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thetypingpup · 1 year

Text

Off Script: Part 1

banner by @yujaemna

Link to Part 2

Pairing: The Legion!Xiaojun x Yan!Survivor!Female Reader

AU: Dead by Daylight

Genre: smut, aspects of horror

Wordcount: 12.3K

Content: little rundown of the dead by daylight game at the beginning so you don’t need prior knowledge going into this, allusions to violence and death but nothing graphic (xiaojun’s a killer in this so), yandere content (including stalking, obsession, and possessiveness), fingering (female receiving), praise, petnames (sweetheart and baby), oral (male and female receiving), unprotected sex, he fucks you against a generator, riding on the couch, little bit of nipple play, knife play, some mask kink, hair pulling (male receiving), no established power dynamics but there’s some switching going on

Taglist: @mint-yooxgi, @hall0ween-twn, @jenoslutie, @yujaemna, @mrkis, @ncteez

The frosted kiss of snowflakes upon your face awakens you. You squint against the snowflakes that land on your skin, melting them with a rub of your fingertips before allowing your eyes to open. You’re surrounded by grass so tall that you have to stand to see above it. The looming overcast and fog is so intense it's impossible to tell if the pervasive haze signifies day or night, though the gloom of shadowed teal indicates that sunlight must be a distant memory. A scattered sprawl of boulders and broken trees lies before you, with snow coated evergreens dotted throughout. Open structures of wood, brick, and concrete are strewn about the grounds, as though the buildings that once were have been dismembered at the seams. A range of snowy mountains looms in the distance beyond the fence of brick towers looped together by steel that mark the boundaries of the territory.

A smile forms on your face as you take in your surroundings. You’ve awakened in this realm before. Mount Ormond Resort has become a favorite location of yours. You wonder how this area, which was once a beacon of relaxed escapism, became such a desolate waste. You don’t know how this place became consumed by the ever present Entity, but you know exactly how to navigate this snow coated domain. The only question is if he appeared here as well.

You start to wander through the grass, searching for the others that appeared in the arena with you. The pursuit of escape is a familiar routine to say the least. Each time you awaken in a new terrain, with no memory of how you arrived, three others awaken with you. The goal is for the four of you to open the doors on either side of the expanse and escape. The price of failure is death, for if you fail, the terror within will hunt you down.

The terror within is different each time. An assortment of killers inhabits this world, killers that vary in skill and ability. The killer that you face changes each time, but the same ruthless drive to murder links them all. You've been through enough of these trials to have encountered each one at least a few times.

Other than the variance in locale and killer, these trials follow a constant format. You attempt to escape, or you fall victim to the evil that lurks about. The killer will chase and wound you with their weapon of choice, until you’re weak enough to be caught and hauled away. Once caught, said killer will mount you onto one of the ghastly hooks strewn about the terrain like a crude offering of meat. Should you fail in escaping its grasp, an unholy entity emerges from the darkness, spears your body with the sharp points of its limbs, and takes your lifeless body into the void above. Your goal is for your group to flee before that happens and survive these horrors.

Ordinarily, the civilians clamor for escape, craving the warm glow of The Campfire that marks the end of the trial. The other option is to succumb to the sweet release of death once the horror and pain of these twisted trials proves to be too much.

You choose neither, instead deciding to be an active player in these games. These trials, a source of terror to so many, are nothing short of thrilling to you. The excitement of the chase, the satisfaction of sabotaging and outsmarting an assailant, the sense of wonderment you feel watching these killers utilize their varied abilities, have all melded together in an addictive adrenaline rush. You deride a great deal of gratification from mastering these trials, taking your time to discover every strategy there is to succeed. To you, a defeat upon one of those grisly hooks is not a harbinger of doom, but rather a spark that sets alight the desire to improve and escape the next time. You have no concept of life beyond this endless loop of death and resuscitation. Since you exist as nothing more than a pawn in this cruel game, you might as well have fun playing.

You locate the others you’re meant to survive with, spotting them hard at work on a generator; a large engine complete with a row of pistons on either side and a floodlight mounted up top. If your group succeeds in activating this one, only four more need to be activated to power the exit doors. You’re already giddy with excitement, all but skipping into the fractured building to join them. The flickering flame perched on a brick beam lights the way as they work. They tinker with the mechanical structure and it begins to whir to life, the cylinders on the side slowly starting to fire off one by one. You aid them, taking your place on the side and fiddling with the machinery. The floodlight begins to come alight as you make progress, glowing brighter the further along you are in repairs. You’ve done this so many times it’s easy to let your hands automatically move over the console, and even easier to let your mind wander. The whirring of the machine, the blaring beam of the lights, the red paint on the accents, all starts to fade from your perception.

You wonder again if you’ll see him this round; the knife wielding killer with a smiling face scrawled onto his ceramic mask.

You’ve only encountered him a few times, but that was just enough to have you fixated. You admire a great many of the killers, but he’s the one that has you this enraptured. For one thing he’s fast, faster than any of the other killers, with the unique ability to mortally wound an entire group with a single burst of speed. It turns the lethargic sense of looming danger into a rapid rush of dread, which excites you to no end. The excitement of his pursuit always courses through you with the speed of a match being struck, igniting a flame of arousal in its wake. That flame is fanned by his sheer revelry in ruthlessness, and the way he wields his hunting knife with such expert malignance. You find yourself contemplating the thought of his knife against your skin, slowly running along your flesh, scintillating your nerves with its sharpness. He thrills you to no end, so much so that you’d often linger as he executes his kills. The advantage of being able to immediately pluck your teammate off the hook is abandoned when you watch him. For a few stolen moments, completing the trial ceases to matter. All that matters is him.

While everyone’s heart races loudly out of trepidation when he’s near, this masked killer has your heart pounding out of titillated desire. You feel yourself getting turned on the more you think about him, wondering how the edge of his blade will feel right against your neck if he does catch you.

Lost in your thoughts, your hand slips on the generator, and you fumble on the console. Sparks fly from the machine and the resulting boom brings you out of your reverie. Everyone hears the telltale sign that the killer is closing in, your tandem heartbeats pounding louder the closer they get. Your companion is shaking, and you can tell that he already feels the sluggish crawl of cortisol through his bloodstream. You on the other hand are invigorated by adrenaline. You all but jump when you see a flash of that mask among the distant trees. It’s him! You don’t know when you’ll encounter him again, and you’ll be damned if you let this opportunity go to waste.

This is your chance.

“I’ll distract him.” You whisper sharply to the others, “Run!”

They don’t need to be told twice. They’re quick to scatter off into the night, hoping to never be found. You know that he’ll be able to catch them with a single charge through the woods, but not this time. This time you’re determined to keep his focus on you. This time, he’ll be pursuing you and only you. You step away from the generator and right into the center of this broken building.

The killer steps past the threshold and into the light. The firelight flickers over the curve of his white mask, a mask that’s been muted with scratches and blood stains. The half lit floodlight casts a glow over the demented smile scrawled on the surface. Your heart pounds as he steps closer, as he clutches his knife tighter in his hand. Even from this distance, his presence is looming. It makes the hoodie and jeans he dons appear as if they’re darkened not by dye, but by the umbrage of the night itself. It makes his weapon seem like more than just a simple hunting knife, but a more imposing, dangerous blade. The jagged serrations towards the point of the spine glint with the threat of added agony should he manage to wound you. Even though you can’t see his eyes, you feel his piercing gaze through the holes poked onto the ceramic cover, drawn to those piercing centers by the circles drawn around them. You focus on those central openings as if you’re staring into his eyes, and in your mind, that’s exactly what you’re doing.

Your heart races with glee. Right now it’s just you and him, just as it should be. No one else deserves to be on the receiving end of his intense stare. With a grin, you take off across the realm, and he immediately rounds on your heels.

The realm passes by in a blur of shadowed teal and towering trees as the chase ensues. The grass rustles noisily as you race through, offset by the ruckus of running over different floors. You dash between buildings, vault over boulders, slide past corners, in an effort to outrun him. He matches you move for move, showing no sign of slowing or stopping. You throw down a pallet to block his path, he hops over it. You run through a shed and jump through a window, he leaps after you. You round a corner only to dash in the opposite direction, he catches onto your trick and follows after you. He remains right on your heels just out of reach, so close you can practically feel the sharp end of his blade, and you have to sprint faster just to gain some distance.

This is why you love chases with this killer so much. You have to be faster to outrun him than any of the other killers, which makes your heart pound and your lungs strain from the effort. The sheer exertion of maintaining such intense speed physically stimulates you. You’re made to employ every strategy you’ve acquired in these trials, providing simultaneous stimulation for your mind. Adrenaline merges with alarmed suspense in the most delectable way, forming the arousal that courses through you. He’s making you work for your victory, and you love every moment of it. The intensity of his stare alone is enough to have you pulsing with need, and now that you have his full attention, now that you have him this close, pure desire starts to bloom within you.

You know exactly where to lead him next.

The killer is grinning behind his mask, his grin only widening as he closes in. He pays no heed to the way the grass gives way to wooden floorboards underfoot as he follows you. Chasing you is the most fun he’s had in ages. You managed to make him break a sweat in this freezing terrain. The challenge you posed has been thrilling to say the least, but now he’s closing in. He’s so close to catching you, so close to achieving payoff for such an intense challenge. He raises his knife, ready to bring it down with a brutal stab, ready to execute a satisfying kill.

But you don’t continue to flee. Instead you stop and turn to face him, not moving, not even flinching as he advances. He’s so stunned that by the sudden shift he halts, the point of his knife hovering right at your collarbone. Only the rise and fall of your chest brings you in contact with the knife for brief moments at a time.

The frenzy of the chase begins to fade, his heart still hammering from the rush as he takes in his surroundings. He sees that you led him into the decrepit chalet that was once the center of the resort, but is now the center of this cursed arena. The blight of age and frost has deteriorated every corner of this place, from the office to the side, to the bar tucked away in the back, to the rooms situated up and around the main area. Black spray paint is scrawled all along the chipping walls and only adds to the sense of disrepair. The roof is so dilapidated that snowfall seeps through, and icicles line the splintered roofbeams. Broken windows fogged up with frost let in whistling gusts of wind and blasts of snow, snow that collects in piles on the ground. The only fixtures that haven’t completely decayed are the fireplace at the center of the room that’s connected to the ceiling with a chimney reminiscent of a furnace pipe, and the conversation pit situated in a circle around it.

You must have stopped in here to offer yourself as a sacrifice, the way so many have before. He can’t fathom another reason to stop mid chase. Except, he notices that you haven’t stopped him in some corner on the far side of the room, pausing when you realize there’s nowhere left to go. You’ve stopped right next to the generator by the stairs, right next to the very thing you need to activate in order to escape. But you don’t. You don’t make any move other than to lean against the rustic contraption, holding your ground even with the blade dangerously close to piercing your skin, tilting your head with coquettish intent. If he didn’t know any better, he’d assume that you wanted him to catch you.

It’s certainly an interesting thought.

He takes a single step back to get a better look at you. Even in the dim cover of shadow, your visage is completely illuminated, as if capturing the glow of the fire and claiming it for yourself. It makes it easy for his eyes to rove over your form, and that’s when he realizes-

It’s you! You’re the one that keeps getting away.

He’s only seen you a few times before, when The Entity decides you should be among the next batch of people he hunts and kills. You’ve always stood out amongst the scores of people subjected to these trials. You’ve always been quicker, more clever than the others. You’ve never shied away from the brutality or cowered in terror. You don’t even seem to fear The Entity, which made you stand out even more. He could never corner you before now, could barely ever get you within reach, but the chase with you was always the most exhilarating. You’ve made him work for it, made him be more agile and quick just for the chance to catch you. With you, he simply had to be better. So even though you always manage to elude him and escape, he finds a round far more satisfying if you are among the humans clamoring for survival. You give him a good enough challenge that he feels his blood pumping faster than before.

He’s only ever seen you in fleeting glances as the landscape whizzes by in a blur, never long enough to take in any detail. In this moment of stillness, he gets to truly gaze upon you for the first time, and he’s in absolute awe. Simply put, he can’t believe just how attractive you are. From your pretty face, to the appealing shape of your body, he’s drawn to every part of you. In his eyes you’re downright alluring, perfect in every way. He’s never encountered anyone this tempting before, and the confidence you exude makes you all the more enticing.

“I was wondering when you’d finally catch me.” Your quip breaks the silence, and your boldness has him taken aback.

“Finally?” He questions curiously, “You’ve been waiting for this?”

You reply with a grin, “More than you know. Took you long enough, by the way. I was thinking you’d never pull it off.”

It seems you’re intent on presenting a challenge in more ways than one, which only tantalizes him more. He struck gold with you.

“Well aren’t you bold?” As bold as you are beautiful, though he reigns in that musing to maintain some veneer of control. Slowly, he runs his knife right along your face, lightly enough to barely ghost your skin. He continues to admire you, his line of sight following the path of his blade. He eyes your alluring features as he traces the knife along the curve of your face and down to your neck. The phantom touch has you shivering in excitement before him. He places the blade right at the soft part beneath your jaw, right where it gives way to the flesh of your neck, “Alright, you have my attention. What is it you want from me?”

He’s been in this situation before, though admittedly there’s never been this much tension sparking in the air like static. But regardless, he’s cornered a person before, so he knows how this goes. He’s certain that your next words will be a plea for him to spare the others, telling him whatever you feel you have to so you’ll let them pass through the exit alive. Maybe you’ll make an appeal for your own life, offer the others so that you might have a chance to escape. He’s fully expecting the same dull appeals he’s heard countless times, but your next words have him stunned.

Instead of reciting some recycled plea for mercy with an equally overdone shrill cry, you request in a rather sultry voice, “I want to see what’s under that mask of yours.”

The suggestive undertones echo loudly, lingering in the air amidst the heavy silence that follows.

Well, this is new. People have wanted to unmask him before, but that was always so they could try to catch him off guard, or otherwise leave him exposed. No one has ever wanted to unmask him out of a want to see what lies beneath. He’s never inspired such infatuation in someone before, though to be fair he didn’t think it was possible in this environment. Hearing your emphatic confession has him considering that possibility, has him drawn that much more to you, has him pressing you right against the generator in the middle of the room. You start panting softly at this, unable to contain your eagerness.

These trials present only two options, escape or death, but you’ve somehow presented a third. No one has ever been this bold before, nor has anyone expressed such shameless interest in him. It’s refreshing, like an early winter chill, one that’s instantly followed by a wave of heated hedonistic hankering. He hasn’t felt the touch of another since before he had gotten trapped in this godforsaken figment of reality. He had forgotten there was more to existence aside from the endless pursuit of victims. He didn’t know people could feel anything towards him besides fear, not until now.

He didn’t know he was capable of feeling such lust until now, but you have him absolutely enraptured. You’re so fucking gorgeous he can’t help his attraction to you, which is as instant as it is intense. His mind wanders the longer he stares at you. He’s transfixed by the rise and fall of your chest in time with your breathing. He wonders how your breasts would feel in his hands, and how you would sigh in bliss as he fondles them. Your hands clutch the pipe arched over the generator. He wonders what they would feel like running all over his body, or wrapped around his cock. He wants to make you come undone for him, to bring you to the height of pleasure over and over until you’re trembling. He wants to make you moan, make you cry out, make you beg for more. He wants to tell you his name just so you have something to scream when he makes you cum, just so you have something to remember when he makes all your other thoughts vanish.

The heated glint in your eyes tells him your mind is reeling with equally depraved thoughts about him. The way your frosted breath puffs from your lips and fans out over the smile on his mask is enticing to say the least. He wonders what you would do, what he would do, without the barrier of his mask between you. Which of you would be the first to close the distance between your lips? At present, it’s truly anybody’s game.

Perhaps now is the time for a new sort of game, especially since you’re so willing to play.

“Alright, I’ll tell you what. I’ll let you see my face,” He ponders aloud, pressing the knife right against your racing pulse, “But you’ll have to earn it.”

The wispy waver in your voice tells him you’re already brimming with titillation, “How do I do that?”

“Keep my attention. Show me why I should reveal myself to you.” He quips playfully, wondering if you’ll be just as much of a tease.

Though instead of playing coy right back, you all but blurt out what you want, “What if I satisfy you? Show you pleasure beyond what you’ve ever felt before? Would that make me worthy enough to see your face?”

Now it’s his turn to hear his racing heartrate in his ears, but he retains his composed hum as he speaks, “Perhaps it would. There’s only one way to know for sure.”

With his free hand, he reaches down to undo his pants. Your line of sight is instantly drawn down between his legs, your lower lip retreating beneath your teeth. You can see that he’s already half hard from the pent up tension, which only serves to make you crave him more. He lazily strokes his cock, your eyes following the motion of his hand. You swallow, your mouth already starting to water as you watch. He chuckles at this, “I’ll let you please me, and if I’m fully satisfied, I’ll let you have a glimpse beneath my mask. Sound fair?”

“Yes.” You barely get the word out before you’re already lowering to your knees. The moment your knees meet the floor, you’re replacing his hand with your own, stroking his length.

“Guess I won’t be needing this right now.” From the corner of your eye you see his grip loosening on the knife, and you’re quick to comment.

“No, keep it.” You insist, peering up at him through your lashes, “I wanna feel it against my skin while I suck you off.”

“You’re even kinkier than I thought. I like that.” He obliges you, bringing the blade up to your throat. His voice deepens to a sensual timbre, accented by the cold press of the blade, “Now suck.”

Slyly, you pull his pants down more and press a kiss to both of his hips, sending pleasant shudders through him. Then, slowly, you take the head of his cock into your mouth. From the moment you wrap your lips around him, he’s already moaning out in pleasure. Your lips feel so fucking good wrapped around the tip, and the way your tongue toys with the head already has his toes curling. You start to take him in deeper and fuck the way you engulf him is downright scintillating. His other hand rests on your head, pushing you down further, already wanting to feel more. You keep up easily, bobbing your head up and down at a steady pace, letting your tongue trace patterns along the underside. Your hand wraps around the rest of his length, working in tandem with your mouth.

Though muffled by his mask, his moans are unmistakable, seeping through the ceramic cover like the snow seeping through the broken roof. The slick wet sounds of your mouth moving up and down overpower the crackling of the fire and the persistent whistle of the wind. He’s already submerged in pleasure, pushing your head down to take him deeper and deeper with every bob. Pleasure flows through him in time with your motions, overtaking his mind with wanton need. He almost forgets about the knife in his hand until he sees the blade glint when he looks down, and that’s when an idea comes to mind.

He taps your chin with the tip of his knife, prompting you to, “Look at me, baby.”

His breath hitches sharply when your eyes meet. Your gaze emits a surge of arousal so intense his cock twitches in your mouth. He manages to keep the knife steady against your neck, and he clutches it tighter to anchor himself, elsewise he would surely unravel right before your eyes. Half of him wants to let his eyes slide shut in bliss, while the other half wants to take in the way the firelight flickers over your gorgeous face.

“Fuck, you look so pretty, baby.” He can’t help but let the musing slip, letting the visage of control slip just a bit. It’s just so easy to lose himself in the pleasure you give him, to let his mind go blank and just enjoy the wet heat of your mouth and the soft warmth of your hand. It’s so easy to endear you with praise and pet names, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. It’s worth it, seeing your eyes come alight and feeling the vibrations of your excited hums.

You pull back with and stroke his cock at a brisk pace, gasping out a plea for him to, “Keep talking to me. You sound so fucking hot.”

“That’s it sweetheart, don’t stop.” He guides your head back down onto his cock, “Keep using that pretty mouth of yours.”

The praise has your mind reeling, pride swelling in your chest. Even as your mouth works the turgid flesh of his cock, the corners of your lips turn upwards in a proud smile. Every pet name and endearment makes your chest warm with elation, and makes your core pulse with arousal. Reveling in the way his cock fills your mouth, you pick up the pace. You suckle faster, harder, in time with his rough grunts and groans for more. You move down lower and lower, until your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of the tip breaching your throat. Every time you swallow, you feel the cold, sharp press of his knife against your throat, your heart racing at the sensation. His hips buck in time with your motions up and down on his cock, and before you know it, your nose meets the zipper of his hoodie with every thrust.

You look up intently, staring up at the ivory colored cover over his face, and the cruel smile scratched onto the surface. With the barrier of the mask, you’re made to focus on the sounds emitted from within, on his filthy words and guttural moans of pleasure. There’s something melodic to his voice that makes it sound like he’s singing your praises, and it makes pure, aching need radiate from between your legs. Your other hand slips into your pants, pressing against your clit to try and seek some relief. He sounds so fucking good, and you wanna hear more.

“You’re so good at this baby, so fucking good. Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop.” He pants shamelessly, and it takes everything in you not to cum from his praise alone. You’ve managed to make him come apart already, managed to unthaw his icy resolve with the liquid heat of lust. You can tell he’s getting close from the way his cock throbs in your mouth, from the way his balls tense against your chin. You pick up the pace, sucking faster to bring him to climax. Your other hand fondles his balls, softly enough to tease and titillate, keeping him enveloped in you as you bring him closer to release. He stops you before you right before he cums, tugging you off his cock with a hand in your hair, letting out rasping gasps for air.

Right as you’re about to question him, he answers the query forming on your tongue, “Don’t wanna cum yet. I wanna fuck you first.”

Despite being out of breath, you manage to smirk and breathlessly quip, “I was hoping you’d say that.”

You’re quick to stand and lean back against the generator, spreading your legs so he can slot himself between them. Anticipation has your hands working quickly to undo your pants and shove them out of the way, already aching to feel his touch on your bare skin. You barely manage to step out of one pant leg before he pulls you closer with a growl, “C’mere baby. Lemme get you ready for me.”

It’s flattering as well as erotic to see that he’s just as impatient as you. With a strong grasp, he hitches your leg over his hip, bringing you flush against him. That same hand trails down to your inner thigh, before stopping right between your legs. Even through your panties, the contact makes your breath hitch sharply. He strokes your folds through the fabric, the slight stimulation making you shudder already.

“You’re so wet for me baby.” He murmurs, fingers curling into the garment to move it to the side, “Is all this because of me?”

“Don’t be so fucking smug.” You retort, grabbing his shoulders for balance, “I just had you begging for me.”

“And here you are, soaking wet just from sucking my dick.” He tilts his head, leaning in close enough to mutter right in your ear, “Do you really need me that bad?”

“No more than you need me.” Your fiery retort fizzles out into gasping embers on your tongue the moment his fingers slide between your bare folds.

“Hmm, what was that sweetheart? I didn’t quite catch that.” He hums, chuckling at your wanton moan before he keeps going. Even as he brushes over your clit with meandering strokes, he has you close to losing yourself completely. You arch your hips up into his touch as he rubs circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves. The sound of your needy whimpers delights him, and he picks up the pace so he can hear more.

Your head tilts back the moment his finger pushes past your entrance. By now your mind is beyond hazy with need, and the relief of finally feeling him inside you has you whining aloud. He thrusts slowly, the slide slickened by the gloss of your arousal. He adds another finger soon after, already feeling you open up for him. The slick friction within you has your mind racing and has a litany of breathy, curse ridden moans pouring from your lips. His thumb keeps rubbing circles over your clit, fueling the flames of pleasure that rage hot enough to burn. You grab onto his shoulders tighter, clutching the fabric of his hoodie for balance as your legs tremble. His fingers move with expert deftness, and you can’t help but whimper, “How the fuck are you so good at this?”

He smirks behind his mask, reaching that tender spot that has you gasping at the sudden surge of elevated pleasure, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

In truth he’s going off of innate conjecture, simply responding to the cues from your body and the wavering pitch of your voice, but it’s fun to tease you this way. He massages your sweet spot with come hither motions, further submerging you in bliss. Just to add to your ecstasy, he wields his knife with his other hand, cutting your shirt open before placing it right between your collarbone and the top of your breast. The blade slowly drags over your skin, the scape of pain sparking static flares of pleasure that have you clenching around his fingers.

