#so i guess it's time to plot another fic that's a little sexy but not smutty | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yinses · 1 year

Text

all and half pt. i

in which your fate intended is the one person you can achieve true pleasure from

pairing: modern au! alhaitham x fem! reader, minor kaveh wc: 10k+ (i wrote over 70k+ words for genshin alone last year, that's crazy talk) rating: mature 18+

a/n: so we have two people to thank for this. 1. @mystic-sky rescued my sanity with this fic. i always worry about characterization and plot sense. she's actually the culprit who got me into genshin so really it all started with her. and she made me tear up a bit so here we are. 2. you guessed it, @mediocrityexpert who never failed to mention this man at all opportunities with pictures included until i became the simp you see now. this fic is meant to be her wish banner charm! hope this story brings as much joy as his homecoming

you had a plan.

a simple and easy one-step outline that was meant to be fool-proof for a lifetime.

avoid your fate intended and you wouldn’t have any problems

the idea of connecting with another living being on a level of complexity assisted by the archons would be thought to be a spiritual venture. except the very gods who wrote the lining principals found more value in physical compatibility rather than soul binding merit.

it was proclaimed, since what is thought to be the beginning of teyvet, that an individual's soul would be tied to another through the carnal utopia found at the peak of an orgasm. scholars liked to believe that it was a forethought with intention to cultivate the proliferation of humanity; but you like some just inhaled a little too much meditation incense.

if you never reached true nirvana then there was nothing for you to compare it to. thus, you could go about enjoying the frivolousness of life and it's untethered freedom.

there was something to say about 'true love' when your soulmate could only be found at the peak of an orgasm. they say for those who have had sex in the past that nothing is commensurable beyond that. you don’t even have to love the person. the sex is just that good.

apparently it’s the worst for virgins—never knowing what came before and rarely having the courage to experience anything less.

the idea of soulmates was a broken concept of love. ruining stable relationships for the desire of an infallible sexual experience. to think fates were willing to reduce passion down to its most carnal physical form and bind people to it.

it was the forbidden fruit for some.

or what was left after it fell from the hands of celestia.

you weren’t in a relationship; had nothing to tie you down. but you refused to have your body hijacked by one person who could only rock your world because of erotic devine intervention.

it didn’t make you easy by any terms, just determined to always have a taste for what else the world had to offer.

there was good sex out there.

mind blowing, leg numbing sex.

and not everyone needed the most expensive cake in the shop to achieve satisfaction.

and that had been the testament of your life thus far, until today.

you were there, edging over the line you’d come to know like a second home, when it all just stopped.

the sheets shifted as the figure hovering above used his hold against your headboard to halt the progression of his hips.

“sorry, i just can’t.”

and the dessert began to crumble.

his face pinched in a way that was far from sexy, “it’s not you.”

of all the times.

“i just thought it was all myth and legend you know. it wasn’t possible for one person to hold the key to your sexual awakening, right?”

and now he was pulling out. no, no, no. you head hit the stale fluff of your pillow with a thump.

“or maybe it’s just you-.

you found flimsy satisfaction thump in the sound that came from knocking the second pillow into the blonde head of hair.

“okay, okay. not you. it was great before. but now it’s just—“

archons.

groaning into the mattress, you accepted that the mood was beyond repairable, left to simmer in the rustled sheets and sticky wetness connecting your thighs. honestly what was fate thinking ruining a perfectly good thing.

“you don’t even love them, kaveh.” you grumbled out crassly. maybe it was a little insensitive. but it was true.

he’d run into them on a whim, no more bound to you than you were him. it had only taken one night and and a short consideration to make a difference it seemed. kaveh had once he was a pessimist like you; willing to stick a middle finger to fate and find your own asylum without discovering the road paved out for you.

the two of you shared stories, marking your own sexual discoveries while exploring ones of your own. you could have married him.

maybe.

eventually, possibly, after accepting that you had unearthed all you could from your back- and other various positions.

were you selfish to deem it unfair ?

you’d taken a chance. you filtered through all the variables in an attempt to beat the odds. only to have it slapped in your face. and they even took away your orgasm with a last hoorah.

“it’s fine.”

it wasn’t.

well, you would move on. he was the best so far but there were plenty of fish in the sea it seemed as if he caught a bigger one, so to say. it wasn’t the least bit awkward as the two of you gathered your clothing, less of you as in the comfort of your own home you were comfortable in just a shirt and panties.

an old shirt of his in fact.

the last of your collection.

he has the nerve to actually look guilty at the door and you can’t bring yourself to weigh him down any further.

“hey, we were in a mission to find all the wonders of sex. be happy you get to clock out before your dick fell off.” the pat on the shoulder you give him feels lacking, but you had to stretch to get there so it wasn’t without effort.

his lips split into a small cautionary smile.

“hey, maybe yours is—“

no. nope. no evil spirits in your house.

all hospitality leaves you as you press and prod him through the door. just because he was content didn’t mean you were ready to accept the deal.

“don’t let your next orgasm send you into a coma. baby steps, kaveh.”

he laughs like you expect him too, waving you off with a wider grin as he departs, likely to slip into the bed of his dreams.

and now you were left with an absent orgasm and one less reliable partner.

great.

| ⚘⚘⚘ |

it’s funny how something so soul binding can’t even be properly taught in school. it's wholeness left for young people to discover on their own experience and limited research on the subject available to the general public. teachers spoke lightly on the topic of becoming one with another through body and soul.

the only interesting thing to come from joining the akademiya was dissertations being written as close to erotic novels.

you convinced yourself to take it easy-ier over the last few weeks since kaveh's unforeseen retreat. you were not that desperate for a good lay and fate would end up handing you want you didn’t desire if you weren’t careful. so instead of your usual nightclubs and after hour ventures, you found yourself wasting hours in lighter pubs.

maybe not completely losing time. a decent drink and sound music was as good a stress reliever as any.

relaxing into the bar seat, you manage to keep from losing your balance. the lack of back support seemed like a latent encouragement of chances of falling to the floor, but you were only two glasses in at the moment. as your fingers traced the edge of the glass in languid circles, you wonder if you should just call it a night.

it had been quite awhile since you’d let yourself wander into bars. back in your early undergrad days, it had been in the accompaniment of friends to alleviate any stress built up over the semester. it was safe to say you’d matured a little since then; or at least discover an alternative that was just as satisfying.

but then kaveh had to go and ruin that.

it was as equally frustrating to admit you were both dissatisfied with the abrupt departure as you were pleased it ended before it festered into something too entangled for you both to escape. though 'finding your soulmate ‘ route was still well outside your expectations.

nearly a year ago, your introduction to kaveh had been fortuitous. he was a graduate, senior to your status, but a frequent of the akademiya due to renovation projects. he had been a pretty face, an easy distraction when his latest construction was near the vahumana school grounds.

all it took was a pair of wandering eyes and a few smiles to strike up a conversation. after a cursory drink here and there and a night out of fun, the kindling chemistry began.

it had never been an intention for either party to make it more than that. one shot too many had kaveh confessing about his mountains of debt that put him in direct servitude to the akademiya.

and you had no desire to date either, at least not while the sages were still prickling your nerves about research. but you also were willing to admit that you were getting a little too old to be bar hopping for a night out.

kaveh fit comfortably in the midst of both criteria.

he was a reliable lay and it helped that lately it took effort to run into one another. he was always focused on a new project and you spent more time in the library than your own apartment. which was ironic, because the majority of your ‘meetings’ occurred at your place rather than his.

something about a belligerent roommate.

now he was out gallivanting in the desert in the pursuit of creative inspiration; an interesting metaphor when he was towing his newest obsession along for the ride.

but apparently that was a thing of the past as you found yourself in an establishment that was better referred to as a tavern than a bar, or at least one less frequented by akademiya students. the campus bars were always full and bursting with a cocktail of students and occasional faculty members. it was a dangerous mix of egos and alcohol.

it was why you found it worth it to venture to port ortmos on occasion to the habour tavern. the lack of boisterous music was nice, but the atmosphere was empty of intrigue. not to mention the place hardly offered a promising selection. not a favorable gift of wine, and top shelf liquor was hardly in their vocabulary, let alone supply list. you decided eventually not to waste time trying to explain the ingredient of a zaytum sunrise.

a sigh tickled you lips and your shoulders sagged an inch lower. really there were more pressing issues than laminating over bed partners. you were rapidly approaching the end of your scholarship, making you one step closer to your dissertation. which was still a prospective theory with no hardened evidence worth presenting.

it took something akin to guts to challenge the age old belief of soulmates. in sumeru, it was the equivalent of a religion and you stood as the outsider throwing rocks at the stained glass chapel.

what you believed wasn't meant to be interpurted as hate, but clashing ideology tended to paint one side as the villain in order to raise the value of the rest.

you didn’t want to topple the pedagogy, but be given the opportunity to confront it fairly. but with a theory so widely supported in droves, it was no surprise that no one took it seriously. the akademiya hadn’t even blinked when you had proposed it, not threatened in the slightest.

nor had you wanted them to be. all you wanted was to be heard and given the chance to provide a new perspective.

your mentor had been rather agreable about the matter, offering encouragement and diffusing tension in equal bouts. but they also had their concerns, more so for your future than the present.

though not insistent on deterring you, they often hinted at your growing fascination in conservation and rejuvenation of old practices to save the future. the histories of the past often held secrets for the future, they liked to say. vahumana was as proud as any house, determined to make their mark on the world and the research that gave it life.

but you liked to argue that the past also had plenty of mistakes as well, a shaky ground to dispute your soulmate theory on but one worth grasping all the same.

“maybe i should just summerise my conservation efforts,” you grumbled audibly, reluctantly tipping the ice-melted drink down the back of your throat. it was the easy way out. the more practical route with postgraduate application as well.

discussing soulmates with anyone felt too much like a religious sermon. the emotional process was part of the passion needed to drive the evidence behind the dissertation. half of the presentation was to comfort the audience of your opinion and you had plenty to say on the matter.

cutting your gaze back over your shoulder, you gradually took in the atmosphere of the tavern. it was small, likely a family owned heirloom passed down generations, a homey style that you’d seen quite a few bars back in the city try to replicate. frankly, it was dusty, cracked and you missed the appeal but it seemed popular with the quieter population. perhaps not as full tonight, but most tables were occupied by one or two patrons. sensibility correcting your wandering gaze, you reluctantly trained your eyes back forward. no need to garner anyones attention, there was hardly anyone here for that kind of late night ventures. mature men were a stark difference from akademiya students. you shudder off the imaginary thought of a stranger’s touch.

eventually you set your glass down for the last time, signalling the bartender without a word as he rounded back to check on you. in their approach you considered balancing one more round on your psyche. it’d been only been your second glass, watered down at that. you’d linger longer if need be to sober up. but archons, did you just want a glass of wine.

you parted your lips to initiate the order, the bartender not far away to request, but then his gaze was snapping beyond you. a slow tilt of familiarity formed his lips, followed by a polite wave. mannerisms encouraged you not to turn your head, but curiosity was a painful pinch. it was almost too difficult to resist. you were grateful when the bartender moved for you, not even perturbed when he bypassed you for a few seats down.

the quiet bustle was still too heavy for the distant conversation to carry. idly you twist at the mini straw floating along the melting ice as you way.

it took a few more moments for the bartender to return to you, an apology muted at his lips but you shrugged it off, sliding the glass closer. “just one more. no ice.” he gave his affirmation, the soft smile still lingering. you weren’t piqued by his brightened service. he’d been nothing but amicable to you, but it was something to take notice of.

the moment his back turned, the burning itch came back. just a peek. everyone got first looks, it wouldn't put you on the spot. you was sure it was nothing you hadn’t seen before but now you had to be certain of it, the tethers of inquisitiveness pulling at your gaze.

okay, well you definitely hadn’t seen that.

he was certainly something to observe. the first thing that caught your attention was his musculature, mainly the girth of his arms that were propped against the bar as unaware of the potential interest they could draw. not to say it was the first time you had been impressed, but he was filled out in a way that tore a page out of a different volume. you had grown use to the leaner builds at the akademiya.

but it wasn’t just his build, his presence alone took up so much space it was already hard enough to miss him without that silver threaded hair. he held an air of authority that felt strangely familiar yet foreign in the port.

the click of glass against the counter brought heat to your cheeks as you were caught, your head whipping back to attention. “thank you,” but he was already gone, moving on to the next attendant.

you filtered through a quiet breath, pretending to be engaged by your phone with spotty service. at this point you were nearing an issue you weren’t ready to admit to at such an early stage. while you were comfortable in saying you could go quite a while without kaveh, the eccentric architecture; kavrh jr’s absence was starting to have some drawbacks.

to think the bastard was possibly warming someone else’s bed while you refrained from tempting your own. what you refused to believe was that it was the best time of his life. you brought that man closet to the archons than anyone could.

yet here you were siting alone in a tavern nearly undressing a stranger after hardly a few weeks of no intimacy. what were you thinking even considering the idea? the bartender floated neatly around him but aside from that he hardly gave the impression of being approachable.

archons ... and weren’t you just imagining how uncomfortable it would be to be approached by someone from this bar. but technically weren’t you one encroaching now? had this been just another city establishment, for one you’d have some proper wine. but at the very least you’d usually just talk. if the receiving end didn’t like it, then oh well, you weren’t circling them like they were the sun.

so he wouldn’t be any different.

besides, if you didn't say anything now you’d be running scenarios of this moment until you really did go insane. you dreaded the thought already.

you were slightly attracted to him- okay, pretty attracted. and you were still a young adult, it was the season of flings and one offs. surviving your final year at the akademiya thrived a little excitement. cutting your eyes sideways, you recalculated your chances. maybe he-

“if you have something to say, say it. your flittering is just as distracting.”

if warmth described you before, flames were dancing beneath your skin now. the man wasn’t discreet in the slightest, not caring who listen to the exchange. or maybe he was speaking to someone else- oh no, he was looking at you and he was not very intrigued. for a pause you were caught by a churring sea of turquoise.

you stumbled over deliberation shortly before a new emotion countered the transition. weren’t you just accepting cutting losses? if he was lacking interest then what was the point.

against your internal will, your lips pulled into a scowl at the potent irritated disinterest in his voice. “yes, because i’m sure it’s me that’s distracting”

well, that was not exactly how you intended to start this whole scenerio. playing hard to get was already a slippery slope and your face of indifference was faltering. you could see it mirroring back from the look of reflection on his face. or maybe that was just him contemplating the consequences of just leaving. or maybe he was truly in with the owner enough to kick you out.

for another moment it looked like he might just, and then something shifted. he reached for his glass again, the amber colour much like your own but in a higher volume. the amount of his intake challenged yours as well, or so you would have noticed if you hadn’t been so entranced by the movement of his adam’s apple.

“-students.”

what?

you caught the tail end of fostering chagrin but you knew you were rapidly eating up his reserves for patience. really, he could have just been here to relax, not get harassed by some akademiya scholar.

the man stared at you for a second longer, then scoffed. “apparently the standards have dropped. what school are you from?”

“i…” you trail off, feeling a little nonplussed by the implied merit. “vahumana.”

he hums, a sound audibly dry with scrutiny. “the study of history and the past of our predecessors. fitting to dig into the business of others as you cant seem to mind your own.”

you narrowed your eyes at him,” and you must have been haravatat.”

he huffed in amusement and reached for his glass, the rim tips against the tilt of his lips. he didn't diffuse your assumption. “why's that?”

“because only you would be so far up our asses to know what business we were sticking into.”

there was a smile, but the tone was serious. “cute. what year?”

“final.”

“good. any longer and you might have become unbearable.”

you shot him a look of rebuke,”those same standards would imply that you got kicked out.”

“aw, its adorable that you think we’re held at the same degree,” he said. “i’m afraid i simply out grew their expectations.”

you scoffed. he was so stupidly cocky. “uh huh.” you prepared to turn away when he chirped back, amusement bleeding into the heart of his motive.

“done biting already? didn’t think you would bend to authority so quickly. but i suppose akademiya students know when to fall in line.”

you shot him a chiding look. he came across as tall but the way his torso seemed to stretch even seated. it would have been impressive enough without the additional bulk that added an unfair amount of definition to his clothing—attire that had speckles of familiarity in both its design and colour scheme.

“you work for the akedmiya.”

he watches you silently. allowing you to work through the calculations. he obviously wasn't a teacher, you would have at the very least heard of him by now especially since he was confirmed haravatat. he had maybe a year or two on you, just enough to be an established graduate.

looking back now, he did look a bit distinguished. the fine details of his clothing hinted equally at quality and prestige. though the material was tighter to form than usual robes, but you would admit it had it's own unique sense of flair. still it didn't give the full answer you were looking for.

“that’s all you can differ? disappointing.”

“if i’m so unsatisfying, why bother holding a conversation?”

he gives you a look over and you realise you weren't the only one noticing a few things. he was just more subtle.

“with your mouth closed, you’re mildly appealing.”

you could barely resist the roll of your eyes. “funny, most men would say they might prefer it wide open.”

“you must have a lot of soulmates with that kind of confidence.”

this time the effort was for naught as you turn away.

“oh, sore topic?”

his voice carried despite the action, a touch more smug.

“well i’m assuming your odds of not finding your true partner are promising enough.”

surprised into reacting, you twist your body in his direction. it was an odd choice of words given the subject. it almost felt as though he were implying something.

“i have your interest then?”

the intrigued man angled his body towards you leaving you no room to misinterpret his attention. “we both agree that there is physical attraction. and though i doubt i need more points, the likelihood of us discovering the epitome of pleasure is a low possibility.” the offer is so blunt as he roves you over with calculating appreciation, but those eyes… that blue-green fire-

don’t find that arousing. he’s being a dick.

feeling a bit unsettled by your desire, you averted your eyes briefly before raising them back to his handsome face. you had never once considered yourself weak, the spirit alone strong enough to challenge the akademiya worth its weight in mora.

pure stubbornness was your greatest defence against a lot of things.

but temptation was a trial fought time and time again.

he read your resolve like an open book and finished his drink in an impressive swallow before rising to his feet. he waved down the bartender with a quick hand and then put down a few notes of mora with the other. he walked with intent, hardly harbouring an inch of reprieve in any direction. whatever he was, this was his hunting grounds and he set his sights on you.

your mouth was dry, glass still untouched as you visibly shuddered under his shadow, “i’m not some easy student-”

archon be willed, you denied yourself the privilege of running your sight down the length of his arm as it benched securely between you body and the bar. there was a smart smirk on his face that you hadn’t witnessed yet, a challenge that you’d be dragged through whether you wanted to or not. “no, you’re just spun too tight and could benefit from new lesson.”

you parted your lips to rebuttal but he silenced you with a hum. “i’m not going to play the role of some authoritative figure you desperately need. you can either come along or play games with someone else.”

a streak of heat crackled along your nerves at the rawness of his words. to be honest, he looked absolutely done with your presence but there was a primal edge of something you couldn’t place rooting him there. whatever drug him down to this bar was still devouring away at him, tightening his defences to the peak of stress.

yeah, you bet he could use a stress reliever alight.

your eyes slipped close as a low groan escaped you.

| ⚘⚘⚘ |

it had taken you an embarrassingly small amount of seconds to fork over common sense as you hastily scrambled to procure payment, only to have your attempts overrun by another careless slip of a few bills to cover much more than you had spent that night. it was no wonder he was so popular here.

he didn’t just walk like he owned the place, it certainly seemed like it as he guided you out of the door with a firm hand at the small of your back. not one pair of eyes crossed your paths and from the corner of your own you witnessed the bartender already moving to clear your spot.

a minute later, you were outside in the slight chill of the nighttime air. but where you were expecting the man to hail a car, instead urged you along the cobble-stone path.

“you live in port ortmos?”

“is that a problem?”

“i just …”

he lifted his chin slightly, “expected me to live in sumeru city? no, i stay there enough for work.”

you hum thoughtfully at the new information,“so that’s why the bartender was so familiar.”

“or maybe he just likes me.”

“or maybe he just likes your money.”

“why are you so sure that i have money?”

it takes effort not to mention the cash he’d tossed so carelessly onto the table top. there could have been one too many stuck to gether, but he had not even paused to check. instead you gesture marginally to the fine clothing stretching over the girth of his arm.

“well at least i know you're only after my body.”

“it's certainly not your personality,” you respond flatly.

“you would prefer the bigger of the two.”

you click your tongue and look away, determined not to snort at the smooth jest.

the short trip ends when he taps his key fob against the entrance of a modestly built apartment complex overlooking the port.

“anyone you need to inform of your nightly ventures?" he breaks the silence as he hits the bottom for the elevator to jerk into motion.

it occurs to you with no great pleasure that he was indeed right. you had followed the man with only the speculation that he was part of the akademiya in some capacity. at least you had confidence that he hadn't drug you to some seedy part of town and as long as the bartender didn't sell you out, there would be an evidence trail.

still you shot off a quick text to a friend, letting them know of your location in the port.

