#just the casual mentions of same sex relationships & bisexuality is something that can be so emotional

[poisonousquinzel]

sobbing bisexually in the club

[readychilledwine]

Threesome

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth ✨️

Threesomes fall into a few different play types: domination, voyeurism and exhibitionist, and Zelophilia *jealousy play/competition play* and there is a ton of psychologically behind why couples or even singles looking for new fun may partake in one. Threesomes are so desired in the kink community for a few reasons. Here's a few of the most common:

Polyamory - Some people genuinely do enjoy sexual and non sexual connections with multiple partners, so threesomes are a natural outcome of that mindset and lifestyle. It isn't for everyone, but for those who enjoy having multiple partners, there is nothing more satisfying than getting to express the love and joy you all share in one mess of flesh and sweat.

Sexuality exploration (especially among the bisexual community) - it helps allow you to explore questioning sexuality or known sexuality with multiple genders, two people of the same gender, gender fluid people. It can also help if you have a bisexual partner who misses the touch and feel of the sex they are not currently with.

And rekindling - a threesome is an exciting new experience a lot of people do not commonly get to try due to insecurity, jealousy, lack of foundation and trust in the relationship, but when/if you are lucky enough to get to have one, it's. So. Thrilling. It is a new person you get to show off for, a new performance, a new stimulant. It can help rekindle passion, bring new spark, and in some cases teach new methods and positions you haven't tried before.

Threesomes are not something to just casually throw into your love life, though. Threesomes can destroy a relationship as quickly as they can add to it. You have to make sure you and your partner agree on your third that boundaries are set and understood and that you both feel secure. Otherwise, like we talked about with cucking, this can destroy a relationship fast.

Also, before the ask even comes in. Yes. The answer to your question is yes, because at least one of you is going to secretly wonder and possibly send the anon.

💕Peep the Kink Bingo Masterlist Here💕

✨️ As always, NSFW below cut ✨️

Lucien x Reader x Azriel

Warnings - dom!Lucien, sub!reader, switch!Azriel, oral (m and f), competitiveness, mentions of Tamlain (which has potential as a ship 🤔), technically dp, praise kink, ps this dynamic was hard to write, so I went with my heart, hopefully it isn't disappointing.

“She doesn't even want you!” You sighed, swirling the wine you had been nursing for the past 30 minutes as Lucien and Azriel fought.

It was no wonder Elain had run and fallen straight into Tamlin's arms. The two males before you were constantly at odds with each other, constantly stroking their own egos, fighting like children trying to claim the last piece of candy, and quite frankly, they were irritating.

You sighed as your mate's winged flared in anger at that statement, "And what? Do you think she wants YOU? That's comical, Vanserra. Really." You had thanked the Mother and Cauldron for Azriel daily, you truly had, but something about Lucien had captured your mind, and the male, still upset about his own bond failing due to your mate, had taken advantage of that. That didn't stop you from loving Azriel, though. From wanting him. From wanting both of them.

You two had not planned on falling in love with both, but here you were, married to Lucien due to a drunken night in Adriata and mated to Azriel.

You didn't understand why Elain felt the need to choose and to chase. You could have them both if you wanted, and just to prove that point, you untied the satin robe you were wearing, revealing the lack of clothing underneath. Lucien was the first to notice as Azriel continued ranting. His hand had gone to your thigh instantly, eyes locked on your own as he devoured the sight before him. You reached for his shirt, pulling you to him and settling him on top of you. “You sure?” It took Lucien's husky voice dripping in desire for Azriel's shadows to curl his ears, whispering that you were staring at him, waiting. 

“I want you both. Please.” Lucien was more than happy to oblige, placing soft kisses down your body, relishing in every noise as Azriel stared, eyes wide in lust and shock. 

Lucien wasted no time, going to where you wanted him most and nipping at your inner thigh as he placed them over his shoulders. Lucien looked up at you, eyes locking on yours as he took his first lick at your core. He smirked with pride as your head fell back, a mix of a moan and sigh leaving your throat. You reached on hand to Azriel, the other tangling into Lucien's hair. Azriel moved to you, breath slightly hitched. He squatted down by you, grabbing your throat gently right as Lucien locked your bundle of nerves between his lips, licking and sucking on it. 

Azriel held you in place for him, a smirk growing on his face. “Look so pretty like this, baby,” his free hand moved to your breasts, pinching your nipples and groaning as he watched you try to squirm only to be held in place by Lucien. Azriel tutted you softly, “Be good for Lucien, sweetness. Gotta listen and stay where he wants you, or I'll just play with him while you watch.” 

Lucien groaned against you, fingers squeezing your thighs as if he enjoyed the thought of that. He looked up at you, one eye whirling to search for any sign of discomfort, the other blown out with lust and need. 

Lucien didn't eat you out like a male starved. No, every lick and suck was methodically planned. It served a purpose to send wave after wave of pleasure down nerves begging for more and more. You heard Azriel's clothing coming off, and you felt the room shift as you got closer. “Hurry up and finish her off, Lucien. The quicker we get her onto the bed, the sooner you find out what a gift her mouth is.” You whimpered, drooling at the thought of choking on Lucien. "You want that, don't you, y/n?" 

Azriel forced you to nod, laughing at your big eyes and quick submission. Azriel pushed Lucien's head further into your cunt, watching with heated eyes as your head went back further into the pillows, breathing becoming more shallow and rushed. "Gods, she's fucking close. Look at you, Lucien, making our girl so happy. Do you want her to cum for you?” Lucien grabbed your thighs higher, pulling you into him more and moaning at Azriel's hand, tugging and tangling in his red locks. "How lucky am I? Two beautiful submissive little creatures both so eager to please.”

You felt Lucien's smirk, knowing he had just as much of a dominant streak in him. You were just happy to be there. To play the part of this needy creature, especially if it meant drowning in pleasure. Lucien pushed a finger into you, curling it and chuckling as you gasped his name, toes curling. He focused on you and you alone, not even watching as Azriel went down to you whispering in your ear as his scarred hands tweaked and played with your nipples. 

You were a mess for them already. Core drenched and begging, clenching around Lucien's single finger tighter and tighter as your moans and cries began louder. Falling over the edge with Lucien was always easy. He didn't make you see stars. He made you see worlds. He made you cry and beg. It was no different with an audience. Lucien forced you over that edge, hands tangling into his hair, screaming his name, and coaxing little noise after noise of over stimulation from you once your high ended. And then jealousy flooded that bond you shared with Azriel. 

Azriel lifted you from the couch as Lucien watched, taking you over to your bed and tossing you down with effort. Lucien seemed surprised by the smile that appeared in your face as you got onto your knees, hands roaming Azriel's chest as the male pulled your hair back and forced you into a rough kiss. 

You held a hand out to Lucien as he did, a quiet invitation to join you two instead of just watching. Perhaps it was selfish, but you wanted his hands on you, wanted to feel him. Wanted to feel both of them. Lucien came to the bed and started kissing down your neck, warm hands resting on your hips. “So fucking beautiful, baby,” his voice caressed your ear, sending shivers up and down your body. 

Azriel pulled apart, hazel eyes filled with lust. His hand went to Lucien's face, and his thumb traced his plush lips. “I believe she thinks the same thing about you.” Azriel ran his hand down to Lucien's throat, squeezing it softly, “Are you going to be a good boy and listen?”

It was then that you giggled, and Lucien smirked, “Are you?” The question sent electricity through the air. It bought a new challenge, a new competition between the two males. You scooted away as Azriel studied Lucien, watching and waiting. “I promise you this is a game I will win,” Lucien raised a brow to Azriel. “Can you handle that?”

For the first time in the many years of friendship you and Azriel shared, you saw him blush, “I-”

“Let us take care of you, Azriel,” the domination in Lucien's tone was so gentle. “When's the last time someone took care of you?” Lucien stood and moved Azriel to sit on the bed. With a quiet authority, he used two fingers to beacon you over to him. “Lovely, I want you to undress him for us.” 

“Yes sir,” Your hands went to the clasps around Azriel's wings, undoing them while you kissed the side of his neck. Once the back was able to free his wings, you moved in front of him, hands running over the smooth fabric before pulling the shirt off. 

You had to resist the urge to lick every dark bargain tattoo to trace each swirl like you knew Azriel loved. Lucien had given you a task. One you had to focus on. Your hands went to his pants, and he stood to allow you to slide them and his underwear down. Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock. It was hard, leaking, ready. Lucien grabbed you by the back of your neck, stopping you from what you desperately wanted to do.  “Hands and knees on the bed. You have to be good to earn his cock.” 

Azriel watched you obey in silence. Lucien wasn't forcing. He wasn't rough, and he didn't have you screaming and drooling. He just commanded and used gentle touches, and you obeyed. “Do you want to get her ready, or do you want me to?” 

“I will,” Azriel ran a hand over your ass and Lucien stopped him before he could spank you. 

“Be gentle with our girl. She's been such a good listener. She deserves soft tonight.” Azriel could hardly understand what that meant, what being soft in bed meant. “Submission is a gift. Look at how easily she handed us that present. Doesn't she deserve to be treated well for being such a good girl?” 

Azriel felt a wave of something setting in. If he was good, would he get a reward? Would he get to be loved this gently? He ran a finger through your core, making you cry out, and slowly, he pushed it in. You felt your eyes roll as he did, feeling yourself stretching around just his finger. 

You had always told Azriel how much you loved his scars, and it took him fingering you 3 times for him to find out why. He began to open you slowly, pressing each movement in the area he knew you loved the most. Lucien leaned down and captured Azriel's mouth in a long overdue kiss. 

This is what they needed the whole time. And outlet to their mutual attraction. A place they could safely explore each other. Lucien began to stroke Azriel's cock as Azriel added another finger inside of you. Your moans and cried were background music to them as Lucien pulled his mouth away. “Do you want her pussy or her mouth? I'm more than happy to just watch you fuck her while she sucks me off.”

Azriel hummed, “She's more than capable of handling-”

“She wants one of us in her mouth. We've had enough sex at this point while you've been enjoying the pleasure houses that I know her. If she was in the mood for anal, she'd be very vocal about it.”

Azriel's fingers pressed hard into your gspot, making you scream his name. “Please. I need more. I need-” 

“Don't beg,” Azriel growled at you. Lucien glared as you whimpered in submission. “I also know her. Look at how wet and ready she is. She could handle it.”

“It's not a question of can or can't, Az. It's if she wants to. Y/n, what do you want?”

Azriel felt your core Tighten around him, pleased Lucien cared about your wants and needs. “Not anal,” Lucien motioned towards you after your answer.

“If you let me pick, I'm taking her mouth,” Lucien said plainly.

Azriel huffed and nodded, “I've never been this gentle with her.”

“Clearly. She loves it. Look at her.” It was true you did. You were relaxed in a state of complete bliss, moaning as Azriel's fingers touched all the best places. Azriel was memorized by the sight. By you not bending and breaking to his will as a dom, but flowing and thriving under another male's. You listened without question, didn't mouth off to Lucien. This side of you, this pretty girl, he liked her almost as much as he loved his little brat.

He loved the part of you that sassed him, that pushed him, but this, this beautiful offering of whatever they wanted as long as you wanted it as well, it made his heart flutter. Azriel moved behind you as Lucien moved in front of you. Your hand was instantly on the Day Court heir’s cock, stroking him in time with Azriel's fingers. “Whenever you're ready, Az,” Lucien was staring into your eyes as he spoke. “She's ready.” 

Azriel took his fingers out, coating himself in your essence before lining up with you. Taking Azriel was always a stretch, and Lucien praised you both all the way through it, “Look at how good you two are. Perfect little pets for me, aren't you?” 

Azriel groaned at his words as he began a gentle but deep pace. He hit every spot so perfectly filling you like your body had been made for him. You focused then on Lucien's aching cock, moaning as you licked your way up and took the head into your mouth. Lucien relaxed on his knees, wrapping your hair in a makeshift ponytail and he guided you in time with Azriel.

It did not take long for the pace to get frenzied, for the two males to be focused in bringing you to completion again in order to allow them to chase their own highs. 

Each moan around Lucien had his head falling back, and each twitch of your core had Azriel cursing. You could feel heat rising and building. You could feel core lower stomach getting tight in need. 

Azriel looked to Lucien and the male smirked and nodded. You screamed as Azriel began pounding into you. His thrusts became rough and deep. He arched your back more allowing him to hit your gspot over and over as he pushed you further onto Lucien's cock. 

Lucien smirked down at you, “This is when you look prettiest, you know that? Choking on a cock, stuffed full. You look so pretty when your eyes glaze over and you get desperate. You want to cum, don't you angel?” You could only moan around him in response as Azriel grabbed your arms, leaving you fully at their mercy and forcing your muscles to strain. 

The heat in the room grew to a roaring fire as the noise of slick and skin meeting skin rang in the air. You could feel that boil threatening to burst, feel it aching as you were used by the two males you love. This was heaven. It was safety. It was burning passion. A shadow moved to your clit and you lost it. Moan became whines and whimpers. 

You could tell Lucien was close. His eyes were screwed shut. His pace in your mouth was sloppy. Between your tongue, the vibrations of your pleasure, and newness of the 3 of you together, you could feel him twitching, feel him ready to release. 

He held you to him as he came, and Azriel continued pounding. You swallowed every drop of him greedily and whined as he pulled out. “She's so close,” Lucien forced you to look at Azriel. 

Your mate smirked before planting one foot on the bed and his pace became impossibly faster. Both males laughed as your eyes rolled in pleasure and your jaw fell open. Azriel groaned loudly as you tightened around him, “That's our good girl. Cum for us. Finish on my cock.” 

With a flick of a shadow and one well aimed thrust you fell apart, screaming as you tumbled from that edge. Azriel immediately lost himself in the feel of you pulsing around him and found his release moments later, listening as Lucien praised you and talked you through your high, guiding you back to them. 

You collapsed into Lucien's lap and Azriel into your back. The room was filled with the sounds of labored breathing. Azriel gently pulled out of you and Lucien took the towel the house summoned to clean you all off. 

You had never been more thankful for a large bed in your life as the three of you laid there processing what had happened. “This is happening again,” you declared firmly. Lucien just nodded, and Azriel agreed softly. 

"I've never handed over control," Azriel confessed softly. "I've never done that."

Lucien just smirked at his accomplishment, "Then, with me is a safe place to learn."

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[steddieas-shegoes]

i have a request!

maybe one where steve knows he's bisexual before eddie but ofc, eddie thinks he's straight and doesn't think he has a chance, so he just takes whatever he can get with steve's friendship even though he has the biggest crush on steve and vice versa. but when eddie does find out about both, eddie would be internally screaming bc he could have been in a relationship with him and kissing steve ages ago.

i just love gay disaster eddie and confident bisexual steve haha

THANK YOU FOR THIS!!! This one could genuinely be a multi-chapter fic, so if someone has the time, I would love LOVE LOVE to read that. For now, here's a taste of something that kind of checks all the boxes mentioned but at superspeed. If I could write a 20k fic on it, it probably would have A LOT more pining first. I'm a sucker for pining. I hope you love this little thing! - Mickala ❤️

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

Steve was giving off vibes, okay?

Like, major ones.

And Eddie was convinced he was imagining it or just trying to convince himself that something existed where it didn’t to make his chances higher.

When Robin came out, a small part of him believed that Steve had to be at least a little queer. Men didn’t just accept being turned down by someone they liked when they turned out to be a big old lesbian.

But when he casually asked Robin if Steve had ever been so inclined towards the same sex, she laughed hysterically and said Steve was as straight as they came, that she’d never met anyone as straight as him, and that she’d probably end up with a man before he did.

So he let it go.

But then he said stuff sometimes about actors or singers that just left Eddie’s brain a big pile of question marks.

Maybe Eddie just didn’t know how straight dudes talked about other dudes?

So he let that go too.

And then Steve was genuinely checking out a guy at the public pool. There was no other explanation for the way his eyes focused in on his ass and worked their way up his body, a nod of silent approval hidden to all but Eddie.

But he did the same exact thing to Robin when she came out of the changing room, and while he knew he had feelings for her a while ago, they were long gone.

“What was that all about?” Eddie gave in and asked when everyone else started walking to the steps to get in.

“What?”

“Checking Robin out.”

“What the hell? I wasn’t checking her out! I was making sure her bathing suit fit right. One of the things they taught in lifeguard classes was that a too big or too small bathing suit can kill you.”

“So you were just making sure it fit?”

“Yeah. I don’t want her to drown.”

Eddie sighed.

But he let it go.

He stopped hoping for the chance to be more than friends. He was fine with just being friends. More than fine. Great.

He got to enjoy having Steve as a friend.

He didn’t half ass anything.

If he said he was gonna hang out, he was ready to commit the entire day to making sure you had his attention.

If he had everyone over at his house for movie night, he had everyone’s favorite snacks ready to go.

If he was gonna join Eddie at the quarry and smoke and look at the stars, he was gonna do it while making Eddie fall in love with him.

It wasn’t fair.

But he tried to let it go.

It was one of those nights that he found out he didn’t have to let it go.

“You ever just wonder how you could have ever thought you were a different person?”

What? Okay, Steve was high. Past the silly kind and right into the too existential to make sense kind.

“I don’t have a clue what you’re sayin’, man.”

Steve giggled.

God, Eddie was fucking done for.

“It’s just that I thought I was straight for 17 years of my life. And then spent another two years trying to convince myself that I couldn’t be anything but straight. And then life smacked me with Robin and now you and it didn’t really leave me much room to argue.”

“What are you saying?”

“I mean, I’ve had a crush on you since. Well, definitely since you held a bottle to my throat, but probably before that. Like, way before that. Maybe your first senior year.”

Steve was high. He didn’t mean what he was saying, and even if somehow he did, it wasn’t fair to hold him to it. Being high was sometimes like being drunk: the words may be true, but the feelings may not stick around.

So Eddie took a deep breath, bit back the tears he could feel clinging to his eyes and the burn in his throat, and forced himself to change the subject.

It wasn’t fair, but when Steve let him change the subject easily, he let it go.

————-

It took three weeks for him to break.

He was with Steve at his house, waiting for the kids to show up for movie night. Steve was busy preparing homemade pizza because he thrived on being able to cook for everyone.

Eddie loved him so much.

He was staring. He knew he was.

But how could he not when Steve was in that stupid “Number One Dad” apron that Max got him last Christmas as a joke, but he’d sniffled and said thank you like it was the best gift he got in the world?

Steve was humming something, sliding the last pizza into the oven (pineapple and ham for El, Will, and Mike), when it all seemed to hit him.

Steve had come out to him, had admitted out loud that he wasn’t straight and that he’d had a crush on him for a long time.

Sure, he was high when he did, but he’d been high with Eddie lots of times and never given away any top secret personal information like that.

He’d wanted Eddie to make a move.

He was so stupid.

He stood abruptly, nearly banging his knee against the bar in the kitchen.

Steve looked over at him, brows furrowed in concern, lips pouting out unintentionally.

Eddie stalked over to him, not bothering to explain his theatrics. At this point, Steve should be used to them.

He stopped right in front of him, looking down at the suddenly nervous way Steve was holding himself.

He wasn’t letting it go this time.

He sure as shit wasn’t running. He didn’t do that anymore.

“You remember the quarry?”

“Like, in general…or…?”

“A few weeks ago you said something at the quarry.”

“Oh.” Steve looked down at the floor between them. “Yeah. It’s okay that you don’t feel the same. I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that.”

There was no fucking way Eddie was letting him think he didn’t want him back.

He gripped his cheeks in his hands, palms tilting his face up so he could look into his eyes.

Steve was biting his lip so hard, it looked like it could start bleeding any moment.

Eddie brought his thumb over, pulling his lip from his teeth.

“How can I kiss you if you’re too busy eating your lip?”

Steve’s eyes widened.

“What?”

“Stevie. Did you mean it then?”

“Yeah, ‘course I did. I wouldn’t lie about that.”

“Then I need to ask a favor.”

“Anything.”

Eddie wouldn’t let that go to his head. Not yet.

“Can I kiss you?”

Steve’s responding smile lit up the room, more than the overhead lights, more than the actual sunlight streaming through the window.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Eddie leaned in as Steve did, their lips meeting in a light peck that quickly deepened, moans escaping their mouths at the same moment.

He let his hands slide down to Steve’s neck, his thumbs rubbing small circles as his tongue begged for entrance into his mouth.

Steve was sinking further against him, his heartbeat steady against Eddie’s chest.

“It’s about damn time. Honestly, I was starting to think I’d have to make Steve come out to you again.”

Robin’s voice shocked them apart, but when they realized who it was, they managed to fall back into each other.

Eddie’s arm slipped around Steve’s waist as Steve rested his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

“The kids will be inside in about 20 seconds so if you would prefer they don’t know what’s going on, you should wipe those lovesick looks off your faces and find a bubble of personal space.”

Eddie kissed the top of Steve’s head before pulling away.

“Talk when the kids leave?”

“Yeah. But first,” Steve pulled Eddie in for one more quick kiss on the lips. When he pulled away, he was smirking. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

“I don’t plan on letting you out of bed for the next 24 hours after the kids leave. We’ll at least get a good start on the catching up.”

Eddie threw a wink at Steve, ignoring Robin’s gagging noises, and sat back at the bar.

The kids came running in, circling Steve to hug him or ask him what dinner was and Eddie smiled to himself.

Robin nudged him after a few seconds.

“You’re both so hopeless.”

“Not anymore.”

[the-eclectic-wonderer]

I always think about how in multiple episodes it's basically canon that Blanche is bi but considers dating women to be more hassle (which is a whole rabbit hole to go down - does she struggle with societal homophobia when she's with women? Has she only been with fellow high maintenance femmes when shes really after a Dorothy type? Has she internalized the idea that her attraction to women isn't 'real'? Her reaction to Clayton adds to these questions). Not to mention how this goes together with her relationships with the girls; making to kiss Rose that one time (and Rose multiple times seeming very aware of Blanche's proclivities), begging Dorothy for 'relief' and being convinced she's attracted to women too.

Yes, anon! It’s really interesting to delve into Blanche’s psyche about all this stuff!

I started writing down my thoughts and ended up with a long ramble -- allow me to place it all under a cut, so I don't clog up anyone's dash, haha.

Personally, I think she has some strong mental blocks when it comes to her sexuality because of the way she was brought up. I mean, she grew up in Atlanta approx in the 1930s/1940s — I’m sure I don’t have to detail the kind of casual bigotry she must have seen around her during her formative years! Just look at the story she recounts in S1E13 A Little Romance:

“Now, you have to understand that in those days in the South a lot of things were still taboo. Certain people were not to mix. So Benjamin and I had to meet in secret. Oh, we knew if any of the bigots in town found out about us, there’d be a terrible scandal.”

And all of this because Benjamin was a yankee… can you imagine what ‘the bigots in town’ thought about homosexuality? Yeah, I’m pretty sure Blanche learned to suppress that part of herself very early on. We know she turns to denial when she’s faced with uncomfortable truths and emotions she can’t deal with, so I think she likely just refuses to acknowledge that part of herself most of the time, and it only comes out (pun intended!) when she’s not paying much attention to things, or when there’s something more important going on. See the two examples you point out: when she tries to kiss Rose she’s concerned with not being kissed at midnight, and when she propositions Dorothy she’s, well… she’s desperate to get some, if we can be frank.

When she’s in a more rational state, her reactions tend to be more measured… but not by much. She does advise Rose not to date women (S3E10 The Audit):

“Oh, no, honey, don’t do that! No job is worth having to date women!”

But she’s also really flattered at receiving lots and lots of phone calls from women, after her appearance as a ‘lesbian’ on TV (S7E15 Goodbye, Mr Gordon):

“By the way, Dorothy, if I were a lesbian, I sure would be a popular one. Look at this, 20 calls.”

And of course we can’t forget her reaction to finding out that Jean has a crush on Rose in S2E5 Isn’t It Romantic?:

“Jean has the hots for Rose? I don’t believe it, I do not believe it! […] To think Jean would prefer Rose over me? That’s ridiculous! […] Now you tell me the truth: if you had to pick between Rose and me, who would you pick? Who?”

All of these are (likely) intended to be jokes about her vanity and her libertine nature (in the same way as Rose’s observations are), but considering a lot of the writers of this show were queer themselves, it wouldn’t seem strange to me if they were intentionally peppered in to suggest that Blanche might be a bisexual in denial. It certainly fits her character!

I haven’t spoken about her reaction to Clayton’s coming out yet, but that’s immensely interesting too, of course. I think Blanche has the same attitude towards homosexuality that I see in a lot of (mostly older) people in my Country nowadays: it’s fine as a general concept, but when it comes to her family (or, God forbid, herself) then the problems come out. See for example what she says about Jean:

“Well, I’ll never understand what Jean doesn’t see in the opposite sex, but if that makes her happy, that’s fine by me!”

Which isn’t a homophobic attitude at all! If anything, if you take her upbringing into account, it’s pretty accepting. But then, when Clayton comes out to her (S4E9 Scared Straight) and tells her he wants to get married (S6E14 Sister Of The Bride), this is what she says:

“Oh, Clayton, please be serious. You're just saying that so I won't set you up with any more women. […] Well, then you're saying it 'cause you're trying to get back at me for something. Clay, I know you too well for this. After all, I know it can't be true. You're my brother. […] Clayton Hollingsworth. You look me in the face and tell me you really are… what you just said you are.”

“I'm having a little trouble putting this all together. Clayton, I just feel like I don't know you anymore.”

“[…] Dorothy, that's different. We're talking about going out in public. Oh, what are people gonna say?”

“Will you tell me why you want to put yourself and Doug through this? You know how people can be.”

“Oh, look, I can accept the fact that he's gay, but why does he have to slip a ring on this guy's finger so the whole world will know?”

Quite the difference from her attitude towards Jean, wouldn’t you say? I think there’s three elements at play here.

1) When Clayton comes out to Blanche, she feels disoriented because this is life-changing information Clayton has never shared with her before. While her reaction as a whole isn’t ideal, personally I think it’s understandable. Clayton is her baby brother; she’s known him as straight all his life, he’s been married to a woman for years before his divorce, and she recounts an episode from their adolescence when he was on a date with a woman and very clearly implicated having a physical encounter with her. He's done everything in his power to pass as straight until this point in time -- I don't find it strange that Blanche would be shocked at his coming out, especially given her upbringing (and the fact that this is set in the 80s! We can't expect modern sensibilities from the characters!). Once again, her reaction isn't the best (she can't even bring herself to say the word 'gay' at first...), but the shock per se isn't that surprising, imho.

2) Blanche is scared because of societal implications above all. She doesn't necessarily see being queer as something wrong, but she's been taught it's not socially acceptable and acts accordingly. Notice how she's worried about what people are going to say, and she struggles to accept that Clayton wants the whole world to know about his relationship with Doug.

Societal expectations in general are a big theme for Blanche's character, and often drive her development; another big example of this is her attitude towards Rebecca's decision to get artificially inseminated, but it's a bit of a baseline issue for her, I feel. She has this whole thing about her beauty and her (supposed) youth and her attractiveness that has some inherent elements, but it's mostly an issue of how other people perceive her, I think, and her response to her brother's coming out is easy to relate to this theme. I mean, she even says it to Rose in S7E15:

"Well, I don't mind being labeled a lesbian, honey, but since I'm not, you just ruined my social life."

So yeah. I think it's safe to say her main concern is societal disapproval of queerness: she wants to be accepted and celebrated by the people around her, and she thinks that being openly queer will destroy her place in her social circle (and she's worried about the same happening to Clayton too, of course).

3) This is sort of related to point 2, but it felt distinct enough to treat it separately. I think she might have reacted so badly to Clayton's coming out (and especially to his showing up with a partner) because he's open about his sexuality, and she's not ready to face what that means for her. My lovely mutual @\hecatesbroom recently published her latest amazing work the odd one(s) out, on the relationship between Dorothy and her brother Phil and how Phil's open queerness might have impacted Dorothy; I think a similar situation might have occurred between Blanche and Clayton after his coming out.

