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#once again very sorry for the delay!
patrice-bergerons · 2 years
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Omg I soo agree with u on most points! (Esp the q whump and the bond is a bastard one. There have been fics I've read 20k of and dropped because I was like this bond is entirely too stable. He needs to messier and sader. As for q whump, yeah like. Sometimes it just meanders into stereotypes and suddenly q is helpless like... ugh. fanon in general has a tendency to neatly relagate Q to the brains and bond to the brawn, in a manner of speaking and it's lowkey annoying.)
Other than that, I agree with sticking to a few authors fr.
Personally tho... I like fics where bond is miserable hffjjd. I'm here to watch him suffer but not in the like misery porn spectre way if that makes sense. Like if something happens (ahem ahem DRILLS TO THE SKULL AHEM.) then it needs to have a consequence. Canon already has too much misery porn with 0 consequences and I'm tired of it. I want to see the toll these movies take on him! He's messed up! I like fics that address his issues like his alcohol dependence and ofc... his relationship with M. She had such an interesting relationship and dynamic with him and I'm always dying to see more of it. In general, more of his life outside of his whirlwind romance, or lack thereof.
I'm a hypocrite tho, I'll read pretty anything provide it's like. Not Vesper hating. I despise vesper hate she's perfect and if she did something wrong no she didn't.
Jokes aside I hate 00q fics where vesper, or mostly as it happens, Madeline is suddenly a terrible person for no reason other than the author wanted 00q togther. That doesn't need to happen relationships can just. Not work out it's fine. Madeline doesn't need to be evil and working for spectre.
I do like those time travel aus where someone meets the past versions of their friends/partner a lot tho. I want nttd!q to meet cr!bond and go oh wow I can't believe he was worse. How did M deal with him. I should write this actually.
- vl (I'm singing my asks if u don't mind.)
Anon you made SO MANY excellent points in one ask, I wanted to give you the response it deserves and then...work got massively in the way rip. So here we are a week later, with my sincerest apologies.
You are spot on with all of your points. I also find it extremely annoying when fanon relagates Q to the brains and Bond to the brawn because they are both so much more than those neat stereotypes - hell, them figuring this out is a whole Skyfall subplot.
Which is to say, absolutely yes to a Bond who is intelligent and also miserable, because so much of his glamourous lifestyle of sex and fast cars and martinis seems like a facade. Like just because he is not wearing his pain on his sleeve doesn't mean it's not there you know? (Also- Bond and gender performance can make for a whole essay on its own). Here it must also be noted your "bond is entirely too stable" line took me out - hard same though, I know exactly what you mean!
Also HARD SAME re actions needing to have consequences. This, I think, is precisely what sets CR-Skyfall apart from Spectre, and even NTTD, because when Vesper dies or M's orders gets Bond shot, or even when Le Chiffre tortures Bond, we see what it does to him and we go on that journey with him through the pain and come out some place new. Which is entirely missing in Spectre, whether physically with the skull drills or - my God - emotionally for what Blofeld being Bond's foster brother means. Argh!
It also makes me so happy to hear you always want more M & Bond content because that is also the relationship that makes me go absolutely feral and I love it when other people are there for it too. 💖
Lastly yes!!! absolutely yes! re fics that unnecessarily hate on Vesper or Madeleine - although let's face it, Vesper gets more of a free pass because she doesn't commit the unforgivable crime of not dying. when you say "relationships can just. Not work out it's fine" that's it, i could not put it better.
As for a time travel au where nttd!q meets cr!bond both the sheer angst AND crack potential is off the charts - you should absolutely write it!
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redrook · 1 month
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thinking about the time I was 5 and a teacher explained what Heaven was to me for the first time (all the best people are there, recess is forever, and I could eat as much chocolate as I wanted) and I'm like ma'am sign me the FUCK up (roughly speaking) and then she had me pray to Jesus to ask to become Xtian
And I was SO absolutely excited, because I thought I'd get immediately beamed up into Heaven, Star Trek style. Everyone else in my class may have been excited about recess coming up, but they were SUCKERS because I was about to get FOREVER recess, and INFINITE chocolate
And I'm like man what's wrong with people that everyone doesn't do this. And my teacher was like you are so smart and that's so true and I'm like yeah I AM so smart and that IS so true
cut to around an hour later, and I'm now angry, confused, and hurt, that Jesus was taking so long to beam me up to Heaven and I was expected to go to REGULAR, FINITE, TEMPORARY recess. A little delay, I could understand. The man was probably very busy. But once it got to a whole hour, that was just unreasonable.
So I go and ask the teacher what went wrong, and why Jesus was dragging his feet on this whole taking me to Heaven thing, and she was like oh. I'm sorry. You only go to Heaven when you're dead.
And I asked her something along the lines of, so the only people who know about Heaven are dead people. and we can't talk to dead people
And she uncomfortably said, Yes.
And I just scowled at her and walked away.
She never tried to talk to me about Jesus or Heaven ever again, but I hope the next time she wanted to convert a five year old, she thought about me scowling up at her in my thick rimmed glasses asking what exactly the holdup was for the Good Lord to just fucking kill me already lmao
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fayes-fics · 5 months
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Eden
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
Summary: Seeing you with other Bridgerton offspring has an interesting effect on your new husband...
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I couldn't resist using a Season 3 gif cos hello.
Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, breeding kink, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, vaginal sex, creampie, ie filthy babymaking. Also, the smut is bookended by fluff; yeah, that probably needs a warning, lol.
Word Count: 4.2k
Authors Note: This is a very belated request fill for @victoriaholland (HERE) and Anon (HERE) about Benedict with a touch of baby fever. I decided to combine the asks as I saw a way to weave them together. Sorry for the delay, but well at least babymaking seems appropriate for spring hehe. Thank you to @colettebronte for being an awesome beta, as always. Err, Enjoy! <3
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Daphne’s latest child is beautiful; you delight in his joy as he bounces on your lap, learning the strength of his sweetly chubby legs, little fists wrapped tight around your fingers. 
Looking up, you catch your husband's eye from afar, his stare intense across the gardens of Bridgerton House as you sit under a tented shelter upon a picnic blanket. The rest of the family are scattered around, playing games or chatting, but you are quite content minding the little one while his nanny takes a few moments to eat lunch.
“Is everything alright, my love?” You inquire as Benedict draws closer. 
“Yes… I….” He seems a little flustered. 
“Are you sure?” 
You pull a funny face for the infant, who breaks out into the most adorable infectious giggles that has you grinning from ear to ear and hugging him into your body, swaying with him. 
“Are you alright? Minding the child?” He checks, his voice a touch odd.
“Oh yes. We are more than happy, are we not, my little prince?” You talk in a vaguely silly baby-talk voice, addressing the child in your arms as much as Benedict. 
Again, the child peals with delighted noises and spit bubbles enthusiastically, looking up at Benedict eagerly as much as you do.
“Well, that is wonderful news,” he blusters, and you could swear he is out of sorts, breathless almost. “I shall… leave you to it,” he adds, giving you a bow and then withdrawing as the little one wiggles out of your arms.
“Ignore your Uncle Benedict; he is being a silly billy,” you whisper conspiratorially once the man in question is out of earshot.
The response is babbled nonsense as the child bashes one wooden brick against another.
“I quite agree,” you state sagely before breaking into a goofy grin.
——
“Please?” Hyacinth wheedles.
“No, Hy,” you sigh without even looking up.
“Ugh, you are no fun!” she scowls, crossing her arms defiantly.
“What is all this?” Anthony clips as he strides into the drawing room, Benedict on his heels, as Hyacinth flounces dramatically across the room. 
“Your little sister is angry at me because I will not allow her to drink the punch; it has brandy in it,” you explain cooly.
“Quite right, too!” Anthony chimes as Hyacinth rolls her eyes.
“Listen to y/n, Hyacinth, and do as she says,” Anthony lectures, and you feel grateful for his support, effectively neutering her rebellion. “Despite a temporary lapse of judgment when choosing a spouse, she is otherwise one of the most sensible people in this family.”
“Hey…!” Benedict protests.
“Please…” Anthony withers, twisting towards him. “Brother, if there is one thing us Bridgerton men know how to do, ‘tis to marry a woman entirely too good for us. And well done on that, by the way.”
You smirk at Anthony’s hilarious way of putting his brother - your husband - in his place, catching Kate’s eye with a wink as she enters the room carrying her baby. 
“Y/n, come and meet the future Viscount; he’s awake at last,” she calls to you. 
You are immediately on your feet and grinning, taking the tiny bundle from her arms and cooing at the sweet little boy. The baby opens his enormous brown eyes and observes you for a second before breaking into a one-toothed grin and happily waving his fists at you.
“Oh, he really likes you!” Kate enthuses, delighted.
“As I do you, little one,” you smile, leaning over to kiss his forehead.
You look up to see Benedict with that same look on his face as earlier. A tempest, almost an energy over his being. It’s almost as if he is… aroused?! Which is most odd.
As you hand the baby back to Kate, giving him one final kiss, Benedict is suddenly by your side. Announcing to the family that there has been a change of plan and, regrettably, you will not be able to stay for dinner, his arm an insistent tug around your waist.
——
“Why did we not stay for family dinner as originally planned, my love?” 
Your question is soft, only just audible over the noise of the carriage as you trundle over the cobbled streets of Mayfair a few minutes later. 
“I decided that we should perhaps dine at ours this evening…” his voice adopting that deeper edge which always causes butterflies in your tummy. His hand lands on your knee, a heavy weight that feels portentous. He slides closer on the bench seat.
“Why might that be?” your ask turns breathy, entirely without you meaning it to.
“I want to be alone with you,” he murmurs, unmistakably pitched to arouse. 
The carriage seems to notch up a few degrees as the rocking motion presses your side rhythmically into his. The sound of the wheels and hooves is so loud. He twists to wrap an arm around your shoulder and pulls your back against his flank. 
“All day today, I have watched you,” he rumbles, hand warming the skin around your clavicle, fingertip brushing in circles. “You are so very good with children, darling. Seeing you so naturally with the babies and how you handled Hyacinth… you would be the perfect mother.”
You blush a little at his praise. “Thank you, my love. I would like children one day. Your children. Imagine a child with your eyes. They would be quite the most beautiful,” you sigh wistfully, leaning back into him, his hand feeling heavier on your skin.
Benedict chuckles modestly. “And what of your beauty? Would a child version of you not be the most fetching?”
You giggle and turn your head sideways to nuzzle against his jaw. “I think we would indeed make beautiful babies together, Benedict.”
“I agree,” his voice a tempting lilt, fingers skating downwards over the swell of your breast now, slipping inside the fabric and making you gasp as he tweaks your nipple. “And I think we should start as soon as we get home.”
“Did seeing me with babies suddenly make you want your own, Mr Bridgerton?” Your hand flexes on his knee as he toys with your breast.
“Oh yes darling, it made me want to take you right there…” he asserts, finally admitting those looks he gave you were indeed pure arousal.
You reach up and run your hand into his hair, fingers flexing on his warm scalp as you pull his face to yours.  “And suddenly, it appears I am no longer hungry for dinner…” you whisper flirtatiously, your cupid's bow brushing his stubbled upper lip.
He groans, and his passionate kiss is plundering, a tingle running over your limbs, just as your carriage comes to a shuddering stop outside your townhome. 
Uncaring of the neighbourhood or any prying eyes, Benedict sweeps you out of the carriage in his arms, carrying you bridal style over the pavement and through your front door.
“My wife and I are not to be disturbed,” he announces crisply and loudly to the staff as you enter the hallway.
Leaving no room for doubt about his plans by pulling you into a searing kiss for all to see before ascending the stairs rapidly. He practically growls as he kicks open the door to your master bedroom door and slams it shut again with his foot. 
“Benedict…” you stammer, heart pounding at how overwrought he is. 
You have never seen him like this. Commanding, crackling with an energy that has your body simmering. He is usually so sweet, affable, and kind. Every time you have been intimate since your wedding night a few weeks ago, he has been a complete gentleman: loving and so very tender. The grip he has had on you tonight feels different. This is something primal—like a switch has been flipped at a basal level in his being.
He places you down onto your feet before the roaring fire, his face intense.
“Wife…” The way he says it makes you feel a flush creep over your skin.
“Husband…” you respond in kind, belly fluttering with excitement.
“Take off your dress,” he orders, his dilated pupils shining in the firelight.
This is new. Usually, he is the one to remove it slowly and softly from your body. 
“I cannot, the buttons…” you confess, signalling behind you. You would need your ladies' maid to unhook them from between your shoulder blades.  
He moves closer, seeming so much taller; his ragged breaths dance in the tendrils of your hair as he reaches around behind your shoulders. With a rough tug that makes you startle, he tears the fabric asunder, the sound of tiny pearl buttons skittering across the polished wooden floor behind you as you gasp in surprise.
“There…” he smirks dangerously, “problem resolved.”
You are speechless as he withdraws a pace, looking at you expectantly. You follow his order, a slight quake in your hands as you push the frayed dress down your body, still a little shocked by his strength. Then you reach for the crisscross lacing of your stays, feeling the weight of his stare as each loop relents, his eyes hungry, his body heaving with deep breaths his fitted jacket taut with each inhale. You peel the item away, leaving just your thin white cotton chemise.
“Rip it too,” you plead before you realise it, enthralled by this assertive demeanour.
With a noise in the back of his throat, he takes a pace forward again, and you stare up at him, enchanted. He grasps the fabric above your breasts and then rips it loudly from your chest all the way to your ankles, the sound echoing up the walls. Again, his strength has your knees weak. As the torn pieces flutter from your body, you want to bathe in the hungry sound he makes as he realises you are clad only in white knee-high silk stockings, no underwear to be seen, the warmth from the fireplace swirling around your intimate area. 
As you stand almost naked before your imposing husband, him still fully dressed, there is a knot low in your gut. But it’s not fear; it’s something else entirely—desire. Trembling, breathless and wanting. An elemental wish to be thoroughly taken.
He steps forward, eyes glittering, and his fingers plough roughly between your legs, making you gasp.
“Eden,” he proclaims, his fingers snagging over your swollen pearl of a clit with almost rough strokes, the callous where he holds his paintbrush abrading your folds. “A wonderful, lush, wet garden. Just waiting to be planted.”  His words are hypnotic and low, questing fingers being coated with a dewiness that is entirely of his making.
“Please…” you whimper, squirming on his touch, captivated by this version of your husband, wanting to submit to him, a burning need low in your belly. His fingers slide faster, making a lewd, wet noise. 
“Are you going to let me?” Benedict croons. “Plant my seed inside you?”
Until now, he has always been careful to complete outside your body. A slightly bereft feeling every time - the wonderful moment cut short as he leaves you suddenly empty, a warm splash upon your thighs, tummy or spine. The idea he will stay inside you is alluring in a way you don’t fully comprehend.
“Yes, please, husband,” your nipples puckering almost painfully against the wool of his lapels as he crowds into you. 
“Good. Get on that bed right now,” Benedict orders roughly, pointing at your four-poster bed as he tugs off his jacket.
You scramble to obey. Feeling under a spell. Being naked save your stockings feels illicit as you lay back into the soft pillows and watch as he undresses, staring you down the whole time. 
You slide a hand between your legs instinctively as more of his toned body is revealed. He growls at the sight, you biting your lip and watching him, his torso bare, his trousers clinging to his shapely legs, to his swollen cock. He bends to remove his shoes, and the sight of his broad shoulders flexing is enough to make you moan. As he stands back up and hooks his elegant fingers around the trouser buttons, a smug look on his handsome face that he is doing this to you.
“Husband…” you call out to him, writhing on your fingers shamelessly now, one hand shooting up to brace your movements against the headboard, flushing warm down to your toes.
With a few dextrous flicks, the buttons relent, and his trousers drop to the floor. His naked body is always a delicious sight, but tonight feels more, every sense heightened, moaning again as he takes a step towards you, thigh muscles flexing, his cock standing proud to attention.
Again, a soft plea falls from your lips, your eyes raking every plain of his tempting form, feeling yourself swell under your fingertips.
“Not yet,” he clucks, the arrogance somehow more beguiling as you bite your lip. “I think I want to watch you come, my darling. All by yourself. I hear female pleasure can aid with conception after all.”
“Will you not touch me?” you petition, reaching your other hand imploringly towards him.
“No darling, I shall watch,” his lopsided grin deadly. 
He wraps a strong fist around his own cock, pumping slowly, a bead of moisture gathering at his tip, glistening in the candlelight as he does. 
“Now, use both hands, please. Place your fingers inside yourself,” Benedict instructs as you blindly follow, a languid buzz in your brain—you would do anything he told you to right now.
Planting your feet squarely on the bed, you drag your ankles up higher towards your bottom, letting your legs fall open wider to give him a better view as your other hand slides down. You plunge two fingers into yourself, your hips canting off the mattress with a staccato breath at the sensation of yourself, so hot and tight.
“That's right,” he endorses, a leisurely movement of his hand up and down his cock as he watches you from a few feet away. “‘Feel yourself, darling. Tis paradise, is it not?” that trademark rumbling voice skittering over your skin, goosebumps raising down your arms just at the tone. 
“Come closer,” you appeal breathily, wanting to smell him, feel his heat, his flesh—anything.
He shakes his head, smirking wider as his refusal spurs you on, desperate to come. Mewling as your fingers speed up, one circling your clit, the others buried as far as you can, wishing instead it were his long, graceful fingers reaching places you are unable. Watching him squeeze his own cock hurtles you fast, already aroused from the moment he slid a hand into your dress in the carriage. 
Unable to fight the tide in your body, you screw your eyes shut and call out his name as your pussy starts to convulse around your own fingers, toes curling into the sheet, your muscles all going stiff, your hips again raised as you feel the tide break. A gush of wetness runs down your palm and your bottom cheeks as your mind floats away. Distantly, you can hear him speaking, but it’s fuzzy as you flop back down, sated, your legs going flat, too shaky to balance.
You startle as a warm hand circles the wrist of your fingers still inside yourself, bringing you abruptly back into the room. Benedict looms over you, his chest heaving, that power still there.
“What was that?” your query drowsy, lips dry.
He chuckles richly. “I said that was spectacular,” he repeats, bemused. “But also that I want you to paint your nipples with your arousal, my love, for me,” he commands, tugging your hand so your fingers slide out of yourself.
You do as bidden, still floating down from the high, smearing your own warm juices onto your puffed areolas.
“Perfect..” he intones.
In one swift, athletic move, he mounts the bed. You cry out as his warm mouth encloses your left nipple, groaning lewdly as he licks you clean of your arousal, his tongue a heavy, warm, wet weight curling around your sensitive bud, his lips tugging gently, reawakening those synapses only just recovering from your orgasm. 
“Why do you always taste like heaven?” his dusky question is rhetorical, his breath gusting over your sternum as he swaps to your other breast to meter out the same treatment. He has you moving under him again as he settles his body over you more firmly, your hips tilting up to feel his hard cock graze your inner thigh. “I wonder if you will still taste like heaven when you are heavy with my child?” he hums thoughtfully as he teases your nipple with the tip of his nose, one hand cupping your empty belly. “I dare say even moreso, ripe like a vine, bearing fruit…” That sonorous voice teases over your skin as he moves slowly upwards to nuzzle your neck. “My fruit….” he adds, possessive as he sucks your earlobe into his mouth, so loud now right by your ear.
His hands wind around your thighs as he shuffles position so he is kneeling between your legs, his ropey thighs spread wide under yours…
“Are you ready for that, my love?” he pauses until you nod almost imperceptibly; you squeak as he suddenly hauls you down the bed, hips onto his lap, your pelvis now higher than your head upon the sheets. Your stockings unfurling down your legs where he quickly plucks at the ribbons holding them aloft.
“Good, because I am more than ready for you,” it almost sounds like a warning.
Then, with a solid thrust, he spears into your body, the invasion toe-curling, your fingers grasping his muscular forearms that are clamped around your waist. It is a primal position, and he begins to thrust with no mercy, his cock feeling huge and heavy, a strong weight that drags heavily over your walls as your pussy clings to him. Your eyes flutter closed as you whimper his name, powerless to do anything but take his thrusts, draped across his lap as you are.
“Look at me,” he demands raggedly. And you do, his handsome face contorted with effort as he slams into you, a little bead of sweat forming on his brow. “Look at me while I fuck a baby into you, wife.”
He’s never spoken to you like this before, clipped, harsh. It seems appropriate that he would be almost desperate in an act so elemental, so of the earth—to create life. Stoking a fire deep in your core that is a clarion call for him, a frisson running over your skin at the idea you are being impregnated. Bred.
You know neither of you will last long with this almost frenzied coupling, the tendrils of your arousal already swirling so soon after your last, his near-brutish handling precisely what you need, your swollen pearl slammed into his flat abdomen with every stroke he takes. The sheets roll under your shoulder blades as he keeps the same position, your hips high, a mounting that you cannot and do not want to escape, knowing he is leaving fingertip bruises around the dip of your waist, marks you will carry secretly with pride just for him.
You moan his name, so close again to that ephemeral bliss, thrashing your head from side to side as if willing the pleasure to break and wash over you.
“Come on, come for me, milk me, darling. Take what you need, take my seed,” his voice a deep wrecked purr, the lines of his body tense, craving release as much as you.
That command is what breaks the dam for you, an almost violent ricochet fanning out from where you clench around him, his cries muffled behind the rushing noise in your ears, every part of you convulsing in a pleasurable wave. And then, in a floating haze, for the very first time, you feel your husband come inside you, a warm bloom that coats your walls. It's an intoxicating feeling; you never want him to come anywhere else ever again.
“That's it, well done, my love,” he croons, eyes still shut as he shudders with little aftershocks, not leaving your body—as if he wants to stay inside you always.
——
As the embers in the fireplace glow white, you lay in post-coital bliss, bodies dewy from exertion. Benedict rests his head upon your stomach as you card your fingers leisurely through his hair.
“Do you believe we may have made a baby, darling?” he hums, pressing his ear to your belly button as if listening for a heartbeat.
“I am certain of it, husband; you were so very thorough with your attentions,” you assure as he takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. “I hope our baby has your face,” you opine.
“Even if it is a girl?!”
“Thou art as pretty as thou art handsome, Mr Bridgerton,” you quip.
He laughs, carefree, crawling behind you and pulling you into a spooned embrace. “Be careful with such provocation, wife; I may not be done with you after all,” he jests idly. “I, on the other hand, hope our child looks like you, even if it is a boy.” he posits, crowding into your back, his lips warm on the shell of your ear.
“Why?” you laugh, frowning, twisting to look back at him.
“So that I may love them as much as I do you,” he breezes nonchalantly as if what he says is not the sweetest thing you can imagine, causing a tart, sudden spike of want through your body, even as you lay sated.
“Be careful, husband,” you volley back, coquettish. “Or I may not yet be done with you.”
There is a sharp, approving intake of breath, and his hand slides low from your belly into the thatch of hair at the apex of your thighs.
“Is that a promise” he rumbles, your gasp loud as his fingers expertly drag against your clit.
“It is whatever you want. Just do not stop,” you rush out, your hand curling around his bicep, feeling a rigid mass slide hot against your bottom. “Again, husband,” you appeal breathily. “Impregnate me again.”
“With pleasure, wife,” he growls, surging into your body with a force that again steals the very breath from your lungs.
The pinkish light dawn is streaking over the ceiling above when you both finally succumb to sleep after many more vigorous attempts at babymaking. The last one, perhaps the most desperate, you pinned against the headboard, him fucking into you so hard from behind that a jagged crack appears, spidering up the wall from where the bedframe slammed into it. A flaw which he steadfastly refuses to get fixed, claiming it to be the most profound art—a souvenir and ode to a momentous night.
——
9 months later
Benedict’s lips mash against your sweaty brow as he keeps lauding you with praise, excitement and pride evident in his every word. You flop back onto the bed, exhaustion deep in your bones, your body turned inside out, hurting in a way you have never known.
But it was all worth it.
What feels like only moments later, in your shattered, addled state, the doctor and nurses depart. Your husband perches on the bed next to you, his face a picture of wonderment. Holding not just one but two bundles of joy in the crooks of his arms. One girl, one boy—fraternal twins.
“My love, we have created the most beautiful creatures on all of this earth,” he attests partisanly, his voice profound with emotion, his eyes pinging from one swaddled face to the other as they sleep soundly.
You shoot him a watery but ironic smile. “I suppose, dear husband, that is what happens when you spend a whole night impregnating me. You succeed twice over.”
His brow raises pointedly, his tongue shooting out to pass over his bottom lip. “Are you suggesting next time around, wife, we keep going for three days straight? So that I may have a brood of eight by the time we are done?” Deploying his bedroom voice that he knows full well makes your knees weak.
“Do not say such things in front of the children!” you chide, swatting his knee where it touches your thigh. “And no, I am not carrying six of your progeny at once; that is simply preposterous!”
“Four?” he petitions with a wink.
You roll your eyes affectionately, settling back into the mound of pillows. “A maximum of two at a time is my final offer, Benedict Bridgerton,” you respond drolly.
“Entirely reasonable,” he chuckles contentedly, dropping a kiss onto each of their foreheads before handing both to you so delicately, as if they are the most precious bundles in the world. 
Which to you both, they are.
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Join my taglist HERE
Benedict taglist pt 1: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @notanotheruniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @sya-skies
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fangirl-dot-com · 4 months
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🧠Fake Amnesia
*part of the reverse trope series*
Pairing: Lando Norris x Fan!Reader Genre: Fluff/Humor/SMAU Summary: There was a saying that if you knew a celebrity existed, your chances of meeting them out and about decreased significantly. Is it true? No clue. But, you weren't about to let that stop you from finding Lando Norris in Imola.
*I am so so sorry for the very late and delayed chapter. I hope you all like it! I switched out this one to write it before the next as "Love Triangle" was supposed to come out first, but we've had a lot of Lestappen for now! But here we go!"
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
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Were you a bit stupid? 
Yes. Yes you were. Did you more money than your budget allowed just to get to Imola a few days early to possibly not even find Lando? You didn’t want to talk about it. 
But right now as you perused through the local shopping area, you didn’t take the time to really dwell on your past choices. Only finding Lando could save you now. Which that seemed like a faraway dream. 
Whatever that one reddit post said about having a higher chance of meeting a celebrity if you didn’t know them was absolute bullshit. You couldn’t go back in time to stop yourself from liking a thirst trap of Lando on TikTok. And now because of that, your chances of meeting the British driver seriously decreased. 
How on earth were you supposed to find one of the most popular men alive, on a race weekend, where everyone was already looking to spot the driver in a more relaxed setting? You had no clue. But the shopping center felt like a good idea. 
You had been drawn in by one of the jewelry sections, eyes glazing over the number of zeros that followed every first number. Your heart winced at the thought of even buying one. To be honest, you didn’t even know how you got into this mall in the first place. Everyone around you was dressed in the highest European fashion. 
Your outfit wasn’t terrible per say, but it didn’t reflect the Italian area either. You were wearing some cream baggy linen pants that matched the light orange top that you had thrown on after scrambling to find a shirt. You didn’t really know exactly what shirt you were wearing, except that it was comfortable and went well with the pants. The giant number 4 on the back went completely unnoticed. Sandals adorned your feet and sunglass sat as though a crown on your head. Your cross-body bag dangled a bit against your side. 
You had just cringed once again at a price tag when your eyes landed on some brown curly hair. Your eyes followed the coils down to the face and you wanted to scream (but held it in because you were not about to get kicked out). 
There was no way that Lando Norris was standing about 10 feet away from you. 
There was no way. 
Except your hands automatically opened your phone and the twitter app popped up. You were too busy looking down at your phone, fingers moving at the speed of light, to notice that some hazel eyes had landed on your figure. 
Lando, on the other hand, wanted to sigh. Could he go one day without having to get stopped by fans? The giant 4 on your shirt seemed to mock him. Internally, he was wishing that the girl was a Max or Charles fan. 
But, he was going to be the bigger person and approach the nice looking girl before she could bring more attention to him. He decreased the space between them and tapped her shoulder, getting her attention. 
You were not expecting a tap on the shoulder. And you were definitely not expecting that tap to come from Lando Norris’s finger. 
“Can I sign something for you?” he asked. The sound of his voice must have put some type of spell on you since you felt as though you couldn’t speak. 
Lando huffed. “Please? I don’t need other people finding out that I’m here and then I’ll have to leave.” 
You blinked twice at him before you finally found your voice. “I’m sorry. Who are you exactly?” 
Stupid reddit post. 
The McLaren driver wanted to smack himself. Were you a fan? Or maybe you were wearing a papaya colored shirt that supported another person, who happened to have the same number? Or maybe if was your friend’s shirt? Or one you thrifted?
He winced. “I am so sorry. I thought. . . ” 
You shifted on your feet, brain trying to come up with an idea for what happens next. You were standing in front of thee Lando Norris. You couldn’t miss this opportunity. 
Lando watched your eyes widen and he wanted to hide. Maybe you were just shocked that it was him? 
Your eyes then squinted. “You look really familiar. Oh, I know where you’re from.” 
The Briton wanted to run and hide. This was it, you were going to start squealing, and then other people will look that way, see Lando, cause a giant crowd, and then he wouldn’t be able to do anything for the rest of the weekend. 
He was doomed. 
“You’re that actor right? From Spiderman.” 
This time, Lando blinked while staying silent. 
“No, I believe that’s Tom Holland.” 
“Oh.” 
Now it was getting awkward with the two of you just looking at each other. Which, this gave you the perfect opportunity to memorize the different shades of blue, green, and brown in his eyes. You looked to the side and chewed on you bottom lip. 
Lando looked stuck. 
“I am so sorry for interrupting your shopping,” he started out. 
You waved your hands, trying to act nonchalant. “It’s fine. Wasn’t like I could buy anything here. Way too many zeros for my liking.” 
Lando giggled at that and you internally melted. 
Time to add “got Lando Norris to giggle like a schoolgirl” on your resume. 
“Yeah. Bit too posh for me as well.” 
You raised an eyebrow. “Really? You look like you fit in a bit more than I do.” 
He rolled his eyes before huffing. “I’d rather spend time playing video games at my house instead.” 
Now this is what you could get behind. When you first started following Lando, gaming started to interest you. Because of him, you were able to meet a bunch of friends through gaming. Your notifications were specifically set up to let you know when Lando was streaming. 
Your eyes lit up with some excitement, which Lando thought was adorable. 
“I like to game too! It’s fun playing weird simulator games. Me and my friends tried this goat game one time and we couldn’t stop laughing.” 
This time, Lando’s eyes sparkled. 
“I’ve played goat simulator too with my friends! Charles . . .” he caught himself, not wanting to give out more names. “Uh my friends Carl, Alec, and Jord really liked it during the pandemic. And then we got Dax in on it too.” 
