#this was an absolute joy to read through and i love all of it v much !! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

here2bbtstrash · 2 years

Text

crybaby (explicit)

genre: all pwp all smut babeyyyyyy

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: your boyfriend has always mixed his pleasure with pain.

word count: 4.3k

contains: explicit sexual content!!!!!! like that's the whole fic lmao 😵‍💫 established relationship, marathon sex, wrist restraints/bondage, cocky yet eager sub!jungkook 🥵, soft dom!reader but she can be a lil tough, clothed tit play, objectification, she calls him bunny which i think is cute 🥺, spitting, dick riding, unprotected sex, fingers in mouth, humping/grinding, jk has a nipple piercing 🙈, overstimulation/multiple orgasms - for both of them hehe, vibrator use, jungkook (and reader!) pushing himself to his limits bc..... he's jungkook, he cries 🥲, reader finds it hot 👀, a lottttt of sweat & cum lol, cum licking/eating, blowjob, maybe some subspace if you squint, winners never quit 💪, talk of coming dry at the end, jk is kind of a little shit lmaooooo - alright i think that's it 😩

A/N: not me barely managing to get this up before the ticket sales start 😅 happy hunger games to y'all who have codes!!! this fic is a birthday gift to my love, my angel, my cunning linguist @moni-logues 💜 HAPPY (yesterday) BIRTHDAY bb, can't wait to marry you on our first date, it is the joy of my life to build castles in the air with you~

and god bless jk for his lives the past few weeks bc they breathed so much life into this regular degular "sub!jk" fic idea. i'm v obsessed with his personality and the way he always pushes himself "just a little more", whether it's in staying up til 5 am singing karaoke on his couch or giving his absolute all in a workout. just so in love with our bunny tbh, so i hope you enjoy this spicy version of him too!! 🥰

read on AO3!

~*~

You know your boyfriend has always mixed his pleasure with pain.

He stays up late even when he’s exhausted, likes to do his workouts to failure, could spend hours in a tattoo session with the needle pressed to his skin and his bones humming from the buzz. Always holding out for as long as he can, always wanting just a little bit more before he calls it quits, even when it’s hard, even when it hurts. Because he wants to test his limits.

And today, you want to test them, too.

That’s why you text him to meet you in the bedroom, let him find you in nothing but one of his oversized Carhartt shirts, kneeling up on the bed as you affix a pair of purple silk restraints to the headboard.

There’s the soft creak of the mattress from Jungkook’s added weight, and you feel the heat of him as he crowds you from behind, hands dragging up the curve of your hips and taking the hem of your borrowed shirt with it.

“This was the emergency, huh?” The low murmur of his voice is chased by the cool touch of his lip ring as he drags his mouth up the nape of your neck. A blossom of arousal starts to unfurl in your core. “Wanted to use these?”

“Yeah,” you answer, feigning nonchalance as you give the silk a firm tug to test that it holds. Satisfied, you let yourself sink back into Jungkook’s touch, dropping your head against his shoulder and smiling when he leans down to brush his lips over yours. He hums a soft little sound into your mouth.

You cup your hand to the nape of his neck when you pull away to finish the thought. “Thought we could try them on you.”

The words are seemingly all your boyfriend needs to hear; he drops down onto the mattress so hard that he bounces a little. You can’t help but laugh at the way he scrambles to strip out of his sweatshirt, like he’s being timed, then hurriedly centers himself on the pillows, eyes glinting dark with desire.

When you first started talking to Jungkook, everything about him made you expect that he would be the one to call the shots. The good looks, the tattoos and piercings, the muscles— and definitely the motorcycle. But once you’d sat across from him at dinner on your first official date, only to watch him blush and fumble his way through a conversation, you started to suspect that maybe he preferred to follow rather than lead.

That thought was certainly confirmed the next time you saw him out in public: it’d been a full two weeks since your first date, with nothing but radio silence between you since. You were admittedly maybe a little too drunk when you spotted him out with his friends at the same bar you’d been dragged to by yours— drunk enough to have no problem walking right up to him to read him for filth, in front of all of his friends, for ghosting you.

Except he’d just blinked those big brown eyes up at you, mouth dropped open in disbelief, and quietly admitted that he’d been waiting all this time for you to text him.

One of his friends had clapped him on the back, laughing loudly as he corroborated Jungkook’s confession. “He’s been having midnight karaoke pity parties because he never heard from you. Please take this boy out again before his neighbors have him evicted!”

That night told you everything you needed to know about how the dynamics in your relationship would work out. That if you wanted something, there was a very good chance Jungkook wanted it, too.

Which is why it doesn’t surprise you that your boyfriend is already sprawled out half-naked on the bed beneath you, arms folded behind his head in a way that makes his biceps bulge, dangerously attractive.

His mouth pulls into a cocky, flirtatious grin. “Ah, so you wanna use me?”

“I do,” you murmur, straddling your thighs over his torso and leaning up to take the smooth purple silk between your fingers. He offers you one hand before you even have to ask for it, and takes advantage of the other’s last few minutes of freedom to paw at you over your shirt. His tattooed fingers seek out your breast and squeeze, his thumb flicking lazy strokes over your nipple.

You tug the knot of the restraint to tighten it, then look back just as Jungkook closes his lips around the clothed bud of your breast. The rough drag of cotton against your sensitive skin makes you hot all over, your nipple stiffening easily at the rub of his insistent tongue.

“How’s that? Too tight?”

He smirks with your tit still in his mouth, soaking a wet spot into your shirt, teeth scraping gently. “Could be tighter.”

“You are such a show-off,” you huff, more endeared than aggravated as you redo the knot, this time as tight as you can manage. Jungkook pulls against it teasingly, but it does actually seem to hold him in place, and you can feel a dull thud between your legs at the flex of his muscles on full display, the image of him already half-helpless beneath you.

“I’m Jeon Jungkook,” he says, as if in explanation, giving your breast a final playful jiggle before you tug his other hand off to tie it up, too.

“Well, Jeon Jungkook,” you retort with a smirk and a grunt of effort as you lean over him to tug the knot tight. You glance down to find him already using the leverage of his restraints to pull himself up so that he can continue to nuzzle his face into your shirt between your tits, abdominals shaking a little from the effort, undeterred despite the loss of both of his hands.

You take his jaw in your grip and scoot yourself further down his body, dipping in to plant a kiss on his soft lips.

“Are you gonna be a good little toy for me?”

“Uh-huh,” he grunts, and you enjoy the tease of hovering just past where he can reach, watching him strain up toward your mouth to seek another kiss and fall ever so short.

You can feel arousal already dripping from your folds as you slide further down the bed, slipping off from on top of Jungkook to easily rid him of his joggers and briefs. His dick smacks against his stomach, thick and hard; wet, too, at the pretty brown tip. You toss his clothes over the edge of the bed, then strip your own shirt to follow before lowering yourself between his spread legs.

The muscles in Jungkook’s thighs tighten with visible anticipation as you hover above his cock, letting the heat of your breath fan out over him, not unlike the warm afternoon air leaking in through the cracked bedroom window, the first taste of spring. You can hear the wet clicks of Jungkook’s tongue in his mouth.

“Easy, bunny,” you murmur, and then you work up a mouthful of saliva and spit it right onto the head of his dick.

He hisses in a breath at the splatter of it, then gasps a soft little sound when you take him in your hand to slip your fist down the length of him. That’s Jungkook all over; always so eager, always so sensitive.

“What do you think?” you muse, your mouth ticking up as you feel Jungkook’s hips roll into your grasp. “Think it’s ready for me, baby?”

“‘Sready,” he grunts, teeth clenched. “Use it, jagi.”

You waste no time, crawling back up Jungkook’s body to settle your hips over his, flattening your palms against his chest. He’s still squirming, thighs flexing against the bed as he rocks up in a desperate attempt to find the wet heat of your cunt, and you giggle as you work yourself backwards until the head of his dick catches on your entrance.

It’s a bit of a stretch, but you’re wet enough to take it. You bite down on a smug smile as you manage to seat yourself on him hands-free.

“Fuck, love when you do that.” Jungkook’s voice is a low growl, and you slide a hand up the firm definition in his chest and slowly start to rock yourself along his length. His cock fills you up like he was made for it; you can feel every detail of him drag against your ridges, trailing sparks of pleasure as you tilt your hips to drive him right into your sweet spot.

Jungkook’s head kicks back against the pillow as a groan rips through him. There’s a gentle crease in his brow, furrowed in the way that tells you it’s so good: the tight heat of your pussy, the slick stretch of it when you work it on him. You ride him rough, make him take it like a good boy.

Another noise stutters out of Jungkook, chased this time by a huff of breath that it takes you a second to realize is a laugh, the tone caught halfway between shy and horny. You watch the way he squirms, restless against his restraints, like he can’t help himself.

He answers before you can ask. “The way your tits— fuckin’ bounce— fuck, I wanna touch you.”

The feeling sinks in as you watch him writhe beneath you, as you shove your hips back harder to pull more desperate sounds out of him. It’s fun, not letting him have what he wants, makes you drip that much more down the length of him.

“You can’t.”

“I know,” he grunts, wrists tugging uselessly. “It’s hot— that I can’t.”

“It is,” you concede, feigning composure despite the hitch in your breath, the way you’re already close to the edge and pushed that much closer by having Jungkook like this. Tied up, all yours, free to do with as you please.

And still fighting against his fucking restraints.

“Think I could rip these?”

It’s like your body acts faster than your pleasure-driven mind can keep up with: all at once, you’re tracing the pouted curve of Jungkook’s bottom lip, then slipping two fingers past it into the heat of his mouth.

“Shh, bunny,” you murmur. He blinks up at you, glassy-eyed as you pet over his tongue, all lush and wet on your fingertips. “Toys don’t talk.”

You press down more firmly as if for emphasis, enjoying how his soft parts give so easily to your touch, and then Jungkook outright moans around your fingers in his mouth.

The needy little sound makes your pussy pulse hot between your thighs.

“Fuck,” you hiss as you take him to the hilt, changing the stroke of your hips to grind against your toy, used solely to get yourself off now. Humping, really, rubbing your clit over the smooth skin of his abdomen where he’s blooming feverglow, flushed with need. Jungkook’s eyes flicker back in his head at the way your pussy’s taking him, squeezed tight like a vice and gushing wet. Working raw sounds out of him, his jaw gone slack; you can feel the blunt edge of his teeth and his heavy, shaky breath on the palm of your hand.

Your thighs shift to spread wider and the next drag of your clit is at just the right angle that pleasure surges up in you, undeniable, overwhelming. It’s all you can do now to chase your release, to keep rocking yourself into it, Jungkook’s thick cock plugged up inside of you and drool slicking out of his mouth to drip down your wrist.

“Gonna make myself come on my pretty little toy,” you manage to gasp.

Jungkook’s eyes find yours, burning intensity, the way he gets, and then he closes his lips tight around your fingers in his mouth and sucks, as if he’s begging to be used, and it sends you over the edge all at once. Your head tips back as your orgasm kicks through you, white noise pleasure, enough to get lost in.

Hips still rolling, you grind yourself through it, the waves of your climax swelling and receding again, until you finally drop forward against Jungkook’s chest, breathless and buzzing all over.

You let your fingers slip out of his mouth, exhale a laugh as they skip over the defined ridges of his stomach when you wipe your hand dry, taking full advantage of the fact that he’s powerless to stop you.

“Shit, that was hot.”

Jungkook’s voice is hoarse with desire as you shift to find the curve of his neck under your mouth, trailing kisses until your lips brush over the pretty lines of ink just behind his ear. He’s still thick and stiff inside you, with a steady pulse-throb that tells you how badly he needs to come, how worked up he is from being used as your personal hump-toy.

“Yeah,” you echo, paired with a tentative rock of your hips that makes your cunt flutter, overstimulated, tugs a little whine out of Jungkook, too. Your tongue feels thick in your mouth as you breathe against his flushed skin.

“Think I— wanna keep using my toy. Kinda feel like being greedy.”

Jungkook’s cock twitches, shameless, at your admission, again when you flick a thumb over the silver jewelry studded through his nipple. There’s a part of you that wants to keep him like this, his leaking-hard dick filling you up while you purr nasty shit in his ear, just to see if he can come from it.

“Might ride it until I break it.” You scrape your teeth up his neck and he moans. “Gonna take all I can give you, bunny?”

His throat jumps visibly as he swallows, fights to gasp a desperate “uh-huh”. Answers with his body, too, arching up to press himself deeper into you, rubbing the slick, hot tip of his cock into your front wall in just the right way to melt pleasure down your spine. You reward his eager submission with a soft kiss, then lick along the seam of his lips, enjoying the sweet little noises that pour into your mouth when you open him up.

Still intertwined, his tongue stroking over yours, your hand goes fumbling for the nightstand, comes away with the slender cylinder of your vibrator, and switches it on before slipping it down to press between your bodies.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook groans as you nestle the shuddering bullet between your folds and find the bud of your clit. You know he can feel it too from the way his hips jerk beneath you, the steady buzz engulfing his cock as you squeeze your pussy around him, all lush sensitivity from your first orgasm. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come.”

“You can.” The words are hardly more than a warm exhale from your mouth to his, your lips brushing. “But I’m not gonna stop.”

You don’t give him time to respond or even heave in another gasp of air before your thumb finds the button at the base of your vibrator, clicks it once, then again.

“F— ahh!”

Jungkook’s body jolts like a live wire as he falls apart beneath you. You sit up to take in the whole of him, your free palm slipping to the jut of his hip, fingertips splayed out and pressed heavy to anchor.

Pinned down and helpless, he trembles through the hot rush of his release, dick buried deep and pulsing as it all comes spilling out of him.

“That’s it, baby,” you coo. Your nails scratch lovingly against his skin to coax him out of it— taking such good care of your toy. His breath is punching out of his chest in these ragged, overwhelmed gasps, sweat glittering at his temples while he whimpers through the comedown. So fucking beautiful like this.

The hum of the vibrator rolls through you, strong enough with the change in angle that your eyes drop shut to focus on the feeling.

Jungkook whines when you circle your hips with him still tucked up inside of you— it’s a wrecked little noise, high and sweet, underscored by the thick squelch of his cum starting to leak back down his shaft. Your thighs tense just right from the filthy sound of it, and then it’s all throbbing velvet glow in your core as you clench up and come on his cock again.

“Fuuuuuck, bunny,” you groan up to the ceiling, your head tipped back as it washes over you. “God, yeah.”

You flick the vibrator off when it gets to be too much, let it go rolling down the mattress— the bedroom feels bigger for the silence. Sweat slicks at the back of your knees, warm spring breeze still licking through the window to flutter the sheer-gauze curtains.

You’re fluttering too, all over: the kick of your heartbeat, the breath stuttering out of your lungs. The throb of your cunt, split open and drooling out juice, messy-wet fresh fruit.

The sound of the bedsheets shifting has your lashes flickering open again, and there’s Jungkook. Dark hair fanned out on the pillow, wrists bound, and that look in his eyes. Like he can take a little more. Like he’s waiting for your cue. Like there’s this whole-heart want brimming up inside of him, making his blood run hot.

He’s still hard between your legs.

“Go on then,” you tell him. “Give me another one.”

With a concentrated growl, Jungkook flattens his feet to the bed, grips tighter to his restraints for leverage, and starts to pound up into you. You can feel an overstimulated shudder in the stroke of his hips, how his cockhead twitches, sensitive, as it rubs over your g-spot. But he doesn’t stop; doesn’t even lose his rhythm.

He fucks you like a machine, and it’s all you can do to brace your palms against his chest and tip forward, rocking yourself down to meet him thrust for thrust.

The harsh slap of body on body is almost enough to drown out the rest: your open-mouthed panting, Jungkook’s groan when your nails dig crescent moon slivers into his tan skin, the gravel edge to your words, “Yeah, like that, fuck me just like that.”

It takes you a second to notice, the sound buried beneath it all, but then it floats through— Jungkook’s sucking his breath in through his teeth now, his jaw tight. You can see the jump of a muscle working there.

