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fuzzyclink · 4 months

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Wrote a Cirrus x Vesper fic! I originally posted this on my touchstarved blog here but I've been finding that my posts from there don't show up in any tags currently, so reposting here.

Warnings: 18+ mdni, priest kink, eating, food, humiliation, violence, spitting, bad BDSM ettiquette, sadism, kicking, blood/pain. Reader gender not described(pronouns/body).

Cloying

As the last full moon of the year draws closer, the paths of the city buzz with excitement. Though not everyone under the mountain prays to the Lunar God, plenty are happy to join in the merriment or make a profit off of people who are celebrating the festival. This time of year people cluster around the usually isolated church - vendors crowding around the base of the building with their wares. You've decided to join in the celebrations yourself, donning a black seasonal mask that covers your nose to forehead, with a small, delicate depiction of the moon going through various phases positioned right above your eyebrows.

Tonight is the official start of the festival, though anticipation has been brewing for the last week. As it's your first year here, you haven't been able to attend a Lunar Cleanse service, only hearing about it in bits and pieces from people at The Leaping Bear. Privately, you're a bit excited to experience something new. You've been so caught up in your search for a cure that you think some merriment for once would do you good. And, you're curious to see Cirrus lead the congregation through the ceremony. You've never seen him in front of a large group like that before.

The ceremony is starting shortly, so you make your way to the church. The streets are alive with festival-goers milling around. The air, usually damp and still, is filled with sweet scents. It's more humid than ever, hazy air rising from delicious round buns, steamed and stuffed with savory meats and vegetables. You see a nearby vendor lay out pale sesame rice balls on small plates, sticking to the fingers of people who tear into them hungrily. Another vendor is selling marshmallow filled cookies, covered in a thin layer of white frosting. On your way to the church, a stall selling candy catches your eye. You purchase some quickly, grabbing a bag of tiny, glittering silver candies. You pull open the narrow bag as you walk, placing a candy in your mouth. As you roll the sphere around on your tongue, a delicate flavor of jasmine fills your mouth, and you crunch the rest of it between your teeth happily. It's a delight to see the backbreaking worries of the city fall away, even if it's only for a short period of time.

The sounds and scents of the busy street fade away as you enter the church. The church is busier than you've ever seen it before, the building crowded with devotees sitting shoulder to shoulder in the pews. Even though it's crowded, everyone speaks in hushed voices. The building has been decorated with gleaming ribbons, strung along the tops of the walls. The placement of the ribbon leads you to think that few other than Cirrus would be able to place the decorations. You snicker to yourself quietly, imagining him wobbling on the tips of his toes to secure ribbons around the building. Or maybe, you think as your smile widens, he stood on a small stepstool? Your exploratory gaze falls upon Cirrus himself, standing at the front of the room. You immediately avert your gaze, feeling as if he would be able to sense your daydreaming just from your facial expression. He has a way of drawing guilt to the surface of your thoughts, bobbing to the top unavoidably like a cork in water.

You find a seat at the back of the room and slide into the end of a pew, crowded rows of benches lining the chapel in front of you. Your neighbor gives you a quick nod, their silvery silk mask glinting under the light of the candles before turning back to the front of the room. You clutch your candy in your hands, placing the bag on your lap. The room quiets as Cirrus takes his place at a podium. He wears the robes you've always seen him in, but in this moment they seem almost ethereal, glowing and shimmering in front of the candles. Silver hair cascades down his back as he stands resolutely before the crowd. His shoulders stand strong and the power he emits reaches you all the way in the back of the room. The crowd leans forward in anticipation.

"At this time of year we are able to begin anew," he intones, sweeping his hands out to the audience.

"The moon is pale and shining- a reminder of the ending of one year, and beginning of another. All of us gather to praise it’s light.

"All gather to praise", the congregation murmers in response. You hastily mumble some words, wishing that the service came with a tutorial. You hadn't realized there would be a call and response.

Cirrus continues. "The Night Air pierced by Silver Light presses down upon us. The Moon shines through us. We ask for it to illuminate our darkest faults, to wash them clean. Each of you have made grave errors this year," he sternly states, gazing out into the room. "Each of you have mistakes that you wish to release." You swear you can feel his eyes upon you, and wonder nervously about any possible mistakes you have made recently. Does it count that you hadn't brought your dishes to the counter at The Leaping Bear? Or maybe you’ve been too rude to the vendors when, time and time again, they have no news for your cure?

Cirrus's voice cuts through your thoughts.

"Let the strike of bells pull your guilt from you and release it. Let each toll into your heart and feel it dredge up the turmoil within. Bring your darkness out and let it whither in the light".

He stands commandingly at the front of the room, a bell the size of his fist resting in his gloved hands. He carefully swings his arm, the sound of the bell crisply ringing through the room. It's medium pitched and sharp, startling you in the quiet. You jolt a little, shifting in your seat. As it echos through the room, he paces softly across the front of the church. Another toll spreads through the space as he reaches the left side.

"Bring your sorrows up through your chest and release them with your breath," he instructs, a lecturer to an obedient audience. You try to obey, but your breath catches in your throat at the next ring - the sound so sharp and striking that it tears your attention away and sends a shock through your body. He continues to stride slowly at the front of the room, each subsequent ring of the bell growing softer and softer until you can barely tell whether he's rung it again or if the sound still lingers faintly in the air from the previous strike.

"Let your breath serve as a reminder to you of the life given to you, and of the light that will always return to you, even when the darkness feels crushing and all-encompassing. Just as you inhale and exhale, the moon changes and is lighted anew." He pauses for a moment, solemnly surveying the audience. You feel light and unburdened, more at peace than you have felt in weeks.

"With renewed spirits and lightened hearts, let us learn from those who have walked before us. In the first book of the Lunar Scripts..." Cirrus continues onwards, describing to the congregation a particularly (in your mind), dry and archaic passage from historical literature written long ago. Your eyes begin to close as his voice continues slowly on, the soft light of the chapel blurring in front of your half-lidded gaze. Your head starts to drop and you jolt yourself awake, shifting nervously in your chair and eyeing Cirrus. You suspect that he might have been facing the other side of the room when you started to doze off. He continues through the text, emphasizing certain points with a strident tone. It's clear that he knows the text well - but due to your lack of familiarity you're having a difficult time parsing the archaic phrasing. At times, you're not even sure it's in a language you know at all. You shift in your seat, fighting against the drowziness that seeps into your bones. You hope that the service will finish soon so you, and the rest of the worshippers, can join in the festivities outside. Your fingers shift on the wrapped candies in your lap and your stomach grumbles quietly. On a whim, you ease the top of the bag open, pressing a candy silently into your mouth. Maybe this will help keep you awake and your hunger at bay until the service is over.

"Silver Light, shining down upon us. We are bleached clean in your light. Glorious Celestial One, we are grateful for your protection in the last year, and returning brightness in this New Year. Before we celebrate your fullness through laughter and festivities, let us take a moment of silence to honor your watchful guidance". Cirrus leans onto the podium with the passion in his words. Everyone in the congregation stills, and the room falls silent. Light falls on Cirrus, draping over him and illuminating his hair like spun silver over his shoulders. He bows his mask towards the floor. You sit quietly, and as the silence stretches onwards, your eyes start to close again. You desperately pry them open, but between the warmth of the building, the dim lighting, and late hour, you soon find your head tilting to the side involuntarily. When your eyes close shut a third time, you desperately reach into your bag of candy for a distraction to help keep you awake.

To your horror, your fingers catch on the edge of the narrow bag, and the contents spill out in front of you, countless candies clattering across the stone floor. They bounce and tumble, each movement sounding thunderous in the silent room. You watch helplessly as the round candies careen across the flagstones, the furthest coming to a standstill at the feet of people three rows ahead of you. Masked faces turn to you curiously as people glance over their shoulders to see what the fuss was. Cirrus's gaze snaps to your face, pinning you in place like a moth on a board. His mouth twists when he sees that you're the one who caused the commotion.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so so sorry," you hurriedly breathe, sinking to the floor to gather what candies you can reach without disturbing those around you. The color is high in your cheeks, your hands sticky as you grab the candies nearby and press them into your pockets. Your gaze flits between the candies in front of you, scattered between the shoes of the other attendees but out of reach. You barely hear the end of the service, too mortified to raise your head or focus on Cirrus' words. The back of your shirt is damp with sweat. The congregation rustles to life as the ceremony concludes, the congregation impatient to finally listen to the music and enjoy the celebrations outside. You hover anxiously by your bench, standing and waiting for the rows to clear so you can gather up the mess you made. As the final attendees file out of the building, chatting to each other, Cirrus comes to stand beside you. His irritation rolls off him in waves and you shrink besides him, falling back down onto the bench without a thought.

"It's rather disrespectful, don't you think?" Cirrus says tensely, his words clipped and short. "Bringing food into the service. Distracting the church members. Irreverence on a sacred day. Such gluttony, hm?"

You have never had him this angry with you before, and your hands tremble in your lap where you twist them nervously. "Cir..Cirrus.. Father... Ah, I'm so so sorry, please, I'll clean them up right away. You're right, it was so stupid of me, I shouldn't have brought them in...I - I never meant to drop them, ppplease let me pick them up, I'll do it now..." You chance a look upwards, and the last bit of hope inside of you shrivels. He is silent, his face unmovable.

"You want to pick them up?" He asks softly. You nod, eyes fixed nervously on his face.

"I think your insatiable fingers will simply betray you again".

Your face falls, and you gesture out to him. "Sir.. Cirrus...I'll do it, I'll pick them up. Please, I'll do it right away,"

You sink to your knees and quickly stretch for one candy that's most of the way under the bench nearest to you, fingers scrambling across the dusty floor in your haste. Your heart stops in your throat when Cirrus's heavy, booted foot is placed onto your wrist.

"I said no," he hisses, the flat sole of his foot cruelly twisting against your skin. The bones in your wrist shift under the pressure.

"Your hands are clearly unreliable. And with your voracious hunger and desperation? Hmm, it's only fitting for you to use your mouth".

You lean back on your heels and crane your neck to look at him, wrist still pressed to the floor. "My mouth?"

"Yes. As starving as you are, we had better not let them go to waste." He places his hands behind his back impassively. "Begin."

You nod nervously and he lifts his foot off of your arm. You lower your torso to the floor with your arms, carefully picking up the small candy between your teeth. You can feel his icy gaze on your back. Chewing it quickly, you stoop further under the seats to grab the next nearest candy, shuffling forwards further on your hands. Even under the shelter of the bench, Cirrus's presence looms ominously behind you. You've just picked up the second candy when he speaks again, derision dripping from his words.

"In fact, I think it would be better if you didn't use your hands at all, hm?"

You twist awkwardly from beneath the bench, shuffling your weight back onto your heels. When you pull yourself upright in front of him, you see he's pulled out a narrow black rope. He steps behind you smoothly, pulling your arms behind your back and wrapping the rope around your wrists. A few firm knots later and your wrists are securely bound. Cirrus briefly checks the tightness by sliding the tip of his finger beneath the ropes and then stands.

He peers down at you, his mask an impenetrable shield. He can't keep a sneer from pulling at the edge of his mouth as he speaks. His anger is still palpable. "It suits you, my star. Perhaps this will teach you some restraint, since you are clearly struggling to learn. Continue."

You shift your weight forwards on your knees, testing the rope on your hands. It's tight but not unbearable. If you let your shoulders hang forwards the weight of your arms forces the rope to bite into your skin. But if you clasp your hands behind your back, it's tolerable. You lean all the way forwards, resting your torso on your knees. The spilled candies stretch out before you, some scattered as far as three rows ahead of you. Awkwardly, you scooch forwards, trying to move yourself over to a candy on the right. Your knees already feel sore against the pavement. You have much less control without the use of your hands, and you bash your spine into the underside of the bench. Pain radiates from your back and causes you to lurch forwards. Resignedly, you fully lay down, your torso on the floor and legs stretching out behind you. The floor is gritty and cool against your cheek, and you can feel the solidity of the stone through your clothes.

"There are many more to gather, my star. Best for you to progress quickly. Unless you'd rather I give you some *encouragement*, hmm?"

From the malice in Cirrus' voice, you feel pretty certain that you wouldn't like whatever his encouragement would entail. His foot comes to rest next to your ankle. The threat of it spurs you into action. You gather the candies under this row of pews with haste, twisting and contorting your body around on the stone to gather them in your teeth. The sweet jasmine flavor fills your mouth, polluted now with bits of dirt and sand from the floor. You look from side to side, your neck straining as you peer in the dim lighting. As you go from candy to candy, you pant harshly through your nose, mouth occupied. It’s difficult to progress with any kind of speed despite your efforts, and you work your way slowly across the ground, twisting and bending to shift from place to place. Your knees are starting to get rubbed raw, and your back aches from the strain of your motions. Your movements are becoming less precise as you grow tired, and you find yourself lunging for the candies with little finesse, eager to finish the job. One such motion scrapes the skin off your chin as you fall a bit too heavily on the floor.

Reaching the gap between the benches, you rest your cheek on the floor for a moment. The candies are fewer now, only beneath two wide benches ahead of you. You can feel the sweat stick to your skin. Your back burns, muscles furious from the repeated motion below the pews. Through your efforts, you've gained abrasions on your chin and cheekbone to accompany those on your knees. You close your eyes for a moment, gathering your strength.

Your body jolts when you feel Cirrus' boot come crashing into your ribs. "You think you've earned respite?" He speaks to you lowly, cooly. You squeeze your eyes shut, and find that his voice cuts into you. "You're dirty. Pathetic. Snuffling in the dust for grub like an animal." His disgust for you drips from every word. "Just minutes ago, you begged me to let you clean up. Told me how *quickly* you'd do it." On the last word he swings his leg again, this time slamming it into your gut. You gasp out a choked groan, wheezing. He continues on in a biting murmur. "I suspect that you cared more about currying my favor than righting your wrongs. I am not someone who can be plied with desperate words".

You cough a little, feeling a bruise bloom in your ribs as you do so. "Nno, I - I really am sorry, Cirrus, please, I'll continue. I want to clean it..." You feel a bit disgusted in yourself, but your desire to appease him and shame from your mistake prevails. You inch your way forwards to the next candies, painstakingly making your way beneath the benches. Cirrus walks to the row on the other side of the bench and stands there, waiting for you. You can see the faint shine of his shoes out of the edge of your eyes. Gathering the candies beneath this bench is harder. Your mouth and throat growing parched from your exertion and the endless sugar. You gasp on dust that rises from your movements. At some of the candies you find yourself resting for a moment, before quickly glancing to Cirrus’ feet and continuing again. Your back trembles as you shift forwards and you find yourself using your knees and shoulders more, doing your best to ignore how your skin screams at the friction. You've stopped clasping your hands together and they slump forwards limply, wrists aflame where the rope restricts them.

You start to feel anxious about how much is left. You've finally made it past the second bench. How many more are there? Surely you must be finished soon? You curse yourself. WHY would you be so stupid to try and eat them DURING the service? The delicate Jasmine flavor feels foul and cloying on your tongue. Glancing up desperately, you assess how many you have left to gather and realize that you only have the candies past the third bench to remove. Cirrus has walked ahead of you and stands at the remaining candies that have rolled out from under the bench. You realize, as he starts to move, that he was waiting for your attention.

He carefully lifts his boot and places it on top of the candy, grinding it into dust beneath his foot. With horror, you watch as he does this to each candy one by one, crushing each delicate silver orb into a fine, sugary powder. He drags the toe of his shoe through the mess, gathering it into a pile before he walks to the side. The powder clouds the dark leather. Cirrus waits for you, his expectation clear. Your breath hisses through your teeth as you pull your weary and aching body forwards. Pausing brings greater pain, each point of agony alighting with renewed vigor after the miniscule rest. Your clothes stick to you, damp with sweat and blood from your efforts. Reaching the edge of the powder, you shakily press your tongue into it, trying to pull it into your parched mouth. Your lips crack as you try to clean the mound up, each time leaving dust and damp remnants. You keep returning to it, trying again and again to remove it but only succeeding in spreading it more broadly upon the floor. With how dry your mouth is and your level of exhaustion, you’re unable to pick it up.

Your face slumps onto the stone next to the pile and a sob breaks from your chest. It's too much. There's nothing to be done. Your eyes squeeze shut as hot tears spill down your cheeks, leaving tracks in the grime. You curl up on yourself raggedly, body in a defensive ball. You can feel Cirrus's presence as he comes to stand by your shoulder. His clothes rustle slightly as he crouches. He grabs your chin, fingers sliding slightly through your tears. It's impossible to look at him. His voice feels gentle. "Your efforts, my star, have almost convinced me of your repentance".

"*Please*..." You croak out. You're not sure what you're asking for. His forgiveness, an end to all this, his help, rest.. Ciruss's thumb falls to your cracked lower lip.

"If you need help, you only must ask," he whispers to you.

He pulls your lips open and you feel something cool and wet fall against your tongue. Your eyes spring open to see a thin strand of saliva falling from his lips and into your open mouth. In this moment, it feels like a mercy. His jaw works and you open your mouth further yourself, accepting anything he would offer you. His spit pools in your mouth, almost refreshing after the relentless dust and sugar from the floor. It glints wetly as it falls. His hands slide to the back of your neck, carding through the damp hair at your nape for a moment. He holds the full weight of your head in his hands. His voice is as soft and as firm his fingers.

"So close, my star. You will continue. Leave your guilt behind".

Your heart trembles at that, the promise of forgiveness and his kindness so near.

You feel filthy. You feel beautiful in his touch. You feel like the stone you've spent so long inching across. His fingers slip softly through your hair and lower your head back to the ground. You feel him straighten more than you see it. With the most weariness you've ever felt before, you roll yourself to your front and gather the pile of dust into your mouth slowly, mouthful by mouthful. Your tongue and throat burn and it feels more as if the sugar tears your mouth than it does dissolve. You drag your damp jaw along the gritty floor, realizing at last that the pile is gone.

"You've done well to make amends.", Cirrus says, looking down at you in a heap at his feet.

It's then that your gaze falls to Cirrus's boots, right in front of you. They still have a fine smattering of dust from when he crushed the candies in front of you. Hazily, you blink at them, watching how the sugar dulls the reflection of the lights. With the very last dregs of your resolve, you shift forwards and lave your tongue through the dust on his boot. The boot shifts minutely, a quiet huff of surprise coming from him. You can tell he watches you as you do the best to clean his boots. Your exhaustion means that in some ways, you simply press your face and lips against them devoutly, your damp skin carrying away more grime at times than your mouth.

"What a precious, obedient little bootlicker", he breathes rapturously. "My devoted, gorgeous toy.”

Warmth sweeps through you at that, padding over your many aches and pains like a soft balm. Satisfied with the appearance of his shoes, you lay motionless on the floor. Dimly, as if to someone in a dream, you feel Cirrus unbind your hands and carefully lower your arms by your side. He rubs them gently, hushing you as you mumble in protest. You feel him reach below you and, with a motion that makes the world swing on it's axis, heft you into his arms.

"Is it ok, now?" You can't help but look for reassurance, your mind and body clinging to him as he carries you.

“Yes, little star. You are forgiven.”

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Thanks so much for reading! This fic was inspired by sitting through church services over the holidays and the full moon rn. I was also inspired by this ask to Rotten Racoons (https://www.tumblr.com/rottenraccoons/703263691996545024/will-the-lis-spit-in-vespers-mouth-if-they-asked), which stated Cirrus would spit in Vesper's mouth as a reward for good behavior:D I wanted to manifest the idea of "getting punished for being disruptive in church". If you made it to the end, thank you! I'd love to hear what you thought!

#obscura vn #Cirrus Obscura #Obscura #cirrus x reader #cirrus x Vesper #Obscura fic #Cirrus #obscura cirrus #cirrus x mc #rotten raccoons #priest kink #if u saw me post this earlier no u didnt #<3 #it's also on ao3 under my same name as here ^^#it's my second fic ever owo

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vintagesuga · 3 months

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☆Nicknames Skz call you

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tags: Ot8 x gn!reader. Fluffy, Pet names, established relationships, cute short little thing

summary: These are nicknames/pet names I think the members would call you. Enjoy!

a.n: This is the first work that I am posting on Tumblr so idk what I'm truly doing here. This is also cross-posted on Ao3 under the same username.

Chan:

I feel like he isn’t too big on using pet names, so he just calls you by your name

However, if he is feeling particularly lovesick, he calls you Sweetheart or Beautiful.

If he wants to tease, he calls you cheesy gross names like Pookie Bear or Apple of my eye

When you're going all ‘Mom mode’ (as the members like to call it) he calls you Boss Lady

You’re saved as ‘Love Bug’ in his phone

Minho:

Calls you Honey, Dear, or My love (and this is why the members think you’re married)

If he wants to tease you, he calls you Sweet Stuff or Honey Bunches

Said something very serious to you and ended it with ‘Suger pie honey bun’ and started cackling like a witch

Sometimes he is an absolute menace if you call him by a cute nickname, will not answer you

People get confused when they see ‘Mother to my children’ in his contacts

Changbin:

Very buff man of him to call you like Doll or Toots.

When he is serious, he loves to call you Sunshine, Buttercup, or Pumpkin, tho

Called you Dumpling once, and you absolutely melted, Hearts for eyes frfr.

Has and will call you Wifey when you go out, finds it hilarious

He has you saved as ‘Queen💅’

Hyunjin:

He calls you short stuff

Unlike Chan, he is being 100% serious when he calls you the Apple of my eye

For real, tho he probably calls you something like Love or Darling, something really romantic.

Jokingly suggested he call you My Treasure or Aphrodite, not expecting you to actually like those names

Saved as ‘My muse’ with a gross amount of emojis

Jisung:

He calls everyone Baby, and that includes you, too.

Probably shortens it to Babe and just interchanges them.

Schnookums or Pookie if he wants to be a little shit.

If he wants something from you, he tries calling you the Love of his life. You see right through him, tho so his trick never works.

Jokingly saved you as ‘Nutter Butter’ in his contacts and found it hilarious, so he just hasn’t changed it.

Felix:

Mans calls you a whole bakery. Cupcake, Pudding, Cutie Patootie, Sugar Pie. The whole 9 yards.

If it is sweet, in his eyes, you are that sweet

I feel like he just switches his pet names for you like every other day, so it is never the same one twice.

He once called you Bubs for about 3 weeks, tho; you absolutely loved it. Favorite nickname.

Has you saved as ‘Muffin🥰’

Seungmin:

Calls you like Cold French Fries or Roach, you know mean things. Catch him dead before he calls you cute nicknames.

Definitely, one to call you Trouble. Especially when you call him by cute nicknames

You know he is being difficult, but names like Chicken Nugget??? Those aren't endearing

When it's just the two of you, he calls you stuff like Hon or Darling

You’re saved as ‘My only one😒’ in his phone.

Jeongin:

I feel like he is also not one for pet names

Calls you Baby, but it's like rarely

If he really wants you to understand how much he loves you tho he calls you Angel or Precious

Called you something like Bestie once, and you didn’t speak to him for hours

Has you saved as ‘Number one cuddler🫶’

©️vintagesuga Do not repost.

#stray kids #skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #pet names #established relationship #bangchan x reader #lee know x reader #seo changbin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #lee felix x reader #kim seungmin x reader #yang jeongin x reader #skz scenarios

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nerujikam · 5 months

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Coincidence? I think not.

Modern!AU | mizu x fem!reader

tags fluff, meet cute(?), drabble, mentions of other characters

words around 400

a/n is this my first fic here? anyways, a little warning this was a complete brainfart. its 3 am and i typed this on my notes app so, obv not beta proofed. related to this btw? will crosspost this to ao3 later!!

a/n crossposted on my ao3 here!

"Oh, sorry."

You looked up to where the voice was coming from. A tall raven haired woman clad in a cropped checkered knit in a blazer, sleeves folded up to her elbow. Her hair was put in a tight bun, strands of hair falling on her face, looking down on you after barging the kitchen.

Looks... familiar.

You were in the midst of getting out a plain cake for the host's, Akemi's, birthday today. With the people coming in on the dining room and living room, Akemi had to greet them leaving the counter a mess prior from cooking a big meal. Hence you squatting down to the floor and make shift the cake box as a cake stand.

"No problem. Sorry, I was..."

"For Akemi?" she cut, pointing at the cake on the floor.

You nodded, "Yeah, it's a surprise. She doesn't know," you stood up to free some space from the mess on the counter.

She walked up towards you, "I'll help you with those,"

You mutter a small thanks, reaching down to the cake carefully before finally placing it on the counter.

"Thanks so much, um...?"

"Mizu,"

You mentioned back your name,

"Nice meeting you," you shook her hand, calloused, "I think we were in the same class?" you wondered.