“Yes, yes, yes!” You cry out and arch up against the sharp edge of the blade just to feel more. He keeps going easily, wielding his knife with expert deftness, dragging the edge right over your racing heart. He makes you feel the intensity of the blade without breaching the skin, all while ravaging you with his fingers. The only thing that keeps you from writhing in his grasp is the threat of the knife piercing your flesh, the looming danger of which has adrenaline mixing with pleasure in the most delectable way.

If it wasn’t for that damn mask, you’d surely be moaning right against his lips and letting your tongue stroke his own. Your mind reels envisioning what he looks like beneath that mask, and it anchors you to this moment. Would his brows crease the longer he pleases you? Would his lips remain parted as he stares at you? Is his intense stare one of carnal hunger, amorous desire, or some combination of the two?

As good as he’s making you feel, you want to feel even more. You want something bigger and thicker than just his fingers, something that connects you to him fully. Your back arches, pressing your chest right against his. Your body craves even more contact, even more sensation, even more of him.

“Fuck me already.” You plead, earnest desire shining in your eyes, “Please, I want you to fuck me, now.”

Neither of you waste another moment. With his aid, you’re perched right against the generator, precariously balanced right on the edge of the jutting console. He grabs your hip and both of you moan aloud as he slides into you with ease. He eases his way all the way inside you, fully enveloping himself in your tight heat, groaning all the while at how good you feel around him. Rocking his hips, he starts to fuck you right against the generator, keeping the blade pressed against you all the while.

The rustic engine creaks loudly and rocks with every thrust, but neither of you pay this any heed. All he’s focused on is how you’re practically sucking him in with every thrust, and all you can focus on is the feeling of being stretched out on his cock. He fucks you at a steady pace before gradually picking up speed, smoothly rolling and gyrating his hips to make you gasp out in pleasure. The knife provides the perfect press of pain to have you spiraling into a whirlwind of bliss. You both come apart easily, melting into each other, merged right at your thrusting hips as you grind against each other in search of sensation. Despite the pervasive frost, heat builds between you both intensely enough to have sweat beading on your brow.

“So good.” He groans languidly, drawing out the syllables, the forehead of his mask pressed to yours, “You feel so fucking good baby, fuck.”

You clench around him at this, making him moan louder. You buck your hips to meet his thrusts, trying to get him even deeper, trying to feel him even more. Your mind blanks, your body absolutely alight with bliss, and you pant out moan after wanton moan. He shifts the angle ever so slightly, just enough to have him reaching another soft spot deep inside you. The action makes you keen aloud and tossing your head back, arms wrapping around his neck, “Fuck yes, right there! Right there, yes! Harder!”

Tossing his knife aside, he uses both hands to grasp your ass instead, pounding right against that spot. He pistons his hips, faster and faster as the moments pass, grunting in pleasure all the while. The head of his cock presses right against that tender spot over and over with each thrust, your breathing reduced to rasping puffs of air as you try to keep up. He rails you with reckless abandon, surges of pure euphoria coursing through you at a breakneck pace. You take it all in eagerly, greedily, grabbing him tighter so you don’t completely slip away.

“That’s it sweetheart, that’s it.” He mutters, his voice lowered to a rough growl, “Fuck, I can’t get enough of you. Can’t get enough of this pussy.”

Unbeknownst to you, a couple of the other people trapped in this trial sneak near the chalet in search of a generator. Their hearts begin racing being in such close proximity to the killer, but they inch closer nonetheless. They peek through one of the busted windows, only to see you getting railed right against the generator they need to power to escape, only to hear him groaning shamelessly about how good you feel while you let out choked cries of bliss. They scurry off in search of another generator, though even their loud footsteps can’t be heard over the cacophony of carnal decadence within.

Caution has been tossed to the winter wind. Right now, the circumstances that led you here; the trial and the looming evil that permeates this world, don’t fucking matter. All that matters is the profound pleasure you feel, the intensity of your close proximity, and the satisfaction that you finally have each other within your grasp. The coil of ecstacy curls tighter in your core with each passing moment, signifying your impending release. His pace starts to falter, hips stuttering, signifying that he’s right there with you chasing his high.

“Gonna cum baby.” He manages to breathe out between rough groans, grabbing onto you tighter to anchor himself, “Wanna feel you cum right on my cock.”

“Cum in me. Please I wanna feel you cum in me so fucking bad” Your plea sounds like a half delirious babble, but he hears you loud and clear.

A few more thrusts and he’s stilling against you with a drawn out groan, spurts of liquid release shooting deep inside you. Feeling his cock pulse with every spurt of cum has you careening over the edge of ecstasy. The infernos of euphoria sweep through your body in blazing waves that consume you whole, making tears prick at the corner of your eyes as you scream. You shudder and tighten around him in fluttering pulses through your orgasm as he works you through it, suspended right in the throes of pure, primal passion.

You pant heavily as you cum down, letting your hands slip from his shoulders down to either side of the generator. He likewise loosens his grip on your ass, though his hands still rest on the curve of your cheeks. You lean back and away from him, just to get a reprieve from the intense heat. The pervasive winter chill settles over you both, cooling you in just the right way.

Your query breaks the silence, “So, have I earned it?”

“Earned what?” He questions, still somewhat out of breath.

“Getting to take your mask off.” You quirk a brow and chuckle, “Have you forgotten already?”

“In my defense, my mind has been occupied for the last little while.” He slyly replies, running his hand along your bare thigh, “Can’t imagine why.”

You huff out a laugh that brings with it a puff of cold air, “Yea that’s a real mystery.”

“But I’d say yes, you’ve earned it sweetheart.” Pushing back his hood, he reaches behind his head, undoing the fastening that keeps the mask in place. You straighten up attentively, eager to see him fully. Finally you’re getting what you’ve been waiting for. You can’t keep the smile off your face when you see him lower the mask and move it aside. The ceramic no longer conceals his face and oh…wow…

You assumed he would be hot. You hoped he would be hot, but the face staring back at you is nothing short of stunning perfection. You’re drawn right to his sharp eyes, so intense you can easily get lost in them. His smooth skin glows in the radiance of the firelight, the highpoints of his face reflecting the flickering gleam. Your line of sight roves over his thick black eyebrows, his raised cheekbones, his sharp jawline, and you’re left wondering how the hell someone can be this beautiful. He’s a living contradiction, with long hair gray as ashen snow framing a face that exudes youthful elegance. The personification of regal beauty stands just across from you, the kind of beauty that must be shielded from hellish landscapes like this one. Perhaps that’s why he wore the mask. You don’t know. All you know is that the bow shaped pout of his lips looks so soft, you want to pull him in for a kiss and never let up.

Smug pride doesn’t begin to encapsulate what you feel when you realize that you’re the only one that gets to witness such beauty.

Your expression must be one of stunned bewilderment, because he comments on it with a bemused chuckle, “You can pick your jaw up off the floor, sweetheart. I didn’t think I looked that bad.”

You adamantly refute this with a shake of your head, “No, on the contrary. You look even better than I ever envisioned.”

“Am I really that hot?” He jests, huffing out a laugh.

“Better.” You tell him earnestly, “You look like royalty.”

You reach out to him, fitting your hand to the curve of his face. He lets you, and even leans into your touch ever so subtly, which has a giddy sense of glee blooming in your chest. The longer you stare, the more heat rises to the surface of your cheeks. You’ve seen his face, claimed your ultimate prize, and it’s even better than you could’ve imagined. All of this begs the question; what do you do now?

As far as you’re concerned, there’s only one thing to do.

A moment later, both of you close the distance with a series of searing kisses. Already you’re moaning into each other’s mouths as you savor the softness of each other’s lips. Already you’re grasping at each other as you try to get impossibly closer. You’ve been wanting to kiss each other the whole night, so now is your time to ravenously indulge.

Without breaking contact, he helps you off the generator, leading you over to the couches that line the conversation pit. He falls back onto one of the curved cushions of the couch, pulling you down with him by the hips. Your tongue slips past his lips and meets his, and he eagerly parts his lips to let you lick into his mouth. Your tongues come together with each kiss, sensually stroking each other, and you moan right into each other’s mouths. His hand comes up to the back of your neck to pull you closer, just as your own hand runs through his hair. You straddle his lap, letting yourself settle right on top of him as you continue to make out.

Now that he’s finally kissing you, he only wants you more. Your lips feel so fucking good against his, so soft and perfect, and he never wants to stop feeling you. Hearing your satisfied hums against his lips only adds to his delight. He wants to keep being your source of enjoyment, the reason for your sighs of content and your cries of ecstasy. He wants to keep exploring your beautiful body, to discover all the ways to make you feel good, to shield you from the harsh winter chill by kindling the fires of fervent desire. Most importantly, he wants to be the only one to do so. Fatigue from such intense sex is the only thing keeping him from acting on his desire to give you more. Besides, he quite enjoys languidly kissing you like this. It’s pleasant to say the least.

The apples of your cheeks simmer with the heat of infatuation, searing hotter as his thumb starts running over the curve of your face with every kiss. Your heart soars at the fond interest you feel emanating off of him, which is just as potent enough to match your own. You never want to leave his side, never want him to stop dousing you in such intimate affection. Pleasure was fun, but this is just as rewarding. Sharing kisses is just as satisfying as sharing orgasms, and now that you’ve done both with him, you’re over the moon with elation. Having the exact source of your obsession in your arms like this fills you with covetous joy, and you don’t plan on letting him go any time soon.

The kisses you exchange get gentler and gentler until they come to a stop, that sensual softness building between you taken over by the pull of slumber. Before you know it, the only sounds in the room are the crackle of the flame, the ever present trill of the winter wind, and the soft sound of your breathing. The last thing you remember is resting on the rise and fall of his strong chest, and the soft warmth of his lips upon your cheek.

Beyond the bounds of your perception, the dark entity that reigns over this cursed domain feeds off your emotions, and thus lets you remain to indulge in each other for the time being.

*****

You don’t know how long you’ve been asleep. The endless night makes it so you can never tell how much time passes. It could’ve been a few hours, it could’ve been a matter of days. You have no way to know. The sky is just as dark and the snowfall is just as heavy as before, so it’s truly anyone’s guess as to how long you’ve been here.

You hear the telltale cry of agony and anguish as someone gets mounted on a distant hook. The bellowing, otherworldly snarl that follows tells you The Entity has come to claim yet another unlucky soul. Mild disappointment settles in your chest when you realize you missed a chance to watch him kill again. You suppose your time with him is over.

You tug your clothes back in place, planning to depart through one of the gaping holes in the wall. Surely at least one of the exits is open now. Surely the others couldn't have been that incompetent. Time to survive yet another trial. That disappointment festers and permeates as you scan the walls in search of an opening in the worn wood. You don’t want to leave to face another killer that’s not him, especially now after you’ve just been so intimately entwined. You glumly ponder how long it might be before you get to see him again.

Before you can make it away from the couch, he advances on you with a burst of speed. In the blink of an eye his body is pressed against yours, his arms are wrapped around you, and the edge of his knife is laid against your throat. He murmurs, low and rough in your ear, “Where do you think you’re going sweetheart?”

He’s still here! Fuck, this is the first time he managed to catch you off guard, and it’s even more thrilling than you ever imagined. That familiar match of arousal is stricken up your spine, prompting you to let out a soft moan. The cover of white in the corner of your eye tells you his mask is back on, that the latest unlucky victim didn’t have the privilege of seeing the beauty that’s concealed within. He’s fired up from a fresh kill, and your pulse pounds between the serrations on the back of his blade.

You shrug, though you settle into his arms, “Going back to The Campfire. Shouldn’t you be off to another realm by now?”

“That only happens if everyone here either dies or runs off, and as far as I can see, you still remain.” The frosted wisps of his breath tickle the side of your neck and drive a warm shiver through your body.

“Then hook me, or let me pass through the exit, so we can complete this trial.” You tell him, though your reluctance to continue that endless loop seeps through in your voice. After waiting for so long you finally got the chance to have him, and you’ll be damned if you let this go to waste. But the warmth of The Campfire calls, and the image of its flaming light flickers at the forefront of your mind.

Thankfully, he seems to have the same mindset, for he admits that, “As far as I’m concerned, the game’s not over yet. I’m having way too much fun playing with you baby, and I have a feeling you wanna keep playing with me too.”

He’s right. He’s so right. You waited so long for this, and there’s no way you want to stop now. The piercing frigidness of the blade against your neck contrasts the warmth of his body, and you want nothing more than to melt in his embrace. You want to keep feeling his touch all over you, for him to fully acquaint himself with your body, to give yourself to him completely. Now that you’ve seen his face, you want to feel his lips join the fray and grant you pleasure. Just thinking about it makes you ache for the possibilities.

Seeking to add to your desire, his other hand slowly trails down your side as he hums right in your ear, “Why go back out there in the cold, when I can keep you warm in here?”

His words sound rather intimate, warmed by the smooth, endearing lilt with which he spoke them. His query rolled off the tongue so naturally neither obscure the moment by questioning it. Heat brims right at the surface of your cheeks and your heart flutters rapidly. Both sensations are only intensified as he grasps right where your hip meets your leg, wordlessly requesting to keep going. You arch up against him and grant him access, letting your thighs part just enough for him to slip his hand in your pants between your legs. His fingers find your clit instantly and you whine at the sudden surge of pleasure, whimpering as he slowly strokes your sensitive bundle of nerves. He strokes you at a meandering pace, keeping his focus right in your clit with the perfect amount of pressure to have you moaning in his arms. Already his touch sets your body ablaze. Already you crave more of what he has to offer. Already you’re sinking into his touch. The press of the knife keeps your body tense enough to remain upright, because without it, you would’ve surely melted into the floor by now.

“Besides, I can’t possibly let you go now.” He murmurs right in your ear, his voice sending pleasant shudders down your spine, “You’ve seen me without my mask. How do I know you won’t just reveal my identity to the next batch of victims?”

You halt his motions by grabbing his wrist for emphasis, turning your head just enough to smirk at him, “Because I want you all to myself.”

His eyes widen in shock, stunned again by your words alone. He’s not sure what he expected you to say, but it certainly wasn’t that. You’re just full of surprises.

You surprise him yet again by turning around in his grasp, taking off his mask so quickly he barely has a chance to react. You fit your hand to the curve of his face as the blade rests against the curve of your neck, though there’s not a hint of fear in your voice when you speak, only avid affinity, “I’m the only one that got to see this stunning face. I don’t wanna share this with anyone else.”

You lean in closer, your face so close he can almost feel your mouth against his when you say, “I want to be the only one to ever see you like this, the only one to please you. I want my lips to be the only ones you’ll ever feel against yours. I want my embrace to be the only one you fall into. I want to be the only one you give yourself too. I want you to be mine, all mine.”

He stands there in shock, lips parted to speak but he’s stunned to silence. It’s like you reached into the deepest recesses of his mind to draw out his innermost desires, desires he didn’t even know were present until you brought them to the forefront. He’s never had someone so enamored he inspires such possessive infatuation, though to be fair he’s never afforded himself the chance. But he wants what you’re offering. He wants you to overtake him completely. He wants it so bad, and he didn’t even realize how much until you brought it out of him. He wants to be yours, just as he now wants you to be his. No one else should have you, and he doesn’t want to give himself to anyone else.

“Then what are you waiting for?” He leans in, almost close enough for your lips to touch, “Make me yours, sweetheart.”

When your lips meet, an inferno of decadent desire blazes within you both. Your kisses are messy presses of lips, the slick slide only enticing you more. You grasp the hair on the back of his head, and his knife falls to the floor with a clatter, his hands finding purchase on your ass once again. You fall back onto the couch and pull him on top of you, just as he had done with you not long before. His thighs rest on either side of your hips, his tongue running over the swell of your bottom lip, requesting access to your mouth. You’re quick to pull him closer, grabbing his shoulders while you let your tongue mingle with his. Already, his hips are rolling against yours, grinding against you as he moans into your mouth.

He’s yours. No one else’s, just yours. An avaricious growl deepens your moans as you move your hands down, grabbing hold of the zipper of his hoodie. He nods, silently telling you to take it off. You make short work of the zipper before sliding the garment off his shoulders. He ardently reveals himself to you, and you move to do the same, sitting up to grab the hem of your shirt and tug it off. You discover he was only wearing a simple tank top beneath the hooded sweatshirt that leaves little to the imagination, and the sight of his muscular arms and toned chest has your breath hitching.

“Oh wow…” He emits a low sound of awe at the sight of you without your shirt, his eyes instantly drawn to your breasts.

“Like what you see?” You quip, tilting your head slyly.

“Love what I see.” Is his growled response. You feel his hums against your skin as he leans in and peppers kisses all over your chest, exploring the slope of your breasts with his eager mouth. You sigh in content and arch up against him, loving the soft warmth of his lips against your skin. It’s so easy to lose yourself to him, to let yourself go and let lust take over, to sit back and take in the sensations he gives you. He kisses his way down your body, his lips lingering at your belly as he unfastens your pants. He takes his time tracing the contour of your waist with his mouth, slowly making his way down to your hips, making pleasant rushes flutter through you. He eases your pants down your legs, and you lift your hips to aid the slide. He pauses once your panties are exposed, rubbing your clit with his thumb right through the fabric.

“You’re already so wet, baby.” He stares right at the wet spot in the center of your panties in awe, watching it get even wetter right before his eyes.

Instead of a snarky quip, you confess with a soft sigh and run your fingers through his hair, “You make me feel good.”

He peers up at you with an impish grin that has no right being as attractive as it is, “I bet I can make you feel even better.”

“And how would you do that?” You tilt your head curiously, though you already know the answer to your own question.

He curls his fingers in your panties, not taking them off just yet, wanting to tell you exactly what he means first, “Well, you did make me feel really good when you went down on me earlier. It’s only fair that I return the favor, right sweetheart?”

“Sounds fair to me. Go for it.” You nod emphatically, already clenching around nothing at the thought of him using his tongue on you.

Your approval spurs him on. He shucks your panties down in one smooth motion, kneeling on the floor before you. You turn and spread your thighs, and he’s quick to move between them, his tongue already making its way between your folds. The first drag of his tongue against your folds has you moaning aloud, head tipping back against the couch. He licks at you slowly, taking in the way you taste, letting the tip of his tongue flick your clit before he’s diving back in. His hands grip your thighs as he presses in deeper, his nose brushing against your clit as his tongue laps up the slick arousal seeping from your entrance.

“Fuck, why haven’t we done this sooner?” He rasps out in bewilderment, and before you can answer, his lips latch right onto your sensitive bundle of your nerves. He suckles slowly, drawing out the pleasurable sensations and drawing languid moans from between your lips. You grab onto his hair, pulling it up and away from his face.

How he manages to look so pretty from this angle is beyond you. His full lashes fan out over his cheekbones in the most charmingly coquettish way. The high points on his face glow with a flickering golden amber hue from the fire. His eyes have deepened to a beautifully deep hue of hedonistic want, and when his eyes meet yours, your breath is drawn right from your lungs in a sharp hitch. He hums as he pleases you with his mouth, moving his head back and forth every so slightly, just to make you moan. His tongue runs right over the very tip of your clit, and sinuous sparks of sensual bliss shoot up your spine in surges.

He pauses once more to catch his breath, mouth agape as he stares up at you and earnestly says, “I can’t believe I waited so long to taste you. Fuck, you’re delicious.”

As much as his shameless raving about how good you taste makes you swoon, you feel that aching need for more radiating from your core. You grasp his hair, pressing his face right against your quivering folds, “Then why don’t you stop talking and make up for lost time?”

His eyes roll back before fluttering shut at your commanding tone, instantly obliging with an eager moan. He pulls you closer, tugging your hips to the edge of the couch so you can drape your legs over his shoulders. He increases the intensity, sucking and licking your clit with a fervor you haven’t yet seen. Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you whine for more, your hips arching up against his face. Your nails dig into the couch and scrape along the cushion before you decide to grab onto his hair, tugging the strands of ashen silver for purchase. He grasps your hips with both hands, but makes no moves to stop you from fucking his face. The more incessantly you buck your hips, the faster he goes, determined to bring you to the edge. He moves down for a moment to trace your entrance with his tongue, making you squirm right against his tongue.

“Please, more. Fuck, give me more.” You pant, your thoughts too scrambled to form a coherent sentence, “Wanna keep feeling your tongue.”

He smirks up at you, seeming to understand exactly what you mean. Your eyes roll back before fluttering shut as you feel his tongue push inside you. The wet muscle fits to the contour of your inner walls, stimulating you from the inside. You whine louder, chest rising and falling rapidly as your mind begins to whirl. He licks up your arousal right from the source, hungrily feasting on your essence. He groans at the taste, sending vibrating thrums of titillation right through your core. You buck your hips up faster, all but fucking yourself with his tongue, and he lets you fuck his face with fervent enthusiasm. Pleasure courses through you in intense waves, your thighs trembling on either side of his head the longer you remain immersed in the sensations. Your pleasure quickly begins to mount, that coil in your core tightening with the tension and pleading for release.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum.” You whimper, rocking your hips against his face as you chase your high, “Make me cum baby, please.”

He keeps fucking you with his tongue with a rough groan, the vibrations of which only intensify your pleasure. Bringing his hand towards the apex of your thighs, his thumb traces circles over your clit, driving closer to the edge. All it takes is a few circling strokes of his thumb and another few laps of his tongue before you’re coming completely undone. You cum right against his face, the wet heat of your release flowing right onto his tongue. He laps up your essence eagerly, greedily, taking everything your orgasm gives him. Your eyes squeeze shut as you ride out your high, rolling your hips against his face in time with each bout of ecstasy that rolls over you.

Your eyes meet as soon as you come down, and you’re instantly overwhelmed by the intensity of his stare. He grins up at you, pressing kisses to your thigh that have your heart fluttering in your chest. His lips are completely slick with your release, glistening in the firelight, and his face is tinged with the prettiest pink hue from the exertion. His hair in complete disarray, the silver locks haphazardly strewn about and falling over his face. Even though he looks totally fucked out, he still manages to be so damn pretty, his visage elevating his fucked out appearance to paint the portrait of absolutely wrecked debauchery. You’re ready to move to your knees to return the favor, only to be stopped by a shake of his head, “I want you to fuck me.”

He takes his place on the couch right beside where you’re sitting, making quick work of his pants and underwear. He chucks them aside, revealing his fully hard cock. Your tongue sweeps over your bottom lip at the sight of precum beading at the tip, flowing down the length of his turgid flesh and glinting in the light.

“Did you get that turned on just from eating me out?” You return the jest from before, leaning closer to him. Instead of quipping back, he leans in too, capturing your lips with a searing kiss. Your lips meet in a messy lip lock that’s little more than a tangle of tongues, fully portraying your need for more. You shudder in arousal at the taste of yourself on his tongue and the slick softness of his lips.

Pulling away, he beckons you closer with a sultry stare and a hand stroking his cock, “C’mere and ride me, sweetheart.”

You don’t need to be told twice, especially not in the face of such a delectable display of desire. Straddling his lap, you’re quick to sink down onto his length, hands resting on his shoulders as you ease yourself down. You take him inch by inch, stretching around his girth, moaning all the while.

“Fuck you feel so fucking good, so tight and wet.” He groans, grasping your hips to bring you all the way down onto his dick.

“Only for you baby.” You hum, grinding your hips once he’s bottomed out, “Only for you.”

A pink hue stains his cheeks at the pet name and you grin at the sight. Slowly, you start up a pace of moving up and down on his cock, making you both moan at the feeling. From this angle, his cock gives you exquisite pleasure in a new, impeccable way, brushing against a tender spot you didn’t even know was there. The head of his cock meets that spot every time you bring your hips down, making you shudder and squirm on his lap. His hands roam your body while you set the pace, rolling his hips up to meet yours in search of more friction. Tugging your bra out of the way, he fondles your breasts, his eyes transfixed on the way they move in his hands.

You gasp out a whine when his lips wrap around your nipple, relishing in the radiating warmth of his wet mouth, “Fuck, keep doing that baby. Keep fucking doing that.”

