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makeyoumine69 · 7 months ago

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Euphoria (Memory Reboot x2)

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader

SUMMARY: After wrestling with the lingering thoughts of Bateman, you finally found yourself open to Paul Allen's offer — a life-changing opportunity. But despite your resolve, you couldn't shake the need for closure. Determined, you sought one last encounter with Patrick, intent on resolving the unsaid and the undone before the cityscape of New York faded into your past.

CONTAINS: Smut, angst, mutual pining, obsessive behavior, desperate & sensual foreplay, anal fingering, pegging, sex toys, face riding, penetrative sex, rimming (Patrick receiving), oral sex (69, blowjobs), edging, biting, spanking, cum shot, masturbating, praise kink, body worship, drug usage, pet names, dirty talk, needy Patrick, misogyny, swearing, gaslighting, manhandling, mind manipulation.

WORDS: 8.7k

SONG REC: VØJ, Narvent — Euphoria

A/N: Hello everyone, I'm sorry it took me quite long to write this, I hope you like it! If you find any mistakes regarding gn!reader, please let me know!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST].

The clock’s ticking was the only sound in the opulent meeting room of Pierce & Pierce office. Your heart seemed to beat to the rhyme of ticking, while you were nervously spinning the thin cigarette in your hands but never really trying to actually smoke; the glass ashtray in front of you would probably be left empty till the end of the day. It was even funny how drastically things changed after that…moment of privacy you shared with Bateman. Starting from that, you couldn’t really get him out of your head, even though it has already been several weeks of your pretending game of “nothing had happened” between you and Patrick. It was a matter of time, when your colleagues would start to notice your strange behavior whenever you and Bateman were in one room.

Squeezing the cigarette between your shaky fingers, you turned around in the leather chair to look at the New York skyline through the wide window. ‘That it is not an exit,’ echoed in your ears and you tried to shake the nervousness off from your tense shoulders, but the more you were being alone, the more surrounding space was weighing on you as if you were on the very bottom of the Pacific ocean.

The moment the door swung open and Timothy Bryce entered the meeting room, you were more in control of yourself. “Hey, Tim. Haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Sorry, (y/n). Had a business call with some delusional prick.” Bryce snarled and took a seat across from you.

“Delusional prick?”

"Yeah, you know...delusional," he chuckled and glanced at the cigarette in your hand, which was still more like an accessory. "The guy thought I gave a fuck about his life and his wife, who used to be a whore, by the way."

With a soft snicker, you made yourself more comfortable in your chair, throwing one leg over another. “Wanna smoke?”

“Yep,” he leaned over the table to take the cigarette, your fingers touched for a moment but none of you paid attention. “So, what happened? Why did you want to see me?”

Confused, you took a moment to think about your answer. You worried a lot about picking the right words, but now you were even more anxious. ‘I just need to tell him the truth and that’s all,’ you reassured yourself before turning to face Tim. “Well, the thing is - I’m quitting P & P.”

Tim’s face remained unchanged for a second, but then the man furrowed his brows, tilting his head and rubbing his ear as if he didn’t hear. “You're what? Quitting?”

"Right," you gave him a half-smile and continued. "Recently, I received a very... very good offer from one company in Chicago."

“Jesus Christ. Chicago? Really?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

Bryce lit the cigarette and leaned back in his chair. “Who the fuck even gave you this idea? And why so sudden? You have such a good job here, with a good salary and…” He paused and blew a few rings of smoke. “Do those bastards pay well?”

Laughing heartily, you crossed your arms over your chest and watched the smoke dividing the room in two with a white veil. “So many questions. Are you interested in leaving Pierce & Pierce too?” That was not a serious question, since you knew that Bryce was more than satisfied with his job. “If I say who recommended that place to me, will you keep it a secret?” Tim nodded even before you could say something else. “I was at one P&P party, that one you decided to skip a week ago. So, there I met Paul Allen and we talked a bit and he mentioned that he just came back from his business trip from Chicago…we had a long conversation, but as a result he proposed to me to think about the option to change my current job.”

All the time while you were speaking, Tim was glancing at you with wide open eyes, his prominent brows curling up and down whenever you mentioned Paul Allen’s name. It was always funny for you to watch Bateman & Co getting so frustrated and annoyed whenever Allen was around or whenever someone discussed his success with having the Fisher account. To say the least, his ability to get a reservation at Dorsia. ‘I’m not gonna tell any of them that Allen offered me dinner in Dorsia after that party.’

“So you were unsatisfied with your job all this time and didn’t say anything? That sucks, (y/n). Didn’t expect that to come, not gonna lie,” Bryce made a low sound which was very similar to growling, but at the same time it also sounded like a scoff. “But, if that really is what you want, then who am I to judge you? We have only one life to fulfill all our needs, right?”

Timothy’s statement was like a balm to your soul, that was exactly what you hoped he would tell you and when he did, you felt some kind of relief washing over you like a breeze of fresh air.

“Thank you, Tim,” you finally grinned and put your elbows on the table. “Glad you didn’t start to read me notations.”

“Are you gonna tell him?”

“Him?” You squinted and tilted your head; your intuition was screaming that something was so damn wrong.

“Bateman,” with a sly smile, Bryce put the cigarette out in a glass ashtray; his glance was eloquent but you never really managed to read it. “I bet he will be upset. Very upset.”

“Bryce ” you rolled your eyes. ‘Is he lying or…?’ That question remained unspoken. “Leave these cheesy jabs to yourself, okay?”

Tim only laughed at your weak attempt to threaten him and stood up from the table. “You know, I saw him with Jean in Arcadia last night…” Now this information could come in handy… “I think they had some kind of date or something, huh,” he chuckled again and fixed his tie, giving the picture on the opposite wall a scrutinizing glance. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but something is definitely happening. In my opinion, you should tell him about your…unexpecting leaving, you know.”

Before you could respond, Timothy Bryce looked at you one last time and left the meeting room. Now, you were left alone but not really alone as the weight of the newfound information lay on your shoulders like two massive dumbbells. ‘If everything is too obvious for Bryce, what other things might the others think about me and Bateman?’ That was a rhetorical question mostly, but still you couldn’t even get up from the chair, sensing the strange, chilling fear inside your chest—what if you were mistaken with accepting the offer of a new job?

Gritting your teeth, you snarled and almost kicked the table from beneath, your palms were clenching and unclenching, thankfully no one could see you like this. Swiftly but nervously, you finally stood up and headed out from the meeting room, striving to avoid any of your soon-to-be-ex colleagues on your way to Bateman’s office.

How many times have you rehearsed the words you were going to say while you were walking up there? Countless. But still, when you entered Patrick's office and saw his lovely secretary, everything inside you froze - words, emotions, even your breath.

“Hi, Jean,” you mumbled, with a half-smile on your slightly tensed face. “Looking good.”

“Uh, thank you,” the blonde woman replied and fixed the stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

As soon as you heard the echo of Patrick's voice through the office door, a lump formed in your throat and you had to cough several times because of the unpleasant dryness.

“Well,” you paused and glanced at the closed door with a nameplate ��Patrick Bateman’ on it. “You would help me a lot if you let me have a private conversation with your boss.”

“Patrick is,” her voice suddenly wavered, implying that something was wrong. “He’s busy right now.”

“Oh,” you stepped back involuntarily. “Okay, I can come later.”

“No,” Jean replied curtly. “I’m sorry, but today is not an option at all.”

‘Is that some kind of joke?’ You hummed to yourself, already regretting coming here in the first place. “All right then. Have a nice day, Jean.” Turning around you already stepped out from the office when you head her voice:

“(Y/n), wait. Oh, I hope I pronounced your name correctly.” She blushed once you came back inside. “I think I can tell him about your visit, when he will be less busy.”

That offer was not something you would expect. “Actually, that would be nice,” you clicked on your tongue, considering your next steps. “Tell him that I have a reservation at Dorsia at eight o’clock–”

“Today?” Her question cut off your bluffing. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

You just grinned politely in return. “Yep, today. Tell him…that I need to talk with him about business and stuff. And, that it would be probably the last chance for him to catch up with me.” Jean’s eyes widened for a moment, but you reassured her instantly. “No drama, just changing my job.”

“Uh, that was probably a tough decision?”

“Not really,” you winked at her and crossed your arms over the chest. “But don’t tell him about that, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” She tried to hide her confusion behind a warm smile but failed. “I’ll tell him that you will be waiting for him at Dorsia tonight and that this conversation is very important.”

“Uh-huh,” you hummed and for a moment just stood there, looking at the closed office door. “Thank you, darling. For everything.”

You made a special accent on the word ‘darling’, purposely embarrassing her and leaving no room for any questions and other stuff that would make a current situation even more fucked up.

After you left Bateman’s office you had to find Allen as only half of what you told Jean was actually bluffing—you knew that Paul had a reservation at Dorsia tonight, considering he was inviting you for dinner. Allen’s strange interest in you wasn’t your top priority at that moment but using it for your sake was something you couldn’t deny at such a situation. So when you finally found Paul in one of the meeting rooms, you persuaded him to give you that reservation, explaining that you wanted to show one of your colleagues Dorsia before you would leave New York and move to Chicago. And even though everyone would find out that that colleague was Patrick Bateman, you wouldn't’ care since you would be far away from here.

A few hours later, the melodious voice of Whitney Houston reverberated off the walls of the opulent living room in Bateman's apartment, the lyrics of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody," which Patrick knew perfectly, striking a chord in his chest every time the song came on.

But today everything was different.

Everything, except some random blonde bimbo who was on her knees between Bateman’s spread legs, sucking his thick cock but not actually giving him any pleasure. Frustrated, the man tugged on her hair without any compassion, bringing her closer, so her nose was almost brushing against his hairy pubis. But almost immediately, the woman began to whimper and claw at the perfect skin of his hips, and he didn't like it.

“What? Already tired?” Bateman sneered and fixated the blonde’s head in one place for a moment by her neck. “Or is that your first time? Then, I’m so fucking honored!"

As soon as the man let the blonde go, she pushed him away and sat back on her ass, breathing heavily. “Are you crazy?” the bimbo inquired and pressed a hand to her half-exposed breasts, her whole appearance looked messy. “I was about…t-to choke on your fucking dick!”

Sighing, Bateman rolled his eyes and just stretched out on the couch, lazily stroking his half-hard shaft. "So, this is your first time?" The woman hesitated to answer, which only made Patrick mock her even more. "Did you tell me that you have a boyfriend? And he works at P&P, right?"

Wiping her mouth with undisguised contempt, the blonde started to get up, but Patrick stepped on the hem of her dress and she almost fell. "Marcus! Stop it!"

"Uh, look at you," the man chuckled, watching her feeble attempts to get up. "Such a pathetic little bitch, pathetic and greedy," the man added, giggling. "Ready to give head to every vice president at Pierce & Pierce! Your boyfriend should be so proud of you."

The woman was on the verge of tears when Bateman finally allowed her to get up and collect her things. She had been in such a hurry that she had left her panties on the glass coffee table. All this gave Patrick much more pleasure than the blonde's inexperienced blowjob.

"Ask your boyfriend to teach you how to suck dicks," he blurted out as the woman rushed into the hallway, rifling through her purse looking for something. "Since he's probably a pro at that sort of thing."

But the girl was already gone. So the man could only laugh to himself, so proud of his cheeky jabs, if only he didn't feel like a schoolboy dreading his upcoming meeting with his teacher. With a heavy sigh, Bateman closed his eyes for a second, his cock was already soft, but his sac were still tense and full of his cum; he felt too unsatisfied with himself, which only made things worse.

What was it even for?

The man could just take some coke, lie down on his bed, close his eyes and think of you—that was enough for him to cum so hard that he had to go to the laundry almost every day because he ran out of sheets. But today was different, considering that Patrick was going to meet you, and not just anywhere, but in fucking Dorsia. It seemed that everyone in this town could get a res there, but not him.

Biting his lower lip, the man looked down at the throbbing cock in his hand - the mere thought of you was making him horny as hell. "Shit…" If only he could reboot his memory and get rid of that scene in the Tunnel. If only. Meanwhile, the Whitney Houston tape continued to play the song "Where Do Broken Hearts Go". Bateman doubted he would be able to masturbate, he was too nervous and stressed out, even imagining you while that bitch was giving him head didn't work. Although it usually did. "Dorsia, huh," the man giggled nervously and checked his Rolex - he still had plenty of time. As if spellbound, Patrick slid to the floor and kicked off his leather shoes, his red tie already loosened and his pants hiked down. Leaning against the couch, Bateman threw his head back and began to jack off, recalling the forbidden, sinful sensations of your hand sliding along his hot flesh. "Mmm-fuck," he moaned and shivered, his free hand already gripping the edge of the white couch, several beads of sweat running down his tense temples. What if today he finally found the courage to confess? Confess that all these days had been a fucking torture for him, that he was ready to crawl on the walls from how much he longed for you, not even physically, but mentally. Maybe, just maybe, your reassurance that everything was not over for him, that maybe he still had a chance to have some normalcy in this cruel world—could change everything?

"Fuck, f-fuck!" Patrick cursed, sensing that his impending orgasm was slipping away from him just by reflecting on the things that were happening between the two of you. Jerking off and thinking about your sexy voice, your hot body and your cheeky smile was one thing, it always turned him on better than anything else, but thinking about the complexity of your relationship… that was not a turn-on for him. Not at all. Cursing to himself, Patrick slicked back his auburn hair and quickly got up to stagger to the bathroom, where he nervously opened the cabinet behind the mirror and found a small white jar of pills. Xanax was his only stress reliever so far. Taking a deep, almost desperate breath, Bateman looked at his reflection, his bloodshot eyes full of tears that threatened to cascade down like a waterfall. "This is not an exit." Patrick told his reflection, but opened the jar anyway and took a handful of pills. Frustrated, unsatisfied, he didn't know how he was going to survive dinner with you, and Dorsia was the last thing on his mind. "Because I'm scared. I'm so fucking scared."

Luckily, the marble walls of his bathroom were the only witnesses to his downfall.

Dawn came to New York faster than you could imagine. All the way to Dorsia you were nervous, but still confident in the plan you had made earlier that day. Even though you had failed in your previous attempt to dot the T's at the Tunnel, today would be different, you were sure of it. ‘I don't even know why, though,’ you chuckled to yourself, and the taxi driver gave you a concerned glance, but you just shrugged it off, signaling him to concentrate on the road.

In the restaurant everything looked the same as when you were here with Paul Allen, but this time you were not the one who was invited, but the one who invited another person—named Patrick Bateman—and speaking of whom, was late and that made you quite anxious. ‘What if he just doesn’t come?’ This thought made you fidget in the chair, your hands fumbling with the napkin on your knees and after telling the waiter for the second time that you were expecting someone else to come, your fingers became cold as if they were frozen.

“Maybe I can bring you some drinks?” The waiter didn’t give up, spurring you to order at least something to drink.

Quickly running a hand across your strained face, you exhaled loudly and nodded. “Yeah, drinks,” you stummered when you looked past the waiter, noticing the familiar elegant silhouette coming close to your table. “Can you…bring…some water?”

Confused, the waiter glanced down at the full glass of water next to you. “Uh, more water?”

“(Y/n),” Bateman’s voice echoed across the space. “I hope I didn't make you wait for so long,” he chuckled and took a seat at the table. “Had some important business affairs.” The moment he noticed the confused waiter, Patrick gave him his most sassy smile and checked his Rolex for no reason, probably just to show them out. “Can you please bring me a glass of J&B and some fresh salad to your taste.”

‘A salad, really?’ You almost snickered, but instead your face turned into a neutral expression. "Business, huh?"

Bateman rested more comfortably in his chair after the waiter finally left. "You know, some affairs with blonde hair and long legs, big tits and an amazing ass."

That came out of nowhere.

Still calm, you watched the man across from you smile, surely proud of himself and so damn bossy it was almost absurd. "You mean someone in particular, don't you?"

“Oh, yeah,” Patrick put his both elbows on the table, clasping his hands, revealing his gold Rolex once again. “Her name is Stephany, if I’m not mistaken, she’s a girlfriend of one of our accountants,” the man paused before snickering. “That one who makes monthly reports, you know him. So, I’m a bit late because I couldn't leave such a lovely girl without a treat she deserved.”

Right now, you didn't care if it was true or not—his well-framed—confidence was something you found very interesting and even amusing, as it was proof that he was preparing for this dinner just like you were.

"And that's when I thought vice presidents actually worked at Pierce & Pierce." With a slight grin, you joked and finally took a sip of water, feeling your throat suddenly go dry, just like when you were talking to Jean earlier.

Bateman's sudden laugh rang out like shattered glass. "'C'mon, (y/n), don't pretend you don't know that-"

"I know that your father owns almost half of the company," you interrupted him abruptly, and he wasn't happy about it. "And that gives you certain privileges."

"Don't be envious. It doesn't suit you."

"Envious?" You set the glass of water aside. "I think it was me who invited you here so that you could finally visit Dorsia… at least once."

The air between the two of you was thick with venom and something even more poisonous. Nevertheless, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't think Bateman was acting like the jerk he undoubtedly was. But, to be honest, you expected him to act a little less smug.

"I still think this place is overrated," Patrick hissed through clenched teeth right as the waiter brought him his whiskey and salad with sliced vegetables and some cheese, which he didn't even touch, taking a big gulp of his drink. "So, uh, Jean told me you wanted to talk to me about something important. What is it?"

The waiter didn't even try to offer to check the menu again and retreated, but he would definitely come back later with the same request, since you hadn't ordered anything yet.

"Well, it doesn't seem to matter anymore," you suddenly declared, crumpling the paper napkin before dropping it on the finest tablecloth. "The thing is—I'm quitting P&P and moving to Chicago. That's it. Nothing special, really."

The moment of silence washed over them both like a tidal wave. Visibly shocked, Bateman just sat there, then nervously straightened his tie and looked around as if to call for help. 'Not so ballsy anymore, Patty?' There was something about the way he was humiliated, something that stirred a burning flame in your gut that came dangerously close to burning you alive from the inside. And again, you would be lying to yourself if you pretended you could control it.

"Chicago?" Patrick repeated as if he hadn't heard correctly.

"Why do both you and Bryce react as if Chicago were a desert island?"

"Heh," Bateman rubbed the bridge of his nose and leaned back in his chair. "So Bryce knows everything. Why am I not surprised?"

"I'd tell you more," that was the moment you'd been waiting for so long—the moment of his vulnerability, and you couldn't stop yourself like a shark who sensed blood in the water. "Paul Allen was the one who actually recommended this job to me."

Patrick's jaw clenched at the mention of Paul Allen. "Really?"

"Yes," you continued to corner him. "One day we were having dinner, here, in Dorsia," you grinned, catching every little change in Bateman's no longer confident face. "He said one of his buddies was starting a new company, and they were looking for specialists… like me."

"Well," he began, sliding his hand across the table's surface as if to calm down. "Good for you, (y/n). Congratulations!" That was the most fake 'congratulations' you ever heard, even though you were expecting a slightly different reaction. "But I don't understand. Why didn't you talk to me before? Before you made your decision."

This question almost made you choke. 'Did he really say that?' And just as you were about to answer, the waiter came across the table again, choosing the perfect moment. Before he could offer to check the menu, you raised your hand in an irritating gesture. "Bring me a vodka and orange juice," Patrick's eyebrows arched almost immediately. "Double vodka, please."

"Yes, s-sure." The waiter stuttered before taking the crumpled napkin and walking away, very stressed.

Without giving yourself time to think, you leaned against the table and muttered. "Why should I? We are not friends."

"Of course not," Bateman scowled, crossing his arms over his broad chest, the black pinstriped suit outlining his physique perfectly. "Not after you gave me a decent handjob in the Tunnel bathrooms."

Patrick caught you off guard by injecting this argument so blatantly into the conversation. "Decent? It was fucking amazing." You growled and quickly turned around to see if anyone was paying attention to your table, and when you were sure there was nothing to worry about, you faced Patrick again. "Too amazing, considering you seem to be thinking about it all the time."

"W-what? I… I didn't…"

Sneering, you tapped your fingers on the table in nervous anticipation of your drinks, even though you hadn't planned on drinking any alcohol, wanting to keep yourself as sober as possible for the dinner and everything that might or might not happen afterwards.

"Relax, Bateman," you rested your chin on your clasped hands, finally allowing yourself to examine his handsome appearance, including the way his cheeks were tinged with a red hue. "You've said too much already."

And from that moment on, you began to feel relaxed, even pleased with all the things Patrick revealed to you, accidentally or not, you would use every little detail to your own advantage when the time came.

A little later, when the waiter finally brought your cocktail, you finished it too quickly, so you asked for it to be repeated under the attentive hazel eyes of the man sitting on the other side of the table. The more drunk you got, the more topics you discussed, but when you mentioned Paul Allen again, you noticed that Patrick's good mood was fading.

"Wait a minute!" You held out a hand to stop him from jumping from one topic to another. "Can you tell me why the mere mention of Paul Allen triggers you so much? Is there something between you two?"

Bateman couldn't hold back a loud, hearty laugh. "That joke's too tasteless even for Bryce," he finished his whiskey, the salad still untouched on the table in front of him. "Allen…he's…not the person he tries to pretend to be."

"Oh?"

"I think he's part of that Yale thing."

You narrowed your eyes and leaned in closer. "Yale thing? What do you mean?"

Patrick quickly licked his lips, not expecting you to delve further into the subject. "Well, I think he's probably a closeted homosexual who likes to do a lot of coke and have orgies with male hookers."

At first you just giggled out loud, not caring that some people were looking at you, but then your face suddenly became serious. "How do you know about that? Did he tell you or…" you smiled playfully. "Did he do something… that made you think so," you bit your lower lip and drank the last drop of your cocktail with unabashed thirst. "That sounds strange…very strange."

"You're drunk, (y/n)," Bateman murmured, tilting his hand as if thinking about something. "Too drunk, which gives me the impression that you're as much of an amateur at drinking as you are at doing coke."

"Uh, s-shut up."

"See? Can't even speak words."

"Maybe...maybe I am drunk, now what? Are you gonna be a fucking gentleman like you always try to be and offer me a ride? Or maybe," you fixed your hair nonchalantly, your vision slightly blurred. "Would you be brave enough to show me your apartment?"

As soon as those words came out of your mouth, you knew there was no turning back, and your inner voice, which usually kept you from doing shit you would regret, seemed to fall asleep from the high level of alcohol in your system.

The man across from you straightened up at your bold suggestion, reading the subtext with ease. "Is that what you want? For me to take you to my place?"

His question hung in the air for a moment before you managed to come up with an answer, but you didn't know how to get out of this situation and turn it into a joke, as you usually did. Maybe you just didn't want to get out of it? Just like you didn't want to let him go when he helped you get up from the table after he'd paid for dinner and the two of you were in a cab. Not to mention when you almost fell down and the man caught you in his arms, but there was still a barrier between the two of you—an invisible wall—the only line that kept you apart. The line that was too dangerous to cross, but too tempting not to think about what lay behind it.

By the time the cab pulled up at the American Gardens Building, you were half asleep on Bateman's shoulder, his Lancome cologne not helping at all, making your mind even more cloudy. But you did your best to get out of the car without his help, letting the cool fresh air bring you some relief and clarity.

In the elevator, Patrick began to mumble about his musical preferences, but you didn't really pay attention because your brain was overworked trying to come up with a plan B in case things went too far. 'As if they hadn't gone too far already,' your inner voice suddenly tried to break through the thick layers of alcohol, affection and uncontrollable desire.

Bateman's apartment looked exactly as you had imagined—opulent, stylish, and very minimalist. Everything seemed to be in its place, including you, standing next to the tall window in his living room.

"Not a bad view," you admitted, taking off the jacket of your suit. "Not Central Park, but not bad at all."

"Central Park?" Patrick asked, hiding in the kitchen, which was perfectly connected to the living room, but you couldn't see him behind the wall as he examined the large number of different kitchen knives.

"Yeah, you know, Paul Allen's apartment faces Central Park, looks really fancy," you didn't mean to hurt Bateman's feelings, but the moment you turned around and saw him, it was obvious that your words had reached him. "But, I really prefer your place...it's more modern for my taste."

Puzzled, Patrick didn't hurry to join you in the living room, his thin fingers never ceasing to slide up and down the sharp blade in his hand, but at the very last moment, the man put the knife back in its place. With deliberate steps, he walked out of the kitchen and approached his stereo system.

"Really?" He asked in disbelief, as if his life depended on your answer.

Such a reaction from him was oddly appealing, the vulnerability, the desperation in his brown eyes. This was a level of satisfaction that no drug could ever match. Meanwhile, Bateman turned on the music, the charming voice of Phil Collins filling the room as "Invisible Touch" began to play.

The man was examining the tape in his hands when you slowly approached and gently cupped his face, inducing him to look at you. "Yes, I do," you confirmed your previous words, and when Patrick didn't flinch from your touch, you decided to go on, tracing your finger along his sensual lips, fighting the urge to kiss them here and now. "Speaking of preferences," you removed your hand only to place it on the lapel of his suit. "Would you be a good boy and give me a full tour of your apartment, including the bedroom?"

In any other situation, you would probably die from shame at saying something like that, but not now. Not with him, because no sooner had your question escaped your lips than you noticed that his hands were shaking, and the CD was about to fall out of them, so you had to gently grab it and pull it out of his hands. Bateman reminded you of a man struggling with addiction, every twitch of his plump lips, every furrow of his perfect eyebrows spoke volumes about the undeniable affection between the two of you, an affection you were both too exhausted to fight and hide.

Without further ado, you placed the CD on top of the stereo and pressed Patrick against the nearest wall, holding the lapels of his Valentino suit and sealing his hot mouth with yours, opening it wider with your tongue, so eager to taste him again after such a long wait.

"Mmhm," he purred into the kiss, his hands desperately wrapped around your waist, then going lower to cradle your hips, groping and squeezing a little too hard so that you had to bite his lip to make him stop, but the man just growled and pushed you closer, your groins rubbing against each other in the most lewd way possible. "Bedroom...go to the bedroom...and wait for me there."

Bateman's words right after the kiss sounded like nonsense, which you found oddly arousing. With a foxy smile, you licked his cheek, then his neck, almost biting the artery and sucking on the reading mark. "No, no, no, Bateman," you shook your head, grabbing his neck slightly to kiss him again, but he did it first. Even now Patrick was trying to take the lead, your tongues fighting for control like two snakes entwining around each other. "I'm in no mood for games or waiting."

The moment you said it, Bateman lifted you with practiced ease as if you weighed nothing, and you didn't even have a chance to protest as he began to move toward the closed room behind his white couch. In his arms, you finally felt complete, even if you let him take the lead for a while. Noticing the pair of panties on the glass coffee table, you wrapped your legs around him and buried your fingers in his silky hair, ruffling them and letting them fall on his forehead, making him look even hotter.

Jesus, you were on the verge of an explosion just from the foreplay alone.

Bateman's bedroom greeted you with stark white walls, the brightness of which was almost painful to look at as he turned on the light holding you with one arm, and the king-size bed on which he carefully placed you, but you didn't let him pull away, tugging at his tie and forcing him to lay on top of you.

"Fuck, look at you," Patrick grazed your earlobe before massaging your chest through your shirt and hovering over you. "So insatiable, aren't you? Running in circles like a trapped kitten."

Growling, you pulled him closer again to suck on his lower lip, letting your body rub against his so you could feel how hard he was, so painfully hard, considering the sound he made when you snaked your hand between his legs to cradle his bulge. "Are you gonna cum in your pants if I don't stop?"