“good girl.”

you scowled to which he returned the gesture with a broad smile.

fortunately, the elevator door opened before anything more could spark. he stepped out first, leading you four doors down before unlocking it and flickering on the first light available. he waved you in with a nod of the head.

if he was a secret murderer, he was one with good tastes. from the entrance, the home opened up into a modern looking living room with panel windows hanging high above the quiet streets. to the right, an impressive kitchen held more appliances than you even knew what to do with. you assumed the final hallways led down towards the bedroom and other accessory rooms. overall, it was quality living. something to dream of after finally graduating from the akademiya. yet it still did not offer anything more of his position.

overly curious, you ask, “what is it you do again?”

he smiles, all mischief, “i’m just a feeble scholar.”

the man expects your scoff, lip curling higher as he vaguely gestures to the darkened kitchen,“i’d offer you a drink, but then i’d have to cut the night short. i don't sleep with drunks.”

you shrugged off your jacket, folding it over before lying it on the couch. “i’m not a lightweight.”

he tucked his free hand into his pocket, “but you’re in my home. house rules for guests i’m afraid.”

his shoes echo off the floors as he walked towards you, teasing closeness until you stepped back in turn. a second later, you were backed against the wall connecting the kitchen to the hall.

you swallowed hard to control the nerves flaring under your skin. it was infectious with the way his eyes travelled slowly from your eyes to your lips. he was shameless, continuing down past your collor bone to the subtle swell of your breast until the weight of his gaze dampened your breaths.

eagerly, you arched your spine,” how else do you treat your guests?”

his eyes retuned to your face,” i suppose you’ve earned that much.” he shuffled closer and trailed his thumb along your jawline, then leaned in and kissed you. his other hand came up to cradle the other side of your face as his lips tugged gently at yours before coaxing them apart.

then his tongue slips into your mouth and you whimper. its an embarrassing sound that pulls a reaction from him as he breaks the kiss.

he’d never been close enough before to take in the spicy smell of his person, an additional spritz of expense. something about it burned your nose from this proximity, like he was activating too many of your other senses to not notice. his hands were hot and heavy as they groped at your body, following the curve of your hips and testing the weight of your breast.

his tongue lapped at your neck, each action only a span of minutes already accumulating a pool at your core.

you just wanted to kiss him again but he seemed to conveniently remain out of reach. to test it, you craned your neck again only to have him counter by nipping at your ear.

“did you come to that place just to get laid, sweetness?”

you were beginning to edge away from the dry tone of his voice but he had yet to be proven innocent from the other assumptions. blood finally returned to your hands, rendering you with the ability to move as you grappled at his own body, lavishing in the not so hidden display of muscle. “did it look like it?,” you eventually responded back.

that earned you another nip, obviously not the answer he was looking for. it wasn’t a gentle one either. the sharp bite of it was still echoing through your nerves and ripping a yelp of arousal from your lips.

“i just wanted a drink.”

he bit you again.

you quickly wailed out the truth of the matter, a short sentence about your growing frustration before waiting for another reprimand but the firm pressure of lips responded instead and you sagged into the warmth of it. you dared to ask the same of him but you doubt you had enough strength behind your teeth to get him to comply.

his pace was ruthlessly, hands sliding and discarding clothing, certainly not interested in prolonging the moment.

“you’re going to miss that attitude when i’m done with you.”

the weight of his words should not have produced the reaction that it did. but god did it make you so wet. this man would probably fuck anything. and everything would let him fuck them.

you’re grappling on to his bicep, meaty muscle probably tenderised from long hours at a pricey gym. he loops one of your legs around his waist, leaving the other standing to allow more room for himself. his fingers are dry when they first touch you, though not for long as they absorb the slickness your body throws at him wantonly. a thumb tweaks your numb and your breath hitches into a pant as he curls two thick fingers into you without warning.

his face remains refined but his touch is explorative, teasing the spongy walls as he stretches them to their limitations. “unexpected debut but not a bad way to end the night.”

you wished his words would have less of an effect on you, the dichotomy of them and his touch making you out to be a blushing virgin.

and he keeps talking.

“akademiya girl, huh? bet you think you’re so smart. “

you keen lowly as he introduces a third fingering, forgoing rudimentary scissoring to just plunge them into your depths. you arch against his hold bucking with no ground to stand on. his hitches your leg higher as a reminder, threatening your barely there balance.

“look at you, all spread out for me. i said what five words to you? did they not teach you manners? a lot has changed.” he presses with the intent of stretching limitations, and you’re grateful for the debauched ministrations. science and biology taught you more than enough about anatomical proportionality.

“no resistance. you’d let me fuck you for less wouldn’t you? ” but with the way words just kept off his tongue without preamble, you were nearing certainty that he’d ride the glide of your channel without much resistance.

he works a hand up the loose material of your shirt, sending your bra into disarray as he tweaks a nipple sharply. the pain is acute, shuddering through your body like a ripple. your groan rolls into a soft hiss as he does it again, enunciating the action with words.

“i asked you a question.”

the pressure returns and your body squirms. it's enough to plunk the strings of obediency as your mouth is quick to answer.

“yes!”

his fingers rip from you, cutting the strings of your impending release and you hear the tell tale signs of a belt jingle. the material of his pants shifts, but unlike you they never leave his hips.

“fuck.” he frees himself, af the musk of him permeates the air. it’s almost intoxicating, urging you too look but you fight the urge. “i knew it. you came to that tavern looking for someone to bit that edge off.”

you don’t have to, because he’s pressing into you thick and hard and your walls flutter around him. with efficiency, he hitched your last standing leg up as well, leaving you suspended at his mercy. “good thing i came in, i bet you were getting unbearable to your little friends.”

the wall reverberates against the knocking of your body, the offbeat staccato telling any nosey neighbours all they need to know. that's if they weren’t already use to the frequency of overnight guests.

“just needed a few pumps to set you right. “

you tilt your head back and his immediate reaction is to latch back onto your neck, no doubt intending to bruise you both physically and mentally. he’s not immune to his own sounds, grunting through explications with each thrust. archons, it’s so hot, feeling the weight of him dragging over the wet hole, soon to be coined as a delicious ache before the night’s end.

it’s uncertain if he drew blood, the sticky wetness of your throat a toss up between the possibility and perspiration.

his name. you need to know his name. desperate to whine it, cry for it, tattoo it onto your tongue. you ask as much of it without realising.

-haitham.

you’re supposed to learn of it so soon but don’t disappoint the expectation following the admission.

“my name is alhaitham.” his name rolls off fluidly and you bite down to savour it before it’s gone.

your head rolls back against the wall, mouth parted for air as your eyes squeeze shut. your breast rise and fall with each hurried breath as alhaitham pins his focus on the thrum and the heat of your clit.

he’s back at your throat, nosing against the constrictions as your voice strains high and desperate.it was dominating, overwhelming, and even though you could accept that you enjoyed it, you still couldn’t understand why. domineering had it’s attractive qualities, sure, but it was arguably a delicate matter. one that took a fine tuned perspective to account for any aversions and hone in on the pointes of gratification.

and he knew.

“you looked so pretty at the bar. i’m almost grateful you were so nosy. now you look even more gorgeous. pinned against my wall like a painting.”

a shower of sparks rain down over you and cracks open the door to the flash of lights stippling the dark behind your eyes. you rock yourself forward until it becomes clear that you’re fucking yourself on his fingers until theirs both slick and resplendent with your essence.

it should be the end, the cut off of your journey but the trip feels like it's leagues long until the horizon breaks and you’re no longer anchored to the terrestrial spear but floating within the realm of celestia.

he removes his fingers slowly, excruciatingly so, and smears your release over your clit and skin. your nerves feel as delicate as your bones feel weightless.

you're fortunate that alhaitham is close enough to catch you as you all but collapse against the wall, feeling like someone—no your fate intended—removed all the bones in your body. cheek pressed against his chest, you inhale the scent of his skin while wondering if this was the exact feeling kaveh had. it was indescribable. like you were racing toward the end of days, on the verge of expiring by your own inability to call back the breath that alhaitham had stolen from your lungs. it's a dichotomy of wonder and fear as you come to terms with a terrifying realisation.

you want more.

alhaitham lets out a throaty hoarse sound when you bury your hands in his hair and tug at the thick base. he presses his lips harder against yours, determinedly set on devouring you with teeth and tongue if he can get away with it. in turn, you wrap your legs back around the already familiar notch at his hips and squeeze, drawing your front flush against his.

his erection remains hard and insistent. it’s enough to make you sigh happily against his mouth, arousal blooming above her navel at the promising orgasm it will provide.

“i want you,” you gasp between kisses, cupping his cheek with one hand while the other continues to pull at his hair.

alhaitham grunts again at the action and sneaks a hand down between you two to cup your wet mound. two fingers press up, spreading your spend and is immediately reward with another sweet hasp from your lips as he teases the sensitive nub.

archons, just the faintest touch of his fingers against you is enough to drag back the reminder of the shattering kaleidoscope until the only thing you can think of is him—alhaitham— with either his soul-binding fingers or his cock buried inside. you don't care if it's a repeat performance or something new, as long as you come.

the truth is so palpable between you but alhaitham has sense enough not to mention it. instead he dips as his arm slips under your knee to pull you into his arms. he walks you towards the darkened hallway where the door at the end opens into his bedroom.

alhaitham pulls at your clothes and you let him, sliding them down until you’re left with nothing and reaching for his. he follows you onto the bed, bracing himself over you. he lowered his head to kiss you, holding you still as he ravishes your mouth until you’re forced to break apart, breath haggard from the effort.

you blink blearily up at the broad shoulder hovering just by your nose as you resist the itch to squirm. the grip holding you down had lessened dramatically in the last few minutes, the weight of trust holding you still. a soft sigh tickles your lip as his forehead rolls against yours, light and nuzzling.

“you’ve finally lost some of that attitude. that is good. you’re doing so good,” his voice is less dry, holding warmth and reverence for compliance. your head tilts up to seek his lips again, craving the gentle touch and the taste of exhalation.the sharp edges of thoughts fade away, leaving only room to consume and receive. a reward comes in the tweak of thick fingers returning to your apex, twisted deep within you and curling for purchase. in return, you sigh into his mouth, pleased, as you rock into the affection.

“think you can return the favour? let me see what all the fuss is about?” his smile savours the flavour of saccharine, both appealing and intoxicating and you find yourself nodding in acceptance without cause. alhaitham knows he has you anyway- always had- you’d crawl for his mercy if just to have a a taste of the nirvana only he could give you.

he feels the motion of your nod, pressed so close,” i’d like to know what it’s like. feeling your open mouth, the sounds of your gasp as you choke on my cock. ”

his hand remains low, twisting within you as your own rides the length of his body. it’s a stretch, but you manage to brush against the underside of his cock, tracing the thick vein protruding against the surface. your heart thrums, seeking his praise even as his hand leaving you and his thighs shift upward until he hovers at your face.

the heat of him bobs from the movement, tapping your lip and smearing its tackiness. his hand cards through your hair, rumbling veneration as you lick it away then open your mouth to stretch around him.

alhaitham’s hand, girthy and wide, teases the nap of your neck, forming a brace without asking. the rhythm of your tongue is met with a heavy groan of approval, the volume increasing as you swallow around him. the coordination of suction is breathing is an erratic dichotomy but you managed- for him. your mouth continues to caress him as he grows, hips beginning to undulate in aid.

“you’re going to swallow it all, aren’t you, sweetness? for me?” he’s curled over you, blowing through harsh pants as he coaxes another inch down your throat. it still lacked the depth that he would have wanted, but you would still make it good for him.

tears bubble behind your eyes, though not from pain, from sacrifice as you nod once more. it’s still an impossibility to take him to the hilt, but with passion you come close. swallowing the bitter taste of him until the taste of it is tattooed on your tongue. it’s a musky bitterness, thick with salt.

his voice is but a whisper, rolling against your ears. “yes, sweetheart. make me proud.”

you splayed your hands against his thoughts, fingernails digging a little into the skin there but alhaitham could care less. in fact, you dared to say he enjoyed the pinch of pain. it most noticeably shattered his ability to prologe his release as his eyes closed and he allowed the orgasm to surge through him.

this close, it was impossible not the notice the intense ripple of sensations as his nerve endings sparked with a powerful wave that had his knees trembling above you. just when you feared he might topple, he leaned back, rolling to the side and combing a haggard hand through his hair.

then your eyes connected and the truth you’d damned up inside, burst forward, barrelling through your defences and overwhelming you.

this man. alhaitham was your soulmate. this stranger whom you’d let take you home, ravish you beyond your wildest dreams and given you an core shattering orgasm that you were still reeling from. alhaitham who had come to lean in closer than you realised, must have come to the same conclusion as his mouth sealed over yours.

the featherlight caress of your lips to his made your body yearn for something more than one-sided release, the promise of coming together as one—

a sudden feeling of panic gripped your gut as the final dreads of your euphoria dripped away. scrabbling for your bearings, you nudged at him until he had no choice but to pull away, leaving you more exposed than ever.

alhaitham’s face was flush with exertion, eyes to feverish but his face was unguarded with uncertainty.

“are you alright?”

no, you definitely were not and you wouldn't be until you got home. even then you likely wouldn't be okay. you never would be the same after tonight.

“i should go—i shouldn’t have—i just need to leave.”

your heart seized with the sudden ache as realisation weighed down on you. this was not how this was supposed to go. not at all. you pushed yourself off his bed and onto your feet, hastily scrabbling for your clothing.

alhaitham picked his movements carefully as he straightened up on the bed,” it’s fine if you need space. i know this is a lot but it’s late. you should stay the night.” he gestures out out the door,” my roommate is gone for the weekend, you should take his room.”

but you were hardly listening as you pulled your top over head and headed for the door while working your arms through the sleeves. despite his offer, you continued past the adjacent door until you neared the entrance.

alhaitham’s steps were heavy as you followed behind. his hand came to your back to steady you as you hoped from one shoe to the other until they fit snug.

“you are overwhelmed and it's too late. you're not thinking clearly. i don't want you out in the city like this.”

you turned on him before he could finish, “you don't know me. just because were—you—,” you guested widely between the both of you. “this doesn't change anything. “

reading the room, the man carefully held up his hands in surrender. it should have been a commercial sight for a man of his stature given his still nude state.

“okay, okay. just wait, please.”

it’s the agreeableness that gives you pause. its give him just enough time to round the counter of the kitchen and rummage through one of the doors. he spares the time to bring a pen to it. when he returns, its with a small card.

“i’m not asking for anything. but if you want to reach me, here. i wont seek you out. but you know where to find me.”

whether he was referring to the tavern or his home was vague. but the look in his gaze wasn’t. no matter how much he tried to hide it, it was there … the expectation.

you turned away and opened the door, clutched the cardstock in your hand as you hurried to the elevate and punched the downward key until it blinked and the doors opened. you threw yourself inside, not looking back not when the doors closed but until you were free of the building and ducking into the hailed car.

fucking kaveh, it should have never ended this way.

it had been quite a long time since you’d felt anything remotely shameful after a night in bed with someone new. with kaveh it had never been an issue as he’d wormed his way into a positon of comfort before he’d ever reached your bed.

the both of you had decided that you enjoyed the fragile lining between friendship and something more, confident that neither would seek out the unknown. he was focused on his growing list of projects to offset his student debt and you were still trying to make the most of your own expenses into your education.

it had been a simple arrangement that you had been forlorn to see it unravel. but you couldn't put stocks into blaming kaveh forever. he certainly had not led you to the bar housing your soul mate and had no ploy in getting you into their bed.

no the blame had been solely yours.

you had barely been able to look at your reflection in the mirror, finding it all the more damning to written the swollen redness of your lips and early signs of hickeys dotting your throat. there had been no point in examining the rest of your body as you slipped into the shower to wash away what you could. however the ache of his presence remained seeped into your bones even as you fell into your blankets.

there had been one too many unsuccessful attempts to silence your mind, your more reasonable half having a field day over-analyzing your choices.

eventually you'd given up on sleep altogether in favour of squinting against the glare of your phone. if you were going to be riddled by guilt, the best thing to do was to spin it into a web of evidence. for months, you had been trapped trying to craft a damning theory to challenge the damn-near will of the gods.

and in return they made you into your own attestation.

in your initial presentation, the sages had challenged your theory as one-sided, some even edging to accuse you of envy. at their age, it was difficult for you to speculate if one or any of them had found their soulmate. there was no rhyme or rhythm to discovering your fated partner.

some discovered them early, others had to wait until their last breath.

but in the city of sumeru, where the god’s will was paramount to divine expectation.

if anything the only thing worth of your envy was the free state of mondstat where the country had thrived under their archon’s guidance to seek out their own fate.

it was a plausible dream but sumeru was your home.

closing your eyes, you leaned back against the flatness of your pillow. but behind your eyelids, however, were the lingering traces of last night’s memories etched there. it began with those blue-green eyes, then the image panned out to reveal the entirety of alhaitham, broad and defined in ways built from a fantasy.

hissing out a sharp curse, your eyes snapped open to shatter the visage.

it was starting to feel like a never-ending joke. why could it not be as simple as falling in bed with an attractive man.

you’d barely typed out a sentence before you eventually gave up, signalling defeat with the snap of the device closing. rubbing your eyes, you kicked the device to the edge of the bed and sprawled back against the bed.

hopefully tomorrow would bring forth a more concise mindset.

| ⚘⚘⚘ |

you woke several hours later tangled under a sea of blankets and the lingering taste of zaytum peaches. the faint glow of sunlight coming through the window indicated that it was sometime in the afternoon. instinctively, you rolled over to reached for your phone, heart stuttering at the feeling of hard cardstock against your fingertips.

there had been no effort made to forget about what had transpired less than twelve hours ago, nor was it meant to be a rude awakening. those thoughts were better suited after a shower and something to eat.

for now you roll out of bed in pursuit of the bathroom, mint taste and burn of mouthwash would help restart your day on a better note. you considered a second shower as well. the heat and steam was always a nice balm on a clogged brain, always helping to clear your head and think.

the promise of peace lasted about as long foam forming from the slow drag of your toothbrush against your teeth. it didn't take very long at all for your mind to sink into reality; the fog dissipating somewhat as you realised with dread that this would not be something you could avoid without some confrontation.

alhaitham

the name did not come without an overhanging cloud of density. it was a weighted thing, something of a reminder but you could not figure out the source beyond the stranger you’d met at the tavern bar.

it was fairly customary name in sumeru though your tallied occurrences were low. perhaps a stray soul at the market in passing but nothing of significance. it had been an akademiya joke to place him in harvata without truly knowing, purely inspired by the natural flow of banter.

but there wasn’t an alhaitham currently part of the darshan that you knew of. to be frank, when the name alhaitham came to mind it was only accompanied by occasional whispers in the absence of a highly regarded graduate and now scr—

your brows rose with each fragment of proof as realisation dawns with nauseating clarity. the soothing shower quickly becomes a brisk wash as you will your mind to calm.

you were so stupid. so so stupid.

spitting carelessly into the sink , you stagger through your strewn clothes as you return back to your bedroom with renewed vigour. the card you had tried to forget was quickly snatched up.

alhaitham kaysani

grand scribe

he was that alhaitham. the name bringing forth sobering clarity that had evaded you while post-orgasm. you had only known him in name, never having the opportunity to meet him. he wasn’t just faculty, he was damn near a sage after his achievements and one of the youngest to get so close.

and he was your soulmate.

snarky

callous

rational

these were all phantom rumours stitched into the reality of the man you’d come to witness.

but he was also dominating

attentive

and responsible when baring you to the world and unravelling you at the seems. there could be little fault in you for not recognizing him at first given the circumstances. you had never met the man before yesterday.

now, in the safety of your own home, you can admit to yourself that deep down, twisting your perceptions, you'd be a little relieved to have found him. yes, you were scared— worried that fate might have skipped you in your doubt— but the fated milestone was reached. and he had wanted you, albeit sexually, the setting had made you desirable enough to bring you home. even after discovering the truth, he’d reached for more.

in the end, you liked it; the weightlessness of floating above yourself for a moment; the rush of endorphins that seeped into the still waters. just the memory of it all has you tingling all over, hairs rising in protest.

despite your misgivings, the reality of it was, what you’d left behind was unfinished business. there was no plausible way for you to just go about your lives without addressing what was discovered. you knew your stance on the matter, but it was equally as important to understand his so that there would be no confusion in the future.

you were both scholars, but he was more welcoming to the present evidence than you were. though given the abrupt shift in your reality, a bit of additional clarity felt like a needed kindness.

tossing the card back down, you returned to the bathroom with the first spark of determination kindling. if your thoughts were going to be set aflame, you knew who to invite to the bonfire.

| ⚘⚘⚘ |

“i thought you said you and kaveh were through?”

finding a friendship with dehya had been an unexpected but appreciative experience. sumeru city was built by and for the cultivation of scholars under the aged guidance of late archon of sumeru. the akedemiya prided itself on its accumulation of knowledge, though it had yet overcame its ostracism of the children of the desert.

it boiled down to conflicting views of the source of knowledge and whom it ultimately belonged too, but those like dehya hardly cared little of the dispute. it was old news kept relevant but elders who needed to let the new generation decide the future.

ultimately, she found interest in your defiance. shared stories among drinks and good company overwriting centuries of bad blood.

you drew the steaming cup warming your palm closer, finding solace in the simple smell of caffeine rather than the taste of it. dehya kept her inquiries limited when you had first requested her company at the portside coffee shop but now her curiosity was brimming as she scrutinized you from across the table.

“we are.”

“so this has something to do with the random quality of life text i got last night?”

the curl of her lips hinted that she already knew the answer, the slow grin widening further when you tossed her a less than impressed scowl.

“i found someone new.”

the sharp red of her freshly pained nails drummed patiently against the table top as her raised brow encouraged you to get on with it.

with a huff, you opted to just get it all out.

“i met a guy at a bar who ended up being my soulmate.”

the woman had the courtesy not to laugh outright in your face, but the quiet snicker that escaped through the side of her mouth couldn't hide her amusement.

