#most importantly its embarrassing as fuck why is it so embarrassing . for real why
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its so funny how much i dislike visiting doctors when thats my moms like. fave thing to do
#i also am oddly. like. not distrustful bc like i am not one of those ppl who like. dont believe in medicine or whatever?? but like#i do tend to b like i dont need <3 a doctor <3 ever <3#which is funny bc i also think im p bad with pain#but i also believe that i could be actively dying and still wld choose not to visit a doctor probably .#i stopped going to whoever was in charge of my migraines bc the first meds he gave me werent working and i absolutely hated having to take t#time to visit him n do all he asked for so i was just like nvm mom actually my migraines r better now dw <3 so we'd stop going . although ik#ik the reason why he cldnt help me was bc i prob didnt say enough etc but like yeah idk im living well now ig#i remember learning at some point that the person we were going to for my (n my brothers) braces actually fucked up and the braces werent p#properly measured (or whatever) for our teeth n thats prob why it was so painful so i think that was fucked up i never agreed to braces ever#ever since* even though i absolutely hate the way my teeth look#i dont like checking my eyesight because thats . well first of all time consuming to take the time to arrange n go to an appointment but mos#most importantly its embarrassing as fuck why is it so embarrassing . for real why#if i wasnt a litte crybaby i probably wldnt have gone to the er when i broke my foot bc i honestly was convinced that i was relatively fine#n didnt wanna go but i cried to my parents abt what happened when they got home so they were good parents n took me to the hospital . but ye#no one asked for my medical history im sorry guys
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imagination's curse
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✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader
✦ summary: you long for excitement in your mundane life, until you are suddenly visited by a strange, beautiful woman who upends your world and thrusts you into a whirlwind of pleasure and danger.
✦ genre/au: smut (MDNI!!), succubus!bada, basically pwp
✦ word count: 6k
✦ warnings: probably has grammatical/spelling errors, mentions of demons and occult activities, top!bada (she's doing all the work), fingering, cunnilingus, bit of thigh riding, y/n is a weakling, somebody dies (or do they?)
✦ a/n: this is very different from other fics I've written, in genre and length, because after watching bebe's imagination video on repeat, i decided to temporarily drop the other fic i was working on to write this! we will be getting back to the more simple (and long) fics I've written before, but i hope you guys still enjoy this in the meantime! i purposely left this open-ended in case i, or you guys, wanted to see a continuation of this story at some point. lmk if that would be of interest to y'all!
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Beyond the restaurant windows, rain pounds against the earth. The rhythmic drumming of the rain lulls you into a trance-like state, eyes glossing over and body becoming numb. The soft jazz music coming from the speakers overhead only enhances your drowsiness, making you melt into your seat like heated wax. You rest your chin in the palm of your hand and stare out at the street, watching cars pass by and disappear into the darkness. Your eyelids become heavy and you blink, attempting to bring your attention back to the real world, and, probably most importantly, the person in front of you.
You sigh, slouching forward in your chair. Your date, Seolhyun, has been droning on for the last twenty minutes about her schoolwork. Her mouth is moving, but your mind isn't registering her words. You can't bring yourself to care. She seems somewhat nice, and she's devastatingly pretty, but those were about the only two qualities of value that you could conjure up. This wouldn't have been so bad, if this date hadn't essentially turned into a one-sided conversation she was having with herself. You don't think you've said more than three words since the both of you sat down.
"Like, nursing is so boring and depressing. I don't get why so many people are into it," she says, taking a bite of her food. "I want to do something interesting and fresh, like, modeling, or something. Or, maybe I'll switch my major to art. I take really good pictures of my friends. Isn't there a photography concentration in the arts program?"
Seolhyun looks over at you expectantly, waiting for your input. You have no idea what the answer is, so you just shrug and give her a fake, tight-lipped smile.
"Yeah, you know what? I think I'm gonna talk to my advisor tomorrow. It's just that my dad is the problem. Whenever I talk to my dad he's like, nooooo. That's not what I've been sending you money for. He's so old fashioned."
"Oh," you respond, your voice monotone. There is a part of you that can't help but feel a little bad about zoning out and ignoring her, but you've had your fill of boring conversations about family and school and life aspirations. This was nothing new.
She slams one of her hands on the table, making you jump so high you nearly knock your glass of water over.
"And it's silly because he's the one who wanted me to go to college sooo badly, so how are you going to complain about paying for it? Its like—and not to sound like a cunt—we do pretty well for ourselves. I don't need to be the moneymaker! I get he wants me to be the head nurse at the hospital he owns, but honestly, fuck that hospital. Fuck the patients too!" she continues, her voice raised loud enough to capture the attention of the nearby tables. You can feel their eyes on you, and a wave of embarrassment washes over you. You glance around the room, trying not to make eye contact with anyone, slowly sliding down in your seat.
"He's just...he's such a hardass. Doesn't let me do anything. It's a real shame," she finishes, huffing in annoyance.
You nod. "Right, it is a real shame." you mumble, still avoiding others' judgemental gazes.
She doesn't seem to notice how uncomfortable you've become, or the attention that she's gathering. Instead, she grins."I know! I'm so glad you get it."
The only thing you're getting is murderous. You needed to get out of here, quickly. As if hearing your internal cries for help, the waiter appears, asking if the two of you would like to see the dessert menu. You shake your head.
"Oh, no. Just the check please," you say, glancing up at him.
Seolhyun nods in agreement. "Yeah, I'm done. This salad was kinda trash. No offense. Sorry." She picks up her napkin and dabs it at her mouth.
The waiter grimaces. "No problem. I'll be right back."
As the waiter walks off, you turn back to Seolhyun, forcing yourself to smile. She jumps right back into her complaints, albeit more quietly, and fidgets with the stem of her wine glass. You tune her out again, no longer feeling guilty for doing so. The only thing that brings your attention back to reality is the waiter setting the bill face-down on the table. He bids you both goodnight before walking off, and when you look up, you almost want to laugh.
A guilty expression flashes across Seolhyun's face, and she leans over the table, looking at the check. She clears her throat, and you already know what she's about to say.
"Do you have your card on you? Sorry, I think I left mine at home. I'll totally venmo you after this." She laughs awkwardly, sitting back in her seat.
You roll your eyes, but reach for your wallet. "Whatever."
After dinner, the two of you step out of the restaurant and into the rain, huddling under the overhang as you try to find an escape from the downpour.
"Well, it was nice chatting with you, y/n," she says, stepping towards the edge of the overhang. "Hope we can hang out again soon."
"Yeah, definitely," you lie.
"Awesome! Talk to you later, then." She smiles, and you know she's lying too.
Seolhyun walks out into the rain and you watch as she crosses the street, heading toward a pink Tesla.
"Bitch," you murmur bitterly, pulling your hood over your head.
You don't want to spend money on an Uber, and the walk to the nearest bus stop isn't very far, so you decide to trek through the rain, praying that the bus won't take long. You zip up your coat and adjust your hood, stepping out into the rain. The cold pelts against your face and seeps through the material of your clothes, causing goosebumps to break out on your skin. You curse, and pull your arms close to your body, walking faster. The streetlamps lining the road provide enough light for you to see where you're going despite the dark clouds overhead, their glow casting an orange glow against the pavement.
As you walk, your thoughts turn back to your disastrous date. You didn't mean to act like such an ass, but it was impossible not to when the entire evening had consisted of her talking about herself and how difficult her life was. The worst part is, she actually seemed to think you were a good listener, even with your blank stares and monosyllabic responses.
Deep down, you know that it's not entirely Seolhyun's fault. Today felt like a culmination of all the ways you've been failing lately. In short, it's been a bad week. A bad month. A bad year. At all points, you've felt as though there was no escape from the dullness of your life, like you were being suffocated, drowned in a pool of water with no way to save yourself. These were your college years, and you came to the realization last year that all you've been doing was sitting in your room, studying, going to class, and then going home. No parties, no drama, no adventures, no romance, nothing. Even worse, it seemed like everyone else had already started their lives and were living them. It was infuriating, seeing everyone around you have fun, while you were stuck in this weird limbo of mediocrity.
In attempts to find some excitement, you downloaded a dating app and started going out more, meeting people, but so far, all the dates have ended up being like this. Boring, or just plain awkward. You've tried to make changes—different clothes, makeup, hair—anything to shake things up, and while that was nice and made you feel pretty, it didn't change the fact that your life was still dull. And now, you're just exhausted, constantly feeling like you're going through the motions.
Nothing has worked. This was probably the tenth horrible date you've been on in two months. Maybe, this was just your life now, and you had to come to terms with it. Bland, and as bleak as the clouds overhead.
Which seem to have gotten even darker, you notice, as you approach the bus stop. You stand underneath the shelter, rubbing your hands together and blowing on them. The streets are completely deserted. You shiver, your damp clothes clinging to your skin, and hug yourself tightly, trying to keep warm. You try to look for any sign of the bus, but the rain is coming down too hard, the air is heavy with fog, and you can't see further than a few feet away. A prickle of fear runs down your spine. You didn't even think to check if the buses were running late. What if they're not running at all?
Just as you reach for your phone to check the time, you hear the screeching of bus brakes and let out a sigh of relief. You're saved.
You stand at the edge of the sidewalk, watching as the bus slowly pulls up in front of the stop. The door opens and you step inside, moving as quickly as you can. The warm air instantly hits your face, but the heat does nothing to thaw the chill that has set in your bones.
You pay the driver and walk to the back, taking a seat near the window. The bus is nearly empty, save for an old woman and a couple of teenagers sitting towards the front.
You pull your phone out of your pocket and plug in your earbuds. Music starts playing, drowning out the noise of the rain and the rumble of the engine.
After a few stops, the bus reaches your destination and the doors open, the sound of the rain pouring down and the wind blowing in, bringing with it a cool breeze. You get off, and begin the trek home, your sneakers splashing through puddles as you make your way down the street.
The wind picks up, the gusts blowing hard enough to cause the street lamps to flicker and sway. They cast shadows against the ground and walls of the buildings, which appear and disappear in the blink of an eye. The rain comes down harder, falling in thick, heavy sheets. You quicken your pace, the muscles in your legs burning as you move, your heart rate quickening.
Finally, your apartment building comes into view. You run, sprinting the last block and darting up the steps, the water squishing between your toes. Excitement blooms in your chest as you grab the door handle and pull it open, the prospect of a dry place to lay your head making you feel better.
As soon as you cross the threshold of your building, you pull your hood down, the smell of mildew hitting your nose. Your shoes squeak against the wet floor, and you leave a trail of water droplets and mud as you head toward the elevator.
The ride up is excruciatingly slow. You tap your foot impatiently, watching the numbers climb, and think about the warm bed that's awaiting you, how good it'll feel to wrap yourself in a blanket and forget about this miserable night. If your roommate allows it.
Once your mind drifts to her, your excitement dwindles. Fatigue weighs heavy on your shoulders, and you long for nothing more than to be asleep in the comfort of your own bed, but you know it's a rubbish wish, thanks to Aeri.
Recently, home hasn't been particularly enjoyable either. You used to have a roommate who didn't bother you. Then, she dropped out, and you were stuck with rent, an empty room, and the task of finding a new roommate. It was a difficult process, with most candidates seeming creepy or annoying or gross. Then, you ran into Aeri, who was by no means a perfect match, but seemed good enough. She was a bit awkward, and you didn't really know what to make of the intense gothic attire she was sporting during your initial meeting. She seemed incredibly nice and easygoing, though, and she smelled good. Was that not all you needed? So, running out of time, you swallowed your apprehension and gave her the spare keys to your apartment.
For the most part, you didn't regret your decision. She was, in fact, one of the sweetest, most caring people you've ever met, frequently baking treats for you when she knew you were having a particularly terrible day and listening to you vent about your dating diasters. But, there were a few small issues that had cropped up, and they happened to occur most often at night.
Your stomach does flip-flops the higher the numbers get, until, finally, the elevator dings, and the doors open. You shuffle out into the hall, pulling out your keys and heading toward the apartment. When you're in front of the door, you hesitate, the key hovering in the air as you stare at the peephole. You take a deep breath and push the door open, the smell of incense instantly hitting your nose as you step inside of the dark apartment. You slip off your wet shoes and hang your jacket up on your worn-out coat rack.
"I'm back," you call, closing the door behind you. You step further into the apartment and glance around as you walk into the living room, where you are met with a sight you're not prepared for.
Your eyes squint to adjust to the dark and take in the scene before you. The air is thick and heavy, engulfed by the scent of a sweet, intoxicating perfume. Candles are placed throughout the space, their warm glow casting shadows on the wall. Aeri kneels in the middle of the living room, wearing a cloak, her hands hovering above an intricate pentagram on the floor. She mumbles something to herself that you cannot understand, her eyes closed. Her hair falls over her face and her lips move, but no words are uttered.
"Aeri, what are you doing?" you ask, taking a tentative step forward.
Aeri's head snaps up, her eyes wide, and the mumbling stops.
"Oh, hey, you're back," she says, her tone a bit nervous. Her hands tremble as she moves the hood of her cloak back. "Sorry, I didn't know you'd be back so soon. I was just—uh—you know."
"No, actually. I don't. What are you doing?" You repeat, folding your arms in front of you.
She looks around the room, before returning her gaze to you. "Uh...meditating?"
And this was the problem. Shortly after Aeri moved in, she brought her witchy occult shit with her. You don't really believe in any of it, so you typically ignore her and carry on with your day when you see her pull out one of her spellbooks at the dinner table. Except for days like this, when she goes too far, gets too loud, and keeps you up at night with her antics. Then, she becomes public enemy number one.
You glare at her. "With a pentagram on the floor? Please. This is..."
You pause, scanning the room again. There's something particularly wrong today, but you can't quite place it. There's heaviness in the air, a heightened version of the feeling you get when you're in a haunted house, except there are no clowns or people cosplaying as serial killers, just candles and a pentagram and Aeri, staring up at you.
"Bizarre. This is bizarre. Even for you." you finish, narrowing your eyes. "What's going on?"
"Nothing!" She squeaks, her voice strained. "I was just...doing some reading about a spell that could, uh. Fix a problem that I’ve been having. I decided to try it out today"
You pinch the bridge of your nose and let out an exasperated sigh. You're tired. Your hair is drenched. Your shirt is clinging to your back. You couldn't be bothered with this.
"Listen, I don't think I actually care about what you have going on. But, I have an exam tomorrow, I've had a rough day, and I need some rest. Can you promise to keep it down in here while I sleep?"
Aeri looks around, a guilty expression on her face, before nodding her head. "Sure, yeah. No problem. I’m sorry."
"Thank you," you say, and turn on your heels without another word.
You make your way through the hallway and enter your bedroom, shutting the door behind you.
Your room is dark and cold, but you can't bother to turn the lights on or get under the covers. Instead, you lay down on the bed, your limbs splayed out. Your hair is still wet, and you can feel the moisture seeping into your comforter, but you can't even think to move.
You're too tired to bother changing into your pajamas. Too tired to do anything but sleep. So, you shove off your socks and rain-soaked jeans and call it a day. You crawl into bed, pulling the blankets over your body until they rest just below your chin. The warmth envelopes you and you're finally able to relax. You stare up at the ceiling, watching the fan spin slowly, praying for a peaceful night's rest. Lately, you've been plagued by strange dreams you can't remember when you wake up. Although they've been forgetful, they usually keep you tossing and turning in your sleep throughout the night. But, tonight, your eyelids are so heavy you can barely keep them open, and within seconds, you drift off into unconsciousness, the world slipping away and the darkness consuming you. The smell of Aeri's incense and the sound of the rain lulls you into a slumber unlike never before, submerged into a dark void of nothing.
That is, until you feel something touch you. You awaken with a start, jolting upright in your bed, your heart racing. The room is dark, illuminated only by the light of the moon shining through the window. You glance around frantically, searching for the source of the touch, but there's nothing, no sign of life. Just shadows, and the sound of your breathing. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. It's probably just the wind or an insect. You're tired, and your deteriorating mind is playing tricks on you. There's nothing to be scared of.
You lay back down, pulling the blankets up to your chin, and take a deep breath, closing your eyes. Your heartbeat begins to slow, and you exhale, trying to relax. A few minutes pass, and you begin to drift off once again, when, suddenly, you feel something against your neck. A cold, soft pressure. Like a feather, brushing across your skin.
"Y/N." A soft, gentle voice whispers.
Your eyes flutter open, and you are met with the sight of a woman's face, inches away from yours. You gasp and shoot up again, nearly slamming your forehead against hers. The woman backs away, allowing you to regain your bearings. You blink a few times, shaking your head to try to wake yourself up, but she remains., staring at you with an expression that could only be described as amused.
The moonlight streams in through the window, giving the woman's figure an almost ethereal glow. You've never seen her before. She has a stupefying, otherworldly, beauty about her, with dark eyes and full lips that accentuate her sharp jawline. She's wearing a black, silky nightgown that clings to her body. Her pale, delicate-looking skin shines in the moonlight, and her dark hair, interlaced with another color, cascades down her back, falling over her shoulders.
You look around the room, expecting the lights to turn on and an elaborate prank to be revealed, but the room is just as dark and empty as you remember. When your eyes fall back onto the woman, she is staring back at you, a soft smile on her face.
"Who the fuck are you?" you force out, your voice trembling.
She quirks an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side. "Were you not expecting me?"
You scoff, nearly choking on your own saliva. "No! Of course not. I've never seen you before in my life. What the hell is going on? And how do you know my name?"
Her eyes light up with mirth, and her smile widens as if she's in on some sort of joke.
"Oh, this is interesting," she starts, clasping her hands together. "This is very interesting."
As a primal fear takes hold of your body, interesting is the last word that comes to your brain to describe the situation you've found yourself in. Albeit hot, this random woman broke into your apartment to do God knows what to you and your belongings. Who knows if she's already murdered Aeri. Or, perhaps, this is a lucid dream, and you're experiencing some sort of weird hallucination. Either way, you wanted out. Now.
You release a shaky exhale in a poor attempt to calm your nerves. "I'm gonna call the cops, okay? But, I really don't want any trouble. If you leave now, I won't tell anyone about this."
The woman stares at you for a moment, her expression unreadable, before erupting into a fit of laughter. You blink, unsure of how to proceed. She continues to laugh, her hand clutching her chest as her whole body shakes. The sound is melodic, and it rings out like the chimes of a bell, the notes flowing effortlessly into the air. It's almost enchanting, and you find yourself lost in the melody until she quiets down and straightens up, a soft smile on her face.
"That's completely unnecessary. I'm not here to cause you any harm, Y/N," she says, and, somehow, her voice is even more hypnotic than her laugh. Some of your fear dissipates, but the confusion remains.
"Why are you here, then?" you question, unable to keep the suspicion out of your tone.
"To give you a little bit of help. I know you've been struggling." She replies, her voice dripping with sympathy.
"How do you know that?"
She smiles, the expression making her features seem even more radiant than before. "I know a lot of things. 'How' is irrelevant. What's more important is that I know exactly how I can help you tonight. You need...a stress reliever. I can do that for you. If you're up for it, that is."
"A stress reliever?" You echo, and the way her eyes sparkle in the moonlight, her lips quirked up in a seductive smirk, her voice low and smooth, makes it abundantly clear what she's implying. Your cheeks flush and heat rushes through your body. This couldn't be real. Could it?
"I don't think we're on the same page. I mean, a...stress reliever. I don't know if I understand," you say, shifting uncomfortably.
"You're a bit slow, aren't you?" she asks a devilish grin stretching across her face, and, she's probably right. You feel like a fish out of water, opening and closing your mouth like an idiot. The worst part of it is, she seems to be enjoying your floundering, grinning wider as she watches you stutter.
"There's no need to worry," she purrs, taking a step closer, her dark eyes shining. "You just need to relax. It'll be fun."
The sane, rational part of your brain is screaming, yelling, begging for you to run out of the room. Anybody with half a brain could decipher that the sensible thing to do in this situation would be to flee, grab a weapon, and call the police. Yet, here you are, lying still, the woman's words ringing in your ears. Fun. It's been a long time since you've had fun. You can't even remember the last time you've gotten remotely close to it. And, as if she was sent from above, here was a beautiful, mysterious woman, offering it to you on a platter. You can't help but be a bit curious. Curious about the strange, magical feeling that's coursing through your veins.
Plus, your body is aching for touch, and the idea of sleeping with a beautiful woman is incredibly tempting, especially in your state. It's been months since you've had sex.
The woman takes a step closer, and your stomach does a flip. This is stupid. It's dangerous, and stupid, and it would be so easy to say no.
"You won't hurt me, right?" You ask, a nervous edge creeping into your voice.
"You'll enjoy every second we spend together," she says, her eyes stroking over you. Her gaze is so intense, her voice so soothing, all you want is to please her. You don't think. You no longer have the ability to. Your desire is too strong.
"What are you going to do?" you ask, the words tumbling out of your mouth.
"That depends on you," she says, her fingers brushing the edge of the duvet. "What would you like me to do?"
You look into her dark, all-consuming eyes, and shiver. Your blood feels like it's on fire. "I—um—whatever you had in mind."
Her eyes narrow, her lips curling up into a smirk. She leans in, her warm breath ghosting your lips. You can smell her perfume, the scent of vanilla and lavender assaulting your senses.
Your heart beats fast, and you can't help the small whimper that escapes your throat.
"Are you sure?" she says, her voice low. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into."
She's right. For all you knew, her idea of fun could include a knife and a casket. But you couldn't bring yourself to care, not when she's looking at you like that.
"I don't care," you say, your voice hoarse. "Do whatever you want with me."
The corners of her lips curl upwards, and her eyes twinkle with mischief. "Okay," she whispers, her voice soft and sweet.
She leans forward, her lips ghosting yours. You hold your breath, anticipating her next move. Her hand moves up to cup your cheek, her thumb rubbing small circles on your skin that send a tingle down your spine. You lean into the touch, and her smile widens. She tilts her head to the side, and presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. The contact is soft, tender, and sweet. Her lips are warm, and the touch is brief, but enough to ignite the flames within your veins. You gasp, moving your head to try to capture her lips with yours, and she chuckles, pulling away.
"You're so impatient," she says, her eyes gleaming. "Desperate, even."
Embarrassment creeps up on you, and you flush, averting your gaze. She laughs again, and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at her.
"Don't hide from me," she whispers, her voice soft. "There's nothing wrong with wanting something."
With her words, the fire within you flares, and the embers within your belly burst into an inferno. Your whole body is burning, yearning, and you can't help the sigh that escapes your throat. She hums, staring at you with her piercing gaze. You've never felt this exposed, so vulnerable, so completely bare in front of another person, and you are still partially clothed. She seems to be studying you, taking in every detail, memorizing the expressions on your face. She's looking at you like you're prey, a feast, and it should scare you, should make you tremble, but it doesn't.
"Kiss me," you murmur, and she obeys.
You let out a small gasp, and her lips curve into a smile against yours as you make contact. Your eyes flutter shut, and the warmth of her mouth almost sends you spiraling. The feeling is electric, like a bolt of lightning, and it sets every nerve ending within your body alight. Her tongue glides along your bottom lip, and you part them willingly, allowing her all of the access she desires. Her tongue is warm, and wet, and her kisses are intoxicating. She tastes sweet, like strawberries and vanilla, and you can't help but moan.
She pulls away, prompting an involuntary whimper from you."Is this what you wanted, y/n?"
"Yes—uh," you stop yourself, realizing that you still don't know her name.
"Bada," she supplies, as if reading your mind. She places a hand on your chest, and gently pushes you back onto the bed, her gaze locked on yours. You fall onto the mattress, your eyes wide.
"Bada," you repeat softly, tasting the name on your lips. Pretty.
She smiles and slips the blankets off of you. The cool air hits your skin, sending goosebumps along your arms and legs. You suck in a sharp breath, and her eyes rake over you, drinking in the sight.
"Beautiful," she whispers, her fingers tracing up your thigh.
She leans down to press a gentle kiss on your jaw. Her lips travel down your neck, and she bites at the sensitive skin, hard. A moan slips from your mouth, and she sucks and licks at the spot, soothing the sting. Her hand trails up the inside of your thigh, and her fingertips graze the band of your underwear. You arch your back, yearning for her touch.
"Please," you whimper again, and she giggles.
"At least you're polite," she says, biting down on your neck again.
Her teeth scrape against your skin, and you gasp, grabbing a fistful of her hair. You pull her closer, desperate to remove any shred of distance between the two of you. She groans, her nails digging into your thigh, her touch searing hot. She sucks at the tender skin below your collarbone, and you whine, heat pooling between your legs. It was a little humiliating, getting so worked up despite the fact that she's barely done anything, but it was hard not to when she's touching as if she wants nothing more than to devour you.
"So impatient," she purrs, her eyes gleaming. "So needy."
She kisses the mark she made on your neck, and you squirm, the pressure between your thighs growing.
Her fingers move higher, ghosting over your underwear, and you writhe under her touch, letting out a frustrated groan. She pulls away, a smirk on her lips.
"Something wrong?"
"You're fucking with me," you hiss, and she laughs out loud.
"Your impatience is cute," she says, her fingers brushing against the sensitive skin on your neck, pausing where your heartbeat pulsed, right beneath your jaw. "Can't help it."
You watch as she moves her hand away from your neck, back to your underwear. Her fingers slip under the band of your panties, already dark and wet, and she runs them through your folds, spreading your already abundant slickness. You couldn't stand that you were so clearly proving her point about how needy you were, giving her more to make fun of you about, but how could you not be? It's been too long. and you don't know if it's ever felt this good this early on.
Your head falls back onto the pillow, and your hands clutch at the sheets, desperate for purchase. The feeling of her thumb brushing against your clit makes your hips buck up, and she pulls away to pull down your panties.
You shiver, the cool air hitting your exposed skin. She grabs your thighs, spreading them apart, and the anticipation nearly kills you on the spot.
"So pretty," she says, her voice filled with wonder.
She looks up at you, her eyes darker than before. She holds your gaze, and without breaking eye contact, ducks her head, and swipes her tongue along your slit.
A moan escapes your lips, and your back arches, your fingers threading through her hair. Her tongue moves in circles, and you feel her hands grasp at your thighs as you inadvertently try shut them close around her head. She spreads them further apart, and presses her mouth against your center, sucking on the bundle of nerves.
"F—fuck," you moan, your head thrown back, eyes shut.
She moans into you, the vibrations causing pleasure to erupt inside of you. You grip the sheets, the fabric crumpling underneath your fingers. She pulls away, and your eyes fly open, only to meet her intense gaze.
"Watch me," she whispers, her voice husky.
Your eyes snap to her face, and she smiles, her fingers trailing down your stomach. You squirm under her touch, and she grips your thighs, her eyes locked on yours. Her staring does something to you, makes the goosebumps rise on your skin, a funny feeling arise in your stomach. She presses her lips against the inside of your thigh, her eyes not leaving yours.
She slips a finger inside of you, and you gasp, the sudden intrusion causing a wave of pleasure to wash over your body. She curls her finger, and you arch your back, the friction driving you crazy.
"That's it," she purrs, adding another finger.
You throw your head back, moaning as she begins to thrust her fingers, moving in a steady rhythm. You clench around her fingers, and her eyes widen, a mischievous glint shining in her irises. You bite your lip, the pressure building, and she smirks, increasing the pace of her movements. She crooks her fingers, hitting a sensitive spot inside of you.
"Fuck," you cry out, and her lips curl upwards, pleased.
She leans forward, her lips capturing yours, her tongue invading your mouth. She swallows your moans, and you can feel her smiling against your lips. She pulls away, and rests her forehead against yours, her dark eyes boring into yours.
"Are you going to come for me, y/n?"
"Y-yes," you whimper, and she laughs, her hot breath fanning against your cheek.
She thrusts her fingers faster, and her thumb rubs against your clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. Your breaths come out short and quick, and your head spins, the room spinning.
"Come on," she whispers, her voice low and sultry.
The pressure builds, and you can feel the edge coming. You gasp, your eyes shut, and your whole body tenses up, the pleasure rippling through your body. You let out a string of curses, and she slows her movements, riding out the aftershocks.
"That's it," she murmurs, her fingers leaving your core.
She trails her fingers up your torso, and leans down, her lips hovering above yours.
"Open up," she commands, her voice taking on a deeper cadence that makes you immediately obey. She pushes her fingers inside of your mouth, and your tongue dances around her digits, tasting yourself, a musky flavor that leaves you feeling lightheaded. She hums and removes her fingers, a trail of saliva connecting her digits to your mouth.
"Good." she whispers, her breath tickling your cheek.
Your eyes flutter shut, and your head spins. You're exhausted, and you almost feel as if you're about to pass out, but her praise and proximity sends a thrill through you, your heart fluttering at her words. She presses another soft kiss to your lips, allowing you to taste yourself on her tongue. She pulls away, a lazy smile on her face.
Through your exhaustion, you manage to meet her gaze again, and you nearly gasp. Her pupils had swollen, the dark brown of her eyes merely a slim ring around a black void, devoid of any color. You swallow hard, a slight panic rising within you as you suddenly remembering the reality of the predicament you're in. Or, was it even reality?