Blanche has a sort of advantage on Dorothy because of her bisexuality, in the sense that she has 'passing privilege' (I really dislike this concept, but allow me to use it to make a point): it's painfully clear that she loved her late husband with all her heart, and she's obviously attracted to men as well, so she can pretend not to like women without too much of a hassle (whereas, if you believe Dorothy to be a repressed lesbian, her situation is much more complicated).

The issue with this is that this 'advantage' is a double-edged sword: she might have the comfort of being socially acceptable, but she's had to suffocate a big part of herself to obtain that comfort. And so, what happens when Clayton -- her baby brother Clayton, the one who's always been just like her, who's grown up with her same environment and influences -- begins openly living as a gay man? I'm sure the situation must have had a strong impact on her, even if just on a subconscious level; I've always found it curious that she seems to have a harder time accepting Clayton in S6E14 than she does in S4E9 (she even calls his sexuality a phase), and while a part of it may be attributed to the higher social exposure Clayton's commitment to Doug brings, I think this may be a result of her inner conflict, provoked by watching her brother live openly while she's been suppressing a part of herself all her life.

Here I'm assuming she's never acted upon her attraction to women before, but there's some space to believe she has done so and has decided it's too much of a hassle, as you say -- likely because she'd for sure do it in secret, given her fear of societal condemnation. If she has been with women before, and decided to give up on it, I still think she'd be greatly impacted by Clayton's coming out: it means her baby brother is a) braver than she is, and b) going to openly face (and likely suffer because of) the same social issues she's run away from. In this lens, I find it interesting that she cautions him about how people can be, almost as if they've both experienced it.

Whew. Wow, this was a lot more than I'd originally meant to write, haha! Seems you sparked a big train of thought, anon! I think all of the Girls (with the possible exception of Sophia) are really fascinating to analyze with a queer lens, and Blanche is always interesting to me, of course. As a final note, I'd like to point out that she does come around to Clayton's sexuality and his relationship, in the end: as often happens, she just needs the Girls' help to put things back in perspective, understand she's hurting someone she loves, and correct her actions. I'd like to think living with the Girls might lead to her becoming more accepting of herself, too.

[aromantic-pantyanarchy]

hello! i just wanted to tell u that i was going through your 'im the cis, heterosexual aromantic man' post an i just wanted to say that im really glad you made that post, and it resonated with me in a way that a lot of other posts abur aromanticism dont. im a trans bisexual man, so i dont get accused of not being lgbtqi+ the way you do, but there is this idea that aromantic people are just 'using' other people for sex. ive heard some aro/ace people say they felt 'broken', and ive never felt like that, but what i HAVE felt is the feeling you mentioned that other people will feel manipulated or abused if i wait too long to come out to them about being aro. allos are able to date casually without it being seen as 'tricking' people when they find that they arent interested in them romantically, but people who's lives arent centered around romance or who dont pursue long term romance as a goal are manipulative, sex addicts or sluts for doing the same thing.

the double standard obligation for disclosure is something that a lot of trans people can relate too as well. the way you just cant disclose this evil thing about yourself soon enough in relationships for it to not be seen as you trying to deceive the other person. you need to tell your partners that you're trans, you need to tell them that you're aromantic, you need to warn them before they become interested in you.

i know you dont need any validation from internet strangers, but you're absolutely queer, and you being openly queer in the way that you are (at least online) has made other queer people like me feel more comfortable with this not often talked about aspect of their queerness. sorry if im bothering you by the way, i know you had the replies and reblogs turned off for a reason and im not trying to breach any of those bounderies by saying this. im not really making this ask intending to get a response, i just kind of wanted to express my appreciation for that post and dming you out the blue about it seemed weird.

UNGH but I get it man. I know transness can already be seen as a "dirty little secret" aspect of someone's life, that can only feel more difficult to navigate when there's an intention, or even a desire, to enter a sexual relationship.

And, yeah, don't worry about talking to me about that post, I turned reblogs off cause of the people calling me ugly lmao. You're good.

[artemis-de-la-lune]

excerpts from an article written by swathi s. nair, dated 28th november 2019.

tw: mentions of queerphobia, violence against lgbtqia+ in the last three excerpts.

back in 200 A.D, various temples across India had sex sculptures carved into their walls. sun temple is one such place in Konark, a city in the state of odisha. the sun temple of Konark is a holistic place with depictions of sexual acts that involve polygamy, lesbian relationships, polyandry, and more. all the fallen down sculptures and walls have been preserved in the nearby Konark Archeological Museum.

“Kamasutra, the book of love was taught to young students back in the days and this was one of the pictorial media of education for young students then.” says Suryamani Malla, tourist guide from department of tourism, who has extensively researched about the sun temple of Konark.

section 377 of Indian Penal Code (IPC) states: “unnatural offenses- whoever voluntarily has carnal intercourse against the order of nature with any man, woman or animal shall be punished with imprisonment for life, or with imprisonment of either description for a term which may extend to ten years and shall also be liable to fine.”

this law was decriminalized on 6th september 2018. it was a huge step in the right direction, but for a country who has homosexual sex sculptures on the walls of the most sacred temples, this should have never been a ‘criminal offence’.

other than the Konark temple, the best preserved of all temples can be found in a small town named khajuraho in the central state of madhya pradesh. Khajuraho temples were built in the Chandela dynasty between 950 A.D and 1050 A.D. the sculptures portray homosexuality and are depicted right next to sculptures of divine beings smiling blissfully at their devotees. 

apart from all this, Hinduism is a religion that has traditionally considered sex an essential part of life. that could be one of the reasons why these carvings are casually scattered between others that portray activities such as prayer and war. the fact that they are set in plain view and not tucked away in the extreme corner tells that their creators meant for them to be seen by all. “if you take Kamasutra itself, there is an entire chapter that talks about homosexuality. where they talk and clearly categorize all kinds of homosexual desires. the author talks about these desires as perfectly normal and as a possibility. he did not portray it to be a moral issue or a social/religious taboo.” says jithin shankar, who is an assistant professor of History at NSS Hindu College, Kerala.

the reason why concept like homosexuality has become subjective is because people either address it to be right or wrong. the literature available tells you that having a sexual preference tis more of a grey area, hence multiple versions of the same thing. at some point in time, homosexuality collided with religion and that is when people started questioning the ethics and morality of this subject.

religion is just a discipline which tells people what to do and what not to do. there have been multiple cults throughout history before religion came into picture in this country. there have been various cults that worship sexual organs like Linga worship or Yoni worship during the Indus Valley Civilization. this gives it a spiritual entity.

many characters in Indian mythology literature like Mahabharata and Puranas talk about characters like Mohini and Shikhandi, who can be categorized as bisexual or gender variant and this shows how normal it was back then to include characters like this to the literature. “instead of getting inspired by the character, even the fact that people had the imagination to write down a character like her, is a big step. they had the literary freedom when it came to this” says Shankar. shankar points out that during that time and age, even the European literature did not think or talk about something like this. so, for a country like India to talk about this in their literature is a huge thing and it shouldn’t be looked down upon right now.

Shikhandi is another character that can be identified as gender variant in the Indian mythology. Mahabharata is believed to written around 6th and 7th century period, around the Gupta dynasty time and it talks about a character called Shikhandi who was born a woman but changes sex and becomes a eunuch.

even though many literature like Vishnu Purana term it as a negative thing, other literature like Ardhashastra, Kamasutra and Panchatantra talk about it like a normal thing. archaeology provides hard core support when it comes to that.

“sculptures around the temples like Khajuraho, or Sun temple in Konark prove to us that whatever written in these literature was not a made-up story. it was something Indians back then believed and accepted” says Shankar. these sculptures are no western influence for our country, and neither is homosexuality. decriminalization of section 377 is a big step, but the LGBTQIA+ community still faces a lot of bullying and exclusion from the Indian society, especially from politicians and religious groups.

religion has become the biggest weapon to make people in this country feel like an outsider. people are victims of lynching, mental torture and thousands of them have been thrown out of their homes by their own families for coming out as LGBTQIA+. this is a huge step back for our community.

if Indians thousands of years ago could accept homosexuality as something natural and common, then there is no reason to react in a negative way towards the LGBTQIA+ community in India today.

source: click here

note: i have merely shared some excerpts from the article, as it is. i also have paraphrased a few lines to make the sentences shorter without changing their original meaning. the sole credit for the entire article goes, obviously, to the author.

also, here's a reminder to stop being an a*****e and stop using your religion as an excuse to hide the fact that you're just a disgustingly bigoted human being.

[hellomynameisbisexual]

Lesbian, gay, bisexual, transexual, queer. While the LGBTQ+ label continues to expand with the increasing awareness of sexual and gender identities, we are not yet seeing this awareness extend to our screens. While we are seeing an uptick in positive, empathetic stories of homosexual characters, those characters whose sexualities are not so neatly black or white (or pink, lavender, and blue), are still depicted as confused, sexually deviant, or greedy – if they are even depicted at all. While a more fluid take on sexuality is trickling into more mainstream media, it is often done so without seeing the need for ‘labels’, ignoring an entire subgroup of the queer community who long to see themselves not only portrayed on screen but portrayed correctly and proudly.

Bisexual Erasure – “A pit stop on the way to homo” – Perpetuating Negative Stereotypes:

The 1990s and 2000s saw a number of new media hit screens that aimed to not only appeal to the queer community but to educate those outside of it as well. Joss Whedon’s landmark show Buffy the Vampire Slayer displayed the first on-screen lesbian kiss, while shows such as Will & Grace and The L Word put gay and lesbian characters to the forefront of serial narratives. While borderline revolutionary for their time, such shows now seem outdated in a time where sexuality is understood to more fluid than simply gay or straight.

Buffy’s Willow Rosenberg came out as gay after her first relationship with a woman, discarding that she had a strong emotional and physical connection to her previous boyfriend, Oz, for two and a half seasons. The 2005 drama Brokeback Mountain is often described as a romance between two gay men, similarly dismissing that both Ennis and Jack are married to women towards whom they display attraction. Katherine Mayfair of Desperate Housewives suffered a similar fate, jumping straight to believing she might be gay after her first sexual experience with another woman despite a lifetime of heterosexual relationships, with bisexuality not proffered, or even mentioned, as an option.

While the words bisexual or pansexual were never mentioned in any of these narratives, others discussed it to their detriment. Will Truman, from the now at times dated Will & Grace, referred to pansexuality as “a pit stop on the way to homo”, contributing to the common myth that bisexual or pansexual people are confused or can’t yet admit to themselves that they are gay. Friends works this line into one of Phoebe Buffay’s songs for a laugh; “And then there are bisexuals, but some just say they’re kidding themselves.”

Sex and the City also contributed to negative bisexual and pansexual myths, with Carrie Bradshaw referring to bisexuality as ‘double-dipping’ and ‘greedy’. This is another common stereotype of the bisexual. Returning to Desperate Housewives, in the episode I Know Things Now, bisexual character Peter McMillan ended up cheating on Bree with her teenage son, Andrew. HBO’s True Blood also contained a number of bisexual characters including Eric Northman and Pamela Swynford De Beaufort, whose homosexual scenes were played as kinky or deviant, saving the romance for the heterosexual couples.

“I like hot people!” – is casual sexuality progress?

A more modern approach has been taken in recent years, showing sexuality as more fluid than the rigid homosexual or heterosexual labels. But is this really a step in the right direction? Piper Chapman from Orange is the New Black is shown having serious relationships with both fiancé Larry Broom and ex-girlfriend Alex Vause, without once describing herself as bisexual. The closest we are given is Piper explaining that “I like hot people!” In The Good Place, Eleanor Shellstrop’s attraction to Tahani, Janet and Simone is made clear, but is used only as a comedic landing-place, with Eleanor’s sexuality going undefined and unexplored. While this take on sexuality as a place without labels is refreshing and a step up from the representation of the bisexual as deviant or confused, it leaves the need bisexual and pansexual people have to see themselves on screen unfulfilled.

Even shows that pride themselves on being progressive in their representation of sexuality can be found complicit in bisexual erasure. Fox’s popular musical drama Glee dedicated much of its screen time to Kirk Hummel’s struggles as an openly gay teenager in Ohio and Santana Lopez’s struggles to accept herself as a lesbian, but bisexual character Brittany S. Pierce is denied this same careful treatment and seemed to come to terms with her sexuality remarkably quickly in comparison.

“Letting my bi flag fly” – getting it right

All this isn’t to say that bisexuals are never represented correctly. Brooklyn Nine Nine’s Rosa Diaz, played by bisexual actress Stephenie Beatriz, is not only given a coming-out story – something bisexual and pansexual characters are often denied – but the struggles of her coming to grips with her sexuality are also displayed in full with understanding and tolerance. The brush off of “You’re gay, so it’s not a big deal,” applied to many members of the queer community who do not fit neatly under a homosexual label, is debunked here. Not only is Rosa given a coming-out story at her workplace, which is fielded by her colleagues with grace and acceptance, but she is also given one to her parents, causing a rift between her and her mother when Rosa insists that she has an equal chance of ending up with a woman as with a man.

The CW’s Crazy Ex-Girlfriend features a total of three bisexual characters over the course of its four-season run, most prominently Darryl Whitefeather. After divorcing his wife after a long-term marriage, Darryl is confused when he becomes attracted to White Josh and begins to question if he’s gay. This journey to discovering his bisexuality culminates in the celebratory musical number Getting Bi, the lyrics of which debunk the myth that bisexuals are confused, indecisive, or sexually deviant. It is important to note that this song is also a coming-out story, which is a refreshing change to the idea that coming to terms with being bi or pan is easy or without confusion.

Pansexual characters are also starting to find a name for themselves in mainstream media. Klaus Hargreeves from The Umbrella Academy is most likely pansexual, although once again this comes without explanation or labels, denying the pansexual community visibility on screen. This is not the case in either Sex Education or Schitt’s Creek. Sex Education, which also sees Adam Groff come to terms with his bisexuality, gives Ola Nyman not only a journey of self-discovery with her sexual identity but a journey that culminates in a neatly worked-in definition of pansexuality. Schitt’s Creek takes a more nuanced but by no means less helpful approach with the now-iconic wine bottle analogy. David Rose, who has long since known he is pansexual, describes his sexuality tidily and succinctly as “I like the wine but not the label.”

We’re making progress. We’re increasingly seeing not only a wider range of sexualities and genders enter our content, but we are also seeing LGBTQIA+ characters be more than victims, stereotypes, or defined only by their labels. While it’s important to have such characters in narratives be more than their sexuality, it is equally important to depict these sexualities correctly and visibly. While films and shows may be getting better at giving us the wine, sometimes we do like the labels to be there as well.

[insaneasgardian]

Haircut Of Love - Sambucky

Summary: Confessions are made, and lives are changed the day Sam gives Bucky a haircut.

Genre: FLUFF

Warnings: Bucky being slightly sad while thinking of Steve, Bucky thinking that his feelings for Sam are unrequited (they're not), Idiots in love.

A/N: I have actually worked on this for longer than I should've XD A big thank you to @cassiecasyl and @aixabi for being such great friends and helping me out by proofreading, and making suggestions!

He knew he should've stopped Bucky tagging along, but the moment that infamous, "I'm coming with you!" so eagerly left the super soldier's lips, Sam knew it was pointless to persuade him to stay behind.

Not that he really minded, the mission he'd been assigned with was a tough one, and it would've been lonely if Bucky hadn't been so adamant about accompanying him.

Sam stared into the fireplace and focused on the embers as he let his thoughts wander. There were some terrible people to be stuck with in a log cabin in the middle of nowhere, but Bucky certainly wasn't one of them. He was an interesting character for sure, and Sam was sure he still didn't know a whole lot about him, but their relationship had developed all the way from 'a couple of guys' to 'almost best friends'.

"Hey", came the voice of the man Sam had so deeply been thinking of. He turned around with that signature smirk he reserved especially for Bucky, and watched with delight as the White Wolf turned a light pink color, and it wasn't because of the cold.

"I thought you might want to catch a shower, the water's nice and warm" the brunette said, and Sam nodded as he noticed his friend's damp hair from his own shower.

"Man, you need a haircut" Sam remarked, and much to his pleasure elicited a chuckle from Bucky.

"Do I?"

"It has gotten kind of longer..."

"Well, it's not easy to find a hairdresser in the forest"

"I could cut it for you"

The words slipped from his mouth before he could stop himself, and he didn't miss the way Bucky's widened ever so slightly. Sam internally scolded himself, feeling that he'd made things awkward somehow.

There was a slight pause in the atmosphere, but the ex Winter-Soldier eventually smiled. It was a weak smile, but genuine nonetheless.

"I'd like that," he told his friend, "would you mind?".

Sam shook his head, a bit too enthusiastically, and that made Bucky raise his eyebrows

“I can do it now if you want, so I don’t get your greasy ass hair all over me after I’ve gotten out of the shower”, Sam casually slipped in to look less ecstatic than he really was.

Bucky scoffed and crossed his arms at the statement, but his grin only grew wider.

“So… are you gonna give me something to cut your hair with?” his friend asked him, making a scissor snipping motion with his fingers.

The brunette’s lips tugged downwards into a frown and bit his lip as he often did when pondering. Sam couldn’t help but let his eyes wander to the bottom lip in between those pearly white teeth, but he forced himself to snap out of it.

After a brief moment, Bucky snapped the fingers on his vibranium arm and turned to walk towards the room he was staying in. “Wait there!”, he had instructed Sam, who had no intention of getting up from the comfortable position he was in anyway.

Promptly, Bucky had returned, clutching a pair of scissors that Sam immediately identified as a pair of Captain America themed kiddie scissors he had recently bought for his nephew, AJ. He burst out cackling.

“What’s so funny Samuel?” the White Wolf pouted, plopping next to his friend who was dying of laughter.

“You stole that from AJ didn’t you?” Sam pried, inwardly dancing at the thought that his secret crush would want something with his face on it.

“Psh, no… I permanently borrowed it, that’s all”, Bucky insisted, moving from the couch to sit on the floor in front of Sam’s legs so that the other man would be able to cut his hair with more ease.

“Mhm”, Sam hummed, already weaving a piece of Bucky’s hair between his fingers, and snipping it off, just like that. It seemed easy enough, so he kept on going, chopping bits of hair here and there, trimming the areas which really needed it, and taking care not to overdo the cut and end up making Bucky look bald in certain places. He was doing quite well considering that he was equipped with nothing but a pair of small, blunt kiddie scissors, which Sam was certain professional hairdressers did not use

A lovely period of pure silence fell in between the two men. The only sounds were the scissors delicately doing their job of cutting the brown locks, accompanied by the gentle crackle of the fireplace, creating a relaxing atmosphere.

“Steve used to cut my hair, you know… Used to do it all the time in the 40’s” Bucky said, breaking the silence. Sam froze in his movements, but only for a second. It was rare for this man, who had been through so much to talk about his past like this.

“We’d sit outside on the street in the summer, he’d be on a chair with his scissors and I’d sit down in front of him, punk gave a damn good haircut to be honest”, he continued, and Sam chuckled.

“People would give us dirty looks as they walked by, it wasn’t uncommon for people to think Steve and I were a couple, but it was frowned upon to be in a same-sex relationship back then… sometimes still is of course”, his tone was now sad, as if he wanted to admit something, but was refraining from doing so. Sam stopped what he was doing, and set down the scissors, obviously sensing the shift in the atmosphere.

“Still, Steve and I were just friends, that’s all he’d ever wanted to be anyway”, Bucky finally finished.

Sam got off the couch, and slipped down onto the floor next to the 107 year old. “And what about you? Did you ever want to be more than friends?”

Bucky ran a hand over his face, which donned a neutral expression, “It’s complicated Sam… I’d be into a girl one second and thinking about Steve the next”.

Sam gently nudged Bucky’s shoulder with his own, and gave him a small smile, “Bisexual then?”, he questioned.

The other man nodded, and looked at Sam with a grin now gracing his features, “Yea, but you know what? I forgot all about Steve…” he paused to dart his tongue out his mouth and wet his lips, “The day I met another guy I haven’t been able to stop thinking about”.

Sam’s world shattered the moment those words left Bucky’s lips. The thought that the man he had pined after for so long was yearning for another made him want to burst into tears right there. However, Sam Wilson was not the kind of man to be salty over the choices of others. So he kept on the smile he had been wearing the entire time his heart broke over and over again. Yet, he had been so absorbed in his own mind that he failed to notice the longing glances Bucky was shooting at him, the ones he had been giving Sam ever since he first met him.

“Happy you could get that sorted out for you man!” He said brightly, patting Bucky’s back and climbing back onto the couch to resume the haircut.

The ex winter soldier was dumbfounded. Had Sam not noticed how he felt? What if he had? What if he didn’t appreciate the advances?

There was stillness once more, but this time it was incredibly awkward. The two sat absorbed in the silence, no longer so focused on their own thoughts, but on every movement and action the other did.

“All done,” Sam finally said, and gestured towards the large wall mirror in the living room. Bucky looked into it, and nodded.

“You’ve done a nice job, thanks”, he mumbled.

“No problem” Sam told him, getting up from the couch. “I’m going to go take a shower now”, and with that, he rose and climbed the stairs to get to the bathroom. The footsteps faded away and when Bucky heard the bathroom lock click shut, he leaned his back against the couch with a sigh. He ran a tired hand over his face.

What had he done wrong? He’d watched all the movies, read all the books and listened to all the music Sam had suggested. He’d come to see Sam’s family as his own, he cherished Sarah, AJ and Cas with all his heart.

Hell, he’d even taken dating advice from Zemo…. Maybe that’s where he’d gone wrong.

Bucky wasn’t sure. He may have lost the charm he had back in the 40’s, but Sam had always accepted him for who he was. He never questioned Bucky’s past, or forced him to be more social and open. That’s the reason Bucky developed more than platonic feelings towards him. He was so easy to be around.

However, the white wolf figured that if Sam didn’t want anything to do with him romantically, the least he could do was to maintain the relationship status they had now. Not to mention, he had the perfect way to do that.

Mac and cheese. Sam’s favorite food.

A grin grew on his face as he scrambled to the kitchen. It was a tasty and easy thing to cook and would be done before Sam even got out of the shower. Bucky proceeded to locate all the necessary ingredients they had brought to the cabin, and got straight to work.

It wasn’t a difficult job at all. With his swift speed, and his mind set only on the task before him, he was done within minutes. He even managed to get two servings plated beautifully, and just in time too, because as he finished setting the table, Sam descended the stairs and made his way into the kitchen. A smile was drawn on his face at the smell of the meal, and all the previous tension seemed to have dissipated.

“Smells good in here!” he exclaimed, his eyes then landed on the beautifully presented plates of mac and cheese. He gasped and clapped his hands like an excited child, and Bucky couldn’t help but laugh. He thought it was adorable.

“Alright, alright, take a seat Sammy,” Bucky said, gesturing to the bar stools next to the kitchen island which the food rested on.

Both of them rushed to sit down and dig into their dinner. Bucky watched his friends expression as he took the first bite of his food.

Sam’s eyes closed in pure bliss, as his taste buds thanked him. “Buck, this is heaven in my mouth, tastes even better than what Sarah makes”.

Bucky blushed, but quickly tried to hide it with a chuckle, “Sarah’s my teacher, I owe it to her”.

Sam nodded at the statement, but commented no more on the topic. Instead, he took another bite and made eye contact with Bucky. “So… who’s this guy you’ve been crushing on?” he inquired.

Bucky was taken aback by the question, he blinked rapidly, “huh?” he mumbled, earning an eye roll from Sam.

“Listen man, I’ve never pressured you to tell me anything before, but we can’t pretend like that conversation didn’t happen” Sam said gently, setting his cutlery down, and reaching a hand over to place it on Bucky’s vibranium one.

The brunette gulped, closed his eyes, and took two deep breaths. He’d have to get it out. Or else it would slowly kill him to watch Sam find someone else. Even if his feelings were unrequited, the man had a right to know.

“It’s you” he said quietly before he could chicken out.

Sam slowly blinked, and shook his head, “Sorry, repeat that?”.

Bucky groaned and looked up from his plate which he’d been staring at the entire time. He gazed into Sam’s doe brown eyes with his own piercing blue ones, “It’s you! You’re the guy I’ve been crushing on!” he agitatedly replied.

Once more, there was that silence that seemed to be consuming the two of them so much lately. Bucky wanted to cry, to hide the humiliation. He was certain that Sam’s lack of words meant he didn’t feel the same, because Sam always had something to say.

“Forget it,” Bucky choked out, getting up from his seat, but Sam’s hand tightened its grip on his wrist, stopping him from getting away. The super soldier turned around slowly, trying not to make eye contact with Sam so that he wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes.

Then, all of a sudden, Sam rose from his seat and his lips met Bucky’s in what was a tender, loving kiss which shocked the latter, but he readily returned it. They stayed like that for a while, embracing each other as their arms snaked their way around each other's torsos. It was a moment neither of them wanted to break, but were forced to. Eventually, when they pulled apart gasping for air, they looked at each other in surprise, but merriment. Wide beams adorned both of their gorgeous faces, and their eyes glinted with excitement.

“So…” Bucky began, “you were desperate to get a piece of me, why, is it the new hair?” he said teasingly.

“The next time I give you a haircut, it’s gonna be turned into a mullet”, Sam threatened, making the other man raise his hands in surrender.

The mac and cheese was long forgotten as they clutched each other once again. Their hearts were bubbling and overflowing with love for one another, and it was not a love that was going to fizzle and die out. They fit perfectly in each other’s arms, like it’s where they belonged.

Two men, who had their own individual problems denying them a place to be truly content in the world, had finally found their refuge in each other.

Finit

[wwilloww]

tell me what you want | myg

pairings: Yoongi/Reader, (mentions of Yoongi/Namjoon and Namjoon/OC)

genre: 18+. nonidol!au. friends to lovers.

word count: 5.7k

warnings: alcohol use. pining. some minor angst. smut. pwp. penetrative sex. unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!). creampie. fluff.

summary: Yoongi teaches you how to ask for what you want.

a/n: This is my very first attempt at writing fanfiction and smut! Thanks so much to my friends Carl and A for supporting me through the writing process and for encouraging me. If you enjoy this, leave a comment: I am so excited to hear what you think!

do not copy, repost, or translate without explicit permission from the author.

The pounding in your head matches the pounding in your chest.

You thought you would be fine, surrounded by your friends. And you are, in a way. After a couple of drinks the tension in your chest has eased and it’s easier to fall into conversation with strangers and friends alike.

After years of hard work and careful saving, you’ve purchased your first apartment. Tonight, you’re hosting a housewarming party that has quickly turned into a full-on house party. There’s nothing like a little spilled beer to baptize a new home.

With the music blasting, and good friends at your side, you almost forget why you’re feeling uncomfortable in the first place: Yoongi.

He’s been a good friend of yours for a long time. You had met back in college, having been paired up for a group project. But when the assignment was completed and turned in, you never stopped hanging out. He kept showing up at your door, beer and pizza in hand and a gummy smile spreading across his face until he was a steady constant in your life. But recently things have started to take a turn. It was a gradual process. Like water slipping underneath the door, your feelings snuck in quietly and devastatingly. And like a slow flood, there was no stopping their gradual rise.

At first you admired him. How caring he was. How intelligent he was. The way his signature no-funny-business attitude took over when he was deep in the process of his passions. How he always seemed to know exactly what to say, while it always took you an extra second to come up with that snappy comeback. How, when he took a second to put his thoughts together, his words spilled like poetry from his lips.

Before you knew it, there was something strange and fluttery pooling in your stomach everytime his name popped up on the screen of your phone or when your friends mentioned he would be stopping by.

You didn’t expect Yoongi to return the feelings. He was always kind to you, helping you with the move, showing up for you at a drop of a hat. But that’s all you thought it was: kindness.

Still, knowing he didn’t feel the same way about you didn’t change the fact that it felt like you had been punched in the gut when you walked into the kitchen and found a very tall and wildly handsome man draped all over Yoongi.

It seemed effortless, the way the strange man so casually ran his fingers through Yoongi’s hair as they chatted with some of your friends. What was this sinking feeling in your gut?