"You think so, too?"

"Uh-huh, Research Method?"

"Right." Mizu nodded.

Ah, that’s where...

As you cut open the piping bag to decorate the cake, you took a glance outside the kitchen, checking who else is already here. Ringo and Taigen who came in moments ago after you, setting up the dishes they brought on the dining table. An older woman and a bunch of girls piling up with Akemi in the living room, catching up with her. All that’s left were her boyfriend (who planned this surprise cake) and a few of your friends.

Amidst that, one thing amusing catches your eyes. You scanned through one more time before looking back at Mizu to check. She was in the middle of tidying up dishes. You let out a chuckle.

"What's up?" Mizu questioned upon your amusement. You gave her a second glance before continuing squeezing down the decorative whipped cream,

"I think we're the only ones in a tartan tonight," you smiled at the tiny coincidence. Silly, you thought.

Mizu looked down on her own top. Light brown knit with a subtle checkered pattern under her blazers. She averts her stare to your brown skirt, also checkered. You stared at Mizu checking you up as her eyes trailed up, finally locked eyes with you. You were lost under her blue irises for a moment, forgetting the whipped cream in your hands. You felt your heart stammering before quickly letting out an awkward giggle, going back to work on your cake.

The same blue eyes lingered on you for a little more while.

***

iM so crazy for her. crazy? i was crazy once.

#neruites #mizu x reader #mizu x you #mizu #blue eye samurai x you #blue eye samurai #bes fic #mizu fic #mizu smut #bes smut

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jointherebellion215 · 2 months

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Birdie

John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader

Summary: A rare night out in London has Bucky coming to terms with his feelings for you.

Word Count: 2.9k

Tags: mechanic!reader, songbird!reader, female!reader, she/her pronouns used, drinking culture, cursing, mutual pining, moderate bouts of denial, insecurities, women supporting women because it's what we deserve, let's pretend that The Old Therebefore is an ancient Appalachian folk song in this universe, maybe she's a Mary Sue idgaf, I just wanted to write something happy so LET ME LIVE, WWII era, there's no Y/N but reader has the nickname "Birdie"

A/N: Yeah, I'm obsessed with Masters of the Air. I had to write something for my mans before the creative procrastination literally killed me. Please leave a like, comment, or even a reblog if you're so inclined :)

You can read my OC version of this story on AO3!

Songs Mentioned in This Fic:

Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy by The Andrews Sisters

G.I. Jive by Johnny Mercer

The Ole Therebefore (Accapella) by Rachel Zegler

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, don't copy my writing without explicit permission. That includes you, you AI sonuvabitch.

Your heels clicked on the cobblestone streets, turning into the pub you’d heard so much about. You were out celebrating a very rare weekend off. The Brass had somehow allowed you and twenty other mechanics from base two days leave, so you took advantage of the opportunity and headed straight to London.

Your two best girlfriends from base were with you. Teresa was one of the toughest nurses you’d ever come across. She could give you a wide grin, crinkles around her hazel eyes, and reset a broken bone without breaking a sweat. It helps that she was already working towards becoming a nurse back in New Mexico, the war just sped along that process. You had bonded over your love of books, giving each other recommendations almost weekly.

You’d met Irene on the boat to England. She puked on your shoes almost thirty minutes exactly after leaving the port in New York. You gave a small grin, offering her a handkerchief and a piece of ginger candy and the rest was history. Finding out that she was a fellow mechanic was the icing on the cake. Coming in at a whopping five foot two, the spritely blonde could easily be found in a crowd with her loud Appalachian accent.

It seemed almost like fate for the three of you to have found each other. Being some of the few women on base naturally made you close, but you were closer with Irene and Teresa than any of the others. That’s not to say that you weren’t friends with any of the men, because you were. Friendly.

All three of you were dressed to the nines, in contradiction to your everyday work wear. You all got ready together in your hotel room, giggling while you applied makeup here, spritzed some perfume there. You all felt confident and were ready to have a good time. You spotted some familiar faces and made your way over towards them, your friends linked arm-in-arm with you. Lemmons was the first to greet you.

Of the fifty men on the ground crew, Sgt. Ken Lemmons was the most welcoming of them all. From the get-go, he didn’t care if you were a man or woman. He just wanted to know that you were capable. You were sure he had to go through some hazing because of his age, which probably changed his perspective on gatekeeping the job. This made earning and maintaining respect a lot easier for the women on your crew. We all came over with the same goal, it was better for all if we just helped each other out.

“Hey Birdie! Nice to see you out and about.”

Ah, the famed nickname. You tend to hum and sing under your breath when elbow-deep in a project. It helps you pass the time and clear your mind. Of course, the rest of the ground crew quickly caught on to this habit of yours, which quickly earned you the nickname “Birdie”. You, of course, never sing solo in public, so this confuses anyone who’s not around you while you’re working. But the name stuck, so here you are. Birdie.

Chairs are quickly cleared for you and your friends, which you all graciously take. You go up to buy some drinks, knowing what your friends like, and quickly return with your drinks of choice. Conversation flows, laughs are shared, and a few drinking games are played over the next hours. Teresa soon speaks up on a topic you’d been hoping to avoid.

“Do you think he’ll be here tonight?”

You shrug and look into your drink, “Dunno. Why does it matter?”

Irene, the ever supportive best friend that she is, backs up Teresa. “What do you mean ‘why’? This is your chance to finally make a move!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You quickly deny, taking another sip.

An unladylike snort leaves Irene, “My ass! You and Major Egan have been making googly eyes at each other when you think the other’s not looking for months. I’m saying it’s time for you to perk your tits up, buck on over and ride that—!” You slam your drink on the table, pressing your hand over Irene’s mouth, heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment.

“Are you insane?” You whisper harshly, looking around to make sure no one overheard you. You seem to be in the clear, which makes you calm down a bit. Irene pushes off your hand, takes a swig of her drink, and consults the person who started this whole conversation.

“Am I wrong?” You look to Teresa, who cringes slightly in agreement.

You gape at the pair of them. Normally, you were the median between the two girls who had vastly differing opinions. But this is what made them come to a consensus? Unbelievable.

“Look, I’m not saying that I don’t want to.” You start, which makes your friends nod encouragingly at you. “It’s just that… Is he really as interested as you think he is?”

They both groan and slump against each other, like they’d just run a marathon. Teresa sits up, scooching your chair in closer so that the three of you were in a private triangle, cut off from the rest of the group.

“Let’s look at the facts here, okay?” Teresa starts to tick off a finger with each point she and Irene make. But you seem to always have a rebuttal at the ready.

“He brings you coffee every morning.”

“I thought he does that for everyone.”

“He constantly fixes his hair when you’re around.”

“He takes care of his appearance!”

“He walks you to the mess hall every day for dinner.”

“We just happen to be going the same way. And we happen to have the same dinner schedule.”

“He read The Hobbit when you said how much you loved it.”

“He’s an adventurous guy, it’s an adventurous book, what’s not to like about it?”

“You two literally will walk and talk outside alone for hours.”

“A man can’t have a stimulating conversation with a woman?”

“He laughs at all your dumb jokes.”

“Hey! They’re not all dumb. Like, the one with the goose and the—”

“Point proven. Anyways! He has your picture in the inside pocket of his jacket.”

That one stops you in your tracks. You brain tries to justify this meaning but comes up blank.

“He…” You struggle with an excuse. “He…” Your best friends give victorious smirks in your direction.

“He… likes the extra padding in his jacket?” You stutter over what is possibly the most pathetic, sorry excuse you could have ever come up with.

“When are you gonna admit to yourself that he likes you? Like, actually truly likes you?”

You gave a sad sigh, letting the insecurity you were feeling deep down come to the surface. “I just… He’s just so…” You had stomped down your feelings for so long that it was becoming hard to articulate what exactly you’re feeling.

“He just seems so unreal. Like, of everyone he could have chosen, why me? I mean, I know I’m great. But you’ve seen the other girls on base. They’re all so beautiful, smart, classy… and none of them are covered in engine oil ninety percent of the time.” You looked down at your hands, specks of grease and oil peeking out from beneath your nail beds. It seems like it would never completely wash out, no matter how hard you scrubbed. You hadn’t even painted your nails for this weekend, knowing it would be money wasted come Monday morning when you’re back on the clock.

Teresa and Irene share a look that you don’t see, then come forward and grab each of your hands.

“The words you just used to describe those girls. All of that is you, Birdie. That and more. You being a mechanic doesn’t make you any less of a woman, and to hell with anyone else who thinks otherwise.” You nodded in agreement, Irene’s words of encouragement slowly washing away your anxieties.

Teresa spoke up next, “You deserve someone who will rearrange the stars and the whole night sky for you. And I’m more than willing to bet that Major Egan is up for the job.”

“Besides, none of that 'unreal' stuff. At the end of the day, John Egan is nothing more than a man. If he can’t look past his nose and his d—" You gave a squeak to cover up the vulgar word Irene was about to blurt in public. She rolled her eyes fondly and continued.

“If he can’t see what you’re worth and make the effort to treat you a hundred times better than that? That’s on him. Not you. You know what you deserve, and you deserve everything you want. Absolutely everything.”

You sniffed, happy tears coming to your eyes. You brought your best friends in for a hug, thanking them profusely.

“Don’t sweat it,” Teresa grins into your shoulder “every girl needs to be pulled out of her well sometime.”

You pull back from the hug, grabbing your glass and tipping your head back, finishing the rest of your drink. “Even if he’s not gonna be here, let’s have a ball!” Your girlfriends cheer as the three of you go to the bar for refills.

One drink turns into two, which turns into a few more, and suddenly you’re buzzed. Your group are having a rambunctious time, Irene dancing by the local piano player. Once Irene looks over to you, she stops and whispers in the player’s ear. He nods, then starts a new tune. Irene starts up her voice, walking over to you and Teresa, encouraging you to join her.

The alcohol has loosened you up enough that you don’t feel the nausea you usually associate with being perceived, so you join in the harmonies you and your friends have practiced in your bunks at night.

He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way

He had a boogie style that no one else could play

He was the top man at his craft

But then his number came up and he was gone with the draft

Soon the whole pub was jumping and dancing along to the tune as you brought a new vibe to the pub. It was like a spark that started an entirely new night and everyone was eager to go on forever.

One song turns into an entire set, which ends with a full rendition of G.I. Jive, which had everyone singing along. It was a magical moment; made you feel like you were a part of something important.

Irene sidles up to you, giving you a hug. She says in your ear,

“I think it’s time to slow it down a bit. How about you sing that song I taught you.”

She means an old Appalachian folk song that’s been in her family for generations. You had heard her sing it one night and immediately loved the dark, but strong nature of the lyrics. It was an honor to learn it from her.

“I don’t know, it’s your family’s song and…”

“And I can’t think of anyone better to sing it to these soldiers.” You gave each other a look, her slight eyebrow raise gave you the courage to nod in acceptance. She smiled, hugging you again, her voice yelled out to the crowd.

“Birdie’s gonna sing solo!”

The announcement is met with raucous applause, Irene and Teresa shoving you towards a dodgy looking table. Crank offers a hand up, which you take gratefully. As you find your bearings on the tabletop, you quickly spin around and find all eyes on you.

The crackling energy in the air seemed to simmer, the fast-beating hearts of the pubgoers recognizing a moment to acknowledge you. Nausea starts to make an appearance, but a deep breath quells the sensation within you for the time being.

You take another deep breath. Inhale, exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

You close your eyes, open your mouth, and sing.

Meanwhile….

Majors Gale Cleven and John Egan walk down the familiar street, one eager to catch up with his fellow countrymen’s alcohol intake, the other just happy to spend time with his friends. They were arriving later to the festivities due to being caught up in filling out reports. By far the worst part of having a higher rank was the paperwork.

“It’s pretty quiet.” Buck acknowledges. “They’re usually rowdier by this point.”

Bucky sniffs, shrugging off the concern. “Ah, it’s probably nothing.”

As the two men approach the pub, they find that a crowd has formed. Soldiers, civilians, RAF, USAAF, old, young— people had obviously stopped to watch whatever was going on. It was dead silent, save for a voice singing. Was there a radio show on or something?

A familiar face peeks out at them from the crowd, DeMarco quickly waving them over.

Bucky is quick to question, “Hey, what’s going on?” but is immediately shushed by nearby crowd members. Buck cringes in apology, despite not being the one to disturb the peace. His best friend, ever unshaken by the opinion of strangers, carries on.

DeMarco leans in, whispering, “Your girl’s taking us all to church.”

“My girl..?” Bucky’s nose scrunches in confusion. He makes space through the crowd and quickly makes sense of DeMarco’s words. It was you.

I’ll catch you up

When I’ve emptied my cup

When I’ve worn out my friends

When I’ve burned out both ends

Standing on a tabletop, watchful eyes sat all around you like baby ducks flocking to their mama. You were captivating everyone with each note and word that flows from your mouth. Damn, you've got a set of pipes— a voice that belongs on the radio, in concert halls, on Hollywood records. He had no idea.

His little Birdie.

“Wow.” Buck mutters in awe from behind him, and Bucky couldn’t be more in agreement.

When I’m pure like a dove

When I’ve learned how to love

He hadn’t noticed before, but her eyes were closed. Like she needed to concentrate on each and every breath she took, every single movement her body made, before letting them out in an angelic melody.

As if by divine intervention, her eyes pop open and lock on his as she belts “how to love”

It could’ve been an eternity, for all he knows, the amount of time that they spent locked in each other’s gaze. The world pauses around them, everything frozen. Her eyes were already the kind to knock a man clean off his feet with a single gaze, but he thinks- for a brief moment- that his heart completely stops beating.

John Clarence Egan would swear every day from then on, until his dying breath, that the course of his life was altered in that very moment. He knew how it would continue from then on, and how it would end. How he wanted it to end.

Then the world starts back up and carries on.

Right here in the old therebefore

When nothing is left anymore

Her final hums are joined by a short blonde woman who stands nearby, another face he recognizes from base.

The applause that picks up after the end of the song is near deafening. The star of the hour gives a shy smile, a quick curtsy and is given a hand to step down from the table.

Everyone soon starts mingling, the normal chatter of the bar returning. But Bucky is stuck in his spot, dumbfounded. In all the conversations you’d had together, somehow this never came up. He should’ve put two and two together, as he recalls overhearing your hums one morning as he made his daily coffee delivery to you. But you had been caught off guard, so much so that you tripped off the ladder you stood on and fell. Luckily, his quick reflexes kicked in to catch you before any serious injuries occurred.

Remembering the sensation of his hands on your waist and thighs, face just inches from yours, sent his brain into a tailspin. That’s not even considering just how damn cute you were when, after a beat, you turned away from him and playfully mourned the cups of coffee that were splattered all over the hardstand.

“John. John?” A hand waving in front of his face knocks him out of his reverie. He blinks once, twice. Then looks to his best friend.

His voice comes out uncharacteristically weak in response, to which he then clears his throat and corrects. “Yes—yeah?” He pops the collar of his sheepskin jacket to try and hide the rampant red of his ears that signals the heat radiating from them.

Buck just shakes his head and gives him a knowing smile. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Egan. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“See what day?” Bucky starts to consciously return to his body, leaning on the bar.

“The day when a girl finally knocks you on your ass. I knew you had a thing for her, but that?” He points to his face and motions to indicate where they had just been standing. “That’s something else. That’s something real.”

Bucky gives another shrug in response, to which Buck throws back an unconvinced frown. He turns his head to gaze over the pub patrons and is distracted by you once again. Any denial he was about to spout immediately dies in his mouth when you lock eyes with him again and give him a dazzling smile. The world starts to fade away again.

His heart pumps faster in his chest at the sight. Damnit. He sighs, telling his best friend the truth he’s been privately wrestling with for a while now, all the while keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“I know, Buck. I know.”

Bucky smiles back at you and is elated when your face lights up. You give him a wave.

“She kinda snuck up on me.”

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inmyicyworld · 9 months

Text

Wakanda

pt. 2

Summary: You visit Bucky in Wakanda, and the hidden feelings are finally coming out.

Words count: 2.6k.

Warnings: smut, best friends to lovers, Bucky has one arm, he's insecure, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, pet names.

Author’s note: I finally wrote this because this scenario couldn't let me sleep peacefully. I also have an idea for the second part (with Bucky’s new arm🤭), so I'll write it if you like this part <3

*English is not my first language, sorry if you find any mistakes*

masterlist my ao3 ko-fi

You finally got permission to visit Bucky in Wakanda again since he was permanently living there to get rid of the Winter Soldier program and learn how to live a normal life again. You were there only three times because Princess Shuri and Ayo insisted that too much contact with other people might distract Bucky.

The last time you were there with Steve and, even if you loved him to death, you couldn't deny the disappointment that you barely spent any time with Bucky alone. He was your best friend since you and Steve saved him in Bucharest, and you had the biggest crush on him for about the same amount of time.

You jumped right into his arms as soon as you walked down the hill and saw him standing near the lake. He hugged you back, burying his face into your neck, and it was truly the moment that you never wanted to end. Bucky smelled like fresh air mixed with some kind of seasoning, and fuck, he looked good. In traditional Wakandian clothes that were covering his missing arm too, a low bun on the back of his head with a few springs of hair around his face, and smooth and tanned skin from the work under the sun.

You two quickly moved to his hut with the food that you bought at the local cafe owned by a sweet old man. And somewhere after that, when you were eating on the floor covered with many blankets and colorful pillows and talking about your lives, everything went downhill.

Food was forgotten. Somehow you ended up sitting on Bucky’s lap while you were connected in the most passionate and dirty kiss you ever had. Your hands were tightly holding his face, and his right one had a strong grip on your waist to hold you closer.

“Bucky…” You moaned in his mouth while your hips were grinding into his hardness, which was so obvious through the clothes. You both were so lost in the moment, sharing a desperate kiss full of tongues and teeth, trying to get to each other as close as possible.

It felt so right, like it was supposed to happen a long time ago, and now all of your feelings just couldn't be kept inside.

Bucky couldn't help but groan under his breath when your hand slipped into his hair, completely destroying his low bun. Your nails on his scalp felt majestic, and his brain became fuzzy with your gentle yet confident touches. Bucky moved his hand from your waist to your thigh, squeezing the soft and warm skin a little bit lower than your shorts.

When he pulled away, you tried to follow his mouth, almost addicted to the taste and the feeling of his lips on yours.

“Fuck, doll, that’s not how I imagined it.” His face became sad and almost apologetic, and you saw that the corners of his now red lips moved downward in disappointment. “Not here, not with only one arm... Fuck, I can’t even touch you the way I want to.” His hand tightened on your hip, and you gave him a sad smile. Not that those things mattered to you, but your heart still hurt because Bucky felt that way.

“I don’t care about it. I just want you, Bucky, if you want me too, of course.” Your voice was soft and gentle, soothing his nerves a little bit.

“You can’t imagine how much I want it, but I can’t do much with one hand; fuck, it’s so bad, I’m sorry...” Bucky’s eyes closed and his head fell lower, but you could still see a pink flush on his cheeks.

“Bucky, I want it; I want you, and your hand is not a problem, okay?” He deeply inhaled when your hands took his face and your lips were back on his. The kiss wasn’t so harsh and desperate; it was more deep and passionate, like you both tried to feel each other. “Why don’t you just lay back on the pillows, and I’ll do everything?” You bit your lip, suddenly feeling slightly nervous, and put your right hand on his chest, pushing Bucky back on the pile of pillows behind him so he was sitting in a reclined position.

You saw the hesitation in his eyes, and you waited a few seconds, gently rubbing your fingers over his beard, so he could process your idea.

“Okay.”

You got closer, sitting more comfortably on top of him. One of your hands pressed onto the pillows near Bucky’s body, and the other one landed on his firm chest, playing with the red clothes that he was wearing. Bucky lifted his hand, gently grabbing your face and kissing you again. His soft lips and slow movements of his tongue inside your mouth made you moan into a kiss.

“Can I take it off?” You mumbled, slightly pulling down the red material. More of his soft, tanned skin was shown, and you tried to hold yourself together and not overstep the line. Bucky’s pupils were dilated, almost completely hiding your favorite blues. He was closely watching your moving lips, as if he couldn’t get enough.

“Mhm, but— please, can we leave this on?” He pointed to his shoulder, covered in blue material.

“If you feel more comfortable that way, then we can. But we don’t have to, if you suggest it only because of me.” You started to untangle his clothes, still watching his face to notice any signs of discomfort.

“Just leave it on, okay?”

“Okay.” As you removed the clothes from his chest, leaving the cover on his left shoulder, allowing you to see his perfectly sculpted body, your lips left soft kisses on Bucky’s cheek, going down to his neck and to his abs. You stopped there, feeling how the body underneath you tensed, and his hand gripped the duvet so hard that his knuckles became white. “Bucky?”

“‘M okay, it’s just been so long for me. Didn’t get used to feeling that way. And I want you so bad, doll, I can’t even explain it.” He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. You felt that his cock was painfully hard underneath you, and just thinking about touching it made you ten times wetter.

“You can have me, Bucky. Do you want me to take the rest of our clothes?” You moved your hips a little bit, getting an almost desperate whine from Bucky. He looked so good like this: slightly disheveled hair, flushed cheeks, red lips, and eyes full of lust and need. And he was completely yours, fuck.

“Yes, please.”

You placed a quick kiss on his lips before getting up. Bucky’s eyes were following your every move as you took off your shorts and t-shirt, staying in the cooling air only in your simple black underwear. But Bucky was looking at you like you were the most delicious and precious thing in the world, like he wanted to make love to you and completely destroy your body at the same time.

“Doll– fuck, everything else too, please.” He licked his lips, unconsciously moving his hips from the lack of attention. Your eyes slipped to his crotch, seeing how his cock was very visible through layers of clothes.

You just smiled at his desperation but still reached to the back to unclip your bra and then slide your panties down your legs. You didn’t waste any more time, going back to Bucky and finally completely taking off his clothes.

“Holy fuck…” Your mouth went completely dry when you pulled down his black boxers. You never found this part of a man’s body that attractive, but it was the prettiest dick you had ever seen. Thick and long, with a vein going around it and a slight curve towards his press. The shiny drop of pre-cum on the head made you instantly want to lick it, but the mumble of your name and calloused hand on the lower part of your back brought your attention back to Bucky.

“You’re going to kill me, doll. C’mere, please, I want– need to touch you. Need to kiss you.” Before you could even say something or move, his hand slipped under your ass and, without much effort, lifted you on top of him. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. I want to worship you and make you feel good; I’m so sorry that I can’t.”

“Bucky,” you said, laying down on his chest. “I promise that when you get your new arm, I’ll let you fuck me however you want to, okay? But for now, I want to take care of you.” The feeling of your hard nipples pressing against his firm chest sent shivers down your spine, and the hand on your back made you want to grind on Bucky like a bitch in heat. “Please, touch me, baby.”

“You shouldn’t say shit like this to me, doll. I won’t let you go until you can’t even fucking think straight. Fuck– how are you so soft…” Bucky’s hand was now exploring your body, gripping your ass, tracing your stomach, and going straight to your sensitive boobs. He never wanted to have both arms as much as he does now, to touch every curve of your body and find everything that makes you feel good.

“Bucky!” Your hands pressed against his chest, and your head fell back with a moan when he pinched your nipple in between his fingers. He chuckled softly before sliding his hand down, right to your dripping core.

“Doll, look at you.” His eyes were glued to the place where his fingers traced your folds. “Is this all for me?”

“Y-yes, Bucky, please…” You almost cried at the feeling that he gave you. Even if it was a long time for him, Bucky definitely didn’t forget how to please a woman. Your legs desperately wanted to close from the stimulation on the clit, but since you were spread on top of him, you couldn’t do anything but whine and dig your nails into the hot skin under your hands. “Don’t tease me, just— Fuck!”

“Taking my fingers so good, doll.” You knew that he was smiling because of your reaction as two thick digits slid inside of you, filling you so well but not enough at the same time. “You’re already ready for my cock, huh? Wanna feel how this pretty pussy stretches around me. C'mon, baby, help me.” Bucky moved his hips upward, and you felt how his dick was pressing on your ass.

“You have a dirty mouth, Barnes.” You laughed before reaching to the back, grabbing his cock, and lifting your body at the same time. You put the tip at your entrance, running his length through your folds and letting the head bump your clit as he collected your wetness, until you both couldn’t handle the teasing anymore. Bucky put his hands on your ass, pressing on top and allowing you to slowly take him inside of you.

It was too much. The burn of him stretching you was slightly painful, but it made you feel so full, as if the two pieces of puzzles finally added up. You both moaned, your head fell back, and you tried to go slowly and adjust to his size.