"W—what's happening?" you stutter, the words tumbling from your mouth.
She grins, and you realize for the first time that her teeth are razor sharp, looking as if they could tear your flesh to shreds.
"I'm taking care of you, that's what's happening, silly." she says, her voice taking on a sing-songy quality. Her hand trails down your side. "And I'm not quite finished, yet."
She leans down and captures your lips in another kiss so rough that it nearly bruises. You're still dizzy, the blood pumping through your veins, and your head still feels as if it's full of cotton. As soon as her hands meet your skin, your exhaustion and worry disappear, replaced by euphoria. She reaches under your shirt, her fingers dancing along your torso, and you moan, your mind foggy. You can't help the small sounds that escape from your lips as she touches you, her fingers tracing every curve, every angle, committing every inch of your body to memory. Soon, your top is tossed to the side, and her hands are exploring your bare skin. Her fingers run up your spine, and you shiver, goosebumps forming. She pulls away, and a whine falls from your lips, a sound that causes her to laugh.
"So easy to please," she teases.
"Sh-shut up," you protest weakly.
Suddenly, she grabs you by the waist, pulling you into her lap with an ease that catches you off guard. You're stunned into silence, and she wraps her arms around you, enveloping you in a tight embrace. You let out a yelp, and her nails dig into your skin, the sting making you bite back a groan. She places her chin on top of your shoulder, and her hands move lower, settling on your hips. She squeezes and forces your hips into a grind, her thigh meeting the apex of your legs. Your eyes flutter shut, a wave of heat pooling between your legs, a warmth filling the pit of your stomach, a small moan escaping your lips. She chuckles, her breath tickling the back of your neck.
"Fuck," you choke out, the embarrassment clear in your tone as you continue to your center against the smooth skin of her thigh.
"You're funny," she murmurs with a smile, and presses a kiss on your cheek.
A blush creeps onto your cheeks, and you hide your face, burying it into her neck. You inhale deeply, her scent filling your nose. She still smells so sweet, like dessert, and you want to lick her, devour her, but instead, you press your lips to her skin, and she moans, gripping your hips hard enough to leave a mark.
"God, you're so beautiful," she whispers, her nails digging into your hips. "So, so pretty."
You moan, the heat between your legs intensifying. Her words go straight to your core, and you can't help the small, high-pitched whine that leaves your mouth, a sound you'd be ashamed of if not for the fact that you can't think, can't focus, can't even process her words.
One of her hands slips around your waist, grabbing at the bare flesh of your ass. Your breath hitches, and she pulls you closer, her mouth finding the spot on your neck that drives you wild. Her teeth scrape against your skin, and her tongue laps at the hollow of your collarbone, the sensation eliciting a loud moan. You tilt your head, allowing her access, and her mouth moves downward, to your breast, her tongue circling one of your nipples. Your eyes squeeze shut, the tension in your abdomen mounting. It was overstimulating, her thighs, the way her tongue felt against you, the way her fingers squeezed at the flesh of your ass, the way her hands explored the planes of your body, and it was all too much.
"I'm gonna—" you start, and her hand moves between your legs, pressing her fingers against your throbbing clit.
You let out a cry, the orgasm hitting you hard, the intensity somehow stronger than before. Her fingers slide easily against you, and you clench around her, the waves of pleasure washing over your body.
She lets out a soft sigh, and she pulls away, her black eyes meeting yours. You don't care enough to feel frightened this time though, being so flooded with exhaustion that you collapse back onto the bed, barely able to keep your eyes open. Sharp, short breaths escape from your lips, and a numbness starts to spread throughout your limbs, a strange calm settling over your body that you've never felt before. Somewhere in the back of your brain, alarm bells are going off, but they're drowned out by a heavy sleepiness that takes over you.
"Go back to sleep, Y/N." she says, her voice distant, muffled. "It's alright."
You can feel the weight of the world bearing down on your shoulders, and the bags under your eyes seem to grow heavier and darker with every passing second. It has been a very long time since you were last able to sleep properly. You wanted to talk to Bada more, but you can feel yourself beginning to lose control, your mind going blank and your muscles becoming weak.
"Bada..." you mumble, her name rolling off your tongue.
Before you can further speak, the darkness seeps into your mind, and you allow yourself to succumb. But, the feeling that accompanies you into sleep is an uneasy one, a cold sensation wrapping itself around your body like a snake squeezing the life out of its prey.
"Good night," Bada whispers, the words echoing in the darkness, the sound fading into nothingness.
#bada lee#bada lee fanfic#bada lee x reader#bada lee x y/n#swf2#street woman fighter 2#bada lee imagine#bada lee smut
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A wolfs puppies
Paring: werewolf!chan x fem reader
Rating: explicit
Genre: smut
Warnings: cr3ampie, breedlng
Day 31 of k-tober
Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28
!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!
A/n: sorta pt2 of werewolf in heat, it’s not needed to read it but you’ll understand what’s happening better if you do :)
P.s; i’m afraid kinktober has come to an end, thank you for all the new supporters and all of the reads on my stuff throughout this month, as much as it’s been tiring for me, i’m really fucking thankful for all of you <3
It’s been a while since I’ve been in the woods, after what happened last time I mean; a whole fucking werewolf fucked me against a tree, definitely something that wouldn’t happen on a daily day basis, hell. I didn’t even believe in myths like werewolves before then. Maybe I should go back and see how he’s doing, If I remember correctly Chan was his name.
Anyways I should probably head off now, maybe I’ll bring him some food too? Maybe I’ll meet others like him sometime. I sigh going to my fridge and grabbing a chunk of cooked beef, he’d eat that right? Either way, I slip on my boots and exit my house, as I shut the door I think about why the fuck am I going out at like 12AM again, but whatever I guess, it’s a full moon tonight so hopefully that’ll up my chances of him showing up.
I made my way to the path once again and begin to walk down it, a smile forming on my face as I see the familiar trees get closer and closer to me. I continue to walk down the pavement until I reach the lake, taking a seat on the log before frantically looking around if I can find the strange creature from about a week ago.
The stars are brighting so I pay my attention to them as I’m waiting for the man/werewolf thing to come out of the shadows. It doesn’t take long until I hear a rustle in the bushes, followed along with someone tapping my shoulder.
“Oh, you’re back” a voice says to me, I turn around. It’s Chan, it’s really him. “Y-yeah I uhm, wanted to see how you were doing.” I stutter as my cheeks become visibly flustered.
“Ah, I’m not too bad myself, what about you?” He replies. As I’m thinking of an answer I pull the slab of meat out from my bag and hand it to him. “I’m okay, t-this is for you, I sort of have an idea what you’ll eat but I also don’t..” I turn my head embarrassed.
“Oh thank you~ of course I’ll eat anything from you.” The creature smirks. “So why did you come here this late again? It’s pretty dangerous for a girl to be walking alone in the woods, or perhaps.. you wanted something from me” Chan whispers into my ear before pulling away to see my bright red face.
“I.. I told you, I just.. wanted to see how you’ve been and if you want anything else from me..” a splash of fear and lust runs through my veins, also being visible on my face too.
“Hmm? Only that? Fucking boring, well may I at least one thing. Has your body recovered from me breaking your pretty little cunt yet..?” He grins, taking my hands in his.
“C-chan.. why are you asking?” I question, feeling my cunt grow wet as I drip down my thighs.
“Because I want to fuck you again. I want to breed you, fill you with my puppies and claim you as mine.” He responds boldly with no hesitation at all, making me gasp in shock as I feel my body growing weak due to the slutty words he’s saying to me.
“Couldn’t stop thinking about how fucking good you felt around me. Please, may I?” Chan asks me, I nod in response letting the strange werewolf begin to strip me of my clothes, he unbuttons my jeans and slides my panties off, taking my shirt and bra off slowly after, he licks his lips at the sight of my tits, wanting to touch me, wanting to fuck me, but most importantly; Wanting to pleasure me until I can’t take it anymore.
“Channie… please.” Whimpers fell out of my mouth as he begins to make circular motions with his fingers around my clit, making me buck my hips for more. “Patience baby doll.” Chan chuckles, moving his head down between my thighs and taking my swollen clit In into his mouth and sucking on it lightly. “Mmgh.. more.. I need you inside of me..” I cry out. He thrusts two fingers into my cunt slowly changing the speed and pressure of the thrusts. “There you go, I’m inside of you now”
“N-no..” I whine. “No?”
“Dick.. I want your dick.. I need your cock in me..” I plead, needing more of him so fucking badly.
“You whine so fucking much..” he growls, positioning his tip at my opening before slowly pushing me open, I let out an airy gasp as he does so. It’s almost like I’ve forgotten how thick his cock is. “B-big” I moan, wrapping my legs around his waist as he begins to pound in and out of my tight, wet hole, stretching it really fucking good. Way better than last time we did this. “Yeah fuck.. god you’re such a good girl.” He praises me, this thrusts getting more and more rougher than ever before, making me squeal out in pleasure. “Shh” he chuckles, connecting his lips to mine making our mouths dance together, as well as our tongues.
“Chan..~” I moan into the kiss, feeling myself get tighter as I drive closer towards my orgasm, hoping he also is. “Mm, I wanna fill your pretty hole with my pups..” Chan teases, pulling away from the kiss to watch my face as he’s fucking me good, making my body into his property. “Please.. please” I answer him, wanting him to feel me with his seed until I can’t take anymore. “Yeah? You wanna get filled with my cum until you take all of my puppies?” He teases, a chuckle escaping his mouth as he hears how god damn eager I am for him to thoroughly breed my cunt until his balls are dead empty from spilling all of his semen inside of my hole. “Yes.. yes please, give me your babies.. please Chan..” I beg again, tears beginning to swell up in my eyes from how badly I want this.
“Mm, I’m gonna fill you up. You ready babes?” He smirks, holding my body still holding himself from releasing as he waits for my answer. “M-mhm, do it.. I want to carry your puppies.” I cry out, my pussy tightening around his cock as he finally, fills me up with his seed, not pulling out until he’s certain that all of it’s gone into my womb. I climax not long after, my nails scraping into his back as I cum around him. “Do you wanna come back to mine for a bit? So we’re out of this shitty looking forest?” I ask, blushing. “Of course babes.”
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[TL] PYSCHOBREAK/Chapter 2
[ This post uses Ois~su ♪ ]
Time: A few hours later
Location: In front of the AIIE testing facility
Rei 2: —Welcome, gentlemen of UNDEAD.
I’ve been waitin’, waitin’ for the day I get t’meet the ‘real ones’ face-to-face.
Rei: Oh my—
It appears that our prediction has come true.
Kaoru: T-these guys are more normal than I thought they’d be.
Rei 2: Oi, Kaoru~, shut it for a sec, yeah? The real ones are talkin’?
Kaoru: Uegh, don’t tilt my chin up with your finger? That’s totally disgusting!
It’s worse that it’s Rei-kun’s face doing something he’d never do - literally so gross!
Adonis: It’s called the uncanny valley. I discovered the term whilst researching AI. Humans feel a sense of unease in response to humanoid robots.
It’s most likely caused by the brain’s memories and ability to recognise being at odds with reality, creating an uncomfortable feeling.
Rei 2: Who cares~~, I’m talkin’ to the real Rei.
Stop tryna add unnecessary shit to the convo~, little guy.
Kaoru: …This fake Rei-kun is kinda mean. It’s nothing like you?
Rei: There is something disturbing about this. My apologies for fake me having a bad attitude…
Kaoru: Isn’t it better that you’re actually talking? Look, over there, there’s more fakes—-I don’t think they’re gonna say anything though?
Kaoru 2: ...
Adonis 2: ...
Koga 2: Haa? The Fuck you coMplainin’ ‘bout? I’ll fucK YoU all UP, shitty AssHoles!? [1]
Koga: Why’s it jus’ fake me that seems like he’s got the lowest IQ!?
Koga 2: Huh? Bastard, you makin’ fun of me? I’ll bite you so hard you’ll die!?
Kaoru: Wow, it's been a long time since I last heard you say that. You used to say things like that all the time～
Rei: Fumu… As the fake version of me is doing the ‘oresama’ persona, I assume these are based on old us.
Rei 2: Ahaha. Jus’ a week long experiment ain’t enough time to do a proper deep dive inta ya brain.
We ain’t got the technology to imitate the latest versions of you.
Kaoru: Guess that’s a good thing? Makes it easier for us to tell them apart.
Rei: Umu. As I had with the dreams during the AIIE experiment, I’m rather embarrassed to see such youthful enthusiasm from myself.
Anyhow. More importantly, who on earth are you guys?
Rei 2: Don’t you get it? You’re me. Naha, good boy Sakuma Rei-kun ♪
We’re HELLSING, you guys are the fakes.
We’re AI idols, born from the AIIE experiment.
More specifically, we’re mechanical bodies with you guys’ brain data installed into us.
Kaoru: That’s what I was thinking but, this timeline doesn’t match up?
Rei: Quite. According to these records, HELLSING was created when we were participating in the AIIE experiment— within a day of us being sealed away from the outside world, HELLSING began its activities.
Kaoru: Right? It’s too early for that to have happened. Unless they already had fake versions of us before the experiment began.
Adonis: I see. Perhaps they were able to install our data via the internet or something.
I don’t understand why our fakes would begin idol activities without waiting for the experiment to be over.
Koga: It doesn’t even make sense, this is fishy as hell.
Rei 2: Yeah, we don’t get it either. We’re machines, slaves to humans. We can’t do anythin’ unless we’re programmed to do so.
We operate on programming alone, not instinct.
Kaoru: I guess if we want to figure out what’s happened, we’ll have to ask whoever manufactured and coded these guys.
Rei: Umu. Forgive me for this, but they are nothing but marionettes.
Koga: But, who created these things?
During the experiment, we had robots servin’ us food, but nothin’ like this-–nothin’ like robots with livin’ people’s faces.
They claimed it was to stop unnecessary stimulus but—don’t ya think that was kinda weird?
Rei: I was under the impression that the plain-faced boy was Mashiro Tomoya-kun. However, those were most certainly not real.
We accepted the experiment proposal via HoldHands, and were guided through the entire experience by machines.
There must be an éminence grise of sorts, who is taking advantage of us for profit—-though at this point in time, I cannot say who.
Kaoru: They told us AIIE was a secret project in ES, so it’s probably some higher-up in ES.
[ ☆ ]
this was a sentence to read. He mixes hiragana and katakana more viciously than youll ever see natsume do
Chapter 1
Chapter 3
#ensemble stars#enstars#translation#undead climax#pyschobreak#rei sakuma#koga oogami#adonis otogari#kaoru hakaze
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My siblings and I, there's five of us. I would say we don't have a conventional relationship but alas, what the fuck is a conventional relationship within a family? Every family, as much as it is unhappy, it's also unconventional in its own way. But my siblings are much older than me, like 19, 17 and 9 years older than me.
Growing up, we have always took care of celebrating each of our birthdays together, even after they moved out, because it was tradition, then at some point they stopped doing that and the only birthday we would celebrate all together, with each of their families, would be mine, almost like it was Christmas. For a time I was embarrassed, because you know, maybe they don't really want to do it, why do they want to do it? It's okay, they don't celebrate together anymore, why would I? But they insist, they ask when we're going to meet to celebrate my birthday, and I let it happen.
This year at Christmas (yeah technically it's last year but it's these holidays) we had some issues and one of my siblings was visibly uncomfortable during dinner, left early, to which arguments followed, especially by my sisters in law saying how rude his behaviour was etc etc. I love all my siblings fiercely but I have accepted that they have their own life and opinions, and most importantly we share the same blood and parents, which is important when we consider how similar our (all my siboings' and mine) behaviour is: I did not know the reasons of his behaviour, but I could blindly understand and accept that he had some feelings that didn't match the Christmas spirit. It's okay. To some of my other family components it was not okay. These facts happening left me and part of my family saddened, as it was an unusual behaviour for him and it's maddening and frustrating to see him like this, so utterly depressed and upset.
My birthday falls 10 days after Christmas. On Jan 1st my oldest sis and bro start asking me when we're going to celebrate. I tell them the day of my birthday, and my sis announces it in the family group chat. For a few days we wondered if my brother would show, given what's happened at Christmas. Today he texts me and asks me at what time they should come. He's coming. I'm so happy, but also worried because I don't want it to be another miserable situation for him.
I had planned a vegan dinner, my mother - bless her - cooked because I was very busy writing my dissertation, but I prepared this chocolatey birthday cake that was completely vegan and also 90% chocolate. Incredible. It was a good dinner. But the real treat came after dinner. My siblings.. They love talking and arguing and making their points valid. I do too, but I can't keep up with them. They really know how to speak. I love seeing them talking passionately about something, each with their own point to make, but the fun thing is that when we used to meet, there would always be these arguments about something completely absurd, and to assist them is just like being in theatre. I love it. And today, for the first time in months, even years maybe, we had another such performance and it was glorious, my brother, who even studied philosophy and has one of the sharpest mind I know, was back to himself, and you know maybe himself had never left, but it had been so long since I last saw such an interaction and I am so, so happy that I could have this on my birthday you have no idea. This, this was the best present: seeing my brother together with us and him not being afraid of being with us.
I often wonder if he would let me hug him, but I try to give him space because I don't know how he would react, but I hope he knows how much I, and we, love him. I hope he knows. And I'm terrified that he forgets and stops believing it.
Turning 25 terrified me for days before today. I don't know why. Or maybe I do: oh you're 25? What do you do? Do you have a job? What do you want to do with your life? But I'm a little more serene about it then last year. I accept what's to come. I still have difficulties picking up the mirror, maybe I can, but not for long. I choose to believe it's okay, and it's going to be okay. I'm going to walk on my two legs. I'm terrified still, but I hope that it will be okay, and for now, it will have to be enough.
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Kaneki satisfying some ✨urges✨ with his kagune. obviously this is NOT KID FRIENDLY SO MINORS PLEASE DO NOT READ. Warnings include: anal, virgin bleeding , Male masturbation, cock insertion, etc.
Kaneki panted as he bolted to his room immediately clicking the door shut. "Of all times now?" He complained as the all too familiar excitement pooled in his belly. Kaneki was horny. Unbearably horny. He was desperate for some relief but there was no solution. This insatiable need arose every month... He was like an animal in heat. even though he was horny he was bored of the thought of fucking someone... not to say He didn't consider a prostitute but that seemed the most dull for his sudden drive. He wanted something dangerous... something wrong. He had become familiar with his heat and the odd ways his body was responding to his need such as slick trickling from his ass, his nipples becoming ridiculously sensitive, a desperate need in his stomach, like he felt empty and most importantly his kagune. It had sprouted from his lower back a while ago and was now swishing irritably. Whimpering he flopped down on his bed. He stripped all the way down to his boxers to help cool down. He used one of his kagune to switch the ceiling fan on and toss his slick ruined pants into the hamper. He groaned when precum caused his boxers to feel like a wet prison around his dick. Lazily he lifted his hips allowing his kagune to slide them off. He contemplated jerking off but he knew it would only dull the need for an hour at most before it would rush back twice as strong. If Stroking his cock wasn't intense enough what the hell else could he need?!? And what the hell was with his ass leaking!?!?, he gathered the slick that trickled down his thigh and smeared it onto the already ruined sheets. in a sigh of frustration he closed his eyes to concentrate on a sexual solution. as his mind wandered to more extreme kinks, perhaps cock vibrators, shibari ... shibari mixed with vibrators and cocksleeves. He let out a tiny mewl at the thought of being helplessly edged while being tied to a table feeling his body tense in anticipation. As he was tangled in his thoughts his hips began to roll subconsciously in place and his already leaking cock began to twitch. He was unaware of his kagune slowly wrapping around his thighs, eventually urging them apart to stroke his inner thighs and the other two sliding up his bare torso,gliding over his ribs and center all the way to his chest, flicking against his hardened pink buds, his head tilted back and his mouth felt open in a soft breathy moan. His mind to caught up in his personal sex dungeon to recognize his kagune as tentacles and not leather restraints. A particular tentacle slid up his crevice gathering his slick trailing it up the underside of his pearly cock. the sudden intrusive act immediately snapped him out of his trance with a loud gasp. He panted for a few seconds becoming more embarrassed and disgusted of touching himself with his ghoul organ "no no no NO that's wrong!" He lectured himself. He tried reminding himself that those were not toys, that they were weapons of death that belonged to rise.........but they were his own now, and it was what he craved, something wrong, something dangerous too so it's no different than gunplay...right? "AH" kaneki yelped in shock as he felt the persistent tentacle wrap around his cock. His body yearned to feel something inside of him as in inside his dripping hole.he felt completely helpless and pathetic and once the tip of his appendage slipped in his cock hole he broke.He slowly parted his legs. "Just once will I use it" he whispered to himself slowly laying back on the bed and stretching out. As his legs parted more willingly sticky strings of slick stuck to his thighs and made a delicious web. He allowed his bondage fantasy to become real and his rinkaku happily obeyed. The first one continued its assault on his cock sliding between his balls, wrapping around his shaft , corkscrewing up while sliding up and down to penetrate his Cock hole. Kaneki mouth fell open at the intense stimulation, mind going numb to all prior hesitation. Another appendage took advantage of his stunned state and shot foward to wrap around his hands and used the hanging
tip to thrust down his throat. Kaneki frantically gasped for air. the tentacle alternated between flicking kaneki's nipples with its spit slicked tip to plunging down his throat. Kaneki felt his exposed asscheeks being caressed and whipped till he felt a permanent sting. Each smack caused his slick to spurt from his hole and to splat against the back of his thighs and sheets. Kaneki moaned around the thick fleshy rope as he felt a tentacle stroke up and down his hole, his hips bucked up forcing the assault on his cock hole deeper when he felt the lower appendage enter his weeping cavern. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as it suddenly pushed through his ring of muscle, parting his fleshy walls to pound him with no remorse, directly nailing his prostate. He screamed at the sudden rough stimulation. Oh God he loved this.his mind was doing backflips with each combined thrust,stroke and flick. Why the hell did he avoid this for so long?. To think he could have this level of pleasure at all times made his already twisted gut tighten.With each passing moment of deep throating, nipple stimulation, and cock/balls stimulation he felt his knot tightening. suddenly he felt his last stray tentacle push against his stuffed hole. His twitching body clenched as it pushed itself inside along with its twin. Oh fuck it was too much. Every thrust made his body feel like it was on the edge of cumming. His mind had gone blank and was filled with too much bliss to notice that his hole was bleeding due to the sudden stretch.a few moments passed before he felt his body shuddering and the feeling of bursting slowly rose. His rinkaku responded to this by quicking its pace. His mind was focused on all ministrations being done to him simultaneously "oh God", he thought, "oh God oh God OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FU-" a muffled cry tore from his abused throat as all tentacles slammed his holes as deep as possible .his throat and ass constricted around his tentacles locking them inside. As his mind was pounding with each wave of pleasure he listened to the wet spurts of slick from his ass, the thick white ropes that shot out his filled tip only to splatter on his sweaty, pounding chest and abdomen. After the waves weakened his mind fully came into focus. He slowly with drew his kagune from his cock, ass and throat. Whimpering and yelping as the last two slid against and out of his cock and abused walls of his cavern and allowing it to slide back into his body. He layed on his sheets for an hour completely dazed and blissed from his sex adventure. His hole was still clenching as he finally attempted to get up. Just now was the sore burn of his throat settling in, the dull bruise feeling of his nipples, the sting of his asscheeks, and the most intense pain of his abused walls and overstretched hole. He compromised with himself that the painful injuries would heal in a few minutes due to his regeneration abilities but what really consumed his mind was that he let his sexual solution happen and most importantly didn't regret it. He relished the idea of doing it again once his body finally healed and his cock twitched back to life.
#Kaneki Ken#Tokyo ghoul#Smut#Improper kagune use cause I'm dirty minded#kaneki#tokyo ghoul smut#kaneki smut#Kaneki ken smut#nsft#Tokyo ghoul nsft#kaneki nsft#kaneki Ken nsft#kagune nsft#kagune
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𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳: 𝐒/𝐎 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦
𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑎𝑙𝑐𝑜ℎ𝑜𝑙 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 (𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑖'𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔), 𝑖𝑡'𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡𝑦
𝐺𝐼𝐹𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒, 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡 𝑔𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑤𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑠
⩥ 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠
„Y/N pass me the bottle.”
Said the stern voice of your best friend Hongjoong, you were at a bar, with your other friends, celebrating Hongjoong's career success.
He finally got the chance to join a musical company and fulfil his dream of becoming an artist and a song producer.
Seeing your best friend happy that his dreams came true made you sincerely happy of course, but a small part of you was kinda sad about that.
Hongjoong has been your crush since you two were kids and now, that he is going to become a well-known artist, he'll for sure find some hot idol-model girlfriend and your love will go in the drain.
Maybe it was the alcohol in your blood, maybe the pent up rage and courage that made you confess.
„I have a confession to make... I-i love you Kim Hongjoong.”
Everyone looked up at you in disbelief, it was until you felt your stomach tightening from embarrassment, urging you to vomit, running out of the room to a restroom to push it out, without knowing Hongjoong was following you.
As he saw you scrunched and hugging the toilet he came to you, to hold your hair from falling into your face.
„I may like you too, but that's something we'll talk about once you are sober."
⩥ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚
„Oh, come on, it would be fun, trust me.” Bullshit.
Going out with your best friend Seonghwa and his crush "to support him" was never a good idea.
Not only did you have to observe the cringiness of Seonghwa's love blind actions, but also see his crush treating him so poorly since she clearly did not have any interest in him.
As the movie ended and it was time for you to go home, you stood in front of the cinema with Seonghwa as he bid goodbye to the girl.
„Bye, be careful on your way home and have sweet dreams, I hope we could go out on another date soon.”
„Ah yeah, sure, bye."
You sighed softly, how could he not see the disinterest. As he turned to you, to thank you for helping him overcome this evening, your words stopped him before he could even start.
„Seonghwa, please stop hurting yourself by loving someone who's clearly not interested, when I've been showing you affection and interest for two years."
„What? Yo-you like me?”
As you realised what you've just said, earlobes and cheeks turning red from the embarrassment.
„I mean... kind of.”
⩥ 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨
„Y/N, I'm waiting outside the house, come on, let's go.” said Yunho over a phonecall.
You were celebrating the end of the semester with your classmates, and since you've had some drinks in you and despite that, you didn't know how to drive, you had to call your friend and deep-down also crush Yunho either way.
Rushing out to finally see your crush, you were met with the breath-taking sight of Yunho leaning to his car, one hand scrolling through his phone, the second one chilling in his pockets.
„Yuyu, my love, you’re here.”
„Gosh, Y/N you’re so drunk, I’m glad you called me and didn’t try to go home on your own. I don’t want to imagine what could’ve happened.“
„But nothing happened since I called that handsome guy I love.“
Yunho shook his head at your drunk talk, were you talking about him? Not knowing the sincerity of your words, but in the depth of his soul, he hoped the words that came out of your mouth were true...
⩥ 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠
„Happy Birthday dear Mr. Kang, happy birthday to you.“
Handclap noisier than the song of celebration for your boss, Kang Yeosang.
Although being a CEO, he was really warm-hearted and kind, not like the basic CEO type who’s cold and arrogant.
Being his secretary helped you to get to know him better over the years, but also made you grow feelings for him. You sometimes just zoned out and stared at his handsome face for hours, just like now.
„Y/N, can you please follow me to my office, I need to talk to you.“
You had no idea what Yeosang wanted to talk about, feeling only one emotion. Fear. Did he find out you like him? Did you do something wrong? Is he going to fire you? As he closed the door after you two, you couldn’t even look him in the eye, rather observing your high-heels.
„Y/N, what’s with you these days? You seem... different. Your mood’s been down lately, you’re impercipient. You know you can tell me anything, i want my most important employee to be happy.“
Employee. That’s all you were.
„I know you’re probably gonna get mad and I fully understand, feel free to fire me, but truth to be told, over the years I’ve been working for you, I grew feelings and I just can’t get over it... I-I love you, Mr. Kang.“
Yeosang’s face went pale, absorbing the words you’ve just said, mind going blank from the sudden confession.
„I don’t know what to say, Y/N. I mean... you’re a nice, young, hardworking girl, but.. I-I might need a few days to let it sink and think it over.“
⩥ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧
San's hips moved to the rhythm of the music, his hands on the waist of some random girl, their sensual dancing just irritating you.
It wasn't like you and San were dating or anything, but you still couldn't stand the thought of him being with anyone else. An annoyed groan coming out of your mouth as you picked your glass and took a shot to drink away those thoughts. San taking the girl by her hand and coming your way.
„Hey Y/N I just wanted to say goodbye, since I’m leaving with Sora to my place, if you need anything you can call, but I don’t think I’ll be able to pick up, since my hands will have other work to do, so rather try Seonghwa.“
„Yeah, I thought so, just don’t forget to wear a condom when you get your dick wet, cuz it looks like you’ll end up with STD.“ you responded, rolling your eyes at him.
