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#mutual attraction at any rate
kaidasdesires · 2 months
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"Still Monster."
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☾ grouping: dom! vampire/incubus jay x switch! vampire jungwon x sub! human afab reader
☾ rating: 18+ explicit and mature content, smut and angst
☾ wc: 6.8k
☾ content warnings: vampires, jay is also an incubus, aphrodisiacs, tentacles ♡, lots of cum, seriously like so much cum, breeding, voyeurism, mutual masturbation kinda, technically has anal / anal play, orgasm control, slight degradation, very minor a/b/o themes
☾ summary: Jay catches Jungwon getting off in the middle of the night. He cant wait to get his hands on him and on you but he's got a special way of getting you both involved. Jungwon's angry and doesn't understand why you seem to be attracted to Jay all of a sudden. You just want someone to touch you already.
☾ author note: This story is fiction and does not reflect the personalities or desires of those it is written about. This story has some scenes that may be uncomfortable for some readers, read at your own discretion.
Today was just like any other time that you stopped by your boyfriend Jungwon’s dorm on a weekend. Except this time some of the boys returned home to see their parents over the long weekend. You had stopped in to find yourself alone with just Jungwon and Jay. You were comfortable with all of his bandmates but your boyfriend tended to be a little shy around them when it comes to PDA. You decided it would be good to just watch some TV with them both until Jay decided to go to bed and then you and Jungwon could be alone. Jungwon was always more comfortable and cute when the two of you were by yourselves. 
When you think back to the times that you've spent with Jungwon and his bandmates, you recall the few times that the boys had gotten just a little too drunk and you had learned that they were all monsters. Not bad monsters per se, but they weren't human. 
Your sweet boyfriend was a vampire. He had been turned not very long ago so he still runs into many more hardships than the others. Sometimes he can't control himself well and the boys have to send you home for your safety. Jungwon would never hurt you, but they never wanted to take any chances when he hadn’t recently had an opportunity to feed. 
Jay, the boy sitting on the lounge chair on the other side of the room, was also a vampire. However, he had been a vampire for a long time and had learned how to control himself and his powers so much so that it was originally impossible for you to guess what he was. 
You hadn't figured out what all of the members were yet, though you had some ideas. Some of them thought it was a fun game to see how long it would take for you to figure it out. You only knew that you couldn’t come to the house on full moons and that you should regularly bring snacks or presents otherwise your things might start to disappear. 
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Jay had been worked up for days. Any time he was anywhere even relatively close to Jungwon he could feel his face flush red with arousal and embarrassment. He couldn't stop his eyes from wandering down the younger boy's slim figure. Especially if Jungwon was walking around shirtless. Jay couldn’t help wanting to run his fingers down the boy's abs and vlines. He couldn’t stop his eyes from getting stuck on the tent that Jungwon’s cock created in his sweatpants. 
He shook his head trying to stop himself from having these lewd thoughts of his bandmate, yet he still couldn't stop his imagination from wandering about what the younger member had looked like when Jay had heard him whining. 
He couldn't stop replaying that night over and over in his head. It consumed him, it was almost like he was addicted to the memory.
That night all the members were gone except for Jungwon and himself. He was in bed trying to sleep when the other came into their shared room for the night. Jungwon had called his name quietly, trying to see if the older boy was awake. For some reason, Jay decided not to answer fearing Jungwon would just pester him to take him somewhere for snacks or beg him for “just one round of a video game” with him. If that had happened Jay knew he wouldn’t be able to say no to the younger boy's sparkling eyes and pouty lips. Jungwon had gotten settled into his bed and played on his phone for a while. Jay had finally started to drift off to sleep until he heard a soft whimper from Jungwon’s side of the room. Concerned at first, Jay’s eyes shot open, but as he listened for a moment he realized that his first impression was a mistake. He could hear the younger boy's quiet moans and the gentle movement of his body against the bed. Jay’s senses automatically heightened in the dark so he could hear every whine, every gasp, every time the younger boy would whisper “Hyung.” into the pillow. 
“Hyung.” 
Jay’s cock twitched and he squeezed his eyes shut. “Fuck.” he mumbled. Quickly falling silent to make sure the younger hadn't heard him curse. He sat and listened but it wasn’t long before Jay couldn't control himself anymore. The older boy's cock was pulsing in his pants painfully. He couldn't stop himself when he started rutting his cock against the bed. He rutted slowly at first just trying to ease some of the pressure. Unfortunately for him, the pressure only got worse as he got more aroused and he suddenly found himself fucking into his hand. He couldn't help imagining the younger boy underneath him, his hand vaguely mimicking the feeling of what he imagined Jungwon’s hole would feel like wrapped around his cock. He couldn't believe he was getting off to his bandmate like this, but fuck it felt so good. He wanted to cum, he wished he could cum inside Jungwon instead though. He chased his orgasm, rutting slowly but harshly and squeezing his hand firmly, still trying hard to be quiet so the younger wouldn't hear him. 
“h-hyung I- I'm going to cum.” 
Jay’s hips stuttered. Jungwon was getting off to one of his hyungs? Jungwon was into guys? So many thoughts flew through Jay’s mind before they were interrupted by another moan. 
“Jay Hyung…” 
Jay’s eyes shot open in disbelief and shock. He covered his mouth with his other hand, he didn't want Jungwon to hear the way he was panting now.
“Hyung please… please don't stop.” 
That was all Jay needed. He thrust into his hand roughly and shook as he rode out one of the strongest orgasms of his life. He pressed his face into his pillow to keep his noises silenced. Listening to the sound of Jungwon cumming only made his orgasm stronger, the aftershocks shaking him to the core. Jay felt his cheeks burning when he realized what he had just done, the feeling of his release dripping down his leg. 
He listened as he heard Jungwon cleaning himself up. His roommate must have kept wipes inside his bedside table or something. Then Jungwon quietly got up to go to the bathroom and when he came back it wasn't long before Jay could hear the snores of the younger boy. 
Jay followed these actions similarly, except he couldn't wipe himself off, so instead he did a walk of shame in his stained pants to the bathroom. In this moment he was thankful that it was just him and Jungwon at the dorms. If anyone caught him like this it would cause a conversation he wasn’t ready to have yet. 
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After that day, Jay had a hard time controlling his powers around Jungwon. While Jay did have heightened senses like every other vampire, Jay was different. He was a mixed breed. Half-vampire, half-incubus. He was bitten at a young age and had learned to manage both parts of his breed. His specialty was that he could make anyone feel the sensation of tingling anywhere on their body just by being in the same space as them. He could control the sensation even without seeing the person. His bites were like an aphrodisiac, which was common among vampires, but being half incubus made his bites so much stronger than normal. He could also knock people unconscious with his bite, rendering them immobile for a short time.
But there was one thing that made him the most different. The thing he had been nervous to share with his bandmates, and a conversation he wasn't sure he was ready to have yet. He was afraid that his friends would make fun of him or think he's weird. Jay had tentacles. They were black and smooth, all of them varying in size. He could control them, but they also had a mind of their own, hungry for sex twenty-four-seven. Jay would occasionally have what you could call a rutt or heat, suddenly getting an overwhelming desire to fuck and breed someone. Usually, he would simply just find someone at a club to take care of his needs and then leave them unconscious in a hotel with a fuzzy memory. He didn’t like doing that, it made him feel a little gross, but at least that always seemed to do the trick for him. 
So here he was. Sitting in the same room as you and Jungwon, two lovebirds who wanted nothing more than for him to leave and give them alone time. The pheromones dripping from you and your boyfriend caused Jay to be on edge. His cock gets aroused at every new wave of smell. He bites his lip as you adjust your body, your legs parting under the bottoms you wore. He could smell your arousal too.  
Truthfully, you couldn't help but be aroused, not only was Jungwon wearing grey sweatpants and a tight-fitted shirt allowing for his slim figure to be on display but when you arrived at the dorms Jay had just gotten out of the shower. Towel loose around his waist, skin glistening, abs on display, and hair wet. You couldn't help but blush at the sight when you almost ran into him. Jay was so undeniably pretty—perks of being an incubus of course. 
Jay had had enough of this. He decided he wanted to have some fun. The pheromones of lust and arousal were overwhelming. He wanted nothing more than to fuck you and your boyfriend senseless, and he knew just how to do it. 
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You smiled at Jungwon as he wrapped his arm around you on the couch. Your boyfriend was so warm and he always smelt so good. You snuggled into his side as you watched a movie with him and his roommate. Jay sat across the room, occasionally glancing at the two of you. You noticed this small detail but didn’t think much of it. 
You were focused on the movie, comfortable and warm by Jungwon’s side. That was until you started to feel this strong tingling sensation traveling slowly from your fingers up your arms and around your shoulders and then down onto your chest. The sensation traveled around your chest until it was fully focused on your nipples. Your face turned pink. What the hell was going on? Why were your nipples so hard and sensitive all of a sudden? It felt like someone was running their fingers across your nipples over and over and occasionally pinching them. You wiped your hands down your chest causally, trying to not draw attention to yourself but also trying to stop whatever this sensation was. However, the feeling still didn’t go away.
Jungwon peeked down at you when you moved and was aroused at the sight of your hard nipples poking out of your shirt. He quickly looked away, trying to keep himself from causing a problem in his sweatpants. You cursed yourself for not wearing a bra today. Although, you honestly never really did because you knew these boys in the house wouldn’t mind, and of course Jungwon wouldn’t deny the view. 
The feeling slowly rose until it was around your neck causing your breath to hitch. It felt like someone was choking you, but not enough to hurt you. It felt as though someone was teasing you. Tightness around your neck just enough to make you breathless but not enough to make you whine. Once again you, albeit hopelessly, adjusted your jewelry in the hopes of getting the feeling to subside. 
Then the feeling traveled down to your thighs nice and slowly leaving a trail of heat as it went. 
Jungwon could feel your body warming up. He watched you curiously out of the corner of his eye not sure what's gotten you all worked up.
When the tingling was tracing your heat you couldn't help but begin to squirm a bit. The feeling was running along the outside of your panties and then over your clit. Teasing at your entrances one at a time and then back up to your clit. Despite how tightly you closed your legs the feeling just wouldn’t stop. 
Your face was red as you moved around next to Jungwon, trying to get more comfortable. 
Jungwon, despite being a younger vampire, had many powers of his own, most of them common for vampires. His senses were heightened, especially in the dark. His bite had a strong aphrodisiac ability as well, and he knew this because of an incident involving another band member. Jungwon is also particularly good at noticing changes in pheromones, smells, and small temperature changes. And right now, he was almost drowning in the smell of your arousal. But, it wasn't just you. He could smell it coming off of Jay too. 
Jungwon didn't know what Jay’s powers were. All he knew right now was that here you were next to him, pouring out pheromones while Jay was smirking and radiating heat like crazy. 
It makes him jealous. Jungwon knows Jay is up to something. Especially when the older one looks over and Jungwon catches the golden glint in his eyes. Jungwon looked away when their eyes met, his jaw clenching on its own accord.  
Jungwon was pissed, he didn’t understand why his bandmate was messing with you like this and why you were so responsive? Was there something going on between you two? 
Suddenly, Jungwon stood up and grabbed your arm. “Come with me,” he said quietly but sternly. Then your boyfriend was pulling you harshly towards the bathroom. He pulls you through the threshold of the door and closes it before he lets you go. The red in his eyes frightened you but you knew that he wouldn't hurt you. Well, Jungwon had never let you be around him when he was hungry and unable to feed, but you're sure that that's not what this is. You had never been bitten by him before, or at all for that matter. The red in his eyes you had seen before, but this color… was a little different than normal. You could tell he was upset. 
Jungwon however, can't control himself too well considering the overwhelming smell of arousal. His cock was already straining against his boxers. 
Before you even had a chance to ask him if he was okay you were being pushed up against the wall Jungwon’s hand grasped your chin tightly before tilting your head to the side. His breath was heavy, he was almost panting against your neck. 
“Won?! What are you doing?” You squeaked out, his tongue already gliding across your neck. The sudden sexual act catches you off guard and sends a chill through your body. 
“Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you, baby. But God damn, if you want to fuck him so bad, then maybe you should!” he hissed. You were speechless. You didn't realize that he was able to tell how aroused you were but, how did that have anything to do with Jay? Your thoughts were racing but then the sudden realization of Jungwon’s words hit you. You only had enough time to grab onto the sides of his shirt and close your eyes before his teeth sunk into the soft flesh of your neck. 
He bit you.
It hurts at first. It hurts to the point that you whine and attempt to push Jungwon away trying to get him to stop, but he’s too strong. Especially when he's angry like this. He only tightens his grip on your chin as you feel the pain shooting through your body. 
The pain is followed quickly by a coldness that sends a chill through your body. It feels like your blood is icing over. The chill frightens you, worried he’s going to drink too much. That you’ll pass out. That he won't be able to stop. “J-jungwon.” you stammered.
But then there was no more pain and the coldness fades, and then… heat. Jay’s tingles are no longer touching you but this heat that is starting to radiate throughout your body is almost worse. Your skin is on fire. Slowly burning from your neck to the tips of your fingers and around your body until your whole body is on fire. The heat pulses through you. Almost in what seems like an instant, you want nothing more than to start rutting against Jungwon. 
The heat reaches your pussy and you whine, again you tried to pull away from Jungwon. It feels as though someone has placed a vibrator on your clit, in your pussy, and in your ass all at the same time. Strong enough to keep you on edge but not enough to make you cum. The feeling slowly built you couldn't stop your legs from shaking underneath you and you bit your lip to keep yourself from moaning. Then Jungwon releases you, turns around, and walks out the door. 
You stand there confused. You’re not sure what’s going on and still not sure what any of this had to do with Jay. All you know is that you had somehow upset Jungwon, and now you were ragingly horny because of his bite. You needed to get rid of this feeling before things get out of hand. Why did Jungwon biting you turn you on so much? Why did he just leave you in here all alone like this? You stood there for a minute trying to gather yourself, the vibrations and arousal so overwhelming that you needed to just stand for a minute to adjust, maybe throw some water on your face. 
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When Jungwon goes back out to the living room, Jay sits beside him, and the older boy looks concerned. “Is everything okay Won? Are you feeling alright?” He asked. 
Jungwon rolls his eyes at him and doesn’t answer, the ground becomes much more interesting than everything else. 
That’s when Jungwon feels it. The tingling down his spine and up his thighs. The feeling caused his cock to start to throb in his pants. 
The younger boy shifts in his seat starting to break a sweat. Did his bite backfire? How could that happen? Jungwon’s heart starts to race now too, confusion lacing his brows. 
The tingling feeling reaches his cock and travels up to the tip causing Jungwon to let out a small squeak. Shifting again he tries to adjust himself, leaning over briefly. Jungwon is partially aware of the fact that Jay is still sitting there waiting for an answer. 
Now the feeling is traveling slowly up and down his cock mimicking the feeling of his hand when he's alone. Then a second feeling reaches to a place he’s never really explored before. His face is red and he squeezes his eyes shut, his hands gripping tightly on his sweatpants.
Jay can only smirk at the scene in front of him. Watching his work on his bandmate with satisfaction. Jungwon was cute so flustered like this.  
“Wonie? What’s wrong?” He asks, playing dumb to the situation he very well knows that he is causing.
“Hyung I just.. I don’t..” Jungwon can’t even get a sentence out. Jay thinks it's pathetic, but he likes it this way. Jungwon’s cock is growing harder by the second and he tries to cover the tent in his sweatpants. He’s embarrassed and ashamed by how hard he is with Jay sitting right next to him watching him. 
Suddenly, he remembers everything that had just happened when the smell hits him again. The whole reason he had gotten up in the first place. His head shoots up just to meet Jay’s golden eyes and pretty fangs only visible because of the stupid smirk plastered across his face. 
“H-hyung?” Jungwon stutters looking at Jay with wide eyes. 
The tingling feeling abruptly goes away as Jay gets up and walks away into the kitchen. Jungwon's cock, however, is harder than ever. 
Jungwon notices you coming back into the living room. Your face is flushed and you're barely able to keep yourself up.
“I need to get some water.” You say quietly when you catch Jungwon’s gaze. The heat between your legs and the friction of your shirt against your nipples causes you to get wetter and wetter with every step. 
 As Jungwon watches you turn into the kitchen he finally realizes what’s going on. Jay is doing all of this. He’s the one working you both up. 
Jungwon has never done anything sexual with Jay. Sure they had kissed once or twice and sure there were stolen glances but nothing other than that. Why was Jay doing this? What was his goal? 
Jungwon's cock throbs again at the idea of Jay purposefully turning you on. The idea of Jay’s teeth pressing into your neck. The idea of Jay’s teeth pressing into his- wait. Jungwon shook his head trying to shake the thought away. He shouldn’t be thinking of his hyung like that. 
A vampire can’t drink from another vampire to feed. But.. would his powers work on Jay? Does the older boy have more powers? Could Jay make him feel the way Jungwon made you feel? 
Jungwon shuddered at that thought. Why was he thinking like this? 
He gets up and walks toward the kitchen but comes to an abrupt stop when he finds Jay with his body pushing yours against the wall. Jungwon froze, eyes wide and unsure how to process the visual in front of him. Jay’s mouth is on your neck, but he wasn't biting you, only kissing your collarbones gently. However, that sight was enough to cause Jungwon to let out a tiny whine. 
You on the other hand. Didn’t want Jay to stop. You wanted his body closer to yours. You wanted his mouth on your neck, on your chest, everywhere and anywhere. You wanted him so bad and you couldn’t control it. Your knees were buckling underneath you as desperate whines and gasps fell from your mouth. He continued to kiss and lick your neck, and you could feel the shit-eating smirk on his face the entire time. 
You weren't prepared when Jay’s teeth sunk into you. But unlike the pain that Jungwon’s bite gave you, you felt nothing but pleasure this time. So much so that you felt so fuzzy and hot and there were stars in your vision. You grabbed onto Jay’s arms to try to keep yourself upright, and he pulled you in tighter supporting your weight. After another moment your ears started ringing and your vision faded to black. Then heard nothing but the sound of your heart and you felt yourself falling. 
Jay turned to face Jungwon, his eyes completely changed from his regular brown color. Jay licked the blood from his lips as he stared at the younger boy. Jungwon immediately got chills, he had never seen any of his bandmates completely “unmasked” like this. 
Jay was now carrying you. He carried you past Jungwon saying nothing to him as he took you into their shared bedroom. He laid you down gently on his bed before turning back to Jungwon who had followed quietly. Jungwon was taken aback by the scene and a little nervous. He wasn’t sure if Jay was angry. Honestly, he wasn't sure what was going on at all. He had no idea that Jay was this capable with so many abilities. 
“Hyung…” Jungwon said again, “What… why are you doing this?” 
Jay chuckled, walked up to Jungwon, and turned the younger boy’s head up to look at him. Jungwon looked him in the eyes and nearly collapsed when he felt Jay's hand press against his cock.
“I just wanted to play with these two pretty little toys and I’m honestly I’m tired of watching you two flirt and you not getting laid already.” Jay shrugged. “Plus, I wanted to show you how you made me feel the night you came saying my name while you thought I was asleep.” 
Jungwon's face was red and burning with embarrassment but he was so hard and it took everything in him to not rut against his hyung’s palm. “You heard me?” he said quietly, not sure if he wanted the answer. 
“Every. Single. Word.” Jay whispered back, purposefully annunciating his words into his roommate's ear. 
Jay grabbed Jungwon and pushed him onto his bed. The same bed where Jungwon moaned his name and begged him to cum. Jay was on top of him before he could process what was happening. His wrists were pinned above his head with the weight of Jay’s body. He pushed against Jay but Jungwon was much weaker than him.
Because of his arousal, Jungwon accidentally bucked up against his bandmate while he was trying to push him off. At that moment, Jungwon felt how hard Jay was too. Jay’s cock was rock hard, and his cock pressing against his Hyung’s cock created an intense desire to continue to hump against him. 
Jay leaned down, his breath tickling Jungwon’s ear. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Do you want me to make you feel the same way you made y/n feel? Do you want me to turn you into nothing but a fuck toy? A useless fleshlight where you won't be able to cum without my permission and I can use you as long as I want to?” 
Jungwon could only stutter, the older boy's words causing his head to spin. Everything was happening so fast. Jay licked Jungwon’s neck eliciting a moan that he had only had the pleasure of hearing once before when Jungwon thought he was asleep. 
All Jungwon could think about was how hard he was, how badly he wanted to fuck you senseless, and how badly he wanted Jay to fuck him too. Anything to relieve this pressure. He was so hot and so horny he didn’t know what else to say other than a pathetic “please hyung” in response. 
Jay smirked against Jungwon’s skin, “Good boy Wonnie. This will only hurt for a second. You trust me, right baby boy?” 
Jungwon nodded before he even realized what he was agreeing to. When he understood what the older boy meant, it was already too late. Jay’s teeth had already started to sink into Jungwon’s skin. 
The pain was excruciating. It was worse than anything Jungwon had ever felt. Jungwon let out a cry in pain as he gripped Jay’s arms his nails digging into the skin. Jay let go of one of the younger boys' wrists to gently stroke his cheek. It was reassuring to Jungwon as he knew that Jay didn't mean to hurt him. 
It was his cry that awoke you from your bite-induced slumber. You looked over in your half-dazed state to find your boyfriend and his bandmate on top of each other on the other bed. You whined at the erotic sight but you couldn’t move. Jay’s bite had rendered you temporarily immobile. But it had only made the heat in your body 100 times worse if that was even possible.
Jungwon felt tears picking at the corner of his eyes as Jay’s teeth tore his skin. Jungwon never thought getting bitten as a vampire by another vampire would hurt this bad. He just wanted it to stop, he was starting to panic from the pain. 
Jungwon was quickly distracted from the pain when he could feel his sweatpants being removed. But how? Jay still had one hand on his wrist and the other running through his hair. 
His sweatpants hit the floor. That's when he felt them. Heavy, and damp, dragging lightly across his skin before reaching around the hem of his underwear and beginning to pull.
Jungwon started to panic again, this was all becoming so overwhelming. His flight or fight caused him to push against Jay again to no avail. What the hell was touching him? What was going on? But he couldn’t move. At this point, Jay’s bite had started to affect him. The cold damp lengths dragging along the skin on his legs felt hot and his cock felt as though it was getting harder with every second to the point where it was almost hurting. 
He felt a tightness starting to coil up in his abdomen that made him feel desperate. He couldn't help it when he started to rut against Jay, losing all of his self-consciousness and just chasing release.
Jay smirked again before pulling off of Jungwon's neck. Jungwon was dizzy, everything was hot and the walls were spinning. “Take your time, you’ll get your share when you can get up,” he said.
Then Jay was gone. 
The older vampire had made his way back to you. “Look at you pretty girl, so worked up and desperate for me.” He cooed at you for looking so needy on Jungwon’s bed.  
Jay was shirtless now, his body glimmering because of his sweat. He was only in his boxers and fuck you wanted him so bad. You could see how hard he was and how badly his cock was leaking and you just wanted him now. 
You were able to move now with the help of Jay assisting you. The first thing you decided to do was kneel in front of Jay. Surprisingly you did so without any nervousness about Jungwon. At this moment you just wanted to please Jay. You just wanted something, anything. You pulled Jay’s underwear down in a hurry and you can hear him hiss at the temperature change. 
But when you place your lips around his cock you could hear him curse in satisfaction. “Fuck, baby. What a good girl.” he sighed in contentment. Then he placed his hand on the back of your head and slowly started thrusting into your mouth. You were worried about choking but you didn't care. It felt so good. You just wanted to please and be pleased.
While Jay fucked into your mouth you felt something reaching up under your shirt. It was cold, and damp as it rubbed up against the skin of your stomach, inching slowly higher and higher. 
You jumped, but Jay’s grasp was too tight for you to go anywhere. Not that you wanted to anyway. 
“I won’t hurt you. They won’t hurt you.” Jay said quietly, slowing down his thrusts as he looked down into your frightened eyes. His eyes were sincere. Then you saw them. Several slender black tentacles reached from around Jay’s back. 
You were still scared but you trusted him not to hurt you and you couldn’t help but want to keep feeling more as the first tentacle slipped around your nipple. Pinching it ever so slightly, and then rubbing against it over and over again. 
Then you felt another, gliding along your leg, up your thigh, and under your skirt until it was playing at the hem of your panties. It teased you, causing you to spread your legs open wider. You wanted it to touch you. 
You whined on Jay's cock, causing him to groan and thrust into your mouth harder.
Jay wouldn’t be able to last much longer, and he knew that since he had gotten himself so worked up just from arousing the two of you. 
You felt the one tentacle slip into your panties. It traced your heat up and down, you felt how slick it was but were unsure if it was from yourself or the tentacle. 
Jay gripped onto your hair and started to thrust hard and fast. You started to choke a bit, tears running from your eyes. You wanted to brace yourself on Jay’s legs but found your wrists suddenly trapped behind your back. Tentacles twisted around them keeping them tightly in place. You whined again. 
“God, fuck-” Jay cursed. The tentacles distracted you from the uncomfortableness of choking, causing you to tremble at the overstimulation. 
Nobody had noticed Jungwon had gotten up. He was watching as Jay fucked your throat. Jungwon’s cock was dripping with pre cum. 
Jay didn’t realize he had gotten up. Jay didn’t hear Jungwon come up behind him and he shouldn’t have cum as hard as he did when Jungwon whispered into his ear. 
“Please Hyung.. cum for me Hyung” 
But he did. Jay came harder than he ever had, thrusting into you harshly as you gagged on his cock. He groaned and let his head fall back as his cum ran down the back of your throat. 
When the older boy came to a stop, it was only a matter of seconds before he picked you up and placed you back onto the bed. Your panties were practically ripped off as soon as your back hit the sheets and Jungwon watched in awe while Jay's tentacles started to work on your body. One length was teasing your nipples, pinching and flicking before going to the other one. One immediately teasing your clit, slowly circling it to keep you on edge. Two more pulling your legs open to keep you from closing them even if you were overstimulated. 
You whined as one tentacle slowly teased your entrance. It pushed into you nice and slow, going deeper inch by inch as it released its own lubricant. You felt so full already. Your whines echoed through the room as the overstimulation from the tentacles caused that coil in your stomach to tighten. It still wasn't enough, you wanted more. You needed more.  
Jungwon couldn’t wait much longer, he thought he might cum untouched just watching the scene in front of him. 
So he got onto the bed, crawling between you and Jay, and got on top of you. He seemed completely unfazed by the tentacles as he leaned down to kiss you. His kisses were passionate and sloppy. Jungwon’s tongue acted as another tentacle as he pushed his tongue into your mouth. Jay’s tentacles still worked on you underneath him, unbothered by the smaller boy’s weight. A tentacle instead found its way to Jungwon. Teasing at a place that Jungwon had been too shy to adventure in on his own.
He was flustered, but he let the tentacle adventure. He trusted his hyung as the tentacle slid around his balls, and then pressed gently against his rim. The foreign feeling elicits an erotic moan from your boyfriend. Jungwon whined into your mouth and you whined back, running your fingers in his hair and pulling gently.
The tentacle inside of you felt so good. Not big enough to make you feel fucked out but enough to make you want more. You wanted more. Jungwon wanted more. Both of you so caught up in insatiable lust. 
“Fucking hell baby girl.” Jungwon cursed at the sight of how already gone you were. Jay’s tentacle removed itself from inside you and it was quickly replaced by Jungwon’s cock. 
There was no pain as he slipped right into you because of how wet you were. And as soon as he was sure that you were okay, he lost all control. He fucked into you harshly and didn’t hold back. The tentacles that had wrapped themselves around your legs, pulled them up so Jungwon could fuck into your deeper. Another tentacle found its way to your asshole and began to fill you up inch by inch from there. 
You began to feel so full that with every thrust you felt yourself getting closer and closer but not close enough. 
Jungwon was shaking. The tentacle had lubricated itself and found its way inside Jungwon, teasing and prodding around inside of him. Jungwon had never felt this feeling before. He trembled at the fullness as the length pushed in and out of him with every thrust. The tightness in his core built quickly too.
Jay was hard again, a tentacle jerking him off slowly as he watched his work. 
Jungwon was fucking into you relentlessly, and so deeply too. You moaned over and over as you found yourself being taken in both holes. Jungwon’s cock and the tentacle taking turns ruining your holes. The sight of your boyfriend so sweaty and desperate to please you but also to cum himself was euphoric for you. He looked so incredibly beautiful like this.
It was when the black length found Jungwon’s prostate that the younger boy started cursing. His stomach was so tight. He was so on edge. He was cumming… but he wasn’t… he wasn’t cumming… he was stuck, right on the edge. 
And with those thrusts and his noises and the tentacle rubbing your clit you found yourself in the same position. The coil in your stomach is as tight as it could go. But you couldn’t get over the edge. 
Jay reeled in the pleasure of watching you both chase your orgasms that wouldn’t come without his permission. 
Then Jungwon remembered what the older boy had said before, he wouldn't be able to come unless Jay permitted you. 
With tears in his eyes, he cried out desperately “Jay hyung please let me cum, please.”
Jay’s eyes rolled back into his head as he neared his second orgasm. His tentacles began to throb alongside his cock. He had entered a rutt without realizing it. “Fuck.” Jay cursed. 
Jay was going to have to breed you or else his rutt wouldn't go away. He bit his lip as he allowed his tentacles to take over. 
“Jay please,” you whimpered, a quiet beg for release alongside your boyfriend.
And with that, Jay no longer had any control. You squeaked when the tentacle that had been playing with your nipple suddenly found its way into your mouth. It fucked deeply into your throat keeping you quiet. Then you felt warmth traveling down your throat, the tentacle was cumming down your throat. Then there was heat as the length in your ass started throbbing, and suddenly you felt it filling you up too. 
Jungwon was experiencing the same thing as you as his own tentacle began to breed his ass, filling him with cum. The tentacle began to hit the younger boy's prostate causing him to cum with a moan. Jay had let him finally cum, and you couldn't help but blush at the feeling of your boyfriend's cum inside your cunt.
You suddenly felt a wave rush over you as Jungwon cried out in pleasure. You were so close to cumming, shaking, and grabbing onto him as you neared your release. He moaned your name as he fucked into you, but as soon as he was done and you felt him slip out only to be replaced by one more tentacle. 
This tentacle was a bit different, it was thicker and ribbed and you could feel it pulsing. You looked to Jay who was watching you as he chased his final release. 
Jay bit his lip and you watched as he came all over the tentacle who was jerking him off. That was all you needed to finally reach the edge, but as you were orgasming you felt a heaviness and fullness that you had never experienced before. Your ass was full of cum, the tentacle in your mouth had filled your stomach with cum and now, you were being filled to your limit. Jay was breeding you. His cum mixed with your boyfriend's filled your abdomen leaving you leaking all over the sheets. You cried in pleasure as the heaviness took over. 
You don’t remember much after your orgasm. All you remember is Jungwon carrying you to a bath and Jay washing your hair before bringing you back to bed. You were pretty sure you saw Jay washing Jungwon as well but you weren’t 100% sure because you were in such an almost high state of euphoric bliss.
When you woke up the next morning you found yourself being spooned by Jungwon while laying in Jay’s arms. You looked down to find that your stomach was no longer full… there’s no way that was all a dream right? You pouted slightly at the lack of fullness. 
You heard a small chuckle and looked up to find Jay looking back at you. “Don’t worry pretty girl, I’ll breed you as many times as your little body can handle it.” 
You blushed, embarrassed that he had caught you pouting. 
“But for now, let’s rest more. I’m enjoying these cuddles.” He said and he smiled and closed his eyes. And with that you felt Jungwon’s grip on you tighten as you fell back asleep feeling safe and comfortable in your boyfriend's arms. Maybe when you wake up again you'd have two boyfriends instead of one. 
881 notes · View notes
xomakara · 1 month
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Office Secrets
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SUMMARY |  You're in a relationship with your boss, Yunho. Except no one in the office knows that you're together.
PAIRINGS |  Yunho x Reader
RATING |  Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+
GENRE |  Manager!Yunho, Employee!Reader, non-idol au, established relationship, smut, secret relationship,
CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (female giving/male receiving), praise kink, pet names, office sex, bedroom sex, creampie
LENGTH |  8,502 words
TAGLIST | --
NETWORKS | @illusionnet @atzhouse @cromernet @wonderlandnet
@othersideoutlawsnetwork @k-vanity @ksmutsociety
AUTHOR’S NOTE |  Hi there. Linda here. Here's another Yunho fic lolololol. Thank you @aaagustd for the beautiful banner~ And now I'm going to cry in a corner. Don’t forget to like, comment, reblog and show some support. Love you all 💚
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You pushed away from your desk, rolling your eyes as the girls from your team excitedly talked about Head Manager Jeong. They discussed that he is handsome, single, and looking.
It was like they were shopping for him. You were sure one of them was planning to try and snatch him up. You couldn't blame them, but it didn't matter anyway. They would never find out about your relationship with Yunho because no one knew. It was the reason why he wasn't your emergency contact or anything. You didn’t have pictures of him on your phone, and he didn’t have any of you either. You didn’t do couple-like things together like going to a restaurant or seeing a movie. It was always back and forth between each other's apartments.
Your attention was brought back to the present when one of your team members asked if you agreed with the sentiment that Yunho was attractive. You looked around the room, the women waiting for you to answer.
The truth was yes. He was beyond attractive but you couldn't exactly tell the other women that you've fucked him on every surface of both his and your apartment.
"Yeah. I mean he's cute, I guess," you answered before turning your attention back to your computer screen.
"Just cute? Have you seen his face?" One of the women asked.
"I mean I see him almost every day, so yeah. I have."
"That's right, you guys are friends, right?"
You were not going to call your relationship with Yunho a friendship. It was too complicated.
"I don't know, we have mutual friends. So I see him at group outings sometimes," you explained.
It was the truth, but not the full truth.
You saw him all the time, but not in the way these women were imagining. You saw him in the shower. On the couch. His bed. Your bed. You saw him without his clothes on, panting beneath you. Above you. You saw him in ways you were sure they could never imagine. So yes, you would call your relationship a friendship, just not the type these women were assuming.
You continued with the work on your computer, ignoring the chatter about the rest of the company's team leaders and managers. They were all young and handsome and single, so it made sense that you all had been a hot topic at work lately.
Yunho had become the new target now that some of the others had been spoken for. Hongjoong was already married, and you had heard that he was going to be a father. Yeosang had recently gotten into a relationship. San had a girlfriend for the past few months and Seonghwa had just announced his engagement to his longtime girlfriend.
It was the reason why all the women in your department were so focused on the remaining four single men in the company.
Yunho, Mingi, Wooyoung, and Jongho were the only ones who were still available.
But even then, the relationship you have with Yunho wasn't conventional.
No one knew that the two of you were together.
Not a soul.
The secret had been eating away at you.
It had been going on for months now and you were sick of it. You just wanted to be able to hold his hand or kiss him in public. To let the world know that the man is yours.
It was frustrating.
Yunho wasn't just some fling or casual boyfriend. You cared for him deeply and the idea that people would think of him as being available and on the market made you uneasy. He is yours and you are his.
"Team Leader?" One of the girls spoke up, "Are you listening?"
You nodded, "What were you saying?"
She laughed, "We were wondering how you would rate Manager Jeong. He's single, so it wouldn't hurt to let us know. We could put in a good word for you if you wanted."
Your eyebrows furrowed. You did not need the girls to put on a good word for you when he was already yours. The sex was great, his dick was great. Everything was just great.
"Uh," you were about to respond but you were cut off.
"Manager Jeong, you're here."
You looked up and watched Yunho enter the room, nodding his head in acknowledgment. "Ladies, can I borrow Team Leader Y/L/N for a second?"
"Of course. Take your time."
He smiled, before walking towards your desk.
"Is everything okay?" You asked as you got up and followed him into the hallway.
"Everything is fine. I just need you to come with me," he explained as he walked down the hall.
You were confused, but you continued to follow him anyway. Opening the door to his office, he gestured for you to go inside. He closed the door behind you, making sure it was locked before he pulled you close to him.
"Why did you want to see me?" You asked as his lips moved down to your neck.
"I heard the girls talking," he began. "They think I'm handsome."
"I never said you weren't," you responded, tilting your head so he had better access to your skin.
"What would you rate me? They were asking."
"I think you'd know the answer to that question," you smirked as he kissed along your collarbones.
"You're right. I already know." He pulled away, a small smile on his lips. His hands rested on your hips, pulling your body closer to his. "But it would be nice to hear it, wouldn't it?"
"Fine," you could feel his breath on your skin. "You are a 10. Satisfied?"
He chuckled, "It's a start."
You rolled your eyes before he leaned down and kissed you. His tongue slipped into your mouth, the feeling causing a fire in the pit of your stomach. His hands moved down from your waist to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. He lifted you up onto his desk, your legs wrapping around his waist. His lips traveled down your jaw to the sweet spot on your neck, sucking the skin into his mouth. Your hands moved up to his hair, tangling in his soft locks.
"Fuck," you breathed out as his lips moved further down your chest.
"Tell me how much of a 10 I am again," he teased as he nipped at the exposed skin.
"10. Fuck, a 100."
"Mmm," he hummed against your skin, "Good."
"Baby, we're at work."
He didn't care. He moved his hands up the skirt of your dress, grabbing a fistful of the fabric and yanking it up to your waist.
"Don't care," he said as he kissed down your neck and onto your chest. His hands moved to your bra, unclasping it with ease.
"Yunho," you whined. "Someone could walk in."
"I don't care," he repeated. He pulled your bra off, tossing it onto the ground. "Maybe it's time to show everyone that I'm yours and that you're mine. I think the rumors about me need to be addressed and quenched," he stated as his hands roamed across the expanse of skin.
"And how do we do that, Team Leader Jeong?" You looked up at him.
"Oh baby, it's very simple. It's called teamwork. Team Leader Y/N, would you please allow me the honor of helping you and me fuck in my office for the first time? You see, this is something that has been on the to-do list and we can finally cross this out. Not only is this to prove to everyone you're the love of my life, but it also shows everyone that I'm your man," he said softly against the column of your throat before kissing his way to your ear. "Also I want to see what face you'll make with your coworkers only meters away. What about that, Team Leader, will that please you?"
A soft moan escaped from your parted lips at the thought.
Yunho pressed his hips to yours. His clothed bulge was hard, hot, and ready for you, but he didn't give you that right away. Not yet.
His tongue dipped to the top of the neckline of your dress.
"Wait..."
"Please? Be a good girl and let me take care of you, I will take such good care of my pretty girl."
"Did you at least lock your office door? What if someone hears?"
"Already locked it, babe." He pulls your dress lower until your breasts pop free. "As far as your pretty noises, can you try to be good and keep yourself quiet, pretty? Or do you want me to stuff your panties in your mouth? Or do you want my fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet?"
"I'll be good. I'll be good."
Yunho smiles, happy. As much as he would love to hear your moans and screams, he's going to have to wait for that later. He's already excited at how your hair and clothes would look disheveled once you two are done with fucking like rabbits.
He drops a peck onto the crown of your head as he nudges your legs apart. His fingers crawl into the soaked panties, drawing lazy circles into the folds that make you gasp his name.
"Remember, stay quiet," Yunho whispered in a teasing tone. "Unless you really want the entire building to hear you."
You tried your best not to moan. It was a losing battle when his thumb teased your clit, circling it.
"Look, Team Leader, your team is in the area outside this door," he murmured in your ear. "They'll know for sure what we are doing here."
"Yunho." You mewled. "I don't care. I want everyone to know that you're mine. I don't want the rest to think that you're the perfect dream that they can chase," you whimpered.
"You know I only have my eyes on you." He takes your chin between his thumb and finger, raising it to lock eye contact. "You're the perfect dream of mine and I intend on spending every day making you happy. You're my pretty, my baby, mine."
The praise has you whimpering under his touch, pleading for more and more.
It doesn't take long for your slick to drench your panties and it's amazing how wet Yunho can get you within a matter of minutes. The cold air makes your exposed breasts ache but the thought of having sex with Yunho, in his office, is sending you into a heated state.
"My beautiful," Yunho whispers sweet compliments, leaning in to kiss your lips before he sinks into the valley of your chest.
His mouth feels wet and his lips are cold against your skin, nipping and lapping his tongue out for a taste. You clutch your fingers in Yunho's locks, pulling his hair softly in your grasp. The more your sensitive nipples are played, the hotter your body feels.
He's marking your flesh with his hands, tongue, lips, and teeth, claiming you. He sucks and laps his tongue against your nipples while his other hand draws circles with your swollen clit.
"You look so gorgeous," Yunho hums, "All these hickeys look so good." He pulls his hand from between your soaked lips, and he pushes a couple of his fingers into your mouth.
Your eyes lock. You both stare at each other with blown eyes. You taste and lick and moan for his fingers and he curls them around your mouth as a gesture, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip.
"Spread your legs for me, babe. Can you be a good girl and let my fingers make a mess of you?"
You nod. Your throat is tight, and it takes all of the willpower you possess not to rock your hips when Yunho pulls your underwear to the side.
Your heart hammers away when you catch the hungry look in your boyfriend's eyes. He dips a digit to the knuckle into you, his fingers cold to the heat between your thighs, and you bite his fingers to muffle your moans.
"Shh," he chides in a husky whisper. His middle finger sweeps along the slick of your walls and curls to rub against the spot inside that sends your back arching and fingers clawing onto Yunho. "If you're loud, I will have to take my hand away and who would take care of your poor pussy?"
You try your best to stay quiet despite Yunho adding more fingers. The fingers of his other hand was still in your mouth and his thumb was stroking the column of your throat. His gentle kisses pepper over the salty skin of your cheeks and chin and along your jaw.
"That's it, my sweet girl. You're so perfect. This pussy is just fucking perfection," he moans lowly and adoringly into the crook of your neck, "you're mine, yeah? Every last gorgeous part is mine to love."
His hand quickens and he drives his digits in further. His own erection was hardening to painful proportions in his pants. You're clamping hard on his hand, but Yunho manages to slip a fourth finger in and curls them perfectly against your spot.
Pleasure winds up at the base of your spine and belly. You moan around the fingers in your mouth, the fingers in your pussy, and you reach out blindly to grab at anything of Yunho.
"Suck my fingers, baby," he coaxes. He watches the saliva-soaked digits sink and vanish down your throat. He revels at the way you're taking his thick, long fingers. He has all his fingers shoved in your mouth, your pussy, and he loves the wet and hot feeling of you taking everything he gives you.
"That's my pretty baby, my good girl," his words are thick with fondness and desire. He can see you're losing your composure; Yunho presses a smile and kisses against the curve of your throat, "You're being so good for me. Cum, I have you, baby girl."
His hand in your mouth retreats to replace your lips with his own. You scream for Yunho into his mouth, the force of your orgasm hitting you like a bus.
Wet and sloppy sounds come from his digits fucking into your pulsing heat. You twitch, and then relax, going limp in his arm.
Yunho releases the suction of your lips. "Feel better?"
You swallow and nod. A flush heats up your neck and your face and a sweat beading against your neck and collar bones. "Your turn now?"
"Anything you want," Yunho removes his fingers from your hole with a soft, squishing sound and smirks at how your inner walls fluttered around his hand's absence. "But first, clean my fingers, baby. They're filthy from your cum."
You don't even protest and just put your boyfriend's cum covered digits past your lips to lap it up and suck the remnants. Yunho growls, not because his fingers are still sensitive to the suction, but because he loves the picture of you devouring the wetness of his hand.
"Good job," he praises and you mewl, knowing he loves to play and praise you in bed. "Good fucking job," he leans down for a filthy open-mouth kiss to swipe a lick into your mouth, to have a taste himself. "Now you can suck me off, babe. And then when we go home, you can ride the hell out of me. How's that?"
"Sounds perfect," you say as you lick your lips, sliding off the desk only to sink unto your knees, hands already working at the belt of his trousers and undoing the button and fly.
"So eager," he chuckled in a low tone, hand petting your hair and lightly taking a hold to angle your head upwards to look him in the eye. "Suck me off, baby. Suck it off nicely so I can come in your pretty mouth."
It takes only moments until your hand grabs around his hard cock and slowly jerks him off, his pre-cum slicking the tip. Then, Yunho is letting out a pleased and shuddery groan when he sees you lick his slit. The soft tip of your warm tongue slides against the heated length.
Your soft, pink lips look absolutely stunning on him. The way you close your eyes to really get the best feel as you bob up and down his length makes his balls tighten and his hips buckle for more. You moan on his dick and the vibrations drive him wild. You begin to focus on his slit again with soft presses, kissing and caressing before taking the full length into your hot and velvety mouth.
When the head hits the back of your throat and you feel your lips against the base, you manage to look up. The way he looks at you with loving, darkened eyes, you just want him to come so hard and messy inside your mouth.
Yunho calls you a good girl, how amazingly gorgeous you are for him and no one else, and the praise makes you ache to please him.
"Such a good job, you're such a sweet girl for me." Yunho coos as he brushes his hands against your cheek. "Ready for me? Fuck, ready baby?"
You feel him throb hard and warm cum shoots out onto your awaiting tongue, and Yunho grunts as he holds himself from slamming hard in your throat. You eagerly drink him and make soft noises as the taste coats your taste buds. You just wanted to savor his essence. He tastes fucking delicious.
"Should we just leave early today, baby?"
You let his dick go with a pop and wipe the excess wetness that had leaked out the corner of your mouth. "We have an appointment with our PR team later, remember?"
"Shit, really?"
"Yeah." You got up from the floor, pulling his head down for a small kiss. "But we can always finish at your place when we are done. You did say that I can ride the hell out of you."
"I did say that, didn't I?" Yunho chuckles.
Both of you straighten up your clothes and made yourself as presentable as you can. Yunho picks up your bra, which lays forgotten on his office floor and tucks it into the inside pocket of his blazer.
"Until tonight, babe," Yunho whispered into your ear as you leaned up to give him one last kiss before unlocking the door and slipping out of your boyfriend's office.
You return to your desk where your coworkers sit gossiping amongst each other.
"You were in there for a while, Team Leader."