It wasn’t jealousy. At least not over Yoongi’s redirected attention. Instead, you envied the ease with which the beautiful man held onto Yoongi. The way his desire pooled openly in his eyes and settled comfortably throughout his entire body.

Even if you had enough courage to make a move—and enough validation to know it wouldn’t be squandered—you had no idea how to. Every time your interest rose, it became trapped in your throat, leaving you frozen and confused.

With the pit in your stomach still open and yawning, you proceed into the kitchen, slipping your hand into one of your friend’s and tugging her to the counter where you uncap a bottle of vodka out of the cabinet and pull two shot glasses towards you.

“Hana, who—,” you begin to whisper-ask, but you’re interrupted.

“Shots!” a familiar baritone sings into your ear. Yoongi was standing wildly close, his arm already reaching around you to grab a shot glass and then to press you into his side. You stiffen, feeling your heart jump out of your chest at the sudden proximity. “You want one?” he asks the beautiful stranger.

“Only if you’re having one,” the man winks at Yoongi.

“Of course,” Yoongi replies with a coy smile. You feel oddly trapped between the intensity of the two men, the chemistry between them burning. Still, Yoongi winds his arm tight around your waist and, as if its second nature, your hand comes to rest on his stomach. You two could look like a couple like this. You’re not sure if it’s just you, but you think he pulls you closer and when you instinctively grab onto the thin fabric of his shirt, the smooth planes of his stomach tense under your touch.

“Oh,” Yoongi breaks his gaze from the man to look down at you. “By the way, this is Namjoon.”

Your eyes widen for a moment. So this is the infamous Namjoon. Yoongi’s ex. You had been hearing about the complicated ins and outs of their relationship for the past year, usually only after Yoongi had a couple of beers. But Yoongi had never brought Namjoon around to meet his friends, because, quote, “It’s just not that serious.” But here Namjoon was, standing in front of you. While Namjoon had ended things in their most recent breakup, it seemed as if tonight he was doing his best to mend his relationship with Yoongi. Either way, you wipe the surprise off of your face and smile at the man.

“And Namjoon, this is one of my closest friends in the world. She’s the best.”

The f-word hits a little harder than you’d like it to, but you grin up at Yoongi anyways, giving him a playfully light shove.

“Ah, stop, you flatter me,” you tease, but the words seem to fall flat.

The four of you take the shots of vodka with hisses and groans as the burning liquid slides down your throats. Slamming his glass down on the counter, first, Yoongi watches you finish your shot straightfaced.

“Never seen someone make taking a shot look so attractive,” he teases you, laughing.

Still, you blush from his comment. It’s too much. You pull away from Yoongi’s unwavering hold on your waist and tug Hana towards the living room where dancers have congregated.

“I want to dance!” You say, a little too cheerfully.

Hana throws you a sideways glance but ultimately understands. She wraps her arm around your shoulder as you join the group of bopping dancers.

“Let’s distract you,” she says, dramatically spinning you into a dip and you can’t help but giggle at your friend’s absurdity. She holds you tight against her for a song or two, before you break away to dance sporadically as one of your favorite songs comes on.

Here, away from Yoongi, it’s easier to lose yourself, surrounded by your favorite people, the vodka paving a liquid ease through your body. It’s easier to close your eyes and let the bass carry your thoughts.

When you open your eyes, you see Namjoon twirling Hana in a clumsy rendition of a jive, and Yoongi is nowhere to be seen.

The lights go out and a cheer rises up from the living room. The music pauses for a moment before switching to a more sensual groove. You let out a whoop, throw your head back, and start to roll your hips. The only thing lighting the room is a lava lamp that is precariously passed around.

It’s not long before you feel a gentle hand on your back and you find yourself leaning into it, not a single question in your mind. Without looking to see who it is, you reach behind you and pull them flush against your back. It feels good to lean into someone, to have someone wrapped around you--not to mention the hand sliding up your side to rest on your waist does wonders for your bruised ego.

Namjoon is smirking at you as he sways against Hana.  

You push your hips back. They meet your movements with their own grinding hips and you can feel strong hands tracing up your sides to guide you into them. Closer. Tracing circles against one another, following, as if with one mind, a shared rhythm.

You know the heat building in you is part this, part the worn-out out tension you feel whenever you’re around Yoongi. But you want to let go. You want to lean into this stranger and just let them take it all away. They press you against them, and you can feel their breath brush against your neck--hot and light and so delightful. You let your neck roll to the side, giving them better access to your warm skin. Fingers trace down the slope of your neck, skate down your side, and press into you. But the pleasure of their heavy touch only lasts for a second because then those same hands are turning you around and you’re face to face with Yoongi’s blooming red cheeks and warm, indecipherable eyes.

You falter through your next movement and Yoongi takes the opportunity to maneuver you through a graceful twirl out onto the dance floor and then back into his arms. It only takes you a moment before you catch up and soon the two of you are dancing, too close for your own good.

If you could just fall into this. Into his hands, into his touch—without explanation, without expectation and let the sinful pleasure of the moment cradle you. Yet, you know that it will never be enough. To answer this desire, even for a moment, is to split yourself open for him.  

He meets your movements with his own hips, and this small moment of synergy is enough to send a wave of warmth shooting up your spine.  

He leans down, and tucks your hair behind your ear.

His lips brush against you as he whispers, “I want to talk.”

“Not now.”

You try to pull him back into the music, but he steps away.

“We can continue when we can talk,” he says sternly, but his eyes betray something kind as he pinches your chin.

Namjoon leans over to you, as if he had heard the entire exchange. “His bisexual ass is so hard to pin down, you know, metaphorically—but also physically,” he winks at you.

“Let her be,” Yoongi chuckles, but there’s an edge to his voice. Still, he takes Namjoon’s arm and pulls him to the kitchen, reaching up to his ear to say something to him that you don’t quite catch. The pair step into the adjoining room, where Namjoon proceeds to wrap Yoongi in a hug that feels almost too intimate to watch.

You do your best to distract yourself in the blaring music and your friends, but you can’t help but keep Yoongi in the corner of your eye. Within you, a new and uncomfortable tension rises—and you don’t understand it. You already knew he wasn’t interested. Nothing tonight has proven you otherwise.

By the time the party begins to wind down, you’re left stunningly sober and with glasses and half-eaten food all over the apartement.

You wave goodbye to your friends as the crowd trickles out of your new home. Yoongi helps you find misplaced jackets, and as Hana and Namjoon collect their things and head towards the door, Yoongi leans up to Namjoon and presses a kiss against his cheek.

“Get home safe, okay?” he says, chuckling at his ex’s inebriated stumble towards the door.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he does,” Hana sings as the door closes behind the pair.

Yoongi immediately turns to start picking up glasses and brings them to the kitchen.

“Why didn’t you go back with him?” you ask.

“Hana seemed like she was perfectly capable of taking care of him tonight.”

You shot him a confused glance, which he caught. He sets down the glasses he was holding in the sink and turned to you.

“You know me and Namjoon are over right?”

“I don’t know if he knows that.”

Yoongi laughs. “You know—He and Hana—they’re hooking up. He was here for her, not for me.” He chuckles, leaning back with such composure against the kitchen sink. “Sure, we’re still close, but that’s over.”

“Oh,” you say. “Well, you know you don’t need to explain yourself to me.”

“I know,” he says gently, coming over to where you’re drying some dishes to lean his head on your shoulder. “But I want you to know these things, I—,” he takes a deep breath as if he’s steeling himself. “I want to talk about what happened earlier.”

You push away from him and head to the kitchen. “I don’t think there’s really anything to talk about,” you gulp. He follows you anyway.

“I want to talk,” he says again. His voice is level and dry.

“I don’t.”

Your eyes widen as he steps closer and leans over you.

He’s got one hand pressed firmly against the wall by your head. With the other hand, he pulls a streamer out of your hair. But that’s not what you’re focused on. He’s caged you in, towering over you, something dark and unknowable in his gaze.

“Then why make eyes at me all night?” he asks, slowly. “It seems like you want to talk.”

You don’t have an answer, but still you manage to stutter, “I...I just...I have nothing to say.”

“Ah. So this has nothing to say to me?” His hand comes up to cup your face, a calloused thumb running over your burning cheek. As if on instinct, you lean into his touch. It’s been so long since someone touched you like this, like you were something delicate.

He watches your expression carefully, a glimmer of a smirk playing on his lips. “Or this?” He reaches down to grab your hand before drawing it up to brush your palm against your ribcage. Beneath your hand your breath is fluttering—heavy and inconsistent. “Or this?” He draws the pair of your hands upwards to cup the swell of your breast. He spreads his palm over yours, fingers pressing into you. Despite the audacity of his current moves, his touch is gentle and feather-light.

He can feel your heart pounding beneath his touch, pounding like it wants to escape.

“I affect you...” he said, as if the notion surprised him too.

“No. You don’t,” you stutter, your face flushing with the lie.

“...just like you affect me,” he finishes.

“What?” You’re shocked to hear those words fall from his lips.

He smirks down at you.  

“Mhmm.”

He leans down to press a kiss against the corner of your mouth.

You stiffen and he pulls back slightly, searching your eyes, waiting for you, waiting for permission. Some very loud voice tells you that to give in is to give yourself up. But then, if his lips on yours isn’t a sign, you’re just not sure what will be.

You barely give it a moment before you pull his taller frame fully to you and press your lips against his. He falters, shocked by the crack in you that he’s finally seeing through. And then he comes to his senses and kisses you back, wrapping his hand behind your head where his fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of your neck. His other hand comes to the gentle valley of your lower back, pressing your torso to his. This kiss is a gentle and nervous search and you find your insides fluttering against his touch.

And then he’s pulling away, taking a half step back and the fear that you thought you had put out of your mind is rushing back in like the tide.

As Yoongi pulls away from your lips, he can feel the crack closing. He can feel you slipping away again. Your eyes shift downward, and you use one arm to wrap around your torso.

“Does that give you anything to say?”

If you didn’t before, you definitely don’t now. It’s as if his touch has stilled every thought in you. Has quieted the voices—all of them—the nagging voice, the one that tells you he’s too good to be true.

“I don’t know how to say it,” you finally murmur.

The silence draws out between the two of you.

“You have to tell me what you want,” he says, shaking his head. “I can’t keep guessing.”

He’s waiting. Waiting for you to say something.

There is this gnawing ache in you, a dull throb in your chest that wants so badly to reach out to him and pull him back into your arms and never let him go. From this place comes a desperate need for him to know just how you deeply feel about him. And yet, as the words rise to your throat, they stop on your tongue. As if by uttering your own desire you will shatter into a thousand pieces.

Fear. That’s what this is.

Your name falls off his lips and you bring yourself to look him in the eyes, your hands still gripping the front of his shirt.

Looking down at you—your eyes wide, your flushed chest, your lips blooming red from his attentions—his heart breaks as he says these next words, “I can’t do this if you can’t talk to me.” His words hit like a boulder dropped on your chest. Your eyebrows shoot up in shock but still, you say nothing.

He nods. Your silence is enough of an answer for him. He turns away from you and swings his jacket over his shoulder, his heart shattering. His hand is on the doorknob.

“Yoongi,” you call. He stops in the doorway. He thinks his name sounds like a song when you say it. “I’m sorry.”

He turns back to you  just enough that you see a sad smile tugging at his lips.

You squeeze your eyes shut, hating everything you’ve done up to this point. Hating your cowardice. Hating the part of yourself that stops in fear at every chance of getting close to someone. Of opening up and allowing someone to see that you want, that you crave.  

With every ounce of strength you can muster, you push past the doubt, you push past the fear. At last the words are tumbling from your mouth:

“Yoongi, I want you.” Your eyes are still squeezed shut, as if by keeping them closed there’s a chance you can reel your words back in. “I want to let go.”

“That’s all I needed to hear.”

He strides back from the doorway to you, his eyes burning, a real smile spreading across his face. He presses himself against you again, but this time his movements aren’t searching and hesitant. You’ve both waited so long, there’s nothing to hold back. He lowers his lips to yours before letting his mouth travel over your chin and down your neck. Goosebumps spread like a tide across your skin.

“I need to know you want me too,” you gulp, your fingers tangled in his hair.

“Good girl,” he mumbles against your neck, working his teeth and his tongue against the sensitive skin. “Telling me what you want.” You flush at the praise. “I want you, not just this, but you.”

He bites down on your lip, loving the way your grasp tightens around him and a small oh slips out of you. “I want to wake up with you and fall asleep with you,” his eyes meet yours, “and see you like this, all fucked out and needy for me, every night.” He runs a thumb across your lower lip, loving the way the swollen flesh parts for him. “Do you want that?” You gasp against him, barely getting an mhmm out as he sucks a bruise into your neck.

“Use your words.”

“I do. I want it, too.”

He pulls away from you, holding your head in his large hands. The soft smile spreading across his face is the most delightful thing you’ve seen. It gives you courage.

He’s not lying. He wants you.

Before you can unravel and doubt the thought, you take his hand, pressing a chaste kiss to the back of it as you lead him to your bedroom. He follows without a second’s hesitation, and this moment—you leading without a single question fluttering in your mind—brings something singing and happy to the surface. All that is left is clear and clean and throbbing.

Gently, he guides you onto your back and crawls on top of you, lifting your shirt to kiss and nip up your belly. When he gets to your chest, he pushes your shirt and bra up and latches onto one of your nipples. Your back arches and the buds raise and pucker as his tongue swirls around one before he bites down.

“Oh,” is all you manage to get out. It comes out breathy and Yoongi thinks it’s the most divine sound he’s ever heard.

“All good?” he asks.

“Good—good, keep going.”

Yoongi pays each breast due attention, sucking and biting in the perfect mix of pain and pleasure, before sitting back on his heels. Beneath him, you couldn’t be more gorgeous, hair spread against the pillow, face and chest flushed. In this moment, your guard is down and he’s never seen you this stunning, your body relaxed and preened with desire. Desire for him.

His bulge strains painfully against his jeans. He wants nothing more but to rip off your pants and take you right now, but first he wants to draw more of those beautiful sounds out of you.

Yoongi smirks, an idea crossing his mind, as he continues to play with your nipples. Just enough to keep your eyes fluttering in pleasure, but not nearly enough to bring you the sense of fulfillment you’re desperately searching for.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” he says.

Your eyes snap open, searching his. All you find is mischief.

“I want you to touch me.”

“I am touching you.” He slows his ministrations to mere palming.

“No,” you whine, “I want you to touch me.”

“Don’t make me pull it out of you. Tell me exactly what you want.”

He wants to see you beg.

“I want you to touch my pussy. I want your fingers in me. I need you closer,” you all but gush.

“Good girl,” Yoongi coos at you. “Get undressed.”

Hastily, you move to slip your shirt and bra over your head and shimmy your jeans down your legs. Once you’re left in nothing but your underwear, he leans down to kiss you gently, like all of the tenderness in the world could be captured between your lips.

“Turn over.”

You roll over, onto your belly, twisting back in time to see him pull off his shirt. He moves towards you, straddling the backs of your legs and spreading his palms across your ass. “So pretty,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you. He slides his finger underneath the band of your underwear before roughly tugging them down, but not all the way off.

Before you know it, the pads of his fingers are brushing against your dripping cunt, exploring the part of you that he only imagined ever getting to see, let alone touch.

“So wet already. Is this all for me?” he asks. You nod into the pillow. With one hand still drawing lazily through your folds, he grabs your hand and guides it to the prominent bulge in his pants. You gasp when you feel how hard he is.

“Do you see what you do to me? I’ve been this way since you thought it would be a good idea to grind your pretty little ass on me in front of all of those people.”

You moan at the words dropping freely and easily from his mouth—a moan cut short by Yoongi thrusting two fingers into your cunt and starting on a nearly punishing pace. Your hands come back up to grab onto the sheets beside your head.

“I want to get you nice and ready for me. Can I stretch you out so you can take me?” It’s more of a statement than a question, but still, you nod, desperately wanting him to, desperately wanting to please him. With two fingers in you, his thumb begins to press at and circle around your swollen clit.

You moan incoherently into the pillow and push your hips back towards him.

He’s watching your every move, lapping up every delicious sound that falls from your lips. He wants to know exactly what will make you tick, what will bring that gorgeous flush to your face—and he’ll do anything to earn it.

All of a sudden, he’s hitting someplace soft and spongy within you, over and over, and it’s like you’ve been shoved off a cliff, tumbling forward in your pleasure. Your orgasm washes over you before you can even say anything. It comes fast and hard and breathlessly. You clench helplessly around his fingers and he outwardly groans at the sight.

“Did you just come?” he asks, incredulously. He pulls his fingers from you and wipes them on his pants.

“I think so,” you gasp, trying to catch your breath, rolling over and propping yourself up on your elbows.

He chuckles.

“That was the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.”

Your already rosy cheeks somehow manage to flush even more. He reaches forward to brush your hair out of your face.

“Do you want to keep going?” he asks. “We don’t have—”

“No, I want to,” you sit up to reach towards his lips and hook your fingers into the belt loops on his pants. “I want you.”

“Yeah?”

“I want your cock. I want to make you feel good.” You slide your hand to cup his growing erection through his pants and he trembles under your touch.  

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Take your pants off,��� you order, not sure where this boldness is coming from, but relishing in the way it courses through you. The clarity of it, like a rain-bloated river flowing after months of drought.

He does as you say, standing up from the bed to roll his pants down his legs. When he rejoins you on the comforter, he’s just in his boxers.

“Off,” you say as you kiss him. “Take them off.”

He peels them off.

You lock gazes with him and reach down to wrap your hand around his cock. You don’t look away: You want to see every moment of pleasure unravel on his face. You want to know you are the source of his pleasure.

You are rewarded with a moan as you begin to stroke him, rolling your thumb over the head to collect the precum that’s gathered there. He thrusts up into your grasp as you tighten your grip and begin to move a little bit faster. But then just as you begin to lean down to take him in your mouth, his hand comes to rest on yours and he pulls you back up, stopping your movements.

His hand soon comes down to rest on yours, stopping your movements.

“God,” he gasps. “I’m not going to last if you keep doing that.”

You pout. “But I want to make you feel good.”

“Don’t worry, you are,” he chuckles. But you’re still frowning. He presses a kiss to your lips, pulling your torso against his. “There’s no rush to do everything tonight. We have all the time in the world.” His words make your heart swell.  

He guides you onto your back as he comes to straddle you again, hand slowly stroking up and down his length.

“And you want to do this?” he asks. “Like I said, there’s no rush.”

You nod eagerly, biting your lip.

“Good. Spread yourself for me.”

You reach down and spread your lips apart. Despite the simplicity of the action, you can’t help blushing at the sudden and explicit exposure. But it quickly morphs into pleasure as he grasps himself and slides his length along your slick folds, teasing your clit and your entrance.

“Please…” you whimper, your need building to a desperate ache in your abdomen.

“Please, what?”

The words come tumbling without hesitation.

“Please. I need your cock in me now.” He pushes his cock against your clit just to see you gasp. “Please, Yoongi. Please fuck me.”

If he had any resolve to continue teasing you, it is completely dissolved by your begging. He leans forward, placing one hand for support next to your head, and with the other hand, guides his cock to your entrance and slowly begins to slide in.

“Oh god, it’s like you’re fucking made for me,” he groans, pressed in to the hilt. He stills when he’s all the way in, loving the fit of your tight cunt around him.

Finally wrapped around him, you’re entirely blissed out. If only he would goddamn move.

“Yoongi,” you moan, “I need you to move.”

“Alright, baby girl,” he says cooly—but it takes every ounce of strength he has to keep from pounding into you like an animal. He starts moving, slowly, relishing in the drag of his cock against your snug, wet walls. As he begins to set a pace, these warm, wonderful sounds begin to slip out of you. Each one twists something deep in his gut and he groans out your name. “You’re so good for me, making these pretty sounds, taking my cock so well. Making me feel so good.”

You clench around him at the praise and he moans.

The room fills with the sweet sound of skin meeting skin, your breath tangled in a game of push-and-pull.

His hair has fallen onto his forehead, and with the sweat, stuck there, divinely dark. You reach up to push the strands out of his eyes, hooking your thumb in his mouth. He bites down lightly on the digit, his breath coming heavy, his eyes boring into yours. Just the sight of his own pleasure makes you tremble.

You can feel a second orgasm building.

“I-I’m close,” you tell him.

“Come for me,” he pants in your ear. “Be a good girl and come for me again.” You close your eyes and allow the sound of his voice to roll through your body. You can almost trace the pleasure through your veins. It’s building, like a spring in your abdomen, reaching out into your limbs, your throat, your mind—and then it hits something hard and solid. A block in your chest. A place where you want to keep things tight and close and unseen. Let go, you repeat in your mind as you begin to lose acceleration. Just let go!

But it’s gone, that breaking point seems so far away now.

“Baby, come back to me,” he’s saying, and your eyes shoot open. He reaches up to the hand you’ve tangled in your own hair and guides it around him so that it presses against his back. “Just hold onto me. You don’t need to do anything. Just sit in the space in your body where it feels good. Let it feel good.”

He starts rocking against you again. You take a deep breath and wrap your arms fully around his torso. This slight adjustment allows his pelvic bone to rub up against your clit and you arch your back to push as much of yourself towards him as possible.

“Take it slow,” he says, kissing along your collarbone.  

You take a deep breath in. On the exhale, you imagine unwinding the wall within your chest. As you continue to breathe, to just feel the way your chest rises, other sensations begin to rise to the surface. Like the sinful sound of  Yoongi’s ragged breath edged with the smallest groan every time he exhales. Or the way his consistent pace seems to press deeper into you with each thrust, building a sensation split between pressure and pleasure. And finally, the way there’s an unending heat simmering in your belly, just waiting for you. Just waiting for you to dive in.

Is this what it meant to let go? To give yourself—your pleasure—your control—up? Finding a space to ebb and flow with sensation instead of trying to track pleasure down? As his hands run over your body, you shudder, allowing the sensation of his rhythm, his warmth, and his affection to rip through you.

“Let go, baby. Let go just for me. Let go,” he pants.

That’s all you need. The pool of pleasure growing in your abdomen explodes, ripping through your entire body. You throw your head back, mouth gaping in a silent scream.

Yoongi hisses at the tight sensation of your warm walls are clenching around him. Looking down at you, spine so delicately arched, sweat pasting your baby hairs to your forehead, your nails leaving small half moons in his lower back, it seemed impossible to hold on any longer. With a grunt, he pounds into you, chasing his own high and loving the way you too are unraveling beneath him. With a final thrust, he comes, thick ropes shooting into you.

He collapses on top of you, making sure to roll to his weight slightly to the side so as not to crush you.

For several minutes the only sound in the room is the sound of your panting. Yoongi props his head up so he’s looking up at you from between your breasts.

“You good?”

“More than good,” you smile.

He looks sleepy, eyelids heavy and pleasure-filled. You made a mental note to get up and wash off and pee in a couple minutes, but for now you just want to stay here, your hands tangled in his dark hair, bathing in the comfort of his weight and rhythmic breath against your skin.

There was no denying the pleasure he had led you through in the past hour. But this, his arms wrapped securely around you, with no doubt that he wanted them there, that he wanted you here, was the kind of pleasure that coursed slowly and gently through your entire body.

“Will you stay?” you mumble into his chest.

“I’m staying,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “For a while.”

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[marshmallow-xphile]

My thoughts on the sexuality of some of my favorite X-files characters.

I posted this in my X-files amino back in June as part of a LGBTQ pride challenge and for some reason I only just thought to post it here as well.

Fox Mulder: openly bisexual

Mulder is so open sexually that I really don't think gender matters all that much to him. He does seem to prefer females but I wouldn't be even remotely surprised if he had a boyfriend or two in the past. I don't think he's flamboyant about his sexuality but I don't think he'd hide it at all either

My evidence:

In the season one episode "Ghost in the Machine" we meet an Mulder's ex-partner, Jerry, and I absolutely feel like there is an ex-lovers vibe to the both of them. They hug upon first seeing each other, Mulder looks incredibly happy to see him, when Mulder says they worked together Jerry corrects him to say they were partners at which point Mulder looks over at Scully as if to see her reaction. Mulder has this real guilty look to him. When Jerry acts a little self conscious Mulder is real quick to jump in and reassure him. They get in each other's personal space. It just really leaves me with the impression that they care deeply for one another and broke up for other reasons, perhaps the different career goals as Mulder tells Scully.

We also have Mulder with Krycek. From the very beginning of Krycek's involvement with the X-files I feel like the writers went out of their way to make a correlation between the change in partnership and a new partner in a relationship. There is a scene in Sleepless where Mulder and Scully are on the phone and Mulder tells Krycek he'll be right there, the rest of the conversation feels reminiscent of two exes chatting about the change brought about by the new relationship. Scully even brings up that it must be nice having a partner who doesn't question his every theory.

There were many scenes in Sleepless, Duane Barry, and Ascension in which Mulder and Krycek were alone but that we never got to see who knows for example what the two of them got to talking about while they were stuck in traffic during the drive to New York in Sleepless. Or how often they hung out between Sleepless and Duane Barry.

During Mulder and Scully's partnership Mulder only called her 'Dana' on a few emotional occasions. He started casually calling Krycek 'Alex' almost immediately.

Let us not forget the infamous speedo scene. While yes it definitely showed more of a Krycek attraction to Mulder than the opposite. It does make one wonder what led him to wear such a revealing bathing suit. How many straight men do you know who wear speedos? My guess is few. How many straight men wear speedos when they can reasonably assume their male partner will show up looking for them? Not many would be guess.

And then there is their relationship after Krycek is revealed to be a traitor. They both tend to act more like scorned lovers than enemies and notice that it's Mulder, not Krycek, who cannot seem to keep his hands off the other. Seriously it's like every time Krycek shows up, Mulder immediately grabs him.

Now here's a couple quotes from Mulder,

Krycek tells Mulder he most be losing it because Krycek beat him with one hand. Mulder's immediate reaction: "isn't that how you like to beat yourself?"

When the little man in Humbug is lined up pretty much exactly with Mulder's crotch he says that Mulder would be surprised how many women find his size alluring. Mulder's immediate reaction: "you'd be surprised how many men do as well"

How many straight guys do you know comfortable enough with their sexuality to make a gay innuendo? I personally cannot think of any.

Dana Scully: bicurious

I believe that Scully is sometimes attracted to women. It definitely is not as blatant as with Mulder and I really don't think she's had any past girlfriends but I definitely think that there is an attraction.

My evidence:

In the episode "Ice" I really felt like there are a few tender moments between her and Felicity Huffman's character especially while they were examining one another for the worms. That examination had a sort of sexual energy to it I thought.

In the episode "kill switch" theres a moment where the Invisagoth asked if she could have her handcuffs removed or if she should type with her tongue. Mulder mentions that she doesn't want a vote there and the look on Scully's face and the way she licks her lips, I definitely get the impression that she would have been perfectly happy to see what Invisagoth could get up to with that tongue.

Some people point to Scully's relationship with Reyes as evidence of her bisexuality, I personally don't see any attraction there on Scully's side but I don't think its outside the realm of possibility.

Monica Reyes: Closeted lesbian

This one's probably a surprise I know there was something between here and Brad as well as a flirtation with Doggett so you would probably think she was Bisexual but honestly was either one of those even remotely convincing? To me they weren't. I believe that Reyes is a lesbian.

I kind of go back and forth on whether she's open about it. Reyes is very spiritual and open so it seems strange that she would be in the closet but maybe she has a reason, fear of it affecting her career in the FBI perhaps? It just seems strange that she keeps pursuing these heterosexual relationships she has no passion for unless she is trying to hide her true passion.

My evidence:

I admit I really have very little evidence but look at the relationship between Reyes and Brad Follmer. It had all the chemistry of two people who got really drunk once and cannot remember sleeping together. I don't for a second believe she was ever in love with Brad nor he in love with her.

Then you've got the same thing between her and Doggett. Yes the writers were obviously trying for a romantic angle with the two of them but to me it never came across as convincing. It seemed more like she thought of him as a good friend and figured she might as well date him, I saw no evidence of love or attraction.