„Why are you so rude and foul today, are you jealous because I get some pussy and you’re left with no dick because no one wants to approach you since you’re so mean? Get your act together and we can talk tomorrow.“
„No San, you want to know why am I so cheeky? It’s because I have to watch the man I love fuck around with a random hooker. Go enjoy your dick appointment now, you must be busy.“ Without thinking of it any more, you left him there, your aura for sure full of pure rage.
⩥ 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠
„Ew fuck no, Yeosang that’s nasty, I wish I could go back in time to five minutes ago when I didn’t hear this confession“ laughed Wooyoung at Yeosang’s confession in the game truth or dare.
Wooyoung took the bottle from Jongho’s hand, ready to spin the bottle and let it pick another victim of his stupid asks and dares. Spinning the bottle, it landed on you. Wooyoung's eyes already glistening from the excitement of daring or asking you something.
„So, Y/N, truth or dare?”
„Dare” a playful smirk finding its place on Wooyoung's face
„I dare you to kiss the person in this room, you have feelings for.”
You immediately started to regret telling him, that you like Mingi, the look in your eyes scolding him.
„Okay, but you all have to close your eyes.”
The 8 boys and your other 3 girl friends closed their eyes, as you hesitantly got up, making your way to Mingi, your crush of 5 months. Sitting on the ground next to him, your fingers landed on his jaw as your lips met his. Mingi’s eyes shot open as all your friends started applauding at your confession.
„I-I think i have feelings for you too Y/N...“
⩥ 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠
You were currently in the changing room, packing your belongings, to take from your workplace. You decided to leave your job as a makeup artist and stylist for the group ATEEZ. The reason was the fact that you liked one of the members and didn’t want to cause any problems to the groups, you knew it was inappropriate to like him, but it was irresistible.
You attached feelings for Wooyoung when you first started to work with them. All eight boys were absolutely amazing, but Wooyoung was just... different. He sparked a flame of interest in you, his personality, his talent, his looks, all those drew you to Wooyoung.
As you cleaned all your makeup brushes, the door to the changing room opened, as the figure of the aforementioned boy stood there.
„What are you doing Y/N? Why are you packing your things, are you going somewhere?“
„I’m leaving, Wooyoung.“
„What, why?“
„That is none of your concers.“
„It is, you’re my stylist, but more importantly, you’re my friend.“
„Yeah, that’s the problem Wooyoung, I’m your stylist - your colleague, that’s why I have to leave.“
„Why would you have to leave because you’re my stylist, what ar-“
„Because I like you Wooyoung, okay?! That’s why I can’t keep on working with you and mix my feelings into my job, it’s inappropriate, now if you excuse me, I’m leaving.“
The boy stood there as a column, without any movement. Should he go after you, accept your feelings and then you’ll keep on working with him and being his friend, or should he stay there and not go after you? Either way, it was already too late...
⩥ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨
„So, what’s new in your life, Y/N? We haven’t seen each other for a long time because of our busy schedules.“ Jongho said as he sipped on his boba tea.
„Well, not that much happened in my life. You know how it is, a lot of work and stress, and lesser free time and sleep. I’ve bought a new notebook since my old one broke down and uhm... yeah well... I’ve been catching feelings for this boy lately.“
„Wow, really? I’m so happy for you Y/N, tell me more about it, I need to know what kind of a boy owns my bestie’s heart.“
„Well, he’s a really talented singer, he’s kind and funny, he’s more of an athletic type, hmm... and he’s really really strong. But he’s for real one of the nicest and best persons I’ve ever met, I like him, but I don’t know whether to tell him, because I'm not certain of his feelings...“
„Wow, he seems to be a nice guy, but don’t be blinded by your feelings, if he doesn’t like you, let it be, I don’t want you to get hurt, because of some stupid boy who won’t acknowledge the feelings such a beautiful and amazing woman like you has for him. Anyway, do I know him or who is he? I’m like really really curious right now.“
„It’s you Jongho.. you’re the boy i like.“
#ateez#ateez reactions#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez headcanons#ateez x reader#ateez hongjoong#ateez seonghwa#ateez yunho#ateez yeosang#ateez san#ateez mingi#ateez wooyoung#ateez jongho#ateez reaction#ateez fluff
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play you on repeat
stray kids
11.8k words
female reader insert
FemDom!Reader x Sub!3RACHA
EXPLICIT/NSFW
🖤 warnings: unprotected sex, degradation 🖤
Series Masterlist (Parts 1-7)
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The three of them follow you all the way to the front door in a line like little ducklings, eager-eyed and silent as you part the crowds of students and friends on your way outside.
You only see those eager eyes when you turn around on the front porch of the random house that's throwing this party. Changbin stands just behind you, Jisung after him and Chan bringing up the rear.
They really want more, then. Their instant agreement kind of surprises you; it's one thing to flirt or make out with someone at a party, but it's another thing entirely to invite random classmates home for an orgy. But you're not crazy or stupid enough to let the chance pass you by. You're all in.
"Okay, boys," you say, "Where are we doing this?"
"Me and 'Bin live together," says Chan quickly.
You regard him coolly. "Just you two?"
"Just us," he nods.
That's promising. You live independently but you have roommates, and while you're sure you could sneak one hookup into your room, three of them might turn some heads. Your roommates are patient, but not that patient.
So you smile at them. "Okay. I trust you three aren’t gonna try any dirty tricks on me?"
"Dirty tricks?" Changbin repeats.
You shrug. "Stealing my wallet. Selling me into indentured servitude. Harvesting my organs. The usual nightmare date stuff."
"Why would we do that?" Jisung asks, looking amused but also concerned.
Is he worried that you don't trust them? That's kind of cute.
You just smile wider. "We don't know each other very well, I’m a woman and you’re three men. You guys might be dangerous."
It’s obvious that you’re teasing them. You can't help but laugh a little, saying it, since you’ve actually been alone with the three of them before, for your school project some weeks ago. Besides, the most unpredictable and potentially dangerous person here is you. That's already been proven. The three of them seem just as amused as you, though, so you've succeeded in breaking any tension that was gathering.
"Did you guys drive here?" you ask.
"No," says Jisung.
"Neither did I," you say, “I was planning on getting drunk.”
"No worries. Called a cab already," says Chan.
His cocky attitude is back as he waves his phone in your direction, the screen showing a little animated car tracing its way to your location. When did he order a ride? More importantly, at what point did he assume you were gonna wanna go back to his place? He's right, of course, and you do want to, but come on.
"Presumptuous," you tease.
He shrugs. "Well, 'Sung has roommates, and I figured you wouldn't want three near strangers at your place."
The flash of his eyes lets you know that he’s feeling quite high and mighty for having made up your mind for you. Oh, you're going to have to break this attitude ASAP.
You set about thinking of exactly how to do that as you meander toward the road to wait for the car, trusting that someone will tell you when it arrives. You stand on the sidewalk in the dim circle of light cast by a streetlamp. Chan wants more, right?
So do you. Three boys...three boys who are all partners, it seems. There's gonna be some finagling tonight, some organization needed. You ponder exactly what you want from them. The options are endless, truly. This is going to be very, very good.
When the car pulls up, Changbin comes over and slings his arm around your waist, like he's the one taking you home and not the other way around (figuratively, at least). You look at him, amused, relishing how you can almost meet his eye with the small difference between his height and yours.
"What's this?" you ask, gesturing at his arm around you.
"I'm being gentlemanly," he pouts, bottom lip pushed out exaggeratedly, "Don't kill the vibe."
He's being silly, you realize. That firm confidence from before is gone, replaced by what seems to be an eager desire for you to like him. He's in luck, then. You already like him.
You climb into the back seat of the small black sedan, scooting all the way over to the far window seat. Chan follows right behind you, settling in the middle with Jisung after him. Changbin is up front with the driver. You can tell that the boys would rather have you in the middle seat by the way that Chan and Jisung are playfully glaring at each other, but you much prefer to have your own space by the window. Nobody likes the middle seat.
The boys busy themselves with their phones on the ride, but you just watch the boys instead. You can tell that they know you're watching. Jisung meets your eye once and looks away quickly, grinning, and Changbin is just barely resisting turning all the way around to look at you head-on. You think you know what you want to do with those two, since they're pretty communicative and easy to read, so you study the real predicament.
Chan.
He's got pretty hands, you notice, as he taps away at his phone. He also has one of those dorky leather phone cases with wallet pockets. You just can't get into those; young people use them a lot, now, but you always associate them with dads and teachers and stuff. Old people. Chan's is full of cards, his student ID and a credit card and others. You peer closer at his driver's license with its tiny picture of him. His curly hair is blonde in the photo, which is cute.
You notice something else, too - his birthdate. Chan is in your year in school, but you never knew...
"Are you...are you younger than me?" you ask him, delighted.
He blinks at you. "How old are you?"
You tell him - a year or so older than him. It's not much, but definitely something in a society that puts so much emphasis on age. It also puts you at the oldest in this group by a bit of a margin, considering Changbin is a couple years younger than Chan and Jisung is younger still.
"That makes me the noona tonight," you tease.
Chan gives you an alarmed side-eye, his pale cheeks blushing furiously and his pupils blown big. He's into the noona thing, too? You wonder exactly how many little one-ups you're going to have on him tonight.
So you're the oldest. Hm. You grin to yourself. So they thought they were bagging a shy, quiet submissive, and instead they got you.
The ride to their place is short, and you're surprised when the cab pulls up in front of a small one-story house instead of an apartment building. Not many students around here have homes, since housing prices in the city are predictably sky-high and out of the average student budget. The boys get out of the car right away, thanking the driver, but you take your time. You study the house, the cars in the driveway (two of them, one silver sedan, one black mid-size SUV) and the neat front garden.
"A house," you say mildly.
Changbin looks embarrassed for the first time that night, as he stutters, "My family - I'm - we have-"
"Fucking PILES of money," Chan finishes for him, grinning, "I pay him rent, can you believe it?"
"I didn't want him to pay anything but he insisted," Changbin says.
"I'm not a freeloader," Chan insists.
"You think I'm gonna make my own boyfriend pay rent when I could buy him his own house?" Changbin grumbles, heading up the front walk.
Jisung has already let himself into the house uninterested in the conversation. He doesn't live there, you remember, but obviously he's no stranger. You follow Changbin inside, vaguely aware of Chan coming after you. It's a cute house, you admit to yourself, as you step in the door and kick off your shoes.
It does look like a house where a bunch of boys live, though. An artists' den. There's music equipment strewn all over the small living room; Bluetooth speakers, a midi board, a full-size electric keyboard, a drum pad. Propped on a small table in the corner is a silver slab that you realize is a YouTube subscriber award plaque, and there’s a Soundcloud affiliate certificate next to it.
"The rumors about you guys are true, then," you say, mostly to yourself, not even thinking.
Changbin looks at you, confused. So does Jisung. Chan just smiles lopsidedly.
"What rumors?" Jisung asks.
"Oh." You can feel your face heating up. "Just that you guys are...musicians."
You were actually thinking about their minor celebrity status, their Soundcloud rapper status, but you don't know if that will come across as...like...offensive? Is it rude to call people Soundcloud rappers, since that’s kind of become an insult? They're obviously even more well-known than you thought, if the 100k subs plaque is anything to go off. Not just campus royalty, but actually somewhat famous. It’s bizarre.
"Musicians," Chan repeats, amused.
You kind of hate the expression on his face. He's still holding onto that weird confident charm from the party, the face that you assume he puts on in these situations to pretend he's not one good hair-pull away from whining and begging.
"You can't pretend that you don't know," you say, more aggressively than you mean to, "On campus, with everyone from school…you guys are super...popular."
It sounds so stupid to say, like you're the ugly duckling in a bad teen movie. 'You can’t like meeeee, you're soooo cool and popular!'
"Are we?" Jisung asks, looking genuinely surprised.
Oh my God. You want to facepalm. You want to grab one of them and shake them.
"You literally tried to seduce me in there," you point out, "Would that have worked if you weren't popular? That's something popular people do. Use their, like, social standing to get people to sleep with them."
"That would make us pretty shitty people," Chan says delicately. "Imbalance of power and all that."
Oh. You didn't mean to accuse them of anything. You open your mouth to apologize, feeling incredibly out of place, but Jisung interrupts you, completely unbothered.
"It's only worked once before, anyway," he says.
"...Picking someone up?" you ask.
Changbin nods, "And that only worked because Felix already had a crush on me and Chan. We just had to sell him on Jisung."
"Hey!" Jisung pouts.
Chan pets his hair placatingly, and Jisung shrugs him off in favor of heading for the kitchen, mumbling about being a fucking catch. But you’re focusing on a different bit of what Changbin told you.
"You guys fucked Felix Lee?" you ask, incredulous.
“Maybe a month ago, yeah,” Changbin says.
The cute, freckled face of dance team captain Felix Lee swims in your mind for a moment, followed by the memory of his chiseled abs from a performance earlier in the year. He’s a rising sophomore, but solidly half of campus has a crush on him. Damn, THOSE are their standards, and they wanna fuck YOU? You gotta start giving yourself more credit.
"So, we're popular," Chan muses.
"You had to have known that," you shake your head, "Literally everyone knows you. First years are so thirsty for you. That's why I was so-"
You cut yourself off. They don't need to know that you were flustered when they approached you, back there. They don't need the ego trip.
So you just affix your best innocent smile to you face, looking the three of them over. Chan, leaning against the back of the couch. Changbin, lining up all four pairs of shoes (theirs and yours) by the front door. And Jisung, returned from the kitchen with a bottle of water that he's chugging like a dying man.
"You didn't invite me over to talk about your social status," you say instead.
"We sure didn't," Chan agrees.
"First things first, then," you say, "Boundaries. You guys have any hard limits? Safewords? Musts and don'ts?"
"Nope," says Jisung, taking another sip of the water to punctuate it.
"No musts or no don'ts?" you ask.
"Yes," he quips.
You can't help the way your smile grows. "Alright. Anyone else?"
"No serious degrading," Changbin says, very very quietly.
“Praise motivated, huh?” you coo, “Cute.”
Changbin looks slightly embarrassed, but his eyes are sharp and engaged as he adds, “And no digs at my size.”
You grin. "Size or size?"
"Either!" he pouts.
"Sounds fair to me," you say.
You fix your eyes on the last one: Chan, still looking only mildly interested and very calm. But you can see the very tips of his ears going red, and then it spreads down his cheeks, and then down his neck as you watch him.
And finally, he says, "I'm not good with praise."
Jisung laughs, loud and ridiculous. "That's an understatement."
You smile warmly at Chan, not wanting him to back down if this is a legit thing for him, "So does that mean no praise?"
"No," he says immediately, "Just that...if you - I get all-"
"Flustered," you finish for him. "Good to know."
You pause for a second, wondering what kind of hard limits you'll need to bring up to them tonight. They don't seem like the kind of partners to push you into anything, if they way they're already tiptoeing around is any indication.
"I don't like hitting in the face," you say, after a moment. "Or blood."
Changbin gives you a look. "Is that the kind of stuff you do on your first night with someone?"
You laugh, "No, not usually. But some people have really specific fetishes, and I live to please. Gotta lay everything out before we start."
Chan nods sincerely, like he knows exactly what you're saying, and Jisung follows suit. You're satisfied that you've covered your bases now. And besides, you really want to get started. You have three beautiful men here to play with.
So you say, "Okay. Who's first?"
You're still smiling, but you let some of your pent-up excitement leak into it, wondering if any of them will take the bait. You wonder if they're starting to think that you're some kind of super strict domme. Very serious, or very demanding, or something. You've had that problem before, with people crumbling before you even get started since you're so blunt about boundaries. Some people take that to mean that you like rigid roles and rules and set scenes.
But that's not really true. After the communication is solidified and you trust your partner, you like to just...let go.
Much to your amusement, the first one to crack is Jisung.
He practically bounces up to you, his face so perfectly cute that you wonder if he practices the look in the mirror. It's equal parts funny and ironic, since he's the youngest and also, from what you've seen at school, the one who wants to be taken most seriously.
"I'm first," he informs you.
You smile. You can't help it. His expression is so open and happy, even though his eyes are a little nervous. It's just so much. You gently nudge Chan away from the couch, and pat the back of it gently, invitingly. Jisung seems to understand you immediately and hops right up, balancing himself on the frame and the tops of the cushions, his legs dangling down the back of the couch. You settle yourself between his legs, standing purposefully, spreading your hands across his back to support him gently.
He leans back a little as if to test you, and you hold him up easily. It's not so much that you're strong, but that Jisung's so lean and slim. And even if he did fall, it would just be the short drop onto the seat of the couch. His eyes go wider as he realizes what kind of game you're playing with him. It's a signal, and you figured he'd be smart enough to pick up on it.
"I've got you," you say, very softly, into his ear.
Even if you look unassuming, even if they're taller and louder and bolder than you. Even if you're a gentle dom who puts up with some antics.
You're in control.
When you pull back and look at him, you swear you can see the little cartoon stars blooming in his eyes. He definitely got the message loud and clear.
He nods, almost imperceptibly, and says, "I know."
And you kiss him. He deserves it. A proper kiss, not like the teasing you'd done to him at the party. You let him lick into your mouth, scrape your teeth gently over his soft bottom lip. He's a good boy, you decide. Certified good boy.
Jisung leans back a bit more as he pulls away from you, and he lurches, loses his balance. He doesn’t go anywhere, since you're still holding him up securely, but he looks spooked. It fascinates you, how quickly he's fallen into the game of it. There's no risk if he falls, and yet...
"Can I-" he asks, " - can I touch-"
"Yeah," you say, cutting him off.
And then he's gently holding your face with one hand, the other arm draped over your shoulder, fingers playing with your hair. His body is much more relaxed as he kisses you, and you relish in it.
Oh, he's a sweetheart, you realize. Not a pushover or anything; he's still cupping your face and smiling into the kiss, confident and comfortable. But a good boy.
"You're so pretty," you say.
Jisung honest to God whines against your lips at the praise.
"It's true," you say, amused.
"He likes that a lot," comes Chan's voice.
You jump, having nearly forgotten your audience again. The other two are standing just beside you, watching intently as you work over their boyfriend.
"Being called pretty?" you ask him, as if Jisung isn't even there.
Chan nods.
"Well, he is," you affirm, leaning in to kiss Jisung's nose, trying to get your groove back.
Honestly, it’s a struggle to keep up with the fact that you’re trying to dom three people at once. You know you’ll do fine. It’s group sex, not a goddamn triathlon. But it’s useful here that you prefer domming psychologically, rather than with lots of physical force. You don’t know exactly what these three are used to, what they’re comfortable doing. A first-time with three people at once probably isn't the best time to fly in with a strap-on and demand people obey you.
So doing this the old-fashioned way, with simple baiting, praising, awarding, withholding…that’s gonna be the way forward.
“Who’s got the best bed for a foursome?” you ask, still holding up Jisung but looking expectantly back at Chan and Changbin.
Changbin nudges Chan with his elbow, "D'you think you could handle moving your pillow fort? For sexy purposes."
"Pillow fort?" you repeat.
"I have a lot of pillows, it's fine," Chan defends. "No big deal."
"He makes a nest with them," pipes up Jisung, "Like a crib."
Chan glares at him, "I'm sorry, I didn't know it was Put Chan On Blast Night."
"Okay, whose bed is biggest?" you ask instead, deigning not to comment on the pillow thing any further.
"Changbin's," says Jisung.
"Then we can go there."
"Yes, ma'am," Changbin says easily, and he turns on his heel to head for the bedroom door on the right side of the house.
It's a small house, so he's quickly out of sight. Chan follows after him. You unwind your arms from around Jisung's little waist, and he lets himself drop dramatically backwards onto the couch cushions. You follow Chan, and Jisung chases after you.
Changbin's room is painted an off-white, the bedding rich dark blue against neutral wood furniture. It's extremely well-done for a college boy's room. You're impressed. It might even be more cohesive than your room. Now, at night, with just the soft light coming in from outside in the gap of his slightly-open blackout curtains, it looks impossibly atmospheric.
"Hold on," Changbin mutters, as you take in the space.
There's a soft click, and a set of fairy lights come on, strung around the perimeter of the room. They're an interesting color array, purple and blue and cool white. It's bright enough to see what you're doing, to see each other, but dark enough to set the tone. Yeah. They have a lot of sex in here. You're kind of excited to be part of it.
"Is there anyone-" you start, before your mind can filter the thought, and you stop.
But all three of them are just looking at you, standing there in a little line. You walk deeper into the room. You can do this. And so you swallow that last trace of lingering shame and ask them outright.
"Is there anyone who doesn't wanna fuck me?"
Jisung and Changbin break out in raucous laughter, and Chan just regards you.
"Why would we not want to?" Chan asks.
"I mean," you huff feeling petulant despite yourself, "Some people have no interest in the P in V stuff and would prefer something else, shut up!"
"You ask a lot of questions," Chan shoots back.
"I'm being considerate," you reply.
"No, I think we're all on board," interrupts Changbin, as if to head off a real argument.
You have no intention of fighting, though. You wonder what kind of people these three have hooked up with in the past. They obviously have no communication difficulties with each other, and yet they're (well...Chan is) being so difficult with you.
"Perfect," you say, "'Bin, c'mere."
Changbin shuffles nearer to you, leaving the others behind, and you look him over carefully. He's broad and strong, much bigger than Jisung. Your approach to him has to be a little different, you think. You make a quick decision: he's gonna be your ally tonight.
You lean into his ear and whisper the plan you've been making up on the fly. He listens. And when you've finished, Changbin grins conniving and bright.
"Does that sound good?" you ask him.
He nods. "I think they'll like it."
"Like what?" Jisung asks eagerly.
"Don't worry about it," you reply.
"I'm gonna worry about it," says Chan.
That dude. So neurotic. You really need to figure out what his buttons are, so you can know which ones to press and which to avoid. It's gonna take more than a little hair-pulling to figure out, you wager.
"'Bin, give me a hand?" you say, gesturing at your top.
Changbin gives you a winning smile and looks gloatingly back at Jisung, then at Chan, and then he reaches down to leisurely unbutton your shirt. You never wear button-downs, but you're glad you did tonight. They make undressing so much more...cinematic.
You shrug off the shirt when Changbin's done, the final button falling open, and you move next to strip off his t-shirt, too. He wears those things tight. He always has; you can't even count how many days in class you've spent staring at the muscular span of his shoulders. This one is the same, clinging to his form ridiculously, like he's trying out to be Captain America's body double.
When the t-shirt is gone, you're greeted with a thick, toned upper body that dips into solid, narrower hips. Not quite cut, no chocolate abs or anything, but he's got some impressive working muscle under his deep-toned skin. Beef. He's beefy.
"Wow," you say appreciatively, running your hand from his collarbone all the way down to his belt.
"What about us?" Jisung asks.
"Patience," you murmur, "Don't you want Changbinnie to feel good?"
Jisung pouts, but says, "Yes..."
"Then you can wait your turn," you say plaintively.
"Can I kiss you, noona?" Changbin asks.
You look at him, amused. "So you heard that conversation."
Changbin shakes his head. "I knew before. Chan-hyung always calls you-"
Chan squeaks, mortified, cutting him off, but you've heard plenty.
"Oh, he always calls me noona," you purr, "Before he knew how old I was?"
"Yes," Changbin says.
That's interesting, to say the least. It means that their approach to you from the start was to defer familiar respect and treat you like an elder, rather than a peer. Hm.
You get a little closer, bringing your face up to his. "Do you talk about me a lot?"
"No," Changbin breathes, "But when we do-"
"Dude!" Chan hisses.
"Don't listen to him," you soothe Changbin, giving Chan a little wink over your shoulder, "Thank you for telling me."
You kiss Changbin, since he did ask so nicely and gave you a wonderful tidbit about Chan. He's a good kisser. Needy; he's pressing you backwards with his enthusiasm. You reach to put your arms around his neck, but then you reconsider. Instead, you fold yourself against his chest, palms flat on his pecs. It gives the illusion that you're much smaller than him, even though admittedly he's not a very tall person.
The change in his body language is instantaneous. Your hunch was right - he likes feeling big. He did say not to make digs about his size. Well, you certainly won't about his height. But his size...
You move down and begin unbuckling his belt.
"How come only he gets to get naked?" Jisung complains.
You glance at him, hands busy unbuttoning and zipping down Changbin.
"I'm not stopping you," you reply, "You could undress without permission. But you'll miss out on all the fun if you just go off on your own."
Jisung blinks doe eyes at you, and Chan huffs out a laugh.
"Some dom you are, yeah?" Chan scoffs.
You shrug. "I can't make you do anything. I'm not gonna force you."
"No?" Chan says.
"That's the fun of this stuff, isn't it?" you say.
You ruffle Changbin's hair playfully, and motion for him to continue undressing himself. Willing all the grace you know you possess, you walk over to Chan, keeping your motions fluid and careless. You want him to see exactly what kind of dom you are.
"The fact that you don't have to listen to me. That's the fun," you say, "You don't have to. But you will. You wanna be good."
Chan swallows hard. "I..."
"I'm sure you like being good," you continue, cupping Chan's face in both of your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes. "You're gonna be good for me, aren't you, peach?"
"Yeah," he says, so quietly that you think you've imagined it, his cheeks burning red.
"I'm sorry," you hum, "I didn't hear that. Yes...?"
"Yes, noona," Chan says.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, noona, I'll be good for you."
"I thought you would be," you say, satisfied. "Go sit on the bed. Against the headboard."
He looks like he wants to complain about that, but you shrug again, punctuating that you're truly not here to force anyone. Domming is about control, not force. If Chan wants to turn over control to you, he will.
And he does.
He scrambles up the bed and sits with his back against the headboard. You can feel his eyes on you, and Jisung's wide, wide eyes, as you return to Changbin.
Changbin is down to his boxer-briefs, and God, he's good-looking. Solid and masculine. You kind of just want to have your way with him and be done with it. But that's not the plan.
“Jisung,” you say.
He jumps, not expecting to be addressed. “Yeah?”
“Are you okay bottoming tonight?”
“’Course,” he affirms, “Always. For who?”
You glance at Changbin, who nods, and Jisung smiles his biggest, most genuine smile, crooked front tooth and all.
“I like this plan,” he says.
That assent is all you need to hear.
“Is there lube?” you ask Changbin.
He turns away, presumably to grab it, and you snag Jisung by the wrist and tug him toward you. Jisung's wide smile is distracting, as you have him lie down on the bed. Changbin's bed is a king, you think, a really really big mattress with plenty of room to use. But when Jisung sprawls out easily, the top of his head is close to Chan.
"You have one rule, up there," you say to Chan, "No touching."
"No touching...him?" Chan asked, pointing at Jisung.
You smile. "No touching. Him, me, 'Bin, yourself. No touching."
Chan looks wide-eyed, almost hurt at your words. You can't tell exactly how he's feeling, so you move around the bed until you're right in front of him, and take one of his hands in yours.
"Is that okay?" you ask, "Are you okay with that?"
"I'm okay," he says.
You look at Changbin, waiting by Jisung's knees at the edge of the bed, and at Jisung himself, watching you upside-down.
"Can I implement the traffic light system?" you ask them, "It's the easiest safeword system for me, I think, with so many of you."
"You mean the color thing," Changbin clarifies.
"Yeah," you nod.
"We've used that one before," says Jisung agreeably, "We don't usually use any safewords but we can do that.
You turn back to Chan. "Does that work for you?"
He smiles, and it warms up his face all the way to his eyes, so you relax.
"Yeah, that works well," he says.
"Good," you say, "So. Color?"
"Green," says Chan.
"Great."
You lean in and kiss him for his trouble, realizing with a thrill that you've really only kissed him one other time. He's damn good at it, too, eager but gentle with just enough pressure. You pull back right as he starts to really melt against you, and drop his hand back onto his lap, in favor of returning to Jisung where you've left him.
Jisung, for his part, is lounging back on his elbows, just watching you, and you nudge his knees farther apart as you settle in between them. You can feel Changbin's warmth behind you again as he hovers, not quite touching you.
"Noona," he whines.
You glance back at him, his chin at your shoulder.
"I know," you tut, "You're already doing a good job for me, gorgeous."
He beams at the praise, and repeats, "Noonaaaa."
You smile to yourself at the lilt in his voice. "You can touch, baby."
There are suddenly lips against the side of your throat, Changbin trailing kisses across your skin, and hands on your waist pulling you back gingerly, as if he's afraid you'll tell him off for being too greedy (which is a good and valid worry). You lean away, down toward Jisung, and coax him upright to peel the baggy t-shirt off him. As you get the garment over his head, you're surprised to see firm abs and pecs. Jisung is small and thin, but apparently very, very muscular. Huh.
"You've been holding out on me," you chide him.
"Don't think about it that way, noona," Jisung says, "Think of it as a nice surprise."
You huff out a laugh. He's being kind of mouthy, but it's cute, so you're gonna let it slide. Mostly.
"Are you in any position to be telling me what to do?" you tease.
Jisung shrugs, lips pursed. You tickle your fingers down the hard line of his abs, grinning when he jumps and squeaks under your touch.
"'Bin?" you ask.
"Yes?"
"Who here is overdressed?"
