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ncteez · 1 year

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charity f*ck (k.s)

Have you ever taken anyone’s virginity before? Well, yeah, your first time was both losing your own and taking someone else’s but, that was a long time ago. Have you ever taken the virginity of a twenty-six-year-old man who probably should have gotten laid by now anyway? Nope. Are you about to? Yep.

or the one where soonyoung has a streak of bad luck in bed and his friends make fun of him for it, you find him advertising himself on a dating app and decide to help him out.

ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | kindly leave feedback and reblog, i will kiss your forehead so fucking fast if you do.

WORDCOUNT― 12.2k

PAIRING― soonyoung x afab reader

CONTENT― virgin guy who lives with his parents!soonyoung, he’s not shy but he is very clumsy, a lot of texting so be prepared for that format for a lil bit (THIS IS NOT A SOCIAL MEDIA AU), facetime-sex, real life sex

SIDE CHARACTERS― Vernon as reader’s best friend and roommate, Seungcheol briefly as Hoshi’s friend.

WARNINGS― he’s made fun of by his friends for being a virgin, this is not an indication that you shouldn’t remain a virgin if you still are one! it’s fictional and i do not agree with mocking someone for their virginity in real life.

NOTE― i love him and i like the idea of him being clumsy during sex, i also like the idea of him being inexperienced but suuuuuuper eager to pretend he knows what he’s doing. shoutout to my redacted wife @onlyseokmins for proof reading this <3

smut tags under cut::

smut tags―big huge dick soonyoung, phone sex (ish), face time sex, masturbation, pet name: baby, making out, he eats you out twice, fingering, whining and whimpering, deep throating, premature ejaculation, desperate man wants his dick wet lmao, grinding, tit fondling/licking, clit stimulation, he bites the fuck out of his tongue to try and distract himself from coming too soon again, no condom aka cream pie, soonyoung gets feelings like immediately when u touch him ~

“Check this shit out,” you laugh, presenting your phone to Vernon with a chuckle. “right or left?”

Vernon snorts, nearly spitting out the bite of food in his mouth as he reads the bio of the man you’re showing to him.

“Depends, you trying to take his innocence or are you trying to get railed so hard that the entire building can hear?” He narrows his eyes at you, making a point to call you out for keeping him awake last weekend.

You wave him off with an apologetic look. To be fair, the dude from before knew how to make a girl moan, it’s not your fault that you managed to find a decent lay in this city. Even if he ghosted you, you assume you may have been a bad lay for him, if anything.

“I wouldn’t mind trying something new, dude seems desperate.” You swipe through his photos, seeing that he appears to be just a normal dude with normal interests. “He’s cute too, so I’m swiping right.”

Vernon groans this time, slapping a hand to his forehead and glaring at you.

“You’d better warn me if you end up bringing him home, I’m not about to listen to some guy start crying over a blowjob.”

You nod to him, sending a message to the eighty-six-year-old Soonyoung and feeling delighted at his near-instant response to you.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll make sure you’re out of the apartment if I invite him over,” You wiggle your brows as you stand to your feet and turn toward your room, eyes now glued to the open dating app’s messages. “Maybe you should go out and find a nice girl to rail to get back at me.”

“You’re so fucking weird.” Vernon laughs but feels kind of shitty because it’s not like he hasn’t been trying to get back at you for the loud sex. Guess he just doesn’t have the magic dick to make girls moan the way you do.

Not that he wants to make you moan or anything, he definitely doesn’t. If anything, he wishes you were more like the girls he brings home.

You: i’ve never seen a virgin grandpa on this app before

Soonyoung: ….i’m 26, it says that in my bio

You: I think you’re lying.

Soonyoung: do u know how to change it, my bitch friends won't tell me lol

You: why would i help you lie to the women in our city

Soonyoung: i’m not lying!!1

You laugh to yourself as you text the new sex interest in your life, wondering if he’s lying about his presumed virginity.

You: ok, twenty-six-year-old “hoshi” who is five miles away from me, you’re actually a virgin? Like for real?

Soonyoung: yea….are u here to make fun of me for it too? all the girls here just turn me down even if i offer to cook for them after

You: you’re really just looking to get laid for the first time, ever? and you’re offering to cook dinner too?

Soonyoung: yea

You: you’ve never had a blowjob or anything like that? you can’t seriously think I can believe you’re 26 and have never been laid, it’s not like you’re ugly or anything

Soonyoung: u don’t think im ugly? :)

Soonyoung: and yea I’ve had a blowjob before

You: why didn’t you sleep with her then?

Soonyoung: can we stop talking about why im a virgin

You: for now, but im gonna ask again eventually.

You’re smiling at your phone, finding him charming and awkward in how he communicates with you via messenger. Of course, you’re curious as to why he’s a virgin, even more, curious as to why he’s on a dating app looking to lose said virginity.

You: do you want my number? it’s embarrassing to have the app open in public if i wanna talk to you.

Soonyoung, on the other hand, is quite literally kicking his feet and checking your profile every few minutes just to look at you. He didn’t even think too hard about you calling him attractive then not following up on it, because the fact that you just offered your number to him in case you want to talk to him? Butterflies. Given, it’s juvenile for someone of his age to still be experiencing the typical high-school crush feelings, would anyone blame him? It’s just how he is, with or without having had sex. He can’t imagine not feeling giddy inside when he’s talking to someone that he thinks is pretty.

Soonyoung: yea :) u can text me whenever [redacted phone number]

You respond to him by texting his number rather than using the app messenger, screenshotting his contact info, and sending it to him with a sly smile.

You:

Grandpa Hoshi: :|

Grandpa Hoshi: im 26

Okay so, here’s the thing. Soonyoung is undeniably funny, witty, and kind. Another thing, he’s wildly attractive. Especially upon fulfilling your request for a workout selfie from him. So, what gives? You read the texts he’s sent that made you laugh out loud, you look at his pictures, stare at the workout selfie, and you genuinely cannot understand how he doesn’t have women waiting in line to have at him.

You: it’s been like four days since we started talking

Grandpa Hoshi: yep, almost five

You: four days of being friends but no mention of your bio on the app, yknow, where you’re begging to have sex for the first time ever?

Grandpa Hoshi: right, yea. you wanna do it? i didn’t wanna assume lol

You: not answering that til you explain why. i mean, it’s totally ok that you are but like, you’re a green flag all around so im a little worried you might have like a micropenis or something

Disclaimer, if he had a micropenis, you’d still let him use it on you. After all, hooking up is something you enjoy doing regardless of size.

Grandpa Hoshi: i do NOT have a micropenis

You: prove it

Grandpa Hoshi: right now???

You laugh to yourself but also like, it’s the first time the two of you have done anything more than bully each other. Or rather, you bully him and he defends himself constantly.

You: answer my question first

It takes a few minutes for him to respond, but you’re doing coursework anyway so it’s not a huge deal. Totally not like your ears perk up and a smile creeps across your face every time your phone goes off or anything. Definitely not.

Grandpa Hoshi: um… i still live with my parents and before u make fun of me for that pls understand that its not like i wanna be here

Grandpa Hoshi: i have a job and everything!!! im not a mooch!

He’s getting off track again. You could honestly care less if he still lives with his parents. You wish you still lived with yours, to save money at least.

You: they won’t let you have anyone over?

Grandpa Hoshi: well, that too but

Grandpa Hoshi: listen this sounds real stupid but it just never happened? even when i tried or things almost happened, it never did

You: damn, you’re unlucky. so what happened with the girl who gave you a blowjob?

Grandpa Hoshi: her boyfriend walked in

You: WHAT

You’re trying to pity him, honestly, but damn. Did he go for a taken girl? Yikes. You hate to admit the ick that just flooded your mind.

Grandpa Hoshi: its not like i knew she had a boyfriend

You: phew

Grandpa Hoshi: so yea. do u wanna help me out or not?

The whole reason you started talking to him was specifically to help him out. Now that you know he’s not some weirdo, and is definitely super hot and funny, hell yes.

You: yeah, sure.

You: about the micropenis though,

Grandpa Hoshi: right…um

A few minutes of silence, your coursework is long forgotten in the anticipation of receiving your first nude from Soonyoung. You wait, and you wait, and you wait.

You: i mean if you can’t prove it that's ok

Grandpa Hoshi: just give me a sec damn

He’s doing his best to get the most attractive angle. It’s not like he’s never sent nudes to anyone or anything, but like– this is you. The first person to actually agree to take his virginity. Should he hold it? Put a remote next to it for size? Should he have his face in the pic? Take a mirror pic?

Of course, as he’s taking several pictures of his length to try and impress you, he had to get hard first. He can’t imagine you’d want a flaccid cock pic in your inbox, and that would also mean that he’s working himself up with the amount of touching, holding, and groping throughout the past sixteen photos he’s taken and deleted. It’s at the point that now it’s actually hard to care about taking a photo, pre-cum already dripping out of him as he continues to try.

He’s entered the realm of his regular horny self, only this time he’s texting you. Someone who wants to see what he’s packing. Taking a dick pic is insanely easy once he stops thinking with his brain, and he’s quick to send you a photo of himself this time. His chin at the top of the picture, face entirely hidden, hand wrapped around his thick and leaking cock, sweatpants shoved down.

Grandpa Hoshi: [image attachment]

In all fairness, you’ve never actually cared much for dick pics. Men always look too confident even with the smallest of girth being offered through the pixels. Soonyoung though. He looks a bit desperate even with his face hidden. His cock looks desperate, his fingers wrapped around it look desperate, the way his sweatpants hug against his thighs look desperate. And now, you feel desperate. You keep your cool though.

You: oh, you were jerking off, got it.

Grandpa Hoshi: sorry can’t help it

Then he doesn’t text you back. Which is kind of a drag because he looks to be quite big in the photo alone. Maybe you’d be okay just this once to look like the desperate one. Mostly because you’re about ten seconds from trying to figure out which direction five miles away he resides so you can go palm his cock for him. Plus, the idea of an absolute simp virgin like him seeing you act a little desperate would probably be one for the books.

You: you know i can help you out with that, right? especially since you definitely don’t have a micropenis

You’re still being ignored. The silence from your phone makes your belly flip around inside of you at the image of him doing it too. He probably does it a lot. He’s probably desperate to feel good, you can imagine how he’d act if you were in front of him right now, the very idea of taking his virginity becoming entirely too attractive.

Shrugging, knowing full well what he’s doing right now in order to ignore you, you press the call button and wait. You’re a little bit nervous, mostly because you’ve never actually heard his voice before, or better yet how he sounds when he’s getting off. You’re shocked that he actually answers.

“Hello?” He says, muffled through the phone and trying to sound not-so-out-of-breath. It’s not like he looked at who was calling him anyway. With his luck, it’s probably Seungcheol or some shit.

“Don’t hello me,” You gripe, narrowing your eyes at yourself in your mirror. “You’re just gonna jerk off without me after I agreed to help you fix your little problem?”

The silence on his end is a bit nerve-wracking until you hear the frantic sound of his palm clearly wreaking havoc on him. You smirk, leaning back on your chair and sighing. On his end, processing that it was you on the other line sent his entire body into a state of burning with arousal. Your voice is sweet even when you speak with the same sarcasm as usual. God, this alone is enough for him right now.

“Were you at least thinking of me?”

He hums into the phone, indicating that yes, that’s exactly what he’s doing. His voice is kind of soft despite only hearing one word and a hum, you want to actually hear him talk to you, or moan, whichever he decides.

“Were you looking at my pictures?”

He nods his head, forgetting that you’re not able to see him and instantly responds with a small and breathy yes instead. It’s a bit difficult for him right now to talk, especially now that he can put a voice to the photos he’s been jerking off to. It’s a bit overwhelming, actually.

“Do you want better ones?” You ask, encouraging him to speak a bit more.

“Oh god, really?” He asks through the speaker, his hand pausing on his length as if to hold off until you confirm. “Like, nudes?”

“Mhm, yeah. If you want.” You smile as you speak to him, already standing to shimmy your pajamas off of you and stand in front of the mirror. “Or, you know what would be better?”

Letting me come over and actually do it? That’s what he wants to say to you, but he doesn’t, he simply raises a brow.

“What?” He asks, still keeping his responses short because despite how into this he is, he’s a bit shy about it.

“I can facetime you.”

He panics. That means you’ll be watching him too, right? Sure he’s sent nudes, he’s received nudes. He’s sent videos too, and received them. But never has he like, you know, live masturbated on facetime so someone else can watch.

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay.” You backtrack at his silence, but you’re cut off almost immediately.

“No! no, we can facetime–”

Your stomach flips again as you fix yourself quickly in the mirror before setting your phone against your desk and rolling back a bit in your chair to determine if it’ll work this way or not. It’s not like he’s expecting you to do it too, he probably just thinks you’re gonna sit here naked for him to stare at. You’re kind of excited to see him in action, to hear him in action for you.

You hit the button to switch the call over to facetime and once again adjust your phone as you stare at yourself in the camera. Then you’re needing to catch your breath at the image of him.

There he is, his camera angled towards his face and not at all toward what's going on below his waist, but you don’t mind at first. Look at him, the lighting clearly shows that he’s a fan of mood lighting. You watch his eyes briefly, staring through the screen at you before moving your eyes to his arm, the one that clearly isn’t holding his phone because you can see it moving as he continues to jerk himself off. It’s an interesting feeling to have only seen him in photos until this moment, and it’s insanely attractive for some reason. Seeing him in motion, knowing what he’s doing, knowing that he feels good right now because of you.

“Let me see,” you say quietly, adjusting your bra strap and preparing to slip it off of you if he so much as asks. “Prop your phone up somewhere like I did.”

He nods, his eyes still staring straight through his screen at you as he moves around and the image becomes a blur of movement rather than his face. He settles in quickly, somehow looking even more attractive with the way his eyes no longer stare at the screen. You can almost sense a hint of shyness from him at this moment and it kind of floors you, given how easy he is to talk to and how easily he sent a dick pic to you.

“Feeling shy?” You ask, spreading your legs wide and cupping the seat of your panties, hiding the small spot of wetness forming there. “You act like I’m not going to be touching you at some point soon.”

You see him perk up, his eyes looking to you on the screen with more fondness than arousal. At the same time, his hand grips the base of his cock as he holds it straight up, erect and glistening proudly for you to look at.

“You look pretty big, bet you could fill me up so nicely,” You try to compliment, boosting his confidence and ego as best you can simply because he looks pretty with a smile on his face. Especially when his cock twitches at the words. “Would you want to do that for me, Hoshi?”

“Oh god,” He groans, hearing his nickname come from your mouth for the first time. His hand jerks up his length once, almost aggressively as he winces at it.

“This is going to be so embarrassing.” He admits, sliding his palm up and down shamelessly now as he watches between your spread legs.

“Embarrassing, why?” You chuckle, tapping now at the spot between your legs. “Can you not see that I’m just as turned on right now?”

He groans again, releasing his length and using that same hand to swipe his hair out of his face, then immediately grimacing at the fact that he now has pre-cum in his hair. Embarrassing, all of it.

“Well,” He tries to avoid you bringing up the fact that he just did that and only shoots his hand back to his cock in order to distract whatever off-hand shit you’re about to say. “You don’t even have your panties off yet, and I could probably get off right now.”

You laugh, not wanting to ruin the mood with the whole cum on his own face thing, so you save that for later. Instead, you instantly slip your panties off and present yourself to him much like he’s doing for you.

“Better?”

Soonyoung watched with his breath stuck in his throat, now finding it harder to breathe at the image of your pussy and the way he hopes he can touch it one day.

“Can you–” He pauses, not being used to dirty talk towards anything other than the porn playing on his phone. He thinks hard, and you can see it based on the way he, once again, neglects his cock with an unmoving palm.

“Can I do what? Go on,” You urge him, running a hand up to your chest and fondling your nipples right there in front of him, but not yet moving the fabric. “What do you want me to do for you, baby?”

Baby. You called him baby. Not that he’s into that but the fact that you did it makes him wonder if he is now. Maybe it’s because he wants you to take him for all he’s worth at this point. One, to get rid of the virginity looming over his head, and two, because you sound so fucking smooth when you’re watching him get off.

“Can you spread your pussy for me?” He whispers at first, boring a hole through his screen as he watches one of your hands tease at your hidden nipples, and the other hand sliding up and down the wet folds there. So badly does he want to see it. He wants to see your hole pulsing for him, leaking, needy.

His cock twitches wildly the second you do it for him. Two fingers spreading your pussy open and tensing your hips just to move it closer to the screen for him.

“You want to fuck this?” You chuckle softly, slowly dipping a finger into yourself and pulling it back out to present the wetness for him.

“Oh,” he sighs, now fucking into his fist at a pace that proves he’s most definitely never fucked a woman before. “Fuck.”

You nod at him, urging him to keep admitting his attraction to you. You’re aware he doesn’t see it though, as his hips continue to move quicker and quicker each time you press your finger into yourself.

“You gonna act like this when I’m riding you?” You ask with a tilted head, studying how hard he’s fucking against his hand. You can imagine how good it would feel if it were you, and quite frankly, this one finger isn’t enough at this point.

“God. You’re gonna ride me?” He moans, eyes rolling only slightly as he imagines it.

“Mhm,” you hum, now sliding in another finger and scissoring yourself open with them. “Would you want that?”

Before you can even work yourself up, and before he can even answer that question, you see him release. His cum shooting out in spurts across his stomach and nearly up to his chest. His labored breathing shifts the lighting against his abs and makes it look so entirely delicious. You’ve never wanted to lick a man clean so badly in your life.

You’re not even upset that he didn’t make it into the knitty gritty, considering he’s a virgin and all and you’re literally fucking yourself in front of him while implying riding him. You’re actually flattered.

His release caused him to see white for several moments, forgetting he’s even on camera for you. When he comes back to reality, watching you continue to finger yourself as your eyes scan your screen, all he can do is feel bashful.

“Shit, sorry,” He comments with a half laugh, looking down at his cum covered chest before looking at you again. Honestly, he could probably go again if you let him watch for a bit longer, but he’s embarrassed now. “I uh, didn’t mean to come that fast. It just kind of happened.”

“It’s okay,” You comfort him, slightly out of breath as you wonder if this is all you’re gonna get tonight. “It was cute.”

After a few moments, you sense his embarrassment and slowly slip yourself back into a sobering headspace, closing your legs and trying to ignore how wet you still are.

“Are you, um, done?” Soonyoung says, disappointed.

“Mm, no.” You smile. “But it’s okay, I’d rather make you come first anyway.”

His face lights up despite the disappointment in his gut of not being able to see you get off.

“You still wanna see me after this?”

You nod with a smile, endeared by his need to give, but inability to do it.

“When are you free?” You ask, wondering if he’s ever going to clean himself up.

“Whenever you are.” He laughs, scratching the back of his head with, once again, the same cum-stained hand.

“I’ll text you later then,” You smile through the screen and give a small wave before your genuine smile turns into a smirk. “After I take care of my little problem though.”

You notice him sitting up in protest, but you hang up with a satisfied laugh and head to the shower to both finish yourself off and clean up.

Grandpa Hoshi: what about 3pm on thurs?

You: you want to lose your virginity at 3pm….on a thursday???

Grandpa Hoshi: my parents have plans so ill have the house to myself for a few hours

You: or you could just come here?

Grandpa Hoshi: if ur comfortable with that? i thought u were supposed to come here lol

You: im comfortable, plus my roommate will kick your ass if you’re weird

Soonyoung contemplates hard on that last part but shrugs over it. Probably a girl thing, and it’s not like he’s an actual creep or anything. You’d be the one with power over him when the two of you are alone anyway.

You: what about tomorrow, 8pm?

Tomorrow. Hell yeah, tomorrow. Hell, he’d show up right the fuck now if you let him. He may live with his parents but he’s got a car.

Grandpa Hoshi: send ur address, ill be there :)

“Tomorrow, you’ll be a man.” Seungcheol croaks through the speaker at Soonyoung, totally assuming that this whole virginity loss dating app plan was actually just a joke.

“Why do you have to say it that way?” Soonyoung groans back, slapping his hand over his forehead and rubbing his temples. “I didn’t think anyone was actually gonna come through, she’s the first one.”

“What makes you think she’s actually gonna send you her address?” Seungcheol laughs, once again placing more pity onto his best friend than anything else. “She’s probably not even a real person, you’re gonna end up at some old guy’s house.”

Soonyoung laughs, or snorts really.

“Oh, she’s real.”

Seungcheol sits up in curiosity this time, switching his phone to the other ear with interest.