“you know i was rooting for you. i thought if anyone could defy the odds it would be you.”

her support, while generous, was one-sided towards your benefit. dehya had her restraints when it came to the exaggerated nonsense spewed by the akademiya on the subject. but she couldn't deny it’s biological merits after discovering her other half in the form of her childhood friend and now girlfriend.

dunyarzad believed in a more muted rendition of the historic value of soul mates, a hopeless romantic that thrived on the magic of dreams. in a way you both humored the young woman, if only to be plagued with her infectious smile and outlook on life.

dehya smirked, leaning forward on her elbows. the flaky croissant you had purchased as a show of gratitude forgotten. “so you go out with a stranger and they rock your world … and now you’re in the same boat as the rest of us."

you stare at her blankly, “it’s not that simple.’’

“it is if you stick by the facts,” she answers smoothly. “so you had one good night, you’re not obligated to marry him. if anything, you're the one hung up over it. why not just leave it as that and move on?”

your body jolts with the instinct to protest, but the weighted gaze she holds over you keeps you rooted until the words seep in. you had hardly delved into the details of the night, but she was reading you like an open book.

society’s expectations weren't your reality. nor had alhaitham’s surmise given his perplexed but visible patience during your hasty escape. he had made the same discovery as you but didn’t hold you accountable for an explanation.

instead he gave you the option.

seek him out or leave it as it was.

knowing him would be an emotional burden but you had lived this long without encountering him and would eventually outlive the physical reminder.

dehya drew your attention back by the soft sound of her spoon clinking against the side of her mug.

“you’re my friend, but sometimes you scholars are all the same.”

setting the spoon aside, she leveled you with a look. “once you get a theory planted in your head, anyone outside of it is well out of reason. you all forget that the world is full of theories and opinions and there is so much more to explore if you would be more wiling to accept ones that aren't your own.”

her face softens as she reaches out to fold her palm over yours.

“you came to me for advice at least, so let me give it. everyone's soulmate situation is unique. your parents for example.” you flinch at the mention, years of memories solidifying the reason you sought out the akademiya.

dehya's fingers squeeze in reassurance as she continues. “at least hear him out. maybe their theory will compliment yours. and if not, well next time call me to a fight rather than a cup of coffee.”

the thinly veiled joke pulled a tight smile from your lips.

she was right though. as a scholar you had encouraged a new experience and were left to analyze the variables. the night had been an unexpected outcome but not a failure.

you managed to finish your coffee before dehya eventually coaxed you out of the shop, muttering about a fresh text from dunyarzad as you parted ways at the entrance.

the warmth of her encouraging hug still lingered as you plucked the contact card from its perch on your nightstand.

flipping the card, you found a neat scrawl of additional numbers, the intention clear.

with that in mind, you reached for your phone and typed out a message.

‘i’d like to talk.’

your thumbs tap against the screen idly, hoping he was awake and wouldn’t keep you waiting. it was a safe assumption that the man was a morning person when the reply was sent a few minutes later.

‘fine. would you like me to come to you?.’

you thought about alhaitham coming to your flat.

grand scribe alhaitham who was hardly as inconspicuous in sumeru city.

soulmate alhaitham who had yet to have his way with you in your bed-

the last thing you needed to think about was either of you coming.

‘no, will you be home in the evening? i can be there.’

his reply was simple.

‘4pm.’

you stared at the text with a writhing feeling in your gut. it definitely needed to happen, a talk like this was better addressed soon than later. but maybe this was too soon. there was no taking the words back now but how hard would it be to just delete them? a simple swipe and tap and they’d be gone.

you’d avoided alhaitham this long. and if you stayed away from a certain tavern you could continue to do so. he didn’t seem like a man who would put effort into something that lacked fruition.

exhaling slowly, you tossed the phone away before you made another rash decision. confronting it now would be the smart thing to do. it was the best way to keep yourself from spiralling down a path of the unknown. just because you discovered your soulmate, nothing had changed.

granted he gave you the best orgasm you’d had so far in your life, it was just that. a night of carnage that had you waking up with nothing but regret. how could anyone chase something so recklessly because they felt that the archons put their stars too close together?

yes, tackling this now would let you set the record straight. you didn't want a marriage proposal but that didn't mean— no, you wouldn't speculate or conjure up anything until you got on the same page. alhaitham seemed like a rational person, he likely didn’t believe in soulmates either. a good night in bed got the best of everyone.

for a long moment, you stood in the noon shadow of your bedroom before eventually returning to the bathroom to finish your routine. as you brushed your teeth and washed your face, you tried hard not to look too close at your reflection again.

picking back up the phone, you craft and send a quick message to kaveh.

‘hope you haven’t fallen into a coma.’

and you hoped you aren't falling into a deeper mess.

continued in part ii

#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham fanfic #alhaitham imagine #genshin impact imagine #genshin impact x reader #al haitham x reader #al haitham imagine #al haitham fanfic #the wrong draft got uploaded early so sorry for the rough first post enjoy!

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illiana-mystery · 4 months

Text

WIP Wednesday

I've recently picked up another two fics that have been in hiatus. Hopefully, they will be fully updated soon 🤞🏾 But until then, here's a sneak peek of the current chapters of Prisoner of Love and Delivery for Mr. Pembrooke.

And read all the way through for the working plots of two upcoming fics. 😉

Taglist: @ghnaim24, @emily-ella-nightshade89, @goran-dafoe, @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky, @iobsessoverfictionalmen, @goodoldcharley

---

Prisoner of Love

(Author's Note: Geiger changed his name to Sam Gilbert, which is mentioned in Chapter 1. That's why she calls him Gil, although it's also a meta joke because I can't help myself.)

You didn't see him or hear him so as soon as he grabbed you from behind, you jumped.

"Gil," you grumbled. "You scared the shit out of me."

He chuckled before moving his lips to your neck, pressing little hickeys into your tender skin.

"Well who else would be here, Shy? It's just you and me," he hummed into your ear. "How did you sleep?"

"I slept perfectly," you honestly answered. "Because I was wrapped up in the arms of my sweet lover."

He smirked.

"You know why I had to keep you here, Shy," he started while kissing your shoulder. "Because I couldn't bear the thought of us being apart or you getting hurt. But now my fears have fallen. I trust you and the world. I just hope I won't regret my decision."

"I know, honey," you moaned. "But I'm glad to have my freedom back. I promise I won't leave you. I love you, Gil. Promise."

"I love you too," he hummed, before you moved your head and kissed him. Swiftly, he deepened the kiss before you both just looked at each other again.

You could both tell that you wanted to continue with the activities of last night. And just that twinkle of lust in your eyes gave him the green light he needed.

"Seeing you so joyful and hopeful like this, Shy, is really beautiful. I would like to adore you more."

"My hopefulness is sexy to you?"

"I guess it gives you that spark, that light that I like, you know?"

"Reminds you of how bold I was when we first met?"

"Yes. You just read my mind," he flirted in your ear, before instructing you, "Stay still and press your hands to the glass."

You nodded and swiftly obeyed his command, which earned you a sensual caress around your waist. His skinny, calloused hands just felt so good on your sensitive skin, it made you want to cry.

Your fiancé's touch never made you feel like that. So it was more than strange to you. And you let him know that by your reaction to his soft strokes.

"You really were starved," he moaned into your shoulder as his fingers moved down to your waiting cunt. Your legs were closed, but soon he kicked them apart to get full access of your jewel.

"Daddy!" you cried as his digits began to move inside of you. Immediately, your body reacted by leaning closer to him although your hands remained on the glass.

Your rough breaths stained the glass like your fingerprints and you watched as it condescended near the reflection of his smirking face.

"Let go, babygirl," he instructed. "Let daddy know how good he made you feel."

---

Delivery for Mr. Pembrooke

"You're going back to Old Man Pembrooke's tonight?" Los asked, startling you. You had just come out of the employee bathroom, now dressed in another loungewear set that was yellow and decorated with chibi spaghetti and meatballs on the top.

But seeing Los again surprised you. It was your first time seeing him again since the morning. And you figured that everyone was gone since it was so quiet when you came back from your all-day shift.

"Yeah," you answered, noticeably looking around.

"Don't worry. I'm the only one still here. I had to help Renae with some minor tasks."

"Oh," you replied, opening your employee locker. That's when Los noticed the bouquet of yellow roses.

"Did he buy you those?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"It was the mystery item," you explained. "Surprised me too. He even included a sweet message. I was wearing one of them in my hair, but I put it back in the vase. Luckily when I came back from dropping off two deliveries after visiting him, no one was around so I was able to sneak these in my locker. Only you know about them."

"And I'll keep it that way. They don't need to know," he assured. "But I do wonder..."

"What?"

"I don't mean to overstep but Tasha, do you like Mr. Pembrooke? Like actually like him? I used to think you just pitied him, but it seems like there's more to it."

"Los, if I'm being honest, I've liked him from our first encounter. It was never pity. I wanted to visit him again to check on him. I like delivering his groceries. He really is sweet if you get to know him. And I know this sounds weird, but I think he's quite handsome for his age..."

Los shrugged.

"No judgment. There's plenty of older women I deliver to that I find attractive," he admitted. "And honestly, I think it's sweet that you're so kind to him. I always thought he just needed a friend too. I got mad respect for ya, Tasha."

You giggled.

"Thanks, Los. Just promise me you won't tell anyone."

"I won't, promise," he insisted, before saying, "I did learn something interesting about him, though."

"What do you mean?"

"I found an interesting documentary on ESPN Classic while scrolling through the channels yesterday," he explained. "It was called..."

"Behind Lionel Pembrooke?"

"Yeah! That's it. Wait, did you know he was an Olympic ping-pong gold medalist?"

"My dad was a fan," you started. "Didn't realize it was him until yesterday. Then again, I haven't thought about Olympic Ping-Pong in years."

"Hmm, guess you were destined to melt his cold heart then."

You laughed.

"It's nothing like that," you insisted. "We're just friends...I mean we just met."

He nodded, but also sported a smirk on his face.

"Right. Well I'll leave you to it. Don't want to keep the old man waiting," he teased. "See you tomorrow, Tasha."

"See you," you said back, hugging him before he grabbed his bag and left.

Once he was gone, you finished packing your work clothes in your bag and grabbed your flowers. You were about to turn around and leave when you were startled by Renae.

"I'll lock up," she told you. "Go on ahead. I'm sure Lionel's waiting for you."

You smiled.

"Thanks, Renae."

"You bet, rookie. Also check your text. I thought you should see your review."

You looked puzzled, but did as she said. You toggled to her message and immediately began to read.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I don't know where Grocer found Natasha Roundtree, but I'm starting to believe they found her after she fell from heaven. I've never had such wonderful service from this company until she delivered my groceries for the first time yesterday. She was so kind and compassionate, she even helped put up everything after I threw my back out. So after she left, I immediately requested that she deliver my groceries from now on. But I don't want to be selfish. I definitely want her on Tuesdays, but any other days, you should request her. And give her a good tip too. Honestly, I couldn't recommend her more.

Your eyes started to tear up as you read every line. Renae had told you how sweet his review was, but actually reading it made you feel so warm and fuzzy inside.

"He really likes you, Tasha. I've never seen that man give any other delivery driver five stars. At the most, three and he was just being nice."

"He really is sweet once you get to know him."

"I know. He wasn't always like he is," she stated. "I met him the year after he retired when I was a kid. I used to play table tennis and he was signing autographs and meeting fans at the convention center. He was so warm and inviting to everyone. It's sad to see what he's become. I don't know what turned him into the monster of his street, but I'm glad you're starting to turn him back to who he was previously."

"Wow," you moaned. "Maybe I'll learn what happened in due time. I'm not gonna force him to tell me though."

"Yeah, don't," Renae agreed. "Now get out of here. I'll see you tomorrow."

You laughed.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow."

---

Okay now onto the working plots of two upcoming fics. I've been stewing and talking over these with some close mutuals, and I think I've finally come up with something concrete for both.

One of these fics was a long time coming, the other is an ambitious crossover. But I think they'll both be enjoyable.

Let's start with the one that was a long time coming...

Snow Angel (Leonhard Seppala)

Two years after the tragic death of his wife, Leonhard is shocked to find a strange Yup'ik Native Woman sleeping in his bed with her two huskies, Hedy and Laika, by her side. After waking her, he learns her name is Tatiana and she broke into his home for warmth and shelter after being lost in a snowstorm. She volunteers to leave, but he lets her stay since she kind of reminds him of his wife personality wise. In return for his kindness, she helps him around his home and bonds with his huskies. And as they spend more time together, they both fall madly in love. However, their budding romance is soon disrupted by Tatiana's uncle and baby brother who come to bring her back to her home village. Since she is the de facto leader, she does go back. But will she stay in the village or will she follow her heart and return to Leonhard?

And now the ambition crossover...

Standing Ovation (John Geiger and Mike Hubble)

In a strange game of cat and mouse, Executive Director Sinclair Banks is being pursued by not one but both of her new hires at the Vancleef Arts Center. One of them is the Director of the Music Education Department (Mike) and the other is their IT/Security Guy (Geiger), handling all the security tech and the system that all of the venue uses. The two constantly flirt with her, although she always rejects their advances. But that all changes when Geiger comes up with a plan to ambush her in the theater. The two men pick a night where she's in her office late and inact their plan. First, Geiger purposely makes the power go out, which makes her panicked. Then she tries to find a light source before Mike comes up behind her and chloroforms her. He brings her to the theater and she wakes up in one of the theater chairs. She's confused and tries to leave before both men come through the only unlocked door and ambush her. They lead her to the stage, giving her the performance she had been dying for. Will she be theirs after? Or will she resist their charms after the ambush?

---

Alright, well that's all for now. I'm currently trying to get my writing schedule for this year straightened out. So hopefully I'll put out more content frequently. Wish me luck. 🤞🏾🍀

#wips #work in progress #wip #wip wednesday #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfic ideas #john geiger #speed 2 #lionel pembrooke #saving norman #leonhard seppala #togo (2019)#mike hubble #boon #alfred molina #willem dafoe

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thisismysecondrodeo · 1 year

Note

*nervous laughter* I read spanking and I read SNL devil from weekend update and ma'am I'm going to need you to combine those thoughts and elaborate for the class please and thank you 😈

AN: oops a passing suggestion in response to this ask turned into a smutfest who would have guessed (Everyone. Everyone would have guessed). Note: I don't actually know if you can watch SNL on airplane live TV so suspend your disbelief plz and thanks. Appreciate the patience and also everyone who played the WIP game it made this so fun!

Rating: Explicit

Tags: RPF, AFAB!reader, One-Shot, Smut, Porn with barely any plot, roleplay, spanking, General sexy things

Fic masterlist

You tried your damndest to make it to 30 Rock to watch Jason host SNL, but after hours of flight delays, you knew it just wasn’t going to happen. You shed a few tears in the airport bathroom, but pulled yourself together, not wanting to be a burden on his big day. You knew how excited he was to be back on that stage, and you wanted to be there to support him however you could.

You both knew that you making it in time for filming was going to be a long shot to begin with—getting away from work was a challenge and it was a long flight. When you told him you had to try anyway as you purchased a ticket, he just smiled at you.

“You can support me from anywhere, baby, it’s okay.”

“I know, I know, but look, the flight isn’t even that expensive and I’ll get there with 2 hours to spare.”

Except with all the bad weather and cancellations you’d actually be getting there an hour after wrap. You were devastated as you sent him the message.

Y/N: Long delay and bad weather. About to board flight #2. I can make it to the wrap party if I go straight from the airport, I’m sorry baby!

Jason: Hey, it’s okay! Maybe you can watch it on live TV on the flight :)

Y/N: Of course I will!

Jason: One last dress rehearsal…

The last message Jason sent came with a picture of him in his Weekend Update devil outfit and he looked…good enough to eat. Red button-down shirt, tie, vest, and cape complete with horns and a pitchfork. The expression on his face was tired but happy, his hair a little messy since it was just rehearsal and you wanted to run your fingers through it. You wanted to grab him by his dumb little devil vest and kiss him senseless. You wanted him to fuck you with the horns still on.

You shifted in the uncomfortable airport chair, already feeling the heat between your thighs, and looked over your shoulder as if someone was going to catch you looking at porn instead of a very safe-for-work picture of your boyfriend. In fact, he was wearing MORE clothes than usual and he was hotter than ever.

Y/N: Fuck me.

Y/N: I can’t believe I’m missing Weekend Update Devil live!!

Y/N: That’s my favorite character of yours because you’re so fucking sexy in that outfit

Y/N: Oh boy would I like to

Jason: REALLY?

Jason: The Devil huh? Have you been…sinning lately?

You shifted again. Based on the way this conversation was headed, this was about to be a rather sticky and uncomfortable flight for you and you could already feel that itch of arousal within you begging for your attention.

Jason: Tell you what? How about I leave the wrap party a little early…and I’ll keep the costume on

Y/N: Dost thou tempt me, Devil?

Jason sent another picture. This time the tie was gone, the shirt was unbuttoned enough to see his chest hair, and the smile on his face was downright devilish. You groaned both at the picture and at the sound of you being called to board, and it took you a minute to get settled before you could reply.

Jason: Uh oh, what are you thinking right now?

Y/N: Currently? If I would I go to hell for masturbating in the plane bathroom

You chuckled, trying to think of something sexy to keep up the roleplay. It was easier when he was in front of you, but you knew he’d always be better at it considering the whole improv thing. It took you so long that by the time you hit send, you simultaneously received another message from him.

Jason: If you do, I’ll meet you there

Jason: I do run the place after all ;)

Jason had never spanked you before. The two of you had certainly explored some things, but that was one that you hadn’t broached with him yet. You cringed knowing there was no way he saw the message before he turned his phone off. Now you had to sit through the rest of the flight with damp panties, wondering when he would see it, how he’d react, and what the hell you’d be walking into once you got to the hotel. You listened to music to kill some time and try to calm your raging arousal, and then when it was on, you thanked your lucky stars and whoever the hell created the internet that you could watch SNL live from an airplane.

Y/N: And what would my punishment be, Mr. Prince of Darkness? At least a few lashings I hope?

Jason: Turning my phone off for the show, see you after <3

And then you saw the Parent-Teacher Conference.

Jason had told you he was kissing someone in a skit, but what you were looking at felt like softcore porn. You don’t even remember any jokes, just Jason’s lightly domineering tone and the way he dragged Ego Nwodim’s body toward him on the desk. You weren’t jealous at all. You were so turned on your whole body was pulsing with it, radiating out from your clit that was begging to be touched. You didn’t even realize until the commercial break that you were biting your lip so hard you could taste blood—it was a good thing though because if you weren’t you might have audibly moaned and how embarrassing would that have been?

You texted Jason in a stream of consciousness. You knew he couldn’t answer and that was part of the fun, but also this erotic energy had to go somewhere or you might really have to take it to the bathroom.

You locked your phone when the episode ended and stared out the window as if you could will the plan to get to Jason faster with erotic thoughts alone. You don’t know when you nodded off, but you woke up at the pilot’s announcement to buckle up for landing and a text from Jason:

Y/N: The Parent Teacher Conference ruined my life. I’m going to owe the airline money for ruining this seat.

YN: You’re so hot I can’t stand it. That was porn, Jason.

Y/N: Do you want to film a sex tape? No scratch that, you’re a celebrity that’s a terrible fucking idea

Y/N: …but do you?

Y/N: I’ll write I’ve been bad anywhere you want.

Y/N: Still keep the devil outfit on though

Y/N: Fuck I need you so badly Jason

Y/N: I am, and I cannot stress this enough, unbearably horny

Jason: I will leave this wrap party the minute you land. Gonna have to teach you a thing or two about making deals with the devil.

Y/N: Yes sir.

Jason: And you better not lay a finger on yourself before we see each other.

You shivered with anticipation and didn’t think twice about being the asshole that grabbed their carry-on and rushed down the aisle before anyone else. When anyone gave you a dirty look you just murmured, "connection," and in no time you were out of the airport and hailing a cab. If you adjusted how you sat specifically so the seam of your jeans pressed against you at every bump in the road and hard stop, well that was no one’s business but your own—and not technically against the rules. You arrived at Jason’s hotel, craving his touch like your body was on fire and he was cool water. You grabbed the key he left you at the front desk and when you let yourself into the room he was already there, reclining against the headboard with a glass of whiskey in one hand, in his devil outfit as promised.

You were already so worked up that just looking at him made you clench against nothing, and when you spoke you were surprised at how breathy you sounded.

“Hi, baby.”

Jason tilted his head at you but didn’t speak, a small smirk on his face. You set your bag on a chair near the door and moved to the side of the bed to lean down and kiss him, but he gently intercepted your face with a hand just under your jaw and your mouth fell open with a gasp. So that’s how we’re playing this, you thought gleefully. This close you could see he was clearly as affected as you were, his pants tight across the crotch, and you were more than a little pleased.

“Color?” It was the first word he’d spoken and his voice had a rasp to it from the show and talking loudly at the after-party you were sure.

“Green.”

“Good girl,” his hand was still holding your face as you leaned back away from him, but you shook your head no anyway.

“No? No. That’s right. Bad girl. You’ve been a’flirtin’ with the devil, hm?”

“Yes,” you responded, a near hiss. Both of you were still fully clothed and yet you felt seconds away from tipping over into ecstasy. Jason released his hand on your face and downed the rest of his drink before standing. You didn’t step back, so the two of you ended up so close his chest brushed against your already sensitive nipples—thank god you hadn’t worn a bra—and you whimpered at the barest of sensation. Jason looked you over quietly before unbuttoning your pants and sliding his hand into your underwear with no preamble. Your knees trembled and you whined as his middle finger slid over your clit with ease and then dipped inside you with zero resistance. You were absolutely drenched, but Jason moved slowly inside of you, toying with you instead of actually trying to make you cum.

He took hold of the back of your neck, drawing you into him tightly so his arm was pinned between your bodies and he could talk directly into your ear.

