#at any rate. THERE ARE INDEED FICS. IT'S LIKE THAT. >:))) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lisafication · 11 months

Text

For those who might happen across this, I'm an administrator for the forum 'Sufficient Velocity', a large old-school forum oriented around Creative Writing. I originally posted this on there (and any reference to 'here' will mean the forum), but I felt I might as well throw it up here, as well, even if I don't actually have any followers.

This week, I've been reading fanfiction on Archive of Our Own (AO3), a site run by the Organisation for Transformative Works (OTW), a non-profit. This isn't particularly exceptional, in and of itself — like many others on the site, I read a lot of fanfiction, both on Sufficient Velocity (SV) and elsewhere — however what was bizarre to me was encountering a new prefix on certain works, that of 'End OTW Racism'. While I'm sure a number of people were already familiar with this, I was not, so I looked into it.

What I found... wasn't great. And I don't think anyone involved realises that.

To summarise the details, the #EndOTWRacism campaign, of which you may find their manifesto here, is a campaign oriented towards seeing hateful or discriminatory works removed from AO3 — and believe me, there is a lot of it. To whit, they want the OTW to moderate them. A laudable goal, on the face of it — certainly, we do something similar on Sufficient Velocity with Rule 2 and, to be clear, nothing I say here is a critique of Rule 2 (or, indeed, Rule 6) on SV.

But it's not that simple, not when you're the size of Archive of Our Own. So, let's talk about the vagaries and little-known pitfalls of content moderation, particularly as it applies to digital fiction and at scale. Let's dig into some of the details — as far as credentials go, I have, unfortunately, been in moderation and/or administration on SV for about six years and this is something we have to grapple with regularly, so I would like to say I can speak with some degree of expertise on the subject.

So, what are the problems with moderating bad works from a site? Let's start with discovery— that is to say, how you find rule-breaching works in the first place. There are more-or-less two different ways to approach manual content moderation of open submissions on a digital platform: review-based and report-based (you could also call them curation-based and flag-based), with various combinations of the two. Automated content moderation isn't something I'm going to cover here — I feel I can safely assume I'm preaching to the choir when I say it's a bad idea, and if I'm not, I'll just note that the least absurd outcome we had when simulating AI moderation (mostly for the sake of an academic exercise) on SV was banning all the staff.

In a review-based system, you check someone's work and approve it to the site upon verifying that it doesn't breach your content rules. Generally pretty simple, we used to do something like it on request. Unfortunately, if you do that, it can void your safe harbour protections in the US per Myeress vs. Buzzfeed Inc. This case, if you weren't aware, is why we stopped offering content review on SV. Suffice to say, it's not really a realistic option for anyone large enough for the courts to notice, and extremely clunky and unpleasant for the users, to boot.

Report-based systems, on the other hand, are something we use today — users find works they think are in breach and alert the moderation team to their presence with a report. On SV, this works pretty well — a user or users flag a work as potentially troublesome, moderation investigate it and either action it or reject the report. Unfortunately, AO3 is not SV. I'll get into the details of that dreadful beast known as scaling later, but thankfully we do have a much better comparison point — fanfiction.net (FFN).

FFN has had two great purges over the years, with a... mixed amount of content moderation applied in between: one in 2002 when the NC-17 rating was removed, and one in 2012. Both, ostensibly, were targeted at adult content. In practice, many fics that wouldn't raise an eye on Spacebattles today or Sufficient Velocity prior to 2018 were also removed; a number of reports suggest that something as simple as having a swearword in your title or summary was enough to get you hit, even if you were a 'T' rated work. Most disturbingly of all, there are a number of — impossible to substantiate — accounts of groups such as the infamous Critics United 'mass reporting' works to trigger a strike to get them removed. I would suggest reading further on places like Fanlore if you are unfamiliar and want to know more.

Despite its flaws however, report-based moderation is more-or-less the only option, and this segues neatly into the next piece of the puzzle that is content moderation, that is to say, the rubric. How do you decide what is, and what isn't against the rules of your site?

Anyone who's complained to the staff about how vague the rules are on SV may have had this explained to them, but as that is likely not many of you, I'll summarise: the more precise and clear-cut your chosen rubric is, the more it will inevitably need to resemble a legal document — and the less readable it is to the layman. We'll return to SV for an example here: many newer users will not be aware of this, but SV used to have a much more 'line by line, clearly delineated' set of rules and... people kind of hated it! An infraction would reference 'Community Compact III.15.5' rather than Rule 3, because it was more or less written in the same manner as the Terms of Service (sans the legal terms of art). While it was a more legible rubric from a certain perspective, from the perspective of communicating expectations to the users it was inferior to our current set of rules — even less of them read it, and we don't have great uptake right now.

And it still wasn't really an improvement over our current set-up when it comes to 'moderation consistency'. Even without getting into the nuts and bolts of "how do you define a racist work in a way that does not, at any point, say words to the effect of 'I know it when I see it'" — which is itself very, very difficult don't get me wrong I'm not dismissing this — you are stuck with finding an appropriate footing between a spectrum of 'the US penal code' and 'don't be a dick' as your rubric. Going for the penal code side doesn't help nearly as much as you might expect with moderation consistency, either — no matter what, you will never have a 100% correct call rate. You have the impossible task of writing a rubric that is easy for users to comprehend, extremely clear for moderation and capable of cleanly defining what is and what isn't racist without relying on moderator judgement, something which you cannot trust when operating at scale.

Speaking of scale, it's time to move on to the third prong — and the last covered in this ramble, which is more of a brief overview than anything truly in-depth — which is resources. Moderation is not a magic wand, you can't conjure it out of nowhere: you need to spend an enormous amount of time, effort and money on building, training and equipping a moderation staff, even a volunteer one, and it is far, far from an instant process. Our most recent tranche of moderators spent several months in training and it will likely be some months more before they're fully comfortable in the role — and that's with a relatively robust bureaucracy and a number of highly experienced mentors supporting them, something that is not going to be available to a new moderation branch with little to no experience. Beyond that, there's the matter of sheer numbers.

Combining both moderation and arbitration — because for volunteer staff, pure moderation is in actuality less efficient in my eyes, for a variety of reasons beyond the scope of this post, but we'll treat it as if they're both just 'moderators' — SV presently has 34 dedicated moderation volunteers. SV hosts ~785 million words of creative writing.

AO3 hosts ~32 billion.

These are some very rough and simplified figures, but if you completely ignore all the usual problems of scaling manpower in a business (or pseudo-business), such as (but not limited to) geometrically increasing bureaucratic complexity and administrative burden, along with all the particular issues of volunteer moderation... AO3 would still need well over one thousand volunteer moderators to be able to match SV's moderator-to-creative-wordcount ratio.

Paid moderation, of course, you can get away with less — my estimate is that you could fully moderate SV with, at best, ~8 full-time moderators, still ignoring administrative burden above the level of team leader. This leaves AO3 only needing a much more modest ~350 moderators. At the US minimum wage of ~$15k p.a. — which is, in my eyes, deeply unethical to pay moderators as full-time moderation is an intensely gruelling role with extremely high rates of PTSD and other stress-related conditions — that is approximately ~$5.25m p.a. costs on moderator wages. Their average annual budget is a bit over $500k.

So, that's obviously not on the table, and we return to volunteer staffing. Which... let's examine that scenario and the questions it leaves us with, as our conclusion.

Let's say, through some miracle, AO3 succeeds in finding those hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of volunteer moderators. We'll even say none of them are malicious actors or sufficiently incompetent as to be indistinguishable, and that they manage to replicate something on the level of or superior to our moderation tooling near-instantly at no cost. We still have several questions to be answered:

How are you maintaining consistency? Have you managed to define racism to the point that moderator judgment no longer enters the equation? And to be clear, you cannot allow moderator judgment to be a significant decision maker at this scale, or you will end with absurd results.

How are you handling staff mental health? Some reading on the matter, to save me a lengthy and unrelated explanation of some of the steps involved in ensuring mental health for commercial-scale content moderators.

How are you handling your failures? No moderation in the world has ever succeeded in a 100% accuracy rate, what are you doing about that?

Using report-based discovery, how are you preventing 'report brigading', such as the theories surrounding Critics United mentioned above? It is a natural human response to take into account the amount and severity of feedback. While SV moderators are well trained on the matter, the rare times something is receiving enough reports to potentially be classified as a 'brigade' on that scale will nearly always be escalated to administration, something completely infeasible at (you're learning to hate this word, I'm sure) scale.

How are you communicating expectations to your user base? If you're relying on a flag-based system, your users' understanding of the rules is a critical facet of your moderation system — how have you managed to make them legible to a layman while still managing to somehow 'truly' define racism?

How are you managing over one thousand moderators? Like even beyond all the concerns with consistency, how are you keeping track of that many moving parts as a volunteer organisation without dozens or even hundreds of professional managers? I've ignored the scaling administrative burden up until now, but it has to be addressed in reality.

What are you doing to sweep through your archives? SV is more-or-less on-top of 'old' works as far as rule-breaking goes, with the occasional forgotten tidbit popping up every 18 months or so — and that's what we're extrapolating from. These thousand-plus moderators are mostly going to be addressing current or near-current content, are you going to spin up that many again to comb through the 32 billion words already posted?

I could go on for a fair bit here, but this has already stretched out to over two thousand words.

I think the people behind this movement have their hearts in the right place and the sentiment is laudable, but in practice it is simply 'won't someone think of the children' in a funny hat. It cannot be done.

Even if you could somehow meet the bare minimum thresholds, you are simply not going to manage a ruleset of sufficient clarity so as to prevent a much-worse repeat of the 2012 FF.net massacre, you are not going to be able to manage a moderation staff of that size and you are not going to be able to ensure a coherent understanding among all your users (we haven't managed that after nearly ten years and a much smaller and more engaged userbase). There's a serious number of other issues I haven't covered here as well, as this really is just an attempt at giving some insight into the sheer number of moving parts behind content moderation: the movement wants off-site content to be policed which isn't so much its own barrel of fish as it is its own barrel of Cthulhu; AO3 is far from English-only and would in actuality need moderators for almost every language it supports — and most damning of all, if Section 230 is wiped out by the Supreme Court it is not unlikely that engaging in content moderation at all could simply see AO3 shut down.

As sucky as it seems, the current status quo really is the best situation possible. Sorry about that.

#archive of our own #endotwracism #end otw racism #content moderation #sufficient velocity #i hate how much i know about this topic

3K notes · View notes

simp4konig · 8 months

Text

Self-aware König X Gender-neutral Reader

Word count: ~2800

König slowly comes to the realisation that he was in a game, that he was never real, and that he'll never be with reader.

His sense of self deteriorates as all he wishes for is to escape from the boundaries of his code and be real.

In this instance, ignorance really *was* bliss.

*Slow burn

*König has a mental breakdown at one point lmao

Edit on same day: HOLY SHIT thank u for so many notes!!!!!!!!!!! 🥹🥹💞💞💞💞💞 You guys are so nice 🫣🫣

*Self-aware AU belongs to @puff0o0 !!!🥳🥳 (The girl behind the disguise🥸... Was rthis loser all along!!!!! 😈😈imagine giving permission to 👍THIS 👍idiot to write Ur fic idea lol u made a mistake 💀💀💀ok but idid my best not to ruin their awesome au with this pathetic controbution and jope I honoured it well 😭😭 but fr i had been stalking their profile since the begigning of their self aware! au and ivloved their acc 🥺🥺I love their imagines and how they fulfill the request yet leave enoith for imaginstion !! (which, don't mind if I do🤠all of the König scenarios added tovmy incessant daydreamimg hhhhhhhhh oh no),, and when they followed me I was staring at my phone with the BIGGEST goofy grin on my face 🥹🥹Thank YOU sm!!!!! 🫂MUCH LOVE!!!!!!!!!!💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

*To anyone waiting (I've gotten such lovely messages from people saying they liked my first fic (which made me so happy as it was the first ever fanfiction I published online🥹🥹)), Part TWO of my first fic is on its way !!!,, I didn't want to make u guys all fluffy 🥰🩷💘✨🤗 inside only to tear your hearts 💔🥀🗡️🗡️😭 in two witj this 😿 dw I promise to reward u guys with another fic and cute himbo (and absolute menace while on the battlefield ��)König <33, with King X König having more wholesome interactions in the near future!!

If you had told König that he wasn't real, he would have looked at you blankly and said nothing, passing off your suggestion as a joke of sorts that he possibly couldn't understand.

Perhaps if he was ever faced with a situation like this he'd question you about it, but nothing more, and drop the subject at hand.

Honestly, the likelihood of him ever thinking over this twice would have been slim, as he would not pay your philosophy much thought shortly afterwards.

In fact, he believed that his life as a Kortac operator was indeed a real one, and he wore his embroided Austrian flag on his shoulder with something next to pride, always praised for his outstanding efforts by his superiors in the same tone of voice. To König, however, it meant nothing, and he'd only nod his head in an attempt at gratitude, turning his back to the commemoration in indifference.

Despite not remembering anything of his childhood, his upbringing — hell, even any of his past prior to becoming a soldier — König didn't ever think over it too deeply. The overwhelming pressure to make sure missions went without a hitch and constant deployments to foreign countries left no time to reminisce, especially not when his work was so demanding, and it only made sense to him that they were the reason for his forgotten memories.

Besides, even if he had time to spare and be inactive, he had to stay focused, as being an operator meant that he couldn't let any nostalgia or softness distract him from his tasks.

On the battlefield, König worked on autopilot, performing finishing kills with efficiency and with machine-like precision. Reacting quickly to enemies ambushing him from behind or an enemy that was laying on the floor behind the corner waiting to shoot him in the head, he'd eliminate the targets with bullets to spare. Really, he was unstoppable, and he was on a killing streak.

Until he was shot in the head one day.

The moment it happened, the shot was like an explosion that almost obliterated his eardrums, outside noise deafened like his head was underwater. All he could hear was the high-pitched ringing, and it held an uncanny resemblance to the beeping of a heart rate monitor machine that he would never lay next to, dying instead on a bed of cold rubble and broken shrapnel.

Somehow conscious enough to look around, his mind was completely empty, eyes attempting to adjust. What he'd assumed would happen in a time like this was his mind flashing with memories like a movie reel in his last moments, his entire life playing out in his final dying seconds.

Yet he remembered nothing. No Mama, no Papa, no childhood or any his life trials, nothing that had changed him and moulded his character, not even his motive for enlisting into the military in the first place.

The part that was most unnerving about all this was his complete apathy to it all.

Did he even care that he was dying? Shouldn't he at least feel regret at having essentially been the one to pull the trigger, cutting his own life short with the lifestyle he had committed himself to? Why wasn't he scared, sad, even bewildered at the very least, shocked that his life would soon end so unceremoniously? Fuck, not even mild disappointment at least at not even had travelled the world, and failing to ever explore any place besides abandoned buildings housing hostages and terrorist bases swarming with foes? Nothing at all?

Unable to process his situation, König just... laid there, unmoving, while his surroundings moved in double speed. Nondescript figures holding rifles wearing camo and balaclavas blurred in his vision, and he couldn't differentiate the enemy from his own.

Slowly losing consciousness, he felt his world darken around him, dulling his senses to the mayhem unfolding in real time. He'd accepted his fate, and could do nothing about it. That was that. And this was it.

It was a shock to his system when a silhouetted hand pulled him up by the arm limp by his side and shouted in his face, "Get up, soldier! This is no place to die!"

König didn't need to be told twice. He nodded his head robotically, his eyes looking ahead of him with a thousand-yard stare, and not even sparing a glance to the anonymous ally that saved him, he picked up the his gun off the floor and loaded another magazine into it with a satisfying click.

In his delirium, he worked on autopilot after that, shooting at anything that shot at him first. Too much in a daze, he was past the point of realising that the gaping bullet wound had suddenly sealed itself, vanishing entirely and leaving no mark that it was ever there.

After that, König didn't realise that he wasn't real when any injuries still didn't affect him. He assumed that his insensitivity to wounds was a result of a high pain tolerance, and his body healing miraculously was his ability to regenerate fast.

Although he would lay on the ground, his arm outstretched while through gritted teeth shouting: "Scheisse! Ich brauche hier Hilfe! I need some help over here!"; truth be told, he'd only do so when he after getting used to seeing so many bodies writhe in pain like so, and something for some reason told him that it was the right thing to do.

Waking up moments after not far from the spot he supposedly died in a daze, all bullet wounds gone, he didn't have time in the moment to think over the specifics of his death. Maybe he was hallucinating, or remembering things incorrectly.

König began to suspect that something was wrong when he'd hear his operators say the same sentence word for word. He rationalised that the constant shooting that never ceased even late into the night and dangerous missions that left him with far too many close calls put pressure on his mind. This mania amongst soldiers in the military was a common phenomenon after all, so it shouldn't have been as much of a surprise for König when he felt waves of déjà vu at hearing statements he could have sworn were related to him before at one point, and going to infiltrate areas that were vaguely familiar.

At some point, he thought something was REALLY wrong when he was storming a military base with... a sniper rifle.

Time stood still as he inspected the weapon in his hands, eyes wide.

That... was impossible. He had never been a sniper. True, he had wanted to be one from the beginning, yet he had adapted to his role as the main means of assault, always on the offensive rather on the defensive. So then... Why?

Adding to that, his appearance would differ. They were subtle changes at first, yet still noticeable: a red helmet instead of his black; an ochre hood instead of his black veil with its signature red streaks; a sniper camoflauge when that disguise had never been in his possession before; and even a gas mask with a hazmat suit when he had been wearing something else altogether on the helicopter heading towards its destination.

Although König hadn't know it yet, his reality was slowly shattering along the cracks, but he stubbornly fought the gnawing feeling that ate him up from the inside. He had to stay focused, he repeated to himself. No time to ponder when a task was at hand.

"All units ready your weapons, and in position immediately." Through his walkie-talkie, a voice began counting down the time left before the mission would begin. "60 seconds."

König checked all of his gear, making sure that everything was in place and he was fully equipped. A rifle, a side-arm, ammo, grenades, a med kit for an emergency and a knife. "40 seconds."

Looking up into the sky and straight into the sun, he didn't need to cover his sight as his eyes weren't affected by it at all. Yet, his eyes squinted in confusion, sensing that he was seeing something that he wasn't meant to see behind the glowing eye. "20 seconds."

He saw more than an eye. An ear, a nose, then a mouth. A face.

He saw you.

You were looking at him through a screen, holding a controller and waiting to start playing your game.

His reality shattered all at once, and he stumbled on his feet, unable to regain his balance, feeling himself go weak in the knees. He tuned out the all-important seconds through the communication device, unable to compose himself as for the first time ever he struggled to breathe.

Suddenly, all of it made sense.

People telling him the same things and never deviating from the topic of the mission, the reawakenings, the pain insensitivity — all of it was because none of it was never real.

People never branched off into other topics of conversation because their sole existence was limited to a few hand-selected voiceliness and idle animations. With each upgrade and level up, König had gotten praise from from him superiors, which explained how emotionless their announcements always sounded and why they were so constant.

The frequent brushes with death weren't a matter of luck, and instead it was just his entity respawning until a certain condition was met, until either Kortac or Specgru came out victorious — otherwise, he could "die" as many times as it took until the time ran out.

He was unfazed by bullets that grazed him and knives that tore though his flesh as he could physically feel no pain, his very existence artificial, his skin composed of pixels with no human matter hidden beneath them.

And, his inability to trace back to before he was transferred to Kortac was all because it was all he was programmed to know. There was no childhood. There was no Mama or Papa. It was just him in this world, and he had been manufactured, his thoughts and behaviours fabricated.

For a moment, he considered you the creator of his word, his God, and felt forsaken. He wanted to curse you, to snap your neck in his hands and watch your head drop lifelessly in his hold.

Yet it became apparent that you weren't the one behind this realm. Seeing the headphones strapped to your head and the controller held in anticipation in your hands, you were simply indulging in a past time, and weren't to blame for his state in any way. It wasn't your fault that you were unknowingly playing as a König trapped in the game.

You let out a groan of frustration, mashing buttons on your controller in an attempt to get König to move.

"What the fuck is going on?!" You hissed, trying in any way you could to start playing. Checking your router and the game's ping, you saw that your connection was secure, and that there was no reason for König to be frozen in place. "Fucking piece of shit console."

König shook his head, still disbelieving and unable to accept his fictional reality, yet hearing the sound of your voice made everything an even tougher pill to swallow. He had to stay in character. For you; it was the least that he could do.

After the initial lag at the beginning of the match, the game went smoothly and you couldn't find any faults. However, you suddenly noticed that your movements over König improved, moving with more fluidity and suddenly taking less damage than what you would normally use to. Headshot after headshot and kills all of the time poured onto on your screen until you'd find yourself being ganged up by bitter players wanting to ruin your streak as revenge.

Still, you topped the leaderboards with a new personal record that night. 97 kills to 0 deaths flashed on your screen, and you jumped up from your gaming chair, ecstatic, almost knocking it over in the process.

König felt butterflies in his stomach seeing you smile and jump around excitedly, and that's when he had found his purpose.

From that moment on, you became his lifeline. You gave the unfeeling König something to live for, a motive to keep fighting that he hadn't been given when being created in the game — for you and your greater good.

Really, you made him feel things: made him feel alive; made him fight with more passion and determination when your happiness was on the line.

He fell... In love.

The feelings and emotions he felt in his chest chest were genuine, and weren't pre-written in a script or manipulated by a third-party. Even the bullets that would pierce through his gear and leave him on the ground withering in agony was worth it, and he'd exchange his invincibility any day to feel what he felt when he saw your face, and the smile that tugged at your lips when you were revived or got a difficult kill.

His love for you was immortal, and it would persist through generations and could last for a lifetime, and König was almost certain that you could feel all of his energy channelling through your TV.

He found himself lovingly staring at you through the screen, admiring you as if you were an ephemeral being, a beautiful angel, even when your hair was greasy, your old tee had armpit stains and your eyes were bloodshot from how long you had been playing. Really, none of that put König off — if anything, all of those made you so distinctly you, so human.

Yet, König was in love with someone that was practically in another dimension and he would never speak to them, never touch them, never share thoughts and pass the time doing everything and nothing with them. None of that, because he wasn't real.

Had his life improved now they he had grown self-awareness? Had his ignorance really been bliss before his revelation? Perhaps if he had been another NPC that only gained manipulated consciousness whenever the player spawned in the map he wouldn't be so stricken with grief and crouched over in agony, the knuckles on his hands turning white from how fervently he was gripping his mask. He'd hyperventilate off-screen, sometimes the torment being too much.

Being so close to you yet being restricted to his three-dimensional world was bittersweet at the least, and internal suffering at most. His insatiable craving to be with you, and you with him only, fuelled his desperation, and he tried to keep you with him for as long as possible through any means necessary.

When you selected an operator that wasn't König, your game glitched heavily and would even crash whenever you made the mistake of even complimenting their design, and God forbid whenever you tried to play as someone other than him, as your console would near explode.

When you'd boot up a different game on your PlayStation, your loading screen would suddenly transport you back to the one of MW2, König greeting you with a voiceline that he reserved and perfected just for you:

"Welcome back, schatz. I have been waiting for you." Because he treasured you, and you were the only person that he could ever have feelings for.

Perhaps a recent update was fucking up your console, or it was just malfunctiong due to age. Either way, playing on an eight year old PS4 meant it could only run for so long and glitches like this were inevitable, yet you persisted in keeping the console running, not in your budget to afford to upgrade.

You'd search frantically on the internet for any information about the new König voicelines and whether there was any resolution for your problem when playing CoD, something telling you that your game was not functioning in the way that it should.

A thought crossed your mind that König had gone rogue, and you tried to laugh it off. Swallowing thickly, that still didn't relieve the deep pit in your stomach. If anything, the mere idea made it worse for you, and you'd get an intense gut feeling that would make you feel dizzy whenever König would make eyes contact with you and stand there, making you question whether he was acting out of character or not.

His attempts to keep you with him were commendable, yet none of it could change the fact that it would never be anything more than one-sided pining, a deep longing for a person whose world kept spinning while his stopped once you logged off the game, his day ending abruptly and being consumed by darkness.

