#this plot belongs together

[the-red-thread-that-strangles]

Part I

"Are you free Thursday evening?" Akai's facing away from him, getting out of the car in a hurry. Rei's picked him up from his flat this morning (his mustang broke down, apparently), which is how they're both running late now. It's a good thing the meeting can't start without them.

In any case, Rei isn't - things have been busy in the aftermath of the takedown of the organisation, as Akai should be well aware. He did, after all, just return from a three-month vacation to FBI headquarters in Washington. The official cover story, as far as Rei knows, is Okiya going to the US to continue his PhD, while the authorities prepared to reintroduce the reborn Akai Shuichi to the world. Now he's back for good, officially appointed as the FBI's liaison to the PSB.

While he didn't share what he was up to while he was waiting to be processed, Rei has a pretty good guess - the higher-ups have been expecting all sorts of reports from him, after all, and surely Akai is just as vital a source, involved as they both were. The thought of him doing paperwork is amusing, and strangely domestic in its mundanity. (He'd love to see it.)

So, he'll figure something out. Several people owe him favours, and he has five years of vacation to catch up on. This is the first time Akai is reaching out for a meeting outside of work (not that Rei kept track or anything), and he's not about to let that chance slip through his fingers.

"I'll make it work. What for?" Agreeing without even knowing what he agreed to, he really is pathetic. And yet. He trusts the other won't waste his time or ask for the impossible.

"Dinner at the Myosotis. Seven p.m."

Rei blinks. That rings a bell. Western style fine dining, prohibitively expensive. Waiting lists of half a year, at least. Back then, they were just barely collaborating, surely Akai didn't plan this far ahead? How, then, did he get a table, and why is he inviting Rei to go there? That's the kind of place people go to for romantic marriage proposals; not the sort of restaurant the two of them would frequent, if they do eat out.

"I've already said yes, but... that's quite high-class, isn't it?" Not that he minds - being Bourbon taught him how to frequent places like that. It's just that Akai has never given any sort of indication he might like that kind of place. Huh.

(And really, if he's being honest, any place would be fine as long as it's with Akai. They have a couple of months to catch up on, after all.)

The smile Akai gives him in response is...odd. Small and genuine, private in the way that he's only ever seen Shuichi look at a select few people. Akemi. His siblings. Shinichi. But it doesn't reach his eyes, this time; instead, they're narrowed, burning with something like dread. Rei can't quite make sense of the expression.

"I think the occasion warrants it", is all Akai says before he slams the car door shut, turning his back to Rei. And that's the end of that conversation.

Alright then. Weird.

.

After that, Rei can't shake the feeling that Akai avoids him outside of work. Takes his smoke breaks alone, leaves immediately after they're done.

In situations like these Rei wishes he could talk to Hiro. It's a best friend's duty to help figure out if he's making something out of nothing, right? Maybe Akai really is just busy. And maybe he truly is in the mood for a celebratory dinner; after all, they haven't really had time to spend together since they came out of hiding, ripped apart by work and duty. They've talked, of course, but now that he's back it seems like the circumstances have calmed down enough to consider such a thing. (Even though a nagging thought tells him the official celebratory gala will be held in a couple of months, marking the half-year anniversary of the operation, and he knows Akai isn't looking forward to it.)

The thing is, that doesn't warrant it the look Akai gave him. That look was charged, it meant something. Through the years, Akai has looked at him a great many different ways. Rye mostly cold and disinterested at first, then with that faintly concealed amusement that still drives him up the walls. Okiya usually observed him with curiosity and caution. And Akai? A variety of expressions. Laughter and pain and gratitude. That bone-deep weariness that seems to cling to him like his shadow. Just once, with surprise. But rarely, if ever, as scared as he'd looked when he'd asked him out.

What was he afraid of? It's not like Rei was going to decline dinner, even if he's a little insulted it's western food. (Then again, he's quite proud of his prowess regarding traditional Japanese cuisine, so really, that would've been a worse choice.) Akai might just crave nostalgic food.

This is the third time this week he's reached this point in the argument with himself, and it really doesn't feel like he's getting any closer to the truth.

In the years he's known him, Akai has never shown to be the type to celebrate. Not that the organisation left much room to celebrate. As Okiya, Rei never got close enough to figure out his preferences. And as for Akai...well, he seemed happy enough, if exhausted, coming back from his sister's birthday party, and that's really the only indication Rei has. Maybe he doesn't know Akai as well as he thought. The idea stings.

Still, it makes no sense. If he wanted to celebrate, the takedown was a team effort, and Rei knows agents Starling and Black are in the country. He's checked their schedules, but neither they nor Kazami are free next week, at that certain hour. (Alright, well, in Kazami's case it might be Rei's fault he's busy, but he needs someone capable to cover for him.)

The Kudos, arguably the masterminds behind the operation, have left for a vacation to the Swiss alps, too. Allegedly, they've taken Shinichi with them to recover in mountain air - privately, Rei has heard through the grapevine that talking things out with Ran didn't go so well. She's asked for some time to think about their relationship, so Shinichi is off bringing crime to Swiss ski resorts for a change.

None of the usual suspects are free, or invited. It seems it's really just the two of them.

He doesn't want to, can't afford to indulge the foolish hope that Akai might've missed him as much as Rei did (his dry wit, his dependability, the scent of his cigarettes and aftershave in their sheets). They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but is it enough for such a shift to occur with Akai?

Their work did keep them too busy to do anything but exchange short texts or calls every once in a while. That little had been a must, for Rei; while officially the organisation might be gone, some stragglers have yet to be found. Thus, he's been checking up on Akai, just to make sure he's still alright out there. (He wants to touch him and hold him and hear his heartbeat, wants to make sure he's alive. Wants too many things he can't have, as usual.)

Rei has promised himself he'll never act on these feelings; can't destroy this careful balance they have managed to attain. But if Akai's the one reaching out, who is Rei to decline? If after all they've gone through Akai still wants to stay by his side, Rei doesn't have the strength to push him away for his own good.

Throughout their relationship, it's always been Rei asking to meet him to exchange sweaters and information. For Akai to take this step now, and in such a grandiose manner, leaves him reeling, uncertain of the other's intentions. Among the living, he's probably the one who knows the sniper best, and yet he just can't figure out what this means. The uncertainty is maddening.

Damnit, really, what is he supposed to think about Akai inviting him to a high-class dinner? Just the two of them?

.

Hiro hasn't contacted him either, since that time in the Kudo mansion. He'd assured Rei he was safe, doing alright. Sorry for not being able to meet. And that was that.

(In a moment of weakness, Rei's asked Akai for his number. But Akai had revealed he'd only gotten the contact info for a burner phone, worthless after that one use.)

He's missed Hiro before, when he wasn't sure whether he was alive or dead, but somehow, knowing he is out there and not being able to reach him is worse. Hiro was supposed to have his back, and now he can't even help him out with his uncertain thoughts and feelings regarding one Akai Shuichi. Traitor.

.

Rei's fretting for hours about his look for dinner. (When was he last out on a date that actually mattered?)

It's not like he's lacking in confidence. He knows he cleans up nicely, and working with Vermouth for years has left him fashion-conscious. He's perfectly aware of how to dress up appropriately for a venue like the Myosotis. Honestly, he's more concerned (and quite frankly, intrigued) how Akai will fare.

Still, he wonders if the red tie is perhaps a bit too much. He's added it on a whim, for a splash of colour, but now he's considering whether it's too bold, wearing Akai's namesake openly. He's probably overthinking it. It's not like Akai to pick up on such clues.

He's triple-checked, by this point, his nails and hair and teeth. His suit is crisply ironed. It's perfect. What could possibly go wrong?

.

Rei finds himself at the restaurant a quarter hour early. A waiter shows him to the lovely window seats Akai has reserved for them, looking out over the city's lights. It's beautiful. The place is pleasantly quiet, a separée creating an ambience of privacy. Bathing the space in warm light is a cream candle, placed on a perfectly ironed tablecloth. After a couple of moments, the waiter returns with a bottle of quality champagne, chilled for their convenience.

Myosotis couldn't be more stereotypically romantic if it tried, and Rei finds his face burning as hot as the flame in front of him. It's a good thing he's a little early; he'll need time to steady himself to face Akai. Maybe have a glass of cool champagne to calm his nerves.

Rei runs one last check, refreshes his cologne on neck and wrist, and waits.

.

A couple minutes go by, during which he tries several different grounding techniques, to limited effect. He still perks up when, from the corner of his eyes, he spots Okiya's pastel pink hair - though it is in confusion, the excitement dying down quickly, replaced with fury. The posture of the man is incredibly familiar.

Conscious of where they are, and what is appropriate, Rei gets up from their table to greet him.

"You've kept me waiting long enough."

And with the brightest possible smile he can muster, he slaps his best friend across the face, hard.

.

"Yeah, I guess I deserve that." At least it's his own voice. Hiro's awkward smile looks off on Okiya's pretty face, and Rei has to fight the urge to throw his arms around his neck. Whether to hug him or strangle him, he doesn't quite know, himself.

"You..." 'deserve much worse than that. Deserve much better than that. Are an asshole and an idiot and it's so good to see you-'

People are noticing the commotion. Bourbon's reflexes kick in, uncomfortable with the attention. He finds himself closing the distance and hissing at Hiro.

"Take a seat before we cause even more of a scene."

Hiro-as-Okiya follows him into the separée. A waiter comes by, pouring him a glass of champagne too. The mood is as frosty as their drinks.

Hiro makes no move to continue the conversation. Great.

"...would you care to explain", Rei asks through his best Amuro smile, "what exactly you are doing here?" He considers adding 'and why you are dressed as Akai's ridiculous cover', but figures that one's self-evident.

"I wanted to see you, so Akai helped me out. The paperwork is taking its sweet time." He says it nonchalantly, as if it is that simple. As if he hasn't been MIA for half a year, and presumed KIA for years before that.

He's willing to bet this meeting was Akai's bright idea. Rei's all too familiar with his idea of 'help'. Doing what he thinks is best in the shadows, without talking to the person he's allegedly helping out.

It sucks, because he knows the FBI agent meant well. He probably thought this was a pleasant surprise. (And it is, just a little.)

It just very much does not help that Rei had quite different expectations of how this evening would go. He was expecting something much nicer than spontaneously having to decide whether he should make use of Hiro's shellfish allergy and poison him right then and there. (The answer is no, will always be no, who is he even kidding.)

Hiro's blue eyes stare at him from across the table, illuminated in warm candlelight. They clash horribly with the pink hair. It makes Rei nauseous. He looks down at the table.

He manages a strangled "I would have appreciated a heads-up." For this situation in particular and the fact that Hiro's alive, in general.

"Did he not tell you?"

"No. And it's not like I expected anything of the sort from him." 'You, however, should have known better.'

"Look, Zero-" Rei's withering glare makes him falter for a second, but he presses on. "I couldn't let you know. It was too dangerous at the time, for myself and Rye. And you."

Oh, great. Another person looking out for his supposed well-being. Except, it really only was about the success of their mission, wasn't it? As if that was ever worth his best friend's life.

He clenches his fist under the table, tries to calm himself. Fails. "I get that. I really, truly do." He rises, slams his hands on the table, leans across. Stares at the farce that is Okiya, just a lie this time.

"But it's been three years, Hiro." Then, quietly: "I thought you were dead."

Countless nights spent visiting morgues, checking if all bodies matching Hiro's stature were accounted for. Checking international flights. Investigating the ruins of the exploded building, in hopes of finding evidence of tampering. Looking over the remains of the body, burnt and crushed, with only the totality of the destruction hinting at foul play. Years and years of hounding Akai, trying to get answers from the one person who had to know, only to not make it in time. That terrible night Gin had sent him a gift, Akai falling lifelessly back into the video's frame, joining Scotch in a violent end; his last lead going up in flames and smoke. Mourning Matsuda and Date, alone.

He fights down the bile rising in his throat with practiced ease. His eyes sting and burn, but he won't be embarrassed now by giving in.

To his credit, Hiro has backed off as far as he can, shrinking under Rei's glare. Familiar blue eyes lock with his, and Rei needs to focus on them because everything else about the Okiya getup gives him whiplash he doesn't know how to deal with. Hiro takes a breath, steadies himself.

"Zero." A warm hand is gently laid atop his own. So familiar, so comforting, even after years apart. Rei wants to run, or fight, or both, but finds himself anchored in place.

"I'm sorry. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, as many times as you need me to."

As if any number of apologies could erase years and years of grief and guilt and loneliness. If he'd just been faster, if Hiro had just trusted him, they would've found a solution, it was never worth his life-

"...why didn't you come to me, Hiro?" Idiot.

Because after months and years to contemplate it, that's the root of the problem, isn't it? The start of the betrayal. The broken promise from their academy days, splintering even further. 'We can handle anything, as long as we're together.' And then fate had ripped them apart, one by one, counting down to zero. Except Hiro had had a choice.

"I'm sorry. I did what I thought was necessary." He wears his emotions on his face.

And for a split-second, Rei doesn't see Hiro. He sees Akai, a week ago; his small smile, his pained eyes. Denial and self-sacrifice. Just what in the world made Akai look at him like that?

It's disorienting enough that he finds his spiralling thoughts interrupted, blinking at Hiro. He backs off, sits back down.

"Promise me, now, that you'll never run off like that again." Please, he can't say, but tries to convey through squeezing Hiro's hand just slightly too hard, before he pulls back in time for the waiter coming in with their entrées.

"I'll try."

Rei glares at him. Not good enough.

"Okay, okay, I won't." Hiro laughs, and oh, how Rei has missed the sound. Some of the tension bleeds out of him, and he finds himself joining his best friend, helplessly.

This isn't over, the pain isn't gone. It's unlikely it ever will, and there surely will be more arguments in the future (and sparring. He really wants to knock some more sense into Hiro). The trust they're missing will be hard to rebuild.

But Rei has had no choice but to live without Hiro for three years now. Has missed him painfully, every single day. If he's going to live in pain either way, might as well have it caused by Hiro's continued presence by his side.

If he gets a second chance at life then Hiro deserves one, too.

...................................................................................

Part II

Dinner after that is slow, but pleasant.

Akai has apparently pre-ordered roasts that need several days to be prepared for them, and while the quality is good, the style of food just isn't Rei's favourite. Hiro seems pretty delighted by it though, so that's something at least.

They leave charged topics carefully untouched. Since Hiro isn't on active duty, Rei can't really talk about his PSB work, and Hiro isn't at liberty to talk about his cover either. So small talk it is. Rei shows Hiro pictures of Haro, and he's immediately taken (as he should).

By the time they've made it past the main dish, they're running out of idle chitchat. Hiro's bracing himself, seems to be working up the courage to ask something. Rei can already tell he won't like the upcoming conversation.

"So, Zero." He folds his hands together, and leans on the table, looking inquisitively. "Do you mind explaining what's going on between you and Akai?"

"Nothing." The answer comes too quick and too pressed, he's not fooling anyone. And that's without accounting for the fact that Hiro knows him too well, even after three years apart. He smiles, faintly.

"Of course. Nice cologne, by the way. I'm sure Hagiwara would approve of the selection." He taps the fingers of the hand he's wrapped around Rei's wrist earlier on the wooden table. Rei feels embarrassment well up. Hiro, as usual, is annoyingly perceptive. Still, cologne is not too out of the ordinary. He tries to cover his choice up with professionalism, and even almost believes himself.

"Yes. It's only proper for an establishment such as this one."

"Yes, yes." Hiro concedes, too easily. His eyes narrow, aiming for the kill. "And I guess red just happens to be your new favourite colour?" The crimson tie around his neck feels too much like a noose, suddenly, restricting his airflow. It's probably the damn candle's fault too, burning all their oxygen. He flushes, despite his best efforts.

"Not my favourite, but it felt appropriate for a celebration", he gets out. It really doesn't help that Hiro is wearing Akai's second skin, the one he's too comfortable seeing. Though the eyes are different, he has trouble shaking the reminder of certain evenings in the Kudo manor. Drinking their sorrows away, just the two of them.

"And you were going to celebrate with a romantic candlelight dinner?" Hiro's arched eyebrow could reach space.

"Trust me, that is as strange to me as it must be to you."

"Oh no, it isn't - I've seen the look he gets when you text him."

And Rei hates himself, hates his traitorous body that perks up at those words, hates the burning curiosity. Wants Hiro to explain, wants it to be true. Hates that Hiro knows how to play him, still, judging by that infuriatingly kind smile. Hiro is so lucky they're in public. He'd very much like to wipe it from his face.

Rei wonders, briefly, if that's why Akai selected the location, and didn't tell him the truth - if he'd asked, Rei's not sure he would have agreed to meet Hiro, the betrayal still too painful in his mind. Not that this kind of secrecy is appreciated. He really thought they were past that, by now. He'll need to deal with Akai, properly, later.

"Do I look like I care about what the FBI idiot is up to?"

He knows a tactical misstep when he sees it, and he's walked right into this one.

"To be quite honest with you: yes." Hiro hides his smile behind his glass of champagne. Badly. His eyes shine with amusement.

Damnit. What's the point of pretending when Hiro just sees right through him anyways? Rei's so tired of fighting himself at every step.

"Alright, fine. Make yourself useful, then. What did he look like?"

"He lit up like his phone's screen whenever a new text arrived." That, at least, is soothing. There had been quite a few texts. He'd assumed, after all, that he was keeping a bored and lonely Akai company. Just how long has Hiro been with him? Did Akai just ignored his best friend during their flight in favour of chatting with Rei? Asshole.

"If I dare say so, it was quite cute."

Rei doesn't bother to dignify that with a response. His burning cheeks probably provide more of an answer than he would like to give, anyways.

"Alright, I won't push you if you don't want to talk about it. Just know that I'll have an open ear for you, if you change your mind." He slips a card with a handwritten phone number in it. It's not much, but it's better than nothing. Rei memorizes it, then burns the paper.

"By the way." Hiro seems a little concerned, fiddling with his glass. "Akai gave me a couple of odd looks while we were flying back. Any idea what that's about? He went out of his way to sneak me into the country, and we had some good talks, so I struggle to see why he's upset with me?"

At this point, the waiter brings in their dessert.

A medium-sized chocolate cake, heart-shaped. A fork is delicately placed on either side.

Hiro shrugs in response to his questioning look. Amuro's customer service smile slips on easily enough. "I'm sorry? I think you've mistaken the dessert for this table."

"Ah, no, gentlemen. All dishes have been prepared according to the requests of the person making the reservation." How odd.

They thank the waiter, wait until he's out of earshot.

Disjointed information is snapping into place.

"Hiro, you've seen more of him recently. Please tell me this is Akai's idea of a joke."

Because the man has a keen sense of humour, even if it's often only for his own amusement. Gods know as Bourbon Rei wanted to strangle him for his quiet mockery.

But surely he can't be implying what Rei thinks he's implying.

"Hm." Hiro pauses for a minute, bless him, actually contemplating the issue while taking an appreciative bite from the chocolate cake. Which they will not be sharing, like that. Rei cuts it in half with his fork, dragging one half towards his side of the plate.

"I don't think so, no. It's hard to tell with him." 'No, it's not', Rei wants to say, 'you can tell by the barely visible laughter lines around his eyes.' He wisely keeps his mouth shut. It wouldn't help his case about how little is going on between him and Akai.

"But I'm inclined to say he was painfully sincere. It was his idea to arrange this dinner, and before he dropped me off, he wished me good luck. I assumed, at the time, that he was concerned about me walking back out alive without my head bitten off. Now, I think he might have somehow gotten the wrong idea about us."

Rei shoves a piece of chocolate cake into his mouth. The icing melts pleasantly on his tongue.

Akai set him up on a date with his best friend.

The FBI agent can be so smart when he needs to. How is he so hopeless whenever interpersonal relationships are involved?

"Idiot."

That's going to be a fun talk.

.

Sweater Weather AU masterpost

[nateserenas]

literally to present the world with a better version of you which could mean facing your future and and forgetting past mistakes or finally settling on a brand new path while they both stare at ticket stubs from a film they saw together (literally they both kept the tickets...) and then they promptly throw away the ticket stubs as though they've just been burnt because they catch themselves doing something terrible - thinking about each other. (literally they both kept the tickets but then absolutely did not think about why they'd kept the tickets, because as if they've reached a point where they'll allow themselves to realise that maybe it's possible for them to enjoy each other's company yet. and then them throwing away the tickets is them being like nope refusing to think about why I kept this it never happened i definitely did not willingly engage in recreational activity with dan humphrey/blair waldorf and then i definitely definitely definitely did not keep the evidence it just didn't happen none of it happened i will not think about it ticket gone means no more thoughts on the matter okay case closed moving on time to go visit serena...)

[kimsmingyu]

also another aspect of qot that i enjoyed is they met as children / met before plot because how it wasn't because of those previous meetings that they got together but they have the red string of fate and were destined to be together

[zeb-z]

Echo following change if it means he can make more of a difference, help more people. A reflection of Fives, who had no question about challenging authority, of Rex who will do what needs to be done to get the job done, of Cody who thinks before he leaps, of Ahsoka who puts kindness and mercy above all else, of Hevy who didn’t fear sacrifice for the greater good, of Anakin who can’t just sit still when he can actively do something about it. His decision to leave is not a choice he makes lightly, it’s something he has been stressing over since season one, weighing keeping Omega safe, running from the Empire, and the knowledge that with Rex they could be doing so much more against the rising injustice. But ultimately it was still his choice.

His place isn’t running bounties and avoiding the Empire. Echo, like Rex, like Fives, will be on the front lines so long as he’s needed there, because that’s where he can make the most difference. It’s like Rex told him - “if that’s where you feel your place is, then that’s where you belong.” He belongs to direct action and making a difference just as much as he belongs with his brothers and sister.

The fact that he has a family, a future beyond fighting, is very important. He’ll always be part of the Bad Batch, and he’ll return to them again (I have to believe that), but it’s not his place anymore, not right now. And the fact that it’s his choice, one he did not make without consideration, is important as well.

(and maybe there’s something to be said for Cody’s speech about the choices you make and living with them, because even the right one for you isn’t the right one for someone else. fighting has a cost, a fractured group and a lonely kid - but it’s still his choice, and that’s important. here’s to hoping it’s not a permanent consequence)

[strohller27]

.

[meikostan]

[cacaitos]

the girl from the other side is just superior mahoutsukai no yome, it’s like if mahoutsukai was normal.

[tvintedspvrkarc]

tag drop : admin

[toadeyes-miqote]

FFxiv Write 2023 Master list

Had not done continuous chapters in years. Took on this challenge to use some of the notes, partially done fics, scene descriptions in my notebooks. Had to go short story and summary/narrative (?) format due to lack of of a coherent chapter transition point and there being other little scenes in between those as well -_-'

If anything I cleared out a good chunk of my notes. Though some like Mor Dhona Days(ARR, EW 6.0 and 6.1) and Road to recovery stuff(EW between 6.0 and 6.1) still have bits and pieces coming out of the woodwork -_-'

Prompt #1: Envoy - An unused piece of Post EW timeline that involves traveling through Orthard with Hylnyan, Thancred, G'raha and Estinien Prompt #2: Bark - Post EW timeline, A parody dealing with Tomestone farming for mounts and a mount story Prompt #3: Extra Credit - Feathers. Post EW timeline but HW Vanu tribal quest related Prompt #4: Off the Hook - Taking Inventory 2 got transcribed. Hylnyan and Thancred's relationship Prompt #5: Barbarous - Timeline in mid EW, someone remembers Hylnyan all the way from end ARR as one of eight

Prompt #6: Ring - ShB 5.3 onwards Hylnyan from the POV of a dungeon support NPC's POV. Consider to be after Shed prompt Prompt #7: Noisome - EW dungeon run thing and a Miqo'te hunter Prompt #8: Shed - ShB post 5.3. My take on his mindset I guess Prompt #9: Fair - Mid HW between Awakening in Ul'dah and Into the Aery. short story for a thing that happened in Gpose Prompt #10: Extra Credit - Envoy. Post ARR, Taking Inventory 4 got transcribed. A very short window of happiness for Thancred. A Mor Dhona days short

Prompt #11: Once Bitten, Twice Shy - The start of EW end 6.0 Dreamless Sleep series. No she's not as okay as you think she is, that last solo duty took much out of her. Prompt #12: Dowdy - ShB clearly someone expected things to be fanicer with Hylnyan's sense of fashion. What?! Do you not know how puny she is compared to her enemies? Prompt #13: Check - Pre 6.5 EW short. Being delivery Miqo'te, feat Ryne Prompt #14: Clear - Mid EW, Hylnyan's decoy team and the fellow collaborators who knew since mid-late HW Prompt #15: Portentous - Post ARR Thancred and Cid short that finally got transcribed. A Mor Dhona days short

Prompt #16: Jerk - EW end 6.0 that is after Dreamless Sleep series, the Mor Dhona part of Road to reovery. Something ridculous about Housing and the people looking out for Hylnyan since the Bloody Banquet. A Mor Dhona days short. My personal fave. the notes were tame, this one came out silly. The noodle incident is what it is. Prompt #17: Resting this day Prompt #18: A Fish Out of Water - ARR Pray return to NG+ Prompt #19: Weal - EW end 6.0 Dreamless Sleep series, think about her companions who had to closed in around her, some of them been through this once in ShB Prompt #20: Hamper -EW end 6.0 Dreamless Sleep series, Aetherial Sea Team was suppose to get a short story to replace an earlier one that was scraped

Prompt #21: Grave - EW end 6.0 Dreamless Sleep series Prompt #22: Fulsome - ShB musing, Light corruption mindset. That which could have been. Prompt #23: Suit - Post EW timeline but SB Anata tribal quest related Prompt #24: Resting this day Prompt #25: Call it a Day - Post EW Pandemonium timeline, A parody dealing with Tomestone farming. Pandemonium boss spoiler

Prompt #26: Last - 6.4 timeline picking up ShB 5.5 stuff. Literally leveling WHM to clear the quest chain before touching 6.5 MSQ. Prompt #27: Sole - FFXIV short musing about Hylnyan Prompt #28: Blunt - EW end 6.0 Dreamless Sleep series news about the injured Hylnyan travels Prompt #29: Contravention - EW spoiler guest in Binding coil with special guest stars Gudako and Co from FGO and a certain missing Catdude who's story never got told because I'm not ready to play through the time line that he got thrown into. Prompt #30: Amity - EW end 6.0 Closing off the Dreamless Sleep series

[ellemj]

Strawberries

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader One-Shot: SMUT

Request by @cherrywinedarling: fuckboy!Bucky, sex pollen.

Summary: Bucky, the man with a long list of girls on his roster, gets exposed to a sex pollen in the field. Will he fuck the first girl he calls or the girl he's wanted for the last two months?

Warnings: profanity, sex pollen (dubcon), fingering, unprotected sex, fuckboy!Bucky, size kink, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 7.5k

A/N: Special thanks to @cherrywinedarling for submitting such an inspirational (fcking hot) request and coming up with the entire plot of Bucky being unable to get himself off with a random girl, and only being able to get what he needs from reader. Lowkey loved writing this. And thanks as always to @littlemiss-yeehaw for pre-reading and catching some errors.

            Twice. No, maybe it was actually three times. Definitely three times. Bucky can remember being exposed to different versions of HYDRA’s sex pollen three times before. Each time was strictly for experimental or torture purposes rather than being done with the intent of breeding super soldiers, but it happened three times, nonetheless. So, this would be number four.

