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beomie3 · 3 months

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night lounge - cbg

☆ summary: the nights spent at your favorite night lounge are everything you could ever need. until one night, you stumble upon a man that makes you rethink.

☆ wc: roughly 4k

☆ content: slow burn smut, beomgyu is a gentleman in a jazz band, light bondage (he uses his tie to fasten your wrists), light drinking, cursing, unprotected, lots of kissing :p, fluffy ending, he’s dominant in this <3

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your favorite late-night lounge lies hidden in the underground of a ritzy hotel amidst the city; candlelit and cozy, black silk sofas and a bar equipped with all the drinks for a perfect night.

it'd been your nighttime getaway ever since you discovered it accidentally one night. you haven't found a place quite as unique as it.

you just can't get over the smooth jazz band that plays in it's designated corner every saturday night at sundown when you arrive. the blend is perfect to the ear; smooth saxophone, soft drums, pretty piano, and sometimes a bassist who would join in at midnight and play well into 3 a.m. which is usually when you decide you're satisfied with your night and head home. which to be frank, it's hard to decide when to leave when it's your comfort place. it simply couldn't get better.

or so you thought.

you sat at the usual velvet barstool under the star-shaped chandelier, taking in the ambiance of the dreamy lounge as always. the subtle murmur of guests and clinks of glasses filling the room, dim with dainty light fixtures and flicker of candles in small glass jars at every table.

dried flowers, fairy lights, and classical paintings adorned the walls in such a beautiful way that made you feel nostalgic. like a museum in paris had been turned into a swanky hangout.

if you could describe the place in one word it would be; classy. no, elegant. no.. dreamy. there were just so many attributes to describe your favorite place, you couldn't begin to put your finger on one.

the peace you felt here while sipping red wine or a cocktail while listening to the smooth blend of instruments from the live ensemble was unmatched to any other place ever, like your own little neverland that you escaped to at nightfall.

the bartender you knew well had just placed a tall glass of chardonnay in front of you, setting tonight's mood as you relax under the liquid's musky yet enjoyable flavor.

cozying into the velvet seat, you shifted your attention back to the band, also paying mind to the people subtly beginning to fill the lounge as the night commenced; observing different groups of friends or couples who entered in intricate outfits, most faces familiar to you. admittedly, people watching was a pastime you fairly enjoyed.

but suddenly there appeared the face of a man you had yet to see, noticing his tall figure immediately as he came down the steps with a certain presence that radiated nothing but confidence and poise.

maybe it was the all-black suit he wore or the way his feathered ebony hair parted over his eyes in such a way that made you stare, following his every step into the warm glow of the lounge.

you wondered if he'd come here all along, or if he was simply a figment of your imagination after only two sips of your glass.

he's here for the same reason as you, it seems, as he briskly makes his way over to the bar.

noticing his approach you try your best to disregard him, acting as if you hadn't just watched his entire procession into the lounge.

"anyone sitting here, miss?" a sudden deep and breathy voice calls out from beside you, a dull pang at your stomach when you turn towards the man and realize how much more handsome he is up close. the way the dim light encapsulates his face, noticing the subtle gloss over his skin.

"you." you keep your wits about you, noticing the way the corner of his lip tugs upward when he nods toward you. swiftly taking the seat.

you turn and face the jazz ensemble again, tongue in cheek as you can feel his warmth beside you, trying your best to seem unfazed by his presence.

although your eyes are on the band, your ears are keen to his thick voice as he orders; a gin martini on the rocks and a side of lime, please. oh and put the jazz band on my tab while you're at it.

you nearly whip your head around at the sound of his request to put the jazz band on his tab. regardless, there were only four members but still...you were in shock and mostly intrigued. it isn't an act of kindness you'd usually hear at the bar.

the waiter gets to work on his drink and your eyes drift to him like a magnet drawn to metal; his mystery, you just wanted to freeze time and observe him.

once your eyes were on him you just couldn't resist the question that lingered on the tip of your tongue.

"do you know the jazz band?" you circle the rim of your glass with a finger, his chocolate eyes immediately boarding into yours along with all of his attention.

"i do. or else there wouldn't be one," his smile slowly grows as yours does, sipping his drink as it arrives. keeping his eyes on you all the while. he's only spoken two sentences to you but you swear there is something about his aura you just can't get enough of.

although he kept his response short and sweet, you put two and two together and concluded that he founded the band or something of the sort. either way, you just couldn't take your eyes off of him.

"well then today is my lucky day," you bring your glass to your lips and he lets out a deep chuckle, setting his glass down with a smirk at you. eyes still glued to his while he briefly looks away to set his glass down, you try taking him all in; the tiny freckle on his cheek, the silver ring in his earlobe, his long eyelashes. he was almost unreal.

"choi beomgyu," he holds a hand out to you, impressed with how much of a gentleman he's been in not even the five minutes you'd spoken to him. sad how low your expectations were after how many royal douchebags you'd come across at this bar.

you state your name in response, taking his warm hand and resisting the urge to smile too big when he slightly bows his head toward you, eyes never leaving yours as he gently shakes your hand.

that wasn't until he brought the back of your hand to his lips like a prince to a princess, that your heart nearly beat out of your chest; simply carried away by his charm. you’d never been greeted this way.

"i take it you enjoy my band," he slowly releases your hand. "rare to see someone just sit. listen. enjoy the music." he slightly reclines, bringing his glass back to his plump lips with those deep brown eyes on you.

"saturday nights are always my favorite." you nod, slightly reclining in your seat too, mimicking his body language.

"i know." his smile slightly grows behind the rim of his glass, wondering how the hell he knows if you'd never met him in your life.

"and how is it that you know that?" you slightly tilt your head, crossing your legs toward him and narrowing your eyes in await for a response.

"velvet chair at the end of the bar under the star-shaped chandelier. it's your seat. how could i not know where the most beautiful woman in this place sits?"

you're good at not showing how flustered you are; legs tightly crossed together, cheek caught in between your teeth, biting back the biggest damn smile.

"saturday nights are my favorite too," he looks over at the band and it isn't until he makes a bass-playing gesture with his fingers that the puzzle pieces click.

he's the bassist that comes on the stage when the lights go dark at midnight with only candles and fairy lights left to illuminate the room as people slow dance. you thought his silhouette might have looked familiar when he came down the stairs, considering that was all you ever knew of him.

he chuckles at your reaction to it finally clicking within you, truly appreciating your deep love for his performances, as no one usually cares much.

you and choi beomgyu continued chatting the night away, and he can see deep in your eyes that you're passionate about what you talk about. he loved finding out that the girl he always keeps his eye on when he's on stage secretly always admired him and his work.

when the bartender comes around with refills, beomgyu only orders water, finding it rather refreshing that a man can control himself and find satisfaction in only one drink as you usually do.

at midnight when the lights dim, beomgyu leads you hand in hand to the front row of the stage, getting to watch his performance front and center. he loves seeing you so close, usually having to deal with watching you from afar when you sat at the bar.

he performs dried flower, your favorite song preformed by the band. you watch his fingers caress the strings, long and dainty, pretty fingers. clad in expensive rings. wrist dangling with dainty charm bracelets. he has a certain class that is hard to find in men, and you feel yourself falling for him every passing second.

hes so passionate when he plays; eyebrows slightly furrowed as he instinctively plucks every note just perfectly. you’re also keen to every woman staring at him when his solo comes, whispering and giggling amongst one another. you grin.

after, he steps down and joins you in the crowd, asking for your hand and the two of you slow dance to the soft jazz, your head in his chest as he carefully steps with you. he smells of soft cashmere, and that’s the last thing you take note of before you’ve fallen completely head over heels.

the lights dim a bit more, his face barely lit by the candles but you can still see the sparkle in his eyes. his gaze is soft, yet intense and your heart stops as his face inches closer.

before you know it, your lips are touching what feels like velvet pillows; his lips. your heart races, blood rushing to your face and he pulls you closer, feeling his chest press against yours.

his sweet kiss lingers on your lips. you must have a sweet tooth, because you’re craving more.

“how about we get out of here?” his eyes are so intense on yours, realizing your fingers had interlaced into his long ago as you slow danced.

your eyes say it all; both of your body language says it all. you can practically feel your body heat radiating through your silk dress. cheeks flushed as he guides you through the crowd and out into the cool night air.

the taxi ride to his place is tense as you sit hip to hip, his fingers tracing your palm and you can’t seem to take your eyes off of one another. the taxi driver is the only thing keeping him from saying some not so appropriate things out loud, so instead he whispers them in your ear and you’re a giggling mess.

his high rise apartment is classy like him; low lighting and wooden accents, a baby grand piano in the corner under a chandelier, record player and a vinyl collection. an array of basses and guitars adorning the living room. it reminds you of the lounge, in fact; classical paintings and candles and dried flowers on the dining room table.

the tension only builds and builds, until it snaps.

he does so much as put a record on and offer you a glass of wine before your lips are on each other’s again. messy makeout, fingers intertwined in hair. his fingers precisely unbuttoning his suit before sliding under your silk dress.

the two of you stumble toward his king bed and you help him loosen his tie but he ushers your hand away, swiftly removing it from himself.

you fall backwards on his bed, feeling the silk sheets fluff up around you, cold against your boiling skin. he stands between your legs, pulling you toward the edge of the bed toward him with hands hooked underneath your thighs.

“hands above your head,” his voice is husky, eyes dark as he towers over you. dark brown hair messy and fluffed over his forehead.

his demand makes you twice as soaked and you swear a puddle has formed between your legs. you do as he says, feeling the cold air waft against the sensitive skin of your under arms and you’re pelted with goosebumps.

“good girl,” his voice is low, eyes dark. his cock twitches in his pants as you had done what he said, leaning down to hold your hands in place. your eyes widen when he uses his black tie to begin tying your hands together above your head.

“is this okay?” he focuses intensely into your eyes as he makes several concise knots, his voice tender and genuine as you bite your lip. it’s more than okay.

“mhmm,” you moan into his lips as he kisses you, pressing his hips against your clothed heat, legs spread, wrapping around his torso.

you didn’t know what to expect from this choi beomgyu guy, but you could tell he was amazing in bed since the moment you met. he’s had you on edge, turned on since the moment he spoke. he really knows how to turn you the fuck on.

you’re completely out of control now, your wrists fastened tightly together by his tie but you love the feeling more than you ever expected.

he starts slow but increasingly gets more feral. starting by kissing your neck softly, he slips your silk dress off and blood rushes straight to his dick.

you’re wearing a lace bra, extremely see through so that he can see that your nipples are hard and poking out him. but what makes him nearly salivate; you’re not wearing any underwear.

well, you were wearing underwear earlier tonight at first arriving to the lounge, but you’d taken them off somewhere along the night.

“check your pocket,” you eyed the front pocket of his suit jacket and when he stuck his hand in it to discover a pair of lacy underwear, his tongue darts to wet his lips. he fought the urge to absolutely fuck the shit out of you right here right now.

“such a sneaky girl, hm?” he cocks his head to the side, the hint of a sly grin on his lips as he slides his suit jacket off, leaving him only his white button up shirt, yet it’s unbuttoned so that you can see his bare chest and torso peeking through. he pushes the sleeves up and runs his fingers through his feathered hair to expose his forehead briefly. he’s so unbelievably sexy.

his hands are a bit rougher on you now, gripping the fat of your hips as he tongue kisses you, so messy and wet and hot. trailing his lips all over your chest, he bites your nipples softly through the lace and it feels so fucking good. he makes a mess of his spit, kissing your body until his reaches your bare pussy, already drenched for him.

“already so fucking wet and i haven’t even done anything,” he groans at the sight of your wetness dribbling out and onto his sheets. he really can’t believe his eyes at how soaked you are, can’t stop thinking of how good you’re going to feel when he fucks you.

his lips are level with your lower ones and he stares up at you through fluffed bangs over his thick brows. you anticipate what his tongue will feel like inside of you, shuddering when his hot breath wafts against you. you’re so sensitive.

he supports your thighs with his hands, setting each of your feet to rest on the tops of his shoulders. you’re spread wide open for him so that he has the best view of your entirety.

he hasn’t even fucking done anything and you moan out, a deep chuckle rumbling in his throat. just the air exuded from his nose when he breathes brushes against your clit and stimulates it.

his tongue finally traces over your bud and you whip your head back onto his memory foam mattress. you can’t do this; no, there’s far too much pleasure. you’d never been this sensitive with anyone in your life. you'd never been this turned on by anything.

when his lips attach to your clit and suck, your hands shoot into his soft hair, grabbing handfuls of it as you whimper loudly; slurping sounds and moans echoing throughout his bedroom. your sounds egg him on; cock twitching violently in his pants with every single one of your sweet sounds.

when he inserts two long fingers into you and curls them up to your g-spot, it’s over for you. it only takes about four strokes of his fingers until you’re spasming, fluttering intensely around his fingers and grinding yourself into his face. his moans vibrate against you. no one had ever made you finish this fast.

“god beomgyu you’re- so fucking good-,” you huff out of breath between words, heavy head thrown back, chest heaving. his ego is stroked yet again.

the recovery from your orgasm is fast as he is quick to kiss you, need prevalent in his veins as you feel fire in him with the way his lips devour yours.

you clench around nothing, squeezing his arms tightly as nervous shudders course through your veins. you need him.

“choi beomgyu,” you whisper against his lips and his hungry eyes board into yours, lips puffy and glossy; he’s looks way too hot right now. you lean up to whisper in his ear.

“fuck me,” your voice is quiet, desperate. hot breath seeping down his neck. he is done for. he's kept his composure this long. but there is always a point where he absolutely loses it.

he can’t wait any longer, swiftly unbuckling his belt and dropping his perfectly ironed black trousers down to his knees along with his boxers.

when his cock springs out, it slaps up against his abdomen with a heavy thud and your eyes widen. he’s got a big fucking dick. your throat bobs as you swallow down a bundle of nerves.

“holy shit,” you say under your breath but he hears you; dark smirk spreading across his lips. he looks down at himself, spreading the ooze of precum around his tip; a darkened pink shade with all of the blood flowing up to it.

since the moment you saw him walk through the door at the lounge tonight, you’ve wanted to fuck him. but the moment he saw you for the first time; oh he’s been wanting to fuck you for months.

"what was that darling?" he leans down to look into your eyes, tender touch against your cheek as he snakes a hand around your thigh and pulls it up so that your knee is up against your chest.

"hm?" his lips are inches away from yours, eyes dark and flicking down to your lips and back up into your eyes repeatedly. he throws your leg over his shoulder.

your heart strums against your ribs as you're anxious to take him, yet you can't wait.

"you can take me, right gorgeous?" he tilts his head and you can't process how beautiful he looks right now; soft, chandelier lights of his bedroom reflect from his big, brown doe-shaped eyes. your mauve lipstick smeared across his lips and chin. hair tousled back, revealing his perfect eyebrows and forehead. the sheen of sweat glimmering from his skin.