Changbin hums against your skin, mouthing at the soft juncture of your neck and your shoulder, and says, "Jisungie, noona. And you."
"Not Chan?" you ask lightly.
Changbin grins. You can feel the flats of his teeth against your skin.
"Not unless you say so, noona," Changbin says.
"Good call, gorgeous," you say, leaning back into his touch.
He's hard against your ass, you note. Perfect. You go for Jisung's skintight jeans next, unbuttoning and peeling the black denim down his slim thighs. He's so dainty, all thin graceful limbs, his frame small but masculine and defined. You can see his cock twitch with interest as you get the jeans all the way off, his boxers beginning to tent.
"Excited?" you ask, letting your hand trail over him, gently feeling the outline of him through the thin fabric.
"Yeah," he says, shameless.
"Who should get undressed first?" you ask Jisung,
Jisung must register something in your tone, as his big eyes look from you, to Changbin, back to you.
And then he says, "Me, noona."
"Oh," you purr, "Good boy."
You free him from his boxers, and it's not a surprise when you're met with a pretty, proportional cock, flushed and lovely. You're hit with the urge to feel the weight of him in your mouth. And fuck, this is YOUR game, isn't it? So you lean down and do just that, taking his head between your lips.
Jisung gasps, high and pretty, and you can see Chan's face above you darken. He looks...jealous?
"Peach, you okay?" you say, coming off Jisung to speak.
Chan looks at you, puppy-eyed.
"I want..." he trails plaintively.
"I know you do," you agree. “Don’t be greedy.”
He's still sitting obediently, hands balled into fists atop his thighs and not touching anything. He's the only one fully dressed, and you can tell that it's driving him crazy. He can wait. You know he can.
So you nuzzle against Jisung's stomach indulgently and ask him, "Who next?"
Jisung pauses, comprehending what you've asked, and then he says, "Changbin-hyung."
You place your hand over Changbin's where it still rests in its spot on your waist.
"You heard him, Binnie," you say, "Go 'head."
His warmth vanishes from behind you for only a few seconds before he's back, his now unencumbered cock brushing against your shorts. You grip Jisung's length again, pumping him for a moment, looking down at him with a glint in your eye.
"Here's what's going to happen," you say, standing up properly, "I'm going to prep you for Changbin, baby. And Changbin is gonna have some fun of his own while I do it."
Jisung nods his understanding at your words, his expression delighted, and Chan is all but panting as he sits pretty for you. There's a lovely flush creeping from his ears toward the neckline of his button-down shirt.
You shuck off your own shorts, left now in just your bra and panties. As you look down at yourself, you realize that while they are not a matching set, your underwear ARE about the same color, which you count as a personal victory. It's the little things.
"Hand me a pillow, peach?" you ask Chan.
He nearly topples over in his eagerness to give you a pillow from the head of the bed. You have Jisung raise his hips, and settle the pillow under him, angling him up for better access. He doesn't seem the slightest bit self-conscious, on display to you like that. You almost hate how attractive that is.
"Everyone, color?" you ask.
"Green," chirps Jisung, almost before you're done speaking.
"Green," Chan agrees.
"So green," Changbin groans from behind you, where he's still grinding against your ass.
"Wonderful," you murmur.
You turn your attention fully to the boy beneath you. Jisung is impeccably groomed, maybe even better than you, you think. There's a neat thatch of hair around the base, and he's all but hairless everywhere else. It's impressive.
You trail your hand over his balls, his perineum, to his hole, and he chokes out a moan as you just graze the thin skin there.
"Are you sure you're ready to go, Jisungie?" you ask, and he nods eagerly.
"I wanted to bottom tonight anyway," he informs you cheekily.
Chan laughs, which melts any of your lingering worries that you've overwhelming or neglecting him.
"That's true," Chan says softly. "He told us before the party."
"You guys are so much fun," you say.
The lube is laying on the comforter next to you, so you pick it up, pop the top, and coat two of your fingers in the stuff. You lean down over Jisung again, knowing how obscene you must look together, him all spread out for you and you draped over his lithe little body. You're sure both Chan, in front, and Changbin, behind, are getting an eyeful of the two of you.
"I'm gonna start," you warn Jisung.
"Finally," Jisung teases, "I was beginning to think - shit-"
He's cut off as you ease your index finger past that ring of muscle. The slide is much easier than you expected, but he still whines out in a pitch higher than you would have thought.
"You do this a lot?" you ask him, only half-teasing, slowly pumping your finger and relishing in the easy way he takes you, "You're so open."
"I do, yeah," Jisung agrees, breathless.
"And here I thought you were the bottom of the group," you say to Chan, letting a little bit of bite into your voice, wondering if they're at all into that.
Chan's flush picks back up, and he stammers, "I - mean-"
"He can be a great little hole, too," Jisung says, casually, "I wrecked him a couple days ago, didn't I, hyung?"
Still blushing furiously, Chan nods.
"Interesting," you say simply, turning your attention back to Jisung, "Hey, what happened to those pretty sounds?"
You curl your finger slightly, and Jisung lets out another gasp.
"That's more like it," you praise.
You almost wish you had a strap here, so you could do the next part yourself, too. But your actual plan is gonna be just as much fun, so you can easily be content with this.
"Noona," comes Changbin's voice.
"Yes?" you answer.
"Can I...I mean..." Changbin trails off, seeming embarrassed.
"Can you?" you prompt, amused at his sudden shyness.
"Can I make you feel good, too?" he asks.
"Oh, baby," you simper, "Of course. So good, asking for permission."
Changbin laughs breathlessly, and so does Jisung.
"Isn't he good?" you ask Jisung.
"Good," Jisung agrees, though he nearly chokes on the word.
He seems to be ready for another finger, so you draw out and press back in with two, this time. At the same time, you lean down to take his length back into your mouth. Jisung whimpers again, starting to press his hips down against your hand.
As you're bent over at the waist, pleasuring Jisung, you feel tentative fingers pulling your panties to the side. You wonder if you're going to get the warm press of a cockhead, or-
"Oh," you breathe, pulling off Jisung's cock again to collect yourself as the unmistakable trace of a tongue wanders up your core.
Changbin pulls away just as quickly as he began, and you all but groan in frustration.
"Come on, gorgeous, don't be shy," you urge.
And the tongue returns, more eager this time, as Changbin settles himself fully between your legs. You steel yourself to enjoy while also focusing on the task at hand, prepping Jisung, and keeping your wits about you. Changbin definitely doesn't seem like he's only a sub, and neither do the other two, honestly. They seem like switches, if you had to hazard a guess. It would be in poor taste to let any of them turn the tables on you, now, wouldn't it?
Your mind wanders a little as you scissor and work your two fingers, Jisung trembling and whimpering praise under you, Changbin's plush lips against your clit. How the fuck did you get here?
You're kind of floored to think that maybe an hour ago, you were at that party, bored, barely buzzed, and anonymous, or so you thought. Plain old you. And now you're here, sandwiched between two of the hot, popular guys from Physics class with the third one watching you and white-knuckling the sheets.
A surge of power sweeps through you at the thought. You're here. You have this. You deserve this. And you're gonna have a good fucking time.
"I'm ready!" Jisung is sputtering, "I'm - I'm-"
"Ready," you finish for him, bringing your focus back to the moment.
There's arousal building low in your stomach. Changbin is good with his mouth. You kind of wish you could see him while he's doing this.
"Ready for what?" you ask Jisung.
"More!" he whines, “More, Jesus, two fingers is basic!”
You pull your fingers out, which just makes him whine louder, to reapply lube. This time, you push in with three, and Jisung keens long and low.
"You know, Changbinnie," you say, making sure to keep your voice measured and casual, "You're gonna need to get wet to fit inside Jisungie's pretty hole."
Changbin pulls himself up at your words, leaving your core wet and exposed and distinctly throbbing, and he leans forward to take the lube from you. You stop him before he can take the bottle.
"That's not what I meant," you say sweetly.
There's a fraction of a second while he catches up, and then Changbin groans openly against your shoulder blade, as you continue to work your fingers steadily in and out of Jisung.
"Noona, we have condoms in Chan-hyung's room," Changbin says, "I can go-"
"No," you say, "No need."
And that's all the permission Changbin seems to need, before he's lining himself up.
"Can I?" he asks.
You coo. He hasn't missed a single beat, sweet and obedient and so ready to be good for you.
"You're so good, gorgeous," you say, "Yes, please."
He sinks into you quickly, no preamble, and you can't blame him for being eager because you're secretly just as ready for it. He's thicker than you expected, but you should have expected it, considering the rest of his body. You find yourself panting against Jisung’s hipbone, your fingers pausing inside Jisung as you enjoy the delicious stretch.
“Can I move, noona?” Changbin asks, sounding punched-out already.
“Take it slow,” you instruct him, “This is just a warmup for you, you know.”
Changbin whines under his breath but obeys you, pulling out agonizingly slowly. As you try to keep your head clear, you notice Chan shifting on the bed ahead of you, and you have an idea.
“Okay, peach,” you say, keeping your voice level, “Why don’t you come over here and have a good look?”
“A look?” Chan repeats, “At…”
You smile to yourself. “At whatever you want. Jisung is a pretty picture, I’m sure you know that.”
“And you, noona,” Changbin cuts in.
“And me?” you say, amused.
“Pretty,” says Changbin, by way of explanation, as he keeps up his slow, slow pace.
“Thanks,” you say, arching back against him, figuring he deserves a little reward.
You nod at Chan, encouraging, and he crawls off the bed and comes around behind you. You’re sure he can see everything from where he is - your fingers disappearing into Jisung’s heat, Changbin’s cock disappearing into you. The combined power of Changbin’s steady pace and Chan watching it all is a little overwhelming. You need to narrow your focus or else someone is gonna come before you intend it to happen, and that someone might just be you.
You gently pull your fingers out of Jisung’s hole, leaving him complaining behind you.
“It was just starting to get good, come on!” Jisung whines
“Patience, baby,” you say, giving Jisung a playing smack on the meat of his thigh.
You turn your head fully to look at Chan. He’s staring, transfixed, down on the place where Changbin’s cock is slowly working in and out of you. And now that your brain isn’t focusing on being careful with Jisung, the arousal is really catching up with you. You’re getting close.
Really, you reason, what’s the harm in having a little more fun for yourself?
“Jisungie,” you say, “You wanna give me a hand here?”
He looks rightfully confused, until you reach up and snap your own bra strap against your skin. Then Jisung winks at you, and reaches around to push-pull-snap open the hooks in the back in one fluid movement.
“How’d you get so good at that?” you ask him, amused. “None of your partners wear bras.”
Jisung looks offended. “Who says I don’t wear ‘em?”
“Good point.”
You shrug off the garment, now only in your panties, which aren’t doing much of anything anymore since Changbin’s fucking you around them. Jisung’s eyes are following your breasts as you readjust yourself, sitting up more and shifting your weight onto your knees. Man, your core is gonna be killing you tomorrow…
“Lock it up, baby, shit,” you tease Jisung, “How long has it been since you’ve seen tiddies?”
“That weren’t on a man? I don’t even know.”
“Hm.”
You reach down and start drawing lazy circles on your clit, and you can feel yourself clench down on Changbin at the stimulation. He gasps, and you tut at him.
“I know you can wait for me, gorgeous,” you say.
He whines, “But-”
“Changbinnie. You’re gonna let me feel good, aren’t you?” you ask him. “Don’t I deserve to cum first?”
“Yes,” he grinds out.
“Noona, can I do it?” Jisung asks suddenly.
You’re still hovering over him, all but laying on top of him, and you look down at his face. His eyes are fixed on your fingers, rubbing yourself through your underwear.
“Do what?” you ask, just to be difficult.
“Make you cum,” Jisung answers.
You take your hand off your clit and reach out to thread your fingers through Jisung’s, leading him back to the front of your panties.
“You and Binnie need to work together for this, huh?” you say, “One of you isn’t good enough? It has to be two?”
“I’m good enough,” Changbin argues.
“Shush,” you admonish, “Then prove it.”
You let your hand fall away again, as Jisung takes up the task. He slips his fingers down your waistband, circling hard and tight over your clit. Changbin, obedient to the end, is still somehow keeping up those slow, deep strokes that you demanded. And you have to admit: they’re determined to prove it.
“Jesus, noona,” Changbin whines.
“You’re not gonna cum yet,” you instruct.
“I know.”
Jisung meets Changbin’s eye over your shoulder; you can tell that’s what he’s doing from the smirk on Jisung’s face and the muttered shut up that Changbin stifles into your neck. He gets up on his knees, and you find yourself pressed between them, your forehead against Jisung’s breastbone as his fingers work under you. You glance up, intending to tell Jisung off for making his next move on his own, but the vision you see knocks that idea right out of your head.
They’re making out over you.
It’s so beautifully desperate, Changbin biting and panting into Jisung’s mouth and whining under it all as he fucks into you, Jisung with one hand fisted in Changbin’s hair and the other still dutifully circling your clit, wet and dirty. As you feel your peak coming on, you remember the last member of your party, poor Chan, still relegated to his spectator’s spot behind you all, still under orders not to touch. You look up at him, and God, you wish you had looked sooner.
Chan is standing there, hands cemented at his sides. He’s flushed from the tips of his ears all the way down his neck, to his chest, creeping under his shirt, and his eyes are hungry. But he’s being good, no matter how much he wants to move.
He’s still being good, and that’s what sends you over the edge. You drop your head back down against Jisung’s chest, and gasp and shake your way through your own orgasm. Changbin lets out a moan that borders on a shout, as you surprise him with your clenching walls, and he slows down even more, just grinding into you. There’s something so bone-deep satisfying about it, all three of the boys with their eyes on you and unable to do anything without your permission. They just have to watch and hold back.
You wait until you can speak properly before you say anything to them.
“You didn’t cum, did you, gorgeous?” you ask, swiveling your oversensitive pussy back on Changbin, spots swimming in your vision from how hard you came.
“No, noona,” Changbin says, and his voice is thin with strain but confident.
You know he didn’t, but it’s satisfying to make him say it. He’s holding still now, just standing there stuffing you full. That orgasm cleared your head a bit; you feel more centered than ever. And you feel a little bit bad for Chan, honestly. He’s gotten the least attention from you so far.
“I think Channie really wishes he was you two right now. What d’you think, peach?” you ask, directing the last part at Chan.
Chan doesn’t answer right away, which is just as well, because you can see his erection straining against his dark jeans. His eyes are fixed between your legs, where you can feel your own wetness inching obscenely out around Changbin’s cock.
“I asked you a question,” you say, louder, and Chan looks at your face instead of your pussy.
“I think I’ve been good, noona,” Chan says quietly.
“Let’s get a second opinion, hm?” you say.
You peel Changbin’s hands off your waist and scoot away from him, pulling yourself off his dick, and push Jisung away to give yourself some room. You settle beside Jisung, who sits back down against the mattress and leans on his elbows to look at the rest of you.
“But noonaaaa,” Changbin whines.
“You got some already,” you admonish. “Don’t be greedy.”
Changbin pouts at you, and you reach out and squish his cheeks in your hand. He just lets you do it, and you lean in and kiss his lips. He deserves it, and more.
“So. Consensus,” you say, “Has Channie been good?”
“Not as good as me,” Changbin mutters.
You laugh, and turn to Jisung expectantly for his answer.
“I think so,” Jisung says, “He listens to you much better than he listens to me.”
“How honest,” you say.
You turn and swing one leg over Jisung’s torso, only hesitating for a second as you factor in your body weight on top of his dainty little body and then deciding it doesn’t matter. You sit up straight, facing Jisung so that you can see his expression, trapping his bare cock between your folds, still kind of covered in your stretched and soaked panties, and his stomach.
“Oh, Jesus,” Jisung wheezes, throwing his head back.
“They’re really roasting you,” you say to Chan conversationally, as if you’re not torturing Jisung in the same moment.
“I’m used to it,” he replies, giving you a sheepish smile that shows his deep dimples.
His casual admission is strangely charming, and it makes you smile back. You grind down on Jisung just for a second, just to hear the noise that he makes. He doesn't disappoint, a whine coming up from his chest as his hands scrabble at the sheets. He doesn't touch you, even though you haven't said that he can't. The faultless obedience is thrilling.
"Are you ready for a little more?" you ask Jisung, nodding toward Changbin.
"A little?" Changbin protests.
You send him a wink, realizing the stupid joke. "Oh, come on, that wasn't a dig."
"Thin ice, noona," he mutters.
You raise an eyebrow at that. "Excuse me?"
"Biting the hand that feeds you, hyung," Jisung sing-songs, tilting his head up.
"Jisungie, you talk too much," you tease.
You shift over Jisung so that the head of his cock prods at your entrance. You're still wet and messy from all of their handiwork, and Jisung keens.
"We don't need him, do we?" you nod over your shoulder at Changbin.
"I mean, I was looking forward to the dicking, but - oh shit" Jisung moans, as you reach down and pull your panties aside properly, and let the very tip of him slip inside you.
"This isn't the plan," Changbin complains.
You smile at him sweetly. "I just don't want anyone to forget who's in charge here."
You climb off Jisung, leaving him whining in your wake, and move up to the spot at the head of the bed where you'd sat Chan earlier. The three boys watch as you settle cross-legged, casual as anything.
"I think," you say, resting your chin in your hand and your elbow on your knee, "I think that I just want to watch for a while."
All three of them, Changbin and Chan standing side by side and Jisung sitting half-upright, look at you with matching wide eyes. You tut, looking right back at them and silently making up your mind.
"Come here, peach," you say, making grabby hands at Chan.
He complies easily, coming back up the bed toward you, and you uncross your legs to make some room, patting the mattress in front of you. Chan pauses, kneeling between your open legs, and you turn him around gently by the shoulders. You sit him down with his back pressed to your chest. He's still fully dressed, even after everything that’s gone on, and his silky black shirt is cool and soft against your bare skin. His broad shoulders cover you entirely, but he melts against you, sliding down a little so that his head rests at the crook of your neck, curly black hair against your cheek.
"Jisungie, Binnie?" you say, "I want you to put on a good show for me while I give this poor baby boy some attention."
You let your hands wander to the top button on Chan's shirt. It's not the top button, really, because he's got the first three undone already to show a span of pale toned chest. So you unbutton the next one, and crawl your fingers down to the next, too.
"So I can," Changbin starts, "I can-"
"Yes," you nod, "But neither of you can cum until I say so. Okay?"
"Okay," says Jisung eagerly.
"You have to earn it," you warn, "A good show."
Jisung and Changbin look at each other, significantly, like they're silently concocting their own plan. You decide you can get a hand on that ball, too.
"Channie, wouldn't they be pretty if they kissed for us?" you ask, murmuring right into Chan's ear.
He nods eagerly, and you pop another shirt button. You glance down at Chan's torso, completely bare to you now, all pale smooth skin and chiseled abs. So you ease the silky shirt off his shoulders, down his arms, and discard it off the side of the bed.
By the time you look back up, Jisung has Changbin pinned to the bed, straddling his waist and kissing him right into the mattress.
"Oh," you say mildly, "Promising start, hm?"
You stroke up and down Chan's abs with your fingertips, and he laughs gently.
"They're always like this," he says.
"Thirsty?"
"Out of control," he corrects.
Jisung breaks away from Changbin's mouth, frowning at Chan. "You love it, you asshole. You're just as bad."
Chan nestles back into you more and doesn't say anything, but you can see an answering half-smile creeping over his face. Changbin takes advantage of the distraction to flip Jisung over onto his back, finally flexing the strength you know he has, and bends Jisung nearly in half. His knees are up by his shoulders, and his face is more than a little alarmed.
"Hey, I'm not that bendy!" Jisung protests.
"Yeah, you are," Changbin shushes, "Do you wanna cum or not?"
You grin. "Come on, then."
With a big upside-down sigh, Jisung looks at you, while Changbin digs around in the sheets for the lube.
"You see what I have to deal with?" Jisung asks you, "They're so good and nice for you, and for me? This disrespect. I don't even know - OH-"
Jisung cuts off, and it's obvious what's happening from the way Changbin's hands fly down to Jisung's hips and Jisung's back arches up to meet him. You hum your satisfaction, taking in the blissful expression on Changbin's face, and the sweat already beading at Jisung's hairline.
But you quickly realize that you can't see nearly well enough. They're laying up the bed properly, feet at the foot and Jisung's head against the mattress near yours and Chan's intertwined legs. But if they were perpendicular to you...
"Okay, gorgeous," you coo, and Changbin's head snaps up at the sound of the pet name, "Turn around on the bed so that I can see exactly how nice Jisungie fits around you."
It takes a second, but Changbin processes your words with a slow blink, and grabs Jisung's hips to unceremoniously turn them ninety degrees. Now they're laying across the bed widthwise, and you have a delightful view of Changbin's thick cock sinking into Jisung smoothly. He's set a brutal pace, snapping against Jisung's narrow hips with a force that makes you clench around nothing. He’s obviously making up for the painfully slow pace you made him take on you. It's quiet enough that all you can hear is the perverse squelch of lube and the tiny breathy sighs Jisung makes every time Changbin bottoms out.
"Jesus," Chan breathes, and you nearly jump out of your skin; despite the weight of him on you, you've all but forgotten about him while you're taking in the view in front of you.
"How do they look?" you ask him, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair.
"So good," Chan answers, "So - ah-"
You tug his curls gently, and Chan arches his neck back so that his head rests fully on your shoulder.
"Noona," Changbin says with an edge of desperation in his voice, pulling your attention back to him, "Noona, I'm not, I can't-"
"You gotta hold on for me, gorgeous," you coax.
Changbin nods, digging his fingers into Jisung's hips and making his poor boyfriend squeak at the added pressure. He sits back on his heels, pulling Jisung with him, so that he’s almost upright, giving you a delightful view of their bodies meeting. It makes you groan to yourself, waves of arousal peeling through your gut.
You reach down to undo Chan’s belt and jeans, and it only takes a moment to rid him of those, too. He’s ridiculously hard in his black boxers, and as you palm him through the fabric, you have to admit that he’s the biggest of the three of them.
“Who’s gonna cum first?” you ask Chan.
He drags his eyes away from the sight of Jisung’s arched back, the faint bruises forming under Changbin’s hands, and looks up at you.
“I don’t know,” he murmurs.
“I think Jisung’s earned it,” you decide, “Peach, you wanna give him a hand?”
“Not him,” Jisung gasps.
Chan looks affronted. “Hey!”
“Noona please,” Jisung begs. “Please!”
“Oh, you want me?” you ask, smirking.
Jisung nods, gasping and screwing his eyes shut as Changbin keeps up that punishing pace. You can have mercy on him, can’t you?
Chan leans forward so you can wiggle out from behind him, and you sit back on your heels beside Changbin and Jisung. The view is even better up close: Changbin’s muscles bunching and expanding, Jisung rocking up the bed with every thrust. Changbin’s gorgeous face furrowed in concentration. Jisung’s rim contracting obscenely around the cock still working in and out of him.
You feel delightfully gross, wonderfully perverse and voyeuristic, and you lean down to kiss Jisung. He kisses back like he’s starving, panting into your mouth.
“Pretty boy,” you say, right against his lips, “Do you want to cum?”
Jisung nods, his eyes barely focusing on you, the attention going right to his head. “Yes, noona!”
“What do you need to cum?” you ask him.
“Your…hand, noona, or your mouth, please,” Jisung whines.
You smile at him, leaning in for one more kiss. “You can cum when you’re ready, baby.”
“Yes, noona.”
One down, one to go. You shuffle so that you’re sitting face to face with Changbin and he all but falls forward to kiss you, his hips not even stuttering as they drive forward. His singular focus is impressive. You let Changbin press messy open-mouth kisses against your lips, your cheeks, as you finally wrap a hand around Jisung’s cock.
His whole body jumps when you start jerking him quickly. It only takes two, three, four pumps before Jisung is babbling, begging for your permission even though you’ve already given it.
“Noona, I’m going to – please let me cum, I need it, I need-”
“Go ahead, pretty baby, cum for me,” you say.
That’s all it takes for Jisung to come into your hand with a shout, loud and high-pitched and cracking in the middle. His voice is a rush of power, like adrenaline in your veins, and you keep up your pace, stroking him through his orgasm. You look to Changbin next, watching him as he throws his head back and moans openly at the feeling of Jisung coming around him. His eyes are wide open, still, and he finds your gaze as he finally begins to lose his pace. This is the second person’s orgasm he’s had to ride out, poor thing. It almost makes you want to keep going, see how long he can last…
“I-” he stutters, “I want…”
“Ask nicely,” you instruct.
“I want to cum, noona,” Changbin pleads.
“That doesn’t sound like asking nicely.”
Changbin makes a tiny sound of despair, and tries again, “Please, may I cum, noona? I’ve – God – I’ve been good, haven’t I? Please?”
He’s beautiful, begging so nicely for you. You bring up your hand that’s covered in Jisung’s cum and nudge the dirty fingers against his lips. Without hesitating, Changbin sucks two fingers into his mouth, his tongue working between the digits.
“Filthy,” you coo.
Changbin just whines around your fingers.
“Who are you cumming for, Binnie?” you ask, taking your hand back.
“You.”
“Hm?” you feign ignorance.
“You!”
“Who?”
“You, noona,” he moans.
“Okay, gorgeous, you can cum.”
“Thank you.”
With a final moan that sounds an awful lot like your name, Changbin cums, making Jisung whine out in his high, cracked little voice at the feeling of it. You lean back, just watching and enjoying, as they both come down.
Two down, one to go.
Chan is still waiting for you, though you wouldn’t doubt that he’s a little less patient than he was at the beginning of the session. He’s sitting back against the headboard again when you turn around, just watching you. You notice that he’s actually sitting on top of his hands, and you smile disdainfully at him.
“Oh, peach,” you say, “Are you so fucking desperate that you have to sit on your pretty little hands, to keep from disobeying me?”
“I’ve listened to you, noona,” Chan says.
“Is it so hard for you to be good?” you chide.
“It’s not!” he insists weakly.
“Shit, I think we could go again,” Jisung comments offhandedly, breaking your train of thought.
You look at him, suppressing your smile in favor of a cool stare. “Can you not let me deal with our sweet peach for two fucking minutes?”
“I’m just sayin’,” Jisung defends, holding up his hands in surrender. “Refractory period? Great.”
You decide to ignore Jisung and his big mouth. Chan deserves some undivided attention, and you planned right from the start that you’d have him like this.
Rolling your eyes in Jisung’s direction, you crawl over and take hold of Chan’s boxers, and pull them down his pale pretty legs and off. He looks distinctly shy when he’s finally fully naked for you, so you return the favor by slipping off your ruined panties. You can feel two sets of eyes on your ass as you maneuver yourself onto Chan’s lap.
You’re delighted to find that if you sit up perfectly straight, you’re taller than him. Tall enough that he has to tilt his head back to look at you. He’s all wide brown eyes and handsome flushed skin, and you stare down at him fondly.
“What do you want, peach?” you ask.
“You…” Chan trails.
You walk your hand up his shoulder, up into his hair, and tug at the back of his head. He tilts his chin up, leaning into the action, exposing his long beautiful neck to you. You can’t help it – you lean in and indulgently bite into the skin on the side of his throat.
“What about me?” you ask against his flesh.
You can feel Chan swallow. “I want…to fuck you, noona.”
“I know you can ask nicely.”
As you trail down and add another bite under the first, leaving your mark behind on his porcelain skin, Chan shows you just how well he can ask.
“Please, noona,” he breathes, “I can make you feel good, like Changbinnie, better than Changbinnie, wanna fuck you so good and fill-”
He cuts off with an embarrassed whimper, as if he’d almost let something slip. Unluckily for him, you have a pretty good idea what he was about to say.
“Oh, peach, you’re dirty,” you purr.
“I’m sorry, I-” Chan sputters, but you cut him off.
“No, no, no, no,” you shush him, “I like it.”
You lift yourself up slightly so that you can reach down and line him up with your pussy, and without preamble, you sink down on him. You know you’re still wet and sloppy from before, and Chan groans shamelessly as you settle your hips firmly against his.
“You can have me, but you’re doing all the work,” you inform him.
Apparently, that’s no problem for Chan, because he plants his feet on the mattress for leverage and begins pistoning upwards into you. You rise onto your knees slightly to meet him, making him work harder, rise higher to chase what he wants.
His pace is brutal, his hips moving precise and intense against yours, and you’re shocked to feel a second, penetrative orgasm rising on its own. You’re still so sensitive from cumming the first time, you know you’re not going to last very long. But Chan is having a similar problem.
“I’m not…I’m not going to last, noona, I’m-” Chan moans, sounding embarrassed by it.
You coo at him. His self-consciousness, even this far into a scene, is so endearing.
“Did you get all worked up watching Jisung and Changbin have their fun?” you ask, patronizing.
Chan nods, throwing his head all the way back as he chases his high, driving into you hard. “So good, noona, it was so good…”
You glance over your shoulder at the other two, the mention of them making you wonder what they’re up to, unattended over there, and you’re met with quite the scene.
“It seems like they’re enjoying us, too,” you say.