Bucky’s hand tightened on your hip, probably leaving red marks. He breathed deeply to control his fast-beating heart. You felt so fucking good, all wet and tight for him, that it was hard not to move his hips into you. But it was obvious that you needed some time based on your tensed body and slightly opened mouth.

“Bucky…” Your eyes were flattering, not being able to completely focus on his face. You thought that you could just fuck him and take control, but you didn’t expect to be this cock drunk before either of you even made a move.

“So pretty lookin’ like this baby.”

“‘M so full…” You moaned, gripping Bucky’s hand and interlacing your fingers.

You found a comfortable position, holding yourself with one hand on Bucky’s chest. The first movement of your hips was shocking, sending goosebumps all over your body. You both loudly moaned when you moved up, until he almost slipped out of you, and then down, burying his cock deeply inside.

Bucky’s lower half slightly moved up when his non-existent left arm wanted to grab your hips, and you must’ve noticed the disappointment and anger written on his face because you leaned a little bit lower and freed your hand from his grip, moving it to his face.

“That’s okay, Buck, just relax, please? Don’t worry.” You cooed in the softest voice. Your hips started to slowly move at a stable pace.

“You’re so perfect, baby.” He mumbled, and you felt that his body started to thrust into yours, so his cock perfectly touched your g-spot.

It became more intense with every minute. The little hut was filled with the smell of sex and the sound of your moans, combined with the skin slapping. You were too desperate for each other, trying to reach your climaxes but not wanting this moment to end.

Bucky tried to touch you as much as possible; he wanted to make you feel good, give you satisfaction, and fulfill his own needs in your presence. He moved his hand from your ass to your stomach and boobs, then to your face, bringing you closer for another hot and passionate kiss. He was all over you, hungry to get more and to remember every centimeter of your perfect body.

You two moved in perfect rhythm, meeting each other's movements.

“Please, Bucky– it’s so good, fu-uck, I’m gonna cum.” You cried out loud, feeling that your body was starting to go numb from your approaching orgasm.

“Such a good pussy, takin’ me so well. ‘M close too, baby; ride my cock, c’mon. Get what you need.” He slapped your ass, encouraging you to move faster. “So pretty wrapped around me. Can I cum inside you, hm? You’ll let me feel you up?”

Your head quickly nodded while you didn’t break eye contact with the man in front of you. Bucky bit his lip, trying to control himself and get you to the finish first, but you looked so fucking good on top of him, with your boobs jumping up and down, that he knew he couldn’t hold himself any longer. So he brought his hand to the lower part of your stomach, pressing his thumb against your swollen clit.

That was the breaking point for you. You completely lost control over your body, barely being able to stay still when the waves of pleasure were breaking through you.

“Good girl. You can almost feel me in your stomach, yeah?” Bucky’s palm was feeling every thrust of his dick with the palm of his hand, and it felt fucking insane. “Fu-u-uck, you’re squeezing the shit out of me, ‘m not gonna last longer.” He moaned, losing his rhythm too, while you fell down on his chest, too overwhelmed and overstimulated.

You felt the last movement of his hips until he froze, moaning into your ear, and emptied himself deeply inside of your spasming pussy. You unconsciously continued to squeeze around his cock, getting every single drop, as if your body was greedy to get more of his load.

“I don’t feel m’ body…” You mumbled, already feeling sleepy, and wrapped your hands around Bucky’s body.

“Sleep, baby.” The soft material fell on your back, covering your naked bodies. You felt a light kiss on top of your head, and Bucky’s arm hugged your back, holding you closer to him.

You couldn’t be sure, but right before you drifted to sleep, you heard something that weirdly sounded like “I love you.”

pt.2

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky x female reader #james buchanan barnes #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #sebastian stan #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky smut #one shot #smut #x reader

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b0ther · 2 months

Text

ain't even jealousy

you fucking hate the basketball team, but there's no one you hate more than aomine.

pairing : aomine daiki x reader (feminine pronouns. afab) rating : explicit, not safe for work (sexual content) type : chaptered tags : aomine is a bully im not even kidding he is quite cruel, porn with PLOT, reader is besties with satsuki, reader also has a crush on imayoshi, reader also was wakamatsu's ex, hate sex, semi-public sex, manhandling, vaginal penetration, thigh fucking, semi-clothed sex, some slutshaming going on here, reader has big tits, slight dubcon. word count : 4,323

author's note : title from 'want u back' by cher lloyd. this is comissioned by a dear friend. hope you enjoy mwah. this first chapter (and whole fic im ngl) is centered around the onsen episode.

( masterlist │ ask/request │ ao3 )

After a long and hard day at school, all that you ever really want to do is to quickly get to your part-time job and finish up your shift. Perhaps you can get some convenient store food after that, or go straight home to shower and rest.

Whatever it is that you daydreamed of, it wasn't this.

Satsuki calls out to you, her voice soft against the bristling wind with her lithe arms circle around yours as you try to walk away, dragging her body forcefully with you. She whines your name over and over again, over the beating speaker against your ears before you finally had enough, ripping your headphones off your head, turning to face her.

“Satsuki!” You try to sound stern, but you end up whining in the same tone that she used. You can only be so serious as a high school girl, after all.

Her pink strands fall against her face messily; you use your other hand to tuck them behind her ear as she elongates the way she enunciates your name and begs, begs, begs you to listen to her. “Please! Just—”

“Satsuki!” You groan, shaking her off your body. “I’m busy. I have a part-time job, I’m failing maths, I have club activities. I can’t just… ditch everything and go !”

“You can!” It’s like she was not listening to a single word that you uttered. “It’s a month away and on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday—which you can begin asking for a leave day starting today , they will definitely let you if you do it a month in advance!—and maths!? That’s easy! I’ll teach you!”

You slant your eyes at her, arms crossing on your chest. “Alright. What about my club activities?”

“You mean your journalist club? One that encourages their members to leave their comfort zone in order to bring back interesting stories? One that basically has a crush on the basketball team?”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, don’t be dramatic.”

She gasps. “Don’t you love me!?”

“Don’t do this to me…”

“If you love me at all, you wouldn’t even think twice about going with me. Imagine me, a girl, going alone on an all-boys’ trip to some secluded place—”

“You’re being dramatic—” You tried reiterating your point.

“I’m not!” She whines, even louder this time, attracting attention from all the other Touou students around you. “You literally have nothing to lose by coming along! Give me five reasons—five good reasons—and I will literally stop bothering you.”

You shake her off again, and this time, Satsuki lets go and stumbles back a couple of steps as the mischief on her eye continues to shimmer. You have never lost an argument to Satsuki—but there is a first for everything, and you have a feeling that you are going to break some personal records today.

“First,” you take a deep breath as you hold up a finger. “Aomine’s gonna be there—”

“Perfect!” Not giving you a chance to speak, she cuts you off, eyes glimmering like starlight. “You like him!”

She strikes a nerve with this one.

One of your eyes twitches as you cross your arms under your chest. The excited smile on her face fades in an instant, recognizing in an instant that something is wrong.

Recognizing in an instant that something she should have known about is wrong.

She blinks a couple of times, trying to use all that intelligence in her head to analyse the error in what she said (which turns out pretty useless—guess all that she is good for is basketball).

“Have you been paying attention at all?” You begin to blabber after letting out a huge gasp, arms waving around in the air. “We’ve been friends for years— years ! Since the first year of middle school, and you know nothing of my strong, burning opinion of Aomine!? Flash news, Satsuki, it’s not love!”

“You—” She stammers, “You talk about him a lot!”

“I complain about him a lot!” You correct her, blowing out air in frustration, feeling somewhat betrayed that your best friend had just accused you of liking your archnemesis… your enemy… your… your rival.

The point is! You hate him!

You would rather live in a world without television and the internet and good music if it means that you will have to never hear him say another word.

Aomine.

You shiver in annoyance.

Just saying his name irks the hell out of you. Imagining his face causes a feeling close to that of an explosion in your chest. You just wanna grab him by his face and shove him down a flight of stairs.

You cannot even count all the shitty things he did to you in high school: revealing your crush on Nijimura Shuuzou not just to the then-basketball team captain, but the entire student body; tripping you in the cafeteria multiple times; stealing your undergarments during P.E. and commenting crassly about how you were two sizes under his favourite adult model. Granted, you never told Satsuki about the last thing. That shit was just too embarrassing—you were glad that no one else was in the room when he threw your bra back at you.

Still, your frustration remains at her. Jogging down memory lane boils your wrath, and you close your eyes to calm yourself down.

He’s just a bully.

A damned bully.

And you would be damned if you are going to willingly spend your weekends in the same vicinity as him.

“Well… Dai-chan likes you!”

You roll your eyes.

Yeah, right.

You would agree if she had claimed that he found you attractive, or he thinks you’re hot. But liking you? Highly improbable—impossible, even.

Aomine Daiki does not seem like he is capable of feeling any emotion aside from boredom and mischief. The only thing he loves, or even likes, is probably his beloved Aya-chan from his gravure magazines.

You’re not even sure if he still likes basketball.

Which is a shame—seeing someone so tall gradually shrinking to the size of nothing, even if you despise the guy, the whole ordeal with whatever-the-fuck Satsuki’s basketball team went through still managed to extract some sympathy from the bottom of your heart. You’ve been paying attention to Aomine, after all, albeit not under any positive light.

“Whatever,” from past experiences, you know better than to argue against Satsuki. “I don’t care anymore. And you know what? Aomine himself and your blatant disregard of your best friend’s feelings—me!—should be enough to fit all five criterias!”

You know that look in her eyes, the way her lips press against each other and how one of her hands is clenched into a fist.

“I’ve been friends with him for 16 years, (Y/N),” she bumps her fist against her chest in pride. “Best friends, even! I know him better than you do!”

You scoff. “People who like someone don’t bully them, Satsuki. Open your eyes.”

“He isn’t bullying you!” She groans.

“Oh, so now not only are you attempting to kidnap me, but you’re also defending my bully?”

“Argh!” Satsuki hugs your arm again, earning her a groan from you. She calls out your name again, enunciating each and every syllable. “ Pleeeaaaaseeee? You don’t have to pay a single dime! You don’t even have to see Dai-chan if you want to. Imayoshi-san will be there—you like him, right?”

You slant your eyes at her in suspicion, not buying anything she just told you. You just know that you will have to see Aomine sooner or later if you come with her to the onsen.

“No man is ever worth that much headache, Satsuki.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, still shaking you ferociously. “But it’s Imayoshi-san!”

You decided to come along. Because of course you did.

It’s either that, or Satsuki pestering you for the rest of the month, bringing either Imayoshi or Aomine or whoever she thinks will get your attention.

And Imayoshi Shouichi? Sure. He’s hot as hell.

But is he worth dealing with Aomine?

You like to think not.

Satsuki dragged you along to a basketball team meeting—the one that would be discussing the practice trip and the whole onsen ordeal.

It wasn’t like you needed to be there at all. You know just a little more than the average person about basketball. All that you were preparing for the onsen was your clothes and deciding whether it’s you or Satsuki who should be bringing her hairdryer.

“Why me?” You said, crossing your arms when the attention of the entire basketball team was redirected towards you, and Imayoshi laughed. The only problem they were facing was convincing Aomine to come along.

And you were happy with not being the babysitter. You were happy with twiddling your skirt as you sat on the edge of the stage of the hall, scrolling down your social media timeline as the team argued on how to get that blue-haired freak into coming.

That was until Satsuki ruined your afternoon by offering up your name.

To your surprise, everyone in the team seemingly agreed almost immediately to offer you as a sacrificial lamb to feed Aomine’s ego and coax him to at least come to the trip.

“He likes you,” Wakamatsu scoffed when you asked why, and you glared at him, but said nothing. Out of respect, you guess, to the upperclassman. It’s not like you respect him, though. You’re on bad terms with a lot of the basketball team, but no matter your disagreements with Wakamatsu, you will never dislike him the way you loathe Aomine.

“He does have a soft spot for you,” Imaoyshi mused as he flashed you a smile—and lord , you cannot say no to Imayoshi. Especially when he’s being so nice.

You saw Satsuki smirking from the corner of your eyes and internally cursed her.

That was how you found yourself climbing the ladder leading to the rooftop.

And that was how you found Aomine with one hand between his backpack and head, and the other holding an obscene magazine.

He doesn’t even spare you a single glance—probably thought you were another manager or even worse: Satsuki again. But the moment you open your mouth to call out to him, his head snaps in your direction, an eyebrow raised in amusement as he pushes himself to rest his body against his elbows.

“What are you doing here?”

You try not to let your rage spill. You try to keep the boiling water down. You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and continue to climb the ladder before approaching him.

Think rational, you think to yourself, he hadn’t even said anything yet.

“The Captain wants to see you,” you manage to say between your gritted teeth, staring down at him before looking away. Imayoshi didn’t ask you to make Aomine see him, but Aomine probably respects Imayoshi more than you, so you try to throw him under the bus just to get out of the situation quicker.

“Imayoshi-san?” He frowns before repeating his initial question: “What the fuck are you doing here?”

I want to punch him.

“You own this roof or something?”

“Calm down,” he scoffs, tilting his head before eyeing your body up and down. You shift your weight into your other leg, ignoring the uneasy feeling on the pit of your stomach. “I just wanted to know.”

Sighing, you glance up at the sunny sky, sweat starting to form on the base of your neck and you are dying to leave at that very moment. You shelter your eyes from the sunlight, despite finding it more appealing than Aomine’s face.

“We’re discussing the practice trip thing—whatever, and also the onsen trip,” you lazily explain, not bothering to hide your disinterest. “Imayoshi-senpai wants you to be present for the meeting. Obviously.”

You cannot fathom the fact that you were explaining his basic responsibilities as a club member to him. What a fucking child.

“You coming with us?”

His focus seems to be misplaced, and you glare at the sky, imagining it was his stupid face.

“I’m going with Satsuki,” you correct, still not willing to look at him. “I don’t give two shits about you or the basketball team.”

“Hey,” he sits up, wrapping his fingers around your wrist before tugging your body towards him. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

You scoff, finally letting your gazes meet before pulling your hand away. “Fuck off.”

He, in fact, does not fuck off.

Aomine pulls on your wrist again, this time hard enough for you to lose your balance and fall, your knees landing on the coarse floor as the bottom of your skirt rides up your thighs. The skin of your knees scraping against the gravelled surface and you curse, jerking your hand away only to immediately shove his shoulder.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” You shriek, annoyed at how he remains unmoving even as you push him again.

He towers you, even when sitting, and keeps his eyes peering down at you.

Maybe it’s the heat that day; summer has just ended, but even the soft Autumn breeze cannot conceal the searing flare creeping up the skin of your cheeks. Aomine slants his eyes and grabs your wrist yet again—you weren’t quick enough to retract away from his athletic instincts, and so, you fall again when he pulls you in closer.

You hiss in pain as your knees drag more against the floor, desperate to find your balance only to grab on his shoulders.

“Hey,” He calls out to you, a lame attempt for your attention. “Look,” he says again, and your dumb ass looks.

He grabs the magazine on his lap and tautens the pages together, showing you the spread where he left off before you interrupted his peaceful afternoon. “(Y/N), remember Aya-chan?”

The girl that ruined your life?

How can you forget?

You cannot hide the distaste in your eyes as your eyes scan her beautiful, black hair falling against the sheer material of her white uniform top. The black lace bra she was wearing underneath is apparent as she pushes her two tits against each other, legs spread to reveal an equally seductive pattern on her panties.

Before you even realise, Aomine’s arm begins to wrap itself around your waist as he holds you up, fingers creeping up the side of your torso, tracing invisible lines before resting on one of your breasts. Your stomach begins to churn in excitement, embarrassingly enough, and you press your legs instinctively when the muscle between your thighs tighten as he continues fondling you.

You circle your arm around his neck under the pretence of keeping your balance.

“Mhmm…” He clicks his tongue, resting his face on the side of your upper arm—his nose touching the side of your tit as his hand palms your other one. “I feel like you’re no longer two sizes under Aya-chan. Maybe a size under? Maybe the same size?”

You grit your teeth. “You talk big. Have you ever seen her outside your magazine? She probably edits her photos.”

He grins, gaze shifting to drink in your frustration. “No, but you’re real, and I’m groping you right now. Isn’t that better?”

“Better than your pretty Aya-chan?”

Aomine raises an eyebrow, humming knowingly. You can’t even believe the word escaping your mouth.

“You have a cute side to you after all,” He muses after a short, mocking whistle. “What do you want me to say? Want me to tell you how much better you are than her?”

“Want you to shut the fuck up.”

“Calm down, tiger.” He laughs, pulling away from your arm. He tosses the magazine to the side, straightening his back to press a short kiss to the peak of your cheekbone. His hand begins to work; he slowly kneads your breast while continuously trailing kisses down to your ears. Your nipples brush against the fabric of your damned lace bra, and he stops for a moment only to tug on where your bud is protruding.

A whimper leaves your mouth.

“Excited are we?” He whispers, voice dropping lower as he presses his lips against your ears. “I like hearing you like that.”

“Shut up,” you run out of words, turning your head to the other side, exposing your neck to him. Which turns out to be a bad idea, as he takes it as a sign to sweep his tongue over the skin of your neck.

“A–Aomine—”

“God,” he chuckles. “Who would’ve guessed that you can be this sexy?”

He pulls away from your neck, and drags his hand from your tits to rub against your torso, feeling the material of your uniform. He presses one hand on the small of your back, pressing his forehead against yours. In a swift motion, he pulls on your body, drawing out a squeak as he lays you down against the concrete floor.

“What if…” he trails, rubbing a thumb under your eye as he hovers over rested body. Your cheeks sear with heat, alongside your chest and the pulsating on your cunt. “...I just fuck you right here?”

“W-what?” You whimper.

He laughs. “I’m hard as hell. You made me this way.”

“You were the one groping my tits!”

“You liked it,” he shrugs, pushing himself off of you, forcing both your legs open as he moves between them. His fingers begin to unbutton your uniform, unravelling the bra you are wearing underneath. Sucking in a deep breath, he stops midway down your torso, and without taking his eyes off your chest, he asks, “Want me to stop?”

Your cheeks flare, and you don’t answer him. You don;t even look at him.

He takes a quick glance at your expression.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’.”

“...Whatever.”

A wide smirk forms on his face, fingers continuing to unbutton your uniform all the way down.

“Do me a favour and get up for a bit,” he murmurs, pressing one of his hands against your back once again to get you to sit up. The feeling of his palm against your bare skin sends you to shivers, coupled with the soft wind whistling between the two of you.

“What’re you—”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as his fingers fumble with the hook of your bra. It took him two wrong moves before getting it right with the third—the fabric loosens around your body, and you pull him closer to conceal your humiliated expression.

“See,” Aomine chuckles after some awkward motion, tossing your stupid bra to the side when he finally gets it off. “You’re so pretty like this.”

“Shut up,” you groan, nails digging into his skin deeper and deeper.

He pulls himself away from your grip, taking a nice hold on your torso to pull your ass up his lap, letting you fall against the hard floor again.

“Goddamn,” he mutters, roaming his touches against your legs. His eyes cannot leave the heaves of your jugs.

“Stop fucking staring,” your hiss, trying to pull your uniform together, hiding your chest away from him.

Aomine scoffs, using one hand to unbuckle his pants. Your eyes travelled from his face to the loose button on his collar to the wet stain on the grey briefs around his hips to the bulge underneath them.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

He tilts his head at your question, furrowing his eyebrows as he takes his cock out from under his briefs. “Fucking you?”

The precum leaks from the tip of his cock, little drops of white strings rolling down his length. He pulls your hips closer to his body and presses it flat against your soaked panties.

He groans at the contact. Your warm slick welcomes him entirely as he presses more against the fabric, rubbing his tip along the length of your pussy.

“S’that feel good?” He whispers, hastily hooking his fingers on your panties, pulling it up your legs, then tossing it to go with your bra. He presses his arm on the side of your head, leaning into you again.

“Don’t put it in,” you whine, trying to hold back your hips from rolling. “You’re gonna get me pregnant.”

“You can’t say shit like that,” he groans against your neck. He positions the tip of his cock against your cunt, and even with your sopping lips, you aren’t sure if you are ready to accommodate his size at all.

“You don’t want to be a teen dad,” you bite your lower lip, hand going to rub his neck.

“I wanna fuck you, though,” he breathes, using his thumb to run along your wet slit. “Wanna fuck you raw, wanna cum inside’a you.”

You tremble with his words, feeling two of his fingers now circling your pussy. “D— don’t be stupid.”

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers, making your cunt wish it has something to tighten around. “D’you know how long I’ve been wanting to get you like this?”

He pushes himself off of you, and holds your wounded knees as he watches your chest heaves, heavy tits rolling with every staggered breath. He flips your skirt over, exposing even more of your cunt to the chill.

He rubs his length against your slick, his tip now pushing against your swelling clit. “I’d jack off and wonder if you were tighter than my fist,” he wraps his cock with his hand and places it again on your entrance, pushing in a slow, deliberate motion.

Between your drooping eyelids, you saw him inaudibly mutter a curse.

“Used to wanna fight Wakamatsu ‘cus he’d stuff this pussy all he wanted. Right?” He scoffs with a stupid, satisfied smile that you wish you could wipe off his face. “Shame that you broke it off, huh? Did he dump you when he realised how much of a whore you are?”

“Shut up…”

“Well, I don’t care. More fun for me.”

“Aomine—“

“Who else have you fucked in the basketball team?” He grunts. “In Touou?”

“Shut— shut the…”

You slap the back of your hand against your mouth—not willing at all to let him hear you be satisfied with his size—biting down on the flesh as he pushes his cock in. All of his cock in.

“Aomine—”

His cock is dragging against your wall, kissing every possible inch of your insides. Your hole continues to burn as he stretches you wide open, draining every last bit of energy from inside of you.

“ F-fuck…”

Your hand goes to fondle your own tit, rolling your hard nipple between your fingers, sloppily trying to garner more and more pleasure. His dick fills you more and more, stuffing you full, before finally stopping.

“Don’t act all reserved now,” he raises an eyebrow as you mewl out his name. He stays still for a moment, a bud of sweat rolling down his temple before pulling out of your homey cunt. “You don’t have to lie.”

Aomine bites his lips, letting his cock rest between your pussy lips. He sees the way they engulf his dick, moving his hips to rub against your core.

“Letting me fuck you on the school rooftop,” he murmurs, “where’s your fucking self-respect? Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if this isn’t your first time getting dicked down up here.”

Your eyes slant up at him, but he quickly shuts down any of your retaliation by pressing his thumb flat against your clit, slowly circling the nub. Your teeth press down hard on your bottom lips.

“We aren’t— we are not …” You babble, putting a thumb between your teeth to stop yourself from moaning, “...having sex.”

He scoffs, drinking in how your eyes roll with your head turned to the side.

“I was inside you just a moment ago.”

Filthy noise of his cock squelching against your cunt filled the air—if someone were to come after you, they would hear Aomine’s dick fucking your pussy lips.

“Fuck,”Aomine spits, pressing your legs tightly against each other then down on your lips.

“A-ah,” You gasp as he drills into your thighs, the tip of his cock rubbing quick and hard against your swollen clit. “Oh my God—”

“Are you cummin’?” He breathes, one hand reaching to roll your tit on his hand. “Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, and you whine at the nickname. He snickers, “You’re so sexy like this, y’know that?”

Your back arches, little whimpers of encouragement swallow your pride whole as you fall completely into him. Aomine grunts at the expression, seeing the lewd expression on your face. He picks up the pace, slamming his hips against your ass.

“M’gonna cum,” he hisses. “Fuck. Wish I could shoot my load into your tight little cunt.”

“Fuck it,” you manage to spit between your groans, “F-fuck it. Just— oh God, just don’t stop—”

Your words rile him up even more—he tightens his grip on your leg, his fingers bruising your fragile skin. Your head begins to spin. Your slam your fists against the ground and your mind numbing orgasm comes the moment strings of Aomine’s thick, white cum comes flying down your skirt and stomach.

“Shit,” he loosens the grip on your legs, letting them fall even with your still convulsing ass and core. His gaze stays on the tip of his dick, the white cum oozing from it, then to your face—your parted lips, dumb eyes, and the sweat dripping down the side of your head down your neck.

He feels himself getting harder as he watches your plump lips whine, wondering how they would wrap around his thick length, if the colour of your lipstick would stain the veins of his cock.

“You coming to the onsen trip?” Aomine tries to distract himself.

You roll over, blindly reaching out for the bra that he tossed God knows where.

“Fuck you.”