            Bucky lets the cool water from the shower faucet splash over his face for a minute before beginning to scrub his skin with a wet, soapy cloth. He tried to tell you that it wasn’t anything to stress over, that he’d keep his distance from the rest of the team on the quinjet and then lock himself in his room once you were all back at the compound, but you insisted on doing things the right way. He didn’t have to take an order from you, but he did. He shot you a frustrated look before making a crude comment and trudging off to the safehouse bathroom to take a shower like you’d told him to.

            “I’ll leave the door unlocked for you, don’t keep me waiting too long.” Bucky had said it with a smirk as he stood in the living room of the safehouse and stripped his shirt off with ease. But that smirk was gone the moment he shut himself in the bathroom and turned on the faucet. He’s been through this three times before but it was never enjoyable. It’ll start out as a sort of general discomfort, maybe some body aches and chills as his temperature rises slowly. Then it’ll progress to cardiovascular symptoms: his heart will begin to race, he’ll hear the thumping sound of blood rushing in his ears, his blood pressure will spike. In a normal person, the dangerous spike in blood pressure would be enough to cause a stroke, but Bucky’s vascular system has much more elasticity than a normal person. He’ll be fine. It’s the third stage of the drug’s effects that will really drive him mad. He’ll begin to feel the undeniable urge to fuck.

            As you carefully piece together the gun that you’ve just dismantled, cleaned, and oiled, you’re lost in thought. You’ve done enough research over the years to know that HYDRA worked overtime to come up with various chemical compounds that would induce a near primal sexual drive in super soldiers. They wanted a sure way to grow an army of super soldiers over time without having to go through the process of wiping countless minds clean and reprogram them. You almost audibly laugh when you think about the irony of Bucky Barnes being exposed to one of those very sex pollens on your mission today. Bucky Barnes, the man who lately seems to be attempting to catch up on his eighty-something years worth of celibacy, has been exposed to a chemical compound that will make him even more insatiable than he’s already known to be. You have to wonder if he’s secretly thrilled that he has the drug coursing through his veins now.

            “You’re not gonna go help your friend out with this?” Sam’s voice rings out from somewhere behind you just as you’re reloading your gun and sliding it into the side holster of your tactical pants. You laugh lightly, shaking your head as you begin packing up the last of your belongings from the kitchen table.

            “He’s fucked every girl he’s met since he finished therapy, I think he has a long list of people who can help him out when we get back home.” Though there’s a lighthearted tone behind your words, you’re serious. Bucky’s been a ladies’ man since he stopped seeing Dr. Raynor for mandatory therapy sessions, and not just your average good looking, single bachelor type of ladies’ man. Bucky’s a fuckboy. Sure, he seems to be respectful about it. He doesn’t lead girls on, doesn’t make them think there’s ever a possibility for something more than one or two nights in his bed, and he leaves them all satisfied. But he’s still a fuckboy.

            Your words didn’t hurt his feelings. Bucky can’t fault you for being perceptive. He really has fucked almost every girl he’s met in the last couple of months. Hell, he would’ve fucked you too if you’d just given him a chance. That’s how you ended up becoming friends. He tried like hell to get you into his bed shortly after you were assigned to the team and moved into the room next door to his, but you were adamant that you weren’t looking to be a notch on his bedpost. However, instead of telling him to fuck off, you put up with his shit and even seemed to have a good time doing so. So, you ended up being the only female friend of his that hasn’t been tangled up in his bedsheets.

            Although your words weren’t necessarily hurtful, Bucky still finds himself a little bothered. He was just about to join you and Sam in packing things up and getting ready to head out when he overheard your conversation and swiftly turned back around, quietly shutting himself in the bathroom once again. You’re right, he does have a long list of people who can help him out when you get back home. God, you’re always right. If he wasn’t so inexplicably drawn to you, he’d probably hate you. But being friends with you is one of the few things that keeps him from comparing his life now to his life eighty years ago. The girl from the bar last week, that’s who he’ll call when he gets home. She was pretty. She had a nice smile, eyes that really drew him in, and she was easy to talk to. She could definitely be the solution to the problem at hand. The more Bucky thinks about her, the more he realizes she sort of reminds him of you. Shit. He’s done that too many times in the past month, brought home girls that seem so familiar but it isn’t until he’s fucked them that he realizes they remind him of you. Why the hell does that keep happening?

---

            It’s just an hour later when you’re all arriving back at the compound. Sam excuses himself to go brief Fury and a few other higher-ups on everything that went down during your op, while you and Bucky head for the main tower, each of you ready to unwind in different ways. As you take the elevator up, your eyes wander over to Bucky, who stands to your right. His cheeks are flushed pink, a few stray strands of hair are stuck to his forehead with sweat, and he’s rubbing the back of his neck with his flesh hand like it’s sore to the touch. He acted like being exposed to a sex pollen was just another day at work for him, but you know him well enough to know that at the very least, he’s uncomfortable right now.

            When the elevator doors slide open to let you both out into the main room of the living quarters, Bucky doesn’t even wait to let you off first like he usually does. He steps in front of you and exits quickly, walking a little faster than usual to get to his room down the hall. Maybe that’s what makes you feel bad for him, or maybe it’s the fact that he feels like he has to pretend like he’s unbothered in front of you and Sam instead of telling you how much it sucks to have such a vile chemical compound wreaking havoc within his body.

            “Do you need anything?” You ask softly as you pass Bucky in the hall and near your own door, just a few steps beyond his. The sound of your voice breaks his focus and he drops his keys at his feet. Bucky stoops down to retrieve them and then turns his full body to face you from five feet away. You work on unlocking your own door, but cast a sideways glance in his direction. His usual smirk is notably missing, and a stormy, hard-to-discern look has taken its place.

            “If I do, I can call one of the girls I’ve met since I finished therapy.” The words are like ice: cold and jarring, sending a chill down your spine. He overheard you and Sam earlier. You don’t know why you feel like a kid sitting in the principal’s office, not when you’ve teased him over his fuckboy ways for as long as you’ve known him. It shouldn’t have bothered him that much considering it was true. Why do you feel like shit for having said it now? More importantly, why does his response to your question feel like a rejection?

            When Bucky steps into his room and shuts the door behind him, you hear him seal himself in with the resounding metal click of a lock. If only he’d known that a deadbolt wouldn’t keep you away.

---

            You’ve just finished showering and getting yourself ready for bed when you hear the familiar sound of Bucky’s door opening and closing down the hall, followed by two sets of quiet footsteps heading in the opposite direction. Two sets of footsteps? Bucky must’ve called for one of his late-night guests a little early tonight, to help with his situation. You’ve lived next door to him for a couple of months now and if you’ve learned anything, it’s that the man has stamina. So, for one of his guests to have arrived and left in the short time that it took you to shower and pull on some pajamas, something must’ve gone wrong.

            Bucky stands with his back pressed against the cool metal wall of the elevator and his arms crossed over his chest as he mentally kicks his own ass. He couldn’t go through with it. He called the girl from the bar, the one who reminded him of you. He invited her over, took her upstairs to his room, gave her a mind-blowing orgasm with minimal effort, but the moment he heard her cry out his name, he knew he wasn’t going to sleep with her. She sounded nothing like you, not even similar enough that he could’ve imagined she was you.

            “Thanks for coming over on such short notice, it was good to see you.” Bucky forces himself to break the silence in the elevator. When his eyes land on the girl standing a few inches to his left, she offers him a genuine smile.

            “Of course, I had a good time. I wish you would’ve let me make things even though.” She says, referring to the way Bucky had gotten her off but then briskly offered to walk her back downstairs. He nods slowly, tracing the backs of his teeth with the tip of his tongue.

            “Yeah, maybe next time.” There won’t be a next time, not when he’s stuck thinking about how hard it was to imagine the girl being you. A few minutes later, Bucky’s guest is riding off into the night in the car he called for her. He’s left standing in front of the tower, feeling the full effects of the sex pollen as he enters the peak hour of its activity. There it is, that undeniable urge to fuck.

            You’re sitting in an armchair by your bedroom window, munching on a bowl of strawberries that you settled on as a late-night snack, when you hear one set of footsteps coming down the hall. It’s the sound of Bucky returning to his room alone. You have to wonder if the sex pollen decreased his stamina. It must have, otherwise his little guest would’ve been here for at least another hour or two. You make a mental note to research that in some of the old HYDRA files tomorrow, out of sheer curiosity. As you sit there in your chair, licking a drop of strawberry juice off of your bottom lip, you can’t help but wonder what the hell Bucky’s doing. By your calculations, he should be experiencing the worst of the sex pollen effects right now, yet he’s alone in his room. You remind yourself that he doesn’t want your help, that he doesn’t need your help. You tell yourself that he probably took care of every urge he had with the girl that he invited over earlier, and then you try to focus on your snack and the TV show you have playing quietly on your TV.

            When you hear the distant sound of a pained grunt coming from the other side of your bedroom wall, every muscle in your body goes rigid. You quickly pause your show and set your empty bowl on the small table beside your armchair. Only a few seconds go by before you hear another grunt, followed by the sound of what you surmise is Bucky’s fist colliding with something in his room. Before your mind has a moment to attempt a rational thought process, your feet are carrying you out of your own room and down the hallway to Bucky’s closed door. Your fist is rapping against his door softly at first, knowing he’s awake and you don’t have to be very loud for him to hear you. No answer. You knock again, a little harder this time, hoping he hasn’t stroked out from a spike in his blood pressure. Still, no answer. The third time you knock, you use the side of your fist instead of your knuckles, and you bang on his door so hard that you feel it rattle on its hinges.

            Bucky heaves a deep sigh before unlocking the door and pulling it open, knowing you’ll be standing on the other side of it. Just the sight of you has Bucky’s already hard cock twitching in his sweats and he has to avert his gaze, choosing to look over your shoulder instead of right at you.

            “I would’ve answered the first time if I wanted to talk to you right now.” Bucky says coldly. A chorus of go away’s play on repeat in his mind as he wishes with every fiber of his being that you’d do just that.

            “You didn’t sleep with her, did you?” One look at Bucky’s disheveled state, his messy hair, the sheen of sweat making his chest and abs gleam under the dim lights of the hallway, and the way his breaths are coming in much more shallow than usual, tells you that you’re right. Bucky meets your gaze for a brief second, and his eyes give you the answer his mouth won’t. He didn’t sleep with her. “How bad is it?”

            “I’ve been through this before.” Bucky reminds you, running a hand through his hair and squeezing his eyes shut. You’re standing in front of him wearing a pair of gray joggers, a little cropped tank top, and a light cardigan over your shoulders. He knows that tank top well. If the lighting was a little better, he’d be able to see straight through the thin fabric of it. God, he needs you to leave. “Like I said earlier, if I need help, I have people I can call.”

            “You called someone and it clearly didn’t help, Bucky.” Just the sound of his name leaving your lips has him biting the inside of his cheek.

            “Go to bed.” His tone is authoritative now. But of course, you’d never take an order from him. Especially not when he’s so obviously miserable. Your eyes drift down his torso, taking in the sight of the super soldier that stands before you nearly drowning in a chemically-induced state of arousal. You don’t really know why it pains you to see him like this, why it pains you that he keeps rejecting your help, but you’ve had enough. When you continue to stand in front of Bucky, defying his order for you to go to bed, he drops his hand from his hair and narrows his eyes at you. As you make eye contact with him, an unfamiliar warmth begins to spread along the surface of your skin. Maybe that’s what made you do it, maybe the warmth is what made you start taking your clothes off. You don’t really know what it was, but once you started you knew you wouldn’t stop.

            Your fingers begin carefully tugging on the drawstring of your joggers, loosening the tied knot as you look into Bucky’s conflicted blue eyes. You continue watching him as his gaze darts down to the motion of your hands, his eyes widening as he realizes what you’re doing.

            “What can I do to help?” You ask the question in a whisper. It’s obvious what you’re offering and it has Bucky’s mind racing. He’s wanted you in his bed since the day he met you, but you never gave in to his chase. He’s sure that you’re only giving in now because you think that he needs you to, because you’re ever the kind, helpful girl next door for him. You’ve finished untying the drawstring of your pants and you’re letting the cardigan slip off of your shoulders, baring even more of your skin to him, when Bucky has to stop you. He reaches out with both hands, catching the soft fabric of your sweater in his hands and pulling it back up to cover your shoulders.

            “You can go to bed, that would be really fucking helpful.” Bucky rasps. The fingertips of his flesh hand graze over the skin of your shoulder as he sets your cardigan back in its place, and the contact sends a fresh wave of primal need throughout his body. That wave of need is quickly followed by a horrible ache that forces him to draw his hands back to his sides and clench his fists.

            “Bucky, stop rejecting me.” A sudden boldness comes over you and you find yourself placing both palms against his chest and pushing him back into his room. He doesn’t fight you as you take two steps inside and shut the door behind you, letting the room engulf both of you in near-darkness.

            “Rejecting you? You’ve rejected me since we met.” Bucky scoffs, falling back to sit on the foot of his bed. He brings his elbows to his knees and lets his head dip down to rest in his hands. He may not be watching you, but he’s listening intently as you strip off your cardigan and drop it in the armchair by his window.

            “Yeah, I wasn’t going to sleep with the guy who slept with everyone. But now we’re friends, and I’m not going to sit next door while you suffer through this alone.” Bucky dares to sneak a glance at you through his hands. You’re standing a foot in front of him, now in just your sweats and tank top, with your hands on your hips. God, your hips. He’s imagined holding onto those hips while he fucks you from behind so many times. His eyes flutter closed as he lets out a groan. “Bucky, please.” You saying please in such a circumstance is what breaks him.

            When Bucky pushes himself off of the foot of the bed and comes to stand only a few inches in front of you, you take half a second to wonder if you’ve just opened a dangerous can of worms.

            “Think about what you’re offering.” Bucky’s voice is shaky, but his gaze is hardened as he looks into your eyes. “This isn’t just some favor between friends.” You stay quiet for a moment as you run through the scenario in your head. You imagine going through with it and having sex with him, fulfilling his needs and lessening the pain that he feels from the sex pollen. You imagine the sun rising in the morning and the two of you pretending like nothing ever happened. Why does that last part make you feel uneasy? The idea of sleeping with him tonight doesn’t seem to bother you in the least, but the idea of going right back to normal tomorrow doesn’t sit so well with you.

            “I think it’s better if we don’t think about it.” Without letting another thought through your mind, you grasp the waistband of your joggers and begin pushing them down your thighs. As more and more of your skin is revealed to Bucky, his heart rate picks up and his breath hitches in his throat. When you stand up straight in front of him, with your joggers now lying on his bedroom floor, he has to bite his bottom lip to keep from grabbing you and throwing you down on his bed. You can see the wheels in his mind turning as he overthinks this. It’s the thing he’s wanted since he met you, being offered to him on a silver platter, but he can’t stop thinking about how this could ruin the most real friendship that he’s had since Steve. You do the only thing you can think to do to break him out of his thoughts. You step forward and take both of his hands in yours, guiding them up to your face. When his palms make contact with either side of your jaw, his thumbs are quick to begin caressing your cheeks, as if the gentle touch is instinct for him, as if the two of you have done this countless times before. “I said don’t think about it.”

            His blue eyes search yours for any sign of hesitation, but he finds none. So, he takes the leap. Bucky leans in and closes the gap between the two of you, his lips finding yours in the darkness. With the first brush of his lips against yours, your eyes flutter closed and you’re at his mercy. You part your lips to accept him, feeling a rush of heat travel through your body as he sucks on your bottom lip gently. You didn’t expect a kiss from Bucky Barnes to be so gentle. You expected it to be hasty, used as a means to an end rather than for the simple pleasure of kissing. But Bucky kisses like it’s as vital to his being as breathing. His tongue glides along your top lip slowly, feeling his way into your mouth before fully tasting you. As soon as his tongue tangles with yours, he pulls back, his hands still cupping either side of your face.

            “You taste like strawberries.” He says, licking his lips as he peers down at you with narrowed eyes. Blush creeps into your cheeks, you can’t tell if he’s saying that as a good thing or a bad thing with the hard-to-read expression on his face. Another lick of his lips and a smile begins to tug on the corners of his mouth. “You taste like strawberries.” He repeats, going back for more. This time, you experience the less gentle kiss that you initially expected from him. He wastes no time in sliding his tongue back into your mouth and letting it work in tandem with yours. As he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, his vibranium hand slides down and wraps around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible. His flesh hand ghosts over your jawline, along the side of your neck, and then you feel him wrap it around your throat just lightly enough that you notice it. Something about having his hand around your throat sets a fire ablaze inside of you, and before you know it, your hands are flat on his chest. You almost wish he had a shirt on so you could grip onto the fabric and tug him further into you.

            Bucky’s losing his mind. He’s losing his goddamn mind because you’re in his bedroom, your pants are on his floor, and you’re kissing him back. You’re kissing him and you taste like strawberries. The longer you let him kiss you like this, with one of his hands wrapped lightly around your throat and the other resting dangerously close to your ass, the more his fuckboy ways start to evaporate right through his skin. Kissing you for thirty seconds makes him rethink his entire lifestyle.

            You’re the one to pull back this time, you pull back the moment Bucky shifts his stance and you feel the outline of his fully erect cock pressing against your lower stomach. This time when you part, his gaze is so much softer. As much as you’re enjoying kissing him, you know that’s not what he needs right now. Taking matters into your own hands, you move past Bucky and sit on the foot of his bed. His eyes follow every move you make.

            “Are you sure about this?” He has to ask. He has to know that he isn’t taking advantage of you and your friendship before this goes any further. He isn’t so sure he’ll be able to stop once he’s really touched you, so he’s offering you an out now. When you nod, keeping your eyes on Bucky, he lets out a soft sigh of relief. Your eyes follow him as he moves around the bed to the nightstand and pulls open the top drawer. After pulling out a little square packet and dropping it on top of the bed, he looks over at you once more. “You’ll tell me if I’m too rough?”

            “I trust you.” You whisper. Bucky’s eyes darken as his pupils dilate even more and he begins walking back to the foot of the bed, coming to stand right in front of you.

            “You trust me.” He repeats the words slowly, savoring them. You trust him. He looks down at you with an even mix of lust and admiration, but you only notice the lust. Raising his right hand up, he tucks your hair behind one ear and then traces a line from the point of your jaw to the tip of your chin with his index finger. Bucky curls that finger beneath your chin and tilts your face upward. The way your eyes pierce his, he feels like you’re looking straight into his soul, like you’re seeing every darkened corner within him that he’s tried so hard to hide. Instead of feeling vulnerable, he feels at home under your watchful stare.

            Bucky tilts his head to the side and his eyes flit behind you to the expanse of the bed, signaling that he wants you to move back onto it. You do just that, turning over so your back is to him as you crawl further up on the mattress. A soft groan from Bucky lets you know he likes the view already, and you smile to yourself. You always knew he was attracted to you, but having the extra confirmation now really feeds your confidence. You can hear the rustling of fabric behind you and when you turn over once again to lay on your back, holding yourself up on your elbows, you see that Bucky has tossed his sweatpants onto the floor beside yours. Now, you see your friend, standing before you in only a pair of black boxers. Your breath hitches in your throat when your eyes land on the bulge beneath the thin fabric.

            “Oh my god, you’re so big.” Your eyes widen and dart back up to meet Bucky’s. Of course, he has a smug smile plastered across his face.

            “You couldn’t have guessed that?” He asks, placing one knee on the foot of the bed as he looks you over.

            “I never thought about it.” You find yourself staring at it again, but Bucky blocks your view when he starts crawling over your body.

            “You don’t have to lie, sweetheart.” Bucky tsks, resting his body weight on you as he leans in and kisses your neck. You find yourself tilting your head to the side to give him more access, loving the way he alternates between licking and sucking your skin. “God, you taste like strawberries, you smell like strawberries.” Bucky grunts against your neck before sitting back on his knees between your legs. “I don’t think I can wait much longer.” He says quietly, analyzing your expression. You study his face for a moment, taking in his flushed cheeks, the way his chest is rapidly rising and falling, and even the way the tips of his ears are turning pink. His blood pressure is spiking.

            You push yourself up to a sitting position and without thinking, you tug your tank top over your head, tossing it on the floor and completely baring your chest to Bucky.

            “Fuck.” The curse falls from his lips as his eyes devour your nearly naked body. It takes him a few seconds to compose himself and focus. When you start shimmying out of your panties, he moves to stand on the floor beside the bed, squeezing his eyes shut as he takes his own boxers off. He’s worried if he gets one look at you completely naked in his bed, he’ll start cumming and because of the sex pollen, he won’t stop.

            “Look at me.” Your voice is too kind, too sweet for someone so willing to be fucked. But Bucky listens, opening his eyes and meeting your gaze. His hand is fisting around his cock within a second, stroking it as he looks not at your body, but into your fucking soul. “You’re supposed to be letting me help you.” You remind him, fighting the urge to look down at where he’s touching himself. Bucky groans again but starts climbing back over you, his hard cock dragging along the skin of your thigh as he situates himself over you but slightly to one side, resting his weight on one elbow.

            “I don’t want to hurt you.” Bucky presses a kiss to your lips. It’s a kiss he meant to be quick and reassuring, but neither of you could resist deepening it. So, he licks into your mouth once again, loving the way you taste, and you feel his right hand sliding down your stomach. His fingertips ghost lightly over your thigh at first, testing the waters, but you don’t flinch away. He has to make sure you can take him. He knows he’s big, and he has no idea how long it’s been since the last time you were with someone. When his hand ventures between your legs, you spread them without hesitation, continuing to kiss him with a growing desperation. The moment Bucky lets his fingertips glide along your wet folds, he can’t stop himself from rutting against your thigh. “You’re so wet for me, fuck.” A soft hum leaves your lips but it’s quickly transformed into a moan when Bucky applies pressure to your clit and begins to circle the pads of his fingers over it. Sparks of pleasure ignite, urging you to spread your legs even more and break away from his mouth to take in a gasp of air.

            “Bucky, you don’t have to—” You’re cut off by your own cry when Bucky abandons your clit and slips two fingers inside of you, sending them only halfway as he watches between your legs. He’s in awe of you. Your back arches off of his mattress and he’s so tempted to kiss and lick all over your breasts, but he can’t ignore the overwhelming ache in his lower stomach and cock for much longer. He curls his fingers against your walls slowly, turning to watch your face this time. He studies you as your eyes scrunch closed and your mouth parts to let a heavy pant past your lips. You look fucking perfect. He knows the longer he delays his own release, the worse he’ll feel physically. He can already hear the blood rushing in his ears and feels the pain throughout his body worsening with every sound you make, but he wants this to be good for you. He needs this to be good for you. So, Bucky begins dragging his fingers out and then pushing them right back in, over and over again. He works you up to being able to take them deeper and deeper until he can’t push them in any more. That’s when he leans into you and leaves light kisses across your right cheek and temple. You find yourself leaning into his touch.

            “I can’t wait anymore.” Bucky grunts, as he pulls his fingers out of you slowly one last time. He wants so badly to lick his fingers and taste you, but he knows that if he gets a taste, he won’t ever be able to get over it. He’d spend every day doing whatever the hell he had to do just to get more. Instead, Bucky slides those two wet fingers over the head of his cock, mixing your arousal with his precum and spreading it down the shaft. He gives it a few strokes, letting his head fall against your shoulder as he begins to feel just the slightest bit of relief inside his body. But it isn’t enough. Bucky lets go of his cock and leans over you, reaching across the bed to grab the condom he placed there earlier. When he rolls onto his back and begins tearing the small wrapper open, you take matters into your own hands.

            Bucky damn near feels butterflies when you move to straddle him, bracing your hands on his bare chest as you swing a leg over him.

            “Just give me a second.” Bucky grunts, his eyes darting between the half open condom wrapper and where you’re lowering yourself down over him. He gets the condom out of the wrapper but freezes when he feels your dripping cunt grind along the shaft of his cock. “Shit, be careful.” He warns you through gritted teeth. You know you really should be careful. Hell, he’s slept with so many girls just in the last month that you should be using any and every form of protection out there. Not to mention the fact that both the super soldier serum and sex pollen really ramped up his reproductive system, increasing his sperm count and motility like crazy. The man could easily save the human race from extinction if he was the last viable male on Earth. But you’re not thinking straight. You’re not thinking straight at all when you begin grinding down and circling your hips against him, reveling in the feeling of his hard cock pressing against your clit. You drag your hips back and forth as Bucky’s hands move to grip you there, with the unwrapped condom still in his right hand. You can feel that little piece of latex between his palm and your hip. The thought crosses your mind so briefly, but once the seed is planted, there’s no going back. Feeling the condom all rolled up between Bucky’s hand and your hip is really what planted the seed. You want to feel him inside you, without a damn thing in between. So, you grind along the length of his cock once more, but when you near the tip, you continue sliding forward on it and grinding down until you feel it against your entrance, and then you grind down a little harder, angling your hips just right so it starts to slide in.

            “Oh my god.” You moan out, letting your head fall back as you reach down with one hand and start fully guiding him inside of you. Bucky can only watch, his grip on your hips getting impossibly tighter. You’ve only taken in the head of his cock when you still yourself, trying your best to adjust to his ample size. You feel a mix of stinging pain and pleasure, but he did such a thorough job of preparing you with his fingers that the sting is minimal.

            “I’m not wearing a condom.” Bucky pants, scanning your face as you slide down another couple of inches. He’s nearly halfway in now and it’s taking every single ounce of his self-control to keep from pulling your hips down and making you take all of it. Your eyes flutter open and lock onto his.

            “I know.” You pair your two little words with the act of forcing yourself to take the rest of his length. Your clit brushes against the base of his cock and for a moment, you actually think he might be too big for you.

            “Fuck.” Bucky groans lowly. His eyes scrunch shut even though he so badly wants to keep them wide open and memorize the way you look when you’re being fucking ruined by his cock. His balls feel so full and heavy, even more so than usual with the way the sex pollen is screwing up his reproductive system, and the fact that you’re the one he’s balls deep inside of isn’t helping. You really should’ve let him put on a condom, but he sure as hell isn’t going to stop you now. Bucky releases his hold on your hip with his right hand and lets the unused condom fall from his grasp, watching as it lands on the bed. When he digs his fingers into the skin of your hips once more, the sensation spurs you to attempt moving. You start with slow up and down movements, only fucking half of his cock, unsure if you could manage the whole thing at once. But when you get a look at Bucky’s face, at the way it’s contorted with pleasure yet restrained as if he’s holding himself back, you know you need to give him more. So, you take a deep breath and begin lifting yourself off of his cock. Bucky’s eyes follow, so focused on the way you leave his cock glistening as you pull off of it. When only the head is left inside of you, you breathe out as you sit all the way back down. Fuck, it hurts when he’s all the way in but you don’t want to stop. God, you don’t want to stop for anything. You go again, trying the movement a little faster this time, earning a soft grunt from Bucky and a few bruises on your hips as his hold tightens more.

            “Bucky, you’re too big.” You finally say, after sliding down onto his length the third time. You want to ride his dick and do as much of the work for him as you can right now, but there’s just no way. There’s no way you can pick up the pace and set a good rhythm when he’s so fucking thick and long that you feel him in your stomach every time you sit down. You don’t have the time that you’d need to adjust, you don’t want to make him wait for you to be ready for it. So, you need a new position. Bucky understands immediately. As much as he was loving seeing you fuck his cock all by yourself, his insides are screaming at him to take control and do whatever he needs to do to get himself off.

            Bucky eases you down onto his full length one more time, simultaneously hating and loving the way you cringe once you’re fully seated. Then, in one quick, smooth movement, he captures your hands in his and tugs you down to his chest, before rolling both of you over so he’s on top.