“Does it hurt, baby?” you gasp, more air than voice.

Jungkook’s head drops back against the pillow, brow pinched from the focus of keeping his pace steady. He’s breathless, too, when he answers: “Feels good.”

“Feels good because it hurts, huh? Is that how you like it?”

A strangled noise tears out of his throat, and he shoves up even harder, like he wants to fuck you into the shape of him. You splay one hand over the column of his throat and watch his pretty brown eyes blink-blink back at you, and then you have to bury your moans in the crook of his neck as you come hard.

The world around you returns a little at a time. First, the tremble of your tired thighs, the dull ache that’s already started to bloom at the bend of your knees. Then, Jungkook’s body curved up against yours, hips still slow-rolling as you exhale in hot, jagged bursts against his skin. There’s the distinct drip of his cum sliding out of you, and all the sticky-wet places where it’s slicked up the swell of your ass.

“Shit,” you laugh when you manage to find the breath for it. “That was crazy.”

Jungkook shifts a little, but doesn’t respond, and then he makes this wet, soft gasp. You realize he’s shaking beneath you.

You sit up so fast the room spins; your tether is Jungkook’s face, cupped lovingly now between your palms.

“Oh, baby.”

A fat teardrop traces a path down his cheek. Another threatens the dark border of his lashes. He can’t wipe them away with his wrists tied up, but you can see him trying to hold back even as a sob shudders through him, his chest heaving.

“You okay, my love?” you murmur, swiping a thumb across his face. He sniffles, nods, hiccups a little. The tip of his nose is flushed pink. “Shoulda told me to stop, if it was too much.”

“It feels good,” he insists, and his voice cracks around the words. “It’s just a lot. But ‘m not— don’t wanna stop.”

“No? You sure?”

Jungkook sucks his lip ring into his mouth as he nods again, sniffs again. That sends a bolt of something through you.

“You’ve been so good to me,” you praise, and you tip your ass back until his softening cock slips out, smeared glossy-white with your shared release. Jungkook’s still wound-up, pulled so tight inside himself that he flinches when you slip a hand down to ease his legs apart, sliding lower on the bed to slot yourself between them.

“Can I take care of you, bun?” The question’s posed sweetly, chased with a flutter of your lashes and kisses dropped down on the flat plane of his abdomen. “I’ll be gentle.”

He whimpers— answers in the way his hips lift up to meet your mouth.

Your hands press flat to Jungkook’s broad thighs, and you can feel the overwhelmed static-shiver beneath your palms, little tremors that jolt through his muscles. Head dipped low, you drag your tongue up his length and it punches a thick sob out of him, hips stirring like he’s trying to crawl up the bed. But you just keep going, pin him down and make him take it, working broad flat stripes over the whole of his shaft, root to tip. Tasting him, salt and slick and your own heady flavor; you lick him clean.

Jungkook comes quietly this time, feet flexing restless on the bed as you tongue it all out of him. You swipe two fingers through the mess on his stomach and suck that up, too.

Humming around the digits in your mouth, you surface from between Jungkook’s legs to take him in: eyes closed, face wet with tears. You can see the rise and fall of his chest as he gasps for air, shaky, coming down from it.

“Alright baby,” you soothe, shifting up to straddle his chest, knees sinking into the sheets. “All done now, just breathe. Gonna untie you.”

Reaching up, you gently tug open the knot on one restraint, then the other, easing Jungkook’s limp arms to the mattress. Your thumbs find his wrists to massage soft love-circles in case he’s gone numb there, gently coaxing him back to earth.

“Did so good for me, bunny.”

There’s a whimper, and then Jungkook’s surging up to kiss you, forceful enough that you give a little hum of surprise against his lips.

His hands are all over you, all at once, tugging at your legs to drag them forward until you’re flat on your back on the mattress. Your sore thighs shake when he shoves them up and apart, and then a sharp buzz rolls right over the bud of your clit and you keen. Fuck, when did he even grab the vibrator?

“Wanna make you come again,” he pants, and you smile even as your spine arches off the bed. Of course. You should’ve known.

It’s Jungkook all over, you think, hyper-focused on your pleasure even when he’s out of commission, and then you feel the head of his cock push inside and you both gasp. Your cunt aches, so swollen that it’s like he’s stretching you out all over again when you take him to the hilt.

“Oh my god,” you breathe. Jungkook’s hips snap, punctuated by a strangled grunt of effort, but he keeps going, making soft little sweet-pain whines with every thrust, brow scrunched as he brute-forces his way well past overstimulation.

He’s still crying, you realize.

Tears roll down his face and drip onto your collarbone, and everything’s somehow hotter for it. His length is slick, painted in the stored-up remnants of his cum, and you can hear the squish of your folds at the base of his cock each time he fucks it all back into you, so dirty it makes your head spin.

“J-just like that, baby,” you groan, overwhelmed; you can barely get the words out. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come.”

Jungkook buries his face in the crook of your neck, and you can feel him shaking, dripping, still rabbiting his hips into you, and then the hum of pleasure reverberating through your body explodes. Your clit throbs with an orgasm that feels endless, dizzying, divine. Jungkook outright sobs as your walls pulse pulse pulse around him, begging for every last drop.

When it’s all too much, you swat at his hand, mumbling shapes that aren’t words until the vibrator’s switched off and tossed away. He pulls out with a thick wet sound and the hiss of his breath between his teeth.

Together, you come down slow. Exhaling staccato, limbs tangled, bodies flushed and sweat-sticking.

Jungkook moves first: flops onto the mattress next to you, entirely exhausted, the way you’ve seen him get after a particularly rough workout. Scrubs at his face with one hand, this shy laugh fluttering out of him. “Can’t believe I cried. Ah, so embarrassing.”

You turn onto your side, tugging his hand away so you can press a kiss to his open palm. “Don’t ask me why but… in the moment? Very hot, actually.” A flush colors his cheeks and you giggle. “My perfect little crybaby.”

He flashes you his signature cocky grin, eyes squeezing shut as it morphs into something nearer to a wince. “Fuck, I’m so sweaty.” A breathless gasp, again. “And my dick hurts. I think I came dry that last time.”

“Poor baby,” you coo, not quite sincere. “You really could’ve stopped at… what, three?”

Eyes closed and still smirking, he shakes his head, damp hair falling in his face. “No I couldn’t have— I’m Jeon Jungkook.”

“You certainly are.”

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts smut #bts x reader

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hazyange1s · 3 months

Text

Enshrouded

Summary: (abbreviated from the ao3 version because this baby is long enough 😂) MC is an Auror seeking refuge from the arduous nature of her everyday life, and finds it in a secret wizarding club hidden in London; where she has an unforgettable encounter with a strangely familiar, masked man.

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x F!MC / Reader

Warnings: EXPLICIT 18+ MINORS DNI. — p in v, oral (f and m receiving), drug/alcohol use, semi-public, anonymous, little bit rough but nothing too crazy, mentions of violence/blood (mc just really LOVES her job lmao), lots of adult language oop, aged up characters (everyone is in their early 20’s)

Word count: 7.3k

A/N: this idea came to me in a dream… nah jk it came to me while watching Bridgerton (go figure). Started writing it months ago and after much self-doubt I present baby’s first published filth 💀

read here on Ao3 🌹

It was the mystery. She had long suspected that was what kept her going back for more, time and time again.

The risk of it all was enticing too, of course, but more than anything, she loved a damn good mystery. One complex and intricate, one that took time and effort to unravel. As an Auror, well, her life was chock full of such simple delights.

Regrettably, there wasn’t much joy to be had in solving the cases slapped on her desk by the Chief Auror - any satisfaction in making an arrest was often muddied by the names of the victims left behind. So she often sought out milder (but just as potent) forms of that heady adrenaline rush in order to scratch the itch - and her absolute favorite was Reverie. Unassuming enough as names go, and the facade would lead you to think so, too: its uniform brick painted a dingy gray just like every other shopfront along the shadowed, misty cobblestone of Knockturn Alley.

If any of her coworkers found out she frequented such a spot …oh, she’d never hear the end of it. Worse than that, her Chief might even believe such behavior warranted suspension; as wanton impropriety from a well known Ministry employee would bring her morals into question. Likely, she’d get an earful about the utter shame it would bring upon the Ministry itself if she were spotted.

But that was the glorious thing about Reverie: the moment you stepped through its doors, you became somebody else.

Or, rather, no one at all.

Attendance was by invitation only; delivered anonymously while the recipient slept soundly in their bed (certainly disconcerting, but how could she complain?). No letter, just a silken black mask.

Donning the disguise allowed its wearer to see past the heavy glamor placed on the building and step inside - without being apprehended by one of the black-clad guards on watch. Yet the mask’s hidden talents didn’t end there. It was the club’s signature secret: while it was true they merely framed the eyes, each mask contained a glamor of their own that completely concealed one’s identity - whether or not someone would recognize them without it.

(You could be staring into the face of your best friend and would never know it.)

Which, incidentally, was expressly forbidden inside the club’s boundaries (one of very few rules, mind); as strict anonymity was what kept the underground facility running, despite the fact that the Ministry remained attuned to the whispers of a taboo venue boasting all manners of rampant debauchery right under their noses.

Still, the sorcery that offered Reverie protection had held true for well over five years, and its owners were more than dedicated to ensuring it was always so.

Most well-versed and connected members of English wizarding society had at least indulged in rumors of an alternative establishment hidden in the city. They traded whispers of what horrors may lurk behind those gray walls - dark magic and blatant impropriety and dangerous indulgences…

They couldn’t be more right.

The air was already thick with the tang of whiskey and rank with perspiration by the time she arrived an hour after its Friday opening. With each step she took through the meandering crowd, heels clicking on the marble floors, curling smoke in every shade imaginable wafted around the room and blissfully chased away the odor with frankincense and mallowsweet.

But she hadn’t come for the medicinals tonight, tempting as they were after a week that had left her emptier than the glasses long ago abandoned by drunken patrons. Not even a goblet of Merlot or a shot of coffee liqueur (with a splash of cream) could chase away what ailed her.

No, tonight she sought only one means of release, and needed nothing but the tension simmering in her blood as fuel for the fire driving her to desperation.

Nights at Reverie were not for the faint of heart (or stomach), nor the chaste and mild. While technically not allowed in open spaces, more than half of the attendees usually found themselves with a partner by dawn; in one of the many private back rooms or curtained-off alcoves - or dark corners, even.

After all, what did they have to lose when the strings of your identity weren’t a factor?

Usually she’d been content to let the men and women come to her, and admittedly there hadn’t been a shortage of such… entanglements in the three months since she’d received her own mask.

But the time for coy shyness and drawn out flirtation was long gone. Leaning against one of the wall-to-floor Grecian columns at the edge of the room, she simply tossed back her hair and began to scan it for potential prey.

There was a generous sample size, it was true. A tall, lithe gentleman whose hair shone like spun gold, a flawlessly curved woman with rich brown skin, a broad redhead sporting a wide grin…

No, no, and no… none of them are just right.

She huffed with restrained frustration, tapping her foot to the string music playing a haunting melody that seemed to fill every space in the curved underground.

You know there’s only one person you wanted to find here tonight.

Perhaps she’d have to lower her standards - beggars can’t be choosers, and all that.

“There you are.”

Gasping, she pressed a palm to her satin covered chest, which heaved beneath the boning of her - possibly too tight - corset at the unexpected greeting. But what truly robbed her of breath until she was penniless… oh, gods.

They’d answered her prayers after all: the man standing behind her with a luminous grin was precisely the one she’d been hoping to see.

A regular, as luck would have it. She’d spotted him in attendance more often than not, but had never had the courage to approach (mainly due to the slew of witches and wizards who got to him first).

With her attraction being largely from afar, she’d assumed that his lack of…well, anything - other than a single dance lasting no more than five minutes - had meant he was uninterested. Though the smile he wore was genuine, not like the mask framing his dark eyes, and it sparked in the dim lighting cast from candelabras around the wide room.

“Here I am…?” She quirked a brow questioningly, hand lowering to her hip. “But, er, you must be mistaken. I’m not sure I’m the person you’re looking for.”

“Oh, I’m quite sure you are.” His chuckle was somehow more musical than the quartet filling the air and more rough than smooth, but exquisitely rich - as was the material of his dark vest and the deep gray collared shirt rolled above his elbows.

“On account of the fact that I’d know that particular dress anywhere. We’ve never been properly introduced, as I recall.”

“You recall correctly.” She smiled - maybe coy was still in the cards, if only to spend more time with this handsome stranger.

“I suppose that’s frowned upon here really, so…I believe there’s a better way we could become acquainted, if you’d be amenable.”

She had to be impressed with his wanton confidence, if nothing else…though she got the sense there were many rather impressive things about him. Even more arresting was the boldness of his touch; broad hands reaching for hers to bring to his supple lips, where they lingered for a moment before releasing her gently.

Alright. He knew what he was doing.

But she had to play just a touch hard to get - if only to give him a taste of what he’d been dishing out for months (intentionally or otherwise). He’d been playing coy after their first and only real interaction; shooting her little winks and whispered hellos on random nights - only to disappear again amongst the all-black crowd without giving her a chance to respond.

Likely, he’d been going off to find some other witch or wizard for entertainment.

“I’m sorry,” she said sweetly, a knowing smile playing on her own red-painted lips. “I don’t recall meeting you at all. Your face has a similar quality to many men here, you see.”

“Ah, somehow I doubt that.” Darkness collected in his dimples (how had she not noticed them before?)

“Saturday, precisely two months ago to the day, you were dancing in my arms wearing a red dress like you have on right now.” His voice was like honey and velvet as he spoke. With each word, he seemed to get closer.

And yes, of course she remembered. She was just surprised he still did.

It’s why she’d been stuck with a ridiculous, schoolgirl infatuation for weeks now; why she’d worn red each and every night in the hopes of catching his attention once more.

The brief escapades she’d busied herself with in the meantime had done in a pinch, but there was something about him she was positively dying to unravel. Perhaps it was the spark in those deep brown eyes - like the dark liquor she favored- that spoke of depths hidden far below the playful, self-assured surface.

Or maybe it was how he smelled from mere inches away, as he was now: pine, sandalwood, and a spicy scent akin to the smoke furling around him like a haze of fog.

“You’ve got quite the memory.” She mused, unable to stop her smile from bursting into full bloom. “I suppose that does ring a bell— you trodded on my foot.”

He groaned. “I’d had a lot of whiskey that night. I’m usually much more coordinated when sober. In fact…”

His fingers slid up her wrist, moving with slow caresses up her arm and shoulder until they came to rest beneath her jaw, angling it up to align with his gaze.

“Is it too presumptuous of me to ask…if you’d let me make it up to you?”

For a moment - just a breath, she hesitated. And why? This was exactly what she’d come for tonight, and with the man she’d lusted over for ages now falling right into her lap… what sort of woman would refuse?

It was something unidentifiable, intangible. A tug on her gut. Something that flashed in the white of his smile as it caught the candlelight. Like a sense of deja vu; there one second and gone the next, leaving her with nothing but the old itch crawling beneath her flushed skin.

“Presumptuous, certainly. But not unwelcome. Everyone deserves a second chance.” She purred, squaring her shoulders and allowing him to guide her to the edge of the room with one palm flat on her lower back.

What she’d expected was to be whisked away to one of the rooms tucked away in the back; filled with four poster beds and velvet curtains and enough firelight to be a safety hazard. Instead, he brought her up to the bar, catching the attention of its immaculately suited (and masked) tender with a wave of his finger. The movement distracted her while he ordered Merlin-even-knew what. She found herself watching the way his fingers curled and wrist turned with each gesture made, his palms visibly calloused - perhaps he had seen his fair share of combat, too - and the backs of his knuckles covered in freckles.

She had to wonder what constellations might be found if she dared to uncover the rest of him.

A glint of gold caught the light, mercifully returning her attention on the smiling eyes of the man who had taken to slipping a glass of red wine between her fingers.

“Shall we toast?” He asked, tilting his chin up in the direction of the raised goblet.

