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denimbex1986 · 5 months

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'...“It’s fun playing bad, but actually he’s not,” the actor says, smiling as he reflects on his character, Crowley. “He’s a villain with a heart. The amount of really evil things he does are vanishingly small.”

...As it always has, “Good Omens” dissects the view of good and evil as absolutes, showing viewers that they are not as separate as we were led to believe growing up. Aziraphale and Crowley’s long-standing union is proof of this. The show also urges people to look at what defines our own humanity. For Tennant — who opted to wear a T-shirt emblazoned with the words “Leave trans kids alone you absolute freaks” during a photocall for Season 2 — these themes are more important now than ever before.

“In this society that we’re currently living in, where polarization seems ever more present, fierce and difficult to navigate. Negotiation feels like a dirty word at times,” he says, earnestly. “This is a show about negotiation. Two extremes finding common ground and making their world a better place through it. Making life easier, kinder and better. If that’s the sort of super objective of the show, then I can’t think of anything more timely, relevant or apt for the rather fractious times we’re living in.”

“Good Omens” is back by popular demand for another season. How does it feel?

It’s lovely. Whenever you send something out into the world, you never quite know how it will land. Especially with this, because it was this beloved book that existed, and that creates an extra tension that you might break some dreams. But it really exploded. I guess we were helped by the fact that we had Neil Gaiman with us, so you couldn’t really quibble too much with the decisions that were being made. The reception was, and continues to be, overwhelming.

Now that you’re no longer bound by the original material that people did, perhaps, feel a sense of ownership over, does the new content for Season 2 come with a sense of freedom for you? This is uncharted territory, of sorts.

That’s an interesting point. I didn’t know the book when I got the script. It was only after that I discovered the worlds of passion that this book had incited. Because I came to it that way, perhaps it was easier. I found liberation from that, to an extent. For me, it was always a character that existed in a script. At first, I didn’t have that extra baggage of expectation, but I acquired it in the run-up to Season 1 being released… the sense that suddenly we were carrying a ming vase across a minefield.

In Season 2, we still have Neil and we also have some of the ideas that he and Terry had discussed. During the filming of the first one, Neil would drop little hints about the notions they had for a prospective sequel, the title of which would have been “668: The Neighbour of the Beast,” which is a pretty solid gag to base a book around. Indeed there were elements like Gabriel and the Angels, who don’t feature in the book, that were going to feature in a sequel. They were brought forward into Season 1. So, even in the new episodes, we’re not entirely leaving behind the Terry Pratchett-ness of it all.

It’s great to see yourself and Michael Sheen reunited on screen as these characters. Fans will have also watched you pair up for Season 3 of “Staged.” You’re quite the dynamic duo. What do you think is the magic ingredient that makes the two of you such a good match?

It’s a slightly alchemical thing. We knew each other in passing before, but not well. We were in a film together [“Bright Young Things,” 1993] but we’d never shared a scene. It was a bit of a roll of the dice when we turned up at the read-through for “Good Omens.” I think a lot comes from the writing, as we were both given some pretty juicy material to work with. Those characters are beloved for a reason because there’s something magical about them and the way they complete each other. Also, I think we’re quite similar actors in the way we like to work and how we bounce off each other.

Does the shorthand and trust the two of you have built up now enable you to take more risks on-screen?

Yes, probably. I suppose the more you know someone, the more you trust someone. You don’t have to worry about how an idea might be received and you can help each other out with a more honest opinion than might be the case if you were, you know, dancing around each other’s nervous egos. Enjoying being in someone’s orbit and company is a positive experience. It makes going to work feel pleasant, productive, and creative. The more creative you can be, the better the work is. I don’t think it’s necessarily a given that an off-screen relationship will feed into an on-screen one in a positive or negative way. You can play some very intimate moments with someone you barely know. Acting is a peculiar little contract, in that respect. But it’s disproportionately pleasurable going to work when it’s with a mate.

Fans have long discussed the nature of Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship. In Season 2, we see several of the characters debate whether the two are an item, prompting them to look at their union and decipher what it is. How would you describe their relationship?

They are utterly co-dependent. There’s no one else having the experience that they are having and they’ve only got each other to empathize with. It’s a very specific set of circumstances they’ve been dealt. In this season, we see them way back at the creation of everything. They’ve known each other a long time and they’ve had to rely on each other more and more. They can’t really exist one without the other and are bound together through eternity. Crowley and Aziraphale definitely come at the relationship with different perspectives, in terms of what they’re willing to admit to the relationship being. I don’t think we can entirely interpret it in human terms, I think that’s fair to say.

Yet fans are trying to do just that. Do you view it as beyond romantic or any other labels, in the sense that it’s an eternal force?

It’s lovely [that fans discuss it] but you think, be careful what you wish for. If you’re willing for a relationship to go in a certain way or for characters to end up in some sort of utopian future, then the story is over. Remember what happened to “Moonlighting,” that’s all I’m saying! [Laughs]

Your father-in-law, Peter Davison, and your son, Ty Tennant, play biblical father-and-son duo Job and Ennon in Episode 2. In a Tumblr Q&A, Neil Gaiman said that he didn’t know who Ty’s family was when he cast him. When did you become aware that Ty had auditioned?

I don’t know how that happened. I do a bunch of self-tapes with Ty, but I don’t think I did this one with him because I was out of town filming “Good Omens.” He certainly wasn’t cast before we started shooting. There were two moments during filming where Neil bowled up to me and said, “Guess, who we’ve cast?” Ty definitely auditioned and, as I understand it, they would tell me, he was the best. I certainly imagine he could only possibly have been the best person for the job. He is really good in it, so I don’t doubt that’s true. And then my father-in-law showed up, as well, which was another delicious treat. In the same episode and the same family! It was pretty weird. I have worked with both of them on other projects, but never altogether.

There’s a “Doctor Who” cameo, of sorts, in Episode 5, when Aziraphale uses a rare annual about the series as a bartering tool. In reality, you’ll be reprising your Time Lord role on screen later this year in three special episodes to mark the 60th anniversary. Did you always feel you’d return to “Doctor Who” at some point?

There’s a precedent for people who have been in the series to return for a multi-doctor show, which is lovely. I did it myself for the 50th anniversary in 2013, and I had a wonderful time with Matt [Smith]. Then, to have John Hurt with us, as well, was a little treat. But I certainly would never have imagined that I’d be back in “Doctor Who” full-time, as it were, and sort of back doing the same job I did all those years ago. It was like being given this delightful, surprise present. Russell T Davies was back as showrunner, Catherine Tate [former on-screen companion] was back, and it was sort of like the last decade and a half hadn’t happened.

Going forward, Ncuti Gatwa will be taking over as the new Doctor. Have you given him any advice while passing the baton?

Oh God, what a force of nature. I’ve caught a little bit of him at work and it’s pretty exciting. I mean, what advice would you give someone? You can see Ncuti has so much talent and energy. He’s so inspired and charismatic. The thing about something like this is: it’s the peripherals, it’s not the job. It’s the other stuff that comes with it, that I didn’t see coming. It’s a show that has so much focus and enthusiasm on it. It’s not like Ncuti hasn’t been in a massive Netflix series [“Sex Education,”] but “Doctor Who” is on a slightly different level. It’s cross-generational, international, and has so much history, that it feels like it belongs to everyone.

To be at the center of the show is wonderful and humbling, but also a bit overwhelming and terrifying. It doesn’t come without some difficulties, such as the immediate loss of anonymity. It takes a bit of getting used to if that’s not been your life up to that point. I was very lucky that when I joined, Billie Piper [who portrayed on-screen companion, Rose] was still there. She’d lived in a glare of publicity since she was 14, so she was a great guide for how to live life under that kind of scrutiny. I owe a degree of sanity to Billie.

Your characters are revered by a few different fandoms. Sci-fi fandoms are especially passionate and loyal. What is it like being on the end of that? I imagine it’s a lot to hold.

Yes, certainly. Having been a fan of “Doctor Who” since I was a tiny kid, you’re aware of how much it means because you’re aware of how much it meant to you. My now father-in-law [who portrayed Doctor Who in the 80s] is someone I used to draw in comic strips when I was a kid. That’s quite peculiar! It’s a difficult balance because on one end, you have to protect your own space, and there aren’t really any lessons in that. That does take a bit of trial and error, to an extent, and it’s something that you’re sometimes having to do quite publicly. But, it is an honor and a privilege, without a doubt. As you’ve said, it means so much to people and you want to be worthy of that. You have to acknowledge that and be careful with it. Some days that’s tough, if you’re not in the mood.

I know you’re returning to the stage later this year to portray Macbeth. You’ve previously voiced the role for BBC Sounds, but how are you feeling about taking on the character in the theater?

I’m really excited about it. It’s been a while since I’ve done Shakespeare. It’s very thrilling but equally — and this analogy probably doesn’t stretch — it’s like when someone prepares for an Olympic event. It does feel like a bit of a mountain and, yeah, you’re daring to set yourself up against some fairly worthy competition from down the years. That’s both the challenge and the horror of doing these types of things. We’ve got a great director, Max Webster, who recently did “Life of Pi.” He’s full of big ideas. It’s going to be exciting, thrilling, and a little bit scary. I’m just going to take a deep breath.

Before we part ways, let’s discuss the future of “Good Omens.” Gaiman has said that he already has ideas for Season 3, should it happen. If you were to do another season, is there anyone in particular you’d love to work with next time around or anything specific you’d like to see happen for Crowley?

Oh, Neil Gaiman knows exactly where he wants to take it. If you’re working with people like Gaiman, I wouldn’t try to tamper with that creative void. Were he to ask my opinion, that would be a different thing, but I can’t imagine he would. He’s known these characters longer than me and what’s interesting is what he does with them. That’s the bit that I’m desperate to know. I do know where Crowley might end up next, but it would be very wrong if I told you.

[At this point, Tennant picks up a pencil and starts writing on a hotel pad of paper.]

I thought you were going to write it down for me then. Perhaps like a clandestine meeting on a bench in St James’ Park, but instead you’d write the information down and slide it across the table…

I should have done! I was drawing a line, which obviously, psychologically, I was thinking, “Say no more. You’re too tempted to reveal a secret!” It was my subconscious going “Shut the fuck up!”

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gurugirl · 3 months

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ex-boyfriend's dad!harry part 2

Summary: Harry wants to show you what you've been missing if you'll let him. OR The filthy smutty one.

A/N: This full series is already live on Patreon, with all 4 parts up! Part 3 will be posted here in one week. THIS PART HAS NEARLY 9K WORDS OF SMUT ALONE. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.

Word Count: 10.8k

Series Warnings: explicit content, smut (including anal, rough blow jobs), age gap, angst, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, choking, slight degradation, use of small implements (collar and leash, anal plug)

Part 2 Warnings: smut, rough blow job training, age gap, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, use of anal plug, use of collar and leash, choking, slight degradation, spitting, size kink (as always), anal play

ex-boyfriend's dad!harry masterlist

. . .

It felt like one of your fantasies, to have Harry’s eyes on you in your bedroom, where you knew he was about to do some very unwholesome things to you. He said he was going to show you what it felt like to be eaten out by a man who enjoys it and that was... Well, that was the hottest thing you’d ever heard when it was coming from his mouth.

You sat on your bed and watched as Harry rolled his sleeves up to his elbows as if he was about to do some manual labor, “You look cute tonight, Y/n. Did you have me in mind when you picked out those shorts?”

You looked down at your lap and smiled before looking at him, “Yes.”

“Did you eat before I came over?”

Now this question caught you off guard. You shook your head, “Uh… no. I ate earlier. Like one o’clock I think?”

He tutted at you as he removed his belt, pulling the leather from the belt loops on his pants, “We’ll eat something after we’re done here. Okay?”

You nodded. In truth, you liked that he planned something after you were done. It meant that he’d be sticking around a bit longer. Maybe he’d stay all night. You didn’t want to push your luck.

This was a side of Harry you hadn’t really gotten to see before. Somehow his demeanor was filling in tiny cracks you didn’t know needed filled. It felt like things were sealing and fusing together inside of you as you watched him move about and talk to you the way he was. Like he knew exactly what he was doing.

Your bedroom seemed so small with him standing in it, his eyes on you while you sat in wait on your bed. Waiting for him to tell you what to do next. Waiting to see what he was going to do and how he’d do it.

He took one long-legged step toward your bed and dropped the heavy black belt onto your light blue comforter before he sat next to you.

You kept your eyes on his movements as if your life depended on it. You watched his hand draw up to your chin and felt his fingers squeeze into your skin before he pulled your face in toward his and ran his smooth lips up your jaw, “I’m gonna make you feel so good Y/n.”

You closed your eyes and every part of you was open to him. Pliable and willing. Whatever he wanted. However he wanted it. You wanted it if he was going to be the one doing it.

He pressed his fingers into the hollows of your cheeks with his large palm pressing to the underside of your chin, his thumb on one side and pointer finger on the other of your face when he pressed his lips to yours. The juxtaposition of his soft lips and his harsh grip had you spinning. He was directing the entire thing and angling your face toward his the way he wanted. You sat your palm on his upper thigh to balance yourself and that’s when he pushed his tongue into your mouth. Wet and hot. You opened up for him and felt his tongue lap against yours.

The pitiful moan that fell from your chest had him smiling against your lips, “You like to be handled a little rough, Y/n?”

You nodded against his mouth before he parted from the kiss, “I can tell.” He released his grip from your face and ran his fingers along your temple, “If you want to see me again after this then we’ll get into a little more of what I think you’ll like and things I like. We’ll go over the rules. But there’s no pressure today. Okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled at him. But… See him again? Get into things he likes? That had your heart lobbing in your chest with satisfaction.

“I might hold you tight with my hands to keep you still, maybe do a few little things just to see how you like it, but nothing too rough or uncomfortable. If you don’t like something just tell me. Today we’re just gonna have some fun and get ourselves sorted out.”

You watched him shift and your hand fell away from his thigh as he gripped your sides and pushed you up to your pillows before rubbing his hands down your thighs and over your shins before pushing your legs apart, “Keep your legs open for me. I don’t want you closing them, even if you feel like you want to or it’s your natural urge. There will be consequences,” he smirked at you before continuing, “Nothing severe, though. We’re just playing right, Y/n?” He pushed his hands up the insides of your thighs as his green eyes seared into you.

You grinned and bobbed your head up and down in agreement as you looked from his eyes to where his hands were inching closer to your crotch, his fingers sneaking under the hem of your shorts (which were quite short).

He lifted your left leg first, keeping his eyes on yours as he smushed his plush lips against the inside of your thigh, “Ever since you told me that you weren’t getting the favor returned to you I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. About doing this to you. To show you what you’ve been missing. Feels like I need to make up for what Tyler wouldn’t do. So you know that kind of behavior doesn’t run in the family.”

His lips trailed over your soft flesh and up to the hem of your shorts, using his thumb to push the material up so he could get his mouth as close to your core as possible without actually being close enough to your very center.

He switched to your other thigh, placing your left leg down on the bed and lifting the right one the same way he did with the other, “Knew you’d be so good for me. Didn’t want to admit it then but I certainly imagined it. Do you know what I did that night after we got out of the pool?”

You shook your head, “No. What?”

He grinned, moving his mouth further up again and to the hem of your shorts, “It’s shameful and dirty but I couldn’t help it, Y/n. Before I tell you what I did,” he pushed your shorts up and applied a wet open mouth kiss to your skin, “I have to be honest. I saw your pretty little pussy that night.”

You blinked your eyes as you listened to him. You didn’t mean to let your mouth drop open the way it did because you kind of suspected he had. But to hear him say it…

“When I pushed you out of the water you opened your legs, and I saw you. That image has been burned into my memory. Can’t stop seeing it, Y/n.”

You inhaled sharply as he dropped your right leg and began to put his hands into the band of your shorts, “Taking these off. Okay?”

You nodded, your eyes darting down to where he began to pull your stretchy shorts down your legs until you were only left in your panties (picked out just for the occasion) and t-shirt.

You watched Harry’s eyes rove over your thighs and hips, his hands smoothing over you and down the side of your thighs before he dragged his knuckles down the center of your panties to your mound.

“That night, in my room I imagined you on your hands and knees for me, this pussy here,” he pressed over your labia and smoothed his thumb against the fabric of your panties, “just on display for me, peeking out from the back of your thighs.”

He licked his lips as he continued rubbing over your panties until he found the spot your clit was in and looked up at you, “I was so hard for you. And I felt awful, I really did, but I couldn’t stop seeing it, Y/n. I tried not to touch myself. Tried not to think about your breasts and your hips and this pretty bottom,” he kneaded at your upper thighs where the plush flesh met the curve of your butt. “But I couldn’t stop the sight of you from filling my head.”

You kept bouncing your sight from his fingers to his face as he continued.

“Mind if I pull this to the side? So I can see it again?”

“Yeah. It’s okay,” you nodded and held your breath as he hooked his finger into the crotch of your panties and pulled them aside. He cooed when your pussylips came into view and immediately pressed his thumb over your labia with the softest touch, smearing your arousal gently upward to your clit.

“When I couldn’t stop the picture of you naked and wet in the pool I began to ache. I tried willing my erection away but it didn’t work. I was in bed trying to think of anything else. I attempted to close my eyes and go to sleep but that only made it worse.”

“Then I started to leak. I wasn’t wearing anything. Went to bed naked because it hurt too much to put anything over my cock. But when I felt the moisture at my tip I knew I was fucked. My body was too turned on and I was dripping precome. I had to spread it down my shaft and stroked myself a little bit for relief but it felt too good.”