#knb #one-shot #chaptered: ain't even jealousy #commissioned #aomine #aomine daiki #kuroko no basuke #kuroko no basket #kuroko's basketball #smut #aomine smut #aomine x reader #aomine x you #knb smut #aomine x reader smut

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ugh-yoongi · 5 months

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so sorry it took me a few days to get this together for you, but i hope you enjoy some of these!

most of these works contain mature themes/content. please heed tags and do not engage with any explicit work if you are a minor!

i'm sure there are a bunch i've forgotten, so please feel free to reblog and share your own work and your faves!

also, please note: there are a lot of fics on these lists that are posted to ao3. it has recently come out that a volunteer was removed from their position for being pro-palestine (you can find the twt thread here). i am in the process of looking for a better alternative, but until then, it is unfortunately probably the best way to share these stories. while i personally won't be posting to or reading on ao3 for the time being, how you choose to engage going forward is completely up to you! i just wanted to make sure i was being transparent.

hobi x reader

guarded & kanalia by @xjoonchildx — basically anything by ana lbr

just practice & we float by @anotherbtswriter

gone wild by @johobi

liar, liar by @eoieopda

party on you by @here2bbtstrash

do i wanna know? by @yoongiphoria

started with a spark, now we're on fire by @the-boy-meets-evil

renegade by @junghelioseok

midnight confessions by @snackhobi

cry to my room by @kithtaehyung

matters of the heart by @hobidreams

plant boy by @gukyi

sunlit affair by @ubemango

the art of war by @wwilloww

not today, satan by @gimmethatagustd

the wood by @sailoryooons

virtuoso by @hamsterclaw

even though by @moni-logues

anything by @dilfhoseokie

upbeat

for the first time (what's past is past)

same old mistakes

tip 143 (for ∞ seconds of love)

as always, mxm fics (aka me being embarrassing sope trash) under the cut!

member x member

little miracles by @here2bbtstrash (jihope)

you're not mine, but you're the best (jihope) ⭐

i only always think (jihope)

you made me dream when i couldn't sleep (jihope)

walk the walk (jihope)

polaroid (jihope)

a midnight clear (jihope) ⭐

got an offer you might refuse (jihope feat. jin)

i don't want it at all (jihope feat. jin)

please be my finale (sope) ⭐

i've been calling your name (in this whole universe) (sope)

nothing without sunlight (sope)

same damn hunger (sope) ⭐

hot fuss (sope)

i'd love it if we made it (sope) ⭐

rub your feelings down my spine (sope)

kiss me hard before you go (sope) ⭐

how easy this should be (sope)

all my days (i'll know your face) (sope)

those ocean eyes (sope)

leave you drowning (until you reach for my hand) (sope)

reputation (sope)

snapshots from the breakdown (sope) ⭐

the best is yet to come (sope)

my hands down your pants (no homo) (sope)

first times and stuff & an experiment in threesomes (sope feat. jk)

at least i got you in my head (hopekook)

10/10, would do again (hopekook)

bone + tissue (hopekook)

telepathy (rapline)

delta (rapline)

i get those goosebumps every time (rapline)

i'm on fire (rapline)

when the moon rises (namseok)

how i'm imagining you (namseok)

in your atmosphere (namseok)

why don't you figure (my heart) out (namseok)

the universe needs more you (namseok)

bated breath (2seok)

smile like you mean it (2seok)

gingerbread (2seok)

cowboys love horses (2seok)

natural gnosis and the chaos therein (2seok) ⭐

telepathy for virgins (2seok)

⭐ = personal mxm favorite. please read any of these and return to scream over them with me.

#hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #hobi x reader #jhope fanfic #hoseok fanfic #jhope smut #hoseok smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #fic rec

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ncteez · 1 year

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The perks of being that guy (l.jh.)

Taking note of the strangers you see day to day isn’t something you’d normally do. The only reason today is different is because the guy who made small talk as he rang you up for your intimate items was the same guy who showed up catering for your family reunion.

or the one where jihoon is a dildo salesman, a caterer, a self-titled mechanic, and also your ride home. he is not an expert in any of his jobs, but he sure is an expert in wit and, well, other things.

ao3 | m.list | reblog to give woozi a lil kiss

minors dni!!

WORDCOUNT― 14k

PAIRING― jihoon x afab reader

CONTENT― strangers to lovers like immediately, long fluffy hair jihoon!!!!, you buy a monster sized dildo, blatant talking of masturbation and toys, smut, cliche blooming an attachment to someone after (1) fuckening.

NOTE― a present for u all because i hit a milestone of 5000 followers!! this was only supposed to be like 5k words but i guess i was in love with him this whole time. anyway, this is not proof read bc i think u guys know by now that im not about that life, so if you find a typo– don’t tell me i will delete everything out of embarrassment.

smut tags under cut::

smut tags― it’s kind of fluffy im so sorry i just have feelings for him, average cock size jihoon!!!! he is very much a service top, making out, hand holding, caressing, grinding, finger fucking, titty worship, unprotected sex (just wrap it guys, im too lazy to write a condom scene), sweet talking as a form of dirty talk, missionary bc i refuse to not write smut where he wants to look directly at you, back scratches (sexual) ~

Never have you been put in the position to make small talk about the sex toys you place on a counter to purchase. Then again, you guess it’s part of the job description that most people ignore or aren’t privy to actually doing.

Never have you been informed of the wide variety of lubricants, additional toy-cleaners, or the bigger and smaller alternatives to your chosen toy. You don’t show discomfort though, because it’s not uncomfortable. Sex is normal, masturbation is more normal, and the man in front of you appears to be normal too.

“There’s twelve different color variants if you prefer something less fleshy.” The man says, standing at the counter with some sort of a permanent pout on his lips.

“I’m fine with my choice, if you could just ring me up now I can get out of your hair.” You respond, glancing at the time on your phone and wondering how you got stuck with the only employee who actually does his job here.

“Are you sure you don’t want any lubricant…?” The man adds, gazing at the size of your toy and then looking you up and down as if you clearly wouldn’t be able to handle it without said lube purchase.

The man with no name tag appears to be blissfully unaware of his invasiveness with that question as you tilt your head with a raised brow. Shocked at the very question, it’s actually quite laughable that he’s so monotone with the offensive comment. You imagine he’s done this for so long, he must be a manager trying to get the day over with, going through the steps in a bored mood with little to no regard as to how he must sound to strangers buying their first or twentieth dildo.

With your assumption that he doesn’t exactly care about the level of wet your vagina is when you use this toy, you respond.

“I think I know what I can take and I already have lube, but thanks.”

He nods, not even sparing you much of a glance before giving you a total and bagging your item.

Now, despite Jihoon’s lack of interest toward the purchase of toys he finds it comical that he’s grown numb to the very fact that he knows everyone in this town’s kinks after they step out of the shop’s door. Someone’s gotta do this job and keep those secrets and he likes to think he fits the bill perfectly.

Lively as he may be outside of this shop, each job comes with a personality and this one calls for one of disinterest in your product but interest in the sale. He’s not one to lie to himself though, many times a pretty girl has marched in and bought toys far bigger than any man and he does tend to let his mind wander about it from time to time. When he first started this job, bright eyed and bushy-tailed, he found it hard to navigate a single sale without a flush of rosy tints crossing his cheeks and ears. Now, he’s become a veteran at keeping his dick locked in place if he were to feel some type of way about a purchase and the one purchasing.

Shy as he was when he started, it’s all lost now as he handles dicks and dongs, pocket pussies and anal plugs, even whips and chains.

Shy. That’s definitely a word and surprisingly one that can describe him when he’s not on schedule within these walls of alien dicks and lime flavored lube to match the grotesque green color. At his other job, because he works two, he takes the praise of being the charming yet, timid man who shows up with pans of food for events.

The guests seem to love him, and many times during weddings and company parties he has been offered phone numbers or asked for one simply because he appears to be that of a friendly face with a kind sense of being.

It’s a stark contrast of jobs, and somehow he’s managed to dodge knowing many of the people coming into his night job to shop for ways to fuck themselves. The rare time it had happened, he was thankful to have another person in the shop to ring them up. Keeping up with two jobs is hard, and keeping up with two personalities is even harder.

You hadn't thought of that guy from the sex shop even once until he showed his face at your family reunion.

He noticed you before you managed to realize it was him though. Stealing looks in your direction as you chat with little cousins and elder aunts and uncles, mostly to double check in his brain if you’re really the girl who showed up and nonchalantly bought the newest dildo in stock. The fleshy colored one with rotating beads and a g-spot stimulator button. Upon your eyes meeting his though, he could tell it was you simply by your furrowed brow as you recognized him.

Jihoon couldn’t help but smirk. He knew that eventually someone at an event would recognize him as their local sex-shop manager, he’s actually shocked it doesn’t happen more often. At least it’s you though, a woman who looks near his age and clearly has a very healthy relationship with her sexuality. So much so that you weren’t shy or nervous in buying the toy from him, because it’s very true that many people feel too vulnerable when buying those kinds of items.

His smirk doesn’t go unnoticed by you before you look away from him and focus your attention back to your family. And by the time he’s prepared the food and is standing aside to help explain or describe what ingredients the dishes have, you’re walking up with your empty plate and an awkward glance.

He follows you down the line, seemingly more interested in you than anyone else. You could argue it’s just an attempt to make you feel embarrassed though.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” You ask, a knowing look telling him that you’re already very aware of that ‘somewhere’ you know him from.

His pursed lips and snide hidden laugh at you is one thing, but the way he whispers to you over a pan of potato casserole is another.

“I think you know who I am.” He says, crossing his arms as he leans back again with a flicker of a grin.

You leave it at that, looking him in the eye curiously and for some reason, smiling back at the strange second encounter with a man who appears to have a name tag now.

“Thanks, Jihoon. See you around.”

You’re heading away from the table of food and now toward your saved spot at the table of family that you missed the most. Your same-age cousins, the ones you grew up with and made mud pies for your parents with during summer evenings.

“What was that about?” One of them leans over to ask, glancing to the man who is still overseeing the table of food and maintaining perfect temperatures.

“Huh? He was just telling me what was in the potatoes.”

She takes your answer as truth without issue, and the conversation falls away and into something else. College life, job life, family life.

Okay so you’re trying to hear yourself out here. Are you somehow curious and interested in speaking with Jihoon? Yeah. Do you know why? Also yes. For one, he just sold you a fucking interesting sex toy last weekend in the most uncomfortable way possible, and now he’s here at your family reunion to remind you of what you do in your apartment when you’re alone.

His personality seemed different this time too. He wasn’t monotone, he was snide with you about knowing who you are. He probably thinks it’s funny that he ended up at your family reunion over any other event.

So yeah, maybe you find yourself going up to the table for seconds even though you’re no longer hungry. Maybe you definitely wait until no one else is at the table and he appears to be tidying up the space and wiping up spills.

“How many jobs do you have?” You ask in a sarcastic tone when you reach him, the table between the two of you creating a comfortable distance to poke and prod.

He jumps only slightly at your presence because he didn’t notice you walking up. Then he’s smiling again, looking at you up and down.

“Plenty. How much lube do you have left?” He answers before shooting back his own question and getting right to the point.

You freeze in shock at his question, reminding yourself that his monotone voice from the late dildo purchase is no more and he now comes across as vibrant and charming to you. You check him out for a moment, taking mental notes of what may not be to like about him. Unfortunately, you’re not finding much to take note of.

“I can’t imagine you have much left, that thing was a fucking monster.” He pauses to cover his mouth, forgetting that he’s supposed to be timid and gentle during his day job. He’s not supposed to be himself.

You find yourself laughing at his panic though, leaning over the table and holding out your empty plate. Mostly just to get in closer to him.

“Why are you so interested in my ‘fucking monster”’ dildos anyway?” You narrow your eyes.

He pauses, his panic easing after taking note of your easy personality and banter towards him.

“I think anyone would be interested, with all things considered.” He checks you out again. “Correction, they should be worried.”

“You’re different from before,” you comment, both of you now blatantly staring down each other. “I like this version of you more.”

Something inside of him feels giddy at that. Not to be cliche but he wonders if this is what it’s like to instantly have a crush on someone. Again, he’s not one to lie to himself. You’re pretty and you appear to be confident. Confident enough to discuss this at your own family reunion at least.

“Maybe I’ll see you again sometime then.” He puts a hand forward, inviting you to shake it but you simply stare down at it.

“Yeah, maybe you will.” You smile, slapping his hand as if you’re low fiving him.

Honestly, he might actually see you within the next day or two because he was kind of right to ask about how much lube you have left, but it’s not like you’d answer that truthfully if at all. You might be running out after just two uses. He was right again about it being a fucking monster, because well, yeah. Maybe you’ll pop in and shop for bulk lube instead of rejecting his up-sale.

Unfortunately for you, upon the reunion coming to an end, you get into your car and of course it doesn’t start. Your head slamming into the steering wheel with a sigh that’s probably loud enough for the entire town to hear.

The last thing you need is your father driving you home, because he will lecture you about your car and how it’s got to be some fault of your own for it to not start. And you know, yeah maybe it was your fault. Why were your lights turned on during a sunny sunday afternoon? Fuck if you know. Why were they left on for the entire nine hours you spent at your parent’s house? You refuse to ask yourself questions.

Just as you prepare to head back inside, taking the walk of shame ten minutes after saying your goodbyes, a savior appears.

That savior is none other than Jihoon walking up with his stiff button down shirt partially unbuttoned, hair now disheveled as he must have ruffled it up after the day of work. He watched you from his catering van for just a few minutes before finally getting out to offer his expertise.

“The battery is dead.” He smiles, slapping both palms on your hood and leaning to look at you through the windshield.

“Smart man, can you un-dead my battery before my dad comes out?”

Jihoon shakes his head apologetically.

“I already checked the van for the cables, could be a write up on my part for not checking before leaving. We are supposed to have all sorts of shit to prevent breakdowns on a job. Not today though, apparently.” He scratches the back of his neck as he walks to your opened car door.

“If you can hang tight for like ten minutes I can swing by after dropping the van off.”

Your eyes plead with him. You’d prefer this, yes. If he’s willing to help, you’re willing to accept.

“You sure I’m too out of the way for you to do that?”

He shakes his head nonchalantly, waving you off as he leans into your car to pull your keys out of the ignition. He smells like food, obviously he does, but there’s a scent of something else on him that’s far more attractive. The dull scent of cologne that matches him all too well.

“Don’t try to turn it on anymore if you don’t want your dad coming out.” He laughs. “I’m sure he would help you but if you’d rather I help you, I am more than happy to do it.”

He’s teasing. His little crush pushes him to want to help you, but he’s gonna play it off as casually as possible.

“I’ll hang out here. My dad would lecture the fuck out of me.”

Jihoon nods, backing away and heading back to his van to fulfill his offer.

On another note, you’re shocked that your father didn’t hear the commotion, and even more shocked that he didn’t step outside once since the reunion ended. He must have been tired, and you know him, he sleeps like a rock even if he hits the sack at 7pm without even cleaning up the yard.

“Oh, it’s dead dead.” Jihoon looks at you apologetically, peeking his head out from the side of your hood and through your window.

“Define dead dead.” You comment, taking your keys out of the ignition with a huff.

“Like, you need a new battery. This one is done for.”

You sigh loudly, knowing that now you’ll have to go ask your parents for a ride home. Know that your dad is going to add more to his lectures with each day your car is sitting in their driveway. This is so fucking annoying. At least you work from home though, so it’s not like you’re gonna lose your job over this or anything.

Jihoon unhooks the cables and turns off his car, then stands there and watches you for a moment. You look frustrated and annoyed, and it’s very much like him to offer more help. Of course it is.

“Would it be too forward to ask if you need a ride home?”

You look at him confused, tilting your head and studying his body language much like before. You’re not one to decline someone making your life a little bit easier, and he is interesting to talk to. You nod slowly, then pause.

“You’ve worked all day, don’t waste your off-time helping me out.”

“I’m already wasting my off time on you though, might as well let me drive you home too?”

You stare at him.

“Okay.”

The awkward silence sets in shortly after you seat yourself in his car. You fill that silence with small sarcastic comments about his car though, and soon it becomes easy to be in the space with him.

“Where did this sticker come from?” You ask, poking your finger into a sticker with its edges rolled from the summer heat, probably.

“Ex girlfriend, i couldn’t get it off without it leaving a residue so I’m just letting the sun do its job and melt it off.”

“Oh, harsh.” You laugh, wanting to prod further. “Why’d you break up?”

Jihoon pauses, you can tell by the way his foot lets up from the gas momentarily that he wasn’t expecting you to ask that. Then again, he’s said some weird shit to you too, so you figure it’s not an end-all question.

“Was that too forward to ask?”

“Not at all, just wasn’t expecting it,” He shakes his head with a small smile, nearly reaching his hand from the wheel to pat your leg in reassurance. He holds back, wondering why the fuck that urge felt so normal for him to do. “It’s been like a year, so I’m over it and stuff. She just thought I worked too much and didn’t spend enough time with her.”

“Ouch, even harsher.” You smile in reassurance to him, also feeling it normal to want to do that for some reason. “Her loss, I mean, discounted dildos and food? Huge loss.”

He laughs at your comments, briefly looking over at you once he stops at a red light. Your eyes are shining with life, with interest even. At that moment, he feels something between the two of you. Which is quite strange considering this is your first time officially meeting him outside of his working hours. He can’t help the way his face softens though, it happens against his will, honestly, it does.

“You’re kind of cute,” You blurt, breaking eye contact with him and shifting in your seat. “and fun to hang out with.”

“Hang out?” He laughs at you, eyes now adjusting back to the road and lowering his speed just to have a bit more time with you. “This is hardly a hang-out, but if you’re interested, I’m more than willing to check my schedule to see when I’m free next.”

You feel confidence raise up in your chest, bubbling to be free in the form of a question likely too bold to actually consider.

“You’re free right now…” You comment quietly, glancing at him.

“Hm?” He asks, tightening his grip on the steering wheel and feeling your eyes on him. He heard you, but he wouldn’t mind hearing you repeat it.

“I said, you’re free right now.” You repeat, this time with more confidence. “Would it be too forward to ask if –”

“Nothing is too forward to ask, I literally sold you a dildo.”

You pause in shock, all thoughts leaving your head.

“Damn, alright,” You laugh, feeling kind of warm inside at how his forwardness matches your own. “If you’re free right now, we could hang out right now.”

How lucky for both of you. He’s actually not catering tomorrow and only has to be at work at the good ol’ sex shop in the evening.

“Alright,” He nods, glancing over to you. “Kind of fucked up we are hanging out after I met your entire family and still haven’t gotten a name from you yet though, wouldn’t you think?”

Oh fuck, he’s right.

“I’m sure you heard the kids yelling it all day. Don’t be dramatic.”

He laughs, already in love with the idea of spending more time with you.

“Where to then, y/n?”

If your parents were to ask why you’re walking through your apartment building with the caterer following behind you, you’d have no excuse. Then again, as an adult, you don’t think you need one. It’s strange despite how open and casual you are with making friends though, because you never just invite strangers to your place for friendship. Not at least without hanging out a few times.

You guess it’s not super awkward because it’s true that he already knows things about you that your family doesn’t. Such as, the things you penetrate yourself with when you’re alone. It’s a major ice breaker, and something that makes the friendship with him come easy even after barely talking to the guy.

The few words you have shared have been easy and fun, so it’s only natural that if your instinct is to want to be around him a little longer, you’d invite him in right? You weren’t really expecting him to accept your answer to his question.

“Where to then?”

You thought for a moment when he asked that. You don’t go to clubs or bars anymore, most places would have been closing within the hour, and it’s not like you didn’t eat to peak fullness during the family reunion so having a late dinner with him was out of the question too. You answered him so easily, and he accepted in a way that seemed just as natural to him.

“We could just hang out at my place, I’ve got plenty of streaming services, a gaming system, and wine.”

“Sounds good.”

It was so easy to become friends with him, and now with him following you up to your apartment, the typical awkwardness that should come with this type of thing isn’t swarming your mind at all. He’s even making small talk about the building itself after parking in your parking spot.

“This building is way nicer than mine, you got a door code and everything just to get in.”

“Wasn’t always like this. Being a single woman in a city like this calls for safety measures though.”

A little box in his head checks out. He didn’t even have to ask if you’re single, because he already assumed you were with the way you so easily invited him over.

By the time you get to your door with him, he’s polite when he walks in and takes off his shoes. Polite in the way he looks around and studies your space, even polite in the way he walks into the living room and invites himself onto your couch and grabs your remote.

“I was going to say make yourself comfortable but–”

“Well, would you prefer I sit on your floor?” He shoots back with a sarcastic tone in his voice. “Would you prefer I start digging through your cabinets for snacks? Would you prefer–”

“You’re so much more talkative when I’m not trying to buy something from you.” You comment with a laugh, dipping into the kitchen for two glasses and that cheap bottle of wine.

“Speaking of, do you actually use that thing and like it? I mean, I see some weird purchases but that specific one is super popular with the fetish groups.”

For the first time, you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You should have known that the sex toy would be a point of conversation, considering the first time you ever met was buying it.

“Yes, I use it. I’m surprised you find it shocking considering it’s literally your job to know what people like in terms of getting off.”

He smiles at that, because you’re damn right he knows. Most of the time he would prefer not to know, but he always did wonder if, on the off chance, he ended up hooking up with a customer he’d have some prior knowledge of how they like it based on toys alone.

“You know, no one buys toys on a Monday at nine in the morning.”

“I buy toys at nine in the morning on a Monday,” You chuckle, carrying the two glasses and wine into the living room and plopping down next to him. “Why does that matter? I’m sure you make your quotas even on the slow days considering how hard you were trying to up-sell me.”

He shrugs as he watches you pour him a glass.

“It’s easy to up-sell when you know people’s kinks after a few purchases. I do that to everyone just to gauge what they need so if they come back I can make more offers.”

“A true salesman.” You laugh with a pitied voice. “What would you say my kink is?”

He studies you, looking you up and down without shame and thinking hard about your single purchase.

“Well, considering that specific item is, again, usually looked at by a specific type of person or couple, I’d say–”

“Wrong.” You interrupt before he even tries to make a guess. “I don’t have a kink, I just have a sex drive.”

You take a sip at his silence of being beaten to the punch, and then he takes his own thoughtful sip.

“Okay then, What do you think my kink is?” He asks slyly, cup still against his lips as he sips again.

“Wha–” You narrow your eyes. “Hell if I know, you probably don’t even have sex after being in a hyper-sexualized space like that for hours on end.”

“Wrong.” He pokes his tongue into his cheek and looks away from you with another casual chuckle.

“Are you telling me you have a pocket pussy or like, a buttplug or something?”

“Three pocket pussies, actually.”

You don’t know why you’re shocked. For some reason his sex toys becoming the focus makes you feel more shy than your own being the focus.

“I bet you named them.”

“Pocket 1, Butthole 1, and Jessica.”

“Jessca?!”

He nods in a matter-of-fact tone with a proud smile.

You feel comfortable around him, never having a friend who openly talks to you about these things without any type of awkwardness. It’s the fact that he’s a man too. Usually they think with their dicks and he seems to have no qualms in admitting that it’s something he may do from time to time too.

You imagine he needs this type of personality to work such a job though, being casual about sex can be so difficult for your average joe because for some reason, it is embarrassing. It’s hard to talk about even to sex-shop employees. You like to think he’s probably someone who makes others feel comfortable about their sexual habits though, because you feel comfortable.

“I’m lying by the way.” He cuts through your thoughts, “I only have two.”

You nod energetically.

“Jesse and James.”

“Oh my god, how did you know that?”

You narrow your eyes again. He’s gotta be a fucking nerd to get the reference, even if everyone knows what pokemon is.

“So the pussy is Jesse, and the asshole is James.”

He nods slowly, acting surprised before smirking yet again.

“Actually, I only have one but I’ve experimented with other things that come through the door. Might as well, right?”

“And yet, you’re shocked about my single dildo purchase without knowing of my other items of interest? I could have just been trying something new too, y’know.”

Another sip of wine, and another glance away from him.

“No one buys that as a first time experience.” He shoots back.

“Okay, enough about my dildo, I actually have a question about something you might have in stock but I’ve kind of been too embarrassed to ask until now.”

He nods, his personality shifting only slightly into that as the manager of the sex-shop.

“Shoot.”

“Do you guys have like,” you pause, unsure of why you’re even trying to ask. Again, it’s not like masturbation is embarrassing, nor is the purchasing of toys. Asking for a specific item is a bit too intimate to you though, so you usually just buy those things online. “Okay hear me out.”

“Tentacles? Furry buttplugs with tails attached? Bondage rope? Paddles?”

“No…” You pause at his spewing of different types of toys. “I know you have all of that.”

He pauses, unsure of what could be so embarrassing.