For now, König had to content himself with being stuck behind a screen. He wished so desperately to be able to touch you, to escape this human generated world that trapped him in these bounds, and to find who he really is when with you. Shrouded in this deep black void, all he could do was wait patiently until you'd boot up the game again.

A hand was placed on his side of the screen longingly, resting it gently on the face on the other side.

Note: this wasn't meant to be so sad ,how did an idea of König popping out from the screen turnvto this 😭😭

1K notes · View notes

chipsinsalsa · 1 year

Note

Super excited for your next peeta/josh hutcherson fic! Hoping you can make more for his role of Josh Futturman!! Keep up the amazing work!! 💗

Missing You

Josh Futturman x Fem! Reader

Plot: What happens when you catch your boyfriend doing something he's not supposed to.

A/N: Changed it up a bit last minute and decided to write a Josh Fic based upon those steamy Gifs on here from Futureman! Thank you everyone for the support and interactions once again! I love it! I do apologize if fics come in late I am super busy with work but once summer roles around ill be free as a bird! Let me know if you want more like this :) <3 (sry for any typos)

contains: smut, switch Josh, catching in act,masturbation

It had been 5 long days since you had last been inside you and your boyfriend's apartment.

You had gone to visit your mother who had gotten sick and had no one to take care of her. He couldn't come along as he was too busy working at his job as a Janitor. Which may not have been the best job but ultimately the building he worked for had a greater cause.

But after your aunt flew in to take over, you managed to come back home in one peace.

You knew Josh didn't get home from work until much much later so as soon as you came in you made yourself comfortable, throwing the luggage to the side and plopping yourself on the couch.

As you sat there, you took a deep breath and looked around the apartment. Not much had changed except a few dirty dishes in the sink which you made a mental note to clean up before Josh came home.

So you decided to take a quick shower to freshen up after your long trip.

Once you came out you wrapped a towel around your body making your way to your bedroom to change. But that's when you heard it, the sound of your name being called.

You froze for a moment, unsure if you had really just imagined it or if it was actually real. You listened carefully, but there was no sound. That was until you took another step closer and heard your name again, clear and coming from a voice that sounded almost desperate to call you.

Your heart rate began to increase as you realized it was indeed someone calling your name from the other side.

You wrapped the towel tighter around your body and cautiously made your way toward the source of the sound. Both afraid and curious you slowly opened the door to your bedroom.

That’s when you saw him, your boyfriend sitting on his gaming chair. His eyes closed, face lost in pleasure. You looked down and realized his hand was slowly stroking his cock as he called out for you.

You gasped in shock and quickly backed away from the door, crossing your legs, feeling warmth in your core.

You were shocked he was home and maybe even a little offended that out of everything he could be doing he was pleasuring himself without considering waiting for you. But on the other hand, the sight of him had turned you on, and you couldn’t deny it.

You decided to open the door again.

Josh’s eyes flew open as he saw you, he quickly tried to cover himself up. He looked embarrassed, and you could see the flush in his cheeks.

“I-I I’m sorry,” he said, barely managing the words while looking at you with apologetic eyes. “I didn’t know you were home. I-I thought you were still at your mom’s.” He spoke panting.

“You must have not heard me shower then-” You said as you took in the sight.

“I couldn’t help myself, I-I missed you,” his face now blushing uncontrollably.

You took a step closer to him, letting the towel fall from your body. “You know” you whispered, as you walked over to him climbing onto his lap.

“Now that im here,” You spoke slowly pulling off the blanket he had covered himself with, exposing his throbbing cock.

He whined at the feeling of your hands grasping it. “What did you imagine me doing to you,”

He began to whimper uncontrollably as he bucked his hips into your hand desperate for friction. “I-I fuck,” He gasped unable to speak.

You smirked as you continued to stroke him, enjoying the control you had over him. “Tell me, Josh,” you whispered in his ear. “What do you want me to do to you?”

He moaned loudly, his hands grabbing your hips tightly. “Anything,” he said breathlessly. “Anything you want, just please don’t stop.”

You leaned in closer to him, your lips brushing against his ear as you spoke.

“Anything?” you asked, your voice low and sultry. “You missed me that much?”

He nodded eagerly, his eyes filled with desire. “Yes,” he gasped. “P-Please, dont stop.”

You smiled wickedly as you continued to stroke him, enjoying the way he writhed beneath you. “Then promise me,” you said, still whispering in his ear.. “You won't ever touch yourself again without me.”

Josh’s eyes widened at your demand, but he didn’t hesitate in his response. “I promise, I’ll do anything, just keep going please,” He begged.

You chuckled softly at his desperation, enjoying the control you had over him.

Slowly, you leaned down and captured his lips in a heated kiss, your tongue tangling with his as you continued to stroke him. He moaned into your mouth, his body shaking with pleasure.

As you continued to kiss him, you could feel his hands beginning to roam. His hand moved up to your breast as his thumb rubbed your nipple.

You broke the kiss looking at him with a stern look. "I didn't say you could touch me yet," you spoke firmly, your hand still wrapped around his cock. "You said we could do anything I wanted?"

He looked you up and down his hands hovering over your body. “And you dont want me to touch you?”

As much as you wanted to be dominant you gave so easily into his touch. He brushed his fingers down your stomach making his way to your warmth. You shivered grinding into him. “But your already so wet-” he said teasingly before stopping abruptly. "But I won't keep touching you until you let me-”

“You can-” You spoke now craving him more than ever.

Before you could finish your sentence, Josh's lips crashed onto yours, his hands finally finding their way to your body gripping at your thighs. You couldn't help but moan into his kiss as he explored every inch of you with his hands, driving you crazy with desire.

He picked you up off the chair and onto the bed laying you down.

As he broke the kiss, he looked at you running his hands through your curves. “Now I think it's my turn to get what I want-”

Josh grinned down at you,

"And what is it that you want?" you asked, his hands still roaming your body.

"I want to be inside you," He spoke without hesitating, and he quickly positioned himself between your legs, and slowly began to insert himself into you.

As he slid inside you, you moaned loudly, feeling his hardness filling you up completely. Josh began to thrust in and out of you, his movements becoming more frantic as he got closer to the edge. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him on as he picked up the pace, each thrust hitting that spot deep inside you that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Your hands roamed over his back, scratching at his skin as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. You could feel the tension building inside you, the sensations becoming almost too much to bear.

Josh's hands moved up to your breasts, squeezing and massaging them as he continued to thrust into you with increasing urgency “You dont know how much-” He spoke between thrusts. “I fucking wanted you-”

You couldn't speak your mind lost in ecstasy.

You moaned in response, the pleasure consuming you as Josh's movements became even more frantic.

The sounds of your moans mixed with Josh's groans and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, creating an intense atmosphere of passion and desire.

As Josh's thrusts became faster and more powerful, you felt yourself approaching the peak of pleasure. Your body shook with ecstasy as you reached the brink of orgasm, and with a final thrust, Josh pushed you over the edge.

You cried out in pleasure as the orgasm washed over you, your body convulsing with waves of pleasure. Josh continued to thrust into you, riding out your orgasm before finally reaching his own release.

With a final moan, he collapsed on top of you, his body slick with sweat.

He turned to you caressing your face as he covered your naked body.

“As long as you dont leave me I promise to keep my hands away-”

#josh hutcherson #josh futturman #jhutch #joshhutcherson #peetamellark #peetasmut #josh hutcherson smut #future man #futureman #peeta x reader #peeta smut #peeta my beloved #peeta supremacy

1K notes · View notes

iamasaddie · 2 months

Text

consequences

paring: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: explicit warnings: explicit sexual content, light pain!kink, daddy!kink, daddy!dom!Joel/sub!reader, no use of Y/N a/n: the continuation of my writing challenge fic sprinkled with the valentine's day prompt i posted a month ago! thanks to sweetest person in the world for coming to my rescue and bing a beta to this fic @janaispunk ily more than pedro loves frozen pizza 🍕💛 word count: 2k masterlist

After Joel’s call you’d been buzzing all night, tossing and turning in your bed until the early hours of the morning. You hid under the blanket from the mockingly cheerful chirping of the birds that felt like pebbles being thrown at you. The darkness and heavy weight of the blanket soothed you into dreamless sleep until you were once again torn out of it by the buzzing of your phone. You wouldn’t have heard it on any other day ignoring every sound until you got your fill of sleep, but you were too wound up for that right now.

Your hand slid under the pillow, retracting your phone and checking the messages. Just like you thought, there was only one short text from Joel.

’I just left the house, be ready.’

Sleep has quickly left your body, giving way to excitement and anxiety. You jumped out of bed, stopping for a second when your head went dizzy and your eyes unfocused. Taking a couple deep breaths you hurried to the bathroom; if Joel just left that meant you had approximately twenty minutes to shower, shave where needed, moisturize and pick pretty lingerie. You looked at the big cotton panties you eventually wore to bed yesterday and shrugged. Joel had seen you in all kinds of clothes, in all kinds of states, and found you attractive both in your sweatpants and an oversized ratty t-shirt, and in a silk nightgown you were gifted for Valentine’s day. Still, you felt like you might get off easy if you were extra sexy. Maybe Joel’s mind would stop working as soon as he saw you and his dick went hard.

You lathered your body in shower gel, the smell of sweet white peaches filling the small room. You scrubbed yourself squeaky clean, humming a song that was stuck in your head, your toothpaste foaming out of your mouth. Before climbing out of the shower you slowly traced your hand over the parts of your body that you shaved, making sure there weren’t any traitorous hairs that you didn’t catch. Happy with the result, your skin smooth and smelling like summer, you checked your phone. Judging by the clock, you had no more than five minutes left, so you quickly dried yourself off and skipped to pick out the killer panties and bra set.

You settled on a cute black one, the almost transparent material of bra cups and panties was embroidered with pretty red hearts. It made you feel sexy and bold, and it made Joel lose his pants in less than three minutes.

Giggling to yourself, you straightened the bed and laid down on top of your simple pink sheets when you heard your door opening downstairs. As usual, Joel used the key you kept under the flower pot outside to let himself in. He joked about the amount of flower pots in your garden on more than one occasion, considering the fact that you killed any plant you bought within a couple of weeks. You even managed to kill a cactus and that was the last victim of your plant-killing spree that left behind too much evidence in the form of dozens of clay pots.

With a smirk, you listened to his footsteps growing louder as he made his way up the stairs, your heart pounding in your ears. As the door creaked open, Joel's voice called out.

“I hope you're ready, because you’re not escaping your punishment.”

His eyes settled on you sprawled on your bed and his brows furrowed, his jaw going slack. The unmistakable fiery passion you saw in his eyes sent shivers down your spine as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. In that moment, you realized that there would indeed be consequences for your playful teasing, but you were more than ready to face them head-on.

“Why aren’t you naked, baby?” He didn’t let your little trick affect his plans like you hoped, your mouth dropped open and you tried to stutter out a reply while Joel rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. You were surprised that he decided to wear something so formal, he usually wore sweatpants or shorts and an old t-shirt when he visited your house. Your mouth filled with saliva as more and more of his thick tanned forearms showed. This time, there was no escaping the threatening notes in Joel's voice as he took a deliberate step closer, his unwavering gaze locking with yours. You knew exactly what kind of mood he was in and your insides shivered with excitement, arousal already staining the gusset of your panties.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” your voice was anything but remorseful, little devils dancing in your eyes, “I just wanted to be pretty for you.”

“You wanted to be bratty for me, and you succeeded. Your little whore self thought you’d get off easy if you met me in this number? Well, lucky for me I rubbed one out before coming here, sweetheart."

“But…”

“Do you really want to finish this sentence, baby?”

You shook your head and Joel leaned down over you, taking your face in his palms, “good girl.”

You got rid of your underwear while you saw him fumbling with his phone and strategically placing it so the camera was facing you.

“What are you doing?” Your voice was suddenly surprisingly shy, nipples hardened from the exposure and anticipation.

“We’re gonna make a little video lesson for you, so that you know how to please your pretty pussy when I’m not around.” Joel said matter of factly. He checked the angle on the screen, “move a little to the right, baby, and spread that pretty pussy.”

You abided him immediately, without question. It was something you were used to. Not shooting porn with Joel, no, in fact, that was the first time; but trusting him blindly. What he says goes, because somehow he always knew what made you feel best.

Your fingers slowly traced down your body, pinching your nipples on the way and getting a warning glare from Joel. Going lower you let your legs spread further apart before parting your pussy lips with your index fingers. Arousal covered your burning flesh, and you felt your digits slipping.

“What a gorgeous fucking cunt,” Joel lowered himself on his knees before the bed and dragged you by your ankles so your thighs framed his shoulders. “If only she didn’t have a mind of her own, hm? One that makes my perfect little girl act like the brattiest slut in a Vegas whorehouse.”

He didn’t let you say anything, biting into the soft flesh of your thigh with vigor so that the word you tried to push out was broken by a half scream-half moan. Whatever you thought your punishment would be, you definitely didn’t consider Joel going down on you and recording it. If that was the case you’d have to misbehave more often, you smirked to yourself as you felt your man’s wet and hot tongue sliding through your folds.

“Sweet as sin,” he mumbled, grazing your throbbing clit with his upper lip,”and twice as dangerous.”

Joel knew your body well, sometimes you felt like he knew it too well, dangerously well. He knew your ticks, and pleasure points, and pain spots and all of the erogenous zones, some of which you didn’t even know existed. He possessed a power over you that would make a normal person terrified, but you were too fucked up in the head, too hungry for the love he’s been giving you to care one bit.

His tongue drew tight circles around your pulsing clit dropping from time to time to lick the arousal where it leaked around his fingers. The upcoming orgasm made you numb to everything but pleasure and you almost didn’t catch it when first one, then two and then the burning stretch of three fingers started plunging into you and coaxing the release from you.

It didn’t take you long, the movements just right, the pace perfect, and in a couple of moments you were squeezing Joel’s fingers with your contracting muscles, panting heavily.

You tried to catch your breath, but Joel didn’t stop. None of his movements changed and you thought that maybe he didn’t notice you cumming.

“Daddy, I came,” you whispered, your trembling hands sliding into his hair, gripping the curly strands that were more salt than pepper.

Joel’s hums into your pussy were quiet, but the sensitive skin of your pussy felt the vibrations zap through it. His tongue continued torturing you, never giving you a chance to calm down before ripping another orgasm out of you. Your back snapped, arching so hard you thought you’d heard your spine crack. When you stopped shaking, but Joel was still stubbornly nipping and licking your clit, spitting on it after getting a long inhale with his nose pressed into the soft skin of your pussy and diving back in, you finally understood your punishment.

Joel was uncharacteristically quiet, usually he would spew all kinds of filth in your ear, but now he didn’t spare a second to mutter anything so as not to give your poor pussy any rest. The only sounds coming out of him were pleased hums and moans that spread from your cunt and to your brain in electric shocks.

By the fifth orgasm you forgot about everything. You forgot the camera that was still recording you becoming less and less coherent, you forgot the place you were at, you even forgot your own name, the only thing you knew was raw pleasure on the verge of pain that made your eyes water and your mouth plead.

“It hurts, Daddy, I can’t do it anymore,” you cried, trying to move away from his death grip. Your vision was blurry with tears but you still saw Joel’s head appear from between your legs, smacking his lips intentionally loud. He looked satisfied, a cat that just managed to steal and eat thanksgiving turkey, but two of his meaty fingers continued pushing in and out of your tender cunt.

“Baby, you know Daddy only hurts you because you look so pretty when you cry.”

You felt another orgasm sending electric pulses through your body. It was a constant state of painful bliss, your body was both tired and wound up. You let your tears stream freely down your cheeks, salty water collecting in the shells of your ears but you were too out of it to be bothered or even pay attention. Your voice was hoarse from screaming and whining and begging, unintentional whimpers flowing out of you with every breath. Your eyes dropped closed for what you thought was just a moment but turned out to be way longer.

The next time you opened your eyes it was already dark in your room. Your body was hot, sweat sticking to your back that was pressed into the man spooning you from behind. You started shifting when you realized something about you was different. Squeezing your thighs you quickly realized what that was exactly. Nestled deep inside you was a throbbing hard shaft of Joel’s cock. It felt so right spreading your soft and aching walls that you didn’t feel any discomfort at all, if you ignored the burning sting of your swollen pussy and clit.

When Joel’s hand traveled to your sternum and cupped your left tit, your pussy squeezed him once again, both of you moaning in tandem.

“The punishment is over, baby, now let Daddy give you a reward.” He whispered, pressing a wet kiss to the back of your neck as you hummed in agreement.

#iamasaddie fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #tlou fanfiction

392 notes · View notes

oddinary4bts · 9 months

Text

Sinful Lust (ch 2) | myg & jjk

☆summary: bringing Jungkook in your bedroom life might have been the most exciting phase of your relationship with Yoongi. Getting to know Jungkook more might be the second most exciting phase of your relationship... but will it lead to its demise?

☆pairing: bisexual boyfriend!Yoongi x female!reader x Jungkook

☆rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

☆genre: mostly smut, angst, snippets of life!au

☆warnings: making out in a car, pet names, curses, explicit content: dirty talking, grinding, jerking off, nipple play, hickeys, oral sex (male on male, female on male, male on female), balls sucking, choking, praising, clit play, fingering, hair pulling, mouth fucking, unprotected sex (don't be stupid), double vaginal penetration, ass slapping, squirting, anal fingering

☆word count: 9.4k

☆a/n: Some more pure filth for you guys... with a side of angst at the end. Thank you @moonleeai as always for beta-ing this fic <3

☆a/n pt2: I do not own BTS or any of the members. I do not know what they are like irl (I do not claim to know their personalities, sexual orientations, beliefs, etc.). This fic is just a work of fiction, so please keep that in mind while reading

☆series masterpost

☆☆☆☆☆

The next time you see Jungkook, it’s at a dinner at Taehyung’s house. Though Yoongi has never been close to Taehyung, when Jungkook said it’d be fun to have both of you around, you didn’t hesitate. Indeed, it had Yoongi and you getting… excited once again, so needless to say, you attend the dinner.

You expect there to be a lot of tension during dinner, but surprisingly, it’s just like it always is. Yoongi spends most of his time smiling as his friends talk, joining in the conversation once in a while. You hang out with Hoseok and Taehyung's girlfriends, Ryunah and Sohee, as you usually do during these dinners.

What you don’t miss, though, is the way Jungkook suggestively looks at you. The way Yoongi wets his lips when it happens, eyes falling to the table with a knowing smile. You wink at Jungkook when no one is watching, and it feels like you have your own little secret with him and Yoongi, and truly you do.

It makes you way too expectant for what’s to happen at the end of the night. And it’s no surprise to you that you end up making out with Jungkook on the backseat of Yoongi’s car while your boyfriend drives, palming himself through his pants from the sounds you and Jungkook make. You all have taken your winter jackets off already, the heat in the car far too high even though the world is freezing outside.

“Can’t wait till we’re home, uh?” Yoongi lets out, and it sounds a little jealous.

You pull away from Jungkook’s mouth, looking at your boyfriend in the rear-view mirror while Jungkook busies himself sucking a mark on your neck. You hiss as his teeth sink into the skin, and you feel Jungkook smirk against you.

“I can’t wait to have you buried inside of me,” you answer Yoongi.

It’s Jungkook’s time to hiss as you pull on his hair hard enough to make him look at you. He meets your gaze through half-lidded eyes, and you crash your mouth against his, sucking on his bottom lip. One of your hands lies on his thigh, and you move it to palm him through his pants.

He’s already hard, dick pushing against the fabric of his jeans as he grinds once, looking for friction. At that, you pull away from his mouth again and say, “Someone’s a little excited, uh?”

As you’re unbuttoning his pants, Jungkook pants out, “I’ve been thinking about having both of you under me again all week”.

Your blood turns to lava, and you fumble with his button for a second too long to your liking. You curse, and Yoongi chuckles from the front seat.

“You both need to learn how to be patient,” he teases.

You manage to finally unbutton Jungkook’s pants, but instead of sliding your hand in his pants, you lean towards Yoongi, aiming for his dick. You palm him, liking the weight of him in your hand.

“Clearly, you’re a little impatient, too,” you tease back.

Jungkook runs a large hand on your back as you keep palming your boyfriend until Yoongi grunts and says, “Stop, I have to focus on driving”.

You laugh, before sitting back next to Jungkook. He pulls you back into yet another heated kiss, and this time your hand slips into his pants, wrapping around his cock. He bucks his hips once, moaning in your mouth as you start jerking him off, a little awkwardly from the angle that his pants force you to be in.

You jerk him off for the rest of the ride, even as Yoongi tuts from the front seat, repeating in his low, husky tone that you and Jungkook are too impatient. It makes you chuckle breathlessly because Jungkook managed to get your shirt up, and he’s sucking on one of your nipples, tongue flicking at it expertly.

You’re so wet by the time you get to your apartment complex that you’re pretty sure you’ve soaked the seat under you. You don’t look to make sure, too excited to make it up to your place. Jungkook struggles with his hard-on for a time until he’s got it secured in the band of his pants, hiding it with his oversized shirt.

Only then does he follow you and Yoongi out of the car, and he looks at you two while you share your first heated kiss of the night with your boyfriend.

“Come on,” Jungkook says, and he moves towards the elevator, soon followed by you and Yoongi. Yoongi holds your hand tightly, and while you wait for the elevator he presses a kiss on your neck, where the collar of your shirt gives way to skin. You meet Jungkook’s gaze then, and he looks a little crazed, as if not jumping in right now is taking all of his strength.

And maybe it is.

The elevator ride is just as heated. With you pressed between the two guys, ass grinding on Jungkook while you kiss Yoongi, and then lips sucking on your boyfriend’s neck while he kisses Jungkook. You’re too insane with lust to realize anyone could walk in and see you, though luckily enough for you, your ride is spent without any interruption.

You fumble with your keys as you unlock the door, struggling to get the key into the hole as you’re distracted by the lewd sounds Jungkook and Yoongi are making. You shoot them a look: Yoongi’s got his tongue deep in Jungkook’s mouth, and Jungkook’s inked hand is palming your boyfriend through his pants.

You think you’re going to come right then and there. And you don’t know how, but you manage to get the door open. A second later, the three of you are in, and the door is blissfully closed behind you, allowing you to indulge in the sins the night promises to hold.

Jungkook pins you against the wall, kissing you wildly, as Yoongi rids him of his pants. Your hands are splayed on Jungkook’s chest, and you can feel the quick beats of his heart under your fingertips. You moan in his mouth as he sucks on your tongue, and when he moves back to allow your boyfriend to kneel between the two of you, your teeth dig into your bottom lip, almost hard enough to draw blood.

Because Yoongi’s already wrapped his pretty lips around the head of Jungkook’s cock, and one of his hands is massaging Jungkook’s balls.

“Look who’s impatient now,” you tease, and Jungkook chuckles.

“He couldn’t wait to be in the bedroom to have my dick stuffed in his mouth, uh?”

You smirk down at your boyfriend, who looks up at the two of you desperately. When he releases Jungkook’s dick to run his tongue along the length, you get on your knees too, and Jungkook let out a surprised sound.

“Might as well suck you with him, uh?”

Jungkook grabs the back of your head, pushing you towards his dick. “Can’t say no to that.”

Your tongue darts out, tasting Yoongi’s spit along with Jungkook’s precum on the slit. Yoongi watches you from the other side, pupils blown wide, as he holds Jungkook’s cock so you can take him in your mouth.

You do so, eyes fluttering shut as Jungkook bucks his hips and hits the back of your throat. You hold in the gag reflex and start going back and forth, letting Jungkook guide your head until he’s found the rhythm that he likes.

You can’t see what Yoongi’s doing but can feel him nearby. At some point, Jungkook pulls your head back, and you open your eyes to see him stuffing his dick back into Yoongi’s awaiting mouth.

You let out a breathy sound, then lean so you can suck on Jungkook’s balls instead, teasing them with your tongue before actually taking one in your mouth.

“You guys are so good,” Jungkook praises. “Always so good to me.”

You both like the praise, and Yoongi moans audibly around Jungkook’s cock.

