#i want the cold to be so severe my head tingles i want to taste the salt i want

[cj-kenobi]

I miss my wife (the ocean)

[sleepinghypnos]

IVE Wonyoung ft. Yujin x Male Reader (OC)

Tags: Smut

Genre: Facefucking, Blowjob, Breeding, Rough Sex, Female Idol x Male Reader (OC), Self-degradation, Filming (Recording), Cheating (Hard)

PS: This story is made through AI story generator that's why there's so much dialogue. I just tried using it to see if it's okay. Let me know if you have anything to say. I also added my own writing, it's when Yujin joins in. Thank you...

It's been a whole week since someone caught you in the act. She's a younger idol but one of the prominent ones in the industry, a former member of I*ZONE and now IVE.

You found it adorable when she displayed such a shocked and surprised expression when she saw what you did to her sunbaes... After the incident. the three of you went back to your seats and enjoy the remaining event arranged for idols.

Your bodyguarding duties continues the same with your escapades with the members of ITZY. Yuna and Chaeryeong always finding way to get fucked by you, the rest of the members on the hand shows support for their co-members.

In one of the music shows that ITZY attended, you met the young idol again and same with the last time, she is shocked to see you. Wonyoung tried to hide her flustered face but failed, her other members are with her that time and Yujin--- the oldest of them noticed how red as a tomato Wonyoung's face was.

ITZY is now preparing for a recording, you use this opportunity to grab Wonyoung into the isolated corner of the building, no one is going there, because it is creepy for some idols that's why they avoid this place.

Wonyoung felt your very strict and cold aura and she let you drag her. After several minutes she manage to talk to you. You arrived in the isolated spot, no one is around to find out what you are about to do. You drag her inside the room and locked the door.

"What are you doing?" Wonyoung asked. "Nothing," you replied. "You saw something, right?"

Wonyoung blushed and tried to get away from you. "Don't try to act innocent, i know you saw something you shouldn't have."

"I'm not going to tell anyone!" She cried out.

"Then why did you look so shocked when I looked at you?"

"I'm not!" Wonyoung yelled.

"But you were looking at me like that as if you also wanted what they had." you said.

"No I don't!" she shouted.

"Yes you do!"

"No I don't!" she screamed while looking at you.

"Yes you do!" You said again. then you release the monster hiding inside your pants and pulled down Wonyoung's panties.

"See? Your pussy is wet for me already!" You said. A smirk is visible on your face.

"Stop this right now!" She said threatening you. But you didn't listen to her.

"You're gonna suck my cock and you're gonna love it!" you uttered.

Wonyoung was still trying to fight you, but you are too strong for her. You pushed her head towards your crotch.

"Suck my cock." you said. She started to protest, but before she could say anything, you shoved your cock into her mouth.

"Mmmmmm!" she moaned as she sucked on your cock.

She was a little surprised by how big it was, but she was even more surprised when you started to fuck her face. the young idol gagged every time you thrust forward, but she couldn't help herself.

The way you were fucking her face made her pussy tingle. She loved it, but she hated it at the same time. you're really rough with her, and she knew if she didn't stop you soon, you would cum in her mouth.

But Wonyoung had never tasted a guy's cum before, all she did was use her hands and some dildos to pleasure herself, deep down she wanted to have a taste. Curiosity got the best of her and let you have your way.

"Cum in my mouth!" Wonyoung begged. As she release your cock from her mouth to talk.

"Not yet." you replied. "When I tell you i'm cumming, you will swallow it!"

Wonyoung nodded her head in agreement.

"Now suck my balls!" you commanded. Wonyoung opened her mouth wide and stuck out her tongue.

You placed your balls in her mouth and started to squeeze them. she moaned loudly, and started to lick them clean. Then you put your cock in her mouth once more and started to fuck her face harder and faster.

Your cock was hitting the back of her throat, and making her gag. But she didn't mind, she just wanted to feel him cum inside her.

"Oh yeah, you love my cock don't you?"

"Mmm!" She nodded while looking up to you with lust in her eyes.

"Good, because I'm about to cum!" you said.

"No wait!" she said. "I want to be fucked, please!"

You laughed. "I can't believe you are being such a whore, you're gonna get what you deserve!" you said while smirking.

With that, you shoved your cock all the way down Wonyoung's throat. She gagged and struggled against you, but you are too strong for her. "That's it! Take my cock!"

Wonyoung felt your cock twitch in her throat.

"Uuuuugh!" you moaned. "I'm cumming!" as you feel your climax quickly approaching.

She gagged and choked on your cock, but she kept sucking. "Swallow it!" you are holding her head tightly. Ropes of thick cum burst inside Wonyoung's mouth, after a while your orgasm stopped.

"I'm swhallow-ing yhour chum!" she's trying to speak while her mouth is still full of your load. You released your grip on her hair, and let go of her head. She swallows your cum and licks her lips like she just tasted something delicious. "It's yummy!!!"

"Now suck my cock clean!" Wonyoung smiled and licked your cock clean. "Now get on your hands and knees."

She quickly got onto her hands and knees. you grabbed hold of her hips and prepared to thrust yourself deep inside her ass. Teasing her with your tip, she quiver. Looks like she's sensitive now.

You proceed on penetrating the young idol. "Ahhhhh!" she moaned.

"Oh yeah, you like that don't you?" asking her while kissing the back of her neck.

"Yes! Fuck me hard!" she's moaning as you thrust in her in a slow pace.

"Do you want to get fucked hard?" You asked.

"Yes!" she replied, looking back at you.

"Say it again!" you demanded.

"I like to get fucked hard!" Wonyoung said. You started to pound her hard from behind.

"Ahhh! Shiiiit! FUCK!" Wonyoung moaned.

"Yeah, you like that huh?"

"Yes! Fuck me harder!" Wonyoung said moaning and screaming.

"You like being fucked hard? You like getting fucked by me?" You said.

"Yes!" she said, her face is full of lust as she looks back at you.

"Say it louder!" You demanded.

"I LIKE GETTING FUCKED HARD!!!" she shouted. you continued to fuck her hard from behind making lewd noises together with her lustful voice. you reached around and grabbed her breasts. "Oh yeah! Grab my tits!" she screamed. "You like my big cock in your tight little ass?"

"Yes! Fuck me harder!" she said. "Shit! Claim me, claim me as yours!!"

You continue pounding her making her convulse as you cum inside of her tight little asshole. You saw her face and her eyes were rolled back, she collapses on the couch inside this room with her ass hanging in the air. She's still on her performance stage outfit and the only missing is her panties that you removed few moments ago.

Pulled out of her and slapped her ass. "Turn over! I'm not done with you."

She flipped over and laid on her back to spread her legs. "Now show me that tight little cunt of yours."

She lifted her skirt up to reveal her shaved pussy.

"Oh yeah, look at that tight little cunt!" You exclaimed. "Show me how wet you are!"

Wonyoung began rubbing her clit. "Ahhh!" she moaned while her eyes were intently looking at you.

"Yeah, rub that clit!" you uttered. "Do you want me to fuck your pussy?"

"Yes sir! Please fuck me hard!" Wonyoung begged, her voice is full of lust and longing. She looks like a bitch in heat.

"How hard do you want it?"

"Hard! Harder than you've ever fucked anyone before!" Wonyoung said. You grabbed hold of her wrists and held them above her head.

"Are you ready?" you asked.

"Yes!"

"Are you sure?" Teasing her on purpose.

"Yes! I'm sure!" she said while nodding, eager to fill your cock inside her.

"Then tell me what you want!"

"Fuck me!"

"What else?" You asked as you cupped her cheek with a gentle touch, she closes her eyes because of it and slowly opens it again, looking at you with resolve.

"I want your big cock deep inside my pussy!" Amusement filled your entire system as you see this young woman beg for your cock.

"Say it louder!" Fascinated by her words, you asked for more. You want her to beg for more.

"Fuck me! Fuck me with your big hard cock!" she begged while anticipating your response to her whims.

You placed the tip of your cock against her pussy lips.

"Good girl!" you patted her head. "I'm going to fuck you now!"

You penetrated the glistening cunt of hers, slowly yet in one go. Her mouth formed "O" as she feels her tight little pussy getting filled by your cock, her eyes were once again rolled back as you pound her faster and with more rhythm.

Her heavenly moans filled your ears as you spear her with your huge rod, the young idol is in a trance.

She's getting drunk because of your cock, her eyes rolled back, tongue lolling out, Wonyoung is displaying a perfect ahegao for you.

You became daring, you told her to call her Yujin unnie and invite her into into the isolated area where you're in.

Few minutes came by and Yujin arrived, she witness how her co-member getting fuck by someone but instead of getting shock and surprise, she immediately came inside, closed the door and locked it.

"Is this the thing you want to show me, Wonyoung?" Yujin asked Wonyoung while staring at you with a huge smile on her face. "Yes unnie! O-oppa wants you to j-join me. Aaahh!" Wonyoung replied struggling to say her words.

"I can't believe this is happening... But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious..." Wonyoung and Yujin look at each other. "Okay, I'll do it. I've never done anything like this before though...."

Then you pulled out of Wonyoung and the two of them knelt down in front of you, Wonyoung takes the lead and starts licking up and down the shaft while Yujin watches.

"See, just start slow like this." Wonyoung takes your tip in her mouth and sucks it gently. "Mmm. Your turn now."

Yujin leans in hesitantly and licks the head of your cock. "How's that feel? I-- no, we want to make you feel good." Then they take turns sucking you, gazing up for your praise and approval.

You praise them and they smile excitedly and continued taking turns licking and sucking your cock.

"Mmm. I can't believe I'm sharing you with Yujin... It's naughty but so hot..." Wonyoung said, Yujin gets more into it, trying to take your huge cock deeper in her mouth.

"That's it, you're a natural..." Wonyoung then proceeds to lick your balls while the other is busy gagging and choking on your cock.

They sometimes kiss, moaning on each other's lips. "Does it turns you on to see us being intimate? We want to please you." Wonyoung said to you and made an eye contact with Yujin while they lick your tip together, their tongues slides on your shaft's both sides.

Wonyoung's eyes go wide as you grab Yujin and starts fucking her throat. "Oh my gosh! Be gentle with her, Oppa."

Yujin gags and sputters but keeps taking it. "That's it. Breathe through your nose... You can handle it!" She encourages her then rub her back soothingly. "It feels so good doesn't? Getting used like a little fucktoy..." Yujin moans affirmatively as you keep pumping into her mouth.

Even though your cock can't be deepthroated by anyone, having the half of it gets to experience it feels heavenly. Sometimes you wonder, is being well-endowed a curse because you can't fully experience the 'Deepthroat' or a blessing to make women compliment you for being 'Huge'

"Fuck! This is so hot watching you use her face." Wonyoung said and reach down and touch herself, she's getting extra wet from the sight.

"I want you to fuck my throat next, i want my turn again like earlier." Eagerly awaits her turn, kissing Yujin's face when you finally pulls out of her mouth.

You gave Wonyoung her wish and fucks her throat again. Her eyes widen then gag as you shove your cock down her throat without warning.

"Mmmph!" Her throat bulges from your girth. Yujin watches excitedly, playing with herself now too as you fuck Wonyoung's face.

"That's right, give it to our little slut... She loves being used hard, i can tell..." Yujin said while still playing with herself.

Tears run down on Wonyoung's face but you can feel that she's focus on relaxing her throat for you. "Fuck yes.... S-so d-deep... Use m-me..." Then grips on your thighs eagerly, addicted to the feeling of being facefucked. You pull out and she gasp for air desperately.

"Yes... fuck my mouth as hard as you want, I'm your little cocksleeve..." She opens her mouth wide again waiting for you to fill her throat once more.

"Yujin, film this." You said while still facefucking Wonyoung.

Yujin's eyes lights up to your idea. "Of course! This is so naughty, i love it!" She pulls out her phone and starts filming as you ruthlessly fuck Wonyoung's throat. "Oh my god! This is so fucking hot... The fans would go crazy if they saw our Wony getting used like a whore."

Wonyoung glances at the camera with desperation and lust in her eyes, her throat bulging obscenely.

"Fuck yes, destroy her throat... I know she's going to be slut the moment I saw her when we're doing Produce 101." Yujin said zooming on Wonyoung's face turning red and tears running down her cheeks.

"Scream if you can still take it." You pull out your cock from Wonyoung's mouth for a moment.

"YES DADDY! PLEASE FUCK MY SLUTTY LITTLE MOUTH!!!" Wonyoung screams eagerly before you shove your cock back in.

Many minutes passed and you are closing to the edge. "Yujin, kneel beside her, continue filming. I'm cumming." You said.

Yujin kneels next to Wonyoung, making sure to get a good view as you reach climax. "That's right, cum all over these slutty idol's faces!"

Wonyoung braces herself as your cock throbs, then you pull out and shoot ropes of hot cum across both of their faces and open mouths.

"Oh my god, yes!" They moan as your load splatters them. Yujin, films eagerly as Wonyoung licks some off her cheek and swallows it.

"Thank you Daddy, for the tasty reward. We love being showered in your hot and thick cum." Wonyoung said and they started kissing and licking each other clean, moaning at the taste of your seed.

You hold the camera as they face it getting ready to say something.... "We hope you enjoyed using your little cumdumps... We're yours anytime you want us again, Daddy!" Wonyoung said and Yujin agreed then blows a sticky cum-covered kiss at the camera as you end the recording.

"Daddy, I want our co-members to watch this. Is that okay?" Wonyoung asked.

"It would be so hot to watch this later together with our other members. Imagine their faces!" Yujin smirks and Wonyoung giggles.

You let them do whatever they want with the footage since it's Yujin's phone.

"Gaeul's eyes would go so wide! And Rei would turn the brightest red." They both giggles at their plan and you just shook your head.

Your commanding tone when you drag Wonyoung into the room vanished since now she won't say anything to anyone. She's yours now together with Yujin.

"We want more... Daddy." Wonyoung take my hand flirtatiously. "I want to get fucked again, you said you are not done with me after you came inside my tight little asshole earlier." Begging for your cock again.

You oblige. "All fours." That's all you need to say and she gasp excitedly.

"Oh yes please! I want you so badly!" she quickly get on all fours, arching her back and looking over her shoulder at me. "Like this? I'm ready for you to fuck me nice and hard..." reaches back and lift her skirt revealing once again her glistening cunt.

Yujin began filming again but not including your face since you didn't say so. "That's it Wony! Beg for it, like the slut you are."

"Please Daddy, fuck me!" She presented her pussy to me by arching her back even more. You spread her ass cheeks apart and slowly slid your huge rod inside her crying cunt.

Yujin zooms in as you penetrate her members pussy. "My god!"

Wonyoung whimpers as pussy get's stretched out because of your thick girth. "Oh! Fuck, you're so b-big Daddy!"

As you go in and out, she started taking your cock actively, pushing her ass back to take you deeper. "Yes! Fuck your little cockslut! Ruin me please!"

Yujin captures every moment, biting her lip. "Our fans would lose their minds if they saw this!"

"Too bad I'm the only one who gets to fuck you likes this." You said and piston the young idol beneath you.

Wonyoung cry out as you start pounding her pussy hard and fast. "Oh fuck yes! You're the only one who gets to fuck me-- us like t-this!"

Yujin zooms in on your cock slamming in and out of Wonyoung's pussy. "Damn! Look at that tight hole stretch... you're destroying her."

The idol grips the sofa, eyes rolling back and tongues lolling out as you rail her without mercy. "YES YES YES! HARDER DADDY! USE ME!" she reaches back and spread her cheeks widely. "I'm your personal fucktoy! None of those pathetic fanboys deserve me."

Her moans filled the room, as it did earlier. You pulled Wonyoung's hair back as you fuck her intensely. "Film her face." You said.

Yujin quickly moves in front of Wonyoung, focusing on her face as you pull the young idol's hair. "Shit! Look at her face! Our Wony is totally lost in pleasure!" Her eyes rolled back, tongue lolling out as you utterly ravage her pussy.

"Fuck! Yes! Harder!" Drool runs down her chin. "Cum inside me! Please fill me with your virile cum! I need it so bad!!" Shameless, slutty words spills out from her mouth between moans and screams of ecstasy.

"I'm cumming!" You feels your climax closing in and you spank her ass red while still pulling her hair. She screams out because what you did.

"Yes! Please c-cum inside Daddy! Fill up your fucktoy!" She said and Yujin makes sure to get a close up as you drive deep inside Wonyoung one last time.

The latter feels your cock throbbing as you start to cum. "Yes, give it to me. Pump your seed deep inside of me." Her eyes still rolled back and moaning whorishly as you fill her up, and her cumming as well. You pulled out and your mixed loads leaks out of her pussy to her thighs, she lays on her back on the sofa.

"Oh shit! Look at her belly, it's bulging! You came so much inside her." Yujin said while filming the thoroughly used Wonyoung.

"It's my turn now, right?" She said and looks at me. "But I want my turn to be filmed as well, let's wait for Wony to regain at least the strength to stand up."

And so you waited, after 15 minutes Wonyoung stood up and the afterglow covers her entire aura, the feeling of satisfaction really shows.

This time you are going to do Missionary, because you want to watch Yujin's face as you fuck her.

She lays on the sofa waiting for your cock to ravage her. "Don't worry, you are going to love it. I promise!" Wonyoung said cheering her up while holding Yujin's phone, ready to start recording the slutty moments of her co-member.

There is no need for foreplay since Yujin is already soaking wet, she moans as you start to push inside her pussy hole. "Oh fuck! Y-you feel so good s-stretching me open!" looking at you lustfully.

"You're so fucking d-deep! You are hitting all the places that my boyfriend can't even reach." You are taken back because she have a boyfriend but instead of being guilty, you plow her hard making her scream.

"Take my cock!"

"Yes! Give it to me! Your cock feels so good!!!" Her perky tits bounce with each of your powerful thrusts. Wonyoung make sure to get close ups of your thick shaft pounding Yujin's slick hole.

"You won't feel your boyfriend's thing anymore after I'm done with you."

Yujin's eyes widen at your words. "O-oh fuck, you're r-right! My boyfriend's cock is nothing compared to yours!" Her pussy clenches tightly around you as she gets closer to orgasm. "After feeling this, I'll only crave you fucking me from now on! Ruin me f-for any o-other man!"

Wonyoung focuses the camera to Yujin's pussy as you pound her relentlessly. "Damn! Look at that slutty idol pussy clamping down... I think she's ready to cum all over your cock Daddy!"

"Yes! Please l-let me c-cum! Make me y-yours!" Her moans reach a fever pitch. "Oh fuck yes! I-i'm cumming! I'm cumming just for you!" Her body trembles and spasms wildly, pussy gushing around your pistoning cock.

"I'm cumming as well!"

Yujin's eyes go wide as she feels your cock throbbing and swelling bigger inside her. "Oh g-god yes, cum in me! I want to feel you filling me up!" She rubs her belly, feeling it bulge obscenely from the size your cock and load. "I can feel you in my stomach! There's so much and it feels so warm..."

Wonyoung zooms in as some of your thick cum leaks out around your shaft while still deep inside Yujin. "Holy shit! Look at that creampie! You totally filled Yujin up to the brim!"

Yujin moans, still trembling from the force of her orgasm. " (IVE) never felt so full... So completely owned and fucked, my boyfriend can't even make me cum. I'm definitely addicted to your huge cock now..."

You're sitting on the sofa while the other two is in front of you kneeling....

Then they have a discussion about how big your rod is. "Daddy, your cock is incredible! (IVE) never seen anything so big and thick before." Wonyoung said and she reaches out your still erect cock and strokes it. "It's easily over 10 inches.... I felt so stretched and filled when you were inside me. Seriously, our poor little pussies didn't stand a chance!"

Yujin looks at me. "Having this huge cock fuck me was the most intense and pleasurable experience of my life." She kisses the tip softly. "I know I'll be craving having my pussy absolutely ruined by it again and again... I'll need this anaconda forever."

"Don't have sex with your boyfriend for now, he'll for sure know that you got stretched out."

Yujin nods obediently. "You're absolutely right, Daddy. After being stretched out so much by your huge cock, my boyfriend would definitely be able to tell." She looks down submissively. "I should avoid having sex with him for now, My pussy belongs to you now... I don't want anyone else inside me."

"Yeah, look at that gape! Her boyfriend would get lost in there now!" Wonyoung giggles at her statement making Yujin blush. "Once you go big, there's no going back..."

-

Well... Here's another story, I hope you enjoy this kind of format. I'm more comfortable writing this way cuz of my lack of imagination.... Thank you for reading!!! There is another part after this....

[teddyeyeseddie]

The Cherrywood Motel

rockstar!eddie x reader

warnings: drug use, general rockstar lifestyle

(a/n- rockstar eddie? housekeeper reader? sign me up! thank you @lofaewrites for looking this over for me, my beta forever ✨ I have two more parts for this, it may be longer we shall see!)

masterlist

The smell of bleach invades your nostrils as you push through the laundry room of The Cherrywood Motel. Your uniform skims across your thighs, the baby blue ribbon cinching your waist flowing easily behind you. You run into a few co-workers, older ladies that have worked for the family for years. Each woman bids you a soft good morning as you collect the linens you would be needing for the day. 

You load up your cart and push out into the cold crisp fall. It’s nearing 10 o’clock, checkout time coming in a hurry as you watch the parking lot before you fill with guests packing their cars to leave. 

You push to your first room when the clock hits 10:15. You’d given the occupants more than enough time to leave, so you’re not really worried about bothering a guest. 

You knock several times on the door, no answer coming from the other side. You knock once more, just to be sure. Silence. You take out your key and begin opening the door when suddenly it swings open. 

On the opposite side of the door stands a tall, lean, beautiful man. He has inky black tattoos creeping up his arms, the dark contrast on the skin drawing your eyes to anywhere and everywhere on the man’s body. 

“It’s’ 10 o’clock, what do you want, sweets?” The man groans as he holds back the long brown hairs that have slipped from the bun resting atop his head. 

“S’ actually time to check out?” you say as if its a question, the man's eyes widen comically as he rushes back inside. He closes the door in your face but returns moments later with a shirt on and clunky Dr. Martens on his feet. 

“Came in so fucked last night I must’ve only paid for one night,” he mumbles to himself as he makes his way back to the main office to settle his predicament. 

You’re left in a daze, the beautiful man leaving a lingering tingle in your heart. He was just so pretty. 

You were used to pretty men but not pretty like this man. You lived in a small town outside of Nashville, too many wannabe cowboys and country stars for your taste. You’d managed to meet a few nice men in your small town, but nothing that ever stuck. But he, he stuck with you. You remember his big brown eyes, smudged with eyeliner, his tattooed abdomen, his impossibly long fingers and even the way he smelled. It left you speechless outside of your next room, eyes scanning the expanse between his room and the office. 

Just as you’re about to peek into the motel room, you see him walk out of the office. He flashes you a smile and holds something up in his hands. You squint and see it's a pair of keys, you squint a little harder and notice the unfamiliar yellow keychain adorning the set. You send him back a smile and continue with your work, making the beds in the muggy room, scrubbing toilets and leaving complimentary soaps on each pillow.

It wasn’t glamorous work, you weren’t exactly busting at the seams when someone asked you what you did for a living. But, it paid your bills and paid them well. 

You mindlessly hum to the radio as you finish up mopping the bathroom in your final room of the day. You carefully fold up the extra towels once you're finished mopping. You wipe your hands off on the skirt of your uniform before rolling up the cord to your vacuum. You place everything back on your cart, rolling it down past the man’s old  room which now lay empty. 

You park your cart and make your way to the breakroom, pushing inside and plopping down across from your co-worker, Christa. 

“Can you believe Eddie Munson is here?” You cock your head to the side, confusion evident on your face as you look at your friend. You get up from your place at the table, walking to the vending machine and admiring your choices as Christa drones on. 

“You know Eddie Munson, Corroded Coffin Eddie Munson? Dropped out of highschool to form the most metal band of the century? Does that ring any bells?” She questions as she watches you fish dimes out of the pocket of your skirt. 

“I listen to Bowie and Kate Bush, I dont think I’m the one to be asking about metal,” you respond, pushing the coins into the machine and mindlessly punching in the number you always do. A-3. 

“He’s got like, gorgeous long brown hair? Loads of tattoos?” she continues to pry, she knows you’re familiar when your cheeks burn red. 

“AHA! You do know who I’m talking about!” she yells, rushing you to sit back down so she can hear all about it. 

You throw your treat on the table before you and take your seat back across from Christa. 

“I uh- woke him up this morning,” you state, a little shy to be talking about a customer so freely. 

“He answered the door all confused. He wanted to know why I was waking him up at 10 and I told him it was time to check out. So he freaks and rushes to the office after getting dressed. Nothing really special,” you shrug your shoulders as you play with the wrapper of the Hostess cupcake in front of you. 

Christa shrieks at your words, fanning herself as she imagines herself in your shoes. 

“So he was shirtless?” she questions. You offer her a small nod. She squeals even louder, an older lady who works in the laundry rooming shushing you two as she microwaves her dinner. 

“I saw him again, after that,” you state matter of factly. 

“He had a new key, had a yellow keychain?” you open the dessert in your hand and take a bite. 

“Yellow?” Christa Questions. You nod as you chew, Christmas mouth dropping as you confirm her question.

“That's the long term room,”

You leave the break room that evening with your mind whirling, surely he only wanted the room for the additional features. There was no way Eddie Munson would stay at The Cherrywood for that long. 