"Did Manager Jeong yell at you? Did you get in trouble?"
"What happened there?" They asked.
"Just a lot of boring things, you know?" You lied as you sat down at your desk. "Just some marketing strategies and all that boring stuff you don't wanna hear about. Super uninteresting."
"Nothing exciting, then? Too bad."
"Definitely," you said, grabbing a pen. "Nothing exciting at all."
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A few days later, you're sitting at your desk again working late on some data analysis for next month's projected sales. Everyone has gone home for the night so Yunho sits on the corner of your desk.
"Let's go out for dinner. Are you almost done here?"
"Mhmm, a few more reports and then we can leave," you responded. You rolled back the sleeves of Yunho's white button-up shirt as you looked at the reports. It was a little big on you, the shirt hanging off a single shoulder. It seemed like no one knew that it was his.
"I can't believe you wore one of my shirts to the office, baby," Yunho smirked, the sight of his clothes hanging off your lithe frame making his dick hard.
"Whose fault is it that I don't have any of my clothes at your place?" You laughed, leaning up for a quick peck and tugging the ends of his hair gently. "Besides, I only wear the shirts that you don't wear to the office. The girls would die to know that I get to wear your shirts."
"Fair," He kissed you once again before getting up, fixing the collars of the shirt and kissing the top of your head, "Maybe we should just move in together, baby. After all, you do spend more time in my bed than yours."
"Maybe..." You looked over your computer and bit the top of a pen, thinking over the suggestion. "If you give me like seventy-five percent of your closet space. If not, I will need more than fifty percent of space."
He chuckles at your demands. "I think you can just take up all my closet space. So let's move in together, yeah? You and I. One place, all of our stuff."
Your face softened and he found himself falling a little bit harder for your cute expression. "Sounds wonderful. But I expect lots of quality cuddles from the very handsome Manager Jeong."
"Only from Manager Jeong? Not from your boyfriend named Yunho?" He lets out a little pout, one that has you swooning for this big man's charm. "But I'll give you all the cuddles. The highest quality cuddles that one could ever ask for, babe."
"I never realized that the serious, stern team manager was this big baby behind closed doors." You rolled your eyes and snorted a giggle.
"This big baby has a lot of feelings for you," he snickered and grabbed your face in between his two hands to pepper kisses across the soft expanse. "You're stuck with me," he mumbled, then kissed your forehead. "Can't get rid of me that easily. We've been together for a few years, babe."
"What a scary thought," you hummed.
"In all seriousness though, moving in together? Be my official roommate?"
"What a ridiculous man you are." You stuck your tongue out teasingly at him. "I'm all up for it. Yes, yes, a hundred times yes. I'll move in with you. You're stuck with me too, silly."
"Then it's settled." Yunho swooped in to kiss you. "Now finish that report so that we can finally get out of this godforsaken office and eat dinner."
"My hero." You replied, kissing him a few more times. You turned towards your screen once again, cracking a smile to yourself.
After finishing the last few minutes of work and packing up your items for the night, you left your desk.
The company parking was nearly empty except for a handful of people who stayed behind, leaving Yunho and you alone. Your car is parked by his.
"Got everything?" he asked and took your hand, playing with your fingers and rings absentmindedly while waiting for a response. "Are you sure you don't have a toothbrush or underwear or anything else you might be forgetting in there? I don't want any emergency midnight bathroom runs, baby girl."
"You'll buy it for me, Yunho. That's what boyfriends do. Now come on, I'm hungry, aren't you?" You tugged on his hand with a whine.
"You're a brat, babe. I have spoiled you too much, I see," He pressed a gentle peck on the crown of your forehead. "Let's drop your car off at your place and then grab dinner and spend the night at mine? No work, just us together in my bed. Yeah?"
"Hmm, how about dropping off my car, going to your place and ordering takeout, and watching movies in bed, snuggled up and warm under the sheets until we both fall asleep, because it sounds kind of like heaven and I've worked so, so hard today." You mumble with a sulk into his shoulder.
"You got yourself a plan, baby. A very nice plan, too. Let's do what my little darling wants for a change," Yunho, now leaning against your car, opened the door for you and you slipped in, a big smile growing across your face.
You clicked your seatbelt into place and started the car. You roll down the window when Yunho knocks on the glass, pressing a kiss onto your temple.
"I'll be right behind you the entire drive, okay?" He leaned in for a quick peck before fully withdrawing to his car.
"Make sure you do," you shouted, before rolling the window up and reversing out of the parking lot, heading towards your apartment to drop off your car.
From your wing mirror, you can see him pulling out too. The evening sunset catches the windscreen in a glare, but you see his figure behind the steering wheel.
He looks damn good. And all yours. You couldn't wait til you dropped off your car so that you can be in his, feel his long fingers on your thigh as he's driving.
And he does just that minutes later after dropping off your car and making the drive to his place. As the sun sets further in the sky, casting its reddish hues through the driver and passenger windows, Yunho has his free hand on your knee, stroking a soft, reassuring pattern into your skin and sometimes gripping or caressing gently.
And there you were, reclining back in your seat with a little smile, playing with his fingers and tracing random designs as he drove and occasionally holding the tips of his fingers to your lips and smiling shyly at him when the light would turn green again.
When the two of you step into the apartment building and walk towards the elevator, he presses his lips gently against your cheek. You sink into the touch as you both make your way up to his floor.
You slide his keys into his lock to unlock the door and open the entrance to his flat. Yunho sheds off his shoes and blazer, revealing his strong arms and neck in his perfectly fitting button-down and slacks.
You lean back into his chest and kiss the skin where the second to last button is left undone.
"Baby, if you keep doing that, there won't be any cuddles and takeout. I'll just end up fucking you the moment we get into the apartment," Yunho's voice rasped, and his hand curled around your neck.
"Cuddle first, fuck second. Got it," you giggled, tapping his arm for him to let you go so that you could wander his room and rummage into his drawer to grab a black t-shirt. He's so big compared to you, so his shirts practically drape over you and cover your butt and thighs. It feels like a dress and makes you want to prance around his flat and slip and slide on the wood floors and laze on his couch and his king-size bed.
With his shirt on and comfortable panties on, you made your way back to his living room and collapsed on the couch, exhaling with happiness as you smelled his musky and forest-scented laundry detergent that clung to his shirt. You threw your phone on his coffee table and grabbed the TV remote.
Yunho is in the kitchen getting the delivery menus to decide what kind of food to order for you. A few moments pass before he walks to the living room couch.
He sighs, taking the remote from you and muting the show that you had started.
"Hey, I was watching that," you complain, but your complaints turn to happy noises when his hands wander to hold and knead your hips.
"What do you want?" He hummed, dipping his face close to nip at the junction where your shoulder and neck met.
"Hmm?" Your brain had already started to become a little hazy from his attention. His tongue felt like heaven against your skin. You brought a hand up to twine into his hair and arched your back to rub up into his body.
"I asked what you wanted to eat, sweetheart," he chuckled. "What are you hungry for tonight?"
"Ummm, oh," you hummed. "Aren't you just delicious?" You said with a sassy wink.
"You're so cheesy," Yunho scoffed, his eyes softening when he looks at your face, lit up with an unreserved grin. He kissed your nose. "Want to order something spicy and pick a movie so we can snuggle and have you in my lap for the night, beautiful?"
"Yes please. You are always the best snuggler," you nodded. "Get out of your work clothes so we can snuggle to full capacity!"
"Alright, alright, I'm going!" Yunho laughed as he pulled away and disappeared into the other room. He changes, emerging minutes later in a black t-shirt and shorts. He plops on the sofa next to you and you reach out to curl into him.
"Which movie are we going to watch tonight?" Yunho asks as you wrapped your arm around his midsection.
"I wanna watch something scary."
"Of course you do. You love being a little scaredy-cat with my arms around you knowing that I don't get scared easily, huh? You can even play the cliché 'there is something outside' line just to cling onto me tighter," Yunho hummed as he scrolled through his streaming device to find a scary movie. "Scary movie it is."
You stick your tongue out and lay down with your head resting on his thighs. "Someday, I'll pick a horror movie that would scare the heck out of you. I'm going to team up with Wooyoung and Jongho to get you."
"In your dreams, beautiful," Yunho leaned over and flicked your forehead playfully. He settles back on the couch and drapes a blanket over your form before grabbing the remote and pressing play. "Enjoy the movie, cutie. Scream in terror for me." He chuckled.
"Fuck you, Jeong Yunho." You laughed as the title card flashes across the screen and the intro begins.
Halfway into the film, there is a jump scare and a scream from you makes Yunho roll his eyes. You're no longer resting on his lap, instead clutching at his abdomen and clinging to his toned body with the blanket tugged over your head.
You were shaking with fright, although you tried and failed to hide it.
"I told you it was a bad idea," he chuckles. Yunho holds out an arm and pulls you closer until you are tucked into him and his hold. You gasp and squeak each time the main characters react in fear as they are chased down, and even Yunho finds it funny how you squirm at every scare.
"Hate you," you squeak, slapping a hand on his chest. He mumbles that he is sorry and then kisses the top of your head, causing you to forget whatever had you in a momentary fit of irritation.
"Next time, pick a film less terrifying. Maybe one with action scenes and comedic undertones and pretty boys, hmm?" Yunho gives you a teasing smirk and then presses his nose into your hair. "Something to take our minds off of work. That sounds okay to you, princess?"
"Yeah." You sighed, squirming even deeper into his side. "Although, no promises that I won't cling to you more tightly."
He smiled into your hair and you settled down for the duration of the movie, hushed quietly and bundling yourself in the blankets you've wrapped around you.
Once the movie has finished, he sits you both up and stands with the phone. "Now, about that takeout. Do you still want it?" he asked. "I have the delivery service app pulled up. I can order if you like."
"Chicken," You blurted quickly. "Chicken and beer."
He laughs, swiping through his phone screen as he heads into the kitchen and flicks on the oven's dimmest light. You crawl down the sofa and lean to rest your chin on the countertop, admiring him as he leaned over his phone screen and flicked through, scrolling and selecting your favorites, tapping his fingers along the counter, before setting his phone aside.
He turned back around. His mouth widened into a smile at the sight of you looking up at him with a smile.
"How'd I get lucky to have you, baby girl?" Yunho smiled back.
"Duh, you asked," You teased with a roll of your eyes, sticking your tongue out. "Asking me out wasn't so scary, was it?"
"I thought you would've said no. Not that I was asking you out, of course, I was a bumbling fool at the start." He shrugged, ruffling his hair. "Too nervous around you, babe."
"So whipped, this guy," You mused, grinning so widely. "My big bad Yunho got so soft for me."
"Just for you," He blew a raspberry into his hand. "Just for the prettiest woman around."
"Did I mention that you're cheesy? That's right. It is also a full-time occupation and your one true calling, to make me cheesier than the most delicious, aged parmesan in all the lands and oceans."
He snorted in laughter. "You knew well enough that I was cheesy ever since college, baby. But in a good way."
"Your cheese will only keep on impressing and satisfying me. I can't live without your cheese, Yunho. You are a regular gold-star, straight A-cheese. The crème de la crème," You said.
"You're just as cheesy, baby. Even if you want to deny it," He booped your nose and you both laughed.
"Yunho?" You pouted.
"Yes?" Yunho perked up his brows at you and paused to look you directly.
"Can we finally tell everyone that we're together? I'm tired of just our friends knowing. And I'm tired of hearing all the girls talk about you. It's just getting annoying and tiresome, hearing them day and night and...they look at you," you babbled, mumbling, and not really finishing the last part of what was eating at you, as you looked down.
He envelopes you in a hug. "Why didn't you tell me you felt this way earlier, baby?" he whispered as you burrowed your head into his shoulders.
"Wasn't sure when or what the right time was to ask," you mumbled back into his chest.
"I have been waiting for your permission to tell all the people in the department to fuck off because you were mine," Yunho muttered as his hands rested on your lower back and he peppered butterfly kisses into your crown.
"So can I finally tell all the other girls to fuck off when they look at you? Can I finally walk around holding your hands and cuddling you in our lunch breaks? Can you hold me like this at the workplace and give me all of your sweet affections freely?" You murmured, tugging on his sleeve.
"Of course, baby." His answer made you look up at him and smile so brightly and it made his heart melt in the love and adoration he held for you. "Tell everyone you like that you have the sexiest and most handsome boyfriend in all the world. Because it's the absolute truth, darling."
"Love you, love you, love you. Thank you," you giddily hugged and squeezed him tight and he giggled a deep rumble as he rubbed up and down your back, his nose burying into your hair, inhaling deeply.
"I can't believe how whipped this man is," Yunho whispers affectionately. "Falling deeper and deeper in love with you, every day, baby."
"And does this man Yunho know how he will show his love?" You murmured with a cheeky smile, pressing a kiss at the base of his neck.
"How about I let this man make love to his girlfriend and he will show his love so deeply tonight?" His voice dropped as he grabbed your chin and tilted it to make eye contact. "Will that please and satisfy my baby girl?"
He didn’t give you a chance to reply. You moaned into his mouth, body pushing up to meet his touch. He huffs and presses kisses along your jaw. His mouth and tongue trails the smooth column of your neck.
He marked a hickey on the curve of your shoulder and his grip on your hips becomes slightly tighter. You heard him whisper your name between grunts, hands tangling into your hair and pulling at it slightly.
You smile and giggle at him with a smirk, cheeks slightly flushed as you trail your hand up to rest on his chest.
"Eat first, fuck later. You promised," You gave him a teasing smile as you shook your head and put your finger up to his lips.
The doorbell rings and the delivery man is here with your chicken dinner and Yunho lets out a string of curse words. "You're really evil, baby, making me wait." He mutters.
"I need to be fueled and filled first to satisfy my hungry baby and to give him all the pleasures and orgasms, yeah?" You coo.
He breathes. "Damn right you're gonna get filled," he promises darkly, "so don't complain if your legs give out tomorrow. It won't be my fault, baby. It won't."
"Hurry and get the food, Yunho." You whined, shoving him away.
Yunho quickly makes the trip to get the food, paying the delivery man extra and sending them on their way.
He returns back to the couch, sighing with frustration at you. "You know, you're gonna pay for that."
"Pay for what? I'm just hungry!" You smirk with a lilt of sass. "Aren't you? Feed me, please. Then you can have whatever you want after you feed your hungry girlfriend."
"What I want is already in front of me."
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You woke up in Yunho's arms the next day, your head on his chest and tucked securely under his chin. It was only Saturday, but somehow, it felt nice to wake up, knowing that there wasn't much to worry about at work. Just staying with Yunho at his apartment and getting comfortable together in the warmth of his covers is a win-win and well-needed for the weekend.
Yunho shifts, his arms circling your waist and tucking you deeper in, the covers nearly tucked over your head.
It's so warm and you sighed with happiness into his chest, a smile blooming on your lips, nose nuzzling into the crook where his neck and shoulder met.
He stretched, yawned, and groaned, a husky growl escaping his lips as he grabbed you by the waist and dragged you up so you're nose to nose with him.
He squints his eyes open and they brighten when they make contact with you. "G'morning, cutie pie," he rasps, his voice deep. "Sleep well last night?"
"Best sleep ever. Especially in the arms of the best cuddler ever in the universe."
"Anything you'd like to do today? Let's eat breakfast."
"You know what I want for breakfast?" You murmured, your hand reaching for his already semi-hard cock and pumping it slowly.
"Are you asking me to feed my hungry baby for a morning meal of protein, huh?" Yunho's lips curled, one brow raising and his eyes half-lidded, lust creeping into his expression.
"It's the best thing to ever wake up to and eat," you purr as your hand moves to the hem of his boxers and dip your hand inside, gripping him and feeling him in your palm as it twitched at your touches.
Yunho growled and pushed your hand onto his hard length.
"Gimme what I want. I'm hungry, baby. Please." Your voice is low and needy. He throws his head back and it was just such a sight seeing his Adam's Apple bobbed up and down.
"You and your 'morning snack,' princess. Of all things to be greedy with." Yunho grunts when you let go to pull at the waistband of his boxers, shoving them down and his erect member springs free, bouncing upwards.
"Just hurry up and feed me. Please, sir."
His gaze darkened.
"Call me sir again. I want you to." He smirks.
"Please, sir. Let me lick your thick meat popsicle," you muttered into his ear and he lets out a soft noise, chest rumbling with an amused sound of arousal.
"When have you gotten this lewd, baby?" he smirks and his large hand pulls you closer, his fingers flexing at the swell of your ass.
You kneel at the edge of the bed, eagerly taking his length in hand and leaning forwards to lick a line up the underside. Your tongue teases his slit before swirling around the tip, taking him fully into your mouth and bobbing your head. His large hand cups the side of your face and tugs gently on your hair.
He is lost in the sight. Your fingers curl around the base of his cock, and you work it in conjunction with your mouth to take in as much as you can. He twitches against the inside of your cheek.
"Fuck." You whimper when his hand tugs at your hair harder.
"More, beautiful. Let me hear you choke more around my dick. Love to hear your little noises." He chuckles darkly and you are keen.
Your throat is relaxed now, accustomed to the fullness, the thickness of his heavy cockhead sliding deep enough to bump the back. You gag, swallow, and take him further, hearing the strangled moan leave his throat, as his head drops back and his hands find their way into the back of your head. His hands tangle through your hair, twisting in it gently. He breathes a ragged sigh, and tugs your hair, thrusting into your mouth.
You sit there, blinking up at him with your doe eyes, your mouth full, so stretched and sore.
It is one thing to see his face in his daily life, where he is nothing more than a strict superior, handsome beyond words. Another thing entirely, you think, to have this incredible man fisted in the palm of your hand and shivering at the ministrations of your skilled mouth. He looks good like this, in disarray.
"Fuck, I need to be in you. Your mouth isn't enough, pretty girl." He mumbles.
He helps you up, giving you a soft look when you turn away with a flush on your face as you wipe saliva off of your face. He can't help tugging at his lips and chuckles, pressing a wet kiss into the column of your neck and holding you back into the nest of blankets, pinning your legs around his waist, and wrapping your arms around his neck.
His hands splayed across your backside, the other sliding between your bodies, stroking down your abdomen, leaving you a shivering mess in the way he pressed and touched every sensitive spot you had. Your legs tighten around him, your moans encouraging his touch to grow rougher.
"Fuck...hurry," you pant as you rut against him and he coaxes a moan out of your lips when his tongue twists around your nipples. He laps, sucks at one nub, then the next, switching from breast to breast until the pink buds stand perked. He grinned smugly up at you when you mewled helplessly into his neck. "Yunhoooo~" you pouted.
His hand was in between your bodies, thumb at your clit, index teasing your drenched lips, his other arm curved and pulling you even closer.
"Let me fuck you so deep," he murmurs, and slides the tip of his fingers along your slit. "I'll fill you, so, so deep," and he slips one finger inside, and you moan. "So very good, my sweet baby. So wet and needy," he sighs when he takes his digit away.
He stops, breath panting, staring deep into your eyes. He gives a brief, lazy smirk before the corners of his lips curve down into a soft, genuine smile. He leans to press a gentle kiss onto your forehead before whispering a husky 'I love you, babygirl."
"Love you, sweetheart," you exhaled and took in another sharp breath when he rolled his hips, grinding his thick cock along your folds, coating his length in the arousal of your pussy.
He positioned himself above you and he didn't even hesitate to slide his thick cock into your swollen lips.
"You're so fucking hot," he groaned, wrapping both of your legs around his waist, gripping your ass to lift you, burying himself deep inside you.
"Oh God." Your head slammed into the mattress and you panted, gazing up at him with furrowed brows and glazed eyes.
"Do you feel me, baby?"
"I—Yes..." you moaned, and Yunho grunted softly, thrusting into you. He pumped inside of you, kissing along the curve of your shoulder.
"F-fuck," you moaned out. "Fuck, fuck, oh, fuck, yes. Keep going,"
"So demanding," he growled. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against your collarbone, his warm tongue flicking out briefly to graze the soft skin.
You squirmed beneath him. The steady slapping sounds of wet skin echoed throughout the room. Your eyes fluttered shut at the sensation.
Yunho's cock pounded into you mercilessly. He groaned out, loud and deep in pleasure, one hand stroking the softness of your curves as he gazed at your naked form.
"You're fucking amazing," Yunho muttered against your skin. His eyes focused on you as he continued to push inside of your heat. "The best fucking view to wake up to."
The fire in your stomach tightened. Yunho could tell your legs were beginning to feel weak from being wrapped so tightly around him and he slid his free hand to your ass, pressing you deeper against his body.
You wrapped your arms around him and grasped at the smooth, toned planes of his back. You bucked wildly as he brought your body flush with his, his cock reaching as deep as it could go.
"God, just fucking cum inside me. Mark me. Fill me up." You whispered, staring at him, into the depths of his chocolate brown eyes.
Your body was slick with sweat, you were becoming more and more lost in a trance. You loved him and that was all you cared about, right at that moment.
"Baby." Yunho gripped your thighs roughly, leaning forward so his lips ghosted across yours as he breathed. "Gonna cum."
You took his lower lip into your mouth. You nibbled lightly, kissing and tugging at it while you moaned.
Your heart was swelling from the amount of affection flowing through your veins. You released his lip, staring deep into his eyes. "Me too. So close," you panted.
"I'm—fuck! Baby, I'm so close." He whimpered out and squeezed his eyes shut.
"J-just fuck me deeper, deeper." Your legs shook against the curve of his waist. He nodded and smashed his lips against yours, muffling your loud scream with his mouth.
"Agh, baby, I'm cumming," Yunho huffed in his final few thrusts. His hot seed spurted inside of your womb. His deep and low groans joined your breathless whimpers and squeals.
When Yunho pulled his soft cock out, a heavy stream of white spills out of your cunt. Your whole body tenses with pleasure, a heavy wave of orgasm washed over and sent you shaking as you whimpered out.
Yunho groaned and pulled your into a tight embrace, tangling the sheets and blanket messily around you as he clung onto your body to keep you warm.
"Baby," He mumbled softly, planting soft kisses all over your cheek as his fingers slid gently into your hair, and traced little circles on your scalp, making you giggle a little.
"Did you feel satisfied now, love?"
"Mmm yes," you smirked happily and returned his kiss with another little kiss on his nose.
Yunho pulled the sheet up and around you both, laying on his side and pulling you towards him as he pulled the covers and pillows towards him, you both got comfortable and cuddled in each other's embrace, no sounds save the sound of you both breathing and inhaling in your lover's scent and enjoying your little pillow talks and whispering to one another.
You spent the rest of the weekend with Yunho as you discussed and looked at places to move together to a bigger apartment where you both could build and start the new phase of your life together as boyfriend and girlfriend.
"You and I, love. Us against the world. Can't wait for the future to unfold." Yunho grins happily, taking your left hand and placing a tender kiss at the base of your fourth finger, hinting subtly to an unspoken promise he intends for the near future.
"Me too, baby. I want this future. Our future." You gushed, pulling Yunho's face to give him a loving and long kiss.
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The weekend has gone and a new work week begins. Yunho pulls up into the parking lot with you, holding your hand as you both walk into the building together.
Every girl in the office gaped. You and him, in matching clothing and dressed sharp for work, striding hand-in-hand, greeted them with a cheerful smile and hello. Yunho had an arm wrapped around your waist, guiding you towards the reception, towards your department.
The two of you pressed the buttons of the elevator at the same time. It dinged, sliding open to allow you to board and ride up.
One by one, the ladies in your office filed in behind. It was so crowded now that some were forced to wait until the next round.
Then your group stopped at the floor that the Marketing Department was at. Your desk was further down, closer to Yunho's office and that was the best part of your day- being so close to him.
Everyone went to sit down at their respective desks, booting up their PCs and sorting files that were due at the end of the day.
And of course, this meant that there wasn't a moment to breathe once everyone realized that you had come into the building holding Yunho's hand, walking with him.
As soon as you parted from Yunho and sat at your desk, the girls from your team crowded your personal workspace with a giddy gasp.
"Team Leader! How did this happen?!" One girl squealed.
"Are you and Manager Jeong...?" Another began, before raising an expectant eyebrow.
"So? Tell us, please!" They chirped in a group.
"Manager Jeong and I..."
Just then, Yunho approaches your desk, his hand resting on your shoulder. He leans in, brushing a small kiss on your cheek. "Let's get lunch later, okay baby?" He spoke so tenderly that your heart fluttered and butterflies swarmed your belly.
You blush and nod shyly as his eyes and smile meet yours, watching as the others in the department can't contain their excitement and awe.
The way he talked to you, how he looked at you, his genuine sweetness and smiles he showed you...you knew that your days would get even better with him. And this wasn't going to end, no.
Yunho was the love of your life and he was very determined to keep it that way.
No, nothing was going to separate what you two had and the fact you and Yunho were boyfriend and girlfriend was not a secret anymore and neither would anything change- you'd be there for him and he'd always be there for you.
582 notes · View notes
tinytennisskirt · 1 month
Text
Sweetheart
girl dad!patrick x babysitter!reader
summary: the growth of a mutual ‘crush’ between babysitter!reaser and the father of the little girl she babysits. problem is, he’s about fifteen years older than her and they get along a little too well. he has to remember fucking a twenty-year-old is wrong, no matter how much he might want to. no matter what other feelings might be involved… he just knows what he wants and it’s hard to ignore it when she feels the same way.
warnings: unedited from the notes app and i accidentally switched tenses so ignore that!!! and SMUT. tension. flirting. age gap, obvi! sex. sex. sex. rough.
babysitting for DILF! Patrick, his house is a little cluttered and messy but it’s his. He’s fixing his screen door when you come by, he’s got a nail clenched between his teeth, he’s not worried.
he thought you’d be younger, sixteen, maybe, but you’re twenty and a half, he deducts from asking about your birthday. he still thinks you’re gorgeous before he does the math, he’s a bit of a dirtbag that way…
tells you all about his daughter and what she likes to watch, what she likes to eat, says you can order pizza if you want and as long as she’s asleep by midnight, he’s happy. he’s more carefree than other parents you babysit for. you find your eyes resting on the muscle of his upper arm as he shows you around the house just so you can find your way. part of his introduction is just flirting, his face getting a little close to yours with that smirk of his.
you’re standing your ground and he likes that. he’s only half-aware of his intentions. asks again what your hourly rate is and when you tell him, he tacks four dollars onto it. you’re saying thank you, but he says he’ll be back by 1:30 and he’s out the door.
his daughter, dark curls and freckles is standing on the steps. she’s a happy girl, she’s polite and she’s smart, like- gifted smart. she’s silly and has hobbies of building cubes out of paper. she teaches you how and soon you’re in a pile of paper cubes.
she’s in bed by ten just because you asked her to be and she’s not fussy at all, just silly when she brushes her teeth. she has a good sense of humour and makes good references. as you tuck her into her pretty pink room with lots of books, she tells you she has ice cream in the freezer and that you’re welcome to it because she only pretends to like the flavour her dad buys her- eating it would help her out. she’s only six but her brain is amazing. you hope you see her again.
she goes to sleep and you turn off her lamp and slip out of her room. the hallway is dimly lit and you find yourself looking at the pictures on the wall. patrick was or is a tennis player, there are trophies on top of cabinets and old player photos. old player IDs and he was… hot. not that he wasn’t now, he was, but he was your age in these photos no doubt… came naturally to find him attractive. you continue down the hall and his daughter starts appearing in photos and he looks a little older but you’re noticing that there’s not a single photo of her mother.
it’s just them, you deduct. she’s not in any picture so she must not be in the
picture. you get the small tub of ice cream from the freezer and eat it on the couch, finding a show you’re fond of and watching it, finishing the small bit left, twirling the spoon around in your mouth.
you get up and look around the house a bit more. observing the clutter of books where his daughter sits on the couch, walking to where there’s a bit of sports equipment, tennis rackets, a few looking a bit… broken. smashed. you wondered if he broke them himself. your fingers traced over the pictures on the kitchen wall. he looks good without facial hair, you note, but you prefer him with. he looks like a great dad, the various photos of him and his daughter in various places, the beach, outside of a restaurant, pictures of her holding up his trophy while sitting on his shoulders. a duo for sure.
you wash your dishes in the sink and decide to maybe tidy up a bit, cleaning a few other things. you wipe down the counters and make the clutter into piles. you busy yourself until you hear the key in the lock. you’ve made the living room neat and tidy and you don’t know what to do when he comes in and he looks over everything. you just stand in the centre of the living room.
“she was really good,” you say, hand on your stomach. “she really likes broccoli, which i didn’t expect, but she showed me how to make paper cubes and she was in bed around ten, so i cleaned a little bit.”
he looked a little rustled, his shirt a little more wrinkled and his curls a little more all over. you assumed he’d had a good night out. he looked good, though. lucky woman, you were thinking. “yeah, i see.” he chuckled, setting his jacket down on the back of the couch.
you’re young and you’re shy and he can tell you’re nervous, “it’s okay? you don’t mind, i hope you don’t mind.”
“i don’t mind,” he grinned, pulling out his wallet, “it looks good, i never would have done it.” he steps closer, close to you, just in front of you, looking down at you. you’re under his gaze and he keeps eye contact with you as he pulls out his wallet and you’re a little taken aback by how intense it is. “i owe you how much?”
you state your old rate and he just grins, dimples on his face. the ones you only saw in his photos with his daughter. he smells like cigarettes and cologne. something about the way he looks at you makes you feel a little weak. your eyes fall on his hand as he flicks through bills, handing you about $60 more than you were owed. his bonus and a second bonus for the cleaning. “you don’t have to… i usually tidy up where i babysit.”
“well, i didn’t ask you to, nor did i expect it.” he says, grinning down at you. it’s smug and he smells good and he’s looking at you like you’re a meal and you kind of like it but he’s… an older guy. he has a daughter and she’s asleep and he’s tall and you are staring. he’s hot. he’s really hot and he’s looking back at you, “thank you. i’ll probably need you again in a week, are you free?”
you blink, “i’m free.” you tell him. “thank you… again. i really should be going.”
“do you need a ride home? she’s okay to be alone for a few minutes.” he’s still close, he’s still standing over you.
“thank you, but i’m okay. i just walked over, i listen to music there and back.”
“you’re sure? it’s late.” his grin is all consuming. you’re sure it’s stealing your thoughts as you continue to blank.
“i’m sure. thank you again. for everything.” you step past him and he turns with you as you go and slip on your shoes.
“thank you,” he says, shoving his wallet back into his pocket. “have a good night, alright?”
“i’ll try. goodnight mr. zweig,” you smile as you pull open the front door.
“patrick.”
“hm?”
“call me patrick.” he repeats, nodding.
“goodnight, patrick.” your smile grows into a grin and you slip out the door. he hates how he feels about you. you’re cute, he notes, but you had something about you. something he observed when he was handing you your pay that told you there was something more to you. more than nervousness and doe eyes and mid-length skirts. maybe not. but you’d be back here next week.
he heard how much his daughter liked you the next day. she rambled on and on about how pretty you were and how sweet and nice you were, how good your food was. patrick found it good to hear, the other babysitters often couldn’t handle her, but you seemed to with ease.
the next babysitting gig you were wearing a baby tee. a short sleeved, almost cropped t-shirt and jeans and you greeted him as mr.zweig again and this time he didn’t correct you. he told you to help yourself to anything in the fridge and that he’d be back around 1:00 this time. your bright eyes lingered on his hands, his forearms as he spoke, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. you couldn’t help it, he was gorgeous. and tall. he was very tall and very strong looking and maybe, just maybe it couldn’t hurt to have a small crush on him. only natural right?
he wasn’t oblivious. he saw the way you nodded when he was speaking. the way you fidgeted with the ring around your pinkie finger. you were gorgeous and you were sweet but you were young. too young. and he was going out on a date with a woman who was in fact, age appropriate. he wasn’t opposed to watching the way your hips moved or the way your ass looked when you went upstairs to find his daughter, but he was opposed to doing anything about it. you were a good treat. that was about all he could let himself think.
you had a good time with his daughter and once again put her to bed just a little earlier. 9:30. she didn’t mind, you did so much with her that she was right out. you swept, did some dishes, nothing too noticeable. you’re sprawled out on his couch when he gets back, you don’t even hear him come in. he nods, watching you watch tv for a minute before he makes himself known. he doesn’t want to startle you, so he jiggles the doorknob and pretends to shut the door so you wouldn’t know he’d been watching for a moment. you turn your head and sit up. “no rush,” patrick says with a smile. “how was she?”
“excellent.” you reply, sliding your hands down your thighs and onto your knees. “she’s amazing, i’ve never met any little girl so well-behaved and so smart. she’s very well-rounded. you did a great job.”
you almost made a grown man bashful. he smiled, looked at the wall, “she doesn’t get any of it from me. it’s all her mom.”
“oh… how long has it just been the two of you? i assumed… from the pictures.”
“her mom left a year in,” patrick replied.
“so it is from you.” you answered. “must be, who else?”
“must be.” he said, a bigger smile creeping up his face. “so you come over, watch a kid and flatter the parents, hm?”
“yes but only when i feel like it.”
“does it work?”
“with you, yes.” you were more bold, he noted. last time he’d made you nervous but he was standing just far enough away where you could hold your own. he wondered, stepping closer, if he could change that. he did the same thing as last time and stood over you while he went though his wallet for his money.
he hands the money to you, “that’s enough?”
you look at him with those wide eyes again, “mhm. yes. more than. thank you.” he was right, all it took was the close proximity to make you nervous. “you know i wasn’t trying to flatter you?”
“i’d prefer you pretend you were so i can pretend to hate it.” he chuckled, “thank you.”
“for?”
“she really likes you. you’re good with her. i’ll need you again in two days, are you free?” he smiles down at you. his eyes linger on your lips, slightly open. he found himself thinking impure things as he stared. he wouldn’t stop himself. there was no reason to stop himself. what a treat you were to have around, he reminds himself. such a pretty thing.
you smile at his ask, “i can be. i’ll text?”
“sounds good.” he nods. “need a ride home?”
“i’ll be okay.” you nodback. “thank you though.” you pick up your sweater and get your shoes on. you’re sweet, patrick wonders why you’re so okay with walking. it would cut the time to get home in more than half. aside from time alone with you, he does have a daughter and he would like it if you got home safe. “goodnight, mr. zweig.”
“patrick,” he corrects you again with that gorgeous, sly grin of his “please.”
“patrick.” you say, locking it in. but it feels wrong. too personal. “goodnight.”
“goodnight, Y/N.” he answers. your name on his tongue feels so strange to hear. you’re pressing your back to the door. god, he’s fucking hot. the other parents you’ve babysat for are very much so married and both balding, the boys your age weren’t so charming. this might be a problem, you developing a small crush… earlier it seemed fine, but faced with him. dear god.
you were back there a few days later and was patrick mistaken or was your short a little shorter? a tank top, completely reasonable for the heat, but it hit just above your belly button, just under if you weren’t moving. it’s not like it was inappropriate, if anything what was a babysitter if not hot? patrick remembered his babysitters from back when he was a kid and yeah, they were always hot and older and just out of reach. you fit the genre today expect not the older part. you were younger- much younger. at least your skirt was mid-length.
he looked at you, “you know my rules. that i really don’t have any and i’ll be back at 1:00, 1:30 latest.”
“leaving some room for a kiss goodbye,” you said under your breath. he caught that.
“something like that,” he smiled. if he didn’t know better, it was a pass at him for going out with women. it made him grin, in fact. it had some affect on you and you’d only seen him how many times?
you wouldn’t do anything, you knew that, but he seemed to look better and better every time you saw him. at first it was black polo t-shirts and jeans and he’d moved to long sleeved shirts with the sleeves rolled up and he smelled so fucking good, it was hard to ignore. you looked another way at his response, knowing he’d heard you, but what did it matter. could have meant anything… he could fire you if he thought you were bitter or judgemental.
his daughter was so excited to see you, she practically leapt into your arms. she was a thin girl, short in stature, it was no big deal. the perfect saved by the bell moment. “y/n!” she exlaimed. she was so happy to see you, it made patrick chuckle a little. you held her to your hip and something in him shifted just a little, seeing her resting in the crook of your hip like that. it flashed through him like a blast of heat and then it was gone. “you have to come see what i made today. a big cube!” she was so excited.
patrick shook off whatever the hell he just felt, snapping back to reality. “alright, honey, i’m heading out.” he told his daughter. he advanced a step to ruffle her braided hair. you wondered if he braided it himself… the thought was interrupted by his hand sliding over your waist just for a split second, enough for the leverage to kiss his daughter on the forehead. before you could think, his hand was gone and he stepped toward the door, grin on his face. “have fun. if you end up eating the ice cream, save me the last few bites.”
“okay!” she called to her father as he opened both doors, waving enthusiastically at her as he shut them behind himself. the second he was gone, she turned to you, “you’re eating it, not me.”
“deal,” you nodded at her. and you went upstairs to go see her big paper cube. You had her in bed at 9:30 again. you went to lay on the couch, kicking your feet up, your eyes settling on the picture of patrick on the wall. he was a good looking guy at your age. freshly shaved, not exactly baby-faced but compared to now, entirely baby-faced. you wondered what his type was, his daughter was such a little copy of him. she was a pretty little girl, long eyelashes and pigmented lips. her nose wasn’t exactly a button nose, but it was only a little bigger and it was perfectly proportionate.
you got up, looking at the pictures on the walls again. him, clean shaven, holding his daughter as a baby, big smile on his face. you smiled just a little at it. and the one of him holding her up in the air like she was simba from the lion king. she said her father helped her with the big cube… he was a good father. and she was lucky to have him.
you went and you got the tiny ice cream tub from the kitchen along with a spoon and you followed the pictures down the hall again. the pictures turned more to tennis memorabilia as you got closer to the end of the hall, where his room was. you found it really admirable that he never brought a woman back to the house. you stared at the door, just a little curious, but you weren’t that kind of person, so you continued to eat the ice cream and sat down on the couch again, snooping through his DVDs instead.
you left him about a cup and a half serving in the tub and watched pineapple express and thirty minutes or less and he came home at 1:05am. you turned, eyes meeting his before any words were spoken. he smiled just a little, “how was she?”
“perfect. you’re raising an angel, did you know that?”
“news to me,” he said, dropping his wallet and keys on the table by the door, adjusting his belt just a little. your eyes lingered on his hands. “here i thought i just had a daughter.”
“well, your daughter is an angel. she showed me her big paper cube, she’s very proud but she made sure you got your credit.” you said, moving your feet to the floor.
“i just held it together while she taped, she’s very authoritative when she needs to be.” he headed more into the house and you rose to your feet. “but she’s good with you. she likes you a lot, she doesn’t let me go a day without hearing about something you said or something you like.“
“ooh, and what do i like?” you said, moving around the couch to meet him on the other side. his hand was in his pocket, he grinned a little, that dimple on his face on full display.
“she says iced tea and chinchillas.”
“ooh, i do like those things.” you smiled a little. “she knows me.”
you were so peppy, he wasn’t one to want to get rid of that, but he was looking forward to his favourite part of the nights with you. he stepped forward, the same fashion as always, close to you. grabbed his wallet again, went through his bills. pretended not to notice the way you instinctively pushed your hair behind your ears. you were met with the scent of his cologne again. “she really does like you, you know. do you watch kids during the day? i have something to attend to on wednesday and i need you friday night. you’re free then?”
“i think so.” you nodded. “and i do watch kids during the day, i would love to come by and watch her, how long were you thinking?” your sentences lost their pep and spice at his closeness.
“i’ll let you know,” he nodded, handing you the money and meeting your eyes, sly grin on his face still. you were so pretty, all doe-eyed. “i paid you until 1:30, by the way,” he said, watching you eye the money in your hands. “to spare the thirty minutes kissing goodbye before i came home.”
you pressed your hand to your head, “i am sorry i said that, it’s not my place.” you were more apologetic than you’d been when he was several feet away the first time you thought it him.
he just grinned, knowing he made you feel bad for something he didn’t take to heart. “you were right. no shame in it.” he said. “how are you getting home?”
you uncovered your face, “bus today.”
“you know who rides the bus at 1 am?”
“me?”
“not tonight.” he said. “i’ll drive you.” he didn’t even ask this time. “c’mon.” he tossed his keys up and snatched them out of the air and it was hot. he was too hot. too hot to be in a car with for the ten minute drive.
you swallowed hard, grabbing your jacket and slipping out the front door, patrick locking it behind him. he had a camera outside his door, she’d only be alone asleep a little while. “you don’t have to drive me home, mr. zweig,” you spoke up once you were more than a few feet away. “i usually make it just fine on my own.”
“i’d feel better seeing you get home safely.” he said, opening the passenger door for you. you hadn’t thought him the type to. “you live with your parents?”
“no,” you said, getting in. his car was a little messy but it was mostly papers and an empty cigarette carton or two. you moved them to the back seat. “i have an apartment off aberdeen street.”
“mmm, yeah i know where that is.” he nodded, starting the car. “just want to see to it you get home alright. i haven’t been the best with it, but you’re the best babysitter we’ve met and i can’t have you going missing or see you in the obits.”
“morbid,” you noted, smiling. “i’m that good? is that your thing, babysitter comes over, watches your kid, and then you flatter the baby sitter?”
patrick grinned wide as he reversed, which was hot, his arm on the back of his seat as he did. “yeah, but only when i feel like it.” he rebutted. you smiled.
“and does it work?”
“you tell me,” he answered, your heart skipped a beat. he was probably the hottest man you’d ever seen in your life and you had to come to terms with that. you swallowed hard. he was good with callbacks.
you couldn’t even answer his question. you had to straighten out, recalibrate. he understood your silence. maybe he’d overstepped with that last one. “does she like tennis?” you asked him.
his smile got humble, “i tried. she’s not a sports girl.”
“that’s fair. neither am i.” you nodded. “tried, couldn’t.”
“also fair.” he chuckled. “so what kind of girl were you?”
“were or am?” you asked. he hated that he wanted to know so badly… he hated wanting to know anything about you, but he wanted everything. the image of his daughter resting on your hip flashed in his mind again. “i think more… writing. reading”
“anything good?”
the conversation continued, going over books and ones he skipped reading in highschool. that and tennis, his career. you were impressed. and he pulled into the lot of your building, putting the car in park.
“thank you for the ride,” you said, just a little desperate to get away from him. all the closeness and the conversation god he was so fucking hot. the car smelled like him and the cigarettes and you were just a little bit dazed.
he chuckled, watching you undo your seatbelt, his eyes on the exposed skin of your waist. “i’ll see you wednesday?”
“i still need a time,” you nodded, “but i’ll stay flexible.” you said, opening the car door. you could smirk when he wasn’t so close to you. he smiled back. “see you then. thank you again for the ride home.”
“you’re welcome, sweetheart,” he grinned. and he was evil. he knew it. he watched your expression struggle to stay the same, those pretty eyes wide. you smiled a little nervously, shutting the door and fully reacting once he couldn’t see you. you tried to compose yourself, but your body felt like it had burst into flames. you waved, going into your building as fast as you could. the entire ride up the elevator, you were thinking about it. replaying it, repeating his sentence in your own voice just completely thrown. it was a lot. sweetheart.
fuck. you took a cold shower but it wasn’t enough to keep your hand from diving between your legs. back arched, sweetheart echoing around your head. imagining those hands of his on your throat, wide, strong. he probably tasted like cigarettes and god, the thought of it was more than enough. it was only the first time of a few that night that you did the same thing.
the next morning you woke up feeling just a little confused, but he was the first thought in your head. and what was two more times before breakfast?
you got up eventually, grabbing your phone off the counter where you’d left in such a haste last night. you looked over the new messages in your phone,
was thinking 3-7, that work for you?
with freshly washed hands, you typed back
sounds good.
so casual. and you got there at 2:55pm on wednesday. patrick was dressed for tennis, leaving with his rackets. “you still play.” you said, looking at his things. “game day?”
he let you in, smiling, “practice. hi.” he noted your skort and tank top. more skin. “have you had lunch?”
“no, actually, i was just going to wait until dinner-“
“there’s hot dogs on the stove,” he said. “help yourself.” he seemed like he was in a rush, grabbing his water bottle. “and iced tea in the fridge. yours.” he said, grabbing his keys. he stopped in front of you, close to you, smile on his face. it clouded your thoughts a moment. “see you at seven.”
“see you,” you replied warily, blinking hard. he looked you up and down before leaving. you slowly made your way up the steps. it was a good thing his daughter was so happy to see you, you would have read into that.
she talked to you all about her drawings, showing you one of yourself. she was so sweet. she talked to you all about her drawing of her dad, her tennis rackets oddly detailed in crayon. you spent the afternoon together, you helped yourself to one of the cans of iced tea in the fridge.
patrick was back by four, just a little sweaty. you hated that. after last night’s sex imagery, seeing him all sweaty was a horny girl’s nightmare.
“dad!” his daughter greeted him by jumping up on him. he dropped his bag to pick her up. “me and y/n made hot dog people. come eat, come eat.” she said. you pressed your lips together to stop from smiling when patrick shot you a semi-confused look. he carried her into the kitchen, you grabbing your purse, getting ready to go. you had just finished making dinner, which you didn’t have to do, turning the hot dogs from lunch into a topping for the macaroni and cheese you’d made. that and broccoli. simple, something little miss picky eater would have.
“wow,” patrick nodded, looking at the hot dogs that had been cut strategically in person. he looked at you, sitting in the chair at the table with her on his knee. “you did all this?”
“all this?” you chuckled, “of course not, i had help.”
“i stirred,” his daughter nodded.
“very good.” patrick nodded. “think you’re going to be a chef?”
“maybe,” she said, a little sing-songy. “i’m
good at stirring.”
“she’s so good at stirring,” you nodded. patrick chuckled, eyes set on you. “i’ll get going.” you said, checking your purse for your phone. “you guys enjoy. i’ll be back tomorrow, so no need to pay me.”
“n- why don’t you stay for dinner? i didn’t hire you to make us food and run.”
“please!” his daughter leapt off his lap and pulled you to the chair. “eat!”
you smiled, “thank you. i really can’t though, i have to run! i’m so sorry, baby.” you crouched down to her height. she pouted. “if i didn’t have to go meet my mom, i’d be here eating our food, i promise.”