"i can take you," a small grin is on your lips as you fiddle with the end of his tie around your wrists, realizing that having your hands tied above your head has made you way more sensitive than normal.

looking down at the space in between the two of you, he rubs the tip of his cock up and down your folds, causing you to shudder. he places small kisses to your knee, as it's resting by his cheek.

you suck air through your teeth when you feel a slight stretch as he guides himself into you, going slow enough to get you adjusted to his tip. you keep your eyes locked as he slides the rest in little by little, moans growing louder as the stretch intensifies. looking down, you realize he's only half-way in and you look up at him, lip caught between his teeth.

the stretch is so intense, but not as intense as his eyes on yours, searching deep into your soul. his hands come up to fiddle with the knot of his tie around your hands, suddenly feeling it loosen and your hands are free. immediately, they fly into his hair, thumbs soft over the sides of his face. he untied them for this exact reason; to feel your intoxicating touch all over him.

suddenly, you feel his hips meet the back of your thigh, and that's when you know he's all the way in. your mouth is agape as he slowly begins moving in an out of you, crashing your lips back to his as the skin of his thighs begins to slap against yours.

his hands are busy on you; one palming your tits as the other hooked under your thigh to keep your leg situated atop his shoulder.

taking him raw feels so wrong but so right; the edge of his tip feels fantastic against your g-spot, thick veins massaging you just right. your arousal leaves a milky white ring around the base of his cock as he slams into you. he collects some, bringing it to your mouth, followed by crashing his lips to yours again so that you can both taste it together.

“you feel so fucking amazing,” he breaks the kiss to speak to you, followed by a moan as he slams as deep as he can into you. you’ve ajusted well at the is point that the pain has turned into pleasure. his soft whimpers in your ear were enough to make you even wetter, easing the process of being stretched out.

he shuts his eyes as you’re sucking him i’m so perfectly, so turned on by the squelch of your pussy every time he enters you. he fights back the urge to cum, but it’s so hard with how beautiful you look right now.

your face is contorted in pleasure, hair sprawled out all over his bed, shimmery sheen on your skin from a mixture of sweat, tits bouncing with every slam of his hips.

“god you’re taking it so well,” he groans against your neck, lifting your other thigh so that both of your legs are swung over his shoulders. he’s impressed by your flexibility as his chest is pressed against yours, realizing just how far he is leaned down against you.

his hips are rhythmic against yours, grinding himself into you, a good tactic to stimulate your clit with this pelvis. it’s like he’s a professional.

his name along with a mixture of curses leave your lips in drawn out moans as your nails dig into his back, the sound of his name nearly drives him insane and he fucks you harder.

you feel the familiar ache in your core with every thrust, and he already knows you’re close because of how much tighter you’ve become around him.

he’s a moaning mess, deep voice like honey in your ear as you suck him in even tighter now. he reaches down to thumb at your clit and you’re right there, right on the edge.

“harder beomgyu, fuck me harder!” you bite down on his shoulder, his hips slamming at a pace so fast that his bed is creaking so loud. your moans probably audible from outside his apartment at this point.

“you gonna cum for me? yeah? cum all over my cock sweetheart c’mon,” his voice is loud yet deep and husky. his eyebrows are furrowed together in pleasure, sweat dripping from his neck and onto your chest.

the slapping of skin is so loud now, and he gives you three precise thrusts before you completely combust.

your sporadic moans are not what tells him you’ve just finished, it’s the absolutely insane convulsions that he feels inside you, fluttering around him at what feels like 200 miles per hour.

it’s enough to push him right over the edge in an ínstense orgasm. he pulls out immediately, busting all over your tummy and angling it to get some on your chest and face. milky white all over you, and there’s a lot too.

he’s so god damn vocal as he cums, his head thrown back so that you can see his addams apple in full glory, bobbing up and down as he moans.

you wipe your chin of his cum and lick your fingers clean, addicted to his salty-sweet taste.

he looks so exhausted as his chest heaves, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. but he doesn’t lay down on the bed just yet; instead he walks to his bathroom, getting a towel to clean you up first like the gentleman he is.

he wipes his fluids off of you with a warm wash rag, tender eyes on your skin as he softly cleanses you. there is a soft quietness about the room, not awkward, soothing actually.

he helps you under his silk sheets once you’re all cleaned up and he snuggles under with you, propping his head up on his hand as he rubs small circles on your shoulder.

“i look forward to seeing you at every show,” his voice is soft, a tender smile on his lips. you love how calm he is, how respectful, how tranquil. almost like he’s healing something deep within you.

“always,” you smile in return. you talked about anything and everything, in love with the way his eyes were attentive to you, keen to every single thing you had to say.

finding his hand under the sheets, you fiddle with his fingers, imagining all the things the future has in store for the two of you. you just knew this was the start of something special.

you hear the record player in his living room echoing with your favorite song, dried flower.

“can i have this dance?” he squeezes your hand under the sheets, smiling. and although you’re both tired, you each slip on a robe and walk hand in hand to his candle-lit living room.

it feels like you’re meant to do this with him, like you’ve done it together before in a past life.

you thought nights at your favorite lounge were everything you could ever need. but that wasn’t true. because tonight, meeting the love of your life proved you wrong in every single way.

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note: here is a gyu fic!! tysm for continuing to support my works while i've been gone. i'm currently vising japan and i've been here for a few months :) i'm happy to announce i'm working on a tokyo part 3 for those who enjoyed tokyo and the sequel!!! i plan on releasing more fics in the mean time. i hope you enjoyed this one<3

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hoseoksluna · 2 months

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CENTURY | myg

pairing: boyfriend!idol!yoongi x f. reader

genre: smut

word count: 3.6k

summary: when yoongi needs inspiration for the song he's been working on, you're not hesitant to help him.

taglist: join | cp: wattpad, ao3

warnings: idol yoongi working in his studio being all stressed out is a warning on its own, he's also immensely hot and calls himself oppa (god help me i am a weak girl), mentions of a nasty punishment, yoongi is kinda mean, and a little bit horny, clit spanking *heart eyes*, oral sex (f. receiving), praise kink—usage of stickers, raw sex.

note: my god, this was a drag at first but because i feel sm better today, i finally finished this and i feel myself returning to the hoseoksluna that i was before i got sick. :( this was fun to write today omg. yoongi is absolutely delicious in this and i can't wait to start writing smoke 3 after this. my babies, enjoy this smutty one shot. i love you. spam my inbox, i miss you! give me a warm welcome, please. MWAH.

Habitually, singing for him was your escapism. You’d close yourself up in a bubble, withdrawing from the surrounding gray world, and you’d slink away to a realm brimming with vivid colors. In his songs, you could be anyone. A figment of his imagination that had more life in its veins than you ever had the taste of. You’d forget, for hours upon hours, about the anguish of your daily life and mental issues that would trouble you and, taking his hand, he would take you to Neverland, watch over you, then take you home.

This time, however, he didn’t take you to that fantasy land.

He took you somewhere darker.

The energy in his lab was potent with something that tickled you ever so gently when you stepped inside. A dusky room with an even heftier, crepuscular layer of vexation. You could feel it thumping beneath your skin after it grazed you with its fingertips, weaseling its way in, settling, stilling. Your boyfriend didn’t turn around when he heard you shut the door, nor when your tights-clad feet paddled on the floor, as absorbed as he was in his work. No shoes inside the Genius Lab—that was the first rule, one you were disciplined enough from him to remember, even if someone woke you up in the middle of the night.

You paid a great price, once upon a time.

You had walked in with your Nike’s when he called you over, wet and smeared with the snow from the winter’s artwork outside. Despite the fact you rubbed the soles on the mat in the building of his workplace long before you strutted all the way to his studio, there were still little snowflakes that clung to your sneakers. It was your first time there and Yoongi seemed to have forgotten to let you in on the rules. And once he saw the mess you made, he told you off.

Kissed you quite roughly.

Made you promise to never do that again, playfully.

Sank you to your knees and bent you over those melting snowflakes. Spanked you so hard that he engraved the first rule of the Genius Lab into your system.

No shoes inside.

Then, he patted your head.

Gave you a silver star sticker, resembling the snowflake, for being such a good girl that learns well.

You had stuck it on the table right beside his laptop, an etched memory that you recollected every time he’d invite you over.

It’s what he’s mindlessly rubbing with his fingertip as you walk over to him, another winter later, embedding your digits into the ebony night of his hair, the long strands so satiny and sleek. Yoongi gazes up at you from his computer, pale violet flecks adorning the skin beneath his weary, yet ever so trenchant eyes, and you pout at the sight of him. There must be something wrong with the process of his album-making and he’s determined to fix it.

Yoongi takes off his headphones, wraps an arm around your waist. You’re wearing a little black dress for him with a low neckline that uncovers everything private as he leads you to sit down on his lap, greeting you with a raspy hello and a kiss that tells you he needs you more than his own countenance lets on.

You linger in the close proximity, peppering his mouth with tiny kisses that make him visibly relax—his shoulders slump against his chair and he lifts your knees, placing them in the snug crook between his side and his arm, his hand spreading forest fire down your calf, stopping at your ankle, swathing it with those flames.

You cease your kisses, overcome with his body heat, and butterflies zap you in your tummy when he continues to kiss your mouth with those sweet little pecks.

Prolonging the last kiss, he peers down at you with the world’s most affectionate adoration and you blush. You’ve tasted the dulciness of all the seasons with him, and yet it feels as though you’ve just started dating. His love has long made its home within you, but you can still sense its freshness in your bones.

It will never get old.

“I love these, baby,” he husks, his eyes growing more lidded in the heated, cozy atmosphere guarded by the fire of his body, and he drags a hand up and down your leg, spreading his admiration on the nylon of your tights that he speaks of. “You came just at the right time.”

He nuzzles his face in your neck while he paws at your feet and you soften, brushing your fingers through his hair. You think he needs to get out of this place and breathe in some fresh air for his brain to recuperate and be filled with the flimsy, ivory sparks of inspiration.

It’s snowing outside.

It always seems to be when he invites you to his secret spot during the winter months.

“What’s wrong, hm?” you ask, requiring the specifics in order to help him as much as you can. “What is it this time?”

Yoongi grumbles nonsense in your neck, the sound muffled and indecipherable, and you laugh, softly, lifting his head.

“I literally didn’t catch a word you said,” you whine, squishing his cheeks, and Yoongi feignedly sobs, scrunching his eyes shut. You laugh, wiggling his head, encouraging him to tell you what made him darken the energy of his studio so devastatingly.

He inhales a deep breath in and takes his hand to your bum, fondling it. “I miss your pussy.”

You burst out into obscene laughter, wiping a hand down his face. “Be fucking serious.”

Yoongi chuckles, but then breaks into false little sobs all over again. “The melodies aren’t working together, I can’t transform the ideas in my head into this song and I just miss your pussy so bad. I wanna eat it.”

So that’s the source of that dark energy in the lab.

He’s horny.

He wails into your bosom, deepening your laughter that melts into an endearing coo. One that lifts his head and makes a grin blossom on his pale face, a dab of color rushing to the surface.

A pretty lotus flower, opening for you.

You poke a finger into his cheek, your heart constricting at the cute way your nail makes a round dent in that flourishing flesh. “I thought you called me over because you wanted my vocals.”

Yoongi squeezes your bum, sucking in a breath. “I did. I wanted to finish the melodies so I could record your voice, but shit fucking happens. I thought we could write the lyrics together.”

You bite your lip, finding the idea mesmerizing, and your chest clenches, a certain longing for it forming inside. A light flickers in Yoongi’s abysmal eyes at your reaction—and you wish you could fix this situation for him, remove the block and replace it with a creativity of your own.

An idea pops into your mind, abruptly.

You widen your eyes, your smile growing, little by little. Yoongi straightens, his features mirroring yours, and the picture hope paints upon his countenance only drives your idea forward.

“What?”

“Oh my god, Yoongi.” You clasp a hand over your mouth. “What if we write the lyrics first and just hum random melodies, see what fits best?”

He thinks about it, tilting his head. And then destroys the realm that your little idea created.

“I’m sorry, baby, but that never works with me. I know artists that do that, but whenever I tried, I just reached a dead end,” he mutters and you pout, furrowing your brows. He lets you soak in it for a little while before he shakes his head. “I have a better idea.”

Yoongi pushes his laptop to the side and lifts you up into his arms as if you weigh nothing, setting you down in place of it. He moves his chair forward. Spreads your legs. Kisses the inner of your thigh and you fall back, your palms landing on the ivory keys of his keyboard and creating a soft music that raises his brows.

“Do that again.”

You smile and lift your hand, dropping it on the same notes that you did by accident. He looks over to see which ones you played and he kisses the front of your thigh before he reaches over for his notepad and pen, writing it down.

“You’re my little angel, I swear,” he says without taking his eyes off of his writing, then he extends an arm behind you and finishes the melody with a certain ease that causes him to relax even more—and your smile to deepen in your face.

You blush, feeling like that winged creature—assigned to his side to help him.

“I brainstormed some lyrics the other day,” Yoongi mumbles and begins to stare you down with an intention that coils in your gut, your heart quickening its rhythm. “How about you bounce off of it, make up some lyrics while I eat you out? I can play the melody for you that we just made.”

Your mouth parts, your throat drying. Warmth pools in your core, the idea of Yoongi playing on the keyboard while he does something so intimate to you bringing you down to an abyss of madness. He hands you his notepad after he flips to the page with the lyrics he mentioned. Your eyes skim over his neat, black handwriting, the random words that could string together a sentence if there was a little work put in it.

But how are you supposed to focus in those circumstances? It’s not just his dick that makes you braindead—it’s his tongue that does it in the first place.

“What do you say, baby?” he persists, dipping down and scattering kisses along that sensitive part of your thigh, his breath wafting over your core as he switches to the other one, spoiling it with those same wet kisses.

You catch a glance of his shining tongue and that does it for you.

Your heart thumps, violently—and your pussy drools.

“Fuck, Yoongi.”

That does it for him, too.

He goes to rip your tights right in the middle, but you yelp, stopping him.

“No, don’t rip them. They were expensive and they’re my only pair for the winter.”

Yoongi gives you a look, cocks his brow. “Why didn’t you say? I could buy you some.”

You clamp your mouth shut. You don’t like to use his money to buy yourself personal stuff because you have a job of your own and you’re able to take care of yourself, but lately, with prices rising and the rent growing more expensive, there’s little from your paycheck that you could spend on things like these. And you still need to save up for way tougher times.

“I could never ask you to do that, are you kidding?”

Yoongi’s gaze darkens. “Who said you couldn’t?”

You open your mouth to argue with him, but only a yelp comes through when he swiftly tugs the waistband of your tights over your bum and up your legs, lifting them in the process and folding you in half.

You’re sure he’s ripped them.

You’re fucked.

You lean back, landing once again on his keys and at this point he laughs, darkly, telling you which notes to write down and with a shaky hand—you do.

“You’re getting so many fucking stickers today.”

Your heart stops its feral beats and you gaze down at him with a tormented look, your brows furrowed, eyes lidded and cheeks flushed. Yoongi bites his lip and gets his sheet of silver little stars.

He peels one out. “This one's for you coming at the right time.” He sticks it to that one side of your inner thigh that he left unkissed, the sticky part latching to your skin without a hint of a problem. “And this one’s for your smart little brain.”