With a determined persistence, you continued to massage his hard cock through the layers of his expensive clothes as you removed his jacket and then his suspenders, one by one. Bateman didn't interfere as he was also busy getting rid of your clothes without actually tearing them apart.

"Let me," you insisted as soon as you noticed him struggling to unbutton your shirt. "This is my favorite shirt, you know," you gasped, your own fingers trembling, making it difficult even for you to finally remove your shirt. "I don't want it to get torn."

When you finally got rid of the top part of your clothes, the sight of your exposed skin made Patrick grunt in hunger, and the next second the man was already sucking on your nipple, his muscular frame shaking on top of you from your teasing ministrations on his twitching dick and hard balls. Damn, you wanted to suck him dry as much as you wanted to ruin him until he forgot his own name.

"Don't like it anyway," Bateman muttered suddenly, holding your hands above your head. "You need to go to some... fashion shows... maybe you will have more free time in Chicago, considering Paul Allen offered you this job. I'm sure it would be some boring shit."

‘Good Lord, he mentioned him again…’ You rolled your eyes and turned away from his face, eliciting a low rumble from Patrick's massive chest. "What the fuck is wrong with Paul... are you... jealous of him or something?"

"Me?" he asked, confused and you took the opportunity to release your hands and roll over so that you were now on top of him. "I'm not the one bragging about having dinner with him in fucking Dorsia!"

Bateman sounded like a little boy who was upset that no one wanted to play with him, which made you giggle, but then you straddled him and opened his white shirt and removed his tie.

"The more you talk," you murmured as you ran your hands along the smooth skin of his torso, paying special attention to his toned pecs and abs. "The more you make me think you two had a history," you leaned down to teasingly lick his lips, your sneaky hands already working on the zipper of his pants. "But still, I don't care." In one swift motion, you pulled down his pants along with his boxers, watching his thick cock pop out, yearning for your attention. "Mhmm, the last time we were alone you worked me up really good, I wanna return the favor," your hands wrapped around the base of his beefy shaft, the small droplets of his pre-cum already covering its tip, forcing you to lick your lips in hunger. "If you have nothing else on your mind?"

Did you really care about his feelings since you asked him that question?

The man beneath you was definitely growing impatient, his hands gripping your hips as if he was about to imprint his fingerprints on your skin if you were not wearing your pants.

"Lie on your side," Bateman suggested suddenly. "Take off all your clothes and lie down here," he tapped the spot next to him and you stood up quickly, as if he had cast a spell on you. Never in your life did you get rid of your clothes faster than now. "Uh, what a cute ass you have, (y/n)."

You frowned at his words, giving him your dead stare as you slipped out of your underwear, giving him the full view—the glint in his hazel eyes was too much to ignore—so you turned around and presented yourself to him; Bateman couldn't help but lazily stroked himself, putting a hand under his head.

"Tell me, Bateman," you began, your hands slowly sliding down your bare skin. "Have you been thinking about me all this time?" You cupped your ass, bending over a little so he could see the spot right between your legs. "Or have you found a way to forget things you don't want to remember?"

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes for a second. "I wish there was a way to forget." Patrick murmured and watched as you lay on your side in the 69 position, then he did the same, his hot breath scorching the soft flesh between your thighs.

You wrapped your hands around his hips and eagerly took his drooling dick in your mouth, while he was lapping at your crotch. "Mm-fuck," you jerked against his face, your fingers digging deeper into his skin as Bateman feasted on you like the most delicious meal. "Me too, Bateman, m-me too."

Having said that, you swirled your tongue around the swollen tip of his veiny cock, causing a muffled moan to erupt from his mouth, its vibration sending shivers down the base of your spine, only spurring you on to go further, pushing his dick deeper into your mouth. Soon the room was filled with the soft, wet sounds of your shared oral pleasure, punctuated by soft but powerful moans and groans as you both teetered on the edge of ecstasy. Gripping your ass, Bateman responded to your actions with the same passion, devouring every drop of your flavor and giving you no chance to escape, his strong arms like ropes around your body. After giving his cock the attention it deserved, you decided to tease his heavy balls with light lapping on them, before slipping a finger inside his tight ass, you expected him to protest but instead you heard him moan and the next moment his hips began to move towards your penetrating movements.

"Good boy," you praised him, rolling your eyes at the way the man was sucking on your most sensitive spot. "Taking my finger so well..."

The coil in your lower abdomen was about to snap at any moment, but you still wanted more, you wanted to feel that cock inside you, even if it was going to rip you a apart. Breathlessly, you didn't even remember asking him about condoms, and how you managed to get out of bed and go to the closet, where you found a little box Bateman was talking about—its contents almost made you gasp in awe, so you decided to take it with you.

"Well, well," you crooned as you stepped back into the bedroom. "Should I ask you what this is or are you going to tell me?"

With a wide grin, you held out a large purple dildo, Patrick's eyes twitched and he gulped, leaning on his elbows. "I... I use it with hookers," the man confessed, licking his glistening lips covered with your juices. "Why?"

"Hmmm, you like watching women play with it?" You asked as you reached the bed. "How about actually using it and not just watching?"

Damn, you could swear you saw his breath catch in his throat, his muscles tense and his dick throbbing just at the mention of using that sex toy on him. 'So he likes that idea, what a naughty boy,' you chuckled to yourself and took your place on the bed next to him. "This is going to feel so good, baby," you brought the dildo to his lips, suggesting that he lick it for lubrication, and when he did, you could barely keep yourself from cumming, just from the sight of his tongue flicking around the tip of the silicone sex toy. "Get on your knees and let me take care of you."

"Fuck," Bateman cursed, but it was too late to turn back. Embarrassed but extremely aroused, the man got down on all fours and gave you full access to his firm ass, which you immediately fondled, spreading his buttocks and biting them one by one. "Mmh-hmm, (y/n)."

"Relax," you stroked his hips, kissing the lower part of his back just above the dimples that were too sexy to ignore. "God, you have such a beautiful body," you decided to praise him, knowing the effect it would have on him. "I would worship it forever if I could," which was only half true, or maybe...it was not. Leisurely, you showered his soft skin with little peaks here and there, dotting it with your marks of love, not even realizing that you were giving all of yourself to the process.

As you pressed the tip of the dildo against his puckered muscle ring, Patrick tensed at your touch, gripping the sheets and closing his eyes, so overwhelmed and confused at the same time, but your reassuring hand on his trembling one encouraged him to look back at you as you hovered over him to kiss his lips, his neck, his shoulder.

"(Y/n)," Bateman suddenly huffed through his clenched teeth. "I want you to..." he gasped as you flickered your wet finger around his tight asshole. "...fuck."

"You want me to feast on that delicious ass of yours?" You finished the sentence for him, grinning in pure gratification at his complete submission. "Is that what you want?"

"Yeah, y-yes," he grasped the sheets and positioned himself more comfortably on all fours— a clear sign that he was not used to this position and you couldn't miss it. "I want to feel your tongue... all over me."

"Shit, Bateman, you're a real sweet talker." With that you put the dildo on the bed next to you and before you knew it you were spreading his ass cheeks wide open to make a flat lick along his tight hole. "I wanna hear you," you gently but insistently probed his ass with your warm tongue, giving him several slaps on the buttocks that drove the man wild as you felt his velvet walls tighten around your tongue. "Good boy, c'mon, spread it out for me."

Blushing, Patrick used both hands to spread himself for your eager ministrations as you fucked him with your tongue while your hands traveled all around his hips before you wrapped one of them around his pulsating cock, fuck, he was so close, you could tell by the way his balls tensed when you gave them a slight squeeze.

"Don't cum until I let you," you commented and the next moment you were already pushing the sleek sex toy into his ass and this time he accepted it gradually, taking it in with ease—the sight made you gasp but you focused on giving him pleasure. "Tell me, Bateman, how does it feel?"

The question remained unanswered for a brief moment as you began to slid the dildo in and out, stimulating his prostate and causing him to shake and whimper in pure bliss, but when you decided to add fuel to the fire by jerking him off and sucking on his strained sac, Patrick could barely contain himself, his legs about to give way at any moment.

"F-fuck, a-aahhh, mmhhmm," he murmured into the pillow, his hands finding their way to your messy hair, gripping them almost to the point of pain. "I...c-can't...hold...it any longer," Bateman's wailing bounced off the walls of his luxurious bedroom, which had never seen anything like it before. "I..."

Though you wanted him to last longer, you were too overwhelmed yourself, feeling the string in your belly ready to burst. "Let it go," your words were like a balm to his ears as, just a moment later, his cock pulsed in your grasp, spraying loads of his thick cum across the Chinese sheets that Patrick had always been so fond of. "That's it…" You didn't stop fucking him with a dildo, nor did you stop pumping his throbbing dick, milking it until the last drop of his seed. "Good boy, you're such a good boy."

Panting, you pulled out the sex toy, covered in his slick, and brought it to his trembling lips, inducing him to suck it before taking it into your mouth, feeling the mixture of tastes on the tip of your tongue. Then, Bateman rolled onto his back, desperately gasping for air, his cock still hard. That was fucking phenomenal, but you didn't comment, thinking about your own orgasm at last. Locking your eyes with Patrick's hazel ones, you touched yourself the moment he beckoned you over, and without words, you mounted his flushed, sweaty face, riding it as desperately as you could, using his tongue and lips without shame. Tilting your head back, you grabbed his head and almost clawed at his scalp, feeling your insides about to fucking explode from the tension. So when you peaked, your scream could be heard all over Bateman's apartment. The orgasms you had before were nothing compared to this. It took everything from you, it made you die and rise again.

The final chord of the parade of shameless lust was when you let him fuck you in a way you didn't even expect. Spooning you from behind after he put the condom on, the man lifted your leg and sheathed himself inside of you till the hilt, making you feel so full you had to wrinkle the fabric underneath, but that was just the beginning as Bateman pulled you closer, trapping you in his arms like a cocoon, his tongue sliding around your ear shell with undisguised affection,

"Mmhmm, fuck, you're...so perfect," the man whispered into your ear, setting up the pace and resting his hand between your legs for extra stimulation. "Holy fuck! I'm cumming again, omh-shit..."

"Fuck m-me, yeah, just...l-like that...a-ahhh," you coaxed him to fuck you harder as you suddenly found yourself on the verge of climaxing again. "Gimme everything, baby, a-awww...goshhhhhhhh," you were the first to fall over the principle of pleasure, twitching along his body as if you were hit by the electric shock, all your nerves were on fire. "Bateman, mmhm-fuck-fuck! Your dick feels s-so good.."

Your vivid orgasm became the last straw for his second release as you felt him bite at your neck, his buffed frame shaking in spasms of pure rapture, you even had to hold back a scream from how painfully Patrick's hands squeezed your hips, but it was pleasurable pain of being ruined, of being fucked into a wet mess. Barely breathing, you didn't even remember how you passed out from exhaustion and for the first time in the last few days you fell asleep completely satisfied and happy.

When the first rays of sunlight crept through the blinds into Bateman's bedroom, you were already awake, as was he, but since you were lying with your back to his face, you didn't notice until the man kissed your shoulder, snuggled up against your neck, and made you roll over to face him.

As you did so, you dared to look directly into the brown eyes still clouded by the aftermath of your shared pleasure. "Hey." He muttered in a husky voice.

"Hey," you murmured back, hugging the pillow. "Did you sleep well?"

“Surprisingly—yes," the man stretched his arms, flexing his muscles and checking himself in the mirror on the other side of the room, which you hadn't even noticed. "(Y/n), I want you to go to the office and tell everyone that you're not going anywhere."

Shocked, you blinked several times, not knowing what to say as you hadn't expected anything like this.

With a nervous chuckle that turned into a hearty laugh, you rolled onto your back before sitting up on the bed. "Oh God, you're such a little Delulu, it's even funny," you looked at him—his face was nothing but a blank space without any visible emotions. "Did you really think that random sex would change my mind about changing jobs?" You chuckled again, louder this time. "I mean, the sex was really good, but... it's not like I'm going to give everything for this, you know?" With that, you got up from the bed and wrapped a blanket around yourself. "Can I take a shower?”

Trapped in the thought that only he could know, Patrick rolled onto his back, his eyes fixed on an invisible spot on the ceiling above him. "Yes," he murmured, barely audible. "Do whatever you want."

Walking towards the bathroom, you suddenly stopped and turned half around. "You better forget it," you said, savoring every word and finally returning the favor. "Maybe ask Paul Allen for advice," you grinned as you watched Bateman close his eyes in a feeble attempt to distance himself from everything that had happened. "Maybe he knows something about memory reboot machines that can help."

Without waiting for his answer, you continued on your way to the bathroom. Even though you were pleased with yourself, your revenge didn't taste sweet, but bitter, and its bitterness would remain on the tip of your tongue even after you washed yourself clean under the hot streams of water.

But the game was worth the candle, as they said.

Was it?

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines #patrick bateman x male reader #gn reader

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lalal-99 · 8 months ago

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Kitty’s New Best Friend {l.f.}

113 "Either I'm insane or you were just masturbating in our living room." 133 "You're being shy now? Really?" 141 "How many times have you jerked off to me?"

Felix x afab!reader | trope: friends to lovers, roommates | wordcount: 2.4k

Synopsis: When your roommate comes home unexpectedly, he finds you in a compromising position on the living room couch, moaning his name. Fortunetly, he's had a hunch about your feelings for a while, and he's willing to help you out.

Warnings: explicit content | dni if your under 18

Note: I wrote three different version of this over the past two years. This one was the best one, by a mile. Hope you enjoy. Please leave comments, if you want to encourage more content.

Again, thanks @jl-micasea-fics for letting me use your prompts. I know it's been two years, but still, credit where its due :)

Taglist: @skzho @bubblelixie @flakywig @itsallaboutkey @avyskai @mekuiikore @changbiddies0325 @knowleeknow @sensitiveandhungry @svintsandghosts @poutypoutybin @hyunjinswifeee @sunlitwilderness

Tumblr works on a reblog system. Please consider reblogging this post so that it can reach more people.

Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You!

He didn’t use to appear in your dirty dreams.

Only months ago, you didn’t need to put a face on the main character of your fantasies—the imagination itself enough to get you going.

That had certainly changed.

It could have been Felix sauntering your shared apartment without a shirt one too many times. It could have been the shoulder to cry on he had lent you after your ex. Hell, it could have even been as trivial as a kind smile for no apparent reason.

Your brain simply shut off and your kitty assumed control. Universally deciding that your roommate was a fitting image to get turned on to.

Now, his face made an appearance in every single one of your daydreams.

When Felix emerged from his room in nothing but a pair of loose hanging sweatpants, your mind went right back to it. It was ridiculous. You didn’t even listen to where he went off to, your fingers already running over his creamy skin in your mind. You felt like a teenager, arousal taking over you the second Felix left the apartment.

None of your other roommates were home which was fortunate. Sure, you could have gone to your bedroom to be safe. But how could you, when the heat reached you right there in the living room. Like it had happened in the shower a few days ago after Felix had sneaked in to get his lotion. You had told him you didn’t mind when in reality, you did. Just not in the way he might have thought.

That day and in your following fantasy, he hadn’t left, but instead joined you under the hot water.

Humming Felix’s name at the sound of your fingers running through your folds, you internally scolded yourself for thinking this way about him. A boy who was so innocently oblivious, he probably had no idea you even jerked off in the first place. Someone so sweet, he brought you candy when you were on your period, brewed you tea after a long day, or gave you massages when... Well, whenever you wanted one.

You were completely immersed in the scenario you had set up in your head, knot in your stomach tightening. So much so your brain took a second too long to recognise the familiar sound of his keys.

Things went very fast from there.

The door opened and Felix walked in to the sight of you. Rushing your hand out of your shorts, your neckline was red from the heat, your hair messier than when he had left. Mere minutes earlier.

“Felix? What the hell are you doing here?” you questioned, shock written on your features. “I thought you went out.”

“I��“ He scanned the situation and before you could stop him, he figured it out. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I went to get some snacks for the movie.”

Oh yes! The memory of your short conversation suddenly came back to you.

Felix had come out of his room, shirtless, recognising the movie playing on the TV in front of you. He had asked you to pause it, so you could watch it together once he came back from the store. Getting you snacks and a bottle of your favourite white, like the perfect roomie he was.

“Were you…” A smirk appeared on Felix’s face as his view wandered down your body to your pants. “Either I’m insane, or you were just masturbating in our living room.” Noticing your eyes shifting and your cheeks reddening in the light of the TV, he yelped. “Oh my God, you were masturbating, weren’t you?”

You struggled finding another excuse that could explain your hands down your pants. Not that it mattered, anyway. Nothing you said, no explanation you could have given, would get your roommate to believe he hadn’t just walked in on you.

Felix placed the grocery bag on the kitchen counter and strode over to the couch, sliding on next to you. The shit-eating grin on his face only heightened your embarrassment. Not so innocent after all, now that he held something over your head.

“Stop being so smug. It’s not like you don’t do it.” You scratched an invisible itch on your neck.

“But I don’t do it out here where everyone can walk in. Do you have no shame?” Felix was teasing you now, the previously cutesy behaviour shifting. You couldn’t quite pinpoint his demeanour, but it almost seemed seductive. Like, he was definitely flirting, and not in his usual, sweet way. If his next words were anything to go by, it felt even more so. “Or did you want me to walk in on you?”

You almost choked on your saliva. “What? No! Of course not.”

The redness on your face darkened further.

Why would he ever suggest that you had masturbated out in the living room on purpose? Unless… Maybe, subconsciously, you had done just that. Perhaps you wanted to make use of the possibility, him walking in on you. So he could finally help you scratch the itch himself. Not his imaginary self, but the real one, in all his glory. Could your brain have betrayed you like that, without you noticing?

You didn’t quite know what to think.

“It’s fine. I won’t tell anyone about this.” Somehow, that relieved you. Not like you had expected Felix to go around, gloating about it. It still relaxed you to hear it from the man himself. “I only have one question, then we can stop talking about it. Forever.”

Your jaw dropped at his words. So he was blackmailing you now, too? Felix, out of all people. Nice Felix, who never hurt a fly. Cute Felix, whose love language were hugs and cuddles. Smug Felix, who somehow had the upper hand right now.

Your kitty purred at his intrigue, surprising even yourself.

“How many times have you jerked off to me?”

You must have had a mini heart attack at that very second. Unfortunately, you didn’t land in heaven. If anything, this was hell.

“What?”

“You heard me,” Felix replied, bottom lip wandering between his teeth. “And I heard you, moaning my name before. So, how often do you think about me?”

“I don’t— I didn’t— I mean— What?” You were sweating now, unable to form simple sentences. And that was before his hand landed on your naked thigh, squeezing. That’s when you lost the ability to breathe, stomach tensing.

“You’re being shy now? Really?” As his fingers drew figure eights onto your skin, they wandered further up your leg until he reached the hem of your shorts. He played with the band, keeping his irises on you, and your kitty hissed. His proximity was a dangerous game. “What if I told you, I’ve been thinking about it, too?”

What. The. Fuck?

He leaned in, lips close enough to feel his breath on you, and you got dizzy. You didn’t remember drinking any alcohol, but you damn well felt like it. As though you had gotten intoxicated, high, and now you were left to deal with the aftermath.

“Been thinking about you so much. Taking you in your room. In the shower. On this very couch. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” His fingers entered your pants, playing with the hem of your underwear. Your breath hitched when his hand cupped you, smirk so close to your face you could hear it. Felix clicked his tongue when he felt your wetness. “I knew it. Not so shy now, are we?”

And you weren’t. Shy, that was. Overwhelmed, sure. Embarrassed, yes. But not shy. Not when you detected the tent in his own sweatpants. Felix wanted this, just like you. Felix was your roommate, best friend and now, potential lover. If anything, you felt most comfortable around him.

The feeling heightened when he gave you a gentle push, urging you to lay back. Felix’s face remained so close to yours, eyes glued to each other as he situated himself above you. His fingers started teasing as he leaned down, faintly pressing his lips to your pulse point. Your eyes stood wide open, searching the ceiling for possible answers to the one question you had.

How the fuck had this happened?

Felix kissed down your body, through the valley of your chest and over your tank top. Right down to your shorts. He must have been able to smell you, but you didn’t care. It was Felix, after all, the boy straight out of your dreams.

“Y/N,” his soft voice called you to catch your attention. When you met his gaze, the world stopped for a moment. The lust had momentarily vanished from his irises and what overtook was care and love. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

“Don’t.” Your answer couldn’t have come faster, and you meant it. Under no circumstances did you want him to stop. Ever.

With that, the primate inside him gained back control, ridding you of your pants and underwear. All the while, Felix’s stare remained on your face, smiling between kisses he planted on your naked stomach. As though he wanted to capture all your focus and wouldn’t let you divert your eyes for anything.

A last smile sent your way and he dove in.

Your mouth stood agape as you watched him, connect his mouth to your clit, lightly sucking. You spread your legs so he could slot between them, and slot, he did. Key fitting in a lock, he kept your knees apart with his body, the whole couch becoming your playground.

Felix nibbled on your clit like it was sweet candy, gazes locked as his tongue came into play. Prodding, exploring. He looked sinful, like a devilish angle as his blonde locks tickled your bare thighs. A fucking dream-come-true, in the most literal sense.

Licking down your folds, he tasted you, humming in delight. His own personal five course meal.

Early on, you had been taught to never eat with your hands. That it was rude and crude, and ill-mannered. When Felix did it, it was nothing if not delicious. To watch, to hear, his fingers spreading you and entering in soft, gentle strokes.

Soon enough, he was three fingers in, knuckles-deep, petting the sensitive spot so deep you never reached it yourself. And there he was, doing it with so much ease, over and over. Kitty’s new best friend.

For a moment, you lost control, throwing your head back with a loud moan. When Felix squeezed your thigh, gently but determined, you brought your head back.

“Eyes on me, Kitten.”

A whimper at the nickname made him smirk as he scissored you open. His tongue prodded against your opening in sync, delightful as your stomach tensed.

“Oh, fuck—” You brought your hand to his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. Guiding him, at least as much as he let you. “Please.”

Cocking his head, Felix teased you, playfully confused by your words.

“Please, I need you. Inside. Please.”

With one last calm suck on your nub, he snaked his way up your body. Fingers remained inside you for now, distracting you.

“But I already am. You have to be more specific, Kitten.”

You clenched at the words, and he visibly noticed.

“Your cock. I need you inside me. Please, Felix.” If those words hadn’t driven him crazy already, persuading him, your next ones sure did. “Kitten needs your cock.”

He groaned, fingers coming up to touch your lips. You opened them, licking over his moist rings and he lost himself in the sight. “Such crude words for such a cute Kitten.”

Smearing the last of your essence over your mouth, he began licking it off, taking his sweet time. And then finally, after he had already done much more intimate, he kissed you. Careful and collected turned to desperate and chaotic as tongues melted into one.

Kissing Felix was natural, like you had done it so many times before. And you would have continued doing it, if it hadn’t been for the more pressing issues.

When you bucked up into him, rubbing your naked crotch against his clothed one, he smirked into the kiss. “Eager Kitten.”

“Desperate,” you corrected, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him into you.

Felix drew away to rid himself of his shirt, kneeling on top of you. It must have been the hottest thing you had ever been lucky enough to witness. As he untied the knot in his sweats, your sight remained on his toned torso. Sculptured abs followed a set of muscular pecs and his prominent collar bones. You wanted to kiss every inch of his body, wanted to lick it and bite it, too. That was if he let you.

But not right now. Not when all you wanted was for him to devour you like his favourite desert.

Like the absolute menace he was, Felix tugged the hem of his sweats down, revealing the absence of underwear. And to think he walked around the apartment like that, unsucked. It was a real shame.

He stroked himself a couple of times, the other hand running through his messy locks. An undeniable God in human form.

You might have even been drooling, but before you could check, he hovered over you again. “Like what you see?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, curling upwards to connect your lips again.

With your legs still around his hips, it was easy for Felix to position himself. Your walls were clenching already, craving penetration. Some relief. Anything. It didn’t actually matter, as long as it was Felix doing it.

“You know,” he mumbled between kisses, tugging at your lip. It was in that moment, as he was so close, that you noticed the desire in his eyes. But it wasn’t just desire, but so much more. Adoration. Longing. Attraction. Love. “If you had told me about your secret from the start, we could have done this months ago.”

How he had come to know about your infatuation? You had no head to figure it out right that moment.

“However, we do have a lot to make up for. Better get to it, right?”

When Felix slid into you, your eyes rolled back into your head as your breath got caught in your lungs. Finally, after months of distanced yearning, he scratched the same itch that had plagued you for so long.

And your kitty was satisfied at last.

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altruistic-meme · 4 months ago

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skk fic rec time !!! 🖤🖤

okay i officially have more skk fics bookmarked on my ao3 than my sister has fics in general bookmarked on hers. so. it is time for another ficrec list by abram, bsd/skk version this time!!!

i have no idea yet how many fics will be on this list. i will go until i decide to stop. but as of right now i have 124 bsd fics bookmarked and i definitely won't be listing all of them so if anyone wants a pt. 2 then i certainly have the material to do that.

i'm not putting warnings with the fics, but bc this is BSD please do take note of tags and warnings that are given! i read a lot of fics with darker material so do be cautious!

One-Shots:

keep you alive, set you on fire by flyby @orbitalflyby (Explicit, 23k) Dazai steps out in a dress and heels for a mission, since the gown won't fit Yosano. He's only supposed to spend an hour or so leading their targets on a dance around a charity gala, but the unexpected arrival of a certain Port Mafia Executive threatens to disrupt all his plans. And when he and Chuuya find themselves finally face to face, they end up entwined in a tense game of mutual provocation...

Don't Pull Your Punches by kanekei (Teen and Up Audiences, 5k) Everyone thinks that their partnership is a series of Dazai being a troublemaker while Chuuya is helplessly dragged along for the ride. That couldn’t be farther from the truth. Some days it feels like Dazai is the only one aware of how insane Chuuya actually is. OR: 3 times Dazai cleans up after Chuuya + 1 time he doesn’t bother

The 5 Elements of an Apology by artemisiatea (Teen and Up Audiences, 6k) in which dazai learns that change is hard, but accountability is harder

Tea Over Rice by the_most_happy (Teen and Up Audiences, 8k) “Oi, Dazai— what would people say if they saw us?” Dazai gave him a puzzled look. “That we’re happy,” he answered. He made it sound simple; he made it sound pure. “They would say we’re happy.” They never stopped being Double Black — just different clothes and less blood on their hands. [Or: What if Dazai and Chuuya escaped the Port Mafia together?]

Lost All Judgement by todxrxki (Teen and Up Audiences, 12k) “Uh, sorry, but unfortunately I already have a date to the dance.” “Oh, really?” Tachihara says, sounding disappointed. He pauses for a second, clearly processing what Chuuya’s just told him, and then says, “Who is it?” Chuuya certainly hadn’t budgeted for this. Panicking, he tries to think of the people that he knows that are single, and before he knows it, the first name that comes to mind is slipping out of his mouth. “With Dazai.” / After a momentary lapse in judgment, high school student Chuuya ends up having to pretend to date his enemy Dazai to get Tachihara off of his back - and quickly finds it's nowhere as bad as he'd imagined.

oh darling it's alarming to think of us apart (you know you've got me in your pocket) by interludewings (Teen and Up Audiences, 20k) “Okay so if we’re both still single when we’re twenty two,” Dazai’s smile grew even wider. “Let’s marry each other.” By the time Chuuya’s twenty two, he’d probably be in a relationship with someone else, and the possibilities of them even remembering each other were slim to none. And so, Chuuya gave his answer. “Fine, let’s do that.” In short, fifteen year olds Dazai Osamu and Nakahara Chuuya made a stupid promise one day in their school library out of boredom, which leads to the next seven years of their life filled with fighting, burnt notebooks and late night conversations.