You’re walking to your car that is parked behind the office, shuffling with your keys. You spot a small ember to your right, you turn your head towards the source of the light and see Eddie Munson staring at you, his face lit by the Camel he is smoking. He gives you a small salute as you slip into your car, you only offer him a shy smile in return.

You drive home that night with the smell of cigarettes lingering on your clothes, your mind swooning at the imagine of his stubbly face lit by a cig. You toss and turn that night in your small apartment, the image of those brown eyes bore into your mind every time you tried to close your eyes.

The next morning you sneak into the main office where the small continental breakfast is offered. You sneak past your boss to the coffee station, pouring yourself a heaping cup before turning to walk to the sugar station. As you’re turning around, you collide with a firm body, expletives fly as does the coffee in your hand, sending it straight down your uniform, warm liquid causing your thin uniform skirt to cling to your stomach and thighs.   

“Shit- m sorry sweets,” the man you now know at Eddie kindly offers, “Wasn’t even payin attention,” You look up at him, frowning when you see his beautiful brown eyes are hidden by dark round frames. 

“Probably cause of these,” You mumble as you reach your hand up to take the glasses off his face. You’re met with those brown eyes that filled your dreams the night prior. There’s still eyeliner smudged under his eyes, the dark presence bringing out the golden flecks in his eyes. You frown when you really begin to study his face, his nose is dry and cracked, the skin around the nostril irritated and puffy. His eyes are rimmed red, like a permanent kiss of tears. His hair disheveled and heaping on top of his head. 

Eddie’s heart pangs when he sees you recoil at the sight of him, he averts his eyes and reaches for his glasses. You snatch your hand away, looking up at him. 

“S’ just you're too pretty for that, Eddie,” You fold the glasses up in your hand before gently placing them in the palm of Eddie’s, you turn on your heels and rush to your first clean of the day, successfully locking yourself in the room before Eddie can find you. 

Eddie curses to himself when he watches you walk, no run away. You leave him there bewildered, not quite sure what to do. He wanted to run and explain that he’s trying, trying to be better. He wants to tell you it was just one line but everyone who knows him knows that’s bullshit. One line is never one line with Eddie Munson. 

It’s one line, two lines, a random fuck, three lines, four lines, a broken chair, five lines a broken tv, 6 lines and somehow he wakes up naked in his guest bedroom. It's a shot for shot, line for line, cut throat kind of party when Eddie Munson is around. 

But now, standing here, he has this itch inside him, one he has never even entertained scratching in his years to fame. This want to actually do better and this need to prove to you that this isn't the Eddie Munson the world cracks him out to be. 

His second day there, he finds your cart and places an old Metallica t-shirt on your cart with a little note, “Sorry I dumped your coffee all over you :( xx” 

You giggle at the sloppy handwriting, you smile when you see him across the courtyard of the small motel. He sends you a wink which causes you to blush furiously. He lets out a small chuckle at your obvious flustered demeanor. He tries to wave you over but you’re quick to scurry in another direction, off to another clean. 

His third day there he stops at your cart when you’re leaving your last clean of the day.

“Hey uh- I need?” He trails off as he looks around your cart, eyes lighting up when he sees the extra complimentary soaps on your cart, “SOAP! I need more soap,”

You look at him quizzically, head cocking to the side as he lets out a nervous laugh. You simply reach for the soap and hand him some, smiling slightly when your hands touch. 

“Names Eddie,” he says softly.

“I know,” You respond, eyes never meeting his as you walk away towards the breakroom. 

His fourth day there he is bound to know your name, he even stops Christa to try and wiggle it out of her.

“She- she's really pretty?” Christa’s eyebrows raise, knowing exactly who he is talking about. 

“She always wears little white keds, with the ruffle socks?” Christa nods, crossing her arms over her chest as she weighs the benefits of revealing any information to Eddie. 

“I just wanna know her name..” he mumbles, pleading eyes looking down at her. 

“Think she’s gonna have to tell you that one,” Christa pats his thigh before heading to her car, she bids Eddie a soft goodnight and drives away, leaving him alone and wondering all about who you are. 

His fifth day there, you’re standing in the middle of the office, suitcases all around you. You’re flustered and upset talking to your boss. 

He’s watching from the outside, sitting by his door smoking a cigarette. Your boss rounds the counter, grabbing some of the bags before leading you to the room next to Eddie’s, the other long-term stay. 

You pass by him without a word, your boss simply offering him a nod of his head as he passes him. Your boss lets you into the room, giving you a quick hug assuring you everything would be okay. 

Your eyes meet Eddie’s as you go to shut the door, he offers you a small smile that you softly return but shut the door quickly so as to not start any conversation. You were over the night and you dont think your poor brain could handle another dose of being rewired by Eddie Munson. 

Your apartment had flooded, ruining much of the furniture you owned but sparing your more beloved pieces. Your boss agreed to let you stay in the other long-term as long as you were willing to help extra in the laundry room in the mornings. You agreed, thankful you had such a wonderful work family around you. 

You unpack your bags slowly, the night wearing on you. You check the clock and see that it is nearing 1am. Your boss has given you the day off tomorrow so you were excited to get to sleep in. As you lay your head on the pillow you hear a soft voice bleeding through the wall behind your head. 

“Her eyes and words are so icy

Oh but she burns, like rum on the fire

Hot and fast and angry as she can be

I walk my days on a wire” 

You hear the same words over and over, different inflections and notes flooding through the walls. If it was anyone else, it’d drive you crazy. But knowing it’s Eddie, it makes your heart skip a beat. You feel like he’s there, singing just for you, putting on a show for you that no one else can see or hear. 

You fall asleep like that, the perfected verse softly bleeding into the room, the twang of guitar accompanying the words comforting you. 

You wake the next morning with a crick in your neck, you slowly roll out of bed heading towards the shower in hopes the heat will soothe your aching muscles. You hop in as soon as it is warm enough, letting the water aid the painkillers you had just taken. Once you’re through with your shower, you slowly climb out and wrap a towel around your exposed body, heading back to the main room to get dressed for the day. 

You settle for a soft skirt and Eddie’s Metallica shirt, you shove on your Keds and make your way out the door, shrieking immediately when you open the door to find Eddie Munson standing there. 

“Shit! M’ sorry sweets.. Was just gonna knock and see if you wanted anything from town,” he soothes, hands coming to rest on your tense shoulders. Once you finally calm down a bit, you’re able to respond. 

“Was just going to town myself,” you reply, smoothing out your skirt and looking down at the ground. 

“I could take you?” he questions, eyes hopeful as they cast onto you. You switch your weight from foot to foot, contemplating the idea of being so close to Eddie for so long. You look back at his eyes, his usual unsure eyes filled with hope. 

“O-okay but I’ll drive,” you respond, looking up at him, cheeks burning at the smirk that plays on his face. 

“Sure thing sweets,” he rasps, turning to lock his door. He’s wearing baggy blue jeans, reebok sneakers and a shirt that barely rides up his tummy. His hair is pulled up on top of his head, bangs framing his face. 

He follows you to your car, a baby blue ford fiesta. You loved your car, it was relatively new and oh so cute. Eddie smiles upon seeing it, whistling as he approaches the door.  

“Mmm cute car for a cute girl,” he says with a grin, ducking into your car. He buckles his seatbelt, sniffling as he does so. Your heart breaks for a moment, knowing just what was going on. 

You stay silent during the car ride, the odd sniffle breaking the silence here and there. You arrive at your local grocery store, turning your car off once you park. Eddie pushes his sunglasses up his nose, adjusting his bangs before exiting the car. 

You round the car, making your way inside, Eddie right next to you the whole time. You browse the aisles looking for the things you need, stopping and picking up a treat here and there. You’re at checkout when you spot the Hostess cupcakes, your hand reaching out for a chocolate one but a hand is quicker than yours. Your hand meets the top of Eddies but you quickly pull it away when you feel the cold of his hands. 

“Sorry-” you mumble as you place your items on the belt before you. 

“S’ okay. Here,” he hands you a pack of cupcakes, smiling at you before grabbing another pack for himself. 

You both buy your respective items, Eddie taking your paper bag, carrying one in both arms. He puts them in the back of your car, settling in next to you in the passenger seat. 

“Listen- I know I’m kind of intimidating and I’m sure you’ve looked into who I am, but that's not really me…” he tries to offer. You stay silent before taking a deep breath in. 

“E-eddie, I know people crack you up to be crazy and you haven’t shown me that. But..” 

Eddie winces, preparing for what words come out of your mouth next. 

“I- I can see it. In your eyes, some semblance of truth,” you stare up at him for a while, his hands coming to take off his sunglasses to reveal those beautiful red-rimmed eyes. 

“S’ part of the lifestyle sweets,” he rasps, smirking but letting it fall when he sees how unamused you are. 

“Doesn’t have to be..”

[heretolurkandnothingmore]

WIP Wednesday

My first time participating! This is a snippet from my long-languishing Obikin fic about an accidental marriage through alien tattoo application. Among other things.

This part is from what should be Chapter 2, where Obi-Wan, Anakin and Ahsoka go undercover at a gala full of mobsters to try and catch a corrupt politician's criminal allies.

The gala enveloped them in a glittering, murmuring embrace of crystal and pearl. The clothing was extravagant, but beneath the flowing gowns and shawls hands tipped in exchange of messages, whispers and signs reached their targets and the Force thrummed with anticipation and danger - the manifold sound of an orchestra tuning their instruments.

To a knowing eye, it was clear which partygoer cast their lot with the Reds or the Blues. Overtones of crimson, carmine, mauve contrasted in the crowd with periwinkle and navy. Obi-Wan watched the flitting crowd and noted the key figures filling the board the night would be played on - Red, Blue, unaffiliated. He waited for his mark to arrive.

His eyes deliberately didn't seek out Anakin. He didn't need to. Their bond hummed in the back of his mind like a living thing. The inked Mark on his shoulder tingled with warmth of Anakin's soul touching his. There was no reason to come closer, no matter what Obi-Wan may want. What he shouldn't want.

It would break their cover to be seen together, anyway. Not to mention another glance at the young man's luminous A memory of helping Anakin with the cufflinks rose, unbidden. The remembered intensity in that gaze stirred something in him all over again, and Obi-Wan had to busy himself with a wine glass from the nearby buffet table.

"Damn," he heard through the bond. It took some fortitude not to whip around to look at Anakin.

Obi-Wan took a sip from the glass and let his gaze drift across the room. His former apprentice was on the other end, eating some sort of tart-shaped appetizer and looking pleased with himself. His voice rumbled low in Obi-Wan's mind.

"Master, try the food. You're tired of rations, too. Don't deny it."

Obi-Wan succeeded in not rolling his eyes and obeyed, grabbing a morsel off a passing waiter's tray. He bit into it with a startling crunch - and understood perfectly what Anakin meant. A striking taste, somehow both sweet and savory and unlike anything he's ever tried flooded his mouth. He exhaled slowly, savoring the moment. Anakin was right, they so rarely got to try new food.

He realized he was projecting his satisfaction through the bond and tried to repress a smile at the gentle tug of affection he was getting in return.

"Good?" Anakin asked, smugly.

"Very."

"I see you're enjoying the spoils of a criminal lifestyle."

"Don't gloat. They may be criminals, but you can't deny the civilized life can be enjoyable"

Suddenly, a cold presence in the Force enveloped him. Not like a trained Jedi or Sith feeling their way around, just the oppressive emptiness of a soul that has long since severed the connections even the most feral of creatures feel to the world around them. A black hole.

"Red lackey to your left." Anakin's voice broke through the sickening spell. "He's got the mark."

Obi-Wan turned, pretending to follow a woman in a indigo dress flowing past him. To his left, there stood a stranger. A man in a dark grey cape over a basic dark suit. At first he seemed like another hired muscle, but his cape was high-quality. A pair of silver embroidered wings peeked out from its inner lining. The man's cufflinks glittered with pale red crystals set into more silver. And Anakin was right, for right there, around the stranger's ear, bleeding into his ginger hairline, was the telltale crimson beak of the Reds' mark. A hawk's head.

The stranger turned, and for a second the yellowish frostbite of his gaze burrowed into Obi-Wan. It was paralyzing. Like a long-dead creature reaching into him with fingers of ice and greedy interest.

Obi-Wan's own Mark suddenly flared with heat and the stranger's gaze flicked past him at last - and across the room. Onto Anakin.

The man smiled.

[harryforvogue]

Harry gently tucks Faye’s hair away from her face after placing his car in park. He smiles. “Call me when you’re done. I’m going to be around here, yeah? Have to shop for Christmas gifts.”

Harry has been driving Faye to work often. He’s seen her shivering her way into his apartment far too many times. No matter how many layers she has on, she’s still always freezing and often complaining about how cold the buses are, how cold the waits at the bus stops are. So he cranks up the heat in his car and drives her to and from work whenever he can.

Even under the heat, she’s shivering, pressing her trembling hands between her thighs to warm them up. “Yes. I’ll call you.”

“When you have a chance, please let me know what you would like your gift to be, all right?”

She smiles. “I don’t know what I want.”

“Well, figure it out and tell me quickly. Only have a few weeks left.”

“Isn’t the whole point of Christmas getting gifts you know the other person will like?” she grins.

Harry sighs. “I’ll get you something I think you’ll like, but if you don’t like it, I need a back up gift.” He narrows his eyes. “You’ve picked out my gift already?”

“Mhm!”

He groans softly, leaning in to kiss her. “All right, I’ll figure it out. Just don’t break up with me when you don’t like anything I get you.”

She giggles softly and leans over the console to wrap her arms around his neck, kissing him back softly. He tilts his head to the side, pressing his warm nose against her cheek, kissing her one more time.

He leans back then, pressing his lips together, frowning. He waits a few seconds before mumbling, “My mouth is tingling.”

“Hmm?” Her eyes are all wide and innocent.

“You’ve…you’ve got a new chapstick.” His tongue darts out to gently touch one side of his mouth. “Doesn’t taste like cherries.”

“Yeah, I had to switch over to the holiday chapstick. I put on a lot though.” She wipes his mouth with her gloves thumbs. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he immediately replies, turning his head to kiss her gloved palm. “What is it? Peppermint right?”

“Yeah. Is it too tingly?”

“No. I like it.” He leans in once and kisses her again, holding her cheek softly. He murmurs, “Like I said. Call me when you’re done, okay? Wanna spend the night at mine?”

She pulls away, slightly disoriented by the kiss. “I don’t have any clothes left over at your place.”

“You can wear mine.”

“None of my stuff is there. Like my toothbrush or my–”

“I’ve got spares. You know that.”

“Oh right.”

He smiles. “Are you trying to get out of staying with me?”

“No!” she laughs, covering her mouth. “I love staying with you!”

“Then why are you being so difficult?”

She laughs again, shaking her head. “It’s just that… well your place is so warm and your bed is so warm and your clothes are so big and warm and–”

“None of those are things you’ve complained about, my love.”

“I don’t want you to think I use your place just to sleep!”

He sits back in his seat. “I wouldn’t mind that. As long as you’re sleeping with me.”

“It’s been too cold to do anything else, you know? I usually just…come over and fall asleep.”

Harry’s eyebrows raise. “That’s fine, Faye. I really don’t have any issues with that.”

She purses her lips. “All right…If it’s all fine by you.”

He sighs and leans in, holding her jaw again between his fingers. He kisses her once, hard, and then says, “I love you. Call when you’re done, yes?”

She’s nodding before he’s finished. “Yes.”

“Good.”

“Love you more.”

“No, I–”

She’s out the door before he can finish, a satisfied grin on her face.

He watches her half run into the theatre, holding her coat tight against her body. He waits several moments before putting the car in drive and driving away.

His mouth is still tingling by the time he gets to the mall.

He does not mind a single bit.

[commander-winterberry]

avae you'll never guess whose romance route id pick in a dating sim. :) (its velichor, my beloved poisons man)

answering both @creativebrainrot and @silvesi ... its Velli's big boobies isnt it?

OKAY HERE COMES A LONG TEXT BC ITS FUN THINKING ABT THIS ROMANCE ROUTE in a typical VN game ajkdsfjhkfgahdjkgjhkg

So you picked Vellichor, the mysterious, brooding, and fairly cold guy but it's his boobies, his massive bandokers and the fact that he’s built like a brick wall that are so attractive. Maybe.

His dating route is complicated, you prolly would need a dozen trial and error runs or an online guide to figure out what dialogue options catch his attention. He’s a mystery to unfold, a poison to break down into its components, a big boobied specimen to study.

His dating route would start off by encountering either during his solo walks around the city, or during a ministry mission or maybe even during an underground black market where you both are in the same poison shop heh

You have to catch his attention quick and fast, he has a lot of calculations going on in his head, so butt into his mind like a thorn. Show you knowledge about poisons or dark ritual magic or history, that will at least promise a conversation, but to prolong it, go for the less than lawful dialogue options. He likes sarcasm, so be witty but not too loud.

what i imagine his dating route will lead to is something action packed. Underground mission, assist him by pursuing some criminals to beat them up and get back an artifact or forbidden books for his own interest. Usually he works solo but if he likes you enough he accepts you at his side. Naturally that means first rows of watching him and his big boobied muscles in action.

Because we need classic dating visual novel tropes, you get hurt in the action but nothing too bad. the fight ends successfully and Velli carries you back to his apartment to patch you up. in his sacred home you are not alone but several pets are watching you with big eyes. He’s an animal person. Pet his cats and gain their affection for his affection bonus points.

here comes the hot romance when he is patching you up: intense eye contact, you can ask him any question, and ofc hes wears no shirt while he’s close to you while his hand so carefully wrap the bandages around your wound. (just ignore the aggressive cat food begging in the background) if you want, he can distract you from the pain by infodumping about poison/toxins etc. his voice is very, very nice to listen to when he is passionate abt a topic

If you successfully made your way through his dialogue options and raise enough affection points, you or him can initiate a kiss (or a hug!) heh bonus: you get to see his thorny tail

The kiss is hot, i'll leave it at that. After this, you feel your lips tingle and a little bit numb. Of course he tastes like poison.

Bad Route? He just never engages with you at the start of this dating route in the first place. man got other things to do

theres prolly a dozen other routes or romantic moments such as as him teaching you various effects of poison through kisses or smoking together on rooftop overlooking new kainengs night's landscape - he can be surprisingly romantic but also intense with teasing

[muraenida]

@mostrohost​ sent: "Teeth." Azul warns softly, the tip of one of his tentacles lightly tapping Floyd's forehead and gently pushing the eel's head back. Several of his other limbs continue their lazy exploration, curling up around and mapping the length of Floyd's tail. Some of what he feels is familiar - Floyd still tastes like the sweet-sour tang of poison, of brine and the cold of the sea. But he's put on more muscle since the last time they've nestled down like this. His fingers trace the rise of Floyd's dorsal fin, avoiding the spines and minding the thin membrane towards the end. Another tentacle loops around Floyd's hips, then further down - suckers gently latching on and lightly squeezing before releasing a moment later; the effect being similar to a full body massage that traveled from Floyd's shoulders down to the tip of his tail."You ate not too long ago, you know." Azul shifts back against the coral, bringing Floyd down with him as he gets comfortable. "The cake, the snacks, the fritters my mother sent you - really." He sighs out a steam of bubbles from his gills. "I can't be that tasty." Still, it is Floyd's birthday. He can be forgiving, this time. "When did you get so big? Your tail's just a little shorter than my tentacles now." Human bodies didn't accurately portray a mer's age, he knew; but somehow the knowledge that Floyd was tall as a human never quite translated to how big he was as an eel. And Floyd was still growing. A slightly terrifying thought, to be honest. "Happy birthday, Floyd." Azul lightly ran a finger over the part in Floyd's hairline, nail tenderly tracing his scalp.

Floyd’s muscles tingle pleasantly as he relaxes under Azul’s massage, each exploring touch of his tentacles perfectly placed. He lets it happen without much of a response, lying comfortably in Azul’s arms and lazily watching his many limbs stroke his skin. This is exactly what he wanted when he voiced his birthday wish: to be held and caressed like this, fully embraced by Azul in his true form while he, too, is in his natural shape and thus unbothered by the lack of warmth between then. There’s just nothing like being hugged by a creature with so many arms. (Except being hugged by Jade, perhaps.)

It’s not entirely conscious when Floyd starts to nibble at the careless arm brushing against his lips a moment too long, but he grins when Azul scolds him for it, not the least bit remorseful about his little fauxpas. He giggles.      “You’re the tastiest friend that I have,” he says and playfully pulls Azul’s arm back to hug it against his chest. He doesn’t bite again, though, deciding not to push his luck lest Azul gets mopey and decides to end their little cuddle session prematurely.

     “Mmh,” Floyd makes happily, remembering the food Azul’s mother sent them for their birthday. He had plenty, that’s true, but, “I could eat again,” he announces. He wiggles his tail just a little bit at the mention of its length, stretching it to full size. It’s funny to him how small Azul is in his human form, when he’s so massive in reality. Maybe that’s why humans tend to underestimate him even more than the silly mers down in the Coral Sea. If only they knew.

This thought just about melts out of Floyd’s head when Azul runs a hand over his scalp and he smiles contentedly. Looking up at him he brings a hand to the side of his face and further to the back of his neck. With a gentle pull he urges him to get closer and lean down so he can steal a kiss - and perhaps nibble a little more..

[kookscrescent]

A Needy, Desperate Fuck Up (m) │ pjm

❒ pairing: jimin x female reader ❒ summary: jimin’s desperation leads to a fuck up. ❒ prompt: "Fuck fuck fuck fuck, that's not fucking good!" and "Fuck! I'm not on the pill!" ❒ rating: nc-17, 18+ ❒ genre: smut, pwp ❒ warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), dirty talk, cursing, accidental creampie, rough sex, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, choking, crying, Jimin is neeedyyyy for that puzz puzz ❒ word count: 3.1k │ unedited ❒ release date: may 8th 2021 ❒ disclaimer: This is all fiction! Nothing mentioned/written are facts and/or real! So please just keep that in mind when reading and enjoy! Thank you ♡

The door to your bedroom barely has a chance to close properly before Jimin has you pressed flat against the wall. The coldness of the exposed brick wall has goosebumps rising on your rapidly heating skin, and you shudder at the contact.

But you don’t care. All you can think about is the way Jimin feels pressed against your body – the hard panels of his toned chest and abdominal muscles, not to mention his hard length growing against your leg.

You can’t help but moan at the feeling. It’s been way too long since you and Jimin have had sex! He’s been extremely busy with recording for the new album, and his schedule is almost jammed packed every day, and on the rare occasion that he has a few hours of free time, you would much rather have him spend it on catching up on some rest.

But something had come over him the minute he opened your front door and stepped inside. Like you normally would, you’d yelled out a hello to him, letting him know you were in the kitchen, with your hands buried in the dirty dish water as you were cleaning the few dishes you had neglected since the day before. You hadn’t heard him call back a hello to you like he normally would, but you thought he might just be tired and didn’t really think anything of it. However, you did hear him entering the kitchen and stopping just behind you. About to ask him if he was hungry and if he wanted you to make him something, you’d dried your hands on the nearest rag, but you didn’t even manage to get a proper look at him before his hands were in your hair and his lips were claiming yours in a hard kiss.

It took your breath away. Literally. The rag fell to the floor without a sound and without pulling away to question his sudden behavior you grabbed his face in your hands, trying to bring him closer. He took the hint and stepped forward, pushing his chest and pelvis against your body. he was hot and cold at the same time. His clothes cold from the slight breeze outside, but his hands and lips warm and hot against your skin.

Things escalated pretty quickly from that point and you honestly can’t really remember the journey from the kitchen to your bedroom. Every breath you each take is rushed and breathy, and all you seem to recall is hands frantically trying to remove pieces of clothing and said clothing landing haphazardly on the floor in a line behind you. Hard and wet kisses to your lips and neck, and your hands desperately trying to undo the string on Jimin’s joggers.

At this point you’ve both managed to get each other undressed, both of you now lying naked on the bed, Jimin hovering above you, your legs caging him in and his hard cock resting between your soaked folds as he slowly grinds himself against you. Your mouths are a hot mess, lips slipping and sliding over each other and your tongues erotically dancing.

It’s like all hell have broken loose and the both of you have just lost it. You have no idea what has spurred on his sudden desperate need to claim you, but you can’t say that you mind one bit. You’re equally as desperate to have him, not having felt him inside of you for almost three weeks!

Throwing your head back, you groan as the tip of his cock nudge your clit. “Shit, that feels so good!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!” You find his eyes, hoping to god he won’t stop moving against you.

He leans down for another kiss. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed your sweet pussy!” He rumbles, lifting to his hands so he can watch his cock effortlessly slid between your folds, your slick coating every thick inch of him. “Fuck, I need to taste you baby.”

With a jerk he moves down your body, your legs automatically parting wider to make room for him. Once settles between your legs, Jimin looks up at you from under lust clouded eyes, his pupils so dark and intense that you become slightly nervous. Pressing a kiss to the juncture of your thigh, he gently and ever so slowly runs the tip of his pointer finger down your slit, collecting your juices before sucking his finger clean.

He groans and you almost dissipate on the spot. His finger returns to your heat as another kiss is pressed to the juncture of your thigh. He repeats his previous action – running his finger down your slit, collecting your arousal, but he stops at your entrance, teasingly circling your hole. He pushes in just an inch before retreating and you mumble a frustrated please. You lock eyes, just as a second finger joins the first and he pushes in all the way to his knuckles.