“your mom?”
“my mom came to visit me today, she’s at my apartment waiting. i’m so sorry, baby.” you said, wrapping your arms around her. patrick watched the way her arms wrapped around you too. she really, really liked you. “i’ll see you tomorrow night though. i’ll be here early, we can make dinner again and everything. whatever you want.”
“can we make pizza?”
“it’s a friday night, why not?” you smiled. it was cute. “i’ll bring the ingredients tomorrow.”
“yay!”
“yay is right.” you kissed her cheek and cupped her face just a little before standing up again. “you enjoy your hot dog people.” you said. you looked at patrick, who hadn’t seen you in action with his daughter yet. he was a little bit in awe. she loved you. it was more than a like. the other babysitters were tantrum material but you were an angel just the same as his daughter. he hated how he was thinking about you after something so pure, thinking about you. eyes lingering on your thighs, your waist. thinking about you, something so fucking paternal in him wanting you. it was dark. “i’ll see you both tomorrow.” you said, giving him a little look. it was cheeky. like you knew something.
“thank you,” patrick nodded.
you nodded back, waving bye to his daughter before slipping out the door. patrick would be lying if he didn’t give into himself that night. his hand pressed to the shower wall, hand pumping as the water poured over his body. he hated himself for it, but it was your image that pushed him over the edge. his daughter fast asleep, his thoughts were disgusting. he felt disgusting, it’s why he chose the shower. you were too young. and well he was a bit of a dirtbag, the age gap was enough to even throw himself off.
you, your little shirts and little skirts, the way you looked in jeans, the pout to your lips, your eyelashes, your eyes that screamed innocence when he got too close. fuck, it was dirty the way he thought about you. he thought about fucking you on that couch you were always on. the extent to which his mind went was so fucking wrong, so wrong, he reminded himself. he went to bed guilty. a grown man turned guilty.
patrick was glad he had a date the next night. someone to fuck his age to get you out of his head. he was never more glad for a sad date. his eyes fixated on you. “gonna let me in?” you smiled. he realized he was just standing in the doorway after you knocked. a near-bashful grin spread up his face, turning sly. “you know, you’re paying me by the hour and it’s 5 right now. you’re paying me to stand outside your door.”
he smirked, moving out of the way to let you in. he smelled good, date night cologne. you almost rolled your eyes. “i pay you enough for it, don’t i?”
you giggled a little, “true! i’ll go back out there if you want.”
he chuckled, fixing the cuffs of his sleeves. “i wouldn’t hate to see it. if you didn’t make a promise for pizza to little miss upstairs. all she’s talked about.”
“oh i love that, i’m so excited,” you said, putting the bag of ingredients on the table. “i was thinking of making you one too, are you a fan of pepperoni?”
“big fan,” he nodded. “olives too.” he looked into the bag of ingredients, pulling them out.
“you don’t have somewhere to be?” you asked, coming to help pull things out of the bag with him. “hot date?”
“something like that,” he answered a little monotone. “i’ll be back at one.” he nodded, backing away. you nodded back, following him to the door. god, he needed to leave for his date before your eyes got to him. your hand trailed the back of the couch, walking with him. “that’s okay?”
“you’re asking me?”
“you look like you’re about to tell me my curfew,” he replied, grabbing his wallet and keys.
you smirked just a little. your mind wandered down to his hands, the hand that had your waist just days before. your eyes met his, “oh yeah. come home when the streetlights come on?” you joked, that gorgeous smile his main focus.
he grinned, “i’ll try,” you were so cheeky, god he wanted to fuck that grin off your face, he had better be gone before he did. “have fun with the pizza, help yourself to the drinks in the fridge. she’s in the backyard.” he held his keys a little too tight in his hand.
your smirk stayed. he’d never been more glad to be going out as he drove over with your voice in his head. he ordered a drink as soon as he could.
your pizza night went well. it was good, delicious, even. she was a good little helper, obsessed with getting everything perfect on her dad’s pizza. you smiled. she slept early again, tired from all the pizza and karaoke and dancing. you were a little bit tired too. you hopped on that couch and you were out like a light.
you woke to patrick’s hand gently on your shoulder. you blinked a few times, rubbing your eyes. “oh my god, i fell asleep.”
“you’re okay,” he chuckled. “it’s a good couch for it.”
“great for it, apparently.” you nodded, sitting up. “i’m so sorry, that’s so irresponsible of me.”
“it’s late, it’s understandable.” he replied. “i’ll drive you home.”
you tilted your head, with a smile, “kicked out so fast. i’m so sorry for falling asleep on your couch, if i’d known it would ruin the way you see me, i would have never even sat on it.”
he chuckled, “okay, c’mon. i’m not kicking you out, i’m getting you home in one piece.”
“i appreciate it,” you smiled genuinely. “but i’ll be okay.”
“you were asleep about two minutes ago,” he said. “you’re not going home alone.”
you really couldn’t handle another ten minutes alone with him in his car. your hand was still cramping from the other day. he gestured the way of his car. “you had fun?”
“so much,” you told him. “she insisted on making your pizza ‘happy’ which took her about thirty minutes because the smile didn’t look right. your pizza is resting on the stove. she devoured hers and probably half a bag of mozzarella cheese.”
“she loves cheese,” he chuckled. “i’ll need you again tomorrow, is that okay?”
“tomorrow night?” you asked. you stepped closer to him, a twist of fate he didn’t expect as he grabbed his wallet. it was that time of night, but it was you who moved forward on him.
“tomorrow night,” he said. you fought the urge to ask if it was the same woman. it wasn’t your place to ask. he looked at you, the way you were looking up at him, so fucking perfect and so fucking… he felt his pants tighten at his growing erection. fuck. he hated that you had him like this. such a fucking grip on his mind, his emotions. it was so frustrating, beyond frustrating. “that’s okay with you? short notice.”
“i wasn’t busy.”
“you’re never busy.” he smiled a little. “you know most girls your age go to the bar. flirt. drink.”
“i’m not legal drinking age,” you reminded him. fuck, that was too true. couldn’t be more fucking true. you were only twenty. “i’m well aware of what girls my age do. i find the time between, believe me.”
he chuckled, “yeah?”
“yes. i do all of those things you mentioned and more. i’m a riot. a party girl. you know this money pays for my coke addiction.”
he held the door for you, grinning, “glad to be of service. you know how obsessed little miss upstairs is with the snow queen from narnia.”
you laughed, hand on your stomach. he kept his smile smug. “that’s good!” you laughed, leaning against his car. he locked the door and walked down the few steps. he stepped close, your laugh faded away as he reached around you to open the door for you. you were trapped between him and his arm and the car. you blinked a few times and he smirked as he walked to his side of the car and got in.
you got in with him, buckling up. fuck. he was good. you almost recovered from the close contact, he put a cigarette between his teeth as he backed out of the driveway. you thought that was hot. “you smoke?” he asked, pulling onto the road, lighting his cigarette.
“no.”
“mmm, good girl.” he said, blowing smoke out the window. he grinned to himself. if you weren’t wet before, you were now. your breath caught in your throat and you felt your cheeks and ears burn. fuck. fuck. fuck. it was all you could think about. good girl, he knew exactly what you wanted to hear and it was a good thing it was exactly his vocabulary. if he gave in right now he’d pull over and fuck you to pieces and you know what, you’d take it. you almost veered the car off the road yourself.
your throat was dry. your brain was screaming to kiss him at every red light. fuck him here in his car in the middle of the road and get dragged away only by cops with tasers and guns and batons. your whole body was hot, white hot, burning.
he just smiled to himself as he drove. he didn’t mind the silence, it had a good reason. it had flustered you so badly, you couldn’t crack any witty little cheeky jokes. he said goodnight and watched your ass as you walked inside.
the desperate need to get off was so wild you almost called an ex. like you were drunk on some strong alcohol his words reverberated around your brain it called for bad decisions and a need to fuck SOMETHING. like you were a creature, you needed something, someone inside of you now. it couldn’t be him, he was gone.
no, he was too old, it wasn’t because he’d gone home to his perfect, lovely daughter because he was a grown man with a six year old daughter and he was technically your employer and fucking him would be wrong. but it would feel so good. you had to resort to your own hands, sliding down into your underwear on your couch in your apartment. fingers rubbing your clit vigorously. you breathed hard, thinking about him fucking you in his shitty car on top of all the papers and cigarette cartons. fucking you so hard your head hit the car door repeatedly. he could have. if he had done anything to you after saying those two words, you would have let him do anything he fucking wanted to you.
you slept like a baby, knocked out after several rounds, enough to dull the need to be fucked to a low hum. he messaged you. before you went, though.
3-8?
perfect.
you replied short and sweet before passing out.
the next day you were back at his. he was in the driveway, you were just a little late. it wasn’t a big deal. he said goodbye, very friendly, very normal. you went inside and did various crafts and activities with his daughter, letting the good girl thing slip your mind.
he was back by eight. eight on the dot. talking about his mom being in town. you didn’t inquire. you had to meet some friends for ‘drinks’ at her place. you said goodbye to his daughter, smiling and telling her you’d see her soon. patrick thanked you for making chicken, paid you extra plus bonus for the pizza ingredients the other day. he didn’t seem like he really had this kind of money to be giving you, but you took it.
in taking everything else, you said goodnight and headed over to your friends house. had a can or two of a pre-mixed margarita, talked about things with your friends. it wasn’t until the conversation turned to something you needed to show them a picture of when you realized you didn’t have your phone. you looked around everywhere- your phone was expensive, you didn’t have the money for a new one. you got up and looked around and then it hit you. your phone was probably at patrick’s.
you didn’t have his number memorized. “do you need it?” your friend asked. “can you get it tomorrow?”
“i guess i could, but that’s my uber home and all of my cards are in the back, i wouldn’t have bus fare, i wouldn’t have- fuck.”
“just go honey, we’re not going anywhere!” your other friend chimed in. “i literally only have enough for you to get one bus, but get a transfer to come back?” none of them could drive impaired. or would. you shut your eyes. you hated the idea of showing up unannounced. but you took that bus fare. and you got on a bus over to patrick’s. you walked down his street trying to rehearse what stupid thing you’d say about this. forgetting your phone- like an absolute idiot. you had no idea where it even was but you came straight from there to your friends so it could be three places and the bus was not an option you could seek out.
you walked up the front steps and quietly knocked. you tucked your hair behind your ears and folded your arms over your chest. the evening air was chilly for a tank top and a skirt. it was a moment before he answered the door, it was around midnight so you knew he’d be up. or you hoped. it was stupid to even have come, but the margs were hitting just enough to screw up your decision making.
he was surprised to see you at the door. opened the screen door. “hey,” you said. “i’m so sorry about this, i’m so sorry- i know it’s late-“
“yeah- are you okay?” he asked, looking to see how you got there.
“i’m fine, i just… i think i forgot my phone here.” you said. it wasn’t the smoothest delivery. your eyes wandered down his body, eyeing his true build, hidden underneath those other shirts. the one he was currently in was tight, a black t-shirt. and sweatpants. he was muscular but it was all soft, soft features. one of those dad bods that bad definition not to pass as a true dad bod, but one still. holy fuck, this was a terrible idea. he grinned, running a hand through his hair as he leaned against the doorframe. “it’s so stupid, i know.”
“happens,” he chuckled. “you want to come in and look for it?”
“could i? i would be so quick,”
“i’m not in any rush,” he replied. “c’mon.” he stepped out of your way, holding the door as you came into the house. most of the lights were off aside from the adjustable dim ones in the kitchen. he turned on the lamp in the corner. “she’s with her grandma at the hotel tonight.” patrick said, starting to look around. you looked over at him. “is your ringer on?”
“i have it off when i’m with her,” you replied. patrick smiled. it was sweet. “fuck, i really am so sorry about this mr. zweig, i-“
“how many times before you call me patrick?”
“hm?”
“patrick.” he restated. “i’m not calling you ‘miss y/l/n’.”
“very true, i’m sorry sir,” you said, leaning in a little as you passed him, looking up on the mantle of the fireplace.
“that’s worse,” he chuckled.
“i think you like it.”
oh, it kicked into existence. hard. that fire you’d felt before lit up in his body. you were so smug when you thought you could be. it was all witty and teasing and the need to fuck that teasing smile off your face was back. you were too young, he reminded himself, watching you bend to look under the couch cushions. fuck, why did you have to be so…
the margaritas maybe made you a little bold. not too much, you were still you. he checked the table, looking around more for your phone. “what does it look like?”
your laugh from the other room was so pretty. “red!” you called back. red phone… red phone… patrick was so glad to be separated from you by a wall. he was hard just thinking about you. having you here was dangerous, his daughter away, nobody could stop him from doing what he wanted but himself. his morals. you were twenty years old. barely fucking legal. he was almost 20 years older than you. but you followed him into the kitchen, pretty doe eyes and pouty lips and worried eyebrows and he could have fucked you on the table when you looked at him. “nothing? again, i’m so sorry for coming in like this.”
“it’s fine,” his words were a little more forced than natural. “bright red?”
“dark red,” you replied.
“flashy?” he meant if it had anything to make it stand out.
“no sir.” you put your hands on your hips and turned around, looking on top of the microwave, behind the stove. anything. you and that tiny skirt, what the fuck was he supposed to do with himself? twenty, in a little skirt on the tips of your toes looking in high up places. the skin of your waist showing as you stretched, finding nothing. “fuck, it’s really nowhere.” you turned to patrick again, pressing a hand to the side of your face. “tell me you hid it and this is funny and that i didn’t drop my phone with all my cards on the bus on the way to my friend’s. i’m begging you.”
he shook his head, grimacing a little. but you were standing just below him, close to him. you looked up at him, observing his expressions while thinking this all over. you’d been so stressed you forgot patrick was hot as fuck. and it almost took you by surprise to snap back to reality here, where he was looking at you like there was something he wanted from you. it was extremely flustering, you blinked it off and went back to the living room to check again. patrick went down the hall and checked the bathroom.
“found it,” he called from the bathroom. you were glad this was over, you needed to get out of this house before the idea of being home alone with him sunk in. him in his tight black undershirt… him in his sweatpants, you tried and tried to ignore the print. he handed you your phone and you slid it into your purse.
“thank you so much,” you nodded, eyes meeting his. his eyes were dark. “again, i’m so sorry to disturb you this late and without warning.”
“anytime,” he was so excited to have you get the fuck out of his house. he watched your hips move as you walked out of the bathroom and down the hall. “where are you off to now?”
“i’ve got to go meet my friends again. i’m probably going to get the bus back, i have a transfer.” you showed him the little white slip of paper, your back pressed to his wall by the door. you looked him over, trying not to think about his ‘sweetheart’ and the way his ‘good girl’ lingered in your brain. you felt that fire ignite in your lower stomach. you had to say goodbye. and fast.
“let me drive you?” he offered. he didn’t know why. he’d probably crash the car. something about the night, something about the way you looked in this lamp light, the idea of being alone.
“i’ll be okay,” you said, stepping just a little closer and it wasn’t even voluntary. “it’s a short trip. a few stops.”
“remember what i said about the obits?” he tsked. “i’d rather see you here at my house than in that section of the newspaper, thanks.”
“here at your house?” you smiled. “it’s either die or be here at your house, i love that.”
“what can i say? i like you here.” he shrugged. you tilted your head. he cleared his throat, “you’re good with her.”
“so you’ve said.” you nodded. “thank you.”
“no problem, sweetheart. and i’m driving you.”
“you’re not driving me,” you replied.
“but i am. c’mon.” he picked up his keys.
“mr zweig,” you reasoned, pressing your hand to his chest. your heart beat hard in your chest as his choice of words. “i’m fine.”
it was getting harder and harder to remember why fucking a twenty year old felt so wrong. he looked down at you, your hand on his chest. mr. zweig, like it was the worst thing on earth but the hottest fucking thing to come out of anyone’s mouth. he looked at you, his chest rising and falling like his restraint was an exercise, like it was a fight. it might have been the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. your magnetic force was pulling him in and soon he’d have to chain himself to something so he didn’t do anything that’d get him in trouble. you were too fucking young. too young. too young.
you stared back. and the moment felt like forever. you could make it back alone but you weren’t sure if you candle heading back to your friends when you felt like this. that ache was back, the one that felt like drugs, like alcohol, like gambling, like the edge of an addiction, knowing the hook, the high is right there. your restraint was prettier, just a reminder that he wouldn’t. you’d let him, but he wouldn’t. it was more cut and dry to believe it was a crush and as much as you wanted him, he wouldn’t. for his daughter, for the sake of the springs on his bed, you hoped. you let out a breath between perfectly parted lips, shrinking into it.
he couldn’t. he wouldn’t. the problem was that he would. he would. he wanted to. he needed to. the second you were gone he’d go feel disgusting about it as he fucked violently into his hand, crude imagery plastered on the inside of his eyelids and he’d go to bed guilty and vile and disturbed. but you were right here and you weren’t gone yet. it was the same feeling, knowing you’d probably take the bus home just to find peace with a showerhead or even the fucking doorman of your building. you’d take anything at this very moment. what patrick wouldn’t give to have some trashy woman in his bed right now. he could call one of his dates up to fuck- he would have given so much to have been with one of them right now. because looking at you, he couldn’t… you were too pretty to be fucked by him, he’d ruin you. you were too young for him. too young and too pretty and too perfect.
he wouldn’t. you were fantasizing just looking at him. your body in flames, burning in a pit of lava, absolutely rolling in hot coals. you needed to stop. you needed cold water. ice water. liquid nitrogen. cryogenic freezing.
“i think you should go,” patrick managed. his voice was cold but not cold enough to cool you down. but he was right. you should go. the idea you’d leave was the same as believing it was all over and a guard was let down. you had the same feeling, moving just slightly to put your shoes back on, but only getting so far as an inch.
it was spontaneous and it was harsh, but it was insanely mutual, the way you kissed. you’d believed you’d get peace and that you could leave, no, wrong move. very wrong move. he kissed you with a force that pinned you to the wall, lust masking the impact of your head against the wall. hungry, starved, violent, he kissed you, hands on your waist, gripping hard as they moved down to your ass, squeezing, grabbing. fast, messy, sinful, his hands under your ass, he lifted you up against the wall.
it would have taken more than the jaws of life to pull the two of you apart. it was fast paced, like the both of you were in some sort of vicious caged battle, your arms around his neck, fingers curled right into his hair. you’d never been kissed or touched like this before. you were moaning from just the kiss and he swore the god he’d never been harder in his life. neither of you could wait, there was no time to just kiss, you weren’t teenagers, you weren’t patient or naive or curious, you were demanding, grabbing at each other like a lifeline.
he stepped off the wall, carrying you the best he could, too distracted to actually know which way his room was. he could have you on the couch, he was impatient, so were you. he let your feet down, your hands desperately clutching his shirt, pulling him down the hall as you kissed nonstop, breaking only for small breaths and for your shirts being stripped as you walked backward. his big hands cupped your face, pressing you against both sides of the hallway while your hands fumbled with the drawstring of his sweats. there was no time for any of this.
it was animalistic. it was the basic need, it was desperate. you crashed into his closed door and patrick swore to god he’d destroy anything in the way of him fucking you right now. he would have either kicked his door in or fucked you against it, no problem, but you reached behind you and opened his door so he didn’t have to do either of those things. he was blinded by lust, your hand down the front of his boxers within seconds of being in his room. you crashed backward onto his bed, crawling over him in your skirt, your hand stroking him up and down, but he had no need for it.
in seconds you were flipped onto your back and you were working together to kick your skirt and underwear off, gone to the same abyss his pants and boxers went. you were too young, patrick reminded himself as your bra came off. too young for him, too young, to pretty, too perfect to be fucked so hard by him. but he had you and there was no stopping him. it was a mistake, it was wrong, but there was nothing in his way as your hand slid down over his chest, following the trail of hair. he kissed your neck enough to make you cry out as his teeth followed his lips, leaving what would be nasty marks by morning.
your legs open, ready for him, he didn’t waste a single fucking second more, grabbing your hips and fucking into you. you swore to god you felt stars with how hard his first thrust was. he filled you to the brim, you weren’t sure you had any more space of all of him inside of you. you felt him stretch you out from the inside and you had no time to adjust to just how huge he was as he was instantly pounding into you. “good girl, taking all of it so perfectly,” he groaned. your nails were already in his back, desperately grabbing for something. your moans were loud and fucking pornographic. he wouldn’t have thought something like that could come from your pretty mouth. he wasn’t very considerate for your young, tight pussy as he thrusted into it with a violence only seen in the most gruesome of acts. he’d wanted to fuck women before, but he’d never needed to fuck someone so badly in his entire life. and it showed with the sheer force of which he fucked you. “you feel so fucking good.” he assured you with a decency that was not genuine whatsoever. it came from a place that disgusted even himself. you were only twenty…
“oh my god!” you exclaimed. you were sure he was actively bruising your cervix. it hurt so fucking badly but it felt too good for you to care. you saw stars, they spun and danced as your pleasure took over your entire body, legs wrapped around him, shaking already from the impact. skin on skin, loud as you both were, groaning, moaning, dirty little strings of words slipping from his mouth as he fucked you. “fuck me, fuck me- fuck!” you couldn’t help the noises you made, pathetic, reduced to just a moaning mess and a puddle of a girl who had only thought this was a violent crush.
“so wet for me, you wanted this so fucking bad, hm?” he taunted, evil grin on his face.
“uh-huh,” you sighed, hardly able to say the words. “s-so-“ you knew you had something to say but it was gone, erased repeatedly with every thrust into you. you’d have a witty response if it wasn’t for how good and all-consuming this was. “god-“
he fucked you with all of his pent up frustration, his hand sliding up the soft skin of your neck, pressing just gently, but enough. you were moaning loudly, the headboard hit the wall hard, and that hand on your neck moved to shove his fingers in your mouth. it was enough to make you into something even less, taking them in your mouth like you should. “so good for me, so pretty- fuck-“ he groaned, strong thrusts not faltering for a second. “this what you wanted?”
“m-mhm,” you said, pretty lips closed around his fingers, struggling to feel so much at once.
“so fucking perfect, guys your age fuck you this good?”
“god- fuck- no,” you moaned. he took his fingers away. he lifted your leg up, fucking into you with a new angle that spread goosebumps all down your skin. you were being fucked dumb- you were sure that you were forgetting your own name actively. losing yourself in this. patrick had never fucked anyone so hard in his life, feeling himself reach the furthest point inside of you over and over and over. “patrick-“
his name moaned from you gave him new momentum and you couldn’t help the constant warm rushes that ran over your body like pulses, like waves on a shore. your body was a solar system of exploding stars. the hands that travelled your body were sure to leave bruises on you by later… harsh and strong and not letting go, fingers in your flesh. it was only fair, your nails dug into his back, he was probably bleeding. “gonna come for me, sweetheart?” he said, grinning over his own groans. if he’d been anyone else the question would have been stupid, sex is never that good, but this was. no clitoral stimulation needed he was hitting every right spot in the right way. you felt it like a knot coming undone, like all the stars that were exploding were both imploding and exploding rapidly, like a blinking threat for the collapse of a universe. dramatic, an imperfect display and an unfair comparison but so fucking needed. you nodded hard, mouth open, breathing hard, kissing him when you could. it was messy, uncalculated, but so fucking perfect.
out of desperation, you lifted your hips the best you could to meet his harsh thrusts. needing to finish, needing this more than you’ve ever needed anything. you couldn’t help the grin that spread up your face, even in the heat of things. you won. he caved, you won. and he couldn’t fuck this smile off your face. you only held it as long as you cut put off finishing, the friction, the feeling building up to crash around you. it was full-body, felt entirely. your nails dug into him harder and he waited just another moment to spill into you. you felt it hot between your legs as he continued to pump in and out of you, so much cum that it seeped out before he could pull out. he didn’t think about anything but you, how wrapped up he was in this, how fucked he was. he’d lost to a pretty twenty year old. as if this was some sick game. you’d both gotten what you wanted, but the cost was greater.
it was the hardest orgasm you both had ever felt, both of your ears ringing, breathing heavily, feeling all of it. to the greatest extent possible. he pulled out and collapsed beside you, his back stinging as it hit the bed. your smile returned as you tried to catch your breath, the stars dancing out of sight slowly. “oh, i’m fucked,” patrick breathed, hand falling onto his chest.
you laughed breathily, “other way around.”
he chuckled over his harsh breathing, chest rising and falling deeply. he rubbed his face, but it couldn’t erase the fact he had sex with a controversially young woman. what was worse? the fact he had needed to fuck her so badly or the fact he didn’t feel any better about it afterward? or the surprise third thing that was the urge to keep you close?
“okay, listen-“ he said, propping himself up on his elbow turning your way, but you grabbed him by the jaw and pulled him into another kiss. a second kiss, with a different meaning than the first one. it was still hard to breathe but he didn’t mind, grin spreading up his face, a little sly, dimple showing. he felt a little less ashamed with this kiss in the way. it was different. oh he was soooo much more than fucked now.
taglist: @kaaaiiaaa @swetearss @xoxog0ssipg1rl @lalalandofive
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princesajellyfish · 3 months
Text
Taste me
Rating: Mature (18+ No Minors allowed)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Characters: Laios Touden Content: Smut, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Semi-Public Sex Word count: 3805 Reader has a pussy and and wears a skirt. Everything else is up to interpretation. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Laios, you're so special to me.”
Currently you lay on the hard and rocky floor of the dungeon. Pebbles and sharp edges poked your soft flesh and the back of your head started to ache from being pushed against its hard surface. But how could you possibly pay attention to that when you have the world's most handsome explorer in between your thighs. If you would've known that this is how confessing would've turned out you would've done so much much sooner. 
Laios and you had shared mutual attraction for each other for sometime now. You, of course, noticed it much earlier than Laios ever could've. He was such a cutie, even though he was doing his best to hide his affections towards you it was impossible for you not to notice his longing gazes at night by the fire, or the extra portions of food that he would put aside for you. You would have been a fool not to notice any sooner. 
Knowing Laios for as long as you have you knew that approaching the subject subtly was not going to work out with Laios. When it came to romance, it was not going to cut it. The love of your life was caring, sweet, and knowledgeable on all things monsters and dungeons, but he was not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to social cues. You didn't mind of course, that was one of the things you found the most endearing about him. No matter how wary he was of other people and their intentions he always did his best to stay as genuine and sincere to himself as he could. The way he was so brave and willing to be unapologetically himself made you look up to him and admire his strong will. But gosh was he dense. 
Swallowing your own nerves you knew that if you wanted this relationship to advance anywhere you were going to have to to set things in motion. Not wasting any time one evening after eating a dish that consisted of harpy eggs and vegetables from senshis garden you volunteered to accompany Laios on a quest to find some extra fire material. 
Walking alone in the dungeon halls was not the most romantic ambiance or the place where you imagined you would have your love confession in - but this was Laios you had fallen for, confessing here was probably his equivalent of a grandiose cherry blossom confession. 
He had been rambling about his dream monster, something he had only spoken to you about, apart from his sister Falin, before you interrupted him. “I'm so sorry Laios, you know I love your monster talk…but there is something important I have to talk to you about.” you wrung your hands into the fabric of your long skirt, twisting and pulling to find confidence in between its threads. 
Sensing your nerves Laiois placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and nudged you to turn your body slightly towards him. His gorgeous puppy dog amber eyes peered into yours and scanned your face over, you guessed he was checking you out to see if you had any injuries bothering you. In return you averted his own gaze and stared down at your fidgeting hands. Finally he spoke up to break the silence, “Hey? Everything alright? Did the food not settle well with you?”
Oh silly Laios, always thinking about food, If you weren't so nervous right now you would've laughed at his question. Shaking your head you found the courage to lift your eyes back to his. 
You knew that Laios at least held some sort of affection towards you. You were still unsure if it ran as deep and as passionate as your feelings for him but you knew there was something there. You also knew that even if Laios wanted nothing to do with you in that way he would never belittle you for it. He was gentle and kind, a little too much sometimes, but he always treated others with respect. He had never done anything to hurt you purposefully. So you weren't quite sure why you felt so shaken by your attempt to confess. You supposed, that is just what love feels like. 
You really hoped it would get a little less scary in the future. 
“Laios, I think I love you.”
There, you said it. As blunt and straight to the point as you could, You made sure to leave nothing up to interpretation for Laios. You wanted him to fully understand the gravity of your feelings for him. Feeling anxiety crawl up your throat you quickly added  “And it's okay if you don't feel the same way. Or if that's too much too soon. I just wanted you to know.” 
The more you spoke the more you felt your voice die in your throat, each word sounding quieter than the last. Laios had still not said a word, but he stared at you with wide eyes and a slack jaw. In this moment you felt like you could puke from your nerves and yet you still thought the man in front you couldn't possibly look any cuter, 
Suddenly you heard him take in the biggest breath of air he could muster, alerting you that this man had stopped breathing since you confessed to him, and then exhaled with the most hearty laugh you've ever heard come from him. His cheeks bloomed in hues of reds and pinks, unstoppable rivers of blood that reached the tip of his fingers and pooled to his neck. His eyes blinked rapidly as if he was trying to make sure he wasn't in a dream. “Please,” he hiccuped, “Do you mean it?” 
You stared at his face before lowering your gaze to his lips. They were slightly parted and you could get a glimpse of his cute pink tongue. He must've noticed your stares because he let his tongue quickly swipe over his lips to wet them. Gazing back up to his eyes your hand finally let go of its death grip on your skirt and instead gently nestled into the side of his face. “I wouldn't even dream about joking about this Laois.” His eyes suddenly felt too intense for you so you closed your eyes and took another deep breath, “I love you and I can't contain it anymore. From the moment I met you I fell so deeply for you. You're so perfect. So kind.” You rubbed gentle circles on his cheeks, “‘You drive me crazy.”
Every word you spoke felt like a punch to the chest for Laios. In the best way possible. He never knew that hearing you sing such praises about him would affect him so viscerally. To his embarrassment he began to feel his pants become uncomfortably tight. “Not right now,” he thought. He didn't want to ruin your confession with his pervy thoughts. 
He brought his hand up to your wrist and held it in his grasp. You observed how his eyebrows crinkled in frustration as he shut his eyes tightly. His breathing seems labored and small beads of sweat began to form on his hairline. If it wasn't for his grasp on your wrist you would have fallen backward from the overwhelming amount of desire you felt for him. Gods…you wanted him so bad. 
Taking advantage of his closed eyes you let your own travel. You started off by staring at his lips still moist from his tongue, but your sinful desires seemed to take full control of your actions as you let your eyes wander further down his body. His armor in the way of you admiring his chest annoyed you for a second before you got a glimpse of something better. So this is why he was in deep concentration. 
Laios was suddenly shook from his stupor when the sound of your airy laugh reached his ears. Slowly peeking his eyes open he was welcomed by the sight of your beautiful face. Eyes clouded with something he couldn't describe stared directly at his current source of frustration. Gasping he pushed himself back and dropped your wrist as if it had burned him. 
He opened his mouth once, twice, three times to attempt and get some words out but for the life of him he couldn't form a single coherent sentence. A thousand things ran through his head and now it was turn to fidget with his hands. Pulling and picking his fingers he turned his body to face the wall behind him. He knew his silence could be taken wrongly and the last thing he wanted was to mess up his chances with the most beautiful woman he’s ever met. 
Thankfully, you knew the man you had fallen for better than you knew yourself. So you allowed him to have his moment alone. After all, you were more than pleased with his reaction to your confession. 
Finally he turned his head to the side, body still facing the wall, and began to speak up. “I'm sorry, I promise I'm not a perv. I don't know why I'm reacting like this,” He took in another deep breath, “You deserve a more romantic response.”
Giggling you made your way towards him and wrapped your arms around his armored torso, resting your head against his back you let out a content sigh. At this sudden feeling of warmth Laois tensed up before he quickly relaxed in your arms. “You're perfect Laios.”
Fuck. 
He was so fucking hard. Did you even know how much power you had over him? How all you had to do was ask him to give you the world and he would do it. You could ask for the moon and the stars and he would spend his entire life figuring out how to do it. He loved you. Oh he loved you so much. Gods, the minute he laid eyes on you for the first time, you introduced him to a thousand new emotions he had no idea what to do with for the first time in his life. He knew what attraction was, and he understood what it meant. But love? This type of love? He wanted to learn everything about it solely with you. 
Gaining confidence he flipped his body to face you, careful with your arms as he held them against himself. You could've melted in his arms right then and there, he looked at you with such adoration and love you almost felt bad about how much it excited you…almost. Testing the waters you pushed your body against his, feeling his boner poking your body. 
“Hmph- wait (y/n),” his face becoming impossibly more red than before. He laid his head on top of yours and breathed in your scent. There was no way he was going to be able to control himself for much longer if you kept testing him like this. 
Feeling bold, and a little impatient, you positioned your arms to wrap around his neck and brought your lips to his ear to whisper “It’s okay baby, I feel the same way too.” 
You gently grabbed his, very sweaty, hand and placed it on the hem of your skirt. “I want you Laios,”  his fingers curled around the hem, “If you want me too then I'm all yours.” 
That was all he needed to hear. Almost too fast your skirt was pooled around your ankles and the cold dungeon air kissed your bare legs. Still pressed against him you not only heard but felt the vibrations of his almost animalistic growl he released.
Gently separating from him you reached for the bottom of your shirt and pulled it off, discarding it on the floor. You wished there was a way to permanently tattoo the sight of Laios staring at you as if you were an angel sent from above into your eyelids. He made you feel so loved, so beautiful. One of the many reasons why you fell in love with him.
He quickly reached out for you once more and attacked your lips with his tongue, he wanted, no he needed, to taste you. Hot breaths melted into each other and moans danced together in the air. Your fingers wrapped around his ash blonde locks and slightly pulled whenever he would bite down on your lower lip with his teeth. As dreamy as this felt, there was still something bothering you. Tilting your head away from Laios you watched as he instinctively tried to follow your lips before you rested your palm against his. “I dont think it's really fair that I'm the only one half naked here.”
Gasping at your confession Laios began to fumble with his armor. Amused you watched as he clumsily pulled it off with a sense of urgency. Now Laios was not the type of person to hyperfixate on his body. He never really put in the time to debate whether he was handsome or not. His mind was always preoccupied with monsters, food, dungeons, and only recently you. But now that you were in front of him, waiting and watching, he felt the ugly sensation of insecurity make its way into his mind. Maybe you would take one look at his body and wish you were with someone more toned and ripped. He wasn't the skinniest guy, and for the first time ever he didn't like that. 
You noticed he was hesitating with removing his shirt and it honestly broke your heart. So you approached him and placed your hands on either side of his cheeks, squishing the fat causing his face to contort into an adorable little pout. “We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with love,” you gave him a little peck on his pouty lips, ”But trust me when I say I love you. ALL of you. Including your body.” 
Oh…you were not real. That's all Laios could think. How on earth was there such a perfect person? An actual Goddess walking amongst mere mortals like him. How did someone as perfect as you fall for someone as strange as him? He didn't notice it but his eyes started to sparkle with unshed tears. For so long he's been alienated from this type of affection. Something he didn't know was bothering him deep down inside until he finally got it from you. 
He swore right then and there he would do anything to make you feel good. If you were a goddess then he was your most loyal worshiper. He finally removed his undershirt and stood before you bare chested. Before you had time to admire him he kneeled at your feet. “Laios? What are you doing?” 
“(y/n)...” He lifted your right foot and placed gentle kisses on it, “I'm going to show you just how much I love you.” 
Your words died in your throat as you watched him begin to trail his kisses from your foot to your ankle, and from your ankle to your leg. Every time his lips made contact with your skin your core pulsed with desire. His eyes never breaking contact with yours. Mentally imprinting your cute expressions and sounds into his mind forever. Finally he arrived at your inner thigh, its plushness making his dick twitch with excitement. If he wasn't so far gone he would've been a little embarrassed. But just a little.
He tried, he really did try, to control his impulses and not bite that delicious plush skin. But alas he was still a man, and you were so cute, so so cute. You jolted and gripped his hair when you felt his blunt teeth push down on your thigh, it hurt, but it felt so right. This continued on for a while before you started to lose your patience. You needed to be touched and he was taking too long, ignoring the most sensitive part of you. Bucking your hips you anchored his face to your core and held him there with your grip on his hair, not missing the moan he let out at your sudden dominance. “Then stop teasing and show me just how much you love me.”
His hands gripped your hips and he pressed his nose in between your folds, fuck you smelled so good. He was inexperienced with pussy but he was a professional eater, so he let his instincts take over. Pushing your underwear down he wasted no time connecting his tongue to your sensitive folds. He began by lapping up your delicious juices, immediately trying to guess what the flavor resembled. It was a bit tangy but somehow had a little bit of sweetness to it. He wondered if the food you had eaten today affected its taste, specifically the candy they had made with the dungeon spirits. This only made his cock impossibly more hard, already planning on tasting your delicious pussy every night after a good meal just to see how much it affected the way you tasted. Fuck was he in deep. 
Wanting to get a better taste he searched for your hole and once he located it he wasted no time pushing his tongue inside, fucking you with it. You began to roll your hips on his face, trying to meet the pace of his tongue. Your freed one of your hands from its deathly grip on his hair and moved it towards your clit. As good as Laios was making you feel, you needed a little more stimulation. This of course was not missed by him. 
Separating from your core with an obscene pop, he looked up at you, his mouth, chin, and even his nose glistening with your juices. “Please (y/n), teach me where to touch you.” 
Oh you were much deeper than him. But how could you not be?
Pushing yourself off the wall you were previously leaning on for stability you decided to lay down. Spreading your legs you used your hands to spread your pussy for Laios to observe. “This right here is called the clit, this is the most sensitive area.” He nodded along with extreme enthusiasm. Typical Laios you thought.
“You can rub it, lick, or suck on it.” You then inserted two fingers into your wet hole. “You already know what this is, but if you finger me here while licking my pussy-” a small whine managed to escape your lips, “You'll make me cum in no time baby.”
This brings us to where this originally started. With you writhing and moaning against the harsh dungeon floor as Laios abused your swollen pussy in every which way. So lost into your pleasure you couldn't even tell what was his tongue and what was his fingers anymore. Meanwhile Laios was having the time of his life in between your legs. While he was pleasuring your cunt, savoring, sucking, lapping, and overall devouring you, his hips bucked into the floor, chasing his own release. He could cum just by eating you out. 
You felt your legs begin to shake involuntarily, and you knew what this meant. “Laois! Im- Im-!” 
He knew exactly what you were trying to say by the way your legs began to grip his head “Mmph, cum for me baby.” 
He flattened his tongue on your clit and began bobbing his head side to side as fast as he could, occasionally stopping to suck on it with fervor. Meanwhile his fingers were pistoning your hole, curling inside to find your sweet spot. A sudden hot flash of pleasure completely took over your body and you couldn't contain yourself from gushing your orgasm all over his face. You swore you saw white as you let out your release. 
Laios felt so good he could cry. Your taste, your moans, your pussy, your everything was too overwhelming. He wanted more and at the same time couldn't handle it. With one last buck to the floor he felt his own searing release take over his body. Cumming in his underwear the vibrations of his own moan electrifying your cunt. 
After a few moments of you both catching your breaths and riding out your orgasms in bliss the reality of where you were hit you both like a ton of bricks.
Oops. 
You prayed the rest of your party members were too distracted with their own chores to have heard the sinful indulgences you and Laios participated in. In the middle of the dungeon no less. Oh well, you were too content with the man who was currently laying on top of you to really care. Unfortunately you knew that they would eventually come looking for the two of you if you took too long to return. Patting his back you pushed your body off the ground with your forearm and placed a gentle kiss on his head. 
Moving his head to look into your eyes he let out a gentle sigh. Clearly not ready to let go and head back just yet. He pressed a few kisses into your neck and hugged you tightly. He finally had you. Giggling you proceeded to sit up all the way and grabbed his face to attack him with kisses. Once you landed on his lips you noticed how you could taste yourself against him. 
“GUYS! WHERE ARE YOU?!” That was definitely Marcille. 
FUCK!
You both quickly scrambled to your feet and frantically searched for your discarded clothing, almost painfully pulling it on your bodies. Neither one of you had time to wipe down which caused you both to cringe a little. But that was better than being caught in such an intimate position by someone you both respected and cared about. Plus the embarrassment you would feel later would surely keep you up for nights on end. 
You quickly turned to Laios and without thinking ran your hands through his hair in an attempt to make it look presentable. If you weren't so focused you wouldn't have missed the pure look of awe and admiration he held for you at that moment. 
“There you are! We were beginning to get worried.” turning the corner, Marcille stood with a hand against her chest, letting out a deep sigh. 
“Huh what happened to you guys! You look like you just ran a marathon or something! Did you encounter any monsters?!” 
At the mention of monsters Laios quickly spoke up and formulated a very abstract lie about you and him getting chased by some creature. You honestly couldn't focus much on what he was saying, just being grateful that your man had all the knowledge in the world about monsters to create a believable story. Grabbing his hand you squeezed it. A wordless gesture that meant the world to the both of you. 
Now you wondered, when you were going to be able to return the favor to him.
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AN: Hello!!! Thanks for reading this very self indulgent fic I wrote at my very adult job LOL. In case you couldn't tell this man has me in a chokehold. This is my very first time posting my writing and my first time writing a "x reader" fic. So I apologize if it feels a lil ooc at times.
I think I'd like to continue writing for Dungeon Meshi and possibly for other fandoms, so if you guys have any requests my inbox is always open. :3
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girlygguk · 1 year
Text
denial - jjk (18+)
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➵ summary; it's been a plethora of secret meetups, quickies in the bathrooms of his award shows, and 2 am 'you up?' texts during your year-long situationship with jungkook. you both agreed in the beginning that your careers are far too hectic to commit to anything serious, but you can't shake the shitty ache in your chest every time the high wears off, or when you're crawling out of his bed in the middle of the night. trying to exile the shitty feeling of longing that you harbor for him, you spend time with another one of your guy friends. jungkook sees, and he's mad.
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➵ pairing ; idol!jk x (f)actress!reader
➵ word count ; 5.3k
➵ rating ; 18+ minors dni
➵ content ; jealous (& possessive 🫣) asffff kook, mutual no strings agreement / fwb au, older (just a lil) reader, taehyung sister reader, secret-ish situashionship, smut/fluff-ish/angst-ish, this is FILTHYY i even shocked myself.
➵ warnings ; teasing, swearing, kissing, fingering, spitting, nipple play, dom!jk, oral sex (f rec.), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (wrap it UP. don't be silly), sexy stuff starts a lil later on in the story so basically pwp.
a/n ; while i'm working on the next chap of my fic i come bearing a gift! this is a oneshot but if y'all enjoy it i have a bunch of ideas for this pairing i could work on and maybe make an additional part! thanks sm for reading, hope u enjoy <3 also this is my first time writing smut, so any feedback is insanely appreciated and encouraged! mwah
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Jungkook's room was quiet, the only noise being his soft humming as his thumb dragged down the expanse of his phone screen, scrolling mindlessly through his private Instagram feed. He's already passed a few of his bandmates' photo dumps, leaving a like on a few and a teasing, sarcastic comment on the others. But, then, smirking at his remarks that he finds absolutely priceless, his thumb grinds to a halt as he comes across your latest post.
There you are, in all of your glory. You're posing prettily with an overfilled cup of ice cream from a popular parlour in Seoul Central. A spoon rests against your lips; eyes closed gingerly for the snap. The side of Jungkook's mouth pulls upwards before he can stop it, a soft, dazed smile coating his lips as he stares at you for longer than he'd like to admit. However, the daze ends as abruptly as it began when his focus shifts to the person seated on your left. He recognizes the guy sitting next to you as the leading male in your latest drama, Jae something. 
A hot, uncomfortable feeling bubbles in the pit of Jungkook's stomach as he stares at the classically attractive male in your photo. The feeling intensifies tenfold when he notices the spoon clasped in Jae something's hand, and his eyes search every pixel on his phone screen, begging to find this dirtbag's own cup of ice cream. Finally, he scoffs after scouting every inch of your photo for the third time. So you're really sharing a cup of ice cream with this guy? And it's not even for work. And you posted a picture of it on your Instagram. Your public Instagram.
Jealousy claws at Jungkook's throat with vigour, and he has to lock his phone and put it next to him on his bed before he stands up and hurls it at the wall. Of course, he knows he shouldn't and has no right to be jealous. But he can't help it. He can't control his actions and feelings when it comes to you. He's been infatuated since day one, and though you both have the mutual no-strings agreement as your blooming careers don't allow you the time or freedom to commit to something like that right now, he can't help but feel fucking sick looking at the photo of you and someone else.
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The stadium is boisterous; fans hastily rush to get to their seats in the various sections surrounding the stage as if the concert would start without them. You were currently on your way backstage to visit your brother before the show began. After five minutes of weaving around equipment and dodging the stressed crew rushing around doing last-minute preparations, you finally arrived at your destination.
Knocking thrice on the dressing room door, a muffled "Come in!" has you twisting the handle and walking through the threshold with a cheesy grin. The seven men—six of which you've become good friends with since your brother introduced you—come into view as you enter the room, each of them beaming a mixture of greetings.
"Happy first show!" You exclaim as you walk towards your brother with a bouquet of mixed flowers. Taehyung takes the gift from you with a smile before placing a kiss on your forehead as thanks.
Jungkook's eyes haven't left you since you stepped foot in their dressing room. He swallows harshly, hoping to rehydrate his mouth as all his saliva has apparently decided to dissipate. Jungkook takes in your outfit, the short Chanel dress hugging the curves of your body and showcasing your smooth, slender legs. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he suppresses his smirk when he sees the long-sleeved white undertop you're wearing. Images of you withering beneath him as he marked the top of your breasts a few nights ago flash through his mind, and he has to blink a few times in an attempt to return back to Earth.
Your gaze meets Jungkook's for a split second, watching him drink in your figure before you look back at the rest of the guys with a smile. Then, stepping back to your original position after breaking from the hug with your brother, your arms motion towards the man that you dragged in with you. "This is my friend, Jae Lee."