He sighed and you felt his fingers push your lips apart as he focused in on your pussy and then circled over your clit, making you moan.

“So I fucked my fist and imagined you were there, pressing your wet cunt up and down my cock and getting the relief I knew you were in need of. And even now, I can tell you need relief. So wet and puffy. Your skin is so hot.”

You swallowed and nodded shallowly as you watched him circle two fingers at your entrance and gently push in just the tips, “Want my fingers inside of you?”

“Yes,” you breathed, watching closely as he plunged his long finger into his last knuckle and you felt that yummy tightness of being filled up. He softly stroked along your walls, pushing in and pulling his fingers back as he looked from your eyes to your wet pussy and the mess you were making on his fingers.

“I need to tell you something else. Something Tyler told me because I think it’s only fair you know what he said. And I want to make sure it’s true. Okay?”

You nodded as he continued the languid pressing of his fingers inside of you.

“Said you liked being choked. Is that right?”

You blinked and nodded, “Well… yeah. I mean, I haven’t ever been so I don’t know but I wanted to see if I liked it. I think I will.”

He nodded, “And you want to be spit on? In your mouth?”

You let out a shaky breath and nodded, “On my tongue. And here,” you moved your hand down to where Harry was pumping his fingers inside of you.

“Oh yeah? Like this?”

You watched as he pulled his fingers from your opening and gathered saliva on his tongue before gripping your thighs and tilting your hips up. He spat over you, the warm spray of his spit landing on your labia and the space over your entrance had you moaning and lifting so you could see it better as he smeared the liquid under his digits and then pushed it inside of you, continuing to fuck you with his fingers.

“Yes. Just like that…” You looked at his face in awe as he leaned across and grabbed the back of your neck with his free hand.

“Open your mouth. Stick your tongue out.”

He tilted your neck back and your lips drew open wide, your tongue slipping past your mouth before you felt the drizzle of his saliva coating your tongue and then he pressed his mouth over yours softly before sitting back and letting go of your neck, his fingers still fucking into you slowly.

You were already panting, frazzled, burning hot, desperate. He could see it. The change in you. The sudden shift in the way you were breathing, your eyes, your lips… everything told him you wanted more.

“Did you like that?” You could hear the wet sound of your pussy being fingered by the man who just spit in your mouth. The first man to ever do so. Your brain was turning to mush but you managed to nod your head in response.

“And you want to try anal sex too? True?”

You swallowed thickly. You wanted to be honest with him so you were, “I’ve used toys on myself so I know I like it. Just never had anyone do it to me.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed at you and he licked his lips, “What kind of toys, Y/n?”

You moaned when he stroked against something that made your insides tingle, “Dildo. I also have a plug I like to wear when I… play with myself.”

“When you masturbate?”

You nodded and then he applied his thumb over your clit and you dropped your mouth wide.

“Do you use a vibrator? Dildo?”

You sucked in a deep breath and tried to keep yourself calm but his fingers were magic, “Both. I like… oh god…” you closed your eyes and breathed at the sensation he was giving you, “I use the plug and then masturbate with a dildo, push it in and I can feel the plug pressing it… ooohh mmm…” you moaned and rolled your hips up.

“That’s good, Y/n. So good for me, honey,” you could hear the change in his voice. He sounded quite ruttish himself. “I like all those things too. If you want them, I’ll give them to you. Okay? That is if you want more after today.”

You nodded and continued to gasp in between pants as he hastened his fingers, his knuckles thwacking into you harder.

Suddenly he’d pulled his fingers out of you and you felt his hands at the top of the waistband of your panties, “These are very pretty but I need them gone because I’m gonna eat your pussy now. Sound good, Y/n?”

He kept his eyes on yours as you nodded and peeped out a yes.

The silk and lacy fabric was tossed into your room faster than you could wrap your brain around when he was crawling himself down until his mouth was inches from your cunt.

You watched him carefully as he focused his gaze on yours, “This what you want, Y/n? Want your ex’s daddy? Yeah?”

The guttural moan that fell from your lips when he said it filled your bedroom, “Yes. I want it.”

Now you knew he’d said daddy to get some kind of reaction from you. You certainly always thought of him as such regardless, but with him on your bed in your bedroom with your pussy wet and on display for him it all felt so intense. So raw.

“I know you do. Who’s gonna keep you satisfied in bed, sweet girl? Tell me who you want doing this to you,” he smeared his fingers up and down your labia, pushing your slick around and painting your pussylips and clit with arousal.

“You. I want you to do it.”

His pink tongue poked out from his lips to wet his mouth, “That’s right. You want Daddy to take care of you. Yeah?” His brows raised at you.

You whimpered and tossed your neck back when he pressed his tongue over your clit and then removed it in a cruel tease, “Yes!”

“Who’s gonna take good care of you, honey? Tell me. I wanna hear you say it.”

You popped your eyes open and looked at him, hovering over your cunt with an evil grin set on his face. You knew what he wanted to hear.

“You’re gonna take care of me… Daddy. You.”

He moaned and immediately ducked down to kiss your clit into his mouth and then licked upward from your entrance, “Good girl,” he spoke as he split your labia with his tongue and found your clit, wrapping his lips around you and began to eat you alive. It felt like that. A man, starved, devouring your soft flesh and wet bits.

You could only let out breathy pants and whiny moans as he worked your pussy like no one ever had. Tongue and lips and hot breath over your core… wide open mouth sucking you in… You let out a garbled moan when he pushed two fingers back inside of you. Your arms and legs were jelly and each time he looked at you it reminded you that this wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t just one of your fantasies. You were getting eaten out by your ex-boyfriend’s dad.

The sound of slippery fingers pressing wetly into your body was lined with slurps and sucks as he used his free hand to hold your right thigh in place.

“Oh my god!” You yelped and pushed yourself up by your elbows to watch as he flicked his tongue back and forth over your clit before he flattened it and carved a naughty route around your wet button. He alternated between the slow slide of his tongue around your collection of nerves and pressing over it in meaningful flicks as his fingers pumped into you and glided over your front wall, dipping into your g-spot.

The combination of his fingers and his mouth was exactly what you needed. What you’d been craving.

You laid back into the bed when it was too much to keep yourself up to watch and you heard him puff out a laughed breath against you, “Feel good? This what you wanted?”

A whimper was pushed from your lungs as you gasped, “Fuck. Yes!”

It was like your body was slowly sizzling and cooking, rendering out juices and softening, gradually becoming fork tender. You were sure that once he was done snacking on your pussy you’d be nothing but a slippery puddle on your bed.

You felt as if your body was not your own as Harry worked you with his mouth and fingers. You gave in to him completely as you slid your shaky hands down to his head and felt his hair between your fingers.

And it wasn’t just good. It didn’t just feel satisfying. It felt like something beyond what you could describe. It had your insides churning and liquifying as your brain turned to a mushy mess of need and ache.

“Oh!” You cried out as that familiar tingle spread over your core and through your tummy. The sound of your moans set Harry off as he began to press his tongue harder onto your clit, slipping his tongue back and forth and curling his fingers against your front wall.

You could feel the wetness spread to your ass which just made you feel hotter… you knew it was a mix of his spit and your own arousal dripping down to your anus and then to your comforter.

But then Harry removed his mouth and you peeked down at him as he placed the pads of his fingers over your clit and circled as he spat on you again, but this time lower, under the spot his fingers were stuffed and you felt it on your ass as you began to tremble from his fingers inside of you and the ones on your clit.

He moved his fingers from your clit and looked up at you quickly as lowered his hand to your anus and poked at your empty hole with his middle finger, “I can tell you’re about to come, Y/n. You ready for this, baby?”

You whined and nodded, “Yes, Daddy.”

He grinned at you calling him Daddy and then slowly pressed his finger into your ass, his other hand still stroking his fingers inside of your pussy, lifting the slightest so he could get a good look at how he was stuffing you with his digits.

The moment he’d gotten his middle finger tucked deep into your bum you let out a strange gasp and then he brought his mouth back to your clit.

It was the perfect trifecta that had you quivering and wetly mumbling nonsense into your room. Not something you’d ever even imagined, even in your wildest dreams. To have a man fingering your ass with one hand, fucking his fingers into your pussy with his other, and slurping on your clit with his mouth.

You convulsed and your thighs shook violently as you tugged at his hair tightly. You weren’t you in that very moment. You were just some being who was at the mercy of another as he orchestrated your orgasm like he already knew how you were going to respond. Like he knew better than you did.

Having anything tucked into your ass while you were masturbating was always a guarantee for an intense orgasm. But having Harry’s finger pressing into you and his slippery mouth working over your clit like it was just did something else. Something primitive and innate.

He was going into your pussy so hard your butt was lifted off the bed and you were flopping and squirming as your release hit you like a hammer. You felt it in your jaw and your heart, your ribs were expanding and contracting as you sucked in as much air as you could before crying out loudly.

You had no control of any of your limbs or the way your pussy clenched and spasmed over his fingers. You weren’t sure what you were saying or if real words were even coming out of your mouth. Your mind was blurry and you were beholden to the way Harry was manipulating you with his fingers and his tongue.

Moments went by where you were sure you were unconscious. You’d lost yourself for a moment in blurry bliss but then you heard his deep voice cooing at you. His words weren’t registering but his voice brought you back slowly.

You threw your arm over your eyes as you panted for oxygen, chest rising and falling violently. You had no power over the way your legs were still trembling, but then you felt Harry’s big hands gently rubbing up and down your thighs.

“There we go… just relax, baby,” he spoke softly, trying to settle you and bring you back with small squeezes, fingers indenting into your skin and thumbs gliding along your muscles.

You felt him wrap a hand around your wrist and lift your arm from your face, “Let me see you. Look at me, Y/n.”

You slowly blinked your eyes opened to see him leaning over you. His hair was a mess from how you’d yanked at his roots and he was flushed with dark pupils as he grinned at you, “So pretty. Feel better now?”

You nodded and sighed as he adjusted his position and fell to the bed next to you, pulling you into his arms.

“We’ll just lie here for a minute. Talk a bit. Okay? Want you to come down a little. Get your bearings.” His delicate touch on your temple, the pad of his thumb rubbing at your skin had you swooning. This man was too good.

“Okay,” you drew your hand up to his shoulder and smiled.

“I’ll make you something to eat after we’re done here if you don’t mind me rummaging through your kitchen. Is that okay?”

“You don’t have to do that, Harry. I can make something–“

“So does that mean you don’t want me going through your fridge?”

“No. I don’t care if you go through my fridge,” you laughed, “I just meant I can do it.”

Harry grinned at you, “Yeah but you didn’t do it before I came over and we need to make sure you eat. So it’s settled. I’ll make you something. But first,” he ran his fingers down the skin on your cheek to the edge of your mouth, “I wanted to try one more thing. Something you told me you liked when we were in the pool that night.”

You kept your eyes on his and when his lips pulled up into a devilish grin you understood what he meant before he even said it, making your own lips tug upward.

“You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

You nodded, still grinning back at him.

His thumb trailed over your bottom lip before pressing down on it, making you open up for him as he smushed his digit into your mouth and over your tongue where you closed your lips and sucked.

He watched you suckle at his digit and pull at it with your lips, “It’s something else I can’t stop dreaming of. Imagining you on your knees with my cock down your throat. And I have no qualms about making you gag either, honey. Make you drool and choke on it. I’ll take it easy on you tonight, though.”

You kept sucking on his thumb as you hummed and nodded, your eyes bobbing from his lips to his pretty eyes as he spoke.

He slowly slid his thumb from your lips and watched your saliva follow his digit as he pulled it away. He pushed himself to sit up and pulled you with him. His hands clutched the bottom hem of your t-shirt, “We’re gonna get you naked. Might get a little messy. Okay?”

“Okay.” You felt like your voice was small and far away as he dragged the fabric up your torso and off your head. The moment your shirt was gone his finger brushed up your skin to your bra, which matched the panties that were lying somewhere on your floor.

You watched his face as he reached around and unhooked your bra clasp, “This is pretty, Y/n. You were so sweet to think of me when you dressed before I came over,” he spoke lowly as your bra fell off your shoulders and was pushed to the side before he cupped your nude tits in his hands, “But I like this a lot better.”

He ducked down and wrapped his lips over your nipple as he kneaded and squeezed the other. You gasped at the harsh tug he gave you and you ran your fingers into his hair and arched your back into him. He continued licking and sucking until he’d gotten both sides. Pulling at your nipples and then licking the spot, the cool air drawing chills over your skin.

The attention he gave your body was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. You were floating and your heart was pounding and your body was on fire.

When he pulled away you watched him get off your bed. He kept his eyes on you and your body as he unbuttoned his shirt. Every button revealing more of his masculine build, dark tattoos, him.

And you’d seen all of him before. Not his dick, not directly, but you knew it was nice. The glimpses you caught as he was naked in the pool with you told you all you needed to know.

He shrugged his shirt off onto the floor and then you noted the bulky lump under his pants. He sighed as he unbuttoned his pants and then began to pull them down his hips and his thighs. You wouldn’t take your eyes off the spectacle. You already knew his body was insane. But knowing that you were in the midst of a sexual encounter with him and that body felt surreal.

His boxer briefs hugged tightly to his erect cock and you kept your eyes on it as he pushed those down his strong thighs. When he stood upright after getting his briefs off you slid from the bed and got to your knees, as if by some invisible force. You didn’t even make the conscious decision to kneel in front of him and sit back on your calves with your eyes dragging over the healthy cock attached to the man standing in front of you.

Healthy. Sure. You could see that much. All of him was strong and healthy. Virile. But it was big. Thick, long, pretty. You hated that a small section of your brain compared him with Tyler instantly. But you couldn’t help it. It was stunning and it was just yet another thing that Tyler lacked that his father made up for.

“Look at you. Didn’t even need to tell you what to do,” he ran a hand over the back of your head, petting you like you were a well-behaved puppy.

You looked up at him with rounded eyes and parted lips. You couldn’t wait to get him in your mouth.

Harry smiled proudly down at you as he gripped his shaft and slowly stroked himself in front of your face. He watched your eyes dart from his cock to his face as you waited for him to tell you what to do next.

“Who’s cock do you wanna suck, honey?” His deep voice penetrated your skin and you were simply vibrating from everything he did and said.

“Your cock, Daddy.” You kept your eyes connected to his as you answered him. Your mouth was already pooling with saliva at the anticipation of tasting him. Of feeling him in your mouth.

His knuckles ghosted down your cheekbone with his free hand as he continued pumping his cock with his other. His tip dangerously close to your lips.

You wiggled in your spot and swallowed as you blinked up at him and he watched you wait patiently for him to start. Because he was in charge. And you knew he was.

“Go on then. Take a little sip,” he smeared the bit of precome on his tip over your lips and you nearly fainted as you grasped around his hand over his cock and closed your eyes, parting your mouth. You stuck out your tongue, cupping the underside of his head before you wrapped your lips around his tip and it was heaven. To have your mouth and tongue on him. Knowing he was going to give you another experience you’d always longed for.

You suckled and curved your tongue under him, feeling his smooth skin in your mouth as you looked up at him before attempting to go deeper.

He was glorious standing above you with his eyes on your face as you sucked him. His abs and the dark tattoos, muscled pecs, broad shoulders… All you wanted to do was choke on him. Give him the best head he’d ever gotten, feel him pushing down your throat, and hear him groaning.

He moved his hand away from his cock as you began to use your palm as an extension of your mouth, warming yourself up to take him deeper.

“You gonna slide down further, honey? Want to know what it feels like?” He softly placed his hand at the back of your head as you bobbed over him, your saliva coating him as you spread it with your hand over his shaft.

Bringing your lips back to his tip you swirled your tongue around his frenulum and pulled back, continuing to pump him with your hand in long strokes, “I want to make you feel good. I’ve never done it like this before. I’m worried about my teeth hurting you…”

He grinned down at you and rubbed your head, “That’s a good sign that you don’t want to hurt me,” he chuckled. “We’ll take it slow. Get some practice. See how deep you can handle it, okay?”

You nodded and puckered your lips to kiss his cockhead and then pressed devoted kisses down his shaft and back up to his crown before wrapping your lips back around him and cradling the bottom of his cock with your tongue as you slid down further and back to his tip.

His gravelly sigh egged you on. It sounded like he was enjoying what you were doing and that was exactly what you wanted.

You forced your eyes to look up at him so you would watch his face and his brows were already stitched together as he watched you on his cock.

“Bring your hand down to my balls, sweetheart. Squeeze gently and then I want to feel you push your throat down further on me. Okay? Let’s see how deep you can manage.”

You moaned as you moved your hand from his shaft to his scrotum and palmed at them before pressing your hands around them with care. He moaned as his eyes stayed on you.

Sucking in a deep breath through your nose you forced your mouth down further, the thick girth filling your mouth then his tip curving against the roof of your mouth and slipping against your tonsils.

You coughed around him and felt the urge to gag as you pulled back and then repeated, trying to get lower and keep him in your throat longer.

It took a few tries. You’d get as low as possible and feel the sting of your sinuses awakening tears in your eyes as you gurgled over him and pulled back for air.

On your fourth try, lips smearing down his shaft and drool wetting your chin you heard him moan loudly, “Fuck, baby. You’re doing so good. Gonna get you used to this so I can fuck your mouth like you wanted. I think you can do better, though. Need help?”

You felt his hand grip the back of your head as he asked if you needed help and you moaned over his cock and pulled back, still kneading his balls softly in your palm. Sucking in a deep breath of air you nodded, tears on your face already, being the amateur that you were at deep throating, “Yeah. Push me down. My natural urge is to keep backing up once I gag but I want more of you in my throat.”