He sticks it to the bone right across your cunt, smoothing it out with his thumb that then begins to travel and crosses the distance to the soaked center of your panties. Yoongi sucks in a breath as he peers down at the outline of your flesh, parting your thighs a little to gaze up at you through his lashes. “You have two tasks,” he rasps, brushing his lips across your clothed, dampened flesh.

You grip the table beneath you, letting out a whiny sigh, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Pay attention.”

A simple, low order and you pop them open, breathing out in staccatos. He runs that thumb over your clit, puts a little pressure over it. You bite your lip, straining your ears, but the faint pleasure makes it a little bit difficult for you.

“I’m gonna rub this clit and you don’t get my tongue unless you tell me the name of the store, where you’re getting new pairs of tights from today.” He focuses on your nub, circling it with soft grazes that he knows they get you riled up nice and fast, needy and drenched. It’s what he does when you’re watching a movie together and wind up not knowing how it ends. “And once you come for me, you get another sticker for being such a good girl. Is that clear?”

Your lungs heave and your mind spins, your brain cells shrinking with your arousal. You lick your lips. Wetness stains your panties even more. “And the other task?”

He slaps the side of your thigh, making you jump. “I asked you a question, did I not?”

Such abrupt meanness. Other times, it would get you going, but today it’s not something that you’re really feeling. Maybe it’s due to the fact that you’re ovulating and you need the gentleness that he’s more than capable of giving you.

You drift a hand down his face, stopping with your thumb at his lips, tracing the upper line. So soft, so puffy. “Be nice to me, Yoongi.”

His eyes round and a glint perches itself on the top of his chocolate irises. Yoongi sets your feet on both of his armrests. Leans his head against your thigh, looking up at you with a tender half smile.

“Is that an order?” he asks, flattening his fingers across your clit and strumming it, the pleasure heightening and you sink your teeth into the bottom pillow of your mouth, your body following the wave of the delight he provides you, rolling.

“Yes. Be nice or no pussy.”

He gasps, lowly, his smile transforming into that smirk of his that has the tendency to weaken you through and through. “You wouldn’t do that to me.”

Your heart throbs and you love it. “Yes, I would.”

You go to close your legs and sit up, but he stops you. “Okay, fair enough.”

Oh, that solid calmness of his, perfumed with his horniness. You grin, pleased. “Will you be nice?”

Yoongi licks over the bare skin of your thigh, rubbing his face in it. “I’ll be an angel like you if you do the tasks.”

You roll your eyes. A quid pro quo. Fair enough.

“Okay, be an angel to me then and come here,” you purr, aware of the fact that he got you into this mirrored maze of his horniness and you love it, delight in it, which is the sole, unabashed reason why you tug the back of his head down to your cunt, holding him to you.

Yoongi opens his mouth just at the right time, licking over your clothed clit and moaning. But then he fights against your hold and spanks your pussy, smiling playfully up at you while biting his lip.

You jump, whimpering.

“I didn’t hear you say the name of the store,” he retorts, rubbing, properly, your bedewed nub with slow, agonizing circles.

Fuck.

Your breathing quickens and you scramble your blank brain to remember any store that has the least expensive tights. You say the name of the first one that pops up.

Yoongi doesn’t like your answer, though.

He spanks your clit, gently.

“Think again. I’m not buying you anything that will last you for a day. Don’t play me.”

You can’t help the heavy smile rising on your face, your cheeks heating up so much that they ache. And it helps you, his bull-headedness on buying you high-quality garments that are worth the money, to fight—like he did against your hold—your deeply imprinted independence and utter, shyly, with little hiccups, the name of the store that will keep your legs warm throughout the unforgiving Korean wintertime.

“That’s it, baby. Good girl. Let Oppa take these off now.”

Your stomach flips at the title. You’ve always been obsessed with it—as it, without fail, provoked your independence and slowly transformed you into the mindset of a little girl, taken care of by someone stronger, smarter and older than her. All while keeping it intact.

Yoongi knows you can do everything on your own. And he supports it. But it doesn’t mean he’s not willing to give you a hand.

The same hand he now uses to bring your panties to the waistband of your thighs near the back of your knees, dragging it down that skin. He spreads your cunt with both of his hands, gasping lowly at the sheen that greets him and magnetically pulls him in.

He kitten licks your clit and your elbows tremble, giving out on you—another melodies wafting through the air that make him chuckle into your pussy, engraving vibrations that encourage you to lean back all the way and take what he gives you.

“Write that down, can you do that?” he asks, and when he hears you clicking his pen, he tells you which notes those were. You scribble it down, messily, your hand quivering and painting an obscure picture in his notepad as he begins to suck on your clit in intense waves. You shudder, terribly, the lines of his own pen dark, long and disordered like you.

You give in, moaning so loud that he intones with you.

And what you never expected—the tones of your noises provide him with an inspiration he cannot miss. Withdrawing with a wet chin and stealing his pen from you, he jots it down, propping the notepad on your thighs, smiling at the picture you painted.

Writes something else down, too, while you quiver for him, waiting for his tongue.

He kisses your thigh, ravagedly. “Sing these lyrics.”

Taking it from him, the words blur on the paper because he sinks a finger inside your heat, curling it to that spot that he favors, fucking you with a fast motion that unables you, completely, to let out a sound colored by his geniality.

“Come on, baby. Sing for Oppa.”

You cry out, clenching your muscles—scream as he latches his mouth to your clit, flicking it with the tip of his equally genius tongue.

The lab spins, not just your mind.

“I can’t—I can’t. Oh my God, Yoongi, fuck,” you drag out the curse word, the notepad falling out of your hand and plopping onto the ground.

Yoongi hums, delighted, sucking on your nub so vivaciously that your orgasm nears. As if sensing it, he adds another finger in. Validates the incoming of your splendid explosion by making quick, little, deep sounds that lead you to that peak.

You grasp his hair, tightly, humping his mouth. From your own spill screams that fade into soft moans, resplendent of the notes he liked so much and he fucks your hole faster. Pulls out his mouth just a little, flicking your clit from side to side—and you realize he did it so he can watch you come for him.

Come for your Oppa.

And you do. With a squeak, one that fades to a legato, tender moan of his title. With an eye contact that freezes time for a century. And, suddenly, just like that—it’s just you, him and the winter.

Snowflakes that ache to seep into yours and his cheeks.

Yoongi growls. His male pheromones spill out of him like liquid that washes over you and you get a sticker.

Right in the center of your mound.

And he fucks you into wintry oblivion, a snowstorm that swaddles you closer and closer to him. The table rattles, key notes sound out, the slapping of skin conjures ideas in the magnificence of his brain. And then he comes.

With a final stroke and a rope of his cum all over the sticker near your pleasured cunt, he resumes the time.

But both you and him are newly constituted by that winter-kissed century, chiseled by it and irrevocably changed by it.

Yoongi cleans you up and dresses you. You find out he didn’t rip your tights and you give him such a soft, endeared look for it that he coos, chuckling, and pats your disheveled hair, smoothing it down. He kisses you once he fixes you up and, grabbing his keys, phone and wallet, he drives you to the mall, to that exact store you mentioned, to buy you a myriad of tights to last you for a half of a century, grazed and fondled by winter.

And he leads you back to the studio, besprinkled with the snow’s affection, where you watch him create a song out of your pleasured voice, sampling one of your favorite oldie’s tunes that you end up yanking him up to his feet to dance with him to it. The raspy voice of Ray Charles envelops Yoongi’s hands as he guides your hips and he kisses you until the late night hours.

And in those late night hours, he watches you, like the angel you are, as you sing the poetry he wrote with your help.

Neverland doesn’t exist anymore. Not for you at least.

The darker place he took you to is one breathing with the gesture of helping your lover. Warm, moody and timbered. The licks of flames and the earnestness of a love that depends, without fear, on the other person.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ divider by kthice ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan, @euphoricmyth, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, @hobiberrystuff, @kam9404.

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heliads · 5 months

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Can you do Peter Pan x reader OUAT? Peter goes to the modern world with Emma, Snow, David and them as they are looking for someone. He meets this girl and takes an interest to her. He’s never seen someone with facial piercings, and dyed hair before, they come to realize she is the girl they’ve been looking for.

'magic finds magic' - peter pan

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Peter Pan is leaving Neverland. Worse, he’s leaving Neverland alongside Snow, Emma, David, and Hook. In terms of traveling partners, this has got to be the lowest of the low. However, the sand in Peter’s immortal hourglass is running out, and his first attempt at prolonging his life with the heart of Henry Mills didn’t exactly go according to plan. It’s this or nothing, even though Peter is starting to wonder if it would be better to just die than put up with these people any longer.

Never in his life did Peter Pan think he’d be working with the good guys. But never in his life did Peter think he’d be dying, either. A few compromises will have to be made in the name of preserving Peter’s everlasting life, and if that means he has to put up with some princesses and pirates for a few days, so be it. In no time at all, his immortal life will be restored, and he can go back to Neverland and put all of this behind him. Hopefully.

Peter was supposed to die back on Neverland. He was running out of time, anyway. He had set up the perfect scheme: kidnap Henry, disorient the boy’s rescuers on his island long enough to win the Heart of the Truest Believer, and cut the organ out of the boy’s chest if necessary. He’d almost gotten away with it, too, except he was foiled at the last minute. Heartbreaking. So unlike him.

For some reason, though, he hadn’t been left to die in the caverns of Skull Rock. Emma and the others had needed him, for some odd reason, and although none of them trust him in the slightest, they do trust Peter’s single-minded selfishness to keep himself alive. So they claim, at least, and so they had gotten a spell to give Peter one more week of life in exchange for help. If this plan works out, Peter will have a way to continue his immortal life without needing to murder Henry. If it doesn’t, or if he betrays them, he’ll die anyway.

He can feel it now, the pang of his close call with death. There’s a pain in his chest that wasn’t there before, a certain weakness in his lungs. Peter gets tired more easily. He feels– well, he feels like Henry and Emma. He feels mortal. Like he could die at any moment.

Peter has, obviously, thought about double-crossing them, maybe even triple-crossing them, but it’s no use. He feels shakily mortal right now, and Peter does not much enjoy the possibility of his own demise. This is the closest he’s ever come to being beaten, and Peter hates the feeling. He’ll have to play along for now, but after that, he will have his revenge.

First, though, Peter has to do what the others want. They’ve been careful to reveal as few details to him as possible, but the idea is solid. There’s a magical person somewhere in the modern world, in a city far from Storybrooke. This person is like the embodiment of a true love’s kiss spell, designed to renew hope in storybook characters through small acts of power that ultimately drive two needed people together. They’re like a guardian angel of those on the brink of destruction, which is exactly what Peter needs right now.

Peter has plenty of time to mull this over. They’ve forced him into a terrible, small room with awful carpets– an apartment, Emma called it– while they talk out what to do with both him and their missing spell-person. Peter is trying to focus, but he’s getting stared at by Henry Mills again, which is absolutely ruining his mood.

“What do you want?” Peter asks, glaring at the boy.

Henry just goggles back at him. “Don’t you feel bad for trying to kill me?”

Peter snorts. “Why would I do that?”

Henry shrugs. “You pretended you were my friend. I know you like the other Lost Boys on your island, I thought you would have felt bad for killing one of them. I guess not.”

“I don’t feel bad about killing someone so I would live,” Peter says, then wonders why he’s arguing with a child. “Go preach your morals to someone who wants to listen.”

“The others are busy,” Henry pouts.

Peter eyes him unhappily. “And what, I’m your best option for polite conversation? You really are desperate, aren’t you?”

Henry rolls his eyes. “I’d say you’re desperate. You’re the one who’s still talking to me.”

Peter can’t really argue with that, so he deftly changes the topic of conversation before Henry starts looking proud of himself again. “Tell me about our target again. You said you saw them before?”

“Only in a dream,” Henry admits, “but it was a clear dream, I swear. I saw a girl who looked about your age. She seemed like any other teenager, but there was something about her that was different. The way she spoke, maybe, or the glint in her eyes. She was magical, I’m sure of it. She can save Storybrooke.”

“And save me,” Peter reminds him. “That’s the important part.”

Henry rolls his eyes again. If he keeps that up, they’re going to get stuck like that forever. “Yes, I know, you’re only interested in keeping yourself alive. So long as it helps us find this girl, though, I don’t care.”

Peter leans forward. “What’s your plan for finding this girl, then? A little scouting party? This city is big. You’ll never find her.”

Henry shakes his head. “Magic has a way of finding magic. Somehow, our paths will cross.”

“That’s a terrible strategy,” Peter grouses. Why is he entrusting his life to this boy again? He remembers something about having no other options, but it doesn’t seem as good an excuse right now.

“Ask the adults, then,” Henry tells him, and gestures towards the miniscule apartment kitchen, where Emma, Snow, Hook, and David are currently huddled around a table, talking in hushed voices about what to do.

Not wanting to mess with the kid anymore, Peter pulls himself to his feet and heads over. “Tell me you have a plan,” he says.

The adults look up at him. “Find the girl,” Hook says shortly. “That’s our plan.”

Peter scoffs. “You could search this city for months and not find her. What if she doesn’t want to be found? If this girl has any brains at all, she’ll know that people will want her magic and she’ll hide. It’s what I would do.”

Emma sighs. “We don’t even know if this girl knows that she has magic. She’s probably just living an ordinary life, and we’re about to drag her out of it with all of our trouble.”

“Don’t tell me you feel bad for her,” Peter scolds her. “You want this, don’t you? So go get it, or I will.”

Snow tries to tell him to calm down, but David, so quick to anger when it comes to Peter, surges out of his chair. “How about you do something helpful and think with us instead of just insulting us?”

“I will do something helpful,” Peter informs him. “I’ll find her first.”

With that, he lunges for the apartment door, and is out of the tiny room and down the hall before they can stop him. Peter hears the thunder of footsteps after him, but he hurries down the stairs and out of the building. He has the advantage of being quick on his feet; if Neverland taught him anything, it’s how to run when you don’t want to be found.

Peter emerges into the bright sunshine of the city and stops dead in his tracks. He’s not used to the modern world, how the knives of its buildings slash up into the sky, how loud it is with those cars and signs and people. Peter swears he can even see metal things in the sky, soaring along predestined paths. It’s all so much compared to the world he used to know. No wonder some of the others had a hard time adjusting. His mortal heart lets out a pang of sympathy.

The door of the apartment building flies open, revealing Emma and the others hot on his trail. Peter curses under his breath and takes off in one direction, hurtling around pedestrians and shooting down the sidewalk. He heads for smaller streets, hoping to lose them in a swarm of alleyways. The others, more used to the terrain of the modern city, are gaining on him, and Peter is just starting to think that he’ll never be able to shake them when someone grabs him and pulls him into a nearby building.

Peter’s first instinct is to defend himself, but when he isn’t attacked, he realizes that the stranger is only trying to help him. There’s a window just to his left, and Peter watches Emma and the others appear seconds after him. They didn’t see him enter the shop, and keep sprinting down the road in the direction they thought he’d gone. Peter waits a few more intense moments, then decides that he’s lost them for good and turns back around to see who’s gone to the trouble of rescuing him.

