#oh well i just had to mention it at least

[m0llygunn]

a job well done (eddie munson x fem!reader one-shot)

summary: long-term admirer, recent tutor — you find out eddie's failing gym. in an ode to help him, your expertise expands beyond just textbooks — to your fortune, he teaches you something you've been dying to learn too

contents: 18+, smut!!!, porn with plot, lots of ball action <3, oral (m receiving, mentions of f receiving), pet names and praise (baby, good girl), somewhat-inexperienced!eddie, tutor!reader an: i made an $8k mistake irl so heres 8k words that i wrote to forget about it (just kidding (not abt the mistake, that's very real) i started writing this in july 2023 but recently rewrote most of it to make it into a big ol' one shot-ish thing) wc: 8.5k

“You’re failing gym?” you gasp, jaw dropping as your eyes scan over his report.

“No!” he replies, trying to steal the envelope and its contents from your hands. You turn your body just in time for him to grasp at nothing but air. 

You started tutoring Eddie about a month into the semester. He’s been a willing participant for the most part and that’s why when he kept coming up with excuse after excuse for why he didn’t have his midterm report you knew something was up. 

You took it upon yourself to do some investigating. Nothing invasive, just when you got to his place for a regular tutoring session, you decided to look through his bag while he was in the bathroom. On his bedroom floor, filing through the bags endless messy contents, you eventually came across the familiarly coloured yellow envelope and helped yourself to a peek at what he was keeping a secret from you. 

Mere moments later, he was back. He immediately noticed what you had in your hands and crashed to the floor trying to get it away from you. Evidently, a failed attempt. 

“You have a — oh god, not just a D, a D minus, Eddie.” 

“That’s not failing,” he mumbles under his breath. You wave him off before dropping his report to the floor in front of you. He grabs it, crumples it into a ball, and petulantly tosses it to the other side of his room. 

“You never even told me you were taking gym.”

“Cause how’re you supposed to help with gym?”

“The tests! There’s a whole health portion, I could’ve been helping you with that,” you say, getting worked up over it. Eddie’s been doing so well, this was truly blindsiding.

“Yeah… cause I really want help from you with the health portion,” he grumbles sarcastically. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means exactly what it sounds like it means,” he shrugs. 

If you weren’t paying attention, you might think he was angry — maybe even being mean. Luckily, you’re always paying attention to Eddie Munson, and you see the way his face flushes to a bright, crimson red. His annoyance is actually just embarrassment — which is good — at least he has some level of remorse for his failing grade. You can work with that. You take a breath, exhaling it slowly, forcing yourself to calm down. 

“Show me what you’re working on.”

“No,” he shakes his head, reaching into his bag, shuffling around some papers before tossing a heavy textbook your way. “Let’s just do math.”

“No, you have a B minus in math now, that doesn’t need help. You need help in gym.” you reply, tossing the textbook back at him. 

“I don’t.”

“Eddie, you do.”

Sitting up to your knees, you reach into his bag once more, taking out his binder and dropping it to the floor in a pointed thump. He mumbles some kind of disagreement, spine going stiff with his hesitancy to let you go through his stuff some more, but he doesn’t make any attempts to physically stop you. 

You flip through the disorganization that you’ve told him countless times to organize until you come across a diagram of a penis and a vagina. Bingo.

“Told you,” he mumbles, scoffing to himself. 

“Told me what?”

“Why would you want to help me study that?” 

“Uh— cause it’s part of your class and I don’t want you to fail,” you say matter of factly. “Believe it or not, Eddie, I like you, and your success translates to my happiness.” 

Bright red continues to flourish across his skin, affecting the apples of his cheeks all the way down to his throat. He turns bashful, eyes locking down on the carpet. 

Eddie’s shy — not often, but he is. You wouldn’t think so from the way he acts at school and in most public atmospheres, but get him in a room, one-on-one, and he’s all blushed cheeks and shy touches. It’s sweet and it’s one of your favourite things about him — but you don’t have time for sweet shyness right now. He’s failing gym for christ sake — gym.

“So, how do you want to do this?” you ask, slapping your hands to your thighs. Eddie startles, jolting before his wide eyes find yours. 

“Do what?”

“Study this,” you motion to the diagram on the floor separating the two of you.

“I— I’m not… we’re not—“

His eye contact goes rogue again, diverting anywhere else — everywhere else that isn’t you. Shy, shy, shy. Too shy. More shy than normal. And you have an inkling that it has to do with the subject of the conversation at hand. 

“Oh my god, Eddie. This is basic human anatomy. I think we’re grown up enough to handle a little penis and vagina,” you state, tacking on a laugh. 

You get a hint of Eddie's true personality beyond his shyness — it emerges through a quirk of his lip, the corner of it tweaking upwards into the hint of a smirk. 

“A little penis?” He parrots, his smirk fully emerging now. This boy.

“Cue cards? Should we do cue cards?”

He groans, body deflating. “You know I hate cue cards.”

“Okay, so let’s just go over the parts for now, then we can move on and do something else.”

You clear out a bigger area on the floor, making space for your study session. Eddie helps by kicking back stray articles of clothing and then picking out what looks like spilled weed from the carpet and collecting it in the palm of his hand. You’re a touch more productive, taping little pieces of paper over the diagram labels. When you’re done, you sit up admiring your work. Eddie stands, dropping his little handful of greenery onto his desk before sitting down on his bed. 

“Do you want to do it up there or down here?” You ask. 

The slight double entendre isn’t lost on you, you heard it before you even said it. Now knowing how shy Eddie is about this stuff, you couldn’t help but push your luck, and the blush that spreads across his cheeks makes it entirely worth it, especially while you deadpan and pretend you have no clue. 

“I’ll come down there—“ He says and you watch him physically recoil as his words set in. You resist your laughter. 

“Come, Eddie. Faster,” you tease, laughter starting to bubble up. A smile breaks through his embarrassment.

“Jesus Christ, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? You like seeing me suffer?”

“Me? Teasing you on purpose? Never.”

With a shake of his head, he joins you on the floor, leaving a large gap between the two of you. “Can we not do this, I already know this stuff.”

“Oh yeah? Eddie Munson is well versed in human anatomy?”

“I’m — I’m not going to answer that,” he crosses his arms. 

With a clap of your hands, you ignore his pouty demeanor. “Okay! Let’s just do this, the quicker you memorize everything the quicker we can not do this.”

With both of the diagrams set up, you give him the option of starting with the penis or vagina first. He chooses the easy answer, opting to go with the penis. 

One by one you point out each part of the penis, asking him for the anatomically correct name. You quickly understand why he’s failing. 

“Okay, and this one is…?”

“The head,” he states. 

“I mean… sure,” you nod hesitantly — “but the little arrow is pointing there — the glans. This one?”

You continue going through the chart, teaching Eddie the proper names for everything. When you finally graduate to the diagram of the vagina, Eddie is physically squirming in his spot. 

“Eddie, relax. Seriously. We’ve all seen a vagina before.”

“It’s so fucking hot in here, are you hot?” He groans, standing up and tripping his way to the window, slamming it open with a grunt. 

He’s barely made his way back before you have a thought.

“You’ve seen a vagina before, right?” 

He freezes — just for a moment, but you catch it. On his way to return to his spot on the floor he pauses, then continues moving as if you haven’t asked him a question. When he sits, you quirk a brow. 

“Yeah!” He answers. His voice tunes so high, it begs to crack.

You nod skeptically. You wouldn’t say he’s lying per se, but something seems off. Something that you’re interested in getting to the bottom of. 

“Let’s take a break, okay?” You offer.

“Yeah, a break’s, uh — good.” He exhales, letting out a breath of relief. He tugs at the collar of his shirt, fanning it in and out, getting some air flow on his skin. It’s very suspicious and you have to assume —

“So, you’ve never seen a vagina,” you say.

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “I have! I’m not a virgin.”

“You’re squirming like one.”

“I’m not!”

“There’s nothing wrong —”

“I’m not!” He says much louder, cutting you off. 

You believe him, seeing the full depth of sincerity in his amusedly large, and overly serious eyes. 

“Okay,” you nod.

“I’m not,” he insists once more, tone leaning towards stern. 

“I believe you, Eddie.”

The two of you sit quietly in your respective spots. You could busy yourself with getting some more studying stuff ready, but somehow — even though there was some verbal finality — this conversation doesn’t seem over. 

And with an inhale from Eddie, it’s not.

“I’ve just never been like…” he pauses, thinking, “I’ve just never been all up in there.” He makes a crude motion with his hands, both palms splayed out flat in your direction, moving outwards like he’s spreading something out. 

“You’ve never eaten a girl out before?”

“What are we doing?” He says, dropping his head into his hands, scrubbing at his cheeks with both palms. 

“You don’t have to answer. Seriously, if I’m really making you uncomfortable, I’ll stop. Swear.”

His chest inflates with a deep breath, then his head pops up. “I have but only for like a minute, in the dark, parked outside of the hideout after a gig,” he confesses. You raise your brows, surprised.

“You work quickly. A minute, that’s impressive.”

“No… Jesus, no,” he winces. “I fucking wish. We got interrupted and… yeah she never wanted to hang out after.”

“Oh,” you hum. “That sucks.” You tilt your head at him, frowning apologetically. 

“Yeah. She, uh, I’m pretty sure she had a boyfriend but I didn’t know when we… yeah.” He concludes his confession with a shrug before sitting back to lean against the side of his bed. 

“That really sucks. Sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, tacking on a laugh. It’s not a nervous laugh. It’s genuine and you take his lack of nervousness as permission to continue the conversation. 

“So… Do you have a tactic?”

“Tactic?”

“Yeah. Like, most guys use the alphabet on the clit thing, which is awful by the way, don’t do that.”

“I think…” he raises his brows. “I think, maybe, just being overzealous is my thing. I don’t really know — I haven't done it enough to have a tactic.”

“Overzealous is good…” you nod, “as long as it’s strategic.”

Eddie meets your gaze. He’s intrigued — “Elaborate?” he asks. 

“Like, sure if you want to go to town and eat the pussy, go for it, but the only place it really counts is the clit — of course everything else is nice too, but the clit is definitely where it matters,” you nod to yourself, punctuating your statement. “And—” you add on, raising your hand, bringing together two of your fingers to mime the curling motions of getting fingered. “I like when they use their fingers too. It's a lot better like that.”

Eddie goes silent. He looks like he’s thinking, maybe even committing your words to memory— but it’s an odd look he has on his face. One you’ve never seen before from him.

“Sorry, did I say too much?” You laugh, trying to diffuse. Eddie looks at you, shaking his head in amused disbelief.

“Why the fuck are you tutoring me in going down on a girl right now?” He laughs. 

You smile, appreciating his amusement. Tilting your head boastfully, you accept his comment like a compliment. “Just a natural born teacher, I guess,” you tease. 

He nods, humming agreeingly. He doesn’t say anything more but you’ve got a handful of curiosities burning through your back pocket, and when in rome…

“Are we done with this conversation,” you ask, “or can we keep going ‘cause I might have a few questions for you?”

“Hasn't this whole conversation already been an interrogation of my experiences?”

“But this might be your only opportunity to teach me something, Edward.” You jet out your lower lip, pouting it, rounding your eyes at him — trying your best to keep this going. 

He rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance. 

“Are you about to ask me if I can move my dick without my hands, because the answer is yes but it’s not full control.”

“That’s not what I was gonna ask, but very cool.”

“Sorry. That’s usually what girls ask.”

That has been a curiosity but your questions… your questions are much more… sophisticated? 

“So can I?” you ask. 

“Can you?”

“Ask you questions?”

He bites his lip, pointedly making you sweat it out. With a dramatic sigh, he gives in. “Go for it.”

You sit up straighter, very pleased with his answer. 

“Balls,” you state. Eddie’s eyes widen immediately — you ignore the regret that flashes across his face. “Do you like them being touched? Every time I’ve done anything with them, the guy kind of, like, recoils and it feels like I did something wrong.” 

“Jesus…” he clears his throat with an awkward laugh. “You’re really going for the big questions, huh?” 

“The big questions?” You raise your eyebrows suggestively. 

“No, Jesus I’m not implying my balls are — holy shit. My balls are normal sized, that’s not what I meant.” He continues to laugh through his embarrassment, cheeks heating right back up to that very cute, bright, red colour. 

“I’m just teasing you, Eddie. I’m sure your balls are lovely and perfectly normal sized.”

He hums appreciatively but it gets stuck in his throat, coming out as a high pitched croak. He clears his voice, nodding as he raises a hand to the back of his neck, wringing it nervously.

“You don’t have to answer, but I would appreciate knowing,” you say, softly, sympathetic — leaning into apologetic. He nods again, and you can tell the gears are spinning in his head as he thinks over his answer. 

“They’re just… sensitive,” he swallows. “But… I do like them being played with, or sucked, or licked… or whatever.” 

His eyes focus on the far wall, not out of nervousness or shyness this time, but more like he’s giving his words some real thought. You appreciate it and wait patiently for him to continue. 

“I guess I would have to say that it’s personal preference, so ask?” he continues unsurely, eyes still focusing elsewhere. “I mean, no guy is ever gonna be mad if you ask to put their balls in your mouth — or… whatever you want to do with them.” He looks at you with wide eyes as he suddenly gets nervous again. You wave him off, letting him silently know that ‘balls in your mouth’ is not an offense to you.

“Could you cum from someone playing with your balls?”

“Holy shit,” he gasps, laughing. His hand that was wringing his neck drops to his lap in a heavy thud. At the same time, he brings up both knees, hugging them halfways to his chest as he mulls over his answer. “Um? Maybe? But, I think a big part of it is a visual thing — like, it adds to the hotness when they’re into the balls?” He finishes, adding an unsure inflection to the end of his remark. You nod, narrowing your eyes into a squint as you absorb what he’s saying. 

“So it doesn’t feel good?”

“It does,” he quickly corrects, “just anything on the head feels way better.” 

“Okay… good to know.” You nod, moving on. “And dirty talk. You really like that? Like, when the girl’s going on and on about your ‘big cock in her tight little pussy’, is it not weird?”

“Jesus, you really aren’t holding back with these questions.” He smiles through the blotchy redness growing down his neck all the way to the collar of his shirt.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” you promise, dipping your face lower to catch Eddie’s gaze. He holds it for a second, before letting his eyes roam the room. 

“Dirty talk is hot, obviously, but… it’s not when it’s rehearsed shit like that. It makes it feel like they’re performing — and maybe I’m just doing a piss poor job and they are performing — I don’t know, but I’d rather hear about what you actually like that I’m doing. Even if you’re telling me to go faster or harder or whatever. That’s fucking hot.”

“Alright, so be genuine. Cool,” you nod. 

“You done with questions?” He meets your gaze with raised brows for a fraction of a brave second before quickly looking away. 

The thing is, you’re not done. 

“So, hypothetically, if someone you didn’t like played with only your balls, and it wasn’t hot— like nothing about it was hot, would you still cum?”

He doesn’t give you the same surprised initial shock as he did with all the other questions. This time he just lets out a long, evenly staggered breath through puffed out cheeks. 

“I think…” He hugs his knees closer to his chest, rubbing both his palms along his shins quickly, filling the silence with the sounds of skin on denim. 

You can see the edge of his words in his expression, like he wants to say something but is holding it back. Whatever it is, you wait patiently — you do sit up a little straighter though, eagerly leaning inwards, listening with baited breath to his quiet, pensive hum.

His lips twitch, mouth opening then closing. With a loud exhale, he lets go of his shins, letting his knees drop from their upright position, and with that, his resolve breaks.  

“Fuck it” he curses — “Probably. Sometimes I think that the wind blowing the wrong way could make me cum. Like, I’m fighting for my fucking life to not get hard right now.”

He ends his speed-run confession with a pant, chest shallowly heaving with each breath. Excited wings beat inside your chest, dipping down to your belly as you absorb what he's just said to you. 

“Really?” you ask, blinking wide eyes at him. His breathing evens out, and he meets your gaze.

“Yeah,” he shrugs shyly — cutely.

“You know I like you, right?” 

His face falls. “What?” His brows press together, furrowing with confusion and you really don’t know how you could have been clearer about this whole ordeal.

“Eddie,” you smile. “I’ve told you like a million times that I like you — like earlier, I told you barely an hour ago before we got started.”

You said it quite plainly too; ‘Believe it or not, Eddie, I like you, and your success translates to my happiness.’ 

“Yeah, but I thought you meant as a… a person? Or a friend?”

You can’t help but laugh — not at him… well, a little bit at him, but this is just so ridiculous, how could he be so clueless. 

“I love my friends but I don’t think I would fill all my free time teaching them math and all the anatomical correct names of the different parts of the penis.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, they’re good people but that’s not exactly my idea of fun,” you tease. “Of course I’m serious, Eddie. So if you wanted to make a move… I wouldn’t be opposed.” 

At this point, after a confession as straightforward as that, you’d hope for movement — anything — even him getting closer to you, moving in for a kiss at the very least… but he stays sat in his opposite spot, his binder with the vagina diagram laid out flat, separating the both of you. 

Maybe you read this wrong — backpedal. 

“Did I just make this weird? Should I have not said that? I like tutoring you too, I don’t want you to think I’m expecting something from you just because I’ve been helping you.” You ramble apologetically, shrinking into yourself as you feel your whole body start to flush with icky embarrassment.

Eddie’s spine goes rigid as he sits up pin-straight, shaking his head emphatically.

“No! I like you too,” he interjects, leaning towards you, putting a hand on your knee. “Even before you started tutoring me.” 

“You do?” You sigh a breath of relief. Meeting his eyes, you smile sweetly, ignoring the whiplash that still has your stomach pinched in a half knot.

His voice gets soft with his confession — “Why do you think I didn’t want to sit around looking at penises and vaginas with you?” he laughs quietly,  “I was terrified of getting hard and scaring you away.”

The mention of him getting hard has your eyes flickering downwards for a split second. You can’t tell, but you tease him anyway — “And how’s that working out for you?”

“If you’re asking if I’m hard…” He trails off, smiling nervously, leaving you with a confirmed suspicion. 

“Should I make a move?” 

“Well, I’m not opposed.” He says it like it’s a joke — you know he’s being funny, breaking tension or whatever, but you don’t laugh. You perk up, tummy filling with fluttery feelings because that’s permission.

Permission to crawl the short distance between the two of you.

Permission to help yourself to his lap — pulling your skirt up high enough to straddle his upper thighs.

Permission to let your hands feel from his shoulders, down to his pecks. 

Permission to be this close to him — close enough that you can see every shy detail, every cute freckle, every nervous flutter of his lashes. 

Best of all — it’s permission for an intimacy you’ve been waiting for — longing for.

You sink yourself against him and — “Oh,” you gasp, “you weren’t kidding.” 

Through the thin cotton of your underwear, you feel the hard curve behind the zip of his jeans. It has you biting your lip, holding back your grin. 

His eyes coast your features, narrowing in on the tweaked up corners of your lips. He ghosts a quiet ‘yeah’, dipping his face downwards, hiding his own coy smile. 

You just won’t have that — you bring your hands to his cheeks, tilting his chin upwards, encouraging him to look at you. He lets you guide him, lets you wash your gaze over his features — lets you rake your eyes over every detail, even when his skin grows pink and you know he wants you to be looking anywhere else.

But you can’t help it. The rosy tint to his cheeks looks too warm, too inviting. His lips are just too pink, too bitten. And most of all, his eyes have become too deep, too capturing, especially when the usual gold in his brown has resolved to being just the thinnest ring, glinting and shimmering around absorbing black orbs.

“Your eyes are really dark right now,” you observe aloud. 

“Yeah?” He asks and you nod your head. You watch him as he lets his own gaze search your face. He swallows, coming to his own conclusion. “You just looked amused.”

You smile. You are amused but — “I’m not just amused.”

“No?” 

“I’m also really turned on.” You feel it in your belly, multitudes of warm winged flutters, sitting low, radiating heat throughout your whole body. You lean in closer, watching intently as his brows rise, moving to hide beneath his bangs as he processes your second confession of the evening.

“You are?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Want to know what I’m thinking about?”

He swallows thickly, and that golden ring in his eyes gets the faintest bit thinner.

“I do.”

You sit more comfortably, bringing your hands back to his chest and letting your bum press fully to his thighs. He lets out a near silent groan as your front sinks to his and when you adjust your hips, his hands dart to your sides, holding you tightly. 

“First,” you smile, batting your lashes at him. “I’m thinking about kissing you.” A soft swoon washes over Eddie's face, eyes turning soft for you. His eyes blink down to your lips, but you have more to say. “I’m also thinking about your balls in my mouth.”

The softness steps back, shock taking over. “Jesus christ,” he curses yet again, drawing out each syllable in a low groan. 

“And since I’ve been sitting here, I can’t help but think about how your cock would feel inside of me.”

“Fuck.” He meets your gaze, eyes rounding, jaw going slack. His chest begins to rise more rapidly, his breathing growing heavier. 

The feeling of him between your legs is undeniable now — he’s hard, very hard, uncomfortably hard. You let your hands slide up his chest, to his shoulders, letting your fingertips graze along the warm skin of his neck. He blinks heavily, eyelids growing weighted, swarming with evident lust. It makes you excited, makes you want more. 

You lower your voice to a breathy whisper, leaning in closer, letting your lips graze the shell of his ear.  “How’s the dirty talk, Eddie? Am I doing good?” You purr. His fingers pinch into the flesh at your sides as you shift once again, rolling your hips just enough to feel that hint of pleasure between your thighs. 

Eddie stifles his moan. “S– so good. You’re doing so g-good,” he stutters. His breath hitches as you press a kiss to the edge of his jaw, and then another, moving downwards to his neck. 

“What are you thinking about?” You pull away, looking at him through your lashes. You barely have a second to react before his hands are on your jaw, tugging you into him. 

It catches you off guard at first as his lips mash to yours. It’s entirely overzealous, bidding his earlier statement true by multiple definitions. It’s not terrible, but it is desperate. 

Flattening a heeding palm to his chest, you pull away just the slightest bit, letting your lips faintly graze his. 

“Slowly, Eddie.” you whisper. 

His interrupted desperation manifests as a quiet huff against your lips. Regardless of how hard he is beneath you, and how badly he wants to mash his mouth to yours, he nods, noses bumping together as he does.

This time you lean in. You guide the kiss, moving slowly, tenderly, and he follows your lead, moving gently, catching on quickly. Your upper lip presses between both of his and it's so delicate, so earnest, that it makes your heart thrum. It's exactly what you needed, and you reward Eddie with a quiet hum, letting your hands wrap behind his neck, pressing your chests together. 

His breath fans over your skin as he hums back, letting his hands glide to your lower back, hugging you closer. His lips massage yours, slowly, and he takes his time, letting you melt into him entirely. 

When you feel the pressure of his tongue licking across your lower lip your anticipation really sets in. You open your mouth, rolling your hips upwards as you move in closer to him. With a huffed, eager grunt, and with fingers kneading bruises into your skin, he licks into your mouth completely contradictory to it all, still giving you softness in the kiss. You’re elated by it all, swept up, enraptured by him being so sweet to you.

You sigh breathily as you have to pull away. 

“That was really good,” you fawn, dropping your head to rest against his shoulder. You let out another sigh, smiling contently to yourself. You’ve been wanting to do that for a long time — really too long, if you’re being honest. 

Eddie hums an agreement. You intend to go further than just a kiss, but you give yourself a moment to bask in it all. Just a moment, that’s all you need. 

And in the next moment, with your wits gathered, you wiggle your hips. Eddie’s palms press tightly against your back and he lets out a sharp gasp that melds into a whimper. You giggle a quiet apology. 

“Too much for you?” you tease.

“Nuh-uh.” He shakes his head, his warm cheek pressing to yours. “M’just really hard right now.”

He is — you can feel it, and you can feel the mess growing between your own thighs. 

A simple solution; you hint at rolling your hips another time. It’s hardly any friction, just testing the waters. You’re surprised when Eddie pulls you inwards, guiding your hips, encouraging you to move. He lets out a low groan as the squish of your thighs pass over his length, one that you hardly register over your own gasp as you get your first real hint of pleasure.

With his help, you build a slow rhythm, grinding to the curve in his denim, one that has your eyes fluttering shut and Eddie tensing, letting out meak whimpers and low moans. It's nice, it really is, but as nice as it feels for you, you weave a hand between the two of you, suggestively placing it on the buckle of his belt.  

“Can I ask you another question?”

“Yes,” his voice comes out as a heaved breath. Very eager to continue.

“After you cum, how long does it take for you to get hard again?”

“Sh-shit — it depends. Sometimes —” he swallows thickly and you hear the gulp in his throat — “sometimes it’s barely a few minutes.”

“I want to try out what you taught me, but I want you to fuck me too.”

“We can — yeah we can do that.” His voice wavers as he bites back his excitement, trying to play it cool. Despite that, you feel the overzealousness in his pants, twitching with enthusiasm. 

You press a chaste kiss to his lips before scooting back on his legs, weaving your hands between the two of you to pop open his belt. Just as you unweave the leather and toss the heavy buckle to the side, holding the button under your thumb, Eddie’s hand meets your waist — not stopping you, just getting your attention. 

“Can I…” he starts. You look up at him, pausing your movement. He continues, “can I try what you told me too?” His eyes barely meet yours, growing bashful all over again. 

“Of course you can,” you say sincerely. You finish unbuttoning his pants, tugging the zipper down while leaning in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You don’t gotta be shy, Eddie. I like you already, a lot.” 

He nods, but you can still see a hint of cautiousness in his expression. 

“I’m serious, Eddie. I want you to be comfortable with me. Anything you need, anything you want, you can tell me.” 

He nods. His mouth mulls for a moment, but he nods a second time, assumedly coming to a conclusion. “Can we move up to the bed?” he asks. 

“I’d like that,” you smile and he smiles back.

Just as you lift your leg to get off him, you let out a surprised yelp as he does the bravest thing he’s done yet, both hands grabbing firmly at your bottom, tugging you into him and up as he pushes himself off the floor. He moves the both of you up to the edge of the bed with one strong flex of his legs and your stomach swirls with the rush of it all. 

From there, it's a giggling tussle of limbs, him pulling you up the bed, you pulling his pants off. Eventually, you both settle, him pantless, sitting with his back to the wall where his headboard should be, and you, by his side, knees pressing to his thigh. Your fingers wiggle with excitement as you take the thin cotton of his boxers, lacing them just under the waistband. 

You shimmy in your spot, shaking your hips, letting out a happy hum as you begin to pull them down. Your belly fills with good nerves, butterflies, and your mouth salivates. When you get them down as far as you can without his help, he silently chimes in, lifting his hips, hooking his own thumbs into the material. With a quiet humph, the fabric passes his length, freeing it to bob against his shirt-covered belly. 

Tempestuously red. Furiously flushed. Severely erect. Poor Eddie. Happy you. His tip is blushed to a deep crimson, glistening with the pearlescent sheen of precum. It has your body flushing hot everywhere — from your cheeks all the way south to where you grind yourself down onto the backs of your heels just to feel a pinch of salvation. 

Somewhere between where your ogling started and where you had to physically swallow the gathering saliva in your mouth, his boxers got discarded entirely, your own shirt disappearing along with them — because it is just so hot all of a sudden.  

If you weren’t completely blinded by your impeding tunnel vision, you would have seen the way Eddie gawked at your newly revealed skin, absorbing every inch, taking in every feature to your body. You would have seen the way his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat and the fresh cherry red blush spread to his cheeks. You would have seen the way he had to forcefully peel his eyes away from your chest when he felt your fingers press into his bare thighs as you situated yourself between his legs. But you didn’t have a chance to notice all of those details, not when you felt the thrilling thrum of anticipation bubbling up in your bloodstream. 

“You ready, Eddie?” You ask, grinning at him. He blinks slowly at you, no answer, making your smile falter.

“You look pretty,” he blurts out, much to your delight. “Really pretty. All the time — not just now because you're about to — you’re just beautiful, s’what I want to say.”

“Thank you,” you say, pleasantly surprised. Eddie on the other hand, cringes at his own rambling, face scrunching in defeat. You like him even more for it — “I think you’re beautiful too, Eddie,” you smile. “And not just because I have your pretty cock in front of me.” 

Eddie huffs a soft laugh and you gleam, pleased with yourself. 

With actual consent, you take him in your hand. Gentle at first, easing him into your touch. Just barely grazing your thumb over the tip, you smear the slick precum around, before sinking your fist to his base. He lets out a tensed moan, exhaling — exhilarating. That quiet, throaty noise has you lighting up, already feening for more.

Leaning down further, arching your back, you gather your saliva in your mouth before letting it spill out in a single string over the tip of his needy head, falling down just to be caught by the upwards rise of your fist. This time he sucks in a sharp breath and you live for it. 

Closing the distance between your mouth and his cock, you lick the tip gently, pressing your tongue to the river of precum that sits in the curves of his slit, relishing in the saltiness that makes your mouth water effortlessly. You hum, feeling the pulse between your legs grow deeper, more intense. You push your hips back, angling them, searching for any sort of relief. 

While it doesn’t satiate the need between your thighs, Eddie notices your squirm, and brings a splayed palm to your side, letting it curve to your skin. It settles in, warming you, encouraging you to distract yourself in such a beautiful way by taking him into your mouth. 

You let your tongue swirl. Flick. Caress. Your lips graze before closing, and you suck. Cheeks hardly hollowing, the noise he lets out makes you want to keep being gentle — draw this out, make this last. 

But like a devil on your shoulder, you want to skip forward. You want his balls in your mouth, that’s the guise of this whole encounter, isn’t it? To practice what he’s taught you.

Jumping right to the chase, abandoning his desperately swollen cock, doesn’t strike you as the way to go about this, so you continue to be gentle. Pulling off the tip, kissing him up and down his length. Pressing your lips where needed and drawing circles and lovey hearts across his skin with the pointed angle of your tongue.

It's not fruitless. Every noise, every groan, every heavy breath, pleading whimper, fills you up. It fills you up until it has you leaning your body into his hand on your rib cage, needing to feel him wherever you can, while taking him fully into your mouth. Swallowing him down, deeply hollowing your cheeks, gliding your lips and flattening your tongue until your nose presses to the wispy patch of coarse hair at his base. 

“Fuck— fuck.” Eddie groans through a strangled breath. 

His hand leaves your ribs and you whimper at the loss, only to be reunited with the physical contact as he takes hold of your head with both of his hands, pulling you up. You whine, chest collapsing with defeat. You pout as soon as his cock leaves your mouth. Looking up at him, he looks worked up and frayed — all a shivered mess — but eyes sincerely apologetic as he catches your disappointment. 