Harry’s plush pink lips raised in a grin, “Okay, baby. We'll practice this. I’m gonna push you down slowly okay? Want you to close your eyes and open wide, keep your tongue out, and take in a big breath before I do it. Yeah? Then pinch my thigh if you need me to let go. But you’re gonna need to hold your breath for a little bit because I’m gonna hold you down as far as we can get you today. Ready?”

You took a deep breath and nodded, “Yes, Daddy.”

Harry sucked in a sharp breath at how you’d so easily fallen into calling him Daddy as he adjusted his hold on your head before helping you back onto his cock.

You opened your mouth and kept your tongue out like he told you and you felt his velvety skin slip over your tongue slowly until his tip was sliding against your tonsils and you felt that instinctive gag reflex begin to take over. But he pushed in past your tonsils and you squeezed your eyes shut as you felt him curve down your throat, inch by inch as you gulped around him automatically and gagged until you were without air. He moaned loudly as your throat constricted around his tip and he pressed your head down until your nose was against his pelvis and your lips were just grazing at the base of his shaft.

“Oh fuck… just like that baby… Daddy’s gonna teach you everything you need to know. So fucking good,” you felt him thrust shallowly, pushing his tip in and pulling back slightly as he began to gently fuck your face.

You held your breath and felt his wide cock sliding in and out of your throat as he groaned and massaged the back of your head lovingly. You wanted more. Wanted to give him whatever he wanted. Loved how he was praising you and enjoying your mouth, using it how he liked.

“Shit, Y/n… Look so pretty like this for me… Oh my god…” his voice was shaky as he grunted his words.

Suddenly he pulled back until his tip was at your lips and you coughed a gasp, inhaling air as you felt your saliva drip down your chin.

“Open up, honey, keep that mouth wide open…” Harry stood over you, his hand still at the back of your head as he began to stroke himself, his tip slipping over your tongue and his guttural moans had your heart pumping wildly as you peeked up at him through the tears in your eyes.

His face was twisted up as he panted with his arm flexing as he pumped himself against your tongue. You’d long forgotten about his balls as you gripped his sturdy thighs and blinked up at him with your tongue out.

“Oh shit… fuck…” he looked down at you and your tongue as he felt his balls squeeze against his body, “Gonna come, baby… where do you want it,” his words were rushed and breathy.

“In my mouth, Daddy. Want to taste it,” you spoke quickly before opening your mouth wide again stuck your tongue out to cradle his tip and he choked out a loud moan as he began to come on your tongue, a bit getting on your lips before you pushed in closer to keep his tip in your mouth as he fucked his cock with his big palm, his knees bent slightly to get the angle right.

His string of groans and pants had you giving him an open-mouthed grin as he drained himself into your mouth and on your tongue.

Harry’s chest heaved as he emptied every last drop and then he looked down at you again, pressing his tip against your tongue over the bit of come you still had in your mouth.

You closed your lips around his tip and sucked making him hiss. He cupped your jaw and looked down at you smugly before pulling his cock from your lips, “Swallow it all down, Y/n.”

You gulped him down and kept your eyes pinned to his.

“Let me see that tongue. Show Daddy you didn’t waste anything.”

You stuck your tongue out and angled your head back so he could see down your throat and he rubbed a thumb over your cheekbone, “Gonna be so fucking good baby. It’s only gonna feel better the more practice we get. Blew me away, Y/n,” he grinned as he helped you stand up and then pulled you into his arms, his mouth finding yours.

You could feel his chest rising and falling as he was still recovering from his orgasm. Your cheeks burned hot at all the praise and confidence he gave you.

He parted from the kiss and ran his hands up your arms, “Let’s go get cleaned up and then make something to eat.”

That was something else you’d never experienced. Having a man help you clean up and touching you after a sexual encounter. You were used to Tyler rolling over and letting you clean yourself up. Good luck ever getting him to hold you after. It was like he got his and that was all he needed.

But Harry spoke to you about what you might want to eat as he wetted a clean washcloth you pulled out from your cabinet and held you against your bathroom counter as he dabbed your thighs and sensitive skin on your pussy and then last to your backside as if it were second nature. As if he’d done it to you a million times before.

And you thought you were going to settle down and get your hormones in check after giving him that blow job (which had turned you on so much your vision was blurry). You figured the cleanup process would be the furthest thing from sexy but you’d been wrong.

Maybe it was how attentive he was with you, or the way he held you in place as he spoke so nonchalantly about what you had in your refrigerator as you both stood naked in your small bathroom. Maybe it was his gaze over your body as he made sure you were taken care of and cleaned up properly.

Whatever it was, it only made your heart wallop in your chest and your pussy stay wet despite his attempts at getting you wiped.

And he knew it too. You could see the smug smile as he kept wiping at you but part of you thought he was doing it on purpose in a way. Bumping the rag against your clit might not have been an accident. Perhaps it was to keep you wanting more of him.

He handed you your shorts and t-shirt to slip on as he pulled his boxer briefs up his legs.

Harry got to work in your kitchen. It was just a simple thing for you to eat. Eggs and toast with butter which all came together rather quickly. He made some for himself as well.

It was quite something watching a man cook in your kitchen. Especially when it was Harry. His back was clear of tattoos, but you could see them on his ribs and arms as he pushed the spatula under the eggs to flip them. His lats flexing and butt filling out his briefs in a way Tyler could only wish for.

But when he turned around with two plates and brought them to your table (where you were already seated) his front was something made of dreams. His body had you in a choke hold, even at nearly twice your age the man was more attractive than maybe anyone you’d ever laid eyes on.

Even the front of his crotch where his natural bulge sat was pretty. The way the elastic band of his underwear hugged his hips, his belly button…

“One would think you hadn’t just had an orgasm, Y/n.” He grinned. You’d been caught staring at his body. You couldn’t help it.

You laughed, “You’re just really good-looking.”

Harry sat down after placing both plates on the table, taking a big bite of toast, and chewed before responding, “And you’re just really gorgeous,” his eyes trailed down your frame and to your thighs. Even clothed you felt as if he was looking at your naked body.

You swallowed down your bite of egg and laughed through your nose, putting your hand up to cover your mouth as you shook your head.

“Why are you shaking your head no?”

“I don’t know. Feels weird to just accept a compliment like that.”

“What do you mean? Did my son never tell you how breathtaking you are?”

You looked down at your plate and shook your head, “Well… no,” before looking back into his eyes, “Not really. He seemed to be annoyed by me most of the time.”

Harry hummed as he looked you over and then patted his lap, “Come here.”

You bit your lip and pushed yourself out of your chair to sit in his lap like he wanted. Harry adjusted his thighs to accommodate you comfortably and pulled your back against his chest placing a hand on the top of your thigh, “He never treated you like you deserved.” His thumb smoothed over the skin on the outside of your thigh, “I’m glad you broke up with him. Surprised you put up with it for so long.”

You smiled to yourself quietly and felt flustered. Harry was such a change from what you’d been used to. He was sweet and it seemed so genuine. But the way he took control in bed and gave you a taste of what you really wanted… Honestly, it felt like he liked you more than his son who you dated for almost two years.

Harry pushed your legs to drape off the side of his thighs so he could look at you as he picked up his fork to take a bite and chew. You smiled at him and took another bite. You were hungrier than you thought and Harry had made the perfect over-easy eggs just like you liked.

“You believe that right? That you deserved so much better.”

You blinked your eyes as you looked at him. His face was so close to yours and his lap was warm under your bottom, “I think I knew I deserved better. It’s just easier said than done. But it’s over now. So…” you shrugged.

Harry nodded as he chewed the last bite of his toast bringing his hand up to your face. You loved that he seemed to continue giving you soft touches as if he wanted to keep letting you know, even nonverbally, that you were special. And it did make you feel special. Made you feel giddy. You were sure he could feel your heart pounding.

“Well don’t ever let anyone take you for granted like that.” You could still feel his thumb dragging over your thigh.

You finished your bite as he moved his hand from your face and asked a question you’d wanted to ask since you stepped into the kitchen, “Will you stay over?”

You didn’t know what had possessed you to ask this man to stay the night. Why you felt like you had to ask. Why you felt like you didn’t want him to just leave. Perhaps you were emboldened by the closeness of him. The way he was touching you and looking at you. You guessed it was because he made you feel a little more confident.

Harry smiled as he looked down your mouth and back to your eyes, “You want me to stay?”

You widened your eyes and let your gaze fall away from his face to the wall behind him and shrugged, “If you wanted.” Now the shame and embarrassment of rejection began to rise up your spine. Of course, he’d say no. What more would he need from you?

You heard Harry sigh and then he took your chin in his hand and moved your head to look at him, “I would love to stay the night with you. I just need to warn you,” he cleared his throat as you watched him intently, “If I’m in your bed next to you all night I’m going to have trouble keeping my hands off of you. Kind of like right now,” he smiled. “Is that going to bother you?”

You began to grin wider, “No. It won’t bother me. That’s kind of what I wanted.”

“Yeah? You wanted my hands on you?”

You nodded, keeping the smile on your face.

Both of your plates were empty as Harry put his hands on your hips and pulled your side flush to his chest, “Want me to fuck you, Y/n? Is that what you want?” His words were spoken against your ear.

You nodded and turned to look at him.

“Okay. You just need to be taken care of, don’t you?” He placed a hand on your jaw, his thumb rubbing down the side of your neck, “Poor thing was mistreated for too long. I’m gonna make sure you get everything you need, Y/n.”

You kept nodding as your brows pulled together. You didn’t realize how much you needed it. How much you’d been missing out on but Harry could see it. He recognized how unappreciated you’d been.

“I think you see it now, don’t you?”

“Yes. I think I do.”

Harry’s plush lips pressed into the space on your neck just under your jaw and you dropped your mouth open, tilting your neck back for him. You felt his arm wrap around your front as he slowly worked his mouth down your neck and then to the front.

When a moan rattled from your throat Harry placed his palm on the back of your neck and smudged his lips over yours before you opened your mouth to him.

You lifted your arm to bring it over his shoulder and twisted in to face him. You felt Harry’s fingers slip under your cotton t-shirt, fingers gliding up your skin until he found your breasts and ran his palms over your nipples.

The longer he played with your breasts, ghosting his fingers and knuckles over them, the more desperate you grew as his tongue pressed into yours. Chills rose over your skin and you shifted again, trying to get closer but it was impossible.

Harry parted from the kiss, “Let’s get you in bed under the covers. You’ve got goosebumps all over.”

You puffed out a laugh. The raised skin was definitely not from being chilled and you knew he knew it when he squeezed your tit and smirked down at you. Regardless, you wanted to get back in bed with him because after sucking him off you were quite turned on. No. You were very turned on. In fact, when you sat down in Harry’s lap you could tell your shorts were getting a little damp on the inside, and now that you’d shifted over his thigh on his boxer briefs, as you slid off his lap, you could see the small wet patch you’d made.

Harry kept his hands on your shoulders as he walked behind you to your bedroom and then he pulled your blankets back for you to climb in. You watched him get in next to you and pull the blankets over both of you before he dragged you against his chest and wrapped his arms around you.

The slow movement of his lips against yours and the dab of his tongue over your tongue felt like all you needed. The intimacy in the kiss was almost therapeutic. You’d been starved of affection, of spontaneity and Harry was just dousing you in it.

When you felt his hand travel down your backside and push underneath your shorts he palmed over your bottom softly before dragging his fingers down a little more and that’s when he felt how wet you were.

He smiled against your mouth, “Love how wet you get for me. Such a treat,” he ran his fingers through your folds and then pushed at your shorts to get them off.

You hurriedly helped him push them down your legs and then pulled your t-shirt off as Harry dragged his boxer briefs down his legs and kicked them off somewhere in your bed.

When you rolled to your side to face him you lowered your hand to his cock, already half hard as he pulled you in by the back of your neck to bring your mouth against his once again.

You stroked his shaft as he pushed his fingers through your folds, both moaning between kisses.

Shifting your hips you lifted your thigh to lay it over his and urged yourself toward him to move your cunt along his shaft. Harry hissed when he felt you wetting his skin.

Suddenly he pushed you to your back and he fit himself between your open thighs, taking your wrists and pushing them down to the mattress over your head, “You gotta be careful when you slide your wet pussy over my cock like that. Next time you do that I’m just gonna split you right open and fuck into you without asking first. But I’m trying to be gentleman tonight, Y/n.”

You screwed up your face and moaned, “That’s all I want, Daddy…”

Harry groaned dragging his shaft over you and you tilted your hips up so he could just press in and put you out of your misery.

Harry chuckled and let go of your wrists as he sat back and took his cock in his palm, painting himself up and down your drippy cunt, “You on birth control?”

You nodded, “Yes.”

“Want Daddy’s cock inside of you?”

You moaned another yes and bucked your hips toward him.

The grin on his face was almost sinister as he took your hands and pulled them down to the insides of your knees pressing your thighs back against your chest, “Hold yourself open like this for me.”

You gripped the back of your knees and kept yourself angled and spread for him, your knees pressed to either side of your tits when you felt him dragging his cock through your crease slowly, his eyes moving from your face to your pussy.

“Need some relief, Y/n?” He teasingly pressed his ruddy tip to your entrance, pushing slightly before sliding his cock upward to bump into your clit.

“Please, Daddy!”

That sinister grin widened as he lined himself back up to your hole, “Look at me. Want you to pay close attention to who’s fucking you.”

The slow press of his fat head through your slippery muscle had you both dropping your mouths open.

“Ohhh…” you gasped as you felt him sliding through your insides and then pull back to his tip. He nudged his way in again slowly, finding himself deeper every time he pushed his way in. You were wrapped around his cock tightly as he continued rearing himself back and then pushing forward, letting your body get used to his girth inch by inch.

The moment you felt him tucked in deep, pressing into your cervix you wiggled under him and whined as he stilled his hips, keeping himself lodged inside of you as his cock twitched in satisfaction.

He brought his hand up to your face and squeezed your cheeks, making your lips open wider and you automatically stuck your tongue out as he leaned over your face and spat into your mouth.

You rolled your eyes into the back of your head and moaned as you swallowed his saliva down your throat and then you felt him shift, his palms at the back of your thighs, pressing you down into the bed as he pulled out to his tip and then rutted his hips forward, burying himself into the hilt with one swift thrust. And then he did it again and again until you could hear the slap of his skin against yours as the bedsprings bounced loudly in time with his motions.

Harry watched his cock disappear into your cunt and then up to the sight of your tits bouncing every time he slammed into you.

Your moans were gurgled as you struggled to make use of your voice with how deep he was penetrating you and how hard he was going at it.

Your slick walls were so warm and inviting, so perfect for his cock to fuck into. He couldn’t believe his son wouldn’t want to give you what you wanted. Who would throw away the chance to have you the way he was getting to?

“God, look at you, baby…” Harry panted as he slowed his hips and ground into you sharply, “Perfect pussy for Daddy’s cock. Needs stuffed full like this, yeah?” He continued circling his hips against yours, his cock reaching into your guts, the wet sound lewd and dirty.

You looked at his face as he pulled back slightly and then pushed in again, pasting his hips against yours, and leaning over you.

He pulled your hands away from the backs of your knees, and urged your legs down, your feet hitting the mattress as he thrust, his thighs flexing as he worked himself in and out slowly, “How does it feel, baby?”

The new angle provided your clit with the much-needed friction you craved as his pelvis rubbed over you.

“Feels so good. You’re so deep…” you breathed your words.

Harry’s hand found your jaw and his thumb swiped over your lips as you opened and wrapped your mouth around his digit and began to suck immediately.

His deep plunges didn’t let up as he looked down at you with your lips around his thumb. He hadn’t intended for you to take it in your mouth. He just wanted to touch your pouty bottom lip as he fucked you but he loved how eager you were to suck on his thumb.

He let out a shaky breath as he pressed his balls against you and moved his hand away, “Fuck baby… Need all your holes filled don’t you?”

The squelch of his cock breaching your cunt was answer enough. You were so wet and desperate for him that he could feel it and see it in your face as you nodded with your brows scrunched.

His hand moved to your neck, fingers pressing tentatively into the sides of your throat as he rocked into you.

Your mouth parted and you let out a guttural moan at the feel of his hand on your neck. He wasn’t squeezing hard but it felt so hot knowing he could hurt you but wouldn’t.

“You do like that…” he breathed, the front of his thighs against the back of yours as he languidly plunged in deep, “Fuck, baby… you might just be perfect for me.”

Your sob came out choked as you clasped your hands around his forearm that held you down by your neck. You wanted to respond to him but all that you could manage was mangled gulps.

And your head began to spin when your body gave in to him. You handed yourself over completely to his whim as you looked into his eyes. All you wanted to do was to make him feel good, make him want more and more and more.

The gushy wetness of your pussy being fucked into gave Harry a good idea of how much you were enjoying him. How good his cock felt inside of you.

“Is that the spot, right there?” He moaned as he slid his dick through your cunt and felt the bump along your front wall, his tip pressing into it with each pass.

You gurgled as your lips gaped and he squeezed a little more, “It is, isn’t it? Daddy’s gonna learn all your yummy spots, inside and out. Yeah? You gonna let me do that, honey? Gonna let me stick my cock in every one of your little holes and find out what makes you tick?”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head again as you began to shake. You’d never been choked before and even though you could tell Harry was taking it easy on you, it felt like floating in fluffy clouds and tasting rich chocolate cream on your tongue. All of your senses were heightened, your heart hammered in your chest as your pussy fluttered around him nearing your release.