“What are we toasting to?”

“To…” his lips pursed thoughtfully. (Another startlingly distracting body part.) How pink and supple they looked, and how good they would taste when stained with burgundy…

“Liberation.“

Fitting, indeed.

“Santé.” She touched her chalice to his without breaking the meeting of their eyes.

“Slainte.”

The cloying bitterness of Merlot coated her tongue, filling her stomach with warmth - a taste she hadn’t encountered for years. One she missed dearly.

“How’d you know I’d like Merlot?” She licked wine from her bottom lip.

He spoke at the same time; thick brows arched high. “You’re French?”

They laughed, the sounds winding together into a hypnotic sort of harmony.

“You first.” He inclined his head.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps I’m simply fluent in the language.” She couldn’t give away any secrets, not even the place of her birth.

“That accent was flawless. Nobody but a native could articulate like that.”

She shook her head coyly, though not without amusement.

“Fine.” A sigh that seemed almost long-suffering stirred the smoke coiling around them. “I prefer my women with a bit of mystery, anyway. As for your question, darling…”

Oh, he was a rogue through and through. His eyes greedily swept over every inch of her gown to settle on the curves and shapes he seemed to appreciate most before he even deigned to finish.

“It’s… bold. Much like you, if you don’t think me too audacious for saying so.”

He paused to take another sip, savoring the act of licking his lips as she had moments ago, and almost smugly noting her obvious interest. “And I’ve obviously noticed you enjoy the color red, even if that part’s a bit on the nose.”

“You could say that.” Her heart fluttered traitorously into her throat. His undivided and enthusiastic attention was not only a welcome surprise, but a conflicting one. It wouldn’t do to fall for a masked man - in the end, they could never truly know each other beyond the four walls that brought them together.

Reverie. A dream - that’s all. You’ll wake up in the morning.

She straightened her shoulders, resolved and refortified. “And do you? Enjoy the color, that is?”

Her voice was low, only audible due to the minute distance between them, the man tilting his head down towards her as one finger grazed the dip of her neckline.

“What’s not to love?” He mused. “Red represents… vitality. Danger. Passion…”

Her skin prickled in the wake of the trail he drew from collar to shoulder and down her arm, and when it found her free hand, their fingers threaded together with such ease that they could have done it a thousand times before.

He could hear her heart, couldn’t he? With that amount of surety behind his stare, there was no doubt she was being read like an open book.

“That’s why we keep coming back here, isn’t it?” He was near enough now that every word was felt as a cloud of heat gracing her wine-flushed cheeks.

“Because we relish danger, and need passion like air. We all come to feel… alive.”

“Hmm. It’s almost as if you prepared that line beforehand.” She laughed.

His was such a beautiful sound, bubbling like champagne and leaving her with a warm feeling as if she’d tasted it herself.

“Let’s say I did… is it working?”

”Absolutely.”

Whatever spell had allowed them to maintain a sense of decorum shattered after that confirmation, which said so much more than was spoken aloud. The look exchanged between them was another conversation in itself; a volley of traded questions and answers that sent pure lightning skittering up her spine.

“Come with me.” He said abruptly (though not without a dutiful incline of his head; dark hair shining with veins of red in the candlelight) before tugging her away from the bar, where their drinks were hastily abandoned.

It seemed he was just as content to curse restraint, pulling her along with such haste that she tripped on her skirts (more than once) - evidently forgetting his longer legs and her tall heels as she bumped into a distracted patron that was left with a spilled drink, a scowl, and a breathless apology she didn’t quite mean.

They paused at the mouth of the corridor tucked in the back. It was lined with nothing but identical doors of deepest mahogany: some tightly shut, some cracked, and others yet wide open.

The meaning behind each was simple enough: shut meant “do not disturb”, cracked meant “listen or join, if you dare”, and wide open meant “vacant”. The wizard gave her a boyish grin as they all but stumbled to a stop in front of one that remained ajar and beckoned with soft golden light from the candles within.

“What are you waiting for?” She panted.

Without waiting on so much as a blink, her hand fisted in the crisp white of his button down, guiding him through the threshold before the slam of wood against the frame echoed in the empty chamber.

“A witch who knows what she wants, I see.” He chuckled, his hands needing no invitation to wind around her waist until their bodies molded at each curve.

“Well, you’ve been taunting me for a while, haven’t you?”

She took advantage of her hold on his clothes, forgoing the ease of simply waving her wand when she could take the opportunity to feel every inch of skin she revealed by releasing the buttons on his shirt.

Freckled - just as she’d suspected, and with a neat nest of dark hair over the swell of his pectorals that her palms begged to rest on.

“Wait, wait.” He huffed, hands coming to halt hers before they had time to slide the heavy coat from his shoulders.

“No - not wait as in stop -“ he’d seen the crease between her brows. “Wait, as in… slow down.”

”You seemed rather impatient a minute ago when you were dragging me through the place.” She said wryly.

“Impatient to get you alone, yes.” His knuckle grazed her cheek gently, reverently studying what little of her face he was able to see.

“But…” It was as transient as a ghost, at first. A phantom of touch over the swell of her lip, and then firmer as his thumb outlined the shape. “I’d very much like to kiss you first. May I?”

That he even asked such a question - let alone made his intentions to savor the night clear - was enough to poke another hole in her notions of a one-night affair. What if she couldn’t stand to never have this man again when it was over?

Well… there was always the luxury of dreams.

“Yes, of course.” She whispered.

She’d been right earlier - the taste of wine clung to the corners of his mouth, somehow even sweeter when combined with a hint of peppermint cooling the sharp breath he took the moment their lips fit together effortlessly. Her tongue sought to part them in search of the buzz that the alcohol couldn’t take credit for; finding his and groaning with delight as he melted into her.

A soft tug on her scalp announced the presence of his fingers as they threaded through strands of hair with the sole purpose of eliminating any and all space between them. Eagerly he rolled their tongues together, smearing the red painted on her lips across his chin.

They only paused to share a breath that left her dizzy. The sight of his skin stained with rouge was more beautiful than any art piece hanging on the tapestried walls - and there would be more colors adorning it by the end of the night, if she had anything to say about it.

“Now…” The brunet exhaled when they broke apart, lips brushing with each word. “Now, you can take off my clothes.”

No need to tell her twice.

His vest slumped to the floor, giving her leave to continue her work on that long trail of buttons ending at the waist of his trousers. Before long it, too, was little more than a rag at their feet. When she was privy to every square inch of his bare torso, her hands took liberties to caress the panes of his chest, marveling without shame.

“If you’ll allow me the honor, I’d like to even the score.” His voice was near a husk as he watched her intently.

No complaints arose (alright, perhaps one — when he spun her around; effectively depriving her of the ability to keep touching him) as the skilled wizard sought the eye hooks at the back of her bodice, dexterous fingers releasing each one with a snap that seemed to echo. All the while his mouth found her skin - tongue laving over her throat, teeth nipping where it met her shoulder to plant a bloom of deepest red.

“Mmm… keep doing that.” She hummed appreciatively, head lolling to the side.

“You don’t mind if I leave you a few reminders to find in the morning?” He chuckled. By then, he’d succeeded in freeing her of the constricting garment, tossing it to the carpet by the fire before he started to untie her skirt.

“Not at all.”

”Good,” another kiss, just below her ear this time. “Because I want to be able to see that it’s still there next time we meet.”

If he wasn’t careful, she’d start to think he already had plans to do this again.

She didn’t wait for him to move her this time; taking control back once she was only clad in her underthings by going for the buttons holding up his bottoms. Oddly enough, her fingers took on a tremulous quality - one she’d rarely (if ever) experienced in an intimate moment since her very first.

He seemed to adopt a similar growing impatience that made him forgo the back and forth to slip the sleeves of her chemise down, guiding the garment over her figure.

”Gods, you’re a vision.” He groaned and reached for the curve of her waist, feeling out the shape only to travel upwards until he could cup a breast in each hand, thumbs teasing the peaks hardened against the air.

Even as she shivered when he leaned down to bestow a kiss on either one, she managed to get him out of everything but the long undergarments concealing that which she craved most. But when she went for them, he stopped her yet again - catching her wrist only to sweep the startled witch into his awaiting arms with a self-satisfied grin.

The mattress depressed beneath her weight, bouncing back as she blew away a stray lock of hair to look up at him. Watching the way his arms — corded with thick veins — flexed and his eyes narrowed. With barely concealed impatience he climbed onto the bed and wrapped his hands around her thighs.

“Quite the man handler, you are.” She giggled once he’d yanked her towards him so her legs fell open on either side of his knees.

That drew the attention of his wandering eyes.

“Somehow I doubt that was a complaint.” His mouth quirked in earnest. ”Nor do I envision you’ll have any after I’m done with you.”

He began to toy with the idea of removing her drawers - the last thing preventing her from losing her mind, potentially - by sliding his fingers beneath their frilly hems, nails prickling the skin of her thighs as they scratched up and down in a taunting rhythm.

“Tell me something about yourself,” he whispered out of the clear blue. “Anything. The only things I know about you are that you’re French, love the color red and Merlot… oh, and you’re a much better dancer than me.”

Sharing random factoids wasn’t necessarily the foreplay she’d been expecting, nor the kind she was used to, but she couldn’t say she minded when his voice alone made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

“Uhmm…” She had to think of something vague; a throwaway tidbit useless to anyone else.

While he watched, waited with wide and patient eyes, she sighed, “I can’t go a day without coffee. Never quite developed a taste for tea. And I drink it with three sugars.”

He blinked twice in quick succession. All the while he had yet to stop playing with the edges of her knickers, though he gradually let one hand inch up her covered thigh, as if testing the waters. But, she wondered… what was there to test? He had been so self-assured outside this room, yet now there was a hint of nerves beneath the cool exterior.

”So dark and sweet is the way you like it, huh?” He simply couldn’t help himself, it seemed.

The smirk she donned was enough of an answer. “Tell me something about you, then.”

”Me… well.” His mouth quirked before he shifted on the bed - lying on his stomach to greet the center of hers with a kiss. Then each of her hips with a gentle nip.“I love to read. Anything I can get my hands on, really. Fiction, nonfiction, magical and otherwise… I’ll devour it all.”

A slight pinch followed by the softness of his lips alerted her to another cluster of marks he began working onto her lower stomach, covering as much ground as he could on her thighs. His breath, heating her core as it came in little pants, was beginning to become a significant problem - one made her feel warm and heavy. Like sinking into a hot bath, if it were near-boiling.

“In fact, if I had to pick my favorite place in the world, it would be sitting in front of a fire with a good book.” His fingertip ever so slightly grazed the inner curve of her thigh.

“A man of charm and intelligence…how ever did I get so fortunate?”

He chuckled at her teasing lilt, the sound tickling her sensitive skin while he began to make way for the kisses left up the length of her thigh — bunching her drawers up until his fingers just brushed the soft nest of curls at the top.

“Although right now I have to say; I’m very much enjoying this spot, as well.” The wicked man smiled up at her.

“Well, if you’re waiting for an invitation, you’ve got it.” She tried to sound casual about it all, but truth be told, she was fighting every urge to rip his underwear off and throw him onto the bed herself like some sort of madwoman.

He might make her into one before the sun rose, anyway.

She was sure of it when he began pressing tortuously chaste kisses to her other thigh, and when his fingers slid lower to deliver a gentle stroke down the center of her slit had her shuddering with anticipation.

“And how long have you been this wet, love?” His deep rasp was muffled by the fabric of her underwear.

She chuckled. “Hmm…since the moment you took me to the bar, probably.”

He sat up with a distinctly prideful grin, slipping the soft cotton undergarments down her legs, his eyes alight as he settled back between them.

She could almost see the words hanging off his lips as he gazed up at her (that sight was enough to make her hips shift needily), but for whatever reason, they weren’t cut loose. No, he busied his mouth with far more important pursuits. After pausing briefly to indulge his eyes in an appreciative sweep of her naked body, he at last found the perfect spot to make her whine (and on the first try, too) with naught but a languorous sweep of his tongue.

It wasn’t nearly enough to quell any bit of the ache driving her into inevitable madness, but he showed her mercy by flattening the wet muscle against her folds and following a slow trail up until the tip of it lightly flicked her clit.

“Oh, please do that again.” She pleaded (had she been reduced to begging so quickly?), one hand inching towards her breast — seeking any more stimulation she could find — as the other slid through the silken waves atop his head.

He obliged. But with more pressure this time, and so, so slow, observing her reaction as if she were the most scintillating thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

It really was something about those eyes. With such unfairly long lashes that fanned over russet cheeks, and the way the candlelight flickering off the walls would touch them just so to light the near-black irises with a rich gold. His lips stretched against her skin, noticing her attention and giving her an approving hum that was met by the push of her hips towards his tongue.

“Mmmph —“ he grunted when her thighs pressed to his ears, entrapping him between them greedily. “Like that, do you?”

Her answering moan earned another grin followed by a gentle suck on her clit that only brought out another breathy, low sound.

“But gods, you taste so sweet…decadent, just as I’d said.”

Merlin, his voice…the way it rumbled with barely contained desire and pulled obscenities from her own throat was sinful.

Drowning in sin didn’t seem such a bad way to go, at present.

The possibility became reality once he re-added a finger to the mix; curling it beneath his tongue to trace the folds before sinking gradually into her awaiting heat.

“Oh, f—“

One of her own fingers rolled her nipple atop the breast she’d been playing with as she shivered. If he kept this up much longer, she would surely come undone right on his tongue; wrapped around that rough digit gliding in and out of her as it stroked her upper walls.

But that didn’t feel right. As wonderful as the softness of his lips enclosing around her clit was, she couldn’t imagine a proper substitute for the stretch his cock would provide instead.

“I need…” she had been about to voice her request when the tip of his tongue prodded her entrance. Both of her hands now gripped his auburn waves like they were keeping her tethered to earth, legs trembling with the effort to fight off the warmth swelling in her core.

“Need what?” He took an eager breath in, only to release it through pursed lips over the throbbing bud he seemed to adore. “I want to hear it loud and clear, lovely.”

An impatient groan parted her bitten lips. “I need more. I need you inside me when you make me come.”

“There you go. Gods, you sound so pretty when you ask to be fucked…” It took one last excruciating pump of his finger inside of her before he withdrew to push himself up onto his knees with a mess of her own making shining on his clean-shaven chin.

“First, though…” The finger coated with her fluids was sucked between his reddened lips. When it was pulled out with a slick, slow draw, he crooked it in her direction. “Come here. I want you to get a little taste, too.”

Don’t mind if I do.

On trembling hands she raised herself up on wobbly knees pressed into the soft mattress, sucking in a breath when she curled her fingers over the band of his underwear and waited for approval.

“Don’t be shy.” He coaxed gently.

It was difficult not to be at least a little intimidated by the proud shape outlined through his bottoms (and leaving a very telltale wet spot in the light fabric), but she pushed past it with a firm swallow.

Her breath whooshed out without prompting as she rolled them over his hips and the rather shapely swell of his backside. And, as it had before taking a sip of the wine he’d offered earlier, her mouth watered when she was rewarded with the view of his cock as it twitched at the first rush of air over the leaking tip.

Personally, she wasn’t much of an artist. She preferred a wand to a brush and blood over red paint, but there was something about him that begged to be immortalized on canvas. How satisfying it would be to perfectly capture the artful tapering from wide shoulders to a slimmer waist, or even to carve from marble the thickness of his thighs.

She doubted it would do him justice.

“Are you going to paint a portrait?” He teased, as if ripping those very thoughts from her mind.

“Just might. And could you blame me?” She answered with a bite of her lip. But there was too much bloody talk going on. In the spirit of action, she lowered her mouth to meet the curve of his hipbone and began marking a wet trail downwards.

The light scrape of his fingernail over her cheekbone made her lashes flutter as he tucked a wayward lock of hair behind her ear, his breathing growing more labored when her palm slipped over the softness of his length — only to fold her fingers around it with gentle pressure. By the time she brushed her lips over the head — then her tongue to collect the salty fluid now leaking down the shaft — he was keening under his breath.