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting that.” He pants heavily, catching his breath while you catch your own. Your pout lessens, and instead, your pride sets in. You did that to him. 

Wiping your gathered tears, you place a tentative hand on his length, watching him for any protests. His head knocks back into the hard wall, but he never loses sight of you, now looking down the angular slope of his nose, watching with amorous, lusting eyes. 

You dip down, reapproach, but this time you give into your own desire, indulging yourself.

Lifting his cock, you nose down his length. His eyes turn wide, but still, no protests.

“Can I put your balls in my mouth?” You ask, doing just as he told you to do, embellishing your simple sentence with pleading, fluttery lashes and persuasive, pinched together brows. 

His lips press into a purse as he swallows, and then they part with approval. “Yes,” he says. You watch as his tongue swipes along his plump bottom lip, and you can’t help but smile up at him. 

Appreciation sits on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t say it, you show it. Bowing your face low, you lick up the centre of his sack, flattening your slow moving tongue with an oath of sincerity — this makes you burn. For a moment, you believe that you’d be content if this was for you and you only, but then you meet his gaze, and you see the way he burns too.

His eyes devour you — your hand wrapped around his cock, thumb barely touching index, your chin settled deep between his thighs. You burn identically and it makes the swirl of butterflies in your stomach rise high, beating heavily in your chest. You get lost for a moment, but a thumb on your cheek, sweetly swiping softly against your skin, brings you right back.

“Pretty girl,” he hums. 

You tilt your head, nuzzling into his grip, humming a tender thank you. His thumb swipes again, just under your eye before settling behind your ear, sitting there with no intention but to be tethered to you.

It’s sweet, and you return the gesture, pressing two kisses, one to each side. You shift your focus, returning back to the moment.

Head still partially in the clouds, you do something daring without thinking, and you suck one of his balls into your mouth. Eddie lunges forward, bending at the waist, nearly folding in half as his stomach tenses harshly. He whimpers, and you pull back immediately.

“Sorry!” You shift, looking at his contorted expression. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

He quickly relaxes himself, patting your cheek as he settles, unclenching his thighs that had tightened at your sides.

“No — no.” He shakes his head, catching his breath “Do it again.” He gently guides you back down. “I was just distracted, caught me off guard,” he explains.

Distracted like you were. You understand, and you let him guide your face back down. 

This time you’re careful. With his eyes on you, you start again, licking, feeling the silky skin with your tongue as you gauge his reaction, peering up at him through your lashes. He nods, and you carefully take him into your mouth, letting your tongue roll cautiously along the velvet skin. 

You’re careful not to do too much, but you grow more confident when you see the way his mouth falls open with his own appreciation. 

“Fuck,” he exhales. “Just like that. Good girl,” he praises, groaning as you suckle delicately. His cock jumps in your loose fist, reminding you just how long it's been since you’ve paid it any attention. Tightening your grip, you run your fist up, then down languidly, multitasking in a way that has Eddie gaping, jaw slack, mouth parted wide, eyes owlish and filled to the brim with heated astonishment. 

With your mouth, you switch to his other side, doing the same, rolling your tongue exploringly, seeing what has his stomach tensing and noises pulling from his lungs. 

As you let your thumb run over his leaking head, he lets out a throaty groan. His thighs tense around you once more, but instead of backing away, you lean into it, embracing the new-found way to make him squirm. 

His breathing quickly becomes rapid as you take more of him into your mouth, sucking more confidently, and pulling away every now and again to press deserved kisses. Your fist moves quicker, focusing on the tip — purposeful, as you remember what he taught you. 

You suck, and glide your hand in smooth strokes, over and over, showing him just how much you like him. If he didn’t believe you before, he has to now. 

With a strong, devoted rhythm built, the skin against your tongue eventually begins to pull taut. He throbs in your hand. You know before he says anything, even before his hand can flex its grip on your cheek. You pull away, letting him fall from your mouth with a quiet pop. He lets out a worn sigh of relief as you sever the threads of spit from your mouth to his balls and shift, moving back to his wired-up cock, twitching at just the sensation of your breath on his over-flushed tip.

Rearranging yourself, you sink your fist, moving it low to his base, and then you adjust, moving your hand to cradle his balls in your palm. His stomach flexes and he lets out a pitiful whimper — he's so close, even while you're barely touching him.

“Please,” he rasps through a strained breath. 

You have nothing but appreciation for the man in front of you, reduced to pleading. You want nothing more than to satisfy him.

Gentle, a thing of the past. You take his cock in your mouth deeply. Swallowing his thickness down, taking him as far as he fits, pressing him to the very back of your throat. Your eyes water, and you breathe heavily through your nose, never once forgetting to massage him in your hand.

His chest heaves, and his fingers weave their way into the hairs at the base of your neck, tugging — communicating. His helpless moans draw out, getting longer and deeper, drawing out each and every flutter in your belly, adding to your fire. 

You can’t believe you’ve been sitting around, tutoring him, teaching him math when you could have been doing this. This is much better — much, much more fulfilling. 

You rise and fall, bobbing quickly, and he encourages you, helping you find the pace that brings him to his edge. He swells in your mouth, and draws upwards in your hand. You hum, encouraging him to let go.

“I’m gonna —” he tries to speak, but a rogue whine cuts him off. He sucks in a sharp breath — “I’m cumming, I’m —” Panic invades his voice as his grip in your hair turns harsh, pulling, stinging your scalp. You hum again, and then you feel the spill. 

The warmth of his cum invades the back of your throat, loading your senses with the distinctly musky taste and a bitter-flavoured swell of sweetness in your chest. Pleased, you swallow it down, and ask for more with the purse of your lips on his overworked tip. His hips buck up into you as you happily swallow everything you can, lapping it up with your appeasing tongue. 

His body relaxes until you don’t stop. Then he’s flexing again, sucking in harsh, gasp-like breaths, using his hands in your hair to guide you away from his over-sensitive cock. 

Both his palms cup your cheeks and you rise, straightening out your spine, walking your knees up the mattress to be closer to him. His hand falls to your knee, encouraging a bend, welcoming you back into his lap. You happily take a careful seat on his thighs. 

“Holy fucking shit,” Eddie gushes unapologetically. 

His body slouches into the mattress, but he continues to beakon you forward. You follow his weak, weary pull and he guides you to his lips, attaching his mouth to yours in a lazy kiss. His beholden tongue greets yours, unaffected by the lingering flavour of his seed that coats your lips and mixes with your spit. He devours it gratefully. 

“That was —” he starts, pulling away just to peck your lips again — “So, so— I don’t even have words.” His hand slides loosely across the expanse of your bare waist as he presses a frenzy of chaste kisses to your lips, making you giggle.

“I did good? I thought I hurt you for a minute.”

“No— shit, you did so good, baby.” Eddie hums, fondly pressing his cheek to yours as he hugs you closer.

You feel his praises blaze at something inside of you, thrumming through your bloodstream, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t highlight your own neediness, the one left abandoned between your thighs. 

Despite the restlessness that grows in your twitching hips, you try to relax, focusing on the sentimental feeling of the rise and fall of his chest, letting your body slink into his, fitting seamlessly against him until his breathing returns to a steady rate. You patiently wait for him to make the next move — especially after him letting you lead most of this evening. 

Just as you’ve let your eyes flutter shut, resting them for a peaceful moment, a kiss to your shoulder has your excitement kicking up in your lower belly, waking up those warm, winged creatures once again. He presses another kiss, and then another, following the slope of your shoulder. Down the curve, to your collarbone, high on your chest, kiss after kiss until his lips meet the plumpness of your breast that spills over the cups of your bra.

The swell of your breast, across, to the centre, his lips find your sternum, and you keen into it, unafraid of coming off as desperate. 

It’s barely anything, just innocent pecks, but it has you impatient, tilting your head back, curving your body to offer up more skin to him. He hums a warm tone, affectionately following the path of your sternum, nosing his way down your cleavage, sighing a deep, warm breath against your skin, adding a few extra heated degrees to your body temperature — you thank him with a breathy moan.

His hands move to your sides, tickling along your flesh, leaving goosebumped skin in their path as he traces along the band of your bra, fingertips gliding until they meet the clasp.

“Please,” you whisper, biting your lip as he finger paints small swirls along your spine. You push yourself closer, needing more.

And he gives you more. The band tightens around your ribs as he finds the edge, and you hold your breath.

One clip comes undone easily, granting you a hint of relief. Two follows, leaving just the third hook stuck standing between you and the promise of pleasure.

Then he stops — worse actually — he doesn’t just stop, he completely abandons the clasp on your bra as his head pops up, nearly clipping the edge of your jaw. He pulls you flush to his chest, tucking your head to his shoulder.

It surprises you, making your heart pound for an entirely different reason.

“What—” you begin, but his heedful palm spreads across the plain of your upper back, halting your question, making you pause. Unsure and curious, you turn your face, pushing against his grip on you, trying to see what’s wrong.

His face is contorted into a flat, focused look as his eyes fixate on the closed door of his room. You’re totally confused by what has pulled his attention, but then you hear a clatter from the living room of his trailer. You turn to look at Eddie. 

His eyes pinch shut with disappointment. “No,” he groans, dropping his head to your shoulder in defeat. 

“Is that —”

“My fucking uncle,” he mumbles into your skin.

“Oh,” you say quietly, trying to fight the unresolved neediness of your body from turning you into a slouching ball of disappointment.

“He's not supposed to be home yet,” he groans, and it comes out huffed, like he's annoyed, but you know it's not directed at you. Part of you is relieved to hear that upset edge in his voice, because you know how easy it would be for most boys to shrug it off when they already got what they needed.

His palm swipes across your back, rubbing it in a soothing way before he pulls away, finding your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. 

You shrug, it's not like this is his fault. “It’s okay,” you promise. 

“It’s not.”

You smile. “It is,” you say, delighted by his sincerity. “This just means we’ll have to pick up where we left off another day.”

“But you didn’t get to cum.”

True but — “I still had fun.”

He dips his face, chin bowing downward, bitten lips jetting out with his generous empathy. “I’m sorry,” he says again, and you giggle at his niceness. He might be more upset than you are, and you love it.

“Eddie, you know me,” you grin. “You said I did a good job, and there’s nothing better than the satisfaction of a job well done,” you beam, and you’re very pleased when you get a good chuckle from Eddie.

“Next time?” He proposes with a raised brow.

“Next time,” you agree.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

merci buckets hope you liked if you did make sure to hit! that subscribe button and leave a like down below (aka comment and reblog <33333)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

[ybklix]

LUST

☾⋆⁺₊ pairing: OT8 x fem!reader ˖⋆࿐໋ 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔: Lee Minho plans a little getaway with his closest friends, their wives, and you, his girlfriend and most adored and prized possession, right after he intentionally reads your private diary and leaves him wandering with your writing about something particular.

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆 — 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: MDNI 18+, smut, cuckolding, mention of age gap, cheating, est. relationship, pet names, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, daddy, dreg, corruption & praise kink, impact play, handjob, oral sex, fingering, clitplay, boob play, slight roleplay, gangbang, double penetration, bukkake, unprotected sex, creampies, cumplay, & more !! ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦ ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦ word count: ~15k

ʚ⁺˖ 𝔴𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 ˖ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ (𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 '𝟮𝟰) ₊˚🕯️♱‧₊˚. 00: THE INTRO

main masterlist ; taglist ⭑.ᐟ

a/n: happy and spooky october! my very first kinktober event! (and ot8 lmk what u think:3) i tried to put a tiny plot lol

“I decided to take a couple of days off, well, starting with this weekend at least” expressed your boyfriend calmly, turning the page of his book, disinterested.

You sat up, turning your body to see him and slightly loosening the grip of his arm over your shoulder as you lifted your head from his chest and watched him happily and confused.

“Why is that…?” you asked him with a smile on your face.

Your eyes sparkled and Minho, your boyfriend, saw them directly, causing him tenderness, you knew there was something about him, you noticed something different from the first instant since you knew him so well, it was the first thing you noticed in the morning, but for some reason, you didn’t ask him and now you felt like you were about to know the reason.

“I just… want to relax, I haven’t done that in a while, even before my birthday” he expressed, with his typical tone that you knew so perfectly, that there was something more in-depth in his short and simple answer.

Also, he wasn’t the kind of guy who brings up the topic of his birthday and doesn’t seem fazed by surprises.

You squinted your eyes for a moment and watched him, every faction of his perfect, chiseled face, watching him closely and you knew what a lousy liar he was, Minho wasn’t making eye contact with you all of a sudden and was about to burst out in nervous laughter.

“It’s okay love” you finally replied, genuinely happy for his decision, “you know how happy it makes me that you take these breaks and be with me, it’s to be with me, right?”

He smiled warmly at you, tenderly showing his front teeth and hugging you again as he finally closed his book. You melted at his expression and countenance, you really loved every part of him. You were both there, on a quiet Sunday on the couch reading placidly, Minho sitting and you lying on his chest, enjoying each other’s warmth and company. But in a way, he was a little unsettled and you hadn’t noticed that yet since he was acting so natural and calm.

“Of course I do, honey, I adore being with you… I’ve planned to go to the cabin, shall we?”

You nodded happily, pulling your face closer to him.

“I love the idea…”

And before you could kiss him, he spoke again saying:

“And have the boys come with me…”

Minho blinked suddenly waiting for your answer, but you pulled away from him a little and quickly thought that’s what all the mystery surrounding him during the day was about.

“Oh, you’ll go only with t…”

“No love, I want us to go, them and I thought I’d invite their wives.”

You didn’t know what to say for a moment, you just stared at him for a few seconds and you could think that it was his cabin anyway, his own property and he could decide what to do with it at his own will, so you just smiled, deep down a little disappointed because you had already got the idea into your head to spend a weekend alone in the relaxing forest with your boyfriend, an activity he really loved; but you respected him a lot, absurdly a great amount that you used to be so modest with him to what led you to be submissive to him, something you have discussed previously, in that you may have different opinions and you were more than free to express everything with him, yet you didn’t know exactly why you couldn’t accomplish it. You loved the cabin, it was so spacious, it was literally a big house, the landscapes were beautiful and Minho had it very well kept as it was like his own sanctuary. There was this idea that if he didn’t have to be a civilian and functioning adult with a job in the city, he would live in the quiet of the forest without thinking about it, but it was a few hours outside the city and its access was not so easy. He always offered you his cabin as a way of escape for inspiration in your new work, but he was busy all the time and couldn’t stay with you there, causing you fear and uncertainty to be alone in the forest so you just politely declined every time.

“It’s okay, Minho, it will be fun” you replied kindly, giving him a quick kiss anyway.

You felt the softness of his lips for a brief moment, thinking about that homely, adventurous, and manly side you loved about him, he adored his typical ‘man activities’, being outdoors, camping, fishing, building things, giving you instructions when you didn’t know how to do something he knew almost automatically like fixing a car, putting together a piece of furniture and all those little things he took care of, sighing softly, every now and then letting out an aghh in a whine and looking at you with his big eyes in a falsely disapproving joking way to continue to help you anyway with all his willingness and affection, all those small and simple actions in huge contrast to how you met him, so formal, academic and modestly. You loved him so much and he loved you too.

“I knew you’d like the idea, princess. Do you want me to buy you a new wardrobe to go into the woods this time? It’ll be cold and the last time we went it was summer…”

Your cheeks turned warm quickly, something about him spoiling you too much, buying you and giving you everything, absolutely without whining and you without even having to lift a finger, still caused you some shame, you wanted to earn it, you had been unemployed for months now after graduating, but Minho was supporting you and he used to tell you that you shouldn’t think like that, you did work hard, in writing your new book… but simply, you didn’t manage to finish it. He has given you everything and so many opportunities that even the slightest thing shocked you, despite your already long-standing relationship.

“I’ll see what I can buy myself…” you wanted to emphasize the words buy myself, implying that you would use the money they used to pay you from time to time when you sent the manuscript of some chapters.

“Buy all you want, use my card, dear” he sentenced with a smile, “Do you want more coffee?”

You didn’t even reason his question and nodded somewhat stunned, the next thing you saw was your boyfriend get up from the couch to grab your cups on the nightstand before you and walk to the kitchen. You followed him with your eyes, you wanted to be so grateful to him in such a way that he could feel it and touch it, he kept telling you that he knew you were grateful and that your final art will be a delicious reward for him, but sometimes you felt the need to do something for him… but you couldn’t think of something concrete, not like the things he did for you. You also thought, as you leaned your body back against the couch, how much he loved the cabin, and his 7 closest friends, so when he mentioned ‘the boys’ you knew exactly who Minho meant. You met them over time in your relationship, at reunions and birthdays, you got to be at the birthday party of Seo Changbin, Han Jisung, Lee Felix, Kim Seungmin, Bahng Chan, and the upcoming was Minho’s, you met the rest of his close group, Yang Jeongin and Hwang Hyunjin. Only four of them were married, Chan, Changbin, Seungmin and Hyunjin, and of those four, all except Chagbin already had children, about the others, you really did not know their love situation. But you also knew their respective wives and to be honest... They seemed to you, like women with eccentric but empty personalities, and it was not as if you took the time to know perfectly well Minho’s best friends, you only knew their occupations and their approximate age, all of them were older than you, even the youngest was a decade older than you.

Suddenly curiosity flooded you… why would Minho suddenly want so many people on his property, Minho was so reserved and enjoyed solitude, and his home being invaded by 11 people sounded so exhausting, even for you who hoped not to be the main hostess, you thought that he definitely had a reason and you wanted to find out what it was about. Minho on the other hand was nervous, it was more than obvious that there was a reason but he didn’t feel completely confident about sharing the idea with you… without you calling him sick. A very very sick man, invading your privacy and abusing your trust, but since just a few days ago the disturbing idea did not leave his mind and he wanted to act slow, seeing the result of his craziest thoughts.

๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⸙ ᨒ↟ ⋆｡°

“Do you want to say goodbye to our privacy for the weekend?” you mentioned cheekily, moving dangerously close to Minho.

It’s been five days already, since your boyfriend prepared each one of them with every little detail to go to his house in the forest and make a good impression as a host, with his closest friends and some of their wives.

He frowned in confusion, small dewdrops falling on his straight, short, dark hair, as he closed the back door of his SUV where he had stowed all the luggage.

“Huh?”

“I mean… I love fucking in the cabin with you and now we’ll be with more people around” you commented, pouting a little.

Minho chuckled, incredulously running his tongue along his cavity, amused by your comment, he looked so fucking good, his face just awake, still him in all his senses.

“God, y/n, it’s seven in the morning” he smiled amused with his hands on his hips, almost indignant, “You’re thinking about sex this early?”

You blushed, “Mmm, I’m kinda horny.”

“Wasn’t last night enough?”

You denied frantically, wrapping your arms around his body, “I can never get enough of you…”

Minho released a chuckle, returning your tight embrace, wrapping his strong arms around your lower back and drawing you into his body as an adorable but mischievous smile graced his pretty face and he looked at your countenance in amusement.

“Mmm, okay, but we can’t be late, it’ll be quick…” he mentioned in a low, thick voice, moaning softly in jest as he walked around moving your body trapped in his arms, alerting all your senses.

You were glad, you smiled happily moving the muscles of your face and raising your ears on the spot, being touched by Minho always put you in a perfect mood.

“We’ll be right on time” you replied, lost in the closeness of his face, lips, and soft chin.

“It better be because that fucker Seungmin is always on time.”

You laughed, somewhat stunned letting yourself be carried by his steps to the entrance of his home, where once inside, Minho pushed you against the door and took your lips passionately, surprising you a little, you tasted the fleshiness of his lips and his fresh breath from his oral hygiene just a few minutes ago, his left hand held your cheek while with the other he squeezed your waist tightly; you had dressed so cute and autumnal that your boyfriend had to kiss you after seeing you all dressed up, hair and make up done, dressed in your denim mini skirt, sweater and thin scarf while he was telling you in your ear and between kisses how cute you looked, how much he loved you and how you looked like a cute little doll like that, completely ruining the random lip combo you had chosen, he also got horny seeing you like that, with your mini skirt and such a candid look, getting even jealous for slight seconds that his friends would also see you like this every day, since you weren’t confident enough with them to walk around in your comfortable and loose clothes inside the home, so you had packed different and elaborate outfits with all your necessary makeup, Minho was heated halfway through your kissing session, but unlike you, he knew how to calm down and didn’t ask to do it right there, but it certainly left you wanting more, with your poor core muscles tingling restlessly, but you just watched as your boyfriend stopped, pretending to be shocked and busy, saying he had to get everything into the car and if you would help him, leaving you pining, but right now he was kissing you with much more intensity than a few minutes ago, his body was getting closer and closer to yours to the point where you could feel the hardness of the door on your back and the stiff denim of his crotch with his hard penis trapped in it, rubbing against you.

It took you small seconds to keep up with him, his lips and tongue moving nimbly across you and you couldn’t help but feel the typical tingle in your bottom, enjoying the moment and fantasizing about how much you love sex and intimacy with your boyfriend. It wasn’t something you used to remark on, but your mind kept spinning on how much of an expert Minho was with you, it wasn’t like you were the most expert at sex either since, after all, he was the first with you in everything and he was the only person you knew sexually, but he made you feel so great, he knew exactly where to touch you and how to drive you crazy, if that made you young and naive you didn’t care, you loved every moment of the day you got to explore with him, explore the endless desire and pleasure you had until you were panting after you climaxed so intensely.

Minho loved every part of you, he used to ignore the fact that you were younger than him and were slightly a doll to him, so moldable and manipulable to his desire, but he put that aside —or at least he convinced himself to do so— and was quite the gentleman with you, because he loved you, even though sometimes, most of the time, he notices the way you love to be treated a little rough in bed, driving him absolutely wild, fantasizing in all the ways you both could get to fulfill both of your fantasies. In fact, he notices every detail about you, it is inevitable for him not to be aware of you and to be deeply obsessed with you, your relationship started that way, with piercing glances from him to you in places where he should have been professional and kept his posture, but you were the fucking temptation in person, making his life miserable the time he couldn’t have you.

But now, he had you all to himself, all the time, every moment you both desired, Minho adored every inch of you, he praised the ground you walked on, he loved that you were his and taking you around as his most special person and his most prized possession and award, nothing took away his smug smile every time he held your hand in public, he adored possessing you so his deep kisses trapped every part of you as you felt the warmth of his organ separate from you to go down to your neck, gently pulling the thin fabric of your scarf, causing you to tingle and shiver but the feeling didn’t stop, as you suddenly felt his lips on your neck, breathing in your scent, kissing your skin, losing himself in the pure paradise that the sweetness of your being was giving him.

Minho took a deep breath, his libido on edge and his cock throbbing at your slightest proximity, he was losing his mind, he wanted to bite your skin, to revel in your sweet moans of his teeth mistreating your docile young skin but he held back, like a man aware in his senses, but lately he has been holding back a lot when it came to you, one part of him wondered why and the other knew exactly the reason, with a slight prickling sensation in his chest, Minho has been thinking too much about it.

“Fuck, bunny, I can’t fuck you right now, but I’ll be quick and take care of that needy part of you” he whispered into your neck, his heaving breath rocking you, “We can’t be late…. or, fuck it, do you want me to fuck you now?”

His right hand traveled from your waist to your pussy, cupping it for a moment, sending a pang of sudden surprise arousal through your body, you bit your lip, still with the feel of his on yours, with his taste and the madness it was taking you to feel the tip of his nose brush against your neck.

“It’s okay, Minho” you answered without thinking, and without even reasoning a single word he had said, you weren’t thinking clearly, your hormones were high, and you just enjoyed the pressure of his palm on your clit.

“Yeah, what?” he murmured in amusement, pulling away from you to stand in front of you, with a half smile, enjoying your docile expression of pleasure.

You looked up at him into his huge, completely dark eyes which watched you expectantly. You blinked to try to reason but he pressed his hand against your center again making you release a soft moan.

“We’ll be late…” you replied with difficulty, your face was turning red, you were starting to get hot, “You can do whatever you want…”

“Say what you want, now” he ordered, his sudden switch surprised you but you liked it at all, he sounded so serious.

“Can you take care of me quickly, please” you almost gasped in supplication.

“You just love when I make you feel good, don’t you?” he replied haughtily with a smile on his face, giving you a fleeting kiss.

Minho quickly slid to the floor, staying right at the height of your skirt, which he lifted it and his smile somehow got bigger as he saw you wearing tiny protective shorts under it, something in him quickly fantasized about the fact that you were not a bad girl looking for evil, you could be spontaneous and naughty and only wearing your underwear underneath, instead you were protecting yourself as you would be at least almost 72 hours along with more men.

“Good girl” he whispered, panting and mumbling, yanking roughly at your shorts and panties.

You watched Minho, glancing down at him from above, you couldn’t deny how incredibly aroused you were and of all the areas of your body that cried out to be touched, it was in more desperation your sweet throbbing cunt, you wandered between your thoughts and his lewd acts; if only you had ignored the fact that Minho had to receive his friends and decided to be completely filled by him, you would already be naked, pressed against his body as the two of you created more tension, as he prepared your body well before fucking you hard because Minho loves to have you so wet, messed up before finally inserting his well-endowed manhood into you, it was something so common with him, but no, instead, before you could even process it, your handsome boyfriend captured your pussy in his mouth, leaving you stunned and gasping, kissing your area dirtily and nimbly, his lower lip and tongue caressing your folds, labia and clit, his upper lip rubbing on your pubic skin, sucking finely. You thought about how much you enjoyed having him eat you whole and, that if he decided to do it with the same delicacy and passion with which he always gives you oral sex, you would only drag out your orgasm and that might lead you to fall behind with your journey, but you were so needy all of a sudden, that a little bit of your boyfriend’s magic and movements in your desperate spot was enough for you just now.

Minho looked into your eyes raising his gaze and did not take his mouth away from you, he closed it, daintily brushing his lips to gently kiss your mons pubis and moved towards you again, parting your folds and losing himself in your pulsing clit, sucking on it, not caring about your skirt in his mission, as it was tight enough to stay stuck above your hips. You intertwined your hand in his soft hair, enjoying your boyfriend’s warm cavity in your slick. Minho was equally or worse exasperated, so he couldn’t help but torture himself further and in one swift movement he unbuttoned his jeans with one of his hands and pulled his cock out, almost grunting with your pussy in his mouth at the sensation of his hard piece of flesh exposed, pumping in pleasure, he stroked it, filling his hand with his own precum and began to masturbate gently, while with you he remained somewhat rough.

His suction increased in intensity, making you let out a squeal and then bite your lip, his tongue was increasing in speed, his licks were more constant and deeper, you were building your orgasm magically, but you lost your mind as you felt his fingertips caress your folds and then run them more roughly through your wetness until they sought your entrance, teasing you with a single finger, then inserting two, effectively thrusting them inside you, you were a mess of sighs and heavy breathing but you let out an audible moan again as you felt his third finger in you and the gentle nibble of his teeth on your sensitive area.

You were both in bliss, his cock being stimulated by himself to orgasm but not missing a beat in you, finding himself multitasking as he satisfied you with his hand and mouth. You began to shudder, feeling the tense climax in every inch of your body, his fingers were filling you, his tongue licking you all over making incredible shocks of pleasure come to you as you looked into his eyes from time to time, his whole pretty face buried in your core as he struggled with himself masturbating. You gasped in exasperation as you moaned his name, you loved moaning his name, stroking his hair, watching him satisfy you. Your stiff muscles ached but your core was being divinely pleasured and without warning, you cum on your boyfriend’s magical fingers fucking your insides.

Minho pulled his fingers out to taste every part of you one last time, jerking his cock hard until he squeezed and expelled every drop of cum loaded in his sizzling arousal, groaning through his teeth as he ran his thick tongue naughtily cleaning every part of you, making you slightly restless again and hard to recover from your orgasm, because you knew it was a little provocative game Minho liked to play on you, but before you could become aroused again, he broke away from you, raising his face to look at you, his mouth glistening from you, smiling genuinely happy as if he had tasted something finely delicious.

“Go on, princess, go get cleaned up, I’ll do the same and meet you here at the front door to go, okay?” spoke Minho softly.

You were both agitated, but satisfied that you couldn’t have asked for anything better before starting your little adventure in the forest of which you had no idea what you were in for or about to do so in the meantime you kept calm about it, but the more you thought about it and the closer and closer you got to your destination, you were terrified of the idea of looking like an immature girl who was all the time next to her boyfriend because she didn’t have enough confidence with the rest of the people who would be there, because the more you thought about it the more absurd it seemed to you the matter or the reason for such a weekend. You tried to look on the bright side, but deep down you hoped it wouldn’t be a long or tedious weekend at all.

You two went to get cleaned up and returned with big smiles to get into Minho’s car and drive a little over two hours out of the city to officially head into the woods. You fixed your makeup on the way as Minho drove, gently squeezing your thigh as he gave you a smile and headed off on his way to his property, you returned the sweet gesture with a smile and excitedly, did your best not to sleep, talked the whole ride with Minho and had fun selecting music.

“Play something from IU, baby” commented your boyfriend watching you holding your phone to handle the music, then looking back towards the highway.

“IU…” you replied playfully, squinting your eyes and pouting at him, annoyed.

Minho laughed and the rest of the ride was so enjoyable, you were a little sleepy but it was enough for you to see the attractive profile side of your partner and suddenly you would blurt out something that came to your mind. But in moments of silence, when the music was the only thing that accompanied you, you thought about the situation, it was obvious that Minho wanted to spend some time with his friends and he would leave you with the wives of his best friends but… what the fuck could you talk about? You were a recent college graduate, your hobbies were so normal and banal to those of a young girl your age, but from there also came your uncertainty and insecurity that you would be judged and that they would think of you exactly the same but with Minho, if you are young and your vision or ambitions were oriented differently, then what were you doing with Minho, but it was an answer that you could respond surprisingly with the most cheesy and even childish words, but because you loved him, the support was mutual and that’s why you were with him.

“Maybe… this weekend you can finally find inspiration, sweetie.”

You hummed in response as you nodded softly as he interrupted your thoughts, but right after hearing that you went back to diving into them and the constant worry you had about writing something; Minho noticed your silence immediately wanting to remedy the problem.

“Oh, my dear, I wasn’t telling you that to pressure you, you have time, enjoy, I love you” he said worriedly, speaking fast and controlling his impulses to let go of the steering wheel to hug and touch you.