That's enough to crash Jungkook back down to Earth as his focus shifts to the tall brunette on your right. Jae Lee offers a quick bow with a smile as the rest of BTS chorus a polite greeting in return. "Nice to meet you guys; I'm a big fan." His voice is deep and rugged, just like it is in the drama he starred in with you. The drama that Jungkook binged in one sitting on release day, but he wouldn't tell you that.
"Likewise," Tae returns with a nod and his signature toothy grin before setting the flowers on the tabletop by one of the mirrors, "we're on in ten—do you know where your seats are?"
You nod at your younger brother's question, patting the pocket of Jae's faded jeans, "Jae's got our passes; we'll go there now and let you guys finish getting ready."
Jungkook is fucking fuming at this point as he watches the interaction, tongue pushing against his lower teeth to stop himself from spewing something that would embarrass the both of you.
You bid them one final good luck before spinning on your heel and exiting the room, a cloud of your sweet perfume trains behind you in your departure, invading Jungkook's senses and rendering him dazed as Jae follows you closely, shutting the door gently behind him.
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"God, you guys were insane." You arrived back at your brother's apartment (that he shared with Jungkook) a few minutes ago, the three of you piling through the door as you beelined straight for the couch. "Hoseok has the stamina of a horse, I swear. I'm always shocked whenever I watch you guys perform."
Taehyung laughs from behind you as he shrugs off his jacket before jumping over the back of the couch and landing next to you with a huff. His best friend opts for a different route after ridding himself of his coat, walking into the kitchen to grab a drink of water and hopefully clear his head a bit. 
It's bad enough that he had a foggy grey cloud glooming in the back of his mind during the concert, but then he had to sit in an enclosed vehicle with you and your brother on the way home because Tae wanted to spend more time with you. Of course, Jungkook doesn't blame his friend; you have a week off before your next shoot, and you're headed to Gwacheon in a couple of days to get settled in. Usually, you and Jungkook would be utilizing this time off in a very different way, but unbeknownst to you, Jungkook is not in the mood right now. And he's always in the mood.
The bottle of water is downed in seconds, and the crunch of the now-empty plastic bottle in his hand pulls him out of his thoughts. Stepping on the pedal of the garbage can, he disposes of the rubbish and listens to the sound of soft padded footsteps entering the kitchen.
"You needa put that in the recycling bin."
Your teasing is gentle as you approach the ink-covered man, brushing past him lightly as you lean against the island opposite him. His lips pull into a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, and your eyebrows furrow, leg lifting slightly to nudge him with your sock-covered foot.
"What's wrong, grumpy?" You poke, watching as he shakes his head before pushing off the counter and heading out of the kitchen. Your hand reaches out for him a liiiitle too quickly before he can slink away, "Kook? Are you okay?"
"Yeah, ____. I'm good. Exhausted from the show, that's all." He removes his hand gently from your grasp before continuing his departure and leaving you in the kitchen by yourself. A heavy sigh leaves your lips as you head back to the living room, not surprised when your brother is the only one there.
"I'm going to go and pick up the pizza; they shut in 20, and delivery's off for the night," Taehyung informs you as he chucks his jacket back on, "Kook's headed to bed, so we'll just save him some."
You nod at him before falling back onto the couch and reaching for the TV remote. "Drive safe," you call, and he assures you he will, the sound of the apartment door shutting behind him echoing in your ears. That's all you need to hear before you carelessly throw the remote aside and scramble off the couch towards a certain grumpy cat's bedroom.
"Koo?" Your tone is soft, one hand on the door handle of his room, the other rapping gently at the wood.
His low hum from the other side reaches your ears, and you twist the handle, stepping inside quietly before closing the door and leaning against it. You're not entirely sure how to approach this situation. Most of your interactions with the gorgeous man sitting at the edge of his bed with a somber look have had quite a different vibe. Extremely fucking different.
"Tae's gone to pick up dinner, " you try, "I'd say like twenty minutes or so."
He sighs and nods at your obvious hinting, lifting his gaze from the ground and watching as you saunter towards him. The little black dress he first saw earlier today still has him rattled, and your scent getting more robust with each step you take enhances his stupor. You lift one of your legs over his thigh when you reach him, the bottom of your dress riding up as you settle in his lap. 
Shoving his dreary subconscious to the side, Jungkook leans forward into you before burying his face into your clothed stomach and inhaling as deeply as he can. Your stupifying, sweet, familiar scent invades his nostrils, and he knows he can always count on that to distract himself. You run your hands through his hair with a mewl as his head rises at an achingly slow pace before it's level with yours. 
His eyes are hooded as he closes the distance between you, capturing your lips with his own, and you drink in the soft moan that escapes him when your fingers clutch his hair tighter in your grasp. His mouth is sinful, his tongue delving deeper into your mouth to connect with your own. Instead of your usual teasing fight for dominance, you let Jungkook take control of the kiss, hoping it will soothe the unease you've noticed in his demeanour as of late.
His hands are gliding over your hips, fingers squeezing at the meat of your middle, and you can't help but purr at the feeling, almost as if he's trying to grab as much of your body in his hands as he can. Suddenly the reminder that your brother would be home at any moment returned to your mind, and you reluctantly broke the connection. Climbing off his lap, your feet shakily meet the floor, and your hands reach for the hem of your dress, ready to slip it over your head before you notice the look on his face. He's fighting another internal battle, and it makes you release the fabric in your hands, your dress falling back into place.
"Please tell me what's wrong, Kookie." You mumble, standing in front of him with your hands slumped to your side in defeat. He blows out a quiet breath, shaking his head for what feels like the fifth time tonight before he reaches out for you. Finally, you give in with a deflated sigh, letting him pull you close towards him before he continues your previous actions and clutches the hem of your dress. Dragging the fabric up slowly, he lets it ride just above your stomach before he uses one hand to slip your panties down your legs.
Your eyes flutter shut as the finger hooked into the waistband of your underwear drags across your inner thigh on its journey downwards, his other hand still full of your dress, the thumb on said hand rubbing soft circles against your skin. "Are you together?"
Your eyes snap open at his question, still in a hazy fog from his touches but coherent enough to make out the undertone of his question. His hand doesn't falter in the slightest, your panties hitting the ground with a soft thud, and he drags his hand back up the underside of your thigh when they fall. "No."
So you knew who he was talking about, he thought. "Hm," is all he mutters, the hand on your hamstring bending you at the knee and pulling you abruptly onto his lap. You swallow a yelp as he guides you back over him, unable to help the motion of your hips grinding down when you feel him through his sweatpants.
The feeling that brews inside you when your now bare heat brushes against the fabric of his pants is euphoric, the small wet patch you leave behind being first-hand proof. "10 minutes," you remind in a whisper, leaning forward to attach your lips again, needing additional contact with him more than your next breath.
Jungkook ends the kiss quickly, and it has you pouting when he pulls away. He reaches between you, shoving his sweats and underwear down in one motion, his erection jutting out on demand and hitting his stomach once free. He leans back a little but doesn't allow himself to lie down entirely, and you usher him backwards before his grip on your waist tightens, and you stop your action. You look at him in confusion, his intoxicating chocolate brown eyes lifting from where you're seated to meet your gaze. "Sit on it."
Your breath catches in your throat at his demand, but you follow it nonetheless, his readjustment allowing you to plant your knees on the bed and lean forward slightly. You look down for a split second to grasp at his hardened length resting against his stomach and guide it to where you need it most. You look up before letting it enter you, your eyes flickering over his face and realizing he's already staring at you. He doesn't say anything verbally, but his features give everything away without the need to. 
Jungkook leans forward, his hands sliding around your stomach before they reach your back. The flats of his palms cover almost the entirety of your back as his head falls into the crook of your neck. He places a single restrained kiss on your sweet spot, his lips finding it easily as they've visited the area hundreds of times. "Baby," he mutters into your neck, "sit."
And you do.
You finish lining up the tip of his cock at the entrance of your hole before letting go and fully sinking onto him. The mangled breath that he chokes into the crook of your neck paints a devilish smirk on your lips, waiting until you feel his entire length submerge into you before lifting up and slamming back down, harder.
His breathing is heavy as his hands slide down your back before resting on your ass and grabbing a gluttonous handful when you rise. A strangled moan escapes your lips as he squeezes, spreading your cheeks and listening to the elicit sound of your walls sucking him in. You throw your head back in ecstasy, your clit throbbing every time it comes in contact with his balls, the feeling igniting a fire in your belly, arousal coursing through every cell in your body.
"Fucking. Hell," Jungkook curses; his eyes are slits as he glances down at his lap, watching your centre swallow him whole and mercilessly. He lifts one of his hands to his mouth, tongue swirling around his thumb before it presses against your clit, rubbing against it expertly and causing you to spew another strangled moan. "That's it, baby," his tone is low and filthy, and your hands grab onto his shoulders to balance yourself as the pleasure is getting too much.
His torture on your clit doesn't stop, not even when your hips stutter momentarily, the abuse to your cunt pulling at the rubber band holding you together harder and harder with each passing moment. "Stop playing with my clit," you cry, "or I'll fucking cum."
You almost regret opening your mouth because his hand pulls back instantly, and a soft whine leaves you at the loss of contact. You don't think twice before lifting your hips again, about to resume your action of riding him, when all of a sudden, he lifts you slightly, flipping you around until your back hits the mattress. "Wha—" your excuse of a question is cut off abruptly when he kneels down and drags you closer to the edge of the bed, mouth attaching to your clit with vigour.
"Fuck. Fuck." Is all you can mutter, your hands automatically going to his head, fingers threading through his hair and tugging when his tongue hits that part of your cunt that blurs your vision. Jungkook is lost in it, his tongue wrapping around your clit, relishing in the moans spilling from you. Lifting his head slightly, he gathers the saliva in his mouth before he spits on your pussy and dives back in. "What the fuck," you scream as he devours you like he's on death row and your cunt is his last meal, "Gguk—"
"I know, baby," he nods after pulling away for a split second, "just let go." He punctuates his words by sliding a finger, and then two, into your hole, and that's the knot in the fucking noose. His fingers are relentless, pushing all the way into you until they reach that spongey part before sliding out and repeating the same torturous routine. He knows you're close; he knows everything about you at this point. He's proven right when he feels your walls clench around his fingers and shoves his face deeper into your heat in response. His nose is buried in your cunt, tongue lapping and sucking at your clit feverishly, and you lose it. Your moans are silent, your throat not having the power to produce noise anymore as your eyes roll to the back of your head. "Baby," you manage, "I'm fucking cumming."
Jungkook moans into your pussy; its vibration is the tipping point as your vision blurs, flashing white as your orgasm washes over you. Your knees shake, closing around his head as he doesn't relent, your body convulsing and grinding into his mouth as he works you through your orgasm. 
Your head is slumped against the pillow as you crash back down to Earth, Jungkook eventually pulling away from your core as you shudder, pressing soft kisses against your inner thigh as he detaches from you. Pulling himself up, he makes his way onto the bed, lowering his strong body over you. He's hungry on his journey upwards, lips dragging against every inch of your skin, his tongue dipping out to wet them when the skin of your leg absorbs their moisture. He explores your stomach, his bunny teeth grazing against your belly button as he gets higher. It looks like he's where he wants to be when he's levelled with your chest. He pulls at the dress that you're honestly still surprised that he's left on you for this long before he lifts it over your head, chucking it to the side without another thought. A grunt leaves his lips when the white long-sleeve you had on under your dress is still there, and he rids it the same, just with more furrowed brows.
A giggle leaves your lips at his frustration before it's replaced with a content sigh as he latches onto your left nipple. Your hand runs through his dishevelled hair; lip caught between your teeth as his tongue wraps around the bud, his teeth grazing at it softly. "T-Taehyung will be back soon," you warn through a moan, "need you inside of me."
A string of spittle drags from your nipple and his mouth as he pulls back, his head tilting slightly as his gaze catches yours. "Still needy," he hums, leaning forward and pressing a sweet kiss to your lips before lifting his hips and grabbing hold of his hardened length. He drags it between your wet folds, the sound of your slickened cunt music to his ears. Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling, still sensitive from your orgasm, but the need to feel him inside you outweighs the overstimulation.
"Beg for it." He says simply, the length of his shaft still firmly in his hand as he drags it through your sticky folds. Your eyes snap open, eyebrows ruffled in astonishment as you stare at the cocky piece of shift above you.
"Jun—" you start, "beg for it." He finishes, his focus lifting from where you're almost conjoined to your face. His face is hard, and you know better than to fight him on this. Your breaths come out shortly; his tone should not be turning you on this much.
"Please." You mewl, your chest heaving once as he presses his cock deeper into folds, not quite yet at the hole you need him to fill. "Please, Jungkook. Fuck me. Fuck me. Ruin me." You spit, losing all sense of self-worth as the heaviness of his lower body against you turns you into a pathetic mess.
His smirk is taunting. It's the last thing you see before your eyes roll back to the back of your head, a disgustingly loud moan booming from your throat as he thrusts into you with one motion. A strangled gasp blows from your lips as he pulls out before slamming back into you twice as hard. Sweat is gathering at the base of his brows, a moan of his own chorusing with yours as he slams his cock deeper with each thrust. You're at a loss for words as the pleasure intensifies, the coil in your stomach bubbling ferociously for the second time tonight. "Does he fuck you this good?" He can't stop himself, the words spluttering from his lips before he has a chance to stop them.
He's leaning a little further back now, his hand pressing against your belly slightly, feeling the motion of his cock sliding into you through your fucking skin. How he expects you to respond right now is beyond you, the only noise you can possibly muster being a high-pitched screech as his pace increases. "Huh?" He spits, spreading your legs wider, lowering slightly to delve his cock deeper into your cunt.
"No." It comes out as a mixture of a gasp and a moan, "Nobody fucks me like you do." A stupid wave of relief rushes over him as he hears you speak, the sound of your squelching walls suctioning him in parading through the room. Your assurance ignites something inside him, and you're surprised you can keep your eyes open long enough to see the transformation. He secures one of your legs around his waist, his hand holding your other open as he plants one of his knees firmly on the bed. He stares at your pussy in awe, watching your clit glisten with slickness before spitting harshly at it; his thumb reaching down to spread it over you. A choked sob leaves your lips at the action before an even louder scream cuts it off; you don't even recognize your own voice.
Jungkook is ravenous. His hips are pulling back at record speed, every inch of his cock sliding out of you until just the tip remains before slamming back inside brutally. "Oh my fucking god, Jungkook!" You screech as he hits that spot deep inside you on every thrust like he's been training for this his whole life.
"You fucking love it, don't you? This what you wanted?" He spits as his cock splits you in two, "You know I hate seeing people touch what's mine. Knew I'd fucking lose it."
"He never touched me. Wouldn't let him." You choke, your back lifting slightly as you feel him push in just that much deeper at your words, "I'm fucking yours, idiot."
Jungkook's hips stutter as your words catch him off guard, cracking his cocky persona for a millisecond before he recovers and grips the meat of your thighs even harder and drills back into you. You're fucking dripping at this point, and Jungkook groans at the feeling. His cock drags the juices out of your hole, and he watches as it slides down your ass, filthily pooling at the sheets beneath you.
You can't do anything but reach your hands out, and he understands immediately, releasing the hold on your legs before leaning down and falling into your arms. Your hands are on the back of his neck as you pull him closer, needing to feel his full weight on top of you in hopes of it taking some of the pressure off your abused cunt. He doesn't stop, even when his face falls to the side of your neck, plastering soft, wet kisses to your skin and pulling a soft moan from you.
Tears are welling in your eyes as he continues snapping his hips into you; the new position you're in means he's permanently in contact with your clit, and it's brutal. The room begins to spin as the familiar feeling coils in your stomach harder than you think it ever has. "I'm so fucking close," he heaves into your neck, and all you can respond with is a nod, the tears that pool at your waterline threatening to spill.
Your hands fall from his hair to his back, fingernails digging into his smooth skin as you try to cling to the last string of coherence you have, "cum in me, Gguk. Fill me up. Fill me." You moan, fingernails dragging down his back just how he likes it, and that's his fucking end. A low growl leaves his lips, goosebumps flooding your arms at the noise. 
"Fuck." He curses loudly, hips pulling back in one final shaky thrust before he pushes all the way, your walls clenching tightly around him as he convulses, his release spilling from him and painting the walls of your cunt. He moans tenderly as you milk his cock, trying to pull every last drop of his orgasm from him.
Ten seconds or so pass while you both catch your breath, and you smile giddily beneath him; his heavy body feels comforting on top of you, like your own weighted blanket. You're ready to roll off the bed once he recovers, your hand drawing lazy circles across the expanse of his back before you hear him let out a deep, heaved breath. Lifting his hips back up, he ruts gently, resuming his movement inside of you. Your eyebrows furrow in shock, ignoring the burning feeling that immediately resurfaces as he shifts, "No, Jungkook, you don't have to—" He cuts you off with a kiss, hand reaching up to caress your cheek in a much softer manner than the majority of your night.
"When have I ever not let you cum?" He muses after breaking the kiss, his thumb slipping from the edge of your jaw to press against your lips. Your heart is beating at the fucking sweetheart above you, your lips parting slightly to take in the finger of his inked, calloused hand into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around it, gathering as much spit onto it as you can, just as he taught you, before using your tongue to push it out of your mouth. He smirks at the action, shaking his head as a train of saliva runs from his hand to your mouth. "Fucking filthy," Jungkook hums, his hand falling between you and connecting to your clit before the spit falls off his thumb.
Not that he needed the extra moisture, because you are fucking soaked, he flicks at your nub gently, satisfied as you shudder slightly at the contact. His overstimulated cock pulses inside you, the heat of your pussy making him release a strained breath before he pulls back out and begins to fuck you again. You can't even be shocked at his stamina at this point, many nights before having proven that he is fucking insatiable, pulling four of five orgasms out of you before turning in.
It doesn't take long before you're teetering on the edge of bliss again; the crude sounds of Jungkook's cum inside you, squelching around his cock as he slides in and out of you, are fucking erotic, arousing you even further. "Listen to thattttt," he groans at the noise, his overstimulation long forgotten as he gets lost in you again. 
"Oh," you cry at his nasty words, "my shit. Shit. Shit. Shit!" You can't even form a sensible sentence, the pleasure becoming too much. Your back lifts off the bed slightly as Jungkook's hand follows your cunt when it tries to cower away. "God! Please!" You wail as his hand slips, the juices coming out of you causing his hand to slide around messily. He chuckles at the absolutely filthy sight; it's the best thing he's ever fucking seen.
"Good fucking girl. My gooood. Fucking. Girl." He praises as you grip his bedsheets in anguish, your body shaking, breath stuck in your throat as your head lifts toward the ceiling. Your mouth drops open as the band breaks, the tears that were sitting idle beneath your lashes finally spilling out, a loud sob spewing through your lips as you cum. Your orgasm is intense, ears ringing as Jungkook drags it out as much as he possibly can before you're shrivelling away, falling back into his mattress in exhaustion.
You groan lowly as Jungkook slowly pulls himself out of you, grabbing the shirt he discarded halfway through your activity off the floor and using it to capture the liquid that drools out of you. You giggle at the sight, swatting him with your foot as he wipes, "That's disgusting," you cry at his use of a dirty t-shirt to clean you up.
"It's clean! I chucked it on just before you came in," he assures with a smirk, continuing his action and ignoring the eye-roll you throw him. Then, suddenly, your eyes widen, and you all but scramble off his bed, diving for your clothes on the ground before shoving them over your head. He laughs softly at your haste before pulling his own sweatpants back on, minus the underwear. He's about to head to the shower, an invitation to you dangling on the tip of his tongue as he watches you fix your hair and makeup in his mirror. He watches in amusement as you manage to tame your hair but fail to fix the smudged eyeliner at the root of your waterline, giving up with a huff and looking over to him with a teasing glare, "This is your fault."
His shoulders rise slightly, and his mouth is pulled into a faux pout when you deliver a soft smack to his arm, making your way to his bedroom door. He turns to finally head into his ensuite and shower before your strangled gasp meets his ears. He spins around quickly, confusion coating his features before his eyes trail to what you're fixated on.
Taehyung is sitting on the couch, legs crossed beneath him, AirPods in his ears as he munches on a slice of pizza. Your brother looks up when he feels your presence and nods in greeting. Then, fishing one of the earbuds from his ear, he waves the piece of the pie in his hand toward you. You're frozen in your spot, every word in your vocabulary flying out of your head as you're rendered speechless. Your brother pauses the show on his phone before swallowing his mouthful, "Pizza's here."
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part two out now💗: click here
5K notes · View notes
solarmorrigan · 3 months
Text
Written for Day 3 of @steddie-week
Prompt: Mutual Pining | Rated: E | Additional Tags: Modern AU, Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy, Hypothetical Top!Eddie/Bottom!Steve
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Need more trope reversal with gay!Steve and still-thinks-he's-straight!Eddie obliviously pining after each other
Like, Eddie isn't into guys, but it's fine that Steve is. It's cool! Eddie is super supportive! He even helps vet Steve's dates. And whatever anyone (coughRobincough) says, he is not overly invested in Steve's love life. Sure, he might judge potential partners a little harshly, but it's for one of his best friends! Steve is great, and he deserves the best; it's not Eddie's fault so many guys fail to live up to standards.
Meanwhile, Steve is quietly dying, because he's been into Eddie since forever, but Eddie is straight, and he has to sit there and listen to Eddie extol his virtues and talk about how he deserves someone great while not being romantically interested in him whatsoever. But Steve also never claimed he isn't pathetic, so he'll take what he can get; maybe dating a guy who Eddie deems worthy will be almost as good as getting to be with Eddie himself?
Anyway, that train wreck is happening, and it all sort of comes to a head one night when Steve comes home to their shared apartment from yet another date, visibly frustrated and a bit disappointed, and Eddie isn't one to say I Told You So (much), but he had told Steve so. He'd said he hadn't liked the look of the guy's profile picture; Eddie has a sense about these things.
But still, he asks, "Bad date?"
Steve shrugs. "It wasn't- terrible."
"Oh, high praise."
"Well, it wasn't!" Steve gives a little laugh. "I mean, he was... nice."
"He bored you, didn't he?" Eddie can't help himself. "I told you he would be boring, who uses a picture of themselves in a suit for their profile on a dating app?"
"He wasn't boring, he was just- nice," Steve hedges. "A little too nice."
Eddie raises his brows. "Like... suspiciously nice?"
"No, not- we just weren't compatible," Steve says, still frustratingly vague.
Eddie is silent, staring at Steve, willing him to go on.
"In bed," Steve finally elaborates with a sigh. "The sex sucked, man."
"Ah." Eddie nods sagely. And then, because - okay, not because he's overly invested in Steve's love life, thank you very much, but because he's a good friend, right? And a good ally. And - yes, fine, he's also a little curious, sue him, but because of all of that, he asks, "You don't like 'em nice?"
Steve snorts. "I'm not saying I like people to be mean, it's just - I mean, it's kinda hot, you know? Having a guy who can push me around a little - take over so I don't have to think. Like, people just kind of assume I want to be in charge, that I'm gonna take over and-" Steve shakes his head, "I dunno, that's just not really what I'm into."
Eddie nods; this is definitely important information that he needs to have, obviously, if he's going to help Steve find The Perfect Guy. And he can't imagine why anyone wouldn't want to give Steve exactly what he wants - he would be so pretty, pressed into the mattress, clutching at the sheets, scrambling for purchase, for a way to channel the pleasure as he gets fucked. Who wouldn't want that?
Like, objectively. Objectively, Steve is an attractive guy, anyone can see that, so objectively he'd probably look hot while getting railed within an inch of his life. That's just science. Surely any guy who also likes guys would be into that.
Eddie realizes he's maybe been silent for too long. "So you're a pillow princess, huh?" he teases, trying to will away the image he's got in his head of Steve begging for some guy's cock, faster, harder-
"Fuck off." Steve gives Eddie a shove, but he's laughing a little. "I am not. I'm definitely not opposed to doing some work to get what I want."
The Steve in Eddie's head that for some reason won't go away shifts from arching his back while on his hands and knees to sitting in some probably undeserving guy's lap, riding him like a fucking pro, head thrown back in ecstasy, and Eddie very much needs to go now, needs to go address the completely unavoidable boner that's come up because they're talking about sex. That's just what happens sometimes. Unavoidably. Totally normal.
"Well, I'll keep that in mind. While we're hunting for your dream guy, I mean," Eddie says quickly, levering himself up off the couch and making for his bedroom as quickly as he can without being suspicious. "Sorry the date was a dud. We'll find your man, though, Stevie, despair not!"
He barely catches a glimpse of the odd look Steve is shooting him before he shuts his bedroom door. He can't think too much on it, because his brain is busy with other things - things like initiating the most confusing jerk-off session of Eddie's life.
But they were just talking about Steve and his preferences in bed, alright? It doesn't have to mean anything that Eddie's suddenly imagining it's his lap that Steve could be bouncing in, whining and crying out as Eddie thrusts up into him, hitting him just right. It doesn't have to mean anything that he imagines putting Steve on his back, imagines Steve's legs wrapped around his waist, imagines holding Steve's hips so hard he leaves finger-shaped bruises, imagines fucking Steve until he's sobbing and still begging for more, because Eddie understands what Steve needs, Eddie can give him what he wants--
It doesn't have to mean anything that Eddie comes harder into the slick clutch of his fist, imagining it's Steve's tight ass, than he has in ages.
It doesn't have to mean anything, but Eddie gets the feeling that maybe it does.
And shit, he may have to do some self reflection.
(Meanwhile, if Steve retires to his own room to have some private time with his favorite toy, fucking himself like he wishes Eddie would, shoving his own fingers in his mouth to keep from calling out his name, that's his business. And if he didn't admit to Eddie that the biggest reason the date had sucked had simply been because the date wasn't him, well - that's Steve's business, too.)
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tremendum · 2 years
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heyy, can you write din djarin x reader where she's smth like a princess and he's hired as her bodyguard by her father or brother whatever you want (I know this is basic plot but can't help it 😭) tysm❤️🥰
i got u babes! its cute ive never written something like this but i hope u like it!! <3 its fluffier than anything ive really written to tysm for the request! also this is NOT PROOF READ im sorry
after midnight
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(gif not mine!)  pairing: din djarin x fem!reader (afab, use of terms like princess/duchess/daughter)   rating: explicit.  (18+. mdni.)     word count: 6.2k summary: “you were... a princess. you were untouchable, and he knows better than to fall for one of his jobs. so he'd made a tower of armor to protect him from any attraction; but with every passing day he spent in your company, you happened to slip through those cracks like you were made for it.”  warnings: mentions of political unrest/uprisings, reader resents their parents/family because monarchy is BAD folks, threats of death, but smut (PiV, unprotected), mutual masturbation (m&f), teasing, light themes of possession at one point, mentions of eating. cumplay/creampie. i think that's it.
★  
YOU are no stranger to fear. 
it's been a gently lived life for you, in your several decades orbiting the power of your parents' suns.
the duchess of your family's system, the 'Prize Jewel' your mother loves to say; the one who got the love of the people but sought none of the power. 
you weren't the heir, not to the throne: that duty fell unto your younger brother, as per custom tradition. so you were coaxed into a life of sitting around, humming as your ladies in waiting braided your strands, staring longingly as your brother wielded blasters and vibro-blades; as if that is what constituted a good ruler. 
so perhaps the fear you've grown accustomed to is the fear of the mirrors that so delicately lined your chambers; the mirror that appears on your own face as any noble speaks to you, as your father commanded you to embark on diplomatic missions that should be left to those who have any stake in the future of the system. the mirror which constricts any true personality or truth from presenting you to the galaxy. you were the duchess, your parents' daughter; you were not yourself. 
you'd never gone off world, to either of the other planets in the crown's domain - until the day you did. 
that kind of fear was different. 
the tumultuous tracks of your heartbeat when that creaking drop ramp was sealed, those days ago; the footsteps that rang out like funeral chimes as the tall Mandalorian bowed his head to you before escorting you upwards into the cockpit of the ship that was to take you to the other side of the system.  
you were not, though, afraid of him. 
Mando had been your shadow for several months before you left on your enterprise - you were no longer frightened by the cold, sharp angles of his body, the dark rumbling of his scarce voice. now, that same low hum as he listens to you is welcomed. encouraged. sought for. 
no, the fear was from something else; there was a scratching, a slow but insistent simmering that tightened the muscles of your lower back and your upper neck until you woke up in sharp gasps of discomfort.
maybe the fear was in the winding hills that turned into mountains, jagging up and into the sky; your fear clung to you even as you lifted your legs and climbed over top of them - those towers to the sky - and settled yourself with the acknowledge that your parents had sent you on this diplomatic embarkment to a hostile insurgence group with nothing more than the Mandalorian bodyguard and a datapad containing an ultimatum which was surely the fuse to the ticking bomb of your family's dominating sovereignty. the crashing of a scepter, or the squashing of a bug. 
thankfully your father, in all of his Majesty's grace and wisdom, had offered you a full set of your Ladies of the Household on your journey - as if they'd protect you from blaster fire, or kidnapping, or whatever joys may have lied in wait for you once you reached the rebel territory. 
and he knows you are highly mistrusting of those parasitic Mynocks he calls the Kingsguard; that was in fact the sole reason he'd hired the Mandalorian to be your personal guard.
so your father at least had the sense not to call upon the lord commander to escort you, as it would be likely you'd either be dead come nightfall or your cot would be empty come morning rise. 
so he'd insisted on only the Mandalorian instead. 
a fiercely dauntless man, a walking shield, as clever as he is dangerous. 
after seeing him fight, there was no doubt Mando could protect you from hundreds if he needed to. 
there was a stint by another insurgent rebel group, of which your family was battling many currently; they'd made threats on your life, so Mando has shown up with a personal arsenal and enough intimidation to make any man fall to his knees.
it took all of thirty seconds of staring at his figure, hearing his voice, to decide you'd fall to your knees for him, too.
and just before you were ordered to visit the duke of the defecting planet, you were informed he would be replacing the four kingsguard subordinated to Mando who usually escorted you around the kingdom.
one man instead of five? you were sure the King was finally sending you to your death, punishing you for his lifelong regret that you'd not been a son. 
but you soon came to like Mando and his stoic, taciturn presence. 
and at least your instructions were simply to deliver the ultimatum and leave the atmosphere within the hour; the insurgent's strategists would not, as your father and his Hand had believed, have enough time to read through the full terms before deciding they should just break into the duchess's chambers and slit her throat anyways. 
you escaped the planet with nothing but a blaster shot grazing Mando's side and the hate of an entire species of oppressed constituents hurling insults at the Crown.
no slit throat for you - but in the end, you wouldn't even blame them if they'd tried. 
you know, now, that your fear clouded your eyes, as bright as they may have been back when Mando was hired as your bodyguard. but they grew thick, the clouds lifting into the stratosphere and slipping into Mando's helmet with the modulated, quiet inhales you've come to know almost as your own. you don't think he ever intended to frighten you.
he was there to protect you. and he has. 
he has not left you since arriving to the midway planet, where you'll stay for a few days before returning back to your kingdom planet.
here, there is fresh air, the salt of the sea, deep ripe fruits, and warm breezes. there is no fear here, only heat. 
Mando helps with that, though he won't let you admit it. 
as you stare at that unwavering gaze, surrounded by the gilded intricacies of the farewell feast, all you can do is imagine him. Mando, his body on yours, that cold, heavy metal against the thrill of your heated bare skin. he tilts his head slightly at you; you wink at him over your cup of wine. the man next to you makes conversation about your father's latest agriculture subsidies.
you look back to find the relaxing - bone chilling- gaze on you still. you wonder if he'll crack before you do. 
there have been close calls; once, when you'd drank a bit too much ale in the city square and Mando had carried you back to the keep, tucked you into bed as you tried to pull him in with you - you should stay, Mando - the time he'd agreed to teach you to spar and you'd ended up wide-eyed and pinned beneath his very sturdy frame. 
you've seen the pressure on his flightsuit beneath those layers when you'd teased him - his own admission of guilt, that he feels something for you, too.
when you'd asked him to help you shoot a blaster, when you'd left the fresher open to shower, or not particularly covering up when you prepared yourself for the day. though he was always there, always at attention for the slightest danger. 
even last night, you felt the stuttering in his breaths when you'd sat on your bed, staring down at him - his hand in the nook of your knee, the other unlacing your sandals that'd crawled up your supple calves the entire day. you'd felt his leather hands brush against the soft skin of your thigh, the way that helmet had stared up at you from between your legs. at your service. 
you know he could see the way you jolted when he'd place his hands on your hips in passing, or how you'd get particularly flustered at the flip of a blaster trigger, the flex of a muscle under a flightsuit. you didn't try to hide your attraction to him. 
but all of those things; those moments you had - even the subtle brushes of his hand just low enough on your lower back, the smiles you'd share even with the barrier of his cold beskar, the soft conversations you'd hold just between the two of you: all, under the soft shadows of the moons which orbit you. 
never in the broad daylight.
those souvenirs, the ones which you held close to your heart in the last few weeks, high up in the pews of your heart's cathedral; all idolized yet forgotten with the mornings that rise in clean beskar glinting and sleep rubbing from your eyes.  
-- 
DIN is sure you're looking straight through him.
those eyes; you're coy the way you look at him now, over the meal you eat at the table. 
swirling with mischief. 
that trouble-making look, the one he's studied for months as your personal guard. to the constituents of your family's crown, you were the sweet, young girl destined to marry away and sire many noble children. but behind palace doors, you were alive, you were a bolt of electricity that was never to be tamped down.
Din remembers how fiery you'd been when the King had ordered Mando to escort you to the insurgents with your Ladies of the House. you'd requested they not accompany you in this formidable expedition because, as he recalls you'd said, 'how can my bodyguard spare to protect not me but also ten others? shall we just get it over with and behead us all right here?' 
he'd smiled behind that helmet when the King and Queen had heard your snippy tongue.
and so it was just you and him, as it'd been for months. and he likes it that way, as much as he would never admit that; you're a kind woman, much too old to be under the reigns of your parent's power but too caught in the web of bureaucracy to untangle yourself from it. 
Din sees you tilt your head at him, blatantly ignoring the conversation at the table. heat courses through him at your adamant, keen attention on him despite him likely being the least worthy of your thoughts in this room. still, as always, you tease him. 
a drop of a wink; syrupy, sweet, and much too indecent for the public space; much less for you to deliver towards your personal guard. he burns red under the helmet, heat rushing down towards his groin at the way your lips move around the spoon in your mouth. 
you know he's watching you, of course; he's always watching you. it's in the job description. 
maybe that's the problem: he watches too much. it's always been hard for him to remain simply professional with you, but it's been much more challenging the last few nights as he's tried to get a few hours of shut-eye in the dead of night; with your sweet soft breaths on that large, plush bed that nearly swallows you whole. 
it's been excruciating - watching, as you run your hands over your bare legs, kissed by a sweet silk nightgown. massaging your plush skin, slipping just above the hem before dipping down - your lashes fluttering up at him as he stands tall and at attention over you. 
he was a dead man, and he'd known it the moment he laid eyes on you.
you were... a princess. you were untouchable, and he knows better than to fall for one of his jobs. so he'd made a tower of armor to protect him from any attraction; but with every passing day he spent in your company, you happened to slip through those cracks like you were made for it. 
he wonders if the true tragedy after all was his not watching: although you'd left the crack in the door when you'd stepped into the fresher last night, toweling off your soft skin as steam curls round the doorframe and pulls at him like the tentacles of some lust-ridden beast. you'd given him one of those coy smiles last night as you'd slinked out of the fresher: "thought you said you were always watching, Mando." 
you had him wrapped around your dainty, manicured finger and you knew it.
your brows raise at him as you look back up to where he stands, just on the other side of the table, as the diplomats around you at the table buttering you up with a glass of wine, a divine feast, and fancy political phrases. 
it doesn't suit you, as you've claimed to him countless times as you strip the bangled gold from your neck, ears, fingers, thighs and slip into something a little more comfortable and a lot less modest. it doesn't really suit you, he guesses. he likes you much more in the throes of your casual time; wearing trousers and a tunic, blaster strapped to your thigh though you don't quite know how to wield it. when you have no handmaidens to primp you and pluck you, to comb their fingers through your hair or paint fancy colors onto your eyelids. you were heavenly like that, in your most comfortable state. 
that word; heavenly. the word sounds adolescent, when he looks at you.
you transcend beauty; you're alive, you're nothing but yourself, a woman with life and regret that her world bore her name long before she was born. you told him, as he escorted you through the war-torn scrappings of the insurgent city the day before, that you wished to be free from the chains of royalty. to the royal court, you were nothing but a mirror for them to project their desires. 
when you look up at him with those tempting eyes, smirking at him when nobody at the table is looking - Maker, Din swears he will throw away everything he's worked so hard to keep professional. 
-- 
YOU had pulled the best of the feast onto your napkin once you bid the hosts thanks for the feast, hiding it under the layers of your gown as Mando walked you back to your chambers. 
"I kept you some." you offer meekly now, heat painting your face as you offer the spread to him, having taken off your shoes yourself this time. he'd kept his sight on you the whole time, the visor of his beskar piercing you with each movement. 
his helmet tilts in question; you spread open the napkin to reveal the small feast of delicacies you'd packed for him. you wonder how he'd missed it, when his eyes were always on you. 
"you shouldn't have." he's demure in tone, shifting from his casual position leaning against one of the stone pillars near the intricate dressing screen to standing evenly on both long legs; you smile gently, heart fluttering. 
"I thought you deserved some of the feast." you reason, "you did more work than I did, after all." you grin, shrugging a shoulder. you feel the fabric slide over your bare shoulder and it brushes against you like a feather; a ghost of lips that could never be blessed upon your skin. 
cursed to always lie in weight under the heavy support of beskar. 
but his fingers; they're a different story. 
they're gentle, tingling as they brush up the expanse of your deltoid, cascading with a buttery kind touch to return your dress to its rightful place. his hand, swallowed by the leather that protects you so devotedly, trails down your arms, soothing every goosebump that rises in its path. your hand catches his wrist before he can pull away; the tantalizing, intoxicating air in the room rendering him languid as you pull, gently, until your lips press gently to the tip of his thumb.
his breath falters in a staccato as you gently, tenderly press kisses to the tips of each finger; each, a promise. an unnamed affection for the man who does nothing but protect, nothing but exhilarate. the movement feels like the stretch of a plastic band, stretching the tensile strength of your aptitude for waiting, for restraining yourselves. 
you wait with baited breath for it to snap in your faces. 
it doesn't, though. his hand falls away gently, leaving you to still orbit around each other like lonely stars, crossing paths every few blue moons. 
when he speaks, he sounds almost strained. "thank you, ner cyar'ika. you are kind." 
your cheeks are warm and they heat up more when you smile up at him. and this time when you step away into the fresher, you make sure the door is fully closed. 
the water is warm, curling tendrils of milky sweet oils that bathe your skin in a sweet, plush aroma. you return to the main room slowly after you bathe, ensuring he'll have enough time to return his helmet to its proper place before you see. you wring your hair out with your hands as Mando rises from where he sat on the loveseat; his full height shining that reflective metal against you. your warped, clean, scrubbed reflection stares back at you. 
he.... he sees you. 
you've always noticed it; maybe that's why you'd commanded your father's men to leave you at the first sight of the Mandalorian's skills - you see a lot of yourself in him. a life concealed behind the preceding reputation: a princess - young, beautiful, generous, stagnant. a Mandalorian - bounty-hunter-turned-guard, sturdy, resourceful, rough. 
mirrors follow you no matter where you go. they've been thrust upon you your entire life, every snaking hallway of the kingdom winding down reflective images of your youth, bouncing you from person to person, nothing but a blank canvas for the aristocracy to paint their whims upon. 
you suspect, as you stare at Mando's unwaveringly reflective armor, that he understands that more than either of you could know. your heart soars with affection as you pad up to him, craning your neck to take in his entire height. 
"did you enjoy it?" you ask with a small smile, combing your fingers through your wet hair. he nods, "yes, cyare. thank you." 
you shake your head, unburdened by the gesture of gratitude. "let me guess- your favorite was the..." you pinch your chin with your fingers, scrunching your nose as you pretend to think. "chocolate cake." you say finally, tilting your head as you try to gage his reaction. 
a tilt of a helmet, flickering in the candlelight of your chambers. "yes." he sounds surprised; as if you didn't know just as much about him as he knew of himself. it sparks butterflies in your stomach. 
"I know you like it sweet, Mando." you tease, sending him a soft wink as you set your face cloth down on the table he leans against; you stare up at him from this angle, your movements molasses as you smile, hand sneaking around his ribs to hold him lightly. his hand rises tentatively to steady your waist, thumb rubbing the satin of your nightgown. "don't worry, I do too." you whisper. 
he sighs. 
it's a soft, gentle thing; one that nobody would dare imagine your big, bad Mandalorian protector to ever release. but you know him. you see him - Mando is many things, and one of them is hesitant. not unwilling, or shy: hesitant. 
(you'd wait a thousand lifetimes for him.)
"cyar'ika," he starts, tone slipping into that gently warning one - the kind he gets when he's feeling bashful. "I don't like it when you tease me." he chides, and it's - kriff, it's playful. you can almost see the grin behind that helmet; his fingers pinch at your sides gently and you screech with laughter, swatting away his touch but hoping he'll soon return it, much like a magnet. 
"you do, though." you defend, emboldened by the privacy and the budding tenderness that coaxes you into his arms. his hands soothe over your hips as you stare in silence.
warmth surrounds you; coaxes you to mutter it-
"stay with me, tonight?" you whisper, eyes wide at your own words, shocked you'd finally given in to all of the hunger that has swirled between you for all this time.  his helmet tilts. "I am always here with you. my job is to watch you." he says gently, the lilt of guilt ever present in his voice.
you shake your head, eyes shutting in frustration - not at him, never - at who, then? your father? your mother? the last name you've been cursed with for your life? the privilege, the restraint? 
"Mando." you say, pressing your palms flat against his chest. "you know what I mean." your eyes swirl with emotion: please, Mando, I can't keep waiting like this. 
he waits. "it would be wrong." 
you tilt your head, "it wouldn't." but you, much like him, are at a loss for words. a life of inoculation has rendered you unable to express any semblance of amorous emotions, even to this man - the one who is your confidant, your protector, and possibly your only true friend in this world. "I need you. I will-" you swallow, your heart thundering with desire, "I will do anything for you, Mando."  
you can't resist the growing wetness in the apex of your thighs as his helmet moves over your figure, wrapped in a silky robe and still wet from bathing. he hums lowly, a long and slow sound, his head tilting ever so slightly as you clench your thighs in search of relief from the growing pressure. 
"I have wanted you since I met you." he sighs, hands falling from your shoulders. "but... I shouldn't touch you." 
-- 
DIN can see your eyes flicker down as he says it. 
maker damn you; you've always been too clever for him. he sees the hunger swirl in your blown out pupils, the same hunger that plagues his mind and has sent blood rushing downwards. he feels himself throb as you grin up at him, lashes fluttering as a droplet of silky water trails down the expanse of your bare, awaiting neck. 
you know him, you see him. and he thanks all of the stars that you know how badly he needs you, too. 
"well, if you can't touch..." you tilt your head to stare up at him through your lashes, loosening the robe which covers your silk nightgown; each inch that slips down your body, Din feels himself stiffen and heat with desire. "...you can at least watch." you whisper, letting the robe drop before you step back from his figure; his eyes trace over every curve, each smooth line and jagged bump. 
when you're far enough away, he lets out a shaky breath. "gar Kelir ruin ni, dala" he mutters to himself, swallowing thickly as your figure slinks away from him, traipsing onto your plush bed.
his heart thunders in his chest; you lie on your back, gently, eyes meeting his somehow through the shield of beskar as you move your hands slowly, slowly up your legs. silk catches on your deft fingers as you tease yourself, sighing in relaxation. 
Din, standing rigid as a pole as he watches you, cannot look away. you seem flushed, even as your fingers trail over your breasts, toying with the pert nipples which poke through the smooth fabric of your dress. a whimper; high-pitched, breathy as your eyes splinter to Din again. "fuck," you whisper, one hand dragging down to torturously drag the hem of your gown upwards, up, up- 
he's salivating. 
your thighs, plush and welcoming, spread as you spread your glistening cunt for Din to see. for him, he realizes, only for him. a dark wash of possession shudders his whole being as you let out a whimper, the cool air hitting your wet, hot heat as your fingers start to spread your juices; it takes every ounce of restraint from Din to not just pounce on you, take you right now. 
your finger finds your swelling clit and your strangled groan sounds too much like his name - your eyes are hooded, littered with desire and pleasure as you lie out on display for him. 
he can't help but watch; his cheeks, hot. his hands, clenched - his heart, thundering, beating hard as Din watches you touch yourself with hungry eyes. your moans are smooth, melodic to his ears as you slowly dip one finger into your heat, whimpering as the stretch as your greedy little hole swallows you up. 
he can't stand it. 
Din takes a step forward, a staggering, desperate step towards the bed- your eyes snap up from where they'd watched you take your own fingers, eyes blown wide. you whimper, you goddamn whimper it, "M-Mando." 
--
YOU almost pass out when he mutters it, low and baritone. 
"take it off." Mando mutters darkly. 
you stop your languid pumps as you stare up at him, eyes wide as you see him, now looming just over you, eyes trained still on your heat. 
slowly, you sit to peel the dress off of yourself, the material catching on your nipples and sending a shiver down your body. 
you're soon bare; laid out for him, your entire body on display for him as you stare up, chest heaving with desire. his helmet does not leave your form as he watches your hand snake back down, toying with your wetness as it pools out of you, dripping onto the mattress below you. 
there are thousands of things you wish to say; nothing escapes you except whimpers and moans, the muted, heated pleasure swirling through you as you slip your fingers into yourself, pumping languidly. if you close your eyes, you can almost imagine the bite of cold beskar on your bare chest; the thickness of a warm cock slipping through you. 
your eyes stay on him instead, though; the reflection of your squirming, pleasured body on his beskar. you feel sweat sheen your forehead. 
your heart nearly stops as Mando slowly starts to palm himself; his cock, hard and strained against the fabric of his flightsuit as his hands pull himself out of the pants. your eyes widen and your fingers start to pump into you quicker, moaning out Mando's name as his hand slowly starts to pump himself. 
his cock, skin golden and veins prominent as he pleasures himself to the sight of you. arousal floods around your fingers as your other finger falls to lazily toy with your neglected clit. one hand grasps your breast and pinches a pert nipple, your back arching as you whimper. 
you need Mando, you need him. 