“That’s it, hyung, you’re so good,” Jungkook says, and you sit back on your heels to look up at him.

He’s looking down at the two of you, but when your gazes connect, it feels like an intimate embrace. His mouth is slightly parted, and he looks pained standing there, so you stand up, pressing your lips to his. He grunts in your mouth, but as you kiss, he starts undressing you, ridding you of your shirt first. You part just long enough for the shirt to pass your head, and then your mouths collide again. Your teeth clash together, and it makes both of you laugh in the kiss, though Jungkook’s laugh morphs into a moan.

You swallow it, tongue lapping at his, and you keep kissing him, getting drunk on the taste of him.

“Fuck,” he says, pulling away from the kiss. “Hyung, if you keep going, I’ll never make it to the bedroom.”

Yoongi chuckles as he sits back on his heels, and you look down at him where he’s slowly stroking Jungkook’s cock. “Too bad you taste so good,” Yoongi says, voice gravelly from the blowjob. His pink lips glisten with a mix of spit and precum, and you have the urgent need to kiss him.

Yoongi gets up, as if sensing your need, to press his lips against yours, and you taste Jungkook’s sweetness in his mouth. It makes you moan, loudly, especially as Jungkook grabs at the meat of your ass, hard.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” Jungkook says, and his voice sounds dangerous.

You’re shaking with lust as Yoongi pulls away from the kiss, nodding once.

He grabs your hand, pulling you behind him as Jungkook rids himself of his pants and boxers, where they were pooled at his ankles. He follows the two of you with only his shirt on, and his cheeks are flushed red with arousal when you glance at him over your shoulder.

You want him so much it hurts. But mostly, you want him for Yoongi again. You want to see that indecent mouth of his on Yoongi’s cock again, want to see him swallow everything your boyfriend spills into him.

You whine, and he offers you a smirk. “Something wrong, baby?”

At that, Yoongi grows a little possessive. “Is she your baby?” He tugs you closer to him right as you enter the bedroom, making you turn around so he can press his erection on your ass. One of his large hands wraps around your throat, fingers skillfully digging into the arteries, and the other one moves down to rid you of your pants.

Jungkook looks a little alarmed as if he didn’t mean the pet name to slip out. Though, when Yoongi manages to free you of your pants, the fabric falling to the floor, Jungkook’s eyes drop to the wet spot on your panties.

“Nah, she’s yours, hyung,” he says. “And she’s all soaked up for us. What a good girl, don’t you think?”

Yoongi bites your shoulder, sucking hard, and you throw your head back. “I’ll let you have her a little tonight.”

Jungkook smirks. “I know. You’re such a good boy.”

Yoongi moves your panties to the side, and two of his fingers find your clit. Your mouth falls open, as you start to get dizzy from the absence of oxygen to your brain. Soon, Yoongi will have to let you breathe, but you like testing your limit, so you let him continue.

When more fingers find your entrance, Jungkook’s hand having moved between the two of you, you grab at Yoongi’s forearm. It’s enough for him to know to let you breathe, and you take a sharp inhale of air that turns into a moan as Jungkook’s fingers dig inside of you, arching to find that sweet spot.

The two men pleasure you for a while until your legs start to shake. Only then do they let you go, speaking about how you turn into playdough for them.

You want to say something, but then they start kissing, and all you can do is watch as you palm your breasts. Until you realize Yoongi is still fully dressed, something that needs to be remedied right now. So you grab at the hem of his shirt, pushing it up until Jungkook gets the clue and pulls away. He helps you, and soon enough, you’ve undressed Yoongi together, as Jungkook whispers filth to the two of you. Jungkook also takes his shirt off, as you push Yoongi’s pants down his legs.

You get an idea as Yoongi steps out of his pants, looking down at his cock. He’s so hard it looks painful, and you run one hand on the side of his dick.

“Should we try something new tonight?” you suggest.

Yoongi meets your gaze, tilting his head to the side. “You know I’m always down to try something new.”

Your eyes slide to Jungkook next, awaiting his confirmation that he’d be willing, too. “What do you have in mind?” he asks.

You look back at your boyfriend. “He deserves some more action, doesn’t he?”

Jungkook remains silent as you drop to your knees between the two of them. You lick at the head of your boyfriend’s dick once, one hand finding the base of it while the other finds the base of Jungkook’s cock. You jerk them off in sync, looking up at the two of them. They wait for an explanation patiently, and you can’t help sucking on Jungkook’s frenulum once.

“Fuck,” Jungkook lets out. “What do you have in mind?” he asks again as you swipe your tongue on the same spot.

“What would you be willing to do?” you ask him.

While you wait for his answer, you turn towards your boyfriend’s dick, swirling your tongue around the head. You still jerk Jungkook off, though it grows unfocused as you suck Yoongi’s dick.

“For you? Way more than I ever thought I’d be willing to do.”

“Shibal,” Yoongi curses, and you look up to see him pull Jungkook into a heated kiss. His large hand closes around Jungkook’s neck, and Jungkook moans lightly as Yoongi starts choking him.

His dick jumps in your hand, and you slow the rhythm, fully expecting him to come then and there. You’re surprised – he wasn’t desperate the last time you had sex with him. It was quite the other way around: he manhandled both you and Yoongi like it was nothing.

Tonight, it feels like maybe you’re going to be the ones manhandling him.

“Would you fuck him for me?” you ask as you sit back on your heels, licking your lips clean of Yoongi’s salty precum. “I want to see him moaning your name.”

They part, both of them shooting you looks like you’ve gone entirely crazy. Yoongi, with an expectant look on his features, and Jungkook, with a frown that makes you think maybe he’s not really willing to do anything you ask.

“Uh,” he lets out as you slowly stroke his dick.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Yoongi reassures him. “She just wants to be a good girl and please me.”

Jungkook chuckles, and he meets Yoongi’s gaze. “Nothing against you hyung, but I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

You whine, a little disappointed. It makes Yoongi laugh as he gently brushes his fingers on your cheek. “It’s okay, baby. I think he wants to fuck you instead.”

At that, Jungkook bucks his hips, fucking himself in your hand. Though you’re a little disappointed, you still smirk and say, “You might be right, look at him all desperate.”

“You guys are going to be the death of me,” Jungkook says, voice low. He curses, slightly shaking his head, as Yoongi’s fingers move to the head of Jungkook’s cock, collecting a bead of precum before licking it clean.

“We’ll make sure you die happy,” you tease, and you finally let go of their dicks, standing up between them.

It leads to a make-out session that has your mind spinning. It’s full of lips and tongues, and you don’t even know who you’re kissing anymore. Only that your mind is full of them, skin tingling wherever they touch you. And they touch you everywhere until they’ve had enough and they push you to the bed.

You sit instinctively when the back of your knees hit the mattress, and you look up at the two of them as they start kissing. Jungkook pulls on your boyfriend’s hair, making Yoongi moan, and when they part, he grabs Yoongi’s jaw, forcing him to look at you.

“Why don’t you eat her out?” Jungkook suggests. “I’m pretty sure your girl wants you.”

You bite your lips, nodding your head in agreement. “You think Yoongi can make me come with his tongue?”

Yoongi drops to his knees as Jungkook laughs and says, “I’m sure he will”.

Yoongi spreads your legs, and you instinctively lie down. He pulls your panties down your legs, ridding you of them, and then his mouth finds your clit. He sucks on it, hard, and stars already form on the periphery of your vision.

“Fuck,” you let out.

Jungkook kneels on the bed, stroking his dick. “Can I fuck your mouth while he eats you out?” he asks.

You nod your head, probably a little too enthusiastically, and Jungkook positions himself next to you. You turn your head to the side, but to your surprise, he makes you move so he can place a pillow under your head.

“For your neck,” he says gently, features turning soft even though he’s about to fuck your mouth.

It’s sweet, and you try to ignore the way that it makes your heart squeeze in your chest. Instead, you put your head down on the pillow, face still turned towards him, and your tongue darts out to lick at his slit.

He’s quick to grab the back of your head and push his cock between your lips, barely even letting you breathe as he starts pounding in your mouth.

You let him do it, mostly because Yoongi has pushed two fingers inside of you, and you’re pretty sure your orgasm is about to wipe you from the surface of the earth.

Jungkook slows down when one of your hands finds his powerful thigh, and he pulls out to let you breathe for a time. When he leans down to dry the tears that have slipped down your cheeks, you meet his gaze again.

He looks pained. You want to ask what’s hurting him, but your orgasm crashes over you, and you lose focus of the scene. You come long and hard, walls pulsating hard against Yoongi’s digits. Because of course he fingers you through your high, sucking on your clit and flicking it lightly with that wicked tongue of his.

He knows what you like, and only he is able to make your orgasms drag for so long. He really does, and when he finally lets you go, you’re a panting mess.

“That looks like it felt good,” Jungkook teases and Yoongi laughs.

“She’s all ready for us now,” he says, and he runs a loving hand on your side.

Your eyes flutter open to the sight of the two men looking down at you. You let out a small laugh before saying, “Holy fucking shit”.

They laugh, and you push yourself up weakly until you’re sitting between them. You look between the two of them, not knowing what to do next. You feel drained, and if they notice, they don’t care. Because Jungkook takes the rein, telling you to climb on Yoongi.

You obey, head barely there when Yoongi fucks up into you, fully embedding his dick inside of you. When he hits your cervix, you come back to your senses, and you let out a long, broken moan that was supposed to be his name.

Yoongi barely gives you a break though. He holds onto your waist, fucking you quick and fast, the way you know he likes, and you’re a mess on top of him. It lasts for a moment, with Jungkook barely making any noises beside you. You’re aware that he’s jerking off, mostly because you see him move in the periphery of your vision. It takes you a moment before you’re able to look at him, and when you do, your pussy clenches around Yoongi’s cock, hard.

“Fuck, baby,” Yoongi whines.

“I want you too,” you tell Jungkook, the only coherent words you could think of.

Jungkook smirks, wetting his lips. “You want me in your ass or in your pussy?”

“Pussy,” you answer, unable to form a full sentence even though Yoongi has slowed down.

“You think you can take the both of us?” Jungkook asks. “It’s going to be a lot.”

You’re adamant. You say yes, eyes tearing up just at the thought of having both of them inside of you.

“Your girlfriend is such a good girl,” Jungkook says, addressing Yoongi this time.

Yoongi slows some more, pecking your shoulder. “She’s the best.”

It makes your heart swell with love for him, and you meet his mouth in a long, languid kiss as Jungkook moves behind you, positioning himself. You understand that he’s about to stretch you wide open when Yoongi stills, giving him a chance to push in.

It doesn’t go in at first. Jungkook lets out a small laugh, and you hear him spit behind you. He rubs it on your entrance before digging two fingers in. Yoongi moans under you, and all you can do is shut your eyes, pressing your head against his shoulder.

Jungkook fingers you for a time, adding a third finger when your walls start to relax. He does it for a while, with Yoongi remaining still as a statue under you, though he grunts and hisses his fill. When Jungkook thinks you’re ready, he pulls his fingers out before slapping your ass once.

You jerk in Yoongi’s embrace, as it took you by surprise, but then the feel of Jungkook’s tip at your entrance has you moaning lightly.

“Are you ready?” he asks, and you’re surprised by his gentle touch on your hip.

You nod.

“Use your words.”

“Fuck me, Jungkook.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He starts pushing in, slowly, and it burns so much you have tears escaping the confine of your eyes. Yoongi’s grip on you tightens, almost uncomfortably so, but Jungkook’s grip on your hip remains infinitely gentle.

He stills when the head is in, before pulling out. He spits on his dick, adding more natural lubrication, before he starts pushing in again. This time, it’s a little easier, and he’s able to push all the way in, his dick resting against Yoongi’s where it presses deep against your walls.

Jungkook doesn’t move for a long time, and none of you speak. You feel full, fuller than you’ve ever felt in your entire life, and as much as it hurts, it also feels good. Way too good, and your pussy clenches around the two men.

“Fuck,” Yoongi curses at the same time as Jungkook grunts. “Fuck, baby, I’m going to come so soon.”

At that, Jungkook laughs. “You like when my dick touches yours?”

It’s so indecent you moan against your boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Yes,” Yoongi shamelessly answers. “You feel so good, Jungkook.”

It’s an understatement. Jungkook feels better than anything you’ve ever felt in your entire life. Especially as he starts to pull out, ever so slowly, and you can feel the drag of every vein of his dick on your walls.

He pushes back in, one powerful thrust that has you crying out as Yoongi moans.

“You guys like this?” Jungkook asks, and it sounds a little pained. It’s rhetorical, especially as he starts pulling out, faster this time. It doesn’t hurt as much as it initially did, and your hand shoots behind you until it finds the side of his thigh.

You don’t know why you do it, but you just have this visceral need to touch him. So you rest your fingers on the side of his leg as he establishes a slow, steady rhythm, and when he grunts something that suspiciously sounds like your name, your walls clench against the two of them again.

“Hyung, I think you can move too,” Jungkook says a little breathlessly. “You think we can make her come like this?”

You’re pretty sure Yoongi is going to be the first one to come, but you refrain from saying so as your boyfriend matches his movements to Jungkook’s. It makes your eyes roll to the back of your head as you lose sense of everything but the spot between your legs.

They fuck you slow at first, but soon the pace picks up, and you’re a whining, moaning mess by the time Yoongi moans loudly before cursing a litany of words that has goosebumps appearing all over your body. He comes a lot, turning your insides white, stopping deep inside of you as Jungkook just keeps going. Yoongi’s seed makes it easier for Jungkook to move, and he’s soon pounding inside of you, grunting loudly.

At some point, Yoongi slips out of you, but he still holds you as Jungkook keeps going. Jungkook leans forward, and when he starts kissing your boyfriend, you grab the back of his neck, holding him in place.

He doesn’t come. He stops before he does, his dick so hard inside of you you think you’ll lose it. You’ll go fully crazy, forget everything about yourself, and all you’ll remember is him. And the worst part is, you don’t even care.

Jungkook pulls out, and the sudden emptiness almost hurts just as much as having the two of them inside of you did. You whine, and it makes him laugh.

“Lie on your back,” he orders, slapping your ass once.

Yoongi’s grip on your waist loosens enough for you to move, and you meet your boyfriend’s gaze once as you lay down next to him. He looks blissed out, much like you felt earlier, and you don’t blame him: with Jungkook in the equation, your orgasms have really started hitting different.

When you’re on your back, Jungkook kneels between your legs. He caresses your thighs gently, waits for you to look at him, and when your gazes connect he pushes in. You moan, eyes losing their focus for a few seconds. He remains still until you’re focused on him again, and then he glances at Yoongi.

“Think you can play with her clit while I fuck her?” he asks. “I want to pull another orgasm out of her before I finish.”

Yoongi chuckles. “You’re going to ruin her.”

“Isn’t that how you like your girlfriend to be?”

Jungkook really is a demon. The King of Hell himself, and he’s imprisoned the two of you down there with him, for the rest of eternity.

When Yoongi kisses him, Jungkook starts to fuck you, slowly. You watch as he grabs Yoongi’s wrist to put his fingers on your clit. Yoongi moans in the kiss, almost at the same time as you do as he starts rubbing your clit. It takes a few swipes before he does it the way that you like, and you’re a writhing mess under Jungkook when he starts pounding hard into you, so much so that you think it’d hurt. Somehow it doesn’t, and you shut your eyes, hands looking for purchase. You find someone’s hand, and you don’t even care whose it is. You just hold onto it as the two men start pulling another orgasm out of you. This one feels different, more intense, and it has everything inside of you tightening.

When it hits, you come so hard it pushes Jungkook out of you. He’s quick to bury his cock back inside of you, fighting against your pulsating walls, and then he’s releasing, his cum mixing with what was left of Yoongi’s.

He stills deep inside of you as he comes, and when you think he’s done, your eyes flutter open. You don’t know when, but Yoongi moved while Jungkook was fucking you. So you’re holding one of Jungkook’s hands, while the other was rubbing at your clit. You’re confused – you didn’t feel the shift at all – and you just watch Jungkook for a time as he breathes raggedly, still buried deep inside of you.

“You squirted all over me,” he states.

You only notice then how his lower stomach is all wet, golden skin glistening with your cum. It makes your walls tighten around him once more, and he lets out a chuckle.

“You liked it?”

You did. Way more than you thought you could. Way more than you should have, considering Yoongi wasn’t helping anymore. You shoot a look at your boyfriend, hoping that he’s okay with it, and when you notice he’s gone hard again, you know that he, too, liked it far more than he should have.

“Yeah,” you finally answer Jungkook, as he finally decides to pull out. It gains your attention, and you look at him as he focuses on the spot between your legs.

When you feel his cum, and Yoongi’s, starting to drip out, Jungkook pushes it back in, burying two fingers in your pussy.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he says, voice low, eyes burning into you. He meets your gaze, and you’re pretty sure you’re going to catch fire, especially as he arches his fingers, playing with that sweet spot inside of you. “Think I can make you come again?”

To his surprise, the word you answer is “Yoongi”.

Your boyfriend perks up at the mention of his name. “Yeah?”

You turn back towards Jungkook, meeting his gaze with a challenge in yours. “I’ll let you make me come if you fuck him.”

Jungkook looks down at his softening length, letting out a small laugh. “I don’t think I’ll be able right away.”

“Well then,” you let out. You moan when his fingers start moving faster, before closing your thighs around his wrist. He gets the clue, and he stills. “No fingering me.”

He clenches his jaw, a muscle ticking under the skin. “Your loss, baby.”

And then he leaves you empty. You both look towards your boyfriend, who’s slowly stroking his dick. He eyes you both, an unreadable look on his features.

“Why don’t you finger his ass?” you suggest.

Jungkook’s tongue pokes at his cheek, in frustration perhaps. “You really want me to put something in his ass, uh?”

Though you’re still riding the ecstasy, you manage to smirk wickedly. “He deserves it, don’t you think? He’s been so good for us.”

Jungkook wets his lips, nodding once. To your surprise, it’s Yoongi who speaks.

“You really don’t have to.”

“Shut up before I change my mind,” Jungkook tells him, but he’s looking at you. “I’ll finger his ass while you suck his dick. I want to see you swallow everything he has to give you.”

You almost say you want to see Jungkook swallowing, but you refrain from doing so, not wanting him to change his mind.

You both move next to Yoongi, and you swat his hand away from his dick. He chuckles, though he looks a little breathless as you grab his cock. It only increases when Jungkook spreads his legs, kneeling between Yoongi’s thighs to get a good angle. And he looks at you when he spits on his fingers before bringing them to Yoongi’s asshole.

He still looks at you when he pushes the two fingers in, fighting against the circle of muscle until Yoongi’s ass swallows them whole.

Yoongi moans, but there’s something about how Jungkook’s looking at you. As much as you want to see what Yoongi looks like right now, you can’t move, can’t gaze away from the prison of Jungkook’s eyes. He looks angry, and when he tilts his head to the side, you lean towards him, catching his lips in a kiss.

You think it’s the most heated kiss you’ve ever shared with anyone before. It has you dripping again, thinking you’d be ready to go once more, even though your core aches from the double penetration and the rough fuck that followed. It has a knot forming in your stomach, a painful one at that, and you moan in his mouth.

When he pulls away from the kiss, it’s to grab the back of your head and force you to bend down until your face is right over Yoongi’s cock. You don’t hesitate: you wrap your lips around the flushed-red tip, sucking once. And then you move down, hollowing your cheeks as Yoongi hits the back of your throat. The gag reflex doesn’t come, though your eyes turn blurry with tears as Jungkook holds you there, keeping you from moving.

And as he brushes his fingers on Yoongi’s prostate, your boyfriend starts fucking up into your mouth, and the gag reflex finally comes.

Jungkook lets you pull away then, and you release Yoongi’s dick to take a deep breath, drying the tears that spilled on your cheeks with the back of your hand. And then you’re back to sucking your boyfriend’s dick, swallowing around him whenever you take almost all of him in. He’s a moaning mess, dick turning so hard you think it’ll burst. Both from your ministrations and Jungkook’s, and you want to pull away from Yoongi’s dick to tell Jungkook he’s so good.

He stops you by digging two fingers in your pussy, taking you by surprise. You moan around your boyfriend’s cock, and that’s all it takes to push him over the edge a second time. He doesn’t come as much this time around, but you still swallow every drop until you’re sure you’ve milked his orgasm out of him.

When he’s done, you release his dick with a satisfying plop before turning your head to look at Jungkook. He’s still watching you, and he tilts his head to the side.

“You swallowed everything?”

You nod, obediently pushing your tongue out, widening your jaw to show him your empty mouth. Only then do his fingers leave Yoongi’s asshole, though he fingers you for a few more seconds before he leaves you empty too.

“Not going to make me come?” you tease him as you sit on your heels. “Didn’t you say you wanted to make me come again?”

He surprises you by kissing you instead. And you don’t know what he’s chasing on your lips. You don’t think it’s lust that’s driving him right now. Maybe frustration because he’s ravishing your mouth, marking himself into it. It leaves you shaking when he finally pulls away, and you suck in a deep breath as you share a long look.

You don’t know how to read his eyes. He’s not like Yoongi – you can read Yoongi like every chapter of your favourite book. No, Jungkook is a mystery, undecipherable, an enigma you have yet to find the solution of. So you just hold his big gaze, drown in his depths, until he glances away, looking at Yoongi instead.

“No offense hyung, but I really feel like washing my hands,” he says.

You snort a laugh, and it gains Jungkook’s attention for two seconds without him saying anything. He gets up, and you watch him go, feeling a drop of lead form in your stomach.

You remain kneeling in that spot for a moment, observing the doorway, almost expecting Jungkook to pop in and say a joke, but he doesn’t. So you shrug the awkwardness off, before moving to Yoongi’s side.

“How are you feeling?” you ask him as you lay down, resting your head on his shoulder.

He molds you into his side, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Fucked out,” he answers truthfully, and you share a small laugh. “You?”

“Good,” you reply. “And a little hungry.”

“You didn’t eat enough at dinner?” he teases.

You chuckle. “Oh, I did, but this all made me hungry again.”

He presses another kiss to your temple. “Do you want me to cook you something?”

“I’d feel bad. I think we still have some tangerines, might as well just eat that.”

He nods next to you, but he remains silent. You don’t move, eyes fluttering shut as you listen to the familiar beats of his heart. They’d lull you to sleep if you didn’t know Jungkook was somewhere in the apartment.

Jungkook’s reminder makes your eyes open again, and you watch the doorway.

“Do you think something’s wrong with Jungkook?” you ask, voice small.

Yoongi looks down at you, but you ignore his gaze. “I don’t know? Should we check on him?”

You whine. “I don’t want to move.”

That makes Yoongi laugh, and he presses another kiss to your head. “Well then, let’s hope he comes back soon.”

You nod, wrapping your arm around Yoongi’s waist to hold him close. You’re silent for a few seconds before you ask, “Do you think we should invite him to sleep over? It’s pretty late.”

Yoongi glances at the clock on the bedside table. “Right.” He pauses before answering, “Our bed is not that big”.

He isn’t wrong. “He can take the guest room,” you point out. “I don’t want to kick him out at his hour.”

You feel Yoongi tense under you ever so slightly, but Jungkook is back before you can say anything more. His chest is flushed red, and you notice that he’s already collected his underwear and pants. He’s put them on too, and you suddenly feel shy, still naked under his gaze.

“I’ll let you guys sleep,” he says.

His voice sounds a little strained, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by you or Yoongi.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi asks, propping himself up on an elbow so he can get a good look at Jungkook.

Jungkook plays with his piercing for a time before shrugging. “You guys are all lovey-dovey, I don’t want to step over the line.”

You sit up. “Come here.”

He looks at Yoongi, and you feel your boyfriend nod more than you see him do it. Only then does Jungkook move, and he sits on the side of the bed.

“Do you want to sleep over?” you ask. “We’ve got room for you in the guest room.”

Jungkook chuckles, shying away from your gaze. “I really think it’d be better for me to go home.”

“Would you rather share a bed?” you suggest because you don’t like the way his shoulders are slouching a little.

This time, you entirely miss how Yoongi stiffens next to you.