“Hm? Have you already met her?”

“Kind of. We like, um,” Soonyoung pauses, wondering if he sounds way too excited to tell him or not. “We facetimed a few hours ago.”

Silence.

“She got naked.”

“Oh ho ho!” Seungcheol encourages him. “So you guys did some stuff on facetime and she still wants to meet you?”

“That’s what I said!--” Soonyoung smiles to himself, about two seconds from kicking his feet before realizing what Seungcheol just said. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re kind of a loser, we’ve been over this.” Seungcheol laughs yet again. “Call me when you get your cherry popped or whatever.”

Then he hangs up.

Grandpa Hoshi: do u think im a loser?

You: yeah kinda

You’re laughing at his text as you sit across the table from Vernon.

“That him texting?” Vernon quirks a brow, watching you smile at your phone and practically ignore him.

You laugh again at Soonyoung’s string of defensive texts before responding with a short “it’s okay, i like losers”, and putting your phone down to finish telling Vernon that he’s gonna get kicked out tomorrow for the night.

“So,” You clap your hands in front of yourself, glaring at Vernon. “You’re gonna have to be gone tomorrow at eight because I'm about to literally obliterate this guy.”

“Jesus, I’m scared for him.”

“You should be scared for me. Because, well…” You trail off for a second, scrolling up your texts to see the dick pic Soonyoung sent before the facetime call. “He’s huge and–”

“I did not need to know that.” Vernon sighs, scooting back in his chair and standing to his feet.

“You act like you’re not curious nearly every time I meet someone.” You roll your eyes at him, smiling.

Vernon stands there awkwardly before shrugging and lunging for your phone.

“How big?” He laughs, not actually trying to see the dude’s dick but always way too curious for his own good despite never wanting to be around to hear what the big dicks do to his best friend.

“Stop prying, you’ll get jealous.”

He scoffs, brushing off his pants of invisible dust and crossing his arms.

“I’ll have you know, my dick is perfectly sized.”

“I’m sure it is. Anyway, tomorrow, be gone.”

He nods, sauntering to the living room and flopping down on the couch.

“Keep it in your room, please. I don’t want to sit on his gross body fluids when I come home.”

It’s Thursday. It’s approximately seven in the evening on Thursday and you’re well aware that Soonyoung is probably bubbling with anxiety if his texts are anything to go by.

So many are you sures, so many you can tell me to leave if you decide you don’t want tos, and even more i can’t wait to see yous.

“Vernon, aren’t you supposed to be leaving?” You ask, opening the fridge to pull out a bottled water.

You’ve already showered again today, primped yourself up for him really. Everything smooth, soft, and ready to be touched. You wonder if Soonyoung is doing the same, and smile.

“Hm, yeah. But I kinda wanna see him before I leave.”

You turn your head to him with a curious look, glaring only slightly.

“I swear to god if you scare him off, I’m kicking you out.”

Vernon laughs, patting the couch as if to invite you to sit with him to ease your own anxiety. He can smell the familiar lotion you use before dates, and he notes that you’ve really tried to look good today.

“I think you might kill him, if I’m being honest.” Your best friend laughs softly, complimenting you.

“Thanks, that’s the plan.”

And so, the two of you sit together laughing at stupid comedy shows until your phone lights up at around eight fifteen.

Grandpa Hoshi: i’m a little early, is that ok?

“Oh shit, he’s here.” You immediately feel nervous, which is pretty normal for you anyway so it’s easily overlooked by Vernon.

He jumps up, brushing off his clothes and walking toward the kitchen to grab his keys and wallet.

“Let him in then, I’ll leave when he gets here.”

You give him a knowing look before nodding.

You: second floor, take a left when you get to the top of the stairs, third apartment on the left.

Within minutes, there’s a very gentle knock on the door and Vernon is throwing himself at it to get a look at him. Unfortunately it’s a bit more awkward than he expected it to be.

Not only did Soonyoung think your roommate was a woman, but he, at the very least, expected you to answer the door. He was preparing himself all day for this moment, to knock on your door and have you open it. At first he thought that maybe he even got the wrong apartment.

“Oh, I think I got the wrong place, sorry–”

“Nope, you’re in the right place.” Vernon smiles, stepping to the side and opening the door wider for him. “You can come in.”

Soonyoung does, awkwardly. Avoiding eye contact with Vernon and barely even looking into the apartment before stepping inside.

“She’s excited, don’t worry.” Vernon whispers, throwing Soonyoung a wink before stepping out and closing the door behind him.

Soonyoung still hasn’t really looked up from the floor yet, and you make quick work to make him feel more comfortable.

“Don’t mind him, that’s both my best friend and roommate.” You say, making your way toward him and trying your best not to stare because, okay, wow. He’s kind of ten times more attractive in person, which is fucking insane considering how good he looked through a screen.

“Have you and him ever like…” Soonyoung immediately starts, realizing he might have made things weird.

“Vernon?! Oh, god no.” You laugh, reaching for his arm and feeling him lean into it with relief. “You’re allowed to look up by the way. You’ve been staring at that crack in my floor since you got here.”

Immediately Soonyoung moves his eyes up to you, the eye contact feeling more intense than it should, but you’re locked in too. The awkwardness dissolves almost instantly, he feels no need to question you further about anything really, especially with the way he feels his throat run dry at the very idea of this whole plan actually happening at some point.

When he made his profile on that app, it was kind of a half joke until like, people started talking to him. Given, no one ever followed through but you, he’s happy he stuck with it. Happy you came out of the works from said dating app, happy you picked him.

Really though, he picked you. Part of you wonders about why you want to take this from him. For power, for control, to be praised, to feel like you’re his entire world of desire for a brief time? All of those things, but you can admit now that he’s in front of you that it’s a bit intimidating. He’s not shy at all, just a bit awkward. He seems confident, he seems ready, and you find yourself lucky for being the one to get to do this for him, or with him. If at all, Soonyoung is the type of man you could see yourself hanging out with often, with or without having sex.

Given, upon seeing him face to face for the first time, the only thing you thought about was how attractive he is. Now though, as you look back at him along with the silence of this apartment offering nothing more than awkwardness, it’s not. Because you’re seeing him for all he is and he appears to not be able to help it. Is this what people mean when they say there’s an instant spark between two people? Despite how attractive he is, you find yourself thinking of how many times he’s made you laugh. How many times he’s embarrassed himself, and now for the first time he’s right there and all you want to do is…give him exactly what he wants, or needs. Whichever.

“Okay, listen,” You start, swallowing around a lump in your throat as you feel your body heat up at record speed by just having his eyes looking into yours. You know by this point that you’re not going to be keeping your hands to yourself at all. And for his sake, he’d probably prefer it that way. “If I move too fast, just tell me to stop.”

Soonyoung tilts his head with a dopey smile, eyes still fixed on you, scanning you, coming to terms with the fact that you’re absolutely everything he thought you would be and more.

“I don’t think that’s gonna be an issue,” He admits, feeling his length confined within his pants twitch wildly at the entire situation. “I struggled not to get hard just driving over.” He laughs, looking away from you for the first time with flushed cheeks.

You find that painfully adorable. No man would ever admit that to you. Especially after just a few minutes of meeting in person for the first time, but this is Soonyoung and in the short amount of time you’ve known him, you’re kind of expecting him to be really forward and say things that will have you frozen in thought.

“Oh yeah?” You ask, grabbing his hand and leading him to the kitchen. You’re pretending that his apparent inexperience isn’t getting to you, but you’re not really fooling anyone. “Let’s get you some water or something, I can see you drooling.”

Soonyoung laughs, shrugging because yeah maybe he’s drooling a little bit. You smell fucking immaculate, your hand is small in his but still manages to overpower him, your skin feels soft and slightly cold. Honestly, it’s dangerous just having you stand in front of him right now because he could absolutely blow his load just by you looking at him. Embarrassing? Always.

He follows after you, very nearly crowding up to you as the comfort sets in and the last bit of awkwardness leaves his mind. All he can think about is how you sounded over that facetime call. He’s seen what’s between your legs, and during that night all he could think about was touching you, fucking you. Now he’s here, and you’re right there. It’s hard not to crowd up, it’s hard not to cling to you, it’s hard not to be excited. Seeing your hand wrapping around that bottle of water to give to him, seeing you lean just before grabbing it– of course he’s staring. Of course he’s crowding closer, almost to the point that he’s up against your ass when you lean back up from the fridge.

You turn after grabbing him the bottle and become shocked by his close proximity when you face him. He looks down at you with a soft face, one that shows he’s not embarrassed by how he immediately attaches to you. His smile is just as clumsy as he is, you can tell he knows exactly what he’s doing too. You’re glad, because it makes it entirely too easy to drop the water bottle, grab his face, and chase his lips all the way until he’s against the counter and kissing you back.

He sighs instantly into it, wincing at the way the kitchen counter hits his back, you pressing against him so harshly just to get that first taste of his lips. He’s excited that you seem as eager as him, maybe even as desperate as him.

For you, a man has never been this eager just to kiss you, nor has a man ever kissed you this good. You can imagine that he’s probably got a lot of experience in terms of kissing, not much elsewhere though. You can tell by the way he moves his hands to all of the right places, but his blatant virginity shows through all of it as he becomes a horny mess almost instantly.

His tongue is warm and wet, small whining sounds coming from his throat as you press yourself against him briefly. His hands never leave your body and he shows no shame in touching where he wants to touch. Rubbing, groping, and caressing every inch of your waist, ass, and even moving up to your face to deepen the kiss. His hips press forward almost constantly, and all you can do is brace yourself on the counter behind him to try and tame his relentless hips and obvious attempts at rushing what he wants right now.

If you’re going to sleep with him though, he’s gonna get the full experience, not a quickie. Plus, you agreed to keep it in your room for Vernon’s sake.

“Hey,” you sigh, trying to pull back from the kiss but he isn’t having it. Still kissing against you and running his lips down to your neck when you continue to speak. “We should go to my room, your first time isn’t about to be in my kitchen.”

“Why not?” He groans against your neck, kissing harshly with faint wet sounds, his hands wrapping tightly around your waist now. “I don’t care where we do it, i just want you like, really bad.”

Still, his lips don’t leave you, nor do his hands. You find yourself giggling against him with a shake of your head at the way he protests when you pry yourself from his grip. Of course, though, he’s immediately clinging to you and chasing after you to your bedroom before practically throwing himself at you again.

You barely get the door closed before he’s pressing you against it this time, hand running down again to your waist and easily snaking up your shirt just to feel the warmth of your skin. You let him, enjoying the way he kisses you for just the second time, enjoying more the way you can feel him lose his composure every few minutes from this alone.

You’re kind of in love with the fact that he doesn’t seem to want to pull back even for a breath. He seems to love kissing, and you wonder what else he’ll come to love doing tonight too. From the way he moves his tongue and his lips on you, you can imagine he’d be fucking heavenly at eating pussy.

Successfully you push him away again, rushing to your bed before he can make you melt against his lips for a third time, and you’re instantly trying to present yourself to him much like you did over camera.

“You’re really going to let me?” He asks with a deep breath, brushing his hair out of his face and wiping his mouth. His brain malfunctions at your presumed answer to that question, watching you take your panties and shorts off in one go and leaning back to spread your legs for him.

At this moment, you’re all his and you make it a point to spread your pussy out for him like he asked you to do before. You can practically see his knees buckle that very instant.

“To think I wouldn’t want to do this is insane,” You say, wiggling your hips for him to see. “Look how wet I am.” You pause, studying the hungry look in his eyes. “Do you wanna try eating me out?”

He doesn’t even nod. He’s immediately on his knees against your bed and grabbing your thighs to pull you toward his face. You yelp only slightly at the movement, a chuckle coming out shortly after as you sit yourself up properly to take in the image of his eyes sparkling up at you.

Your breath is caught in your throat, a small groan coming out at the image alone before you’re able to process words again.

“Can’t believe how good you look down there,” You say softly, brushing his hair out of his face for him like he did to himself earlier. “Have you ever done this before?”

He shakes his head, eyes shifting from your pussy to your face. Regardless of your shock at that, he seems like he’s waiting for a green light so you decide to cut the compliments short and raise your brows at him.

“Go on then.”

You watch him and the way he doesn’t seem to think at all when he does it. Once again, he’s adorable. His tongue goes everywhere, only grazing your clit briefly every few licks, never staying on it presumably because he’s in the process of finding the clit based on how your body reacts.

He has a general idea of where it is, but the feeling of having your pussy on his lips alone is enough to overwhelm him with arousal. All he can do is taste and smell the mixture of your warmth along with the soap and lotion you must have used before he came here.

He’s quite literally tasting the entirety of you and loving every second of it. The way his hands grip your legs, both spreading them further open so that he can tilt his head and lick at different angles, and then hugging them to where they almost lock his head in place.

It feels like he does this for ages, learning your body and what makes your legs shake. He sucks in different places, kissing your entire pussy to the point that it’s almost impossible for your legs not to shake in reaction at what he’s doing to you.

Dare you say, a man who is inexperienced at eating a woman out somehow feels better than one who knows exactly where to go.

“Fuck, knew you’d be good at this,” you compliment with a shaky voice, reaching down to his hair and holding his head in place. “Stay on my clit, use your fingers on me.”

He hums, taking note of where you place his lips and reminding himself that this is the clit, just as suspected. He attaches his lips there, kissing it much like he kissed you in the kitchen.

You can feel his fingers make their way into you, each bump of his knuckle sending a delicious sensation throughout your body. You’re tingling from your head to your toes at this point and your face heats up beyond what you thought it would. Your hips move on their own, experimentally fucking against his fingers as he keeps his tongue flicking at you.

“Just like that,” you encourage him, running your hands through his hair and looking down at him. Seeing his head move with each little thrust of your hips is only more arousing in this moment. His eyes half open, watching you, tasting you, almost smiling around your clit when he makes eye contact with you.

It almost seems like he’s asking if he’s doing well, and goddamn is he. He’s doing amazing.

“So good,” you say shortly, scratching against his scalp as a thank you, still fucking your hips up just to feel his fingers plunge deeper.

He, on the other hand, is fucking feral right now. Tasting you, dipping his fingers into you, feeling that warmth for the first time, the small clenches— he’s swimming in a fantasy. Every time you move your hips up, he can smell the entirety of you, he can feel your pussy squeeze his fingers, and god. He doesn’t think he ever wants this to end.

All day, he could do this all fucking day. No wonder men make fun of other guys for not giving head. Why wouldn’t they? He can feel your legs tensing up around his head, your gentle fingers running through his hair, the sounds coming from your lips. He’s in love, he’s in love.

He doesn’t stop, tongue flicking your clit so beautifully, fingers slowly fucking in and out of you, not even in time with your jerking hips. Shockingly, you approach euphoria so fucking fast that you can barely warn him, you’re not even thinking when you put pressure on his head, pressing his lips so harshly against your clit— his moan sending a vibration straight through you.

“Faster, with your fingers—“ you choke out, curling your toes and feeling him do exactly as you say.

There, you release with his fingers plunging in and out of you, the wet sound of your pussy only sounding more messy by the time you begin to release. In the midst of it all, you feel him pull his lips from your clit and lick around his fingers before coming back up and continuing his ministrations, working you through an orgasm you’re not even sure he knows you’re having right now.

Strings of curses, little tugs against his hair, legs shaking, all of it happens at once until the feeling of his fingers become sensitive inside of you, until his tongue is flicking a bundle of nerves begging to be left alone.

You swat him away with a smile, leaning up quickly and grabbing him by the shirt.

He doesn’t really know what the fuck is going on but he laughs with you, being pulled to his feet and falling onto the bed on top of you. You can feel his length in his pants, so fucking hard, probably leaking and feeling quite neglected.

“Did you…?” He asks softly.

You smile at him, leaning up to kiss him square on the mouth before you flip him over and get between his legs.

“I did,” You laugh in a daze, starting to work on his button and zipper. You’re reeling from the recent orgasm and wanting nothing more than to let him feel the same way you do right now. “And now, you’re gonna finally get a full blow job.”

He chokes out a nervous laugh, holding your hand in place from pulling his pants down.

“Unless, you don’t want that?” You ask, tilting your head with a bit of a frown.

“No, no! It’s not that!” He reassures you, cheeks flushing more than they already were. “It’s just that like, what if I don’t last very long? I’m kind of sensitive.”

His eyes avoid yours when he says it and once again, most adorable man award goes to fucking Soonyoung.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing?” You lean forward, kissing him again. “You just gave me some of the best head in my life.”

The light in his eyes return and instantly he’s flashing a nervous smile at you.

“Hoshi, I’ve never gotten off that fast from being eaten out.” You reassure him again, making a point to use his nickname. “If you don’t get off from me sucking your cock, I might actually cry.”

Well, he can’t have that now, can he?

He releases your grip on his jeans, allowing you to pull them down. For some reason unable to look at you despite knowing you’ve seen him jerk off before. It’s the fact that like, what if it’s suddenly not big enough? What if his cock is ugly or curved in a way you don’t like?

Before he can even start to doubt himself more, he feels your lips on the tip and instantly his eyes are looking down at you. You’re the one smiling now, using one hand to hold his base and the other hand already scooping up his balls for added pleasure.

You make a point to look him in the eye as you let the saliva collect in your mouth. There, you let it fall from the tip of your tongue, all the way until you feel the wetness against your fingers wrapped around his base.

He thinks he’s going to go fucking insane watching you like this, and god, does he. You don’t even show him your struggle of taking in the sheer size of him. Lowering your mouth until you’re taking in as much as you can. You try to keep eye contact up until you have to close your eyes.

It’s not shocking that by the point you get half of his length into your mouth, he’s fucking up without full intention and letting out a choked apology. Still, you try to force your stretched lips to smile for him, even through the gag, through the harsh feeling of his cock hitting your throat.

How the fuck has a cock this good not been worshiped before? By a mouth? A hand? A pussy? You’ll be damned not to choke on it. You’d rather eat glass than to let him leave this apartment without being completely emptied and praised for every drop.

He’s actually struggling already not to come, holding himself back but failing each time his hips chase the warmth of your throat. Each time you gag, it stimulates the fuck out of him and he nearly wants to cry each time it happens. Even with that other girl who went down on him, she didn’t even attempt to fit this much in her mouth. Most of the pleasure came from her hand jerking him off while she suckled against his head, but you. You’re down there, slipping your mouth up and down on his length, gagging, tearing up, and still fucking smiling about it.

Once again, he’s in love.

He holds his hands back at least, keeping them against your sheets and gripping them so hard that he fears he’s ripping through them. Everything feels hot, you look hot, you sound hot, your tongue still manages to move against the base of his cock with what little room it does have, and god– your other hand, massaging his balls.

“Wait, wait wait–” Soonyoung groans, fucking his hips into your mouth once again until you pull off with a concerned look.

“Were my teeth hurting you?” You ask, gasping a bit for air.

“No, i was just getting really close.”

“Hm?” You sigh in disappointment, this time going all in at once and not letting yourself stop until he’s releasing into your mouth.

You feel his shaking fingers brush your cheek when you do it, hollowing it out just to fit more, more, more into your mouth before lapping your tongue against his base again.

His groaning turns into frantic moans, his hips jerking wildly, unable to escape the clenching muscles of your gagging throat, and he’s honestly in heaven once again.

Never in his life has he felt an orgasm so satisfying. His fingers go numb when he releases, pumping himself deep into your throat and not stopping until he’s dizzy. The fact that you kept your mouth on him through it, the fact that he could still feel you gagging, swallowing, and moaning all at once through it–how?

“How–” he takes a breath, pulling you off of him so you can breathe. “How did you do that?”

You shrug with a confident smile, wiping your tears and crawling up to meet his face.

“I don’t normally do that for guys.” You say with a rasp in your voice, “I certainly don’t just swallow for anyone.”

He feels special, and fucking spent but god does he want to keep going. His softening cock twitching in a relieving way, probably glad to have finally been touched by something other than his own hand. Part of him wonders if you’re done though, because by now you’ve both gotten off and usually that’s the end goal, right?

But he hasn’t lost his virginity yet, and when he looks at you hovering above him, he already knows you’re not done with him.

“We need to let you rest until you can get hard again,” You say, kissing him more easily than before. Letting him taste himself, letting you taste yourself mixed with him. “What’s something you wanna do to get you back into the game?”

He sighs out a laugh, fucking amazed that you’re his first. How lucky is that? He thinks hard, watching the way you lift your shirt off of yourself. God, he forgot tits existed for a solid part of this day and that’s a shame because instantly his sensitive cock throbs at the image of them coming into view.