            “We can save that for next time.” Bucky promises, positioning himself so that the majority of his weight rests on his forearms on either side of your head. As soon as the words have left his mouth, you realize what he’s just said, but he doesn’t. He leans down and licks your bottom lip while you’re lying beneath him, with his cock motionless inside you, as you remind yourself that there will never be a next time. Bucky’s a fuckboy through and through, you’ve never known him to sleep with the same girl twice, and you can’t imagine anything about tonight is going to change that. “Are you adjusted?” He asks, pulling back from your face to look into your eyes. You bend your knees a little and take in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as you focus on your senses. No pain. You nod your head and let your hands ghost along Bucky’s sides.

            “Are you always this gentle and thoughtful in bed?” The question sneaks past your lips before you can stop it, but Bucky chuckles as he begins to pull his hips back, sliding his cock out of you inch by inch.

            “You think I’m gentle and thoughtful?” Of course he’d take your question as a compliment. Or…maybe not. Bucky shoots you a mischievous look before biting down on his bottom lip and snapping his hips forward, thrusting into you so hard that your back arches off of the bed and your breasts press up against the skin of his bare chest. He took it as a fucking challenge.

            “I take it back.” You whine. You dig your nails into the skin of his back hoping to draw a little pain from him, but truthfully, he loves it. He begins slowly dragging his cock back out of you while you’re wondering how the hell he’s still so composed and restrained. “I thought being exposed to a sex pollen would’ve made this a quick, sort of desperate kind of thing.”

            “Is that what you wanted?” Another snap of his hips and you’re filled with his cock again.

            “I didn’t say that, it’s just what I expected. Does it not make you feel like fucking the shit out of anyone you can get your hands on?” Your fingers dance up his sides until they’re tangled in his messy hair. Another slow drag of his hips and you’re feeling nearly empty.

            “It does, but like I said, I don’t want to hurt you.”

            “Hurt me.” He freezes with his cock halfway out of you. Your own eyes widen at your unexpected request. Where the hell did your filter go? You didn’t even mean it the way it sounds, you just meant that you don’t want him to keep holding back for your sake. “I meant—”

            “I know what you meant.” Bucky grunts, clearly turned on by the presumed meaning behind your words. He lowers himself down until his body weight feels like a warm, thick blanket covering every inch of your body. He’s giving you what you want. The talking part is over, you realize, as Bucky lets his forehead fall into the crook of your neck and slides his knees beneath your thighs, opening you up for him even more.

            Then, he fucks you. He sets a rhythm and pace so desperate and unforgiving that every thrust causes the mattress to bounce you right back up against him. No matter how much he pulls out, you continuously feel the presence of his cock inside you. Every breath he breathes against your neck, every time his lips ghost over your skin, every needy grunt that meets your ears feeds you like a dose of ecstasy. The atmosphere is reduced to the sounds of skin on skin, panting breaths, and obscene curses and moans falling from parted lips. Bucky fucks you more thoroughly than he’s fucked anyone in the last two months. When he hears your moans increase in pitch and your breaths becoming more and more shallow, he drives his cock into you harder and deeper, making sure his name is the only thing on your mind. You give him no warning when your orgasm begins to tear through your body, but you don’t have to. Your cunt grips his cock so tightly that pulling out to thrust into you is damn near painful, so Bucky begins grinding into you, moving his hips in rhythmic circles. When your breaths begin to come a little easier, Bucky’s own release is threatening to spill over, so he starts to slow his hips and pull out of you. He isn’t wearing a condom and he knows this won’t be a small mess by any means.

But you, the girl next door, the girl who tastes like fucking strawberries, you slide your hands down and grab his hips every bit as harshly as he grabbed yours earlier, and you pull him further into you. An orgasm hits him like a fucking freight train. It wasn’t even the sensation of being inside you that sent him over the edge, as heavenly as that was. No, it was the fact that you wouldn’t let him pull out. The fact that you didn’t even let him wear a condom. The fact that you’re you and you’re so desperate for his cum that you’d hold him there and take it like you had a right to. After three seconds, Bucky’s surpassing a normal amount of cum, and both of you are fully aware of it.

“It won’t stop, fuck.” Bucky groans against your neck as he slowly ruts into you, trying to get himself through his orgasm. “There’s so much cum.”

“That’s okay, it’s okay, Bucky.” You whisper, moving your hands back up to his head and carding your fingers through his hair. “I can take it.”

Shit. He might be in love with you.

[anantaru]

4 RULES TO SURVIVE A DIVORCE (GONE WRONG)

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — deciding to end your marriage with neuvillette might've been the hardest decision you've ever had to make in your life, although now, navigating through the divorce was becoming even more difficult, especially when you suddenly fail to stick to four simple rules you have both set between each other.

— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 7.8k

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ns]fw, fem! reader, ex! husband neuvillette, divorced couple goals lmao, fluff & crack, p with plot, lovers to strangers to lovers, size kink/size difference, rough sex, unprotected sex, unresolved tension and lots of bickering, sassy comments from the both of you, it's very much giving married old couple, office sex, cumming inside

RULE NUMBER 1: KEEP YOUR DISTANCE AT ALL TIMES

by the sixth day of waking up to an empty bed— with the left side untouched and consisting of nothing but a feeble scent of vacant perfume, neuvillette has decided that he's had enough.

which wasn't to say that he's had enough of sleep, even though that's certainly a potent route to take, yet the neuvillette the people of fontaine knew was only the one they believed they knew.

in this agonizing moment in time, he wasn't sure on how long he could act out this picture-perfect facade for the sake of his people.

they thought he was brilliant, attractive, chocolate-box pretty.

a radiant, enigmatic dragon that was quite the sight to behold, his smile reminding the flowers of spring-time to blossom to their original beauty— awakening their way of life— ah well, such lovely things to ruminate on, or when they decide to appreciate his delicateness, how uniquely he viewed the world and how otherworldly soft he chose to explore it.

in a true sense, the alluring stories the people of fontaine told each other got one single piece about him right; that neuvillette was very handsome and soft to someone's eyes.

with all ones heart, the man unquestionably had enough of the irrefutable coldness wearing down on his shoulders, sitting there alone in an empty bedroom that was previously essential to his well being, with misery written all over his face and bursting at the seams of his mental health, just enough for him to stop talking all at once.

the cold bedspread was rough against his naked body, the mattress too soft to rest on and giving in beneath his weight. wholly crestfallen did neuvillette realize that sadly, the only way to return to the life he's lived a couple months ago, return to where he should be, was to somehow learn on how to travel back in time and make things right.

which from the bottom of his heart, was impossible.

it was confusing, he has to admit, because the only factor he found somewhat common now was on how empty the bedroom was— besides his own belongings, which weren't a lot in the first place, everything else was taken by you weeks ago, beloved items that were brimful of memories stacked in cold boxes and delivered to your new home.

a predictable event, he knows, and how embarrassingly predictable it had gotten that neuvillette found himself in teething trouble, precisely the issue of his sleep schedule in this bed— one you had bought together, shared together every single day, one you had made love to each other every single night.

a slump of mindless memories waft through his psyche, resembling a wicket current of catastrophes as he ultimately came to the conclusion that the reason he was unable to sleep must be because of you— his serious issues on being unable to rest, it has to be because of you.

neuvillette's thoughts and judgments were all scattered, rummaging through the vortex of problems he had endured through the weeks, a matter much more pressing than all of the other issues put together— he continuously waits and aches, hopes and dreams, and before he notices he's slowly healing, it all comes crashing down on him again.

a recollection long gone relives itself in his mind's eye, and his previous gaze gets overturned by a new, haunting stare.

this is why he had bought the bed in the first place, he remembers it vividly now, it's because you fell in love with it right away, you liked the way it felt underneath your body, heedless of how he personally never really found it comfortable.

concealed from everyone's eyes, neuvillette was deeply saddened, but he hadn't given his mental health much thought yet, because how do you even process that your wife has left you?

how do you tell anybody that you failed as a husband?

and it's raining again? what a hassle, although now he's acquired another way to fault himself on, most importantly hurt himself, because no one deserved the bad weather other than he himself did.

for the first time after gaining the position of the iudex of fontaine, neuvillette did not want to go to work. what if someone begins to ask too many invasive questions when he visits the palais mermonia today?

if that's the immediate case that was going to happen, he begins to think about it more clearly— a person asking about his private life was definitely trespassing his boundaries, right? he could immediately do something about it and put them on trial.

by that logic of his, neuvillette cannot fathom how humiliating it was, his face clouds with a mixture of desperation and disappointment in himself, because he can already imagine the hot off the press headlines on the cover of the steambird;

ATTENTION! ATTENTION!

IUDEX OF FONTAINE LEFT STRANDED BY FORMER WIFE! ARE YOU WONDERING WHY WE THINK THIS MARRIAGE WAS DOOMED TO FAIL FROM THE START? GO FIND OUT IN THE NEW ISSUE OF THE STEAMBIRD. ©this article was written and published by journalist charlotte, do not plagiarize under any circumstances

up to the minute he was able to calm himself down, until imagining the wildfire of emotions an article like that would cause in fontaine.

all the unpleasant hours of arguing with you, even attempting to understand each other without actually coming to a conclusion on how to navigate a situation like that. aside from wanting to keep it all hidden from the outside world, leave it concealed and let the people of fontaine forget about the fact that you two had been married in the first place.

who cares, right? who gives a damn if it's husband or ex husband now? what even was the difference between a wife and an ex wife, you see that it's all the same?

ugh, who was he fooling besides himself.

the whole 'ex-wife' was aggravating him to the point where it made him physically sick.

why can't he just flip a switch and everything goes back to normal like it never happened in the first place. neuvillette wanted his normal life back, the normal life he thought you both loved and would continue to live on until your dying days.

in the end, neuvillette saw no other route around it other than to quit using it all together, maybe stop talking about you entirely.

by all means, it's not like he will talk to anybody about the divorce, maybe besides you when he has to mention it. granted that he might not talk to you about it either, because he wasn't allowed to see you right now, neither were you allowed to see him.

on how it came to that point was genuinely understandable.

after the divorce was finalized, new adjustments had to be made regarding your previous living situations, shared income and the future possibility of seeing each other.

as was anticipated, before he was able to say anything or make suggestions, you had already started to list out a couple of "important rules" that you made up, you called them rules but in the iudex mind he called them pesky little regulations.

regardless of his distaste for them, he wrote them down on a piece of paper as to not aggravate you.

well, he found it a bit bizarre, but neuvillette thought it must be a serious requirement at this point. it was his first divorce so how was he supposed to know how to navigate through one? it wasn't supposed to be easy, that's what he knew, it's very heart breaking and draining his life force.

although funnily enough, his overwhelm strengthens after you waltzed over the fourth rule of the day. that's one rule too much in his opinion.

just how many were there?

"i can't think of a better solution," you state whilst leaning your body against his desk, always facing the ground, you wouldn't want to lock gazes with him during such difficult time.

"we may even be able to talk again in the future, you know,"

but did you really want to?

it's safe to say that neuvillette would want to keep in contact, but it's certain that this would not only stress you both out in the long run, possible new partners could also get weirded out by the fact that you two were still talking and they may become jealous.

neuvillette stifles a groan, scribbling down the second rule that left your mouth before absorbing the letters on the piece of paper, "it's for the best if we keep a distance,"

to say like that was a punch in the gut would be an understatement, despite the fact that you proposed the idea in the first place.

alas and without any of you knowing before setting out those four simple rules, now— weeks after, you had found yourself in a position that made it near impossible to keep a distance from each other, or at least make eye contact in a social gathering.

for you, it has become your life in a literal sense to comb through this difficulty, for neuvillette, the possibility of seeing you in the future would secure his sanity and keep him from turning as mad as a hatter.

patience. the incurable truth was patience.

this afternoon, you have to talk for at least five minutes, with a window consisting of a maximum of ten minutes if one of you talked slowly— it's not like you want to see him, but you have to visit your ex husbands office to sign a paper regarding your previously shared finances and then you're good to go for the day again, you can leisurely exit his office and leave this failed relationship behind, exactly where it belonged in the first place, deeply stored in the past.

previously during the negotiations, neuvillette was quite persistent in leaving you the house which was located a little outside of fontaine. he was in no need of it anymore and wanted you to have it, without payments required.

between us two, it's quite obvious he wanted to get rid of it.

but so did you.

you didn't want to stay there, not now, not ever, you wouldn't sign that damned paper even if the god of contracts suddenly came knocking on your door and force you to.

all the memories in that house would eventually eat you up, they'd definitely destroy you, the gnawing grief would certainly keep you awake at night.

originally after telling your ex husband that you didn't want the house, he was able to find you a flat in the city— it's small but cute, and it had everything you needed. a cozy bedroom, a kitchen that was big enough to dance in while you're preparing dinner and an area where you can set up an office for yourself.

how convenient it was that you were previously married to the person that is in charge of fontaine.

aside from that and the fact that you were practically making neuvillette handle the most difficult parts of this— you realize how a sudden guilt was stored on your shoulders, you could barely face him after that.

the parts he needed to handle included, but were not limited to,  well, a problem slightly more irritating since it was about his life, turning approximately a hundred other problems he deals with on a daily a whole lot easier.

most of the legal process was handled by him, and only him for that matter, meaning that he had to spend additional hours on it and was barely able to move on with his life after losing you.

unlike you did.

well frankly, it's only been a couple of weeks, a month at best since you've last seen him— although it has been much longer since you've last felt him.

there really wasn't a lot going on in your life after breaking things off, it's always a grueling whirlwind of;

waking up, heading to work, walking home, eating, sleeping, repeat.

most significantly, your new bed felt a bit hard as well, it's uncomfortable and drove you insane.

you missed the one you had previously shared with neuvillette— wether it was because of the way it felt underneath you or because of its much better quality.

perhaps it was also that in the past, you had the chance of leaning against a warm body whenever you were freezing— the secret on why you found your new bed worse in comparison to your old one would certainly remain a secret forever.

it can never be answered, because you do not even know the answer yourself.

it's frequent and happens all the time— when you suddenly begin to wonder late in the evening if this was the right decision after all.

then again, a divorce wasn't necessarily something you would just forget from one day to the other— aside from that, there was a reason it happened, considering the countless events of arguing and the inability of you both to find a solid middle ground.

when you notice that a relationship drains the life out of you, or makes you cry your heart out late at night, a decision has to be made eventually, especially before it would turn your love into resentment or make your respect for the other person dwindle away.

was it really that surprising that you had your doubts?

when it comes down to it, neuvillette wasn't a bad man and you would never speak poorly of him. he was everything else but bad, which reminds you of the reason you had fallen in love with him.

but in earlier days, he had a reflection less of the way he was than of the way he wanted you to see him.

it was challenging for neuvillette to open up to you.

but hell, you're certain you won't be able to find someone who'd ever make you as happy as he did, bring you sweet tummy aches when he makes you laugh all night, or be there for you when you're sick and unable to take care of yourself.

you shake your head in embarrassment, your cheeks aflame as you're drawing several deep, steadying breaths— perhaps that's just how you're supposed to think right now.

it's not real, it cannot be.

right now, you feel like you should've never broken it off, but this marriage had been on death's door for months before the decision was finally formed— albeit from afar, no one had ever suspected anything and you're quite proud of that, in fact, both of you made sure no one would notice too much of what had been going on behind closed doors— like good spouses should always protect each other.

among other things, taking into consideration just how important his work and image was, the last outcome you wanted was for your ex husband to endure dreadful gossips about him.

neuvillette did not deserve a single negative word against him, this man deserved nothing but the finest life for himself— furthermore, after spending yet another night without sleep and thinking about your ex husband, you believed that the best for him just wasn't you.

it never has been.

RULE NUMBER 2: NEVER SHOW UP TO EACH OTHERS HOME OR WORK, NOT EVEN ON EMERGENCIES, ESPECIALLY NOT IF YOU MISS EACH OTHER

it's a little clumsy when you first enter his office, accompanied by an unnerving type of awkwardness outstretching across the room as neuvillette meets your eyes right away— but his head drops after around two seconds and he puffs out a wretched sigh, sounding as if he's about to cry.

neuvillette thought that this should've been way easier— but before you, he has never felt real love like yours before, and he was quite certain that this type of love only happens once in life.

the melusines were also happy to see you, and you could tell that they were equally as confused as you were— they probably did not realize what was going on and nor did you really want them to know.

given that their love and admiration for neuvillette was bottomless and you wouldn't want them to suddenly harbor a disdain for you.

nevertheless, when you listened to what they were whispering about behind your back, they were talking about how you must've been away for travel or desperately needed a vacation from fontaine, or one even mentioned that you might've been sick— considering how dead and empty your eyes looked those past weeks.

then there's the "being busy with work". ah well, the excuses were surely endless and somewhat amusing, you know you're not taking care of yourself when every second a melusine talks about how tired you looked and if you needed a glass of water.

everything but a divorce was being spoken about, at least you managed to hide that well.

your gaze lifts to meet his own again when neuvillette stands up from his desk and looks at you from the opposite side of the table.

under further examination of your facial expression, he notices the slight discomfort that buzzes underneath your skin, especially around your eyes and how you could barely look at him for more than five seconds.

beneath the familiar emotion of being in the same room as him, the sharp bite of his aftershave slips down the back of your throat when you suck in a sharp, choked breath, tensing like a tree at each step forward.

why do you look like you haven't slept for days?

it cannot be, right? but he was paying attention to certain details, either relevant or not he notices how you're looking around without focus, or shift the weight of your body from left foot to right foot.

and well, his supernatural senses were sharp, immediately picking up on your heart pounding against your ribs as if trying to fulfill a thousand beats.

his fingers twitch slightly with the document in his hand as he remains in his position, waiting for you to come closer.

"this couch doesn't seem very comfortable for sleep," you point to the sofa in his office, in an attempt to break the awkward tension, your chin forwarding to the left where a neatly put blanket and a small pillow sat on top of the furniture.

just how many nights has he spent here? did he even sleep in the first place? was he taking care of himself and should you worry?

it's safe to say that his work shouldn't be in danger, but it really is killing you that you cannot ask without coming across like a desperate ex, and you're fully aware that it would also go against your rules.

but neuvillette has always taken his important occupation very serious, sometimes even to the point where he forgot about his own marriage and his wife waiting for him at home with freshly made dinner served and his most favorite beverage awaiting him on a beautifully set up table and— yikes, that escalated quickly.

you're beginning to remember one of the reasons as to why this marriage failed.

"i hope you do not mind if i ask," neuvillette stifles a groan, "but are you mentioning this out of curiosity or are you speaking down on my new sleeping area?" the hint of sarcasm in his voice was unmistakable, the underlying scorn making you wince.

and oh, "sleeping area" was a big statement for that little excuse of a couch, you're very much aware that he can barely fit all of him on it and always had troubles finding a comfortable spot when he fucked— uh, well, when you did things to each other there.

yes, you already know how it felt on there, and who could possibly know of the plentiful times you had been intimate with each other on that couch.

wait a minute, was that the reason? was he already having a rebound this soon after your divorce?

no, it cannot be.

not your neuvillette, hold on, scrap that and reverse, he wasn't your neuvillette anymore.

it's stinging and like pins and needles on your heart when you think about neuvillette fucking someone on the exact same place he made love to you— leading to the conclusion that simply looking at the couch made you sick to your stomach, instantly setting off another unpleasant lurch of nausea yet you could still muster enough strength to fix yourself for the sake of this conversation.

he wouldn't dare, okay, this is the last time you're discussing this with yourself;

what if he wanted you to see this, tell you that:

hey, look at me! i am so happy without you stupid witch, and i already have a new partner too, isn't that nice for me? there really is no need for you to be worried about me, so please sign this document and exit my office.

because i am getting my dick sucked every single day!

your heart beat turns feverish in your chest, and you quickly snap your head towards the direction of your ex husband, "isn't it obvious that i was just trying to make conversation with you?" you retort back, swatting away the dust lingering on your clothes while simultaneously coughing out in an awkward manner.

"although i really cannot imagine that this couch is somewhat comfortable to sleep on."

"i believe you must still remember on how it felt laying there yourself,"

yikes, what a great comeback from him, and he didn't mean to say it like he's spitting venom into your mouth, it's almost like he wanted to tell you that it's your loss you cannot make yourself comfortable on here, even though he wouldn't mind bending you on all fours again like he did last— okay, that's enough.

there was a half-visible smirk on his face that aggravated you, the absolute last expression you were expecting to see from him.

you roll your eyes, "trust me, i don't want to," you reply, pinching your eyebrows together while assessing your distaste of his answer.

just when did an innocent question about a dusty, old couch turn into— whatever that conversation was about.

RULE NUMBER 3: DO NOT ASK INTIMATE QUESTIONS ABOUT EACH OTHERS PRIVATE LIFE

no, stop it, that doesn't seem right, neuvillette shouldn't treat you this way.

right now, he was experiencing his worst nightmare and the previous gears of sadness grind to a halt upon perceiving another emotion— one, that certainly scared him.

whatever the case, he wouldn't repeat his mistake, accepting any destiny the universe would bestow on him as he silently promises himself to stop any anger from slipping past the tip of his tongue.

pressing your lips together, you dig your heels into the ground, "okay, forget it, i don't have a lot of time," an unexpected force of confidence pushes you forward until you could feel the wooden desk graze across your thighs, you're so close now and the only thing keeping your bodies apart was the desk in between.

your mind was repeatedly screaming at your frame to stop moving before you actually did, "i have to be somewhere in, uh, about a couple hours, so lets finish this quickly."

what a sweet and pretty liar that you were, terribly aware that the only thing waiting for you tonight was your bed.

what a sad image, but he must not know!

"oh?" neuvillette mutters bitterly, a nervous rasp roughening his voice.

"a date, i assume?"

you would have gasped if you had any breath to spare, because you did not think this would actually work in a million years.

"ah, ah, ah," you note in a triumphant colored tone, happily waving your pointer finger from left to right.

"this, dear iudex, goes against rule number three."

content, neuvillette resumes to the document in his hand before placing it in the middle of the desk, sucking in a short, harsh breath, eyes deepening down south, just any area that wasn't you,

"of course, my apologies,"  his tone was thick, sickly sweet with barely cloaked amusement.

now he knows you're lying— he knows you so well it's almost embarrassing.

"this, is why you came for, right?"

you fumble a blistering retort that died with the hard press of teeth against your tongue, "mhm," you murmur in a low, rich tone, his casual unbothered spirit was dangerously convincing.

oh well, he must have gotten it right— and ah, you were remarkably stubborn too, resisting even the most innocent type of help coming from him as you take a random pen laying across the other side of the desk instead of the one in neuvillette's hand.

your eyes slowly scatter over the document, your brain struggling to put together the authoritative choice of words displayed in front of you.

"please elaborate on that," you press a finger on a significantly befuddling paragraph.

neuvillette muses agreeably before slanting against the desk to see for himself— and when he did you got a real good taste of his perfume suddenly invading your nostrils, playing devils advocate when you flinch back a little.

"do not worry yourself about this," his answer came so quickly you barely caught it, spelled out without a flutter of hesitation.

"everything is accounted for," he adds gently, you only need to put your name, there,"

your once-vulnerable eyes now squint stormily, "that smart mouth of yours surely has been busy, i can tell," as you place the pen on the desk before dropping both arms to your side— the man before you narrowed speechless, burning his eyes through your smug face.

"oh, just how many tricks did you pick up on your way here?" he replies sternly, accentuating the "here" as to remind you on where you currently were— as if that would somehow make him look threatening, you have been in his office plenty of times before, both naked and fully clothed, so neuvillette surely must search for another way to dominate this conversation.

priding himself in front of you with his position as iudex certainly wouldn't work on his ex wife.

"why?" you retort, "you like it?"

"indeed i do, or is that what you want me say, i assume?"

"no," a soft sigh above you echoes your own, "but i do find it weird that you'd want me to sign something without explaining it to me,"

"i did explain it to you multiple times, in fact, last time we saw each other i even asked you if you understood what i was referring to,"

an instinctive flutter of frustration, anger and exhaustion slips down his throat, "and if i recollect my memories," he coughs out and walks around his desk, so that nothing was in between you anymore.

"—you have said your time was limited." the radiating dominance of his body momentarily presses your back against the table, trapping you in the middle, caging between a wooden desk and your ex lover.

"that was weeks ago," you pause, "it's normal for most people to want a quick run through on a document of this importance,"

"it's normal?"

"it's normal," you reaffirm.

"how interesting indeed. i will keep that in mind," 

you lean your weight against the desk as to keep the eye contact with him in an attempt to stand your round, and the two of you have since lost the original purpose of this meeting.

"how could you possibly forget that?"

your voices flap over in an unmusical tune when neuvillette attempts to reply to you, although your tone was far louder than his. 

there was an awkward moment of silence that was practically slicing the air within your bodies and it's unusual on just how strong the tension had gotten in a span of two minutes. not to mention that he was so close— you honestly preferred it when his desk was keeping you both apart.

it was hard to remember anything and keep a rational mind, neuvillette realized that and found himself deeply saddened on how quick this meeting went out of hand and turned to this.

but a whispered sentence reaches your hearing and immediately calms you into a warm, relaxing state, "i apologise," he speaks finally and it surprises you, a nervous rasp shaking his voice,

"i shouldn't have talked to you in such disrespectful manner,"

your eyes widen, "no," and your cheeks grow hot with deep embarrassment, "it's really my fault, i need to apologize to you," as you force out a shaky laugh in an attempt to lighten up the mood.

"don't," neuvillette retorts back, contemplating wether he should or not but lastly deciding to rest a hand over your shoulder before he squeezes it, a smile manifesting on his lips— and it was otherworldly radiant, illuminating his complete face with deep warmth and joy.

"i always loved that witty side of yours."

he doesn't say anything for a moment, in fact, neither of you do— and the feeling of him touching you again after weeks of spending apart from each other, and despite it being just his palm on your shoulder, was instantly turning your knees into jelly.

the minute of silence felt like twenty years as neuvillette straightens his body upright, drawing a more serious touch along your shoulder before moving his palm from your collarbone until curving his hand along your cheek, holding your gaze through bright, gemstone-like eyes.

he must be crazy, he thinks— because right now, he's going against everything he has promised himself not to do, and everything you have told him not to do as well. but fuck, he hasn't touched you like this in so long, the last time was long before your divorce, and the helpless intensity of his desire horrified him.

it's when neuvillette suddenly realizes that he has never stopped loving you— not even for a minute, nor a searing second.

it was impossible to stop loving you.

"it's just that i…" your voice grows softer and quieter the more you attempt to speak and your heart thuds feverishly in your chest that you're pretty much aware he must notice it too, "everything feels terrible," you admit hesitantly and flutter your eyes up at him, your gaze fanning over the soft pink across his facial features. 

neuvillette begins to move his thumb across your cheek, "please forgive me for failing us," he whispers weakly, on the brink of tears, "for failing the only thing that made life worth living," his throat adds a slightly hoarse perception to his tone.

your eyes widen as you attempt to drop your head if not for neuvillette holding your cheek in his palm as a whirlwind of crystallines well up in your eyes, sousing your lashes.

your mind was gone, but suddenly you can think more clear— and you're not depending on the damaging daze that was originally controlling your body's autopilot feature— the grueling circle of work, sleep, repeat.

you sniffle between words, "no!" and helplessly slant into his chest as to bury your face in the fabric of his garments, "it's my fault, not yours!" continuing to cry and wail and sob your heart out.