“Do you guys have sex dolls for women? You know, like, just a dude torso with a normal length and girth?”

Jihoon fucking snorts. How mundane. Unfortunately for you though, Nope.

“Nah, the owner tries to cater more towards men and fetish stuff. We’ve got women sex dolls but he’s never really even mentioned just like…a dildo attached to some sort of form that is shaped like a person.”

You shrug.

“Guess sticking it to the wall is all I can do for now then. But like,” You pause, realizing that you’re actually going into detail at this point, which might be a little uncomfortable for him? Maybe? “It’s really annoying to have it sticking to the floor, and you’re like, riding it and it just pops off and stabs your thigh slipping out mid-orgasm.”

He snorts again, this time unable to stop laughing at the image of whatever orgasm instilled the frustration in you to even mention that happening. He tries to stifle his laughter with the last sip of his wine before choking it down and pushing his glass at you for more.

“Noted,” He snorts, nodding his head and almost hiding his face from you. “I’ll tell the boss we need male sex dolls so the women don’t get thigh fucked mid-orgasm.”

You glare.

“Dude, no, because it actually hurt.”

“Maybe you should slow down next time so the full force of your…” he pauses, realizing how sexual the image in his head is of you right now.

“Okay, wait. I’m sorry, is this conversation too much right now?” You ask, looking him up and down and giving him a new glass of wine. “You’re blushing.”

He tries to play it off.

“As if you could make me blush.” He laughs at you, downing half of his glass in one go. “To make up for our lack of product though, and if you don’t tell anyone, I’ll give you a discount on your next purchase just for embarrassing yourself like that just now.”

“Oh, I was supposed to be embarrassed?” You counter, laughing along with him as you actually start to look at him.

You noticed that he was handsome before. Normally employees of shops like those are nonchalant normal people, or strange old men who try to impose their kinks onto you. Jihoon though. Jihoon. Hmm, how to explain him?

With his messy hair that covers his eyes every time he whips his head toward you in a laugh, with his wide smile and pretty eyes. He may not be the tallest man you’ve ever looked at like this but damn is he thick. Like his thighs. Damn, the thighs. Even him now compared to him when he was catering for your family, he’s so much more handsome.

His shoulders are broad, and he’s just… You don’t even know how to explain to yourself the attraction you have toward him at this moment. Handsome is one thing, and you would have continued calling him that if it weren’t for the fact that he’s laughing with you on your couch about a ruined orgasm.

“You know, Jihoon,” You start, looking into your glass and swirling the liquid inside, then you look up again and make eye contact. “I’m really not usually this forward but like,”

His brain stops for a moment at the serious tone in your voice, his expression softens and you can tell he’s listening.

“I know masturbation and stuff is normal, and like, you see and talk about these things all the time but I never really talk about it to other people, they always get weird about it.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. I can’t say this is the most normal hang out I've ever had. Usually we talk about our favorite movies or books or something.”

You wave him off.

“Yeah, that’s a good point. We could talk about our favorite movies but I find myself, um–” You stop for a second.

“Is talking about it making you realize that it’s uncomfortable?”

“No, the opposite actually.” You laugh, now actually feeling embarrassed. “I keep thinking about you mentioning the other things you’ve bought and experimented with.”

“Oh? You’re curious?” He laughs, now feeling a bit shy himself because he’s pretty sure that’s you asking him to put images in your head. “I mean I could go into detail but it actually might be too-telling right now.”

You nod, unsure of why you even suggested.

“Maybe next time?” You change the subject with a smile, one that does seem slightly disappointed.

“There’s a next time?” He smiles, setting his glass down on your table and shifting toward you.

“I don’t see why not? I’m having fun, plus you offered me a discount.”

He nods, looking around the room and checking the time.

“I should probably head out then? We’ve both had a long day.”

You nod back to him, feeling a bit sad.

“When are you free next?” You ask, grabbing your phone in a way that seems a bit too excited. “Can you give me your number?”

He obliges, exchanging phone numbers and promising to contact you with his next free day or night to hang out.

Just as he goes to leave though, for some reason both of you feel as though the satisfaction of this hang out wasn’t reaching full potential.

“Hey, um,” He stops before he puts his shoes back on. “Would it be too forward to say I’m not tired and wouldn’t mind–”

“Staying for a bit longer?” You finish his sentence for him, patting the couch as if that was also on your mind.

He doesn’t even respond, and instead makes his way back onto the couch where the cushion is still warm, unable to help that fluttering feeling in his chest.

It's almost midnight by the time he offers to leave again, and yet, he stays at your clear disappointment of the offer. Another hour later, the two of you are sitting contently and pretending to watch some shitty tv show in comfortable silence.

“We should say something.” He blurts, mid episode.

“What do you mean?”

He turns toward you.

“We should talk about this.” He motions at the space between the two of you.

You’re silent while you try to build up the confidence to meet him half-way again.

“You can correct me if you’re not interested but I actually really would like it if you kissed me or something.” He adds as you continue to process what he seems to be getting at.

You’re taken aback by his forwardness, and instantly you knew he didn’t communicate this earlier for your own sake. Thankfully, you’ve tried to make it easy for him to read you and he ate it up like his favorite book. The content feeling between the two of you was buzzing up to this point. Very loudly in your brain where you were thinking of how to kiss him before the night is up. Even as just a “thank you” if he were to turn away from it.

“Oh yeah?” You ask, tilting your head and seeing him scoot closer. “Kiss you, or something?”

He nods his head, looking at you without much issue and searching for a reaction.

“Are you interested in me like that, in any way?” He asks, looking for confirmation.

“Oh, most definitely.”

The smile that spreads across his face is one that you can argue will be unforgettable. It’s an expression you hope to bring to every person in your life, one that seems to express nothing but relief, excitement, and maybe even a hint of bashfulness.

“You thought I'd invite you inside without being interested?” You smile at him, feeling a little bit fuzzy in the head at the admittance.

“I thought you were just being nice, or like, just interested in friendship,” He rambles on, stopping himself short to give more context to that statement. “I mean, it would be fine if this was all for friendship and I'm happy with that too but I can admit to coming into your apartment with maybe, uh, a small crush.”

“I can admit to inviting you in with a small crush, maybe.”

“Maybe.”

“Are we being too forward?” You ask, emphasizing the repetitive way that word seems to appear. “Even though you’re in my apartment at one in the morning and both of us are giving any and every excuse to keep you here?”

He smiles this time in a way that appears to be self-soothing, and you can imagine you are too. It’s always nerve-wracking to walk on eggshells with another person, the threat of wondering if you'll fall alone or fall with them into a new version of partnership.

You don’t think about the lack of knowing him past a purchase, a quick conversation at a family reunion, or the past several hours he’s huddled up with you on this couch. You simply don’t think it’s strange at this point. After all, you’ve met people online and invited them over without much more than a name, age, and quick conversation about what they want sexually. How is this worse? How is this strange?

“You’re right. Maybe we should stop being so polite when the reality of it is that I’ve been imagining what you’ve done with that toy since the day you bought it.”

Okay, maybe that was too forward but all is lost now as your image of him changes drastically within the mere seconds it took him to say that, not in a bad way either. Again, of course he’s comfortable admitting it, the dude stares at dicks and holes all day. But now he’s staring at you, and talking directly to you.

Your silence makes him shift a bit, shaking his head apologetically.

“Found the boundary, got it.” He shames himself with a timid voice, looking away from you and back to the tv with a hint of embarrassment. “I’m not lying though.” He adds after a few more minutes of your silence.

“Not much of a boundary if I admit that I was blatantly asking you earlier what you’ve done to experiment with your toys.”

“Aha! So I was right in thinking you were straight up asking for mind-porn of me?!” He feels instantly comfortable again, turning his entire body toward you as he folds up one of his legs to sit on with a little bounce.

“Maybe, but what do you mean you’ve been imagining since I bought it? You barely made eye contact with me that day.”

“Oh, I was checking you out the whole time you shopped. Imagine my face when I knew exactly what toy you were reaching for.”

You shove him by the shoulder with a laugh, realizing that this is the first bodily contact you’ve ever had with him, but he actually leans into your shove rather than out of it. Meaning, he barely budges.

“If I looked you in the eye at the register, you would have thought I was some pervert.”

“You are a pervert. You said it had, what? Twelve other colors?”

He shrugs with a pained smile at how cringe he must have sounded to you.

“You seemed more like a sparkly pink girl rather than a normal flesh tone girl. Then again, this was before I knew you were looking for a literal male sex doll for probably super normal pretend-sex.”

You shove him again, your laugh coming out more forced now at the way he jokes with you. Once again, he doesn’t budge. In fact, he’s leaning in closer.

“Now hold on, you didn’t mention anything about one having glitter in it.” You joke, wiggling your brows.

“You trying to fuck a man or a magic unicorn?” He laughs yet again, all of it coming out more forced as the two of you drag out information just to hear the dirty words in a voice you’re only just realizing you like far too much.

“A man.” You respond, this time not laughing, looking him dead in the eye and trying to pretend you don’t notice how close the two of you have gotten. “Why else would I go for more human skin tones?”

“Fuck if I know, I haven’t met a single man who has vibration settings or rolling beads though.”

You snort.

“Shame…but also, why do you think I’m on the hunt for the most mundane sex toy a woman can buy now? The rolling beads almost had me passing out.”

“Was it too much?” He asks seriously, hoping to god it was.

“A little bit, yeah.”

“I can imagine you want something to feel real after that.”

For some reason, his words hit you straight in the gut. Your stomach drops as your attraction heightens, and suddenly you’re just staring at him as you respond.

“I can imagine so, yeah.”

He stares back, almost no space between the two of you as the banter only brought you both mentally and physically as close as possible without becoming twisted together.

“When was the last time you felt something real?” He asks against his better judgment, wondering if you’re on the same page with him. Wondering if all this banter was leading to somewhere or nowhere. Because he could have sworn admitting to wanting you to kiss him, and you’ve yet to do so.

“A month and a half.” You respond dryly, suddenly needing something to drink.

He glances down at your neck when you swallow around your words, then stares at your lips before breathing in a sigh. One that was supposed to relieve the tension in this moment, but only building it more because he knows you see him do it. He knows you see him wet his bottom lip too.

“Are you going to kiss me, or are you planning to wait another month and a half to get what you want?” He continues on his streak of boldness as if to distract you from noticing the sexual tension, feeling his heart skip beats at the intensity of the moment.

“It’s not like we have anything better to do.” You start, leaning in and still looking straight into his eyes.

“Are you suggesting that I’m boring?” He narrows his eyes as he feels your breath against his lips, still sweet from the wine that did close to nothing in terms of altering the brain. The two of you are totally planted into reality, if anything, a little drunk on the other.

“Not at all.” You adjust your words from earlier, there, just hovering over his lips. “I’m just saying that nothing is more interesting than kissing you right now.”

Oh, the fluttering in his belly is so fucking intense right now. No eighteen inch alien tentacle dildo on a shelf could scare him as much as you do at this moment. Intimidatingly outspoken and aware of your wants and needs. His eyelashes flutter just like his stomach does, closing them slowly until he can feel your lips on his.

Your stomach, on the other hand, has been doing flips since the first instance he admitted to wanting to stay. All of the tension, all of the comfortable silence, all of the glances, the smiles, the laughing, all of it was leading up to this. The moment your lips hit his, they feel much like you imagined they would.

Soft, plush, warm. The thin lipped grins he’s given you all fucking day now laying flat against your own lips, no longer grinning, now just wanting. And he’s gentle, so fucking gentle with it. Never has a man asked you to kiss him. Usually they close the gap to try and swoon you. It appears you’re both being swooned by each other at the moment though, and his soft kiss only pulls back momentarily before he leans forward, closer.

The third touch, save for you shoving him, his lips on yours, and now…his hand on your cheek. Caressing so gently as he deepens the kiss with ease. The heat rises up and through your skin at the simple touch. You think he must feel it with the way he chuckles into the kiss and starts peppering them against your lips over and over again. A split second between each lay of his lips, and then another solid kiss. One where you finally start moving yours too.

It’s slow and languid in the way he kisses you like this, barely even darting his tongue out but focusing more on your cheek against his palm. He can feel your jaw move as you kiss and can’t help but love what’s happening, and when you’re the one to lick against his lower lip, he falls in so easily.

That little movement from you, that little feeling of your tongue experimentally prodding his lips open releases the last bit of tension holding him back. He pulls back to look at you and you’re not backing down even slightly.

“Does this feel more real for you?” He asks in a snide way, swiping your bottom lip with his thumb of the glistening saliva before tilting his head with a smile.

You very nearly roll your eyes at him for that. And by very nearly, you do roll your eyes at him and can’t help but smile yet again.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” He says, palm still against your cheek, tips of his fingers toying with the baby hairs on your hair-line. “because I can imagine that the toy couldn’t ki-”

You shoot forward to kiss him again, only just realizing how awkward the positioning is considering neither of you were probably expecting more than a first kiss.

He laughs into it, knowing you were silencing him of something that could arguably be the most cringe-worthy thing he can say after kissing you. His laughs start to stifle though, as you press forward and somehow manage to have his back against the seat of the couch and you planting yourself on top of him.

“Can you shut up about the toy now? I thought we got past that,” You argue as you pull back, your cheek already missing the feeling of his palm against it. “You can’t just act like this and then say some dumb shit like that.”

You’re joking, he knows it. If anything, you’re complimenting him right now and he eats it the fuck up as he stares up at you.

“Was I wrong though? Can it do this for you?”

You take a moment to look at him, realizing that this is the man who you just kissed. With his hair a mess and fanned out onto the cushions, strands falling in front of his eyes, but mostly swept back and exposing the entirety of his forehead to you.

You reach forward and brush a strand from his eyes.

“Actually, say what you want.” You correct yourself and manage to ignore his question.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” He half-chuckles as he brings his hands up to set against your waist, hoping you don’t pull out of the intimate position the two of you are in.

“I don’t know, I was just looking at you and thought it was stupid for me to try to argue with you right now.”

“Why’s that?” He prods for more compliments, feeling himself twitch at the way you look hovering over him.

“Are you trying to argue right now?” You tilt your head, adjusting yourself now to sit directly on his thighs and lay forward, both hands cushioning your chin on his chest as you straddle him.

“Would it be so wrong to admit that you’re fun when you argue with me?”

You can feel him breathe under you, nearly rocking you further and further into whatever headspace Jihoon seems to put you in. It’s too comfortable, and it almost feels as though you’ve been with him for years now. You barely know him, yet you’re lying on him as if you got married two years ago. Insane how this works. How the heart works, or the brain, or whatever drives the arousal you’re feeling right now.

“Will you argue if I ask to show you my room?” You start, lifting back up and away from his chest, now scooting forward a bit. You don’t dare sit on it yet, but you very much would like to if he were to suggest not moving at all from this couch. “My bed.”

He stutters and quickly quiets his excited words, replacing his voice with a nod and a sharp inhale.

“Hah! Telling me to argue and instantly buckling the second I mention my bed.” You laugh, pulling yourself up and sauntering out of his view.

He stares at the ceiling for a moment, in a daze over just how much he likes you. He wonders, would you be shocked to know he hasn’t had sex in much longer compared to you? One and a half months for you? That’s nothing to him. He’s been besties with his right hand for at least six months by now. Trust him when he says that it truly was difficult to not turn into a hormonal idiot when he saw you in the shop that day.

Finally, he shakes himself out of the spaced out horny brain staring at your ceiling and stands to his feet. He’s quick to adjust the bulge in his jeans, uncomfortably shaking his leg before looking toward where you walked off to.

“Um.” He stops realizing you were watching him, looking directly at the spot he just adjusted. “I mean,” He tries to start again, adjusting again as he feels it slowly move out from its tucked place. “Listen,”

“No, I get it.” You say, snickering at his embarrassment as if he somehow doesn’t know you were suggesting at least some foreplay by moving to your room.

“Of course you do,” He drops his head, now blatantly shoving his hands down his pants to adjust before looking back up and taking a step forward. “You’re the one who sat on me like that.”

“Please, I didn’t even sit on it.”

“Didn’t need to.” He shrugs, now coming up to you and waiting for you to guide him through your space and into your room.

Once the two of you get there, him not even attempting to hide that he is very aroused at this moment, you’re very quick to turn to face him once he comes inside.

“We are on the same page, right?” You ask, looking at his lips and the way they still look so kissable.

“As far as I know, with all things considered.” He responds, looking down at himself and how pathetic he must seem in getting so aroused by nothing more than a kiss and a position change.

You smile, reaching for his hand and watching him tumble forward to you. Now standing mere inches in front of you.

“Do you want to see it?” You ask, a cheeky smirk on your face as you turn away from him and run to your bedside table.

He had no idea what the fuck you were referring to until he saw it. There, in all of its non-human glory. Jihoon tics his tongue, curiously straining his neck out to peek at what else is in your drawer as he walks closer.

You make no attempt to close the drawer and instead pull out another one, and another one, another one.

“If you keep pulling out toys I’ll start to think you were lying in saying you wanted to feel something more, um–”

“Real?” You say, turning from your presented line-up of toys to look at him.

He nods, gazing over the toys, four dildos all far bigger than he is.

“I can admit that men can’t vibrate, nor do they have those little rotating beats but,” You chuckle at the conversation, scooping the toys up quicker than you laid them out and tossing them back into the drawer. “They’re not warm, or attached to someone that can kiss me. They’re also not witty.”

You study his expression.

“They don’t make me laugh before getting me off.” You continue, wondering if you may actually be too forward about this now.

He’s rendered a bit speechless, which is rare for him in any given situation. He always has a quick response, not at this moment though as he looks at you. He wonders if you pity that obvious act of self-doubt upon seeing your toys.

“They’re not attached to you.” You add, this time stifling your chuckle, because it’s a pretty funny conversation if you look at it from the outside but you can imagine he must be feeling some type of way to be so quiet.

He thinks hard about it, knowing damn well where this was leading and pushing for it himself. Hearing you now though, so confidently say these things, all doubt erases from his mind.

“Before we do anything,” he starts, his shaky voice coming out more confident as he continues. “Is this just a hook-up to you or are you feeling the way I’m feeling right now?”

You look at him with a question in your eyes. He was kind of shocked that you didn’t finish for him this time, actually.

“Like, you know if we do this, I’m going to be calling to take you out to dinner at some point unless you say you don’t want me to, right?”

You hadn’t thought of anything past him since you’ve gotten here. You didn’t think about anything more than hanging out with him, and now, kissing him, and maybe you know, feeling him. For some reason though, despite the lack of sex you’ve had lately, him saying that only arouses you more. It’s been so long since you’ve intended to sleep with someone and have them want to stick around after. Some of the people you’ve been with didn’t even ask for your number. Is this what adult relationships are actually like?

“As in, you’d want to see where this goes in the–”

“Future, yes. I’m not just going to fuck you and pretend I didn’t when I see you again.”

Shockingly, that’s a first for you and you like the feeling it gives you. Plus, him implying that he’s about to, or very willing to, fuck you sends a wave of fondness through you.

“Alright. Let’s not call it a hook up then.” You say, the playful arousal from before stifling out at the idea of being intimate with someone who is making you aware that you’ll see him again, now being replaced with…feelings? Arousal with feelings?

“What should we call it?”

“A date?” You say back immediately, sitting on your bed and finally closing your bedside drawer.

“Oh, you fuck on the first date?”

You laugh at how quickly his wit comes back, especially with the way he crowds up and stands in front of you.

“With you? I guess I do.” You smile wide for him, feeling the tension bleed away and replace itself again with the arousal of him standing and looking down at you.

“How did we not meet earlier?” He asks, leaning down a bit as if to kiss you.

“Fuck if I know, I bought all of those toys at your shop.”

“Ah, right. Nine in the morning on a Monday. I don’t usually work mornings.”

“Guess I got lucky last time then.”

“I guess you did.” He adds like a period to a sentence, finally kissing you again and making no effort to hide the fact that he’s attempting to lay you down much like you did to him before.

You let him, falling back on your bed and feeling him nudge your legs to spread. Again, you let him, feeling your heart begin to race with excitement in the way he kisses you now versus how he did it earlier.

There is clear intent behind it this time, as he positions himself between your legs. Your heart only races faster when one of his hands slides down your shoulder and he tangles his fingers with yours. It’s all very intimate to be coming from a man you officially met today, but you really do feel lucky.

Lucky that he works two jobs, lucky that your family throws lame ass reunions every five years, lucky that you had your lights on during a sunny sunday afternoon, lucky that your battery died.

It’s so normal already to smile into the kiss and feel giddy inside. Never have you smiled into a kiss save for laughing when a leg cramp happens mid-fuck. You can’t believe how much you’ve smiled and laughed today, and you can’t believe he’s making you react this way just by holding your fucking hand and kissing you this way.

He laughs when you react though, probably feeling at ease on your bed with you under him, squeezing his fingers tightly each time he licks against your tongue. And when he pulls back to breathe, you just look at him and the way his fringe hangs. He looks so pretty at this angle, even when he’s moving slowly, even when his other hand remains planted beside your head to hold his weight from falling onto you.

It’s not been since highschool that you’ve laid with someone simply making out, fully clothed, giggling. You’re unsure of how he’s pulled this out of you, because usually when a man is on top of you, you’re already trying to get his clothes off. But this? This is something that you want to last. You want it to be slower than a usual fuck, because you like when he’s here with you. Whether on top of you or not, there was a reason he’s stayed this late already and you already know it wasn’t solely to fuck you.

“Did you expect to be on top of me someday?” You ask between kisses, and he takes that as an invitation to laugh against your neck and tickle your cheek with his messy hair.

“Expect it? No,” He starts, leaving a kiss just under your ear before lowering his lips to the collar of your shirt and kissing there too. “Hoped I could, though.”

Your heart swells up at that. You realized he must have meant it when he admitted to having a small crush on you. Only now do you realize that curiosity that brought you back up to the food-table during the reunion may have been the start of a crush on your end too.

You don’t say anything more after that and instead fall into the feeling of his lips kissing alone your collar. For some reason the sensation of his lips pushing the fabric out of the way so he can kiss new exposed skin makes you feel incredibly wanted. Maybe it’s the pace, or maybe it’s just because you really really like him, and want him to want you.

“Do you want to take it off?” You ask after a few more of his kisses, wanting to control yourself but also very much wanting to feel his lips everywhere else too.

You can feel him nod in the form of his hair tickling your cheek more. But he doesn’t move from that spot at first, continuing to kiss you the same way and in the same places. You let him, up until he finally sighs and pulls back.

Looking at him now, even compared to a few moments ago, he looks so fucking pretty. His eyes are now soft, you can almost see the lines from where he’s smiled for you all day at the creases of them. His lips, looking more kissable than they did the past two times you thought they looked as kissable as they ever could. His eyebrows, showing no signs of tension.

You’re staring and you’re not intending to hide it. Even as he lifts your shirt from your waist and starts to pull it up. You barely budge as you stare, and stare, until you can’t because he’s trying to pull your shirt over you head.

“If you’d stop staring for two seconds maybe I could get this off of you, yeah?” He laughs, finally pulling it off when you arch your back and then prop yourself up slightly with your hands. “There.”

He sighs when he says it, going silent and almost frozen at the image of your nearly-naked torso. You watch him stare now, a smirk forming all too quickly.

“Now look who’s staring.” You chuckle, noting that his eyes still don’t leave the newly exposed skin or the fabric of your bra.

“Yeah, I am.” He admits, wetting his lower lip again and then flicking his eyes to you. “Am I not supposed to?”

Suddenly, that eye contact makes you feel shy. You’re more naked than he is, despite mostly being dressed still.

“You know,” you start, avoiding his intense eye contact just to get the words out. “If we just take all of our clothes off now, it would probably be easier.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle at you but nods, already lifting his shirt off and going for his zipper and button.

“There’s no rush, but if you’d prefer we do,” He scoots back and away from you, standing to his feet to shove his jeans down his legs. “I don’t mind.”

You watch him undress and lose all ability to act on your own for a solid thirty seconds before you finally start panic-shimming the rest of your clothing off. Save for bra and panties, and he, now standing there clad in only a pair of form-fitting briefs.

You’re glad he isn’t as shy as you at this moment though, or rather, he appears to be entirely infatuated with your body and doesn’t look away from it for even a moment to feel embarrassed himself at standing on the side of your bed nearly nude.

“No rush?” You ask, when he finally trails his eyes up to you and takes his position between your legs from earlier. Except now, you can see his biceps and the way they flex, now, you can feel the immense amount of warmth radiating from him. Now, his hair is even more of a mess.

“I can try,” He says quietly, balancing on on hand and lowering his lips to yours once more, trying to ignore how dangerously close his length is to bumping against your pussy. “No promises now, though.”