Your head hits the pillows in a sigh of relief. He pushes in and out of you in a slow and tantalizing rhythm. It has your head swimming, and you need more.

“Please Jimin, please! Don’t tease me.”

“Don’t tease you baby?” he repeats and following with a kiss right above your clit. “Why not?”

Arrogant shit, you think!

“It’s been so long…” you mumble, your voice muffled by the pillows when he begins to pick up the pace. “Make me cum!”

“Hmmm,” he places another kiss above your clit, so close to touching but never enough to give you the relief you want. He begins scissoring his fingers inside of you, and the familiar fire starts in your stomach. “Want me to make you cum with my mouth babygirl?”

You nod frantically! “Yes yes yes ye- ahhhh!” You’re abruptly cut off by the feeling of Jimin’s tongue finally making contact with your clit. He gently licks it – long fat swipes with his warm tongue.

The sounds coming out of you is only spurring him on. Two fingers turn to three and he sucks your clit so violently it has your hips rising from the bed. He easily folds one arm across your lower abdomen, holding you down as he continues to suck.

The fire picks up, and your cries grows louder and louder with each suck of his mouth and each thrust of his fingers. You can’t remember a time where you’ve ever wanted, no needed, to cum so desperately. You can almost taste the release on your tongue. So close.

You can feel how eager Jimin is to make you explode on his tongue as well. He pushes the entirety of his face into your soaked pussy. His tongue working you so feverishly, his nose bumping your sensitive clit.

You grasp at his hair, pushing his face deeper into you and he groans in respond. The vibration sending a wave of tingles through your clit and all the way down to your toes, making them curl. You feel like your brain is no longer connected to the rest of your body, your legs and hips having a life of their own – bucking wildly against his face, trying to reach your high.

Slipping his fingers out of you, he reaches up to press your hips to the bed with both of his hands, making you completely immobilized.

You’re about to whine at the loss of his fingers inside of you, but Jimin is quick to replace them with his fat tongue instead.

“Ah…ah Jimin- oh god!” You moan.

He continues his feast. Slurping and sucking every inch of your wet pussy. You’re so close, so fucking close to cumming, every nerve in your body is on high alert, ready to explode in a fit of euphoria.

Jimin moans between your legs. Loving the way your sweet juices cover his face and tongue. If he’s not careful, the mere taste of you on his tongue combined with the way you sound when you’re losing control, he could probably cum.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop!” You plead, digging your fingers deeper into his scalp, yanking at his hair.

He doesn’t stop. Jimin keeps going, your moaning pleas urging him to go even faster, and he throws his fingers back into the equation. Plunging two fingers into your tight hole and working them at the same fast rhythm as his tongue on your clit.

When your grip on his hair becomes almost too painfully tight, he knows your cumming.

“Shit shit shit shit shit! Ohhhhhhh…!!”

He keeps lapping up every inch of you until he’s sure you’ve ridden out every small inch of your orgasm. Only when your hands fall limply to the bad, does he ease up.

You’re panting, trying to catch your breath as Jimin kisses his way back up your body. He seems just as out of breath as you are, but you can tell that he’s no way near finished with you.

And you would be sourly disappointed if he were.

*

“God you’re so hot!” Jimin breaths, lips hovering above yours, barely touching. He thumbs your lower lip, drawing it down before flicking his tongue across it. Locking his eyes on yours, he holds your gaze as he works his hips between your legs.

Supporting himself on one elbow, he lets the other arm travel behind your body to roughly grab onto your ass cheek, squeezing it tightly as he grinds his pelvis against you, letting his pelvis rub against your still sensitive clit as his cock is nestled deep inside of you.

Lifting, you reach for his mouth, your breast pressing against his sweaty chest. You whimper into his mouth as he slowly begins drawing back his hips and pushing his cock back inside with a hard thrust. He repeats this several times. Each time pushing a little deeper and thrusting a little harder.

Nibbling at your bottom lip, he whispers, “I’m gonna make you cum so hard on my cock.”

“Please!”

“Would you like that?”

“Yes! God yes!”

He forces one of your legs over his shoulder as he moves to sit on his knees, trapping your remaining leg between his. This automatically causes you to roll to your side, changing the position and making him go deeper.

Fisting the sheets, you hold on for dear life as Jimin begins fucking into you at an almost violent pace. He kisses your shin as he uses your leg as leverage to push himself faster and deeper inside of you.

It’s a bruising pace – hard, fast and rough.

“I-I… Jimin!” You hoarsely call out his name as heat washes through your body and the knot in your stomach begins to tighten.

“Shit! Are you gonna cum baby?” His eyes zero in on the way your pussy swallows his cock so desperately, your wall tightening and sucking him in. “Fuck you’re getting so tight!” He whines almost painfully.

You cry out, your orgasm crashing through you like a volcano erupting. Your entire body is convulsing and tingling with the sweet feeling of the release you’ve missed so much. And even when you’re spend and don’t think you can take much more, Jimin keeps going. He fucks you through the waves aftershocks till they subside, and you feel a new knot of fire starting to form.

Your pussy spasms around his cock and it feels like he’s splitting you open. “Oh my fucking god!”

“Fuck! How do you keep getting tighter?!” He throws his head to the ceiling with a deep growl, his fingers digging into your flesh and he slows down to let your both catch your breath.

“Kiss me please,” you manage to stammer out the few words, needing to feel him close to you again.

With your leg still over his shoulder, he leans down on his elbows till he’s able to slot his lips over yours in a sweet kiss. You claim his mouth, your hands cupping his cheeks as your tongue licking its way inside. It’s wet and messy, and Jimin switches his rhythm to match the pace of the kiss. Slowly, he grinds his hips against yours as your mouths make love. It’s a complete switch of mood from what it was mere seconds ago. But none the less, the know forming in the pit of your stomach keeps on growing.

Jimin pick up the pace once again. Frantically, desperately snapping his hips against yours – the sound of your skin slapping together and the squelch of your juices as the pumps in and out, filling the room.

“Fuck,” he breaths and finds your neck, licking a fat stripe from your ear to the juncture between your shoulder and neck. He bits down softly and your face contorts in pleasure, hands scratching down his sweaty back.

You don’t know how he’s able to keep going like this, but you’re not about to tell him to slow down or stop. Not when the tingling feeling of another orgasm starts spreading through your body. But before the feeling can take full flight, Jimin stops to sit up on his haunches, and you whine loudly.

“Noooo!”

He laughs, running a hand through his thick wet locks. “Don’t worry babygirl. I’ve got you.”

And he does. He doesn’t waste a beat and immediately pick up where he left. He spreads your legs wide, his eyes focusing on the way he sinks his cock into your sweet heat, the way you drink up every inch of him. The sight nearly makes him cum on the spot and he has to concentrate real hard not to blow his load inside already. He’s not done with you yet!

Having gone so long without being inside of you, he’s not ready for this to be over!

“Jimin- ah ah ahhhhh- hnnng!” Your back arches off the bed as the crown of his cock rubs against your sweet spot. Jimin responds with his hand on your throat, putting just the right amount of pressure. You can feel your eyes tearing up at the intense amount of pleasure running through your body, he’s everywhere! You can feel him everywhere! And you don’t know how much more you’ll be able to take, feeling spend and used after 2 orgasms already.

“Baby please,” you beg him teary eyed. “Need you to cum!”

Jimin shakes his head, his hair falling over his eyes as determination takes over his features. “Gonna make you cum again!” he rasps, throwing his other hand into the mix as well – using his thumb to draw harsh circles on your clit.

Your hips buck against his touch and the fire in your stomach intensifies to the point of pain. “I-I can’t…” you sob, and you desperately try to find something to grab onto, eventually settling on Jimin’s thighs, your nails digging into his skin. You’re sure that will leave a mark in the morning.

“Yes you can!” Jimin growls, teeth biting into his bottom lip and he begins pounding into your so ruthlessly and desperately. He fucks you so hard and fast, that you’re almost positive that the bed will break.

He squeezes your throat a little harder, making the tears stream down your cheeks – wetting the pillow below you.

“Fucking cum! Cum around my cock baby!” he breathes, leaning down to kiss the tears from your cheeks.

The slight change in position, has his cock reaching so deep inside of you. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull, fingers clawing into Jimin’s back – trying to hold on for dear life as he pounds you to your third orgasm for the night.

“Jimi- fuck…ahhhhhh!” you cry hoarsely, as you cum so hard that spots start dancing in front of your eyes and your breath catches in your throat when Jimin tighten his hold on your throat the slights bit – adding fuel to your already too intense pleasure.

“That’s it,” he grunts, continuing his abuse and fucking you through your orgasm, now chasing his own as well.

“Oh my god, please!”

You’re so desperate to feel him fall apart, to feel him lose control as much as you are. Wrapping yourself around him, you pull him as close as possible, your hands grasping his ass, pushing and pulling him towards you and your hips matching him thrust for thrust.

“Yesssss! Fuck ____, just like that. Just like that,” he chants, and you cry out in relief when you feel his muscles tensing up under your fingers and his cock twitching inside of you as he cums in hot spurts.

He continues to swirl his hips slowly as you both come down from your high. He finds your lips, placing small, sweet pecks of love over and over again as you both try to find your breath.

“That was…” you mumble against his lips.

He cracks a smile, “It was.”

Eventually Jimin stops moving completely, just lying on top of you with his arms caging you in and his hands running lovingly through your sweat soaked hair. You really need a shower before you go to bed. But you stay like that for what feels like an eternity. Just kissing and touching each other. You’re pretty sure you won’t be able to move once you have to get out of bed, your legs feeling completely numb. But at this rate, you’re not even sure you want to get out of bed at all – the way Jimin feels on top of you, his weight pressing you down, the way his cock feels inside of you and his warm cum still filling your-

“Did you come inside of me?” you ask him abruptly, your eyes going as big as saucers.

He looks down to where your bodies are connected, confused for a second. “Did I? I guess I did.”

“Jimin!” You begin to panic, your voice going up an octave. “Fuck! I’m not on the pill!”

Jimin’s entire body stiffens upon hearing your words. “What?!” He still asks, not sure he heard you right.

“I’m not on the pill right now!”

“What? Why? You’ve always been on the pill!” He says, sitting up and pulling out of you. You wince at the slight sting he leaves behind from pounding you so thorough and good.

“Yes, but remember last month when I had my doctor’s appointment because I was having really bad cramps? She told me to stop taking them for a while to see how my body would respond! I clearly remember telling you this and that you needed to wear condoms!”

“WHAT?!” he practically screeches in disbelief, watching as his cum slowly leaks out of your abused entrance. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck, that’s not fucking good!”

[mywritingonlyfans]

Fuffly/Smut with Victoria

 this short fic is about: fuffly morning/half smut with victoria. nipples playing.

 warnings: it’s smut. fem!reader x victoria de angelis.

 You opened your eyes, itching them in irritation.

 The sun shining through the window seemed to want to torture you and when looking at your side, not seeing Victoria next to you, you felt as if the universe agreed with that.

You stood up, putting your toes on the icy floor. The cold of the morning making you cringe as you hugged Victoria’s shirt to yourself - the one you love to wear with the golden button on it. An act that automatically made you feel better, even though it was difficult to say if it was because of her smell invading your nostrils or the fact that you knew that by sleeping in her apartment you’d be able to see her rosy and puffy cheeks full of sleep early in the morning.

“Good mornin’ puppy,” she hummed from the balcony, leaving her phone aside to give you her all.

 She gestured as if she was a baby wanting to grab something, in a way to call you to herself. 

 Her radiant face when seeing you along with the sun kissing her silhouette, lighting her up in the morning was able to make you believe that you were living in a cliché romance of a period film.

You sat on her lap, placing several kisses on her face. “Mornin’, gorgeous!”

She straightened in the seat, making herself more comfortable for you. You hooked your legs around her waist, allowing her to rub your bare thigh while pulling you in for a proper kiss.

“How was your night? did ya sleep well?” She asked, laughing at your disapproving moan as she parted from your lips. 

 A kiss was more than enough for her to send electrical current throughout all your body.

Sighing, you opened your eyes, watching her bite her lips at you. She was already taking your breath away and it wasn't quite 12 am yet. “It was good, I slept like an angel.” You smiled, holding on to her shoulders.

Her cheeks were plump as you had imagined they would be, her nose was reddened due to the little sun she was being exposed to. You stroked her shoulders slightly, feeling her soft skin against your fingertips. You thought about leaning over and replacing the touch of your hands with kisses, but you were too distracted looking at her to do so. Your fingers intertwined in the strap of her top, making you want to remove the piece of cloth from her body. Trying to shake off the thought, you shook your head a bit, directing your attention to her face; just to see that her mouth was moving while your mind was miles away.

“Are you with me, lil’ puppy?” She licked her bottom lip in a melodic voice, holding a smile in between her lines. Certainly, it wasn't the first time she was asking you that.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered almost inaudibly. She was unbuttoning a button on your shirt while your body tensed on top of her. “I wasn’t paying attention.” You added, as if she didn’t know that.

 Letting the arouse take over your brain, you rubbed your core against the material of her denim shorts. She was already on the button that was at the level of your navel, which indicated that while your mind was lost on her, she had unbuttoned enough to have a good view of your cleavage.

“Ease down, puppy. I’ll be having a taste of you for breakfast.” She joked, pulling the collar of your shirt away so she could kiss between your breasts.

“Babe, we’re not in public but, huh, I bet people can see us,” you mumbled, scanning the windows of the buildings around you to see if anyone was watching you. No one was looking, and when you feel her colds hands under your chest as she let the shirt run down your arms, you couldn't care any less. “Vic?”

“Huh? you want me to stop, puppy?” She looked at you. Not going any further.

“No, I just need you to touch me,” You murmured, arching your back to give her better access to your perked nipples. “I just want to feel your mouth, babe, please.”

“Wasn’t you worried about the people?”

Her lack of concern towards your needs was making you eager. You gathered the hair on the back of her neck, pulling her mouth gently to your flesh. “Just go, Vic, please.” You begged.

Your voice came out in a sigh that soon became a meow after she take your sensitive nipple in her warm lips, sending chills to your body. She held your hips, gluing you to her while one of her hands hovered over your belly, drawing circles on your stomach. Her tongue outlined your areloa, biting it willingly just to be able to hear you.

“That’s my baby,” she blew the air at your bud in response to your little spasms, causing your eyes to fluttered shut. “So nice and sweet for me, puppy.” She praised, going to the other breast and taking it in her mouth. The tip of her nose brushed your skin as she sipped on the flesh, sucking it until she released it in a wet noise that seemed to echo through the small balcony - probably it was just your state of mind.

She smiled amusedly, looking at your rapt face with her bright eyes as you pulled her hair back, in a need to have a better view of her face. She patted your breasts, resting her back on the chair again, placing your nipples between her fingers and pressing, squeezing and pulling them in alternating movements. You snarled at her touch, your nipples hardening even more from the loss of her warm saliva as your chest rose and fell slowly due to your heavy breathing.

“Vic, I need you,” you said breathlessly, bucking your core against her jeans, trying to provide some sort of relief to yourself.

Her hands disengage from your body, being placed behind her neck. You fixed yourself up on her lap, putting the traces of hair that were on your face behind your ears while her eyes dipped into you. Feeling your cheeks burn, you watched her in silence. She admired you from top to bottom, stopping at your pale pink panties that by her expression you imagined a wet spot was visible on it.

“Up!” she exclaimed, pouting her lips that were now swollen and reddish from her previous actions on you. “Now, puppy.”

She stood up next to you, indicating for you to sit down on her chair. A thing you gladly did, she lowered the backrest, making you lie down for her. The sky was a shade of clean blue as the sun was hitting your face, the place was quiet and it didn't seem to be anyone watching you through the windows of the buildings. No need to say that you had already been forgotten that you were practically naked on the balcony of Vic’s apartment. 

She laughed, drawing your attention back to her, but now, she was in between your legs. “Nobody‘s goin’ to see us, just focus on me. C’mon,” her fingers danced over your covered slit, making your legs tremble.

She was right, and even if she wasn't, it was too late to go back. You were practically aching for her. 

 She pulled the small piece of cloth aside, placing a kiss on your entrance, feeding the tingling inside your stomach. Looking at her, crouched in front of you with her seductive eyes on yours, you nodded, “indeed, whatever you want, babe.”

[aetherarf]

Hi there!! Can i please request for something with childe, kaeya, diluc, xiao and zhongli where the reader is very shaken and they find out it's because the reader was harassed? Have a wonderful day! :)

Yep! Here it is!

I hope you have a wonderful day too!

[ i... don't like how it turned out but in the end i cant figure another way to do it. ]

[[ WARNING: HARASSMENT ]]

[[ Summary: You just wanted to go about your own business and not cause problems... But it seems not everyone respected that. Mostly unharmed, but a little worse for wear... You just wanted to hide for a little bit. What better place than in his arms?

Total Word Count: 2'485

Childe Word Count: 594

Kaeya Word Count: 377

Diluc Word Count: 621

Xiao Word Count: 422

Zhongli Word Count: 471 ]]

Childe

You, weakly, rubbed at your lower back, it still aching when you landed on the ground--hard--and how it was jabbed with a rock or... Something. It hurt, severely. You'd be alright, just... People being too rough, probably drunk or... Maybe high.

You half-limped, half-shuffled your way into the house, pulling off your coat and setting it on a hook, and kicking off your damned shoes. But, your moment of peace and quiet was quickly ruined by the sound of Childe's heavy footsteps, when he came running like an oversized pup.

He almost dove at you in a hug, but you flinched, "Don't!" You shouted... And he stopped, stunned, arms wide open for a hug, looking at you with fear. "I... I'm hurting a little, I just didn't want you to accidentally make it worse."

That calmed Childe, only a little. "Alright--can I still hug you, though? I'll be gentle." He reassured, sweetly, and you nodded. He simply hugged you close, pressing your body to his, and-

Your knees buckled, and you felt his arms tighten, groaning in pain at the sensation. Then, you realized you were being moved, and eventually sat down in a chair.

Your legs gave out, you only just realized.

"I... I'm sorry," you muttered, "I've... I'm really out of it. I'm okay, I promise."

Childe shook his head, "No, nono, you're not allowed to do that. Don't comfort me, something's wrong with you."

You stared for a moment... And sighed.

"I just got..." You thought, trying to figure out a way to word it that wouldn't make him run outside in a homicidal rage, "People made bad decisions, got a little handsy, and I got pushed around a bit... I'm just tired." You tried to convince him, but he got on one knee in front of you, to better look at your face as you sat.

"And do you know these people?" He asked, eyes wide but the rest of his face lacking any readable expression.

"No," you said, instantly, "Childe... Ajax, you're scaring me. You know I don't like it when you... Get like this."

Childe blinked once-twice, and his expression softened. "I'm sorry... I just-I don't like the idea of anyone hurting you... Even myself."

You cupped his jaw, sweetly, and smiled. "I know," you said, softly. "I know you don't. But I'm okay. We're okay. I'm just tired." You smiled a little wider, "I'll write down names next time, okay?" You half joked, "and my powerful warrior can go defend my pride and... Purity, I guess."

He chuckled, "Purity? I've defiled that already..." He only laughed for a few moments... And went quiet. "Do you need help getting to bed? I can order food, or if you want, I can get us some drinks... Or whatever you want." He insisted, still smiling happily.

"Can you just rub my back? I hit it hard when I fell..."

His eyes widened again, "Is-Is that why you fell, did you hit your spine-"

"No," you quickly reassured, "I fell because I'm exhausted."

He stared at you... Unsure.

"Alright. Let's get you to bed so I can rub your back how you like."

Which meant he was going to half help, half drag you to bed, get you undressed, lie you on your front until you dozed off, softly breathing from the relaxation

And he'd always end up waking you a tiny bit when he put you onto your side, a pillow between your knees, and a kiss on your cheek.

But you couldn't ever manage to be angry about it.

Kaeya

"I'm home!" Kaeya cheered--he had even gotten a bottle of wine to... well, he would say celebrate, but there wasn't anything to celebrate. Maybe just to enjoy the night, to make something from nothing.

But there was no reply... he figured it wasn't anything to worry about, maybe you were showering, or something... he set the bottle down on the table, resolving to come back to it a little later that night, getting off his coat, setting it on the chair... better to not risk ruining that, after all.

As he walked through the halls, looking around for you, wondering if you had gone out for something, he saw light from the bathroom, smiling--And he walked to see...

You were staring at the mirror, shaking like a leaf in the wind, eyes wide... but somehow empty of any emotion, of any life, as though you were just a statue.

He took a few steps over, "... Baby?" He asked, softly, and you jumped, eyes wide in horror--you were still wet, and a towel wrapped around you.

"Just me, just me..." He soothed, softly, and you took a deep breath...

"I'm sorry," you said, softly, "I've... just had a hard day."

Kaeya walked past you into the bathroom, grabbing a second towel to help dry you off, figuring you'd need such help, "Do you want to talk about it?"

For several long moments, you looked in the mirror, seeing Kaeya gently taking care of you, from fixing your hair to gently tucking up the towel covering you, as though he had not seen you completely naked several times before.

"We don't have to talk," he finally said, "I got wine, would that help?" He asked, a smile that bled concern.

"No," you admitted, genuinely, "I don't want to drink. I'm sorry."

He tsk'd his tongue gently, "Sorry this, sorry that, but what are you apologizing for?" He teased, gently, "You've had a rough day, and you're tired, and there's a few bruises on you... You did nothing but your best... and survive." He pressed a kiss to your cheek.

"How about we go cuddle and you can tell me if you want, and if not, I can read to you."

"... that sounds nice. Thank you, Kaeya."

"You're welcome, sweetness."

Diluc

Maybe you liked to abuse the fact that you got free wine just a little bit. Diluc would always give it to you, within reason, and it's not like you were using him only for free wine!

It was just a nice bonus.

But the loud, crass tavern was not. Another one of those nights when people got paid and decided to blow their newfound money on drink, and then look into their wallets confused the next day, wondering where it had all gone. Diluc didn't even need an explanation, silently wishing he could leave with you, as he gave you a glass to enjoy outside--less people went outside during these days, for whatever reason.

You leaned back in your seat, backrest lightly tapping against the stone wall behind you, tilting the glass to your lips as you sipped lightly, savoring the taste....

Ah, if only Charles could be working tonight. Right now, cuddling up to warm, snuggly Diluc was a lot more appealing than sitting alone with the wind threatening to pick up and to start cutting at your skin. Just one night, not even one full night, just a few more hours and you could both go home

"Hey tiny," You heard a voice say, and you looked over, seeing a man pull up a seat next to you--you could see why he would call you tiny, he himself was quite massive in size, "What's someone like you doing out alone in the cold?" He leaned over the table, setting one elbow on it as he propped his head up with one hand. No longer sitting back, you straightened your spine and set down your glass with more force than was necessary back onto the table.

"I apologize," you said, "But I'm not in the mood for talking."

"Well," he said, sitting up again, "Maybe I'm not either," he pushed himself to his feet, his hands on the table, and you were effectively trapped--he able to easily block your escape whether you went around either side of the table, or if you went under or above it.

Fingertips trembled around your glass of wine, and you had an idea, standing slowly, and you walked around one side of the table, slowly, and he closed in, smiling wide--

You cracked the glass across his face, it shattering and slicing open his cheek, he reeling for just a moment from the shock, and the pain, you dashing over to the door, tears in your eyes as you finally got over to the door, fumbling desperately for a second until it flung open, and you ran in.

Diluc all but jumped over the bar upon seeing your distress through the crowd, Kaeya shouting in surprise, but it went forgotten as he rushed over you, holding you close to him, the bar gone silent.

You, for a second, just sobbed into his chest, "I... Diluc, he's outside, he..."

It was deafening to hear your own voice with so many people surrounding. Diluc's eyes narrowed, glaring--for a moment, you wondered if he was angry at you, but still hold your wrist tight, he went out front, dragging you along.

When the two of you found yourself outside, there was no one, but spilled wine, shattered glass, and a little blood was evident. You looked at Diluc as he scanned the area... and he looked back to you.

"I'm sorry," he said, softly. "... Kaeya owes me. I'll tell him to staff the bar, and then we'll go home... did he...?"

You shook your head, "Just... scared me."

He nodded, "You know I won't judge you."

"... I know. Thank you."

"... Mn. This night's gone on long enough, lets go home and get it over with already."

Xiao

Tourist, many would call you, even if you came to the Wangshu Inn not to simply say you came, but to see someone you truly care for... and perhaps, from time to time, you focus on commissions instead, but this said someone is always worth it, with the few, loving touches he offer.

People got rowdy, and you could only panic when they grabbed you by the wrists, a big and powerful man. Only because several others were able to pry him off of you did you escape, majorly, unharmed. Your hands tingled, the grip too tight and too crushing, and you could tell they'd be bruised. It could've been worse, but...

All you wanted was to sit down and relax with his head on your lap, and surrounded by a comfortable silence.

You found your way to your usual room, and you sat down at a chair next to a table, lifting your hands and gently rubbing at your wrists... Maybe you should go purchase a salve before he got here? You didn't need to demand he appear immediately, you were alright with waiting, much to his dismay when you would have fallen asleep without him, he having to, stealthy, crawl into bed with you...

"... You're early."

You jumped, and Xiao stood there, spinning his spear in one hand, and then it disappeared into fragments of light, dismissed for the time being.