“Oh, it wasn’t that” you replied unconcerned and somewhat guilty that you made him feel bad, “It’s okay, I’m sorry, Minho. Thank you.”

All the things Minho did for you. Or at least you always thought so. You just wondered if you could ever give it back to him.

Some time later you arrived at his house, your excitement and nerves grew once the tires of his car passed through the forest dirt and on a cool, beautiful October morning, two lovers stood in front of the house you never thought held surprises for you.

The cabin, as Minho used to like to call it, looked the same as you remembered it the last time you went, in the summer just a few months ago, but the atmosphere was cooler, the sky was gray and it was adorned all around by the beautiful autumn color palette, it was cozy, it was absolutely all the essence of your lover Lee Minho in one property.

“I’ll take the things out, hon. If you want to sleep you can go inside, it’s all ready, the housekeeper left it spotless” he added, coming up to you to hug you and pin you against his car door.

“It’s okay. I’m not sleepy, really” you wrapped your arms around his neck, “Besides your friends could be here any minute.”

And just as you said that, you both could hear perfectly besides the sound of the wind and leaves flying, the sound a car driving up to your direction. You both turned your head to the left waiting for the car to show itself, until it did a few minutes later.

“Was he coming behind us and we didn’t see him?” added Minho amused, not releasing his grip on your waist.

You didn’t react, you were so comfortable with your arms on his shoulders that you both watched in anticipation as the car parked and the people got out of it.

Kim Seungmin. Just the person Minho had said would arrive first. Minho had all these characters as best friends. Kim Seungmin, superstar baseball player married to the model and creative director and manager of one of the most famous girl groups currently, basically she was a socialite and businesswoman, Jung Jisook, but better known as Kim Jisook legally taking her husband’s last name.

You felt the woman’s judging look as she lowered her Chanel sunglasses from her face, watching as you and Minho continued like two lovebirds cuddling. You felt bad for a small moment and slowly stopped hugging your boyfriend, who also gently pulled away from you to move closer to his friend.

“Fuck, Minho, I’m early again” Seungmin said suddenly, putting his hands on his hips falsely indignant.

“Nice to see you again, Minho, the house is beautiful and you have the lake for yourself, amazing. I want a lake house too now” added the woman happily, approaching your boyfriend to greet him, “Thank you for inviting us.”

“How are you Jisook? It’s good to see you too, and don‘t worry, my house is your house. How’s Jungmin?”

Jungmin, the Kim’s little two year old boy. You haven‘t met him yet.

“My sister is taking care of him by herself these days” Seungmin replied, “Why did you bring us here again?” he joked, “Ah, by the way, nice to see you again…. Y/n, I’m Kim Seungmin in case you don’t remember.”

You let out a giggle, you were absorbed by the situation around you that you had even forgotten to speak.

“Hello” you replied shyly, waving your hand, “Mr. and Mrs…”

“Seungmin, please” he interrupted you with a smile to which you nodded, he looked straight at his wife, waiting for her to do the same.

“Jisook” she replied despondently.

You bit your lip nervously, you understood and felt her slight disdain for you as before you, in Minho’s life there was someone else, his ex-wife Miyeon, who you were very much aware is still a close friend of his best friends‘ current wives.

“Well, settle in, make yourselves comfortable, Y/n will show you to your room."

“You seriously have rooms for everyone? That’s great” Jisook added, “Honey we should get something like that, wouldn‘t that be fun?”

“The forest at night?” her husband replied, “No thanks, Minho likes it because he’s a maniac.”

You laughed at his comment and waited for Seungmin to put their bags down. You watched him carefully, you had to confess that each of Minho’s friends had their own particular charm and, each of them were really attractive men. Seungmin had innocent looking, droopy-kind eyes, short black hair and a manly, elegant and slim build, with a clean and slightly boyish appearance.

You finally opened the house and led the Kims into the room your boyfriend had previously indicated. You saw Jisook inspecting the place as she walked in and somewhat awkwardly you were about to leave them alone when a “Thank you, y/n” from Seungmin stopped you for a second.

You didn’t know if you were crazy, if you were seeing things that weren’t but Seungmin’s tender and kind look at you changed for a second, his dark eyes were shining and you could notice how he subtly checked you out, somewhat mischievously. You smiled and walked out, frowning and wondering if it was all in your imagination.

But there were so many of their intentions that you didn’t know, Minho’s big little secret baiting you, you were the main attraction, the real reason for those men‘s stay at Lee Minho’s cabin.

You rejoined Minho outside the house, watching each of his friends arrive, taking surprise after surprise as you watched each attractive man walk through the door of the house behind you as you directed them to their room since that was the task Minho had assigned for you.

Next, Seo Changbin, who complained when he arrived and did not think he would be early, but it was all arranged by his wife who wanted to be near the lake; he was an aeronautical engineer with a PhD and a professor at the prestigious university where Lee Minho himself was also a faculty member; accompanied by his pretty model wife and owner of a women’s sportswear line, Seo Chaeryeong. Changbin, in addition to mathematics, loved to keep his image healthy and exercise, so his appearance was muscular and his eyes were so uniquely shaped.

Next, Lee Felix, arriving alone, something about him looked anxious but happy, he was a handsome, freckled, big eyed man with long, blond, dyed hair, he arrived confident with a blue designer suitcase, Felix was a programmer who worked importantly designing video games or something like that you understood from Minho. Right behind him came Hwang Hyunjin, a painter who owned galleries with his wife Vittoria, an exclusive interior designer, who had, together with Hyunjin, been involved in much of the cabin’s interior for years now.

Later at about the same time, Bahng Chan, owner of a boxing academy, which Minho attended, and chief of police in the city, together with his wife Miah, who you had no idea what she did but lived a good life with Chan. After him, Yang Jeongin, the youngest of your group of friends, editor-in-chief of a major fashion magazine, arriving with a huge smile and charisma, secretly being one of your boyfriend’s favorites.

At this point you were exahusted, you didn’t expect to see so many people all of a sudden, you had forgotten your social battery, but finally, your boyfriend’s best friend, Han Jisung, the handsome Han Jisung, producer and composer of major entertainment companies, could not be missed.

They were all, the house was certainly full, a few hours had passed and you were already starting to judge each one with a bit of your writer’s mind, but you decided to ignore it, letting yourself be carried away by the simplicity of the time. Minho had planned it all, cooking for you, getting together for lunch, setting up around the house so you could relax, you were having a good time leaving the fact that you felt highly judged by the four women older than you.

The first day went so well, you went to sleep with Minho kissing him sweetly good night but… the nightmare came the next morning, when your boyfriend distanced himself from you to spend some time with friends and you were forced to spend time with the eccentric and millionaire women, at first it went well, Chaeryeong, the youngest after you, invited you to run early along the forest, which you accepted, when you were about to do so, her husband was outside, preparing some things with the other guys, setting up camping tents because apparently they would be spending the night outside today and after she gave Changbin a quick kiss and started jogging, he gave you a half smile and you couldn’t help but feel watched again, just like the first day Seungmin did, in fact you have been feeling watched, heavy gazes on you.. but you thought you were starting to get paranoid, they didn’t bother you, but they confused you too much… why were they looking at you, as if you were in the spotlight and suddenly they wanted to eat you with their eyes.

You didn't give the matter a second thought, you came in from your little exercise, clearing your mind by jogging through the trees, feeling the cool air hit your face, leaving you breathless and in a cold sweat. You went back to the cabin, showered and dressed up again this time slightly more comfortable and natural, you thought you were going for a quiet afternoon, but your boyfriend forced you to spend the rest of the afternoon with the women in the town 40 minutes away.

You couldn’t believe it, there you were, in Hwang Hyunjin’s car while his wife was driving, you didn’t know if Minho was waiting for them to become your best friends overnight, but it was absurd… they were something unbelievable. You didn’t want to judge them as women blinded in the perfect life and glamour, but they were exactly that, you didn’t blame them, if you had the necessary money god knows how unbearable you would become too, but, being with other people, seeing the sunsets and the sunrise from a new perspective, all those little factors that were making you become yourself again little by little, you were inspired.

You arrived, spent a nice night under the stars and a campfire, eating smores, telling absolutely everything, each one was so talkative in their own way, you could feel why Minho appreciated them a lot, but the robots at their sides didn’t help them at all, you wanted to love them, you wanted to feel in the closeness and trust of women, but you had such neutral opinions about them, they judged with their eyes every time they laughed loudly and you understood that sometimes it was annoying, but not to be reflected that way all the time. The camping tents were in vain, in the end everyone went to sleep inside, that night Minho surprised you, being overly affectionate all of a sudden.

“Look at the view” he said, hugging you from behind, sniffing the smell of your hair as he pointed to the window.

Darkness and more darkness, only a pine tree being dimly illuminated by the light outside. You never stopped to think how scary it looked at night because you were all the time accompanied by Minho and you felt completely safe.

“It looks scary” you spoke your mind.

“It really does, a little bit” he spoke in your ear, turning you unexpectedly to face him.

You looked into his eyes, you understood exactly what was going on.

“I need you” he confessed to you.

Your cheeks turned pink, you were a little shy to have sex because it was so likely that they could hear you, in that case, Felix, Jeongin and Jisung who slept in the same room near yours.

“I don’t know, Min, I don't want to be vulgar and be overheard…” you expressed apologetically.

Minho’s mind spun around, vulgarity, noise, scandal, it was all he could think of lately.

“If you don’t want to do it princess that’s fine, but if you want to do it we can be so, so quiet” he whispered, seducing you as he brought his face dangerously close towards you.

You kissed him. And he got his way that night, it wasn’t like you refused either and, with a hand over your mouth, trying to cancel out any noise coming from you, you and Minho fucked that night. The forest was silent, your muffled moans and Minho’s withheld moans decorated that night.

๋࣭⭑๋࣭⸙ᨒ↟⋆｡°

The next morning you woke up without the silhouette of your lover by your side, you took a shower and got ready to go downstairs for lunch but everything was particularly quiet that Sunday morning, your last day of adventure.

You looked around a bit scared, it was as if there was no one else in the house, giving you chills, lunch was ready, at least yours, set on the kitchen island, but there was no one there, but suddenly Minho’s presence managed to scare you a bit.

“You’re awake, baby. Come, we’re outside, have lunch here with us.”

Minho spoke softly to you, giving you a kiss on the cheek and taking the plate of food, the glass and the cutlery to head towards the back area of the house where Minho had a sort of balcony or small living room outside to relax. You were glad not to be alone for a moment, but the strange feeling inside you returned when you saw that it was only his seven best friends sitting there. You felt the piercing gaze of each of them with every step you took.

“Hey, Y/n” Chan greeted you to which you smiled nervously, sitting down.

“Hi” you replied to everyone in general.

You just wondered where their wives could be and how seeing you there alone among them all was questionable, or was it just your mind making you think that.

You were a little shy, yet you dared to look at each of their faces, it really seemed as if they knew something you didn’t, they were hiding something.

The rest of your lunch none of the wives showed up and you felt so shy to ask, but none of them felt shy with you, questioning you down to the smallest detail.

You didn’t understand what was going on, but they did.

๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⸙ ᨒ↟ ⋆｡°

Finally back home almost at dusk, you couldn’t help but think about the way you met Minho and that maybe that’s one of the main reasons why you were getting disapproving looks from wives, you knew it was wrong, it wasn’t the best of cases but it happened, you released sparks and your love was born unexpectedly. You had met Minho in a somewhat unfavorable way, in your last winter at the university before graduating, Lee Minho was your professor. At first there was nothing but sighs and complicit glances that you thought were only coming from you, but you didn’t know you were driving Minho crazy and over time… it was inevitable, you got closer and closer to each other on winter break, he took you on clandestine dates, showed you his home, showed you his heart and a side of him that he didn’t think would ever come out again after his divorce, but by January he was already confessing to you that he had never flirted or fallen in love with a student… that the fatality of the situation was inevitable… but that if somehow you both had to try, you didn’t hesitate, at that point you were so immersed in him, everything had his name written all over it and it was perhaps because he was your first great love. You started dating secretly until you graduated and by June he offered you to live with him to which after thinking it over, you accepted and everything with you had been wonderful so far, everything could have been perfect if it wasn’t for your constant feeling of stagnation at work.

You looked at your boyfriend’s profile side and reenacted in your mind the slightly weird moment when he almost forced you to spend with his 7 best friends, you knew you shouldn’t take it that way, but all the women leaving and leaving you alone with 8 men was a situation you were left to think about… but you were so sweet and naive that you didn’t have the slightest idea of the thoughts that ruled the mind of the one you used to think of him as a sweet and tender lover, Minho’s thoughts.

Minho had a degree in languages, literature, in grammar, courses and postgraduate degrees in publishing and among countless other things that surprised you, his family owned a popular and old publishing house which only further developed Minho’s passion for literature and one of the things that made him fall in love with you was your sensual and unique way of writing, the way you chose the words to develop the perfect paragraph of whatever it was you wanted to put forward, the subtlety of your eroticism in words, for when you were both secretly lovers you used to write short stories from a compilation of these in a book he published under his publisher under a pseudonym you both chose, the thrill of something so morally wrong, the ephemeral and forbidden sex in his office, all that motivated you so much, but now he lived with a broken heart that you couldn’t find something concrete to write about so you could have your first book.

Minho saw you frustrated even though you tried to hide it, and on several occasions he witnessed how much you used to write in a notebook, by hand, to which he curiously asked you one night what it was about, to which you nervously answered that it was just your personal diary.

At first he didn’t care, he thought it was cute the way you still wrote by hand, when even he couldn’t keep that level of commitment, but one night, a Saturday night to be exact, a week before he proposed to visit his house in the forest, you went out with one of your friends leaving him alone, so he came into your office, really without any purpose, he saw the chair in front of your desk and remembered how tenderly nervous you were when he found out you had a personal diary, suddenly, curiosity invaded him: Minho knew he shouldn’t, that he was invading your privacy but he was so curious to know, he shared all his secrets with you, but how many of them you kept.

And then, he looked for your diary, finding it after searching, you had hidden it. He wasn’t going to sit down and read every page of your privacy as if it were the damned newspaper, he was just curious about what you were saying most recently, to which, that night, with his heart racing, he opened the journal and read, with a smile as he visualized your calligraphy on the paper.

I have had fantasies. I honestly don’t know why if sex with Minho is wonderful. It’s just… at first it was these dreams, so hot I’d wake up in a daze, with wetness in my panties, feeling it so real, but I’d forget them right away, they were blurry memories of this one and sometimes I just thought they were dreams where I recreated something sexual with Minho, sex on the couch, sex in the kitchen but, god, I sound like a perverted, sexually frustrated older woman in her declining sex life, but, I had this encounter, with one of Minhovs best friends ...

Minho’s heart almost stopped beating for a second and he turned pale when he read that, continuing in panic with the reading, almost wanting to close the journal and not thinking that it could be about what he feared the most, an infidelity. He read on.

… and I think from there, for some reason my subconscious has gone crazy. I was always a firm believer that dreams sometimes had meanings, sometimes they were random products of your mind… but the fact that you imagine even when you are asleep seems incredibly fascinating to me, I always liked dreams, even if they are nightmares, it’s just that, it’s an indicator that your brain never turns off even for a second, I don’t know, it’s something difficult to explain that fascinates me too much. The point is, I ran into one of his best friends while I was doing some grocery shopping and we had a nice talk and I couldn’t help but think how different he was from Minho but the way I liked him so much, he is so handsome, I must admit, he has an exceptional charisma and I think from there my fantasies have grown, I think he is the one I dream about.

Minho stopped reading for a second to look at your manuscript in disbelief. While thousands of not so friendly thoughts ran through his mind: who were you talking about? What the fuck was that all about? Did you like a friend of his? Who? What was going on?

For a moment I had the idea of writing about that, about a woman who frequently has fantasies about her boyfriend’s best friend, but I don’t know, I hope to elaborate and not fall into cliché, besides, what purpose can it serve? Will it be a book about infidelity? Am I unconsciously being unfaithful to Minho? I know minho is not like that, that if I tell him the idea and show him a draft he will be brutally honest and judge as a critic and not as a boyfriend, but I am so uncertain, what if he thinks it is something that happens to me, something I am somehow becoming very familiar with, or am I just overthinking it?

I talked about it with my friends, they told me it’s normal at the same time yes and at the same time no, they laughed at me saying that after all I just wanted to fuck his best friend, but then they argued something that left me thinking more than I already was.

First times and only loves. Minho is the only thing I know of love and I love him. But, it was also my first sexual relationship and my friends argued that it’s only because I’ve never tried another man other than Minho before.

I thought it was absurd, I love him, everything with him is great, the way he touches me and makes me feel, I can easily say that I want to be all my life with him, but the idea had already been embodied in me, they were right, he has been the only man, but it is normal that only sometimes I think what will it feel like to explore with more?

I don’t want to leave him, I love him, I don’t want to cheat on him either, but I’m young and I want to experiment. But I’m also young and I don’t think clearly.

The more Minho read, the more dizzy he became, the next thing, he was astonished, words written by you of an explicit description of everything you would like to do, or at least, everything you dreamed of with a man who was not him. You described him as stronger, firm and rigid fingers going through your core, strong thighs hitting your body every time he penetrated you… god, Minho read absolutely everything with frightened eyes, he wished he didn’t.

Curiosity killed the cat. Minho had stopped fantasizing about other women because with you he had it all… but your argument drove him crazy, he did have experience with more women, but for you Minho was everything, he didn’t know whether to be flattered or confused.

He knew it was wrong and he shouldn’t have read it in the first place but, the stunned left his body after a couple of days and something in him was ignited, the fact that you were so sexually turned on and wanted to try all kinds of sizes… his thoughts weren’t exactly sweet, he imagined your sweet face while you were being fucked, wasn’t that what you wanted and craved so much?

If you wanted to experiment with more men, why not do it with what he already knew and had full trust in.

The idea was unhinged and he didn’t know how to put it to his friends, until he said it, so suddenly and in a serious tone as he used to be, a simple and classic Minho, gathered in tranquility, he blurted out:

“Mmm, I think we should fuck Y/n.”

His friends looked at him puzzled, doubting if they had heard right. They knew how special you were to Minho, why would he offer something so insane? Or was it a joke?

It was a crazy idea, but in the end, they all agreed.

On the other hand, on the way Minho questioned you if you had felt good and if you had noticed the unhappiness and frustration on his friends’ faces about the marriage, you found it strange because you idealized marriage so much and expected it to be the most sacred thing, hoping that one day you could unite your life forever with his.

๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⸙ ᨒ↟ ⋆｡°

And then you were seduced to another weekend in the forest, you were happy as your writing had flowed so naturally and your boyfriend’s gentle proposal filled you with excitement again.

“Let’s go one more time to the cabin, finally without so many people” he mentioned to you spontaneously, while you were tending the garden in autumn as he gave you a resounding kiss on the cheek.

There you were again, but just as you arrived you got the huge surprise that you already had visitors.

“What is this? I thought we would be alone” you said to Minho before getting out of the car.

You weren’t upset just confused by his strange behavior lately.

“Relax, princess. It’s just 3 of my friends, they adore you, come on.”

Minho was quick to get out of the car. It seemed as if Bahng Chan, Hwang Hyunjin and Lee Felix were waiting for you. Again you felt inside you that feeling that they were planning and hiding something you had no idea about.

You greeted them. You tried to be okay but it bothered you that Minho was telling you half the things, or so you felt.

“Hi, Y/n, what do you want to do today?” greeted you sweetly Hyunjin of which you were a bit confused.

Minho gave him a withering look as you both walked towards the entrance. Everyone was nervous but tried to hide it.

“Campfire? Camping? A movie?” added Chan.

“Go to the lake with me” interrupted Felix.

You looked at them strangely because just a week ago your talks were still a bit formal, you didn’t talk much like you could say that with all the confidence, but you didn’t take it badly, you liked them, you saw the kindness of their intentions, or at least you thought so, they were nice men worthy of Minho’s love so, you liked them too.

“No” Minho replied almost annoyed.

“I’m fine, thank you, what can we do Minho?” you asked innocently.

You managed to raise the gazes of the other men, seeing how you sought Minho’s opinion on everything.

They remembered that moment in the backyard of Felix’s house where Minho summoned them when he told them about his crazy idea.

“She's… pretty and submissive, it’s cute, she seeks my approval but honestly I’ll could never be able to say no to her.”

“Too pretty I’d say” Changbin added amused.

Minho gave him a dirty look.

“And she asked you that she wanted to be fucked by 8 guys and you couldn’t say no to her?” joked Seungmin.

“No. It’s not like that, it’s just, it’s something I know.”

“Who in the world asks his friends if they want to gangbang his girlfriend?” provoked Seungmin.

“Shut your mouth, Seungmin, if you don’t want to participate then forget this” Minho spat.

“Oh no, I’m in” he quickly replied scoffing.

The rest of the friends laughed.

“Then why the fuck do you have to…” Minho was about to comment but was interrupted by Felix.

“What do you know, you said you knew something.”

Attention went to the freckled man but once as soon as Minho warmed up his vocal cords to respond, all 7 pairs of eyes focused on him.

“I read something from her, how she’s young and currently has been fantasizing about being with more men because…. shit, I don’t want to stir up your dirty fantasies, but-”

“As if this wasn’t dirty enough already” Jeongin muttered with a grin. Minho continued.

“… I’m the only man she’s been with, she has no other experiences besides me so, I don’t know, it came to my mind to give her more experiences, me, deciding with whom, maybe it’s fear so she won’t go and cheat on me with some idiot I don’t know.”

“Then it’s better that she cheats on you with your idiot friends, how thoughtful” Jisung spoke, joking.

But the idea that you were inexperienced flew in the heads of each of the men, they always wondered how Minho could have you, but now the most important issue for them was that now they could have you too. They were more than delighted.

Eight guys for you alone seemed so aggressive to Minho, so he divided his group of friends, Chan, Hyunjin, Felix and him on Friday; Jisung, Changbin, Seungmin and Jeongin would arrive early tomorrow.

The afternoon went fast. The men were so ready, but you had no idea.

During dinner, somewhat early, you felt Minho’s hand provoke your center under your skirt, caressing your thighs, squeezing your clit. You hadn’t thought about sex until Minho touched you.

Although you had to admit, seeing Chan always turned your cheeks red, because he was the one you fantasized about. Chan was so cute, he had a cute and contagious laugh, his face changed harmoniously every time he smiled, he was attentive, you got to know him a little more at the supermarket, when he had left work and was doing his shopping. But… none of his other friends were bad at all, if you looked at them in detail, it was hard to say you weren’t attracted to at least more than one, or all of them, you felt like a little slut but, you were young and they were handsome men.

After that, you tried to watch a movie, but after 20 minutes they all went outside with the weird excuse of wanting to go get some air, you watched them confused leave and you were just left with your boyfriend, sitting on the couch.

“Uh, it’s going to start raining, they should go inside” you said, suddenly remembering the weather forecast and the sounds of thunder falling recently.

Heavy rain was coming, and not just meteorologically.

“Y/n” Minho spoke softly to you, placing his hand on your bare thigh.

Your attention returned to him, you were turned facing the direction the boys had left a short while ago.

“Yes?”

Minho sighed, nervous, you put your hands on his back worrying immediately, you were about to speak but he said.

“I have this crazy idea, if you don’t want to do it that’s fine. Seriously, we can forget I said it…” you looked at him scared, every faction of his face lit up by the TV as the movie continued to play, “I want you to experiment more, I want you to be free to try other men.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, it was as if he had entered your head for a second, you turned pale. Minho looked into your eyes, his eyes were shining, they were bigger and pleading as you looked at him scared.

“You have every right to do it” he continued, “But I don’t want it to be behind my back or with any asshole. If you want to do it, that’s what boys are for.”

You looked at him puzzled.

“What?”

“You don’t want to have sex with other men? Isn’t that what you’ve been fantasizing about? Honey, I’m telling you seriously, you can tell me anything, your every thought and desire and I’ll see about fulfilling every one of them.”

You wanted to scream noo! Logically at those questions, but you kept quiet… how did he know so much? Is it true that after all Minho knows you so perfectly that he could now read your mind?

You bit your lip, your world was spinning thinking about what he was implying that you should have sex with his friends. He was right, you thought, the idea was crazy and you should forget he even said it.

But… was it true? Or were you dreaming?

A loud thunderclap made you a little jumpy. You needed him to be clear.

“Minho, I- … what do you mean?”

“That if you want to try more men and have sex you can do it now. Chan, Felix and Hyunjin are waiting for you” he replied slightly cooler.

You felt a cold breeze hit your skin. If you said yes… you were really going to have sex with them, if you said no, nothing will happen.

“Are you for real?” you replied in disbelief.

“I never joked for a second with you, my baby” he gave you a quick kiss on the lips.

You were perplexed.

“I know it’s hard to think about it, you can take as long as you want…”

“And if I say yes?” you replied uncertainly.

“Then you’re going to have the experiences you wanted so badly.”

The rain came down heavily all of a sudden. The boys went into the house giggling and slightly wet.

Your heart raced, you heard their voices and laughter approach and in the adrenaline of the moment, you responded.

“Yes, okay. I accept.”

Minho squeezed your thigh and smiled at you. The three men entered the room slightly wet with huge smiles plastered to their faces, you made eye contact with each of them and then averted your gaze, thinking that all this time they were here so they could fuck you.

You couldn’t hide the fact that this strange situation excited every part of you, but then you thought that two of them are married, but one of them is Chan, you were going to try him for the first time. You bit your lip, your mind told you that you should feel remorse but you were not the least bit guilty of being Hyunjin and Chan’s mistress for one night.

๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⸙ ᨒ↟ ⋆｡°

You prepared yourself. You were nervous, rambling about the situation that you even took a shower, went back to fix your hair and put on makeup. You knew it was just sex but your mind kept thinking about it, not the dirty act but, what it will be like itself.

Minho came into the room. You were ready, you wanted to look your best for the other men waiting for you downstairs.

“Are you sure you want to do this, sweetheart?”

A flash of lightning illuminated the dark forest. You smiled and nodded, letting yourself be escorted by your boyfriend.

Minho turned on the house lights. He set up the main room, pushed aside the small table to leave the spacious carpeted floor space clear.

The three men sat waiting for you, leering and hungry for some of your young skin.

You sighed and Minho led you to the front of them. From left to right, Hyunjin, Chan and Felix. The rain was still echoing outside as you heard your loud heartbeat even in your ears, you were aroused like you had never been before that you were even afraid to tremble from the excitement built up in your body.

Their appearances, the way they were different and sat differently, their respective looks towards you… everything made you shudder.

“Well” Chan spoke, ”can we begin?”

You nodded softly.

“You look beautiful, Y/n, by the way” Felix suddenly blurted out making you blush.

“Rules” warned Minho, ”we won’t do anything she feels uncomfortable about, as soon as she asks to stop or that she doesn’t like something, we listen to her, okay?”

The men nodded.

“She’ll love it” Hyunjin stated with a smile.

“Who do you want to start with, princess?” spoke Minho to you.

The question took you by surprise, Minho saw your innocent confused face.

“Oh… you can start with yourself and, teach us” whispered your boyfriend seductively, tugging at the hems of your sweater to take it off and leave you in your bra.

The thermostat was on in the house, yet you felt a sudden chill on your exposed skin.

Chan and Hyunjin bit their lip, one hand resting on their thighs as they stirred restlessly, uncomfortable from the large erection trapped in their pants. Felix averted his gaze shyly, but then stood in awe watching the spectacle.

You noticed the bulges in each of their crotches and yours began to throb, you thought how dirty it was, fucking four hot men at once, you had never had another experience beyond Minho and now you were going to have three more at the same time. You were wet and restless.

Minho pulled your skirt down, letting it fall gracefully to the floor, leaving you half naked in front of them.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful” Hyunjin murmured, finally stroking his erection.

“Take off her bra” ordered Chan in a thick voice.

You truly felt like a doll, letting yourself be undressed. Minho removed your bra and couldn’t resist the sensation of massaging your breasts with both of his two strong hands. You bit your lip.

“Shit, Minho, don’t touch her yet” Chan complained.

Felix watched you with wide eyes, scared but he was so excited, he wasn't sure if he wanted this, he was a little shy, but as soon as he saw you spread your legs and exposed you to the sun, he was ready to give you a little kiss.“Come here, babygirl” ordered the older one.

Minho slowly let go of you and you obeyed his action by moving closer to him.

“Sit on that end and start touching yourself for us, show us your sweet beauty, baby doll.”

You listened to Chan and watched as he pointed to the edge of the couch, to one side of Felix.

You almost moaned at the sensation of your slick fluids, you were so wet and the manly voice that was ordering you around was making you more and more sick. Felix watched you with wide eyes, scared but he was so excited, he wasn’t sure if he wanted this, he was a little shy, but as soon as he saw you spread your legs and exposed your glistening pussy, his cock throbbed and his mouth salivated, you look so appetizing he wanted to lick you whole.

The four men moaned softly at the sight of your exposed pussy as you pulled the fabric of your panties aside. You leaned back against the armrest of the couch and acting on a voracious instinct for pleasure, you looked down at your exposed intimate area and began to touch yourself, then looked up at the other men.

You massaged your clit, felt your slick and let yourself go, trying to hide your shyness. You watched each of them closely, Hyunjin and Chan’s slitted, piercing eyes, in contrast to Felix’s big, kind eyes, almost as cute as Minho’s, who was standing there watching the show you were giving his friends.

You moaned and closed your eyes letting yourself go, you slipped two of your fingers in and they became engrossed in the softness of your digits sliding into your wet entrance; their limbs ached, asking to be touched, while you enjoyed yourself, thinking that something else might be filling you right now. You quickened your pace without thinking, about to bring yourself to orgasm, but Minho interrupted saying.

“Stop” he walked over to you, squatting down in front of you, ”Kiss me baby, then show the boys how you do it.”

You looked at him confused. You were shaking, a mess, you never thought you would be this excited in your life. You took Minho’s lips who kissed you wildly, leaving you breathless. Then you felt yourself being taken by someone else, you stood in front of Felix and the man kissed you shyly, enjoying the act.

Felix’s lips were a different sensation than Minho’s, his timing, his tongue on you that you lasted some time with him, Felix was not able to control himself with you, he wanted you too much. But suddenly, a big hand grabbing your forearm and pulling you away from the blond boy.

Chan took you with ease to settle you on his lap, sitting right on his erection for your pussy on it, taking your hips, pressing you down as he kissed you sensually and made you grind on his cock. You were breathless, your pussy throbbing hard, again enjoying a different and greater sensation of his erection on you, his hands on your body and his lips and tongue exploring you.