You watch him stare, trailing your hands down and lifting his shirt off of him as well.

“I don’t even know at this point.” He admits, ignoring the fact that his hair is definitely sticking up all over from you taking his shirt off of him.

“I’ll just love on you while you think, then.”

He gives a short nod, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside at the way your gentle hands caress his chest and abs before you start kissing against it.

He relaxes his body, feeling your hands and lips on him. You were right when you said you’d love on him as he thinks about it. The hard part of it is actually thinking about what’s going to get him harder the fastest. You doing this could be enough, but your tits. And fuck, your pussy.

He lets out a whine, one that feels entirely out of character and it causes you to pause your gentle kiss against his nipple and pull back.

“Already?”

He shakes his head, staring straight at your chest and then down to what's between your legs.

“I want to, um, eat you out again…”

That’s new. Twice in one session? You’re not going to turn that down.

“Oh yeah? Did that get you going?”

You receive a small nod from him before his hands are reaching out for your tits and warming them up.

You relax into the feeling of his fingers on your chest only for a moment before you pull back again, this time adjusting yourself onto the bed face down, ass up. Might as well try a bunch of different positions for him too, right?

“Whenever you’re ready.” You sigh, already grabbing a pillow to hug through this.

You can feel the bed shift behind you, the weight of his body dipping right behind you before you feel his warm breath against your core. Only now do you realize that you already missed the way he ate you out the first time, you can barely contain yourself knowing he’s going to do it again.

His hands snake between your legs before his lips get any closer, spreading them before pulling his hand back up and spreading your pussy open with his fingers on his own this time.

“You have the prettiest pussy.” He says in a clear and calm voice, watching the way your hole pulses at the air that hits it. “And I've watched a lot of porn.”

You’d tell him to shut up, but you’re not gonna because it’s cute how forward he is with his thoughts. If anything, he’s treating you right now by doing this, so he can say whatever he fucking wants right now.

“Eat it then.” you try to urge him, and he does just that.

You do your best to contain any rising orgasm, solely because you don’t want to spend yourself before you actually let him inside of you in full. But goddamn, he’s just as eager now as he was the first time…if not more.

He thinks back to the things he did before, mimicking that and hitting all of the perfect spots without fail. Still, you hold back, pushing and pulling yourself away and toward him. He eventually holds you in place against him, licking you deeper than you’ve ever been licked before. It’s a different kind of sensation, and the way he groans into it is entirely too much for you right now.

You need more, you want more. You want all of him by now, so aroused by every touch, breath, and moan that it’s becoming unbearable to just be eaten out. The thought that he’s doing this to get himself hard is flooring, and the feeling of his fingers replacing his tongue much like before is intense.

After just that one time, he knows exactly how to make you come this way and it’s dangerously attractive to realize that. He goes straight for it too, pulling back to watch his fingers slip into you up to the knuckle.

Given, he can’t reach your clit with his mouth this time so he thinks hard about how to fix this little dilemma and you’re floored even more by the fact that he solves problems without questioning. You feel his fingers leave you and land on your clit, and right then you feel his tongue again, just as deep, licking into you and all over you.

He’s really going to not let you hold it in, he’s going to have you fucking unravelling again and it’s too good. Thankfully, when you try to lift to look behind yourself, you take note of his other hand working himself.

He’s hard again, and god knows how long he’s been doing that.

You pull your body away from him, his protesting moan doing nothing but heating your body up more when you flip over and watch him.

“You were really just going to get me off again and not try to fuck me yet?”

He looks down at himself and then back at you, smiling and running his hand through his hair.

“I like doing it, I wanted to see if I could make you–”

“You absolutely could have but I’m going to be honest,” You start, interrupting him and pulling yourself up to crawl over him. “I need more now, and if you’re ready, I’d like to live up to my promise.”

His eyes are much sharper than they were before when you say those words. This is actually it. He would have been perfectly happy just eating you out, getting head himself, or whatever. Over and over again. Any and all of it is better than being in his room alone, but you’re really–

“Promise?” He asks, knowing full well what it was.

“Lay back, get comfortable,” You instruct, scooting up the bed with him, keeping yourself planted on his legs despite the discomfort. “You still want me to ride you, right?”

He nods almost frantically, landing his hands on your tits without hesitation and groping them in a blatant show of how ready he’s managed to get himself for this.

Not that you want to rush, but you’re so fucking turned on by this point, the only thing you want is to be filled by him. His cock likely bigger than any you’ve taken before, and to be fair, you don’t even care if you’re the desperate one at this point. You’ve almost forgotten he’s a virgin.

“Wait,” He stops you when you slide over his cock, bare pussy coating his length in a languid grind. “Oh, fuck, wait- no, do that again.”

You smile at his frantic thoughts pouring from his lips, sliding against him again, and again, up until he’s leaning forward and attaching his lips to one of your nipples and suckling against it hard.

You groan as you grind, feeling the head of his now, fully hard, cock bumping against your previously stimulated clit. He groans with you, almost at the exact same time but continues to try and leave his mark on you. In love with finally getting your tits in his mouth, your pussy on his cock, and most of all, in love with the fact that you’re not laughing at him for any of it. You seem to melt into it much like he does and he can’t help but want to email the creator of that fucking app and personally thank them for this.

You rub yourself against him until it’s even more unbearable than before. By now, you’ve completely soaked his length and he’s completely soaked your chest in saliva and tiny swollen bite marks. Not that you mind the biting, he did it and you didn’t stop him.

“Are you ready?” You finally sigh out, deliberately grinding against him slowly now, with almost your entire weight behind the grinds.

He groans out a “please” before immediately gripping your hips and stopping you. Pulling his head back so hard and so quickly– he kind of forgot to unlatch from your nipple and it sends a sharp pain throughout your body, one that only makes you want to ride him hard. Right now.

“Hold on, there’s a condom in the pocket of my jeans–”

“Okay, and?” You laugh, sliding forward again and grinding your clit against him. “I’m on birth control, and I’m clean.”

He looks at you, his sharp eyes falling back into the sparkling doe eyes as his mouth falls open at the very idea that he gets to hit it fucking raw for the first time?

“Unless you’re lying, and you’re not really a virgin?”

He’s quick to silence your doubt. He’s 100% never had his cock inside of anything other than his own palm and– malfunction. He’s blank again, staring up at you and wincing at the feeling of you pleasuring yourself on top of him.

“Please?” He manages to get out, gripping your hips so tightly by now that he’s sure it’s hurting you.

You smile, humming at him when you lift from his length, standing on your knees to grab at his and position him in the right place.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” You ask, only now realizing that you’re genuinely about to take a man’s virginity, and it’s only fair that you give him one last time to decide if he wants you to take it from him. Despite how turned on you are, and regardless of how badly you want to fuck him, it’s not right to just do it without making him really think about it.

“Fuck, yes. Just do it already.”

You can’t help but smile at him when you do. Lowering yourself slowly on him and feeling the stretch of it. His face is something that you don’t think you’ll ever forget. He appears to be lost in it, eyes rolling back, his chest heaving, his teeth showing through a half-smile as he moans out at the sensation.

He can’t get over how warm it is inside of you, the constant clenching of your pussy dragging along his entire length. He can’t help it when he moans, he doesn’t care that his voice cracks, or that it sounds like a pathetic sob.

By the time you bottom out and sit like that for a moment, you almost feel like he’s the one who needs to adjust. Of course, you’re needing this moment to adjust too but god– just watching him made you that much more wet and it’s insane how into him you are right now. As if you haven’t been since you started talking to him.

“Feels good?” You ask, involuntary clenching around his size, letting out a small sigh yourself at the feeling of his leaking cock inside of you.

He hums at you and then takes in a deep breath before fully opening his eyes again and looking at you. Technically, he’s no longer a virgin now. It’s fucking happening, and you’re hot? So hot? You feel so good? You smell so good. You sound so fucking good.

Everything is overwhelmingly good, all he can do now is press his hips up and instantly moan out at the feeling.

You take that as an invitation to absolutely obliterate him, much like you knew you would. So, you do. Lifting yourself up and sliding him almost entirely out of you before sinking down again.

His hands shoot to your waist, then he lifts slightly to grab your ass from behind you, and then he flops himself back– seemingly unable to know what the fuck to do with himself at this feeling.

You opt to grab his hands, intertwining your fingers with his and holding them above his head, all so you can lay chest to chest with him, lips right at his neck. You start kissing, riding him so smoothly and doing nothing but listening to his little sounds that he tries to keep inside.

“You’re really cute, you know that?” You whisper against his ear, kissing there too before pulling back to look at his face.

That half-smile never leaves his face, and his fingers squeeze against yours so tightly that you actually start to worry that he may break them. Thankfully, he begins to relax after a few minutes. Adjusting to the overwhelming pleasure and now losing himself to the arousal rather than fighting it.

You nearly squeak when you feel him release your hands and grab your face, pulling you up to him as he kisses you mindlessly. Breathlessly, moaning into your mouth all while moving his own hips now. You can feel him jerk his hips, imagining how he fucked his hand through facetime. This is better than that.

You prop to stand up on your knees, offering him the space to fuck you as hard as he’d like, and god. It’s hard. It’s deep, and it’s so clumsy. No rhythm, no thought behind it at all, you can fucking tell he’s purely running on adrenaline as he plunges into you.

He’s actually going so hard, that your moans sound more pained than pleasurable, but that’s not the case at all. You actually can’t stop moaning, it’s just the fact that each time he slams into you, your throat lets out a broken sound.

For a moment, you think you can actually hear him purr, or maybe growl against your slack lips as he does it. Already he’s lasted longer than you thought he would, especially without a condom, and you’re so fucking impressed by it.

You slide your hand between your bodies, easily rubbing your own clit and drying out your throat even more with the consistent loud moans of how good he’s doing. After a few moments though, his hips stutter and you take that as a sign that you should take over again.

“I don’t know how the fuck you’re doing this to me,” You laugh out of pity for yourself, “I really thought I could last longer than this.”

He barely hears you through his ringing ears and rapid heartbeat, but he chuckles at the compliment. Feeling like he must be doing something right to have a woman say that to him. There’s one issue. He’s about two thrusts from coming again and he will be damned to ruin this for you.

You take over, riding him harshly and rubbing your clit even harder. He takes a moment to try and distract himself from how good your pussy feels clenching him and takes it upon himself to bite down hard against his tongue. Something to hurt enough to keep his orgasm from bubbling over, but also not something so awful that he’d lose his arousal entirely.

You continue, pushing yourself back up from him and watching the way he tries to focus on anything but what’s happening. You ride deliberately to get him off though, knowing that the second he does, you’ll let yourself go too. He doesn’t seem to be picking up the hints.

“Are you close?” You ask, out of breath and riding him so consistently that it’s becoming more and more difficult to hold your own orgasm. “Let it go, come with me–”

Instantly, you hear him whimper out a moan as he releases the bite on his tongue. Shooting himself forward and hugging you so tightly that the pressure of your fingers against your clit is entirely unbearable.

“Oh, shit. Wait– i’m–” You start, moaning against his hair as he hugs against you.

He’s so fucking relieved, already releasing into you as you say those words. All he can do is breathe through it, feeling your pussy come around him as he continues to empty himself into you.

It’s entirely too intense, his ears popping and heart threatening to send him to a hospital. Never did he think having sex was this intense.

Little does he know… it’s not. But even you, for some reason, find yourself wondering why the fuck that was so good.

By the time you pull yourself off of him, both of you wincing and trying to ignore the mixture of cum running down your legs, all you can do is look at him with curiosity.

He can barely open his eyes to look back at you, but he tries, he really does.

He’s not going home tonight. Of course he’s not. Like, how fucking rude would it be to take his virginity and send him on his way? Absolutely the fuck not.

In fact, you made him some food, wobbling on spent legs throughout the kitchen as he lays on his death bed in your room. (Not literally, both of you are just dramatic.)

All he can do is listen to the sounds of you in the other room and think hard about how he just felt. Physically, it was a lot. Surely if sex is like that all the time, he’d rather not do it as often as Seungcheol does. Honestly, his sanity would be at stake.

But like, you’re kind of amazing. Given, the two of you barely know each other past lame texts and bullying each other. Physically, you know him more than any other women and that’s a block he didn’t think would be an issue until it became one.

You made him come twice. And he thinks you did too, unless you’re lying just to make him feel better. There’s no way you didn’t feel the intensity of that though. There’s no way your wobbling legs were lying to him when you got up and told him you wanted to have a snack before bed.

There’s no way you would let him sleep over if you didn’t feel the same way he does right now.

And by the time you’re back, handing him a plate of food, he can’t help but believe that nothing will ever taste as good as you.

The thing is, that’s one of the main reasons you did this. To be praised, to have a man think you’d be the best he will ever have until he eventually meets someone else and they do better than you did. Now though, you feel weird.

This is a one night stand. A charity-fuck, as it still stands at least.

“So,” You start, taking a bite of your food still as naked as can be regardless of how stupid it must look to be eating in a come-soaked bed like this. “I guess you should change your bio in the app now.”

He looks at you, and then at his food.

“Yeah, I guess I should…”

“I’ll help you fix your age on it. Now that you know what you’re doing with a woman and all.”

It’s silent for a minute.

“Is it too forward if I say that I’d rather just delete the app and keep calling you?”

Thank fuck Soonyoung is forward and embarrassing with it. You’re not ready to give up the single life but on the other hand, after that, you’re not exactly ready to share him with other women just yet. If he wants to attach himself for a while, you’re going to let him. Purely because, like, look at him. Everything is endearing, and when he’s not being adorable he’s just being fucking hot.

You nod with a smile, wondering if he expects you to delete the app too. Because you’re not so sure about that, but also you think you probably would if he asks with those stupid doe eyes.

Strangely enough, he doesn’t even ask. He just starts eating the food with a content look on his face. Sweat having dried up but left his hair a mess, his skin is glowing– you think…oh no. Why are you looking at him like this?

“Hey, I should probably call Vernon and tell him not to come home until late tomorrow or something.”

Soonyoung nods, lifting his eyes to you and watching you take your phone out.

“I should call my friend too, he told me to let him know when I get my cherry popped.”

You snort at him with a laugh right as Vernon answers the phone, and honestly, you’d rather listen to Soonyoung’s friend than Vernon whining about having to spend even more time with his overbearing parents.

“Hey Vernon, don’t come home 'til I call you tomorrow, bye.” You say quickly before hanging up.

Instantly you’re setting your plate on your table and launching yourself at Soonyoung and his phone.

“Put him on speaker.”

#soonyoung smut #hoshi smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #hoshi x reader #svt fic #hoshi fic #soonyoung fic #kwon soonyoung smut

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takeme-totheworld · 2 months

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I am neither Team "Aziraphale Is The Asshole" nor am I Team "Aziraphale Defense Squad."

I'm the secret third option: Team "Aziraphale is a flawed complicated messy traumatized character who has frequently fucked things up and made morally questionable choices and I'm rooting for him anyway because I don't think any of those things make him unforgivable, the bad guy, or undeserving of a happy ending. But he still did those things and I'm not interested in explaining them away as something else, actually, because a flawed protagonist who has fucked things up but still gets there in the end and is loved and forgiven is really important to me, actually."

But that's not quippy enough, I guess. Maybe I'll start a one-person effort to popularize a tag like "flawed protagonist aziraphale" or "let aziraphale have flaws" or something else in that vein.

I don't know, the more polarized and shouty this site gets about Aziraphale the more depressing it is and the less I want to post about GO (other than to reblog all the delightful fanart I get to see on here, y'all are so talented sdfklghskjfg). I came here because I thought this at least had a slim chance of being the nuanced conversations site but it's kind of becoming a drag.

#good omens #good omens meta #the final fifteen #aziraphale #what should the quippy tag be for team third option?

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whyhellosims · 7 months

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Happy Simblreen, friends! First gift of the season is the Carnaval Kit overalls converted for kids!

Info and download links under the cut!

What you get: Twenty total swatches, including all original colors and a few new/grungy ones for fun, plus the usual white swatch for the recolor adventurous. What you don't get? NECKLACES. Sorry, kids, I just could not get them to display correctly, so no necklaces with this. It's a full body outfit, unisex, disallowed for random. You can find it enabled for athletic, hot weather, every day, and party under the jumpsuits and overalls sort.

Some in-game shots (sorry, it was cloudy AF):

TOU: No pay sites ever. This item is free always, no conditions, no a*fly links. If you use it and you want to credit me, I’d love to see your sims, so just tag me. This is also part of my #WHS-LittleGrunge collection, so feel free to check out the other pieces!

If you like my work, please consider a reblog to spread the word? Got requests? Need specific recolors? Find a problem? Please feel free to send me an ask or a DM! I promise I don’t bite and I’m still learning, so I’m happy to help!

Thank you to @sssvitlanz, @mmfinds, @alwaysfreecc, @mmoutfitters, @public-ccfinds, @simblreenofficial

Moar WHS CC

Here we goes! ➡ SFS Link / Google Drive

Thank you so much for making simblr a fun and delightful community! Happy Simblreen, my friend, and stay spooky!

#ts4cc #sims4cc #ts4 cc #sims 4 cc #maxis match cc #WHS #whs cc #whs-little grunge #child

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hotvintagepoll · 1 month

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Propaganda

Anne Baxter (The Ten Commandments, All About Eve)—her soft, gentle voice in "all about eve", those gentle eyes with something odd behind them, the way she flips from Sweet Innocent to Viper on a dime......there was something Built Different about anne baxter, man, and it makes her so good for playing people who are Built Wrong. also one of my favorite batmen villains (her joint episode w vincent price is a delight) and of course I'm obsessed with her columbo episode where she bosses around edith head and does fabulous movie star things for no good reason. and i would be REMISS if i didn't mention her slink—oh the slink—in the ten commandments...................pardon me i must go think of sinning again

Waheeda Rehman (Chaudhvin Ka Chand, Pyaasa, Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam)—90+ films and counting, an absolute legend of Hindi cinema. When I see her in Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam it makes me want to chew glass

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Anne Baxter:

The prettiest murderer in that film. Just so beautifully evil as Nefertari.

Anne Baxter was part of my Bisexual Awakening. My family has a tradition that every Palm Sunday we watch The ten commandments on TV together... And starting from a very young age, I essentially developed a crushes on Anne Baxter's Nefertiri & Yul Brynner's Ramses. Dude, the woman was HOT! They both were! My crush definitely wasn't helped by the fact that Anne Baxter's costumes were a bit on the sheer side. She had a way of capturing you with her eyes, and I never understood why Charlton heston's Moses didn't just have a threesome with Nefertiri and Ramses. LOL

Her Nefertiri in The Ten Commandments was FORMATIVE TO ME. If not the hottest old movie lady, then she definitely played the hottest old movie character. if that makes sense.

Look. Listen. I only *just* discovered her on a post from the Have You Seen This Romcom poll blog. Saw she had the same last name as me and went OOH hi hello. Went to her IMdB and saw she was born in Indiana like moi. I am now even more intrigued. Been eagerly telling my partner this, and he was like "maybe you guys are distantly related?" And after 2 hrs of going down the tumblr tag + her imdb photos, I'm In Deep(tm) and I can't stop looking at her like 😍 When I go to my grandma's house, bet your ass I'm gonna check my grandpa's genealogy and see if we're somehow related. Sorry that's not really propaganda I just got real excited, esp when I saw that the submission deadline was extended (bless your soul). Narrowing down the movies where she's hottest in was Hell tyvm. I've only just discovered her, she looks gorgeous to me in every movie still I see of her gdi lol.

Waheeda Rehman propaganda:

Linked gif

Linked gif 2

#waheeda rehman #anne baxter #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 3

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irisintheafterglow · 10 months

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Timeless (pro!bakugo x you)

summary: in another life, he still would have turned your head.

word count: 0.7k

cw/tags: swearing, just straight fluff, gn reader

note: i think my favorite line of dialogue i've written so far is now "kicking ass, looking hot." hope you enjoy this lil drabble!

likes/reblogs/feedback is always appreciated <3

In your excitement, you pull out your phone and dial his number. He answers after two rings and you smile softly. You didn’t usually call him when he was on patrol unless you missed him, so hopefully he didn’t give you any shit about that.

“Hi darling, whatcha doing?” You fiddle with the ring hanging around your neck, a habit you’d only picked up after you two started dating.

“The usual– kicking ass, looking hot.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“You’re the one who called me, babe, so you must be missing me. What’s up?”