"Well, I missed you." You said, with a smile. He didn't smile--but that was normal. He walked over to you, and grabbed your hand, turning it so your wrist faced upwards, and he glared at the redness, the bruises already forming.

"What happened?" He asked, then grabbing for your other hand, doing the same and his scowl only increasing as he realized it was on both wrists.

"Just... a drunkard." You said, plainly, "People do stupid things when they drink."

He didn't seem pleased with that answer, "They hurt you." His hands trembled, but he was careful to not crush your hands, still holding them delicately.

"Everyone gets hurt," you tried to soothe his anger, "I'll be okay. I promise... I'm just... sore."

He sighed, "I'm going to get you something to put on that-" he tried to move, but you held onto his hands--tight enough that he couldn't easily pull them away.

"No, no..." You muttered, softly, "You never hold my hands. Stay? For a few minutes?"

He stared down at your hands... and held on a little tighter, taking a seat near you.

"... just a few minutes."

Zhongli

The door swung open, slamming against the nearby wall, and it creaked weakly as it tried to, slowly, swing back to it's closed position.

Zhongli jumped, his spear in hand, summoned by little more than instinct as he heard the noise, but there was no intruder, only you, as you ran and held him, sobbing into his chest.

Without any effort, his spear disappeared, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you close in a firm but still gentle hold.

"Love..." He whispered, softly, "What's wrong?"

For several long moments, you didn't say anything, and he just looked over you... Labored breathing, likely from running, or perhaps just distress.

He couldn't see any injuries, nor smell blood, even with his keen sense of smell, so perhaps you were... Fine?

... hm.

Eventually, your sobbing turned from cries to whimpers, and he managed to get you to sit down.

"Here," he set down some tissues, "The door is open. I'm going to go close it, get you some water, then... We can talk about it, okay?"

Through sniffles, you nodded, and he did as he said: The soft sound of the door clicking, running water, and then he came back, setting the glass down and lifting you effortlessly, setting you onto his lap before grabbing the glass and offering it to you once again.

"Did something do something to you?" He asked, voice low and smooth, as always, but softer than normal, as though he was afraid he could accidentally break you with his words.

Choked up, you slowly managed to explain it, all but being dragged into an alley, your head bashed against the stone ground, and you barely got away, so upset you couldn't think.

He was calm, but were you not present, he would be shredding some poor, poor vermin of Liyue to shreds.

Instead, he pressed a kiss atop your head, gently.

"I'm going to make sure there's no lasting damage, alright?" He knew the signs to look for, after all, "If there is, I will escort you to a healer... If not, would you like to go to sleep? You seem quite tired."

You nodded, and he made quick work. A bruise was forming on your scalp, oh, there'd be a bump, but a few more moments of examining your features, your eyes, and ensuring you were responding properly...

He held out a little bit of medicine, "Nothing that won't heal on its own, this can make it a bit more tolerable, my dear," he hummed, sweetly, and held out his arms for you, patiently waiting for you to jump into them so he could sweep you up and tuck you into bed...

Silently ruing that he couldn't protect you, but promising himself he'd work harder to ensure you wouldn't have to come home crying like this again.

[4dtk]

heloo! can I request hand-holding (3), kisses (6, 12) hugs (32) and touching (12) with renjun, thank uu^^

why do my renjun drabbles always end up so long LOL . btw age old kiss under the mistletoe <3 never too early for x’ams imagines i guess LOL, enjoy!!!

hand-holding, 3: cold hands in warm hands

hugs, 32: long-lasting hugs

kisses, 6 & 12: slow kisses, kisses on the corner of their mouth

touching, 12: pushing a strand of hair behind their ear

renjun’s eyes couldn’t leave yours. well, more of your body as you talked with mark, gesturing grandly about his new single that he dropped. he remembers you playing it whenever you met up, rapping the lyrics back to him that only had renjun groaning in embarrassment. staring around the room, he scans over the members in the party with a smile. having had taken a rest from the all the alcohol earlier, he was glad to be left alone to his… indulgences where no one could interrupt him.

“hey.”

“gah! wh- what the hell?” haechan shocks him out of his stupor, easily avoiding a smack on the back from renjun. his laughter gains attention from others, but otherwise they just return a cheeky laugh back while conversing. soon, the other is able to pick up on his loneliness, partially blaming it on the crazy challenge he dared renjun to do earlier. the partial reason, however..

“are you ever going to confess to (y/n)?” haechan raises a brow.

“keep it down! christ, hyuck. just because some members here have their partners on their arms doesn’t mean i should rush to make (y/n) mine.”

“oh, but you’re so obvious that it’s tiring to watch,” haechan sighs, taking a swig of his drink. the both of them admire the theme of the party for a little bit, red and green decorations hung from the spacious dorm, held on the fifth floor because they were the ‘cleanest’ (against jungwoo’s wishes and with kun’s agreement, they settled for an early celebration on the 23rd).

the speakers blasted christmas music, no doubt from the talented mr. bublé who was a compulsory artist to listen to, along with other renditions of christmas songs that just felt good. fairy lights from the members’ rooms were brought to be set up. plus, with ten’s recent sunset light purchase that he bought for the felines, the room was soon bathed in joyous lighting that could rival decorations outside.

“dude. the members had to have their partners fly in because they’re both so busy. (y/n)’s already there, c’mon the opportunity is right there — and this is the one time you’re able to unwind and relax. just go for it, man,” haechan is relaxed and laid-back, haven’t yet experienced the palpitations whenever one looks at their crush. the only exception was probably a rookie idol back then, but that was old news.

“if you happen to want to cuddle or fuck later, we’ll leave you alone.” this time, renjun was able to land a punch to his shoulder, expression turned into a scowl.

“you’re right, i guess. i’ll see what i can do.”

a gasp, “renjun admitting i’m right? rare.” renjun gives the other a lighter smack with a smile, chugging down the last bit of his water before heading over to you. he feels like he’s walking through snow whenever he wants to get to you, the resistance strong with each step. curling and uncurling his fingers, he loosened his freezing hands as you wrap up the conversation with mark.

“renjun! have a good rest? donghyuck was trying to avoid you for the past fifteen minutes, because he knew you’d get another headache if he talked to you.”

“i’m having one right now,” renjun jokes, emphasising his point by rubbing some fingers on his temple.

your laugh is like first snow. or like the heater that’s currently fuelling the house with heat. he isn’t sure what to choose, but he knows he likes it and wants to make you laugh more.

“do you need to rest again? i’ll promise i’ll be quiet-“

“delivery?” someone calls out. with a shout, you’re already at the door, receiving another batch of booze since the grocery shopping you went on earlier severely underestimated how much these boys can drink. “oh- uh-“ renjun swoops in like prince charming, hand brushing over yours while he steps forward to help you. they tingle like electricity, deciding against pulling away which would leave you to struggle.

“miss (l/n) (y/n) and mr huang renjun. please freeze in your place,” haechan’s annoying voice penetrates throughout all the conversation happening and you swear the man beside you mutters a curse as you two try to haul the booze past the member. “place the beer down. you aren’t going anywhere, anyway.”

before any of you can ask for an explanation, he points above you which displayed a mistletoe. “surprise!”

the delivery man’s voice scares you, until you realise it’s johnny, hidden under a very smart disguise of a fake moustache and a replica of the uniform. your mouth hangs open even when johnny squeezes past you with the booze effortlessly hanging from one arm, sighing inaudibly at the absence of the heavy drinks.

“so?” the members are looking at you expectedly like they’re watching a movie. there’s endless thoughts swirling in your mind even when renjun grabs your hand with his timid one, but it calms you down just a little when he brushes a thumb over your skin. it’s like you’re waiting for the director to yell out ‘cut!’; even you thought you’d do better on a movie set.

“(y/n)-“

he’s cut off by your lips crashing onto his, garnering a few ooohs and ahhs, including the satisfied smiles and sighs of relief. renjun’s lips taste like a mixture of the candy cane drink he spat out earlier, and some whiskey with coke. it’s a confusing taste, but with the pace your lips are moving with each other, it allows you to draw out every other time you imagined kissing huang renjun.

it doesn’t even come close, if you’re being honest and even if you’re standing in front of countless other men he calls his members in a ridiculously sized k-pop group. renjun deepens the kiss when he turns his head, cold, but clammy hands coming up the cup your cheeks. they shock you for just a bit and there’s a shameless smile into the kiss as renjun continues to deliver pecks onto your own.

he chuckle and it sounds like well-written christmas movies, or the very first listen to michael bublé’s christmas album. you aren’t sure what to choose, but you know you like it and want to make him chuckle more.

in a blink of an eye, you’ve grabbed his hand, heading straight for one of the rooms that you often see when renjun’s gaming with haechan. you recognise it straight away from the set-up and in a rush to shut the door, you stumble just a bit before meeting the hard wood of the door in a roar of laughter.

“great, now they’ve locked two people out,” haechan nudges johnny.

“three!” johnny’s partner calls from the doorway, which makes the living room shake in another round of cheers, getting back into the natural flow of things before everything got interrupted by a plant. faintly, you hear them ask if the plan worked, and haechan’s prideful answer right after.

slowly, you peek out of your hiding spot being your hands. renjun’s eyes shine, “so you like me.” it comes out flatter than he expected and he winces.

you snort, taking a step closer to him on the door, half leaning on it. without any prompting, the other’s arms encircle your waist, now pulling you flush against him while your head rest on his front. the next moments are spent in comfortable silence, the rowdy party going on outside giving you a little of a main character moment. your breathing syncs up, chest expanding and contracting with the deep breaths you take. there’s always a puff of mist leaving your lips, but it appears less now that you’re in your crush’s arms.

“yeah. i like you,” you nod, coming to face him after the tight embrace. his fingers touch your cheek experimentally and you flinch, the pads freezing cold to the touch. maybe it’s because he didn’t touch whiskey for the past half ’n hour. gently, you take his hands in yours. “why’re you always freezing?”

“ugh. you figured me out. tactic to get you to hold my hands.” throwing your head back in a silent laugh, you shake your head in disbelief.

“at least you haven’t caught on to me, holding your hands down so you won’t have to-” a kiss to one corner of his mouth. “restrict me from-” another to the other. “doing this.” lastly to his lips.

renjun entertains your dramatic flair with his jaw hung open. it doesn’t last long, though. “why would i restrict you from doing that?” you shrug, letting go of his hands now that they gained sufficient warmth. renjun silently decides it’s not enough, but first, he wants to kiss you again. his fingers are less freakishly cold now, brushing against your skin to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. it sits there obediently, dissimilar with the way you did it. ‘it always falls out!’ you want to tell him later, but first, you want to kiss him again.

“huang renjun, you drive me crazy.” grinning, renjun knows it’s your way of confessing before his lips collide with yours with the fervour that hallmark movies lacked, and ironically, a plot which hallmark movies embodied. and just like that, you wish you could hold a pause icon over your head, because you wanted this to last for as long as it could.

[marahuyos]

how they kiss: genshin boys

*:･ﾟ✧ nothing much, just me describing how diluc, kaeya, childe and zhongli kiss. this piece is mostly just me trying to practice how to write kisses.

tw: slight suggestive themes, swearing, character story spoilers for childe, zhongli

✧ Diluc Ragnvindr

• A tentative flame-you don’t know whether it would spark and rise up in flames or die out in smoke, leaving nothing but a charred mess. That’s how Diluc is. You know he wasn’t good at this and he’s both thankful that you’re patient enough and annoyed that he couldn’t even muster a single kiss. At the start of your relationship, he is like a flame on a matchstick during a snowstorm. He burns but with how cold the world is, he fights to survive. With you, you are the closed space that blocks the harsh snow. You are the hands that cradle his flame ever so gently. He may be the one with the Pyro Vision but you warm his cold heart.

• His lips are slightly chapped but you’ll be lucky when you catch them moist, tasting of wine when Diluc taste tests new wines. When you do catch him with wine-flavored lips, you would press your lips against his with an excited grin on your mouth. With your sudden kiss, Diluc had to open his mouth to emit a gasp as you took the chance to slip your tongue inside his mouth. The taste of wine was stronger, your tongue slowly gliding over his own just to taste the sinful beverage. Your hands would grasp his shoulders, massaging the muscle that’s been way too tense. You think that you have surprised him from your impromptu kiss but Diluc is just as passionate as you are.

• Reaching around your back, he pushed you closer to him, chests bumping against each other as he began gaining control. He tilts your head, his ruby eyes staring at your surprised ones. He parts for a chance to breathe before diving back in to claim your lips again. The wine he tasted was still present on his lips but, combined with your taste, he was already getting drunk on the flavor. His nose nearly brushes against your cheek as he hears you mewl from his sudden outburst. His hands roam around your back, leaving warm tingles across your skin despite the layers of clothes. Before you two part for the next breath of air, he whispers into your lips how cheeky you are, his breathless voice making you swoon.

“You truly test my patience, love. Don’t think that I will back down once I’m through with you.”

✧ Kaeya Alberich

• As much as he’s cold to the touch, being a Cryo user and all, he is rather like the freshly fallen snow on a winter’s morning. Yes, it may bite your skin (also doesn’t help that Kaeya is a biter) but it also leaves you tingling after the cold shock response. That’s how he leaves you after kisses: shivering but wanting more as he chuckles on how cute and needy you are for him.

• He’s a charmer so it’s not an uncommon sight to see him with pampered skin and well-taken care of hair. So, as such, you bet that his lips are just as soft and plump (like his chest) because he always seeks out the best lip care. You’re jealous of the way his lips just shine naturally and how pouty they are every time he speaks. Your jealousy became a weapon for him, as he would always go beyond your personal space, making sure his lips are the focus as he smirks. And if that didn’t make you want to wipe the smug smirk off of his face, there was probably more teasing remarks that Kaeya would’ve used. You taste mint and hints of berry when you kissed his lips, swallowing in the chuckle that he emitted. His hand reaches around the back of your head as he tilts your head, deepening the kiss as he teases your lips.

• Remember when I said that he’s a biter? He would always nibble on your lips if the cold wasn’t enough for you. First, it was small kisses on your bottom lip then his teeth gently nibbling on it. He takes his time, making sure your lips are swollen before kissing you fully and letting the cold in your mouth. His one eye is open to see your closed ones, which clearly meant you were enjoying it. He chuckles against your lips before running his tongue along the roof of your mouth before parting away, a trail of spittle connecting your lips. His eye shined with wildly when he sees your dazed look.

“Clocking out already? We’ve only just begun, darling.”

✧ Childe/Tartaglia/Ajax

• There’s three ways on how Childe kisses-and it all really depends on who you’re talking to. In his years as a Harbinger and in his time wandering the Abyss with his teacher, the young man has garnered many a façade. He doesn’t just hand out his love for free-you must brave through his storm that he brewed for himself, the capsizing waves that swallows anything in its path. Only then will you see the eye of the storm and see Ajax.

• As Childe, you literally get what you hear. Childe’s kisses is, well, childish. Quick little pecks on your lips when he’s in a hurry, a loud, obnoxious kiss on your cheek, or him rubbing his nose softly against yours-all of those things are Childe. You can’t really tell if he was ever serious at all when he smirks playfully at your flushed face. As Tartaglia, this is the storm that you need to brave. He is a Harbinger for a reason and his kisses are just as ruthless. Overbearing, domineering, he makes sure that everything you see is only him. His lips glide over to yours before sinking his teeth on your lip until it’s swollen. His tongue would push in, teeth nearly clacking against each other as his hands grip your skin to the point of painful. As a warrior, he dominates, he conquers, and you were no exception.

• But as Ajax, sweet sweet Ajax, he’s none of those things. He lets go of Foul Legacy, he lets go of his weapons-in front of you, it is merely a young lad who grew up too fast too soon. He is the still waters, easily disturbed by any force, so you take his face between your hands as you initiated the kiss. First it was small pecks, then a pleasant plant of the lips against his before whispering against his lips that he is your home. What sounded like a choked cry died in his throat, as his own hands clutched your hips shakily as he draws you closer. His lips are surprisingly smooth, either from the Hydro Vision he’d been using or he’s taken heed to his older sister’s skincare. There was no danger, no tension, no ulterior motive each stroke of tongue you two share. Here, he is finally himself.

“I don’t know what god would give me someone like yourself, babe... But I’m grateful that you’re here.”

✧ Zhongli

• Morax, Rex Lapis, Vago Mundo... many names, many lives, many loves. Zhongli had such a long life of war, love, and everything that no one should’ve ever experienced. He is as long-standing as the earth (haha), never faltering, even with so much weathering. He should be as long-standing, there was no room for cracks, even as a mortal man. Yet, he seems like he didn’t know that you’ve already made several cracks across his heart and weathering him down to a man who is in love.

• His kisses are secure. Vanilla maybe, but you know that Zhongli is being a gentleman. With a hand under your chin to tilt up your face towards his, his thumb smoothly glides over your bottom lip before planting his lips against yours. He moves his lips against yours slowly, giving small pecks along the way, before diving back in. His other hand smoothly glides over your back before settling on your waist, pulling you closer. Meanwhile, your hands would softly tug at his ponytail, making the gentleman shiver as he gives a warning pinch to your waist for being cheeky.

• But there are times when that gentlemanly face breaks through. Most of the time it may be Venti getting him drunk. In this moment, he remembers that he was a ruthless god who formed this land from his own hands. He is the god of contracts and if you wanted it rougher, then he expects to hold your end of the bargain. Excuse my sudden twist, but I am a firm fuckin believer of dragon Zhongli and ya’ll can pry his elongated, forked tongue swiping across your lips before slithering inside your mouth off of my cold dead hands. His fangs threatening to bleed your lips... unless you wanted it, then who is he to oblige? His clawed fingers poking holes through your clothes as more skin is accessible to his scaly hands. There is no escaping this contract.

“My treasure, you created this contract. Now you must abide to the conditions.”

[roanniom]

The Night That Follows

Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: 8,000~ 

Summary: While celebrating a successful mission, you and Poe accidently ingest a mysterious beverage that makes it hard to resist one another, helping you forget the stress that weighs you down and the friendship that you’ve been holding between you two as a shield. 

Note: This is my first ever non-ADCU fic and it is dedicated to the ever lovely and supportive @paper-n-ashes who urged me to get out of my comfort zone and cheered me on.  

Warnings: NSFW, dirty talk, alcohol consumption, sex pollen, drugged drink (it’s drugged with the sex pollen by a 3rd party and not with malicious intent but it still might be triggering), masturbation (f/m), PIV sex, unprotected sex, war-related angst 

When people talk about war, they often discuss the paralyzing fear, the numbing depression. Hopelessness that spreads through your veins like cold water as you face immeasurable odds and stare death in the face day after day. And you can attest to these feelings. You experience them with each dawn that breaks, muddy in the sky regardless of the atmosphere shrouding whatever planet you find yourself waking on each morning. Your life is transient, full of ships and bases and camps. The constants are the clothes on your back, the friends in your squadron (those who survive), and the x-wing you hop in each time danger calls.

The other constant is the part of war that people do not discuss. The rush of adrenaline every time you make it out of a tough scrape. Adrenaline that burns your veins, evaporating the icy hopelessness that had flooded you up until the minute your boots hit turf and your jellied knees catch up to the reality that you are still very much alive. The euphoria that crackles in your brain when you spy your best mate zooming down from above, finally landing and throwing themselves into your arms in the hug you never thought you’d experience again after their coms had gone down in a fire fight. The absolute debauchery of a night of celebration after such a fire fight. Because nobody needs to live quite as much as those who may die.

Which is how you find yourself here, on this non-descript jungle planet, the name of which you didn’t catch during your descent because honestly there have been so many jungle planets and they have all become little more than coordinates on a screen to you at this point. You and your squad have been set up with a mini-festival by the resistance-sympathizing locals as a thank you for your recent decimation of their First Order oppressors. The operation had been pretty seamless, thanks in no small part to the excellent teamwork between you and a one Poe Dameron.

Your flying today had rivaled some of his best, which is certainly saying something since Poe prides himself on being the best pilot in the resistance. You certainly gave him a run for his money, outflying TIE fighters and swiveling shuttle cannons in a perfectly choreographed tandem maneuver wherein the two of you manipulated your assailants to ultimately destroy themselves.

As you knock back a burning shot of the local alcoholic beverage, the liquid tingling and warming you all the way down, you search the triumphant crowd for the cocky pilot who had helped you set the stage for this celebration. You wouldn’t dwell on the earlier events of the day much more tonight. Wouldn’t think much of the comrades you’d lost in the struggle. That was an ache that would throb back to life tomorrow. Tonight, the priority is living.

It is then that you lock eyes with Poe Dameron through the throngs of semi-drunken revelers. His handsome face splits into a wide, cocky grin, so you adopt an exasperated smirk in response as he pushes his way towards you. Such is the game you play. A dance, if you will. Poe plays the role of the self-assured, overly confident golden boy while you, his long suffering partner, humble him with your good-natured criticism and ever rolling eyes.

“Alright there, Sweets?” Poe practically drawls as he reaches you, the nickname both a term of endearment and a teasing reference to the sweet tooth that keeps you hoarding candies of all kinds in your bunk, much to Poe’s own benefit. You beam up at him and upend your little glass to demonstrate its emptiness.

“On my way there, Fly Boy.”

“Looks like you’re falling behind, rookie. Like you did on that triple barrel twist today.”

You throw a punch that lands a little too lightly on his shoulder to produce the grunt and showy flail that he graces you with.

“First of all, you’re not allowed to call me rookie anymore. Your dumb ass might need to be constantly reassured that you’re ‘best pilot in the resistance,’ but by now I am, at worst, second best.” Your gut warms and you’re not sure if it’s the drink or Poe’s deep, full-bodied laugh in response. “And second of all, we don’t talk about the day if we make it to the night.”

Poe almost seems to sober at your words, a phrase of his tossed back at him. The smile remains, though, and he tosses an arm around you before dragging you over to the table that’s been set up with refreshments.

“Right you are, Sweets,” Poe agrees quietly. Louder now and injecting you two into the crowd surrounding the cluster of bottles, he continues, “as for you being second best pilot, I’d rather let the squad decide before you go getting a head too big to fit in your helmet.”

This receives a laugh from the crowd as well as another smattering of slaps thrown towards Poe’s chest.

“Dameron, we all know you already have your own helmet custom made so you can stuff that massive ego in there,” your friend Myrna.

“And those curls,” you add, reaching up and ruffling your hand through his hair in that way that always makes his nose scrunch up in mock anger.

“If you must know, there’s something else they also have to custom make me…” Poe says, grabbing your wrist and forcing your hand to slide down his chest towards the bottom of his flight suit zipper and wiggling his eyebrows. You shriek and yank your hand away.

“In your dreams, Dameron.” Poe leans down toward you so that his face is close enough for you to feel his breath fan across your cheeks.

“Or perhaps in yours?”

Suddenly a small, wrinkled face appears between you. It’s an elderly female member of the local alien race and she’s beaming up at you, holding two steaming mugs and smiling around a garbled statement in a language you don’t recognize.

“Oh I’m sorry, I’m not sure I…” you interrupt her, glancing awkwardly between her massive eyes and Poe’s confused ones.

“I might be able to translate!” Myrna cries out, stumbling forward with a newly refilled glass in her hand.

“You sure that’s not just the liquor talking?” Poe asks with a chuckle. Myrna waves him off and kneels unsteadily to listen to the old woman. More garbled speech issues forward as the woman gestures between you and Poe with her mugs. Myrna nods several times and gives little hums of agreement and affirmation. You and Poe trade glances of amusement during the interaction, but you have to look away when the upturned corner of Poe’s mouth begins to distract you.

“Alright alright,” Myrna pipes up. You turn back in time to see Myrna standing back up to her full height, now holding the two mugs, while the woman waddles back into the crowd.

“What’s the deal?” Poe asks, slinging his arm back around your shoulders. You resist the knee jerk actions that come to mind, both to slap his touch away and to lean into it, standing rigid instead.

“She said these are for you,” Myrna says, pushing the steaming mugs into your hands and Poe’s.

“Did she say why?” You peer at the milky, opalescent contents curiously. Myrna has already moved on, however, turning back to the pilot she’d been hanging on before you and Poe had approached. You look to Poe but he shrugs.

“I don’t know, something about you guys deserving it.” Myrna waves her hand dismissively, obviously ready to get back to her own evening. You look up at Poe, unsure, but he’s nodding and smiling.

“Hear that, Sweets? Seems like word travels fast that we’re the top two pilots,” Poe says cheekily, clinking his mug to yours before throwing back his head and downing its contents in one gulp. Your insides ignite at his acknowledgment, as well as the bob of his adam’s apple, but your eyes still flit warily to your beverage.

“We don’t even know what it is and you’re drinking it?”

“Honey, I’m pretty sure that liquor we were taking shots of earlier was actually jet fuel, I don’t think we need to be too worried about this.” Poe smacks his lips and runs his finger around the inside of the mug. “And besides, it’s really kriffing good.”

Watching the way his cheeks hollow out as he sucks the last dregs of his drink from his finger makes a heat boil in the pit of the stomach. You decide you actually are quite thirsty, and since your curiosity is stronger than your apprehension, you knock the liquid back yourself.

“Atta girl!” Poe cheers you on, nudging you. The drink is sweet and thick on your tongue like a melted version of the ice cream you’d tasted once, many years ago. You can still remember the creamy texture, very much worth the credits paid to the traveling vendor who’d brought it to your village during the hottest summer of your childhood. As you swallow this liquid down, however, its cold temperature changes into a burn, similar to alcohol, though smoother than any liquor you’d ever had.

