One Night - Prompto x F!Reader
Your friends say you need to get out more. So you have. On your own, in a seedy club, ready to take home the first person who shows an interest. Enter the blonde stranger, who is he and why can't you keep your hand off him?
Porn without plot. Prompto has a one night stand with you. Explicit - sex w/ a stranger, cunnilingus, face fucking, safe sex.
You don't know why you came out on your own, sickly sweet drink in hand, eyes cast out from the bar watching people in nightly rituals. Dancing, laughing; a sea of bodies clamouring together in a drunken haze, vying for attention and chasing some form of satisfaction. You suppose that's why you're here too, to find someone willing to give you the attention you crave, satisfying your every need with a dangerous smile and an unyielding touch. You catch his eye amongst the crowd. Wild cornflowers in a sea of synthetic neon, the only glimmer of reality in a room filled with people trying to escape it. Like you he watches the room but he doesn't partake, leaning against one of the foundation pillars, politely ignoring the people around him. You can't help but notice his obvious beauty from your position at the bar; he's lean, with a fitted shirt and tight, acid-wash jeans. From this distance you can see asymmetric styled blonde hair and you can't help but wonder what it would be like to run your fingers through it.
He sees you, and you stare for a moment before becoming bashful and you turn your eyes the amber liquid in your scuffed tumbler.
Through the murky glass you saw the acid-wash jeans, felt a soft vibrato against your ear despite the thrum of the music and you pick up on the scent of his cologne, expensive. You flick your face up and there he is; a sultry smile and leaning against the bar, closer than what would be acceptable under normal circumstances.
“Sorry, what?” You ask, wondering if you heard him right.
The blonde smiled, leaning in closer, cupping a hand around the back of your ear to channel his voice. “I wondered if you want to dance? I can see you're on your own too, so why not be on your own with me?”
He pulls back granting you your space, giving you time to assess his offer. He's polite, this clearly isn't a normal thing this guy does, and he notices you're in the same position. You think about shooing him away and returning to your drink – just another desperate guy trying to get into your pants. But he watches you, hands playing nervously with the bracelets around his wrists, a sheen of sweat plastered on his face and slender neck; and you notice, his gaze never leaves your face despite your effort to be more mature and stand out with ample cleavage and thick thighs on show, his eyes track yours.
“Sure,” you shrug, knocking back the last of your drink and slamming it on the bar. You take one of his nervous hands and mirror his abashed smile. “Let's see what you've got.”
You lead the blonde by the wrist to the outer-edge of the dance floor. Find a spot on one of the neon tiles to ease into a rhythm without too many people bumping into you, or making you nervous. The air is thick with heat, fake smoke and the heavy smell of liquor. You'd normally be overwhelmed but you find yourself at ease in the strangers company. He's a natural, dancing like he does it everyday of his life; he keeps his distance from you letting you dictate how this plays. He does some goofy moves to make you laugh and twirls you a few times, never touching you more than necessary, it's frustrating to say the least. After a few songs your last cocktail kicks in and you guide his hands around your plump waist, your bodies flush as you bounce your hips from side to side and wrap your arms snugly around the base of his neck. The world slips away, the base, beating feet and drunken exuberance fades into the background. You see only this perfect stranger with lean arms, long fingers and a freckled smile. Gods, he's so cute, and he feels fantastic against you. You push him back, against the same concrete pillar you saw him against. Inhibition lost and lust firmly in control; you kiss him, strangely, you can't taste alcohol on his lips. He's sweet, inexperienced, maybe a little nervous, but not drunk. He links his hands around your back, pulling you closer so you can feel every muscle, every facet of him. His staggered breath billows across your face as he moans, good, it means he's enjoying it as much as you. You pull back, to see his face; his angular eyes lidded and filled with lust. His hands are trembling against your lower back, the beginnings of his erection flush against your exposed thigh.
“You wanna get out of here?” You shout into his ear, nibbling at the lobe as you pull away.
He looks concerned. “Are – are you sure that's what you want?”
“Yeah,” you take him by his hand and navigate to the exit. When you're firmly outside, the rush of cold air sends goosebumps along your body you turn your stranger and ask. “My place or yours?”