Nodding he keeps sucking on your nipple, letting his eyes slide shut as you pick up the pace. Your pleasure intensifies, making you bring your hips down harder as you chase another rapidly approaching orgasm. He matches your fervent desperation, his hips bucking up to meet yours at the same rapid pace. Your fingers run through the hair on the back of his head before grasping the strands right at the root, pressing his face in deeper. He whimpers out a deep moan at this, pulling back just to rasp before sucking on your other nipple, “Harder baby, fuck me harder.”

You bring your hips down harder in response to his plea, feeling him moan around your nipple. His hands roam your thighs before grasping your ass once more, holding onto you as he feels himself slipping away into bliss once more. You’re quick to follow him into that chase for ecstasy. It mirrors your chases with him across the arena of the trials, with him hot on your heels as you speed ahead. Only this time, the arousal from before is replaced with palpable pleasure that has your head spinning, that has your body rolling with every flare of bliss that’s ignited within you. This time you have each other in your grasp, with no plans to let each other go. This time, you sprint to your final goal of ecstasy as one, working in tandem to bring each other to the edge.

You breathe out that you’re about to cum, your hips stuttering every so slightly as the need for release overrides the attempt at coordinated movement. His thrusts are just as sloppy, simply focused on driving his cock deep inside you over and over again. He mumbles right between your breasts, pressing himself as close to you as he possibly can, “Cum for me, sweetheart. Wanna feel you cum on my cock so fucking bad, please.”

You bring your hips down one final time, crying out in bliss and arching against him. Feeling you clench around him in fluttering pulses has him falling into the abyss of euphoria with you, his release spilling into you in spurts of hot cum. He tosses his head back and you see the ecstasy that overtakes his gorgeous face, his lips falling open to let out cries of bliss. The flickering flames of ecstasy burn much hotter than the fire behind you, bombarding you with a hot white deluge of passion that rolls beneath the surface of your skin in cresting waves. You grind against him, driving the head of his cock against your tender spot, riding out your orgasm for as long as you possibly can.

As you both come down from the precipice of pleasure, your lips meet once more. Your kisses are softer this time, your mouths slotting together in barely there presses of lips as you try to catch your breath. You let your hands curl around the column of his neck and caress him, just as his arms wind around your waist and keep you close. For a while you bask in the warmth of the fire, and the warmth of the sentiment brewing between you.

To say he’s ecstatic is an understatement. In a dull existence of endless trials to appease a dark entity, you’ve given him the perfect respite. You provided more than just stimulation, but true passion and excitement, something to actually get his blood pumping. He can’t believe that he was being pursued by someone as gorgeous as you all this time, and the realization has his face warming. Holding you in his arms like this, sharing in that post orgasm afterglow while you’re still connected in the most intimate way, is something of a dream come true. A smile lifts the corner of his lips, widening the longer he kisses you, and he’s sure you can feel his grin against your lips. He can see himself falling for you already, and he can feel an obsessive affinity beginning to brew. He already can’t envision being with anyone else like this, ever. Already, he feels like you’re the only one that he needs. Already, he wants to be the only one that you ever need.

Little does he know that he already is.

As for you, you’re elated that you’ve managed to snag your own slice of heaven in this hellish world. Even though you’ve already fucked twice, you still can’t believe you finally got him all to yourself after what felt like endless pining. Basking in his undivided attention, his surprisingly gentle embrace, his curiously tender kisses where he smiles against your lips, is better than you could’ve ever hoped. What makes you even happier is that he seems to yearn for you as you yearn for him, that in all of this, he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. You can’t believe you’re intimately entangled with him, savoring the warmth of his body as you lean against the rise and fall of his chest. When you shift closer, and press your chest to his just right, you can feel that his heartbeat is in sync with yours. Just as it should be. Just as it should always be.

There is just one glaring detail that’s missing.

“What are you thinking about?” He gently breaks the silence, his hand meandering over the small of your back in soft strokes.

“Honestly?” You huff out a laugh, “I realized something. I don’t know what to call you besides baby. You seemed to like that quite a bit.”

“It’s Xiaojun.” He says, quietly enough to be hidden by the whistling howl of the wind.

You weren’t expecting him to open up so quickly, “What?”

“My name. It’s Xiaojun.” He repeats without hesitation, quickly adding, “I’ve never told anyone that before, but if I’m yours, I figure you ought to know that.”

“And as much as I like calling you sweetheart, I wanna know your name as well. I want you to be mine just as much.” The very real feeling of his hands caressing your thighs is the only thing that tells you that you’re not presently dreaming. His request, as well as the grin that lifts his lips when he makes it, makes you dizzy with joy. He wants to know you too? He wants you to be his? You can hardly believe it, your mind reeling so much you have to steady yourself on his shoulders. You barely feel your own lips moving as you tell him your name, but the way his eyes brighten tells you that he must’ve heard you. He repeats it to himself, slowly, savoring the way the syllables melt sweetly over his tongue like candy. You smile knowing that he’ll be the only one to know something so personal about you, and you’re the only one who will ever know this detail about him. He really is yours. Xiaojun is really yours.

Up until now, The Entity has been feeding off of the lust and the affection brewing between you both. The Entity has let you be for what it has deemed to be long enough, and now it compels you to reset. That entity implants an image of The Campfire in your mind so intense it’s all you can focus on, making the familiar flame call to you with a shrill, piercing command to return. He sees you grimace, and instantly knows what’s going through your mind.

“The Campfire calls?” He attempts to smile, though a touch of dismay crosses his features.

You sigh once the shrill sound quiets down, mirroring his expression, “The Campfire calls.”

You pull away from each other, gathering your clothes from where they’re strewn about on the couch and sliding them back on. The fabric of your shirt is split over right around your collarbone from where he cut into it earlier, and you smile at the reminder of your time together. Maybe next time, he’ll leave marks of lovebites and hickeys upon your skin. Now you have something to yearn for the next time you see him. You watch as he puts his clothes back on, your gaze lingering on his hands as he zips up his sweatshirt and puts the hood back on.

He grabs his trademark mask from off the floor, but he doesn’t put it on yet. Instead he makes his way over to you, pressing a final kiss to your lips with a vow of, “I will see you again.”

You grab his hood and kiss him as well, whispering your own vow against his lips, “You better, or I’ll fight through The Fog myself to find you.”

#the pup actually types #wayv smut #wayv xiaojun smut #wayv dejun smut #nct smut #nct xiaojun smut #nct dejun smut #xiaojun smut #dejun smut #yandere au #yandere nct #yandere wayv #yandere xiaojun #dbd!au

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yutasbellybuttonpiercing · 1 year

Text

Kinktober Day 28

Pygophilia: the sexual attraction to a human's buttocks.

Pairing: Xiao Dejun | Xiaojun x reader

AU/Genre: smut, established relationship, bottom!dejun (?)

Word Count: 1440 words

Warnings: oral and rimming (m receiving), fingering (m receiving), spit as lube, praise, prostate massage?, cumming untouched?

Taglist: @matchahyuck @seraphinealana @ker00 @allaboutthedongs @baehaechannie @iwannabreathetosetmefree @positionslab @jjenodream @kundann

You've known Dejun for quite some time now, he's been in your friend group since forever, and now you've been dating for almost a year. The relationship goes pretty well, there's nothing much to complain about besides the usual stuff, like him taking his socks off first thing when he comes home and leaving them there. But you don't actually care about that. The whole relationship is pretty conventional.

What you'd not consider conventional is your almost obsessive attraction to one part of his body. There is just something about his ass that sets a fire inside of you. It doesn't even need to be in a sexual way, you just need to touch it. Anywhere, anytime.

Dejun's not bothered by your obsession with his butt, though he finds it kind of funny. You don't think it's funny. You just wish there'd be something that could scratch that itch when it comes to touching his bottom. Of course, it's amazing, it's plush and beautiful every time you get your hands on him, squeezing the flesh between your fingers. It's so satisfying, but I can't ever still your entire thirst.

One time, you're laying in bed together, one thing led to another, and after a heavy make-out session, you find your place in between his spread thighs, licking stripes along and stroking his cock. Dejun whimpers, bucking his hips to gain more friction that you don't give him. Instead, you completely let go of his cock and lick around his balls instead. You know he's sensitive there, and you just love the high-pitched whines that erupt from his throat.

Your hands wander over the expanse of his strong thighs that are so soft to the touch, stroking him up and down while circling your tongue around his balls. Pulling him closer to you, you lift his legs so they're angled, and you suddenly realize that this gives you the perfect opportunity to fondle his ass.

Dejun laughs weakly at this, but then you move your tongue a little too low, licking a fat stripe over his perineum. Dejun's chuckle dies in his throat, immediately replaced with a throaty whine. Of course, your eyebrows perk up at this, immediately creating eye contact with the due to lust lidded eyes of your boyfriend. He doesn't make any attempt to stop you, so you do it again. And again. And again. And every time, he reacts just the same, as if it's the best feeling in the world.

Testing the waters, you move even lower, then decide to lick over his hole. At this, Dejun suddenly sits up, eyes wide as he looks at you still between his thighs, and he's panting heavily.

"Bad?"

"No. Really, really fucking good," he breathes out, and you press your hand to his chest to push him back onto his back to go back to business.

After some time of you testing everything out, getting his asshole all wet and him all needy and whiney, you wonder if he'd let you go a little further. Carefully, without removing your tongue, you circle your finger around his rim. Too lost in pleasure, Dejun doesn't even open his eyes, but continues to bless your ears with his gentle noises of lust.

You circle your finger around his hole until you're satisfied, then gently push against the ring muscle. It slips in easily, and you're glad you cut your nails just the other night, and Dejun groans so heavenly at the feeling of being filled that you believe you've wetted through your panties and onto the sheets with how hot he looks, sounds and feels.

"Feel good, yeah?" Your voice is gentle, you feel like if you speak too loudly or harshly, you'd scare him away and he wouldn't let you near his ass ever again. But he groans in response, nodding quickly while biting onto his lower lip. His hips are circling into the mattress, trying to gain 1) some friction on his cock and 2) more friction in his ass.

Carefully, you ease your finger deeper inside, carefully watching Dejun's face for any traces of hurt or discomfort, but you find none. He seems to be as much into this as you are.

"Baby," you whisper, delivering another kiss to his thigh before you climb up his body, your finger never leaving his hole. "You're doing so well. Would you be so good and turn around for me?"

Hazily, Dejun nods, presses a chaste kiss to your lips while you remove your finger from him. Soon, he presents himself to you, ass in the air in perfect view for you.

"Fucking hell, you're so fucking hot, Junnie," you sigh before diving back in. You don't know what it is exactly, but the scent and taste of him is just so incredibly arousing that you can't seem to stop. His whines and moans only spur you on further to spit on his hole and plunge your finger back in.

With the position he's in now, you can appreciate his ass even more. While one of your hands is busy fingering him, gradually slipping in deeper to force those pretty sounds out of him, your other hand is kneading at his cheeks. Without hesitation, you'd consider this the best moment of your entire life.

"More, deeper," Dejun whines, and it goes straight to your core. Who are you to deny him such a request? Using a little more spit, you push deeper until your whole digit is sat inside him. Dejun pushes his hips back in an attempt to gain even more friction, so you decide to feel his insides up and down a little.

You move your finger around, then decide: why not add another? So you do, spitting on his hole once more before slowly pushing another finger inside. Dejun grabs onto the sheets, his whines now muffled cue to the fact that he's buried his face in the pillows, hips pushing back against your hand.

"So good for me, my pretty boy," you tell him, noticing how his tensed shoulders relax a little at your words, "you're taking my fingers so well. God you look so hot like this, you have such a pretty ass, baby."

"Please," Dejun whimpers, and you understand what he wants. Your second finger is now pushed in to the max as well, allowing you to carefully move them around again. Carefully, you press upwards, massaging his walls from the inside, then flick your wrist a little before turning your hand around completely.

Gently, you press down, and that's when Dejun let's out the loudest moan of the night. You assume you must've found his prostate.

"So sensitive, baby, does it feel that good?"

"Yes," Dejun turns his head to the side, and you notice that he's been drooling. God, what did you do to deserve a boyfriend this hot?

"Want me to keep going?"

"Please."

You do not have to be told twice, fingers teasing around the area before you push down on the same spot again. Dejun flinches, eyes rolling back as a loud moan tumbles out of him. "More, please, keep going."

Of course, you do. After a few more experimental flicks of your wrist, you finally find a rhythm that works for both your wrist and Dejun. He's whimpering, moaning loudly, and rolling his hips deeper into your touch. Your other hand still feels up his ass, but occasionally strokes over his back and thighs in an attempt to calm him. The situation and the new sensation must be overwhelming for him.

"Do you think you can cum like this-"

"Yes, fuck, yes, keep going, ohmygod-"

With a smile, you keep your motion, though increase the pace a little and pushing down a little harder each time. Dejun is incoherently babbling and you swear that you could cum from the sight alone.

Not long after, Dejun's moans have turned much higher pitched, and he's asking you to, whatever you do, just not stop.

"Yes- r-right there, 'm c-" Dejun tenses visibly, back straightening as he groans out deeply, and you can feel him clenching around your fingers as he cums. You stroke him through it, telling him what a good boy he is for you until he calm down.

"I'll be right back," you say, running to the bathroom to wash your hands and get something to clean him up with. Once you return, he's sitting there, on his knees, eyes still hazy.

"Thank you," he says once you're in reach, and he pulls you closer to kiss you, "now let me make you feel good too."

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ericscroptop · 1 month

Text

Good Girls Ride

✧ pairing: bf! xiaojun x gf! reader

✦ genre: smut

✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), smut, p!rn without plot, cursing, cowgirl position, riding, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names, kissing

✦ word count: 3.1k words

✧ synopsis: plain and simple: it’s your first time riding dejun.

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Your head rested against Dejun’s shoulder while your body had found home comfortably in his lap, cuddled into his chest as you guys spent time lazily watching movies together.

Now usually when men watch movies with their girlfriends, it often leads to sex because they can’t seem to keep it in their pants.

But right now, it is you who can’t seem to focus on the television with your hot boyfriend so close to you.

Dejun had his undivided attention on the film currently playing. He’s been raving about this action film that came out recently— of which, you honestly couldn’t give a rat’s ass about.

Though, you agreed to watch this movie when you saw how his eyes lit up in elation when he discovered it had been added to streaming services.

You obliged since he always went along with what you wanted to do and put your needs first 95% of the time.

He perpetually gave you princess treatment and attention. Always allowing you to be the one to choose what to eat when you two were eating out. Letting you be in charge of aux when you were his passenger princess. And, he always ensures that you’re satisfied and reached your climax every single time you two had intercourse.

Dejun was consistently sweet to you. You loved him for that. He took care of you beyond well and you never took for granted his sweet nature.

Though, that’s what should make moments that surround him and his desires a bit more special. Your boyfriend rarely complains in allowing you to pick and choose most of the time. In fact, he encourages it. He loves giving you what you want and no matter what he does with you, he’s just grateful that you’re by his side.

And so, you really want to be able to sit through this 3 hour-long movie with your boyfriend, as he’d been more than eager to show you something he’s interested in.

But this genre of movie isn’t particularly your favorite. And you know Dejun is well aware it’s not really your vibe.

Which is why he has you pulled into his lap. So you could remain still and held securely in his embrace to watch this movie like a good girl.

Not only was boredom beginning to strike your brain, but you also had a habit of having the inability to stay still. You made way too many movements— whether big or small.

You squirmed so much like a worm. You often had to reposition yourself or fidget as long as you were awake and weren’t focused.

It especially was hitting you now that your ass covered by thin leggings rested over Dejun’s lap and crotch, covered in those lightweight, mesh basketball shorts he always wore when lounging around the house.

Not to mention, he was wearing a black muscle tank that tormented you by having his bare arms on display.

His left arm was currently draped over your shoulder, the palm of his hand and fingers occasionally giving you gentle touches over your own arm and shoulder.

Locking in on this movie way out of your taste was already hard enough on its own, and your boyfriend merely existing was making it even harder.

You can’t help the sexual appetite you suddenly have now. Your mind drifts off to the pretty noises your boyfriend made in bed and how his body fit so well against yours. How he loved when you tugged on his hair and massaged it. How he’s just always so good to you and it makes you want to get on your knees for him.

You just love the shit out of him and want to be buried deep inside him for life.

A sigh leaves your mouth while you crane your neck to graze your lips over his neck. Your eyelids shut as you dot feathery kisses over his skin, humming in pleasure as you do so.

Dejun’s hold on you tightens a bit once your teeth begin to nip his neck, sucking in a breath.

“Hey… what are you doing, love?” his eyes are doing their best to stay focused on the movie whilst your lips stuck over his neck like a magnet.

He was too keen on watching this movie for weeks now, but nothing stops you when lust takes over.

“Just obsessed with you.” you mumbled into his skin, continuing in kissing him up and probably leaving a mark or two in the process.

Your body begins to squirm over him, shifting your ass from side to side even within his hold in attempt to stimulate his dick to get him hard.

Your ears pick up on him swallowing hard at your actions, and you bounce over him carefully, but enough to get him to draw out a low moan.

He can feel your lips curve into a smile over his skin. Your dominant hand finds its way into his scalp, massaging it lovingly. Your other hand rests on the back of his neck.

“You’re just always so needy, huh? Always want my attention.” Dejun teases, and you remove your mouth from his neck to look him in the eyes.

“Can’t help myself, Junie. You’re so hot.” your gaze stays concentrated on his pupils, looking at him with bedroom eyes and mouth slightly parted as you grind into him. The both of you hiss at the feeling of each other’s crotch against one another and the friction created.

“Tell you what. Since you’re being all cute over my lap right now, why don’t we go take this to the bed and you can ride me?”

Your movements halt, mouth agape from his words and confidence faded away.

He smirks at your expression, and only reaches a hand down to your thigh to pat it gently.

“Since you don’t want to watch the movie I chose, the least you can do is do what I want in the bedroom. Can you do that for me, pretty?”

———————————————————————————

And so you agreed.

The two of you neglected the movie and headed to the bedroom, quickly discarding all your clothes between heated kisses and teasing.

Now, you sit in front of Dejun. His legs are spread out on either side of you, and his arms are leaned back behind him, holding himself up on the bed.

His eyes sparkled at you in anticipation. Waiting for you to split yourself open and welcome his manhood up inside you.

Though, you can only stare dumbly at his veiny cock and swallow hard.

You’re aching to feel his length inside you, but you’ve never actually rode anyone before.

You didn’t know what it felt like to be on top. And something about sinking down onto his dick just seemed really intimidating.

Taking control in this way was foreign to you. Being pampered and Dejun doing all the work was what you were used to.

The spotlight was on you. Of course you’ve seen explicit content and heard about what it’s like to be on top, but that’s it. You weren’t sure if you could execute the proper skills and avoid embarrassing yourself.

“Jun… I’ve never been on top before.” you look at his eyes with an innocent stare.

“I don’t know if I can do it, babe.” a pout forms on your lips, causing your boyfriend to chuckle.

He knows you secretly just want him to do what you’re used to. Bending you over and fucking the shit out of you. But he wants to challenge you for once.

He saw how eager you were to kiss him up and tease your ass over his crotch just a bit ago. He knows you have it in you to ride him. You can take it for him.

“You can do it, baby. I’m right here incase you need help.” he reassures you, bringing his thumb to your cheek and rubbing it sweetly.

You half smile nervously at him, still a bit hesitant at proceeding with the act of riding him.

But, you trust Dejun so much. He would never hurt you or make you feel bad. If he thinks you can do it, then you believe him.

Your dominant hand reaches for his cock. It twitches at your touch and your fingers begin to lube up his length with his own precum.

Your teeth catch your bottom lip in hold and Dejun feels hot in feeling and seeing you touch his dick and adjusting yourself over him to bring his length close to your pussy.

Cock within your hold, you start to play with the head against your folds to get you wet enough to take him, causing Dejun’s breathing to increase and you whimper at the contact.

“C’mon baby. I got you.” Dejun whispers and brings a hand to your wrist, his touch encouraging you to welcome him in.

And so you do.

He helps you put it in. You align yourself over him well with his aid and his cock head enters your hole. You hiss with eyes shut as you sink down him inch by inch, resting your legs on either side of him, and your boyfriend says nothing but words of encouragement during the process of his length stretching you out.

You let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding once he bottoms you out, prompting you to whine at the feeling of fullness.

“C’mere.” your boyfriend coos and you carefully lean over towards his face to connect your lips with his, each of your hands resting on one another’s body.

You two make out for a minute while you cock warm him. He lets you get used to him being inside you in this way for a moment so you could get comfortable and less tense.

And you do loosen up. Your mouth moved in sync with his own, and you begin to rock your hips back and forth, grinding over him as the desperation to get yourself off waves over you.

Your arms wrap around his neck and his hands feel all up on the curves and edges of your body while you grind over his cock.

Your hips play around with moving back and forth and moving in a circular motion, testing out the waters.

A filthy moan then leaves your mouth at the stimulation of grinding your clit, making a smirk appear on Dejun’s face as you get used to this.

“I wanna feel you fucking yourself over me. You can do that for me, can you, pretty?” his voice low.

You only whimper in response. Your hands let go from around his neck and find new settlement on his shoulders and chest.

Your hips then lift carefully, starting to move up and down over his length. Your moist pussy letting half of his length slip in and out repeatedly, but slowly.

His hands hold your hips securely, and his eyes are gleaming as he watches you work yourself up and down, mouth open while you concentrate and use his cock like a toy.

Seeing you like this is captivating. The sexual passion you have is strong.

He is in awe at how beautiful your entire being is, and dives into your right breast, beginning to kiss the soft flesh.

It adds more stimulation onto you, fucking up your brain at the pleasure being brought to your sensitive areas.

His tongue coats your erect nipple, leaving his saliva and wetness all over your breast and he then starts hungrily sucking hickeys onto the skin as best as he can, and repeating the same with your other breast. “Fucking hell, you’re gonna ruin me.” he mumbled in between attacking your mounds.

You continue to slide yourself and bounce over him, breath hitching as you do so repeatedly.

Evidently though, you’re starting to feel tired. Unfortunately for you, you don’t have good enough stamina and your thighs are starting to burn from this new position.

You sink back all the way down, beginning to go back to grinding yourself over him at a steady pace. You love the way grinding brings so much stimulation to your swollen clit, and it has you smiling. You moan and let free a couple hushed gasps in satisfaction at the feeling.

Dejun mimics your smile and groans at your neediness and desperation.

It’s turning him on in seeing you attempt to get yourself off right on top of him in full naked view, so filled up with his thick cock— working so hard to fuck yourself over him.

Though, Dejun admits that he did like seeing you bounce up and down his cock, watching his cock split you open.

As much as he loves watching you grinding right now, he thinks it’s time for him to take over.

“Love seeing you like this, pretty. But I think it’s time for me to take over, yeah?”

His hands move over to your ass cheeks, massaging them before his fingers start digging deep into the flesh.

You suddenly gasp when he lifts you up carefully over his cock, starting to slide you up and down over his length.

His hips begin to thrust upwards, fucking you at his own pace and to his own pleasure.

“Ahhh— Dejun!” you practically scream at Dejun’s sudden take over.

Your eyes concentrate on his face, watching the hunger that is deeply visible in his pupils as he follows a rhythm within his thrusts. His nails are deeply dug into your bottom as he uses his strength to lift you up and down. Groans and irregular breaths leave his throat at the feeling of your walls stroking his cock.

You can’t help but start to alternate between tightening and loosening your walls at the feeling of Dejun using his cock to his control. It’s sending him into overdrive, and makes him even hungrier for you two to reach climax. His thick brows tighten together and his chest heaved with every plunge.

“Mhm, you like when I have control— don’t you, baby?” your boyfriend grunts as he raises his hips, making him reach inside of you deeper and come in contact with your cervix.

High pitched moans escape your throat at the feeling, and you tilt yourself forward a bit. Practically gripping onto his chest and shoulders to keep yourself steady, trying not to fall over from how fucked out you are from the pure bliss he’s bringing to your pussy with his cock.

The position you’re in allows a fantastic vantage point for your g-spot. It is then that you feel that tingly tension from your clit and your groin muscles contract.