When you came to Hyunjin you felt once again like a toy which was being passed between boys, but Hyunjin did not take you desperately like the rest, he took hold of your hand with which you had been masturbating and brought the fingers you were pleasuring yourself with closer to your entrance, to put them in his mouth and suck them erotically while he looked into your eyes.

“Mmm” said Hyunjin happily with a tender expression of pleasure, “You taste just as I thought, so fucking sweet, baby.”

Finally he took your face between his big slender hands to kiss you, his lips were fuller to the rest, his tongue was slow but skillful, you felt like you were slowly going to heaven.

You had the feeling that you were about to be destroyed.

Chan noticed how lewdly Felix was watching you while you had your moment with Hyunjin, Chan wanted to have some fun, letting the younger one decide first.

“What do you want to do, my little mate?” said Chan amusedly to Felix.

Felix swallowed nervously, looked at Chan and then returned your gaze to you. Felix said in an exquisite thick voice.

“Let me eat her.”

You shuddered. As you pulled away from Hyunjin. Your lips were already swollen, each one of them adoring your tenderly agitated expression.

“Okay” Chan spoke, biting his lower lip and licking them afterwards.

“Babygirl, come here, settle in.”

Chan took you by the hips again and sweetly gestured for you to position your body with your knees on the couch, given the view of your ass to Felix, your torso passing over Chan’s thighs and your face and arms reaching towards Hyunjin.

“Well, enjoy yourselves. You know what to do” you heard your boyfriend say.

You could imagine what this was about and it made you nervously worked up. Felix was the first to expose his cock, you turned your eyes towards him and could see him stroking his exposed member, to pull down your panties and settle in to bury his pretty face in your core, licking your folds and searching for your clit. You moaned as you felt his warm tongue on you and Chan ran his large hand down your bare back enjoying the view, his hand was gentle but it burned in every part he touched you, you were lost in pleasure, you were reaching levels of arousal you never thought you were capable of feeling.

Chan sought your entrance and teased it with his fingers while Felix kept pleasuring himself on your pussy, you began to shudder and lose strength.

“Fuck” muttered Hyunjin excitedly at the pornographic scene of his blond friend licking your pussy and your submissive position.

Hyunjin pursed his lips and released his cock as well. His was right in front of you, it was big, erect, veiny, its pink tip was covered with his white precum. You felt dirty but you loved every second of it.

“Come on, sweetheart, you can take it.”

You stopped looking at his cock to look him in the eyes and then lowered your gaze again. You moistened your lips and took it between your hands, it felt so good, Felix kept stimulating you and Chan started playing with your breasts while still caressing your back and ass, squeezing it hard at times. You licked Hyunjin’s glans and when you opened your mouth wide to take his hard cock fully, Felix thrust his thick tongue inside you, teasing you uncontrollably. You gasped with Hyunjin’s big cock in your mouth, Felix was stimulating the rest of your cunt with his free hand while he couldn't help jerking off.

You were losing your temper, you wanted to explode in your orgasm, but you continued to taste Hyunjin’s cock, licking his entire length, running your lips along it feeling its thin skin and notorious veins, being accompanied by the sweet gasps of that young artist. Hyunjin grabbed your hair, giving you support as you took his shaft, bobbing your head, but you were getting more and more breathless, your eyes began to glisten, you were so close, you were being distracted by the sensation of your nipples being pinched and your breasts being fondled and how very sticky the oral sex Felix was giving you was getting.

“You’re doing it so good princess” Minho’s voice came next to your ear, “You’re so cute taking Hyunjin’s cock so well, good girl.”

Your eyes searched for his image, you were sure your expression was a mess, you didn’t understand how he looked so cute and peaceful as he witnessed the dirty act of his girlfriend’s mouth being filled by his best friend’s dick. It was sick, twisted, it was so fucking hot you had no self-control.

You were collapsing, losing strength, and struggling not to drop your abdomen onto Chan’s thighs. You whimpered with Hyunjin’s cock in your mouth, drooling, with Felix’s tongue inside you and his fingers on your labia and clit, you collapsed in your first climax, making your body quiver. You pulled Hyunjin’s cock out of your mouth for a moment to enjoy your orgasm, took a breath and moaned loudly. Felix felt his hard penis throbbing and in a low moan he cum in his hand as well.

“Aw, baby girl’s first orgasm of the night," Chan spoke tilting his head as he appreciated your trembling body, “Good job, Felix.”

You were weak but skillfully aroused. Your chest was rising and falling with difficulty, you were dizzy between so much pleasure but your mind kept asking that now how would they have fun with you.

He placed you in front of him on his lap again and whispered in your ear:

“Now you’re going to ride daddy’s cock, yes, baby girl?”

His words rocked you. You nodded with big, bright submissive eyes, driving him crazy.

Chan left you in his old place on the couch, stood up and began to undress. Minho plopped down beside you, all watching the little spectacle of the older man undressing.

“Ah, this dude can’t keep his clothes on” Minho commented amused.

You turned to see him, he was also so agitated and excited that you felt bad that you didn’t have him and could attend to him.

When Chan pulled down his pants and boxers to take them off you were engrossed. He was huge. You bit your lip and subtly denied, feeling afraid and insecure, that was going to break you in two, it wasn’t going to fit. But, remembering your boyfriend’s big thick cock there was a good chance you would enjoy it.

“Come here.”

Chan carried you in his arms. You automatically wrapped your legs around his waist, his body was strong, he had big pecs and marked abs. You looked into his eyes… you had never been this intimate and vulnerable with anyone but Minho… now you were being shared with his best friends.

Chan carried you with one arm while his available hand held the base of his erect cock to rub his soft glans on your pussy. You moaned as you were teased and you fliched in surprise.

“Fuck, it’s big” you suddenly blurted out between a sigh, causing a smug giggle to come from Chan, you looked up at him still surprised and blushed.

“You cant take it, babygirl.”

And the next thing you felt was his cock sliding inside you making you whimper. The others watched the act of your body weakening and shuddering as you held tightly to his neck, how your entrance stretched adjusting to Chan’s size as you whimpered louder and louder the deeper he got inside you.

“You feel so good” moaned Chan feeling your walls wrap around his cock completely, “Fuck you Minho, he had all of you to himself?” he mumbled.

His cock slid in easily, you were so wet, you shivered hugging yourself to his neck, resting your face on it, you were as full as you had ever been, slightly fuller than Minho made you, the bulge of his cock was noticeable in your lower belly, Chan came deep inside you, staying a few seconds without moving so your walls could get used to him. “Can I move now, little one?” he whispered sweetly to you.

You nodded quickly, sore but excited, "Yes, please… daddy."

Chan’s ears turned red as he heard you call him daddy and fill him with his fantasies. He grabbed your buttocks and began to control your body over his cock, going up and down slowly, giving them the erotic view of your sensitive hole being penetrated, of his glistening cock thrusting inside you, capturing the arousal of each of you, causing their hands to go to their respective penises and begin to masturbate at the grotesque image of your entrance being abused by Chan’s big cock as you both moaned in pleasure. Even Minho couldn’t take it anymore and pulled his erect cock out to stroke it at the image of your body being absolutely fucked by someone else.

Chan was tearing open every part of you, his pumping cock bouncing into you, his thrusts were gentle, slow and deep, manipulating your body up and down in a sweet rhythm, at that point you were both a mess, your breasts and hard nipples rubbing against his marked pecs as fluids from both of you slid along his cock, trickled out of you onto the floor and stained his sensitive testicles every time you had him deep inside you.

“Shit” gasped Chan, ”Come join in, someone can take her from behind.”

The phrase altered your senses amidst the whimpering mess you were being.

“Is that okay with you, angel?” Chan asked you again breathlessly, “Fuck your beautiful ass?”

You looked him in the eyes, Felix and Hyunjin were already to the side of you with their hands stroking their cocks.

“Y-yes.”

You answered, not sure what could happen. You looked around for Minho with your eyes, he was sitting there watching absolutely everything.

“Good” Chan replied, giving you a tender smile disappearing his lips for a second.

Chan pulled out of you suddenly making you whimper, his cock touched his abs as it was loose. Chan didn’t hesitate, he laid down on the carpet, dropping you down sitting on his cock with your labia between his rigid member.

“This way we’re going to fill you completely,” Hyunjin said.

Chan lifted your body to slip his wet cock between your ass, trying to prepare it before they could enter you that way too. You bit your lip at the sensation, you had long felt the knot in your stomach but you were only prolonging your climax. You became restless and nervous again.

“Fuck, nobody has any lube?” commented Chan somewhat exasperated.

He didn’t want to hurt you, at least he didn’t want Hyunjin to, as he positioned himself behind you and Felix stood in front of you, leaving right in your face the sight of his stiff cock.

“It’s okay, I’ll be gentle” moaned Hyujin, getting on his knees close to Chan’s thighs.

Chan pushed you gently and you quickly understood it was to take his cock again, he lined it up with your entrance as you slowly let yourself fall on top of him, causing you to sigh. You shuddered as you felt Hyunjin’s tip moisten your rear area, rubbing his precum, he parted your buttocks with his hands digging into your skin and entered gently, making you scream louder than Chan’s penis in your vagina.

You whimpered, closing your eyes tightly and biting your lip as the male presences took guilty delight in your suffering. Hyunjin moaned in ragged gasps at the extremely tight sensation of your conduit.

You held yourself tightly in Chan’s abs, whimpering each time you felt his cock deeper in you. You had never had anal sex before and it was burning like hell itself, but the lust in your body was greater than your pain.

“Is it okay, baby doll, are you liking it?” whispered Hyunjin slightly concerned.

“Yes” you whimpered.

Hyunjin was also big and within moments, you were being penetrated on both sides.

"Move slowly, Hyun, let her adjust a little" cautioned Chan.

They both began to move in you leaving you hoarse and breathless, Chan lifting his pelvis and pounding your pussy while Hyunjin buried himself into you, they started slow but their pace gradually increased, leaving you with the most unique experience you were ever going to forget. Chan held you firmly by the hips and Hyunjin squeezed your right buttock with his hand while another hand played naughtily with your breasts.

Then you looked at the blond boy’s genital area, his stubble pubic area with tiny freckles on it, you were transfixed, thinking how uniquely beautiful Lee Felix was, you looked into his eyes before taking his cock and did your best to please him while two of your holes were being completely filled and used.

Your movements on his cock were imperfect due to the constant pounding of Chan and Hyunjin against your body that was driving you crazy. But Felix didn't stop panting, he loved it, he stroked your hair more delicately to how Hyunjin took you a few moments ago. You felt dirty, used and aroused, all your possible entrances occupied and each of them dripping in some fluids, your cheeks were shiny from the little tears shed. You were on the verge of collapse again, once again, your body could no longer hold it in.

On the other hand, Minho smiled happily, happy that lust won on that rainy night, he was in glee at the dirty image of your little body destroyed among men, he was as happy and excited as a young hormonal boy discovering his favorite porn. He was happy to have been able to fulfill your fantasies.

Chan babbled things that left you in the clouds, the moans of the three of them set fire inside you and the situation again seemed like a dream, a very dirty one.

Each of the best friends were enjoying it like they had never experienced sex before, everything was full of lust and passion, a sweet young woman at the beck and call of the pleasures and dark fantasies of men in search of forbidden sansations.

You pulled Felix’s cock out as you felt it quiver in your mouth and happily let him cum on your tongue. You became somewhat foolishly confused letting yourself be carried away by Chan and Hyunjin’s thrusts and whimpered again letting yourself release in the most intense and long lasting orgasm. You wanted to collapse in surrender, but both men continued on you some more until moaning and cumming hard inside you.

“Good girl-” Chan mumbled.

“Fuck, she’s full of cum now” Hyunjin smiled happily.

They both pulled out of you to contemplate the collapse of your twitching muscles expelling their glistening semen.

You finally felt yourself breathing, you thought you had tachycardia, you were out of your senses waiting to recover. You saw Minho approach you, again with his cock sheltered in his pants, with a calm expression and suddenly he carried your weak and naked body in his strong arms, you breathed in his scent and saw him with some embarrassment with your already flustered face.

“You did very well my princess. I love you” he whispered and gave you a tender kiss on your forehead, “Do you want to try something new tomorrow?”

Your boyfriend carried your exhausted body to the warm bathtub that he had already prepared, taking care of you after the unexpected night you had.

๋࣭⭑๋࣭⸙ᨒ↟ ⋆｡°

The next morning you didn't know how to act. It was strange, but the first thing you saw when you came downstairs were Minho's other friends at the entrance, Yang Jeongin, Kim Seungmin, Han Jisung and Seo Changbin. You greeted them shyly with a smile, as it was obvious what awaited you next as soon as night fell.

You went to the kitchen, where you heard voices, finding the men who saw you naked and vulnerable a couple of hours ago, the same ones responsible for each of your sighs and pleasure that crazy, rainy night. Everyone sat down to breakfast but it was obvious that the main course they wanted was you right now.

Chan, Hyunjin and Felix left in the afternoon, confusing you, but you quickly realized it was someone else's turn. None of them wanted to lose you from the spotlight, but just four of them got away with it.

Just when you were alone, in the quiet of the balcony reading a book, not paying attention and with your mind spinning trying to process what the fuck was going on; Minho went with Chan to buy you some birth control pills at the town pharmacy because you had forgotten yours and that was the perfect time for the four of them to take you and lure you into a little game.

They told Minho before they left you, “We'll take care of her.” Minho wasn't stupid and knew of the high probability that they would end up fucking you without him being there, which annoyed the hell out of him, but he would see a way to arrange it, that night.

“Want to play baseball?”

That sentence from Seungmin was a total lie and you knew it, still you followed him into the woods, in an area far away from the house, not only him, but the three other guys followed him too.

“Shit, Seungmin, do you know where we are?” mentioned Jisung annoyed.

Seungmin innocently looked around and stopped in his tracks.

“This is the place.”

Everyone remained silent.

“Oh no, we're lost,” Jeongin added dejectedly in jest.

The four of them watched you, again with leering and hungry looks, you wondered for a second... why you had to follow them there, but it wasn't as if your legs were moving on their own.

“Isn't that right, little one? You're lost but you have the good fortune that four kind men will help you get home, only if you obey and thank us, or we could help each other.”

Your breath shortened, you understood Changbin's dirty game perfectly. You saw Jisung, Seungmin and Jeongin, then turned your focus back to the closeness of Changbin and his strong grip on your waist.

“And how will I ever be able to thank you?”

Changbin flashed a half smile, “Just be a good girl and obey our directions so you can get home.”

You nodded, “Kiss Jisung, he's waiting for you” he softly ordered you.

Jisung opened his eyes in fright once you approached him, surprised that he is the one you were going to initiate with. You kissed him, letting yourself be carried away by the sensations of other lips on yours and in the heat of things, the excitement and pleasure traveled fast in your bodies, you were being fucked by Seungmin and his long cock while doing your best to give a good blowjob to Jisung who was holding on to your body, as both of your hands were busy masturbating Changbin and Jeongin, whose long and nimble digits found a way to play with your clit.

It was a very different baseball game than how you thought.

But your actions had consequences. There you were, in a different pleasure session very distinct from last night, this time Minho was part of it, no longer being sweet and attentive to you, he was spanking your ass hard, forcing you to confess everything you did in the woods with his friends in the afternoon, until you were sore, your ass burning with pain and your eyes shining. His friends enjoyed the spectacle of the game of your pleasure and suffering.

“Take her, guys” Minho said coldly and pushed your body, not so exaggerated but you didn't put up any kind of resistance so he almost threw you. Seungmin came closer to you,

“See? You're nothing but just a fucking slut desperate for some sex. Isn't that so? Look how fucking needy you are.”

His words turned you on, it was the disdainful tone he used and the annoyed expression on his tender face, plus he suddenly started to finger you.

“Should we take turns...? I wanna fuck her” Jisung commented somewhat confused causing Minho to let out an unexpected giggle.

“I'll go first.”

You sighed as you listened to Changbin and let him take your body to the couch, moaning at the pain in your ass at the slightest rub. He spread your legs apart and began to taste your center, rolling your eyes.

“You're rewarding her that way and I think it was clear what a bad girl she was” Seungmin said.

Changbin pulled away from your pussy just at the sweetest moment, controlled your body with ease, turned your body quickly and started to fuck you hard making you squeal.

“Right, you're a little whore” Changbin moaned, spanking you harder on your already red and hurting ass.

You whimpered in pain but his thick cock felt so good around your walls.

“Fuck you, Changbin” Jeongin expressed somewhat frustrated.

Everyone took Jisung's idea, the next one inside you was Jeongin who pulled on your hair as he penetrated you in a delicious pace, the next one was Seungmin, who kept spanking your ass and his body slammed into yours at every deep thrust. And the last one was Jisung, he flipped your body as he fantasized about the movement of your tits while he fucked you hard, he was the one who left you the most breathless and the only one who managed to cum in you.

The others unloaded their cum on your chest as they vigorously pulled their cocks, making you feel dirty and humiliated, but it was something new that you liked.

๋࣭⭑๋࣭ ⸙ ᨒ↟ ⋆｡°

Sunday night was the high point of that crazy weekend that seemed to have no end. All it took was telling Minho:

“Why did you split up your friends? On you-know-what…”

“I thought eight guys was absurd.”

“Maybe it's not at all.”

And there you were, naked with eight needy, stiff cocks eager for you. The best part, was the men who carried it. You adored seeing their distinct and attractive faces and bodies begging for you, from the sensations they were giving you.

This time all eight of them were naked, looking so intimidating waiting for the next move. You were a helpless little deer in the woods, surrounded and in the sights of hungry beasts.

Hyunjin was the first to approach you, putting on a show for his friends as his mouth feasted on your breasts and his hand worked fast on your core, then his hand focused mainly on your clit as Jeongin's fingers were sunk deep into you after Hyunjin had happily invited him.

You slowly watched the silhouette of everyone approaching between your blurred vision due to the high level of libido in you and your body trembled in excitement, trying to think in what way they would make your body enough for each of them.

You were still in awe, not understanding the reason that brought you there, but just enjoying and letting yourself be carried away by the lust of the moment. But you had no idea that it was all caused by the domino effect of Minho's curiosity that led him to read your diary that night.

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦ ꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

𐙚TAGLIST: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97 @armystay89 @lolareadsimagines @lailac13 @ayyonoona @do-you-remember-summer-127 @wildtokay @korthbum @oddracha @hyune-sssne @velvetmoonlght @shadowhunterathene @compersian @binniesbabe @strayywayy @mallielovssyou @isabel-018

lmk if u want to be added for more kinktober, or if i omitted u oopsi, and pls have an age indicator! also I can’t tag some u :p but there’s ur username w luv

[hitomisuzuya]

AHHHHH I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH YOU LITERALLY MAKE MY DAY <3 Can I have some Stepcest with jealous Scara! That’s all TYSM!

Stepcest, DNI if uncomfortable! Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Blowjob. Sex toy. Degradation. A jealous Scara is a mean Scara😳 Tartaglia mentioned.

Hello dear❤️ You weren't really specific about what you wanted other than jealousy so this what I came up with. Thank you very much🥺

Everyone had that one friend that was always over. For Scaramouche, it was Tartaglia. Normally, you didn't mind just chilling and playing video games with them, however, you'd been feeling really needy all day.

You tried tempting him into sending Tartaglia home early, even. But, Scaramouche knew you were needy. It was oh so cute to purposely make you wait. Your determination, you supposed is what landed you in the position that you were in now.

You flirted with Tartaglia. It was a calculated but harmless comment about how the blue in his eyes put any ocean to shame.

The glare hooded in Scaramouche's eyes as he looked down at you sent a shiver up your spine. "What were you trying to pull earlier?" He growled, smearing precum from the head of his leaking cock head on your lips. "Open up that mouth you were so intent on running earlier, slut."

You wanted to answer him, but it was really hard for you to think when your body was twitching in pleasure due to the ribbed thrusting rabbit ear vibrator pumping in and out of your pussy. The ears skated and rubbed on your throbbing clit, making your thighs tremble.

A blush dusted your cheeks as you nuzzled your cheek on his pelvis, your tongue flicking out to curl around the tip. Grabbing a handful of your hair, he prodded his cock head on your lips. It always set him off whenever you flirted so openly with Tartaglia. And now he was going to fuck his cock into the same mouth you'd used to flirt with that ginger haired imbecile.

You played with your tongue in his precum, slowly licking the slit before scooping the head into your mouth to suck on. His grip tightened in your hair for a moment, and he smoothed his fingers through your hair in a momentary approval.

"At least you know your place," He cooed condescendingly, "On your knees sucking your step brother's cock like the slut you are," You are his, and it seemed you needed to be reminded of that

Your eyes lit up with absolute adoration for him. You absolutely knew your place. You were right where you wanted to be all day: on your knees worshipping his cock in the way he deserves. If he wasn't so angry he would've chuckled at your reaction.

Your hips jerked to grind your clit on the ears of the vibrator, opening your mouth obediently with a muffled moan as he bullied his cock into your mouth. The wet sucking noises your pretty mouth was making sent his cock to pulse on your tongue.

"Flirting with him," He spat the word, bobbing your mouth on his cock, "and sucking me off so well with the same mouth. What a whore," He groaned feeling your throat spasm on his cock as he pushed it into your throat

The vibrator was bullying your sweet spot just as relentlessly, drool pooling onto his cock as you muffled a moan each time it hummed and nudged against it. If it wasn't for the ears of the toy massaging and rubbing your clit, you would've pinched and played with it to further show your need for him.

Husky, angry sounding moans and growls accompanied the lewd sucking sounds of your mouth as you flattened your tongue on the vein of his cock. Groaning, he held your mouth down on his cock.

"So quick to submit to me," Scaramouche hissed, his knees nearly buckling as you ground your mouth around his cock, hollowing your cheeks and vibrating a moan. "Good little slut. Look at me while you cum," He smoothed his knuckles on your scalp, lost in taking out his frustration on your mouth.

The vibrator proved to be too much for you. You let out what he thought sounded like the sweetest moans as he watched you cum on the vibrator, drooling on his cock like the good girl you always are for him.

You quaked in pleasure as the vibrator fucked into you through your orgasm, the ears of the toy making you see stars as it massaged your clit. The sight of you coming undone on the toy pushed Scaramouche over the edge. His thrusts into your mouth turned somewhat careless as he chased his high.

Scaramouche held your mouth down on his cock, cum spurting salty on your tongue as it pulsed. His eyes nearly rolled back into his head as you swallowed with his cock still in your mouth, slowly thrusting into your mouth while you sucked him through his orgasm.

He checked your mouth to make sure you swallowed it all.

[misstycloud]

Haunted House

Ghost yan x ghost reader

TW: suicide mention

——————

It was with curiosity you stared out the window. A car had pulled up in the drive way. Through the car windows you sa two adults and three children in the backseat. Well, it was definitely not a maintenance company then. It always bothered you so when they came and meddled with your house; though it technically didn’t belong to you anymore you still considered the building as you home, and prison.

You watched as the kids ran out of the vehicle to inspect the house. You had to admit, they were rather cute. Before you hadn’t really thought about having kids and weren’t sure if you ever would, but now you found yourself wondering if you would have made a good mother. One always ponder about the choices out of one’s reach.

They seemed happy, the family of five. Perhaps you would be fine with them around.

“What are you thinking about, dear?” A voice interrupted your dazed thoughtfulness as your mood instantly soured.

“Nothing so you can leave.”

The man behind you sighed. “Do you always have to act like this whenever I’m around?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look back at him, fearing that the sight of him would send you into a frenzy. “I do when you’re the one who ruined my life.”

“Ruined your life? We were happy together, in fact, I remember you telling me ‘I promise to love you even in death’ but I guess that doesn’t apply, not with the way you treat me.”

You nearly gasped at his audacity. The nerve some people had!

“What? Are you actually serious right now- you can’t be? The way I treat you? You want to talk about the way I treat you? You killed me!” You shouted.

You had turned around now. Your eyes took in the handsome man you had once called the love of your life. Despite the hatred for true actions and pain he caused you, a small part of you still felt something when you looked at him. Maybe it was affection? Maybe it was the anguished feelings of a happy life that could have been? You weren’t sure.

He stilled for a moment before speaking again. “I know, and I am sorry it had to go that way-“

“Had to? You weren’t forced to do anything. At least take responsibility for your actions!”

“I wouldn’t have had to do it if you had just stopped flirting with those other men.” It seemed like it was his turn to become angry. “Don’t think I didn’t see how you looked at them, how your eyes lit up when you saw someone you very clearly fancied.”

“Oh my- we’ve been over this a hundred times, they were just coworkers nothing more. Besides, they have wives and kids of their own!”

It didn’t matter how much you insisted, your (ex)husband did not relent in his accusations.

“That doesn’t mean they’ll be loyal. You have no idea what a treasure you are, many would do anything to get to have you.” The man twirled a strand of your hair around his finger, entranced by your beauty.

“Oh, like you, you mean?” You fired back.

“Stop that.” He said. “I don’t want to fight with you, we’ve already done enough of that. I did what I had to do and nothing will ever change that. Now we’ll be together for ever, even in death, just like we promised each other at the altar. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I hope that one day you will understand how deep my feelings for you go and see things from my perspective. I love you, I really do.” He turned to leave you to your lonesome. Before he left, he told you one final thing, “No one else will adore you as much as I, especially now considering no man will ever see you besides me. You’re nothing more than a ghost after all.”

The tear threatening to escape earlier finally welled up. You cried and wiped your eyes with you cold, dead hand.

——————

Just as you had imagined, the family did bring you a new sense of happiness. Whilst not exactly ideal, watching over(spyin on) the parents and the children made your days more fulfilled. They brought laughter and fun back into your undead life.

Unfortunately you weren’t able to look out for them unless they stayed in the house. It was a real pain in the ass, not being able to leave the building. If you could, you would have left decades ago- much to your (ex)husband/ dismay. You suspected he was relieved to find that you were both confined to your place of death. It meant you couldn’t leave him, which was his goal the entire time. He got what he wanted in the end.

After stabbing you out of jealousy, you died in his arms, crying and demanding answers to why he would hurt you. When you (surprisingly) woke up again, you were in the same position you had been when your life drained out of you. Your man was clutching you tight to his chest and he was stroking you hair. At first you had believed it was all a dream, then you thought you survived the whole thing. He was still petting your hair and rambling on how he loved you and how he would rather die than be separated from you. You hadn’t expected him to be so literal.

You were shocked when you had pulled away from him, only to discover a second version of him lying unmovingly on the floor next to you. Then you noticed the pool of blood spilling out from his neck, and the knife he stabbed you with in his hand. With disbelief you glanced back at the ‘living’ version of him. He smiled somewhat solemnly at you as you took in his too-pale skin and the large scar he had on his throat.

You tried not to think about it too much. No matter what he did, you would never forgive him for taking your life away from you because of his irrational fear of you cheating on him. Well, it was impossible for you to leave or cheat on him now. You were the only ghosts in the house and didn’t have the ability to take even a small step outside the front door.

Instead of spending your days avoiding him as usual, you now followed the family around the house. Mostly the children of course. They had the habit of getting into trouble whenever their parents weren’t around. You had forgotten how many times you had saved them from tripping or bumping their heads. You were lucky you could touch things in the real world for a short second. You couldn’t before so you assumed it was because you were a young and weak ghost back then.

The whole babysitting act also appeared to bother your husband, which you relished in. You remembered one day when he approached you after the family had left for the grocery store.

“Don’t you think you’re spending an awful lot of time with those children?”

“I like them so I don’t mind.” You answered and continued staring at the drawings they made that afternoon, right before begging called to get dressed and meet by the car.

“Well, I don’t think it’s right for you to do the parents job.” He sneered.

Rolling your eyes, you said, “Like I said, I don’t mind.” Your wanted to leave it at that but your (ex)husband had other plans.

“Sweetie, I will be honest; I believe your getting too attached to this family, it’s not good.”

You sent a glare in his direction. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What I mean is I think you should let them be. They’ll eventually move on whilst you’ll be stuck here. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

You scoffed at the audacity he had again. “A little late for that, don’t you think? This is the only source of happiness I have, don’t take anything more from me, please.”

“I don’t make you happy, then?” He asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer.

You could look him in the eye, choosing silence. He grumbled something incoherent. After another long minute of silence, he sighed. He did that a lot these days, you thought.

“Alright, my love. Continue to look after these living people if it brings you joy, but remember, it won’t last forever. I will be here when you’re done.”

Once more he left you alone to look out the window. Despite your will to disagree, you knew he was right. These people- this family- they were all still alive. You were not. Your time was over, your life stolen from you. It was only a question of when they’d leave. Until then, you’d be their guardian in this haunted house.

[gamblersdoll]

𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄, 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐁𝐎𝐘!

you take off yuuji’s cowboy hat, that means you have to ride him, right?

small mentions of roleplay, groping, reverse cowgirl, sexual tension.

yuuji always did like halloween as a kid, he found it pretty cool, and being the curious one he is, he always did a costume at least everyday. whether it was batman or robin, a supervillain he found cool at times, or just a character from a game, he always dressed up every day of october.

today, he was a cowboy. he felt it was like a calling or something, considering he grew up in the southern parts of japan and he also happened to grow accustomed to the south. especially since nobara was southern as well.

the difference between you both were you really only dressed up on the night of halloween, thats what you really were supposed to do. but, you indulged in his shenanigans, feeling his hands slip around your hips and his breath fanned over your head. “you from ‘round here?” he asks in the most southern accent hes ever picked up, a smile pulling at his lips.

a smile pulls at your lips, too. a smirk pulling as well and you turn your head to the side a bit. “i sure am, sir.” you say, feeling him get closer and get close in your ear. “ha’nt seen you ‘fore, either.”

he flips you around, tilting your head up and he licks his lips. “yeah, sweetheart?” he says, biting his lip when you pull his pink cowboy hat off his head and plop it onto yours. “i reckon that you musn’t do that, unless you want to ride somethin’.”

“well, i reckon that i do, mister.” you tease, his lips pressing onto yours and his hands slide down your back to your round ass and gropes the flesh, lips attacking your neck.

you moan, his hands scooping you up and having you ontop of him once he lays himself down on the bed. your hips move in circles in his lap, feeling his growing erection as he paws at your breasts. “youre makin’ me so hard..”