“Good, right?” Poe asks, eyebrows raised. You nod and lick your lips, sure that you’re imagining things when Poe’s eyes flicker down to your darting tongue.

“That was actually pretty good,” you concede with a grin.

“So what have we learned tonight?” Poe prompts, grabbing your mug from your hands and placing it next to his on a nearby table. You shake your head.

“Your cockiness extends to believing locals on a miniscule planet find you special?”

“The correct answer was ‘always give things a chance,’ Sweets, but you can continue being closeminded if you want,” Poe responds with a chuckle. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and makes to walk away.

“Fine!” You reach out and grab his arm before he can leave. When he rounds back on you with a wide smile you roll your eyes and refuse eye contact. “And just so you know, I’m a lot more open minded than you think, Dameron.”

“Is that so, rookie?” You bristle but as the glee raises in his eyes at your reaction you do your best to tamp it down.

“I’m…flexible,” you say, your grin begrudging. A hubbub breaks out beyond you in the crowd as the makeshift band that had assembled to play party music transitions to a particularly festive song, causing both you and Poe to watch as people begin forming an impromptu dance floor. When Poe turns back at you and raises his eyebrows, expectant, you throw up your hands defensively.

“No. Don’t look at me like that, Fly Boy,” you’re quick to say, but Poe’s even quicker, having already grabbed you by the hand and pulled you to him. Your body collides with his and his other hand finds the dip of your waist.

“Oh I’m sorry, what was that I just heard someone say about being open minded?” Poe asks. In a sudden fluid motion he dips you, bending you over so that your back is parallel to the ground and his face hovers over yours. “Being flexible?”

You let him pull you back up and steady yourself with a hand on his chest to catch your balance, dizzy now, most likely from the suddenness of the motion. You’re about to toss back a witty retort, possibly something that will knock him down a few pegs, but then you catch the glint in his eye and a smile spreads across your lips unbidden.

“You get one dance, Dameron.”

~*~

One dance turned into many, as it turns out. The band, upon realizing their audience’s appetite for raucous music, had begun a steady rotation of upbeat tunes. The dance floor had expanded, spilling out of its original confines in the center of the town square and into the concession areas on the perimeter. Resistance members danced and drank, their bodies jumping and moving to the beat in one chaotic mass of excess energy and euphoria. Bodies writhe against one another in all directions as people seek out friction that can confirm to them that they did indeed survive the day’s trials.

You’re experiencing friction of your own in your little portion of the dance floor. Where things had started out innocently – energetic bouncing to the beat and moving in unison – the tone had long changed. At this point Poe is behind you, arms slung dangerously low on your hips to hold you against him, hands pressed right above your pelvis. The feeling of his chest pressing against your back, his hips bracketing your ass – you’ve lost yourself in the sensations. The rhythm of the music shakes through your muscles but instead of tense and tired, they’re loose and buzzing.

Though truth be told, they aren’t the only thing buzzing. The proximity of Poe’s hands to your lower body feels charged like a magnet. Without thinking you press your hands over the backs of his, encouraging pressure on your lower abdomen. You swear you hear Poe growl behind you has his hands pull you further to him, but it could also be the roar of the crowd. Your hips move in sync, your ass grinding against him in time with the music. Escapism in its purest form is what you’re experiencing in Poe’s arms, held against Poe’s body, matching Poe’s motions. It’s heady and distracting and everything you could ask for to make living feel like living, especially in the aftermath of a day centered on death. You’re content to let this moment last as long as the universe allows.

That is until you realize that the increasing beat you’d thought was a shift in the music is actually the rapid crescendo of your own heartbeat.

Swallowing you find your throat is thick, saliva pooling in your mouth inexplicably. You take a deep breath and allow your mind to reel. How long had you been feeling like this? Why hadn’t you noticed these feelings coming on?

One of the large hands at your hip begins sliding up along the plane of your side and you get your answer. The weight of his touch lights your skin on fire as it drags up and across your collar bone. Your breath feels ragged, rattling around in lungs that can’t seem to take in oxygen no matter how high your chest rises and falls. Poe’s hand lingers on your throat for a second so you swallow again, with even less luck than before. His hand reaches up to grip your jaw which he uses to turn your head back toward him.

Oh.

Poe continues to move behind you, his motions controlling you both on the floor, but his face is strained. Sweat dots his temples, gleaming in his curls, and his teeth seem gritted, making his jaw set at a striking angle. His eyes pin you down, however, and they keep your attention as you gaze back, wide-eyed.

“You okay, rookie?” Poe’s voice is deeper than normal, huskier. The way it reverberates through your body makes a rumbling bubble up deep inside your chest. The beginnings of a moan, perhaps? You’re quick to gasp a response before such a sound has a chance to make its way into the air between you.

“I’m…feeling quite strange.”

The hand still at your waist tightens its grip while the other rejoins on the opposite side. You have to gasp again to keep from moaning. Suddenly you’re being maneuvered forward, Poe’s guidance weaving you through the crowd with ease despite the congested revelry.

Neither of you see the way Myrna is watching you both with a knowing smirk from her place draped around her own handsome pilot beau. Or the way the little old woman who’d gifted you the beverage hovers on the outskirts of the dance floor, a proud look on her wrinkled face as she eyes your retreating figures.

~*~

You’re not really able to follow where Poe is directing you, mainly because of how the imprint of his hands on your body seems to be searing into your skin through your flight suit. While your accelerated heart rate was the thing you had been most worried about, now you are equally worried about the dull ache that has seated itself in the pit of your stomach. You bite down hard on your lip to keep the moan from spilling out, the one you’ve been suppressing since the moment you became conscious to your current discomfort.

When Poe’s stride finally slows to a stop only then are you able to take in your surroundings. Blinking, you’re surprised to find that you’re now outside of the town, far from the lights and bustle of the party, walking into the silent clearing that contains the squadron’s parked aircrafts.

“Why are we all the way out here?” you ask, unsettled by how deep your voice sounds in the darkness.

“Needed to get away from the crowd.” You’re even more unsettled by how breathless Poe’s voice is as he says his first words since the dance floor. So unsettled that you turn in his arms so you can finally take in his disheveled appearance fully.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know, it’s the weirdest thing. One minute everything was fine and the next…”

“You can’t catch your breath,” you finish for him and he nods gravely. Both of your chests are practically heaving, pressing into each other with each exhale. When you become aware of this, it also brings awareness of the way his chest pressed up against yours is also adding pressure to your nipples. Since when were your nipples hard? The night is balmy, a cool breeze barely able to disturb the moist warmth that settles in the jungle terrain. You feel sweat begin to collect on the back of your neck and your hairline, much like the sweat causing Poe to shine a bit in the moonlight. And yet your nipples are hard and a shudder runs through your body, nerve endings clearly ten steps ahead of you, taking in some experience to which you’d yet to catch up.

“Wait a minute, look at me,” Poe suddenly orders, his fingers wrapping around your chin to lift your face toward his. You freeze as he stares down at you, eyes widening at whatever he sees.

“What is it?” you ask, voice urgent, almost frightened.

“Your pupils are wide as planets,” he mutters, distracted fingers drawing up the side of your jaw to press to the pulse point at your throat. “Your heartbeat is out of control.”

“I haven’t been able to calm down,” you say, nodding but getting more worried by the second. “Why can’t I calm down? Are you feeling the same way?”

Poe’s mouth presses into a hard line and he turns away abruptly, head tilting down.

“Oh fuck.”

“What?” You try to pull him back toward you but he doesn’t budge.

“I think…we’ve been drugged.”

Your blood runs cold and a hand flies to cover your mouth. You’d known tonight was too good to be true. Your mind races, making connections out of thin air, trying to place when and where you could have possibly come in close enough proximity to First Order agents to be compromised.

“But what – how – what can we do? What is it? Is it deadly?” You’re cut off by a sound issuing from Poe’s now curved body. You wonder at first if it’s a sob, which makes sense because you’re about ready to cry yourself. But then you realize it’s a chuckle.

“I wouldn’t say deadly. Just exceedingly inconvenient.”

“So you know what it is then?” you prompt, tugging at his shoulder some more to try and see his face. “Tell me!”

“Well for starters I’m pretty sure it was that drink the old woman gave us.”

Fuck.

Of course. What was the one suspicious thing you’d ingested all day? The fact that you hadn’t thought about it sooner makes you want to kick yourself, but you press on instead, anxious to have the matter dealt with.

“What does it do?” You hate the tremor that colors your voice. At that Poe finally turns around and you take him in all at once, trying to assess what he could have been hiding. His tall, wide-legged stance makes it easy to notice after a few seconds. As your gaze moves lower on his body you finally see the massive tent forming below the zipper line of his flight suit.

Without even being able to mentally process what you’re looking at your body responds immediately. A rush of warmth and wetness floods the apex of your thighs and the moan that you’d so far been able to hold in finally makes it way out of your throat. Poe’s eyes, which had recently gone hooded, widen in response to the lewd sound. You clap a hand over your mouth and snap your eyes back up to his face, away from the rigid shape that had made the muscles inside you contract wantonly around nothing.

“It’s made from a plant that’s meant to accelerate sex drive,” Poe says matter-of-factly.

You almost don’t hear him because your eyes have already slid back down his body, feasting on the sight of his impressive bulge. You’d heard stories of Poe’s sexual prowess, many from the man’s own loud mouth. You knew he’d satisfied many members of the Resistance, male and female alike. But you had never truly let yourself consider what he’d be like. What he’d look like. What he’d feel like…

“Why would she possibly give that to us of all people?” You feel like you’re going to cry. The feelings coursing through your body are overwhelming.

“Maybe she went around spiking many people at the party. Maybe she just thought you and I would look hot together? You can’t blame her for that one.” Poe winks at you and it diffuses some of your angst. You let out a tense laugh and shake your head.

“How do we make it stop?” you force yourself to ask, just as you force yourself yet again to look back up in his eyes. Poe averts his own, a sheepish look overtaking his face. When he doesn’t answer you step forward and grab his arm in alarm, trying not to consider the way his bicep bulges under his sleeve. “Poe?!”

“We have to…take care of it.”

You’re launching yourself away from him before he can finish the sentence. You probably knew the answer before you’d even asked the question, but his words still sent electricity through your spine.

“We can’t. That’s…that’s crazy – you’re crazy, Dameron!”

“Hey, you think I like this? Standing here like an idiot with my dick so hard I can barely see straight?”

The sexual nature of his words, spoken so plainly and without euphemism for the first time, makes a new wave of wetness pool between your legs against your will.

“Don’t….talk about it,” you say through gritted teeth, closing your eyes in an attempt to center yourself.

“What? Don’t talk about my aching cock?” he asks, almost as a challenge. He’s frustrated now, egged on by your attitude.

“Stop it.”

“Are you about to tell me you aren’t wet right now?”

You turn your back on him in a childish and fruitless attempt at blocking out his words. When you don’t reply you hear his footsteps as he approaches from behind.

“If we’re both having the same reaction, and I’m certain we are, then I’d imagine you’re practically dripping right now.”

His words would have made your eyes cross if you didn’t have them shut so tightly. A hand molds around your hip while the other grasps at the side of your neck, both working in tandem to pull your back flush against his front. The impact, though gentle, knocks the wind out of you. Or whatever wind had been in you in the first place. His lips are at your ear then and you melt into his touch.

“If we take care of this together we’ll go back to normal.”

“…back to normal?” you ask, simply repeating and not really aware of your words.

“Exactly.”

“I…I don’t know.” Poe’s hardened length is pressing into your ass now, insistent and firm behind you. The hand on your hip migrates lower to pull you against him. A swivel of his hips causes your own to follow the momentum, gyrating in their own right.

“We can be quick,” Poe coos, his voice vibrating over your earlobe where his lips are making contact with your skin. Another low chuckle sounds. “Or I can take my time if you want. Either way, I can promise you’ll enjoy it.”

There’s your cocky Fly Boy.

You wrench yourself from his grasp and take a few steadying steps away before gaining the wherewithal to turn back and face him once more. He looks supremely disappointed, arms still outstretched in the place where you had just been.

“Does this really have to be a…team effort?” you ask, face screwed up with discomfort. Poe runs a hand through his hair and casts a distracted glance about your surroundings.

“I mean I guess theoretically one could take care of themselves – ”

“Great!” you cut him off and stalk around to the other side of his x-wing. Of course he’d brought you to his ship. You look around for your own but when you can’t find it you plop yourself down on the ground.

“Are you kriffing serious?” comes Poe’s angry voice behind you as he stomps over. “We could bang this out and feel better but you’re just going to – ”

“Oh ‘bang’ this out? Real nice, Dameron.”

“You know what I mean.” You can practically hear his eye roll.

“The other side,” you say simply, lowering the zipper on your flight suit. When you don’t hear the sound of his retreating footsteps, however, you pause. “Stay on the other side of the ship, Dameron.”

He grumbles but does as you say. When you finally hear the sound of him throwing himself to the ground, you lift the tab of your zipper again. However, the loud and sudden ziiiip indicating that he’s yanked open his own garment seems ring out then in the clearing and you’re inundated with mental images of what that must look like. Poe sprawled on the ground with his flight suit open and askew. You imagine the expanse of his chest, the way the muscle would ripple in the shadows of the jungle. You’d seen him without a shirt before, the arms of his flight suit tied at his waist as he reclined beneath his x-wing making repairs. Covered in sweat and grease. The memory and the subsequent lurid thoughts have you dipping your hand down into the small opening you’ve made in your clothes, not fully comfortable enough to expose yourself entirely to the elements. When you reach the place between your thighs you have to swallow the gasp that bursts forth at the realization that Poe had been right. You’re not just wet. You’re dripping.

“Fuck.”

You think you say it quietly but a chuckle from the other side of the ship proves otherwise.

“Need any help over there?”

You ignore him and try to focus in on your own body, closing your eyes. You allow a hand to ghost over your breast as you ease a finger through your folds. You feel the insistent thrumming of your pulse even down below and your breath is shallow in your chest. The images dancing behind your eyelids show you flashes, glimpses of things you try to banish from your mind. The angle of Poe’s jaw. His faint, ever present stubble. The arch of his eyebrow. The curve of his smirk. His ass in those pants.

“Sweets…”

Poe’s voice interrupts a whimper you hadn’t even realized you were releasing.

“Poe.” Your voice is small and it cracks around his name. Your muscles are contracting but nothing you do eases the sensation. It just continues building within you. “It hurts.”

“Just come over here. I don’t even have to touch you. Just let me help you through it.”

You ponder the darkness before you, the way it envelops the other aircrafts in this makeshift parking zone. You hear a shick shick shick behind you and your cunt aches. Completely in response to the siren call of Poe Dameron’s building pleasure. You’re immediately intensely jealous. Jealous of the way that, you assumed, he was having more luck getting himself off than you were, despite the fingers inside you right now. Jealous of the way his voice didn’t crack when he beckoned you over.

But most of all jealous of the fact that he’s the one currently touching his hard cock. Not you.

You will yourself to stand up, pulling your hand out of your flight suit but not bothering to zip it back up. On jelly legs you make your way to the other side of the ship. The far side, facing away from the town square and the distant glow of the party you’ve now forgotten.

As you round the edge of the x-wing you bite your lip at the sight before you. Poe is indeed sprawled out with his suit zipped all the way down. His thick member protrudes from the bottom of the opening, a fist moving up and down rapidly, pulling from root to flushed tip in skilled motions. However the eyes that gaze up at you from under his unruly mop of curly hair are not doused with pleasure and satisfaction as you’d imagined. Instead he looks pained, almost agonized. At the sight of you he sits up a bit and does his best to give you a reassuring smile though it comes out as more of a grimace.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful, rookie.”

“That’s the drink talking,” you dismiss, despite the way your stomach swoops as you move to settle yourself down next to him, careful not to make contact. “And you know I hate you calling me rookie.”

“I’ll call you anything you want, baby, as long as you start touching yourself.”

Your cunt pulses at his words so suddenly that you almost double over. Your breathing, already ragged, speeds up as you feel the overwhelming urge to have something deep inside you. Dropping your hand into the opening in your suit you halt, however, watching Poe warily in your peripheral vision. He catches you looking and reluctantly stills the hand moving on member.

“Would sitting back to back help?” he sighs. You nod, scrambling over so that your back is to his.

This is better. This is much better, you think as you dip your hand back between your legs and into the waiting slick. You drag a finger in tight circles over your clit and do your best to calm the racing thoughts that flit back to images of Poe’s body.

The body that is currently pressed to yours, though not at all in the manner you would prefer.

Poe grunts then, making you lose your rhythm.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve wanted you, you know.”

You cut your answering gasp off at the source, not daring to make a sound lest it interrupt this information that you desperately needed to here. He interprets your silence correctly and continues.

“I’ve thought about you. When I’m in the cockpit on my way to some distant planet. When not even hyper speed can get me there quick enough before thoughts of you creep in.” He almost sounds mad, but you get it. The emotions coursing through your body along with the hormones are driving you wild and you don’t know how to feel.

“What…what are the thoughts about?” you can’t help but ask.

“I’d love to say it’s your smile or your brains or something sweet like that. And I do think about those things too, don’t get me wrong,” he says on a hoarse chuckle. “But it’s mainly your body.”

You slip a third finger inside your cunt as he says this, his words and the feeling mixing to cause you to let out an unchecked moan. You feel Poe’s body shudder against you.

“Shit Sweets you’re killing me.” You feel him tense as his hand begins moving faster. “I think about how you look poured into that flight suit. The way your tits and ass jiggle when you hop into your x-wing – fuck.” Another shudder wracks through his body and you can’t take it anymore. The way you’re touching yourself isn’t the way you usually do it. Not in those rare moments where you’ve got the sleeping quarters to yourself and you’re able to get yourself off in your bunk to images of a chiseled jawline, a clothed bulge, rippling muscles, soft, curly hair…

You abruptly pitch yourself forward to balance yourself on your knees and one hand while the remaining hand redoubles its efforts between your legs. The shift in position ends your physical contact with Poe and he swivels to see.

“What are you – ”

“Don’t turn around,” you gasp out. Your new angle works in your favor as your swollen clit becomes more sensitive, pulled down by gravity so that every swipe of your finger becomes more potent. “But for the love of gods, don’t stop talking.”

Poe is taken aback by your sudden forwardness, but he doesn’t let it faze him for long. Instead you hear his renewed efforts at jerking off as the sound of skin swiping across skin, made smoother by spit and precum, gets louder behind you.

“What do you want me to talk about? How much I wish it was your tight little pussy I was fucking instead of my fist?”

The whimper you release at that statement is unlike any sound you’ve ever made and it only spurs Poe on.

“And I just know you’re tight. I know it. And wet too, just like I guessed you were. I can hear it, baby,” he practically growls and you become intensely away of the slick, creamy sounds coming from the rapid in and out, in and out rhythm of your fingers delving into your cunt. “You’re dripping, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” You close your eyes and hear his words and wish the fingers inside you were harder, thicker, him.

“You wish it was my cock inside you, I know you do. You don’t want to admit it but you wish I was pounding into you, making you feel good. Making the ache go away.”

Your answering whine confirms his beliefs and he lets out a triumphant grunt.

“Fuck, baby. I want it, too. Bury myself deep inside of you and fuck you till that drink wears off and you’re still screaming for me, that’s how good it would be.”

“Oh gods.”

“Tell me who you’re wet for.”

“Y-you.” It comes out small. You’re shocked that you even say it, especially with how much you’ve been fighting all of this. You want it. You want it in your bones and in your blood and in your tight, spasming cunt. But you also want Poe’s friendship. Want him to tousle your hair on the way to the hanger. Want him to keep sending you funny messages over your data pad, constantly trying to outdo your own silly riddles and jokes. Want to tease him and eat dinner with him in the mess hall and slap him when he says something stupid and yell at him when he does something dangerous and cry when he doesn’t come back on time from a mission…

A sob finds its way out of your body, sandwiched between two moans. You’re not sure Poe even heard it until his voice reaches your ears again, this time gentler.

“Sweets? Is this working for you?”

You take a shuddering breath before answering.

“No.”

You practically hear Poe slump in defeat, the rhythm of his hand on his length slowing down. You bite your lip before continuing.

“Take me, Poe.”

“What?” Poe whirls around so fast you feel the air woosh over you as he disturbs it. You jump to your feet, still facing away from him and yank your flight suit over your shoulders and down your body, stepping out so it pools on the ground. He watches as you get back down on your hands and knees before him in your underwear, ass in the air, waiting for him to catch up.

“I need you, Poe. Just…just please get inside me,” you say, reaching back to pull the damp fabric of your panties aside, exposing your glistening, swollen folds for him to see.

You don’t have to ask him a third time. He’s on you so fast that you’re confused by his motions. It takes a few seconds before you realize that he’s taken your discarded flight suit and stretched it out on the ground, positioning you over it so that your hands and knees are protected from the dirt. The sweetness of this considerate action is offset by the way his fingers dig harshly into your hips, maneuvering your ass so that it lines up with his pelvis. You tilt forward, aided by pressure on your lower back which raises your click cunt to the level of his cock.  

“I’m going to make you feel so good – ”

“No more words, Dameron. Just shut up and get your cock inside – FUCK.” He spears you mid-sentence and you immediately fall down onto your elbows. Your ass still in the air, held in place by his hard grip, receives a smack and you cry out, feeling no pain. Only pleasure as the sting ripples through you and into your clenching cunt. He feels it deep inside you and groans.

“Maybe you’re the one who needs to shut up, baby.” His words issue forth from gritted teeth. “Always fucking teasing me with that fucking mouth.” His hips rut into yours, taking up an unforgiving pace, while the rest of his body folds over yours so his chest pressed flush to your back. One hand closes tightly around your chin, wrenching up your head and dragging a finger over your bottom lip which has grown plump from biting. “This beautiful, bossy fucking mouth. Always telling me off, telling me what to do.”

Your tongue darts out to meet his skin and his other fingers caress your chin in response. It’s a stark contrast to the almost feral way he is still clutching your hip and driving into you over and over.

There’s almost no resistance. You’re tight, cunt clutching onto his throbbing cock in an effort to keep him buried inside, but you’re wetter than you’ve ever been and it’s making his thrusts effortless. You assume it’s a side effect of the drink. But in some part of your brain you can’t believe that a plant could possibly make a man’s cock feel as good as Poe’s does right now inside you. How a plant could cause you to feel pleasure that is not simply rooted in the way his hand drags down from your jaw to wrench your breasts out of the cups of your bra. How a plant could in any way magnify the surely already intoxicating feeling of Poe’s mouth working at the side of your neck, the curve of your shoulder.

“This working, baby? This doing it?” Poe checks in then, not relenting in his thrusts. Never relenting. “You’re squeezing me, so I know your little pussy likes it.”

A shuddering gasp kicks through you before you can answer his question and he laughs. The vibrations go straight from his cock to your clit and you whimper some more.

“Your sounds. I want to record these little sounds you’re making and play them back when I’m flying. Have you fill the space in my x-wing till I can’t take it any more.” Poe presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder, nipping and then laving the skin over with his tongue. “I’m going to hear these sounds in my dreams.”

“It’s…just…the drink,” you practically hiccup, barely able to form thoughts from the way your body has focused all energy, all recognitions of nerve endings to the space between your thighs. Poe slaps your ass again and you keen.

“Just listen to yourself, baby. No drink is making you sound this hot. That’s all you, Sweets.”

Before you can argue further you do take a second to listen. To the way your shallow breaths mix with whimpers and whines. The gurgle in the back of your throat when his cock bounces against your cervix. He’s right. It is hot. You are hot. You reach a hand down to your clit, desperate to increase the already mind-blowing stimulation, greedy for more.

“You feel so good. You’re sosososogood,” you barely manage to slur. Despite your inability to fully speak you make the attempt because you assume that if hearing your gasps is egging him on, your words will amplify it. And amplify it they do. Poe’s hips stutter for a second before he drops down heavier on you, thrusting deeper and from a more primal place. A hand savagely kneads at one of your breasts, playing with the nipple.  

“I’ve never been this full. I can’t take it, I can’t…”

“Seems like you’re taking it pretty well, baby,” Poe coos, pressing more kisses to the side of your neck.

“I need m-more,” you gasp, realizing with urgency that the pressure in your core is finally building past the plateau of the last…hour? Half an hour? How long had this been going on? All night? It doesn’t matter because Poe’s inside you and he’s listening to you and suddenly you’re being slammed into with all the force he can muster. He expertly wrings pleasure from your body and you feel yourself careening toward a release that you can’t describe. Just out of reach and full of all the potential energy inherent in an object rocketing toward the moon only to soon plummet back to the depths.

“Poe! I…I…oh fuck…oh gods…I…”

“Go on, baby. Cum.”

“You ha- ahhhh. But you…y-you…” You’re babbling. You’re incoherent, not wanting to leave him behind in the blinding ache that comes before release. Your hands are fisting in the flight suit below you, desperate for something solid, something substantial to hold onto.

“Don’t wait for me, Sweets. Let go.”

And then his hands are closing over yours, fingers interlacing and squeezing down, pinning you to the ground with white knuckles that would hurt if you weren’t squeezing him right back, finally grounded in the way you needed.

And you’re cumming.

And cumming.