“Oh that feels good, doesn’t it? Listen to how wet you are… the way your pussy sounds taking Daddy’s cock.”

He loosened his grip on your neck and you gasped before moaning loudly, “Yes… please, Daddy… you feel so good… I need you…”

Harry groaned as his thrusts grew sloppy, “Yeah? Gonna be a good girl and come all over my cock? Come for Daddy, baby…” His words were panted and strained as he spoke.

His hips were glued to yours as he rutted himself inward, your clit smearing against him as he kept his balls pressed against your ass and you began to unravel under him with a loud moan.

He coughed out a groan as he watched you lose it under him with a loud cry and he gently constricted his fingers around your neck as you clenched over him.

He could feel you vibrating and gushing around him and he released your neck, placing his palms on the mattress next to your shoulders, and began to pound into you, fucking you through your orgasm as he moaned and cooed at you.

Long strokes of his thick cock, as you spasmed around him, sent you into outer space. The sound of wet sex and your creaking bed frame sounded in the room as you cried out.

Harry watched your pretty face as he railed into you with sloppy thrusts. But the moment your cries turned into soft moans and your tensed muscles began to relax as you came down from your high Harry slid his length out of your cunt and pumped his cock, spurting warm come on your tummy and your tits with a deep moan.

Your chest heaved as you watched his arm flex with each stroke of his cock and his abs clenched in his orgasm. You were still floaty and buzzy but you wouldn’t miss watching his face as he milked his cock, draining himself over your skin.

“Fuck…” he breathed as he watched his come paint stripes over your breasts.

It’d been too long since he’d had sex with anyone and you were quite the special treat. Young and pretty with a kinky side he didn’t find in most people he tried dating after his ex-wife. Even she wasn’t that kinky.

But you… You were perfect. He could give you what you wanted. Could show you things most men your age wouldn’t know about.

Harry let go of his cock as he breathed heavily and cupped your face, “You okay?”

You nodded and gave him a soft smile, your eyes lulling open and shut, “Yes, Daddy…” you whispered.

Harry grinned at how cute you were and pushed himself up and off the bed, “Stay right here angel. I’ll be right back.”

The next thing you knew he was wiping you up and kissing your arm and up your neck, “Such a good girl, Y/n.”

His soft words were like a tranquilizer. You could hardly keep your eyes open as he turned off your lamp and then climbed into bed behind you, pulling your back into his chest. All you knew was how warm his skin felt and how comforting his scent was as you sighed and allowed yourself to drift off in the calm of his embrace.

You had never slept so soundly in all your life. One moment you were dozing off and the next an alarm was going off and Harry was shifting behind you to tap his phone, making the noise stop abruptly.

You felt his mouth on your neck and then his whispered words were warm at the back of your ear, “I have to go, sweetheart.”

You groaned and pouted when you remembered it was Friday and you both had to work. In an ideal world, you’d have him stay all day in your bed with you. You pulled his arms tighter around your middle so he couldn’t get up.

You felt his chuckle bounce off your neck, “You're too cute. I don’t want to leave either but I have to. And you should get up too. It’s 7.”

Letting go of his arms he slid himself away from you and you sat up, feeling the slightest ache between your legs.

Reluctantly you stepped down from your bed with a frown and Harry tugged at your hand, pulling you toward him, “Don’t pout. If you want to see me again all you have to do is give me a ring. Yeah?” He raised his brows at you as you nodded.

“See? Pretty easy huh? Said your roommate’s out all weekend?” He smoothed his hands up and down your bare arms.

“Yeah,” you nodded and kept your eyes locked on his.

“Give me a smile, Y/n,” Harry smudged his thumb at the corner of your mouth and you slowly brought the edges of your lips up in a grin.

“There we go,” he gazed at your face, “We had fun. Didn’t we?”

“Yeah. That was fun,” you laughed, suddenly feeling shy.

Harry pressed his mouth to your cheek and then let you go as he picked up the clothes on your floor to dress himself. You slid your t-shirt on and watched him before following him out of your room toward your door.

He grinned at you, his hair was a mess and he had sleep lines on his face from being smushed into the pillow. You thought he looked so soft and sweet like this.

“You know what to do if you want to see me. Yeah?”

You nodded and smiled as he gave you a quick kiss before letting himself out your door.

A quiet squeal of glee fell from your mouth as you rushed to grab your cell phone. You pulled up your messages app and texted Harry right away.

Can you come over tonight?

PART 3

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perlelune · 5 months

Text

Creep | Oliver Quick

Though you can’t grasp exactly what, you know something is very off with your boyfriend’s peculiar new friend.

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, Stalking, Voyeurism, Cheating, Coercion, Blackmail, Drinking, Smoking, Unhealthy Relationship Dynamic

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

Felix’s long digits drum over your back as he pouts, “You really brought me here just to study, babe?” His raspy, flirtatious tone tugs your lips skyward. Still, your attention doesn’t stray from your laptop screen. Sentences bleed from your fingertips at a quick-fire pace. A little under three thousand words on Bentham’s theory of utilitarianism, due by Monday. The topic isn’t exactly thrilling but you have to hand it over in time.

“If I don’t ace this essay, I’m going to fail this class,” you absently reply. Failure. The one thing you literally can’t afford right now, though you forbear sharing that particular bit with Felix. Best he perceives your single-minded determination as a core stare of your character rather than what it actually is…a necessity, one born of dire circumstances.

He takes a long drag off his cigarette. Grey smoke floats around you, smudging the words on your screen. You repress tears as your eyes burn. You wished he’d curb the nasty habit. You’ve dropped hints before.

But no one tells Felix Catton what to do. Many would kill to even breathe the same nicotin-infused air as him. Felix is the sun and everyone on campus craves to be in his orbit, eager for the slightest chance to bask in his warmth, shower in his light.

You’re no different. The day he asked you out, a little over a year ago, you pinched yourself twice to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Felix Catton wanted…you? It couldn’t be real.

This was the boy you held in your heart for a decade, the only one you ever had eyes for.

And while your relationship suffered its share of hardships, namely Felix’s wandering eyes, you couldn’t picture life without him at your side.

He’s your everything.

He could hurt you a thousand times and you’d forgive him each of those times.

Felix’s bare shoulder grazes yours as he states, “They won’t fail you, not with who your dad is.”

Your stomach knots with his comment. Still, you shrug, pretending away the guilt steadily gnawing your insides.

“I don’t want to get special treatment just because of my family name, Felix,” you say, trying your best to sound nonchalant.

Though his smile never falters, his jaw ticks. “And I do?”

The ice in his tone scatters in your veins. Immediately, you discard your homework, concerned gaze finding his.

“I’m not saying that.” When Felix doesn’t respond, panic roars inside you. You touch his exposed chest to bring his attention to you. He doesn’t move. “I didn’t say that.”

A thick blanket of silence engulfs the room and your airways constrict. It feels as if your heart is on the verge of collapse as you wait for a reaction from your boyfriend, his chestnut gaze glued to the ceiling.

His head turns to you slowly. He releases a large puff of smoke in your face. Tears rush to your eyes, filling them to the brim.

Felix shrugs.

“It sounded like you did. A little. But that’s okay.” His tone is mellow in that way that oozes displeasure. “I’m just a legacy kid getting by on his trust fund and good looks, right?”

Your mouth quakes and he bursts out a chuckle. He cups your cheek, a wide grin breaking onto his face. “I’m just fucking with you, babe.”

You swallow your budding tears, wiping your eyes swiftly as Felix reaches around you to put out his cig in the ashtray.

You punch him in the chest, your own laughter bubbling out.

“You’re an arsehole.”

His grin expands. Twining your fingers with his, Felix’s tone gets softer.

“I wanted to ask…” He trails off, brown gaze clinging to yours. “Can Ollie come to the party you and Anabel are throwing tonight?”

You tilt your head in befuddlement. “Ollie?”

He traces the lines in your palm, adding absently, “Yeah, Oliver. I told you about him. Saved my arse when my bike broke.”

“Right, bike guy,” you say, remembrance hitting you. You tilt your head. “What’s he like?”

Felix sighs.

“He doesn't have too many friends. He's also had a rough upbringing. So I thought we could help him a little, you know?” You study him. However casual your boyfriend attempts to sound, you instantly recognize what this is. Yet another try at playing knight in shining armor. Whoever this Oliver guy is, he’s now become your boyfriend’s side project. His charity case possibly.

“He’s not like us so we could try to be nice.”

Not like us. You mask your discomfort with a bright smile.

About a year ago, your dad’s company filed for bankruptcy. Thankfully your scholarship still allows you to attend Oxford, but your lifestyle has drastically changed. No more shopping sprees. No more casual leisure trips to Europe. No more frivolous spendings with daddy’s black card.

The last straw was when your father emptied every account, including your trust, and left the country without as much as a goodbye text. Since those events, your mother has taken refuge at the bottom of a whisky bottle. You can barely get a hold of her these days.

So not only are you penniless, you might as well be an orphan.

Felix is all you have left. You can’t risk him finding out the truth. He can never know about the part time jobs you’ve had to take to cover tuition costs or the small flat your mum had to move into after your father had to sell the family manor. He might think you’re beneath him now, working class, destitute. Or worse, he might pity you, treat you like a charity case too.

You follow the curve of his dark brow with your thumb, sweeping over his silver stud.

“Hm, sure. I can be nice,” you promise.

“I know you can,” he teases, large hands pulling on your thighs to spread you across his lap.

You squeal before scolding him, “Felix…I really really need to finish this essay.”

His eyes darken with lust as he licks his lips. He wiggles his hips, causing the bulge in his jeans to rub against your clothed center. Your breath hitches. “And I really really need you to take care of this for me.” His hoarse, desperate inflection makes your core clench. His palms run over your thighs beneath your short dress. “Just five minutes? Come on, I’ve been hard for like an hour, babe.”

He hums, already playfully fiddling with the edge of your lace panties.

“It’s your fault for wearing this fucking pink dress. You know the way your ass looks in it drives me crazy.”

You resolve crumbles beneath Felix’s heated stare. You can never tell him no. And he knows that. Releasing a deep sigh, you relent.

“Five minutes,” you offer.

He slides one finger inside your weeping core. As you draw a sharp breath, Felix beams.

“It’s all I need,” he coos.

The party’s at his height, loud music blasting from the gigantic speakers and glow sticks waving in the pitch blackness of the underground cellar. You thread your way between tipsy students, carrying two cups of beer in your hands.

As you reach the VIP corner, you hand Annabel her drink. The redhead mumbles her thanks as she bobs her head to the music. You peer at your surroundings, glad to see everyone having fun.

It’s a frank success. Pride trickles inside you at that. It’s been hard collecting pockets of free time to put it together between classes and assignments. But you did it.

Truthfully, you’re also craving some fun tonight. All you’ve done lately is studying. You miss the days when you were more carefree, unconcerned about your grades deciding the course of your future.

You glance down at your watch, scowling as you notice the time. He was supposed to be here three hours ago.

“Where’s Felix?” you ask Venetia. Your boyfriend’s sister lazily opens her eyes, a drunken smile spreading onto her lips. She shrugs. “Don’t know. Haven’t seen him around.”

You pivot to the rest of the group.

“Have you guys seen him tonight?”

Annabel shakes her head apologetically while Farleigh brings his blunt to his mouth with a taunting smile.

“Desperate much?” he teases.

“Farleigh, come on,” Anabel chastises. She bumps her shoulder into yours, her expression sympathetic. “Don’t mind him, you know he’s always a jerk after a few drinks.”

Farleigh sighs. “Darling, you know I love you. It was just a joke.”

“A joke, right…” you mumble. Your cheeks heat though you try not to let your feelings show. Still, Farleigh’s words linger in your head. Maybe you’re being too clingy. It’s something you should mind. What if you became too needy and Felix grew bored of you? It’s not like he wouldn’t find a replacement for you in a heartbeat.

You lie back on the plush couch, sipping from your beer cup as your friends continue their chat. The conversation has long since stopped making sense, fueled by drug-inspired ramblings. Your attention is halved by your straying train of thoughts, the current whereabouts of your boyfriend still at the forefront of your brain.

Another hour flies by before Felix’s towering frame finally pierces through the crowd. A smaller boy trails behind him, his expression mirroring that of a lost puppy. He adjusts his glasses, awkwardly avoiding the drunken bodies around him. The word “Sorry” doesn’t stop pouring from his mouth.

You realize this must be Oliver. Astonishment flows through you. This isn’t the kind of company Felix traditionally keeps. But you elect to try your best to be nice and welcoming.

It’s what Felix asked of you after all. Besides, entering a new group of people cannot be easy, your tight-knit circle having known each other since kindergarten for some.

You don’t miss Anabel’s fleeting, condescending glance as she takes in Oliver though. Getting her assent to let him come had been a hassle, as she regards him as some weird, scholarship kid who’d just bring the mood down. But you insisted and she finally caved.

You trade a meaningful look with her, silently nudging her to be nice. The redhead practically rolls her eyes but squeezes her lips shut. Annabel may be one of your best friends but even you’re aware that she can be quite snobbish at times.

A sullen expression decorates your face as Felix enters the private booth.

“You’re late,” you blurt out. Farleigh snickers behind you and your cheeks flare. But everything around you fades as Felix grabs your face and presses feverish lips over yours. Your irritation melts in the heat of the passionate kiss.

When he frees your mouth, his thumb runs over your swollen bottom lip as he explains casually, “Yeah we were just hanging out and we lost track of time.”

He then introduces the shy boy.

“That’s Ollie.”

“Nice to meet you,” he stutters.

“Likewise,’ you reply smiling.

You gauge him. Beneath the large glasses, you note the slanted blue eyes and soft, round boyish features. Felix’s friend is cute. If only he weren’t so painfully awkward.

“You should sit with us. There’s plenty of space,” you say.

Felix draws you onto his lap as he sits. Oliver takes a nervous seat next to the two of you. His eyes keep rising to Felix, as if seeking perpetual approval from your boyfriend. You’re a little perplexed. Farleigh hands Felix a spliff and he lets his hand rest on your thigh while taking a long drag from it.

“So, where are you from exactly?” you ask Oliver.

His gaze on you and Felix is sharp, somehow constantly darting to where your boyfriend’s holding you.

“Prescott,” he answers.

You mull over his response. It’s a few hours away from Oxford. You don’t know much about it. Though, based on what Felix implied about the way he grew up, you expected him to originate from a rougher area. Prescott doesn’t seem too awful.

“Prescott? They must be proud of you back home, especially your parents.”

“Probably not, actually.”

Your curiosity is piqued. “Why are you saying that?”

Oliver shrugs. His eyes find the floor before meeting yours again.

“Just don’t talk to them much,” he mutters. “They got problems and stuff…”

You slant your head. “Problems?”

Felix’s hand tightens atop your thigh. “Babe, that’s enough prying, don’t you think?”

“I’m just making conversation, trying to get to know him.”

“You’re embarrassing him, babe.”

Oliver’s blue gaze lifts to yours, his face unreadable.

“No, it’s fine,” he says, though you detect a slight edge to his timbre that wasn’t there before. A small smile tugs his lips. “I don’t mind questions. Got nothing to hide.”

You nod. An icy tickle blooms at the base of your spine, scattering outward as Oliver’s intense focus doesn’t leave you. You turn away, shifting your attention to your boyfriend. Throughout the entire night, a strange sensation thunders through you, like the lightning before the storm. You can’t explain it. It’s like the world shifted off its axis, though you can’t pinpoint the reason.

Thankfully the strangeness is cast aside by Felix’s soft lips and heady, masculine scent. As the party goes on in the background, the two of you sneak away. You end up making out in a dark corner, Felix’s greedy hands slipping beneath your short skirt to grab a fistful of your ass. He pinches your flesh and you squeal.

A warm chuckle spills from his lips as he peppers tender kisses alongside your neck.

“Let’s go back to my dorm,” he whispers.

You readily agree. He takes your hand and the two of you hitch a ride back to campus. The two of you giggle in the backseat of the car every time the driver berates you for getting too handsy with each other. You laugh it off all the way back to his room, lips locking as you cross the threshold. You jump to wrap your legs around Felix’s tapered waist. He purrs, his hands latching around your hips, pulling you closer. He pushes you against a wall, tracing a scorching path in the valley between your breasts. Moaning, you toss your head back.

As your eyes flutter however, you catch sight of a silhouette standing outside Felix’s window. Your heart bounces, your eyes growing saucer-wide. You gasp and leap away from Felix.

“What the fuck?” he curses as you race to the window. Chest pulsing with your quick heartbeats, you peel the window open to peek outside. The cold night air whisks inside the room. Goosebumps break out on your skin.

Your gaze wanders, searching the darkness. Confusion swells within you as you find nothing. Nothing but greenery, the same trees and grass flanking your path whenever you stroll through campus.

“There was someone outside, w-watching us,” you stammer.

Felix’s frustrated breath grazes the back of your neck. “Babe, there’s no one out there.”

You squint, dumbfounded when nothing but pitch blackness stares back at you. For a minute, you really believed someone stood there. In fact, whoever they were bore a peculiar resemblance to…

You catch yourself before finishing the thought.

Now that’s just crazy.

“But I saw…”

Felix shifts your body towards him. He cups your cheeks and rasps, “Hey. Hey, look at me. There’s no one but us here.” His lips collide with yours. He starts groping you again and you push him off you, stunned that he wants to have sex at a time like this.

“No, Felix, I-I can’t.”

He stumbles back and scoffs, “Oh.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you inquire, glowering at him.

His gaze flicks over you, his expression cold. “All that teasing just to leave me high and dry?”