He’s greeted with the sight of a girl about his age. She’s eyeing him cautiously, although the corners of her lips begin to prick up with a wicked grin. “Sorry for the rough introduction, but you looked like you needed some help,” she tells him.

Peter lets out a short laugh. “I’m glad to be rid of them, that’s for sure.”

The girl arches a brow. “What, did they catch you shoplifting? I’ve never seen people run that fast unless they were getting chased by the cops.”

Peter narrows his eyes, trying to figure out how on earth he would lift a shop, then decides it’s probably some slang term he doesn’t know. “Something like that,” he says evasively.

He studies the girl’s face to see if he’d answered correctly, and, judging by her impressed grin, he had. “Nice,” she says. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Peter,” he replies. He gets the urge to introduce himself as he usually would– Peter, Peter Pan– then remembers at the last second that Emma had warned him about telling people who he was. Apparently, telling people he was a fictional character in their world wouldn’t go over too well.

“Peter,” the girl repeats. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Peter says, and realizes belatedly that he means it. He feels like how he had at the start of it all, when the Lost Boys had first started appearing on this island, but this feeling is far stronger. He wants to get to know this girl. He certainly doesn’t want her to leave.

“I’m new to the city,” he says abruptly. “Any chance you could show me around?”

Y/N laughs, surprised. “You’re new and you’re already in trouble? You’ll fit right in, Peter.”

He grins, in on the joke a half beat late. “I like to have fun, that’s all.”

“Well,” Y/N says, starting to lead him back towards the door of the shop, “I like fun, too. Maybe we should stick together.”

“I’d like that,” Peter says, then wonders why he’s being so honest all of a sudden. When he sees Y/N’s smile– real this time, not sarcastic or joking, but genuinely because of him– he thinks he knows why.

The two of them step back out into the light. “Where to first?” Peter asks.

“I was going to ask you that,” Y/N replies. “What do you want to do? Sightseeing, maybe? We can get some food, or just talk.”

“Anything,” he says. He’d follow her anywhere. The feeling in him right now is like nothing he’s ever felt before. The pain in his chest, Peter realizes with some surprise, is gone. He feels immortal. Like living in this one moment could last forever.

They end up spending the next few hours together. Y/N shows him around the city, taking Peter to her favorite spots. Peter stares at the vast cityscape and finally starts to understand why someone might choose the modern world over the natural one. He’ll always pick Neverland first, of course, but seeing the world through Y/N’s eyes, it makes sense.

The two of them get along like a house on fire. Y/N’s got this rebellious streak to her that fits in perfectly with Peter’s, well, Peter-ness. No joke is too dark, no sarcastic comment too caustic. They feel the same. Peter doesn’t think he’s ever met someone who thinks so much like him.

As the sun starts to set in the sky, Peter feels his spirits sinking. He doesn’t want to let go of this day, not when he knows it can never happen again. He’s supposed to be finding Henry’s spell-girl, but all Peter wants to do is spend more time with Y/N.

His mood is especially ruined when they turn a corner and find Henry Mills walking towards them. Peter’s eyes widen and he tries to steer Y/N back in the direction they’d come, but it’s too late. Henry lets out an audible gasp and starts hurrying towards them.

“Peter,” Henry calls out when he’s close enough to talk, “We’ve been looking for you all over! Where have you been?”

Y/N glances at Henry dubiously. “Who’s this?”

“My little brother,” Peter blurts out.

At the same time, Henry chimes in, “My friend from school.”

Peter shoots the younger boy a quick glare, then turns back to Y/N. “Both, actually. He’s my step-brother. Recent marriage. We’re still getting acclimated. Our family is a little chaotic.”

“You can say that again,” Henry mumbles. Peter fights the urge to butcher him.

While Peter silently advises himself on why murder would be bad at a time like this, Henry stares openly at Y/N. All of a sudden, the boy’s mouth hangs open. “Oh my gosh, it’s you.”

Y/N’s brow furrows. “Excuse me?”

All of a sudden, Peter feels a sick sensation in his stomach. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t.

“You’re the girl from my dream,” Henry announces. “We’ve been looking for you.”

Y/N looks back at Peter. “What’s he talking about?”

The open, carefree expression, which had been on her face all day, is starting to be replaced with deep, unsettled fear. Peter hates to see it directed at him. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he begins. “Something about yourself.”

“You’re sounding a little creepy right now,” Y/N warns him. “Get to the point.”

“Alright,” Peter says. “You’re magical. So am I. We need your help to break a curse and save my life. How about that?”

Y/N shakes her head quickly. “This is crazy. Magic isn’t real.”

Peter can’t lose her, not like this, so he leans forward and holds out his hand. A ball of light appears inside his cupped fingers, glowing and bright. It’s a simple charm, one of the first he learned, but it has the desired effect.

Y/N stares at it, transfixed, and when she speaks again, her voice is hushed. “That’s impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible,” Peter says. “Not magic. Not even the fact that you would find me in this city by accident. Magic is drawn to magic.”

Y/N’s eyes slowly raise to meet his. “This is real, then. I have magic.”

“You have magic,” Peter confirms. “Come with us, we can show you. They’re good people, Y/N. You can trust them.”

It’s the closest he’s ever come to honesty. For once, Peter isn’t playing a game. He isn’t trying to trick Y/N over to his side. He just wants her to be safe, and he knows that isn’t through lies.

Y/N smiles at him. “I trust you, Peter. That’s enough for me.”

She reaches over and takes his hand. Now that he’s focusing on it, Peter can feel the slow loop of her magic when they touch. It feels like power, but more than that, it feels like life. A life with her, maybe. A life for both of them.

ouat tag list: @loveanimals0000, @eclliipsed, @w1shes43, @lost-ender

all tags list: @wordsarelife

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wonryllis · 8 months

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𐙚 THE THREE STAGES OF DATING PARK SUNGHOON.

𝒏o𝓉ℯs. park sunghoon with fem!reader 𖥔 ݁ strangers to fling to lovers, absolute fluff. LIB? word count `1115 a revamp

` —IN ALL REALITIES, i want to be tied to you by heart.

001. from a fling to newfound lovers.

sitting beside the window, you watch the rain pouring down hitting against the glass and slipping like drops of tear. the music in your earphones blaring into your ears like you’re in a different world, numbing like an apocalypse. the bus stops for a while and a minute later you feel the presence of one sit beside you; it’s sunghoon, he runs a hand through his slightly wet hair trying to brush off the raindrops and adjusts his blazer before he looks at you with a rather brazen look on his face. raising his brows cockily and reaching forward to pull out one of your buds, to put it in his ear.

as he takes your hand resting on your lap into his, fingers intertwining with yours in a gentle squeeze, you look at him questioningly, “i thought you were going to take your car?” he smiles faintly turning his face to return your gaze, not a viable response, just brown orbs staring at you. his other hand moves to trace his ring on your index finger, the one he gave you this weekend, “wanted to spend some more time with you.”

it was almost ten at night when you had gotten his text to come outside, that he had something to say to you. he ended up confessing and asking you out after you got into an argument about him treating you like you were a summer fling; things could have ended in so many different ways but you’re grateful that for once the sunghoon you knew, put his ego and pride behind and admitted his wrong.

and now that he has entered your life, your world, you wish nothing but for him to stay as long as he can in there. you know this might not go on for forever but however long it may be, you want to put all your heart and efforts into it. it’s just your second day, you have a long way to go, “then let’s go to school together from now on, be it the bus or your car.” and sunghoon swears his heart has never felt what it felt when he heard your voice just now..and your smile: the first love kind. perhaps his first love? only time could tell him.

002. the step to a vulnerable heart.

“your eyes are so pretty,” he blurts out, staring at you with hearts oozing out of him,“sunghoon, i’m literally crying here,” you laugh with a pout, pulling out tissues from the box to wipe your tears and the mascara rolling down the skin of your cheeks. “but you still look so pretty, like a doll.” grinning lazily he holds the side of his head, leaning against the back of the couch while admiring you like a piece of artwork.

it makes you feel even more emotional than you already do,“i look like a mess not a doll” glaring at him playfully, you softly hit his thigh,“but i love the you mess.” his smile grows wider and brighter, pupils dilated, his warm presence feeling like an invitation to neverland; like peter to your wendy.

“stop being so cringey or i’m going to start bawling my eyes out again.” and as if on que you pause for a moment before breaking down again “stop being so pretty then- i told you not to go to that reunion” sunghoon scolds you as he takes the tissue from the grasp of your fingers and holding your face, delicately wipes the falling tears, thumbs caressing the top of your eyes giving it a gentle massage. you weren’t planning to attend the said reunion but the hopes of rekindling your friendship with your ex-bff and clear out the misunderstandings from high school overcame your desire to skip it.

instead all you got were harsh words and false accusations, something sunghoon had already predicted would happen but now all that matters to him is for you to feel better. though it’s true that in his eyes even a mess you look like an angel from heaven he’d rather see you without tears of sadness. he holds onto your hands and kissing your knuckles pulls you into a hug, patting your back in a kind of comfort you know only he can provide. to him you are one displayed at the greatest of exhibitions. a private room where only he can admire the work of emotions.

003. your honeymoon ever after.

you look at sunghoon with confused eyes as he abruptly stops after closing the door to your apartment and turns to you. taking out both of your hands which were previously in his coat pockets he grabs your cheeks, squeezing your face with a lovestruck smile and heart eyes. he pecks the tip of your nose,“your face has gotten cold, i’ll have to kiss it warm,” grinning he plants another two kisses on your cheeks, then the top of your eyelids then your forehead, then three on your lips,“it’s a bonus.”

later when you’re in the kitchen making some hot chocolate and coffee for you both, he comes in, grabs your hand and starts placing kisses on your knuckles before rubbing the skin of your hands between his palms to warm them more,“sunghoon, the heater is on,” you look at him wanting to see what he has to say. he nods giving a lovely wide smile,“i know, just- your hands are precious,”

the next time he behaves this way is an hour later when you’re cuddling in the balcony, stargazing together in the pillow&blanket fort you both made there. he makes you sit between his legs with your back against his front and hugging you from behind, leaving smooches on top of your head,“your hair smells nice,” he mumbles between his kisses, it makes you laugh. just what exactly has happened to him. after he stops you put your head in the crook of his neck and ask,“are you okay, baby? why are you acting like this all of a sudden?”

he locks eyes with you and in a stare of pure love and adoration,“i just realized how lucky i am to have you, you’re so precious and i love you so much. thank you for being with me,” with that he presses another kiss to your temple and hugs you tighter. soon as he’s way into dreamland, snoring softly, you look at his peaceful face and peck his lips with a smile,“i love you a lot too, thank you for coming into my life.” he definitely heard that even in his dreams.

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @nanabbg @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly

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cybsoo2 · 27 days

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temptation

01. neverland is not a dream

╰┈➤ synopsis — Shipwrecked, you find yourself stranded on a strange island. After searching the shores, you stumble across a rather annoying boy. His leads you to safety and you start to question what future, fate will bestow upon you.

╰┈➤ pairing — yandere!faerie!txt x reader

╰┈➤ word count — 4.3k

╰┈➤ content warning — slight angst

ੈ✩‧₊˚ note ; AAHH I’M SO EXCITED BUT SCARED TO POST THIS!!hopefully the taglist works cuz its my first time using one. also pls don’t be shy to interact or ask any questions. i luv to hear yall yap •ᴗ•

The salty sea is unfamiliar to your tongue. The waves that wash over you kiss your lips with every swell. The ocean breathes in shallow breaths that turn the tide. You’re swallowed under a sudden wave when you finally decide to open your eyes.

Your cheek is pressed up against a cool surface. You reach out to run your fingers through the soft sand; digging your hand in deeper to ground yourself. Dehydration has left you dizzy. You lick your lips to get rid of dryness; spitting out the bits of sand that stick to your tongue.

You turn on your back to gauge your surroundings. A bright light blinds you and you bring up your hand to shield your eyes. The warm rays slip past your fingertips. You drop your arm back down once your eyes begin to settle in the sunlight. The void is filled with a bright blue. Millions of miles of nothing but the sapphire shade. The sea and sky battle against each other, two shades morphing into one. No ships sailing, no birds fluttering, you’re entirely alone in this vast expanse of nothingness.

You turn to the side, pieces of your past shipwreck are spread out across the shore. You reach out to touch the destruction. Discarded and decaying, all symbols of safety are ruined. Your breath begins to grow heavy. This realization rests like a 20 pound weight on your chest. You sit up slightly, leaning back on your elbows. Whipping your head around you, you can see that the beach goes on for miles. It stretches out across the horizon and wraps around the curves of the island. Sand, trees, and wreckage are all that you can see.

You stand up fast, fighting off the feeling of lightheadedness. You swallow down the sandpaper sensation in your throat.

“Hello!” Your voice tears into your throat. “Is anyone there?! Hello!” Your brittle voice breaks down against its misuse, but you continue screaming into the silence. While you shout at the seashore, you begin to search the beach for any stragglers from the wreck. Desperate eyes scour the empty shore as your cries are carried out to sea.

You continue to search for what feels like hours until hope holds out its hand and shows you what seems to be… footprints?

Small markings are dug into the sand and you sprint ahead to take a look. The tracks start in the sand and stretch out into the treeline. You walk alongside them, matching each step with your own. The footprints draw you further into the unknown forest. The woods welcome you. Shifting and reshaping its terrain to form a faint path. It pulls you in before you can think twice.

Too naive to understand and too distraught to care, you turn a blind eye to your surroundings. Unbeknownst to you, magic flows through the forest. Running like roots through the entire island. It’s intertwined with the trees, dispersed in the air, and familiar to any lifeform that calls this island home.

While you may not understand what is still unknown, you can feel a power that pulses in the air. An aura that you can’t quite put a name to, but can recognize its strength and ecstasy. It makes a faint humming noise that rings in your ears and hovers with every step you take. It’s not a nuisance like one would assume, rather a relaxant that washes away your worries.

This feeling feels familiar, as is everything else that meets your eye. Nothing has any resemblance to reality. Everything is warped into a perfect, pink, picture. In your hazy recollection, it reminds you of a drifting dream. The place where sorrow and anger are absent. It’s a child’s paradise filled with fairies, mermaids, monsters, and all things interesting. A sacred sanctuary reserved for the fallen youth. Yet, it’s a wonder how you wound up here. An island lost at sea, never mapped and only known to those who spend their lives searching for it. Perhaps, the devil needed a shiny new thing to toy with. And who is he to resist a sweet thing so pure.

You’ve followed your fantasies to temptation. Lured out by someone else’s lucky streak. The gates left unguarded to a new and interesting enigma. But when what you believe to be a dream starts morphing into a realm of reality, why would you want to leave? Even when you realize that the roots run red with dark desires and a sinful touch, would you even be able to escape?

A rustling in the bushes causes you to look up from your feet. You gain a feeling of unease and stop to hold your breath. The trees seem to taunt you, dropping leaves on your head that make you jump out of your skin. The bushes shake with laughter and the birds twitter teasing remarks.