“Just wanted to tell you about these funny little photos I found in an antique shop by the deli. I snagged that good French bread you like, by the way.” Your fingers continue to card through the pictures in the cardboard box, one shoulder pressing the phone up to your ear.

He hums contentedly on the other side of the phone, completely ignoring the first part of what you said. “You’re the greatest part of my life.”

“I better be. But, anyway, these photos, Kats.” You could practically see him rolling his eyes in boredom, but continue trying to explain them anyways. “They’re cute; it’s like little black and white photos of lovers from the 50s, and in one of them they’re in front of their first house in the 60s.”

“Why are you telling me about random extras from ancient times?”

You scoff at his warped sense of time. “First off, this was only a few decades ago. Second…I actually don’t really know.” He snorts from the other side of the phone, and you fight to keep your voice to a whisper as you backtrack, trying to verbalize the vague train of thought in your mind. “I’m serious, Kats. I don’t know what it is about these photos. They just remind me of us.” You pick up one of a young couple standing in front of a vintage car at the beach. The boy has a smug look on his face, and his girlfriend is shaking her head exasperatedly. He must have said something stupidly endearing, just like the boy on the phone with you.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I just saw them and I like to think that, even if we were living in a different time, we’d still find our way to each other, somehow.” Another one caught your eye in the box, a family picture at a rest stop in the mountains. The parents tenderly hold a baby each in their arms, beaming at the camera and surrounded by towering trees. The image made your heart ache a little bit, so second-handedly happy for them that it was making you sad. You never would tell him, but you were really missing your boyfriend.

“You bet your sexy ass I’d find you in another lifetime.” You roll your eyes. His crass language, however intelligent he was, really overpowered his intellect sometimes.

“I don’t think you’d be using that kind of language if we were in like, the 1400s, Kats.” You find a funny one of a little boy triumphantly holding an ice cream cone in a bathtub and it reminds you of baby photos your boyfriend’s mom had showed you when you met her for the first time.

“Then I’d kick the shit out of all the other suitors or whatever to win your delightful posterior.”

“Ew,” you laugh, covering your burning face with a hand. “Please don’t say that ever again.”

“I know you’re blushing. Bet you look cute.”

“Mhmm, blushing ‘cause of how fucking embarrassing you are sometimes,” you reply fondly, waving farewell to the older woman behind the antique counter.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I love you too. You free for lunch or are you headed back to the agency?”

Your heart stutters. He always seemed to know when you were thinking about him, or missing his company. “I’m free right now, but aren’t you on patrol–”

“Aight, see you in a sec.”

“Wait, Kats–” You look at your phone in disbelief. He’d hung up on you. Shaking your head, you have a seat on a bench and wait for the telltale noise of explosive rumbling to reach you.

He was insufferable, yes, but you wouldn’t trade him for anybody else, this century or otherwise.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha x y/n #bnha x you #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n

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booksandabeer · 11 months

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Stucky, Fandom Longevity, and "Primacy Bias"

There’s this post that's been floating around the past few days about how the Stucky fandom in its heyday produced fic and art masterpieces like they were all collectively possessed by an unprecedented spirit of creative insanity. It’s a good, fun post and I agree with the person who wrote it. (not rb'ing because I didn't want to hijack their post with something that's only tangentially related).

It was indeed a magical time and the creative output in both quantity and quality in the two-year period following the release of CA:TWS is—with perhaps a few exceptions—unmatched by anything that I’ve seen before and since. However, going through the notes on that post, I noticed something that left me a little irritated and quite frankly sad since it is in congruence with, and to a certain extent the confirmation of something that I’ve been thinking about a lot lately.

For one thing, there are so many people in the notes expressing sentiments along the lines of “it was such a wonderful time; I wish I could go back; I miss these fics; I want to read these fics again,” etc., etc., you get it. And it feels a little silly pointing this out, but…you can just do that? Almost all of these fics are still right there, waiting for you to be (re)read. Yes, a lot of people left the fandom after The Great Devastation of 2019, but their stories didn’t just disappear. It's not like there is now a big, black hole where the Steve/Bucky tag used to be on AO3. So, if you miss these fics and you want to revisit them—just do it. Chances are the authors will be delighted that people are still finding and enjoying their stories all these years later. And—since apparently this needs saying, too, judging from the notes on that post: A lot of people seem to be very concerned with losing ‘coolness points’ for openly admitting that they still miss the ship and often feel tempted to dip their toes back into the Stucky pool. I don’t know how to tell you this, but if someone tries to shame you for simply enjoying or missing something, they are an asshole. Not to mention that all this is happening on tumble.com—'coolness' doesn't exactly live here. And that is a good thing, to be clear. Fandom is not about being cool. It’s about being as enthusiastic, as silly, as absolutely fucking unhinged about the things you love as you want to be. So, stop caring what other people think and enjoy yourself.

The other thing is that there seems to be a pretty widespread misconception that the Stucky fandom hasn’t produced any good fanworks after 2016.

First, that is patently and demonstrably untrue. There is so much incredibly good fanfiction and fanart still out there. Not as much as back in the day, sure, but it still exists. And more is being posted every day! Even some of the OG Big Names are still around. One of the most beloved Stucky series that started all the way back in 2014 was updated as recently as December of last year. The artist, who I believe the op is referring to as creating ‘baroque’ paintings, posted their latest Stucky art not even two months ago.

Second, I find this “primacy bias” more than just a little insulting to the many hardworking and incredibly talented people who are still putting their blood, sweat, and tears into creating for this community. And it’s one thing if people who have long left the fandom believe or say something like this, but it’s frankly irritating when I see people who are still very much active—and therefore definitely should know better—feed into that same false myth. Yes, it sucks that the Stucky ship isn’t as big as it used to be, but that doesn't mean there isn't any 'fresh talent' to be found anymore. I’m also not saying we shouldn’t still celebrate and recommend older works—I do it all the time! And it sure as hell doesn't mean everyone has to reblog absolutely everything all the time, either. Your blog, your rules.

But maybe we should put a little more focus on the good things, on the creators and the community we have now, especially if we want that community to still exist in another ten years. I mean, imagine you’re a person who’s just gotten into the fandom (because yes, there are indeed still new people discovering Stucky all the time) and one of the first things you’re being told is “eh, nice that you're here, but you’re about 7 years late; the big party is already over.” Does that seem like a fun space to hang out in to you?

So. Let’s all—and I do not exclude myself from this because God knows, I love to complain—spend a little less time mourning the ‘good old days’ that are never coming back anyway, and instead focus our attention on enjoying and appreciating both the incredible treasure chest of an archive we have AND the wealth of high-quality art and fic that is still being created by this wonderful community every single day. With this in mind:

🥳🎊Happy Stucky Week 2023!!! 🎊🥳

*I want to make it very clear that this is a general thing that’s been on my mind lately and that I’m trying to work through here—probably not very coherently. I'm not trying to tell anybody 'how to do fandom' and I’m most definitely not vagueposting about any particular incident, person, or group in this fandom. This isn’t a callout post. It’s an I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about this and I don’t know what else do with them post.

#stucky #stucky fanfic #fandom culture #i once again have no idea what to tag this #fanfiction forever #fanart forever

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candycandy00 · 5 months

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Serve Me, Save Me - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic Part 2

After Ryomen Sukuna inadvertently saves you while killing his enemies, you decide to devote yourself to him as a servant. But the trauma from the attack triggers panic when you find yourself in his bed.

Part 1 | Part 2

Smut. 18+. Oral sex. Masturbation. Slow burn. Softer Sukuna than I’ve written before but he’s still a monster. True form Sukuna. Rape and its aftermath feature prominently as a plot device but rape does NOT occur between Sukuna and Reader. Features PTSD, panic attacks, etc.

If you’d like to be tagged in future parts (I have no idea how many there will be), comment to let me know! You must have your age in your bio or intro post or just tell me you’re an adult in the comment! Likes are appreciated but comments and reblogs (especially with feedback in the tags) make me feel all warm and squishy! Seriously any feedback at all is so wonderful! Divider by @benkeibear!

Several days later, when Sukuna went into his bath, he found the same servant preparing the water and laying out fresh robes for him. The heat and the steam in the room had made her skin look dewy, her hair wet. The thin work robe she wore clung to her shape as she moved about the room.

When she noticed his presence, she bowed, touching her forehead to the floor. “Your bath is ready, my lord.”

He looked down at her as he untied the silk belt around his robe, but before removing the garment, he paused. “You’re the servant who refuses me,” he said. It was not a condemnation, but a statement of fact. If he insisted, she would let him do whatever he wanted. She was too obedient not to. But he didn’t have the patience to deal with whatever trauma that would cause.

She was otherwise a good servant, keeping the shrine spotlessly clean. Even Uraume had praised her, seeming delighted while reporting that she had organized their spices in a neat and efficient manner and always took care with the plates and utensils while washing them.

“Go and fetch another servant to attend me,” he said.

She slowly raised her head. “I can attend you, my lord, if you’ll allow it.”

“I don’t feel like hearing your screeching tonight. Will you go into hysterics again if you see my cocks?”

Her face reddened slightly. “I don’t mind seeing them, my lord.”

He sighed. “Alright then,” he told her, shrugging off his robe. She hurried to retrieve it from the floor, folding it in a quick and deft motion before placing it in a basket by the door. She didn’t stare at his naked form this time, but she certainly wasn’t avoiding it. Her eyes darted all along his body as he sat down on a stone stool and used the readied cloths and soaps to wash himself.

She didn’t hesitate to come closer, taking a soapy cloth in her hands and using it to scrub his back. He wondered where she’d learned how to wash a man’s back so well, being unmarried. She was using the perfect amount of pressure, moving at the exact speed that felt the most pleasing.

“You have practice at this,” he remarked.

“My family owned a bathhouse, my lord. I attended to the customers often,” she said.

She used past tense. Meaning her family had probably been slaughtered in the attack. Ah well, at least they’d left her with a useful skill. He could feel his muscles relaxing under her ministrations, any tension completely gone. She was very good at this, even knowing the right time to stop and move on to another task without being told.

She soaped up her hands and then used them to lather his hair. He found himself leaning back slightly, into her touch. He normally washed his own hair, but like with his back, she used skillful motions to make the experience as pleasurable as possible. When finished, she lifted a bucket of warm water as she said, “I’m rinsing now, Lord Sukuna.” Without waiting for his response, and with the practiced ease of someone who had done this countless times, she held the bucket over his head and tipped it forward, spilling the water over his form and washing away the soap.

He made a mental note to send for her every time he bathed in this village as she stepped around in front of him and offered a warm cloth to wipe his face. She watched him, her eyes flicking down between his thighs. She didn’t look upset or frightened. In fact, she appeared to like looking at his body.

She lingered in front of him, and when his eyes met hers, her skin looked slightly flushed. “May I… touch you, my lord?”

It was a surprising request, coming from her, but he wasn’t in the mood to tease her. “Do as you wish,” he said.

She gave a quick bow of thanks, and then got down on her knees, smoothing the fabric of her robe as she scooted in between his spread open legs. She lifted one hand to his upper cock and gripped it softly, her eyes fixed on the organ as it twitched and began to harden under her touch. She stroked it lightly, gently moving her hand up and down the length. His lower cock hardened almost immediately after, eager to be touched as well. She used her other hand to stroke it, using the same rhythm.

Her feathery touch felt nice, but it was a bit too soft for his taste. “Harder,” he told her, and she looked up at his face. With a hint of a blush on her cheeks, she nodded and took a firmer grip with both hands, moving them up and down at a faster pace. Eventually she paused and looked at his cocks for a moment before leaning forward and licking the upper one, coating it in her saliva. She then went back to stroking the now slick shaft with her hand while she took the lower cock into her mouth.

The servant’s warm, wet tongue circled the throbbing organ in her mouth, and with her thumb she mimicked the motion on the upper one. Sukuna watched her work, enjoying the way her pretty eyes darted up to his face occasionally, the way her full lips looked wrapped around him. He couldn’t remember the last time a single woman had pleasured both cocks so well at the same time.

Sukuna leaned his head back, closing his eyes and listening to the wet, slick sounds she was making, feeling her velvety mouth enveloping him, her silky hand stroking him. The lower cock came first, into her hot mouth, and she took in every drop, her throat working to swallow it all. Then, in the next instant, she quickly pressed her tongue to the upper one as it began to shoot out his seed, catching all but a few spurts that landed on her face.

Looking down at her, he thought she was exceptionally beautiful with his cum dripping from her chin. She slowly rose to her feet and gave a small bow, then motioned toward the waiting bath. “The water is at optimal temperature now, my lord, if you’d like to enjoy a soak.”

He stood and crossed over to the huge stone basin full of water. Several people could fit inside it at once, but unless someone snuck and used it while he was away, Sukuna was the only person who had ever been in it. He stepped over into the water and lowered himself into it. The water reached his stomach, and was perfectly warmed, with some sort of fragrance drifting into the air.

As he slid down a bit further into the water and relaxed, he looked at the servant. Across the room, she was wiping her face with a cloth. Her robe was so damp from the moisture in the room that it stuck to her body all over, hugging every curve. After watching her for a moment, he said, “Come join me in the water.”

She lifted her face and looked at him. Several different emotions seemed to flicker in her eyes. Panic, flattery, excitement. But she didn’t move from her spot.

He sighed. “I won’t touch you.”

Her face seemed to relax. “Thank you, lord Sukuna,” she said with a smile.

*******************

You opened your thin work robe and slipped it off your shoulders, folding it neatly and dropping it into the basket of used clothing by the door. Fully nude, you walked over to the bath and gingerly climbed into the hot, steaming water. It felt wonderful as you sank down, the water level hitting at just below your breasts. You could slide down further, but you had the feeling lord Sukuna wanted to look at them, so you remained sitting up straight, a few feet away from him.

“Did the men who attacked you not use your mouth?” he asked suddenly.

The question shocked you with its abrasiveness. “They did, my lord,” you replied, looking down at the water.

“And it didn’t bother you to suck my cocks?”

You could feel your face growing hotter. “It didn’t.”

“Hmm,” you heard his voice say. “Then what happened the other night in my bed?”

You glanced up at him. “I think it was being pinned down that triggered the memories of the attack, my lord.”

“I see,” he said, shifting slightly in the water to get more comfortable. “Still, it’s only sex. I don’t understand what’s so frightening about it.”

You’d heard sentiments like that before from other men. “It’s not just sex,” you told him, “it’s a violation. It’s having someone use your body for their pleasure, against your wishes. And in this village, it robs you of your future. I’m a used, broken woman now.”

His eyes had shifted to you again, and you worried that you’d said too much. “What a stupid custom,” he said, surprising you. “Being a virgin does absolutely nothing to increase a woman’s value. If anything, I find them less desirable.”

You blinked, gazing at him with wide eyes. “Really?”

“Of course. What does a virgin know of pleasing a man?”

He probably wasn’t saying it to make you feel better, but you were comforted nonetheless. If the god of your village thought you were still desirable, then maybe you weren’t damaged after all.

“Thank you for saying so, Lord Sukuna,” you said, dipping your head slightly in a subtle bow.

He stared at you for a moment, then spoke again. “There’s still one among the attackers of the village I’ve left alive. He’s been useful for extracting information. It would probably be easy to find the families of the men who raped you. I could have them executed or-“

“No, please!” you said, the water around you sloshing as you moved closer to him. When he looked at you curiously, you went on. “I’m glad those men are dead. I’m glad you killed them. But their families did nothing wrong, so I’d like to leave things as they are.”

He shrugged. “If you say so.”

The two of you sat quietly in the water for a while. He laid his head back, and after a few minutes you wondered if he’d fallen asleep. You watched his broad chest rise and fall with his breaths, the water droplets sliding down his neck. He really was glorious. You found yourself rubbing your thighs together under the water. Since the attack, the only times you’d felt aroused were when you with lord Sukuna.

Silently, careful to avoid disturbing his rest, you slipped your hand down between your legs, then gently rubbed your slick, heated flesh. You’d pleasured yourself occasionally before the attack, but never after. You just didn’t have the urge. Until now, sitting so close to lord Sukuna in the steamy water.

You pressed one finger inside, leaning your head back and closing your eyes, your breaths hitching in your throat.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Your eyes snapped open when you heard Sukuna’s silky voice. You looked over to see him wearing a grin. You hastily straightened up in the water. “I’m sorry, my lord, I was just-“

“Don’t stop because of me,” he told you, a look of delight in his red eyes. “Continue if you wish.”

“You’re not offended?” you asked.

He laughed. “Why would I be?”

“Then, I’ll continue, my lord.”

Under his crimson gaze, you began touching yourself again, sliding one finger back in, your thumb stroking your clit. Your back arched in the water as you moaned softly. You hadn’t felt this sort of pleasure in so long, and now it was overwhelming. Was it because lord Sukuna was so close, his incredible body almost touching yours?

You glanced up and met his hungry eyes as you came, your body quivering. You shivered in the water as you came down from the high of your orgasm. The way he was looking at you… it was like he wanted to devour you whole. Something about that thrilled you.

Later, after you both left the water and dressed in fresh clothes, lord Sukuna turned to you. “From now on, you’ll be my bathing attendant.”

You bowed your head. “It is an honor to serve you, my lord.”

After he left the room and you began cleaning up, you smiled to yourself. You finally felt like you had a purpose again. And maybe, you thought, you might be called to his bed again some time, and things would be different. Maybe you were beginning to heal.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #x reader #tw: rape

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jeonghantis · 1 year

Note

https://twitter.com/dindinowo/status/1657312174568767488?s=46&t=gMNFXRsnYXE0OiELxeVYXw

i know he is probably just sleepy but….. dacryphilia go brrrrrr

✧ — [11:33 PM] (k.mg)

PAIRING ⇝ kim mingyu x reader.

TAGS ⇝ established relationship, smut.

WARNINGS ⇝ language, gn!reader, small caps are intentional, explicit sexual content (MINORS, DNI!).

EXPLICIT WARNINGS ⇝ sub!mingyu, dom!reader, top!mingyu, bottom!reader, praise (mingyu is called pretty and if u dont fuck w that click out), dacryphilia, teasing, tear licking (does this need a warning), handjob, orgasm denial, edging, penetration, unprotected sex. lmk if i missed anything!

WORD COUNT ⇝ 842 words.

note: congratulations, anon. you made me so feral that you're getting a short, probably poorly written drabble. 😁 because holy shit……… tell me why my stomach flipped when he started wiping his tears…. anyway i’ll tell you 😋 i hope you enjoy hehehehehhehe. this was written completely on a whim so it is not proofread one bit and it's a bit less detailed than my usual writings and different. it is just me pouring my brainrot out. i am so SORRY.

reblogs & comments are very much appreciated.

hard hours are open.

you’ve been stroking his cock for god knows how long, but every time he feels like he’s close to cumming, on the brink of toppling over into a euphoric high, you wrench away your hands away from him. he’s mewling and just so pathetic as his hips stutter up into the air as if to chase after that stolen bliss to no avail.

“you’re adorable, baby,” you lilt sweetly, leaning down to press a feathery kiss atop his leaking tip as a reward—or was it to further taunt him? “can i see it again? can you handle one more?”

no, absolutely not, he wants to say, but defiance had long quelled away from him since the third (fourth?) time you’ve denied his release.

“i-i don’t know,” mingyu exhales shakily, glistening eyes wavering to meet your gaze. “m-maybe?”

“it’s a yes or no question, darling,” you smile and squeeze around the base of him which earns a delightful throb from him.

mingyu worries on his bottom lip. “just one more?”

“just one more,” you reassure.

his eyes shut. “then yes, i can.”

a grin. “you’re so good for me, gyu.”

and so, mingyu is enduring another round of your cruel ministrations with his hands remaining stubbornly at his sides as you told him to, clenched so tightly into fists that his nails imbed red crescents into his palm. pleasure was a fiery flame from where it sparked once again in his abdomen, licking its way up his veins and swallowing everything in its path. it fogged his brain, compelling him to focus on nothing else but its passionate blaze. mingyu was almost lost in it, the remaining fraction of his sanity almost completely consumed. then his moans grow louder in volume and frequency, his thighs flexing -

and you’re pulling your hands away from him once again, darkened and eager eyes watching his every move.

something in mingyu breaks then and it was not the sweet release he had been hoping for. tears flow from his eyes, staining his cheeks in a wet sheen. his sobs comes with tiny hiccups, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths, and yet he’s still babbling his pleas and mantras of your name through it all. he’s gone. he’s so impossibly gone in his own desires and need, and all you could do was just stare. you stare and take it in with widening eyes and a pounding heart.