“Felix, wait…”

He avoids your touch, collecting his jacket from the bed when your fingers stretch towards him.

“It’s fine. I’m just gonna have a smoke. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Your stomach sinks.

“O-Okay,” you say as your hand retreats to your side.

The door slams shut and you collapse on Felix’s bed. Your eyes veer to the window once more. You could have sworn you caught a glimpse of someone. Maybe all those late nights writing essays and revising for the upcoming exams are slowly catching up to you, dragging you to the brink of madness.

Felix doesn’t call you the following day. Of course he doesn’t. You broke the mood. You acted weird. What reason does he have to want to be around you again? It’s bad enough you neglected him in favor of your assignments and club activities for the last few weeks. Now you can’t even enjoy the sparse time you have together.

Still, you flip your phone open all day long, longing for a word from him, any trivial, insignificant word.

You get nothing.

You gloomily drag your feet around campus and somehow find your way in one of the empty student lounges, save Farleigh and Venetia. Lying flat on the carpeted floor, eyes glued to the ceiling, the two of them are sharing a spliff. You wedge yourself between them, lying on your back also. You steal the roll from Venetia’s fingers and bring it to your lips. Your throat burns and you cough as you inhale a puff. Venetia’s lips curve upward as your eyes water.

“You gotta take it easy the first time,” she says, amusement lighting her olive orbs. “Tiny inhales.” She shows you how and you mimic her gestures. You go slower the second time and a pleasant numbness sets into your limbs. Your eyes shut. You kind of get it now. For the first time in several weeks, your mind’s almost at rest, your stormy thoughts quieted.

“You don’t smoke,” Farleigh notes near you.

“I am today.”

“You guys will be fine,” Venetia assures. “You’re always fine.”

Your eyes open, settling on the pristine white ceiling.

“I fucking hate him sometimes.” You pause, sucking a deep breath. “But I love him more.”

“Yep, that’s Felix,” they utter in unison.

You heave out a weary sigh. They grew up with him. They know better than anyone, how sweet and wonderful he can be, but also cruel and careless sometimes.

Just like the sun, Felix’s light can also burn whoever gets too close.

For a while, the three of you hang out in silence, the spliff switching hands every once in a while. Eventually, each of them rises, leaving you to your mopey thoughts.

Before taking his leave however, Farleigh whispers in your ear,

“Oh and darling, next time you wear a rental…make sure the price tag isn’t sticking out. It gives you away.”

You sit up immediately. A smile dances on the boy’s lips as he disappears. You grab the back of your neck, face warming as you feel the tag poking through the collar of your shirt.

You nearly forgot you’re due to return the designer piece in two days’ time. You can’t believe someone noticed. Though you suppose if anybody would, it’d be Farleigh. Nothing gets past his keen eye. You surmise it was a necessity with the way he grew up. Learning to read people, knowing what makes them tick, being able to spot a pretender from a mile away…which you are now.

Maybe it’s ludicrous, acting like you can still afford to live like this, like your life wasn’t turned upside down.

Still, you can’t fathom the alternative. The judgement, the pity, from your friends…from Felix. The thought alone makes you sick. The echo of Anabel’s voice as she disparaged Oliver’s background a few days ago never left you.

Dunno what Felix even sees in him. He’s some weird scholarship kid who buys his clothes at Oxfam.

That was harsh…and made you wonder what your best friend would have to say about your current situation.

So you’d rather lie, even if you sometimes look like a fool doing so.

You swallow a wide lungful, willing yourself to be calm. You repeat the mantra, again and again. You’re okay. You’re okay. You just need to keep your grades up and get through the semester.

The rest of the week is hell. Felix all but ignores you, not even sparing you a glance when he brushes past you in the university corridors. The itch to talk to him sears inside you. Unfortunately, he’s always surrounded by a swarm of people, the center of attention as usual, making approaching him near impossible. You can’t picture bringing up your relationship problems in front of so many eyes.

Besides, you don’t want to project desperation, Farleigh’s pointed gibe still resonating in your mind. You need to play it cool, wrap yourself in a disguise of indifference…despite the way you wither away every second he’s not texting you back.

The agonizing wait is made worse by him. He’s everywhere now. Wherever Felix goes, he goes too. Oliver Quick has essentially become your boyfriend’s shadow. Whether in class, at pub meetups, at parties, the quiet, nervous boy never abandons Felix’s side, always peering up at him with those round baby blues of his, a strange mix of admiration, devotion and…something else you can’t pinpoint etched on his face.

It’s sort of creepy in your opinion.

Though you’d never say it aloud. For some reason, Oliver’s his new toy. And you’re acutely aware of how Felix is with his toys. He plays with them for a while then moves on to the next fancy, shiny new one. He did it to Eddie before. Now Oliver.

And maybe it’ll be your turn one day…if you don’t do something.

It’s how you end up in front of his dorm one night, already tipsy from half a bottle of vodka. Liquid courage to get you to knock on his door. It’s pathetic. Of course it is, but you just can’t wait anymore.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and shaking off your nerves. Your knuckles are less than an inch from the door when a broken whimper reaches you from the other side of Felix’s door.

Brows furrowing, you place your ear against the wood. You hear a moan this time. Deep, distinctive, masculine…familiar. Your heart stops.

You plummet to your knees, peering through the keyhole. You feel wrong for doing so, for invading Felix’s privacy like this. But guilt crumbles beneath the weight of heartbreak at what you witness.

You almost find yourself wishing you hadn’t looked. Almost.

Rivulets of anguish flow down your face as you watch your best friend and boyfriend lip-locked, practically swallowing each other’s faces. Their clothes aren’t off but the urgent way they’re grinding against each other is a dead giveaway as to what’s to come.

Legs trembling, you stumble back from the door. You shouldn’t have come. This was a mistake. You’re a fool.

You drunkenly stagger through the corridors, clinging to the walls each time you almost trip over your own feet.

You wind up slumped on some stairs, too inebriated to carry yourself much further. Your lids sag as you exhale. More hot tears spill down your cheeks. Your chest aches, a knife piercing through your heart as the memory of Annabel and Felix lost in the throes of passion fleets across your brain. Why are you even shocked? It’s not like you never caught Anabel leering at him while she thought you weren’t looking. And it’s not like Felix is some kind of saint. Still, you can’t help but feel massively betrayed. You thought you meant more to him. You thought they wouldn’t…not with each other.

When your eyes flutter open, you find a pair of intense cobalt orbs studying you.

“Oliver…” you mumble. In your drunken stupor, you don’t bother wondering how he got here, seemingly materializing from thin hair.

He hunkers in front of you. His scent tickles your nose and it twitches. The smell of his cologne is so strikingly reminiscent of the one Felix wears. A wave of emotion engulfs you. Sobs shake your frame as you shrink against the wall.

Oliver’s gaze rises to your weeping face as he questions, “Are you okay?”

“M’fine…” you slur, wiping your snotty nose. You must look a fright, a pathetic heap of tears aimlessly wandering the university corridors.

He tilts his head. “You don’t look fine.”

You consider Oliver. He is cute, which you noticed before. And in the dimly lit stairway, his blue eyes burn even brighter. You loathe that Felix is allowed to hurt you the way he did and can just…keep on. If your friends aren’t off-limits, why would his be?

You bat your lashes at Oliver.

“You got any alcohol?”

His lips curve upward as he rasps, “Would you like me to have alcohol?”

How did you end up there? The question keeps swirling in your head as Oliver’s mouth hungrily devours yours, his arm snaking around your waist to pull you closer. He trails fevered kisses down your neck and you squirm. As his teeth sink into the flesh at the crook of your neck, you let out a sharp cry. You tug on his dark locks and Oliver growls against your skin. The pain mixes with pleasure in your haze. His tongue then circles where he punctured your flesh, dragging slowly as an elated purr rises from his chest. His hard-on presses into your thigh. Alarm bells ring inside your mind.

It’s all a little too real, you realize. You got carried away. You draw back, pushing against his chest. “Oliver, wait…”

You might as well have said nothing, your words falling to unlistening ears as Oliver grabs your wrists and nudges you on the bed on your back. You peer up at him. Lust darkens his blue gaze, making him appear almost inhuman in the darkness.

Your mouth wobbles.

Pinning your wrists at your sides, Oliver kisses you senseless. Soon his lips are tracing a scorching path down your body, his hands moving to peel off your short skirt and panties.

His attentive gaze doesn’t leave yours as he sluggishly drags the tiny layer of lace down your legs.

His throat bobs when your bare cunt is exposed to him.

Biting his bottom lip, Oliver crawls his way to your core. Your legs quake. There is a strange glow in his eyes that sends chills down your back.

“Oli-” you start, but the protest dwindles in a helpless whimper when Oiver buries his head between your thighs and flicks his tongue against your bundle of nerves. Oliver’s firm hands clasp around your thighs, keeping you in place when you attempt to close your legs. He greedily eats you out, fingers digging into your soft flesh. He suckles your tender button in his mouth and your eyes roll back. Your fingers get lost in his dark mane as your back arches against the sheets. Oliver’s feverish tongue sweeps around your folds and you grow weaker, slumping against the pillow.

Quickly, stars dangle in your vision. Your fists tighten around the sheets while your legs turn to jelly. A long breath flows from your lips.

You don’t remember ever coming that hard before, not even with Felix.

Tingles are still dancing over your legs as a sliver of clarity returns to you.

Oliver’s tongue slowly moves, collecting the remnants of your essence off his lips as a look of sheer bliss decorates his face. You shiver.

You try to move off the bed. “I think that’s enough,” you say, folding your knees.

Oliver’s mouth quirks lopsidedly. “Oh, we’re nowhere near done, luv.”

Much quicker than you, Oliver slithers his way up your body and cages you beneath his frame. He steals your lips in a hungry kiss, trapping your wrists above your head. His fingers are tight enough that you just know it’ll bruise. You taste your own bittersweet flavor on his tongue. His hand creeps under your shirt, groping your tits. He plants urgent pecks on your face, dragging his teeth along your jaw.

“Oliver, please…” you beseech, shock making your voice shake.

He sinks a finger between your slick walls. Your stomach tightens.

Oliver releases your swollen lips and twists his finger inside your core. Your breath hitches.

He smiles down at you.

“But you’re gushing down there, luv. This is what you want.”

Your face warms. You hate that he’s right, that your body clings to him, making space you wish it didn’t…almost inviting his actions.

But Oliver’s mouth and hands are far too good at knowing which buttons to press to turn you into a whimpering mess. Shame pools in your gut as sharp keens leave your lips.

He pumps inside you at a steady pace, his thumb teasing your heap of sensitive nerves every once in a while, pressing until you cry out. He adds another finger and the air in your lungs falters. His hands feel everywhere at once, his teeth and mouth scattering marks all over your body.

He doesn’t stop until you clench around him, soaking his hand with your juices when you shatter with a high-pitched wail.

You crash over the pillows. Your body is still coming off the high. Half-lidded eyes blindly rise to the ceiling. Oliver yanking off his shirt and discarding his pants doesn’t register, not fully, the entire bottle of vodka you emptied before making your mind slow.

He’s suddenly inside you, his thick length splitting you apart as he places his forearms besides your head.

Your lips part in a quiet shout. It feels like if you might break, your walls aching as they stretch around him.

He begins to rail into you, each of his thrusts blunt and animalistic. As if he were possessed by some beast. You know it’s ludicrous. But as the lewd clapping of your damp skin against his rises each time he buries himself balls-deep inside you…it’s how you feel. Like a wild animal somehow broke free and started rutting into you.

Your head lolls against the pillows, your thoughts going blank every time he grazes your sweet spots. Your fingernails rake down his back.

“Does Felix fuck you like this?” he rasps. He presses his chest against yours, his cock hitting an angle that draws a lengthy moan from you. A crooked smile ghosts over Oliver’s lips. “Or maybe more like this…”

His warm breath fans over your earshell.

“Tell me luv… How do our cocks compare?”

When you don’t respond, he roughly shoves inside you, his fingers cinching around your windpipe. You gasp in horror, gaping at him through tear-filled eyes.

“Answer me,” he instructs, his voice deeper than before.

“Y-You’re bigger than he is,” you sputter, struggling to get the words out with his hand squeezing your throat.

A peculiar blend of excitement and disappointment swims in his gaze when you answer.

You weakly claw at his chest, squirming beneath him. He doesn’t let you go, bending to shove his tongue in your mouth. He drags his tongue over your face, licking your hot tears. Sobs jostle your frame.

“Oliver, please,” you repeat.

He shushes you, framing your chin. His thumb follows the outline of your bottom lip, bleeding and swollen from all his rough kisses.

“Stop fighting it. Be a good girl.” He showers tender pecks across your collarbone before softly whispering against your temple, “Or I’ll tell Felix everything. That you came onto me, begging me to fuck you.” His devilish smile sears into your skin. “I’ll tell him what a good little slut you were for me.”

Your stomach drops. Oliver collects your tears with his fingertips. He shoves his fingers in his mouth, emitting a throaty moan at the taste of your despair. He then dips those same fingers in your mouth, his pelvis snapping into yours.

“It’s beautiful, how much you love him,” Oliver mumbles, growing harder inside you as a fresh wave of tears brim beneath your lashes. “You’re beautiful. I can see why he always comes back.” He rests his forehead against yours, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips.

“Maybe I’ll keep you for myself when this is all done.”

The awakening in the early morning is rude, the wicked headache and ache in your limbs reminding you of last night’s events right away. Strips of sunlight sneak between the curtains, caressing your face. The usually pleasant warmth does nothing to soothe your frayed nerves. Your stomach clenches as you peer at your side. Oliver’s completely naked, only wearing the silver chain always around his neck. His arm is lazily spread over your belly. You don’t dare move, fearing he’ll wake up.

What would you even say?

This is a disaster. You somehow ended up in Oliver’s room and…had sex with him.

You swallow a shaky sob as your gaze travels low. Your panties are torn, which you didn’t notice last night. At least your clothes can still be worn, lying in a messy heap at the bottom of the bed. Carefully, you writhe your way out of Oliver’s hold and grab your clothes.

You hastily put your skirt and shirt back on, trying not to cry when you realize you’re going to have to walk back to your dorm without your knickers. Heat rushes to your cheeks.

You toss a glance behind you, relieved when you find him still sleeping soundly.

You climb off the bed. Your heart leaps when the mattress squeaks as you rise.

Pulse quickening, you head for the door.

Pain radiates through your lower body when you move. You stagger the rest of the way, constantly tugging on your short skirt as you pray not to encounter any strong gust of wind on the way back.

Before leaving, you look back.

Oliver’s still sprawled on his side on the bed but his eyes are wide open now.

No word leaves his mouth as he studies you in silence.

A wide, lazy smile slowly unfans on his lips.

Your blood turns to ice. Fumbling with the doorknob, you scurry outside the door.

Once you’re outside, you slam the door closed.

You dart panicked glances around the corridor. Relief fills you when you note that it’s empty. For now. It won’t be long before students start milling about.

You shamefully return to your dorm. The entire walk back, paranoia lurks at the edge of your mind. You keep wondering if every stranger you come across can tell what you did.

And you keep hoping not to run across anyone you know.

When you reach your bedroom, you lock the door. You make a beeline for the bathroom. You need a shower, expeditiously. Oliver’s smell still lingers on you. When you catch your disheveled reflection in the bathroom mirror, you’re shocked. You approach the mirror on unsteady legs. You crane your neck, your fingertips skimming over the two puncture wounds on your neck. A cool wave ripples down your back. It’s twisted. You feel like a character in a Polidori’s tale. Except this is reality somehow.

The one where you have to face the fact that you shagged your boyfriend’s new friend…and you’re not even entirely sure that you wanted it. Your mind throbs as you search through your memories. You changed your mind midway through. Oliver did not care.

Oliver did not care…

The ghastly realization has you keel over the toilet bowl to empty the meagre contents of your stomach. You slump to the floor and start quivering over the bathroom floor.

A sudden knock on your door has you rising from the floor.

Your heart skips a beat when you glance through the peephole.

“F-Felix?” you stutter, panic hitting a peak inside you.

His deep voice penetrates through the door.

“Hey, can we talk?” he asks.

He sounds heartbroken, desperate. You almost unleash a sigh. You recognize this. You’ve been there before. This is a rollercoaster you can never get off of, the thrill when you’re high up entirely too intoxicating.

“Right now is not the best time.”

He heaves out a deep sigh. You can literally picture his kicked puppy expression, even with the door between you two. Your heartstrings flutter as you lean against the door. The craving to toss yourself in his arms wars with the sizzling betrayal still sitting in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck. Are you still mad at me?”

Swallowing the surge of tears, you reply, “No. Just feeling a bit rough. Had a tad too much to drink last night.”

“I could take care of you…”

You nibble your lip. It’s tempting. He’s done it before. Bought you pastries and showered you with kisses and cuddles until you got better. When he wants, Felix can be the perfect boyfriend. When he wants.

“No,” you say firmly. “What do you want, Felix?”

“Can’t you just let me in, just for a minute, babe?” His pleading inflection shatters your meek fences.

“The park. In two hours,” you concede. “I got microeconomics right now, can’t miss it.”

“Thank you. Thank you.”

He’s overjoyed. You can’t bear it anymore. You race back to the bathroom as another wave of queasiness engulfs your insides.

Jittery steps lead you through the park as you rejoin him under an oak tree. You spent the last hour in class totally unfocused, your chest tight as you dreaded how this conversation would go.

“Felix,” you greet.