You can feel yourself growing closer. A certain presence plays hide-and-seek in the shadows. A storm swims in your stomach, the tides turning and making you feel almost powerless; like prey being toyed with before the predator pounces. The sinking sensation drags you down, your feet feeling like lead and knees threatening to give in. But you push through the fear, determined to find a solution to this mess.

You follow the footsteps further into the forest. Twisting and turning leaving you dizzy with dread. The tracks even appear to do laps and loops around you. Have you gotten lost already? You stop to settle your doubt for only a second before continuing on the crooked path. You remain running, just trying to hold on to your sanity while the sun begins to set. Darkness is falling fast and you'd like to find some sort of shelter before the sky submits to the black abyss.

As the minutes morph into miles, the footprints seem to appear fainter. Almost as if the culprit is floating with softer steps. The footprints then stop completely in the middle of nowhere. Two prints pressed into the dirt drop off into thin air. Nobody stands before you, no noises are heard, you’re surrounded by nothing at all. You lean down to give the prints a closer look and-

“BOO!” A sudden shout sends you to the ground. A shocked scream leaves your lips as you turn around in terror. You look up from your spot, sprawled out on the forest floor to see what seems to be… a boy? His silhouette blocks the sun, hiding his face under a dark overcast. He peers down into your eyes. You’re only able to make out the smug smile that settles itself in the shadows. He gives a soft laugh before asking, “I scared you didn’t I?” There’s a playful tone to his words and while he stares down at you with a smile on his lips and a shine in his eyes, you sit in shock. All coherent words have run away from your mind, leaving you stranded in silence with a stranger.

The boy kneels down in front of you, holding himself up with his hands. Curiosity catches his heart and he moves to poke and prod at the pretty little thing that has fallen at his feet. He brings one hand up to start teasing at your hair. He toys with the loose locks and tugs at it when you attempt to back away.

“Who are you?” You ask with hesitancy. The boy only continues to pull at your hair, ignoring your question. “You weren’t from the shipwreck were you? I would’ve remembered you.” The boy's attention seems to have been captured by your question.

“You would’ve remembered me? Do you really think I’m that handsome?” He says with a smirk. His hand has stopped still in your hair, now fully focused on observing your reaction.

“No, I just would’ve remembered someone annoying like you.” Although his attractiveness does grab your attention, your sudden irritation at his behavior is much more prominent. Smacking his hand away from your hair, you stand up from your spot on the ground and he’s quick to follow. A faint frown falls on his face. “Are you from here then? Do you know how to help me?” He seems to stare right through your questions, amused by your actions instead of concerned. “Do you know how I can get off the island?”

“Why would you want to leave? Have you looked around you?” He asks in confusion and stares at you like you're stupid.

You tilt your head from staring at him to look at the trees tinted pink. Blushing blossoms sprout from each branch while butterflies flutter around you. The sliver of sunshine that snakes through the treetops shines down on the forest floor. The light reflects off every shiny surface, producing glitter in the air.

The boy drags you out of your heavenly haze once he takes two steps closer. He leans forward the slightest bit to be on eye level.

“I’ll answer your questions if you answer mine.” His question comes off more demanding than you expected, leaving no room for disagreement. You nod your head to agree and he begins his interrogation. “You said you were in a shipwreck, what exactly do you mean?”

You spill your secrets into the silence. “I’d been traveling by ship for about a week before a storm hit, and well… we went under.” Your voice begins to break off. A shiver crawling down your spine at the recollection of the horrific incident. Water lines your weary eyes, but you blink back your tears before you can get caught up in your emotions. You rub at your eyes rather roughly, ignoring the boy’s intensive staring as you ask your question again. “There has to be some way to leave the island. Are there any boats? Any other survivors?”

“There might be.” He stares straight into your skull. Almost as if he’s trying to search your thoughts with x-ray vision. Your agitation only seems to grow at his unclear answers.

“Well, where are they? Can you take me to them?” Your voice grows frantic, clinging onto the frail piece of hope that there might be help for you.

“What if I don’t want to tell you?” The strange boy seems to gain a sick sense of enjoyment watching you struggle. Your anger rises into your cheeks and a cherry blossom blush bleeds into your face. The boy has to hold back another taunt at the tip of his tongue.

“What? Why not?!”

“Why not? You ask too many questions, it’s starting to get on my nerves.” The boy rolls his eyes in irritation. He takes a step closer and you stare up at him through a shocked expression. Before you can yell out your annoyance and anger at his lack of sympathy, he shuts you up with some interesting information.

“And it doesn’t matter anyways, even if I wanted to help you, I wouldn’t be able to.”

You ask your next question already dreading the answer, “And why’s that.”

“Because no one ever leaves.” He shrugs at the answer as if it’s a simple thing to say. As if he hasn’t broken any inkling of hope you still held dear to your heart. Your heartstrings snap apart and leave a searing pain that lingers. You gaze at the stranger in disbelief, unable to accept his confession. It’s only then that you realize you’ve started to cry when he reaches out to touch the teardrops. He pokes at the pink that lines your under eye, a pout of clumsy curiosity pulls at his lips.

Beomgyu doesn’t understand how he hurt you, he just knows that he did. Teardrops and falling frowns are not something he’s familiar with, he’s only ever seen them in a man’s last moments. Which is why he can’t comprehend how such simple words can cut you clean. Your heart is like a fragile flower, the blossoming bud burrows deep inside your left breast. But everytime a tear rolls off your cheek, a petal drops dead.

He’s never had to think twice about his actions. Always being so bold and brazen with his friends that just found him to be funny. But as your strange soul stands in front of him, a sliver of doubt festers under his skin. He tries to retract his answer, hoping that this time the tears will stop.

“Maybe there might be a way for you to leave.” His mouth is moving before he can stop himself. Why is his heart reacting this way? He doesn’t want you to leave… but he doesn’t want to upset you anymore.

In an instant, that shining sliver of hope blooms back in your heart. “Really? How?” You wipe away your remaining tears. Looking down at the ground instead of his eyes, you try to hide your easy emotions.

He hesitates for a moment, unsure if he should lie or tell the truth. He’s selfish and wants you all to himself, but that doesn’t mean he’s stupid. The others would find out about you eventually and he’d just get into more trouble in the long run. One last look into your tear-struck eyes has him making up his mind. “One of my brothers knows a lot more about the island than I do, so I’d have to take you to him.”

“Then let’s go!” You start walking off into the forest. You don’t know where you’re going but you’re eager to reach a resolution as soon as possible.

“You’re impatient aren’t you? And I hope you know that I can’t promise he’ll agree to let you leave.” Beomgyu scurries on after you, matching your fast pace and walking side by side. His eyes never drift far from your face. They always linger, looking at how unhidden your emotions are. He takes in the way your eyebrows are cinched in irritation, your eyes open wide with hope & hurt, and your lips that fall into a frown at his words.

“Why not?” You stop walking and turn to look at him. “ Look, I promise I don’t want to cause any trouble. But whether you like it or not, I’m stuck here. I bet you that I want to leave this place more than you wish I was gone, but I need help in order to do that.” Desperation is laced deep into your voice. It borders on begging and for some reason Beomgyu finds himself slightly disturbed by your distress. Your serious tone makes him squirm and an uncomfortable sensation swims in his stomach.

“You didn’t have to take it so seriously,” He lets out a light laugh, trying to take down some of the tension. “I’m just saying that he’ll probably want to make sure you aren’t dangerous is all. Which I bet you aren’t, I could never imagine someone like you being a pirate.” As if he’s trying to rub salt in the wound, he pokes at your chubby cheeks. Trying to get the message across that you couldn’t be less intimidating if you tried.

You shy away from the boy, turning your head to the side to get rid of his touch. You’re beginning to grow tired of his annoying advances. Immature and uncaring are all you see him as. Really, he’s just a boy. He’s about your age but it’s clear he’s been sheltered from the cruel chaos of the world. Hidden away to live an easy life on this island. But then again, perhaps you’re speaking too soon.

The snap of a twig brings you both out of the silence. Your heads shoot up in the direction of the noise. Only when you’ve been given the chance to look do you realize how fast night has fallen. The shadows swallow you whole. A cloak of darkness covers the sky, drowning out the ashes of the sun. The trees are tangled into one another, twisting and intertwining to create a confusing thicket. The black branches hold hands to ensure that you can not escape.

In a sudden flash of fear, you turn to Beomgyu for a solution. But the once bold boy now appears much more bashful than before. What were once witty comments and playful remarks have been transformed into a stolen silence. It’s so unlike Beomgyu to be without words, but suddenly, he finds himself fearful of what hides behind the trees. After all, when he’s alone with his own emotions, he’s just all bark and no bite.

You take a step back from the bushes, your hand brushing against Beomgyu’s as you come closer. He seems to have the same idea as he follows your footsteps. Further away from the sudden sound and farther into the forest.

“What was that?” You whisper.

“I don’t know.” He states simply.

You turn to look at him with a glare, “Aren’t you the one that lives on the island? Shouldn’t you know what animals come out after dark.” Your anger is quick to rise again. You really couldn’t be more unlucky, getting shipwrecked and stuck with the one boy that’s incapable of helping you.

Beomgyu doesn’t respond, instead he stares at the eyes in the dark. The irises are opposites, one shines like a star, filled with intrigue. While the other burns with an angry intensity, fueled by malice. The glowing eyes grow bigger as the creature comes closer. Silent footsteps travel fast and just before it jumps out of the bushes, you and Beomgyu break into a sprint.

You both run from the creature that crawls at night. It’s an imaginary monster that only exists in this eternal paradise: A Beast bound in blood from its last meal. An animal that runs rampant, blind with a burning rage. A corpse that decays in the dark, a poor past soul who didn’t survive.

These terrible thoughts run awry in your head. Torturing you with images of mangled monsters and other unknown that hunt at twilight. Tears of terror threaten to fall from your eyes, but you blink them back before Beomgyu can notice.

The smell of smoke burns through your throat. Taking in lungfuls has you coughing and struggling to catch your breath. Rotten rage is running right behind you. It grows closer, and closer, until all you can think about is the consequences of getting caught.

A tug to your wrist trips you up and tears you from your thoughts. Beomgyu pulls you up to run side by side. He holds your hand like you might leave him if he lets go.

“Are all humans this slow?” He speaks with exasperation. The subtle slip of unknown information leaves his lips before he can think twice.

“I’m going as fast as I can!” Your outburst of anger and panic is yelled at the top of your lungs. Your legs begin to burn, screaming at you to stop, but this chase will not stop until one of you has won. Either you outsmart the beast by hiding away, or die by being devoured. That thought is more than enough to keep you going.

Occasionally, Beomgyu steals a quick glance to his side. He can see the tears slipping past your fearless facade. Too embarrassed to admit you’re terrified to the arrogant boy and his relentless insults. Your hand is clasped tight in his. Beomgyu sees how you tremble and watches the tears that fall. A growing bit of guilt begins to settle in his stomach. He had been such a fool. Taking his time to toy with you when he knew nighttime was near. Although Beomgyu shares everything between his brothers, he’s not eager to share your sweet affections. He found you first so he believes he has some sort of entitlement over you. A pretty little plaything that is his to have. Beomgyu has always been reckless when it comes to expressing his emotions. The selfish sin makes him act stupid, and his fatal flaw might be the death of you.

As you run, fear follows after you. It’s hot on your heels and threatens to tear you apart. The beast is just behind you. You can feel its breath on the back of your neck. Your speed is no match for the monster. Beomgyu must be thinking the same thing, because he sweeps you away to somewhere safe.

His hands wrap around your hips roughly. No reason to be gentle in this time of distress. You’re shoved to the ground and dragged to a hidden hole in the dirt. Tree roots tangle around both your bodies. They provide protection and safety while the animal continues its hunt from up above. You can hear it sniffing at the surface, searching for where their fallen food ran off to. At the sound of it growing near, you cling closer to one another. Beomgyu pushes himself flush to the tree trunk behind him while pulling you closer to his chest. His heartbeat is erratic. Blood flowing like fear right through him. You can feel the rapid rhythm beating against your back.

His breathing is barely there. Too scared to suck in a single breath. You’re the exact opposite. Chest raising high with each heavy inhale. You’re beginning to hyperventilate. With your heart clenched tight in terror you’ve begun to lose your mind to emotion. A hand slowly slides over your mouth and for a second you freeze in fear. But it’s just Beomgyu trying to quiet your quick breathing. You turn to look at him. Your vision is blurred by the tears in your eyes but you can still make out the emotion on his face.

Beomgyu tries to hide his fear, he really does, but it slices at his skin until his heart begins to bleed out. His eyes sting with salty tears, they gather at his waterline and threaten to fall down his cherry cheeks. He’s an imitation of you, stuffing away the sadness and trying to hide his emotions. For the first time in a long time, a little bit of fear festers deep in his heart. He never meant to wander so far away from the others, but he got distracted by such a pretty little thing. He was so selfish, trying to steal you away before the others could find you, and now you both sit in an agonizing silence. Inches away from the Reaper’s wrath.

Truthfully, you don’t have any idea as to what type of animal is chasing you. You just know that it’s a bloodthirsty brute that’s hunting you down to hollow you out and eat your insides.

Fear is festering in your mind. Your imagination makes up memories of your worst fears. Putting together the pieces to create a bloodcurdling creature. You imagine the unknown monster to have fangs pierced with flesh and rotting red remains. It has bones that are broken free from its ribcage, resulting in the rattling sound it makes with every inhale. Each breath it takes feels closer than the last. They ring in your ears and you swear you can feel it breathing right over your shoulder.

Ruthless rage is torn from its throat as it lets out a growl in anguish; disappointed it let its prey fall too far. You can hear the sound of its claws digging into the wood just above your head. After its fit of anger, the monster runs off in what you can assume is a search for more meat. You can see its tail end as it trails off deeper into the dark forest. It has a fluffy tail that flicks in irritation. A slight hint as to what monster lurks on this lonely island. The only monster to ever make Beomgyu truly afraid.

You’re both too scared to make a move at first. You sit still and listen as the monster runs farther and farther off into the forest. After a few minutes, the only sound you can hear is the whistling wind and your heavy breathing.

But you both manage to bite down your fear and stand up from the dirt. Your head whips around to look at your surroundings, still paranoid that the monster may be somewhere near. With hands still held between you, Beomgyu leads you both down a path in the forest. The trail looks run down, years of footsteps trampling the flowers and grass that grows. You two take your time. You let your legs rest and catch your breath by walking slow. Your heartbeat is now in harmony with the rest of your body, no longer racing with adrenaline.

Each slow step you take feels heavier than the last. Fatigue is finally catching up to you. The amount of physical and emotional whiplash you’ve experienced today has deeply drained you. You’re too tired to talk or form a single thought, and slowly sleep begins to burden you. But before you can collapse and sleep through a thousand sunsets, a blinding light burns your eyes.

Four silhouettes stand in front of the sun. That sun being the little bit of light held in their hands. Torches are used to scare off the shadows and drive away the animosities. It also carves out the shadows of each boy’s features. Forever young and flawless faces are all that meets the eye. Their aura demands your attention and you wouldn’t dare to look away.