You feel every muscle in your body seize and spasm and bliss roils out through you in waves. You shake and stutter under him, feeling fresh wetness gush down around his cock as he fucks you through the feeling. You keep waiting for it to stop but it doesn’t, it only intensifies. It must be a side effect. Of the drink not the man. But when you feel yourself transcending the moment, the way your soul feels like it is literally floating above you, you use the out of body experience to take in the man who is causing this pleasure. The way he cages you in, bracing you through the storm of your orgasm, giving more and more to keep the flame burning as long as possible.

His muscles ultimately seize sometime around when your soul seems to sink back into your body and you’re one again enough with your senses that you can feel him paint your walls with sticky, hot cum. He doesn’t drop his weight on you like other men have after the completion of such exertions. Other men who had focused more on the destination than the journey, leaving you as wanting for release as you were wanting for air under the pressure of their body weight. Instead, Poe pulls you of you and flops to his back in the grass beside you. Without him holding you up you crumble down, face pressing into the fabric of your rumpled flight suit instead of the dirt, thanks to Poe.

A few minutes pass, silent except for the sound of your slowing gasps for air. When your breathing evens Poe sits up on his haunches to guide you back into your flight suit. You’re sticky from sweat and your combined cum, but you couldn’t care less with your bones liquified and your eyelids heavy. Gone is the buzzing ache, in its place a heavy sleepiness. When Poe lays you, now clothed, gingerly back down on the ground you automatically curl into him, allowing him to wrap his arms around your body.

Neither of you shares another word. You don’t have to.

Because shortly after you doze off. And for the first time in a long time your final thoughts before sleep overtakes you are not of the dread the morning will bring, but the solace you found in the night.

~*~

When you wake it’s to a dawn as grey as all the ones before it. Hazy with receding fog and with the promise of all the danger that looms ahead in the hours soon to follow. One of the planet’s suns has already breached the horizon, and you raise a hand to cover your eyes as you peer out from under the x-wing’s protective wing. Looking down you take stock.

Your flight suit is on but fully unzipped, leaving your chest and stomach entirely exposed, all the way down to your lower belly. A large hand covers one of your breasts, fingers twitching against your flesh as the man attached to it continues to dream. You follow the length of his arm to take in his body, tucked close into your own, equally unzipped, his broad torso showing through the gaping fabric. You watch Poe’s abdominal muscles contract with his inhales and exhales for a moment while you check in with your body.

The humming from last night is gone, that much is for certain. This makes you believe that the effects of the drink have worn off. You’re quick to question this hypothesis, however, when Poe stirs in his sleep and his hand squeezes down a bit on your breast. Your breath catches in your throat and fire shoots through your veins. A lingering symptom, you wonder. Or perhaps just a normal, biological reaction to sexual stimuli. You kick yourself mentally because of course it has to be the latter. It couldn’t be the third option which you won’t even allow yourself to fully consider.  

You require a shower urgently, it occurs to you suddenly. And food, a realization that coincides with a rumbling in your empty stomach. Knowing you’ll never have a good enough excuse to extricate yourself from this gorgeous man’s arms you steel your nerves and pull away. When you stand, Poe groans and allows an eye to crack open, his hand flying up to shield his eyes from the rising sun. You’re silhouetted against the dawn and he takes in your outline. The curves of you.

“Morning, Sweets,” he says, voice hoarse with sleep this time instead of sex.

“Morning, Fly Boy,” you reply simply with a small smile. You feel a buzzing in the pocket of your suit then and pull out your mini com unit, even more portable than your usual data pad. The message that blares across the screen and you relay it before Poe can reach his own device which had similarly vibrated.

“We’ve got a new mission. Briefing is in an hour and then we take off.” The information feels stilted as it leaves your lips. How can you feel so entirely, earth-shatteringly changed and yet in many ways everything is still the same. The sun still came up. The war still rages on.

You look down at Poe and his intense expression as he watches you makes you think that he’s wondering the same thing.

Your heart thumps in your chest, this time unaided by any drugged drink or the eyes or hands of a man whose existence seemed both your making and undoing. Routine is the only thing that can calm these nerves. Routine is what is required to survive war. Routine and protocol and boundaries.

You zip up your flight suit with finality.

“See you at the briefing?” you ask, though its more statement than question.

“Of course.” Poe’s response is quiet as he continues to watch you from his reclining position. You’re still above him and at a distance, a position he often associates with you.

You smile and give him a good natured salute before turning and making you way back toward the town where you know the rest of the Resistance members are already bustling about and preparing for the day.

Another day you hope you, and Poe, will be lucky enough to outlive.

~*~

Doing a smaller taglist since it’s a Poe fic and I’m not sure if everyone on my usual taglist is into it (Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed for future work!): @paper-n-ashes @mariesackler @tlcwrites @foxilayde @mylifeisactuallyamess @sacklerscumrag @jynzandtonic @millenialcatlady @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @hopeamarsu @direnightshade @leather-flannel-liquor @fizzywoohoo @aliveandlonely @wayward-rose @safarigirlsp @emeraldsiren20 @finn-ray-nal-beads @maryforyou @maybe-your-left

[sugawara-sweetheart]

𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 (𝔪)

(n.) to be cleared from censure or doubt, by means of demonstration

RA!oikawa x reader | 25/08 

Warnings: face fucking, orgasm denial, spitting, masturbation, degradation

word count: 5.2k

part 1/12 of aphrodisia series

college is supposed to be the best three years of your life.

and it usually is. you’ve built so many memories here in the quaint campus town you’ve spent the past year living in. there’s the parties that stretch till the orange sun rises between pink morning clouds, music pounding in your ears and your body buzzing in drunken delight. there’s the amazing friends you’ve made with long, lasting connections that you can feel that strong emotional tie that bonds you together for life. there’s the coffee shop study dates, the night time adventures in the forests of thickly-knitted trees, your sight a whirlwind of bright, psychedelic colours and the satisfying warmth of passing a class and being one step closer to achieving your dream.

but good comes with bad. there’s times when you’ve been so hungry and scraped the ends of your purse, only to come up with enough pennies for a small packet of ramen to last you the night. there’s the overwhelming academic stress, assignments piling on assignments and marks scrawled on the front in angry red all looming over you like a heavy, grey cloud. and finally, the last of your problems came in the form of oikawa tōru.

you wouldn’t say devils belonged on earth but oikawa tōru was most certainly a demon from the fiery pits of hell- or rather RA hell. you often found yourself questioning what you did to the universe in your past life that was so bad that oikawa happened to be the resident advisor for your floor. he was likeable to everyone else, of course he was. he was handsome and tall and athletic, face chiselled and his big eyes a warm shade of brown, lips often tugged in a smirk that had girls swooning for him- and you knew that because your friends always insisted on hanging out in your dorm room, giggling as they caught a glimpse of oikawa as they passed by. but oikawa’s eyes would burn into you. you’d always feel them, raking over you when you’re leaving your dorm room in a tight dress for a night-out with friends. you’d feel them piercing into you when you’re at the campus starbucks and you always grimace when you’d see oikawa’s horribly sweet smile, sweeter than the pure syrupy frappucino he buys. you always hate how he wiggles his fingers at you, eyes crinkling with a grin you know is laced with so much cold hostility. 

“y/n-chan, it doesn’t hurt to smile!” he sings at you whilst you curse him under your breath. but the worst thing about oikawa is that he has it out for you. he’s a predatory snake, slithering around for a chance to bite and whenever he can, he will. 

this is where you are now. you stand in the centre of your room, arms folded tightly across your chest as you watch oikawa stalk around your space. you can tell he’s scrutinising your dorm room so carefully, peeling away as many layers of you as he can as his brown eyes gleam, narrowing at the photographs and postcards on your walls, smiling at the books scattered around, the pile of clothes on the floor. but he’s searching for more- maybe a candle amongst your beauty products and toiletries, maybe a corner of plastic carrying that white powder or green clumps sticking out from underneath your dresser, any pet fur or holes in the wall.

you’re trying to keep stoic, keeping your eyes fixated on oikawa as he spends his time peering into your bedroom but there’s still panic rising in you. you’re sure everything is in place- you brushed away all the cat fur off your bed from last week when you nursed a weak stray kitten back to health and your sealed packets of weed are hidden away in your sock drawer. there’s no way oikawa will find anything, even if he wants to. that nauseating panic dissipates as you see the sourness on oikawa’s face, his shoulders slouching as he turns to leave. 

“bye now, oikawa. don’t come again.” you smile, chuckling at his scowl when suddenly he stops. you freeze as you notice that bright gleam in his eyes and the smile that stretches across. it’s the same look when he delivers a particularly hard serve in a volleyball match. it’s the look of winning.

“not so fast. what have we here, y/n-chan?” you stop breathing as oikawa strides across the length of your room to your wardrobe, his hand snaking into the slightly ajar door where he pulls out a can of gin and tonic, grinning proudly like he’d won a trophy. you swallow hard, a thick lump rising in your throat. 

“that’s not mine.” oikawa frowns mockingly, feigning a look of confusion.

“oh really, y/n-chan?” 

“yes.”

“so someone just broke into your room and decided to put a full can of gin and tonic in your wardrobe?” you wish it could’ve been a beer bottle, then maybe you could distract him and smash it over his big, annoying head. but you can’t so you grit your teeth, hands curling into fists. 

“yes. i don’t know-”

oikawa cuts you off with his high, sardonic laugh that makes you growl quietly. 

“come on, y/n-chan,” he looks so smug, making that hot anger tingle in you. “we both know this is yours. and it’s against the college rules and not to mention, illegal.” he sighs heavily, shaking his head slowly with little tuts. “it looks like i’m going to have to write you up.” 

“oikawa…” you hiss warningly but he looks so utterly gleeful.  

“you’ve had quite a bad streak already, haven’t you? what’s this now- the third offence?” you clench your jaw, the vein in your temple throbbing as you recall the two other times oikawa had written you up- once for a stupid candle you promised was just for decoration and the other for playing loud music just that one time. but this was much worse, a criminal offence and you remember how severe the dean had been the last time, how he told you if you kept making trouble, perhaps it’d be wise for you to find somewhere else to live. 

you feel sick. your stomach churns and your hands tremble as you clasp them to your tight chest, trying not to feel nauseous. 

“don’t write me up.” you say, hating the way your voice shakes. oikawa pouts and cocks his head at you, but he’s so insufferable, so mocking as he taunts you.

“it’s my job, y/n-chan. and some of us follow the rules.” he exhales heavily, shrugging but the corners of his lips are still twitching with a smile. “oh my, it really doesn’t look good for you right now. maybe you need to call up a realtor or check out some ads-”

“hey, don’t be so hasty.”  you say, forcing a smile as you step closer to him. he regards you with interest, smiling further at your next words. “i’m sure we can settle this ourselves.” 

“is that so?” oikawa smiles so widely, tossing the can into your bin carelessly. “well, what do you have to offer me?” 

you hesitate. you’re the average college student and you’re broke, offering money would be a joke. you were both majoring in two vastly different courses, you couldn’t do his assignments for him either. free drugs? no, that’d be digging yourself into a deeper hole. you needed something quick, something easy but valuable- a one time thing.

you’re horribly aware of the way oikawa’s studying you, leaning against your wall so casually with a smirk and his hands on his hips. he looks so triumphant, so amused and you hate it. but you know how else he looks at you. you’ve seen how his eyes always darken, how they slowly rake over your body, taking in your curves and bare skin when you’re going out to a party. you’ve heard the way his breath hitches in his throat when you leave your shower cubicle in the morning just as he comes in from practise, your skin steaming and hair dripping wet droplets down the bit of cleavage that your fluffy bathrobe exposes. you know that despite the petty ways you and oikawa spite each other, he’s still attracted to you and…

what are you thinking?

you clench your eyes shut, rubbing at them as you try to comprehend the situation. it’s oikawa- the stupid, irritating, hellish RA or...it’s an eviction. it’s getting kicked out of convenient, comfortable college accommodation and having to find somewhere else to live in the middle of the academic year. not unless you did this. sure, oikawa was an insufferable man and you wanted nothing more than to make him choke on milk bread but you’d been with worse. 

“i don’t have all evening, y/n-chan.” oikawa sighs, dismissively glancing at his nails. “so if you don’t have anything to offer, i’ll just write you up and be on my merry-” he chokes, spluttering as he springs up to his full height, eyes widening at your actions. “y/n-chan! what are you doing?” 

you ignore the way the heat rises to your cheeks as you slowly unbutton your shirt, resisting the urge to shiver when the cool air meets your skin. oikawa’s scandalised, but he’s falling into the trap, his eyes looking so needy the way they follow your fingers, drinking in the view of your beautiful body. 

“this is what i’m offering.” you say firmly even though your fingers tremble and your heart pounds against your chest. “come on,” you urge with a teasing smirk. “i’ve seen the way you look at me, tōru.” the way you drawl his name is the last step and oikawa completely falls into your trap. he steps forward quickly, his eyes fixated on your chest before they flicker up to meet your eyes and suddenly he’s leaning in. 

“woah!” you cry, causing him to frown with confusion. “what the hell do you think you’re doing?” 

“i’m obviously trying to kiss you- or do you always start off a fuck with a handshake?” oikawa looks amused, cheekily grinning as you growl. you don’t even reply as you grab him by the brown, silky strands of his hair and pull him into you.

the kiss is messy. and needy. teeth clashing together as you and oikawa kiss each other hungrily, small, little, breathy gasps escaping him as you slide your tongue between his lips. he tastes of mint and you hate to admit it but he’s a good kisser, almost eliciting soft moans from you as he peels off your unbuttoned shirt. he pulls you closer to him, one hand wrapping around your bare waist and the other snaking into your hair, tugging gently to peel your lips away from his. you feel dizzy and breathless as oikawa starts to trail open mouthed kisses along the column of your neck, making you shiver and gasp as he sucks in the delicate skin. 

“don’t leave marks.” you hiss, pushing him away with a rough hand at his forehead, making him laugh. 

“y/n-chan,” he teases, trailing a finger along your collarbone just to make you squirm. “let me just remind you that if you don’t want to do this, i can just write you up instead. would you like me to do that?” he’s vicious. he plays ugly and he knows that because he looks so pleased whilst you just exhale heavily, brow furrowed with anger. 

“no.” he beams.

“good girl. now take off your bra.” you smirk as you reach behind, unclasping the lacy garment but not without shooting a remark.

“do you even know how to take off a bra?” 

oikawa scowls but his retort dies on his tongue when you slide off your bra, revealing your bare chest to him. he’s silent, eyes carefully taking in your curves, the way your nipples pebble in the cool air before he steps close to you. 

“so you can look pretty.” he teases, placing his large, calloused hands over your tits, drawing out a small gasp from you at the coldness. 

“don’t act like you’ve not been staring at me for months like a dirty, little per-” you break off when he pinches your nipple, his face contorted in an angry scowl as you hiss through gritted teeth. his other hand moves up to your shoulder and with a strong force and fingernails digging into your skin, he pulls you forward.

“you know, this is supposed to be payment for me and it’s not that enjoyable when you keep speaking so either shut up or i’ll make you.” the hand on your shoulder is heavy as it pushes you down, making you groan as your knees bump against the carpeted floor. you look up at oikawa, grimacing at his leering smile before your eyes trail down, meeting the outline of his hard cock straining against his white sweatpants. you almost want to laugh.

“god, you really are disgusting, aren’t you, oikawa?” his face flushes with indignation and as you laugh, he pulls down his sweatpants and briefs. as his cock springs up, hard and twitching against his clothed stomach, you fall silent and it’s oikawa’s turn to sneer. he wasn’t the biggest, probably ranging around average but his cock had to be the prettiest, his public hair neatly trimmed and the tip red and leaking beads of precum. oikawa watches you carefully, biting his bottom lip as he wraps his hand around his length, stroking it slowly with soft pants rolling from his lips.

“you’re really annoying, y/n-chan.” he says, reaching out for your head with his spare hand. you wince as his nails scrape along your scalp, fisting your hair tightly before he’s bringing his cock to your face, smiling crudely as he taps the leaking head against your lips. “so it’ll be nice to shut you up for a bit.” 

as you open your mouth to spit back a nasty remark, oikawa’s hips snap forward and his thick cock pushes between your lips, making you moan at the feeling of your mouth being so stuffed. oikawa groans, the grip on your head tightening and making the pain burn, tears stinging in your eyes. but you know why you’re doing this. you curse oikawa in your head as you slide your tongue along the underside of his cock, along the thick prominent vein that has the fiendish man choking on a throaty moan, and as he yanks your head back, you’re quick to swirl your wet muscle around the sensitive tip. 

“fuck- look at you.” oikawa chuckles, his voice deeper with lust. “you look like such a slut with your pretty lips wrapped around my cock.” you frown, feeling that flicker of anger as you prepare to remove your mouth but he’s too quick. he grips your hair so tight, you can’t help but cry out, muffled by his weighty dick in your mouth and suddenly oikawa’s hissing as his hips snap forward, sheathing most of his cock in your mouth. “don’t be rude to me, pretty girl. remember why you’re doing this.” that’s the last he says before he’s fucking your mouth, pushing his length into your mouth till the tip snaps against the back of your throat, making you gag at the sudden shock. oikawa’s lost in pleasure though, thrusting in and out of your mouth quickly with his head thrown back and strings of moans and slurred swears rolling from his lips. you force your throat to relax, breathing heavily through your nose as you let oikawa use your mouth, ignoring the way the weight of his cock on your tongue aches your jaw. it’s degrading too, humiliating as he fucks you like a doll, balls slapping against your chin and you look like such a mess, saliva and precum dripping down your chin, onto your chest with tears streaming from your eyes. oikawa suddenly pulls out from you, pushing your hair away from your face as you cough up the saliva, letting it all drool down your face as you gasp for breath, clutching at your throat.

“you okay?” oikawa doesn’t look the least bit concerned as he pumps his cock, your saliva glistening off his skin and wet, smacking sounds filling your room as you glare at him through your teary eyes.

“you don’t think you could’ve warned me before you fucked my face, dumbass?” you hiss, your voice hoarse after oikawa’s cock abusing the back of your throat. he simply beams, eyes rolling lazily to the back of his head as he continues to stroke his dick.

“consider it a surprise, y/n-chan. come on, let’s go again and you’ll be a step closer to clearing your offence.” you glower at oikawa, nudging yourself closer to him and opening your mouth obediently for him to thrust back in.

he’s needier this time, both hands gripping your head in place as his hips snap forward fast and abruptly and moans bordering on consistent, loud, desperate whines, something close to a sob. but you don’t even think you’ll be able to tease him, not when he keeps fucking your mouth so hard and all you can do is focus on breathing, not choking on his thick cock. your eyes tear up with every hard thrust against the back of your throat and you try your best to swallow, to pull out more of those desperate whimpers from oikawa whilst spit just trickles down from the corners of your lips. 

“you’re so much better when you’re quiet and with my cock down your throat.” oikawa chuckles, smiling at you with heavy-lidded eyes as he removes one of his hands to stroke your dick-hollowed cheeks. then the hand on the back of your head pushes you further, forcing you to take more of oikawa’s dick into your mouth before the tip is nestled in the back of your throat. you gag and choke around it, drool spewing from your lips so messily and tears leaking from your clenched eyes. but oikawa’s moaning and you hate to admit how pretty he sounds, even when blood pounds in your ears and his cock is so deep into the back of your throat. “i’m tempted to cum right down your pretty little throat.” oikawa sneers and your eyes suddenly widen, convinced he’s ready to release right then and there but he finally pulls away, panting as you gasp for breath once again. 

“you’re not always so bad, y/n-chan.” oikawa says as he pulls you up from your knees. you scoff, wiping away the saliva from your chin with a scowl on your face.

“you’re always bad, tōru-chan.” oikawa doesn’t say anything at the way you mock him, instead opting to push you onto your bed. you glare at him as he tugs off his t-shirt and sweatpants, leaving himself completely revealed. you hate to admit how nice his lean, athletic body is, his milky skin and the muscles of his chest and legs attractive. but you don’t get much chance to admire much more before he pulls downs your shorts, leaving you in just your panties before he’s settling between your legs. 

“i don’t think i’m so bad when i’m letting you redeem yourself.” he sneers. “unless of course, you’d be willing to be evicted- ow, y/n-chan.” oikawa winces when you tug at his hair harshly but his eyes darken and suddenly he stands up and shoves your shoulders, pushing you onto the bed. he hisses as he flips you over, making you lie on your stomach before he tugs at your ankles, making you kneel before he presses himself up against you. 

“you know, y/n-chan, i was going to be nice and prepare you beforehand but you’re just being so rude to me.” he says, little breathy pants escaping him as he grinds his hard cock against your clothed core. “besides, i don’t even think i need to. you’re so wet and i haven’t even touched you yet.” he was laughing at you, his voice irritable and sardonic. you only growl into the bedsheets, hating the way oikawa was right as he kneels back, admiring the wet patch on your pretty panties. “how pathetic of you, y/n-chan. did you really enjoy me fucking your face that much?” 

“shut up, crappykawa.” you hiss but you can’t help the little moan that escapes you when he presses his fingertips against the soaked patch, the little stimulation against your soaked folds enough to have you whining and pushing up against oikawa for more. he cackles, an actual taunting cackle.

“fuck, you’re such a needy, desperate slut, y/n-chan.” oikawa coos, pressing against your back and bringing his face close to yours. his hot breath lingered over you, making you shiver as his teeth scraped your ear lobe, big, calloused hands reaching to palm your tits. “you’re begging to be fucked, pretty girl. you’re whoring yourself out-” oikawa cuts off when you snap around to glare at him, exhaling vehemently and your voice a vicious snarl. 

“i swear to god, oikawa tōru, if you don’t just get on with it, i’ll-” 

oikawa yanks down your panties roughly, the cold air immediately hitting your soaked folds and making you moan softly. you’re desperate, cunt throbbing and you’re biting back gasps as his rough fingertips stroke your pretty cunt before he’s trailing them along to your clit. oikawa’s breath hitches as he rubs, hearing a little moan pull from your lips before he’s removing his fingers and you can feel him stroking his cock. 

“so wet- is this all for me, y/n-chan?”

“well it’s not exactly like it’s for my sleep paralysis demon standing in the corner of my- the fuck?!” you hear oikawa chuckle mirthlessly and then a cold, wet globule lands on your folds, making you shriek as you feel the head of his cock prod at your pussy.

“did you just fucking spit on me?!” you yell, turning your head to face oikawa. he looks so gleeful, smiling so wide at you.

“that’s right. here we go now, y/n-chan.” you gasp, choking out into the bedsheets as oikawa pushes his cock into you. the stretch is deliciously painful, the burn laced with so much pleasure as he sheaths his cock inside you. he moans loudly as your walls clench around him, letting the veins of his thick length drag against your velvet walls till he bottoms out, gasping and gripping your hips tightly as his hips press against your ass. 

“be a good slut and just shut the fuck up for once.” oikawa hisses, groaning with the stimulation. you scoff, a snarl hot on your tongue as your head lifts but oikawa’s too quick; he growls as his fingers grip your hair, pulling harshly at your head to push it back into the bedsheets. you groan, muffled by the harsh way he presses your head into the comforter. “there we go, much better.” 

then he’s slamming into you. it’s relentless, thrusts fast and forceful, the whole bed shaking as oikawa fucks you hard and fast. the pleasure surges through you, so bittersweet as its entwined with the pain of the tip of his cock nudging your cervix and the burning of him fisting your hair so tight. you can barely even breathe, choked moans and sobs collecting in your comforter but oikawa doesn’t care. wanton moans escape him as he fucks you, the room filled with the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin, that sinful squelching.

it’s clear that oikawa isn’t focused on you, not with the way one of his hands grips your hip so tightly you’re sure there’ll be bruises, and the way the other forces your head down. this is just about him, his pleasure, his payment, his sordid bribe.

“so tight, y/n-chan.” oikawa teases, punctuating his words with harder thrusts that has him exhaling. “don’t you get some?” you want to snap back a reply but you can’t, your attempts at words just incoherent vowels choked with moans. it feels good, his cock sending shivers of pleasure into you every time he slams his hips into your ass but it’s not enough. you’re hissing with the frustration, your wet pussy squeezing tightly around oikawa’s length, throbbing as you need more. “so desperate, so needy.” he continues. “you’re clenching around me so tight. i didn’t know you wanted me that bad, y/n-chan.”

“fucking idiot.” you curse out into the bedsheets but oikawa takes your muffled mumbles as a chance to push your head deeper, making your back arch more and the new angle has him thrusting deeper, making the two of you moan loudly. but it’s still not good enough and without any stimulation at your clit, you won’t cum. but clearly oikawa doesn’t know- or maybe he doesn’t care with the way he fucks you solely for his pleasure. you move one of your hands between your legs, your body almost toppling but it’s worth it to rub at your clit, letting warm pleasure fill you. but it’s short-lived because with a large crack, burning pain sears through your ass cheek. 

“did i say you could touch yourself?” oikawa growls. “it’s like you want to be written up.” you want to sob, so desperate for enough pleasure to b able to release all over his cock as he continues to fuck you. oikawa thrusts faster and sloppier, chasing his own high with loud, whiny moans rolling from his lips, the harsh grip on your head tightening. 

“fuck, fuck, fuck-” oikawa gasps as his cock twitches and seconds later, he pulls out, moaning over your desperate whines before he cums, three hot spurts of cum landing on your back. 