He wraps his arms around you. You remain still in his embrace, the distinctive scent of his cologne floating around you. You feel sick. Now it doesn’t remind you of Felix anymore.

“I really missed you.”

“Didn’t seem like it,” you mumble coolly.

His long exhale tickles your shoulder. “I know. I’m a wanker.”

“More like a selfish arsehole.”

His hold on you slackens as he draws back a little.

A look of hurt and shock covers his face. He isn’t used to you speaking to him so harshly. To him, you’ve only ever been sweet and forgiving. His brows crumple.

“I deserve that.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Listen I… I almost did something awful last night.”

“What thing?” You fiddle with the scarf around your neck. It’s the sole last minute resort you found to conceal the mark decorating your throat.

Of course you know exactly what thing Felix is referring to. You saw it with your own eyes, that thing. If it weren’t for that, you may not be a complete wreck today.

“Doesn’t matter, cause I stopped. It’s not who I want to be anymore.” He cups your face, warm brown gaze diving into yours. “You make me better.”

Words leave your mouth without forethought.

“Who was it this time?”

He hesitates, his jaw tensing. But beneath your heavy stare, he finally caves in.

“It was Annabel.”

“Oh.”

The knife inside your chest twists. It’s one thing to know, to have seen. It’s another to hear it confirmed from your boyfriend’s own mouth. Last night wasn’t some dragged out nightmare; it was reality. When you turn your head, Felix pivots it back to him.

Sincerity vibrates in his tone.

“I ended up kicking her out though.” He wipes the single tear that spills down your cheek. “All I could think about was you, the entire time.” He strokes your face. “You’re the only one for me, babe. This is the last time. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Fuck…”

You spot something you never heard in Felix’s voice before. Fear. And instantly, you break.

He leans his forehead against yours.

“I love you,” he states.

You’re dumbstruck. Those words have crossed Felix’s lips at least a thousand times. He’s said them to so many, even strangers…but never to you.

He came close a few times, but never has he been this clear, firm, his meaning unmistakable. Butterflies swarm your stomach.

“I love you,” he repeats.

Felix plants a feverish kiss on your lips, leaving them tingling when he releases you.

“I love you too,” you whisper as your hot breaths mingle.

A sunny smile breaks out on his face.

“No more lies from now on.”

A sinking feeling spreads through you, but you ignore it, returning his smile.

“No more lies,” you echo. Guilt eats at you the second you utter the words.

Felix’s attention veers from you as he waves at someone behind you.

“Hey, Ollie,” he shouts.

The air around you plummets to a few degrees. You go still against Felix, nudging a shaky smile onto your lips.

“I need to go to class,” you chime.

You don’t even turn around, his presence alone sending your senses into alert.

Confusion scrunches Felix’s features.

“Your next class isn’t for another hour.”

You pat his chest, willing yourself to sound more cheerful than you feel.

“Just got some studying to catch up on beforehand.”

Felix’s fingers cling to yours as you try to leave.

“I’ll see you tonight at the pub?”

“Sure.”

He doesn’t let you go until you give him another lengthy kiss. You’re uncomfortable, the weight of a certain somebody’s stare drilling holes into your back.

Things recede to relative normalcy, in some ways better than before, and in others worse. Better because of your relationship with Felix. It improves tremendously. He dotes on you more than he ever has, showering you with gifts and small attentions.

Worse because he’s still there, his unsettling presence the dark cloud over your rekindled romance. Each time you’re forced to be around him, there’s a knowing, smug glint dancing in his eyes, a subtle smile tugging his lips skywards. Perpetual fright eclipses your happiness, all because of Oliver Quick.

What if he told Felix everything? This was a mistake and you’re fairly sure you tried to stop it. You still have nightmares about that night, the way he held you down and wrapped his hand around your neck, stealing your air and ability to defend yourself.

You were helpless. Even letting Felix touch you is hard now, the memory of what Oliver did to you seeping through the cracks whenever you expect it least.

He branded you. And while the marks on your body may have faded, the ones engraved on your soul won’t vanish so easily.

It’s a blessing when Felix finally grows bored with him. You have no idea how it occurred. You simply know that they seem stitched at the hip for months then, suddenly, Oliver is gone. Felix shows up at group meetups without him and stops mentioning him altogether.

As if he took an eraser and wiped him from existence. Just like he did to Eddie back in the day.

You’re relieved…for an ephemeral while alas.

Oliver’s dad's abrupt passing changes everything overnight.

Once more, Felix feels the need to be Oliver’s knight in shining armor.

And once more the two of them are inseparable. Two peas in a pod.

You elect to take some distance. While you understand that Felix wants to help him, it doesn’t mean you have to. Thankfully, with summer fastly approaching, you won’t have to bear with Oliver Quick for much longer.

As usual, James and Elspeth urged you to come spend the summer at Saltburn, particularly Elspeth who couldn’t stop gushing about what a gorgeous couple you and Felix are. And while you may have tried to decline every other year, finding his family to be an awful lot, this year is different. This year, more than ever before, you long for an escape.

Even the pits of hell would be a suitable vacation spot if it meant not having to run across Oliver Quick for two whole months.

It’s a thrilling prospect. These days you can’t be around Felix as much because being around him means being around Oliver, and you just can’t do it. You look forward to having your boyfriend all to yourself. All day long, you dream about lazy afternoons by the pool and cloud-gazing in the grassy fields.

These are the balmy thoughts floating through your mind as you return to your dorm that day after classes end. A carefree smile decorates your face. You can’t wait to finish packing your suitcase. You saved every penny from your part-time job to buy a new swimsuit. And while it made a small dent in your savings, imagining Felix’s face the first time he’ll see you in it makes the tiny sacrifice worth it.

But the smile on your lips dies when you cross the door to your bedroom. Your jaw drops, the stack of books in your hands crashing to the floor with a loud thud.

“What are you doing here?” you whisper. You shrink against the door, maintaining as wide a distance as the small room allows.

Oliver doesn’t even spare you a glance, casually lying on your bed with one knee bent like it’s his.

“Your taste in books. A bit of a letdown I gotta say, luv,” he says, flipping the yellowed pages of one of your favourite novels.

You lick your lips. “Look, I’m sorry about your dad…but you can’t be here.” He doesn’t leave your bed, engulfed in his reading. Your brows knit. “Get out of my room, Oliver,” you repeat, folding your arms as you approach the bed.

His cobalt gaze finally settles on you. He places the book on the night table, slow and unhurried as he gets to his feet.

Your pulse soars as he inches closer.

“Or what? You’ll scream?” he challenges. He circles you, gauging you in a way that summons a picture of a lion stalking its prey in your head. Your blood curdles when Oliver’s breath caresses your nape. “Then you’ll have to explain what I’m doing in your room and make a scene.” His voice lowers to a taunting rasp. “Do you want to make a scene?”

Your voice comes out shaky. “What do you want?”

Oliver takes a deep breath while placing his hands on your shoulders. His thumbs trace a slow path along the column of your neck. His lips graze your earshell.

“I want you to come over here, lie on this bed and spread your legs like a good girl for me.” You suck in a sharp breath. His fingers drag down your arm as he adds, “I’m feeling…peckish.”

When you don’t move, he releases a deep sigh.

“...Or I can tell Felix everything.”

Your heart starts hammering in your chest. “What?” you exhale, spinning to face him.

Oliver smiles.

“You guys are great right now. He says you’re the best you’ve ever been. No more lies. No more secrets.” Oliver bends close to you, his smile expanding. “How do you think he’ll react when I tell him that we fucked…” He pauses and you hold your breath. “And that you’ve lied to him about your family this entire year.”

Goosebumps spread across your flesh. You stumble back, your eyes practically bulging out of their sockets. “H-How do you know about that?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, Oliver takes small steps forward, causing you to retreat until the back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress. He places his hands on each side of you. His gaze traces the motion of your neck as you swallow the lump in your throat.

“I…It’s not the right time of the month right now,” you lamely offer.

Oliver’s blue eyes rise as he sinks to his knees in front of you. Tingles bounce over your skin as he rolls your plaid skirt up your thighs.

“And you think it’s something I’m worried about?”

A moan tears from your throat when he buries two fingers inside your core without a warning.

“From now on when I tell you to spread your legs for me, you do as I say,” Oliver informs, his fingers curving inside you. You choke on your breath. “Don’t make me repeat myself. Do you understand?” The threat laced in his tone scatters ice in your veins.

“Y-Yes.”

“Yes, Oliver,” he corrects.

“Yes…Oliver,” you sputter, legs tensing as his digits reach deeper inside you.

“I’m sure it’ll be a summer to remember.”

Between uneven breaths, you stammer, “W-What do you mean?”

He strokes under your thigh absently.

“Oh didn’t Felix tell you?” He bends over you to whisper in your ear. “I’ve been invited to Saltburn, as a guest.”

When Oliver leans away, he’s smiling from ear to ear. Excitement sways in his cobalt orbs as he studies your crestfallen expression.

“I know. I’m looking forward to it too.”

#saltburn #saltburn fanfiction #oliver quick #oliver quick x reader #dark!oliver quick #dark!oliver quick x reader #dark!fic

2K notes · View notes

ihaechans · 9 months

Text

Teach Me || P.JS

PAIRING ▸ Jisung x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ established relationship, smut, fluff

WARNINGS/CONTENT ▸ profanity, masturbation (m), lovey-dovey jisung, praise kink, petnames, unprotected sex (don't), cream pie, Jisung properly fucking reader for the first time but none are virgins, dom~ish jisung, fingering (f), oral (f), cum eating, overstimulation / multiple orgasms, reader gives jisung instructions on how to fuck her and for some reason- it turns jisung on even more (he's a strange fellow)

SUMMARY ▸ It's been about ten months since you and Jisung started dating, and not once has he fucked you properly. Yes, he's fucked you multiple times, but you're always on top riding him, or simply using him as you please, leaving him no room to fuck you how he wants to. Finally, he musters the courage to talk to you about it, and the outcome makes him wish he'd done it sooner.

WORD COUNT▸ 2k

A/N: This is part of the "Crush on You" & "7 Days" Jisung "series". Any of the stories can be read separately, but for more context, you should read the first two "parts" to better understand the reader and Jisung's dynamic. Make sure to like or reblog if you love it! My requests are open so don't be shy!

There's a fine line between fucking and fucking.

Jisung always got to fuck you, but never got to fuck you.

Since the beginning of your relationship, there has been a clear dynamic between the two of you. Jisung was bottom, and you were top. That's how things are, how they have been for the past ten months.

Sometimes Jisung wonders how it would be if things were different, imagining his hips fucking into your wet pussy, eyes teary as he watches you fall apart on his cock. Mouth sucking in his length until it couldn't go any farther, abusing your throat as he used you for his own pleasure.

God, it made him rock hard just thinking about it.

"Fuck," he whimpers, hand shifting lightly over his hard cock as he settles down on the bed, kicking his shoes off in a hurry. He wants you below him, mouth agape, brows furrowed, uncontrollable moans slipping past your lips as fucks into you deep.

He shouldn't do this knowing you're just a room over typing away on your computer, probably on an important work meeting or something like that, but he couldn't help it. He felt like an incaged animal, struggling to break free.

The only thing that could satisfy him was getting what he wanted.

Jisung teases the head of his cock, biting back a whimper at the sensitive feeling. His breathing is heavy as he grips his cock, hips automatically pistoning up to fuck into his fist, imagining how much better it would feel if he was fucking into you.

He imagines your sweet cries and moans, dick twitching as he thinks about you. Nobody has ever gotten him so worked up, it's almost as if you've casted a spell on him.

Jisung lets out a husky moan, fucking up into his fist frantically as he nears his climax. "Fuck," he moans, hips stilling as he releases into his hand, his free hand covering his mouth as he tries to hold back a loud whine.

Pathetic. He thinks to himself, completely ashamed he didn’t have the courage to tell you how he felt.

“Jisung baby, you in here?” A light knock emits from the wooden door and Jisung freezes like a deer in headlights, jumping across the room towards the bathroom as you slowly creak open the bedroom door.

Jisung sighs as he safety makes it to the bathroom, able to shut the door behind him softly before you notice. This was all so stupid.

He was stupid.

Turning on the sink, Jisung washes his cum off of his hand, shaking his head pitifully with a sigh as he does so.

The sudden opening of the bathroom door makes him jump with horror, wet hand covering his heart as he slumps over the sink, relived that it was only you.

“Baby im done with work,” you smile, opening your arms wide, in indication that you wanted to cuddle with your boyfriend.

He can’t help but smile back, a slight blush forming on his cheeks as he gives in to your warm embrace, head resting in the crook of your neck.

“Can we lay down?” Jisung speaks up for the first time today, following you as you flop down onto your shared bed without a word, waiting for Jisung to follow.

You looked so pretty laying there, eyes staring up at him innocently.

Stop being a pervert, he thinks to himself, flopping down beside you before wrapping his arms around your body

A hand runs through his hair as he breathes softly against your skin, the silence nearly deafening between the two of you.

“Jisung,” finally, you break the silence, “I know you were jerking off in here a couple minutes ago.”

You speak as if it’s not the most embarrassing thing in the world. Jisung’s eyes grow wide, mouth parting to speak but unable to as his face goes red. “How… how’d you…”

Shushing him with a finger, you cut him off. “Well you're pretty loud," you giggle, "Jisung what were you thinking about when you were jerking off? Me?” You straddle him in an instant, his hands grasping your hips with a whine.

Were you really going to make him admit to it? This was the most embarrassing moment of Jisung’s life.

Pushing your hips forward, Jisung moans out as you grind against him, “Answer me Jisung. Tell me what you were thinking about.”

“I-It was you…” Pink cheeks nearly go red as he admits it out loud, not able to look at you as he speaks.

You giggle, slightly shifting your hips against him again, “Naughty baby,” Jisung hums in agreement, nearly slipping into sub space before he even realizes it. “Now tell me what exactly was going on inside that head of yours.”

At this, he snaps out of his daze, eyes that once avoided you now looking straight back into yours. “Can I…” just say it Jisung, he thinks to himself, taking a deep breath before spluttering out a barely audible “Can I show you?”

He prays you don’t ask him to repeat himself, eyes closing in shame.

“Alright. Show me then.”

Not a thought goes through your mind as Jisung quickly flips the two of you over, his slender body now hovering over you. You admit, seeing Jisung on top of you was hot as fuck.

“I’m gonna show you now… is that okay?”

Even in times like this, Jisung still managed to be a complete cutie. “Of course baby, go ahead.”

Carefully, he kisses along your collarbones, hands pushing up the hem of your shirt up to your chest, exposing your bra.

“Take this off for me,” he mumbles, clearly talking about your bra. Already, Jisung was showing a different side of himself. He never asked you to take off your own clothes, doing it for you without you even having to ask.

He stops, head snapping up from where he was marking your collarbones to stare into your eyes. “I said to take it off, didn’t I?” His gaze is lustful and dark, an unreadable expression etched onto his face.

He never talks to you like this.

Raising an eyebrow, you sit up slightly, unclasping your bra as your breasts fall free in from of your boyfriend, his mouth immediately latching onto one of your nipples.

A surprised moan leaves your lips as he swirls his tongue around your sensitive bud, one of his hands dipping into the waistband of your shorts, rubbing along your panties.

“Shit,” you breathe out, gasping when he plays with your clit through the fabric. “Jisung…”

“Shhh… don’t talk. Good girls stay quiet.” His pupils were incredibly blown, cock rock hard in between his legs once again as he imagines the things that are about to take place.

He can tell you’re surprised, body still not fully comfortable with the idea of being a bottom. “Relax, I’ll treat you like a princess.”

He never calls you princess.

Your mouth opens to speak, but immediately shuts as one of his slender fingers forces it’s way inside of you, an embarrassing mix of a squeal and a moan slipping out. Jisung chuckles against your chest as you moan for him, inserting a second finger into the mix.

What’s gotten into him?

“I’m tired of holding back… I’ve wanted you like this for so long,” he admits, fucking his fingers into you faster as he stares directly into your half lidded eyes. “God the thought of having you like this turns me on so much, I couldn’t hold back any longer…” he rambles, seeming to get off on the sound of your moans.

“I’m close, please keep going,” Jisung pries your thighs open with his free hand as they start to tremble due to your impending orgasm.

Finally, your eyes shut tight with pleasure, brows furrowing as you tuck your lip between your teeth. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop-“ you repeat the words like a mantra until you hit your climax, back arching off the bed and legs threatening to close around your boyfriends hand.

“So good for me, I love seeing you under me like this.” Without giving you time to breathe, Jisung is quickly moving away from your breasts and down to your now sensitive pussy, quickly rolling your shorts off of your body to kitten lick your entrance, burying his face in your cunt as he slurps up all your cum.

Uncontrollable sounds spill from your mouth, motivating Jisung to continue his ministrations, only stopping when you harshly push his head away, a tired moan making its way out of you.

“Can I fuck you now? Please?” Doe eyes stare at you from in between your legs, your boyfriends hair slightly ruffled and out of place.

How could you ever say no?

A quick yes is all he needs to hear before disregarding his shirt and pants, including his boxers. Jisung is completely naked in front of you, he does a once over of your naked body below him, brain now realizing he’s never actually fucked you for real before.

It’s almost as if you can read his mind, your boyfriend slightly relaxing as you lace your fingers with his, holding his hand to comfort him.

“Don’t think too much baby, just put it in and I’ll help you from there.” Your voice is music to his ears, instantly sweeping away all his concerns. Following your instructions, he slowly pushes himself inside of you, groaning in unison with you.