It’s starting to hurt so good. You can feel your climax coming. Tightness is present from your back down to your legs. Excess saliva builds up in your mouth from the immense pleasure coursing your body and your heart rate picks up.

“Dejun… ba-baby I’m…” tears begin to build up and cloud your vision, just like how the pressure of your boyfriend’s cock is fucking you senseless and fogging your brain from any clear thoughts. You can’t even finish your sentence and barely are able to talk.

Dejun can feel you squeeze his shaft and stares darkly at your face. He sees your fucked-out state and knows his girl is on the verge of milking his cock.

A tear manages to slip out your eye and roll down your cheek, and you whine at how full and overwhelmed you are.

This encourages Dejun to keep up his movements. Adding extra emphasis to each thrust he makes and grunting loudly at his effort and in seeing the way your body is responding to him.

Your stomach muscles clench and breasts jiggle at every movement, leaving him aroused times a million and oversexed by your body. You’re like a moving work of art to him, and he can’t help but feel the blood rushing through his cock at this beautiful, lewd scene.

“Let it out, babygirl. I’m so ready for you.” he growls out, and his words cue you to release, immediately satisfying that itch-pain pleasure that took over your body.

There’s a heat increase within your pussy as you cum. Every inch of you trembles at the feeling of your juices coming out and Dejun’s cock still moving inside you.

Your mouth is wide open in relief and from the electric shock rushing your senses.

“Oh my god—uhhh!” you moan loudly, and your boyfriend’s length begins to twitch not only from your dirty noises that are like heaven to him, but also from how his cock feels like it’s swimming inside your pussy. His shaft is practically drowning and overflowing in your cum, all drenched.

His dick starts to feel sparkly, and he continues to fuck you a bit longer as his own ejaculation is coming.

His entire face contorts, and he deeply groans once he lets go. You can feel his dick swell and grow a bit, and it spasms and pulsates with each and every hot spurt.

Your walls can’t help but squeeze over him as hard as you can while he cums inside of you.

The warmth and pressure of his semen reaches your cervix and fills you up, making it feel like your pussy is getting baked from all the heat stuffed inside of you.

After milking himself dry, he lets his body fall back onto the bed. You allow yourself to drop on top of him, chests colliding.

Both of your heartbeats are still racing from the ‘exercise’ and your legs and thighs shake, coming down from your high and the physical activity.

“You did so well for me. I got you, pretty.” Dejun moves his right hand towards your back to calm you down. His fingers come in contact with sweat glistening your spine, and you cringe at the feeling.

“God, I’m so sweaty. Don’t touch me— i’m gross.” you’re quick to say, trying to shift off Dejun but he keeps you secured over him, refusing to let go.

“We just fucked like animals and you think I care about sweat?” your boyfriend scoffs and lets out a chuckle.

He lifts his free hand towards the nape of his neck, feeling his own sweat that drenched it. He removes his hand quickly after coating his hand, and holds it in the air to show you.

“See? I’m sweaty too. It’s normal, baby.”

Rolling your eyes is the only response you give him. You rest your head against his bare chest, pressing a gentle kiss against his skin.

Your lids close for a moment, his cock still inside you. There’s no motivation in you to leave his arms or move your body. You just wanna be stuck in his embrace forever.

“Wanna go actually watch the movie this time now that you got what you wanted?” Dejun whispers.

You let out a sigh, “Nah, I think it’s time for a nap.” You snuggled your head into his chest, trying to win him over with your cuteness.

In response, he huffs out some air and without warning, brings a hand to smack your ass.

You gasp at the feeling, and hiss at the sensitivity you have from the waist down post-sex. “Dejun!” you scold him.

“Always such a brat. You’re lucky I love you.”

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341 notes · View notes

ilwonuu · 3 months

Text

☪︎* focus. x.dejun

summary- your boyfriend comes over to help you study. he is very smart and fucking hot which makes him the perfect person to help with your homework. how does he expect you to focus when he looks so good all the time.

warnings- meandom ish! xiaojun, subby reader???, rough sex, choking, creampie, unprotected sex, pinv, smut with no plot kinda, fingering,degrading, pet names-baby,beautiful,good girl, slut (lmk if i missed anything)

authors note- i cant stop thinking about xiaojun. save me on my youth xiaojun save me!!!!

18+ mdni

30 mins. 30 mins of you thinking of xiaojun fucking you. you should be thinking about the homework problems he is trying to get you to solve. knowing that you will not be focusing anytime soon. “junnie? can we take a break?” he shifts looking at you fully. “a break baby you only did one of the questions.” he says in a slight laugh.

“i know but i can’t focus i just need a quick break.” he smirks at you. “and what is causing you not to be able to focus hm?” he pulls you to sit next to him on the bed moving you from your desk chair. “i don’t know i’m just thinking of um other things.” hoping he doesn’t ask anymore questions as you smile cutely at him. “other things? wanna tell me what things?” he starts kissing your neck softly. “i just want you.”

he tsks “baby you have me. what did i say about using your words? you being a bad girl isn’t gonna get you what you want. tell me what you want.” he rubs your thigh slightly looking at you with an innocent smile. you hate that fucking smile. you know what he is doing and so does he. he knows you’re needy. “c-can you fuck me?” he nods. “see baby being a good girl can get you what you want quicker.” he pulls your shirt off you taking his own off shortly after. removing his own shorts and pulling yours down.

“you want my fingers or my mouth beautiful?” feeling his fingers rubbing on your clothed clit slowly. “i just need you p-please just touch me! do something!” he smirks at you. “baby you’re being really bad huh? i can fucking stop touching you all together hm? leave you here to finger fuck yourself like the bad girl you are.” you feel him pull his fingers away from your panties. “n-no please! i will be good i swear. fingers i want your fingers please.” he praises you with neck kisses. “my good girl. i will give you what you want. since you asked so nicely.” quickly inserting two fingers inside you.

“f-faster please.” he adds another finger watching you as you get lost on the feeling fucking yourself on his fingers. “usually i would punish you for how bad you’re being but im feeling nice so i’ll let you cum and then fuck you till you can’t fucking speak.” he moves his fingers quicker inside you feeling you clench. pulling you into a messy kiss. “i’m g-gonna cum! please don’t stop please please.” not stopping or changing his movements kissing you again. “yea baby? cum on my fingers baby. you’re being such a good girl begging.” his words going straight to your pussy. coming hard on his fingers while shaking. “look at this pretty mess you made. fuck baby you’re so fucking wet.” he pulls his finger out of you. pulling his boxers down to let his dick out shifting to lay you down so he is now on top of you. “you still want it baby?” you have never nodded quicker. causing him to laugh at you. “you know what you need to do baby. i need to hear words.”

“yes! xiaojun if you do not fuck me right now im gonna cry.” he lines his dick up with you entrance. “you want to be a bad girl again? i’ll fuck you like the slut you are. i bet you’ll love that right beautiful?” he pushes his dick all the way in wrapping his hand around your neck slightly. immediately fucking you deep and hard into the mattress. you can’t even form a sentence if he asked you to. you are fucking dumb and he just started fucking you. “f-fuck you’re so wet.” he doesn’t stop his pace slightly choking you harder. “j-junnie slow down i-im gonna cum.” he smiles at you and rubs your clit with his thrusts. “no no i’m not fucking slowing down. you wanted this right? to be fucked like a slut. fucking take it.”

he holds your waist moving one of your legs up so he is fucking you deeper. “junnie im coming!!.” your legs shaking as you cream on his cock. “f-fuck y/n me too just a little longer. you can take it.” he fucks you harder dick twitching as he cums deep inside you. “fuckk baby you feel so good. i don’t ever want to stop.” he pulls your face up to kiss your face all over. slowly watching as his dick pulls out of you.

“lets get you cleaned up and then you’re going back to your homework. hopefully you’ll be able to focus this time.”

#wayv #wayv smut #nct wayv #xiaojun #xiao dejun #nct x reader #nct imagines #nct smut #nct

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galacticseonghwa · 6 months

Note

Can you (if you want to of course hshs) do the pretty boy text you did with dream but with WayV? Pls?

Thank you.

i can do that my love! i hope you like it <3

WAYV reactions to you calling them pretty boy for the first time

INCLUDES: wayv being whipped, expressing my delusions for them tbh, yang yang not escaping the daddy live, this is my first time doing wayv texts so I'm trying to find the right personalities for them over text so it'll be a little bit awkward

#galacticseonghwa #nct #nctzen #wayv #wayv smut #wayv fic #wayv fake texts #qian kun #chittaphon leechaiyapornkul #dong sicheng #xiao dejun #hendery wong #liu yangyang

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markiefiles · 3 months

Text

— JEITO BRATZINHA'

fem reader x xiaojun

avisos: smut, leve femdom, reader é mimadinha e super estilosa — igual uma bratz –, masturbação masc, xiaojun pervertido e virgem, ambiente universitário, dubcon se você estreitar os olhos e outras coisinhas que esqueci.

notas: talvez eu não esteja mentalmente bem depois de escrever isso :( KKKKKK queria que fosse euuu! boa leitura! revisei beeem por cima, então qualquer erro perdão.

Com o ar faltando o peito, Xiaojun afastou-se de ti, os lábios dele estavam inchados, sujos do seu gloss de tutti-frutti. Ele gemeu, sentiu suas unhas decoradas com desenhos e cheias de brilho agarrarem a gola da camiseta que usava. Você estava com o joelho contra pélvis dele, puxando pela gravata, expondo o pescoço cheiroso e o beijando, rastro de saliva e gloss.

Você lhe jogou um sorriso, ajeitou a boina em cima da cabeça e se agachou, Dejun pareceu desesperado, claro: sem ar, fios bagunçadinhos, o óculos escorregando de seu nariz, sem saber o que fazer. Você se pôs de joelhos, preocupado soltou um “O que você tá f-fazendo?”, o cinto dele foi desfeito e você pôde ver a ereção marcante de Xiaojun contra a cueca larga.

— N-não�� — Xiaojun gemeu, seus olhos brilharam contra a sombra brilhosa e as maçãs do rosto iluminadas. Ele gemeu mais uma vez, gostava do jeito que você se vestia, mini saias, camisetinhas justas, ora sapatos altos com laços grandes, ora botas lindas de plástico brilhante e a maquiagem impecável, delineados lindos, de tirar o fôlego toda vez que cruzavam os olhos.

Xiaojun era esquisitinho, virgem, mas o tutor do curso de criminologia era atraente ao seus olhos, atrapalhado mas muito atraente. Enquanto o ouvia murmurar, você o aconselhou “Me deixe fazer tudo, não toque no meu cabelo! Você não sabe quantas horas passei arrumando ele”, mimada.

Xiaojun respeitou, apoiou-se na enorme mesa do escritório e sentiu sua boca no pau dele. Precavido, tampou os lábios, mordendo as palmas, enquanto sentia sua boca quente contra ele, completamente insana. Os barulhinhos molhados saiam de sua boca, Dejun ondulava levemente os quadris, aéreo.

— P-por— Xiaojun chamou atenção, fez menção a um possível palavrão — S-sua boca é– quente, é quente demais.

Aí, você soltou uma risadinha que vibrou contra a excitação dele, Xiaojun tremelicou, ansioso, excitado, não sabia o que fazer com as mãos, ele não podia te tocar. Você se afastou, usando agora as mãos, Xiaojun gostava desse teu estilo de boneca, unhas lindas, dedos cheios de anéis tocando ele.

Você bateu a extensão dele contra sua língua, se levantou, deu uma risadinha e voltou a beijá-lo, agressiva, massageando as bolas, enquanto Xiaojun gemia, não te tocava mas permitia que você fizesse o que quisesse com ele.

— Você gosta de mim, Dejun? — Você sussurrou e um lapso de sanidade pareceu assustá-lo, você era só uma veterana com excelentes notas – diga-se de passagem –, inteligente, mas Xiaojun não tinha esse pensamento, não e não. — Gosta de como toco seu pau?

Ele não respondia, a língua dele ansiosa limpava o doce do teu gloss, os lábios dele estavam presos contra os dentes, roçando contra sua bochecha, cheirosa.

— Hmmm' — Você murmura — Você gosta… Pervertido.

Xiaojun choraminga.

— Aposto que pensa em mim quando se masturba. — Você provoca.

Você passou a estapear a cabeça do pau dele, podia ver o pênis se revirando, formigando e se movendo, a certeza de que ele gozaria somente sendo torturado ou beijado. Xiaojun sentiu sua língua brincar contra a orelha dele, os dentes raspando contra a cartilagem até chegar contra a mandíbula marcada.

— E-eu… — Ele recupera o ar — J-jamais faria isso pensando num a-aluno.

Você caçoa, beija a pontinha do nariz de Xiaojun e sufoca o pau dele, aperta, sádica o suficiente para machucá-lo, mas ele goza, mancha tuas unhas lindas e mela teus dedos.

— Nojento… — Você respondeu, engoliu a porra que escorreu, coletando com a língua, sem desviar os olhos dos dele.

Ele pareceu confuso, o recente orgasmo deixando sua mente completamente vazia, os óculos grandes estavam levemente embaçados, calor demais.

Você se virou ajeitando as roupas, pegando a mini bolsinha majestosa e patricinha, a saia jeans curtinha mostrando a polpa da sua bunda.

— Sorte sua não ter manchado nadinha da minha roupa.

#xiaojun x reader #xiaojun x you #xiaojun #xiao dejun #nct smut #wayv #wayv smut

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sluttyten · 2 years

Text

a taste of you (darling)

summary: xiaojun works at your favorite bookstore, and you have a larger than life crush on him. when fate brings you together outside the store, that crush finally becomes more than just a dream pressed between the pages of unread books, turning instead into your great romance

length: 16,287 words

tags: bookstore au, slowburn(ish), dry humping, penetrative sex, thigh-fucking, spitting and cumplay, tears during sex, fluff, cheesy romance

Honestly, it was kind of ridiculous how often you came to the bookstore. You didn’t even read that much, but it seemed as if at least once a week you were there, leaving with a new book, and that book would just join the growing pile of books you had yet to read.

And it was all because of him.

He was handsome. Like seriously. One of the most handsome men you had seen in person. Clear skin, defined cheekbones, thick eyebrows over his bright eyes, and a smile that often went a little crooked when you were talking to him at the store while he helped you find a book.

His name was Xiaojun.

It took a little while to get that from him. For a long time you only knew him by the name on his nametag. DJ.

He was always helpful, no matter where in the store he was located. If he was in the small cafe section, if he was stocking books, if he was working the register, he would smile and ask if there was anything he could help you find. That’s normally where you got into trouble, where you would ask him for a book recommendation or if he could help you find a section in the store or an author, and you would often end up going home with his recommendation or some random book in the section he led you to. But Xiaojun was always eager to help as soon as you spoke, taking off and you would quickly follow, falling into step beside him.

It was one of those days, as you chatted while you walked to the section you were looking for, you mentioned a book that you wanted that was due to be released soon, but it was a new installment in a popular series, and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to come in the day of release to buy it. You were worried they’d sell out of all their copies, and you refused to buy it from a big retailer like Amazon when you could be supporting an indie bookstore.

Before you left that day, when you were at the register purchasing a book that you knew you wouldn’t get to any time soon, Xiaojun smiled as his hand brushed yours when he handed back your card.

“About that upcoming release,” he says, “If I’m not here on whatever day you come in after that, you can tell whoever’s at the register that I held a copy back for you. Just tell them Xiaojun held one for you.”

In that moment, hearing him say his name, you felt a silly little flutter of warmth in your belly. “Xiaojun,” you repeat, “So not DJ?”

You swear he blushes a bit, ducking his head as he picks at a chip of paint on the countertop. “Ah, yeah. DJ’s just usually easier to pronounce for people. Xiao Dejun, but to my friends I go by Xiaojun.”

You want to ask, “And am I a friend?” but you refrain. Instead you repeat his name again, and he nods at your pronunciation, a somewhat shy but also quite pleased smile pulls at his lips. You thank him, wish him a good day, and you leave the store feeling like you’re floating, running the syllables of his name over your tongue again.

The point is that you find yourself wandering the aisles of that particular bookstore entirely too often. But, it’s worth it to see Xiaojun. Even if it means a stack of unread books at home and too many of the overly expensive coffees that they sell in the tiny cafe at the store.

As summer begins to take the turn into autumn with days turning a little cooler and the leaves starting to fade from green to yellow, it’s even easier to find yourself drawn to the bookstore. There’s something about the autumn that makes you just want to read and snuggle up with a good book (but obviously not one of those that you already have at home), but more importantly, it always makes you long for a partner, someone else to snuggle up with when the nights grow cold, someone to wake you up in the mornings when the windows are edged with frost–a kiss to the tip of your nose, cool fingers dipping beneath blankets, and the promise of warm coffee and a hot shower if you’ll just come out of bed–so naturally, you gravitate toward Xiaojun’s presence.

This particular day isn’t feeling very autumnal. The day is actually still quite warm, bright and sunny, a mild breeze that flutters your dress around your thighs as you walk along the sidewalk toward the store. It’s nice enough outside that the bookstore has the doors open that lead from their little cafe nook out onto a patio. A few patrons sit out at the little tables, some chatting, some reading while drinking their iced Americanos.

You glimpse Xiaojun through the open door as he focuses on making a drink for the couple standing at the bar. He’s wearing glasses today, and they’re slipping down his nose though he reflexively pushes them back up and continues on with what he was doing. His dark brown hair flops down in front of his eyes, not long enough to be able to tuck it back behind his ear, though it’s almost there.

You know you’re staring, so you pull your gaze away and continue on to the doors of the bookstore, stepping inside and heading deep into the shelves instead of right into the cafe. You actually are looking for a book today, one that a coworker had recommended to you. As usual, you spend a long time perusing the shelves, reading spines and judging covers, until finally you find the book you’re looking for tucked on the very bottom shelf at the end of an aisle.

The late summer sunlight shines through a nearby window, draping itself like a lazy cat over your lap as you sink down onto the floor, folding your legs in front of you and arranging your dress so you’re not flashing anything. You pull the book into your lap, flipping it open to read the first page.

Xiaojun finds you like that some time later. Other customers and some employees had passed you by without a word, leaving you content to sit on the floor in the sunlight reading your book, and you’re lost in it, not paying any attention to anything or anyone until you notice the figure just standing in your peripheral vision.

“Oh–!” You jump a little as you catch sight of him.

“I’m sorry,” Xiaojun apologizes as he crouches down beside you. “I thought I saw you earlier, and I figured you must still be around somewhere. I was just coming to ask if you enjoyed that book I held back for you?” His question tips up at the end, a little sound of hope.

How could you break the news to him gently that you actually hadn’t even cracked the spine on it yet? You’d picked it up a few days after the release, and the boy working the counter had gotten this very smug, amused look on his face when you’d mentioned Xiaojun’s name. He’d had a playful grin when he slid the book across the counter to you and told you to enjoy it. You’d taken it home and added it to the top of your pile of unread books. This one you knew for sure that you would read at some point, but you just hadn’t found the proper time to start it yet in the last couple of weeks.

“Oh, um,” you hesitate, lowering your gaze down to the book in your lap as you skim your fingers along the corners of the pages. You avoid looking at him because you just can’t admit that you haven’t started it. “I haven’t finished it.”

Xiaojun sinks down, his back resting against the bookshelf with only an “oh” that you can’t help but hear an edge of disappointment in.

He’s so close to you right now that if he moves just a tiny bit closer, the side of his thigh is going to bump up against your knee. He looks away, back down the aisle toward the rest of the bookstore. A section of hair falls in front of his glasses again, brushed away instantly only for it to flop back.

“You should cut your hair,” you tell him softly.

Xiaojun’s head snaps back around to look at you, his eyebrows slightly raised, and he scoffs out a little sound, amused by you. “Why?”

“You keep messing with it, it gets in your eyes.”

You truly don’t know him well enough to be giving him your opinion on his hair length. You probably don’t even classify as acquaintances. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that. Also, it’s not even that you don’t like his hair long because you really actually do like it this length, but it seems like it bothers him, whether he actually notices it bothering him or not.

Quickly, you try to backpedal, explaining, “I like it this length. It suits you, Xiaojun. But I keep noticing it falling into your eyes, you constantly having to brush it back.” Now it’s your turn to look away, back down to the book in your lap. “It does look nice, though.”

Then he does it. Xiaojun shifts that little bit closer, his leg coming in contact with your knee. If he notices, he doesn’t show it. Neither of you pull away. Your breath may catch a little bit.

He takes a breath, the silence lingering as he opens his mouth as if to say something, and you lift your gaze. His eyes meet yours, something bright deep inside them, and he says, “You–”

“Dejun!” A man stands at the other end of the aisle, wrapped in a cardigan and a stern expression. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the cafe?” You notice his gaze flicking over you momentarily before returning to Xiaojun.

“I’m going.” He groans under his breath as he pushes off the floor, rising to his feet. The other man lingers at the end of the aisle. Xiaojun lifts his hand to push his hair back from where it’s once again fallen in front of his face, and your lips twitch into a smile, bringing a small laugh from Xiaojun as well. “I’ll see you around.”

You do your best to at least pretend to turn your attention back to the book in your lap, but you struggle to not watch as Xiaojun lightly pushes at the man’s arm, the two of them whispering back and forth in a not quite unfriendly way as they walk back toward the cafe.

The summer sunshine coming through the window leaves your shoulders feeling warm, but not quite as warm as the lingering heat left at your knee from Xiaojun’s touch.

The following week, the late summer weather finally breaks. The weather becomes cool, overcast, threatening rain.

It’s your day off, so really, you should stay home and clean or at least attempt to make a dent in that pile of books you own. Instead, you’re navigating around puddles on the sidewalk, holding an umbrella to keep off the light drizzle that’s been persisting all day.

For once, you’re not planning to head to the bookstore. You needed to make a run to the store to restock on groceries, and as you’re on your way back to your apartment from the store, the drizzle finally turns into a steady shower. It’s difficult enough on a normal grocery run to carry all the bags back to your apartment, but today adding the rain and the umbrella and the abnormal amount of puddles along the way, it almost feels hazardous.

You’re in the midst of struggling with one of the bags as it slips down your arm, not paying attention to anything. A stream of rain runs down the back of your neck as the umbrella tips a little too far forward. You don’t even notice the figure stepping out of the doorway ahead of you, right into your path, not until it’s too late.

One moment you’re on your feet with your arms full of your groceries, and in the next moment, you’re rebounding off a man’s body, half of your grocery bags on the wet ground. One of them bursts on its side, sending its contents rolling over the pavement.

“I’m so sorry!” The man says, quickly dropping to the ground to round up your run-away groceries. You do the same, gathering up the bags that you’d dropped, picking up any items that may have fallen out, and as you straighten up again, hefting your groceries back into your arms, it’s then that you recognize him.

Xiaojun is crouched on the ground, reaching for an apple. His hair is pulled back from his face in a little ponytail, a half-up half-down look. He’s wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a shirt that you think must be cropped because when he stoops down to grab for the escaping groceries, the shirt rides up, revealing a good portion of his lower back.

You look up at the building you’re standing in front of, recognizing it as a gym. Sweet bookstore boy Xiaojun goes to a gym? That makes your mind swirl for a moment, suddenly questioning the softboy vision of him you’ve always had, wondering if he’s hiding muscles beneath those sweaters and button-downs he wears at the bookstore.

Xiaojun stuffs the escaped items back into the bag, and then he straightens up, and finally looks at you. His expression melts into a smile, the slight furrow between his eyebrows smoothing over in an instant. “Hi.”

“Hi, and I’m sorry,” you quickly apologize, “I should’ve been watching where I was going.”

Xiaojun shakes his head. “It’s fine. You’ve got your hands full.” He slips the bag he’s holding over his wrist and he gestures at the other bags, “Would you like some help with these? I can help you carry them back to your place?”

You open your mouth to tell him no, it’s okay but thank you. Xiaojun cuts you off before you can get the words out.

“Or at the least let me hold the umbrella for you.”

Do you really look like you’re struggling that much, you wonder. Because, if so, that’s embarrassing.