“You are absolutely dripping,” he punctuated the statement by pulling his finger out of you and driving two back in, hard, so you could hear the wet sound it made and you moaned. “You touched yourself when I told you not to, didn’t you?”

“No,” you responded, your eyes closed tightly, intoxicated by the smell of his cologne and the whiskey on his breath, the slippery feeling of him slowly fucking you with his fingers.

“Lying is a sin,” he murmured against the shell of your ear, “I should know.”

He slid his fingers out of you but didn’t release his hold on your neck, just moved to circling your clit. You weren’t sure how you were still hanging on, but you were trembling with ecstasy against him.

“You said not to lay a finger,” you choked out, “I didn’t use my fingers.”

Jason’s fingers stopped moving against your clit and he pulled you away just a hair so he could look at your face. You smirked at him and there was a sharp glint in his eye as he shook his head slightly, disapprovingly. You thought he might still go back to touching you, but instead, he removed his hand entirely and stepped away. You whipped around as he moved further from you, wanting to protest. You were so close you would get on your knees and beg for release if he wanted you to, but he just crossed his arms over his chest.

“Brat,” he said with light amusement, “strip.” You looked over at him, knew he’d be watching you closely, and when you pulled off your ruined underwear you saw him lick his lips. You stood in front of him, shivering more from intensity than temperature and he appraised you, palming himself over his pants as he did.

“What could a pretty little thing like you possibly have done to get sent to a devil like me?”

You smirked at him, amazed at how he still managed to be sweet even in scenes like this, even when you were being a brat. You reached for him and he moved to block your hand but you dodged him.

“No touching,” he growled and you playfully ignored him, hooking a finger in his belt loop to hold him still before going for the red pen he always kept in his pocket.

“Oh there’s plenty of naughty, sinful things I’ve done,” you responded as you clicked open the pen and began drawing hearts on the exposed skin of Jason’s hands and neck. He was maintaining his you're in trouble demeanor but you could feel his breath hitch when you made contact with him and he never stopped your doodling. “But I think what’s more important here is what I’m going to do.” You looked at him with your sweetest expression, before taking the pen to your own forearm and writing, I’ve been bad.

Jason groaned as he read it, grabbing you tightly by the hips and turning you towards the bed. You knew from experience that he could get so overcome by the excitement of a scene that looking at your face only made him want to stop roleplaying and fuck you into the nearest mattress. Sometimes you let him. But today you wanted to see this through.

“Color,” you asked, and he sighed because he knew that you knew it was getting harder for him to stay in it.

“It’ll be green when you lie down and take your punishment,” he said low in your ear and you shuddered at the feeling of his breath on your neck.

You did as he said, expecting the bed to dip next to you with the weight of him, but when you turned your head to look he was unbuttoning his cuffs and slowly rolling up his sleeves. He caught your eye and smirked.

“You know what they say, when a man hurries, the devil smiles,” he said with a small shrug and you groaned knowing how far he could drag this out. “Now,” he said, his voice full of authority, “I think you deserve, oh, about 10 smacks for being downright terrible on the airplane, and a brat with me just now, how does that sound?”

“Yes, sir.”

“But since you’re so keen on making deals…” He trailed off and you looked at him as he approached you and swept a hand down the length of your body, squeezing your ass to draw out a moan. “If you come only from being spanked we’ll stop there.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jason brought his hand down against the left side of your bottom and you cried out at the sharp sting of it, immediately followed by the warmth of pleasure. You could feel the slickness of your pussy spreading to your inner thighs. You didn’t know if you’d ever been this wet in your life but you still weren’t sure if you could actually come like this. It hurt, god it hurt, but you liked the tingling pain of it and the way that Jason couldn’t help but rub his hands over you after each slap.

It was swat number 7 that landed just a little too low, catching your inner thigh with just enough force that the vibration went straight to your clit. Before you could say anything, you were crying out in ecstasy, your pussy spasming against nothing and your face pressed hard into the pillow. When you came back down to earth, Jason was looking at you in awe and you wiped a stray tear from your face as you tried to catch your breath, the duvet beneath you damp against your thighs as you shifted slightly.

“Color,” Jason asked, his voice thick with a mix of concern and desire.

“Green. So green,” you sighed.

“I’m yellow,” he responded and you looked at him confused. “I need to touch you. Like, I NEED it. I need to love on you. I need…,” he palmed himself again and he was rambling slightly but you understood. He needed to touch you as himself. He needed to be boyfriend Jason making you feel good. The scene was incredibly fun and you could absolutely revisit it, but you certainly wouldn’t deny him that.

“Yes, baby, yes you can touch me,” you responded affectionately and he wasted no time stepping closer to the bed again and spreading your legs apart, sliding two fingers inside of you as you remained on your stomach, kissing the red marks he had left on you as he did.

“Jesus fuck you’re so wet, you feel so fucking good, god I missed you.” Every word of praise drew a high-pitched whimper out of you as he drove his fingers in and out. All you could hear was his voice and the lewd smack of him fucking into you as he added a third finger and curled them against your inner walls.

You snapped into your release with a wail of, "fuck, Jason" and he bit down on your thigh, which only heightened your peak. He slid his long, lithe fingers out of you as you caught your breath and he finally started undressing himself, losing the tie and vest first before working on his shirt buttons. You came out of your orgasm-induced haze enough to sit up and help with the pants, kissing across the soft expanse of his belly as you did. You had just freed him from the confines of his boxer briefs when you caught him reaching up to remove the horns from his head.

“Wait,” you said with a sly expression. “Leave them on. Please.”

He laughed and obliged, dropping his hands to his sides and you rewarded him with a long lick up the underside of his leaking cock. His sharp intake of breath and the way he twitched in your hand made you want to do it again, but you knew after the night you both had already had, he wouldn’t last long and you had already come so hard—twice—that you felt like you only had one more in you before you tapped out. You wouldn’t prolong the main event by lowering your mouth on him and hollowing your cheeks like you really wanted to. Instead, you took his hand and tugged him over you.

You guided him towards your entrance as he braced his arms near your shoulder and couldn’t help but glide the head of him against your clit, relishing in the sparks it created low in your abdomen.

“You know the devil works hard, but I think you’re harder,” you teased, wiggling your eyebrows up at him, and he groaned both at the pressure of your hand and your terrible joke.

“You know what, just for that,” he trailed off but finished his sentence by driving into you and filling you up in one swift stroke. He held one of your legs up as he entered you and even after two orgasms the stretch of him was deliciously rewarding. He kept a steady pace to work you up again, dropping his head to your chest to suck at your hardened nipples and nip at your collarbone, the plastic horns scratching under your chin. You brought his head up for a passionate kiss, all tongue and motion and heavy breathing. He returned to toying with your nipples, alternating sucking with quick licks that matched the rhythm of his hips as he picked up his pace.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good,” you praised him, knowing how much he loved hearing you. “You’re so fucking good. I love the way you fuck me.” Each thrust made the sheets brush against your still-stinging backside which only heightened the sensations.

You held his mouth to your chest with a hand on the back of his neck not wanting him to stop the tantalizing sensation of his tongue on you. You had just enough presence of mind to get your other hand between your bodies to rub your clit, helping to put you over the edge yet again. “That’s right, Y/N. Just like that. Come for me, beautiful.” Your walls fluttered and squeezed against Jason as you cried out and he drove into you faster still, his rhythm starting to stutter. After a few more thrusts he spilled inside you, dropping his forehead damp with sweat to the crook of your neck.

You felt the heaving of his chest slow as he calmed down and you stroked your hand mindlessly through this thick brown hair, tracing his gray temples affectionately. “We are going to have to put the devil in the rotation,” he grunted into your neck and you chuckled. “You have no idea how many times I almost lost it in my pants just looking at you. I think you might actually be the devil in disguise,” you wrinkled your nose at his corny joke but it was no worse than yours had been mid-fuck so you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Come on, we need to shower and I need to hear everything I missed by not making it in time.” He rolled to your side and you sat up, swinging your legs over the side of the hotel bed and tugging him with you toward the bathroom.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up about it, you watched! And I know you watched because I saw your text message about the parent-teacher conference in front of Ego at the wrap party and I turned so red she asked if I was having an allergic reaction to something.”

You laughed, pulling him into the hot shower with you, trading lazy kisses as you washed each other.

You tucked yourself into his side back in bed, naked, sated, and sore, and he kissed your forehead and turned out the lamp. You were just drifting off when he spoke again.

“Yes, to the sex tape by the way. Terrible idea. But absolutely yes.”

#jason sudeikis #jason sudeikis fanfic #rpf #jason sudeikis rpf #smut #jason sudeikis smut #jason sudeikis x reader

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separatist-apologist · 1 year

Note

What are some of your favorite fanfics? You can only include up to 2 LB fics

I was going to wait to answer this in the morning because it's so daunting an ask. But I have to be in office tomorrow and I know I won't have the time, and then I'll forget about this. It's been a long time since anyone asked me my personal favorites.

I put some of them in yesterday's list of elucien recs, so definitely start here. I have to cross post a little, though. None of these are in order, this is actually not a ranking but the opposite of a ranking in which every one is incredible, and written by very wonderful people worth following.

playgirl, by @damedechance. I love this fic. Lucien has an only fans, Elain moderates his chat. She was the first gwynriel writer I ever read. You know I'm weird about Azriel- I don't really enjoy him, but in bookclub, her fic was being recommended CONSTANTLY and I gave it a shot thinking I'd hate it, and she made me insane. The gwynriel fic is Things You Can't Have, and I suggest reading it, too.

Latch, My Fate is Yours; Latch, My Very Soul is Yours by @labellefleur-sauvage. Elucien mummy au and so beautifully done. The author is also an VERY funny person and I recommend anything she writes (such as her 1920's Neris fic And All That Jazz) on vibes alone.

Our Bodies, Possessed By Light @iftheshoef1tz. Azris at its FINEST. If you like Azriel and Eris as a pairing, and you want something that is both achingly beautiful and well-plotted, this is it. This is the fic. Honestly, even if you don't want that, you should read it anyway. It's sexy, it's funny, it's emotional and it's poetic. I think about this fic (the cabin specifically because I'm slutty) all the time.

Crimson Clover, by @thesistersarcheron. Baby's first elriel fic, I heard the sentence "Elain covered in blood" and dropped everything I was doing to learn more. Elain is, in fact, covered in blood and Azriel is pretty insane about it. This author also has a fic bookclub is obsessed with, Viciousness & Intelligence which is Nesta x Cassian x Azriel in a poly bond and another of my personal favorites, Bejeweled in which Feyre is Night Court fae made entirely of jewels and Rhys is...well...down bad as he always is.

Embers, by @ultadverb is my favorite Morlain fic in the fandom. It's so richly written and such a good exploration of Elain and her feelings. She really does Elain such justice. I have it on VERY good authority she's also working on a little monster elucien, and right after I typed that I saw she's actually posted the first chapter, Seven Tears for the Sea, which is selkie Lucien, coastal Elain, I believe. I will be reading that for sure, just as soon as I finish this list, but everyone else should too!

I Believe the Word You're Looking for is "Friends" by @kingofsummer93. Truly Elucien 101 required reading. It's actually on the made-up syllabus I just created in my mind. If you're wanting to settle into a long fic, canon-compliant, adventure fic, THIS is it. Also, people are always asking for BOE smut, well she has so GRACIOUSLY provided it with The Intimacy of Being Understood

Remember, We're Madly In Love by @velidewrites. Have you ever seen one of those really gorgeous mood boards floating around and asked yourself, is that person also an incredibly sexy writer, too? Well I'm here to answer that question with a resounding YES. This is hunger games Feysand and if you've been thinking about reading it, stop thinking and start doing. I don't know when I became a sales person during this sharing of faves, but here we are I guess.

Vanserra Wildlife Rescue by @headcanonheadcase. In the haze that was elucien week, where everyone was creating and I was trying so hard to see all of it (and failing miserably), this fic was a gem. It's meet cute Elucien- he's a wildlife vet, she finds an injured fox. They're both on their way to a blind date (I wonder who they're meeting), and instead cancel to take care of the fox.

Can't Help It by @moodymelanist. This fic was literally why I decided to answer this anon. Nesta and Cassian are in a very toxic relationship but can't keep away from each other. I LOVE this fic, I love their dynamic and without spoiling it, there is a threesome I am still so deeply unwell about, even to this day.

Wonderland by @c-e-d-dreamer. The premise is SO GOOD. Nesta rejects the mating bond and Cassian rejects society. They reconnect later on, and the angst is SO DELICIOUS.

This list is getting really long- I could do this all day, actually. As for my top two @the-lonelybarricade favorites, which is cruel just fyi.

I'm gonna go with

You Look Like Bad News- Elain's neighbor has an annoying habit of fucking REALLY loudly next door.

And of course,

They Are The Hunters, We Are The Foxes, which is the best thing ever produced in the history of ever. Wonderland WHO? This is the shifter elucien romance we deserved, actually.

#anyway i have a huge excel doc and maybe one day ill share it and you can see all my faves compiled in one place #this is certainly a good start #did i include all my pals? yes because i am collecting all the sexy fandom writers and making them love me actually #fic recs #acotar fanfiction

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rmd-writes · 7 months

Text

weekend wip game (I stole your banner Lola, soz)

Tagged by @welcometololaland @jesuisici33 💖

1. WIP List:

I don't really have any real wips currently (okay, there is one), I'm in that weird limbo where I finished my last project and am about to start another, but I guess I can do this for anything I've given a little thought to - some have an actual plot, some have a line or two or dialogue, some are just a concept

Call Me (By My Name) - a Tarlos collab with @welcometololaland this is actually the thing I'm about to start working on

SC Frozen Over 2023 fic

Tarlos gym AU series

Firstprince dog meet cute AU (aka Frida fic)

Tarlos model AU

Tarlos spy AU

Vet!TK/social worker!Carlos fwb to lovers AU

Firstprince childhood friends to exes to lovers tattoo shop AU

Lawyer AU pt 3

2. Which of your WIPs is currently the longest?

The firstprince dog meetcute is the only one that I've actually put words to

3. Which WIP do you expect will end up the longest?

Either Call Me (By My Name) because Lola and I have no control over words when we write together, or the Tarlos model AU has the potential to spiral into something lengthy

4. Which WIP is your favourite to write/the most enjoyable to write? Why?

Pass. See above re not actually working on any of them yet. But the collab is going to be super fun because it's low pressure and we just vibe

5. Which WIP do you find the most intimidating to write? Why?

The firstprince tattoo shop AU because the way I want to tell the story, it has two timelines and I want it to be non-linear. Also the Tarlos spy AU because it's so out of my wheelhouse

6. Which WIP do you experience the most self-doubt about. Why?

See above

7. Which of your WIPs will you seek out a beta/sensitivity reader for? Why?

I have almost everything that isn't just PWP beta read! I like having trusted friends in my docs, it gives me motivation to write and also I am needy and require validation while I'm writing. Beta readers make such a difference though - I can edit my own work and come up with a pretty clean copy when I don't use a beta reader - but it's always good to get fresh perspective to address any plot holes or just add that little bit extra. And also to remind me that sentences should not be 5 lines long all the time and point out when I use the same word 3 times in one paragraph 😅

8. Have any of your WIPs been struck by the curse of writer's block?

Oh it's not on the list because I don't know if I'll ever go back to it, but

9. Which WIP has your favourite OC? Tell us about them?

Lawyer AU part 3, because Brianna (Alex's PA) is an absolute queen

10. Which WIP is the sexiest?

either the gym AU (I mean, if you've read the earlier parts of the series, you'll know why) or the Tarlos spy AU or Call Me (By My Name) (the things Lola and I have ✨planned✨ 😌😌😌)

11. Which WIP is the angstiest?

Probably the firstprince tattoo shop au because it has an exes element

12. Which WIP has the best characterisation (in your humble opinion)?

13. Which WIP has the best scene setting (in your humble opinion)?

14. Which WIP have you worked the hardest on?

lol none of them yet

15. Which WIP do you have the highest expectations for? Why?

16. Do you dream about any of your WIPs?

I never remember my dreams!

17. Do any of your WIPs have particular complexities that your other fics don't?

As above, the firstprince tattoo shop au will have dual timelines and be told in a non linear way

18. Which WIP is the funniest or has the most humour?

Call Me (By My Name) because it's Lola and I, so expect sexy vibes with a healthy dose of chaose

19. Do any of your WIPs contain outside POVs or a deep dive on a character other than the main ship? How are you finding that process?

Lawyer AU pt 3 is going to be mostly outsider pov!

20. Tell us one thing we don't know about one or more of your WIPs.

If I manage to get my shit together and actually write some SC fic for the Frozen Over fest this year, that will make it three years in a row that I've participated in that fest 💖

Tags and questions for artists/gifmakers under the cut!

Tagging: @orchidscript @carlos-in-glasses @goodways @lightningboltreader @reasonandfaithinharmony @guardian-angle22 @herefortarlos @fitzherbertssmolder @never-blooms @liminalmemories21 @freneticfloetry @ambiguouspenny @lizzie-bennetdarcy @wandering-night19 @sherryvalli @heartstringsduet @iboatedhere @clottedcreamfudge @kiwiana-writes @cricketnationrise @sunshinestrand @stereopticons @ramonaflow @chelle-68 @hearitinthesilencesilence @leaves-of-laurelin @maxbegone and anyone else who wants to play

Questions for artists/gifmakers

1. WIP List:

2. Which WIP is your most complex?

3. Do any of your WIPs involve you using a technique/style that you haven't used before? What inspired you to try it?

4. Which WIP do you expect will take you the longest?

5. Which WIP are you finding the most enjoyable to create?

6. Do you have a favourite character to draw/stitch/paint/depict? Are they in many of your WIP projects?

7. Which WIP do you experience the most self-doubt about. Why?

8. Have any of your WIPs been struck by the curse of creator's block?

9. Do any of your WIPs contain characters outside the main ship? How are you finding creating those?

10. What emotions are you hoping to convey through your WIPs?

11. Are there any features/details you are finding challenging in your WIPs?

12. Which WIP has the most complex shading/colouring?

13. Which WIP has the most complex background?

14. Which WIP do you have the highest expectations for?

15. Do you dream about any of your WIPs?

16. Do any of your WIPs have particular complexities that your other art doesn't?

17. Are any of your WIPs commissions?

18. Do you have a character that is more difficult to draw/stitch/paint/depict? Are they in many of your WIP projects?

19. Tell us one thing we don't know about one or more of your WIPs.

#tag game #weekend wip game

24 notes · View notes

joonieskinks · 2 years

Text

“red velvet” knj - m

- pairing: sugardaddy!namjoon x jealous sugarbaby!reader | smut + angst | 6.6k

- summary: when a handsome stranger approaches you at a bar and offers you the world and more - will you take the arrangement as it is? or discover something more?

- content warnings: sugar daddy plot, daddy kink, swearing, dirty talk, lots of sexual nicknames, jealousy, unprotected segs, namjoon eats you out

- a/n: tada! here is my first official fic on this account! I tried to write just a little but ended up writing so much more. I hope its a hit! thanks for the support! <3

<-- back to masterlist

one year ago

You probably shouldn’t be in here, it’s not really your scene after all. Not to mention the friends that you came with have abandoned you for one night stands. They said they wanted to cheer you up and take you out drinking, but you knew better. No one wants to party with the sad friend, drinking to try and forget she just lost the down payment for her dream bakery.

You decided to prop yourself up at the bar instead, have one more drink then peel out. Yeah, you decided, this bar really wasn’t for you.

You raised your hand and summoned the bartender over, but before you could get a word out, a man slipped into the seat beside you and ordered for you.

“A rum and Coke for the beautiful lady, please.” The man smiled at the bartender. “And one for me too, thank you.”

That’s when you first laid your eyes on him. The mysterious, incredibly handsome and polite stranger that would one day consume your every thought.

“I noticed you were favouring those tonight, thought you might like another one.” The stranger smiled to you now, extending his hand for you to take. “Did I get that right, love?”

You hesitantly went to shake it, not out of fear or uncomfortableness, but out of intimidation. This guy in a well fitted suit was gorgeous, and he was hitting on you. Not only that, but he knew what you’ve been drinking tonight. So he's been watching you…

“Oh- yes, actually. Thank you.” You gushed, barely able to meet his gaze. Your hands met, his were soft, warm. You imagine for a second what they might feel like around your neck, on your hips. His long fingers inside you- but his soft voice pulled you from your trance.

“Kim Namjoon, and you are?”

“Y/N Y/LN.” You said as the drinks were set in front of you. Namjoon tipped the man heavily and turned his attention back to you for a cheers. He looked at you, pleased.

“To us, Y/N, and to the start of what I hope is a long partnership.” He raised his glass to you with a wink before downing it. You followed with a sceptical look on your face. He merely chuckled at the sight. God, he had a beautiful laugh.

“I’m hoping you’ll agree anyway. The decision is entirely up to you.” He smacked his wet lips together, adjusting his tie and then leaned in close to you. You could smell his sweet breath from the drink, his plump lips close enough to taste. He was a girls perfect sex dream come to life, now standing in front of you wrapped up in a sexy suit like a present.

And he wanted you.

You just met this man, but you knew already you would let him do anything he wanted to you if he only asked.

You shivered at the thought, attempting to ease the friction between your legs.

“Darling, by the way you’re clenching your thighs together, I have a feeling you’ll say yes.” Namjoon flirted, and you felt his words go straight to your core. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment.

“Wha-what exactly did you have in mind?” You asked.