You wanted to absolutely start laughing, since you actually watched that stream live back in 2020. The cute names he gave to Charles, Alex, George, and Max were adorable. Your friends, although knowing you were watching the stream, had sent you the link and asked if you’d want to play the same simulator. Let’s just say, your laugh rivaled teapot-Charles. 
“They sound like fun,” you said, a warm tone in your voice that had Lando melting like chocolate under a hot summer’s sun. 
There was a bit of silence before Lando spoke up again. “Do you maybe, this sounds so weird, but there’s a game store farther down, would you want to join me?” 
There was no way in hell that you’d tell him no. 
You smiled up at him. “Sure! Lead the way! By the way, I’m Y/n.” 
Lando went to say something but stopped. You could tell he almost said his name, and you’d bet money on the name that was about to come out of his mouth. 
“I’m Bob.”
Bingo. 
You snorted. “You don’t look like a Bob. But what would I know?” 
The two of you laughed as you started walking farther into the shopping center. You exchanged laughs here and there, sharing stories about your lives with Lando being very vague about his day job. 
“I work as an Uber driver,” he had said after you confessed that you were now working as a part-time gamer and then part-time relator. The work was hard, but that job allowed you to spend your hard-earned money on fun things like: coming to Imola early to try to find Lando. 
Low-and-behold, you did. 
Spending the afternoon with him felt so comfortable, as if you had known each other your entire lives. And Lando, to his surprise, felt the same. After the gaming store, he even invited you to lunch. 
“You know you don’t have to do that,” you told him, but kept stride alongside him as he walked toward the small restaurants. 
He shrugged. “I know. But I like spending time with you.” 
A deep blush formed on your face as you kept walking. The bright red caused Lando to smirk just a bit. 
As you ate and made conversation, you suddenly felt the urge to use the bathroom. You quickly excused yourself and left, leaving Lando at the table along. 
He hadn’t meant to look, but your phone kept going off and his eyes just barely looked at your screen. They widened with he noticed his exact points in the season along with McLaren’s and the race schedule. And the picture of him from Miami after his first win as your lockscreen.
The Box-Box app. 
He pursed his lips for a moment, briefly feeling played. But as he sat and thought about the past few hours that he spent with you, he felt content. At any point, you could have screamed his name, asked for a picture, and ruin his shopping trip. You could have tweeted his location and hordes of people would have shown up. 
But you didn’t.  
The McLaren driver was so caught up in his head that he didn’t heard you coming. Thankfully, your screen had gone dark, still giving the effect that you “didn’t know” who he really way. 
“Everything ok Bob?” you asked as you sat back down, stealing one of his French fries from his tray. 
Lando shook his head, ridding the “betrayal” from his thoughts. 
“Just perfect. Trying to figure out who might win the Formula 1 race this weekend.” 
He wanted to smirk at you froze for just a second before leaning back just a bit, arms crossed over your chest. 
“What is that? Some type of NASCAR thing?” 
Oh, so you knew how to play. 
Luckily for Lando, so did he. 
“It’s a bit different,” he said as he took a sip of his drink. 
You were internally freaking out. 
Did he know? If he knew then he might say something. And then he’ll call his security team and get you a ban from the paddock. And you might even go to jail for stalking. Could you even go to Italian jail for that? You didn’t know and didn’t want to find out. 
However, Lando kept silent as the two of you finished your lunches. Easy conversation did flow once again when you steered it back to gaming. You had a giant smile as the two of you walked out of the shopping area. 
However, your heart dropped when you realized that the time with the Briton was coming to a quick end. Lando was feeling the same. 
You let out a sigh as you turned to look him in the eyes. “Thank you for today. I had a lot of fun! Like I said, you didn’t have to.” 
Lando scoffed. “Of course I did. I interrupted your shopping. It was the least I could do.” 
There was a lingering silence before you broke it. 
“I guess this is the end then Bob.” You held out a hand for him to shake, but he rolled his eyes and brought you into a hug. You parted after a bit and started to walk toward the little Fiat you had rented for the weekend. 
Lando felt torn until he realized he could definitely see you again. 
“Y/n! Wait!” 
You turned around to see Lando running up to you, phone out. 
“Can I have your number?” 
Yep, this is how you were going to die. Y/n L/n found dead in a parking lot after Lando Norris asked for her number. What an amazing way to go out in the end. 
You didn’t say anything, but quickly opened your phone and handed it to him, new contact ready to be filled out. The driver was smirking to himself as he filled out his information. He handed your phone back to you, only to lean down and kiss your cheek.
The familiar bright red once again filled them in as he leaned back. 
“I had a lot of fun today. Maybe I’ll see you soon?” he quietly said as he started to walk away. 
“Maybe,” you said back, biting your bottom lip after. 
Lando swore that if the two of you weren’t in the parking lot, he’d bite it for you. 
When he was a bit away, he turned back and waved at you, happy to see that you were still staring at him. But who wouldn’t stare at Lando Norris though. Definitely not you, you could stare all day long if you could. 
“Bye Y/n!”
“Bye Lando!” 
Your hands clapped over your mouth as you watched him lean back in a full laugh. You even had him hunching over in a fit of giggles. You still watched as his shoulders shake as he got into what looked to be an Uber. 
Your phone buzzed, causing you to look down at it. There was an email and a text message. One from McLaren and one from “Lando 🧡” 
“Maybe next time I can sign your shirt. I think it’s cute that you follow my points :)”
You turned around quickly, trying to see the back of your shirt in the reflection of your rental car. There it was, in all it’s glory. 
The giant-ass “4.” 
“Shit.” 
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y/n_l/n has posted
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y/n_y/n kinda confused about 20 guys driving around in circles. someone know what this is called?
also ran into this really cute guy. says he drives for a living. didn't know uber drivers could be hot
liked by friend1, bestie, landonorris, maxverstappen1, and 3,204 others
friend1 ayo is that the guy that you will not shut up about?
landonorris awww you don't shut up about me??
y/n_l/n STOP EXPOSING ME
bestie ok I see the appeal, can you ask someone for that brunet in the red's number??
maxverstappen1 🤺🤺🤺
y/n_l/n i think he's taken
charles_leclerc I am??
maxverstappen1 ☹️
charles_leclerc I AM TAKEN
friend2 so luckyyyyyyy
friend4 glad you had fun!
oscarpiastri I think it's called Formula 1
y/n_l/n finally someone who knows something @.landonorris you've been replaced
landonorris osc, we've talked about this
fan1 what the heck is going on
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis
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strang3lov3 · 27 days
Text
Bad Habit
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“Don’t you ever start smokin’. If I catch ya with one of these in that mouth of yours, I’ll make you regret it,” he said, exhaling smoke. “I will make you fuckin’ regret it.”
After Joel catches you smoking, he gives you something else to put between your lips. (7.2k)
Tags - dbf!joel, neighbor!joel, pervy/sleazy yet comforting Joel, cock from a man who could be your second father, smut, smoking, dubcon elements, blowjobs, masturbation, joel jorks it, oral sex, unprotected piv, creampie, joel makes you smoke until you’re sick to your stomach, vomiting, gratuitous use of the nickname ‘kiddo’ because I am who I am, dubcon, the other stuff Fic help - thank you my dearest @noxturnalpascal for editing <3 and @pinkypromisepascal for giving me your eyeballs and leaving lovely comments, my other main squeezes for brainstorming with me!! @endlessthxxghts @beefrobeefcal A/N - heddo!I sorry for the delay on getting this out. fic posting will continue to be sporadic and weird for a while so thank you for being patient <3 i hope you all have a safe week and I love you very much 🫂💕 definitely didn’t skip class to finish this and watch gilmore girls btw so if you hear that rumor about me it is bullshit it is not true at all
The cool, late-summer air blows gently on your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake as you sit next to your open window, headphones on, Fiona Apple’s When The Pawn… playing in your ears. You take a long drag of your cigarette and let it fill and burn your lungs, then blow the smoke outside. The sun is setting, the dim light making everything in your room look like a black and white movie, even your own hand in front of you. You love nights like these. 
Eyes gently shut, you’re lost in thought when a tapping on the glass startles you. You gasp when you see Joel, his big hand clutching a large garbage bag. He must have seen you on his way taking the trash out. 
Joel’s your neighbor, he’s been your neighbor all your life. He’s your dad’s closest friend as well, and had a heavy hand in raising you. You used to eat at his house for dinner on Sunday nights, a tradition that’s lasted to present day. As a teenager, you’d spend days and nights at his house when you and your dad weren’t getting along, needing some space from each other. Joel was always a safe person for you to go to. His guest room practically became your second bedroom by the time you graduated. Joel taught you card games, and would make you root beer floats while you played round after round of Rummy. 
Joel was actually the first person to introduce you to smoking. Unintentionally, of course. You can remember him always smelling warmly of tobacco, smelling it on his hair, skin, and clothes when you’d hug him. When you were younger, he told you once, cigarette in his mouth, “Don’t you ever start smokin’. If I catch ya with one of these in that mouth of yours, I’ll make you regret it,” he said, exhaling smoke, “I will make you fuckin’ regret it.”
“Hey, trouble,” Joel drawls. “You ain’t ‘sposed to be smokin’ that.” 
Joel reaches for your cigarettes and pulls it from your mouth, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. He examines it, chuckling quietly at the feeling of the stickiness of your lipgloss on the rolling paper. He brings it to his mouth, then takes a couple puffs before stubbing the cigarette out on the sole of his shoe, then disposes it in his garbage bag. Your dad doesn’t need to see your old cigarette stubs when he’s mowing the lawn. “Don’t let me catch ya again,” he warns, then presses a warm kiss to your forehead, mustache tickling your skin. “Get some sleep. G’night, kiddo.”
This isn’t the first time Joel’s caught you smoking. The first time he did, you were probably around eighteen years old. You remember that it was around Thanksgiving, the leaves were still falling off the trees and the air was chilly. It was an evening when Joel and your dad were hanging out in the kitchen, watching a Bears and Cowboys game on TV. Rooting for the opposite teams, your dad and Joel were barking at each other, getting loud and rowdy. There was no escape from the noise, so you snuck out of your bedroom window and just started walking. Joel left his garage door open, so you decided to hang out there. You admired the posters on the wall, Nirvana and The Rolling Stones. Different liquor brand artwork, picked up from when he used to work as a bartender. The garage never changed, always had that faint smell of cigarettes permeating the air. 
Cigarettes. They were on the workbench in the back of the garage, a pack of Marlboro reds just sitting there, waiting to be smoked. To the left of the pack, a little white Bic lighter. You weren’t sure what came over you at that moment but you palmed both items, then peeked over your shoulder to make sure you really were as alone as you thought you were. You held your breath and focused hard, and found that you were able to hear the faint sounds of Joel and your dad yelling. You were in the clear. 
You opened the worn pack of Marlboros and pulled out one of the cigarettes, the first time you ever held one in your hand. You rolled it between your fingers, inspecting it, before you brought it to your nose to smell the tobacco. With trembling hands you placed the cigarette between your lips, and as you fumbled with the little white lighter, Joel’s warning played over and over again in your mind. If I catch ya with one of these in that mouth of yours, I’ll make you regret it.
But Joel wasn’t there. And what Joel didn’t know wouldn’t kill him. So you lit the cigarette and inhaled, then coughed a bit at the sensation. It was harsh, made your throat feel itchy and scratchy. You didn’t like the way the smoke burned your lungs and you couldn’t wrap your head around how Joel - anyone, for that matter - could become addicted to something as unpleasant as this. You took another puff for the sake of experimenting and you were met with the same experience. Unpleasant. But by the third or fourth drag, you felt the beginning of that headrush everyone talks about. A lightheaded, hazy sort of feeling. Now that…that wasn’t quite so unpleasant. You could see exactly how cigarettes could relieve stress. Taking another puff, you thought maybe you’d steal one or two more from the pack, save them for the end of the week. Smoke them when you’re home from school, before your dad or Joel could see you. And then you’ll shower real quick, wash your hair and brush your teeth and toss your clothes in the washer and -
“The hell do you think you’re doin’?” 
Shit. 
You pulled the cigarette out of your mouth and stubbed it out in a nearby ashtray on Joel’s workbench. “N-nothing.” 
“Bullshit, you’re smokin’,” Joel bit, approaching you through the open garage door. “So help me god, kid...” He snatched his pack of cigarettes from you, along with his lighter. “Stealin’, too. These are my smokes. What the fuck’s the matter with you?” 
“Joel, I’m sorry. I-” 
“You ain’t sorry, yet. Get in the truck.” 
“Joel-”
“Get. In. The fucking. Truck.” he seethed. He wore such a threatening scowl, and his face and neck were red, veins bulging in his skin as his anger grew. 
You scurried into his truck that sat on the driveway and Joel followed suit, slamming the door shut before turning the key into the ignition. Even the truck sounded angry as it roared to life. Joel shifted into reverse and drove you down the street, to the nearest gas station. “Stay there,” he ordered. 
You awaited his return anxiously, picking at your nails. Joel returned with a new pack of Marlboro reds and drove back to his home. “Garage,” he said. 
“But my dad-”
“Garage.” 
 If I catch ya with one of these in that mouth of yours, I’ll make you regret it.
Joel made good on his promise. He sat you down in front of the workbench, right where you were before. He lowered the garage door until it rested just about a foot off the ground so that the smoke had somewhere to go. Then he sat in front of you, hit the pack of cigarettes on his palm five times before unwrapping the cellophane and opening the pack. Joel took one cigarette out and flipped it upside down in the pack. 
“What are you doing?”
“Christ almighty,” he sighs. “You’re so fuckin’ young. You pack the cigarettes first, so they burn smoother an’ longer.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. And then you flip your lucky - just the one cigarette.” Joel pulled the upside down cigarette from the pack to demonstrate. “Old World War II tradition, if I’m not mistaken. ‘Sposed to be a good luck charm.” 
Joel pulled one cigarette from the pack for you, placed it between your lips and lit it. He could see the confused expression on your face as you inhale and exhale. 
“Just you wait,” he said. “I promise you, this is a punishment.” 
“How?”
“You’re gonna sit here with me and smoke every last cigarette in that pack. I don’t care f’your lungs start to burn and you feel sick to your stomach, you’re smokin’ ‘em all,” he said. “Now get to it.” 
Joel watched you as you smoked cigarette after cigarette. He was right, your lungs did start to ache and hurt and your stomach had begun to feel queasy from all the nicotine. After about the sixth or seventh, you had figured out that you could make things a little easier on yourself by not breathing in the smoke all the way, just let it hang out in your mouth instead. 
“I started smokin’ when I was around your age,” Joel said as he lit another cigarette for you. “Couldn’t ‘a been older than seventeen.”
You nodded. 
“Why’d you pick this habit up, huh? You know these things aren’t any good for ya.” 
“I don’t know,” you sighed, ashing onto the garage floor. “I just…I don’t know. Stressed out.”
“‘Bout what?”
You shrugged. “Just everything, I guess.” 
Joel nodded. “I get it,” he said. “But there’s other ways of relievin’ stress that ain’t smokin’.” 
“Like what?”
“Well,” Joel began, looking down at his lap. “The cigarettes are causin’ that brain of yours to release those feel-good chemicals. You gotta find something else that feels good, hon. M’sure you’ll figure out what that means.” 
 You felt your cheeks heat up at the implication of how to get your endorphins flowing, but you knew he wasn’t wrong. You nodded shyly. 
“Now keep smokin’.” 
“Joel,” you whined, coughing dryly. 
“Keep it up,” he threatened, “I’ll make it two packs.” 
What felt like hours passed until you finally made it to the last two cigarettes in the pack, and you felt ill. “C’mon,” Joel said. “Last two. I’m smokin’ the last one with ya, and then we’re done, both of us,” he promised. He lit his cigarette first, then yours, and then took a drag. You did too, though it was agony. 
“I don’t feel so good, Joel,” you told him, clutching your stomach and squirming in your seat as the nauseating feeling in your stomach worsened. 
“Good,” Joel retorted. “Means the punishment’s workin’. You ain’t ‘sposed to feel good.” You looked at Joel with glassy eyes, your skin a little damp with sweat. “You okay, sweetheart?”
You shook your head. Your stomach churned harder, you felt your mouth salivate as your heart began to beat faster. There was no more staving off the feeling - you dropped your cigarette and sprinted inside, making a beeline for Joel’s bathroom. Joel followed close behind and rubbed your back as you emptied your guts into his toilet until you were dry-heaving. “Oh, I know, I know,” he whispered, patting you gently. “You’re gonna be okay.” 
“Fuck,” you groaned, lifting your head up and leaning back to rest against Joel. He flushed the toilet for you, then helped you up so you could rinse your mouth out in the sink. 
“It don’t feel too good, huh?” he murmured, stroking the side of your face. “You’re gonna be a good girl for me? Gonna quit smokin’?”
“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, I’m done.”
“Attagirl,” Joel smiled. 
Joel offered you some Pepto-Bismol and guided you to his couch, where he held you and talked. After about forty-five minutes, he sent you home. Your dad was none the wiser, probably passed out on his own couch after the game. Joel kept your secret under the condition that you’d quit smoking for good, and he quit too. In all honesty, he was shaken that it was his cigarettes you’d stolen, and disturbed by the fact he was the one to introduce you to tobacco - your dad didn’t smoke, never has. He had unknowingly introduced you to it, of course, but Joel still held himself responsible. Joel meant it, smoking that last cigarette with you. He decided that night he was quitting cold turkey. He was done.
-
You should have been done too. You shouldn’t still be doing this. And that pack of Marlboros in your purse shouldn’t be there, you should have thrown it out the other night when Joel caught you smoking out of your window. But you’re in Joel’s backyard, cigarette between your fingers as you listen to the sounds of the family barbecue taking place in your own backyard. 
It was just too much. Your family increases in size every year, be it a new partner, new family friends, new children. And your family is loud. Every conversation happens using raised voices, even if no one is speaking in anger. Boisterous laughter, dogs barking, shrill squeals of excited kids running through sprinklers. There’s no escape from it at all, unless you’re to escape it entirely - so that’s exactly what you did, and why you’re at Joel’s house instead of your own. You needed a momentary reprieve. Separated by nothing more than a thin fence and yet it makes all the difference. Joel’s backyard is quiet, serene. He keeps his fence lined with flowers that he had you pick out at the nursery, he has a nice deck with a comfortable patio furniture set. You rock back and forth in one of the chairs as you smoke, promising yourself after this cigarette - or maybe just one more - you’ll go back to the party. 
The glass patio door slides open, causing you to jump and scramble to put your cigarette out, but you’re too late. Joel’s always a step ahead, somehow. “What are you doin’, kiddo?” he asks in a low, accusatory tone. 
“Nothing,” you lie. 
“You’re smokin’.”
You hang your head. Joel sits in the chair next to you and holds out his hand, palm facing up. You sigh and place your pack in his hand. “I’m sorry.” 
“Uh-huh,” Joel says. “Why’re you still doin’ this? You’re poisoning yourself, sweetheart. It’s breakin’ my heart.” 
You shrug. “I don’t know,” you admit. You open your mouth to speak again, then exhale when you give up. 
“I want you to try,” he urges. “Jus’ talk to me, hon, you’re not in trouble right now. Tell me what’s goin’ on.” 
“Okay,” you nod. You take a deep breath, then begin to explain. “I want to quit, Joel. I do. I tried gum and patches…”
“Go on. I’m listenin’.” 
“They worked for a while, I guess. I was even able to stop entirely, get past the nicotine withdrawals. They weren’t even so bad.” 
“Right,” Joel nods, “But what?”
“It’s stupid.” 
“S’not stupid. Keep tellin’ me.” 
“I missed the ritual of it all, if that makes sense,” you confess. “ Lighting it, holding it. Watching the smoke. Feeling it in my mouth.” You find the courage to look at Joel, and he’s not making fun of you for your admission. He’s nodding along, listening intently. “It’s sort of soothing.” 
“I get it,” he says. “I do.”
“You do?”
“Mhm. S’called an oral fixation, sweetheart. Means it calms ya down to have somethin’ in that mouth of yours. You heard of it?” You shake your head no, and Joel explains further. “Same reason some people bite their nails or chew on straws. Jus’ somethin’ people do.” 
“Oh.” 
“Mhm. You should try keepin’ your mouth busy with somethin’ else.” 
Your mouth goes dry, and you feel yourself becoming flustered. “Joel…” you whisper. 
“Quite the imagination you got there, huh?” he smirks, nudging your knee with his own. “M’not talkin’ about that, dirty bird. Do you have a sweet tooth at all?”
“Um,” you hum, “I guess.” 
“I got a sweet tooth myself,” Joel replies. “C’mon inside.” 
Joel leads you inside, and he doesn’t bother to sneakily throw your cigarettes in the trash. He makes sure you can see it, hear the thud of the pack hitting the bottom of the can. You stand in his kitchen as he opens his freezer and rifles through some items. “Pick a flavor,” he says, “I got green apple, grape, cherry, and lemon.” 
“Cherry,” you answer. 
Joel pulls out a cherry-flavored popsicle and unwraps it for you. “Open,” he says, then places the cold, sweet and tart ice on your tongue. Your hand brushes his when you grab the wooden stick, watching him. You can see the way his pupils dilate when you suck on it, how his chest rises when he sucks in a deep breath. Joel feels his cock begin to thicken in his jeans and abruptly clears his throat. “So, uh, anyway,” he stutters, “It helps to suck on somethin’ sweet. I’ll keep my freezer stocked with these for ya, you just let me know if you have any flavor requests. You help yourself anytime you’re havin’ one of your cravings.”
You pull the popsicle from your mouth, your lips stained red. “Thanks, Joel,” you smile. 
“You’d best get back to that party, hon. I’ll catch up with ya in a minute, nature’s callin’,” he teases, quickly excusing himself into his nearby bathroom. He hears you giggle and whine, “Gross,” as you leave his house. Joel watches you through the frosted bathroom window as you sneak back into the party. He’s palming his growing bulge, pressing his hand firmly against it until he can’t see you anymore, then quickly unzips his jeans and pulls out his cock, leaking and hard. He spits into his hand and strokes himself, his rough palm sliding up and down his thick, veiny cock, squeezing hard. He pumps himself and groans when he comes, spilling into his palm and on his fingers. Joel washes his hands, tucks himself back into his jeans and makes his way back to the barbecue. 
-
You’re in Joel’s truck. It was a long day of work, the phone was ringing nonstop and you could hardly catch a break, though Joel gave you extra time on your lunch to make up for the crappy day. He has you helping him out with his contracting job, having you answer phones and schedule estimates and whatnot. He likes having you around, giving you a little money to burn as you expand your resume. 
At six, Joel tossed you his truck keys and told you he’d be right out there, but that he’s gotta finish up with a client real quick first. “Go ‘head and start up the truck for me, hon, I’ll be out there soon. Shouldn’t be more than ten minutes,” he promised. But that was an hour ago, and it’s beginning to get dark. You’re itching to leave. On days you work with Joel, he’s your ride. Oftentimes it’s a blessing as he’s the one paying for gas and driving through traffic, but other times, it’s a curse. You’re on Joel’s time, itching to leave and he’s…doing whatever he’s doing.
You’re getting that feeling again. You’re not sure why, but it’s been happening more and more lately. You’ve been absolutely craving a cigarette recently. Just one, maybe two. You shouldn’t have done it, but you bought a pack at the gas station. Promised yourself you’d save it for special occasions but after this pack, you’d be done. For good. 
You’re just dying for one right now. Turning the pack over in your hand, you watch, anticipating seeing Joel leaving the building. But it never happens. Fuck it. You take a cigarette out of your pack and place it between your lips, and just before you light it, you stop. You look around in his truck, see if he’s got a straw from a fast food restaurant in his glove box that you could chew on, maybe a toothpick. At least you tried. It certainly doesn’t help that it smells like cigarette smoke in here anyway, what with Tommy always smoking when he drives with Joel. You resign yourself to lighting the cigarette, inhaling that smoke you missed so much. That familiar burn doesn’t quite hurt the same way it used to and in fact, it’s a welcome pain now. You love that tingly, heady feeling of the nicotine entering your bloodstream. You exhale the smoke out of the window of the truck and close your eyes. 
You think about lots of things, what you’re gonna eat for dinner when you get home, what movie you’re gonna watch. What flavor popsicle you’ll steal from Joel’s freezer. You think about which vibrator you’re gonna use between your thighs, which ones are charged and which aren’t. 
You’re not being subtle. Shamelessly blowing smoke out of the window, Joel can see you. And in fact, he’s been watching you. He’s fuming as he walks toward his truck and opens his door, startling you and causing you to drop the lit cigarette on your lap. “You are un-fuckin’-believable,” he seethes as he leans over you to pick it up off of your thighs and tosses it out of the window. “In my truck? Are you fuckin’ serious?”
“Joel, I’m sorry–”
“Shut up,” he interrupts. “You pissed me off. I don’t wanna hear it.” 
You shrink into your seat and stare at your lap, anxiously circling your thumbs around each other as Joel breathes deeply. He leans back in the driver’s seat and pinches the bridge of his nose, groaning angrily. 
“Joel–”
“Don’t.”
In Joel’s head, he counts backwards from ten, attempting to let go of some of his rage. He looks at you, your eyes are big and pleading, those plump lips of yours are pouting, just begging, aching for something to fit snugly between them. “What am I gonna do with you, kiddo,” he whispers, reaching for your face and cupping your cheek. Fuck, that goddamn soft spot he has for you. “All sorts ‘a trouble you could go an’ get yourself into and you pick the one that’s makin’ you sick.” 
You nod, feeling guilty for putting Joel through this stress. You know he’s right. You’re gonna drive him to pick up the addiction again himself.
He rubs his calloused thumb back and forth over your cheekbone, looking at you with those big, brown eyes of his. They’re sparkling under the diminishing daylight, looking darker than they usually do. He’s so handsome. He’s always been so handsome. 
“Maybe you need to get into a different kinda trouble,” Joel murmurs. 
You pause. “Like what?”
“You know what kinda trouble,” he answers softly, assertively. You look down at his lap and notice that with his free hand, he’s begun palming his crotch, cock hardening in his jeans. “Somethin’ else to satisfy that fuckin’ fixation of yours.”
Joel unzips his jeans and pulls his cock out, half hard and growing. “Gimme your hand,” he instructs. He doesn’t wait for you to comply, and takes the pack of Marlboros you had forgotten you were holding out of your hand. He takes your hand and first spits in it, then wraps it around his cock, his fingers wrapped around your wrist as he helps you stroke him. His cock grows to full length in your hand, so thick and hard and meaty. “On your knees, now,” he says. “C’mon. You know what you’re doin’.” 
You sink to your knees and Joel slides to the center of the seat so you’re as close to him as can be. He spreads his legs apart and you slot yourself snugly between them, a hand on each one of his thick thighs. It feels surreal, being in this position. Joel senses your nervousness, and you look so vulnerable on your knees for him. Poor thing. 
He leans forward a little to tangle his fingers in your hair and then pulls you down, ushering you toward his hard cock. “Open up f’me,” he says. You part your lips and he presses the warm, blunt head against them. You open your jaw wider and he pushes you down on his cock, filling your mouth entirely. “Nice an’ wide. That’s it.” 
Joel keeps pushing you down, past the point of comfortability and you choke and sputter on his cock when he hits the back of your throat. “Just relax a minute,” Joel says. “An’ breathe through your nose, kiddo. You’ll get used to it.” 
With his hand tangled in your hair, it’s less of you moving of your own volition and more of Joel guiding you, making you take him down your throat the way he wants you to. You like that. As your head dips lower and bobs back up again, you swirl and drag your tongue along his shaft, tasting that heady, musky flavor of his cock, the salty precum when your tongue slides over his small slit.“Yeah, you know what to do,” Joel groans. “Ohh, that’s it. Good girl.” 
You feel his cock pulsing under your tongue, a welcome experience. There’s something so intimate and satisfying about learning all of the exact, fine details of what Joel’s pleasure looks and tastes like. He rolls his hips to meet you where you’re at, taking control of his pleasure, doing all the work himself. Sweat is beginning to gather on his body, dripping down his temples and gathering on his soft tummy. He can’t help but feel a little like he’s taking advantage of you right now, but he doesn’t feel bad enough to stop. In fact, it turns him on more. Joel thinks that maybe it even turns you on, too, what with the way you let out quiet, sweet little moans. “You like it, don’t you, baby?” 
“Mm-hmm,” you hum. 
“I know you do,” Joel coos. “Feels good, don’t it?”
You nod your head, moaning as you slide your tongue along his length, swirling it around his head before dipping lower again, your nose buried in those thick curls spattered around the base of his cock, dampened by your saliva. “What a mess you’re makin’,” Joel murmurs, enjoying those wet, sloppy noises you’re making. “Such a good girl f’me, you’re takin’ it so good.” 
You reach for his balls, cupping them and rolling them gently in your palm, eliciting a sharp gasp from Joel. “Oh, fuck,” he groans, “That’s it, kiddo, keep doin’ it jus’ like that. Goddamn.” 
Joel basks in the feeling of being inside your hot, wet mouth, feeling you suck and slobber on him, the dizzying feeling of your tongue teasing his shaft and his head. It’s all so soft, so slick and warm. He can feel it in his stomach, his balls begin to tighten as he approaches release. Joel takes your head in both of his big, masculine hands and fucks your mouth hard. “Oh, Christ,” he hisses. “Fuck, ohhh, fuck.” 
With just a few more deep, frenetic thrusts, Joel comes in your mouth without a warning, just a guttural, deep groan. He paints your tongue with his hot, salty spend, ropes and ropes of it spurting from his thick, twitching cock. He fucks your mouth through his orgasm, his thrusts turning slower, more shallow in time as you take every last bit of his come, swallowing it all. 
“Up,” he tells you, his voice raspy. “C’mere.” 
You sit next to Joel as he comes down from his high, his deep breathing beginning to regulate. Joel looks at you, wipes a bit of his come from your bottom lip with his thumb and pushes it inside your mouth, where you suck the digit and lick the spend. “S’all you needed, huh? My cock in your mouth?” Your face is hot and a little damp with sweat, your lips all swollen as you nod, a little sheepish. “No need to be bashful, sweetheart. S’okay. F’it works, it works.” 
Joel adjusts his jeans and turns up the air conditioner, then scoots back over into the driver’s seat. He pulls you close to his body, tucking you into his side as he shifts the truck into reverse, then drives out of the parking lot. “When that fixation of yours starts actin’ up again or you’re gettin’ nicotine cravings, you to come to me. Will you do that for me, sweetheart?”
You nod. “I will.” 
“Good girl,” he says. “I’ll get ya taken care of.” 