The Undercover Mission by OldSauk411 (Teen and Up Audiences, 16k) It all started when Atsushi was sent to drop off some papers that the Port Mafia had let them borrow. That was when he saw her, the woman with orange hair and blue eyes standing in the Port Mafia's hallways and talking. She was beautiful if he was being honest. However, after he left, he forgot about her- at least until a few months later, when the ADA and the Port Mafia teamed up for an undercover mission. One that was led by said 'woman'. Aka, Chuuya Nakahara. _____ Or: Atsushi sees a woman from a distance and thinks she's beautiful, up until the Port Mafia and the ADA team up for an undercover mission and it's revealed that the woman was actually Chuuya Nakahara.

Nothing but your spine by osamuchuu (Mature, 6k) “Oi, Dazai. We’re here.” Chuuya reached into the car to shake Dazai’s shoulders a bit, rearranging his coat to lay over the man’s back. Dazai swayed and blinked up at him. Whatever painkillers he’d been given had stolen the sharpness from his face. Dazai looked fifteen again, wide-eyed and vulnerable. And then he smiled. He smiled and Chuuya’s heart stuttered because it was so fucking real, so small and different from all the painted faces he wore now. This was dangerous.

strange loyalties by finalizer @tarmairons (Mature, 13k) “The Agency dorms are being fumigated,” Dazai explained cheerfully. “So, I offered—Atsushi can stay with us.” Or: Atsushi's observations from inside Yokohama's strangest household.

[sidenote: this is actually a sequel fic and while i loved the first one, this one really just took me to a whole other plane of existence which is why it's the one on the rec list. i do also rec the first one though!]

Yokohama public High School- almost as crazy as their pep rallies by BlowingYourMind (General Audiences, 20k) "The slacks! They're way too tight on him! Exactly no teachers ass should be like that, the students may be offended-" "Dazai, I think you're the only one that notices, and maybe refrain from eyeing up your co-workers like that-" "But how can I not!" Dazai huffed "It's right there in front of my face, it's hideous!" Oda sighed. he was just an average man with an average job gaining an average salary, but he would need to find a way to help Dazai and his obvious crush on Chuuya Nakahara before he lost his sanity. Or The story of how Chemistry teacher Dazai Osamu fell helplessly for coach Nakahara Chuuya, and the student body's many attempts to get them together.

If you refuse to listen I'll say it twice, love of my life by olympiansally @olympiansally (Mature, 15k) There’s Atsushi, Dazai’s star pupil. There’s Fyodor, arguably Dazai’s soulmate, a single mind in two bodies. There’s Kunikida, Dazai’s partner. There’s Oda, the reason Dazai wants to live. And then there’s Chuuya. If he asked Dazai to define him, to name his purpose, Chuuya already knows what he would hear. Chuuya is his dog, Chuuya is a slug, Chuuya is a chibi. And sure, maybe he is. But none of that is enough. Or, Chuuya can’t figure out what he means to Dazai exactly, but if he would only listen, he would realize that Dazai has been telling him all along.

In the throes of Corruption by BlowingYourMind (Teen and Up Audiences, 7k) Dazai’s ability ‘No longer human’ ironically made Chuuya human. It stripped him of the god that set his insides to flame and wreaked havoc. Corruption was terrible to Chuuya but Dazai’s touch never was. Or Five times Dazai helps Chuuya through the throes of Corruption.

hide the truth by writingfromtheshadows (Not Rated, 24k) When Chuuya wakes up in the middle of an ongoing fight without any memory of how he got there or what happened to him, he ends up turning to someone saved as 'bandage-waster' in his phone. Somehow, it just feels like the right decision.

Dream a little dream of me by BlowingYourMind (Teen and Up Audiences, 9k) "What would you like to dream of, Chuuya?" Dazai asked, and his partner shifted in the bed before settling down. "I dunno idiot, you pick." Dazai hummed, "I believe I can arrange that." Chuuya's eyelashes fluttered against Dazai's palm as Dazai continued to speak, voice turning into a whisper as he spoke late into the night. Or Chuuya can't dream, and Dazai has a soloution that quickly turns into a routine between the two of them.

Multichapter fics (all complete)

in the mirror, i bloom by ephemeralis (Teen and Up Audiences, 12k, 2/2) It twists him, turns him, curls in his chest like something alive, something he knows but can’t dare to name. Chuuya curses the red-black petals that fall from his lips, these nearly rotten things that tear him apart from the inside out. Part of him wants to rip his own traitorous heart out, through a ribcage shattered by feelings he can’t contain. Anger is easy, a thing he’s learned to control. This— whatever the hell this is— is not. Or at least it’s easier to feel as though this is beyond his own control, because Chuuya is not in love. (It feels like a lie even to himself.) After he's hit by a strange ability, Chuuya is forced to consider truths he'd much rather keep hidden- but not everything is as simple it seems.

[sidenote: this was the first bsd fic i ever read and HOOOOLLY CRAP what a beautiful way to join the fandom. i've reread this fic several times since. stunning.]

where your loyalties lie by writingfromtheshadows (Explicit, 163k, 20/20) Loyalty is the foundation of the yakuza code, something that was drilled into Chuuya at an early age. However, his lessons did not cover how to manage a political marriage with his organization's oldest rival.

Inseparable by milwritsecausewhynot (Teen and Up Audiences, 107k, 21/21) Best friends is too simple a term to squash the entire dynamic of Dazai Osamu and Nakahara Chuuya within. Sure, they’ve known each other since they were children, and they’re each other’s #1 on their best friend lists on Snapchat, and Chuuya’s been seen one too many times in his hoodies. People have also noticed how Dazai’s main muse for his volunteer hobby of polaroid photographer is the redhead himself. But the pranks they pull on each other isn’t much of a ‘best friend’ thing to do. Especially when one of the pranks get pulled so far, That Chuuya is forbidden from seeing Dazai ever again. And though he sees no good coming from such a forced separation, the one thing that can enhance their futures together is propelled forward at a faster speed than either of them could have ever imagined: Coming to terms with their unusual feelings for each other.

Do I Get My Worthless Reward Yet? by World_Ender22 (Teen and Up Audiences, 40k, 10/10) Chuuya has always been certain of two things: he is going to die young, and it will be Corruption that kills him. So when the Boss orders him to use his Corrupted form without an out, he is neither surprised nor distressed. He simply does what he's told. When Dazai learns that the whole thing is a ploy to make him rejoin the Mafia, he plans to beat Mori at his own game... starting with convincing Chuuya to join the Armed Detective Agency. / Soukoku

When I Awake by wildflowertea @wildflowerteas (Mature, 235k, 23/23) Dazai Osamu has been in a coma for exactly one year, seven months, and twenty-two days. But Death still refuses to take him. Trapped in the space between worlds, and unable to die, Dazai waits, killing what precious time he may have left and hoping—praying—that his family will pull the plug and move on. He doesn't expect someone to move into his old apartment instead. Nakahara Chuuya, two-time Grammy awards winner, and freshly unemployed pessimist, has never believed in fate—much less the supernatural. But the lively—if a bit annoying—ghost of his apartment's previous tenant, might just change everything.

hopelessly devoted by soukocacola (Explicit, 188k, 18/18) "Get your grades up." Oda tells him. "Then we'll talk." Well, Dazai thinks. If he's going to be miserable, the least he can do is make Chuuya miserable, too. Maybe then Chuuya will ditch him and Dazai can fail out of college with no regrets.

His Prized Experiment by fauxtales @fauxfroot (Mature, 94k, 18/18) "As terrifying as it could be, there was something just so freeing in using Corruption. It is, after all, his strongest state. No one can harm him when he uses Corruption; he is all but invincible. There are days when he lets himself dream. There is the part of him wondering if that’s just the god or his instincts trying to convince him to unleash pure chaos and destruction on the world, but that thought is easy enough to push away. He has no control in that state after all." As a teenager, Chuuya is subjected to experiments at Mori's hand in an attempt to find a way to control Corruption. Now, years later, Mori has decided it's time to revisit the experiments. Dazai is having none of it. But can they really leave their entire life behind?

death offers no absolution by Zairielon (Mature, 62k, 10/10) After so many years in the Port Mafia, Chuuya thought he couldn't be phased by anything - that he had carried out the worst orders that would ever be given to him. Then he sees things he never saw before. He sees horror, cruelty, needless suffering. He sees death in every step he takes. Chuuya is only human, too. Eventually, he breaks. OR, Chuuya leaves the Port Mafia and attempts to escape his bloodstained past.

from a to o, i love you so by anticide @anticidic (Explicit, 22k, 3/3) Here they were dancing a dangerous tango and crossing lines and blurring boundaries that neither Fukuzawa nor Mori would take kindly to. Dazai was supposed to have gotten over Chuuya, not melted in his embrace and bound them together for an eternity. (Or: Dazai and Chuuya's unconventional relationship sparks a radical change within Dazai when he wakes up one day under the weather and feeling very, very off.)

My Body is Your Body (I Won't Tell Anybody) by thereweregiants (Explicit, 26k, 2/2) Thanks to a rogue ability user, Dazai and Chuuya find themselves switching bodies. ...yeah, there's no way this ends well.

Mission - Entrancing Armed Detective Agency by cocktailjjrs (Teen and Up Audiences, 105k, 12/12) “Charming? Have you finally started dreaming now?” Dazai turned to face his longtime partner again “Say what you want, asshole, but people like me better anyway” Chuuya ignored the jab at his lack of dreams, only shrugging in response. “I can bet anything in this world that you can’t be liked by everyone. Your efforts will be fruitless by the end of the day” “Wanna bet?” Chuuya smirked “You’re on!” Dazai returned the smirk “I’ll tell you who your target will be” . . . In which, Dazai and Chuuya are upto their old shenanigans and make a bet. As a result - Bonds are formed, secrets are revealed, money is spent, devious plans are concatenated; someone gets drugged, someone gets punched, someone gets a wakeup slap. And Chuuya's 'brute' image is at imminent risk. All of this - to with the bet!

Prey to Your Instincts by skylorr (Mature, 98k, 8/8) He was a beta. He was normal. Barely any scent, no cycles, no mating instincts. Just plain old normal. At least, that’s what he thought. He thought he was normal. But instead, Dazai is currently curled up on his single mattress in the shipping container that he calls home as he sweats profusely and struggles through cramps, pains, and the desire to nest. His mattress has a single thin blanket, which apparently does not satisfy the omega instincts trying to claw their way out of his mind. He was so close, too; days away from his 17th birthday, the birthday that would have officially made him a beta. Hope is a killer disease.

[sidenote: there is also a sequel to this fic that i recommend just as much! it's still a WIP <3]

Illustrations of Lying by writingfromtheshadows (Mature, 49k, 20/20) It is more difficult, perhaps, to bear with fortitude the little daily trails of life, than great calamities, because we summon up all our spiritual and moral strength to resist the latter... Upon faced with the culmination of Mori's plan, Dazai does not go to Odasaku's side. Instead, he relieves Mori of his duties.

i'll bleed out for you by StarshipDancer @neonganymede (Mature, 75k, 7/7) What a shitty way to die.... Less than forty-eight hours ago, they’d been impaled together, and Chuuya had feared that the broken metal pole had pinned him in place against a corpse. Now, he worried that a corpse sat next to him, nothing more than a poorly-crafted imitation of his ex-partner. ... And what an even shittier situation to be stuck in. Or, A mission goes wrong, and Soukoku die together. Except, they don't, but now they're stuck in a safe house pretending that they did. And if Chuuya wants to find out what went wrong with Dazai's plan, he'll first have to find a way around the wall of silence that his former partner has built to keep him out.

Cigarette Game by chowderpuff (Teen and Up Audiences, 9k, 2/2) Chuuya has a crush on Dazai. Dazai knows this, and he thinks it’s a prime opportunity to mess with his partner a little. After all, why not? Chuuya’s reactions to his flirting are priceless, a new little bonus feature to the game between them, and Dazai actually starts to find it more entertaining than outright arguing. It’s all harmless fun until Dazai realizes that he has feelings too. Then it's decidedly not.

[ author's tumblrs are tagged when i could find them! if you know one who wasn't tagged or if you're an author and would like to be untagged, let me know! ]

#29 fics total jfc ksdhgkshdgkhsdgkh #so yep i definitely could do more of these and i probably will <3 but not for a good minute cus this took me like 2 hours #i love spreading the love and sharing my fave fics and there are sooo many and i didn't want to make this much longer #but anyway!!!#bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #ficrec #fic rec list #fic rec #skk #soukoku #dazai x chuuya #dazai osamu #chuuya nakahara #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #shh ac

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hyunsvngs · 9 months ago

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content warning: fwb to lovers(?), sub masochist!hanjisung, switch!reader, hair pulling (m rec.), scratching (m rec.), brief bondage (m rec., holding down his wrists), dirty talk, degradation (m. rec) safeword mentioned but not used, calls reader Ma’am once, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT GADIES AND LENTLEMEN), hannie is scared to open up :-(, this one kinda sucks LMAO sorry

“Wan’ you on top of me, please I’ll beg you!” He reaches out for you waist.

In moments like these, you remember that Jisung never used to be like this. As of last summer, you and him had broken the sexual tension after years of knowing each other. What started out as a mutual friendship, slowly blossomed into lingering glances along with undressing each other with your eyes, small drunken kisses while alone when out with friends, and flirty messages shared through out the day. To you, the flirty texts shared started to become real… not that you’d ever let him know what. Your heart skips a beat even just thinking about him, it’s been so hard to not think romantically when y’all keep each other company.

The first few times y’all had sex, it never felt natural for Jisung to take control of the situation- even you could tell. One night after a session, he let it slip over take out that he thinks he would thrive on the receiving end of most things y’all do in the bedroom. For the next hour and a half, it was communicated what he expected from being the submissive one. Concerns and questions were talked though and now here you are, after months of figuring out the dynamic- dealing with a noisy, greedy, Jisung.

“Hannie, shut up.” You snap at him. His arms fall to his sides, his body slumped against the headboard of your bed, small pout on his face. You’re kneeled to the left of him on the bed, his thighs in front of your knees.

“Sungie?” You place your left pointer finger in the middle of his sternum and drag it down slowly, fingernail somewhat digging into the skin of his stomach the further you go. The red trail that follows looks delicious against his honey skin.

“Yes ma’am?” His eyes find yours in almost record time, boba eyes shinning brightly.

“Tell me the safe word, baby.” You whisper as you give in and lift your body off your haunches and swing your left leg over Jisung’s hips, hands settling on his shoulders. When the back of your thighs meet the tops of his, he releases a shaky breath.

“You know I know, just lemme-“ His hands flies to your waist and he groans. But you know this is natural for him, his body making its arousal known between the open space of your thighs. He gets mouthy- this is too natural for Jisung, he forgets the rules so easily. That’s how you know this is how he’s meant to be.

Your right hand begins its ascend towards the back of his neck and through the roots of hair at the base, where you slowly make a fist- tugging hard. “Hands off of me. You fucking greedy brat, tell me the safe word or we’re not gonna take care of your little problem.” To emphasize your words, you grind down against him. Jisung’s touch disappears and he whimpers at the sudden movement.

“Red. Red! Oh my go-mmhph!” What better way to shut him up than with a kiss. A nice and slow kiss. Eyes closed, teeth nipping at lips, spit dripping down between you two. Moments pass and your hand shoves at his chest to push yourself away, gasping and panting among the two of you- your own head starting to become fuzzy. You know you’re wet, you can feel it yourself but when you begin to move off his lap, Jisung makes it well known that he can see it too.

“Holy- you’re so wet baby,” he starts, quickly looking away, “I’m gonna cum if I keep looking.” When you moved off of him, he caught a glimpse of your arousal in the form of a string connected to his cock- the spot where you were sitting now shiny.

It’s hard not to slip into your own submissive tendencies when he begins to talk like that, but you’ve gotten better at pulling yourself out for his sake. “I’m gonna ride you okay, Hannie? You want that? Gotta lay down for me.”

He knows what to do, lay down on the bed completely and let his body relax so you can take control. Head turned to his left and following your movements as you approach and take the same position as before. He thinks you look absolutely ethereal like this; ready to defile him.

Lately, he’s become sentimental when it comes to you. His heart jumps up into his throat when he receives messages from you asking about his day, even texts asking what he was doing later that night- anyone can guess what that means, and messages alike. The conversations had before and after “hangouts”, the meals shared during actual hangouts, the looks he gives you that go unnoticed (or so he thinks). You’re the most beautiful, kind, and genuine soul he’s ever met- if this is all he can have of you, he’d be dumb not to take it.

Your left leg swings over his hips and you sit your weight on him, and he keens at the skin-on-skin contact. Your hands grab for his wrists that he left at his sides, and pull them up towards the headboard. His biceps are slightly flexed in this position, his hands now by his head. Your eyes glance over his face just to admire his features- his lidded eyes, his pouty pink lips and his perfect nose. He looks so debauched but perfect. Your heart starts to race and now you can tell that he can tell that you’re staring at him. He’s waiting.

“Gonna let me use your cock, Hannie?” You question, head slightly tilted to the left. He’s never nodded so eagerly, his eyes lidded with lust.

You release his right wrist and reach behind for his cock. He jumps at the sudden touch, but pants when you nudge the head at your entrance. Jisung gasps loudly as you lower your hips over his, cock bullying its way through your pussy. Moans escape your mouth when you sit all the way down- his cock head nudging your cervix. Jisung’s mouth holds the ‘o’ shape so perfectly.

“Shhhh baby, just let me take it.” You console him. He feels so good- goosebumps risen on his arms, cock already dripping inside of you. You’ve started a slow pace, getting used to the angle. Every time you come down, Hannie just can’t help but whimper. He’s losing it, you think. Eyes crossing and uncrossing, he even starts talking but cuts himself off with a gasp or moan each time.

“Hannie, you sounds like a disgusting whore right now.” Your hands find themselves on his chest, placing your weight onto the muscle so you can speed up. “Don’t forget to keep your hands to yourself too.” You’re becoming breathless, thighs straining but you wanna give him all you got. He deserves that. He deserves anything and everything he wants. You wish he would want you too. You can dream.

“I w-I will! Come on baby! Please- Ride my cock baby, take it! It’s yours! All yours!” He’s talking so fast you’re sure he isn’t even aware what he’s saying. You lean forward and grip his face with your left hand , thumb and other fingers placed on opposite cheeks, pinching towards the middle. You hear the fainted whisper of ‘I love you’ fall from between his lips. Apart of you wants to stop and ask him what he means, if what he just said is true. But he’s too far gone and that conversation can wait until the endorphins die down.

“You gonna let me take it, Hannie? Just wanna be my little fucktoy, huh?” You begin to dig your nails into his face, and he moans loudly. Your bouncing ceased, and you bring your other hand from the middle of his chest and drag it over to his right nipple and pinch. You mimic his gasp. One more bounce from you, and he’s begging.

“Oh fuck! I think I’m gonna cum! Can I cum? Please let me cum this time! fuckfuckfuck I can’t hold it!” His eyes can’t help but cross again.

“Cum for me baby,” You say lovingly, “want a little more pain?” Your right hand falls to his stomach and you drag all of your nails from the top of his toned stomach, to just below his navel. As soon as you lift your hand to repeat your actions, your pussy flutters in time with his cum spurting out and filling you up. His body twitches with each ripple of his orgasm.

“That’s it Hannie.. give me your cum. What a good boy!” You grind on his lap to let him ride out his orgasm.

Not long after, he convinces you to ride his face to get rid of the pressure between your legs. He never had an issue with eating his cum out of you, just another degrading task he gets off on. After your chance at pure white hot bliss, you bring up his senseless babbling while eating pizza.

“Sungie, I have a question.” You start, then take a bite of pizza. He looks to you and watches you chew. After gulping, you continue. “Are you aware of what you say when we have sex? Like are you going off of pure adrenaline and endorphins, or are you saying what you want to say?” You put the slice you were holding onto a plate.

“Uh- I mean. Yes and no? Most of the time I’m intentionally saying things, but I wouldn’t doubt it if I said something I don’t recall.” Jisung’s looks away. He knows he’s setting this up, he knows exactly why you’re asking and he can’t believe he slipped up this bad. He can expect to never hear from you again, especially when he sees you slowly nodding your head. You’re soaking in this information and applying it to what you know, he figures. He’s fucked.

“Jisung?” You look down at your hands, which are now folded in your lap. He hums. “Did you mean it?” There it is.. the million dollar question, he thinks. You resume, “That it’s mine? All mine? That you love me?” He can’t look you in the eyes, he just can’t.

Eyes are the window to the soul, and he would spill everything to you if he did just that. All of his secrets, his guilty pleasures, his likes and dislikes, his passions, his values and morals, his mistakes and regrets, his fears. While you know a lot of things, knowing all of the things that make Jisung, Jisung would be crossing a line. A line he wouldn’t mind distorting or even dissolving nonetheless.

“I’ll take a leap of faith and be honest with you, Hannie. If that’s what you need.” You shift your body towards him on the couch, hands splaying out on top of your thighs. “I love you Han Jisung, and I have for a while. I’m sorry if I misun-“ Lips softly tangle with yours and you can feel his hand cupping your cheek, he’s taking initiative by tilting his head to deepen the kiss. A moment passes, and he leans back.

“I love you. I love you so much. iloveyouiloveyou-“ he whispers as he leans in one last time before settling in for the night.

agggggain the end is rushed :P don’t expect anything else from me BUT YAYAY i’ve been sitting on this for a few days and tbh i don’t really like it ;( I’ve changed many MANY things about it but idk 🤷🏻‍♀️ this is how i know I’m not a writer. anywhooooo thanks for reading babe <3 ALSSOOOO THOSE HAN PICS FROM BUBBLE?????? OH LORD

-✖️

HAVE U GOT A BLOG. BAVE U GOT A BLGO

#juno’s asks ♡#✖️ anon 💌#asks: jisung

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stratocumulusperlucidus · 2 months ago

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Mind the tags and take care of yourselves 💖

(Let me know if i should add other tags, i'll probably be posting about this a bit more but i know it's a sensitive topic)

No easy way to say this so i'll just rip off the band-aid. Janet had chronic kidney disease and it got worse and she passed away on Wednesday. I'm glad we were with her at the end and I'm glad she isn't suffering anymore and I miss her so so much.

Thanks everyone who sent good vibes and kind words last week 💖💖💖 we might complain a lot about tumblr being a hellsite and sometimes it is but there's so many kind people here and i really appreciate all of you 💖

I wrote about some of my favorite things about Janet because she was a great cat and everyone should know a little bit about her.

Most nights Janet would lay down on me, on my legs or on my back, or cuddle up against me. And I was always careful not to move too much to avoid disturbing her, but if I did, she would always come back anyways. Going to bed without her is probably the hardest thing.

When I was working from home, she would often come see me in the afternoon and curl up on my lap. If i had a zoom meeting, she would walk on the couch behind me or step on my lap to ask for attention and my coworkers always enjoyed seeing her.

She was never a very active or playful cat, but she was so cuddly. She could spend hours laying down on my lap or on my chest or against me. She liked it when we scratched her neck, and she would press against our hand so we scratched harder. She liked to get forehead kisses and she liked to give head bonks (she would bonk us pretty hard sometimes, it was almost kinda painful!)

She knew where to sit on the stove to make it beep to get our attention so we would open the tap to let her drink.

She was never the most agile cat, always very prudent and careful. Like she would wait for us to move our arm from the armrest so she could step down from the back of the couch instead of jumping from it. She wouldn't jump up on something without first looking up if she could.

She liked to lay down in the sun in the morning. Stretch out and bask in the warmth, flopped down on the balcony or on the carpet.

She always knew where to find the best cozy quiet places to nap. A few times we were searching for her for a while and we were so worried, up until we found her, asleep on a pile of towels in a bathroom cabinet we left half open.

She was so soft. She smelled so good. I miss her.

Grief is weird and i never know how to comfort people going through it because it's so different for everyone so i thought i'd share what i think might help me feel better. If you'd like, here's some things i would appreciate:

Send pictures of the pets you love or the pets you lost and tell me about them

Send fluffy or smutty fic recs (i've been reading please, please have me and re-reading voice note because i guess smut is comforting? Idk, grief is really weird)

Tight hugs / cuddle pile? being crushed and smothered by mutuals sounds nice rn

#tw animal death #tw pet death #tw death #tw pet loss #Janet

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cultofsappho · 1 year ago

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WIP WEDNESDAY

I don't have a fancy banner for wip wednesday, but I thought the bi flag would do. I don't usually do these, and the rwrb fandom rarely has these posts, but idc bc i'm very excited about the rwrb fic im working on!

I'm going back to work on my art school AU after a long break from it, with renewed energy!

Quick summary:

Alex transfers to a private art school in New York and ends up sharing a studio space with Henry, the golden boy of the school who just got back from an artist's residency in Paris. Henry is everything Alex thought he'd be by now. He already has such a sucessful career, not having even graduated yet, and Alex can't help but feel behind in comparison.

Excerpt below the cut:

[this scene takes place during a crique in thier shared Figure Drawing class.]

“Yes, thank you for starting us off.”

Alex gives her a winning smile. “There’s a lot of talent here, everyone did really well for the first project. I’m new here, so let me know if I’m out of left field, but it looks like everyone, myself included, might have focused too much on the torso and not enough on the limbs. We’re all a little hesitant, maybe?”

Sarah nods “I agree, good observation. Don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of time to practice arms and legs in a few weeks. I might be able to squeeze in an extra session on that if we think we need it then.”

Alex sees movement out of the corner of his eye.

“Yes, Henry.” Sarah turns to him.

“Just, on the same note,” His eyes dart to Alex then back. “Weren’t we to focus on the overall proportions this time, and not to get caught up in the fine details?”

Alex scowls at him, he crosses his arms and looks away, back towards the drawings as if he were unaware of Henry’s tone.

“Yes, that was the intent. But it’s also good to take stock of overall weaknesses as well, so we know how best to spend our time for the rest of the semester.”

Alex bites his lip so he doesn’t smile. Get fucked, Mr. Perfect.

He inspects Henry’s drawing, looking for a weakness to exploit. His limbs are all on point. Elbows at the waist, shoulders just under three heads apart, accounting for the model’s lean build.

It’s too perfect. There’s always a flaw.

If he squints, he sees a hint of cross hatching on the edges, like Henry got bored too, and couldn’t stop himself from a little shading.

Alex smirks and gestures to the piece next to Henry’s. “But this one- I’m sorry, I don’t know everyone’s names yet- This one is great. I can still kind of see how many times you erased and started over, whoever made this one is really focused on measuring. They have more patience than me, for sure. But the one next to it,” He gestures to Henry’s. “Is that shading? I can’t really tell.”

Henry glares at him from across the room. Alex imagines steam coming out of his ears.

“Yes, that’s mine, I had lost track of the internal oblique muscle and used a little cross hatching on the edge to find it again.”

Henry takes a step closer to Alex’s piece. He eyes it carefully, the corner of his lip twitching up.

“You put a lot more emphasis on the skeleton than I did. I can almost see it peaking through.” It was a harsh dig; the model wasn’t skinny by any means. Meaning that- “I think it’s affecting the likeness. I don’t quite recognise Martin in it.”

Of course he learned the model’s name. Of fucking course.