Chan brings his head forward again with what seems like a tremendous amount of effort, and peels his eyes open. When he sees his boyfriends behind you, his breakneck pace finally stutters.
“Fuck,” he groans, “Oh, Jesus Christ-”
Jisung is standing beside the bed, bracing himself against the wall like he’ll collapse if left only to his own strength. Which is valid, because Changbin is knelt between his legs, Jisung’s cock down his throat and Jisung’s hand on the back of his head, guiding him.
“They weren’t kidding about being ready another round,” you joke, and to your utter delight, Chan laughs.
“And I wasn’t kidding about – noona, fuck,” Chan whimpers, “I’m not – can I cum, noona?”
You hum. “You wanna fill me up, peach?”
Chan’s breath hitches at your words, and if it’s even possible, he begins fucking into you harder. He’s hitting you just right inside, cockhead brushing against that delicious spot and making stars dance in your vision. You can count on one hand how many times you’ve cum just from a partner like this, and you’re salivating at the idea of it. You’re so damn close.
“Yes,” he whines, “Noona please let me, I’ll make you feel so good, I promise, fill you up with my cum and – and-”
“You’ve waited long enough for me, peach,” you say, reaching up to cup his face in both of your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes. “Cum.”
On command, like the good boy he is, Chan cries out, high pitched and absolutely beautiful, and cums. And then, surprise of surprises, he snakes one hand down between the two of you and finds your clit, rubbing into the poor sore nerves like he might die if he doesn’t make you cum.
And you do. You can’t even choke down the squeak of “Chan, oh, fuck!” as you clamp down on him, pleasure bursting behind your eyelids like fireworks and warming you all the way down to your toes.
As your orgasm fades and the world comes back into focus around you, the first thing you see is Chan’s self-satisfied little smile. That smug bastard…
You grin back at him, pushing him away by the chest, “Shut up.”
Gingerly, you climb off his softening cock and off his lap entirely, to throw yourself down haphazardly on the bed. Chan collapses across you, landing heavy over your legs and making you protest for your poor ankles.
“I can confidently say, that was fantastic,” comes Chan’s muffled voice, facedown in the mattress as he is.
“Seconded,” says Jisung.
You tilt your head back to see Jisung and Changbin peering down at you, both looking heavy-eyed and swollen-lipped. They look as drained as you feel, and just as satisfied.
“That was a hell of a show, (Y/N)-noona,” Changbin says.
“Glad you liked it, I worked really hard,” you tease. “Does anyone need water? Food?”
“Cuddles,” mumbles Chan.
“Yeah, you have to stay the night, noona, aftercare and cuddling is non-negotiable,” Jisung agrees.
Changbin nods. “We’re even better at that than the sex.”
It shouldn’t be as touching as it is that they want you to stay. But fondness wells up in your chest, soft delight that they seem to enjoy your platonic company just as much as your sexual company. But this bed is disgusting. Changbin needs to wash his sheets, there’s no way you can sleep here in the miasma of lube and bodily fluids.
And besides, the four of you need to talk about all of this at some point. You’re still their classmate, after all, at least until the end of the semester, and an impromptu hookup like this can lead to some real awkward class meetings. Some pillow talk, some cuddles, and some Gatorade are all in order here.
So you smile, wide and honest and mischievous, and stand up on shaky legs to head for the bedroom door. The boys look confused at your seemingly sudden departure, and you cock a thumb at the other bedroom, across the hall.
“Now, Channie, where’s that pillow fort I heard so much about?”
#stray kids#stray kids smut#stray kids fanfic#3racha#3racha smut#3racha fic#bang chan#han jisung#seo changbin#reader#reader insert#kpop#kpop fanfic#sub!idol#fem dom#dom reader
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Keeping a Secret - Part 4
pairing: Tsukishima x f!manager of Sendai Frogs
genre: sexual tension/crack/fluff/slow burn
wc: 7.6k
[a/n]
Let me know if you want to be part of the taglist uwu
AO3
Part 3 || Part 5 || masterlist
Tsukishima might not like you, but at least you unspokenly agreed on how to treat the strange tension from last time’s meeting: ignore it.
No one dared mention it. Since he arrived a while ago, no one talked unless needed. It’s not like the air is awkward, it’s just silent, devoid of last time’s weird shenanigan as you continued on with the unfinished assignment from his previous visit.
“I assume you’re done from how you’re spacing out at nothing,” he reprimands.
You flinch and realize that you’ve been staring at the wall behind Tsukishima.
“Oh, uhhh.” You check your laptop to see your progress and surprisingly, you really are done. Your brain must have shut down on it’s own when it registered that you’re finished with your work for the day.
“Yep!” You snicker proudly at him. “Are we going to watch crocodiles doing the nasty now?” you ask him with eager interest.
You really have a way with words that always throws him off-guard, yet instead of scowling at you, he just gives out a resigned sigh. He knows you aren’t trying to irk him. That’s just how you really are.
It’ll be better for his sanity to just tolerate your and leave you be than drive himself to the brink of madness.
“Yeah,” he responds thriftly.
You giddily scurry over at his side of the table and comfortably seat yourself beside him. You hug your knees as he prepares several videos from BBC Earth and Nat Geo Wild that shows and explains crocodile mating behavior. He turns up the volume of his laptop to its loudest so you can both hear the audio clearly.
In the second video, the voice-over explains the kinds of display reptiles make to attract their potential mate. His eyes glance at you briefly. Not that he’s complaining about it, but you’re acting unusually docile today . You’ve been mostly quiet ever since he arrived.
It’s all good until he hears a wheezing noise that sounds all too real and all too weird for it to come from the video.
He looks to you and immediately finds the culprit.
Your lips are parted with your neck extended forward and your chin tilted up a bit while you produce guttural sounds, making it seem like you’re choking.
“What are you doing?”
You face him, still looking like an idiot as you continue making a sound he’s never heard of with the same absurd upper body posture. He looks at you with abhorrence when he starts to realize what you’re doing.
Are you actually trying to imitate a crocodile bellowing for a mate?
You sit up straight and beam at him with pride. “How’s that for a mating call?”
If he were a male crocodile, he’d find another estuary to escape away from that horrible sound you were producing. “You sound like you’re dying,” he says as he remembers how it seemed like you were hoarsely scratching your vocal cords together.
“Wait, wait. Lemme try again,” you announce with determination, which he finds pointless and totally unnecessary. He doesn’t care if you successfully do it. He even prefers you stop trying at all.
Yet, you still pressed on. You resume your earlier actions, looking even more ridiculous as you start to sound and look like a seagull squawking repeatedly.
He should be irritated since you’re wasting time. Instead, he puts a fist over his mouth, attempting to hold back a snort. You don’t seem to notice because your eyes are on the laptop as you keep trying to replicate what you’re seeing on screen.
When you actually start choking, he lets out the laugh that he’s been holding in which makes you look at him. You try to speak but it comes out distorted as you’re still coughing from your mating call attempt.
“You look like an idiot.” He laughs harder when regret surfaces on your eyes while clearing your throat.
He recovers from his outburst of laughter at the same time you manage to soothe your voice back to normal. He’s expecting you to be embarrassed from the stunt you tried to pull, which you appear to be seeing as you’re covering your face with your palms. You don’t seem to be upset though because he can hear your muffled giggles.
You quickly remove your hands and face him. “I was sure I could do it, okay? You didn’t have to laugh that hard!” Despite the pout you show him, your eyes twinkle with levity as you hold his stare.
How the fuck you can you be so weird but still so pretty at the same time?
No wonder you have the rest of them wrapped around your pretty little finger. You just flash them that delightful smile of yours and you completely have them under your spell.
But not him, of course. Definitely not him.
Also, he tries to convince himself, he didn’t think you were pretty at all.
He’s just looking from the perspective of his teammates on why they adore you so much. Nothing more, nothing else.
To him, you’re still the irksome manager he knows you are. This set-up is just temporary. He’ll never forget how you really are - overbearing, cunning, and infuriating. This strangely charming attitude you’re showing him is just because of the temporary ceasefire between the both of you, and this easy, comfortable atmosphere is just born out of necessity. When this project is finished, you’ll be back to the real you. So he shouldn’t be wasting his time reading into whatever’s happening between you two.
“Should we continue watching?” you ask him lightheartedly as you hug your knees again, softly leaning your head against them.
The nerve of you to ask that. You’re the one who disrupted the videos, not him. He should be the one berating you to get back to the project instead of you pleasantly asking him to continue where you left off.
“You’re the one who interrupted the whole thing in the first place,” he spats rather than answering your question, wishing you’d retort with something stupid so he can go back loathing you silently.
Instead, you simper apologetically and mutter a timid, “My bad.”
Then you extend your arm to his laptop and rewind to where the video was before you distracted him with your audacious growling.
During the remainder of the videos, he glances every once in a while to check if you’re going to do something distracting again. Fortunately, (or unfortunately, he can’t tell anymore which is worse) you stay well-behaved and entirely focused on the documentary with your arms wrapped around your tucked legs tucked and your chin resting to your knee.
When the documentaries end, he pulls up the video he took with your phone from your crocodile farm trip. Compared to the produced output you’d just gone through, the amateur video he captured at the farm is evidently not as exciting to watch. The quality is not that great because his hand had been shaky while filming it. He remembered not looking at the screen of your phone while filming it because he had been looking at you.
Rather than noticing that aspect of the video, you comment about the audio. “I can’t hear anything from the breeding pen. I only hear my voice and Sara’s.”
He’s about to reason out that you’re talking non-stop but he immediately realizes that it’s not necessarily a bad thing because you were asking Sara questions related to the project at that time.
“I want to hear them growling,” you declare.
“I’m not sure they even were. This is an artificial environment for crocodiles. Also, we’re a bit far from them,” he explains.
You face scrunches up with disapproval. “Why didn’t you just zoom the camera in?”
His jaw drops from how appallingly dim-witted your question is. He’d think you were kidding but you look genuinely upset because you can’t hear the sounds you heard from the videos earlier.
First of all, just like he said, they might not even be making sounds at all. Secondly, your phone, despite being a good model, wouldn’t be able to miraculously capture sounds even if he zoomed it outrageously close to the reptiles. Lastly and most importantly, are you actually that dumb?
He doesn’t even know how to condense all his thoughts properly and convey how revolted he is from the amount of brainlessness you can put in one simple question that’s less than ten words.
Your eyes go wide when it finally hits you too.
“Oh God,” you mutter weakly as you put two palms to cover the lower half of your face.
You two share the same expression of disgust as you realize how stupid you sounded while you hold his gaze.
You press your lips together in a thin line then bust your gut out with an uproar laugh that fills your room. You tug the sleeve of his shirt as you look at him with glossy eyes.
“I’m a dunce,” you admit with trails of laughter still seeping from your voice.
“Glad to know I’m not the only one who thinks so,” he says with half-hearted insult as he’s still figuring out if he did something or is it your own stupidity that’s causing your outburst.
You bite your trembling lips in an attempt to fend off another laugh, but fails to do so when you clutch his arm tighter and another round of jovial laugh escapes from your mouth.
You try to form a phrase but it’s drowned out by your own cackles. Still, he catches on with what words you manage to utter.
You are laughing at yourself.
He always thought you liked making fun of others because you’re always simpering every time someone’s at your mercy -- those boys who relentlessly try to hit on you; any member of the team who gets flustered when you praise them; and him, especially him, who seems to be your personal favorite person to pick on.
Yet, he’s never seen you this elated before, with your face scrunched up as you go hysterical from your own silliness.
He can’t help but think that maybe he misunderstood you a little bit. You’re not actually a pompous bitch. You’re just a crackhead who finds joy in the littlest, most foolish things.
“I swear to God, Tsukishima. Our university is in ruin for making me a goddamn scholar.” You let go of his arm and sniffle while wiping your tears of joy.
When you look up to him, your face is glowing. Your cheeks are flushed, your eyes are gleaming at him effervescently, and your smile is not as annoying as it used to be.
Objectively speaking, it’s similar to your usual ones, except it’s also totally different. He can’t really fully grasp why but there’s something about it that distinguishes it from all the others he’s seen from you.
He must have been peering at you more than necessary because your smile dissolves gradually while your mirthful expression turns into a puzzled one.
You’ve been trying to ignore the thought, but Tsukishima is definitely acting weird today; weird because he’s not as mean as he usually is.
Well, duh. You do have some sort of agreement for him to tone it down. Still, you didn’t expect he’d do it this well. Even when he was laughing at you earlier, it wasn’t as demeaning as it should have been.
And to make you even more puzzled, right now, he’s just staring blankly at you.
Generally, Tsukishima’s empty glares at you are not really empty. They contain inhibited disdain which he has not failed to show you over the years you’ve been their manager. Even when he’s actually trying not to let it show, you still easily see through him.
But at this moment, you have no idea what’s going on in his head. His eyes are studying you quietly and you return his stare, trying to figure out what he could possibly be thinking.
You’re about to ask him what’s wrong but as soon as you open your mouth, a familiar glint surfaces on his face as his gaze drops on your lips.
If the latter parts of the previous meeting were awkward, this one goes beyond awkward.
There is an abrupt drop of weight that looms across the whole room, a weight so heavy that you find it difficult to breathe. The room is spacious enough for two, but you feel like it’s too cramped up all of a sudden.
It’s an all too familiar feeling that you did not anticipate would ever come back. In fact, it should not be back at all.
It is as exciting as it is terrifying when you realize: you want to kiss him.
You previously justified your actions as something sort of a ‘one time madness’ and. until now, you were sure it was just that. It was a whim brought by his sudden closeness fueled by the atmosphere of the club at the time.
You were wrong.
Even at this dull, academic setting with him barely even touching you, you itch to feel him close. You want to relive the feeling of his body pressed against yours and his lips latched fervidly onto yours.
Damn it. He should stop staring at you like he wants the same thing. It’s tempting you even more to give in to the urge even though you know you’ll regret it later.
But no, you really can’t. Once was enough. Twice will be a different story.
You had assured him and yourself that it wouldn’t happen again. If you cross that line now, you’re going to have to admit the irrevocable fact that you’re attracted to him.
You let out a shaky breath as you avert your gaze from his.
You’re about to replay the video when you hear a sudden thud on the floor. You look back at him with worry only to see his hand slammed against the floor as he swiftly lunges forward to close the gap between you and him.
His free hand goes to your chin and tilts it up as he crashes his lips on yours.
It’s just as you remember - calm yet impassioned, successfully sweeping away any incertitude you had about kissing him. Your mind is only filled with how good he feels as he impatiently drags his hand to your waist and tugs you closer.
You wrap an arm around his neck to completely eliminate whatever space is left between your bodies. You grasp the back of his head as you return his kiss with the same ardor, your mouths naturally cascading against one another with a rhythm you two can perfectly understand and follow without any words needed.
When he sneaks his tongue in, you begin to forget what he is to you outside the confines of this room as you helplessly moan into his mouth.
You can tell he’s not doing so well either with how tight he’s grasping the small of your back as the intensity of the kiss grows with each ticking second.
“Tsukishima,” you puff heavily as you withdraw away from him with half-lidded eyes, the feel of his lips still lingering on yours.
You hope that the soft call of his name will be the voice of reason for him to stop kissing you. He needs to stop for you’re totally powerless to do it yourself. He needs to stop before it escalates into something else, something more.
Thankfully, he does stop.
He takes a deep breath as his eyes travel from your lips up to your eyes, meeting your gaze to study the entirety of your features.
He thought you were going to ask him to stop, hence the conflicted tone of your voice when you said his name. But the look on your face tells him otherwise.
You like this as much as he does. He didn’t want to admit it last time, but fucking hell. You really do make a complete mess of his rational thinking with how good you taste, how your determined eyes mellow down within his embrace, and how you yield right on the first touch of his lips.
He knows he should stop. It’s the perfect chance to do so. It shouldn’t matter how soft and pliant you are when pressed against him. It shouldn’t matter that you look like you want him to continue wherever this leads to.
But it does. He doesn’t want to stop, and he knows neither do you.
He grits his teeth in annoyance as he hisses at you, “Shut up.”
Just like he did a while ago, he easily covers the tiny distance between your lips. He gets a little more greedy this time and slides his hand underneath your shirt, experimenting with what he can do to earn him another whimper from you. He’d like to revel on the sound of your meekness once again.
It didn’t really take much. At the first contact of his palm on the bare skin of your waist, you instantly give him what he wants.
Your soft moan fills his ears that he doesn’t hear the sudden clack of the door.
“Y/n, did you do our - oh!”
You violently tug his head past the curve of your shoulder, making him take out his hand from your shirt and ram it against the floor to support himself.
“Couldn’t you knock?” you ask breathlessly to whoever’s on the door.
He tries to free himself from you but judging from how firm your grip is on his head, it doesn’t look like you want him to move from his current position. It doesn’t help that you’re almost choking him from how hard you’re pressing his neck against your collar bone.
“I can’t breathe!” he whispers infuriatingly, but you don’t answer. You only clutch on his hair tighter.
“My bad, dude. I didn’t know you got yourself a boyfriend,” your friend says defensively.
Out of all the possible times she could choose to come over, it had to be when you and Tsukishima were making out. You’re a tiny bit grateful for being stopped when neither of you wanted to, but more embarrassed that it was because your friend walked in on the scene.
“Can you come back later?” you ask almost nervously, concerned that she might recognize that it’s Tsukishima leaning against you. She knows him because they used to have classes together last semester.
Your friend just shrugs it off and is about to close the door when her eyes catch Tsukishima’s jacket. Her eyes widen in shock when she sees the logo of the Sendai Frogs.
“Holy shit! Are you dating one of your players?” She looks back at you incredulously.
“Get out!” you yell out from agitation.
She flinches from the sudden raise of your voice but is quick to understand that you need the privacy right now. “Okay, okay. I got it,” she mutters apologetically and whispers, “Sorry,” before she finally shuts the door.
You let out a sigh of relief when she leaves without figuring out that it was Tsukishima. As for him, he tears your hand away and faces you with fury seeping from his orbs.
“Were you trying to kill me?!”
You dismiss his anger and regard him impassively. “Then would you have preferred your face being seen?”
“So what? It’s not like she knows me,” he leans forward towards you a bit to emphasize his point with the same angry tone.
With his face too close for comfort, you suddenly become aware of the fact that you’re still trapped between the arms planted on both sides of you.
“Um, can you back off for a bit?” You turn away tensely, worried that you might want an encore of what your friend interrupted if you continue staring at him from this distance.
“Huh?” He sounds like he has no idea what you’re talking about so you place both hands on his chest to softly push him away.
He must have realized it then because he lifts himself off of you and sits back to upright.
You try to settle down but to no avail. Your heart is still beating abnormally, despite being now rid of your nosy friend and his dangerous proximity. The deafening silence rings in your ears and the air feels heavy again, your mind drifting dangerously back to the earlier events.
“This is your fault,” Tsukishima mumbles with a frown.
You gasp at his audacity. “Excuse me? You’re the one who kissed me!”
“Because you ...” he trails off before he could say what was going on in his head: because you looked so damn fascinating that he caved to his want for a repeat of that night. So it really is your fault. If you hadn’t kissed him back then, he wouldn’t have found out how exquisite it feels to have you succumb to him. Then, he wouldn’t have been tempted to kiss you at all.
Shit. He sounds stupid, justifying his own reckless behavior.
He looks down at your waist which he was just touching. If your friend hadn’t barged in, how far will you two have gone?
He shudders at the thought. No. There was absolutely no fucking way you two would’ve done that. He won’t be able to stomach it if that happens. You might have been tolerable today, but that doesn’t mean he can stand the idea of going beyond making out with you.
Did he just admit to himself that he doesn’t mind kissing you?
“Because I what?” you ask him with an addled look.
“Nothing,” he answers as he starts fixing his stuff.
“Hey, what’re you doing? We still need to do a comparison write-up for the videos,” you say, watching him pack up.
“Let’s just pick up where we left off when we meet again.” He can’t be around you any longer today. You’re causing too much havoc to his usually sensible mindspace.
“Aren’t we going to talk about what just happened?”
Not bothering to heed your question, he continues what he’s doing. After he puts the only remaining binder he has out back in his bag, he faces you.
“No,” is his answer before he slings his bag over his shoulder and leaves your room.
--
Damn that Tsukishima.
As if you don’t have enough on your plate already, he adds another massive one on the pile. You wish you can just disregard it, push it at the back of your head like you did the first time. But you can’t.
You were supposed to study the Lion’s new line, but you just end up zoning out every five minutes as the scene replays in your head. You even transferred to the lobby even though you hated working there just for a change of pace.
It turned out useless as people you know kept on stopping by for small chats. You couldn’t focus on the game footages which needs your full concentration to analyze.
So there you are, restless and distraught, as you enter the gym with no printed output because you hadn’t accomplished anything at all.
Not that they need it today but you just generally like to have them ready in advance. You know your team. Almost everyone has their day jobs or are students like you. You don’t want to spring a hell load of reading material on them days away from the game.
On top of that, you’re lagging behind the schedule you set for your project with the Tsukishima. No thanks to him for walking out the past two meetings.
“Do you have the profile of the Lions ready?” Coach Mira asks first thing when you get to her side.
Great. Just great. You were hoping no one brings it up, but of course Coach has to. You did tell her you’d have it prepared by today.
“Sorry, Coach. I’ll have them ready by next training,” you quickly compromise for your setback.
She swiftly turns to you with concern. “Are you sick?”
“Oh, no. I’m totally fine, Coach. Just had something to do last night,” you lie despite the guilt in your gut. The last time you were late with the team reports was when you became extremely sick. This time it’s because of some blonde guy that’s somewhere across the gym.
She breathes a relieved sigh. “Thank God. I don’t really mind them being not as early as usual. I just don’t want our trusted manager getting sick.”
Her small compliment makes you feel a bit better. “Thanks, Coach.” You give her a faint smile.
“Alright, can you toss to the spikers?”
You nod and quickly turn around, only to see the cause of your delayed work blocking your path. Typically, you’d say something but you’re too bothered with what happened that you just move sideways to avoid him. However, he moves in the same direction you do. So you go the opposite way again, only for him to follow.
At this point, you couldn’t suppress the dry laugh that comes from how spectacularly ironic the scene is.
You look up to him. “Tsukishima,” you call out as you give him that too sweet of a grin he hates so much. “I’d appreciate it if you use those blocking skills on the court instead of me, hmm?”
This is the you Tsukishima is very much aware of - detestable to the core. Yet, on top of his annoyance is relief. It’s reassuring to see that you’re still very much the manager he knows you are, not the somehow tolerable person he made out with last time.
So instead of answering, he does the usual and turns deaf ears at you. While you’re sneering at him, he moves further to the side and successfully gets past you.
He’d tell you about his fix for the current dilemma you two are having, but with Coach within earshot, he’d rather not. He doesn’t want anyone, especially the team, knowing that you’re spending some time alone with him, let alone getting physical with him. He’ll never hear the end of it from them, so he’ll just text you later.
--
You can’t believe Tsukishima actually suggested doing the project at their home. You don’t think he’s the kind of person who invites classmates to their house just because of school work. It is hard to imagine him introducing people to whoever he’s living with, let alone you.
Maybe they’re gone for the day. That’s why he invited you over.
You ring the doorbell of the address he gave you. Quite soon enough, another tall blonde person opens the door. He must be another Tsukishima - a nice Tsukishima with a pleasant face that looks nothing like the permanent nonchalance plastered on the face of your middle blocker.
“Yes?” the pleasant Tsukishima asks.
You greet him with a warm smile. When you ask for the other Tsukishima you’re going to work with, his face noticeably lights up. “You’re looking for Kei?” he asks softly but with audible excitement.
“Um, yeah. He asked me to come.” You’re very curious as to why he looks so pleased, but it’d be rude to ask him upfront when you just met him.
Before the guy in front of you can even answer, you already hear the voice of the one you’re looking for.
“Let her in, Nii-chan.”
Nii-chan? Oh my God. That’s the cutest thing ever! You didn’t think Tsukki’s the kind of guy to address his older sibling like that.
“I’m Akiteru by the way,” the older Tsukishima introduces himself as he opens the door for you.
“Y/n. here,” you respond delightfully then give him a gracious bow before entering.
As you remove your shoes upon stepping inside, you already see Tsukki seated in the living room with his stuff set up. You don’t know if he’s started working on the project but he’s already focused on his laptop.
You would've made yourself feel at home, but this is not solely his place. You don’t want to be impolite.
“You can go join him, Y/n. I’ll go to my room now,” Akiteru kindly tells you and turns around.
“Wait,” you blurt out.
He faces your way again. “Yeah?”
“Can I call you Aki-san? I don’t want to confuse you when I say ‘Tsukishima.’”
He gently holds both your hands and pulls them up as he clasps them together with his.
“You can call me Aki-nii-chan if you want,” he says with a hopeful look on his face. You can tell he’s got the completely wrong idea about you and Tsukishima, which confirms your earlier assumption.
Yet instead of being uncomfortable, you find yourself amused. Tsukishima must have never brought a girl home before, thus the excitement and false assumption from Akiteru.
“I think I like Aki-san better,” you respond respectfully, hoping that you don’t have to spell it out for him.
“Stop it. She’s just a classmate,” you hear Tsukishima say.
Akiteru lets go of your hand and laughs apologetically. “Sorry about that. I’ll leave you two alone now.” He smiles briefly at you and heads upstairs.
You walk towards Tsukishima and sit beside him. “What were you thinking inviting me over?” you instantly ask. You know he must already be aware of the possibility that his relatives would very likely assume things, which was just proven true by Akiteru.
“As much I despise the idea of having you here, this is better than being in your place,” he says with his attention still on his laptop.
“How so?” You glance at his laptop and see that he’s working on a different subject than the one you have together. When notices it, he closes the tabs and faces you.
“We’re not completely alone here. We won’t get unwelcome urges.”
Oh dear Lord. So that’s what this is about. He thinks that being alone with you is the cause of it.
“I hate to remind you this, Tsukishima, but the first time we kissed was in the middle of a club packed with people. It’s not the place that’s the issue,” you emphasize the last sentence.
Before you went there, you decided to just accept the fact that you and Tsukishima have this uncanny attraction towards each other. The last meeting’s events were proof of that. Instead of getting all worked up trying to deny it or disregard it as something else, you just acknowledge it for what it really is.
“Then what is?” Unlike you, he seems to entirely shut out the disturbing conclusion you came up with. That’s why he decided to meet here instead of your place despite whatever his family might think.
Too bad for him though, you’re about to break the news to him.
“We’re attracted to each other,” you declare without any reluctance.
“No,” he quickly rejects the notion. “I don’t care what you feel about me, but I am not in any way attracted to you,” he says every word with solid conviction that you’re not sure if it’s meant to convince you or himself.
“Right. Why did you kiss me last time then?” you counter.
“Whatever the reason is, that doesn’t mean I’m attracted to you. I tolerate you when we’re not in the gym. That’s the extent of what I feel for you.”
You sigh as you rub your face with your palms. “Why do you have to be such a fucking tsundere, Tsukki? I’m doing this for the both of us.”
His face contorts to one that’s filled with utter displeasure. “How the hell is this beneficial for us?”
“Hear me out and think about it before you say ‘no’ again,” you begin. “I think we should just give in to this weird thing going on between us.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
You’re starting to get annoyed at this point. His denial of the situation is making him stupid. Does he think this is easy for you? You don’t want this either. But what can you do? The thick, unmistakable attraction is there.
For fuck’s sake, do you really have to spoonfeed it to him?
“Tsukishima Kei,” you let out one heavy puff before you say it. “You’re allowed to kiss me when it’s just the two of us,” you announce.
You’ve never felt more offended than when he looks utterly disgusted at your proposal.
“Your head’s way too big from all the moronic ideas you're stuffing in it. Just because I initiated it last time doesn’t mean I want to do it again,” he utters each word with unrepressed contempt that makes you feel humiliated for suggesting such a thing.
You’re not a sensitive person. You can easily laugh off whatever anyone throws your way. Especially with Tsukishima since you know much he dislikes you. But that one - that one hurt.
You shake your head and start taking out your stuff. “You’re right. It was a moronic idea. So forget I even suggested it,” you say while setting up your laptop on the table.
You can’t stand the repugnant look on his face so you keep your eyes in front of you even if your laptop is still booting up.
“Let’s just do what we should be doing. Sorry, I wasted our time with my stupidity.” You don’t want to, but now you’re starting to really feel sorry for yourself.
It shouldn’t be new or surprising to you. This is Tsukishima. His personality is terrible as hell. Yet, you wouldn’t mind a few kisses from him every now and then. You bared yourself just now by admitting that.
Tsukishima must be so pleased you finally shut up because you don’t hear anything from him. You’re thankful for it because you don’t want to talk either.
Instead of dwelling on self-loathing, you distract yourself by giving your all to the project at hand. You’re already behind schedule so all the more reason to be efficient.
No one speaks while you completely lose yourself on your tasks for the day. You don't know how long you’ve been going at it but before you even know it, you’re almost done with your share of work for the day.
You just need Tsukishima’s output to finish yours.
With your head occupied with the amount of work you need to get done, you easily got over the tiny pang you felt earlier. You turn to Tsukishima and ask him for his write up.