“I mean…” Jungkook trails off. He tentatively looks at you before letting his gaze drop back to its safe spot on the ground. “I think that’d be great.”

You offer him a small smile. “Then get comfortable,” you tell him. “Yoongi and I were going to eat a little something…”

“Let me cook for you!” Jungkook bursts. He looks just as surprised as you at how loud he spoke because he lets out a small, sheepish laugh. “I’d love to cook for you guys.”

It makes something grow warm in your chest, and you nod. “Sure! I can show you what we have.” You glance at Yoongi. He meets your gaze, cocks an eyebrow, before shrugging his shoulders.

His way of saying he doesn’t care.

“Sounds good,” Jungkook says, and he finally relaxes.

You’re not sure it’s a good thing when you come back to the bedroom, ten minutes later, to find Yoongi sleeping on his side of the bed, even though he said he’d eat with you. But you decide to let him sleep, mostly because he looks peaceful in his slumber, mouth slightly opened and hair ruffled. You press a soft kiss to his temple, barely even touching him so it doesn’t trouble his sleep, and then you return to the kitchen, where you find Jungkook cutting up a red bell pepper.

He offers you a sweet smile, and you look away, moving to one of the stools by the island. You sit before finally looking at him again.

“Hyung isn’t coming?” he asks, as he focuses on the vegetables on the cutting board.

“He fell asleep,” you answer.

Jungkook shoots you a quick look, and that same smile is still on his lips. It does something to you that really feels like it shouldn’t, and you look down at your hands where they’re lying on the counter. You’re wringing your fingers together, something you usually do when you’re anxious.

Jungkook fucked the shit out of you, and yet a smile from him is making you feel nervous.

“We did fuck two orgasms out of him,” Jungkook points out, and he lets out a small disbelieved laugh.

“I came twice, too,” you remind him, cheeks flushing. “You’re the only one who didn’t come twice.”

His features turn dark and dangerous as a smirk chases the sweetness out of his gaze. “Want to remedy the situation?”

Your throat feels dry as you reply, “Not without Yoongi.”

He nods, and the smirk melts away to be replaced by that same sweet smile. “Of course not. I’d never dare go behind his back.”

The sound of the knife hitting the cutting board fills the air for a time, and you watch the muscles of his forearms move under his skin. He’s quick and efficient, and soon enough, he’s pushing the diced vegetables into the pan on the stove. It was already warm, and with the oil he poured inside before, it’s no wonder the food immediately starts sizzling.

As he takes off the plastic wrapping from the chicken breasts you were dreading to have to cook, Jungkook shoots you a look.

“How’s work been going?” he asks you, clearly in an attempt at making small talk.

You work as a graphic designer at a small, family-owned company. You started years ago, before you even met Yoongi, and you absolutely love it. It offers you a lot of liberties, as you can take off whenever you want, and you can also work from home whenever you want to, which you feel like is the best thing about a job nowadays.

You’re luckier than Yoongi, whose company refuses that he works from home. He still loves what he does, at least from what he tells you. You rarely speak about work though, sharing way too many interests outside of work, that you focus on when you are together.

“It’s been great,” you reply, and you watch his profile as he finally gets the plastic wrap undone. He puts the chicken breasts out on the cutting board before throwing away the wrap and the Styrofoam plate. “How about you? Any cool gigs coming up?”

Jungkook is a model. He started off as a boxer, but he stopped three years ago to focus on other stuff, saying he was tired of beating people up and getting beaten up as a living. As far as you know, he still boxes now, but just for fun.

“If I tell you, you have to promise you’ll keep the secret,” he teases, shooting you a wink. “I had to sign an NDA for my latest gig.”

“Damn,” you let out, chuckling. “You’re getting big.”

He smirks, nodding his head. “Seems like I am.”

To be fair, he was big way before that, as the successful boxer that he was.

“So?” you press when he doesn’t say anything else after that.

He busies himself with cutting the chicken into little cubes, tongue darting out to wet his lips once as he visibly struggles to decide if he should tell you or not. You think it’s a lost cause when he stops to stir the vegetables in the pan, still not saying anything.

“You teased me, and now you’re not going to say it?” you complain.

He giggles, shrugging his shoulders. “You know I like to tease.”

You purse your lips together, your cheeks burning just enough for you to look down at your hands again. You’re wringing your fingers together once more, and you think about Yoongi in bed.

You can’t wait to snuggle up to him.

“That you sure do,” you reply to Jungkook as he finishes with the chicken before adding it to the pan.

The sizzling grows louder, but you still hear him as he says, “And you like it too”.

You run a hand through your hair, pushing it behind your ear as you avoid looking at Jungkook. You feel his eyes on you like they’re burning into your skin, and it takes you a moment before you gather the courage to reply.

“I like you being a tease when Yoongi is around.”

He remains silent for a time. You’re not quite sure how he interpreted your words, but you’re surprised when he finally talks, and what he says is, “I’m sorry”.

At that, you look at him. “What for?”

He plays with his piercing, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know?” He motions between the two of you. “Is this weird?”

“Us talking?” He nods, waiting for you to continue. “I don’t know. Yoongi is… somehow jealous, you know? I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

Jungkook is quick to reply. “He’s one of my closest friends. I’d hate making him uncomfortable.”

But now, the silence between you and Jungkook grows awkward, and you avoid his gaze until he returns to cooking, adding gochujang and a bunch of other ingredients to the pan. When he’s done, he turns towards you, though his face is angled towards the ground.

He mutters something that you can’t quite hear over the sound of the food cooking, so you say, “Huh?”

“Calvin Klein,” he repeats a little louder. “My new gig is with Calvin Klein.”

You purse your lips, nodding once. “That sounds… exciting.”

“Not the underwear,” he quickly adds as if you haven’t seen him fully naked twice before. “It’s for their casual clothing line.”

You can’t help the small smile that returns to your lips as you notice how flustered he appears. Clearly, Jungkook is uncomfortable with awkward silences because he starts talking to you about how he got approached, about the shooting, about how one of the reasons why he went to London and Scotland was because he was meeting up with some of their executives at a store opening over there.

He blabbers on long enough for the meal to be ready, and you just listen to him up until he finally puts down a bowl in front of you, which kills his train of thought.

You look down at the food, mouth watering at the smell. “It looks and smells delicious,” you tell him, and the compliment makes him beam.

As expected from someone that has a praising kink, right?

He sits next to you with a bowl for himself, and surprisingly enough, the conversation turns easy as you eat. You laugh along with him, and it feels like your friendship was meant to blossom years ago. Like in another life, you were friends, with a complicity that is rarely matched nowadays.

Except with Yoongi, obviously. What you have with Yoongi is the most precious thing you own, and you know you’ll spend your life with him. After all, you even brought Jungkook into your bedroom life to please him, to offer something that you knew Yoongi was going to love.

And you think he does. It does seem like it, as he’s been more affectionate now. Sometimes, you think it’s a little surprising that he has that side to him, because he’s never really been like that since the honeymoon phase died of its own volution five years ago.

When you’re done eating, you clean the dishes, laughing as Jungkook voluntarily splashes water on you. It turns into a little fight, and you’re both unaware of how loud you’re being. You don’t notice Yoongi leaning against the wall, looking at the two of you with a thoughtful expression on his features. You don’t notice as it turns a little somber, and he returns to the bedroom, feeling like he needs to sleep the feeling off.

He’s convinced it’s going to be better in the morning.

No, you don’t notice any of it, too focused on how Jungkook is now twirling the towel to whip you with it.

“Don’t you dare,” you tell him, holding up your hands between the two of you in mock surrender. You point a finger towards him. “Don’t you dare, Jeon Jungkook. I’ll go get Yoongi, and he’ll beat your ass.”

His mischievous smirk only grows. “I’d like to watch hyung try. I’m the boxer.”

You tilt your head to the side, choosing another approach. “Please, Jungkook.” You offer him your best impression of puppy eyes, but it doesn’t deter him as he takes another step towards you. “I swear to God, if you take another step…”

You never finish your sentence because Jungkook jumps towards you, startling you, and you let out a loud yelp as you run away from him. It’s no surprise when he catches up to you and wraps a strong arm around your middle, which makes you scream again.

“Stop, we’ll wake Yoongi up,” you say, pushing on his arm.

He lets you go, and you turn to look at him again. He avoids your gaze, and all his playfulness is entirely gone, replaced by regret.

“What’s wrong?” you can’t help but ask, even though you know exactly what’s wrong.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he points out, motioning between the two of you. “Gosh, what am I doing?”

He takes a step back, doe eyes widened in fear. You watch him as he drops the towel on the counter, folding his arms on his chest. He then seems infinitely confused, running a hand through his hair and playing with his piercing.

You watch Jungkook’s anxiety happen all in slow motion before you finally speak. “Jungkook, it’s fine. We didn’t do anything wrong.”

At least you don’t think you did. Have you?

“I know, it’s just… maybe we shouldn’t be chilling, just the two of us together without Yoongi-hyung,” he says. “I think it’d be better that way.”

You agree with him, that much you know. You nod, saying, “Sure, JK, that works for me”.

He pulls at his piercing some more, tongue darting out of his mouth to soothe the sting. “I think I’ll hit the guest room for now. Is that okay with you?”

“Of course!” you quickly reply, because you too know that you shouldn't share a bed with Jungkook tonight. You glance towards the hallway leading to the guest room. “Let me just put some fresh sheets on the bed.”

He shakes his head, eyes still widened. “No, it’s okay. Just hand the sheets to me, and I’ll take care of it.”

You don’t know what good it would do you to insist, so you agree and go grab the sheets for him. When you hand them to him, Jungkook looks just as nervous, and he avoids your gaze like the plague.

“Thank you,” he says.

You smile, even though he isn’t looking at you and can’t see. “No problem. I hope you’ll sleep well.”

He nods. “It’s a good thing I’m not sleeping with you guys,” he says rather awkwardly. “I snore. Like a lot. You would have hated it.”

It’s somehow endearing, and it makes you realize just how much it’s good that he indeed isn’t going to sleep with you and Yoongi.

“Oof yeah,” you let out, not knowing what else to say.

He meets your gaze once, nods his head, and then says, “Good night. I’ll let you go with your boyfriend.”

And then he’s hurrying away, disappearing in the hall to get to the guest room he’s already slept in twice before, after dinners you and Yoongi hosted where he got a little too drunk to leave. You watch him go, wondering how it is that life has changed so much that now you and Yoongi are fucking him, which makes you think of nuzzling your face in your boyfriend’s neck as you sleep.

It’s a relieving feeling, and you sigh softly before moving back to the sink, where you quickly finish doing the dishes before heading to your bedroom, turning off the lights on the way. You tiptoe in semi-darkness as you enter your room after a quick trip to the bathroom to wash yourself and brush your teeth. You take off the shirt you’re wearing before getting rid of your underwear as you move closer to the bed.

You carefully get in, moving until you can pull the comforter over you before you decide to roll closer to Yoongi. He’s a side sleeper, and he’s facing the wall away from you, but you still cuddle up to him, pressing a kiss on his back. You don’t think he’s awake, and you hesitantly wrap an arm around his waist. He feels a little stiff, until he sighs and grabs your hand.

“You’re not sleeping?” you ask in a whisper.

“No.”

You snuggle closer then. “I’m sorry if Jungkook and I were loud,” you say after a moment of silence. “We didn’t realize, and then we both felt bad.”

He doesn’t say anything, just brushes his thumb on the side of your hand. It makes your heart constrict in your chest even more, guilt seeping into your bones.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat.

“It’s okay,” he says then. “It’s normal if you guys grow more comfortable around each other after we’ve had sex. I’m glad that you get along with him.”

You don’t know what to reply to this. All you can do is press another kiss to the back of his shoulder. “You know I love you, right?”

You can hear the smile when he answers, “I know you do”.

“If you want us to keep the relationship just to bedroom stuff, I’d understand.”

He grabs your hand, and pulls it up to his mouth so he can press a soft kiss to your knuckles. “It’s okay, baby. It really is.”

You nod against him. “Alright. Okay.”

There’s another long silence, and you’re expecting him to have fallen asleep by the time he actually says, “Maybe we should establish some ground rules before next time?”

“That sounds like a good idea,” you whisper against your boyfriend’s warm skin. “Just to make sure everyone is comfortable.” At that, Yoongi chuckles. “What?” you ask.

“And you need to stop trying to make him fuck me, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want it,” Yoongi answers, and you feel your cheeks burn.

“Gosh, I’m just trying to make you feel good,” you mumble.

Yoongi laughs again, and he turns until he’s lying on his back. “I know you are.”

“Are you?”

He presses a kiss to your forehead this time. “I am. I hope you are too.”

You snort, scooching even closer to him, if that’s possible. “Of course I am.”

“Cause he fucks you good?”

“Yoons,” you whine. “You fuck me just as good.” You pause before specifying, “You guys together fuck me good.”

“Of course we do,” Yoongi says, and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

It makes you chuckle, and you prop yourself up on an elbow, one hand blindly searching for his cheek. Once you’ve cupped it, you lean in, aiming for his lips. You land on the corner of them, yet you still press a sweet kiss.

“I love you so much, Yoons,” you breathe against him.

He turns his head slightly, just enough so that your mouths connect and move in unison for a time, the way they’ve always moved together. When the kiss ends, Yoongi says, “I know. Love you too.”

Even though you’ve heard him say it a thousand times before, your heart still melts in your chest, going just a little faster.

You lie back down, putting your head on his chest as he wraps an arm around you. Though you’ve never been a couple that’s big on cuddling to fall asleep, you still find yourself slowly dozing off like this, the constant and rhythmic beats of his heart slowly dragging you to the land of sweet dreams.

Prev | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

Taglist: (add yourself to the taglist here)

@chimchimmarie | @pamzn

583 notes · View notes

wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 5 months

Note

Jeff Davis just ruined everything! Everything! Do you know if there's any fix-it fics yet!

AND

Anonymous asked:

Love your page! Can you recommend fix-it fics for the movie?

AND

angelofthetrenchcoats asked:

hii

do you know if there are any tw movie sterek fix it fics yet?

thanks❤️😂

“Take me back.” by Theo4thestars

(1/? I 979 I Not Rated I Sterek)

Stiles finds out Derek is dead. He’s hurt. He finds out Allison is alive. He’s never been more happy. He’s conflicted so he goes home.

we're all burning. by unholyturtle

(2/2 I 2,400 I Explicit I Sterek)

Stiles came home and Derek did not die.

Broken Things (It's Complicated) by PalenDrome (nerdherderette)

(1/1 I 3,880 I General I Sterek)

It's been fifteen years, and Derek still has feelings about that Jeep.

Crawling back to you by ads1008

(1/1 I 10,901 I General i Sterek)

Stiles gets a call from Eli that Derek has died. He runs home in time to be at the funeral where Eli barrels into him crying shaking like he is five years old again after a nightmare. Stiles holds him tight looking up at the pack he walked away from years ago. The ones that hurt him and his family too many times to count. His eyes landed on Scott, who looked sad and sorry. Stiles didn’t care for his pity. Rage boiled in him at just seeing his ex-best friend. The man that almost ruined everything for them 15 years ago but it looks like he already did. Stiles pulled Eli away, handing him off to his dad. Stiles walked over landing a hard punch to Scott’s temple.

“What did you do?” Stiles shouted.

Stiles knew he had to bring back the love of his life and the father of his son, with the help of Lydia and the rest of the gang. Stiles must fight one last demon of his own to bring Derek back. By doing so, secrets of the past fifteen years will be told. His young son, Eli, will know more about himself and his parents than either Stiles or Derek was ready to share.

We'll Take On The World by lookingforatardis

(1/1 I 26,000 I Mature I Sterek)

Derek grew quiet, eyes searching Stiles’ face. “It’s called True Mates.” “Do you think we…” he started, but cut himself off. He wasn’t sure he wanted an answer. “Maybe,” Derek nodded anyway, eyes cast down. Their hands were intertwined on the bed where they sat, and Stiles traced Derek’s knuckles with his fingers. “How would we know?” Derek sighed and leaned over to rest his head against Stiles’ shoulder. “There’s always a sign."

No More Martyr Bullsh*&t by Arieanna

(12/12 I 35,230 I Mature I Sterek)

Thank god someone had the brains to call him. Now he was running through the preserve to that stupid stump, hoping that he gets there before it's too late and he loses his reason for living.

"X" marks the spot by mmspring

(3/3 I 39,796 I General I Sterek)

"Please, bring my nephew back" Stiles stays silent for a second, before clearing his throat and speaking again. "Do you remember that time when you asked if someone in this town could stay dead?" he asks, and waits for the other man to confirm that he, indeed, remembers. "Well, let's hope the answer is still no".

Stiles has to save the day once again, but he doesn't want the recognition for it.

Nothing Ever Stays Dead by Violet_Michelle

(22/22 I 79,189 I Mature I Sterek)

Following Derek’s death, Eli took the Jeep and went to find the only person he thought could get his dad back.

Yoda Said It Best by OKDeanna, thePurebloodPrat

(21/21 I 99,128 I Explicit I Sterek)

Derek Hale knows he as a problem. Contrary to what some might believe, he isn’t stupid. He knows the Jeep has meaning to him, real meaning. The kind of meaning that he doesn’t want to think about, let alone stop and have to analyze. Except… his son keeps pushing him about it, prodding at him, and then before Derek knows it, Stiles is back in Beacon Hills, driving the one thing in the world Derek wishes he never had to set eyes on again. If Derek isn’t careful, he could open himself up to a fall, and that would affect more than just his son but also his own traitorous heart. Because with Stiles back, Derek finally has hope again, and its making him want the things he knows better than to ever crave: a home, a future, a life—love.

One-Sentence Premise: To find the happiness they both crave, a lonely stressed-out single dad and a disillusioned FBI agent must confront their shared past and accept the feelings that have always existed between them.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #dad!derek #bamf!stiles #anon

274 notes · View notes

codfanficedits · 5 months

Text

Before the mask - Part 1

Pairing: Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Because Simon wasn’t born as Ghost.

Wordcount: 2033 | Rating: E! (18+ only!)

Warnings: Author has daddy issues and not the sexy kind, listening to masturbation.

A/N: Simon would be around 22/23 in this fic, so it would be set around 2015 ish? Anyway, I didn't have loving parents and I am projecting here.

Being in the military had it’s perks, you were free from your parents, you had worked hard enough, long enough to be rewarded with your own little quarters, and it wasn’t much, but it was yours, enough to retreat after a long day, a hard mission, it was yours.

The downsides? The walls were paper thin, you could hear your neighbour shitting after taco night, but eventually you got used to it. You were just really lucky the neighbour of your right side was Simon. The two of you had been working together for a while now, and it was safe to say that you had become friends.

On the other side of the wall was indeed Simon. Simon who had promised himself to never get attached again. He had escaped his childhood home, and he wanted to keep himself from getting hurt again.

That was until you came along, you with your soft smile, with your sparkling eyes, your beautiful hair. And if you were just beautiful, he could’ve fucked you and ghosted you afterwards, but no, no you were not only pretty, you were kind, thoughtful, smart and sure as hell feisty.

Feisty enough to bite back when needed, to stand up for yourself or others, but sweet enough to remember his favourite sweets, or his birthday, and he could feel himself falling for you.

He realised it at breakfast, he had been wanting to see you, to talk to you, and you weren’t there, and for the first time, it felt as if something, someone was missing. A small piece of his soul being ripped away from him and he had to pretend all day that it didn’t bother him, while his mind was flooding with his worries. He didn’t recall there being any missions, and surely you would’ve told him if you were to be on leave? Or worse, leave the army?

He could feel the tension leave his shoulders when he finally saw you again, a scowl on your face when you left the toilets. Now that he thought of it, he hadn’t heard your alarm go off this morning, and the fact that you were the only cleaning toilets told him that you had overslept. With a silent chuckle he promised himself that he would wake you up every morning, to safe you from such horror.

And it wasn’t like he didn’t want to confess, he just simply didn’t know how to. Every time he wanted to, every time he wanted those words to leave his lips, you just had to look up at him with those sweet, sweet eyes and he couldn’t. His voice would leave him, and his courage was nowhere to be seen, so he just kept quiet, tried to keep you close by telling you stupid jokes, army humour as he called it.

To make matters worse, the walls were thin, too thin, he could hear you stir in your sleep, he could hear you on those lonely nights where your hand wandered underneath your blanket, and he would promise himself to not listen to it, to give you that privacy, but after the third time he couldn’t. He just had to listen to make sure that you weren’t calling out his name, because if you did, he would’ve come to the rescue.

But you didn’t, not once did his name leave your pretty lips, just soft moans and whiny whimpers. It was enough for him, enough to make his own fist twitch in a desperate need for you, his hips bucking up in an attempt to keep his bed from creaking too much, he couldn’t have you hear him listen to you.

And tonight would be no different, Simon had made himself comfortable in his bed, waiting for your little ritual to start, his eyebrow raising when he didn’t hear those sounds he was so familiar with. Instead your voice was a hushed whisper and he couldn’t make out what you were saying. It frustrated him, who were you talking to, and why?

His blood ran cold when he could hear the loud laughter of a man, he kicked off his blanket, putting on his grey sweatpants before he left his room. Fist knocking on your door while he tried to calm himself.

You weren’t his, and he had no right to be so possessive over you, but what were you thinking? Seeking out the solace of another man while he was right there?

He would, of course, pretend that it would be about safety, did you know how dangerous it was to bring a random stranger into the base? Did you even think about it.

He knocked again, more urgent. “Open the door.”

You opened the door, an apologetic smile on your face. Your eyes fixate on Simon and he can feel the anger fading away. You looked so sweet, so innocent.

You on the other hand, had no clue what he was thinking, you had been on a skype call with your family, and in all your joy you had forgotten to keep track of your volume level.

"Was I too loud?" You asked. "I'm sorry."

His look is stern, his fingers clenched into an almost white-knuckled grip. Yet there's something else lurking on the verge of those eyes, the beginnings of something...painful, an emptiness from the core of his identity.

"Don't apologize," he replies softly. His voice, too, is low and breathy. But there's a calmness there, the lack of which would've set you on edge. "Just...let me in."

"Yeah sure, sure." You said as a response to his request. You stepped to the side, to let him in. "I'm on a Skype call with my family. My dad laughs really hard. So you might have heard him"

An idea pops up in your head, you knew a thing or two about his backstory, about his childhood. And it always made you really sad that he never experienced the true love a family could give.

"Want to say hi?"

"Mhm," is his only initial response, but as he steps inside your room, he's greeted by your smile, your soft, almost angelic eyes. Those, for a moment, have him mesmerized. He almost forgets what he's doing here. Then he remembers, when you offer him a chance to meet the people who bring you joy.

"Sure." He steps deeper inside your room, but he doesn't leave the door open, closing it behind him, so the two of you are tucked away in your own little world Your eyes light up. "Oh they're going to be delighted to meet you." You had told your parents about him plenty of times, maybe it was the little crush you had, maybe it was just because you were a nice person, who would know?

You grab his hand, dragging him along to your bed, urging him to sit down, before you placed your laptop on your lap, making sure the both of you are on screen.

"Mom, dad, this is Simon!"

He's never had a family like this of his own, and he's both nervous and curious about how they'll react. His expression, then, is one of curiosity. He's seated beside you, his hands clenched against his thighs, the only thing resembling a weapon, an automatic coping mechanism to keep him safe, just as you set the laptop up. His eyes are locked on the screen, the image of your parents on the other side.

You’re a mix of your parents, that much he can tell, and it is fun to see little pieces of them in you. Your father is a more social person, he smiles wide at Simon. Your mother is more reserved, but the smile of your father caused your mother to smile too.

"Good to meet you boy!"

For a moment, he doesn't respond. His eyes are glued to the screen, but they travel back and forth between your parents. The sight of them smiling genuinely, of them together...it fills him with an ache in his chest. And before he knows it, he's fighting back a few tears. God damn it, now is not the time to get all emotional.

He smiles. "It's nice to meet you too," he replies, his voice barely above a whisper.

You look at him as your gaze softens, it is the first time you have seen him so vulnerable, so you give him a little pat on his knee, a little encouragement.

"So." Your father continues. "You've been keeping my girl safe?"