I'm still working away at this, but I honestly can't tell how long this is going to end up being, so I'm hesitant to post ch 1 until I have more done!

Idk who to tag bc i dont which mutuals i have that actively work on fic... so, if you're working on something, please join and tag me in your excerpts!! or reply here so we can start this up in the fandom! the fic rec fridays have been so fun, time for wip wednesdays!!

If you made it this far tysm!!!! I'm! very! excited! (and currently working on some slutty ass pottery scenes rn tbh. just another teaser.)

Keep an eye out for this fic in the near future on my ao3: notcanoncompliant

#wip wednesday #rwrb #firstprince #writing

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shwazzberryswriting · 3 years ago

Text

Playing With Fire

Pairing: Jaehyun x Femme Reader

Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Idol NCT/Firefighter NCT Universe, Friends to Lover, Mutual Pining, Light Angst, Fluff, One Shot

Summary: There are challenges to spending an evening with the hottest firefighter from the NCT Fire Department, Jeong Jaehyun

Word count: 9.3k

Rating/Warnings: Mature/Not Beta Read, Cigarette Smoking, Alcohol Consumption, Marijuana Use (Mentioned), Kissing, Explicit Sexual Content: Rough Sex, Impact Play, Brat Taming, Choking, Vaginal Fingering, Penis in Vagina Sex, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Protected Sex, Aftercare, Praising, Cum Swallowing, Dom/Sub

Minors DNI! 18+ ONLY

Author’s Note: Prompted from an Ask. Thank you for the request OP Nonny! I can go on a ramble about this fic. 🥰 All I will say is, I have no idea what it was about this prompt and the ideas that came...but it all led to this fic, and I really, really hope you will enjoy this fic!!🥺💚 It was so much fun to write. Thank you as always for reading!!!💗

Apologies in advance for any mistakes, shortcomings or messing up OP's fantasy

If you want to send in a Request ➡️ 💚

Please let me know of any technical errors or if you have feedback/questions

Song Rec: "Just My Imagination" by The Temptations 🍑

* His lips were flushed. Pressing the brown end of the cigarette into his mouth, Jaehyun’s eyes were fixed on the flame from his lighter. His porcelain cheeks hollowed, lips pursing, as he inhaled, lighting up his cigarette. Her throat was dry and her cheeks were burning up, eyes unable to leave the firefighter seated across from her.

He was Mr. May in the newest NCT Fire Department Pin-Up calendars. She was reminded of his oiled up chest when his collarbone peeked out from the stretched neck of his NCTFD shirt. He ran his free hand through his hair, the wavy locks bouncing over his forehead as they fell back into place. Try as she might to forget about the image, it was all she could think about.

Jaehyun had been running one hand through his hair in his pin-up picture. He’d been topless; chest, abs and arms oiled up, glistening in his brightly lit picture. The cool sky blue background contrasted with his hot pose. Wearing red rubber boots with black fireproof pants, he stood with his legs wide open, cocking his head to one side. The thick yellow straps hung down at his hips, tugging his loose waistband low enough to show off the lines at his pelvis.

Inguinal Crease

Jungwoo had informed her that the lines on Jaehyun’s hips, the sexy “V” cut that attracted her eyes to his body instantly, had an official term. Though she’d denied staring that hard at Jaehyun during his shoot, if anyone were to ask her about the day she would have to lie about remembering much else from the photoshoot.

Seeing smoke escape his lips, she blinked a few times, trying to be rid of Mr. May. Picking up her pint of beer, she drank as the table became hazy, smoke billowing out from Jaehyun’s lips. The tip of his tongue swiped his lower lip, sending heat down her stomach. The smoky sweetness of the tobacco tickled her nose. She touched the tip of her nose to stop herself from sneezing. His eyes narrowed into tiny slits as he took another drag from his cigarette, resting his back into his seat.

“How’s your evening?” he asked, his voice smooth, calm. White clouds curled out of the corners of his lips as he shut his mouth. Licking her lips, they tingled as she wondered if his lips would taste like beer or like tobacco. Jaehyun pulled the glass ashtray at the center of the table toward his side, tapping the cigarette against it. His eyes reflected the orange blaze from the end of his cigarette as he took another long drag. Holding his breath as he set the cigarette down on the ashtray, his lips thinned. A moment later, he turned his head to his left, blowing out smoke, making sure not to direct it toward her. Some of it still made it to her, absorbing into her hair and dress.

“Good.” She drained her pint, the cold beer relieving her throat’s irritation. She set her phone down beside the ketchup and hand sanitizer. The battery was at 2%, forcing her to give him company. “I know Taeyong told me to relax, but technically I’m working on the clock. I should stop drinking, right?”

Her phone’s desperate state was a good excuse to call it a night. Two drinks was the polite amount to drink, especially if she wanted to come off professional. She had to wait for Taeyong to return to get his permission to leave, though.

“Right?” She’d been waiting for him to respond, but he’d simply rolled his cigarette between his fingers as he slowly blew out a stream of smoke. “What do you mean?” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his shoulders hunching over.

“Do you ever listen to me?” She pushed her empty pint toward the center of the table, next to his empty pint. “I’m still working, so I should stop at two drinks, right?”

“Drink as much as you want. The bill comes out of your boss’s company’s pocket, use up that corporate cash. I think Taeyong invented the budget manager role for you tonight.” “Why would he do that?”

“Because the last time he invited you to come out for drinks with us you went home.”

She sat up straight, watching Jaehyun raise his hand, calling out to a waiter. Her cheeks flushed, admiring the way his Adam’s apple bounced as he talked. Lights from above reflected into his eyes as he laughed, motioning with his left hand, inviting their waiter to come to their table.

Weeks ago, Taeyong had asked her if she wanted to go out and celebrate one of the NCTFD member’s birthdays, but she’d declined. Her excuse had been because she didn’t want to intrude upon their private celebrations. But she’d been afraid of Jaehyun.

She still was.

“Do you want anything?” he asked. “I got us each a pint of beer. Jungwoo wants chicken tenders and hot dogs.”

“More beer?” His dimples appeared as he chuckled, nodding. She smiled, feeling tension loosen in her chest as her body warmed up. His disarming smile was working because of the beer. It had to be the beer. “Where did everyone go?”

She looked around the crowded bar. She and Jaehyun were seated at the left side of the bar, where three long tables were lined up together. There were 23 NCTFD members celebrating with their supporters, it was the only way for all of them to be seated together. And, it allowed for easy fan interaction. It was rare for them (especially Doyoung) not to be surrounded by the MILF Brigade, a local fanclub.

The self-titled MILF Brigade had been created by a group of housewives who knew how to market the NCTFD calendars. Not all members were mothers, wives or women, but they were enthusiastic in their thirsty support of NCTFD. Many MILF Brigade members often showed up to NCTFD’s chosen hangout bar, The Cherry Bomb.

Jaehyun shrugged as he finished scoping the place out. He snuffed out the cigarette, blowing out a thick cloud of smoke. As he glanced over his shoulder, she poked her finger at her phone.

Was he avoiding eye contact with her?

“Thanks, man,” Jaehyun said, grinning at their waiter. He pushed a plate of thick cut potato fries toward her before giving her the first two pints of beer. “Come on, you wanted more beer, you have to find space for another two pints. You have to work for your beer.”

She laughed, setting the pints down to her left. When their table was filled with fried bar food and a couple dozen pints of beer, she looked around for their friends again. Nothing but strangers, not even a MILF Brigade member was around.

“Did you really order a banana milkshake?” she asked, pointing to a long necked stainless steel cup. It sat beside his slice of pizza, loaded with green and red peppers over thick pepperoni slices.

She snorted into her pint, noticing the tips of his ears turn pink. He threw his hand up to his mouth, dimples deepening as he laughed, pointing at the beer foam that flew into her face. Eyes shut, she brushed the sticky foam off her forehead and nose with a napkin, feeling her face flush. She blew her tendrils out of her eyes as she opened them, taking a long drink of beer.

“Banana milkshakes are good.” The lines at the corners of his eyes remained as he took a sip from his straw. “You’re free to drink some if you want.”

She bit into the thick steak fry in her hand. Salt melted onto her tongue as oil glided over her taste buds. The inside of the fried potato was mushy, while the outside had enough crisp to crunch in her mouth, the perfect fried potato. It paired well with beer.

“I can’t imagine drinking a milkshake along with beer.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I worry about throwing up. Milk being regurgitated? Are you kidding me?”

He laughed, leaning back. Mouth wide open, eyes crinkling up, low belly guffaws.

“You don’t have to get so drunk that you’re throwing up. Unless that’s how you drink?”

“Ha ha, finish your pizza.”

He grinned as he chewed, making his dimples bounce as he watched her drink another pint. It took everything in her not to lean over the table and grab him by the front of his shirt. Kiss him until she was breathing smoke out of her lips. It scared her how much she enjoyed being with him. Eyes fixed on her plate of fries, she ate silently with her special concoction of ketchup, mayo and honey mustard. She was afraid to look into his eyes.

It was that damned night they went to karaoke to cheer up Xiaojun, who had just been dumped. She’d gotten high with Mark and Jaehyun, and Mark had dared them to sing a duet together. In the middle of singing their duet, staring into his eyes, she’d realized that she got along so well with Jaehyun because she liked him and almost cried. She’d warbled through the ending, but Jaehyun’s sweet, smooth voice saved them, winning them the prize of “Best Duet”.

“Yo! Thanks for the food!” Mark’s voice always arrived before he did. Eyes red, the left corner of his lips raised, Mark slumped into the chair beside Jaehyun. “Yo, why do we have, like, 30 cups of beer?”

“We haven’t toasted,” Jaehyun said, pushing his half empty plate of loaded nachos toward Mark. “Once I finally got the order in you all ran off.”

“Sorry. I had to go use the bathroom.”

“Yeah, I can smell your bathroom break, man.”

She snorted. Amongst the tobacco smoke, food and liquor, Mark’s marijuana stench was infiltrating her nose too. The pungent floral scent, a specific stench from Mark’s homegrown plants, both delighted and disgusted her. Being high with Mark often came with a lot of laughs, but the last time she’d gotten high she ended her night crying over Jaehyun.

“Finally! Food!” Jungwoo slid into the chair to her right. He reached over to pinch Mark’s cheek. Mark pinched Jungwoo’s cheek in return as they laughed together. “When are we going to toast, man? I’m starving!” “You all ran off.” Jaehyun had downed a pint of beer somewhere between Mark arriving and Jungwoo arriving. “Let’s get to it or I’m drinking every fucking pint, man.”

“Me too!” She picked up her second pint and clinked it against Jaehyun’s.

“Sorry!” Taeyong arrived with a handful of the NCTFD members talking loudly behind him. “We took pictures with the MILF Brigade!”

“Thanks, man,” Jaehyun said, picking up a pint to hand to Taeyong. “You always manage to negotiate with them.” “Come on!” Haechan said, sitting beside Mark. “They support us! It was kind of them to agree to the photos and give us privacy!”

“Clean your hands first!” Taeyong hollered as Mark and Jungwoo were about to pick up some food.

“Shit, yeah.” Mark, in his haste, knocked Jaehyun’s milkshake over as he reached for the hand sanitizer. “Holy shit!”

The silver cup tipped forward directly over her phone. The pale yellow milkshake splashed against the table. The cup rolled over toward Jaehyun’s side of the table. She flinched as she felt thick droplets hit her face. She stood, her heart beating fast.

“Fuck!” Jaehyun's outburst surprised her.

She looked up to see Jaehyun and Jungwoo also standing on their feet. Both men had their eyes wide open, hands up in the air. Jungwoo’s clothes were dry, but the spot he’d just been seated at had the milkshake dripping down the edge of the table. Jaehyun was not spared. At the front of his dark denim jeans, the milkshake stain was all over his crotch and dripping down the left side of his thigh.

Everyone paused.

Taeyong pointed to Jaehyun’s giant come-like stain, and gave out a loud belly laugh. Eyes shut tight, mouth wide open, he looked to be in pain as he laughed. Mark and Haechan burst out into belly laughs. More NCTFD members arrived and in a matter of seconds the bar erupted into uproarious laughter. The tips of Jaehyun’s ears were beet red, and she picked up her milkshake covered phone, holding it out at an arm’s distance.

Jaehyun walked past Mark, and she followed him, grabbing her things. Seeing that he was heading to the restrooms, she continued to follow him. They parted ways when he walked into the Men’s restroom and she to the Women’s.

She didn’t have much hope for her phone after wiping it clean. The milkshake had seeped inside her phone, and she couldn’t rinse it out. Covering it in a few layers of paper towels, she put it into her purse before leaving the restroom.

“Get some shots with me,” Jaehyun said when she’d exited the restroom. His pants had recovered well, but the dim lighting of the bar likely hid the damage leftover. “I need it, and so do you.”

“I think my phone is dead. Like, dead dead.”

“All shots on me. It was my milkshake.”

Gripping onto the straps of her purse, she nodded, letting him lead her to the bar at the back. Hiding from the rest of NCTFD, they found a quiet corner, sitting on the soft wooden stools. The bartender left them alone with a bottle of Grey Goose to attend to more demanding guests.

“To my ruined phone.” She held up her cold shot glass up to her eye level.

“To my ruined image.”

He clinked his shot glass against hers before throwing his head back, shot glass against his lips. Slamming the shot glass onto the counter, he groaned with close lips before pouring himself another shot. He drank it immediately before pouring himself another, lips shut tight. His Adam’s apple bounced up and down as he swallowed. His neck was long, thick, tempting.

She closed her eyes as she tilted her head back, shot glass pressed against her lips. The cold liquid burned her throat. Licking up the droplets of vodka off her lips, she set her shot glass down onto the counter, eyes on her hands.

“Throw it down.” He poured her another full glass. “It needs to smack the bar counter.”

“Why?”

“Because, that’s how you get aggression out.”

“Soft voice, rough hands.”

The tips of his ears turned pink. She sucked onto her bottom lip, looking down at the water rings their shot glasses had created. It was worse knowing that he heard her, as if it wasn’t embarrassing enough having spoken her thoughts aloud.

He poured himself another shot. Their eyes met, and the apples of his cheeks were dotted with pink spots. His dimples appeared as they picked up their shots, clinking the shot glasses together. Silently, they drank together, and she shook the counter with him as they slammed their glasses onto the counter.

“Hey! Stop it!” the bartender shouted from the other end of the bar. “Jae, I’ll toss you out. I’m serious.”

“We’re on our way out,” he said, raising his hand. “Thanks for everything.”

“I’m fucked,” she said, placing her’s purse strap over her shoulder. “My phone’s dead. How am I supposed to get home?” “I’ll fetch us an Uber. It’s not a big deal.”

“Thanks.”

The summer night air was so humid her loose tendrils clung to the back of her neck the moment she was outside. They waited for their ride across the street from the bar, under the lamp beside the closed donut shop. The shop gave NCTFD 20% discounts in appreciation of the work they provided to the community.

Jaehyun had taken a cigarette out with his black plastic lighter. Loose tendrils fell over his forehead as he tilted his head to light his cigarette. Seeing his lips wrapped around the cigarette, his cheeks hollowing, she wanted him between her legs with the same sort of focus.

Her body flaring up in heat and adrenaline, she looked away. Crossing her arms over chest, she didn’t want to think about Mr. May with the oily body and perfect inguinal crease. She’d managed to make things awkward between them and she didn’t have a phone to distract her as they waited for their ride.

“Can I have a smoke?” she asked, turning to face him. “Just a few puffs, I swear.”

“I didn’t know you smoke.”

Their fingers touched and she fought the urge to fall into his arms. The warmth of his touch sent heat to her nipples. She hummed with her mouth shut, trying to disguise her pitiful moan as she began clearing her throat, pressing the cigarette against her lips.

The smoke glided against her tongue, gently burning down her throat and tickling her sinuses as she inhaled. Holding her arm up, wrist snapped back with her fingers curled over her palm, she had the cigarette between her index and middle fingers. The warming, rushing sensation of tobacco and nicotine swam up to her head and through her lungs.

“I smoke occasionally.” She took another drag, the earthy smoky flavor filling her senses. “Is it a bad idea to ask Mark for a joint?”

“You like Mark?”

She coughed, spitting out puffs of smoke through her mouth and nose, dropping the cigarette. He guffawed, stepping over to rest his hand on her shoulder.

“Mark?! What makes you think I like Mark?”

“I thought you said you’d never get high again after we sang-”

“-Fuck! I did say that!”

She clapped her hand over mouth, eyes wide. Turning her back to Jaehyun, she saw red as her vision blurred and the ground felt like it had turned into the ocean as her legs shook. Hand planted against the glass window, her chest felt heavy and her knees ached.

She’d felt something deep inside of her when they’d sung their duet. When he’d reached out and held her hand for the second half of the song, that had been when she was too high and drunk to hold back her true feelings.

Their duet had aligned them together so well she didn’t want to leave his side. Being with Jaehyun was a harmonious existence and that feeling had been kept at an arm’s length for weeks. But with liquor flowing through her body and Jaehyun so close, it was coming closer and closer, ready to break.

“For what it’s worth,” she heard Jaehyun say, her eyes fixed on her shoes, “I think you have a lovely voice.”

Swallowing air, she shut her eyes. It was his kindness under all that aloofness and snark that really got to her. Her chest felt tight, like her body couldn’t contain her heart anymore. Fingers gripping onto her arms, her mind spun as her body was too hot for comfort. Trying to focus on her breathing, in through her nose and out through her mouth, she wanted to be rid of the half formed, contrasting thoughts about the possibilities between them.

“Thank you.”

She turned around, arms remaining crossed over her chest. He was snuffing the cigarette out against the concrete with the bottom of his shoe. Hands in his front pockets, his eyes were hidden under his curtain of hair before he shook his hair out his eyes. Looking at her for three solid seconds, a smile broke out, his teeth shining under the lamp.

“You’ve got milkshake stains.” He blew raspberries before laughing, hands over his stomach. “On your face.”

“You only noticed now?” Her body flared in mortification, heat rushing into her ears. She dug her hand into her purse, fishing for her compact mirror.

“Let me help,” he said, clearing his throat, cutting off his guffaws.

She froze, feeling nothing but the heat from his hands holding her cheeks, hearing nothing but the slow inhale through her nose. As his face came close, she shut her eyes, feeling his wet lips over her right cheek. Tongue swiping near her left jawline. A kiss at the tip of her nose.

“Jaehyun.” She uncrossed her arms to touch his chest, feeling the ground turn into ocean waves again.

He stepped back, releasing her right arm, gliding his touch down her left. Their eyes met. His cheeks were flushed, his gaze soft, eyes hooded. She wasn’t ready to leave his touch.

The bright headlights from a SUV grabbed her attention. His hold on her arm remained as they slowly walked over to their Uber ride. The stroke of his thumb on the back of her palm sent a shiver up her back.

She was silent as she buckled up, looking at him. Heat rushed up her face as she caught Jaehyun’s eyes drifting down and up her body. The tips of his ears flushed when she captured his gaze.

“Should we clean up at my place?” she asked, her heart beating loudly in her ears.

His dimples deepened as he grinned, nodding. Her cheeks burned as he hooked his index and middle fingers over hers, pulling her arm toward him. Throwing her head back, she laughed, the vodka flooding her thoughts.

When they exited the car, Jaehyun wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back to his front, letting her lead them to her place. The tobacco smoke blended with banana and vanilla in a surprisingly pleasant scent, though she preferred the floral oaky musk he emitted when his lips touched her neck.

His radiating warmth was burning her up, and she breathed out his name into the air. They were just a few steps away from her front door. He groaned into her neck, his vocal cords reverberating into her back, heating up her breasts and core.

“If I could fuck you right now-,” right arm around her waist, his left hand grabbed her wrist to throw her arm against the side of the house, pinning her body against the wall with his, “-but only if you say yes.”

Eyes shut tight, she took in a slow breath, savoring the stinging of his hold on her wrist. The pressure of his body over hers, her breasts pressed against the wall, sent heat rushing up and down her body. She wanted him to fuck her right then and there.

“We’re supposed to clean up,” she breathed out softly. He released her immediately, his eyes wide when she turned around. Taking his hand, she raised it to her lips, reassuring him with a kiss on his knuckles.

They entered her house quietly, the lamp at the front door providing them with enough light to move around. Jaehyun sat at the foot of her stairs to take his shoes off as she locked up. Kicking off her shoes, she watched him slip his socks off, fumbling fingers trying to stuff his socks into his sneakers. The moment she stood before him, he kicked his shoes aside and stood.

Hands grabbing his neck, she pulled him to her, and their lips met. As his lips touched hers she opened her mouth to capture his. Inhaling, her clit twitched as his sweet, smoky musk enveloped her entire body. Her tongue swiped his lips as she deepened her kisses. His tongue pushed against hers, and she moaned. He swirled his tongue around her mouth, flicking her tongue before capturing her top lip between his lips. Shifting his head to the other side, he kissed her bottom lip.

“You taste so sweet,” she breathed out, thumb pressing against his lips to stop him from continuing the kisses.

Her body lit up as he opened his mouth, tongue pushing against the pad of her thumb. His thumb pushed into her mouth as he sucked on hers. Humming, she swiped her tongue in and out gently before sucking in. Saliva was building fast as the taste of his metallically, salty thumb filled her mouth.

“What do you want to do?” he asked, pulling her thumb out of his mouth, his free hand caressing her hip. He swiped his saliva covered thumb along her bottom lip, retrieving it from her mouth.

“I want us to have sex,” she replied. The corners of his eyes crinkled, and he gave a low guffaw. Her face prickled with heat and she looked away, embarrassed. She pushed against his chest when he tried pulling her in for a kiss. “Do you listen to me?”

“I hear you. You want us to have sex.” He guffawed. Her face flared with heat again. She pushed him again, forcing him to break their embrace. “I’m sorry. Your directness is sweet.”

The back of his knuckles traced across the low cut of her dress’s neckline, lighting up her chest. Her hands were rubbing his stomach, wanting to feel his abs. Fisting the fabric at his stomach into her hands, she wanted the shirt gone.

“Jaehyun,” she panted, her eyes closing as his lips landed on her neck.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him to her. He groped her ass, lips pressing against her neck. His teeth and lips pinched her skin as she drew circles into his back with the tips of her fingers. Heat bubbled into her core as she felt his cock warm and stiffen against her.

“How do you want it?” Both hands cupped her face, his thumbs caressing her cheeks. “I don’t want to scare you like I did outside.”

Her heart was beating so fast her whole body throbbed. His eyes were searching her face, lips parted and damp. The slightest crease between his eyebrows formed.

“I don’t want to be seen by my neighbors,” she said, her chest shaking as she gave a chuckle. “I like it rough, Jaehyun. Why do you think I like you so much? Because your praises mean more to me than anyone else’s? It’s because you’re a strong, arrogant firefighter, Mr. May.”

“‘Strong and arrogant.’” He chuckled low, the tips of his ears flushed as he looked away. “Who knew you were such a dirty slut?” Adrenaline raced up her spine, sending chills down her front as Jaehyun grabbed her ass and pulled her body tight against his. Left hand touching her chin he planted a soft kiss on her lips. “Tell me to stop and I will stop right away, OK?” “Yes, got it.” Her hands shook as she raised them to caress his chest. His pecs were firm.

“Don’t try to be brave. If you don’t like it, say stop and I’ll stop. I swear, I’ll stop. I want you to feel good, safe.”

“Got it,” she said, her hands cupping his cheeks. “Thank you for being so clear. I appreciate it.”

She kissed him, hands moving to caress his shoulders. He licked her lips, fingers sending warmth into her as they glided up her back. As he grabbed the back of her neck, she winced at the sting of his fingers digging into her skin. Blood rushed to her nipples, hardening them. Slipping her dress off as soon as she felt him unzip the back of her dress, she fell back into her couch.

Everything spun. She breathed through her mouth, hands planted flat at her sides, feeling for the cushions. Her right leg hung off the edge, the tips of her toes touching the soft carpet. Adrenaline shook her spine as his palms clapped on the inside of her thighs.

“Don’t you fucking close your legs,” he said softly, fingers digging into her skin. The sharp stinging on her left thigh left her as he slid his index and middle finger between her legs, tracing her panty lines. “Peach printed panties? I like that.”

With his lips and nose pressed against her clothed heat, he hummed against her core.

“Jaehyun!”

His hot breath warmed up her folds. The vibrations of his voice shook her insides, shocking her nerves. She propped herself up by pushing her elbows against the cushions, wanting a better view. Eyebrows furrowed, he pressed his nose harder against her folds. He inhaled deeply, sending fire up to her head as her whole body lit up in discomfort.

“Dirty perv,” she breathed out, trying to sit up. Left hand resting against the couch, her right pushed against his shoulder. Inhaling sharply, she winced as he grabbed her wrists, her skin stinging.

“You smell ripe,” he said, moving away from her pussy. Immediately, he pressed his mouth against her core again, humming low, loud and long. His hands kept her wrists resting against the side of her thighs. Hips shaking, heat flooding her head, she could only pull against his hold, focusing on the sweet pain of his grip on her wrists.

“Jaehyun!” Hot tears pooled her eyes, her body burning up. He chuckled into her, his vocal cords turning her on. She arched her back. His lips captured her clothed folds as he planted kisses against her core.

He shifted them around so that she was sitting up on the couch, her legs spread open. He released her arms, fingers immediately hooking onto the waistband of her panties. She wiggled her hips, fingers tugging against his pull. Their eyes met.

“Can you get my panties off?” She licked her lips before pouting. “I won’t make it easy for you…daddy?”

His smile was sweet, his softened gaze drifting down and then up her body slowly. Her back shook as adrenaline rushed through her when their eyes locked.

“Daddy’s for another day. I like you screaming my name, slut.”

“Perv.”

She sniveled, bucking her hips against him as his fingers fisted around the sides of her panties. He grunted as she wiggled her hips, trying to jerk away from his pull, her knees knocking against his shoulders and chest. Hooking his fingers at the waistband on the left side of her hip, he yanked down.

“You’re ruining my lucky panties!”

Jaehyun’s hold on her loosened, lifting his head to look up at her. His lips thinned as the right side his of mouth curved up into a smile, teasing her. Releasing the side of her panties, his index finger glided down to her pelvis, tucking under her panty line as it moved further down her crotch.

“You’re such a dirty perv.” She exhaled loudly, hands trying to grab his wrist. Her fingers stung as he swatted her hands away with the flick of his long fingers.

“I’m not taking your panties off, slut.”

Heat rushed up her back as the pad of his finger pushed against the hood of her clit. Her fists were at her sides as she fought the urge to grab his wrist and shove his hand away. She liked making things hard for him, but she also wanted more of his insatiable touch.

“Look at that sweet pussy getting wet,” he said softly, finger pulling the front of her panties aside. Thumb pressing against her clit, he looked up at her. “Do you like this?”

“Yes, Jaehyun.” She bucked her hips against the push of his thumb. She took a deep inhale as he circled the pad of his thumb furiously against her clit, her insides turning hot. “Jaehyun!”

His touch was gone. Fingers hooked at her hips. He tugged her panties down. She squealed. As she tried reaching for her panties, he tugged them down to her knees before gliding them down her calves and tossing them aside.

Hands under her knees, he pulled her legs wide open, lips kissing the inside of her right thigh. His tongue glided up toward her pelvis before he kissed the inside of her other thigh. She grabbed his hair as his mouth hovered over her slit, tugging his head back.

He groaned, pulling away from her, hands grabbing her wrist. He had the both of them stand before he sat down on the couch, forcing her to lay face down on his lap, positioning her ass against his hand. He palmed the inside of her thigh before moving up to massage her ass.