On the other hand look at her and Scully. While I feel like the attraction there was one sided I definitely feel like Reyes was into Scully or Dana as she would call her. Reyes was willing to risk her life for Scully and yes that is her job after all but Reyes seems to take that above and beyond and it's not just Scully herself but also William. Look at how protective Reyes is of William in The Truth and of the sacrifice Scully made in giving him up. She seems to care even more than Mulder on that.

Cigarette-Smoking-Man: Asexual

CSM has probably had sex at some point, he is of course the father of at least three children but I do not think that he was ever in love with any of these women or even attracted to them. I believe they were all just a means to an end.

I believe that CSM's only love was for his cigarettes

Evidence:

There is a little bit of evidence that he might have actually felt something for Teena Mulder but I don't buy it. He freely admits that he felt nothing for Cassandra Spender but he must've been convincing if he got her to marry him and we have seen him fake emotions more than once. He also seemed to show an attraction to Scully in En Ami but that too was just a means to an end. Perhaps he does feel something towards all the women he has impregnated but I wouldn't call it love. I don't see any real attraction there either. My bet is that CSM needed some "help" in order to produce his offspring.

Alex Krycek: Gay

While Krycek did have an obviously sexual relationship with Marita Covarrubias he definitely didn't have any real feelings for her and I don't buy attraction either. No I'd say they were both just trying to use sex to get what they wanted. His anger at finding the Russian boy gone wasn't because he was heartbroken at her betrayal. Merely mad that she'd managed to get the upper hand.

Whether Krycek is open or in the closet I'm not sure, I'm thinking it probably depends on the mission hes on at the time.

Evidence:

Of everyone on this list I'd say Krycek is the one I'm the most sure of. There is no doubt in my mind that Krycek was attracted to, perhaps even in love with, Fox Mulder. From the very beginning there appeared to be a bit of longing in his eyes.

There was the speedo scene wherein Krycek was definitely checking Mulder out. There were several scenes where Krycek could've killed Mulder but chose to help him instead.

As I've seen pointed out before, Krycek's crazy motivational choices don't make any sense at all unless it's all in an effort to be around Mulder more.

Look at his sense of style and his obvious love for lip gloss. I am not saying that straight men cannot love lip gloss and dress themselves in Krycek's fashion but it is uncommon and it was especially so back in the 90s

The infamous kiss in The Red and the Black could certainly be explained away as some kind of Russian custom but it isn't one that I am aware of and he hasn't really shown any other signs of his Russia heritage.

I would say my best evidence of Krycek's sexuality is in Essence and Existence, just look at the look on Krycek's face when Mulder trusts him to protect Scully. Krycek knows what Scully means to Mulder and then look at how seriously Krycek takes the job! I definitely feel like that moment meant a lot to him and he would have protected Scully with his life for Mulder.

There's also the fact that Krycek's unwillingness to kill Mulder lead to his own death.

Of course asking Skinner to shoot Mulder goes against this theory but I do have a couple thoughts on that, the most sensical being that he knew there was no chance Skinner would shoot Mulder and he probably knew there was no chance he would survive anymore. Maybe he made that request in hopes of sparing Mulder any pain he might have otherwise felt at his death (I know it's a bit of a stretch but my other theories require a long explanation of my thoughts on where the series had planned to go next)

The lone gunmen: no one knows....not even them

Three (I don't count Jimmy for this) single adult men who all live together in very cramped quarters and are, at least in Langley's case, perfectly happy to be around each other without thier clothes on certainly makes it seem like there's something between them all but I really don't get a overtly gay impression with any of them, even Langley who as mentioned doesn't like to wear pants and is the only one who hasn't had a love interest. They just have this sort of Vegas-esque thing. "What happens in the bachelor pad/newspaper room stays in the bachelor pad/newspaper room.

I would love to hear other people's thoughts on these and any other X-files characters you think might be somewhere on the LGBTQ spectrum.

[btsqualityy]

Idea…

Junior (32) and Aiden (20) are having lunch. It’s been a while since he checked in with his baby brother and since Aiden has been living in Los Angeles due to being drafted on the Los Angeles Lakers, he thought he see what’s up. Plus Aiden has been very secretive. “So how’s life and training?” Aiden shrugged. “Same old stuff. Training is intense and I been sleeping a lot. Mama was out here two weeks ago so that was fun.” Junior nods as he drinks his beer. “How about you hyung? How’s myungie and Soo-Soo?” Junior smiled at the mention of his babies. He wipes out his phone. “Good! Soo popped her first two teeth! She’s been biting Eunji so it’s time to wean her which will be a fight and don’t get me started on Myungie. He’s a ball of energy but the sweetest boy ever! He loves mom to death which dad gets jealous about!” Aiden looked at the pictures. “I miss them and home” junior snickers. “You mean you miss mama? Admit it!” Aiden flicks off his big brother. “I do.” Junior turns the conversation to something else since he knows how homesick Aiden gets. Especially when Kins is brought up. “So dating anyone new? I see a faint little…” Junior smiles and point to Aiden’s neck. Aiden smiles a bit blushing. “Yeah but it’s super casual. Nothing serious.” Junior frowns. “No permanent partner?” Aiden shakes his head. “I can’t right now. No time.” Junior stares. “You at least have sex right?” Aiden blushes. “Or your hand is your best friend still?” Aiden chokes. “Hyuuuuung!” Junior laughs. “What?! It’s natural!” Aiden stuffs his mouth his bread. “I don’t HAVE to do that but girls aren’t really interested in me too much and same…so…yeah”Aiden trails off quietly. “Aiden,” junior sighs. “Look at me..” Aiden raises his head. “You’re 6’9” and handsome as fuck. Basically perfection with the body of a god! You are the most kindest and humblest guy to walk this planet. You play for the fucking Lakers and are a beast on the court. You were just named mvp of the year TWICE now, scored a multi million shoe and active wear deal with Nike and the NBA 20XX game franchise! Plus you’re MY brother. You’re a fucking catch. Have some confidence.” Aiden squirms. “I’m just not interested in full term relationships right now plus I’m a vir-..yeah.” Junior stops what he’s about to say and finally understand. “I date here or there but it’s not my main focus 24/7. Sex isn’t my main focus. Basketball is plus I’m a little awkward at dating so it makes it kinda interesting sometimes but I mange. However thanks for the little ego boost. I may be humble but I am the shit huh?” Junior laughs. “Language Aiden Kim. What would mama say?” Aiden snorts. “Thanks hyung”. Junior grabs his hand. “Anytime” 🥰

**I can see Aiden maybe being bi-curious or trying to figure himself out****

Ahhh I love this! I can definitely see Aiden being bisexual and kind of just taking his time to figure himself out 😌

[oftenderweapons]

Steamy Waters — Yoongi

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (nicknamed Kitten), Namjoon x Vixen (mentioned)

Wordcount: 8.7k words

Genre: smut, a tinyyyyy bit of angst, pwp, established relationship, idol!au

Rating: very18+ 

Hello strawberries! With Namjoon’s Steamy Waters we saw the guys leaving for tour, with Yoongi we see them come back. Of course there will be a few things happening in between the two fics, but that will come later (see it as some special piece similar in terms of genre to Girls’ Night). Quick recap of the plot: Yoongi comes back from tour and Kitten is there to greet him. It has been a long day, and a he’s been away for a long time: the two decide to head to the shower to help Yoongi get rid of his travelling filth and help Kitten get rid of her bitter feelings. (AKA that one time Yoongi finally convinced Kitten to move in with a very unorthodox method.)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: filth. Swearing. Sarcasm. Dirty Talking. Slight angst (Yoongi’s shoulder is sore; Kitten finds condoms in his travel bag and she is afraid of cheating, even though she knows Yoongi is 3000% faithful, past relationship trauma). Shower blowjob, cum swallowing, cock worship and breast worship, lots of ass grabbing (both male and female receiving); again, Yoongi wakes her up with oral which is something he does a lot but still, it’s non explicitly consensual since she’s sleeping, he asks for consent as soon as she wakes up. Unprotected sex within an established relationship (GET TESTED BEFORE GOING BARE WITH YOUR PARTNER. PLEASE. USE CONDOMS UNLESS YOU’RE 1000% SURE YOU’RE CLEAN). Spooning sex, fingering, he uses his fingers as a gag. Multiple rounds and very multiple orgasms and squirting. Mentions of a cocksleeve. Mentions of anal sex; mild anal play (female receiving), mentions of rimming (female receiving). Use of a G-spot vibrator with remote control via smartphone, squirting, cunnilingus and face riding, crying, slight degradation, use of safeword, old school missionary jackhammering, choking kink. On a side note, reader is bisexual and everybody has a crush for Vixen

If you want background music for reading I suggest playing the whole About Time album by Sabrina Claudio or Over It (complete set) album by Summer Walker. [Thank me later 😉] 

Finally, here is my masterlist and well, Enjoy!!! ✨💜

———————————

You stood in the middle of the underground parking lot of Yoongi’s apartment, waiting for his van to arrive from the airport. Today he was back from the tour and you’d taken a few days off work to spend time with him.

You stood there, checking some emails on your phone when the doors of the lift opened on a dolled up Vixen. 

You had seen her wear black, blue and white quite consistently, head to toe impeccable at all times. That’s why you had to do a double take when you saw her in a pink, frilly, tiny sundress that looked like it could unravel if you stared at it for too long. 

“Am I late?” She asked, only to stare at you and realise that if you were there waiting, then no, they hadn’t arrived yet. “Sorry, dumb question, I’m just excited.” She smiled nervously, fixing non-existent creases on her dress.

“There’s a bit of traffic. They’ll be here in a minute, though.” You explained, putting down your phone. “Plans for a date?” You asked her, looking at her outfit.

“No, actually. I just wanted to dress pretty.” She said, elegant and sweet as usual. 

You smiled and looked at your oversized, worn-out T-shirt from a rockband you listened to when you were a teen, and the loose cotton shorts that reached your mid-thigh, paired with casual flip flops. You weren’t even wearing your nice bra. Not that Yoongi would care about that once he took your shirt off. Bras were just a nuisance to him anyway. 

“Are you on vacation?” She asked, checking her phone before locking it again. It lit up again with a notification, her lockscreen showing a picture of a boy staring at a sculpture. No doubt, Namjoon. 

“No, just took a few days off.” You replied kindly. You checked your phone yourself. “You and Joon are going on holiday?”

“Just a quick getaway.” She explained, beaming at you. She looked radiant, as if the last seven weeks had never existed. But her face looked slimmer. Her arms too. You had often met at the gym, spending time together and working out, ‘to stop thinking’ she had said. And you had bonded like that, over working out to stop your brains and dull your edges while your boyfriends were away. 

You tried not to think if Namjoon was going to propose while they were away. Yoongi had mentioned the man was considering the idea. “Then have a safe journey and a nice holiday.” You said, grinning. “Hope you can get your fill of him.” You said smirking. 

She caught the innuendo mischievously. “Trust me, I will.” She replied before winking. 

The bar to the parking lot lifted, before a black van entered the space, stopping a few slots away from you. 

Vixen was basically skipping on her toes, ready to throw herself at her boyfriend. Beside her, you felt like a flock of hummingbirds had been caged inside your chest, the fluttering feeling almost uncomfortable. When you heard the doors open, your ears stopped working, blood pressure making them perceive nothing but a dull beeping sound. 

Namjoon appeared from the door, Vixen dashing to him and throwing her whole body into his arms as he picked her up. The whole scene was very romantic and dramatic — just in their style —, almost making you sneer in a mysanthropistic fit, however the smaller figure appearing behind the lovey dovey couple made you reconsider your hatred towards humanity. 

Let’s be clear, you weren’t normally this sour, but seven weeks without Yoongi had taken their toll, and all you wanted was to incinerate every couple until he had had his sweet way with you and you weren’t underloved and underorgasmed anymore. 

“No dramatic welcome back for me?” He asked, staring at you from the distance with his hands on his hips. “No balloons and banners?” He shook his head. “You’re a disappointment.” He grinned at you. 

“You’re sucking your own dick tonight.” You teased back, Namjoon and Vixen too caught up in their idyllium to bother with your bantering. 

He shrugged. “Thank you for letting me know.” He opened his arms and you walked towards him, hugging him tight as he did just the same, your arms around his neck as he placed his hands on your waist and pulled you to him. “Hi, Kitten.”

“Hello, Yoongles.” You said, your voice emotional. 

“I’m sorry, I smell a bit.” He said, thinking about all those hours on the plane. 

“Not really.” You said, nuzzling into his neck, reacquainting with his cologne. “You’re as good as usual.”

His hands rubbed up and down your spine. “Let’s go upstairs. It’s too hot outside today and I could kill for a shower right now.”

The back of the van was already open as Namjoon took out the suitcases. 

“Hyung. Here is yours.” He said, letting it roll towards Yoongi. 

He thanked and caught it, sprawling his left hand over the top of it before catching the handle. Your eyes went wide as you stared at the tendons and veins just below the pale skin, jumping and flexing at the effort. 

You had missed those hands. Dearly. Deliriously. 

As he noticed your focused stare, he smirked, his other hand searching for your fingers, intertwining them with his. “I have my backpack too. Careful, there’s equipment inside.” Said Yoongi, pulling at your arm as he neared the back of the van and grabbed his stuff. 

“Let me get that.” You said, fussing over him. He looked tired and thin. “How’s your shoulder?”

“Not too bad.” He said. “A bit crumpled up because of the long trip and the air conditioning, but overall not bad.” He let you take the backpack though, showing you that yes, it was probably not nice. 

“I’ll have a cold pack ready upstairs.” You said, kissing his temple. The boys and Vixen said goodbye to the driver as he left, leaving the four of you trying to fit inside the lift.

It wasn’t too difficult and you were grateful that Namjoon stayed mostly silent even as his hand kept drawing patterns on the back of Vixen’s naked thigh, climbing decisively too high — and too under her dress — for public decency. Not that he noticed you or Yoongi staring and looking at each other conspiratorially, trying to find ways to tease him about it in the future. 

Anyway, Yoongi drew you close with an arm around your waist, whispering in your ear, “I’m just as needy myself.”

You turned to look at him with a knowing smirk. “I wouldn’t expect any less.” You whispered back, pressing your brow to the side of his head. 

Luckily, the doors dinged and opened, making the sweethearts quit their endeavours and hurriedly grab the suitcase and the smaller carryon. Next, you took care of Yoongi’s luggage, helping him slide it down the corridor, to the door of his apartment. Namjoon and Vixen stood in front of the door beside you while he opened the front door to their apartment and brought his stuff in. 

“I don’t think I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” Namjoon commented. 

“I don’t think so, no.” Yoongi replied chuckling as you raised your eyebrows and looked away, avoiding Namjoon’s knowing smirk. 

“Then have a nice break. Guess I’ll text you.” Namjoon replied. 

“Of course.” Yoongi said. 

“Kitten,” Namjoon greeted with a small nod. 

You waved at him, at the same time as Vixen said goodbye to the both of you and Namjoon picked her up again. 

“We didn’t tell them to keep it down.” Yoongi realised after staring at the closed front door for a couple seconds. 

“We could sleep in your studio.” You reasoned with a doubtful pout. 

Yoongi’s expression unintentionally mirrored yours. 

“Shall we?” You said, gesturing to the door.

He placed his arm around your waist and dragged you in. “I’m not strong enough to carry you like that.” He said, closing the door. 

“They’re so disgustingly sweet.” You replied, shaking your head and combing his hair with your fingers. He looked so good with black hair. 

“You say that only ‘cause it’s been too long since I last fucked you.” He replied, ignoring the suitcases and placing his lips on yours, chastely, sweetly. 

“I’ve missed you.” He whispered, rubbing his lips on yours tenderly. 

“I’ve missed you too.” You replied, placing your hands on his ass and pushing him closer to you. 

“I love you.” He murmured with his deliriously sexy voice. 

“I love you.” You echoed, squeezing his behind eloquently. 

He grinned. “Did Namjoon give you ideas?” He said, referring to the lift scene. 

“I’m just appreciating the small things in life.” You quipped, making him part from you with an outraged frown.

“My ass is not that small.” He opposed. 

“You are small.” You replied, cupping his face and squishing his cheeks. 

“You have clearly forgotten how it feels to have my cock inside you.” He teased right back, gripping your ass himself and pushing you against his front, making you feel his hardening length. 

“Maybe you could give me a reminder.” You wondered. 

“I need a shower.”

“And I need to blow you, which, in my opinion, makes an excellent combination.” You said reasonably. 

He grinned and shook his head. “Fuck, if I missed you.”

“Yes ‘fuck, if I missed you’, but also fuck me, please?” You said, raising an eyebrow and opening your hands with your palms up in front of him in a helpless pose. 

“Let’s get that shower first, yeah.” He rubbed his hands up and down your sides. “You’ve waited so long that you can wait a bit longer, right.”

“I repeat, you’re this close to sucking your own dick tonight.” You warned jokingly.

“Then we can have that shower and let you blow me before you change your mind.” He teased, calming you down with heavy touches to your cheeks and hair.

He was secretly enjoying the feel of you in front of him, getting reacquainted with the materiality of you, with the joy of feeling you at his side, of feeling you, full stop. He had never known he could miss touching someone. Innocently, attentively and lovingly. 

He had missed the feel of you under his hands. Combing your hair, hiding his nose in the crook of your neck, holding your hands. 

Holding your hands. 

He felt like he could do just that as you fell asleep on the bed. 

He felt so tired. 

“Let’s go.” You said, noticing his tired gaze. 

“The bags.” He said, pointing at his luggage in the entry. 

“Later.” You replied, squeezing his hand and leading the way to the bathroom adjoined to your bedroom. 

“How was the journey?” You asked, taking off your shirt once you entered the bathroom door. 

“Tiring. Very long. We had a long delay due to the connecting flight being late.”

“You had a connecting flight?” You said, incredulous, stopping as you were taking off your shorts. 

“Well, it’s pretty difficult finding direct flights from Europe to South Korea.” He said, taking off his own shirt. 

You turned around to look at his naked torso. It was pale as usual, more sculpted, but barely, still you immediately spotted the slightest curve on his belly and relaxed. It wasn’t as bad as it looked. Next he took off his loose linen sweats, a pair of plain white boxers emerging underneath. His calves were slightly bronzed, and as he noticed you staring he explained. “I stayed out with Hoseok one afternoon. I had bermudas on.” He pouted. 

“My poor little cracker.” You cooed, getting closer to him in nothing but your underwear. As he hugged you, his hands went immediately to the clasp of your bra, unlatching it. 

Grinning, you took it off and offered it to him, who threw it hatefully behind his shoulders. “I hate that shit.” He sneered, before cupping each of your breasts and pushing them up, planting his face snug in between. 

“I missed you.” He mouthed, kissing both. 

You giggled. “Are you talking to my tits.”

“I am appreciating the great things of life.” He murmured. 

“I hope appreciating them includes covering them in hickeys and cum.” You commented, caressing his hair as he kept trying to suffocate himself between your boobs. 

“What if I appreciated your dirty mouth first?” He teased, opening the tap to the shower and feeling the water temperature with the palm of his hand before bending down to take off his boxers. 

His cock was half mast, as glorious as you remembered it, the hair around kept just long enough to stay soft. 

As he noticed you staring, he snickered. “It looks like you really want to reacquaint with it.”

“Says the man who said ‘I missed you’ to my tits.” You teased.

“Fair enough.” He conceded, getting under the water falling from the shower head. 

Taking off your panties, you followed him in. 

“You look beautiful, Kitten.” He said, “a bit too thin, though.” He commented, running his hands up and down your sides. 

“All those nights in the gym took a toll.” You replied. 

“I still can’t believe you actually went to the gym.” He said, kissing your lips as light as a butterfly. “And just because you wanted to fuck but I was away.”

You shrugged, “the alternative was starting a very sapphic tryst with Vixen, but I don’t think Namjoon would have condoned it.”

Yoongi chuckled, “No, I don’t think so.” He admitted, massaging your ass under his palms. “Nice improvement.”

“I did Vixen’s workout. That girl is a fucking power plant.” You shook your head. “Completely crazy.”

“She is after all Namjoon’s girlfriend. I’m surprised he called her Vixen and not bunny or rabbit.” He shook his head. 

“Enough with the sweethearts. Give me the D, mr Min.” You said, getting on your knees. 

He laughed and ran his hand through your hair, while you scooted back towards the wall. You precisely knew how you wanted him. 

“Kitten. What is it.” He asked, looking at the way you parted your legs and crouched, making sure that your spine and the back of your head pressed against the wall, your heels tucked under your ass.

“I want you to fuck my mouth?” You said, eyes imploring, your hands already running down the back of his thighs, trying to bring him close. 

“You sure?” He asked, licking his lips repeatedly, swallowing once and then again in an attempt to bring comfort to his dry mouth. 

“Yeah.” You replied, looking up at him bringing your hand between your legs, testing your own wetness.

Your eyes met as he stroked his length a couple times before feeding the tip of his cock into your mouth, parted wide for him. “Tell me how deep I can go.” He murmured, pushing in slowly.

You placed your hands on his hips, pushing him deeper into your mouth. You wrapped your lips around him, covering the edge of your teeth and bobbing your head tentatively. His hand moved protectively to the crown of your head, trying to keep your head from hitting the wall. 

“Easy, tiger,” He said, chuckling, before his laugh stopped, interrupted by a moan. “Kitten, that's deep.” He murmured as you pushed him past the back of your tongue and deep into your throat. You kept him there for a couple seconds, focusing on the feel of him to avoid choking, before pushing him away. 

He placed the other hand on the wall, holding up his weight. “Are you okay, love?” He asked, noticing your reddened eyes and heavy breath. 

“Yes.” You murmured. “It feels so good to have you back.” You said, elated, as you pulled him back into your mouth, asking him with delicate motions of your arms to thrust into you.

“Missed your lips. Your tongue,” he moaned, groaning as you squeezed your cheeks against his tip. “So fucking good.” He combed your hair back and moved the hand from the wall to your chin, making you look up to him. “Look at me, ____.” He ordered you. “I want to look into your eyes as I fuck your mouth.” He leaned his forearm against the wall, plunging in with a gentle curl of his hips, his mouth wide, the water falling down his spine, his black locks plastered against his forehead. “I love your mouth. Your nasty tongue.” He drew out. “Touch yourself.” He growled, teasing you with his sexy voice. 

“Yoongi.” You moaned as he slid out. “Please.” You whimpered. 

“Please what, kitty.” He said, touching your face. 

“I want you to cum.” You cried out, scratching his abdomen lightly. 

“How do you want that?” He asked, brushing a few loose strands of hair off your face. 

“I want you to fuck my mouth.” You repeated, eager, your fingers rubbing in between your legs. 

“Then let me give you what you want, love.” He purred, grabbing his shaft and placing the soft, reddish tip right on your lower lip. “Is this what you want?” 

You nodded, begging him with your longing glance. 

He grinned sinfully and let his hip arch forward. 

He entered your mouth with a slow and steady stroke, giving you time to prepare yourself, until he was all the way in. 

“I'll never forget how it feels, Kitten. I've spent hours thinking about this.” He groaned, his chest heaving. 

And then he slipped out, only to stroke in again. You moaned a bit, and then kept quiet, focusing on the feel of him, on his eyes screwed shut, on the rhythmic contractions of his belly, on the flexing of his quads and his glutes. 

He was so beautiful, lost in bliss, chasing his high, stopping only when you tapped his leg twice. 

He let the tip rest on your tongue, “love that dirty mouth.” He praised you as you slurped and twirled your tongue around him. “Can never resist it.” He went on. 

Once more you pulled him towards you, humming wantonly. 

“Close, Kitten. Need your… Yes.” He groaned as you reached for his balls. “Sq–” 

He didn't have the time to give you orders: you were already doing his favourite things, massaging his sensitive spot, squeezing him gently until he sank deep into you and went silent for a couple seconds, not even breathing before he let a raspy roar tear from his mouth and echo in the small space. 

You shut your eyes tight as he gave the smallest thrust, burrowing deep into you as he spilled inside you, the lack of oxygen getting to your head, but still you tried opening your eyes, looking at Yoongi's lips hanging open, gasping for hair. 

His chest expanded in a deep breath. “For fuck’s sake.” His eyes opened slightly. 

He was leaning over you, the light dimmed by his body shielding you, the sound of the water precipitating against the floor a bit too loud for his ears and your own. 

You touched his leg twice and his eyes shot open as he slipped out quickly. “Damn it, you okay, Kitten?” He knelt between your legs, touching your cheeks and taking in your closed eyes and your chest heaving as you finally got some brand new oxygen in your lungs. 

“A bit short of breath.” You whispered, leaning into his touch and nuzzling into the crook of his neck. 

“Oh, precious.” He moved his hands behind your back, hugging you close. “Poor thing.”

“Don’t baby me.” You mumbled, raking your nails down his back, making him shiver.

“No?” He asked, smiling softly, rubbing his cheek against your hair. “You’re a tough cookie?”

You nodded with your eyes closed and he snickered. 

“My tough cookie.” He murmured, patting your head. “I missed you so much, beautiful. I love you.”

You untucked yourself from his shoulder and looked at him in the eye. “I love you, too.” You cooed. 

“What can I do for you, ____?” He asked, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

You dipped your head forward, hiding into him. “I want you close.” He felt his heart melt. 

“You don’t want me to fuck you?” He asked, simply caressing your head as you mouthed at his throat.

“Let’s finish the shower first.” You said, parting from him and standing up. 

He placed a chaste kiss on your hip as you stood before him, his tongue delving between your legs, tasting your honey-clad folds. “I swear the taste of your cunt keeps getting better and better.”

“We can take this to bed, Yoongi, now stand up and let me wash your hair.” You murmured, running your hands into his dark locks 

“You could wash my hair while I make out with your pussy.” He suggested. 

“I need to focus, stand up you menace.” You smirked playfully. 

He obeyed, bending his head forward, planting it between your tits. 

“Yoongi!” You said, playfully outraged. 

“Oh, come on.” He murmured. Immediately he found his usual spot and took it past his lips, sucking it with his teeth, rubbing it with his tongue while you found the bottle of his shampoo and poured some in your palm, rubbing your hands together and spreading the foam over his hair. 

“Don’t be a whiny pup.” You scolded him, spreading the soap over his scalp, carefully avoiding it going into his eyes. 

As he felt your fingers massaging his head, making sure that all the shampoo was rinsed off his hair, his lips accidentally parted in a wide yawn. 

“Let’s go to bed.” You murmured, maybe for the first time since you saw him downstairs, the dark circles underneath his eyes. 

You closed the tap quickly, stretching to reach a towel and drying him up, pressing the towel to his pained shoulder, dabbing the cotton softly before peppering a cascade of kisses on the skin. “We’re gonna put some lotion on this baddie.” You said, smiling gently at him. “Does it hurt?” Your lips still caressing his skin there while you kept drying him up, knowing how dangerous it was for him to stay wet under the air conditioning. He was delicate and something inside you, something affectionate and apprehensive, made you want to pamper him. 

“A bit.” He said, pouting, feeling like he could drop his facade now, abandoning himself to your gentle care.

He yawned again. “You had your orgasm and now you’re sleepy, kitty cat?” You teased, cooing at him cutely.

“I’m a bit jet-lagged,” he admitted, stealing a towel and opening it up, cupping your breasts from over the cotton, and then moving his attention elsewhere, brushing your belly, your arms, kneeling down and placing a small kiss on your lower belly, before rubbing the fabric over your legs, first one, then the other, helping your foot up and drying first your left, then your right one. 

“Where’s the lotion?” You asked, kissing his brow as he stood up. 

“In the carryon. It’s with the toiletries.” 

You quickly wrapped your towel around your body, exiting the room and looking for his large suitcase. You opened it, his laundry neatly folded inside, his beauty bag perfectly fitting in. As you rummaged into his beauty bag, you frowned, spotting a familiar bottle of lube and a small silicone pocket. A few condoms loose among his toiletries. 

Something in you hesitated. Even though you knew Yoongi would never, ever look at someone else, old ghosts of your ex immediately started tormenting you. 