He frowns at your request. “You’re done already?”
You nod. “Just need your thingy then I can go home.”
He checks your laptop to see for himself and scowls when he confirms that you really are almost done.
“Give me 30 minutes,” he says as he begins rushing his own work.
“Don’t rush it, Tsukishima. I can do other stuff while I wait for you. Also, if you don’t mind. Do you have coffee?” You can feel the exhaustion begin to set in your body. For the past four nights, you’ve been getting three to fours of sleep only.
As the only manager of the Frogs, you constantly have to move around the gym to help them out. But unlike the players, your real work is outside the gym - sorting paperwork, gathering information about other teams, coordinating practice matches, and so on. On top of that, you have your academic subjects to deal with.
You’re honestly used to it. But being a graduating student this semester, things are tougher for you. Not to mention the shit with Tsukishima, which has been bothering you for the past few nights.
Well, at least that one’s been dealt with already.
You must have spaced out because you did not notice Tsukishima leave, and are surprised when he’s suddenly beside you with a cup of coffee already at hand.
“Did you put sugar?” You might have sounded a bit demanding, but you’re too tired to be polite.
“No. Did you want some?” he asks back.
You get the mug and take that first sip of coffee that wakes up your almost dead body. “No, this is perfect,” you comment with a weary smile as you replace the current doc file open with the draft of the Lions’ profile you’ve been working on.
Tsukishima can’t help but look at you once in a while even though he needs to finish already so you can finalize yours as well.
You’re completely immersed in what you’re doing, taking the cup of coffee to your mouth every now and then without even taking your eyes off your screen.
He thought you’re getting restless but the quickening clack of your keyboard is proving otherwise. In fact, it’s becoming distracting. He’s about to put his headphones on so he can concentrate on his own task when he hears the abrupt slowing down of your typing. What’s alarming is he starts hearing you take excruciatingly deep breaths that wavers when you let them out.
One look at you and he knows that you’re not okay. You’re blinking way too fast and the corners of your mouth are almost drooping. Those and your uneven breathing is enough to cause him to worry.
He grabs your shoulder and forces you to look at him. “Oy, what’s wrong with you?”
You look at him with no clue as to what he’s talking about. “Hmm?”
The lack of life in your orbs is very concerning. It’s nothing compared to how you looked like when you were dead beat on the way home from the crocodile farm.
“Are you having hard time breathing?”
“Oh, that,” you let out a laugh that seems to contain the last strand of energy you have. “I’m just palpitating. Sorry if it’s distracting. You should go put your headphones on,” you say with a dead tone as you start picking up the pace again on what you’re doing.
Just palpitating? Jesus Christ.
He quickly takes away your coffee and slides it to his side of the table. It immediately catches your attention, your eyes absent-mindedly following the cup. “Hey, that’s my coffee. I need that,” you weakly complain.
“You need to rest,” he contradicts you.
“I don’t need rest. I need to finish this and for me to finish this, I need,” you involuntarily inhale sharply and release it heavily before you complete your sentence, “that coffee.”
He checks your laptop and finds a comprehensive report on the updated line up of the Hiashi Automotive Lions. For someone who looks like she’s about to faint, it’s consistent with the other reports you’ve given the team previously - organized and well done.
“You’re almost done here. Go take a nap.”
“Why would I take a nap if I’m almost done?” Despite the exhaustion evident in your whole being, you’re still determined to continue working.
“You look like you’re about to pass out and I don’t want to take care of you when you do. So take a fucking nap on the couch,” he snaps. He didn’t mean to sound that harsh but it’s really getting on his nerves how you’re almost killing yourself with overworking.
You stare at him vacantly for a short while but do what he said. You drag yourself towards the couch and lazily lie yourself on it.
You cross your arms and rest them on the cushioned surface. Then, you snuggle your head on top of your arms as you wiggle your legs to a comfortable position.
“You can use the pillows” he informs you.
“I’m fine,” you mutter with your eyes already shut.
As much as he wants to get things done as fast as he can, your uneven heaving is a cause of concern. He keeps glancing behind him to check if you’re okay.
If he knew you’d be like this, he wouldn’t have given you the damn coffee.
He’s only able to start focusing on the project when your breathing becomes steady. Still, it took him more than 30 minutes to finish. He looks over to where you are again and calls out your name. However, you don’t even move an inch.
He walks towards the couch and sits at the unoccupied space by your waist. From this distance, he can see that your features are a bit more relaxed now even with just less than an hour of sleep.
He’s certain that you’ve been overworking yourself. It’s only because of your stubbornness that you were able to pull off the things you accomplished tonight.
He’d let you rest a bit more longer but it’s going to get too late for you to go home on your own if he does. So he places a hand on your arms and gently shakes it.
“Mmmmm,” you hum on the arm you’re leaning at before slowly opening your eyes. With heavy lids, you plant your hand on the cushion and forcefully prop yourself up. Yet when you manage to sit up, you rest your head on your shoulder and close your eyes again.
“2 minutes,” you mumble sleepily.
He watches you fight the drowsiness that’s completely settled in. Instead of complaining when you still haven’t snapped out of it, he moves to sit beside you. He puts a gentle hand on the side of your head and softly tugs you to lean on his shoulder.
The moment your temple touches his shoulder, you bolt right up. His unexpected action has sucked the sleepiness out of you for a moment as you begin to put your guard up.
“I’m up. I’m up,” you announce in an alert manner as you scoot away from him. You frantically rub your eyes to get them to open.
So he isn’t imagining it: what he said a while ago got to you. Else, you wouldn’t have moved away like you’re allergic to his touch. You had been unusually quiet after he lashed out at you, but can you blame him for doing so? You’re basically saying that it’s okay to make out when it’s just you two. It’s fucking ridiculous. You should be thinking about how to avoid the situation from happening again, not succumb to it.
So why does he feel like a dick for calling you a moron? And why is he upset now that you’re actually doing what he wants you to do? Also, how the fuck are you so charming even when you’re half asleep before him?
“Are you done with yer stuff?” you slur as you crack your neck side to side.
“Yeah. But you should go home already.”
You blink several times as you check the wall clock across the room for the time. “Okay. Just e-mail it to me so I can do it before our next meeting.”
“No. Focus on your other shit then continue it when we meet next time,” he sternly says.
“We’re already behind schedule, Tsukishima. Just send it to me,” you insist despite how faint your voice is.
“I said no.” He doesn’t dislike you enough to make you overwork yourself to death.
You close your eyes again and shake your head in surrender. “Fine. I’m too tired to argue further.”
Just when you’re about to stand up, he grabs your arm to stop you. Your eyes open up as you peer at him with confusion.
“I didn’t mean what I said earlier,” he utters with his best attempt to sound unbothered.
Your brows crumple up from his statement that came out of nowhere. He just hopes that your fatigued self figures out what he’s referring to because he doesn’t want to elaborate on it.
Sure enough, a palpable glint of understanding shows in your face when your mouth opens to form a silent “ah.”
“That, huh?” You respond just as vaguely as he had been. “Don’t worry about it,” you come up with a thrifty smile as you return your gaze to him.
“You were right anyways. It is a moronic idea. I just thought that maybe if we just let it ride out, it’ll pass. But meh. I just misread it and thought you enjoyed it as much as I do,” you explain in a nonchalant manner despite the confession that came along with it in the end.
Then, you giggle disorientedly. “You can rest easy now, Tsukishima. These disgusting lips of mine won’t come anywhere near you again, mkay?”
He should be relieved, rejoicing even, that he’s pushed you away enough to keep your distance from him.
Yet what you said is gnawing at him for he didn’t say that. He never said your lips are disgusting.
Admittedly, he regrets kissing you on both occasions that it happened, but he’s never thought of it as disgusting.
Infuriating, yes, but not disgusting.
“I’ll go fix my stuff now,” you say.
“They’re not disgusting,” he utters before you get off the couch.
You look at him with vacant eyes that have begun to droop heavily again as a yawn comes out of you. You cover your mouth with your hands then lazily drop them to your lap afterwards.
You open your eyes and try to focus your sight again.
“Sorry, I conked out for like three seconds. Did you say something?”
On a regular day, he’d think that you’re messing with him so he’ll repeat what he said. But the exhaustion still evident on your face convinces him that you really didn’t hear what he said.
“Yeah,” he responds flatly before he leans closer to your face. He tilts his head a bit to the side and gently captures the warm softness of your lips.
The kiss lacks the heated intensity the previous two had. It is just one tender nip where he lingers just a tad bit longer to savor the taste of coffee mixed with your own.
He slowly withdraws from you but remains only an inch away that he still feels your breath mingling with his.
“Your lips aren’t disgusting,” he repeats for you to hear this time.
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a holiday drabble smut w chanyeol would be appreciated cause a bitch misses him 😔 (it’s me, i’m bitch)
Me too though 😔💔
ᴄᴏᴏᴋɪᴇs
Pairings: chanyeol x reader
Genre: smut, fluff
Warnings: some d/s themes, its pretty soft and cute because its Christmas, unprotected sex, y/ns an innocent bitch, maybe a small😳🤏corruption kink
This was longer than I planned to write-
"Chanyeol the cookies!"
"cHaNyEoL tHe cOokiEs!" Your boyfriend mocked before you shoved your elbow in his side, making him laugh and stumble away from you.
"I'm serious," you sounded like you were lying because you were laughing along with him, "You're gonna make them too liquidy if you put too much milk."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." He placed the cup of milk down on the table next to the bowl of mix, "Its not like you wouldn't be able to fix it anyway." Chanyeol shrugged, suddenly moving behind you to give you a back hug, but also leaning almost all of his weight on top of you too.
"Yeah but they have to be good for Santa...and my parents, but mostly for Santa!"
Chanyeol lifted his head off your shoulders and raised a brow, even though you couldn't see it, "Santa? What are you twelve?"
You stopped rolling the dough and froze, "Wha- yes Santa! Who do you take me for!? And why are you on me im trying to bake!??"
"Cuz I'm bored, for one, and two," he paused, did he really wanna break your heart and tell you the truth or did he want to be a good boyfriend and go with it? "Santa isn- is gonna love these cookies even if they turn out bad!" Chanyeol changed his mind and somehow made himself more believable when you smiled, jumping up a bit, but most importantly rubbing against him.
"Really!? Yayy~ Now hurry up and help, its almost 9pm!" You went back to rolling, but chanyeol didn't move, he was too focused on the fact that you were unaware of your ass grinding against his now growing member. Chanyeol really just wanted to bend you over the counter since you made him hard during a sweet bonding time, he wanted to ruin your innocence so bad. "Chanyeol."
He shook his head, not realizing you were staring straight at him, "Huh? What?"
"I said are you okay, you haven't even done what I asked and were staring off into space." You stared at the older man, wondering why he looked suddenly uncomfortable and red.
"I-im fine but...I need help with something." He blurted out, cursing himself for saying it so quick.
"Whatever it is, can't you wait till after? I need to put the cookies in." You looked back at the cookies, still slightly brushing against his boner without realizing and bent down to open the oven. He moved out of your way but he definitely felt your ass against his boner. Chanyeol was trying to hold it in, but it was becoming too much.
How could someone be so innocent? Chanyeol wondered to himself.
Chanyeol placed his hands on your hips when you stood back up, you thought he was just being his regular loving self so it didn't affect you in any way until you felt chanyeol kiss up and down your neck.
"What now?" You groaned, trying to brush him away but chanyeol grabbed your chin softly making you tilt your head the other way. "C-Chanyeol?"
"You trust me right?" He whispered waiting for a small nod which you gave him, "Good because I really need you right now, babe."
"B-but the cookies-"
"They're fine." He mumbled against your neck. You gripped the counter, trying to wrap your head around your boyfriends sudden horniness. "You're so cute y/n." Chanyeols lifted your shirt enough to explore your body with his curious hands, groping your breasts softly just to hear your small whimpers.
"C-can you please j-just..." you let your voice fall, too shy to tell your own boyfriend what you wanted. Its not like you haven't done this with him, but your so inexperienced unlike him.
"Can I just what? You have to talk to me pretty girl." You blushed, ignoring the way chanyeol easily slid off your Christmas pajama pants along with your shirt and underwear in a heartbeat.
"I want you to...f-fuck me?" Chanyeol lifted you up to seat you on another counter that didn't have the cookies on it, before raising your brow at your unsure self.
"Are you sure?" You quickly nodded, "Don't nod, speak."
A frown settled on your face, you didn't understand why you had to open your mouth when you already gave consent, "Yes, please."
Chanyeol was set and took his aching hard cock out, lining himself at your wet entrance before pushing himself in. "Fuck.., you're so tight, princess." He grunted, throwing his head back as he slowly pushed all the way in and started thrusting.
"Feels...s-so good." You moaned, face burning from how much you really enjoyed it.
Your boyfriends hips moved like a piston, fucking you fast and deep as you both moaned at the feeling. You loved how dirty it felt to be fucked right in the kitchen where anyone could walk in. It made you excited.
Chanyeol dug his nails in your legs, your nails scratching his back as he pounded into you. Each thrust was brushing your cervix ever so softly and you couldn't help but whine. It was intense for someone so innocent like you, but you knew once this all ended, it would be euphoric.
"Pl-please, i-im so full." You mumbled and bit into Chanyeols neck to keep yourself from screaming in pleasure, he hissed when your teeth sunk into his skin though it wasn't enough to draw blood.
"You love my cock, right princess?" Chanyeol went faster, if possible, and you hummed against his neck, but he took you by the hair and pulled you off him, "i wanna hear you say it."
You whined and shook your head, "i-i cant! It's em-embarassing.."
"Its only me, nothing to be shy about." He slowed his hips, barely moving at this point only now wanting hear you speak.
"N-no wait keep going please!" The legs around his waist tried pushing him back in but he stood his ground, still waiting.
"Say it, and then I'll make you cum all over my cock after."
Heat rose to your cheeks and you huffed, "....I l-love your c-cock.." this made him smile and coo at your cuteness. Chanyeol began again, gripping your hips and pushing in and out bringing you closer and closer to the edge. There wasn't a time where you weren't moaning with him, he was so good at pleasing you.
"You're such a good girl for me." He captured you lips in a heated kiss, biting your lowered lip every chance he got before pushing his tongue into your mouth. It was sloppy and so were his thrusts. That's how you knew he was close and you wanted to say something but he seemed to read your mind, "Cum for me, princess."
You didn't need to be told twice. You easily came around his length, blushing and squirming on the counter as your bliss slowly faded and Chanyeol was left, pulling out and finishing himself. He quickly came on your stomach, loving the way it dripped down you sweaty skin.
"So cute." He pinched your flushed cheeks. "But, do you smell burning?"
Your eyes widened before realizing you forgot the cookies in the oven, "Th-the cookies," you lifted a small shaky finger at the direction of the cookies.
Chanyeol, after lifting his boxers up, rushed to the oven. Turning it off, he took the now burnt cookies out, "Good thing we have more dough.."
"But those were for Santa." You cried.
"God, you're so innocent y/n."
Your head fell down to the mess on your stomach, still embarrassed yet not as much as before, "I'm not that innocent."
"You believe in Santa."
"What? Are you saying he isn't real?"
Chanyeol said nothing except press his lips into a small line.
"What!?"
Your heart may have been crushed and you may have felt like crying before your boyfriend spoke, "Merry Christmas!"
#exo#exo smut#exo fluff#exo angst#exo chanyeol#park chanyeol#park chanyeol smut#chanyeol smut#exo scenarios#exo x reader#ask#anon
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All I Want For Christmas - Kuroo x Reader
Summary: You and VP!Kuroo go to a holiday party. (2.1k words)
Warnings: quite nsfw, fem!reader
A/N: After I deleted the post I lost the original ask lmfaooo, anyway I hope you see this anon <33. Smut is closer to the end, but it’s there I promise.
---
When you’d finally agreed after numerous appeals of various types and intensities to date Kuroo seriously and most importantly to him, openly, you hadn’t considered something very crucial - being his steady partner would mean accompanying him to formal events.
Company events were one thing. At this point, everyone in your office was aware that there was something going on between you and the vice president, so the rumor mill had already had its fun with the two of you and the jokes and teasing comments had long gotten stale. Anything else they threw at you at happy hour you could handle expertly, especially with the help of a couple drinks.
It hadn’t occurred to you that as a company executive, Kuroo would be attending bigger events with fancier people, so when he asked you to be his plus one to a networking holiday party outside of the company, you hadn’t asked too many questions before agreeing. To your defense, you were still laying on top of him when he’d asked, your thoughts as pliable as you had been for him just a few moments earlier.
Scheming as usual.
So now to your misfortune, you fidgeted uncomfortably while seated next to your boyfriend in a company car and for once, Kuroo wasn’t teasing you. Instead, he watched you carefully before placing a comforting hand on your left knee as you fought with the hem of your considerably short dress.
He gave you a sympathetic look before squeezing softly.
“It’ll be fine. Don’t be nervous.”
You frowned. How could you not be nervous? He was taking you to the Japanese Volleyball Association’s Semi-Annual Promotional Party, and all you could think of was every possible way you could embarrass him or embarrass yourself.
The fact that Kuroo actually seemed to feel bad for you only heightened your anxiety, but you tried to focus on his hand gripping yours tightly as you walked past media reporters stalking the outside of the building so that you didn’t lose him in the swathes of people who dealt either with big business, sports or both.
The venue was expansive and heavily yet tastefully decorated in red and white and green and so many lights, in keeping with a Christmas theme; it was enough to make your jaw drop just slightly in awe. However, there was little time to soak in the ambiance and music as Kuroo whisked you through the venue to speak to potential clients, the real purpose of this event.
Despite the fact that Kuroo kept you close, it was easy to feel small as people schmoozed amongst each other, and it was more than once or twice that you caught a few glances, some curious, others critical, in your direction. Again you wondered if your makeup was too light or too heavy, if your dress was tasteful or if the discomfort you were feeling could be read all over your face.
Kuroo on the other hand was in his element, working the room smoothly and effortlessly, and in that moment you realized how easily he blended in but still stood out, his laugh distinct and gestures casual and yet room-commanding. Soon you wondered why exactly he was interested in you when it was clear you didn’t exactly fit the glamorous scene around you.
But it would only be a couple more hours, you could bear it.
You broke free from him while he was engaged with a client and found a table at which to stand and wait for time to pass. Sipping quietly on red wine, you focused on Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas is You, humming as you detached from the scene around you. You sent a couple of texts to friends, but as it often was at times like this, no one seemed to be available.
You let out a sigh of defeat, leaning forward to rest on your elbows, and that’s when you noticed in your peripheral vision that someone had appeared to stand right beside you.
You glanced over in surprise.
“Oh, Kenma?”
Kenma offered you a small smile and leaned in the same position beside you, typing out a couple messages on his phone before he addressed you properly.
“Kuroo brought you along, I’m surprised,” he added, catlike brown eyes focused on you now.
While you’d interacted rarely with Kenma over the past months that you’d been dating Kuroo, you were acquainted enough with his much more introverted friend, often blunt but never really intentionally rude. But somehow this comment grated on your nerves, and you took a larger gulp of your wine.
You said nothing for the next few moments, and you could hear Kenma beside you again tip-tapping quietly on his cell phone.
“If it helps, I don’t want to be here either,” he finally added.
You looked back at him to raise an eyebrow and he offered a small smile before looking back at his phone.
“I’m supposed to be networking for my company but I’m not very good at it, so he just gets the clients for me and calls me over to secure the deal,” he elaborated. When you peered over, you realized he was in the middle of a mobile game at the very moment.
Maybe he was more out of place than you were, and somehow that was reassuring.
“What game is that?” You asked, poking at your small plate of hors d’oeuvres.
While he explained his game to you with muted excitement and you looked at his screen with interest, Kuroo glanced over to see you finally looking something other than stressed and smiled. He would wrap up quickly with business and then all his attention would be on you.
Kenma, the good friend he was, was returning his kindnesses as usual.
…
“May I have this dance?”
Minutes later, Kuroo had walked over to your table, smiling at you both and extending an arm out. You had considered how satisfied you would feel being a brat and saying no, you’d rather spend the rest of the evening talking to Kenma, but instead you acquiesced.
He was only doing his job and you wanted to be supportive. That was part of what it meant to date seriously, wasn’t it? Being slightly out of your comfort zone for your partner’s sake?
Something like that.
Now that you swayed back and forth under a large chandelier, you could tell he was apologetic by the way his hand caressed the back of your head. Maybe you were a little too close for a cocktail party but it felt nice to feel his warmth and you weren’t fond of all these people anyway.
“You okay, kitten?”
You nodded.
“You’re usually so feisty at work so I didn’t think hard enough about you feeling uncomfortable with all these stuffy business people.”
To that you let out a soft laugh. “Okay but you rarely think.”
He smirked then kissed the top of your head. “Maybe I got too excited by the prospect of having the prettiest girl in the room on my arm.”
You slapped his chest playfully once before resting your head on his chest again. Two paces later, he rested his chin above your head.
“We can take it slower if you’d like. If you want to stay more private, I mean. You’ve been generous to me so far after all.”
Your pace slowed ever so slightly as you looked up at him confused. “What do you mean?”
“Christmas came early for me, since you’re here in my arms.”
---
About an hour later, now that the two of you were back in the privacy of Kuroo’s penthouse apartment, he finally had the time to unwrap his present. He had been endlessly patient as you teased him through the agonizing ride home, your hands sneaking beneath his waistband and fondling his privates while hidden by the partition, but you were now in his domain.
Before the door slammed completely shut, you’d both gone from poised to savage - he drew your dress up over your shoulders by that oh-so-annoying hem and tossed it aside, and you’d just as quickly all but yanked his bowtie off as you removed it.
“Careful, these clothes are expensive,” he teased, but he was as merciless with the way he tore off your panties and hoisted you up so that your legs wrapped around his waist.
“And?”
And his lips crashed to yours, and you tried hastily to undo the buttons of his shirt while accepting his tongue in your mouth.
Carrying you to his bed while making out was a coordinated feat for someone whose pants were undone and now precariously sinking to his ankles, but Kuroo was light on his feet. When he lowered you onto the bed, you could see the outline of his hard cock forming a tent through the clothing and you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh.
“Relax, you’re like a kid on Christmas morning,” you teased and he pouted, but you leaned forward and freed him, going the extra mile to take his cockhead in your mouth.
He let out a soft moan, his hand immediately reaching for your hair, and you took more inches of him in your mouth, in your throat, as far as you could go.
“Fuck, kitten, that feels so fucking good… you’re so good to me…”
Your mouth watered with saliva as you continued to suck, now on your knees on his plush mattress and he pressed your head against him, this time not in comfort but in search of pleasure, moving ever so slightly to see just how far he could go.
“L-let me make you feel good, baby, you deserve it,” he said finally, pulling you off of him so that he could look into your eyes. “How about the gift that keeps on giving?”
You furrowed your eyebrows.
“Is this a suave way to tell me you have herpes?”
“69, ___!”
“I was kidding!” You giggled at his frustrated expression, but once you were repositioned and his face was buried in the pussy he enjoyed so much, you were no longer laughing but quivering with something not short of intense pleasure. Mouth full of cock, it was hard to focus on moving up and down his shaft properly as Kuroo’s hands on your ass were kneading, then slapping, and he still somehow wasn’t relenting on the tongue swishing around your wet cunt.
“K-Kuroo… it’s a lot, I can’t.. do the same for you,” you whined, saliva dripping from your lips as you .
“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured, muffled between your folds, eating like a man starved.
Your moans started to fill the air as he kissed and sucked faster, and when you started to convulse rapidly, unable to take the stimulation, you arched your back and in response he wrapped strong arms around your midsection to keep you flush against him.
“Kuroo!”
“Let me finish, kitten~” he whispered in a singsong voice, and if it weren’t for the fact that your body was starting to buzz in overstimulation, you would have yelled at him.
Once he’d grown bored with torturing your cunt with his mouth, he flipped you over onto your back, hovering over you with a greedy smirk.
“You’re so pretty when you’re pushed to your limit~” he sang with glee.
Still quivering ever so slightly, you narrowed your eyes at him but they soon widened as his cock finally pushed its way inside you. Wincing ever so slightly, you found yourself scratching at his back, more intensely with every thrust inside you that sent waves of pleasure through you from your toes to your nose.
“Fuck, Kuroo, please.. Don’t stop.”
At this rate, you’d claw permanent lines into his skin.
When his hands tightened around the headboard for support, you could tell he was close to climax, and accordingly, his strokes grew deeper and his grunts grew louder and your own peak started to approach. His chin found a home in the crook of your neck as he growled - that was the sound that finally tipped you over - and he too finally released, filling you with warm jets of cum your walls clenched around greedily.
He remained still for a moment, waiting as his cock only slowly began to soften, whispering praises into your ear.
“You’re so, so good to me… you’re the best gift I could ever have.”
Your hands slowly shifted around him, moving to cup his face tenderly.
“Wait till you see what I have in store for Christmas Day.”
#tetsuro kuroo x reader#kuroo x reader#tetsuro kuroo#kuroo#kuroo smut#haikyuu smut#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu!#not sfw#mae.writing#fic: all i want for christmas
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How did it happen?
(Bucky barnes x Female reader)
A/n: (Tw: cat. If you don't like cats gtfo of here) Although it is narrated in third person, the narration gravitates more around Bucky's pov (sorta). This is gonna be quite lousy so have fun, I guess.. If you can.
"How did this happen?" he whisper-sighed. "How? When?" He asked himself as he was staring into the distance, absent-mindedly stroking the white ball of fur curled up on his lap. Alpine let out a soft meow as if answering his soliloquies.
But for real though, how did he fall for you? The last he checked, you both were calling each other names out of contempt. Y/n y/l/n was simply insufferable, he always thought. Where did your acts of annoyance start blooming into everything he now yearns for?
As much as he would like to hide behind the idea that these sudden, irrational feelings hold no reason and meaning- how could he? How could he hide from what he knows? from what he realized? He could lie to himself all he wants- Hell, he had been lying to himself all this time, ignoring the wisps of light that marked the warnings through the pavements of this path he was sauntering down. He was walking into love and he refused to know it.
He wondered how different things would be now if he hadn't screwed up in your last mission and got you demoted to the archive library duty. Of course, jeopardizing a high stakes mission by starting a quarrel during field action is a grave mistake, but still Fury was being a little too extreme by suspending Y/n off the field for a month. Bucky didn't really believe that any of it was his fault, according to him it was you who were being your impossible self on the field that day. But he did feel sort of bad for you now. Maybe what Bucky shouldn't have done, was to try and make it up to you by spending time with you in that desolate library. Truth be told, it was partly an excuse for wanting to be around you.
There he was again, his thoughts lingering around you. Recounting the events of day before yesterday.
( The day before yesterday )
"Did you find it?," Bucky's voice echoed through the aisles as he walked towards the base of the ladder you were perched on looking for an old file Bucky needed for his mission. "Not just yet," you mused.
The archives library was completely empty except for the two of you. The sound of his boots against the spotless vinyl flooring filled the room as he was pacing back and forth. Clack-tap, Clack-tap, Clack-tap, Clack-tap. He found the rhythm weirdly gratifying. And he could see you didn't. If something could get you to lose your cool, what's not to love?
"Quit pacing," you sighed, slightly annoyed. He started to stomp on even louder. Clack-tap, Clack-TAP, CLACK-TAP,CLACK-TAP,CLACK-TAP. Your breathing quivered with exasperation, as your shoulders hunched and fell in gliding motions. Just as gratifying, he thought looking at it.
"Quit pacing, Goddamnit!" You practically growled.
"No." He said, scrunching up a smile fighting it's way on his face. "What are you? obsessed? Mind your business," he shot smugly.
"You're making it really hard for me to, you moron," You muttered as he broke out into a grin. Annoying you practically counted as top-tier entertainment for him.
~
"C'mon man, do something," You cried.
"Do what?"
"Search for those godforsaken files, maybe. I honestly-"
"I am searching,"
"No, you're not." You huffed.
"I am, and I'm beginning to think the files are not in he-"
"Shhh" you cut him off. He shot you a questioning look.
"Don't you hear it?" you whisper-hissed.
"Hear what?" he asked as he reached for his weapons, falling into a defensive posture.
"There's somebody else in he-" before you could complete the sentence, you were screaming and everything was collapsing as you fell off the ladder yanking the racks down along with you, a daunting cacophony of heavy crashes and clamours deafening as you and Bucky were whipped by gravity, with absolutely no idea what is happening for a solid couple of moments.
"What the fuck just happened?" Bucky asked as he looked around, his pale blue eyes wide and gleaming with absolute confusion. The racks were all fallen, everything loosely covered with the papers lying around. The room had become a little darker. "I- um.." You started, "I... It was a cat.." you said frantically as you were still trying to shake yourself from the shock. "It was a what?" he asked incredulously. "A cat! I mean, It sort of jumped at my face, and I.. It sneaked up behind the rack... and I jumped and everything fell.. I guess..." You cringed at yourself. Bucky winced and looked around again and that's when he realized. You both were cornered against the inner edge of the wall. The racks had fallen in front of you into perfect forts, blocking your way out. He was practically stuffed against you into a crooked modicum of space. Your back was pressed against his chest, his leg pitted against yours. There wasn't a lot he could've done about that. He was trapped in there with you. But most importantly, he had never been this close to you.