He rubs at the back of his neck. “Yours? If you're comfortable with it... and maybe you should let a friend know?”
You're surprised by his noble sentiment as you hail a cab and take out your phone. “Sure big boy, I'll let a friend know – but maybe you should too?”
He now gives you a surprised look. “W-why?”
You press a finger to your lip and slowly lick it. “Safety. You're about to go home with a strange woman. Someone should know you're about to get devoured.” Maybe it was the alcohol that made you brazen, or the abject loneliness you were so used to, or perhaps it was the fact he was so cute and your raging libido couldn't wait to tear into him. For whatever reason, his pink face and the audible gulp got you very excited and stoked an already raging fire.
The ride home was a tense blur, your impatience was staggering, barely able to keep your hands off him, much to the chagrin of the cabby. The stranger threw a few notes out of his wallet at the driver and, as calmly as he could, offered his hand to get you out of the car. You lived in a quiet suburb of the city, a fair sized three bedroomed house with two friends, who were thankfully both at their partner's homes leaving you free reign of the house. You raked through your purse to find the key, excited and suddenly nervous at what you were about to do. You were going to fuck a complete stranger – you were inviting him into your home and your vulnerability. Maybe you should stop, turn round, laugh and send him on his way – you could feel him behind you, hand running down the space between your shoulders. Fingers, delicate and curious as he mapped your skin. You shivered. Delighted by his touch. He planted a kiss on your shoulder.
“You look so fucking hot. Can we go inside now?” He grumbled against your soft skin, almost guttural in nature.
Okay. Your mind is made up.
You open the lock and throw the door open. He's on you in seconds, throwing the door shut, guiding you against the wall and blessing you with a barrage of kisses. His hands are around your face, tilting your head back as he nibbles your skin, face between your cleavage.
“Wait,” he pulls away remembering himself. “Do you live with anyone?”
Your dazed, skin on fire, you almost didn't register it. “Yeah... I have housemates. Should we maybe go to my room?”
You shake your head and he's visibly relieved. How embarrassing would that have been? He sighs in response and then gives you boyish smirk before grabbing you by your thighs and hoisting you onto his his hips.
“Which way?” He asks as his teeth grate against your neck.
Holy shit. He can pick you up, like it's not a problem – you want to protest, but honestly? It's a dream of yours and he doesn't seem to be struggling. “Upstairs, second on the right.”
He kisses you all of the way up the stairs, not fumbling once, finding your room like he's been there a thousand times before. He hoists you with one hand as he opens the door and finds the bed in the dark. He plops you onto it and in a dreamy haze you reach for your bedside lamp. The stranger is flushed, but still very handsome – he takes out his wallet, keys and phone and places them on the top of the tall boy by the door. He looks at your room, decorated in some nerdy paraphernalia and cutesy toys.
“King's Knight? Cute, you'll have to give me your code after this,” he laughs. You think it's the sexiest thing he could probably say to you. He runs his hand through his hair, drawing the long strands away from his pretty face for a moment. Fucking hell, he's gone from cute to godly in seconds. “Now then, where was I?”
He kicks off his boots and crawls over to you on the bed, mattress dipping on either side of you as he hovers over the top. He leans in and kisses your lips, it's delicate – like he's desperately trying to restrain himself. It makes you feel good. He tilts his head and admires you, which is a strange sensation. Most of the time people don't give you a second glance, or look through you. But this guy? He's truly admiring you; you can see it in his eyes, the tensing of his body, the hunger he exudes.
“Before I go any further, I want you to know; you can stop at any time. If you don't like what I do, or find yourself changing your mind. Say – and I will stop. No questions asked. Okay?”
You nod, affirming. “S-sure. Thanks. But, uh, do you think you could fuck me now?”