But you did just drop half of your groceries in front of him, and even now, you can feel the bags sliding and your arm shaking with the struggle of holding up the umbrella.

“That would be great. Thank you, Xiaojun.” You pass over the umbrella to him. His fingers slide unintentionally against yours, sending a light zip of heat through you from your fingertips to your core. He watches you with an amused expression as you rearrange the bags on your arms, and then you reach for the last one that he’s still holding.

“Nope.” He pulls it back away from you. “I’ll carry this one. Your hands are full enough, I’m not trying to add any more to your burden.”

When you try to grab it again, Xiaojun laughs and twists away, bringing the bag even more out of your reach. He lifts the umbrella too, and the way his shirt lifts catches your attention again–revealing a strip of skin, the top of the red band of his boxers, a hint of a trail of hair. You give up the fight over the bag, standing up straight, readjusting your hold on your bags, and you clear your throat, “I live this way.”

Luckily, it’s not too much further to your apartment. A few blocks which pass a lot easier than the first part of your walk had, now that Xiaojun is at your side. He somehow convinces you to give up another bag to him, and he holds both of them in one hand while holding the umbrella over both of you with his other. He keeps up a steady stream of chatter, and for a moment it’s easy to forget that this isn’t normal, that you’re not even friends really with Xiaojun, that he’s barely more than a stranger.

It’s comfortable to walk beside him, to talk and laugh with him, to meet his eye and smile when you both spot a man across the street fumbling his way through trying to impress a woman.

When you reach your apartment building, you linger for a moment at the door. Is this where you part ways, where Xiaojun hands over your groceries and your umbrella now that you don’t need his help?

He hesitates as well, folding the umbrella up while you both stand under the cover of the awning in front of the building. But he makes no move to hand either the bags or the umbrella over.

So you make the move, reaching for the door into the building, already making the apology, “I live up several floors, and our elevator never works. You don’t have to help me bring them up the rest of the way, if you don’t want to.” You give him his out, his opportunity to hand over your things and escape your company, to return to his regularly scheduled day.

“I don’t mind a few stairs,” Xiaojun says, stepping inside behind you.

You feel a weight lift from your shoulders, and you didn’t realize just how much you’d been worrying about his answer. But then a new weight settles in your belly, a nervous weight as you begin to wonder–Is your apartment actually clean? Organized? Ready to be seen by the bookstore boy that you’ve been crushing on?

Xiaojun follows your lead up the stairwell, climbing the several flights of stairs until at last you reach your floor.

You can’t help feeling a little self-conscious about your apartment when you come to stand in front of the door.

Xiaojun looks away as you type in your door lock code, and when you enter your apartment, Xiaojun comes in a few steps. The door swings shut behind him, the lock beeping quietly, and you leave your shoes behind as you walk in. When you glance back over your shoulder, Xiaojun’s still standing in one spot, looking around at your place.

It’s a small apartment, but it’s decent. Decorated to your taste, with artwork that one of your friends has created hanging on the walls. The living room is to the left when you walk into the apartment. There are large windows looking out into the city although the curtains are drawn right now. A few feet further into your apartment, it opens up into the kitchen on the right. Further back, down a very short hallway is your bathroom, and to the left, your bedroom.

You’re at least pleased to notice that it is actually clean right now. No messier than is normal. You do have laundry hanging to dry on a rack in the corner of the living room, but at least there are no underwear, no empty takeout containers littering the table, or bottles of alcohol leftover from when you had a few friends over a couple nights ago.

Currently, the most embarrassing thing to be seen is the obscene stack of books towering against the wall beside your TV.

Xiaojun’s gaze lands on that, unreadable.

“You can come in,” you say, edging back towards your kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Oh, um, just a water, please.” Xiaojun slips his shoes off, leans the umbrella against the wall beside your door, and then he follows you toward your kitchen. “It smells really nice in here, by the way.”

He’s not the first to mention that. You’ve had visitors tell you that your apartment smells comforting and homey. Like warm vanilla and cinnamon, as though you’ve just baked something fresh. Today, that is true. You baked some cookies this morning, which is when you realized that you really needed to make that grocery run.

They’re still cooling on the counter, and when you grab a clean glass to fill with water for Xiaojun, you pick up the tray of cookies as well.

He stands awkwardly beside your small kitchen table. You sit down, stretching your leg out beneath the table to push out the chair across from you with your foot, at which point Xiaojun pulls it out the rest of the way and sinks into it. You slide the glass of water over to him and sit the cookies down.

“You can have one, if you like. They’re what makes the place smell so good.” You pick one up, take a bite, savor the sweet and spice of it.

Xiaojun takes one too, watching you as he tries just a taste of the cookie.

Baking is a small passion of yours, a hobby now for when you’re craving something sweet, or just when you see a recipe on social media and want it for your own. Your friends are familiar with you showing up to see them with a baked good or two. So you hope Xiaojun likes the cookies, they’re a recipe that you’ve tried several times, usually with great success.

He nods a little, then reaches for another.

So, yes, he does like them.

You smile, getting up from the chair to start putting your groceries away. The cold stuff in the fridge, piling everything else onto the counter or into the cabinets. All the while, the rain outside starts to come down a little harder.

The meteorologists had been predicting that this rain was going to drop the temperature, that by tomorrow morning, dawn was going to come in just a few degrees above freezing, only growing just to a mildly decent temperature by midday. Time to break out the raingear and sweaters, the hot autumn-themed drinks.

“These are really, really good,” Xiaojun tells you after he’s had a couple more. “Much better than the few things we sell at the store. Honestly, most of it’s baked by one of the part-timers; I think your stuff would sell much better.”

You feel a flush of heat rise to your face. “Do you think so?”

“Oh, definitely.” Xiaojun rests his hands on your table, his fingers looking like they want to reach for another cookie, but he holds back. “I’ve never asked, but what do you do? Like, I work at the bookstore, but what about you?”

You work as a secretary in a doctor’s office, you tell him. It’s not much, but it pays your bills. “There was a time when I dreamt of being a chef, but I just didn’t have the funds to go to culinary school. So I thought about opening a bakery, but again, not enough money and I’m not sure I have the mind to run a business. So then I settled, and now I bake in my free time when I’m inspired.”

You pick up the cookies, moving them back over to the countertop, and you look out the window over your kitchen sink. The rain hitting the glass makes the world outside look streaky, faded into blue and gray with the glowing specks of red tail lights on the streets below.

“I think, if you wanted, you could sell these cookies in our cafe,” Xiaojun offers. “Just as a little start like towards a bakery. My boss, his boyfriend has a huge sweet tooth, and I’m telling you, one taste of these cookies and he’d be begging you to sell them to him.”

You’re smiling when you turn back around. “I don’t know about all that, but thank you. Right now I think I’m happy to just bake for fun.” A comfortable quiet settles over the room.

When, a few moments later, rain sprays suddenly harder and louder against the kitchen window, the pair of you are jolted out of your quiet.

“I should probably go,” Xiaojun says, pushing to his feet. “Get home before the streets get flooded.”

You don’t know what comes over you, watching him turn to leave the room. But you take a few quick steps forward, reaching out, catching the corner of his sleeve as you say, “Wait!”

A little voice in the back of your mind reminds you that Xiaojun is little more than a stranger, sitting here in your apartment, that you shouldn’t ask him to stay, but you want him here. You want him to stay.

“While you’re here….” You trail off, your hand twisting nervously at his sleeve. Xiaojun turns back, his expression clear, something bright flickering in his eyes. You search your mind quickly for anything that you can say that will require him to stay a little longer.

Xiaojun fully turns back around to face you, and you let your hand fall from his sleeve. The corner of his mouth twitches up like he’s resisting the urge to smile, and your belly erupts with nervous butterflies. Why can’t you think of anything, especially while he’s looking at you like this?

And then you remember.

A few days ago, after you added a recent unnecessary new book to your pile of unread books in your living room, you decided maybe you should buy a bookshelf for them. It was one thing when the stack was just a few books high, but now it’s at risk of toppling over if you don’t split it into two piles at least. So you’d gone out and bought a shelf, and currently the build-it-yourself bookshelf is still sitting in its flatpack box on your living room floor.

You haven’t found the time or energy to build it yet.

And maybe that was fate’s intervention, presenting you with the perfect opportunity right now.

Xiaojun’s still looking at you with a bright, hopeful expression when you ask, “Can you help me build this bookshelf? I know the instructions say it’s easy enough for one person to build it alone, but I just feel like some things are better with two people, you know?”

Xiaojun’s throat bobs as he swallows, and he ducks his head, nodding. “Yeah, I can help you with that.”

Once again, you hear that trace of disappointment in his voice like you’d heard in the bookstore when you admitted that you hadn’t finished reading the book he’d held back for you. But when he lifts his head again, he doesn’t look upset or disappointed in any way. Just very distractingly handsome.

Assembling the bookshelf is an easy enough process. Xiaojun helps you pull out all of the pieces. You read the instructions together. He holds up a board while you try to fit the pieces together. You tease him endlessly when he misreads a part of the directions that has you building the shelf somehow backwards? And he teases you right back when you misplace one of the small pieces even though its just inches from your right foot. Slowly but surely and with a lot of laughter, the two of you put together this new bookshelf.

It’s not heavy or bulky, just big enough to get the job done, but still, you’re extremely grateful for Xiaojun’s help, especially when it comes to moving it across the floor from where you built it. You’re not sure your downstairs neighbors would have much appreciated the sound of you trying to scoot it across the floor by yourself, but at least with Xiaojun, you each take a side, lifting it up a few inches and carrying it over to the wall.

“Now I owe you double,” you sigh, sitting down heavily on the edge of your sofa. “For helping me with the groceries and with the shelf.”

Xiaojun smiles, sitting down in the middle of your floor. “You don’t owe me anything. I’m glad to help.” He sinks slowly backwards until he’s reclining on his elbows, his legs stretched out before him, and you can’t seem to pull your gaze away from him looking so comfortable on your living room floor, like he belongs here.

“I definitely owe you, like, dinner or something,” you tell him, finding your eyes drawn to the tiny glimpse of skin between the bottom of his shirt and the top of his shorts. You look away quickly, looking anywhere but back at him as you say, “The best I can offer is beer and pizza, if that works for you.”

“I told you, you don’t owe me anything,” he says lightly, “I was glad to help today. I mean, in case you haven’t noticed, I like spending time with you when you’re in the store. I leave my assigned position all the time, I possibly take the long way around to whatever section I’m showing you to. Have I been looking for an excuse to see you outside of my job? Yeah, I have. Did I maybe fall a little bit in love with you when I tried those cookies earlier? Maybe.” Now Xiaojun’s the one that can’t look at you.

He’s fully sunken to lying on your floor, his head on the plush area rug, staring up at your ceiling. The gap between his shirt and shorts grows, revealing a defined abdomen, his navel, the trail of hair that disappears down beneath his waistband.

But that’s not what you should be focusing on right now, though your cavewoman brain can only seem to focus on his skin, on the hair, on the slight bulge evident in the front of his shorts. You pinch your thigh, turning your attention instead to the confession Xiaojun is giving you.

“So, you don’t owe me anything,” he’s telling the ceiling, “Just being in your company is honestly more than enough repayment for any favor.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him truly blush, but there it is. The burst of color on Xiaojun’s cheeks.

You slide off the edge of the sofa and scoot over so you’re sitting right there beside him. He turns his head to the side, looking at you once again, his eyes locked in on your smile. “I have that whole stack of books over there, unread, because I buy every book you recommend, Xiaojun. Like, I’m in the store all the time to see you, the books are mostly just an excuse. Seeing you outside of your job would probably be really good for my wallet. But I am buying us pizza and beer tonight, if you want to stay here a little longer.”

Xiaojun’s smile grows wide. “I can do that.”

You order pizza on your phone, and while you wait for it to be delivered, Xiaojun helps you begin to sort through your pile of books.

He’s an expert at book organization, he tells you. By genre, author, title, even the Dewey decimal system, if you want to get really bibliotechnical. As you sort through the stack, Xiaojun teases you over some of them, how he recommended this one to you almost six months ago, how he’d suggested that one only because you’d insisted that you were looking for a light reading to get you through a weekend roadtrip with your friends. All of them still unread.

And then he reaches one particular book, the one that was the new installment in a popular series, the one he’d held back for you several weeks ago.

“This one?” Xiaojun asks, “You told me that you hadn’t finished it yet. Have you started it?”

You reach over, tugging it out of his hands, stacking it onto the pile that you’ve deemed as your Most Likely To Be Read Soonest pile. “No. I just haven’t found the time for it, Xiaojun. I like reading, okay? I promise I do. Just sometimes I go a few weeks without even wanting to pick up a book.”

He laughs, reaching back over for it, which means him leaning halfway across your lap to pull it off the pile. He rests a casual hand right above your knee. “So when you told me you hadn’t finished it….” He laughs again, the sound light, almost with a taste of relief behind it. He doesn’t finish that thought, instead saying, “Ten told me the day that you picked it up. He’s the guy that was working the register that day,” Xiaojun quickly explains at your look of confusion. “He’d been teasing me about holding a book back for you, and it only got worse once you actually picked it up because he said you’re really pretty, and really out of my league.”

You remember the man, the one who had looked so amused as he handed over the book. You’ve seen him around the store, but you didn’t know his name, though now you wonder if his name, Ten, is a nickname like Xiaojun’s was DJ.

“If anything, you’re out of my league,” you tell Xiaojun. This time when you reach for the book, he passes it back over, and you sit it on the pile. “Very handsome, smart, I’m sure you have a lot of secret talents that I have yet to learn.”

Xiaojun snorts. “Something like that.”

The pizza delivery arrives a few minutes later while you’re shelving the books. The rain still pours over the city as you and Xiaojun sit together on the floor, sharing the pizza, drinking the beer that you brought out from the kitchen. You forget about the books for a little while, instead the conversation turns to movies and dramas.

“You’ve never seen Twilight?” Xiaojun asks in utter disbelief. “How? It’s iconic.”

You shrug. You understand that Twilight was a mania that overtook the world for a few years, but you weren’t into it then, and by the time that you could’ve possibly had an interest, the fad was in the past. Over the years you’ve seen clips and memes online about it, but, you shrug again as you say, “I’ve just never seen it.”

The way Xiaojun blusters then, insisting that he’ll have to show it to you some time, going on to talk about the cultural impact of the movies and the books themselves, the whole vampire media explosion. You find it charming, the way he’s so invested in this, so determined to make you understand the totally vital importance of Twilight in the greater sense of the world.

Eventually you cut him off with a laugh as he dives into the influence of Twilight in the creation of the other very popular series of Fifty Shades. You laugh and reach over, stuffing the thick crust of his pizza into his mouth.

“I’ll watch it! You’ve convinced me!” You lean back, watching as Xiaojun smiles goofily around the breadstick. “You’ll have to come over some night when you’re off. We can marathon the whole series.”

“Yeah, right,” Xiaojun chews, watching you like he doesn’t believe you for a moment.

You stretch your foot out until your toes kick up against his shin. “I’m serious, Xiaojun. Next weekend. Twilight movie marathon, drinks, takeout. An all night thing.”

His eyes have that same bright light as they’d had earlier when you asked him to stay. An eagerness, a hope, happiness as his lips form a grin and he says, “It’s a date, then.”

You’re not sure the last time you were so excited for a date. Because this is real excitement, not the jittery nervousness before a date, but the eagerness to see him.

Your friends had teased you when you told them about the date. Movie marathon at your place.

“If you don’t get laid, I swear to God, I’m disowning you as my friend. It’s all right there for you!” Your best friend tells you. “You’ve been complaining about wanting to have sex with a good guy, and this one seems perfect for you.”

She’s seen him before in the bookstore when you’d brought her along. She’d agreed that Xiaojun was attractive, cute in the bookish way, and he was certainly your type. You should be grateful that your best friend is rooting so hard for you to have sex with the guy you’ve been crushing on, but it embarrasses you a little as you’re sitting out in public for lunch. Two old women a few feet away from you keep looking at you both, scandalized.

“Stop,” you whine, covering your face from view of the old ladies. “We’re watching Twilight. Literally what is sexy about Twilight?”

She rolls her eyes. “You’ll get there. And it’ll be the two of you alone in the privacy of your apartment, lights dimmed, comfortable.”

You want to remind her that you actually spent a good part of the other day alone with him in your apartment and nothing of the sort happened. But that’s not for lack of wanting. Your mind still keeps going back to the sight of his abdomen, the bulge in the front of his shorts. In the days since then, you’ve even begun remembering things that you missed in the moment, your brain finally processing the subtle scent of Xiaojun’s sweat, the way that it had felt when his hand slid over your waist at one point when he needed to get around you to take a look at the bookshelf instructions.

“Don’t make me overthink this,” you tell her. “For right now, it’s just me and Xiaojun watching movies. As a date. I have no expectations.”

“Sure you don’t.”

You maintain your lack of expectations. You dress comfortably (but still cutely), and you don’t even shave your legs or put on your sexy panties. It’s just a movie marathon.

And in the end, that’s all that night is.

You eat takeout, drink a little beer, sample a wine that his boss recommended, take a couple shots of soju. There’s also some ice cream involved at some point during the third movie. You and Xiaojun pass the quart container of mint chocolate chip (“You like mint chocolate too!” Xiaojun had cried happily when you pulled it out of the freezer. “Oh God, I think I might love you.” It was a joke, clearly, but a part of you lit up with bright hope at those words) back and forth, legs tangled together under a big, fuzzy blanket.

You pass out somewhere towards the end of the fourth movie. The ice cream container sits nearly empty on the floor, melted to the point where you might as well just drink it. Xiaojun keeps trying to nudge you awake with gentle knocks of his foot against your hip. You manage to just barely hold on to consciousness until the very end, and as soon as the credits begin to roll, you shut your eyes, immediately well on your way to dropping off.

“We have just one movie left! You can’t give up on me now!” Xiaojun sits up, tugging on your arm lightly. “Wake up.”

You groan and try to turn over, to bury your face in the throw pillow beneath your cheek. It’s already after three o’clock in the morning. To finish Break Dawn Part 2 would put you after five o’clock, and although you don’t have any plans for the day, you also don’t want to sleep the whole day away after falling asleep that late in the morning.

“Xiaojun, we can just finish it in the morning,” you groan, tangling your fingers with his. However, despite your protests, you do sit up, throwing your legs over the edge of the sofa. You tug lightly on his hand, “Come to bed.”

“To bed?” His voice only allows the slightest hint of alarm. “I can stay on the sofa.”

But you’re already standing up on unsteady, half-asleep and lightly buzzed feet. One hard tug on his hand, and Xiaojun rises to his feet and follows. He stumbles through your apartment, unfamiliar in the dark. His body bumps against yours. He doesn’t protest again.

Your bed isn’t huge, but it isn’t tiny either. It’s just the perfect size for you to collapse onto, squirming your way under the sheets, leaving just enough room for Xiaojun too. You’re already comfy beneath the blankets, savoring the coolness and the softness of them against your skin when Xiaojun sinks down beside you. Just sitting on the edge of the bed, not making any move to get beneath the covers with you.

“Xiaojun,” you sigh, reaching for his hand. “Lay down.”

It’s quiet for a long moment until he finally asks, “Are you sure?”

“We’re just sleeping,” you mumble. “Sure, I’m sure.”

Xiaojun exhales deeply, and you peer through your eyelashes at him as he rakes his fingers through his hair, obviously waging an internal war with himself.

“Just sleep with me. It’s too late or too early for you to go home. You can sleep out there on the sofa if you really, really want to, but just know my bed is a thousand times more comfortable,” you tell him. “Plus, I really want you in here. I sleep better when I’m not alone. Be the Edward to my Bella, stay here beside me at least until I’m asleep.”

That draws a little laugh from Xiaojun. “Alright,” he sighs around a smile. “Just a small warning, I have been told that I often sleep with my eyes open.”

He reaches down, drawing his hoodie up over his head, letting it fall to the floor before he’s moving, sliding beneath the covers at last in just a cutout tanktop and his basketball shorts. He lays his head on the pillow beside yours, and you catch his eyes glinting in the dark, watching you as your heavy eyelids begin to sink shut again.

“Good night, Xiaojun,” you murmur, and you’re already drifting off by the time that he whispers his reply.

You enjoy waking up slowly on any given Sunday morning. No alarms. No rush to be anywhere or do anything. Just dreaming until your brain can’t take any more sleep, until your stomach growls demanding food.

On this morning, you wake up slowly, savoring the feel of Xiaojun’s arms around you, his soft breath against the back of your neck, and your ass pressed firmly back against his front.

You shift a little as you wake, subconsciously rolling your hips back a little.

Xiaojun’s arm around your waist tightens, and he hums sleepily. And then you feel his head move, and feel the lightest brush of his lips against the side of your neck. Maybe, in response, you lean back into him even more, turning your head towards him.

He’s not really awake, just reacting to you moving.

You could slip out of his arms, leave him sleeping for a little longer. But instead you maneuver yourself around until you’re on your other side, facing Xiaojun now, and you snuggle in to press your face against his chest, slide an arm around him. Again, he reflexively moves to hold you—an arm over your waist and his hand smooths up the length of your spine until he rests his palm between your shoulders, and the other arm curls around behind your head, his fingers lightly knitting through your hair.

You could probably fall back to sleep like this. Your nose filled with the subtle scent of Xiaojun, his warm chest and the quiet of his breathing, the beat of his heart beneath your cheek.

It’s some long time later, or so it feels, when you’re pulled out of the light sleep you’ve fallen in.

Xiaojun presses a kiss right to the top of your head. His hand on your back moves in a slow, comforting back-and-forth. His fingers leave your hair to lightly trace the shell of your ear, the line of your jaw, over the softness of your cheek. You squirm a little then as it tickles slightly, and you press your face more against his chest, feeling a small smile rise to your lips.

“Are you awake?” Xiaojun asks, keeping his voice at a whisper. His fingers lift from your cheek, his hand on your back goes still.

“Mhm,” you confirm, but you don’t lift your face from his chest. Beneath his shirt, you can feel the pick-up in his heartbeat.

You don’t know what comes over you, but you impulsively press your lips in an unmistakable kiss right there against his clothed chest. He inhales sharply, and you do it again just to hear him make that sound again. Xiaojun’s hand on your back resumes that comforting motion, his other hand returns to your hair, and you sponge kisses higher up his chest until you feel the edge of his top beneath your lips, met with warm bare skin.

Xiaojun’s breath sounds a little more ragged, a little desperate when you stop there.

But that’s not the end.

Boldly, you reach for the edge of Xiaojun’s shirt. He tenses for a second out of surprise, relaxing instantly. He doesn’t tell you not to, doesn’t make any sign of denial. So you slip your fingers beneath his top, and his belly flexes beneath this new touch, and a fresh, soft gasp falls from his lips.

Every tiny part of you is tuned into Xiaojun’s breathing as he struggles to keep it steady while your fingertips trace along his waistband. The way Xiaojun shifts when you spread your fingers and feel the soft texture of hair beneath his navel, when you slide your hand up over his abdomen, feeling the evidence of defined muscles.

You scrape your nails lightly over Xiaojun’s stomach. His hands both in your hair and on your back, curl and clutch at you as he lets out the smallest hint of a moan.

Now you press another kiss, this time on bare skin, his throat warm beneath your lips.

Xiaojun all but melts against you as you start kissing his neck. You feel like a scene from Twilight, the way he tilts his head to expose his throat a little more to you as you take your time to kiss his throat, sucking lightly when you reach a spot that makes him finally break and truly moan.

“Fuck,” he stutters out, the word drawn out on a sigh. He rolls his hips forward, and you feel the weight in his shorts, that indefinite bulge you’d glimpsed last week in his shorts now clearly the shape of his dick against your leg.

You smile against his throat, skim your fingertips back and forth along his abdomen at the edge of his shorts. You ask, “Should I stop?”

“N-no,” he gasps, rolling his hips against you once more, lingering a moment in the friction.