Are these the boys Beomgyu had mentioned earlier? If they are, will they welcome you with open arms or turn their backs on the outcast. A wave of unease rolls around in your stomach as the shortest boy steps forward. His big eyes are hidden behind a glare. Your heart burns hot under the heat of his gaze. Chest stinging and speech stolen, you start to shrink in on yourself. The boy breaks through the crowd and closes the distance. Now that there is nothing between you and his icy eyes, you wish you had been killed by the beast.

➜ ┊: (next) ᵎ ✰┊: (masterlist) ᵎ

taglist ; @intonvrlnd, @doitforbangchan, @lun4kazumii, @loumin908, @hearts4huening, @11thenightwemet11, @sthwaaberry, @lailols, @chuuswifereal, @junimoa03, @duckywuckypookiepie, @favoritegyu, @confusedabouteverythings, @soohashits, @marinette978

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boydepartment · 6 months

Text

nishimura riki boyfriend playlist °‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡

10 songs- 10 scenarios :) - masterlist - fluff & angst sorry

⋆˙⟡ apple cider- beabadoobee

જ⁀➴ you didn’t know he was an idol at all. he was touring your city and you knew of the group. you actually WANTED to go but fuck hybe and their ticketing amiright up top okay! 🖐️👏 anyways. he walked in a cafe where you were studying and immediately he felt drawn to you. being stupid riki didn’t know what to say so he approached you and asked you to help him order. you thought it was weird but who were you to turn down helping someone with pretty eyes and cool earrings?

⋆˙⟡ do you believe in magic- the lovin’ spoonful

જ⁀➴ riki can’t believe that he bagged you. obviously he has an ego he’s a teenage boy. but when HE bagged YOU. you agreed to go on a date with him without knowing he was an idol at first, oh he was bouncing off the walls. he wondered if magic really was real

⋆˙⟡ kiss me- sixpence none the richer

જ⁀➴ you and riki have a very uplifting relationship for the most part. obviously there’s ups and downs and issues, but whenever you’re both stressed just taking in eachother is enough to end the day. small kisses on the cheek, lips, hands, are very common between you two.

⋆˙⟡ i don’t smoke- mitski

જ⁀➴ rough patches. you’re both young (hopefully you’re BOTH young. (¬_¬) you AND him are YOUNG and you’re NOT over the legal drinking age in america while he’s 18) so there’s going to be flare ups in the relationship where he gets snappy and kinda mean. riki is only human and he apologizes right after, but he’s human and shit happens. you’re understanding and you have your moments too where you’re tired of life and snap at him aswell. the important thing is, you try for eachother and you try for yourselves.

⋆˙⟡ come and get your love- redbone

જ⁀➴ whenever you visit him in korea, it ends in a lot of late night time in the kitchen or living room. holding back laughter and tiptoeing everywhere is so funny to you both. trying to dance in the kitchen while accidentally falling over and making a HUGE crash has definitely happened.

⋆˙⟡ somewhere in neverland- all time low

જ⁀➴ you guys go out late a lot. when you vacation to him or he vacations to you on the rare occasion, you both kinda become nocturnal temporarily. when you guys walk around at night you don’t have to worry. riki doesn’t bother wearing a privacy mask and he can relax. he wishes everyday could be like this sometimes. riki would never tell you that though, that he wishes he could freeze time during your late night walks to the store.

⋆˙⟡ melty love- shazna

જ⁀➴ riki likes to spin you. that sounds so random and stupid but he thinks it’s funny. if you wear a nice outfit and are insecure about it he will grab your hand and spin you. hyping you up. it’s almost embarrassing how he hypes you up so it makes you feel better because hearing “OH YEAH!” “YEAH!” “OOOO SLAAAY” “OOOOO!!!” “💪💪💪” “YOU ATE!” from your boyfriend is way more embarrassing than the outfit you’re wearing.

⋆˙⟡ アイワナビー - stance punks

જ⁀➴ sometimes he gets upset he can’t be the boyfriend he wants to be. you have no issue with him being busy, or let alone in a different country more than half the time. it didn’t upset you or even offend you. but it offends riki, it upsets him. you’ll send him those cute relationship trends (on melancholy hill - gorillaz COUGH COUGH) and be like “omg let’s do this when you visit/i visit :) “ and as much as he loves the sentiment sometimes he gets upset he can’t do the trend with you NOW.

⋆˙⟡ cupid - fifty fifty

જ⁀➴ goofy coded bf. the second the relationship got to the point where he didn’t have to “act cool” anymore… dude this mf is WEEEEIRRD…. not in an unsettling way though. more in a “is that my shirt? are you wearing my shirt?” “yeah does it look good on me?” while being completely serious

⋆˙⟡ pretty boy - the neighborhood

જ⁀➴early mornings are both your favorites. especially when the other one is still asleep. you both WOULD NEVER admit this to the other one either but, you both have this habit where if you wake up first as cliche and stupid as it is, you’ll admire the other one. trying to memorize features. bumps, acne, smile and frown lines, sun kisses, etc.

⟡ extra- seasons - wave to earth

➴ depending how long you two are together, watching him grow and being his biggest cheerleader is one of your favorite things of just being around him in general. watching him grow as an idol and getting to be proud of him makes the hardships worth it to you.

i was gonna add another extra but i’m gatekeeping… that’s my song for him i am not sharing sorry 🙅‍♂️🙅‍♂️🙅‍♂️

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devilishgaysayshey · 8 months

Text

Peter Pan NSFW Alphabet

(gender inclusive)

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

He is quite sweet afterwards. He might joke a bit, but in a lighthearted manner. Expect a lot of kisses, cuddling and fondling.

If it was a quickie and he has to go soon, he'll still clean or heal you if necessary. And he'll kiss you and hug you tightly. Promising to come back as soon as possible to be with you again.

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

He is very pleased with his torso and eyebrows. But he likes pretty much everything about himself. Mans is cocky.

Pan is picky, so if he likes you, he really likes all of you. But he is particularly fond of your neck, waist and any erogenous zones you have.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

Loves seeing his partner covered in his cum. Pretty much anywhere really.

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)

Is a bit of a masochist, probably wouldn't admit that quickly out of pride.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

Definitely has experience.

F= Favorite position

He has many. Ankles up, (standing) missionary, (standing) doggy style, the flatiron, leapfrog and stand and deliver being his top 6.

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

He does sexually joke around to his partner, but he is more serious during it than you'd expect.

H= Hair (grooming habits)

Generally very tidy. Usually clean shaven if he knows partner prefers it.

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

He can be somewhat romantic, but he is usually very lustful during it.

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

He definitely does, although not as much when he has a partner.

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

(He definitely has a lot of them because mans gets bored easily)

-Praise (Loves to see and hear how good he is doing.)

-Ownership (Gets off to the idea of owning his so. And tends to give them hickeys or bitemarks for this very reason.)

-Cream🥧 (Self explanatory)

-Rigging (Likes to restrain his partner, might allow his partner to tie his wrists up, SOMETIMES.)

-S&M (Submissive & dom - powerplay)

-Sadism (is sadistic asf)

-Primal play (predator & prey. This is a “hunter” mentality, where the top (or dominant) is the predator and the submissive (or bottom) is the prey.)

-Brat play (gets excited by being challenged and loves to teach his disobedient partner a lesson)

-Innocence roleplay (CORRUPTION → They're so pure - you want to end that. There's nothing that excites you more. & TEACHING → Why not show them how to please you...and how to be pleasured in return?)

-Somnophilia (Loves to see his so this helpless in front of him. Very much likes to wake his partner up this "way" if he knows they'll enjoy it.)

-Mild degradation (Specifically likes to see his partner get embarrassed by the things he does to them.)

-Gagging (likes to put a ball-gag (especially one with an "extended" edge to it) on his so, especially when it embarrasses them)

-CNC (Likes knowing his partner is secretly enjoying how he dirties them while they pretend they don’t)

Probably more, oh well.

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

Almost anywhere, he doesn't mind getting it on against a tree, in a spring, as well as at any tree house on neverland. He is a big risk taker. But if he knows 100% for sure any lost boys will see he won't risk it.

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)

-Being challenged

-His partner exposing particularly more skin

-His partner being horny and needy

-His partner looking helpless

-His partner touching him suggestively while holding eye contact (particularly on his waist, arm and thigh.)

-His partner squirming

-His partner being flustered

N= No (turn offs or absolutely won’t do)

-Degrading him by embarrassing him or name calling. (NOT including being challenged by brat play) He'll actually get MAD.

-Any mention of his past

-Being penetrated himself

-Anything to do with scat

-DDLG, DDLB, DDLC

-Being ass grabbed or spanked

-Animal play

-Feet play

-Vore

-Unfaithful partner

-Sharing his partner

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

He is very skillful at giving, like i said, the boy has some experience. He also loves receiving. But prefers giving a bit more.

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

Usually quite rough but never fails to make it passionate. When he wants to tease he can go painfully slow. And in the last round he might slow things down a bit too when his partner is particularly ragged or pleads to him for it.

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

He is all for a quickie, but really prefers to take his sweet time when he can.

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

He is a risk taker for sure, being confident about everything he decides. He also gets very excited about trying new things.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

Physically, he could on FOREVER. However he does have his schemes and stuff to do. But when he gets the chance you'll have to tell him to stop if you've reached your limit, because he'll can, and will, continue for hours on end if you'll have him.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

Usually only ropes and gags. He finds anything else useless when you have him.

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

As already mentioned, he likes thrust very slow sometimes to see how needy and eager you get. And once you do he'll be incredibly rough. Likes to get you to beg for him.

On the other hand, he loves being visually teased. But he'll only accept being physically teased OCCASIONALLY. And when you do try to tease him during "it" he'll make short work of it, being eager for more. "Teasing are we? Very well.. Name your price." However he will definitely tease you back afterwards.

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

He's the loudest when he receives head or you give special attention to his torso. He mostly grunts during banging, but not remarkably loud. However he does like to talk dirty, and give praise.

W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort)

Likes to smear the cum on his dick over his partner's face and have them wipe it off and lick with their fingers.

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

He could have any size he wants with his magic, however his original size would be somewhat above average.

Y= Yearning (sexdrive level)

He gets in the mood very easily. And ideally, he'd have some every day.

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

He doesn't need to sleep, however he does enjoy sleeping with his partner whenever he can, so after you've fallen asleep he'll give in as well.

#ouat #peter pan #peter pan ouat #peter pan x male reader #peter pan x reader #peter pan x gn reader #peter pan pov #peter pan fanfic #peterpannsfwalphabet #peterpannsfw

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lipglossanon · 1 year

Text

The Soul’s Desire

═*.·:·.✦ ✧.·:·.*═*.·:·.✧ ༒ ✧.·:·.*═*.·:·.✦ ✧.·:·.*═

Alcoholic/Sweet Stepdad!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader For the first half: @neverland-navi asked for an angsty moment w/stepdad Leon where he hosts dinner and watches reader get hit on (I hope you like it!)

For the second half: anon requested camping sex with stepdad Leon (no specifics so I hope I met expectations 🤭)

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, stepcest, daddy kink, kissing, dirty talk, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, outdoor/public sexual situations

Not proofread ✍️ sorry if the ending is sudden, I made myself stop writing or this was going to get too crazy lmao

Title from Leto’s Headache by Chevelle

═*.·:·.✦ ✧.·:·.*═*.·:·.✧ ༒ ✧.·:·.*═*.·:·.✦ ✧.·:·.*═

For some reason, your stepdad is hosting all of his coworkers for dinner. When asked, he mumbled something about drawing the short straw at the office so you just guess it’s out of his hands at this point.

You volunteer to help him cook a simple pasta dinner with fresh homemade bread (something you’re quite proud of) that Leon pairs with a nice wine. He helps you out in the kitchen where you tease and poke him until he finally cracks a smile, joining in your conversation and laughter.

Once everything’s setup the way he likes, he kisses you, slow and sweet, thanking you for your help.

He tries to usher you off to your room, “You don’t have to hang out with us old men.”

You crowd into his personal space and wrap your arms around the nape of his neck, “But I like hanging out with you.”

He smiles softly down at you, rubbing a thumb underneath your eye, “I know, but I just don’t know how much you’re gonna enjoy us talking shop, honey.”

You shiver and push against him more, “I think it’s really hot to hear you talk about your job.”

His nostrils flare but he keeps his touch soft, “You do, huh?”

You hum and nod, eyes going a little hazy as you look at his mouth, “Mmmhmm.”

He kisses you roughly, hands going down to grab your ass to lift you up on the kitchen counter.

“Dad,” you gasp when he pulls back to trail kisses across your jaw.

“So good for me,” he groans, biting a mark into your neck.

The doorbell rings pulling Leon away from you. You pout and wind your fingers into his dress shirt.

“Don’t go yet,” you kiss his adam’s apple making him groan.

“I’ve got to,” he kisses you again, gentle and sweet.

He finally pulls away from you, eyes running down your body and back up, “If you wanna join us, you can, but please change.”

You gaze down at yourself, hard nipples showing through your thin shirt. Biting your lip, you tug the hem as the doorbell rings again.

“Go on to your room sweetheart,” Leon helps you down from the counter and pats your butt, “you can help me set the table when you’re done.”

“Okay,” you smile at him, pressing up in your tiptoes to kiss his cheek before running off to your room, wanting to change quickly.

Seeing that Leon was dressed in his usual work attire of pressed slacks and a button down, you throw on a cute top and skirt. Double checking the mirror to make sure it doesn’t look too scandalous and nodding to yourself once it seems guest appropriate, you leave your bedroom.

When you walk past the dining room, you see a few other men sitting at the table already, chatting with each other. You feel butterflies at having strangers in your home, but since these people work with Leon you try not to let your nerves get to you.

Leon smiles at you when you enter the kitchen.

“You look pretty.”

“Thanks,” you duck your head, feeling shy, missing the heated gaze Leon rakes down your body.

“Can you grab the silverware while I get the plates?”

You move over to where he’s standing and grab the silverware and napkins, following after him as he heads out and into the dining room.

“Hello, hello. What do we have here?”

“Is this the elusive daughter, Leon?”

“You never said how grown up she is!”

The men talk over one another as you follow behind Leon and set the forks and knives down at each place setting. You give a shy smile when Leon introduces you to everyone; he has a laid back grin but you can see the tightness around his eyes as you walk around the table.

Leon guides you back out of the dining room with a hand placed firmly on your back. He seems irritated as you both gather the dinner to place on the table, but you don’t get a chance to question him as he ducks out to grab a whiskey bottle from his home office.

You wait until he has glasses to go with it and then you both enter the dining room again; Leon hands out the glasses then passes the whiskey around, pouring a healthy glass full for himself, while you place the pasta and bread down in the center of the table. Once everyone’s situated, the dinner passes fairly smoothly.

You listen in to the conversation, but don’t quite know what they’re talking about only picking up things here and there from Leon complaining about work. The whiskey bottle is nearly empty now and the talk is also following suite.