He looks down at your hand for a few seconds, at your gentle touch. That, more than anything, is what makes him crack. He reaches out to grasp your hand, squeezing it a little harder than would be expected.

"I have," he replies in a strained voice, as if fighting with himself. "But, if you don't mind me saying so, she keeps me safe."

The comment gets rewarded with a laughter from your father.

"Ah yes. Our girl has always been a feisty one." You know the shimmer in your father’s eyes way too well and you groan. You have heard this story way too many times before.

"One time, when she was a little toddler, in kindergarten, one of the other kids, a boy, tried to kiss her, and she beat him with a plastic bucket."

The ghost of a small smile appears on Simon's face, although it's quickly replaced by another pang of that ache in his chest. The image...it's almost like seeing you as a kid again, although he never had the chance.

"How many stitches did the boy need?" He teases.

Your father chuckles, and you roll your eyes. You can tell he'll be bringing this up again in a few years, if not sooner.

"None." You grumbled. "But I did bust his lip before they pulled me off."

Your mother chuckled too. "She was such a cute little girl, but such a temperament."

After that your mother gets up, and gets out of your view for a second.

You lean towards Simon a little closer. "If she shows you my baby pictures, I'll lose it." You whispered softly, making sure your parents couldn’t hear.

And sure enough your mother returns, with a large picture book, holding it up for the camera.

It shows a picture of you, no older than four, hair in two pigtails and a big smile on your face, holding a blue bucket. "Can you imagine?"

Your parents aren't the only ones laughing at this memory, as Simon is chuckling softly at the sight of a younger version of you. His eyes are fixed on the picture, the two pigtails, how pure and innocent...

...until you remind him that he's sharing this moment with your family, and not the one he was born into. So he pushes it aside for a moment, and focuses on you. "It's a nice picture," he says softly.

You feel a little bad, knowing his upbringing wasn't the best one, and you give his a little squeeze, an apology and reassuring gesture in one.

Your mother is unaware of his internal struggle, as she holds up a new page. Five year old you in a pink tutu. "She refused to wear anything else for six days." Her mother and father laugh.

Your eyes are gentle, as you squeeze his hand back. And that, it softens the blow of what's happening. Your parents, the memories they share with you, it's something he has never experienced. But sharing it with you, that makes it real enough.

His expression softens as he see the new page. The pink tutu, that smile...He’s almost jealous again.

"She looks so beautiful," He whisper. And his voice, it's filled with that same longing for love.

The gaze of your father softens, a proud smile on his face. "She is."

"I know she can take care of herself but.." her father gets cuts off by the sound of the doorbell. "Excuse me for a second." He said, as he got up.

Your mother closes the picture album. "You know Simon, next time you two are allowed on leave you should come with her."

154 notes · View notes

fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic · 2 months

Text

Good Omens Fic Rec: I'm Beginning to See the Light

There was Crowley - the paragon of cool, the overlord of apathy, breezing easily through each and every one of their exchanges and giving no fucks while doing so; then there was the anachronistic, cloying Aziraphale, trying and failing not to live life like a Thomas Hardy protagonist, and giving many fucks indeed. Or: Aziraphale has quite the pash on his colleague Crowley, who seems resolutely disinterested in him. As their annual Christmas party progresses, it appears that Crowley may not be as disinterested as Aziraphale first thought.

Length: 15,991 words

AO3 Rating: Explicit / Spice Level 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Best for: After Dark, Romance, Fluff, Human AU

Triggers: None

Read it here, fic by ineffabildaddy

*Minor Spoilers* Oh hello, did you want some body worship and honestly the best trans sex I've ever read?

This fic, let's be real, is a PWP. Yeah it flirts with a plot and backstory for these two work colleagues, but it is just the backdrop for their gorgeous bedroom activities. Crowley straight up worships Aziraphale here. Every bit of Aziraphale's body that he's ever felt shame for is touched, and kissed, and loved. It's really emotional, the idea that your "flaws" will be seen as praiseworthy felt so safe and healing to me. Every scar, stretch mark, and ounce of fat is paid attention to and loved. Aziraphale being trans is everything and nothing. It's both just a body, and a body that was created and worthy of honor. Crowley is the ultimate service top here, and him freely using pet names made me weak. Like why you guys gotta write the dirtiest smut that makes me want to cry?? I didn't ask for all these feelings in my porn!

Very explicit after dark read, it's very tactile and visually rich. It's definitely one that you will feel. I really loved this. It's so healing and comforting. It shows us that trans sexuality is beautiful, desirable, and wanted. Something to be praised and cherished.

Read it here, fic by ineffabildaddy

P.S. Here's a pair of quotes that I can't stop thinking about

"Aziraphale said the word ‘never’ perhaps more than any other - most often to himself. The idea that certain things would never happen was both an icy blade in the gut and a snug compression bandage simultaneously."

and "His most precious and ached-for 'never' was to have this; this concrete knowledge that he was desired, that he was cared for, that he was seen. It was simply too good to be true that it was the man of his dreams who had finally promised to remove this file from his 'never' folder and tear it into infinitesimal pieces."

someone put me down already

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #fanfic rec #aziracrow #good omens fic rec #aziraphale x crowley #I'm Beginning to See the Light #ineffabildaddy #short #five flames #after dark #romance #fluff #body worship #trans character #human au #christmas #faves of the blog

127 notes · View notes

nocasdatsgay · 18 days

Text

The Siren’s Song

Day 5 of @polyacotarweek Favorite Tropes (Sex Pollen and Mating Bonds 😉)

Pairing: Nesta/Cassian/Azriel | Rating: E | Word Count: 2667

Poly Week Master Post | Read here on Ao3

Warnings: Unadulterated smut. Sex Pollen Trope. Slight dub con

Summary: Nesta Cassian and Azriel go to the middle to investigate an illegal trade route that is involved in some assaults in the Court of Nightmares. But instead of a headquarters they stumble upon the very field that’s being harvested.

AN: This lovely fic Called I Pretend You’re Mine All the Damn Time by daycourtofficial is what reminded me of how much I love the sex pollen trope. If you like Az/reader and this trope, go read it.

Tagging: @saltedcoffeescotch @hieragalbatorixdottir @ysmtttty @mybestfriendmademe

“The camp is empty.” Azriel landed beside Nesta and Cassian.

She took in her surroundings; the small clearing with a few tents and a small campfire in the middle was indeed empty. They’d been tracking the trade route for a week and planned on ambushing them. Instead they found nothing.

“Maybe they knew we were coming.” Cassian crossed his arms. “Wasted all this time for nothing.”

“Or maybe something else found them first,” Nesta pointed to the tent on the right, which had the sides shredded.

She looked back at Cassian and Azriel, both shooting each other concerned looks. The Middle was not a safe place. Nesta knew that first hand. She walked over to the tent; she could smell something rotten- food it looked like. The tent was full of supplies left behind. Something definitely came here and took out the residents.

“Found a map.”

She moved out of the tent to see Az and Cassian looking over a large roll of paper. Az lowered it so she could look as well. It was a crude drawing of The Middle, some blank spaces with others filled in. A circle over an area in red caught her eye.

“Maybe they went there,” she pointed at the circle. “They marked it for a reason.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to check it out,” Cass looked to Az. He didn’t disagree. “Let’s go so we can head home. I’m tired of this spy shit.”

“It’s only been a week. Big baby,” Nesta teased.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The flight was short. Nesta held tight to Cassian as they flew. She too was ready for this to be over. The field seemed no different than any other they’d come across. Az signaled for them to land, Cassian following wordlessly. As they got closer the grass seemed to be speckled with white. It wasn’t until they landed that they realized the whole field was covered in small star shaped flowers.

No sooner than he let go of Nesta, placing her on her feet, Cassian began sneezing repeatedly. Nesta stepped back and yellow pollen kicked up around her feet.

“Don’t move,” Az said, his shadows flurrying about him.

“Why?” Nesta shifted and kicked up more pollen, making Cassian sneeze again.

“Stop Nesta,” Az panicked. Nesta and Cassian stood still as stone. “We need to leave. Right now.”

“Why?”

Cassian sneezed so hard his wings flew out. Pollen kicked up high, covering all three of them. Az cursed and he moved, pollen flurrying around him and his shadows. He grabbed Nesta and Cassian and pulled him into his shadows.

They reappeared at the House of Wind.

“We need to bathe this shit off, now,” Az beckoned them to follow.

“Azriel, what the hell is this shit,” Cassian tried to dust himself off. It only smeared on his leathers.

“It’s,” Az looked pained. “It’s Siren’s Dust.”

“What does that mean?” Nesta felt Cassian stiffen beside her.

“That shit is a myth,” Cassian snapped. He sneezed again.

“What does it do?”

Nesta watched Az tug at his collar, his shadows disappearing under his wings. Nesta didn’t realize she, too, was tugging at her leathers. Cassian scratched his neck beside her.

“We need to bathe and lock ourselves in our rooms until it gets out of our system.”

“Neither of you are telling what it is,” Nesta stomped over to Az and his wings flared out.

“Nes don’t,” he stepped back. She did not stop and Az couldn’t help himself; he grabbed her, shoving her against the wall. “Cassian, come get her out of here.”

Heat flared through her. She could smell his arousal and surprisingly her own. Azriel’s pupils were blown and he still looked pained. She wanted to kiss him. She looked to Cassian, he was walking to them and her gaze dropped down to the bulge between his legs. He was turned on too. Nesta let out a noise- a sigh and a moan. Az whimpered.

It clicked for Nesta what was happening. “It’s an aphrodisiac,” she panted.

“Yes,” Az said through gritted teeth. “We need to get it off of us and wait it out.”

Cassian stopped beside them. He too looked pained. But instead of grabbing Nesta, he gripped Az’s hair and pulled him up into a kiss. The two males sighed loudly as their lips met. The lightning of want shot through her and she almost fell to her knees. Azriel was the only thing holding her up. Cassian pulled back and rested it on Azriel’s forehead, both of them panting.

“Take us to the guest room,” Cassian panted. “The one with the shower.”

Az nodded and shadows enveloped them all once again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Nesta had to be dreaming.

Her whole body was on fire and she was in the middle of Cassian and Azriel in the shower. She had to be dreaming. In what world would she be so lucky? Azriel’s hand was between her legs, rubbing her clit while she could feel his cock rubbing against her ass. All while she stroked Cassian’s and kissed him with her tongue in his mouth.

They’d long since washed off the pollen. They somehow managed to keep their hands to themselves until Az decided to grab her and lick at her neck. Now they were all moaning, trying to get each off. Az explained through heated kisses that it would take a while to wear off. He even tried to leave but Nesta and Cassian both weren’t having it.

She came first, those textured fingers making her pull away from Cassian yell as she clenched around nothing. Cassian and Azriel both groaned, Cassian coming all over her hand and Az on her back. She could hear the thuds of their wings trying to flare out, which made her laugh loudly.

That cleared their head but not by much. Just enough for them to rinse off and get out of the shower to dry. Nesta was putting her hair up when she turned to find the boys kissing again. Heat bloomed between her legs again.

“You two look like you’ve done this before,” her voice sounded as hazy as she felt.

Az pulled back, Cassian went for his neck. “We,” Az groaned, his cock hardening again. “We’ve fucked before, Nes.”

That made Nesta weak in the knees. “I want to watch,” she replied.

“No,” Cassian pulled away and gave her a look that made her cunt throb. “No, I think we want you with us.”

Thank the cauldron, the guest bed was huge. Az was tossed by Cassian onto the bed and Nesta crawled up between his legs. Gods his cock was pretty and everything she imagined. She didn’t ask as she took him into her mouth, both of their moans filling the air.

Nesta bobbed her head and hollowed out her cheeks when she felt the bed sink behind her. She pulled back, cursing as Cassian pushed into her from behind.

“Keep going, baby,” Cassian said, thrusting into her again. “I wanna see my good girl choke on his cock.”

She clenched around him- when was the last time he called her a good girl? She did as she was told, taking Azriel’s cock in her mouth and forcing it down her throat. Az let out a strangled curse and his hands went into her hair.

“So good, Nes,” Az panted. “Gods Cassian, she beautiful.”

“Wait until you see her ride you,” Cassian chuckled. He grabbed her hips to hold her still while he thrusted into her harder.

Nesta almost came at the thought of Az buried deep in her. She pulled back and licked up his length, swirling her tongue on the head. Cassian’s movements were getting sporadic. Something cold touched her clit- she looked between her legs to see a shadow swirling above as Cassian fucked her.

“I knew it,” she looked up to see a smug Az. “I knew you used them for sex.”

Az didn’t say anything but the shadow and Cassian hit her both just right that she squealed.

“Come on, pretty girl,” Cassian said behind her. “Come on my cock while you have Az in your mouth.”

She nodded and took Az back down her throat while she used both hands to hold herself up. It didn’t take much more for her to come, a muffled yell on Azriel’s cock making him come down her throat. Cass was right behind them both, thrusting deep into Nesta, spilling in her with his wings flared out.

Another brief moment of clarity passed between them all. She pulled her mouth off Az and he scooted up the bed looking sheepish. She wiped the seed and drool off her lips and Cassian eased out of her. He moved off the bed and she could hear him walk to the bathing room again, probably to get a towel.

“I’m sorry,” Az pulled his legs up to cover himself. “You two should go, it only lasts a few more hours I think.”

Cassian came back and wiped up the mess between Nesta’s legs.

“But I still want to ride you,” she said bluntly as she sat up on her knees.

“That’s the pollen talking,” Az shook his head.

Cassian laughed loudly. “No, Nesta’s been wanting this for a while.”

“I’ve had two males before.” Nesta couldn’t be bothered to be ashamed. “But they weren’t either of you.”

The pollen was hitting her again. Nesta could smell arousal spiking in the air and heat flushing her body again. She looked at Az with her piercing silver eyes.

“Do you want us to leave?”

“No,” he said immediately. “Gods no.”

“Then let me ride you. I want to feel you inside me, Az.”

Az cursed but lowered his legs, his length had hardened once again. She crawled over him and pressed her chest to his and kissed him. He tasted as good as she expected. His hands grabbed her ass, kneading the flesh and forcing her cunt to rub against his cock. She pulled back and reached between them, wasting no time sinking down onto him.

He felt so different from Cassian- longer but not as thick. Still it felt right. She let herself adjust, head falling back with a sigh. She didn’t notice Cassian crawl up the bed beside them. His wings were tucked in, his own cock hard and curled up to his chest.

“Okay pretty girl, show Azzie what you got.”

That first lift and drop made her wince. Az was longer than Cassian by only a small bit but it was enough to make a difference.

“You okay?” Az whispered.

She nodded. “I’m not used to the length.” Cassian busted out a laugh and Az’s cheeks darkened. “Just need to not overestimate it.”

She sat up straighter and did it again. It didn’t hurt that time. It was easy to find a rhythm, pleasure coiling in her stomach and thighs quickly. Az used one hand to cup her breast and pinch her nipple. The other reached over to stroke Cassian’s cock.

She watched one shadow come up onto her other breast, brushing her nipple and another slide down Az’s stomach to settle between her legs again. This orgasm was slower- not as strong but still made her yell when she broke, throbbing tight around Az. He and Cassian both groaned, Az coming inside her and Cassian spilling on his stomach and Azriel’s hand.

Another bout of clarity and another haze swept over them. They went slower the next round, Nesta on Cassian’s face, licking up their cum while Az rode him behind her. Another round with Nesta on her back, Cass inside her and Az inside him. Nesta stroked their wings at one point, finding all the spots that had her males singing. Hours later there wasn’t a position they hadn’t been in already.

Nesta herself was starting to feel sore and tired, the haze not taking her over like it had before. She laid between Cassian and Azriel, hot and sticky from sweat and other things. Az buried his face against her arm and pillow. Cassian was on his side, a hand resting on her sternum.

“I think it’s over,” Cassian murmured.

“Good, I’m tired,” Nesta closed her eyes. “I don’t think I could walk if we had to do another round.”

She felt Azriel stir beside her, and she opened her eyes to watch him sit up. He didn’t look at either of them.

“I’ll go clean myself up,” he whispered. His shadows seemed agitated as they flurried around him.

“Stay,” Nesta reached out her hand to grab his. She squeezed it tight. “We’ll nap and then clean up.”

Az didn’t move. His wings were tucked in tight. She knew what he was thinking and it made her ache in her chest.

“Please stay,” she whispered.

“I don’t think I can handle it,” he finally replied back, his voice cracking.

“What do you mean?” Cassian sat up on the bed and frowned. “Az don’t-“

“We did what we had to do.” He snapped. He turned and she could see the pain in his eyes. “Just let me go so we can get back to normal.”

“No,” Nesta squeezed his hand again. Her chest ached more. She sat up beside Cassian and looked Azriel in his eyes. “Stay with us. This- this can be our new normal.”

He shook his head. “But you’re mates. And I-”

Nesta didn’t know at that moment what came over her. She just knew Azriel needed to stay, that if she let him leave that bed- she moved to him and pulled him into a kiss. That ache in her chest eased and when he kissed her back something else tightened.

She pulled back with a gasp.

He shook his head with panic in his eyes. “That’s not-“ he looked past her and his shoulders hunched, like he’d been stuck in the chest.

Nesta turned to Cassian and his mouth was dropped open. Did that mean-

“Holy Mother,” Cassian let out a breath.

“It’s a trick,” Az said. She turned to see him shake his head. He tried to pull away and Nesta kept a grip on his arm. “It’s probably a trick of the Siren’s Dust.”

“Az, it’s not,” she shook her head. “Az we’re-“

“Don’t say it,” Az's voice broke. “Please don’t.”

Nesta could feel his grief and worry, a bond now present and wide open. She could feel Cassian too, his worry and love for Az pulsing on her end.

“We’re mates,” she whispered and tears fell down her cheeks. “We are your mates, Azriel.”

“But how?” He asked and looked between them. He watched Nesta let go and put her hand to her chest when he tugged it. “Two mates?”

Nesta felt Cassian shrug, moving on the bed to be closer to them both.

“We can have Amren or Rhys check,” he said, his tone soothing for the panic coming off Azriel. “It’s there. I would know, I have one. Gods, this whole time,” Cassian laughed a little harshly. “We were mates this whole time.”

“Why don’t we clean up,” Nesta offered. “We clean up and have a good nap. Together. Then we can talk about it.”

Az hesitated but agreed. They all got out of bed and cleaned themselves up. As she feared it hurt to walk, but she didn’t regret it. The House changed the sheets when they returned and Cassian was the first to pass out snoring. Nesta looked over at Az, his hazel eyes watching her. She reached out and took his hand, stroking her thumb over his knuckles.

“I prayed for a mate,” Az whispered in the dark. “I never got one. I thought the Mother had cursed me for being selfish.”

“I would know about being cursed, Az,” she whispered back. “We can be cursed together now.”

“We are if he snores like that all the time.”

They both snickered, even more so when Cassian let out a louder snore. Once they finally settled, she sent her love down the bond to Az. Just as she fell asleep she realized he sent her love back.

#acotar #poly+acotarweek2024 #poly+acotarweek2024 d5 #azriel #cassian #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #nesta x azriel #nessriel #cassian x azriel #fave tropes #cw sex pollen

93 notes · View notes

millerscoffee · 9 months

Text

the perfect storm

1.4k drabble / joel miller x f!reader

masterlist

rating: 18+ MDNI

warnings: no outbreak. smutty smut smut. established relationship, masturbation (f, toy), hints of brat tamer!joel, praise kink, no use of y/n

summary: after a boring, rainy morning of joel working from home, you stay nestled in your shared bedroom to have some fun on your own. you're pretty sure you're quiet about it.

A/N: here's a little drabble. i've decided to write more of the "dancing is a dangerous game" fic, and it will indeed be a series. until then, enjoy!

On days like this, dreary as it is, Joel works from home. His days are usually surrounded in piles of blueprints, phone calls, meeting demands. He hates telling people they can't come in, but it's just too dangerous and redundant to send his guys to work in muddy and rainy conditions. They'd just have to go back home, anyway.

Today happens to be your day off, and it's spent in bed for most of the morning. You exhale a sigh of relief when sounds of rain against the windowpane that wakes you.

Joel is home.

Warmth envelops you, but when you roll over you are met with an empty bed. A grumble leaving you when you take note that you're alone – but you're able to hear Joel through the other side of the wall.

Some phone call with a client.

A yawn waves through your lungs, limbs stretching in either direction as you settle into the white duvet set you convinced Joel you both needed. Bat of the eyes, pout of the lips. Compromise.

From the other room, you only hear Joel's replies. On any other occasion Joel is a man of few words, but when he works he's still pragmatic, yet speech is fluid as it drawls out of his southern mouth. Because of this, you assume he's wearing the earbuds you got him as a gift, a grin forms your features at the thought.

You remember giving them to him. He made more of a fuss at how much they cost, how he'd 'just lose 'em anyway, might as well take 'em for yourself.'

On days like this, even in your mindseye, you see his hands – all too big for them – maneuver the buds into his ears.

Fondness pangs your heart.

However, these thoughts were flooded by a way more mischievous thought: if you can't hear his customers speaking, he can't hear you.

This has your hands wandering over your body, over the black silk pajama set Joel got you after you spent weeks looking at it in passing because nothing goes unnoticed with Joel Miller.

Especially when you touch yourself without him in the room.

It's not that Joel minds. He, if anyone, knows the importance of autonomy and not letting people tell you what to do.

Or at least that's what he lets you believe.

It's more... he likes to know. Wants to be around, or be told before you're going to play with yourself. And if he's not around, he wants details and explicit demonstration of what you did. Of how you get yourself off.

Exactly the way your breath hitches when your fingers graze over your clit. What makes your back arch the most.

His eyes hooded, head hung low like a hungry wolf who's been scrapped one too many times. Taking you in, taking account.

You enjoy letting him have this control over you, and it's more or less a jackpot.

So to do this without him knowing, while he has to work, is in itself naughty. Naturally, you must do it.

Besides, it's your body and you can do whatever you choose to with it. You picture the devilish smile of agreement spreading across his face at the roar of your sovereignty.

You're giddy when you lean over to the bedside table, taking out your vibrator from the drawer like a friend that visits. You like to use it on yourself, but Joel likes to use it on you, too and just seeing it sends a shiver over your skin.

It starts off slow. On your back, your legs splay lazily under the sheets – the sound of rain is sensual in nature and it's literally and metaphorically the perfect storm to put you in the mood.

Your arms stretch overhead, letting out a soft yawn as you take in the way your skin feels against the plush fabric of your bedding.

Mornings as slow as this one (at least for you) deserve appreciation. Joel's voice still delivering messages back and forth to clients in the background.

Then, your hands wander. Your nipples over your camisole, across your stomach before finding your tits under the silk. You gasp at way it goes straight to your core with the image of the night before in your brain. Joel's mouth somewhere around the area you're now tugging at, rolling the sensitive nubs between your fingers as they peak and stiffen, and you have to bite down against your lip at thought of him.

Of how a trace of him is constantly left on your skin.

It causes you to rut pathetically against the fabric of your sleep shorts, wishing Joel could take the morning off to spend it with you like this. To have a lazy, rainy morning full of slow, carnal sex and pancakes after. You grow wetter at the thought of him between your legs, pumping his thick fingers inside of you. Spreading them apart, leaving your mouth hanging open and it's so good you can't even make a sound.

"Fuck," your moans are breathy, and you're not sure when, but your fingers slipped between your legs, under the hem of your shorts.

Exploring your folds, you're astonished at just how downright lewd the sounds coming from your cunt are. The undeniable gliding of wet skin tempts you to add one finger and then two inside of you.

You work through the whimper at the fact they're not as thick as his. And even though he's not there with you, you can practically see pride and smugness tug at his features, and that makes you pump harder.

Your eyes roll shut, imagining him hovering over you and the fact that his voice is within earshot not only makes it easier, but makes you more aroused. You purposefully brush the spongy bit inside you and your thighs flutter.

It doesn't take much more, it couldn't possibly. Not when you know your body and how quickly it can take you to reach that place, so your free hand searches for the vibrator. The kind that creates a little suction on your clit. The kind Joel uses on you while he's buried to the hilt in you when it already feels like you've taken your limit.