For the barest of moments he's pink in the face by your bold declaration, but then he sees you, skewed straps, hiked dress and mussed hair; and he thinks to himself, yup I can definitely do that. There is no pretence, he has you out of your dress and your underwear in a heartbeat. The only thing he leaves on, are the blood red heels you drew out of the back of your closet for the evening. I've always wanted to fuck a girl in heels, he tells you as kisses your ankles and trails lazily down your curved calves and round thighs. He's kissing you again, long, teasing twists of his lips against every part of your heated body. He's so invested in tasting you, you've resigned, settled for lying back and rolling your fingers across his forearms, soft hair and angular jaw when you can catch it. The stranger takes one of your full breasts into his mouth, leaving red marks and slurping vigorously against the supple skin. You arch into it, allowing for him to reach underneath your back and dig his fingers into the knots of your spine. Astrals, this guy can come back here anytime.
He moves from your breasts to your stomach, and you're grateful for the reprieve. Your nipples are hard and sensitive and you're not sure how much more attention they can take, but your stomach has been a sore spot for you for a long time.
“You're gorgeous,” he whimpers into the dimpled, scarred flesh of your stomach. You grumble, turning your head into the covers. The stranger pulls away, concerned. “Do you think I'm teasing you?” And he leans over, guiding your chin to look at him. No, you admit, you don't think he is. You can feel his erection on your pelvis, his attraction is evident. Then he realises your quarry and gives a small laugh. “I'm wearing too much aren't I? Here let me –” He sits upright and is basking in the warm glow of your bedside lamp. Slowly he unbuttons his crisp shirt, and you're not disappointed. A lean, freckled chest with definite abs and – stretch marks? They're all over his stomach and hips. Silver remnants of a heavy-set childhood barely covered by the trail of blond hair from his belly button down. Now all he's wearing is the jeans, those bracelets and is that a necklace with the Lucian crest on? Just who the hell was this guy? You reach for the stretch marks all the same, feather light as you look at him with curiosity.
“See,” he smiles, not bothering to hide the way you touch him makes him feel. “Should I keep going?”
You nod enthusiastically and he moves further down your body, nestling himself between your thighs. He nibbles on the inside of your thighs firstly, sharp eyes watching your every reaction. You can feel your core pulsing as he ghosts over your pelvis and you let out a pained whine. He laughs an apology and anchors himself to your hips before diving right in, tearing the air from your lungs. How long has it been since someone had eaten you out? Months? Years? Didn't matter. The other attempts were mediocre compared to this stranger. His pastel pink lips and expert tongue drew sounds from you that no one else would ever be able to make. His long hands dug into the meat of your expansive hips and held you there, despite how much you wanted to wriggle away or buck into his face. Your hands dug into your hair, trailed down your body and pulled at your already sensitive nipples, and he groaned, you felt it deep in your heat. He buried his tongue into your walls dragging it across every drop of your arousal, addicted to your heat, your smell, your taste.
You feel a twinge in the pit of your stomach, first orgasm of the night arriving fast. “I'm gonna – ” You warn him through gritted teeth, wanting to be composed but coming undone at the mounting, inescapable pleasure.
He withdraws from your sopping cunt and focuses solely on your clit, suckling, flicking and teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves until you flash white, your body tensing as the unmistakable but more intense pleasure explodes through your body. You collapse against your bed, gasping for air, riding along with the aftershocks. The strangers pulls himself to his knees, and wipes his chin, licking his fingers clean, watching you becoming a gasping mess on your bedsheets. You can see his cock twitching in his too tight jeans.
“You've done that before,” you comment through slowing gasps of air, body tingling.
“What makes you say that?”
You smile, drawing yourself up and bringing yourself onto your knees to face him(even though the heels bunched up around your bed sheets). If it weren't for the fact he was pink in the face and covered in your slick you'd say it was innocent question. You pull him to your breast, kissing him on the mouth, feeling him moan into you as you taste yourself on his tongue. You run your hands over his chest, shoulders and collarbone. Getting your own back after his over stimulation of your body, kissing every part of his beautifully freckled skin; noticing the tattoo on his wrist but saying nothing beyond plying a kiss to it. He throws his head back as your affections reach the hem of his jeans.
“You're still wearing too much,” you hum as you drag your tongue along his hips. Your eyes flash to his as you reach for the button and the zip. “Let me help you with that.”