“Well, let me tell you, kitten.”

present day

Never would you have guessed that a year later after what was supposed to be a crappy night out at the bar, turned out to be a life changing moment. Not only did Namjoon “sponsor” you to get your dream bakery in your dream location, but he also provided an apartment nearby. One where you two could conduct your… business in private. You lived there full time and when he wanted to come by, or rather when he needed to, he would know where to find you.

This little arrangement that you two came to not only gave you your career, but it also gifted you time with the man you’ve come to love.

Although this was supposed to be strictly an exchange, where Namjoon would give you money and gifts in exchange for mind blowing sex, it wasn’t like that for you. Ever since you laid eyes on him and he offered you that arrangement, where he flirted with you, made you feel special and gave you the best orgasms of your life… you knew from that first night you could fall in love with him.

And so overtime you did.

When he would hold you close, kiss you like he meant it, praise your body and fuck you into oblivion. You fell in love with how Namjoon touched you at first, but then also how he would open up to you in bed at night, cuddle and fall asleep with you. He would even make breakfasts before he left in the morning with you and go visit you at your bakery. Namjoon would even stick around to make cupcakes before fucking you on the table full of sugar and flour.

It all means so much to you. Namjoon means so much to you. But at the end of the day, it’s an arrangement, despite it feeling like you two are a real couple sometimes. You doubt he thinks about this the same way you do. He has other sugar babies to occupy his time with undoubtedly. That’s why you only see him once every two weeks or so now.

It broke your heart, but when he did come over, you liked to pretend he loved you too. Perhaps that was enough for now. Perhaps that’s all it ever could be.

You rolled out of bed early this morning, groaning at the sight of 6:00AM on your alarm clock. No one was around to help with the bakery today, so you were stuck opening and closing, including staying overtime at night to prepare ingredients for the next day.

By the time the bakery had closed, you were covered in sugar and flour yet still had more work to do. You tossed your hair back in a messy bun, put on your favourite playlist and began creating a fresh batch of your signature cupcakes, red velvet.

You had just started mixing a new bowl of the scarlet icing when a knock at the window startled you. Namjoon saw you jump and laughed at you behind the glass. You just rolled your eyes and came running over to let him in.

You knew exactly what this meant. Namjoon had plans tonight for you two and it was about to get messy.

“Hey, I thought you were busy at work?” You asked as his body slipped past you into the doorway. He smelled good, just like teakwood and evergreen. A smell you could never erase from your memory.

“Well,” he shrugged, going to pull on a clean apron, “I happened to have some time tonight to see my baby girl. I thought I would come help.” Namjoon smiled innocently, but you knew better. You wanted it this way all the same and you wanted it now.

“I see.” You acknowledge. Moving back to your station with the icing, putting a finger into the bowl. “Well, what do you think of this?” You move towards him as his arms are behind his back tying a bow. Before Namjoon could do anything, you’re sliding your finger slowly across his lips. You watch your finger move across his mouth and he opens his lips slightly to taste your creation. Your eyes never waver from his lips, too mesmerized with the sight. Namjoon looks down at you, his eyes go dark and it's like a switch goes off in his brain.

“You want to do this now, baby girl?” He asks, tone demanding. You hesitantly look up into his intense eyes, of course you wanted this, but you also wanted to tease.

“Well, it was going to lead to it anyway. The sooner the better in my opinion.” You flirt. It’s been so long since you had him, you can hardly resist him now that he’s in front of you again.

So you do something you know will get you punished.

But you simply can’t resist. You need him.

You take his cheeks into your hands and lick off the remaining icing on his lips, earning a groan from Namjoon. Instantly, his hands lock onto your hips, backing you up against the counter. You’re trapped so close to his warm body again, and the anticipation of what is about to come makes your knees weak.

“God. You’re going to be the death of me.” He places his forehead to yours, tilting your chin up to ghost his lips over yours. “I’ve missed you.”

“Please kiss me, daddy.” You beg. Namjoon chuckles at your desperation.

“Daddy’s sorry he’s been gone for so long. I’ll take care of you, I promise.” He mutters against your lips before kissing you. The taste of him and the red velvet dance along your tongue. His hands find their way into your hair, keeping you close to him. You bring your arms to his back, clawing at his apron to try and get it off.

“But first,” He beings, breaking the kiss and slipping the apron off completely. “You’ve been a flirt teasing Daddy like that. Where did that come from, kitten?” Namjoon inquires, dragging the icing bowl over to where the two of you stand.

“I-” you sheepishly start. “I’ve missed you, Daddy. I couldn’t take it anymore.” You admit, thighs clenching at his nickname for you.

“I’ve missed you too, but I still expect you to behave, baby.” He brings his face close to yours again, you think he might finally get on with things.

“Daddy, I-“ Then Namjoon brings his icing covered fingertips over your mouth. He smears it across your lips, shutting you up and dipping his fingers into your mouth for you to suck. You oblige, tasting the sweet treat. Damn, you really are an excellent baker. He groans and bites his bottom lip at the sight.

“I really can’t resist you, Y/N.” Namjoon hums as he brings his mouth back to yours. You freeze, but only for a moment, as you realize he’s called you by your first name. That has never happened, it hasn’t even happened by accident once. Only when you first met. But you admit, it feels good to hear your name roll off his tongue. You two almost seem like a normal couple this time.

You go to wrap your arms around him again, but he moves his way down your body too quickly. He begins with that spot behind your ear that makes you see static, kissing down your neck, collarbones, breasts, stomach…

Until he finally reaches your clothed core, where his muscular arms pick you up and place you onto the counter. You land harder than you expect, bouncing on the table causing you to fall backwards against the cool surface. You move to get up, but Namjoon stops you. He places himself between your legs, kneeling on the ground, with one arm gently pushing on your stomach.

“Stay. Just like this, baby girl. I want you spread out for me.” His words make your body writhe underneath him, the anticipation killing you. You can’t help but moan as he dominates your body.

Namjoon then kisses down your bare legs as he strips you of your pants, shoes and underwear until you are entirely exposed to him.

“You look so good, just for me, baby.” Namjoon purrs as he places your legs over his broad shoulders. He starts with kissing your naval, working his way down ever so slowly. He knows you like it teasingly slow, it really gets you going. Before he even begins, he likes to watch you beg for him to finish you off.

“Daddy, p-please.” You shiver as he makes his way down to your clit, warm breath hovering just above.

“I got you.” He whispers, placing a light kiss directly onto the bundle of nerves. Your legs jolt at the sensation, bouncing on his shoulders but he presses on unaffected. Namjoon licks a stripe up your core, soaking you even more.

“Baby, you taste so good. I’ve missed this pretty pussy, and all for me?” He moans into you, tongue dancing back up to your clit. You grip the edges of the table to center yourself, knuckles turning white already.

He continues to ravage you, sucking on your bud and setting a tempo that has you seeing stars. You grow wetter, allowing your lover to enter two of his long fingers inside you. You instantly feel fuller as he curls them up inside you, hitting that one spot he knows makes you moan. And so you do, filling the cake shop with your sighs of ecstasy.

“Is my baby girl gonna cum for me?” Namjoon’s voice hums against your body, the vibrations only adding to the pleasure.

“Y-yes! I’m g-getting close!”

“Be a good girl and cum for daddy, baby.” He purrs, picking up his pace but never letting the pressure ease off your bud. This has you spiraling and you quickly reach your end as his fingers, his mouth, his tongue, everything sends you overboard.

“Namjoon!” You call out his name and you finally reach your peak. Something you’ve never said out loud to him before, but you don’t even think twice about it in the heat of the moment.

He continues to ride out your high as you come down, getting you to squirm underneath him from the overstimuation, just as he likes it. He laughs and he kisses your thighs before coming up to meet your mouth. He kisses you and positions himself between your aching legs.

“Hmmm, and here I thought you wanted to punish me, not reward me, hmm?” You laugh, kissing his lips again. You taste yourself, the icing, him. It’s all too much, yet you still want more of him.

“Like I said, I can’t resist you.” He smiles, kissing you back.

Namjoon brings his hands down to your waist and pulls you closer to him. Your bodies clash and fingers quickly roam to unclasp buttons and unzip zippers and then-

And then his cellphone rings.

“Shit, give me a second, baby.” Namjoon pulls away from you, reaching into his back pocket to take the call. He turns away from you as he answers, and you can already tell from his body language that the moment is over. You feel kind of embarrassed sitting half naked on your baking countertops all of a sudden.

Is it for work? Is it another one of his women? Why else would they be calling so late?

“Okay, I understand. I’ll be right over.” He says into the phone.

You cross your legs and sit up right, trying to make yourself look a bit more presentable. You don’t know why, but you feel embarrassed under his gaze. Maybe it’s because you knew he was leaving you and you had wanted to bear everything to him tonight. You couldn’t meet Namjoon’s eyes, mind overworking. You wish he would stay and choose you.

“I’m sorry, baby girl. Work needs my help.” He sighed, fixing up his tie and slicking back his hair.

“This late?” You ask suspiciously, sliding your clothes back on.

“I’m afraid so,” Namjoon sighs, you catch him glancing at your exposed skin before you pull up your pants. “I’ll make it up to you. Soon, okay?” He walks over to you, pulls your head into his hands and kisses your forehead.

Your heart does somersaults at the gesture. He either really wanted you to feel better about all this or he was just really good at playing this game. You could never decide. You and your doubtfulness…

“Okay,” you softly agree. Watching him walk out of the bakery doors, leaving you behind.

And just like that, he was gone again.

It hurt to see him leave every single time, no matter how much time passed. You knew you shouldn’t be feeling like this. You were there for one purpose and one purpose only, but still you wanted to believe something more could come of this. He was special to you, why would it be so impossible to imagine that you meant something to him too? Or did you scare him off?

You close your eyes and huff. Enough work for tonight, you needed a drink.

You close up the shop, deciding to leave the mess as it is, that’s another problem for another day. For now, you just needed to get out of there and not think about him. Not think about complicated, working Namjoon or him with other sugar baby women. You needed a night to look after you, to feel good, so you call up some of your closest friends and they immediately agree. Although they decide on that stupid bar where you first met Namjoon, you agree to put the thought out of your mind and try to have a good time nonetheless.

Yeah. Well. That didn’t last long.

After putting on some makeup and an outfit that made you feel like the sexiest woman in the place, you and your friends began ordering drinks and dancing to the music. And you felt good, perhaps it was the alcohol, perhaps it was the afterglow of sex with Namjoon, but you felt confident. After all, you had a successful business, you were accomplishing your dream and you were in love. Although it wasn’t so simple with him, you can honestly say you were.

He made you happy. And even if all else failed, he would be enough for you. But you wonder, could he honestly say the same? No. Not tonight.

Tonight you were celebrating you in this stupid bar, celebrating everything you’ve accomplished in the last year and having a good time with your friends. That’s all you wanted for the night.

After a handful of drinks, you feel your buzz coming on and you take to the dance floor. The lights hit just right, you can feel the bass pumping in your chest and your favourite song comes on. This felt like your moment, and you were relishing in it. Until you saw him.

With her.

What?

Your mind goes blank and you take in the sight. The woman had her arms wrapped around Namjoon, her back to you. She was in a short dress, highlighting her curves, a quality that he always complimented you on when you would dress up for him. She's whispering in his ear, kissing the shell and making her way down to his throat. And he’s just taking it.

You felt like you were going to throw up. This was your worst fear come to life, watching the man you love pull the same moves he did on you on another woman. She’s probably the other one he sees. Maybe even only one of the other ones he sees. But what makes it worse, he had just finished seeing you, kissing you and going down on you an hour ago.

Not only that, but he told you he has business to finish. You thought he meant for work, not… this. And here he is, in the exact same bar of all the places. You felt like an idiot.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Your friend asks, noticing the tears in your eyes and your frozen frame. But you can’t move, you’re watching the love of your life smile, touch and entertain this other woman. He’s probably going to go home with her. Will he make her dreams come true like he did for you? Was he tired of you?

What happens now?

You had never really known if he had other women, you only suspected, but having it confirmed right in front of you was like a knife to the heart.

Just as the first tears began to run down your cheeks, he looks up and around. Namjoon then sees you frozen, staring at him and crying. He goes to pull down the other woman’s arms from his neck slowly, never breaking eye contact with you, almost like he was ashamed he got caught.

You can only hear the loud music, but you see him mouth your name. As you see him start to make his way over to you with hickies on his neck that you didn’t make, you bolt. You couldn’t stand to hear some bullshit excuse from him. You were hurt and you needed to be alone.

You didn’t get very far out of the bar when Namjoon caught up to you, grabbing your arm.

“Y/N, wait. Let me explain, it’s not what you think.”

There. There’s your name again.

“Don’t.” You hold your hand up, shoving yourself out of his grip. You wipe the tears from your cheeks, unable to meet his eyes.

“You’re allowed to do whatever you want, right? You can fuck whoever you want, I don’t have any power over that.”

“Y/N, please-“

Again.

“No. It’s fine. I don’t even know why I’m crying.” You laugh at yourself. “Do whatever and whoever you want, Namjoon. We aren’t together anyway, this is just an arrangement. It means nothing at the end of the day.” Your laugh quickly dies as you realize the weight of your words. But you can’t let him see you like this. You were drunk, sad and embarrassed. You just wanted to go home.

“Y/N, let’s go home and talk about this, okay?”

“No!” You quickly exclaim. “No. I don’t want to do that. No, give me time. Then we can go back to fucking whenever you want it from me, okay? An arrangement, a transaction. That’s it and that’s all.” You cry, walking away from him.

“I’ll talk to you later, Namjoon, if you decide you still want to fuck me that is.”

And you leave him standing on the street, alone. You can’t bring yourself to look back at him, to even see if he feels any sadness, or else you’ll come running back into his arms.

No, you needed time to detach yourself from these feelings. You needed to remember why you got into this transaction in the first place. Not for Namjoon and certainly not for love. You needed money and he offered it to you. That was it… right? That’s all it should have ever been to you. You never should have fallen in love with him.

Shit.

The tears continue to pour down your cheeks as you run home in the middle of the night. You didn’t want to think anymore, you wanted to curl up into a ball and just sleep.

However, by the time you took your makeup off, brushed your teeth and went to crawl into bed, you couldn’t do it. You just stared at the sheets, afraid that if they touched you, you would burst into tears all over again. This was the bed you would share with Namjoon, the bed where he kissed you, touched the most intimate parts of you, where you told him your deepest secrets and it was the bed where you fell in love with him.

You opted for the couch instead. Grabbing a blanket and pillow, you parked yourself there for the night. But it still didn’t stop the tears from coming.

That night, you let your heart shatter.

And you would build anew tomorrow.

You wake up to the sound of your phone buzzing nonstop, missed calls and texts from none other than Namjoon. You groan as the memories of last night come flooding back. Your eyes were swollen from all the crying, it hurt not only emotionally but now physically to look at your phone.

Missed call from Namjoonie.

(1:37AM) Namjoonie: Baby, let’s talk about this. Please answer my calls.

Missed call from Namjoonie.

(1:39AM) Namjoonie: It’s really not what it looks like, just give me an opportunity to explain myself.

Missed call from Namjoonie.

(2:05AM) Namjoonie: Please call me when you can, let’s find time to meet up. I want to do this in person, please, Y/N.

In person?

Your first thought is that of hope, that maybe he feels the same, but your doubtful nature comes creeping in all too quickly.

He wants to end this. After what you said, after how you made him feel last night, he’s decided you’re not worth it anymore. He doesn’t want you. Namjoon never did. He’s going to end this if you meet up with him.

You quickly throw yourself out of bed and jump in the shower to clear your head, fearing your already sore eyes will get worse. Once out and clean, you feel better. You gather up some courage to text him back, but you do so in a way that protects your heart… or perhaps you are just delaying the inevitable.

(10:30AM) You: Today doesn’t work for me. We’ll talk another day.

(10:30AM) Namjoonie: Thank God, I thought something happened to you, I was worried all night.

(10:36AM) You: I’m fine. Just busy, we’ll talk later.

(10:37AM) Namjoonie: Y/N, please. I want to see you, we need to talk about this.

(11:57AM) Namjoonie: Baby, please. Answer me.

(11:58AM) You: Please, stop. I can’t.

Missed call from Namjoonie.

You throw your phone down onto your bed, refusing to look at it anymore. Right now, you needed to sort through your feelings on your own, entertaining Namjoon’s texts and hearing his voice right now would be far too much for your heart to handle. So you decide to throw yourself into your work instead. You had a lot to do anyway, starting with disinfecting your bakery tabletops… You gathered everything you needed for the day and stormed out of your house.

After hours of baking, cleaning, organizing pantries to keep yourself occupied and creating your signature icing for a birthday cake, it was well into the evening again. You realized you haven’t even eaten today, you’ve been so preoccupied with ignoring your heartbroken feelings.

You finally sat down at a counter, taking your apron off and helping yourself to a cupcake you made earlier in the day. You had just perfected this delicious dark chocolate mint recipe and were so excited to try it out. Lucky for you, it turned out wonderfully. This was definitely the highlight of your day so far.

It got you thinking, maybe you can do this on your own now. Your brand was successful enough, did you really need to depend on Namjoon for his money anymore? You were more than capable of paying off your own loans, did you really need to keep this arrangement in place if it weren't for your love of Namjoon? If he decided he didn't want you anymore, what’s stopping you two from ending this? You got what you wanted, your dream career, a nice apartment, and you assume he got what he wanted too… Perhaps this really could be the end. It scared you, it made you sad to think about a future without him, but perhaps it was for the best. This arrangement couldn't last forever anyway, maybe now was the best time for it to end. You could end on good terms. You just needed to come to terms with the inevitable and swallow your feelings.

Feeling accomplished for the day, you wipe up your station, close the shop and decide to head home for a much more restful sleep.

However as soon as you close the door behind you back home, you hear jogging up the steps and banging on the door. Someone was waiting for you to come home it seems.

“Y/N, baby. I know you’re right here behind this door. Please, let me in. I need to explain.” Namjoon’s deep voice rings out.

“You don’t need to explain anything. What you do with your affairs is none of my business!” You yell through the door.

“Oh for God’s sake, Y/N. Let me in! I’m trying to confess something here.”

There it is again, that damned beacon of hope in your chest. His words give you shivers, you’ve always dreamed of him talking to you like this. Could it actually happen? Could you give yourself that much?

Or would it just result in even further disappointment?

“Hey! Stop overthinking, Y/N. I know how you are, just let me in!” He urges, breaking through to you.

Sigh. He’s right. Maybe you could be half decent and hear him out? So you unlock the door and step away for him to enter. As soon as he heard the click of the lock, Namjoon comes bounding into the room.

“Y/N.” He huffs, relieved to see you. You can admit, it’s nice to see him too. Especially when he uses your real name. Butterflies.

“What? What do you need to tell me?” You quickly harden, trying to put on a brave face but you know Namjoon can see right through you. Nonetheless, you try.

“I just want to explain to you what you saw last night. It’s not what you think.” He begins to explain, shutting the door behind him. Namjoon quickly makes himself at home here, coming to sit down on the couch your naked forms’ are all too familiar with. He notions you over.

“Then explain it to me.” You entertain, rolling your eyes and sitting across the couch from him. The tall, dimple-cheeked man proceeds to look you in the eyes and never wavers. You can tell he’s trying to convey some degree of sincerity. You almost blush.

“Listen, I got called out for work last night, I want to apologize firstly for that. I always aim to wrap up all business before I come to you, you know this. I never want us to be interrupted.” He starts, already inching his body towards yours.

“But I got called, it was an emergency and I had to go.”

“Well that’s bullshit,” you start.

“I-, w-what?” Namjoon asks, taken off guard.

“Bullshit. You were at the bar. You can’t convince me you were there for ‘work’, Namjoon. It’s devastatingly clear you were there for other reasons.” You spit, crossing your arms.

“For the last time, Y/N, it’s not what you think. I was at work!” He cries, throwing his hands up in the air.

“The bar, Namjoon, is not work!” You yell back.

“The bar IS my work! What’re you talking about?!”

“Oh.” You stop, confused. “What do you mean?” You ask quietly.

“What I mean, that bar is one of my very many businesses. I just bought it from the bitter old man who used to run it like a Western saloon. I’ve taken it upon myself to try and improve it now. I remember it clearly not being to your liking.” He tries to laugh at the memory of your first meeting, but he’s still so frustrated with the situation.

“I own the bar, I own many bars across town. Did you really not listen to me when I told you I was buying it?” Namjoon looks to you, puzzled.

“Oh.” You say again, embarrassment sinking in. “I didn’t realize it was that bar…” You rub your arms, clearly feeling like a fool.

“B-but what about the woman you were with?”

“Come on, Y/N. The drunk woman who wouldn’t leave me alone? She had overheard I owned the place and thought she could get some free liquor off me if she ‘entertained’ me.” Namjoon rolls his eyes at the thought, fingers rubbing at his forehead.

“If you had just let me explain, baby… This all could have been avoided.”

“Well, listen.” You begin, standing up and pacing around the room. “Even if that woman wasn’t one of your- you know, babies or whatever you like to call them… I shouldn’t have acted so offended. It’s none of my business if you have other ones you spend your time with.” You try to hold your own, trying not to let your voice falter at the thought.

But Namjoon just laughs.

“God. How can you be so blind, Y/N?” Namjoon continues laughing, walking over to you.

“What?” You look at him confused while he’s smiling as he approaches you. He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and cups your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze finally.

“I said, you’re so blind. Did you really not pick up on anything?” His eyebrows raise, wondering.

“What- what’re you talking about?” You insist, afraid you’re imagining things.

“Oh, Y/N. I know you’re brighter than that. You made up a whole damn business just with your work ethic. Albeit, I helped get you going, but you did all the hard work yourself. My smart girl.” He hums, swiping his fingers across your cheeks. You lean into his touch, taking the moment in.