“yeah?” you giggle, licking his lips and pulling his cock from his confinements. your body flips around and you hover over his leaking cock. he groans, squeezing your cheeks in his hands as he lies back.

he helps you slide down, his thick, veiny cock stretching you just a tad. you both groan in the feeling of him sinking deep, your hips already knowing to sit back on him and your knees already prepared. he mumbles a ‘ you okay?’ and you nod. eyes rolling back, you circle your hips and start to lift yourself half way until you slam yourself back to his base.

“oh, damn..” he moans, a hand over his eyes and he bites his lip.

you moan, too. his cock twitching slow and feeling himself brick up even harder than usual.. “like that, baby?” you ask, the bed springs creaking just a bit. you place your hands on his chins, steadying yourself as he slightly fucks up into you.

“yeah, just like that, pretty.” he praises, a hand coming down and slapping your ass. he opens his eyes, watching your cunny pull up and how he stretches between your folds. its a sight to see, for him. his pretty baby fucking her cunt onto his cock, taking it well.

you lean forward more, your back straight and chest pressing against the bed as your hips do all of the work now. “gunna make me cum..” you whine out, his hands resting on the shelf of your ass. “so close, ‘dori…”

“yeah? me too..” he retorts, eyes rolling back for a second and his hips take over, stilling your hips so he can fuck up into you. “oh, shit, oh shit, fuck!”

“yuujiiiii!” you moan, an arm reaches back and takes his hand into yours. “thought— i was doing all the work?” you surprisingly moan out, drool soaking into the sheets and tweaking with your own nipples.

“cant help it, cant help it, oh fuuuck!” he grunts, not sure why his body was moving on its own. his cock twitches when you clamp down, his legs tensing up. “you really cummin hard, baby.”

how he knew you were about to cum before you did was beyond you. but he was right, your squealing muffled by the thick sheets he had bought for the both of you. your legs shake, his thrusts becoming more rapid and fierce as he reaches the end of the tunnel to bliss and paradise, a shout from his lips as he creams himself inside you.

translucent white and a thicker creamy white seep down his shaft, coating his heavy balls as you both recollect yourselves. his eyes snap to you, pulling you back to his chest by his hand and tossing the pink cowboy hat to the side. “you ‘kay?” he asks, holding you to his chest.

“mmhh..” you shuffle, your knee almost hitting his junk.

“watch it—“ he hisses, moving before you could potentially knee him in his balls and tip. “just relax, i gotchu.”

[raven-cincaide]

 ‘𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅’ 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔 

Summary: The three times you and Yuji kiss all happen during different stages of your lives, different times and have inherently different meanings, from the awkward ‘first kiss’ as middle schoolers to a surprise reunion smooch days before Uni. Although, you don’t know what to make of the last one. 

Pairing: fem! Reader x (Best friend) Itadori Yuji

Sweetober prompt 2: Best friends 

WC: 2.4 K

Warnings: Fluff, Mild suggestive theme including minors kissing, mention of death (Yuji's grandpa & handling that)

To say that you and Yuji were close would be like saying ‘water is wet’ or ‘ice is cold’- it's something that everyone who’s seen you grow up knew; you two were always in each other's lives- day in and day out you’d hang out together. If you were there, then Yuji would undoubtedly be somewhere close by. It was like you two were bound by an invisible force which told you where the other was. A force that always seemed to bring you two together. Your teachers would sometimes laugh that you were ‘held together by a red string of fate’ while your parents always reminded you two to get married at a respectable time and not forget to send them the invites to the wedding. 

Truth be told, it felt so perfect and surreal. Like your entire life plan was laid out perfectly in your lap: study together until college, get a degree, then you would work at a company for a few years to build up a resume and some cash before settling down somewhere on the outskirts of Tokyo. Maybe even in the more green village-like areas where you’d build your perfect future together. Yuji would be a P.E. teacher at some local high school, and you would be either an English teacher or a writer, depending on which profession took off first. You’d build a family together; Yuji wanted three kids at least. You wanted one, so you compromised on two and filled the last spot with a pet of his choice. 

Thus, the first time you two kissed was related to that grand life plan. The life plan that you two came up with during recess in middle school. When although it was nice and warm outside, both of you lazied about in the school library, sitting on the soft chairs in the very corner of the room commonly known as the ‘silent reading corner’, surrounded only by a handful of usual-ignored-older computers and heavy bookshelves. There was no one in the school's library besides the two of you and an old librarian checking in new books somewhere in the second room, well out of sight. The other kids were out kicking ball between each other or up to some other type of mischief, but you felt down and tired and settled for the more comfortable indoors. And expectedly and without question, Yuji joined you, sitting in the familiar seat right beside you. 

“Let’s kiss on it!” The young pink-haired boy exclaimed as he spun yet another round on the well-used computer chair beside you. “You know, to seal the deal. As they do at weddings in front of the pastor, so it’s a deal for life.” 

You peer up at him from your spot, where half of you lay half sprawled out on the desk, head rested on top of your folded arms. “I think it’s the vow before the kiss that makes it, you know, ‘til death do us part’ thingy.” 

“Oh.. well, let's do it anyway; that way, we won’t forget it until we get married!” Yuji shifted closer; his lips pulled up into a wide grin as though he had just won a whole cake.  

“I swear you just want a kiss”, you mumbled, but don’t shove him away. You stayed perfectly still, just stared at him with huge eyes, as he leaned closer and closer until you felt it, a tiny pressure on your lips, a shaky warmth that disappeared as quickly as it came. A second passed, and you two stared at each other in utter silence before you both flew away from each other, faces dark red, as you heard the librarian walk in to remind you to get back to class. 

You have to admit you don’t remember much of that kiss. 

But you do remember the sudden shyness that followed and the way yours and Yuji’s cheeks would blossom into dark red blush whenever you looked at each other after that- a fact that made the other kids tease you the hell out of you two. 

It was an awkward kiss that, for a long time, made you worried you were going to lose Yuji. That he wouldn’t want to be friends with you because you were a bad kisser- and unknowingly to you, he felt the same. Thus, you two didn’t kiss more times in middle school. 

The second time you and Yuji kiss, was during your first year of high school, right after summer break. The two of you sat, sprawled out in the shadows of the high school bleachers from one side, and the overgrown bushes from the other side. A perfect little obscured space for anyone who didn’t want to be seen. But still wanted to have a good view of the sports area with the bright green football field, an area for throwing balls, spears, high and low jumps and other activities you didn’t even know existed. 

The football tryouts had just finished and yet there were still a few hours left until the cheerleading tryouts started. Yuji had wanted to just show up to your tryouts, but an old classmate practically begged him to join for football tryouts as company, completely forgetting that since last semester Yuji hit puberty and not only shot up like a beam but also grew strengths and muscle like a gorilla. Effectively impressing the P.E teacher who wanted nothing more than to sink his claws into your horror-loving, more-of-a-bookworm-than-sports-guy Yuji. 

So now you had no choice but to hide in the shadowy part of the field, sitting on Yuji’s sweatshirt in your bright blue cheerleader uniform, sipping on a milkshake and Yuji in his barely sweaty jeans and t-shirt, right beside you, chugging down a Gatorade. 

“How quickly do you wanna get married?” 

Your eyes flickered over to Yuji as he peered at you through pink bangs. The second he caught your eye though, he turned away, face unmistakably red. His lips were still wrapped around the neck of the bottle. He was a mix of cool-casual as if he had just asked how long you had until class, but also so obviously fidgety and nervous that you found him totally cute. Absolutely adorable, and something else you refused to admit about your best friend. But there was also something else in his expression, and you quickly recognise the question for what it was; a distraction. Something to keep his mind occupied on anything other than his sick grandpa. 

‘So bad, huh?’ you want to comfort him in the only way he would accept- by answering his half-metaphorical question: “Hmm, maybe during or straight after Uni? I heard there are some perks with getting housing if you’re a young married couple,” You mused aloud, trying to keep the tears out of your voice. 

“We should kiss on that, You know, to seal the deal..” you paused mid-sip of your cherry-flavoured milkshake, sensing an air of nervousness settled between you. You bite your lips, a part of you uncertain and definitely nervous. You weren’t children anymore, and a kiss at your age would have all sorts of implications. 

But you could also see his need for a distraction, could see how tense his shoulders were and how desperately he gripped the Gatorade bottle. He was afraid, you realised, afraid to be completely alone once his grandpa passed. You still had your parents, but Yuji would have no one. He was afraid you’d leave him too. 

“I swear you just want a kiss” You could practically hear him sob in relief as he spun around to face you, the childhood reply from all this years ago brought him unimaginable relief.

This time it was not a shy and quick press of the lips- it was something more desperate. He pressed his lips to yours firmly and moved them against yours as if he were trying to get closer, or eat you alive. You weren’t sure.  Teenaged hormones raged- an unexplainable tension between you two as your lips and spit, and tongue met each other over and over again. 

This time there was a lot more exploring now, tasting, feeling. 

The taste of Yuji and the puckishly sweet-synthetic taste of post-practice Gatorade cut through the sweet flavour of a cheery milkshake on your tongue. The warmth of his hands on your body, the feel of his chest under your hands. How much he had changed seemingly overnight from a soft and squishy boy into a brick of solid muscle hidden underneath hoodies and lose fitted jeans. 

You gasp as he pushes you down into laying and broke the kiss to stare at him. His pupils were blown wide, almost manic. One leg planted on the ground, the second frozen in the air mid saddling your waist, as if he just just realized what he was doing. His blush caught up with him, and he cleared his throat awkwardly, not sure what to do. “D-Do y-you wanna stop?” 

You heared the unmistakable whistle from the tryouts taking place just meters away and it's as if a dose of reality finally broke through your haze. What you two were doing in broad daylight too. “Y-yeah, definitely not here” You don’t miss the look of disappointment on Yuji’s face as he scrambles off of you and helped you up. 

Thinking back, you wondered if things would have been different if you hadn’t said ‘yes’ that time- if you hadn’t stopped and instead urged him on the way every fiber of your being screamed at you to. Would Yuji have stayed in your high school? Or would he have anyway transferred out of there the very next day with no warning and no goodbye. Not even a chance for you to say your condolences to him, or mourn his grandfather death, who was like your own grandfather? Or would it have ultimately not mattered? 

The third time you and Yuji kissed was days before the university start. It was sunny and warm as you waited near re-built Shinjuku station for your friends for a much-needed shopping spree. The university started almost two weeks later than your high school after the summer break and the day coincided with the last time you saw Yuji. Although there was still a feeling of anger, a lot of it was replaced by melancholy and a sense of betrayal. You wished Yuji would explain to you the simple ‘why’- you swore you would have understood. 

But he never did, and despite frequent texting, you always turned down his request to meet up.

You were bitter, not only for having lost your best friend but also because he ruined the plan. The perfectly perfect life plan you both had created in middle school which came crashing down without warning, leaving you alone to pick up the pieces. You were still bitter about being left behind- replaced like a pair of gloves and so stubbornly angry that you didn’t even notice Yuji screaming your name until he was just a few feet away. 

You glanced up, and the next thing you knew, he was on you. His arms came to wrap around your waist and he spun you around and around, face buried in the crook of your neck like in all those post-war veteran coming-home pictures. You noticed he looked older, more worn out than his twenties, like he had been through hell and back again. “Y-yuji?!-” You didn’t even manage to finish your sentence as his lips were suddenly on yours. A desperate plea and apology all poured into that one kiss. 

You froze. Your body grew rigid in his arms; you thought your love had cooled, and yet there were sparks between you- no, wait, there WERE actual blue sparks around you. You tore yourself away from his lips, ignoring his sulking pout, as you stared at the specks of blue around you in shock and awe.

“You can see that?” An unfamiliar voice spoke up, and you turned to face a dark-haired man standing beside a brown-haired woman. Between them was something that you could only describe as a black-and-white demon dog of sorts. It’s horrifying and cute all at once. Although its proportions feel all wrong, there was something like a third eye in the middle of its forehead surrounded by a red mark in its forehead that didn’t look like a mere paint job.

 “And you see him?” the woman asks, pointing a long finger at the animal.

You nodded slowly, your gaze flickered between the reminisce of blue specks and the puppy, and then you went back to the unfamiliar duo. 

“Then it’s all good, right? Fushiguro? Kugisaki? We call tell her, right?” Yuji exclaimed, his voice an obnoxiously loud cheer that only piped down once you pressed your hands against his shoulders in a silent demand to be set back down on the ground. 

Instantly Yuji’s eyes, puppy dog expression and disappointed pout stared up at you. You didn’t smile or laugh back at him, in fact, you didn’t even know whether you wanted to know whatever that ‘all’ was. You just felt uneasy, and awkward in your best friend's embrace after two years of absence and an unmistakable bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. Like you wanted to get the fuck away from there before you were dragged into something you didn’t want to be a part of. 

“Oy why is it so important for you to make her a sorcerer anyway?” the woman crossed her arms over her chest, seizing you and your still stunned expression, up and down as if judging your entire worth in that mili-second. 

“Because she’s my best friend of course!” Yuji exclaimed, throwing his arm around your shoulders to keep you from collapsing from the onslaught of emotion that you felt at that moment. 

From anger and betrayal to curiosity and the unmistakable fear as the trio inched closer to you while Yuji kept you still in one place. But most importantly, the unmistakable pang of pain that came with being called ‘his best friend’. It reminded you once again that a kiss for Yuji was just a way to greet someone; like a personalised handshake or a first bump. It meant nothing, and you were a total fool to become so affected by it. To still hope against hope that your life plan could be salvaged. It was foolish because you were the only one to feel that way, 

Or so you thought.  

Author note: Here we are again, for day 2 of Sweetober/Flufftober. I kinda hated writing this fic but fell in love with it on re-read because of how hopeful it became in the end. Hope you liked it too!

Wanna see the masterlist & sign up to the taglist? See here

Tags: @pixelcafe-network, @ambiguouslady42, @stunies @vividraft

Comments, hearts and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Main |Raven | Rules and Requests | Masterlist | Links

All fics are unique works by ©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reworked/reposted/copied anywhere, please inform me!

[deathbxnny]

Genshin men meeting you, their idol, for the first time. | Lyney, Kinich, Childe x Gn!Reader

The idea came to me randomly, so enjoy! (I've been freed from my writers block wooo-)

Content: Reader is a famous person, Childe going a little feral, vague mentions of flirting, Ajaw being Ajaw, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not proofread))

》LYNEY

You were a famous magician who did shows all over Teyvat. Everyone knew of you and your incredible talent, making you an international star to all. No matter where you went, diehard fans would always come to see your breathtaking magic tricks with wide, sparkling eyes. You were able to bewitch the crowd with the most simplest moves, a graceful smile always on your beautiful face as you did so.

And when you finally came around to hold a show in the grand theaters of Fountaine, Lyney had the chance to meet you backstage in between your sets. Despite the fact that he should have seen you as competition considering his own passion in the profession, he couldn't help but watch you with that same awe-struck expression. It was a privilege to meet you, one he wouldn't pass up for anything.

His heart was beating against his chest wildly, yet he still pushed through with the greeting he had gone over and over again in his mind. He wanted to impress you after all. Taking your hand in his, he kissed the back of it, a sly and playful glint in his eyes. "It is an honor to meet you." He hums before pulling a rainbow rose from behind your ear skillfully and holding it out to you, secretly relishing in the giggle you gave him. Ignoring his sibling's deadpan from behind him, he held out his arm to you. "May I show you around? This is your first time in Fountaine... and I can assure you that I'm the best guide you'll find. Consider it a favor amongst like-minded magicians such as ourselves!"

His nervousness never shows, and his smile never falters. This was perhaps the best show he had to put on in his life... but when you gratefully accepted his invitation, he felt his worries melt away, glad he didn't come off as a desperate fan.

》KINICH

He tried to stay indifferent when he was suddenly standing in front of one of the most legendary warriors Natlan had ever seen, which just happened to be you. He felt his hands become clamy, arms tightly crossed across his chest, whilst he watched you speak with Mualani about the latest news regarding their annual tournament. Attempting to simply stay out of your line of sight in fear of embarrassing himself, he leaned against the wall hidden in the shadows, content with being in your close proximity... until Ajaw caught onto what he was attempting to do.

"Ohoho... are you trying to crawl into a hole and disappear like the little worm you are?" He giggled evilly, floating around the deadpanning man, who was trying to ignore him like always. But Ajaw wasn't having it. If there was something he lived for, then it was the suffering of his dearest companion. "You know... I think you should go talk to them! Actually, let me help you out since I'm feeling oh-so nice today!" Kinich's eyes widened slightly, his lips parting to hiss out a warning, but the creature was too quick to stop, filled with determination to cause chaos.

Following after him with quick steps, Kinich was quick to banish him before he could reach you. This meant, however, that he was now standing in front of you and Mualani. Heat crawled up his neck and cheeks, as his friend happily introduced him to you, seemingly not having noticed the doom that had nearly hit you earlier. But his slightly panicked mind stilled when he saw you give him a kind smile. "Ah, I think I know you... or well, I've heard of you, at least." You said, and he felt himself take a shaky breath in relief and wonder.

Perhaps Ajaw had actually done something nice for once... which would definitely enrage him once he was released from his imprisonment.

》CHILDE

Oh boy... you knew him way before you met him, that's for sure. Mainly because he was hellbent on fighting you at least once. He didn't care if he lost or won either. It was all the same to him, as long as you were the one to press the blade of your sword against his neck. And that alone made you often just outright avoid him, whenever you were in the motherland for business. You were a well-known assasin and agent for the first Harbinger, serving directly under him, which, of course, brought you great strength that Childe wanted to experience desperately. He needed to know if the rumors about your skills were true or not.

And unfortunately for you, he finally was able to get his deepest wish fulfilled when you accidentally dared to linger around the courtyard for way longer than you should have. "Please... fight me in a duel at least once!" He called out, knowing he has you cornered now. Despite him idolizing you greatly, you could tell his cocky pride and ego made him think he was an equal to you. Or perhaps that was just how things appeared to be. He was an unreadable force of energy that admittedly had caught your interest a while ago.

"Will you finally leave me be, if I do?" You asked after a moment of pondering silence, and the man just gave you a smirk, his dead eyes burning with determination you had never seen before. "Let's let our blades decide that." Chuckling at his response, you unsheathed your sword and faced him with a sigh.

This is not how people usually approach their idols... but you supposed that nothing was normal in the place you called home.

[toournextadventure]

everyone but her pt.44

Summary: You and Wednesday have an argument. Probably the first one in as long as you can remember.

Word Count: 6.2k Warnings: swearing, unwanted advances, delusions Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (Masterlist)

You were still spitting werewolf hair out of your mouth an hour after getting back home.

It had been a mad dash to get Eugene and Enid to the hospital. You had been able to carry Enid, but both Ash and Wednesday had to share Eugene’s weight. The doctors were quick to take them back and assess the damage, and the three of you were left waiting out front.

Thankfully, Enid healed fast and Eugene wasn’t as bad as he looked.

“You know,” you said as you fell onto the couch, “I think we’re one accident away from being banned from the friend group.”

All the air was pushed from your lungs as Wednesday fell on top of you.

“I believe you may be correct.”

“At least they’re okay,” you said.

Wednesday simply hummed in agreement. The weight of her body resting on yours was comforting. Her elbow was digging into a still-forming bruise on your ribs, but it didn’t hurt. Not really. Not when her ring rested securely around your finger. Not when your ring gleamed in the artificial light of the apartment, illuminating every inch of her entire being.

Engaged. Oh geez, you would probably need to tell your family at some point. Abuelita and Momma knew of your plan, at least most of it, but this wasn’t exactly expected. Surely they wouldn’t get onto you, right? It wasn’t like you had planned on Wednesday whipping it out so soon, she still hadn’t graduated yet. Everyone knew marriage before graduation was a recipe for disaster.

Well, maybe it would be fine. After all, Wednesday Addams was anything but normal.

Something tickled the back of your throat.

“I hate werewolf hair,” you said as you tried to cough it up.

“You shouldn’t have bit him,” Wednesday said matter-of-factly. “You were aware of the outcome.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumbled.

Silence fell over the apartment, and the wear and tear of the evening finally started to settle. While not the worst fight you had been in, there was nothing gentle about a werewolf. Simply holding on to his neck was enough to throw you around, leaving your body sore and stiff.

Wednesday, in a strange way, was like your personal ice pack. It was lovely.

Something rattled against the wooden table near the kitchen. It cut through the silence like a knife. Both you and Wednesday jumped. In a move that was uncharacteristic of your girlfriend - fiancee, you thought giddily - she looked at you until you nodded in silent permission before getting up from your lap.

You stared at her ass shamelessly as she walked over to the table and grabbed her phone.

“Everyone okay?” You asked after she set the phone back on the table.

“Eugene is awake, and Enid is back home,” she said.

You pushed yourself up from the couch. “Good.”

Your knee creaked as you shuffled over to the table. The logical part of your brain knew they would be okay; Eugene was tough, and Enid was… well, she was Enid. And she was tough as nails. But there was still a part that worried they wouldn’t be okay. That you and Wednesday had shown up too late, and you would have to sit by idly while they died.

They should have, the voice in your head said. They should have died in the woods.

Then there was that part that you just wanted to shut up.

“No more woods for any of us, right?” You asked as you wrapped your arms around Wednesday’s waist. From that position, she smelled of the damp forest.

“For anyone,” she answered quickly. “Enid can transition into a house dog.”

You laughed to yourself at the thought. Enid? Your Enid? She could never. After she had turned for the first time, she had been an insatiable little beast. If she couldn’t get outside - which had only happened twice - she would cry and whine and practically knock the door down until she could leave the confines of the apartment. It was endearing.

And a little expensive.

Mention of the woods made you pause.

“How did you know Enid and Eugene were in the woods?” You asked. She hummed inquisitively. “You ran out of the apartment like you knew exactly where they were.”

“I did,” she said. “I saw it in my vision.”

“What?” You asked, unwrapping your arms and stepping back. It was like a jolt of electricity had gone through your body.

“Twice, actually,” she said as if you hadn’t just pulled away from her calming… coldness? Was that the right word?

“What are you talking about?” You asked.

Still, she didn’t turn around. “Once at your mother’s faux charity gala, then again after exchanging rings-”

“-stop, time out,” you said. A little louder than necessary, you would admit. “What do you mean, visions?”

Finally, Wednesday turned around. She had a look on her face that eerily resembled the not-deer you occasionally saw in the woods. Not afraid per se, but fearful. Striking an unsettling cord in your own chest while doubtless hers felt the same.

“We were both students at the school specifically for Outcasts,” she said simply.

“I know that,” you grumbled. “But you never told me anything about visions.”

Her head tilted to the left. “Why do you believe I was at Nevermore?”

You could have laughed. Truly, you could have. Why did you believe she was there? It was obvious why she was there, everyone had seen her! All it took was one look before everyone figured out why she was there. Hell, if she had said she created Nevermore, you would have believed her!

“Because you’re a fucking freak!” You said. “Respectfully,” in a softer tone. “And you tried to kill some people.”

“You were mistaken.”

Well no shit, you thought. How could she not have told you? Sure, maybe you had never asked, but you didn’t think you had to. Had everyone else known she had visions? Were you the only one who had no earthly clue what your own fiancee was at the Freak School for Serious Freaks for? She… she didn’t think you didn’t care, right?

She lied to you, the voice hummed. Effortlessly.

No, she hadn’t lied. It was an omission of facts, that was all. Which… oddly enough, didn’t make you feel any better. She really hadn’t even hinted at anything? Just let you think she was constantly having some sort of freaky seizure, or fainting, or who knew what other horrible thing you could think of. And she just… didn’t tell you?

She dragged you into danger, the voice taunted. Find out why.

“What did you see about the woods?” You asked. “About Eugene and Enid.”

“I saw them injured on the ground while…” she paused. That wasn’t right. “Someone stood over them.”

Why would she pause?

“Who did you see?”

She didn’t answer. Wednesday didn’t answer, and that wasn’t right. You two didn’t keep things from each other, that just wasn’t how you operated. You don’t tell her about me, the voice said, but you pushed it aside. You had partially told her about the voice before; this wasn’t the same.

“Wednesday,” you said again, “who did you see?”

Her singular deep inhale should have been answer enough.

“You.”

“Jesus Christ, Wednesday,” you said with a harsh exhale.

Your fingers ran through your hair, getting caught in tangles and picking out twigs and leaves. How could that have happened? How could she have seen you standing over them? You of all people? You would rather die than hurt Enid or Eugene, on purpose or on accident.

“These visions aren’t fact, they can change,” Wednesday said matter-of-factly. How could she be so calm? This was serious.

“Who else have you seen me hurt?” You asked; your voice was getting higher. “If you think I could hurt Enid and Eugene, then who else?”

Her typical glare softened. You didn’t want it to soften. You wanted her to tell you that you were being ridiculous. Why couldn’t she do that? She needed to tell you that things were fine, she wasn’t serious, and her visions were just a… a silly goofy time or some bullshit like that.

But she didn’t. She didn’t say anything, just looked at you like you were a kicked puppy. Your mouth was salivating; drooling, if you wanted to be brutally honest about it. Blood rushed through your body, sounding like waves against the shore. Except it wasn’t as pretty.

Say something.

“Who, Wednesday?” You pleaded. Begged.

Pathetic.

“Mack.”

You know the rush of adrenaline you get after doing something risky or exciting? When you felt elated, invincible, like nothing could touch you. If anything, you felt like you were on top of the world.

Yeah, you didn’t feel that.

You felt the crash. The drop in your stomach that made you feel ill. Trembling hands hung by your side. Wednesday was still looking at you, waiting for a response. Or waiting to see if you would lose your shit.

“Fuck you, Addams.” There wasn’t much else you could say. There wasn’t much else to say.

Wednesday’s eyes went wide before quickly returning to a scowl.

“I said they weren’t fact,” she argued.

“No, no, hang on,” you said, shaking your head. You took a step away. “Let’s forget, for five fucking seconds, that my own fiancee didn’t tell me about her visions.”

She blinked once, but otherwise tried to appear unphased.

“Now you think I would hurt- no, kill Mack?” Another step back; the back of your skull tingled. “I would never put his wife and kid through that!”

“I know.”

She said it too quickly. Did she really know? It wasn’t the first time she had potentially accused you of some sort of violence. When your therapist was murdered, she was hesitant about your innocence even though she said otherwise.

She doesn’t believe you.

Yeah, that much was obvious. For all the steps you had taken away from her, she had yet to step closer. Against popular belief, you did have a logical part of your brain. It knew why Wednesday didn’t come closer and chase you.

But the logical side was drowned out by the overwhelming paranoia that was sitting on your chest. It creeped through your arteries, prying open every valve and filling every inch of your heart until you couldn’t breathe and your fingers went cold.

She doesn’t trust you.

You knew that.

She thinks you’re dangerous.

You knew that too.

The walls felt like they were closing in around you. A prison, just for you. You were accutely aware of each and every feather on your wings. Each breath you took rattled in your ears like some kind of ghost.

Out of the corner of your eye, someone was just standing there. Watching you. Waiting for you to lose it and make a mistake. Like usual. Like always.

You couldn’t breathe.

“I can’t do this.” Your voice was so quiet you weren’t even sure if you had psoken at all.

Wednesday didn’t say a word.

The figure creeped closer. Not with steps, no, he never actually moved. He just appeared closer. Your chest felt tighter. A paralysing sense of doom fell upon you. It didn’t land like a blanket, covering you completely. More like it settled on you like snow; small, almost unnoticeable until it was too late and you were trapped under it’s weight.

The figure appeared closer again.

Run.

“I have to go,” you said.

When you turned your head, the figure disappeared back into the shadows.

You had to leave. Something was wrong and you could feel it. It was in the apartment, hiding in some forgotten corner, waiting for you to walk by so it could drag you back to the depths of limbo.

“Where are you going?” Wednesday asked when you stepped into the hallway.

You didn’t know how you had gotten there.

A new feeling crawled into your throat and left a lump.

“Why don’t you ask your visions?” You shot back. Wednesday visibly flinched. “I’m sure they’ll tell you.”

You didn’t wait for an answer before shutting the door and leaving the building.

—---

“What can I get for you, sweetheart?”

You blinked once, and all the sounds of your surroundings assaulted your ears.

The bartender was waiting for an answer.

You stammered out a response, fully unaware of what was requested. The bartender nodded and smiled politely. You blinked once. When your eyes opened again, you were seated on one of the stools at the bar. It was rather nice. The wood was polished so well you could see your sad, pathetic reflection on top of the reddish wood.

“Here you go,” the bartender said softly as he slid the lowball glass in front of you.

By all accounts, it was a lovely-looking drink. A dark amber liquid filled the glass around a singular sphere of ice; a ripoff. The smallest sliver of spiraled orange peel rested precariously on the rim. On closer inspection, you even saw two cherries at the bottom of the glass. Alright, that made up for the lack of liquor.

The glass was cold as you lifted it to your lips and took a sip.

And shuddered.

You hated old fashions.

As the drink disappeared sip by sip, your thoughts ran rampant. After all those years dating, and all that time being friends - or acquaintances, if you asked Wednesday - how could she have never told you about her vision? Not even a hint!

Not even from your so-called friends.

And that was another thing. Had everyone else known? Even just some of them? You didn’t know which was worse. That everyone knew and didn’t fill you in on that important fact, or no one did. Actually, scratch that, you hoped no one knew. At least it meant you weren’t the odd one out.

They all lied to you.

It made you angry; irrationally so. Wednesday, the woman you loved and planned on marrying, hadn’t told you the crucial fact of what her Outcast ability was. She had hidden it from you for years. Had let you stay in the dark.

Just like Nicky.

Maybe… you had some trust issues with psychics.

From the mirror behind the bar, Nicky stared at you with a malice you hadn’t seen in him. It was wrong. He should never have that look about him. Not your Nicky.

But he smiled like him.

“Buy you another round?”

You practically had to rip your eyes away from Nicky’s to face-

“-Mr. Stokes?” You asked incredulously.

“Please, that makes me feel old,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Call me Eric.”

You weren’t sure you wanted to. This was the man who had represented your parents for… well, for as long as you could remember. He had been the one that attempted to give you a shit plea deal. Sure, he had always been nice outside of that. Even when you were younger he had expressed a soft spot for you, which was kind.

But you weren’t sure you wanted to call him by his first name.

“Sure.” You still didn’t call him Eric.

“So can I?” He asked. “Buy you a drink?”

You looked back down at your empty glass. It had not been good. If anything, it had been rather disgusting; you preferred something sweeter. But you could feel a nice little buzz forming in the back of your skull, and for a moment you weren’t quite as upset with Wednesday as you had been. Granted, the more you thought about it, the more upset you got.