“oikawa, you fucking prick!” you shriek, kneeling up to face him as the cum clings to your skin. “you just came on me- without even getting me off!” it angers you more to see oikawa look so relaxed, a dazed smile lingering on his face from the aftermath of his climax as he pants, his cock already softening. “oi, shittykawa!”

“well, at least i didn’t cum in you.” he merely smiles with a shrug before he stands up, getting your tissue box. you glare at him, scoffing when he pushes you onto your stomach and wipes the cum off your skin. 

“yeah but i’ve not fucking cum at all!”

you’re whining with desperation, your throbbing cunt so wet with your slick running down your thighs as you clench around nothing, almost grinding into your mattress. 

“are you really this useless, shittykawa? i’m going to have to make myself cum because your stupid, good-for-nothing cock can’t do a job right?” you want the vicious snarls to make oikawa’s face fall but he only seems amused as he sits at the end of your bed, leaning back on his palms with a lazy smile on his face. 

“well, i wouldn’t be opposed to that.” 

you scowl as you sit up, turning to face him as you spread your legs, letting him see your pretty pussy glistening with your slick. you shudder, sighing as you begin to rub your clit, slowly building up the pace and not removing your eyes from oikawa’s hungry gaze. 

“you’re so fucking useless.” you snap, gasping as the pleasure begins to build. it tastes so sweet, so satisfying as you dip your fingers below, sliding them through your slick folds. you’re so sensitive, so needy you can’t help but gasp and jerk at the gentle touch, eyes fluttering shut and a low moan escaping you as you slide one finger in, your whole body slumping against your headboard. it feels so good, pure, warm pleasure rushing through your veins as you pump your finger in and out of your squelching pussy, your walls so sensitive as you brush them. “fuck, my fingers do a better job than you.” oikawa smiles, tilting his head as he tears his brown eyes away from the way your pussy clenches around your finger to meet your eyes. 

“really? so what, you think you can make yourself cum on your fingers?” you laugh, your chuckles mixed with gasps of pleasure as you begin to pump faster, inching your second finger towards your hole whilst your thumb rubs at your clit. 

“of course i can- it’s you that can’t make a girl cum.” you’re panting now, pumping two fingers in and out of your cunt fast and hard before moving your other hand to your mouth to slide your tongue over the pads of your fingers. oikawa’s eyes widen as he watches you rub the wet fingertips over your hardened nipple, a whine pulling from your lips as you buck your hips with need. “this is how you pleasure a girl, you dumb fuck. you can’t even make me feel half this good!” you choke out more moans as you slide in your third finger, the stretch burning slightly but you’re so close as you bite your bottom lip. your legs quiver as you enjoy the way oikawa looks so drunk and needy watching you fuck yourself on your own wet fingers. “your cock could never reach this far.” you hiss with venom. the coil in your stomach is so tight, so ready to snap, just a bit more…

“do you even know where the clit is or are you just pure stupid?”

you’re laughing through your pants of pleasure as oikawa’s face flushes and he scowls with indignation. 

“hey!” his humiliation was the final push over the edge and as you curl your fingers deep in your pussy, that coil snaps. you moan, back arching and vision going white as pure pleasures explodes through you, making you jerk and shake as you ride out your orgasm on your own fingers. you can feel oikawa’s hungry stare on you, his eyes widened as he drinks in every moment of your orgasm. 

you pant as you remove your fingers, grimacing at the way they’re coated with your release. you’re about to reach for a tissue but stop, noticing the way oikawa’s staring at the glistening slick on your fingers. he’s needy. 

“what, you wanna suck on my fingers? clean up all my cum?” you laugh as oikawa’s face reddens but he doesn’t refuse when you crawl towards him and kneel over him, smiling as you push your fingers into his mouth. oikawa’s brown eyes are fixated on yours, the hunger in him so evident as he sucks around your fingers, moaning at the taste of your release. you scoff as his tongue flicks at your fingertips, shaking your head at the insufferable man. “fuck, you’re so disgusting. dirty, pathetic boy.” oikawa slips his mouth off your fingers with a wet pop, scowling at you.

“you’re so mean, y/n-chan.” he whines yet there’s a hint of a playful tone apparent. “i’ve got half a mind to actually write you up, maybe also include how rude you’ve been to your poor RA.” he starts as you throw him his t-shirt, your eyes cold and angry.

“don’t fucking try it, shittykawa. now get out before i make you choke.” 

oikawa sighs and laughs as he pulls on his clothes swiftly, picking up his trainers at the door as he ruffles his messy brown hair. 

“let’s leave that for the next time you’re about to get written- sorry, sorry, i’m going!” the door slams shut as oikawa narrowly misses the hairbrush that you send whirling across the room. 

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[love-and-monsters]

Faebruary: Fake Dating

M Faerie X F human, 7,922 words

You guys remember this post? Well, here’s the story it was based on. A human gets lost in the Faerie world, and her only hope of getting back home safe is agreeing to go on a date with one smug Faerie boy. Hope you enjoy!

Admittedly, this was probably something you should have seen coming when you stepped into a fairy ring.

It was stupid. Everyone said you weren’t supposed to step inside the little circles of mushrooms that sprouted up all over the hills. But it was just stupid. Fairies weren’t real. So when there had been a circle of mushrooms across your path, you had just walked toward it.

The instant your foot crossed the line, there was a sickening spinning feeling in your stomach. Your foot plunged down like you’d missed a step in the dark and you fell into a swirling sea of mist.

You came to spitting out leaves, though you couldn’t remember hitting the ground. It was as if the ground had materialized against your face. Slowly, you staggered upright.

There was no longer sunlight. The forest was full of mist. And the trees seemed much more closely clustered than they had before. Their bark was darker, their branches more gnarled and reaching.

It was deathly silent. You wrapped your jacket closer around yourself. “Hello?” you called. Your voice died a foot from your throat. It was like the mist absorbed the sound.

Several feet in front of you, a pale blue light blinked into being.

“Hey!” you called. “I’m over here!” The blue light winked and bobbed, then began to shrink into the distance. You plunged through the foliage after it.

No matter how fast you ran, the light seemed to be permanently ahead of you. It sped up as you went onward until you were flat-out sprinting to keep up.

“I wouldn’t follow the light if I were you.”

You skidded to a stop, feet skidding on the damp leaves. The voice had come from somewhere above you. Squinting in the dim light, you could make out a figure crouching in the tree branches. Lightning fast, the figure leaped, vanishing into the mists.

“Fuck!” you swore, looking around. The figure was gone. It had moved so fast you hadn’t even been able to see where it had gone. Frantic, you looked for the blue light. Had it gotten away while you were looking at the figure?

“You’re not going to lose the light.” The voice came from behind and above you this time. You whipped toward it. The figure was pointing into the distance. Following the finger, you could see the gentle gleam of blue light bobbing there, like it was waiting.

An unsettled crawling feeling moved up your spine. “How did you know it was going t be there?”

Details of the figure were impossible to make out in the dim lighting, but you could hear that he was grinning. “Because will-O-the-wisps are nothing if not predictable.”

He punctuated his sentence by leaping from the tree and coming to a crouched landing in front of you.

You stared. What had landed in front of you was not human. He looked vaguely human, even handsome, by some definitions. A strong, though narrow, jaw, sharp nose, black hair that was teased back into a carefully disheveled style. But he was dressed in odd clothes, the sort of thing you’d expect from an old English court, and he had a tail. A long, thin tail that weaved and twisted behind him like it was caught in a current. And he had antlers, small, but pronounced antlers.

“I forgot,” he said. “Mortals are so often stunned into silence when they see the natural splendor of the Fair Folk.”

That made you find your tongue. “What are you?”

His smirk vanished. “There was a time when mortals were rightfully respectful of us. If you had half a head of sense, you would be on your knees, begging for mercy.”

There was a pause, as if he was waiting for you to do so. You didn’t, though you kept your mouth cautiously shut. He snorted. “I’m a Fae. One of the Fair Folk. And you, little mortal, are utterly trapped in the Faerie lands.”

“Trapped?” you repeated. An icy cold stone dropped into your stomach.

The Faerie grinned. “Now you see the truth of your situation. Yes. You’re trapped. Unless you convince a Faerie to let you go, you’ll be trapped in this land for all eternity.” He swept closer to you. “And this place is not safe for lone mortals. There are things here that would make you wish the will-O-the-wisp would have dragged you down into its bog and stripped the meat from your bones.”

You couldn’t repress a shudder. The Fae noticed and his smile grew wider. “I assume you’re telling me this for a reason,” you said, keeping your eyes on him.

“Me?” he said, pressing a hand to his chest, the picture of faux-innocence. “I want to show you the way out. You do want to go home, do you?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Uh huh. And I’m assuming you want something in return.”

His lips curled. “Figures the one thing humans wouldn’t forget about a Faerie is that we like even trades. It would make things so much easier.” He ruffled his fingers through his hair, carefully avoiding his antlers. “Yes. If you would like me to guide you out of the Faerie world, then I will need something in return.”

He didn’t continue. You narrowed your eyes at him. “And what is that?”

He huffed out a sigh. “Not going to write me a blank check, hm? Fine. If I am going to lead you out of here, I need you to agree to attend a Faerie party with me.”

That threw you for a loop. “You want me to what?”

“Attend a party with me,” he said, grinning at your confusion.

“That’s it?” you asked. He nodded.

“One night, twelve hours, at a party with me,” he said. “All I need is for you to attend as my date.”

That seemed far too good to be true. “Is this a trick? Some kind of way to trap me or humiliate me or otherwise coerce me into staying?”

The Faerie rolled his eyes. “Are all humans so suspicious? No. I just need a date.”

“Why don’t you pick a Faerie, then?” you asked.

“Because I think you would piss of my parents the most,” he said.

You lifted one of your eyebrows. “Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?”

 He waved a hand. “Neither. I just need a mortal. That would completely ruin their night.”

There was genuine venom in his voice when he said it. You stared at him, struck dumb. How old was he? You mentally reassessed him. His age was sort of difficult to determine. There was an unearthly beauty to him, no sign of the sort of little imperfections that come around with age. But if you looked really closely, studied the lines of his face, he looked like someone barely out of his teenage years. Maybe nineteen, or at least the Faerie equivalent. You held back a snort. At least maturity wise, you were probably around two years older than he was.

The Faerie drew himself up haughtily, apparently taking your silence as some sort of agreement. “You must state your agreement out loud. It will be a Faerie agreement, so there will be no going back on your deal.” He smiled unpleasantly. “Backing out of a Faerie deal is not a good idea, especially for a fragile mortal.”

You eyed him cautiously. There was still a chance he was trying to trick you or coerce you or trying to do something else of the sort. But, given how young he seemed, you were somewhat less inclined to suspicion. The longer you spent with him, the more affected his persona seemed. It was the posturing of someone who had just been given their first taste of power and was still unsure how to properly use it.

“All right,” you said. “How do we make an agreement?”

The Faerie smiled smugly and extended a hand. Several of his fingers were clad with large, heavy rings, inset with black gems. All of them bore a triangular symbol. “Take my hand.” He said it like it was some sort of great favor to you. You did so. His fingers felt oddly sharp under his skin, slender and bony. “Now. The stipulations of this deal are that I will return you to the human world, to your home. In exchange for this, you will attend a dance with me as my date. You will be my date for twelve hours, over one night. Once the night is over, I will return you home again.”

“I have stipulations,” you said, forcing your voice to be confident. He lifted an eyebrow, but allowed your to continue. “While I am your guest, you will not conspire against me in any way. You will not allow me to come to any harm, nor will you attempt to trap me here once more. If I am harmed in any way, the deal is null and void and you will return me home immediately.”

The Faerie wrinkled his nose. “I would not allow my date to be harmed. Even if you are a mortal, the rules of hospitality still apply to you.”

“And you won’t allow me to unknowingly do anything that could harm me,” you added. The Faerie gave you a sarcastic look.

“Are you finished?” he drawled. You hesitated, trying to wrack your brain for anything else you might need. Nothing came immediately to mind.

“Yes. I’m finished,” you said, however suspiciously. The Faerie grinned.

“Then the deal is struck.” His voice seemed to boom through the forest. A tingling sensation ran across the back of your hand, then it sharpened into a piercing sting, like an insect was biting the back of your hand. You yelped, but the Faerie held onto your hand firmly.

The sting faded and the Faerie released your fingers. You shook your hand, trying to get the blood to flow through it again. On the back of your hand, imprinted as neatly on your skin as a tattoo, was a black marking. It was a circle, emblazoned with some kind of angular sigil.

 “It marks our bargain,” the Faerie said, showing you his own hand. He was similarly marked, though his brand was bright purple. “Should either of us break it, the mark will sink into our skin, and we shall endure some sort of tragedy.” He smiled, all needle-sharp teeth and cruelty. “So be certain that you do not break it.”

“I won’t,” you said, voice flinty. The Faerie looked amused by your anger.

“Then I shall fulfill my bargain first,” he said. He held out his arm to you, as if he was escorting you to a party rather than freeing you from an alien realm. “Shall we go?”

You hesitated, but he had made a promise. And you had also heard that Faeries couldn’t lie. You took a deep breath and linked your arm through his. “Yes.”

The Faerie took a step forward and the ground tilted under your feet. The mist billowed out obscuring your vision. The only thing that seemed real was the Faerie next to you. Your grip on him tightened, despite yourself.

“Move,” the Faerie said into your ear. You took an uncertain step forward. The mist had covered the ground so thickly that it looked like you were walking on clouds. When you took a step forward, the ground seemed to spin under your feet, like you were covering more distance than you should have been. You felt dizzy, but the Faerie moved forward with uncompromising speed and pulled you along. Only a few steps later, the mist had disoriented you so much that you couldn’t tell where anything was. The world seemed to be spinning around you even when you weren’t moving. You needed to cling to the Faerie’s arm to stay on your feet.

Sunlight pierced through the trees and you squinted your eyes shut. The mist evaporated within seconds and you were standing once more in your familiar forest, blinking up into the bright light.

“And my part of the bargain has been fulfilled.” The Faerie looked no less alien and beautiful in the human world. He grinned at you. “Home again, exactly where you were taken.”

You were still clinging to his arm, you realized. Slowly, you unwound your fingers from his shirt and stepped away.

“I shall return for you on the night of the Winter Ball.”

“Which is when?” you asked.

“The full moon next. I shall find you proper garments.” He gave you a critical once over, indicating that he wasn’t optimistic about your chances of finding them yourself. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “We will meet again then.”

Mist rolled across your vision. When it melted away again, he was gone. You stared at the spot for a moment, then looked down at your hand. The marking was still there, as starkly black as it had been before. At least it was proof that you hadn’t made it up. With a final glance at the Faerie ring a few feet away, you turned and headed out of the forest.

The sun’s position told you that you should have arrived back a few hours after you left. Your arrival home informed you that was actually a day and a few hours since you’d left. Your mother left you with a lecture ringing in your ears, one that had only gotten more aggressive when she’d seen the marking on the back of your hand. No matter what you said, there was no way to convince her that you hadn’t gotten drunk, gotten a tattoo, and passed out in the woods somewhere. Admittedly, you were a little disheveled. Once you had freed yourself from her grasp, you slipped up to your room and checked your calendar.          

The next full moon was just over a week away. You marked it off on your calendar and took a deep breath. Right. Time to start prepping.

Your week was filled with pawing through old books and scouring the internet for every scrap of Faerie lore that you could find. By the time the full moon had rolled around, you had gathered as many supplies as you could find.

You were waiting in your room uncertainly when the full moon rose. The Faerie had told you he would find you, but did you need to be outside for it?

Before you could make any decisions on it, the moonlight filtering through your window thickened into a sheet of silver. It rippled and the Faerie stepped out of it like a doorway.

Unfairly, he looked even more handsome than he had when you’d met in the woods. He was dressed in silvery clothes, a flowing robe and cloak with a silvery ruff. His tail and ears were adorned with silver bangles, a choker pressed tight to his throat, and his horns were covered in silvery strands, like tinsel.

“You could have freshened up a little more,” he said, giving you a once-over. You gritted your teeth and one of your hands went to the little bag you had tied to your waist, hidden securely under your shirt. It was filled with salt and little pieces of iron. More iron and salt packets lined the inside of your clothes and you had strapped an iron knife to the inside of your thigh. A string of rowan berries was tied at your neck. With any fortune, those charms would be enough to drive off any cruel Faeries.

“I thought you were going to provide me with the garments you found appropriate,” you said in a clipped voice.

 “Only because mortals unilaterally lack taste,” he said. “There’s really only so much I can do.” He stepped back and gave a broad gesture toward the shaft of moonlight. “We only have an hour before the Ball starts. Hopefully that’s enough time to make you presentable.”

You drew yourself up and stepped through the portal of light. A chill rolled over your skin, like you had stepped through a cloud of mist.

One of your feet struck a tiled floor and you stopped. The moonlight faded into a tall, ice-white room with an arched ceiling and silvery lights decorating the walls. You paused to take in the décor and the Faerie walked into your back.

“Excuse me,” he snapped, glaring at you. You glared back. “Follow me. I have a dress picked out for you.”

He led you into a small room. A curtain divided it in half and there was a dress draped over a chair. It was gauzy and made of pale blues, silvers, and white. “Put it on. One of the servants will do your hair.”

“Servants?” you said, but he had already swept back out of the room. You sighed and picked up the dress. At least it wasn’t overly elaborate.

You slipped hurriedly into the dress. It was clearly simpler than his outfit, with far less adornment. Perhaps mortals weren’t allowed to wear as much finery as Faeries, or perhaps he just didn’t want you to outshine him. Either way, you were grateful for anything that made the outfit easier to wear.

The servants, as it turned out, were small, fluttering creatures that did your hair in a quick, simple style, a braid that was wound at the nape of your neck and secured with a silver pin. You caught a glance of yourself in a silver reflection. The dress emphasized your curves and complimented your skin tone. Your beauty wasn’t stunning, but it was simple and understated.

As soon as the servants departed, the Faerie was sweeping back into the room, cape swirling around his body. He looked you up and down. “Well, you can clean up nicely,” he said. You caught the way his eyes lingered on you. The faintest hint of a blush colored his cheeks, but then he was turning away. “Come. We need to hurry to arrive on time.”

You picked up your skirts and hurried down the hall after him. Thankfully the shimmering heels you wore were short, so it was not so difficult to walk in them. “I still don’t know your name,” you said as you caught up with him. His gaze shifted to yours suspiciously. Names were important to Faeries, you had read. Clearly, he was trying to determine if you knew that or if you were speaking in ignorance.

Finally, he spoke. “You may not have my name, but you may call me Elwain.” He tilted his head slightly toward you. “And yours?”

You told him, mimicking his wording. It was hard to tell if his expression was disappointed or not. He just strode out of the front door and onto the front steps.

Outside was all greenery, and pale, twinkling lights. Elwain led you down the steps and toward a skeletal white horse. You shivered when its pale eyes turned to you. Its mane and tail rippled and flickered like it was made of mist. There was an elegant saddle attached to its back and Elwain easily gripped the reins and pulled himself up onto its back. You hesitated, uncertain of how to climb on. You’d never ridden a horse before.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Elwain said. You glared at him. He merely rolled his eyes and extended a hand. You gripped it. His fingers were strong and steady against yours as he pulled you up into the saddle behind him. Your hands moved automatically to his waist. A flicker of something moved through your stomach before you quashed it.

The horse took off, hooves striking the ground with a sound like metal clanging. You lurched into Elwain’s back, fingers tightening at his waist. His breath caught for a moment, though you weren’t sure if it was actually your grip causing it.

The ride was swift and rocky. You were pressed awkwardly to Elwain’s back for most of it, leaning against him with every motion of the mount.

You were expecting to stop at another house, some sort of grand mansion like the one you’d left from. Instead, you stopped outside a grove of trees. They were covered in twinkling lights and noises of whooping celebration echoed through the air.

Elwain dismounted flawlessly. You twisted, attempting to copy his elegant motion. Your foot caught in the stirrup. With a stomach-flipping jolt, you stumbled.

A hand braced itself between your shoulder blades. The back of your head impacted a chest. You tilted your gaze backward. The upside-down face of Elwain stared back at you. “Mortals,” he sighed. “Hold onto me.” He shifted his position so you could get your arms around his neck. That fluttering feeling of attraction started in your chest again as he balanced you against his shoulder and reached down to undo your foot from its catch in the stirrup.

As soon as your leg was free, he lifted you up, carrying you away from the horse. “Are you all right?” he asked. You could feel his breath against your cheek. Your faces were right next to each other.

“I’m fine,” you said. There was a slight catch in your voice. A pink flush worked across Elwain’s face and he deposited you on the ground once more.

“Then we should go.” He looked at you for a moment, then sighed and reached out and fiddled with the choker at your neck. His fingers traced lightly over your skin. Your breath caught.

“There. Better,” he said, drawing himself up. “Take my arm. Stay close to me. Avoid eating anything. Take nothing from anyone. Do you understand?”

You nodded. “I understand.” You looped your arm through his. He looked at you for a moment longer, then turned toward the entrance of the party.

Music filtered through the air as you stepped through the grove of trees. It was odd, but alluring. It reminded you of lights shifting on walls, the tone constantly changing with odd trills throughout, but it was still beautiful. You shook your head, refocusing.

People swirled around you as you entered the clearing. They were strange, dressed in flowing robes and bright jewels that hung from tails and horns. As odd as it all was, it was hard to tear your eyes away. Everything was kaleidoscopic, mesmerizing.

“Try not to look,” Elwain said. His voice was less than an inch from your ear. “Mortal minds struggle to comprehend the true nature of Faeries.” You lowered your gaze to the ground.

Elwain led you onward, across the forest floor, toward the center of the throng. Bright lights fell on you and you squinted against them. “Announcing the Silver Son, Elwain Corridale, and his mortal consort!”

There was a sudden burst of murmuring, chittering, and general commotion. You lifted your chin, meeting the gazes of the Faeries who were looking at you with interest. Across the clearing, you could see two people, similarly beautiful and draped in clothes similar to Elwain’s, glaring. Presumably Elwain’s parents. You stared resolutely back at them.

The lights shifted away from you, but you could feel the gazes of the crowd on you regardless as Elwain led you over to the edge of the grove.

“Those two strict looking people your parents?” you asked out of the corner of your mouth.

“Yes,” Elwain whispered back. “Charming, aren’t they?” There was a sarcastic bite to his voice.

“I’m assuming you don’t get along,” you said. You were deliberately not looking at them, but you could feel their cool gazes on you. Elwain snorted.

“No. We don’t.” His gaze flicked over to them, eyes narrowed. “They seem quite irritated, do they not?” There was a note of distinct pleasure in his voice. His pale, inviting lips quirked into a small smile.

“They do,” you said cautiously. “Because you’re with a mortal?”

“Indeed.” He caught your curious gaze and rolled his eyes. “I suppose I shall have to sate your curiosity now?”

“Unless you have something better to do,” you said. “It doesn’t seem like it, considering that you’re hiding in a corner in the middle of a party.”

His gaze snapped over to you, lips curling. “You are especially irritating, even for a mortal, you know?” he said. You just looked at him steadily. He huffed out a sigh and looked back out at the dance floor. “We have not been getting along for a while.”

He lapsed into silence and you waited for a moment. “Why not?” you pressed when his was clear he was not going to be forthcoming with the answers.

Elwain grimaced. “I am the oldest of my family, set to inherit their wealth and land and the responsibility of keeping the family name out of the mud and in good standing. I’d much rather not have the responsibility. My younger sibling would be far better at taking the helm, but I am the eldest, so it falls to me, regardless of whether or not I want it, or would even be particularly good at it.” A sharp, cold grin crossed his face. “My parents have been so insistent that I take the position, regardless of my own feelings, so I figured that aggressively smearing the family name would, at the very least, piss them off. If they won’t change their decision, I can make them regret it.” He laughed. It was sharp and brittle, almost like a crow’s caw. Despite yourself, you smirked. Elwain caught your expression. “You seem… pleased.”

“It’s funny,” you admitted. “And I can get behind the idea of spiting your parents.”

Elwain’s smile shifted. It was a subtle thing, just a twitch of his lips and a smoothing of his brows, but it altered his entire expression. There was genuine happiness in his face, and his ethereal beauty melted into something gentler and more boyish. Your stomach gave a little flip. “You’re not irritated?” he asked, and there was genuine curiosity in his voice. “Mortals always seem to get awfully huffy about being used by Faeries.”

“I didn’t say that I wasn’t irritated. But I understand,” you said. You cast your gaze over at his parents again. The man was talking to someone with enormous antlers and strange, twisting legs, but his mother was glaring at you. Her gaze was like ice. It took all your will to repress a shiver. “Would you like to dance?”

Elwain gave you a surprised look. “You’d like to dance?”

“Better than standing off to one side. And if we’re going to try to be convincing to your parents, we’ll need to put on a better show than this.” Elwain’s surprise melted into an expression of amusement. His arm tightened on yours.

“Certainly. Wonderful point. Shall we?” He pulled you out onto the dance floor, threading you through the Faeries that were already out there. You ended up roughly toward the center. Some Faeries, the ones you figured were lower-class, avoided you, while others completely ignored your presence. Elwain stopped and turned to you, one hand settling on your waist, the other hand gripping yours. “Will you be able to keep up?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

You grinned back, mimicking his sharp grin. “Try me.”