“Namjoon…”

“We started using each other's names for one. I know you noticed that.” You bite your lip and try to refrain from smiling. He was right afterall, you did notice and you loved it every time yours leaked from his lips.

“Maybe you weren’t aware of this part, but I never had any others. Just so you know now.” His words catch you off guard, and you search his eyes for some kind of joking disguise. He smirks.

“Y/N. It was only ever you.” Namjoon starts.

“I’ll confess, maybe I enjoyed some of the jealousy the thought rose out of you, but I never had any others. It was only ever you.” Namjoon confesses, and you’re spiraling. You thought for certain he did, he was always coming and going. Plus, this is what these kinds of men do, right? Because if they didn’t that would mean…

“You’re only seeing me? Exclusively?” You ask, tears threatening to spill out from your eyes.

“Believe it or not, baby girl, you were the only one I ever wanted.”

“What? W-why?” They begin to bubble over, but Namjoon just wipes them away with his warm touches.

“Because, no one makes me feel like you do. Once I had you, once I got to know you, touch you… You make me insatiable and I find myself coming back to you everytime. No one else makes me feel like you do, Y/N. You’re all I think about, day and night.” Namjoon confesses, while you start to cry into his arms. This is all you’ve ever wanted and he’s finally given it to you.

“You know what I’m trying to say, right? My smart girl?” He hugs you close, kissing your forehead. You wrap your arms around his body, clinging to him.

“Namjoon… I never wanted you for your money.” He halts at your words, drawing you back from him so he can read your face. You sniffle, but continue.

“It was never the promise of a better life that really made me stay in this for so long. It was you, your character and your kind heart and-”

“My amazingly good sex skills, right?” He cuts you off, and you hit his arm as he laughs.

“No! Not that… Okay, some of that. But you know what I mean!” You laugh, drying your eyes and Namjoon takes you into his arms again.

“Y/N. I want to end this arrangement.” He starts and you hum in agreement.

“I want to end it too.”

“Good. We can talk about details later, but for now, you’ll know I mean it when I say that I love you then.” Namjoon confesses, stroking your hair. More tears leave your eyes as you treasure his words. You squeeze him closer to you, never have you been more full of pure joy, the embarrassment long forgotten.

“And I want to be there for you, always. Not just when you need a good pounding. I mean, I really want to be yours, Y/N. Entirely. I’m sorry it’s taken so long, I was so afraid to tell you and have you run away. But now I know. Now I know, you feel the same.”

“Namjoon,” you pull back from the hug and bring your faces close together for a kiss, but he picks you up instead. Hands around your bum, keeping you close to him. Namjoon just smiles up into your face, waiting to hear the words back.

“I love you too. I always have.” You giggle, hands touching his ever-so smiley face.

“Good. Now let me show you just how much, baby girl.” Namjoon pushes you down onto the couch, climbing on top of you, making his way back up to your mouth. He kisses you with such passion and emotion, you feel your head spin and all his touches splat with colour. This kiss feels different, now your feelings are finally confessed and it feels amazing. Not only that, but he reciprocates them. He wants you, and he can finally have you like he’s always dreamed of.

“Baby,” he speaks between kisses. “I really want to cherish this…” Kiss. “But I also…” Kiss. “Am so painfully hard for you.” Kiss. “I really need to fuck you.” Kiss. “Okay?”

You laugh into his mouth, nodding.

“Please, fuck me, daddy.” You giggle out the word, but the name still does something to Namjoon. His eyes gloss over in lust and he can barely take it anymore.

“Oh, baby. Do you know what you’ve done?” He coos, before bursting open your blouse, buttons fly everywhere.

“Namjoon!” You screech in surprise.

“I’ll buy you another one.” He murmurs before kissing your mouth again, feeling up your breasts. This time he has the courtesy to unhook your bra from behind instead of ripping it off - you figure it's because it's one of his favourites.

You’re left bare chested and Namjoon goes straight for your nipples. Kissing them and making you shiver as they harden underneath his wet touches. He groans at the sight, rubbing his throbbing hard on into the couch.

“Baby, take your pants off for me, okay?” Namjoon stands up, quickly peeling off his shirt and waiting for you to obey. However you take too long in his books and he helps yank them off your ankles. You laugh at his desperation.

“Namjoon!” You exclaim again, he always takes his time. But not this time apparently.

“Baby, I really need to be inside you.” He says while slipping his own pants and underwear off. And just like it’s the first time again, you blush at him on full display for you to ogle. He’s so tall, handsome, buff, not to mention well endowed. You really do feel like such a lucky woman, and now you get all of him. Just like you’ve always dreamed of.

“Then come here.” You beckon, waiting for Namjoon to push your thighs apart and take what he really wants. He slips his knees to the floor, fingers going to gently pull at your underwear, delicately stripping them from your legs. Once you're free of the fabric, he can’t help but moan at the sight of your dripping core exposed to him.

“So wet, just for me?” He smirks, kissing his way up your body, grinding his length against your core once his face meets yours again. You can only moan at the contact and beg for some kind of friction. You want him here and now on this couch, no time to move to the bed, no. You were much too impatient for that.

“You remember the safe word, baby girl?” Namjoon smirks down at you.

You just laugh and roll your eyes. “Of course.”

“Say it for me.” He eagerly awaits, biting his lip.

“Red velvet, daddy.” You purr.

“That’s my girl.”

- a/n: sorry for blueballing lol, im working on improving my smut writing! for my next fic, ill finish it off! but this seemed like a poetic ending anyway haha

thanks for reading!! <3

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tache-noire · 4 months

Text

20 Questions for Writers

tagged by: @dilf-in-peril HI THANK YOU

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

43!

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

84,772

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Pro wrestling, right now. AEW and probably ROH and WWE in the future.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

I'm going from #2 onwards because #1 is a collection of stories that i have since re-uploaded separately, and the original collection is now hidden and inaccessible.

Ass-Kisser (Max Caster/MJF sloppy rimming+fucking in a hallway)

A Day In The Life Of A Dog (Play-by-play of House Of Black's activities on a show day, centered around Brody)

Welcome To The Business (Christian Cage+Luchasaurus/Nick Wayne noncon)

Daddy's Boys (The Acclaimed celebrate a win by DP-ing Billy Gunn)

Give Me Your Violence (Eddie Kingston/Jon Moxley rough sex)

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to reply to every one, even if it's just "thank you!" or "I'm glad you liked it!"

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

How It Begins. I wasn't PLANNING on exploring Luchasaurus' psyche, but it happened anyway.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

A Future With You is the sappiest thing i've ever written, by far. alpha4alpha husbands.....

8. Do you get hate on fics?

A looooooong time ago on a Dio Brando/Giorno Giovanna fic. I deleted it though.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

It's almost all i write. I tried to write actual plot once, but then i lost steam.

EDIT: I JUST REALIZED I SKIPPED PART 2 OF THE QUESTION

as for what kind i write, it's pure depraved kink, usually :) I have very few limits and they are eroding every day.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I've never actually written one, but I have some ideas rattling around in my head about a Hannibal/Crimes Of The Future crossover.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

A couple, yes. I don't remember which ones, though.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope!

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

I really don't know. I love any combination of Samoa Joe, CM Punk, and MJF, and any combination of Christian Cage, Nick Wayne, and Luchasaurus. And I like Eddie Kingston/Jon Moxley.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I'd really like to finish Tokeback Mountain someday, but for now it's labeled as discontinued. Evil Uno is surprisingly hard to write, and I'm eternally torn between including his shoot insecurities about his body and some mushy "noooo youre so sexy" shit, or keeping to kayfabe and having him be comfortable.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I've gotten a couple comments mentioning characterization, so I guess I'm good at that. I think I write dialogue fairly well, too.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Anything other than pure smut, i think. I have trouble putting breathing room between actions/scenes.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Ehhhh. If it's gonna be entire sentences, I just don't do it. A couple words, maybe, but if a character's entire dialogue would have to be translated, I just keep it in english, italicize it, and leave a note that explains it. Like if I'm gonna write a fic about the Lucha Brothers and it's just them talking to each other, i'm going to write it in English, even though it should be assumed that they're speaking Spanish.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Silent Hill 2. You can still find my first fic on fanfiction.net if you really dig for it and somehow know it when you read it. My writing style changed drastically over the last 2 years though!

20. Favorite fic you've written?

I'm torn between a couple. Right at this moment I'm gonna say Reversal, because it was a weird sort of breakthrough where I didn't just write a kink I've never written before and was even a little uncomfortable with, but I took it almost as far as I possibly could, and I ended up loving it.

tagging: TAGGING MAKES ME NERVOUS BECAUSE I AUTOMATICALLY ASSUME I'M ANNOYING. IF YOU WRITE AND YOU WANNA TALK ABOUT YOUR WRITING, PLEEEAAAAAASE DO

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persephonescottage · 2 years

Text

PONY |12.

Pairing: Billy RussoxFem!Reader

Summary: Surprise bitch, I bet you thought you’ve seen the last of me.

Warning: References to sexual situations, swearing, obsessive thoughts. Although this chapter might not include it, this fic will include stalking, somnophilia, CNC (between two consenting adults), knife play, age gap, dub con, Stockholm syndrome, gaslighting and other triggers I will include as we go along, please only read if you’re 18+. If any of this warnings trigger you please don’t read.

A/N: Had a bit of a hard time writting this one, so I hope it makes sense. As always thanks for reading💖

🤍

You sip on an overpriced sugar rimmed drink while listening to Henry talk non stop. The music is almost loud enough to make him inaudible, and you’re okay with that, it’s maybe the way he keeps staring at your legs that bothers you.

You told Gianna about Blackbird because you had to, because you couldn’t hold it in anymore and because she forced it out of you after you asked to borrow a slutty dress.

The sluttier the better.

She looked at you in disbelief as you both did your makeup in her bedroom, like she was hearing the plot line of a Lifetime movie and you gave her all the details. About the day you saw him in the dumpster, about the note you left him and the ones he left back.

She smiles a little when you tell her about the champagne but she quickly corrects herself shaking her head when you talk about the lingerie set.

Out of all the people you knew, which weren’t many, you felt like Gianna would be the least understanding, she had that disapproving frown on her face as you walked her through the whole walkie talkie conversation and your stomach was in knots.

And then when you revealed you hadn’t heard from him since then she finally smiled.

“Is that why you were being a bitch the whole week? I almost smacked you a couple times.”

“So you don’t think I’m crazy?”

“No, I definitely do, I think you’ve lost it and you have a danger kink, but also I had never seen you this excited before. You’ve been in the city for two years and you’ve never even gone on a date. You work like crazy and you’re always alone.”

“It’s hard to find interesting men sometimes.” You defend yourself.

“Or maybe you were saving yourself for a psychopath.” She shrugs. “Don’t get me wrong I don’t support this, but I support you. After what happened with Barret if you want to sleep with this man and get him out of your system go for it, but keep a knife under your bed.”

“You’re the best!”

“I just want you to be happy.”

You smile and throw your hands on her neck latching onto her when you realize how lucky you are she’s your friend, and then she backs away from you and continues.

“Which is why I invited Henry to come tonight.”

“No!” You make a face and she laughs.

“Hey, I did it so you’d finally get laid but I guess if you really wanna make this Blackbird person jealous, who better than Mr. Big Check, right?”

She had a point.

“Besides, maybe you’ve finally got rid of this crazy man, and I don’t care how hot he looked in that dumpster and how sexy and low his voice is, he is still a creep.” She pointed in your direction with an eyeshadow brush. “Tonight you can see Henry in another light, outside of the library and everything.”

Or maybe Blackbird will finally cut his hands off like he promised.

You listen to your friend go on and on listing Henry’s qualities as you adjusted the tight pink glittery dress she let you wear. It was short on her and even shorter on you but the rouging made your body look incredible.

The only thing in your mind as Gianna named each and every one of Henry’s summer houses was your stalker and how he’d react. And then you realize you hadn’t felt this way since Barret and you shake the feeling quickly.

Blackbird wasn’t like your ex fiancé, you wouldn’t let him be.

So as the night went on in that loud club on the Lower East side you started to wonder if he was really gone from your life. If you would feel that rush that you felt last week when hearing his voice ever again.

Henry stayed with you all night while Gianna danced with David, a Broadway understudy actor that had been her best friend through college. You nodded and smiled all through Mr. Big Check’s stories of his life in Lyon, his friends and his last skiing trip to Aspen.

You wished you had stayed home on your only night off of the week.

How silly of you to think that getting your tits out in that dress would lure him back to you. All it had done was glue Henry’s sight to your body when the imported beers got to his head and he couldn’t be discrete anymore.

As for you, five fruity drinks after and you started to think maybe he was cute in a boyish way. Blue eyes and a shy smile framed in a strong square jaw and and blonde hair and you have no idea what he wants from you.

But he pays for your sixth drink and you’re ready to give it to him.

“Maybe you can come with me next time”

He had said casually, moving his amber bottle to clink with your glass. The club is starting to be a little too hot even for the scrap of pink fabric that you’re wearing and you can feel a drop of sweat down your back.

“Skiing? Oh no, I’m not really into sports that can be deadly. Or sports for that matter.” You dismissed the idea with a sip of your drink toying with the cherry on the rim.

“That’s okay, you could cheer for me, be my cute snow bunny.”

His voice was low and alluring and you wondered if you’re misinterpreting things or he is drunk enough to straight up flirt with you. Your mind works fast, you could take Henry home, get laid, and have an awkward time at the gala.

Or maybe it wouldn’t be awkward, maybe Gianna was right and he really did like you.

So when you felt Henry getting closer, making you aware of his body heat as if the blush on his cheeks didnt give away how drunk he was, you ask him to dance.

His hand takes yours quickly and he guides you through a sea of people jumping and moving to the beat and you try your best to let loose.

You moved against him on the dance floor, his hands start shyly on your sides and by the third song they end on your lower back.

There’s a tinge of hesitation in you, because you realize you’re letting this man take you home but you’ll most likely be thinking of someone else while you’re with him.

You’ll be thinking of black leather gloved hands squeezing your neck.

There’s a ding on your phone and you excuse yourself slightly turning your body away from Henry and try to not get blinded by your screen in the inebriated state you were on.

UNKNOWN: I love that dress on you.

UNKNOWN: Get your things and come out the back door I’m taking you home.

It can’t be this easy, you tell yourself. Just like that? You wear a short dress and get your tits out and he’s back?

Men.

You roll your eyes and put your phone back in your bra, letting Henry’s gaze follow the device all the way to your cleavage. He ghosted you for a whole week and expect you to just talk to him?

The dinging doesn’t stop and Henry looks at you puzzled but you find his glossy puppy dog eyes too cute to risk him asking what is going on and you get closer ignoring the vibrating on your chest.

There’s a side of you that’s worried. Blackbird had threatened to hurt Henry once and you weren’t sure your temper tantrum wasn’t putting him in danger.

Should you tell Henry your stalker was outside? You knew his security crew were around the corner, probably having a kebab, waiting for the boss to be over partying. Or maybe he could confront him for you all by himself?

Maybe they’d fist fight for you.

You roll your eyes at the feminism leaving your body when it came to Blackbird, this wasn’t a rom com and you were wasted.

“I’m not feeling well I want to go home.” You yell over the music and he nods. “Can you walk me outside?”

“I’ll drive you.”

“No it’s ok, I’ll take a cab.”

“It’s very late, please, I’ll be worried.”

You consider this. Going home alone, or going home with a cute French boy that looked at you like you were that last bottle of fresh water in the Sahara.

It wasn’t that tough of a choice.

There’s a third choice you’re pretending to ignore, in which you go though the back as Blackbird asked and he takes you home, but you’re not even sure it’s an option.

What did he even mean by taking you home?

Would he call a cab? Did he have a car? Would it be the air conditioning van? Would he drive with his mask on?

The ideas of him having the mask off was so tempting you almost yank your hand out of Henry’s when he starts to pull you with him to the entrance of the club and you realize the choice is made for you.

🤍

All the way from the Lower East side to Brooklyn you entertain yourself with the idea of asking Henry to go up to your apartment with you but you decide you’re too drunk and you don’t want to risk the awkwardness at work.

So as you ride over the bridge you take your phone out ignoring the look he gives you when you fish it out of your bra. There’s a couple missed calls all from the unknown number and some messages too.

UNKNOWN: We’ll talk about you grinding on Dumas later.

UNKNOWN: I said ten minutes, where are you?

UNKNOWN: Stop playing with me Pony, if you’re not out in five I’m dragging you out myself.

UNKNOWN: And if I see Frenchie looking at your tits once more I’m scooping his eyes out with a melon scoop.

You realize the last messages where of the moment you walked out with Henry and your pulse quickens thinking you could’ve run into him on the sidewalk. You bite your lip before responding the messages, you know you’re playing with fire but those tequila sunrises you had say you’re having too much fun to back down.

YOU: Who is this?

YOU: Sorry, I think you’ve got the wrong number.

You put the phone away before realizing Henry is asleep. His peaceful face make his features look even more delicate and you’re not sure if you’re sobering up or he is just to pretty for you.

Too sweet.

Too safe.

His eyes flutter open when you reach your building and you wished you hadn’t seen the uncomfortable look on his face when he sees your neighborhood. You don’t let him speak, smiling with a quick thank you and goodnight as his guard opens the door for you and you feel your phone vibrate in your hand again.

You almost run inside, taking the stairs two steps at a time and not looking back to the old town car that disappeared into John Street.

You step in front of apartment number seven and stop in your tracks, panting from the run, to admire the pastry box. The cupcake inside is pink with glitter and it displays a butterfly on top that matched the ones on your lace up heels.

He really is back.

You walk inside your home, taking the box with you as you go straight to the bedroom, your head is pounding already and you turn on the lamp on your bedside table to rummage the drawers in search of an aspirin.

The screen of your phone lights up and you try your best to focus your sight on it.

He’s calling you again.

You think for a second of Gianna’s words. Maybe if you slept with this man you could get it out of your system and you didn’t want to be obsessed with him forever, right?

Right?

You click on the green button and then the speaker sign on the screen. There’s a breathing sound on the other side and you almost laugh at the cliche.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Hello to you too, it’s totally okay that you’re calling at two in the morning, don’t apologize.” You say sarcastically.

He laughs a little and his voice is just as low and husky as it was last week and you have the best idea you’ve had in a while.

“I told you I was waiting outside for you.”

“Who do you think you are?”

You make sure you sound angry and baffled but you put the phone on the night stand and start to take the pins off your hair. Making sure the lamp light marks a shadow of your silhouette perfectly on the curtains.

You really hoped he was in the van.

“You can’t just dissapear for a week and come back forcing me to leave a party with my friends.”

The dress is next and you take your time opening the zipper in the back, standing sideways so that he could see the movements.

“I thought you died or something.”

“Where you worried about me? That’s so sweet baby.”

There’s amusement in his voice but his breathing is hitching and you’re sure he’s watching as you peel of Gianna’s dress from your body. Suddenly you wished the air conditioning in your apartment was functioning so that your nipples were a little stiffer.

“Oh fuck you. you know last week you had me intrigued. I said, whatever, give the creep a chance, and then you ghosted me? So much for being obsessed with me!”

You seem to realize you’re too drunk for this and wonder if you’re even making sense, because you sure are over sharing and you can hear his entertained tone. Or maybe is the imagery he gets when you bend down to take your panties off in front of the window that has him so serious.

“You’re drunk Pony.”

“And you’re still a coward.”

He’s silent on the line and you notice you’re completely naked in front of the window behind a curtain that’s see through enough to show the outline of your hips and the curve of your ass.

“Are you sure you want to meet?”

“In person?”

Your voice is softer now and even though you’re trying to sound severe you know you want this. You want to go outside and see him up close because the thought of his tall frame breathing heavy on top of you wouldn’t let you sleep all week.

“If that’s what you want.”

“With the mask off?”

He’s silent again and you begin to feel the common sense, or disappointment you’re not sure, kick in.

“Fucking forget it. I’m going to bed.”

“I’ll do it. I’ll meet you tonight with the mask off. All you have to do is eat the cupcake.”

You eye the pastry box, it sat on your bed like the key to this mystery and you ponder the risks. What could be the worst thing to happen? You wanted him to touch you so bad you didn’t mind if he did it while you were unconscious?

You just gave him a freaking burlesque show through the window, dammit.

This was so fucked up.

You were so fucked up.

There’s no stopping you anymore when you put on the silky robe you hung on the post of your bed frame and open the package. The cake smells like sugar and strawberries and you walk to the window again knotting the curtains together and opening the window.

The breeze comes in a touches your flushed face, it could be the alcohol or it could be the summer heat, but you put your entire head out the frame and make a display of the big bite you take of the dessert before going back inside and shutting the drapes again.

And now came the hard part.

What would you wear?

#do we even like henry?#billy russo #billy russo fanfic #billy Russo x reader #pony fic #stalker!billy #billy russo x reader

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wutheringmights · 1 year

Note

...Okay you joke about aroace Wind being horribly confused by the neck scene in Engineers journal, but not gonna lie, I'm aroace and that was literally my reaction to it. I was like "...ookay, I see why grabbing someones neck while they're unconscious is a bit much, but why is that being treated like a breaking point, nothing even happened, its just a neck." Had to be filled in by the comments section lmaooo

Huh, I guess it's time to talk about the neck scene.

First off, please note that this post is not tagged with anything fandom for a reason and I have made this post unreblog-able. This is meant for CTB people only, as you guys have the full context of the story and understand what my vision is (even if my execution is questionable).

Got it?

Ok, good.