“oh my god,” you whisper under your breath.

you’re torn. your first instinct is to panic, to coddle your lover and wipe his tears away and reassure him of everything good in the world. but beneath, the underlying and somehow very overwhelming part of you wants to laugh. oh, it’s sick. you’re absolutely sick to be deriving pleasure from this. but god help you, there was just something so gratifying about seeing a hulk of a man trembling and crying under you because of you.

“you did so well, gyu,” you croon, finally lifting yourself from your position to finally climb over his sprawled figure. “god, you look so pretty right now.”

mingyu lifts a hand to start dabbing at the tears that continue to cascade down his face, then up to his eyes where they blur his vision. “was i not pretty before now?” he murmurs weakly.

you laugh. “i see you’re fine enough to be joking around.”

“i’m so very far from fine,” he sulks with pouted lips, his hands coming to rest on your waist. “i need to cum inside you to be fine.”

“of course,” you snicker and seat yourself down on him, your throbbing arousal resting neatly on top of his own. the softest moan slips from your lips, while the loudest slips from his, his grip on your waist tightening just the slightest bit.

“please,” mingyu sobs out, looking at you with his pupils blown out wide from pure, primal lust. “please, baby, i don’t think i can handle any more. just please fuck me.”

you gave a fake hum of consideration just as your hips roll deep, dragging your crotch over his with one lazy, delicious drag that draws out the most pitiful whimper from mingyu.

“well, since you asked so nicely,” you say, wearing the sweetest smile on your face.

“thank you,” he breathes out when he feels your hand wrap around his girth again.

“thank you,” he says again when you press his blunt tip to your fluttering hole.

“thank you,” he mewls out when you finally sink down on him, swallowing every inch of him in your luscious heat.

you reach forward, thumbing away at the new set of tears that he had not known were running down his cheek. you bring your finger to your mouth, lapping at the salty drops you gathered, and your lips only pull wider into a grin.

mingyu let out another sob.

“for the record,” you start, cradling his face gingerly in your hands. “you’ve always been pretty. i just find you a just little bit prettier when you’re crying for me.”

*cut to mingyu cumming in one stroke* hehehhe

#seventeen smut #svt smut #mingyu smut #mingyu fanfic #svt fanfic #kim mingyu smut #seventeen fanfic #timestamps #i may have.. gone too far #anon you awoke something in me #thank you #I AM DYINNNGGGGGG

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scoonsalicious · 12 days

Text

2.1 Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntire, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, pick-mes, internalized misogyny.

Word Count: 2.7k

Previously On...: You asked Bucky to dance.

A/N: Guys, I know it's moving fast, but next part is smut <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

As soon as the opening bars of the saxophone began, Bucky found himself feeling at ease. It wasn’t exactly like the big band tunes he used to cut it up to back in the day, but the beat was similar, and the horns were familiar. He was delighted to find the rhythm of the song was perfect for the Lindy Hop, and in no time, he was moving Major along the floor like he would have if he’d met her in 1943.

And the look on her face as he spun her, twisted her in his arms? It was fucking priceless. Major’s smile was huge, her laugh infectious, and in no time at all, Bucky found himself laughing, too. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun with a dame.

He was surprised to find himself thinking of Major in those terms, as a dame. Yeah, he’d dated since he’d woken up from cryo for the last time, even had a couple of relationships that never seemed to go anywhere, but those had all been with girls, occasionally women. Not a single one of them had made him feel the same electric rush he’d felt in his youth; not the way he’d felt dancing with Major tonight, and that made her a dame. He liked it. He liked it a lot.

The song was over far too soon for Bucky’s liking, and even though the next one was one he didn’t know how to move to, he found he didn’t want to let go of her, didn’t want to move off the floor.

“That was great,” he said, slightly panting from the dancing and laughing. “What was that?”

“Bleachers,” Major said. “Modern Girl. They’re one of my favorite bands. I’m so glad you liked it.”

“I loved it,” Bucky smiled. “I haven’t danced like that in nearly a century. It felt fucking amazing; thank you.”

Major ducked her face behind her hair, bashful at his thanks, and Bucky thought it was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. “Are all their songs like that?” he asked.

“No,” she admitted, “but they’re still fantastic.”

“I’ll give them a listen, then,” he said, “if you like them so much.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she said, blushing. God. How Bucky wanted to bite the apples of her cheeks!

“I want to,” he said, earnestly. Without a thought, he found himself reaching up to tuck a fallen lock of hair behind her ear. She was so beautiful; he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to even be talking to her, let alone having gotten to share a dance.

“What?” Major asked, sounding self conscious, and Bucky realized he’d been staring at her for a little longer than was probably considered politely normal.

“I was just thinking about how beautiful you are,” he told her honestly, and was rewarded when she ducked her face down again. He tucked his hand under her chin and tilted her head back up so she was looking at him. “What?” he asked with a soft smile. “Is that so hard to believe?”

Major chuckled softly. “No,” she said. “I guess… I’m just not used to getting compliments.”

“Well, that’s a damned shame,” Bucky tsked. “You should be getting them multiple times a day.”

She licked her lips. She looked so fucking kissable, he thought. “I was in a relationship for a long time,” Major told him. “Got a lot more insults than compliments, unfortunately, toward the end. Guess I just got accustomed to them.”

Bucky frowned, having a hard time believing any straight man with eyes and blood in his cock would ever consider insulting her. “Your ex-boyfriend sounds like a dumbass piece of shit,” he offered.

Major shrugged. “Ex-husband, actually.”

That took Bucky aback. “Oh,” he said. “Shit. I’m sorry–”

“No, it’s okay,” she rushed to reassure him. “I married young and dumb. Military housing is a big perk, you know.” Bucky nodded. “It was… nice for a few years, but between the stress of deployments, and the fact I was getting promoted more often than he was… we weren’t happy for a while.”

“How long since you split?” he asked. He was nervous– based on what he’d experienced of Major so far, he saw her as someone he could really end up liking, and he didn’t want to come trampling in if she wasn’t emotionally ready. The idea of just being a rebound to her didn’t sit well with him. At all.

“Oh, like, five years ago,” Major said, waving her hand as if dismissing her entire marriage. “He cheated on me during his last deployment. Cliche, I know, but I ended up being grateful for it. It was the kick in the ass I needed to finally get out of a dead relationship. In fact, I fueled all the anger I felt at him into building the first WarZone. So, in a weird, roundabout way, I have him to thank for where I am today. Just think; if he had been able to keep his dick in his pants, we might not be standing here right now.”

Bucky laughed at that, and he suddenly found himself wanting to send her ex a thank you card. “Do you still see him?” he asked.

“Not if I can help it,” Major told him, an upward tic to her lips. “We still have some mutual friends, and I’m fond of his mother, so we run into each other socially, here and there, a couple of times a year. I don’t look forward to seeing him or anything like that, but I stopped caring enough to let it really bother me a long time ago.”

“That seems like a pretty healthy outlook to have,” Bucky offered.

“It took a lot of work to get to this point,” she laughed. “I mean, why’d you think I had to start a rage room, of all things, to help me deal?”

Bucky laughed, and as he did so, he realized he was still holding both of her hands in his; neither of them had made a move to pull away from one another since the dance ended. “Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, looking up from where the two of them were joined.

“Yeah,” she said, offering him the sweetest smile he’d ever seen. “I’d like that.”

They both returned to the booth a few minutes later, Bucky with a beer and Major with another frozen margarita. In their absence, Peter, Thor, and Wanda had left, leaving just Bucky and Major, Nat, Steve, Sam, and Lily.

“They wanted me to tell you goodbye, and that they loved meeting you,” Nat told Major as she and Bucky both sat back down. “They wish they could have stayed, but Thor and Wanda have an early mission tomorrow, and Peter’s got a school project. You and Barnes seemed to be having a deep discussion, so they didn’t want to interrupt.”

“I’m sorry to have missed them,” Major said, “but hopefully I’ll see them again?” She looked to Nat with a question on her face.

“Of course you will,” Bucky said before Nat could reply. “You think I’m– er, we’re gonna let you get away from us that easily?”

“Oh, Bucky,” Lily said, reaching for his arm. “Did you get me a drink from the bar, love?”

Bucky frowned. It was their usual routine to get the other a refill each time one of them went to the bar, but he’d been so smitten by Major’s presence, he’d entirely forgotten. “No, Lil, I’m sorry,” he said, knowing she’d rightfully start pouting.

“You can share mine with me, if you’d like,” Major offered, holding out her margarita. “I’ve probably already had enough alcohol for one night.”

“Ew, gross,” Lily said, sneering at the proffered drink. “I don’t touch that fruity shit. They’re just so… girly.” She spat out the word like it was an insult. “I mean, if you can’t take beer or straight up liquor, what’s the point of even drinking?” She leaned over and picked up Bucky’s beer. “I’ll just share with Jamie. You don’t mind, right, love?” Smiling, she took a long swig before placing the bottle down in front of him.

“Well, since my drink’s been commandeered,�� Bucky said, looking to Major with big, soulful puppy dog eyes, “will you share yours with me?”

“Of course,” she said, handing him her glass. Bucky took a sip.

“Oh, shit,” he moaned, then leaned down to take a larger swig; it was tastier than he’d ever imagined, not to mention her lips had been on the glass, just where his were now. “Lil, you’re missing out! This fruity shit is delicious! Thanks, doll!”

“I’m just curious,” Major started, seemingly apprehensive, as though she were wondering if she should say what she was actually thinking, “why you say ‘girly’ like it’s a bad thing. What’s wrong with being a girl?”

Nat raised an eyebrow in surprise, and Bucky was sure he heard Sam cough “oh shit” into his fist.

Lily rolled her eyes. “Nothing’s wrong with being a girl, obviously,” she said. “But, like, you have to admit, all the stuff that’s catered to women is just so… stupid, childish. No self-respecting, serious person is into all that kind of stuff. It’s weak.” She shook her head. “No, if it comes down between being a girl and being a badass, I’m going to choose badass every day of the week.”

“Uh oh,” Major said, leaning back and giving Lily a scrutinizing look. “Sounds to me like the misogyny is coming from inside the house.”

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Lily asked, planting both hands on the table. “Lil, calm down,” Bucky said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure Major didn’t mean anything insulting by it.”

“I said,” Major reiterated slowly, “that the misogyny is coming from inside the house. You’re acting as though anything that’s considered inherently feminine is less than anything masculine. And when you look to build yourself up by bringing other women down by rejecting femininity, that’s internalized misogyny.”

“How dare you?” Lily seethed. “You don’t fucking know a thing about me! Bucky, tell her I’m not like that!”

“If I made an error in judgment, I apologize,” Major said, before Bucky could come to Lily’s defense. Though, if he really thought about it, Major had a point– Lily always did seem to irrationally hate anything she deemed girly. “I’m simply responding to the implications of your own words.” Major took a sip of her margarita and smacked her lips. “I mean, I like girly things. I like makeup and dressing up and fruity drinks, but I’ve also been in combat. I’ve fought in a war. I’m both girly and a badass. So is Nat. The two can co-exist, and neither one has to be better than the other.”

“You are now officially my best friend,” Natasha said, looking at Major with wonderment and a newfound respect. “Finally, someone else who actually gets it!”

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Lily said, standing up and walking off without waiting for a response from anyone.

“I like you, New Girl,” Sam said, holding out his fist for Major to bump, which she did with an embarrassed smile. “I want you around all the damn time.”

She turned to Bucky. “I’m sorry if I made your friend upset,” she said, “but after all those years of dealing with the shit that comes from being a woman with authority in the military, misogyny of any kind is a giant no go for me; particularly when it’s from another woman. We should all be propping each other up, not trying to tear one another down.”

“No, I completely understand. She was out of line,” Bucky said. She had been. There was no excuse for that kind of behavior, and if an old fogey from the ‘40s like him could realize that, she should have, too. “I’ll talk to her about it.”

Major smiled at him, seemingly pleased with the way he responded, and Bucky felt his heart swell. He was overcome with the idea that he wanted to make her happy all the time. Slow down! He told himself. You’ve only just met her!

Major glanced down at her watch, her expression falling. “Shit,” she said, picking up her leather jacket. “It’s getting late. I should probably head back if I’m going to catch the last train back into the city tonight.” She slid out of the booth and put her jacket on. “It was so great meeting you guys,” she said. “Please tell Lily again that I apologize if what I said offended her. Nat, thanks so much for the invite; I had a great time.” She leaned in to hug the redhead. “I’ll see you on Tuesday?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Nat said, smiling. “I’m so glad you made it out; get home safe, yeah?”

Major nodded. “Will do. Goodnight” She looked back as she started to walk away, catching Bucky’s eye one last time, and his heart dropped in his chest; he didn’t want to– couldn’t– let her walk out of his life just yet.

“Major,” he said, standing up and sliding out of the booth to join her. “Why don’t you let me give you a ride back to your place? It’s late, and the train’s not the safest this time of night.”

He heard Nat, Sam, and Steve all cough-laugh into their hands in the booth behind them, but didn’t pay them any mind. “That’s so sweet of you,” Major said, “but I would feel awful for inconveniencing you like that.”

Bucky shook his head. “No inconvenience at all, I swear,” he told her. “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t genuinely want to.”

Major chewed on her lip for a moment, considering his offer. “Okay,” she said eventually. “Yeah, you can give me a ride home.” Bucky thought his heart was going to soar out of his chest.

“While that’s real chivalrous of you and all, Bucket,” Sam said, “what are you gonna do about Lily? You drove her here. How you expect her to get home if you’re taking New Girl?”

Bucky turned and flashed Sam a Look. “Since you’re all going back to the Compound,” he said, “it shouldn’t be a problem for the three of you to drop her off at home on the way, right?” he asked pointedly. Come on, Sam, he thought, trying to silently communicate to his friend with his eyes. You said you’d be my wingman here!

Sam and Nat exchanged an annoyed look while Steve just looked resigned. “Yeah, alright,” Sam said after a minute. “We’ll make sure McIntyre gets home safe and sound. But you owe me one for this.”

Bucky put his hand to the small of Major’s back and led her out of the bar, waving to Steve, Nat and Sam as they went. His fingers brushed gently against hers as he led her to where he parked his motorcycle.

“Oh,” Major said. “I didn’t realize we’d be taking a bike.”

Bucky frowned. “Is that a problem? I can drive up to the Compound and get a car if–”

“No,” she smiled at him. “This is great. I haven’t been on a motorcycle in ages.”

Bucky unlocked the helmets and took his extra one, gently placing it on Major’s head and adjusting the straps so it was nice and snug. “There you go,” he said with a grin. He hopped onto the bike and waited for her to get on behind him. “Where’re we headed, doll?” he asked, typing the address of her SoHo condo into his GPS once she’d given it to him.

Once she’d gotten situated on the back of the bike, Major wrapped her arms around Bucky’s middle, and he immediately felt all his blood drain to his cock at her touch. “Uh, make sure you hold on tight,” he said, barely managing to choke out the words over the effect she was having on him. She squeezed him a little bit harder in acknowledgement, and Bucky knew that he was in for it.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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the-darklings · 2 years

Text

──𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐢 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞 [𝐈𝐕.]

summary: “Five hundred years, Wanderer. I do not forget so easily.”

pairing: dream of the endless x f!reader

wc: 3.8k+

warnings: angsty (x2), brief violence, Dream is still Dream ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (this is perm tag just in case you were wondering)

notes: longest chapter & we're really getting in the thick of it now. enjoy!!! and thank you for your support/comments/reblogs/likes!!!

part one | series masterlist | ao3 |

PART FOUR: YEAR 304-521

“You will spend time in the realm of each sibling—you will dream, despair, desire, destroy, delight and otherwise, and, eventually, die—but you were his from the very first page, and only he will read how your story comes out, a long time from now.”

Your cheek rests in your open palm, mulling over the words stored in your murky memories. To this day, you have no idea who imparted them on you—the voice holds no gender, no inflection, no discernable accent. They’re simply words, etched into your existence, laying out a path.

The Library of Dreams hums around you, a rustling of stories knitting themselves into being and imbuing the dusty air with a million diverging lives and daydreams. A thick leather-bound book lays open on the table where you sit, but you can’t focus on a single word printed, all but lost in your own head.

“Desire for love, desire for life, desire for belonging. It’s a marvel your own longing hasn’t killed you yet, sweet thing. Or has it?”

Heat pulses beneath your skin at the recollection; deliberate fingers kissing over your chin, a honeyed whisper in your ear. You shudder in your seat, troubled.

Has it?

“Wanderer… Wanderer!”

You jump, straightening in your chair. Your heart stutters, twisting inside your rib cage to the point of pain. Lucienne stands several paces away, a ledger firm in her hand. A slight frown creases her strong, composed features. She trails her shrewd stare over your slouched figure, seeking some invisible ailment.

“Oh, sorry, Lucienne. I was daydreaming.”

Perturbed air around her doesn’t dissipate. She ventures closer, turning towards the nearest shelf, and casually inquires, “What about?”

The librarian's fingers trail over the polished wooden shelves, delicate and loving, proud. If there's one thing you believe to be an absolute, it's Lucienne's love for her job and her loyalty towards Dream. Most dedicated, unfailingly reliable no matter what.

“Nothing in particular. I do have a lot to reflect on, you know?” Playing at repose, you stretch your arms over your head, hearing the popping and cracking that accompanies the gesture. “I’m four hundred and thirty-nine. I’m getting old.”

Your face holds a timeless, unmarred quality about it now. It once made you uncomfortable to see your own reflection. Unsettling, wrong—there are few things more disturbing than looking at yourself and not recognising who is staring back. Human, but also more, debased at the edges. There’s never been any doubt in your mind that it’s the curse morphing you. Here, in the Dreaming, you fit right in. No one glances twice your way due to your appearance. But out there, in the waking world…

It always begins with paranoia. Creeping, ravenous sensation that you’re wrong—something that requires removing from this Earth. It only gets worse from there.

It’s since become impossible to judge how old you were when the curse was first placed on you. You’ve all but given up on trying to figure it out. An adult, once. But now, adulthood, by human standards, is but a speck in your mind.

Lucienne’s shoulders tense at your words. There’s scepticism in her searching, dark gaze; a silent offer you choose to ignore. “You looked… never mind. Are you taking that one out?”

She nods towards the open book. You try your hardest not to show your relief she chose to drop the matter.

“Can I?” you wonder. “I like reading about writers and poets. Is it me, or does Dream like them especially?”

“It could be so.” Lucienne jots something in her ledger, moving leisurely along the shelves. She has an entire filing system and her own codex that makes little to no sense to you even to this day. She’s a marvel, and you don’t question her methods. If it works, why fix it? “Writers, poets, great artists—they’re all dreamers, you see. Universe’s raw imagination. Their dreams are special. Richest and most fantastical. Their vision shapes the waking world. Inspires others to follow suit. So yes, I suppose it could be said that Lord Morpheus is fond of his artists.”

The realisation is soft, tender in your heart, pulling out a small smile that chases shadows and ghosts away: “They inspire him.”

But Lucienne is looking behind you.

“My lord,” she greets with a polite nod.

A tingle races down your spine, and you shift in your seat with a wide grin. Dream stands between shelves, rolling like a dark, slithering shadow ever closer. His clothes are different to his usual attire but still blacker than the deepest night. He's strangely regal today; lean frame, piercing, bottomless eyes and cadaverous face. Or perhaps it's been too long since you've last seen each other. It's all too easy to forget how potent the Endless can be in their presence. How intimidating without striving to be so.

“Lucienne.” A nod back, then his regard pins to you. “Wanderer. You have returned.”

“Hey, Dream.” You gesture towards his uncustomary attire. “Busy as always?”

“I was in the waking world, visiting.”

Your brows lift. “You? Visiting? Was Death walking the Earth today?”

“No,” he replies. “I was meeting with a mortal. Hob Gadling. He professed, rather passionately, that he would not die. So my sister granted him his wish. I am observing his journey.”

Lucienne has fallen silent behind you—not a scratch of pen or sigh of breath. Dream’s words digest in your mind, picked apart, then put back together again; over and over, but the conclusion is the same.

“Death granted immortality to someone?” Your scratchy whisper is the loudest sound in the library. “Just like that?”

What would it have been like? To not be cursed, but instead, stumble upon two Endless who were curious enough to alter your destiny forever? What would it have been like to not experience terror? To not be ripped apart and hurt? Fear, constantly, what you might bring upon others? Anything would be better than this.