He's not wearing any underwear, you think to yourself as you pull away the faded jeans from his hips. He looks embarrassed, but you think it's kinda hot. That entire time you were dancing his bare skin was so close to you. You should have asked him to fuck you on the dance floor, who would have known? You rub your legs together at the fantasy and eye the stranger hungrily, his rock hard erection bobbing in front of your eyes.
He bites his lip, the scene erotic beyond compare. A beautiful stranger in her cute high heels on her hands and knees, eyeing his dick like it's her last meal – but he's nervous and he can't tell her this is the first time. “You don't have to –” But his words are strangled, by the soft pop of your plush lips against the tip of his length and the warm, hungry drag of your tongue and teeth. His hips wobble and he grabs onto you, hands on either side of your hair, pulling it away from your scalp so he can see the lust in your eyes. Through the pleasure he can feel the ridges on the top of your mouth, the small buds along your velvet tongue, and the silky inside of your mouth. Fuck. That feels good. But the sounds? Even better. You moan with trepidation as you take more of his length into your mouth, he's bigger than you thought but he trembles with excitement so you continue. You make as many debauched, slick sounds around his length as you can, all the while fondling his balls. He can't take it. His hands curl around the base of your neck and he thrusts forward, pelvis hitting your nose. You gargle at the fullness, not being able to breathe, and look at him in shock. The sound almost sends him over the edge, but he remembers himself and pulls out of your mouth completely, a single thread of saliva connecting them.
“I'm so sorry! Are you alright?” He asks, fully prepared for the encounter to be over.
Your body is tingling. Brimming with electricity and desire.
He looks at you with uncertainty.
“Fuck my mouth again,” you command, opening your mouth wide.
The stranger lets out a strangled moan before his rams his cock into the back of your throat. His hands grasp under your soft chin to hold you still and feel as his cock glides over the skin. You feel raw, excited, overwhelmed. You've never done anything like this before, but for that look on his face you'll do it again. You can tell he's getting close, his hips tense and his long fingers clasp tighter around your jaw and your rosy cheeks. Drool is streaming down your mouth mixed with tears and pre-cum. He tastes musky and sweet, you can taste him more as you try to breath through your nostrils. You look at him, dazed, enjoying yourself as he pounds himself into your mouth. Suddenly his whole body tenses up and he cries out, sweat covering his body like a gloss. His seed spills down your throat and it lingers in the basin of your mouth as he pulls out and flops onto his knees, softer but still hard. You make a show of showing him his own spill in your mouth, gobbling it up greedily as it tries to escape down your chin.
That little act gets him riled up again and he pounces you, your back to the bed, drawing you into a sloppy kiss. “As much as I want to take you like this,” he grits his teeth. “And I really do. Where do you keep the condoms?”
You reach over and tap the top drawer of the beside table and it's not long before he's found the little foil packet, torn it open and placed the condom on with quivering hands. He's smiling, giving you a little nervous laughter as he pushes stray hairs away from your face.
“Gods, I'm a lucky dude.” You laugh at him, has he seen himself? That lean, athletic body splattered in freckles and fair blonde hair is like a fucking feast to you after the famine that was your sex life. You wanted to gorge yourself on his scars and stretch marks; you wanted to drown in the heavenly scent of his cologne, body wash and natural scent. He was the lucky one? How the hell had you found him again... oh yeah. “You still wanna do this?”
You find yourself nodding once more, grabbing by the base of his cock and guiding it to your entrance. He's laughing, part nerves, part your enthusiasm for him. “Yes, I still want this. Now would you please get inside of me.”
You can see him shivering at your words as he takes over guiding himself. He stills as his hips meet yours, and you can see the adams apple in his neck bobbing as he tries his hardest to stay cool. But you're so hot, the way you look under him and the way you feel around him – the stranger takes you by the hips and starts to move.