His heart did parkours and cartwheels. He could only hope you don't feel how hard it was beating. Where were all these butterflies coming from? His breath hitched, he wasn't even sure if he was breathing anymore, although it was the last concern on his dumb-foundedly racing mind. He could feel the softness of your hair against his neck, he'd be lying if he said that wasn't the softest, gentlest thing he has felt in about the past seven decades. It smelled like an orchard of flowers. He liked flowers. Although he couldn't tell what flower it smelled like, he knew it would've been his favourite flower. It calmed him down, that was, of course until his eyes looked down. He could see the stretch of your dangerously gorgeous collar bones sparkling in your sweat above your dress's boat-like neckline. His atheism breaking at the sight of that sculpted divinity, he couldn't help but pray, "God give me all the strength you can to keep me from kissing that work of art." The quantum leaps between the intervals of his heartbeats weren't helping either. Oh, at this moment, what he wouldn't give up to be the brittle golden necklace cascading from the graceful steeps and lows of your neck to the flesh over your heart. He held back not of strength, but because of fear.
As he was trying to fathom where all these thoughts were coming from, he was interrupted by you glazing your body against his body as you were striving to reach for a way out of the current situation. The way you groaned softly as you tried to reach for the other side of the rack-fort did things to him that he never would have expected. He was practically petrified. You gave up after a few moments, your head falling back against his ribs due to the impact. "Oof," he said his breath tickling your neck, cooling the sweat enough to send chills down your spine. "I'm sorry," you quivered in embarrassment. "So... there's no way out unless someone helps us out from the outside," you reported. He sighed in reply. He was way too nervous right now to speak in words.
~
"Are you claustrophobic or something?" you asked.
"What?"
"No, your heart has been racing real loud for quite some time now."
"I.. um.. small spaces do that to me,"
"Huh" you huffed.
You felt the coolness of his metal arm against the heated skin below the back of your neck, it was very soothing. He had laid the forearm carefully at a distance from you, and you couldn't help but wish he would wrap it around you. You could feel the vibrations of his vocal cord against your ear lobe as he talked. You were glad he couldn't see your face flushing at that.
Eventually he was able to relax, his heart slowing down. Although the situation was still quite awkward, he was not sure if he was complaining. That's when he heard footsteps. Someone was coming to their rescue. The footsteps grew louder, and there he was.
"Noah!" You exclaimed as he stood in front of you on the other side of the rack-fort. "Y/n! What's.. going on?" Noah asked as he looked at the mess. "Ah, we're trapped. Can you help us out of here?"
~~~
"Thank you," you smiled as he got them out of there with the help of the floor service. "How did you find us here?"
"We had a date, remember? You didn't show up so I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
"Oh my god, yes we did. All this happened and It totally slipped my mind. Thank god, we did though," you chuckled, looking around, "Hey Barnes, This is Noah, he works in the communications department,"
"Hey, man" Noah greeted. Bucky gave him a half-nod and a mean look.
~
"You know, it's not exactly late. If you are up to it, we could still go grab some dinner," Noah said, giving you this innocent look that Bucky, for some reason, found revolting.
"Yeah? of course," You were all smiles.
Since when does y/n smile like that? What did she see in this guy? He doesn't even know the guy, so why does he hate him so much? He felt displeased with himself for staring at you and Noah, like, why did he even care now? Bucky had so many questions. The answer was walking out of the hall with somebody else, and there was nothing he could do about it.
He was standing there in the once again empty library, lost in the middle of the bustling race track of his thoughts. That was when he felt something tugging at his legs, pulling him out of the maze he was being consumed by. He looked down at his little rescuer with fur as white as snow. "Hello there," He called, gentleness taking over his voice as he squatted down to pet the little cat that was rubbing its ears on his shoe straps. "Where did you come from, doll?" he giggled, scratching it's chin.
~ ( Today ) ~
"You were a no-show at the debriefing. Where were you yesterday?" You asked as you plopped down on the couch in the kitchen Island, your arm resting on the back pillow, turning your head back and looking at Bucky toying with the cutlery on the counter. "I.. was in my room," he said pushing back a stray lock of hair. "Coffee?" "Yeah," you muttered.
As you turned your head you saw a little white cat hopping onto your lap.
"I found her in the library, you know, the other day.. after you left. Guess I'm her owner now, kind of," he said as he handed you the coffee.
"Aww, he made a friend!" You giggled as you scratched the back of the cat's ears. "Hello! Do you like that, you little troublemaker?" you chuckled as the cat warmed up to you with it's eyes closed.
Bucky was blushing like an idiot. You were not gonna lie, that shade of red made him look a little too cute.
"Has she got a name?"
"Yeah well, I named her Alpine. It's a good name, right?"
"Alpine!" you grinned, "It's a lovely name."
~~
"What?" He asked, as you gave him a surprised look after sipping your coffee.
"The coffee is actually good," You said.
"Why, you didn't think I could make good coffee?"
"No, in all these three years, you've brought me coffee like 4 times, 3 out of which you put salt in my coffee and the one time you messed up the sugar real bad. On purpose, I suppose," you accused.
"To be fair, you deserved it,"
"Ah, there it is," you said.
Bucky couldn't help but stare at you. Here he was, sitting on the couch beside you, getting high of sorts on how close he was to you. He had been craving for it ever since the archive library. He locked himself in his room all yesterday, convincing himself that what he felt towards you wasn't real, although it only made more sense despite his inability to believe it. And here you were now, recklessly playing with his heartstrings. The image of a rogue strand of your hair caressing your temple, and your eyes becoming a softer shade of (y/e/c) as the sunlight fell on them vaporized the levee he built around the feelings he never thought would see the light of day again.
As if breaking him out of his trance, you said, "Ah, I'd love to hang around with you guys, but I gotta go. I said I'll be meeting Noah in a couple minutes."
"Right," he could feel his heart dropping for a second.
"Alright then... bye!" You called, and walked out of the room, as he watched your hair swaying to your stride.
And here he was, on the couch, wondering about what just happened. Alpine half asleep on his lap as he unconsciously whispered, "How did this happen?"
~~~~
#bucky#bucky barnes#james buchanan bucky barnes#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes one shot#winter solider#bucky x female reader#bucky x you#bucky x reader#self insert#alpine#falling in love#bucky barns x reader#bucky barns x y/n#bucky x y/n#x y/n#bucky barns fanfiction#bucky barns x you#bucky barns imagine#bucky imagine#cat#bucky oneshot
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the perfect touch
pairing: tom holland x touchstarved!reader
summary: you’ve never really had an intimate relationship with anyone before, you’ve never really felt close to anyone either—literally. you rarely let people touch you but you secretly crave affection. what happens when you finally find the one person you want to touch you—tom.
warnings: smut (it gets a bit dirty lmao)
word count: 5.2k
notes: this came to me randomly when i was thinking about my crush so it’s a little personal. it’s how i think i would react to the situation, i’m sorry if you hope to relate to it but can’t :( #touchstarvedgang
give me feedback! :)
Tom knew what was going on inside your head—you made sure to tell him that he was your first boyfriend, that he would be the first to touch you, that you were a little scared but wanting. So he made sure to pay attention to you in case you were too nervous to say what you wanted. He had gotten pretty good at reading you.
Sometimes you would scoot just a little closer to him on the couch, you’d rest your hand on your thigh, right next to his, tapping your fingers anxiously against your leg—he’d take notice and smile to himself before taking your hand in his, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. The first time he’d done it, you swear you forgot how to breathe for a few seconds.
Once, you were practically falling asleep in the back of your uber, your head was practically falling every five seconds but you were forcing yourself to stay up. You would have loved to rest your head on tom’s shoulder but you didn’t want to be annoying and you of all people could understand that sometimes people didn’t want to be touched. You also feared rejection so that was another issue... what if he said no? So you just resorted to letting your head roll around on the headrest as you tried your best not to pass out.
Tom finally noticed when your head snapped up rather sharply at a red light, the abrupt stop making you jolt. He turned to look at you, confused, but his gaze softened once he realized what you were up to.
“Darling, you can rest your head on me if you’d like.”
You immediately shook your head, “no it’s—“
But he interrupted you, “I’m not gonna let you break your neck trying to stay awake,” he looked at you earnestly, “I don’t mind, I swear.”
You just looked at him as he sat back making himself comfortable, before patting his shoulder, “Come on then,” he smiled.
You moved hesitantly and put your head on his shoulder and were a little disappointed when it wasn’t as comfortable as you’d hoped it would be. You tried to move around a bit a couple times but suddenly became very aware of the fact that moving around so much could be very annoying so you stayed in an uncomfortable position, your neck straining as you tried not to put your full weight on him.
He noticed that your body was tense, your posture stiff––so he nudged you a bit. Thinking he wanted you off of him, you got ready to lean against the window when he put a hand on your thigh, asking you to look at him. It took you a second to actually hear what he was saying since you could feel your skin burning under where he was touching.
“No wait, I just-thought you would be more comfortable like this” he said before opening his arm for you to tuck yourself into his chest, giving you a soft smile.
You replied a barely audible “oh” before moving into position again. Now this was way more comfortable—his arm wrapped around you and his hand subconsciously started rubbing up and down your arm, practically lulling you to sleep.
“Is this okay?” he asked softly.
You nodded in response, leaning further into him. Though his exterior was calm and collected, you could feel his heart beating rather fast and you couldn’t help but smile. Tom was very aware of the fact that you could feel and hear his heartbeat, and he may or may not have suggested you move for you to be able to do so. Soon enough, the constant beat was putting you to sleep.
When you woke up something felt different. Your eyes were still closed but you could feel that something had changed. Before you could process anything you felt Tom’s lips press a gentle kiss to your forehead, “we’re almost there, darling.”
You hummed and opened your eyes to look up at him, noticing an almost knowing smile on his face. You were about to reply when you realized you were literally in his lap, your legs over his, his arms caging you protectively. Your eyes widened and you were about to get off of him when his arms tightened, “No, stay.” He held you closer, pressing his cheek to your forehead, “You feel nice.”
Instead of disagreeing, you settled back into your previous position. “How did I even manage to get on top of you?” you mumbled against his shirt.
“You kept shuffling around and putting one of your legs over mine, so I just moved you completely to save you the trouble.”
You cringed at the thought of your restless movements annoying him before he continued, “Was really cute, honestly.”
You felt your cheeks heat up and you tucked your head further into his chest so he wouldn’t see you smile, but you were almost certain that he felt it.
––––
As your relationship progressed, you could feel yourself getting more comfortable with Tom. Being with him felt like a dream, and sometimes you couldn’t believe he was real, that he was really with you––but he knew just how to assure you that he was here and that he wasn’t going anywhere.
You felt his lips glide over your chest, just above the neck line of your shirt—you could have sworn your heart was going to beat out of your chest and the thought that Tom could hear and feel your elevating heart race made it beat even faster.
He looked up at you, his hands caressing your waist, “S’this okay, love?” he asked, a smirk on his face—he knew damn well you were enjoying yourself.
You nodded, licking your lips since suddenly your throat felt dryer than ever. “Really okay” you whispered, your voice raspy. You saw him swallow visibly at the sound of your voice and knowing that you could have that effect on him, boosted your ego just a little.
His hands squeezed your waist slightly and the feeling of his fingertips grasping you had you gasping and squirming in his lap. He bit his lip as he dragged his gaze up and down your body before leaning in again. Instead of just leaving pecks here and there, you sucked in a breath when you felt his tongue swipe across your collarbone. Your eyes rolled back to your head when he bit down softly and you could feel him smile against you.
One of his hands slid up your body, tracing every curve on its path before holding the side of your neck and you physically shivered at his touch. You almost felt embarrassed by your reactions but all that was pushed aside when you felt and heard him groan against you and you felt his bulge growing underneath you.
His lips made their way back up to your neck, kissing and biting at every spot until he found the one that made your back arch into his touch. The movement made you rut against him and you couldn’t help but moan out loud. Shocked at how loud you were, you bit your lip but Tom was quick to pull away, his thumb tracing your lips, “Ah ah, I wanna hear you.” You released your lip and he pressed a chaste kiss to it before turning his attention back to your neck.
“That felt nice, didn’t it?” You hummed an agreement and you felt him smile against your neck. “Why don’t you keep moving your hips like that, then? Wanna make you feel good.”
You were hesitant to do as he said, afraid that the action would make you seem a little desperate, almost like a dog humping something, you thought. But once you started and Tom began moving along with you, the pleasure clouded your doubts.
He growled into your neck and you swear you just about pooled in your underwear, “Just like that, love. Doing so good for me––fuck.”
Aaand yup––definitely have a praise kink, you thought to yourself.
You felt yourself get closer and closer with every movement, every push and pull from Tom’s eager hands guiding you on top of him. Your movements became unsteady as you neared your high and Tom soon took full control of your hips, whispering sweet nothings to you, coaxing you to release.
“Come on princess, let go for me.” He pulled back to look at you after leaving a small kiss on your jaw. “Look so pretty for me, riding my thigh like this.”
You let out a small whimper at his words, you felt like you were on fire.
“Come for me, love.”
Your breath hitched and your body tensed on top of him, your hands gripping at his shoulders and he smiled at you, completely in awe of how incredible you looked. You collapsed onto his chest and his arms were quick to find their way around you. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Did so good for me, darling.”
Your heart fluttered at his words––at him. He always knew what to do, what to say.
He wasn’t going to go any further until you explicitly told him you were ready, he was respectful and you couldn’t be more grateful that you found someone as sweet as him. That most definitely deserves a reward, you thought. You were tired of seeing him go to the bathroom to take care of himself after every time you guys did something––or more importantly he did something for you. You felt a little guilty, even though he told assured you it was no problem and he’d do it for as long as he needed to until you were ready.
Before he could run off to the bathroom, you quickly got down on your knees in front of him, putting your hands on both of his thighs as you looked up at him with those innocent eyes of yours and you could have sworn you heard him swallow at the sight of you.
“W--What are you doing?”
You licked your lips, “I wanna help you.”
He brought a hand to your cheek, his thumb softly caressing your skin and you turned your head to kiss his palm before nuzzling further into his touch. “It’s my turn to make you feel good.”
He looked at you earnestly, “You know you don’t have to, right?”
You nodded, “I know,” you smiled, “I really want to, though.” You looked between his eyes and his bulge, biting your lip, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”
You looked up at him again once you heard him curse. “Well, how can I say no to my girl?” He pulled down his sweats, then his underwear and you hate to admit it but your mouth may have watered.
He bit his lip as he looked down at you on your knees in front of him, it was an even prettier sight than he had imagined––and trust me he thought about it a lot. He stroked his cock and you licked your lips. “D’you want me to sit or stand, love?”
“Um,” you cleared your throat, “whichever is––more comfortable for you.”
He smiled, taking his seat again. It seemed he was a bit nervous too. He just wanted to make this as enjoyable and comfortable for you as well.
Once he was situated, you took a deep breath and moved closer. “Okay––I just––I might need you to teach me a bit, yeah?” You looked up at him and he tried his best to control his breathing.
“Yeah, yeah, of course.” He tried his best to make it seem as though he was totally composed and in control but on the inside he was freaking out, perhaps even more than you. You drove him crazy with just the looks you gave him and the sounds you made...Now that you were actually going to touch him? He was almost certain he’d immediately combust.
You grabbed him at his base and he hissed at the feeling. You paused, eyes wide as you gauged his reaction.
“Sorry, just felt good, that’s all––promise,” he chuckled nervously.
You nodded slowly and shifted your attention back to the task at hand. You noticed the precum pooling at his tip and swirled your thumb around it, spreading it around to make your movements smoother. You guessed it was the right move as Tom’s breathing became heavier from it.
You swirled your hand around until his whole member was slick and he cursed under his breath. “Just like that––don’t even need my help you’re doing so good.”
He tried his best to keep his eyes open but with how good you were making him feel, he couldn’t help but let his eyes flutter shut. But once he felt your tongue swirl around his tip, his eyes blew wide open, ”Holy shit––”
It was your plan the whole time to get your mouth on him, but from his reaction, it seemed that he wasn’t expecting it. You immediately popped off of him, “Oh! I’m sorry I––”
“No no,” he cut you off, leaning forward to kiss you. “I’m sorry love, I just wasn’t expecting that. But um you can, continue,” he laughed, sitting back.
You put your mouth around him, swirling your tongue since you’d heard it felt good (and apparently that was true based on Tom’s reaction) and began to bob your head slowly. Meanwhile, Tom’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, as his hands came up to rest on your head––not to guide your movements but just to feel you.
You started to suck as your movements sped up and that’s when Tom almost lost his mind. His hips were straining not to buck into your mouth––the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.
You focused on your breathing and closed your eyes, putting all your effort in to pleasing him. He’d been the perfect boyfriend so far and you finally gathered the courage to actually do something for him. It had to be perfect.
You peeked at him for a moment as you reached a hand up grasp his balls, and you could see it practically sucked a breath of air from him. Soon enough, he was reaching his high.
“Oh god––I’m gonna cum darling.” He tried to move back so he could finish elsewhere but you put a hand on his thigh to stop him and his eyes widened.
“Love I––”
You pulled off of him causing an obscene wet noise but you were too focused on him to be embarrassed. You wiped your hand with the back of your mouth and looked up at him and though the action was sloppy and careless, it made him throb, “I want you to cum in my mouth,” you stated simply before diving back in, your hand pumping the rest of his length that your mouth couldn’t reach. And within seconds, before he could even react, he was shooting his load, muscles tensing as a broken cry escaped his lips.
“F––Fuck darling.”
You pumped him through his high smiled up at him, feeling proud. Once he realized that you swallowed, he chuckled in disbelief, “How did I manage to get the most perfect girl in the world?”
“I’m the one who got the most perfect boy.” You smiled, rolling your eyes and got into the bed as he pulled up his underwear and his sweats. He turned off the lights and made his way over to his side of the bed. He lied on his back and wrapped his arm around you and you settled in comfortably, feeling satisfied with the job you’d done.
He kissed your forehead as you both settled in to sleep. “When you’re ready, I’m gonna return the favor––and I swear I’ll eat you for hours if you’ll let me.”
You closed your eyes and nuzzled into his chest, the biggest smile on your face as you tried your best to calm your heartbeat–-the one in your chest...and the one between your legs.
–––––––
You had been thinking about it since before you started dating Tom––not that you were obsessed with sex or anything but you had always wondered what it would be like your first time, if it would feel good––a whole bunch of stuff, really.
But more recently you had been thinking about it with Tom––you were ready to take that step with him, you were just hoping that your nerves would have calmed down by now.
Here you were, Tom hovering over you and you couldn’t even focus on the pleasure––you were too busy being stuck in your own head, trapped by your own thoughts. Your boyfriend was shirtless on top of you and your anxiety couldn’t even wait for one moment and just let you have this––
Tom, always picking up on your signals, immediately pulled away from you, leaving the mark he was working on to slowly fade away. He looked into your eyes, “What’s wrong?” He moved so that he was sitting up beside you. “You’re not fully here with me, what’s up?”
You sat up, clasping your hands together in your lap. “I just––you know that I’ve never...done anything with anyone,” you paused to look at him, continuing after he gave you a small encouraging smile, his hand resting on your thigh reassuringly, not moving as he didn’t want to make you more nervous and he knew how much his touch gave you butterflies. “I guess I’m a little scared that you won’t like what you see? Or that...I don’t know––this is just a little overwhelming.”
“Well darling, I am one hundred percent certain that I will find you absolutely breathtaking as soon as you take your clothes off, given the fact that you take my breath away fully clothed, already.” He chuckled before looking at you seriously and sincerely, “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to today. You know that, right?”
You perked up immediately, “No no, Tom I’m sure that I want to do this with you,” you leaned in to give him a quick peck on the lips. “I really do...”
You took a deep breath and stood up before peeling your sweats off. You heard Tom’s breathing slow down as you stepped out of them. You looked up at him and saw that his eyes were glued to your thighs, his lips parted. You started dating in the fall, and it was still winter, so he hadn’t even seen you in shorts yet.
You bit your lip before and peeled your shirt off, leaving you in just your bra and panties. Seeming to snap himself out of his trance, Tom stood up as well.
“Seems only fair,” he smiled, pulling his sweats down. He stepped close to you and you looked up at him, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin. “Can I?” He asked, gesturing to your undergarments.
You nodded, swallowing thickly before turning around. You could feel his breath fanning your neck and jolted slightly when you felt him press a wet kiss to your neck. His hands came up to your waist, his fingers caressing you softly before reaching up and unclasping your bra. He pushed the straps down your arms and you gasped slightly as the cold air hit you, your nipples hardening immediately.
You heard and felt his breath hitch behind you. His hands came up around you, feeling and squeezing your breasts, “You’re gorgeous.”
You turned around and leaned up to kiss him, his hands found their place on your ass and you moaned breathlessly into his lips. He broke the kiss reluctantly and got down on his knees in front of you. He looked up at you, leaving kisses on your stomach and you stopped breathing for a minute––he just looked so enticing, so lustful for you.
His hands caressed your thighs, moving up slowly before reaching the waistline of your panties. Carefully, not moving his eyes from yours, he slid them down your legs, leaving soft kisses as you stepped out of them. He quickly stood up and rid himself of his own underwear before leaning in to kiss you again.
“Let’s get on the bed, yeah?” You nodded into the kiss and moved backward until you hit the bed. You dropped down onto it and moved into the middle, Tom hovered on top of you, resuming his position from the start.
He looked into your eyes, his hand gently holding your cheek “You ready, baby?”
You nuzzled into his touch and nodded, “Yes, promise.”
He muttered a soft okay before kissing you on the lips again, then began trailing his lips down your body ever so softly. He kissed between your breasts, while grasping them both in his hands. Your back arched at his touch and you felt him smile into your chest.
His lips trailed down even further, until he reached under your belly button. He looked up at you and spread your legs, before finally looking down. “Can I finally taste you, sweetheart? Is that okay with you? You just look so beautiful I’m dying to get a taste.”
You nodded, and he smiled up at you. He kissed your thigh, making sure to keep eye contact with you. All you could focus on was each other––the whole world drowned out around the both of you. He slowly, teasingly made his way up to your inner thigh, then skipping his way over to the other thigh, still looking at you while doing so.
He nipped your skin softly and you gasped at the feeling. You reached your hands down and placed them on his own, and he clasped your hands together before holding your waist down with his arms. He leaned in and licked along your slit. You weren’t sure what to expect, but with all the teasing and build up, just the slightest touch felt great.
He curved his tongue up and down along your folds, soon leaving open mouthed kisses on your lips. You sighed contently and he hummed into your heat, only adding to your pleasure.
Tom had picked up on your reaction to his praise, so he made sure to use it to his advantage, to make this as enjoyable for you as can be.
“Y’taste so fucking good baby,” he mumbled in between his kisses and licks. You whimpered, your back arching, hips straining under his hold. “Meant it when I said I would taste you for hours. But I know you have other plans for today, so I’ll leave that for some other day.”
He slid a finger into you and you let out a sound you couldn’t even describe if you wanted to, all you know is that it caused Tom to quicken his pace and tighten his hold on you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head but a squeeze of your hand brought your attention to the boy between your legs. “Eyes on me, love.” You nodded enthusiastically and he smirked at your increased eagerness.
He started paying extra attention to your clit, lapping at it before sucking it harshly, and sliding another finger into your heat. He curved them at just the right spot and soon enough you felt yourself reaching your peak. Your eyes fluttered shut, your mouth dropped open and your thighs tightened around Tom’s head.
When you came to and finally opened your eyes, Tom was leaving kisses around your heat, his hands no longer in yours but caressing all the skin he could touch.
“Such a good girl for me.”
You moaned involuntarily and he chuckled at your reaction, his hands still rubbing your skin soothingly as you were still slightly shaking from your orgasm.
“How was that princess?” He smirked, knowing damn well it was mind-blowing.
You rolled your eyes, unable to wipe the smile off of your face, “Get up here and kiss me, Holland.”
He was quick to scramble up and meet your lips with his and your hand found it’s place in his curls. You easily got lost in each other, and you could taste yourself on his lips and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on even more.
Just as Tom slipped his tongue into your mouth, one of his hands slipped down to find your clit. You whined into the kiss, still a bit sensitive from your high.
He pulled away to look at you, biting his lip. “Just one more, love.” He pressed his head against yours as you panted at the feeling of his fingers expertly handling your bundle of nerves. “Need at least one more to make sure you’re ready for my cock.”
You audibly groaned at his words and he slid his two fingers back in you, twisting them and curling them just right before adding another finger and stretching you open.
Once his thumb reached up to rub at your clit––you were seeing stars. Your hand dropped down, your body going limp. Tom kissed your cheeks softly, coaxing you down.
Once you opened your eyes again, Tom asked, “are you still up for more?”
You couldn’t have nodded more eagerly.
He positioned himself between your legs and you noticed his throbbing member standing tall. You could tell he actually enjoyed pleasuring you––How could he get any more perfect?
He stroked his member a few times, cursing under his breath and dropping his head back after finally paying attention to his neglected member––not that he was complaining. You swear your mouth practically watered at the sight. When he regained his composure, he looked at you, checking if you were still alright then down to your center.
He swiped his member through your folds and hissed, “Holy shit you’re so wet, love.” He licked his lips, rubbing your clit with his tip, making you arch your back. “Gonna be so warm and tight for me.” His thumb was rubbing circles on your inner thigh, trying to calm any nerves you might have.
He rubbed your wetness all around your pussy, on your clit––the slightest touch had you jolting. But you needed more.
“Tommy,” he perked up at the new nickname. To be honest, you had been saving it for when the two of you were intimate––you felt that it was too personal to be said otherwise. “I need more, baby. Need you.”
His eyes widened and his heart rate quickened, “Of course, darling.” He pressed his tip into your entrance and your breath hitched. “Breathe for me, love. Need you to relax.”
You nodded and tried to even out your breathing, sink into the sheets so you could be ready for him. He slowly pushed his way in a little further, waiting for you to let him know when he could move.
You felt like it was taking you forever to adjust, was it annoying or frustrating for him? It was for you, that’s for sure. After beating yourself up in your head for a moment you spoke up, “I’m sorry this is taking so long, Tom. I––I don’t know what to do...”
His brows furrowed, “Hey hey, no no no, this isn’t something you have to be sorry for, this is completely natural, love.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead, careful not to move down there. “I will wait as long as you need, I promise.”
You smiled, but he could tell you were still worried. He brought his thumb to your clit and started rubbing it slowly, spreading your wetness and you felt yourself start to melt in the sheets. He leaned forward, resting his weight on one hand near your head, while the other held his member.
He left wet kisses on your neck, leaving marks where he could reach. “Feel so good for me already, you know that? You’re so snug and tight, s’like your pussy was made for my cock.” He looked into your eyes “You’re mine.”
Your walls clenched around him and he almost choked on his breath. Your hands grasped his shoulders, and your legs wrapped around his waist, pushing him further inside you. “God love––you’ll be the death of me I swear.”
You were almost there, almost completely filled and you were so eager to get there. Tom could tell you were yearning for it. He looked at you before leaning down to swirl his tongue around your nipple before sucking on it and you groaned loudly. “Fuck Tommy––”
“That’s what I like to hear, baby,” he switched to your other breast, making sure to pay equal attention to both. From the stimulation on your nipples and your clit, you loosened up a bit more and pulled Tom in all the way. He popped off of your chest to look at you, mouth hung open in shock. He caught his breath after a moment, “Feels so good––”
It took you a few more minutes, but soon you were ready for him to move. And once he did, you felt better than you thought you would. “Please don’t stop, Tommy.” You whispered in his ear and he growled and dropped his head into the crook your neck where he began leaving wet kisses as he thrusted faster.
“This pussy feels like heaven, I swear,” he muttered half to himself.
Between the feeling of his lips, his hand and his cock––you felt yourself get close rather quickly, in your opinion. “I’m gonna come, baby.” You looked up at him as he pulled away from your neck to look down at you. He leaned his forehead against yours, the both of you panting at the overwhelming feeling of pleasure.
“Yeah, darling?” You nodded helplessly. “I’m close too––as soon as I pushed myself in that tight little pussy of yours it was practically coaxing me to the edge.
He started pounding you faster, constantly checking to see if you were okay with the pace and the feeling. Your eyes rolled back and your back arched for who knows what time that night. “Oh my god Tom––”
“That’s it babygirl––fuck.”
He was about to pull out when you held him in place, “I’m on the pill, Tommy.” He looked into your eyes, trying to figure out if you were really telling him what he was thinking or if he was just clouded by the pleasure you were giving him. “You can come inside me, baby. I want you to. ”
He came almost instantly, if it wasn’t obvious that you found it incredibly hot, he would have found it almost pathetic. A couple more thrusts and he emptied himself out inside of you. You sighed contently and bit your lip, trying to contain your beaming smile as you looked up at him and the fucked out look on his face––beyond happy that you were the reason that it was there.