“Mmhmm…keep going, please.” he murmured.

As if she would stop. On the contrary, she wrapped her mouth around him, making a circle around the ridge of his cockhead with the tip of her tongue only to trace the length of him by following a thick vein. He was thick — stretching her lips wide when she took him in inch by inch, allowing him to prod the back of her throat to moisten her mouth.

“Just like that. You’re doing brilliantly, love; just perfect.” He said breathlessly, scraping her hair back into a haphazard updo with a broad hand.

Spurred on by the praise, she hollowed her cheeks for a better seal, dragged her mouth along his shaft until he rewarded her with a broken, guttural moan. She kept it up until finding a rhythm that his hips desperately pushed forward to match.

“I won’t… fuck, you’re going to make me embarrass myself…” he chuckled weakly.

Well that wouldn’t do at all. As much as the idea of swallowing his seed enticed her, there was a far better option in her mind. Which is why, despite his immediate protest in the form of a low grunt and a harsh tug on her hair, she gave one last slow lick before pulling away.

The increasingly flustered wizard tracked her movements with lust-glazed eyes. “I was hoping to drag this out, but I think you’re proper ready for me, aren’t you?”

Her enthusiastic nod spurred a laugh as he unfolded her legs from beneath her, wasting no time in hooking one around his hips and propping the other up to rest on his shoulder. The view was… magnificent, and he seemed to agree as his tongue darted out to taste her essence on his lips.

She’d expected another round of teasing. How relieved she was when instead, the blunt head of his cock parted her readily, sweeping through the slickness there with a stuttered, needy groan.

And just when she was about to insist —

A gasp tore through her dry throat as he pushed himself inside of her with little resistance. She was suddenly so full; though it wasn’t until he was fully sheathed that she let out a long, breathy sigh.

“Good? You alright?” He murmured, the rough pads of his fingers rubbing circles on the inside of her thighs. When she nodded, his mouth curled into a smile that she felt amidst the kisses left along her calf.

Oh, it was more than good — by the time he dragged his length out just to drive himself forward again, she was positively keening for more; her hands blindly reaching for some part to grab and managing to splay them flat on his lower back to force him deeper. He could hardly fight her, and it seemed like he didn’t want to anyway. The wizard’s eyes had grown hooded with lust, those sumptuous lips parting to make way for a moan that sent a shock down her spine. Her own eyes fluttered shut as he began to glide in and out of her in languid, practiced thrusts.

“Mm mmm,” he hummed chastingly. “I’d like to see those pretty eyes.”

His boldness — so wildly sexy.

Looking at him was almost a taboo in itself. Nine times out of then, her trysts had involved a lot of pleasure-filled sounds and heavy breathing; but conversation? Not so much. Some people didn’t even like to be kissed — and others found a prolonged gaze entirely too intimate.

This man didn’t just fuck. It was a different experience altogether, and it was bloody incredible. So, like the hopelessly besotted witch she was, she met his gaze and responded with a wanton moan at the sight of his head thrown back in pleasure while his hips made wide circles against hers.

“Gods, you fit like a glove,” his body shuddered with a stuttered exhale. “Feel so good…”

She canted her hips up to meet his in protest of his lazy pace, earning a broken chuckle before being rewarded with the head of his cock roughly probing her to its absolute limit.

“Godric…” she whined pathetically. “Again — right there.”

“Is Godric Gryffindor the one providing your pleasure right now?” He mocked. “No, I don’t think so.”

”Well, then tell me your name, and I’ll scream it as much as you want.”

Locks of mussed hair fell over his forehead as the man shook his head, ignoring her small pout, but soothing the disappointment by giving her something else she’d wanted.

Again, he speared himself nice and deep. And again; and again, until her nails were carving crescents into the muscle of his back and he was whispering streams of filth into her ears between husky groans. Just when she was about to warn him of her rapidly approaching release, he had to go and stop — worst of all, he dragged his length out of her.

“You must be joking,” she panted.

A wicked grin told her she was in for it, and her thighs squeezed together in anticipation as he twirled his finger midair. “Oh, we’re not done. Sit up for me, love, and turn around. That’s it… now put your hands on the headboard.”

When her fingers curled around the solid chunk of wood, the bed dipped and creaked as he came up behind her, chest to spine and fingers curling over hers.

“Make sure you’re holding on tight.” Without warning, he ripped a sharp cry from her throat by driving back into her lonely heat until his hip bones dug into her ass and she swore she could see the night sky in that very room.

“Buggering hell —“ she blurted. This new angle was sure to be the end of her, and he was well aware of it from the delighted chuckle he huffed in her ear.

”You’ve got such a mouth on you for a lady… damned if I don’t love it.” The wizard panted with pride.

He wasn’t taking it easy on her any longer. The sheer force of his thrusts was enough to rock the bed frame against the wall; the thuds as the headboard struck exposed brick likely heard by everyone in the surrounding rooms (not that she had any room to care in her sex addled brain). It was enough to wring every last coherent thought from her, rendering her a shaking, mewling mess and unable to do anything but meet each snap of his hips with her own — while holding on for dear life.

“Oh, yes…” he was on his way to leaving bruises on her hip from the force of his steadying grip, but the sparks of pain only led her to greater pleasure.

Well-attuned to the signs of her mounting release as it threatened to overwhelm her for the third time, he released her hand to reach around and find her clit, abandoning the precision and prowess from before. Those dexterous fingers worked tirelessly, and coupled with the uneven little pants warming her neck between his kisses…

“I know you’re close, love,” he shuddered. “Go on, I’ll be right behind you.”

He threw every last bit of his energy into shoving her over the edge; and as his cock prodded that spot inside of her once more, she gave in and fell apart under his hands. Every unbridled, broken sound that tumbled out as she rode through her orgasm was met with an encouraging whimper from the wizard. Just when the last bit of pleasure was wrung from her body, he pulled out with a groan, releasing ropes of warm seed over her backside and spine.

There he rested for a moment. While he caught his breath, the man’s hands traced the shape of her body, slipping in the essence coating her with a proud chuckle. “Evanesco.” he murmured, restoring her skin to its unmarred state.

“Are you…” he gulped in a lungful of sex-scented air. “Are you alright?”

“Brilliant.” She panted, letting go of the headboard to turn and rest her back against it instead. “You?”

It was an understatement, really: all that stress pounding between her temples and tension in her shoulders had disappeared. She felt spectacular.

“Never better.”

He sank back to his knees, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair as he admired her with a lazy grin. How she wished she could peel the satin from his cheeks to see that smile reach his dark eyes…

“Only wanted to make sure. You were getting quite loud.” The question seemed more taunt than anything.

Walking might prove difficult for the next couple of hours (at the least), and her hair was likely in a right state (along with her marked-up skin), but none of that mattered when the lingering rush instilled her with a rare lightness.

“Is that a complaint?”

“Not at all. I was very much enjoying the sounds you made. Means I did my job well.”

She gave him a playful eye roll, rolling onto her side with the intention of returning to the solace of his arms before she realized — pillow talk and cuddling were sort of an unspoken faux pas when it came to casual encounters. Usually, her or her partners would leave the bed before the sweat had dried on their skin, and for once the expectation felt…lonely.

It truly struck her when he cleared his throat a moment later, gingerly untangling their weakened limbs to climb out of the bed seeking the various items of clothing discarded across the room.

“Do you need anything?” He asked, eyes darting to her before he located his pants. “Water, food..? Anything.”

Though appreciative, she waved his offer away with a quiet laugh. “I’ll be just fine. Though I’m sure I’ll need a hot bath at home.”

Sitting idly in bed while he already had a foot out the door picked at her pride, and so the Auror dragged herself out of it on trembling fawn’s legs. She managed to locate her underthings and slip them on before plucking her gown up from the floor.

“Oh,” a flash of gold caught her eye, and she bent to retrieve his trousers — as well as the shiny pocket watch that had evidently fallen out while they were distracted earlier. “Here, you don’t want to lose this.”

He was dragging his shirt over his bed head when she walked over to return it. She couldn’t help but admire the piece’s subtle artistry; the metal so perfectly preserved with intricate curling ivy etched into the rim of the case. Such a unique design…

So unique that she could easily recall seeing one just like it before.

And it, too, had been monogrammed with the letter S.

If he hadn’t snatched the watch out of her hand before the shock hit, she might have dropped and broken one of the last artifacts of the Sallow family.

Merlin, the irony of her asking for his name to say it in bed when she wanted to scream it in outrage now. And of course he had the audacity to take a step towards her, to soften his wide brown eyes (how had she looked into them and not known) and adopt an innocent frown; the one he had always used before begging for forgiveness.

She took a step back in turn and fixed him with a look that could have frozen the fire in the hearth. It was enough to confirm for him exactly what conclusion she’d reached.

“Blast it all, it is you.” He breathed.

“Sebastian?”

#the fear that just struck me #running away now #sebastian sallow fanfic #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow

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y3nze1 · 7 months

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𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐄 𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆, 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐍 | c.2

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: I / II / III / IV / V / VI

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Mentions of Blood and Knife, Happy Readings!

"And a song you shall have, Miss Daisy." He spoke sweetly, his voice warm and inviting. He chose a song for her, a love song that was sure to melt her heart. The melody was soft and sweet, and the lyrics were nothing short of poetry. As he played the song, he imagined her listening to it, her eyes closed as she floated away on a sea of emotion. He watched from his window as the moon shimmered in the sky, and he knew that it was going to be a night to remember.

As Alastor began playing the song on the radio, he felt as if his heart was pounding in his chest. He couldn't help but wonder what Miss Daisy looked like, what her life was like. He found himself thinking about her constantly, her voice and her kindness stuck in his mind.

Every time she called in with a request, his heart fluttered at the sound of her voice. And each time she asked for a love song, his feelings for her only grew stronger.

Weeks of regular requests from Miss Daisy. It only sparked his curiosity with how devoted she is to listening to his radio show, over and over again.

One night, as he was winding down the show, Alastor received a special request from Miss Daisy, a popular love song at that time. He couldn't believe it. Miss Daisy always had the best taste in music, and this song was no exception.

"This is perfect," Alastor said over the airwaves. "I can't wait to play it for you, Miss Daisy."

As he played the song, his heart raced with excitement. He was sure that Miss Daisy would love it, and he couldn't wait to hear her reaction.

When the song ended, he waited anxiously for Miss Daisy to call back.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Miss Daisy called back. Her voice was soft and nice, and Alastor could feel the gratitude and appreciation in her words.

"That song was incredible, Alastor," Miss Daisy said. "Thank you so much for playing it."

Alastor felt a rush of gratification. He was so glad that he could bring Miss Daisy this much joy and happiness through his music.

As for you, your fingers fiddled through the radio, turning it off, you stared out onto the night's sky. walking to the open balcony, watching the bustling city and it's different shaded light. some dim. some absolutely shining. you huffed to yourself.

With all of a sudden, The phone rang. ultimately, you picked it up. with Loralie on the other line, you were filled with glee as she gladly muttered out your name.

"Y/n, Darlin.. We're gonna be home tomorrow by 9, could you prepare the breakfast for me n' lewis, sugarplum?" she exclaimed. the sounds of bags and object clangs emitted in the background. you hummed in response, taking responsibility for making the breakfast by the time they came home. "Thank you darlin, take care okay? you yap all about your week when we come home, alright, okay.. tata moonpie~" with that, she dropped the call. you sighed, contented of finally not being alone.

You were content as the sounds of Loralie's voice faded away. You had been feeling a little bit alone lately, and her call had brought you a sense of comfort and connection. Finally, you laid in bed, drifting off to sleep.

The next day went by, the sunlight slowly creeping the room, You began to prepare breakfast for her and her boyfriend, You wanted to make them something special, something that would make them feel welcomed and appreciated.

You spent the next few minutes preparing everything, getting the ingredients for the breakfast that you knew they loved the most. You cooked up some scrambled eggs, fried some bacon, and toasted some bread. You even whipped up a batch of pancakes from scratch.

When everything is ready, you put the food on a plate and set it on the table. You sat down on the couch and waited nervously for them to arrive.

Finally, the sound of keys jangling in the door echoed through the apartment. Lorilie and her boyfriend walked in, both looking weary from a long day of traveling. "Y/n, Darling, i missed ya! utterly missed ya.." she pulled you into a tight hug, setting down her headdress onto the sofa. along with the bags. she glanced over the breakfast filled table, pulling Lewis, Her boyfriend over.

"Make sure you both eat a lot.." you muttered seating on the opposite side of the two. taking a munch of the pancakes, sighing in delight as you did. You felt a sense of accomplishment and happiness at having done something nice for someone else. For a few seconds of chewing, Lewis glanced over his wrist watch, eyes widening of the time.

"Loralie.. Y/n.. i-i'm afraid i need to get going" he frantically muttered, standing up from his seat, grabbing his coat while Loralie followed behind. "Lewis! you haven't finished breakfa-" she was cut off with a kiss he planted on her cheek before leaving. she sighed. watching him leave the place, Loralie hurriedly ran over to the balcony, calling out to him. "Lewis! make sure to call me when you get home!" she exclaimed, waving her hands as he left.

"Well, he seems busy.." you spoke up, calmly taking a bite of the food on your plate. Loralie then headed over to you, placing her chair beside you. as for the next few hours. she told all the wonderful things that went on during their vacation. "Well then we went for a joy ride, and good golly, that's all of it." she then turned to you, smiling. "What about you, Dear?, What did you do all week?"

You felt a sense of warmth and comfort as Loralie began to talk about her vacation. You listened intently, enjoying the sound of her voice as she described all of the beautiful places they had visited. You could tell that she was truly excited about the trip, and you were happy that she had a good time.

You thought for a moment before replying, "To be honest, I'm not sure what went by or happened.. This week was kind of a blur." You let out a small laugh, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I think I spent most of my time listening to the radio and reading books."

She paused for a moment. grinning. "Let me guess, you kept on requesting songs from Alastor.. did you? y/n? or should i say.. 'Miss Daisy'." she let out a chuckle. patting your back softly. "Well, i did, but it was for a good cause! I am a loyal listener. okay?" you happily spoke up. fiddling with the fork on your empty

You couldn't help but smile at Loralie's teasing comment. You knew that you were a loyal listener, but you didn't think that anyone else noticed. It was a little embarrassing, but also flattering that someone else had picked up on it.

"I just...I love his voice, and the way he plays his music. It makes me feel...calm, I guess." You shrugged, feeling a little silly for having such strong feelings about a radio host. Loralie laughed. "Well, there's nothing wrong with that, moonpie, well, I think it's rather sweet of you. I'm sure the guy appreciates having such a loyal listener like you." She gave you a comforting pat on the back before getting up to clear the table.

"Well, he has dozens of listeners too, and you know.. err" Loralie placed a finger on your lips. hushing you for a moment. "There's no room to be so humble, darlin" she laughed. grabbing the empty plates, placing it on the sink. patting her hands dry after.

The night went by as always, like a blur. Alastor sat there, With his blood stained hands, dripping down arms, onto his gleaming white fabric. His button up also stained with the red liquid. He hummed along the tune he played on the radio. Taking in the pleasure of his loneliness in the studio. The telephone rang, echoing across the room.

He placed the coated knife onto the table beside him. His hand reached the device, picking it up. bringing it up to his ear. he cooed, answering the call. "You have reached Alastor Altruist! From New Orleans, Louisiana, Welcome to my Broadcast.. and who might be on the other end of this pleasant call?"

The voice at the other end of the line was soft, almost hauntingly sweet. "Alastor, it's me again… Daisy." The caller's voice was familiar to Alastor, and he felt a twinge of excitement course through his veins. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves.

"Daisy, it's always a pleasure to hear from you," Alastor said, keeping his voice calm and steady. "What can I do for you tonight?"

"Oh, just a request for a song," Daisy said, her voice like music to Alastor's ears. "I hope it's not too much trouble?"