Out of the corner of your eye, you studied Stokes. He was looking professional, yet far too casual for your liking. Surely it was inappropriate for you to be talking to him without Moreno, right? You weren’t under arrest but… you learned quickly not to talk to anyone without your lawyer present. What if he questioned you? Or tried to trick you into trouble again? No, Wednesday would have wanted you to keep your mouth shut.

Wednesday lied to you.

On second thought.

“Sure,” you said with a tight-lipped smile.

With the grace of an alcoholic, Stokes ordered something for the both of you. You didn’t bother listening; at the end of the day, it didn’t matter. The plan for the rest of the night had changed slightly, but the gist was the same. Have a drink, get so hammered you can’t fly straight, and go home to beg forgiveness from your hot goth fiancee.

Life was pretty simple.

The dense muscles at the joints of your back tensed, causing your wings to twitch. Your breath caught as you hastily pulled them tight against your back. The last thing you needed was to cause an incident in a nice bar in… well, you weren’t entirely sure where you were, but it was too nice for you, that was for sure.

“You know,” Stokes said in a sleazy tone. “Your parents might not like them, but I find them rather stunning.”

His fingers carded through the feathers closest to him. The simple touch sent a jolt of white-hot shame through your every nerve. He shouldn’t be touching them. They weren’t for him. Almost instantly, you felt dirty. Like you were tainted now that someone who wasn’t an Outcast had touched you.

You hummed a simple “thanks” and shifted, practically hiding your wings from his view. He didn’t need to see them. It wasn’t any of his business. The only ones who could do so were your friends and your family. And even then, touching them was a privilege reserved for the few. It was not a right.

He sighed and sat back on his stool. “Haven’t seen you since your arraignment,” he said. “You look good.” Gag. “How has therapy been?”

A mangled body was leaning against a tree, similar to how you had been when Yoko had found you. The only difference was, while your wings had been outstretched, his arms were stretched in the same way. His clothes were tattered and hanging off a decomposing frame.

“Well, my therapist was murdered and I haven’t found a new one yet,” you shrugged, “so.”

At his shocked silence, you both looked forward facing the bar, and took a large mouthful of your drinks. It didn’t sting like the old-fashioned, which was nice. No, it coated your tongue and the back of your throat in an almost syrupy texture. Too thick for your liking, but again, you weren’t paying, so who were you to complain?

“My, uh, condolences,” he said once he placed his empty glass back on the bar.

He doesn’t care.

No shit. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out.

You took another long drink and inhaled deeply. The overwhelming smell of cigarette smoke infiltrated your senses. Whoever was smoking needed to make themselves known and soon. You always did your best not to smoke because, as everyone always pointed out, it was unsightly. Disgusting, is what Ash had called it. And honestly, you agreed.

But not when you were drunk, and not when you were alone, and certainly not when you were drunk and alone.

Being drunk - you weren’t there quite yet, but you were no quitter - made you realise something extremely important. You missed Wednesday. And you were still mad at her, but you missed her more than you cared about holding a grudge. If she hadn’t told you, surely there had been a reason. Wednesday never did anything without prior planning, so you had no doubt she knew what she was doing. Or even more unlikely, she had genuinely just forgotten you didn’t know. You wouldn’t blame her; your ignorance surprised even you sometimes.

You wanted to go home and see her. Maybe give her an idea or two of how she could make it up to you, and you could spend the entire weekend making amends. And in the throes of passion, you could propose properly and she would lay there and say “I love you, cara mia.” It would be romantic and all kinds of out of character and you didn’t care.

Nicky was in the bar mirror once again as you looked up. He was standing directly behind you with something less malicious in his eyes. Something about him still wasn’t right. It was in the slight tilt of his head. The sneer on his lips. The menacing stance as he stood right behind you and placed his scarred hand on your shoulder.

The mix of scalding heat and freezing cold on your shoulder would have been enough to shock anyone into a heart attack. It spread from his hand, chasing each other further down your arm until the burn scars tingled from the sensation. It was unpleasant. You didn’t want it to stop.

It was an impulse; instinct even, to turn around. He was more similar to a Not Nicky, but you wanted to see him. To look into his eyes again, even just one more time. But when you turned your head and looked, he was gone. Gone because he had never really been there. Gone because you could never really get him back.

You killed him.

“See someone?” Stokes asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

Slowly, you turned back to stare into your drink. “Guess not.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him nod slowly. He wanted to say something else, you knew he did. He was a lawyer, for fuck’s sake, he would never be done talking. As far as you were concerned, it was part of the job, and he fulfilled his duties well.

His knee pushed against yours.

You wanted to see Wednesday.

“I should start heading home,” you said, pulling your leg away from his.

“Why?” He asked with a curious lilt.

“Wednesday is waiting up for me,” you said simply.

“No, she’s not.”

“She is, and I forgot my phone so I’d better get going.”

“Do you even know where you are?”

You froze halfway off the stool. No, you didn’t. Nothing about the bar had been able to tell you where exactly you were in the world. It was easy enough to mark off that you were still in the United States; everyone spoke in a very clear dialect. But aside from that, you had no clue. All you knew was the bar was far too nice for you, and you were starting to feel that bundle of anxiety forming in the bottom of your stomach.

“Since you’re here,” you started, “I’m assuming DC.”

“Don’t be a smartass,” Stokes said quickly. “It doesn’t become you.” He looked you up and down. “Did you two have a fight?”

“She went out with friends,” you lied effortlessly. Or so you hoped. “I hadn’t meant to be gone this long.”

You tried to stand up again. Just as quickly, his warm, clammy hand grabbed your forearm. It was almost instinct to swing on him. You wanted to do it; his smug face was becoming increasingly irritating. The faint conversations and the barely audible piano in the corner eased into your brain. It was calming; a nice reminder that you were in public.

“Please don’t touch me,” you said aloud. I’ll slit your throat, is what you kept to yourself.

“We both know you don’t need to rush home,” he said.

“Excuse me?”

He smiled. It was repugnant. “Your little girlfriend isn’t waiting up for you.”

She was. You knew she was; it was Wednesday. Not once had she ever gone to sleep while you were out, not even a simple nap. She would wait up until you walked through the door. Would she go to sleep immediately after that? Yes, sometimes, but she would never do so without knowing you were safe.

He’s lying.

“I don’t think we should be talking anymore,” you said.

“What, without your lawyer?” He asked with a low chuckle. “You’re not under arrest.”

He was too close. You were able to keep the bar stool in between you, but that didn’t really matter when he kept leaning over it. His thumb was rubbing circles on your inner forearm and you felt sick. It was scratchy and so very unlike Wednesday’s. Hers would have been comforting. This wasn’t.

“Thank you for the drink,” you said softly, refusing to meet his eyes.

Gently, you pulled your arm back towards your body. He let his fingers trail down your arm, tickling the skin until you were released from his clutches. The hair on the back of your neck stood up, but you still refused to look at him. Sometimes, playing meek worked; you hoped it would work again.

You only took two steps away before he spoke.

“How are those murder investigations going?”

Your stomach dropped.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he continued. “Your sheriff called me a few weeks ago.” Don’t turn around. “He asked if I thought you were capable of murder.” Don’t. “Or your little girlfriend.”

No. Wednesday would have never killed someone. She killed that hunter. Okay, she would have never killed someone that didn’t deserve it. Maybe she was creepy, sure, and seemed a little unstable in the moral department, but she was no murderer. Who the hell did he think he was? Who the hell did the sheriff think he was?

When you turned, you were greeted with another ominous grin. You were of half a mind to show him just how capable of murder you really were. He wouldn’t be so smug if he knew half the shit you had done just to survive, let alone for fun. And if he so much as breathed in the direction Wednesday was, you would correct his behaviour promptly and efficiently.

Let him talk, Wednesday’s own voice echoed in your head. Let him talk himself into a corner.

“Obviously I haven’t told him anything yet,” he continued, taking a step closer. “I’d hate to see such a pretty thing locked up.” His hand reached out and grabbed your own, interlocking your fingers. A coil twisted in your stomach.

“What do you want?” You choked out.

You wanted to deck him.

“Some colleagues are coming over to my place,” he said with a shrug, “and I’m due for a promotion.” 

“At,” you looked at his watch, “2 in the morning?”

“It’s a nightcap,” he said coolly. A lie. “Be a dear and be my arm candy for the night, would you?”

The very thought of being his “arm candy” was repulsive. Forget the fact that you were dutifully bound to Wednesday in every way imaginable. This man had known you from the moment you were born. He had watched you grow up and had attempted to assist your parents in throwing you in jail. And he wanted you to help him? It was preposterous, you would never agree to it.

“First thing in the morning, I’ll call your sheriff back and say you and your girlfriend wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Well shit.

Over Stokes’ shoulder, you met Nicky’s eyes in the mirror. This was the moment you needed him to speak again and tell you not to go. That you and Wednesday would be just fine on your own and, quite frankly, the sheriff probably hadn’t even called him. There was no investigation into the both of you, and the police were barely looking into the actual murders let alone the fake ones.

He didn’t say a word. Just a sinister smile that shoved a chill into your spine, leaving your entire body cold. But it quickly passed and you were left with a warmth, spreading from your chest to every fingertip and toe. The message was clear. You nodded once, slowly enough for Stokes to not even notice.

“Let’s go.”

—---

As much as you despised the situation, you couldn’t deny; Stokes’ apartment was ridiculous. It was massive, and not in a tasteful way. You wouldn’t say you were a professional when it came to big spaces, but you knew tasteful. Tasteful was space to exist, but not too much where you felt alone even when other people were around. Tasteful was making the space your own, with knick-knacks or photos or… hell you didn’t know, boy band posters or something.

This wasn’t tasteful. It was obscene; large just to be large. An attempt at proving how impressive you were or how much money you made in a year. There was no pride in such an extravagant show of greed. If you were really looking for big words, you could describe the whole thing as gluttonous.

Wednesday would be so proud of your words.

All the men you were supposed to impress were tools. Absolute, total tools. From the moment you walked into the room with them, they eyed you like a piece of meat. It was humiliating. They even touched your wings after you explicitly told them not to. Fuck normies.

They drank. All of them. Most of the time they didn’t even talk about work, which led you to believe this was not a work function. (Which you secretly knew anyway because, let’s be real, who holds a work function at 2 in the morning?). The only thing they wanted to talk about was you. Not even to you, just about you.

“You could have at least hired someone to wear something nicer,” one of the men said.

Your feathers were, quite literally, ruffled.

“Oh please, she’s no escort,” Stokes said with a dismissive wave and a ridiculously fake laugh. “We go way back.”

The least annoying of the men looked at you. “Is that true, darling?”

Oh, you could gag.

You put on a brave face anyway. “It is,” you said with a polite smile. “Practically since I was in diapers.”

The look Stokes gave you was venomous. It didn’t hold a flame to Wednesday’s stare, but it was a decent attempt for a sleazy man. His grip on your waist tightened, and you barely resisted the urge to stomp on his foot. Sure, it would have been childish, but you honestly didn’t care. This felt like some weird hostage situation anyway, might as well get your way about something.

You could have gagged from how incredibly misogynistic they were. It was almost effortless how they talked down about… well, everyone actually. No wonder Wednesday always had a grudge against rich people even though he was one. The difference between the Addamses and these lawyers was like night and day, ironically. You didn’t think the Addamses could be more selfless, and yet the men around you were still talking of how they could fuck everyone up to stay ahead of the game.

Each of them took their shot at getting your attention. Whether it was brushing against your hand, or letting their fingers graze the sensitive feathers of your wings. Another had even tried - pathetically so - to kiss your neck. It was disgusting, and even worse, it had you rushing back to Stokes’ side. Which he, of course, got the greatest pleasure from.

As the minutes ticked by, your anxiety increased. You wanted to get home and see Wednesday; you wanted to see your family. Things were too chaotic, and all you wanted was for everything to slow down and go back to normal. Nicky was already in the corner of the room, so you were halfway there already! All you needed was Wednesday and things could be normal. Things could be nice.

While you were thinking about how much you missed your fiancee (which wasn’t unusual as it was almost exclusively the only thing you thought about), the pigs- oops, you meant men, finally finished their talks. A godsend, truly, to be able to not have to listen to them talk anymore. They had said so many words that meant absolutely nothing. It was practically enough to ease any resentment you held towards Wednesday’s lying by omission.

Any joy you felt at the men leaving was rapidly replaced with nothing less than genuine fear. They had been the buffer. Now that they were gone, you were stuck with Stokes. Alone. In his apartment. And he was looking at you with the drunken gaze of a predator in a college bar.

“Thank you for that,” he said, his words slurring ever so slightly. “I think you helped my case.”

“Then you better hold up your end,” you said. His head fell to the side as he furrowed his brows. “You’ll tell our sheriff that Wednesday and I weren’t involved in anything.”

His face relaxed. “About that,” he said, stepping closer. You took a step back. “I think there’s one more thing I need from you before I’m willing to make that call.”

Each step he took, you matched. All night you had been forced to put up with his ridiculousness. His wandering hands and eyes. His friends. Now it was time for him to hold up his end of the bargain. He was going to let you and Wednesday off the hook so you could both go be happy again.

When your back finally hit the wall, and Stokes effectively cornered you, you saw Nicky over his shoulder. Standing there; silent as always.

You had admitted to Wednesday that you had been seeing him again. The Not Nicky that had attempted to trap you in the burning house. Coaxing you to stay with thoughts of home and family and peace. But you hadn’t told her he never left. He stayed there, watching you, speaking to you. Becoming such an integral part of your day that if you didn’t see him, your anxiety spiked and your stomach dropped.

But he did not tell you what to do.

“Just one more thing,” Stokes said. His breath reeked of cheap liquor.

“Let me go home,” you said softly. Far softer than he deserved, but you weren’t looking to get your ass beat so late into the night.

His hand cupped your cheek, and you fought back the urge to knee him in the dick. The only person who could touch you like that was Wednesday. She was the only one who held not only the privilege but the right to touch you. Her hands were soft and shockingly cold; they held such a unique form of love.

Stokes had rough hands that left you feeling dirty.

“It’s too late for you to go back now,” he said, breath fanning across your face. “It wouldn’t be gentlemanly if I didn’t have you stay.”

“I’ll be okay,” you said.

Beside you on the table rested a letter opener. A stunning opener with what appeared to be a pure silver handle and a sparkling blade. In the right hands, it was simple yet effective; lethal. He wouldn’t even notice if you reached over to grab it. The amount of alcohol in his system would make it painless, you were sure.

Nicky smiled.

You left it where it was.

“Agreeing to work with your prick of a father was the best thing I’ve ever done,” he said. He was so close, you hoped he couldn’t hear your heartbeat and believe it was excitement. “I always knew you’d be fucking gorgeous.”

Admittedly, you had always assumed your fight or flight response would be fight. After all, you were a rather… aggressive individual. But when Stokes kissed you, you froze. Every cell in your body was in such a panic that you couldn’t do anything. For a moment, everything felt like fog. Like you were looking at yours and Stokes’ bodies from where Nicky was standing. You looked petrified; he looked sloppy drunk.

When you re-noticed his lips on yours, you were yanked back into your own body. Your hands quickly pressed against his chest, pushing him away. There was a string of saliva hanging between your mouths. His eyes were opened wide and staring straight into your soul.

“I’m going home,” you said softly.

You pushed a little more, and he staggered back. Why he wasn’t saying anything, you didn’t know, but his staring was getting creepy. Slowly, you stepped around him, keeping your own eyes on him to make sure he didn’t do any funny business. He didn’t turn to follow you, or even look at you. Just stayed standing where he was, swaying lightly on his feet.

Nicky was gone.

With Stokes staying in his place, you made your prompt exit from the apartment. If he wasn’t going to say anything more, you weren’t going to question it. You just wanted to go home. Home. Your initial thought should have been of yours and Wednesday’s apartment.

That’s not what you imagined.

By the time you stepped out of the apartment onto the dimly lit streets, you were fully convinced of your next stop. It would be a quick flight. The sun still had yet to show itself, but a few people were out and about. Across the street, you saw a group of kids. They were looking at you with wide eyes and were slowly backing away. Perhaps they knew not to go near Stokes; you wouldn’t blame them.

Behind them, Nicky smiled and waved.

“Go home,” he said in a strained voice.

You walked down the street and started making your way towards home.

[ashotofogdensoldfirewhiskey]

How about jealous Ginny for a prompt? I mean there are plenty of jealous Harry stories but for once I want to need to see a jealous Ginny! Loved the overprotective Harry btw❤️🩷

They - quite literally - run into her at the Leaky Cauldron. 

Ginny was walking backward, grinning wickedly at Harry as she tried to surmise just how many photographers would swarm Diagon Alley once word had spread that he was there, while Harry continued to argue he should at least be allowed to don the Invisibility Cloak. 

“No, no, I’ll look insane talking to myself all day. You’ve got to face society, sometime, Potter,” Ginny was saying. “Some would say it’s your responsibility, no your duty to–”

“--my duty?”

“--to spend the day dodging photographers for your girlfriend. Isn’t that your whole deal? Self-sacrificing, hero–”

“Rita Skeeter is worse than Voldemort.”

It was precisely the moment when Ginny let out a loud, unattractive Ha! that her back came into contact with a person turning away from the bar. It’s all a bit of a flurry for a few moments - a folder of papers flutters to the floor, Ginny stumbles and corrects herself with an “Oh Merlin I’m so sorry,” Harry jolts forward helplessly as though to catch… something. 

Ginny turns to apologize more earnestly, when she realizes that she knows the person she’s just crashed into. 

“--I’m such an idiot, are you– Oh! Cho!”

“Er, hi,” Cho Chang says, a bit ruefully. “It’s good to – oh, no, don’t worry, I can–”

Cho flaps her hands uselessly, for Harry has bent over to pick up the papers Ginny had knocked to the floor. 

“Here,” Harry says, stuffing the papers haphazardly back into the folder and thrusting it out toward Cho. 

“Thanks,” Cho says, and then a horribly awkward silence swallows them all. 

Ginny struggles for anything to say. The only idiotic thing she can think to say is - You look pretty - because Cho does. Her silky black hair is swept up into some elegant looking chignon, and it’s clear she’s done up her makeup a bit more than usual. She’s wearing smart robes that are fitted elegantly, and her soft-pink nails are perfectly shaped. 

“Are you two off to Diagon Alley?” Cho says, with an air of desperation to fill the silence. 

“Yes,” Ginny says, latching on to the subject like a life raft. 

“Yeah,” Harry agrees. “Picking up school things for Ginny.”

“Oh!” Cho says, turning to Ginny in surprise. “Do you have another year of school left, then?”

The question, in conjunction with Cho’s very grown-up elegance, leaves Ginny feeling particularly infantile and irritable; their two-year age-gap seems suddenly to span decades. “Yep,” Ginny says, a note of petulance creeping into her tone. “Finishing up my NEWTs.”

“Good for you!” Cho says, in a way that manages not to sound patronizing, even though Ginny's certain it is. “I don’t know if I could go back to school, after every–”

Harry, shooting an alarmed glance at Ginny’s expression, interjects. “Did you do some shopping today, as well?”

“Oh! Er, no. No I… I just finished up a job interview, actually, in one of the back rooms here.”

“Did you?” Harry says, raising his eyebrows. “Nice. Hope it went well.”

“Me too,” Cho says, looking at Harry a bit shyly, now. Ginny narrows her eyes. “Actually, I’m glad I ran into you. The job - it’s in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”

“Really?” Harry says, and he sounds genuinely interested now. “What role?”

“Oh, something administrative. I’m not very interested in field work, I’d much rather be working on the policy side of things, but – well, I’d actually wanted to thank you. Everything was so in flux after—well, in May, and I never got a chance to–”

“Thank me?” Harry says, sounding baffled. “You don’t–”

“I do,” Cho insists prettily, wringing her hands prettily, sounding pretty. “You were so brave, what you did. Facing him. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you– And honestly, I wouldn’t even have had a chance at this job if it weren’t for the DA. I think they only interviewed me because I mentioned I’d been a part of it–”

“Really,” Harry says awkwardly, “it’s nothing, you don’t need to–”

“It’s isn’t nothing, at all!” Cho says emphatically, tucking a silky strand of her hair behind her ear. “You’ve made such a difference for everyone and I’ve been wanting to tell you but I–”

“Don’t be modest, Harry,” Ginny interjects hotly. Cho’s gushing so much they all might drown in it. In fact, Ginny wouldn’t mind all that much if Cho did. 

Harry shoots her a wary look, and then turns back to Cho. “That’s, er, really nice of you to say.”

“I mean it,” Cho says. “I heard you’ve joined the Aurors, is that true?”

“Er, yeah–” Harry says, ruffling his hair anxiously. It strikes Ginny then, as it so often does, that Harry is quite good-looking, now. Not that he hadn’t been, before, but months of regular eating and living out from under the thumb of the threat of constant death has been good to him - go figure. He’s filled out and bought clothes that fit and Ginny’s very much enjoyed it all until this moment, when it strikes her that he could stand to be a bit less handsome, all piercing eyes and messy hair and wry smirks directed at Cho bloody Chang. “I have.”

“I knew you would,” Cho says, like she’s some insider expert on Harry’s tendencies. “We’ll be in the same office, then, if I get this job!”

“Oh!” Harry says, coming up short. “That’s—” he shoots a glance at Ginny. “That’s great.”

“That’s wonderful,” Ginny says in a passable impression of earnestness that she’s positive does not fool Harry. “Really, really, wonderful.”

Cho looks at Ginny as though she’s only just remembered that she’s there. “Yes, well. Are you still interested in doing the Quidditch thing, Ginny?” Cho asks. 

“Oh, who knows?” Ginny says brightly. “Maybe I’ll do the Quidditch thing, or maybe I’ll go be an Auror too. It’ll be a regular party, the three of us.”

Cho’s smile falters a bit. “Yes, that would be lovely.”

“Lovely,” Ginny agrees. “Just lovely.”

Harry coughs, and then they’re plunged into a miserable silence once more. 

“Well,” Ginny says heartily. “We’ve got to get a move on. Those photographers won’t dodge themselves, you know.”

“Oh, of course,” Cho says. “Well, it was lovely to see you both.”

“Lovely,” Ginny agrees. 

“Yeah,” Harry says. 

“Best of luck at school, Ginny,” Cho says, and Ginny hates that she sounds like she means it. “And maybe I’ll be seeing you in the office, Harry.”

“Oh, yeah,” Harry chuckles, “Maybe! Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Cho says, and then she gives them an awkward wave and departs. 

Once the door has closed with a jingle of the bell above it, Ginny turns to Harry, her eyebrows raised.

“Ginny…” Harry says with trepidation. 

“Looks like you’ve got a new office best mate!” Ginny says with supreme sarcasm. “I’ll tell Ron he’s been usurped, he’ll cry for a bit but I’m sure he’ll manage–”

“She might not even get the job–”

“Oh, no. She will. I mean, she name-dropped you and the DA, that’s sure to give her a leg up, never mind that she wasn’t even at school last year with the worst of it, never mind the whole thing disbanded because of her stupid friend–”

“I don’t think that’s what she–”

“I’m just so glad that while I go months without seeing you, you’ll get to pal around with Cho Chang, I was so worried that you’d get lonely without me, but now–”

“Ginny,” Harry says with an awkward laugh. “Come on, you know that’s not how it is.”

“She can go on thanking you for what a bloody hero you are,” Ginny continues. “I don’t think anyone’s told you that in about five minutes, so it’ll be good to get a nice top up from her when you’re feeling down.”

“Well, sure,” Harry joins in. “You know I can’t go more than six without being reminded.”

Ginny pats his chest. “So brave. There. Do you think that’ll last you until we get to the book shop?”

“I might need a quick round of applause in the apothecary.”

Ginny snorts. “Oh, come on, then,” Ginny says. “Maybe we’ll run into Fleur’s little sister, too, if we’re really lucky.”

They make their way through the brick entrance to Diagon Alley - a far cry from the days of the war, the street is bustling and busy once more. They take a circuitous route to Flourish and Blotts, taking care to walk quickly so that not too many people take notice that Harry Potter is in their midst, and because Ginny cannot bear the sight of her brothers’ joke shop, once alive and bustling and colorful and loud, boarded up and quiet. It’s a bit too on the nose. 

They make it nearly to the front door of the book shop before Ginny can’t take it anymore. “Did you hear the way she asked if I was doing ‘the Quidditch thing’?” she snarls, halting them just outside the door. “Like it was some cute little hobby, never mind that she was a Seeker too. Not a very good one, mind, but still!”

Harry has the gall to look faintly amused as he pulls her off to the small alleyway next to the shop. “I’m sure that’s not what she meant. Professional Quidditch is really difficult, she knows–”

“Oh you’re sure, are you?” Ginny spits, rolling her eyes. “Just like she just knew you’d become an Auror? Someone alert Professor Trelawney, we’ve got another Seer on our hands. No one without a powerful Inner Eye could’ve possibly predicted that–”

Harry grins and shakes his head. “You do know I’m not thrilled about this either, don’t you?”

“I can’t imagine why,” Ginny rants. “It’s perfect, your girlfriend will pop off to Scotland and you can hang round with your ex instead!”

“My ex?” Harry says, an eyebrow raised. “We went on one date when I was fifteen and it was terrible.”

“Oh that’s only because you were both traumatized,” Ginny says airily. “I’m sure she’ll be thrilled at the chance to reconnect now that you’re both older–”

“Ginny,” Harry says, the amusement replaced with something firm. “You’re not really worried about this, are you?”

Ginny can’t look him in the eye. She’s so irritated, so bothered, that it takes her a moment - she wants to say yes of course I’m worried, did you see how annoyingly pretty she was and the way she looked at you - but she doesn’t. Because it’s not true, not really. As she’s tried to rebuild in the rubble after the war, Harry’s been the one thing she’s sure of through all of it, and she reckons he feels the same. No, she knows he does. She knows he’s not interested in doing anything with Cho Chang.

Ginny takes a deep, calming breath, and meets his eyes. “I just really fucking hate that she might get to see you every day and I–” her voice catches. 

Harry pulls her in and gives her one of those hugs that seems to calm every cell in her body, like he might be able to shield her from everything bad in the world. She can’t believe that in two weeks, this is a comfort she won’t have, anymore, reduced instead to stolen moments at Hogsmeade weekends and words scribbled in letters.

“I really fucking hate it, too.”

Ginny burrows her head deeper into his chest, and breathes in the woody smell of him. Finally, she says. “You were right, you know. I can admit it.”

“What?”

She pulls back and looks at him. “I really should’ve let you wear that damn Invisibility Cloak.”

[cosyvelvetorchid]

Ummm..how about something fluffy with the word socks. ❤️

Thanks for the cute prompt 🩶

**********

Tommy, unsurprisingly, wasn’t exactly the most cooperative patient. He hated having to rely on others to take care of him. Especially Evan. Their relationship was still fairly new—3 months—and he didn’t fair for him to have to play nursemaid to Tommy.

But then Tommy fell out of—well, blown out of by an exploding stove —a 1st floor window and sustained a nasty concussion and a body full of bruises. The doctors had insisted on keeping him in hospital (jail) for 2 or 3 days. He’d managed to barter for time off his sentence if he promised to take at least 2 weeks off work and they agreed to keep him in for only one night.

After Evan had been convinced that Tommy wasn’t actually going to die—at least not tonight—and he could go home, he reluctantly—after begrudgingly peeling himself from Tommys body—left.

Tommy settled into his bed and after not finding anything interesting to watch on the TV hanging from corner, he ended up mindlessly watching a shopping channel. Just as he was beginning to believe that actually he did need a set of 15 cooking pans despite barely being able to make anything more complicated than a chilli, the door to his hospital room opened.

“Evan.” He whined. “I told you to go home.”

“I know, I know, and I will. I just wanted to go by your place first and pick you up a few things.” He said lifting the backpack from his shoulder and placing it on the bed

“You didn’t need to do that, babe.”

“I know. But I know how much you hate being in hospital so I thought I’d bring you some home comforts.” He unzipped the bag and began pulling things out before Tommy had the chance to argue.

“I got the basics—toothbrush, deodorant, fresh underwear, and a change of clothes for when they discharge you tomorrow. I gotcha a hoodie in case you get cold-“ Tommy couldn’t fail to notice it was one of Evan’s ones—the light blue one he’d worn when Maddie and Howie got married. He chose to not mention it—he knew he’d fall asleep in his hospital bed with his face snuggled into it. “The book you’re in the middle of reading and ooh-“ He looked around to make sure nobody nurses were around “-I’ve hidden a bag of those chocolate covered raisins you like at the bottom of the bag.”

Tommy was a little annoyed that Evan had gone out of his way to do this, but he couldn’t deny the adoring look on Evan’s face when he was trying to take care of him. Tommy could argue the point and tell it wasn’t necessary, but Evan seemed so genuinely happy to share this small act of kindness, he couldn’t take that away from him.

“Thank you, babe. I appreciate it.” He reached into the bag to snag the raisins and instead handled something soft. He pulled out a pair of thick black fluffy socks.

“Oh.” Evan said nervously. “I forgot I’d put them in there.”

“Socks?”

“Th-they’re my, uh.. magic socks.” He replied; a flush of embarrassment flushed across his cheeks. Tommy raised an eyebrow.

“Magic socks?”

“Y-yeah. Well, I mean.. that’s what Maddie used to call them when I-i was a kid. Whenever I was sick or hurt—which, you know, was a lot—she’d always patch me up and-and if I was upset she’d give me a pair of her fluffy socks to wear; said they were magic socks designed to make me feel better. Obviously, she was just trying to make me feel better and it was just the placebo effect, but whenever I wore them I did feel a little better. So I brought you mine to-“

“..to make me feel better.” Tommy finished. Tommy felt the fondness for his boyfriend thick in his throat. Nobody had ever cared enough about him to do something so little, yet so full of care. He’d never met anybody who so consistently showed him such affection. His insides—doing as they had continually done over the last 3 months—turned to goo at Evan’s loving gesture.

“I love you, Evan.”

They hadn’t said it yet. Tommy was sure he’d felt it within the first month but didn’t want to pressure Evan while he was the one setting the pace. But he couldn’t hold it in any longer. He needed Evan to know how much this gesture meant to him.

“It’s okay if you don’t-“

Evan stepped closer to the hospital bed and took Tommy’s face gently in his hands and kissed him. Just a few chaste kisses, but Tommy felt every tiniest bit of affection Evan had for him.

“I love you too..” he smiled softly, running a delicate hand through Tommys hair.