A third finger stretches and explores you when you place the low vibrations on your clit, instantly gasping when you feel the suction and the way your nipples graze against the texture of clothes.

You could cum like this. Your fingers deep, toy mercilessly suctioning the artificial pleasure right to your core, but you're greedy and you want more. Your tongue passes your lips, screwing your eyes shut even tighter as you turn the intensity up on the toy.

It sucks harder, sounds louder – even under the duvet.

That's it, like you can hear Joel in your ear. All gravel in the pit of his throat, nodding against your temple while he watches you.

That's my girl. You gasp then. Mouth in a perfect 'o' shape you ride out the initial wave of self-gratification. So powerful it causes your ears to ring.

A moan of something that sounds like a mixture of fuck, Joel, please falls off your lips.

You bite your lip into the second wave, your orgasm feeling more and more intense as your fingers almost ache from how tightly you’re clenching around them. Clit instantly too sensitive now for the vibrator, you press it down to the lowest setting before cutting it off. You leave it abandoned somewhere on the bed.

One at a time, your fingers leave your pussy. The lack of connection makes you pout to yourself until you're left rubbing your folds lazily. Basking in the afterglow of what you've given yourself. You hum a low sound of approval, legs brushing against the sheets again. Another yawn.

It's only then you blink your eyes open, squealing in surprise at Joel at the door. You jolt – alert and sat up. Eyes wide, adrenaline kicks in. Who needs coffee?!

Joel's arms are crossed, desire dripping off his brow. Your instinct is to apologise, to promise you were going to tell him. Anything, think of anything.

If your heart wasn't racing from your orgasm, it is now.

But he doesn't let you start your sentence. In fact, you can just barely see a smirk form over his face before he brushes the pad of his thumb against his lower lip and you whimper at that.

You whimper at anything he does now because he’s got you. You know he won't let you get away with it.

Caught in the act and vulnerable.

He stays exactly where he is: broad shoulders leaning against the doorframe. Arms flexing through his shirt.

"Do it again."

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #tlou #by bee #joel miller x reader #the perfect storm

245 notes · View notes

ghuleh-witch · 6 months

Text

Stay ~ Copia x Female!Reader

Fandom: Ghost Rating: Explict Warnings: NSFW, 18+, unprotected sex, blood drinking, oral sex, p in v sex Relationships: Papa Emeritus IV/Copia x Female!Reader Characters: Papa Emeritus IV, Female!Reader Additional Tags: Dracopia, Vampire!Copia, no use of y/n Words: 3,758 Summary: Instead of meeting the Hat Man in your Benedryl-induced dreams, you meet Copia.

Author's Note:

So you know how people say they see the Hat Man when they take Benedryl? Yea, this was inspired by that idea. This is only the second fic I've written in a second-person point of view, and the first fic I've written in the present tense, so I apologize for any mistakes in point of view or tense. I also apologize for any poorly Google-translated Italian you might see in this fic.

AO3

You can’t sleep. The seasonal changes brought about your allergies and the sneezing, sore throat, and watering, stinging eyes made it impossible to get any kind of rest. You sigh as you look at the two small, pink pills in your hand. Benedryl would be sure to put you to sleep and ease your symptoms. You couldn’t sneeze if you were in a coma. You pop the pills and down a glass of water before changing into your pajamas—a pair of cotton shorts that barely covers your ass, and a thin, white t-shirt. You crawl into bed and make yourself cozy in your nest of blankets, pillows, and plushies. The Benedryl starts to take over and as your eyes grow heavy, a yawn escapes you.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but when you wake again it’s dark. The tv show you fell asleep to is long over leaving you stare at a black screen.You sit up and rub your eyes, looking for your phone to check the time. You feel alright physically but you know something is off. As your eyes squint through the darkness of your bedroom, you spot a humanoid shadow in the corner near your window. A chill runs down your spine as fear seeps into your bones. The shadow steps forward and the moonlight illuminates its features. The shadow is a man or something that looks like a man at least. He looks older than you, maybe in his late 40s or early 50s. His face is painted in black and white skull paint and his hair is combed back. The mismatched eyes, one a color you can’t discern, and the other the brightest of white stare into you.

“W-who are you?” You ask, pushing yourself back against your headboard and making yourself appear small. Maybe if you look defenseless whoever is standing in front of you won’t hurt you.

The figure says nothing as he approaches. He’s wearing a dark-colored jacket with fraying around the edges of the lapels, a blue cravat tied around the high-neck black shirt, and tight black pants that were distressed, frayed, and patched dawned his impressive legs. You find the man handsome and fascinating despite the fear surging through you.

The man smirks at you, now just a foot away from the edge of your bed. “I think the better question is what are you doing in my word, cara ?”

“Your world? This is my bedroom,” you said, your eyes darting around as though to confirm you are indeed in your room.

“Hmmm, it may be your room in your world, but you’re not in your world anymore. You’re in mine.” He’s closer, his gloved hands now bracing himself on the bed as he leans forward. He inhales deeply, as though taking in your scent, and lets out a contentful sigh. “You smell delicious, cara .”

“W-what?” You ask, your eyes wide in shock and fear as you lean away from him. “This is a dream. I’ve got to be dreaming.”

He chuckles, a gloved hand reaching up to cup your cheek. “You better hope and pray that you make it safe back to your own world.”

Your eyes snap open as you sit straight up in bed. The sunlight from the window on the other side of the room is filtering through the sheer curtains, bathing your room in warm light. You let out a sigh of relief. “Just a dream,” you say, falling back against your pillows. You feel your heart racing in your chest, but you can’t tell if it is from fear or the touch of the man from your dreams. You might have been afraid, but you get the sense that the man will not actually hurt you.

~~~

It is another night of allergies ruining your rest, and two Benedryl later, you are dozing off once more. You fall into the same dream. You wake up in your dark bedroom and the man from your dream days prior is there once more. He stands at the foot of your bed smirking at you.

“Welcome back, cara ,” he says.

“How did I get back here?” You ask.

“Your mind, eh, reached out for me,” he says as though he’s not sure how you got back there either.

“Who even are you?”

“Forgive me, I haven’t introduced myself. My name is Copia. I already know your name.”

“How?”

“Beh, I have my ways,” he says as he walks around to your side of the bed. “You don’t seem as fearful today.”

“Well this is a dream and you can’t hurt me in a dream. It’s not real,” you say almost smugly.

He lets out a chuckle. “Are you sure about that, tesoro ?”

Doubt fills you at his words. This isn’t just any average dream and deep down you know that. This is different; almost like you fell into a parallel universe.

“Ah I see your gears turning,” Copia says, leaning closer to you. He inhales your scent once more and smiles, flashing your two long, sharp canines. “You still smell delicious.”

Your eyes stay on his mouth and the fangs he bears. “What are you?” You have a suspicion, but you want confirmation.

His lips curve upward. “Why, cara , I am a vampire. I thought it was obvious.”

“It was not,” you respond. “At least not until I saw the fangs.”

“Are you scared?”

You stop and think about it. Were you scared? You aren’t sure how you feel now. Fear isn’t the right word though. You don’t think he will hurt you, and the detail about him being a vampire? That didn’t bother you. If anything, it excites you.

“No,” you answer.

He’s even closer now. He smells of bergamot and cedar and it’s intoxicating. You feel his breath on your skin as he speaks into your ear. “You should be,” he growls as his hand comes to your throat and tilts it away from him, exposing the smooth skin of your neck. You saw a flash of fangs and—

You wake, the sunlight making a bright spot on the ceiling above you that makes you squint. You sit up and look around your room. You’re alone once more.

“Fuck.”

~~~

You want to see Copia again. After the last dream, or visit, you had with him, you find yourself wanting him. You want his hands all over you. You want his fangs and teeth on your skin. You want him all.

Unfortunately, you are out of the medication that allows you to have the strange dreams. As you lay in bed, you will yourself to go to sleep. Your mind focuses on Copia—his face, his eyes, his scent. You’re not sure if you will see him in your dreams tonight. Perhaps he only lives in the dreams Benedryl allows you to have.

Eventually, you fall asleep and wake a few hours later. Your room is dark and quiet. The moonlight gives the room a soft glow. You look at your phone. It’s just after two in the morning. You look around your room and don’t see anyone. Copia isn’t hiding in the shadows waiting to step out towards you. He’s only ever a dream fueled by medication it seems. You sigh sadly as you turn onto your side. You close your eyes, fully intent on falling back asleep, when you hear a voice.

“ Cara ,” it whispers.

You crack your eyes open and sit up. Your window is open now, letting the cool autumn breeze into your room. “What the—” You say sleepily as you move to get out of bed. But before you can swing your legs off the bed’s edge, he’s standing next to you, dressed in the same outfit as the last two visits.

“Is this a dream?” You ask as you blink. You almost want to pinch yourself to see if you are awake.

“No,” Copia says as he steps forward. “I came to your world this time.”

“Why?” you ask, but you already know the answer.

“Because I have to have you, tesoro ,” he says, his gloved hand coming to grip your chin and tilt it upwards to look at him. “ Sono qui per prendere ciò che è mio .” He leans down and his lips meet yours in a bruising and desperate kiss.

Your hand comes up and your fingers curl into his jacket, gripping it tight as your lips move against his. You feel the points of his fangs lightly poking at your lips as he kisses you. His tongue darts into your mouth, tasting you as you let a soft whimper escape your throat. His teeth nip at your bottom lip before trailing down your jawline to your earlobe. You feel this breath in your ear and it sends a delightful shiver down your spine. His fangs graze down your neck before stopping just over your jugular.

A sharp pain causes you to gasp and try to push away from him. It hurts so much and you want to get away. He grips you tightly, holding you to him making escape impossible. It feels like hot daggers piercing your skin and sending molten steel through your veins. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you feel trickles of blood run down your neck onto your shoulders, back, and chest. You feel Copia sucking your life essence into his mouth, and as he keeps going, the pain dissipates into pleasure. The molten steel finds its way to your sex and you can feel your wetness pooling there. As the endorphins flood your body, you moan, tilting your head back even further to give him more access. You feel his lips move upward into a smile against your skin. He seems pleased with how you are taking this now.

His mouth pulls back from your neck and you feel his tongue lick the puncture marks he made. He peppers kisses back up your neck and jaw before coming to your lips again. The coppery taste of your blood lingers on his lips as he crawls onto the bed. Copia's knees are on either side of your thighs as he pushes your upper body back down onto the mattress.

“Tell me to stop and I will. Tell me to go and I will,” Copia says when the kiss breaks. His hand finds its way under your night shift and you feel the leather against your skin.

“Please,” you say almost needily. “Don’t stop. Stay.” The idea of him stopping is unfathomable. You can’t stop. You need to go further—need that release that’s waiting for you. You need him and nothing else.

He says nothing as he pushes your shirt up over your breasts. Your nipples grow hard at the sudden exposure to cool air. He smirks at you before dragging his tongue lazily over one of the buds. Your head lolls back at the sensation just as he takes the nipple between his lips and sucks on it. You let out a gasp as his teeth teases the sensitive skin. Before you become too lost in the feeling, he’s pulling your shirt off, gently helping lift your head and arms to remove it. The shirt drops out of sight on the floor as Copia's lips return to your breasts. As his mouth toys with you, his fingers slip under the waistband of your shorts and panties and finds your center. They slide up and down your slit and it’s like the floodgates open in you. There’s so much pleasure in the simple touch, and you can’t even comprehend how good it will feel when he’s finally in you. He lifts his head and you see his eyes blown out with lust.

“So wet for me,” Copia says as his finger finds your clit. The motion drags a moan from your throat, your eyes rolling back into your head. “And so responsive too.”

“Please,” you whine, arching your hips into his hand.

“Please what, dolcezza ?” He asks. “Use your words. Tell me what you want.”

“You,” you say. “I want your fingers, your mouth, your cock. I want you.”

He chuckles, his tongue flicking over a nipple. “And you will have me,” he says. “When I decide you’re good and ready.”

You whimper knowing he’s going to tease you into oblivion. He’s going to bring you to the edge but pull you back just before you tumble over. He’s going to decide when you can let go and you’re okay with that.

“I wonder if you taste as good as your blood tastes, eh,” Copia says as his lips move from your breasts and presses kisses down your stomach. He pulls his hand out of your pants and tugs your shorts and lacey panties down together. They join the shirt on the floor. Copia’s eyes roam over your body, taking in every detail of you. “ Bella ,” he breathes, his fingers trailing down your chest before slipping between your thighs.

He rubs your clit, making you moan again and buck your hips. Copia smirks as he moves back and lowers his head. He gives you one last look before his mouth is on your pussy. His tongue flicks over your clit and swirls around it as his hands hold your hips down, preventing you from bucking against his face. You moan, your own hands finding their way into his hair and gripping his mousy locks. You’re getting close. You feel the pressure building in your core, aching to snap and come undone. You know you’re not going to last much longer when he slips his tongue into you.

“I’m close,” you pant, your fingers twisting in his hair and tugging. You can feel your release reaching its crest, and before you go over that peak, Copia pulls away from you. You let out a whine in frustration as your fingers are forced to let go of his hair.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he teases, his tongue licking his lips as he looks up at you. His skull paint is smeared around his mouth allowing the pink of his lips to show through the mix of now gray paint. “I’m not done with you just yet, cara .” His mouth moves to your inner thigh and he presses more kisses to your skin. He glances up at you before sinking his fangs into your thigh.

You are prepared for the feeling this time. That sharp, searing pain returns and you let out a whimper, but like the first time he bit you, the pain fades into a feeling of ecstasy. You watch as he takes your blood, his eyes are closed as though he is relishing in the taste. His mouth pulls away from your thigh before he licks the puncture wounds clean.

“I can’t decide what tastes better. You or your blood. Both are exquisite,” he says, crawling back up to you and kissing your lips.

You taste a mix of your blood and your juices on his lips and it turns you on even more. He pulls away from you and is kneeling between your legs. You watch as he pulls the blue cravat from his neck before he peels off the jacket he’s wearing. You sit up and bat his fingers away from the buttons of his shirt. His eyes focus on you as you unbutton his shirt and push it from his shoulders. Your fingers trace the lines of a “666” tattoo about his nipple before replacing them with your lips. You trail kisses along his chest as Copia’s fingers thread through your hair. His fingers curl into a fist and tugs, pulling your head back from his chest so you’re looking into his eyes now. His mismatched eyes bore into yours before capturing your lips with his again.

Your hands slip between your bodies and begin to work the laces of his pants. You take the time to stroke his length that’s straining against the material of his jeans. He lets out a groan at your touch. You pull apart the bow that’s knotted together and begin loosening the laces as his tongue works its way into your mouth. You moan as his hands move yours away from him. Copia pulls back from you and slips off the bed, pushing the tight pants down his legs. He’s not wearing any underwear, you note. He’s bigger than anyone you’ve been with, and your desire skyrockets. You subconsciously lick your lips and his eyes watch you intently.

“Do you like what you see, tesoro ?” He asks as he climbs back into your bed, positioning himself between your spread legs.

“I do,” you answer, looking him up and down. Your pussy throbs with need. You need him more than you ever needed anyone before.

He hums in response as his hands come to rest on the bed on either side of your head, caging you in as he holds himself above you. He leans down and kisses your lips almost tenderly this time. “Last chance,” he said. “I’ll go if you want me to.”

“Stay,” you say. “Stay with me.”

His eyes are ablaze with carnal desire as he pushes himself back up, taking his cock in his hand and stroking it a couple of times before lining up with your entrance. He slides the head up and down your slit. The moan that left your mouth turns into a whimper as you lift your hips in want. He smirks at you, his eyes flicking to your face as he slowly pushes into you. He stretches you, creating a delicious sting as he fills you.

“You’re so tight,” he pants as he bottoms out in you. “ Cazzo …”

You are in complete bliss. You didn’t think it was possible to feel as good as you do now. “You feel so good,” you breathe. “Oh god, you feel so good.”

He pulls out slowly, almost as though he’s teasing you on purpose before he pushes back into you. You moan as your legs wrap around his waist, pushing him deeper into you. He lets out a low groan, his eyes closing in a moment of bliss before he begins to move. His thrusts are hard and fast making you whimper and moan. Your eyes close, taking in every little detail of how this feels when you feel his hand on your cheek.

“Open your eyes, cara,” he says in a low voice. “I want to see your eyes when you cum.”

You obey and open your eyes to meet his. His hand falls away from your cheek and moves to your breast, massaging it and pinching the nipple as he continues to move in and out of you. You let out a small gasp at his touch and watch as his fingers lightly trail down your stomach and to your mound before finding your clit. He readjusts one of your legs, putting it up on his shoulder and allowing him to push into you even deeper.

You cry out at the new sensation, your fingers gripping the sheets under you while one of your hands grips his arm. Your nails dig into his skin so hard you think you’ll draw blood. You feel your core tighten as a familiar pressure begins to build in you. As he begins to stimulate your clit, you can’t help but let go. Your orgasm is intense as it burns through you, wiping your mind of all thought and making you see white for a second. You clench around his cock, making him moan as he stills in you for a second before continuing to fuck you.

“That’s right, tesoro , cum on my cock,” he purrs. “ Cazzo , you look divine when you cum.”

You can’t form a single response. All you can think about is how he is fucking you and how good it feels. “Oh god,” you moan as he continues to drive into you. His thrusts are relentless as he buries his face in your neck, nipping at the bite marks he created. He reopens the wound and drinks from you again, his cock twitching inside you. You start to feel a second orgasm building in you as he takes your blood once more.

He moans as he pulls away from your neck, his lips bloody as he kisses you hard. His thrusts become erratic and you know he’s close to losing it as well. His face scrunches as though he’s concentrating on something before thrusting into you sharply one…two…three more times. He’s panting something in Italian that you can’t make out. You feel him spill inside you and it’s enough to set off your own orgasm, milking him of all he has to give. He lets out a low groan as his forehead rests against yours, his eyes closed.

The two of you are silent allowing the sound of your heavy breaths to fill the room. He opens his mismatched eyes and stares into yours.

“ Sorprendente ,” he whispers, his lips finding yours again. He pulls out of you and moves to lie next to you. You let out a small whine at the loss of him before you roll onto your side to look at him. You know he isn’t going to stay. This isn’t his world after all.

“Will I see you again?” You ask, hoping and praying you will.

“You will,” he confirms, his gloved hand resting on your cheek. “I wish I could stay, but the sun will be up soon and I must return to my own world.”

“When?”

“Soon.”

You didn’t know how soon was soon, but you trust him.

“Sleep, cara , I’ll stay as long as I can,” he says, this thumb stroking your cheek gently. It’s as though he has a hold over you and you obey, closing your eyes even though you didn’t want to. You feel his hand leave your face and rest on your hip as you slip into sleep.

When your eyes open again, it’s daylight out and Copia is gone. You’re convinced it was all a dream, but when you start to come to your senses, you realize you’re naked and your pajamas are still on the floor. You slip out of bed and go to the mirror hanging on your closet door. There are two small puncture marks on your neck and on your thigh. Your finger runs over the tiny bumps on your neck and you smile. You will see him again and you hope it’s in his world so you can stay as long as you wish.

Translations: Cara: dear/darling Tesoro: treasure Sono qui per prendere ciò che è mio: I’m here to take what’s mine. Dolcezza: sweetness Cazzo: fuck Sorprendente: amazing

147 notes · View notes

dreamingofep · 3 months

Text

Sinned Awakening pt. 21🩸

An AU Elvis fic

(Vampire!Elvis/Vampire Austin! Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Getting promoted to be Elvis full time housekeeper, you realize the man holds secrets beyond beliet and your undeniable attraction makes you tear the unknown. [Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, SMUTTT, mentions of blood/gore!!!

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7.1k

A/N: Hello everyone happy Sunday! Thanks for convincing me to keep writing! The support over this fic is amazing so thank you so so much! Exciting stuff is happening in this part and really hope you enjoy where I’ve taken this! Please comment, message, and reblog if you feel so inclined ❤️

A reminder, this is Vampire!Elvis so there is going to be mentions of blood/gore from here on out. If that's not your thing, sorry but it's needed for the story.

If you'd like to start from the beginning, start here I hope you enjoy and message and comment what you think.

May 1973

Spoiled was an understatement of how you were getting treated by Elvis these last few weeks. You didn’t deserve such things, but he was insistent. You two flew around the country, getting to see things you never thought you’d get the chance to in this life. Elvis canceled his upcoming tour to spend time with you and his manager just about lost his head about it. Elvis gave him one look that just about drained all the color out of his face when he said no to him. He never got questioned about it after that.

Elvis was sure he was going to give you every human experience you wanted to have. Part of you was excited to try new things, taste new foods, and see places you never knew existed. There was another small part of you would miss certain things. You’d miss the warmth of the sun, and the comfort of a soft blanket wrapped around you. All of it would be so different for you. An unknown world was going to be unleashed and it was going to be a huge adjustment. Elvis was gracious and patient with you, assuring you everything was going to be alright. You believed every word he said, knowing he would be by your side through the entire time.

He kept you up all night making deep, passionate love to you at all hours of the night. You weren’t going to miss sleep that’s for sure. He was making up for lost time and was worshiping you any chance he could. Making love to him was like a song, something that started slow and sultry, then crescendos into something electric and thrilling. He knew how to make you sing and hit all the right notes. You were indeed his favorite song to play.

You knew he tried to ignore the bite marks on your body, but you felt when his eyes would stare at them in frustration. You suggested to him to feed from those scarred spots, hoping that maybe his bite would heal them in some way but he wouldn’t let himself do that. The shame and guilt he had inside him was still present and it was going to take time to get through those feelings.

But you’d let him feed when he wanted and he began to not be as shy about asking if he could. The more he did it, the more you found it insanely attractive. The pain was still prominent when he initially sunk his teeth in you but it faded away after a short period of time. It was something he needed to survive and you were more than happy to give that to him. Each time he fed, there was a small part of you that wanted him to finish the process so you could turn. But he wouldn’t let himself do that to you. He was adamant about keeping you human til your birthday like you wanted.

He took you to Hawaii the week of your birthday and you think that this has to be your new favorite place in this world. It was more stunning than you could ever imagine. Elvis would tell you stories of the times he’s visited and the movies he’s made there. He was here earlier in the year recording the first worldwide concert via satellite. He was so proud of the concert, every time he brought it up, he had this big smile on his face and was so happy he got to do it. He couldn’t help but marvel over the fact he made history doing that concert. He definitely had a love for this place and you could see why. The waters were more blue than you could have dreamed and cool enough to relax your body after laying out on the beach for too long.

Elvis would watch you enjoy your time here while he stayed underneath the shade of an umbrella. He would come and join you for a bit in the water and keep his shirt on to shield him as much as possible from the sun. It made his skin hurt though and he couldn’t stay out there that long with you. You understood and thought it was cute he still wanted to be out there with you regardless. After your legs get tired from swimming, you get out of the water and receive a devious look from him, his eyes eating you up as water dripped off your body. You smirk at him and shake your head gently.

“What do we have here,” he says softly.

“It’s just me,” you say shyly.

“No, I think it’s the love of my life,” he says pulling you on top of him.

He scoops you into his arms, holding you tightly and taking a deep breath in, giving you kisses on your cheek. His cool body temperature gives you goosebumps after getting out of the water and need a towel to dry off. He senses you’re cold and wraps a towel around you that was lying out in the sun getting warm. It felt so nice on your skin, making you feel cozy and warm.

“Let's go back to the room for a bit hmm?” He says softly. You nod your head and he takes your hand as you walk toward the hotel. You had the penthouse suites, of course, to give you and Elvis the most amount of privacy while you stayed here. He would get awestruck looks while you went through the lobby and a few people stopped him for an autograph.

You took the elevator all the way up to the top floor, holding him around his waist. The mood felt tense like he was nervous for you. Once you both are in the room, he locks the door behind him and looks at you softly, his eyes looking unwaveringly. You smile at him and turn to go on the balcony, looking out at the light blue waters on the horizon. You don’t hear him walk your way, but feel his hands wrap around your waist, pulling you back into his body. You sigh at the feeling of him, loving him more than you could have possibly imagined.