"Of course not, darling. I'd be delighted to play any song you'd like," Alastor replied, his mind already racing with possibilities. He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. "What song would you like to hear tonight?"

"I'd like the 'April Showers by Al Jolson'" she softly giggled. "April Showers," Alastor repeated, his voice smooth and clear. "That's a wonderful choice, Daisy. I'm sure our listeners will enjoy it just as much as I will." He paused for a moment before continuing. "I'll make sure to play it just for you, darling," he said, his voice filled with a hint of amusement.

With that, he finally played the song. grabbing a clean cloth to wipe the blood off of his arm. along with the once plastered on his face. After he dropped the call. he muttered.

"Keep calling me, Beautiful Stranger.."

#alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin #hazbin hotel #alastor altruist #human!alastor x reader #human!alastor #radio demon #1920s #Human!Alastor x You

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hobisstar · 1 year

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What are you hiding from love?| Yandere!Jk x Reader V Last Part

Summary: Being in a relationship with Jungkook you’ve always noticed the signs, the red flags if you will. Being so in love with him you ignored them, until the people you loved dearly started disappearing one by one.

Warnings: Murder, Jungkook victim blaming ( like he will say i killed you because you are too stupid or whatever), Possessiveness, Mentions of Smut, Controlling, Locking up YN.

Taglist: vante 🫶🏾

A/N: This is made to be scary! That is all. I honestly dont like mixing smut with yandere because i read yandere fics to be spooked not horny lol. This has been absolutely fun to write for you guys! Im so happy how much love it had gotten over the past month since ive been writing it! I love you all so so much! Enjoy!

Its been about two years since Jungkook decided to let yn go on her own! So far, yn has become the owner of the coffee shop, has opened up plenty of them across Asia and plans to open some in The Untied States.

Life has been looking absolutely beautiful for yn! But heres the thing.

Bodies have been discovered. Fresh bodies. Of course going through what she went through with Jungkook, she feared that this was his doing. That the so called hobby has now reached the news channels. Though it says that the crimes has been in only England, it was still capability of it being Jungkook.

“Yn! Are you even listening? Im telling you Namjoon wants to take you on a date!” Joy, yns now close friend that she has gained from opening the coffee shops.

“Sorry, but i dont think im ready to date. The last guy was for 5 years and it didn’t turn out well in the end.” Yn mumbled looking over at the tv that was on the crime scene of the killings.

But what was showed, made yns blood run cold.

What was at the crime scene was dandelions.

The flowers that Jungkook always used to gift her on days he felt like we did something wrong. He would cut the steam off and just leave the flowers to never be able to grow again.

Was he…back?

It was closing time and of course yn being the owner, she decided that it was her duty to close every single night.

But tonight, she couldnt shake the feeling that she was being watched.

As everyone was leaving she saw a guy with a big hoodie on taking his time to clean up his mess on the table. Putting his crumbs inside a napkin then taking the napkin and closing it tightly then throwing it out.

yn watched from behind the counter taking containers from the counter and putting them on the shelf behind her.

This mysterious guy has been coming in everyday. Same time. She never serves him but she knows Joy does and she hates serving him. ‘His glare, it can kill.’ She would say when describing the eyes of this mysterious man.

While cleaning she saw the guy get up and come up to the counter.

Face mask on and glasses… sun glasses.

Its night time.

Maybe it was a fashion statement. Thats what yn left it as. “ Hi sorry we are about to close soon so im gonna have to ask you to leave..” is what she was aiming to say but once she turned around she saw he just left a napkin with hand writing on it.

She grabbed it and began to read it:

“Hi baby! Oh its been such a long time, oh how i miss you. Our child also misses you. 2 years right? That is let you go? Ah, I remember something. Today is our anniversary! Our now 7 year anniversary. Im picking you up at 11! Be ready!

JJK,”

Yn was at this point shaking. Fear took over her body but was trying to hide it. She wasnt doing such a good job at that. As much as she wanted to call the cops, get him arrested, she knew that those cops had no chance in trying to get Jungkook.

Hed kill them all in the blink of an if he even knew that they talked to yn.

When yn got home she didnt let the fact go that when she got there she obviously saw Jungkooks car right outside her town house.

Mind you this is the 5th time this year she has moved. None of the reasons dealing with Kook but they definitely where personal reasons.

She braced herself, once she goes inside her home, Jungkook will be inside.

She could call the cops and run away from home then go to Jins house.

Actually now that Yn thought about it, what if Jin had something to do with it? He was always to calm for her liking honestly. Why was he always just so calm with him? I mean he explained it yes, hes seen it for so many years but why didnt he at least call the cops? Then again was the cops really gonna help him?

Entering the home, it felt like deja vu. Coming home on anniversary and Jungkook was cooking their favorite shared dish.

Spaghetti! Yn liked it because it was delicious and Jungkook probably like it because it reminded him of blood.

“My love! You are right on time! The Spaghetti is hot and ready to be platted. Get comfortable and come eat”

He didn’t need to turn around for yn to know that it was actually him. He colored his tattoos, became more swoll and also cut his long hair.

Yn didnt change anything or didnt get comfortable since this was all just too much for her.

‘Keep calm and go with his plan, yn.’ Thats all she kept telling herself.

Though what was his plan? Drug her? Kill her?

Well, none of those. He wanted her back. If that meant living in this house with her, then so be it. Jin had Bam so, they’d have plenty of time together.

Finally he sat down with two plates of spaghetti and there he was in all his glory.

He had the cockiest smirk while toying with his now new lip ring before sitting down across from yn.

“ Fucking finally, i have you again.”

#bts x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x yn #jeon jungguk #jungkook yandere series #jungkook yandere #yandere bts #yandere!jungkook #hobisstar writes #jungkook ff #jk bts #jeon jk #spooktober

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kabukiaku · 7 months

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Hi there! I recently joined the Ghost fandom and discovered your art, and I wanted to let you know that your work has brought me so much joy! Your drawings are so beautiful (I've reread your Terzomega Valentine's Day comic SO many times!) and I absolutely L O V E your dolls and plushies!!! (I recently got all of the supplies to start doll customizing and seeing you have so much fun with it is hugely inspiring!!) And I can't count how many times I've watched your animatics; they're SO incredibly funny and well made!!!

This is all to say: thank you for making so many wonderful things! Looking forward to what you make next, and I hope you have a fantastic day!!! 😊

(P.S.—I was so happy to see Kalluzeb while I was going through your art tag; they're SUCH a good ship!!!)

(P.P.S.—HELLO FELLOW THE SORCERER'S APPRENTICE (2010) ENJOYER!!!! I've literally only met one other person who has seen that movie 😆)

OP THANK YOU SO MUCH AHHHHHHHHH!!!! delighted to know you enjoyed my work. and for being a sorcerer's apprentice 2010 enjoyer. Horvath my beloved.

thanks again for stopping by, ive read your tags through my notifications and loved every one of them. you made my day 🥺🖤🖤🖤🖤

#ask kabuki #never be afraid to comment on my work guys im am always thrilled to see what you think!!#even if its keyboard smashing of excitement. anything. i love reading your feedback.#keeps me going <3 #excentricanthropologist

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love-toxin · 2 years

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Okay but Eddie being the babysitter for you and Steve! And getting thrown into the family because the two of you cannot keep your hands off of him. And he loves the love

ehe <33 i went a lil feral <333

cws: dilf!steve + milf!sunday school teacher!angelface, babysitter!eddie, age gap (38-40, and 22), fears of infidelity (but its resolved), masturbation, pillow humping, (a+v) fingering, throat fucking, ball worship, rimming, assplay, scent kink, angel has a cum kink, threesome, voyeurism, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, praise kink, sub!eddie, dom!steve, switch!angel, fem reader.

word count: 8.8k (90% smut)

Edward is so, so cute.

You noticed his look at first--the aesthetic he's got going on is really quite something, with the ripped jeans, and the hair, and the....the rings on those long, thick fingers. He was a little off-putting at first because he wasn't transparently shy, more blunt than anything else as he introduced himself. He's not like some of the other young girls and boys you and your husband had sifted through, almost all of them preppy young teenagers or prepubescent middle schoolers looking for a crack at their first job.

Edward--Eddie, is a little older than that. Which some might find strange or untrustworthy, but he's only around twenty-two, so still young. They would find him uncouth for many other reasons anyways, so it's not really a bother--you and Steve wanted someone older, someone more mature and hopefully more responsible anyways, because you've been looking for a long-term sitter and the high schoolers you picked before....oh, Steve was not happy when you came home early and found them throwing a party in your house, while your son was fast asleep in his room.

On the other hand, your check-ins with Eddie over the last few months have been stellar. Not only has he managed to follow all your rules, but your son absolutely adores him. It's hard enough at your respective ages, with you at 38 and Steve hitting 40 this year, to wrangle a seven-year-old with his own agenda. But Casey has taken to Eddie like a bee to honey and he seems to have no trouble getting him through his daily routines. Toothbrushing, bedtime, and eating vegetables is like a dream when it's in Eddie's hands--the kid thinks he's a god, and Eddie's so thrilled whenever he can talk to your son about his hobbies, so it's a match made in heaven. He's even started reading The Hobbit to him before bedtime, and you can see the joy on Steve's face whenever his son climbs up into his lap and starts excitedly chattering to him about orcs, and dwarves, and dragons, and whatever else tickles his fancy. You're sure it's because he reminds him of Dustin in those moments, and it's just so sweet.

Of course, a couple moms and older ladies at your church meetings had expressed worry at first, discontent even with your choice of caretaker, but you've been quite happy to report nothing but solid results out of the young man over the last few months. Casey's even taken to asking if Eddie can come over and play when you're at home--"Mommy, call Eddie! You and daddy hafta go out, I wanna play dragons!"--so you would think their minds would quickly be changed. But not so.

"He's a fan of that heavy metal music, he can't be good with kids. What if he indoctrinates your son, or converts him? Besides, he deals drugs! You can't ignore that."

Their criticisms fly over your head with nothing to hold them down, and while the drugs do worry you a bit, you have nothing but pure faith in Eddie to keep any of those habits out of your house. He never even smells of smoke when he comes to babysit, and the one time you did catch a whiff of cigarettes when Steve called him in last minute, he apologized and offered to change his clothes as soon as he spotted your nose crinkling up. Such a sweet boy, how could you even try to be upset? Steve lent him an old polo and jeans, and the two of you got a good chuckle before you left at watching him shimmy around in those clothes that were so not his style. But he committed to it because he's just....Eddie. That's just how he is.

And you're not sure when you started thinking of him that way, as Eddie, and not just as your babysitter, but it certainly hasn't gone away on its own. At first it was just a fancy, a cheeky "oh, isn't he cute? I bet the girls love that hair." that you've heard from all manner of female gossip. Even being a Sunday school teacher you aren't immune to it, so you figured that fluttering of your heart when he calls you "Mrs. Harrington" would go away with time.

But it hasn't. And the fear has been growing--what's wrong with you, you've wondered? You've been with Steve for years, and not once have you ever been charmed by someone other than your husband, not to the extent of thinking about them when you're with him. Steve's always been the love of your life since you were eighteen, so what could have possibly changed in all those years? Is it a midlife crisis? Or are you just a terrible person for thinking about another man, a younger man, while you're next to your husband in bed?

It isn't until you start noticing things about Steve that you realize that you might not be the only one, and that it might not be just a you problem. At first it's subtle, a "Hey Eddie, you wanna stay for a drink?" after Casey's gone to bed and you've both arrived home from your date. Then you notice the looks he's giving him--the long, lingering stares when Eddie laughs or flips his hair over his shoulder, sometimes a flicker of a look when he bends over. And soon after that, you notice that he's getting further from Eddie. Steve's buying you more gifts, and your sex life ramps up dramatically; you go from two or three times a week to every night, Steve moaning into your ear that he loves you, he loves you so much, and that worries you even more. By then, has he already strayed? Are you watching his guilt unfold after he's broken the vows of your marriage?

Clearly that's not the case when you get some time alone with Eddie, though. It's quite obvious that he has no earthly idea of your feelings or of Steve's, and there isn't a single clue of some kind of secret affair that you can find. In some ways, you feel a little stupid for searching for one in the first place, because maybe you're just projecting your own guilt on to your poor, sweet husband.

That is until you catch Steve in the shower late at night, jerking off and moaning Eddie's name into his hand. If that isn't a tell, literally nothing could be. But it's a fortunate affair if not incredibly humiliating and shameful for your husband in the moment, shock and pain clear in his eyes when you pull the curtain back and catch him red-handed. It's adorable actually, seeing him so guilty and apologetic as he tries to tell you how much he loves you, and how he's so ashamed of himself but he doesn't know what to do--he certainly wasn't expecting you to admit your own feelings, nor for that humiliation to turn into lust as he pinned you to the shower wall and didn't let you down until the water ran cold.

After that, you came to a crossroads, and you both had to be honest with yourselves. Should you let him go? You both knew how desperately he needed the money, and you were sure it would devastate Casey not to have him around anymore, but how ethical would it be to be paying someone you both want to sleep with? What if your feelings leaked out and Eddie felt pressured to stay, or worse, felt he couldn't leave because of the money? It's such a difficult decision that you just had to leave it for a while, too wrapped up in your emotions to make a proper choice--you both just decided to keep things hidden for now, at least until you can find a better solution than firing him out of the blue for reasons beyond his control.

It doesn't stay that way, though. It certainly doesn't. Because now, you're living day to day with Eddie on your mind, and tonight's the night that you're not so sure it's completely one-sided anymore.

It's just barely past two am, and your key clicks so quietly in the lock that even you can barely hear it. You and Steve have been off on a couple's vacation for the weekend, but contrary to what you were hoping, you're both feeling more exhausted than refreshed. First, the hotel you'd booked months in advance had sold your room out from under you, and you were forced to find a much cheaper, much dingier one to sleep in at the last minute. Then Steve had his wallet stolen, and you spent the better part of your first vacation day calling people and looking around the resort for it. Then some drunk guy at the restaurant Steve had proposed to you in started harassing you, and the two of you were kicked out for Steve's less than delicate way of handling the situation, which was to clock the douchebag in the face after he called you a whore. And now you've just spent hours in traffic trying to get home early, so when you stumble into the front hallway of your home and kick your shoes off, you're so grateful you're ready to head right to bed and pass out.

"Hey, let's go tell Eddie he can go home, first." Steve whispers with a hand on your shoulder, aware and cautious of the fact that your son is definitely sleeping at this time of night. To top it all off, Eddie had called that first evening to tell you that your son had a fever and wasn't feeling well, as if your luck wasn't bad enough already.

"Let's pay him for the whole night, though. Give him a good tip for cleaning up Casey's puke."

"Of course. Aren't you so generous, Mrs. Harrington?" He chuckles, and with his loafers kicked off, he leans down and sweeps you right off your feet like you weigh nothing, and hurries on light feet up the stairs as if you're a bride again and he's rushing to toss you into your marriage bed. You pass by Casey's room and hear nothing, and Steve only lets you down when you reach the other side of the hall where the corner is, to peek into the guest bedroom that you've designated for Eddie. But when you do, and even when you flip on the light, you realize right away that he's not there--there's not even an inkling of a lump under the covers, which immediately flips your mind to worry after you've been on edge for the last three days. A reassurance is just about to fly off Steve's lips over your shoulder, something about how he might've gone for a walk, because his van was still parked in your driveway when you pulled in.

But as soon as you step back and pull the door closed, you hear it. Down the second hallway at the very end, where the master bedroom sits with the door firmly shut.

"Fuck..."

Your eyes both widen, and you share a look with your brown-eyed husband that screams pure shock. That was definitely Eddie. And that was absolutely, indisputably, without a doubt a moan.

Neither of you say a word, you're too nervous to even breathe, but Steve's features twist with anger before he can counteract it. You can both deal with your feelings about Eddie later, but having a stranger in your house while you're gone, and having sex? That's absolutely disrespectful, and you get why your husband is so flustered and stiff as he stalks down the hall towards the cream-coloured door. You follow close behind, like a rabbit on soft paws as you hurry to huddle up behind him--but just as he's grit his teeth and got his hand on the doorknob, you hear something else.