Dream doesn’t react to your strangled tone, impassive as when he first arrived. “Yes. Until he ceases to wish for it.”

And there’s something in the way Dream King articulates his words—apathetic, wilful, condemning. Hob Gadling’s destiny sounds etched into stone on Dream’s tongue; no hope for change, doomed to the torment the no longer mortal man brought onto himself.

“My lord, perhaps—”

Dream turns towards his librarian, oblivious to the turmoil no doubt visible starkly on your face.

“What is it, Lucienne?” Dream asks.

You push to your feet, the chair sliding jarringly across the floor. “I’m tired. If you excuse me.”

Neither of them stops you.

“That sure was something.”

The play was held out in the open with a roaring bonfire and dancing amassing everyone’s attention swiftly after its rather bombastic, borderline erotic conclusion. The festivities are long behind you, but it was nice to witness such raw joy for a change. Humanity is resilient. Despite economic difficulties, plagues, and wars, out here, on a warm Summer Solstice night, everything is momentarily good.

“Mortals dream,” Dream muses beside you, his tone matter-of-fact. “But they also desire.”

Gathering your skirt, you spin until you’re walking backwards to face him. “Is that bad?”

Silvery moonlight transforms Dream’s already pale skin into pure alabaster. Over his shoulder, the bonfire roars brightly in the far distance, and people, with their arms linked, dance in a circle around it. Homage to this short night, life-giving sun, and whatever gods they worship.

“No,” Dream responds calmly while you watch the festivities behind him. “Humanity is perplexing. They contradict themselves frequently. They prefer their wars and betrayals. They butcher their own unless they all follow the same ideals. Greed and selfishness drive them—a desire for more, desire to consume.”

A slight frown tugs your mouth down. “Not exactly a glowing opinion.”

Pleasant breeze whispers across the tall grass, the fields around you spanning sprawling and flat. Aside from your muffled footsteps across the lone dirt path, nothing else stirs in the darkness.

Dream is silent for so long that your attention drifts back to him. You find him already gazing at you. With deep shadows pooling around his sharp features, his eyes seem to glow faintly. Like two distant stars in the sky above. An apt thought because he often does feel just as remote, if not more so.

“But there is music,” he continues softly when your eyes meet. “There is generosity. There is the kindness of strangers. Love between kin. Friendship. In their dreams, they are all equal. Scared and brave. Full of hope and imagination.”

His low words lull you into a soft, woolly spell. You haven’t realised you’ve stopped walking until Dream halts in front of you.

“They’ll continue to surprise you,” you inform him.

There is no doubt in your mind. They’ll grow and expand. They’ve come so far already. Humanity will continue leaping forward, developing and bettering itself. They will fall and stumble but get back up again.

Dream is silent for even longer this time. But eventually, he does speak, a simple whisper, nearly lost in the sighing wind: “Not we?”

The implication strikes you like a lightning bolt.

When have you stopped considering yourself to be human? You look, walk, eat, and feel as they do. But more now, deeper, painfully so. Eternity is carrying every scar on your soul and body and accepting there’ll be no end to it.

“I…”

Your stomach roils. Heat bubbles from deep within. You’re not certain if it’s fear, embarrassment, adrenaline or something else entirely. Before his fathomless stare, you’re naked and small.

So you swallow it down. You swallow everything down, leaving it for later, and smile brightly up at him. “Thank you for coming with me.”

Because you didn’t expect him to agree when you offered to come here. Not with how perpetually busy he is. Not with another human companion now on his roster, no less. And, as expected, Dream doesn’t push the subject further.

“Five hundred years, Wanderer. I do not forget so easily.”

That, somehow, hits you even harder. Deeper. So he knew? He’s aware this night marks five hundred years since he first came across you sleeping in his garden. The knowing way Dream gazes at you in the darkness implies as much.

“I just thought…” You’re not sure what you thought. That you don’t matter? That tolerating you is one thing, but this suggests your strange connection is significant to him on some level. His admittance might be somewhat roundabout, but it’s nevertheless there. “Why would it matter? I’m more like a stray. We don’t have a set date like with your friend Hob.”

You hadn’t realised how much his stern face has softened until it’s wiped clean in a blink.

“My friend?” The temperature drops by several degrees. Dream’s voice is reverberating, deep thunder vibrating through the quiet space between your bodies. “He is but a mortal man who does not understand what he has asked for. He will learn.”

“Is that how you see us, Dream?” Your words are wisps, dancing in the brewing storm that is him. “Fireflies destined to fade, leaving no mark behind? Are we only here for your amusement?”

Dream slants forward, closer, his words pointed despite their softness, “You are no longer like them, Wanderer. You become a little more like me with each passing day.”

“No, I’m not.” Your smile is as grim as your answer. “Because if I was like you, this wouldn’t be so painful for me.”

Something potent swells at your words, edging him backwards. “Wanderer—”

You pivot with another careless smile, gently rippling your skirt around your ankles.

“I did enjoy the festivities,” you call over your shoulder, light and conversational. “We should come again soon. Just don’t wear the helm this time. I think that poor woman thinks she saw the Devil. They will assume she’s mad.”

The count inside your head reaches eleven before Dream’s footsteps resume, following after you.

“You should visit during Dreamfall,” he suggests suddenly.

You slow, but don’t glance behind you. “Dreamfall?”

“Every five hundred years, the universe spins into brief stillness, and all living things taste the Dreaming,” he explains. Your head tips back towards the star-riddled black canvas while you listen to him. “It is one night in the endless void of time I can give every single being good dreams. It is a spectacle unlike no other. Dreams falling from the skies, dancing through stars, washing over our cosmos.”

His expositions are so plain yet so enigmatic and beautiful. You could listen to him forever.

“When is it?” you ask.

“In twenty-two years.”

What is another twenty-two years for you two? Once, it was an entire lifetime. Now it’s no more than a slow, hazy afternoon that lingers suspended, constantly making you question the passage of time. “Oh, well, a few pit stops, and I’ll see you in twenty-two years, then.”

“Wan—”

You don’t let him finish. Your skin pinches in a million different places, burning as if it were peeling, and then you’re gone with a crack.

You should have known better.

It always begins with paranoia. Subtle side stares, insidious murmurs muffled behind weathered hands, abrupt cuts in conversion whenever you arrive. This time you had hoped beyond all hope. Naively let yourself get lulled into a false sense of security. There are no exceptions amongst the living for you. Sometimes the curse mocks you, lingering on the sidelines long enough for you to start foolishly hoping yet again. Sooner rather than later, the curse will alter them all. Cloud their perception. Poison them against you.

Stifling, hot smoke curls in your lungs. Once beautiful, beloved home is but a shell, fire devouring everything in sight.

“Where you go, misery will follow. Where you go, horrors will befall those around you. You will have no home. You will know no peace. Eternity will be your damnation.”

“No, no, stop!”

Your scream falls to deaf ears as villagers drag you away from the burning hut. Hands squeeze your arms, waist, and legs. No power bubbles in your veins. It never does when you need it most. Whatever wicked power the curse has bestowed on you, it never comes to your assistance when you need it most.

“Let go of me! Sahsin, please!”

The young woman’s face contorts in a sneer. There’s nothing left of the girl you first met.

“You did this,” she hisses, grabbing you by the jaw, dirtied finger digging deep into your unguarded flesh. “You killed them!”

The hut roof collapses, sending villagers scattering and screaming. Devil, blood sacrifice, demon.

“I did not hurt them!” you sob. “Please, I loved them. I—”

Her slap sends a jolt through your neck. Her full strength has been packed into the hit. You would have preferred a punch, a kick. This feels so much crueller than either. Degrading. Your ears ring, blood and saliva dribbling from your cut lips and down your numbed chin. Your head gets wrenched upwards by the scruff, your yelp caught in your throat.

You believed Sahsin and her parents were different. They had been so kind, so good to you despite you being no more than a stranger to them. They shared their bread and their milk. They reminded you what it’s like to laugh and have good company; uncomplicated and human.

Sahsin’s yellowed teeth rest bared—repulsed by you—while she examines your bruised, tear-stained face. In what you will one day come to recognise as Old Saxon, she utters her contamination: “Witch.”

And there are no dreams, no stardust, and no liberation. Not for what follows.

You land facefirst into the viridescent, pliant grass.

You’re in too much pain to react past a relieved, choked laugh. The sweetness in the air, the heat prickling your cheek, the distant roar of a waterfall. At once, you relax.

The Dreaming. At long last.

Fiddler’s Green stirs to life at your arrival. Every blade of grass and flower bends in your direction. River water churns, bubbling. Nearby willow reaches its thin branches towards you, tender on your bloodied cheek.

“I’m fine.” Each syllable is a croak. “It’s fine. I’m good. I—”

You can’t move your body.

“Wanderer!”

You don’t recognise the voice. More join quickly. Urgent, anxious. Everywhere hands brush, pain blooms.

“—get Lord Morpheus—”

“Not—he—”

And through the chaos, cuts a deep, clear voice, so dearly missed a sob bubbles in your mouth, “What happened?”

Cold, faint touch dulls the throbbing pain in your cheek.

Your mouth hurts, but you smile regardless. “Hey, Dream,” you wheeze weakly. “I’m a b-bit early. Hope you don’t mind…”

Then nothing.

“What is the meaning of this?”

He’s not sure what startles him more: the festivity occurring right in his throne room or seeing you up and dancing in the middle of it.

Days have passed since your disastrous return. Morpheus has scarcely seen you around the castle or the Dreaming in general since. Lucienne’s updates have all been tight-lipped and morose. Once more, they’ve gotten a reminder of just how deep cruelty could run in humankind. The curse corrupts, but it has no power to form what’s not already present. It enchants the worst and funnels it towards Wanderer.

Find the ones responsible, get rid of them, Corinthian had suggested mildly, coldly, they have no right.

Morpheus might have been tempted by vengeance had he not doubted Corinthian’s reasoning for suggesting it. Would the nightmare rejoice to see his master succumbing to his lowest impulses?

“Dream.” Your smile is friendly and wide, bruises not entirely healed unashamedly on show. “We, uh. We’re having a celebration.”

That much he gathered. Numerous dreams have gathered in his throne room. They all hunch as if waiting for his ire to spill, their levity prior to his arrival long forgotten. Dreamfall is months away, yet in spirit, this gathering is surely its equal.

“Celebrating, what, exactly?” he demands.

Mervyn cringes.

You shrug. “Does one need a reason?” Your hand stretches out, fingers wiggling. “Join us.”

“Kid, that’s not a good idea—”

“Continue if you must,” he cuts Mervyn off, brushing past the small crowd and towards the stairs leading to his throne. A strange, light feeling has enclosed the usually dull space and… “I will not prohibit it.”

He’s never seen so many willingly assembled in his throne room or being this happy about it. And no such smile—genuinely carefree—has graced your face in a long while. Perhaps after your last outing to the waking world…

Dream settles on his throne without a word. His elbow rests on the stone arm, his hand covering his mouth. A cautious, mild tune picks back up. His subjects are awkward in their attempt to unwind, their enthusiasm dampened but not entirely thawed yet. Minutes in which he does not speak help them forget he is there. This, he can give them.

You spin Lucienne in an energetic dance who holds onto you and follows in stumbling, slow steps. Your hand squeezes hers encouragingly, your lips moving with the shifting tempo.

Lucienne is all dogged determination and focus—her frown deep but progress quick. She has always been gifted and tenacious. It’s why he chose her. As the evening progresses, her footwork becomes more intricate, her limbs less stiff. Foreign sensation kindles deep in his chest. Pride? Could it be?

Jessamy caws quietly, ruffling her feathers while they supervise the small gathering.

What is he doing? Since when does he permit such revelries? What misplaced, foolish attempt is this? There is no stopping the curse. Until recently, he’s never given it more than a fleeting thought. Or consider the sheer damage it inflicts on you.

A cursed mortal is such for a reason. Your story can only end in tragedy. His sole concern is and should be his domain.

Then why…

"Do you intend to sit up there forever? Doesn't it get lonely?"

He’s been so caught up in his musings that Morpheus hasn’t noticed others clearing out. They’ve likely endeavoured not to catch his notice and slip away unseen. How is it that you can form ties with his subjects with such ease, but not he?

You love them, but you don’t see them.

Centuries later, those words still echo back in response with the same brutal frankness.

You sit on the stairs with your back facing him. Some injuries remain half-healed, yet no pain or discomfort showed on your face earlier. If anything, pure elation had dripped from your every laugh and grin while you taught Lucienne how to dance.

He settles beside you soundlessly in what would be no more than a blink for you. It’s unusual, this position, but not entirely unpleasant.

“See, it’s pretty nice,” you say quietly.

Sweat cools against your brow. Your mouth sits relaxed, your expression serene, slightly dazed. Exhausted. But the good kind. There’s something exceedingly human about you at that moment. Soft and warm and fragile.

Over five hundred years.

Perhaps you’re both cursed with misfortune.

“Wanna know a secret?” you whisper. He peers at you, shoulder to shoulder, silently prompting. “It’s nights like these that I live for. Safe, with my friends, in a land of dreams. No matter how bad it gets out there, I have this. I’ll always have this. What better reason to go on?”

You turn to face him with a close-lipped smile, the skin around your eyes crinkling. When smiling, each and every bruise and scrape across your skin becomes so much more apparent. The sheer brutality astounds him. Infuriates him.

“Why did you not call for me?”

He’s been sitting on that question since they found you in a field of fresh blooms, delirious and bleeding. This is but one instance. How many have there been prior? He recalls your incident in Hell, but this is no doubt worse.

Morpheus silently wonders if the way you’re looking at him right now—sad, diffident, and so uncomfortably loud in your emotions—means anything. Are you this silent, for this long, because you don’t wish to respond? Or because there is no response to give?

“Because I didn’t think you would come.”

He almost wishes he hadn’t asked. Except, of course, you’re not wrong to assume this. Not so long ago, he might not have heeded such a call for aid. Not if the Dreaming needed him more. Because you’re cursed and therefore cannot be lost. What is one cursed mortal in comparison to the cosmos?

“Swear to me,” he rasps solemnly. Just you, and him, and this hushed darkness encompassing his throne room. “That if this should ever happen again, you will.”

Your throat bobs, but you don’t look away. “Would you come for me?”

Gently, your head drops against his shoulder, your cheek warm against the scratchy fabric of his black coat. You're only hiding your face, fearful of what his answer might be. He's well aware this is why you're bold enough to touch when you've never dared prior. Morpheus doesn't move. Your weight is wholly unfamiliar beside him, so he simply says, "Yes."

A quiet, tremulous breath wheezes from your lips, followed by a hesitant, “Promise?”

But it’s not until the weight at his side fully relaxes, growing heavier and still, that Morpheus offers the universe his foolish response:

“Promise.”

an: Dream's "it's been five hundred years, I don't forget so easily" is sweet until you remember that he's the pettiest bitch alive, and never forgives or forgets, ever. then, it becomes sweet but also really hilarious.

thank you for reading, be sure to let me know your thoughts, and vvv excited for the next part. things are really ramping up now.

p.s first quote in the chapter is actually taken directly taken from the sandman comic just rephrased slightly. me? repurposing canon lines to fit my out-of-context narrative? it's more likely than you think!!!

#the sandman #the sandman x reader #dream x reader #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless #the sandman netflix #netflix sandman #sandman x reader #fic: today i bury you in me #deep in the trenches as the saying goes. clown girl masterclass.

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russellsppttemplates · 8 months

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You're the best papa (Pierre Gasly)

A look into Pierre and Y/N at the beggining of their journey into parenthood for the fourth time

Note: english is not my first language. You know what's better than a small blurb? Blurb like moments compiled in one place, at least I think it is!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions pregnancy, post partum

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Here's your coffee", Pierre croaked out, setting the mug on your bedside table after he kissed your forehead, "I have our little miss here, changed and ready for some food when you're ready", he added, sitting next to you on the bed as your baby girl rested on his chest.

Celeste was eight days old, but because of the initial check ups and the fact that you delivered on a Thursday, the hospital kept you for the first few days, so it was only the second day you and Pierre had been home with your new baby. Pascale and Jean had taken the other three kids with them on a small getaway for a few days so you and Pierre could settle in a new routine, FaceTiming you every night still.

"Mama has had a sip of the good stuff", you said, finding a good position on the bed before you stretched your arms out, "so now you can have some good stuff too, baby girl, come to mama", you cooed, laying her on the pillow so you wouldn't need to support her solely with your core strength and helping her latch, "there you go, my love", you brushed her soft hair.

Pierre got to go to the bathroom and then dowstairs, coming up when Celeste was done with feeding, "I can burp her", Pierre smiled, grabbing a muslin cloth just in case she spit some up, "I have the pad ready for you in the bathroom, and we can head downstairs afterwards because I'm getting breakfast ready, too", he smiled, kissing your forehead before he grabbed Celeste, cuddling her to his chest as you slowly walked to the bathroom. Even though the c-section had been successful and there were no complications, it was still abdominal surgery to some extent, so moving around was something you had to be mindful about, and having a pad to catch anything that might have been in there made you feel safer and more comfortable.

Heading downstairs, again in a slow waddle, you say Pierre cooking what looked like scrambled eggs, your baby girl safe tucked in his chest and held by a sling, "you know, I'm quite jealous of her because she gets to be carried around in your chest all day", you said as you approached Pierre, kissing his back before peeking to see your daughter's delightful sleeping expression.

"I'll hold you when she goes to nap on her bassinet, deal?", he teased you back, carrying the plates back to the table so you could eat.

Having your husband at home while you were recovering was something you saw as an incredible privilege not everyone had, allowing to actually sleep when the baby slept. You woke up with Pierre cuddling you in bed, starting to trace shapes on his hands, "are you up?", he asked, "I am", you whispered.

"I just changed her and fed her, and she's back asleep after I talked to her for a bit", he said, "how is your incision site feeling?", he asked, "it's good, moving around is still weird, I have this weird feeling that makes me think that all my organs are just going to drop out as I walk", you giggled, appreciating his attentiveness.

"If you need anything, let me know, yes?", he requested, holding your hand out so he could kiss your knuckles, one by one, "are you ready to have everyone back home?", he asked.

"I think so, yes. I miss them a lot, and since your parents are kindly staying with us for a few days, I think it's a good way to finally get the whole 'four kids' thing under our belt", you admitted, "if there is anything, we will make it work, like we always do".

Overall, the kids had been pretty good, always carefully when they got near you, no matter how much they wanted to hug and climb on your lap, but always doting on their little sister, especially Élodie, who now felt like she had a live doll to play with, always helping you when it was time for a bath and peppering the smallest kisses in her sister's hands, while the boys, although sometimes cheeky, always wanted to help around and make sure mama and Celeste were doing good.

"Is everyone ready?", you heard your husband's voice from downstairs, making you walk to meet him, "Wow, guys! Doesn't mama look beautiful in her dress?", he said, making all the kids run to you, hugging your legs and torso carefully, "you look beautiful, mama! Do a spin!", Louis said, prompting you to turn into a blushing mess as you spun.

"You look gorgeous, amour", Pierre said as he kissed you, "it's still a maternity dress because this whole area is still trying to work itself out, and it's easy to reach for a boob if she's hungry, it's really nothing spec-", you were interrupted by him, "you look like the hottest mama, and I'm not even sorry for staring at you", he winked.

"Oh, I think she just scratched my arm", Alexandre said, "it didn't hurt or anything, but I think it was her nails", he pointed out, catching Pierre's attention, "Oh, yes, you're right. Can you go to her room and grab me the file, please?", he asked.

In a hurry, all three children said "I'll go!", promptly wanting to help as much as they could. "Careful guys, no need to rush!", you yelled, not wanting any of your kids to hurt themselves.

"They're just trying to be helpful, bless them", you commented, sitting Celeste on your lap so she would be ready when Pierre needed to file her nails.

"I have it here, mama!", Élodie said, giving you the small pouch containing the electrical nail trimmer, sitting next to you on the sofa so she could see what you were doing.

"I'll hold her, you can do it", you nudged Pierre, seeing him grab the small machine and testing it on his own.

"Are you going to let papa trim your nails? You even have some scratches on your cheeks too, little one", he told his youngest daughter, gently grabbing her hand and shortening the length of her nails before using a softer file to leave the nail edges as soft as possible, "Good girl", he complimented, not ignoring the way the words made you shiver before he grabbed her other hand, doing the same until she had nails that wouldn't hurt herself or anyone else.