You tried to ignore the unsettling feeling, blinking a few times before grabbing his shoulder lotion and heading for the kitchen, immediately finding a cold pack inside the freezer, and bringing it to the bedroom. You looked inside a drawer, finding a little kerchief or a bandana — whatever it was — and bringing it to the bedside table. 

Yoongi was laying in the middle of the bed, looking at you as you obstinately avoided his gaze. 

“Lay on your side.” You asked gently but coldly before he obeyed, still a bit confused at your change in mood. Was it because he hadn’t fucked you? Maybe you were okay with it, but now you weren’t anymore? Were you disappointed?

You poured some cold lotion on the round muscle, following the instruction he had taught you before he left, when he came home tired and sore from practice. And then again, his therapist had taught you some small tricks after the concert in Seoul, when you had accompanied him to the doctor the following day for his ordinary session. 

He hissed as the cold gel met his skin, while your thumbs dug into the skin gently but surely, massaging the stressed muscle. “It’ll warm up.” You said simply, spreading the lotion and massaging it where flesh and bone met. 

You opened the cold pack, cracking it in the middle and placing it behind his shoulder, where his shoulderblade and collarbone met. locking it into place by tying the bandana around it, running it around his armpit. “There you go. I’ll go rinse my hands.”

You hadn’t kissed him. Or looked at him. 

“Kitten.” He called, but you were already walking into the joined bathroom, willingly ignoring his call.

You opened the tap, rubbing the heavy stench of the gel off your hands, and then placing your clean, wet, cold palms against your cheeks, trying to calm down. 

You grabbed one of his t-shirts before you lowered the blinds, walking towards the bed and laying down on your side of the bed, curled up in a ball and sliding under the covers after turning on the air purifier. His eyes opened as you laid down, 

“Why are you wearing a shirt?” He asked. 

“I’m cold.” You replied briefly. 

“Kitten.” He called again. 

You turned away from him, taking a few deep breaths, pondering whether you should talk or not. 

“Kitten.”

“I found the condoms. In your bag.” You voice shook. “I know you would never do what he did but still.”

“Goodness.” He murmured, his breath freezing in his lungs. “Fuck. Kitten. Don’t.” He said calmly, with a reassuring tone, coming closer to you, hugging you to his chest, his tender arm coming around your body, while his good one moved under your head, pillowing it. “They’re there from when you came to our concert in Busan. Remember?” He said, kissing the crown of your head. “Remember Busan?”

You nodded. Of course you remembered. “I do.” You had changed birth control and you had used the condoms for safety. And accidentally — since you were already equipped — you had tried anal for the first time, quite to your surprise.  

“And I kept them there. Hoping that maybe you could find a way to come to one of the concerts. That maybe we could have a couple nights somewhere.” He explained, intertwining your fingers. “No one else. I swear to God, no one else, Kitten. No one else, ____.” 

You relaxed in his hold, kissing his arm under your head. “I’m so sorry. I know you would never. I trust you, but… You know how it feels.”

“I do, love. I know you trust me, baby.” He kissed your shoulder. “I’m so proud of you, being so strong, my love.” 

“Can you just hold me?” You asked, slowly slipping into complete relaxation. Even though you knew feeling him inside you would be the best form of reassurance, you abandoned the idea. Because, as much as you’d love him to ruin you, what you had missed the most while he was away was his hands combing your hair before falling asleep, his chest expanding and deflating against your back as he slept behind you, his hand gently placed on your chest, while you simply laid there, basking in the peacefulness of being together. You missed combing his hair, feeling the weight of his head resting in your arms, kissing his temple as he laid his head on your shoulder, you watching a movie while he pretended not to nap.

“There you go, Kitten.” He murmured against your nape, sprinkling little pecks all over your upper back. “I missed you.” He whispered, again, losing count of how many times he had said it. His body relaxed behind yours, his mind already thinking how he could possibly offer you true reassurance later — and repay you for the blowjob. In kind. With interests. Once he was sure you were sleeping, he stood up, looking into the drawer of your bedside table and smirking once he found the small case together with the charger. 

He considered he’d better recharge it and avoid unfortunate mishaps, he unplugged your bedside lamp and connected the charger, plugging it into the toy. Satisfied with the potential developments, he curled up around you; his eyelids fluttered closed, his yawns becoming stronger and more frequent, sleep conquering his body as your own muscles loosened with Morphean abandon. 

————————————

When Yoongi woke, it was already sundown, a gentle orange light coming in from the window. Around seven pm. 

First, he noticed that his shoulder felt better. Next, he noticed that you were wearing a shirt. 

Disappointing. 

And next, he realised that he was home. At your side. In your bed. 

Finally, he realised that he hadn’t yet seen you cum. He had been home for around six hours and he had spent the majority of those sleeping. When he could have made you cum on his tongue several times. 

He started considering his options. 

With quiet and discretion, he parted from your sleeping form, heading for the small drawer where he kept bedsheets, towels, underwear and sleeping clothes. There, under a blanket, he found exactly what he was looking for. 

“Yes.” He huffed out, placing his treasure on the drawer and fixing the rest, moving back to the bed together with the soft object. He removed the cold pack from his shoulder and spread the small two-layers blanket on the free side of the bed, planning to lay it out fully once he managed to wake you up. 

Now he only had to rouse you. 

He arched his eyebrows, thinking of how he could do that without getting his cock bitten off. 

You were a very smart and adult woman, but still you took your naps very seriously, acting like a whiny child whenever someone interrupted them. 

He crawled on top of the bed, curling up in a ball below you, pressing his knees to his shoulders as he gave a tentative lick on your naked labia, his tongue insinuating between your folds until he found your sweet nectar. 

Your hips moved against his face, just barely, an involuntary movement of your body. You were still asleep. 

He gave a full lick, as far as your position allowed. 

You fussed in your sleep, maybe mumbling his name, or maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him. He lifted your leg just enough to have access to your clit, the tip of his tongue toying with it, tapping it a couple times before he flexed his appendage and rubbed it against your sensitive spot, first in tiny licks, then in circular motions. 

“Yoongi,” this time you called for real. 

Finally happy with the result, he put down your leg and laid down behind you, placing his palm on your belly and sliding it under the shirt, feeling your naked skin. 

“Kitten?” He called, making sure that you were actually awake. 

“Yes.” You replied, your voice groggy.

“I want inside.” He murmured at your ear. 

“Yes.” You confirmed, mind still a bit hazy with sleep. 

“Yes what?” He asked with an arrogant chuckle. 

“Inside. Please.” You whimpered, your hand stretching behind you and grabbing his sex. 

“Let it be, Kitten. I’ll take care of it.” He slapped your hand away before he wrapped his fingers around his shaft, rubbing his tip against you. “You want it like this?” He said, nibbling your shoulder. “Want me from behind?”

You nodded, lifting your upper leg and hooking it back over his hip, offering him access. “You’re so good at spoons.”

He snickered. “Told you it was good.” He slid the tip in slowly, stretching your hole as the thick, red, spongy head breeched your inner cave. “Remember when we played twenty question here, in my house?” He said, voice raspy as he slid in all the way, stilling only once he bottomed out. 

“I do.” You replied with difficulty, through gritted teeth. “I rubbed you through your pants unti you came.”

“You were fingering yourself while jerking me off.” He murmured. “You were there, so open about your pleasure, so unashamed.” He kissed you below your ear, slowly sliding out. 

You whimpered as he parted from you, lifting your shirt and pushing his hand to your chest, his fingers immediately tweaking your nipple. You turned your head, trying to meet his lips, almost getting a crick in your neck at the effort. He slid in with a deep stroke, bending over you and joining your mouths. 

“In that moment I realised I had to have you.” He groaned against your mouth.

“We hadn’t even kissed and you were thrusting yourself into my hand.” You mewled as he rubbed against the tender tissue inside you. “God, you always hit my sweet spot like this.” You cried out, giving him a few squeezes. 

“So tight.” He cried out, purring against your ear. “And I hadn’t kissed you because I was afraid.” He said, almost as if he weren’t trying to possess every inch of you, as if it wasn’t the most difficult thing he had ever done, to stay perfectly still inside you as you milked him. 

“Afraid.” You said, provokingly. “Ten dates in two months and you were afraid.”

“I knew that the moment I got my tongue in your mouth, I would never slow down.” He murmured, pulling out just barely before ramming into you. “I wanted to hear you moan for me from the first time I heard your voice. So soft. So sexy.” He groaned against your ear. 

His hand moved to the other breast, your gaze focusing downwards, on his skeletal fingers, on the way they spread and constricted around your flesh. “Yoongi, I wanna cum.” You moaned, grinding your hips in circles while he gave tiny thrust that rubbed the head of his cock against your g-spot. “So good.” Your hand reached behind, grabbing his ass cheek and sinking your nails into the flesh, imprinting five red crescents into the skin, scratching it, marking it. 

His other arm slid beneath you, fumbling a little as he substituted the one on your breasts, while the other one, a bit freer, moved up, to slip his fingers into your mouth. “Suck them, Kitten. Moan around them.” He said, pressing his index and middle finger on your tongue. “Make them wet before I rub them on your clit.” He murmured, giving small circles with his hips, feeling you clench around him. 

“Close.” You moaned while he moved his fingers away from your tongue, right on your sensitive bud. 

“Come on. Cum for me.” He groaned, rubbing his palm delicately over your nipple, teasing it barely, only the tip meeting the rough skin of his calluses. “Cum on my cock. Claim it. Come on.” He said, his voice strained, his hips pushing with quick small strokes, focusing on caressing and pressing against your sweet spot. 

“Yoo—” You tried to speak his name but your mouth stayed open, a loud scream ripping from your throat, as it all became too much. “Yoongs, wait, fuck, too good!” You screamed as his fingers kept teasing you insistently, overstimulating you. “Yoongs, fuck, another!” You felt his thrusts become faster, harder as your second high approached. 

“No no no no, please, stop!” You screeched, trying to tug his wrist away, while he kept it against your mound, tucked in tight. 

“You know the word, ____.” He growled as he gave a few final strokes inside you, your whole body shaking with effort, your second high so incredibly strong that it took your voice away, your ears filled with a shrill beeping sound. “So good.” He hummed pushing your back into his chest as he stayed deep inside you, coating your cunt with his seed as he gave a couple tentative thrusts. “So fucking good, Kitten.”

“Yoongi,” you murmured with your voice hoarse. 

“The whole neighbourhood will know about you getting that good dick,” He teased, slipping out of you and holding you tight, rolling you on top of him, and then on the other side of the bed, where he had laid the special blanket just for you. 

“There’s the blankie.” You said, surprised. 

“Yup. I laid the blankie for you.” He said, as he noticed you sitting up and tearing your t-shirt off your torso, throwing it away before you rolled your body on your front. 

You smiled and nuzzled into the soft microfiber, anticipating the special treatment you were about to get. 

“Are you ready, Kitten?” He asked, rubbing your ass, then letting his finger walk up your spine, carding through your hair and grabbing it, massaging your scalp with his hooked fingers. 

“Yes, please.” You said, half still dizzy with your previous orgasms, and half dizzy with the anticipation for the ones that were about to come. 

“Would you like to stay on your front?” He asked, stretching to the bedside table and unplugging the device, placing it away from your curious eyes. 

“Yes? And then turn around?” You asked, turning your head to look at him, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Maybe you could play with my boobs, choke me a little, then fuck me again?” You said, arching your back and pushing your ass up, trying to lure him in, and at the same time rubbing your sensitive nipples against the soft fabric. 

“Greedy little beast.” He said, patting your head affectionately. 

You pushed your face against it, like an obedient little cat. 

“Stay put, Kitten. I’ll come back in a second.” He said, dashing for the entry room lightning fast, rummaging in his backpack for his phone, finding it and murmuring a “aha!” before he headed back to the bedroom the small toy still placed in his palm, his fingers wrapped tight around it. 

As he entered the bedroom he slowed down, looking at you kneeling with your ass up, your front pressed against the mattress, your arm trapped underneath you as your fingers played peekaboo between your legs, tickling your folds like the long, spindly legs of a spider. 

“You got started without me?” He asked, looking at you with his phone in his hand, his other palm unfolding as he let the vaginal vibrator dangle from his fingers pinching the small cord that simplified extraction. 

“Fuck it, I love you.” You chuckled, pushing your fingers inside, feeling how deeply he had stretched you. 

“You only love me for the sex.” He said, grinning, making the vibrator swing back and forth like a pendulum. 

“That’s not true.” You said, whimpering as you hit a really good spot. You giggled. “I also love you because you’re fucking filthy.” You teased. 

He grinned his signature gummy smile and brought the toy to his face, his lips parting wide and wrapping around it, sucking it in his mouth. 

Your eyes went wide at the gesture, the cord dangling like the tail of a mouse caught in the cat’s clutches. 

He crawled behind you, placing down his phone as he caressed the back of you thighs, grabbing your ass and massaging it with his firm, strong hands. 

“Put it in?” You asked, wiggling your butt in his grasp. 

His right hand parted from your skin, pinching the cord and tugging at it, the toy popping out with a loud noise. “My filthy babe wants her cunt filled?” He asked, licking at his cum as it has oozed out of your slit, coating your inner thighs. 

“Please, Yoongi.” You purred, using your fingers to part your labia. 

He snickered and placed the toy on your entrance, letting it slide in one millimeter at the time. 

You felt every single second of it, the slightly oval shape calling for a barely-there stretch at the tip, but hitting an almost-burning sensation once you reached the widest part, Yoongi devilishly stopping it there, his other hand disappearing from your leg. 

That’s when the vibration started. Slow, steady, almost imperceptible. 

“Yoongs...” You whined, stretching the vowels in a whining tone. 

“Oh, quiet.” He shushed you, putting down the phone to caress your spine, “Be a good girl.” He murmured, scratching your butt before slapping it playfully. “You should keep up with the work out. Look at this ass.” He said, before letting his teeth sink in it. 

You screamed, the toy finally sliding all the way in. 

The vibrations started propagating inside you, together with his teeth tightening on your flesh. He would leave a mark for sure. It was only a matter of how harsh it would be, how long it would last. 

He parted from your butt, pondering for a second whether he thought it a good idea to run his tongue down the junction of the two ass cheeks, teasing the hole in between. 

Not yet. He felt like he should discuss it with you first. 

To silence his doubts he parted from you, admiring the view, letting it eventually suggest him how to proceed. 

He wished he could preserve the moment in his mind forever, even if he couldn’t quite see your face, your pretty nose scrunched and eyes shut as you focused on the feeling between your legs, trying to make it good enough to lead you to pleasure once more. 

With his phone he let the intensity of the vibration grow just a bit. A very, very tiny bit. 

“More.” You mewled, your fingers rubbing your clit. 

There was his suggestion. 

Sliding his hand up against your side, then forward, near your belly, he managed to take control of your wrist, pushing it away and trapping it behind your back. “I’m gonna give you more, but that’s all you’re gonna get, Kitten.” He warned, letting his thumb increase the vibration on the touch screen of his phone. 

“Fuck it. Yes.” You said, as the stimulus became medium-intense. 

And then mild again. “Don’t mess with me please, just please!” You cried out, writhing against nothing, parting your legs wider as he noticed the cord hang between your leg twitching with the tight contractions of your cunt. 

“Oh, I shouldn’t?” He raised the controller all the way up. 

“YOONGI!” You screamed, your body out of control as your legs gave out, pushing your hips against the mattress, the soft fiber of the blanket feeling divine on the delicate tip of your clit. 

And then again the vibration quieted down, your brow furrowing as you felt your eyes get watery, huffing out, panting and grunting as you looked for relief, grinding against the bed desperately.

With a grin he let the vibration flutter on a middle ground, giving you a fleeting feeling of stronger and weaker stimulation. 

“How does your tiny cunt feel, Kitten? Is it tight? Wet? Warm?” He asked, provokingly. 

“It feels very— Yoongi!” You called again as he let you begin talking comfortably and then turned the vibrations all the way up, making you tear up and cry out his name. 

“That’s right.” He said. “It feels me.” He toyed with the cursor on the upper side of the screen, letting it oscillate among the higher values. “It feels only me. Because that’s my cunt.” He said, talking over your small hiccups and whines. “And it’s the only cunt I want to be inside.” He snarled, bringing the controller down low again, your desperate sniffling making him feel compassionate as he let the vibrations go to the maximum and left them there, his torso rising over you as he let a dollop of spit fall from his lips to your puckered hole, his hand leaving your wrist and spreading over your ass, his thumb spreading his spit and pressing enough to cause a stimulation but gently, not to violate your delicate entrance. 

“I’m so close.” You cried out, panting, your mouth so dry as you felt the wet slide of his finger between your ass cheeks, on the sensitive skin of your anus, where even the slightest outer pressure echoed inside tenfold. 

“Cum for me.” He groaned, picking up your hips and laying his front against your back, rutting his crotch against the seam of your ass.

“I’m— Oh—” You stayed silent as the high rushed over you, an incredible amount of wetness pouring out of your slit, getting caught in the blanket, just the way it was supposed to, the double layer protecting the sheets below. “Oh, Yoongs, babe.” You said, your whole body falling down, your legs kicking and twitching as the vibration stayed too high on your still delicate spot. 

“I wanna ride your face, quick I’m gonna c—” You tried to focus on not squirting again, waiting for him to get in place. 

Mercifully, he turned down the vibrations, laying on his back, parting your knees and sliding below your pelvis, his mouth immediately finding your clit while you raised your front on your elbows, so you could make more room for him — but also to feel your breasts hang heavily, and to tease your nipples while the whole scene carried out. 

Yoongi started sucking almost immediately, one of his hands spread on your ass, rubbing it and squeezing it, the other one toying with the controller, giving you that rhythmic increasing and decreasing stimulation while you got used to the feel of him on your clit. 

And once more you were close, your inner muscles shaking violently as he hummed against you, clicking his tongue fast against your delicate bundle of nerves. 

And just like that, your hips started undulating gently above him, giving him the sign to leave the vibrations high up as you moved your weight on your hands, raising your upper body to look a his eyes focused on your bouncing tits, on your parted mouth, on your eyes, rolling shut as you gushed on him, your cum covering his upper chest as you grabbed your left breast in your palm, constricting it in your painfully tight fist, while your hips went wild on him, fucking your clit into his mouth, moving so hard and fast that he lost his grip on it while you rubbed yourself all over his face, meeting his nose, his chin and simply chasing the feel of the hard surface of his lineaments against your overstimulated clitoris. 

He basked in it, after all the time it had taken to have you this wild, this reckless while his mouth worked his magic on you. You had began your experience with him as a shy novice in the art of getting head, but now here you were, spreading your wetness all over his nose and chin and lips and dammit, forehead too, riding him with the prowess of a tiger, glorious in all your ruthless lust. 

He was aroused by your confidence and it took him a while to realise that you had collapsed over him, crying, begging, your legs kicking against the mattress while your hand had left your breast and had tightened its grip into his hair, keeping his face still first while he tried to move it side to side. Now oversensitive, with tears in your eyes, you pushed his head away, down, off of you. 

“Yoongi. Please. Oh, god. Icycle, Yoongi. Icycle.” You sobbed, your voice breaking as he quickly found the cord and pulled the vibrator out of you. 

And there you were, laying barely alive on the bed, his head under your hips, the toy vibrating on the bed, somewhere. 

He allowed himself one brief second before he lifted your hips and slid out from below you. “Kitten,” He said, worried, wiping his face and chest with a corner of the blanket while he switched off the toy, trying to turn you around, on your back, so he could see you properly. 

Obeying to his insistent hands, you turned, showing him your eyes rimmed with tears, your wild hair, your chest, still shaking with sobs and hiccups. 

“Poor Kitten.” He said, caressing your face. “You had to use your safeword, baby? Are you okay?” He asked, cupping your cheek and kissing you. 

You immediately wrapped yourself around him as he laid on top of you, your lower lip pouting. “I want you closer.” You said, grinding your hips against his hard sex. 

“Need to be fucked by my cock?” He asked. “Again?” With a gentle expression, he parted from you enough to pump his length a couple times before you felt him enter you. 

The sensation was different. With the vibration gone, all you felt was the fullness, the thrusting motion that he started straight away now that your cunt was slippery and wide. 

“Hard and fast, love?” He asked, checking on you. 

You nodded. “If possible, then yes.” You said. “Can I please touch myself? I’m not sure I can cum without after that...” You explained, his head nodding as he already dove for your tits, tightening his hand around your neck — more precisely your jugular — while his mouth focused on your left nipple. 

You felt him beginning to hammer into you, at the beginning with slow, thorough slides that had you feeling every single vein, from the tip to the base. And then he simply focused on the angle, your head growing dizzy as you gurgled his name, helpless, desperate, horny out of your mind, completely fucked out. 

“Does it feel good, Kitten?” He asked, releasing your breast and focusing on your neck, biting and leaving a few bruises and hickeys around. 

“Always.” You whispered, meeting his thrusts. 

“Then move in with me.” He said, pouncing on you in the most unexpected moment. 

“What?” You said, trying to open your eyes, to focus on his expression, his crunched nose, his lips parted and his hair sticking to his forehead with wet locks, the vein on his neck popping out every time he thrusted in and bit his lip in an attempt to control himself. 

“Move.” Thrust. “In.” Thrust. He said, grunting. 

He hit a very good angle, your fingers stilling on your clit. “Yoongi—” With a very smooth stroke, he made your eyes roll close, your lips parting in a tiny word. Very tiny. 

“Yes.” You sibilated. 

“Yes?” He asked again. 

He had probably fucked you dumb and brainless. 

“Yes.” You whispered again. 

“I’m gonna fuck you so good in our home.” He said, ramming in with renewed enthusiasm, finding a speed and an intensity you didn’t think his delicate body could muster. 

“Our home.” You murmured, pushing your heels into his butt and meeting his thursts with impatient little moans as you felt your last high approach, your eyes rolling shut as he tightened the pressure on your veins and finally collapsed on top of you, your fingers strumming your clit a couple more times before you felt that definite clenching; his mouth releasing a tiny hum as he gave two small strokes, his lungs releasing a long exhale. 

“You’re moving in.” He said, exhausted on top of you. “I love you.”

In the small limbo between death and life, in the postorgasmic bliss of the French ‘small death’, you wore a small smile. “You fucked me dumb enough to make me say yes.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard my D is your kryptonite.” He joked, giggling weakly. 

“This was probably your best performance, mr. Min.” You said, patting his head. “Really fucked me dumb. Cunnilingus so good I cried. It’s a ten across the board, love.”

“Well, now that you’re moving in I’ll have a lot more time to defeat my new record. Upgrade. Improve. Elevate.” He nibbled your nipple. “Outdo myself.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing. Good: getting the D anytime. Bad: having multiple near death experiences in a week. I might have to reconsider moving in.” You mumbled, combing his hair. 

“I’ll simply have to keep you dumbfucked twenty-four-seven.” He pondered. “Can do.”

You giggled. “Can do.”

[hawkinsschoolcounselor]

Why do you think so many fans, even those who wouldn’t be considered casual viewers of the show think that those who romantically ship Mike and Will are kidding themselves? Sometimes I feel like I’m missing something, like we’re not even watching the same show. From my perspective, it’s beyond me to how someone could look at Mike and El’s romantic relationship, especially after s3, and think it’s proper.

Great question. I’ve touched on this issue a time or two before, but perhaps never in such a direct manner. I think there’s several things in play here that lead to the more “mainstream” fans considering it crazy when Mike and Will are seen as a romantic pairing. I think these same causes also lead to fans missing how improper, to use your terms, Mike and El’s relationship is. Some of these things are more valid than others, but they’re all valid in the sense that they are real, meaning that people aren’t just being petty. There are those out there who are petty, of course, but I think it’s unfair to cast all fans we disagree with in with that group.

First, let’s get this out of the way, heteronormativity maintains quite the stranglehold on American culture. Yes, we’ve come a long, long way. Gay characters and couples are portrayed in a much more positive light compared to twenty or more years ago. Still, they continue to be treated as a shock, either in behavior or reveal. By that I mean that these characters are either blatantly obvious or a complete surprise. There is seldom any middle ground here. This is, in my opinion anyway, a remnant of the transition of gay characters from caricatures to genuine characters. Fans, American fans at least, want to seem accepting to gay people, but they also want it crystal clear that gay people are different from them. To quote Homer Simpson from Homer’s Phobia, a 1997 episode of The Simpsons, “I like my beer cold, my TV loud, and my homosexuals flaming!”

The 90s were a time when gay people were starting to be seen as decent people instead of deviants. They still weren’t equal, though, and were often used as props and novelties. The Gay Best Friend trope came out of this idea that gay people were fun and exotic, and many would also use them as a way to show how progressive they were. It was a step in the right direction, perhaps, but gay people were still not seen as equals.

Why is this important? Well, maybe it’s not, but not only is Stranger Things the product of two brothers who grew up in that era of thinking, but so is the largest segment of the viewership. Most Stranger Things viewers fall in the 18-29 and 30-44 demographics. I, myself, fall in the latter category. While we all laughed at Homer’s idiotic homophobia, we all knew deep down that we were similarly taken in by stereotypes and heternormativity. That is to say, that being straight was the normal, expected way of things, and gay people was something neat and trendy, but that only happened to other people.

This mindset persists today, though it does seem to be slowly eroding. We still expect most characters to be straight. I suppose, in some ways, this makes sense. The majority of people in America (and likely the world) still identify as heterosexual, so, technically, statistically, being LGBT is “abnormal.” Still, the degree to which I see LGBT people being open about their identities sometimes catches me off guard when I stop to think about it. It’s something that was unimaginable when I was a teenager, barring being in an identified gay club or neighborhood. The fact that it catches me off guard, despite identifying as bisexual, is proof that those mechanisms of my upbringing persist.

I am able to see the romantic undertones of Mike and Will’s relationship because I’ve been there. I’ve been in love with a same-sex friend and been afraid to say anything about it. I’ve agonized over whether it was real or just a phase. I’ve struggled with hiding it. I’ve tried to keep my feelings hidden while also letting them slip out in controlled bursts of not-quite-platonic gestures. I’ve even wondered how I could be “like that” when I acted and dressed just like any other guy I knew. Despite living it, I still saw “it” as something foreign and different. It’s only because I lived it that I can see through the heteronormativity and recognize homosexual love in “straight” TV and movie characters. I’m sorry, but Poe Dameron was definitely into Finn, and Finn, at the very least, idolized Poe, and you can’t convince me otherwise, no matter what Disney tried to pull by giving them both inconsequential female love interests.

(Christ, this is turning into a real rant here, oh well, the bottle has been opened.)

So, yeah, heteronormativity basically tells us that if characters are gay then they’ll act a “certain way” so we know. Mike and Will don’t do this, so, to most fans, they aren’t gay. Heteronormativity and pop culture tropes also tell us that male and female leads are meant to end up together. Now, in defense of other fans, the Duffers do play around with all sorts of tropes, so it’s understandable that people would expect things to be just as formulaic in Stranger Things. The problem these fans don’t see, however, is that the Duffers seem to like subverting the tropes.

For those of you who aren’t aware, subverting a trope means that we are led to believe that we’re being shown something we’ve seen time and time again, only to end up with something else. Season 1 was so big on this that I fell in love with the show. Adults Are Useless? Joyce did not sit around while the kids solved the mystery. Hopper wasn’t the ineffectual drunk cop I was expecting him to be. Jerk Jock? No, Steve is actually a nice, if dopey, guy once he stops letting his friends influence him. Virgin Survivor? No, sex is not seen as a vice needing to be punished, so Barb dies instead of Nancy. The Duffers know what we expect to see, they tease us with it, then pull the rug out from under us.

So, what do we expect in terms of romance? We expect our opposite sex leads to pair up. This would mean Mike & El and Joyce & Hopper as our kid and adult lead pairs, respectively. Mike & El, in particular, seems to be something they’ve tantalized fans with, both in the show and marketing. We can look at that relationship, though, and see that it’s not built on much. That’s somewhat in line with many kid relationships, so, really, it’s expected that it would similarly fizzle out as those relationships generally do. These are two kids who knew each other for a week, then spent a year apart. If anything, they’re more in love with the ideas of each other they created in that time apart than anything else. This could explain why their relationship was so shallow once they’re together again. We all experienced this type of crush or relationship before, the one where we don’t really know the person so we create a version of them in our minds. This version often clashes with the real one once we get to know them. Still, we’ve all been there.