You’re so glad that was his answer. You don’t want to stop, but you didn’t want to get too carried away, not if it wasn’t what he wanted. Everything about him right now from his hands on your body to your hands on his, his soft moans and gasps, the uncontained need for him to get some friction on his cock, all of it has you burning up from the inside out. You can feel your pussy growing wet, getting your panties damp.

It’s Xiaojun that makes the next move. His hand slides down the length of your back, over your ass, hooking your leg and dragging your thigh up over his hip.

You kiss his throat again, sucking on the spot until Xiaojun moans once more, rocking his hips forward, tipping you backwards until you land on your back with him above you, his hips slotted perfectly between your thighs so the next time he grinds forward, his bulge rubs right against your clit through your leggings.

Your fingers twist in the waistband of Xiaojun’s shorts as he starts rocking against you. He holds himself above you, looking down at your face for the first time all morning, his gaze lowering as he sees the shirt you fell asleep in riding up on you, revealing your belly.

This feels hot and rushed, the way that Xiaojun is dry humping you, both of you fully clothed as he thrusts forward against your pussy again and again. But you can’t deny that it’s working for you; your pussy is soaking your panties, your nipples are hard, poking up against your shirt.

And when you tug at the edge of Xiaojun’s shorts, he understands what you want without a word needing to be spoken. He nods, reaching down with one hand to help you shove his shorts down, slipping them beneath his ass, revealing his cock.

Your first instinct is to reach for it, to feel the weight of Xiaojun’s cock in your hand, but instead you bring your hand up to the edge of your shirt, pulling it up over your tits.

Xiaojun thrusts forward against you again, his eyes burning at the new feeling of your leggings against his bare skin. “Fuck,” he moans, “you’re so pretty, darling.”

A shiver runs down your spine at the compliment, and another when Xiaojun lowers himself over you to drop a kiss between your tits. He lifts his head just enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath fanning over your nipples, and you arch your chest, a small whine escaping your lips.

Xiaojun catches your eye for a moment, and then he lowers his head again, this time closing his lips around a nipple and grinding his cock in a slow circle against your pussy.

Your hands fly to his hair, thighs squeezing on either side of his hips. “Xiaojun,” his name falls like a sigh.

You’ve never been one for nipple play or tit worship or anything like that with any previous partners, but Xiaojun must just be doing it right. Fire burns along your spine, you can taste the pleasure of it all on your tongue. Your heart is racing, breath catching in your throat from the sweet feel of him grinding against your clit and his warm lips on your chest.

But you love this. If you thought you were wet before, it’s nothing to right now when you can feel your wetness gush out to stick your panties to your pussy.

“Xiao—“ you start, but then Xiaojun pulls his mouth away, nipping at the underside of your breast, sufficiently distracting you for a second. His hot lips and tongue move over the sensitive skin of your chest, your tits and sternum and ribs.

“Jun,” you whine, twisting your fingers, tugging on his hair. “I need you.”

His teeth scrape your ribs beneath your breast, a sharp inhale, and a laugh. “You need me?”

You whimper, nodding. “I do.”

“What part of me, darling? Tell me.” His lips trail light kisses down your belly.

Again, that shiver down your spine as he calls you darling.

“Give me your cock, Xiaojun. I need you inside me. Just fuck me.” You tug on his hair again, rock your hips off the mattress to meet the thrust of his own. “Wanna feel you inside me when I cum.”

There’s no more teasing, no more argument from him. His eyes gleam with bright desire as he moves back from you just a little, just enough that you manage to flip yourself over onto your belly, and you lean over to the side of your bed, reaching for the small table beside the bed where you keep things for times like these.

Just as you’re fishing a condom out of the drawer of the table, you feel Xiaojun’s fingers twist in your leggings, and he pulls them down, panties and all, to below your ass.

Your shirt is still bunched up at the top of your chest, your leggings tight around your thighs. Xiaojun too is still wearing his top and his shorts are twisted around his knees, and it feels so good to know that both of you need this so desperately that you don’t even care to undress.

You toss the condom at him over your shoulder, and Xiaojun is quick about putting it on. A hand kneads your ass, and you try your best to spread your legs apart, to lift your ass off the bed, to tempt him to hurry to fuck you, you just want to feel Xiaojun buried inside you. You want to feel him in your belly, to turn your legs to jelly so when tomorrow comes you’ll be grateful you spend your day working behind a desk in a chair.

He slides his fingers down between your legs, and the electric zip you feel along your spine transforms into a needy whine, bucking your hips back, trying to get some contact with your clit as Xiaojun glides his fingers through your wetness.

“So pretty.” Xiaojun murmurs. “You smell so good, darling. Do you taste sweet?”

You’ve never tasted yourself and you’ve never thought to ask any previous partners. Not that you think Xiaojun’s expecting you to give him an answer directly.

You look back over your shoulder in time to see him lifting his hand from between your thighs, his gaze intent on the glistening wetness coating his fingertips, and you watch him bring his fingers to his lips and get a taste of you.

You never thought it would be so hot to watch a man tasting you on his fingertips instead of the more traditional way of just eating your pussy. But Xiaojun’s eyes close, his fingers hanging on his lips.

“Sweet,” he confirms after a moment, and his fingers fall down to your ass, his slick fingers slide over the round muscle.

“Please,” you beg, “Xiaojun.”

You reach back behind you, your hand searching for the hard length of his cock. He moans lowly when you find it, your hand closing around him, giving a few strokes before you lift your hips from the bed and guide him forward by his cock.

Xiaojun’s hand grips at your hip, his other hand nudging yours away from his cock. “I’ve got it, darling. I’ll take it from here. You just lie there and enjoy, okay?”

Somehow the cocky confidence acts as more of a turn on than anything else. You love his certainty that he’s got it all under control, that he’s gonna fuck you well without you having to do anything. A promise through other words that he’s gonna treat you like a princess, give you everything you need.

And when you feel his tip between your legs, dipping into your wetness and drawing down to your clit for an instant before coming back to your entrance and smoothly pressing into you, you know that there’s some truth in his words. You’ll lie here and enjoy everything that Xiaojun’s about to give you.

Xiaojun feels perfect. Maybe it’s because you’re coming off a dry spell or maybe it’s just that his cock feels spectacular, but either way, the feel of him sinking into you, fills you flawlessly.

He starts out with shallow thrusts, working his way in deeper with each move. You sink your face into the sheets unable to lift your head for the first few moments, too overwhelmed by the sensations. It’s all coordinated and smooth, angling just right to give you the most pleasure he can in the moment (and it’s working).

But soon, as you’re grasping at sheets, lifting yourself on your elbows because it changes the angle just enough that you can feel Xiaojun in your belly with each deep thrust, you can feel yourself unraveling. Xiaojun is pressed against your ass, thrusts unrelenting right to that spot inside you that makes you feel like your nerve-endings are on fire (in the best possible way), and he wraps an arm around you to your tits, his chest against your back, and when you feel him lower his head to your shoulder, he bites down lightly.

Your orgasm is liquid fire in your veins, toes curling, pussy clenching tight and gushing a little around Xiaojun as he keeps thrusting into your tightening heat. You fuck yourself back onto his cock too now, the best you can when you feel like your bones are liquefying as he’s still fucking right against your G spot.

Xiaojun bites down on your shoulder again as he cums. His hips snap forward, a hard smack of hip bones against your ass, and he stays there, flooding the condom as your pussy continues to quiver around him, milking him dry.

He sinks over you, his mouth still fixed at your shoulder, though now he presses soothing kisses and his warm tongue against the marks left by his teeth.

After a moment in which the two of you catch your breath, Xiaojun withdraws from you. You turn your head to watch him slide off the edge of your bed, dragging his shorts up, straightening his top, dropping the used condom in the wastebasket in the corner of your room. You roll over as well, dragging your shirt down over your tits, and you just push your leggings and panties the rest of the way down your legs; the shirt is big enough that it covers everything when you sit up too.

“Breakfast?” You ask, running your fingers through your messy hair, doing your best to comb it with your fingers, but you just end up tying it back out of your face. “I’ve been craving pancakes and waffles, if you’re interested.”

Xiaojun trails you into the kitchen, and he does his best to help out as you grab the ingredients out of your cabinets. He measures ingredients out and mixes them together, while you slice up some fresh fruit to top them with. You connect your phone to a speaker, playing music quietly, and it’s nice to work side by side with Xiaojun like this. Especially when he starts singing along to the songs.

“Can you do everything?” You ask, sidling up beside him to watch him slide a pancake from the pan to a plate beside the stovetop. “Smart, handsome, good at making pancakes, and you can sing?”

“Flattery, darling, will get you right back in that bedroom, if you keep it up.” Xiaojun pours another pool of pancake batter into the pan, smiling as he glances sideways at you.

“Is that a promise or a threat?” You slide a little closer, wrapping your arm around his waist. “Also, we still have a movie to finish, or did you forget about that?”

Xiaojun turns around, his back to the stove so he’s facing you instead. “I didn’t forget, you’re just doing a really good job of distracting me.” He lifts a hand up, letting it brush along your shoulder where the neck of your shirt has slipped a bit, revealing a good portion of your collarbone and the top of your shoulder, including the sensitive spot where he’d bitten down on your shoulder. “Sorry about that.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” You laugh, touching your fingers lightly to the red mark on his throat. “This won’t cover up as well as my shoulder does. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

“Don’t be.” His hand comes up to cover yours as he holds your gaze. Xiaojun clears his throat, then says, “You know, I still haven’t actually kissed you.”

All that, and not even a simple peck on the lips.

“No, you haven’t.” Your gaze lowers to his lips, the ones you’re so familiar with pressed against many places on your body, but you haven’t yet felt them against your lips. “Will you?”

Xiaojun dips his head, lowering his mouth to yours. The kiss is slow and sweet, gentle in a way that the sex earlier had not been. He draws you in, your body resting against his as you kiss him back, your hands twisting in his shirt. And it’s slow, not rushed in the slightest, just a nice lengthy kiss that you forget to keep short.

The pancake burns, but you kiss Xiaojun for a little while longer.

After that day, you can’t seem to spend a day apart from Xiaojun. It’s young, new love. The honeymoon stage of seeing nothing but good in each other, wanting constantly to have his hands on you or yours on him, wanting to kiss him, to hear him laugh, to have him beside you wherever you are.

You find yourself staring down at your phone while you’re at work, all giddy because Xiaojun messaged you. Your best friend teases you when you admit to her that you did get laid on your movie marathon date, and you don’t even have it in you to actually feel embarrassed.

Xiaojun tells you that his coworkers tease him when he comes into work with the undeniable hickey fully visible on his throat. For the rest of the week, weather permitting, he wears turtleneck sweaters into the bookstore.

You’re happy.

You go out on lunch dates with Xiaojun. He drags you along to see a new movie he’s been dying to see. You bake with him at your apartment, laughing and singing along to music together, creating a mess when he accidentally flings batter onto you, though he cleans it off with his mouth, leading only to you helping each other clean off in the shower. You visit him at the bookstore (avoiding his coworker Ten who just smiles in an amused way every time he sees the two of you together), and he picks you up from work some afternoons as the autumn days grow shorter and night arrives near the time you’re clocking out.

It’s not too long before Xiaojun starts sleeping over most nights. Eating dinner together regularly. He has a drawer to put his clothes in, a few toiletries in the bathroom, and some of his favorite foods stocked in your kitchen. Nights when you both sit on the sofa together, your feet in his lap while he watches a drama and you read one of your many unread books.

It’s a night just like that when the show that Xiaojun had been watching ends, and he looks over at you.

“What are you reading?”

You lift the book to show him the cover, and Xiaojun hums knowingly. “That’s a good one. I haven’t read it in a long time.”

It’s one that he once recommended to you, back in the early days of your crush on him. You still remember the gentle smile on his face as he’d lifted the book down from the shelf at the store and handed it over to you. That was months and months ago. It’s about time that you finally read it.

Xiaojun moves suddenly, leaning onto his side over your legs until his head rests in your lap. His cheek rests on your bare thigh while his body blankets the length of your legs. “Can you read to me?”

Your hand drifts down to your boyfriend’s hair, and you brush your fingers gently through his long hair. “Really?”

“Mhm,” Xiaojun nods. “You have a nice voice. And I like this book, read it to me.”

So that’s what you do that night. You play with Xiaojun’s hair and read to him until your throat feels dry, until you finish an emotionally brutal chapter that leaves tears swimming in your eyes.

Xiaojun looks up at you from your lap, blinking slowly. He lifts a hand, fingertips light on your cheek.

You close the book, pushing it aside, and Xiaojun’s touch draws you in until you’re leaning down, contorting yourself slightly as he lifts his head, to meet you for a kiss. Xiaojun’s thumbs stroke soothing circles on your cheeks.

It’s just a simple kiss. A simple kiss of comfort because there are tears in your eyes. A simple kiss on a simple night.

But when Xiaojun pulls back slightly, the night takes a turn from simple to spectacular.

“I love you,” he confesses, his lips sealing the words against yours in the next instant.

And you love him too. You put the meaning into the kiss, and the moment you pull apart again, you repeat the words to him, pulling him up from your lap to kiss you properly.

That night, you pull each other apart tenderly on the sofa. Hands and mouths exploring each other’s bodies, whispering love confessions into the crook of Xiaojun’s neck, while he leaves his words against your rib cage, into the space between your thighs in the moment before Xiaojun dives in to taste you and bring you to a spine-cracking orgasm on his tongue.

“I love you,” you tell him again when you curl up against his chest, his arms wrapped around you, the book long forgotten on the floor.

The reading part of that night becomes quite a regular event. Xiaojun lays his head in your lap and you read to him—in bed, on the sofa, on a blanket during a picnic one sunny and unseasonably warm autumn day. Sometimes the situation reverses if you’re feeling too tired, and you press the book into Xiaojun’s hands, compliment his reading voice, and you lay on him for a change while he reads to you.

Xiaojun has to work on the day of the first snow. It’s mid-November when the meteorologists predict snowfall, and it begins overnight. You wake in the morning to Xiaojun’s legs tangled with yours, and all of the blankets piled on top of you since your boyfriend pushed them off of himself in his sleep. His arm is stretched above your head on the pillow. You don’t want to move. You can already tell that it’s too cool outside your nest of blankets, but when you blink your eyes open you can see the snow piling on the ledge outside your window, a gray sky outside. You definitely don’t want to get out of bed.

Xiaojun makes a soft sound when you turn around and curl against his chest. His arms surround you, his face tucking into your hair.

“It’s snowing,” you whisper.

You’re not even sure Xiaojun’s awake, and the longer the silence stretches, the more you think that he must still be asleep. But then he breathes in deeply, sighing out, “I have to go to work.”

It’s your day off, so you have no reason to leave bed today. You could stay buried in the warm blankets, reading and watching the snow fall.

“Come to work with me.” Xiaojun kisses the top of your head. “I’ll give you free drinks.”

Now, that’s tempting. Sitting comfortably in the bookstore, sipping warm drinks from the cafe, tempting Xiaojun into sneaking away from his responsibilities for a few moments.

“Or we could stay in bed,” you suggest, managing to roll Xiaojun onto his back beneath you. “You could call in sick or absent due to inclement weather. Tell your boss that you have to take care of your girlfriend, she’s got a cold.”

Xiaojun smirks, his hair feathered around his face, a shiny pink halo. “I’m pretty sure Kun would call me a liar. He knows all my tells.”

You sit on Xiaojun, moving your hips in slow circles over him, and you can feel him reacting. “As if he’s never called out sick for similar reasons. Wasn’t it just a few weeks ago that he called the store to say he was running late, his car broke down or whatever, and he and Ten showed up twenty minutes later looking like—“

Xiaojun sits up suddenly, his hand cupping the back of your neck, and he cuts your words off with his lips.

You’ll allow it. You don’t often like it when Xiaojun cuts you off, especially on the few occasions when you’re arguing with him about something, but this is the only way that you ever accept.

You bring your hands to his hair. Ever since he dyed it pink recently, bright like cotton candy, you haven’t been able to keep your hands to yourself. It’s long and pretty, and it was a totally unexpected change, one that you didn’t think you were going to like on him when he told you what he was doing, but you love it. You love the bright, soft and typically feminine color on your boyfriend with his muscles and generally masculine energy. It’s a nice contrast. Plus it just looks pretty on him.

Xiaojun moans softly when you tug on his hair. You grind yourself down on his growing bulge. He rests a hand on your tailbone, urging you to keep moving.

“Fuck, I can’t be late,” he moans against your lips.

You’re not sure if it’s an invitation to keep going, but to make it fast. Or if he’s telling you that this needs to stop but he doesn’t have the strength to do it alone. Either way, your mind was already made up. For a few more minutes you kiss him, touch him, moving in teasingly slow circles on his dick. And then, abruptly, you pull away.

“What?” Xiaojun whines as you slide away, stepping off the bed and walking away. “Where are you going?”

“You’re right.” You don’t even bother to turn back around to look at him. “You can’t be late. I’ll come to work with you.”

It’s a strong possibility that Xiaojun glares daggers at you as you dress, pulling on leggings and a sweater, a coat and scarf and boots. Eventually he gets up to get dressed too, layering up just as much as you.

The snow keeps falling, thick and heavy and wet. The snow seems to be freezing when it meets the streets, turning to slush only to refreeze again and again, marking the streets dangerously slick.

You and Xiaojun just barely make it alive to the bookstore, wind-battered, chilled to the bone.

The store is empty of customers. Only Kun, Xiaojun’s boss, is there.

“No one else is coming in today,” he says. “The weather’s too bad. The part-timers have all called in.”

Kun explains that he’s not expecting to be too busy at all for the day, so if Xiaojun could just man the cafe and the register, that would be terrific. Kun would stock the shelves and work the floor if anyone actually came in.

So for the first part of the day, you set up in a corner of the cafe, looking through the window out onto their patio at the accumulating snow, the way it blows up against the glass and covers the tables and chairs sitting out there. Xiaojun works behind the counter, making you free drinks, bringing you pastries, occasionally kissing you and letting his hand slide up your thigh.

“I want you,” he complains softly in the seat beside you. “I keep thinking about this morning. Maybe we shouldn’t have left bed.”

You know that. You’ve had a throbbing need for him pulsing between your legs for the better part of the last hour. Each glide of his fingers along the seam of your leggings at your inner thigh makes you itch to grab his hand and bring it right to your core.

You could always sneak away, go take care of yourself in the restroom, send Xiaojun clips to tease him. Leave him desperately hard behind the counter in the cafe, serving the only customer that has braved the blizzard outside to drink coffee in the bookshop.

Xiaojun watches you through his eyelashes as he helps the customer. You do your best to pretend like you’re ignoring him. He likes when you do that sometimes, when you’re reading by yourself in bed or on the sofa and he moves like he’s going to lay on your lap, but instead spreads your legs and starts touching you while you continue reading. Sometimes he does that when you’re reading aloud to him, turning his head where it rests on your thigh to kiss at it, eventually moving around to eat you out so he can hear you gasp and stumble over the sentences you read aloud, overwhelmed by the pleasure.

But in the present moment, Xiaojun is across the room. He’s in the middle of steaming some oat milk for a latte, his gaze tracking you as you gather your things and then stand up and walk out of the cafe section of the store. You glance over your shoulder as you climb the stairs to the second floor of the store, and Xiaojun is just barely visible through the doorway. His eyes are on you, and you smile, turn away and hurry up the rest of the stairs.

You know he’ll follow as soon as he can.

This is something else you’ve thought about: Xiaojun finding you among the shelves, touching and kissing you there where anyone might happen to see or hear, catching a glimpse between a gap in the shelves of his hand wandering under your clothes.

The store is nearly empty. Only nearly empty because you know Kun still prowls the aisles somewhere, Xiaojun had mentioned that Ten was likely coming in at some point, and there are at least a couple customers roaming freely. But you don’t pay any mind to any of them as you weave your way through the many shelves to find a favorite little nook of yours. Fittingly it’s in the romance section of the store. The shelves here form a smallish rectangle against the wall, enclosing an armchair backed up against the window set into the wall, and it’s just a perfectly cozy little space.

You don’t have to wait long before you hear the tell-tale sound of footsteps over the store’s carpeted flooring. And then in a hushed whisper, your name.

You sink into the armchair, spread your legs, and wait for your boyfriend to turn the corner.

Xiaojun freezes when he spots you. He steadies himself with a hand on the bookshelf, the other hand over his heart. “I only have a short break, darling, we can’t be long,” Xiaojun says quietly as he moves quickly into your space, sinking to his knees, his hands racing once more over your thighs. “And we have to be quiet.”

In the time since you started this relationship with Xiaojun, you’ve grown more than familiar with his touch. The way that his fingertips feel as they dip beneath your sweater to touch the bare skin of your belly, the light scrape of his trimmed nails over your hips as he leans in close and captures your lips in a kiss.

The kiss is hot. Not a brief brush of the lips, not a quick and dirty kiss on your way to something more. Just purely a make-out, or a snog, as Xiaojun had called it once in a bad take on a British accent, which had sent you into a fit of giggles until he’d tackled you onto the bed and silenced you with his lips. Despite Xiaojun’s insistence just moments ago that this had to be quick, neither one of you seems in a rush.

Perhaps that’s why you end up getting caught.

Xiaojun’s hands are fully underneath your sweater, his hands actually on your tits, your tongue down his throat.

And that’s when you hear someone clear their throat.

Both Kun and Ten are standing there in the gap between the bookshelves. Kun looks on absolutely disapprovingly, and Ten watches from over Kun’s shoulder, his grin incredibly amused, eyes glinting mischievously. If you had to guess, you’d say that Ten caught you and Xiaojun first, but fetched Kun for the pure drama of it all.

“Get back to work, Xiaojun.” Kun commands.

Xiaojun, chastised, ducks his head and slowly pulls his hands out from beneath your sweater. You feel bad for your boyfriend since he’s been suffering through wanting you since you woke up together. You at least have the liberty still to sneak off, and you’re so tempted to do that now more than ever, but you’ll stand in solidarity with him.

Xiaojun heads back down to the cafe, Kun and Ten leave as well, with Ten whispering gleefully and glancing back at you. You curl up in the armchair, pull your book out of your bag you’d deposited on the floor, and you spend the last few hours of Xiaojun’s shift right there, reading.

As the day draws on, business doesn’t pick up any, and you’re nearing the end of your book when Xiaojun finds you to tell you that Kun’s decided to close up a little early. To no one’s surprise, business is certainly not booming during the middle of a snowstorm, so after quickly moving through all of their closing procedures, you and Xiaojun step out the front door with Ten and Kun right behind you.

By the time you get back to your apartment, you’re freezing. Even with your coat on, a scarf wound around your head, a hat tugged down to your eyelashes, and your hands buried deep into the warm pockets of your coat, you feel like a walking icicle. Xiaojun doesn’t look much better as he pulls his hat off and untangles himself from his scarf, revealing pink cheeks and chattering teeth.

You don’t bother taking off your warm outerwear. You just take Xiaojun by the hand and lead him straight to the bathroom. You reach in to turn on the shower, turning it as hot as it goes, and within moments the room is filling with steam. It doesn’t take long to reach for Xiaojun, to undo his coat and let it slide down his shoulders. He does the same to you, taking his time with unbuttoning your coat, tugging down the zipper. He pulls the hat from your head, grinning as he combs his fingers through your messy hair. As Xiaojun unwinds the scarf from around you, he dips in to peck your nose as it’s revealed, your lips when they come out, and when the scarf slithers from his hand to the floor, leaving your throat visible to him at last, Xiaojun kisses that too.

This time when Xiaojun’s hands dip and dive, exploring beneath your sweater, there’s no chance of being interrupted. This time when his nails tickle over your hips, he’s pushing your pants down, helping you shimmy them down your legs, and Xiaojun holds you steady as you step out of the pants, kicking them away.

You lose your sweater, and then make quick work of Xiaojun’s as well. You stand there in front of him in panties, socks, and an undershirt as you tug at the fastening for his jeans, as you get too exasperated by your still-cold fingers not totally cooperating with you, and you just plunge your hand down the front of his pants instead.