Back in the chapter's commentary, I said I was going to talk at length about the neck thing and some of my decisions surrounding that plot point. Now is the time to do it, so let's go.

The idea behind this plot point is that I wanted Link to ruin the brotherhood in his pursuit to exert control over the engineer. I had the idea for this scene since the conception of this fic (and I will dig more into that in a moment), but I obviously did not want to risk being misinterpreted.

I tried to think of another way to destroy the brotherhood, but two significant character details severely restricted my options: a) Link could not stop "caring" about the engineer, and b) the engineer's limits for being able to call Link his brother have to be something that somehow surpasses extreme violence.

Having Link toss out the platonic relationship for a failed attempt at something more was the only way I could maintain both character details. Link gets to continue "caring" about the engineer while violating the engineer's clearly defined boundaries.

This also plays a lot into how both of them treat relationships, with Link looking to exert control over others (and himself) while the engineer is searching for relief. This conflict as been building up for many chapters now, so here was the time for it to clash, with the engineer being the decided victor.

Which takes us to why the neck? Well, I wanted some way for Link to express a non-platonic feeling without him needed to touch the bathing suit area. Touching the thigh was too sultry, but the neck was the right mixture of innocuous and creepy.

It's important to note that this is in part influence by my perspective. A while back, a friend of mine started to touch the back of my neck when he developed feelings for me, which is in part of why I view neck-touching as strangely intimate. The neck in general is just a very vulnerable spot that, when you think about it, a lot of people do not like to be touched at. I also just think vampires are hot, ergo neck-touching is kinda sexy.

I was hoping that even if people are not informed by the same experiences as I am, Link's inner musings accompanying the neck touching would help clue the reader into how they should feel about it. In retrospect, I can definitely see how readers can be kinda confused by what's so significant about it.

So, yeah. I played it a little bit dangerously here and really tempted fate in order to achieve this one plot point, especially when I really wanted to make sure that nothing happened in it that could be considered shipping.

To make it explicitly clear:

I am not shipping Warriors and Spirit

The narrative is not shipping Warriors and Spirit

Do not yell at me

"But Frankie, what did you mean that you had this idea since the beginning of this fic?"

Well, okay. Let's talk about deleted content. This is a plotline that never made it to the final product, so please do not consider this canon material the way other deleted ideas have been treated.

I talked a while ago about how even when I decided to commit to the toxic relationship angle for Link and the engineer, I had to pull back on a lot of my ideas in order to make it palatable. One of those ideas was a version of Link and the engineer's relationship that toed that no-shipping line by a lot.

Here's the basics: at the start of the story, the engineer was not going to know that he was bisexual. But after meeting Link, an objectively handsome guy around his age who seemed to care about him a lot, he had his bi-awakening. However, he really struggled with this awakening as he was already in a relationship and felt like he was betraying his Zelda. His goal was to not let anyone know about his crush and to get over it as soon as possible.

Meanwhile, Link realized early on why the engineer was both clingy and distant with him and started teasing him for it. The teasing was fairly mean as he just liked to see the engineer get flustered and frustrated without realizing that he was being toyed with. Link was going to be an expert at appearing innocuous whenever he teased the engineer to make the engineer think that it was all in his head.

But as the engineer got more comfortable in his role in the war, his crush went away and he affirmed his appreciation for Link's emotional support and the family unit he built with him by calling him his brother, which Link accepts.

That is, until Link starts cheating on Lana.

Remember that scene where Link got drunk and had to be hauled back to camp by the engineer? Originally, Link pissed the engineer off not only by telling him to cheat on Zelda, but by taking his teasing way too far by propositioning him (as a drunken joke). That's when the engineer realized that he had been toyed with for almost a year now. That would spark a fight between them.

However, the engineer would come to forgive Link, in part because Link convinced him he was actually sorry, and because the engineer did not want to disrupt the family dynamic he had built with Link.

From there, the relationship would continue as it has been in the final story. But with the added context and relationship history, Link's neck touching scene would be an even bigger "fuck you" to the engineer.

This entire subplot was based on the idea of the homoerotic nature of a soldier's bond. I wrote a thesis part about this in college, but basically wars can offer a way for men to develop close bonds with other men that could not exist in a heteronormative society.

This subplot took a very literal interpretation of it, but even then, it's obvious by the summary that even with a confirmed crush involved, this was not meant to be shipping content. This was meant to offer another look at Link's paradoxical cruelty and love.

But even I can admit that it skirts way too close to the idea of shipping. That's why I took it out of the final story. I just did not have the energy back then to argue with people about what counted as shipping.

Actually, I still do not have this energy, which begs the question as to why I would go include any form of this plot.

See here, I am an idiot.

#this is why ctb cannot reach broad appeal: i do not want to deal with the anons the neck thing could inspire #like it's very firmly not shipping and i know it's not shipping because i had to scale back on my favorite theme of the homoeroticism of wa #*wars #me rambling #lu ctb #forbidden content #i have a policy of not putting things online i am not prepared to argue an annoying anon about and this post technically violates that #but we will cross that bridge when we get there

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synthapostate · 1 year

Text

Another WIP list update

Because for some reason I think I'm capable of getting organized.

Resist Psychic Death - Possessed Newt. :(

Can't Control My Fingers - Newt makes a terrible mistake. (A comedy.) (Definitely coming up with a better title.) (Complete)

For Alien Syne - Five times Hermann Gottlieb got drunk and needed to hug the stuffing out of that infuriating little man. (Complete.)

Smut (it's not smut) - The morning after their first time. Turns out it's smut. It's not smut.

Like Cats and Dogs - Domesticity and possible pet adoption. Angst. Turns out it's smut.

The Tropes Nobody Asked For - A bodyswap AU. Comedy. Hurt/comfort.

I could be writing sweaty nerd sex like a normal person but no - Mostly a story about self-image. Angst. Fluff. There is no plot. Some kind of stream of consciousness BS. (Complete in the sense that anything can be complete given continuity of identity within linear flow of time.)

More tropes nobody asked for - A time travel AU. Drama. Comedy. (Complete)

Decontamination Shower - A lab accident makes things weird. (Still not sure where I was going with this but now everybody's naked, so.)

Fear of Flying - A deep dive into my aerospace engineering special interest, technically includes a lot of hand-holding. (This one's really taking off.) (Oh no, it's stalled.)

Heating Pad - A cat adopts Hermann.

Expectation vs. Reality - My take on their first meeting. (Complete but needs another pass to make Hermann more of a dick.) (I added a fourth chapter as an afterthought and it's the best thing I've ever written. I reread this and I cry genuine tears, WTF.)

Hermann's Ex - Newt meets Hermann's siblings and Learns Things he never knew before. (Complete but the last chapter really went off the rails.)

Thriller - The Shatterdome is kind of spooky at night.

There Was Only One Bed - We like tropes here. (This was supposed to be a trope subversion but I forgot where it was going, so I guess it's just the trope now.)

Miserable, Lonely and Depressed (Pathetic) - The return of Cool Uncle Newt. (He's not cool, he's possessed.)

Vampire AU - I mean obviously I had to write a vampire AU at some point. (Comedy.)

Whump - Was supposed to be about a car accident, but it turned into emotional hurt/comfort. With pie.

Some Days You Just Can't Get Rid of a Bomb - Newt tries to solve capitalism.

Retail Horror Stories - Newt and Hermann commiserate over the shitty jobs they worked when they were younger. (Maybe scrapped because honestly no one needs my nonfiction about MegaKaren.)

Ghost Story - Comedy, it was SUPPOSED TO BE A COMEDY Death of a major character. 50k word novella about grief APPARENTLY.

Nightmares - Ghost drift bleeds into their dreams.

Cold as Ice - Hurt/Comfort? Something. Contains no hurt/comfort and has nothing to do with cold or ice, but...it's...something.

Newt's Passion - A sex pollen fic. (No, it isn't.)

Other, Funnier Ghost Story - Will it be a comedy this time? Let's find out. It is a comedy but it's about vampires now.

Fever All Through the Night - Sick fic. All comfort.

Consent is Sexy - A team-building exercise leads to certain confessions that would not be made while sober.

Always On My Mind Some Sign to Pursue a Promise - Hermann overthinks everything. A story of missed connections. (Nearing completion.)

The Moon Turned to Gold - Newt is desperate to impress his old classmates. Good thing he has this amazing new husband to show off. (A comedy.) (Zine fic!)

Dinner With a Friend - Oh NO I DON'T WANT THIS. (Hermann accepts Newt's offer to meet Alice, and I lie awake at night trying to think of a way to get him out of it.)

Alternate PR2 - The biggest shitpost I've ever made. IT'S SO ANGSTY WHAT HAVE I DONE. (Complete, and maybe my favorite thing I've ever written. I might write a sequel. And a prequel. And do some art? Maybe write a song.)

Cold as Ice 2: Alaskan Boogaloo - Does have something to do with cold and ice.

The Worst Thing I Can Possibly Imagine - My genuine attempt to work through something, but then I thought of a punchline so now it's a funny little shitpost.

False Alarm - Their first meeting since their First Meeting.

Splash - A...feelings thing. The first tentative steps toward getting along.

Coffee Shop AU - I swore I would never write a coffee shop au, but...

Scrooge McDuck - Budgetary concerns.

Stop You Have Enough WIPs - Some silly fluff for these stressful times.

Shoes - Newt's past catches up with him. Hermann is intrigued.

Groundhog Day - Hey man, these sci fi tropes exist for a reason.

#fic #good grief this is exhausting

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quoteablebooks · 1 month

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Genre: Fiction, Adult, Paranormal, Romance

Rating: 3.5 out of 5

Content Warning: Sexual content, Blood, Kidnapping, Confinement

Summary:

Cassie Greenberg loves being an artist, but it’s a tough way to make a living. On the brink of eviction, she’s desperate when she finds a too-good-to-be-true apartment in a beautiful Chicago neighborhood. Cassie knows there has to be a catch—only someone with a secret to hide would rent out a room for that price.

Of course, her new roommate Frederick J. Fitzwilliam is far from normal. He sleeps all day, is out at night on business, and talks like he walked out of a regency romance novel. He also leaves Cassie heart-melting notes around the apartment, cares about her art, and asks about her day. And he doesn’t look half bad shirtless, on the rare occasions they’re both home and awake. But when Cassie finds bags of blood in the fridge that definitely weren’t there earlier, Frederick has to come clean...

Cassie’s sexy new roommate is a vampire. And he has a proposition for her.

*Opinions*

Tl:dr - Absolutely delightful and compulsively readable rom-com

This is another social media influence and I needed a bit of a palate cleanser after a couple of fantasy novels back to back. I then proceeded to read this entire novel in two days and had a wonderful time with it. If you want a romance with a strong plot, this is not the book for you, but if you want a story that reads like a 90s sitcom romance, complete with scenes that feel as if they should have a laugh track in the background, I would recommend this novel highly. As I said above, it was extremely delightful.

As one might guess from the title My Roommate is a Vampire, the plot of this novel revolves around Cassie Greenburg responding to a too-good-to-be-true ad for a roommate on Craig’s list and moving in with a centuries-old vampire, though she is unaware of that at the time. Part of the charm of this novel is that the reader is well aware that Fredrick is a vampire, so watching Cassie navigate his interesting personality quirks is more endearing than the reader screaming at her to see all the signs. I also appreciate that Levine also had the big vampire reveal about 35% into the novel. After that, it is a series of rather comical scenes of Cassie attempting to teach Fredrick about the 100 years of etiquette that he missed while he was asleep. Again, the plot in this is very light and it is more watching Cassie and Fredrick dance around each other while denying what they feel for one another. The ending was highly ridiculous, but somehow fit the overall tone of the novel so it didn’t bother me too badly.

Cassie is a rather relatable character in a romance, which I appreciate. She is in her late 20s, early 30s creative that is cobbling together part-time jobs in an attempt to survive while working on her art. She takes public transportation, collects trash for her multimedia art, and lets her attraction to Fredrick cloud her judgment on a couple of occasions. While her bad past with a couple of other relationships is hinted at, whatever happened in those relationships is never elaborated on in this novel. I like how her story ended, but it was a little too butterflies and rainbows that I would usually enjoy. However, this whole book was just so lovely that it was the perfect ending.

We get to know very little about Fredrick other than the text messages and journal entries that are at the beginning of the chapters. He was a bit more of a caricature than an actual character except when he is being exceptionally sincere with Cassie. He is so interested in learning about her art and praising her for things that she doesn’t see in herself that it is swoon-worthy. Now, I heard rumors that this might have started as a Reylo fic, but truly I didn’t see it in the relationship. I did not picture Adam Driver when reading Fredrick’s description other than the focus on how large his hands are, which seems to be a physical attribute that Reylo writers seem to focus on. Well, that and how large his chest was, but that can be any male love interest.

The romance between the two of them was rather sweet, though not super deep. The first time they kissed and the makeout session in the bathroom had me kicking my feet in excitement. Again, as this is a lighter romance, the discussion of immortality and its complications were glossed over. Also, there is no lore given for vampires and only a vague mention of some of the rules around them. Still, there was something charming about Cassie’s unending patience and Fredricks's earnest love of her that I couldn’t stop reading. The way that Fredrick’s need for blood and the sex scenes were handled was also done well.

Overall, this is a fun and light read that is light on plot but still a compelling read. Levine hints in the novel that there might be a companion with Reginald and his human accountant, but I am not sure I care enough about Reginald to check it out. This is a 3.5 read rounded down to a 3 because while I really enjoyed it at the moment I read it, I doubt a lot of it will stick with me and this is probably not a story I would read again. Still, I highly recommend this if you like romances and enjoy a story that doesn’t take itself too seriously.

#jenna levine #My Roomate is a Vampire #book review #booklr #3.5 out of 5 stars

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green-socks · 2 years

Text

Who You Are

Pairing: Adrian Chase/Vigilante x gn!reader

Summary: You take Adrian to a work event, but the night causes some insecurities to rise for him. You assure him that he's perfect just as he is.

Words: 1.4k

Warnings: None, really. Some insecurity and some misunderstanding I guess but nothing major.

Notes: My first time writing Adrian, eek! This is super self-indulgent, as might be obvious lol, but what is fic writing if not self-indulgence, so I just let it out. Maybe someone else can relate, and if not, hope you enjoy anyway! Thank you to @a-reader-and-a-writer and @yespolkadotkitty for looking this over and assuring me it's not crap <3 And a general thank you to @mandocrasis for the constant thotting&plotting. The spark to write this came from you.

MASTERLIST

You thought you’d seen everything when your boyfriend showed you his Vigilante costume.

You have seen him at his most dangerous, almost unrecognizable from the adorable dork he usually is. You have seen him at his most natural, stripped naked both from clothes as well as any pretenses. You know Vigilante, but you know the regular Adrian best. Better than anyone else, you dare say.

You know the Adrian with rumpled hair, in a slightly torn t-shirt and those faded sweatpants, playing games on his computer. You know the Adrian who gives you a deep analysis on his morning cereal like it’s fine wine. The Adrian who blushes endearingly when you tell him he’s doing a good job. The Adrian who will literally bend over backwards or jump over hurdles (such as the couch) to help you in any way he can.

That Adrian you know.

“Babe, are you ready to go? I know you don’t like being late so I really think we should leave now,” he says as he appears in the bathroom door frame.

This Adrian? Him you’ve never seen before.

“Oh my god, Adrian,” you gasp at a loss for any more words.

“What?” He stops in his tracks. “Oh man, is the suit wrong? Chris said the color was unusual, I should have listened, he always knows more about these things! I guess I could find another real quick somewhere, or maybe it’ll be dark there and no one will see–”

“Baby, no, you look amazing!” you rush to reassure him, still gaping at the transformation. “I’ve just never seen you in a suit before. You look like fucking Prince Charming or something!”

“Really? You think it’s okay?” The relief is clear in his voice.

“Yes! Now let’s go so we won’t be late, I’d feel bad for not getting to show you off,” you wink at him.

To be completely honest, you had been a little bit nervous about taking Adrian to this work event since this wasn’t his usual style or scene at all, afraid he wouldn’t enjoy himself. You’d even told him he doesn’t have to wear a suit, but damn he had cleaned up well. It’s clear you’re not the only one impressed by his looks tonight with the way your boyfriend is turning heads left and right. The old lady brigade of your office is giggling in increasing volume at everything he says, and you decide it's best to go save him from their claws before it’s too late. You’ve seen what they get like when there’s tequila. Even so, you take a weird satisfaction in knowing that you’re the only one who actually gets to call him pretty and watch how his legs tremble just a little bit when you do.

At one point you notice him squinting at a menu a lot, and you realize something.

“Wait, Adrian, why aren’t you wearing your glasses? You know you can’t see as well with your contacts.”

“Well, I thought I’d look more sophisticated and serious without them,” Adrian explains thoughtfully.

“Honey, no work event is worth getting a headache over, at least not like that. Besides, I think your glasses look both sexy and cute. There’s nothing wrong with them!”

“You really think so?” Adrian looks very pleased.

This is now the second time tonight Adrian has been surprised at you finding him good-looking and assuring him he’s perfect, and that makes your stomach twist painfully. Do you really not tell him that enough? Does he really worry about you not liking how he looks or how he is? It makes you feel absolutely awful to think that he has felt like that, that you haven’t been there enough for him. Maybe you should remember to be even more vocal about how much you appreciate him? Adrian does seem to appreciate hearing you praise him.

You make a vow then and there to remember to say out loud how much you adore and appreciate him, but it still puts a damper on your mood for the rest of the night. The last thing you want is to make Adrian feel less than, when he always makes you feel so good about yourself, and the guilt is making it hard to enjoy the festivities.

An hour and a half later Adrian quietly suggests you two head out, and you agree instantly. On the ride home you’re both much, much more quiet and subdued than usual, and you wonder if there’s something weighing on Adrian’s mind too. Maybe the party had been too overwhelming for him, and you hadn’t supported him enough.

When you get home, the weird silence lingers, and you don’t really know how to break it. Adrian is usually the one to lighten the air just by being.. well, himself, but again, for the second time tonight you find you’re not really familiar with this version of Adrian. He looks tired, but it’s more than that. It’s like he’s preparing for a blow even while being too tired to do anything but collapse on your couch.

You’re convinced you have done something to hurt him, and it’s eating your insides to see him like this.

“Adrian, baby, is– is everything okay? Did I do something? Was the party horrible? Does your head hurt again?”

He lifts his head and visibly tenses. “No, of course you didn’t do anything wrong, why would you think that?”

“Well you seem really quiet, and sort of.. not like yourself,” you say tentatively. “Not that you always have to be full of energy, but you kind of seem like you’re avoiding something, like maybe.. me.”

“I just didn’t wanna embarrass you,” Adrian mumbles.

“What? How–”

“At the party. I didn’t want to embarrass you by being annoying and loud and behaving badly, like I always do, because it was really important and your work is really important and you’re so smart and professional and I’m so proud of you, and so I tried to stay quiet and not annoy anyone, I really tried babe, but then you seemed a little sad and I thought you must be upset with me because I didn’t know how to act there, and I get really tired focusing on not being annoying even when I don’t always know why I’m annoying, and that’s why I’m just super tired right now, I’m sorry babe.”

Adrian explains the issue with his usual fast pace, and you try to hang on as best you can, feeling like a bucket of cold water has been poured on your head the longer he speaks.

“Adrian, honey, I am so so sorry if I have ever made you feel like I’m embarrassed by you,” you speak through the lump in your throat. “I am not embarrassed by you – in fact I am proud to be with you. I appreciate you coming with me tonight and trying to fit in like that, but you don’t have to do that. I would rather you feel comfortable than care what anyone else thinks.”

“You mean you don’t have a list of things I did wrong that you want to go over with me now?” Adrian asks, still unsure.

“No, I absolutely do not,” you assure him with conviction. “If anything, I could make a list of all the things you did right, because I really enjoy being with you baby. I don’t think you behave badly, I thought you were very polite and charming!”

You’re starting to realize that maybe you really do need to pay attention to affirming and praising him – and not just about his looks – because it hits you that what you are saying right now is the complete opposite of what Adrian has been told all his life. Even his friends tell him he’s too much, and yeah, maybe sometimes you can see that, but you’ve never felt like it or that he would need to rein himself in in some way. And you’ve certainly never been embarrassed to be his.

“I would never want you to change who you are, baby, because I love who you are,” you whisper, reaching out to cup his cheek to make sure he understands you mean it.

For once it seems Adrian is speechless, but what he can’t say in words he conveys in fierce hugs and kisses, and you have no trouble understanding he returns the three words even without him saying them. Very quickly he returns to his usual self, the exhaustion apparently all forgotten now.

----------------------------------------------

#adrian chase x reader #vigilante x reader #adrian chase x you #peacemaker fanfic #i still don't know what i'm doing #i accidentally wrote something

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anonniemousefics · 3 years

Text

Better Than Dreaming

Masterlist | Ask Box | Ko-fi

Originally posted on AO3

Fandom: Six of Crows | Kaz + Inej

Word count: 4614

****Rating: NSFW (Aged up characters)*****

Synopsis: The one where Inej has sex dreams.

Author’s Note: Y’all, I cannot stress enough how little plot is here. This is just a sexy good time with an attempt to be somewhat canon compliant, but don’t take me to court over it. This fic is not here to win awards - it’s just here to party. If it’s not your jam, don’t read it. If it *is* your jam, comments/reblogs/coffee fuel me. :)

Inej sits on his desk, heart pounding, gripping Kaz’s open shirt with white knuckles.