This brings me to my final point: identification. We identify with characters when we watch TV shows and movies. I dare say most, if not all, of us can identify with these kids getting these crushes and early relationships. The youngest fans probably identify even more since they’re currently in those stages of life. I’m sure many young fans identify with either Mike or El, and perhaps fantasize about being with the other (or both?). Whether we realize it or not, we’re casting our own wants and needs onto the characters. Some fans want Mike and El together because it validates their own feelings and experiences.

I know that I certainly identify with Mike and Will through my own teenage experiences. I identify with other characters for more mature, adult reasons, as well. Yes, a part of me ships Mike and Will because of this. The difference here, compared to other ships I’ve gotten behind, is that this actually seems real. There is canon evidence that Mike and Will appear to have non-platonic feelings for each other, feelings built over a very long friendship. Mike legit seems like the closeted, possibly not even aware, gay kid going through the motions of a straight relationship. Will seems like he’s actively suppressing any romantic urges because he’s spent his life being bullied for being queer. They’ve been written to have more genuinely romantic moments than Mike and El have had. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, the writers will have some explaining to do if they don’t get together. Many fans will miss it, due to the reasons mentioned above, but it’s all been laid there before us. Nobody should be surprised, but they will be.

[gameofdrarry]

Wizards Hearts Recs: Soulmates

Wizards Hearts was a four-month-long Drarry reading fest. Players were given a playing deck of 52 tropes, and were asked to find 52 different fics to read and comment on to fill their decks. To prevent the same few fics from being read, fics were restricted to only being used for the game three times before being considered ineligible for further points. The tropes and submissions list can be found here.

Check out the masterlist of fics for this trope below the cut!

📜 survival is a talent by ShanaStoryteller Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  367490 Tags: Soulmate AU, Indian Harry Potter, Black Hermione Granger, canon? i don't know her, Slow Build, Lucius Malfoy is a bad person but a good father, Parselmouth Harry Potter, Smart Draco Malfoy, I'm offended that's a tag OF COURSE he's smart, sometimes bad things happen, but this fic isn't out to hurt you, Secret Relationship, Slytherins and Gryffindors being reluctant friends, Plotty, suprising lack of focus on soulmates for a soulmate au Summary:  In the middle of their second year, Draco and Harry discover they're soulmates and do their best to keep it a secret from everyone. Their best isn't perfect. ~ “Are you trying to get killed, Potter?” Malfoy drawls, stalking forward. Quick as a serpent himself, he reaches out and grabs the snake just below the head. It thrashes in his grip, but is no longer able to bite anyone. “This is a poisonous snake, and I doubt anyone brought a bezoar with them.” Harry glares. He opens his mouth, and feels the beginning the snake’s language pass his lips, and this isn’t what he wants, what’s the point of insulting Malfoy if he can’t understand him – Malfoy’s eyes widen. He slaps his hand over Harry’s mouth, “Potter, what the hell–” ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Vortex by xanthippe74 Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  20625 Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, POV Draco Malfoy, Down and Out Draco Malfoy, Azkaban, Knockturn Alley, Redemption, Poverty, Angst with a Happy Ending, Auror Harry Potter, brief mention of past suicide attempt, brief mention of past self-harm, Past medical abuse (over-prescription of Calming Draught), Non-graphic off-screen injury Summary:  “Don’t worry, my dearest one,” Draco’s mother told him when he confided his worries to her. When he was old enough to feel the pangs of adolescent longing, but still too young to sense the storm gathering around them. “Magic will overcome any distance or obstacles to bring two soulmates together when the time is right. Circumstances will arise that steer them in the right direction; strange coincidences will make their paths cross again and again. Then the most wondrous moment arrives, when you both realize that your soulmate, your perfect match, stands before you, and from that day forward your hearts will be one.” Ten years after that conversation, the idea of perfectly-matched soulmates feels more like a curse than a blessing to Draco. Who would want a soulmate who was a schoolyard bully, a Death Eater, and a convicted felon? Certainly not Harry Potter. And Draco is determined to take this secret to the grave. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Tie My Heart to Yours by Craftybadger1234 Rated:  Mature Words:  36661 Tags: Rape/Non-conHogwarts Eighth Year, Potions, Red String of Fate, Soulmates, Depression, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Child Abuse, Angst, Getting to Know Each Other, Mild Sexual Content, Mildly Dubious Consent, Fluff, Bisexual Draco Malfoy, Happy Ending Summary:  For fun, Slughorn has the eighth year students brew a potion to reveal their Red Strings of Fate. Harry doesn't know what to think about being tied to Draco. Or how to make a relationship work between them. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Highly (in)Compatible by daisymondays Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  36828 Tags: Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Romance, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Post-Hogwarts, Denial of Feelings, anxiety mention, References to Depression, Panic Attacks, Forced Dating, Enthusiastic Consent, POV Draco Malfoy, Humor, Magical Theory, Soulmate Theory, HP: EWE, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Forced Proximity Summary:  Draco’s been shagging The Prat Who Lived on and off for a few months when his soul mark starts to change. Draco’s had to accept a lot of adjustments to his life, but accepting that Harry Potter could be his soulmate is one step too far. It can’t be true? Can it? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 A Tale of Woo by Veritas03 Rated:  Mature Words:  25330 Tags: N/A Summary:  Harry’s a bit of a mess, despite a successful Quidditch career. Draco’s not too much of a mess, but believes his life is as good as it’s likely to get. Both want something more. Fate is going to help them out with that. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 With You, Always by acupforslytherin Rated:  Mature Words:  14542 Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Hogwarts Era, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Explicit Sex, Dreams, Lullabies, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, hearing, TasteofSmut 2020 Summary:  All his life, Harry repeatedly hears one same calming tune in his dreams. No one seems to recognize the mysterious song, until one day, Harry catches Malfoy humming it when he thinks he's alone. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Not By Duty Are We Bound by Dreaming_of_a_Bright_Sky Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  17176 Tags: Graphic Depictions of ViolenceAU, Soul Bond, Hurt/Comfort Summary:  Draco Malfoy has saved Harry's life so many times that it's joked about (and even bet upon) by the Aurors Harry works with. When Harry finds out how and why, it forces him to see a reality that he'd been blinding himself too. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 All Our New Years by Frayach Rated:  Mature Words:  2525 Tags: New Year's Eve, Soulmates, Minor Character Death Summary:  It takes too many New Year's Eves without each other but eventually they get it right. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Changing Tides by carpemermaid Rated:  Explicit Words:  109687 Tags: Bisexual Harry Potter, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Dumbledore's Army, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Partners, Auror Draco Malfoy, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Patronus, Gardens & Gardening, Cultural References, POV Draco Malfoy, Hogwarts Fifth Year, POV Alternating, POV Harry Potter, Wandless Magic, Coming of Age, Mutual Pining, War AU, Romance, Falling In Love, Humor, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Healing, Post-War, Ministry of Magic, Minor Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Soulmates, Community: hd_erised, Sexual Fantasy, Wet Dream, Snogging, Frottage, Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Non-Penetrative Sex, Emotional Sex, Hand Jobs, Professor Harry Potter, Person of Color Harry Potter Summary:  Draco has spent half of his life spouting the things his father has taught him without much thought about how he feels about what he says. When he unexpectedly comes face to face with the Dark Lord, he grapples with the harsh realities of the world and struggles with his changing views on life. Instead of doing what’s expected of him fifth year, he joins Dumbledore’s Army and learns how to defend himself, how to make his own choices, and how he can be something greater than his father’s example as he grows into his own man rather than his father’s shadow. The choices he makes change both his and Harry’s fates, intertwining their paths until they converge. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Everything a Word Can Mean by OTPshipper98 Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  2355 Tags: Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Sectumsempra Scars, Pre-Hogwarts, Hogwarts Era, Post-Hogwarts, Foot Massage, Nicknames, Cuddles, Happy Ending, Drunken Confessions, Getting Together Summary:  In a world where magical people are born with the nickname their soulmate will call them by tattooed on their skin... what does it mean that the word on Harry's chest is the thing he hates to be called the most? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Danse Russe by Frayach Rated:  Explicit Words:  140119 Tags: Novella, Soulmates, Angst, HP: EWE, Explicit Sexual Content, World Travel, not a wip Summary:  True Love. Soul Mates. They're just words until put to the test. Harry and Draco have a bond that was forged in the hell of the post-war years and pulled them both back from an abyss of nihilism and self-destruction. Nothing can break it, or so they believed. But True Love can demand sacrifices too great to bear and deeds too terrible to justify. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 A breath worth of life by Explicit Rated:  Explicit Words:  39791 Tags: H/D Hurt!Fest 2020, Soulmates, Terminal Illnesses, Death, Preparing for Death, Minor Character Death, Grief/Mourning, breaking up, Loneliness, Depression, Self-Hatred, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Suicidal Thoughts, Heavy Drinking, Therapy, Grief counselling, Vomit, Hospitals, Cruise, Pirates, Treasure hunts, parenting, blended families - Freeform, It Takes a Village to Raise a Child, Magic Theory, Healer Hermione Granger, Cursebreaker Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Accidental Bonding, love is the most powerful magic, Breathplay, Domesticity, Weddings, proposal, vactioning, hermione deserves all the awards, Kópakonan saves the day, Italians do it better, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Draco is father of the year, Ron is father of the year, Harry is not even in the competition, PoC Harry, POC Hermione, Long-Haired Draco Malfoy, long-haired Harry Potter, Short-haired Draco, Short-haired Harry, questionable medical ethics get handwaved here for the sake of fun, close encounters with ponies puffins sheep and other assorted fauna, Trans Luna Lovegood, Casual Sex Summary:  ‘...that moment when everything clicks into place, when the circumstances are right, your magic aligns, and you touch your soulmate. You'll know then, Draco, my darling.’ His mother used to look at his father with such devotion then. ‘It will feel like breathing fresh air for the first time, you'll know you'd been living on borrowed time until then but no more. There is an entire lifetime in that one breath.’ Finding your soulmate is the one way a wix can hope to live past thirty, but if he can’t have that with Astoria, Draco is ready to check out, let his magic eat him up and be done. Harry, on the other hand, isn’t about to leave any stone unturned or path unbeaten until he finds the one person meant for him before that fated birthday rolls around. After every failed attempt he grows more and more convinced that whatever Voldemort did to him might have made him unlovable, but he will go down fighting if he has to. Hermione still thinks the whole thing is cancer but what does she know? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Today, Forever by PalenDrome (nerdherderette), PotterArt Rated:  Explicit Words:  60958 Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Voyeurism, Frottage, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Rimming, Anal Sex, Auror Harry Potter, Veela Draco Malfoy, Winged Draco Malfoy, Veela Mates, Bonding, Soulmates, Enemies to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Draco Malfoy/OMC (brief), Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Case Fic, Minor Violence, Minor Character Death, Magical Theory, Magical Biology, Muggle and Wizarding Technology, Digital Art, Embedded Images, Harry/Draco Big Bang 2018, Community: harrydracobang Summary:  As if his recent divorce and sleepless nights weren’t bad enough, a rash of escalating crimes against purebloods forces Harry and his team of Aurors to protect the riskiest target in all of Wizarding Britain. Of course, Draco Malfoy would still be ridiculously infuriating and impossibly gorgeous. As well as a Veela. Who happens to be Harry’s mate. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Dragon Heartstrings by JET_Playin Rated:  Explicit Words:  23825 Tags: Soulmates, Red String of Fate, Explicit Sexual Content, HP: EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Angst, Fluff, Romance, Implied Relationships, Top Harry, Bottom Draco, Falling In Love, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Tall!Harry, Misunderstandings, Oblivious Harry, Oblivious Draco Malfoy, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary:  Draco has seen the strings for almost as long as he can remember, but they don't mean anything. Anything at all.... ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Love and Paranoia by sunnyeclipses Rated:  Explicit Words:  48547 Tags: Post-Hogwarts, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Addiction recovery, Near Death Experiences, Overdosing, Relapsing, Drinking, Partying, Drunkenness, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, wall punching, Concern Over Someone Else's Weight, Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Caretaking, Pining, Falling In Love, Slow Burn, Explicit Sexual Content, Self-Esteem Issues, Auror Harry Potter, Down and Out Draco Malfoy, Domestic, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Minor Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Minor Theodore Nott/Pansy Parkinson, Minor Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood, Hurtful Comments About Drug Use, Brief suicide ideation, Christmas, Pets, Sharing a Bed, Weddings, supportive friends, Forced Proximity, classic literature, H/D Erised 2020 Summary:  When Harry finds out his soulmate is none other than Draco Malfoy, he genuinely expects his life to go to shit. It doesn't help that Draco is an addict, coasting on reality-altering highs to feel something happy, something pure just once more before the comedown. What Harry doesn't expect is to care so much that it tears him apart at the seams. A story about love, drugs, and getting better. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Every Me and Every You by bixgirl1 Rated:  Explicit Words:  69300 Tags: Forced Proximity, bed sharing, Legilimency, Veritaserum, Snark, Magical Theory, Tropes (please read author's note!), EWE, Falling In Love, Frotting, Mutual Masturbation, Rimming, magical sex, Really just all the sex, Gift Fic, UST, RST, Soulmates Summary:  Harry liked his life just fine, thankyouverymuch — so it was bad enough when a sly fairy cursed him to leap into alternate realities. But seeing Malfoy in all of them? Definitely way too much. And worse yet: needing the bastard's help to figure out how to get out of of it. It was a disaster waiting to happen, really. Well... probably. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 you've got the antidote for me by Kandakicksass Rated:  Mature Words:  20730 Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soul Bond, Red String of Fate, Heavy Angst, Terminal Illnesses, Major Illness, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary:  When Harry Potter unintentionally severs their soulbond before it can fully form, Draco Malfoy resigns himself to a slow death and decides not to burden Harry with a soulmate he's made it very clear he doesn't want. He's never been selfless before, but for Harry, he can try. ❤️ Read on AO3

[planetesastraea]

On the tip of his tongue

Read Part 1: On the Tip of his Fingers

Geraskier, Modern AU - Explicit - 10 179 words - Warnings: none

Character study, developing relationship, banter, feelings, Geralt vs words, bisexual!Geralt, bottom!Geralt, top!Jaskier, first time, handjobs, blowjobs, anal sex. Also contains pizza (mentioned)

Betaed by the wonderful @oxbridge-quality-fanfiction-co​​

Read on AO3

-

That morning Jaskier got woken up by a soft but firm hand on his shoulder and a husky voice saying his name.

“Hmmf?” was his very articulate reply, definitely worthy of the Creative Writing and Composition in Medieval Times professor he was. “Three words or less,” he would always say to motivate his students to answer questions during class and to start a conversation. Damn, they would have been proud.

“I gotta go,” the deep voice whispered and the previous evening suddenly came back to Jaskier. Geralt. Wow. Geralt . He sat up and blinked a few times before realising his eyes were open but the sun wasn’t up yet. Geralt was but a silhouette in the dark, his smell a mix of long-forgotten aftershave and well remembered sex.

“Mmokay,” Jaskier mumbled, rubbing one eye with his palm. “Thanks for telling me,” he said sleepily. There was a pause and he realised the sentence didn’t land well.

“Sorry. Didn’t want to sneak out,” Geralt replied tightly.

“Yeano, yeah- I meant it. Sorry. Me,” Jaskier said, pointing towards his own face in the dark, and thus proving the point to no one but himself, “not a morning person.”

Geralt snorted softly. Jaskier was overcome with a powerful wave of fondness and a guttural need to reach out and kiss him. Gods bless adorable bi himbos at law.

“I should get going,” Geralt said and Jaskier thought he heard some hesitation in his voice. The mattress dipped slightly as Geralt moved to stand up, and Jaskier reached out blindly. His hand found the inside of Geralt’s elbow and then slid down softly to the man’s wrist, finding his palm.

“Wait,” Jaskier said and Geralt waited. Then it dawned on him that he was supposed to say something . “Do you want to… see me again?” he offered, truly bringing his A-game as the (supposedly) most romantic man in the continent. (He was not boasting. It had simply been brought to his attention by many of his exes, and who was he to question the opinion of the people?) He tried not to sound too hopeful but it was too early in the morning and his acting skills needed a warm-up. After all, one couldn’t just naturally wake up that good.

The silence stretched in a way that made him uncomfortable, especially since Geralt was practically invisible in front of him. Geralt’s fingers brushed his and something in his chest relaxed, but only for a moment.

“I can’t,” Geralt started, making Jaskier’s heart drop, “make promises.”

And okay that wasn’t the worst he could have said but also - uh what ? “Okay? Well I- I’m not asking you to?”

“Hmm.”

“Geralt, I- I had a really nice time with you, you know? And I’d really like to have more… nice times with you. And not just sex, I mean, yes, sex was fantastic, it was , but also, well- what I mean is, I don’t expect you to like, abandon your life or whatever, I just-” he was running out of breath. “Gosh I’m talking too much again, fuck, please, say something? I’m getting zero feedback here and you have to know I’m gonna keep talking until you cut me off-”

“Sorry,” Geralt sighed, his fingers threading between Jaskier’s. “It’s just- This is… I haven’t been with someone in a while and,” he said with hesitation and left the sentence unfinished.

And never with a man , Jaskier thought, pretty sure of what was coming next. “Right,” he said, feeling his throat tighten. Not like he wasn’t used to falling for people who just didn’t have the same life plan- or day plan , even.

“But I think I would,” Geralt said, “like to see you again, I mean.”

“Wait, what?“ Jaskier’s brain derailed.

“I’d like to see you again?” Geralt repeated and it sounded even better the second time.

“Oh.”

"I… had a nice time, too.”

“Oh. Good,” Jaskier whispered, relief washing over him and unlocking the door to yearning. He moved forward, closer to Geralt, his hand sliding up to his shoulder, finding his cheek and feeling the beginning of a stubble under his fingers. “Good,” Jaskier murmured again. Feeling Geralt lean into him was the best reward. He moved his head closer and his nose rubbed softly against Geralt’s, the intimacy sweeter than some of the sex he’d had in the past.

Geralt inclined his head slightly and pressed a chaste, tender kiss against Jaskier’s lips.

Once they parted, phone numbers were exchanged and the soft wish of getting in touch soon was expressed - or, rather, as Jaskier put it as he walked Geralt to the door, “in touch and, well, in touch .” A freaking poet.

-

The morning after they “had a milkshake” - as Jaskier nicknamed their first close encounter - Geralt had gone home right before sunrise to find Eskel wide awake, sitting on the living room couch, a book on his lap. Eskel had looked at him, raised an eyebrow, and pressed his lips together to suppress a smile. “Coffee?” was all he had said and Geralt had been oh so grateful.

In the days that followed, he learned a bit more about Jaskier. He taught both poetry and musicology at university, gave private lessons, and performed with his band from time to time. Spring meant preparing finals, helping students to rehearse for auditions, and getting ready for the upcoming festivals The Bard would participate in. Between his schedule and Geralt’s, over a month had gone before they saw each other in the flesh again. But texting? Texting was definitely a Jaskier thing.

A couple of hours after Geralt had left, Jaskier had sent him a text saying “my bed misses you” . Geralt had promptly walked from one meeting to another, only realising at 6.30 pm during a phone call from Assengard, as he caught sight of the restaurant from across the street, that he had left Jaskier hanging. He tried to think of something clever on his way to pick Ciri up from her fencing class. To his surprise, his idea had worked very well on Jaskier.

Of course, as with most things concerning Jaskier, Geralt quickly discovered, it was prone to get out of hand. The man had decided that “the milkshake” would become “a thing”. The fact that Geralt’s favourite order at Denise’s included a vanilla milkshake with cream on top was apparently hilarious for reasons Geralt could not understand.

Since then, Geralt would receive texts from Jaskier every few days, ranging from “thinking of u” to “which one of these says ‘I am a 100%-responsible adult person who will turn your child into a virtuoso if you allow me to teach them?’” with a picture of two button-down shirts attached.

Geralt had left him on read , the bastard.

-

After the six most frustrating weeks of his life - yes, more frustrating than the whole summer he spent sharing a flat with a Spanish model who had very loud, very heterosexual sex on the other side of their paper-thin, shared bedroom wall - Jaskier finally got his hands back on his favourite lawyer’s ass.

They had agreed Geralt would meet him at his place that Friday after work. And so, Jaskier spent the afternoon trying to convince himself he could mark students’ essays, and was absolutely not in the hellish head-space where nervousness meets horniness. (He made it through five so he counted it as a win.)

He had changed outfits three times in two hours, and had promised Essi he absolutely was not falling for some seemingly perfect person who would then turn out to have a secret wife, three children and a dog (“Well since you’re asking, he has a very public ex-wife, one daughter, and a horse.” “A horse?” “Yup.” “What the hell?” “I have no fucking clue.”)

Jaskier was busy adjusting a sofa pillow to make it appear tidy-but-casual when the bell rang, making him jump out of his skin.

When he opened the door, Geralt looked like he was two seconds away from running back down the stairs and disappearing forever in some mysterious vineyard near Toussaint. Geralt, being the absolute asshole that he was, also looked like a fucking god amongst humans so Jaskier’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of him once again. He had almost forgotten how stunning the man was.

“Hi,” Geralt said.

Jaskier shook himself out of his dreamy smitten state and felt a tingle in his cheeks as he blushed. “Hey, come on in,” he said, waving the man inside.

Geralt had his hair tied in a casual bun and was wearing a black winter coat way above Jaskier’s pay grade. Gods, what a sight. Jaskier was fucked .

“Are you-”

“So how’s-”

They both started and stopped at the same time, which made Jaskier laugh and Geralt shake his head as he looked away, a side of his mouth rising into a smile. Boy, Jaskier thought, if Geralt was half as fond of him as he was of Geralt, they’d be married in three years, move to a farm in five, and adopt every stray dog in the area a year after that at the latest.

“Can I take your coat?” Jaskier offered.

As Geralt nodded, Jaskier got his hands on the lapels of Geralt’s coat, fingers absent-mindedly pressing against Geralt’s chest, feeling the soft wool, and the strong pecs underneath all the layers. A moment passed and he realised Geralt hadn’t moved an inch. He stopped staring at his own hand and, as he looked up, realised Geralt was looking at him. Or more like, looking at his mouth.

There was a beat and they both moved forward, catching each other’s lips.

“Fuck, is it ok to say I’ve missed you?” Jaskier breathed between two kisses.

“Hmm,” Geralt replied, pushing Jaskier against the door and leaving his lips to kiss and suck the skin of his neck.

“Ah, okay, I’ll take that as a yes,” he half-moaned and got Geralt’s mouth back against his, kissing like he just couldn’t get enough- because he couldn’t. Geralt got rid of his coat, letting it fall onto the floor.

“M-maybe we should take a second to hang it. It looks expensive.”

“It’s a gift from my ex,” Geralt mumbled against Jaskier’s skin, biting tentatively at his Adam’s apple.

“Or we could stomp all over it,” Jaskier deadpanned. Geralt laughed against his throat and Jaskier felt it resonate through his chest.

“So you’re the possessive kind, then?”

“Uh,” Jaskier bit his lip, “only if that turns you on.”

Geralt kissed a line up to Jaskier’s ear and caressed him through his trousers as he nibbled at his earlobe. In the softest, most quiet whisper, he murmured: “It does.”

Jaskier groaned with pleasure and Geralt kissed him in earnest, his hand still fondling the man’s inseam. He pressed his pelvis against Jaskier’s and both moaned from the supplementary friction.

“Let me try something?” Geralt asked against Jaskier’s lips before promptly getting down onto his knees.

“Oh, wow, okay,” Jaskier gasped as Geralt went straight for his belt. “Ah- w-wait, you- you sure?”

Geralt rolled his eyes, undoing the man’s button and zipper until Jaskier’s hands came to rest softly over his.

“No, I’m serious, you don’t have to.”

"I know,” Geralt answered, looking up at him. “I want to.”

“Okay. Okay. Just stop if it’s not good with you, right?”

“Right.”

He pulled Jaskier’s trousers down, not wasting any time. The curved line of his hardening cock was obvious under his underwear and Geralt slowed down, caressing the back of Jaskier’s thigh with one hand, the other moving up to his crotch. He palmed Jaskier through his boxer briefs (his navy blue boxer briefs) and was delighted to see him try to control his breathing through the surging wave of desire.

“Take them off for me?” Geralt asked, his voice rough with arousal.

Jaskier breathed out shakingly and slid his thumbs under the waistband, pulling his underwear down under Geralt’s relentless attention. Unable to stop himself, Jaskier took his own cock in hand and stroked himself, humming with pleasure with the first movement of his wrist. Geralt was sitting on his ankles, mesmerised.

“You like watching?” Jaskier asked, and even though the answer was pretty obvious, Geralt didn’t say it out loud. He raised to his knees, kissing the inside of Jaskier’s thighs, every breath softly tickling Jaskier’s skin, the hand maintaining its rhythm.

Moving upwards, Geralt’s tongue darted out to lick Jaskier’s balls, surprising him so much the back of his head hit the door, generating a moan which turned into a wince and then back into a moan again. Geralt’s smile shaped the kiss he pressed on Jaskier’s thigh as his fingers brushed through the man’s pubic hair, and slid up to find Jaskier’s hand, slowing it down.

Jaskier felt Geralt’s hot breath coming closer to his cock and had to bite his lower lip when the other man’s lips brushed against his fingers, kissing them one by one, silently asking him to let go. Jaskier didn’t need much convincing until, of course, fuck his goddamn unstoppable brain, a thought occurred to him.

“Wait!” he exclaimed and, at least, was blessed with the sight of Geralt looking up at him with surprise, his lips apart, tongue visible, and… Fuck, he looked so innocent and yet devilishly hot like this.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Just- safety, right? You can, uh, get STIs. From, you know, sucking off someone unprotected. So you should be safe, you know.”

“Uh,” Geralt frowned. “Do you have STIs I should worry about?”

“No, I’m clean. I just mean, you know, in general.”

“I don’t need sex ed, Jaskier.”

“I know,“ he said, unconvincingly. "I’m just saying. Cause, like, it matters, and, you… well, you know.”

“I know,” he nodded even though he didn’t really. “Anything else?” he asked, raising an eyebrow teasingly.

“Well, you shouldn’t take my word for it.”

“What?” Well, he only had himself to blame, right? He did ask.

“That I’m clean. I mean you can’t take people’s word for it, sometimes people just-”

“ Jaskier. I’ve slept with strangers before,” Geralt said bluntly, missing the brief pained look on Jaskier’s face at being classified as a stranger . “You’re clean. I’m clean. If you’re fine with this, I’m fine with this.”

“Yes. Yeah, I am. I am. Sorry,” Jaskier shook his head. “Did I just ruin it? It’s just, it matters you know, so I figured-”

“Jask. I get it. It’s fine,” Geralt said, rubbing his thumbs on each of Jaskier’s hip bones. “Can I suck your cock, now?” he asked softly. Jaskier’s worries disappeared from his mind instantly, and he nodded enthusiastically about twelve times above the consent limit.

Geralt took him into his hand and stroked him, slowly but firmly, further limiting his brain’s already diminished access to oxygen. Geralt’s other hand had reached out to fondle his ass and his fingers began to lightly drum along the back of Jaskier’s thigh, brushing softly, ghosting against his skin, and sending a brand new kind of sparks of want to Jaskier’s cock.

After a few strokes, Geralt brought his lips to the base of Jaskier’s shaft, kissing the hairs in a way one could have described as chaste if it hadn’t been happening so close to another man’s dick. He then proceeded to drop fuller kisses on the soft skin of Jaskier’s cock, pressing his lips against the skin almost reverently as his hand kept working Jaskier. When he was satisfied with the soft noises and the sound of fast breathing above him, he guided his hand back to the base of Jaskier’s cock, pumping a few times before guiding the tip of Jaskier’s dick to his mouth as he licked .

“Fffuck-” Jaskier gasped, and Geralt smiled.