Xiaojun moans at the touch of your cold fingers on his heated skin, pressing down his abdomen towards the base of his cock. You kiss him quiet, and he bucks into your touch.

After waiting so long all day to finally be truly touching each other, neither of you moves particularly fast right now.

Xiaojun’s hands go to your ass, tugging you against him, and you pant against his mouth when his fingers push aside your panties and he slides his long middle finger through your wetness. You both just take it slow, touching each other at your own pace, kissing, soaking in the steam of the room.

“Should we actually get in the shower?” Xiaojun asks after a few minutes of this. He presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Why waste the water?”

Each of you lose those last few articles of clothing, and when you step into the shower, Xiaojun’s right behind you, his chest against your back as you feel the shower’s warm spray wash over you. His hands explore–your hips and thighs, a finger gliding briefly over your clit, he kisses your shoulders and neck, his fingers toy with your nipples. His name echoes off the bathroom walls as you moan for him when he fits his cock right up against your pussy, snug between your thighs pressed tight together.

Xiaojun wraps his arms around you as he rocks his hips forward, fucking your thighs, teasing your clit, and he keeps up his attack on your shoulders and throat. You’re certain you’ll be left with marks for days to come, but in the moment you don’t give a damn.

You really like the slick feeling of Xiaojun driving his cock between your thighs, the way that his tip glides against your clit, and when he draws his hips back just enough, the head of his cock drags and catches at your entrance, and if he would just shift a little in the right way he’d be inside you. It’s like it’s his turn to tease you now after what you’d done to him in bed this morning.

“Oh, darling,” he moans against your throat, teeth scraping lightly. “I might cum just like this. Your thighs are so soft. Your pussy is leaking all over me too.”

Xiaojun keeps going, and you claw at his arms wrapped around you as the tease of his cock against you grows to be too much. You beg, “Please, Xiaojun, just want you inside me!”

He ignores your pleading, begging, whining to be filled. His breath comes in sharp bursts, gasps and quiet groans as he grows closer, and as you look down, tipping your head against the shower’s spray, you can see the pink tip of his cock appearing between your pussy lips, and to your utter delight (and slight disappointment, too), you watch as his pearly cum spits from the tip, squirting down the fronts of your thighs, smearing over your clit and your pussy lips.

You moan too when Xiaojun bites down on your shoulder, the stinging pain of it is nearly enough to make you cum too.

Xiaojun sinks to his knees, his voice rough when he tells you to turn around, and you obey, immediately knitting your fingers through his hair, spreading your legs for your boyfriend to dip his head forward. Xiaojun licks at the drips of cum clinging to your thighs, he sucks at your clit, using his tongue to clean the rest of his mess from your pussy, and once he’s deemed you clean, Xiaojun rises to his feet.

You start to whine, pressing one hand at his shoulder and the other tugging down on his hair, trying to force him back to his knees to continue eating you out.

But Xiaojun has other plans. He grips your chin with one hand, and you open your mouth, watching in dazed obedience as Xiaojun leans in, as he purses his lips, and he spits into your gaping mouth the cum he’s just gathered up.

“Swallow for me, darling.”

You do as commanded, holding out your tongue afterwards as proof.

Xiaojun’s mouth crashes against yours, the kiss harsh, but his hands are tender as he holds you against him. Your pussy is still wet, still throbbing with the need for your own orgasm, and Xiaojun must understand that as he edges you back against the shower wall, his knee coming up between your legs, and he doesn’t have to say another word. Neither of you pause in the kiss as you start rubbing yourself on his thigh, clutching at him as you use his leg to get yourself off.

It’s rather rare that Xiaojun gets quite this dominant with you, but you love it dearly. You enjoy how he holds you right now like you’re so small, the way that he kisses you so hungrily like he might swallow you whole, and the way that he moans when you finally push yourself over the edge and he feels you squirting on his thigh.

You slump against Xiaojun’s shoulder, all strength gone from your limbs.

“Perfect,” Xiaojun murmurs, kissing you once more softly. “So good for me, darling.”

Though the water has begun to run a bit cold by this point, neither of you really mind. Quickly, you rinse each other off, a quick shampoo and a scrub, and then you’re stepping out of the shower and straight into your bedroom. You drag Xiaojun down into the bed with you, over you, and he’s got his lips on your body before you can even ask for it. He traces the lingering water droplets on your skin with his tongue, following them anywhere they might go until he’s breathing warm against your pussy.

Xiaojun’s gentle with you now, eating you out slowly, caressing your thighs as he guides them over his shoulders. He brings you to a shuddering orgasm just like that, his name a chant on your lips, your toes curl against his back. Xiaojun lifts himself from between the warm haven of your thighs, pulling himself over you, and you tangle your arms behind his neck, squeeze your legs around his hips, and he sinks into you cockfirst.

Maybe you’re a little cock-drunk, blissed out from the two orgasms in such close proximity and well on your way to a third, but you can’t stop yourself from telling him you love him, over and over again, moaning it softly in between kissing Xiaojun. And he smiles down at you, his fingers stroking your cheek, murmuring it back to you with each of his deep rocking thrusts into you.

You cum for a third time like this, face-to-face with your boyfriend, overwhelmed by the pleasure and by the feeling of being so incredibly in love with him. It embarrasses you a little as you’re coming back down, your face feels hot, your eyes wet, your core throbs with the knowledge that it won’t take much to pull a fourth orgasm from you.

When you try to get Xiaojun to move, to change into another position than this one where he’s looking you full in the face while you’re feeling shy, he just shakes his head.

“I like to look at you, darling. You’re beautiful.”

“That’s cheesy,” you pout, lifting your hands to cover your face. Tears leak out of your eyes, matched with a moan as Xiaojun’s cock hits just right inside you. “Fuck, Jun. Gonna make me unable to walk tomorrow.”

He moans low in his throat. “That’s alright. It’s gonna keep snowing, and we won’t even be able to leave the apartment tomorrow. I’ll wait on you hand and foot if you can’t walk.”

That sounds really nice. Taking a snow day together, not leaving bed. And if all it takes to get Xiaojun to wait hand and foot on you is for him to fuck you senseless, well, that’s just something you’ll have to aim for. You moan from the sensitivity as Xiaojun swipes his thumb in tight circles over your clit, his even thrusts carrying you right into that highly prized fourth orgasm. This time you feel the tears pouring from your eyes, desperate sounds leaking from your lips with increasing volume (God, you hope your neighbors can’t hear).

When you move your hands away from your face so you can see him, Xiaojun’s gaze goes soft at the sight of your tears and the sounds of your overstimulated cries. He leans in, kissing your cheeks, getting a taste of your tears. “I can stop.”

You shake your head. “No, no. Keep going.”

“You sure?” He asks. “Can you cum one more time for me, darling? Can you cum with Daddy?”

Now that’s a new one. He’s never called himself that, never asked you to call him that either. But that’s not to say that you don’t like it, especially not right now when you’re crying for him to keep going, when your fingertips are tingling with the pleasure, your body barely containing the spillover into your next orgasm.

“Can you do that?” Xiaojun asks again, awaiting your answer.

You nod. “Yeah, please. I can cum once more, Jun.”

It feels incredibly intimate when Xiaojun locks his gaze on yours, holding himself above you, and he rocks forward in slow, deep thrusts. It’s a slow thing, the pressure building, the buzzing in your ears increasing, the tingling in your fingertips and toes spreading. You reach for Xiaojun’s shoulder, for his back, digging your fingers into whatever part of him you can, and you gasp his name, your head rolling back on the pillow as this orgasm crests inside you like a wave.

Time pauses right there at the crest of the wave, and for a moment you feel like you’re drowning in it. And then Xiaojun presses into you one more time, and his orgasm overwhelms him too, and the heat of his climax inside you pushes the wave of your orgasm on, bringing it crashing down at full force through you.

You think you must’ve blacked out a little bit because when you next come to, you’re tucked in beneath the blankets with Xiaojun beside you. He’s watching you, gently twisting a small section of your hair around his finger. You can see through the window over his shoulder; snow is still falling against the gray sky. Maybe there’s some truth to his prediction about tomorrow.

The day’s not over yet. It’s still mid-afternoon, and although you could easily drift off into a comfortable nap right there in the warm bed with Xiaojun, you know that you shouldn’t.

“Can you read to me?” You ask Xiaojun, stifling a yawn. “I was almost finished reading my book earlier. It’s still in my bag.”

Xiaojun kisses your forehead before leaving bed, going to fetch the book out of your bag in the living room. When he returns he’s smiling, holding the book. “It’s about time you finish this one.”

It’s the one that he’d reserved for you what’s been months ago now. The copy reserved for you alone behind the desk at the bookstore, that Ten had handed over with an all-knowing grin.

Xiaojun settles back into bed with you, leaning up against the headboard as you slide closer, lifting yourself up against the pillows, resting your head on his shoulder as he opens the book to the page where you’d left off at the store earlier. You close your eyes as he starts to read, and you get lost in the soothing cadence of your boyfriend’s voice, the story playing out across the backs of your eyelids, though you occasionally open your eyes to glance at Xiaojun’s face.

You’ve always loved watching his face when you’re reading to him or, like now, when he’s reading to you. He lets the emotions flit freely across his face–his confusion, his surprise, his happiness, his sadness or anger or frustration.

Truly, you’re on the verge of sleep by the time that Xiaojun reaches the final page. The story is wrapping up nicely, peacefully, but there are still questions left to be answered in the next installment of the series. You bat your heavy eyes, seeing the words swim across the page as Xiaojun’s voice reads them. And you try to follow along, down to the very last sentence.

“The end,” Xiaojun finishes, though those words aren’t printed on the page. “Now, you can finally say that you’ve finished this book that I just had to hold back for you months ago.”

You turn your face against his shoulder, ready to snuggle in, drag him into a nap with you, but as Xiaojun turns the page in the book, flipping through the author’s acknowledgements and the other extra pages in the back, you catch a glimpse of something that doesn’t seem to belong.

“What’s that?” You ask, sitting up slightly, suddenly alert. You reach for the book.

Xiaojun jerks it away, snapping the book shut. “What’s what? The book’s over.”

His answer is undoubtedly suspicious. You reach for the book again, and this time you succeed in snatching it away. You bring it into your lap, half tilting your body away from Xiaojun’s, though he presses up along your back to look over your shoulder as you flip through the pages, seeking the page towards the very end of the book.

At last, you find it.

Tucked behind the author’s acknowledgements, on a blank page that precedes a sneak preview of the next book in the series, there is a handwritten scrawl in slightly smudged blue ink. The same shade of blue ink that you’ve often seen staining the side of Xiaojun’s hand from dragging along pages he’s had to fill out at the bookstore with the blue pens they keep at the register.

You glance over your shoulder at him, and suddenly he’s looking anywhere but at you or the book.

“Xiao Dejun?” You ask. He doesn’t turn back around, so you seek your answer on the page instead.

First, you see your name in Xiaojun’s handwriting, at the top of the page. And below it is a message:

I just want to let you know that having you come into the store is the highlight of my week. I know we don’t really know each other, not when we’ve only ever spoken here in the store, only ever about books or shows or movies or whatever drink I make for you in the cafe. But I want to get to know you better. I like you, and I hope you like me too. The guys here at the store are already giving me hell for this because Ten says my crush on you is so obvious that you must not like me back, and I’m just really hoping that maybe you’re oblivious to the way I feel.

As much as I like talking with you, using showing you around the store as an excuse even though I know that by this point you must know this store as well as I do, I want to see you outside the store sometime on a date. I want to take you out to dinner, if you’ll let me.

If you don’t feel the same, we can pretend that I never wrote this. We don’t ever have to talk about this, and we can just go on with our friendly customer-employee interactions. I’ll still make you surprise drinks when you come into the cafe. This doesn’t have to change anything unless you want it to.

Yours,

Xiaojun

ps. If you don’t feel the same, and if you have to find a different bookstore or cafe to go to, the vanilla chai latte is the drink that’s your favorite.

For several long moments, you sit there in bed beside Xiaojun, your eyes tracing the letters on the page, fingers brushing along the edge of the paper where he carefully wrote down this note months ago. The note that you’re only just now reading for the first time. No wonder he’d looked so disappointed when you told him that you hadn’t finished the book yet. And then weeks had gone by and you never mentioned the book to him again, not until that day you first had him over. Now that relief he’d shown when he realized you’d never even opened the book made so much more sense too.

You hadn’t rejected his feelings, you were still oblivious to them.

But now, you can’t help wondering how you were so blind? Your fingers run over the ink dried onto the page, his postscript message about the vanilla chai latte.

There were days back then, back before this was a thing between you and Xiaojun, when you would come into the cafe part of the store and smile at Xiaojun behind the counter and ask him to make for you whatever drink he felt like making. Some were hits, several were misses, but there was one drink that you loved more than any other because of the smoothness and the layers of spice snd sweetness as you cradled it in your hands while perusing the shelves of the store.

He never told you the names of the drinks, and you never asked because you liked the surprise, but you were always curious what your favorite one was called.

“Xiao Dejun,” you whisper, lifting your gaze from the page to look at your boyfriend.

He’s still not looking at you. A touch of color on his cheeks tells you that he’s possibly a bit embarrassed by this love note.

“You know I love you, so why are you acting embarrassed?” You tease him, moving over to straddle him so you can see his face. “My Xiaojun, getting embarrassed long after the fact, after everything else we’ve done and said?”

He sighs. “But it’s cheesy. I don’t know what I was thinking, trying to ask you out like that. It’s not like it worked, anyway.”

“No, it’s romantic.” You smile, “And how were you supposed to know that I hoard books instead of reading them? Also, it worked out anyway. We’re here now, aren’t we?”

You press the book against Xiaojun’s chest, and when he looks down at it with a little frown of confusion, you smile wider. “Can you read it to me? I want to hear you say it.”

He puts up only a half-hearted protest before he lifts the book from his chest, looking down at the words he wrote. You settle down on his lap, and Xiaojun rests the book against your belly.

As Xiaojun begins to read the love note to you, his voice shakes slightly, the nerves from the past bleeding into the present. By the time he nears the end, his voice steadies, his tone soft as he speaks his feelings.

“Yours,” he pauses here at the end, lifting his gaze up to meet yours, and then, “Forever, your Xiaojun.”

“My darling, Xiaojun.” You pluck the book away, tossing it aside into the bedsheets, and you cup Xiaojun’s handsome face in your hands, pulling his mouth to yours.

a/n: honestly, I lowkey feel like this fic was all over the place lol there were multiple different ways I wanted to take this that I ended up changing my mind about, like I briefly considered a vampire xiaojun storyline which would’ve consisted of him biting her and drinking from her after the twilight marathon, I was going to have a big dramatic breakup scene that of course ended up with them getting back together after she finished reading the book he reserved for her because of that little love note he left in it, but I couldn’t decide on a reason for them to break up, so this is what happened instead

As always, I hope you enjoyed! I love our multi-faceted Xiaojun who is nerdy and soft but also can be very stereotypically masculine and muscley. Please show your love and thoughts through reblogs, comments, messages, and likes 💗 thank you!

#xiaojun smut #wayv smut #nct smut #xiaojun #xiao dejun smut

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xomakara · 4 months

Text

No One But You

SUMMARY | One drunken night with Xiaojun gave you the most precious thing in the world, your son. Years later, Xiaojun returns from overseas and finally gets to reunite with you and his son. PAIRINGS | Xiaojun/Fem!Reader GENRE | non-idol au, daddy!Xiaojun, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex, slight angst, fluff RATING | Mature LENGTH | 6,813 words AUTHOR’S NOTE | Originally, this was supposed to be a fantasy with the whole isekai theme. But this idea had been swimming in my mind lately and so here you go. I hope this makes sense and that it flowed okay. I struggled a bit haha. Hope you all like it.

"Just give it some thought," Renjun, your best friend, muttered one day. You were both sitting in your favorite cafe, drinking your lattes and getting on each other's nerves with an annoying amount of frequency. It was a pretty standard Sunday afternoon to be honest - so you had just agreed to meet here.

Nothing special.

"And what do I get for this?" you asked, glancing up from your coffee. Renjun had been pestering you to join him at this new company your friends Mark and Johnny established. They promised it would be very profitable and the pay was good as well. And he was very persistent. Like never ending. He'd been talking about it nonstop since yesterday morning when you woke up.

You rolled your eyes and went back to sipping your coffee. "I mean it's not like I don't want to help them out, but they're not giving me any kind of perks."

"You get to see eye-candy all day long." Renjun snorted. "How is that not a perk? At least this way you can finally find someone who'll satisfy you better than-"

"Don't you dare say his name." You muttered under your breath.

"C'mon Y/N." Renjun patted your hand. "It's been years since you last dated Jungwoo. I’m sure he’s happily married and has kids. Besides, you have a son now, too. Does Xiaojun know?"

Xiaojun...

The father of your son.

You've known Xiaojun since your college days. He was a friend of Renjun, Mark and Johnny and he always tagged along whenever you hung out with them. Back then, he used to flirt shamelessly and his charm would always manage to make you laugh and blush simultaneously. You were in a serious relationship with your ex, Jungwoo, during that time, but that all changed however, when you ended your three year relationship with him. Your relationship just didn't work out. He cheated on you multiple times. You loved him with all your heart, though. But you couldn't be with someone who hurt you constantly. Your heartbreak left you feeling empty and lonely. Your entire world crumbled around you and you felt like nothing could ever go right again.

Your friends were there to help you through your tough times. To cheer you up, Renjun and the others dragged you out to the biggest Neo frat party of the semester, despite your constant protests. Of course, you had fun that night. It was a relief to forget about your troubles for a while. In a drunken stupor and clearly horny, you found Xiaojun dancing nearby. Without thinking twice, you walked over to him and grabbed his hands to sway to the music. And god, he was sexy in those leather pants and tight black shirt. It was hard to resist him and not give into temptation. After a few minutes, you decided to dance closer to him. And God, he smelled so good. Like fresh air, soft lips and spring flowers. That did it. Before you knew it, you were making out with him against the wall.

Things quickly escalated and before you knew it, the rest was history. It was just a one night thing between you two. And you never did date him. He left to study overseas a few weeks later and disappeared off your radar.

When you found out you were pregnant a month after that drunken night with Xiaojun, you were scared and confused. You never imagined that one drunken night with him could have changed your future so drastically. The urge to tell him that you were pregnant was overwhelming. You wanted to reach out to him, talk to him, tell him about the baby, apologize for what happened that night. But you also couldn't deny that your decision that night wasn't completely your own.

You'd been depressed and lonely since your breakup with Jungwoo and Xiaojun provided you with the comfort you needed. Was it wrong of you to use him that way? Or did you deserve something more? If you chose to keep the baby, who would take care of it? Where would you live? Who would be its father?

You had to tell someone and you eventually told Renjun, Mark and Johnny about your pregnancy, revealing that Xiaojun had to be the father since he was the last person you’ve slept with. Your friends reacted predictably: they offered their unconditional support and told you that you were strong enough to raise the child on your own. They were your best friends and they wanted to be the best uncles they could be to your son.

But even after that fateful night, you continued to think about what could have been if he had stayed. If you had found out you were pregnant if you were together.

You shook your head. "No, he still doesn't know about our son."

Renjun sighed. "You know he's back in town. He’s been asking me about you too. Its just a matter of time before Xiaojun talks to our friends and finds out he has a son. You should tell him before that happens."

"I know but I can't just tell him I got pregnant after one drunken night together. There are too many details involved."

Renjun ran his fingers through his hair. He sighed and leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. "What are you going to do, Y/N?"

"That's the problem. I don't know what to do." You mumbled. "I don't want him to resent me or hate me. I want him to love my son and accept him. That's all I ask for."

"Then just tell him. I'm sure he won't mind if you told him the truth."

"But what if he does?" You replied, looking down at your cup. "Wouldn't that complicate things? Especially since we have a child together. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if he blamed me for ruining his life or something. I wouldn't be able to look at him or be near him anymore."

Renjun shrugged. "Who says he will blame you? You guys are adults, after all. Plus, we’re not children anymore. Our lives are different. It's not the same as back then. I think you're just being paranoid."

"Am I?" You looked up, frowning. "Do you really believe I am?"

He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Not really, no. I know you, Y/N. You're more forgiving than most people. But sometimes, people need to face the consequences of their actions. And even if they don't, there are plenty of other fish in the sea. It's not like your son needs a man around to protect him."

Renjun waved away your concern. "So don't let your feelings towards him ruin your happiness. You deserve to be happy, Y/N. So tell him about your son."

“I’m home!” You called out as you stepped into your apartment.

You heard the pitter patter of small feet and a small figure ran out of the bedroom before launching unto you. “Mommy! Mommy!”

You cooed as you picked your son up in your arms. He wrapped his arms tightly around your neck and buried his face into your chest. "Hi Dongjun, my beautiful angel. Did you miss me?"

"Of course!" He squealed excitedly. "I missed you, mommy."

“You’re so silly.” You giggled as you planted a kiss on top of his head. “You don’t need to miss me because you’re going to see me every day. Right?"

Dongjun giggled excitedly and nodded his head. "Right mommy!"

"Good." You hugged him tightly. "Because I missed you too."

The two of you walked slowly down the hallway. Dongjun held onto your hand and grinned widely as he talked about his random adventures with Uncle Jisung, your younger brother. When you asked where Uncle Jisung was, your son pointed at your brother's room stating that 'Uncle Jisung is studying'.

“Hey Mommy, wanna watch a movie with me?” Dongjun asked, tugging at your shirt sleeve.

“Okay honey, but first, can I change into comfy clothes?” You questioned, pointing towards your bedroom.

“Mm hmm.” Dongjun nodded enthusiastically as he plopped on the couch and proceeded to watch TV.

After changing into sweats and a loose t-shirt, you settled down next to your son. You placed your hand on his head and smiled as you stroked his hair gently. It was nice being able to spend quality time with your son. Dongjun was so happy when he was with you. He loved watching movies and playing games with you. You could already tell that he was smart, mature and creative. If only you could turn back time, things would be different.

You wondered how life would have been if you told Xiaojun about Dongjun. Or how it would be if you got together with him. But looking at your son, you knew that whatever happened, you made the right choice. No matter what choices you made in the past, your son will always be yours.

“Alright, time for bed. Let’s snuggle.” You told your son as you pulled him close to your body.

“Yes!” Dongjun grinned happily.

You leaned over to kiss him on the forehead and you smiled as you closed your eyes. At least one good thing came out of that drunken night, you thought.

"Mommy?" Dongjun suddenly asked as he poked you in the arm.

"Hmm?" You opened your eyes and glanced at your son. "What is it honey?"

"Did you love daddy when you first met him?"

“Hmmm…now that’s a tough question to ask me, squirt.” You pinched his cheek. “How should I answer it?”

“I think you loved Daddy.” Dongjun said confidently. “Because if you didn’t love Daddy, then I wouldn’t be here today. So you must have loved Daddy when you first met him.”

You smiled as tears welled up in your eyes. Dongjun was such a sweet boy.

"Sweetie, you are the most important person in my life. And no matter what happens, I will always love you." You hugged him tightly. "I am very lucky to have a child like you."

"Aw, Mommy. Thank you." Dongjun wiped away the tear from your eye. "Now let's go to sleep, okay?"

"Yes." You nodded. "Night-night, Sweetie."

Dongjun yawned as he curled up in your lap. You kissed his forehead again and whispered good night in his ear. Then you watched as he drifted off to sleep.

You didn't expect that your life would turn out like this. You had always dreamt of finding true love and getting married someday. But fate decided otherwise. Now you were living alone, raising your son singlehandedly. A part of you wished that things could have been different. Maybe your son would grow up knowing his father. Maybe you could've dated Xiaojun or find another man to share your life with.

But all those questions went unanswered as you drifted off to sleep.

There was nothing you could do about it. The past is the past. And there was no point dwelling on it anymore. Your son was the only light in your life. Without him, you would have been lost in despair and misery. You may not have found love, but you learned to accept what fate gave you.

Everything else was secondary.

God damn, he's still handsome.