“And Leon, how’re you not gonna let us know what a beautiful girl you got here all to yourself?”

You look wide eyed to your stepdad and see the corner of his eye tic as he smiles at the man, “Ah, she’s a homebody, what can I say?”

“Definitely got the body for it!” another man chortles and elbows the guy next to him as they all chuckle.

Leon gives you an apologetic smile as he claps the man on the back, “C’mon now, we’re in polite company.”

“We’re just yanking your chain,” the man grins, eyes drifting to the other end of the table where you’re sitting.

You’re thankful that Leon asked you to change as several pairs of eyes unsubtly check you out. Dropping your gaze, you pick at the food on your plate.

“Say, sweetheart, can I get a refill?”

You look up at Leon and he nods.

“No problem, sir.”

“Oh ho ho, where’d you get her Leon?” the man hands you his glass with a salacious smile, “need to find me one if you don’t wanna give’er up?”

Leon laughs along with the men as you leave, but you can tell it’s forced. You’re not gone too long, and when you come back in the room the men are all laughing at some joke but quickly quiet down to shoot appreciative looks your way.

“Thank you, dear,” the man sets his glass down and reaches out to run his hand down your arm, “you’re dad was telling us that you’re home so much, you aren’t dating anyone.”

You nod, “Yeah, I’m not really—“

“Now hold on a minute,” the coworker across from you speaks up, “who said you get to ask her out?”

“Me? Why I’m just—“

“And plus, she needs someone younger,” the coworker smirks over at you, “what’d ya say honey? I can take you out this weekend?”

You laugh nervously and take a step away from the table, “Thank you, but—“

“Now you two better leave it before Leon loses his cool,” a third man chimes in with a laugh drawing everyone’s attention to Leon.

He’s waving them off with a short laugh, “I know how these guys are. Say, why don’t we get another bottle going before calling it a night?”

All the men agree and Leon nods his head to the door, “Go grab us one, sweetheart.”

You give him a relieved smile as you leave the table, heading to his office to grab another bottle. As you pick it up, a pair of arms wraps around your waist. You jump, breathing in a quick breath and with it Leon’s cologne making you sag against him.

“M so sorry baby,” he murmurs, kissing your neck, “I didn’t think they’d be this bad.”

“S’okay,” you whisper, turning in his arms the whiskey bottle tucked between you, “they’re just drunk and dumb.”

“What does that make me?” he presses his lips to yours, whiskey coated tongue filling your mouth as you whimper.

“Say, baby,” he pulls back to take the bottle and set it aside, “what does that make me, hmmm?”

He presses you against the wall and kisses you deeper, hands coming up to lace your fingers together and press them to the wall on either side of your head.

“Just some dumb drunk trying to get my dick wet?” he groans into your mouth, thrusting his tongue past your lips over and over until spit drips down your chin.

You mewl and rock your hips into his, no room to answer with his tongue fucking into your mouth aggressively. Suddenly, the space in front of you is empty as Leon steps back.

“Daddy,” you whine, lips wet with spit, “why’d you stop?”

“Got to, honey,” he runs his hands through his hair, frustration etched in his body language, “I’d love to take you apart right now, but I have to worry about my coworkers.”

You sigh and step forward, wrapping your hands around Leon’s neck so you can tease the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

“You’re such a good, dad,” you kiss his jaw as he groans, “I’m gonna go to bed, if you don’t need me? Kinda tired of being hit on.”

Leon chuckles at that and kisses your cheek, “Okay, sweetheart. I’ll try not to keep them too late.”

You both leave his office and you watch as he slips back into the dining room, loud laughter and conversation flowing out before the door snicks shut. You make your way into your room and change into a faded tee and thin shorts before tiptoeing over into Leon’s bedroom. Once inside, you shut the door and make your way to the bed.

Climbing under the covers, you hum at the cool sheets touching your skin and just the smell of Leon enveloping your senses. Your clit thrums with want, but you push that aside in order to relax in bed. Hours later, you faintly hear the door open and shut before the sound of feet shuffle along the carpet.

“Fuck,” Leon whispers loudly when he bumps into his dresser to set his watch on the surface.

You can hear the shuffle of clothing as he undresses and then the bed dips with his weight.

“Oh, what a lovely s’prise,” he mumbles, hot palm dragging down your uncovered thigh, “mmm pretty baby, so sweet.”

You blearily open your eyes, sleep trying to pull you down again, “Daddy.”

“Fuck,” he whispers, shifting until he can use both hands to rub across your body, pet your sides, squeeze your breasts, “yeah, baby, ‘m here. My pretty girl, s’all mine huh?”

“Mmhmm,” you hum.

Eye fluttering shut with a sigh, you preen under his attention, letting him grope and squeeze whatever he can reach until you’re mewling with want.

“Yeah you’re all mine,” he growls, hands squeezing your ass roughly, “god, hated that they fucking stared at you, hit on you. You’re my sweet baby girl.”

“Leon,” you whine, hands going to his hair to tug him into a kiss, “didn’t want any of them.”

“No?”

You can taste the whiskey he’s been drinking all night making your pussy drip slick in your panties as you suck on his tongue.

“Mmm ‘m so lucky,” he pants, kissing you messily, “luckiest daddy in the world to have such a sweet daughter.”

You moan and tug his hair, “You’re the best daddy. Want you in my pussy pretty please.”

He makes a pained groan and rolls you on top of him, “Need me to fill you up?”

“Uh huh,” you rock down on the bulge underneath your cunt, “need it so bad.”

“Baby,” he groans as you keep grinding against his half hard cock, “don’t know if I, fuck— I’ve been drinking a lot, don’t know if I can cum for awhile.”

You whimper and dig your nails in his pecs, “Daddy, I still want your cock. Want you to stretch out my little pussy.”

“God,” his head falls back onto the bed with a groan, “me too, fuck, okay c’mon honey put it in. I wanna watch.”

You quickly pull off your shirt, helping Leon do the same with a giggle, before reaching down and tugging his underwear completely off. Moaning, you stroke his cock watching as it stiffens in your hand. You raise up and straddle his waist.

You go to pull your panties off and he stops you, “Leave’em on.”

Whining, you pull them to the side and let his fat tip smack against your pussy lips, slick dripping down his dick.

“C’mon be a good girl for me and put it in,” he rubs his hands down your thighs.

“Dad,” you mewl, pushing the head into your dripping hole and slowly ease yourself down his thick cock.

You both watch as inch by inch, your pussy greedily sucks his cock into your wet heat. Once he bottoms out and you can sit on his lap, you moan at feeling so full, so spread open.

“Daddy,” you scratch your nails at his twitching abs, “s’full.”

“I know,” he soothes, palms rubbing across the bulge in your lower belly, “m so deep in that little pussy huh pretty girl.”

You rock forward with a keening moan, grinding his leaking tip against your cervix making sparks of pleasure shoot through your cunt.

“Yeah I am,” he grunts, dark eyes watching you hungrily, “pretty cunt made to take this fat dick.”

“Yes,” you whimper, eyes rolling back as Leon grabs your hips and makes you grind against his cock, “dad, it’s good.”

“Good, want my girl to know what it feels like to get dicked deep in her cute little pussy,” he growls, hands squeezing your hips so hard they’ll bruise, “love filling up your tight wet cunt.”

“Daddy!” you gasp out, pussy clenching down on his cock at how he’s talking to you, “you’re being dirty.”

“Am I?” he grins teasingly, “is it getting you wet, baby? It sure feels like it. That pussy loves the way I’m talking about her. She’s squeezing me so tight.”

Your clit throbs as he keeps you grinding in place on his cock, not letting you bounce and not thrusting up into you making you a little wild for it.

“Daddy, want it, want you,” you moan.

“Fuck me,” he groans, “want daddy to rail your little cunt? Breed your cute pussy til it’s full?”

“Yes, yes yes,” you try to rock your hips but Leon’s grip keeps you stationary making your pussy walls flutter and pulse around his dick.

“Gonna have to just stay like this then,” he laughs, “I drank too much, sweet girl, gonna take a while to cum.”

You shudder, breath coming out shakily, “Daddy, I need t’cum.”

“Aww,” his hands finally move away from your hips, skin indented from his fingers, to skim up your ribs and grab your breasts, “can you cum from riding my cock, sweetheart? No touching that cute clit.”

Your hips are moving as you nod quickly, hands bracing against his chest, “Yes, yes, thank you daddy, feels so good.”

You make sure to rub his tip against your g-spot every time you roll your hips down, thighs trembling as his cock kisses your cervix with every bounce, pussy gliding down with ease. It feels like forever that you just ride Leon, swiveling your hips just right so he’s rubbing that spongy spot in your cunt that has you moaning.

“Look at my sweet girl,” he smiles widely, crows feet wrinkling at the corners, “god, love you so much, honey.”

Your hips stutter as you moan, “Love you too, daddy. Love you so much.”

His hips thrust up, meeting you halfway making you cry out.

“Think I’m ready to fuck you nice and deep,” he laughs up at you, pulling you down to roll you onto your back, cock sliding back into you, “breed this pussy like she needs.”

“Leon!” you gasp out as his dick bullies back into your cunt repeatedly.

Your pussy squelches loudly as his hips picks up speed, pistoning into your sopping wet hole, pelvis grinding down on your clit.

“Couldn’t wait,” he kisses you, still tasting of alcohol making you clench down on him, “was gonna let you cum that way, but I need you too much sweetheart.”

“Dad, please,” you scratch at his shoulders, “wanna cum.”

“I’ve got you baby,” he kisses your cheek, slipping a hand between your bodies to rub firmly at your slippery clit.

You choke out a whine and wrap your legs around his waist, hips pressing down into his thrusts. Leon groans and kisses you, tongue lapping and sucking at your own. A few more rough passes of his fingers over your sensitive bud and your pussy clamps down on his cock as you climax. He keeps softly rubbing at your clit as he fucks deeper into your pussy.

“That’s it, such a good girl,” he whispers against your lips, “gonna make me cum, sweetheart. Fuck, that’s it, milk me, help daddy cum in your hot little pussy.”

A high pitched moan leaves your throat, toes curling as Leon stretches your orgasm out until your thighs are shaking. He thrusts a few more times before burying his cock deep into your fluttering walls and spilling his hot cum. Slowly, he moves his hand away from your clit to rub your side. He kisses you softly, letting you both come down from your orgasms into the sleepy afterglow.

He pulls out of your cunt with a low groan, laying down next to you, “So good to me, don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You giggle and stroke his stubbled jaw, “You’re so cute.”

Smiling, he grabs your hand and kisses the inside of your wrist, “Think you’re the cute one, baby.”

He laces your fingers together and pulls you into his chest, “Can’t believe I have work in a few hours.”

“Call in sick,” you sleepily mumble against his skin.

He laughs and rubs his hands down your back, “Mmm wish I could. Everyone else will be there even though we all got drunk tonight.”

You hum in reply, but drift off to sleep with Leon’s warm hands petting you.

Hours later, Leon’s alarm wakes you up, but he shushes you back to sleep. The next time you’re waking up it’s past eight and the sun is out. Yawning, you roll over and check your phone. You feel a pang of sympathy for Leon since he definitely went to work hung over and exhausted. You shoot him a quick text and get up to start the day.

It passes quickly for you and before long you hear the sound of keys in the door. Smiling to yourself, you get up from the couch to meet Leon in the hallway.

“Hi,” you step up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, “have a good day?”

“Could’ve been better,” he murmurs, pressing you against the wall and kissing you deeply, “how was yours?”

“Could’ve been better,” you giggle as he presses kisses along your neck.

“Poor thing,” he coos.

He steps away with a sigh before going any further, looking apologetic, “I have something to ask you, and you can say no okay?”

Frowning at him, you drag out your reply, “Oookay?”

“I know it’s last minute, but someone had the bright idea to do a family retreat this weekend. Like a camping trip,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “we’d leave tomorrow morning and stay until Monday.”

You shrug, “I’m fine with that.”

“Are you sure, honey? It’s going to be hot and bug infested, not to mention those jackoffs from work.”

You laugh, “I’m sure, besides everyone else will be busy with their families, too right? It’ll be fun! Like a mini vacation.”

Sighing again, Leon gives you a small grin, “Yeah, maybe so.”

═*.·:·.✧ ༒ ✧.·:·.*═*

Leon is pulling the cooler from the trunk as you coat yourself in bug spray.

“Okay maybe the fun starts once we get the tent setup,” you concede with a small cough from using the spray.

He snorts a laugh at you, but is nice enough to not say anything. Aside from getting lost on the drive up here, almost hitting a deer, then actually hitting a hubcap in the middle of the road, and lastly seeing someone get rear ended in the lane next to you, your nerves are a little shot—and this place isn’t helping with it looking like something out of Friday the 13th.

Leon rubs your arm, “Okay?”

You smile up at him, “Yeah, just taking it in.”

A smile spreads across his face, “You’re something else. C’mon, we just follow this trail to the camp they setup. They have a small itinerary for us today. Think it’s just some kinda hike near the lake.”

“That sounds nice,” you fall into step with him as the trail is wide enough to walk side by side.

You both take in the scenery and lush foliage, breathing in the clean air of dirt and trees. Before too long, you can see people setting up tents as well as prepping several picnic tables with food.

Leon guides you over to one of the picnic tables. He introduces you to a few other people in the company as he grabs the welcome packet.

“You two can set up anywhere in the perimeter,” one woman points to the map on the front of packet, “anything outside that might land you a fine.”

“Thanks, Martha,” Leon nods, “alright, you pick us out a spot, sweetheart.”

You take the map from his hands and point to a little copse of trees, “This seems like it would be nice. Shady, ya know?”

His lips quirk up but he just nods, eyes sparkling, “Shady, huh. Lead the way then.”

You follow the rather crude map until you’re both far enough away that you can only hear bird song.

“Sure you didn’t pick this place out for anything other than shade?” Leon murmurs in your ear, squeezing your ass, “seems awful far from everyone.”

You gasp and twist to face him, “Dad!”

He presses you against the rough bark of the tree behind you and kisses you, slow and deep. You drop the map on the ground to wind your hands through his hair, sighing into his languid kisses.

You tug him closer, rocking your hips up against his, kissing even more sloppily as you feel yourself getting wet.

“You feeling needy, honey?” Leon whispers hotly in your ear, fingers dipping below the leg of your shorts, “fuck, let me finger that pretty pussy.”

“Dad, please,” you whimper parting your thighs, leaning against the tree for better balance.

His fingers slip under the band of your panties and stroke across your slick pussy lips to come up and circle your clit.

“So naughty, letting me play with you like this,” he nips your earlobe, “daddy’s dirty little girl.”

You whine and part your legs further, “Please, daddy!”

“Hush,” he kisses your neck, sliding his middle and ring finger into your dripping hole, “she’s so wet for me, sweetheart. Doesn’t feel like it’s gonna take long.”

He laughs softly as his fingers easily find and rub against your g-spot as his thumb circles your slippery clit. You’re gasping and moaning, thighs shaking with the effort of keeping yourself open and on two feet.