"fuck, fuckfuckfuck M-Mando, I need you. i-it's not enough, need more." you groan, the dam breaking as the low high you've been riding simmers. 
he stops his own movements, his chest heaving beneath the beskar. 
"I don't-" you swallow around your dry throat, "I don't think I can cum without you." you admit, heart thundering as you stare up at the beskar wall. "please." 
he pauses and your words hand in the air; suspended by a string, one that is tight and ready to snap. 
"stand up, princess." he orders.
--
DIN almost smiles at the speed at which you scramble on eager legs, to stand up, staring up at him with wanton need. he takes a deep breath before one hand reaches out to graze the swell of your breast; the plush give of soft skin, the goosebumps that trail behind his touch. his cock twitches as your hands find him, pumping slowly as you bite your lip. 
he groans at the soft feeling of your gentle hands around his thickness; your lips grazing over his beskar chestplate. 
his hands tug you as he falls to the mattress; a squeal leaves you as your hands grip onto his shoulders, "Mando!" 
he grins beneath the helmet. 
the smile slowly fades into a grunt of pleasure as you eagerly find your place straddling his hips; your wet hot cunt envelopes his cock with your slick, rubbing him as you whimper. "fuck, cyar'ika." he grunts. "gonna fuck you nice and good. promise." he mutters. 
you smile as you nod, "maker, Mando. I've-I've dreamt of this." you mutter. he smirks- he knows you have. he's heard it. 
but the pride is soon washed away with shock and pleasure as you line his head up at your entrance, easing onto him gently; his hands squeeze your bare skin and he wishes he could pull his gloves off and really feel you. 
dank ferrik, you are so tight around him; swallowing his thickness in your greedy cunt as your breath stutters, gasping at the stretch. you're hot, wet, and Din's eyes shut tight at the feeling. kriff, he won't last long. 
you take him gently, slowly, and all Din can do is breathe through it and resist his hips from bucking upwards and spearing you into two.
his brain is a puddle as you fully sheath yourself on him, thighs plush and shaking as you swallow him. 
"that's good." he mutters, breath shaky, his hands guiding you to move against his hips, "how does it feel, princess?" 
"Mando, fuck, y'so big, filling me-" you're moaning and he thinks he may pass out; heavenly, heavenly, you you you- 
you groan as you start to fuck yourself on top of him, your gummy warm walls coaxing Din towards his high, having been spurred along by the pleasure you'd been giving yourself earlier. 
you shudder at the curling sensuality of his words and he can feel you gripping him tighter and tighter, pulsing around him and dragging him down with you into the depths of pleasure. shivers of pleasure coast down your entire body as Din starts to piston up, his thick length, smooth and hard, spearing into your hot cunt. your desire drips down and smothers the fabric of his flight suit; briefly, he thinks he will never wash them again. your breath is laborious as you near your high- Din chases his, too, because this has already gone on for too long and he's greedy, as greedy as your tight, pretty cunt is and- 
he lets out a splintering moan when you cum with a scream; your legs quivering, weakening as you slump against him. Din fucks you through your high with a moan of his own, pushing up into your pulsing pussy, the wetness easing him to spear into you with a fire of ecstasy. 
"good- you're so good, y'feel so good, Mando," you whimper. that's it for him - he cums with a long groan, release snapping through him with a moan of your name. 
he sees colors, shapes of you in a meadow, spread on a blanket with him taking you from above; with you riding him in the cockpit of his ship; you, thighs spread on your father's throne while he delves his tongue through your plush folds. 
you are his. you will always be his, nobody else's. he will consume you.
he fucks up into you as he rides through his high, his seed smearing your chanel as he holds you close. "fuck," he mutters, rolling you both onto your sides as his hand caresses your cheek. 
"s'good." you mumble, smiling at him. 
he smiles back. you can't see it, but he knows you can feel it. 
"m'not done with you yet, princess." he promises, tugging you towards the edge of the bed, spreading your legs to see his own seed leaking out of you, mixed with your own wet, sticky spend. it's a sight better than any he's ever seen; shivers of desire roll down Din's spine. 
and then Din spends his time on top of you, pulling orgasm and orgasm from you until you're crying, shaking and heaving breaths; he's shaky, drunk from the pleasure of your wet arousal. he aches to taste you, to coax you to sleep with his tongue lapping up your spend; he needs to taste you. 
perhaps, another time. 
he soothes himself for now with his fingers, his cock; another time, he will taste you. 
--- 
YOU are exhausted. you can barely stay awake; but as Mando lays with you between the sheets, you can't help but feel so alive. the sun starts to creep towards the horizon line, over the shimmering sea; the gentle breeze of the world flowing through the faint curtains. 
"Mando?"
he cranes to look down at you, his thumb tracing over your spine.
"in the morning," you start, your hand trailing over his beskar. you figure it isn't comfortable to don this armor in the plush of your mattress; he stays no matter, willing to give you what you want. always, whatever you want. forever.
him.
you chew your lip, "will we- I mean, I just..." 
a thumb, warm though marred with old leather, pulls your lower lip from the clutches of your pearled teeth, soothing over the plush, bitten skin. a shiver runs down your spine as he coaxes you to stare up into that endless helmet. 
"what is it, mesh'la?" his voice is deep and soothing in its modulated baritone. you preen at the nickname in his native tongue and though he has willingly taught you words and phrases of his language, you are unsure of this one's translation. it sounds lovely coming from him. 
"please don't take me back." you whisper. 
he tenses under you; you can feel it. you wish you didn't have to plague him with your burdens of asking him such a crime; to take the duchess, the girl made of nothing but stardust, and give her the life she deserves. 
a whisper of your name. quiet, an exhale gentle and barely picked up by the modulation function of the helmet. 
--
DIN has been waiting for you to say it.
he wonders just about when he realized you were going to ask him to take you away. was it just now, after you'd finally connected in bliss? was it last night, when he'd taken a blaster shot to protect you - his job, of course, but a lifetime of debt to repay to him, you'd claimed - or, perhaps, was it all those months ago? 
your words pull him from his shock as you mutter softly.
"would you take me with you? away?" 
all the moments shared between your two souls wait with baited breath as Din tries to find his words through his thundering heart. 
"in the morning..." he parrots your words from before, but with a different tone. regret. his heart thumps as you tilt your head, bare shoulder glinting in the light of the moons. "will you still want that? will you want..." he doesn't finish the question, but he doesn't have to. not with you.  want me? 
you look at him with eyes so soft he almost melts. "I've always dreamt of leaving my life. it's not who I am." you're firm in your words, hand curling over his shoulder as you blink, "I never thought I would act on it. I had nothing to do, nowhere else to go. but now..." you shrug and he starts to feel hot at the implications in your voice. 
Din's heart thuds importunately under your sweet palm; could you feel it, under all the layers that separated his body from your bare one? 
"if-if you'd have me... it'd be a dream to stay with you. wherever you go." 
Din can't breathe; so many words burst to the forefront of his mind, but all he does is stare in awe. 
you'd been watching life through the jail of your parent's grasp your whole life; and what is the princess of a mid-rim planet to the rest of the galaxy? 
stardust.
"wasted dreams?" you ask softly, shaking your head, "that's worse than death, Mando." 
-- 
YOU fall asleep with Mando's arms wrapped tightly around your middle; the weight of beskar pushing you deeper into the comfort of knowing you've spent your last night ever in this system. 
his words echo in your head. 
in the morning, mesh'la, we will leave here. wherever you'd like. 
it's illicit; the things you're about to do, the traditions which will be seared. your eyes, bleary with exhaustion and hope, looks to the mirror across the room.
you lie in the arms of the Mandalorian, bare besides the plush sheets which wrap around your figures - and when you stare into the reflective piece of decor directly across, it's you who stares back in the reflection. you smile to yourself.
stardust.
those moments, you hope, will shine in broad daylight now in tandem with the sweet secrets after midnight. 
-
taglist: @silkiers @toobsessedsstuff @millersdjarin @tizylish @cloufire @kalea-bane @dontletyourchildrenwatchthis @hello-th3r3 @bbyanarchist @ponyboys-sunsets
-
requests open. message for Din's taglist or Joel Miller's!
-
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steddieas-shegoes · 10 months
Text
your heart sings to mine
for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'open mic night' rated: M wc: 992 cw: alcohol, implied/referenced recreational drug use tags: mutual pining, idiots to lovers, love confessions in the rain
🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤
The bar didn’t call it karaoke night because they were hoping to attract talent.
At least that’s what the owner said when they arrived, ready to sign up for a song.
Steve sighed in relief, and Robin quickly got over it when she saw the list of people singing.
Eddie, of course, still added his name, much to the bar owner’s disgust and disappointment.
And now they were waiting through a line of mediocre at best singers, who probably only signed up because someone told them once that they had a nice voice.
"This woman knows that professionals have to be able to hit the notes, right?" Robin asked Steve, her face giving away her displeasure.
"I think she thinks she is a professional," Steve replied, wincing as the woman's voice cracked.
"I think I can at least hit the notes in the song I picked," Eddie grinned. "Promise not to boo me off the stage if I don't, though."
He was teasing; He had an actual band that he actually performed on stage with once a week. He would not only hit all the notes, but probably put on a hell of a show.
Steve was a little worried about that.
He'd only been to two Corroded Coffin shows before; The first was an accident when he was a senior, before he knew Eddie, and the second was with Robin, Jonathan, and Nancy shortly after Eddie was cleared to do regular activities again.
That show had been quite a life changing event for Steve.
It's not that he hadn't noticed his attraction to Eddie before, it's just that it was more on the backburner.
But seeing him on stage, lighting up the bar, becoming this huge figure while still maintaining his casual act of being the town outcast, Steve realized this wasn't just attraction.
This was the kind of feeling that happens when you aren't paying attention, when you think you know how you feel and then get hit with the moment.
That was over a month ago and Steve hadn't said anything to Eddie.
Nancy, of all people, had been the one to notice. She pulled him aside that night and asked him if he was sure.
And he wasn't. Not then, not now.
He was sure of his feelings, but not Eddie's.
"Eddie Munson!" the person handling the list called into the microphone.
"Cheer extra loud for me," Eddie winked at Steve as he got up and ran to the stage.
As if there was any chance Steve wouldn't.
The song started and Steve froze.
Head Over Heels was the last thing he expected to hear, and for a moment, he thought they mixed up Eddie's chosen song with someone else's.
But Eddie smiled into the microphone and started singing right on cue.
"Oh boy," Robin said from next to him.
Steve couldn't say anything.
All he could do was sit and watch and listen.
Eddie sang beautifully, his slightly rough voice adding an edge to a song that otherwise didn't have one at all.
When it ended, Steve stood up from his seat abruptly, needing fresh air, maybe a smoke.
The beer he'd been drinking wasn't doing it.
As he made his way outside, he pulled the joint Eddie had rolled for them to share out of his pocket, ready to light it.
He didn't smoke often, but this felt like the right time.
The rain pouring down outside didn't deter him from going, he knew he had a change of clothes in his trunk and he was willing to risk catching a cold if it meant having a moment outside alone.
But he was only alone for a moment.
He turned when the side door banged open, his heart skipping a beat when he saw Eddie's head turning from side to side to look for him.
"Steve!" Eddie said when he saw him against the wall of the opposite building. "Did you not like the song?"
He looked hurt.
Steve hated when he looked like that.
"No, I loved it," he said, doing his best to bite back the 'I love you' that wanted to pour from his mouth.
"Oh. Good," Eddie said, relaxing. "Why are you out here getting wet then?"
"Just needed some air."
Eddie frowned.
"Are you feeling sick? I can drive us back, I only had one drink."
"No, no. That's not it."
"What is it then?"
And Steve couldn't lie to him. He couldn't look at the vulnerability in Eddie's eyes, and think about the way he just sang Steve's favorite song on stage in front of at least 50 people, and lie.
"Why did you sing that song?" he finally asked.
"What? Because you like it," Eddie said, looking down at his shoes.
"But...why? Why does it matter if I like the song you sing at open mic night?"
"Because I want you to like me."
His voice broke and so did Steve's heart.
Steve dropped the joint on the ground, closed the distance between them, cupped Eddie's face in his hands, and kissed him.
It was wet from the rain, wet from Steve's tongue.
Wet from the tears he hadn't realized were falling from his eyes.
When he pulled away, Eddie was staring at him with wide eyes, his lips red from the hard kiss.
"I love you, Eddie. Before the song, even."
"You-"
"Yeah."
"I think I blacked out."
"You didn't," Steve huffed a laugh.
"No I had to. Because there's no way you just said-"
"I did. I do. I love you."
"I just sang Tears For Fears in public for you. In front of people. On a stage. I think it's pretty clear I love you too," Eddie smirked.
They kissed again, for so long that their clothes were soaked through, long enough that Robin came to find them and yelled at them to get a room.
The back of Steve's car was good enough for now.
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okiedokrie · 5 months
Text
Epiphany // Soft Porn (Prologue)
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Summary: Joshua has always been comfortable with his sexuality and romantic orientation for as long as he could remember; he's straight, and monogamous. At least, that's what he thought. One day his bestest friend in the world starts exploring the possibility of seeing someone, a mutual friend, and well, Joshua realizes two things: He's not as straight as he thought he was, and he wants both of them.
Characters/Pairing(s): Hong Joshua x F!Reader x Yoon Jeonghan
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut (No smut in the prologue)
AUs/Trope info: Non-Idol!AU, Poly!AU, Strangers to Friends to Lovers,
Word Count: 2.5k
Warnings: Just drinking and cussing
Rating: 18+
A/N: banners by @kwanisms
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The warm lights of the restaurant with the alcohol made Joshua's face tingle. He's gotten a few drinks in with his best friend, Jeonghan, who's arguably in a worse state than he was.
“Joshuji, I met this girl at a friend's birthday recently. She's new to the area and I think you guys would click, she's really chill.” Jeonghan slurred slightly, head swaying and while his hair fell over his face.
“Really? Ah, you really know how to make friends in all places huh.” Joshua said, at least he thinks he did. He and Jeonghan notoriously cannot handle their alcohol, so he might've just slurred something incomprehensible.
From the way Jeonghan squinted and furrowed his eyebrows, it was clear that he was having a hard time trying to understand what Joshua was trying to say, still, he nodded as a form of ‘I don't want to think too hard lest my head explodes' gesture. He just laughed it off and hoped it was a joke.
Luckily for him, it was, and as he threw his head back sloppily, Joshua couldn't help but notice the way his long hair whipped off of his face, letting him get a better view of his friend's neck along with the drunken joy of his face.
Ah, he's so pretty. Joshua thought to himself, there's nothing wrong with appreciating the aesthetic beauty of your closest friend, right? It's okay for him to think he's absolutely gorgeous because he means a lot to him, right?
It's totally normal to want to date your bro if you were a girl, right?
I'd absolutely date him if I was a girl.
Totally normal thing to think about your best friend who just so happens to be drop-dead gorgeous. Joshua doesn't think too much about what that could mean; he’s lived 28 years without even questioning what type of people he's attracted to, and he's absolutely confident he liked women. If his hormonal teenage years of being provoked by big tits was any indication, he's completely confident about being into women.
What he didn't consider was the possibility of being into both.
But he's too out of it at the moment. Maybe if he remembers this when he's sober he'll explore the possibility more, but right now, he's content looking at the dopey, lopsided, lazy grin across Jeonghan's face.
Man, I love him… completely platonically!
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The morning light bleeds through Joshua's curtains, the warmth of it hitting Joshua's face making his eyes flutter open. That wasn't the only warmth on him though, Jeonghan's sleeping figure was pressed against his chest, his head cradled in Joshua's arms. His shampoo invades Joshua's nose, the calming lavender prompting Joshua to take a deep breath of the scent.
Jeonghan stirs slightly, his arms around Joshua's torso tightening his hold on him, hand gripping the back of Joshua's sleep shirt with a groan. Joshua could feel the vibrations from Jeonghan's chest to his. Jeonghan nuzzles his face into Joshua's chest more, getting comfortable again.
This isn't the first time this happened; Joshua and Jeonghan have always been comfortable with each other, to the point that they'd move in together and cuddle regularly. Jeonghan claimed it made for a more fulfilling sleep, while Joshua is just happy to have Jeonghan close. He loves him, after all.
Completely platonically!
“Good morning.” Joshua murmured into Jeonghan's hair.
Jeonghan hummed in response, “G'morni… don' get up yet… ‘m still comfy…” he slurred, sleep still deep in his system, body heavy and maybe a little hungover from the night before.
Joshua chuckles at this, “I need to make breakfast for us, Hannie.” He said, threading his fingers through Jeonghan's hair to scratch his scalp. This motion causes Jeonghan to grin into Joshua's chest, his grip on his shirt relaxing. If Jeonghan was a cat, he'd be purring by now from content. 
They're broken out of their little bubble of comfort when Jeonghan's stomach growls in protest, his eyes snapping open, cheeks warming up in mild embarrassment from just how loud it was.
Joshua on the other hand, found it fucking adorable.
He pulls Jeonghan closer to his chest, the vibrations of his laughter on Jeonghan's cheek. His face flushes more, burying it into Joshua's chest with a whine.
“Please tell me you'll make breakfast soon.” He said, voice muffled by Joshua's chest.
“I'll make your favorite French toast if it'll make you feel better.” Joshua said, stroking Jeonghan's hair gently.
“Thanks bro.” Jeonghan said, finally releasing his hold on Joshua. He promptly gets up, stretching his arms and cracking his back, bare feet softly padding their way into the kitchen where he starts preparing to make breakfast. 
Jeonghan follows shortly after him, figure slightly swaying from his hangover, uneven steps thudding across the floor of their shared apartment. His furrowed brows and unpleasant expression shifted into a soft smile as soon as he saw Joshua's back facing towards him. 
Walking quietly to where Joshua was in front of the stove, Jeonghan placed his hands on both of Joshua's shoulders to peek over him, looking at the progress of their breakfast. 
Joshua smiles fondly at the sweet gesture, silently flipping the toast to finish cooking it. “Hannie, could you set the table? I think we still have orange juice in the fridge.”
Jeonghan only replies with a nasal hum, one of his many cute habits. He removes himself from Joshua's personal space and goes to check the fridge, taking the juice out to start setting the table.
Breakfast was served! They both sat down at their dining room table to enjoy it. 
“Hey Joshuji, I'm going out today to meet the new friend I made, do you wanna come with me?” Jeonghan asked with a mouthful of toast.
Joshua chews his toast slowly, trying to make some time in his schedule to go and meet with this friend Jeonghan keeps talking about.
“Sorry Han, I can't, I just remembered I have a doctor's appointment today, and with the clinic lines, it's gonna be a while.” He said after he swallowed his toast, picking up his glass of orange juice to wash it down.
“Aw, that's too bad, I had a feeling you guys would get along well. Maybe next time then.” Jeonghan continued to chew with a pout on his face, which Joshua found to be cute as fuck.
Stop pouting, you're too cute, I'd kiss that pout off your face if I were dating you. 
Wait, no, is that gay?
Nah, my love for him is completely platonic!
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Joshua thought about that exchange with Jeonghan in their shared apartment for a while, and it easily took over his every waking thought as he sat in his car after his doctor's appointment, too distracted by confusing thoughts to start the car and feel safe driving it.
Was he trying to set me up with his new friend? Why? With the way he was talking about them, I'd assume he was into them. So why was he so adamant on introducing us?
That wasn’t really the issue plaguing him though,  it's the fact that the idea of Jeonghan dating someone is bothering him. Not that he's jealous or anything! It's just that, if Jeonghan starts dating someone else,  then he won't have as much time to hang out with him! He'll get homie-napped and pussy-whipped right in front of his eyes!
Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but it is still a very valid concern to have! Jeonghan is Joshua's- best friend. Best friend, platonic soulmate, his other- platonic- half!
They're planning to steal the platonic love of his life!
Oh my god- Joshua what the fuck are you thinking? Be normal!! Your all-in-one best friend, roommate, and soulmate can date people and you don't have to be weird about it! It's not like he hasn't dated before! 
Joshua groaned, slamming his head into the steering wheel causing the car to make an abrupt and loud honk. Joshua jolted, surprising himself, and sending an apologetic look at the lady pushing her stroller in front of his car who was also a little spooked.
God, I'm a mess, why can't I ever be normal about Jeonghan dating people? We're both adults for fuck's sake.
Joshua rubs his palms into his face, groaning a very long groan. The noise of frustration seemingly lasted for hours, at least to him, and his pertinent for dramatics.
Joshua was finally able to get himself out of his head, and he regained the capacity to focus on the road and drive safely, like a very normal, and very sane person. 
Don't think of Jeonghan. Don't think of Jeonghan. Don't think of Jeonghan. Don't think of- Turn left? Left???? Hold on what's left again? Fuckfuckfuckfuck-
Joshua ended up missing his turn and drove an extra 3 hours of shame in an attempt to get back to his original route, so in hindsight, maybe he still wasn't in the right state of mind to have been driving. 
The only silver lining was that his thoughts of Jeonghan were replaced by the desire to finally get home.
Joshua finally made it home in one piece,  though he noticed Jeonghan still hadn't come home.
No, no, bad Joshua! Stop! Stop thinking about him!
He shut his eyes tightly as he tried to navigate the apartment with his eyes closed, trying to push the intrusive thoughts of his pretty best friend from his mind.
Think of literally anything else, think straight thoughts! Women, females, tits, ass, vagina- ew no, I'm straight, not a douchebag. What kind of ass thinks of women as detached genitalia or something? If I just need to stick my dick into something; I have a fist and a fleshlight. 
Joshua successfully pushed the intrusive thoughts away by overthinking himself into an argument with fictitious misogynists.
Still, even when the thought of Jeonghan wasn't at the forefront of his mind, a sinking feeling still washed over him. Dread, maybe anxiety? Whatever it is, it's ugly, and Joshua hates feeling it.
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Joshua wakes up in the middle of the night, body jolting at the realization that he accidentally fell asleep in his outside clothes. He sits up, squinting at the darkness of his bedroom, subconsciously reaching over to the left side of the bed further from the door, only to be met with cold sheets. 
Right, Jeonghan isn't here.
Joshua doesn't know when Jeonghan comes home, he feels a little guilty since he usually waits for Jeonghan to come home so they can do their night routine together. 
Joshua's California King-size bed feels a little too big for him now, too empty to be comfortable. It's not the safe place Joshua feels it is without Jeonghan.
Joshua only has the silence of night and the hug of moonlight to accompany him now, all he has the energy to do now is think. Think about just how much he values and depends on the constant that was Jeonghan in his life. Ever since he met him, fresh out of high school, new to the country. Through the culture shock of moving to the other side of the world, Jeonghan had been a steady rock to lean on.
Thinking was a dangerous thing for Joshua to do, forcing him to address personal turmoils that would usually disappear in the light of day.
Joshua is sure that he loves Jeonghan, but he can't help but explore the possibility of being in love with him.
It's not like he hasn't thought about it before, on other lonely nights like these where Joshua doesn't have the sound of Jeonghan's snores to distract him.
The constant hum of the air conditioning tunes out the sound of Joshua's breathing, and even under his comforter, it's cold. It's lonely without Jeonghan.
Isolation was never good for Joshua, especially if he was left alone with his thoughts. He shakes his head, throwing the covers off himself to make the journey to their kitchen. 
Isolation was never good for Joshua, so he seeks the company of a bottle of whiskey. 
He pours a bit in a glass, neat, not being in the mood to even get ice. He takes the bottle and his glass to the chair facing the floor-to-ceiling windows of their apartment. 
Moonlight lights up Joshua's face, highlighting every shadow over his face. He distantly thinks about Jeonghan again—if he saw Joshua right now, he'd scold him. He's not used to Joshua's way of coping by bleeding his emotions to the moon.
Maybe it's wishful thinking, or maybe it's a desperate prayer that was finally heard, but Jeonghan finds Joshua drinking near the window.
“I thought I told you not to drink alone, Joshuji.” Jeonghan said, sleep still in his voice as his feet pad on the hardwood.
“I know Hannie, I'm sorry, I've just been thinking.” He said, downing the rest of the whiskey in the glass before setting it down on the small table next to his chair.
Jeonghan wordlessly sat on the chair across from Joshua, scanning the shadows of his face. “What were you thinking about?” Jeonghan asked, leaning comfortably against his seat.
Joshua's eyes fell over Jeonghan's face, the moonlight casting a soft glow, skin shining pearlescent, the light creating a halo around his head.
His breath gets caught in his throat, he's beautiful. Angelic was the perfect word to describe how Jeonghan looked at this moment. Joshua remembers how his pastor back in church would describe these higher beings.
He fully believes Jeonghan was sent to him to look after him. There's no other reason for a man to look like “safety” and “security” to him.
Unless, of course, Joshua is in love with him.
“I'm thinking about us.” Joshua finally replied, after much thought, he knew hiding something from Jeonghan would only be more trouble than it was worth.
Jeonghan's back straightened, surprised at the easy confession out of Joshua, “Us? What do you mean by that Joshua?”
Jeonghan only ever uses his real name when he's serious, Joshua only shakes his head and smiles at him.
“It's nothing. But, you know I love you, right?” Joshua says, the word ‘love’ feeling heavy on his tongue.
Jeonghan's face softens, knowing Joshua isn't ready to talk about that just yet. Still, he answers, “I know, I love you too.”
Joshua's heart swells at the reassurance, smiling fondly at Jeonghan, his best friend. As he stands up to walk towards Joshua.
Joshua waits for Jeonghan's next move, patiently watching every delicate movement of his body, from the sway of his hair down to the rocking of the heels of his feet.
Jeonghan reached out to Joshua, cupping his face, the pad of his thumb wiping a stray tear from his cheek, not realizing that they'd started to fall. 
“You mean so much to me, more than you think you do, and I'm waiting for you. Find me when you're ready to talk.” Jeonghan said, moving Joshua's bangs away from his face, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead.
When Jeonghan moved away from Joshua's face, the light behind Jeonghan's head made a halo around him once more, reminding Joshua that solace was his soulmate.
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wangxianficfinder · 21 days
Text
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In the mood for...
Sep 7th
~*~
1. So u know how during bm days and 1st seige of bm wwx is often portrayed as guilt ridden/self sacrificing 'I deserve this' loyal 2theend mentality? What about any fics where wwx is horrified and feels betrayed? That jc opinion could be swayed by outsiders, that jc broke their cover up/truce they made during their faked duel where they staged defection. That jc is two faced in his dealings. Just that type of vibe where even if wwx isn't all 'destruction revenge' in response, he takes it personally
Lay my body down by tawaen (M, 48k, WWX & WQ, WWX & WN, wangxian, WWX & JYL, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Eventual WangXian, No Golden Core Transfer, Not Cultivation World Friendly, Canon-Typical Violence, Not JC Friendly, What if WWX saw the first siege of the burial mounds and said Nope to the war, OCs, OC point-of-view for one chapter for plot reasons) AU after the fall of LP where WWX gets a glimpse of the future up to the siege & goes 'fuck that & fuc JC in particular'
~*~
2. A) Finished reading this fic (forces of attraction by bleuett) and now I am in the mood for rogue cultivator wwx AU's. It doesn't matter if lwj belongs to a clan or is a rogue too...i'd love M/E rated fic recs for this trope please!!
Hello!! I am in the mood for some of the following tropes/types of fics:
B) rogue cultivator wwx and/or rogue cultivator lwj
C) childhood friends to lovers wangxian/growing up together (any AU works)
D) the jealous/possessive lwj trope feat wwx dating some other male chara/mistaken to be dating that chara
E) dragonji and/or dragonxian fics
F) complete wwx rarepair fics (like non wangxian but with anyone shipped with wwx if its well done)
Please make sure that if the fics are M/E rated, that they only have bottom wwx (I avoid top wwx/switch dynamic like my life depends on it) Thank you!!
@stellatosparkle
2A)
🔒 Ad Oblivione by Baph, HikariNoHimeWriter (M, 70k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, POV Multiple, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Identity Reveal, Golden Core Reveal, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Abusive YZY, Angst with a Happy Ending) also fits 2B Time travel AU where WWX grows up as a rogue cultivator.
Cultivating immortality by KizuKatana (E, 231k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Mutual Pining, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, unreliable narrator, Found Family, First Time, novel canon relationship dynamics)
Dispersing Clouds by dreamingofcake (E, 283k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Abusive YZY, Canonical Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Sex, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm (Background Character), Background Character Deaths, child deaths, Canon JC, Good Uncle LQR, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Cultivation Sect Politics, Homophobia, Heteronormativity, Feelings Realization, WWX is Not Oblivious) although Wei Ying starts as a Jiang and ends up becoming a Lan, with time as a rogue cultivator in between
2C)
❤️ All will be well when the day is done by abCEE (T, 76k, LQR & WWX, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix It, Not Jiang Family Friendly, JFM & YZY Bashing, YZY Bashing, Definitely not YZY centric, Fix it for our main characters, Time Travel, Butterfly Effect, Madam Lan Lives, No Sunshot Campaign, Artistic License, Unreliable Narrator, JC Bashing, non-yunmeng WWX, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Good Uncle LQR, OOC, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, WWX gets the love and care that he deserves from the very beginning, Mainly CQL but has elements of the novel as well, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiangs, verbal and physical (c/o Zidian) abuse from YZY)
how a smiling homeless child melted jade hearts and got a home by anxiouswreck0_0 (T, 41k, wangxian, LXC & LWJ, LXC & WWX, WWX was adopted by the lans, lan WWX, pining WWX, Canon Divergence, LQR making questionable parenting choices, madam lan is a good parent, Fluff and Angst, Fix-It of Sorts, Childhood Friends, childhood fiances? Yes, Character Death, insecure WWX, slightly possessive WWX, Possessive LWJ, Not Everyone Dies, Dark LXC, OOC, Mild Gore, Explicit Language, Supportive LXC, Morally Ambiguous Character, Sassy WWX, WWX does not like the jins and it shows, clingy LWJ, mother hen LXC, Good LQR, Good Parent LQR, Good Parent QHJ)
🔒 Life is Like a Stranger by through_shadows_falling (T, 69k, wangxian, Kid Fic, Child LWJ, Child WWX, First Meetings, Canon Divergence, Cute Kids, Orphan WWX, Autism Spectrum, Fix-It, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Canon, POV LWJ, Growing Up Together, WWX raised at Cloud Recesses, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Puberty, Growing Up, Coming Out, teenage angst, Wet Dream, Pining, This fic gets a little raunchier as the kids become teens, But it won’t get too explicit, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Spanish Translation, Brief mentions/moments of WWX kissing others in chapter 22 but only on the cheek, also characters kiss WWX on the cheek in chapter 23, but his real first kiss is with LWJ, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian)
soft-hearted by sarahyyy (G, 6k, wangxian, alternate universe, childhood friends, hurt/comfort, getting together, first kiss, wedding fluff)
🔒 Cuties and Questions by WiseDawn13 (T, 6k, WangXian, Modern, Childhood Friends, POV WWX, losing touch with your best friend and then meeting each other again years later, Reunions, Getting Together, LWJ is a Little Shit, LWJ is a Confident Gay, WWX is Loved, CSSR and WCZ Live, the mortifying ordeal of finding out your childhood best friend grew up to be hot, Light Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending)
When we were small by deliciousblizzardshark (T, 7k, LXC & LQR & LWJ, LQR & WWX, WangXian, LQR & JFM, Modern, Kid Fic, Good Uncle LQR, Neurodivergent LWJ, Baby LWJ, Baby WWX, Parenthood, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, POV LQR, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort)
2D)
Am I (Gusu Lan Cultivator, 24 M) the Asshole? by moonwaif (M, 41k, WangXian, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, modern cultivation au, Oblivious LWJ, Jealous LWJ, Jealous WWX, Misunderstandings, No actual WWX x Others, A "What If WWX Figured Out His Own Feelings First?", AU Hanguang-jun unlearns compulsory heteronormativity, Implied/Referenced Homophobia)
he gets under your skin by Skadiseven (M, 87k, WangXian, XiXian, (sort of), Inspired By While You Were Sleeping (1995), Modern AU, Accidental Engagement, Chicago (City), lan typical communication skills, wangxian's tendency to self-sacrifice, Christmas, Cats, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Angst with a Happy Ending)
2E)
💖 Hoards and treasures by apathyinreverie (T, 21k, WangXian, Siblings, Family, not particularly Jiang friendly, YZY Bashing, slightly darker Gusu Lans, LXC being the best brother, Some manipulation, But with the best of intentions, and not between wangxian, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX, Smitten LWJ, Fluff, perfect happiness, adorable WWX, Romance, Some worldbuilding, courting)
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3. hiiii can you help me find fics where wangxian just got together and are exploring the relationship? or fics where wei ying is getting used to being loved after so long 🥹🫶
Seasons of Love by Witch_Nova221 (G, 24k, WangXian, Eventual Romance, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Caring LWJ, POV WWX, Falling In Love, Self-Esteem Issues, Finding home, Post-Canon, Soft, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Happy Ending)
You, Asleep and Dreaming by etymologyplayground (M, 9k, WangXian, LWJ POV, 5+1 Things, Literal Sleeping Together, Sharing a Bed, Cuddling & Snuggling, Intimacy, Getting Together, Fluff, Post-Canon, Undressing, wwx’s ‘angry lwj’ kink)
Tripped at Every Step by brooklinegirl (E, 28k, WangXian)
the hidden source is the watchful heart by o_honeybees (E, 10k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Domesticity, Touch-Starved, Grief/Mourning, Misunderstandings, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Unresolved Sexual Tension,Eventual Smut, reflections on selfishness and selflessness)
my age has never made me wise by idrilka (E, 63k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Part-epistolary, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Marriage Proposal, Homecoming, One Brain Cell WWX Strikes Again)
I hope that you will come and meet me by feyburner (M, 28k, WangXian , Post-Canon Getting Together Love Letters Emotional Hurt/Comfort Cuddling & Snuggling Literal Sleeping Together Intimacy CQL Compliant No Plot Just Feelings First Time, [Podfic of] I hope that you will come and meet me by exmanhater )
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4. hello! i would really love to find fics where wwx (teen or adult) meets his parents and gets to have a relationship with them. maybe it’s a time traveling wwx or his parents time travel or something. bonus points if the weis get pissed off with the jiangs and gets him out of there!
🔒 the world wags on by justdoityoufucker (orphan_account) (T, 5k, WCZ & WWX, WCZ & LQR, WCZ/LQR, canon divergence, pre-canon, WCZ lives, not everyone dies au, not Jiang friendly, past child abuse, canon Jiang family dynamics, not YZY friendly, parent- child relationship)
The Long Winding Road Homeby Admiranda (T, 13k, CSSR/WCZ, wangxian, flash forwards, Time Travel, Post canon, WWX’s parents come to post canon mdzs, not for JC fans, fluffy family reunions, mocking LQR to his face, mocking JC to his face, wild rumors abound)
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5. hi! ITMF Xue Yang centric fics? Ones where he was found by WWX and has a better childhood because of it. I'm fine with any ships or none. Just for reference, I really loved how Xue Yang's character and the relationship between him and Wen Ning developed in Yearning for Miles by Murahi. So if there are any other similar fics, I'll appreciate the recs, thank you!!
a bird in your teeth by Eevee (ChaosBitch) (E, 61k, JYL/XY, wangxian, Let XY have nice things, Let JYL get some good dick, (sorry JZX I know you did your best), Past JYL/JZX, Past JYL/MM, All of the sex in this fic is consensual, But one of the participants IS a fierce corpse, JYL POV, Minor Character Death, I feel like this fic turned out surprisingly soft, but XY still does some onscreen murders, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mention of JGS’s canon behavior, Mentions of XY’s canon behavior, Also Wangxian is not the main pairing, but they’re definitely here and stupider in love than ever, Angst, past XY/JGY, Hopeful Ending) JYL/XY fic where XY brings JYL back as a fierce corpse
Keep My Shadow Alive by namelessdeer (M, 81k, WIP, WangXian, Novel canon with CQL sprinkles, Found Family, Fix-It of Sorts, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Burial Mounds Ensemble as Family, XY-centric, POV Multiple, Mental Health Issues, Psychological Trauma, Dubious Morality, Hurt/Comfort, Humor, adhd wwx, autistic lwj, Unreliable Narrator, Chronic Pain, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Slow To Update, rated for violence and heavy themes, Grief/Mourning) has XY presenting himself at the Burial Mounds as a disciple and not taking no for an answer. Mostly XY POV, but not always.
Please Take This Radish by Wildcard (M, 7k, WIP, LSZ & XY, XY & WQ, JYL & XY, JC & XY, WN & XY, WangXian, JYL/JZX, Canon Divergence, at no point does XY actually sell Wen Yuan, Bad Parenting, not abusive parenting, but just bad in the way of a kid who does not know how to parent, XY loves his little brother really, he's just not the best at showing it, raising the dead is easier than raising kids, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comedy, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Dysfunctional Family, demonic radishes, Everyone Lives, For Want of a Nail, Temporary Character Death, Mistaken Identity, XY is not the Yiling Patriarch, musical cultivation) is a really good wip where xy & yuan escape bm seige and xy is mistaken for a de-aged wwx
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6. I'm in the mood for a fic, where Lan Zhan has amnesia (preferably temporary) and doesn't remember anything. He doesn't know what Lan clan is, doesn't remember his family and events and Wei. It could be some injury or some spell. I wonder if there is such fic like that. Not modern au. I would like to see Lan Zhan being oblivious of Lan clan rules and not recognizing his uncle and brother. And being generally very confused of the cultivation world.
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7. Itmf god!wwx fics esp diverging aus where he ascends. Also itmf fics where wwx died earlier than in canon but still continues on in some way (a ghost, wrath/calamity, God, resurrected, etc.) and/or esp if he or others don't realize it at first.
🔒 A Heart Undying by NonsensicalRambling (M, 114k, WangXian, Undead WWX, Canon-Typical Violence, canon-typical dead things the burial mounds, Fix-It of Sorts, Canon Divergence, Eventual WangXian, No Yīn Tiger Seal, Morally Gray WWX, Animals Eating People, WWX's questionable choices, Morally conflicted LWJ, Oblivious WWX, WWX Creates a Sect | Yiling Wei, YLLZ WWX, Sect Leader WWX, LWJ & WQ have an Understanding) Wei wuxian basically became an official for diyu
🔒💖 Calling Heaven by mondengel (Not Rated, 2k, WangXian, God AU)
Having Enough (of your foolishness) by makexianxianhappytoday (T, 18k, WangXian, Hurt WWX, YLLZ WWX, BAMF WWX, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Jiang Family Bashing, Canon Divergence, CSSR and WCZ Live, Yunmeng Jiang Sect Bashing, JYL Lives, JZX Lives, (but what are the consequences), JC Bashing)
In the end by apathyinreverie (T, 4k, WangXian, LSZ & WWX, WWX & WN, Canon Divergence, God WWX, WWX ascends, the cultivation world hates it, but they don't get a say, LWJ is done with the cultivation world, cultivation sect critical)
Meet you at a different place by tawaen (M, 57k, WQ & WN, WN & MXY & WQ, WQ & WWX & WN, Eventual WangXian, Ghost General WN, Ghost WQ, Canon Divergence, WQ comes back to haunt the cultivation world, Bad idea to kill the one person who didn’t kill anyone, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Wen Remnants Deserve Better, Sīsī Deserves Better, MXY Deserves Better, POV WQ)
Not Only Gods Are Listening by a_dancer (Not Rated, 69k, WangXian, HuaLian, Post-Canon TGCF, MDZS Fix-it, Post-First Siege of the Burial Mounds, YLLZ WWX, Fix-It of Sorts, Crossover)
🔒 Of Destruction and Rebirth by demoniqt (M, 88k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, major character death, rape/non-con, underage, graphic depictions of violence, Slow Burn, Canonical Character Death, God WWX, God Verse, BAMF WWX, Grieving LWJ, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Gods & Goddesses au, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Rabbits, Fix-It, Attempted Sexual Assault, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Gore, Castration, Lots of it, repeatedly, Punishment, Hell)
🧡 Vow by draechaeli (E, 216k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, BeliefGod!WWX, Adoption but WWX birthed them all, Pregnancy Kink, Mpreg, minor male lactation, Consensual Non-Consent, Light Bondage, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con because JGS, Mentions Canon Typical Incest, Canon Typical Violence)
Practical Mythology by metisket (T, 17k, WangXian, Time Travel, YLLZ WWX, myths and legends, apparently the burial mounds has to fix everything itself, zombie farm collective, accidental deities, Families of Choice, WWX has no idea what he's doing, that's why he's doing great)
Blood of the Black Earth by wirevix (M, 48k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Xuánwǔ of Slaughter Cave, Sunshot Campaign, Sad with a Happy Ending, Ghost WWX, Monster WWX, Canonical Character Death, Although not at the canonical time, Grief/Mourning, Good Sibling JC, Horror) WWX dies in Xuanwu cave and his spirit ends up merging with the murder turtle
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8. itmf vampire x werewolf wangxian @nalalie
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9. Fics where wangxin raise a daughter?
❤️ Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste for williedustice (T, 36k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Post-Canon, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Adoption, Family Fluff, Kid fic, Family drama, Fluff, 🔒[PODFIC] Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste by lunatique)
🔒 Little Stars by Aki_no_hikari (G, 4k, WangXian, Family Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Canon Divergence, Yílíng Wèi Sect)
🔒 Little fall of rain by luckymoonly (M, 10k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, WWX didn’t know he was pregnant, Mpreg, Mention of Birth, Family Feels, Nielan himbo rights, soft LQR, Misunderstandings, jealous LWJ, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Smut, Breastfeeding, Thirsty Granny Wen, JGS being his usual self)
❤️ Seen and not heard by eatmyass (E, 51k, wangxian, case fic, no sunshot, kid fic, dadxian, strangers to lovers, found family, LWJ pov, pining, fake/pretend relationship, first time, falling in love) Although Wei Ying & Lan Zhan haven't adopted the children yet, their parenting skills shine
Where the Lonely Ones Go by CSHfic, VSfic (T, 23k, WangXian, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Case Fic, Night Hunts, Fluff, Established Relationship, Mystery, Married Life, Domestic Fluff, Haunting, Kid Fic, Post-Canon, gratuitous use of empathy) Although Wei Ying & Lan Zhan haven't adopted the children yet, their parenting skills shine
Foxsong by Admiranda (T, 41k, A-Qing & WWX & LWJ, Yi City trio, WangXian, SongXiao, fox a-qing, Fox Spirit WWX, Dragon LWJ, Dragon LWJ/Fox WWX, XY causes problems, High Fantasy, mythical beasts in human forms, Found Family, background wangxian, married wangxian) Not quite what you're asking for, but it's about A-Qing and she essentially gets adopted by wangxian
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10. Hello again! Thank as always for your hard work guys!! ❤️❤️ I was wondering for the next I'm in the Mood for... a trope where WWX stays in lotus Pier and has a better/good relationship with JC!! Maybe the golden core reveal happens way earlier and they solve their stuff together (?) Thx in advance!! @nia-rarita
Rewrite the stars by Moonlit_dewdrops (T, 70k, JC & JYL & WWX, WangXian, JC/WQ, JYL & MM & WQ, Angst with a Happy Ending, Protective JC, yunmeng sibling love, Canon Divergence, Lives get saved, Yunmeng sibling bonding,bHurt/Comfort, Protective JYL, Golden Core Reveal, JYL & JZX Live, Fix-It, fuck JGS, JZN too, no one tolerating jin sect’s bullshit, Found Family, JC GETS TO BE HAPPY AND IS MARRIED, JYL & WQ & MM GET TO BE SWORN SISTERS, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, just a bit, WWX has PTSD due to Burial Mounds, Very protective younger bro vibes, soft JC, Family Feels, Healing, Not Everyone Dies, Twin Prides of Yunmeng Feels, WWX will get a New Golden Core, justice for the wen remnants) Not quite the ask as its jiang cheng centric but its about jiang cheng if there was an early golden core reaveal and the relationship of wwx and jc .
🔒Blur the Edges of Memory by geethr75 (T, 53k, WangXian, JC centric, Good brother JC, Post canon, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, No golden core transfer, Sect Leader WWX, Hopeful Ending, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Heavy Angst, Fluff, Angst with a Hopeful Ending) is a JC-centric time travel AU where he prevents the core transfer and everything goes better. Chapters alternate between the original timeline and the new improved timeline.