“Naughty slut.”

Thwack! Thwack!

She shut her eyes as she felt two sharp slaps on her thighs, right below the curves of her ass. The backside of her left thigh flared before her right burned. Her insides shook, making her wetter.

“Think I won’t punish you?”

“Jaehyun!”

His palm slammed against the curve of her left ass cheek. Giving her only two seconds to savor the deep vibrations of the impact, he punished her again. Continually, without a break, he smacked her ass with his massive palm. She yelped, stuttering out his name. Her skin flared up, ready to burst into flames with every impact of his palm on her ass.

“Had enough?” he asked, his voice gentle, flat. She’d lost track of time but her ass felt hot enough to light a cigarette for Jaehyun. Another hard impact hit her stinging skin, making her back arch. “You keep making things hard for me, I’ll throw you down and smack your ass until you can’t sit.”

“Yes, Jaehyun.” She sniffled. His job was to carry people out of buildings during emergencies, she was outmatched.

He grabbed her by her waist, shifting to get off the couch. She yelped with a laugh, feeling her body swing over his shoulder. Grasping the back of his shirt, she tried to push herself up to get out of his hold, but his arm hooked over her waist was steadfast.

Thwack!

Her ass cheek burned and she shut her eyes, savoring the deep vibrations inside. Her head was feeling heavy and she couldn’t tell if her ass was in the air or if he was shifting her upwards. Her mind floated and spun in the air, delaying the pain of Jaehyun throwing her onto her bed. He was pulling her unhooked bra off her shoulders when she hissed at the throbbing sting on her left ass cheek being pressed against the mattress.

“Jaehyun,” she exhaled into the air. His lips were sucking on her nipple, left hand teasing her right breast. The weight of his body over hers made her vibrate from head to toe, his touches tingling her skin.

He planted kisses on her cleavage with his tongue gliding out to taste her skin, making her chest glow. His fingers drew circles down her sides, massaging her hips as his wet kisses landed on the bottom curve of her breasts. When he kissed the underside of her left breast, he licked it before sucking on her skin.

Hands shooting to his head, she entangled her fingers into his damp, silky hair. Her skin was becoming so sensitive, everything Jaehyun did was lighting her whole body up. His teeth tugged at her skin before he sucked hard on it, raking his teeth over the bruise he’d created when he finished marking her. Heat rushed up to her head, tingling her temples.

His kisses traveled down her front, his tongue flicking and pushing into her belly button as the tips of his fingers glided over her thighs. Hooking his hands under her knees, he spread her legs open with his tongue sliding down her stomach. Her muscles felt weak, her thoughts lost in a sea of booze-filled heat. His fingers grazed over the inside of her thighs before a middle finger slid down her slit. He pushed the tip against her entrance, sinking into her folds.

“Naughty slut, you’re so wet.” His voice was barely above a whisper, sending chills across her chest.

He glided his finger up against her slit, pushing against her folds. Eyes still shut, she focused on the heat he created when he slid two fingers up along her slit. Pressing the pads of his fingers against her clitoris, he kissed the inside of her thigh.

“Jaehyun.”

She took in a deep inhale as he began to suck and bite her delicate, barely touched (barely seen) skin. Arms feeling heavy, she released his hair to touch her breasts, her fingers pinching her nipples. He licked the throbbing spot he’d assaulted as he captured her clit between his index and middle fingers.

“Jaehyun!”

She tugged her nipples as he tugged on her clit, sending a sharp jolt into her core. Squeezing her clit between his fingers, shifting them in a scissoring motion, he chuckled. She was panting heavily, bucking her hips against him. Her whole body was on fire.

“You’re so fucking sexy.” He released her clit, stroking the pads of his fingers down her slit. Mouth open, she inhaled deeply as he pushed one finger into her cunt. He pulled out before reentering with two digits, pushing in deeper, making her arch her back as his touch stung like a needle pushing into her skin. “You like it hard like this?” Chest shaking, she exhaled through her mouth. Her hands shot up over her head to grab a pillow. Fingers fisting tightly into the fluffy pillow, she moaned.

“Jaehyun!” His fingers were pushing in and out fast, the sharp heat still hot but the pain twisting into the sweetest ripple of pleasure that rode up her body. “Yes! Jaehyun!”

“Such a slut,” he said softly as his fingers were deep inside of her, rutting furiously like a jackhammer in very shallow motions. “You’d still want me to fuck you until I break your back if I make you come right now. Is that right, slut?”

“Yes, Jaehyun,” she panted, her lower abdomen flaring up and shaking. “I’m your slut.”

His hands were gone, her slick heat gliding down toward her ass and thighs. Breathing heavily, she took a moment to recover, having been so close to her orgasm. Opening her eyes, she saw him getting off the bed.

He opened the drawer to her nightstand, and she sat up. The hallway light shone a warm glow from the open door. It made the shadow of his figure hover over her, sending prickling heat down her chest to the tips of her hard, aching nipples. He was naked except for his frayed black NCTFD shirt clinging to his body.

“Let me help,” she said, crawling over to the edge of the bed. As she took the condom out of the silver packet, Jaehyun sat down beside her. “How’d you know I have condoms in there?” “Lucky guess.” His hand palmed her breast, sending heat into her. She took hold of his cock, and carefully unrolled the translucent rubber over his cock. “Your panties are lucky.”

“This,” she touched the thickness below his mushroomed tip, fingers encircling around the wide length, “is new to me.” She glided her hold down the subtle curve that happened after about an inch, the rest of his cock’s girth less intimidating. “Even your cock is special.”

He planted a kiss on her neck, fingers caressing soft touches down her back. Their lips met, and she felt a warm surge rise in her chest. He broke the kiss when she pushed her tongue against his lips.

“Get on your hands and knees, slut.”

He stood on his knees on the bed and she turned around to face the headboard, widening her legs as she planted her hands onto the mattress, shoving the pillows aside. His palm pushed down her slit, spreading her slick fluids around. She gave a soft moan as his tip pushed against her entrance. His hips shook as his hands massaged her.

“Jaehyun.” As he pushed more of his girthy inch into her, she bent low, grabbing the metal bars of her headboard. Her fingers stung as they tightened around the smooth metal, his push heavy and sharp. “Fuck me, fuck me, Jaehyun.”

He grunted as he pulled back. They moaned together as he thrust forward. The strong hold on her hips made her muscles ache as he pulled her against him.

“Who’s fucking you, slut?” Her scalp and neck burned as he grabbed her hair, his hold tight. One hand on her hip, he began pushing long hard strokes into her, continually tugging her head back with every push in. “Who’s fucking you, slut?”

“Jj-Jaehyun!” He was deep inside and he began rutting faster, his thick inch sending a new stinging sensation into her, making her think of nothing but Jaehyun. He gave a low grunt as his hand at her head pushed her head down onto the mattress, his pace continuing to build. “Jae-Jaehyun!”

Her scalp throbbed in sweet relief when he released her hair. She hummed low when his palm pushed down on the back of her neck, keeping her head and shoulders planted against the mattress. A stinging heat radiated up her back as his thigh continually slapped against her ass cheeks, burning up her bruised left ass cheek. The building, heavy heat between her legs brought her close to her orgasm.

“Turn around.” He was gone, her insides shaking as Jaehyun withdrew from her. Letting go of the headboard, she gently laid down on the bed and turned around to rest her back on the mattress. Fingers encircling around her ankles, he spread her legs apart as he continued to stand on his knees. “You’re beautiful.”

His eyes were heavily hooded as looked down at her. Fingers stroking up her left calf, he dropped her leg onto the mattress. His fingers continued toward the inside of her thighs. Adrenaline coursed through her body, making her back shake as his fingers circled the bruises his mouth created. He shifted so that his cock lined up against her slit, free hand grabbing his cock to slide his tip back and forth against her clit.

“Jaehyun,” she breathed out, mind filled with fire, her hands reached out to grab the front of his shirt, “I want you-”

He grunted as he pushed into her, cutting her off. She hiccupped as she arched her back, fingers grasping onto his shirt, the pressure of his cock making the world spin. His grip on her ankle tightened, her skin stinging. He bent over her, cock driving in deeper, her world spinning faster as his hand grabbed the front of her throat.

“Your shirt,” she breathed out before his grip tightened, “take-off.”

Chuckling, he pushed down against her throat a little harder before his cock pushed in deeper. Tears leaked out and she quickly blinked them away as her hands released his shirt to stroke his abs. His skin was smooth, and his abs were firm.

“You can only touch my shirt,” he said calmly, softly, the pads of his fingers digging into the sides of her neck, the pressure building. He pushed in deeper with a gentle thrust. “Do you hear me, slut? Hands on my shirt.”

She grabbed the front of his shirt at his stomach, bundling the stretchy fabric into her fists. He groaned as he began a slow rhythm, seeming to savor how the thickest part of his cock stretched her insides, pushing back in every time his thick inch was barely out of her entrance. A smile slowly appeared as his eyes squinted. He licked his lips as he picked up his pace, the hold at her throat loosening as his fingers caressed down her neck.

“Maybe later I’ll let your greedy hands touch me everywhere. Maybe.”

Her hands reached for his shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss. Her leg fell down onto the mattress as he grabbed her wrists. Pinning them over her head, his tongue flicked and swirled around her mouth before capturing her lips into soft, wet kisses. Their lips remained locked as he rutted fast into her, his fingers digging deep into the skin of her forearms.

Her left hand was freed, and she moaned against his lips as his thumb found her clit, flicking it before pushing hard against it. His rotations on her clit had her lower abdomen flaring up, and she wrapped her free arm around his neck to keep his lips pressed against hers. Her tongue swirling around his, she gave a soft cry as she came.

He continued fucking her, thumb still teasing her clit, with her legs squeezing his hips. As her pussy walls clenched and unclenched around his cock, he slowed his pace, breaking the kiss. He grunted into the crook of her neck as he gave a handful of hard, fast pushes into her, his cock flaring up her insides with its heat.

Her temples were throbbing angrily as he withdrew from her. He breathed heavily, releasing his hold on her. She turned onto her side, watching Jaehyun get off the bed. Heat prickled her cheeks as she watched him remove the condom, tendrils falling over his forehead as he glanced around her room. His skin glistened with sweat, his face glowing with the warm hallway light. Once he discarded the condom into the small trash bin beside her night stand, he got into bed with her.

Frustrated, but tired, she ran her hand over the bold white NCTFD letterings across his chest as he pulled her front to his side, tucking his arm under her body. Her hand drifted down and patted his stomach as she looked up at him, resting her head on his shoulder. She shut her eyes, inhaling his smoky musk.

-- Song Rec: “Cruisin” - Smokey Robinson: 🍑

* It was the sounds of birds chirping that woke her. She threw her comforter over her head, groaning as her eyelids felt the sunlight in the room. Her mind began running when she heard music playing. The funky bass plucking, gentle guitar rhythm and soft steady drumming started Smokey Robinson’s “Cruisin” filled the room, making her pull the comforter away as she opened her eyes.

As the groovy, sweet song continued, she sat up, seeing Jaehyun standing beside the window behind her nightstand, lit cigarette in his hand. He was nude, resting his shoulder against the wall as he blew smoke out of the open window. His milky skin cascaded with sunshine had him glowing.

He looked deep in thought as he brought the cigarette up to his lips, his cheeks hollowing as he took a drag. His lips were flushed, almost as red as blood as he blew out a thick cloud of smoke. She slipped out of bed, and bent down to pick up his NCTFD shirt from the floor. Putting it on, she inhaled deeply, appreciating that she was enveloped by his smoky earthy scent.

“Are you teasing me?” she asked, walking over to him. He held his hand out to her, which she took immediately to be by his side.

“Sorry I’m not oiled up,” he said as she ran her free hand over his shoulders. She drew small circles over his collar bone with the pads of her thumbs, her hands slowly drifting down.

His skin was soft and silky, but as she pushed her pads against him his body was very firm, like touching a warm boulder. The curves of his abs under her fingertips turned her on, sending heat into her core. She licked her lips as her index finger touched the line at his hip, his perfect inguinal crease, following it in toward his pubes. He hummed, goosebumps forming on his skin.

“I meant the song.” She placed both hands on his hips, eyes focused on his cock. It was twitching, hardening up. “Johnny and Mark were terrible at hiding their laughs when we sang this song at karaoke.”

“Is that why you get weird whenever I bring up that night?” He laughed, touching her cheek with his free hand. “Johnny and Mark were laughing at me, not at you.”

“You’re the one with the good voice. Why would they laugh at you?”

He stared at her, raising his eyebrows for a second as the tips of his ears flushed. Smokey Robinson was crooning away as she felt her heart beating fast, her face turning hot. He looked away as he snuffed out the cigarette. Jaehyun had selected the song, saying he thought of her whenever he listened to the song.

“...Baby, tonight belongs to us Everything’s right, do what you must and inch and inch we get closer and closer To every little part of each other…”

“Jaehyun,” she said, hand touching his cheek. The heat from his cheek warmed her hand, shooting straight to her chest.

“I really like you,” he said as they locked eyes, their foreheads touching, “if it isn’t obvious by now, you freaking brat.”

“I like you so much,” she said softly, running the pad of her thumb down his jawline, her head fuzzy, Smokey Robinson’s breathy crooning consuming her senses, “I had to be sure you liked me too.”

They kissed, the tobacco from Jaehyun’s breath infiltrating her mouth and nose. Her fingers slid down his front, caressing over the curves of his chest and abs. Their tongues pushed against each other, his tongue swiping her bottom lip as she ran her fingers through his pubes. He hummed into her mouth as her fingers stroked his cock before wrapping it in her hand. It was growing hot and hard fast. Jaehyun’s breathing was erratic as he cupped her face in his hands, pulling away from her kisses.

“Fuck, I’m going to come,” he panted. His chest heaved, hips thrusting, as he groaned.

She dropped down to her knees, left hand stroking the bottom of his shaft. Sticking her tongue out, she flicked it against his tip. It flushed red as it warmed up against her lips. She wrapped her mouth around his mushroomed head, making him moan as his come shot into her mouth.

She pumped his cock as he shook gently, his back pressed against the wall, one hand running through her hair. Swallowing, she inhaled the scent of his musky, salty come. Carefully, she kissed and licked his cock clean, eyes closing for a moment as his fingers massaged her scalp. Her tongue swirled around his soft head before planting a sweet, wet kiss onto it.

Their fingers intertwined as he helped her stand up. She shut her eyes as she felt his lips on her neck, hands reaching under the shirt. She hummed as he sucked on her neck, his fingers caressing her sides.

“I did a number on you,” he said, holding her forearm up in his hold, titing his head slightly. Long blue and purple marks were where he’d held her arms down. “I’m sorry, baby.”

His touch on her neck was delicate before peppering kisses over her bruises. He took a step back, and ran his fingers along the inside of her thigh. She winced, her skin stinging at his touch. She cupped his face into her hands to give him a wet kiss.

“That’s the sort of sex I like,” she said, her thumb and index finger massaging his earlobe. “What sort of sex do you like, Jaehyun? Show me.”

He laid her down on the bed, hands on her thighs as he placed himself between her legs. His hands massaged her as they moved up from her thighs to her hips. He licked his lips, eyes focused on her breasts as he lifted the shirt up. Giving a dry exhale as he pinched her nipples, she arched her back, heat rushing down to her clit. He flicked her nipple with his tongue before wrapping his mouth around it to suck on it, sending heat right to her core.

“Jaehyun,” she breathed out.

“Am I too soft?” he asked, fingers digging under the shirt.

“Shirt stays on,” she said, her hands on his wrists. She kept the fabric of the shirt hiked up at her neck, keeping her body exposed. “Be as soft as you want. I like everything you do.”

He grinned, sitting up on his knees as he got off of her. He turned, reaching behind him. She propped herself up to watch him tearing open a condom packet. His cock looked just as impressive in the daylight, and she felt her clit throb in anticipation. She'd taken it just hours before.

“Ready, baby?” he asked, massaging the inside of her thigh, running his thumb over the bruises his hands and mouth created the night before. He hissed as he rubbed the tip of his cock against her clit. “Does this feel good?” “Yes.” She thrust gently against his tip, enjoying the heat shooting deep inside. “Jaehyun, yes.”

“My two favorite words.”

She shut her eyes as he pushed his tip into her. His body was over hers, and they kissed, his heat enveloping her. One of his arms wrapped around her waist as he thrust deep into her, his other hand caressing her breast. Their tongues were entangled as she hooked her feet together around his waist, making sure she had Jaehyun locked in her embrace.

He broke their kiss to suck on her tits, and she moaned as she grabbed his hair, thinking of nothing but Jaehyun’s lovely touches. His tongue glided over the bruise on the underside of her breast before he planted wet kisses on there. As he sped up his thrusts, she squeezed her thighs around his hips, digging the heel of her foot into his back. She came as the heat building inside of her rushed up to her head and clit.

Their lips connected as he continued rutting into her. Toes curling as she squeezed her walls around his cock, her orgasm surged adrenaline up her back, her stomach flaring in heat. He grunted against her lips as his fingers at her waist curled into her skin, his hips shaking as he stilled deep into her. Breaking their kiss, he grunted as he gave a few pushes, both hands on her hips.

Spent, they laid down in bed, breathing heavily as “Cruisin” played on continually. She shut her eyes as she heard Jaehyun move around, cleaning up. Exhaling long and slow when she felt him spoon her, she ran her fingers over the arm holding her back to his chest.

“How was that?” he asked softly into her ear before his lips wet her neck. “Did that feel good?” His hand caressed her hip, lips back on neck. “Do you like it when I’m soft?”

She had him let her go so she could turn around to face him. He rubbed his nose against her cheek before running it down her neck to plant a kiss at the front of her throat. Gently combing her fingers through his hair, she rested her forehead against his.

“I love it.” She kissed him. “I love everything you do, Jaehyun. Soft or hard, you care so much for me. I want to lay here with you. You do everything right, and you’re always so worried that you’re not. I like that you care a lot.”

He smiled, his eyes closed for a few moments. Slowly opening them, he brushed her loose tendrils over her ear.

“Why are you so…” He kissed her, their lips innocently pressed together for a couple seconds, “you’re amazing.” He planted a kiss on her cheek. “You care about me, and you don’t even have to say it. Obviously, you’re the sexiest person alive, too.” Another kiss, the apples of her cheeks turning hot. “So fucking kinky, baby. I had no idea.” Another kiss, one hand caressing her hip. “It’s fun to fuck around with you, you’re always down to fuck around with me too.”

He wrapped his arms around her back and blew raspberries onto her chest.

“Jaehyun!” She squealed, hands grabbing his hair, as she felt his fingers pinch her bruised ass cheek.

“Beautiful baby,” he said before planting a kiss on her shoulder, “I want to care for you, make you happy.”

“Jaehyun.” All she could do was breathe out sweetly, her mind flooded with the heat from his lips on her skin. Night or day, hard or soft, he was everything she wanted. “Jaehyun.”

“Let me kiss all your bruises,” he said, hand palming her ass, sending a pain so sharp it seared up her back. She grunted as she pulled his face to hers. “You deserve to be taken care of. Will you let me adore you?”

“Jaehyun.” She laughed before pulling him for a kiss. “Yes.”

Thank you so much for reading!!!

#neohub #nct smut #nct #jaehyun smut #jaehyun fic #nct fanfic #nct au #nct jaehyun #requested #nct fic #jaehyun fluff #nct 127 #nct 127 fic #nct 127 smut #nct 127 jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x you

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whirlybirbs · 3 years ago

Text

FEVER-DREAM ; echo/reader

summary: echo is fine-tuning his new prosthesis. you have experience, you help. unspoken feelings are acted on. adoration blooms. you learn what mesh’la means.

word count: 3k

pairing: echo / f!reader

tags: mutual pining, lots of tender looks, victorian-era hand-touching sluttiness, echo is a gentle soul, reader is head over heels, a touch of ptsd mention, set on ord mantell, mention of our boy fives, in this house we love assistive devices, enough sexual tension to power the death star

a/n: this is me round-house kicking the bad batch writers in the throat because they made echo cosplay a droid — but, also because this man deserves to be treated as more than a means to a mission’s end. majority of you know i am ~bitter~ (understatement of the century) of tbb’s plot/design/writing. but echo has been a favorite from the original days... so have some very soft fic.

i reference character redesigns by @nibeul in this piece — please go peep them here, and some updated character spreads here! they’re really beautiful and add a phenomenal layer of storytelling to the existing designs that’s lacking. nibuel’s art and writing is lovely. please give them a follow — i can’t rec their work enough.

“How does it feel?”

The words are nearly whispered; it’s clear you didn’t want to startle him, and Echo can feel the pinch in his brow soften at your sudden appearence in the doorway.

His bunk, at the back of the Havoc Marauder, is small — the space itself even more so. There’s a makeshift partition, hooked together with spare parts and meant to offer a bit of privacy on the cramped vessel. Its slate grey color has faded, and the edges have become tattered in the cycles of use.

When Echo pulls his dark eyes up from his work, you’re leaning against the frame — your expression is earnest.

For a moment, the once-ARC Trooper is quiet.

He wonders if he’ll ever get used to your attention. Each and every time, it sends him into a spiral; his heart catches as he inhales and tries to push down the warm stir in his gut. The sight of you is enough, nowadays, to melt Echo’s well-maintained irritability. His attention is stolen from his ever-present pain, if only for a bit.

There are plenty of days where he misses the old him — the wide-eyed, eager ARC Trooper who had his brothers by his side. His real brothers. Hevy, Cutup, Droidbait... Fives.

Fuckin’ hell, Fives was probably staring down at him now laughing.

No matter what changes, you’re still shit with the ladies, vod’ika.

In a way he hasn’t fully admitted to himself, you make him feel like himself again. Like... Like some shiny cadet, on leave and distracted by the promises of pretty smiles passing-by. It’s good.

This makes him feel... good.

He flexes, and his right hand — the new, gunmetal durasteel cyberized-prosthesis — closes into a tight fist. It’s taken him a bit, but the feeling isn’t so foreign now. It’s still... slow. Slower than he’s used to, but you’d mentioned it may take some time. The phantom feelings get better, too. All in all, it’s a good thing.

Your own hand, your left, glimmers back in the same gunmetal color.

(Echo had never pressed you about the missing limb — not until one day, in Cid’s, you’d joined him in a quiet corner. You’d spilled your drink and a complaint about getting the star-cherry syrup out of the joints had slipped out. Echo had laughed; a real laugh, the sort that was so rare coming from him, it had you staring at him as if he’d hung ever star in the sky.

Can I ask how it happened? he’d said, breaking the heavy silence when your eyes never left his.

The Pykes, you’d said, and that was enough.)

“I haven’t, uh... Haven’t gotten the sensory calibration right yet.”

Then, his prosthesis cramps. His fingers go rigid, and Echo curses sharply as he reaches around his forearm to quickly reboot the appendage. It goes slack, then hums alive once more.

You wince.

You’re slow to move into the room — and you settle atop one of the crates Echo had stolen from the belly of the ship, an old Mantell Mix shipping container. You’re mindful to set his datapad aside, to not disturb his space too much. Before you reach for his hand, however, you lift your chin and open your hands in your lap.

“May I?” you ask, just as soft as before.

Echo feels small under your gaze.

Truth be told, you’re doing more than just... asking. You’re taking him in — appreciating him. It’s a habit that’s grown more and more apparent to not only himself, but the others.

In recent rotations, Echo has let his hair grow out — not long, but the once close buzz he’d kept has begun to curl at the top. Not entirely dissimilair to how it was before the Citadel. The dermal implants, the ones the Techno Union installed in order to parse the nuerological data in his head, stand out against his warm-colored skin.

His usual AJ^6-inspired headpiece is resting on his bunk.

That damn thing.

A neccesary tool. One that, given the amount of user data Tech had procured when working on modifying the implant, Echo found himself immediately distrusting. It wasn’t as if the AJ^6 cyborg construct had a beautiful track record, and frankly, Echo would like to keep his personality in tact, thank you very much. There were plenty of days he felt machine enough.

It wasn’t often you saw him without the headset; you knew it made linking in via his scomp easier to handle, it made the visualization of data transfers as easy as breathing. For Echo, it was a part of his vast kit, an important tool. For you, seeing him without it bubbles up a bit of a smile.

Echo catches it.

His eyes narrow playfully.

He looks... well. You — hell, are there words for it? For the way the sight of him makes you feel? It’s like there’s a world full of potential there, a thousand words unsaid, and feelings that have steeped in the warmth of longing gazes and half-there touches.

You’re still looking up at him, knees bent on the crate.

You blink, realizing you’ve been caught staring — not for the first time and certainly not for the last. In the beginning, it had left a sour taste in Echo’s mouth. But, now... Well, it stokes a sort of pride in his chest that he hangs onto.

It never gets easier to recover from — certainly not when Echo smirks. He moves to allow you to take his prosthesis into your lap. The gesture is gentle; your fingers cradle the firm yet pliable metal.

“What?” he asks. His voice, low and rough and warm, is tinted with amusement.

“Nothing,” you say vaguely with a shrug — as if that’s supposed to explain any part of your enamored stare. Your attention moves to the prosthesis.

“Nothing?” he asks, moving to thumb his left ear with his free hand with a dash of nervousness. A habit. Echo tilts his head as his fingers brush the cochlear implant there. The panel rests neatly against the side of his head, a small rounded-off square. The bite of self-consciousness has dwindled around you — but still, it creeps back up every now and again.

The Corporal’s brows knot playfully as you turn his new hand over in your lap; you’re admiring the upgraded feel, the more seamless panelling in comparison to your own. Echo watches your lashes flutter in silent thought.

Then:

“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

You blink slowly at the hand, swallow down your sudden sheepishness and ignore his gaze. You bite back the smile digging into your cheeks. “Maybe.”

“Do I have something on my face?” he asks suddenly, and you look up.

A baited trick. He’s smiling.

The warm sort — the sort reserved for you and for Omega. The two souls that hold a piece of his heart, with all its ticking valves and electric timed pulses. There are machinisms that keep him alive, and then there is you. Your wide-eyed expression melts, giving way to the sort of smile he’s tried to memorize over and over. It’s the same smile that has warded off that reoccuring nightmare of the night on the tarmac at the Citadel, the same smile that has pulled him through the grit of phantom pains.

“What—” a sudden laugh bursts from your chest, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You were staring, mesh’la,” he rumbles out as a reminder, enjoying the fact he’s suddenly become the center of your attention. Echo leans back, his boot toeing yours. You nudge it back. Your face feels hot. You ignore his pointedly teasing look with a roll of your eyes.

The nickname started a few weeks ago. You haven’t asked what it means — no, for now it’s meaning hangs in the balance. Untouched but there. The affection the word carries makes your heart feel heavier and unbelievably full.

“Bad habit,” you chirp back, looking up at him through your lashes.

His laugh is warm.

“Maybe not.”

“No,” you say quietly; your voice is soft as your eyes bounce across his face, tracing the lines of his face with your gaze, “I don’t think it is.”

There’s a silence that slips between you — a comfortable one. It’s heavier than before. That has begun to happen recently, especially with the petal-soft utterance of mesh’la becoming more and more frequent. You hold his gaze. Echo lets out a soft, contented sigh.

Then, you remember the task at hand.

You clear your throat.

“Uh... The access panel I’m looking for,” you say slowly as your raise your finger to point to your own arm, “It’s on your bicep.”

Echo blinks. He clears his own throat before looking down — he hadn’t even noticed that access panel. That could explain the jarring miscommunication stalling the limb. This model had more bells and whistles than he initally realized.