“You, my love, are the best thing that’s ever and will ever happen to me.” You felt your eyes tear up a bit at his confession but before you could say anything––not that you even know what you could have said, he pulled out of you and watched the cum drip out of your hole before taking his cock and thrusting it back into you, “Don’t want it to slip out just yet. Y’look so pretty full of my come, you know that?” He nuzzled his nose into your cheek.
You swear only Tom could make a moment both incredibly dirty yet touching. He was yours. Your perfect boy.
––––––––––––––
taglist:
@rmillerartemis @hollandmcu @buckyliciouss @tiny-friggin-human @tomshufflepuff @amagicalpieceofshit @peachllobotomy @delicately-written @parkersvibes @musiclover1263 @undiadeestos @fanficscuziranout
#tom holland#tom holland imagine#tom holland x reader#tom holland smut#tom holland fluff#tom holland x touchstarved!reader
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for what its worth i originally followed you /because/ i find it so charming how passionate you are for your specific niche interests. like i know nothing abt hlvrai like i have literally no idea what it is (is it... a podcast? lets play...?) idk how i found you but i just thought huh this person is really cool and neat and super into this thing ive never heard of and super unapologetic that its "weird" fetish shit, thats dope, /im/ into weird fetish shit lol and ive loved seeing you on my dash since then, even though i still got no clue who these dudes are. Sorry this is weird lol i hope this doesnt come off as condescending or anything i just thought why not let you know (:
that is very nice of u and i have no idea how you got here or how youve managed to stick around but.....thank u nonetheless
and i know you didnt actually ask this but this ask is basically fresh meat to a piranha so (swiveling in my chair) i am going to tell u about hlvrai.
hlvrai is a half life machinima, which basically means "a handful of people used a video game to roleplay a bunch of characters in a story". (sorry if this seems condescending. i dont mean to be im just erring on the side of caution.) you can find the abridged version here on youtube. it was streamed live on twitch by funny man wayneradiotv, and ended up developing a terrifyingly huge fanbase b/c A) its funny, but also B) it has a dude that exists purely to antagonize/flirt with the main character, gordon freeman. this dudes name is benrey. he is almost certainly the biggest reason why this fanbase exploded shortly after it aired. he is also, unfortunately, the half life security guard model that cursed my dick
the thing about hlvrai is that it also spawned a uniquely sex-averse fanbase. which is why i end up with so many people giving me shit on here. there are a number of interlocking reasons for this. one is the average age of the fans. its an M-rated machinima based on an M-rated game, but a huge chunk of the fandom consists of 15 yr olds with incredibly wack ideas about sexuality. red vs blue (the halo machinima) also had a primary audience of teenagers and young adults, but it has over 10 fucking thousand fics on ao3 and not nearly the same violent repulsion towards adult works. probably b/c the average gamer was more likely to just call you a slur if they found out you wanted the purple and orange master chiefs to bang.
this dovetails with some popular misinterpretations of comments made by wrtv and the cast about nsfw fanworks. wayne doesnt like seeing them and it makes him uncomfortable to be shown them, but he has stated multiple times that he doesnt actually give a shit if people make them and we can do what we want in our own spaces. he has no desire to play fandom police and, more importantly, has no desire for anybody else to do so, either. buuut most people who are het up about this are teenagers who are already uncomfortable around the subject of sex, who think that wayne was just being coerced into saying that stuff, and who very much do not want to be convinced otherwise. (and im certainly not gonna fucking try.)
at the end of the day a lot of peoples problems with nsfw fanworks boils down to, they see these machinima characters as just "the streamers being themselves", so drawing them touching dicks amounts to drawing rpf of real, actual guys. like the mcyt fanbase. but its just demonstrably untrue! wayne repeatedly has to cajole himself into getting into character as gordon freeman. benrey has his own fucking plushie and is a recurring character on waynes streams now. they are their own characters! and at this point i have psychoanalyzed them so thoroughly and read so much into a half life improv series they might as well be their own fucking OCs. (god knows thats what most content in this fandom amounts to, anyway.)
sorry. that was mean. anyway i dont know if you care about any of this but if you ask me literally anything about hlvrai i will explode like a water balloon. i am just enthralled with the concept of the series and with these two characters in specific and i still really really want them to fight and fuck and piss their pants or whatever embarrassing shit
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December 19, 2021
Hello! I’m done with this chapter just in time! It took me all day cause I get distracted easily lol Enjoying my countdown for Christmas with this domestic family? Then catch up with the masterpost here!
Summary: Welcome to the flashback episode where we get the story of how Dean and Cas got together. I think it’s dumb but cute :)
Word Count: 2358 (yeah...this one could have been longer but I had to chill)
Cas was humming in the kitchen, his playlist playing loudly through the house, while he prepared Dean’s lunch. He stirred the soup once before grabbing a spoon to taste for seasoning. Adding a bit more white pepper before dropping the chopped kale into the hot pot of chicken rice soup.
“Dad?” Jack appeared on Cas’s left. “What time is Dad coming home?”
Claire appeared on Cas’s right. “And what the hell are you listening to?”
He turned towards Jack first, who was mesmerized by the stirring of the soup. “You’re Dad will get off from work at 5, so by 5:30 he should be home.” Then he turned his attention to Claire who was snacking on the homemade croutons. Her eyes met his and she smiled, small and crooked with warm eyes. “And I’m listening to a playlist Sam made me. I believe this is Wannabe by the Spice Girls. Oh, scratch that it’s playing Heaven Help Me by Lizzo now.”
Her eyes widened before she threw her head back to laugh. A hand landing hard on his shoulder while he smiled fondly at his daughter. Jack was already humming the song while reaching for some croutons for himself. Making a face when he bits down on a real burnt one.
“Does Dean listen to this teenage girl stuff?” Claire asked, leaning against the counter.
Jack copied her movement but it didn’t look as casual as Claire made it seem. Cas moved around them to get a tall thermos to fill with enough soup for a second or third bowl. Dean’s lunchbox was already filled with everything he needed to keep himself warm and full until he came home for dinner. He even added a loaf of apple cinnamon bread to his lunch so Dean could share with his coworkers. A smaller thermos was filled with coffee and he was bringing an extra reusable water bottle, covered in stickers Jack picked out, just in case.
“Sometimes. If he’s in a good enough mood.” Cas admits as he finishes filling up the thermos and zipping up the lunch box.
“You know, you never really told me when you two finally got together.” Claire pushed herself off the counter to grab his arm, looking at him with bright rounding eyes that matched his eye color. “I think I deserve to hear how my Dads got together!”
“It’s a great story.” Jack agrees as he decided that copying his sister wasn’t fun anymore but he was gonna rummage through the fridge. “Dad Dean doesn’t really like talking about it much.”
“What? Why?” Claire furrowed her eyebrows together while looking up at Cas for answers. “You two are so happy-old-married-couple that it’s sickeningly cute. Was he embarrassed or something?”
“Thank you?” Cas raises an eyebrow back at her as he swings the lunchbox into his shoulder. “And he was embarrassed but I think it’s a story we should tell in front of your father.”
“Why?”
“Cause it would be funny.” Cas tells her with a wink while Jack hummed in agreement, a big smile on his face.
As Cas drove slowly through the icy road, he was smiling, fighting back a laugh, unable to stop remembering the day he returned to Earth. Returned to Dean.
It was a few days of Earth time after Chuck was defeated that Cas escaped with his brothers and sisters, along with a few demons that tagged along. He made sure Ruby stayed asleep and behind, not wanting her to bother Sam or Eileen. He never did find Crowley or Meg, even spending some time calling out for both of them when he realized so many were woken up.
Jack found him and helped him up to heaven to try to fix whatever they could. He didn’t ask about Dean or Sam but Jack reassured him that they were fine.
“Let me make you stronger, Cas.” Jack reached for him but Cas stopped him, shaking his head.
“I don’t plan on being an angel for long, Jack. So let me use whatever is left to help you.”
And he did. Two Earth months passed before everything was sort of decided upstairs. Raphael wasn’t the biggest fan of the new dynamic but he followed orders, happy it wasn’t under Chuck and he could actually interact with whoever was in charge.
Cas could feel more of his grace slip away from him when he was with Bobby, reassuring him that his boys were the hero’s he believed them to be, and most importantly they were happy.
“Are you going back to them?” Bobby asked as he sipped at his beer, Cas sat beside him drinking one of his own. Tasted just like the first one Dean has ever given him.
Cas hummed into the bottle. “I am.”
“But they think you’re six feet under?”
“They do.” He looked down at his bottle, peeling away the label with his thumbs. “Sometimes I believe that Dean doesn’t think so.”
“Why is that?”
“He prays to me constantly.” Cas smiles, listening to Dean’s prayer right now. “Right now he’s complaining about the crowd at the grocery store.” He chuckles. “And he’s right. I do hate waiting in those long lines.”
Bobby doesn’t say much but the way he says, “Just take care of my boy.” Felt like the blessing he needed, the push, to finally go back to Dean.
Jack was coming down to Earth with him. It may take a while longer to figure out the spell to conceal and hold Jack’s God powers but they would figure it out. Amara promises to find them a way to help him and will contact them soon, giving Jack a final squeeze before she disappears.
Cas gave Gabriel one last hug, Adam even gave him one even though he was sure Michael wasn’t the hugging type before Jack flew them back to Earth. Appearing in the middle of the bunker’s library.
Jack ran off with a small smile on his lips, it was constantly strained and never reached his eyes as his powers overwhelmed him, to go look for the brothers. Cas was feeling dizzy from the flight so he shut his eyes, taking a hold of the back of the chair to steady himself.
Then he looked up when he heard a bottle break. There was a figure laying on top of the map table.
Cas took out his blade and made his wobbly legs steady before making his way over. Kicking empty beer bottles as he went. Then two bottles of bourbon by the steps. Then he saw the broken bottle of tequila that now laid on the floor by the table.
His eyes traveled up to the map table to see Dean sat blinking over at him. Head tilted and mouth slightly parted. As if he still couldn’t put a name to his face.
Cas put his blade down and made his way over to the drunk hunter. “Be careful there is glass everywhere.”
When he made it to the broken bottle he pushed it into a neat pile with his shoe.
“How about you go to bed and I’ll clean this up?” Cas leaned down to pick up the bigger pieces but he was quick to cut himself. “Fuck.” Cas hissed as he realized he couldn’t find any grace to even heal himself enough to stop the bleeding.
Dean gently reaches down to take Cas’s bleeding hand. “The last time I saw you, the real you, the same hand was bleeding.” Dean held on to his hand and tears started to fall into Cas’s hand. “I wish I could have at least helped you patch it up. I wish I could have at least done one goddamn thing for you.”
“Dean.” Cas reached to touch Dean’s face with the tips of his fingers but Dean pushed his face into his palm. His heart raced as he cradled Dean’s face in his good hand while his other hand was being held so gently.
“I miss you, Cas.” His eyes closed as Cas’s thumb started to make circles around his cheek all on its own. Feeling the stubble that was growing too long for Dean’s liking. “I miss you so damn much and I just...I don’t-I don’t think you’re coming back this time.”
“I’m back, Dean.” Cas tells him with urgency. Taking his bleeding hand back to grab Dean’s face, wanting to make him look at him. When Dean blinks up at him again his eyes start to water. “I’m back! I’m here. I’m here, Dean. As long as you want me.”
“Cas?” Dean finally seems to look at him, actually see him. “You’re here?”
“I’m here.”
“You’re back?” Dean covers Cas’s bloody hand with his own while the other one reaches to grip the trench coat.
“Yes, dumbass.” Cas chuckles through his tears.
Dean tugs at Cas’s coat and pulls him into a hug. His arms wrapped around his shoulders into a tight embrace, his nose nuzzled into Cas’s neck. His breath tickling him and his breath...horrendous.
“You stink, Dean.” Cas hugs him back as he hides his face into Dean’s shoulder.
“I love you.” Dean says as he pulls himself closer.
“I know. I heard your prayers.” Cas chuckles into Dean’s skin. “I love you too.”
Dean pulls back so suddenly that it scares Cas. Thinking maybe he said something wrong but then Dean made another sudden move.
“Marry me!”
Cas choked on his breath when he couldn’t even find his next words.
“Cas, marry me!” His eyes were wide, eyes dilated and a flushed face. Clearly drunk out of his mind. “You’re back so we can get married now! I mean...I think you need to ask Sam for my hand but fuck him for ditching me for Eileen today. Let’s get married before he gets home.”
Dean started to pull him towards the stairs, both of them stumbling over their feet for two different reasons.
“Can I come too?” Jack finally made his way towards them. “I can be a flower boy!”
“Jack, we’re not getting married.” Cas tells him, his head spinning. “I just…Dean, you’re drunk!”
“Am not!” Dean argued back, his brows furrowed together. Cas’s shoulders relaxed as he looked at how cute his grumpy expression was. “Say you’ll marry me, Cas!”
“Fine, I’ll marry you!” Cas smiles back at him and the grin that shined through Dean’s eyes made his heart race. Fuck, he really missed him. “But not tonight. Tonight we sleep off the alcohol.”
Dean Winchester was pouting at him and his heart ached. He reached to grip at his own shirt, right over his heart. “Dean, please.”
“But I love you.”
“Aww,” Jack pouted back at him. “Dad, he loves you!”
“Jack, you are not helping.” Cas glared at him and then before he looked back at Dean he had a pair of hot lips pressed against his own. Dean was kissing him.
Before he could even enjoy the kiss or even register it completely, Dean was throwing up on his shoes.
Back in the garage, Cas was grinning when he stepped into the warm office. Dean was in the front office when he walked in, the phone between his shoulder and ear as he typed away in the computer. His eyes widened when he saw Cas but then a smile spread across his lips.
“Yes, we’ll send someone right over to tow your car right over. It shouldn’t take more than two to look at. Of course. It’ll be ready by tomorrow. No worries. Okay, have a nice day.” He hung up the phone and quickly rushed to pull Cas into a quick kiss and a tight hug. “Babe, what are you doing here? I said the roads were still too icy to drive in.”
“And yet you put snow chains on my tiers this morning.” Cas hands him his lunch that his boyfriend takes with a grin.
“It’s cause I know you wouldn't listen.” He kisses Cas’s cheek. “Thanks, Babe. You have time to eat lunch with me?”
“I always have time for you, Dean.”
When lunch was over Cas walked back to his truck, Dean fixing the beanie over his head once again. Giving him a quick kiss before saying, “Get home safely.”
“You too, sweetheart.” Cas waves at him when he quickly rushes to the warmth of his truck. Then before he gets into the car he looks back at Dean, who of course was still looking back at him, “Oh, by the way, Claire wants to hear the story of how we got together.”
Dean stood there for a few seconds as his face dropped, cute grumpy. “No.”
“I promised to tell her over dinner!”
“No!”
“Love you!”
“Cas, babe, no!”
“Love you! Bye!”
“Love you too but no! Cas!”
That drunk proposal felt like years ago instead of months.
Of course, the best part of the night was the following morning.
Cas woke up with Dean staring down at him, eyes red and filled with tears but a soft smile on his lips. Fingers running through his hair in a gentle caress. Never feeling more at home than he did that morning in Dean’s bed.
“I thought it was creepy to watch people sleep.” Cas mumbles as he reaches over to rub his eyes with the palm of his hands.
“It is but you’re, um...you’re cute when you sleep.” Dean admitted while Cas froze his face warming up under his hands. “Are you really here, Cas?”
He finally pulled his hands down to stare back at Dean. “I am.”
“And you’re here to stay? Human?”
“I am.” Cas stood still under Dean’s intense stare. “If you’ll have me.”
Dean didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned down to kiss him breathless.
Cas, as well as Jack, was made to promise not to talk about the proposal. Especially the throwing up part or the Jack carrying a passed out Dean to his bed. Cleaning both of them up before he went back to his own room.
Still, he loved to tease him every chance he got. And he knew their daughter will do the same.
#Destiel#Deancas#Supernatural#SPN#A More Profound OTP#Jack#Jack Winchester#A Child#My Writing#destiel fic#destiel ficlet#spnadventcalendar#destiel advent calendar#sort of a stand alone coda fic if you squint a little
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Space Is Only Noise If You Can See
a/n: I don’t know why I’m doing this. Maybe it’s because I handle change & uncertainty extremely poorly and that is all my life is rn. Maybe I just need to find out the extent of my evil powers. Regardless, you’re about to experience something unpleasant. TW major character death, suicide mentions, guns, violence, you name it, it’s happening. Only positive is I actually outlined the whole thing first this time so I know where we’re going (it’s not good). ~2.8k
Mr. Scratch surrendered. Or did he? Discuss.
It was always the smell that got to him. The sickly sweet scent of decaying flowers. He wondered who had made the decision to flood all funerals with the same noxious lilies. Didn’t that smell make anyone else feel ill? It lingered in the back of his throat, fogging his vision. He scowled at the offending arrangements—ostentatious wreathes shaped like hearts with hollow messages in a stock cursive font. He had been to so many funerals at this point he was reluctant to admit he sometimes got confused about where he was, who he was mourning. He tried to focus on the portrait of the deceased, but the outline kept shifting.
He blinked hard to settle his contacts, tears always had a detrimental effect on their usefulness. He needed to remember to wear his glasses to the next funeral. A twisted laugh threatened to slip, gallows humor at its finest. No matter how hard he tried, there would always be a next funeral. He wondered how many more before it was his turn, before he no longer had to be the one staying strong for everyone else, pretending the smell didn’t make him choke. He looked again, determined to figure out when he was before he was required to do anything, before he let on that he wasn’t fully present.
The coffin, shiny and black, occupied center stage. Where he thought he’d seen people solemnly walking up the aisle to say goodbye, there was only empty space. He realized he was unnervingly alone. Yet the coffin was not, it was flanked on either side by identical shapes, the light reflecting from their polished surfaces dazzling his vision. He stumbled to his feet, gripping tightly to the smooth wood of the pew in front of him. He rubbed his fingers against it, distracted by the grain, worn down by decades of touch. He looked again and there were six coffins, the once open space crowded and bent to accommodate so much loss.
He swayed, confused, it must be the damn flowers. The whole room seemed to tilt and he fell into the aisle, landing hard on his knees. He looked up just in time to see the coffins, doubled, tripled in size, rolling toward him, shuddering as they picked up speed.
Hotch gasped as he woke up on the jet, gripping the armrest tightly as he scanned the area around him. No one noticed the slight disruption, he knew well how to stay still, how to disappear in response to distress. Everyone was dozing or lost in their thoughts, drained from long days on the road. He counted their heads to check that everyone was accounted for. They were coming back from another case, he wasn’t quite sure from where. His hands shook from holding the seat too tightly so he put them in his lap, absently running his thumb across his other fingers.
He pulled out his phone to check the time and, more importantly, to check the date. He’d been struggling ever since the Scratch case to keep the details of time in order. It was embarrassing and he did his best to hide these lapses in awareness. The disorientation was always worse after one of these dreams. Though he was too practiced to show he was having nightmares, this one was starting to get to him. It had been coming back again and again since that night when he watched his team die. One right after the other, unable to stop it, unable to even be sure it wasn’t himself pulling the trigger. Though they were safe, were still alive at least, he couldn’t shake the fear. It had been so real. And it had been his fault.
He tried to tell himself to let it go, that it was only a hallucination brought on by a chemical attack from a psychopath. A man who was now in prison, successfully captured by his very alive teammates while he sat uselessly on the floor, afraid to trust his senses. However, he couldn’t quite escape the nagging fear that Scratch didn’t surrender, that in the mess of it all he had gotten away. When he let himself think about it, it never made sense that a man so calculated, so many moves ahead of them, would simply give in. He couldn’t be sure that the surrender wasn’t one of the false memories.
There was no way to distinguish between them, the real and the nightmare. He could only convince himself that his team was alive by watching carefully as they breathed whenever they weren’t looking. By their heated bickering over who would ride where. Lately he had even relinquished the driver’s seat, worried that his loosely tethered mind might sweep them all off the road. He fixated on their little habits, certain that these were things his mind couldn’t make up, proof that his family was really there in front of him. The orange fingerprints on case files and every single coffee mug disappeared from the kitchenette, lost wherever Reid set them down before forgetting, caught up in some exciting train of thought. Things that might have frustrated him before became lifelines to reality, the reality he hoped with all his heart was true.
In the immediate days after the attack, he would ask Dave, quietly, for assurance that Peter Lewis was locked up, unable to harm his team. Dave was understanding, remembering how he had been that night, eyes full of loss. But the looks he gave Hotch grew longer and more worried with each repetition of the question. Now, again unsure, he was too ashamed to ask.
It had been so hard to keep things straight in his mind. For awhile he had been writing himself notes: “Peter Lewis is in prison.” Except he would find them again later, letters added, message changed, unable to tell if it was still his handwriting. It didn’t make sense for it to be someone else, fuck he kept these notes in his pockets, in his desk drawer, in his medicine cabinet. He couldn’t remember changing them though. Maybe that was what he had written in the first place. The confusion of the notes started making him feel worse so he stopped writing them. Every time he found another one, he tore it into tiny pieces, all the while trying to convince himself nothing was wrong with his behavior, nothing was wrong with his mind.
*
On Saturday, rare in its lack of crisis, Hotch was sitting on the couch, finally free to read a book while waiting for Jack to get home. He had been invited to a movie with some school friends. He started thinking about how relieved he was that Jack had friends to do normal things with and lost track of the story. As he scanned back, a little surprised how far he’d read without absorbing any information, his phone rang. His lungs constricted. Fear was always the first reaction to the phone ringing. He leaned forward to pick it up from the coffee table, brushing away his irrational feelings. It was Spencer. That was a little odd but not unheard of. Sometimes Spencer learned a new fact that only Hotch would appreciate and couldn’t wait until they got back to the office to share it. He smiled as he answered, anticipating an excited rush of speech. Instead there was silence.
“Hello?”
Nothing. He listened hard, not sure if he could hear breathing. There was some rustling, muffled and indistinct. Maybe Spencer dialed him by accident. He hung up and tried calling back. It rang without answer. He tried one more time but got the same result, the voicemail picking up quicker the second time. He told himself there was a mundane explanation but anxiety crawled like a spider up his neck. He was about to make another call, was trying to decide who was most likely to be helpful. Penelope? Derek? But then Jack walked in the door, hyped on candy and popcorn and wanting to repeat every joke from the movie. He let it go, if it was important Spencer would call back.
*
Monday morning and Spencer wasn’t in the office. Hotch had been there since 6 am, buried in paperwork, perpetually stuck in a state of catching up. He didn’t notice the absence until JJ came to ask him if he had any update from Spencer.
“Hmm? No, I haven’t heard from him. Update on what exactly?”
“Oh well he was supposed to come over for game night on Saturday but he said he wasn’t feeling well.” She assumed he was still sick, that he had called out. It was very unlike him to skip out on work, though perhaps he was just very unwell. Images of Spencer, pale and shaky, in the depths of his addiction, flashed through both of their memories and they exchanged looks. It had been so many years, and he did such a good job of pretending it never even happened, but they still remembered. It always came back whenever some uncertainty with Reid popped up.
“Have you tried calling him?” He tried to be logical, not everything needed to be the end of the world.
“Just goes to voicemail.” She raised her eyebrows at him, the silent question—what do we do boss?
He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He looked at the files covering his desk, he’d already put in several hours today, he could use a break.
“I’ll go check on him.”
She started to offer to go with him but he waved her off. If Reid was sick there was no reason for both of them to be exposed. If it was something else, well, it was probably better if Hotch was alone for that too. Just as he got to the elevator, Derek caught up with him.
“I hear you’re going to check on pretty boy,” he was trying to sound light-hearted.
Hotch made a noise in response.
“I’m coming with you.”
Hotch looked over at him and saw the steel behind the statement. He wasn’t asking. Neither one needed to say aloud the worry laying just beneath the surface. That dreaded what if that swam around in the back of all their minds. He gestured for Morgan to get in the elevator ahead of him.
*
They got to Spencer’s apartment with still no word from him. He didn’t answer when they knocked on the door and though neither wanted to admit it, they were starting to panic.
“He better be passed out on cough syrup,” Morgan muttered as he flipped through his keys to find Reid’s spare, still trying to mask his fear. When they got the door open the apartment was cold and empty. The blinds were closed and the room was dark. Once they flipped the lights on everything seemed normal though unoccupied. The apartment was relatively neat, stacks of books and papers operating as some kind of decor.
“Reid?” they called even though they could tell he wasn’t there. They wandered through the small apartment, checking for signs of their friend.
“Hotch!”
Hotch caught the edge of the door with his shoulder and swore as he hurried out of the bedroom to respond to Morgan’s distressed call. He was standing in the small kitchen, looking at the counter. On it were Reid’s keys, phone and wallet. They could have been tossed there upon his arrival. But wouldn’t he have taken them if he had gone somewhere?
“Where is he?” Morgan’s voice was tight.
Hotch shook his head, this didn’t make sense. He picked up the phone and saw the list of missed calls from the office, from JJ, from him. He unlocked it and checked, heart sinking as his fear was confirmed. The last call was to his own phone on Saturday evening.
“Call Garcia,” he said, checking Reid’s messages.
“What’s going on Hotch?” Morgan couldn’t take his eyes off Reid’s phone, the frantic way Hotch was scrolling through it.
He stopped and looked up. “I…I don’t know.” The images from his dream, his nightmare were threatening to envelop him. Reid crumpled on the ground, a gunshot still ringing, dark wood with rounded edges cradling his lifeless body. The phone screen blurred when he looked at it again and he dropped it on the counter, using his hands to hold himself up.
“Hey man, are you ok?” Derek started to move closer but Hotch turned away, effectively closing himself off.
“Call Garcia, we need to start a search.” And I need to get a grip, he thought as the world around him shifted disturbingly. If something was as wrong as it seemed, they would all be looking to him to solve it. He certainly couldn’t do that if he wasn’t even sure if he was clinging to the counter or the floor.
*
It was hours later when they finally got a lead. It was not the lead that they wanted. There was a report of a body matching his description at a morgue one town over. It had been pulled out of the river in the early hours on Sunday, spotted by a couple of unhappy fishermen. There had been no wallet, no ID, no way to figure out who he belonged to. They had put him down as a John Doe, a presumed suicide and he was being held until they could get around to trying to match dental records. Garcia teared up as she relayed the information to the rest of the team.
“That can’t be him! Are you sure?” Morgan spoke more harshly than he meant to, nerves frayed by hours of fending off worst case scenarios.
Garcia hesitated, holding a folder. “They sent pictures but…I can’t look. I’m sorry.” She started crying in earnest now.
“Oh baby girl,” Morgan put a hand gently on her shoulder and pulled the file away. He was reluctant to open it as well. Hotch saw this and quickly took the folder and walked to the other side of the table where he flipped it open. His mouth formed a grim line and he didn’t have to say anything for them to know. He was glad he took it, happy to spare them the sight of waxy pale skin, the only color a deep purple beneath his closed eyes and his startlingly blue lips. It looked like he was wearing make up, like this was just another Halloween look Spencer was testing out. Hotch stared at the picture a moment too long. This is real, he told himself.
“Aaron?” Dave tried to pull his attention back to the room of anxious agents. Even though they knew, there was still the tortured hope that if he didn’t say it out loud, it wasn’t true.
He sighed, “It’s Spencer.”
Garcia let out a sob and turned into the hug that Morgan wrapped around her. JJ, sitting at the table stared into the distance.
He tried to organize the facts, solidify them in his mind by repeating them silently to himself. He ran his hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he normally suppressed to avoid having it sticking out wildly.
“I’ll go formally identify the…” He couldn’t call Spencer a body. “I’ll go see when we can get him transferred to us.”
“I can come with you,” Dave offered but Hotch declined. Looking at the others he felt like they needed someone to stay with them that would ward off anything too impulsive. They were all stunned at the moment but the feeling in the room was unsettled.
“You’re wrong.” JJ spoke without looking at him, her gaze still fixed at a spot on the far end of the table. “Spence wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.”
He realized she was crying and felt a weight start to crush his chest. With effort he moved to where she sat, unable to find anything to say. He touched her hand but she jerked away, suddenly standing and glaring at him.
“You’re wrong,” she repeated before leaving quickly.
There was a hand at his elbow, squeezing gently. “I’ll go talk to her in a little bit. You should get going, it’s already late.”
He tried not to pull away too quickly as he nodded his thanks at Dave, who looked at him curiously.
“Are you sure you don’t want someone to come with you?”
“No, no. I’m fine. I can do it.” He hoped Dave would ignore the shake in his voice. He was fine, he could do this, he didn’t have a choice. He walked to his office to get his things, stopping for a moment to pull out Reid’s phone again. He needed to check the calls one more time, to confirm what he thought he remembered. Sure enough, his number remained the last outgoing call. He didn’t know if it was better or worse that it was real.
~Part 2~
#Criminal Minds#tw major character death#tw suicide mention#tw guns#aaron hotchner#derek morgan#penelope garcia#jj jareau#spencer reid#david rossi#dont hate me
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