Getting up to bring the pouch back to the room and grab a new muslin cloth from the drawer, Pierre bent down just enough to whisper in your ear, "you're also a good girl, the best girl, in fact", leaving you a blushing mess as you cuddled your baby.

"Oh, look at at that scrunch, princess!", you heard Pierre from the nursery, "let me grab my phone so I can send this to Uncle Charles!", he squealed.

Resting against the door, you appreciated the scene: Celeste was dressed in a cute onesie and she was scrunching in the most delicious way possible, with Pierre recording and smiling at her, "Oh, come here", he stopped recording when he noticed her fussing, grabbing her and holding her, "it's alright, babygirl, you're good, you're good", he tutted, smiling when he inhaled her newborn scent.

"It never gets old, does it?", you asked, grabbing his attention, "no, still as amazing as the first time", he replied, walking over to you since he was just about to leave the room anyway, "and you, still amazing as ever, too. Remember that silly day you told me you were afraid of not being a good father?", you asked and he nodded, blushing as he kissed your lips, "like I said, silly silly idea that one was. You're the best papa they could have".

#pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly × reader #pierre gasly fluff #pierre gasly fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

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svmjaeyvn · 3 months

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love maze, s.jy

chapter five pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: tbd (series)

masterlist

add yourself to the taglist here!

genre: college!au, mutual friends, fake dating, smut.

synopsis: an unfortunate encounter, drunken mistakes, and a sort of (definitely) stalker leads jake sim ‘dating’ his best friend’s childhood crush.

or, your life gets intertwined with a rich boy’s in attempt to not get sued by his crazy personal fangirl and like with all good cliches, sex overcomplicates things.

contents: smut, sort of strangers to fuck buddies to lovers pipeline, childhood best friend!jay, mentions of best friend! yunjin, curly haired & mixed reader, uni!au, rich nepo baby!jake, enha frat boys, lots of kissing, fake dating turning into fwb real quick, totally way too into it for it to be fake early on, big booty reader that’s jake’s obsessed with, partying and alcohol use, slight violence, he fell first and harder trope, stem bf & writer gf, (kinda overly) possessive jake, some angst to spice things up, daddy issues, hyper independent reader who struggles with her feelings, fluff and happy ending!!

a/n: hello~ i’ve never been a tumblr girly but i have went through my w*ttpad era back in 2018 so bare with me y’all. this will be a series but not that long (i hope) so pls look forward to it. warning tags will be placed before each “chapter” to specify what to expect. pls pls reblog and interact, i’d love to have feedback and see what your thoughts are. okay! yay, for now enjoy and thank you sm :D

MDNI, 18+

tap below to continue

CHAPTER FIVE: RELATIONSHIPS

previous masterlist next

word count: 2.7k

warnings: smut. sex upstairs during a party, oral (f&m receiving), implication of p in v, aftercare, comfort, fluff, jake beginning to be down horrendous

a/n: my bad for the lag y’all, i was on vacation since i had friends come into state and focused on that. but! here’s a chapter from me to you, pls enjoy (also crazy way to start a chapter ik HAHAH)

WHINEY BREATHS LEFT Jake's lips as he stared down at you. Locked in his bedroom, party still lively in full swing the muffled music from downstairs was heard through the walls, you had found yourself kneeled in front of his bed in between his legs that had his pants pooled at his ankles.

"Fuck, fuck you take it so good baby," He mumbles out, a fistful of hair in his grasp as he began to move his hips along with the rhythm of your head that bobbed up and down along his cock. "Such a pretty little mouth,"

A hum of delight erupted from your throat at his praise, the vibration causing him to twitch while you pushed your head further down, doing your best to fit all of his length into your mouth. Jake was big, bigger than most and was found to be the whiniest mess when he became undone.

Your lack of a gag reflex and the sloppy head game you seemed to have mastered was more than enough to have him like puddy in your hands. The combination was overstimulating, the sounds of your drool that began to wet his thighs, the way your tongue swirled around his tip, sucking on it with your hand stroking his shaft at the same time.

Jake suddenly yanked you away from his dick, hissing at the change while you pouted, peering up at his with a curious expression. With his thumb wiping away the drool that dribbled down your chin in the process, he leaned down to place a kiss to your lips. "You're gonna make me fall in love with your head," He mumbles against your lips, the words causing a small giggle to leave your mouth before a sudden yelp replaced it.

Lifting you onto the bed with little resistance, your head gently hit the pillows while Jake began a trail of kisses. Starting from your waist, his fingers pushed up the thin material of your shirt as he moved up. Tugging at it, you obliged to his silent command and pull the shirt up over your head.

A small groan erupts from Jake's throat, eyes focused on the lacy black bra that was rather see through, your hardened nipples seen in the thin material as he rolls one between the pads of his thumb and index finger. A moan hitched in the back of your throat, eyes rolling back while the sloppy open mouthed kisses that Jake continued to trail over your body held a smirk of delight.

"Fuck, Jae, please," You whine, hips moving against his knee that was placed between your thighs in attempt to get some stimulation to your aching core that was begging for his attention.

"Please what?" Jake teases, watching as you began to grind yourself up against him, seeming so desperate for his touch that caused his tip to throb.

You sent him a pointed look, one that lasted only for a second before he dug his knee closer into you, a loud moan leaving your lips in surprise. "I need you," You beg, voice whiny and hands reaching up to tangle into his hair. "Please, please make me feel good,"

Your pleads were more than enough for him to pull away. Undressing your bottom half in one swift motion, Jake's fingers looped around the thin thong he had been getting teased with all night. His hand reached down to your clit, beginning to rub small circles along your pussy and feeling how wet you were through the soaked fabric.

"Such a good girl," He hums, smiling at the way your body reacted to his touch, a rather loud moan escaping from your lips as his head moved down between your thighs. Trailing a line of kisses along the soft skin, inching closer to your heated core that he still rubbed, he pulled the material to the side to place his last kiss directly on your swollen clit that was aching to be touched. A small laugh left his lips hearing your lewd mumbles, a fist full of his hair now wrapped between your fingers. "Shhh baby, you have to be quiet so no one hears,"

His tongue licked a long stripe up your center, a small hum leaving his throat getting a taste of your arousal. Fully stuffing his head between your thighs, Jake gives little room to adjust as he begins to lap up and down along your folds, his tongue dipping into your hole a few times causing a loud moan to leave your lips. He doesn't stop, his hands forcing your thighs to stay open with a tight grip no matter how much you squirmed beneath him.

His lower half pushed into the mattress in attempt to alleviate some tension of his own, becoming a mess along side you as it seemed giving you head was just as much for his own pleasure as yours. He didn't stop, he couldn't not with how you mewled airy moans throughout the air and pushed your hips against him on your own. The pleasant taste of your arousal an added bonus, entirely drunk on the taste and wanting more with the way you began to come undone with just his tongue alone.

"Jake, oh my god," Your body was attempting to squirm away though you wanted nothing more than for him to continue. "Jake please— fuck," Letting out a loud moan, you roll your eyes back upon feeling the built up tension in your stomach finally snap. Riding the high of your orgasm, Jake slowed down his pace but continued to lap up your clit to the point near overstimulation, your body falling limp at the intensity.

He lets out a small hum against you, placing one last soft peck to your core causing your legs to tense up. Jake smiles, sitting up and positioning himself in between your legs while your eyes were shut, still attempting to catch your breath before feeling his tip push itself between your folds.

"C’mon baby, we're not done yet,"

YOU WOKE UP with a stir. Feelingly overly warm, you attempt to push the covers off your body but tense up feeling the unfamiliar weight on your chest. Peeking an eye open, there was minimal light entering the room, presumably still early morning while the events from the night prior flood back at once. The house was silent compared to last night.

The quiet snores that left Jake's lips suddenly find your attention. With one of his arms secured around your waist, both of your legs were tangled up underneath the blanket. The minimal regret that filled you was easily subsided by the satisfaction that came of last night. You now understood why Jake's reputation was the way it was, never before had you hooked up with a guy that willingly and eagerly ensured you came first just with head, not mentioning the other two orgasms he managed to get out of you that left your body shaking and sure you reached a new ecstasy.

Yeah, you'd do it again in a heartbeat.

Glancing over Jake's sleeping figure, you nearly giggled at the sight of his slightly parted lips and how utterly innocent he looked opposed to last night. You could only hope this wouldn't put a damper on your dynamic, a small part of you hoped that it could be an occasional occurrence, maybe you should add a new rule to the contract.

With a small sigh, you begin to wiggle your way out of Jake's grasp, doing your best to not wake him but the sudden urge to pee was more of a priority. Jake let out a disgruntled groan upon feeling you break free from his use of you as a body pillow, your warmth disappearing as he blinked his eyes open to see you hovering on the edge of the bed.

"___?" He mumbles, rubbing the corner of his eye with a yawn. You turn your head. sending his a sheepish smile. "What're you doing?"

"Bathroom," You respond, him taking the reason with a small nod, already turning over to make himself comfortable but the stilled silence that filled the room indicated you hadn't moved.

"You alright?"

"I can't walk," You mumble, the confession one of embarrassment but you didn't want to have to explain yourself if you ended up falling to or from the bathroom across the hall.

Suddenly sitting up, the cheeky smile that fell upon Jake's lips was visible even in the dim room. "What'd you say?"

"Jake," You drawl out, rolling your eyes while he lets out a small laugh. "Come on, this is your fault so help me before I end up peeing in your bed,"

He got up this time, still giggling to himself as he made his way around the bed. "Sorry ___, didn't think you were that fragile," He teased, his hands used as support as you pulled yourself up.

"I'm not, you just bent me in half like a damn pretzel though so you know," You huff back, using his arms to lean your body weight against him. Slowly, Jake began to guide the two of you out of the room, momentarily peeking out in the hall to ensure it was clear considering you only wore his t-shirt and nothing underneath.

"You liked it," He hums back while you click your tongue, not having room to deny him. "Can you pee on your own or do I have to hold your hand for moral support too?"

"Always a charmer aren't you?" You say dryly, plastering a sarcastic smile on your features and instead leaning onto the bathroom counter for support. "Now go away, I don't think we'll ever be at the level where I'd pee in front of you," Shooing him away, Jake merely rolls his eyes as he turns.

"Yell when you need me to come help you up from the toilet,"

"SO... HOW LONG is this gonna go on?" Yunjin mutters, eyes trained on Jake's figure that walked back and forth throughout the kitchen. Attempting to stay quiet, she leans into your side while he's ears perk up at the mention of his name, though making no indication of noticing.

With a small shrug, you stare down at your computer, popping one of the freshly washed grapes into your mouth while attempting to read whatever material was assigned as homework for the day. "‘Til my birthday," Yunjin lets out a small tsk, turning back to her phone as she types at a furiously fast speed. Raising a brow, you nudge her side. "What?"

"Minjun texted me," She starts, trailing off slightly as you tense up at her words. "He's coming back to town and wanted to see how you were,"

"Why's he texting you asking about me?" You tut, rolling your eyes momentarily at the idea while she shakes her head.

"You guys didn't end well, he's nervous about reaching out,"

You let out a small hum, lifting your eyes as you trailed over Jake's figure, who had seemingly not heard a word in his midst of making ramyeon for your study date, though he listened carefully, making less noise with the pots as he moved around. Looking to Yunjin, you pat her hand. "I know he's your cousin, but don't talk to him on my behalf. It ended for a reason,"

A small pout fell upon her lips but nonetheless she nodded along. Taking his time to serve the two bowls full of hot soup, Jake spun around with a small smile. "Who's Minjun?"

Yunjin nearly spits out the water she had began to sip, eyes wide and loud coughs heaving from her chest. "W-what? Ha! N-no one what do you mean—"

"An ex," You roll your eyes, patting Yunjin's back as she's on the brink of falling out of her seat in her attempt to come up with an excuse and failing.

Jake hums, taking a second to ponder it over before leaning around you, peering at Yunjin from where he sat on your side. "Unfortunately for him, I don't like sharing, so tell him he's lost his chance," A wink was added to his words, seemingly playful but the shared look he sent your way didn't go unnoticed.

Yunjin nodded along right away, seemingly embarrassed due to being caught and excusing herself from the table. Running away to her room, it left the two of you in silence, one that you didn't particularly mind but felt Jake's eyes gazing over you from the side.

"Yes?"

"Wanna talk about it or is exs a forbidden topic?" He questions, head tilted in the slightest of ways and thoughts of any studying getting done completely discarded.

You shrug. "He was a TA in one of my classes my first semester here. Ended up being Yunjin's cousin so we started hanging out together through that and eventually started going out. Broke up a few months back because he didn't want to be in a relationship with me anymore, nothing crazy or dramatic like having a long term stalker wannabe girlfriend like you," Summing up the details, you spoke as if it were a fling, nothing too serious or worth mentioning.

Though in reality, it was the first time you felt something quite like it, your first daze into thinking you've finally understood all the Disney films and K-Dramas you've watched growing up. Only difference was it left you devastated without a Prince Charming, him seemingly growing tired of you without an explanation. Jay spent two solid weeks with you, stuck to your side like glue ensuring you made it out of bed each day and ate proper meals.

Jake knew that well enough, remembering the time his best friend disappeared without a word only to check in every few days with a brief explanation as to why. At the time he didn't necessarily care about the details, only remembering the gist of his heartbroken friend that needed a little extra attention in getting over it, oh well, and that your name was the one Jay kept repeating over and over again through it.

Deciding against pushing any further, Jake turned to his bowl of ramyeon in front of him, the steam subsiding from its initial boiling temperature into a comfortable one. "His loss," He speaks, the words so simple and nonchalant but it provided a small comfort in your thoughts. "Great for me though, and you 'cause now you get an even better and hotter boyfriend,"

A small laugh left your lips before you could stop it. Raising a brow at him as he took a bite of his food, you turned slightly, legs brushing against one another but neither did anything to move. "How would you know that?"

"I just do," Jake smiles, entirely certain of himself before pointing a finger in your direction. "And if not you still have to lie and call me pretty so it doesn't really matter now, does it?" You hum in response, not bothering to retort before he nudges your foot with his own. "Right?"

"We playing footsie like we're kids again?" Kicking him back, you snort seeing Jake shake his head, peering at you with expectation as he bats his eyes and leans in slightly. Your hand was pressed against his chest in attempt to push him away, his own grabbing hold of your wrist in the lightest of ways to move closer if possible. "I didn't realize you were such a baby,"

"I like praise," He shrugs, a small smirk playing at his lips as he said so. "Well?"

"Yes Jake, you're pretty," You huff, bottom lip tucked between your teeth in attempt to hold back your laugh but failing as his hands dance along your sides, digging into your stomach in attempt to tickle you. "N-no!"

"Say it like you mean it," He wages, his own laughs filling the air and mixing in with your own. There was a bright gleam in his eyes, a look of fondness watching as you leaned back too far in your seat, nearly falling out of the chair causing him to wrap his arms around your waist and holding you up, weak from the lack of proper air as you laughed.

"Y-you're so needy," You giggle, peering up at him through fluttering eyes while he hums back. Jake's fingers brushed away the few strands of hair that fell into your view, gently helping you upright while still supporting your weight.

"Better get used to it ‘cause I’m not going anywhere,"

my tags!! @slutforsjy @jaklvbub @whowantshota @addictedtohobi @coolwitu @simjyunnie @kgneptun @graythecoffeebean @143ikeu @zyvlxqht @tesywesy

( pls make sure your settings make you applicable to tag )

#enhypen #enhypen jake #jaeyun x reader #jake sim #sim jaeyun #enha x reader #jaeyun smut #jake x reader #enha #enhypen jake smut

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miscling · 17 days

Text

Claws, Teeth, and Those Beneath

The cat sighed. The mouse in her claws squeaked in terror.

‘Oh be quiet,’ the cat said, raking a claw across its cheek. ‘don’t you do anything else?’

The mouse had no answer except to squeak again, shaking under the cat’s claw.

‘Ugh, just go. I’m not in the mood for this…’

The mouse looked up with terror in its eyes, scared for the pursuit it expected to follow, but the cat’s disinterested gaze didn’t follow its movements. Though the mouse might have been disappointed, it left. The cat sat, sighing loudly.

‘What’s got you so upset?’ said a voice.

The cat turned, eyes narrowed as she beheld the fox. ‘I’m not in the mood, kit.’

‘But I am,’ said the fox with a snarl. ‘I’m coming for you.’

‘No you are not,’ the cat hissed, but the fox still approached with violence in its eyes.

‘Please, struggle,’ the fox said with a smile. ‘Make this fun for me. I’ll still have your flesh for my pleasure.’

The cat’s situation came into focus. It was the prey now. The fox was the predator. It prepared its claws for a fight, but it wouldn’t win against the fox’s teeth. The cat would have to rely on its agility.

The fox squealed in delight as the cat took to fleeing, bounding after it with joy in its heart. A hunt was good for the soul. The fox chased the cat, until the cat was backed into a corner.

The cat raised its back, claws ready, teeth bared, hissing at the fox. ‘This is your last chance to turn back and run,’ it said. ‘I won’t let you have me without a fight.’

Something in the fox’s nerve broke. Staring at the desperate cat, its posture shifted defensively. It averted its gaze, backing away slowly, until it sprinted away at full speed.

‘That’s what I thought!’ the cat shouted at the fox’s back, relaxing its posture and settling down to lick itself. ‘I suppose the chase was fun, though,’ it mewed to itself. ‘Perhaps that’s what I was missing.’

‘Heh,’ said a deep, rumbling voice behind the cat. ‘You like being chased?’

The cat leapt into the air with a yowl, turning in mid-air to see the wolf behind them. They were huge, imposing, and strong. Before the cat could take to running, the wolf’s claws pushed the cat to the ground. They were too strong to fight off.

‘Let me go!’ the cat squeaked. ‘The fox would be more tasty!’

The wolf leaned down over the cat and licked it. ‘No. I like your fear more.’

The cat shuddered in pleasure at the wolf’s tongue across its flesh. ‘Let… me… go…?’

The wolf laughed. They knew what the cat had yet to figure out. The cat wasn’t a predator, it was prey. The wolf lifted the cat up effortlessly, throwing it aside and pouncing up and onto the cat. Their jaws teased at the cat’s throat.

‘What do you say?’ the wolf growled. ‘Do you want to be my prey?’

The cat squeaked, mewling shyly as it stared in wide eyed terror at the wolf. Its body betrayed it as heat passed through every fibre of its being. It wasn’t just the chase it wanted; it wanted to be chased. ‘I… I want to be your prey…’ it said.