"please don't hate me! don't resent me!"

being able to finally let go of all those stored emotions in your heart felt utterly freeing, as if an unbearable weight was lifted off your chest.

how did you two even end up in this situation? can someone, just anyone, make this agony for the both of you stop?

neuvillette shushes your cries with a soft shhh, folding his arms around your waist before smoothing one hand across your back. he decides to rest his head on top of yours, his warm breath fanning against your hair as you return his hug, pulling him deeper into you.

"i could never hate you," neuvillette sighs, "it's because i have never stopped loving you," before putting on weight around his embrace on you— perhaps as to prepare himself, because he was sure you were about to smack him due to what he just bluntly admitted to you.

while he knows it was certainly deserved as well, no excuse would make this proclamation easier even in the slightest.

but he doesn't regret it, it's over now. he just wanted to get this off his chest even if you'd most likely break off any remaining contact to him— although now he realizes that you've given him so much and he won't let you go again, not before repeatedly telling you that he loves you, loves you, loves you.

despite him believing that his efforts went to waste.

to his surprise, you did not hit him, nor did you yell at him or ask if he's hit his head somewhere— instead, you slowly move yourself from his chest, a saddened gaze meeting his own as a single tear falls from your eye.

your answer dwells a moment before you push it out, "i love you too," and whisper, "i love you so much," before you're peering at him with an expression he couldn't begin to decipher— for what's obvious, it's pure and selfless, a startled hum immediately following the last syllable that leaves your mouth when neuvillette suddenly slants his head forward to feel your lips.

RULE NUMBER 4: DO NOT FUCK UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, PLEASE JUST DON'T DO IT, SNAP OUT OF IT, DO NOT EVEN THINK ABOUT SEX WHILE BEING IN THE SAME ROOM TOGETHER

by all means, this wasn't supposed to happen— hell, you don't even know how you got here.

but his eyes were enticing as they meet your gaze, a deep source of exuberance affecting your delirium and when he leans into you to kiss your lips, his soft lashes clash against your skin, his traces subtle enough to make you feel a faint tingle shiver downwards your heat.

against all odds, neuvillette was terrible at making this any easier for the two of you, no matter how hard you tried to pull away after the third, fourth or fifth kiss, there was no way of ending this and his tongue made sure to clash against yours at each lap— this passion, it had no resistance, it will always find a way to flourish.

nothing more, nothing less, and you've got the iudex right under a fucking spell because even when his life felt depressing after you left him, when he was living through all those weeks and tried to navigate through this divorce— now, his heart had suddenly begun to beat again, although neuvillette knew that this would go against the fourth, and most important rule you had set up.

but he cannot stop.

blood racing, nerves alight, he pushes you against the desk and helps you to get on top of it.

you wanted him to pleasure you, needed him to use his hands and devour those pretty lips of yours— whine as his mouth carvs in a smirk, so excited and sooth as silk when you wrap your arms around his neck to push his frame against your chest, so he could easily rest his entire weight on top of your own.

"you're gorgeous," he coos, "so utterly breathtaking," the thought of you craving his attention to that level was flooding him with pride, it made his skin crawl with a thousand thunderous vibrations that hit the bulge in his pants, your wet kisses and hot traces fueling the withdrawals of your soul on his skin.

the dizziest groan touches your glossed lips— and neuvillette flips over your skirt to expose your drenched panties to his hungry stare, his eyes instantly hard with lust and love, every measure of his yearning openly shown as his cock twitches uncomfortably in his clinging pants. 

you moan a dreamy sigh when the freezing office air hits your most sensitive parts, the tone leaving your lips high-pitched and desperate to feel more of him. in response, you earn a rough groan from neuvillette as he discards of his belt, dopamine shaking his soul alive, manifesting ruthlessly and tempting as you hug him tight, your erected nipples crushing against his strong chest.

you kiss along his neck with tenderness and feel the intense force of redness on his flustered cheeks, your tongue swift to blend over the quivering skin as you lash fiercely at the outline of his jaw between sharp flares of teeth tickling his face— his bewitching expression being held captive by your hand gripping his jaw hard enough to pull him towards you.

unwinding with relief, neuvillette manages to pull his tight slacks off, sighing as he drew out his hard cock and aching balls— instantly taking himself in his palm before fisting it slow in front of your hole. a thrum of arousal around the slit of his tip intensifies his need to crowd you with his shaft, and he gracefully strokes himself until you wrap your fingers around his wrist as to stop him for a second.

"i want you to make love to me," you mumble impatiently, "it's been so long," and neuvillette follows your lead in a flash and a quick nod of his head, making sure that you're sitting all comfortable on the desk and that you wouldn't hurt yourself with a random utensil on the table before he urges you to wrap your legs around his waist, your thighs squeezing his hips close.

"everything you say, i do," neuvillette reassures you, "forever,"

your broken moans and bulging eyes excite him, not to mention when you refuse to let go of him. of course, who knows what will happen after desire subsides and you're both thinking rationally again, after all, you do trust him with your life, but you're still divorced and sure you would look stunning on your second wedding with him, he would very much prefer to marry you right after fucking the broad daylight out of your figure.

gently clutching at your clothes, neuvillette slowly lifts up the fabric until you're wholly exposed for him to feast on, at last working your panties down your legs as they hit the ground, a coy smile spreading across his lips— your naked body was prancing in front of him, reminding him on how gorgeous you were, especially now as your lips hang apart and your lewd whines spill from the tip of your tongue.

your pretty nipples were erected as well, laying a familiar caress up his spine when you grind your chest against his chiseled one, encircling the exposed skin until it comes to meet in front.

"just look at you," he mutters proudly, almost to himself, his cheeks flushed as he ducks his head to hide the beginnings of a pleased smile when he kisses your shoulder. the praises set your blood raising, pumping a hotness into your pussy as you moan out his name in sweet tandem, feeling the slight trace of his cock-head shadowing your hole.

you will do so well tonight, neuvillette thinks to himself, and before he helps you keep your legs parted, he teases your entrance with a half-hearted push of his cock. you want him closer and carry on to search for his entire weight on top of you as his dripping dick slides past the tight edges of your hole, your pussy throbbing as it began to hurt a little— just a bit, and it's important to note that you weren't used to this anymore, used to him, and it's because all the pheromones are currently leaving your body that it was worth having a slight pain come by.

because you knew neuvillette will do anything in his power to make it hurt as little as possible— so you could enjoy his erection painting your walls white as you moan avidly, your pussy rubbing deliciously on him, his hand continuously massaging the delicious, soft skin of your thighs and ass.

you breathe a shaky sigh of relief when he snakes himself half-way in, a gentle breeze of your whimpers scatter across the room as neuvillette continues to push inch after inch of himself into you, your body relaxing underneath his much bigger one as you welcome him, beautiful moans and whimpers spilling from the back of your throat.

oh, how much you missed sucking in his cock like your life depended on it— and whatever issues would arise after this sinful encounter, neither of you was giving an inch of mind to those future concerns.

"there you go, that's what you need," neuvillette grunts, tensing his jaw and limiting his breathing because fuck, how are you still so fucking tight— in any other case, he would never skip foreplay with you, knowing that his size tends to be too big for your pussy, sometimes offering you help in spreading your puffy cunt apart— but he is aware that you're extra wet today, he notices how much easier it was to slide himself through your walls and collect your slick.

a slightest raw edge of desperation made his groan sound almost like a plea when your pussy clamps down on his shaft, and neuvillette moans softly as he bows down to trap your lips against his own, sliding down his tongue and lapping at yours, wet and slow, wet and slow, a low hiss of pleasure accentuating his skilled ministrations.

your pussy squeezes him gently and wets him thoroughly so that his flushed cock glistens in your walls as neuvillette allows himself to nuzzle his face against your neck, humming appreciatively when he began to move his hips, drinking in the light tears that swell in the corners of your eyes as he kisses them away.

everything was so filthy, just like that, and you're back to square one again— it's lewd enough to make his cock throb heavily between your legs when he picks up on his shallow tempo, warm and viscous grinds of his thick cock pounding you in two, wild and passionate burning through your sore hole and matching the rhythm of your hips that were catching his shoves halfway.

fuck, you missed his cock filling you up, shaking at the added stimulation when one hand squeezes your tits— not to mention how heavy it felt to have him deep in your guts again, his slicked erection pawing through your walls and searching for your pleasure spots, until you're practically writhing of overstimulation, most importantly releasing the stress you endured those past weeks.

somehow, everything felt more intense tonight— ecstatic and as if you're drugged of his cock, like you broke off the connection from clear reality each moment his tip inches down the searing spots in your cunt— your screams muffled by his strong shoulder which resulted in your noises coming out in weak cries and sobs.

"i'm— i'm so close." it's the way you said it, the way you wanted him to hear you.

neuvillette glances down on you, "yeah?" he cannot hold back anymore, your walls were too hot and too tight, his thudding erection cornering your bruised pussy as his cheeks turn cherry red— the tip of his ears shading the same color, "will never let you go again..." the following sentence comes from under his breath, a strong utterance, holding graven significance as it ignites flames deep within the pits of your core.

it's so unbelievably sexy when you tell him that he's about to make you cum, and the repeated proclamations of love were aiding your orgasm in unraveling much more intense— neuvillette parts his lips before pinching your nipples in between his digits, never faltering nor losing the steady streams of thrusts on your sex, paying no mind to your minor struggle of keeping his thick member within your sloppy hole.

the moans you sob are bringing him such satisfaction as well, particularly the ones of his name made him swallow down the assembling saliva in his mouth, leaving small kisses against your face as his adams apple bobs harshly against his throat when he grinds his hips into your heat— your slick seeping out at the corners of your hole as your beautiful legs hover over his waist to get into that ideal position.

he cups your pretty face without stopping the shallow tempo on your cunt, "i.. want you to look at me," his rhythm becoming blistering and rapid— it almost pains him to hold himself back, or the desire to cum but wanting to make you climax first. it's like his shaft runs through satin, pressing back and forth the finest silk but it's your pussy instead, so soft and taking his shape, you're made for him and he'll never let you forget.

even though he could hardly breathe because of how achingly hard he was, caged within the tight embrace of your walls as tears spring to his eyes, slip down his flaming cheeks, being wild and free and finally one with you again— in addition to the exciting sounds of wet noises of skin clashing on skin providing the last bonus puzzle pieces to make you spiral out of complete control.

a static crushes as if underwater in your ears— and neuvillette rolls his hips fast and hard, purring deeply when your legs wrap and urge him to penetrate you further. the pleasure buried in you was coiling from the base of your spine and found the candid bubble in your belly before snapping into a million pieces— your gorgeous noises finding his ears as he fucks you faster, yanking his head back and clenching his jaw as you came apart together, moaning into each others mouths and welcoming your orgasm with melting, soothing moans.

you shake your head and bury yourself into his warm embrace, earning you a smile you cannot even see when your thighs shake around his waist as he continues to pump his seed into you, the warm covers of milky whites prolonging your orgasm and intensifying it to a tenfold.

just in time too, his hot gift soothes the soreness on your walls as neuvillette deafens your body with a post-orgasm sensitivity that catches you in a trance, his cock still buried inside and never leaving your tight hole as you work to somehow get a hold of your breath again, letting you ease the stress he senses from you.

the stone-hard desk underneath you was bruising and uncomfortable, but it's bearable when you nuzzle yourself into your ex lover, or, well— current lover? soon to be fiance again?

"do not worry your pretty head," his hand lovingly brushes over your head as you fuse into his trace, "i will take care of everything," as he's allowing you to indulge in the intimate atmosphere you have missed so dearly, "i could marry you right this second, wherever you want," and with that sort of enthusiasm, you hold in every passing word with love, knowing that whatever the case— neuvillette and you will figure out a way, but you'll do it together, as a team.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[madelynraemunson]

pass the salt • e.m. smut

DAD’S BEST FRIEND!OLDER!EDDIE x FEM!READER

summary: you’re home from college and staying with your dad for the summer, spending as much time as you possibly can with him…and his hot best friend that you’ve never seen in your life.

authors note: okay have you guys ever seen those text posts like “when you say ‘daddy pass the salt please’ and your father and your man both reach for it” 💀💀 well this is inspired by that concept. also i went overboard and this is a LONG BOI

disclaimers — photo credits to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple 🫶🏼porn with plot, reader’s nickname is “sunshine”, reader has female anatomy, race unspecified, divider: @iluvpooks

NSFW — 18+ obv, porn with plot, daddy kink pls keep scrolling if it’s not ur thing, slight age gap (eddie is mid to late 30s, reader is in her early 20s), corruption kink, size kink, masturbation (m&f), p in v sex (protected), dirty talk, teasing, sexual innuendos, extreme flirting, eddie kinda being a perv, praise kink

The sound of breakfast on the griddle summons you downstairs.

Dad never cooks.

For as long as you can remember, weekends at your dad’s have always consisted of Lucky Charms cereal and powdered donuts. That tradition continued even after you started college.

Oh yeah. Someone is here, alright. Someone Dad desperately wants to impress.

Trailing after the commotion, your fuzzy pink slippers guide you down the wooden steps of your dad’s ‘bachelor pad’ and into the kitchen. And when you near the bottom of the steps, you can make out two distinct voices — one belonging to Dad, another belonging to someone who's identity is obscure.

“God, I fucking missed you, Jeff. Missed everyone so much.”

The smells of pancake batter, cigarette smoke, mint, and petroleum fuel reel you in, but not nearly as much as the sight of the man sitting on the opposite side of your dad. He's built, handsome with wavy brown hair, leather, black denim, twiddling a toothpick between his teeth as he listens to your dad speak with a smile on his face. That is, until you come into sight. It then that his intense focus circles in on you.

Funny. You don’t remember this friend. And something in your gut tells you that you won’t ever be forgetting him after this.

The stranger's grin curls into a wonder-filled smirk. You can feel your knees start to buckle.

“Uh oh. Looks like our shenanigans woke up Sleeping Beauty.”

When you get a closer look at Dad’s friend, you observe his faint brown beard — neatly kept and lightly peppered with some gray — delicious lips, shiny white teeth, and grooves along his laugh lines that would deepen with every theatrical cackle he belted out.

You can't help but freeze in your tracks as him and your dad continue on with their banter, reliving their glory days like it was yesterday. Man. What a damn dreamboat.

Your dad’s eyes light up with glee when he sees you.

“Hey, good morning, Sunshine!” Dad cheers. “Thought you’d never wake up. This is my friend Eddie. We were in that band together in high school. Come say hi.”

"Yeah, come say hi," Eddie agrees. feeding into the obvious tension in the room. "I don't bite."

The stranger laughs at his own comment as soon as he utters it.

There’s a charm — a magic — about Eddie that could only be found in Hollywood or the Big City. But of course, you didn't expect any less from Dad's supposed ‘Rockstar Friend’.

When your parents had you at 17, life went on for Dad’s band Corroded Coffin. And although he missed out on the ‘Sex, Drugs, and Rock&Roll’, Dad insists that tea parties and white picket fences were an ideal trade-off. Because — despite how things ended with Mom — it still meant a life spent with you.

You tell him your name as Eddie offers you his hand to shake. Electricity serges through you when your hand is enveloped by his firm, calloused one. Eddie smiles down at you, his presence all-consuming. It's almost as if he knows it. And as much as you were dying to, you resist the urge to fall into him.

Eddie's no better.

It takes everything in Eddie's power to keep his eyes above your collarbones, reprimanding himself with the utmost tedium. Because heaven knows he'd be TOAST if his best friend found out that Eddie thought that you were absolutely stunning — strutting around the house the way that you do, without a bra underneath that poor excuse of a sleep shirt — a sleep shirt far too tight for your own good. With tight, pajama shorts to match…

Of course, this is all an assumption…Not that he caught wind of it or anything.

“You know…” he mentions. “Your dad has told me SO much about little miss Sunshine.”

“Me, really?” is all you can say behind those fuscia cheeks.

“Really,” Eddie insists. “He never shuts up about you, darling.”

“Hopefully you’ve only heard good things,” you mutter faintly.

And instantly, your dad and Eddie share a laugh.

“Only good things,” Eddie assures you. He nudges your dad playfully.

Your dad doesn’t exactly deny the last part, basically confirming to Eddie that you’ve got a hint of spunk to you. The heat settles at your cheeks as you shy away from your father’s curious friend.

Taking note of how timid you’ve just become, Eddie furrows his brows.

“What — was that an implication that you’re not always good?”

“No comment,” your smile melts into an awkward one.

“Kept me on my toes back then,” your dad reflects with a sigh. “Keeps me on my toes now.”

“You don’t say…” Eddie smirks slightly, gaze panning back over to you.

Eventually your dad leaves you two alone, going into the garage to fetch something that he insists Eddie would like. But little did he know that such thing was already in the room, leaning…reaching into the fridge for some orange juice, not realizing its atmosphere caused your nipples to harden.

Eddie’s eyes proceed to follow you as you strut back to the griddle, flipping some hot cakes over before tending to your messy bedhead.

Eddie probably doesn’t know — or maybe he does, who knows? — that you feel him staring at you. It’s a burning gaze that practically impales you, but you’re too nervous to say anything. You’re better off pretending like it’s something you don’t notice.

You and Eddie continue to help yourselves to breakfast, enjoying the company of each other and your mutual silence. That is, until Eddie speaks up.

“Got some sausage for you if you’d like.”

“I’m sorry?” you sputter, looking up from your food.

Eddie shoots you a weird glance as he holds up some breakfast franks.

“Sausage?” he repeats. “Store was out of beef so I settled for turkey. Hope that’s not a problem.”

“Not at all,” you clear your throat. “I love turkey sausage.”

“Okay, good,” Eddie chuckles, seemingly relieved at how quickly the situation had diffused.

“Cool,” you chuckle with him while taking some links to cook.

The silence returns once more and is replaced by the sizzling of the grill. It’s short lived, however, because soon, the man nearly twice your age speaks again.

“What’d you think I said?” Eddie circles back.

“Nothing, why?”

“You just looked stunned.”

“I just woke up,” you shrug. “My mind’s somewhere else.”

“I can tell,” he smirks. “Get that thing out of the gutter.”

The coming days paved way for some more innocent flirting.

…Like when you make sure to wear the shortest skirt in your closet when running Eddie his afternoon beer in the garage.

“Well don’t you look absolutely darling…” he says as he peers up from his guitar.

“Hehe,” you smirk connivingly. “Thank you!”

“You are so welcome.”

Eddie downs the liquid guilt along with his pride, watching you strut around…the hem of that pleated cotton fabric just barely covering the roundness of your asscheeks. And as you blush a rosy pink when you process his little remarks, Eddie can only clear his throat in arousal, fantasizing about just how badly he wanted to turn your other cheeks that very shade.

…Or when you come downstairs the next day to help Dad manually wash his car.

While he and Eddie are harassing each other with soap and that god-forsaken hose, you decide to join in on all the fun.

“Watch out, Sunshine,” Eddie forewarns. “You’ve just entered the splash zone!”

And with the intention of cooling you off on a hot summer day like this, Eddie teasingly sprays you with said hose, your white shirt becoming transparent when lathered with water. He could see everything. Your erect nipples. Your perky tits bouncing in the sunlight as you jump around in excitement. How glazed your oil-nnuendo’ed skin looked when glimmering in the sun. All as intended.

“You got me,” you surrender yourself to him. “You got me good, Eddie.”

And when you walk away, Eddie mutters slyly to himself.

“Yes, yes I did.”

…And then there’s dessert after dinner.

Eddie watches as you lick your popsicle, his fingers curling at his thighs in arousal as you retract the wrapper before enclosing your lips around the bright pink dessert. And he swears he’s going to blow his pants when he envisions the melted sugar shooting into your mouth with the swiftest hollowing of your cheeks, the quiet suction noise you make with your pursed lips forcing him to adjust the way he’s sitting.

…The final instance takes the cake.

“What’s your major?”

You’re in the home library grazing some of Dad’s old books and vinyls, talking to Eddie while your father gets ready for the day. Meanwhile, Eddie is perched at your dad’s desk, rolling around in his expensive swivel chair and occasionally doing some spins on it to make you laugh.

“History.”

“Sounds boring.”

“You just haven’t found a topic that interests you,” you point out.

“Mm,” is all Eddie says. “Maybe I will eventually.”

Eddie watches as you waltz around in front of him, following your movements with his eyes as you get onto your tippy-toes in order to grab some books on the top shelf.

“Oh my god!” you yelp.

Your plan to entice him seemingly fails when you graze a book that’s halfway off the shelf. It’s already flying off of its platform, headed straight towards Eddie's lap before you can even stop it.

Eddie catches it before any damage can be done, saving Dad’s old campaign book with the hand furthest from you and snaking the other around your waist to prevent you from sinking any further into him.

Phew. Crisis averted.

Your eyes meet again.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” you gasp in embarrassment. “That book has a mind of its own.”

“You’re fine,” Eddie laughs. “Can’t defy the laws of gravity. Sometimes it betrays us.”

You feel yourself burning up a fever. Excusing yourself from the room, you leave Dad’s library and make your way over to the kitchen for a glass of water.

But you’re nearly taken aback when you feel tight, calloused hands wrap around your hips, and like a feather it’s like you’re whisked away into the air, and soon your body is pressed up against the wall.

Slam!

Breathing heavily against each other now — chest to chest, lips so unbearably close you can smell the whiskey — Eddie draws you even closer to him. You both study each other intently. It’s like you’re waiting for the other to say something. Eddie does the honors and speaks first.

“I wasn’t born last night, doll. I was also your age at one point.”

———

To his own despair, Eddie touches himself later that night. Facing your room, he strokes his rock hard cock with his lotioned-up hand, running his thumb across the slit of his head, pretending it’s your tongue giving him a little tease like you did the popsicle.

“Fuuuck,” he grunts quietly. “You like when I fuck your throat, baby? Gonna suck me dry with that pretty little mouth of yours?”

You’re playing make-believe just as much. Because at the same time, in your room, you’re a drooling, pathetic mess, riding your wall-mounted toy to oblivion in your bathroom, legs trembling when the thick, veiny piece of silicone slams into the spongy part of your heat, initiating shock-waves all across your body.

“Eddie,” you find yourself blubbering. “EddieEddieEddieEddie…”

You both know it can’t be like this, but that was the mere thrill of it all. And when you both have overcome your peak, just one mere wall apart, the floodgates of guilt outweighs both your arousals the way it comes pouring in.

So, so wrong. But oh, so right.

You’re anticipating…waiting…aching for Eddie to make the next move.

He doesn’t.

“Going to the store again,” Eddie announces. “Hopefully this time they’ll have beef sausage. Need anything?”

Need you, is what you think. But you end up shaking your head, a part of you disappointed that you and Eddie won’t be able to spend some time alone together.

“No,” there’s defeat in your voice.

“Are you sure?” Eddie questions softly.

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Okay,” he gives you a grin, one in the form of a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll be right back. You be good.”

“Ha-ha,” you roll your eyes.

——

Eddie leaves the door of his room open that night. Just a smidge. You end up following the sound of his TV that he’s placed at a low volume, making out that it’s Seinfeld just by Jerry’s voice and the laugh track.

Your heart skips a beat as Eddie laughs along with the show, shaking his head at a stupid joke. But he shifts his focus immediately onto you when he sees you at the doorway.

“Having some alone time tonight?” you ask him.

“Mmm…not by choice,” he responds. “Tuckered your dad out after dinner doing P90X.”

Eddie follows a crazy workout routine. He says that it helps with his stamina, especially when he does crowd work during his stage performances. Your mind can’t help but wonder what else he may be using it for.

You snort. “Yeah. Dad wasn’t what you’d call an athlete in high school.”

Eddie laughs at that too. Both you and him know that.

He then pats the space on his bed beside him. “Wanna come watch with me?”

Your stomach does a series of cartwheels when you process Eddie’s question. You know what’s bound to happen if you follow through. And it seems Eddie knows it too. Even if there wasn’t any sexual tension between you both already, the concept of it all would rub anyone that way.

But you still follow through with it. Just like Eddie knew you would.

“You comfortable?” Eddie asks you, eyeing you endearingly as you squirm around on the bed.

“Yeah,” you breathe.

“Good…” he replies, voice nearly at a strained whisper now.

You two watch the show in silence for a few minutes, exchanging commentary and pleasantries regarding the show every so often. It’s not too long after Eddie pulls a laugh from you that he starts closing up the space between you both, scooting himself closer…and resting his gruff palm over the base of your knee.

You inhale sharply as he does so. And evident by your refusal to pull away, it’s enough of a green light for Eddie to hike up further.

A soft moan escapes your mouth from the back of your flustered throat, but you bite your lip in restraint.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"For what?”

You shrug sheepishly as Eddie continues to graze your thigh. Your breathing falters even more.

“Don’t be scared,” Eddie coos.

“I’m not,” you insist.

“Then what’s stopping you from getting on top of me? Hm?”

He’s in between your legs now, the rough material of his denim jeans riding up your sex, teasing your clit with every calculated rub against it.

“And riding my rock hard cock til those pretty legs give out?” Eddie continues. “I see how you’ve been looking at me, doll. It's all over your face how bad you want it.”

“The bed is squeaky,” you answer honestly. “And that headboard is a lost cause.”

Eddie puts the dirty talk on pause, squirming around to assess the guest bed’s squeak factor. When it checks out, he gives you an understanding nod. You giggle.

Eddie wastes no more time. You watch as he grabs one of the pillows on the bed and wedges it between the wall and headboard. He issues you a sly smile.

“Oldest trick in the book.”

You're back to fooling around shortly after, your aching core burning with lust as you pine for him.

“The boys at school ever touch you this good?” Eddie quips rubbing circles around your puffy, needy folds as you hopelessly cling to him out of pleasure.

“No, Eddie.”

“Didn’t think so.”

He continues to tease, gliding his fingers along your slit before slowly inserting two large digits inside of you.

His calculated pumps into your needy pussy are steady, a pace so agonizingly beautiful that it makes you squeal sweet nothings into the crook of his neck.

"Shh, baby," Eddie hushes you. "Your dad's gonna hear us. Gotta be quiet for me, mkay?"

Your hot, messy, and muffled sounds cease as Eddie soothes your quivering lips with his tender ones.

The wet sounds that ricochet and fill the room in tandem is almost enough to send him over. And Eddie is sure to communicate that… with an abrupt curving of his three thick fingers.

Fuck.

Needing him direly now, you tug helplessly at his pants.

“God, Eddie,” you whimper. “Just fuck me already. Please.”

Eddie laughs at the desperation. He hasn’t ravaged you to his fullest extent yet, and you’re already a pooling mess beside him.

“Well since you said please, sweet girl,” Eddie obliges as he starts to undress himself. “Your wish is my command."

You watch Eddie as reaches over into the bedside drawer for a fresh box of condoms. Looks like the sausage links weren't the only things he went to the store for.

“Oh.”

Eddie chuckles at your observation before shrugging. Can you really blame him? You both knew what was coming.

You watch with absolute lust as Eddie slides the piece of rubber over his long, girthy, throbbing cock. He’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever had before, and the snarky, hooded-eye smile as he watches you fawn reveals to you that he knows exactly how to use it.

"On your stomach, babygirl. Will have you all nice and pounded out just like you wanted.”

You situate yourself in prone and spread your legs for Eddie to line himself up against them. He teases his wrapped cock against the entrance of your pussy, and when his soothing countdown is over, your lips part in disposition as you accommodate his ruinous stretch.