“So good already,” you moan out, “Now just move your hips, I know you can do it.” You egg him on, Jisung’s jaw almost going slack as you fully take him in. He would never get used to how warm and wet you were, a low moan filling the air as he pulls back only to thrust back in, his moans picking up in frequency as he went on.

The pace was deep and slow, his cock hitting just the right place inside of you to make you go crazy. “Faster, faster right there-“ the sound of you urging him is what kept him motivated to make you cum.

He knew he wasn’t the best, but as long as he could make you cum on his cock, he would be happy tonight.

Jisung’s hips pick up pace, the sounds of skin slapping against each other now flowing through the air. You felt euphoric wrapped around him, Jisung nearly cumming just from a few quick thrusts.

The two of you moan in unison, the sounds only getting louder as you both near your orgasm. “You’re fucking me so good, just like that, right there-“ your sentence ends with a yelp as Jisung fucks you even harder, dick hitting your gspot over and over with each thrust.

“I’m gonna cum,” Jisung’s husky moans ring out as he releases inside of you, moans growing louder as you release with him, your pussy clenching around him impossibly tight.

Finally, he stills his hips, fast pants making his chest heave up and down as he collapses against you, face buried in your chest.

“Jisung… baby,” you breathe out, running your fingers through your boyfriends hair softly. “You did so good for your first time fucking me like that.”

He smiles against your chest, humming to acknowledge your statement. Sleep was already taking over his body, eyes struggling to stay open as you comb your fingers through his hair.

“Ji… pull out we need to get cleaned up.”

“Don’ wanna,” he groans, wrapping his arms around you to trap you in. “Hold me.”

“You’re so gross,” you smile, earning a small chuckle from the half-asleep man on top of you.

“Shhh no more talking,”

That’s the last thing you hear before falling asleep in his arms, your boyfriend whispering a sweet “I love you” before letting sleep take over his body as well.

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age-of-moonknight · 2 years

Text

“Chinatown,” Moon Knight (Vol. 9/2021), #16.

Writer: Jed MacKay; Artist: Alessandro Cappuccio; Colorist: Rachelle Rosenberg; Letterer: Cory Petit

#Marvel #Marvel comics #Marvel 616 #Moon Knight vol. 9 #Moon Knight 2021 #Moon Knight comics #latest release #Moon Knight #Marc Spector #Reese #Soldier #while believe me I understand certain people thrive in rigid hierarchies such as the military #I do kind of worry about this dynamic sometimes #and I wonder if they’ll ever address Marc’s own tension with being a patently rebellious person and #the troubles that blindly following Khonshu has gotten himself into and contrast it with Soldier’s willingness to follow Marc #literally to the death #that’s a conversation I would very much like to read someday but we’ll see what the creators have in store hahaha #Mr. Knight

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thefrogdalorian · 2 months

Text

The Arrangement

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Summary: You entered into an arrangement with Mando find some physical relief from the monotony of hyperspace as you travel through the galaxy together as a formidable team of bounty hunters. When you did so, there were three clear rules: that it would not impact your professional relationship, that there were no strings attached and most importantly of all: that Mando would never, ever remove his helmet.

When you carelessly let your emotions get the better of you and undermine those rules, you fear you have lost the man who means everything to you and discover that you miss much more than merely the physical encounters…

Word Count: 7.1k ✯ Rating: Explicit 18+ MDNI ✯ Content Warnings: Smut, light angst, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex. ✯ Author's Note: Well, this was by far the spiciest thing I have ever written and I hope you like it! I get the urge to write smut very occasionally and it was actually pretty fun to explore this side of a relationship with Din. Thanks to the lovely @decembermidnight for helping me out with this one and encouraging me through it! Very much a "Goooood Anakin, gooooood," dynamic. Nervous about posting this one so I'm going to run and hide now but hope you enjoyed it! :)

✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯

As you lie forlornly on your bunk, isolating yourself further from the man who has already put distance between the two of you, you rue the day you ever allowed yourself to enter into an arrangement with such an elusive man. You think back to all the moments you have shared since your paths first crossed, reminiscing over each one of your encounters.

Tonight is not the first night you chastise yourself for allowing yourself to become entangled with a Mandalorian; far from it.

Since you and Mando first started sleeping together, there have been frequent occasions when you have regretted the day that you gave into your desires and ever allowed yourself to end up underneath him, especially since he is so reclusive and aloof by nature. His reserved nature occasionally frustrates you, though you have always successfully hidden that. Well, almost always.

Mando’s withdrawn, quiet nature began as an attractive trait. His stoic, quiet nature first drew you to him as a business partner.

Except, now you have become something more to each other, such a trait prevents you from knowing him entirely.

And, boy, do you want to know him entirely.

Unfortunately, it seems as though you never will. A fact that you are painfully aware of now Mando cannot even stand to be in the same room as you. He is always hiding away in the cockpit.

You are frustrated at yourself for ever allowing yourself to feel so deeply for him.

What started as a casual arrangement is undeniably something more to you now. He means something more to you now. The man whose presence you cannot bear to be without. The man whose absence creates a great cavernous void in your chest that feels overwhelming.

The arrangement between you and Mando started as a physical release for you. A way to scratch an itch. With no strings attached, the arrangement was merely a way of passing time as you hurtled through hyperspace to collect the next bounty.

You were instantly attracted to Mando since you first glanced at him in the Cantina on Nevarro. With his broad shoulders, narrow waist and imposing form, it was impossible to tear your eyes away from him when he strode in. Even though mostly hidden beneath his armour, you were certain he was gorgeous.

Then you heard him speak.

Maker. His voice. So deep. His tone was so even, including when he was frustrated by the conversation with the head of the Bounty Hunters’ Guild on Nevarro. Even in the face of adversity, Mando kept his composure. The hulking warrior seemed so composed, so certain. His voice was calm and steady.

As a fellow member of The Guild, you were unable to resist the tempting urge to eavesdrop on his conversation with Greef Karga. You heard all about how Mando was struggling to afford the interest on paying off the ridiculous loan he had taken to buy the antiquated Razor Crest. You discovered he was having increasing difficulty covering the fuel that the old girl guzzled. After hearing about his predicament, an idea formed in your head.

It was rare for two members of The Guild to collaborate in such a way. After all, Mando should have been your competition. Something about him was drawing you to him, though. You felt compelled towards him, as though some invisible Force was pushing you together.

You proposed an arrangement to him.

In return for keeping the credits from your jobs, this mysterious Mandalorian would provide transport, lodgings and fuel in his ship. Considering it was an offer to have one of the best Bounty Hunters in the parsec come aboard his ship, you knew it was an offer he could not refuse. Sure enough, Mando accepted.

You had been together ever since.

At first, the arrangement was strictly business. You both kept yourselves to yourselves. Never prying into the other’s affairs.

However, after a couple of months spent traversing the galaxy together, there was a shift in your dynamic.

It turned out that two people existing together in a confined space with only each other to converse with to break the monotony of endless hyperspace lanes would find conversation and, eventually, friendship in each other. Despite their best efforts to avoid such a dynamic.

While friendship blossomed, so did other feelings.

You had never been able to deny your attraction to Mando to yourself. Pretty soon, you could not even deny it to him. Not when he asked you outright after imbibing one too many flagons of spotchka.

The first night you slept together was after a particularly heavy night of drinking at a seedy Cantina next to the shipyards of Corellia. There had been an unavoidable tension in the air that night. The alcohol had only enhanced your existing attraction towards each other to the point where it was no longer possible to ignore. The booze finally gave you the courage to vocalise them.

The tension which lingered in the air all evening was only magnified when you finally staggered back to the Razor Crest. It was practically suffocating being so close to him in that old ship.

In hoping that you would quickly fall into Mando’s bunk alongside him, you had vastly underrated the meticulousness of your business partner.

Even in your inebriated states, he had taken the time to lay out the ground rules. Despite how desperate you were for him, every inch of you aflame, Mando had insisted on setting some boundaries before your first time together.

Firstly, he insisted that sleeping together should not get in the way of your professional relationship. Mando would not give you favourable rates or discounts, nor would he expect them from you, just because you were sleeping together. He made it abundantly clear that, at any time, either of you could back out. The end of the arrangement would not impact your life together.

Secondly, there were no strings attached. No feelings. No declarations of love were wanted nor expected. Ideally, no emotions at all; this was strictly a physical relationship. You were to enjoy each other’s bodies and bring each other pleasure, but that did not necessarily mean that feelings ran any deeper than merely enjoying the way he relentlessly pounded into you, night after night, as you soared through the stars together.

Thirdly, and most importantly to Mando: the armour stayed on. All of it. Including the helmet. You were never, under any circumstances, to question this rule. You were never to attempt to remove any of his armour. If you did, it would not only terminate your physical arrangement with Mando. But your professional one, too.

You were so desperate to finally relieve the tension that had been simmering for months that you were more than happy to agree to terms.

You did not regret your decision for even a moment once Mando ended up in the bunk with you.

In allowing your desire for him to win out, you discovered that he was a skilled lover, even with the limitations of his armour. You could not touch him, see his face or feel his mouth, but he made it work. He always ensured you came first, knowing exactly how to please you.

Your encounters with Mando were a way to blow off steam, a release you both craved. It broke up journeys and brought you closer together. Your professional lives went from strength to strength. You were attuned to each other’s bodies. With each encounter, it felt as though you were slowly becoming one.

Even if you feared catching feelings for Mando, you always consoled yourself that it would never amount to anything. You were sure he did not feel for you in that way.

Whenever you doubted the arrangement, you thought about how the positives far outweighed the negatives. After all, keeping your sexual encounters in-house, so to speak, was a far safer option than putting yourselves in such a vulnerable position, entirely at the behest of others. Your reputation as a formidable bounty-hunting team preceded you throughout the galaxy. You were certain that there would be no shortage of people who would be keen to seduce you and Mando for their benefit.

The arrangement was perfect for both of you. It satisfied your carnal desires.

At least, at first, it did.

The closer you grew to Mando, the more your lives became intertwined, the more difficult it was to respect how strongly he felt about keeping himself covered when you slept together.

To begin with, Mando only took his cock out of the confines of his flightsuit. His armour remained on, digging into your skin. The various plates of his armour colliding roughly with your skin was a sensation you did not mind one bit, especially the touch of his cool beskar on your flushed skin.

Although you were entirely naked before him, with every inch of your skin displayed. At first, Mando did not even remove his gloves.

During those early encounters, you would barely even touch him. Fearful of being scolded, of ruining what you had. He often took you from behind, pounding into you after he bent you over the crates or the edge of his bunk. Sometimes on the cockpit's dashboard itself, if you were particularly desperate for each other and could not make it down the ladder to your bunk.

Still, the more you and Mando got intimate with one another, the more desperate you were to reach the man below.

When he finally allowed you to ride him as he sat on the red leather seat of the cockpit, your ass brushing against the cool metal of his thigh plates, you took your chance.

You frantically pushed through the coarse material of his cowl and moved the material which guarded his neck so you could place your lips upon the soft, golden skin you discovered there.

Mando did not seem to mind, never pushing you away.

It became a ritual whenever you slept together. You, delighting as you sucked marks that no one else would be able to see, while Mando groaned and praised you.

You knew the marks were just between the two of you, for your eyes only. Still, their presence nonetheless gave you a thrill in the days afterwards. Especially, when you saw him interacting with others. To know that you had marked him. You had claimed him as yours.

It was a heady prospect that this formidable Mandalorian warrior had been reduced to a whimpering mess by your lips, by such a simple act. He had allowed you to claim him.

It was also a dangerous prospect… to think of him as yours.

You did not dwell on it for too long, however.

After that first time you desperately sought out his skin as you rode him in the cockpit, something shifted deep within Mando.

That small action had clearly awakened some previously untouched feelings in him. The next time you slept together Mando allowed you to remove his flightsuit. You had not acknowledged this shift or dared to believe that it could mean that he held any deeper feelings for you than the lust and desperation borne out of your encounters.

Still, from that day forth, rather than just taking his impressive length out and nothing else, he would undress himself and wait for you on the bunk, clad in nothing but his helmet.

It was a sign of ultimate trust. Of vulnerability from a man who you knew rarely allowed himself to feel such an emotion.

Now you lie here despondently at the knowledge that you have ruined everything.

Your heart constricts as you remember how close you and Mando once had been. How much you had trusted each other. Entirely. Unquestioningly.

Those times seem so distant now.

Now that you and Mando have stopped speaking.

Since your last encounter more than a week ago, which happened in the aftermath of a particularly stressful job on the forest planet where you had collected your latest bounty, he has not said a word to you.

Mando has been completely ignoring your existence… and you have a pretty good idea as to the reason why.

In fact, as you think back to your most recent encounter, turning over the thoughts in your mind once again, you are certain of the moment you ruined everything…

✯✯✯✯✯

You had barely made it to the bunk, so desperate for each other after spending days camped out in the undergrowth. Dirt still clung to your pores, invading every crease of your body. There had been no opportunity to use the sonic. You were preoccupied with loading up the bounty, as Mando started the Razor Crest’s launch sequence. Despite your dishevelled, filthy appearance, Mando did not seem to mind. He initiated another encounter without hesitation.

Your condition seemed to unlock something primal within him when you bore yourself to him, traces of dirt on your skin. The musky scent of the forest planet clung to him as he bared his hulking form to you after stripping out of his flightsuit. He was feral, desperate for you as he pounded into you at a merciless pace. Mando moaned loudly and chanted your name as though it were a sacred prayer until he finished with one long growl of your name in his deep, gravelly voice that strained under each syllable.

In the aftermath, as you lay on his strong chest, you allowed your mind to wander. You wondered what the man beneath the helmet looked like. Whether he was as attractive as the rest of his body suggested. His body was firm and toned without being overwhelmingly muscular. There was a softness to his belly and chest you appreciated. A physique more than appropriate for a man of his age.

You ached to move your hands beneath his helmet, tracing his features with your fingers so that you may see him in the only way possible for you to do so. To catch the vaguest of glimpses of the man who had brought you so much pleasure over the last few months.

Still blissed out from your multiple orgasms and barely comprehending the gravity of your words and how dangerously close to the line you were stepping, you said something which you wished you could take back almost as soon as the words were out of your mouth.

“I wish I could see your face when you moan my name, Mando,” you sighed as you lay there in the afterglow.

The shift was immediate. You felt Mando tense beneath you. Your comment had unsettled him. The guilt was immediate.

“Wait, Mando,” you quickly added, your blood ran cold as you realised your carelessness, “I wasn’t asking you to remove it… I was just thinking out loud. Please, Mando, I…”

Your words were cut off when he shuffled out from beneath you, disentangling himself from your limbs that had been entwined ever since you collapsed in a heap of breathless satisfaction after your latest encounter.

Without uttering a single word to you, you heard Mando’s heavy footsteps echo throughout the metallic hull and disappear into the fresher to finally wash the grime from his body.

When he finally exited, you attempted to apologise to him one more time. Unfortunately, he was thoroughly uninterested in anything you had to say. You stood before him, the threadbare blanket from the bunk wrapped around you, pleading for mercy. A formidable bounty hunter reduced to a trembling wreck, begging for Mando's forgiveness. Mando did not respond to anything you said. Instead, he immediately excused himself while mumbling about checking the hyperdrive generator.

✯✯✯✯✯

Throughout the last few miserable days, you have distracted yourself from the uneasy atmosphere which hangs heavy in the ship by thoroughly polishing each one of your blasters and thinking back to happier times.

Like the time when Mando stripped himself from his flightsuit for the first time and allowed you to finally see him almost entirely. As entirely as you ever would.

The way his taut, toned flesh felt underneath your fingers as you traced each ridge of his muscles with delicate, tentative fingers. His sweaty skin slapped against yours, an obscene noise which reverberated throughout the rest of the ship.

As you lie back on your bunk, you cannot help your fingers trailing down your abdomen. Lower and lower until they reach between your thighs.

You are stunned by how wet you are before you have even touched yourself, so turned on by merely the memories of Mando.

You gather your wetness with your fingers before you begin moving them in a circular motion over your sensitive bundle of nerves.

You think back to that first time you laid eyes upon Mando. His impressive physique. The way he picked up the pace to fuck you even harder when you raked your nails down his flesh. Moaning and grunting into your neck as you left marks down his broad back.

You remember the unmistakable scent of sex that lingered in the air afterwards, amplified by the fact there were now two bare bodies during your encounters, not just one. It was almost overwhelming to your senses, the scent of him. So masculine and musky. So Mando.

You groan at the memory, clenching around nothing. You feel so empty, desperate to feel the delicious burn as Mando’s thick cock stretches you and reaches parts of you never filled before. You slide two fingers inside yourself and begin thrusting out. Although it satisfies the ache, it pales in comparison to the fullness and completeness you feel whenever Mando snaps his hips forward and thrusts into you in one fluid motion.

You try to remember how he felt, pathetically imagining that your fingers are in any way comparable to his touch. To his length. It is the best you are going to get, for now.

Your nipples pebble and tighten beneath the thin cotton shirt you wear. The material provides some friction, but nothing as satisfying as when Mando would roll them between his thumb and forefinger, causing you to throw your head back in ecstasy. Still, you moan at the memory, continuing to thrust your fingers inside of you with one hand while the other massages your clit.

“Mando,” you gasp when you pick the pace up.

Both hands and your fingers working in tandem still are nowhere near as satisfying as even one of Mando’s thick, calloused digits.

“Kriff, Mando!” you yell as your legs begin trembling.

You are so close now. That familiar feeling builds somewhere deep inside of you. A coil tightening, ready to release.