Wetting his lips, he opened his mouth and wrapped it around the very tip of Jaskier’s cock, kissing it wetly, his tongue running against the underside. He let go, only to kiss the side of the head with an open mouth and then took Jaskier’s cock again.

As soon as he had run into Geralt at the bar, Jaskier had been both mindlessly infatuated and completely unsure what to expect. Geralt’s enthusiasm for learning to give head was definitely one of the things he didn’t see coming.

Geralt’s hand fondled his butt cheek again. As he pressed the tip of his fingers lightly against his sacrum, Jaskier sighed and angled his pelvis forward the way Geralt’s hand invited him to. Geralt took a slow breath through his nose, obviously trying to relax as much as he could as he moved forward, taking in a little more of Jaskier in his mouth and sliding his lips over the ring of Jaskier’s cock.

“Oh,” escaped from Jaskier’s lips as Geralt drew back slightly and took more of him again. “Oh darling, oh, yes, that’s good,” he stammered, caressing Geralt’s cheek before drawing back and slapping his hand against the door to ground himself and to restrain from grabbing the back of Geralt’s neck.

Geralt groaned softly at the loss, reaching out for Jaskier’s hand, closing his eyes as soon as he felt Jaskier’s touch again. He moaned as he kept sucking him slowly, clearly enjoying the guiding hand on his cheek.

“Oh, darling,” Jaskier moaned. His thumb rubbed softly against Geralt’s stubbly cheekbone before his hand slid against his cheek and jaw encouragingly. “Oh, that’s good, yeah that’s- Keep going, love,” he whispered again.

Biting his lower lip, Jaskier kept caressing Geralt’s cheek, whispering sweet nothings and sliding his fingers through the other man’s hair, convinced Geralt would have purred around his cock if he could.

"That’s really good, sweetheart,” and as Geralt enthusiastically took him a tad deeper, he just couldn’t help himself. “Oh, that’s my good boy ,” he moaned and Geralt all but choked on his dick.

Pulling back and resting a hand against the floor, half-slipping on his discarded coat, Geralt coughed and tried to get his breath back from choking on his own spit.

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry-” Jaskier kneeled by him hastily - and heavily . Having his jeans pooled around his knees wasn’t exactly helping him be graceful. “You alright?”

“Fine,” Geralt rasped, a bright shade of pink all over his face. He coughed again.

“Do you need a drink or something?”

Geralt laughed brokenly through a cough. “To help me forget I could have bitten your dick off?” he asked and Jaskier huffed.

“Don’t be silly,” he smiled, brushing away the hair across Geralt’s face as he leaned to kiss him. “This cock has seen worse.”

“That’s always comforting,” Geralt mumbled against his lips.

Jaskier laughed and caught his lips into another kiss, enjoying the way Geralt sighed comfortably, and held on to the back of his neck. His hand wandered to find the hem of Geralt’s shirt and slipped under his waistband before he arrived at a bright idea. “What if - and I know it’s going to be a very bold, and novel concept, but hear me out - what if we stopped using my front door and living room floor as acceptable fucking surfaces and straight out moved to the bed?”

“Hmm,” Geralt mused falsely. “Didn’t know there was anything straight about you,” he snarked and was met with a playful slap on the breast accompanied by Jaskier’s cackling laughter.

“Oh, look who’s talking now!”

They fumbled to get Jaskier back on his feet - “well I do love to spend time on my knees” - and got rid of the jeans which were annoyingly getting in their way, to then move on to the bedroom.

-

His bedroom, Jaskier decided, was absolutely ruined . Nothing would ever look better than Geralt sprawled on his bed, naked, his hard cock pressed against his lower belly. If Geralt ever decided to break things off with him - a thought which, despite people often calling him dramatic, he knew was perfectly realistic - Jaskier would have to change the room entirely. He would repaint the walls, get new furniture, burn the bed, maybe, or - to simplify - move places. No, there was no way a single soul could ever sleep on sheets which had touched Geralt’s skin without missing his presence like any respectable bard would miss their medieval lute.

At that moment, however, this bard was straddling Geralt’s lap, his arms around Geralt’s neck, while being held around his middle and kissed languorously. They were both naked, every inch of skin yearning to feel the other, and not a single thing was amiss.

“Would you like to touch yourself for me, darling?” Jaskier asked between two kisses, his voice low and syrupy.

A groan came from the bottom of Geralt’s throat and vibrated against Jaskier’s tongue.

“Fuck, I love the noises you make,” he whispered against Geralt’s lips, catching the man’s tongue in another open-mouth kiss.

Geralt started stroking his own cock and howled, and Jaskier broke the kiss unintentionally, unable to stop smiling at the sheer bestiality of the man.

Jaskier smacked his lips against Geralt’s a few more times as Geralt chased his mouth for more. Curving his hand around Geralt’s cheek, he kissed him one more time before slipping his thumb on his lips. He didn’t expect Geralt to kiss his finger, chastely, then lick its tip and lustfully take it in his mouth. Jaskier didn’t sigh as much as he whined .

“Would you prepare yourself for me?” Jaskier asked, making his intentions clearer, his voice a bit hesitant but hopeful.

Geralt let go of his thumb, letting Jaskier caress his lips lovingly. “Maybe it’s better if you do it,” he said, kissing the inside of Jaskier’s palm in an obvious attempt to hide his face.

“Is it?” Jaskier asked, and Geralt closed his eyes, something like regret written on his face.

“I’m not very good at it,” he grimaced.

“You’ve done it before?”

Geralt hummed, uncomfortable. “Since last time,” he clarified. “It didn’t really- I don’t know, maybe it’s not my thing,” he shrugged, still avoiding Jaskier’s eyes.

“Hey,” Jaskier whispered, his voice coated with kindness, unable to stop himself as he tipped Geralt’s chin up and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips. “You can’t become a virtuoso on the first try,” he said.

Geralt frowned but then hid his discomfort behind a playful look. “Are you saying my ass is a musical instrument-”

“Shush, you!” Jaskier giggled. “I’m trying to be serious, for once!” he chastised him.

Geralt snickered and hid his face back into Jaskier’s hand, softly kissing his wrist.

“Maybe you had one of the best orgasms of your life the first time you rubbed one out but we , regular human beings, had to work for it,” he paused for more dramatic flair. “L ong and hard and again and again …” he wiggled his eyebrows and Geralt snorted. “We learn what feels good and what doesn’t. Just because you’re ol-” Geralt gave him a pointed look “ -der doesn’t mean you don’t need to get to know yourself.”

“Nice save,” Geralt deadpanned.

“I know, right? Almost seamless,” Jaskier smiled back, clearly full of shit, and went in for a kiss.

“Hmm,” Geralt sighed. “I think I’d rather-” he hesitated, “get on with it, you know.”

“Get on with it?” It was Jaskier’s turn to raise an unconvinced eyebrow.

“Yeah, just get it done.”

“My, what a romantic you are,” Jaskier snickered and Geralt rolled his eyes, trying to make amends by rubbing Jaskier’s skin with his thumb where his hand rested on his hip.

“You just said it, first times suck. I just gotta- get through it and then, well. Hopefully, we get to the good stuff.”

“G- get through it ? You know this isn’t CrossFit, right?”

Geralt snorted. “You know what I mean,” Geralt said, then bit his lip as he frowned, pressing his forehead against Jaskier’s. “You know I’m not-,” he waved his hand, “good at this.”

“Words?”

He puffed. “Yeah, words.”

“Yeah, I got that. I hear you.” Jaskier smoothly brushed a strand of hair back behind Geralt’s ear. “There’s something else I heard. ‘First times suck’ ? Well challenge accepted, my dear,” he said and Geralt laughed as he kissed him again.

Geralt let himself be slowly pushed down to the bed as they kissed, his hands moving up Jaskier’s back, feeling the muscles along the way. His hand reached the back of Jaskier’s neck, covering it for a moment before he buried his fingers into the man’s hair as they softly ground against each other.

Jaskier slid his hand between them, giving both of their cocks a pull before moving lower. “Raise your legs for me, darling?” he asked in low tones, sliding his hands under Geralt’s knees. He could feel Geralt slightly tensing up as he set his feet to the mattress. It didn’t feel like it had anything to do with the scar Jaskier had brushed with his fingertips.

“Shouldn’t I be on my hands and knees?” he asked in a breath while Jaskier’s hands found their way back to his chest.

“You could,” he kissed a spot on his jaw, caressing Geralt’s pectoral. “You don’t have to.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier?” his voice was fairly tight and Jaskier faintly wondered if it was any clue to the state of his ass- and then kept the thought very much to his stupid dick-jokes self.

“Nah, not necessarily,” he whispered, trying to make his hands into a calming, solid presence against Geralt’s skin, caressing his breasts, his ribs, his clavicles, lining his scars with the care they deserved. Whichever God carved this man’s body, Jaskier swore to worship them until the end of his days.

“It can be straining to hold that position. Also…” Jaskier raised himself to face Geralt, picking up the man’s hand as it slipped over his shoulder and kissed the root of each finger. “We don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable with it,” he said. “We don’t have to do it today.” He weaved his fingers between Geralt’s and kissed their tips. “And we don’t have to do it ever.”

Geralt’s face became closed off as he took a slow breath in, bolting up the gates before Jaskier had a chance to read him. He raised to meet Jaskier, his hand finding the perfect place at the back of his neck, and kissed him earnestly.

“I want you to fuck me,” he said against his lips.

“Yeah?” Jaskier gasped. “Got you, loud and clear,” Jaskier whispered and leaned into another kiss.

He broke away from Geralt to reach his nightstand drawer, pulling out some lube and condoms. He grabbed a pillow, invited Geralt to raise his hips and slid it underneath.

“Now, where was I?” he said under his breath, settling between Geralt’s legs and rubbing their bodies against each other. Geralt moaned and wrapped a leg around Jaskier’s pelvis, grinding back eagerly.

Holding his thigh with one hand, Jaskier began kissing his neck, licking and biting the skin at his throat, intending to take care of every inch of Geralt’s body. He licked one of Geralt’s nipples, extracting a moan from Geralt when he sucked and scraped his teeth against the strong muscle of his tit. Feeling Geralt slowly relax under his hands, he headed lower, kissing the pale hairy line that led from his navel to his cock.

He squeezed Geralt’s cock gently, carefully caressing the tip with his thumb and watching the precome spread, shiny against the soft skin. He looked up at Geralt as he moved his hand steadily up and down, a spark of ecstasy jumping from his heart to his cock at the sight of Geralt, eyes closed, biting his lower lip. Every moment assured Jaskier that pleasuring this man was actually his entire life’s purpose.

Geralt hummed with pleasure as Jaskier wrapped his lips around his cock, already struggling not to buck his hips when Jaskier took more of him in his mouth.

Jaskier couldn’t help but hum around his dick as he took it in, playing with depth and rhythm like a true maestro, his fingers threading through the light grey curls of Geralt’s pubes. He then let go of Geralt’s cock with an obscene pop that made him laugh and licked up from the spot right above Geralt’s balls.

Geralt’s hips stirred in both pleasure and surprise.

Jaskier got his hands back on the lube as he kissed and licked the man’s balls, encouraged by the whines and groans that escaped Geralt’s throat. He warmed his lubed fingers against each other and caressed Geralt’s ass with what he wouldn’t deny was absolute adoration. “Can I touch you, darling?” he asked, his voice a bit rough.

Geralt breathed a “yeah” and sounded almost like he was begging but Jaskier gracefully didn’t comment on it. (He, however, definitely took note.) Instead, he slid a hand between Geralt’s cheeks and brushed a finger against his hole as his mouth drove back down Geralt’s beautifully thick cock.

Jaskier teased a little, trying out different pressures against the man’s hole before the song of Geralt’s moans left no room for doubt. He slid his forefinger in while his other hand caressed Geralt’s inner thigh and finally felt the heat of Geralt’s body wrapped around his finger. He pulled back slightly and pushed again, this time steadily driving his finger deeper, synching his hand with the movements of his neck.

Despite Geralt’s frequent struggles with words, his gasps and moans were graced with great clarity and proved sufficient to let Jaskier know he was right to keep going. As far as non-verbal cues go, he also quickly found delight in feeling the walls of Geralt’s ass tightening around him and the taste of more precome coating his tongue.

“ Ah , your mouth,” Geralt moaned, reaching out and grasping onto Jaskier’s hair.

Jaskier closed his eyes and moaned, aching for better friction than the bit of sheet he could rub his cock against. Grabbing the lube with one hand, he couldn’t help but jerk himself a couple of times as Geralt’s hand kept pulling his hair with each bop of his head.

Pointedly slowing down and looking up, he waited for Geralt’s attention to focus on him. He made a point of keeping their eyes locked as he shamelessly pulled up and let go of his cock. “D’you want another finger, honey?” he asked, perfectly aware of how depraved he had to look with his hair astray and his lips as probably as crimson as the tip of Geralt’s cock.

Geralt pulled him closer and met him with a crushing kiss as he nodded and moaned against Jaskier’s brow. “Hm- wait,” he breathed, holding Jaskier back as he started to let go, “I haven’t touched you at all,” he complained, his hands cupping Jaskier’s ass in a kind but firm grasp.

“Ah- It’s alright, love,” Jaskier said. “We’ve got time for that,” he smiled against Geralt’s lips but before he could leave again, Geralt grabbed his hand.

“I want you to feel as good as I do,” he breathed.

“Oh, trust me, darling, I’m feeling fantastic,” Jaskier grinned. They kissed one more time before Geralt let go of him and Jaskier drove his attention back to his lover’s lower body.

Geralt sighed as he settled his head back against his pillow, muttering something about how Jaskier was going to kill him.

Jaskier brought one hand at the base of Geralt’s cock, put his mouth back to work and fingered him a little while longer before adding another slick finger. Geralt whined and Jaskier reached out for his hand, threading their fingers together, hoping Geralt would know it was his way of checking in before Geralt sighed “ Yeah, s’good ,” in a tone that sounded pretty far gone.

He fucked Geralt with his fingers a few tentative times and curled them softly on the way out. In case he had any doubt his fingers were brushing against the right spot, Geralt’s hips jerked, driving his cock further down Jaskier’s throat.

“Ah, fuck ,” Geralt moaned. “Fuck, sorry,” slipped from his lips as if he was holding back so many more words.

Jaskier squeezed his hand in reassurance and kept sucking on Geralt’s dick until he could feel him tremble. He rubbed against Geralt’s prostate, drinking in every noise leaving the man’s lips, every movement revealing his pleasure.

“Ah, Jask,” Geralt moaned again, clutching to Jaskier’s hand like nothing would ever be able to make him let go. “Jas- Jaskier, ah , Jask, wait, I’m gonna-”

His hips buckled and his back raised from the mattress as he came, mouth open, gasping. He moaned and groaned as Jaskier kept fucking him onto his fingers until he was done spilling.

Jaskier slid his fingers out of Geralt’s ass, unable not to pull on his own cock even as he wiped off his mouth and tried to catch his breath, resting his forehead against the soft flesh of Geralt’s hip.

“Fuck,” Geralt whispered as he stretched, the last tingles of pleasure leaving his body. He brought his hands to his face, covering his blush and groaned “ fuck ” in a wholly different tone.

“Hey,” Jaskier gasped, slowing down the movements of his wrist and bringing his other hand to touch Geralt’s arm. “Hey, you alright?”

“Hmm,” he groaned from under his hands.

“What’s wrong, darling?” he asked and Geralt huffed.

“I just came like a teenager, darling ,” Geralt mumbled, the edge of his sarcasm largely smoothed out by post-coital bliss.

Jaskier chuckled. “No, you didn’t. You held up really well,” he said, caressing Geralt’s forearm. “My charms were simply too mighty for you to keep it in any longer,” he whispered, and kissed his other wrist and hand, hoping Geralt would emerge from his hiding place.

Geralt groaned again, unconvinced, but let his hand slip away when Jaskier kissed his knuckles, allowing the other man to paint his cheek with the sweet brush of his lips.

“I wanted you,” Geralt whispered, in a weak, almost plaintive way.

“I’m still right here, love,” Jaskier whispered back. “You still have me,” he said at the corner of Geralt’s lips, pressing his mouth softly against his. He found Geralt pressing back with the same tenderness then savouring the taste his own come on Jaskier’s tongue.

They stayed like this for a moment, simply enjoying the warmth of each other’s arms, slowly kissing and holding each other.

“Do you need me?” Geralt asked after Jaskier buckled against his hips involuntarily.

“If your schedule allows it,” Jaskier joked, hiding his face in his neck and humming as he rubbed himself against Geralt.

“What do you want?” Geralt asked, caressing the length of Jaskier’s back, pressing his fingers along the muscles, waking up every fibre of Jaskier’s body.

“This,” Jaskier murmured, “This is perfect.”

He rubbed himself slowly against Geralt as the man covered him in caresses, the callousness of Geralt’s hands contrasting with the softness of his gestures. He ground against Geralt’s hip lazily, welcoming the pressure of Geralt’s hands on his ass, feeling the imprint of each finger into his flesh. His cock was still smeared with lube and the mess he’d spit onto Geralt’s pelvis made for a dirty, wonderful help.

“You look so good like this,” Geralt whispered, kissing a spot under his ear. “You feel so good against me,” he said softly, his tenderness almost making Jaskier come on the spot.

“ Ah , please, touch me,” he begged and Geralt reached for his cock like a servant knight, enthusiastically escorting him to rapture as Jaskier fucked into his hand again and again and again , his shout resonating through the bedroom as he came.

Geralt held him as Jaskier made his way back down, their bodies sweaty and well spent, comfortably intertwined.

After a while during which Jaskier’s mind drifted and fluttered between sleep and consciousness, he adjusted his body to kiss the side of Geralt’s jaw.

“Care to be introduced to my shower?” he asked sleepily.

“Hmm. Good call,” Geralt nodded, and pressed a kiss against his temple.

-

When Geralt walked out of the shower, freshly cleaned up and smelling like Jaskier’s lemon soap, his clothes were neatly arranged on the bed. He got dressed and followed the sound of Jaskier’s humming, finding him in the kitchen frowning at some delivery menus. He was biting his lip, seeming pretty conflicted and Geralt surprised himself thinking: shit, he’s cute.

He kept expecting to have a change of heart any minute now. It was, after all, bound to happen, the next logical step, the most probable outcome: one morning he would wake up and realise that surely this had all been fun but he wasn’t into it anymore. He just had gotten a bit confused and wasn’t actually feeling so much for this man- or any other man, or any other person for that matter.

After splitting up with Yen, he thought he’d never grow fond of someone enough to want anything (at least anything more than sex, but even sex was quite low on his list of priorities). With Jaskier, though- it was like every other day, Geralt would find another thing he’d like to share with the handsome man who had run into him and insisted on sticking around.

“Hey,” Jaskier said, noticing him in the doorway. “So I was thinking, either Casa Lauretta or Athumani’s Kitchen , what do you think? And before you say anything- I know , take out again, but I can’t both try to seduce you and subject you to my cooking.”

Geralt snorted. “You’ve had me in your bed already. Twice. ” he said, raising a playful eyebrow. “At what point will you consider me successfully seduced?”

“Uh, I don’t know, some time between the third dog and the second honeymoon, I guess?” Jaskier pretended to ponder.

Geralt blinked at him and his smile froze on his face. He often struggled with words to begin with but Jaskier mastered the art of leaving him speechless. Banter was his realm. Jaskier knew the terrain by heart and he revelled in it. He was light on his feet and quick on his toes. Every time Geralt tried to play his game and stepped towards Jaskier, the distance separating them seemed to grow.

He felt like a novice trying to catch up with a man who had hiked the trail his whole life, knew its twists and turns by heart. No matter how much he tried to relax and enjoy the sights by Jaskier’s side, he still felt the man would always be ahead of him. Like he would never be able to catch up and stay stuck in the land of the new and uncomfortable.

He cleared his throat. “What’s in these cupboards of yours?“ he asked, brushing past Jaskier to open a few of them. At first, the answer seemed to be both everything and not much at all . But after initial confusion, he realised Jaskier might actually have a system.

Items weren’t sorted by kind but rather by what goes well together: canned mushrooms next to rice, coconut milk next to curry powder, sliced bread between jam and mustard. He wasn’t sure why "365 Lesser-known Eastern Medieval Poems” was stacked with cereals, or why Jaskier’s watch was in a bowl, but he could find out with time.

Something tickled the back of his neck and he realised Jaskier was playing with his hair, a bit of a smitten look on his face. As Geralt looked at him, Jaskier froze and blushed.

“Sorry,” he said, retreating his hand. “I love your hair,” he said sheepishly.

“I lost my hairband somewhere,” Geralt said, looking around.

“It looks good like this too,” Jaskier said. “Pretty sure it looks good all the time,” he smiled and brushed an escapee strand of hair back behind Geralt’s ear.

And here it was: another immensely confusing thing about Jaskier. The man radiated self-confidence 99% of the time. He could bathe in the attention of a crowd, flirt shamelessly with a complete stranger and whisper the filthiest words, dirtiest things- he could fantasize out loud about getting married to a man he’d only known for a few weeks. Yet there was also a shyness about the smallest of things, a vulnerability . It made Geralt want to pick him up and take him to safety- and he was perfectly aware of how ridiculous that sounded. But it felt like maybe, Jaskier’s hidden, more reserved side was a path where they could meet halfway.

He leaned towards him and kissed the corner of Jaskier’s mouth. “Thank you,” he said.

Jaskier smiled and his whole face illuminated. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Good,” Geralt nodded, taking his attention back to the cupboard. And so here he was again, taking a step back on what had started to feel like a comfortable route and stiffly navigating in between the metaphorical potholes on the road leading to Jaskier. As it turned out, talking about how his ass felt after getting fingered was not Geralt’s forte either. But Jaskier - in a moment of extreme humility - had described himself as a master of words and rhythm and that’s exactly what he was. He could use any word, touch upon any topic, express any emotion. Jaskier had a whole planisphere at his disposal, a means to take any road; Geralt had shitty directions and a compass that only told North once in a blue moon.

“No pain?”

“No,” he answered, closed the cupboard and exited Jaskier’s personal space to grab the menus. “Maybe delivery’s better, you’re right,” he said.

“Hmm,” Jaskier answered. “You do that a lot,” he pointed out.

Geralt gave him a look above his shoulder. “What?”

“Changing topics. Avoiding conversations,” Jaskier explained lightly. His tone was not judgemental. He was merely making an observation.

And so, “I’m not,” Geralt lied. He only realised he had lied the second he heard himself. Fuck . “I didn’t realise there was more to say.” Less of a lie. Not quite a half-truth.

Jaskier sighed softly and settled next to Geralt, pressing his forearms against the kitchen counter. "Margherita, then?” he asked. Geralt could see the tight shape of his lips and the square angle of his shoulders. Jaskier had obviously seen right through him but was dropping the subject for his sake.

“You’re disappointed,” he said and Jaskier’s head shot back up to look at him.

“With the pizza options?” Jaskier joked weakly.

“With,” he hesitated. “Me.”

“No-” Jaskier argued right away, raising his hand to cut him off. But Geralt knew how it was, what people expected, not unfairly, versus how little he could offer.

“It’s fine,” Geralt said. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I-,” he paused to weigh his words carefully, eyes focused on the menus. "I’m not very good at-” he hesitated then snorted under Jaskier’s confused look. “ Opening up ?” he said, raising an eyebrow in Jaskier’s direction.

Jaskier laughed and reached out to rest his hand over Geralt’s. “Well, we’ve talked about this,” he said, with a shine in his eyes. “Practice makes better.” Geralt hummed, looking at Jaskier’s hand over his. To his surprise, Jaskier retracted his hand somewhat suddenly and he missed the weight of it right away. “And it’s not like we know each other that well, as you said,” he shrugged, at the edge of Geralt’s field of vision.

“I am ok,” he said, answering Jaskier’s previous question more honestly. “Bit weird but ok.” His brain then caught up with Jaskier’s words a moment too late; as you said ?

"Okay,” Jaskier said, offering a shy smile. “I- it’s okay if it doesn’t come naturally to you. I just- well, I’d just like you to be more comfortable with me. But we’ll get there, right?”

Geralt swallowed, closing and opening the hand that was resting on the counter to get rid of a slight tremor. Saying yes would have been another lie. He couldn’t make that promise. He had tried before, thought that maybe if he forced himself to be enough then things would work out eventually- but they hadn’t.

And so it would have been easy to say no , to back off entirely. He could tell Jaskier he wasn’t interested in building something, just wanted an easy fuck, to experiment a bit, and had simply gotten lucky enough to find a guy who wasn’t repelled by his shitty personality and off-putting scars. It would have been so easy- to tell Jaskier, “I don’t know what you thought you were getting out of this, but you won’t get me .” It was complete and absolute bullshit, a sad pack of lies, but it would be so much easier. He could get back to his life, his job, his kid and the handful of friends he still had, and never think about blue eyes or milkshakes again.

If only the thought didn’t make him nauseous.

Fuck, he wanted this.

“This isn’t casual for you, is it?” he asked, voice tight, and Jaskier startled, almost taking a step back. His face made an odd succession of expressions and he opened his mouth a couple of times before closing it again.

“I- I can be casual. I can be very casual. That’s not a problem, that’s not a- but I-,” he sighed and brushed his hand through his hair nervously. “Fuck, you really don’t fuck around, do you?” Geralt tried to come up with something to say but Jaskier shook his head, his voice way calmer now even if a bit wavering. “No. No, I don’t think I want to be casual with you. And- And you- you don’t w-”

“Me neither,” Geralt cut in before panic took over Jaskier.

The man’s eyes grew a little wider. “You neither?” he asked, and fuck if that wasn’t the most obvious display of naked hope Geralt had ever seen on anybody’s face.

Geralt shook his head and Jaskier seemingly had to fight a full-body shiver.

Jaskier walked the two steps separating them and kissed Geralt with his entire soul. When he pulled back, Geralt leaned into him again for another taste of his tongue. He brought a hand to Jaskier’s cheek and kissed him with feeling. When they parted, he kept his eyes closed, pressing his forehead to Jaskier’s, the tip of his fingers grazing the short hair behind his ear.

“I’m not used to wanting…” Geralt said. “Sex is good. But usually I don’t- I don’t want more. With you, I- I don’t want to ru- to leave . And it’s…”

“Weird, isn’t it?” Jaskier offered, his voice tight but tone playful. The shy smile on his lips was a delicious cherry on top, making the teasing even softer. (Little did Jaskier know that a cherry was the only thing in Geralt’s opinion that could ever improve a creamy vanilla milkshake.)

“Yeah, it’s weird,” Geralt huffed. Jaskier kissed him, and after working through so many words, Geralt ran out of things to say. “So, yeah. Margherita’s good,” he whispered, and it was his turn to make Jaskier laugh. The man cleared his throat and sighed like a weight had been taken off his chest.

“I can’t believe you said all that before even knowing Lauretta delivers vanilla milkshakes,” he said and Geralt poked him in the ribs until they half-wrestled, laughing, Jaskier’s back hitting the fridge- and they were kissing again.

-

They talked over dinner for a while. Jaskier came up with questions for Geralt to answer, helping him ease into a casual conversation. They teased and flirted and laughed, and soon ended up in bed again, tasting each other’s skin and leaning into each other’s curves.

“Full disclosure?” Jaskier whispered against Geralt’s mouth as he was straddling him. “I really fucking love those tits of yours,” he said, cupping Geralt’s chest with his two hands. Geralt scoffed in between two kisses.

“They’re called pecs,” he said, enjoying the way Jaskier’s hands were basically venerating his chest.

“Nuh-uh,” Jaskier replied, “I, good sir, am an artist, not an anatomist, and these are definitely some of the most magnificent boobies I have ever had the chance to see, touch and lick,” he said, brushing a nipple with his thumb while kissing Geralt’s jaw.

Geralt snorted and kept caressing Jaskier’s incredibly precious ass.

Jaskier sighed with contentment. “So, tell me your secret,” he mumbled against Geralt’s skin, finding a tendon in Geralt’s neck and following it with his lips, tongue and teeth. “How does a corporate lawyer get as buff as you?”