"Fuck...Mr. Harrington-"

His voice lilts, trills up to get a little louder, before his noises are muffled again--he must have clamped a hand over his mouth, but you're too caught up with the fact that your babysitter just moaned your husband's name. You can be sure now that your suspicions were wrong and that there isn't someone in there with him, because it's only his ragged breathing on the other side of the door....and you can hear the hard, sharp shuck shuck shuck of a soft, wet hand gripping the shaft of his cock, just like all those weeks ago when you caught Steve rubbing one out to the thought of Eddie in the same way. Your nails dig into Steve's baby blue golf shirt and it draws his attention down to you, the fury completely evaporated into a hot, red flush burning across his face.

In those strained few seconds, it's not your husband that opens the door. You reach past him and graze his hand as you do it yourself, carefully turning the knob and pushing it forward slowly enough that it doesn't make a sound. Relief washes over you.

Because otherwise, you wouldn't have got to see what's waiting for you in your own bed. Eddie's Iron Maiden t-shirt is rucked up, his pants and boxers in a heap on the floor, and he's hunched over your bed with one hand gripping something beneath him. You peek a little closer, and see that it's your pillow--your pillow, the one that lays on your side, pinned between his hairy thighs and cushioning his hard, rosy-tipped cock that's absolutely drenched in what you can only guess is his own spit and lube. There's clearly a big, damp patch on the dark blue fabric just beneath him, where you can see his balls squishing up against it every time he rocks into it, and...fuck. If you knew how often he had done this, you would've started humping your own pillow a lot sooner.

"Mr. Harrington, fuck--fuck, she feels so good..." Now it's your turn to warm up, Steve's hair tickling your cheek as he looks over your shoulder with just as much entrancement. You watch with bated breath as Eddie pounds your poor pillow into the bed, the hand he was muffling himself with finally spared to reach behind him and slowly work its way down--and you can't miss how slick his fingers are, his hips stopping for a moment or two so he can find the spot he's looking for. "S'gonna be okay, I can take it, I know you're big, I can take it,"

That cute, taut little rim slides open easily with the lube, but Eddie still moans and his hips kick up on instinct when he pushes a finger inside. It isn't until he starts bucking again that you finally notice the hand sliding down your ass, and your squeak of shock gets smothered by your husband's other hand as he claps it over your face, murmuring so quietly into your ear not to move as his fingers travel further. The flimsy sundress he convinced you to wear is obviously coming in handy for him, because your panties move easily and in moments, he's got two huge, hot fingers buried inside your cunt and your slick dripping all over his wrist.

"M-Mrs. Harrington--please, please let me cum, I'll be so good-" Eddie pants, completely oblivious to the squirming woman in the doorway and her husband's pants tenting as his cock strains for warmth. "I-I'll never cum in your panties again, I promise! I'll save all my cum for your pussy,"

You choke at that, and you're yanked back into your husband's chest with a hush and a stiff prodding into your lower back. Eddie's so far gone he doesn't notice though, and fortunate for you, because with Steve rubbing your clit as you listen to him call you baby you really aren't going to last long. Especially not when you can see when he hits his own hot spot inside, and buckles like he's just been shot, his face planting square into the sheets as he keeps working his fingers and humping your pillow with his cock leaking everywhere. He's close, so close, and so are you.

"Harder, please, you can be rough with me--you like it when I fuck her, Mr. Harrington? Like when I make your wife cum for me?" Steve only gets deeper, his tongue on your ear as he curls his fingers into that spot that blinds you with hot, white pleasure, and doesn't dare to stop right up until you're so hot it's burning--and then, when Eddie mumbles that next line to himself, it's the one that throws you right over the edge into ecstasy.

"Bet you and your wife love watching me rub one out, dontcha Mr. Harrington?"

He turns his head over his shoulder just in time to watch you crumble in your husband's strong arms, feet scrabbling for purchase on the hardwood as Steve fingers you right through your leg-shaking orgasm--and while you're writhing and whimpering into his hand, you're soaking the floor beneath you with enough clear, slick cum to run a mop clean through.

Eddie knew. Even if he was just guessing, he was definitely doing it for real--and while your head is still floaty and your body still reeling from cumming, Steve pulls his hand away from your cunt and locks the door behind him with the other, pushing you ahead to collapse into your bed next to Eddie. You can smell him, smell that hot musk of sweat and manly aroma, and if you weren't still trembling your mouth would be on his balls right now.

"About time I got to show you my nightly routine, Mrs. Harrington." He sighs, a content smile on his face despite the circumstances. He pulls the pillow out from under him and sets it next to you--and somehow he looks a little surprised when you grab it, and plunge your face into the exact spot where he'd been rubbing his cock all over it. Warm, wet, smelling of him....you flick your tongue out for a taste, and you're even happier to find that it's just as delicious as you imagined.

"Is this a joke?"

"You think I'd risk my best source of income for a joke?"

"Just checking. So you're a pervert." You feel the weight of Steve's body sinking the end of the mattress as he interrogates him, and when you pull the pillow away from your face, you're delighted to see that Eddie's sitting back with a flustered grin as your husband looms over him. Looks a lot more excited than scared, for sure.

"Only in the good way! Can I-" His hand grazes his cock, but Steve grabs his wrist and yanks it away. The other one, the one you know he was using to finger himself, gets grabbed too--but Steve brings those fingers to his lips, and slowly, intently sucks each one into his mouth without breaking their shared gaze. It's not until the last one gets sucked out with a pop that he finally makes his demands.

"Head over the bed. Lay on your back. Honey, can you give me a hand?" His voice turns so sweet when he talks to you, his soft eyes transfixed on the way you glide over the bed with ease. Eddie does exactly as he's told, and turns himself around so he's laid back with his head hanging off the edge, his curls reaching so far they nearly brush the floor. His fingers tremble and dig into the sheets when you get on top of him, but you don't straddle his cock and he whines. He won't have much room to do that again, though, not after you're finished unbuckling your husband's belt and coaxing that third leg he's hiding out from his underwear. He's already left a wet patch in the gray fabric, much like the one Eddie left on your pillow--you're just flush with gifts it seems, including the reward of watching your husband's cock bob out with that dark, flustered tip that stares you both in the face. Eddie sighs in awe, watching from his place with big, bright eyes, and licks his lips hungrily without knowing what's gonna come next.

"I'm not stopping if you gag. But if it hurts, hit my thigh." He leans down to whisper that part, and as you shimmy your way back down Eddie's torso to his lap, you smile to yourself. Your husband's a softie, always has been, always will be. As dominant as he is, he's always so sweet and doting when things need to wind down--or wind up.

"I won't," Eddie shakes his head, curls bouncing and his eyes never leaving the sight in front of him. He's in a trance, almost, watching Steve's cock twitch and hang so heavy for him, both with size and with age.

"I'm not asking you, Edward. I'm telling you. Hit. My. Thigh. You understand that?" Finally, he nods and chimes out a "Yes, sir" although your husband sighs regardless.

"Such a brat. Where do you young people get your attitude from?"

"Oh, honey. You sound like a grump! Cut the poor boy some slack--you're gonna do a good job for my hubby, right?" You speak softly, gently pulling his shirt up his chest until it's bunched around his collarbone. He seems to like that pool of arousal that you're leaking all over his belly, especially while you're perched over his happy trail and soaking his bush with your slick, since he's already trying to hump your bare cunt despite being nowhere close to it.

"Yes, ma'am." He rubs your hip affectionately, breath hitching as he leans up to watch you balance on your knees and angle yourself over him, to finally start letting his cock breach your slippery folds. "Y-You want a condom, Mrs. H?"

"No. This'll be a lesson in responsibility. You get my wife pregnant, you'll have to deal with it." Eddie looks back at him in shock, but he doesn't say a word. If anything, it shifts more towards excitement as he waits for you to move--and when you do, when you finally start sinking down on that pretty, girthy cock, Eddie cries out and writhes and grabs your waist for stability but he can't make you stop. You're too wet to try, and the stretch that fills you out when you reach the base....it's not better nor worse than your husband's, but it's different. And you just hope it's as good for Eddie as it is for you.

"How's that feel, sweetheart? Feel okay?" You coo, trying to ignore the delightful scrape of unkempt, wiry hairs against your oversensitive clit. It's even more difficult to keep that pleasure at bay when Eddie's throbbing uncontrollably inside you, and your husband is sweetly, tentatively stroking himself off over Eddie's head as he watches the show.

"F-Fuck my mouth, Mr. H," He suddenly pipes up, reaching back to grab Steve's hips and tug him closer, so his cock is barely a centimetre off his face. "Shut me up before I say something--s-stupid!"

Whatever he's thinking about saying, Steve obviously has the patience to wait to hear it--because he wastes no time in pulling back and aligning his tip with Eddie's parted lips, one hand guiding himself and the other holding his jaw to keep him open as he slowly, carefully works himself inside. Every time Eddie jolts, your hips buck and it stimulates him even more, every inch sinking deeper and deeper until he's whimpering around the obvious bulge of Steve's cock nestled in his throat. It's such a pretty sight, his chest heaving for air and his nose nudging at Steve's heavy balls, spit trailing from his straining lips up his face--and Eddie's taking it so well, you can tell even Steve is pleased to see how trained his throat is to take him already.

"You practiced, huh? You were a good boy and practiced for me?" Eddie's eyes roll back into his head at the praise, and the thought of lazily stroking your clit in the interim is blasted away when he starts throwing his hips into a harsh rhythm. Like he's suddenly been possessed by his own lust, Eddie fucks into you with wild and reckless abandon, and doesn't bother trying to muffle his own choking and gagging noises as Steve starts humping his mouth in tandem. "You like being praised? You want more? Then make me cum."

You can tell by the sounds and the humming from Eddie that he would absolutely be running his mouth if he could, although it dies down into whines and deep, rumbly moans as you ride him harder and pay no mind to how he's losing steam. Honestly, you are too, even though the feeling is just indescribable--so you compromise by laying yourself down on his chest, tits squished up against his pecs and your hips laid flat for easier access, plus an opportunity for Eddie to bring his hands up and grab tight fistfuls of your ass that seem to spur his thrusts on even more. Having yourselves lined up only a few centimetres apart doesn't take away from the adrenaline at all--it just gives him an easier time of rapid-fire bucking into you like two rabbits in mating season.

On the other hand, Steve is taking zero liberties with him. He huffs and reminds him of the stopping rule even though he's in the midst of pummeling his poor throat into oblivion, but when he pulls completely out to allow him some breathing room, Eddie's sticky, flushed face twists with want and he sticks that pretty pink tongue out to coax him back inside. Clearly he's victorious in that sense--Steve's balls smush right up against his nose as he slides back in, tightening up against him when Eddie makes a loud show of slurping him up like he's some kind of dessert. His poor adam's apple is being abused with every dip into his throat though, and with a hazy giggle, you reach up and lick that spot that keeps showing the outline of your husband's cock--and you don't expect him to push down on the back of your head to shove you into it, Eddie squealing and panting with pleasure at the strange sensation of you sucking on your husband's dick through his own flesh.

"So fucking good," Steve pants, breaking his no cursing rule for the moment to look down on you both with reverence. "Sucking me off so good. My angels, you look so pretty down there."

He tugs you back up by the hair, peering around you to watch the mesmerizing jiggle of your ass as Eddie grinds into you and smirking at the sight. Now both of your faces are smeared with your own saliva, and he happily gives you more as he spits into your slackened mouth and watches it dribble down your chin to splatter against Eddie's flushed skin.

"Such a fucking soft tongue too, christ," Your husband groans, drawing your attention back to the pretty boy beneath you that's spasming and choking back on him. "Want me to pay you to warm my balls for me? Bet you'd do it for free. Just wanna have em in your mouth no matter what."

Just for show, he manages to extract himself from those warm, wet confines and moves his hips a little higher, so his musky scent overwhelms your babysitter's face as he rests his sack right on his panting lips. Eddie's honestly so admirable--he doesn't waste any time in sucking on them, his tongue flicking out to taste each one before he pulls them into his mouth independently. If you weren't married, you'd be worried that he'd show you up for Steve's affections, but your husband clearly knows his priorities as he pulls you up to kiss you firmly on the lips. You can taste each other's sweat on your tongues, and when he moves back his hand shifts to cup your chin with a smile and an affectionate rub. And just like that, he snaps back into dominant mode.

"I'd pay you to creampie this tight little throat too, but you're gonna take it anyways cause you're such a dirty boy for me." A shudder runs through him as Eddie moans around his balls, contently devouring them with his tongue and totally lost in the taste of his musk and sweat from the long day--you can definitely relate to that feeling, because something about Steve's smell just makes him irresistible. His treat is soon pulled away with a grunt, but he's not left wanting for very long when you watch Steve stuff himself right back down his throat, like he's returning to where he belongs. The show is gearing up for its finale and you're pretty glad that Steve's already made a mess of you once, because it's been easier to stave off the next orgasm that you know is coming soon--just as long as Eddie keeps rolling his hips into you like a mindless, youthfully horny sex machine. "And you're gonna get my sloppy seconds when you blow your load in my wife. Gonna make you lick it all up and--and get her all clean for me to breed agai-nnnnh, fuck, fuck!"

Steve's dirty thoughts taper off into throaty, husky moans, his hands coming down hard to pin Eddie's shoulders to the bed so he can't squirm off--but if anything he's edging closer, squeaking and humming with moans as Steve loses his composure and brutalizes that poor, pretty neck as he chases the last few seconds of orgasm. Just to top it off, you make sure to grind your hips down against Eddie to meet his thrusts as he does so, crooning out praise after praise when he digs his nails into your waist and shakes with boundless pleasure as Steve floods his belly with cum straight from the source. If he's trying not to cum in you, he's gonna lose--and now you're close enough that you don't care, you just want it, you're losing yourself in the fantasy of being a cumdump just like Steve's always entertaining for you. When you're so close you can feel it coming on too hard to stop it, and your husband pulls out with little regard to the streams of cum that spurt out and paint Eddie's beet-red face, tilting his head up so they can both watch you come apart on top of him. His honey-brown doe eyes widen with awe as he watches you use him for your own pleasure, unashamedly grinding your clit into his bush to get that delicious pleasure you crave--and with Steve's encouragement, "C'mon honey, show Eddie how pretty you look when you cum" the room blots out and you witness nothing but Eddie's concaving stomach as you push him into his own orgasm.

It's hard to tell where you start and Eddie ends, whose fluids are churning up inside you and spilling all over his lap like a man-made puddle, but nothing in those moments matter. All that matters is the rolling waves of tingling ecstasy that wash over you one at a time, accompanied by the feeling of Eddie's nuts clenched up against your ass as your pussy pulses and milks him of all he has to spare. You're really unsure now of what you just did, but the glory that spreads through you as you come down makes it all feel hazy and good--doesn't really matter as long as this feeling lasts, even if it's just the heat of Eddie's body beneath you as you collapse and nuzzle deeper into his chest.

"Mrs. H..." He finally pants in a hoarse voice, sucking back whatever's left sticking to his mouth and trailing a hand up to rest it on your lower back. "Can't see straight...fucked me too good..."

You bury your grin in his collar, dazedly tracing circles in his shoulder as you readjust to your surroundings. When you finally manage to lift your head, you're met with your husband's groin--he's in the midst of pulling up his pants, but he pauses when he sees you eyeing him. Mostly focused on his heavy, hanging cock between his legs, still smeared with cum and spit and sweat...and although it's usually a toss up of whether he thinks you're too tired to do it or not, he doesn't interrupt and even moves closer when you reach out to touch it, and you lick a long stripe from tip to base to start polishing him off.