-
Your craving for a cigarette hits as early as the following night. To test you, Joel had surreptitiously dropped your last pack of cigarettes in your purse last night in his truck. You only noticed a little bit ago, when you were digging through your belongings to find your lip gloss. You could smoke them if you wanted to. You do want to. You could be sneakier about it, go for a walk and smoke somewhere Joel won’t see you. 
You slip on a pair of sneakers and throw a light sweatshirt over your shoulders, then walk out of your room and past your father in the living room. “Where you off to, sweetie?” he asks. 
“Just for a walk,” you answer quickly. To be honest, you weren’t expecting him to be awake. It’s late and the TV’s on, which usually means he’s sleeping. He can’t stay awake through any movie or TV show. 
“Mm,” he hums. “Be safe, honey. Come back soon, I don’t like you out too late all by yourself.” 
You promise your dad you’ll be back soon, then leave out of your front door and make a left. As you walk past your yard, then Joel’s, you realize he’s in his garage, tinkering with something at his workbench. He doesn’t see you, and you could walk on by without him noticing, smoke your secret cigarette and he’d be none the wiser. 
But you’d feel guilty. You feel guilty for even thinking about it. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, contemplating. Maybe Joel’s right, that you need to get yourself into a different kind of trouble. You used to feel thrilled when you’d drink underage or smoke when you shouldn’t have been. But Joel’s cock down your throat, on your knees for your dad’s best friend, a man who’s like a second father to you…Well, nothing compared to that thrill. 
You walk up Joel’s driveway and quietly into his garage, he’s got an old CD player on and he’s listening to Nirvana. “Joel?”
Joel turns to look over his shoulder and smiles at you. “Hey, you.” 
“I…” you struggle to get the words out. Joel nods in understanding, he knows exactly why you’re here. You’re such a good girl for him. Always been a good girl.
Joel pauses his CD player and takes your hand, then leads you inside his house. When you’ve finished sucking his cock, he tells you he’s glad you came to him and that he’s very proud of you. On your way home, you throw that pack of Marlboros away. And for once, you really are done. 
You suck his cock the next week at work, when you’re watching Tommy take a smoke break through the window next to your desk. You’re on the phone with one of Joel’s clients who’s been giving both you and him trouble all week, and you’re reaching the end of your rope with this guy. He’s old, impatient, and speaks so rudely to you. After you’ve argued with him in circles for about twenty minutes, he interrupts you and demands that you put him on the phone with a man. You’re livid. “Absolutely, sir. Let me place you on a brief hold and I’ll transfer you to my boss,” you tell him as sweetly. You press a few buttons on the phone and slam it on your desk, then march into Joel’s office, slamming the door and then locking it. 
Joel’s eyes light up. He rolls back in his chair and reaches behind himself to twist the blinds shut, then unzips his pants as you drop to your knees .
The routine happens day to day, week to week. Joel notices that there are days when you suck his cock aggressively, like you’re angry or you’re restless and antsy. But after a few weeks, they don’t quite feel that way anymore. You focus on his pleasure, and not your need to curb an addiction. It felt satisfying to have Joel’s cock down your throat before, and that certainly helped to satisfy your particular fixation. You’re more satisfied now at the notion of bringing Joel to absolute ecstasy, memorizing the way his breathing changes when you trace your tongue along his shaft and around his head. You’ve begun kissing up and down his length, gently sucking his balls and kissing his thighs, his tummy. You used to grip his thighs tight, digging your fingers into his flesh, but you hold his hand, now. It’s passion, adoration, maybe even love. You deserve the same pleasure, Joel thinks. 
Your dad’s out of town for a few days, he’s staying overnight in some city a few hours away for some work conference. He had stocked the fridge with different snacks and had tasked Joel with making sure you have something hot and filling each night for dinner, so you’ve spent the past few evenings at Joel’s house. 
 You’re on Joel’s couch, watching old reruns of Will and Grace on TV as Joel does the dishes. When he’s done, he joins you on the couch. When the show pauses for a commercial break, Joel mutes the TV. “Wanna talk to you ‘bout somethin’,” he says. You turn your attention to him. Joel’s hand drops to your thigh, and he scratches your skin lazily. His touch sends a jolt of excitement to your core. “You’ve been real good f’me, you know that, don’t you?” 
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. Been a long time since your last cigarette, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you reply, “Couple months, I think.” 
“S’what I thought,” he whispers. “An’ it’s why I wanna do somethin’ for ya.” 
“Do what?”
“Well,” Joel begins, inhaling deeply. His hand goes higher with every pass, fingers closer and closer to the apex of your thighs. You’re starting to feel hot. “I think it’s awful unfair ‘a me to be leavin’ you high and dry the way I’ve been. Not very gentlemanly, huh?” 
Joel’s fingers are wiggling beneath the fabric of your shorts, gently skating along your thin cotton panties. “Joel,” you whine. 
“I’m gonna make it even,” he murmurs softly into your ear, his hot breath tickling your neck. Joel drags the tip of his sharp, aquiline nose over the curve of your ear, then gently bites your earlobe, causing you to squirm. He smirks at that. “Gonna taste you.” 
Joel hovers over you, laying your body across his soft couch. He kneels as he hooks his fingers around your shorts and panties and pulls them down and off your legs, tossing them on the floor. 
His warm, big hands slide up your legs until he reaches your knees, “Spread your legs for me, sweetheart,” he says, and you part your thighs for him. He spreads them wider, pushing your knees toward your chest. Your nerves are on fire as he slides your shirt up your chest, exposing your bare body to him. “C’mere,” he mumbles, dipping his head low to kiss all over your torso, up your belly until he reaches the soft flesh of your breasts, nipping at the skin there before he sucks a nipple into his mouth. 
“Joel,” you gasp, your hands reaching for his head, fingers tangling in his thick, graying curls. He smirks against you as he kisses his way across to your other breast, repeating the same actions and kissing, licking down your stomach until he’s hovering over your pussy. Under the soft, warm light in the room, he admires your body. Your chest is rising and falling with shaky, nervous breaths. Your legs spread wide gives Joel the perfect view of your pussy, curls framing the shape of your cunt. Skin darkened and glistening wet, pearly ribbons of arousal delicately decorating your slick folds. He can’t wait any longer, he needs to taste you now. 
Joel quickly pulls his shirt off and unbuckles his belt, then kicks his jeans off where they join the rest of the discarded clothes on the floor. He settles on his stomach and pulls your body close to his face, his hot breath fanning over your damp, aching pussy. To tease you, he kisses his way toward your center, inching closer and closer to where you need him most yet not giving all the way in. “Please, Joel,” you whine. 
“Ohh, I know,” he rasps. He kisses the other thigh, then uses his thumbs to spread your soft folds apart for easier access and licks one long, fat stripe up your pussy. “Oh my god, yes,” you gasp. Joel chuckles at your excitement. He traces up and down with his tongue, his nose buried in the hair that covers your mound. You rock your hips into his face and he holds you tight, limiting your movement so that he holds all control. He’s feeling generous, and you’re going to take all that he gives you. 
“Fuck, right there,” you whimper when he licks your clit in circles. His tongue dips lower, circling your tight, wet hole before dipping inside to taste your sweet arousal. Joel hums in pleasure, he loves everything about this - the way you writhe and moan, how your dripping pussy feels against his face. He dips his tongue and swirls it inside of you before replacing it with two of his calloused, weathered fingers, rhythmically curling them inside you so that he’s hitting your g-spot. 
You’re moaning, babbling his name along with some other dirty words as Joel licks you and pumps his fingers, soaking him so intensely he thinks he could drown. He’d be happy to. There’s nothing he loves more than eating you out right now, passionately lapping your cunt like you’re the first meal he’s had in days. Your moans are becoming quicker, more frantic as you reach for his free hand and suck and bite his fingertips - always needing something in your mouth. He knows you’re close. Joel focuses on bringing you to the edge and sending you over, unwaveringly fucking you with his fingers and his tongue as your thighs are trembling and twitching, then squeezing the sides of his head as you come hard for him. “Joel,” you cry loudly. 
“Yeah, s’it. Give it to me, kiddo. That’s it,” he praises, “Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl.” 
Joel works you through your orgasm until the feeling subsides, and then pulls away from you. As you steady your breathing, you close your legs gingerly, hips sore from the position Joel held you in. Joel holds your knee, preventing you from moving any further. “Where do you think you’re goin’?”
“You made it even,” you breathe, reaching for his hand and placing yours on top.
“Nuh-uh, sweetheart. We ain’t square yet,” Joel spreads your legs again, then reaches for his cock. It’s rock-hard, the tip is blushed and swollen as he pumps it with his fist. “You gotta come on my tongue a couple more times than that before we’re even. And-” he grunts, adjusting his position before lowering himself over your body. He wraps your legs around his waist and notches his tip inside of you, “M’only a man. I’m gettin’ mine tonight too.” 
With that, he begins to push himself inside you. That slow, deep slide inside your cunt has him groaning in pleasure, Christ, you’re fucking tight. And so warm, soft, and wet. You squeal a bit as you adjust to the feeling of his cock inside of you, his cock splitting you open. “Shhh…” Joel quiets your moans. “Give it a minute, kiddo, you’ll get used to it.” 
You watch Joel as he slowly pulls out of you about halfway, then inches his way back inside you incrementally, little by little until your face relaxes and you let out that first sigh of pleasure. “Oh, there it is,” Joel coos. “Right there, huh?”
You nod, then wrap your arms around Joel's broad shoulders as he sets a steady pace. It’s slow, but not quite gentle at first, before it builds to something faster and harder. He rolls his hips at the perfect angle to have you squirming and writhing in pleasure, the head of his cock kissing that sweet spot inside of you over and over. You bury your face into him, biting softly where his neck and shoulders meet. His skin is so soft, slightly salty under your tongue. 
“Fuck, good girl,” he praises, kissing the side of your head where your hair is slightly damp with sweat. With each of his thrusts, you feel every inch of him. The scruff on his face brushing against you, his weight on your body, his skin on your skin, his pubic bone grinding against you. He fucks you passionately, sometimes quickening his thrusting, sometimes slowing it down, fucking you with longer, slower strokes. You bask in the sensation, entirely consumed in it all, in Joel. “You’re doin’ so good.” 
You rock your hips to match each one of his thrusts, needing more friction against your clit. “M-more, Joel,” you beg. “I wanna come. Please, Joel, make me come again.” 
Still fucking you, Joel spits onto his fingertips and wriggles his hand between your body. He searches for your swollen, sensitive bud and then paints steady circles into it, using the motion of his thrusting to help bring you to the edge once more. “Right there,” you tell him. “Don’t stop, please.” 
“I know, I gotcha,” he says. “Go ‘head and come for me, baby. Come all over my cock.”
You’re right there, right fucking there as he rounds your clit again and again with his fingers. Your reaction is more intense than before; your moans are louder now, pleading, more urgent. Your brows are knit together, mouth wide open when you go quiet - you’re gonna come, and it’s gonna be long and fiery and intense. 
Pure, unadulterated pleasure is all you feel when you finally reach your climax, moans and whimpers falling from your lips like honey until you’re crying Joel’s name, begging him as he fucks you through it. Begging for what, you don’t know. “Joel, Joel, Joel.” 
Your orgasm propels Joel’s own, and he’s growling into your ear as he spills into you, milking himself entirely. His come feels so warm inside you, so satisfying. “Oh, fuck me. Jesus, hon,” he groans. “Ohhh, god.” 
His thrusts slow, slow, then stop. He whimpers a little when he pulls out of you, then sits back on the couch. His head resting against the back of it, he turns to you. His eyes travel down your body, where some of his spend drips from your pussy. He pushes it back inside you, finger buried all the way to the knuckle, then pulls you into his side. 
“You’re gonna kill me,” he says, his voice low and gravelly. 
You look up at him, “Why?” 
Joel smirks. “ Could use a cigarette,” he answers. “Hits the spot right after sex.”
“Fuck off,” you giggle. “You said we’re done.” 
“We are done,” he affirms. “But our deal’s still in place. Which means…” Joel gently pushes you onto your stomach, then pulls you up by your hips. “We’re goin’ for another round.” 
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If you enjoyed, please reblog/send an ask with some nice comments! Your words keep me motivated to write.
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generalsmemories · 7 months
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sensitive
✧ sunday x gn!reader
✧ synopsis: the wings by his ears are far too sensitive for what you're both about to do to them.
✧ contents: just a lil scenario for the piercings on sunday's wings. and the hc (that has probs become every writers canon take) that his wings are oh so sensitive. established relationship, mildly suggestive cause why not, uhh, mentions of blood? sunday being utterly weak against his lover. ooc sunday cause goddamn i have NOTHING on this man.
✧ a/n: breathes in. listen i don't believe in any god but good lord i would start praying for this man if he asked me to.
jing yuan wips still in order, i just want to be on my best self mentally when writing for my eepy general so have this brainrot so i can function this week at my work and hopefully i'll write something more <3 thank you once again for your patience!
NOT BETA-READ THIS WAS WRITTEN WITHIN AN HOUR CAUSE THIS BRAINROT HAS BEEN BREWING INSIDE THE MIND FOR A MONTH, IM SORRY FOR THE ALL OVER THE PLACE WORDS - I HAVEN'T WRITTEN SINCE THE LAST JING YUAN ANGST PIECE.
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Your fingertips have barely grazed the very edges of the feathers when the distinguished leader beneath you flinches in surprise. The fingers that grip your hips tightening further which causes your body that was previously hovering above him to settle down on Sunday's leg. You can hear a tiny sigh leaving his lips before you feel his head rest against your shoulder, the action causing you to chuckle.
"The longer you delay this, the more nervous you'll get, you know?" you muse, threading your fingers through his hair in an effort to coax him to lay back in the same position he previously was in. You're barely able to touch his right wing again before a gloved hand shoots up from his side and you feel a sharp nip at your neck in warning - causing you to immediately halt all of your actions.
"It would've gone a lot faster have you decided to not do it in such an orthodox method, dear." Sunday retaliates with a sigh, pecking the bite mark as some sort of apology, an apology that you knew was not sincere in the slightest.
You giggle once again, settling down comfortably on his legs whilst slightly leaning back to fully look at your lover. Your arms loop over his neck while cocking your head to the side in slight confusion, although said confusion doesn't reach your mischievous eyes or the huge grin on your face. "Why I thought this would help calm you? It was your idea to pierce these wings of yours after all," you remind him, tapping the piercing gun that you're currently holding onto on his shoulder.
The man before you sighs, seemingly in exasperation over your usual antics whilst shrugging away the piercing gun that you're continuously tapping him with. You can however clearly see the slight reddening on top of his ears, while his wings tuck a bit behind his ears - clearly a signal that he's feeling a bit embarrassed.
"You're well aware of the effect you have on me, my love." he admits, the hand on your hip moving from its spot to instead rest against your neck. "Hmm? Then I suggest that you hurry along to let me pierce your wings before said effect makes you lose your patience," you tease with a quiet laugh. "I do have a lot of experience with this lil' gun of ours after all." you cheekily say - causing Sunday to direct his gaze towards your own ears, which have a few more piercings than your average person.
"... I'm well aware." Sunday replies.
Well aware of how sensitive your own ears are, almost as sensitive as his own wings that have yet to be pierced. He could let out a breath beside them which causes you to tremble, a small peck would make you gasp softly, but if he were to use his tongue-
"You're thinking of inappropriate things again, dear." you mutter into his ears before unlooping your arms from his neck to rest against your sides, your whole weight supported by the singular hand Sunday has on your hip.
"Hardly."
For someone not of Halovian descent, you're somehow able to discern his thoughts immediately - quite a hassle to be honst.
"Well then, my dear? Why don't you relax so we can get this over with so you can return to your duties?" you whisper, moving your body to sit between his legs so that you can get a closer look on his right wing, where he preferred the piercing to be on.
"... Just- don't say anything when you're about to do- Ah!"
The single clicking noise of the needle piercing his wing before retracting back to it's original spot makes Sunday jolt in surprise, the grip on your hip increasing in pressure, but you're too busy looking at the placement in glee to care for your distraught lover right now.
You notice the edges of the piercing reddening a bit, extending your finger to gather the tiny bits of blood that had escaped from the wound. Glancing at Sunday, you notice his slightly glossy eyes that immediately diverts from your gaze.
The quiet laugh you let out makes Sunday glare at you, but his eyes widen slightly when you lick his blood away from your fingertips with closed eyes. "It wasn't that bad, was it?" you ask, opening your eyes again to lock eyes with Sunday, diverting your gaze slightly to his right wing.
You decide not to comment on his glossy eyes, deciding to instead scoot closer to peck the corner of his eyes, "Sorry that I surprised you, but as you said - Doing it this way is far more convenient for the both of us," you explain, lips pressing against Sunday's to coax him into relaxation.
"Mhm, thank you for indulging me, dove." he whispers, arms wrapping around your waist, the tension in his shoulders finally leaving.
"Although..." you murmur in between various pecks against Sunday's lips, your lover raising an eyebrow up in confusion and imploring you to continue speaking.
"I think you said you would go for 2 of the same piercings if the first one looked nice, no?" you say before pressing your lips against his once again. Sunday was barely able to understand the meaning behind your words before he could feel the same pain of the needle shoot through his already overly-sensitive wing.
The loud gasp he lets out is swallowed by your lips, his open mouth letting your tongue slip inside while the piercing gun in your hand slips away from your lips now that you've done your part of the deal. Your hands settle themselves against Sunday's cheeks now- wiping away the few tears that have now slipped down from his glossy eyes with your thumb.
There's a certain desperation in Sunday's hands by your waist. He had first bunched the material of your clothes upwards by surprise, but now he's slipping his gloved hands beneath them and quickly traveling further up - he moves in a way that you don't know if he's trying to push you away to scold you, or press you closer to him to feel your warmth.
He eventually decides to push you away. His cheeks are reddened and he's heaving for breaths while he's glaring down at you in mild disappointment and a hint of excitement - and yet the hands that's dragging the buttons of your shirt from inside to snap them open tells another desire from the esteemed leader of Penacony.
The same mischievous smile is present on your lips when you part ways, your lips are a bit swollen but it doesn't stop their journey from grazing against his now incredibly sensitive right wing, the jerk of his entire body not bothering you in the slightest as your lips glide over his feathers, your lover shuddering a bit when you let out a breath right over his newly pierced wings.
"All done now, my love," you mutter into his ear, shrugging off your now ruined shirt off of one shoulder, "Do I get any reward for doing this so smoothly and quickly?"
Sunday lets out a scoff, rolling his eyes at your triumphant expression before shoving you down onto the couch the two of you were previously resting on. "I'm thinking a punishment is more fitting for how you didn't warn me of your actions twice, no?"
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May I have Childhood friends to lovers with Loki or Bruce Wayne pleaseee… thank you!
.⋆。For the Longest Time。⋆.
Bruce Wayne x plus size reader
You were always there in his life, just like he was for you. A little jealousy and a clingy eight year old might finally give you the push you both need
Warnings: fluff, jealousy, simp!Bruce, vague mention of hook-ups, little bit of Dick’s abandonment issues, mutual pining WC: 2.5k
6k Follower Celebration Bingo
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“Where’s Y/N?” A little voice spoke up from somewhere over Bruce’s left shoulder. He groaned and buried his face deeper in the silk pillowcase, he had only just crawled into bed. The mattress dipped as Dick hauled himself onto the bed, making Bruce swallow down a curse.
“What’s up?” He rolled onto his back and pulled back the blankets enough for a little body to slip under the covers. He received a kick to his very sore ribs as Dick clambered over him in his attempt to settle in the crook of Bruce’s shoulder. The eight year old sighed happily and cuddled up close to his adoptive father.
Bruce smiled despite the throbbing pain in his torso and the early wake up. “What did you need?” 
“Where’s Y/N?” He asked again, propping his chin on Bruce’s collarbone.
“She’s at her apartment?” His voice tilted up, confused at the question. Sure, you were at the manor quite frequently given that you helped Bruce with Dick’s care but you had never stayed the night, save for once when both you and Bruce were too drunk to even move.
Dick huffed, his bottom lip poking out as he looked away from Bruce. “That’s stupid.” The older man swallowed back a chuckle, instead he placed a hand on the boy’s back, his palm almost covering the entire thing. 
“Why’s it stupid?” He shut his eyes again. 
“Cause I want her to live with me!” 
“Hmm, maybe you can go live with her and I can finally get some sleep.” Tiny fingers dug into his armpit, making Bruce yelp and raise an eyebrow at Dick.
“No. I don’t wanna move my toys. Make her live here.” Bruce sighed heavily, sinking further into his mattress.
Yeah, right. He wanted to say but held his tongue. He had broached the idea when he had first taken Dick in, needing an extra set of hands for the rowdy child but you had quite literally laughed him off, just the same as you did when you were both eighteen and he had tried to give you one of his credit cards. You were fiercely independent and while you loved Dick, you still had your own work and life.
“You could try, chum but I think she likes her house more.” 
“Then let’s go there today!” Dick pushed himself up onto his knees, eyes shining with this brilliant idea. 
“Chum-“ But Dick had rushed out of the room before Bruce could get another word out, leaving him to contemplate whether he was going to break his son’s heart by falling back asleep or get up for the day and end up with a massive headache later. Distantly, he could hear Dick chattering away to himself and he knew he would have to raid your medicine cabinet in a few hours.
——————
Dick practically flew up the stairs of your apartment building, his backpack rattling with the sound of loose Lego bricks and inevitably a book he would get you to read him, as Bruce trailed behind, dark sunglasses perched on the end of his nose. He himself held a bag of food from Alfred and a bottle of your favourite wine as a sorry for the unexpected visit. He could at least pat himself on the back for delaying Dick just long enough for the boy to get some food and Bruce to get a couple hours of sleep.
“Come on! You’re so slow!” Dick whined as he reached the landing on your floor. He bounced on the balls of his feet before he huffed and threw open the door, darting down the empty hallway. The rattling of his bag grew distant and then, he was banging on your door with all the might his little fists could muster.
“Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” Bruce cringed, his head ducked down as he passed by the other apartments on your floor, silently apologising to each of them. 
“Chum you can’t-“ But your door opened right then and the breath was knocked from his lungs. You were wearing a dark red dress that perfectly matched the matte lipstick on your plump lips. The fabric perfectly clung to you, making your curves even more prominent. You were still wearing your slippers and only had one earring in but you were still the most beautiful thing Bruce had ever seen, just as you always had been.
“Well isn’t this a surprise.” Dick wasted no time, throwing himself into your arms, he squealed loudly and buried his face in the crook of your neck. You laughed as his little fingers dug into the neckline of your dress, no doubt ruining the fabric. “I thought there was a monkey at my door with all that noise.” You ran your left hand along his side as you stood up, making Dick giggle and cling to you even tighter. In a couple months, Bruce doubted you’d be able to pick him up anymore.
“I missed you!” You beamed. Bruce felt his knees buckle.
“It’s a good thing you came over then, cause I missed you too!” 
Bruce cleared his throat. “I hope I can be included in that sentiment as well.” You finally looked up at him, your eyes shining like stars. You smirked, biting down on your lip as you gave the man a quick one over.
“Depends, what did you bring me?” 
“So my child doesn’t count?” Dick laughed again, his knees digging into your side. You raised an eyebrow at Bruce who lifted the bottle of wine with a sly smile.
“Why didn’t you start with that? Come on in.” You stepped back into the apartment, leaving the door open for him to follow behind. 
Your home had always been a comfort for Bruce, a safe haven tucked away from the world and his responsibilities. The weight of Batman and being the last Wayne, and even though he loved him dearly, being Dick’s father, lifted from his shoulders as the soft colours of your walls surrounded him. 
You wandered into the kitchen, like you normally did when they stopped by for a visit, Dick chattering away about anything and everything that came into his little mind while Bruce stopped to look at the new photos you had hung up in the living room. Photos of memories he had forgotten. There was one of the both of you in a pillow fort that towered over you, your faces slathered in chocolate from bags of candy at your feet. Another was the 3rd grade dance that your parents had chaperoned, you in a bright pink princess dress complete with fairy wings and a plastic tiara and him in a tiny suit with one of his father’s best ties that was far too big for him. Your high school graduation party where you and Bruce in all your drunken genius decided to race up one of the old trees on the Wayne property and got stuck at the top.
But the most recent one made his heart skip a beat; it was of all three of you curled up on your couch, Dick sound asleep on your lap as Bruce ‘rested his eyes’ while leaning on your shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around both of you as you beamed up at the camera. All of his happiest moments had you in them and for the life of him, he wouldn’t change anything about it.
Bruce turned and spotted your heels by the door, the red-bottomed ones that you only ever used when you wanted to get laid. Something in his stomach turned sour at the thought. “Why are you so dressed up?” He asked as casually as he could though his voice cracked. 
“Yeah! You look pretty!” Dick chirped though his own voice was muffled, no doubt you had already given him a cookie that he shouldn’t be having.
“I have a date,” You cooed (to Dick but Bruce liked to pretend it was for him), “but since you guys are here now. I’ll cancel it.”
“You don’t have to do that. We can go.” Relief made his shoulders sag but Bruce still forced a frown on his lips as you came back around the corner, Dick still perched on your wide hip. You were practically glowing with joy.
You waved him off and pressed a kiss to Dick’s chubby cheek, leaving a bright lipstick stain there. “I would much rather spend the evening with you guys. It also means I get to wear comfy clothes instead of this dumb dress.” Dick slipped from your arms and went to his bag, which he had dropped on the couch.
“Are you sure?” But that wasn’t the question he was really asking. You just smiled at him, putting a hand on his bicep as you leaned in close.
“There’s nowhere else I would rather be. Now let me get changed and we can watch a movie, how’s that sound bud?” Dick grumbled something to the affirmative, making you laugh to yourself as you turned to go to your room but not without a parting squeeze to Bruce’s arm. He watched you go, his gaze dropping to your ass to appreciate the sight for just a moment before he caught himself and turned his attention back to his son.
Dick, who was already observing his father with a curious expression, suddenly lit up with an idea. He covered his mouth with his hand and then disappeared as he fell back onto the cushions, a little laugh escaping him as he landed. Bruce ignored the boy and went to the kitchen to get some snacks together for all of you. 
The TV flicked to life, dousing the apartment with a hazy background noise that served to lead Bruce deeper into the fantasy of this life of domesticity actually being his. If he let himself, he could almost imagine how perfect it would be, just his family spending time together away from the rest of the world. But there was still that nagging fact that you had a date tonight, one that you cancelled for him sure, but a date nonetheless.
You weren’t his wife or his girlfriend, and that made his blood freeze.
He pulled out the cork from the bottle with perhaps a bit more force than necessary, sending a few drops of red liquid directly onto his white shirt. “Fuck.” He groaned and grabbed the dish towel on the counter to try and scrub away at the stain. 
“I can’t leave you alone for a second.” Your smaller hands gripped his waist, turning him around so you could take the towel from him. Bruce let you manhandle him until you could easily rub against his chest but the stain had already set in. Your bottom lip poked out, an almost overwhelming temptation to your oldest friend, before your fingers curled into his belt and tugged him away from the kitchen counter.
Bruce went willingly, eagerly. “I’ve got some of your shirts in my wardrobe, go get changed and I’ll finish up here.” He nodded blankly and wandered away from you.
You watched him go for just a moment before finishing pouring out the wine and laying some of the cheeses Alfred has so thoughtfully packed on a small tray. You grabbed some hopefully not stale crackers from the cabinet and journeyed back into the living room. “What are we watching tonight Dickie?”
Dick looked up from his spot between the couch and coffee table as you sat down with an almost bored expression on his little face. “Star Wars.”
“Duh.” You replied.
Soon Bruce wandered back in. “Why exactly do you have so many of my shirts in your closet?” You shrugged behind your glass, though he knew your cheeks were heated with embarrassment.
“Cause you’re clumsy and I knew I’d have to keep clean clothes for you.” He flopped down on the couch next to you, his arm immediately finding its place across your shoulders.
“Yeah right.” You curled into his side, settling in for a nice little evening.
It was halfway through the movie that Dick climbed onto the couch between you and his dad. “I wish we could stay like this forever.” He muttered wistfully, taking yours and Bruce’s hand into his. You looked at Bruce from over his little head.
“Aw buddy, we can do this whenever you want. You’re always welcome here, you know that.” He shook his head and Bruce's heart sank.
“What do you mean chum?” He asked, wondering if there was something more going on. Dick’s chest inflated as he took in a deep breath.
“But we always go home and you never come with us! You-you don’t really want us, you live so far away. And,” he sighed heavily, giving you the biggest, saddest puppy dog eyes he could muster, “and you go on dates with people who aren’t my dad. You’ll leave.” His grip on your hand tightened like you would disappear right then.
Bruce’s heart lurched as your lips parted. “You should date him instead! And then we can all live together at home like we should be!” Dick continued and then, he slammed your hand into Bruce’s, forcing your fingers to intertwine.
“Dickie-“
“No! You’re supposed to be together! Even Alfred says so! So just do it already and then we can go home. Together.” His gaze switched to Bruce, who caught his glare. The man swallowed thickly and looked at you and for the first time in his life, Bruce couldn’t tell what you were thinking.
You let out a shaky breath after a moment, your fingers pressing into the back of his hand. He could feel your pulse against his wrist, your heartbeat was fast, almost matching his own. “Maybe you’re right Dickie.”
“What?” The word escaped him like he had just been punched, making your lips curl up into a bashful smile. 
“Maybe, I should be dating you and not those other men who I always end up comparing to you anyway. Maybe I should be going home with you.” 
“I think maybe you should.” Bruce leaned over his son, his free hand coming up to hold your full cheek. “Because I have spent my whole life with you by my side and now that I’m thinking about it, I don’t want you so far away anymore. I want to see your face everyday and hear your voice from beside me every moment that I can.” 
Your eyes dropped to his lips and that was all it took for Bruce to close the distance and finally kissed you like he should have done years ago when he realised that no other woman would live up to the place you carved out in his heart. You immediately melted into him, laying your hand on top of his own. 
Just as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, Dick got up on his knees between you and threw his skinny arms around your necks. You separated just as he shouted, “I told you!” 
You both laughed and hugged him back, sinking back down into the couch all together. Bruce’s chest warmed. Maybe, finally, he could get you to come home.
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loudstan · 9 months
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How to (not) Write a Book
Summary: For Taeyong, asking his mate out was easy. The hard part was not fucking her brains out every time he saw her.
Pairing: Werewolf! Taeyong x Female reader
Warnings: uh...smut as usual. Y/N is horny, bubu snaps at some point and...yeah she fucks around and finds out I guess. Also I made him cry, sorry
 You wanted inspiration and you had found it alright. This town had everything you could need to write your next book: witches, vampires, werewolves and you had even heard you could stumble upon a few faes if you went deep into the forest, which was amazing because faes were becoming a popular topic in literature and your editor was pushing you to write about them.  