Geralt’s laugh was more of a scoff as he felt the more-or-less accidental brush of Jaskier’s cock against his.

“You’re one to talk,” he groaned, getting his hand into Jaskier’s hair and pulling him into a kiss. “Have you seen yourself, Professor?”

Jaskier suddenly pulled back, eyes wide and cheeks pink. “I- well- I mean I’m nothing close to- Your body is,” he huffed, seemingly at loss for words which was a very odd thing coming from Jaskier.

“Jaskier,” Geralt said, bringing his hand to the small of the man’s back, and squinted. “You know you’re hot, right?” he asked seriously and witnessed Jaskier dissolve into a fit of giggles, ducking his head and blushing even harder.

“I’m- nah, I’m not-”

“ Jaskier ,” Geralt repeated with intent.

“I mean, I’m fine but I’m not- you’re like a, a- an underwear supermodel.”

Geralt snorted. “Right, they do love bodies covered with scar tissue in underwear magazines,” he said self-deprecatingly, making Jaskier frown.

“Don’t do that. You’re beautiful,” he chastised.

“If you say so-” Geralt shrugged.

“I do say so. Les Dessous de Beauclair can go fuck itself,” Jaskier replied and Geralt snorted again.

“Point still stands,” Geralt said. “You’re hot.”

Jaskier looked away again, biting his lower lip. “Wh-,” he started and then closed his mouth right away.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head.

“Jaskier? I’m the one who isn’t much of a talker. There can’t be two of us,” he said, and Jaskier laughed, then hid his face in the crook of Geralt’s neck, wrapping his arms around Geralt’s shoulders.

“What do you like about me?” he asked, his voice so small Geralt barely heard him. He let a moment pass, wondering where to start and how. He slid a hand at the back of Jaskier’s neck, caressing the short strands of hair.

“This,” he said. “Your hair right here. It’s short but long enough that I can grab it,” he felt Jaskier smile against his neck.

” Kinky ,“ Jaskier whispered.

“And I like your eyes,” Geralt said, too focused on picking the right words to get sidetracked. “At the bar, I-” he hesitated, pacing himself. “I noticed your eyes first,” he said and swallowed.

Jaskier hugged him tighter. “I love your eyes too,” he mumbled into Geralt’s hair. "They’re incredible.”

Geralt managed to duck his head and press a soft kiss below Jaskier’s ear. “Your cheekbones,” he said, his mouth finding the sweet spot at the base of Jaskier’s neck. “Your shoulders,” he whispered, kissing Jaskier’s clavicle, loosening their embrace to keep going lower. “Your collarbones,” he nipped his teeth at the bone above Jaskier’s chest, “they’re really, really hot,” he said and Jaskier giggled, still hiding his face by pressing his forehead against Geralt’s temple.

Geralt brought his hands up Jaskier’s back and felt him shiver, Jaskier’s hips startling gently against his, bringing a soft moan from the both of them. “Your back,” he said, “I really love your back- and your ass, gods ,” he linked his hands behind Jaskier’s neck and rolled his hips, their moans echoing through the room. “ Ah , and those fucking arms of yours,” Geralt whispered. “Have you seen those arms?” he repeated, still softly rubbing their cocks together with slow movements of his hips and caressing Jaskier’s arm. “I’m sure you could lift me up with those arms,” he said and Jaskier groaned. “Would you like that?” he asked. “Would you- would you like to hold me up and fuck me?”

“Oh, fuck,” Jaskier moaned, his face pressed against Geralt’s cheek. “Fuck, fuck, yes, yes please, yes,” he begged, and Geralt grabbed the hair at the back of his neck and pulled just enough for Jaskier to whine with pleasure as they both rushed in an almost bruising kiss.

Jaskier had a hard time pulling away from Geralt, but finally managed to turn towards the bedside table to retrieve lube and condoms.

Geralt flushed himself against his back, tearing a moan from Jaskier as his hand directly went for Jaskier’s cock and Geralt’s dick rubbed against his ass.

“Oh fuck, yeah- yeah , we gotta do this some time too, darling,” he panted and Geralt groaned, grinding against him.

“You would like that?” he breathed, his voice low and coated with desire.

“Gods, I’d fuck you anyway you want, darling-” he moaned, “-but fffuck , if you keep going, there isn’t going to be much left of me.”

Geralt chuckled against him. He pulled back, freeing Jaskier from his embrace and sitting back against the wall.

Jaskier kneeled in between his legs and tore the package open, sliding the condom on his cock, realising after raising his eyes that he was under Geralt’s scrutiny.

“You okay?” he asked at the exact moment Geralt breathed “Come here.”

Somehow they crashed into each other, and yet fit each other’s shapes perfectly.

Geralt raised on his knees, thighs parted, Jaskier’s hands moving from his cock to his balls, making his hips jerk and his teeth close on Jaskier’s lower lip as he moaned. Jaskier slid his fingers further, caressing the sweet spot of Geralt’s perineum, making Geralt break the kiss as he gasped.

“Fuck, please, Jask-”

“I’ve got you,” Jaskier murmured, kissing him again and coating his fingers with lube.

Geralt tried his hardest not to jerk himself off here and now, attempting to focus on rubbing Jaskier’s cock while his other arm rested around the man’s neck.

Jaskier teased the rim of his asshole and got a quick return on his investment as Geralt pulled a little harder on his dick, tearing a moan from his lips. He chuckled a bit breathlessly and slid a finger inside Geralt easily. It didn’t take long at all before a second finger joined the first.

“You okay, darling?” Jaskier breathed and Geralt nodded against his cheek.

For a while, they stayed like this, settled against each other, Jaskier slowly fingering him until Geralt couldn’t stop clenching around his fingers and asking for more.

When three fingers curved into him and caressed his prostate, Geralt thought he was going to come undone. “Fuck- fuck, fuck, fuck, Jaskier-,”

“Good?” Jaskier asked a bit worriedly.

“Fuck, yes , good,” Geralt bit in a tone that was halfway between “how the fuck could it be anything but good” and “don’t you fucking dare stop” , making Jaskier laugh again.

“Okay, darling- still love the enthusiasm,” Jaskier said while Geralt whined and begged until finally, fucking finally, Jaskier agreed he was ready. Jaskier slid between his thighs, his strong, well-built arms around Geralt’s middle and Geralt realised it was probably the first time he had been held like this in his entire life.

“Touch yourself for me?” Jaskier asked, his mouth against Geralt’s before Geralt shook his head.

“Can’t- gonna come if I do,” he breathed and Jaskier kissed him again.

“Please?” he asked. “I want to make sure it feels good,” he whispered, holding onto Geralt’s middle tighter.

Geralt complied and before long Jaskier’s hips were rising to meet his body. He felt the tip of Jaskier’s cock slide between his buttcheeks and touch the soft of his ass and he startled, pulling away and pressing back against Jaskier just as fast.

“Fuck,” he swore as Jaskier whined. “Please, Jask,” he moaned as the hand on his cock started shaking. He then felt the tip of Jaskier’s cock against him again, and the steady push of Jaskier’s hips as the head of Jaskier’s cock entered him. He whined as Jaskier pushed further and lowered himself as slow as he could with the lone strength of his thighs and Jaskier’s arms wrapped around his waist.

“Ok?” Jaskier asked breathlessly. A gasp was all Geralt managed. His thoughts were an endless thread of fuck fuck fuck he couldn’t sort out in any order. “Yea- ah,” he broke, “ fuck ,”

“Is it too much?” Jaskier asked, “I can- I can stop, do you need me to stop?”

“ Don’t ,” Geralt moaned, clenching every single muscle in his body to keep Jaskier against him and eliciting a cry from Jaskier. His arms were around Jaskier’s shoulders, his forehead against the man’s temple. Geralt was holding onto him with everything he got.

“I just-” he tried to take a slow long breath thinking about everything he had learned through meditation and managed one ragged breath. “You’re a lot,” he managed in a sigh, clenching around Jaskier despite how much he tried to relax.

Jaskier’s breath caught in his throat half-way between pleasure and laughter. “I get that all the time,” he said cheekily.

“Don’t- don’t make me laugh,” he said, chuckling breathlessly, and Jaskier joined him, both trying to breathe through the involuntary clenching of Geralt’s inner muscles and the accidental movements of Jaskier’s hips.

They laughed into each other’s mouths as they kissed, mouth open, tongues licking each other’s lips, teeth biting softly, teasingly. When they were both ready, Jaskier pulled himself down as he helped Geralt raise on his knees and they met again, moaning and groaning.

“You ok?” Jaskier whispered again and by then, Geralt had no fucking idea. He had never felt so tense and relaxed at once, uncomfortable but so fucking fantastic. His nerves and his ass were on absolute fire but it was good, it was good, it was so, so-

“So good,” he growled, aware that every part of his body was probably shaking in Jaskier’s arms. “ Ah , don’t stop,” he moaned, and Jaskier, incredible, astonishing, wonderful Jaskier did not stop .

Their hips moved in sync, feeding Geralt with the kind of friction he had never imagined could feel so good.

He let himself relax entirely into Jaskier’s embrace, sliding against the whole length of Jaskier’s body, pressing torso against torso, his forehead against Jaskier’s sweaty fringe, their noises brushing, their mouths breathing the same air.

“Ye-ah?�� Jaskier moaned. “You like it? You really- ah , fuck- you- ah , you feel so good, does it feel good, tell me-” he rambled, far, so far from actually needing the reassurance.

Geralt groaned. “ Yes ,” he whined, “I like it, I like it, I like you , please,” and Jaskier whined and then did something- Geralt didn’t know, something, somehow, maybe went harder or faster or different, but he pulled and pushed and Geralt lost his fucking mind. He did it again and again, kissing Geralt, licking his neck, biting on his earlobe, caressing his nipples, bruising his hips in his grasp, pulling on his cock, whispering into his ear and making him whine and moan and shout until Geralt begged to be undone.

“I’ve got you, love,” Jaskier said, “I’ve got you.” Jaskier pulled harder on his hips in a half-broken groan, making Geralt slip towards him a little more.

Geralt arched his back, moaning in delight from the new angle. His neck was left exposed for Jaskier to kiss and lick, and breathe against Geralt’s skin. Every cell in Geralt’s body was burning and electric, and boiling. Everything felt so good and so much and so Jaskier , so he begged, begged again, and again for Jaskier to hold him and kiss him and fill him as he came, and so he did. He came, held, and kissed, and filled, and perfect, and Jaskier came, too, gasping into his mouth as they fell into each other.

For a moment, there was no other sound apart from the unsteady breathing and an occasional moan from the two of them as they slowly, comfortably, came back down to earth. Jaskier moved first, turning his head to kiss Geralt’s cheek, pushing his long white hair away from his face, and Geralt turned his head lazily towards him, leaning into a kiss.

“You ok?” Jaskier whispered, probably for the hundredth time and Geralt, for the thousandth time, hummed and nodded. Soon they would detach from each other, groaning from the discomfort of their sensible muscles, their come-dirtied bellies and lube-stained sheets anything but glamorous.

But for the time being, they laid their heads against each other’s shoulders, eyes closed, content with the feeling of holding and being held.

“Hey,” Jaskier whispered.

Geralt hummed questioningly.

“Stay for breakfast?” Jaskier asked. He missed the soft smile that drew on Geralt’s lips.

“Hmm.”

[dexiao]

Reminiscence (m) | Lee Taeyong and Kim Doyoung

Synopsis: Doyoung and Y/N have been dating for some time and just moved in together on the day they ocasionaly met Taeyong, Doyoung’s old fuck buddy at a café. Doyoung just didn’t expect to still have feelings for him.

Pairing: Kim Doyoung x female reader x Lee Taeyong

Words: ~3.3k

Genre: non idol!au,  a little bit of angst, fluff, smut

Warnings: polyamorous relationship, dom!Doyoung, sub!Taeyong, handjob (male receiving), oral sex (male receiving)

This is a work of fiction. It does not portray the real personality of any of the members.

The day Y/N accidentally first met Taeyong, she and Doyoung had been dating for almost a year.

She and Doyoung had just moved in together into a new apartment, close to Doyoung’s office, and were still getting to know the neighborhood – at least the parts you don’t get to see when you visit a district with work purposes only.

The couple entered a café, not so small, with something between half a dozen and ten tables, not to mention the seemingly enormous variety of sweets of all different colors that were displayed in the glass counters. They chose a more reserved table, close to a wall, and sat facing each other and holding hands on top of the wooden piece of furniture.

After deciding to order a mocha, Y/N lifted her gaze up to meet her boyfriend’s face, noticing his attention focused on a point behind herself. His eyes and mouth were open, eyebrows lifted in what Y/N interpreted as a surprise expression.

Since there were only a couple of tables taken besides yours, it was easy to discover what Doyoung stared at – a pale man with bright red hair, a slit in his left eyebrow and ears full of piercings, heading towards the counter with a soft expression after shyly smiling at an employee. His outfit was all black.

“Lee Taeyong?” Doyoung spoke loudly, standing up from his chair. At his call, the man turned his face towards their table, ears and face going immediately as red as his hair.

“Kim Dongyoung?” the man asked. His voice wasn’t as rasp as Y/N imagined based on his appearance. He approached the table as Doyoung reached out for a handshake. He shyly bowed at Y/N as Doyoung introduced the woman.

“This is Y/N, she’s my girlfriend Y/N, this is Taeyong, an… old friend of mine.”

“It’s nice to meet you” I said with an open smile. His expression made his discomfort evident.

“Nice to meet you too. You two are a beautiful couple.”

From his posture, it seemed to Y/N that things couldn’t become weirder, but then Doyoung sat down again and invited Taeyong to stay and have a coffee with them. He promptly refused to, due to a supposed appointment he had within a few minutes.

“Oh, so do you work nearby?” Doyoung asked.

“Yes, my studio is just a block away. Why do you ask?”

“Y/N and I just moved to an apartment a few blocks from here. Maybe we’ll see you around.”

“Sure” Taeyong responded, holding a closed smile. “But I really do have to go now, I’m sorry. It was a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

That night, Doyoung told Y/N about his past with Taeyong.

Of course she knew about his bisexuality even before they started dating, but they never really talked about past relationships. At least not mentioning names.

Just as Y/N experienced while dating Doyoung, he was more on the dominant side with Taeyong as well. Both the boys went to the same college and lived in the same floor of a building, eventually meeting in the hallway and the elevator. Their relationship, however, wasn’t serious.

They were obviously attracted to each other, to the point Taeyong broke up with his girlfriend straight because of the guilt he felt from having a crush on Doyoung, his neighbor.

As weeks passed by, they got into a friends with benefits-like situation. Casual one night stands, in an agreement to not nurture feelings towards each other.

And it worked pretty well.

Taeyong was really submissive to Doyoung, leading him to explore dominance and to experience having an amount of control over someone else he didn’t think of having before. Both of them discovered a lot about themselves during this time.

As the semester ended, Taeyong graduated and moved out to the UK for specialization, and Doyoung stayed in South Korea. They lost touch. It was natural, as each of them continued busy with their own stuff, not wanting to disturb the other in his pursue of success.

Three years later, here they were. Taeyong apparently still hadn’t gotten over what Doyoung used to call ‘a phase’ of constantly changing his hair color – though Doyoung had never seen him with red hair before.

Also, now Doyoung had a serious commitment with Y/N and their relationship.

But it didn’t stop him from getting butterflies in his stomach at the sight of Taeyong becoming so flustered in front of him. As shy and softhearted as before. He couldn’t help but let his mind wander to whether Taeyong would still have the same behavior under his touch.

About a month ahead, the couple managed to meet Taeyong again at the same café more than a dozen times before he finally gave into their persistence of having him over for dinner.

Y/N and Doyoung had an amazing homemade Italian style pasta almost done by the time Taeyong arrived. His hair was now a light tone of brown and he wore a black turtleneck with black pants, a brown coat hanging over his shoulders. Doyoung dressed pretty similar to him – black pants and gray sweater – while Y/N had a long sleeved bright yellow dress.

The three began drinking the wine Taeyong brought from the moment he stepped inside. All of them were noticeably nervous, but Y/N and Doyoung tried their best to not make Taeyong feel left alone. Y/N asked him about his work, college and personal life, since she didn’t know him besides what her boyfriend chose to say about the older man.

At first he seemed uncomfortable, releasing nervous laughs until the wine started making effect and relaxing him up, letting him be more spontaneous.

After they ate the pasta Taeyong had complimented a thousand times during the meal, a long silence settled as each of them stared at the empty plates and half empty glasses. The table was round, so they sat in a triangular shape.

Y/N’s hand reached for Doyoung’s on top of the table. The move didn’t go unnoticed by Taeyong, who didn’t have the self-awareness to not look at Y/N.

He was so confused.

It couldn’t be possible to like so much the person who literally dated the person he secretly wanted to date. Y/N’s personality was so captivating and bright, but still as caring and nurturing as Doyoung’s. And she was pretty. Of course she was.

And she noticed as the older man absentmindedly gazed at her, fingers playing at the edge of his glass.

Y/N pressed her boyfriend’s hand tightly before standing up, removing Taeyong from his daydream.

“I guess it’s my cue now” she stated, smiling softly.

The woman leaned and left a chaste kiss on Doyoung’s lips, to which Taeyong felt guilty to but watched happen nonetheless. Then she turned to Taeyong, whose face and ears were red (it was impossible to know if due to the wine of to the scene he just witnessed). The older’s eyes followed her movements as she leaned and pressed a kiss on his cheek before heading to her and Doyoung’s shared bedroom.

After a few steps, she stopped and turned to Taeyong again.

“It was great having you here. I really wish you can come more often.”

Then she left her boyfriend and his old crush alone, drunk, mildly turned on and facing each other.

That night, Taeyong and Doyoung had a long and drunk talk. Doyoung explained how things were different from college, how he and Y/N started dating and what they expected for the future. Taeyong couldn’t understand why Doyoung was telling him all this, after all, he owed him nothing.

That went on until the younger spilled out how he felt about Taeyong. That he wanted to become close again and that it was okay if Taeyong did not want to, but Y/N felt just the same way as him and if he wasn’t committed to anyone, what's wrong with trying?

The matter was that Taeyong’s mind was slowed down from all the wine and nothing Doyoung said from that point on made sense to him. He left the apartment without giving Doyoung an answer and thinking he could just avoid the subject if they met again.

Doyoung, whose mind was clearer, noticed how he scared the shit out of Taeyong. Of course that was not the way he hoped the night would end, but he and Y/N came to an agreement before on Taeyong being fully aware on the ground he was stepping onto if he actually accepted to try this thing.

From that night on, the couple changed their approach.

They stopped going together to the café. Instead, since that was the only place they were sure they could meet Taeyong, they decided it was best to not see him together, in an attempt to make him feel less pressured.

The dinner night was never mentioned again and they avoided talking about each other with Taeyong.

Eventually Taeyong accepted to sit and have a coffee with Y/N, then with Doyoung. And then again with Y/N and so on.

He got more and more responsive to subtle touches on his skin, becoming confident to do the same as time passed on. Fingers brushing as he passed the menu, light touches on arms in the middle of a conversation.

Y/N invited Taeyong to a date in the park, and that was the first time they kissed.

It started so slow, as if they were afraid from one another, lips touching very lightly. After a few seconds, Y/N noticed the man release a heavy breath, which was enough to convince her it was okay to go on, that Taeyong did enjoy it. So Y/N pressed her lips harder against his, sliding the tip of her tongue over his bottom lip and deepening the kiss. Her hands cupped Taeyong’s face and determined the pace, while Taeyong used his only as support for his body.

Y/N found him to be a lot different from her boyfriend. While Doyoung was more dominant, Taeyong was the complete opposite. Even when it was clear as water that he wanted it, he wouldn’t make the move. She enjoyed being in that position and taking the lead, though they did nothing but kiss for hours, until both had lips so swollen they actually hurt.

The following day, Doyoung casually met the older at a flower shop. It was a surprise for both, and Doyoung felt afraid of Taeyong trying to avoid him or feel ashamed because of what happened between Y/N and him. Nevertheless, Taeyong was completely in his normal self.

Doyoung walked him back to his studio and asked if he could give him a kiss before going back, which Taeyong didn’t even reply with words. The older just closed his eyes and nodded, opening his mouth in expectation. Watching the scene, Doyoung couldn’t help but feel as he needed Taeyong in his life again. He was so innocent and precious Doyoung wanted to keep him in his pocket and protect him from the world.

For Taeyong, the man’s kiss tasted different. Not only different from Y/N’s, but also different from the past they had together. Doyoung’s lips were still has soft, his mouth still as warm; still, he could sense the carefulness irradiating from the younger man.

Other times he’d meet either Y/N or Doyoung at the café, they would greet him with a kiss so close to his mouth (still not on his mouth) it was frustrating. Taeyong tried his best to show them with touches and gazes that he wanted more, but it seemed to him that neither of them noticed his effort, and voicing it out was a big challenge.

The trigger was the day he sat down with Doyoung and ordered a cappuccino.

As Taeyong rambled about something that happened at work, the flow of his words was suddenly interrupted by the realization Doyoung was bringing a hand to his face. The younger brushed his thumb over Taeyong’s bottom lip, wiping a little cream spot. Taeyong closed his eyes at the sensation and tried to not react, but it was impossible when his heart beat so hard and fast as if wanting to break his chest. He wanted to lean his head and suck Doyoung’s finger into his mouth, to show him how needy he was, to make Doyoung feel pity for putting him in this situation.

However, he waited some more seconds to open his eyes again and start breathing again as well. Doyoung stared at him seeming worried and asked if everything was okay. Of course things weren’t okay.

As they walked out of the café some minutes later, Taeyong closed his eyes to expect the torture of Doyoung’s kiss on his cheek, but it was his lips that felt the touch.

This time he wasn’t able to contain a sigh as Doyoung distanced himself. When Taeyong opened his eyes again, his vision was blurred and he felt a lump in his throat preventing his voice to come out normally.

“Please, Doyoung” he begged. “I can’t take it anymore.”

Doyoung brought one hand up to caress the older’s left cheek.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to push you” he said softly.

But that wasn’t what Taeyong meant and he got more frustrated, tears unwillingly escaping his eyes.

“It’s not that” he spoke, looking down.

Doyoung calmly asked what was the problem, gently making Taeyong face him again and wiping his tears away.

“I want you, Doyoung. And Y/N as well” he said in one breath. “I want you both to take care of me, make me feel good. It has been a while now” tears kept rushing down his face, even when Doyoung kissed him and told him he and Y/N would be more than happy to do whatever he asked for.

Four months after that episode, Taeyong woke up in the middle of the night with an uncomfortable feeling between his legs. Involuntarily, he ran his right hand through his clothed crotch, realizing he had an erection.

Though he tried to for some long minutes, Taeyong was unable to go back to sleep, so he sat restless and leaned his back against the headboard of the enormous bed. The dim light from the street allowed him to observe Doyoung peacefully asleep in a white t-shirt on the other side of the bed, as well as Y/N in a nightgown in the middle of them.

Taeyong was getting more used to sleep in their bed than his own. He was getting used to be their baby.

It’s not that the man couldn’t take care of himself. Not only he could, but he did it for a long time. He wasn’t a child. He knew his body, he was able to recognize his necessities. Taeyong was an intense person, and that was noticeable at first sight. He was used to commit seriously to whatever he proposed to do, especially when it came to work; he worked hard to be the best, to do the best job.

But at the moment, he just felt helpless as his cock began hurting from the erection while the people he loved slept right next to him. He needed relief, and still couldn’t avoid the thought that jerking off right now to the amazing sex they had last night was wrong.

Mindlessly, the man reached for his phallus inside his clothes, bringing it out and just holding it, feeling the warmth of his palm against the pulsating member. Taeyong was decided to not jerk off, though he couldn’t keep his hips totally still, slightly thrusting into his fist, eyes closed to make the most of any sensation he could get, biting his lip to avoid releasing any noises.

And since he closed his eyes, he wasn’t able to realize the moment Doyoung woke up and watched the older quietly whimper for a few seconds before waking Y/N with a kiss at the nape of her neck, squeezing her waist with his right hand.

Y/N woke up with low hum that went unnoticed by Taeyong, who remained focused in the sort of failed attempt to please himself in silent. Doyoung’s body pressed against Y/N’s back and she suddenly became conscious of his hip upon hers.

The woman brought her right hand to Taeyong’s thigh and gently squeezed it, making him immediately open his teary eyes in surprise. His gaze shifted between Y/N and Doyoung, seeming desperate for help.

“Shh… Do you want help, baby?” Y/N whispered.

As Taeyong nodded and mouthed an almost inaudible “please”, she moved to Taeyong’s left, kneeling by his side, leaving him in the middle of her and Doyoung. The other man also moved closer to Taeyong, with a caring look in his dark eyes and a soft smile.

Y/N’s head rested on Taeyong’s shoulder for a moment, caressing his thigh and gazing at the hard cock, red tip glistening. She turned her head to face him, guiding his face towards hers with her left hand.

“Can I kiss you, baby?” she asked.

Taeyong hummed and closed his eyes, leaning in to reach her lips. The kiss was gentle as Y/N rushed her hands over his torso.

After watching the view for a while, Doyoung decided to join the couple, kissing Taeyong’s right thigh without getting up. His right hand reached for the other man’s erection, pumping it softly, taking whimpers from Taeyong’s lips into Y/N’s mouth.

One of her hands went under his t-shirt to play with his sensitive nipples, squeezing them one at a time; her kiss dropped to his jaw and neck, freeing Taeyong’s moans and needy whimpers.

Doyoung removed the man’s hand from his own member in order to properly please him, tightening his grip over the flesh. Taeyong was already so aroused that even small touches made him feel like tumbling down, which was perfectly visible for the other two.

“Y/N, spit” Doyoung demanded.

The oldest growled as Y/N’s kisses abruptly stopped, opening his eyes to watch as the woman let a long string of saliva drip from her tongue onto his pulsating shaft. Y/N knew it wasn’t necessary since Taeyong’s cock was already wet from the pre-cum oozing from his tip, but her boys loved it messy.

She kept just watching as Doyoung started jerking Taeyong again, as the man closed his eyes again and made small hip trusts into the younger’s touch.

Then he reached Doyoung’s busy arm with her left hand, signaling him with her eyes to stop movements and let go of Taeyong’s dick. As he felt the touch vanish, Taeyong opened his eyes in despair, right in the moment Y/N bent in front of him and took the head of his member inside her hot mouth, sucking it lightly before pulling off to look at Taeyong’s face.

Doyoung raised himself and supported his torso in one elbow, the other hand still resting against the other’s leg.

When Y/N leaned in to lick at Taeyong’s cock again, Doyoung went in as well, both sticking their tongues out and licking it up and down repeatedly.

Taeyong whined and bucked his hip up, the sensation and the scene in front of him triggering his orgasm. His eyes fluttered shut involuntarily as spurts of cum trailed out of his cock. Y/N and Doyoung alternated the leaking member into their mouths, both eager to taste Taeyong’s seed.

As his climax ended, Taeyong squirmed in overstimulation as Y/N kissed the head of his softening cock before dropping it and kissing Doyoung, mixing the cum in their mouths. The couple moved to allow Taeyong into the kiss, having him taste himself.

“Now let’s go back to sleep, huh? You were so good to us, love” Doyoung whispered, kissing the other’s cheek and laying down again. By the time Taeyong recovered his breath and laid down again, dick back into his clothes, Y/N and Doyoung were drifting into sleep, caring to cuddle the oldest who laid in the middle of them. Doyoung rested his head by Taeyong’s, and Y/N positioned herself in the curve between his shoulders and neck. Taeyong mumbled a "thank you so much", and feeling Y/N's warm breath hitting his skin, he finally went back to sleep again.

A/N: I chose to put this by the end of the fic since there is a huge spoiler lol this is the first of all poly fics I worked on that I feel confident on posting (even though it does not involve a threesome or more than one person being pleasured). Also, about the disclaimer about not portraying their personalities - can you imagine Taeyong, as the cleaning maniac he is, just going back to sleep? LOL Feedback is always welcome!