“Are you having a good birthday honey?” He asks low into your ear.

“Yes, I am. The best one ever,” you hum softly.

“Well, if you wanted to have more birthdays, you can always have that option…” he trails off. You squeeze at his hand, turn around to face him, and pull him in for a kiss.

“No, I don’t need any other special days when I get to have you forever,” you assure him.

“Mhmm… okay baby, as long as you’re happy. Was there anything else you wanted?” He asks, slowly trailing his hand down your back.

You can’t help that your heart gallops at the sight of him or how he has that look on his face that could make you do anything he wants. He smirks at the sound of your fluttering heart and pulls you in closer. Your bodies melt into each other and your brain begins to fog over at any logical thinking. You repeat the question he asked in your head and smirk at him.

“N-no, there’s nothing else I could possibly want. Was there anything you wanted to give me?” You ask cheekily.

He chuckles amused, tucking your hair behind your ear, “yes there was. There was one more human thing I wanted to give you…” he says. You look at him a bit confused, not sure what he’s getting at.

“When I first told you about our bond, I knew it was hard for you. The notion of giving up your human life and being part of a vampire one was a lot to handle. I know you said you were scared and had a future to look forward to and make for yourself. That’s why we’ve been traveling so much, getting you to see new things you never have before. And that will never stop, I’ll keep showing you new places. I wanted to give you something else that you mentioned you were going to miss.”

He slowly bent down on one knee and pulled a ring box from his pocket. He opens the small, red velvet box and looks up at you, love overflowing his gaze. A stunning diamond ring is looking at you and sparkles in the sunlight.

“Honey, will you do the immense honor of marrying me?” He says as his voice trembles.

You hold your breath, not believing this is really happening. The diamond was huge. You’d never seen something so extravagant other than the rings Elvis wears. It was an emerald cut with a pavé band in yellow gold and was the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen.

“Oh my God, honey, are you serious?!” You breathe.

“Yes baby, I want you. In every possible way, in the human way, by making you my wife, but also as my Chosen and make you mine forever,” he confesses.

Tears well up in your eyes and your heart leaps out with joy and love for him.

“Yes, of course I’ll marry you,” you say, your voice shaky and in disbelief.

He stands up to wrap you in his arms and hug you tightly. He kisses you with so much love and passion it makes you dizzy. You pull at his arms to have him somehow hold you tighter and it leaves you breathless. He pulls away to look at you, smiling and taking the ring out of the box.

You shakily hold your hand out and he slips the ring on your finger. It was a perfect fit and looked more beautiful than you could have ever imagined any ring could have looked on you.

“We can go get married whenever you want. Just tell me when and I’ll make it happen,” he tells you.

“What about the press? Won’t it look weird if you just suddenly get married after just getting divorced?” You ask worried.

“I don’t care about that darlin’. You’re all I care about and what makes you happy. We can do it whenever you want.”

“What about right now? Just go to city hall and do it right there? What do you think?” You say.

He looks at you a little shocked, not expecting you to be so ready for this.

“Yeah, baby? You don’t want a big wedding with your family and friends? There’s no rush,” he says softly.

“Yeah, that’s what I want. And besides, I want my husband to turn me later,” you press, knowing he’s going to like the sound of that. A low emitted growl comes from his chest and he squeezes your arms.

“Mhmm… that sounds like the most perfect way to go about it,” he says pulling you in for another kiss.

He called his guys and had them arrange everything and get a car ready to head down to city hall. He had enough connections that it wasn’t an issue to put everything together and get a marriage license ready for him. Everyone came to city hall and witnessed you both say your vows and celebrate with you.

It was just enough, it was special but there wasn’t too much attention drawn to you which sounded like your worst nightmare for a wedding. At that moment, it was just you and Elvis. You all quickly got out of the building before the word got leaked that Elvis is now married to a new mystery woman no one’s ever seen him with. For a split second, you think of your mom and Anna finding out this news in the newspaper without a heads up from you. You knew it wasn’t the best way to go about it but you’d deal with them later and knew they’d understand.

Everyone celebrates up in the penthouse with you both, happiness filling the room and joyful laughter. Elvis kept his arm around you the entire night, not letting you leave his side. He looked down at you from time to time and would just mutter something under his breath you couldn’t hear. You reach up for a kiss and he gives you a soft and tender one.

The sun was starting to set and the sky filled with a beautiful golden-orange sky. As you’re looking out the window, he bends down slightly so he can whisper something in your ear, “I think it’s time to kick everyone out and let me enjoy time with just my wife,” he says softly. Your heart gallops at the notion and you nod your head in agreement. Elvis gets everyone to leave and makes sure to tell them that no one disturb us. The door closes and you shiver at the way he’s looking at you.

He walks slowly to you, not having to say a word to get you to come to him.

“I love you,” he whispers, pulling you into his arms.

“I love you too,” you say back, pulling at his collar and getting him to kiss you. His lips crash into yours and your hands roam freely on his body.

“What did you want to do now?” You ask cheekily.

“It’s your day, you tell me what you need from me,” he says. His tone of voice and the way the slightest touch makes you unravel has to be one of the best things in the world. You would never get enough of him.

You pull him in closer by his arms, “I think you know what I want…I want you to change me,” you plead.

He takes a sharp breath, looking down at you with lust, need, and apprehension in his eyes.

“Are you sure about this? You don’t have to rush anything. It doesn’t have to be today. You could just enjoy being married as a human for a bit,” he assures.

“I’m positive. I want this more than you know. I’m ready to be completely yours,” you hum into his ear. He lets out a pleased grumble and squeezes you tighter, nearly knocking the wind out of you. He quickly releases the grip he has on your waist.

“Sorry baby didn’t mean to squeeze ya so tight,” he snickers, his hands consuming your body.

“Was there a certain way you wanted to do this? I want to make this as painless as possible,” he says softly, concern filling his eyes.

“No, I thought you would know how to do this the best,” you say jokingly.

“Well, yes, I’ve turned people before. I’ve just never turned someone I love so dearly… this is all new to me too,” he jests.

Your heart thumps faster, anxiety and intrigue filling your veins. A million things run through your head and you don’t know what to do exactly. There isn’t a play-by-play of how to become a vampire exactly. Would you go into a blood frenzy the second he bites you? Could it be contained? What would this all feel like? You sort through your scattered thoughts and try to ask them calmly.

“And where should I… bite you?” You say softly. He looks at you intensely, liking the sound of that proposition already.

“Anywhere you want baby, your instincts will take over and you’ll know what to do, trust me,” he coos, softly touching the side of your neck with his fingertips.

You push at his chest, leading him to the edge of the bed where he sits down when he feels the plush mattress hit the back of his knees. You stand in front of him and want to devour him. A shiver runs through you at that thought and you sit on his lap.

“Kiss me,” you plead, your heart racing against him. He wraps his arms around your waist with a grunt and pulls you even closer to his body. His hand caresses the back of your head and kisses your lips, tenderness and need filling you. You wrap your arms around him tightly and melt into his cool touch. He kisses down your cheek and onto your neck, nipping there causing an airy moan to escape from your lips.

“I wanna fuck you. I want to fuck my wife,” he growls, grinding your core on his bulge. You grumble in his neck and bite there, making him groan.

“Turn me first. Then I’ll be able to keep you up all night and fuck you how you like,” you tease. He bites his lower lip, his large hands cupping your supple breasts.

“You promise? Do you think you can take that all night? Even if you’re a vampire?” he growls. Your cheeks redden, unable to denounce his godawful seductive ways you were sure even in immortal life, you would never be able to handle normally. You sigh at the notion and you feel yourself melt into him.

“Yes, I promise you.” You moan into his mouth, going in for another kiss.

“No, let me make you feel good first. Please let me give you this and I will turn you after,” he tells you.

You don’t want to fight him over this and the way he’s looking at you with these dark and hungry eyes, you can’t say no to him. He beckons you to get closer to him and he crawls back on the bed, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it to the side. You crawl in between his legs and unbutton his pants, needing to feel his naked body on yours.

He lays down on the bed and you unzip your dress, watching how he looks at you with big, needy eyes. You start to pepper kisses up his naked body, making his chest huff with anticipation. Your eyes never leave his as your mouth gets dangerously close to his cock. Your tongue licks the underside of his shaft in one long swipe and he groans in agony. You gently rub his cock in your hand and look up at him innocently.

“Let me make you feel good. Just like this,” you coo, sucking on his head, moving the rest of his length with your hand.

“Goddamn baby, no,” he commands. You stop and he pulls at your arms to make you get on top of him. You look up at him unsure what he’s doing.

“I need to take care of you, the way I want to,” he grumbles, his hand slithering up to your neck and squeezing there. “Let me take care of my wife real nice now.”

You grab onto his wrist and your eyes roll back at the pressure closed around your neck.

“You know I’ll be just as strong as you when you turn me. Enjoy getting your way with me now while I can’t put up a good fight,” you tease. He grunts at that notion and gives you his hungry stare, his eyes slowly devouring your body.

“Oh, darlin’ what makes you think you’ll want to put up a fight? Do you think you’ll be able to fight how much you want me when you’re turned? It’ll be even worse than it is now.” He smirks devilishly. You stare at him drunkenly, not imagining you could want him any more than you do now.

“Goddamn it, don’t start,” you say holding his jaw, knowing it’s going to fuel him more. You bite the inside of your cheek and feel your core flutter. Fire ignites in his eyes and he pulls by you closer to his face.

“Hmm,” he hums to himself smugly, “I’m not doing anything. I’m just stating mere facts. And by the looks of it,” he pauses and his hand finds your dripping heat, “you like the idea of wanting me more. You like the idea of having my cock ruin you hmm? Just ruining my favorite places to be inside of all night, like this one,” he says as his fingers tease through your folds and circles your entrance.

“And this one,” he coos, pressing his index finger to your lips and you can’t help but lick the pad of it.

He lets out a satisfied grumble,” Mhmm, I love it when you beg for it, ” He teases, his fingers picking up pace and gathering more of the slick that has accumulated there. You gasp at the friction he gives you and try your best to not give him the satisfaction of showing how good it feels.

“God, I know you do. You just love to hear your name screamed, don’t you? Thought you’d get enough from all the audiences screaming your name,” You hiss. In the blink of an eye, his eyes are dark and ravenous. Two of his fingers plunge into your wet heat and curl them deep inside you. You gasp at the sensation and your eyes roll back.

“I wonder if you’ll be this insolent as a vampire too? I wonder if you’ll always test me and keep having me punish you for saying such things to me,” He says as he gives your ass a swift spank. “You’re going to be exhausted at the rate you don’t listen.” He moves his fingers and twists them deeper inside you and you groan, your hips moving with his hand.

“Elvis,” you hiss at him, his fingers continuing to make you fall apart.

“That’s right honey, you can be louder if you want to, no one’s in the penthouse. Say it one more time for me, nice and loud,” he teases devilishly. You shut your eyes in agony, pleasure skyrocketing into your body and making everything else seem meaningless.

“Elvisss, please! Please,” you whimper louder.

“Let me please you, baby. Let me give you more,” he coos. Your heart races a million miles per hour and you give in. Your body stiffens and you feel your core flutter at the notion.

“Yes, I’ll let you take me however you want,” you moan.

“Mhmm, good girl. Turn around and get on me,” he commands.

You look at him unsure, if you’re understanding correctly, you’ve never done this kind of thing and it made you feel like you’re about to die. You do as you’re told though and turn around on him straddling his torso, taking his long length in your hand, getting ready to take him inside your dripping heat. You suddenly feel his hands on your hips and makes you angle them back to his face. You look over your shoulder at him in disbelief. He makes your breathing hitch and your body begins to tremble.

“That’s it, baby, just relax,” he says low. You feel his thumb swipe through your dripping heat and you whine. You felt so exposed, so naughty for doing this sort of thing. You’ve never done this! The most intimate parts of you were just in his face and there was no being modest about anything now.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath as he plays with you, his thumb gathering your seeping arousal.

“Fuck baby this little pussy just dripping for me? Lookin’ absolutely delicious,” he groans.

That’s when you feel his tongue start to lap through your folds, groaning deeply as he tastes you. His low grumbling sounds made you wetter by the second. God damn him and his perfect mouth. Your chest heaves and you can’t keep your eyes open as he gives you the most intense wave of pleasure. He focuses on teasing you, not staying in one particular place for too long. His hands have a firm grip on your hips, keeping you as still as possible as his mouth does the work.

You open your eyes and find his cock hard and dripping with precum in front of your face. You could barely function with his mouth on you like this but you were going to try to please him too. Your hand gathers the slick on his head and you slowly start to spread it along his length. He lets out a low grumble that sends a vibration through you and you gasp. You do this slowly and try to tease him as much as he did to you but there’s no point. He always wins the teasing game.

You lean your upper body lower and start to swirl your tongue around his head. Another deep moan comes from him and it makes your body feel limp.

His tongue works faster on you and you let more of his cock slip into your mouth. You both moan together and his hips move up very faintly with your movements. You had never experienced anything like this and it was incredibly fervid getting to get fucked by his perfect mouth and you do the same to him.

You suddenly feel his tongue enter your core and you gasp for air. Your hips can’t help but rock back into his face. It felt too good not to and after all the teasing he’s done, you needed him inside you.

“Oh God, baby yes. Oh yes, fuck me,” You pant. He responds to you with a moan as his mouth is on you, sucking on your clit and then moving his tongue back inside you.

You try to focus on him more and suck more of his length. He helps you as he moves his cock in and out of you more and your tongue does the rest. But you couldn’t last much longer, not with the way he was devouring your pussy. You can barely catch your breath and his cock was hitting the back of your throat, making the most vile noises.

He moans again and you are about to get off of him when he stops you and grabs your thighs with his hands.

“Stay on me. Turn around and come sit on my face,” he growls, his voice exhibiting an unparalleled amount of dominance. You do as you’re told and turn around, placing your knees on either side of his head. He greedily grabs your hips, sitting you down, putting his mouth back on your core. It doesn’t take long for him to make you see stars with the way he’s eating you, like it was the first time, making it all too much to handle. Your walls flutter and your body shakes on top of him. Your hips roll on his face, chasing the high of your orgasm and your hand rakes through your hair, looking up to the ceiling.

“Oh my God baby,” you cry out, gasping for breath.

He teases at your entrance, too sensitive after all this but he doesn’t care, he wants to watch you squirm on top of him. It was one of his favorite things to do. Your body keeps shaking and he looks up at you with lust lighting up his dark eyes.

He lifts you up off his face so that you’re hovering above him on your knees and he turns his face to the inside of your thigh to kiss it but groans slightly instead. The scar from where Daniel bit you was still very prominent there and you were sure it killed Elvis to look at. He groans uncomfortably the more he looks at it. You place your hand on his face, making him look up at you.

“I’m all yours, no one else's. Feed baby, right there, it’s all yours,” you pant. His hands grip on your thighs tighter and he lets out a frustrated grunt before he sinks his teeth into your scarred flesh. You gasp as his sharp fangs pierce into your fragile skin, all too close to your over-sensitive core.

You try to stifle the groan that comes out of you, the sharp pain of his fangs making you wince. He’d never fed here before, it was all so new and fragile. Maybe the scar from the previous bite made it ultra-sensitive. Either way, it was all such a new sensation, and pain spread through you.

He swallows your blood delightedly and has a grip around your thighs that makes you immovable. Small groans come from the back of his throat as he feeds, and it just about makes you want to faint. The way he sounds when he’s with you will never be something you’ll ever get tired of. It’s like he’s never touched you before. Never gotten to see you naked. Never tasted any part of you and gets to experience it for the first time.

Your legs begin to quiver and you feel your arousal spill out of you and run down your thigh. He drinks a few more gulps and slowly stops, gently taking his fangs out of you so he doesn’t tear your skin harshly. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and his tongue is back on your thigh, licking the remaining blood that is seeping out of the wound and licking up your spilled arousal. You curse at him, looking down and watching how his hungry eyes light up when he sees you panting above him.

In a flash, he has you pinned on the bed with your arms above your head and his hands firmly pinning you there. “Fuckin’ hell baby,” he grunts. You feel the tip of his cock tease your entrance and you moan, already too overworked to be teased.

“Honey please,” you whimper.

He gently puts his cock all the way inside you, making you cry out his name, fucking you slow and powerfully.

“Tell me what you want,” he coos, his voice sending shivers through you, moving his hips the way only he can.

You can’t rationally speak, everything was so overwhelming and your mind couldn’t put together what you wanted to say.

“I w-want…. I- oh please honey I-,” you mutter, unable to put together any cohesive thoughts together.

His hips snap into you, powerful and claiming, making you want to see stars once again. You groan in torment, unable to focus on anything else but his hard cock fucking you into the bed.

“Come on baby girl you can say it,” growls, slowing his thrusts to let you catch your breath but still making it difficult.

“Change me, please. I’m ready,” you tell him. He lets go of your arms and covers your body in kisses, smothering you with his love. He reaches your face and kisses your lips softly, the mood of the room changing dramatically. He fucks you slow and controlled, taking his time in enjoying all of you.

He takes a sharp breath and glides his finger along the side of your neck where your scar resides. His eyes wander down to the other scars on your chest, your tummy, and the inside of your thigh that is still leaking blood. You wished he wouldn’t look there, those scars a constant reminder of what awful things were done to you. His fingers trace every outline of the bite marks left on you and he looks back up at you.

“Okay baby,” he softly murmurs. Your nails rake down his arms in fear, anticipation, and nervousness. You try to pull him close but he stays hovering above you. His eyes darken again and he licks his bottom lip. You want him closer, kissing you with passion and distract you from the pain that will ensue.

“Elvis, please,” you whimper.

“Hold onto me tight okay? Don’t let go,” he tells you. You nod your head immediately and your chest heaves looking at his sharp fangs.

“I love you,” he whimpers.

“I love you too,” you breathe.

He lets out a grunt before leaning down and kissing your neck. Sparks of electricity run through you and hold onto his back. He swivels his hips into you making you gasp for air and you turn your head to the side. A pleased groan comes from Elvis’ mouth as your neck is fully exposed to him, right where he needs to bite. You whimper in agony for him, ready to be completely his and start anew.

A deep growl comes from his throat and you feel his hand grip at your jaw, keeping you still. Your heart pounds in your ears and that's when you feel his sharp fangs pierce into your neck. You cry out, the pain rippling through you like a tidal wave. He was right, this hurt worse than any other bite. The skin here was so much more sensitive and thin, it felt like his bite was fifty sets of fangs inside you all at once. Your nails embed themselves into his back, the pain increasing with every moment he was drinking out of your neck. You hear him moaning as he’s drinking more of your blood than he ever has before. But he has to for his venom to enter your bloodstream.

You feel tears puddling from the corners of your eyes, unable to catch your breath. Your gasps and groans fill the room as Elvis is groaning, drinking from your neck in a focused manner. He pulls you up from the bed, sitting back with you sitting on him, holding you close as he swallows your blood with you two still connected.

Then you feel it; his venom. It was like wildfire burning and coursing through your veins. It made your entire body feel stiff and paralyzed. All you could manage to do was groan in agony, the pain paralyzing the rest of your senses. Your eyes started to feel the pain too and could only see large black specs in your vision. It was hurting to keep them open and each blink made it worse. Every movement you made made your body cry out in agony. Elvis was still feeding, holding the back of your head with his hand to support you. It felt like a long strain of time passed before he finally stopped and took his fangs out of you. You couldn’t see and the only thing keeping you in this moment was Elvis’ vice grip he had around your body that you were sure was going to break your bones. He doesn’t say anything and you suddenly feel both of his hands on your face. You can barely keep your head up and the searing flame burning in your eyes makes it unbearable.

“Oh fuck,” he breathes out, his tone scared and trembling. Your brain couldn’t compute what he meant or what he was seeing but it couldn’t have been good.

“Baby, it’s gonna be alright. I know it hurts I’m so sorry. Please forgive me,” he says trembling. His voice seemed so far away from you, like in another void of time. You feel his tongue lick your open wound and his hand placed on your cheek.

“You need to bite me now honey. Right now,” he demands, but to you, his voice sounds so far away and almost like an angelic whisper and you don’t move. His hand leads your head to his neck and this sweet, savory scent fills your nose. You groan in misery and press your lips to his neck. You could feel his light pulse on his neck and that sweet scent hit you again like a train. You open your mouth and let this new found instinct take over your senses. You bite down on Elvis’ neck hard and feel his normal rigid flesh give way to much more soft and supple skin. He pushes the back of your head into his neck more, encouraging you to keep going. You sink your teeth deeper into him and you taste the first taste of blood hit your tongue. It was strange at first, it didn’t taste like much and almost tasted metallic. Then you start to suck more and that’s when it hit you; the most savory and decadent thing you’ve ever put on your lips. His blood ran down your throat and your body thanked you for it. You were still weak but it felt good to drink from his neck. You had enough strength to pull yourself closer to him and feed more. You faintly hear him moan, clutching to your body and breathing heavily. Your hunger worsens and you drink bigger gulps, you have never felt hunger like this. This ravenous appetite Elvis would describe to you was very much real and worse than you realized. But your head throbbed and your eyes still burned, unable to see anything.

You take your mouth off his neck and gasp for air. Everything felt like it was on fire and you didn’t know what to do. Your body went limp and your hearing went out.

Black.

Your eyes flutter open and the air is still, almost too still. You look at the white ceiling and it feels like you’re looking at it through a magnifying lens. You saw every single texture and line that went through the ceiling and it confused you. Your eyes shift to somewhere else and a piece of lint floats into your vision. You were able to discern every wave and bend of the fiber it was bizarre.

“Hey darlin’,” a smooth baritone voice whispers at the other end of the room.

You slowly sit up in the bed and see Elvis sitting in a chair in the corner with sunglasses on and a silk shirt unbuttoned.

You take a deep breath through your nose and the most heavenly scent fills your head. It was mouth-watering good. It was sweet and savory, warm and delicious with each breath you took. Breathing felt peculiar, almost like it wasn’t needed.

Your hands move on the sheets and you can feel the softness of them through every thread. A robe was wrapped around you and tied at your waist. The silk fabric felt nice around you and smelled just as great as the room.

Your legs swivel to the edge of the bed and slowly gain your bearings. Elvis gets up and cautiously walks to you. Everything felt off and way too sensitive. The plush carpet was grainy and soft at the same time. It went in between your toes and made it tickle.

You look up at Elvis and your breath nearly gets sucked out of you.

You’ve never seen such a beautiful man in your life.

Every single detail was perfect. His hair, his nose, his pouty lips.

All of it.

It was like you saw him for the first time and it makes you feel entranced. He changed from the last memory you had of him. He had a brighter glow about him, his hair shorter, and his face looked more flawless if that’s even possible.

You raise your hand to touch his face and the warmth of his skin radiates through you. His skin felt perfect and near obsessional. There wasn’t a flaw on his face and you never felt so in awe. You place your other hand on his chest and the course little hairs that resided there felt nice underneath your fingertips. And then it hits you; you can feel his warmth. He’s not cold and instead melts into your touch.

He places his hand on the back of your head to have you look at him. He lets out a sigh of relief and smiles at you lovingly.

“Hi beautiful, I missed you,” he coos, leaning in to kiss you. God those lips were perfection, devouring yours with intense need and the utmost importance. You sigh softly into him, loving how incredible he feels. He pulls away to look you over again, and bites his bottom lip slowly, making it pop.

“Jesus, you’re perfect. How was it possible for you to become even more beautiful…” he says dazed. You smirk at him and shake your head. “Come here, you need to look at yourself,” he says, leading you over to the large mirror in the corner of the room.

He holds your hand as he leads you over but you couldn’t care how you looked right now. All you wanted to do was study every detail of his face because you felt like you’d never seen him like this before. Stunning and perfect in every way. Elvis steps behind you and turns you around toward the mirror. You slowly turn your focus to your reflection and cock your head in confusion. You barely recognize yourself and look up at Elvis in the mirror.