"Good girl...love it when you clean my cock for me. Always so gentle, huh? Ssh-" He hisses suddenly as you prop him up and suck the soft tip into your mouth, the globs of cum that threatened to fall getting licked up as you ease every last spurt of seed out of him. His hands brace your head but don't move, though you can't quite reach all the way--but when you start sliding off Eddie's cock to stretch closer and move further down on your husband's, he whimpers with sensitivity and watches with a keen eye as his cum drools out of your cunt like a faucet. You just wanna get close enough, forcing down each inch that's much easier to swallow when he's soft. When you've got the shaft all clean, though, you can get to what lies underneath, and sweetly lap at the sticky mess off your husband's balls until you've polished his skin and groomed every thatch of thick, dark hair he's got. "That's my girl. Givin' em such nice attention, yeah? You know they're yours."

Only when you're good and ready does he finally pull you off, a chuckle rising out of him when you sink back into the man underneath you--and unintentionally smother him with your tits in the process, your velvety skin falling victim to his teeth as he starts mawing at each round, soft globe of flesh. He buckles himself up and bends down to peck you on the lips, murmuring that he's gonna get some towels and go check on Casey, and makes sure to scritch the top of Eddie's frizzy head as a gesture of affection before he slips out the door and shuts it. As soon as he's gone, it gets too quiet.

"What were you gonna say earlier, Eddie?" You sit back so he can have some room to breathe, shuffling down so you can sit on the relatively clean sheets and lean back against the headboard. He follows close behind though and cuddles up in your embrace, his arms loosely hung around your waist while he rubs his cheek against you. He's unusually quiet too, breathing softly against the bare skin of your chest without a word to fill the silence.

"I....was gonna tell you I love you, Mrs. H. And I love Steve. And I love that crazy little squirt of yours. And...you make me feel like I belong. That's, uh...what I was gonna say. Stupid, right?" He jokes, but he doesn't laugh honestly. The playfulness fades away as fast as a heartbeat, and you can tell by his clinginess and the way he squeezes you tighter when you stroke his hair. The poor thing is incredibly lonely, although you've sensed that from the start.

"That's not stupid at all, darling. You know Casey idolizes you, you're practically another father to him. And Steve and I, we've loved you for a long time. We just...we were afraid we were pressuring you into a life you didn't want."

Somehow it's more nerve-wracking to say those few words out loud than it was to come on to him in the first place, but it isn't your first run around the track. You know that true feelings are much harder to be honest about, even when the person they regard is cuddled up next to you in the nude.

"No! No, never! You've been so good to me, I never...I've never been treated so well. You always made me feel safe." He sits up to look you in the eyes, his voice unusually level and mature as he keeps going. "You make me feel like I'm part of the family. Like I have a family. I mean, I do, but...my uncle needs his space, and so do I. I've mooched off him long enough. Although I guess I'm just mooching off you guys, now..."

He rubs at his arms, tentatively reaching behind his head to pull his shirt completely off and dump it with his other clothes. But he looks so dejected, depressed, like he's expecting you to realize that he is a mooch and throw him out of your house. His eyes flutter back up to you when you touch his cheek, however, and he listens intently as you spill out your heart-to-heart.

"You are part of our family. Our home is your home. You're not mooching off us if we're asking you to stay--you never have to, but you're always welcome here. We can't get enough of you." You shrug your shoulders, offering a sincere smile that he returns--and soon it turns to giggling, the high leaving you both bubbly and floaty like you just got done smoking a joint. For a moment or two you don't feel like you've got a ten plus year age gap, but that you're both young and foolish and passionate like you've always been at heart.

"....I was also gonna tell you you have the tightest pussy I've ever felt, holy mother of Ozzy-" He sighs dreamily, and you swat at his arm with an "oh, stop it", but his smirk doesn't fade. "Seriously. Thought you were gonna choke me out. I can't believe you're a mom...you've got a better body than I've ever seen in a magazine. No wonder Steve's such a monster in bed."

"I think you're underselling yourself, sweetie." You coo, leaning in close so he can practically taste the last hints of your perfume. "I wouldn't feel so tight if you weren't so beautifully endowed." You reach down and grope his soft, yet still slick cock, and watch his expression twist with open-mouthed awe and pleasure as you stroke it in your hand. Watching it twitch like crazy in your palm stirs something up in you, and your belly knots itself up as Eddie grows harder and harder under your touch. He's still so sticky--you reach underneath with your other hand and giggle as he gasps, and you're right, even his balls are all messy too. Now that you've got a grip you can feel the heft of them, full of that thick, creamy stuff that drives you crazy, and your fingers weave through the matted patches of hair to feel every curve and give them a squeeze to gauge how much you've got to work with.

"Never woulda thought the sunday school teacher'd have a kink like that," He mumbles, but it's a tease, his lips curving up into a smile as he hovers his hand between your own legs and presses his fingers into your clit--and, just like he hoped, he draws a whine and another squeeze out of you. "Now, you know I desperately wanna lick the cum out of you, and I know you're just dying to get your tongue on my nuts,"

He leans into a whisper, rubbing your soft little button harder so you have to clench to keep all that mess inside. "So why not sit on my face? And I'll give this pretty pussy so many kisses, just like she deserves..." He keeps leaning further, boldly brushing his lips against yours until you close the distance for a kiss--and it's so cute how smug he looks when he pulls away, totally unaware of the side you've been keeping down that you usually save for your husband's worst, most tiring days, when he needs someone else to take control.

"Lay back, sweetie." You charm him with glittery eyes, watching intently as he pulls his fingers away and sucks them clean of your arousal before he follows your order--but instead of climbing on top at once, you reach beneath yourself and plunge your fingers inside, swirling them up with a thick coating of sloppy cum that you transfer to him....but not where he would've expected. You watch his expressions as he sits up and sees what you're doing, circling that tight rim that's exposed to you now at this angle. If he wants you to stop, you're sure he'll say something, especially when you meet his gaze and slowly ease your slick finger inside him.

But he doesn't speak up, doesn't shake his head, doesn't push you away--Eddie just watches, legs shaking as he spreads them wider and fists clenching against the sheets when you dip your head down between them. Seeing his hole swallow up your finger so eagerly is cute, especially with those tantalizing balls heaving just above it and clenching when you curl your knuckles, searching for that spot to hook into that's gonna make his cock spurt all over his belly. He takes it well, he's clean, and he's tight. You can't help but think that Stevie's gonna adore this--and when you lave little kitten licks over his rim, getting a taste of that bitter sweat and cum off your hand, and his hips jump with a jolt of pleasure? It's so sweet you could just die. Your hair shifts suddenly and you feel a warmth on your scalp, though you don't peek up until you've wiggled the tip of your tongue against his hole a little more. But when you do, you're pleased to see Eddie hunched over you and his hand on your head, bottom lip pinned between his teeth as he strokes you devotedly.

"L..Love it when you do that..."

"Do what?" You tease, working your finger slowly back and forth as you wait for an answer, and planting a wet kiss on his sack when he takes too long and has to groan it out.

"F-Finger me. Love it when you finger me, and...u-use your tongue, and stuff...s'gross, but it feels..." A sigh makes its way out of him, long and whiny when you press another finger in alongside the first, and spread them both out. You can catch a glimpse of some pearly shimmers of his own cum when you do, getting creamier when you churn them around with your curious fingers. "Feels incredible. No girl'd ever do this for me...they'd think I was crazy-"

"That's why I'm a woman, Edward. Stevie likes it too." You work on searching for that spot again, letting a glob of spit shoot out on to his rim to massage it in and lube him up a little more, which he seriously seems to like--or at least his cock does, because it twitches and bounces at full stiffness now, completely erect and needy and leaking already.

"You do this to Steve?" He asks in a hushed whisper, eyes big and shocked. He's probably imagining it....oh, he's clenching so hard, he's definitely thinking about it.

"All the time. I'll eat him out in the shower after work," You grin, having clearly caught his rapt attention, and test his resilience by making use of your other hand to massage his balls as you talk. "And he'll moan, and moan, and moan. So shy about it, but as soon as my tongue's inside him he forgets it all. Whimpers like a little princess."

Eddie throws his head back, adam's apple bobbing to and fro as he swallows down his cries. It's a lot harder to do when you start holding his rim open and sticking your tongue inside, only allowing him a moment or two of mind-bending pleasure before you pull back and leave him gaping and empty.

"I-I'd watch that," He finally pipes up, trying desperately to cling to his confidence. You really can't wait until he drops the act entirely, and gets to the point that he's grinding into your mouth and begging Mrs. Harrington to eat him out.

"And you'd rub yourself raw to it, wouldn't you? Then you'd beg me to do it to you, too."

"Mh-!" He squeaks and his head cranks back down to watch you lap at his hole, the hand on your head now clasped over his mouth because he can't go without seeing you work for a second longer. But he nods his head frantically in agreement, and that's when you finally tug your fingers out and use them to push his cheeks completely apart--because you reward honest boys, and it takes a lot for a nice boy like him to admit he enjoys having a woman of the church's tongue up his asshole.

"...That's how I found out Steve liked you, Eddie. He was touching himself in the shower, moaning your name." With a grin that's gonna haunt his wet dreams for the rest of his life, you tease his newly-empty hole with the tip of your tongue and let it wriggle there, testing his reactions and the sounds muffled by him biting his index finger out of desperation. The tears glistening in his eyes make him look so pretty, the embarrassment and shyness something you can enjoy now because it won't last--and you plunge your tongue inside him, completely bypassing any resistance he might have had that's now been loosened by your efforts.

"Shit! No, fuck, that's so fucking hot, fuck-!" He grunts, playing with his own cock like he's not really trying to make himself cum--he just wants it out of the way so he can watch you bury your face in his ass. His balls sit high on your face and they're so much heftier when they're spilling over you, swollen and soft and smelling so manly. It's like a dream, a beautiful, sexy dream, and with how floaty your head is right now you're not altogether sure it isn't a dream. The determined and near-feral manner in which you're tongue-fucking your babysitter could very well be something you've just concocted in your mind and gotten too involved in....but the fingers digging painfully into your scalp feel a bit too real, and so does the chuckling that vibrates through your mouth and up his spine as you feel Eddie squeeze his tight ring around your tongue. A knowing smirk makes way for your lips to seal around him, to suck the incredibly sensitive skin that you've teased into vulnerability, and with that one motion you get exactly what you wanted.

"No, no no no no! Fuck, fuck, cumming, cumming!" You've never heard Eddie so needy, voice nasally and high-pitched like he's in pain, but it's the complete opposite. Once he starts humping your face, he can't stop, and he rides your tongue so hard and for so many harsh thrusts you nearly believe he's not gonna let you pull it out. But he does, once his poor, weeping cock finishes spitting another load all over your hair and his belly, and he drains his balls so dry they tighten up and then flatten until they're completely soft. Only then do you manage to extract yourself and sit up, tongue lolling out your mouth as you heave and gasp for air as if you'd just dunked your head underwater.

And Eddie's done when you come up. He falls back and lets his back hit the bed, chest rising and falling hard enough for you to watch him take each breath. You nudge his knees apart to take a peek, and while his cock is limp and still twitching with a spurt here and there, his hole is flushed and spasming with the aftershocks. It's gaping just wide enough to wink every now and then, and you're sure you can call that a job well done. If only you could take a picture to save it forever.

"It's me," Timing as perfect as always, the door clicks open and your husband pokes his head in, a bundle of towels under his arm and a glass of water he stretches to hand you before he shuts it with his foot. "Wore him out, I see."

"Yeah, we had fun. Casey?" Steve slides in beside you, dropping the towels in front of him and throwing one over Eddie's sticky chest, before tugging his polo off for the first and last time tonight to toss it to the floor.

"Sleeping like a baby. Saw his cup in the sink, Eddie gave him his medicine--he won't wake up for awhile." He greets you with a kiss on the cheek, but you redirect him with your hand on his chin to plant another on his lips--and you know he knows exactly what you got up to when your tongue slithers into his mouth, and he hums at the overwhelming taste of Eddie that you pass on before you pull off with a loud, wet smack.

"Aw, well done! Poor thing hates the stuff, I'm proud of you." You rub Eddie's knee that's collapsed into the bed, feeling smug and proud of yourself at wearing out someone more than ten years younger before you've run out of steam yourself.

Maybe it's cause you've just had to keep up with Steve, who's been a stallion ever since he was fucking you in the backseat of his BMW at the drive-in movies after graduation. You'll never forget the time he made you cum so hard you squirted on one of those dates, and had to throw his jacket over your lap to cover your soaked skirt when he dropped you off at home....and how he came right back the next morning with a handful of roses, asking bashfully if you would be his girlfriend. He's become even more romantic as he's matured--but he's never dropped that insatiable lust for you, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

"What can I say? Best babysitter ever." Eddie pants, grinning up at both of you with his pearly whites glinting in the low light, although his eyes are half-lidded and he's already starting to doze off. You really did wear him out...but you're looking forward to telling Steve about your rather enlightening conversation.

"I guess we're lucky Casey's not getting up til noon," Steve murmurs quietly as you take a sip and pass the glass to him. "Can't imagine Eddie's gonna have any energy for wrangling our kid at six am after this."

"I don't think any of us will have the energy to get up early." You giggle, falling victim to your husband's firm kisses as soon as he sets the water down on the nightstand, his toned arm coming up to cup your cheek as he moves you to lay back against the pillows. He takes a moment to turn back and grab each of Eddie's deadweight legs--because by his snores, he's already passed out--and move them carefully over so he's laid out on the side of the bed and not splayed out in the middle, but returns right back to your lips as his fingertips graze your sides and send shivers up and down your spine.

"I'm not sleepy yet. Are you sleepy?" You shake your head, feeling a girlish flutter in your heart that takes you right back to those days of your early romance. It's one of the many reasons you still feel such intense love for him, because he reminds you of how happy you were then with every headrush that comes from a kiss, and every time he makes you giggle with a joke or a sweet gesture just like he did when you were dating. "Then I think a certain hot momma I know needs some me time."

"Me time?" He nods, a "mhm" hummed into your lips as he steals another kiss, before planting a firm, squirm-inducing one right at the soft spot of your throat. "What kind of 'me time', may I ask?"

Steve leans close enough to your lips that you're sure he's going in for a deeper kiss--but when he hesitates, your mouth is already parted, and you feel that puff of hot breath on your tongue as he mutters in as low and rumbly a tone as he can get.