The cheap motel where you were staying(which was probably haunted), the lively streets, and even the coffee shop you had just found were out of this world; the cozy interior was illuminated by candles and plates filled with cake magically floated towards their designated table while the baristas prepared beverages that smelled heavenly. 
Too mesmerized by what was happening around you made your way to the counter without looking where you were going and accidentally bumped into a customer who was picking up his order.
“Sorry!” you quickly said. “My bad, I wasn’t paying atten–”
The customer turned around and gasped loudly, dropping his coffee. 
Ok? That was either a very delayed reaction, or you looked ugly enough to scare the poor guy as soon as he saw you. You didn’t want to cause trouble in a foreign land, so you quickly grabbed some tissues from the counter and tried your best to clean the stains of coffee on his clothes.
“I’m really sorry. I’ll buy you a new one,” you insisted, panicking at his lack of reaction. He was just standing there, frozen like a statue.
You finally looked at his face and it was now your turn to gasp.
He was the most alluring person you had ever seen. Was he a fae? A vampire? He had to be a creature who used his beauty to attract his prey, otherwise, it would make no sense that he looked like that. 
“You’re beautiful,” you blurted out and regretted it immediately. Who says that to a stranger?
The man’s eyes sparkled, and his cheeks turned pink as his mouth morphed into a grin. The sight of his pointed teeth heightened his charming face, which you could only describe as unfairly perfectly symmetrical. The universe really had its favorites. 
He didn’t only have natural beauty; his hair was also perfectly styled to match an attire, clearly tailored to his body, and his perfume overpowering the aroma of coffee smelled expensive.
You cleared your throat before trying to communicate once again. “Uh, sorry about that. Are you okay?”
 He licked his lips and his reddened eyes scanned your entire frame, but his only reply was what sounded like a satisfied hum. It was a simple sound, but it did something to you.
It sent shivers down your spine and your heart beat at an erratic pace. Your face felt hot and your body weakened, your legs trembled, and suddenly the room was spinning around you.
But the man’s arms held you in place before you fell flat on the floor and then he pressed your body against his with urgency. 
 His warmth added to the mixture of strange sensations, but even if your body wasn’t functioning properly, your brain was on high alert: if this man had caused you to react like this against your will, then he surely wasn’t human.
You let out a silent cry when his lips caressed your neck. 
Oh no. A vampire. Just your luck. You were going to die.
“I found you,” he murmured against your skin. His voice was way too raspy and deep for such a delicate face like his, and it made you tremble from head to toes. 
Your heart was beating so fast and hard you could hear it. You would probably have a heart attack before he killed you. You whimpered in fear, but a small part of you liked his warmth surrounding you. Why were you suddenly feeling…good? Now you had no doubt he was a vampire, playing with his food by making you feel pleasure before devouring you. 
“Why do you smell distressed?” He purred, sounding a little wounded, and then you felt teeth against your pulse. 
This was it. You couldn’t believe your life would end like this.
You sobbed quietly and closed your eyes, preparing for what was coming, but suddenly you were on the floor, away from the man’s hold. 
You blinked twice and slowly started becoming aware of what was happening around you; the customers and staff were screaming and backing away from the commotion, the beautiful man you had assumed was a vampire was on the floor too, in the opposite corner of the cafe.  Between you and him there was another young man, who the vampire was glaring at furiously.
“What the fuck, Mark?” he hissed.
Mark gulped. His pale face and tense posture showed he was terrified, but he didn’t back down. “Taeyong hyung, you need to calm down.”
“Move,” Taeyong growled.
“I really don’t think this is the right–Oh my god,” he whined when the older bore his teeth and stood up.
 Taeyong tried to walk towards you, but Mark blocked the way.
“Are you challenging your alpha?” Taeyong gnarled.
Mark shook his head but when Taeyong tried to push him out of the way, he locked his arms around the leader solidly and they both fell on the floor, wrestling as their roars made the store’s windows shake and people ran away in terror. 
You tried to get up too, but your legs wouldn’t respond and you could only watch in fear at the animalistic display of power in front of you. 
Soon Mark was forced into submission by Taeyong, but he still made weak attempts to stop him from reaching for you.
In that moment you heard hurried steps and three more men jumped on top of Taeyong, who was furious at their insolence. 
A black haired man checked on Mark, before turning to the source of the riot.
“Taeyong, stop!’
“You don’t tell me what to do, Doyoung,” Taeyong snarled, trying to free himself from his captors. “Get off me!” he growled, jabbing and kicking at them.
“Don’t do this, Taeyong. Not like this,” Doyoung begged, holding Taeyong’s face in his hands. “You’re scaring her.”
Something clicked in Taeyong he stopped struggling. He looked around and saw that the coffee shop had been destroyed, some people were hiding under the tables, and Mark’s lower lip was bleeding. Finally, his eyes landed on your terrified ones and he was consumed by shame and guilt.
“I–” he wanted to apologize, but his body was overwhelmed and before he could say another word, he fell unconscious in his friends’ arms.
The group of men holding him let out a synchronized sigh.  
“That was horrifying,” Mark was the first one to speak, sitting on a chair nearby and wincing in pain.
“Jungwoo, please take Mark to a healer,” Doyoung requested. “Johnny, Jaehyun! Help me take Taeyong home.”
“Sure, I think I could use a visit to the healer myself,” Jungwoo said, limping slightly while walking out with Mark. 
“I had never seen him this…feral,” Jaehyun said.
“He does get a bit too brutal during his rut, but this was…,” Johnny trailed off, not sure of how to finish that sentence. “If Mark hadn’t been here, that girl…”
“The girl!” Doyoung quickly turned around to check on you but you were nowhere to be found. “I guess she ran away…”
“Yeah, who wouldn’t?” Jaehyun asked rethorically, as they all carried their leader to the car. 
“I doubt she’ll want to see Taeyong after this,” Johnny said.
“She’ll understand once we explain it to her,” Doyoung assured them.
“If we manage to find her again,” Jaehyun murmured.
You had been holding your breath until you heard them leave, hiding behind the abandoned counter. 
“Thank god it’s over!” a relieved voice exclaimed next to you, making you jump and yelp. “Hey, it’s okay, I’m not dangerous! I was hiding here too! This is my coffee shop,” the man quickly explained. “My name is Taeil.”
“Oh– I’m Y/N…” you mumbled. “Sorry for the mess…”
“It’s not your fault, don’t worry. I’ll have a word with the pups later.”
“Pups?”
“Werewolves,” he said, grabbing a couple of cups from the shelf.
“Oh…OH! They said something about an alpha,” you remembered, trying to make sense of the whole situation. “So he wasn’t a vampire after all. He must have been close to his rut.”
“Yeah…you could say that,” the man partially agreed, offering you a cup of coffee. “On the house. This is embarrassing to admit but I’m a member of the pack who caused all this...”
“You’re a werewolf too?” you asked incredulously and let him guide you to a table that hadn’t been destroyed. “Then why were you hiding?”
“It was scary,” he shrugged and sat down across the table.
You let out an incredulous laugh and took a sip of your coffee. This guy was being serious but somehow he made everything sound hilarious. 
“Something’s different about you,” he suddenly said, observing you carefully. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
“I’m not,” you replied. “I’m here for business. I’m writing a book about some creatures that live here.”
“You’re a writer?”
“Something like that, yes,” you admitted, taking a sip of your coffee. “That’s why I came. I’m hoping to rent a place near the forest to observe the faes.”
“Faes?” Taeil’s lips turned downwards. “Those are a bit too dangerous, don’t you think?”
“I’ll be careful.”
“There are so many other creatures to write about,”  he insisted.
“I’m really interested in faes,” you said. “And there isn’t quite enough literature about them, so I thought I should talk to them in person to understand them better.”
“Talk to them?” he repeated incredulously. “You definitely shouldn’t do that…”
“I heard I can find some in the East Forest,” you pressed, ignoring his apprehension. “Is that true?”
“...It is,” he conceded. “But there aren’t any places to rent in there,” he quickly added.
“I’ll just camp in the woods,” you shrugged.
The man choked on his coffee and coughed loudly. “CAMP?” 
“Just until I finish my book.”
“Oh my god,” he shook his head. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah,” you replied without hesitation and finished your drink, ready to leave. “Thanks for the coffee, Taeil!”
“I HAVE A HOUSE FOR RENT! ” He blurted out in panic when he saw you standing up.
You raised your eyebrows. “You said there was no place available near the forest.”
“Technically, there isn’t…,” he sighed, brushing his hair with his fingers. “They don’t build homes near the forest because of the faes… but I own a little hut, not too deep into the woods, which I was using to store some stuff…”
“For real?” you asked excitedly. 
He nodded, taking out his phone and showing you some pictures of the place. It was a small, lovely, wooden hut surrounded by trees. 
“It’s not furnished, but I could get it ready for you in about a week,” the kind werewolf offered because he clearly didn’t want you to camp in the forest. “But you would have to promise me to stay inside the house at night.”
“Why?”
“Faes become… restless when the sun goes down. If you really need to talk to one of them, do it during the day.” 
You nodded and took mental note of an interesting new fact about faes. Then you asked a few more questions about the house, which he replied to, along with giving you some extra safety tips before offering you to rent the place for an incredibly low price. 
“Thank you so much!” you exclaimed happily, forgetting about what had happened earlier with the Taeyong, thrilled at the idea of moving to such a nice place, for cheap and meeting some of your favorite magical creatures. 
“No problem,” he said, handing you back your phone where he had added his contact information for you two to seal the deal later. “No one’s staying there at the moment, so it’s not an issue,” he added, walking you to the door and bidding you goodbye.
You thanked him again and happily walked back to the motel you were currently staying in. 
“Where were you?!” Johnny asked Taeil when he arrived home. “It’s your own cafe. How did you just disappear?”
“I was hiding behind the counter,” Taeil admitted shamelessly.
“Wow, thanks a lot, hyung” Mark said sarcastically from the sofa, holding a cold pack against his cheek.
“I’m not strong. I would have been useless anyway,” Taeil said. “I found Taeyong’s mate, by the way. Her name’s Y/N.”
“ Is she okay?” Doyoung asked, entering the living room. 
“She’s fine, it looks like she forgot about the whole incident already.”
“Do you know where to find her?” Jungwoo asked.
“Yes, well…about that…I need some help casting a protection spell on my old hut in the woods… because she’ll be living there,” Taeil trailed off as he headed to the kitchen, grabbing a bunch of herbs and salt. 
“WHAT?!” Doyoung hissed, following Taeil to the kitchen. “That area is infested with faes!”
“She has a thing for faes,” Taeil replied. “She was going to camp in the woods just to study them and write about it in her book.”
“Ah, so she’s a lunatic,” Jungwoo said.
“She’ll go to the forest no matter what, so I offered that hut because then we can at least know where she is and protect the place.”
“That’s actually smart,” Doyoung conceded and started looking for some herbs to help with the spell.
“We need to buy a bed and some other stuff because that house is empty right now,” Taeil added.
“Alright, to IKEA we go,” Jaehyun sighed and stood up. 
“I’ll go with you!” Jungwoo yelled happily.
“No,” Jaehyun groaned. “It takes you forever to choose what to buy.”
“And you have terrible taste in furniture,” Jungwoo replied. “Always buying the cheapest shit.”
“The bed can’t be cheap,” Johnny said. “Remember Taeyong can potentially spend his rut there. And you guys know how he gets.”
As if on cue, they heard a loud crash followed by the squeaking noise of the bed dragging back and forth on the floor mixed with guttural moans coming from the second floor.
“Looks like he’s awake…,” Mark mumbled, getting pale again, thinking that his leader would have his head after what happened at the coffee shop.
“Don’t worry. I secured his room with a spell,” Doyoung quickly assured him. “You’re safe.”
“I don’t know, I think I kinda wanna go to IKEA,” Mark said nervously.
“The more the merrier,” Jungwoo encouraged enthusiastically. 
The next few days were torture for Taeyong. He had a fever, his body ached and his erection wouldn’t disappear no matter how many times he came. He knew the reason: his wolf wouldn’t be satisfied until he claimed his mate. But his pack had put a spell around his room, making it impossible for him to leave, which made sense, because those were the instructions he had given them a long time ago in case he met his mate and couldn’t control himself. His pack had left enough snacks and drinks for him to survive for as long as his rut lasted, and he thankfully had his own private bathroom inside his room, but what he needed was his mate.
“Doyoung,” Taeyong approached the door and called for his friend. “Doyoung, open the door. I need out.”
No answer came from the other side of the door, but Taeyong wouldn’t give up. “I know you’re there. Just let me out. We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“…I can’t do that,” Doyoung finally replied, and then he jumped when Taeyong banged on the door loudly.
“OPEN THE DOOR!” The leader yelled, before letting out a frustrated sigh. “Please. It hurts,” he pleaded.
“Taeyong…”
“I’ll be gentle,” Taeyong bargained. “I won’t hurt her. I just need to see her, please…”
“I know you don’t want to hurt her,” Doyoung agreed. “But this isn’t you.”
“Doyoung,” Taeyong spoke through gritted teeth. “Your alpha commands it.”
Doyoung inhaled sharply. Taeyong was using his alpha voice, which made his wolf ache to comply, but he knew if he let him out now, the leader would do something he would regret.
“My best friend is more important than my alpha. I won’t let you fuck this up for yourself. Get back to your senses and then you can see her,” he replied stoically. “Her name is Y/N, by the way,” he added before walking away.
“Y/N…” Taeyong sighed, leaning his head on the cool material of the door. He closed his eyes as he tried to remember your scent and the way you trembled in his arms like a scared bunny. Cute. His wolf loved it. “Oh…” he breathed out, pressing his lower body against the door, slowly humping the barrier that kept him from finding you. This would have to do until he caught you and had you shaking again.
 After a long night of sweating and cumming, he finally reached for one of the many bottles of water they had prepared for him. Three days later he gained enough clarity to eat something. Five days later his member would remain soft for a few hours a day, which allowed him to take a proper break. After a week he had successfully survived what he was sure was the worst rut of his life. He got up slowly, dizzy and sweaty, and took a look at his room: it was in ruins, with clothes and personal belongings scattered on the floor. His bed was disgusting, the bedsheets were sticky and wrinkled, his pillow had been torn apart, and its filling was everywhere. The door was marked with scratches that looked too deep and big to be human, which had to mean he had transformed at some point. If it hadn’t been for the spell, he would have easily broken the door and escaped. 
Taeyong started picking everything up and cleaning the place. Then he jumped into the shower and allowed the hot water to relieve his aching muscles and clear his mind. Slowly, memories of the scene he caused in the coffee shop popped up and he cringed. He had to apologize to so many people now. 
He got dressed in comfy clothes, dried his hair, and attempted to open the damaged door. This time he was able to get out easily, which meant that the spell was meant to last as long as he was in rut. 
Then he took a deep breath in and walked down the stairs, trying not to make too much noise. He heard his pack members laughing loudly over the sound of the TV, which meant it was movie night. It was a good thing that they were together, so he could properly apologize in front of everyone, but his anxiety grew and his eyes started watering as he got closer to his destination.
 He had made a scene and attacked his own pack. What type of leader loses control like that? He was so ashamed he turned back, ready to hide in his room again.
“Taeyong,” Doyoung’s calm voice called for him. Of course Doyoung would notice him before he had the chance to run away.
Taeyong whimpered and looked back, to where his pack was making space for him to sit. They had paused the movie and were looking at him, patiently waiting for him to join in. He bit his lip nervously and sat down. His eyes landed on Mark; he looked fine, but there was still a small bruise on his face as evidence of what he had done to him. Mark caught him staring and offered him a reassuring smile. Tears finally rolled down Taeyong’s cheeks.
“Mark, I–,” the leader sobbed and hid his face in his hands. “I’m so sorry.”
“Hyung, I’m fine,” Mark said softly. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”
“You did him a favor,” Haechan added. “I think you fixed his nose.”
Taeyong snorted mid-sob at the unexpected joke and wiped his tears with the back of his hand, letting out a soft giggle.
“Everyone’s fine,” Jaehyun said, patting his leader’s back comfortingly. 
“Still, I should have controlled myself,” Taeyong mumbled.
“Pff…if you hadn’t controlled yourself, Mark wouldn’t be here,” Johnny said.
Mark laughed nervously. 
“And the place you destroyed was Taeil hyung’s shop, so no one cares,” Jungwoo said.
“Fuck you, guys,” Taeil said but he was laughing too. “No more free coffee for you.”
There was a pause when the laughter ended and Taeyong looked at Doyoung.
“I shouldn’t have talked to you like that,” he admitted apologetically.
“Oh, that? Your alpha voice isn’t as powerful as you think,” Doyoung shrugged smugly. “I think I’m the real leader of this pack.”
“Didn’t you have a panic attack right after you disobeyed him—“ Yuta tried to ask, but he was quickly interrupted.
“That’s not important now,” Ten interrupted, sitting closer to his leader. “You found your mate!”
Everyone cheered, making Taeyong blush and chuckle. He was overjoyed to finally meet the one he had been waiting for for so long…but then his anxiety came back.
“I don’t think I’m ready though,” he whispered.
“You are,” Doyoung rebutted.
“I almost bit her…”
“She’s fine,” Taeil said. 
 “You’ve helped many of us get together with our mate,” Jaemin agreed. “No one has prepared for this moment more than you.”
“But I didn’t know it would feel like this,” Taeyong said.
“Like what?” Kun asked.
“Like…like I’m some type of animal,” Taeyong groaned. “The things I wanna do to her I just–I feel like I’ll go crazy if I don’t—,” he paused and blushed. “...You know…”
“Oh, that’s normal,” Jeno assured him, laughing. 
“It is?” Taeyong asked, surprised. 
“Yeah!” Jeno insisted. “All of us who are mated have gone through that.”
“So it gets better later, right?” the leader asked hopefully.
“No,” a choir of voices replied. 
“But the bond works both ways,” Yuta added. “Soon she’ll be wanting you just as much as you want her.”
Taeyong’s face was hot. He wanted that. He wanted everything with you. “First I have to apologize to her.”
“Good thing we know where to find her,” Doyoung smiled.
Your new temporary home was more than you could ever wish for. It had a perfectly functioning bathroom and a kitchen. It was also fully furnished and excessively decorated in a way that made you think many people had been involved in the process because nothing matched. Your favorite thing was the little window in the kitchen which offered you a beautiful view of the forest while doing the dishes. You often opened the window to feel the breeze, smell the fresh grass and listen to the birds singing, and even if it was getting darker you could catch a glimpse of the stream and— were those eyes?!
You gasped and whoever was hiding far behind the bushes ducked down. They would have been successful if it wasn’t because of their pointy ears peeking out. 
You gasped again, this time out of excitement, and rushed out to meet your visitor. They had to be a fae!
Once you stepped out of the house, and stood near the entrance, waving at the creature, who was still hiding shyly behind the bushes.
“Hi,” you greeted them softly. “It’s okay! I won’t hurt you.”
The fae shifted enough for you to see their beautiful features, they seemed to be a male, with silky dark hair and pale skin. He looked at your house and tilted his head.
“I live here,” you continued talking, pointing at the wooden hut. “Do you live in the forest?” 
He gave you a short nod without taking his eyes off of you. Despite his lethargic expression, he seemed curious.
“My name’s Y/N,” you introduced yourself. You had this habit of talking non-stop when you were excited or nervous. “What’s your name?”
The fae’s plump lips twisted into a little smile. “Soobin.”
“Nice to meet you, Soobin! I guess we’re neighbors,” you smiled at him.
 “Sweet,” he whispered.
“Hm?” you asked.
“Smells sweet,” he said this time loud enough to hear, and he stood up, revealing he was way taller than what you expected. He was dressed in a pair of loose pants and a crochet open shirt that didn’t quite cover his lean torso and eclectic necklaces and pendants adorned his neck.
“Oh, that’s probably the pie I baked,” you replied. “Do you want some?”
The man licked his lips and took a step toward you, but then he tensed and glared at a spot on the ground in front of him. “I cannot get closer,” he muttered. 
You stared at the ground too, looking for whatever he was looking at, but you couldn’t see anything. Maybe he just didn’t trust you enough to get closer. 
“Let me bring you a piece, then,” you offered, running back into the kitchen and placing a big piece of fresh pie on a plate. Then you went out to see him waiting for you in the same spot, still glaring at the ground.
You tried to keep your distance while offering him the plate, not wanting to scare him. 
“Closer,” he whispered.
You took a step towards him, but contradictorily he took a step back.
“...May I come closer?” you asked confusedly. 
He nodded and looked at your feet.
You took a hesitant step towards him and he took another step back. It made no sense, but he was smiling now, so you guessed this was what he wanted. 
“Is this okay?” you asked, taking another step.
“Yes,” he chuckled, taking another step back. It seemed to be some type of game for faes. Whatever it was, he looked like he was having fun.
You couldn’t help but laugh too as you took another step, even without understanding the nature of the game. “Closer?”
“Closer,” he agreed. 
You took another step, but he didn’t step back this time. He moved his hands towards you and instead of picking the plate, he grabbed your arms.
 At that moment a growl echoed in the before peaceful forest, catching you by surprise. Soobin looked as confused as you, with his widened eyes scanning the already dark trees around you. He then turned around slightly, while still holding you and you saw it: a big grey wolf lurking behind Soobin, bearing his teeth threateningly. 
“Alpha,” Soobin acknowledged the wolf with a nod.
The animal’s red eyes glared at the fae, trying to communicate something that you couldn’t catch. But Soobin seemed to understand the message.
 “It is past dusk,” the fae said in a defensive tone, never letting go of you. “It is allowed.”
The wolf let out an aggressive snarl, and even you understood that they did not like whatever Soobin was implying.
The fae sighed and he hesitantly let go of your arms. “I do not wish to fight you, alpha. But let it be the last time. Rules are rules.”
“What’s going on?” you asked Soobin, still frozen in your place. 
“Alpha is not happy to see me,” the fae replied simply and took the plate from your hands. “Thank you for the pie,” he added, looking between you to the wolf one last time and walking away with a smile. 
“C-come back anytime!” you offered as you saw him leave. That was not how you expected your first encounter with a fae to go. He seemed to be sweet and willing to be your friend. You had so much you wanted to ask, but then this wolf had to scare him away. Soobin had called him alpha and you knew there was only one pack of werewolves in town. You had met the pack’s alpha before…
“Taeyong,” you turned to look at the wolf angrily. 
The wolf’s ears lowered and he winced. You knew it was him?
“Shift and come in. We need to talk,” you said before stomping back into the house, leaving the door open behind you.
A minute after the man you had met at the coffee shop a week ago and who had almost given you a heart attack stood at your door, fixing his clothes nervously. 
Your breath caught in your throat when you saw his human form. You remembered him being good-looking, but his beauty was surreal. You had to remind yourself you were mad at him.
“Get in and close the door already” you commanded. “It’s getting cold.”
The man hesitated momentarily before finally stepping inside the house and closing the door behind him, but he stayed as far away from you as possible. 
“I’m sorry,” he murmured.
God, why was he so cute?
“You should be,” you replied, setting a couple of plates on the table
“I lost control. I know it’s not an excuse, but–”
“Damn right it isn’t, you scared poor Soobin!”
“I–What?” he asked.
“He was opening up and now I don’t know if he’ll ever come back!” you replied, letting out a frustrated sigh as you searched for cups in the cabinet.
“...That’s what’s bothering you?” he asked.
“Yes! I need to interview a fae!”
“...You were trying to interview him,” he repeated slowly. 
“That’s right, and you interrupted us just when he allowed me to get closer,” you groaned, sitting in one of the chairs and pouring some tea into your cup. “Take a seat,” you told Taeyong. 
You may be mad, but you were still a good host. Taeyong was family to Taeil, and Taeil had been good to you, so you would be good to Taeyong and at least feed him while telling him off.
He bit his lip and sat down on the chair across from you. “I think you got it wrong. He didn’t allow you to get closer, he took you out of the protection circle on purpose.”
“The what?” you asked, biting on a piece of pie.
“The protection circle around this house,” he said as if it was obvious. “Can’t you feel it?”
You swallowed the pastry and looked around, trying to see if there was anything off with the house besides the odd decoration. “Feel what?”
Taeyong tilted his head. Anyone with a tiny bit of magic in their body would be able to notice the house was under a spell. 
Oh…
“You’re not a witch…” he gasped. Taeil said he had sensed something different about your aura but that he wasn’t sure what it was. This had to be it.
“I’m not,” you agreed. 
The color drained from Taeyong’s face. 
“Then what are you doing here?! It’s dangerous!” he whisper-shouted, looking around like he was afraid anyone would hear. 
“I’m writing a book,” you replied.
“About faes?!” he asked. “No, no, no, please. Do you even know what faes do to humans?!”
“...No,” you admitted. “Do you?”
“No! No one knows! They take them away. Make them disappear. That’s why this area is not accessible for tourists and even magic users stay away after sunset!” Taeyong let out a frustrated groan and placed one of his palms on his chest, trying to calm his beating heart. “Didn’t Taeil tell you to go out only during daylight?”
“He did,” you remembered. “But I thought he was overreacting.”
Taeyong could cry because of how stressed he was. Not only did his mate turn out to be human, but she was also clueless and living in an enchanted forest like it was nothing.
He took a deep breath in and tried his best to explain everything calmly. “Faes have been here for centuries, so this land belongs to them. We have no power to tell them what to do, but they at least agreed to make a deal with us and not hunt during the day.”
“...Soobin was…hunting?” you asked after a few seconds of silence. 
Taeyong nodded.
“He was going to take me away…” you whispered, staring blankly at your plate. You weren’t that hungry anymore. How could someone who looked so sweet and innocent be hunting humans? 
“Yes,” the Werewolf grunted. He hated how easily you had followed Soobin out of the protection circle. He hated the way he had touched your arm. He hated thinking about the possibility of you being gone who knows where. You were too careless for a fragile human. 
You both sat there without saying a word until you cleared your throat awkwardly. “Thank you…”
“You’re welcome,” he replied softly. “But please don’t do that again.”
“Okay,” you replied. “Sorry…”
“I should be the one to apologize. That’s why I came here today,” he murmured. “The way I behaved at the coffee shop was not okay.”
“...Oh!” you exclaimed, remembering the event. “Well, that was an accident, right?”
“Uh…yes…” he said, sipping on his cup of tea.
“I guess your ruts are irregular,” you hummed.
“My r–,” he blushed and choked. You had thought about him in rut? 
“Do you take suppressants?” you asked casually, not noticing that he was mortified.
“Y-yes.”
“Hmm… That’s odd,” you commented. “Then you shouldn’t have entered your rut so fast and out of nowhere. Did someone trigger it?”
He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. His eyes were wide and glossy, as he stared at you in silence. He tried to think of something to say, but he didn’t want to lie to you nor did he want to scare you. 
You had studied supernatural creatures before, so you were able to put two and two together. 
“...It was me, huh?” you asked.
Oh, well. He was fucked. 
“H-how did you know?” he asked in the smallest voice you had heard, looking away.
You hummed.
“You went straight for my neck, so at first I thought you were a vampire, but you turned out to be a werewolf. I can only think of one reason why you would want to bite my neck.”
Taeyong gulped. He was shaking with anxiety. You probably found him disgusting.
“I’m s-sorry…” he whimpered with difficulty because of the way his breathing had quickened.
“Hey, calm down. Breathe,” you instructed.
“I’ve w-waited for so long I…I didn’t mean to– I just couldn’t-...” 
“Taeyong,” you called his name firmly and held his trembling hands in yours, making him gasp. “It’s not your fault. You can’t control it.”
He was still too terrified to look into your eyes. “I don’t w-want to force you–”
“I know,” you assured him.
“I just w-wanted to get to know you…”
“We can do that,” you conceded.
“...Really?” he finally looked up and his eyes lightened up with hope.
“Really,” you replied. “It’s the least I can do for someone who saved me from being abducted by faes,” you joked, but he didn’t find it funny.
“That’s not why I did it! You don’t owe me anything–”
“I know,” you chuckled. “That’s not the only reason. I also think you’re cute.”
You had broken him. His face was as red as the cherries that adorned the forgotten pie and he was struggling to hold back a shy smile. He sighed, relieved, and now it was his turn to hold your hands in his, bringing them to his chest.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he sighed. “I’ll do it right, I’ll treat you well, I’ll court you the way you deserve.”
You giggled. “Court me? How about you give me your number first?”
And that’s how you started dating the kindest man you had ever met. He was a walking green flag, gentle, respectful, and patient… Sometimes too patient. 
He insisted on taking things slow, and it took him almost two months of courting before he agreed to officially call himself your boyfriend, because, according to him, he hadn’t earned it yet. 
You didn’t want to be ungrateful but there were times when his chivalry frustrated you. Yes, he treated you like a queen, took care of you, and listened to you but sometimes you wished he actually kissed you instead of quickly pecking your lips and pulling away. 
You enjoyed his company as it was, but you couldn’t deny the burning desire that consumed you whenever he was near you. 
“Taeyong,” you called his name after you finished cleaning up the table. 
“Yeah?” he replied absentmindedly while washing the dishes.
“Can we make out?” you asked straight to the point.
He almost dropped the plate he was holding. His whole body tensed and he continued staring at the running water. He didn’t ask you to repeat yourself. He had heard you perfectly.
“Is that a no?” you asked, taking a few steps closer.
Taeyong closed the water tap and turned around to face you, leaning against the sink.
“Of course, we can, my love,” he said, offering you a smile that somehow seemed a little forced. 
Before he had the chance to take it back you pressed your lips against his. He kissed you back softly, but as usual, he pulled away quickly. 
“That’s not making out,” you pouted.
“Let’s take things slow,Y/N,” Taeyong said, ready to resume his domestic task, but you were tired and frustrated, so you grabbed him by the nape and kissed him hard. 
He gasped in surprise but he had been controlling himself for too long, and his wolf was not going to waste this chance. He gave you an open-mouthed kiss that felt too urgent for someone who wanted to take things slow, and when you sucked on his tongue he moaned loudly, finally daring to use his hands on you. 
His still-wet fingers tangled in your hair and angled your head for his lips to fit yours perfectly, allowing his tongue to play with yours quite aggressively. 
A shiver ran down your spine when he switched positions to have you pressed against the sink, and you let your hands travel down his torso.
That’s when he detached himself from you abruptly. 
“Was that better?” he asked as evenly as he could with his chest rising and falling erratically.
“Yeah…” you breathed out.
He nodded.“Go rest, love.I’ll finish cleaning.”
For him, that had been the closest he had been to losing his sanity. He had to lock himself up as soon as he got back home due to another unscheduled rut–which was happening more frequently the closer he got to you– and he couldn’t stop thinking about how good you tasted and how easily he could manhandle your fragile body. 