Better than a fuckin’ scomp link, that’s for sure.

Wordlessly, Echo makes room on his bunk. You move to settle beside him, your bent leg resting aginst his hip as you half-straddle the bed; your other knee brushes his thigh — and Echo tries to sit still. You’re close, now.

“Is it okay if...?” you trail off, fingers tugging on the short sleeve of his blacks; you pause until Echo offers a curt nod. You catch him swallow. You push onward, fingers nimbly rolling the fabric up over his broad bicep.

Echo steals a glance your way as your fingers pass across a slip of his bare skin.

In his lap, both his hands twitch.

He’s no small man. Lean and athletic, Echo is built like a soldier. Omega had said once that Echo was an ARC Trooper, one of the best of the best. You believed every bit of it, and you’d hung on her words when she’d rambled on about ARC training, about Kamino, and about who Echo was before you knew him. It was all in the past, though. That Echo is a part of this Echo but... They’re different men. He’s been changed by the things that have happened.

You don’t press him on the details.

In time, they’re slipped into conversation here and there — between the here and now.

In the beginning, when you’d found yourself amongst the crew of the Havoc Marauder — be it for a simple job on Cid’s behalf — Echo had hardly paid you a moment of attention, though you admit you’d been curious from the start. It had taken three jobs for you to finally see his face. Then began the slow and gradual bonding over catching joints, grating plates, and hardware updates. His legs, your arm. Two pieces of a pair.

Now, he has this. A beautiful new upgrade — something he’s wanted for a long time. A part of his old self is back, in a way.

You liked that it was more than just a tool. That, in having this piece of his body back, he felt like more than a tool. More than a scomp link.

After all, he is a man — a... a very handsome man. One whose proximity is sort of distracting you, again, from the task at hand.

“The panel here,” you say as you slowly press on the seam that enables the settings panel to be revealed; you’re mindful to explain, “It controls sensory outputs, as well as synchonized synaptic commands. The panel on my forearm does the same to my hand, yours is just... well, you’ve got the new and improve version.”

Echo ducks his head as you work, watching you from the corner of his eye. “Feeling a bit jealous, mesh’la?”

“Maybe,” you breathe out with a smile.

Then, you lift your eyes. You intended to see that he was still comfortable, but instead you come face to face with the Corporal. His nose nearly brushes yours when you lift you chin, completely dragged in by the closeness shared.

There’s a beat of tension. Echo’s mouth goes dry.

You fingers pause. You swallow hard. “How... uh, how does it feel?”

Echo tightens his grip, then releases. His breath tickles your cheeks. His eyes, a deep, warm brown, flit from your eyes to your mouth, and then back. His voice is a croak.

“...Same as before.”

You tinker with a dial, eyes never leaving his; your voice is above a whisper. “And now?”

It’s immediate. Like a rush of cold air up his arm — and on instinct, Echo’s hand twitches. His fingers grip the fabric of his blacks, along his thigh, and... he feels it. The smooth, stretch of the material. It’s... it feels like a lot. His fingertips, metallic and cyberized, tingle. It’s distracting.

He can feel.

His hand is slow. It moves across to bridge the space between you. His pointer finger settles on the curve of your knee; the feeling of your tactical pants beneath his fingertip is ignored, instead he chases the heat of your body.

Your breath catches at the touch.

Echo’s face is turned to you, but... his attention has settled on his hand. His palm then sweeps across your thigh. He follows the curve, soaks in the feeling. You’re frozen in place, beating back the desperate sound of appreciation that threatens to be pulled from your throat. The touch is... more than welcomed.

The closeness itself is making you dizzy.

Then, Echo turns — and the warm, durasteel-plated palm finds your cheek.

Your skin is hot.

“Is this okay, mesh’la?” he whispers, words riding on a quiet exhale — the sort that make you feel... well, you don’t even have words for the way he makes you feel. Echo is... kind, honest, and loyal. Above all else, he’s gentle. Despite it all, despite every bit of horror he’d been put through, he’d never lost sight of the importance of a gentle hand. Especially now in a moment as intimate as this. It coaxes you closer.

You lean into the cybernetic attachment, cheek resting in his palm. You nod, then, with eyes eager to take in every bit of this moment.

He chuckles at the enthusiasm. Echo’s thumb, deft and smooth, then traces the line of your lower lip.

The feeling is... the gnawing pain that he’s felt for nearly a year has melted. Finally, the itch has been scratched in his brain and the hollow ache of his bones is gone. It’s relief, and comfort, and excitement and all these beautiful things — and you.

You’re stuck — you don’t want to move, you won’t move. He’s rooted you completely, and when his other hand — the calloused and warm one of flesh and blood — finds it’s spot along your thigh, you swallow a lovesick sigh that would only exaserbate your desperation.

Your mouth is moving before you realize it.

“What does it mean?”

Echo’s eyes narrow, only a bit, and he runs his thumb up your cheekbone.

“What does what mean?”

“Mesh’la,” it sounds foreign on your tongue. It’s not Hutteese or Twi’leki, not like any language you know, “Will you tell me what it means, Echo?”

The corner of his lips quirk. Your eyes jump to it.

You feel like someone’s reached right into your chest and given your heart a squeeze — and it only worsens when he laughs. He laughs, deep and quiet and warm, like a thunderstorm on a summer night. It feels cruel, to string you along like this when you’re here, lips parted, hanging off his every touch and his every word.

“Beautiful,” he says quietly as his other hand touches your jaw — it’s so damn reverent, this little moment in time, that you almost don’t believe it’s real.

It feels like a dream — like someone has come in and stolen your thoughts from you; like the unrequited yearning has finally stoked a fire large enough to burn you up entirely, a fever you never knew you wanted.

His nose brushes yours.

Your fingers wind into the fabric of his chest. You’re clinging, lost to the moment — and you can’t help wonder if this is how it feels when he catches you adoring him. He’s admiring you so tenderly that you nearly break.

You want to kiss him.

He’s thought about nothing but kissing you for the last five days at least. Longer in his dreams. Nowadays, it’s a constant pull, a constant want.

And now, it’s here — a present and current moment where it can happen. Where he can stop being a shiny cadet and he can make a move...

Enter Omega.

“Echo, we’re back—!”

The telltale hammer of a girl’s boots on the floor signals that the party is back from their supply run — but you’re so far off, spinning in a different universe, you don’t even hear her until its too late... Until Echo is yanking himself away and clearing his throat and rolling his wrist to test the prosthesis in a different way, a less intimate way.

You blink, then rattle yourself back to the present. Omega is in the doorway staring with a quizzical look. Clearly, your state does little to dissuade the assumptions she’s already making and you can see the gears turning in her head. The dark-haired girl then slowly grins.

“Hi.”

You swallow. “Hi, Omega.”

“...Whatcha guys doin’?”

Echo coughs. “Uh, just fine-tuning the new upgrade.”

“...Riiiiiight.”

You rub your cheeks and laugh — clearly forced and incredibly pained — as you stand up and nearly ram your head right into the top of Echo’s bunk. It’s met with a hiss of warning from the trooper as he jumps up to try and protect you from the impact.

“Well! Uh, thanks for letting me help, Echo,” you clap, rocking back and forth on your boots, “I, uh... Oh, Cid called. I should... I should get back—”

“Yea,” he says, straining a bit to find the words, “Yea, I’ll... I’ll comm you if it starts to, uh... If it starts to act up?”

Omega watches the exchange, big brown eyes moving from left to right.

“Good, great — yea, that’s,” you inhale as you rub your thighs and move towards the door, “Perfect. Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Bye!” Omega calls, waving.

You wave back, smiling. “Bye, Omega.”

Then, once it’s only Echo and Omega in the bunk, the tween speaks.

“...What the kriff was that?”

#HE IS A CORPORAL!!!!!#let echo say fuck #and omega #echo x reader #echo imagine #arc trooper echo x reader #echo/reader #echo/you #echo x you #tcw imagine #tbb imagine #sw imagine #the bad batch imagine #THANK YOU ANON WHO SENT ME THE UPDATED SPREADS #LOVE U ANGEL

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liyazaki · 2 years ago

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You angel. I'm sorry if my rec (sooner or later) added to your workload, I sent it as a y/n? What do you think? Most BB songs feel like VP songs. Casual emotional destruction and all that.

I do want to know what you think needs to happen for Pete to consider letting Vegas back in? What would satisfy you? Or is the whole thing too damned to hell?

don’t apologize; I did it to myself. I got way too many music asks to break down my thoughts on each one, so making little GIF + lyric ‘poems’ was just easier. plus, as a GIFFer (gross word), clearly I’m a ho for a visual. I enjoyed doing it 💖 (still far from done, actually, but it’s 3AM & that’s a ‘problem�� for tomorrow). couldn’t agree with you more about the BB song overlap- and oof, “casual emotional destruction”? poetic.

here’s the thing: for better or worse (and in this case, it’s really the worst), Vegas is already in. he’s beyond in, actually- he’s so far under Pete’s skin that he’s shattered him.

their connection is the kind that burns like a brand & leaves scars as proof it was there. Pete didn’t ask for this, but it’s here anyway. the most beautiful aspects of Pete- his unwavering compassion, his way of always, always seeing the good in people, despite every reason he has not to- opened the door that allowed Vegas in.

it’s no fault of Pete’s; it’s who he is- and can we really fault Vegas, either? he’s barely seen the depths of caring we know Pete is capable of within the extremely limited, charged context they’ve known each other in- and yet, that little sliver of hope has shaken the foundation of Vegas’s world. this is all new to him, and it’s got to feel like the emotional equivalent of a finding an oasis in the desert.

there’s no going back for either of them. this isn’t a typical relationship that functions in any kind of healthy way, so my usual answers wouldn’t apply here. in my opinion, it would take much more than one episode- all we have left, unless we get a S2- for their story to conclude in a healthy way.

which honestly, I’m OK with- because their story isn’t a healthy one. to borrow from another classic tragedy, “these violent delights have violent ends.” we aren’t attracted to these kind of romances because they make sense or are made to last- they can’t last.

speaking from personal experience, that kind of love often makes you forget you have agency to begin with. like a forest fire, it swallows you whole and you forget what life was like- what you were like- before it.

and just like a forest fire, we can’t look away, either. destruction can be gorgeous, and even feel like ecstasy- at first. many people would happily volunteer to go up in emotional flames if it meant they got to experience that deep of a mutual connection for themselves.

to get back to your original question: all it took was a couple sentences from Vegas to have Pete literally falling to his knees outside of that bar, reaching a hand out tenderly to stroke his face- the imprisonment, beatings and abuse be damned.

so for me, the question isn’t what Vegas would need to do for Pete to let him back in. it’s will he find a way to be worthy of him now that he so irrevocably is?

send me VP asks, song recs (no more please), etc.

#mor answers #kinnporsche #kinnporsche meta #kinnporsche analysis #vegaspete #vegaspete meta #good god- they really make me feel some kind of way #what about queue pete?

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ashdumpsterpile · 4 years ago

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ASH’S TMA HURT/COMFORT/FLUFF REC LIST

For the gays. (And @damcrows who’s been dead for the past 24 hours. Rest in peace babe. Read some gay fic. Deny the inevitability of canon. <3)

___

the end, but the start (of all things that are left to do) by @ajkal2

Jon wakes up.

aka. mag200 tore out my heart

(Very smol, very short, very spoiler. Def recommend for anyone who just finished the podcast.)

remind me how to smile by @tamerofdarkstars

Jon is probably fine, just hiding out somewhere while the whole murder thing blows over and that's... fine. Martin is fine with that explanation. Really. He's got plenty to distract himself - like listening through the entire What the Ghost episode library, for example. Or watching Georgie Barker's Instagram livestreams.

(Yea this was in the last rec list, but you don’t understand THE ADMIRAL GIVES CUDDLES)

Chamomile by Dribbledscribbles

Whatever the ex-tea was, if it really had ever been that last bag of chamomile Martin claimed he’d found tucked in the back of the cupboard, it was fast now.

Martin had tried catching it, chasing it, blocking its way with shoebox lids and plates and an upended footstool, but the thing was just too quick. Jon knew as well as Knew that he might have left off the attempts completely if not for the creature’s preferred game.

The game was, See How Many Times I Can Push Martin Towards Cardiac Arrest Before He Comes at Me with The Broom.

(Scottish Honeymoon Era. Adorable and weird. A vampire gets harassed.)

hey stranger by @ennuijpg

It’s a late night Tesco run, how eventful could it be? It’s not like Martin is going to run into his boss who’s wearing something absurdly different from usual and get the most acute form of whiplash possible from seeing him, right?

(Martin runs into Jon at the grocery store and has an existential crisis.)

roses roses, roses. by @judesstfrancis

Rose scented laundry detergent. Running into Jon in the breakroom. Running into Jon on his way back to his desk. Rose scented detergent. Running into Jon. Roses. Jon. Roses, roses, roses.

(Canon enemies to friends to lovers au-ish. Martin POV. Very pining much sweet.)

go softly by doomcountry

And there is nothing else besides this.

(More hurt/comfort than fluff. Scottish Honeymoon Era. Mild eye mutilation.)

Not Alone by @backofthebookshelf

After the coffin, Daisy and Jon are both fragile. They hold each other up.

(Post-buried Jon&Daisy starter pack. Very hurt/comfort.)

trust my love by antlsepticeye

“you… you’re real, aren’t you?” jon whispers, the fog slowly dissipating from his mind. “it is not a trick?”

“i’m here,” martin says softly, reaching up to grab jon’s hand that was resting on his cheek, intertwining his fingers with jon’s and squeezing. he moves jon’s hand to martin’s chest, resting it over his heart. “you’re alright. i’m alright. take your time, love. let’s just take some deep breaths, okay?”

(TOUCHSTARVED JON HAS ENTERED THE CHAT.)

reaching out by Athina_Blaine

By the time things settled, when Martin had finally managed to crack through his cold shell, feel some of his old self returning to him in bits and pieces, they had found their little routine.

One that had the two of them sleeping in the same bed, making breakfast, going to the mart. Where Jon reached for his wrist while they slept, and Martin luxuriated in the gentle warmth of his fingers.

But not one where Martin reached back. One that had Martin kissing Jon awake or taking his hand over the breakfast table, because ... Martin never had the courage to try. And then it never became a part of the routine.

And Martin desperately wanted it to be.

Martin and Jon have an important conversation.

(More Scottish Honeymoon Era for the soul. Hurt/comfort/fluff.)

Belabor by @janekfan

Jon's given the position of Archivist and is falling apart at the seams. Tim and Sasha are upset and playing games. Elias is overbearing and manipulative.

And poor Martin is stuck cleaning up the mess.

(THEE first fic I ever read for tma. Season 1, hurt/comfort/fluff, and hints of Jmartin. janekfan is the absolute master of seasons 1-3 hurt/comfort. This is my favorite, but pls check out the rest of their fics.)

tea, blankets, and a damnable stubborn attitude by ivelostmyspectacles

“Are you really gonna stay here and pester Jon all evening?”

“I’m not pestering him,” Martin retorted, sounding vehement if not busy going through the cupboards. “I’m heating up soup.”

“Oh, you might as well make him another cup of tea while you’re at it.”

“Oh, good idea.”

Jon shot Tim a withering look.

(The one where Jon is ill, Martin makes tea and they watch doctor who together. Fluff 1000%.)

A Kind Hand by @voiceless-terror

Jonathan Sims was adjusting just fine, thank you very much.

In which a minor workplace spill causes Jon to realize that he might have friends.

(Ah yes, the other master of seasons 1-3 fic aka voiceless-terror being my other fav author in the fandom. This one is also season 1 hurt/comfort/fluff.)

A Weather In The Flesh by @cuttoothed

"There is a span of years where Jon doesn’t touch anyone other than the occasional hand shake. It’s not so bad. He’s never been someone who’s needed physical affection."

Jon has never been any good at making people want to stick around.

(More touched starved Jon! Much hurt/comfort!)

Something Old, Something New by @cirrus-grey

Months have passed, and everyone is doing better than they were. Daisy and Basira are getting married, Melanie is feeling her old self, Georgie is as much herself as she has ever been, and even Jon has stabilized on his wild fall away from humanity. Everyone is doing better.

Well. Almost everyone.

(Daisy/Barsira wedding! Melanie is a bitch and we love her! Jmartin dance! Post-canon (almost) everyone lives!)

The Weight of Love by @voiceless-terror

Jon is a restless sleeper. Martin attempts to adjust.

(The fic where Jon is literally me and Martin attempts to sleep for 1k words.)

The Art of Conversation by @voiceless-terror

"Do you ever stop talking?"

Jon has a complicated relationship with words. Difficulties come and go.

(Jon has adhd and Martin is in love.)

Novelty by @backofthebookshelf

Jon experiences A Sexual Attraction; Martin has A Concern. They figure it out.

(Any fic that explores the ace spectrum is a 10/10. We stan all ace interpretations of jon on this blog.)

Half a Hug by Dathen

I know you weren’t going to hurt me, I trust you, he said again and again. And then a different kind of fear shone through, hollow and echoing: “Please don’t stop touching me."

Or: Life is hard when you're touch-starved but have trauma related to your closest friend. Spoilers through TMA 132.

(Honestly bless every author who saw jon&daisy and was like. They’re siblings. No I will not elaborate.)

the loneliness never left me (but i can put it down in the pleasure of your company) by Athina_Blaine

It was about Martin making Jon feel safe, treasured, and loved. And it had been so, so long since anyone made him feel that way.

And, in the face of it all, Jon was starting to flounder.

(At this point I just need to make separate rec list for Scottish Honeymoon Era.)

you can watch me corrode by scarletfish

"So, how long have you been pulling this shit then?"

"I… excuse me?" Jon’s indignant, certain she can’t mean what he thinks she means.

"When was the last time you ate?"

(Georgie decides Jon and Melanie need a normal day off. Jon learns that he and Melanie have more in common than he thought.)

(Look, Melanie isn’t my favorite person in tma, but she and Jon are like THE SAME PERSON and I adore fics that elaborate on their relationship.)

Out of the Wind, In From the Cold by @ostentenacity

There are two bedrooms in the safehouse, and two beds.

For a moment, Jon considers asking to share, but decides against it with a wince. “I really loved you,” Martin had told him. Loved. Past tense. And Martin doesn’t exactly have a lot of choices right now in terms of company; it would be cruel to demand he play at feelings he no longer has just to make Jon happy.

(For a moment, Martin considers asking to share. But he dismisses the idea with a shake of his head. Jon has already done so much for him. Martin isn’t about to ask for more, especially not when it’s something he doesn’t really need. He has his right mind back, and he has Jon’s friendship. That should be enough for him. It’ll have to be.)

---

Jon thinks that Martin doesn’t love him. Martin thinks that Jon doesn’t love him. They do not, of course, discuss this. Unrequited love is already awkward enough, right? No need to dwell on it.

(THEE SCOTTISH HONEYMOON ERA FIC. IT’S ABOUT THE PINING, BEING MUTUALLY OBLIVIOUS AND FALLING IN LOVE. 10000/10.)

I Do by @voiceless-terror

“I, um- this was supposed to be a lot more romantic, I swear.” Martin looks down at the dirty bar floor. “I had it all planned out, I-I was going to take you somewhere nice, and then we’d go for a walk in the square- I’ll still do it!” He hurries to explain, as if that’s the most pressing part of this situation. “It’ll be really nice, I’ve already hired a photographer-”

In a fit of protectiveness, Martin proposes to Jon.

(Everyone lives, Martin accidentally proposes and Jon is crying in public.)

________

#lmao follow for more fic recs #ash recs #ash's rec list #ash recs fics #tma fic list #tma fics #jmart #jmartin #jon sims #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #tma fic recs

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lcksndkys · 4 years ago

Text

Pairing: hobi x reader

Rating: NSFW

Genre: dancer!hobi x bff reader

Word count: ~4.1k

Warnings: explicit sexual content, unprotected sex on a kitchen counter (bffs who trust each other, but still should wrap it before you tap it!!), brief masterbation, nipple play (cus duh, it’s me)

A/N: When I wrote Permission, I thought I’d leave it semi open ended, but there were a few people who wanted some closure ( @btsarmy9593 @junghelioseok ) and I was happy to continue this story!! S/o to my people @jinpanman and @wwilloww for the song recs and the figurative pom poms!! If you liked it, feel free to talk to me about it!!

01, 02

The next few days had passed without word- carrier pigeon, smoke signal, or otherwise- from Hoseok.

If you’re being honest with yourself, you’d admit that it appears neither of you are willing to revisit the events that had transpired in the small studio any time soon. You still can’t believe Hoseok kissed you as part of his audition routine. A year spent romanticizing what it would be like, and he ruined it so recklessly.

You had heard from Seokjin, a mutual friend, that Hoseok nailed his audition and was offered a job at The Pied Piper. Bitterly, you wonder who he locked lips with during his routine, and immediately banish the thought from your mind.

According to your sources (read: Jin), Hoseok has been rehearsing choreography with the rest of the cast over the last few weeks. Part of you knows that he’s busy, and the other part wonders if he’s just using his busy schedule as a means to avoid you.

Either way, it doesn’t stop you from missing him. Conversations have been short with Hoseok replying with one worded responses and no attempts to keep conversation flowing.

Logically, you know that you could confront him. Half of you is dying to, but the petty side of you refuses to cave first.

You’ve spent the past few weeks burying yourself in work and chores. You almost forget the feeling of his body grinding against you, his hand wrapped around your neck, his lips on yours.

Your skin prickles at the memory.

I wasn’t talking about you.

What was that supposed to mean? Who was he talking about?

Hope is a dangerous thing, and you refuse to believe what Hoseok was possibly implying. Because if his affections were surface level, it would crush you.

You dive back into your work, taking on as many projects as possible to keep from dwelling on thoughts of Hoseok.

At work the following morning, your phone vibrates with a notification breaking you from your muddled thoughts.

You feel around your desk for your phone tapping the screen to see that Jin has texted you.

[11:21am] WWH: it’s friyay.

[11:22am] WWH: We’re goin to The Pied Piper tonight!! Pick you up at 9 ;)

Groaning, you discreetly check your periphery noting that your colleagues appear to be too absorbed in their work to watch you try to decline a very insistent friend.

[11:24am] You: No, Jin… I don’t really feel well :(

Several minutes pass with no further pleading from Jin, but then your phone buzzes again.

[11:34am] Yoongi: If you don’t come to Hoseok’s opening night, he’ll be crushed.

[11:39am] Yoongi: Come with us. Please

You sigh. It’s not often that Yoongi begs, but you know he’s right. Although things between you and Hoseok have been tense lately, you know you can’t miss the opportunity to support your best friend.

[11:41am] You: Fine.

[11:42am] Yoongi: Atta girl

The Pied Piper isn’t what you thought it would be. It’s less of a strip club and more of a small concert venue with tables and booths of various sizes surrounding a raised stage. You let Jin lead you towards your seats with Yoongi following close behind.

To your dismay, the small table you arrive at is frighteningly close to the front row where you’re sure Hoseok could see you.

Taking your seat flanked by your two friends, you cross your legs in the attempt to tamp down the nervous bouncing of your foot.

To your right, Yoongi places a calming hand on your knee to stop your fidgeting.

“It’s just Hoseok,” he reminds you. His knowing eyes stare deep into yours.

You take a deep breath and let Yoongi’s words soothe you.

On your left, Jin is trying to talk over you to Yoongi about checking out the strippers on the other side of The Pied Piper after the show.

Just after 9:30pm, the lights begin to dim, setting your nerves alight.

Soft music starts as a dozen or so men saunter through the crowd to take the stage.

You feel the swoosh of air behind you as one of the dancers passes by the back of your seat. Coming around to the front of your table, you’re mesmerized by the fluid way his body moves. Blond hair slicked back, he dances in front of your table for the remainder of the song and sends you a flirty wink.

Mesmerized by him, you watch as he spreads his legs in a deep squat, arms crossed over his chest as he thrusts his hips to the beat. At the end of the song, he blows you a kiss with his full lips, turning to focus his attention to a different table of patrons.

You feel a pointy elbow nudge against your side and you turn sharply to your left to see Jin’s smug smile as he waggles his eyebrows suggestively at you.

Rolling your eyes, you focus back on the show.

The men have gathered around on stage as the intro song fades. Once in formation, another song starts up. More upbeat, the men break out into the next part of the choreography, each following the routine to complement his own style.

Some have started unbuttoning their shirts to show more skin.

Your eyes dart around, stalling on a particularly handsome dancer as he rakes back his long, dark hair with a heavily tattooed hand while swaying his hips to the music. Slowly unbuttoning his black shirt and swaying his hips and thick thighs, he flashes his doe eyes and muscles to the crowd, looking equal parts boyish and lethal.

Your gaze follows his powerful body as he moves across stage, undressing his upper body to reveal the smooth, inked planes of his torso. He throws his shirt somewhere behind the audience (probably for staff to pick up) and you watch him until he passes by a familiar figure.

Dressed in a white button down with sleeves rolled up his forearms, Hoseok catches your eyes with his dancing. Your breath stutters in your chest, skin heating in memory of his hips grinding against yours.

Trying to focus on a different dancer, you settle on watching Blondie while he drops to his hands and knees humping the floor slowly and sensually to the beat of the song. You remember this move when Hoseok performed his audition piece for you, and you can’t help but recall the way desire had pooled deep and hot in your belly. Watching this beautiful man dance tonight, while pleasing, does not move your heart.

As the night progresses, the dancers move seamlessly through the choreography jumping from one routine to the next. Most of the dancers are now topless, in nothing but fitted jeans with underwear bands peeking up over their beltlines.

You try to keep your eyes off Hoseok.

Try.

Until the group breaks formation to disperse into the audience for a more close up look at their, ahem, dancing skills. Hoots and hollers fill the air as the men spread out and start giving lap dances to their audience.

At your left, Jin cackles loudly at the sight of Tattoos straddling a middle aged woman against her chair. His prominent front teeth are on display as he smiles at her, leaning down to whisper in her ear over the booming music. Seconds later, you see her nod her consent enthusiastically while he presses her hands against his rippling pectorals.

Hoseok has been watching you watch Tattoos with a frown.

Distracted, you don’t see him rapidly approach your table until he stands before you. Of course Jin bought tickets in Hoseok’s section.

You tense up and think about running, but Yoongi’s calming hand briefly returns to your knee, encouraging you to stay. It’s just Hoseok, you remind yourself.

In front of your table, Hoseok locks eyes with you, slowly starting to undress his upper body. Leaving his shirt open, he pushes his sleeves further up his elbows revealing his sinewy forearms.

Although the room is dark, you can feel the flush of blood creep up your neck and face at Hobi’s intense stare. You swallow down a whimper as he grips the back of your chair and spreads his thighs wide over yours, hovering several inches over you. There’s no contact between his body and yours, yet you can feel his warmth.

“May I give you a dance?” he asks huskily into your ear.

You shiver at the contact as your body betrays you. Feeling your nod of consent, Hoseok grins and slowly drops his weight onto your lap.

Bare witness to my evolution

Violent moans, untamed contusions

We’re not really here it’s all Illusions

Vaguely you hear and feel Jin howling in delight at the sight unfolding next to him.

Holding you close, Hoseok pulls your hands off your lap to wrap around his waist while he grinds his hips against you. He tucks his face into your neck, dragging his perfectly sloped nose against the sensitive skin there. At this distance, you can’t see his face and pray that he can’t feel the bounding of your pulse.