You stare back at your golden, gleaming eyes and your long fanning lashes. You were in shock by what you were seeing, you had almost prepared yourself to see red eyes whenever you thought of changing into a vampire. The golden hue was like sunlight; bright, warm, and full of life. Your hair’s natural waves became more defined and the auburn color was vibrant and lustrous. Your skin was also smooth and pale like his and all your senses felt heightened. Every breath you took was intense and you rubbed your thumb against his hand and felt the hairs that were there.

The robe you’re wearing is not tightly tied around your waist so it exposes your chest and neck. As you look closer, you realize the scars from the bite marks are gone, and all that’s left behind is glass-smooth skin. Elvis’ hand is around your torso, melting into you and making you realize this is all real and not some delusion.

You twist your body around to face him and don’t know where to begin.

“What happened? Why are m-my eyes…” you trail off. He starts to take off his sunglasses and chuckles softly, looking down at the ground. He shoots his gaze back up to you and you gasp.

The same golden eyes stare back at you and look even more beautiful. You caress his face, lightly rubbing your thumb across his cheek.

“Oh my God, they’re stunning honey. God, how can you look better than before? What- What does this mean? Is this normal?” You ask.

He smiles at you as he tries to soothe your worries away.

“Shh baby it’s okay. I think it's because… we’re one. In heart and soul, we are one.” He smiles.

•

Tagging 🖤: @powerofelvis @burninlovebutler @neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @loving-elvis @theresalwaysep

@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog . @myradiaz @tacozebra051

@thatbanditqueen

@18lkpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy

@elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony . @generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley . @iloveelvis @rjmartin11 @that-hotdog @louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777ep1938 @50sexyshadesfashionista

@oldh0llyw0od @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs

#elvis presley #elvis presely smut #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis imagine #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis x reader #70s elvis #elvis #vampire elvis #sinned awakening #dreamingofep #elvis fans #fanfiction

116 notes · View notes

justporo · 7 months

Text

The moon and the stars

A Night of Fake Smiles and Hidden Lies: Part 2

Author's Note: In which Tav and Astarion continue preparing for the ball - and it almost broke me to describe their clothing (this fic really makes me break out a dictionary way too often...)

Song: Suit & Tie - Justin Timberlake

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav Rating: Explicit Warnings: none

CHAPTER LIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

~~~

When you finally left the bathroom, you felt indeed pleasantly relaxed – physically and mentally. Astarion had made you put on a fancy silken robe he had gotten for you as a gift. The smooth fabric felt pleasantly cool on your skin and you couldn’t stop looking at the wonderful floral pattern it had and its deep red colour. Astarion, in the meantime, had slipped into a similar robe made of satin that was obviously the match for yours in pattern and colour.

“Come with me, my love, I have something else for you”, Astarion said with a promising smile and led you to your joint bedroom. Surely, there he had already placed a bottle of wine and two goblets for you on a sidetable next to the chaise longue you had also placed in this room. “You really got to stop showering me with gifts, Astarion, I can’t keep up with you”, you laughed when you saw the dress laid out on the bed. Next to it was a doublet, shirt, vest and pants.

“Firstly: no, I don’t! Secondly, you don’t have to! And thirdly, it was a gift for myself as much as for you, my love”, Astarion responded and went over to the small table to pour you some wine.

“You really thoroughly prepared all this, didn’t you?”, you asked as you walked closer to the bed to take a closer look at the dress laying there. You were intimidated by the thought of wearing something so unusual for you – but you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that you also felt pretty excited. Wasn’t this what so many girls and women dreamt of? Being a princess, at least one time in your life, dancing with your partner in a castle? In your case with your regal prince?

Just that your prince happened to be a very sassy vampire; but you wouldn’t want it any other way.

You giggled at the thought which caught Astarion’s attention. “What’s there to giggle, my love?”, he asked looking at you with suspicion as he came over to you and offered you the goblet with wine. “Oh, nothing. Just thinking about how you’d make a terrible prince on a white horse.” Astarion looked confused for a second, then snorted: “Yeah well, for that sort of thing you should have chosen Wyll, my sweet.” He took a swig of wine and so did you.

“Nah”, you replied after that and made a face. “I love my snarky little vampire way too much for that.” You smiled at him and gave him a kiss.

“I don’t know where the ‘little’ comes from, but anyways. I love you too, my sweet princess, now go look at the dress I brought you or I’ll take it back”, Astarion teased after the kiss and motioned towards the bed with his head.

So, you finally strode over and took in the garment: It was a striking deep blue that became lighter and a wonderful shade of purple up to lavender further down the skirt – impressively similar to the colours the sky turned when the sun set. It had a high collar that didn’t fully close around the neck in the front, so it allowed for a deep neckline that almost looked like a four-pointed star and long flowy sleeves that from the elbows down became cascading trains of fabric. The bodice was decorated with embroidered bigger four-point stars and smaller sparkles in silver and a few shiny stones. From the slender belt around the waistline down it became a luscious silken skirt that was carefully draped with few more star decorations that became fewer the more the colours lightened.

It was quite frankly stunning. Regal and elegant, but not overly flamboyant which would have been something you would have never felt comfortable to wear. And the most important thing: no corset. You wouldn’t have believed it, but you were actually excited to put this garment on.

You turned to Astarion with a huge grin who carefully expected your reaction. “You delivered on your promise to not make me wear a corset”, you cheerfully exclaimed. “And?”, drawled Astarion raising his eyebrows and lowering his gaze at you expectantly. Shortly, you considered making a joke, but you saw how genuinely excited Astarion looked so you went with the truth: “It’s incredibly beautiful and I am indeed pretty excited to put it on and see what it looks like on me.” To that Astarion’s eyes started shining with joy and love. “Neither can I, beautiful”, he cooed and pulled you in with one arm to nuzzle his nose against your cheek.

“Did you do the embroidery yourself?”, you asked while you wrapped your arm not occupied with wine around his waist and kept looking at the dress. “Well, of course”, the vampire replied. You could feel his chest rise with pride – and rightfully so.

“Let me take a look at your outfit before I get dressed”, you said after a while and took a sip of wine. You untangled yourself from Astarion and stepped closer to the bed again to where his clothes were laying next to yours.

Quite obviously his shirt, vest, doublet and pants were made to match your dress – or maybe it had rather been the other way around. The shirt was simple: white, with a high collar and some lace details at the hems. The pants already were more intricate: black leather that at first looked quite plain but patterns of swirls and undulations were pressed into it all over. The vest was very similar to your bodice, also with a high neck but the shade was an even darker blue and it closed at the front with intricate silver clasps all over the chest. Of course, it had some embroidery as well.

But the doublet was the centre piece of it all: You could see that the satin cloth – being the same shade of blue as the vest - had the same swirls as a pattern as the pants but it only became visible in the right angle of light. The front was intricately embroidered with silver stars. Smaller stars formed bigger stars and those an even bigger symmetrical pattern. Smaller parts of embroidery were placed on the sleeves and the hems. The button border was completely worked in silver thread, every silver button had a star on it and was closed with silver cord.

You were in awe. You were pretty sure you had never seen a finer piece of clothing. And knowing that Astarion had done the embroidery work himself – your jaw dropped. “You’ve outdone yourself”, you whispered, still awestruck.

“Ah well, I mean, I only picked out the pieces and did the embroi-“ “Shut up and take the compliment, Astarion, humbleness doesn’t become you”, you immediately stopped him with a raised finger and looked at him. He closed his opened mouth and shrugged: “I mean, we are going to look gorgeous.” “Better! Now then – time to dress?” You looked at Astarion who only grinned at you and nodded.

You put down your remaining wine and carefully lifted up the dress while Astarion sat or rather laid down on the chaise longue. Leaning back on one of his arms, his robe opened up and you could see his bare chest beneath. When you looked at him quizzically, he said: “Don’t mind me, my love, I just wanted to get comfortable to enjoy the show.” He grinned at you lewdly and you immediately felt some of the heat from earlier come back.

You decided to just get going. You looked at the dress in your hands for a few more moments and then put it back down to free your hands when you saw that there had been something else laying under it.

Obviously, Astarion had picked out some lacey underwear to go with the dress. It was intricately worked, the same shade of blue as the dress – also an awful lot of nothing. You blushed and threw Astarion a glance whose grin only had become naughtier at you making the discovery.

“This looks more complicated to put on than the dress to be honest”, you whispered a bit coyly suddenly – almost more to yourself than to him. “You don’t have to, my sweet, call it merely a suggestion if you would”, Astarion said and got up to stand behind you. He grabbed you by the waist and leaned down to whisper to you: “If you don’t feel comfortable with it, that’s absolutely fine.” He pressed a soft kiss to your pointy ear. “No, I want to”, you immediately exclaimed.

“Good, because I’d love to tear it off you with my teeth later”, Astarion responded with a husky whisper and a tone that dripped with sinful promise like molten chocolate. He pressed another kiss to your cheek and went back to nonchalantly lounge on the chaise longue while you felt your blush grow and your eyes widen.

“One of these days you’re going to kill me saying stuff like this”, you breathed out. The vampire chuckled: “Only by saying? My love, I haven’t even started the doing.” By all the Gods – you had to turn away from him as he kept laughing and sipping his wine.

You carefully put on the lingerie while you were painfully aware of Astarion’s gaze burning into your back. But you didn’t turn around again – firstly, because you wouldn’t give him that present yet. And secondly, because you were scared the evening would be over way too quickly if you did.

Then you put on the dress. It had a long row of buttons down the back, so Astarion had to come over again to help you. And he did so by giving your neck a kiss for every button his fingers closed.

When he was done – the last button had earned you several kisses – he stepped back. “Turn around for me, darling?”, he asked almost shyly. You did, slowly while you looked down at yourself and could already feel yourself getting giddy.

“How do I look, my love?”, you asked coyly and softly swayed from side to side while gazing at Astarion through your lashes.

The vampire was speechless, his face was basically in shock as his eyes wandered up and down over your body. And then up again. And then down again!

“Like a goddess, my heart, like a vision”, he finally said while still unable to rip his ruby eyes off you. “Give me a twirl, my love”, he then exclaimed and clapped his hands. You happily fulfilled his wish. In fact, you did one or two bonus rounds and kept laughing the whole time. You could feel the skirt fly around you. “On this exception I would have loved a mirror to take a quick peek at how I look”, you said as you stopped turning, your cheeks flushed.

The vampire softly grabbed your hands: “Oh, way ahead of you, Tav.” He made you turn to the far corner of your bedroom where you saw what must’ve been the big heavy package, he had brought home yesterday with all the other stuff.

“You bought a mirror?”, you asked and furrowed your brows. “I thought we did agree on no mirrors in our house.” “Surely, my sweet, and I appreciate the notion, but… I wanted you to be able to look at yourself!”, Astarion replied and strode over to the floor-length mirror he had thus far kept covered with a sheet.

“Voilà!”, he exclaimed as he dragged off the cloth and revealed your reflection in the mirror as he stood beside it. You were stunned as you looked at yourself.

Thankfully, you still recognised yourself. It was still you. But you looked regal and elegant. Unconsciously you straightened your back and lifted your chin up a little which made Astarion grin – he knew exactly that he’d done an incredible job.

You lifted your arms, watched as the trains of cloth flowed down beneath your elbows, you watched the skirts move swiftly as you turned. Safe to say you had probably never felt this beautiful in your life. Astarion beamed at you. “Come over here, sweetheart, take a closer look”, he encouraged you. Then he quickly leaned over the rim of the mirror. “Ah, sadly still nothing”, he quipped and then went off as you stepped closer and admired the details of the dress.

“I still feel bad about having a mirror now”, you shouted back at Astarion while you leaned to your reflection to admire the craftsmanship of the embroidery. “Oh, don’t be, love. I’m used to it by now and you’re only going to make me sappy”, he answered from somewhere from the other corner of the room.

You kept looking at yourself, not fully believing that this was really happening, when suddenly something was dangling in front of your face.

Astarion had snuck up on you – and of course – there had been no reflection in the mirror to spot his arrival. Now, a piece of jewellery was lowered onto you slowly.

“Really? Another gift, Astarion?”, you asked mockingly in anger. “Hush, this is the last one, now look!”, he scolded you as he closed the clasp at the back of your neck. Then he let his hands softly rest on your shoulders.

It was a necklace with a round and beautiful moonstone set in gold, though the colour of the stone matched nicely with the decorum on your dress. It sparkled softly in different colours where it perfectly sat at the dip of your collar bone – and a perfect centre piece for your neckline. You reached at it with your fingertips. It wasn’t even incredibly excessive or flamboyant, just very delicately beautiful. And you immediately knew you would wear it every day.

“You’ve become my sun, Tav”, Astarion spoke solemnly. Surprised by his sudden mood change you threw a quick glance over your shoulder. The vampire looked longingly at your mirror image. His red eyes were glistening with warmth and almost seemed like they were tearing up. He didn’t stop looking at you in the mirror.

“And then… you gave up the sun for me and became my moon as well. The light of my life.” His eyes lit up even more saying that. “If I only can make up for that a tiny bit by showering you with gifts, adoring and loving you every day of my immortal life and keeping you safe and happy, then I’ll happily provide you with that as long as I am able to.” His voice almost broke but his eyes were incredibly bright.

Your eyes welled up. You turned around and grabbed his hands off your shoulders, looking deeply into his eyes. “It’s not all me though. You changed my life, taught me that I was worth more”, you spoke, your voice barely coming out as more than a whisper. You pulled his hands to your chest as he leaned his forehead softly onto yours. You felt the tears coming and saw that his eyes were almost running over as well: “You’re the one that’s guiding me. You’re my stars, Astarion, my whole firmament!”

Tags: @aurasyn @margoteve @usuallyunlikelyfox @hollowmasque @worryknotdear

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #a night of fake smiles and hidden lies #tav

165 notes · View notes

elvisabutler · 8 months

Text

show off

fandom: elvis 2022 | elvis presley rating: m pairing: elvis presley ( big daddy flavor ) x female reader word count: 2100 you didn't see any other word count. warnings: cockwarming! p in v sex ( unprotected ). public play. mildly excessive baby talk. use of buntyn and nungen and princess as nicknames. mild embarrassment kink? author’s note: welcome to day 11 of ally’s wet hot smut summer, public play with big daddy elvis presley x reader. sorry this took a minute, i've been incredibly exhausted lately and so it's made finishing things a bit of an adventure. quick notes for this fic, this is a sort of au, in that i placed it in a mythical place where elvis doesn't die in 77 and is free of his vegas residency in the 70s. so maybe call it a nebulous 78 to 80? reader is implied to have been with him for years and you can read it as having an age difference but it's in my head as not having one. basically this is secretly a reader version of quiet on the set's future and i'm not sorry for it. beyond that if y'all have left me a comment on any of my fics or anything i'm going to get back to them. when i tell you i've been exhausted it's been a lot. without further ado, i hope y'all like this. also pick if you want austin elvis or real elvis the end.

There's something funny about how Elvis would prefer the two of you to be private. There is something truly and genuinely hilarious to you about the fact that he preferred the two of you to be private. His argument has always been that the happiest he ever is in his life is during those private moments with the people he loves. You always argue that he can't show you off like you know he wants to if you're being private and yet he'll flash that little twinkle in his eye and ignore your protests. So much of his life isn't private but the love he has for you— the love between the two of you is supposed to be private. An oasis for him to relax in as much as he does in Hawai‘i.

Despite all of this you know so very well how much he cares for you and how much he loves you. And if you were being entirely honest, the privacy makes the times he does want to show you off all the more special. Indeed it makes the times he does feel like delightful surprises.

Maybe that's why you had agreed to come play poker with him and the boys. It's been a long time since you've enjoyed that sort of thing and you've missed it. Truthfully it's been a while since Elvis has even been in Vegas, memories of how he almost was stuck in a revolving door of engagements here cluttering his mind and giving him a nightmare or two. So having him enjoying time with friends and you seems like a perfect recipe for a night. Of course, you should know better by now, know how Elvis always has something up his sleeve. A playful little trick he can play with that glint in his eye.

"Where's my chair, Mr. Presley?" You ask, not bothering with his nickname or his first name. There always was something fun about how he acted a bit like an admonished schoolboy when you called him Mr. Presley. "Can't very well play poker if I don't have a chair."

Elvis looks at you and gives you that sly smile you know so very well by now as he pats his lap, thigh jiggling just a tad as he does. There's that glint in his eyes that spells trouble of the best and worst kind. "Ya got a chair right here, Princess. Nice 'n plush too."

You'd think after all these years and after seeing his body through so many changes that you wouldn't be affected by the jiggle of his thigh and the open v of his legs. Yet, you're a woman who knows what she wants and you're the woman he put a ring on all those years ago. Most of the things he does get you more hot under the collar than they have any right to. This is one of those things. You feel your pussy clench around nothing and despite yourself you rub your thighs together even as you're standing.

"Are we playing as a team, then? Us against the boys?" The questions roll off your lips with an ease and familiarity only you manage when it comes to him. "Otherwise I think you'd be able to cheat."

As you speak, you've started to walk closer to him and finally find yourself at arm's length. Elvis wastes no time in grabbing your arm and pulling you flush against his lap, his thighs cushioning your behind and his cock stirring ever so slightly under his stomach. A gasp leaves your lips unexpectedly.

His arm wraps around your waist, making sure you don't move too much while he talks. "My wife accusin' me of cheatin' at cards. I could take ya thinkin' I'd step out on ya but I would never cheat at poker."

The soft rumble of a laugh courses through your body and has you following suit as you shift in his lap. "I let you step out and you let me as a present. But I know you're a sore loser who can't focus when I'm here."

You turn your head just slightly, watching as Elvis's eyes practically dance with mirth. He's mercurial as all get out when he wants to be but he can take some good-natured teasing when it comes from you. It's why you've worked well all these years.

"Now honey, my yittle nungen, I know you're still smartin' from that game ya lost against me 'bout a week ago but that ain't no reason to be tellin' lies about my sportsmanship."

A defense is on the tip of your tongue when you feel Elvis's warm hand against your thigh, slipping under your dress that you decided to wear today. That warmth does away with the words in such a quick fashion that you find yourself biting your lip to keep from sighing. "Elvis."

You say his name in a feather soft whisper as his friends start to trickle into the room. You've been in a situation like this before, when you were younger and somehow just as randy as you were now but Elvis hadn't done something like this in ages. He hadn't even thought to tease you like this in ages.

As if he isn't paying attention, he merely hums at your whisper of his name and uses his arm to maneuver your crotch against his cock, the flowing fabric of your dress hiding his actions from prying eyes. You don't know when or how he managed to free his cock from the confines of his pants and yet he has. That hand that innocently is burning against your thigh has crept up to your panties and with the ease of someone who knows your body like the back of their hand, he moves them just enough to the side to slide inside of you.

"Goddamn. Didn't expect ya to be so wet. Was hopin' but— Lord almighty, ya gonna stain my pants if ya move." Ironically you choose just that moment to move, attempting to get off of him for a moment before his grip on your waist stops you. "Nungen, you be a good girl for yer Buntyn and stay put. Can't have 'em seein' Lil Elvis, now can we?"

You feel the heat of mild embarrassment and excitement flush through your body as a shiver racks it. A shake of your head is the only answer you can manage for a moment. "You want me to sit like this for the whole game, baby?"

Elvis nuzzles his lips against your neck, his eyes taking in his friends pulling out their seats and sitting down, none the wiser to what was happening in his lap. They wave at you and you, ever the courteous host wave back and even smile, saying hello as Elvis mumbles words into your neck. He doesn't need to greet everyone, not while he's buried inside of you, his cock leaking precum like he's ready to fuck you on the table instead of just letting you sit on his cock. Besides, they know better than to disturb him when the two of you are wrapped up in one another.

The chair isn't close enough to the table and you move to drag it a little closer, or drag both you and Elvis a little closer only to have what feels like the world's loudest squelch come from between your thighs. No one looks at the pair of you as if they heard it but to Elvis and you it might as well have been a shout. You let out a shaky breath as you shift to try and make yourself comfortable. Elvis's legs open up just a bit more to make sure you're where you need to be, even as he thrusts just a tad. "Gotta stay still. Gonna, if ya move— I might just take ya on this table, damn the game."

You can't help but swallow at the idea, your mouth filling with saliva at the mere idea of being flipped thrown onto the table, pussy exposed to people you and him call friends. It's primal and practically voyeuristic and the sort of thing both you and Elvis aren't incredibly fond of with your relationship and yet. Yet it fills you with such arousal you feel it actually dampening his pants as the game starts.

Elvis isn't the worst of poker players but in combination with you, he's nigh unstoppable. Of course, maybe that's because everyone else's eyes are on you, wondering why you haven't moved to the empty chair next to Elvis. Jerry— who's there on a surprise visit is closest to the two of you and raises an eyebrow as he looks at his cards and then at you. You clench around Elvis's cock in a bit of worry.

"Is it a little warm in here?" A simple question to everyone but from the way he's staring both of you down it's not meant to be one. Both you and Elvis open your mouth before you kiss Elvis to stop whatever one liner is about to leave his lips.

"With how cold he keeps it in here? The only reason I don't need a jacket is because of his body heat," you practically titter out a laugh, the fear of being caught heightening your arousal even further. You feel your clit throbbing as everyone laughs at your joke.

Jerry rolls his eyes and shakes his head looking down at your lap. Still, the game is going nicely, with Elvis winning more hands than not and you trying to grab at a free hand to get some form of relief. After what feels like an eternity Elvis finally has his hand move between your legs, his calloused fingers brushing up against your aching little clit.

"Haven't teased ya like this in years, have I, Princess?" Elvis murmurs against your ear, feeling your vagina clench around him. "Haven't shown everyone how good ya are for me for a long time, have I? Haven't made 'em realize why I couldn't forget 'bout ya."

Your answer is a hum caused by you biting your lip to keep the cry that threatens to escape your lips at the pressure of his fingers against you. It's not enough for Elvis though, he knows you can control yourself better than he ever can. "Darlin' use ya words."

"It's been too long," you choke out the words, one of your hands moving to grip his meaty thigh and the other to grip at the table. You can feel your walls fluttering around Elvis, feel your body tensing up as it chasing something you know he won't give you in public. The face you make when he pulls an orgasm from you is one that's strictly between the two of you. Yet you're so wound up that you fear you'll be leaning over the table for support as soon as he says the word. In an attempt to alleviate something, anything you try and bounce only to have him nip at your ear.

"Ask me nicely, Nungen. Ask me nicely. Give 'em their game and their show. Remind 'em I caught ya jus' the same as ya caught me." His voice is more of a grunt as he slides a set of chips into the pot wordlessly. "Show 'em what I get in bed every night. What 'm wakin' up to every night 'less ya let me stray. Show 'em what I see after I've eaten my dessert.

Despite the way you're biting your lips so hard they're practically bleeding a noise that sounds like a scream forces its way out of your lungs and mouth as you clench around Elvis. You feel a gush that you only identify with times you've been played with so much by Elvis that you make a mess of every sheet you have. His pants are ruined but they'd be anyway from how you feel a warm rush of his cum follow yours. Through the grace of God himself you don't fall onto the table, instead stabilizing yourself using Elvis's thigh and somehow his lap in general. Your breath takes a few minutes to even out, even as everyone watches you and Elvis panting as if you've run a marathon. There's a knowing look that crosses everyone's face but everyone is too scared to speak until finally you smile and smooth out your dress as if you plan on standing up.

"This is why you're losing boys, you can't pay attention the game."

You make no effort to get off of Elvis's lap.

taglist: @ab4eva , @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @missmaywemeetagain, @lookingforrainbows, @araxw, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7 @chasingwildflowers, @notstefaniepresley, @wanderingelvis, @kxnnxy, @powerofelvis, @stylespresleyhearted @be-my-ally, @mooodyblue, @pixiedustcosmos, @jessicarcates, @amydarcimarie, @flwrs4aust @myradiaz, @adaydreamaway08, @arabellalightning505, @doll-elvis guarantee i'm missing someone. i tried the end. also i clearly added this originally. also you want to be added just ask me. i keep forgetting people or losing people in these and just it's a mess.

#elvis presley #ally writes #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x you #elvis presley x y/n #big daddy elvis #ally's wet hot smut summer #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley smut #austin elvis smut #austin elvis x reader

183 notes · View notes