He  had opened Pandora’s box. Now he couldn’t stop himself from kissing you every chance he got. 
‘Just a kiss,’ he kept telling himself. ‘I will stop before it gets serious.’
But God, was it hard when he had you all pretty on his lap, with your breasts pressed against his pecs and driving him crazy.
“Y/N,” he whispered against your lips. 
“Hm?” you murmured, kissing his jaw and neck slowly.
He tilted his head back and rested it on the sofa when your lips brushed a spot where you could feel his strong pulse. 
“Oh… Y-Y/N,” It was like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite remember what. Especially when you rolled your hips against his like that. So he just whined. 
“What is it, baby?” you asked, dropping more of your weight on his lap. 
His breath hitched and his eyes snapped open in your direction, a reddish tone replacing his usual eye color. His fingers dug into your hips as he pressed you against him harder, humming when he heard you moan faintly.
His lips chased yours and he wasted no time in sliding his tongue into your mouth. He kissed you fiercely and let out breathy moans while guiding your hips against his crotch insistently.
“Tae–...b-baby that feels…” you manage to breathe out as your hips shake in his hands.
“G-good?” he asked in the softest voice despite his lusty eyes and his hips thrusting against your core harshly. 
“So good, baby,” you gasped. “Can you g-give me more?”
“Anything,” he breathed out, eyes dazed, allowing his hands to travel your body. “Everything…”
“Good boy,” you praised him lovingly, reaching for the hem of his pants to free his painful erection.
“Mm…Ah,” he moaned softly as you palmed him over his boxers. When your thumb pressed against the head he let out an audible gasp. 
“Y/N, w-we have to stop,” he panted urgently, but his body said something different; one of his hands kept yours firmly pressed against his cock, while the other slid under your shirt, looking for your breasts. “Gotta…gotta s-stop…”
“Do you w-want to stop?” you asked him, whimpering when his fingers found one of your nipples, while his other hand guided yours up and down his cock.
He shook his head.
“Then why do we…ah! Why do we h-have to stop, b-baby?”
He stared at your lips dumbfounded, still moving your hand up and down, harder, faster. There was a reason why he had to stop. He had to. But why? He just couldn’t remember…
“I don’t know…,” he admitted.
 The hand that was caressing your breasts, slid down your stomach, drawing gentle patterns until it slid past the hem of your shorts. Your hips jumped slightly  and he breathed shakily when his fingers slid into your panties, immediately getting then soaked.
“B-baby…,” you breathed out when he slowly took his digits out and brought them to his mouth. 
He opened wide, sticking his tongue out , and then sucked on his fingers lewdly. 
Suddenly, his head rolled back, his back arched, and his body convulsed. He moaned around his fingers and a big wet patch formed on his boxers, right where he was holding your hand so desperately. 
You gasped at the sight of him cumming just because of your taste. “Oh my god…,” you murmured, pressing the palm of your hand against him harder and feeling his cock squirt another generous amount of cum while he trembled under you.
Once you thought it may be too much for him, you released his member and his body relaxed on the sofa. His mouth finally let go of his fingers, leaving behind a trail of saliva. He was panting and his wide eyes were fixed on the ceiling, trying to comprehend the pleasure he had felt. 
“Taeyong?” you called his name gently.
 It was like the sound of your voice brought him back to reality. Or maybe it drove him further into madness because he hugged your waist and pressed your crotches together urgently.
“Y-you too…” he begged, before kissing you messily, making an uncoordinated attempt to dry hump you.
You kissed him back, slowly moving against his still-hard member, but the pace didn’t quite satisfy him. He grabbed your hips harshly and moved your body insistently back and forth.
“Ah, right t-there,” you encouraged him, letting him set the pace. 
He hissed. The chaff of your clothed clit on his sensitive tip was pleasurably painful and your moans mixed with your aroused scent had him forgetting about all the possible downsides of letting his wolf loose. It felt too good.
“I’m cumming,” you gasped, shaking on his lap. “B-baby— Oooh!”
“Yeah…” he moaned, pulling you into a suffocating hug and giving your neck wet, sloppy kisses. 
You opened your eyes slowly, feeling weak and dizzy, but incredibly happy. You had wanted to feel Taeyong close to you since you had started dating and now it was finally happening. You sighed and looked down at your boyfriend who was still clinging to you and hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Then you felt liquid dripping down your chest.
“Tae—,” you laughed, thinking it was saliva and whipping it off with your hand but your smile dropped when you saw your fingers tainted red. “What…”
Did he bite you? You hadn’t felt anything at all. You could hear him panting, but you were sure his fangs were not on your skin. 
You quickly pushed him off you, pressing his back on the sofa and taking a look at him. He was pale, covered in sweat, displaying a lost expression and his mouth and chin were stained with fresh blood. 
Your hand flew to your neck, finding more of the red liquid, but the smooth texture of your skin proved you hadn’t been bitten. 
That blood wasn’t yours.
What he had bitten was his own hand.
The same he had earlier used to touch your folds and taste you was now covered in blood, displaying an injury in the shape of a crescent moon.
“Taeyong!” You screamed, forgetting all about the pleasure you had just felt and running to the bathroom to get the first aid kit.
When you came back and started examining his wound he seemed more conscious.
“How did this happen?!” You asked him, carefully disinfecting the bite.
His beautiful eyes looked at you with sadness but no words came from his lips.
“Why did you do that?” you continued rambling on until you heard a quiet sob. “Taeyong?”
He looked away, but you had already seen the tears sliding down his cheeks.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” You asked gently, cupping his face on your palms and trying to make eye contact.
He placed his hands on top of yours gently, still weeping bitterly.
“Does it hurt that bad? Should we go to a healer?” You insisted, your worries increasing every second.
He let out a broken sob.
Broken-hearted you tried to hug him but he quickly stood up. “I have to go. I’ll c-call you later, okay?” 
“What? Taeyong, wait–” 
“I’ll ask Jaemin to heal me,” he said, trying to hold back his sniffles. 
“I’ll go with–”
“No, Y/N,” he interrupted you. “You’ll make it worse.”
“...I will make it worse?” you asked in a whisper.
“I–,” he let out a shaky sigh. “No, baby, I don’t mean it like that.”
You didn’t reply. What were you supposed to say after being told your presence would make your boyfriend feel worse?
His face told you he wasn’t happy with the way he had worded it either. He knew he had hurt you and he wanted nothing more but to comfort you, hug you, and kiss you stupid, but he needed to get away from you before his wolf took over.
“You did nothing wrong, my love,” he assured you. His words were gentle, but his body language was so distant. “I just need to be alone, right now, okay?”
You nodded. What else could you do?
And then you were left alone.
“You’re back already–Holy shit, hyung, are you okay?!” Xiaojun jumped out of the couch where he had been hanging out with Hendery when he saw his leader. 
“Fine,” Taeyong mumbled. 
“You’re bleeding!” Hendery yelled. 
“I just need–”
“TEN HYUNG!” Xiaojun screamed.
Ten came down the stairs running and gasped when he saw Taeyong’s hand covered in blood. “What happened to you?!”
“I need you to lock me up,” Taeyong mumbled tiredly.
“You need medical attention,” Ten replied, trying to pull him back to the door to take him to the hospital.
“There’s no time,” Taeyong groaned.
“Time for what?” Ten asked, but then he noticed the way his leader’s eye color kept changing and that the skin he had touched was burning up. “Wha—AGAIN?! You just got out of rut two weeks ago!”
“Lock me up,” the oldest repeated weakly, leaning against his pack member for support.
“Fuck,” Ten hissed, gesturing for the others to help him carry him up the stairs. “There’s no way this is healthy.”
“Hmm…” was the leader’s absentminded response before losing consciousness. 
If you had known what was happening, you would have just gone to sleep instead of waiting for the call that he said would come. He didn’t call you and he wasn’t responding to your texts
After two days you decided to look for answers somewhere else and visited Taeil’s cafe.
He received you with a warm smile, as usual. But you could sense some awkwardness when he asked that many trivial questions (even talking about the weather), as if he wanted to talk about anything but Taeyong.
“I wanted to ask you something,” you finally said.
His smile didn’t reach his eyes, but he still gestured for you to go on. He knew he couldn’t avoid the topic forever.
“Have you seen Taeyong?”
“I have,” he said curtly.
“He’s not answering my calls. I didn’t think he would be the type to ghost someone, but here we are,” you laughed awkwardly.
Taeil let out a heavy sigh.
“He’s not ghosting you.”
“Yes, he is,” you said bitterly. “If he wanted to break up he could have just said so.”
“Y/N, I promise you he wants to be with you,” Taeil insisted.
“Then why is he ignoring me?”
“He’s in rut…”
“…Again?!”
He nodded. “Again.”
“This is happening way too often.”
“I know.”
“What about his suppressants?”
“They don’t work anymore.”
“There has to be something we can do!”
Taeil groaned. “We can’t force him.”
“Force him to what?”
“Just…ask him, okay?”
“When?! He’s always in rut and  disappearing!”
“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he said. “I know this must be hard for you, but trust me, it’s hard for him too. He’s trying his best to be a good boyfriend for you.”
Part of you knew he was right. Even if it felt like he was ghosting you, deep down you knew that was not Taeyong. You agreed to wait until his rut was over and he contacted you, but you felt so lonely without a single text from him.
One day you thought you heard a noise outside so you ran out of the house, thinking Taeyong had came back, but there was no one there. The only thing that was new was an empty plate a few meters from you; the plate that Soobin had taken the day you met him. 
“Soobin?” you called nervously.
 You may still be a bit wary of him, but your editor still wanted you to write that book about faes. You had been researching at the local library and asking your boyfriend questions about the mysterious creatures but you knew that talking to one directly would be better.  The sun was still shining so talking to Soobin should be safe, right?
“Good afternoon, Y/N,” the fae’s calm voice replied as he came out from behind the tree where he was hiding. 
“I’m glad you’re back,” you said, trying not to show the fear in your voice.
“Are you, really?”  he asked.
“Of course.”
He raised his eyebrows in disbelief.
“Well, I’m a little scared,” you admitted. “But I’m still glad. I wanted to talk to you.”
“That’s interesting,” he purred, walking towards you and stopping right before the protection circle–which now was very visible to the human eye thanks to your boyfriend’s efforts– started. “I love a good conversation. What is it you want to talk about?”
“I’m a writer,” you said, sitting on the other side of the line that drew the circle. “I’m writing about faes and I was hoping to ask you some questions.”
“Ask,” he encouraged you, placing his elbows on his crossed legs and leaning forward, with his face resting on his hands. 
You gulped, deciding to go straight to the point. “Do you hunt humans?”
He smiled in a way that would have been sweet in a different setting but now was giving you chills, and not in a good way. “I do.”
“Why?”
“For different reasons. It depends on the human,” he shrugged.
“Do you…,” you shifted uncomfortably. “Do you eat them?”
He laughed out loud. It was the first time you saw him express himself so openly. “Your kind is not as nutritious as you think you are. Not with all that coffee and fat that you consume.”
You gasped, a bit offended. “Are you calling me fat?!”
He laughed harder. “Are you offended I don’t want to eat you?”
“N-no, but…”
“We did eat humans in the past. But we know better now. Eating you won’t bring me any benefit.”
You sighed in relief. “Then what were you planning to do to me? The day you took me out of the protection circle…”
He tilted his head. “I was not going to eat you…but I wanted a taste.”
“A t-taste?” you repeated.
“Mhm…You carry a very sweet smell. I was wondering if you taste like you smell.” 
You didn’t want to be dirty-minded. He probably didn’t mean it like that.
“Y-you mean in a cannibal type of way or—”
“A sexual way,” he deadpanned. 
“O-oh…” you mumbled awkwardly. “So uh…faes do s-stuff like that with other species?” 
“Not often. I haven’t fucked a human in centuries,” the way he stressed the word fuck made you blush. You knew that faes preferred to speak eloquently, but he had deliberately chosen a word used by humans.
“Isn’t it better to do those things with y-your kind?” you asked.
“You see, faes can gain vitality from emotions we elicit from others.  And, compared to faes, humans are so, so deliciously sensitive, meaning your emotions would be more intense than those I could possibly get from one of my own kind,” he said, eyeing you up. “If I feed on your pleasure I’m sure I’ll become even stronger.”
You let out a shaky breath. “Aren’t there other ways to be stronger?”
“There are,” he conceded. “But don’t you think this way is more fun for both of us?”
“I’m sorry, but I’ll have to decline,” you said firmly. “I’m seeing someone.”
He looked at you dumbfounded for a second, expecting an explanation as to why that was relevant and then his eyes widened. “Ooh…are humans still monogamous?” 
“Uh…I am,” you replied.
“How disappointing,” he sighed. “Is it alpha?”
“Yeah…” 
“Hm…Congratulations…”
“Thanks…”
“You don’t sound that excited,” he teased. 
“I’m just a little tired,” you lied. “But thanks for answering my questions today. You were very helpful,” you said, reaching for the empty plate Soobin had left on the grass, when you felt his hand grabbing your wrist firmly.
You froze.
How could he touch you when you were still inside the circle?!
Oh shit.
The plate was outside of the circle.
And now so was your hand.
“Not so fast,” he warned you. “What do I get in return for all that valuable information?”
You had been fooled by the fae once again. How could you be so careless?
“Soobin, please,” you pleaded. “I can’t give you what you want.”
“You can’t or you won’t?” he asked, tugging your wrist towards him playfully and almost making you lose your balance and exit the circle. 
“Please, there has to be something else I can give you,” you bargained desperately. 
He chuckled and finally let you go, making you fall on your butt. “Y/N, the sun hasn’t set yet. I can’t do anything to you. I was just playing.”
“That wasn’t funny!” you fumed. 
“But I would still like to propose a deal,” he said casually.
“Forget it,” you said, standing up, ready to go back inside the house. 
“Don’t you have an entire book to write about me?” he asked.
You looked at him suspiciously. 
“I can provide all the information you need,” he continued. “For a price.”
“I’m not gonna fuck you,” you snapped at him.
“As delectable as that would be, that’s not the only way you can pay me. During this conversation, I absorbed a variety of emotions coming from you. They may not be as powerful as pleasure, but they satisfy me for now.”
“You were feeding on me the entire time?!” you accused him incredulously.
He shrugged. “Isn’t it convenient? I give you what you want, and you pay me back without even noticing.”
Well, he had a point. He wasn’t even hurting you. All you had to do was your job and he would take what he needs without disturbing you.
“Deal,” you said. “Come back tomorrow at the same time. No funny business.”
He smiled and gave you a short nod before you walked into the house.
“If alpha doesn’t satisfy you, the offer still stands!” you heard him say before you slammed the door shut.
True to his word, Soobin showed up the next day and the day after that. Separated by the protection circle, you had long conversations in which he answered your questions regarding faes while sneakily asking about your life. You often prepared tea and snacks for him, and while he enjoyed some of them, he did not hesitate to let you know when something wasn’t tasty. So far, the snacks he liked the most were whichever you prepared using fresh fruit, so it wasn’t surprising to find a handmade basket full of fresh berries on the spot where he usually sat. He said it was a gift, but you knew it was his way of asking you to bake something for him. 
You were kneading dough when Taeyong showed up at your place, looking exhausted. He kissed your forehead and hugged you softly, apologising a thousand times.
“I’m so sorry for leaving like that,” he whispered.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were going into rut?” you asked him, hugging him back. You weren’t accusing him of anything, but you needed to understand him.
“I didn’t want you to worry.”
“Of course I worry! How many times has it been since we started dating?”
“I got it under control, Y/N. My pack knows how to keep me locked away.”
“Baby, you shouldn’t have to...”
“I have no choice, love.”
“You have me,” you reminded him.
He gulped, pulling away from the hug. “I would never force this on you–”
“You’re not forcing me. I’m offering.”
“You don’t know what you’re offering,” he warned.
“I do!” you said. “Your wolf should calm down after you claim me–”
Taeyong groaned, closed his eyes, and ran his fingers through his hair. “Don’t say stuff like that…”
“Taeyong, I can take it,” you insisted. “I knew what I was getting myself into when we started dating. I want to do this with you–”
“No,” he said harshly.
“Why not?”
“It’s dangerous, Y/N.”
“I trust you–”
“I don’t trust myself!” he confessed. “I’m not myself when in rut. An alpha wanting to mate is not someone you can reason with. I wouldn’t stop even if you begged. Don’t you understand?! I’m not human!”
You looked at him with wide eyes. He had always been human to you–an equal. You couldn’t understand his fear, but it was obviously something that tormented him. 
“I don’t wanna argue, Y/N,” he said weakly. “I missed you so much…Can we not talk about this right now?”
You nodded, leading him to the sofa, where you lay down in each other’s arms in silence until he fell asleep. He probably didn’t sleep well the past week; he looked tired and thinner than before. That was the last bit of physical contact you had with your boyfriend; after that, he avoided every touch. It was torture, but he knew if he touched you he would kiss you like he was dying to, and then another rut would probably be triggered, which meant he would have to be away from you again. 
You tried to be understanding, even if it hurt to see him pull away like he was repelled by you. At least his words were still very loving and assuring, but you missed his touch.
Soobin noticed you sulking during one of your scheduled interviews. 
“You’re not even listening,” he said suddenly.
“I’m sorry!” you said quickly, snapping out of it. “I was thinking about something else. 
“That’s annoying,” he sighed. “Humans normally can’t think of anything else when in the presence of a fae.”
“I guess I got used to your presence by now,” you shrugged. 
He glared at you. He was in a bad mood because he couldn’t feed on your emotions unless he was the one causing them. Right now you were sad, but it was because of someone else so he didn’t get to absorb it. He had you right in front of him and he couldn’t get anything from you.
Unless…
“I couldn’t help but notice you haven’t been marked,” he said casually, looking at your neck. “Did alpha find another partner?”
You scoffed. “Our relationship is going well, thank you for asking.”
‘Yes,’ he thought. ‘Anger.’ He would take what he could get.
“It’s strange,” he continued. “Normally werewolves claim their partners as soon as they can.”
“He wants to take things slow,” you defended him.
“Hm… I guess he doesn’t need to mark you to please you,” he conceded.
You bit your lip an that told him all he needed to know.
“Oh? Alpha rejected sex with you?” he asked in a condescendent tone.
“I told you we’re taking it slow…”
“You’re telling me one of the most libidinous creatures–a half animal– refuses to copulate?”
Your face was red because of shame and anger. “Don’t talk about him like he’s just some animal.”
“I’m not looking down on him, Y/N. I genuinely find it unbelievable. I don’t see why he would hurt himself like that.”
That caught your attention, and your anger switched to worry. “Hurt himself?”
Soobin nodded. “If he imprinted on you, denying himself the pleasure of having you should hurt him physically. He shouldn’t be able to control himself.”
“Are you saying I’m not his real mate?” you asked in a small voice.
He seemed to consider it for a moment and then he shook his head. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I’m certain he imprinted on you. There has to be another reason why he rejects your body.”
“Like what?” you asked urgently. All your anger was long forgotten. Now you wanted answers.
The fae licked his lips. “I can’t think of a reason not to want to fuck you, Y/N. I’m still hoping you  accidentally step out of the circle at night.”
You rolled your eyes at him. “Shut up, Soobin.”
“But…” he said tentatively.
“But?” you repeated.
“If it hurts him not to have sex, and he still chooses not to, it could be that maybe…”
“Maybe what?!”
“...He’s not attracted to you.”
Your blood ran cold. You hadn’t even considered that possibility. You knew werewolves imprinted for life and that they would be loyal to their partner no matter what, but now that you thought about it, they couldn’t choose who they imprinted on. What if you were not his type but he was stuck with you? What if he was trying his best to be a good mate, but he genuinely did not want to sleep with you?
“...You think he’s not attracted to me?” you repeated.
“No. I’m saying that could be a possible reason for someone not to want to lie with their partner.”
You nodded. It was only a possibility. It wasn’t necessarily true, right?
But the more you thought about it the more it made sense. What if the reason he pulled away every time wasn’t to protect you, but because you disgusted him?
Seeing you like that, Soobin felt guilty. He wanted to make you feel something and feed on it, yes, but maybe he had taken it a bit too far. ”I’m sorry, please forget what I said”
“Okay,” you said absentmindedly, picking on the blueberries he had brought you today. 
He grabbed your hand, which once again had incautiously crossed the shield around the house. This time you were too sad to be scared.
“You’re attractive, Y/N.”.
“Thanks…,” your emotionless voice replied.
“I mean it.”
“Right,” you said, not believing him and attempting to stand up.
“Wait!,” was the last thing he said before he hastily pulled your hand and took your entire body out of the protection circle. 
You landed on top of him, spilling the berries all over the grass, and just when you were about to demand an explanation you heard a hoarse familiar voice.
“Get your fucking hands off her,” Taeyong commanded. His tone was scarily calm. 
You quickly stood up and so did Soobin.
“Taeyong–” 
“Get back into the circle, Y/N,” he demanded, making his way towards Soobin.
“We were just talking,” you insist but your boyfriend had already grabbed the fae by his necklaces and pulled him closer threateningly. 
“Didn’t seem like it,” he growled, staring down at Soobin’s calm expression. He had arrived right in time to see the fae pull you towards him and his blood was boiling.
“Let him go!” you pleaded, trying to separate them. 
“Get the fuck back inside the circle!” he yelled at you. “Don’t you see how dark it is already?!”
You finally noticed that it was indeed late. You had been talking for so long that you didn’t pay attention to the sunset and the fact that it was the time for faes to hunt.
“He wouldn’t hurt me,” you insisted.
“You don’t know that,” Taeyong disagreed.
“Soobin, tell him!” you begged the fae, who had been quiet the entire time.
“I do not intend to cause her pain,” Soobin finally said, causing Taeyong’s hold to loosen up a bit as he knew faes did not tell lies. “But my intentions are not pure either.”
You opened and closed your mouth dumbly. Did he have a death wish?! Why would he admit that?
“...What do you mean?” Taeyong hissed.
Soobin’s lips twisted into a lazy smile. “You know exactly what I mean, alpha.”
The werewolf lost it, and slammed the fae against a tree. Soobin didn’t even try to defend himself, nor did he show any sign of pain. He just stared at the furious man back.
“NO! STOP!” you yelled. 
“I don’t want you anywhere near her again,” Taeyong grunted. “Do you understand?”
“But she has a book to write,” Soobin replied arrogantly. 
“TAEYONG!” you screamed, hugging your boyfriend from behind before he had the chance to throw a punch. “Baby, please, let him go. Please.”
Taeyong glared at the Soobin furiously. He was nowhere near done, but he could feel your arms shaking around him. He would not be the cause for your distress. Hesitantly, he let go of Soobin. “Get lost.”
Soobin wasn’t done either, but because of how scared you were, he decided to stop for now. Without another word he walked away. 
For a minute, you and Taeyong stood where they were in silence until he sighed and grabbed your arm, walking back into the safety of the protection spell. You were about to enter tne house when he stopped.
“It’s not the first time, is it?” he asked seriously. “I could smell him on you before, but I thought I was imagining things.”
“He comes here often,” you admitted, feeling Taeyong’s grip on your arm tighten. “But we are always separated by the spell.”
“Why didn’t you tell me he was bothering you?”
“He’s not bothering me,” you mumbled. 
Taeyong looked confused…and nervous. “So you were willingly spending time with the fae prince?”
You shrugged awkwardly. “He’s been helping me with my book.”
“Faes don’t do anything for free,” he said apprehensively. “You know that, right?”
“I do…”
“...Whad did he want in return?” 
Now he was alarmed. What had Soobin done to you?!
“He’s been feeding on my emotions,” you admitted. It sounded more intimate and shameful now that you had said it out loud.
“...What?! Y/N why–...what were you thinking?!”
“Taeyong, he didn’t hurt me. Other thatn that, all he did was talk to me and bring me fruit,” you groaned, tiredly.
He stared at you in disbelief. “…All those baskets of fruit in the kitchen are his doing?!”
“What, you think it’s poisoned or something?” You asked sarcastically.
“Fruit has a sexual innuendo for faes,” Taeyong deadpanned. “They exchange them and eat them together during the courting stage.”
Your jaw dropped and your confidence left your body. 
“He left out that detail, huh?” Your boyfriend asked rhetorically.
“I…I told him I wasn’t interested,” you said.
“Yet you accepted his courting gifts and let him absorb your emotional energy.”
“Are you jealous?” You scoffed for a lack of a better comeback.
“Yes! Jealous and furious at your naivety!”
“I know what I’m doing, okay?” you said defensively.
“No, you have no idea what you’ve been doing ever since you came to this town!” he exclaimed. “You came to live into the forest having no magical abilities, without even knowing about protection spells, let a fae court you without telling me, and even let him feed on you like it’s no big deal?!”
“Would you have preferred I fucked him as payment?!” you blurted out. 
Taeyong’s eyes widened.
Oh no.
“That’s what he originally asked from you, huh?” Taeyong scoffed. 
“It’s fine, I rejected him–”
“It’s not fine, Y/N, what the fuck?! He could have taken you regardless!”
“He wouldn’t do that.”
“You don’t know him!” he roared. “You don’t know how men think! I could smell his desire for you, Y/N, goddammit!”
“Good to know someone desires me…,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes and trying to walk past him and into the house, but he pulled you back towards him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked. 
“At least he’s not disgusted by me.” 
“What are you even talking about?!” he growled, starting to lose his patience.
“Oh, please! It’s obvious! You’re not attracted to me, Taeyong!”
Taeyong shook his head and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What?!”
“You hate it when I touch you. You pull away when I kiss you. Honestly, Taeyong, why are we even together?”
“You can’t be serious right now,” he chuckled bitterly. “All this because I haven’t dicked you down?”
“Fuck you,” you said, ready to end the discussion and get into the damn house but once again he yanked you back, this time kissing you forcefully.
You wished you had the will to push him away, or at least to remember you were mad at him, but his lips felt so warm and soft against yours and it had been so long you couldn’t even try to resist him. You let him take the lead, moaning at the way he basically fucked your mouth with his tongue while his hands travelled up and down your body. 
You gasped when he pulled up your shirt swiftly and the cold breeze caressed your stomach. It reminded you you still hadn’t gone into the house.
“B-baby, shouldn’t we go inside?” you asked.
“Why?” he asked nonchalantly before pulling the shirt even higher, along with your bra. “Like you weren’t about to let the fae prince take you against a tree,” he said sharply and attached his mouth to one of your nipples.
You moaned and threw your head back. “I-I wasn’t going to–”
“I would have killed him,” he said between wet kisses placed on your chest, licking up to your neck. “I would have started a damn war and put the entire town in danger. But you don’t care about that, do you? You just wanted sex.”
“W-with you only–Ah!” you gasped when one of his hands slid inside your pants, cupping your center and patting it roughly.
“I’ll give it to you. Again and again,” he promised, nibbling on your ear. “But don’t say later I didn’t warn you.”
All of a sudden he turned you around so you were facing the forest and he was standing behind you. He held you in place by circling your waist with one hand while the other found its way into your underwear making you squirm nervously. 
“Oh! B-baby, wait–” you wanted to convince him that it was scandalous for him to finger you in such a compromising position where the whole forest could see. “The faes–Oooh!”
“I know, my love. I see them,” Taeyong chuckled by your ear, easing a finger into your entrance. 
“F-fuck!” you moaned. Unlinke Taeyong’s your human eyes could only see some trees in the dark of the night, but it was hunting hour, so you had no doubt someone was out there. Soobin probably hadn’t gone too far. He could be watching this lewd spectacle right now. “It’s so embarrassing…Nngh!”
“Oh, Y/N, don’t be embarrassed,” he panted between messy licks on your neck. He slid a second finger inside of you and curled them in just the right angle to have your vision go blurry and your toes curl. “Soobin wanted to see you cum, so we’re going to show him, yeah?”
You shook your head, but you could feel yourself getting close to your climax. “Taey-aah…Baby I’m s-so sorry, p-please–Ah!”
“If you’re sorry you’re going to cum in my fingers for the entire forest to see,” he dared you, pumping into you faster and pressing his palm against your clit. 
“Taeyong!” you moaned, tilting your head back and resting it on his shoulder as he fingered you furiously with one hand and bounced your tits with the other.
“Come on, come on, Y/N, cum, cum, fucking cum!” he demanded darkly before sinking his fangs into your skin and pressing your G-spot harder. 
For a second you couldn’t breathe. Your body felt light and tingly and the only thing you could focus on was your boyfriend’s raspy voice as he complimented you.
“That’s my mate,” Taeyong cooed, licking the fresh mark on your neck and finally  taking his hand out of your underwear. “From now on only I can make you cum, mmkay?”
You nodded dumbly and allowed your legs to give out, landing on your knees on the grass. That had been so intense you were still coming to terms with the fact that you had had an orgasm in public and, potentially been seen by Soobin. 
More importantly, you had been marked as Taeyong’s, meaning he did want you after all.
Before you had time to celebrate you felt a sharp pain on the back of your head as Taeyong pulled your hair to make you look up. 
The first thing you saw was his massive hard cock as he jerked it slowly, and if you looked a bit higher you could see his red eyes staring back into yours. 
“Suck,” he commanded, pressing the head of his cock against your mouth. 
You didn’t hesitate. You were salivating the moment you saw it and you wanted nothing more but to have it in your mouth, completely forgetting all decorum and the fact that you were still pretty much out in the open. You parted your lips and licked the precum leaking from his tip, making him groan and tighten his grip on your hair.
“I said suck, not lick,” he grunted, pushing the tip past your lips and shuddering at the warmth. “Mmm…yes.”
You sucked on the tip enthusiastically, hollowing your cheeks occasionally to hear him curse, and then taking him deeper…or at least trying to, because even though you had heard about an alpha’s size, nothing could have prepared you for the real thing.
He was barely half way in when you gagged around the tip and a loud moan escaped him. “Ooooh…Oh, Y/N, fuck…”
You tried to get used to the feeling, but he wasn’t feeling patient today so he used his grip on your hair to angle your head in a position to fuck into your mouth comfortably, making you gag again.
“Come on, love, relax your throat,” he instructed, thrusting faster and trying to go deeper, but his size was too much for you. “What was The Moon thinking? Giving an alpha such a delicate human to breed? How will you t-take my knot?” he asked teasingly, but his words caused damage to himself, making his cock twitch at the thought of fucking you somewhere thighter and more wet than your mouth.
You moaned around him, struggling to breath as he kept assaulting your mouth. Luckily he took his member out, allowing you to gasp, desperate for air. 
“Almost there, love,” he grunted, using his cock to slap your cheek. “Open up,” he urged, now slapping your tongue, before he placed both his hands on the back of your head and thrusted into your mouth with full force on more time, rolling his eyes back at the pleasurable feeling of you moaning and gagging around him while his cum filled your throath. “F-fuuuck…,” he breathed out, moving your head harshly from side to side for a little extra stimulation like you were nothing but a toy.