You laugh, wondering where he lost his self control within that short span of time where you got undressed. He cuts your laugh off mid-way though, now kissing you again and moving his hand up and down your waist. It tickles and causes goosebumps to form all over you, to the point that you can’t help but sigh into his kiss.

He continues, still holding his hips back from grinding against you, kissing you as good as he can until trailing back to your neck again.

It’s not until you run your fingers through his hair that he sighs himself. That relief and heavenly feeling of your fingers scraping the back of his neck— Such a simple touch can literally send him straight to hell at this point and he wouldn’t care a single bit as long as it’s from you and your hands.

He lowers himself more, just to prevent his hips from intruding into this moment only to lock his lips onto the mound of your breast, other hand lowering so he can lay down and push your bra to the side a bit.

The cold air that hits your nipple is short-lived when you feel him immediately suck it into his mouth with a deep breath. You continue to scratch through his hair, now using your other hand to nearly hug his head in place as you feel the sensations shoot straight between your legs. Each flick of his tongue sends signals to your brain to go! go! go! But much like him, you hold back, even though your legs still manage to squeeze his body between yours in an attempt to find the friction he isn’t yet offering.

He continues this for a few minutes, and then works his fingers under the bra on the other side of your chest before switching his lips to that one. Perking them up so perfectly that he can graze his teeth against either nipple and feel your legs react to it. All of it is turning him on beyond belief, it’s dangerously attractive to him now too, to know that you have several toys that could have already gotten you off by now, but you choose this. You choose his lips playing with your tits, and your legs doing an amazing job of showing him your lack of control.

His lips continue their work, up until he’s trailing further and further down, making your sighs hitch higher and higher in pitch. He kisses your ribs, just above your belly button, then just below your belly button before leaning back.

There, he looks directly at the seat of your panties and smiles at the wet spot there. He plants a kiss right there before climbing back up and caressing your cheek again.

“You’re wet.” He comments in a huskier voice than he normally uses toward you, balancing yet again on his other arm.

Before you can actually respond, his hand on your cheek disappears and is instantly cupping your entire pussy.

You hitch out a sigh and look at him with a smile.

“Obviously.” You say back, rolling your eyes playfully before unintentionally bucking your hips into the pressure his palm offers against your clit.

“Cute too.” He adds, lifting his palm to run his fingers up the wet spot on your panties before pressing in slightly.

You can feel them stick to you uncomfortably, but it still feels so fucking good. Any amount of touching from him feels good though.

“And you’re teasing me.” You argue, looking away from his playful smirk as he plays with the wet fabric against his fingers.

“Just ask. I’m not teasing you if you're not telling me what you want.”

You shoot your eyes back to him, a mixture of curiosity and shock in your eyes. It’s true though, you are a little shocked. Most men really just do what they want, and so do you. Never have you been asked what you want.

Your eyes trail down as far as they can, what his hand is doing is mostly hidden between your legs but you focus entirely on the way his arms flex as his fingers travel up and down your panties.

“You want me to ask?” You question, hips bucking up again unintentionally.

“Not so much ask, but like, tell me what you want.”

He nods to himself as he says it, licking his bottom lip and pressing the fabric of your panties in yet again.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to do what he wants right now though, definitely not. He just figures you know your body far better than he does, and he’d rather not make assumptions and embarrass himself when you could just ask him or better, guide him. Who is he to assume you want his fingers right now anyway?

“I’ve never…” You start, swallowing your words as your brain goes back to focusing on his fingers momentarily. “I haven’t–”

He knows what you’re trying to say, so he attempts to make it a bit easier for you.

“Do you want me to pull your panties to the side?”

You sigh with a nod, looking at him and allowing him to guide you through telling him what you want.

“Do you want me to touch you?”

You nod again, pushing your head back against the mattress out of frustration that you, for some reason, can’t find the confidence to just tell him.

He listens to your body though, more than your weak nods and frustrated sighs. The way your legs shake when he asks, the way you react to the air hitting your folds when he does push your panties to the side. He can’t bare to look down yet though, because he knows for a fact that if he were to pull back and look at you in full, he’d no longer be asking you what you want. He’d be embarrassing for sure.

You can feel his fingers now sliding through your folds though, bare pussy out and on display but not yet being looked at, only being felt. And arguably, all you can do right now is feel too, as he leans forward to kiss you in this silent moment.

His fingers continue to explore as he kisses you, collecting all of your arousal and swirling it around your clit before sliding back down and prodding at your entrance. You make a sound at that, kissing his a little harder than before when he lets out a hum.

“Hm?” He hums against your lips, and you nod to him.

There, he dips a finger in only slightly. Your arms reach around his neck at the feeling and pull him closer to you. To the point that you can feel him struggle to angle his hands right to slide in deeper, but you pay no mind to it. At least not until you kiss the fucking daylights out of him.

That, you do. Kissing him with full-force and making a show of how turned on you are for him. He feels it though, with or without your kiss bruising him. The wetness on the tip of his finger only becomes wetter, and when you release your grip around his neck, he still doesn’t leave the kiss.

He goes back to gently kissing you, focusing more on your fingers than what his tongue is doing. He slides that same finger in all the way now, feeling your walls clench almost instantly and beg for more. Chuckling at the feeling, he fucks his finger into you experimentally before pulling them out and adjusting two fingers at your entrance.

“Hm?” He hums again, and you nod again.

So, two fingers slide in and you’re releasing a soft moan against his lips. Already out of breath from focusing so hard on how he feels when he touches you. Your lips fall slack just to catch that lost breath, and he doesn’t argue, going right back to that spot on your neck to kiss as he picks up rhythm with his fingers. Effectively fucking you open with them.

You hate to say you didn’t pay much attention to his hands until now. Having not noticed how deep just those two digits reach inside of you, and good fucking lord does he know how to use them too. Curling them up at just the right moment to have you legs shaking.

Never have your legs fucking shook for a man. This only happens with the g-spot stimulating toys. God, you open your eyes to look at the ceiling in thought, and it has you wondering if he even knows he’s doing it.

“Keep doing that–” you urge him, and he hums at you finally at least trying to tell him what you want.

He finally lifts from your neck to look at you, now placing his weight back on that one free arm that had been toying with the ends of your hair this entire time, and he’s fucking floored. Even if he pictured you before with those toys, none of those images came close to this. And it’s just his fingers? No where near the size of your toys, no where near as expensive, or warm…or alive.

Oh. You want to feel someone who wants you.

“I’ll do anything you want.” He says, doing exactly as you asked except a little faster now, still hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly that you’re moaning out now.

He tunes in entirely to the sounds you’re making, the faces you’re making, and the way your pussy clenches around just those two fingers. He is aching at this point, pulling back from hovering over you to sit now between your legs, fingers still keeping pace, and sliding his other hand down his briefs.

You don’t notice at first, too enthralled by the feeling of his curling fingers inside of you, but when you do–

“God,” You moan, rolling your eyes at the image of him out of breath, both hands working to pleasure both of you. “Come here.”

He listens, already pulling his hand away from himself but keeping his fingers in you, in a daze as he takes his original position of hovering over you.

“No, I mean, come here.” You say, looking at him as you reach between your bodies and pull his fingers out of you, then reach to grab between his legs.

He immediately moans at the feeling, his hips pressing harshly into your grip with a whine as he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes just to feel it.

“Take it out?” You continue, slowly becoming more and more comfortable telling him what you want.

Just watching him do what you ask is insanely hot. The way he pulls his cock out seems so natural to him, you suddenly imagine what he must look like all alone while getting himself off. Thankfully though, he’s not all alone right now, he’s with you, and you intend to be getting him off.

You look at him, between his legs, and then back at him once more before grabbing it again and practically pulling his hips to you by the cock. He groans all the same at it though, and only holds his breath when he feels your legs spread further and essentially press his cock between your folds and hold it there from the head.

“Grind.” You say, still holding your hand in place to keep the pressure against him, which also puts pressure against your clit when he does grind up.

You both shiver at it, and he still looks down at you, fucking smiling through his sighs of relief regarding the new sensations you’re offering.

“You’re actually fucking perfect.” He compliments, fucking his hips up and coating his cock with the dripping of your core.

Out of everything he’s ever said to you up to this point, out of everything he’s fucking done to you, that’s the one thing that has you spiralling into a world of fucking fire. It makes you feel so warm, especially with the head of his cock bumping your clit. He has barely gotten any friction and he is still calling you perfect? Sign you the fuck up, forever, actually.

“Don’t be stupid,” You start, waving him off between moans and gripping his shoulders.

He grinds up harder at your words though, now propping himself up on his elbows and grabbing your face on both sides.

“You, don’t be stupid.” He says clearly, pointing his thrusts directly at your clit and moaning only slightly as he looks at you.

You swear, at that moment he could see your entire life. Everything about you. Everything you love and hate. The way he doesn’t look through you but at you?

“You’re actually insane.” You laugh, crumbling to his pointed gaze and thrusts, your legs automatically shooting up to wrap around his waist.

He seems proud of being called insane right now. Mostly because he can come up with at least fifty reasons as to why this is anything but insanity, but he remains quiet at the feeling of your legs squeezing around him.

Such a girl was looking for mundane sex toys to have normal sex with? Lucky you, this is his fucking favorite. Plain ‘ol missionary? Check. Legs squeezing around him, almost pulling him in? Check. Looking directly at the face of the person he wants to make feel good? Check.

You barely notice his lack of control by this point, the closeness alone feels like you’re already having sex but you realize you’re entirely empty still. This is fine though, until it’s not.

When does it not become fine? When his confident moans turn to soft sighs, and you notice his arms shaking a bit to hold his weight above you, and when his eyes go dead staring at you. You can tell he’s focused entirely on the feeling between the two of you, doing nothing more than aggressive yet…weak grinds?

“Jihoon,” You say, slightly out of breath.

“Hm?” He responds half-heartedly, releasing his weight from one elbow and dropping his head between your neck and shoulder.

“Fuck me.”

It’s like you can feel the switch in his head go from losing sanity to gaining it back in an instant at those words. He felt like he was pleasuring himself against you for so long, with so much friction between your hand and his abdomen consistently pressing into it. He could have come from this, if you wanted him to anyway. It would have been an intense orgasm after working up for so long, but now?

He doesn’t even say anything, he doesn’t even move his head from between your neck and shoulder. Instead, you feel him expertly adjust his hips and press in without much trouble. He finds exactly where he belongs so fucking fast that is has you spinning and clenching immediately.

“Fuck,” He drones out with a long sigh, slowly sinking his cock into you. “You’re throbbing.”

You chuckle, because yeah. You definitely are, but so is he. You can feel his thick length spreading you open inch by inch, until he’s fully planted into and twitching. Then he doesn’t move again.

“This alone could do me in,” He chuckles against your neck, breathing in a deep sigh and attaching his teeth to your lower ear lobe. “Honestly, I can't believe I didn’t already come just from having my fingers in you.”

You’re both flattered and shocked by this comment, before you can even think to respond he’s talking again.

“You’re so tight, so wet.” He soothes himself through the feeling of your walls clenching around him, not yet wanting to move and just wanting to feel what your body does to him on its own. “It’s so hard not to move right now.

“Please,” You manage to get out, struggling to focus on just one thing with the way he’s talking and the way he sits so perfectly inside of you. “Please, move.”

And he does, instantly. Pulling out and sliding back in so easily that the slapping sound is muted entirely by the matching moan you both release. You can feel his voice vibrating against your neck, and you can imagine he might be able to feel yours through your literal pussy, because it feels like every sound, touch, and sensation is sent straight there for him to enjoy.

It doesn’t stop either. Both of you shamelessly moaning at the feeling of him snapping his hips into you at perfect speed, with a perfect voice, and a perfect hand moving up to grip your chest.

He’s practically blanketing you with his body, your legs holding him in this spot, his hair still finding a way to tickle your cheek with each thrust in. It’s so fucking much. It’s so good, and so…comfortable.

You’re comfortable. So comfortable you don’t even feel the need to rub your clit, you don’t want to chase the orgasm, you just want to feel him. And apparently, so does he.

When he lifts his head, kissing the bottom of your chin and then your lower lip, still the two of you are groaning at each deep thrust in, but he manages to talk through it, somehow.

“Don’t stop,” he says, despite you barely doing anything. “Keep doing that.” He continues as his thrusts pick up pace.

Only now do you realize that you were doing something. Without noticing, your hands were nearly tearing his back apart. Not literally, but your nails may have dug in a few times. Normally, once you notice doing that, you would stop because normally men don’t want the trace of another woman on him. Jihoon though, he’s in love with seeing remnants of you tomorrow.

Obsessed with the sting of it, loving the idea of going to his night-job tomorrow and staring at all of the toys that don’t offer you a back to hold onto like this.

You do as he asks much like he does for you, gripping him so tightly that your nails have no choice but to leave half-moon shapes on his skin. Each thrust drags your fingers up, down, up down, and with each thrust it somehow feels deeper, harder, hotter.

When he releases your chest from his other hand and puts it back to your cheek, caressing much like he has each time he’s focused on kissing you, you think you’re a fucking goner.

As expected, he kisses you at that moment and thrusts once, hard, before holding himself there.

“I’m really close,” He whispers apologetically between kisses, “tell me how to get you there with me.”

You smile when he kisses you again instead of letting you answer, but you fall into it much like he does and you opt to grab that hand on your cheek and guide it to your clit.

Instantly, he’s rubbing harsh and sloppy circles around it, and you reward him for the perfect work of his fingers yet again with your fingernails digging into his back. He softly moans at that, and you swallow it up all too easily.

Tensing your muscles, his fingers on your clit work you up so quickly that you go barely warn him of your oncoming orgasm, even as his cock sits leaking and heavy inside of you. You don’t even know how to tell him, all you can do is frantically moan out shortly.

“I’m–”

Instantly his hips are back at work, barely even thrusting but instead remaining buried into you for the most part. He pulls out an inch and slams back in, wanting your orgasm to get him off more than his own movements. And fuck, it does.

The way you clench when you reach your high, slack lips against his own, he releases at what he could argue is the best possible time. Your tenses muscles work him up perfectly, gently massaging his cock as he releases in full without too much overstimulation.

And you. You have never gotten off with a man staying mostly still inside of you. Actually, you’ve only gotten off that way with toys because nothing beats getting off while completely filly. Jihoon really is something, or, someone.

The two of you released together, and his lips fell slack just like yours did. The kissing turned to that of desperate, orgasm-fogged moans into the other’s mouth. For some reason, it was incredibly hot to you that you both reacted that way. So insanely drunk on the other that nothing felt embarrassing.

Even the way his fingers moved on your clit through your orgasm, he somehow knew when to go and when to stop.

Even now, as your orgasm tapers off, you are so blissfully aware that you want to immediately fall asleep even with him inside of you. Jihoon is polite though, and gently pulls out with a small apology of the mess.

When he looks at you, looking so sleepy under him, maybe it translates to him too and he instantly yawns but tries to be strong for both of you.

“We should clean up.”

There wasn’t even a question in your head when he slept over that night. He didn’t even hint at leaving. Nor did he hint the morning after as you groggily opened your computer for your daily work.

He did hint that he would miss you when he eventually had to go to his own house and get ready for a day at the sex-shop.

He also hinted a few times at feeling like, when he looked at you, you weren’t a brand new person in his life. Part of you wonders if that’s because maybe you want to be permanent in his life from now on.

Later that night, he came back. Bright eyes and a stinging back.

For some reason, you feel it’s safe to say that neither of you can stand being apart for too long. So yeah, maybe this is what a normal relationship is like. If, you know, you were in a relationship with him.

Ironically enough, only a few days later that relationship is established in the form of a new car battery and a bottle of lube that he bought for you.

Not that you need it. (The lube.)

#woozi smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #jihoon smut #lee jihoon smut #lee woozi smut

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nocasdatsgay · 1 month

Text

Then There Were Three:

A Neapolitan Bonds Fic

Day One of @polyacotarweek : Beginnings

Summary: You are invited to the Autumn celebrations as an emissary of Dawn. The High Lord’s mate invites you to meet him after the party is over. Alternatively: The night the mating bond snapped.

MasterPost | Poly Week MasterPost| AO3 Link |

Pairing: Azriel/Eris/Reader | Rating: E🌶️ | Word Count: 4962

Warnings: heavy flirtations, slightly rough sex, Reader does panic near the end.

A/N: I did my best to be vague about the reader’s origins. I realized it leaves autumn out of her home court choices but you can pretend she’s from there if you squint and pretend she was raised elsewhere 😅

Tagging: @saltedcoffeescotch @hieragalbatorixdottir @ysmtttty @mybestfriendmademe

You grabbed a flute of champagne off the table in the corner and took a sip. Autumn champagne was so different. The breed of champagne fruit grown in Autumn retained some of the sweetness like those grown in the warmer courts. However, it had a crisp undertone from the chill air. It was one of your favorites and you needed to remind yourself to buy a bottle from the market before leaving the Court.

You looked out at the party taking another sip to steel your nerves. They called you the floating emissary behind your back. Not that you would deny that name. You’d made your home in almost the same amount of courts as your friend Lucien. You were no spy- just versed in law and good at making fair treaties. Thanks to that, you had a good reputation with the High Lords.

At the moment, you were employed by Dawn, sent with a few others to represent the court for the Autumn festival week. It’s been held since Eris Vanserra became High Lord but this was your first time attending it. The ballroom was filled with delegates and courtiers. There were also natives of Autumn, high fae and not, intermingling. The party continued out the door to the courtyard.

The courtyard itself was beautiful. The trees were so vibrant, more than the last time you saw them. You’d been here once before under Beron’s reign. That one visit was enough to have you never come back to Autumn while he lived. Thankfully, you never had an excuse to come back until now.

So much changed in the past few decades.

You decided you’d rejoin the mingling, maybe find a few other courtiers to chat up. You held your glass tight and went to step away when a tall male seemed to stop and turn to you. You immediately recognized him, his black hair and Illyrian wings giving him away.

“Lord Azriel,” you curtsied, free hand fanning out the skirt of the maroon dress you wore for the occasion.

“Just Azriel.” A smile ghosted his lips. His gaze never left your own as he asked, “I don’t believe we’ve met, Lady?”

“Y/N,” you replied. “Just Y/N.”

Amusement flashed in his eyes and across his face.

“And where are you from, Just Y/N?”

You knew in your mind that he was just being polite but your stomach still flipped on itself. If this was the High Lord’s mate and famed shadowsinger being polite you were terrified of what he could do when he was truly flirting.

“Depends. I’m a liaison for the Dawn Court, currently.”

“The Floating Emissary, I’ve heard of you.” His gaze raked over you and you felt your cheeks heat. “You’re much prettier than Lucien.”

“I would hope,” you laughed. “Handsome male that he is, I have to surpass his reputation somehow.”

His laughter rang out like a song. You steeled yourself again. The last thing you needed was the High Lord of Autumn catching you speaking with his mate and assuming you were flirting. Why it worried you, you weren’t certain. Possibly because Azriel was devastatingly handsome and easy to flirt with.

“Was there a reason you were hiding out over here by the drinks?”

“Taking a break. Parties require more small talk than some might suspect.”

He hummed in agreement. “Would you be up for a dance?”

Your mind seemed to stop working, trying to process what was just asked of you. You glance at the throne and the High Lord is gone. Part of you was disappointed at that. You decided to down the rest of your champagne.

“Of course.”

Azriel grinned at you. “I like your style.”

He held out his hand and you took it in yours. Your stomach flipped on itself again and the texture of his hand had heat flaring between your legs. You smiled and mentally shook yourself, trying to keep it together. Some of the crowd parted as he led you to the dance floor, though no one seemed to care.

“An Autumn dance?” Asked, his hand went to your waist and you inhaled sharply. “Or a Night Court dance.”

You told yourself the look in his eyes was just him being impressed. It was not the look of someone who wanted to devour you whole in the middle of the throne room with everyone watching. You watched his shadows swirl around your arms. Like they were studying you.

“Autumn,” he replied as the band started the next song. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”

You knew the song and took it as a challenge. Of course the dance he wanted was faster, and involved a lot of footwork and being close to your partner. Thank the mother your skirt slit, though hidden due to volume, was high.

“You must have a lot of practice,” you said as he guided you backwards. “It’s not the easiest dance with wings.”

He twirled you and pulled you back.

“It’s not. Nesta spent two weeks teaching me for my mating ceremony.”

Right. Azriel was mated to the High Lord. You glanced around, letting him guide you again. Your eyes widened when you made eye contact with that very male. He was watching you intensely. And speak of the Weaver and she shall appear. Beside him was Nesta Archeron herself, watching you just as closely until a tall Illyrian male- her mate, walked up beside her.

“Don’t mind them.” His hands didn’t leave your shoulder and waist but it felt like he’d gently tugged your chin. “They’re just enjoying the show.”

He said it as if he wasn’t doing a Fire Waltz with you. Thankfully you two were not the only ones dancing. You’d be mortified if everyone was watching. He twirled you again and pulled you flush to his back. You spent the whole time he walked you around like that focused on not letting your scent get away from you. Another twirl and you were back in front. You were imagining it, you told yourself; the slight sweetness of his own scent.

Thankfully the song ended. There were claps from the crowd for you and the others who danced. The High Lord nor Nesta and Cassian (you believed that was his name) were where you last saw them as you looked around. You thought Azriel would bid you good night, and part from you. Instead he leaned into you, and you held your breath.

He whispered into your ear. “A left from the main hall, three doors on the right. Be there after the party.” You could only nod. “See you then, Y/N.”

You didn’t exhale until he moved away, leaving you slightly dizzy and flushed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

By the mother, what were you doing? A smart female would go to her room and forget whatever the Shadowsinger said. A smart female would walk in, explain her apologies and how she must go. The irrational part of you saw this as just an unconventional in for negotiations. It’s not bribery to flirt. Nor is it that unethical to speak in private with one of the heads of court.

You arrived at the door and could feel something like a tug in your chest to go in. Your nerves were getting the better of you. You looked down the hallway both ways twice. You could leave and write a note, explaining it’s improper for you to meet him this late. He would have to understand. However before you could make a decision the door opened.

In front of you was not Azriel. It was the High Lord, Eris. You’d never been up close to him before. The front of his long red hair was pulled back into braids, and his whole being glowing in his power. Amber eyes stared back into yours. You scrambled to gain your bearings, still too stunned to explain your presence. He raised a brow at you, expression like steel and your mouth opened and closed. You took a breath.

“High Lord,” you bowed. “Good evening.”

You straightened and you watched his gaze run over you.

“Come in, Y/N.”

You could have swooned with how your name rolled off his tongue. Gods what was wrong with you? He stepped aside and held the door. You forgot what you were thinking, stepping in past him. His scent made your eyes flutter.

You scolded yourself. You were a trained emissary; one of the best. Yet here you were losing your mind over a High Lord and his mate. Which said mate was sprawled out on a chair, wings spread and legs opened like he owned the place. He looked at you smugly when you raked your eyes over him.

“You requested to meet with me Lord Azriel?” Your voice was calmer than you felt.

Lord Eris shut the door, drawing your attention back to him. Even without the power radiating off of him, he was devastatingly handsome. He went past you and sat on the couch. Looking between the two of them; it was night and day almost.

“Just Azriel. Would you like a drink?”

“No, thank you. I think I had enough at your ball.” You looked at Eris. “It was very lively. Thank you for inviting us.”

Your subtle reminder that you did not come alone caught his attention. You could see it flash in his eyes. That didn’t seem to deter him.

“Have a seat,” he gestured to the chairs behind you.

You brushed the back of your skirt, pulled them forward so you didn’t sit on them awkwardly. You looked between the two males in front of you.

“Thank you for inviting me to meet you.” You used your most polite and naive tone. “Though I am uncertain what has warranted a private meeting.”

The High Lord and Azriel already had their own drinks on the tables beside them. The High Lord picked his drink up and took a sip.

“Azriel was explaining to me what a famous emissary you are,” he leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other. “Giving my brother a run for his money.”

“I don’t know about all that,” you replied and straightened the front of your skirt.

“I think I do,” Azriel grinned at you.

The next few minutes encompassed Azriel listing out your achievements- the Summer Court trade route, for one. He brought the peace treaty between Spring and the Night Court. You argued Lucien did more work with that, considering he was mated to the High Lady’s sister. A few laws you overlooked during your brief time in Winter came up as well.

“Should I feel left out that I’ve never received the honor of you working in my court?” Eris asked.

“Are you trying to recruit me to be your emissary, High Lord?” You teased.

“You can rest easy knowing I’m not trying to steal you from Thesan,” he joked back. “However, I might invite you back more often if you can dance like that.”