A throaty moan spills out of the both of you the moment Eddie snaps his hips in and out of you. Meanwhile, one of his hands lays tauntingly at your stomach, so the prideful man can feel himself wriggling inside you, glazing his shaft with your slick more and more with every pump into your weak cunt.

"Fuck, Eddie... yes..." you mewl. "R-right there, Eddie, please..."

And then it picks up. You can feel Eddie’s hips practically collapse right onto you, his balls slapping against you as he digs further into your body.

"God damn..." the man sighs in disbelief.

He can only beam down at you in awe. You were taking him so good, pussy swallowing him so nice and tight. And when you nestle your ankles between each other to keep him there in prone, the nearly cries out in pleasure, but refrains because he knows your dad is resting — just a thin wall over.

That still doesn’t stop him from going to town though. Practically seeing stars, the broken record of a mouth that belongs to you chants Eddie’s name like it’s all you know. Eddie attempts to keep you contained, offering you his fingers to suck on as he’s railing you dumb.

And when he fucks you through your climax, Eddie continues with his string of lust-filled praises, satisfied at himself that he was able to make you wet enough to soak the mattress.

“Did so good for me, angel,” he praises you as he sucks at your temple. “Always knew you weren’t all that innocent.”

The griddle comes out again on Eddie’s last day. But this time, for a homestyle southern dinner.

You and Eddie were on mashed potatoes and gravy duty at the stove, an ordeal that only opened doors for lots of innuendos on Eddie’s part. Meanwhile, Dad insisted on making the rest, having taken pride in continuing his Mama’s legacy.

“This is amazing, Daddy,” you rave. “I really missed this. Do you mind passing the salt, please?”

And to your horror, you watch as your father and Eddie automatically extend their arms, bumping into one another in the process en route to getting you the salt.

The gentlemen meet each other’s eyes.

“Ohp!” Eddie exclaims, letting out a slight chuckle. “Sorry.”

You try your hardest not to blush. Eddie kicks you from under the table, and softly he oh-so-seductively he mutters,

“I was just tryna help her out.”

[sansaorgana]

— THE GIFT

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — You were born to be Feyd-Rautha's wife. You arrive to Giedi Prime to get adjusted to the new environment before your wedding. Your betrothed is trying to court you properly... but he only knows The Harkonnen ways of doing so.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — After a whole month of writing Thrown To The Wolves, I felt weird writing something with Feyd with a different Reader and a different plot. 🙈 But at the same time I was excited to explore a new scenario. 😄

WARNINGS — arranged marriage, blood, death

WORD COUNT — 3,700

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

THE GIFT

Giedi Prime was an unfriendly place – cold and colourless, nearly lifeless as well. The people you were seeing reminded you of machines more than humans. You were terrified as you realised you’d spent the rest of your life there. The Harkonnens were even worse. Rude, harsh, not very talkative. Your future husband had looked you up and down on your first day in a way that turned your blood cold.

You missed home. You missed your family. But you knew it was impossible to ever go back. You could run away – if you somehow managed to bribe the servants to help you – but it was impossible to hide from your destiny. You had been born to be Feyd-Rautha’s wife, and most importantly, to give birth to his child.

You were a daughter of an important Lord, therefore you weren’t opposed to the idea of an arranged marriage. You knew nothing else was waiting for you in this world and no one would ever let you marry a person of your choice. But why was Feyd-Rautha your betrothed? Out of all the people in the galaxy, why did you have to be promised to a Harkonnen?

Ever since you had been a little girl, your friends had been teasing you about it. Repeating the dreadful gossip about Giedi Prime and your betrothed who had become a famous and dangerous gladiator in the meantime. And now you were finding out that the gossip was not true – reality was even worse than anything you had heard and expected of this place and of this man.

You were supposed to spend three months on Giedi Prime before your wedding, away from your home and family, to adjust to the environment and the customs. Then the wedding would take its place and you’d become the na-baroness of The Harkonnens.

On your first morning you were woken up with breakfast brought to your bed by the servants.

“Why can’t I eat with my husband’s family in the dining room?” You asked them while sitting up and resting on your pillows.

The pale and bald women looked at each other significantly. Everyone looked the same here, you felt like a freak.

“Baron Harkonnen and his nephews do not eat their meals together, unless it is a special occasion, a banquet of some sort,” one of them explained. “Everyone eats their meals in their own private chambers.”

“I see,” you nodded and sighed at the sight of the food. It was as colourless as everything around. You missed the bowls of fruit and yoghurts you had been getting on your homeplanet.

After swallowing the last bit of your breakfast, you took a shower and let your new servants dress you up. The Harkonnens had requested for you to leave all your clothes and personal belongings at home. They wanted you to be as detached from your old self as possible. You were gifted a whole wardrobe of new outfits instead. All black.

You wondered if they’d ask you to shave your head, too. You dreaded that. Your hair was like an armour you could hide under. Your servants had no idea how to manage it so they left it loose. You brushed it with your fingers since there was no brush.

When you saw yourself in the mirror you thought that on your homeplanet you’d be called a feral woman. In a black, long dress, hair unkempt and dark bags under your exhausted and empty eyes that lacked any sort of emotion.

You were supposed to have classes about The Harkonnen culture. You had been studying it since you were a little girl but they did not trust your progress and they wanted to test you in a more practical sense. Your teacher was an old man with a contemptuous smirk, a close advisor of the Baron and most likely his spy.

He had been asking you questions for the past hour to which you answered perfectly well. It was becoming difficult for him to hide his surprised facial expression.

“You’ve been trained well, my Lady,” he admitted.

“This is all that has been expected of me,” you explained with a nod, your voice was hollow and emotionless as you realised how true your words had been. Your whole personality was limited to be the future Harkonnen Baroness ever since you had been a little girl. You couldn’t possibly tell what you would be like under different circumstances. You had never been given a chance to find out.

“Very well then,” he hummed to himself. “I’d like you to roam freely around the fortress and try not to get lost. Tomorrow during our class you will ask me questions about the things and places that made you curious,” he informed you and bowed down before leaving the room.

You looked around, expecting someone to fetch you but no one was coming. He had to actually mean that you were allowed to roam freely around the fortress. Carefully, you left the room and chose to turn right. You had arrived from the left side of the corridor so you were naturally more curious about the right side and exploring a brand new territory.

You were too scared to try to push any doors, though. You didn’t want to walk in on things that would possibly make someone beheading you for seeing. The occasional guards passing you by were looking at you suspiciously but they were not saying anything. After a while you stopped seeing them at all and realised you were in a dark maze of endless corridors that you had no idea how to get out of.

Trying to go back, you only ended up getting lost even further as you were going deeper and deeper into the maze. Your heart started to pound in your chest and your hands began to shake as they turned cold. The corridor was cold in general – much colder than the rest of the fortress. And it was terrifyingly empty.

You decided to stay in one place and wait. Someone had to eventually look for you, right? You hoped for it to be true. Trying to hug your own self for warmth and comfort, you rested your back on the cold, grey wall, taking deep breaths in. 

Suddenly, a loud and animalistic cry emerged from behind one of the black doors. You were startled by it and your body began to tremble even more. You wanted to get away as far as possible from that door but when you were about to turn around and run, they opened and your heart squeezed in your chest.

To your surprise, it was your betrothed leaving the mysterious room. He was wearing gladiator attire and holding a blade in his hand with blood still dripping. His eyes widened at the sight of you and you froze.

“What are you doing here?” He asked in his deep and raspy voice.

“I… I got lost, I’m sorry. I’ve been told to roam freely around the fortress and explore on my own but I got lost…” You explained as you shivered.

Feyd-Rautha approached you slowly like predators approach their prey. You took a step back and felt the wall behind you. You were trapped.

“Lost, you’re saying?” He smirked as he hovered over you. Your heart was pounding so fast in your chest that he just had to hear it. He rested one of his hands on the wall above your head and leaned in even closer. “You’ve accidentally gone underground where I train on my slaves,” he smiled almost playfully, showing off his black stained teeth.

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to..” You gasped but he shushed you with a soft hiss.

“Did I say it was forbidden?” He asked and you shook your head. “Come, I’ll show you,” Feyd straightened himself and reached out his hand towards you as if he was a proper gentleman.

Everything inside you was screaming to run away and to not follow him anywhere. But you were aware that he would catch you in a second and your attempt would only most likely enrage him. And very soon you would belong to him anyway. You would be his property whether you wanted it or not.

You held his hand and he froze at the feeling of your ice cold and shivering fingers.

“You are cold,” he pointed out. “And scared.”

“I am not scared,” you lied. You had been taught that The Harkonnens hated fear and cowardice.

“And a liar,” Feyd-Rautha sneered and led you inside the mysterious room he had previously left.

It was big and dark like every other room in that fortress. There was a dead body of a servant in gladiator gear laying on the floor in the puddle of his own blood. The walls were covered in all sorts of weapons.

“This is where I train,” Feyd announced proudly. He had to think it would impress you but it only made you sick, especially the sight of the dead man on the floor. You had never seen death in such a brutal and ugly way before. But now you were sure it was not the last time.

Feyd was visibly waiting for your response as he let go of your hand and took a step back to tilt his head and watch your expressions carefully. You realised it was a test of how much you were able to handle as his wife.

You wondered what would happen if you failed all the tests. Would they just send you back home or would they get rid of you? Were they even able to do that? You didn’t want to find out.

“It is impressive, my Lord na-baron,” you admitted with a shaky nod of your head and he winced at your words which made you furrow your brows.

“Don’t address me like a servant, pet,” he clicked his tongue and you nodded, slightly uncomfortable at the way he had called you.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised. “How should I address you then?”

“However you like,” Feyd shrugged his arms and approached you once again, raising his bloody blade slightly as you flinched. It brought a smile to his full lips. Looking deep into your eyes, he licked the blade clean. You clenched your jaw and tried to keep a poker face on but a knot formed in your stomach at the disgusting act.

You hated to admit that he was attractive for a Harkonnen. There was a magnetic energy about him that made you attracted to him like a moth was driven to a flame. Even his harsh and unpleasant voice was leaving you wanting more.

Feyd brushed your hair with the tip of his freshly cleaned blade, carefully, making sure not to cut any strand.

“I want you to always wear your hair like this,” he looked even more intensely into your eyes.

“That would be inappropriate,” you tried to explain. “It’s not considered elegant.”

“I said, I want you to always wear your hair like this,” he repeated like he couldn’t understand why you were trying to argue. He was a spoiled na-baron and completely not used to people disobeying him. So, you just nodded this time.

“Then I will,” you promised. “If I could only get a hairbrush, though. Or a comb. So they don’t tangle,” you pleaded and he squinted his eyes at you as the tip of his blade moved to under your chin. You swallowed thickly at that gesture.

“A hairbrush or a comb,” he repeated your words. “That can be arranged,” he added and you smiled nervously at him. “What are you scared of?”

“Of the blade under my chin perhaps?” You raised an eyebrow at him and he chuckled, however his hand remained still.

“Weren’t you sent here to be my wife?” Feyd’s smile dropped in an instant. He was serious again and you took a deep breath in, tugging on the folds of your dress to hide how sweaty your hands had become.

“Yes, I was,” you nodded.

“And what do you think of that?”

“I don’t think. I have been preparing for that since I was a child,” you answered.

“I want to be a good husband,” his sudden confession made your eyes widen. In one swift move he took the blade away from you and replaced it with his hand as he held your chin up, forcing you to look into his eyes. “My uncle says that a wife should not be an enemy. He wants me to court you properly,” he explained.

“Is your uncle experienced in marriage?” You asked, curiously. You had been taught that Baron Harkonnen had never been married.

Feyd laughed at your question as his grip on your chin tightened. He moved his face even closer to yours, your nose nearly brushed his and it made you hold your breath.

“Can you think of a woman who would not become his enemy after being forced to marry him?” He asked you and you dared to chuckle at that.

“So, I assume, I do not have to worry about you becoming like him one day?” You bit on your lower lip, realising that he indeed did not want to hurt you.

Perhaps that whole uncomfortable and threatening situation was his idea of intimacy. You wouldn’t be surprised.

“My uncle is not my role model,” he only answered and took a step back, removing his hand from your chin. “I don’t have idols.”

“What do you worship then?” You furrowed your brows.

“Blood and honour,” he answered with all seriousness. “Allow me to give you something, my pet. A gift for my bride to be,” he proposed and you hesitantly agreed, not wanting to hurt his feelings by refusing.

You expected him to approach one of the walls and hand you some of the weapons. But, to your surprise, he kneeled down next to the dead body laying on the floor and he opened its chest with the sharp tip of his blade. You gagged quietly and covered your mouth with your hand, trying to look away as the metallic smell of blood hit your nostrils, leaving you nauseous.

The sound of his heavy footsteps made you look in his direction again, not wanting to offend him in any way. He was walking towards you proudly with a real human heart in his hands, blood dripping off of it on the floor, leaving a trace. With all your force you stopped yourself from squealing at the sight. No amount of training and studying The Harkonnen culture had prepared you for this.

Feyd-Rautha reached his hands out as he offered you his foul gift. He was staring at you intensely, expecting praise of some sort or admiration. However, you had none. You let the wet organ slip into your hands as you gagged once again at the sensation and a shiver went down your body. Your reaction caused Feyd to tilt his head and squint his eyes.

“What am I supposed to do with it?” You asked in a shaky voice.

“You don’t like it,” he pointed out after a short while of silence and you got scared of upsetting him.

“It’s not that I don’t like it, I just…” you started, trying to nervously explain yourself.

“You don’t like it,” he repeated, both annoyed and disappointed.

“I appreciate the gesture,” you tried to assure him. “I will keep it,” you promised.

“Why don’t you like it?” He asked once again, ignoring all your words. You sighed.

“It’s just not something I’m used to. In my homeworld, we don’t give each other human hearts,” you explained softly.

“What do you give each other?” His question was genuine and curious.

“Haven’t you studied my customs like I have been studying yours?” You asked but the answer was obvious.

“My uncle says it is not important for me to know your culture because you are here to become one of us,” Feyd explained. “The only thing I have been studying was the blade,” he added. “So, what kind of gifts do your people give?”

“Flowers,” you answered. “For example.”

“There are no flowers on Giedi Prime,” Feyd pointed out. “No seed blooms in our soil.”

“I understand,” you nodded, nervously. “I am grateful for your gift, Feyd-Rautha. I appreciate your courtship,” you assured him but your voice and hands were shaking as your face was visibly disgusted.

Someone knocked upon the doors and Feyd barked at them to come in. You turned around and saw two guards sighing out of relief at the sight of you.

“There you are, my Lady!” One of them approached you. “We’ve been searching everywhere. Let us escort you back to your chambers,” he bowed his head.

You nodded at him, relieved as well at the sight of them. You wanted nothing else than to go back to the familiar part of the fortress and to finally leave this awkward and uncomfortable situation with your betrothed.

Still holding the heart carefully in your hands, you walked out without even glancing at Feyd-Rautha. The guards took you to your chambers where the worried servants had been waiting. They gasped at the sight of your gift.

“What is it, my Lady?” One of the girls asked you.

“It’s a gift from Feyd-Rautha,” you explained as they all widened their eyes. “I have no idea what to do with it,” you admitted.

“Feyd Rautha gave it to you, my Lady?” The servant swallowed thickly and you nodded. “Do you know what it means, my Lady?”

“No,” you shook your head and handed the organ to another girl. “I desperately need to wash my hands and change my dress,” you said and disappeared into the bathroom where you spent fifteen minutes getting rid of the blood.

You took the stained dress off and threw it on the floor before walking out back to your chamber. The girls were already preparing the heart as they put it in a jar full of some odd liquid.

“It will dry in there, my Lady,” one of them explained. “Na-baron must be really enamoured with you, my Lady, or perhaps he is trying to show his best side to you.”

“Enamoured?” You snorted at her. “It’s gruesome.”

“It’s the most romantic thing a Harkonnen man can give to a woman, my Lady,” the other woman added and you gasped.

“I haven’t been taught that…” You whispered, feeling extremely stupid for the way you had treated Feyd-Rautha before. You had to anger him dearly and his rage was not something you wanted to deal with. “What is the equivalent of such a gift for a man? What can I give him in return?” You asked the servants and they looked at each other’s faces, surprised.

“There is no equivalent, my Lady,” one of them answered. “Harkonnen women do not court. Only men do.”

On the next day, when you were leaving your chambers to go to your class, you spotted the doors nearby opening and your betrothed walking out of them. Your room was in the same area as his so it was no surprise but you didn’t expect to see him at the same time in the morning. At the sight of you, he looked down and walked past you without a word, which made you feel bad for him and for the way you had treated him. But it also made you anxious because his uncle has been right about marriage. You didn’t want Feyd-Rautha to be your enemy.

Giedi Prime was far from perfect and your betrothed was an odd, psychotic creature. You couldn’t change your destiny, though, so you had to embrace it to make it bearable.

“Feyd, wait,” you rushed after him and he froze when you grabbed the sleeve of his robe. He turned around and looked at you coldly.

“I am in a hurry,” he drawled.

“So am I. But I wanted to apologise. I have been studying the Harkonnen culture for years but I have never been told of the meaning of such a gift,” you explained, feeling your cheeks getting warm. “Please, forgive me. I didn't mean to reject you.”

“The heart was of a low quality,” he admitted as his face softened slightly. “Next time I will give you the heart of a real warrior, a real enemy. Not some slave,” he added. “My uncle has already reprimanded me for that.”

You broke a smile at him. It was adorable in a way how this scary and dangerous man was following his uncle’s guide on courtship, trying to be on his best behaviour around you. It was making you feel powerful in a way.

“I would like to return the favour but my servants have informed me there is no such tradition,” you confessed. “What can I do for you to forgive me?”

Feyd-Rautha hesitated for a moment as he looked away, thinking intensely about something. Then he laid his eyes on you again and leaned in to join your lips together. You were startled at first, your heart pounded in your chest. Raised to become his wife, you had never kissed anybody before and saved yourself for him only, however it felt as if his soft lips were truly made for yours. You put your hand on his chest and opened your mouth to invite his tongue in. He devoured you, greedily wanting to explore your mouth and feast on your taste. His hands pulled you closer by your hips and you put your free hand behind his head. Seeing him for the first time in real life two days ago, you had been slightly uncomfortable at the sight of him. But now you did not feel any of that.

Even if you hadn’t been prepared to become his wife, you’d still want him. You had been born to be his.

Feyd’s hands moved up and cupped your face before breaking the kiss and moving away gently. You took a deep breath in as he stared into your eyes and caressed your loose hair.

“You’re forgiven, my pet,” he told you. “By the way, I’ve ordered a hair brush for you.”

MASTERLIST

[grangerhater]

MINE, ALWAYS

pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

synopsis : they are rivals but once they are assigned roommates for a school trip they actually forget to argue about that, surprisingly accepting they have to share a bed.

warnings: rivals w sexual tension, eventual sexual content, (wanrning : plot before p0rn), piv, bj, f!ngering, one bed trope, everyone is above 18 obviously, possessiveness

smut, enemies to lovers, and some fluff if you squint

The Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade Station, and students excitedly disembarked, ready for their annual school trip. Among the bustling crowd, Draco Malfoy and Y/N Y/L/N found themselves eyeing each other warily. For years, they had been rivals, their rivalry filled with tension and sparks flying whenever they were in close proximity. This trip was no exception.

Fate had a funny way of working sometimes, and in this instance, it meant that Draco and Y/N found themselves assigned to share a room at the quaint inn where they would be staying. The room was cozy, with a single bed taking up most of the space. When they exchanged glances, they both felt a mixture of anticipation and unease at the thought of spending the trip in such close quarters.

After settling in, Draco decided to freshen up. He disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water echoing through the room. Y/N took this opportunity to unpack their belongings, trying to focus on the task at hand and ignore the butterflies fluttering in their stomach.

Minutes later, Draco emerged from the bathroom, his wet hair tousled and a towel wrapped securely around his waist. His silver eyes met Y/N's gaze, and for a brief moment, time seemed to stand still. There was an undeniable hunger in his eyes, a longing that neither of them could deny. Y/N felt their heart racing, their body trembling with anticipation.

But just as quickly as the moment had arrived, it vanished, replaced with the familiar tension and bickering that had defined their relationship for so long.

"You're taking up all the space," Draco snapped, eyeing the scattered belongings on the bed.

"Well, maybe if you weren't hogging the bathroom for so long, I wouldn't have had to unpack here," Y/N countered, their voice laced with a mix of annoyance and amusement.

Draco rolled his eyes, his trademark smirk playing on his lips. "Always finding something to complain about, aren't you?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smirk of their own forming. "Well, someone has to keep you in check, Malfoy."

As the trip continued, their bickering continued. Every interaction between them was laced with snarky comments and subtle jabs. But beneath the surface, there was an undeniable chemistry that neither of them could ignore. Every look or touch was charged with unspoken emotion, a tension between them that neither could deny. Even when they fought, there was a deep understanding of each other's feelings that kept them connected throughout the trip.

During a visit to a picturesque village, Draco and Y/N found themselves exploring together. The narrow streets were filled with the hustle and bustle of market vendors, but their focus was solely on each other. They wandered aimlessly, their banter providing a soundtrack to their journey. The tension between them seemed to grow with each passing moment, filling the air with an almost tangible electricity.

As they strolled along, they came across a small park, secluded and peaceful. Unable to resist the lure of the empty benches and serene atmosphere, they sat down, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them.

"You know," Y/N began, their voice softer than before, "I've always wondered why we seem to clash so much, other than the fact you are a spoiled little prick."

Draco's expression softened, curiosity evident in his eyes. "And what conclusion have you come to, Y/L/N?"

A small smile played on Y/N's lips. "I think it's because we bring out the best in each other, even if we don't always realize it.

Draco's gaze softened, his walls crumbling in the presence of Y/N's vulnerability. "Perhaps you're right. We've always pushed each other to be better, even if we've gone about it in the most antagonistic way possible."

Silence settled between them for a moment, the weight of their unspoken feelings hanging in the air. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, they reverted back to their familiar bickering.

"You're still as insufferable as ever, Malfoy," Y/N teased, their voice filled with fondness.

"And you're still as infuriating, Y/L/N," Draco shot back, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

But this time, the bickering was laced with something different. It held a hint of affection, a deeper connection that both Draco and Y/N were beginning to acknowledge.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the village, they made their way back to the inn. The room awaited them, the single bed serving as a constant reminder of the tension that had simmered between them all day.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, their gaze flickering between Draco and the bed. They took a deep breath, their usual shyness and insecurity being replaced by a newfound confidence. "I suppose we'll have to make do with the sleeping arrangements, won't we, Malfoy?"

Draco's eyes gleamed with a mixture of surprise and desire. "I suppose we will, Y/L/N. Still despise your face though, don’t be spreading around that i allowed you to share my bed."

Y/N smirked, rolling their eyes. "Of course, Malfoy. Wouldn't have it any other way."

And so, with a mix of tension, desire, and undeniable chemistry, Draco and Y/N climbed into the single bed, their rivalry and bickering fading into the background. In that moment, they found solace in each other's presence, their hunger finally acknowledged and their connection strengthening.

When only pure silence was heard right before they fell asleep Y/N heard a whisper yell from Malfoy’s side "You think you're so much better than me? You think you're so much smarter? You're just a nosy, stuck-up, know-it-all-Bimbo!"

"At least I'm actually smart enough to understand the concept of 'personal space!' You're just a spoiled, entitled brat who's never had to work for anything in your life!” she replied firmly yet half asleep

Draco's body tensed at Y/N's comment, their bickering reaching a boiling point. His hands wrapped around Y/N's wrists, roughly manhandling them and pulling them close.

"You're so stubborn!" Draco hissed, his breath hot against Y/N's ear. "Do you seriously think I won't do anything if you refuse to listen to me?"

Y/N glared back, struggling against Draco's grip, but unable to break free.

Draco's grip tightened around Y/N's wrists, a possessive glint in his eyes. He leaned inhis lips brushing against Y/N's neck as he whispered "You're mine, Y/N you belong to me" He trailed kisses down her neck, nipping at her skin as she moaned in pleasure

Draco's eyes narrowed as he watched Y/N struggle against him a cruel smile playing at the corners of his lips. He leaned in, his lips brushing against Y/N's ear as he whispered "You know you want this. You want me to take control, to make you mine" With a sudden movement Draco spun Y/N around, pressing her against the wall. His hands roamed over her bodypinning her wrists above her head as he claimed her lips in a rough, possessive kiss.

Y/N moaned into the kiss, her body responding to Draco's touch despite her angerHe pulled awaya wicked grin on his face as he leaned in to whisper in her ear once more.

"You're mine, Y/N. And I'll do whatever it takes to make you realize it" With thatDraco claimed Y/N's lips once more, their bodies moving together in a frenzy of desire as he asserted his dominance over her once more

Y/N's struggles ceased as Draco's touch sent shivers down her spine. She arched her backpressing herself closer to him, craving more of his touch. Draco's hands roamed over her body tracing every curve and dip, igniting a fire within her.

Their bickering forgotten, they gave into their desires their bodies entwined in a passionate embrace. Draco's lips met Y/N's, his tongue exploring her mouth as she moaned in pleasure. He pushed her onto the bed, his hands roaming over her body as he stripped her of her clothes

Draco pushed Y/N against the wall, his lips crashing against hers in a fierce, possessive kiss. He gripped her hips tightly, grinding his hard cock against her thigh.

Y/N moaned into his mouth, her body responding to his touch despite her anger. Draco's hands roamed over her body, his fingers digging into her flesh as he claimed her as his own.

He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck as he bit and sucked at her skin, leaving marks of his ownership all over her body. Y/N's body trembled with desire as Draco's hands roamed over her, his fingers finding their way between her legs.

He teased her, rubbing her clit with a fierce hunger before plunging his fingers deep inside her. As he fingered her, his other hand found its way to her breast, pinching and twisting her nipple until she cried out in pleasure.

He continued to finger her, his pace increasing as he took her closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. Finally, he pulled his fingers out of her, turning her around and pushing her down onto her knees.

He unzipped his pants, pulling out his hard cock and thrusting it into her mouth. Y/N took him eagerly her mouth enveloping him as she worked him with her tongue Draco's hands tangled in her hair, pulling her head back as he fucked her mouth with a fierce hunger.

He pulled out of her mouth pushing her back against the wall and lifting her legs up to wrap around his waist. He thrust into her with a fierce hunger, his body slamming against hers with each movement

Y/N cried out in pleasure, her body writhing against his as he took her closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. Draco's thrusts became more urgent and intense, his body trembling with desire as he neared his own peak.

As he continued to pound into her, his grip on her throat tightened leaving marks of his ownership all over her body. Y/N's nails dug into his back as he continued to thrust into her with a fierce hunger

Their bickering reached a boiling point, with Draco manhandling Y/N and claiming her as his own, he took control making her his in a rough, possessive kiss and teasing her with a fierce hunger before plunging his fingers deep inside her.

Finally, they reached their climax, their bodies writhing in ecstasy as they cried out each other's names. Draco asserted his dominance once more, reminding Y/N that she belonged to him.

Draco's grip on Y/N's body loosened as he pulled out of her, his chest heaving as he looked down at her. Y/N's eyes were closed, her body still trembling with pleasure.