“Yeah?” He couldn’t help but grin.

“Yeah.” Evan nodded delivering another kiss.

“Good.” Tommy decided. “Will you do one thing for me?”

“Anything, Tommy.” He smiled.

“Go home!”

[mango-yoyo]

you have really good taste in fanfics in the tag game so was wondering if you would mind sharing so more of your favourites?

oh my god YES

i would love to thank you for asking <3

because i have no self control, i'm going to restrict myself to 3 5 10

1. the condominium community committee by @jusst-you-race . it's funny, it's light-hearted, and it has all the good feels. honestly it's the chat fic of chat fics, where the grid all lives in the same apartment building and have different lives, but are still super close! if you're feeling a bit down or if you want something fun, this is a great fic to read! status: WIP. word count: 28K+

2. crash landers by @janinaduszejko . carcar omegaverse my beloved, where oscar is an alpha and carlos is (secret) omega. a little bit angsty, a lot bit smutty, and overall delightful. it hurts a little bit, but it feels so good, and there's a happy ending! status: completed. word count: 57K+

3. i’m going back to 505 (if it’s a seven hour flight or a forty five minute drive) by julodinae_sunsets. another omegaverse (my weakness) but this time it's maxiel, where daniel is an alpha and tries to court max by accident, but stops himself because OBVIOUSLY max is an beta and doesn't want that. well. he's wrong. but second chances exist for a reason. it's really enjoyable so far, and it's made me grin stupidly way too many times, so. it's a win! status: WIP. word count: 19K+

4. Don't Want Your Sympathy (Just Your Company) by @1425fivefive . landoscar, where oscar is outed via blurry photos of him kissing another guy at the club. to get his mind off it, lando offers to have him stay at his place for the summer. a very cute teammates to friends to lovers, with a little bit of hurt but a lot of comfort. and smut. also, logan is best friend goals, honestly, and the little pockets of humor make you laugh when you least expect it. status: completed. word count: 64K+

5. Sunlight by @onboardsorasora . an absolutely delightful magical realism au (my other weakness) with a dewis pairing. they're one of the authors that got me into the pairing in the first place! people are touched by the elements in varying degrees. some people aren't touched, while others are touched by rare elements (like sunlight). daniel doesn't think he's touched by any. it's whumpy and a bit angsty but so, so sweet. honestly a lot of fluff too, with a sweet ending. status: completed. word count: 10K+

6. Loud and Clear by @oscatmeowstri . race engineer oscar with driver lando au, landoascar. it was wonderful. the formatting was so cool, and their relationship developed really well, from colleagues(?) to friends to occasional kissing buddies to lovers. some angst, but it's resolved pretty quickly, and there are lot of fluffy moments. status: WIP. word count: 48K+

7. cheap wedding (sticky pretenses) by @wormeo-and-juliette . i know i've mentioned the strollonso work by her before, but this is also so, so good. honestly, all her works have got me in a chokehold. it's lesteban, with a marriage of convenience (that eventual turns into love!). lance shows up in rural France, meets esteban, decides they're both lonely, and proposes marriage. absolutely delightful, and there's even the public coming-out which had me squealing. status: completed. word count: 12K+

8. champagne problems by @brocedesmadhouse . it's a love story to brocedes, and it's beautiful, heart-wrenching, and utterly amazing. toto gets replaced with a new team principal — who happens to be nico rosberg. it's set during the 2024 season, and it made me both cry and laugh — sometimes at the same time. absolutely wonderful. status: completed. word count: 60K+

9. empty streets, it's only you and me now by @the-ships-to-rule-them-all . intriguing and sweet, it's an exploration of Jewish folklore and golems, with sweet, sweet strollonso. lance has a golem, who happens to be incredibly protective of fernando. lance also happens to be in love with fernando. it's very cute and has the perfect plot-to-smut ratio. status: completed. word count: 5K+

10. k19tog (knit 19 together) by @nobrakesdown . really sweet and lovely, it's set in the 2022 season with seblance teammates. lance is a knitter, and seb convinces lance to teach him — and eventually, the rest of the grid. really heartwarming, and it has serious grid-as-family vibes that had me smiling like an idiot when I read it. also got me interested in the fiber arts, and it's really cool! status: completed. word count: 7K+

there are so many more fics that i could rec, but the sake of this post (and my need to study) i will limit it to just 10. please let me know how you like these recs, and feel free to rec for more (and if there are any particular pairings you're looking for)! this was a lot of fun, thanks for asking!

[essjujutsu]

CHAPTER Ⅳ: SATO-WHO?

prev , next , masterlist

"he can't be that bad at driving yuji, can he?"

"you won't say that when he driving 65 on a 40 and you think that you're gonna die—and like your whole entire life flashes before your very eyes in the passenger seat!"

"well, maybe give him the benefit of the doubt—maybe he impoved since then...?"

wow, you reallllly took that back when you got into the car.

"uhm, uncle sukuna—i'm like 99% sure that was a red light.."

"do i look like i give a shit? you kid's wanna get to your stupid friends house or not!"

is this what it feels like when you die? maybe soon you'll be in a warmer place looking up at your friends who are all hanging out without you and yuji, 'cause you 'freakin died and—

is this a fucking gated community?

"damn, didn't know you two hung out with the rich kids now. better not ask me to get you designer clothes or something-"

"yeah, yuji—you never told me megumi was rich!"

"sukuna—i've been friends with megumi since like, middle school! you know him, the one with the spikey black hair!"

"the emo brat?"

that comment makes yuji erupt into a fit of laughter, you watch from the backseat—turning your head towords the car window to look at the fancy houses.

"it's this one right here, number 707!"

yuji says, pointing a bit forword to a tall black metal gate—you couldn't even see the house from where the car was, the tall trees, large gate and perfectly-trimmed bushes outside the house.

you think back to what yuji had said earlier about megumi's upbringing—so this was his adopted parent's house? you weren't sure how long he had lived with them, hopefully he wasn't some spoiled brat rich kid like the ones you used to go to school with.

sukuna slammed the breaks as the car approached the sharp metal gates in front of you, he rolled the window down and shoved his head out of it.

"'scuse me?! how the hell do i get in?"

he scrunced up his eyebrows and rubbed his head, as he looked for some sort of speaker attached to the gate—just then a loud voice came from a small speaker attached to the stone at the end of the gate.

"at the beep, please state your bussiness for your entrance." beep!

"got two kids here, coming to see the kid—what's his name—megumi."

a second later, the gates slowly opended—revealing a long winding driveway.

as sukuna (somehow) drove down it, you looked at the large white house mansion that appeared in front of you—wow.

"thanks unc!! you can pick us up at like...i 'dunno, nine or something."

"you kids expecting drives everywhere now? yeah, yeah, i'll get 'ya two"

you said a quick bye as you and yuji hopped out of the passanger and back seats.

"holy, his house is huge!"

you say, elbowing your brother in the arm as you two approach the grand front doors.

the house was huge, it had large marble pillars outside of it for god's sake! you had no clue megumi was this rich, and why the hell was he going to public school anyways then? at least he was humble about it.

yuji rung the doorbell as you two stood in front of the sizeable doors, he looked down at his wrist to check his watch.

"we must be the last ones here, even though sukuna ran like, 5 red lights were somehow still a little late."

you laugh at his words, as you hear footsteps approach the doors, just then a tall white-haired man opens the door enthusistcally— thursting his arms to each side as in the open them wide for a hug.

"yuji! there you are, your friends were all waiting for you to show up—and oh who is this! you must be—"

oh, this was the gojo that megumi mentioned—he defiantly was...chatty.

"hi, im not sure if megumi mentioned me, but im yn—im yuji's sister."

"yes, yes, he did mention you!"

gojo replied, bringing you and yuji into a tight hug—wow, this might be the friendlist person you've met.

yuji returns the hug as you stand there slightly awkwardly, not used to sudden affection like this. though then, you hear footsteps agian coming towards the door.

"gojo, i just told you not to talk to any of my friends."

"megumi! i'm just getting aquatinted here—"

megumi didn't let gojo finish, he rolled his eyes and grabbed yuji by the arm—tilting his head beckoning you to follow him aswell.

"thank you for having me over—"

you spit out to gojo, trying to keep up with megumi yanking yuji into the large house.

"come on, everyone's upstairs already."

A/N: hi guys !! sorry for not posting for a while, school has been actaully killing me and this was originally supposed to be longer but i cut it shorter </3 i'll try to get more consisnt w/ posting but no promises also i dont know how rich people work so bear with me LMAO

TAGLIST: ( ask 2 be added ) @1ndee @4ngelfries @jammofsammichflip @notveevee @qtnfer @love-me-satoru @satoryaa @loriisheart @starrnai @madison777x @madison777x @mdmraz @saltypuffin1040 @ichorstainedskin @1l-ynn @linalinabobina if it doesn't work, fix ur settings pls!

[zomtart]

A Second Pillow (Frank Castle x Fem!Reader)

Hello!! Please pretend I'm not 3 days late lmaooo...here's my first addition to the lovely Tuna-Tober!

Tuna-Tober Day 1: Falling Asleep In A Hospital Room

Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader

Warnings: hospital, mention of injuries, a little bit of angst with fluff

Word Count: 600

“Frank,” you said quietly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. He hadn’t let go of you since he got here, hadn’t taken his eyes off you, hadn’t stopped making sure you were safe. “You can go home. I’m okay.”

“Not a chance, sweetheart,” he responded, his voice even lower than usual with how he was fighting to stay awake. It was past three in the morning, and you’d both been here since noon when he had rushed you to the emergency room. “If they wanna discharge you tomorrow morning, I’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

You smile fondly, your thumb rubbing back and forth on his hand. “I appreciate the chivalry, but you look like you’re going to pass out. At least go get some coffee.”

He just shakes his head, shifting slightly in his seat. “I'm fine. You warm enough? Need another pillow?”

Frank, to most, seemed like an impassive man. His set jaw, his furrowed brows, his constant attempts to keep this expression blank, it all pointed to the conclusion he wasn’t bothered in the slightest. But you knew him. You knew his insistence on staying put, his frequent scans of the room, and the periodic twitching of his index finger meant he was worried out of his mind. He knew you were safe. Logically, he knew you were going to be fine. But the sight of you in a hospital bed had him on edge. He felt compelled to find the threat, something he could put down to keep you alive and well. 

“Frank,” you said softly. “I’m okay. It’s just a broken bone.”

“Two broken bones.” he corrected gruffly.

You gave him a nonchalant shrug. “One broken bone, two broken bones…the only difference is gonna be my hospital bill.” you tried for a laugh but only got a grimace. You sat up and put your other hand below your joined ones, bringing them up to kiss his.

“I’m okay. I’m safe. I’m with you. Alright?”

He just stared at you for a moment, his eyes unconvinced and wavering. 

With a small grunt you move yourself to the right and pat the open spot next to you. “C’mon, big guy. You need some sleep.”

“I’m fine—“

“If you’re not gonna listen to me when I say I’m fine, I won’t listen to you when you say it. Come on.” you pat the spot again. When he doesn’t move, you cross your arms and raise an eyebrow. “Really? You would deny a woman cuddles?”

That cracked his shell, a twitch in his lips making him smile, just a little bit. It was the world to you. 

“There’s barely enough room on that mattress for you by yourself--”

You sighed, shaking your head and feigning offense. “No, no, I see how it is. I guess I’ll just have to sleep in here all by myself. Alone. Cold. Wounded--”

“Oh hell--”

You beamed as he climbed in next to you, moving close to him to rest your head on his chest.

“Easy, easy, be careful, honey.” he grumbled, enveloping your body in his arms, careful to not bump into your injuries. 

Once you were both settled and comfortable you sighed, letting your eyes drift shut. His fingers trailed back and forth on your forearm in a soothing motion, pressing a kiss to the top of your head every now and then. It wasn’t long before you both fell asleep, the sound of each other’s breathing a soothing lullaby.

@tunatober

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

Bound by Duty

Summary: Y/n is a Spring Court fae who’s loyal to Tamlin. Once she’s allowed to visit Feyre, she starts developing feelings for Cassian. But their love was never meant to be…

A/N: y/f/f = your favorite flower.

Warnings: angst, mention of abuse toward the end, Y/n being in denial about it.

Word Count: 3.1 K.

The Spring Court had always been a place of comfort, beauty and peace. But lately, it felt suffocating. When Feyre came into your lives, she ignited something in Tamlin, and you grew to become close friends. With her gone, it felt empty, especially with Tamlin throwing fits of rage and being his broody self.

Before Feyre came into his life, you had been his source of joy amidst the curse and all. He had saved your life, and ever since, you stayed by his side, never refusing him a request. After Feyre left, you grew apart- or rather, he did.

“What’s wrong?” his voice cut through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. You blinked, almost forgetting that the two of you were eating dinner until he spoke. His brow was furrowed, concern flickering in his green eyes.

“Nothing” you lied, forcing a smile to your lips, though it felt strained.

“Don’t lie to me” he said, his voice growing firmer as he set his fork down, leaning closer. His eyes narrowed slightly as they searched your face “I know you. Something is bothering you”.

“What makes you think that?” you mumbled, your fingers idly playing with the food on your plate, unable to meet his eyes.

“You used to be full of life- happy. Now, you rarely even smile” he said, his expression softening, a flicker of something vulnerable flashing across his face.

“Oh! I hadn‘t realized that” you responded, blinking in surprise. You hadn’t noticed the change yourself, too distracted by everything weighing on your mind.

“Well?” He pressed, his eyes never leaving yours “What’s going on with you?”.

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll sort it out” you gave him another fake smile.

“There you go again, pretending that everything is fine when it’s not. Now, tell me what’s wrong”.

You sighed deeply, trying to keep your voice steady as you looked down at your lap “I don’t want to upset you”.

“You already have by not telling me”.

“Fine… I miss Feyre. I wish I could just visit her” you didn’t mean to say the last sentence- at least not out loud.

“Oh” you could see the pain on his face. He was silent for a moment, thinking about something. “If you wish to see her, you can go. You’re not my prisoner, Y/n. You may do as you please”. One look into his eyes and you could tell that he was afraid that you’d leave him too.

“I know that, but I don’t want to leave you. You come first” you said softly, your voice soothing as you reached out and gently placed your hand on his.

“Do you mean it?” he asked, his voice betraying his surprise.

“Of course. Tamlin, you saved my life. I’m indebted to you, and I’ll forever be grateful to you. I won’t go if you don’t want me to”.

“If it’ll make you happy, go! You have my blessing” he murmured, though his expression remained conflicted.

“Thank you” you said, offering him a genuine smile this time, one that felt real as your heart lightened.

—

Stepping into the Night Court felt like stepping into an entirely new world. You hadn’t left the Spring Court in years, and anxiety prickled at your skin. Not only were you nervous about traveling alone, but you’d heard stories about the Fae who lived here.

You had sent Feyre a word of your arrival and she informed you that one of her most trusted men would be there to pick you up.

Just as you looked up at the sky, a massive male with wings descended gracefully, his broad shoulders and muscular build making him appear more imposing. He was handsome- strikingly so- and you found yourself momentarily speechless.

“Are you Y/n?” he asked, his voice deep yet calm, though he raised an eyebrow at your wide-eyed stare.

“I- uh, yes, I am” you stammered, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you realized you’d been staring.

“Cassian” he introduced himself, extending his hand to you with a charming grin. “Nice to meet you” When you didn’t immediately react, his expression shifted to confusion “Are you alright?”

“Sorry” you quickly shook his hand, feeling the strength in his grip as warmth flooded your cheeks again. “I’m just nervous. This is my first time traveling alone”.

He chuckled “That’s alright. Come on, let’s go” he said, extending his hand once more, this time to help you as he prepared to take flight.

You hesitated for only a moment, before placing your hand in his, feeling the calluses of a warrior on his palm. His wings stretched wide as he effortlessly lifted you into the sky.

Arriving at the House of Wind, you saa Feyre waiting with the rest of the Inner Circle. Your heart lightened at the sight of your friend, but as you approached, a winged male with a more intimidating presence stepped in front of her, his gaze sharp.

“Az, that’s not necessary” Feyre said, stepping past him and wrapping her arms around you in a warm hug.

“She could be a spy for all we know” Rhysand added, his tone casual, yet assessing.

“You promised me you’d behave” Feyre turned and gave her mate a pointed look.

“I- I’m not, I’m not a spy” you stammered, your voice faltering as you tried to defend yourself, feeling your cheeks flush under Rhysand’s scrutiny.

Feyre smiled warmly at you “It’s alright, don’t worry about them. They can be mean to strangers sometimes” she reassured you, her hand gently squeezing yours.

“Hey, not all of us” Cassian chimed in with a playful grin, earning an eye roll from Feyre.

“Are you joining us for dinner, my lady?” Cassian asked, his voice carrying a teasing lilt as his eyes flicked to yours.

“I- uhm” you looked at Feyre, uncertain if you were welcome to stay that long.

“Of course she is. You are, right? You’ve come a long way, you must stay the night” Feyre insisted.

“I-” you wanted to object but seeing Feyre all hopeful, you relented “alright, but I have to leave early in the morning”.

—

While most of the IC remained distant, Feyre and, surprisingly, Cassian were friendly, making you feel more comfortable. Cassian in particular seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say.

“Even if relations weren’t strained, I would not be able to enjoy the Spring Court” Cassian remarked, his tone casual as he leaned back in his chair.

You turned to him, a slight frown tugging at your lips “Oh! And why is that?”

“I have an allergy” he admitted with a half-smile, causing Feyre to chuckle softly.

“That must be horrible… you must really hate flowers, then?” You asked, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

He shrugged with a small grin “I don’t hate them. I just can’t be near them. I do enjoy observing them, though. There’s something about appreciating beauty that you can never have”.

“Since when are you a poet?” Rhys teased, earning a sharp glare from Cassian.

Cassian tried to quickly divert your attention “What’s your favorite flower?”

“Uhm, I do like many flowers. After all, they’re unique in their own way. But if I must choose, then y/f/f. What about you?”.

Cassian grinned awkwardly “Me? My favorite flower is also y/f/f. What a coincidence!” he chuckled, clearly lying but trying to play it off.

The evening continued pleasantly, and talking to Cassian made you forget about the tension and your worries. You didn’t want the night to end, but eventually it had to.

Cassian volunteered to escort you to the quarters you were staying in for the night. As the two of you walked down the dimly lit hallway, the air between you shifted. Silence hung heavy for longer than you had hoped, the only sounds being your footsteps echoing in the corridor.

Cassian glanced sideways at you, his lips parting slightly before he finally broke the silence “Will you be coming back soon?”.

You hesitated, lowering your gaze to the floor as you walked“Oh, I don’t know. Your friends didn’t seem too keen on having me here.”

Cassian gently bumped your shoulder with his “Don’t worry about them. They’ll come around. Besides, Feyre was happy to see you… and I was glad to meet you” he admitted, his voice growing quieter at the last part.

You finally looked up, meeting his gaze “Really? You don’t think I’m Tamlin’s spy? Here to tell him everything about you?” you teased.

He chuckled lightly, shaking his head “No, Y/n. I don’t believe you’re a spy” he said softly, a subtle, almost shy smile playing on his lips.

You sighed, your smile fading as you reminded him “I still have my duties, just like you have yours.”

Cassian’s expression tightened briefly, his brow furrowing as he spoke again “Of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you” his hand twitched at his side, as though he wanted to reach for you but stopped himself.

“No, no. It’s fine. I’d like to come back soon” you reassured him quickly, offering a soft smile in return.

Cassian’s face brightened at your words, his eyes gleaming with hope “And I’d love that very much”.

“I believe this is my room” you averted his gaze again.

“Right, yes. Yes, it is. I bid you goodnight” he stepped back slightly, clearing his throat.

“Goodnight, Cassian” you whispered, lingering for a moment before closing the door behind you. As it clicked shut, you felt a spark ignite your heart, an unfamiliar lingering in your chest.

—

It had been a while since your last visit, and when Cassian heard you were coming, he couldn’t hide his excitement.

This time, Rhys insisted on picking you up, leaving Cassian a little disappointed. He paced the living area of the House of Wind, his wings twitching with nervous energy as he impatiently awaited your arrival. Every minute that passed seemed like an eternity.

“They’re taking too long, don’t you think?” Cassian turned abruptly to Azriel, who leaned casually against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, watching his brother with a knowing smirk.

“Relax, Cassian. They’ll be here any minute now. What has gotten into you?” Azriel smirked, knowing exactly why his brother was behaving this way, yet he decided to tease him.

Cassian huffed, running a hand through his hair in frustration “Nothing. I- I- it just, you know how Rhys can be. What if he threatened her and she decided to go back?” his voice held a slight edge of panic as he considered every possible worst-case scenario.

“You worry too much, brother. I don’t think Rhys is going to threaten her. After all, she is Feyre’s friend. He’ll treat her as such… but with caution, of course. She does work for Tamlin” Azriel reminded.

Just then, you stepped into the room, awkwardly waving, with Rhysand close behind you “Hey.” Cassina’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of you and he found himself staring.

Azriel gave a polite nod, while Cassian blinked, finally snapping out of his daze.

“It’s been a while” you said with a smile, trying to ease the tension.

“Far too long” Cassian replied quickly, his words coming out in a rush. “I- I mean Feyre missed you. She wondered when you’d be back”.

“Was it Feyre or you, Cassian? Because I do recall you asking her every day if Y/n was coming soon” Rhys exposed him and you chuckled.

Cassian’s face flushed, and he stammered “I- it’s- I” He couldn’t find an excuse fast enough.

“I have something for you” you approached him and offered him y/f/f in a glass container “this way you can have it without your allergy acting up”.

Cassian’s eyes widened in surprise, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of red “You actually brought me y/f/f. This is brilliant. Thank you” he said, his voice flustered as he took the gift, holding it like it was the most precious thing he’d ever received.

Rhys, ever the instigator, smirked again “I believe this is the first time I’ve seen you blush, Cas”.

“Shut up. You’re just jealous you didn’t get a flower” Cassian shit back with a playful shrug. You shook your head, smiling to yourself. For scary males, they certainly acted like children. It was not what you imagined at all.

Time passed, and your visits to the Night Court became more frequent. What began as excuses to see Feyre evolved into something else- you found yourself coming back for Cassian. You timed your visits for moments you knew Feyre would be busy, relishing the chance to spend more time alone with him. Your friendship deepened, but neither of you dared to speak of the feelings that lingered beneath the surface.

This all changed one day, as the two of you strolled by the riverbank. Cassian noticed something different about you- your usual joy was absent, and the weight of something unsaid hung in the air.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, stopping in his tracks.

You stiffened at his question, turning your face away to avoid his gaze “Why would you think anything is wrong?” you snapped defensively.

Cassian’s expression softened with concern. He placed hus hands gently on your upper arms, forcing you to stop walking. His grip was light but steady as he tilted his head down to meet your eyes. “We’ve known each other for almost a year now. I think I know when something is bothering you” he said quietly, his voice laced with tenderness.

You winced at his touch, the sudden sound not going unnoticed. Cassian’s eyes narrowed as he lowered his gaze to your arm, his fingers brushing against the fabric of your sleeve “Y/n, what is wrong?” his eyes began scanning your body, searching for any sign of injury.

“It- it’s nothing. Let’s just go” you stammered, stepping back slightly. You knew that if he found out, this wasn’t going to end well.

“No. Stop, please. Come on, tell me what’s wrong. Don't shut me out” he begged, his eyes searching yours for any clue.

“It really is nothing. I just bumped into the wall” you lied and knew he wouldn’t believe it.

Cassian’s jaw clenched as he raised his hand toward the top of your sleeve, fingers lightly grazing your shoulder. “May I?” he asked, his voice gentle, but his eyes filled with a fierce protectiveness. You nodded reluctantly, and he carefully lowered the fabric, revealing the dark bruise on your upper arm.

“Y/n, this isn’t from bumping into a wall, is it?” his voice was dangerously calm.

“Let it be, Cassian.” You whispered, pulling your sleeve back up as you turned away.

“This is Tamlin’s work, isn’t it?” his voice trembled with barely restrained fury, and you could see him struggling to keep his emotions in check.

You sighed, unable to deny it. “And what if it was?”

Cassian’s nostrils flared, his jaw clenching so tightly you could almost hear the grind of his teeth “That fucking monster. I’m going to kill him” he hissed, his wings twitching in agitation behind him.

You immediately stepped forward, placing a hand on his chest to stop him. “You can’t!”

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t”.

“I owe him my life” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Not anymore, you don’t. Not after what he’s done to you. Not after you’ve endured all these years by his side.”

Your throat tightened, and you shook your head, trying to make him understand “You don’t understand. Tamlin is not the monster you think he is. He didn’t do it on purpose, alright? He had one of his outbursts, a moment of rage. He didn’t mean to hurt me.”

“Now you’re finding excuses for him? He doesn’t deserve your love and kindness.” He reached out, his hand cupping your cheek gently.

You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch just for a moment before pulling away “That is for me to decide.”

“You can’t see it, can you? He is abusive. Look at what he did to Feyre. What he’s done to you. You say it was an accident, but what happens next time? What happens the next time he loses control? He needs to be stopped”.

“Please, you can’t go” you begged again, your voice breaking. You placed a hand on his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles.

“Why not?”

“You will disrupt the peace between the courts.”

“To hell with peace. I don’t care about any of that. He.Hurt.You.”

You reached up, cupping his face to calm him “Please, Cassian. If you're not going to do it for peace, then for my sake.”

Cassian’s eyes fluttered closed as he leaned into your touch, his shoulders sagging slightly Z the weight of his anger began to subside. He placed his hand over yours, holding it against his cheek as he exhaled slowly. “Alright, I won’t do anything. But you can’t go back to him.”

You shook your head slowly, knowing this was the moment you had been dreading “I have to.” You pulled your hand away from his cheek, stepping back.

Cassian reached for you instinctively, his hand grasping your arm gently as if to stop you “No, please don’t.”

You swallowed hard, the tears finally spilling over as you stood on your tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. The world seemed to stop as his breath hitched, and his hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer. He kissed you back, his lips warm and tender against yours. One of his hands moved to the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he deepened the kiss, as if trying to hold onto this moment for as long as he could.

When you finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours. “Please stay” he whispered against your lips, his voice raw with emotion.

You closed your eyes, wanting nothing more than to say yes, but knowing you could ‘t. “I can’t.” You whispered, stepping back. His hands lingered on your waist before finally falling to his sides. “I must leave. I think it’s a good idea that I don’t visit for a while” you said, your heart breaking with every word.

“What? No, no. If it is because of what I said, then I’m sorry. I just-”.

You placed a hand on his cheek again, cutting him off gently. “Hey, it has nothing to do with you… I’ve been spending a lot of time here lately, that I’ve neglected my duties back home.” This was one way of saying it. The truth was, Tamlin started to get jealous that you were spending more time with Feyre at the Night Court. He felt left out and that triggered his fit of rage. But of course, you couldn’t tell Cassian that. So the best thing to do was to stop your visits for a while…or forever.

[sweetteaanddragons]

(I See Your Wife with) A Man Who is Haunting

”Him?”

This was not how Fingolfin had intended to start this conversation. Faced with the gangly elf carving a barely passable wooden bird beneath Nerdanel’s apple tree, however, it was the only word that managed to come out.

The elf jumped a little, apparently having not noticed Fingolfin’s rather thundering entrance. The knife in his hand skittered, scarring the wood.

It was, of course, none of Fingolfin’s business, but still - 

Him?

Nerdanel peered down from her perch in the apple tree, skirt full of apples. “Hello to you too,” she said dryly. “No, it’s fine, Partano - “

She was not in time to stop this Partano from bowing.

Fingolfin had to fight the urge to grab him by the shoulders and shake him vigorously until Nerdanel reconsidered if there might be something wrong with this picture.

It was not, he tried to convince himself, that Nerdanel was hoping to remarry. Her case to the Valar had been . . . perfectly sound. Inarguable, when looking at the precedent of his own parents.

It was only . . . “Partano?” he repeated a little weakly. He would have expected Nerdanel to pick someone a little more . . .

Well, a little more like his brother, he supposed. If there was an elf like that to be found.

Failing that, he would have at least expected her to pick someone a little more likely to be able to fight off the horde of Feanaro’s surviving supporters who would be out looking for blood the moment the news got properly out.

Partano was currently looking rather nervously between his king and his . . . his fiancee, Fingolfin supposed. His eyes had gone very wide.

Nerdanel rolled her own. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she told him, letting the apples roll from her skirts to the ground and leaping lightly down after them. “He’s my healer. He’s been checking on me since he got back from the Halls.”

The implied ridiculousness of this her tone was attempting was rather undercut by how sharply her bones stood out against her skin.

“Ah.” Fingolfin at last left the comfort of his horse’s back. “Forgive me. I just heard - “

“And assumed the first man in my vicinity must be the reason for my petition to the Valar, yes.”

“I won’t be the only one,” he protested in meager defense.

“Why don’t I just - take your horse to the stable? My king?” Partano tried.

“Thank you,” he said, trying for graciousness. “My apologies to you, as well.”

They watched him leave together before turning back to each other.

“Really?” Nerdanel said the moment he had gone. “You thought my second choice for a husband would be a nice healer who hates the thought of someone having a sharp word with him?”

He threw his hands up. “It would have been a change. I thought maybe - “

He had not been thinking at all, really.

It was a weakness of his when he got such news.

“Maybe you wanted a change,” he said more softly. He let his hands fall. “I did mean to be a little less prying about this.”

She leaned back against the tree trunk. He wished it didn’t look like she needed the help. “Hm,” she said critically. “I was expecting Arafinwe to be the one nominated to come.”

Fingolfin decided not to mention that there hadn’t really been time for a discussion, as such. One of the advantages of sovereignty was that there really didn’t have to be.

“Your actual intended. Is he . . . nice?”

She snorted. “I don’t marry nice. I told you that already.”

“Is he nearby?”

“Not presently. Are you going to ask me his name at any point, now that we’ve ruled out Partano?”

“What is his - “

“On the other hand, it might be funnier the other way. You’ve ruled out Partano; who would you like to guess next?”

Fingolfin gave up on that line of questioning and went to sit in Partano’s place under the shade of the tree. It meant he could only see her out of the corner of his eye; that made it a little easier. “I know you are not well,” he said quietly. “Is that why?”

She sighed. “Oh, I suppose that’s a part of it, selfish as it is. If that’s all it was, though, I would have waited. I do know just how much I’m asking. Mostly it’s Makalaure.”