When you thought you would pass out he released you, making you cough loudly and take desperate breaths. 
Once you calmed down, Taeyong kneeled down in front of you and kissed your forehead, which was a crazy contrast to his previous behavior, before he took you in his arms and lifted you up.
“Show’s over,” he said, looking into the dark forest. You still couldn’t see anything, but it was obvious who Taeyong was talking to. “She’s taken,” he added before (finally) carrying you inside.
It finally hit you that he wasn’t finished when you found yourself landing on your bed on your back, with your legs hanging off the side. Taeyong climbed on top of you and looked at you as he caressed your hair. His gentle touch showed you that your sweet boyfriend was still there, even if he wasn’t the one in control of his actions.
He leaned in and licked a string of cum from your cheek to the corner of your mouth, before kissing you. “Don’t say I’m not attracted to you,” he said. He didn’t sound angry anymore, but his tone was serious. “Ever.”
“I’m sorry,” you croaked and coughed a little, your throat still sore.
He nodded, now looking at the trail his fingers were drawing, from the mark on your neck to your still uncovered breasts, and going down your stomach. He then got off the bed and in the blink of an eye he ripped off your pants and panties.
“Tae–” you called his name questioningly, sitting up, but he gently pushed you back on the mattress and kneeled in front of you. 
He kissed your inner tigh slowly, nibbling on it occasionally as he got closer to your center.
“Oh god,” you whispered when blew on your clit before looking into your eyes, sticking his tongue out and immediately flattening it against you. “Ooh! B-baby…ah…”
He moved his head in small circles, slowly, moaning at your taste. Then he licked his way down to your entrance, using his fingers to spread your folds and thrust his tongue inside.
Your back arched and you screamed at the intrusion, and he loved to hear you losing your cool like that, so he pressed his head harder against you, licking and drinking as much of you as he could while his nose teased your clit just enough to drive you insane. Your hands landed on his head, pushing him harder against you and he moaned appreciatively and sliding a digit in along with his tongue.
“Taeyong oh–...Oh my g-god,” you gasped, feeling yourself getting close for the second time.
He knew exactly what to do. He attached his mouth to your clit and sucked on it slowly, but thrusted another finger into you at a faster pace. The contrast was delightful and your body tensed, finally releasing as his tongue circled your clit languidly.
Satisfied, he parted from you, taking his fingers into his mouth to suck on them wantonly. “Mm…Y/N, that was heavenly,” he purred.
You were still registering his words and the tingling feeling in your body when you felt something hot and hard rubbing your pussy. It was finally happening; Taeyong had taken off his pants and underwear and was standing between your legs guiding his cock into you. His size was intimidating, but more than scared, you were eager.
“B-baby,” you gasped at the intrusion.
“Mm?” he hummed, focused on the way your walls squeezed him.
“Take me,” you pleaded and winced when he thrusted more of him inside.
“Y-yeah…” he agreed pushing a bit harder and groaning when he couldn’t get any deeper. “Fuck, Y/N, so tight…” 
He held your ankles against his shoulders, pulled out until only the tip remained inside and then rammed back into you, letting out a shaky breath. “This is…oooh…this is all y-your tiny cunt can t-take…f-fuck,” he grunted building up a steady pace even if he coldn’t fit completely inside.
“Ah–ah, ooh…,” you whimpered, gripping the sheets for support. The pain was being replaced by a pleasant tickle in your lower abdomen, and his breathy moans only made everything a thousand times more erotic.
“N-need to–....,” he licked his lips and pushed your legs towards your body, folding you. “Go deeper…”
“Can’t b-baby, sorry–OOH!!” You moaned in surprise when he climbed on the bed, one foot planted on each side of your body, and he pressed your legs all the way to your chest, and pounded into you using his whole weight. He indeed went deeper than before.
“We c-can,” he mumbled like he was entranced. “We ca–aaah!” he insisted, bouncing on top of you to fuck into you deeper with each thrust. “S-see, my l-love? Your pussy is w-welcoming me, squeezing me s-so good…” he added deliriously. 
Your eyes rolled back when he doubled up the pace. His balls slapped against your ass and he grunted each time he felt himself get a centimeter deeper inside of you. One of your hands travelled down your body to pinch your clit and you tightened around him, making him cum with a throaty groan.
He closed his eyes and filled your cunt with his load with relish. The first of many times to come.
“Haa…Y/N…my mate…,” he breathed out, slowly opening his eyes to look at you with adoration. 
He pulled out slowly, and got off the bed to once again stand between your legs, which he held open to admire the view of his cum spilling out of you.
“Taeyong…” you croaked tiredly. “B-baby, my legs hurt.”
He kissed your calf and put your legs down, but just when you thought you could catch a breath he manhandled you so were on your belly. 
“B-baby?” you asked hesitantly, trying to turn around, but a strong hand on your nape held you in place. 
“Present properly,” he growled with his thick voice.
Instinctively you knew what he meant. You placed your knees on the mattress and arched your back, lifting your lower body while keeping your chest down. 
Taeyong hummed with approval, letting go of your nape to caress your back and then knead your ass cheeks. His hands then travelled down your tighs and pushed them open, allowing his dick to tease your folds and making you clench around nothing. 
“Should have done this since the beginning,” Taeyong murmured, sliding into you slowly. “You wouldn’t have–aah….,” he gasped and his hips faltered when you pushed back to meet him midway. “Shit… you wouldn’t h-have entertained another man’s advances if I had…haa… kept you—Mmh…full…”
“You were t-too busy avoiding me–” you had the audacity to say but were quickly interrupted when he plunged into you hard enough to leave you breathless.
“You have a lot of nerve for someone who c-can’t even…haaa… take me all the way in,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “My bad,” he sneered. “I treated you like a queen when you wanted to be fucked like a whore.”
“You’re so petty when you’re jea– Fuck!” you whined when he positioned one feet on the bed and curled his body over yours, quickening his thrusts.
“You still don’t know your place, hmm?” he muttered darkly as one of his hands drifted towards your folds. “I was too lenient with you. But that stops today,” he grunted rubbing your clit roughly. 
Your brows furrowed with pleasure and you shrieked when your orgasm hit you. Your body tensed and then fell limp on the bed, making him slide out of you, much to his disapproval. 
“We’re nowhere near done, omega,” he purred.
Your eyes snapped open. What?
“W-what did you call me?” you asked, turning around and crawling back cautioslly. 
He followed you, climbing onto the bed and landing on top of you, giving you a passionate kiss. “My omega,” he mumbled in between kisses.
“B-baby I’m,” you sighed when his kisses travelled down your jaw. “I’m not an omega…” you reminded him, caressing his hair gently.
He looked at your face, then at the mark on your neck and then back at your face. Then he laughed softly and shook his head, cupping your face. “You’re confused,” he cooed.
You were astonished. 
He was gone gone.
Is this what he meant when he said he wasn’t himself when in rut?
“Taeyong,” you called his name while he tried to take off your wrinkled shirt and bra. “What’s my name?”
He threw your clothes somewhere on the floor and went for another kiss. “Y/N,” he sighed against your lips. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, my mate, my omega…”
Okay, at least he knew who he was fucking. He was only mistaken about one detail.
““I’m human,baby,” you tried to reason. “Humans can’t be omegas.”
He took his shirt off, and positioned himself between your legs. “Nonsense. Only an omega has hips like these,” he reasoned, looking at your body, enchanted. “Perfect for breeding,” he muttered before sinking into you in one go.
“Oooh! Oh, fuck, fuck,” you whined, arching your back.
“And these tits,” he uttered, leaning down to burry his face between them, kissing, licking, biting. “Perfect to feed our pups.”
You let out soft moans and gave up on trying to reason with him. He was in rut and to be honest, it was turning you even more how pussy drunk he was.
“All you have to do is let me in,” he growled, pushing his hips onto yours harder, still trying to fit it all inside.
“G-god, shit–Aaaah!” you squirmed in his arms.
He sit up and held your hips in a strong grip to start fucking you with intent. He was sweating and grunting, tensing his muscles every time he pushed into you, trying to reach deeper. “Accept me, omega,” he moaned. “Be good.”
“I’m t-trying, baby I– fuck, I d-don’t think it’s possi–Aaaah!!” you screamed when thrusted hard, finally burying his cock into you completely. Your legs shook and you threw your head back, completely caught off guard by an intense orgasm. “T-taeyong—Tae, fuck!”
Taeyong’s jaw had dropped. He himself was shocked at how deliciously good it felt to be one with you. He laughed breathlessly and gave you an open-mouthed kiss, which you barely responded to, as you still hadn’t completely came down from your high.
“See? Y-youre my perfect little omega,” he breathed out, pulling out and fucking back into you, satisfied with the depth of his thrusts. “F-fuh…fuck, Y/N, you feel amazing,” you heard him say when you got back to your senses.
You couldn’t believe this was your sweet, shy boyfriend. His moans were loud and shameless, his words were highly indecorous, his movements were precise but harsh, his body was covered in tattoos you didn’t even know he had, his teeth were displayed in a content smile that seemed sinful with the sounds that came out from his mouth, and his pupils were so dilated you couldn’t even see the red in his eyes.
 Then you looked down and saw a slight bump forming in your tummy along with his thrusts. 
“Oh g-god…Baby y-you’re in my stomach…” you sobbed, making him groan appreciatively.
“Ooohh fuck, yeah,” he hissed, using one of his hands to press down on your lower abdomen and making you whine. “Yes, love, yes, yes,” he murmured.
“S-so big,” you whimpered
“All y-yours, my love,” he cooed, pressing his pelvic bone against your core and rotating his hips.
You  tossed and turned desperately, the stimulation becoming too much for your spent body, and then everything turned black. You coun’t see anything, your ears were ringing and your heart rate slowed. You felt weightless and then came nothing. 
You don’t know how long you were gone, but when you woke up Taeyong looked absolutely deranged, fucking into you fast enough to have the bed shaking and panting like a dog in heat. When you made eye contact he shivered, cumming inside of you with a guttural moan, but he didn’t stop. He winced and kept going like his life depended on it.
He had warned you.
He told you he wouldn’t be able to stop.
You knew there was only one way to calm him down. 
“Oh, baby,” you called for him. “My baby needs t-to knot me?”
He nodded quickly panting, looking at your belly, dazed. “Pups,” was the only coherent word he could say and even that was probably hard to pronounce in such a lust-induced state.
“W-wanna give me your pups?” you taunted, pulling him impossibly closer by circling his waist with your legs. “Make me a mommy?”
He groaned animalistically, snapping his hips hard.
You heard a loud crack. 
And then, before you could comprehend what had happened, the room moved slightly and you felt yourself fall along with Taeyong, and the mattress.
 One of the bed legs bent–or broke, you had no idea–and now you were lying on a slightly bent mattress on the floor with your boyfriend still humping you.
“B-baby—we broke the–Oh!” you tried to speak, but Taeyong couldn’t care less. He was so close and it felt so good he went even harder and faster.
“Haa…,” he panted, furrowing his brows. “Aah–ah haa my–...my omega.”
“Y-yeah,” you nodded, not trying to correct him anymore. “I’m yours, baby–ah! Ah! Oh–AH!”
His eyes rolled back until only the white part was visible, and his tongue lolled out of his mouth as a lewd expression of pure bliss when his knot finally started forming.
“Yeess, baby, g-give it to…aaah! Give it to m-me, come on,” you urged him, using one of your hands to rub your clit.
 Heavy pants were the only thing coming from his mouth. He forced his knot into your entrance and let out a high-pitched moan, cumming so hard he felt dizzy. 
You tossed your head back, stroking your clit faster until you came one more time. This orgasm was not as intense as the others, but Taeyong’s constant spurts of cum inside of you made it feel just as satisfying. 
“Pups,” he repeated, sighing shakily and caressing your stomach and whimpering when his cock twitched and released another string of cum. “T-take my pups…,” he said, finally collapsing on top of you.
“Holy shit, Taeyong,” you breathed out, weakly lifting one of your hands to play with his hair. “You weren’t joking about this whole rut thing.”
He hummed,  looking for your neck to lick his mark possessively.
“But I told you I could handle it–” you continued speaking before he silenced you with a kiss.
“You have no choice now, Y/N,” he said when he pulled away, finally sounding lucid. “You’ll have to endure it until the end.”
You scoffed. “I just did.”
He raised his brows. “You think it’s over?”
“Well, it looks like you’re back to normal now, so…yeah?” 
He stared at you in silence and then sighed.
“Y/N…my ruts last a week,” he said slowly. 
“A week?!” you repeated in disbelief.
“Mhm,” he confirmed. “I gain some clarity back after cumming a few times, but that will probably last about 20 minutes before I’m fucking you again.”
Your eyes widened at the discovery of this information and he tried his best not to laugh.
“But like you said, you can take it, right?” 
1K notes · View notes
letorip · 2 months
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Do you think you can do obsessive Wednesday headcannons? If u can thanks. Also love your headcannons
obsessive wednesday addams headcanons
okay so she may definitely be borderline stalking you a little but it’s out of love, mate. thank you to the anon who submitted, this was fun to think about and thank you for the compliment! genuinely so sorry for the delay, i've been working on so much stuff it's been insane
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you see each other for the first time while she's touring nevermore with enid, wandering the greens on a warm day, and you're sitting under a tree in the shade, at the opposite end with a textbook in your hands and a notebook. you both look up and see each other, and wednesday is immediately transfixed. you just look back down and do your homework
she immediately asks enid who you are, trying to seem disinterested, but enid just shrugs and tells her your name. she learns you live in the hall across from hers and finds herself watching doors for when you come in and out, even if she herself has yet to actually talk to you
she's definitely a little bit disgusted by herself, and how much she clearly wants you right away. it's giving her annoying flashbacks to how much her father is obsessed with her mother, and she realises she does in fact have a crush when she catches herself watching the back of your head in class
you catch her staring once, and send her a kind smile, but you're definitely a bit wary of her, considering there are rumours she killed people at her old school. even though you find her breathtakingly pretty, you're a bit worried by how she's staring at you, that maybe you might be her next victim
you actually strike up a conversation with her first, trying to be kind and welcoming, and wednesday just stares back at you with a blank face, not saying anything and struggling to compute. it's very funny, and wednesday.exe has stopped working. she just watches you talk
'blah blah blah, proper name, place name, backstory stuff'
she has to talk to you next, trying to make up for your weird, one sided conversation. she definitely still has her quirks, but you kind of roll with it, becoming one of her closest allies and friends
once you do actually get together after getting caught in the rain during an investigation and kissing, you start to notice how much wednesday actually listens to you. not in that way where friends listen to each other, but how she laser focuses in on the things you'll say
out of nowhere, she'll buy tickets for a date night, to go see a movie you offhandedly mentioned three weeks ago and never again. she's full of small gifts like that
for your birthday, she buys you a perfume/cologne that's very expensive and you wore six months ago, before you were even dating. you never even told her the scent name or anything, but she somehow figures it out and buys you it with a small note that says 'mi amor' with a small 'w' at the bottom
when you open up to her about your family and stuff, she acts as if she didn't know you had siblings or anything about your parents, but she absolutely, definitely already googled them with help from enid and knows about some of the things you bring up
you're not too sure, but it's possible she has a file on you somewhere in her room. you wouldn't be surprised, still struggling to understand how she remembers all of this stuff you say. she listens to you ramble about anything, and you know she really is truly listening, and not just hearing, like exes have in the past
your exes still do bother her a little. not in a way that she'll ever mention to you out loud, but she'll grip your hand a bit tighter as if trying to hold you to herself, or dramatically roll her eyes if they ever come up in conversation
you'll find old sweaters of yours in wednesday and enid's shared room, thrown over her chair or hung up in her closet. you remember giving her one or two, but not as many as she has, and she has to explain to you, while a little bid of red peeks onto her pale face, that she likes that they smell like you. she of course tells you, "don't get obnoxious about this," afterwards, but you just smile and shake your head. once you're done hanging out that night, you leave your hoodie on her bed while she goes to brush her teeth, and slip out with a single goodbye kiss, leaving it for her to find
she likes how warm you feel to the touch. she doesn't usually like warm things, but she'll lay right on top of you and tuck her head into the crook of your neck or right under your chin
wednesday memorises the curves and planes of your body, and she loves the familiarity it brings after a long day. it does quite genuinely feel like home to her, when she's laying against you
when you have a petty argument that's far from anything serious, you wake up in the middle of the night during a rainstorm, to see wednesday, sopping with rain in the middle of your room. her lip is bit, like she's stopping herself from crying, water dripping from her bangs, and she begs you not to go, apologising right there on the spot. it's a softness that catches you off guard, and you have to dry her off and explain that you weren't going to leave her because of the disagreement
she watches you sleep sometimes, when she's snuck over to your room. she likes to watch your chest rise and fall and the level of peace on your face as you rest. she'll pretend to be asleep when you turn over or stir, and sometimes you'll smirk as she watches you and mumble, "i know you're looking, wednesday."
she denies these sorts of things, especially at first, but when you don't shame her about it or bring it up that often, she becomes more comfortable in her little quirks and obsession over you
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was very cute? not sure if you wanted to go into stalker territory, but it almost somewhat did
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silkscream · 9 months
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blessing
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ੈ✩ yuuta okkotsu x reader
ੈ✩ cw: smut (minors dni, ageless + blank blogs will be blocked), unprotected sex, soft dom!yuuta, dacryphilia, oral sex, overstimulation, delayed orgasms, he's a little mean, slight yandere vibes because. it's yuuta.
ੈ✩ wc: 1.1k
ੈ✩ a/n: i'm on my soft dom!yuuta agenda. i also can't write him without feeling fucking insane
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yuuta okkotsu is a gentleman. he holds the door open for you, gives you his jacket when you’re cold, has your ramen order memorized. everything about him is gossamer-soft, too. the cadence of his speech, the lithe way he moves, even though his lankiness has been replaced with lean muscle since you first met him.
yuuta okkotsu is gentle. just not when he fucks you.
it’s ironic, though, because his tone is still gentle. the rasp of his voice is low, quietly masculine, haunting, but still full of adoration. it’s alluring more than anything. he reminds you of the vampires you used to lust over from your childhood fantasy books. dark hair, dark eyes.
the essence of him is unfathomable to you — you can’t find the word for it, but it’s something akin to eve’s apple. how tempting he is, how much you’d let him ruin you, bruise the fruit of your flesh with his teeth.
he tells you to open your mouth. at the moment, he’s in between your legs, mouth slick with your cum, and he reaches to set his fingers onto your tongue. a small push and you choke on the taste of yourself.
it’s dirty. but when it’s yuuta, it purifies you. makes you his angel. you believe him like a god when he tells you as such.
“so sweet, don’t you think?” he murmurs. “my sweet girl. the best girl, yeah?”
“yes,” you cry.
he’s coaxed at least three orgasms from you in the past hour with his mouth and fingers alone. with bliss also comes pain, and the way he coos your name and calls you his good fucking girl feels like a divine reward in itself. he licks your tears, pride swelling in his chest.
“how about another for me, huh, baby?” he bites into the meat of your thigh as he circles your clit with his fingertip again, chuckling at the way you shake.
“i—i can’t."
“can’t?” yuuta raises a brow. he looks beautiful in between your legs. there’s something oddly terrifying about it despite how beautiful. “i know you can. i know you will.”
“yuuta, please—”
“you’ve done it before, haven’t you? usually take whatever i give you, every fucking time, right?”
“s’too much,” you sob.
he tuts. rounds his full lips into a taunting pout.
“want my cock, then, don’t you? poor girl, you should’ve just asked.”
(you couldn’t have. you know better.)
“please, please—”
you don’t even get to finish begging before he’s buried inside you. pushed to the hilt, his tip kissing your cervix with bruising force. he wipes away your tears as if he isn’t the cause of them.
“too rough?”
“n-no.”
but it hurts. it hurts in the way it feels too good, too sensitive after the amount he’s made you cum. he hasn’t even been inside you for a full minute and you already feel the ache in your abdomen ready to burst into flames.
the sweet nothings he whispers into your temple are loving and affectionate, but the way he rolls his hips into you is mean. he has his hand snake up to squeeze your breast, nicking your nipple with the grit of his teeth just so he can hear you mewl like a wounded kitten. it’s one of his favorite sounds.
his palm settles on your neck after, gentle still despite his other hand nearly bruising the fat above your hip.
he knows you’re close from the way your eyes blank out, glazed over in bliss as he tightens his hand around your throat.
“close, baby, i’m—”
and then the bastard stops. chuckles against your jaw at the way you cry as he thrusts into you so agonizingly slow. unsteady. taunting.
“yuuta!”
“’m sorry baby, did you wanna cum? i just thought you wanted me to hold out for longer. it’s nice like this, see?”
“fuck, yuu—”
“that’s not very nice,” he grins. he ruts into you extra hard, just once.
“that’s not what i meant,” you whine.
“wanna cum? just ask.”
you know you can’t just ask. you know he means he wants you to beg.
“pleasemakemecum, please, please!”
“yeah, why should i?”
“’cause ‘m your girl,” you slur. he loves you like this. wet mouth all slack, cheeks flushed like a nymph in a baroque painting.
he pulls out, then, drawing out another moan from you, just to flip you over onto your stomach. your hair is bunched up into his fist while his teeth are on your shoulder. when you feel him again, your walls full of him, you feel even dizzier than before.
“yeah, my good fucking girl,” he groans against your skin. “so good. so sweet to me.”
yuuta has never been an apostle of hedonism. he’s always reserved himself, the parts of him that wanted, thinking that his love and devotion would only curse other people.
when you came along and loved him so irrevocably, he felt reborn. drunk on pleasure. being with you makes him realize that it’s okay to take. he deserves it, doesn’t he, after everything?
you have him on a leash and you don’t even know. it’s why he likes to play with you so cruelly like this — to have his cake and eat it, too. because the way he controls you in the oasis of your bedroom, the way he marks you up and swallows you down like honey — it’s what you want as much as him. and he’d rather die than not give you everything you want. even if he’s a little mean.
if he was a curse of a boy, you were his blessing.
“yuuta, i’m gonna cum,” you gasp. as you clutch the bedsheets, he covers your hand with his, engulfing it, entangling your fingers together. “cum with me, please—”
he wants to open his mouth to speak, anything to push you over the edge, but he’s as breathless as you are. consumed in your skin, in your cunt. he pulls your face toward his, instead, swallowing down your moans as he spills inside of you. you convulse, your orgasm like a lightning strike.
yuuta laughs softly against your mouth and soothes the bruised parts of you with his palms gently.
“you were so mean today,” you sigh.
“i’m sorry, baby,” he says, nuzzling your neck. “had a bad day, but i feel much better now. let me run you a bath, okay?”
you hum dreamily as your lover leaves you. the fuzz in your head satiates you. empty-minded except for him. and when he has you in warm water, hands washing your wet hair, yuuta feels blessed. baptized in tenderness.
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writingbynova · 1 month
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Nanami Kento
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⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ⊹ : Husband!Nanami x wife fem!reader - explicit content; minors DNI - pwp (porn with plot) - kitchen sex - room sex - breeding kink - mating press position - doggy style - overstimulation - praising kink - [un]protected sex - multiple orgasms - pet names (darling, baby) - creampie - (let me know if I missed any tags)
Word count: ~2.5k
Notice: heyy, first of all id like to apologize for the extra long delay, I was extremely busy and my birthday came up. Sorry about that !! I'll try to upload something tomorrow to compensate but I might be a tad offline as I'm going on vacation. I'd also like to thank you all for the support on my previous posts, I am so grateful and I appreciate it very dearly.
Enjoy!!
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Nanami was the perfect husband. He catered to his wife's every need and request without any compromises. The beach house was isolated enough so you could scream and moan his name to your heart's content. And he made it his personal mission to answer all your demands, especially the ones that'd leave you a bred, fucked out, messy puddle.
He turned around, stretching out his arms to feel you, only to be met with the touch of...nothing. His brows furrowed as he opened his eyes to see you weren't in the room. He cursed lowly, before getting up still half asleep. Nanami had a lot of favorite things.  waking up next to you was one of them, he'd lay right beside you, watching you peacefully sleep, syncing with your heartbeat before, against his will but for a good reason, leaving the bed to make you breakfast. Needless to say, he was in total infatuation with you, his eyes never left you, his gaze was stuck on your figure, admiring you. He could never get enough, enough of kissing you, enough of cuddling you, enough of fucking you, he had you in the palm of his hand but still, he wanted more, he needed more.
He wandered around the house stumbling into different rooms, looking for you, in the bathroom, the balcony.
You dipped your hands in the dough, folding in the flour, once the dough was good enough you separated it into square shaped molds, and put the batch in the oven. You leaned on the counter, admiring the sunrise through the kitchen window. The view was beautiful. Kento had picked the resort. A beach house with a nice patio. The sound of the waves woke you up and rocked you to sleep. It was like a dream come true.
"Why'd you leave me?"
You removed your headphones and turned around to see Ken wrapping his hands around your waist then laying over your back.
"Hi Ken, I wanted to let you sleep"
"Can't sleep when you're not in my arms baby, what are you doing down so early?" He questioned, nuzzling you.
You turned around to hold him in your arms, he looked up to you. His eyes could make you melt. You read right through them. Arousal adorned his face.
Maybe this apron was doing something to him, he clung onto you for dear life.
"I didn't know you couldn't sleep without me darling, I'm making homemade bread, I thought you'd like some for breakfast. You can go back to bed if u want, I'll wake you up when breakfast is ready"
His head rested upon your shoulder
"Mhm no, for breakfast I want you, right here on the counter" he mumbled
You blinked in surprise, squeezing your thighs together.
"I thought you wouldn't be able to after last night..." you laughed.
Since you had gotten on your honeymoon you had sex all the time. All, The, Time. He loved sliding his face between your thighs, while you relaxed on the deck, the way your thighs tried going against his arms only to be spread further apart. He loved the way you'd stumble when walking right after. He loved carrying you to the room when you expected it the least just to absolutely defile you. He loved the way your pussy swallowed him whole. The sound of your voice pleading for release, over and over again. You had absolutely no idea if your body could take it, just the thought of it made your legs wobble but your pussy was hungry and wet.
"Seeing you, like this, in the kitchen so early, bothering yourself, for me. How peaceful you looked... I just' want you so bad"
Hungry. Hungry would be the best word to describe how his voice sounded. His hands roamed around your hips with lust, then slipped under the dress your apron covered to rub your panties. A wicked smile spread across his face "already wet for me ?" He asked, his thumb, sliding up and down the wet fabric. "Always am for you..." You answered, tracing circles on his shoulder.
"Oh yeah? well, let's see exactly how ready you are yeah ?" His fingers went around your panties, slowly rubbing around your dripping cunt. You tried concentrating on your breath, to forget how greedy your body was, how greedy you were whenever it came to him.
How greedy you were, slowly rolling your hips on his fingers. Of course it amused him "Let's take things further, shall we ?"
You moaned into your dress sleeve, tears slipping out of your puffy eyes. He was digging into you, his hands tightly gripping your hips.
The morning air barely had the time to set, your moans were already covering the bird's chirping. You held onto the counter for dear life, while he was giving you the meanest thrusts ever.
"Missed you so much...too much—"
He groaned. It was as if his entire body went in a trance as soon as you captured his cock, nothing else mattered, fucking you nice and dumb was his only goal.
On the other hand your body was addicted to him. He had you in all your states as soon as his eyes were laid on you. No matter the time the place, he'd barely touch you, yet. And you could already feel yourself throbbing, pulsating at the idea of his thick cock stretching you like his personal fuck doll. Oh that idea had you drooling. Since you got married those ideas were daily. Morning sex was pretty much mandatory, lunch was cock warming, afternoons were spent fooling around naked around the house, evenings were spent cuddling which is perhaps the only wholesome activity you had, and nights, well nights were dragged with filth. He made sure to pick a pretty isolated location so you could scream his name all you wanted. Just walking around the house had you reminiscing about the sex-session you had at those exact spots. And he always made sure you remembered. Always made it his mission to remind you how good you felt getting fucked under the shower. How well you swallowed his cum on the couch. How pretty the sunset was when he fucked you on the sliding glass window. You'd think you wouldn't be able to walk, well that wasn't too far from the truth but still, yes still your body could not go seconds without him, he animated all your thoughts. It'd be a lie to say you hadn't wished for him taking you over the counter like he currently was.
Your voice served as praising to him, he loved and thrived in listening to your broken voice, mewling out his name, repeatedly. He, more than anything else, absolutely adored the fact that he was the one provoking such reactions in you. Whatever you did got him hard, the tanning lines your bikini made on your body were his favourite, he nearly fucked the consciousness out of you that afternoon.
Today might not be a 'nearly', but rather a definitely. Seeing you in an apron ? Baking his favourite bread, for him ? Oh he went feral. And even that was an understatement.
"Always so tight for me, baby"
He groaned burying his cock, deep into your hole. It felt euphoric, each thrust made your mind slip away, each thrust nearly made him cum. Your body craved him, you craved him. And he knew just exactly how to satisfy your hunger.
His hips were bouncing you on the cold countertop, while you desperately languished for release "wouldn't be funny though if I didn't torture my favourite spot right ?" He whispered
You were perfectly fucked out of your mind, to the point where you didn't mind or have the strength to realize his hand pulling you up close to him, but enough so you were able to plead his name for release when his thumb went abusing your tired swollen bud. Sending butterflies right to your lower stomach.
His thrust might have slowed but the motions on your clit had just amplified, he used one of his arms to keep you close to him, wrapping it around your chest, keeping you in place. Your legs could barely keep you up on the floor, actually they couldn't you'd probably collapse if he wasn't holding you right now. "Make a mess baby I know you want to" he whispered into your ear, his voice guiding you as you came, frantically whining in hopes to release your high. " 'm not done with you sweetheart just relax, you're alright, just keep... creaming all around my cock... atta girl" he praised, his voice soothing you.
You shivered as his length retired from your pulsating hole, not for long though.
You were against the wall, as his cock teased your starved hole. How cruel he was..
"Please Ken...want more..need more of you"
He pressed his tip on you. "You need more ? I have vowed to satisfy all my wife's needs." His length slowly disappeared in you.  "I guess if you need it...I could be nice and give it to you."
He was obviously torturing you, slowly agonizingly you and you were slowly losing your mind.
"Ken...breed me. Please."
You had been meaning to express this wish to him for a while now. Now seemed like the right time or was it? Too bad screenshoting faces is impossible because his was absolutely immaculate. And so was the shock on your face when he rammed into you with what felt like all his strength. Your arms immediately wrapped around his shoulder for support, while your screams and moans, paired with the squelching sound your pussy was airing. Absolutely filth. "Want me...to plant my seed in you baby ? Oh your wishes are my orders" he laughed, using one arm to keep your leg up.