Draco leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as he whispered, "You're mine, Y/N. Always" Y/N opened her eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"I know," she murmured, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair. "I wouldn't want it any other way"

Draco helped Y/N to her feet, holding her close as they stood there, their bodies still intertwined. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, his hands trailing down her body as he whispered, "You're so beautiful, Y/N. I could never get enough of you"

Y/N blushed, leaning into him as she whispered back, "I feel the same way about you Draco. I love you"

Draco's eyes softened, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I love you too, Y/N. Always and forever”

They stood there for a few moments longer, their bodies entwined as they basked in the afterglow of their passion. Finally they pulled apart, their eyes meeting as they smiled at each other

Draco took Y/N's hand, leading her towards the bed. "Come on" he said, his voice low and husky. "Let's get some rest, we have a lot more exploring to do tomorrow"

Y/N smiled, following him to the bed as they settled in for the night, their bodies entwined as they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms

[sehunniepotwrites]

RISK IT ALL | L.HC

SYNOPSIS. In theory, playing a card game called Risk It or Drink It during your holiday kickback sounded fun. In reality, it was your group’s wild plot scheme for you and your close friend, Donghyuck, to finally get yourselves together in more ways than one. 

PAIRING. Lee Donghyuck x fem!Reader WORD COUNT. 14.4k GENRE. Friends-to-Lovers!AU, Holiday!AU, Christmas!AU, Party!AU, mutual pining, smut (minors dni!), comedy/humor, a tiny bit of fluff

WARNINGS. language (crude sexual jokes, talks about sex positions, and profanities), alcohol and food consumption, adult drinking games with dares, haechan is heavy on consent, body shots, brief vouyerism, explicit content (needy!haechan, possessive!haechan, fingering, oral–male and female receiving, nipple play, praise kink, penetrative, missionary, etc.), nicknames (hers: princess, baby | his: baby)

PLAYLIST. Up to You - PRETTYMUCH feat. NCT Dream | Look at Me - George | A Nonsesne Christmas - Sabrina Carpenter | santa doesn’t know you like i do - Sabrina Carpenter | Yours (Live feat. Winter and Mark) - Chanyeol and Raiden

DISCLAIMER. This is work of fiction. I do not own the people/characters or concepts I have written about. You cannot translate or copy my work. © sehunniepotwrites, 2023

As people say, Saturday nights are for the boys. 

To you, the boys refer to your group of best friends formed early in your college years. The bond strengthened even after graduation. Two years after leaving your university adventures behind, your Saturday nights still belonged to your small close knit group. What started as dressing up in your best clothes and club hopping hours into the night turned into wearing comfy clothes and hosting weekly kickbacks in your respective apartments. You exchanged drunkenly shouting over loud music with drunkenly shouting over party games. Sometimes, you drink and others, you abstain from consuming alcohol to just bask in your hilarious company.

As you grew older, the clubbing and party scene seemed too exhausting with your nine-to-fives taking up most of your energy. Why would you want to socialize with stupid drunk strangers in a crowded room when you could just do that with your tight circle of friends?

Donghyuck and Mark hosted the kickback at their place this week–this one a little fancier than others due to it being the Saturday before Christmas. You loved it when they did. It gave you the excuse to drink to your heart’s content, knowing you could just crash in Donghyuck’s bed at the end of the night. You never did drink past your limit though–too afraid of your darkest secrets slipping through your loose lips–secrets only Jaemin and his girlfriend Ari knew. 

Ari was a great secret keeper. She never revealed your secret crush on Donghyuck to her lover. You did that yourself one semester when you bursted into her room, complaining about how attractive your best friend looked in his leather jacket to the point of wanting to kiss his pretty confident smirk off his face.  Jaemin heard it all while waiting for his girlfriend to get out of the shower. But as loyal as a friend could be, he kept the slip to your tiny little trio. That, however, did not stop the occasional teasing that happened here and there in full group settings. 

It seemed like Jaemin and Ari always had something up their sleeves when you found yourselves hanging out with them and Donghyuck. They would find tiny little ways to get you and your crush in positions where you had no choice but to be near him. For example, setting up days where the hang outs seemed more like double dates and then pretending to get lost just to guarantee you some alone time with him. Their plans, though obvious to you, worked in many ways. Jaemin and Ari often returned to you with matching grins on their pretty faces when they saw your hands linked together or with Donghyuck’s arm comfortably draped around your shoulder, his free hand carrying your purse. 

You honestly weren’t sure how Donghyuck never caught on to their schemes. 

Maybe he did but refused to say anything on the topic. 

Nevertheless, the devil worked hard but Ari and Jaemin worked even harder.

Although you asked the two to stop fueling the delusions floating in your mind, they insisted Donghyuck liked you too. “His feelings for you were undeniable,” they said,  “just look at the way he treated you versus everyone else.” 

Your best friend—with his gentle touches, sweet smiles, and teasing tones—dropped anything for you. He’d walk you to class even if his classes were on the other side of campus, protect you from creeps that gave you the ick, and have food delivered to your job when you had a rough day. When your dates with men went awry, Donghyuck arrived in seconds. According to the couple, the possibilities were endless for Donghyuck but only when it came to you. And tonight, apparently, was going to show you how endless the possibilities were. 

You were a bit sad Mark was missing out on this round of drinking at his place but as Jaemin slammed the box of cards down on the dining table, maybe it was for the best that the eldest of the group missed it. He’d miss the chaos happening at his apartment but at least, he’d earn money while doing it. 

Stealing a quick glance at Donghyuck, he looked so cute in his oversized knit sweater. The Santa hat resting on top of his long, wavy hair made him appear cozier than usual. Your outfits coincidentally matched–your sweaters in a similar shade and a Santa hat headband resting on top of your scalp. 

“Alright, bitches,” Jaemin smirked while opening the box, “tonight’s game is called Risk It or Drink It. You better not be pussies now.” You missed the gamemaster giving Donghyuck a pointed look as you handed out Ari’s soju cocktails to all the people in attendance. Donghyuck stealthily flipped him off. 

“He means you, babes,” Ari nudged you as she poured the two of you a shot. “We’re doing this for you.”

You grabbed it, the liquid spilling from the top, as you raised it for a toast. “No shit, Sherlock.”

Ari striked her glass with yours, “Well, Watson. Bottom’s up.” 

“Merry fucking Christmas!” The two of you downed the shot, not wincing in the slightest. The dangerous thing about flavored soju was that it tasted sweet, didn’t burn, and snuck up on you when you least expected it.

Everyone gathered around the kitchen island, some choosing to stand or lean against the countertop, while others took a seat on the barstools. You all watched as Jaemin set the game up with ease, placing a thick stack of cards in the middle of the table. 

“The rules are simple. We all take turns getting a card, reading it out loud, and doing what the card says, which is either doing a dare or answering a question. If you can do it, you earn the points at the bottom of the card and keep the card. If you can’t, take a shot or a swig of your drink. First to ten points wins. The player with the least point drinks out of”–the gamemaster pointed to a disgusting concoction next to the cards–“finishes the king’s cup. Got it?”

A chorus of agreement circled around the room and so the game began.

The first round was an easy one. You suspected the deck wasn’t shuffled well enough.

 Jeno’s card asked him to show off how much money was in his account, causing Yeri to jokingly ask him if he needed a sugar baby. He retaliated by telling her to ask Mark when he came home, making her take a big swig of her cocktail to draw attention away from her reddening face. Giselle had to name the worst dressed in the room, which led to Renjun’s cute outburst. Jaemin faked a proposal to his girlfriend and had to chug his drink when she said “no.” 

It was all fun and games until it came to you. That was when the party truly began.

You drew your card, skimmed through the words silently with a puzzled look, and then made a face. On your right, Donghyuck threw his arm over your shoulder to pull you closer to his side. He looked at the card as well, his face slightly dropping as he processed the task. 

“What does it say?” Karina yelled from the other side of the circle. 

Clearing your throat, you read aloud, “Lick the person on your left’s earlobe for five seconds or drink.” 

Jaemin was to the left of you and as much as you thought your friend was attractive, no amount of drinks in the world would result in you doing that.

“Damn, if only it said person to your right,” Jaemin whistled, reaching over to pat Donghyuck’s knee. Then, a mischievous glint in his eye appeared. “Hey, Donghyuck! Wanna switch sides for this card?”

“Jaem, what the fuck?!”

Donghyuck immediately shot up and the rest of the group hollered at the suggestion, urging him to move. Shoving Jaemin aside, your best friend beamed at you. He made a show out of it, pretending to tuck strands of his hair behind his ear. “Ready when you are, Princess.” 

You shoved his side at his flirty tactics, quickly looking away from the pair of eyes you couldn’t resist. “You would be the type to like this shit,” you attempted to play off, ignoring the increasing heartbeats the more he looked at you. 

“I’m into anything as long as you’re the one doing it,” he threw back, quickly placing a kiss right next to your earlobe. You inhaled sharply at the touch. You could almost feel the smirk spreading across his lips as he pulled away.

The screams that followed that line reminded you that you were not alone–you were in a room filled with people that you loved and were now watching you grow even more flustered than you already were. Heaven knows you were not drunk enough for this. Shaking your head out of the thoughts that followed Donghyuck’s words, you reached for your glass and said, “I’m drinking.”

Vocalized disappointment circled around the room and you ignored it, taking three large gulps of your cocktail. You slammed the glass down and felt the alcohol run through your body. If the dares were anything like that one, it would take you a lot more to actually do something. 

Donghyuck didn’t vocalize anything after your choice was made but you did catch his smirk drop the second your lips touched the rim of your glass. The large hand he had around your waist acted as a sign for you to put your drink down. Without words, he placed an opened water bottle in front of you and gestured to it with his chin–he wanted you to take a sip. You did as you were told as the second round of dares continued.

You all had trouble holding in your laughter when Karina called a friend, put them on speakerphone, and asked them to pick her up from the station after being detained for having car sex in a public area. The cackles were harder to contain when the friend pressed for details instead of immediately coming to her aid. When the insistence failed to cease, Karina spit out the first name that came to her head and ended up unmasking the flame she carried for Jeno. You grinned at the unfolding, taking note of how Jeno’s body perked up the minute Karina’s friend screamed, “Finally!” 

Ari confidently revealed her body count, Yeri had to endure being tickled by everyone for thirty seconds, and Renjun took two shots instead of calling his ex-girlfriend.

“List three sex positions in ten seconds or drink,” Donghyuck read his card aloud. Before he could even process the task, the group started counting down, adding pressure onto the boy. “Oh shit! Umm, missionary, doggy–oh what the fuck, what else is there?!”

His time was up before he could think of a third and Giselle shoved a shot in his hand. “You better drink, Hyuck!” 

Donghyuck accepted his fate, groaning after he took the shot. As he nuzzled his head into your neck, you could tell he was disappointed at his failure.

“Aww, baby, couldn’t think fast enough with your little pea brain?” you teased, running your fingers through his messy hair. 

He looked up at you with a playful sneer and pursed his lips. “Like you could do any better in ten seconds.”

Looking Donghyuck dead in the eye, you listed three off the bat with a deadpan face, “Cowgirl, 69, doggy. It’s not that hard, Hyuckie.”

With no other context, your best friend dropped his head back into place and said, “You will be the death of me one day, you know that, right?” His plush lips, now wet with the remnants of alcohol, brushed against the junction of your neck and exposed shoulder. The sudden touch made you shiver.

“And why’s that?”

Donghyuk breathed out, the air making  goosebumps appear on your skin, and deflected the question. “It’s your turn. Draw.”

The moment you pulled the card, Donghyuck shifted his head to read the card with you. His body began to shake with laughter as the rest of your crew rushed you to reveal the dare. 

God, you were not drunk enough for this. He grabbed the paper out of your fingers and took the liberties of saying the dare, “Hold a piece of food in your mouth and have the person on your right,” he paused, grazing his soft fingers on your bare knee, “that’s me, princess—”

“Yes, I know my rights from lefts, Hyuck.”

“—and have them take it from you.”

“I’m picking the piece of food you use and don’t you dare complain!” Ari yelled before anyone else could claim the job. 

Everyone watched as she stifled through a plate of French fries. Her playful grin expanded across her pretty face when she found the perfect fry—a thin, crispy piece that was around an inch long. The group exploded with excitement as she held it up. 

“That,” you pointed to the fry in your friend’s hand, “cannot be legal. That has to be against the rules!”

Jaemin pretended to examine the fry his girlfriend was holding. “Hmm, looks fine to me.”

“You’re a menace, Jaem,” you hissed at him.

Jaemin came right back, “Just doing what has to be done to take us out of our misery.”

“What misery?!”

With everything already set, you resigned to your friend’s wishes and begrudgingly accepted the dare. Ari handed you the tiny piece of food. You sighed dramatically before placing it between your teeth. It barely extended past your top and bottom lip. Shooting Donghyuck a widened look, you told him to hurry. If you were to prolong this dare any longer, you were afraid of the fry breaking before he’d get to it. 

You stood still as Donghyuck approached with a smug look. It disappeared as soon as his eyes dropped to the french fry you held, lingering at the sight of your parted mouth. When he looked back up at you, there was a sort of look in the brown irises you were so attracted to. Hunger. Anticipation. 

“Lean in,” someone shouted but your body froze in its place.

Swallowing back your nervousness, his two warm hands touched your face, both molding to your cheeks. Shutting your eyes as he grew closer, the last thing you saw was his handsome face tilting to get a better angle. Donghyuck’s actions were lightning quick and sudden, making your heart beat skyrocket towards the moon. 

His breath tickled your skin and then, his lips brushed ever so gently against yours. It didn’t last too long; after all, his goal was to retrieve the french fry. You did your best to focus on that, remembering not to bite down to break the crunchy strip of food–the task at hand was hard but not impossible.

Then, there was a slight pressure, the plushness of his lips pushing into you as Donghyuck bit, tugging the food out of your mouth. 

Still frozen in your spot, you sensed Donghyuck pulling back. You exhaled through your nostrils and slowly opened your eyes. Your best friend was right in front of you, wearing a smirk as he chewed on the fry. He licked around his mouth, gathering the tiny dusts of salt before humming. 

“Salty,” was all he said while everyone surrounding  you laughed at his antics.

Ignoring the hammering of your heart as he continued to stare at your lips, you cleared your throat. As much as you tried to shove all feelings of attraction aside, Donghyuck kept his sultry gaze fixated on you. You watched as it dipped back down to your lips again, his fingers coming up to brush away the little specks of salt that stuck your mouth. 

Everything was too much for you–the warmth of his touch, the intensity of his stare, the looks the others were giving you–it was time to direct everyone’s attention elsewhere.

 “Next dare,” you called out, facing away from Donghyuck.

 You did the honors of drawing the card for the next person, reading it out loud and keeping the game going. Despite everyone else’s attention following your distraction, you could still detect your crush’s unwavering stare from your side. You were hyper-aware of his arm circling your waist, tugging you closer to his body heat, and the way his palm curved so perfectly into your side. It sent tingles down your spine, goosebumps forming in your flesh, and heat rising up from the tips of your extremities to the middle of your body.

Looking at the depleting stack as the game continued, you thought it couldn’t get any worse than this. Turns out, you were dead wrong.

Donghyuck plucked the next card at the top of the deck, read it to himself, and let out a low chuckle. Squeezing your side, fingers tickling the sliver of exposed skin, he said, “Looks like it’s you and me again, Princess.”

 The  reaction kept the group of friends on the edge of their seats, curiosity getting the better of them. “Read it!” Giselle yelled from the other side of the island bar. 

Hating the way Donghyuck dragged things out, it was time to take matters into your own hands. Snatching the card out of his hand, you relayed the message aloud, “Hold a staring contest for thirty seconds with the person on your left or drink. The two participants must be within two inches of each other.”

Oh shit. 

If there was one thing that made you weak, it was the way Donghyuck stared at you. You barely survived him stealing the fry. There was a mission to complete despite his impenetrable gaze, which kept your center of interest. But for this particular dare, nothing would be in the way but the air you both breathed. Could you be able to maintain your cool or would you fold the minute your eyes locked with his?

“Oh, this is going to be good,” Jeno whispered to Karina, the two now seemingly closer after the phone call scandal. She giggled, turning her head towards him to hide her laugh. Traitors, you thought to yourself, the both of them. 

Faking nonchalance, you shifted towards an eager looking Donghyuck. “Thirty seconds is nothing. Let’s get this over with.”

“Whatever you say, princess,” he replied, swiveling in his chair to face you. 

The arm holding you close to him slid down your shoulder to rest on your waist, his hand making its way under your sweater and palm now resting on the small of your back. Your body arched at his touch before you fully processed what happened, your grip instantly shooting to his take hold of his upper arms to maintain balance. You ignored the way his muscles flexed under your palms. 

Donghyuck chuckled again, “We didn’t even start and you’re already like this. How cute.”

Despite how his words and tone made you melt on the inside, how they made you sink a little more into his touch, the snark came bubbling out of your mouth. “Shut up.”

Donghyuck did the exact opposite of what you demanded. “Why don’t you make me?”

“Oh my god, Donghyuck,” you groaned.

“Is the timer ready?” he asked no one in particular while keeping you in his line of sight. It never wavered even as someone in the crowd announced they had pulled one up and were waiting for his cue. 

“Start it,” your best friend commanded and then began the longest thirty seconds of your life.

With Donghyuck barely two inches away from your face, his brown eyes dug deep into your soul. Unable to look away, you took note of how his pupils dilated as Donghyuck continued to stare. The way he looked at you was breathtaking, so focused, like you were the only thing that mattered in the moment. 

The boy’s stare, although flattering, was almost too intimidating for you to take. The intensity of it all made you want to withdraw, the upper half of your body drawing away from him. No matter how much you wanted to escape, he didn’t let you. Every time you pulled back, he pushed forward until the tip of your nose grazed against his. The hand underneath your sweater found its way up to support your upper back, his other arm extending out to grip the counter top. Donghyuck now had you pinned in between the island bar and his body and it was too damn hot in the room for this. 

Just as Donghyuck broke the connection to steal a glance at your lips for the second (or third time) that night, the timer alarmed to signal the end of your dare. You lightly shoved your hands against your crush’s chest, ignoring how firm the muscles below you were, to make more room. Once you deemed him far enough, you reached for your cocktail and took a long swig to cool your overheating body down.

Everyone had their own reactions to the stunt: Giselle and Yeri giggling in the corner, Renjun scrolling through the pictures he snuck of the interaction, Jeno and Karina whispering to another about what just transpired. While downing your drink, you made eye contact with Jaemin, who wiggled his eyebrows annoyingly. You were so close to using his pretty face as your punching bag. Ari simply winked at you. You flipped her off in reply.

Even as everyone else moved on, Donghyuck was still stuck on the dare that occurred. 

While taking one too many sips of your drink, you spilled a bit of it, liquid sticking to part of your skin. With no hesitation, Donghyuck used a part of his sleeve to wipe it away. The fingers still tucked into your knit sweater rose up to graze the back of your neck. You shuddered as he pulled his hand away, the warmth leaving with him. Just when you thought it was over, his nimble fingers reached out to fix the Santa headband that was slipping. Your breath hitched  and your crush promptly picked up on it. 

“Do I make you nervous?” he whispered, tacking your name to the end of his question. His voice was lower than usual, the cheerful and bright cadence long gone. The difference in his tone caused your heart to drop to the floor, as if it was free falling from an amusement park’s drop tower at the highest speed. There was no way to pick it back up.

“You wish.”

Donghyuck had the honors of having the last word this time. “I really do.”

No matter how hard you denied it, your best friend did make you nervous. It was apparent when he took the french fry from your mouth and when you had a staring contest. It was even more evident during your next turn, when you were tasked to spin a bottle and kiss whoever it landed on. 

There was no point in even spinning the bottle; you knew your mischievous friends would make you re-spin until you landed on the person they (i.e. you) wanted. You twirled the bottle a total of three times. The first time, it landed in between Jaemin and Ari and the next, it pointed to Renjun who quickly shifted from its path. On the last try, it stopped in the middle of you and Donghyuck. 

Ari’s manicured hand quickly flicked the bottle just enough so the opened end was aimed right at your best friend. “Well, would you look at that?” she giggled. “It landed on Hyuckie.” 

That girl was a devil in disguise, just like her damned partner.

You rolled your eyes. Sarcasm dripped through your words,“Who would’ve thought?” 

“Damn. Is the thought of kissing me that dreadful to you?” Donghyuck asked, lifting his Santa hat to run through his hair. His long fingers pushed back the curled bangs covering his eyes, holding them in place as he awaited your reply. 

The thought was far from dreadful. Nerve wracking was a far better word to describe how you were feeling. Thrilling was another one you could throw into your word bank. 

You ignored the question, too busy handling the butterflies hovering about in your stomach. One almost got caught in your throat when he swiveled your bar stool to face him. You gulped, shoving it back down. 

 “Is it?” Donghyuck insisted you answer him. You couldn’t lie so you abstained from replying. “Oh, you want me to kiss you so bad, don’t you, princess?”

Avoiding his eyes, you muttered, “Let’s get this over with.” 

“Gladly.” 

The next thing you knew, Donghyuck’s rough hands found their way back to your cheeks and tugged you closer. Seizing the opportunity, your best friend closed the distance with no hesitation. His plush lips crashed against yours and the years of tension between the two of  you ultimately snapped. 

As soon as he felt you kiss him back, your body melting right into his grasp, Donghyuck circled an arm around your waist to lock you in his hold. His other hand sneakily traced a path up your arm, creating gooseflesh on your skin, until finding purchase at the back of your head. He cupped your neck to keep you in place and went back for seconds. The first kiss ended and you parted for a mere moment to catch the tiniest breath before you went back at it. 

Donghyuck didn’t care about the crowd and quite frankly, you forgot about the audience. He kissed you hard and you couldn’t stop reciprocating even if you tried. The taste of him was addicting, it was impossible to break away.  

It was official; you were drunk on him within the first kiss. When Donghyuck tightened his grip, you let out a quiet yet pleasured sound. You latched onto his wavy, brown locks only to tug on them. If you went on for any longer, you were sure to have found your way onto his spread out thighs but you were stopped before you could carry on.

Renjun whistled, pulling your attention from Donghyuck’s kiss and back to the real world. 

You slowly opened your eyes, dazed for a moment in time, until you realized what just occurred. Withdrawing the hands tangled in your crush’s hair, you took in your best friend’s appearance–lips red and swollen, hair messy, and eyes half-lidded and completely fixated on your mouth. His chest rose and fell with each breath he took and once his gaze met yours, you swore his pupils grew in size. 

“God damn,” Jeno coughed, clearly flustered by the public display of affection. “Hyuck, you need a moment or?”

“Hmmm?” Donghyuck hummed, his stare unfaltering. He tracked every minuscule move you made, from the way you drew yourself back to create some much needed distance to how your mouth let out little pants to slow down your heart rate. He watched you press the back of your hands against your burning cheeks in a failed attempt to cool down. “No, no, I think I’m good.”

“I honestly think they both need a moment,” Yeri muttered under her breath. 

“Under the mistletoe maybe,” Ari whispered back. 

“The bedroom’s more like it. The card said kiss, not make out for the whole fucking world to see,” Renjun scolded, rubbing his eyes to erase the vision. You probably scarred the poor boy for life. He was most likely debating on whether or not he had to burn his eyes. 

“I think that looked hot,” Jaemin commented, giving you a wink. The heat in your cheeks turned up a notch. “Enjoyed it a little too much, yeah?”

“Of course, you enjoyed it, Jaem. You’re a freak,” Giselle said.

“Hey, no kink shaming here! This is a safe space! I’m going to make you take a shot for that!”

Only then did Donghyuck snap out of whatever trance you had him under. He gave you this enchanting smile that looked even prettier with his puffy lips. You did that to him. A swell of pride coursed through you–you ruined him even if it was just for a moment.

One of his hands dropped to your mid thigh while the side arguments continued. It traced a path to your knee, his thumb stroking your skin back and forth. “Was that okay?”

It was more than okay. Fantastic. Exciting. Stimulating even, judging by the damp feeling in your underwear. Worthy enough for an encore performance. “Yes.”

“Good,” Donghyuck gulped, suddenly shy and less confident than he usually is. “Are we okay?”

The look of a siren took over your features, your eyes flickering to his lips for a short second. Chin pointed down, your eyes then widened when rising up to meet his stare. Your hand settled on top of his, grounding it on your bare thigh. He squeezed your flesh as you answered with a breathless, “yeah.” 

“It wasn’t too much?” Donghyuck asked, leaning into you. 

He always did this–made sure that you were comfortable when put in awkward or unusual situations. Even when he stole your breath away with a kiss or two, the first thing he thought of was you. 

The only response you could give was a shake of your head, causing the headband to fall back yet again. With his light touch, Donghyuck fixed it right up and combed back the stray hairs stuck to your face.

“Good,” he repeated with a satisfied nod. 

He pressed against your thigh once more and you squeezed his hand back. When your hand refused to move, Donghyuck took it as a sign to keep it there for as long as you accepted his touch. As the game went on and the dares entertained the rest of the crowd, you kept yourself amused by running your fingers against his knuckles. It tickled your crush to no end, his hand squirming underneath yours, trying to break free from your crutches but you didn’t let up. 

To prevent it any further, Donghyuck swiftly turned his hand around and tangled his fingers with yours. He kept you in a tight but not squeezing grasp and it took your attention away from your friend group’s shenanigans. 

You missed Giselle refusing to take another shot and reluctantly taking off Renjun’s sweater vest with her mouth, then Yeri answering a “fuck, marry, kill” question, all because of how Donghyuck’s hand molded so perfectly with yours. Your eyes were glued to your intertwined fingers under the countertop, hidden from everyone else’s sight, but so crystal clear for yours. 

Your heart was going crazy, even crazier than when he kissed you in front of everyone. Those were all done for the public but this little moment was meant for you alone. Donghyuck didn’t have to hold your hand. He stood next to you now, his own seat long forgotten, just to be closer to you. You tested something, trying to pull away but his grip around your hand strengthened, as if he never wanted to let you go. 

With a smile on your face, you allowed yourself to lean against him, your arm pressing against his. As you did this, Donghyuck released the hand he held, only to sling over your shoulder. He shifted to hug you from behind, his back bent slightly so he could reach back down to connect your hands again. 

You looked up at him. “Comfortable?”

Donghyuck’s melodic voice hummed in reply and you leaned into his chest as he held you tighter. You held your breath as you felt a bit of his strengthened chest pressing into your upper back. 

When you stood to refill your cup ten minutes later, Donghyuck still held you with his arms circling your waist as you bent and reached across the countertop. Something hard grazed against your butt as you wiggled in his embrace, stretching your fingers to grab onto the half-emptied soju bottle. He emitted the quietest groan and gripped your sides to keep you still. Heat rushed throughout your entire body when the realization hit and a wave of arousal crashed against you.

“Please stop moving,” he said, desperation oozed out of his gentle command. 

The boy couldn’t move you himself, needing you to shield the erection that he was desperately trying to hide. He simply let you out of his hold, long enough to pour yourself another drink, before his arms encompassed you once more. His chin dropped to your shoulder as you sipped on your drink. 

“Sorry, can’t help it,” Donghyuck mumbled into your ear, his lips grazing against your earlobe. The slightest brush sent shivers down your spine and you were sure he felt it. It reminded you of the dare card you received earlier and you wondered if your crush would have the same reaction if the roles were reversed.

“It’s ‘kay,” you hushed back. 

“Is it though?” Donghyuck pushed. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“I would push you away if I was,” you reassured him before offering him a sip of your drink. 

If you turned back, you would’ve caught his eyes widening at your reply. It was a little spark of hope for the boy but then, he couldn’t be too sure. He refused the cocktail, saying that he should stop drinking for the night. He stressed that he needed to be sober by the end of the get-together to make sure you were alright. 