A familiar voice behind you, tone full of concern, “Are you okay? I heard–” followed by a gasp of surprise and hastily retreating footsteps kills the mood instantly.

“Sith hells!” you exclaim, annoyed to have been interrupted when you were so close to climax.

That frustrated feeling soon gives way to embarrassment as you realise that Mando probably heard you from all the way up in the cockpit. He has spent much of his time up there, only descending the ladder to use the fresher or prepare himself rations. Even then, he usually only comes down when he can hear that you have sealed yourself into your bunk for the night.

You must have called his name far louder than you had realised in the throes of passion. You wonder how you will ever face him again. You pull your pants up and step out of the bunk, keen to at least attempt to converse with the stubborn buckethead.

Fortunately, you do not have to wait long. Mando soon emerges from the fresher. There is an awkward silence. He stands there, clad in his flightsuit and helmet, clenching and unclenching his gloved fists at his sides repeatedly. It is a mannerism you recognise well, usually seen when he is trying to size up a target or decide his next move. Is that how he sees you—as prey?!

“Mando,” you breathe, “Please, can we talk?”

Mando does not move a muscle. He stands perfectly still, at full height. A looming, intimidating presence in the darkness of the hull.

“Look, I know I upset you the other day,” you begin, sincerely laying out your feelings and hoping that he comprehends how remorseful you are. “I’m so sorry, Mando. Please believe me. I know what I said was thoughtless, but I wasn’t thinking. I would never expect you to take your helmet off for me. I know how much being a Mandalorian means to you. I would never try to come between you and your Creed,” you promise.

You briefly pause, searching Mando’s body language for the smallest clue as to his feelings. Unfortunately, he is so used to hiding his emotions from the rest of the galaxy that you cannot glean even a crumb of information.

“I miss you, Mando,” you sigh, “And not just like that!” you hastily add, hoping that he does not think your apology is in any way related to the compromising position he just caught you in.

Mando remains perfectly still. It’s progress, at least. He has not retreated. You take that as a sign to continue.

“I miss the nights we spent together in the cockpit, sharing memories of our past and discussing our hopes for the future. The way you would always make sure there was a warm cup of caf for me each morning when I finally hauled myself from the bunk. You were always so eager to rise, while I have never been a morning person,” you smile fondly, attempting to fight the tears that have suddenly pooled on your waterline. “Remember when you showed me each of your weapons? Showing me just how you liked them polished and ordered. Somewhere along the way, they became our arsenal, Mando. Our weapons are together in the locker, side-by-side. Just like us.”

You finally get the first clue of the impact your words are having on Mando when his broad shoulders rise and fall. The shaky breath he takes is amplified by his vocoder. Reminiscing has left him emotional on some level, too. It’s a positive sign. You make headway with it.

“I will forever be grateful for the day I overheard that conversation with Karga in that Cantina on Nevarro. Even though I used to curse this ship after I first came aboard, I think it was the best thing that ever happened to me. Without it and the loan you took out to cover costs, you would never have required someone else. I know…” you sigh, choosing your next words carefully as you are painfully aware that you are likely going to come dangerously close to overstepping another boundary. “I know that you do not always take kindly to strangers, Mando. I know that you have been alone for so long that you have probably forgotten what it feels like to be with someone else. But what we had was something special. I miss that. I miss us, Mando.”

Mando’s helmet falls, then. His unrelenting, steely gaze is finally off you. You are getting through to him. You keep talking, hoping that your words have the desired effect.

“You mean so much more to me than our encounters, Mando,” you confess. “I enjoyed every second, don’t get me wrong. But I would take them all back in a heartbeat to go back to how things were before. I would rather have only had you in my life platonically than having you like that and losing you…

What happens next catches you completely off-guard.

Firstly, Mando tilts his helmet up. His helmet is finally level with you again, focused on you. You look into the dark, T-visor where you imagine his eyes would be. You can almost feel his eyes on you. Your heart starts thundering. You feel that connection back. That spark.

Before you even have time to digest his actions, Mando’s deep voice finally breaks the silence:

“I love you,” he says simply.

Does he love you?! You are sure you misheard him. Your desperate mind is playing the cruellest trick of all.

“Y-You love me?” you choke out in disbelief.

“I do.”

“Oh, Mando, I love you too,” you tearfully whisper.

“Din,” Mando rasps.

You look at him questioningly.

“My name,” Mando nods, “It’s Din. Din Djarin.”

“Din Djarin,” you murmur the name of the man you love with such reverence, as though it is a sacred prayer, enjoying the way your mouth curves around each letter.

Your head is still spinning from Din’s declaration and the reveal of his name. You have barely had time to process the events which have just transpired when he drops the next bombshell on you.

“I want to remove my helmet in front of you,” Din declares, “I want you to know me entirely.”

“Din, I wouldn’t expect such a thing,” you shake your head frantically, “Just because we have confessed our feelings, I would never expect you to take such a drastic step.”

“That…” he sighs, “Is precisely why I am taking such a step.”

You do not have time to vocalise any further protestations. Before another thought can enter your mind, Din lifts shaky gloved hands to the side of his helmet. You hear the unmistakable sound of a Mandalorian helmet depressurising. Something you had only ever heard through the door of the fresher until now.

Din trembles as he lifts his helmet. The emotion of the moment takes its toll as he prepares to finally bear his face to you. Your mind almost goes blank. All you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears and his heavy breaths.

As the gleaming helmet finally begins to lift across his features and reveal his face to you, you get your first glimpse of the man you love.

You see patchy stubble across his jawline, a neatly trimmed moustache plush which sits atop plush, full lips, a strong nose and then, with his helmet fully removed, his most striking feature of all. His eyes. The most soulful pair of deep brown eyes that you have ever encountered.

Din Djarin is stunning. Heartachingly so.

With just one look at his face, you know that you will never be able to allow this beautiful man to slip through your fingers.

“Din,” you whisper, your eyes filling with tears as he stands there before you, his helmet clutched before him as he looks up at you.

There is so much nervousness and anxiety in his gaze that your heart aches for him. Unable to bear the eye contact any longer, Din bends down and places his helmet at his feet with a satisfying clunk.

He stands up straight again, but not to his full height. With his face bared and the slight tremble evident in his body. You no longer see a hulking Mandalorian warrior and feared bounty hunter. Instead, you see a frightened man, who has never known such intimacy before.

“You are so handsome, Din Djarin,” you whisper, as you close the distance between you.

Din’s mouth hangs open as your words sink in. You raise your hand, realising you are trembling with emotion, and timidly place it along his jawline. The patchy stubble is scratchy underneath your fingers.

“Devastatingly handsome, in fact,” you clarify.

“Thank you,” Din nods gratefully.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Din swallows thickly, steadying himself. When his brown eyes fly open and meet yours again, you notice the apprehension has been replaced by something different altogether.

Din’s brown eyes are aflame, burning with desire for you. You sense he is desperate to act on his feelings, but unsure of how to proceed.

“Can I kiss you?” you request.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” Din murmurs, closing his eyes again.

“You’ll learn quickly,” you say encouragingly.

Din nods slowly, without opening his eyes.

You close the distance between you, hovering an inch from his lips. You want Din to make the final move, to bring your lips together.

When he finally does, it is so achingly sweet and timid that you are surprised this is the same man who has bent you over crates and driven into you over and over, at a relentless pace. Until you were bruised and sore the next day from the force.

Din pulls away, breathing deeply. A simple touch has been almost overwhelming for him.

You wait for his next move, allowing him to take the lead with what he is comfortable with. When Din finally leans in again, he is more eager to claim your lips. The kisses deepen, growing increasingly frenzied as your tongues collide. Your hand trails along Din’s jawline and grazes along his neck. When you move your hands into his hair and tangle your fingers in the soft strands there, Din groans and presses his body against you.

In response, you lean your head to the side to give him unfettered access to your mouth. Din does not hesitate to take advantage, deepening the kiss without hesitation. He moves his enormous hands up to your cheeks, cupping them in his enormous hands.

Your kisses grow more desperate and frenzied, the moaning and panting increasing. Although Din was inexperienced and clumsy at first, your teeth clashing and his tongue searching yours desperately before he learned a more pleasurable ratio of tongue to mouth, you discover that he is indeed a quick learner. He nibbles on your lip, using his teeth in a way that he discovers you like as you throw your head backwards and gasp his name. You are still getting accustomed to the novelty of being able to call him something other than Mando.

When your lungs burn, Din finally pulls away. The two of you furiously gulp air into your lungs, steadying your breaths as your eyes meet. You allow yourself to look at Din once again, admiring the features which are so new to you. Yet somehow, comfortingly familiar. You feel as though you have always known his face. In Din’s brown eyes, you see awe, shock and lust. Despite their already dark colour, they are blackened by something primal.

You are about to suggest taking this to your bunk when Din drops to his knees before you, a dark look on his face. You are about to question the gesture when he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of your pants and shimmies them down your legs as he goes.

He kisses a path up your legs, pushing himself up so he kneels one leg as he pays particular attention to your inner thighs. Din takes his time teasing you. He removes the final barrier between you, discarding the pesky fabric elsewhere.

When Din finally kneels before you, your glistening core bare to him you feel your knees weaken as he licks his lips at the sight in front of him. You groan, barely able to remain vertical. Thankfully, Din is holding your hips firmly in position, his gloved hands digging into your flesh.

At the sight of him on his knees like this before you, you think that this experience cannot possibly be any more arousing.

Then, his tongue touches you where you have been aching for him to place his mouth most of all, and you discover how wrong you were.

He wastes no time sliding his tongue through your wet folds. Din makes up for his inexperience with enthusiasm and you move your hands down to run your fingers through his soft, dark curls. Keen to keep him in just the right spot, especially when he finally places his tongue where your fingers had been frantically circling minutes ago.

“Din!” you gasp, when his tongue picks up its pace, clenching your thighs around his head and feeling his facial hair tickle your inner thighs.

Hearing his name fall from your lips in such a desperate manner only encourages him. He continues lapping at your core with a renewed fire and determination.

“Just there, just like that,” you praise.

Din continues for a few more moments and you feel your orgasm gathering pace within you. When your legs begin to shake, he moves his head back and you almost scream in frustration. But then you see the look on his face, and his sins are soon forgiven.

“Know how long I’ve wanted to bury my face between your thighs?” Din rasps, his voice barely audible and muffled thanks to his current position. “So beautiful,” he adds, before his tongue is on you again and all coherent thought leaves.

The pace is relentless now, Din swirling his tongue around your most sensitive spot as he seems driven to please you. To have you screaming his name so loud they can hear you all across the galaxy.

You chant his name over and over as your orgasm finally breaks, causing pleasure to reverberate throughout your body. Every inch of you is on fire for him. Din looks up at you, his brown eyes practically black. He makes an obscene slurping noise as he seems determined to collect everything on his tongue, not allowing a single drop of you to go to waste.

“Delicious,” Din rasps as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, looking at you with a satisfied smirk.

You cannot believe how much he seems to relish in your release. How much it arouses him. You know he has always enjoyed pleasing you, just as much as receiving his release. Now, his benevolent nature is on full display once again.

Satisfied you can at least stand by yourself, Din rises to his feet. He looms over you, eyes meeting yours and softening briefly, with something which looks suspiciously like love. You wonder how long he has looked at you like that. How many affectionate glances have been stolen from your eyes by his helmet?

None of that matters, now.

Your train of thought is interrupted as Din resumes kissing you, pinning you up against the cold metallic walls of the Razor Crest. You can barely breathe, unable to move for a few moments as he kisses you. Once you regain feeling in your trembling legs, you begin nudging Din in the direction of the bunk.

He never breaks the kiss as you stumble across the floor. Din cannot get enough of kissing you, his enormous hands roaming all over your body.

The kiss is only broken once the back of your knees hits the bunk. You sit on the hard surface, looking up at him flirtatiously through your eyelashes. You decide Din is far too clothed for your liking and move to free his straining bulge from his tight brown flightsuit. Before you can feel his familiar length in your hand, he places his hand on your wrist and moves you away from him.

You look at him in confusion before he whispers, “Lie back, cyar’ika. Let me take care of you.”

You do as he says, but not before divesting yourself of your clothes. You lie back, awaiting him. Buzzing with excitement to finally lay eyes on Din Djarin in his entirety.

You are entranced as you watch his muscles contract and relax as he removes his flightsuit. Broad muscles and chest bared to you, then his stomach and lower... his muscular thighs and toned calves. The most incredible sight you have ever seen.

Din crawls up the bunk and positions himself on top of you, supporting himself with his elbows as he resumes your makeout session with just as much veracity as before. He plunges his tongue into your mouth over and over, desperate to taste you.

It seems as though Din is scared that he will never have a chance to claim you like this again. Later, you will remind him that you are his for the rest of your days.

For now, you cannot form words, conveying your pleasure only through broken sounds which are torn from your body by Din’s skilled mouth.

The usual straining metallic groans of the Razor Crest as it hurtles through hyperspace are joined by its occupants’ moans and gasps as they collide.

You notice that Din has finally shed his gloves when he takes your breasts in his hands. Squeezing the soft flesh and staring at them as though it is the first time he has ever laid eyes upon them. In a way, it is the first time he has seen many of your features with his own eyes, finally free from the dark visor that distorts everything.

Suddenly remembering he can take your flesh in his mouth, Din begins kissing the valley between your breasts. He trails kisses along both of them, one at a time, paying them equal attention. As though he is worshipping you. Discovering new ways he can show his affection for you. With his helmet removed, an entire galaxy of new possibilities has been opened to him. Now, there are so many ways to demonstrate his affection for you, to revere all the parts of your body he loves so much.

Although you are enjoying his ministrations, you are growing somewhat frustrated by Din’s languid pace. The frenzied kisses and touches have given way to gentle, almost timid, exploration of your body from Din’s lips. When you are about to whine pathetically and beg him to pay attention to your aching buds, Din finally envelops them in his wet heat. He begins paying careful attention to the most sensitive part of your breast. The place where you most wanted his mouth.

You gasp as he begins mouthing sloppy kisses around your nipple, before finally swirling his tongue around your hardened peak. You arch your back off the bunk, giving more of yourself to him. Even in your desire-addled state, you think about how much better his mouth feels than gloved fingers and hands kneading your breasts.

You grind your hips up against Din’s hardness, desperate for some friction. Clenching around nothing as he continues sucking your nipple, each swirl of his tongue only making you more desperate for him.

When you can take it no longer, you place your hand on Din’s head and pull his hair lightly. He looks up at you, raising a dark eyebrow at you.

“Din, please,” you whine, desperate for him to finally take you.

Often, the man you knew only as Mando would tease you at this point. When he had used his deft fingers to draw an orgasm or two from you, leaving you desperate for him. You knew he was satisfied that you were ready for him, but he still wanted to hear it from your mouth. Before giving you what you wanted, he would command you to use your words in a firm tone. Imploring you to tell him where you wanted him.

Fortunately, it appears that the man who has confessed his love for you, will not cruelly tease you. Din is just as desperate as you are; aching for that moment when he finally enters you.

Din kisses a hot trail up the column of your neck, thrusting his hips against you in desperation. He joins his lips with yours one last time before leaning up and taking himself in hand to line himself up with you.

“Wanted to savour this moment but, kriff! You’re so perfect…” Din rambles, “Don’t think I can wait,” he grunts as he notches himself at your entrance.

“Then don’t,” you sigh, begging him to put you both out of your misery.

Din nods, joining your lips one last time before he slides himself into you in one swift, fluid moment. You practically see stars.

Somehow, he feels even bigger. It has not been too long since your last encounter. Even still, you have forgotten how impressive his length is. Your fantasies could not accurately capture how his hardness touches places so deep inside of you that you wonder how it is possible.

Although the friction and sensation are delicious, particularly as Din keeps pressing kisses all over your face and neck, you know that you won’t last long. Since Din caught you earlier when you were so close, you have been on the edge almost continually. Now, he is thrusting into you at a relentless pace. That familiar ache is back. This time, there are no interruptions. Din does not slow down or pull away. You quickly come with another gasp of his name.

After watching you come undone, you are surprised that Din does not let himself go. That he does not allow himself the release you sense he is so desperately chasing. Instead, he continues to ride out your orgasm as he thrusts into you harshly.

“One more,” Din encourages, cupping your cheek in his hand, “I know you have one more for me.”

You nod shakily, eager to please him. In response, Din clashes your lips together, grunting against your lips as he finds a new increased tempo that you are stunned he could muster. All the while impressively maintaining a steady rhythm.

“That’s it,” Din encourages as he feels the way your pants increase and your legs tremble.

When you come with another shout of his name, Din finally lets himself go. His thrusts become increasingly erratic before he finally comes with a shout of your name, burying his face into your neck. His pants are warm against your neck as he paints your belly with hot, thick ropes of his spend.

Din stays like that for a few more moments, careful not to hurt you with his weight as he regains his composure lying on top of you. You feel so content and begin absentmindedly tracing circles into his warm, broad back.

Then, he lifts himself from you. You smile when he lays his head next to you on the pillow, still feeling your heart leap as you realise that you actually get to look at his face. Din looks thoroughly pleased with the events of the night. Happy that he could please you over and over.

“I love you, Din Djarin,” you whisper fondly as you bring your hand up to his jawline, stroking his cheek softly with your thumb.

“I love you too, ner kar’ta,” Din smiles in return, turning his cheek to press a kiss on the palm of your hand.

Since that first encounter in the Cantina on Nevarro, you and Mando have always been partners. Travelling through the galaxy as a formidable, feared pair of bounty hunters.

Now, you and Din are partners… in every sense of the word.

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