‘Good,’ the wolf growled, and dragged the cat away in its teeth.

~~~

Partially inspired by this post by @turquoise-lily, which crossed my dash this morning. It set off a little inspiration that made this story!

Reblog if you enjoyed this story, and check out my others under the Miscling Writes tag!

#miscling writes #preyling #predator kink #primal play

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hotvintagepoll · 2 months

Text

Propaganda

Edana Romney (Corridor of Mirrors)— Look. It is definitely a case for your discretion. Edana Romney had only one major film role and then foundered in a Britain/Hollywood that didn’t like her look. But the film she starred in was also one she CO-WROTE and co-founded a whole production company to make happen, and it is a lavish, imaginative gothic romance where she runs around in fanciful medieval gowns and has incredible eyelashes. She was also known in later years as a Hollywood hostess who had popular “twelfth night” parties, gayest of all Shakespeare plays to have a party about.

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Anne:

The prettiest murderer in that film. Just so beautifully evil as Nefertari.

Her Nefertiri in The Ten Commandments was FORMATIVE TO ME. If not the hottest old movie lady, then she definitely played the hottest old movie character. if that makes sense.

Edana:

#edana romney #anne baxter #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 1

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megamindsecretlair · 6 months

Note

Aht aht aht. The vampire Tyrone said that the things he was gonna do to the reader was gonna make the devil jealous. I need details please, if you feel me!!!

A/N: Don't be quoting my fics back at me LOL. I'm gon take this lightly, but let's remember that I am not a smut machine. LOL

A Seduction at Midnight Chapter 3

Pairing: Vampire!Tyrone x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FILTH. Use of n-word. Reader is tied up with cuffs, fingering (fem receiving), oral (fem receiving), PIV (unprotected), cursing, AU Tyrone, Toxic Tyrone. Dark fic. Dirty talk. One mention of spanking. Possession kink, pet names. Mentions of stalking and manipulation. blood, over stimulation, Mean-ish reader.

Summary: A chance meeting at a club introduced you to the enigmatic Tyrone. He was interesting in ways that you weren't expecting. After inviting you to a exclusive party at his place, Tyrone promises a night of pure carnal delights.

Word Count: 4,172k

Midnight Sin Masterlist

A/N: Okay, let's see what these crazy kids get up to! I guess, this is kind of OC? Is it OC if I invented a tiny backstory? I'm still getting the hang of fic writing. Since this taglist is getting so big, please give me a headcount of who still wants to be tagged for Vamp Tyrone or who only wants normal Tyrone. I don't tag ageless blogs. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! Ageless blogs get blocked.

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland @nerdieforpedro @umber-cinders @longpause-awkwardsmile

Mistakes were made. Your wrists were tied and suspended above you on a chain you did not see when you first walked in. You knelt on the bed in a growing puddle of your own arousal, knees spread wide. You felt how wet you were. It leaked out of you, trailing down your thighs.

You shook nearly in time with the grandfather clock. Each new chime was another hour passed while Tyrone played with you. Perhaps, you didn’t really know what you were signing up for.

Tears sprung from your eyes. You sniffled. It was too much sensation, too many nerves, too much pleasure. He had not stopped after your previous orgasms for the audience. No, he kept going. Pushing you past your limits.

“Still with me?” You turned to the sound of his voice but couldn’t see him. He had taken off your mask ages ago and replaced it with a blindfold. It was snug against your face, damp with your tears.

“Yes,” you whispered.

Tyrone trailed a feather against your skin and it was like he set you on fire. You hissed and jerked away from him, crying. The chain clinked loudly in your ear.

“Aw, don’t try to get away,” Tyrone said and chuckled. He leaned in and kissed your cheek. Even that shit was sensitive.

“P-please,” you whispered.

“Please what? Say it where I can hear you,” he said.

You leaned your head against your raised arms. They were starting to hurt, but the last time you asked him to lower the chain, he fingered you until you came two more times. You couldn’t possibly have another one to give.

The feather tickled your neck and you twisted, falling forward a bit. Tyrone caught you and righted you. But his grip was too much. You cried out and Tyrone shushed you.

“Shh, shh, where we at baby?” He asked.

“Y-yellow,” you said, cursing yourself. You should just end this. But you did not want this evening to end. For once, your brain shut off and Tyrone handled everything. The sounds he elicited from you were sinful. You didn’t know you could beg and scream and cry as often as you did tonight.

“Are you sure? You’re so messy,” he said slowly. His fingers grazed your pussy and you desperately clenched, needing to be filled. You moaned moving your hips forward, yearning for him to end your torment.

“Hmm, you’re so wet,” he purred in your ear. “I bet I would have to fight to stay inside, huh?” Tyrone licked your neck.

“No, no,” you said. If he’d just give you the dick, you would lock your legs around him and never let go. You licked your lips, still feeling a bit rubbed raw after the last time you sucked his dick.

Tyrone kissed down your neck, around your shoulders, towards your chest. He palmed your breasts, rubbing them slowly and running his thumbs across your nipples. Your whole body shivered.

You still felt his hands everywhere. Your body tingled from everything he had done to you tonight. Like phantom hands still massaged you, molded you, broke you in half like a pretzel.

His mouth replaced his thumb. He latched his mouth to your left nipple, swirling his tongue around it.

“S-shit,” you sniffled. You didn’t have enough air in your lungs to yell. He dipped his fingers into your pussy, pumping two long fingers in and out of you.

“Got another one for me?” He asked. His breath fanned across your wet nipple and you moaned.

“N-no,” you moaned. Hell, this couldn’t be real. You didn’t want to wake up if it wasn’t. He was ruining you for any other man. What human could compete with this level of stamina? Tyrone had sounded calm and collected all night. Except for when he was fucking your mouth. He never sounded more gorgeous than the few little “fucks” that kept escaping him.

He flicked his tongue lazily against your nipple. Once he got it into a tight nub, he moved on to the right nipple. He paid just as much attention to that one as he still pumped his fingers.

It was as if with every plunge, he was calling your orgasm to the surface. Dragging it from the depths of hell itself to make you cum. “Oh fuck, p-please,” you cried.

“C’mon and give it to me. I knew you had another one for me. With yo sexy ass. You’ve done so good for me tonight,” he whispered against your nipple. You cried out, nothing but the wisps of air you managed to keep escaping you.

Pleasure wrapped around you and held on for dear life. You shook and jerked. Feeling squeezed tight and not tight enough. Tiny earthquakes were set off inside of you, each with its own aftershock of pleasure. Tears trailed down your cheeks.

Tyrone lifted his head from your chest. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. He took his fingers out of your pussy and spread your arousal around your lips. He shoved his fingers in, making you taste yourself again. He licked your tears away, from both cheeks, humming in pleasure.

“You’re gonna have to tell me when to stop. I can’t get enough of you,” he said. He kissed your cheek. He held his lips there in a sustained kiss and breathed you in. You knew he didn’t have to breathe, not really. He did it anyway, committing you to memory. The thought made your pussy throb.

“I n-need…” You tried, but you couldn’t voice your thoughts. It had been too long since he entered you. Since he gave you what you wanted. What you truly wanted. You were trying to hold out but he was being incredibly stubborn about it.

Couldn’t vamps read minds? Weren’t they supposed to get super special powers to roll your mind, make you do things, or work some type of magic? You slunk down, wrenching your shoulders back too far, but you were close to passing out.

“Tell me what you need,” Tyrone said. His voice was clear, deep, and intentionally seductive. He knew fuck well what he was doing. You supposed after centuries of sex, he should know what he was doing. But you were a mere mortal. He had to have some kind of mercy.

“Please, fuck me,” you begged.

Tyrone chuckled and cupped your face. He kissed you. His tongue rolled against yours and you moaned, sitting up straighter. Your thighs were starting to burn from this position. The metal clanked overhead. The grandfather clock tick, tick, ticked. You’d never be able to look at another clock the same way again. The mu’fucka ruined clocks for you too.

He slotted his lips against yours, languid as a fat cat on a summer’s day. He explored your mouth as if he were kissing you for the first time. His soft lips were their own sweet torture.

“Hm, I need to taste you first. You made such a mess, I need to clean it up,” he said. You cried as he moved into position on his back. He pulled you closer, making you crawl on your knees. The chain rattled as it moved on the track, allowing you to push forward and sit on his face. You tried to stay on your knees, but he grabbed you by the thighs and pulled until you were seated.

He reminded you that he didn’t need to breathe as his tongue darted out to lick your pussy. You reared up but he pulled you back down. Your ass pushed against the heels of your feet.

His grip turned bruising as he crushed you to his face and ate you out again, moaning at the taste of you.

“So good,” you think he said. He sounded muffled. You bit your lip as your hips started to move of their own accord. Grinding down on his face. Oh, oh, yeah that felt so good. You moved your hips faster.

Tyrone stuck his tongue out and let you fuck yourself on it. You moaned as you rode him, taking your pleasure from him as if he were nothing but a toy. Nothing but a vibrator you were pleasuring yourself with. Your fingers tangled with the chains as you gripped them and rode his face harder. Fresh arousal leaked out of you, surely drowning him.

“Right there, right there, rightthererightthererightthere,” you cried, your voice tinny.

You were caught between wanting to go faster and pushing him off altogether. You could not survive another orgasm. And yet, you were grinding on him anyway. Your pussy clenched and throbbed as your orgasm built, tightening your belly. At its peak, it erupted.

You cried out as it swept through you. A volcano of pleasure that kept going and going, taking you to another plane of existence.

You slumped against his face as he licked up everything you gushed out. You spasmed. The smell of sex was so thick in the air, you could probably cut it with a knife. “Such a good little girl,” he said against your thighs. He moved you easily as if you were as light as the feather he used earlier.

The praise made your spirit soar, even as your body was too tired. He got to his knees behind you. A moment later, the chains were starting to lower and you whimpered in relief. He kissed your neck and back and started to massage your shoulders. He whispered nasty things in your ear as his hands rubbed the dull, burning ache.

“Better?” He asked.

“Unhuh,” you sighed.

“Where we at baby?” He asked.

You thought about it. If he teased you one more time, that was it, you were throwing in the towel. Stubbornly, you rallied the last remaining strength you had. “Yellow,” you said through clenched teeth.

“Stubborn little thing, ain’t you?” He asked.

“I was promised a night I’ll remember,” you said.

He chuckled and licked the shell of your ear. “Not enough for you? Complaining about my performance?” He asked.

“If I need to find someone else, let me know,” you said.

The sharp smack to your ass was unexpected and you gasped from the sheer force. The sting built in intensity until your ass was on fire.

“You can joke about a lot of things. That shit ain’t one of ‘em. Understand?” He asked.

Your head bobbled.

“Use your words,” he said.

“Yes, I’m sorry,” you squeaked.

Since your arms were now lowered, he pushed you forward. You leaned on your elbows and brought your ass up. You weren’t moving fast enough. Tyrone grabbed your hips and pulled you backwards.

He slammed inside of you. You were so wet that he slid in easily. You cried out as he fucked you with something to prove. Okay, you hit a fucking nerve.

Your wrists were still tied. You held them in front of you, to keep the chain from knocking into your face. He fucked into you with reckless abandon. His fingers dug into your hips, slamming you back on his dick.

You moaned and cried and whimpered as he finally gave you what you wanted. He filled you up. His thick dick was perfect, digging into your guts exactly in the way you needed.

“No one else gets to touch you,” he growled.

“Yes, Sir,” you said.

“No one,” he said. “No one.” It became a chant. Every thrust pushed you forward. Your ass slapped against his thighs. His balls tapped your clit.

Your nails scraped against the bedsheet as he rutted inside of you. He was animalistic. Grunting and groaning. In between chanting, he’d pepper in curses. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, squeeze that shit,” he moaned.

You pushed back against him, and he increased his thrusts. His moans turned you on. Hearing that deep voice moaning activated a different side of to you. You threw it back on him. He growled as he slammed back. Gasps and yips escaped you. You couldn’t take a full breath. He fucked the orgasm out of you, wringing a loud, keening yowl from you.

Your body jerked and twisted as your orgasm steamrolled you. Reality shifted and changed. You peeked into the fifth dimension, feeling at once above your body and in it. You pictured how you looked. Suppliant, on your knees, getting dicked down in the most primal way possible.

“Oh fuck, baby. So good,” you moaned.

As you floated back down, Tyrone roared and released a fat load inside of you. The hot spurts filled you up. He shuddered as he pushed forward to the hilt, moaning deep and low in his throat.

“So beautiful. So good,” he whispered. He leaned forward and kissed the base of your spine. You tensed, ready for his fangs to sink in. He rubbed one side against your ass and chuckled. “No more bites tonight, love,” he promised.

You pouted and whined. He placed another kiss there and slipped out of you when he softened. He untied the blindfold.

The sudden light seared your eyes and you blinked through new tears. You looked towards him, eyes blurry, and found him looking down at you with so much emotion. Such pride. Such admiration. You smiled lazily at him and yawned. You still shook from little tremors after that last orgasm.

He took the cuffs off of you, rubbing and massaging circulation back into your wrists. Warmth spread through your body as you stretched out, laying down fully on the bed. Sleep tugged heavily at you. You wanted to stay up and talk to him, but he kissed your forehead and told you to sleep. So sleep you did.

Tyrone

You were going to be the true death of him. You looked ruined. Your perfect body was curled on the bed, ass in the air and scrumptious enough to bite into. He almost did earlier, but it was your first time giving blood. He didn’t want to suck you dry.

Fuck, his dick twitched thinking of how good you tasted, in all aspects. Your blood was ambrosia. Straight from the heavens itself. It took every, single ounce of willpower to keep from killing you. And you poor thing. You had no clue.

He should feel horrible about it. You were so full of life. Interesting and unique. He loved listening to you talk and learning how your mind worked. He would hate it if you were snuffed from this life.

But you had no clue how fucking delicious your blood was. And then when he tasted that sweet honey between your thighs, it was enough to drive him insane with lust. Tyrone could not remember the last person who drove him so crazy. He’d had his share of lovers over the centuries. When his loneliness was so loud, he’d do anything to steal the warmth from his partner. He’d agree to anything, kill anybody, if it meant that someone would wrap their hands around him in love rather than fear.

He looked at you, staring at your rolls and curves. He could keep going. You made him want to keep going. He wanted to mesh your bodies together and never leave your embrace. He wanted to twist you any which way he could.

He needed a walk. Usually, he would kick out whoever he got done fucking. But you were different. He wanted to mold his body to yours and snuggle in close. But if he snuggled up with you right now, you wouldn’t ever be free to walk this earth again. This…possessiveness was starting to worry him. Slick Charles said as much as Tyrone spent nearly every night watching you in your house.

He left the room, towards the en suite bathroom and warmed up a washcloth for you. He cleaned you up, gentle, but you were deeply asleep. He heard the thump of your heart as you slept. You made little whimpering noises.

He was jealous of your dreams. For a while, you were lost to him. He wanted more of it. More of you. You were so cute and trusting, sleeping next to a monster. So, he threw on his briefs and left the room altogether. He needed to be away, where your scent wasn’t wreaking havoc on his senses.

Outside the room, the carnal sounds of fucking slammed into him. The smell of sex was potent. He walked down the hall where some people were fucking against the wall. He passed by people in various states of dress, masks on, dicks and pussies out. Some women were getting fucked, some men were getting pegged.

When he was younger, all of this still would’ve excited him. He still enjoyed watching sex, but his dick only stirred for you. He gritted his teeth as he passed through to one of the playrooms.

Four people were intertwined in a complicated dance on the large bed. Tyrone stopped for a moment, watching the foursome as everyone was getting off on someone else. Sex was fascinating to him. The way people contorted themselves into shapes just to get off. To reach that ultimate goal. Tyrone watched their faces. He watched how even though they selfishly sought their own pleasure, they were just as focused on their partner. On giving and taking.

Tyrone moved on, passing by the playrooms and ensuring that everyone minded the rules. At the end of the hall, a lone figure leaned against the wall. The figure was fully dressed in slacks and a shirt one size too big.

“Who are you?” Tyrone asked. He stopped walking forward. The figure was half in shadow. The figure turned his head, head dipping into one of the hall lights.

“Don’t you recognize your big brother?”

Tyrone sighed and rubbed his head. “The fuck are you doing here, Fontaine?”

Fontaine chuckled, his gold grills glinting in the light. Moans crescendoed all around but Tyrone tuned it out. Like turning down the sound on a stereo, the moans faded to the background.

Rage replaced his earlier calm at seeing Fontaine. Smug mu’fucka. Fontaine removed himself from the wall, stalking towards Tyrone. He put his hands in his pockets and looked Tyrone up and down.

“Shit, Tyrone. You finally fuck that stick out ya ass?” Fontaine chuckled. “Who is she? She still around?” Fontaine looked behind Tyrone as if the person would be coming up behind them. Tyrone clenched his fists but kept a mask of amused indifference.

“What are you doing here, ‘Taine?”

Fontaine’s smile slipped. He shrugged. “Can’t just be because I miss you?”

Tyrone reared back as if Fontaine had slapped him. It was uncanny, looking into the eyes of someone that fuckin’ looked like you. There was a disconnect between the mirror and this mirror-version of Tyrone. It was him but it wasn’t him.

“Fuck no. What do you want?” On the inside, Tyrone was worried. He still didn’t know what you were or why your blood smelled so divine. It was a big risk bringing you here tonight, knowing that your blood might draw the others. But nothing happened when that first drop touched air…still, he wasn’t going to gamble that Fontaine’s keen sense of smell would find you.

Tyrone barely held it together around you. Fontaine was a ripper, who enjoyed his food in all manners of ways. It would be nothing to snap your neck and drain you dry.

Fontaine laughed and nodded. “I got some business here,” he said.

“What business?” Tyrone asked.

“Mines, nigga,” Fontaine said. He laughed as he pushed past Tyrone, looking in and out of the playrooms. He stopped at one door and leaned on it, watching the couple as the man was getting spanked.

“Father banished you–”

“Father’s the one that called me back here,” Fontaine interrupted. He turned towards Tyrone and lifted an eyebrow. “Old man didn’t tell you?”

“Nigga don’t say shit but bark mu’fuckin’ orders.” Tyrone walked away from the playrooms. He went upstairs, heading towards his office. Here, the place felt slightly more like him. This wasn’t his main residence. He didn’t want to sleep in the same house that his people did depraved things.

Fontaine’s steps were quiet, but with his hearing, he knew Fontaine trailed behind him. The halls were painted light gray, soft wood underneath, and random sculptures and pieces of art along the end tables or on the walls. Paintings of himself were spread along the walls. He hated the idea. But Slick Charles told him that he needed to add some showmanship for the parties. Whatever.

He turned on the light to his office and walked inside. Fontaine slipped in behind him and closed the door. Tyrone flopped into his chair and rolled his neck. He just wanted to spend the night in between your legs. He knew the night was going too perfect.

His office was like his others, painted in his favorite color, gray, with complimentary furniture. He had a few personal items there like his watch or keys, or sunglasses. Fontaine flopped into the chair opposite the large desk. He sneered at the decorative plants and art.

“Corny ass mu’fucka,” Fontaine whispered.

“Why are you really here?”

Fontaine shrugged. “Pops gettin’ paranoid or some shit. Or he want something. I’ve been getting word that he’s been lookin’ into my business overseas. I’m just here to see why he broke the agreement,” Fontaine explained.

“Lookin’ into it how?” Tyrone asked.

Fontaine shrugged again. His gaze moved around the room. Tyrone watched him, looking at all the ways he changed in the hundred or so years since he last saw him.

Fontaine had a scruffy beard now, with kinked hair sticking up every which way. The grill was obviously new. The canines were elongated, perfectly hiding his real fangs. It was clever. He could move around more freely, not afraid to laugh or speak.

“Ion know yet. All I know is that he broke his side, so the terms is null. I’m taking myself off punishment, baby brother,” he said.

Tyrone chuckled. “That’s not the way that shit work,” he said.

“Does now. Look. I came here as a muthafuckin’ courtesy. No disrespect shit. I’m not going to make noise. I just want to see what Pops knows and then I’ll be gone,” Fontaine said.

Tyrone looked at him over the desk. There was so much history there. History of running around together, chasing girls in skirts, and fuckin’ them ‘till the morning came. Of all the arguments and yelling at each other. Fontaine moving to Europe was the best decision ever. They needed that continent in between them.

“How long?”

“Ion know,” Fontaine said.

“Not good enough,” Tyrone said.

“Make it good enough.”

Tyrone sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Dammit, ‘Taine. Don’t start that shit,” he said.

Fontaine suddenly sniffed and Tyrone whipped his head towards him. Fontaine’s head was tilted chasing the scent. Could he smell you on Tyrone?

“How long do you need?” Tyrone asked, trying to distract Fontaine. But Fontaine only took another deep breath.

“Damn, that almost smells like…Versailles,” he said.

The name triggered a distant memory, of remembering when Tyrone and Fontaine had walked the halls of the famous palace, had walked by a proper lady, and she had smelled so good, it made Tyrone and Fontaine whirl around.

Fontaine chuckled. “Must be all this pussy in the air. Anyway, I’m fo’ real. I just want to know how much he knows. I’ll be gone before you know it.”

Tyrone nodded. “Fine. Don’t start anything while you here. Get in, get out,” Tyrone said.

Fontaine smirked and shook his head. “Shit, baby brother. You really got something here,” Fontaine said.

“You don’t have to keep up the good older brother routine. I already said you could stay,” Tyrone said.

Fontaine laughed. “Man, whoever you fucked, go fuck ‘em again. Loosen up. All that frowning gon’ make you old,” Fontaine chuckled on his way out of the office.

Tyrone watched him go. He strained his hearing for Fontaine’s soft steps and followed the sound of his shoes out of the house. He hadn’t smelled you. Good. Tyrone left his office and headed back to you.

He couldn’t risk Fontaine knowing about you. He didn’t know what his brother would do around you. Especially if he was thinking of Versailles. Whatever that was supposed to mean. The centuries tended to blur after being alive so long. It was just fleeting from one activity to the next.

He’d have to look into it later. For now, he wanted to forget that Fontaine was here. He wanted to forget that there were others in the house. He wanted to wrap himself in your warmth and addicting scent and sleep the morning away.

You were still fast asleep. Tyrone lowered the lights and climbed into bed. He snuggled you from behind. You let out a soft sound. He wrapped his hand around your tummy and felt the approaching morning like a heavy blanket. He slipped off to sleep with your intoxicating scent tickling his nose.

&&&

Masterlist | Chapter 3

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