His dark eyes smolder with the desire he no longer tries to hide – his kisses are ravenous, all-consuming. When his hands rip open her shirt, sinew and muscle taut in his forearms, her breath comes short and high in her chest, her cheeks aflame. Saints, she needs him. His lips are at her neck – her head swims as she tilts back. His fingers dig into her thighs when she scrapes hers over his chest. Kaz is perfect in candlelight – she drinks in the shadows that play on his well-muscled shoulders. She sinks her fingers into his soft, black hair, pulls him closer. He grips her waist, fits his body between her parting legs.

He’s kissing the tops of her breasts when she slides onto her back. He’s working his way down her arching body with his lips, his fingers – she’s bare now. She’s not sure when that happened, but she doesn’t care, because now, so is he. She wraps her legs around his waist, and the sounds of his groans are delicious. A flame coils itself up her spine. His skin is hot against hers – his lips are everywhere. She needs – she needs –

He is thrusting – she is wracked with pleasure. Her mouth is slack; he’s biting his lip. His chest presses against hers, and she scrapes her nails along the muscles of his back. His hands, oh, his clever hands -- he’s undoing her, fast. More, she begs, please, Kaz, Saints, she’s close, so close –

“Inej. Inej!”

Inej gasped when her eyes flew open in the dark of The Slat – very clothed and very untouched. The realization hit her with a surprising and instant wave of regret. Every nerve in her body stood on end.

“Are you all right?” Next to her, Kaz was propped up on an elbow, looking concerned in the ghostly glow from the moon through the open window. “You were breathing funny.”

Inej drew a hand over her eyes with a sigh. She felt like she’d been running, like she needed to catch her breath.

“Another nightmare?” Kaz asked, brows drawn tight beneath his sleep-mussed hair. Inej was gripped with a fresh desire to seize it and grip it and make him finish what he started.

Which was, of course, absurd. They weren’t that type of couple. In reality, Kaz Brekker, for all his fierce and dangerous talk, was, on his best days, gentle when he managed to be affectionate, and, on his worst days, a complete basket case of nerves in the bedroom. There was no, and probably never would be, seizing or shirt-ripping or frantic love-making all over his desk.

Inej wasn’t sure she even wanted that anyway, if they ever did manage to touch each other’s skin without keeling over. She liked the way things were. She really did. She liked that they fell asleep fully clothed and tucked against each other, her body enveloped in his warm, protective embrace. She liked the soft, careful kisses he left on her cheeks. She liked the way their hands fit together – Kaz could manage that easily these days. Why her sub-conscious was being so filthy all of a sudden, she couldn’t guess.

“Inej?” Kaz was still waiting for an answer. Her heart was still pounding, and she had no reasonable explanation for it.

“Um.” She rubbed her eyes. “Something like that,” was all she found to mutter.

Kaz settled again back onto his pillow and into the silence. That could be the end of that, Inej figured – any second now, he would roll over and pull her close again and they’d fall back asleep and --

“What was it about?” he asked, unfortunately. Great. Now she needed a lie. Inej pushed her fingers into her hair, nervously.

“Um.” She was so bad at this. “You know, we don’t need to talk about it. It’s late.”

“It’s just,” Kaz glanced over his pillow at her, still looking concerned, “it almost sounded like you were trying to say my name--”

“Oh, Saints.” This could not be more embarrassing. Inej scrubbed her hands over her face.

“And I will gladly make appearances in anyone’s nightmares, saving yours,” said Kaz. “If I did something--”

“You didn’t.”

“I have never wanted to give you a reason to fear me, but if I ever did--”

“It wasn’t a nightmare!” she exclaimed, thankful for the dark and the way it would hide the blush on her cheeks. Kaz’s self-deprecation at this exact moment was a little maddening, especially given that her body still ringing from what her sub-conscious apparently desperately wanted him to do to her.

Across the pillows, Kaz now looked confused.

“It wasn’t a nightmare,” she repeated, trying to salvage her dignity. “Yes, you were in it, congratulations. I am fine. Everything is fine. Go to sleep.”

She started to roll over.

“Oh.” Perfect. Behind her, Kaz was having a revelation while staring up at the ceiling. “Oh.”

“Like I said – congratulations.”

“Was it good?”

“‘Was it’--?!” Did his ego really need stroking at half past midnight? Inej buried her burning face into her pillows. “Obviously, it was good,” was her muffled confession as she pressed the pillow over herself.

“No, this is not ‘obviously’.” Kaz poked her in the side, trying to get her to unbury her face. “I would have thought you didn’t have good dreams of that nature, given everything that happened--”

And, truth be told, Inej was a little surprised by it herself.

“Well, lately, I do.” She peeled down the pillow just enough to look up at Kaz’s crooked smile as he peered down at her, propped up on an elbow again. “Just of you,” she said, softly – although, wait, that did need a caveat. “And sometimes Nina,” she added with a shrug. Kaz spluttered.

“What?”

“Oh, come off it. Have you seen Nina? I’m pretty sure everyone has sex dreams about Nina.”

“I don’t have sex dreams about Nina.”

“I don’t believe that for one minute, Kaz Brekker.”

Kaz gave a defeated gesture of his hand as he flopped back on his pillow again. The moon gave a silvery glow to his room, across his quilt and his makeshift desk, littered with papers and books. For a moment, Inej watched the pair of their feet beneath the covers, two parallel bumps in the darkness at the foot of the bed, until Kaz moved his foot to nudge hers.

“Tell me what it was about,” he prodded, in a low voice.

And there was an edge to his voice Inej liked, something not entirely chaste, not entirely like the kisses she was used to receiving from him. She tucked the pillow back underneath her and rolled over to look up at him. When she caught his sideways glance, something flickered deep in her chest.

“You had me on your desk,” she murmured back, and she didn’t think it was a trick of the light when she thought she saw his chest rise suddenly. “You tore my clothes off of me. And you kissed every inch of me.”

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock on the wall. Inej let her gaze wander over Kaz’s face, his sharp jaw, the length of his throat to the buttons of his nightshirt. She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

“And you liked that,” but Kaz didn’t say it like a question. He said it like he’d already heard how much she did, just perhaps didn’t quite believe his own ears.

In the dark, Inej’s lips twisted in a coy smirk she couldn’t contain if she tried.

“Yes,” she said.

“And then what,” Kaz pressed. “What happened after that.”

Inej liked this. She liked the way her nerves sang at the sound of his voice. She liked not being the only affected. She raised herself up on her elbows and leaned close to his cheek, like she was going to leave a soft kiss there. Instead, she bent close to his ear, close enough to breathe in the cologne on his neck.

“I had my legs around you,” she whispered there. “And you had me on the brink of coming undone.”

“And then?”

Inej chuckled, lowly. She left the quickest kiss against the stubble on his jaw, and Kaz drew in a quick breath.

“Then you woke me up,” she said, settling back down onto her pillow, and Kaz gave a rueful laugh.

“I,” he declared, “am an asshole.”

“Mmm. And I forgive you. Come back, hold me – it’s late.”

“Of course, love. I’ll be right there.”

But when Kaz didn’t move, Inej glanced over her shoulder at him, confused. He was just – laying there. He didn’t even seem to be scheming. His knees were drawn up beneath the quilt, and he was just staring at the ceiling like he was caught in some far off vision.

“Problem?” Inej asked. Kaz simply shook his head. So, there was definitely a problem.

“I’m happy, you know,” she reminded him, because perhaps she’d made him feel guilty, had made him feel like she needed something he couldn’t give her. “It was just a dream. I don’t need to do any of that, ever, if you don’t want to. Your desk can remain undefiled.”

This was apparently the wrong thing to say. Kaz groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Don’t talk of defiling things,” he said, and then added, more to himself than anything: “Why that, of all things?”

“Are you okay?” Inej was becoming more concerned than confused.

“I’m fine,” he gritted out. “I’m--” He glared at the ceiling.

“You’re what?”

“I’m – having--” Kaz’s words were coming out disjointed and awkward, and for a brief moment, Inej wondered if he was going to need a medik. Then he gestured to his bent knees, to the shadow that fell between his legs, and suddenly Inej was having her own realization.

“Ohhhh.”

Kaz was doing his level best to maintain his dignity in the midst of a raging erection.

“It will pass in a minute,” he mumbled into his hands, and Inej could never understand why, but she’d never felt so smitten.

“You don’t need to be ashamed,” she said, gentle as her cheeks warmed.

“I’m not,” Kaz insisted, rubbing his eyes. “I just – I don’t want to upset you. I don’t want this to…bring up some horrible memory or--”

“It’s you,” Inej insisted. “It’s not.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” and Kaz was right. These nights in his bed, tucked against each other, had been hard-won. There had been nightmares and panic and tears. There had been nights where she’d wondered why they kept trying at all, that maybe she was broken beyond repair and unable to be held, that maybe his love was wasted on her.

She didn’t believe that anymore.

“I’m not afraid of you,” Inej promised him. She rolled over just far enough to take him by the wrist, just over his nightshirt. “And I am not afraid of your body.” With that, she tugged at his arm, a silent plea to hold her close as he always did.

Kaz drew in a breath and rolled to his side, fitting his long arms around her slim frame. She’d always fit against his body like the final piece of a puzzle, in a way that was just meant to be, and she found she slept better these days, when she could nod off like this.

Tonight, though, anticipation flowed through her veins when her heart pounded at the warmth of his body. Here in the moonlight, she still had a toe in the dreamscape, and her body remembered the cresting sensation that had been too abruptly interrupted. She was craving something – if not a resolution, at least just a little more.

Kaz was still hard when she pressed against him. Through the thin cotton of their night clothes, she felt him nestle along the curve of her ass. And she found she liked the way he fit there, too. She pushed back against him, almost like a challenge, or a reassurance, a nonverbal way of showing him she was not afraid.

Kaz made a low sound in the back of his throat that sent ripples through her core. And he pushed back, slowly, gently, pressing the length of his cock against her. His arms around her, he laced his fingers through hers and squeezed.

She’d meant to hold him close and fall back to sleep – she really did. But that sound, that sound he’d made at the feel of her ass against him. It was better than any sound she’d dreamt up. And now Inej had no thoughts at all – only a need to push against his cock again, to hear him wanting her once more.

She pressed back against him again, rolling her hips in a rocking motion, relishing the hardness of his length against her, the way he groaned into her neck and tightened his grip on her fingers. They were still completely clothed, the majority of Kaz’s skin safely encased in cotton, thus sparing him the fear of his memories and panic, and yet -- the world was deliciously shifting, the entire energy of the room changing with each roll of her hips. Why had she never thought of this before?

“Do you know what you do to me?” Kaz rasped close to her ear, and it sent shivers dancing down her spine. She turned her face towards him.

“Should I stop?” she asked in a whisper.

Instead of replying, Kaz let go of one of her hands to trace the length of her waist with his fingertips. When he found her hips, he gripped her hipbones and pulled her, rocking her ass against him again.

“Don’t stop,” he breathed. He kissed the shell of her ear, and her breath caught. She rocked back against him again and again, his fingers digging into her hips. He buried his face against the back of her neck.

“I want,” he groaned, disjointedly. Inej knew. She wanted, too. She wanted, and she had no words for it. She only knew she loved the feel of him, all of him, against her, wanting her, falling apart for her. His hand was flat against her stomach, pressed just below her navel, following the rocking of her hips, and it just wasn’t enough.

“I want,” Kaz tried again, his breathing ragged, “I want to make you feel good, too.”

Inej barely knew herself. She’d spent a few desperate nights aboard The Wraith trying to get to know the desires that lay hidden inside her, buried beneath years of trauma, and what called to them. A few times she’d been able to bring herself to the brink, her toes curling, her body arching on her narrow mattress. She wasn’t sure she could do that with an audience yet. But maybe that wasn’t necessary. Maybe it didn’t need to be anything more than feeling good.

She took the hand that pressed against her stomach, and Inej pressed Kaz’s fingers between her legs. And she rocked and rocked against him, letting her eyes drop closed as her head tilted back against his, feeling each soft, gentle motion as he moved his fingers in time with her hips.

If there was any lingering memory of the Menagerie threatening to raise its ugly head, in this moment, it was small enough to pin up somewhere in the back of her mind, out of reach. In this moment, Inej could sink back into Kaz’s arms, into their familiar warmth, and lose herself to the sounds of his breath and the feel of his fingers through her cotton trousers.

And then, when he said: “Your dream,” Inej felt like she was emerging from another one again. Except she wasn’t. She was still there in his arms, breathing with the gentle rising of the desire in her veins.

“My dream?” she asked, in a haze.

“In your dream,” Kaz was breathing hard when he tried again, “when you were calling my name – what – what we were doing?”

Inej blinked – what kind of stupid question was that? About a sex dream?

“Having…sex?” She couldn’t think straight like this, not with his hard cock pressed against her, not with his fingers doing all that. Surely he was going to feel how wet she was through her clothes.

Kaz huffed a laugh against her neck.

“I know that. How--” Inej pressed back a moan as his fingers made an especially delicious circle around her center, and Kaz groaned at the enthusiastic response of her hips. “how—were we—having--”

“I was on my back,” Inej found the wherewithal to respond finally. “On my back, on your desk. You were--”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Kaz flipped her onto her back. He shifted his weight, wincing a little with his bad leg, and her body seemed to know what to do – she parted her legs to invite him in. The old mattress on Kaz’s bed squeaked and complained as he moved and fitted himself between her thighs.

“Is this all right?” he checked. He held himself up with his hands on either side of her. Curious, she ran her hands up over the swell of his biceps to his shoulders, all hidden from view with sleep clothes, but now very much there for her own tactile enjoyment. She was nodding in speechless agreement.

“It would have been like this?” Slowly, Kaz lowered himself, his lips just barely brushing her hairline. She drew in a breath as he rolled his hips against her, the hard length of him rubbing her just right. She gazed up at him and his tousled hair with hazy eyes.

“Was it something like this?” he rasped again. It was nothing like this, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. Her dream had been ridiculous, fanciful, improbable, not to mention impractical. It hadn’t been real at all. The reality of Kaz, hard and pressed against her, his eyes aching to please her, his gasping breaths and the heat of him, even through their clothes, maybe even especially through their clothes – it was exquisite. It didn’t matter that he had no idea what he was doing. It didn’t matter she wouldn’t have known any better anyway. Just wanting this alone felt miraculous. Like something from a dream.

“Inej,” Kaz was speaking in a strained whisper, his lips so close to her. His breath fanned out across her forehead. “Say something or tell me to stop, I’m--”

Inej could recognize the hint of panic in his voice in an instant.

“Don’t stop,” she gasped, and she brought her hands to cup his neck beneath his shirt collar. Her fingers desperately twisted in the cotton, arresting his attention. She just needed him to keep his eyes on her. “Don’t stop, Kaz. You feel so good.”

“You feel – ah fuck.” Inej moved her hips in time with his, grinding against his cock, and Kaz’s eyes started to roll back in his head. “I don’t want to say anything stupid,” he spouted, his head lolling slightly. “I don’t want to say anything that would remind you of--”

“I’m here with you.” Inej said it like a chant. Like a prayer. Like a spell she wanted cast over this whole sacred space and what was happening between them. “I’m here with you. I’m not thinking of anything but you.”

Kaz locked eyes with her, eyes that carried a thousand horrors and a thousand triumphs. But, in that moment, she knew he only saw her. The remnants of panic were subsiding with every breath he took. He grabbed one of her hands like a lifeline and entwined their fingers over her head.

“I’m not thinking of anything but you,” he echoed. And he dipped his head and took her lips against his.

Inej was lost to a whole new world of sensation then – mouth, lips, teeth, tongues. She let her free hand slide over his the slopes of his back muscles. Desire fluttered inside her like a moth’s wings in lamplight. She was drawn to his taste, his touch with a similar inescapable pull. She gripped his waist, held him as close as she could as they moved against each other. Everything else in the world seemed pointless. This was better than dreaming – better than just about anything. Really, why even bother with breathing when she could be doing this instead?

This was, she thought then, perhaps what it had always been meant to feel like – bodies against bodies, lips and breath and hearts pounding together. If it was never anything more than this, fully clothed but completely consumed in one another, Inej wouldn’t mind one bit.

But suddenly, abruptly, Kaz stopped moving altogether and jerked his head back from their kiss. He was drawing in a sharp breath, and, for a moment, Inej thought for sure the panic had returned – their fun was over. She tried to keep her face neutral, stashing away any disappointment over something he couldn’t help. But when she caught sight of the full view of his face, he just looked flushed, a little overworked.

“Problem?” she asked.

“I just--” His head sagged with sigh, his hair flopping forward. “I shouldn’t--”

“Shouldn’t?” She didn’t remember telling him any shouldn’t’s, and she was the one who started this, after all.

“It’s just--” Who would have thought the Bastard of the Barrel, con-artist extraordinaire, would be so tongue-tied in bed? “You could finish me like this. And I didn’t know if you were, if we were—ready—for that. If it would—make you--”

Saints bless him for his extra care, but at present, Inej was uninterested in any more talk. Slowly, gently, she withdrew her fingers from his, bringing both hands back to his collar.

“Kaz,” she murmured, drawing him closer. “I am going to kiss you again.”

“All right.”

And when she brought their lips together, when he let out a long sigh against her mouth, she showed him exactly how ready she was – she slid a hand along his chest, over his stomach. And she palmed his hard cock through his pajamas.

Kaz groaned against her mouth, sinking against her until his arms nearly gave out under him. He slid his arms under her then, rolling them back onto their sides, facing each other. With her hand still cupping his cock, Kaz leaned over her to seize one of his gloves from his nightstand. And then, in a flurry of frenzied kisses and shaky groping, he wrapped one arm under her waist and the other – oh, the other – gloved and trembling, he hovered above the waistband of her sleeping trousers.

“Can I?” he whispered above her lips and waited until she nodded to slip his fingers over her aching center.

They couldn’t kiss then, either of them, in this haze of lust and years of tension that had finally found a way through their shared brokenness to release. As Inej stroked him, fueled by his frenetic breathing and the way he gripped his close, Kaz watched her carefully, meeting every twisting, writhing intake of breath with careful pressure, like he was coaxing open a lock.

Inej felt like her entire body was on the brink of exploding. It was dangerously close to being too much. For a moment, she feared she’d flown too close to the sun – she would never feel release. That last moment of her dream would be her reality – forever aching, forever wanting, every nerve standing on end. It would turn to pain – she would be ripped open –

“Tell me what you need.” Kaz broke through the rising wave of dread in her as she whined beneath his ministrations. “I’ll give you anything you need.”

“You,” Inej begged, unsure of what she was even asking. “I need to be here with you.”

“You can have all of me,” Kaz breathed. “Anything, Inej, anything.”

And she wasn’t sure why, but her fingers lingered at the waistband of his trousers. She wasn’t thinking. She was greedy. She needed – she needed –

“Yes,” Kaz rasped. “Anything.”

And Inej slid her hand into his pants. Wrapped her hand around his hard, throbbing cock. Slid her hand all the way down his slick shaft and back up again.

There was nothing more visceral she could have done – the very action rooted her into the moment and out of her anxieties. One stroke, and every fiery nerve ending curled inward. Everything overwrought in her turned to butter, churning warm and soft and wonderful –

“Ah, Kaz!” Her body curled with the sensation, like flame burning down a wick. “That’s it,” she sighed, again and again. “That’s it.”

Beside her, Kaz was swearing colorfully, his hips bucking. Something warm and liquid was running over her wrist, but she was far from bothered – she was still ascending. She released her hold on him.

The sensation pulsed through her body long after Kaz stopped swearing, this resolution, this grand finale. Inej sighed and twisted and settled with it, soaking in the pleasant aftershocks that hummed in her bones. Beside her, Kaz collapsed onto his back, chest heaving.

They lay there, spent and silent, for what felt like several minutes. Inej was vaguely aware of having a little concern about what Kaz was thinking about this new territory they’d just breached.

Eventually, though, Kaz started to laugh. She dropped her head to the side to see him running his ungloved hand back in his hair.

“Was that--?” He almost looked sheepish, his cheeks flushed in the afterglow. “I genuinely do not know if it counts as sex if our clothes are still on at the end.”

Inej burst out laughing. How were the two most dangerous people in Ketterdam so incompetent at something as instinctual as sex?

“Maybe?” she giggled as Kaz pulled off his glove and sat up to clean the mess on her forearm with a handkerchief. “I think Nina would say it counts.”

“This,” Kaz pointed at her, “this asking Nina Zenik for sex advice -- this is why you’re having sex dreams about her.”

“Again, Kaz, face facts – literally everyone has sex dreams about Nina.”

From the look on his face, you would have thought Inej was claiming that all of Ketterdam dreamt of bedding his sister. Kaz was equal parts disgusted and incredulous as he returned to his pillow. Inej laughed again and curled on her side, facing him. He was grinning widely at her and stretched out an arm beneath her to gather her to his side.

“Have I ever told you how much I love your laugh?” Kaz asked, as Inej rested her head on his chest. She smiled against him. His heartbeat was even, steady, thrumming beneath her ear.

“You’ve mentioned it,” she said.

“It’s your best quality,” Kaz told her. “As is your smile. And your hair. And your legs.”

“Not my stealth and my cunning wit?” Inej was grinning as she made mental notes – sex made Kaz Brekker chatty.

“Those make you invaluable,” Kaz explained, tracing circles over the outline of her lean shoulders. “Your laugh, though – your laugh made me fall in love with you.”

Inej craned her head to stare up at him, a little dumbstruck. It wasn’t that she didn’t know – it was the carefree way he’d offered it up. Like he had nothing to hide from her anymore.

That night, like so many other nights, Kaz held her close as long as he could, while their eyelids grew heavy and they traded kisses in the dark. And Inej fell asleep tucked against him, dreamless – at peace.

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