You were totally impaled on his cock, the tip of his dick nuzzling your cervix. "Come for me baby, come on. Cream my thick cock one more time and I'll make it my pleasure to breed that pretty pussy of yours." True. Your brain didn't register a single word he uttered, but your body knew, oh it knew exactly what it wanted. His words worked like a charm, you simply managed to cry out a faint squeal to warn him. The knot in your stomach snapped, your shivers synced with your throbbing, jolting while your pussy covered him. The white sticky substance running down your thigh. He groaned in the crook of your neck, his hand caressing your lower back.
"Atta girl"
The idea of breeding you aroused him to lengths, The way your breath would hitch with every kiss he dropped, working his way up your thighs to plant another one on your wetness. Collecting all your spilled filth on the way. "So soft" he muttered against your skin, his hot breath fanning against your sensitive bud.
"Don't tease Kento... please" you breathed, your eyes scanning his moves. His fingers digging in your thighs. His eyes locked on the slick covering your pussy. The precum leaking from his tip. "Mhm, am not teasing, just making sure this pussy's ready to take my cum...looks like she is, perfectly wet for me."
His arms pushed your thighs up, until they pressed against your chest. The mating press. giving him the perfect angle on your puffy pussy. Your body didn't even have the strength to move, you were all limp in his hold.
He looked like he'd go crazy any second from now. His tip pressed against your slit, he hadn't even started and you were already throbbing,  silently pleading to feel him.
He obviously, obliged, trusting his cock to let his tip meet your cervix. You felt overwhelmed all over, his mouth met yours, he was softly kissing you, contrasting with his ruthlessness down there. His tongue caught yours, muffling your screams. Somehow he was hitting all the right spots, you could burn over right now, it felt too good, entirely too good, the veins decorating his cock rubbed and messed with your walls, with each of his vigorous thrust. His tip directly kissed your insides like never before, his hand lightly pressed on your lower stomach, pushing and pushing you over and over again off the edge, like a game. His favorite one. Watching pleasure beat you so easily.
You throbbed around him for dear life, blabbering nonsense about how you "can't take more" and how he "mustn't stop" of course accompanied by your usual dose of "please"
His thrusts went with you, slowing down to let you breath as you recovered from your high then his pace slowly resumed. You pulled his hand back and forth, instructing him on the pace he should use. Until you couldn't anymore. You threw your head back, calling him, desperately, repeatedly. And he answered like he always did "I know baby, I'm here, I know"
"feels good huh?"
"You deserve all this pleasure darling, just, for, you"
"Just let me breed you, just like you need it"
Your moans were solely a soundtrack behind the filthy sound his skin slapping yours made. He lost his rhythm, frantically pounding you, his hips shuddered and he thrust one more time, grunting your name, again and again. Your shaky hands played with his hair. His hips stayed close to yours. His chest slowly rising up and down. But his eyes didn't leave your hole, he dragged himself out, a trail of white liquid leaking onto the bed.
Your chest hovered up and down, while you quietly squirmed at the feeling.
Almost immediately, his tip came back. Filling you. Once more.
Your knees clutched together, at this point you didn't even know if you could come anymore. Drained was how you felt, your brain didn't register any more information, just the overbearing pleasure that was messing with your ability to think, speak and act.
Exactly how he loved seeing you. Brainlessly hung up on his cock, drunk of his cum, fully submitted to him. He grew harder and harder each time you screamed his name with your whiny broken voice. He couldn't get enough, he needed more.
"Kento..K-Kento! Kento—?" you whined breathlessly.
"...Need to taste you...just some more—" he struggled to say. His breathe fanned against your neck, his hips didn't take a single break relentlessly fucking you brainless.
"I'm gonna breed— you darling, 'm gonna breed you all night everyday, am sure you'll love it" he purred in your ear.
You could feel him, feel every single inch of him. Each and every drop of cum he pumped into you had your brain swinging. His arms wrapped you nice and tight until he was done. Done breeding you. Finally satisfying the ravaging hunger that burned through you.
After that everything else was pretty much a blur. You passed out in his arms, woke up around noon, had brunch, slept again. When you, actually, woke up you were nuzzled up on his chest on the patio. The sun had already began setting, the shore was beautiful, so was he.
His gaze lingered on the beach
"You're awake ?"
You nodded at him, your throat was dry and hurting. "A-ahh how long did I sleep for ?" You were taken aback by your hoarse broken voice. He smiled softly, gently caressing your cheek. "you slept pretty much all afternoon, you must be starving though. I made dinner."
You sighed. Closing your eyes to let the coastal air run along your skin. You both stayed silent like that for a moment, just enjoying each other's company. "Kento?"
He hummed, his eyebrow perking up "yes darling?"
"You'll make a wonderful Dad."
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Thank you for reading!! Hope u enjoyed ♡♡
I'd like to add I'm currently writing a fanfiction which will be posted on my AO3 account, so uploads might take a while
And again sorry for the delay ಥ⁠_⁠ಥ
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too-much-tma-stuff · 5 months
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Finally Getting Help (prt 16)
Masterpost
Sorry for the delay on this part! And there might be more to come, I thought of a new AU that's devouring my brain XD I'll still be working on this it's just going to be slightly slower.
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Jason sat next to Danny, holding his limp hand as Bruce flew them back to the cave and landed gently. “Do we have a way to contact Frostbite?” Jason asked as they wheeled Danny into the Cave’s med bay.
“Yes, as long as Constantine isn’t too drunk,” Batman said dryly. 
“If he is, I'll sober him up real quick,” Jason responded just as dryly. Batman chuffed out a soft laugh before pulling out his Justice League communicator and called Constantine. 
After hearing Constantine was on his way, and grabbing a domino mask, Jason tuned out the conversation, returning to Danny’s side, taking his hand again. Jason jolted slightly when Danny’s fingers twitched and curled slightly around his own. 
“Danny?” He asked softly, leaning over his boyfriend.
Danny’s brow pinched just a little and then he opened his eye, squinting up at Jason. He held his breath as Danny blinked and looked around before letting out a soft groan and closed his eyes tightly for a moment. 
“Hey, how do you feel,” Jason asked softly as Bruce finished the call and hustled over to check Danny’s vitals. 
“Thirsty, like I was hit by a bus,” Danny croaked but there was a flicker of a smile around his mouth. “Where are we?”
“I’ll get you some water,” Jason said, squeezing Danny’s hand before hurrying to grab a water bottle. 
“You’re in the bat-cave, you passed out after the fight. We’ve gotten in contact with Frostbite, he should be here soon.” Batman told Danny, as soft as he ever was behind the mask. 
“I passed out huh?” Danny sighed, pushing himself up with a soft groan and accepted the bottle of water from Jason once he’d opened it for Danny. He drank deeply and sighed with relief. “Frostbite doesn’t need to come though, I almost always pass out after using my wail, and twice in one night? I must have conked out for a bit longer than usual, nothing to worry about really.” 
“We’d still feel better having you looked over,” Bruce said just as gently 
“Yep, and hey, while he’s here maybe he can look me over too. We talked about me having an appointment with him,” Jason pointed out. He knew that Danny would feel better if it wasn’t just for him.
As Jason sort of suspected he would, Danny paused, then sighed and nodded, laying back down on the gurney with a little groan. Fine,” He sighed softly, handing the bottle back to Jason who set it aside for Danny. “What happened to Vlad?” 
“He got away,” Bruce said with a sigh. “Spoiler, Blackbat, and Red Robin are still looking for him but so far without success.” Bruce said with a frustrated set to his jaw.
“I hope they’re being careful. I’m sorry, I should have guessed he would be tracking me. You’re not hurt, are you?” He asked, looking at Jason worriedly. 
“I’m completely fine. And they will be too, they’re tough and they have the tech you build for them,” Jason promised Danny with a reassuring little smile. 
“I hope so,” Danny groaned. “God Vlad is such a bastard.”
A green portal opened in the middle of the Bat-cave and a giant yeti like ghost came charging out with a very frazzled looking John Constantine on his heels. “Is the Great One alright?!” The yeti asked worriedly. 
“Ya Frostbite I’m fine,” Danny promised, sitting up again and giving him a little smile. “I just overused my powers again.” Danny didn’t seem surprised when Frostbite came charging over and scooped him up in a tight enough hug that it made Danny wheeze. Jason and Bruce got out of the way and gave Constantine a curious look, he gave them a helpless shrug. “But I still need to breathe,” He gasped and Frostbite quickly put him down again, apologizing all the while. 
“I’m glad you are alright! But it’s about time for a check up for you and the little ones anyway,” Frostbite said warmly before suddenly noticing Batman and Jason, he had been too sign mindedly focused on Danny previously. “Oh! Hello,” He greeted brightly. 
“Frostbite, this is my new guardian Batman, and my boyfriend Jason,” Danny said, using his civilian name since Jason wasn’t in costume. 
“Ah! Wonderful to meet you!” Frostbite said, offering his big hand for Bruce to shake, who accepted, and tried not to seem taken aback by just how enthusiastically Frostbite shook it. He nearly lifted Bruce off the ground! At least when Jason’s turn came he was prepared. “It’s good to know he’s finally away from the Fenton’s, they were terrible guardians. He and the little ones will be safe with you, yes?” There was a hint of a warning in his voice and the temperature dropped a few degrees.
“Yes, of course,” Batman said firmly. “I will do my best to protect them and provide a safe environment.”
Frostbite nodded and looked at Jason.
“I’ll do my best to make him happy,” Jason said a little lamely, but Frostbite seemed to accept it. 
“Excellent!” Frostbite said brightly again and turned back to Danny. 
“Once we’re done can you have a look at Jason?” Danny asked Frostbite. “He died too, and has had some trouble since coming back.”
“Of course, Great One. But we will be giving You a thorough check up first,” Frostbite insisted. Danny gave a resigned sigh and nodded.
Danny sat back down on the cot and let Frostbite examine him. Since neither objected to Bruce and Jason’s presence so they both stayed to watch, and support Danny if he needed it. Constantine wandered off, he wasn’t part of the family after all, this was none of his business. 
The check-up was… odd, it mostly consisted of Frostbite waving his hands around Danny, occasionally touching very deliberate places, while asking him questions about how he was feeling, physically and emotionally, and what had happened. He touched the center of Danny’s forehead, his chest, every time he did little waves of blue light went through Danny. The one over Danny’s stomach made him gasp softly and Frostbite frowned at him, Danny smiled back sheepishly. 
“Can you show me your core?” Frostbite asked, pulling back.
Danny nodded and reached into his own chest, something Jason would never get used to seeing, and drew out his core. Jason hadn’t seen it before, he thought it was absolutely beautiful, the most perfect sapphire he’d ever seen, glowing silver blue with an opalescent sheen, it looked like a miniature planet, like it might contain an entire world.
Batman had seen it before, and he knew that it looked significantly dimmer then it had been the first time Danny had showed it to him. That was… concerning. Frostbite seemed to think so too by the way he was frowning at Danny. He pulled out some sort of souped up magnifying glass from somewhere and started to examine Danny’s core, though he didn’t once touch it. 
“There are no cracks or chips, you simply overused your powers,” Frostbite said, putting away the magnifying glass and gesturing for Danny to put away his core. “I’m surprised honestly, for most leaving your Fraid and your haunt like you did would have caused far more damage. It’s testament to how well your current caretakers are looking after you that you’ve weathered the transition so well.
“I wouldn’t try to use your powers for about a week to let your ectoplasm regenerate. There’s significantly less here then there was in Amity Park, there’s still plenty to sustain you but you’ll need to ration it’s use a little bit to have enough for you and the little ones to develop properly.” Frostbite said with a definitive nod. 
“I will, if I can,” He promised, looking down. “I wasn’t exactly expecting to be attacked this time. What happens if I Do overuse my powers too much?” Danny asked, glancing up at his Doctor.
“Well-” Frostbite started and then stopped himself, looking down at Danny consideringly. “I’m not entirely sure. With a regular ghost the child would either take significantly longer to form properly, or the parent might even retreat into their own core and lose the baby. But you are still living, and the babies have flesh forms as well, yes?” Danny nodded and Frostbite tilted his head slightly. “It’s… possible that even if you deplete yourself you and the babies will be alright, your ghost form would retreat and you and the babies will be, for all intents and purposes, fully human for a time. But I would not test that! There are too many ways it could go wrong.”
“Oh I don’t want to test it,” Danny said with a wry smile and a shake of his head. “Like you said, it’s kind of amazing my core is in as good shape as it is with all the changes lately, and if it broke it would End me, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes,” Frostbite said ruefully, patting Danny’s shoulder sympathetically “But let's not focus on that! You and the babies are doing well! here , drink this,” He produced a little vile of a viscous glowing green liquid and patted Danny’s shoulder, which was apparently his queue to hop off the cot. He drank the liquid like a shot and handed the vile back to Frostbite who stowed it back in whatever liminal space he’d been pulling all of these things from. 
“Are you ready?” Danny asked Jason. Resting a hand on his arm. Oh right, Jason had almost forgot he was going to be getting a check-up too. 
“Ya, sure,” Jason agreed with a sharp nod. He was nervous, seeing Danny’s interactions with Frostbite had put some of it at ease but he was still a bit scared about what Frostbite would find. 
“Can I hold your hand?” Danny asked, knowing Jason needed it, but wouldn’t ask. Jason nodded again and went to sit on the cot like Danny had. Danny stayed next to him and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. 
“Alright! What seems to be the trouble?” Frostbite asked Jason, warm and sympathetic. 
“Well, I died a while ago. I came back and we don’t totally know why, I went through some shit, got dunked in stuff we call Lazarus Water, which heals the sick and kills the healthy, and occasionally resurrects people. And I’ve been having issues ever since. I can’t control my emotions well, I have violent outbursts and dissociative episodes, I do things without knowing I am, or remembering it sometimes?” Jason said, glancing at Danny who gave him an encouraging smile. “None of this happened before I died and came back, I really don’t think it’s trauma either. Danny confirmed there was something wrong.”
Frostbite hummed and looked back at Danny, who nodded. “I did, I mean, I don’t really know what I was looking at but it did feel… off,” He said with a helpless little shrug.
“Alright, I’ll have a look,” Frostbite agreed and gently rested a clawed finger against Jason’s forehead. Cols rushed down over him, not refreshing cool water like it had been with Danny but freezing cold. It made Jason gasp and tense but he refused to pull away. Slowly a frown formed on the ghost doctor's face and he tutted. Well that was a bad sign. 
“Frostbite,” Danny said, a warning tone in his voice.
“Ah! My apologies! It’s nothing as bad as what you might think! I haven’t seen something like this in a very long time. Granted I rarely have occasion to tend to mortals but…” He trailed off and pulled back, the feeling of ice against Jason’s skin vanished. “Your resurrection was botched. You are alive, but it’s not…” Frostbite seemed to think about the best way to explain this. 
“Your soul was never given the chance to enter your body properly. I would guess when you ‘came back’ it was as an undead rather than a truly living person. Then the Lazarus Water resurrected your body and bound your soul back to your body, the way that it had previously been, which was not entirely… inside your body. 
“You’re soul and your body are not quite one being. It’s like a bone that broke and was not set before healing properly, it created some… spiritual nerve damage.” He saw Jason’s look of confusion and sighed. “I’m sorry, this is hard to explain to the living.”
“So, that’s causing all my issues?” Jason asked hesitantly. 
“Yes and no, it also seems to have damaged your ability to process the lingering ectoplasm from your ghost, and the Lazarus Water, which seems to be a corrupted ectoplasm. I suspect those are causing the emotional outbursts,” He said. “I’d need a sample of Lazarus Water to confirm that.” 
“I can get you that,” Bruce rumbled. “So, how can we fix this?” He asked, always blunt and to the point. 
“It’s not that simple. How would you fix a bone that healed wrong?” Frostbite asked.
“In a lot of cases… you have to break it again,” Jason said with a wince. 
“Yes, now we will Not do that, killing and resurrecting you again with the hopes it would be correct this time is far too risky. I mean to say with how set your soul is in its current position this is going to be a very long process with an unclear prognosis. I suspect just spending time around the Great One will help,” Frostbite said, gesturing at Danny. “Infusions of uncorrupted ectoplasm will hopefully clear out the corrupted stuff and ease the emotional issues. It may also strengthen your soul which, as long as you are at peace inside yourself, will help it settle back into its proper place. 
“You should know that it is possible that if you are entirely at odds with yourself, strengthening your soul might have the opposite effect of allowing it to pull even further away from your body. Managing your support system and obsessions will be crucial to recovery. Phantom can help you with that as well, he has more experience,” Frostbite said gently. “It’s important to remember that most ailments of the soul have an emotional element to them, and not try to find fast and easy fixes that will make things worse in the long run.” 
“I understand,” Jason said numbly. He really had been hoping there would be some clear easy fix. 
Danny squeezed Jason’s hand and Jason looked at him and was greeted by a warm smile. “The important thing to remember is we know what’s wrong now, and that things can get better. You’re already on the right track reconnecting with family and being with me.”
Jason took a deep breath and nodded, Danny was right. This had been going on for years now, nothing had really changed just because he knew. It wasn’t like he was getting diagnosed with something terminal. “Right,” Jason agreed with a nod and took a deep breath, shaking his head and rolling his shoulders. “Right, thanks Frostbite.”
“It’s my pleasure! I’ll supply Phantom with the pure ectoplasm, he knows how to administer it well enough. I shall come check up on both of you again in a month’s time, but I should be going now!” Frostbite said, hugging Danny again tightly before wandering off, muttering about wondering where that magician got off to.
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mythicmanuscripts · 2 months
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his favourite position for handjobs is to sit between your legs and lean back against your chest, it gives you full access and he feels so safe.
Also while doing this you play with his nipples which are just so sensitive. He looses his mind when he’s got dual sensory going on no thoughts only pretty wife’s hands making him feel so good
I just went back to the end of my askbox and I was so so so certain that I answered this? Anyway, sorry for the delay!
NSFW sub!aemond with his wife below the cut.
I can't stop thinking about dual sensory stimuli with sub!aemond now and I honestly think it's such a good idea? Aemond gets stuck in his head sometimes, and no matter how much he wants to be present in the moment, he sometimes just can't.
The first few times this happens he really beats himself up for it because he wants so badly to just relax and focus on you and let you do whatever you want with him. But it's like his head just won't shut off and he doesn't know what to do. You can feel how stiff he is every time you touch him, and when you suggest just stopping for the evening, he gets even more distressed? Because he wants this, he just can't seem to make his mind agree with him.
You stumble on dual sensory stimuli completely by accident the first time. He's kneeling for you, trying to relax and when you see that isnt working you move him to the bed and have him sit between your legs. Originally you just did this because you know he loves to be held and you hope that this will make him feel safer.
Once he's in position, you start by just running your hands up and down his body, gently scraping your nails across his skin. You end up gently pinching his nipples and then touching his cock and he just instantly gasps? It's that beautiful, breathy gasp he makes when he's overwhelmed in the bed way possible.
So you do them both again and again, and then it's like you can physically feel him melting into you. He relaxes back against you, turning his head to nuzzle into your neck and whimpers when you swop to scratching down his inner thighs and playing with his cock.
"You with me?" you ask him gently, kissing his cheek. You want to make sure he's happy and not stuck in his head anymore, even though you can tell by his reactions that that is almost certainly the case.
In response, he simply nods against your neck and mumbles something that sounds a lot like 'wife' in Valerian. Then you know you've got him exactly where you want him.
You consider edging him, but decide against it. He struggled so much to get into this calm, plaint headspace and you don't want him to be pushed too hard now. You just want him to float.
You give him permission when he starts to beg, and almost immediate his back arches away from you and he's cumming. He gasps and shakes in your arms, mumbling his thanks in between pants.
When he finally relaxes, he curls his legs up across your lap to be sideways against you and nuzzle against your breasts. He's completely plaint now, not an ounce of tension in his entire body.
When you try to move to a more comfortable position, he whines and clings even tighter to you.
"You happy here?" you ask him, giggling ever so slightly because he's just so perfect like this.
He simply nods and closes his eyes, finally able to relax properly.
(Also, very quick sidenote: while Aemond obviously loves dual sensory stimuli and it's something that Aegon would actively ask for, I think it's quite possibly the worst thing you could do to Jace? The poor thing is already so so sensitive when only one part of his body is being touched, two is simply too much for him)
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eddiernunson · 25 days
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Bikinis, Ice Cream and Other Ways To Torture Him | Older Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Harrington Fem!Reader | 18+
Prev |
Summary: The stories of Eddie Munson, front man of Corroded Coffin and his music filled the Harrington household, his albums on shelves and picture frames hung of your dad and him, young and dumb. You’re home for the weekend, which happens to be the same weekend Eddie is in Hawkins on a personal errand. The longtime crush bubbles to the surface as you meet him, giving into the temptation of small summer dresses and bubblegum gloss for the fun of it. Until your dad is called in to an emergency work meeting. Then the fun of torture becomes temptation.
Warnings: Older Rockstar!Eddie, Harrington!Reader (Steve’s daughter), use of excessive nicknames, no use of y/n, ambiguous ending, smut
Describes: long hair, shorter than Eddie by a few inches, reader is described to look like her mom (can be ANY race) with Steve’s freckles. No skin Color or body shape/type.
Word Count: 6.8k
This is the last chapter so…enjoy! Thanks for reading! Sorry for the delayed posting today! Parenthood is kicking my ass.
Chapter 6
You hesitantly accept his offer, getting up to sober up a little and grab a bathing suit as Eddie comes from behind you, hands grabbing your shoulders and resting his chin on one of them as he asks, “Where are you going?”
“Grabbing a bathing suit,” you answer, gulping at his stubble pressed directly against your cheek.
“Don’t think so,” Eddie jerks his head, not giving you a moment to wonder what he meant before you hit the icy cold depths of your pool, hearing Eddie also hit the water as you went under.
“Jesus!” You cry as you hit the surface, wiping your face from the water that got into your eyes. “Warn a girl!”
“We were going into the pool anyway, we got towels, where’s the fun in that?” Eddie asks, starting to swim circles around you.
“You could’ve at least let me take my shorts off, they are already falling off my legs,” you whine, grabbing the pair from below the waters’ surface around your shin to throw on the pool’s edge.
Eddie scoffs, attempting not to leer to your underwear under the water, wondering if the pool’s liquid had made it see through, or what kind you were wearing. It occurs to him he hadn't thought this impromptu swim very well through.
He swims to the edge to take another drink of his beer, offering you one as well when you pout to your beer still sitting by the dwindling fire. “Alright, I bet…” he trails off, his eyes shining mischievously, “I could beat you to the other end of the pool,” Eddie announces, already starting the race.
“Hey, it’s not fair if you’ve already started!” You huff, quickly starting some breast strokes right behind him.
He beats you by mere seconds, grinning at you cheekily when your face lifts from the water. “You got a head start,” you pout, splashing him childishly.
He splashes you right back at twice the force, a tidal wave completely drowning your head. “You’re just a sore loser.”
“Alright, then, one two three go!” You launch yourself off the wall, giggling when Eddie gives the same attitude towards your unfair headstart as you did to his.
Somehow, he manages to get ahead, out of breath as you reach the surface but grinning stupid all the same, proud of his besting you once again. “Cheaters never prosper.”
“Yeah, or you just have better lungs and longer legs, Munson,” you sneer, not letting him be too proud of his second win.
“Better lungs? Prove it. Wanna test it?” He teases, his eyelashes dripping with the chlorine water but not paying any mind how it drips into his eyes.
“By what, by seeing who can hold your breath under water the longest?” you joke, giggling when he nods in all seriousness.
You agree to it, but just as you could’ve predicted, he wins all three tries. He shrugs, saying something about you must’ve been right about his singer’s lungs.
You usually don’t take losing so well, a competitive streak from having three siblings who all succeeded in almost everything they did, but you were getting so much joy from your adventure in the water with him you forgot to be sour.
“You talk a big talk, but I could beat you in math any day, Munson,” you jeer, internally panicking when it doesn’t affect him in the slightest.
“Oh yeah? Well math ain’t gonna help you here, sweetheart.” He lurches forward, initiating a chase that sends a thrill up your spine, immediately turning away and freaking out when you hear his splashes grow closer and closer.
The pool wall ended up being much closer than you had expected, turning around to him nearly colliding with you from the full force of his momentum. He’s breathing heavily, his bare chest after complaining about his shirt dragging him down pale in the blue night lights, two hands right next to your shoulders on the tiles. He licks his lips, a playful grin still on his face yet slowly fades.
Your shirt has also dragged you down, having taken it off and throwing it just a few feet from where your shorts lie. Your underwear does little to hide what it’s meant to, two thin fabrics between you and the wall. You recall when you considered putting on a bathing suit after your shower earlier but thought it would be silly.
Now all of that seems silly.
The music, now faint, still carries on in the background as Eddie nor you move from the spots, the space between your chests seemingly smaller and smaller.
You’ve held back from this tantalizing temptation so many times, you’ve lost track. You don’t have the strength to hold back any more, so you don’t. You finally take a bite of the damn apple, whether or not there’s hell to pay for it.
Your legs wrap around his waist, tugging him in as you finally press your lips to his gorgeous pink ones. Eddie immediately tenses up, going stiff as a rod. Your first instinct is that you’ve obviously made a blunder, misreading all the signs and were waiting for the humiliation to start, for his apologies to bumble out.
When you attempt to let go and apologize profusely, he cuts you off, pinning your back against the pool as his hands work their way up your body, restless and careless until they stay still on your ass, rough and commanding as you feel his boner right on your desperate heat. His lips against yours take complete control, one hand landing on your cheek as he opens his mouth just a little bit more to allow your tongues collide, beers and smores and musk and watermelons and oh fuck he’s a good kisser.
His stubble collides with your cheek and burns in the best way, drinking in every moment as he kisses you slow but desperately, not wanting to waste a single second after burning for it, his lips on yours.
“Do you know what you do to me, you beautiful little tease?” He mutters, rutting himself as if to demonstrate what he meant.
“I have an idea,” you smirk, gasping the smile away as soon as the boner collides again, harder.
“Do you? Do you know that everytime I see you in a new slutty little outfit I get fucking hard? Every small action you make, taking joints out from your fucking bra, licking jam off your hand,” he ruts again swallowing a whimper that leaves your mouth, “the fucking ice cream, fuck, it is torture just being near you.”
Your legs cling onto him, heels digging into his thighs as one hand wedges itself between your panties and your hip, toying with the thin fabric, his hand roughly digging into the doughy skin of your thigh. “Tell me more,” you plead, chasing his full lips as they messily plant kisses all down your neck, teeth scraping against your skin while his nose nuzzles it, taking deep inhales on his trek.
“God, baby, everything about you had me ready to mark you as mine, I just needed you so fucking bad it drove me insane. Did you need me too? I-I fucking know the answer, but I need to hear it, you need me too, right?” He borderline begs, his voice gone from rough and aggressive to needy almost instantaneously.
“I-I need you, Eddie, I really, really need you,” you answer him in full honesty, overwhelmed by the force of vulnerability that rushes through you like a gust of wind.
The only thing that you can call what comes out of him next is a whimper, his brown eyes searching both of yours rapidly as his hand tightens on your bare hip. “Say it again?”
“Say what again?” you frown, your face close enough to his that the only thing that passes through it are the loud gasps in the quiet of the night. Even with the music still playing in the background, it really only feels as its you and him alone in the world.
“Say my name?” He licks his lips right before scattering kisses all along your collarbone, sucking and nibbling weaved with little whimpers, his wet hair brushing against your chin in the meantime.
You smile, not having noticed the subconscious attempt at distancing yourself. Referring to him as Eddie, even in place of Munson, feels too personal, too real. If he’s Eddie, he’s on your level. Attainable.
Something you have told yourself all weekend that he is anything but.
Your mouth opens to give him exactly what he wanted, but you decide against it at the very last second, “Make me,” husking out instead.
The breathy, seductive tone took him aback, his brow scrunching for just a fraction of a second until a change cascades over his face. Half of his open mouth quirks itself upward, and it’s dark out, the sun having said its final goodbyes, but his brown doe eyes darken as he collects himself. “Make you, hmm? S’that my pretty girl asking me to make her moan my name?”
You nod, out of focus but staring up at him through your lashes all the same, arching your back when he takes you by surprise as he gropes the soft skin of your ass.
“You have been a very good girl, I suppose,” he hums, as if still considering your offer, like he wasn’t just begging for it only moments ago.
You could argue against that, but you won’t if he’s offering you this leeway. “Mmhm,” you nod eagerly, your breaths growing shorter and faster biting your lip in anticipation.
“Alright, then be my good girl and say please,” Eddie mutters, landing one hand next to you on the pool tiles.
“Please,” spills out your lips before you even process it, your legs slowly wafering through the water as he remains still, his lips and hand once all over you now a simple tease in comparison to the touch he finally granted you.
“Please?” Eddie mutters, tilting his head in false curiosity. “Please, what, baby?”
“Please, please t-touch me,” it ‘s so simple, so delicate yet so intimate, crossing a boundary the both of you tried so hard to refrain from. “Want you to please make me moan your name with your fingers, Please.”
“See?” Eddie’s hands start again, hand on the tiles slotting itself on your cheek, the other abruptly slotting itself on your heat. “See, I knew you were a good girl.”
Just his touch alone sends a jolt up your system, a hot flash of lightning as your body jolts up weightlessly held up by his support but mostly the water. He watches you, his jaw dropping as his fingers start moving with purpose as the searing pleasure overwhelms and electrifies your nerves, starting to gasp out little mewls for him no more than two minutes after they started their pattern.
You leant in to kiss him but he keeps your forehead glued to his, turning away from your quivering bottom lip when you lean in again. “No, I know, I just wanna watch your pretty fucking face fall apart for me,” he whispers, his eyes raking across your increasingly ruined form. “Jesus your pussy is so fucking wet f’me. Did checking me out really get you this hot n’ bothered, baby?”
Your eyes start to close, fading out as that similar heat starts to build low in your stomach, as slow as his circles on your clit are, the impending orgasm is rushing at you in a record speed.
Your eyes jolt open as he shoves a long digit in as he barks out, “Nuh-uh.” You’re even more weightless as you practically float on his finger, jaw dropped as his actions have completely halted. “Keep those pretty eyes open and on me, got it?”
“Okay,” you whimper, clenching around the digit three knuckles deep.
“Good, good,” Eddie mutters, slowly moving his finger, watching your face carefully. “Jesus, you’re tight,” he bites out, adding a second finger without any warning. You sob through a little moan, the skin of his shoulders dimpling around your nails as they dug into it.