“I saw you watching.” You crossed your legs. Unintentionally, the slit fell open. You ignored it even if the two males in front of you were eyeballing your legs now. “You’re mate is a very skilled dancer.

“He learned from the best.” Eris took a sip from his glass. “I almost married her for it.”

That you didn’t know. You filed that away in your mind to examine later.

“Don’t lie. You did that to piss off Cassian,” Azriel countered.

Eris rolled his eyes. You wondered if you should continue the small talk or be direct. Both the High Lord and his mate seemed to like the direct approach so you finally asked them.

“Why was I really invited here?”

“You know why.” Azriel kept a heated gaze on you as he downed the rest of the alcohol in his glass. “I wasn’t lying when I said you were pretty.”

Your mind was telling you to leave. The solar courts were more lax but this was Autumn. If anyone saw you, your reputation could be ruined. But you couldn’t move with both very handsome males staring at you like they wanted to eat you alive. Situations like this didn’t happen to you. Was it so terrible that you were enjoying the attention?

“You can leave and neither of us will stop you.” Eris reassured you. “Nor will it be held against you. This is strictly off record. It’ll be as if it never happened.”

“As if staying is any better?” You countered.

“Do you think so little of us that we’d allow your reputation to be ruined?” Eris chuckled.

“A female can never be too careful.” You wished you had taken another drink. If only to give your hands something to do. “Do you always recruit a female from your parties or am I special?”

It was meant to be a joke. A tease really. There was nothing teasing in Azriel’s eyes when he replied.

“You’re the only one we’ve ever agreed to make an offer to together.”

Heat flared between your legs and you knew your scent betrayed you. Especially with that wicked grin Eris had on his face. You squeezed your legs together and barely kept your composure.

“What would you like me to do?” You whispered.

Azriel held up his hand, fingers curling to beckon you over.

“Come here baby girl and let me show you.”

~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*`*~*~*~*~*~*~

If you told yourself yesterday you’d be falling into bed with a High Lord and his mate, you would have laughed. Then you would have asked in what world Helion would agree to share his bed after centuries of waiting for his mate to be free. Falling into the High Lord of Autumn’s bed? Impossible.

And yet.

Azriel was behind you, kissing your neck. His hands had pushed down the top of your dress on one side so he could cup your breast and roll your nipple between his fingers. Eris sat on the edge of the bed, hands up your skirt and pulling down your panties. Once they were off he pulled you forward by the hips and moved your knees onto the bed so you straddled him.

You fell back against Azriel, moaning when Eris wasted no time slipping a hand up your skirt and pushing two fingers into your slick heat. Azriel chuckled at you, pulling his mouth off your neck. You reached your arm back, hand grabbing his hair if only to hold onto something. Eris didn’t even move; you rode his fingers, thighs brushing against his pants.

You whined when he removed them only to be silenced when he stuck them into your open mouth. You hummed against them, sucking on them. He didn’t anticipate you would lower yourself on his lap and rub against the bulge in his pants, by the groan he made. Azriel had worked the zipper in the back of your dress down and it was hanging limply on your arms.

“Soon pretty girl,” Eris said and took his fingers out of your mouth.

Azriel removed your hand and arm off of him and Eris pushed up your dress. Azriel tossed it aside just like Eris had your undergarments. You were about to protest, you being nude while they were not, then Eris snapped his fingers. The clothes on himself vanished, and you inhaled sharply at the feel of his bare skin against your own. Azriel was naked as well, judging from the hard length against your back.

“Nifty trick,” you said, running your fingers over the dusting of hair on his chest.

“It is useful.” He looked about as hyper aware of the fact his cock was pressed against your cunt as you were. “Who do you want first?”

“Depends on how you want me.”

They invited you. You were not going to insult one by picking the other first. Eris’s gaze went behind you to Azriel. He looked back at you with a knowing smirk.

“How is your reflex?”

His hand came up and cupped around your neck. He didn’t squeeze, just brushed his thumb against your skin. You wonder if he knew what a power move he just made. Surely he could feel how wet you were. Az put his hands on your waist, waiting.

“Okay, I guess.” You replied. “It’s decent.”

He hummed, removing his hand. “Azriel gets you first then. He can be rough and we don’t want to ruin that pretty throat of yours yet. Are you okay with taking me in your mouth while he fucks you?”

“Yes,” you replied very quickly.

“Good.”

Several things happened at once. Eris moved from under you and down the bed, while Azriel lifted you up with his arms. He hooked his hands and arms under your thighs and lifted you up, carrying you for a moment before dropping you back onto the bed. You screamed when he did that, which had them both laughing at you.

“Not used to being handled properly?” Azriel bent you forward over Eris’s lap, your hands propping yourself up.

“No.”

You couldn’t think of a witty response. Not when his hands were lifting up your hips to positions exactly how he wanted you. And Eris- the scent of him surrounded you while you watched him stroke himself.

“Open your mouth, princess.”

You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue. When you did that, Azriel grabbed your ass and you felt him spread you open. He pushed into you and you forgot what you were doing, dropping your head with a moan. Azriel was big, you gave him that much. He held you by the hips until he was damn near pressing into your stomach. There was no movement from him as you adjusted. Until he grabbed you by the hair to lift your head. You were looking at Eris again.

He whispered into your ear, “open your mouth.”

You did so again. He let go of your hair and lowered your mouth onto Eris’ cock. He was big too. You went down as far as you were comfortable with and rubbed your tongue against him.

“Good girl,” Eris murmured.

That made you clench around Azriel. There seemed to be an understanding in that moment. When you bobbed your head, Azriel pulled out and slammed back into you. Azriel was indeed rough. He took exactly what he wanted from you, your whole body moving in time with him. Eris was stroking your hair while you used one hand to make up for what you couldn’t take into your mouth. You finally pulled off of Eris, salvia stringing from your mouth to the head of his cock.

“Touch me,” you turned to almost look back at Azriel. “Please, I can’t,” you didn’t know how to express what you wanted or why. Your hand still stroked Eris, your other arm starting to shake.

You felt the weight of Azriel shift on your back and his arm hook around your waist. You fell face first into Eris’s thigh when Azriel’s fingers found your clit. You even stopped stroking the High Lord. How were you supposed to think when Azriel was hitting all the right spots inside and outside of you?

Then Azriel pulled out of you. You yelled in protest- until he was lifting you up and spinning you around. These two males had to have a routine. Azriel put you right into Eris’s hard length like it was nothing. Before you could think, his hand was in your hair, pushing his length into your mouth. You could taste yourself on him and it made you dizzy. More movement behind you: Eris had shifted onto his knees.

They moved in sync, more so than before leaving you to sit there and take it. Eris lifted your hip up at a different angle that had you seeing stars. Azriel was gagging you and being just as rough as Eris promised. In no time, your orgasm was rushing through you with unstoppable force. Your muffled moans had Azriel spilling down your throat. You’re certain Eris followed and came inside you.

You were a wreck when they both pulled out of you.

“You did so well.” Azriel wiped the tears off your cheek while you caught your breath.

There was drool all over your mouth and you could feel Eris’s cum slipping out of you. You needed to clean yourself up. You went to move off the bed and ask where the bathroom was. Instead you pulled back onto the bed with an invisible force. You were held there on your back by your arms; shadows pinning you down. Eris snapped his fingers and you were mostly clean again.

Eris grinned down at you. “Oh love, did you think we were done with you? We’re just getting started.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You waited until their breathing evened out before easing out of bed. Looking for your dress in the dark on wobbly and sore legs wasn’t ideal, but you needed to get back to your room before someone noticed you were missing. Samira would not believe you if you got caught sneaking into your guest chambers. You found it and slipped it on, fighting with the zipper and giving up when you got it halfway up your back. Shoes were next. Your underwear was nowhere to be found.

You huffed. The last thing you wanted was for them to find it and return it with a smug grin. You finally found it by the bathing room door. Slipping them on, you didn’t hear bed creak or the sound of footsteps until something whispered your name.

“By the cauldron,” your whole body jolted, heart racing. You turned to see Azriel behind you, thankfully wearing pants.

“Sorry,” Azriel chuckled. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine.” You caught your breath and whispered. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“It’s no bother. I can winnow you into your room so you don’t have to walk.”

“That’s kind of you.”

He put his hand on your arm and when you looked him in his eyes- your whole body recoiled and you inhaled sharply. That tightness in your chest you felt all evening snapped. You took several steps back staring at him horrified. Your hand went to your chest. You stared at him with eyes wide and he stared back in what you were certain was horror.

What just happened was impossible. Azriel was with the High Lord. You needed to leave. Panic ripped through you at the implications. It was not possible- you were imagining it. You needed to leave. You took several steps back, not looking at Azriel. Maybe it was just you. Maybe you lost your mind. It had to be. There was no way-

Someone was calling your name.

You blinked. You’d backed yourself into a corner. You couldn’t catch your breath no matter how much you breathed in and out. A warm hand made you startle; you focused on amber eyes staring back at you and it happened again. That sharp tug in your chest like a rope going taunt.

“Look at me.”

A soft but firm command of a High Lord you couldn’t ignore. You blinked and you were crying. Strange emotions that weren’t your own were overwhelming you. It was too much, the sudden wave of feelings hitting you. Something cold wrapped around your wrists. You looked down and screamed, shaking your arms when you saw black lines.

“It’s just shadows,” Azriel said calmly from behind Eris. “They’re trying to help.”

“It’s alright,” Eris whispered, brushing your hair back with his hand. “Take a deep breath.” You did as you were told. “Good girl. Now breathe out.”

You found your voice even if it was laced with your tears. “I didn’t. I swear it, I don’t know how.”

How do you explain that this wasn’t a trick? They had to think that. If they felt it then they had to believe you cast a spell on them. They could throw you in the dungeons for this or worse. What were the odds you climbed into their bed and- two tugs halted your thoughts. Warmth flooded your chest. You choked back a sob.

Eris sighed. “Az can you go get a calming tonic from the infirmary please?”

If he disappeared, you didn’t know. Eris dropped his hands to your shoulder and gently guided you backwards. Your legs hit the back of a chair; he gently sat you down into it and then knelt so he was eye level with you.

“I know this is a lot to take in. I promise you, we are not upset.” He took your hand in his and rubbed his thumb over your knuckles.

“I don’t understand,” you whispered. You swallowed and blinked profusely. “Aren’t you afraid I’ve placed a spell on you?”

You couldn’t say it out loud. Not yet. Eris laughed.

“We invited you to our bed. Was it that good you suddenly thought of a spell to cast in between orgasms to trap us?”

Your face heated at his remarks. Thankfully out of the darkness Azriel appeared with a vial. He handed it to you and you took it with shaky hands. You felt dramatic for your reaction but there was nothing you could do about it. Eris took it from you and uncorked it before handing it back. You downed it quickly. He stood and took the bottle from you, vanishing it into thin air.

“Well?” You looked between them after a moment passed. “Aren’t you going to say something about this?” You gestured between yourself and them, specifically pointing at your chest.

“It’s a mating bond, what else is there to say about it?” Eris replied.

Your stomach flipped at his candor and Azriel hummed in agreement. As if this happened all the time. Maybe they took a calming tonic also when you weren’t looking.

“How are you both calm? Mating bonds,” you forced the term out, still not believing it was real, “are between two fae not three!”

Azriel and Eris glanced at each other. Both of them had a knowing look. Azriel shrugged and Eris sighed. He turned to you, meeting your gaze again.

“Years ago we were told this could happen.” You blinked, something akin to shock washing over you. He continued. “We were told specifically that the light of dawn would bring forth a third bond.”

“Like a prophecy? That’s the corniest shit I’ve ever heard,” you replied without thinking.

Azriel bursted out with laughter. “I’m going to tell her you said that.”

You scoffed in response, uncertain of who she was. “You also said you didn’t plan to steal me from Thesan. You, High Lord Eris, are a liar.”

Now it was Eris who laughed. “Glad to see the tonic is working.”

If they had been told before- “So you knew it was me?”

“No, we did not. I felt a draw to you but,” he looked you up and down. “I think the reason is self explanatory.”

“My shadows took a liking to you out in the throne room,” Azriel added sheepishly. “But they didn’t tell me. The bond snapped for me when I touched you.”

Mates.

Mates, plural.

You had mates.

Realization sunk in and you slumped against the chair. You never entertained the idea of having a mate. For you it was an old wives tale, a fictional love story you read about in romance novels. Yes, they existed. But it seemed like it was reserved for High Lords and other important fae. You weren’t anyone special.

“I think,” Eris interrupted your thoughts. “We should rest. Azriel can winnow you to your room. We can talk in the morning if you are up for it.”

“Can I stay?” You whispered.

You had no right to ask that of a mated pair, let alone a High Lord you didn’t really know. However, the idea of leaving made you uneasy. Your friends would understand. Gods, how were you going to explain this? Yes, well a High Lord and his mate asked me for a threesome and surprise seems like I’m their mate too! You mentally groaned at how ridiculous this all was.

“Of course.” Eris pulled you out of your thoughts. “Azriel can get you a change of clothes from your room. If that’s alright with you.”

You nodded. This time you saw the shadows envelop Azriel. It was amazing to watch him disappear almost into a puff of smoke. However, that left you alone with Eris. Not that you cared. The potion was deeply in effect. You realized he was shirtless and your gaze ran over his bare chest and arms.

“We have a guest bed you can sleep in.” You looked up to see Eris with a slight smirk on his face.

“A guest bed?” You furrowed your brows. “In your own chambers?”

“Az’s wings are sensitive. Sometimes he doesn’t like to share a bed.” He paused. “I know I speak for us both that while this isn’t an ideal situation, we would like to get to know you. If you wish.”

“Are you asking for permission to court me, High Lord?” That did something for him because you could feel it before he shut it down. “I need to process it, I think.”

“That’s reasonable.” He gave you a soft smile.

You didn’t have to wait awkwardly for long as Azriel returned quickly with your bag. There was indeed a guest room right next to the High Lord’s bedroom, which still shocked you. As surreal as the past few minutes were, you were exhausted. You bid them an awkward good night and when Eris shut the door and you swore you heard him whisper something to Azriel, about how they owed his sister-in-law a lengthy apology.

#acotar #polyacotarweek #poly acotar week #polyamory #Azriel/eris/reader #azriel acotar #eris vanserra #eris acotar #female reader #azriel got rizz #poly+acotarweek2024 #poly+acotarweek2024 d1 #Neapolitan Bonds

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kenjakusbrainstem · 7 months

Text

Examination (Kenjaku x Reader)

Contains: Medical kink, gynecology exam gone sexual, vaginal fingering, Kenjaku as a doctor, dubious consent.

Hello~ Day 12 of kinktober was Medical play, and I have this running fantasy for a few years that goes along this similar vein. Though I've subbed Kenjaku in for the character I normally imagine in this scenario, it's surprisingly fitting for him, don't you think? Crossposted to Ao3 under the same name and shared to twt at kenjakusbrain, comment or reblog if you have anything to say!

You felt uncomfortable as you sat in the examination room. It had been some time since you had visited a gynecologist, as sexual health wasn’t quite at the top of your concern list. It had been some time since you last had a sexual partner, and even then it wasn’t something you looked forward to. That was, in part, the reason for your visit. You had some questions that you wanted to ask, just to make sure there wasn’t something wrong with you.

Along with also being new in the area and going to a new doctor, you wanted to start completely over with this move. Part of that involved making sure you were healthy, so getting back into the yearly exam was just another part of your to do list.

It had been about ten minutes since the nurse had excused herself to allow you to undress and go alert the doctor. The gown you put on made you feel exposed, as you had trouble closing it in the back, leaving a chill to take over your body. You glanced around the room anxiously, hoping that you’d have the courage to ask your questions in a succinct manner.

The sound of the door opening made you jump. You turned to greet the doctor but your voice caught in your throat. He looked very different than you had expected, though you weren’t entirely sure what you expected from a doctor you had known nothing about.

The man was tall, his long dark hair pulled out of his face into a bun but the majority of it still cascaded down his back. His button up shirt looked like it was almost too tight for him, the lab coat he wore over it doing very little to conceal his bulky frame. You almost missed the small line on his forehead, choosing to ignore it as it wasn’t your place to ask about a wound on a doctor, but somehow it seemed to add to his features in such a way that made him more handsome. This doctor was easily the most attractive man you’d ever seen outside of television.

“Nice to meet you, my name is Doctor Kamo, but my patients usually refer to me as Kenjaku. I will be conducting your exam today. Is there any specific reason for your visit?” The doctor, Kenjaku, asked, it seemed he was more of a straight to business man instead of the kind that apologizes for making you wait so long. You didn’t mind though, somehow you were both reassured by his presence and made self conscious by his appearance.

The thought of having someone this attractive touch you, wasn’t something you were ready for. Gathering your wits about you, you let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding.

“N-not really, I’m mostly just here for an annual exam,” You forced the words out, suddenly too afraid to ask the other questions that had brought you here. Perhaps you could find another doctor to go to with those questions, some old woman that didn’t make you feel strange.

Kenjaku observed you as he began to get ready, washing his hands and putting on some gloves while studying your medical records that had been pulled up on the computer in the room.

“‘Mostly’ sounds like you have other things to say, I won’t press you, but I can’t look for things I’m unaware of,” Kenjaku said as he sat down in front of you. His words weren’t too cold, but they offered little comfort beyond not being forced to answer questions. “Your chart mentions that you aren’t sexually active, is that a choice or is that the nature of the question you don’t have?”

You blinked at the doctor, it surprised you to be read so easily. You know you mentioned that when filling out your paperwork, but you hadn’t expected it to be brought up. Especially not in this way, he mentioned not pressing, but immediately moved into asking more invasive questions. Still Kenjaku’s tone was nothing but clinical, it was his job to make sense of things like this. You probably weren’t the only person he had to pull answers out of.

“I’ve had sex before but it just seems like there isn’t a point to it,” You answered honestly. You were interested in sex, you just didn’t understand what was so enjoyable. There was no urge to have children, all of your previous partners made sex feel like you were there for them to use and move along from. It felt more like something you did for someone else and less like something you felt pleasure in.

Kenjaku nodded, observing you more as you spoke. You felt that somehow he was reading between the things you were saying, not that you’d even said much. It was the way he stared at you, like you were to be studied and not helped.

“Interesting, low sex drive or something else? Low drive can be normal with other factors, if that is the issue. You’re a little too young for some things that can lead to difficulties with sex, have you had any problems that I should look for in my exam?” Kenjaku looked into your eyes as he spoke, his questions making your stomach turn with anxiety.

The question you had intended to ask floated to the forefront of your mind, a faint blush appearing on your cheeks. Averting your eyes you studied the wall behind him for a moment. What was the worst thing that could happen? If you got too embarrassed you could just never come back here.

He seemed like a thorough doctor, even if he were a bit eccentric, he probably could help you in some way. At the very least he could make sure there was nothing inherently wrong with you for the issues you’d been having.

“Well, and please don’t laugh, I don’t have sex because I can’t reach orgasm. Partners have tried and it usually just turns into me faking a reaction and waiting for them to finish. So I gave up, it’s too much of a hassle to try and keep up appearances and no one wants a woman that doesn’t put out,” You explained, looking down in shame. You knew it wasn’t an intentional failing, but you couldn’t help but feel like there had to be something wrong with you.

Kenjaku didn’t laugh, but you could see a glimmer in his eye that made your stomach drop.

“That is more common than you realize. If you don’t have anything else I should know about, please place your feet in the stirrups,” Kenjaku’s acknowledgement felt like it should have been reassuring, but it wasn’t somehow. It was hard for you to find comfort from a man as attractive as him knowing what was about to happen.

The smile that was plastered on Kenjaku’s face felt like it should have been genuine, but there was something off. Even ignoring the strange stitching on his forehead, his handsome features didn’t show anything suspicious.

Doing as you were told you placed your bare feet in the hooks at the end of the bed, adjusting your position. The gown covered you in a way that allowed you to only see the top of Kenjaku’s head, the dark bun in his hair and the stitches you were fixated on. It was probably better that way, the last thing you needed to see was his face as he examined you.

The cold air against your pussy made you shiver, goosebumps forming on your arms in response. Even colder were the gloved hands Kenjaku touched your labia with. The fingers hadn’t startled you, but much to your embarrassment you did feel yourself clench around nothing as he examined you from the outside.

The doctor was being thorough, perhaps too thorough, but it had been so long since you’d done one of these exams you weren’t quite sure what was called for. Kenjaku seemed clinical enough, fingers not lingering, the touch wasn’t sensual at all.

“Things seem to be normal, even your self lubrication seems to be adequate for sexual intercourse. Now hold still, this may pinch a little,” Kenjaku said matter of factly. You watched the bun on top of his head disappear as he leaned back to grab a tool off of the tray he had nearby.

Other than the spoken warning, he didn’t hesitate inserting the speculum inside of you. It was cold, filling you up and spreading you open for him. A small pained noise left your throat, though you did try to keep quiet. You thought you could hear a small chuckle, but it was so quiet you doubted it had even happened.

There was a pause, Kenjaku hadn’t moved and you were trying to avoid squirming, hoping your discomfort wasn’t too obvious. You felt a gloved hand rest on the apex of your thigh, as if to hold you still. Though his hands had felt cold at first, now they felt warm on your skin even through the latex. It was almost comforting.

The sound of paper tearing brought you back to paying attention. You wondered what it could be, until you felt the discomfort of having a cotton swab shoved inside of you. Once it had been removed you waited for the speculum to be removed too, but nothing happened. You wondered if he was going to swab for something else, or look for something else inside of you perhaps.

Before your thought could fully form, you felt his thumb on your clit, not stimulating, just resting there. You froze, unsure if he was just being thorough or if something strange was happening.

“I’m going to run some extra tests. Everything seems in line, you don’t seem to be missing anything in the areas most sensitive, you should be able to achieve orgasm. So long as you have a competent partner,” Kenjaku’s voice retained the same clinical tone he had been using thus far.

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before his thumb began moving in slow circles around your clit. Your hand flew to your mouth, covering it to prevent any sounds from coming out. You couldn’t deny that it felt nice, the latex felt even more foreign than his hand.

Kenjaku watched as you clenched around the speculum that still held you open. The stimulation was so sudden and unexpected, you didn’t know what to do. When you were mulling over asking about orgasming, this had never occurred to you.

As quickly as it entered you, Kenjaku disengaged and removed the speculum from your body. You could feel yourself clenching around nothing, glad that it was gone but almost missing the fullness.

The speed of Kenjaku’s thumb on your clit increased, the sensitive bud very receptive to his touch. It felt like electricity shooting through you, the pleasure was indescribable. You had never spent much time trying anything other than penetrative sex, so this was completely new to you. It hadn’t occurred to you to try something like this for yourself, choosing to assume all sex was the same.

Part of you wanted to express that thought to Kenjaku, that it was just something you had been unaware of and there was no need to continue. What stopped you was the feeling of two thick, gloved fingers entering your tight hole.

It didn’t hurt, especially since he had just removed a tool meant to spread you open, but it did feel big. Kenjaku’s hands were large, something you hadn’t noticed until his fingers were buried inside of you. Instead of thrusting as you had expected, they prodded about, as if he were searching for something.

You opened your mouth to speak, to tell him that he didn’t need to do this, but your words caught in your throat as his fingers brushed up against a bundle of nerves inside you. Hand clamping back over your mouth, you bit into your fingers, using all of your focus to keep the sounds in.

Kenjaku didn’t pull his fingers out after making his discovery, choosing instead to rub against the spot inside of you, making your thighs shake. You could feel just how wet you were getting, the squishing sound of his fingers in your pussy the only thing that filled the room other than the ones you made.

“It seems like you shouldn’t have trouble reaching orgasm now. The only trouble you’d had was just not having an attentive partner, don’t worry though, I’ll make sure to guide you through this one,” Kenjaku said, his clinical voice somehow had become arousing to you. You weren’t sure if it was just the state he had you in or if he had intended to have this affect on you.

A whine left your lips as his hand left your clit, desperate for the attention he’d been giving you. The hand instead pushed up your gown, making it so he could see your face.

You also now could see Kenjaku, nestled between your thighs with his fingers buried inside of you. Never had you thought you’d have a man so handsome like this. Even if you were just another exam to him, you knew you’d never forget the sight of him like this.

Kenjaku winked at you before lowering his face, tongue teasingly licking at your sensitive clit. You had to bite harder into your hand to keep your sounds in. Everything already felt too overwhelming, but his warm tongue lavishing your clit with attention was beyond anything you thought a person could feel.

The sight of him sucking at your clit was something you wanted burned into your mind. A strand of dark hair loose, tickling the strangely attractive stitches on his face. Kenjaku’s eyes, staring up and into yours as he took your clit fully into his mouth and sucked. It was too much, you wanted to look away but his eyes held you still somehow.