He fucks like a dream, all kisses and soft touches until he looses control and he's barrelling into you like your life depends on it. You feel like this guy's girlfriend not a one night stand, as he grunts sweet platitudes into your skin with each thrust. And his stamina? Fuck. He takes you a grand total of three times. First in missionary, second in cowgirl so he can see you swallow him and feel your soft skin as you bounce on top. The third time he takes you from behind, slowly, languid; he curls his sticky, sweet body around yours and pumps lazily as he plays with your clit and tits, his neck buried into the back of your shoulder. You scream out out for a final time, hoarse and overstimulated. Feeling as he pumps yet another load into another condom. The stranger is huffing behind you, but he's still touching you; how does he have so much energy? You roll over, finally kicking your shoes off and watching the barest glimmer of sunlight dancing off his dappled skin. For a fleeting moment you find yourself thinking you wouldn't mind waking up to this every day. His hair is mussed, style ruined by your activity, but strands still dance across his handsome face. His long eyelashes batter at you as he tries his best to stay awake. You can see the tops of his toned thighs from under the covers and your mesmerised by the patches of fuzzy blonde hair and lean muscles.
Tenderly, you run your hand along his hip and up his chest. “You should shower.”
The stranger rubs at his sleepy face. “Is that alright with you?”
“Sure, wouldn't want you going back to wherever smelling like a night of regret.”
“But I don't regret it...”
There's a twinge in your stomach and forgoing a response, you wobble out of bed to grab some towels and lead him to the bathroom. He insisted on a shower together where he got you off one more time before getting clean and laughing the whole time. You watched him get ready, the confidence and electricity from your night together was fading but he still looked really cute, if not a bit concerned with your eyes on him.
“You've never done this before, have you?” You commented from your spot on the bed as he buttoned up his shirt.
The stranger paused, running a hand through his hair. “No...” he admitted. “Have you?”
“No...last night was the first time.” You shrug, it's fine to tell him, if he was upfront with you.
There's a curl of a smile, he looks like a school boy admitting his crush. “That's a relief, you're so cool and collected about the whole thing. But thanks, I had a great time – it was what I needed.”
“Glad to be of service,” you took a bow, despite the aches in your body.
He was ready now, expensive phone in hand, obviously messaging a ride home. “Listen, I know this isn't the 'done' thing. But – I enjoyed this. Can I see you again? We don't have to – uh, y'know? I could take you for coffee or or lunch.”
He is cute, but are you ready for this? You look at how bashful he's become, half an hour ago his hand was between your thighs making you see the astrals, now he can't even say the word. What the hell. You scrambled for a pen and notebook. Your work one would have to do. “Sure, leave your name and number. I'll get back to you.” He scrawls on the page, clearly not used to writing and on it you see three pieces of info his phone number, a name and – “Your King's Knight user, I presume, Lokton?”
His sharp, flawless teeth are bared. “What can I say, I appreciate a girl that likes King's Knight. Miss?”
“ChocoboPrincess. You'll have to wait until our date to find out my real name, Prompto,” you were dazed, still a little drunk and thoroughly exhausted by your sexual escapades, but the idea of a date had you excited all over again.
His phone buzzed, and he dashed over the side of the room to see the taxi out front. “My ride's here,” he pulled you into a sweet kiss, the heavy scent of expensive cologne filled your nostrils. “Thanks for everything, Princess. I'll see you again, soon. And prepare yourself for a butt whooping. I am a seasoned Pro.”
You pushed Prompto back playfully. “Dude, I signed up for the beta. You my friend, are fucked.”
You escorted him down the stairs, and waved him off at the front door. Watching as even in the first light and on no sleep what so ever he was full of beans. You on the other hand were exhausted, you retreated back into the house, crawled up the stairs and slunk into bed. The sheets retained the smell of him, you took a deep breath and breathed him in. It wasn't the night you were expecting, but it would be one you'd never forget. You reached for your handbag and your phone, entering his details between yawns.
Alright Mr.KingsKnight pro. You. Me. Coffee. Next saturday @ Ebony Roasters in the central plaza. Midday don't be late. Your heart was racing. Was that too quick? Almost immediately your phoned buzzed.
ah! there is my Princess. cool. coffee it is. see u soon. now get sum sleep!
You threw your phone onto the night stand with giddy delight, you had a date. So much for this being a one night stand. Your room mates we're going to flip when the found out, you thought as you drifted off into a heavy sleep.