You grab me there your fingers sink

We breathe, we tense, no time to think

I take you 'til you’re on the brink

Then we dive off the edge in sync

Sliding up and down your body, Hoseok encourages your hands to wander across his hips and lower back.

You bite your lip and allow your fingers to ghost their way under his open shirt, up along the ridges of his ribs and down to his ass, feeling the way the muscle contracts as he moves against you.

Make love, fuck

Lick me up

Petals, pluck

Drive me, clutch

You feel the rumbling in his chest as your wandering hands explore his body.

Hoseok eagerly rolls his hips against yours to the beat of the song. Goosebumps litter your neck as he pants into your ear.

What’s your pleasure, what’s my name?

Blend and merge until we’re same

Nothing much of us remains

As the song winds down, Hoseok pulls back from you to stare into your eyes. He gently removes your hand from his waistline and presses your palm into his chest- left of center- over his thrumming heart.

Your breath catches in your throat at the look he gives you. Hand still trapped against his chest, all you can focus on is the pounding underneath your fingertips and the burning in his hooded eyes.

In this moment, there’s no strip club, no Jin or Yoongi, no audience or dancers. Everything fades away and it’s just you and Hoseok.

Until the song changes yet again and Hoseok dismounts from you without a second glance, swiftly moving on to the bachelorette party next to you.

You can still feel the heat of his body as you watch Hoseok dance around them, hips thrusting wildly as he artfully maneuvers his body to the bass. He smiles at the blushing bride-to-be and her entourage.

Hoseok picks up her hand as if to inspect her engagement ring before pressing a kiss to her knuckles with a wink. He’s clearly flirting with her, but with the noise of the club, there’s no way to tell what he’s saying.

Teeth clenched tight, you remind yourself you have no right to be jealous.

Your gut wrenches at the sight of him wrapped around another woman as his body undulates against her. He backs off slightly only to pick up her legs, spreading them to wind around his waist to better grind against her. Peals of laughter ring out higher than the music. An unpleasant weight settles deep in your stomach as you watch Hoseok basically dry hump her.

There’s a brief lull in the song, barely long enough for Yoongi to hear the pained gasp that leaves your lips when he moves on to one of her friends.

The comforting hand on your arm prompts you to drag your watering eyes off Hoseok. You meet Yoongi’s furrowed brow.

“Wait. Do you- ” he looks from you to Hoseok, and back again. His eyes widen as he rapidly deduces the reason for your sudden mood.

You quickly glance at Jin who is still busy watching Hoseok entertain the table of bachelorettes.

Biting your lip to hold in your sniffling, you nod once up and down in quiet confirmation.

“Holy shit,” he whispers.

Instead of relief, it feels like your chest caves to the pressure of admitting your feelings. It was easy to lie to yourself, but you don’t think you keep up the act now that Yoongi knows.

Suddenly the club becomes unbearably stuffy.

You lean over to Jin, raising your voice over the music. “I’m gonna go get some air,” you shout and quickly make a beeline for the exit.

With your back turned, you don’t see the pair of longing eyes follow your figure as you leave.

Outside, the air is crisp as it nips at your exposed skin. You take a few deep breaths letting the sharp air soothe the ache in your heart. Deciding you can’t stay and watch the rest of the show, you sent a text to Jin and Yoongi to let them know you’ve called an Uber to go home.

Freshly showered and lying in bed, you browse through your work emails to keep your mind busy. You’re determined to fall asleep without the memory of Hoseok grinding against random women tonight.

As the minutes tick by, your eyes grow heavy with sleep and you roll over to put your phone on your bedside table.

Thump, thump. Thump. A firm fist pounds on your door insistently, ridding you of any drowsiness as adrenaline floods your system.

Tapping your phone, you see it’s much too late for any decent social visits. There are no missed notifications; nothing to suggest you may have a visitor tonight.

At your hesitance, the rapping continues more adamantly.

You cautiously approach the front door and peer through the peephole.

Hoseok.

Relief washes over you, followed closely by frustration. Weeks of near-silence and he shows up unannounced at your door at 2am??

Throwing open your door, you’re ready to send him away.

The words die on your tongue at the sight before you. Eyes downcast, hair messy.

“I know it’s late, but can I stay?” he asks quietly.

Your heart lurches in your chest as you swing the door wider and step aside to allow him entry. From the smell of his lightly floral shampoo you can tell he must’ve showered after the show.

Your eyebrows raise in alarm when you note a slight wobble in his gait as he makes his way to your kitchen. He's clearly been drinking.

He pulls a glass from the cabinet and pours himself a cup of water. Taking a small sip, he nervously passes the glass back and forth between his hands.

“I- uh- I went out with Yoongi-hyung and Jin-hyung after the show,” he explains.

Arms folded over your chest, you nod in understanding.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks. “I’ve been an ass.”

There’s a tense moment as you both regard each other.

“Yeah it fucking sucks to have your best friend ignore your existence for weeks at a time” you retort.

He flinches at your harsh tone. “I just… I didn’t know how to be around you after… that.”

“After what? Your audition? Hobi, I don’t care that you want to dance in a strip show!” you lie easily through your teeth.

“It’s not the dancing,” he pauses to take a deep breath, steeling himself. “I meant… the kiss”

His adam’s apple bobs as he breaches the topic. “It wasn’t part of my audition routine. I kissed you because I wanted to. I want more” he whispers.

Eyes rounded in surprise, your mind is both loud and silent at the same time, short circuiting at his confession.

“And you kissed me back, but like, it didn’t seem like you were that into it and I just- I let you think it was part of the routine” he babbles on.

“But- “

“I like you- really like you” he says earnestly. Fingers wrap tightly around his water, cutting to the chase.

“I had no idea,” you insist.

“I literally told you how I feel back when I practiced my audition piece for you”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t clear.” you bite back.

“My kissing you wasn’t clear enough?” he shoots back with a quirked brow.

You sputter. “I really thought it was part of your audition!” you exclaim.

“Forgive me for being old-fashioned, but I don’t often kiss women I’m not interested in,” he says, setting down his glass to take a few steps closer to you.

Your head spins. “So, you’re still interested?”

“How many times do I have to tell you I’m into you before you get it?”

“Maybe one more time” you grin up at him suggestively.

Hands hovering over your waist, he smiles as he leans in, nose gently grazing yours as he breathes you in.

You tilt up chasing his lips when he suddenly pulls back.

“I need to know this isn’t just some fling for you. If we’re going to do this, it needs to be the real deal.” His eyes search yours and he must see what he’s looking for as he grins, dimples on full display.

Hand sliding up his chest and cupping his jaw, you hold him close.

“I’ve liked you for months” you confess quickly. “It’s real, trust me” you say, pulling him back into you. You slot your lips against his, eager for another taste. Suckling gently on his lower lip, you feel his chest rumble with a growl as he presses into you with ardour.

Hoseok’s hands find their way around you, feverishly mapping out your body as he allows you to mold your mouths together.

He immediately tilts his head, deepening the kiss.

Your fingers pull at his dark strands and eagerly caress his neck. You feel the way his jaw moves as his mouth opens wider to send his tongue out to press into your mouth.

His hands turn frantic, pawing at the curves he's been fantasizing about over the past couple of years.

You let him push you up against the counter top as you continue kissing, his hips pinning you in place as his hands continue to greedily rub up and down your back and sides before slowly creeping up your front.

"Can I?" he rasps, fingers staying below your ribs,waiting for your consent.

"Please. I want you to touch me, Hobi" you beg.

He growls at your enthusiasm and roughly cups your breasts. Even beneath the layers of clothing, he can feel the way your nipples pebble with desire.

Pushing his hands aside, you reach down and pull your sweater and top up and over your head exposing your bare torso to him.

“Fuck,” he grunts, hands returning to roll and pinch at your sensitive buds.

You shiver with need as he plays with your tits, enjoying the way pleasure shoots down to your cunt.

Hands leaving your breasts, he swats at your bottom. “Up,” Hoseok commands.

Obediently, you hop up onto the counter top, careful to avoid his barely touched glass of water. He spreads your thighs to slot his body against you. Legs pulling him in closer, you feel the evidence of his arousal at your center as he presses his erection against your quickly dampening panties.

His arms wrap around you bringing your chest to his face and suckles your nipple into his hot, wet mouth. Moaning, you send both hands into his hair as he continues his erotic assault on your body.

Hoseok grinds his hips against your core as he laves equally at both tits, leaving your nipples perked and shining in his saliva.

“On or over the counter,” he rasps.

“I want whatever you want,” you pant, desperate to feel him against you.

“Fuck,” he huffs. “Can I take these off? I wanna see all of you” he pleads, tugging at the waistband of your sleep shorts.

Instead of responding, you push him back a step to slowly slide off your remaining clothing and scoot back on the counter top. You part your thighs giving him the perfect view of your glistening cunt.

To entice him further, you slide a finger up and down your slick, swirling around your clit, and dipping into your sodden entrance.

“Holy shit, I want you so bad,” Hoseok groans with his eyes focused on the way you fuck yourself open with your fingers.

He allows himself a moment to enjoy the sight of you pleasuring yourself for him, studying the way you touch pussy. Having enough, Hoseok pulls your hand off yourself and wraps his lips around your digits, moaning at your taste.

“Fuck me, Hobi, I’m ready,” you whimper.

Unable to hold back any longer, he growls, pulling you down from your perch and flipping you to face the countertop. With gentle pressure against your upper back, he encourages you down to your elbows, bending you forwards to present your cunt to him.

You hiss at the feeling of cold marble against your hardened nipples.

Distracted, you don’t hear the rustling of clothing as Hoseok tears himself free, eager to feel your skin against his.

You gasp at the feeling of the blunt head of his cock sliding against your slit, bumping against your clit to send tingles of pleasure through you in waves.

“Is this ok? I’m clean,” he promises.

You trust him.

“Me too. I’ve never had anyone bare,” you moan, pushing your hips back in the attempt to slide him into you.

“You want me, baby?” he asks one last time.

“Yes, Hobi, yes, just fuck me-” you whine, cut off when he takes his first stroke into your quivering walls, going slow so you feel every inch of him.

He thrusts gently a few times into your heat until he finally bottoms out inside you.

Eager for more, you push your hips back against him to fuck yourself on his cock. “I like it rough,” you urge him.

Growling, Hoseok sets a brutal pace, desperately drilling his cock in and out of you.

You whimper in pleasure at his handling. Hoseok caresses at your back and hips and ass as if attempting to memorize the feel of your skin as he sinks into you over and over. Curling his fingers around your hips, he pulls you onto his length as he surges forwards, your breasts bouncing with the force of his trusts.

Eyes clamped shut in pleasure, you feel your legs shake with your impending release.

“Hobi, I’m getting close,” you whimper.

He grunts in approval, suddenly hoisting you up onto the counter so that your toes barely skim the floor.

You squeal in surprise. In this position with your legs dangling, you wildly grasp at the smooth marble in the attempt to hold onto something. Hoseok pounds into you and you are unable to do anything but accept the pleasure he gives you.

“Cum on my cock,” Hoseok urges. “I need to feel you cum first”

“So deep, ah- fuck! You feel so good, Hobi” you gasp as he continues to thrust into you.

Your toes curl as his pace increases, desperate to get you off before he blows.

“Touch me, please, I’m so close,” you beg.

Sending his fingers between your legs, he rubs quick circles as you showed him earlier around your throbbing clit.

Your walls flutter wildly around him as you begin to unravel.

“That’s my girl,” Hoseok grunts as he feels your walls tighten around him.

You cum with a strangled moan of his name, puffing against the marbled surface as you clench rhythmically around his turgid length.

Ears ringing in post orgasm haze, you feel Hoseok continue to thrust desperately into your wet heat.

Panting he asks urgently, “Can I cum inside?”

“Fill me up,” you whimper, nodding enthusiastically.

With your permission, Hoseok lets go. Draping his front against your back, he buries deep into your cunt and releases into your velvet heat with a loud, drawn out groan.

Lying prone over the marble and still speared on his cock, Hoseok peppers sweet kisses along your nape and shoulders, gently suckling against your skin as you both revel in post-coital bliss.

“Mmm,” you keen at his attention as he presses one last lingering kiss behind your ear.

“You were serious earlier, right?” he asks softly. “You really want more, too?”

Craning to look back at him, you see a line of worry between his brows as he waits for your confirmation.

“I just wanna be yours, Hoseok,” you affirm with a shy smile.

He beams down at you, and like a flower to a sun, you can’t help but smile back.

#hoseok fanfic #hobi fanfic #hoseok smut #hobi smut #dancer hobi #exotic dancer au #f2l au #who wants a lapdance from hobi

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sitp-recs · 4 years ago

Note

ASDFGHJKL YOU LIKE PANSMIONE OMG!!!

Can I please have smut fic recs of them 😳👉👈

Hi anon! I’m sorry this took a while, I was still exploring this ship a bit. I listed a few Explicit fics below and I’m summoning @teacup-tai in case she knows more :D enjoy!

Stacked by @lqtraintracks (2016, 1.4k)

Pansy. Hermione. Bookstore horniness.

Especially for you by @malenkayacherepakha (2020, 1.4k)

Pansy had always been able to make Hermione throw caution to the wind.

Scorching by @teacup-tai (2020, 1.5k)

We don't know how, but they're in this badly lit bathroom, having delicious crazy sex. And Hermione is left completely shaken. Porn without plot.

On the Edge by Bittercape (2020, 1.7k)

There are many ways to relieve tension.

What Grown-Ups Do by Lokifan (2012, 2k) - warning: infidelity

Hermione and Ron’s annual grown-up, middle-class Christmas party is under way. Pansy attends.

Ravish Me Red by darkmagicalgirl (2016, 2.3k)

Professor Parkinson submits her budget proposal to Headmistress Granger and they discuss it in a mature fashion.

Linoleum by swift_river_singing (2016, 2.5k)

Hermione is looking for oblivion; Pansy is happy to oblige.

Mine by maraudersaffair (2019, 4.4k)

Pansy can’t stop fucking Hermione. She also can’t stop thinking about her. Could Hermione feel the same way?

Autumn Light, Winter Rain by @lqtraintracks (2017, 5k)

Some moments, even small ones, are worth risking everything for.

Patience by FleetofShippyShips (2017, 5k)

Patience isn't Hermione's strong point, and Pansy can always outlast her. Still, she knows the rewards will be worth it.

Fade In (Let Me) by Snegurochka (Harry/Pansy/Hermione, 2011, 7.6k)

Until the night Hermione walked in on them together, Harry and Pansy didn't know what they were missing.

Lush series by dreamsofdramione (Pansy/Hermione/Draco, 2020, 9.6k)

A shock of blond hair catches Hermione’s eye just as Pansy asks, “Anyone look promising so far?”

Her pulse picks up to pound in time with the music again. Swallowing around the lump in her throat, she says, “No.” When grey eyes catch hers, she knows that’s a lie.

Fridays at the Purple Unicorn by Icicle (2017, 11k) - warning: infidelity

Hermione and Ginny have a Girl's Night Out at the Purple Unicorn. Hermione is surprised when she runs into a much changed Pansy Parkinson. And what is so special about Lavender Brown anyway?

Pansy, Rows, and Mutual Wanking by @violetclarity (2020, 27k)

Eighth year. Hermione's ready. She's going to study, have fun with her friends, and ignore her new roommate's obnoxious wanking habits. And alright, maybe she wouldn't be so annoyed with it if she'd had any good sex in the past. But that doesn't mean she wants Pansy Parkinson to teach her how to wank... does it?

#anon #asks #Pansmione #smut recs

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nightshade-minho · 5 years ago

Text

-Nightmare (7)-

Warnings: (Smut! Finally!) Drunken Sex, Slight Manhandling, Minho is somehow both v. rough and soft at the same time, Marking Kink, Minho lovin’ your body up, Nipple Play, Very very slight Navel Kink, Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Slight Degradation, Creampie, Cumplay etc.

Word Count: 4k

Song Recs: “church” and “slow down” by Chase Atlantic (Cause that’s what I listened to when writing this, and it may have made me go a little crazy on this smut scene lol.)

Your brain was all over the place, your heart thudding as Minho pulled you out of the room, into the empty hallway. He slammed you against the wall, trapping you with his arms as he looked deep into your eyes, glaring.

“I’m confused. Y/n. I’m so fucking confused.” He couldn’t take it anymore. His heart was a mess, love and hate mingling in him, suffocating him.

You blinked rapidly. He was way too close to you. You couldn’t think straight with those lips right in front of you.

“W-what? What’re you talking about?”

He scoffed. “You’re well aware, don’t bullshit me.”

He used his finger to tilt your chin up. “Recently, you’ve been making me feel...things. I don’t like it. I fucking hate it, okay?” Minho felt tears prick his eyes. He hated the way you were making him vulnerable. He hated being weak. The scariest thing about all of this was the fact that it wasn’t recent. He’d just been denying and trapping his emotions for almost sixteen years now...you’ve always been his weakness.

He bit his lip. You were looking up at him with those wide eyes of yours...and it was doing things to him. God, he fucking hated the way your expression was making blood rush south. He leaned in closer. “I don’t like that asshole either. I don’t like the way he keeps flirting with you. You’re mine, okay?” He growled.

“What? I- you can’t say stuff like that. I’m not your girlfriend.”

He smirked. “Technically, you are.”

Before you could say anything more, his lips were back on yours as he feverishly kissed you again, like a man starved. You moaned into the kiss, hooking your arms around his neck as he ran his hands up your body, slipping them under your top. “Fuck, I wanna rip this right off you-” He snapped, lips going to your neck as he kissed you.

“N-not here.”

“You’re right.” He said, pulling away from you, grabbing your wrist again. “Come on.”

***

The car ride was silent, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. You kept glancing at him, noting the way he gripped the steering wheel tightly, gritting his teeth.

When you reached, Minho silently waited, looking straight ahead as he continued tapping the steering wheel. You removed your seat-belt, nervously getting out and walking to your apartment, looking behind you to see if he was following.

He was, his eyes fixed on your back as the two of you got inside the elevator. You pressed the button to your floor, leaning back against the wall. Your heart was pounding as you thought of what was going to happen. God, were you even ready? It was all happening too fast.

Of course, there had been times when the sexual tension between you two was so evident that even some of your mutual friends noticed it. Those incidents grew in number over the last two years, when you started living together. In fact, you’d once walked in on Minho naked in the shower. You hadn’t seen much though, cause he’d shrieked so loudly that you’d closed the door immediately.

But it wasn’t like Minho left much to your imagination anyway. He would constantly walk around shirtless, and occasionally, he would wear grey sweatpants that made it crystal clear that the man sometimes liked going commando. You suddenly realized that in a while, you might actually be seeing his cock, and not just the outline of it. You slowly glanced at Minho, observing the quiet anger in his expression...and knew you probably wouldn’t be able to walk for the next week.

But as he continued avoiding eye contact, you wondered if anything was going to happen at all. Maybe it was all just a misunderstanding? You began to calm down a little bit. Yeah, definitely...you were freaking out over nothing. Surely Minho wouldn’t throw away sixteen years of friendship for one night of drunken sex...right?

You were wrong. Because as the elevator reached the floor and you walked out, his mind was swimming with thoughts. He couldn’t comprehend his emotions correctly. Him? In love? It was such an unusual concept to wrap his head around.

Minho had always used sex as a way of forgetting things, a way to satisfy himself and get rid of stress. Maybe the reason he was feeling these things was out of curiosity, that had risen from living with a girl? After all, puberty had treated you quite kindly. You were no longer the innocent girl who’d spilled glue on him in kindergarten.

He couldn’t deny that he’d had some not-safe-for-work thoughts about you before. You were also the first girl he’d ever masturbated to. He inwardly chuckled when he thought about high-school Minho and the way he’d had no other material to jack off to. After that day though, Minho had chalked it off to the fact that you were the only girl he interacted with, until he got to college. But then of course, history had repeated itself in the shower a few days ago.

Also, you were the only girl in his life that he hadn’t fucked. Yes...maybe finally having sex with you would push these feelings out of his head? He needed to remind himself that you were just like the other girls. He was an expert at fucking after all...he’d done this a thousand times!

Why then, did he feel so nervous?

***

As soon as you opened the door, Minho lifted you up, causing you to gasp in surprise before you were pushed against the wall again, your legs now wrapped around his waist as he furiously pressed kisses to your neck, marking you up. A moan slipped past your lips as you held onto him, the way he was pressed up against you making you dizzy. “Why...” He breathed down your neck, “...are you making me feel this way...”

You whimpered as he ran his tongue over the red patches blooming on your neck. “There, now that fucker can back off.” He smirked, staring at his masterpiece for a few seconds.

He pulled away from you, stretching his arm to close the door. Supporting your weight, his arms moved under your thighs as you clung to him, the two of you still kissing as he carried you further into the apartment. He sat down, sucking on your bottom lip as you felt him grope your ass, groaning. You moved to adjust yourself on his lap, pausing when you felt his hardened crotch brush up between your thighs. He grinded up into you, slipping his hands back under your top. “Fuck...I need this to be off now. Need to...need to see all of you.”

You tugged the edge of your top, licking your lips. You didn’t know where the sudden confidence came from, but you reached up to cup your boobs, running your fingers over your nipples until they became erect, pressing through the thin fabric as you let out a wanton moan. Minho watched you, the intensity and ardor behind his stare making you wetter than you thought was possible.

“Fuck. That’s it.” He flipped you around, pressing you onto the couch, crawling over you as he spread your legs apart, fitting himself between them. His eyes raked over your face as he grabbed your top, clutching it before ripping the flimsy material in half. You squealed in shock.

“What the fuck...Minho!?” His eyes ran over your exposed boobs as he groaned, ignoring you.

“I...you tore my shirt!” To be honest, you didn’t really care...the action had only made you soak your panties even more, and it wasn’t like you were ever going to wear that top again. From the way Minho raised his eyebrows, it was evident that he knew that as well.

“No bra, angel?”

“Well, it was a halter top...”

He leaned down over you, taking your boob in one hand as he kissed the other, keeping eye contact as he took your nipple in his mouth. You winced as he bit down on your bud gently. Running the pad of his thumb over your left nipple, he softly suckled on your right one, letting out the lewdest moans as he paid attention to your breasts, mercilessly sucking and biting your tits until they were red and supple.

At this point you were dripping, pussy throbbing, anticipating him as he kissed his way up to your lips, sighing into your open mouth. You let your hands drift up to his hair, softly tugging as he moaned against you, pressing his bulge against you harder.

It was dark, since the two of you hadn’t bothered to switch on the lights, but you could still see his face thanks to the moonlight streaming in through the glass balcony doors. He looked so far gone, biting his sore lips, his eyes lidded as he stared at you, looking like he was committing every detail to memory.

You were pretty sure his expression was reflected in you as well. He hummed as he pulled away, ripping your shirt a little more, and throwing the shreds onto the floor. He mumbled something as he pressed his palms over your torso, scooting backwards a little and running his tongue over your belly, circling your belly button, before flicking his tongue in and out of your navel playfully. Pulling away, he dipped his finger in, slightly tickling you.

You whimpered, causing him to chuckle as he continued sucking and licking all over, christening your entire body with his saliva.

As Minho kept up his ministrations, there was a small voice in the back of his head asking him why he hadn’t fucked you yet. Usually, he engaged in minimum foreplay before he screwed someone. However, with you...somehow, he was consumed with this deep desire to keep loving your body like this. He wished he could leave permanent marks all over you...there was an ardent feeling of possessiveness that was gripping him. But for now, he settled for hickeys, adorning your body with his marks as your moans graced his ears.

“P-please..”

“What was that?” Minho looked up at you, his lips curling as an evil grin took over his features.

“I need you...Fuck, I need you so bad. P-please touch me...” You begged.

His grin disappeared as it was replaced with a look of potent passion as he growled, fiddling with your jeans button as he tried to pull them off. You moved to help him, but his hand shot out to grab your wrist, pinning it over your head as he used his other hand to slide your jeans off you.

He adjusted himself, spreading your thighs apart and pressing kisses to your inner thigh. He pulled back a little, his eyes focused on your center. “Fuck...baby, you’ve drenched your panties through. Did you really enjoy my mouth that much?”

You nodded, pouting. He groaned. Using his index finger, he brushed over your covered clit. You were wearing lacy panties similar to the ones you’d worn that night when he’d found you in his bed, except these were a dark red color. His cock pressed painfully against his boxers, but he needed to enjoy this moment a little more. He couldn’t believe you were sprawled in front of him like this. He’d never imagined this would happen.

As he rubbed your pussy over your panties, your whimpers flowing out of you, he thought about how the tight lust and desire in him was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. He’d never felt this...this detached from reality. He couldn’t bring himself to give a fuck about the consequences that this night would bear. All he could concentrate was you, your body and your face, currently screwed up with pleasure as he placed a kiss to the front of your underwear.

Minho finally pulled your panties to the side, the sight of your sopping wet cunt coaxing a swear word out of him.

“This is all for me?” You let out a moan in response. He let out a breathy laugh suddenly as he ran his finger over your naked folds. “So this is why you take so long in the bathroom sometimes, huh? I’m not gonna complain anymore, if that’s the case.” You giggled a little at that, tapering at the end as you whined.

He couldn’t delay it any longer. He wanted to rip your panties off you, but the pair was too sexy to ruin. He settled for pulling them off as fast as he could, tossing them somewhere as his eyes took in your vulva smeared with your arousal.

He used two fingers to caress your labia, circling your entrance before pushing them in, sighing at the way your tight, velvety walls hugged his fingers. “You’re so warm...and so fucking wet. I can’t wait to ruin you, kitten.”

The pet name made you open your tightly shut eyes, staring at him as he smirked up at you. He kissed your abdomen, biting down as he let his fingers go deeper, curling up to find your sweet spot. You keened as his other hand fondled your breast, stroking your nipple as he moved his fingers in and out of you feverishly. It felt so good. Your eyes rolled back in your head as his thumb messed with your clit, chuckling at the slick sounds your pussy was making as he fucked you with his fingers.

“You like that? You like that, don’t you...my slutty little kitten loves it.”

You whined loudly, arms reaching out to hold on to something- anything- when his pace quickened, becoming faster and rougher as he scissored his fingers, before shoving them in and out mercilessly.

The way you arched your back as you screamed out his name was making him even harder, if that was even possible. “Come on, baby...cum. Cum, and then let me fuck that juicy pussy of yours.”

You came undone at his words, as he pressed his thumb over your clit. The electricity shooting through you heightened, your white-hot orgasm making you cry out Minho’s name, sniffling.

Minho pulled his fingers out slowly, his eyes dilating as he patted your twitching pussy. “Wow, a creamer, huh? Who would’ve thought...”

He held his wet fingers up to your mouth, slipping them past your lips. You sucked on them eagerly, your warm tongue and mouth wrapping around him, making him curse.

“Jesus Christ, Y/n, have you always been this fucking sexy?” He asked. You let out a muffled response, making him snicker. He took his finger out and you breathed in deeply.

“M-minho...you’re still fully clothed...and I’m naked.”

Minho frowned for a second. “Oh...I guess I am. Let’s fix that, shall we?” He winked, before taking off his jacket and pulling his shirt off next. He took your hand, pressing them to his abs as he leaned down, licking your lips before biting down on one, making you yelp.

He was so fucking hot. You watched as he drew back to unzip, pulling his pants and boxers down just enough for his dick to pop out. Your eyes widened. You’d known he was above average, but his cock was so...pretty, for lack of a better word to describe it. It was pink and veiny, the tip an angry red, and almost the perfect length.