His fingers hadn’t stopped rubbing the sensitive spot inside of you, they had moved onto pressing against it. Hand shallowly thrusting directly into the nerves, making your body quiver.

You couldn’t take it any longer, feeling something snap inside of you. Kenjaku didn’t relent as you felt your body overcome with more pleasure than you thought possible. It was as if you were drowning in the way he made you feel, his hands and mouth forcing you to experience something so intense.

As he pulled his fingers from you, you could feel yourself dripping. Kenjaku had made more of a mess of you than you ever could have expected. He sat up slowly, chin glistening with evidence of your first orgasm all over it.

“See? If you tell the doctor what you need, they may be able to fix it for you. Do you feel educated now? Or do I need to have you back for another appointment, just to make sure you’re able to achieve repeat results at home,” Kenjaku’s words were a jumbled mess to you.

Nodding, you hoped he would be willing to see you again. There was no way you would ever pass up the chance to experience something like this again.

#kenjaku #jjk x reader #kenjaku x reader #jjk smut #kenjaku jjk #kenjaku smut #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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mykinkyyandere · 1 year

Text

I See You (Chapter 1)

AO3

Pairings: Yandere/Dark! Sully Family X f!Reader

Summary: You know that after the Sully brothers found you, your life will never be the same again. A part of you want to forget about your past and start a new life with this obsessed family, but your past is not very happy about it. No matter where you run, your past hunts you down, and you are not sure if your new protective family can protect you from it.

Warnings: Only this chapter's pairings and warnings, yandere, obsession, possession, kidnapping, jealousy, overprotective, small sized/shaped reader, major (18/21) teen reader/Neteyam/Lo'ak

The pleasant sunlight reflected through the trees danced on Lo'ak's skin. When he smiled, you thought it made him even sincerer. Of course, it could also be due to the fact that he's been trying to approach you quite gently for the last half hour. Neteyam, on the other hand, remained in the shade and his serious face failed to give you warmth. He kept watching you and warning his brother from time to time.

Lo'ak tried to get your attention by waving the leaf in his hand. You were tiny. "Hey! Look what I have."

Neteyam rolled his eyes and hit Lo'ak's hand, causing him to drop it. "Stop it."

Yes, he's got your attention like he wanted but not with that big glowing leaf, with his tall blue body. You were obviously scared, he could tell based upon that shaky little body of yours.

"Hey-" Lo'ak protested him. Then he knelt down to be the same height as you, but of course he was still too tall. You looked into his big, sharp yellow eyes as if you were hypnotized. When he held out his hand to you, you leaned even more, like it was possible, into the tree behind you and made a timid sound.

Neteyam grabbed Lo'ak by the shoulder and warned him harshly. "What are you doing?"

He shook his brother's hand off his shoulder and turned his head to him with an annoyed expression. "And what are YOU doing, besides nothing?"

"I'm trying not to scare this human girl. We must wait for dad, he knows people better than us." But he still knelt down next to Lo'ak and tried to look less threatful. People could feel under pressure just because of their height.

"See, it wouldn't be bad if you listened to me sometimes." Lo'ak withdrew his smug gaze from him and turned it to you. You haven't said any word since they found you. When you tried to escape, they easily cut off your path and cornered you. You thought they were going to hurt you, kill you. But these two proved you wrong. They kept their curious gaze hovering over you and tried to communicate with you with various strange things, mostly the younger boy called Lo'ak did. Neteyam seemed like more cautious and quite.

"I'm Lo'ak. My name is Lo'ak." Maybe it was the tenth time he said his name. He was also using his hands so that you could understand him better. "Do you understand me?" He pointed himself, "Lo'ak."

"I don't think this is working. Look at her." He pointed with his head to your scared and confused face. "I guess she doesn't understand us."

"Or she can't talk." Lo'ak took a flower that he thought was beautiful and handed it to you.

"Perhaps both. She didn't try to talk to us either." Neteyam took his hand to his thoughtful face and tried to understand. "What is she doing here alone, it's very dangerous for her."

Lo'ak smiled when you timidly took the flower he handed to you. "Simple, she's lost. But we can take her with us. She'll be safe with us."

Neteyam didn't react to the idea of taking you with them. You thought he didn't want you and you were relieved by this possibility. "There must be others around. I'm sure she's with them, but why did they bring someone like... her?" This time he pointed your poor body which was clinged to a tree. Your small size aroused their curiosity, but while Lo'ak had fun with it, Neteyam was a little more... concerned. He made it clear that he certainly did not approve. "Look how small she is! Did they send her as bait?"

"Whatever the reason is, they're probably looking for her right now. Or... they left her for dead. What do you suggest?" You didn't hesitate this time when Lo'ak gave you another flower. He didn't need to hear his brother's consent. He rather asked him to make him say the obvious answer out loud.

"Of course we're taking her with us. Why do you think I asked dad to come here?"

You couldn't hide your nervousness when he mentioned that the possibilities of releasing you were unlikely from the very beginning. You dropped the flowers Lo'ak gave you and tried to run in the opposite direction. But before you could even take a real step, Neteyam easily grabbed you from where he was kneeling and put you in your place. "Okay, you definitely understand us."

When you tried to run away again, he grabbed you, and this time he didn't free you. As though it wasn't enough that your arm was stuck in his huge hand, Lo'ak also grabbed your other arm and together they forced you to sit down. You looked at them in despair.

"I think she didn't like the idea of coming with us." Lo'ak picked up the flowers you threw on the ground and wanted to give them to you again, but you struggled in despair and started crying.

"We won't hurt you. We want to protect you. See, dangerous place!" Neteyam assured you many times that they would not harm you, but you refused to listen to him and tried to get out of their hands as if your life depended on it. Your arms were hurting, and their rock-still grip hadn't loosened even for a moment. Their bright yellow eyes didn't help either. So intense, so alarming.

"I know how you feel. You feel like an outsider, just like me." When you finally got tired and stopped struggling, Lo'ak leaned to your face and tilted his head, trying to make eye contact. There was excitement in his eyes. "You think you don't belong, but- but believe me I've never felt I belonged either. We are the same."

It was hard to understand what this boy, who looked exactly like his brother, meant. Did he just really mean that he was as different as you? You had noticed his fingers and eyebrows were different, but you didn't think it was a big deal. People were different too, what was wrong with that? Or, was there discrimination among the Na'vi? Just like stupid people make fun of and humiliate those who are different from them.

"Bro, cut the nonsense." Neteyam shook his head and gave a deep breath. "Seriously, what the hell are you saying?"

"You could never understand. But she sees me. I know it." Lo'ak said, caressing your arm. He handed you the flowers again and waited for you to move your hand. Ignoring his brother's annoyed stare, he kept looking at you and smiled. "I know you see me."

When you looked at the flowers, you forgot for a while that they wanted to take you with them, or in other words, kidnap you. You didn't want to upset this excited boy who was waiting for you to take the flowers with the joy that he was finally not alone. A momentary warmth came over your heart. But only momentary.

"She is a human, we are Na'vi. Don't make this girl a victim for your own troubles." Neteyam freed you from his brother's hand and stood up. He hid you behind him. Lo'ak didn't take it as a defeat. He immediately got up and hissed at him. Neteyam didn't seem to be affected by this. When Lo'ak tried to hold you, he pushed him and hissed back in response.

"Just because you're the perfect little son, you think you have the right to claim her, don't you?" Lo'ak shouted, making you cling Neteyam's leg.

"You don't know what you're talking about. I'm responsible for this human girl now, just like I'm responsible for you. Listen to reason." He said calmly, as far as possible. He patted your head to soothe you. You were so overwhelmed by this arguing.

"What? You have everything I always long and you receive everything I always deserve. I won't let you to have her, too!" He came closer to take you but Neteyam put his forefinger up and pointed at his face. "Back off."

The tension between the two caused a strange silence. Lo'ak didn't back off and Neteyam didn't put his finger down. Nature also became silent, as if she felt this tension. You wondered if these two fiery brothers were going to fight. Maybe you could had the opportunity to run, but of course you were unlucky.

"What's going on here? Lo'ak?" Great, another nervous blue man. He was much, much taller and built. 'Their father', you thought. He looked directly at you. Your clinged form around Neteyam's leg made him smile. So it was you, the tiny, scared, helpless human girl his son was talking about. He probably wasn't prejudiced against you, since Neteyam said his father understands 'human' better. You saw his stern stare soften when he saw you. It was hard to guess how much he liked you. Because there was also a woman with him. A rather creepy Na'vi with a sharp and questioning gaze. You felt she wasn't pleased at all with your presence, and this made you cling even more tightly to the leg of the blue boy.

"I didn't do anything." Lo'ak muttered, bowing his head. It made him angry that their fight, which hadn't yet begun, had ended this way. "I wanted to give comfort to this girl."

"Sir, I overreacted to protect the girl. It's all my fault."

"Quiet!"

You jumped with the woman's sudden voice and gasped with fear. She came forward and approached you. There were different glints in her eyes. Hatred, fear, suspicion...

When Neteyam tried to separate you from his leg, you didn't want to leave. You felt like this woman's wild gaze was going to kill you right there. Unfortunately, Neteyam whispered that there was nothing to worry about and separated you from himself. You thought she was going to choke you. Maybe that's what she wanted, too. You didn't even realize that Neteyam, Lo'ak and their father were waiting to save you in case of a possible situation. Obviously, nature was also waiting. For some reason, she wanted you to live. Tiny creatures flew on you, flowers and wind almost danced around you, and even sounds that only Na'vi could hear were around. She closed her eyes and listened. She seemed peaceful, relaxed. Eywa said you were belong.

The mother bent down, opening one leg to the side, and fixed her curious eyes on your face. She was very close, and very tall. But she didn't look like she wanted to hurt you anymore. Her gaze turned to amazement, clearly she felt emotions that you couldn't make sense of. "You, come with us."

The woman straightened up without waiting for an answer or objection and walked from the direction she had come.

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therhythmafterthesummer · 9 months

Text

A Mutually Beneficial Agreement (M) ~Bang Chan | [1/3]

Pairing: Demon!Chan x F.Reader Themes: Supernatural AU | Smut | Established Relationship (kind of) Word Count: ~3k | AO3 Synopsis: How ironic... to have found yourself entangled with a demon called Christopher, of all things. Some people would’ve made you believe he was taking advantage of you. But you knew better. [Find part 2 here]. Warnings: pet names · there seems to be specks of plot in my corn (pwp) · Chris has horns and a tail (feels like that deserves a warning on its own) · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut).

Author’s Note: finally sat down to finish this idea i had ages ago. i’ve been in a bit of a slump lately, so this was certainly a nice warm-up. this is all just filth, and i dedicate it to my fellow monster lovers. especial thanks to @notastraykid & @kisskissbanggang for reading this one and sharing their valuable thoughts with me. it means the world to me💜

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Part 2 >

Smut Warnings: literal monster cock · praising · smidge of degradation · unprotected penetration [piv & anal] (the reader is presumed to be on birth control) · the tail goes in places it probably shouldn’t go into · double penetration · minimal nipple action.

Disclaimer: the story presented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

“You’re so warm, sweetheart…” Chris mumbled against your cheek, all while he held your jaw in place with his hand.

“So warm and soft…”

With his chest partially against your back, one of your legs over his hip, keeping your legs as spread open as much as this position allowed, Chris kept each thrust controlled, and his rhythm steady.

“So… mortal…”

The feeling of his cock splitting you open repeatedly had your mind disconnected from anything that wasn’t him and you on this bed, and it wasn’t like you wanted it to be any other way.

You weren’t really sure how long you’d been here, much less how many times either of you had reached that perfect peak. Your thoughts were just muddied images, the only thing you could see clearly was Chris.

Chris, and his charming smile, and his ageless eyes, and the horns on his head, and his perfect nose…

The weight of his arm on your chest and the tight hold on your jaw felt heavenly, just like his length within your walls did.

“Mortal, but incredibly talented… Perfectly capable of… taking me, of giving me everything. Hm?”

His voice was but a whisper against your cheek. There was no way you wouldn’t have been able to hear him when he was this close, when you both were one and the same with how intertwined you were, when every single one of your senses were solely focused on him…

It wasn’t just his length or what he was saying that had your mind hazy. It was also the pants and groans and grunts he let out, all the kisses he pressed on the side of your face, and the feeling of his thick tail wrapped around your waist.

Chris had a way with words, and whenever he talked like this to you, whenever he let out his thoughts completely unfiltered while you had sex, you couldn’t help but feel tingly all over. Aroused, warmer, wetter…

“Can’t talk, darling?” Chris mumbled, each word made his lips brush against the skin of your cheek. He pressed a lingering kiss on your skin, keeping the pace of his hips just as steady as he had this entire time, unfaltering, somewhat slow, but precise.

You opened your mouth to speak, to confirm what he’d said much earlier. That yes, yes you were more than capable of taking anything he wanted to give you, that you could talk. But, honestly, you couldn’t really confirm that, not when what came out of your mouth instead was a moan.

He chuckled, clearly amused. So amused he quickened his pace, further clouding your reason. Just his mere presence set your insides alight, that, added to his motions, to his words, was just so incredibly dangerous. He had your mind going all fuzzy, drunk on his aura and the feel of him.

A priest would tell you this was all a curse, that the demon laying here with you was manipulating you for his own gain, enhancing your lust and sins so he could ultimately devour you whole for his own pleasure.

But you knew better.

There was no way you wouldn’t have known better, when this arrangement had been going for so long. Chris had always made it very clear that he’d never used any spell or mind control to make you do the things you did, his presence simply enhanced what was already there.

And you believed him.

‘Sinful little human, aren’t you?’ You could still remember the first time he told you that, back when you found him by a tree in the town’s cemetery.

You’d given in to him so easily… And, honestly? You had no regrets. Zero regrets.

Especially when he was fucking you this good, when he fucked you this good several nights a week.

‘All these endorphin rushes keep us healthy, hm?’ Chris said sometimes, and you couldn’t help but agree. Sometimes you were groggy and achy the next day, but you were certainly satisfied, even happy… What an odd emotion to feel thanks to a demon.

“Have you gone dumb already?” Chris chuckled. You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but you nodded anyway. Because it was true, you couldn’t even speak at this point. “Aww, pretty little human has gone dumb on my cock, poor thing…”

There was something about his condescending tone that made pleasure pool in the pit of your stomach, that made your lower belly tighten further. Needy, needy, needy, needy… You could almost hear his voice in your mind, and you honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it truly was him speaking to you. It wouldn’t have been the first time his thoughts slipped into yours while you both got lost in each other.

Chris’ hand loosened its grip on your face, while his tail unravelled from around your waist. His fingers ghosted all the way down your torso, between your breasts, over your belly, until they reached that borderline overstimulated nub between your legs. You couldn’t help but mewl, a sound that was almost pathetic to your ears. Not only because of his motions on your clit, but also because his tail had made its way up your body, until it found one of your nipples to rub it gently with its tapered tip.

It was so much. He was so much. And, somehow, you still couldn’t get enough.

“C’mon, pretty thing”, Chris was panting, diligently stimulating those pleasure points of your body in just the exact way you needed him to, in that way you’d shown him how to all those months ago. “Aren’t you gonna bless me with another? I need it, darling. And I know you need it, too”.

His pace picked up, until he was almost brutally ramming into you, stretching you open to your very limits, stimulating your insides in ways only the bumps and ridges of his very supernatural cock could. You were certainly close, and you knew that it wouldn’t take long for you to finally come undone under his enticing motions.

You could barely register the sound of his name coming out of your mouth, not only because of how quiet you’d said it, but also because your mind was going completely numb, hazy as you drew closer and closer to that ledge. With the rough pad of his fingers, with the texture of the tip of his tail, Chris worked you up, and, just like you’d predicted, in a matter of minutes, you fell face first into that pool of burning ecstasy that Chris himself had prepared for you.

The feeling raked throughout your body, extending from your core to every single one of your limbs. You couldn’t tell if you were moaning, or crying, or saying his name. You couldn’t tell what was going on outside of the feeling of Chris’ skin on your own, of his breath against your cheek.

“That’s it, baby. I love it when you tremble for me. You’re so good, doing so well…” Chris whispered the words in your ear. You could barely hear them over the sound of your own heart beating within them.

Gasping for air, you released Chris’ tail from your grip. You honestly hadn’t even realised you’d grabbed it in your orgasm-induced frenzy. The tip of it had finally stopped stimulating your nipples. Instead, it found its way between your legs to replace his fingers on your clit, just to apply pressure on it to prolong the final waves of your climax while he used his now unoccupied hand to turn your head towards him so he could kiss you.

His thrusts had stopped, his tongue, forked and slightly textured, was gentle when it moved against your own, and his thumb softly caressed your cheek as you were barely conscious enough to kiss him back. The taste of him was addictive, his throbbing length within your warmth made you dizzier, and it was at moments like these that you were reminded of why you always let him into your bed.

Because you just couldn’t get enough.

When you fully came down from your high, you figured he’d start ramming into you once again so he could reach his own relief. Instead, he removed his hand from your face and brought it to your lower abdomen, where it settled to caress the skin.

“Say…” Chris mumbled, pressing a quick, brief peck on your lips before he pulled out of your walls.

The loss of contact almost made you whine, but when his hand left your lower abdomen, and you started feeling the slick tip of his cock against the sensitive skin of your ass, you looked at him through half lidded eyes, holding your breath in anticipation.

“Would you let me come in your perfect little hole, pet?” Chris’ tail moved away from your core to wrap around your thigh, squeezing the supple flesh as he continued to rub the head of his length over the ridged skin between your buttocks.

You swallowed, licking your lips while you nodded. You didn’t trust your voice right now, you just knew you were almost trembling with excitement at the thought. It had only been a couple of days, but you certainly missed the stretch, just his fingers earlier in the evening hadn’t been enough.

“Say it”, Chris reached for the bottle of lube that had been discarded next to the pillows, like he was sure you were going to comply.

And he was right. You were going to comply, you wanted to, needed to…

“Please…” Your voice was hoarse, low, tired after all the involuntary noises that had been escaping your mouth, but you did say the one thing you knew he wanted you to. And as soon as you did, you heard his deep intake of breath.

His tail moved your thigh, closing your legs, and your body moved instinctively, laying fully on your side so Chris could press his chest completely against your back. With a hand on your buttock, you helped him keep yourself spread open, exposed so the lubed tip of his cock could start pushing against the ring of muscle between your cheeks.

Breathing deeply, you willed yourself to relax, and after a few moments, he finally breached past the initial resistance, slowly, but steadily filling your ass with his monstrous cock. Chris groaned behind you, nuzzling your shoulder. You just whined, already feeling yourself heating up with the feel of him going into your hole.

As soon as he bottomed out, his hand found its way to your lower belly, gripping your soft flesh tightly while his sharp teeth scraped the skin of your shoulder. A shiver ran up your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The feeling of fullness within you was absolutely mouth-watering, but, still, you wanted more.

Reaching for Chris’ tail on your thigh, you ran your fingers through the black snakeskin. The motion had him swearing under his breath, right next to your ear. The skin of his tail was smooth, sensitive, shining under the low lighting provided by the lamp in the corner of your room. The shimmer and iridescence was like nothing you’d ever seen before. Pretty… So, so pretty…

“Chris…”

“…Hm?”

“Move”.

Chris inhaled sharply behind you, tightening his grip on your belly, and finally started to move. Slowly at first, to ensure you felt every ridge, every bump of his length, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. Oh, what a satisfying stretch…

When you dragged your nails over the texture on his tail, Chris groaned, and his pace picked up considerably. His tail unfurled, releasing your thigh for blood to rush back to the area–you honestly hadn’t even realised how tight he’d been holding onto you. The mild numbness didn’t prevent you from feeling its movement, though.

Releasing your tummy to instead hook his hand under your knee, Chris pushed your leg towards your chest, giving his tail plenty room to find its way between your legs.

You could feel your legs tremble, your heart almost leaping out of your chest, and, in a poor attempt to ground yourself, you reached back, finding Chris’ soft strands. But, most importantly, finding one of his horns.

The moment you held onto the keratin covering, Chris swore, borderline moaned under your tightening grip around the base of it. Before you knew it, the tip of his tail was at your entrance, teasing your opening while Chris kept brutally and repeatedly pushing himself into your ass. There was nothing you could coherently say or do. You knew what he wanted, what you wanted, but you just couldn’t speak.

However, you really didn’t need to say anything, as you mindlessly caressed the base of his horn, his tail had finally plunged itself right into your sopping cunt. Full, full, full, oh, so full of Chris… Just how you wanted to be, how he wanted it to be…

Warm, warm, warm, wet, tight… Chris didn’t say any of this, but you could hear him clear as day, even through the fog coating your thoughts. He was losing himself as well, and you could feel yourself gush around his tail with how aroused the thought made you, with how good he was fucking both of your holes.

“How are you… this soft and warm, hm? Warm little human. Lewd, sinful, aren’t you? Giving yourself to a demon so wholly…” Chris mumbled the words against the skin of your shoulder, broken between groans and whines of his own as you kept stroking the horn in your hand, as you kept squeezing him tight.

You just nodded, incapable of telling him anything else. You could feel the flesh of your bum ripple with each collision of his hips, and it wasn’t long until his thrusts and the movement of his tail became an uncoordinated mess. He was close, and you’d be damned if you didn’t make the most of it yourself.

With your fingers on your clit, you rubbed quick circles as best as you could in this position. Uncaring of the desperate moans coming out of your mouth, at your motions, at the stretch of his cock in your ass, and his tail within your walls, nudging your sweet spot.

“Shit… Fuck, gonna–gonna blow, pretty thing”, Chris was panting, breathless after hours of indulging in you and your body, and you certainly weren’t doing any better. “Stuff you full of me… Want it, pet? Want that?”

You nodded, frantically rubbing your clit as you chased your relief, telling him that yes, yes you wanted it. You wanted anything he was willing to give you.

With a desperate plea of your name, Chris finally came. His tail stopped moving, but his thrusts didn’t, he kept fucking into you as he filled up your ass, whining once your own orgasm washed over you and you started to clamp hard around his appendages. Whines of your own escaped from between your lips, your grip on his horn tightened, eliciting more desperate pleas from the demon behind you.

After one final thrust, keeping his hips as flush as he could with your buttocks, Chris finally stilled. Your throat was dry after doing nothing but moaning and crying for a while, your chest rose and fell with your quick breaths, and you could feel Chris’ doing the same against your back.

When his tail left the comfort of your warmth, it snaked all the way up your body, until the tip pressed against your lips, which you eagerly opened to let it in.

As you swirled your tongue around the textured skin, you could taste yourself on it, something that didn’t displease you in the slightest. If you hadn’t just spent hours here, you were sure just the texture and the taste on your tongue would’ve been enough to heat you up all over again.

Chris pressed tired, lingering kisses on your shoulder, just as he pulled out of your ass. Slowly, his cum spilled out and onto the now more than ruined bedsheets, joining the mix of fluids that had ended up there throughout the evening.

When you finally let go of his horn, when his tail finally popped out of your mouth, you turned around, looking into those dark eyes of his that always made a shiver run up and down your spine. Chris just grinned, a wolfish grin that had you scoffing a small laugh and rolling your eyes.

Your limbs were achy, your eyes could barely stay open, but you still let him pull you into his arms when he stood up from the bed. The sheets behind you started moving on their own as he walked you to your bathroom, where he sat you down on the toilet so he could diligently clean you up. A shower just wouldn’t be possible right now, you could barely stand straight, so he just made do with a jug and a washcloth.

One wouldn’t think a demon would be this gentle, but Chris was probably the oddest demon you’d ever met. ‘If I’m gonna do something, I better do it right’, he often said, and as you came to find out, this was just an integral part of fucking you as the act itself.

When you were finally mostly dry, laying your head on his chest with the now clean bedding under you, you could feel your eyes droop, vaguely even registering the words coming out of Chris’ mouth.

“When you wake up tomorrow, I won’t be here. But, with a bit of luck, I’ll be back in a couple of nights”, he mumbled, quietly as he caressed your hair and your back.

You just hummed to let him know you’d heard him. Not like he needed to tell you that, since it was always like this. He’d appear, feed off of your lust, and disappear for a few nights. That was your arrangement. It wasn’t conventional, nor normal in any way, but it was what you had, and, for now, it was enough. It was just what you needed yourself.

A priest would certainly tell you this was all a curse, that the demon laying here with you, cuddling you, was manipulating you for his own gain. But what a priest wouldn’t have known at first glance, was that you had summoned this demon yourself. That the only reason you let him into your bed and feed off of you, was because, in a way, you fed off of him, too.

Part 2 >

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