You couldn't help but bite your bottom lip as you watched Xiaojun put in his order with the waiter. Even after all these years, you still found him attractive. And he noticed you noticing him. His smile widened and he leaned towards you slightly. You held your breath as you smiled politely.

There was no denying that you felt some attraction to him back in your college days. If you weren’t dating Jungwoo back then, you would have jumped on the chance to get with Xiaojun.

But you never acted on those thoughts. There was no reason to start a relationship with him when Jungwoo was willing to be by your side. But that was before there were problems in the relationship. Before you broke up with Jungwoo. Before you found yourself alone.

Back then, everything was perfect. You were the happiest girl alive. Everything seemed so easy. You spent all your time doing fun stuff with your friends and boyfriend. As long as you were with them, you couldn't imagine a life without them.

It was an exciting time in your life. You were young, carefree and optimistic. Life seemed limitless. You had so much hope and dreams. What would you do now that all those hopes and dreams have faded away?

All that was left was regret and pain.

And now here you were, years later, sitting across from him as he gave you a sweet smile. That smile was one thing that always got to you. Especially after all this time. You tried to act natural, but the truth was you felt like you were caught in your own private show. And you weren't the only one noticing him. There were quite a few women gawking and flirting with him, although he seemed to not notice.

Xiaojun stared at you intently for a few moments before speaking. "So how are you doing, Y/N?"

"Eh, good, thanks." You shrugged. "How are you?"

"Glad to be back home." He said, smiling broadly. “I really missed Korean and Chinese food here."

You gave him a small smile. "It’s good to see that you were doing good overseas though."

"It was tough but it was worth all the experiences." Xiaojun grinned.

“I bet.” You nodded, trying not to look at his mouth. Jesus Christ, he still looked edible. You were tempted to lean forward and kiss him, but you managed to hold yourself back. "So Renjun mentioned that you've been asking about me. What's that all about, huh?"

Xiaojun blushed as he fidgeted in his seat. "Uh, well…" He paused. “I guess I just miss hanging out with you and the others."

"Life has gotten in the way, that's all." You sighed. "But I promise I'll try to spend more time with you now that you’re back home."

"Really?" Xiaojun raised an eyebrow. "Like, on a regular basis?"

"Maybe." You grinned sheepishly. "Or maybe not. Depends if you keep bugging me like Renjun always does. I wonder why I'm still friends with him..."

“Ha ha, you wouldn't trade him for the world.” Xiaojun replied with a laugh.

"True that.” You chuckled. “He’s my best friend after all.”

A small silence followed. Both of you simply stared at each other awkwardly. Finally, Xiaojun broke the silence. "Listen…I'm sorry about what happened in college. I never meant to hurt you. You're one of my closest friends and I don't want anything to ruin that."

"You never hurt me, Xiaojun." You shook your head, a faint smile on your lips. "I was heartbroken when Jungwoo dumped me and I needed a distraction from the pain. We were both drunk and horny at that frat party. I don't regret that one night with you. I don't blame you for it. None of it was your fault."

"You're a good person, Y/N." Xiaojun muttered quietly.

"Thanks." You replied sincerely. "Sometimes I feel guilty for using you to distract myself. And even after all this time, I can't bring myself to look at you without thinking about Jungwoo. It's a stupid reason, huh?"

"No, it's understandable." Xiaojun smiled gently. "People need distractions sometimes. Plus, that one night turned out to be pretty good for you. You enjoyed yourself, found comfort in someone's arms, and felt loved. It helped you get over your broken heart. Even if it was just for one night."

"Yeah. And thank you for that, by the way." You smiled softly. "For taking care of me that night. For listening to me cry about my ex."

"Don't mention it." Xiaojun said as he waved away the compliment. "You were hurting and I cared about you. You needed some comfort and I wanted to provide that for you."

"That makes me feel better." You laughed. You sucked in a deep breath. “Xiaojun, can I tell you something?”

"Of course." Xiaojun assured you.

You hesitated for a moment. It had been years since you talked to Xiaojun but you hoped that he would understand where you were coming from. After a few minutes, you decided to continue.

"It’s hard for me to say this but…” You took a deep breath. “Xiaojun, you’re a dad…”

“Wait, what?” Xiaojun gasped.

“We have a son,” You answered quickly. “His name is Dongjun.”

Xiaojun blinked several times. “Are you sure he’s mine?”

"You were the last person I had sex with before I found out I was pregnant." You nodded your head and pulled out your phone, scrolling through the pictures of Dongjun. “He looks exactly like you. Just look at the pictures.”

Xiaojun stared down at the photo of Dongjun on his phone. He took in the picture and blinked slowly. His expression softened as he looked back at you.

“Our son…” He murmured quietly. “Wow.”

“I know you might be mad or disappointed that I didn’t tell you but…” You paused. “I wasn’t ready to face you after I found out I was pregnant. I didn’t want you to feel obligated to come back to Korea and take care of me and the baby because we had that one night together.”

Xiaojun shook his head, a small smile on his face. "Y/N, don't worry about that. I know our relationship is complicated but there is no way I would ever resent you or the baby. In fact, I feel happy to hear that you're raising our son well."

“I’m glad you think that.” You smiled. “I never really talked about you. When Dongjun asks where you are, I just tell him that you had to work somewhere far away. How do you tell a four year old that his mom and dad aren’t even a couple? How do you tell him that his mom and dad were drunk and horny one night and that’s how he was conceived? Telling him that you worked far away was the best option.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” Xiaojun sighed. “Can I meet him? Please, Y/N? I would love to meet my son.”

“Of course, I’d like you to meet him.” You agreed, nodding. “And knowing Dongjun, he already loves you very much.”

“I already love him too, you know?” Xiaojun gave a slight laugh. “I wish I had met him earlier. Things would have been different between us. I wouldn’t have gone overseas. I would have stayed and we could have explored if there was truly a connection between us.”

“Maybe things wouldn’t have changed that much.” You reminded him. “Even if you did stay, we were really never together. Not after that one night. All we did was sleep together. There was nothing more than sex going on. You flirted with me, sure. And I needed comfort from a broken heart. So there was nothing binding us together.“

“Yes, there was.” Xiaojun argued. “The first moment I met you, that first time you smiled so sweetly at me when Renjun introduced us, I knew I liked you right away. It’s like I could see you clearly for the first time. The way you walked, your attitude, your body language, everything was so perfect. But you were with Jungwoo at the time. I didn’t want to ruin your relationship with him, so I just tried to hang out with you whenever possible.”

He sighed, looking at you softly. “After you broke up with Jungwoo, I realized that I was in love with you. That one drunk night at the frat party made me realize how I felt about you. And I never stopped loving you since then.”

“But why didn’t you tell me?” You asked, suddenly feeling sad.

“I didn’t want you to rush anything. You were healing from a broken heart and I didn’t want to add more problems to your life. I just knew that you needed love and comfort even if it was for one night.” Xiaojun explained. “And I didn’t want to scare you off by telling you how I felt.”

“I understand.” You whispered sadly. “But you should have told me sooner. Maybe I felt the same way.”

“Well, I’m telling you now.” Xiaojun said, giving you a reassuring smile. “Did you ever felt anything for me? Like, was there any chance that you could have fallen in love with me?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “If I wasn’t dating Jungwoo back then, I probably would have started to develop feelings for you too. Maybe even developed them into something more.”

“I’m glad you said that.” Xiaojun breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Xiaojun, now that you’re back for good…” You paused. “Do you think that we could give this another shot? Maybe see where things really go between us? If you just want to be friends or just in Dongjun’s life, then it’s fine with me. But I just thought…”

“I want that too.” Xiaojun cut you off. “I want to see where this goes. With you, and Dongjun. I can be the father that Dongjun deserves and I will make sure to devote myself fully to my son and to you.”

“Okay.” You agreed. You stood up and grabbed his hand. “Come. Let’s go see our son.”

It took you but minutes by car to reach your apartment. You reached your door and unlocked it, calling out, “Dongjun! I’m home!”

Dongjun ran out of his room with a huge smile on his face. As soon as he spotted you, he jumped into your arms and gave you a big hug.

“Mommy! Mommy! I missed you!” He exclaimed happily.

“I missed you too, baby. Where’s Uncle Jisung?” You questioned, wondering where your younger brother was.

“Uncle Jisung is watching TV.” Dongjun suddenly noticed Xiaojun by the door. “Mommy, who’s that?”

You and Xiaojun exchanged looks. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself.

"Well… Let's introduce ourselves, shall we?" You offered nervously.

Dongjun looked between you and Xiaojun curiously, wondering what was going on.

“He looks exactly like me.” Xiaojun muttered. “I can’t believe we made such a beautiful child.”

“Dongjun, this is your daddy.” You introduced the two of them.

“Daddy!” Dongjun squealed excitedly, jumping off your lap and running towards Xiaojun. Xiaojun hesitated for a second, still unsure whether he should accept Dongjun’s warm embrace. But after a brief hesitation, he leaned down to hug Dongjun with a big smile.

“Hi Dongjun. I’m your dad.” Xiaojun said softly.

“Dad! Dad! DAD!” Dongjun exclaimed loudly, unable to contain his excitement. He wrapped his tiny arms around Xiaojun’s neck, hugging him tightly.

"Oohh." Xiaojun gasped, surprised by Dongjun’s reaction. His body went rigid and he clutched onto Dongjun even tighter.

"Is everything alright?" You wondered, noticing the tension in the air.

"Uh… Yeah, it's fine." Xiaojun laughed. "Just caught me off guard, that's all. He’s just so energetic."

You nodded, chuckling. “Don’t worry, Xiaojun. You’ll get used to it.”

“I love him already.” Xiaojun breathed out. “This is the happiest day of my life.”

You smiled widely. You couldn’t help but tear up at the sight of Xiaojun being so affectionate with Dongjun. This must have meant so much to him.

"We're both so happy that you're here, daddy!" Dongjun exclaimed, planting kisses on Xiaojun's cheeks.

"Thank you for welcoming me, Dongjun." Xiaojun replied gently.

Dongjun giggled and wrapped his arms around Xiaojun's neck once again. Xiaojun laughed at Dongjun's enthusiasm. You grinned and looked at each other, sharing a small laugh.

“This is going to work out really well.”

It had been a few months since Xiaojun had moved into your apartment. Your brother Jisung had moved out and said that he and his friend, Chenle, found an apartment to share. You knew that Jisung didn't want to get involved in the love fest between you and Xiaojun.

Yours and Xiaojun’s relationship slowly began to blossom and develop into something more. It started with a few sweet kisses here and there. Soon enough, they became an everyday occurrence. At first, you were nervous and embarrassed. You wanted to wait until Dongjun grew older before letting him catch you kissing his father. However, you soon realized that letting Xiaojun seduce you was the most exciting thing you had experienced in a long time. And not only that, but seeing Dongjun's excitement while witnessing these intimate moments between you and Xiaojun, well…

It was adorable.

At some point, you started falling for Xiaojun. Hard. Your heart raced every time you saw him and every kiss sent shivers through your entire body. Soon enough, the longing to be with him outweighed everything else in your life. You knew that Dongjun loved Xiaojun as well, which helped ease your worries.

One night, the three of you were watching a movie when Dongjun asked you and Xiaojun a question.

“Mommy, Daddy, can I ask you a question?”

You looked over at Dongjun and he was eagerly awaiting your answer.

“Sure, honey. What is it?” You asked.

“Where do babies come from?” He inquired.

You and Xiaojun looked at each other, smiling awkwardly. After a few seconds of silence, you decided to take control of the situation.

“Honey, babies are actually made when mommies and daddies love each other very much.” You told him.

“Ohhh…” Dongjun stared at you and Xiaojun intently. “Then does mommy and daddy love each other very much?”

Xiaojun turned to look at you with a wide grin on his face. “Why yes, my little prince. We do.”

Dongjun beamed at the sight of Xiaojun's prideful expression. Then he looked at you and smiled.

“Does that mean I can have a baby brother or sister?” He asked, nodding vigorously.

You and Xiaojun exchanged looks again, smiling at each other silently. Finally, you pulled Dongjun into a tight hug.

“Of course, honey. One day, I hope that you'll have lots of siblings.” You whispered softly.

“Mmm. I'd like that.” Dongjun murmured, snuggling closer to you. "I love you, mommy. I love you, daddy."

You squeezed him tightly. “I love you, sweetie. So much.”

Dongjun eventually fell asleep in your arms. You glanced over at Xiaojun who was sitting next to you on the couch, playing with Dongjun's hair idly.

“Xiaojun?” You called out softly.

“Hmm?” He responded, continuing to play with Dongjun's hair.

“I've always wanted to tell you this.” You admitted, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “I love you.”

His eyes widened at the sudden confession. A few seconds passed before he spoke.

“I love you too.” He whispered, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss against your lips.

Your heart fluttered at the sensation of his warm lips on yours. You felt yourself become flush as you pressed against him.

The moment was broken when Dongjun yawned, causing you to let go of Xiaojun's hands. You watched as he gathered his sleeping son into his arms. The two of them quietly made their way upstairs, leaving you alone downstairs.

Your cheeks were flushed red and your mind was filled with images of Xiaojun making passionate love to you on the sofa. Even though it was completely innocent, you found yourself feeling extremely aroused. You wondered if Xiaojun was feeling the same way.

After tucking in Dongjun, Xiaojun returned to the living room. He sat down beside you and looked at you lovingly. “I love you, Y/N. I want no one but you.”

“Who would have imagine one drunken night would lead to us being together again.” You sighed.

“That night changed everything for us.” Xiaojun agreed. “Our lives haven't been the same ever since.”

“I know.” You sighed, leaning against Xiaojun's chest. “If it weren't for that night, I wouldn't have had Dongjun or met you again.”

Xiaojun nuzzled his nose against your forehead. “Neither of us could have predicted how fate would bring us back together. And I am so grateful that it did.”

Your hands caressed his cheek. “I don't regret a single second we spent apart. I think our time apart made us realize how much we needed each other. Without you, Dongjun would never have existed.”

Xiaojun cupped your face in his hands and leaned in to press a tender kiss against your lips.

“Let's enjoy every minute we have together, okay?” He suggested.

You melted into his touch. Every kiss, every touch felt so right. For the first time in your life, you truly felt like everything was coming together perfectly.

"Yes, Xiaojun." You agreed, nipping his bottom lip playfully. "Should we give our little one a sibling?“

He grinned. “Definitely.”

“Have fun and don’t come back pregnant!” Renjun called out, Johnny laughing next to him.

“Dongjun, be good for the uncles!” Xiaojun called out, Dongjun excitedly chasing Mark.

“Yay! Sleepover with Uncles Renjun, Mark and Johnny!!” Dongjun shouted happily, throwing his arms in the air.

Renjun grabbed hold of him, swinging him around in a circle. “Yeah! We’re gonna have so much fun!”

You and Xiaojun exchanged hugs with Dongjun before getting into the car and driving back home. Both you and Xiaojun thought it would be good idea to have the guys take your son for the weekend so that you both can spend some time together alone.

Xiaojun held your hand as he was driving. His thumb gently stroked your fingers, sending goosebumps across your skin. Your mind drifted to thoughts of what would happen later tonight.

The only time you had sex with Xiaojun was that one drunken night all those years ago. Since you’ve officially gotten together, you’ve slept in the same bed but you’ve never touched each other intimately. You didn’t want Dongjun to catch the two of you if you were being sexual in any way shape or form.

But tonight was different.

Tonight you planned to surrender yourself to Xiaojun completely. This time you wanted to remember everything that happened and now that you’re together, it would be easy for you to recall all of the feelings and sensations.

As soon as you walked into your apartment, Xiaojun pulled you close and kissed you passionately. You groaned at the taste of his mouth on yours. His strong arms enveloped your waist, holding you firmly against his body. You slid your hands up his muscular arms and ran them through his hair. You savored the sensation of his scalp under your fingertips. His dark locks glistened with drops of sweat as he released his lips from yours and looked deep into your eyes.

“Do you want me?” He asked breathlessly.

“Always.” You breathed, closing the gap between your lips once again.

Xiaojun growled deeply as he pulled you closer to him, deepening the kiss. He moaned as your tongue met his and instinctively he slipped his hand under your shirt. You gasped as he traced the edge of your bra, your nipples hardening instantly.

"I need you. Right now." He breathed heavily.

Your breathing matched his pace. You peeled off your shirt and unhooked your bra, allowing it to slide off your shoulders and drop to the floor. Xiaojun smiled widely as he looked down at your naked breasts.

"God, I forgot how great they looked." He remarked, licking his lips hungrily.

He reached down and took your hands, pulling you closer to him. You stood before him, waiting patiently for him to make the first move. Suddenly, his mouth was on your left breast, sucking strongly on the nipple. Your hands immediately clutched his head, encouraging him to continue. You couldn’t help but moan loudly.

"You know..." He murmured between licks and kisses. "I've always wanted a repeat of that night. To feel your naked skin against mine... to kiss your body... to feel you come for me."

"Me too..." You gasped. "At least this time we're sober."

He laughed as he brought his lips back to your right breast, sucking and nibbling lightly. Your hands continued to run through his hair. You closed your eyes as his warm breath tickled your skin. When his hand finally reached your shorts, you grabbed his hand only to help him pull your pants off. Xiaojun slid his fingers underneath your panties and into your wet folds. You trembled as he played with your clit.

"God, you're so fucking wet." He muttered, chuckling. "And so ready for me."

He pulled away momentarily, to pull his shirt off. He slipped his fingers inside of you as you undid his belt buckle and zipper. Soon enough, his cock was freed from his pants and you wrapped it with your hand. As soon as you started stroking him, his hips bucked upwards.

"Fuck!" He grunted, removing his fingers from you and sliding your underwear down your legs and throwing them to the side.

His eyes met yours as he bent his head down and captured your mouth in a kiss. You moaned as his tongue found its way inside your mouth. You were still stroking his length as he pushed you towards the sofa.

You sat down, running your hand over his muscular chest. You looked at him with lust filled eyes. "Xiaojun..."

"Yeah baby?" He asked, brushing your hair behind your ear.

"Can I... suck you off?" You requested, leaning forwards.

"Oh god." He breathed. "Are you sure?"

You nodded your head.

"Y/N..." He groaned as you wrapped your lips around the tip of his dick.

You hummed as you sucked, using your tongue to flick it quickly across the tip of his shaft. Xiaojun slowly stroked your hair as he watched you work his cock with your mouth. His own eyes were half-closed as he basked in the pleasure.

You took more of him into your mouth, moving your head up and down slowly. You could hear him moaning in pleasure as you moved your mouth faster and faster. He gripped the back of your head, keeping you firmly in place. You could feel his member throbbing as you took him deeper and deeper.

You began to increase your speed, taking more of him into your mouth at a rapid pace. Xiaojun grunted as he reached his limit, jerking his hips violently. You kept going until he was completely spent, spurting his hot cum onto your tongue.

You swallowed his seed greedily, wanting to taste every last drop of it. After cleaning his cock with your tongue, you withdrew your lips from his member and rested your head on his thigh. You turned your head to look at him, a small smile gracing your lips.

"Good job, baby." He praised, running his hands through your hair. "You're amazing. But I'm not done yet."

He kneeled in front of you, placing his hands on either side of your head and leaned in to kiss you passionately. Your tongues tangled in a heated embrace as you moaned into each other’s mouths. Xiaojun began to stroke your inner thighs, eliciting a loud gasp from you.

"Xiaojun...please...inside me..." You whimpered, unable to hide your desire.

"Not yet." He whispered huskily. "You've been so good for me already. I don't want to stop just yet."

Xiaojun knelt in front of you, kneeling on the floor. He pulled your legs apart, admiring the view. Your pussy was swollen and wet, calling out to him. He bent down and kissed your inner thigh softly, his breath tickling your skin. You shivered uncontrollably. Xiaojun raised his eyes to meet yours.

"Open your legs wider." He commanded, gently pushing your knees further apart.

"Mmm..." You moaned. "Yes, Xiaojun..."

You were lost in ecstasy as he placed soft kisses on your inner thighs, one by one. You could feel his fingers spreading your moist lips apart, exposing your swollen pink flesh to his gaze. He lowered his head to lick your slit delicately. You could feel your juices beginning to drip down your thighs. Xiaojun lifted his head to stare at your flushed cheeks, grinning widely.

"Your body is perfect." He remarked, tracing the outline of your lips with his index finger.

With one swift motion, he plunged his finger inside of you, making you cry out. He moved his hand slowly, circling your g-spot while also stimulating your clitoris with his thumb. The combination of pleasure overwhelmed you and soon you were clawing at the sofa cushion in an attempt to grab onto something.

"Xiaojun, please...oh my god!" You cried, unable to contain yourself.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" He asked softly, trailing his tongue along your inner thigh.

You nodded vigorously, unable to find words.

"Say it, baby." He urged.

"Please... fuck me." You begged, panting heavily.

Xiaojun got up off the ground and looked at you. You had the cutest blush on your face as you gazed up at him. He cupped your cheek, smiling brightly at you. "Come here."

He walked towards the bedroom, dragging you behind him. Once he got there, he sat on the bed, grabbing your hand and pulling you on top of him.

"Y/N, I love you." He said, brushing your hair out of your eyes. "No matter what happens, no matter where we go, no matter what our life has become... I will always love you. Please believe that."

He looked deep into your eyes, watching as tears began to stream down your face. "I love you too." You choked, tears falling freely.

His eyes softened and he wiped your tears away with his thumbs. "Let's get married. Let's give Dongjun brothers and sisters to play with."

You closed the gap between you and planted a tender kiss on his lips. You felt his erection growing beneath you and slowly maneuvered yourself to sit atop him. His fingers wrapped around your waist as you settled yourself comfortably on top of him. Xiaojun caressed your face with his hands.

"I can't wait to make you my wife." He whispered, looking into your eyes.

He slid one of his hands down to grip your ass, lifting you slightly. You sighed as he pressed himself against you. The tip of his cock nudged against your opening, getting you excited once again. Xiaojun groaned, pressing forward slightly. You threw your head back and forth as you felt his member slip inside of you. Xiaojun leaned down and pulled your lower lip into his mouth, sucking gently on it. You moaned as you felt the fullness inside of you.

"God... Xiaojun, that feels so good." You panted.

He lowered you down and continued to thrust upwards, hitting that sweet spot every single time. His hands held tightly onto your butt as he pulled you harder and harder onto him. Your cries of pleasure echoed throughout the room.

"Oh shit... Y/N... baby, I'm gonna-" He started, but you cut him off with a kiss.

"Xiaojun...not yet..." You mumbled against his lips. "I don't want it to end just yet."

Xiaojun chuckled softly and kissed you deeply. You ran your hands through his hair as you pressed against him. He continued to thrust rhythmically into you, his balls slapping against your ass. You could feel your orgasm approaching rapidly and you moaned loudly.

"Cum for me, baby." Xiaojun ordered.

You dug your nails into his back as he picked up his pace. Xiaojun knew exactly when to slow down or intensify his movements. Every time he touched you in the most intimate of places, it sent chills all throughout your body. Your hands clenched the sheets beneath you, nails scratching against the material. You bit your lip hard as Xiaojun fucked you harder than ever before.

"Baby, I'm gonna..." Xiaojun warned. "Fucking... shoot my load inside of you."

"Fuck, Xiaojun...please!" You cried, grasping at his back. "Cum in me!"

"Ahhh fuck... Y/N!" Xiaojun cried out, losing control. He pulled your hips back to meet his strokes, burying his entire shaft inside of you. You screamed out in pure ecstasy as he filled you with his cum. His cock pulsated inside of you as he came, coating your insides with his warm fluids. Xiaojun fell limply onto the bed beside you, both of you panting heavily. You rolled over to face him, gasping for air. He grinned at you as you traced your fingertips along his jawline.

"That was incredible." You declared, giving him a passionate kiss.

Xiaojun pulled you closer to him and wrapped his arms around your body. You snuggled close to him as you let out a content sigh.

"So what do you say?" Xiaojun whispered into your ear. "Would you like to be my wife?"

"Yes." You whispered back, giggling. "Of course. I want no one but you and Dongjun. Only us. Always."

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