He stroked his erection a few times before running the head all over your pussy lips, coating your vulva with his pre-cum. He finally aligned his dick with your entrance, the tip grazing your slit as he looked up at you.

The two of you gazed into each other’s eyes. If you went through with this...there’d be sixteen years of friendship at stake.

At this point though, you’d already gone too far. It was too late to rethink your decisions...or was it? You could see the hesitance in Minho’s eyes as well. If you’d both been sober, this would most definitely never have happened...

Minho moved a little, opening his mouth to say something. The action made his dick rub against your clit, and you accidentally whined at the friction.

Oh, fuck no. He couldn’t hold back anymore.

Minho slammed his hips into yours, bottoming out in one go thanks to how wet you were, prompting a scream from you. He pushed deeper, until his tip was hitting your cervix, a pleasurable pain shooting through you at the feeling.

“Angh~” Minho tossed his head back slightly at the heavenly feeling of your pussy wrapped around his length, tongue darting out to lick his dry lips.

He looked back down, groaning as he looked at the spot where you were connected. Slowly, he began to move, gazing at you with a lust-filled expression as he smirked. You wrapped your legs around his waist to take him deeper, arms around his neck as he began fucking into you, his cock relentlessly abusing all the places that made you want to cry in pleasure.

Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around your waist as he pulled you upright. He pulled out, making you feel empty. But then, he was picking you up bridal style, stumbling into his room and throwing you onto the bed, face down.

He put a hand under you, guiding you to the position he wanted, your ass in the air. Spreading your cheeks, he spat on your hole, watching as your pussy trembled, the bead of clear liquid disappearing between your folds.

In a few minutes, his cock was pressing into you again, his girth stretching you out oh-so deliciously. “You’re so fucking hot, taking my big cock so well.” His dick continued ramming into you as you moaned loudly, clapping your palm over your mouth.

“Oh fuck no, baby. I want the neighbors to hear just how hard I’m fucking you. My kitten’s pussy getting pounded into so fucking hard...”

He reached under you to rub your clit, making you wail as you pressed your cheek against his mattress, pushing your ass back onto him.

“God, you’re so eager.” He pulled out and flipped you over again, moving you further up the bed and pressing you against the pillows as he continued thrusting into you, the lewd sounds filling the room as his hips met yours.

“Do you feel it, kitten? Feel the way your greedy pussy sucks in my cock? You were fucking made to take my cock, weren’t you?” He leaned down to sloppily kiss you, thumb working wonders on your clit as he slowed down a little bit, going deeper. Pulling almost all the way out, he slammed back into you in one thrust, making tears spill out of your eyes as you shook, his hand tightly gripping your waist, sure to leave bruises.

He pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your mouths as you looked into each other’s eyes. Fuck, those galaxy-filled eyes...

You were nearing your high. He suddenly shoved you onto your side, taking his place behind you and spooning you before lifting your leg and hooking his arm underneath, grabbing your boob and resuming his thrusts.

You moaned as he messed with your nipple, wetly sucking on your neck as his dick incessantly hammered into you.

All the stimuli combined together was proving to be too much for you. You cried out, screaming as you felt the powerful build-up settle itself in you, taking root deep in your core. You shook, each dive of his length driving a wave of pleasure through you. Everything was heating up, sparks smoldering across your lower half as the intensity of the sensations built up.

He ghosted his lips over the shell of your ear, a husky laugh escaping him. “Are you going to cum, princess? I can feel the way you’re clenching around me...”

“I’m...gonna...fuck, Minhoooo....”

You cried incoherently, feeling your orgasm explode, raking through your body in waves as you squeezed around Minho, causing him to stutter. The orgasm knocked the breath out of you as you convulsed, repeating his name like a prayer.

“Oh my god, angel...fuck, I-” He heaved a sigh, lustily pinching your nipple as he plunged his cock as deep into you as he possibly could.

He couldn’t say more, his grip on you tightening as you felt him cum, his seed painting you white as he thrusted rabidly, riding out his orgasm with short, breathy whimpers.

The two of you panted, basking in the afterglow of your highs. Your pussy was throbbing, your head pounding.

“You’re...perfect...” he breathed out, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before he let go of your leg.

He moved, laying you on your back once again as he spread your thighs, his eyes hungrily running over the way your pussy quivered, more and more of his cum dripping down your folds with each spasm of your spent cunt. He looked up at you, biting his lip before his fingers collected the leaking drops, shoving them back into you as he finger-fucked his cum deeper into your aching pussy.

You sighed exhaustedly, hating the way his fingers were making your insides twist, a tornado of pleasure and overstimulation wheedling long, drawn out whines from you.

Once he was satisfied, he got up, finally kicking his pants off and pulling his boxers back up. You breathlessly wheezed, worn out. A few minutes later, you felt a towel being pressed to your folds, gently cleaning you up. Soon, Minho was wrapping you up in his arms, holding you close as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. Your eyes fluttered as you felt sleep overtake your senses.

Minho watched your sleeping features, his heart clenching. He’d thought that finally having sex with you would be a way for him to abandon those perplexing feelings he’d developed...however, as the moonlight washed over your sweaty, tangled bodies...all he could think about was how he wanted to stay in this position forever. Great, this had only made things worse.

He didn’t realize he was crying until a few minutes later. The vehemence of the emotions clutching his heart was making him dizzy. There was a reason he’d kept it locked up all those years...yet here he was, holding his best friend in his arms as he cried, like a weakling. He didn’t feel like himself.

He pulled you closer, remembering all the times you pushed him away when he came too near, or just looked plain uncomfortable in his presence. You just didn’t look at him the same way you did before college. It was like a switch had been flipped. You used to look at him with a wide smile adorning you at all times, playful and goofy. Yet for the past two years your eyes were closed-off, indecipherable...always looking like you were hiding something more. Was it because of him, and the person he’d become? Yes, he’d changed a lot...but did you really hate him because of it?

He shook his head, letting your soft snores lull him to sleep.

***

When he woke up, you were gone. He’d turned around, expecting to see you next to him, but the bed was empty.

Minho’s head was pounding, the hangover leaving his mouth dry. He felt like throwing up. He could barely remember last night...but he knew what had happened. The only moment he could recall distinctly was embracing you as you fell asleep wrapped in his arms, the familiar scent of your lemon flowers clouded with the smell of sex.

He got up with a yawn, stretching before he made his way to the living room, hoping to find you there. He frowned when there was no sight of you in the kitchen, either. He was beginning to get a little concerned...until he saw a piece of paper, weighed down with a pepper shaker.

He moved it, picking the letter up and reading it, his eyes widening in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, Minho. I should probably tell you this in person, but I don’t think I could handle that.

Last night was a mistake. The two of us weren’t in the right state of mind. In fact, I’m starting to think our whole friendship was a mistake...

I’m going to be staying at my friend’s for a while. I just don’t think this...us...is a good idea anymore. We’ve changed too much. I need some time alone after yesterday...and I hope you can understand that.

-Y/n.”

He tore the paper in two, grunting as he threw it down. Fuck this. He was crying again. Anger was burning him, and he could see nothing else, vision blurred due to the tears. He wanted to kill you for making him so weak.

He never knew love could be quite this painful.

1K notes · View notes

brynnmck · 4 years ago

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J/B Smut Swap recs!

I come bearing @jb-smut-swap recs! Presented mostly in posting order because that’s mostly how I read them, though first, my wonderful gift fic:

Jaime’s Game by @catherineflowers29 - SOFTEST BONDAGE EVER. I have told multiple people that reading this story felt like getting a warm hug, but with ropes. And a crucial part of the softness is the vulnerability between them, the way they’re so clearly building their trust in each other, taking care of each other, and there’s just a little bit of adorable awkwardness too as they negotiate this new thing together. It made my heart so glowy and happy. Cathy, thank you so much for volunteering to pick this up and delivering something so well-suited to my requests; I could feel the care you took with this and I appreciate it so much! <333

More recs below the cut ‘cause this got long (as did Jaime, HEYOOO); if I missed anyone’s Tumblr handle, please let me know!

Binary Explosive by @sdwolfpup - Okay this isn’t in posting order but I DID read this first and also it’s my blog and I make the rules. Am I biased about this fic because it’s SDW and because it was inspired by one of my favorite due South episodes? Yes. Does that make this fic any less amazing? IT DOES NOT. This is battle couple/mutual competence kink/danger kink at its finest, crackling with banter and absolutely dripping with (literally potentially lethal) sexual tension, all wrapped up in an entirely swoonworthy established relationship. The cocktail of soft and horny here is thoroughly intoxicating, and it’s so much FUN, with just the right hint of crack, and the ending makes me kick my feet in glee every time I read it (which has been, of my own volition, SEVERAL TIMES). LOVE.

Thrust Exercises by @nire-the-mithridatist - STRIP SPARRING. We’ve all said it but also oh my god STRIP SPARRING. WHAT A GENIUS THOUGHT. This is a fabulous combination of fun and sexy, and they’re so FOND in it, too--nire hits such a beautiful note of playful competitiveness and also a little shyness/awkwardness and a LOT of heat and, has been very correctly noted, a VERY wonderfully slutty Jaime. (Jaime’s premeditation regarding their wedding night is both very horny and very sweet/thoughtful, and thus very Jaime, and also his line about how he quite likes her loud face is right up there with my favorite love confessions, as well as being a thing that Jaime and I very much have in common. AGH SO GOOD.)

Second Chances by @firesign23 - I love me some JAB and the setup of this is so delicious, that Brienne is given a second chance at an opportunity she once turned down. This is another one where all three of them just LIKE each other so much--the J/B is so solid and lived-in and warm, and the history between Jaime and Addam is delicious, and the Brienne/Addam has that little thrill of newness and “oh my god we actually get to do this” (there is a kitchen kiss that is GOOD TIMES for me). So much trust and love here, it’s lovely.

crosslines, the scratches and stains by QuixoticChloe - One of two sex bruises fics in the swap, and SCORCHING hot. This whole thing has such a teasing vibe to it, and a sense of dirty discovery within an established relationship, and the whole “we’ve got a sexy secret and we’re gonna torture each other with it as much as possible” aspect was A LOT. Damn.

Diplomatic Relations by @eryiscrye - In which Jaime and Brienne get married and proceed to scandalize/delight/horrify the entire continent with their loud married sex. IT’S GREAT. It’s Eryi’s so you know it’s gonna be super hot, and she really touched on so many of the greatest hits here: cave sex, armory sex, water sex, quiet sex, alcove sex, SO MANY GOOD CHOICES and so much sweetness to go with them, too. And the other characters’ pained/pleased observations were hysterical. SO much fun.

Apart, Together, Together Apart by greenmtwoman - Oof, this one made my chest ache in the best way. It’s so soft and romantic and LONGING and full of equal parts Brienne and Jaime’s devotion to each other and devotion to their respective duties, which feels incredibly true to them. The way this story builds and releases and then slowly builds tension again is lovely, and it’s bittersweet, but very full of hope for their future.

left your fingerprints all over me by @writergirl2011 - Friends-with-benefits-to-dating, yessssss. The banter in this was adorable, and the connection between them was so palpable, and it was delightful to watch them finally acknowledge their feelings.

Good Long Line of Praises by @aliveanddrunkonsunlight - In which Brienne discovers that Jaime has a praise kink and we ALL get to benefit. Actually the praise goes both ways here, and the result is lovely--they take each other apart at the same time they’re holding each other very closely, and it’s a wonderful mix of sweet and sexy. Another established relationship fic that included so much joy of discovery built over a strong foundation.

Nights Avoiding Things Unholy by @forbiddenfantasies1 - I was lucky enough to get a sneak preview of this one and when I tell you that it has been living rent-free in my mind ever since... this is LUDICROUSLY, brain-cell-incineratingly hot, with so many delicious horny details, but also with FF’s trademark gigantic heart behind it (I feel like heart + hornt is basically FF’s brand and I love this for all of us). Again, you get such a strong sense that these two LIKE each other so much, even when they’re a little resentful and a lot scared about it, and the filth is so full of genuine affection that it makes it all the more devastating. I literally read this and was like “shit, I gotta up my game” regarding my own draft, lol. SO GOOD.

Light My Fire by @wildlingoftarth - While I fully respect and celebrate the union suit kink, I don’t have strong feelings about it, myself, but this fic made me a convert. The painstakingly sexy descriptions here were SO MUCH, and I’m also such a huge sucker for the slightly chaotic camp counselors vibe of this, that sort of euphoria and recklessness that overtakes you when something time-bound is about to end. The banter was adorable, there were so many moments that made me giggle, and of course it was hot as hell too and I’m very glad that these two dorks FINALLY figured it out.

Clothes (un)Make the Man by @aviss - CLOTHES-SWAPPING YESSSSS. I am such a sucker for that and Aviss delivered on it beautifully; seeing the progression of their relationship was so delightful and the feelings built so well throughout, and there were a couple of lines that made me laugh out loud, and, again, both the tension and the smut were super hot. LOVELY.

I’ll never let you go (if you promise not to fade away) by LadyRhiyana - This fic is going to HAUNT ME in the BEST POSSIBLE WAY. For one thing, I have checked the word count MULTIPLE times to make sure it’s not ten times as long because the world here is so vivid and so affecting that it’s like some sort of magic. I adore the setting here, and Cersei’s POV is spectacular--she’s all sharp edges and frustrated longing for the things she thinks she can’t have and I felt for her SO MUCH. Both she and Jaime are just incredibly, helplessly horny for (HOT MECHANIC) Brienne, and I loved the way that LadyRhiyana made it so clear that having Brienne there shifts the balance for Jaime and Cersei just enough that all their spikes can slide together a little better instead of just eviscerating each other all the time--and yet this happens without ever making it feel like Brienne is just a conduit or a means to an end for them; all three sides of the triad feel thoroughly distinct and important (including a very deft hand with the Jaime/Cersei aspect). It’s also EXTREMELY hot, and the Jaime/Brienne aspect has so much softness to it, and Brienne is so forthright and so kind and so curious, and AGH. I loved this.

a grip so tight I couldn’t tear it apart by @janiedean - The other sex bruises fic, and this one ended up (coincidentally, I assume) being a perfect bookend to the other one--if the modern AU is all about sexy secrets, this canon-based one is all about Jaime and Brienne’s pride in each other and joy in not having to hide their relationship, gleefully declaring their love and desire for each other for everyone to see. I was so happy for them!

with those who know secret things by @sdwolfpup - This has been recced widely and DESERVEDLY SO. The amount of CARE in this fic is overwhelming, and it’s full of all of these subtle details that suddenly come into sharp focus at just the right moment to really devastate you, and by you, I mean me. The prose itself is also gorgeous--the description of Brienne in her ad came directly for my throat (as well as some other places)--and it’s beautiful to watch these two surprise and delight and take care of each other. They’re both so GOOD and Jaime is so soft and vulnerable and Brienne is so kind and incisive and THEY LIKE EACH OTHER AND WANT EACH OTHER SO MUCH I CAN’T. The whole thing is lustrous and wonderful and I adored it.

Today Will Die Tomorrow by HNJ - This fic also DESTROYED me. The way the time shifts are handled so that we slowly put the pieces of the night together and feel the full impact of each moment, the understated delicacy and very obvious love with which both Jaime and Brienne are handled, the multiple lines that made me catch my breath with how TRUE they were, the way their love for each other uncurls and opens up to the light over the course of the story... it’s really gorgeous and just burrowed right into my heart. I also loved that this was a canon-based first time that focused more on Brienne not knowing what to do emotionally than not knowing what to do physically; I’ve read and enjoyed the latter a bunch of times but the former felt really fresh and fascinating; it was an excellent take.

Hush by @kiraziwrites - I have a thing for quiet sex anyway, and like everyone else, I will be suing kirazi for the fact that this fic left my brain a smoldering wreckage with nary a coherent thought left for the comment box. The sex in this is so deliciously varied and dirty and every bit of it feels somehow decadent and completely necessary at the same time, and watching their relationship build as they try each new thing is wonderful, and there are so many images in this that have burned themselves into the empty space where my brain used to be and taken up permanent residence. I could list MANY, but a sampling: the glacier comparison, and Brienne’s teeth-marks in Jaime’s jacket, and also Brienne DROPPING A CONDOM IN JAIME’S POCKET AND PROPOSITIONING HIM ARE YOU ACTUALLY TRYING TO END MY LIFE, KIRAZI. It’s also so funny and so fond and the fact that it’s literally exactly 5K is such a flex, I can’t even. Gah. TOO MUCH.

we used to wait by @it-may-be-dull-but-im-determined - I was reading things in update order and I kept thinking that I hadn’t read one yet that I could clock as jencat’s, and then kirazi was flailing about this fic and how beautiful the prose was and how strong a sense of place it had and I was like aha without even having read it yet. And this fic is indeed those things, as well as being sexy as fuck; Jen just drags the tension out and out in this very deliberate-yet-spare-yet-somehow-also-lush way until you want to claw your face off (and then she makes it totally worth the wait, too). Their relationship had some wonderful details, too, to show how well-matched they are--Jaime increasing the speed on his treadmill to match Brienne’s, rather than to exceed it, wasn’t what I was expecting and worked fabulously in this context--and the image of Jaime leaning against the wall at a crucial moment was SO MUCH. Whew. Just lovely.

The Waters and the Wild by LadyRhiyana - The last entry in the swap but by no means the least! This was another one where I couldn’t believe how much happened in such a short space; the descriptions were so vivid and cinematic, I could see the whole landscape unfold in my head, and it included some high-quality competence kink, too. We get just enough backstory to be fully invested in this version of Jaime and Brienne, including their delightful hidden-identity initial meeting, and the tension and affection and trust and frustration between them just simmers and simmers until it inevitably boils over and it’s incredibly satisfying. I also thoroughly adored the ending--including Brienne being as indignant as Jaime at [redacted]--and I would buy this movie so fast if it actually existed.

#jaime x brienne #jaime x brienne fic rec #braime #jb smut swap #hopefully i didn't forget anything #congratulations to everyone on a wonderful job!

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fellhellion · 4 years ago

Note

can you make a rec list of your favorite fe3h fics? if that's alright?

OF COURSE I WOULD LOVE TO <3 always happy to give my fave works a shoutout <33333

Though mind u this is going to be a LOT so ill pop them under a cut

from the heart in exile

TLDR: platonic hubert edelgard fic that haunts me. It’s extremely good with really well written character voices and focuses on these two characters trying to find out who they are beyond the war with their friends refusing to leave them behind

Summary:

You can’t speak just yet to whether time—and age? experience? not that war or rulership have given you much of the latter, at least in the area of gardening—has made your thumbs any less brown, but the house in the Oghma Mountains is surrounded by so many growing things it hardly seems to matter. It sits at the edge of a forest, on the gentle lower slopes, and the people in the nearest town had all smiled to speak of it when they pointed the way for Hubert, the day you arrived. A number of them were old enough to remember what it had been like, years ago, in the warm and golden before, and to insist that it had not changed in the ways that mattered. It was still full of light. The air still smelled green.

In which Edelgard keeps a garden, Hubert learns to fly, and those they leave behind refuse to be left behind.

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Watchtower

TLDR: platonic fic and amazing sylvain character study. Like genuinely one of the best i’ve ever read. If you’re someone who really wanted a deeper exploration of Sylvain’s feelings about Dimitri this fic is for u.

Summary:

When Sylvain is six and a half and climbs to the top of a tower with no one’s hand in his, he realizes that each and every one of the people he loves has been born as a gift to something else. Dimitri was born for Faerghus, and Felix was born for Dimitri. Glenn was born for the royal family, and Ingrid was born for Galatea and for Glenn. He realizes, too, that what they’re for decides their future. Dimitri will lead them into a better world. Felix will guide his path, and Glenn will protect his life, and Ingrid will bind her future to theirs.

And Sylvain, who was born for the border, will stand in a watchtower. He will see the enemy before it comes, and he will keep Dimitri and Felix and Ingrid and Glenn safe.

Dimitri reappears after five years. Sylvain knows it's his role to fix the mess they're in, but he doesn't know how.

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little light

TLDR: really good exploration of flayn and seteth’s relationship (+ with his wife and flayn’s mother) pre canon (also post canon if i remember right) just a really good if heartbreaking family fic

Summary:

"She is beautiful, and she is perfect. It is foolish to say so, because the goddess herself says perfect beings cannot exist - but Cichol knows now she must have been wrong, because his daughter is perfect. They name her Cethleann. In the old tongue, it means 'light.'"

Cichol, Cethleann, what they lost, and who they became.

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conjure the wind, ease my mind

TLDR: this author in general writes FANTASTIC work so pls check out their whole repertoire. a platonic fic between holst and claude w an exploration of claude’s past that’s just so good....found brotherhood i am WEEPING

Summary:

“I’d like to know what’s wrong. I’d like to help if I can.”

Calculating green eyes lock onto Holst’s own, but this time they’re laced with something a little bit like resignation

Many people call Duke Riegan a liar, but Holst feels like he knows the young man a bit better than that. To call him a liar is wrong, you see, because all Claude has ever really done is master the art of giving up as little of the truth as possible. He keeps truth close, treats it like a valuable commodity.

“I have three brothers,” he says. “Half-brothers.”

***

Claude won’t spar with Holst and Holst wants to know why.

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my fellow passerine

TLDR: same author as before and just...god this fic is so good. a platonic exploration of the relationship between Claude and Cyril. This fic has it all: found brotherhood, worldbuilding about Almyra, Claude character study, CYRIL character study. it’s just fantastic

Summary:

Then the Alliance delegation shows up, and their offering strolls through the gates of the monastery like he already owns the place.

A reminder, for those who need it: Cyril is not an idiot. He has good eyes and he uses them.

An observation, for those who want it: The Golden Deer house leader is Almyran.

Cyril knows a lot more than he lets on, Claude is far less covert than he thinks he is, and messing with the guy your parents told you was a possibly-unkillable demon-prince isn’t usually supposed to earn you a lasting friendship but hey… life is already pretty damn weird.

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Autotomy

TLDR: god this ferdibert fic just fucking...destroys me. i cannot get through it without crying at least twice and usually more. it’s basically a CF canon divergence with a heavy HEAVY exploration of ferdinand and hubert’s perspectives towards usefulness and how abelist thinking affects that in their efforts to find Shambala after Ferdinand loses his sight from one of Hubert’s experimental spells. All while falling in love. this fic is VERY fucking heavy, please mind the tags, it’s amazing but it’s subject matter is something you need to be very aware of. Also i would highly reccomend reading the prequel to this fic as it provides some critical context to Hubert’s actions that you don’t get through Ferdinand’s flawed pov. Basically this author is a master of character perspective.

Summary:

Ferdinand von Aegir's war record ends in 1182. The war does not.

Or, blind man's bluff.

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

Coming of Age

TLDR: same author as before and god...just my FAVOURITE ferdinand character study. Takes place within the period Byleth is away. I don’t want to spoil anything but it’s incredible. Mines the fantastic character drama hook between Edelgard and Ferdinand that canon DIDNT rip

Summary:

Ferdinand was a general. In theory. Edelgard had promised him continued command of his battalion, and a general needed a certain measure of wealth to supply his horses, his servants, his armor and rations and lodgings and, she’d promised.

But his father sat rotting in a cell, or worse, and it could be nothing more than a fable they thought him simple enough to believe. What did promises matter?

When the house of Aegir collapses around him, Ferdinand struggles to forge a path forward. He quickly discovers he can't manage it alone -- and neither, perhaps, can Edelgard.

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Another Life

TLDR: same author AGAIN (can u tell theyre my favourite fjsdhfk). Ferdibert fic, a man loving his partner and trying to figure out the best way to support them as they silently wrestle with questions about their gender identity is something that can be so PERSONAL and make u CRY god. also dark flier hubert my beloved.

Summary:

Ferdinand notices things. He cannot say what he notices, precisely, because he has no one to ask, and if he were to ask Hubert it would damn well result in every questioned moment up and vanishing forever behind a new wall of prickly austerity. Ferdinand cannot risk that. The things that he notices stick in his chest, and he thinks only, but.

Hubert wrestles with unasked questions; Ferdinand wrestles with a pegasus.

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Beneath the Sheets of Paper Lies My Truth

TLDR: Dimilix fic in my FAVOURITE fucking format of secondary in game historical sources exploring their relationship in retrospective.

Summary:

It was said that Duke Fraldarius’s grief at King Dimitri’s death was more potent than even the queen’s—but said by whom, and how, and why?

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A Fair Day’s Work

TLDR: Post CF Canon ferdibert where Hubert and Ferdinand’s overworked aides desperately try to get them together so they’ll be too busy being uhhhh AMOUROUS to give them so much work. Very much a romantic comedy with very fun OCs as our protags.

Summary:

“I may have some coffee in the place for you,” said Prime Minister Aegir. “Let me show you how much better I have become at brewing it to your taste.”

“If you insist,” said Minister Vestra but he sounded pleased. To Delarivier, who had literally made it her profession to attune herself to his tone (usually ranging from sort-of-murder-y to extremely-murder-y), Minister Vestra sounded very pleased indeed.

Ferdinand and Hubert's long-suffering aides figure out a way to work fewer hours.

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Roost

TLDR: Dimilix post AM Canon with some pre canon moments. Basically an exploration of the complexity of their relationship with bird symbolism and extra Holy Kingdom lore. Gifting ur lover a vulture is something that can be so personal fksdhfsjkd

Summary:

Dimitri makes an affirmative noise. Then he takes a breath, voice leveling out into what Felix had long ago dubbed his 'future king voice', all steady explanation: “Long ago, the saying fledged right along with the nobles' and royal family's love of hawking, and it has remained a common phrase from one generation to the next. As adviser to the king, the duke is meant to be regal and strong, even deadly when required, from his place at the king's side. To always act as the most piercing, watchful eyes over the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and her sovereign."

He looks over to Felix as soon as his mouth snaps shut on the final word, as always seeking approval on his recitations.

Felix tilts his head, trying to look unimpressed. “I like eagles.”

A hand automatically comes up to cover the lower half of Dimitri's face, muffling the inarticulate sound of a snort of amusement. “That is good, since you are to be mine.”

***

They say an eagle watches over Fhirdiad.

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A faint and faraway sound

TLDR: Ferdibert with an excellent Hubert centric character study....just so good...makes me warm and fuzzy...the mutual pining and ROMANCE of it all

Summary:

Hubert learns to be a person, with a lot of help and complication along the way.

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In golden light

TLDR: A really REALLY good ferdibert fic with ferdinand centric pov that focuses on him reflecting on his life as he prepares the Aegir house to become a boarding school. Ferdinand sibling exploration is ABOUND here and it’s great

Summary:

When his family's summer home at Lake Aegir is set to be converted to a boarding academy, Ferdinand pays it one last visit and contemplates his complicated relationship with family, love, and legacy.

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one three four three four zero

TLDR: the fic that actually got me into dimilix. VERY heavy character study and you NEED to mind both the general fic tags and the content warnings the author lists for each chapter but it’s incredible. Takes a very familiar trope and just. slams you in the face with over 60k words of amazing character study.

Summary:

“How are you going to get the One-Eyed Demon of Garreg Mach, the Boar Prince of Faerghus, smuggled past Dukedom soldiers? What plan could you possibly have to get a creature that incapable of even pretending it isn’t a bloodthirsty beast into Dominic without getting caught?”

The Professor gives him one of their steady, unreadable stares. They definitely do not and could not possibly have answered him, “You’re going to pretend to be married to him.”

or, How to Pretend to be Married When One of You Can't Stop Hallucinating and the Other One Uses Hostility to Cope

#Anonymous #ask games #anon #this is so long SORRY LMAO

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