A call of your name brought you back to the game. The card you drew was a relatively easy one: post a picture with someone or something to your Instagram feed without editing with the caption, “you are the love of my life.” Patting Donghyuck’s sweater-covered arm, you requested his help, “Take a picture with me?”

“Am I the love of your life now?” He threw back, not denying the request. 

You handed your phone to the group’s respective Instagram boyfriend, Jaemin, and giggled. Maybe you shouldn’t have taken that last sip. You were far from drunk but a little past buzzed. “Why? You like the sound of that?”

“I like being called yours,” he flirted back.

“Shut up,” you scrunched your nose at him before turning your attention to the camera aimed at you. 

Jaemin, as expected, took a cute picture of the two of you. 

Donghuck was still draped over you, hugging you waist from behind with his chin resting on your shoulder. While you grinned happily for the camera, your hands covering his larger ones resting on your belly, your friend kept his soft stare on you. He wore a tender smile, honey dripping from his lips and his eyes. It looked like the perfect print for a couple’s Christmas card instead of a drunken dare and you knew this was a picture you wanted to keep on your feed, dare or not. You could always edit the caption at a later time.

Donghyuck continued to hover over you, watching your fast fingers type out the text. You waited together in silence as you hit post, waiting for the picture to upload. When the photo appeared on your feed, you turned your phone around to show the onlookers. Like the hype crowd they were, all your friends pulled out their own phones to like and comment on the post–the girls writing unhinged comments on your beauty or how Donghyuck stole you away from them while the guys drew attention to how long it took you to get together. You were sure the people who weren’t a part of your usual crowd would believe the caption on your post–after all, many often commented on how cute you looked as a couple. Without context, you were sure Mark would be pissed about how you didn’t tell him shit. 

“Alright, alright. It’s your turn, Hyuck,” you said.

“Let me run to the bathroom real quick and then I’ll draw.” 

Donghyuck finally let you out of his warm embrace, heading down the hallway of his apartment, leaving you with the rest of your friends. As soon as they heard the door shut, the group turned their heads towards you. They looked like predators, ready to pounce on their prey.

“Y’all really went at it,” Ari said, “you didn’t even come up for a breath.”

“I felt like I needed to leave the room,” Yeri added on.

“And I felt like I needed to gouge my eyes out,” Renjun dramatically rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t drunk enough for that.”

“You want to drink more?” Giselle perked up, already reaching for his shot glass. 

“Sit your ass down,” Renjun scolded while reaching for food,“I’m driving you home tonight so I’m tapping out.”

“Party pooper,” she argued.

“I mean I could drink more and we could crash here but do you want to stay with Y/N and Hyuck with all this sexually charged energy in the air?”

“Excuse me, what?” you spat out your drink, eyes enlarged as you processed Renjun’s words.

“You heard what I said,” Renjun snapped before turning back to Giselle, “if you’re fine with that, you’re on your own kid ‘cause I’m going home.”

Giselle gave you a once-over and then a sheepish smile. “Yeah, on second thought, maybe not.”

Not over what Renjun said, you whisper-shouted, “Sexually charged energy?”

“Oh please, if we didn’t stop you, you’d probably end up on Hyuck’s lap,” Karina said as she sat at the dinner table across from the island bar. You glared at her, taking in her current position. She shouldn’t even be the one talking; her bare legs rested on Jeno’s lap, her flesh covered by the fabric of his hoodie. You eyed the slight movement of Jeno’s large hand under the hoodie, how it caressed Karina’s thigh.

“Is he a good kisser?” Jaemin wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“You’re such a gossip,” you rolled your eyes.

“Well, is he?” Ari pushed, ganging up on you with her boyfriend.

Thinking back to the hot kiss you shared made you bite your lip. “No comment.”

“She didn’t deny it so that’s a yes!” Yeri stood up, pointing a finger at you. 

You fought the urge to bite it as a small rebellious act. Jeno tugged the end of Yeri’s sweater dress and yanked her back down to her seat. 

“He so wants you!”

“You say that like it’s new.”

What?  Where they implying that your best friend actually had feelings for you? “What do you mea–”

It was then Donghyuck returned from the bathroom. Your group went quiet as he approached, making the lot of you appear suspicious. “Were you dumb asses talking about me?”

“The world doesn’t revolve around you, Donghyuck,” you said while taking your oversized sweater off. 

Being in the hot seat while he was away got you all fired up–you had to find some way to cool you down. Finishing the game in your cropped bra top and skirt would be just fine. 

“Ouch,” the boy clutched his knit sweater right above his heart, the slight tug lifting the material. You caught a sliver of his gorgeous tanned skin and realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath. You swiftly reverted your eyes to the thin deck of cards on the countertop. 

When Donghyuck returned back to his position of hugging you from behind, you froze in your spot. His arms fell over your shoulders, fingertips grazing the flesh of your upper thigh and you did your best to keep it together. 

“Can you draw my card for me?” he asked you, his low voice directly in your ear. 

His warm breath and long hair tickled your neck and you shut your eyes closed. “Huh?”

“It’s too far and I don’t want to reach over you,” Donghyuck whined, his hands sliding up your arms to massage your shoulders. 

You gave into his wishes and reached for a new card. Donghyuck’s grip skimmed your sides, fingers digging into your hips to keep you steady while you leaned forward. His thumbs rubbed little circles on your back as you read the card aloud. “Take a body shot with a person of your choice or finish your drink,” you projected to the awaiting crowd. Fuck. 

Jaemin and Ari’s lips formed twin smirks, satisfied with their front row seats while you slowly piece together that particular dare. Donghyuck refused to let you out of his sight or grip. All partner tasks he had were done with you. Therefore, you would be his person of choice for this dare as well. Could your heart even take this?

Like clockwork, Donghyuck swiveled your chair to ask for your consent. His brown eyes dug deep into yours to check in on you. “You okay with this, princess?”

You gestured to the strong cocktail Ari made him. “Would you rather finish that strong concoction or take a shot? I know you said you wanted to stop drinking tonight.”

Donghyuck shook his head, his luscious hair flopping along with his movement. “Don’t do this because of what I said. That’s not what I asked. Are you okay with this–yes or no?” 

“I–” You were shy but you weren’t unwilling. This game had gotten you physically closer than any other attempts that were made. It gave you a little confidence when it came to Donghyuck’s physical touch. 

When Jaemin and Ari mentioned they had something up their sleeves, you didn’t think a little card game would get you this far. You couldn’t deny the rising tension between you and Donghyuck, especially how it skyrocketed during the many rounds of dares. Neither could you deny the gentler moments sprinkled in the middle of the more intense scenes of the wild night. If all of those moments were leading up to this, why run away from it? 

“Yeah.”

That was not what Donghyuck was expecting to hear. “Yeah?”

“Let’s do it,” you nodded bashfully. You turned to face your friends, feigning confidence, “We don’t have tequila so hand me some sugar and the apple mango soju.”

Sweet drinks weren’t really Donghyuck’s thing. He was more of a plain soju and beer person but while you were both out at a barbeque place earlier in the year, he mentioned that he liked the taste of apple mango flavor in passing. Months later and you remembered that little fact. Donghyuck bit back a grin. 

He reached out a hand towards you and you carefully placed your hand in his. Donghyuck helped you off your high stool, looking for a place to set you down. The island bar was filled with the food, drinks, and the card game so that wasn’t in the running. The dining table had all the white elephant gifts piled on top, so that wasn’t a choice either. 

His eyes landed on the low coffee table in front of the couch and led you to it, your hand clasped tightly with his. Your free hand held the bottle of soju, the sugar, and the shot glass. When no one was looking, you took a quick swig before seating yourself on the cold, glass surface. Donghyuck kneeled in front of you, wedged between your thighs. 

Your friends followed, jittery with excitement over what was going to unfold. They planted themselves behind the couch, keeping their distance. 

Handing him the sugar shaker, you braced yourself as his tongue licked a spot on your neck.  Fingers and toes curling at the sensation, you cocked your head to the side while he sprinkled a bit of sugar on your skin. You didn’t dare open your eyes until you felt him more than a breath away. Avoiding any sort of eye contact with your friends, you fixed your gaze on the person in front of you, pouring the alcohol into the glass. When Donghyuck finished, he looked up at you with parted lips and a glazed over stare. 

“Ready?”

Unable to spit out words, you felt your head move up and down. With your approval, Donghyuck placed one hand on your upper back, the other on your thigh, as he guided you down. You winced when the freezing glass met your skin. A gasp followed when the bottom of the shot glass rested on your bare stomach. 

The room was silent as Donghyuck placed his arms behind his back. You stared at the ceiling as he descended. Struggling to keep your inhales shallow to keep the shot glass upright, you dug your nails into the heel of your palm. Panic and arousal flooded your brain when you snuck a peek of his head in between your legs. First came the tickle of his long hair, then the puff of his breath. The sensations they caused ignited the fire within you and a wetness to leak into fabric, the one that was fueled by another person’s touch.

Donghyuck paused for a moment, peering up at you. Eyes locked onto his target, he kept a steady gaze as his mouth wrapped around the rim of the glass. The sight of him was too sensual, too debauched for your heart to take, you broke the connection and rested your head back on the glass table. A bit of the soju spilled on your stomach when he threw his head back to take the shot. You wanted to wipe the cold liquid with the hem of your skirt; however, Donghyuck beat you to it, his wet lips thoroughly slurping up the remainder. 

To end the dare, your best friend trapped you under him, his arms planted on either side of you. You instantly turned your head to give him more access. One of Donghyuck’s strong hands cupped your jaw to keep you in place as his tongue thoroughly traced the stripe of sugar until it was all gone. He started from where your shoulder met your neck, ghosting all the way up until his nose nudged your earlobe. Donghyuck caught the sharp gasp that escaped you, felt how your hand left crescent moons on his wrist.

One, two, three beats passed until Donghyuck retreated, the scent of his strong cologne whiffing past you as he pulled back. You released a trapped breath and grabbed hold of the hand he offered. Using his strength to bring you back up, your widened eyes met his. 

Unbeknownst to the two of you, your friends had already moved on from the dare and deemed their roles as matchmakers a job well done. They moved from their spots behind the couch and began clean up duty. Renjun placed all the used kitchenware and rinsed them in the sink. Giselle and Yeri threw away all the trash and clutter around the kitchen and dining room area. Jeno and Karina moved like two peas in a pod, working together to put away all the leftovers in the fridge. Jaemin and Ari gathered all the cards, disregarding the points earned, and placed them back in the box. No matter who earned the most points, it was clear who the winners were–you and Donghuck won the game and your prizes were each other. 

Even with the hustle and bustle happening throughout Donghyuck’s apartment, neither of you noticed, too entranced by each other. Donghyuck was completely under a spellbinding haze–the glazed over expression on your face, paired with your heavy breaths and your parted lips–that he just couldn’t help himself. Hidden by the back of your couch, no one witnessed how your crush broke himself out of his trance just to kiss you one more time. 

His lips, still damp with the alcohol that spilled from his messy drinking method, connected with yours. This kiss was slower than the one that took place earlier in the night. Slower but needier. You tasted the sweet soju as your tongues converged. Even with others in the room, who could catch you at any second, Donghyuck never increased the pace. He kept you there with him, warm hands holding your face, thumbs caressing your cheek and the back of your neck, as he lightly bit your bottom lip. 

Unable to control yourself, a quiet sigh broke free when his touch ran up to grab a handful of your hair. You instantly felt Donghyuck react to it. With that boost in confidence, his mouth formed a smirk and let out a breathless chuckle that left you desiring more of him. His hips rocked forward just once, something hard swiftly brushing against your privates, and it was enough for you to release a high-pitched mewl at the contact. When Donghyuck pulled away, his deep gaze was still locked on your puffy lips, now swollen from all the damage he’d done to you. Drawing back again, he took in the whole sight of you from his current spot, kneeling in between your spread legs. 

You were so breathless, chest heaving and body flushed with warmth. The stain on your lips was almost completely gone, what was left of it messily blotched around your mouth. Even if you reapplied it thirty minutes prior,  Donghyuck was almost one hundred percent sure it disappeared because it was smudged on him.

So breathless. So taken. So ruined. 

That was the word. You looked ruined and it was all thanks to him. 

Lee Donghyuck did that to you and he was damned proud of it. Even if nothing else stemmed from whatever this moment–this night–was, Donghyuck would take the overwhelming pride he felt to his grave. No other kiss, no other makeout session, and whatever followed would ever top this exact moment for him. 

You released a quiet giggle and swiped your thumb against his lips. He kissed it as you continued your ministrations, attempting to clean off the bright color that now painted his face. 

Would it be so bad of him if he told you to stop? Would it be okay for him to keep those stains, those little specks of you, on his skin? Was it shameless of him to ask? If it was too brazen, he’d do it anyway–Donghyuck would do anything to be at your mercy. 

“Hey, lovebirds, we’re heading out!” Jaemin called from behind the couch with Ari snuggled up at his side.

The two of you spun towards them and spotted all your friends gathered by the door. Yeri and Giselle were slipping on their shoes, using Renjun as balance as they stood on one foot. Jeno held Karina’s coat, fighting the blush that warmed his face while the girl of his dreams clung onto his arm. If you were in your right mindset, you would’ve commented on that but you were far from it. You were far from sober, too intoxicated not by the many drinks you consumed, but by all the kisses Donghyuck gave you. They were addicting in their own type of way–with his little suckles, licks, and nips. 

“You’re sleeping over, right?” Ari asked, “No need for us to take you home?”

In normal circumstances, you would sleep over with no other questions asked. It was an unspoken rule that you had every time Donghyuck and Mark hosted but this was different than the other times. You just kissed your best friend–the one you usually share a bed with–on multiple occasions throughout the night and there was some sort of invisible string drawing you back to him every single time you pulled away. Ari, as a faithful girl’s girl, was giving you a way out, an option if you didn’t want to take it any further. 

As you debated the choice that was given, Donghyuck continued to breathe you in. Although he had a certain look to him, with all the flirtatious methods he had under his belt, the boy was a one girl sort of guy and that girl would always be you. You didn’t know it but he was saving himself for you. 

To him, you were not another girl he could have a one-night stand with. You were the person he wanted to wine and dine, to take care of at the end of a long day. He wanted to shower you with his love, undying devotion, and kisses so sweet that could rival the taste of your favorite dessert. And yes, this was a risk–possibly the biggest one in his short lifetime–but out of all the risks he took tonight, this was the one Donghyuck was most willing to take. 

You faced Donghyuck, a silent inquiry in your features, as you thought it through. He cocked his head at you, “It’s up to you, princess. It’s okay if you don’t want to sleep over this time.” There was a sense of finality in his low tone, ready to accept whatever answer you were willing to give. 

There was the Donghyuck you knew and loved–always putting your comfort before his own. Even when his hardened state was centimeters away from the place it craved the most, Donghyuck maintained his distance out of respect for you. That alone made you want to stay with him, to explore where else the night could take you. 

You leaned forward and pressed your body against his. Resting your chin on his shoulder, you leaned your head on his and Donghyuck immediately coiled his arms around your exposed waist. 

“I’m gonna stay,” you notified the crowd. Turning so that your lips brushed against his sensitive ear, you whispered just for him to hear, “that’s okay, yeah?”

Donghyuck slammed his eyes shut at your whisper, tightening his limbs that settled around your middle. With his body still in between your legs, you locked him in place by crossing your calves against his back. Your core was now in direct contact with the cold metal of his belt and you shuddered. You sensed the contrasting warmth right below it as you shifted. “Yeah, yeah, it’s okay.”

You could barely maintain eye contact as your friends made their way out the door, “Get home safe, you guys! Text the chat when you get home!”

“Why should we? You’ll be too preoccupied to check,” Yeri yelled back as the front door flung shut.

“You think they’ll finally do it?” Giselle laughed as they all bolted down the stairs.

Karina turned back to face her friend, “Do what–fuck? Yeah.”

“Thank fucking God,” Renjun sighed, “I’m tired of seeing them look at each other like lovesick puppies.”

“They better get together after this or all our hard work was for nothing,” Jaemin scoffed. Ari, still stitched to his side as they stepped outside the complex, nodded in agreement.

“I just feel sorry for Mark,” Yeri winced as they made their way to their respective cars. She pulled out her phone to text the group chat—Mark wouldn’t see it until after his shift at the bar but at least it would act as fair warning. 

“Same,” Jeno agreed. He opened the door for Karina, allowing the girl to slide inside the passenger seat before shutting the door and making his way to the driver’s side. 

“He’ll live,” Jaemin laughed with no remorse whatsoever,“see y’all later.”

With their friends gone, they were truly alone. No one was left to bother them and the only thing to fill the silence was the Christmas playlist in the background. Donghyuck released out a deep exhale and nuzzled his way into the crook of your neck. His hands were splayed against your thighs, caressing all the bare skin he had direct access to. The feeling of his warmth was contradicting–it heightened your mood but also made you feel so incredibly safe. 

Deep in your heart, you knew that Donghyuck would accept whatever you had to offer. If that meant taking things one step further, then he would pursue the heartracing chase that has been going on all night, running you down with kisses and ministrations that would leave you weak in his clutches. But on the other hand, if it meant that you changed your pretty little mind and didn’t want anything to occur, he would take it like a champ and accept that too. 

Donghyuck’s subtle touches were light and sensual but never broke the barrier. He just held you, his touch sliding up from your knees to the top of your thighs, fingers skirting around the seams of your bottoms to the curve of your ass. His caress didn’t break through any layers, they just lingered as he continued to keep you in his hold. 

You were the one who crashed through the walls that were made. You were the one who called his name, making him turn his chin to face you. You were the one who looked at him so intensely before dipping down to steal another taste of his addicting mouth. And Donghyuck, with all his might, matched  your level of desire perfectly.

When your limbs encased him in your embrace, arms around his broad shoulders and legs locking around his hips, Donghyuck let out a miniscule noise and you took the chance to lick around his split lips. Your tongue snaked its way in, stroking the tip of his for a second, before teasingly pulling away. He prevented you from completely ending the kiss, his hand firmly gripping the back of your head. 

You sighed out his name, falling more and more into him, and that was it for Donghyuck. He stood up and carried you down the hall. When he stopped kissing you in the middle of the hallway, your brows furrowed and you pulled back in confusion. He wore a sneaky smile on his face as he gestured up with his eyes. 

“Mistletoe,” he chuckled.

“You’re impossible,” you said, turning away to smile. He was so impossibly cute. 

“What’s so wrong about wanting to kiss you under the mistletoe?” Donghyuck asked, cocking his head to meet your gaze again.

“Nothing.”

“Well then, if it’s nothing, then give me another kiss.”

The sweet and light touch quickly turned into something heavier, doused with all the longing you kept locked up deep in your heart. Donghyuck, with the same degree of desperation to love you, matched your intensity. Your back roughly hit the wall as he raised his knee to apply pressure on your center. The slight pain and the definite pleasure blended so well, you moaned loudly. He lifted his knee again to rip another noise out of you and your whimpers were almost too much for him to process.

“Hyuck?”

“Hmmm?” he hummed as he suckled at your neck.

You were practically sinking down the wall, immersing yourself in his kisses. “Room.”

“What?”

You pried him away from your bruising skin from all his nips and kisses to say, “Your room.” Dropping a kiss to his lips, you begged, “Please.”

Completely in sync, you reached for each other again for another round of urgent kisses. It was the blind leading the blind as Donghyuck stumbled through the narrow walkway to find his room. It would have been easier just to let up for a minute or two but the act of kissing him while desperately searching for his space was so incredibly hot. You were sure it was every girl’s dream to be so carnally wanted by someone to the point of never letting go. You were still processing that you were truly wanted this way by the guy who took up permanent residence in your brain.

You faintly heard the door open and close before you were dropped onto his mattress. You let out a surprise squeal at the unexpected action and he laughed as he slowly crawled over you.

Donghyuck always left his LED lights on even when he was out of the room. You scolded him each time he did it, lecturing him about saving energy, but this was the one time you didn’t. You were glad he left his purple lights on because now you were able to see how truly taken he was by you. 

The lights created a halo around his body and yours. Each of you took a moment to soak up your appearances–Donghyuck with purple lights outlining his lean body, light shadows not enough to hide the affection written all over his face and you with your hair spread across his bedsheets, chest heaving in anticipation, and dilated eyes looking up at him.

Your hands snaked up to the hem of his sweater, tugging at it. It was an unspoken question and Donghyuck answered it instantly, stripping himself of the one layer he had on. Unable to resist, your fingers danced across his bare skin, tracing the lines of his lean muscles. You’d seen him shirtless many times before but never like this. You never had him hovering over you with the feeling of desire coursing through your bloodstream.

Sliding your hands up, you tugged at his long hair to bring him closer to you and his arms faltered for a second. Donghyuck collapsed, dropping so that he rested on his knees and arms. The strands that you played with dangled across your forehead and you reached up to close the distance. 

“I’m going to ask you one more time before I can’t stop myself anymore,” Donghyuck whispered against your lips. “Do you want this?”

No hesitation. “Yes.”

He kissed your breath away, his hands resting against your ribs. Dogghyuck squeezed hushed sounds out of you as he stripped you of your crop top and bra all at once. His hands grasped your breasts, fondled them, while the open-mouthed kisses continued. They drifted from your mouth, his lips marking a path down your neck to your cleavage. Donghyuck teased your nipples with his hand and tongue, watching you writhe with each action he made. Your manicured nails scratched at his back as his licks and pinches quickened.

“God, you’re so–” Donghyuck lost his train of thought when your palm added pressure to the growing need in his pants. 

You struggled to get his belt off in between all his distractions. As soon as you did, your nimble fingers unbuttoned his pants and began to shove his tight jeans down his meaty thighs.

Donghyuck reluctantly ripped himself away from you to do the rest of the work. He did a sloppy job of it all, hopping here and there to wiggle out of his jeans but you didn’t care. You kept your eyes on him, your gaze raking from his head all the way down to the apparent tent in his boxer briefs. Crawling your way to the edge of the bed, you looked up at him while you tugged on the waistband of his last remaining layer.

“Don’t look at me like that, princess,” he groaned while you pulled him back towards you. Donghyuck was beyond ready to risk it all for you, no matter the consequences. Logic and friendship be damned.

“Like what?” You blinked slowly.

His hands went to your hair, tugging you up until you were at eye level with each other. The other arm coiled around your waist and pressed your bare, heaving chests together.“God, do you want to be kissed until you can’t breathe?” 

“By you? Please,” you pleaded again. Donghyuck gave in to you, protecting your head as the two of you fell back. He kissed you as your back hit the bed a second time, his tongue passing over every crevice in your mouth. He met his need to be closer to you by grinding his hips, an action you promptly followed. His hands and yours were in absolute synchronization as they tugged the remaining layers off. 

It seemed like all Donghyuck wanted to do was shower your entire body with his undying devotion, to show you how much he loved you. His lips skipped over the apex between your legs, kissed down your extremities, until he was off the bed with your garments in hand and haphazardly tossed them to the side. 

His hand wrapped around your ankle and dragged your body to the end of the bed. Your heavy breathing increased when you realized exactly what Donghyuck was up to. He shot you an animalistic grin as he dived in with a long lick to your velvet skin.

“Hyuck, oh my god,” you cried.

He sucked on one of your lips and then the other with the same amount of pressure. “Again.”

“What?”

“Say my name again.” This time, he swirled his tongue around your clit then added pressure with the tip. 

It pushed another winded call of his name out of you and you felt him smirk against you. Donghyuck traced your folds with one finger with a featherlight touch before it ventured inside your aching need. His digit slid right in and out, showing just how much you craved him. His eyes tracked how they eased into you, the sight never boring him in the slightest. 

Adding another finger made you even more vocal, as did his tongue playing with your clit. Donghyuck never let up. Even when your fingers tugged a little too tightly on his hair, or when you trapped his head in between your legs, he refused to surrender. Not when your sugary sweet voice kept calling for him. 

You grew hot, sweat forming on your skin, as he continued to drive three fingers into you with a speed and depth you could never replicate. The noises you made became more incoherent with each second that passed, Donghyuck couldn’t even process that you were calling his name. He was too into you, eyes rolled to the back of his head, moans buried into your skin. 

“Wait, wait–” you screamed, forcefully tugging his head away from you, even though you were teetering the edge.

Donghyuck was dazed, lips and chin drenched by your juices, as you commanded his attention. “D’you want to stop?”

Tears gathered around your waterline, threatening to fall, as you gathered yourself. “N-no but,” you gleaned at the clock on his wall, “Mark–”

Donghyuck possessively growled when his roommate’s name left your lips. He didn’t want to hear anyone else’s name when you looked so disheveled except his. “What about him?”

“He’s coming home soon. He can’t–” Hear us was what you wanted to say. 

Donghyuck, however, did not give you time to finish that statement. 

Shoving his three fingers back into you with determination, you heard the embarrassingly loud squelching noises over your whimpers. Donghyuck seemed into it, a madden and driven expression taking over his face, as he snarled back, “I’ve waited too fucking long to have you like this. I don’t care if he hears you–let him hear you. I don’t care as long as you’re mine.”

His fingers combined with his god-send of a tongue worked endlessly, never faltering, as they brought you higher and higher. Worries worlds away, all you could center on was the immense pleasure coursing through your entire being. Fingers curled around his hair and played with your breast while Donghyuck coerced more noises out of you. Your insistent jerking at his hair and squirming alerted him that you were almost there, you just needed a little more encouragement.

“Be a good girl and cum for me, baby,” he said before his tongue flicked tirelessly. 

The soft order mixed with the new nicknames and his brazen desire to make you come undone was too overwhelming, you had no chance of warning before it all came crashing down. Stars in your eyes, cries bubbling out of your mouth, and hands gripping onto anything within your reach, your whole body reaction was good but not enough to satisfy the greed Donghyuck had in him.

“You sound so pretty, so so pretty,” he whispered as he kissed your pulsing bundle. He stroked himself with a painstakingly slow pace, feasting on the way you lost yourself.

When you came to, you rushed to stake your claim on him. If he had his way with you, then you needed your time and space to do the same. Leading him onto the bed, you positioned him to lean against the bedrest and seated yourself on his thighs. His fingers sank into your ass, kneading your flesh until you rocked in time with his movements. And just when he thought it couldn’t get any better than that, your fingers gripped his lengthening cock and began to move. 

Paired with the hickeys you planted on his chest and neck, Donghyuck was at your complete and absolute mercy. When your tongue circled a nipple, he released a weak noise. Picking up on how much he liked it, you repeated the action on the neglected partner then kissed your way down to his hardened cock. When you held his gaze captive with your siren eyes, you descended, tongue running along the side of him. Your lips ghosted against the area, never engulfing him, to prolong the teasing. 

“Want you to sound pretty, too,” you said as you licked the cum off his tip. “Can you do that for me? Sound pretty?”

Donghyuck let out a small noise that you struggled to hear. 

Withdrawing your mouth, you allowed your hands to do the work. They bobbed up and down at a slow, menacing pace, twisting at the right times. When he grew louder, more desperate, you nosed and smirked against his length before giving him what he wanted. Hollowing your cheeks, you sucked lightly on the end before deep-throating him. Saliva dripped from your lips as you relax your jaw, his tip hitting the back of your throat.

The action shocked Donghyuck, overloading his nerves, heart, and brain that he almost lost all sense of self. The strong charisma he held while taking care of you disappeared, reduced to pathetic little moans and uncoordinated jerks of his hips. 