A Mother’s Love by FirefliesNLightningBugs (M, 170k, WangXian, XuanLi, Canon Divergence, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Mostly combo of the Untamed and MoDaoZuShi timelines, Unreliable Narrator, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Miscommunication, Family Feels, Found Family, PTSD, Post-Sunshot Campaign, Political Intrigue, Mystery, POV Multiple, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Strong Female Characters, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note, Good Brother In Law JZX, Genderbent WWX, Intersex WWX, not a/b/o, POV Original Character, Expanded Universe, Unplanned Pregnancy, Golden Core Reveal, WWX Has No Golden Core, Cultivation Sect Politics, Bisexual WWX, YLLZ WWX, Yunmeng Shuangjie, Pining WangXian, Parent-Child Relationship, Getting Together, Protective Yúnmèng Jiāng Sect, MXY Lives) The wen camps got whistleblown by jc and jzx by chance earlier so wwx wasn't involved and didn't get an excuse/chance to leave, giving him time to start dealing with his issues. Has sect culture and politics w Jiang sibs+jzx being real family to each other and an alliance to rekon with
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11. hi know there has to be a fic like this somewhere!! so basically takes place in canon but lz marries wy to save him and wy is locked in the cottage like how his dad married madam lan to save her and basically just LZ repeating his fathers mistakes but happy ending ofc @yesibest
Practical Considerations by teawater, the_anthropologist (E, 97k, WangXian, JC & WWX, LXC & WWX, LQR & WWX, Arranged Marriage, Canon Divergence, Found Family, Spouses to Lovers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Politics, Scheming, Lán Elders are assholes, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, eventually BAMF LXC, learning to make decisions, Learning Self-worth, Self-Esteem Issues, Sweet Wangxian, Domestic Fluff, Fix-It, JC is a big asshole, he improves somewhat but it's open-ended, WWX learns to stand up for himself, Quote: Come Back to Gusu With Me, POV wwx, POV LWJ, POV JC, Golden Core Reveal, Teacher wwx, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Alcohol as a Coping Mechanism, Past Suicidal Thoughts, Post-Sunshot Campaign, WWX Protection Squad, Feelings Realization, WWX protector of the twin jades, Protective LWJ, Protective WWX, Protective LQR, Demonic Cultivator WWX, WWX is Loved, Married WangXian, Genius WWX, Everybody Lives) Wei Ying (and Jiang Cheng) think that an arranged marriage to Lan Zhan is made so the Lan can lock Wei Ying away for his demonic cultivation. Wei Ying isn't locked away & is eventually respected by most of the Lans, so it's not a perfect fit for the request.
pale shadows of forgotten names by Chrononautical (T, 56k, wangxian, Madam Lán Lives, Madam Lán Deserves Better, Good Sibling LXC, Badass LXC, He gets there in the end it just takes a while, Not particularly JGY friendly, Gūsū Lán Sect Rules, Canon-Typical Behavior, Unresolved Sexual Tension, the universal fear of growing up to become one of your parents, Canon Divergence, Everyone Lives AU, Except WN but he's very polite, Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, Imprisonment, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, not between wangxian, Drunk LWJ, to lighten the mood, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Traumatized WWX, though he will not admit it, Taking time to heal, canon-typical communication skills) Lwj is very much trying to avoid his father's mistakes as much as he can in this one, but it is about Lwj marrying Wwx to protect him and the lans keeping him locked up
A Way Out by pinkquilts (E, 143k, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Living Together, Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, First Love, Locked In, Major Character Injury, Fluff, Sharing a Bed, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Tension, Drunken Shenanigans, WWX misinterprets literally everything, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Eventual Smut, Fix-It, Injury) they're not married but wwx's is trapped inside the jingshi against his will (initially at least)
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12. I'm in the mood for ... a Star Wars AU. Any of them out there? Thanks for any you can think of! @pinetreelady
🔒Divided Destinies by Samking (T, 48k, WangXian, Star Wars Setting, Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic References, Star Wars level of violence)
change by antebunny (G, 16k, WangXian, WWX & JYL, LWJ & LXC, Star Wars Fusion, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Telepathy, because...the Force, Non-Graphic Violence, The Power of Love™, BAMF WWX, JYL is a queen, wwx is a little shit)
Hollowed By The Depths by rymyanna (T, 57k, WangXian, Star Wars Setting, Minor Character Death, Non-Graphic Violence, Family Feels, Attempt at Humor, Force Bond (Star Wars), Established Relationship, Forbidden Love)
The Return Of the (Yiling) Sith by Zephyr (ZephyrAndTheSilverfish) (T, 23k, WangXian, SongXiao, Star Wars Setting, Hurt/Comfort, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Canon-Typical Violence, POV Alternating, The Force, Kidnapping, Pining, IN SPACE!)
🔒The shortest moments are the longest memories by giorassol, hypermoyashi, IceBreeze, Pteropoda (SilentP), Silverne (T, 6k, WangXian, Star Wars Setting, not crackRound Robin, Writing Exercise)
Circlet of Death by cinder1013 (E, 20k, WangXian, XiYao, MingYu, Star Wars Fusion, scum, Villainy, Pirates, I make up Jedi stuff, Gender Fluid Character, Genderfluid MXY, Misgendering, BAMF JYL, Tantric Sex, Badass QS, Sexual Violence, Anal Sex, Wedding Night)
🔒Starlight Will Shake by Syolen (T, 10k, WangXian, Star Wars AU, Pre-Relationship, but they'll get there, Order 66, All that sweet sweet yearning)
fallen by insane_falcon (T, 8k, WangXian, Star Wars Setting, Inspired by Star Wars, Mandalorian WWX, Sith LWJ, Implied Sexual Content, Reunions)
Built On Hope by Alaceron (G, 2k, wangxian, star wars au)
🔒Duel of the Twins by Theladyofravenclaw (T, 71k, WIP, WangXian, Star Wars Setting, Science Fiction, each chapter is intended to be a whole movie within a trilogy, Canon-Typical Violence, Mild Gore, mild body horror, Mentions of Suicide, But only in passing, please take that major character death warning seriously, Angst with a Happy Ending, Yúnmèng Siblings Feels, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Angst)
🔒Zona by FixaIdea (T, 12k, WangXian, Crossover, Survival, Wilderness Survival, Accidental Baby Acquisition, (teens but you get the idea), Mild Gore, Found Family, of sorts, weird physics, Character Death, pre-AOTC)
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13. Hii thank you so much for previous recommendations!! I've been looking for a fic (not specific) in the modern world where the Juniors are at school and they have 'parents visit day' or something similar, and the whole gang is coming. Like WWX, LWJ, JC, and basically everyone, and all the other parents are shocked (it's a bonus). That's it, I think. Ty so muchh!
🔒 how to make your dad fall in love with your high school teacher in five steps; the complete and bulletproof guide by ravenditefairylights (T, 90k, wangxian, modern, coffee shop au, nonbinary LSZ, hurt/comfort, trauma, past abuse, past domestic violence, healing, hurt WWX, found family, hospitalization, therapy, single parent WWX, pining, teacher LWJ, unreliable narrator, chronic pain, queer platonic relationship, genderfluid WWX, autistic LWJ, fluff & angst)
🔒 care by everbrighter (T, 35k, LSZ & WWX, wangxian, modern w/ magic, resurrection, family bonding, getting to know each other, past character death, pining)
not unspectacular things by taizi (T, 14k, WangXian, The Parent Trap Fusion, Unconventional Families, Adopted Children, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Getting Back Together, Happy Ending, the kids are alright, Families of Choice, Modern AU, Meddling Kids, Unreliable Narrator, Good Sibling JC, Protective NHS, One Big Happy Family, POV Third Person Limited)
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14. hihi! Any rogue cultivator WWX fics? Preferably long fics and nothing explicit, but I'm fine with oneshots/short ones too. For the next ITMF! Thank you for the help! :D
🔒 Ad Oblivione by Baph, HikariNoHimeWriter (M, 70k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, POV Multiple, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Identity Reveal, Golden Core Reveal, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Abusive YZY, Angst with a Happy Ending) link in #2
We Meet at the Thousandth Step by Admiranda, Rynne (T, 316k, WangXian, CSSR/WCZ, Canon Divergence, No Sunshot Campaign, CSSR & WCZ Live, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Different First Meeting, Night Hunts, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Plot, Romance, Drama, Fluff, Strangers to married, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Everyone Lives, Developing Relationship, Minor Violence, Case Fic, Mystery, Flirting, WWX’s Canon-Typical Flower Flirting, Arson, There Was Only One Bed, Getting Together, First Kiss, Meeting the Parents, Resolved Sexual Tension, Resolved Romantic Tension, WWX Is a Good Big Brother, New Relationship Bliss, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, Blood and Injury, Yiling siblings, Married WangXian, Honeymoon, Wangxian’s Baby Fever)
Going on charmingly by scribbet (T, 21k, WangXian, Teenage LWJ, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, WWX is BSSR’s Disciple, Genius WWX, Petty LWJ, Meddling LXC, What if LWJ didn’t have an excuse to instantly write WWX off?, Canon Divergence, JFM Doesn’t Adopt WWX, WWX minus canon sense of obligation, but still with an inability to shut up around LWJ, I swear LWJ’s inner voice was no quite so snarky when I started this, JZN is unfortunately present but only to lose face, LQR’s inconsistent adherence to the Lan clan precepts, writing the effective Lan education you would like to see in the world, Technically pre-relationship, but in the typical Wangxian way of them being in deep but just not acknowledging it yet, POV LWJ)
🔒 crying like a fire in the sun by Reverie (cl410) (T, 10k, WangXian, SongXiao, BSSR/LY, Runaway WWX, Canon Divergence, Everyone Lives/Nobody Die, srogue cultivator WWX, Angst, Post Cloud Recesses, Not YZY Friendly, Happy Ending, BSSR is WWX’s grandmother instead of grandmaster)
Cartwheels In Cloud Recesses Series by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 23k, WangXian, CSSR/WCZ, CSSR and WCZ Live, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans)
The Devil That You Forgot by pottedplnt (Not Rated, 20k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, BAMF WWX, YLLZ WWX, Rogue Cultivator WWX, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiāngs, Angst, Sentient Burial Mounds, Demonic Cultivation, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sunshot Campaign, Chronic Pain, JFM and YZY Bashing, Bad Parent YZY, Jiāng Family Bashing)
A Thousand Things by tickertape (M, 108k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiāngs, Developing Friendships, lots of OCs, miscommunication and misunderstandings (they’re idiots your honor), Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Slow Burn)
Debts of a Child Part 2 by Hauntcats (M, 111k, WangXian, YZY Bashing, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Angst and Feels, lots of anger, JC Bashing, not Jiang friendly, Angst with a Happy Ending, Content warning for icky spiders in later chapters., hurt no comfort for Jiang siblings.)
🔒 Flowers Blooming by Ilona22 (M, 35k, WangXian, Adoption, Prostitution, Family Fluff, Family Drama, Growing Up)
Just go forward like you mean it by tawaen (M, 101k, WangXian, WWX & WN &WQ, WWX & JYL, NHS & WWX, Canon Divergence, WWx does not attend the Wen indoctrination, WWX saves Lotus Pier, Inventor WWX, No Golden Core Transfer, Sect Leader JYL, JC Has No Golden Core, Bad Parents JFM & YZY, Not JC Friendly, but he gets a happier ending than canon so don’t look here for bashing)
Our Immortal Blood by Saori (M, 81k, WangXian, Alternate Universe, Temporary Character Death, Minor Character Death, Platonic Relationships, Family Feels, Blood and Injury, Night Hunts, Monsters, Immortality, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Slow Burn, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Marriage Proposal, Angst with a Happy Ending)
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15. Hihi I wondering if you knew of any fics where wwx is a dragon rider? Or dragons just in general?
No A/B/O or character bashing please 🙏
A Baby Dragon’s Guide To Seducing Your Huli Jing by sweetlolixo (M, 102k, wangxian, Fantasy, But still in the Cultivation World, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX, Younger LWJ, Older WWX, Fluff, Humor, Eventual mpreg, Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Boy A-Yuan)
cloudy autumn heaps the sky by anatheme (T, 23k, WangXian, Fantasy, Universe Alteration, Secret Identity, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Timeline What Timeline, wwx is a little older here, wwx piling gifts on lwj and encouraging hoarding tendencies, Sharing a Bed, Literal Sleeping Together, Arranged Marriage)
The Dragon’s Bride by jaws_3 (T, 34k, WangXian, Beauty and the Beast Fusion, Arranged Marriage elements, Slow Burn, sometimes ya get sent off to atone for ur villages misgivings and u just gotta deal, Dragon LWJ, Mutual Pining, Happy Ending, Spanish Translation Available)
These Mortal Treasures by ChilianXianzi (T, 9k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fantasy, Dragon LWJ, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Possessive LWJ, Domestic Fluff, implied eggpreg, The Cultivation World’s canonical fuckery, eggyuan!, Gift Giving)
this river runs to you Series by aubreyli, sundiscus (T/E, 66k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Mutual Pining, Dragons, Literal Sleeping Together, Tender wound tending, First Time, Oral Sex, Coming Untouched, Porn with Feelings, Established Relationship) 
To lurk, to lie in wait by trippednfell (M, 124k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Huli Jing, strangers to co-parents to lovers, Strangers to Lovers, Dragons, Kid Fic, teenage juniors, background NieLan, Angst with a Happy Ending, Case Fic, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Not Really Character Death, Fox Spirit WWX, Dragon LWJ, Blood and Injury, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note)
🔒 flame and rust by cl410 (M, 34k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Happy ending, Dragon WWX, Fluff and Humor, Light angst) although not tagged as bashing, are tagged for Wei Ying's abuse at the hands of Madam Yu
my rivers tilt towards you by perfectlyrose (T, 26k, WangXian, Canon, Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Fairy Tale Elements, dragonji, mentions of, Madam Yu’s A+ Parenting, First Meetings, Romance, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort) although not tagged as bashing, are tagged for Wei Ying's abuse at the hands of Madam Yu
climb the sky, make the flight Series by exmanhater (E, 26k, WangXian, Dragons, Mating Flight (Dragonriders of Pern), Pern Fusion, First Time, Riding, Anal Fingering, LWJ is a service top, Fire Lizards, Established Relationship, 5+1 Things, Threadfall (Dragonriders of Pern), Telepathy) the series "climb the sky, make the flight" by exmanhater is a Pern fusion AU. I don't *think* there's any character bashing but it's been a while.
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16. Do you also find fics with other ships? I am in the mood for a fic, where it would focused on Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan. And what I have in mind specifically, it's their first meeting. There is a lot of fics where they meet and instantly goes along (they are part of larger story focused on wangxian ship) or they are usually together. But I would like to read something more detailed on how they first met and bonus point if they wouldn't get along at first at all:) No modern au please.
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17. hi ! im looking for fics where yiling laozu era wei wuxian meets post canon wangxian (or any similar fics where different versions of the characters meet). ive read a bunch but cant find any of them :( i know theres a good amount that are pwp but theres also a bunch that have no smut/arent just smut which is what im looking for more tho I'll take whatever :) @snapcracklepop-myjoints
Key Differences by pupeez4eva (T, 5k, WangXian, Humor, Dimension Travel, Crossover, Drama!WWX meets Novel!WWX, Public Confessions, Post-Canon)
River Stones by littlesystems (M, 18k, WangXian, Time Travel, Post-Canon, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Junior Quartet, Oblivious WWX, Suffering LWJ, LJY having the time of his life, Voyeurism)
Song of Joy and Regrets by HelloKitten (Not Rated, 134k, wangxian, hualian, WIP, TGCF, Angst, Self-Harm, Child Abuse, characters watching their series, Time Travel Fix-it)
花无百日红; the flower that withers by yiqie (M, 29k, wangxian, Time Travel Fix-It of Sorts, Case Fic, Spells & Enchantments, Hurt/Comfort, Forgiveness, It’s about the emotional catharsis, If you have ever laughed at WWX clowning himself for the ‘no one will marry you’ scene, This fic is: for you)
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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***
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kaitsawamura · 6 months
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-> somebody come get her (she's dancing like a stripper)
-> SUMMARY
You have bills to pay. That's the only thing on your mind when you go in for your shift at the strip club. The only thing on your mind until you see Daichi.
Daichi doesn't expect to find you, the girl of his dreams, at the strip club. In fact, he's 99% certain he shouldn't be here. But now he can't stop thinking of all the things he'd let you do to him.
Will your mutual attraction pay off for the both of you?
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-> STATS
Pairing: Daichi Sawamura x Stripper!Reader (get that bread!)
Rating: M for Mature, MDNI
Warnings: My take on a corruption kink except Daichi's the one getting corrupted
Tags: Corruption, strangers to lovers, smut I tell you, filthy filthy smut with my husband, strip club au, oral (m receiving), p in v, creampie, a bit of choking (like a tiny bit), hair pulling, nasty nasty f*cking with my husband, sex in public (sorta, it's in a public restroom), a little dominant confident Reader (if I missed anything y'all can let me know in the DM's)
Word Count: 6.3K
Author's Note: I knew the moment I saw Mint's post . : HERE : . that I had to write something about it. They obligingly gave me the go ahead to be inspired so off I went a-writing. Obviously, this might be considered mild corruption by some but to me? This was like I went into a blackout and woke up not knowing what year it was. So, here you go, enjoy some nasty filthy smut with my love!
-> LINKS
Main Masterlist
HQ Masterlist
Playlist
Moodboard
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“Rent’s due on Monday,” your roommate reminds you, concern masked with sympathy clear on her face. She’s not trying to be mean or overbearing but damn it, the stress of the situation makes you want to snark back. But you don’t.
“Do you have your half?” She nods. You nod back decisively. “I’m working tonight. Fridays are good days to work. It’s my first one without shadowing anyone. I’ll have the rest of my half in tips, don’t worry.” Her face brightens as she pours herself a glass of orange juice, sunlight streaming in the kitchen window of the tiny two-bedroom apartment you share with her.
“Thank god. The landlord’s being an ass again. We’ve been late one time. I have half a mind to give him a list of all the things wrong in this shithole instead of the check.” You roll your eyes conspiratorially but in reality, you don’t know if you’ll make your half in tips or not. Maybe your boss will give you an advance. You’ll talk to him tonight. He was surprisingly reasonable so the odds were at least in your favor.
Either way, you’ll get the money. You just hope you’ll be able to put the nervous energy thrumming through your veins to good use.
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Daichi Sawamura should not have come here tonight. The guys in the office had convinced him, said there was a new pretty girl who was exactly his type. But this place was not the sort he was used to coming to. It wasn’t that this establishment was a bad one or that he had any problem with it; people had to make money how they could. Empowerment and autonomy and all that. It was more that he felt a little inadequate if he was being completely honest with himself. He wouldn’t know what to do with someone from here. He was used to good girls, the ones who had a routine and didn’t like anything too kinky. Which was also fine. But there were things he wanted to try, had a suspicion he would like that he just couldn’t ask of anyone he’d been with. He scrubbed a hand over his face, realizing the conversation he was having completely in his head was stressing him out.
“Dai, bro, just relax. She’s pretty. You better tip her good but you don’t have to talk to anyone but me and the bartender if you don’t want to. Just enjoy the show.” Kuroo smirks at his friend; it has been a long week. It’s not like he doesn’t deserve to wind down. Part of him just wishes he was doing it in the comfort of his home, with his favorite ramen from around the corner and a good movie. But who knows, maybe he’s getting complacent.
So he sits in the seat Kuroo has pulled out for him, a front-row spot directly in the middle of the runway. Right in front of the center pole. The seats are comfortable and he’s got a whiskey neat in his hands. He can feel a little of the stress release from the muscles in his traps, can feel his jaw unclench just in the slightest as the first warm sip of whiskey flows down his throat.
This is fine, he reassures himself, pushing work from his brain. Kuroo takes a sip from his own drink, a fruity one that he insists is the most delicious ever but is just a little too sweet for Daichi. The place is in a lull right now, preparing for the next act. But soon there’s a growing murmur from the back. Someone whistles, and a few others catcall. Daichi bristles just a bit, but he can’t even see anything until you hit the steps and it’s then that Kuroo elbows him.
“That’s her,” he says, raising his voice so Daichi can hear over the now thrumming bass. He feels it in his toes, in his chest, in his head. But your steps, the bounce of your tits in a skimpy bright blue bikini top, he feels in his dick. It barely covers anything, just like the matching bottoms. Cute little bows keep them on your hips and your heels are a deep black. As you get closer, your walk slow and sensuous, he can see the peep toe and your fresh French manicure poking through. He tries to adjust his navy suit pants with little success. He’s in so much fucking trouble.
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You strut up the steps, the blinking LED strips embedded into the floor blinking in rhythm with the bass and the rhythm of your hips. You put a little bit of extra attitude into the sway tonight, praying to any higher power that will listen that tonight will be a good one for tips, even though it’s your first show without any supporting performers. Part of you gets it; you’re new. The owner has to make sure you know how to use those doe eyes and amazing tits properly. The other part of you, the one that knows you’re hot and knows exactly what you’re doing, wanted to smirk a little when your boss had said you wouldn’t get a Friday on your own until you’d completed two weeks of bartending and shadowing.
Your hard work has paid off though, and when you take your place at the center of the runway, you know you have your audience hooked even before dancing. There’s one guy in particular, right below you. He got arguably the best seat in the house along with his friend. You’ve seen the friend before, all confidence, slicked-back black hair, and a steamy attractive smile. Your coworkers say he’s pretty regular and always tips well. Thank god. The one next to him though, you don’t know anything about him except for the fact that the five stages of something flow across his face as you make eye contact with him. The low lighting does nothing to hide the blush flushing from the open neck of his crisp white button up to his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose. He’s got a wad of cash already set casually on the bar top in front of him.
You smile, bright and unguarded, knowing. You’ll have the rest of Monday’s rent if he’s an indication of the rest of the customers that will be coming in tonight. He turns away, uncomfortable. Aw, how sweet. So unlike some of the slimy patrons you’re used to. Something you don’t like trips low in your belly. The biggest rule was no sex with any of the customers. It was in place for a reason and a majority of the time was a good one. You remind yourself of it as the song for your first dance starts playing over the speakers.
Buss it, buss it, buss it, buss it
Is you fuckin’? Two shots, fuck it
You take a deep breath, hands on the shiny silver pole, and wrap one leg around it. The metal is cold to the touch but something else has goosebumps crawling up your bare skin. When you spin, turning in the new guy’s direction, your suspicions are confirmed that the feeling is not the rest of the eyes on you but his. And his are suddenly, somehow, the only eyes you want to perform for. So you do.
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Daichi can feel Kuroo snap to attention next to him; he can’t blame him. You’re stunning and you know it. You look like maybe you shouldn’t know how to do this so well, but none of that matters as all coherent thoughts leave Daichi’s head when you spin and drop, rolling your hips so your ass faces him. You turn and look at him as you rise slowly, a deliciously naughty smile still all over that pretty little mouth. He rushes to take a sip of his drink, drums his fingers on the bartop, runs them through his hair, anything to occupy his hands. Because he knows the only place they really should be is all over you. Oh, the things he would let you do to him. He’d do anything for you. He takes another gulp of whiskey, disappointed when he drains the heavy glass.
Oh, shit. Oh, shit. He knew you were making eye contact with him but when you get on all fours and crawl to him like some lethal jungle cat, the end of the song nearing, he knows he’s in for it. And he’s okay with that. Any doubts he had, about being here at least, have vanished completely. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him but he leans forward to meet you where you are at the edge of the stage. The crowd is roaring around him, the cheers only growing louder at the chemistry shooting like electricity through the air between the two of you. They’re jealous cheers he thinks, although he’s sure as hell not looking away long enough to check anyone’s expressions to confirm.
“Got anything good for me, pretty boy?” Your voice is pitched low as you blink big eyes at him, a smirk playing on your lips. Because, goddammit, he is pretty. Prettier than any other patrons you’d ever catered to. You would not mind if he came to be one of your regulars, regardless of any funds that might be exchanged. You would not mind if he came regularly—in your cunt, on your ass, on your tongue… A girl could take her pick with a man like him. Thick dark hair, glittering brown eyes, full lips. A barrel chest and wide shoulders to boot. No sex with the customers, no sex with the customers, no sex with the customers…
You watch, heat pooling low in your belly, as he unbinds the cash you had noticed earlier. You can’t quite figure him out. Because he’s making eye contact with you as he spreads the folded bills, licks his thumb, and pulls out two crisp Benjamins but there is a nervous tremor in his large hands as he passes the bills to you. Your eyes widen, the act dropping momentarily before you catch yourself and push out your bottom lip in a pout.
“Hm, a girl should get a little more than that for such a good performance, don’t you think?” You are completely used to this, the schpeel. You’ve done it thousands of times at the last place you worked and hundreds more at this club. It’s part of the persona within these walls. Mystery man is apparently not used to acting this way. You can see the war within him as you take the bills and he leans back, trying to be casual but every line of him is taught like a rubber band about to break.
“You here all night?” Don’t give anyone your schedule. If they like you enough, they’ll figure it out on their own by being a regular paying customer. You nod, liking this new game. Toeing around something you would normally consider dangerous, if only for all the variables far out of your control. But that makes it all the more fun, especially when he clicks his tongue behind his teeth and replies “Good, then so am I. I have more where that came from. Do you?”
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Kuroo is watching the interaction with a gaping mouth. Daichi doesn’t have a clue where this new side of him is coming from. Except. Except he does. And it feels damn good. Despite being sure it is glaringly obvious that he is leaping so far out of his comfort zone, you seem to be very receptive. He shouldn’t be entertaining the idea of staying all night. He could use some sleep. But he could also use that mouth around his cock. You probably have rules, rules that should be followed, for your safety. Daichi knows he’s safe, but you don’t. He most definitely should not ask for your number or give you his or ask what time you’re off. You shouldn’t answer him.
But you do, nodding earnestly when he asks if you’ll be here all night. He has no choice. There’s something about you that he can’t shake off. The extra cash is of no consequence to him, and maybe, just maybe… No, he won’t let that thought go further. He won’t imagine how you’d look on your knees, or bouncing on his cock. He won’t imagine you writhing beneath him or securing him to his headboard with those cuffs he’d bought but never gotten to use. He won’t imagine you breathily calling him pretty boy again even though, fuck, he wishes you would so, so bad.
“What’s your name,” you ask before you can stop yourself, before you rise to your feet. The rules here are good ones, meant to keep both the patrons and performers safe.  You’d worked at other establishments before that didn’t care so much about safety so much as they cared about money.  Your radar has never been off in the past and maybe that shouldn’t be enough for you but everything about Mystery Man makes you want to break every rule ever set before you.  There’s something about him that makes you want to risk it all.  You want to hear him whimper and you’d place bets that you could get him to do it in record time.  Even now, his breathing is shallow and he seems unable to answer you.  His friend leans over, elbowing him into action.
“His name’s Daichi.  And mine’s Kuroo.  Ya know, in case you wanted to know.”  His smile is genuine, not creepy at all.  You return the grin as you stand before turning back to Daichi.  He straightens a little, snapped back to reality by his friend.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say to Kuroo.  He is attractive, just not who you have your eyes set on.  But it’s good information to pass along to your coworkers.  Judging by his tailored suit that fits just as good as Daichi’s, you’d wager his job pays like his friend’s.  The music swells again, the DJ cueing to your next song.  “Kuroo, make sure your friend doesn’t go anywhere.  Tonight’s for him.”  Kuroo scoffs in friendly disbelief at Daichi’s luck.
“I’m hauling you to the club more often,” he says to Daichi, who flashes a quick small smile.  Oh god, that smile could bring anyone you know to their knees.  It could certainly do it to you.  That smile alone could get you to do anything Daichi would ask.  You point at Kuroo as you take your place at the center pole again.
“I’m holding you to that, Kuroo.”  You brace your hands one over the other on the pole, and shake your ass for all it’s worth.
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Body crazy, curvy, wavy, big titties, little waist.
Daichi’s going to have a stroke, he just knows it.  He can feel the veins in his forehead and neck bulging.  The blood has flowed elsewhere too.  His cock is so hard it feels painful.  There are several different ways he could get relief, most of which he should not be considering seeking in a public area.  But it’s unbearable and there’s no way he’s going to let himself come in front of all these other people.  He waits for the end of your current number and then he’s standing so fast his chair screeches out behind him; a couple of people look his way but for the most part, you’ve got everyone’s attention.  Kuroo glances sideways at his friend; he doesn’t say anything, just smirks as Daichi tosses another hundred on the bar top, telling Kuroo to give it to you before rushing to the bathroom.
He makes his way down the hall and notices there are several doors marked RESTROOM in bold capital letters.  Thank god there are single-person stalls.  He stumbles into one, shutting the door and locking it with shaking hands.  The music is still audible, even here; it seems to have dropped to a low steady hum.  Intermission.  Perfect.  Daichi turns to the sink and splashes cold water on his face, one last attempt to snap himself out of this fucking trance.  Because that’s what this has to be.  He’s getting all hot and bothered over someone who he doesn’t even know.  And god, he wants to think that you like him but he knows he’s tipping good and he’s not one of those creeps that can’t recognize it’s your fucking job.
The image in the mirror is one that almost shocks him; his eyes are glazed, and his hair’s a mess.  Just once, he just needs to come once and then he can stay here until the end of the night like he said he would.  He’ll tip you like a good customer would.  Then he’ll leave and he’ll never come back.  Because this?  This is Daichi out of control and he’s not sure that’s a good thing.  Maybe he should go back to making love to nice girls in his king-sized bed.  Yes, that’s what he’ll do.  He’ll leave here and he won’t come back and he’ll never think of you again.
Daichi unbuckles his belt, the metal of the buckle clanking as he yanks his zipper down.  He lets out a pained breath, his cock straining against his underwear.  He slips his hand into the elastic band, taking it into his hand and bringing it out into the air.  He backs up to the wall, the cool air offering little comfort for the engorged head, and closes his fist around himself.  A breath comes fast and heavy out of his mouth as he starts jacking himself off slowly, trying to make the moment last.
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You watch as Daichi stands abruptly, so quickly and sharply that he almost topples his chair over.  You watch as he tosses another bill on the bar top, leaning in to say something to Kuroo.  You watch as he throws one last glance your way before beelining to the bathrooms.  Idiot.  Absolute idiot is what you are because you’re making your way off the runway, ignoring the audience as a low boo goes through the crowd.  Your boss catches your eye from the end of the bar and waves you over.
“What the hell is going on?”  It’s not said unkindly but more with an air of annoyance.  This is your first Friday night on your own and you might be blowing it.  But you don’t care.  You put on a fake wince and point at your head, trying to look as contrite and imploring as possible.
“I’m so sorry, I know it’s my first Friday and I’m so grateful.  But I’ve really gotta pee and I’ve got this horrible headache starting.  Can I take ten?  Just ten minutes, enough time for an ibuprofen to set in while I go to the bathroom, and then I’ll be back out.  Please.”  You put those big eyes back to use, blinking slow and tilting your head slightly like you’re trying to relieve the pain of your fake headache.  Your boss squints his eyes but doesn’t protest as he pulls a bottle of Advil from behind the bar.  He hands you a couple with a glass of water.
“Ten minutes.  Go to the bathroom.  Take a breather.  Then get your ass back out there.  I’ve seen the business you’re encouraging after two sets.  You’ll be back up there as one of my main performers if you keep up the good work.”  You smile as you throw the pills back with the water and hurry in the direction of the restroom, pulling on one of the extra robes from the bar.  Now to find Daichi.
A couple is making out in the hallway; you brush past them and knock quietly on the first door.  A voice answers quickly that the stall is occupied but it’s not Daichi’s voice.  You knock on two more doors before getting to the last one.  You suppose he could have gone into the multi-stall restroom but you’d seen the look on his face when he’d stood and you’d bet all the cash he’d given you so far that he wasn’t coming back here to take a piss.  You rap your knuckles on the last single-person stall.  You’re rewarded with his voice coming from the other side.
“There’s someone-ha-there’s someone in here!”  He can barely get the words out; you know what’s going on in that stall and you want to help.  You rub your thighs together, realizing you’re already getting wet.
“Daichi, it’s me.”  This is stupid.  Maybe he doesn’t even like you that much.  Maybe you’re just some stripper at a strip club.  There’s a heavy silence now, almost solid enough that you could cut it with a knife.  Another pause and you’re getting ready to leave, cursing your confidence for all that it’s getting you, but then you hear the click of the door unlocking.  He opens it but only just so.  Still, it’s an invitation and one you are eager to accept.  You open the door just wide enough to slip through to shield yourself from any potential wandering eyes in the hall.  The scene inside the stall nearly wrecks you.
Daichi has backed up against the wall, as far away from you as humanly possible.  It’s so obvious that he’s been jacking himself off. His hair is messy, his eyes wild like he was already on the brink. He’s desperately trying to cover his cock with his hands and even though they’re large, they can’t cover it completely. You meet his gaze, which he tries to avoid, his eyes fluttering left then right with shame, before finally settling on you. Something trips across your skin.
“Babe, let me help you with that,” you whisper as you direct your line of sight to his cock. It twitches as you move closer, slowly, as if you’re approaching a cornered animal. Daichi groans a little when you reach him, one hand steadying on his shoulder and the other reaching up to touch his face.
“This is—this is not what it looks like, I swear. I promise I’m not some creep, I just—” You put a single finger softly to his lips, making sure he’s got his eyes on you. They widen just a bit. In the brighter light of the bathroom, you can see how rich the color of his irises are, golden brown like sunlight streaming through an autumn wood, or espresso, or something corny like that. Fuck the rules.
“Daichi, can I kiss you?” The question is out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. His mouth drops open but his eyes rove from yours down to your lips, then your covered chest, and back up. Finally, he nods so you guide his face down to yours and kiss him. His lips are soft and warm and pliable. He makes a little sound in the back of his throat, so unlike the image he’d put out walking in this place with his fine, tailored suit and stack of cash. Your hand slips from his shoulder and moves down the ridge of his pectoral, then lower still to the hard planes of his stomach. You trail your fingers over the now wrinkled fabric, close to his undone belt and open pants. His cock jumps against your abdomen past his hands and he gasps. “Is this okay?” You ask the question, certain that Daichi just needs the chance to give in. He nods again so you smooth your hand lower until it wraps around his cock.
Daichi’s head thunks against the wall of the bathroom as another sharp breath explodes from his open mouth. “Oh, fuck,” he growls quietly. You move your hand experimentally, softly, swiping your thumb across the head, gathering the bit of precome at the tip and smearing it about. You can’t decide what you want to look at more: the red bleeding over Daichi’s skin from the neck up, his heaving chest, or how his cock looks in your hands. He’s so… responsive. Each turn of your wrist has him shuddering beneath you. More. You need more. You want to see him beg. And part of you also realizes that he needs this too. You drop to your knees and his eyes snap back open as he watches you. “What’re you doing?”
“Only what you want me to do, Daichi. Unless you don’t want me to?” You don’t even finish your sentence before he’s shaking his head. He wraps his hand around yours, enveloping it, and moves it once, twice, over himself. A thought occurs to you, one you’re denying even as you ask him “Daichi, have you ever come down anyone’s throat?” The answer is obvious but you still feel incredulous as he tells you no. The veins in his hands are bulging and he’s still, like the calm before the storm. You lean in, maintaining eye contact, as you blow a breath over his cock. “Do you want to?”
It’s like you flipped a switch. Daichi, slowly now so you have time to pull away if you want to, curls his fingers in your hair, stroking them along your scalp. “Yes, please.” He whispers it, certain this is a dream. This has to be a fucking dream. He’s had a blow job before but never has he ever asked to come in someone’s mouth. He’s a clean guy but he’s not clueless; he just assumed most people thought it was gross and never had a problem with the fact that no one wanted to do that. At least not anyone he had been with. But, oh, he’d thought about it, lots of times. Most of those times in one night.
His pupils are blown wide as you lick your lips and take just the tip, swirling your tongue over the head. His skin is smooth, molten hot. The way your eyes never leave his is something else entirely and when you hollow out your cheeks and relax your throat to take all of him, he thinks he might die. He’s trying to maintain some semblance of control but it is already dwindling to nothing. There’s a coil building in his abdomen. Not yet he thinks viciously. Not yet. You take a few more pulls before releasing him with a pop. Frantic, he feels frantic. Maybe you decided you didn’t want to do this and he’d have to be okay with that, he couldn’t blame you but god damn—
“Daichi, eyes on me.” The man’s Adam’s apple bobs as he locks in on you again. “Let go, babe. Show me how you want it. Pull my hair. Set the pace. And when you’re gonna come, you come down my throat. Nowhere else, you got it? I’ve got five more minutes. Think we can get you there, pretty boy?” He nearly blacks out when you say those words he needed to hear again. Oh, yes, yes he’s sure you can. His eyes search yours once more before fisting his hand in your hair, tightening experimentally. You smile around his cock, deep-throating him once more, but waiting expectantly. He’s not going to come back from this. You’ve ruined anyone else for him. And he’s accepted his fate.
The moment he lets go, the moment he breaks down whatever wall is holding him in place, you can sense it. You place your hands on his thighs as he pulls you nearly all the way off before shoving you back down. Your eyes water just a bit but you feel the slick gather between your thighs. Yes, the girl inside of you that wants to see him to the end hisses. He sets the pace, a strong and quick one, but somehow still gentle. If you said you needed to stop now, you somehow know he’d do so immediately. He twists a little more, angling your head just how he wants it. You set your teeth down ever so lightly just to see….
Daichi whimpers and gasps, the sound nearly a sob on his lips. You swirl your tongue again and suck. “Ha—shit. Just. Just like that,” he grits out as he grips tighter. It hurts a little, your hair and your knees, but the pain swirls with the pleasure in a delicious slide of skin against skin. Your nails dig into his thighs again before he takes one of your hands and closes it around the base of his cock. You grip, working your wrist along with your mouth. He bucks against you, a jerky movement. “I’m close, fuckfuckfuck I’m close. I’m gonna come.” His voice lies somewhere between a bark and a whine. He can’t decide if he wants you closer, or farther, to stop or keep going. His brain is short-circuiting. He tries to pull back just a little bit, but you won’t let him in the best way possible.
You quirk your wrist and tilt your head in just a certain way… Daichi cries out, long and broken, as he curls in over you, his orgasm washing over him in waves so intense his vision goes black. His entire body shudders with his release, his form towering over you as he spurts ropes of come all the way down your throat. You milk him for all he’s worth. Not a single drop is getting away from you, no way in hell. Next time, you want him to come in your pussy. Next time? God, you want there to be a next time. He’s still leaning over you when his breathing slows and steadies; his hands are bracing themselves on your back rubbing soothing circles there with his thumbs. He helps you to your legs and steadies you for a moment.
The silence stretches on as you look at each other, both a little shocked at what just conspired. Daichi slowly puts himself back into his pants and you help him buckle his belt. You’re both on the verge of saying something either extremely brave or extremely stupid with each moment that passes. You’re about to make the first move again when he reaches up and takes your jaw in his hand, running a thumb along the corner of your mouth to gently push the last of his spend into your mouth. You lean into the touch and welcome his finger, sucking it clean just like his dick. He thinks he might be in love with you.
A breathless giggle comes out of you as you back away just a fraction, trying to give yourself space from the startling sensation fluttering in your stomach like butterflies. Your boss is gonna kick your ass if you don’t get back out on the floor. “I would invite you to my place to continue this after I’m off but it’s a little crowded and the walls are thin,” you say, hoping against hope that he wants more just as much as you do. There’s no room for doubt when he leans in and kisses you, deep and slow, tasting himself in your mouth.
“That’s no problem, princess. If you’re still feeling this when you’re off, I’ve got a penthouse all to myself.” Oh, there it is—the swagger you expected him to have. Your eyes glitter as you smooth out your hair, knowing it still looks good enough to perform. If anything, the smell of sex and the appearance of your swollen lips will get you better money, as long as your boss doesn’t catch on. You don’t think he will. “I’ll find you at the end of the night.” You nod, suddenly the bashful one.
Somehow, everything that just transpired did so all in your ten-minute break. In fact, you have one minute to spare as you strut back to the runway, giving your boss a wink and blowing a kiss to the stupefied audience.
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“Harder, Daichi, harder.” You can barely get the words out as he thrusts inside of your aching cunt. Your face is pushed into the pillows on Daichi’s king-sized bed, your ass in the air. The sound of skin slapping on skin in the quiet of his room is pornographic but you can’t waste any thoughts on being even remotely embarrassed. Tears stream down your face as he continually hits that spot inside of you that you’ve only been able to hit with a dildo and even then it never came close to this. Daichi’s a machine, the way he keeps going. After you sucked him off and he came so quickly earlier in the night, he was determined to make this one last longer. One of his hands is gripping tightly into the plush of where your hip meets your ass cheek, the other is splayed over your back, even now caressing the skin, alighting it with goosebumps. “Oh, fuuuuuck,” you whine as that same hand snakes around to your neck to pull you up.
His fingers and palm ghost over the skin as he thrusts up into you and it’s all you can do to hold to his thighs for dear life, your nails digging in so hard you’ll know they’ll leave a mark. “Are you close, princess?” He whispers it labored into your ear, his breath hot, his mouth even hotter as he leans in to nip at your pulse point from behind. You nod frantically, almost unable to answer. “Can I come inside, baby? Will you let me? Will you let me be a good boy for you?” His hand moves from your throat to your clit, stroking one slow circle over the oversensitive nub. Thank god for birth control.
“Yes, Daichi, yes, come in my pussy. Oh, god, yes be a good boy for me.” You squeal as he thrusts hard, once, twice, swiping his fingers over your clit again in a more concentrated pattern and you feel your first orgasm of the night sweep over you as Daichi finds his own release with a mangled, animalistic groan.  You think he’s done, especially when he pulls out leaving you feeling way too empty.  But you’re wrong, so, so wrong.  He proceeds to flip you over and push back in, a ring of white forming around where he’s begun thrusting inside of you again.  
“I thought about this all fucking night.”  He surges up over you, grabbing your wrists and pulling them above you.  “I thought about that pretty little cunt around my cock.  I thought about how pretty you’d look laying in my bed.”  One thrust, slow and teasing.  You roll your hips up to meet him, even though your thighs are weak and shaking.  “I’ve never–I’ve never fucked anyone like this before, it’s,” he leans in to suck on your pulse again, runs his tongue over the salty skin there, “magical.”  You whimper beneath him when you feel the familiar coil tightening once more in your belly.  
“Do you think I can make you come again, Daichi?  Can you come for me one more time?”  He groans, sealing his lips over yours as he releases your hands so that can pull him closer into you.  You scrape your nails from the nape of his neck into his hair, and grip, breathless, as his rhythm becomes choppy again.  God, you don’t know how he’s still going.  The two of you are so frenzied, the blood in your veins hotter than a blue flame.  “Look at me when you come, baby, look at me,” you whisper, bringing your hands to his cheeks.  His eyes are glazed, his face strained but still beautiful.  “I’m going to touch myself now, okay?”  His mouth pops open again as he nods, before watching as you wrap one arm around his shoulder and bring your other hand to your clit.  You swipe around his cock, collecting some of the mess you’ve both made there.  You know how to pleasure yourself and with Daichi’s expert stroke, it doesn’t take long before it snaps over you, the walls of your pussy squeezing around him forcing spend from him one more time.  It’s not as explosive as the first time but still enough that you can feel the wet leaking out onto his sheets.  “So good for me, Daichi, look how good you are for me,” you chant as you wring the last of the pleasure from each other.
When it’s over, he stills, pulling out of you and collapsing onto the bed beside you.  There’s a sheen of sweat covering you both.  The cool early morning air coming in Daichi’s open window creates the perfect juxtaposition of sensations.  He reaches over to trace patterns into your palm.  “Can I hold you?”  The question is so sweet, it makes you huff out a laugh.  The man just blew your back out and he asks if he can hold you.  But you are more than willing to oblige him so you roll into his open arm and lay your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.  You wait a moment before looking up at him, relishing the feeling of his fingers now tracing patterns into your arm and shoulder.
“Didn’t you mention something about handcuffs earlier?”  He looks down at you jerkily, a sheepish grin on his face.  You smile mischievously.  You’re going to ruin him.  He’s going to let you.  And he’s going to love it.
“Let me make you breakfast first, yeah?”  You nod and breathe in the smell of him, all sex and musk and expensive cologne.  Neither one of you knows where this is going to go but right now, it doesn’t matter.  You yawn and snuggle closer.
“Just so you know,” you intone sleepily, “I like French toast.”  He laughs softly, his own body relaxing into a lazy slumber.
“Hm, French toast?  I pinned you as a pancake kinda girl.  Good thing I also like French toast and always keep the supplies in to make it.”  His breathing is slow and shallow, matching the rhythm of yours.  The sun peeks over the cityscape around you as the two of you go under, cradled in each other’s arms.
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This work and its digital elements (photo credit to photographer) are © Kait of @kaitsawamura 2024. Please do not alter or copy this work. Please do not repost this work to other platforms without my express permission.
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loviatarsluv-old · 6 months
Note
Request!
I posted details here, it’s for Gale!
https://www.tumblr.com/cherifrog/739699979425333248/anyone-else-interested-in-like-a-super-jealous
YUHHHHH now THIS is what im talkin about!!!!!!!
*cracks knuckles* lets get this party started shall we
(I am so sorry to be answering this literally a million years too late I’ve redone and rewritten this prompt like 100000 times but I finally like this version!!! so here we go!!!)
Gale x AFAB f!tav
rating: oh boy this one is certainly rated M for mature
CW: smut, inappropriate use of mage hand, rough sex, PiV, oral, gale being jealous and going absolutely FERAL
word count: 5.4k
let’s get itttt
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If looks could kill, surely, Astarion would have been long dead— well, even more so— by now. 
Gale was never exactly fond of the pale elf from the start, and he was well aware the feeling was likely incredibly mutual— but gods, he swore he was beginning to actually hate him. 
At least, he hated the way he looked at her. The way he leered at her. The way he purred her name with that practiced and over-rehearsed seductive charm of his. The way he would lock piercing crimson eyes with Gale’s blazing umber ones as he cozied up to her at the fire with that deviant and knowing smirk on his stupid pointy face. The way she would smile at him the warmest, kindest, most hopelessly and adorably oblivious smile in response to the charlatan’s blatant advances. 
Maybe he did hate him, upon further reflection. If only for the last reason alone. 
Astarion would find any way to touch her and be able get away with it— his hand lingering on the small of her back as he passed her, touching her shoulder to get her attention, brushing hair out of her face when stray pieces fell over her eyes— all things that seemed innocent enough until you realized who was doing them and the devious smirk on his face when his gaze would meet that of the wizard that was surely plotting his second untimely demise. 
Though, he could hardly blame him. 
And Gale never got upset with her, of course, he knew it wasn’t her fault and honestly, he truly didn’t blame Astarion for wanting her— gods, who could possibly resist her? 
Certainly not Gale, not even if he tried; and he had tried, to no avail. Yet that didn’t quell his frustration toward the silver haired and equally silver tongued vampire for attempting to swoop in on what was likely the first real chance at mortal love he’d had in a very long time.