“Daddy, daddy, g’nna cum,” you mewl, rocking down into his fingers as they start to pump in and out of your fluttering pussy walls.

“Then cum for me, let daddy make you feel good,” he kisses you, tongue licking into your mouth to swallow up your moans.

One last rubbing grind to your clit has you cumming all around his fingers, slick dripping down his wrist to land on the forest floor. He slowly pulls his hand away, licking the slick off of his fingers with a groan.

“Always taste so good.”

“Want me to suck you off?” you sway into him, legs shaky from your orgasm.

He kisses the top of your head and wipes his hand off on his pants, “We’ll save it for later, baby. Really need to put this tent up before we go on that hike.”

You sigh and nuzzle into his neck, “If you say so.”

He pets your sides for a moment before pushing you to stand up straight, “If you want, I’ll let you read out the directions and I’ll put up the tent.”

“Sounds good to me,” you giggle, smacking a kiss to his cheek.

Luckily, Leon has had some experience with camping so your little area is setup in next to no time. Which works out perfectly since someone sent their kid to fetch you two for the hike about to start.

Leon stows your sleeping bags and backpacks into the tent then walks next to you back up to the main campsite. After a quick safety spiel from the forestry guide, the whole group is off. Leon gets roped into a conversation with a man you recognize from the dinner party. You notice his wife? Girlfriend? next to him and so strike up your own small talk with her.

She happens to be his girlfriend and is nice to talk with, if a little distant. Before you get a chance to even ask her name, she’s being pulled away by Leon’s coworker as he jogs to catch up with some other man.

“Then there were two,” Leon nudges your arm with a wink.

Looking around you notice that you and he are the last in line, a little ways away from everyone as they chat and trample down the path following the guide.

The path loops down and around the edge of the woods before it opens up next to a lake. The guide stops for a minute and talks about the species native to the area and then proceeds forward. Leon tugs your arm and you two hang back together and watch as the rest of the crowd disappears down the trail.

He guides your back to press up against the tree overlooking the lake.

“Shh, shh,” Leon’s mouth whispers against your ear, “let me kiss that pretty pussy, sweet girl.”

Nodding, you wrap both hands over your mouth to stop any noises. Leon nips your ear and drops to his knees, hands coming up to undo the button of your shorts.

“What’s gotten into you?” you giggle.

He shrugs, “Just want you so much, baby.”

He tugs your shorts down to your knees leaving your panties on. Groaning, he pushes his face against your cunt, licking you through your underwear. In no time, your panties are soaked with his spit and you’re slick, your eyes fluttering shut as he laps at your clit through the cloth.

“Gonna make you cum just like this,” he mouths at the outline of your pussy lips, “get my pretty girl all messy.”

A moan is muffled by your hands, but you still buck your hips towards his mouth. His dilated eyes watch you hungrily as he goes back to licking and sucking your panty clad pussy. Leaving one hand covering your mouth, you let the other reach down to tangle in his hair.

Groaning, he licks harder and sucks your clit. You grind your pussy against his face as his hands come up to grip your hips, helping you hump against his mouth.

He looks gorgeous, pupils blown and hair messy as he lathes his tongue against your pussy. Your eyes drag down his body and you whimper to see the hard outline of his cock.

You pull your hand away just far enough to whisper, “Gonna cum, gonna cum, dad, please,” before clamping it back over your mouth so you won’t make any more noise.

Leon reaches up and grabs the hem of your panties, pulling them taut so your clit and pussy lips rub harder against the fabric. He laps at the outline of your sensitive bud and roughly sucks it into his mouth as best he can. He yanks your panties up again and it grinds your clit against his tongue just right making you cum, gushing slick into your underwear and all down your thighs.

When Leon finally pulls away, you’re so dizzy that he has to hold you up. He carefully pulls your shorts back up and buttons them, then adjusts his own hard on so it’s not noticeable.

“Better catch up before someone comes looking,“ he presses a kiss to your cheek as your dazed eyes just stare up at him.

“‘Kay,” you murmur, letting him guide you back out to the path that leads back into camp.

The rest of the afternoon passes by smoothly, just polite conversation with Leon’s coworkers and their families. When the sun sets and everyone decides to roast marshmallows, you watch as Leon chats with some guy on the other side of the fire pit.

You really take in his strong jaw and neck as he turns to the side to keep talking. Biting your lip, your gaze washes over his broad shoulders and thick arms down to his toned waist and strong thighs. You squeeze your own thighs together as you stare at his hands, watching as his fingers drum against his lap.

When you finally look up, you can see Leon looking straight back at you. You give him a little shrug and a flirty smile. You watch as he finishes up the conversation with the other guy and make his way over to you.

“You tired, sweetheart? We can head back to the tent,” his eyes are dark.

“Yeah,” you murmur, raising your hand for him to take and pull you to your feet.

A few folks call out goodnight with you and Leon replying as you walk off. Leon only keeps a hand on your upper back as you make the long trek over to your tent. But once inside, he’s pressing you down onto the downy sleeping back and kissing you senseless.

You whine and slip your clothes off, grabbing his hand to press it against your slick pussy.

“Feel how wet I am, daddy?”

He groans, head falling against your shoulder as his fingers rub against your pussy lips before pinching your clit.

“You’re soaked,” he bites your neck, “fuck. You been like this all night?”

“All afternoon,” you whisper, “since you made me cum at the lake.”

“Fuck,” he kisses you one last time and then shoves you further up the sleeping back to settle between your legs.

“Daddy,” you mewl trying hard to keep your voice down, hands tangled in his thick hair as he noses along your cunt kissing your clit, “they’re gonna hear us.”

He grins at you, eyes warm in the low light, “Then better be quiet, honey.”

You moan spreading your thighs even wider; he chuckles at you and licks a long wet stripe along your pussy, broad tongue parting your puffy lips, slick dripping all over his sleeping bag.

“Gonna eat you out so good, baby,” he groans kissing the hood of your clit “been wanting to bury my face in your hot little cunt all day.”

“Dad,” you whine, hips arching into his mouth, “this is so bad,” but you don’t do anything to stop him as he pushes his face further into your soaked pussy.

The excitement of getting caught ramps up your arousal making you hump your stepdad’s face harder, dragging slick all over his mouth.

His nose bumps your clit making your thighs clamp around his head, stopping him from being able to pull away. He groans, eyes heatedly staring up the line of your body as his tongues fucks into your drippy hole.

You tug and pull his hair when he licks into your cunt, rubbing his face further into your pussy lips to spread you open for his mouth. His big hands wrap around the outside of your thighs and he squeezes tightly, urging you to thrust down onto his tongue.

“So good,” you moan, head tipped back as your chest arches outward, hips rolling down into his plush mouth, “I’ve got the best daddy in the whole world.”

He growls into your cunt making your thighs spasm, pussy walls clenching down on his slippery tongue. Your eyes roll back, hips rocking down quicker as Leon greedily eats you out. His tongue slips out of your hole with a dirty, wet noise; his hands push your thighs open so he can raise his head.

“My perfect girl, wanna fuck you so loud all of’em know not to even look at you,” he sucks on your clit, spit dripping down your pussy lips.

“Dad,” you sigh, rocking up into his plush mouth, “‘m all yours, love you so much.”

He groans, pulling away from your pussy to crawl up your body, kissing you hotly.

“Let’s get in the sleeping bag,” he murmurs, “be a little less noisy.”

“Mmm okay,” you sigh, wiggling to pull the sleeping bag up underneath you.

Leon helps you, little laughs escaping as you both struggle with the slippery material until you’re pressed under Leon’s heavy weight as he zips up the side.

“Daddy,” you moan, “this is so hot.”

“Yeah?” he groans, kissing you again, “like that daddy’s got you trapped all nice and snug for him to fill your cute cunt?”

“Yes,” you whine, feeling Leon shift his boxers down.

When you relax against the ground of the tent, Leon’s hard cock nudges against your pudgy clit making you dig your nails into his shoulders.

“Oh god,” you pant, spreading your legs the meager distance you can in the constraints of the sleeping bag.

“Fuck,” Leon’s eyes are dark as they look down at you.

He rocks his hips down, dragging the fat tip through your slick until he’s nudging against your hole.

“Want it, daddy,” your nails dig further into his muscled shoulders, “fill me up, please.”

He kisses you to muffle the sounds you both make as he presses his dripping cock into your clenching pussy.

He finally bottoms out, a painfully delicious stretch that has your pussy milking his cock already.

“Perfect,” his hips stutter forward to bury himself even deeper inside your wet heat, “perfect girl.”

“Dad, you’re so big,” your eyes flutter shut as his pelvis grinds against your clit.

“God don’t say that, I’ll cum way too soon,” he laughs, kissing your cheek, “got me acting like a teenager again.”

“Mmm that’s not a bad thing,” you cheekily smile up at him, “just means we can go again, right?”

He groans kissing you hard, tongue slipping into your mouth. As you’re making out, you rock your hips up only for Leon to sink more of his weight down on you, pressing you into the sleeping bag making you mewl.

“Can’t move too much,” he whispers against your ear, “too noisy, gonna have to let me take my time, pretty girl.”

“Please, Leon,” you whine, trying to move your hips but unable to, making you pulse around his dick, “need it.”

He laughs sweetly, “I do too. You can’t even imagine how hard it is just to sit here and let your pretty pussy cockwarm me.

Fuck,” he grunts grinding down against you, “gripping me so tight, like you need me to cum in you.”

“I do,” you whimper, nails scratching at his back, “need you to cum, daddy.”

“So sweet to me,” he kisses your neck softly, “might stay like this all night. Just stretch out your little pussy and nothing else.”

You bite his shoulder to muffle the loud moan in your throat. His cock kicks and throbs in your pussy as he rocks softly in and out.

“God, don’t know if I could handle that,” he groans, “wanna cum in you too much.”

“Yes, yes please,” you babble against the skin of his shoulder, kissing the bite mark, “want you so bad, daddy.”

“I know,” he coos, nipping at your neck, “you let daddy be so dirty with you today, honey. It’s the least I can do, right?”

“Uh huh,” you drool against him as he grinds and rocks harder into your squelching pussy.

“Did you like getting fingered by daddy?” he sucks a bruise lower on your neck, “I would’ve kept going even if someone walked up.”

Your legs kick out as he covers your palm to muffle your whining.

“You like that huh,” he grins, “yeah and when I was eating your cute pussy by the lake, anyone could see what I was doing,” his voice drops to a low whisper, “they could all see I was eating my daughter’s wet little cunt.”

Your eyes rolls back in your head as his pelvis rubs against your clit just right, pussy clamping down on Leon as you cum around his cock.

“Baby,” he groans, palm pressing harder onto your mouth to shield the sounds you’re making.

You slump bonelessly into the downy sleeping bag, muscles limp from your orgasm. Leon’s cock throbs in your pussy making you whine.

“S’good, daddy,” you smile at him, “wanna stay like this all night.”

“Fuck,” he moans, pressing his face into your neck, “me too, baby.”

A loud shuffling in the distance makes you both pause. Even though the footsteps tread closer and closer, Leon keeps rocking his hips against you, cock slipping in and out of your soaked hole making you clench and pulse around him.

You whine and he kisses you heatedly, groaning into your mouth as he licks past your lips. Eyes rolling back as he softly fucks you, you feel another orgasm wash over your body. Scratching at his back, Leon’s weight keeps you pinned down so you can’t really thrash around like you want.

Leon’s gaze is hazy when he pulls back. You both hear several more sets of footsteps in the underbrush as well as people softly talking.

“God if they only knew I was fucking your pretty pussy.”

You whine behind his palm, tongue lapping at the salty skin.

“They’d think I’m so kind of pervert, fucking my daughters cute little cunt and liking it,” he grins as he feels your pussy squeeze on his dick, “you like this dirty old man dicking you down, honey?”

Your nails have to be drawing blood from how hard you’re clawing at Leon’s shoulders. Rocking your hips into his, you try your best to make him feel as out of control as you do.

You’re moaning his name behind his hand but try to keep your voice down, still hyper aware of the people walking out past your tent. Nothing changes so you feel like you’re safe enough to whimper up at him, tears slipping from your eyes from the pleasure Leon is wringing out of your body.

“I know,” he coos in your ear, “feels so good. I’m gonna fill you up in front of all these people.”

Your cunt pulses and throbs around his cock, fluttering walls sucking him in deeper into your hole. Leon continues to rut into your sopping wet pussy, thrusts getting harder and harder.

The people outside are walking all around your area talking quietly, totally oblivious to your dad fucking you stupid inside this flimsy tent.

“Ready? Huh? You ready for daddy to fill this warm wet pussy full of cum? Breed your hot cunt in front of complete strangers?” his tongue dips into your ear making you squeal into his palm, “wanna make me a real daddy?”

You’re going to cum again, just from Leon talking like that as he fucks your pussy. He raises his head to look into your eyes.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs, voice low and smoky, “good girl, letting me knock you up. C’mon, cum all over me again so I can cream your pussy.”

Mewling low in your throat, you feel your orgasm tightening in your lower belly. Leon snaps his hips quicker into your clenching heat. The voices and footsteps are faint now, everyone having walked past your tent headed to wherever.

Leon pushes the top of the sleeping bag off with a grunt and lets go of your mouth. He grabs your legs and press them up to your chest. He rocks his hips deep into your cunt.

“Just keep quiet, I’m almost finished,” he grins down at you playfully, “don’t know if they can hear you or not, honey.”

You whine freely, hands scratching against Leon’s pecs, “Dad, you’re gonna make me cum again.”

“Am I? Poor thing,” he starts to rub and pinch your nipples, “daddy hasn’t gotten to cum once today, what number is this for you?”

Eyes slipping shut as one of his hands slips down to your pussy to tease your clit, you moan softly, “I can’t r-remember. Daddy, please.”

“Okay, okay,” he soothes, “cum for me, honey.”

His fingers rub against your clit more firmly as he grinds deeper into your cunt. Your hands wildly move up to yank him into a sloppy kiss, muffling the wailing cry that leaves your throat as you climax. Stars dance behind your eyelids and your toes curl in on themselves while your orgasm buzzes through your body.

Leon groans into the kiss, spit dripping from your mouths as he buries his cock into your pussy and stilling. Hot, sticky cum spurts from his fat tip, filling your pussy so full that it drips around his throbbing dick.

You make out the entire time he cums inside you, moans and sighs traded between kiss swollen lips until his soft cock finally slips out of your drippy cunt.

“Perfect, pretty baby,” he pulls away, gently laying your legs flat.

He flops down tiredly next to you on the sleeping bag.

“You wore me out,” he teases, poking your side.

“Dad,” you whine, pushing his hand away, “you started it.”

“Nah, it was definitely you,” he tickles your side making you giggle and move away only to be yanked back with Leon’s arm around your waist.

He kisses you sweetly all over your face before pressing a fleeting kiss to your lips.

“Guess we should get some shut eye before tomorrow dawns bright and early.”

You groan, “Please not too bright or early.”

“No promises,” he chuckles into your hair as he drops a kiss on your head, “but I’ll do my best to wake you up in a nice way.”

“Good,” you yawn, “I’m holding you to that.”

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