You heard through the grapevine that he was a verbal lover but you didn’t think he was that noisy. You didn’t mind it though, you took his whimpers and babbles as incoherent praises. Desperate mumbles of your name fired out of his lips and his hands yanked you away before he finished.  

“Sorry, sorry,” he said when his hands tugged harshly on your hair. His eyes were still closed as his lips covered yours. He lapped at your mouth, tasting himself, as he placed you on your back again. He nibbled at your earlobe, so near that he could hear your strained puffs. “Dreamed about this for years, waited too damn long. Can’t end like that.”’

“For years, baby?” You scratched his scalp.

His brown eyes rolled back. “Fuck, I love it when you call me that.”

“Baby?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck exhaled. “Again?”

A begging and pliant Donghyuck was a rare sight, you wondered how hard you could push.

“No,” you said firmly, a hint of a smile breaking through when you caught onto his frustration. 

When he bucked his hips, you clenched and resisted the urge to grind back. “Why not?”

“You’re cute when you beg.”

Donghyuck let out the loudest whine, grinding again. You coiled your legs around his hips, tightening them to lock him in place. Desperation leaking out of him, he continued his actions.  The friction caused by his cock rubbing against your folds was so delicious, you almost gave in. 

“You’re a tease,” he groaned deeply.

“No, that’s you.”

“Please,” Donghyuck’s voice sounded so strained. “I want to hear it again.”

Positioning your lips right by his ear, you gave into his request. “Baby.”

Donghyuck showed you just how much he loved that name by bringing your lips back together. His lower body pressed you against the mattress, hasty ruts making his cock slide against your folds. He blindly reached for his drawers, hand crashing against every surface to search for a condom. In his rush, things scattered about, making the task much harder than it should’ve been. He unwillingly separated from you to retrieve the wanted package and slid it on his fully hardened state.

Hushed, nervous giggles took over when Donghyuck inched towards you. He brushed your loose strands sticking to your cheeks away just so he could see your whole face, all flushed because of him. Placing a gentle peck on your lips, he positioned himself and pushed past the barrier of your folds. Donghyuck took his sweet, sweet time sinking deeper into you and your annoyance grew faster than his pacing.

“Hyuck,” you whined, your mind and body obsessing over the way he felt. His cock was girthy, definitely thicker than his three fingers, but just as long. Just one little thrust by him and he’d hit your spot and you were positive it would feel like heaven. You dug your heels into his back and he keeled. 

“Yeah?” He stilled when he was fully sheathed, breathing heavily at how your body clung onto him.

“Move,” you harshly whispered, pressing your heels again. The stretch he caused wasn’t an overbearing one, it was one you were more than ready to handle. You needed Donghyuck in all definitions of the word but he wasn’t budging. 

“I can’t,” Donghyuck choked when you clenched. You were so tight, affecting him too strongly with the tiniest movements, his mind was conflicted on what to do. A part of him wanted to linger and soak it all in, while the other wanted to lose all sense of control. “You feel so good.”

When you clenched around him again, Donghyuck folded. He never had a chance when it came to resisting you. In the past, he struggled whenever you batted your eyelashes at him or gave him the devilishly innocent puppy dog eyes. How was he supposed to resist your requests when he filled you up to the brim, skin pressed against skin, lips just breaths away from each other? He was at your beck-and-call to the greatest degree and this was the ideal situation to prove it to you. 

His first thrust was sudden, interrupting another request spilling out of your mouth. You choked out an elongated groan and it died in your mouth as he moved again. His pacing may have been slow but it was purposeful. You truly felt every little thing–from the way he drew back to the way your body sucked him back in. A part of you wished to get rid of the condom, so you could make out how the ridges and veins swept your walls, but you knew this was the safer, more logical option. (Plus, there was always the next time.)

Your matched rhythm increased as time passed, sounds of skin slapping and pathetic whines echoing within his room’s four walls. His deep plunges hit the target every-time, his cock directly adding a divine pressure to your g-spot and in response, your nails created dents and scratches on his beautifully tanned skin. Your hands explored every crevice of his body, dragging trails down his chest, arms, and abs. His lips traversed the expanse of your neck and collarbone, before coming back to capture yours in messy kisses.

And when you broke away from his kisses to let out neverending whimpers, Donghyuck knew that you were close. His hand lifted one of your legs over his broad shoulder and that new angle alone made you grip and thrash around the sheets. Your motions were frantic at this point, his hips operating at a relentless pace that you could barely chase. His hands on your hips alleviated you of most of the work, your body too spent in the blaring white, starry-eyed high he was providing. 

His fingers reaching down to pinch your pulsing clit was the final move before you came crashing down. Ecstasy rippled through you and once again, he milked out your cum until your body trembled with aftershocks. He pulled out then, his large hand rushing to finish himself off. 

As you were slowly descending from your high, your one thought was to return the generous favor. Donghyuck jerking himself off to completion didn’t sit right with you. Hazingly, you crawled over to him and swatted his hands aside. The boy was lost in confusion at your actions but it all became crystal clear to him when your face plummeted to his now bare cock, the condom disregarded somewhere on his bed. 

Donghyuck’s tip quickly hit the back of your throat as your hands fondled whatever could not fit. He didn’t last much longer, his groans reaching new heights in volume and his once flourished moves turning into an uncoordinated state of frenzy. Donghyuck, with his tight grip loosening through your hair, said your name once more. His mouth slackened and the long-awaited bliss ultimately reached its peak. 

A familiar room welcomed you as you opened your eyes the following morning. You blinked away the sleepiness, adjusting to the light that peeked through the blinds. The clock on the wall read eight thirty in the morning, otherwise known as too early to be awake after drinking the night away. Slumber was calling your name but so was your stupid bladder. You unwillingly wiggled out of his embrace, watching and giggling as his body adjusted to the empty space beside him. 

You muttered complaints about the cold in your head as you trudged to the bathroom, picking up Donghyuck’s knit sweater as another layer of heat on the way. While you were up, you took care of your usual morning routine–washing your face with Donghyuck’s skin care products, drying your skin with the towel set he always left for you, and brushing your teeth with the toothbrush that stood right next to his. 

The domesticity of it hit differently the morning after you were intimate with your best friend. Something in the air had changed and you hoped it was for the better. A small part of your heart, the one that was so incredibly smitten with him,  worried Donghyuck would view their night together as a one-time thing. Another part of you, however, believed the words he uttered last night. After all, he said he waited too damn long for this. That had to mean something, right? 

You quickly nestled back into the sheets, shifting until the blankets were up to your shoulders. The shirt Donghyuck dressed you in was big and comfortable but the thin fabric wasn’t enough to keep warm throughout the night. Neither was the sweater you threw on. Your preferred source of heat was inches away, his body scorching despite being shirtless. 

Donghyuck groaned as you attempted to make yourself comfortable. His arms snaked around your middle, spooning you just like he did the night before. His face dug into the back of your neck, his nose prodding the sliver of skin not covered by your bedridden hair. His low morning voice, the complete opposite of the higher pitch he used around the group, made your heart plummet.“Why did you leave me?” 

“I was gone for five minutes.”

“Five minutes too long, princess,” he whined, his fingers skimming up and down your thighs.

“You’re so needy.”

This touch rose at a snail’s pace. He brushed your underwear then moved underneath your clothes to rest his palms on your stomach. “No, I just missed you.”

“Yeah, needy,” you retorted playfully, turning to face him. 

The fond smile on your face matched the expression on his and you kissed him softly. He gave you a second kiss and then a third that allowed you to get lost in him. You noticed and enjoyed every little thing he did–his hands dragging your hips to meet him, the sound caught in his throat when your leg wraps around his middle, his tongue lovingly caressing yours. 

Donghyuck reluctantly broke away from you, trying to create some distance. He grew a little self-conscious upon tasting the fresh mint on your lips. Covering his mouth, he said, “Wait, shit. Morning breath. Let me just—”

“Don’t care,” you muttered, straddling him so he couldn’t escape your clutches. You pulled him back in, smothering your best friend with all the kisses he deserved. You left one on each of his eyes, the pretty beauty marks sprinkled across his face, and over the hickeys you littered across his golden skin. 

He chuckled in between kisses, “Who’s the needy one now?”

“Shut up, you loser,” you rolled your eyes with fake annoyance.

“I thought I was your baaaaaby,” he teased, palms running up and down your sides. You paused at that and Donghyuck noticed. “Hey, what is it? Did I say something wrong?”

“No, it’s just–” 

You released a drawn out breath. 

“You’re thinking a little loud,” Donghyuck’s voice let up, his concern slipping through his words. He cupped your cheek and your eyes met. “But not loud enough for me to hear your thoughts. Wanna let me into that pretty mind of yours?” 

You basked in the way his thumb strokes your cheek so gently and the stars that were shining in his eyes. Lee Donghyuck was many things—a hard worker, a flirt, intelligent, caring, hilarious, a pain-in-the-ass, a brave soul. The list went on and on. He wore many crowns and carried many titles but the one title he did not claim was being yours. 

Donghyuck was your best friend but he wasn’t officially yours. And you wanted him to be. 

In your bright and rose-colored eyes, Donghyuck was a risk-taker. He took the risks he wanted to last night to get you in his bed. But was that all there was to it? The part of your heart that doubted his actions and feelings took over your thoughts, the questions picking at you with no avail.

If Donghyuck could take risks, then why couldn’t you? Channeling the confidence your best friend usually carried, you asked, “Do you need me the way I need you, Hyuck?” 

You reached for the hand resting on your cheek and brought it back down to his bare chest. Fingers interlacing, the back of your hand picked up on his heart pulsating rapidly against his chest. 

As if sensing the doubt in your head, he tasked himself to send the negative musings away. Donghyuck didn’t answer your question directly but the words spilling out of his mouth were more than enough for you. “You are the only dream that fills my head—nothing else but you.” He said your name so tenderly, your heart grew three times—no, a million times—too big. At this point, the muscle and the smile that you wore bursted at the seams. 

Donghyuck laid out his cards in this game of love and it was time to reveal your hand. You squeezed his hand tightly as an act of courage and then took the leap of faith. “I like you,” you blurted out, “so much. Sometimes too much that it hurts.” 

Amused and overjoyed by your confession, Donghyuck rushed up to kiss you. His lips pressing against you so suddenly caught you off guard, you lost your balance in the act. “You are so fucking cute, I don’t know what to do with you,” he muttered in between pecks that made you laugh aloud. 

“Date me?” you suggested with a shy smile. 

“Princess, I’m going to date the hell out of you, just you wait.” 

His kisses eventually subdued and you found yourselves laying on your sides facing each other. No words were exchanged as your heads rested on their respective pillows. You were happy when his words never stopped flowing and when you stared in silence with matching grins. 

You watched Donghyuck’s face contort into one of concentration, his fingers rising above his head to count something, before he turned back to you. “We’ve spent seven Christmases together—”

“Oh yeah?”

“—and this one is definitely my favorite.” 

His confession was beyond sweet, it’s honey dripping out of his mouth. Over the years, Donghyuck wiggled his way into your holiday traditions. There was a lot you’d done over the years, from ice skating to gingerbread houses to movie marathons and impromptu snowball fights. Many of those moments were core memories you kept dear to your heart. Donghyuck admitting this meant a great deal to you and the space your heart had for him increased tenfold. Your heart was now completely his. 

Although they drove you insane with their obvious scheme, you thanked the meddling kids you called friends and their stupid game in your head. After all, they were the ones who encouraged you to risk it all in an extremely unserious and unconventional way.

With that being said, the risks the game of life had to offer were terrifying. They were difficult. If you never took them, they would forever leave you pondering about the road not taken. But when you did take them, risks big or small, they were always worth it. 

Kissing Donghyuck sweetly on the lips, you replied, “It’s my favorite too.” 

(01:27) Yeri: i’m so sorry marky  (01:29) Jeno: ditto (01:29) Jeno: f’s in the chat for mark (01:30) Karina: f (01:30) Renjun: f (01:30) Yeri: f (01:30) Ari: f (01:31) Giselle: fffffff (01:32) Jaemin: shut up, he’ll be fine (01:45) Yeri: I’ll leave my extra key under my mat if you wanna crash somewhere else, just got home (01:50) Giselle: home, gnite everyone (01:51) Ari: we just got home too, night night <3 (01:55) Jeno: home, rina’s here too (01:56) Yeri: oh??? (01:56) Karina: shut up (02:35) Mark: wtf i just got home, why are you sorry (02:35) Mark: what happened (02:36) Mark: bro hold up i hear noises from hyuck’s room, who else did you invite?? (02:36) Mark: did y/n get sexiled??? where is she??  (02:36) Mark: she’s not in my room, i thought she was sleeping over?? (02:37) Mark: wait—OH MY GOD YOOOO WTF IS THAT Y/N IN HIS ROOM  (02:37) Mark: …oh my god that’s her let’s GOOOOOO (02:38) Mark: omf they’re so loudddddd dude wtfffff (02:38) Mark: fml yeri im coming over 

AUTHOR'S NOTE. I know it's past Christmas now but I hope you enjoy this holiday fic. It ended up being longer than I thought it was going to be but it's done! My first full fic in quite a bit. The games and hilarity that ensue in this fic are based on one of my drunk game nights with friends. Every time I hang out with this group, something inspires me--we're like sitcom worthy at times lol. Fic worthy even. I hope you all enjoy it and let me know what you think.

Happy Holidays and Happy 2024! <3

TAGLIST. @nctsworld @johtenrecs @emmybyeakitty @sokkigarden @hyuckworld @baekhyuns-lipchain @yutaholic-main @moonctzeny @suhnnyskiess @smileysuh @everloving-avenue @justalildumpling @tywritesstuff @mikalovesicecream @carelessshootanonymous @emvrd @taelme @fairyiene @dreamy-carat @smwhrinthehaze

© sehunniepotwrites, 2023

[muzansfangs]

His kink.

Starring: Nanami Kento x f!reader; Toji Fushiguro x f!reader; Sukuna Ryomen x f!reader;

Format: short-imagines;

Warnings: nsfw, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, use of pet names, handcuffing the partner, anal sex, implied size kink, praising kink, jealousy, breeding kink, mention to pregnacy, language, dirty talk, hair pulling, dom!Sukuna, dom!Toji, dom!Kento, vaginal fingering, oral sex (reader!receiving), overstimulation;

Plot: You would do anything for your man. Even crossing some lines, allowing him to have the full control over your body. The moment you tell him to show you his kink, you watch in awe as his face lights up in delight and your body becomes a canvas for him to paint. Are you ready for him?

PART ONE | PART TWO.

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Nanami Kento.

Creampie and breeding.

His teeth ripping the condom open made your thighs quiver, your legs spread wide opened in front of him as you stared at Kento in untainted lust. You were soaked, your clitoris throbbing in need, your hips bucking up in anticipation while he kept an intense eye-contact with you. How badly he desired you. You drove him nuts without even trying. If only you could know how desperately he wanted to breed you, to make you his completely, to mark you as his property.

Kento almost felt disgusted by his own thoughts, at times. He had such a high consideration of you. He kissed the ground you walked on, he cherished you as a rare diamond set in a emperor’s crown in a museum. You were not an object to him, you were the love of his life, the only thing worth fighting for. Yet, he could not help himself, but desire ardently to mess you up, to leave something his into you as a reminder of who you belonged to.

Rolling the condom over his length, eyebrows knitted together as a soft groan escaped his lips, Kento flicked his gaze towards your midriff. Splaying his hand over it, he gripped your hip with his other one and made sure to glide his cock down your slit. The pinkish head tapped onto your swollen clitoris, ripping a whimper out of your throat. It was too much, you needed him and you needed him now, at his worst.

Tired of not being able to experience the hedonistic feeling of raw contact, you spoke out in a desperate plea “Take off the condom”.

Your workaholic boyfriend froze solid, eyes boring into yours in pure awe, his cock twitching at the mere thought of nestling into your warm, wet cavern without any barrier to prevent his seed from spurting into you. His jaw was clenched, his head dipping down to nose your cheek reassuringly. He would have never done anything without your consent, let alone something so deranged, unhinged, so forward as asking for unprotected sex.

“Are you sure about it?” he quietly asked you, while your hand shot up to play with the base of his hair at back of his neck.

“I know what I want” you replied confidently, your tone dripping arousal and confidence. That was the last straw.

Kento raised back on his knees, a small smile creeping on his lips as he lost the last shred of self-control coursing through his veins. Unrolling the condom from his member, he loomed back over you, hands cupping your cheeks to involve you into a sloppy, passionate kiss that made your toes curl. You were his, in the most intimate and depraved way possible, you were his and his alone.

The moment you felt the head of his cock rub down your folds, you arched your back at the contact. Your juices coated his flesh, guttural groans rambling from somewhere deep into his chest, as you wrapped your legs invitingly around his waist to pull him even closer, to tell him you wanted it for real.

Flicking his gaze up to you, Kento pushed past your folds, the girthy head of his cock splitting your walls gradually apart, forcing them to adjust to the intrusion. He grunted, the feeling of your pussy clamping down onto him so delicious as you squeezed his length with every passing second. Kento almost faltered, the dim fear of not being able to last enough to please you both making him grit his teeth as he finally bottomed out.

You let out a strained moan, his pelvis squashed against yours, as you fluttered your eyes shut to enjoy the feeling and relax your muscles. As per usual, he took his sweet time in letting you getting comfortable enough to begin.

“You are so perfect” he murmured, kissing the tip of your nose as he rolled his hips slowly to earn another breathy moan from you.

You were ready, your were so ready for it as your hands glided down his muscular back, tracing the outline of his flexed muscles as you brought your lips close to his ear “Fuck me now. Fill me up, please” you whispered, lips grazing against the shell of his ear.

You were playing with fire.

Kento groaned, eyes closing, as he exhaled through his nostrils in a futile attempt to tame the ravenous beast inside him, roaring, champing at the bit of devouring you wholly to the bone.

“Don’t tempt me, love” Kento whispered, planting a chaste kiss over your parted lips. The action was paired by his suave way of pulling out of you, until just the tip was left buried into your clenching hole.

Shooting a languishing glance at him through your half-lidded eyes, your legs tightened around his waist and you opted for running your fingers leisurely through the blonde strands of his hair, tugging at them right before pronouncing the words he needed to stop fighting his own urges “Give me your seed” you calmly, soothingly said, watching in awe how your beloved man swallowed forcefully before burying his face onto the crook of your neck.

That was it.

Slamming his hips back onto yours, you whimpered, arching your back in pleasure and an ounce of pain. His hands rested at each side of your head, his knuckles turning pale as he thrusted into you with a rough, steady pace, eyes closed to focus on the squelching sound of his cock gliding into your wetness.

You moaned for him, inner walls spasmodically clenching around his length, as he pushed you closer to your climax with each stroke he gifted you with. Sweat beaded his forehead, the bed creaking under you both, as he suddenly grasped your jaw roughly to bring your face close to his one. You had never seen him this hungry for you, this feral.

“I’m going to fill you up, alright? I’ll fuck a baby into you tonight. Mine, you are all mine” he rasped out darkly, making your body shudder as you nodded your head in pure ecstasy.

Sticking up to this oath, Kento grasped your thighs, hips snapping down onto yours in urgency as he chased his own orgasm. Despite that, he still made sure you were fine, his eyes scrutinizing your face in search for any signs of discomfort, reluctance, fear. All it would have taken for him to stop and pull out of you was just a mere shadow of regret on your face. But when he found none of that, he simply captured your lips with his ones in a tender kiss, before burying himself deep into you and letting his sperm whiten your insides.

The action was so powerful that you moaned into his mouth, climaxing with him as your body enjoyed the bliss he had just introduced you to.

Panting, you stared up into his eyes, shimmering in sheer lust and love. You could read it all over his face, he was glad to have you, he was glad to love you.

Nanami Kento was glad to have finally made you his permanently.

Toji Fushiguro.

Handcuffing and overstimulation.

The clink of the shiny, metal handcuffs your boyfriend had bought yesterday being jiggled in front of your face made your cheeks heat up and you bit down onto your lower lip in anticipation. Your heart was thumping into your chest so hard you thought it was going to jump out of your chest, breaking your ribcage and running wild into a field of depravation and unknown shapes of pleasure.

Sex with Toji was unique. You had always been the adventurous and experimental type and his suggestions never failed to amaze you. Sometimes, you almost felt inexperienced compared to him, but it was all part of the game. You relationship was not a conventional one anyway. Expecting him not to lean on the freak side among the bedsheets would have been a self-evident mistake. Now, fully naked and kneeling onto his bed, you stared up at him with excitement and curiosity twinkling in your eyes.

“You’re under arrest, doll” your boyfriend jested, watching as you laid down and raised your wrists above your head, allowing him to slap the cold cuffs that would have bound you to the bedhead for only God knew how long.

You smiled up at him, quirking your eyebrows up in defiance, while he made sure you were capable of freeing yourself with a violent tug of your arms “May I know the reason behind it?” you asked him, albeit you perfectly knew what you had done to make him lose his temper. He had never really shown you his extreme kinks, not until now. But it was about time you learned not to mess up with him.

Toji’s wolfish grin was enough to make you realize how much you had screwed up this time, his tongue swiping over his lower lip to moisten it before he spoke our “Flirting with Shiu in front of me, purring in his ear like a goddamn cat in heat while I was in the back of the bar to fulfill the mission is rude, don’t you think, sweetheart?” he cooed, cocking his head to the side in a mixture of contempt and amusement.

You were in for a long, draining ride and no one was going to come to your rescue.

With your legs spread in front of him, pussy glistening under the dim light provided by the lamp on the nightstand at your right, you displayed the most innocent smile you could muster but surely not an apology “What can I say? I was bored and you were taking your sweet time in beating up that drunk shithead. I figured you needed a little push to finish the job and take me back home” you explained, watching as Toji laid flatly onto his stomach, hauling your thighs over his large shoulders.

He sighed, hot breath fanning your core, as he nuzzled his nose against your clitoris, enjoying the way your breath hitched and you instinctively tensed up, the cuffs preventing you from grabbing a fistful of his hair as you always did when he gave you oral.

“Such a little minx” he taunted you, darting his tongue out of his mouth lick a stripe down your folds. You were soaked, your walls clenching around nothing, after being edged for nearly one hour.

As you gazed down at Toji, his lips wrapping around your throbbing clitoris, sucking, nibbling, swirling his tongue around it to elicit sinful moans from you, your thighs squeezed his head unintentionally. Tears of pleasure brimmed in your eyes, chest raising and falling erratically, as he used his fingers to spread your labia.

“So wet for me, baby, huh?” Toji mockingly noted, before resuming his relentless attack on your bundle of nerves.

Electricity rushed through your body, little whimpers and whines uncontrollably rolling down your tongue and pampering his ego even more. Only Toji was capable of messing you up like that, to reduce you to a writhing mass of moans and sweat.

Your mouth hanging opened, his fingers curled into you, stimulating the spogy spot into your that made your back arch, lifting off of the mattress. He was purposefully aiming to break you, therefore you decided to push his limits as well.

“No, it’s not for you… It’s for Shiu” you taunted him, lower lip wobbling for the overstimulation he was putting you through.

You heard Toji scoff, before he plunged a third finger into you, scissoring them into you unforgivingly. Maybe you should have clamped your mouth shut, maybe you should have not agreed in letting him restrain your hands, but you were so delightfully overwhelmed in that very moment that you were debating wether or not to beg for forgiveness.

His eyes had darkened, his breath heavy as he dragged orgasm after orgasm from you. Toji did not care about the sheets getting drenched, or the fact that you were now babbling out a series of incoherent words, no, he only cared about asserting his dominance over you.

“I guess we’re done with that. But now it’s time to properly fuck some sense into you, baby. Let me fill that tight, slutty hole of yours” Toji eventually croaked out, a crooked smile adorning his scarred lips as all you could do was nodding your head and panting.

The moment his cock prodded at your leaking opening, you were ready for him once again and your desire set your heart abalze.

Safe word? Oh no, you did not need one. Defintely not.

Ryomen Sukuna.

Anal and hair pulling.

Sex with him was extrasensorial. Sometimes, he joked about how he was almost scared to crash you in the process, how he thought his cock would not fit into you, or the fact that if he was not overly careful he would have ended up splitting you in half. However, he loved the size difference between you two. You were so small compared to him and his large, calloused hands cupped your hips perfectly.

But the words he spoke frequently jarred with his actions.

Manhandling you in bed was an art he had crafted with maniacal carefulness. Possessing you, your soul, your body was his main purpose. Now, with his fingers tangled in your hair, tugging at the strands harshly to make you arch your back, you knew that what you had agreed to do was going to leave you sore for days, possibly a week. But this was how far you would go for love, for him, for satisfying his needs. Being his ‘good little girl’ was your natural predisposition. Or so he claimed.

“Damn, you’re hot like that. — he chimed, hands unceremoniously spreading your ass cheeks to check on your puckered hole — Fuck, I still can’t believe your ex did not pop that cherry” he sarcastically commented, smearing some lube over your entrance and applying some of it on his length as well.

“He asked for it. I just refused” you replied, glancing at him from above your shoulder.

His shit-eating grin made your stomach flip and you sank your foreteeth into your bottom lip to prevent yourself from squirming. You were excited, you really were, but his size had always been quite challenging to take. It did not matter how many times he had penetrated your pussy, or your stretched your throat, you always needed quite a bit to adjust your body to the impressive girth. The idea if that cock invading your most delicate and private area scared you a little.

“Damn, then the bastard would definitely be upset, if he found out his former chick has changed her mind for me” he proudly asserted, lining up his cock with your tight hole.

Your breath hitched and you did not get the opportunity to properly answer him, a pained, strained moan ripped from your throat as he began to gradually push the tip into you. Your knuckles whitened as you gripped the bedsheets in front of you so tightly you were ready to bet your head they were going to rip into shreds. Your eyes watered, you batted your lashes a few times to clear your vision, as he stopped and rubbed soothing circles on your hips with his thumbs.

It was so unlike him to be that caring. There was something in the way he gave you space, time to adapt to the new activity, to let yout body both enjoy the pleasing sensation and the painful stretch.

“Breathe, babe. We’re in no hurry. Relax” he tried to calm you down and you rested your forehead down onto the pillow to try and bid your body to follow his suggestion. You could do it, you really could and Sukuna had no problem in taking it slow for once.

“Fuck, you are drop dead gorgeous like that, you know? You are already doing so good for me” he praised you then, his tone dripping a confidence that made you smile through the barbed experience of the hour.

Taking a deeper breath, you hummed and glanced at him, turning your head enough to let him see you were alright “Go ahead. I can take it… I can” you reassured him, a faint but genuine smile gracing your lips as he squeezed your hips reassuringly and leaned forward to plant a kiss on the base of your neck.

“That’s my motherfucking woman” he rasped out, before proceeding in thrusting in more, grunting as he watched his member being perfectly swallowed inch by inch by you.

It took a while for the pain to subside, it being your first time playing a major role in the way things played out. He had used enough lube and he had even fingered you a little before doing the deed, yet, his size was not easy to accomodate to. Once he had began to thrust into you, moans of pleasure and whimpers began to take over. The dull pain was still there, but it was definitely worth it.

Sukuna knew what he was doing and you trusted him, holding his hand figuratively as he fucked you to oblivion. Jumping into the unknown scared you, but you had taken the leap and it was perfect.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Here we are with the first part of a project that had been haunting me for months now. The second part, which includes Suguru Geto, Hiromi Higurma and Satoru Gojo,has been posted! As per usual, likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!

Until next,

x o x o

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