The music was fast and energetic as you started to move. The beat was bouncing, easy to keep track of. Elwain led and you followed easily. Together, you swirled and weaved around the other couples.

Elwain’s hand shifted on your waist, tugging you closer to him. His fingers interlaced with yours. The beat of the music thrummed through your body, pounding in time with your heart. You were tepidly aware of other people around you, but you paid them no mind. Instead, you focused on Elwain’s face above yours, the slight knit of his brow as he focused on each dance move.

The music came to a stop. You blinked. It was as if you were stepping out of a trance, or waking from a dream. Your body was pressed against Elwain’s, almost chest to chest. With every step, you had drawn closer to each other. Your head was tilted sharply back to still look him in his face. His lips were parted slightly, and you found yourself tracing the curve of his mouth with your eyes. His fingers were tight on your lower back, tangled in the fabric of your dress.

“You’re better than I thought you’d be,” Elwain said. There was still that little edge to his voice, but it was wavering, as if it was a struggle to keep it up. He was panting a little, and you weren’t sure if it was actually from the exertion or not.

“So are you,” you said. You were staring up into his eyes. His pupils were large, endless and abyssal. He let out a slow, shuddering breath. His grip on your back loosened.

As you broke apart, you became aware of the gazes that rested upon you. Half the Faeries on the dance floor around you were staring, only swaying vaguely as a pretense for dancing. “Take a bow,” Elwain said, the edge of his mouth lifting into a smile. He swept out an arm and you mimicked him before bending low into a deep bow.

There was some scattered applause as you departed the dance floor, returning to your original place. Elwain was smiling in a smug, self-satisfied way. “I’m fulfilling my end of the bargain, yes?” you asked in an undertone.

Elwain looked down at you. “You’re certainly more effective than I thought you would be,” he said. “I can’t quite remember the last time I’ve had such a good time at a party.”

“I think I’ll take that as a compliment,” you decided.

“Good,” Elwain said. His voice quieted a little and sincerity blossomed in his tone. “I meant it as one.”

Before you could fully register what he’d said, Elwain’s mother came sweeping across the room toward you. She looked regal and fine, like a sculpture carved out of ice, her eyes blazing with cold fire. Her blonde hair was twisted into a tight bun, set in place with a silver, diamond-encrusted comb.

“Mother,” Elwain said. His voice was chilly enough to provoke a shiver, but you lifted your chin and stared defiantly back as his mother looked you up and down. Her lip curled and she gave you a clear look of disapproval.

“My son,” she said. Her voice hit like a whip. It took some willpower to avoid flinching. “I would like to speak to you for a moment.” It was clearly not a suggestion.

“Of course,” Elwain said, his voice measured and polite. He turned to you and fixed you with a smile. It was startlingly warm and your stomach flipped over. You bit your tongue, trying to kick the feeling away. No. Bad. Don’t start catching feelings for this guy. Elwain bent at the waist, drawing one of your hands up to his lips. His mouth brushed delicately along your knuckles. “I will return. Wait for me.”

His mother’s expression became icier and more remote, but she said nothing as she and Elwain stepped away from you. They moved to somewhere still within your eyesight, but out of earshot. You could tell they were having an intense, whispered conversation, and you could guess that you were the topic, but you couldn’t catch any details.

You were so distracted, trying to catch a whisper of their conversation, that you didn’t notice the Faerie at your side until he had grabbed your arm.

“Little mortal,” he crooned. He was pretty, so much so that it was uncanny to look at. You tried to pull your arm free from his, but his fingers were sharp and immovable as solid wood. He tugged on you, dragging you slowly but undeniably toward the dance floor.

“Little mortals shouldn’t be all alone in Faerie,” he said. His voice bounced around the inside of your head, banging off the sides of your skull until your brain was suffused by ringing noise. It was dizzying. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

He was dragging you steadily toward the dance floor. Memories of your studies screamed alarms at you. Mortals trapped in swirling Faerie dances, unable to stop even as their feet bled and their muscles strained with exhaustion. Already, you could hear the enchanting, piping music. Your brain was fuzzing. One of your hands scrabbled for the cold iron pendant under your dress, but your fingers felt clumsy. You couldn’t resist. Why did you even want to resist? The music was so beautiful, leaping through your veins, and it would be so amazing to just be able to dance…

Someone’s hand caught yours. You staggered to a stop, the fog retreating from your brain. The Faerie snarled, dropping his grip on you.

“I would thank you not to try and steal my date,” Elwain said. His voice was freezing. Even with the full force of it turned on someone else, you couldn’t stop yourself from shivering. The Faerie that had tried to grab you shrank back.

“Of course, if I had known the mortal was yours, I would have left her alone,” the Faerie said, ducking his head and backing away. “Apologies, my lord.” He scrambled back into the crowd, melting away.

 Elwain glared after him until he was gone, then turned to you, offering his arm. “Are you all right?”

You took a deep breath, stabilizing yourself. “Fine.”

“I did tell you to avoid the other Fae,” he said in a scolding tone. You glared at him.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” you said. “He ambushed me.” With Elwain’s arm around yours, the music that had been scrambling your brain seemed distant. He led you back across the room. His fingers were tight on your arm. Even when you were a safe distance away from the other Fae, he didn’t release you.

“Maybe we should stay somewhere else, for now,” he said. He picked his way through the crowd to a gap between the trees and worked his way through them.

It took only a few moments to get to the edge of the forest. The sky overhead was filled with more stars than you’d ever seen. You could even see the gradation of color from the deep navy blue at its zenith to the faint, almost purple color at the edges.

Elwain released your arm and closed his eyes. His expression fell. Suddenly, he looked exhausted and wan. You hesitated before asking, “Did everything go all right with your mother?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “She was most displeased,” he said in a haughty tone that suggested he was mimicking her. “Most displeased indeed that I was disgracing the family name by dallying with a mortal.” He rolled his eyes. “You would think she didn’t have mortal blood in her family.”

“She does?” you said. Elwain lifted a shoulder in a moody shrug.

“Most Faeries do, even the nobility. The Queen is rumored to have mortal blood in her lineage, even. Our own reproductive ability is poor. Mortals are much better at breeding. It’s not uncommon for a Faerie to marry another Faerie and sire all his children with one of his mortal servants.”

“Then why is it such a problem to be with me?” Elwain gave you a look that suggested you were either very thick or very naïve.

“You’re allowed to breed with a mortal, but you’re not supposed to treat them as an equal. You’re certainly not supposed to date one, or show her off as your partner. Breeding with mortals is more of an open secret. Actually marrying a mortal would be a huge drop in status, and as the oldest son of my family, it would be a scandal if I even married a Faerie of lower status, much less a mortal.”

“That’s why you thought I would piss off your parents,” you said. “You’re putting your family status in jeopardy.”

Elwain nodded. “Yes. They’re so concerned about my family name, I figured putting it under threat will at least get some kind of reaction.” There was an undercurrent of vindictiveness in his voice. “Perhaps it will at least get them to see that I am a living person and not just a walking vessel for carrying on their line.”

Without thinking, you put a hand on his shoulder. He went stiff, staring at you. “Glad I could help with that. It sounds like a worthy cause. I’m all for pissing off shitty parents.”

Elwain looked at you with an unreadable expression. Then his mouth twitched and he smiled. “Well, then. We should get back and do it some more, shouldn’t we?” He reached up and took your hand off his shoulder. Instead of hooking your hand into the crook of his arm, as he had been doing, he kept it in his hand.

There was a faint whistling noise. Something whizzed by your ear and made a dull ‘thunk’ as it embedded itself in the tree trunk behind you.

Your ear was stinging. You reached up and touched it. Your hand came away bloody.

“Get down!” Elwain pulled you into the bushes. His body was nearly on top of yours, pressing you down into the undergrowth. One of his hands pressed against the small of your back.

“Someone’s shooting at us!” you said redundantly. Elwain lifted his head slightly, trying to get a look around the brush. Another arrow whizzed by, slamming into the ground less than an inch from your hand.

Elwain made to grab it and yanked his hand back with a hiss. You could smell sizzing flesh. “It’s cold iron,” he said. “They’re for killing Faeries.” Horror crept into his voice. “They’re here to kill me.”

Another arrow plunged into the ground. This one was less than an inch from one of Elwain’s hands. “We need to move before they get a shot!” you said. “I can distract them, then you can run.”

“Wait! That may not be a good ide-” Before Elwain could finish his protest, you pushed your way out of the bush you’d hidden in and plunged blindly into the woods.

There were several more whistling thunks as arrows rained down on you. One of them ripped its way through the skirt of your dress and you had to pause and wrench it free. When you lifted your gaze to start running again, a shadowy figure descended from the trees in front of you.

They were entirely wrapped in black, so their features were difficult to make out, except for the fact that they were tall and skinny. A hand clapped down on your shoulder, right at the junction of your neck. It was cold, with needle-sharp fingers.

“Little mortal,” they crooned. “We were only told to kill the Faerie. With you, we can do whatever we please.” One of their fingers stroked along your cheek. Your mind fogged. “Wouldn’t you like to be my little plaything? We would have so much fun together. Or perhaps it would be funny for that little lordling to die by your hands? What a fitting death for the mortal lover.”

One of your hands went under your dress. Your brain was fuzzy, but your mind cleared as your fingers brushed your string of rowan berries. Still, you kept your gaze as unfocused as possible. Your other hand was creeping under the back of your dress. Your cold iron knife burned against your thigh. “Call out to him,” the Faerie said. “He’ll come for you, and then we’ll see how he fares when his little pet bites back-”

The Faerie had no chance to react. The knife ripped free from its sheath and you wrenched it up then down in a plunging arc. The blade tore into his chest. The smell of burning meat filled the air around you. Flesh sizzled as you ripped the knife down, carving open his belly.

The Faerie’s expression turned from gloating to terror. He staggered back, hands clamped to his gut. His motion wrenched the knife free from your hand, leaving it embedded in his stomach. He fumbled for it once, twice, before pulling it out of him. A gout of blood poured from the wound, soaking through his black clothes and puddling in the dirt.

He collapsed sideways on the ground. He was still breathing. You could hear the soft, wheezing gasps as he struggled for air. Gradually, the breaths became garbled, gurgling. He coughed, body spasming. Something warm and wet was soaking your feet. You didn’t want to look down. There was so much blood around him, more blood than you’d thought could be in a person.

It took a few moments to realize that the gurgling had stopped.

Something crashed through the bushes behind you. You whirled, lifting your second weapon in your hand. It was smaller, blunter, but maybe if you cracked them over the head, you could stun them for long enough you get away-

“Watch yourself. It’s only me,” Elwain said. He emerged into a shaft of moonlight. His long cloak was hanging in tatters from his shoulder and there were smears of muck and dirt across his face and clothes. His hair was in complete disarray. His gaze traveled up and down your body. “You’re bleeding.”

“No,” you said, stepping back to reveal the body on the ground behind you, “I’m not.”

There was a cold pause. Elwain looked between the body and you several times, as if trying to reconcile the evidence. Finally, he stepped past you and knelt next to the body.

“Cold iron,” he said, his tone unreadable. “I should have searched you before bringing you here. I figured humans had largely forgotten all the old methods.”

“If you had searched me, he would have killed me and then you,” you said in a chilly voice.

“A fair enough point,” Elwain said, albeit a touch reluctantly. “You are far more clever than I gave you credit for.” He rustled with the body a bit more, then went still, sucking in a sharp breath.

“What?” you said, leaning over his shoulder. He lifted a silvery pendant, dangling it from a chain around his fingers.

“I recognize this,” he said in a hollow voice. “My family crest.”

You stared at the little triangular that dangled from the chain. “He was from your family.”

“Sent by them, at least. The crest marks him as one of our assassins.” His voice caught. It was only the slightest of noises, something that you almost didn’t notice. For a moment, his expression crumpled. He took in a swift, choked breath and his face smoothed over. His eyes were still distant, staring absently ahead.

You reached out and squeezed his hand. His fingers tightened on yours with crushing force. “I’m sorry.”

He breathed deeply. “We need to go. If there’s one, there will be more.” He fumbled with the ties of his cloak. It dropped into the foliage. He was turning to you in a moment, fingers sliding along your bodice. You yelped quietly as he tugged free some of the outer layers of your dress, leaving a shift that would be far easier to run in. Despite the danger, you found yourself focusing on the skim of his fingers against your skin.

“Where are we going?” you asked as Elwain started to tug you through the trees.

He skidded to a stop, gaze darting wildly. “I- I don’t know.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. His expression was lost, uncertain. There was nowhere for him to go, you realized. His family was gone. He was being chased by assassins. His life was gone.

Fine. You would take over. “Go back to the mortal world,” you said. “It’ll at least shake them off your tail for a while.”

 Elwain blinked at you, expression clearing. His fingers tightened on yours and he picked up into a run. Within a few steps, you were staggering to a stop in a mortal forest.

“They probably won’t come after me,” Elwain said. “They won’t want to draw the attention of mortals. And as long as I’m here, I’m out of their way.” He blinked slowly. “I have been exiled from Faerie on pane of death.” His voice was hollow, weak.

You leaned against him, trying to comfort him. “I’m so sorry.”

Elwain tossed his head back and laughed. It was a sharp, grating laugh, nearly inhuman. Your hair stood on end hearing it. “I knew my family had executed political irritants before,” he said between choked breaths, “but I never realized they would count me among the number!”

His laughter broke, turned into wracking sobs. He swayed into your side, pressing his face into your shoulder. You rubbed his back helplessly.

It took some time before he lifted his head again. He looked significantly less magnificent in his tattered clothes, with his eyes bloodshot and puffy. There was something oddly endearing about it, though. “I don’t know where to go,” he said in a quiet voice. “I have never had to stay in the mortal world before.”

“You can stay with me,” you said. “But you’re going to have to pull your weight.”

 He looked at you archly, drawing himself up in a way that could have made him look impressive, except the effect was ruined by his running makeup. “And what does that mean, exactly?”

You smiled. “You’re going to have to get a job.”

 Two weeks later, Elwain came stumbling into the house and fell face-first onto the couch.

“How was work?” you asked. Elwain let out a tortured groan. “That good, huh?”

“Every day I work there and don’t curse someone is a miracle,” he said, voice still muffled in the cushions.

“I mean, you’re doing pretty good. And the tip money is really something,” you said. It was odd to see Elwain in a cheap fast-food uniform, but even that couldn’t dampen his unearthly attractiveness. There had been a small gaggle of people who’d been leaving generous tips along with some suggestive compliments.

Elwain crawled across the couch and planted his head in your lap. You drew your fingers slowly through his hair. “I don’t see why I have to work a job. I could glamour a few stones into diamonds and we would be set for life.”

You snorted. “The illusion would wear off and selling diamonds isn’t as easy as you seem to think it is. If you’re going to live in the mortal world, you need to live like a mortal.”

Elwain rolled his eyes. “You are a slave driver.”

“Yeah, I’m so cruel,” you laughed. “Maybe next time, I’ll let the assassins get you.”

Elwain sat up. His face had a tendency to flush patchily, with red spreading unevenly over his skin. It was oddly humanizing. “It was rather impressive, that move with the knife under your dress,” he said. “You were far more clever than I gave you credit for.”

“Thank you,” you said, a little smug. “Us mortals are quite impressive, aren’t we?”

“Hmph.” Elwain’s blush deepened. “Yes, well. Out of all the mortals I could have picked, I’m quite pleased it was you.” He curled up in your lap. His face nestled into the crook of your neck. “You are quite a special mortal.”

“Hm.” You smiled. “I think I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You could feel Elwain’s mouth move against your skin and the soft rush of his breath as he laughed. “Good. It was intended as such.”

[idesofrevolution]

Okay: Bad Boy Musky Transformation it is. Enjoy!

I knew, of course, that Marco sold whatever the degenerates in the neighborhood needed. Weed, Acid, Ecstasy, Shrooms, Coke... take out the hard ones and you have his menu. He always seemed to afford the good things in life with his dark money. Two weeks ago he’d bought a Ducati; a week prior it was a 60 inch TV! God knows it wasn’t from dutiful employment, but I knew damn well just what it was that afforded him these luxuries: whatever could be inhaled, snorted, or smoked. And yet, here I was, working two jobs at McDonalds & Popeyes just trying to afford my garbage studio apartment. 

He’d only ever been kind to me, I’ll admit. He’d bring by a pizza he said he couldn’t finish, or his old speakers he’d upgraded. Nice guy, if a bit dim. Always out in the courtyard, laying by the pool with his shirt off. Always surrounded by other guys who’d slip him a hundred. It’s not fair! Four years of college and what did I have to show for it? Student loans and no job prospects. Yet there he was: no trade, no job, no future really; but living like a king. So it was one day where I’ll fully admit that my jealousy overwhelmed me. 

I was short that month, for the first time mind you. Short only by a hundred dollars for rent, but I had already gotten a notice on my door. Pay tomorrow or get lost. It was this desperation that made me remember every deal that thug made, every 8-ball, every eighth, every pill... Would he really notice a hundred missing from his pile? I knew for a fact that every Wednesday night, precisely at 10, Marco would leave for the hookah club and not return until 4 or 5 at the earliest. I knew he locked his door, a few locks actually, but I also knew that the moron left his window cracked nearly every night. It just so happened that on that particular evening, he did just that. 

In that fleeting moment of curiosity, a plan built up in my head. I watched him loudly slam his door, lock his several locks, and saunter out down the stairs. I waited about five minutes before creeping out of my apartment, careful to watch for other prying eyes. I had to be quick. I made a run for it, bolting to his open window on the balcony. It slid open quite easily, and I heaved myself over the ledge and into Marco’s dark apartment. I landed on the ratty old carpet and quickly shut the window. Looking around the apartment, it was a three bedroom for sure. In the same state of disrepair as mine, but furnished with some of the most expensive, gaudy things I’ve ever seen. Brand new leather couches, a coffee table made completely of glass, a massive stereo system next to his 60 inch TV... An absolute manchild lived here.

However, I wasn’t there for the TV or the oversized sectional. I had a sneaking suspicion that he, like many of us, kept his extra money somewhere in the bedroom. Ensuring that no noise would come from my steps, I snuck quietly down the hall, covered in paintings of scantily clad men toward the bedroom. Interesting, he swung that way, huh? Opening the door, a wafting stink hit me in the face. The room was covered in dirty laundry, used condoms, half rolled  blunts, and lines of coke on nearly every surface. This is what I was expecting, and I was surely right. Holding my nose shut, I crept toward his dresser, and began to ruffle through his belongings. Damp socks, damp underwear, damp lycra, everything in there was damp and reeking. I slammed each of the drawers shut, and opened the closet. There, on the tile floor behind rows of pristine sneakers were a pair of destroyed old Vans; and inside each were rolls of hundred dollar bills. Jackpot. I knelt down and grabbed one of the rolls, momentarily unclamping my nose to remove the rubber band. The smell was unbelievable. It took me aback, just how strong it was. I’m sure each of the pairs of Huaraches, AF1′s, and the like had strong scents of their own, but from this single pair of beat up old Vans was the most salty, sweet, almost cheesy footmusk that I’d ever encountered.

For a mere second, I contemplated bringing one of the shoes to my face, letting the dirty, wet insole touch the tip of my nose. However, it was in that second that I should have just left well enough alone. The lightswitch flipped on, and looming over me was the hulking, shirtless Marco. In my right hand was his wad of cash, in the left was his grody sneaker. My face flushed, and my stomach dropped to my toes. He crossed his arms and smiled.

“If you wanted a loan you could have just asked...” Words were caught in the back of my throat. I wanted so terribly to make up some fantastic excuse as to my presence in his closet, but the frog in my throat had other ideas. The growing grin of Marco, paired with him beginning to kneel down to my level made my heart nearly stop beating. “And if you wanted a sniff I’d have given it to you.” He smirked and slowly pulled the shoe from my hand, taking a quick whiff of it’s stench. He turned quickly and laughed, waving the wafting scent away from his face before grabbing the back of my head and plunging it right into the shoe. “Okay, deep breath now.”

I tried to struggle, to fight back, but the man was nearly twice my size and pure muscle. There was no chance of me weaseling my way out of this. I had to just play along with this weird fetish that he seemed to have. I inhaled a quick breath, barely getting any stink. 

“No, no. I said deep breath.” I felt a strong hand shoot to my crotch, grabbing my junk within my jeans. The shock of this invasive gesture broke my concentration, and a gasp of breath escaped from my mouth. Into my nose, my mouth, my sinuses, my brain did the musk penetrate. I moaned loudly, the confusion of a powerful grope and a powerful scent submerged me into a strange state of consciousness. Or rather, a lack thereof. I was inhaling the footsmell like air, and I couldn’t get enough. My cock began to tent in my pants, and I felt my right hand drop the roll of cash I thought I so desperately needed. “Ahh, haha. That’s right, let it in. Let me in.” 

His voice seemed distorted, as if we were in a deep cavern, it echoed in my skull. He removed the shoe from my face, pulling me to my feet by my bulging groin. Guiding me toward his bed, I sat down on the smelly sheets, no longer in complete control of my faculties.

“Take your clothes off.” His words entered my ears like soft velvet, it felt wrong to disobey. In fact, I wanted to obey. For the first time, I wanted to listen to whatever this man told me to do. His bulging muscles, his plump lips, the way his crooked smile felt so dangerously mischievous, the way his smell took my breath away like a vacuum. For the first time, this man was everything I wanted. I ripped my clothes off and lay there on his bed wearing nothing but my bare, cold skin. Smiling, he took hold of my throbbing, upright cock in his rough hand. Ripples of goosebumps ran up and down my body as he slowly ran his calloused hand up and down my shaft. Each stroke allowed a groan or a moan to sneak out of my lips, before he leaned down atop me and planted a soft kiss onto my lips. He tasted like an ashtray and as his tongue slipped into my mouth, rolling atop my own, I could feel some of his taste transfer to me. I can’t explain it, as we kissed I could feel that taste of cigarettes and blunts seep into my tongue. I pulled his pants down, his thick, uncut cock tumbling out of his compression shorts onto my stomach. He smiled as he pulled away from the kiss. I stuck my finger under his foreskin, swiping it around, and brought it to my lips. It tasted like ripe, sweaty cock, and I began to crave it. “Oh yeah, babe you’re a keeper.”

He jumped up, and pulled me toward the edge of the bed. I got a perfect frontal view of his gorgeous cock and saggy balls, his virile and manly smell kept pouring into my nose and into the depths of my mind. He grabbed me by the back of my hair and pulled my eager mouth forward, engulfing his slick, smelly cock. I suckled, my loud slurping seeming making him even hornier. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him fiddling with something just out of view. As he thrust down my throat, I realized just what it was that he had. His used condom, I presume from whatever sexy fuck occurred the night prior, was in his hands. I closed my eyes as I felt its rubbery walls close tightly around the tip of my cock, slickly sliding down my shaft until his cold, creamy load touched my slit. With a loud snap, I looked down and saw his thick white cum completely enveloping my cockhead. I only got a quick glance before he’d pulled out of my mouth, replacing his succulent cock with my now favorite smelly shoe. I licked the sole, letting the thick toejam season my ashy tongue as the musk thrust into my nose once more. 

I knew what was coming, and I was prepared when I felt that slippery cock slip like butter into my tight hole. He’d grabbed my cock, covered in his seed, and jerked in tandem with his thrusts into my ass. Sensory overload. His smell, his seed, his cock, his taste, the very sight of him... It was all him. He was marking me. I was his property, and I was glad to oblige. Every single hard smack against my ass cheeks, every stinking waft into my brain, every breath of his smoky breath coming out of my mouth... It was too much! He fucked like a madman, stroking my cock into his slime until I felt a strange tingling in my cockhead. It was a slick, penetrating sensation of his seed... slurping into my slit! I was nearly screaming as I felt it sink deep down my shaft, into my engorging balls. It was stewing, brewing inside my growing sack! I heard him howl as he unloaded his fresher load into me. 

I felt his cock within me shooting spurt after spurt... going from ounces to gallons very quickly. His cum spread throughout my body like water into a balloon. I could feel the silky liquid beneath my skin, creeping, inflating every part of my body. It seeped up my throat, into my mouth, behind my very eyes into my brain. The pressure grew as I felt growth, I felt strength, I felt different. My body was gelatinous beneath my skin, before slowly firming into a much larger form. An improved form. I pulled Marco’s shoe from my face, and looked at my changing body. The cum kept flowing as I saw my muscled arms, my bulging abs, a grotesquely inflated ballsack... He leaned down and kissed me again, giving me another much needed taste of his addictive taste. My brain was melting, reforming, changing... Things were fuzzy and blurred before it was my turn to blow my load. In it, was who I used to be, my failures, my strife, my worries and obligations... Flowed like a jet out of my cock into his condom. Cum flowed out of the top of the condom, before Marco ripped it from me, letting the hot juices pool between us. 

“Lookin’ good, babe.” He smiled at me, and I looked at the man I loved with a smirk. Yeah, I sure fuckin’ do look good. We laid there all night long, fucking and kissing and sniffing and tasting... By the time the sun came up, I was in his clothes, I reeked of his sweaty manly musk, I was wearing my favorite pair of red Vans, and I was readying an 8-ball for pickup later that morning (after a few lines for me and the boyfriend). I kicked back and lit a cigarette, enjoying the laid back life I’d come to love with my man.

It’s a love story. How touching. So let me know what you think. Give me some anons on your opinions! Also, toss a few quid into the tip jar and I’d be eternally grateful <3 <3