He’d spent the early days in their adventure together absolutely beside himself with how taken he was by her nearly instantly. He felt like a smitten schoolboy all over again when he thought about the feeling of her soft but strong hands gripping his as she pulled him from the stone by the nautiloid crash with most impressive ease, the way she looked at him with wonder and curiosity, and even a flicker of something else that he recognized as attraction because he imagined it was mirrored in his own face at the sight of her. 
It was then only worsened by the night that they channeled the weave together and the kiss she’d pictured them sharing— the way their limbs tangled and their lips pressed together softly, then passionately and fervently. Her fingers wrapped in his chestnut tresses and his hands gripping the fabric at her waist— that image will be burnt into the fabric of his mind forevermore, he’s certain. 
Not to mention, the way her pupils dilated and her cheeks flared and flushed a heavenly shade of pink at the way he praised her as she successfully mimicked the incantation and his motions. It was enough to have him panting and attempting to tame the straining erection in his trousers when he retired to his tent that night. 
He thought he’d mastered the art of managing to keep such thoughts like that at bay during his time of isolation as he tried to keep the orb sated and calm and very nonexplosive— but that was before her, after all.
It was pathetically easy at the time, considering his amount of interaction with other humans had gone from healthy to nonexistent entirely so he didn’t have much to think about aside from himself; perhaps when he was truly desperate or feeling especially lonely, he’d think about Mystra and the nights he’d spent in Elysium with her (literally and metaphorically). 
But now, any attempts to be chaste or think chaste thoughts were moot in her presence.
Especially after the night they shared under the stars in the wilderness of the Shadow Cursed Lands.
They’d hardly been able to go more than a few hours without some kind of touch in the days following that perfect evening— whether it be a hand on her lower back, or holding one of her much smaller hands in his as he helped her scale a wall or hop across a boulder that she was more than capable of managing herself. A stolen kiss when no one was looking. Or, if they were lucky, they could steal a few moments alone in some ruined and crumbling crypt where he could bury himself between her thighs and send a silent thank you to whatever gods had a hand in creating a creature as divine as her. 
That being said, they hadn’t been entirely discreet about their affections— not that they really wanted to be. Gale certainly had no reservations about making it known that he was claiming her for himself, despite his gentlemanly nature chastising him for it and reminding himself she was a person, not a prize to be claimed. 
He would never say that she was, anyway, do not mistake it— being raised solely by a woman such as the inimitable Morena Dekarios had beaten into his core that women were not to be claimed or to be owned but to be cherished and treated as your equal. He would never claim otherwise, he couldn’t. 
On the other hand, he was also acutely aware that his were not the only set of eyes that wistfully tracked her every move and every breath throughout the day within their strange band of wayward souls, and a very base part of him needed to send the clearest message he could muster without flat out verbally declaring that she was his. 
It was very unlike him, this sort of possessive and primal nature, but he couldn’t deny that a small fraction of himself that he usually shoved into the deepest recesses of his being loved it for that fact. It was a part of him reserved only for her, as she was the only one who’d ever been able to coax it out of him. 
And thus, he felt absolved of any guilt about the way he glared daggers at the side of Astarion’s head and pictured hurling a fire bolt at the undead man as he spoke to her in hushed tones across camp. 
At least he knew it wouldn’t kill him. Although, he’d probably slit Gale’s throat for singing his singlet in return. 
It was enough to keep the heat in his palm at bay for the time being. 
He tried to discreetly move close enough to hear their conversation, moving toward Wyll’s tent that happened to be just a few paces away from Astarion’s and disguising his intentions as simply having a chat over a glass of wine with the warlock. 
Wyll’s eyes light up as the wizard approaches, shooting him a dashing and very princely smile that he was certain had made many a maiden swoon in his younger years as the duke’s son, galavanting through ballrooms and dragging said maidens to the dance floor after either one too many glasses of brandy or none at all.  
“Gale, my friend! Fancy a glass of wine?” He kindly proposed, tilting the glass in his hand in Gale’s direction. 
Gale offers an almost genuine smile, nodding. “Thank you, Wyll. I think a hearty glass of wine is just what I need at the moment,” he laments with a sigh. 
Wyll disappears for only a moment before returning with a glass and wine bottle in hand. “That bad, huh?” 
Gale gratefully takes the silver glass and holds it out for Wyll to pour the rest of the Amnan Liquer he’d been holding onto since their escapades at the former Rosymorn Monastery turned Githyanki Crèche. 
He turns his body just enough to keep both his lover and the offending vampire in his line of sight, attempting to tune into their conversation and realizing that he can faintly hear the melodic hum of her voice, as well as the silky tones of Astarion’s. 
Firebolt. No, no. 
Wyll’s eyes dart between Gale, then Tav, then Astarion, his eyebrow raising. “Astarion certainly doesn’t lack in the gall department, I’ll give him that.” 
Gale huffs a bitter laugh. “Can’t fault him. As much as I want to.” 
Wyll gently bumps his shoulder into Gale’s with a reassuring smile. “One can’t always be a gentleman, Gale. I respect your restraint, but if I were you, even I would be cutting in on whatever it is that he’s doing with her. Love the fellow, but I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him.” 
Gale goes silent, giving himself a moment to try to catch any of what was being said between them, only hearing the sound of her laughter intermingling with Astarion’s— and suddenly Wyll’s advice had become all the more tempting to follow. 
I could just go over there, he thinks. ‘Assert my dominance’ the old fashioned way. Or…
A wickedly devious idea flutters across his mind, and a smirk forms on his lips. Before he can realize it and stop it, Wyll’s tadpole connects to his, and Wyll snorts as he sees what debauchery Gale’s brain had concocted. 
“She’d have your arse in a second,” he jokingly warns. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 
Gale wanted to listen to reason (Wyll Ravengard being the voice of reason, in this instance) and just do the diplomatic thing as he always did— but a part of him wanted to make a show of it all. To show her as well as everyone else the lengths he’d go to for her. 
He whispers a simple cantrip and waves his hand, blue light glowing from his palm as he calls for a spectral hand to appear before him. He eyes the mage hand for a moment, waving his fingers and watching it as it mirrors his movements with perfect accuracy. A rush of excitement passes through him as he ponders the possibilities, but debates for a moment whether he should— only to hear the lovely melody that was her laughter once again and his decision was sealed. 
He commands the hand to become invisible, the only way for him to tell it was still there was the very faint outline of it that you could only notice if you had been looking for it. He flicks his hand in her direction, commanding it to fly toward her. 
“Your funeral,” Wyll chuckles, taking a long sip from his chalice, eyebrows raised. 
The hand obliges, quickly floating to her but stopping just beside her. She shivers slightly as it grazes her bare shoulder, her head snapping in the direction of the sudden sensation. 
Gale freezes for a moment, praying she doesn’t catch on too soon. When she finally turns her attention back to Astarion, he relaxes, then motions for the hand to gently brush her hair over her other shoulder, causing her to jump and look again, her eyes narrowed as she scans the area. Her gaze lands on Gale, and he tries to remain composed but cannot hide the pleased smirk on his face. She furrows her brows, a look of confusion and suspicion on her face as she turns away once again. She still hadn’t caught on just yet, much to Gale’s delight. 
He continues once again, now commanding the hand to gently caress the back of her neck, the cool sensation of its spectral palm causing goosebumps to rise and her hair to stand on end. She sucks in a sharp breath, causing Astarion’s eyes to snap up to her.
“Everything alright, dear?” He hears Astarion ask, his signature shit-eating grin still on his lips. 
She nods, clearing her throat. “Mhm, sorry, I just— ah, got a bit chilly.” 
He cocks a brow at her. “I would offer to warm you, but I don’t think that I am qualified for the task,” he jokes, causing Gale’s jaw to clench. 
Firebolt. Ooh, better yet, Fireball. Ice knife. Lightning bolt, perhaps?
She laughs, then gasps once again as the hand has now relocated to the front of her, gently tracing the outline of her collar bone. It then follows the curve of the top of her breast, settling between her cleavage for a moment before continuing down further and further, grazing her abdomen before stopping just at the waistline of her breeches. 
“Gods, I shouldn’t be watching this,” Wyll grunts, shaking his head and allowing his gaze to drop to the ground.
She turns and shoots a piercing look at Gale, now fully aware of what was happening. He winks at her, before commanding the hand to continue its journey down her body, ghosting over the spot between her thighs. She squeezes her legs shut tight, in an attempt to quell the heat pooling low in her core despite her rising frustration toward Gale and her embarrassment. 
“Darling, do you need a blanket? Perhaps we could move into my te—”
“I’m fine,” She blurts, loud enough so that she knows Gale hears her, as she refuses to give in to his childish behavior. “What were you saying?” 
As Astarion continues whatever riveting story he’d been telling before she distracted him, she shoots Gale one last pathetic glance, not sure whether she was begging him to stop or keep going. He smirks, taking her pleading eyes as his queue to continue, moving the mage hand southward and grazing her blazing hot center. 
She sucks in another breath, this time a lot quieter, her head falling back that she attempts to play off as if she were simply looking up at the stars. 
Astarion’s head shoots up to look at her again, almost as if he were beginning to get frustrated.
“S-stars are bright tonight,” She stammers, eliciting a chuckle from Gale. He was enjoying this far too much to stop now. 
He wills the hand to press two fingers down right where he knows her clit is, reveling in the way her back arches at the sudden touch, right where he knew she loved it. 
Astarion’s eyebrow raises as he eyes her, her face flushed, her hair in disarray and her legs clamped shut tight. He was— unfortunately for her— very good at reading body language, even more specifically hers, and he was beginning to catch on to her predicament. His eyes dart over toward Gale who was not at all subtle with the devious smirk on his face as his hand continued commanding the spell.
“Your wizard is clever, I’ve got to hand it to him.” He smirks, stifling a chuckle. 
Her eyes go wide, the hot blush in her cheeks only increasing. 
“I’m going to kill him.” She hisses through gritted teeth, before twisting and facing Gale, who could not contain the triumphant grin on his face despite her very displeased expression. 
“Do it out where I can watch, won’t you, darling? I’m quite overdue for a good show.” He calls after her, watching her storm toward Gale, shaking his head and chuckling with delight.
Gale dismisses the spell as he spots her making a very angry beeline toward him, then crosses his arms behind his back innocently as she approaches him. 
“I warned you, you cheeky bastard.” Wyll grumbles, watching with anticipation and vaguely hidden amusement as she stomps toward the wizard beside him with murderous intent. 
Gale offers her a smile as she approaches, to which she only offers a grimace.
“Hello, my love. Feeling alright?” He says equally as innocently, in spite of the devilish grin on his face. 
She shakes her head. “Tent. Now.” 
He raises his hands in defense, shit-eating smirk ever persistent. “Your wish is my command, darling.” He draws out the pet name to mimic the way Astarion says it, earning a rather angry eye roll. 
He trails behind her as she continues her warpath toward his tent, his heart racing as he imagines exactly what he plans to do the second he gets her alone— he’d saved those thoughts for after Wyll’s tadpole’s connection broke from his own to spare him the filthy details. 
She ducks into his tent brusquely, the flap slapping closed behind her before he makes his own way in after her. He chuckles at her ire, and the fact that in any other situation he’d be on his knees begging her for forgiveness in response to her irritation toward him— but this time, he planned on using it much to his advantage. Fuel for the fire, so to speak. 
The second he enters the tent, her wild eyes are on him and she’s standing with her arms crossed over her chest which was still heaving, her face still completely flushed. 
“What the hells is wrong with y—” 
Her tirade is cut off by lips roughly crashing onto hers, her words being instantly smothered then swallowed by him and his tongue and the bittersweet taste of wine on his breath. She wants to fight back but finds her efforts moot as she instantly melts into him, allowing him to maneuver her exactly as he wishes. 
Rough but elegant hands grip her waist, pulling her body flush to his, enough for her to feel the erection straining to be freed from his pants against her lower stomach. The heat that had been coiling and pooling low within her had only reignited with a vengeance now, partially fueled by her anger toward him and mostly fueled by her ever present desire for him. 
His hands migrated to palm the swell of her ass, kneading the plush but still firm flesh that always caught his attention even in the worst moments such as the middle of a tense battle— something he almost felt the need to punish her for, even though it wasn’t truly her fault. 
His tongue explores her mouth hungrily as her hands move to begin undoing the buttons of his linen shirt, before one of his hands catches her wrist and holds it, lacing her fingers through his. He breaks the kiss, dark umber irises pooling with pure liquid lust and carnality as they meet her more perplexed ones. 
Leaving her unspoken questions unanswered, he unbuttons her pants with one hand, yanking them down her legs until she takes it upon herself to kick them off and discard them somewhere on the ground within the tent. He tugs at the bottom edge of her shirt, and she wordlessly grants him permission with only a small nod and a raise of her arms to afford him some ease in ripping it over her head and adding to the growing pile of clothes scattered across the floor of the small space. 
She’s lit only by the soft orange glow of the campfire leaking in through the crack of the tent flap that neither of them had bothered to seal, her skin radiant even in the dimness of the night. He drinks in her frame, eyes skimming along every contour of her body, every rounded edge and every sharp one— even the shadow she cast against the back wall of his tent was erotic, all hips and curves and the most heavenly structure. 
As if she’d been lovingly built by Sune’s own gracious hands. 
“Lay down,” he commands, pointing to the bedroll that he’d preemptively fixed and made extra comfortable with several more layers of blankets, pillows, and furs. “And spread your legs for me.” 
She obliges instantly, quickly but gracefully laying atop the nest of cotton and fur and velvet, her hair splaying around her head and framing her like a halo— only serving to make his already painfully stiff cock twitch against the fabric of his pants and a bead of precum leak from the tip. He feared he may not even be able to make it long enough to be inside of her at this rate. 
“That’s my girl,” he almost moans, his voice low and husky and reverent as he drops to his knees before her, moving to kneel between her legs. “My beautiful girl.” 
She blushes and shyly looks away, her bottom lip caught between her teeth to bite back a smile. He leans over her, gently gripping her chin with his fingers and moving her face back to look at him. “Eyes on me, my love. My love.” He drawls, dragging out his words in hopes that they’d have more time to sink into her precious mind that he cherished just as much, if not more than her wholly divine body. 
Gale was all together a typically patient man. He did almost everything meticulously and gracefully. He would spend hours studying a particular topic just to ensure that he’d get it right the very first time. 
Gale as a lover was no different. 
He’d spent hours and even days at this point learning everything he could about her body— every sensitivity, every weak spot, ticklish spot, every scar or freckle or blemish. The things she was insecure or shy about, the things that would send her eyes rolling back into her head. 
He had become a consummate virtuoso at worshiping her body and what granted her the most pleasure possible. He lavished her in it, bathed her in every ounce of bliss he possibly could until she could no longer speak, much less think properly. 
Tonight was no exception— though he was considerably less delicate than was typical for him, as he hungrily lapped at the heat between her thighs as if it contained the last drop of honey on the face of Faerun. He licked and kissed and sucked and drank in every bit of her essence he possibly could, not stopping even after she’d already come just to wring out every last bit of her pleasure for his own selfish need. The selfish need to taste her, to savor her. To devour her. 
He didn’t stop until she was a tangled mess of shaking limbs and clammy skin and teary eyes, and she whimpered his name like a plea. Whether it were a  plea to stop or to keep going was unclear for both of them. 
He lifted his face, his beard and lips drenched in her slick as he licked the remains of her off of his lips and fingers, causing her to clamp her legs together at the sight. He smirks triumphantly, knowing full well that she was nearing being entirely spent and yet she still wanted more. 
“Please,” she whimpered, leaning up (very unsteadily) to finish unbuttoning his shirt, her fingers fumbling with the buttons and the fabric. He relents and allows her to make her best attempt with her trembling fingers before he takes over for her, lifting it over his head and discarding the linen nearby. 
Her finger gently trails from the dark purple mark of the orb on his chest down the hard planes of his torso until she reaches the waistband of his pants, dipping her finger underneath and tugging at it. Her eyes meet his full of intent, and he feels the tadpole in his head stir as she tries to connect to him. 
I need to suck your cock. Please. 
His eyes darken as he looks at her, the image of her perfectly pink lips wrapped around him searing into his mind— whether it being his own thoughts or hers invading his didn’t matter— but he shakes his head, then severs the connection. 
She frowns, her bottom lip jutting out in a pout. He rubs his thumb along the swollen softness of it as he caresses her chin, tilting her head back slightly to get a better view of the elegant column of her neck. He had plans for the perfect and smooth expanse of the area between her jaw and her clavicle that he soon intended to enact. But not yet. 
“Naughty girl,” he chastises her, but not without a devious smirk and a hint of lustful playfulness. 
She whimpers again, sending goosebumps down his arms and the hair on them to raise on end. “Please, Gale. I want to make you feel good, I need to make you feel good,” she stammers, her eyes peering up at his, wanton and needy. 
It was enough to almost oblige her request, but he knew if her mouth came anywhere near his already all too sensitive cock that he’d come apart at the seams instantly, and that just wouldn’t do. 
“And I need to be inside of you,” he retorts, his voice soft but stern. “I need to claim what’s mine.” He nearly growls. 
Gentleman Gale reprimands him in his mind, but is quickly overtaken by Her Gale— the one that only answers to her and belongs solely to her. The one that hoped with everything in him there was also a part of her that was his and only his. 
Her mouth opens to speak, and he half expects her to yell at him and berate him for reducing her to a prize to be claimed— and is pleasantly surprised when she doesn’t. 
“Please. Please come here, please fuck me,” she begs, the rasp in her voice as she does nothing short of absolutely erotic. 
He needs no further instruction, and quickly removes his pants and undergarments, his erection springing free and already slick with his own desire. She eyes it with a hunger that he recognizes and has to ignore before the temptation to fuck her mouth grows any stronger. 
He presses his strong but gentle hand against her chest, slowly pushing her back against the pillows as he moves to position himself at her entrance, her legs wrapping around his hips and urging him forward impatiently. He taps the side of one of her thighs in warning, rubbing the head of his cock across her already soaked folds to further lubricate it and tease her. 
“Eager little thing, aren’t you?” 
She whines, her voice broken as if she truly might cry if she goes another second without him inside her. “Gale.” 
He chuckles darkly, once again pressing the swollen head of his cock at her entrance, slipping in as slowly as he can manage, mustering every bit of strength and willpower he has left not to just bury himself in her as deep as he can. 
“Tell me,” he commands, his voice low and gruff but still needy, almost desperate. 
She connects the dots instantly, knowing exactly what he wanted. What he craved. “I’m yours, Gale. Only yours.” 
She cries out in shock, slight pain, and pure ecstasy as he harshly snaps his hips into hers, his cock burying to the hilt in her velvet heat. 
Home. This felt like home. 
He knew that he probably should have given her more time to adjust to him, and it was something he’d surely feel guilty about later, but Her Gale wanted her to feel it tomorrow. He wanted her to be reminded of this moment as she goes on about her day through the ache between her legs as she walks, constantly reminding her who fucks her like this, who loves her like this. 
“My pretty girl, my perfect girl,” he chants, his words leaving his lips like a litany of prayer as if he were in a temple of worship. He’d always been a man of religion, but this was holier and more divine than anything he’d ever experienced— even sharing a bed with an actual goddess couldn’t compare. 
She throws her head back, her eyes shut tightly and she desperately grips at the pillows around her to ground herself, her neck on full display. He leans down to place wet kisses in a trail from her jaw to her collarbone, biting and sucking in very obvious spots that she’d be hard pressed to be able to cover in the morning. 
She writhes and moans underneath him, one of her hands moving to grip the back of his head and fist the hair at the nape of his neck, the sensation of her fingers tugging at his scalp blending from slight pain into pure pleasure earning a throaty grunt from him that rumbles in his chest. 
He feels her tighten ever so slightly around him, her walls clenching and pulsing in a sort of warning. He continues his pace, driving her closer and closer to the precipice. 
“Gale, I’m gonna—” 
“I know, sweet girl, I know,” he coos, leaning down and pressing his lips to her sweat slicked forehead, then whispering, “come for me, my love.” 
It wasn’t so much a demand as a desperate request, as his need to feel her come on him and to ride out the waves of her pleasure alongside her became almost devastating. 
To urge her on even further, he slipped a hand down and began to rub quick circles around her clit as he pounded into her until she saw stars— it wasn’t long before she completely shattered underneath him, tumbling into free fall off the edge of the best orgasm she’d ever had. 
She cries out a jumbled mess of I love you and I’m yours with his name sprinkled throughout as she reaches the peak and dives off the edge, her hips rocking upward into Gale’s as he continues to fuck her through her orgasm. He feels himself quickly approaching his own finish line, the feeling of her cunt pulsing and hugging his cock tighter and tighter driving him further and further. 
A few more thrusts and he was done for, spilling everything he had in her and grunting her name as he came, the entire fiber of his being ripping apart and repairing itself as he went limp above her, barely having enough strength to brace himself with his hands on either side of her head as he gripped the pillows so that he doesn’t crush her under his weight. 
They both fall silent apart from the sounds of their breathing steadying and slowing to a calm and regular pace, the only other sounds being that of the distant crackling of the fire and the even more distant sounds of their companions still wrapping up for the night and preparing for bed. 
Her eyes flutter open to find his in the dim light of the fire, her hand reaching up to caress his cheek. He sighs and leans into her touch, turning his head to place a kiss to the center of her palm, the coarse hair of his beard scratching her skin and tickling it, making her giggle quietly. 
“I’m still mad at you, you know,” she jokes, causing him to nibble at the skin of her palm playfully. “That wasn’t funny, Gale.” 
He smiles and reaches for a rag to clean her up with. “I had hoped this would serve as an adequate apology.” 
She sucks in a breath as he pulls out and rubs the rag across her still sensitive and throbbing core, her hips bucking upward slightly with some discomfort. “You expected to fuck me into complicity?” 
He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest as he finishes cleaning her, then tosses the rag aside and lays beside her, pulling her onto his chest. 
“Not exactly,” he says, earning a disbelieving grimace from her. “I am sorry, for what it’s worth. I just— I don’t think you realize that seeing the way he interacts with you and the way you interact with him is nothing short of agonizing for me.” 
She saw the hurt in his eyes even in the dark— the ache and the gnawing need for reassurance. She understood it all too well, as she’d done the same when the topic of Mystra would get brought up in the earlier days of their relationship. 
“There is no other set of arms I’d rather have wrapped around me right now than yours. There is no other company I’d rather share in the way I share in yours. Don’t you know that?” She asked, shifting so that she’s leaning over him, his big brown eyes resembling those of a puppy being told it was a good boy. 
“I am yours, Gale Dekarios,” she whispers. “Body and soul.” 
Relief and pure elation smoothed out the concern from his features. He pulled her closer to him, until she was mostly on top of him and her head rested on his chest and he could press a long kiss against the top of her head, breathing in her scent and shutting his eyes, both of them drifting into a peaceful slumber. 
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weemssapphic · 1 year
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Hello, friend!
Would you be so kind as to write a one-shot where r is a local boudoir photographer in Jericho and Larissa gets a shoot done(for whatever reason)? Then it becomes an often thing and r just can't stand seeing such a beautiful woman single ;) maybe some fluffy smut at the end?
A/N: HELLO FRIEND. i'm actually embarrassed looking at the date on this ask and i request your sincerest apologies. i really loved writing this and i hope you enjoy it!
All My Pictures of You
Words: ~5.4k | ao3 link in title
Content/warnings: mutual pining, boudoir photography, lingerie, nsfw (smut) - vaginal fingering
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Larissa sat in her car in front of the small cottage, her gaze shifting nervously to her watch. 2:57 pm. Her appointment was at 3. She still had a few minutes - she still had time to turn around, to reverse out of the long, winding drive and send an apologetic cancellation email.
No, Larissa told herself firmly. She would go through with this, she wouldn’t back out now. With a deep breath, Larissa wiped her clammy palms on her skirt and stepped out of her car, striding up to the door of the cottage and knocking firmly.
You opened the door quickly, as if you’d been waiting for her, a wide smile on your face as you introduced yourself and gestured for Larissa to come in. Her heart stuttered in her chest as she gave you a once over - you’d been so kind and attentive over the phone, and your voice had been rather attractive, but she hadn’t expected you to be so beautiful. Now she found herself even more nervous than before.
“Please, sit for a moment,” you said warmly, guiding Larissa into your small, homey living room. She perched herself awkwardly at the edge of your couch, her back stiff as a board. “What would you like to drink? I have water, coffee, tea, wine, champagne…”
Larissa clasped her hands in her lap, picking subconsciously at her cuticles. “Wine would be lovely, I suppose.” She was definitely going to need a glass if she was going to get through this afternoon.
“White or red? Wait - let me guess.” You tapped your finger on your lip, giving Larissa a not-so-subtle once-over that had Larissa blushing profusely. “Red?”
Larissa nodded, her heart rate picking up considerably at your adorably wide smile as you sauntered into what she could only assume was your kitchen, before returning a few moments later with a large glass of wine and a glass of water.
She accepted the wine gratefully, muttering out a nervous “thank you” as you sat down across from her and took a sip of your water.
“Before we get started, I just wanted to go over some of the notes I made during our call last week, just to make sure we’re on the same page.”
Larissa nodded, watching as you plucked a notebook off the coffee table and set it on your lap.
“Seeing as you said that this is your first boudoir shoot, I want it to be as comfortable as possible for you. My only ‘rule’ is that you speak up if you feel uncomfortable or self-conscious, and we can go ahead and work through that or stop the session, okay?”
Larissa nodded again, taking a healthy swig of her wine and feeling her cheeks glow with warmth.
“Now I know you’ve come with your hair and makeup already done, as you’d said you would, but I can do touch-ups throughout the afternoon if you’d like. You said you wanted to do the shoot in lingerie, is that still the case?”
“Yes,” she replied breathlessly, feeling more than a little flustered at the prospect of undressing in front of a stranger - a very attractive stranger.
“I assume you’re wearing it right now?” You raised an eyebrow and Larissa nodded sheepishly, her cheeks tinged pink. “I’ll show you where the bathroom is, then, for you to freshen up and get ready, and then we can move into my studio space. Do you have any questions for me before we get started?”
Larissa shook her head no and watched you stand, following your lead as you padded down the hall and opened a door for her. “Take all the time you need.”
Stepping into the bathroom, Larissa shut the door behind her and slumped back against it, squeezing her eyes shut.
She still didn’t know what had compelled her to book a boudoir shoot. She supposed it came down to a desire to feel young and attractive again - years of all-nighters to catch up on work, the stress of running an entire school coupled with dealing with children and constantly putting out fires left her feeling more than a bit run-down. Her age was showing, her crows feet and laugh lines becoming more prominent with each passing day, and she couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious.
The photographer had gotten back to her quickly and suggested an introductory call - despite her nerves, she felt too bad to call the whole thing off and say “never mind”, so she’d gone through with the call. You’d seemed nice enough, very enthusiastic but also very considerate when she’d explained she’d never done something like this before.
And now, Larissa stood in your bathroom, slowly removing her clothing with shaking hands to reveal a red lace bodysuit. It wasn’t particularly revealing as far as lingerie went, yet Larissa blushed furiously as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. It wasn’t that she didn’t find herself beautiful - despite her reservations about her own aging, she did possess a certain confidence in her appearance. But the thin lace left little to the imagination, particularly in comparison to her usual, more conservative attire, and Larissa was about to pose in front of a total stranger with a camera - the implications were just now beginning to hit her.
It’s now or never. Larissa opened the bathroom door almost robotically, slipping out into the narrow hallway. You seemed to have heard the creak of the floorboards, because you poked your head out of a room at the end of the hallway and beamed at her - her heart skipped a beat and she swallowed nervously.
“I’m in here,” you said brightly, waiting for Larissa to walk the length of the hallway and join you in your studio. 
The studio space was a large, well-lit room at the back of your cottage. Lots of natural light filtered in through the window, spilling onto a beautiful, vintage-looking rug. An intricately framed mirror stood across from a large bed with a plush, velvet headboard that took up much of the wall.
Larissa didn’t have much time to think about how awkward she felt - from the moment she stepped into the room you were talking up a storm, walking her through the room, showing her your camera and equipment, cracking jokes. She couldn’t help but be enamored with you, and she found herself relaxing slightly as your enthusiasm began to rub off on her.
“I was thinking we could start at the window, the lighting is really great there and it doesn’t feel quite as intimate as shooting in the bed.” You directed Larissa towards the window seat - she perched at the edge of the cushions, unsure of how to pose, but you took over for her in an instant. “Can you lean back against the wall a bit? And turn your head to the right? Just like that.”
Larissa followed your instructions, hearing the shutter of your camera click, her face flushing. She was certain she looked ridiculous, but you kept instructing her to pose and encouraging her happily as if she wasn’t blushing like a schoolgirl - after a few minutes, Larissa found her blush fading slightly, feeling more confident in herself.
~~~
You felt the air leave your lungs when you saw Larissa standing in your hallway in nothing but a lacy bodysuit, looking terribly yet adorably awkward. The next minutes as you started the shoot were no better - you were definitely overcompensating for your attraction to the woman with over-the-top enthusiasm, over-explaining your process and trying to bring the blonde just a bit of comfort.
Being fairly good at your job, you could tell that Larissa was beginning to relax - she wasn’t blushing as much, her posing was less tense, her smile came more naturally. It was then that you were able to admire her beauty in full - and, God, what a stunning woman she was.
She was perched on the window seat, overlooking your lush garden. Sunlight hit her face at the perfect angle, casting a soft shadow across the left side of her face and creating a subtle halo around her perfectly coiffed white hair. Her eyes sparkled like sapphires, bright and clear, and her pale, freckled skin was practically glowing in contrast to the red lace.
You tried your best not to ogle her - she was your paying client, after all, and the last thing you wanted was to make her feel uncomfortable. You normally had no trouble with this, but you’d also never been this attracted to a client before.
“You are very beautiful,” you whispered - the words left your mouth before you could stop them, and your heart skipped a beat as Larissa’s gaze met yours, those deep blue eyes widening and her lips parting slightly as your compliment registered in her brain. Then she smiled, ducking her head shyly, and it was the most breathtaking thing you’d ever seen - you quickly snapped a few photos, Larissa’s smile widening as she heard the sound of the shutter.
~~~
“I’ll upload the photos tonight and start the editing process,” you told Larissa as you led her to your front door. “I have a light workload this week so I should be able to send you the photos in 2-3 days, and then if you want physical copies of any of them, I can help you get those printed.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it,” Larissa replied with a genuine smile - it was your turn to blush. “I’ll be awaiting your email, then.”
“I’ll try not to keep you waiting,” you teased lightly, noting how Larissa’s pupils widened slightly at your tone.
You watched Larissa walk to her car, noting how long and toned her legs looked in her heels - you should have asked her to keep those on, you thought to yourself. Closing the door, you rushed back into your studio and grabbed your camera, then settled on your couch with your laptop - you couldn’t wait to edit her photos.
It was something that kept you busy for the entire evening, and most of the following morning. One of your regulars canceled on you at the last minute, so you ended up having some extra time before your next late afternoon shoot to finish up the editing. You wanted to be done quickly for Larissa, eager for her reaction to the pictures, but it was proving to be quite difficult - your eyes would get stuck on each picture, drinking in the details and getting so lost in simply looking that the editing took ages.
You’d never been this affected by a client before. Sure, you took pictures of beautiful, scantily clad women all the time, you’d been doing it for years at this point. And some of them you did find really attractive. But they were still just clients to you - beautiful, certainly, but strictly off-limits.
But Larissa? There was something about her that captivated you, that made it nearly impossible to think straight - it was entirely inappropriate, but every time you’d caught her smiling in your direction, you’d been overcome with the urge to lunge forward and kiss her senseless. Even now, looking at the pictures you’d taken, your heart skipped a beat.
There was one in particular that you couldn’t seem to stop sneaking glances at. Larissa was lying on her back, her long legs bent, her arms draped over her head. You’d taken the picture from above, and you’d been cracking jokes hoping to make her laugh. And laugh she did - it was loud and unabashed, and it left her with a beaming grin stretching from ear to ear and little crinkles around her eyes. The bridge of her nose crinkled the tiniest bit, bright blue eyes scrunching up. You were grateful for your years of experience, because the sight briefly made you forget how to work your camera - your finger worked on autopilot to snap photos while your brain short-circuited.
Once you finished the editing, you uploaded the photos to your cloud and sent Larissa an email with the link - butterflies erupted in your stomach as your finger hovered over the “send” button, and you realized how fucked you truly were.
~~~
Late the following afternoon, you had another shoot - Sam, a woman you’d taken pictures of on occasion and developed an easy rapport with. After she left, you decided to make yourself some dinner before doing some editing for the evening. Just as the water for your pasta had started to boil, your phone began to vibrate in your pocket.
“Hello?”
The voice at the other end of the line - smooth, sultry, British - made your heart stutter in your chest.
“Hello, this is Larissa. Weems.”
“Oh, hi! I’m assuming you’re calling about the edited photos I sent you?” You tried hard to keep your voice level, to treat her as you did every other woman you took photos of - it proved to be a challenge however, as your voice rose nervously in pitch. Oh, God, what if she was unhappy with them? What if she hated them? What if- 
“Yes, I wanted to thank you again. I wasn’t expecting them to turn out so well, I- well, I’m unsure what I was expecting, but they really have turned out beautifully.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” They’re only beautiful because you’re beautiful. “If there are any that you want physical copies of, you can send me an email with the file name and we can go over exactly what you’re looking for?” You paced about your kitchen, filled with too much nervous energy to stand still.
“Oh, yes. There are a few, I suppose. Actually… I wanted to know if there is any way we could do a second shoot?”
A second shoot? 
You felt your pulse skyrocket.
“A second shoot? I mean, yeah, of course - whatever you want. Do you have a day in mind already?”
Larissa hesitated a moment before speaking again. “Perhaps next Saturday, the same time as this week?”
“Sure, Larissa.” You trailed off, caught off-guard - you’d thought (at least you’d hoped) that Larissa had become more comfortable by the end of her shoot, but you hadn’t dared dream you’d ever see her again. “Is there something you were unhappy with or…?”
“I just really enjoyed myself and… I think this could be good for me.” You could practically hear the blush in her tone - it made your stomach flip.
“Oh. Yeah. I mean, that’s the goal with these photos, you know?” You paused for a moment, your next words slipping out before you could stop yourself. “Did your partner like them?”
“Oh, no it’s nothing like that… I don’t have a partner.”
You could feel your breath catch in your lungs as you processed her words, scrambling to come up with a suitable answer as you worried you’d made things awkward. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume. I mean I just thought- you know, you’re so beautiful, I assumed…” Way to make things even more awkward…
“It’s quite alright, my dear.” My dear. Swoon. Her voice was filled with warmth, bordering on teasing, and it made your stomach do a somersault.
“I’ll see you next week then? If you still want to, that is.”
“Yes. I would love to. Thank you.”
“Thank you,” you whispered, before hanging up the phone.
~~~
This time, when Larissa walked up to the front door of your cottage, she felt a little more confident. She knew what to expect now - and honestly, the first shoot hadn’t been as awkward or humiliating as she’d thought it would be. Really, the photos had turned out so well - they’d made her feel sexy, they’d made her feel young again. And you’d been very patient with her, always making sure to direct her into poses so that she never felt helpless - there was a reason your clients spoke so highly of you in online reviews, she supposed.
But there was something else. The way you’d looked at her during that first shoot, particularly when you thought she wasn’t watching, had stirred up feelings inside of Larissa that she hadn’t felt in years. She felt desirable. Under your gaze, she felt attractive - it felt natural to pose in lingerie when you were the one watching her. And it was insane, really - she didn’t even know you, and you were simply doing your job. But Larissa couldn’t help but feel like there was something more there.
You let Larissa into your cottage and, after offering her a drink, directed her to get changed and meet you in the studio. Larissa didn’t miss the way you blushed and squirmed when she stepped into the studio in a matching set - a mesh, sage green bra and panties. 
She still found herself a bit shy about her body - her stomach was on display a lot more this time around, and she crossed her arms subconsciously over her torso.
“That, uh, that color really suits you.”
It was Larissa’s turn to blush, and she smiled a shy, closed-lip smile. You directed her to the floor in front of the mirror, explaining that you would love to use the mirror for some shots. Larissa agreed and sat down, drawing her legs up to her chest to hide the stomach rolls that formed as she sat.
“None of that,” you teased, tapping her knee and instructing her to stretch out her legs. Larissa leaned back on her elbows, her body now on almost full display for you. Your eyes roamed her bare skin - just briefly - and you bit your lip. “You have a gorgeous figure, Larissa. Really, most women would kill to look like you.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that…” Larissa felt her stomach flip at your compliment. You gave her a look that she couldn’t quite place, your eyes briefly flicking over her body. Part of her did feel self-conscious but another part, a part that was quickly taking over, felt alive under your gaze. She felt her body come to life as she posed for you, and she almost found herself forgetting there was even a camera present - she often looked past the lens, directly at you, admiring you in your element, basking in the soft smiles you would shoot at her when you caught her looking.
“Um, Larissa?” you asked suddenly, lowering your camera slightly and cocking your head to the side.
“Hmm?”
“Could we try… maybe we could try taking your hair down for a few photos?” You bit your lip and watched intently for Larissa’s reaction - her eyes widened at your suggestion and you immediately started to backtrack. “I mean, it looks like it was a bitch to put up so I totally get it if you’d rather not! And I mean it looks amazing, you look really beautiful, so it’s nice as is!”
Larissa did have to admit your suggestion caught her off-guard - her updo had become an integral part of her uniform, another part of her mask. She’d figured out long ago that it suited her, gave her an untouchable air of sophistication, and it became a staple for her - there were few people in her life today who’d seen her with her hair down, and so wearing her hair down had begun to feel very intimate.
But something about you, about the entire situation, felt different. She felt safe here in this little studio space. So, after a moment’s hesitation, she smiled and nodded. “I can take it down. It’ll take a few minutes though, there are quite a few pins.”
“I could help - I mean, only if you want me to, of course, sorry.”
Larissa couldn’t help but grin at your chaotic nature. “I would appreciate your help.”
You set your camera on the floor and scooted closer, settling on your knees behind Larissa and running your fingers over the intricate curls. “Wow,” you breathed, before gently beginning to pry pins out of her hair - Larissa felt her cheeks go pink, unused to so much praise.
Your fingers danced over her curls, setting them free one by one. The pressure from the pins was slowly being released, and she couldn’t help but let out a soft moan of pleasure. She felt embarrassed by the noise, but it seemed to embolden you - you began to gently massage her scalp.
“Is this okay?” you whispered.
“Mmh… yes, it is.” Larissa let out another hum of pleasure and leaned into your touch.
“Why do you wear it up like that if it’s so tight?” Your voice was curious as the pads of your fingers reached the muscles at the nape of her neck.
“I just do.” Larissa shrugged, another soft moan escaping her lips - this time, she didn’t try to hold it back. “I found it suits me. And I enjoy the process, I like having my routine and my structure.”
You carded your fingers through loose, platinum curls, draping the long locks over Larissa’s shoulders and moving around to face her. Your eyes were wide as they roamed over Larissa’s face, over long lengths of hair - your cheeks turning red in real time.
“Uh, looks good. The light is kind of coming in from the side, if I go over there and you kind of pose in front of the mirror, I think that would look cool. Maybe we could do some standing shots?”
Larissa grinned, very aware of how you were trying to cover up your own embarrassment at the sudden intimacy. How endearing, she thought. 
After the shoot, when she was sitting in her car, Larissa realized just how good that intimacy had felt. She craved it, and most importantly, she craved it with you. What she didn’t know was that you were sitting on your couch, your stomach flipping as you reviewed the photos you’d taken - completely smitten by her and wondering when you’d get to see her again.
~~~
You did that dance for months - every so often, Larissa would book a shoot, seeming to become more and more comfortable each time. Her lingerie became more revealing, her posing more confident - she often wore her hair down, once she even decided to forgo makeup. Both of you flirted - just a little - dancing around each other, perfectly in sync but never daring to go for more. Every so often your hand would linger just a little longer than it should when you’d direct Larissa into a pose, every so often Larissa’s gaze would travel over your own body as you snapped photo after photo.
Today’s shoot was no different. Larissa wore a white teddy, nearly see-through, with lace around the cups and a deep plunge. Her hair hung in loose waves down her back, one side pinned back from her face. It had stolen the breath from your lungs when she’d entered the room and you’d busied yourself with your equipment as you tried to compose yourself.
Larissa sat down on the bed, legs crossed demurely as she waited for you, hands clasped in her lap. Little did you know that today’s shoot would be very different to the rest - Larissa would make sure of that.
“Do you want to start on the bed today then?” you asked, glancing over at Larissa as you fiddled with some settings on your camera.
“Yes, I think so,” Larissa purred, her voice sending a shiver down your spine.
“Whenever you’re ready.” You tried for a casual smile, hating the way your voice broke slightly - it was getting harder and harder to keep your composure around the woman.
Larissa shifted slightly on the bed and you stepped forward to get a closer angle. The blonde looked straight into the camera, eyes seductive and heavy-lidded, and uncrossed her legs - you snapped a few photos. Then, at an almost glacial pace, she spread her legs, a smirk playing upon her lips.
You were so focussed on her full, red lips that it took you a moment before you glanced down between her legs - the sight had your mouth going dry. Larissa’s lingerie was crotchless - there, between soft, milky thighs, was her pussy, bare and glistening with arousal.
Larissa rested her hands on her thighs, gently squeezing the soft flesh there, before trailing her palms slowly inward and upward, subtly spreading her legs even farther, spreading herself open in the process.
You watched, mesmerized. As if pulled by an invisible force, you found yourself setting down your camera and crawling up the bed towards Larissa, until you were nestled between her thighs. You could feel heat radiating off her in waves - it made desire pool in your core, like a tightening coil. Leaning in, you stopped until your face was inches away from hers, until you could feel her breath fan across your face. Your eyes were glued to her lips - red and plush - as you closed the gap, your eyelids fluttering shut as your lips connected with her own - soft and warm.
A soft sigh escaped your throat when Larissa began to kiss you back, moving her mouth against your own. Her hands landed on the curve of your hips, causing your heart to flutter madly. You pressed forward, your hand resting on Larissa’s shoulder as you guided her backwards - Larissa followed your lead until she was lying on her back and you were hovering over her, your knee inches away from her warm core. “I’m very attracted to you, Larissa,” you mumbled against her lips.
“Do you do this with all the women you take pictures of?” Larissa’s voice was deep and sultry, her eyes half-lidded, but you could tell from the way her fingers twitched against your hips, the absence of her breath against your face, that your answer mattered to her.
“It never even crossed my mind until I met you…” It was true. You’d never desired another person this much before, and you’d certainly never dreamed of pursuing a client. Except Larissa. Larissa, who was staring up at you with wide eyes and rosy cheeks. Larissa, who in that moment wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you down, her lips meeting yours in a hungry, passionate kiss that stole the breath from your lungs.
It was as if Larissa was trying to devour you, her lips moving against yours in desperation. She deepened the kiss, her tongue swirling around yours as her hands found purchase in your hair, nails gently scratching your scalp.
You let out a deep groan as Larissa arched her back off the bed, pushing her body up into your own and letting out a soft whine.
“Fuck, Larissa.”
“Please.”
That one syllable was so needy, so filled with desire that your thighs clenched together of their own accord, the heat between your bodies becoming absolutely unbearable. Your hand traveled lower and lower, caressing Larissa’s waist, her hips, her thigh, your fingertips memorizing the softness of her skin - every dip and curve of her body. Your hand reached her inner thigh and Larissa let out a gasp, her legs twitching. 
“Can I?” you breathed, pausing in your ministrations. You were met with a breathy ‘yes’ and an enthusiastic nod of Larissa’s head - then with a whimper as your fingers brushed against her wet folds.
Larissa tightened her grip on your hips, squirming slightly beneath you as your fingers explored her cunt, trailing up her slit to gather the juices there and smearing them over her clit. 
“Mmh, right there, keep going.” Larissa’s voice was becoming breathier as she began to roll her hips. It was so incredibly hot, how you could see the muscles in her thighs and stomach tighten as she ground her pelvis into your fingers. 
Larissa arched her back off the bed, tilting her head back as she let out a low groan when your fingers began to tease her entrance. “P-please,” she whimpered.
You happily obliged, letting out a moan of your own when you slipped a digit inside of her hole and felt her walls clench needily around it, drawing you in. 
“You feel so good.” You leaned down to press your lips to Larissa’s - the kiss was hungry and desperate and hot, the blonde’s breathing labored. Her hands slipped under your shirt and clawed at your back, leaving angry red scratches in their wake - the pain felt delicious and you dragged Larissa’s bottom lip between your teeth in response. 
Your finger pumped in and out of Larissa at a steady pace and you soon added a second finger. The pads of your fingers found her sweet spot while your thumb began to flick gently across her clit, drawing a whine from her throat.
You drew back slightly from the kiss to catch a glimpse of Larissa’s face - she took your breath away. Her face and chest were flushed, her eyes were heavy-lidded, mascara-coated lashes fluttering slightly, lips parted as her jaw went slack. When she noticed you watching her, the corners of her lips quirked up slightly into a seductive smile, and she squeezed your waist.
“You’re gorgeous,” you breathed.
“Then kiss me.”
You didn’t need to be told twice - you descended upon her again, pouring all of your passion and desire into the kiss as your fingers curled inside of her and your thumb massaged her sensitive clit. You swallowed her moans as she got closer and closer to the edge, fucking her through her first orgasm - and keeping up your pace even as her thighs trembled and her nails dug into your skin.
A second orgasm quickly followed, then a third, then Larissa was gently pushing your hand away.
“I need a moment,” she admitted between deep, labored breaths, a soft smile on her face as her eyelids fluttered shut.
You happily scooted up the bed to join her, settling next to her and pressing a kiss to her temple as she nestled into your side. Propping yourself up on your elbow, you watched Larissa come down from her high, allowing yourself to freely admire her stunning features.
“Larissa?” you whispered, resting your hand on her hip and gently stroking the soft skin.
Larissa hummed in response, burrowing her head deeper into the crook of your neck and placing a kiss to the side of your throat - it sent a shiver down your spine.