"Me 'eating this pretty pussy until my wife cums on my mouth' time. Obviously." He smirks, and flicks his tongue across your bottom lip to hear you moan for him already. Knowing Steve, this is definitely gonna keep Eddie from sleeping soundly in the same room, especially when he's got that look in his eyes. But...at least now, you don't really have to worry about waking the babysitter anymore.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #steddie x reader #steve x reader x eddie #dad!steve harrington #milf!reader #spicy writing #st 4 #stranger things #ellie writes #anons

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pebblysand · 21 days

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Why’s fan fiction so bad these days.

hi anon! i can't tell if this is a dig at my fics, a dig at other people's fics, or just a standard observation. having said that, i typically don't answer asks that don't say hello/thank you/some sort of minimal human acknowledgement but i did find this an interesting question to raise, so.

i don't necessarily think fanfic is "bad" "these days". IMO, the ratio of good v. bad fic has been pretty much equal in most of the fandoms i've been in overtime. about 30-40% are so bad they're unreadable (i'm talking: awful grammar, terribly OOC, plot that makes no sense, etc.). about 50-60% are "a bit meh", meaning that if you're in a very small fandom where there is nothing else to read, you'll probably read them out of sheer content starvation, but they won't really give you anything of substance. if you're in a big fandom with loads of content, you'll probably pass on them. then, you have probably about 9% that are really good. this, to me, is the stuff you would recommend if you were building a rec list for others, which you believe everyone should read. and lastly, you have the top 1%. those are the fics that have taken your breath away, are imprinted in your brain forever, you've re-read them ad nauseam and have written love letters to the authors about.

i find this ratio pretty much invariable. it was the same when i was writing for Silk, for The Good Wife, and now for HP. it also seems to be the same per HP niche. to me, there's a top 10% of post-war fics, there's a top 10% of harmony fics, etc.

but the major thing to note here is that what is top 10% for me might not be top 10% for you. that's why you don't have everyone reading or reccing the same things, and that's the joy and the beauty of diversity of taste and opinion, as far as i'm concerned. it's why i disagree with your general assessment that "fanfic is bad" "these days". that's something you think - not necessarily something someone else would think, on the basis of the content published. to give you an example, in hinny circles, i see floreatcastellum and northumbrian recommended a lot. on tiktok, i see manacled recommended a lot. having skimmed through these works, they -- personally -- do not do anything for me. but that doesn't mean they're "bad" fics. i'm sure they're great fics. they are loved by many, many people. they're just not something i vibe with, and they're not in my top 10%. just like loads of people think my fics are not for them. and that's absolutely fine. as long as you don't come in screaming in all caps insulting authors whose works you don't vibe with, we can all very happily coexist.

having said that, i have to admit that as far as my taste goes, i'm currently building a massive Google Sheets rec list (yes, coming soon, i promise ^^). one of the things i'm tracking in this rec list is the date of publication/completion of the work. and from what i can see at this stage, the average date of publication of my top 10% works is 2016. which, i think, does also say something. while i do still find loads of fics published semi-recently that i like, i also do have to acknowledge the fact that if we're looking at my own personal taste... you're probably kind of right.

so, why is fanfiction so bad these days?

i think a large part of it is that my personal taste doesn't necessarily align with that of the wider public. i'm not on-trend, let's say. AUs are pretty much the gold standard now, and particularly what-if AUs (e.g. what if Harry was a Muggle? what if Ron was in Slytherin? what if Sirius survived? etc.) you see tonnes of these recommended on reddit/being published all the time. loads of people are also interested in more exploration of characters and niche ships i'm personally not interested in (marauders, death eaters, etc.) there is also a prominence of fluff (or low-stakes romantic angst), particularly in the hinny, dramione and drarry fandoms. it's escapism from canon (and possibly, escapism from the harsh reality of our world), that i just personally don't vibe with/am not looking for. we see this in original fiction as well, with the drive towards fantasy/romantasy in recent years, and more recently still, with "cosy" literature. i don't particularly enjoy these genres in original fiction either, so i think that's probably also why i don't particularly vibe with the fanfic in that same trend.

i also think, just overall, there is less content being published in the HP fandom in general. thus, proportionally, less fics people will vibe with. this is in part simply due to the age of the source material (this happens to TV shows a lot: once a series is over, people tend to gradually drop out of fandom). it's also, i believe, due to the fact that there was a boom of fandom involvement during covid (as people had nothing else to do), and that people have now gradually dropped back out. lastly, it is probably also due to the fact that a large portion of people who used to be in fandom have dropped out due to JKR's controversial opinions. all of these things combined means that there is less overall content, and thus less content you're going to like as an individual.

additionally, globally, many countries are currently experiencing a cost-of-living crisis. this matters because, as i always say, "fanfiction is a rich person's hobby". meaning that: if you're going to truly make an effort in writing, and truly get involved in fandom, you need to have time on your hands. time you won't have anymore if you're struggling, having to work multiple jobs to make ends meet. writing at a high level is a massive time suck and very few people, right now, can afford to spend hours upon hours producing free content. it's sad, but it's true. so, of course, that's inevitably going to drive good writers out of fandom. and, sadly, it will disproportionally impact good writers, because they will be the ones who will spend the most time on their craft. it's very quick to write shit fic with loads of grammatical mistakes, much harder/longer to write something high-quality. it also disproportionally impacts, of course, marginalised communities, who will then not produce the high-quality content that represents them.

lastly, i also think that one thing that demotivates writers at the moment, is an overall drop in community engagement. i was very reluctant to buy into this up until very recently because, tbh, i always get the ick when people try and argue that things were "better before" but i have to admit... i've been getting loads of comments/DMs lately from people telling me things like "i never typically comment on fanfic, but...[your fic is great]" or people coming out of the woodwork telling me they've been reading castles for years, without ever making contact before. and, not to criticise any of these people, because i truly cherish every single comment, and i understand people might feel very nervous engaging, but you have to admit that if So Many People do the same thing, you end up in a situation where many good writers get demotivated thinking no one is reading their fics because they're not getting any engagement. and, while yes, people should write for themselves first, it's easier said than done when you're just posting into the void.

so, yeah, idk, maybe instead of complaining, we should be looking at making writing conditions better for online writers and encourage more diversity in fandom. you're always going to have trends and writing styles that you more ore less vibe with, that's immutable, but creating the conditions for more voices to be able to participate is definitely a very large factor in that.

#asked and answered

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halfmoth-halfman · 1 year

Text

we're starting to get into the spooky months now, so what better way to close out the summer vibes than with a fic rec list!!

unfortunately, the original of this post got messed up through my queue and it left me discouraged and not really with the energy to go all out like i usually do so i apologize if the reviews are a little lackluster this time around, but i did love and adore every single one of these fics 💜

if you wanna see more more of my fic recs and favs, i have em all on my recs blog, here!! please note the navi page is still under construction!!

and of course, if you have any fic recs of your own, feel free to send em my way here or on my sideblog - i love finding new fics and writers!! 💜

Javier Peña

birthday bash || a pile of cards - @mvtthewmurdvck

✧ what else can i say? cute. adorable. perfect. made me feel like it was my birthday, because this was fic was such a gift. i don't know how jo is able to write the cutest and most fun relationship dynamics, but it makes my heart soar every time.

late night texts || iv. before the gold and glimmer | bonus scene: phone sex | v. you make me feel wild | vi. the place where i want to be | bonus scene: wicked games you play | vii. oh the sweetest thing - @mvtthewmurdvck

✧ i will never not be in love with the way jo writes javi, and the absolute beauty of her writing. the way this relationship builds and feels so real with equals parts teasing and the shyness of the first time meeting someone you kinda sorta know always leaves me stunned.

John "Soap" MacTavish

run away to me || i. - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ i'm warning y'all now, hal has spoiled me this month and a lot of the fics on this list are gonna be hers. but to start we're talking about this fantastic fic. blacksmith!soap was not something i knew i needed and i am foaming at the mouth to see where this goes.

soap comforting reader - @nrdmssgs

✧ coming from someone who's had very similar anxieties around meeting a significant other's family, this hit very close to home and was so. damn. sweet. i love this so much and soap being an absolute sweetheart here was just icing on the cake.

John Price

glitter and gold || snippet - @writeforfandoms

✧ i could talk about this fic for hours. not only have i read it about a hundred times, but this fic helped inspire me to start drawing again. one of my top favorite comfort fics, everything about it is perfect. dragon!price being so in love with his wife, princess!reader finding joy and love and freedom with her new husband, the little appearances from the rest of the 141. it's all just perfect.

cardigan || part 1. it starts in a bar - @as-is-above-so-below

✧ price x teacher!reader was a lovely idea that i have been waiting for with baited breath and it did not disappoint. esp this part:

“Believe me. I get it. My career makes it difficult to find time for much of anything.”

“Yeah, well, I have sixteen kids.”

i love sassy teacher!reader.

songs that sound like sea-foam || (ii) | (iii) - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ this fic destroyed me. i had to call my mom and talk to her about it because i loved it so much. idk how to describe it, this filled me with a beautiful sense of longing and nostalgia of the classic fairytales my parents used to read me before bed

all, most, some, none - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ mmkay just one second while i-

lions and ibexes - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ i love husband!price, don't get me wrong, but i think farah was the real star of this fic. her characterization is wonderful, and the talk she and reader have is so sad (for lack of a better word) but also hopeful and real. i want to have a love the way hal writes it in her fics.

late night cookies - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ perfect dad!price fic right here. really hit me right in the unresolved daddy issues. good job.

where did you sleep last night - @captainfern

✧ i might just be a sucker for pet names like my love and darling, but this was so unbelievably sweet. reader missing price so much that they light one of his cigars just for the familiar smell of him?? i'm aldkasjl i love this so much.

glory to the reaper - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ the ability of hal to just present us with pure poetry like it's no big deal is just ugh chef's kiss. like all of this here:

How can life go on when such things are uttered to light? When they’re buried deep into your marrow like the dirt on top of a grave?

How can the Reaper knock at your doorways when love exists in such quantity…in the fractures of his eyes? Only when his lips brush yours do you understand.

absolutely stunning.

ducky socks - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ dad!price strikes again by breaking my heart in the best possible way and gluing it back together with pure sweetness and a wholesome father-daughter relationship.

Keegan P. Russ

for the weak and weary - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ i am of a simple mind. i see hal has written a keegan fic, i drop everything and read the keegan fic, i sob uncontrollably and struggle to read through my tears, i scroll back up to the top and read again.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

some nights are like that - @deadbranch

✧ insert ohmygod they were roommates meme here. i love gaz, i love friends to lovers, i love roommates to lovers, i love everything about this fic. it's cute, it's sweet, it made me giggle. 10/10 will read again.

cult of vagabonds || chapter six: storm-flying petrels - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ i crave this series like something else let me tell you, and each chapter completely delivers. reader is somehow so frustrating and so relatable at the same time, no regard for her own life but also...same.

to be in love - @lethalchiralium

✧ am i biased because i requested this? yes. but also because this is cute and wholesome and perfect and the idea of gaz buying flowers for his crush makes me smile like an idiot and keri did a perfect job with this.

paper rings - @lethalchiralium

✧ this is me staring at keri after she's written one of the most perfect gaz prompts i've ever read and giving me the cutest, sweetest, most wholesome treat.

get behind me - @writeforfandoms

✧ i love fall fair stuff. corn mazes, haunted houses, bobbing for apples, all of it. and it's even better with the addition of gaz. soap being a little shit had me laughing, but gaz being such a sweetheart (and a little bit of a tease) just had my smiling and giggling to myself.

there’s no need to panic, i’m right here now, aren’t i? you’re safe - @writeforfandoms

✧ gaz is the best boi and even more so when jen writes him. i love the way she portrays him being so soft and comforting, but also not afraid to take care of problems for his significant other. and, as someone who's had loud neighbors, i wish i had gaz there to take care of them for me too 😭

Miguel O'Hara

glass houses - @lethal-chiralium

✧ actual picture of me pretending to be okay after reading this and having my heart shATTERED INTO A MILLION PIECES HOW DARE YOU KERI

welcome to new york || 3 | 4 - @writeforfandoms

✧ i consume these chapters as if they're a decadent slice of cake made just for me and they're so fucking delicious every time. i love lyla and jess in this fic (i love everyone in this fic tbh, but i gotta support the girlies) and this part right here:

(Note to self: bring a sweater.)

literally me. i love this so much and can't wait see where it goes.

hammock by the sea - @wyvernest

✧ the way this fic made me want to enjoy a sunny july afternoon on my honeymoon with miguel in a hammock soooo bad. idk if feel-good can be used to describe a fic, but that's how i feel about this one. it's a feel-good fic, makes me soft and happy and wistful.

spider-girl!reader|| you haven't kissed me all day | jealous miguel | saying i love you for the first time - @luveline

✧ luveline never misses with the miguel fics. every single one is A+ 10/10 chef's kiss. the domesticity while also keeping miguel his grumpy self is just lakdjaksl i'm so weak for luveline's fics and her portrayal of miguel.

Multi

dead disco || chapter 6 - @peachesofteal

✧ i really gotta read this series in small doses, because the way it makes my heart ache cannot be healthy. i just want everything to work out, for them to be happy but goddamn does peach want me to suffer (and i happily thank her for it)

how do they cuddle - @homicidal-slvt

✧ this has any and everyone in it, but more importantly it has my boys, gaz and roach and that's all that matters to me. gaz being the type to do a little kiss attack is so cute and something i can see him doing and roach tracing little shapes and letters i'm screaming. also graves being an absolute menace, you're so right for that.

Nikto

ravishing allure || prologue | cake for a dead man (i) -@halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ do i know who nikto is? not in the slightest. did that stop me from dropping everything to read this series? not in the slightest. will i ever be normal about one of hal's amazing fics? not in the slightest :)

Phillip Graves

close your eyes for me, love - @writeforfandoms

✧ protective graves just does something for me. like, of course, he's a little shit and all that, but, as we've seen in canon, that man is loyal to a fault so it makes sense that loyalty would extend to his significant other. and also the way jen writes him just makes me blush and giggle so that's a plus 🤭

Rodolfo Parra

pressing their foreheads together - @writeforfandoms

✧ i read Warnings: soft domestic fluff and kissing. and knew this fic was gonna be made for me. and i was right. this fic made me sigh longingly. i am so astronomically weak for the way jen writes this man and the way she writes soft domesticity.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

the safe house has seen better days - @ghostaholics

✧ how does it feel to have such a perfect understanding of a character and then create such a gorgeous fic on top of that??

Always staying awake, always assigning himself to the graveyard shift for watch while everyone else squeezes in a few hours of rest before the sun comes up.

i am in awe of ms. ghostaholics and her beautiful ability to turn characterization into pure poetry.

hired as a live-in house cleaner - @ceilidho

✧ i👏🏼love👏🏼this👏🏼fic👏🏼 this turned me into a big ol' soft pile of hearts and mush ugghh just the perfect amount of fluff. very cute but subtle too and y'know i think that fits ghost pretty well.

the team is invited to a wedding - @rileyslibrary

✧ one thing about me: i love a wedding. and this fic right here? absolutely delivered. it's got everything: ghost, gaz cameo, a wedding, macarons. not to mention the A+ banter between ghost and reader, i love them and this fic so much.

happiness || white carnations - @lethal-chiralium

✧ happiness hurts in a way that leaves me somehow longing for more and i can't describe it any other way. i think keri is determined to figure out how many different ways she can break my heart with angst and fluff and i couldn't be more thankful.

circles and squares - @mvtthewmurdvck

✧ i know i gushed about this fic already, but i'm gonna do it again. the best way to describe my feelings about this is that i would dedicate an entire section of my bookshelf just for jo's writing. the way she perfectly balances the differences between ghost and simon. the way he's stern and struggles, but doesn't lose his snark. the way he and reader support each other while still respecting each other and they're need for space. i'm so weak for this fic.

on the edge of the universe - @kil-g

✧ it's the world-building for me. it's the captivating atmosphere for me. there's just something so beautifully haunting here, and i am desperately clinging to every little piece of it. like i'm already feral for everything isa writes, and this is another excellent addition to the collection.

civ!reader kills someone out of self defense for the first time - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ had me hooked from the opening line and man was i on edge the rest of the time. i was panicking right there alongside reader, and the portrayal of her confusion and fear and anxiety was so well done. and ghost coming in to comfort her?? i was crying. so unbelievably good.

badly wrapped secrets - @mvtthewmurdvck

✧ i just-

"Thank you, for all of this.

He nods—short, and full of understanding, as well as signalling: you’re welcome."

i love them so much 😭

blood was its avatar - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ i was fighting for my life trying to read this without blushing like a sinner in church and ended up looking something like this-

and i damn near cackled like a witch at that ending LMAO

the roommate series || lover boy - @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world

✧ i knew nothing about this series going on and when i tell you i read through it with a swiftness. my skin is clear, my knees are weak, my livestock is fed. this fic (this whole series tbh) has reached in and wrapped around my heart in the best possible way.

illicit indulgences || the ghost of you - @floralpascal

✧ i am screaming. this is so...i don't know the right word. beautiful? stunning? gorgeous? all of the above? the captivating description of loneliness, the way ella manages to capture the stubbornness of ghost missing someone but refusing to admit to himself that he does. they're so perfect and in love and i'm just alskdaj

can you imagine someone threatening you - @mvtthewmurdvck

✧ you ever hear that phrase, so nice you reblog it twice? well i have, cause that's exactly what i did with this fic. it's the least i could do for the pure artistry of this fic. i love reader here, being so confident and capable and ghost being completely infatuated by her ability and so ready to kill anyone who disrespects her.

Valeria Garza

10 years too late on that, love - @writeforfandoms

✧ hello???? this was incredible???? i am??? slightly intimidated???? and in love??? with both valeria because she's mommy and with jen because she's such a wonderful writer and i am in awe of her talent.

#moth fic recs #fave fics #monthly fic recs

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