That was quite possibly the last thing he had expected. “Is he - have you - “

“He’s still alive,” she said impatiently. “I know that much.” Her breath hitched a little. “No other word to even the Valar for a thousand years, but that much I know. Whatever cursed dungeon hides him from their sight, he is still alive.”

He had known, when he was in the Halls, that the last of Feanaro’s sons was not dead. It was not until he had emerged, not so very long ago, that he had learned ‘not dead’ was all anyone this side of the sea knew now.

Anyone at all.

It might not be some hideous forgotten dungeon of Sauron’s. It might be -

Well. It might be some hideous forgotten torment of someone else. Nerdanel was not the only one who feared.

He did not see how this would help except perhaps as a distraction. 

If a distraction was all she wanted, surely they could find her something else.

“They did rule Feanaro had to agree to this?” he checked.

“Oh, yes,” she said instantly. “That was the precedent, and I would have argued for it even if they hadn’t.”

Fingolfin had not seen Feanaro in the Halls. He had not seen Feanaro since before the first rising of the sun. However: “And you think he will follow his mother’s precedent and agree?” he said doubtfully.

Feanaro had not wearied of life. He had only been barred from it. 

He supposed Feanaro could have changed. Hoped for it a little, even. Just not . . . not that much, surely.

“Surely you have learned by now not to ask me to predict my husband,” she said dryly. “But I have done what I could, regardless; I asked them to carry my request to him just as I said it, and I have hope that they will. Even if they don’t, it may yet work,” she added hopefully.

It was not that he doubted her persuasiveness. Only . . . “What were your exact words?” he asked, very firm in his not doubting.

“That I ask only for the same courtesy that I promised him when I was carrying the Ambarussa,” she said promptly. “You remember how sick I was.”

He remembered hearing of it. He had not seen for himself; by the time it was evident just how hard the pregnancy would be for her, she had not been able to handle any possible additional stress, and he had not wanted to risk inciting an argument with Feanaro, and in those days, walking into the same room had been an incitement to an argument between them.

He had not previously imagined that she had been so wounded in spirit as to promise Feanaro that she would let him take another wife if she passed and could not gather the strength to return - or so visibly wounded that Feanaro’s indignance at the implication he would want to had not erupted onto all Tirion.

There were a lot of things he had not once imagined.

“Alright,” he said, defeated. There was nothing more he could do after all; nothing more but wait, as he once had as a boy outside Feanaro’s door, desperate to hear what he would say. “Alright.”

She looked rather concerned at his tone, but she didn’t try to stop him when he announced his intention to fetch his horse and ride away.

(“She asked them to tell him what?” Arafinwe asked incredulously when Fingolfin met him on the road.)

(Fingolfin repeated the message.)

(“The same courtesy - there’s going to be a riot.” Arafinwe swung his horse back toward Tirion.)

(Probably, but - )

(“She told me the story while you were gone,” Arafinwe said in furious impatience. “She was half delirious from the pain when she was carrying them. She promised him that she would come back as soon as she could. She promised him she would do whatever it took. She promised him she would <em>beat down the walls.</em>”)

(Realization finally struck.)

(“She’s not asking him to let her remarry. She’s asking him to break out.”)

(Ah.)

(That did put a different spin on it.)

[The title of this story comes from "No Longer You," a song from Epic: The Musical. It is also a hint as to how this story is going to end because that song involves Odysseus being told a seer has seen a vision of his wife standing beside a man with a trail of bodies behind him . . . and Odysseus angrily demanding to know who it is, not realizing the man is himself.]

[Which is not quite what happened here, but there are a few parallels.]

[This is, by the way, a Memento Pugna AU of all things; Nerdanel tells Finarfin her pregnancy story in the prequel to that, and Maglor's deal here is the same as it was there.]

[In this AU, though, Nerdanel got pushed past the edge and decided it was time to do something about it.]

[Possibly Fingolfin's return had something to do with that actually, since that hasn't happed in the main version of Memento.]

[cupidscorpsee]

Just Say It

WC - 5,880 / 22 minute read

Warnings - Smut / 18+ content throughout / light degradation / very brief mention of blood (rough kissing) / age gap / feminine terms used for reader

A/N: ummm

In which you, Hugh’s year-long assistant, finally tell you him how you feel and it leads to unexpected events…

You had been his assistant for almost a year now, having done this since you were fresh out of college. You felt you were pretty close now with Hugh or, at least, as close as you can possibly get with such a busy man.

The assistant-actor relationship you had expected in the very beginning dissipated almost as quickly as you were hired. No, things felt very much like a casual friendship with him and you enjoyed that fact very much.

It was difficult, however, to ignore the difference in power dynamics you two shared. You felt so small compared to him, like you only mattered on a superficial level at most. You often wondered if you meant any more than just the “young woman who brought Mr. Jackman coffee every morning on the set of Deadpool & Wolverine”. You hoped you did.

As you walk around town one evening, making casual stops here and there—Hugh even buying a box of cigars at some point, which he rarely ever does—you notice how he was taking his time. He wasn’t in his usual rush—no speed-walking with his unrelenting athletic zeal.

Nor did he seem in a rush to go back home and read over his new script like he intended, or call his two kids to set up another father-daughter and father-son date (you believed he was such a phenomenal father and that warmed your heart every time you thought about it), or, as was usually the case, beg you to get him a coffee from his favorite barely-known Aussie cafe, which was only three minutes from where you two stood.

Perhaps he has nothing better to do but be with me right now, you thought.

Hugh lights up a cigar, then, to your surprise, offers one to you as well. You had been twenty-one for only [insert number] months now and you wondered if that was why he had finally offered you one when he had never done so before.

You accept it. You clumsily fumble with your cigar, not used to the strange size of it as compared to normal cigarettes. You weren’t much of a smoker, really. You attempted to light your cigar, but your red lighter refused to cooperate. The wind, it seemed, was stronger than your ability to fight your embarrassed blush.

"Here, let me help," Hugh said softly, his warm breath brushing against your cheek as he reached across the table you two were sitting at. His hands cupped gently around yours, and the proximity sent a jolt through your already frazzled nerves.

Your heart raced as Hugh’s fingers brushed against yours, igniting a heat that spread through your veins. You try to focus on the task at hand, but the closeness between you two made it nearly impossible to think straight.

Here was the truth: Hugh fucking Jackman was damn fine for his age and you’d be an utter fool to not recognize that.

With practiced ease, Hugh flicked the lighter and held the flame just inches from your face. You could feel the heat against your skin, and for a moment, you forget how to breathe. As the flame danced before you, casting flickering shadows across Hugh’s kind features, you couldn't tear your gaze away.

Burn me, your brain whispered like a naughty secret better left unsaid. Burn me, burn me, burn me.

You would let him if he truly desired it.

"Thanks," you managed to murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

But Hugh only smiled, his eyes holding a warmth that sent your pulse into overdrive. “‘Course, mate.”

Your moment lingered, the air thick with a tension that seemed to only be on your part, before Hugh pulled away, his hand retreating back to his side of the table. But the memory of his touch lingered, seared into your mind like an indelible mark.

“Not bad, right?”

What? Oh. The cigar. You forgot to pay attention. “Not bad at all.”

“If I remember correctly, your application all those months ago said you didn’t smoke,” Hugh commented, a knowing smile on his face.

Feeling bold, you stand from your spot at the table, lean forward, and blow smoke towards Hugh. “I don’t.”

He grins.

After a bit, you two walk towards the rental house Hugh is staying in during the filming of his next film. You pause for a moment and then pull the slightly-bent script from your bag. Hugh only watches you, puzzled.

“I picked up your new script, by the way,” you say with a practiced calmness that doesn’t really match the stressfulness of the situation. “They just tweaked a few things, y’know?”

“You’re bloody joking,” he groans. “Changes already?”

You look at him, hesitate, then blurt out, “I can help you go over it, if you want. I want. Well, I– Yeah, I can help…”

He looks back at you steadily. “Okay. I would like that.”

You were growing frustrated, though unsure of the reasoning. It was as if some sort of organ in your stomach was clawing up to your throat and begging to be let out. Keeping it in was as exasperating as it was confusing. “I want that.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve said that already. Are you alright, mate?”

You look him straight in the eye for once, surprised by your sudden courage to do so. You take another drag of your cigar, hesitating. “I think you know I’m not.”

There’s a silence, though not one of confusion or wondering.

“What do you mean?” Hugh finally asks.

“It’s not that hard to guess. No offense…”

What were you doing? What were you doing? What were you doing?

“Y/N,” Hugh starts slowly, obviously playing for time as he considers the weight of what you were subtly admitting.

“Fuck, I could lose my job for this,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair as you put your cigar out on the stair railing beside you. You two stood just outside Hugh’s temporary living space, Hugh leaning back against the railing of the stairs leading up to his front door, and you, in your nervous shuffling, at the other end of the railings near the potted flowers. “I’m sorry, I… It’s been a long day. Just forget I said any–”

“Just bloody say it, mate.”

You paused. It almost sounded like he was upset or annoyed, but from the slight, curious tone in his voice that you had come to understand as genuine interest, you knew he wasn’t, so you kept going. “I wanted you to know. Just in case I had a shot at… whatever. Anything. I just wanted you to be aware of… Yeah. I don’t know. I just… I just want you.”

It was sloppy. Really sloppy. But it was out now.

The silence between you was deafening and you could barely stand it. You thought you might implode if you didn’t tell Hugh how you felt, but, right now, you felt like you may still implode anyway.

His eyebrows furrow, his jaw clenches, and his mouth twitches as he considers his response. “This is wrong, kid.”

But I want you. I need you in my body and my soul. It hurts every second I spend looking at you and wanting more than what I have, you think. I can’t take another year of this. Not a month. Not even a week. A day would kill me.

Your thoughts were like a funeral pyre of which he had set the flame to.

“Is it?”

From the silence that follows, you know you won’t be getting a response. He simply nods once, as if finalizing the moment, and moves to unlock his front door.

He holds it open and gestures for you to head inside first. You do so and, being already familiar with this house (you had picked it for him when he had asked you to do so before filming started a week ago), you go to the living room and sit down on the dark blue couch, leaning back against the uncomfortably stiff pillow.

Hugh stops at his fridge first and goes to the couches with two bottles of beer in one hand, script in the other. He sets the bottles down on the coffee table between you two and sits down.

“I don’t want to lose this, Hugh…”

“What? Your job, you mean?”

“That, too.”

You don’t speak any further on that. Instead, you reach out for the bottle of cold beer and hold it in your lap. You stare down at the cap for a few seconds before realizing: “Do you have a bottle opener?”

Hugh takes his keys out from his pocket and you notice the small bottle opener keychain attached to his set. It was a gift from you during the holiday season a few months back.

He stands up with a soft grunt and leans over the seemingly plastic coffee table to move up closer to you. Very close. He stares right in your face, as though he likes it and wants to study it, linger on it. He reaches out slowly, hesitantly, and touches your lower lip with his finger, letting it travel left and right, then right and left again.

Hugh finally, for the first time since your hasty confession, smiles slightly at you, and that very smile fills you with a kind of apprehension about what will happen next. Or, at least, what you hope will happen next.

He slowly takes the cold bottle of beer from you, setting it, along with the other, on the hardwood floor beside the couch.

He looks at you for a moment, as if deciding something, before he places his hand at the end of the small, plastic table that served as the only barrier between you two, and gives it a harsh push. It makes a sharp scraping sound as it slides over, leaving the space between you two open.

Please do it, Hugh. Please, please, please.

Hugh nods slowly, as if reading your thoughts, and lowers himself in front of you, his waist between your legs now as he gently moves you lower by his hand on your chin. He brings his lips up to your mouth in a warm I’ll-meet-you-halfway-but-no-further kiss.

A conciliatory kiss.

A pity kiss?

You smile, nearly exploding in giddiness before returning the kiss—so famished you lose yourself in it. It's a gentle collision, a meeting of softness and warmth that sends shivers down your spine.

As you finally break apart, your breaths mingling in the air, you open your eyes to meet Hugh’s gaze. There's a newfound understanding between you two, a silent agreement: This stays between us at all times.

“Is that what you wanted?” Hugh murmurs afterward, lips still grazing against yours.

This is where it would logically end.

You don’t answer. You kiss him again, lifting his face, as if to discover more, know more. Even with your faces touching, your bodies are angles apart, it seems.

He lifts himself off his knees and stands in front of you, body angled downwards so he could keep his hands on your face. It was almost desperate, your kiss. Not because his kiss still lacked the satisfaction you were looking for, but because you weren’t so sure you’d get another opportunity.

You had your lips against his, practically pulling the man as close to you as possible now, and yet you still seeked more. Kiss me, love me, need me.

You wanted to consume the man one kiss at a time. It didn’t take long for him to get the picture and easily part his lips for you. Your tongue explored his own and you didn’t seem to mind when, in your excitement, your teeth knocked against his. In fact, you wanted more of exactly that.

You stopped wanting to be the gentle, secretive assistant you had somehow molded into around him. You stopped wanting passion at this moment. You did not even care for pleasure—his or your own. You didn’t even want proof that this job risk you were taking was worth it, for you already knew it was.

You didn't want words. Just the turning ceiling fan as it was, the stiff couch beneath your clothed thighs, the soft scent of Hugh’s cologne, and your spot between his open legs. You wanted all of it. Every inch of his kind soul’s beautiful vessel.

Against his lips, you murmur between breaths, “I’ll quit after this. If you want me to.”

He pulls back, though his heart isn’t in it. He feels wrong in a moral sense, yet he can’t seem to fully stop this. He starts to move his body away from yours. “You can stay here tonight, Y/N… It’s late and your apartment is bloody far.”

“I can take the couch.” It was the most sobering thing you could possibly say in the moment.

————————————————————————

Okay, so you were an idiot.

You laid on the couch beneath the blanket he had given you (he had profusely offered you the bed instead of the couch several times, saying he’d take the couch, but you declined), shifting your position multiple times—feeling restless—to combat the discomfort between your legs.

You had been having a dream a few minutes ago and you were glad you woke up from it. It was silly of you to be having such morally wrong dreams about your famous boss, so you decided to suffer and not go back to sleep.

Instead, you got up from your spot and took a warm shower. He had told you that you could do so if you wanted to at any point. Even with your stupidity, he was still as kind and considerate as ever.

He had headed to bed in his room hours ago, his door shut.

When you finish your quick shower, you step out with a blue towel wrapped around your damp body. It doesn’t take long for you to come to a horrifying conclusion: you had no clothes to wear now.

You sat at the edge of the tub and stared ahead at the mirror on the wall. Your hair was still damp and it clung to your face not unlike the way your shame did to your soul. You let out a frustrated groan of defeat and pushed yourself off the tub.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

You knocked on Hugh’s bedroom door, hoping to God he was still awake and you were not being a bother.

A slight shuffling sound was heard from the other side of the door before it was opened to reveal the man in a pair of dark-blue plaid pajama pants and no shirt in sight. His hair was a bit disheveled, but he still looked as handsome as ever. Your grip on your towel around your body tightened. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

“No, mate,” he lied, his barely-noticeable groggy tone giving himself away. “You alright?”

You nod. “Clothes. Um. I don’t have any.”

His eyes lit up in recognition and he quickly moved to his closet. “Ah, damn, of course. Come in.”

You followed him back into his room, your eyes darting over its contents. Each breath you took seemed to echo in the dimly lit room, filling your lungs with the intoxicating scent of distant cologne mingled with the subtle aroma of his laundry detergent.

Your eyes swept over the space, drinking in every detail with a mixture of longing and adoration. The room itself seemed to pulsate with Hugh’s essence, from the unmade bed adorned with plush pillows to the scattered array of books strewn across his desk. You couldn't help but marvel at how each item seemed to reflect a different facet of his personality, further deepening your infatuation that almost bordered now on obsession.

He rummages through his closet for something—anything—that might fit you, though you knew that anything he could find would always be a few sizes too big with a man of his stature.

He takes a step back from the closet and huffs in defeat, unable to find a thing. “I have no idea, mate, unless you’d like to wear a belt to bed.”

You look at him and he looks back at you, and then there it is. There it is. That unspoken moment of mutual clarity.

There was a hesitancy that clung to the air. He understood your look and you understood his. All that was needed now was action, but could that happen?

He steps closer to you and slowly brings his hands to your hips. You wished the damn fabric of the towel wasn’t in your way. He begins to lightly stroke up and down your bare arm now. “You sure you want this, kid?”

Kid. Call me anything else. I am anything but.

“Y/N…?” he corrects when you don’t respond immediately, as if reading your less-than-content thoughts. You like having someone read your mind so effortlessly.

You nod. Yes, you’re sure. Never been more sure of anything in your twenty-one years of living.

Hugh lifts your face with his hand and stares at you the way he did in the living room when you first kissed, though even more intensely now. More sure of himself. Of his actions. “I’m going to kiss you now and you are not going to ask me about losing your job.”

You feel as if your fingers are suddenly burning with desire—like a sled dog deprived of work. Of purpose. “I will not ask you about losing my job.”

Then, he suddenly pulls back, as if he might change his mind about allowing this to unfold with his thirty-plus years younger assistant, but doesn’t and instead runs his fingers through your damp hair, messing it up with ease.

You bring your mouth to his in a fiercely eager kiss. If he wouldn’t do it first, you would. Something seems to clear away between you two, and you both abandon your hesitance to the kiss.

You hungrily kiss his closed eyes, his nose, his ears, his throat, discovering them with your lips. You didn’t realize how badly you wanted to explore every part of him with your mouth alone.

Hugh kisses you back just as eagerly, even roughly, nearly disregarding your need for oxygen. His grip on your arm was so tight, you wouldn’t be surprised if you had bruises the following day.

You, submitting yourself to him without being asked to, back up towards the bed. He steps forward and gently brings you down onto the mattress, climbing atop you and beginning to almost hastily remove your towel.

You are soon naked and lie back in a kind of ecstasy as Hugh moves his hands over your body. No secrets this time. No holdbacks. Hugh kisses you, kisses your body all over, then returns to kiss your open lips again more deeply, as if he too is finally letting go. Not a part of him isn’t touching you now.

You were squirming, as if unsure and desperate at once.

“I don’t bite,” he mumbles against your skin.

The man looked incredible. There was no way he was real, considering he looked like some guy out of a celebrity photo shoot. Not even “looked like”—he was that guy.

Loose pajama pants low on his hips, a soft trail of hair leading beneath it—and you knew what laid under them. His arm was beside your head and muscles bulged a little, hair messily swept back on his head, a bit damp. He wasted no time at all kissing your neck so much that blood vessels seemed to break.

He frowned when he had stopped kissing you and noticed your weary expression. “Am I making you uncomfortable, mate? We really don’t have to do this. I like the idea but I’d never want to push you. If I got the wrong impression…”

“No, no,” you blurted back quickly, desperately. Your face flushed. “I’m just… How do I do this? I want you—need you—so much I might implode if I don’t get every inch of you soon, but… is that too much? Should this not mean so much to me?”

He could see you were slightly stiff and it made his stomach clench in unease. This was already risky enough as it was.

He shook his head and leaned down to place a soft kiss against your jaw. “I like a little neediness, Y/N. And… if I’m already saying ‘fuck it’, then I’m taking that mindset all the way. I’ve been wanting to know what you taste like ever since you opened that bloody mouth of yours.”

A sudden shift in position left Hugh a little closer, his groin beneath the pants hitting your bare sex. Your breath shuddered. He noticed, but did not comment on it. “You’ve wanted this for a damn long time, haven’t you?”

“Yes.” It was an easy answer for an easy question.

“Well, you’ve got it.”

Your bare heat was growing a bit achy with need. Grow up, grow up, grow up. You hated how you were thinking and feeling like a teenager filled with hormones, but you wanted more than ever to climb on top of him and beg—beg for his hands or mouth or cock to take away all these stupid thoughts that were running rampant in your brain.

Give me something. Anything.

“You’re right.”

His eyebrows furrowed a bit before he understood the tone shift of the conversation. You wanted to get what you intended from him, and he wanted that for you. It was wrong—oh, so wrong—but who was he to deny you of that? Of him?

And fuck it, maybe he wanted this more than he initially let on.

He nodded.

You shifted and your body now sat beside Hugh as he stayed down for you, his body weight resting on his meaty pillar of an arm. You felt warm and tingly in all the right—and wrong—places as you reached for the fabric of his pajama pants.

You pulled the clothing over his cock and your face reddened at the sight of him. You were gentle with it, your warm hand shaking slightly as you wrapped it softly, carefully, around the base of him.

“You have no idea how often I’ve thought about this,” you whispered, giving him a slow stroke. He was warm in your hand and you could feel him twitch, sucking in a sharp breath.

“I could tell,” he whispered with slight grin and a follow-up swallowed groan as you continued to stroke him. “You were obvious with your signs, pretty girl.”

Pretty girl. Pretty girl. Pretty girl? You liked that a lot. Of course, you had been called that before by other exes, but something about hearing it from him in this context made you whine—audibly whine—and it embarrassed the fuck out of you.

“Oh, you like that? My sweet, pretty girl,” the man crooned, stroking your [insert color] hair back—a soft, intimate caress you would have never expected from him barely a week ago.

He watched you pull his cock again, rubbing the pre-cum over his tip with your thumb, making him breathe harder. “Y/N, pretty, I’m gonna need that mouth on me soon, fuck.”

He twitched again, getting desperate, watching your face grow a pretty flushed pink. You leaned forward and glided the tip over your bottom lip, his pre-cum wetting it. Hugh wanted nothing more than to frame the image in his head forever.

“Just tell me what to do. I’ll listen.”

You’ll listen? Where had this sudden version of you come from?

You began to kiss up the length of him. He swallowed another groan, his grip on your hair a little tighter now as his hips involuntarily bucked upwards. “I like seeing you like this, pretty girl. Honest with yourself. Do you think you can swallow whatever shame you might feel tomorrow?”

“I’ll try anything for you, Hugh.” You blinked up at him as you went back to slow strokes. That’s all you wanted. To behave. To be good. To let an emotion take over for once.

“You can’t use a safe word—”

Safe word?

“—with me in your mouth so tap twice on my thigh if you don’t want any more. If you want to stop or take a break. I hope you know I’ll be gentle with you.”

He’d never be angry or upset if you wanted to stop.

You loved the way even his sweeter, more considerate words in a sexual setting turned you on profusely. You smiled and kissed the hairy space just above his cock. “A famous big-time actor being thoughtful of others?”

“How bloody unheard of,” he mumbled back, matching your playful energy.

You looked up at him, seeking a green-light with your eyes. He gently twirled your hair on the left side of your head around his finger, seemingly studying your face, before he reached forward with both hands and pulled your hair back in a make-shift ponytail that he held together with only his right hand.

It was his permission.

You had no need for hesitation, quickly leaning down to take the head of his cock into your warm mouth and, despite yourself, moaning softly in relief. You’d been dreaming about this all year, just as he had—though his desire was maintained a secret much better than yours. You could feel the raging throb of your poor unstimulated clitoris as you took more of him.

“Fuck, that mouth…” he mumbled, wiping with his thumb as some of your own saliva coated the corner of your lips. “Have you really been hiding how much of a desperate slut you are?”

The derogatory words coming from his mouth shocked you, but did not disturb you. You tried your best to confirm his question, a muffled mm-hm leaving your throat.

“Yeah? Are you like this with every cock?”

Your stomach twisted at the thought that perhaps he did this with all the younger women—all his “pretty” assistants.

You let out a small mm-mm sound, denying his previous question. No, Hugh, only for you.

He gave you a low groan as your hand trailed up his thigh while you sucked him off. It was almost like a reward. He waited—almost hoped—for you to tap his thigh, signaling your stop, but you didn't. You didn’t even think of it.

You did, however, pull back, nearly choking but somehow managing to keep it down. You blinked your tears away and pushed yourself forward, wrapping your arms around his torso—bare chest to bare chest.

He hardly had time to return your affectionate gesture before you kissed along his jaw until you reached his mouth. You kissed him fiercely and he didn’t even seem to mind that your mouth had just been wrapped around his leaking cock. He couldn’t care less.

He promised himself not to have feelings for you that went beyond friendship and natural lust, but you were making that impossible.

What made you so fucking irresistible?

You pulled away, breathless. “I want you to fuck my mouth, Hugh. The way no man has.”

Your words were quiet, whispered, but so very filthy. Enticing, really.

He did as you asked.

He really did.

Hugh was gentle at first, scooping your hair up into a makeshift ponytail again. You were kneeling on the bed platform now, giving yourself more ease to suck at the level you were at and him the ability to move you as he pleased.

At first he pulled you down onto his cock, easing you into it—giving some opportunity to retract your wish—but when you proved you could take him, he began to truly fuck your mouth.

He wasn’t brutal. It wasn’t exactly what you expected. You thought he would be careless of your safety and mean, even. You had given him a chance to truly do anything he wanted and he chose… this.

It was so much better than you expected, but fuck, you were wondering now if he meant more to you than you had ever wanted him to.

He was firm with his strokes, but only pushed you to the limit, making you drool around his cock. You liked that he held your head still while you let him thrust into your mouth, pulling out to the tip and thrusting back in.

Even more so, you loved how he talked to you.

“God, look at you. My pretty assistant who could’ve been helping with something else this whole time,” he groaned, eyes dark as he looked down at you. “Taking it so well.”

His gaze was hooded as he pushed you down as far as he knew you were comfortable with, and he let out a low moan that went straight to your own arousal. “Fucking perfect.”

You couldn’t believe how easy it was for him to make your stomach flutter.

“You look so innocent—make quite the show being the perfect, sweet assistant in front of me all year, but you’re a bloody cockslut when you want to be, huh?” He was testing the dirty talk, giving you a glimpse of the degradation you had somehow known he was capable of.

You liked it. You liked him being mean in a specific context.

He could work with that.

His head was clouded in pleasure as he watched you drool down your chin. You were a goddamn dream, and he knew this had been the right decision. Morally wrong? Sure. But the right decision for the two of you and your pining.

He pulled out from your mouth suddenly, feeling himself get too close to finishing. He didn’t waste any time, for he was already five steps ahead.

Eyes looked down at you with intent, hands running over your inner thigh as you waited for what he would do next. You’d pictured that expression of his so many times, bit down on your tongue behind books held up to your face to get this very mental image away.

His hand had moved down to your wetness, giving your clitoris a few firm circles as he positioned himself closer between your already-spread legs. He smiled—that fucking stupid smile you loved—while his thumb rubbed over your bundle of nerves, making you shudder as you bit down on your bottom lip.

“What do you like?” he asked, his thumb’s pattern unwavering. “What makes you feel good, pretty?”

Honestly? You could cum just like this. Him touching you slowly, looking down at you with that beautiful, intimidating face. But you knew he wouldn’t like that answer. You didn’t want to seem so pathetic, either.

“I’m okay with anything you give me, but I…” you swallowed, a shaky exhale leaving your lips, “I just want you, Hugh. Please.”

He looked like he was taking note, nodding at your words. He smiled when you let out the softest accidental moan, as if he were becoming all-too-aware of how easy you were to please. How desperate you really were after all.

Before you could wrap your head around what was to be, his lips were kissing yours so passionately and brutally that you tasted blood from your bottom lip.

It’s as if he had no real care in the world; he just left his hardened cock visible to your eyes as he began to insert a finger into you. You tightened your grip on his free arm, becoming a quick mess of moans and heavy breathing with only the use of one finger.

“Pathetic,” he mutters quietly as he pulls his finger out.

You are sure your face goes beet red. He finally starts to slowly push his cock inside of you, stopping once only his head was inside. You weren’t sure when he had shifted himself in order to do so.

He took a deep breath. He was more wound up than he had thought he was and your walls already squeezing the head of his cock weren’t helping as he did his best to hold himself back instead of just pounding into you. After all, he did promise gentleness.

Inch by inch, his cock dragged against the inside of your walls. You whimpered and moaned, your eyes shutting despite your burning desire to watch his face. He kept his thrusts slow, making sure to drag every inch, every vein up against that sweet spot inside of you. You were starting to get more vocal, your breathing picking up and eyelids closing shut.

He pressed his thumb to your clitoris once again, rubbing it to the same rhythm of his thrusts. Your hips started to move with him, like you were urging him to start moving faster.

So he did.

Your orgasm had you tightening around his cock and he fucked you through it. He leaned forward, almost folding you in half to capture your lips with his. You moaned into the kiss, your legs locking around his hips and your fingers finding their way into his hair. He kept his thrusts shallow now, barely coming out of you before bottoming out again. “Hugh…”

He gave a particularly hard thrust in response, making your eyes shut once again and your back arch as you whimpered. He set a more brutal pace, chasing after his own pleasure now.

Your nails began to dig into the meat of his ass and your legs locked around his hips, bringing him closer to you.

“You’re such a good girl. Such a pretty girl.”

“Yes,” you gasped. You were struggling to string sentences together, your brain overwhelmed from the pleasure. “God, yes, keep going, Hugh, please…”

His kisses had become sloppy and his rhythm erratic. He felt his orgasm quickly approaching.

One.

“God, fuck…”

Two.

“You feel so fucking good…”

Three more pumps of his cock and he was burying himself as deep as he could possibly get, releasing deep inside of you. He lets out a low, guttural moan.

He collapsed against you, catching himself on his forearms so that he wouldn’t crush you. He kissed your neck, making his way up to your jaw, cheek, and, finally, your lips.

You sighed softly, parting your lips to let his tongue slip inside of your mouth. Your legs were still wrapped around him, keeping him inside of you—exactly where you wanted him to stay. Bodies entangled.

“Will you explain the new film to me?” you whispered, your gaze nowhere near his own, but rather focused on the lips of the object of your desire—the same lips you had kissed only moments ago. “In detail.”

He pulls out with a grunt and lies beside you on the mattress.

“You’ve read the script,” he said, his deep voice rumbling in your chest. “You know what it is better than I do.”

You reach for his hand, lean back, and move it to your bare, practically-abused sex. You slowly swipe his finger between your slick folds before moving it away.

You look up at Hugh and move his now-wet finger towards his mouth. Understanding what you wanted in mere seconds, he opens his mouth and allows himself to taste you in an image that had you nearly swooning.

“Tell me anyway, Hugh…”

He wouldn’t have ever truly declined your request no matter how much he feigned logical hesitance.

You listened to him speak while his fingers trailed back down to your sensitive heat underneath blankets and the dead silence of the night of which would soon once again be interrupted by his whispered sweet nothings and your soft gasps.

Neither of you could quite get enough.