“I have a confession to make.” You bit your lip, your pulse hammering as Larissa leaned back slightly to fix you with a curious gaze, her eyes wide and blue and gleaming, kiss-swollen lips parted slightly. “I have wanted to do… this since our first shoot.” As if to emphasize your point you caressed the curve of Larissa’s hip as you watched for her reaction.
A contented smile spread across Larissa’s face and she leaned in for a kiss, her lips warm and comforting against your own. “I know,” she whispered with a smirk.
“You know? What do you mean you know?” You suddenly remembered that Larissa had mentioned during your intro call that she was the principal of Nevermore Academy and your eyes widened. “You can’t read minds, can you?”
Larissa chuckled at your perplexed expression. “No, I can’t read minds. But I’m afraid you’re not very good at hiding your attraction.” Her tone was teasing and light, and you could feel your cheeks turn scarlet.
“God, I’m so sorry if I creeped you out,” you mumbled, burying your face in the pillow.
“I found it quite endearing actually.” Larissa’s voice was inches away from your ear, her breath washing over the side of your face before she placed a kiss to your cheek. “In case you failed to notice, I’m attracted to you as well.”
Larissa’s fingers found your chin and she tilted your head to face her. Her eyes swam with warmth as she inched towards you until her lips captured yours in a languid kiss.
“Larissa?”
“Yes, darling?”
Darling. Your breath caught in your throat.
“Would it be… I mean would you be interested in… Would you like to-”
The blonde watched you struggle, her shoulders beginning to shake with laughter before she (mercifully) cut you off. 
“Are you trying to ask me on a date?” She grinned at the blush on your cheeks as you nodded your head. “Yes. I would be interested in going out with you, darling.”
You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you leaned in to kiss Larissa again, your head clouded with euphoria and your heart pounding. Her hands came to grip your waist and she flipped you onto your back, hovering over you as her lips began to mark every inch of you she could reach, her hands slowly unbuttoning your shirt.
It was something you’d been picturing over and over again since you’d first laid eyes on Larissa - but reality was definitely proving to be better than even your wildest fantasies.
x
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buddierecs · 27 days
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omegaverse buddie fics
all explicit rating - 18+ only!!!! make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)
think i could get used to this by: likeshipsonthesea "buck goes into heat, eddie volunteers to help without any idea of what he's getting himself into, and these dumbasses get their shit together and also a fuckload of orgasms" word count: 6.3k important tags: plot what plot, alpha!buck, omega!eddie, mating cycles, getting together, love confessions, pining multiple orgasms, rimming, blowjobs, knotting, praise kink i hunt for you with bloodied feet (across the hallowed ground) by: mediwitch3 “i’m fully capable of controlling myself, maddie,” buck says, “your lack of faith is astounding.” “listen, any other time, you would have my complete faith,” she tells him seriously, “but this thing with eddie is different, you’ve never had someone like that around during your ruts before.” buck gives her a flat look. “he won’t be there for my rut.” she rolls her eyes. “you know what I mean. your instincts are all crazy right now and your control is tenuous at best so just...” “just what, maddie?” buck passes a tired hand over his face again. “just be careful, that’s all I’m saying,” she sighs." word count: 10k important tags: werewolves au, didn't know they were dating, alpha!eddie, omega!buck, oblivious!buddie, blow jobs, anal sex, scenting, mating, knotting always, all ways by: ashavahishta "buck’s the only omega in the 118. he’s got secrets, and walls a mile high. eddie’s the alpha determined to knock them down." word count: 85k important tags: slow burn, friends to lovers, alpha!eddie, omega!buck, team as family, mutual pining, panic attacks, explicit sexual content, knotting, self-lubrication i choose you, pikachu (or the ways two idiots finally say you're mine) by: snarkymuch "buck gets hurt at a scene, sparking a reaction in eddie that is usually reserved for mates, which is especially odd since they aren’t nor have ever been dating, let alone bonded as a pair....." word count: 8.3k important tags: alpha!buck, alpha!eddie, idiots in love, getting together, possessive!eddie diaz, top!eddie diaz, mating bites, knotting standing in the way of control by: snailboat64 "buck hates alpha men. eddie isn't attracted to omegas. neither things matter because buck and eddie belong together, even if it takes a near death experience to work it all out." word count: 13k important tags: alpha!eddie, omega!buck, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, knotting all these twisted feelings (all i want is you) by: prettyboybuckley "buck and eddie are pining after each other, but things are complicated - they are both alphas, after all. buck's rut changes things." word count: 12k important tags: alpha!buck, alpha!eddie, getting together, friends to lovers, scent kink, breeding kink, anal sex, knotting tastes goods (when i choose it for myself) by: bigfootsmom "buck and eddie have always done things non-traditionally. why would spending buck’s rut together be done any other way?" word count: 7.1k important tags: established relationship, intersex omegas, alpha!buck, omega!eddie, knotting dildo, dom/sub, praise kink, degradation kink you want to want me but you can't let it go by: livesincerely "eddie gets dosed with heat inducers while on shift. buck, of course, makes everything better. now, it’s just a matter of convincing him to stay." word count: 7k important tags: alpha!buck, omega!eddie, idiots in love, mutual pining, possessive behaviour, praise kink, topping from the bottom you should be mine by: ikharys "eddie never identified himself as the territorial or jealous type, mainly because he didn't have an alpha he could call his own, and he had no interest in having one either. the problem started because buck was seeing tommy." word count: 16k important tags: omega!eddie, alpha!buck, hurt/comfort, angst, jealous!eddie diaz, miscommunication, praise kink, knotting, rimming
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reddesires · 3 months
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Mated Meadow. [Blue Eyes x Human!Reader] SMUT
Blue eyes x Human!Reader
Reference: This Imagine
Rating: NSFW (18+ MDNI!!)
Fandom: Planet Of The Apes
A/N: My Baby Blue Eyes! This is my first smut fic for Blue Eyes, so hopefully, you enjoy it as much as I did ❤️
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You hand is linked with Blue Eyes as you trail behind him, anxiously watching the back of his head as he sneakily peeks past the hut your both hiding behind, he's looking for any other ape that could be on guard duty for the night, you looked around the borders of the colony praying that you wouldn't be caught up now when you were so close to getting away.
You and Blue Eyes have been sneaking off for quite a while now, the build-up of your attraction finally hitting its limit when you two found yourselves alone, the mutual feelings finally swimming to the surface.
Blue Eyes looks back at you with an almost boyish smile, the flickering of the scattered torches illuminating his azure eyes, the shadows of the flame dancing over his fur in a alluring call to you, the urge to lean forward to capture his lips in yours strong enough to compell you to do so, he chitters grabbing the back of your head kissing back with a gratified exhale.
You could just get lost in the feeling of him against you but he pulls back looking back into the communal area of the colony, confirming the two are indeed alone before he leads you in the opposite direction, narrowly avoiding the small scale cliffside that overlooked the expanse of the area.
You breathlessly laugh as he eagerly leads you away, the idea of the privacy that you can finally indulge in, no having to throw longing glances towards each other or lightly grazing against the other in a hungry attempt of having the close feeling tingling through your skin.
The atmosphere held a cold chill, the wind being blown in by the nearby waters, the trees gently swaying by the gusts. Despite it being dark out, the stars cast out enough light for you to make out your surroundings.
When Blue Eyes finally turns to you, the two of you are standing in a beautiful clearing, the plushness of the long grass beneath your feet and wild flowers encapturing almost every inch of the meadow, you could see the flickering of the lighting bugs fluttering around the area, their light capturing your wondrous attention to their significant beauty.
The movement of Blue Eyes' hands grab at your notice.
"I found this place..I wanted to bring you" you lightly giggle feeling the warmth arising from your cheeks, this very notion was very romantic and it only deepened your attraction to him, you lean into him crashing your lips into his, he only slightly tilts back in surprise before he eagerly responds to your kiss, his calloused hands grasping your waist taking on the burden of your body weight on his, entirely unphased by it, his focus on your lips on his.
When he pulls your waist into him, you instinctively wrap your legs around his narrow waist as he slowly lowers you into the soft grass below you, his right hand traveling the length of your stomach and between your breasts before grabbing your chin to look him in the eyes.
"I.. I want you to be.. my mate." His voice deeply resonates in your ears as he firmly grips your thighs in his hands."I belong to you.." he kisses along span on your neck, his teeth grazing down to your collarbones, his words cloud your mind, he's mesmerized your very being and your under the spell he's spoken into existence, your voice struggles to break through your breathless lungs.
"I love you, Blue Eyes." He only proves to completely rip you of the oxygen in your lungs as he perilously kisses you in response, his fingers dexterously removing you of your shorts, once it's removed his tongue traverses from your nape down to your navel, the scent of your arousal encasing him completely, his breathing ragged as he lightly feathers over your clit seeing the gleam of your pleasure coating your pussy.
He looks up at you, cerulean eyes overshadowed by the blackness of his pupil, an innate feeling overtaking him completely.
You jolt in surprise at the warmth of his tongue on your clit, your mouth falling open at the sensation, the moan ripping from your chest as your legs widen and your back arches in morbid pleasure. He emits a cavernous growl as you pull at the fur on top of his head, his middle and index fingers entering you abruptly in self-enticed pettiness, you yelp at the unexpected intrusion before biting down on your lip almost drawing blood from the force.
"Please Blue..I need you." Your whimper pulls him away from your pussy, your juices dripping down his chin as he heavily breathes in, his canines jutting out as he coyly grins at you at the implication behind your word.
He nips at your inner thigh before towering over you, the stars emitting their glow above him in such a perfectly picturesque manner that you are completely hypnotized by how beautiful he looks in this moment, he's utterly prefect.
"Beg."
And you do, you'll beg him high and low, until your voice is relinquished from you, until the moment he steals the very breath from your lungs you'll beg.
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ivymarquis · 1 year
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Blind Date
Me: “why the fuck is this fic taking so long to finish?”
The fic: *is the longest singular piece I’ve ever written for one chapter*
Pairing| John Price x F!Single Mom!Reader Rating| M Word Count| 8.4k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Drinking (everyone is clear headed), run ins with a shitty ex, mentions of abuse from prior relationship, these two are incredibly down bad for each other, oral (m! and f!receiving), protected piv, squirting
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There is a certain catharsis in lamenting your dating horror stories with men to a married lesbian who’s over a decade older than you. Kate is always willing to lend an ear, and you’re positive that she gets a kick out of your misadventures in the way so many married people did while listening to their single friends.
“I swear I’m this close to just giving up all together and embracing spinsterhood,” you grouse with a drink in your hand after the work day had concluded.
You like to think your standards aren’t unreasonable. Someone kind, with their head on straight. It felt like finding a man who respects you as a person is becoming too big an ask and you very simply would rather be alone than deal with the endless hoard of men who seem hell bent on destroying any confidence you have in yourself.
“What about the guy you went out with yesterday?” Kate inquires with her head tilted. Must be fun, listening to your ramblings with a devoted partner at home.
“Oh did I not tell you? He was engaged!”
Kate pulls a face like her drink soured on her, matching how you’d felt at the time.
“Even better- guess how I found out he’s engaged.”
“She showed up at the restaurant?” Kate hits the nail on the head on the first try.
“Bingo,” you raise your glass in a gesture of affirmation before finishing it off. “Somehow I ended up being the one getting yelled at in that situation. Un-friggin-believable.”
You don’t abuse your work privileges to creep on people you meet in your personal life, but public record could have spared you if he’d been married. Harder to find out about an engagement from a total stranger who was determined to not let you find out about it and didn’t have social media.
“There’s always the other side,” Kate teases.
“Women scare me too much, I get all nervous.” You could appreciate an attractive woman as much as the next gal but good God you just could not help yourself when it came to men. The subtle way their breathing would change before they made their move, that low timber growling in your ear. The sheer weight of one on top of you as he manhandled you into the bedding-
Dear Lord, you need to get laid. Maybe you’re fixating on it too much because you’ve had an over 2 year dry spell. That tends to happen after a baby though. Especially with a pain in the ass ex who thinks he can pick and choose when to be around (and becomes absolutely incensed each time you remind him he could be consistent or he could stay home).
Kate is thoughtful for a moment, clearly kicking around an idea she hasn’t fully committed to in one direction or another. You can see the moment she decides to proceed with the thought. “Depending on what exactly you’re looking for, I might know someone.”
And here you are on a Saturday night, nerves clawing at your belly like a rabid dog.
Most (well, all) of the men you’ve dated you met online. There’s almost additional butterflies beyond the first-meet jitters knowing that the date is set up by a mutual friend.
There’s more at stake, even if the stakes are relatively low pressure. If the guys you met online did something incredibly out of pocket you never had to see them again, and held no qualms divulging the events to friends. Your romantic life has been full of misadventures but has given you a handful of stories, and as strangers you never have to consider any possible fallout in telling those stories.
Your son is with your mother for the night, allowing you the opportunity to focus solely on yourself this evening. No concern about keeping an eye on him while getting ready, worrying about what possible trouble he’ll get into when your back is turned.
It is hard at times- striking that balance between wanting to be a good mom and also wanting to be acknowledged as a desirable woman who has needs. A lot of men are shitty about it. You’d grilled Kate for every detail of his reaction when being informed of your young son. You don’t need another ambush regarding your disinterest in making it work with your son’s father.
She’d soothed your nerves- he hadn’t batted an eye, was about as worried about your reaction to how often his job pulled him away as you were about him having a poor reaction to being a single mom. You both have responsibilities that have to be placed above a relationship, now go play nice and have fun.
You tell yourself you can have one drink while waiting at the bar of the restaurant you’d agreed to meet at.
White wine ends up being your pick- not quite so easy to suck down as a tasty cocktail full of liquor, but gives you something to occupy yourself with.
You’ve only had the drink a handful of minutes before hearing someone clear their throat slightly behind you, and then your name.
Kate has shown you a photo of what he looks like so you’re not caught off guard when you turn around.
He’s handsome. You expect that but it’s different seeing him opposed to just the photo. Kind eyes, a warm smile on his face as he takes you in.
At least you both seem pleased with the big reveal.
“I’ve got a table waiting for us if you’re ready, love.”
He holds out a hand to let you balance yourself as you dismount from the bar seating, allowing you to steady yourself in your heels.
His hand is warm on your waist as he guides you and you’re already smitten by the time the pair of you sit down.
You’re fifteen minutes into dinner when you decide that so long as he a) is willing and b) doesn’t say or do anything completely deranged, you are going to ride Captain John Price like a mechanical bull at a shitty dive bar at the end of the night.
Perhaps the bar is in hell but either way you have been utterly deprived the past few years and he is checking plenty of boxes for you.
“So you work with Kate?” Starting off on the easy footing- the common ground that leads you both here.
“I do. Not directly- I work more on the tech side. I’m an independent contractor, I basically built the entire system she runs off of.”
“Beauty and brains,” his praise warms you, an impressed expression on his face. “Would explain how we’ve never crossed paths if you were hiding in a backroom surrounded by monitors,” he teases.
“You’re actually not that far off the mark,” not that you hide persay, but keeping that contract keeps a roof over your head and food in your child’s mouth. That keeps you busy. The fewer people who know how to work your program, the harder you are to get rid of.
You may or may not have hidden a few kill switches. Job security you call it. Though it’s not exactly first date material to talk about how you’ve got a government agency in a mutual understanding- keep extending your contract, and the program continues to work.
Either way, you don’t have much contact with the soldiers. Maybe you have passed each other in the halls but probably not- you’re certain a face like that wouldn’t have escaped your notice, introduction via a mutual friend or no. But you decide to utilize that mutual friend to shift the conversation. He’s hedged around talking about his work- on his end, sees that as the thing that might be a deal breaker for you. Probably wants to delay that until you've at least gotten your entrees.
So you go from business to hobbies. And it’s probably not entirely fair, but you’re about to see what his sense of humor is.
“Kate mentioned you’re a big soccer fan?” You make sure your expression is wide and doe eyed as you ask the question.
His eyebrow twitches- caught, no doubt, between wanting to leave a good first impression and biting back it’s football over here, love.
You crack far quicker than you initially plan, the wide grin on your face as you let him off the hook he’s good naturedly trying not to bite.
“Beauty, brains, and a comedian, lucky me.”
“I’m sorry, I had to. In fact, it was in her terms for this,” you make a vague gesture with your hand.
“Trust Kate to wheel and deal just to get my blood pressure up,” he muses as he takes a sip from his drink.
The conversation rolls easily enough- an ebb and flow as one of you poses a question, the other answering before allowing the first to say their contribution to the subject and moving on.
He’s charming, attentive, and a good storyteller. The way he carries himself screams military without being overbearing. He’s relaxed back into his chair and something about the scene in front of you makes you want to climb into his lap like a domesticated house cat.
Being the field captain to a specialized task force it’s no shock that he’s in incredible shape and you find yourself slightly distracted on more than one occasion by his hands and forearms.
The food is wonderful though the company is better- you end up moving back to the bar for fresh drinks and to free up the table for the server.
You spend a good length of time just talking with him at the bar.
John’s attention is on you but it’s clear he’s proverbially chewing on something the further on you go.
“That is the look of someone with a question they’re not entirely positive they want an answer to,” you’ve got a habit of being a touch direct at times. Amazing how it streamlines a conversation though.
“Observant one, aren’t you?” He pauses, takes another sip of his drink. “It’s probably none of my business, but ah- is your son’s father in the picture at all?”
It was your turn to take a drink. This was always such a fun topic of conversation. Frankly the number of men who took your ex’s side when the whole custody arrangement gets brought up alarms you.
But he has a right to his son.
Fuck that.
Your child is not property and you do not give a singular shit about your ex’s feelings- especially if it comes at the expense of your son’s safety. But it saves you a substantial amount of time not wasting energy on someone who could not understand the reason for your decisions.
“The short answer to the question is no. I had already left him by the time I found out I was pregnant, and given I left because he’s a raging alcoholic- with the emphasis on the rage-,” what a nice, polite way to say he is an abusive asshole. Your gaze shifts down towards the bartop, missing the way John’s expression softens as he reads between the lines of what you say. They’re not pleasant memories, but you’re not a wounded bird anymore- you’ve tended to your clipped wings and grown new feathers. “I didn’t want him involved.”
“He ended up finding out from a mutual acquaintance, and while he claims he wants to be around, he hasn’t done much other than blow my phone up at midnight trying to throw his weight around every time he gets a new girlfriend. So I get to be the cold blooded harpy that he gets to cry about- which is fine by me. On paper he says he wants to be involved, but he’s made absolutely no effort to arrange plans or anything while sober. I haven’t seen him in over 2 years. I can’t trust him to be a safe parent, and since he’s not on any official records I get final say unless he wants to go to court over it.”
Your whole little house of cards hinges on the fact that your ex wants everyone to bend over backwards for him while doing nothing for anyone else. All it would take would be one subpoena for a paternity test and your hands would be tied. He is an incredibly functional alcoholic, so there isn’t a criminal record or anything you can do to prove he would be unfit. There’s no proof of the abuse he inflicted on you.
Which means, if push comes to shove, you would be forced to relinquish sole custody and hand your child over for unsupervised visitation.
But that requires effort on his part. And that effort is the only thing keeping your little house of cards afloat.
“Sorry that’s probably way more information than you wanted-“ good job. Everything was going great until you laid out your drama.
“No apology necessary; I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know.”
And there’s no lecture about how you should give your ex a chance, that the opportunity to raise his son could make him change for the better. No dissertation on how you owe it to your son to do whatever it took to make things work with his father (that had been a weird way to end a date, and the only reason you hadn’t gotten up sooner and left was because it was such a bizarre conversation you’d half convinced yourself the whole thing had to be a bad dream).
You’re not a wounded bird and on the one hand it’s a good thing to get everything laid out on the table, but on the other you don’t want to sit and mope about your personal troubles. You’re actually enjoying John Price’s company, and don’t want to think about your problems.
And yes you are enjoying the time for what it is but part of you can’t help but also keep an eye out for… any opportunities for a transition.
As hot under the collar as you are, John’s gaze makes warmth coil in your gut in a way that has nothing to do with the wine- he’s being a gentleman.
It’s sweet. He’s being polite and respectful and showing sexual discipline while making it clear he’s interested.
And for all your bemoaning of prior dates with other men who aren’t captains of specialized task forces about how they were too pushy and too presumptuous and a nice dinner paired with drinks doesn’t entitle them to you dropping your panties—
Yet here you sit, hours into a conversation when you’d decided 15 minutes in you want to jump his bones. And you have to be patient otherwise you’re a total hypocrite.
You’re not entirely subtle. The pair of you are perched on barstools again, much closer than the table allowed you to be with the two of you angled towards each other.
Your dress looks good on you. A jewel toned blue that compliments your skin beautifully, the hemline stopping above your knees and loose enough to bounce tantalizingly when you hit your stride walking.
It’s not exactly an olive branch, but it is an offering of sorts when you carefully take the leg closest to John and cross it over the other. The hemline of your skirt slips up your thigh, exposing more of your leg. It stops just shy of exposing the top of your stockings and the clip to your garter. It does show just a hint of the darker border to your stockings, the lace peeking ever so slightly before transitioning to the sheer material that covers the rest of your legs.
You’re incredibly pleased with yourself when his eyes flick down for a split second and linger before snapping back to your face. Got you. He tries to hide behind being caught with a sheepish clearing of his throat. It’s adorable, really.
Your cheeks are starting to get sore from all the smiling and laughing that’s occurred over the past few hours. But he’s pleasant company so it’s a discomfort you’re happy to deal with.
You look past him for a split second- nothing in particular catching your attention but just taking in the scenery of the restaurant behind you. Your eyes are back on him in a moment only for your brain to process what it saw after a delay.
There’s no fucking way-
Yes. Yes there is. Your ex is mingling in the background, and you don’t even realize the smile on your face has fallen to a flat line like all the previous giddiness is draining out of you and pooling on the floor below.
It would not take a captain of an antiterrorism task force to see your sharp shift in disposition, so John notices immediately.
“Everything alright, love?”
Maybe he won’t see you. Maybe, if there is a God and he is merciful, your ex won’t look in your direction, won’t see you, and you can continue your cheerful plan of trying to seduce your date.
And whether there is not a God or he is just not merciful- either option remains with you having the same shit result. He turns his head and makes direct eye contact. God damn it.
You look back to John. You’d hoped you could move past talking about your ex for the evening. “Remember how I said I haven’t seen my ex in over 2 years?”
There’s a twinge of relief on his face- the look of a man grateful to not be the cause of your displeasure.
“Let me guess- he’s right behind me?”
“Not quite “right behind”, but yes. Hopefully he’ll just-“ a short huff off agitation leaves you as you cut yourself off.
So much for hoping he’d simply mind his business and stay with his group. He’s making his way towards the pair of you at the bar, and you can tell he’s had a good number of drinks in his system just looking at him.
You’d become extremely proficient at gauging how drunk your ex is at a glance. A skill you developed while still with him and one that doesn’t seem to have faded.
This is, you know without question, going to end up being absolutely humiliating for you. You just know it.
“I am going to go ahead and apologize now for whatever is going to come out of his mouth,” you inform John.
His hand finds your knee, giving a light, reassuring squeeze. “It’ll be alright, love.”
“Well what do we have here?” is the warning shot letting you know he’s not going to show any form of civility.
“Hello, Michael,” you greet cooly, mind spinning a hundred miles an hour trying to figure out how to end this conversation as quickly as possible.
“You don’t have time to answer my texts but you’ve got time to go out. That’s good. Good to know you’ve got your priorities in order,” he starts.
“Answering your texts isn’t even remotely on my priority list, you know that.” You’re trying incredibly hard to keep yourself from being outright nasty but a whole lot of old wounds float up to the surface at the sight of your ex.
Maybe your new feathers aren’t as filled out as you’d initially thought. You feel raw and exposed and it’s difficult to think. You know what you should do, how you should handle it- and there’s still that one little part in your brain that is keeping tabs on John and his response to all of this.
“Your priority should be my son-“ he starts,
“-who is with his perfectly capable grandmother for the evening, thank you,” you finish for him, jaw set tightly. “Why are you here?”
The direct question is aggressive but you know the cycle with him too well to allow him to steer the conversation. He’ll run you in circle after circle until you’re so frazzled you can’t discern left from right.
“Can’t say hello and introduce myself to your new fella? Come on now, where’s your manners?”
Your eyes widen as Michael reaches a hand out- there is no way this asshole is about to grab you in public.
Quick as a snake, John runs interference and drapes his arm across the back of your chair, his fingers holding the shoulder furthest from him lightly.
The entire length of your back and shoulders are blocked by the SAS captain, forcing Michael’s hand back as there was no easy place for it to land that wouldn’t also be touching John.
Up until now, John has been quiet and assessing the situation. Not bowing up or trying to assert himself- letting you deal with your ex and navigate the situation for yourself.
The look on his face is downright unpleasant to put lightly. This is the man in charge of an elite task force, who barks orders at soldiers who drop everything at once because he told them to-
-and you don’t feel so exposed anymore. You find yourself sitting up a bit straighter only for John to gently stroke his knuckles against your shoulder in a soothing gesture. The gesture isn’t a miraculously grand one, but one that makes you realize you’re not alone in this situation even as disorienting as it is. And if you’re being honest with yourself, the upright posture and shifting of your thighs isn’t so much a stress response to your ex as you keying in on John’s response to the whole situation.
“John, Michael- Michael, John. There, now you’re introduced.” Go away now please.
Your ex is too drunk and too full of himself to see the writing on the wall, and continues to poke the bear. “Well, since she doesn’t seem to want to give a proper introduction-“ he sticks an arm out, and you can’t help but notice how the simple gesture causes him to need to correct his balance. Good lord it was barely dark out and he’s already-
Well. Not your problem. Not anymore, at any rate.
John is sitting to your left, his right arm the one that’s draped across the back of your chair. The pair of you flash a quick look to each other, John lifting his arm from your chair to take Michael’s hand and-
God.
Damn.
It.
The exchange is actually as hilarious as it is embarrassing (You can’t quite decide if it’s all the second hand cringe variety, or first hand because Look, John! Here’s the father of my child! I sure know how to pick a partner! Is still coiling in the depths of your stomach). You’d prefer if it simply never occurred at all.
You can see your ex’s forearm flexing as he shakes John’s hand. The microexpression that flicks across your date’s face confirms your suspicion- Michael is (for some reason) trying to use an overexaggerated grip to establish some sort of dominance in the situation.
The quick really? that reads on John’s face rapidly turns to a bemused and subtle if that’s how you want to play then, a barely noticeable shift in his own grip resulting in Michael wincing.
“Captain John Price,” his tone is easy, betraying none of the pissing contest your ex instigated and is failing miserably to get one over on John.
Your ex mumbles his full name, clearly realizing that whatever his brilliant little plan is a) isn’t so brilliant to begin with b) he might just be alert enough to acknowledge the fact that he clearly has no true plan. He came over with the intention of being an asshole and has been flying blind the entire time.
There’s one woman from the group your ex split off from who is watching the three of you keenly. If you were to guess, she is probably his new girlfriend.
You can’t help but wonder- does she know enough to know that this is routine behavior for him? That he throws himself headfirst into a situation he hasn’t planned out- isn’t sober enough to plan out? Situations that don’t need to occur just so he can throw his weight around? Too petty to give a genuine “Hello, how are you? It’s been a while. I want to talk to you about Sam when we’ve both got some free time?”
Everything is vindictive. Constantly worrying about not being undermined and being respected to the point he gets in his own way. Actively sabotages his own opportunities. In dire need of therapy to work through his issues because you know the alcohol is how he copes and you’d sympathized at first but the reasons became excuses and then he’d started blaming you and-
-John places his arm on the back of your chair again and you pull yourself out of your mental spiral.
“I think your date is waiting for you, Michael. Best not to keep the lady waiting.” John observes, his tone neutral despite being a clear dismissal.
“You’ll be hearing from me later. I want to see my son.” Michael’s ignoring John’s presence but taking the hint.
You don’t fling a final barb at him. The venom has been drained out of you and you just want the interaction over and done with. Let him have the last word. You just want him gone.
You merely cast a look over at the woman who is Michael’s date for the evening and hope she’s got better sense than you did- that she leaves before he sinks his claws in her too.
The weight that settled in your stomach upon first seeing him is finally lightening up on you. You know you’ll wake up tomorrow to a barrage of phone calls and text messages that you won’t answer. It’s probably not good you’re so desensitized to the idea that it barely registers as a problem. Merely one of life’s many inconveniences.
“You alright, love?” John’s voice helps you shake the last of the tendrils that cling to you.
“Yes. Sorry. Wasn’t expecting to run into him of all people tonight, is all.”
“Never fun being ambushed, is it?”
You take a bit of a risk- you know enough about his job but he’s steered the conversation away from it every time the topic would naturally shift that direction. You know how Kate’s work can go and you assume his is very similar. “Well you’d certainly know more about that than I would.”
It works. The two of you break out in grins, and you find yourself no longer worrying about Michael and your focus readily settling back on John where it belongs.
At some point- long after the single cube in John’s drink has melted, and the condensation of your wine glass has soaked the bev nap underneath it, and more importantly long enough that you don’t feel that you’re fleeing the restaurant- the suggestion is made to go back to John’s. “No more surprises, hm?”
You gladly follow him. You’d taken an Uber to get to the restaurant, anticipating drinking and hoping to go home with him, so you have no worries about your own car.
You can easily see him being the type to give you a quick, chaste kiss on the doorstep after safely dropping you at home. In another universe you’d appreciate the restraint, enjoy fleeting touches over the course of a few dates that get more intense each time before finally finding yourself in his bed.
In this universe however, you don’t have to wait. Don’t want to, either. You get to indulge your earlier impulse of crawling into his lap, knees spread wide on either side of his waist. Lowering your hips allows you to feel him and what exactly he’s packing between his own legs. Your hips cant in short motions and heat coils heavy in your gut.
From the feel of things he’s proportional and John is not a small man. There’s a brief flicker that runs through your mind that you might be in over your head with him. The pent up lust and desire stifles that flicker. You’re more than game to see what a night with him ends up being like.
His hands are warm against your skin- one cupping the back of your head and keeping you close as the pair of you make out, the other settles on your hip and keeps you steady as you grind down on him.
You are possessed with the desire to get his cock in your mouth.
It’s cute how his face follows yours as you pull away from him.
“Help me with my dress?” Your question is perfectly innocent as you turn your back to him, presenting the zipper that runs down the length of your back.
His pleased laugh warms you, a shiver of desire and anticipation running down your spine as his breath fans across the back of your neck.
You’ve got a surprise waiting for him underneath your dress, partially revealed as one of his hands holds the top of the dress steady while the other draws the zipper down.
You gave him the hint you were wearing stockings when you’d baited him back at the restaurant, letting the heavy fabric of the dress fall to a heap around you before kicking it off to one side.
Turning back to face him, John seems quite enraptured with his surprise.
The lingerie set is a matching shade as your jewel toned dress, the garter belt clipping to the sheer black thigh high stockings.
There’s always that split second hesitation when revealing yourself to someone- the anxiety of if they’ll be pleased with what’s presented to them.
John is the first person you’ve been with since you’ve had your child, and the slight anxiety quells quickly at the look on his face.
John looks like he wants to eat you alive. Any insecurity is knocked firmly aside by desire quickly ramping back up.
Placing one hand on his thigh to steady yourself as you lift a leg to take your shoe off, John is quick to stop you. “Leave them on for now, love.”
It’s a request but it’s not. Really that doesn’t surprise you- he is someone who is likely used to having his whims accommodated to. You find yourself having no urge to defy him, nodding in compliance. If John wants your heels to stay on, then they’ll stay.
He guides you between his legs, enough space between his knees for you to slot yourself in. With him sitting on the bed he’s shorter than you standing straight up in your heels. Bending down to give a quick, teasing kiss you let yourself drop to your own knees.
“You don’t have to-“
“I want to,” you assure him with doe eyes and are rewarded with him settling into the bed as your hands go to work on his belt.
Unable to resist teasing him, you mouth at his bulge through the thick fabric of his pants. You’re rewarded with a soft cant of his hips, having his belt undone and working on the button and zip of his pants in record time.
Your earlier suspicions are correct. John is a big boy in more ways than one. You want him in your mouth- now.
While you’re occupying yourself with getting his pants off, John shucks his shirt and shoes.
He is, simply put, delicious to look at. From the broad muscling to the thick dark hair running from his chest down his abdomen. He doesn’t have the hard chiseled abs of a man who lives in the gym but the sturdy build that comes from having useful, functional muscle that’s put to work.
And that’s incredibly hot. He’s girthy as hell in your hand as you give a few strokes before putting your mouth on him.
You’re not entirely certain if deep throating him is going to be an option, but by God you’re going to try.
“Bloody hell, love.” John grunts while you bob your head up and down the length of him. You’re gauging just how much of him you can get in your mouth- where your threshold is before your gag reflex wants to kick in.
He’s petting you. Doubtless trying to fight the urge to fist your hair, his hips struggling to stay still on the bed.
You want him to. You feel feral, all the pent up sexual energy you’ve been storing for God-knows-how-long welling up all at once. You want this man carnally and your brain presently thinks having your hair held in place and your throat fucked is a fantastic idea.
John clearly has other plans, restraining himself and letting you work at your own pace. That low, deep breathing paired with his soft grunts and voiced encouragements stoke the flames of your arousal hotter.
Eventually you do need air, pulling off of him for a moment. Your hand works his shaft and teases the tip of him as you lean forward to run your tongue up and down the length of him, dropping a bit lower to lave at his heavy sac. He jolts which only encourages you to do it again.
You know your eyes are one of your better features- you’ve heard the compliment enough times both in and out of the bedroom, holding John’s gaze as you lick him back up the length of his shaft and circle the head once before having caught your breath enough to wrap your lips around him once more.
The second time around you’re able to get a bit more of him down your throat, but not all the way. What you can’t reach you stroke with one hand, the other resting on his thigh to help balance yourself as you work. You can feel the tension building in his thigh as he gets closer, pleased with yourself.
It’s a heady feeling. You don’t know exactly all the dirty details of his job but understand enough to know you’ve got a powerful man at your whim right now and that scratches a deep seated itch in you.
“Good girl,” his praise washes over you, warm and welcoming. “Just like that-“
You’re intent on sucking the soul out of him, all doe eyes and hollowed cheeks with those painted red lips. Eventually he gives into the urge to grab a fistful of your hair. He doesn’t do anything to interrupt the rhythm you’ve settled into, letting you move as you see fit.
He bites out your name and you feel the muscles in his leg drawn tight. “I’m getting close, love.”
It’s not quite a question. You give your not-answer by doubling down on him. You’re so close to having him in your mouth all the way to the base. You don’t want to back off. What you do want is for him to finish down your throat.
You get your wish. John’s fist tightens and you let out a grunt as his thrusting results in your nose pressed against his public bone.
The taste of him doesn’t really register as he spills inside your mouth, your focus on breathing through your nose and keeping your gag reflex down.
He’s petting your hair again, praises falling freely from him and soft apologizes. “Lost myself for a moment there, love. You alright?”
You keep your mouth hilted on him for a moment to prove a point- you’re fine, he didn’t push you past threshold- before finally releasing his softening cock.
He’s pulling you up to him after that, an open mouthed kiss that flusters you considering he just came in your mouth. “You’re just a treasure,” his voice purrs in your ear. “Only fair I return the favor, hm?”
He guides you to lay on the bed, knees hanging over the edge before he turns to settle between your legs.
He starts at your neck. You’re ticklish at one spot his lips, squirming in his hold with a giggle. “Sensitive, hm?”
You nod out a “mhm,” that breaks into a breathy moan as he works his way down your chest. Rather than removing your bra his hands work to pull your breasts free from the cups before paying particular attention to your nipples.
His hands are warm as they roam your ribcage, the heat of his body seeping through the lace of your outfit as his fingers trail across your skin and the delicate material.
“You’re so soft, love,” you don’t quite know how to respond to the compliment, mewling wordlessly in pleasure at the attention.
That seems to appease him as he kisses his way down your sternum and to your belly, the expanse of most of it covered by the fabric of the garter belt.
His eyes flick up to your own as his lips travel closer to the apex of your thighs. Where you’ve been lying patient and pliant in his grasp, the eye contact draws something tight in your core and you squirm again.
The next thing you feel is teeth as he nips you. “Be a good girl for me,” he tells you, soothing the soft throb of his bite with his tongue.
You force yourself to still as he moves lower, lower, lower- taking his time and having you thoroughly worked up before moving to the next patch of skin.
When he’s down far enough he slides one of your thighs over his shoulder, that arm looping under your arm and banding across your abdomen.
It’s his turn now to mouth at your clothed sex.
He pulls the gusset of your thong aside after a moment of teasing, his lips descending on you.
“Oh,” your hand immediately finds purchase in his hair, a pleased whimper escaping you at the feel of John’s tongue.
John feasts on you. There’s not much else that can be done to describe it. It’s lewd and wet as he laps at you, the flesh of his tongue doing little to soothe the burning ache inside you and only ramping it up.
Those eyes are wicked as he gazes up at you from between your thighs. The hand resting on your lower stomach is pressing ever so lightly, like John wants the pressure there but not too much yet and you’re once again struck with the idea you might be in over your head with him.
“John, please,” you beg. It feels good but you need more, lust clouding your brain as your hips rock against his face.
“You need to be patient, love. I’ll take care of you. Just relax, hm?”
It dawns on you that he’s probably running down the clock until his refractory period is up. That he doesn’t want to get you going too quick and then be stuck not quite ready to perform.
It’s an assumption, and you’re not 100% sure that you’re correct, but it’s a solid enough option that you move forward with that in mind.
The thought almost makes it easier to relax into the bed- the idea that John is going to pleasure you with his mouth until enough time has passed and he can get it up again. That he’s not just mindlessly toying with you with no end goal in mind.
It feels good you’re just stuck being greedy and wanting more stimulation despite knowing that won’t happen until John decides he’s ready to give you more.
You almost jump when the fingers you’ve been waiting for make their presence known. His mouth moves to focus on your clit, lips making a seal and sucking on it. You cry out, hips canting as his fingers gently rub at your labia.
He starts with one, gently sliding it in and out of you. Your back arches in satisfaction of having something to clench on and rub against. It’s more satisfying than just one of your own- that was for sure.
“That’s it love,” John praises you while easing a second one into you.
The second finger is what you were looking for, stimulation wise. John pets and strokes you, thumb gently working over your clit in soft circles before putting his mouth back on you.
He doesn’t just find your g-spot. John’s fingers are placed so they hone in on that spongy bit of tissue tucked inside you. He doesn’t let up on it, tongue working on your clit as you arch your back helplessly and moan.
That pressure is back on your abdomen, the hand not currently stroking you to nirvana pressing down on your belly.
You moan and buck against his hold. Your orgasm is creeping up on you and it’s like he’s determined to make you squirt.
“You keep that up and I’m gonna make a mess,” you warn him- not entirely certain how he’ll respond to the prospect of you squirting on his face.
John looks delighted and you realize that yes, you are in over your head with him.
There’s a mischievous glint in his eye as he pulls back from you, “You promise, love? Don’t tease me.”
Oh dear God- Next thing you know he’s reaching over you to pull a pillow from the top of the bed, wedging it underneath your hips before returning to his place between your thighs.
You’re flustered at how eager he is to see you squirt. His mouth is back on you, sucking on your clit and making your legs shake as two fingers go right back to abusing your g-spot, his free hand pressing on your belly increasing the pressure that is mounting by the second.
There’s nothing else for you to do but grab a fistful of his hair and hang on. “Please- oh! J-John! Right there,” at your encouragement he locks in on the spot that’s got you arching your back and your thighs trembling.
“That’s it, pretty girl. Show me,” he’s moaning encourments against your skin and you feel like a bow drawn tight and ready to snap. You’re so, so close.
The sounds he draws out of you- both from your mouth and between your legs- are filthy and vulgar and you don’t care at all as he gets you teetering just on the edge.
You’re practically gasping for breath, eyes screwing shut as the hand not buried in John’s hair fists the sheets next to you. You babble his name, chants of John all your brain can muster.
All that pressure coiling in you snaps and gushes out, literally and metaphorically.
“Good girl, making such a mess for me,” John’s praise has you flushing hot while his fingers work you like he’s making sure he can wring out every single last drop.
He stops when you have nothing left to give him, a trembling mess shivering in his hold.
Your brain at some point made the windows shut down noise, needing a moment to settle as you process what John just did to you.
This is the hardest you’ve cum in ages, certainly better than the orgasms you’ve given yourself during your little dry spell.
You return to the land of the living with his lips on yours, tasting yourself as he soothingly strokes your side. “You back with me?” He asks, eliciting a nod from you.
“Please tell me you have a condom,” your tone is pleading. You still want to ride him but you’ve learned your lesson about practicing safe sex. Once was, in fact, all it took for things to go off the rail.
“I do,” he stands, moving to the nightstand and opening a drawer.
Now that your legs feel somewhat compliant you sit yourself back up.
No sooner than John’s got the condom on then you’re guiding him back down, having him lay on the edge of the bed.
It takes a bit of maneuvering, getting yourself situated so your heels don’t catch on his sheets, but you’re straddling him with the leg closest to the edge of the bed hanging over the side as the opposite leg folds underneath you. You hover over him while getting everything lined up. The position of your legs allows you to alternate which one is supporting the brunt of your weight, a factor that is going to be fairly important once you’ve hilted yourself on John.
Even with how pliant your body is it takes a moment for the head of him to breach you.
“Oh,” you let out a breath as you sink down on him. You’re not able to get all the way to the base of him on the first go, getting your weight underneath yourself and lifting almost completely off of him before dropping down again. You get a little further this time, a moan escaping you.
“That’s it, love. Nice and easy,” his voice coos in your ear, that low timber having you liable to melt.
He’s thick. Not in a way that’s insurmountable to manage, but you have absolutely no complaints with how he fills you and anticipate being pleasantly sore in the morning.
Two more slow bounces have you sinking low enough to hilt yourself on him, taking a moment to enjoy the sensation of sitting fully on his lap.
One of his hands braces on your hip, the other his thumb circles your clit. You squirm at the stimuli, relishing in the feel of him before getting to work.
This is what you’ve been drooling over all night. Your reward is very well earned in your opinion. Moaning lowly as you bounce up and down, your movements are initially slow and languid but pick up speed as you get your bearings. John’s heavy exhales and grunts when you clench only serve to wind you tighter.
“You feel good, pretty girl? Hm? You like bouncing on my cock?”
You flush- a ridiculous notion given how you’re quite literally hilted on his dick-, face hot from the dirty talk.
The hand on your hip helps guide you to a pace that’s pleasurable for the both of you, eyes rolling as he thrusts his hips in a way that makes you see stars. “Yes! John- yes! Oh it feels so good,” your voice a low purr as he delivers on every fantasy you’ve had this evening.
The stretch of him in you feels absolutely incredible, knocking the air out of you on each bounce. It doesn’t take long until that knot begins to form again, growing steadily as you rise and fall in his lap. The press of his finger circling your clit draws staggered moans, bracing on him for support.
“Been thinking about this all night,” John grits out. “Wanted to flip you over the bar top and have my way with you right there on the dining room floor.”
You moan at the confession, feeling less like a rabid dog with no impulse control now you know you’re not alone in the intense desire that had struck once you’d laid eyes on him.
“Probably wouldn’t have- ah! st-stopped you,” you tell him. The grip on your hip tightens at that, another moan escaping you as you bounce on him.
Your eyes roll in pleasure, cunt practically fluttering from the way he keeps getting you to clench. The thickness of his girth doesn’t just let him keep hitting that spot in you with lift of your hips so much as the mushroom tipped head of his cock drags across it.
“Aren’t you just a fucking treasure,” he praises.
Your thighs are burning, eased by the position of your legs and John’s grip helping you but becoming more present with each wet clap of your sex against his lap. It almost helps you tip closer to another climax.
Your eyes squeeze shut, a staggered breath escaping you.
“Eyes on me,” he tells you and you comply immediately.
“John, please I’m so close,” your thighs are shaking again, threatening your already precarious balance.
“You need more, pretty girl?”
You shake your head. “No-no. Just don’t stop. Please don’t stop!”
And bless him, he doesn’t do anything to fuck up your rhythm. The fingers circling your clit keep the same tempo and pressure perfectly, his free hand still helping guide you up and out of his lap before sitting you back down.
You know you’re about to come but are caught off guard by how sharp it is as you squirt for a second time.
The sight of you spurting across his abdomen nearly severs any control John has left. The next thing you know John’s abandoned your overstimulated clit in favor of rolling you onto your back, your heels clattering to the floor from the motion. Your legs go instinctively to clamp around his waist for security- only one of them does, the other stopped by wet fingers gripping your thigh by your knee as he spreads you open. His weight is held on the forearm bracing next to your head by the time you process the shift in position.
“You alright, pretty girl?”
You can’t quite get your words out but manage a nod. “Ye-yeah,” you eventually stagger out as he waits for a verbal confirmation.
With the comfort that you were fine, that gives John the assurance he needs to seek his own pleasure.
More than satisfied with your two climaxes, you lay limp and pliant in his grasp while he chases his own end.
The wet squelch of his cock splitting you open with each thrust was loud and obscene although you were too far gone in the blissed out pleasure to care. Your whole body feels delightfully tingly, your head swimming pleasantly.
You clench down on him a few times, more for his benefit than anything else. You’re spent but more than willing to help him across the finish line as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muttering praises that are punctured with short, sharp thrusts before he stiffens as his own climax hits.
The two of you have both broken into a light sheen of sweat by the end of things. After a moment to recuperate John stands with a “I’ll be right back.” (And you unabashedly enjoy the view of his ass while he retreats to the bathroom.)
True to his word he returns shortly, evidently having disposed of the condom with a towel in hand for you.
The pair of you get yourselves clean and sorted. Before you can decide how you want to ask, John seems to already know what the question is.
“You don’t need to leave, do you?”
Again it’s not entirely a question, but still gives you an out if you want to take it.
You don't want to take the out.
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