Slowly your moans have gotten louder, the temptation to allow your eyes to flutter closed fizzling at your vision but you push through it, bobbing up and down in the water in sync with his arm, giving your weight completely to him.
Your tongue laps across your bottom lip easily into a bite, still watching his face with his eyes on yours, what was just half a grin now spread into a manic smile. “You’re being so fucking good for me, sweetheart, just like you have all weekend. You take my fingers so well, can’t wait to see how you fucking take my cock.”
A whimper gasps through your lips, spasming around his fingers at his deliciously filthy words. “Fuck–Eddie–p-please–”
“See, making you moan my name wasn’t so hard,” Eddie whispers right as he leans in to capture your lips in his. His thumb starts rotating on your clit, quickly flooding you with an orgasm that you weren’t even aware you were that close to.
Eddie’s lips muffle the cry that otherwise would’ve been heard by the entire neighborhood, a shout of pure ecstasy that has you writhing up against his strong chest.
Your lips let go of his in a gasping breath, your lip trembling your elbows dig into the delicate skin between his ear and shoulder, pulling him closer as you bore into those big brown eyes. They’re as dark as the night sky yet they shine just as bright as the stars.
Smile lines and dimples are present as he stares up at you, his thumb still rotating slowly and fully responsible for the shaking of your poor thighs. His fingers are still in you, nestled and happy as he feels you flutter around them.
“You,” he drawls, slowly moving his fingers, “are radiant,” you can barely focus on the next kiss he seeks from you, your thighs clinging onto his hips, the momentum building even quicker and hotter than before.
“Oh m’god,” you whimper, throwing all your weight on one forearm as you suddenly have to get his fingers out, its too-too fucking much. “Ed–fuck!”
“You can take it,” he mumbles, one arm across your back as he peppers wet sloppy kisses along your collarbone. “Right? You can handle one more little orgasm.”
You buck into his hips as a silent confirmation, the splashing water around your forms loud from all your thrashing.
The kisses along your collarbone have moved south, the sudden scrape of his teeth against the curve of your breast a welcome shock as he starts to peel back the soaked fabric now glued to your skin like latex. “Look at these fuckin’ perfect tits,” Eddie growls, his hand movements turned sloppy as he wraps his tongue around the peaked nipple.
The added sensation clouds your head, bucking against him and practically sobbing into little whines while he perfectly works you like he already knows you.
“That’s it, fuck yourself on my fingers, you look so good like this, baby,” the praise lights your body ablaze, clutching onto him tighter.
Oddly enough the thing to send you over the edge again was a long lick up your sternum, an image you’ve seen time and time again on the edge of his guitar. Stars crash into your vision, knocking you senseless as you tug him in for a kiss, more teeth than lips as your legs shake but the giggles bubble out from your chest.
“Just one more?” He smirks, adding, Jesus, a third fucking finger.
“Eddie–” you startle, choking on your own oxygen.
“I really need to repay you,” he mutters, starting back on your jawline.
“Repay me?” You manage out, choking back a near shout when he curls his fingers just so.
He nods, focusing a toxic mix of his tongue and teeth against your racing pulse. “Mmhm. Repay you for every little time you managed to make me rock hard.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t worry.” he laughs, gnawing down your shoulder line. “I couldn’t repay you for every time, you’d be here for hours. And we both just found out how quick I can make you cum.”
You gulp, barely able to think through any of what he had just told you. “I-huh?”
“Jus’ one more, baby? Jus’ one more after being relentlessly teased by those fucking thighs of yours? Your pretty tits? That chokable neck–baby fuck you really make me fucking crazy–” his voice has somehow gone from commanding back to whining, his voice drowning in pure, needy, wanting.
“You are–” you start, cut off by a kiss he throws in as he becomes restless in his motions, “you are going to be the–” you giggle as he kisses you again, nipping at your bottom lip. “Ah–the end of me.”
“You fuckin’ like it, don’t you?” He laughs, one hand spread on the back of your neck as his eyes remain on yours. “You love how much my fingers can ruin you.”
“Your–your voice,” you choke out, eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Your voice does a lot-a lot a lot-of the work.”
He chuckles darkly, curling his fingers against your g-spot impossible harder, an impossible fire somehow hurling through your pussy still submerged in the pool. “I think I know why Hell’s Angels is your favorite album, hmm? It is a very carnal album.”
You giggle, somehow more cognitive. “My number one most played on Spotify.”
Eddie huffs out a chorus of laughter, leaning down to lick a wide fat stripe up your neck. “That is so fucking hot to me.” You shiver, blinded by the roll of ecstasy that just ran through you. “Would you believe I am just as obsessed with you?”
“It-it’s a high bar,” you admit, peeling your other arm out of its bra strap to completely expose yourself.
“Oh my god you’re fucking adorable,” Eddie hums, nibbling all down your chin, his lips seemingly unable to rest as they roam around you. “Now fucking cum for me so we can get out of this pool and I can finally fuck you.”
Something that’s only been possible under perfect circumstances while bonding with a vibrator occurs, you squirt all over his hand following a sudden heat that boils in your skin and acts like an anchor in your body weighing you down. The weightlessness water usually brings to you has disappeared swiftly, clinging onto him as he peels his fingers from where they sat still nestled as they finished working you through it.
He reciprocates the tight hug you give him, strong arms holding you close to his chest as your legs still spasm and quake.
“That’s my good girl,” he whispers encouragingly, gently petting your dampened hair. “C’mere, I’m gonna see if I–” he grunts, the muggy air engulfing you whole as he lifts you up onto the edge of the pool as if you weighed nothing, winking playfully as he lifts himself out.
“Ok, you obviously lift,” you mumble, being tugged by his hands and escorted into the house, leaving only the still lit embers of the pit and the scattered ingredients and clothes behind.
He chuckles, momentarily squeezing you as he wraps his arms and clasps them together in front of your torso. “Please, you weigh nothing.”
He stays like that every step on the cement to your house, playfully nipping at your neck, tickling it with his deep breaths until you reach the threshold of the double doors. Eddie lets go of you, watching your ass for a moment, your hand yanked by his hand in yours as he leans against the island kitchen counter.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he doesn’t give you a chance to respond, tilting your head as he lays a wet one on you.
“U-upstairs–” you sigh as he interrupts you again, magical, only the smell of beer left over but his lips so nice and plump.
“I don’t think so,” he mumbles, working his other arm around your torso to single handedly undo the bra clasp. It falls from your chest,Eddie eagerly kneading his hand on your left tit, two fingers playing with the nipple as you sigh into his mouth.
A whimper passes through your lips, gyrating your hips against his needily as you crave more friction despite your greedy cunt still soaked from its three releases. “Well then hurry up,” you huff, starting to play with the band of his boxers. “Can’t wait much longer.”
Your panties are yanked down, landing on the floor with a wet plop. Eddie lifts you effortlessly onto the counter, working his tented fabric against you roughly, watching your jaw drop as he rolls his hips against yours. “Please.”
“I would tell you to be patient but ever since I heard you yesterday I can’t think of anything else, baby,” Eddie sighs as you pull down his boxers, gasping as it bounces against his taut belly.
A sudden urge fills you to have its weight on your tongue, the girth down your neck, to fill your throat, the primal need alerting you as you never knew wanting a cock like this so badly was even possible. By pure instinct you reach out to grab him, basking in the moan he chokes out.
His voice could satiate a hungry belly, if you had one.
His previous confession suddenly sparks, looking up at him curiously as you work your hand along his devious length. “What did you hear yesterday?”
“Baby, your house has some thin fucking walls,” he husks out, watching your eyes go bug wide in the revelation. “I didn’t hear anything but moaning, but if it's any constellation, I hope you were thinking about me, because I sure as shit was thinking about you right outside your bedroom.”
You start to guide his leaky tip toward your mound, biting your lip as you peer up at him with doe eyes. “Please?”
“Were you?”
You sob out of desperation, your forehead landing on his shoulder. “Eddie, please–”
“Patience, slut.” You pause, pouting as you look up at him. “Were you thinkin about me while you greedily came over and over again?”
You nod, biting your lip anxiously as you glance down to his length only mere inches away from your weeping, begging entrance. “You used your tongue on the soft serve like it was–”
“I know I did, baby.” Eddie smirks, watching the shiver roll through you as the head collides with your clit. “So glad you noticed.”
You sigh impatiently, clawing your nails into his shoulder as he continues to tease you. “Eddie, pl–”
Your pathetic begging is turned off as soon as he pushes in, splitting you open as he slowly works his way to the hilt. “Jesus.”
“Eddie,” you moan, the heels of your hands digging into his collarbone. “F-fuck!”
His dark eyes bore into yours, labored breath piercing the air in the otherwise deadly quiet house. “I fuckin’ knew your pussy would be like this.”
“Like what?” You ask, pulling him closer as he did with you.
“Like a fuckin’ drug,” Eddie growls, rolling his hips against yours, the symphony of moans swallowed as he crashes his lips onto yours with an almost angry force.
It begins with a few stings, but the pleasure drowns it out before you even get a chance to revel in it, his cock hitting places you didn’t even know possible.
Your legs cling onto him, lapping kisses and nibbles down his chest hungrily as he works into you with choked out moans, seemingly losing himself in the heat of your pussy.
You slowly bruise your way down his chest, remembering every time you’d ever said how badly you’d wanted to bite him and to mark your territory as yours. All through the night he has called you his girl, but you finally get the chance to claim him. “Mine.”
“Feelin possessive, are we, baby?” He gasps out, curling his fingers through your hair and pulling at your scalp.”Wanting to claim this old man all yours?”
“You’re all fucking mine, Ed,” you claim again, moving to lap at one of his peaked nipples.
“As long as you’re mine,” he gasps back, pulling your head back up to where you can kiss him again.
You nod eagerly, the double meanings of the words seemingly lost on you to what he actually might mean. Regardless, the following kiss is desperate, even more so as his hips continue on their relentless pace.
You whine at the sudden loss, feeling empty and lonely when his body warmth leaves yours for the moment. “Bend over the fucking couch.”
It takes a minute to register, floating on the kitchen counter in a daze.
“Awww, my cock drunk slut,” his voice is sweet, malevolently so as his fingers dig into your hair and pull on your scalp as he leans in against your ear. “I said, bend over the fucking couch.”
You whimper, scrambling to climb down and run shakily to the living room. You’re guided by his hand in your hair again to the arm rest, using his foot to widen your stance. “Arch your back. More. There you go. Now be a good slut and tell me how fucking good it feels to be ripped in half by the rockstar of your dreams.”
Eddie lets go of your scalp to smack your ass, the thwack startling you in the best of ways as he watches it jiggle from the force. “Shove your face into the pillow, there we go.”
No more warning is provided when he pushes himself into you, making what you used to think was hard and fast into slow and pathetic. Eddie’s relentless hips are in their own fucking league. He sirens primal moans from you, your fingers digging into the cushions as he pounds into your pussy relentlessly.
“I just started, and you’ve already gone completely dumb? God I’ve ruined you for every bad fuck you’ve ever had.”
It’s true. Eddie Munson has ruined you in ways you simply could not comprehend, your torso practically flat on the couch as he tightens his grip on your hips. You push your ass against him, somehow communicating how fucking much you need him.
“Bet you’ve dreamed of this, yeah?” He mocks as his grip tightens on your hip. “Well for the last three nights I guess I returned the favour because I have dreamt of nothing but you. What you’d sound like, what you’d look like, god what you’d taste like— you’re in my fucking head.”
Your knees dig into his legs, your toes curled close to your ass as they possibly can be as you feel the impact of his hips start to form an ache against your thighs, your cheeks, fuck–your hole. Regardless of the spreading throb, you squeeze him tighter, silently begging for more. Just when you thought you understood what the term fucked stupid meant, you realize you had no idea as your brain starts to turn into mush.
“You’re taking it so fucking well, princess,” fuck, usually princess is a massive turn off but even you could tell the immediate reaction of you gushing around him. “Likes bein’ called princess, hmm? Give me your arm, then, princess.”
It’s a reflex how your hand raises backwards toward him, limply hanging as high as it can go which is barely a foot over your torso.
“Good, other one, too,” you whine, cut off by a sharp thrust as he grabs your other wrist to hold them both together in one hand. You think you’ve gotten the new position figured out when one hand moves up to your forearm, yanking it harshly so he has his good arm slotted between your elbows and the small of your back. “There we go.”
You’re practically standing on your two feet again, your back arched at an impossible angle as his other hand wraps itself around your neck. “Aah, that's much better. Look up.”
Your eyes flutter up to see a small round accent mirror on the wall directly across from you on the wall directly above a record player, yours and Eddie’s reflection featuring your faces, your hair tussled and eyes dazed. You blink to Eddie’s who’s smirking over your shoulder with hot cheeks and half-mooned eyes. You shyly look way from his possessive hold, having pulsed around him at how fucking gone you both look.
“Look back in the fucking mirror,” he commands, tightening his once lax grip on your neck so he constricts your airway just the littlest bit. “Look how fucking gone you are, you’re just covered in me, hmm?”
All you can do is bite your lip and push back on him, begging for his hips to continue that oh so powerful trek.
The following movement of his hips are barely noticeable, but your reflection gasps, her jaw dropping to the needed friction. “Ed–”
“Keep being my good princess and watch yourself be fucked in the mirror for me, won’t you sweet girl?” You nod, but Eddie doesn’t seem to care to wait for your answer, his hips colliding with your in a harsh slap, officially rendering any left over brain you might have had completely useless.
“Look at your fucking pretty face,” he shudders, starting to sound quite desperate himself. “There’s not a thought behind those gorgeous eyes of yours. Every muscle on your face is relaxed, your jaw falling open as if begging for me to shove my cock past those lips of yours, fuck you look so fucking perfect for me, princess.”
Your brain begs you to say something, to tell him how fucking good his cock feels, how he’s splitting you open as he feels impossibly deep as if he were kissing your cervix with every hit, how sex like this was only supposed to exist in softcore porn. How watching yourself get stupider with every hit with his hand wrapped around your neck in a claim of ownership turns you the fuck on, adding fuel to an out of control forest fire.
But your brain has turned into a puddle.
“That’s it, baby, keep bein’ good for me I’m almost done,” he lets go of your neck just to grab a handful of your hair once again. “G’nna fill that fuckin pussy up, s’ that ok?”
You find it in you somewhere to nod yes in direct juxtaposition against the grip on you, vision now fizzling as your eyes slowly fall closed. Whatever you have ever wasted time fantisizing clearly will never live up to the real thing.
Eddie’s words have warped into grunts and half finished sentences, hitting somewhere deliciously deep until his sticky ropes cover your walls up in him, filling you to the brim to make you impossibly, impossibly full.
He works himself through it, whimpering at his own sensitivities when the arm clutching yours sets you free but works itself on your clit once more, jerking you up from where you crumpeled forward onto the couch.
“Just need to feel you squeeze my cock while you cum, princess,” he mutters, sounding utterly destroyed as his voice croaks.
You try to wiggle away from him, feeling so oversensitive it forces its way up your throat in an intense sob. “Too-too much!”
“I know you can take it, princess,” he drawls, darkening his voice in the way he knows you like.
“Ed–”
“Please, jus’ for me?” He asks, his grip on your hip too tight for you to keep crawling forward.
“I-I c–” stars crash in your vision, thrashing as you feel his strong torso directly against your back.
“See?” he mumbles, peeling his arm around your tummy as he maneuvers you and him on your sides, spooning you on the couch, both covered in sweat. Eddie lifts your chin in his grip, shoving his tongue down your throat, the vibration of his humming helping you come back down to earth. “I knew you could do it.”
Somewhere in the kisses he slips himself out, distracting you with his marvelous kissing expertise as his hands find themselves enwrapping yours, fingers intertwined against your sternum fiercely as you get lost in his taste. Eventually you need to catch your breath, gasping as your head lands on the fabric of the sofa roughly, slowly drifting off to sleep.
Eddie gets up, ignoring your calls to stay with you. After some loud rummaging and swearing he returns, shocking you with a yelp as a wet cloth cleans you from the dripping cum out your full pussy. “Sorry. Didn’t want to ruin the nice couch.”
“Think we past ruined long ago,” you comment, peering up at him as he sends you a soft smile.
“Might be true.”
First thing you notice is he’s gotten dressed again, and just like that the spell is broken, and the aftermath of your adventures settle in.
His brown eyes tentatively meet yours, pensive and careful as you slowly sit up on the couch. What now?
He wears no smile on his face, searching yours as he leans in, his pointer finger hooked under your chin as he plants a gentle kiss on your lips that makes you miss the feel of him already. “I’m definitely not tired, would you like to watch a movie with me?”
You nod, eyes still closed as you reel from the whiff of emotions that repeatedly compound through you. “I don’t think I can stand.”
“I’d be insulted if you could,” he huffs, planting a sweet kiss on your nose. “Be right back. You want sweatpants or something more akin to those pretty dresses you’ve been flouncing around in?”
“Hmm, happy middle, please,” you ignore his jab, if just for the obvious amusement in his voice.
“Aah, a thong and a necklace coming up,” he jokes, running up the stairs before you could playfully glare at him.
He brings you a matching tank and shorts and a light blanket, setting up Smile for you two to watch as he curled you into his chest. When the movie is over you glance up at him, worried for what exactly came out his mouth next.
We probably should keep it as a one time only event.
You reluctantly agreed, crawling into a too big bed as you already miss his comforting weight right next to you. Sleep never comes, in fact, sleep has stopped texting you back because you have never been more wide awake.
Sweat seeps through the sheets and shines on your forehead as you wrap yourself up in an accidental burrito from all the turning and tossing, your emotions one puddle, thundering and storming into a lake of aroused confusion and clouded judgment as your weekend plays on repeat.
By the time the sky shines a periwinkle blue once again you’ve decided you could not take it for two more seconds, impulsively getting up to run back across the hall.
The door opens to a wildly disheveled head of curls, his hand raised as if he was about to knock. His mouth opens but you don’t give him the chance to tell you Yeah, no, fuck that, because your lips are on his in a flash, arms recklessly thrown around his shoulders and pulling him into your bedroom for some more of his lips, his hands, his hips, his tongue.
Neither of you had enough resolve to decide it would only be a one time thing.
-
Six Months Later
Eddie huffed a few bouts of laughter as you litter kisses all over his neck, refusing to listen to his out of breath protests as you nuzzle into his intoxicating stubble. “Babe, babe! I have to take a shower, I fucking stink!”
You giggle, working your hands up his fishnet shirt layered under the graphic tee. “Mhmm,” you hum, lapping up some rank sweat that has built up at the hinge of his jaw. “Smells amazing.”
“You’re a fucking freak, have I ever told you that?” He laughs, intertwining his fingers through your hair as he shoves his tongue down your throat.
“You’ve mentioned it,” you sigh, gasping against his minty breaths. “Helps having a smoking hot boyfriend, you know?”
“Baby, I really need a shower, I will meet you in the lounge,” he sighs, sounding like he’s about to give up.
“I could join you,” you suggest, pulling him in closer against you.
“As tempting as that is, we both know neither of us are getting any cleaner if that happens,” he sternly holds your face at a distance from his, his eyebrow flickering up pointedly when you attempt to lean in for more. “I promise to fuck you into the mattress, against the couch, and wherever else you might want later, okay, my sweet princess?”
“Fine,” you huff, grinning against his lips at the final sweet kiss he gives you, at the shivers down your spine that have never stopped, that have never shown signs of stopping.
The dressing room door closes behind you as the spray of the water hits the shower floor, a taunt that you are not in the cramped space with him, the one place you crave.
After offering his bandmates your best compliments, you act as a wallflower, watching the moon-eyed fans get their selfies as you played with the guitar pick chained around your wrist. You scrolled through your twitter app, saving photos of your gorgeous boyfriend in quality photos and the litter of hickeys you had spent hours giving him for hours the previous night.
A sudden impossible yet familiar laugh fills the air, your eyes snapping up to your dad’s familiar swoop of brown locks tossed back in a full body chuckle. Your stomach falls into the pits of hell.
You had checked with Eddie before hand that Steve hadn’t gotten any tickets emailed to him to avoid this very particularly sticky situation. You had agreed to keep it quiet until it started getting more serious.
Well…it had turned serious but you knew for a fact your dad wouldn’t be too happy with the coupling.
Your eyes jolt around the room to look for a quick escape, forgetting there’s only one door in, and unless you were going to turn unrealistically stealthy in the next minute, sneaking past him was not an option.
Your hesitation turns out to be your doom, just as you make a choice his brown eyes landed on you, lighting up in surprise.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Sunshine!” He calls out, holding his arms out and reaching for a hug. “What are you doing here? Thought you were staying with your roommate for the week!”
You had specifically told him you were stuck with your roommate who was getting over an ex boyfriend. The ex boyfriend part was right, but you were assisting from afar, with your own boyfriend luring you off the phone.
You hug him back, a wave of guilt washing over you, unable to relax in his familiar arms. “I made it down last minute!” The lie is forced, reminding you of times you knew you were caught but chose to dig deeper rather than climb out.
Sometimes it's just easier that way.
Steve’s brows furrow, crossing his arms just as something occurs to him. “How-how did you even make it down so quickly, I just called you this morning—“
He is interrupted by a familiar set of arms thrown around you from behind, squeezing you tight until you weasel out of them, your nerves on a hotwire.
For a moment that stretches out, lasting forever enough for you to see the V between Steve’s brow deepen, his head tilting ever so slightly, a slight frown downturning his lips.
And the panic that shifts every muscle of Eddie’s face when he sees Steve.
Finally, things set back into motion as puts on a facade of surprise, well not a facade as he’s actually surprised, he certainly knows how to put on a face of delight.
“Steve, my boy!” He collides his chest with his best friend, back pats exchanged as they embrace one another. “I didn’t know you were coming!”
Steve shrugs, his hands slotted into his pockets once they separate. “You didn’t answer my email, but Gareth did.”
When you switch your gaze to the drummer, he winks, telling you he has been paying attention to the shit show the entire time.
A few beats in the conversation, Steve starts to wonder if he was making everything up in his head, if he was just imagining your awkward stances and the way you’re standing just an inch too far away from one another.
Because there is no other reason you’d have to lie.
But all the little things keep sticking out to him. Your disheveled hair, in a way that couldn’t be manufactured. A bruise on Eddie’s neck, no bruises, but this one seemed familiar—
Steve’s eyes dart to your smudged lipstick, just barely fixed.
The fidgeting of a bracelet around your wrist, your anxious swaying, Eddie’s nervous rambling.
The way Eddie rushed to hug you like an old friend yet can’t seem it dare keep his eyes on you longer than a second.
”Eddie Munson, tell me you are not hooking up with my daughter.”
-
Oop.
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This is the last chapter hope y’all loved 😭
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writingsonsaturn · 6 months
Note
Tim's fiancee gets arrested when a cop (let's say Lucy or someone) (this is after they are rookies) arrests her because she looks like a suspect they already caught, his fiancee told them she was engaged to Tim but they didn't believe her and Tim gets mad at the officer - <3
wrong place, wrong time - tim bradford
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{ masterlist }
🪐: very sorry about how long its taken me to write, had a lot of stuff to do this week lol! this ones a little short <333
word count: 850
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Waking up with Tim being gone was normal, even after he had left the military his day continued to start at 6 am sharp. Although on weekends he would cut himself some slack to hold you until you were ready to get out of bed and begin with your various tasks you two needed to get done.
Today didn’t start off any different, waking up only a few hours after Tim had, at a ripe 8:30am.
Rubbing your eyes you flung your legs to your left, your warm feet chilling almost immediately at the cold wooden flooring of you and Tim’s shared bedroom. A shiver shot through your nerves and up your spine, you sighed lightly at the shift in temperature and made your departure to the bathroom.
The spring air seeped into the sunlit room, the fresh morning breeze filling your soul with flowers and bright colors. Music filled the house whilst you finished your morning routine making breakfast and feeding Kojo.
You started out your afternoon deciding to head to the local library, wanting to return a book you had borrowed before you were charged with a late fee. 
The library wasn’t full since it was the afternoon and school was still in session, “hello! i’m here to return a book” you said in a chipper but quiet tone. The librarian smiled and took the book, checking it back into the system and sending you on your way.
Your next stop was a supermarket, you had only a handful of items that were needed. Tim had run out of coffee filters this morning and you needed more shampoo, you also opted to get a new water bowl for Kojo, not that he needed one, you just thought it was cute.
As you walked out to your car you were stopped with a taser pointed directly at your torso, “get on your knees with your hands up!” a woman yelled.
Your confused manor caused your reaction to be delayed, causing the police officer to yell once again. “Get down on the ground with your hands up, now!” you immediately get down to your knees and put your shaking hands up. 
“You got the wrong person, I swear! Call Tim Bradford, he's my Fiancé!” you pleaded, the cop with the name ‘Chen’ on her shirt just scoffed and laughed you off while stuffing you in the back of her squad car.
The ride to the precinct was uncomfortable, the cuffs were digging into the skin of your wrists. “Officer please, I'm not whoever you think I am. All you have to do is call Bradford, he’ll tell you exactly what I'm telling you know” you tried to plead your case once again, but it fell on deaf ears.
“Tim doesn’t have a fiancé, he was my T.O, i think i would know a big detail like him having a girlfriend” she laughed, feeling as though it was ridiculous to even entertain your words.
As you were brought into the station to get your picture taken and be put into holding, Chen passed you onto another officer and went to tell Grey about her catch. 
To Lucy’s surprise everyone had already been packing up the evidence and started paperwork, “what’s going on?” Lucy questioned, “we caught the killer, she was at her parents place shooting up when we got there” Tim explained. Lucy was confused, “so if you caught the killer, who do i have in holding?” the question hung in the air, Tim looking at her with perplexed eyes.
Lucy walked Tim over to holding and that’s where Tim saw you, “oh thank god!” you exclaimed seeing Tim. He hurried over to you taking your cuffs off and waving off the other officers. “Chen, why is my fiancé sitting here in cuffs?” Tim sternly asks, Lucy looks down, stuttering and trying to explain herself.
“Tim it’s fine, she was just doing her job” you did your best to defend Lucy, “No y/n, this is not okay, if it had been anyone else this would be a lawsuit” he turned his body at you but his tone was directed at Lucy.
“Tim i’m sorry, I didn’t know we had already caught the suspect and she looked exactly like our suspect” Lucy tried to explain, stumbling over her words.
“You are going to go to Grey and explain everything, lucky for you, y/n isn’t going to file a report against you” Tim assigned Lucy, to which she scurried away. “Are you okay? oh christ your wrists,” his questions and concerns came at you with speed.
“Tim, baby, I'm okay,” you smiled trying to calm him down. Tim held your wrists in his hands, and kissed them. He hoped his love would be enough to soothe your angry red skin, “i’m sorry, this shouldn’t have happened” he persisted. 
You shut him up with a kiss, “drive me to go pick up my car” your smile made him relax. “Yes ma’am” he laughed, telling Grey where he was going, and walking out hand in hand with you, still profusely apologizing.
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moonstruckme · 15 days
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Happy birthday and congratulations on 7k!! You deserve it. Thank you for sharing your gift for writing with us <3
Can I request apple pie- James potter + an airport terminal at midnight
I once saw a guy at the airport who looked a bit like James but I was looking busted and severely hungover from my last night of spring break to talk to him 😅
Thank you for requesting lovely!!
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 688 words
“Excuse me.” 
The voice is soft but still you wake with something like a growl brewing in your chest, fingers tightening possessively around the strap of your backpack. There’s a boy with brown eyes and a strong chin looking at you concernedly from behind a pair of glasses. 
“Sorry,” he says, setting a hand on your suitcase. You’ve got your leg hooked through the handle, but he doesn’t look like he’s trying to steal it, only resting his hand there. “Would you like this?” He holds up a clumped-up mass of fabric. 
You blink at him, trying to puzzle out whether he’s really making no sense or whether you’re just that tired. 
“For your head,” the boy clarifies. “You just, you don’t look very comfortable.” 
You lift your head, feeling the imprint that something poking through your backpack has left in your cheek. “Sorry,” you say blearily. “I don’t understand.” 
“That’s my fault,” he owns immediately. “Sorry, I meant would you like to use my hoodie as a pillow? So you can sleep properly.” 
“Oh.” You still feel odd, and it doesn’t help that this is the sort of thing that might usually only happen in a dream. Since when do attractive strangers walk up to you in airports? “Um, thank you, but you don’t have to.” 
“No, it’s really alright.” With your head lifted, he starts positioning it atop your backpack, fluffing it as though it’s a real pillow. “It’s my spare. I’m warm enough without it, see?” He gestures to the hoodie he’s wearing as if to demonstrate. It’s a deep red color that looks nice against his warm skin. He does look very warm, overall. “Anyways, there.” He steps back, grinning almost bashfully as he takes a seat across from you. “Now hopefully you can sleep better.” 
“Thank you,” you say quietly. 
He nods, still smiling much too brightly for this hour of night (or morning, you suppose. Is it morning yet?). 
You close your eyes, trying to ignore how pleasantly warm your makeshift pillow is, like he’s been carrying it around in his arms all day. It smells nice, too, the scent of a shampoo you vaguely recognize and also pine, maybe picked up from wherever he’s coming from. You open your eyes again. 
“When’s your flight?” 
He looks back at you, pulling his headphones off one ear. 
“When’s your flight?” you ask again. “So I can make sure to give it back in time.” 
“Oh, not for a few hours yet.” He waves you off. His headphones come down around his neck. “We’re suffering delays. When’s yours?” 
“Five-thirty.” You feel weary at the thought of it, though you can’t wait to get out of here. You’ve been dying to leave this airport since you’d arrived, grievously regretting your decision to save money on a hotel for the last night of your trip. 
He makes a sympathetic hissing noise. “That sounds truly awful. Early bird gets the worm, though?” 
“Something like that.” 
He smiles, and maybe it’s the fluorescent lighting but you think that if you weren’t already lying down it would take your knees out from under you. “I’m James.” 
You tell him your name, and he nods like he’s tucking it away. 
“Are you going on holiday?” he asks, crossing one of his legs under him, getting comfortable. 
“Sort of,” you reply. “I’m going to see my mum. But she makes it feel like a holiday.” Something softens around James' eyes, and for reasons unknown it makes your face warm. “Where are you headed?” 
“My best mates are spending the holiday in France. They’ve spared me a pullout couch.” James tilts his head, looking far more content than anyone traveling at this hour ought to be. You wonder if his lips just lie in a permanent uptilt. “So where you’re going to visit your mum, is that where you’re from?” 
You reposition your backpack so you’re propped up a bit more, James’ hoodie still under your cheek but suddenly feeling less keen on sleeping the hours until your flight away. Oddly, you’re no longer dying to leave this airport quite so badly.
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