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violet-1atte · 8 months

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Kinktober Day Twenty-One: Tentacles - Minho/Jeongin

Tags: Pirates, sea monsters, dom/sub undertones, top!Minho, bottom!Jeongin, oviposition, belly bulge, come inflation(?), mating, breeding, crying during sex, double penetration CW: Brief description of drowning (no one actually drowns!)

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When Jeongin was a child, his mother had always warned him not to go near the sea. “It’s too dangerous, Jeongin!” she would always say. “There are pirates and thieves and terrible storms and evil sea monsters. I don’t want you to get taken away from me.” Her warnings seemed to do little in changing the course of his life though. It had been years since Jeongin had seen her and he was a faithful member on board the pirate ship Stray Compass, led by the aptly named king of the sea, Bang Chan. Her warning against pirates now seemed only as a foreshadow of Jeongin’s future when he looked back on it.

He had long since stopped being afraid of sea monsters. He was curious about them, sometimes too curious, as Chan often warned him, but at the end of the day he lived in unbelief despite curiosity. Strange things in the water? Hallucinations from sleep deprivation. Huge waves? The storms he had been warned about. The storms were the only things that scared him now. Those were what could really take lives out on the sea.

He had always done his best to heed his mother’s warnings when it came to the sea. They were his captain’s and his crew mates’ warnings as well. But things couldn’t always go the way they were planned.

It was a huge storm and Jeongin was trying to bring down the sails so that the wind wouldn’t tear them or push them over. The rain was pouring down, soaking him to the bone, and the wood was wet. He could hear his crew mates shouting down below but couldn’t make out a word they were saying above the thundering rain and howling wind.

Then, a wave crashed over the ship. It tilted and Jeongin gasped as his foot slipped. And then he was falling. Falling, falling, the wind and rain rushing around him as he plummeted to the raging sea. In that moment all the warnings of his past came back to haunt him and as he screamed for someone to save him, to catch him, he wished he had listened.

The water was sharper than any knife Jeongin had had the misfortune of getting stabbed with. His first instinct was to gasp, but instead of air filling his lungs, water rushed in instead. The waves were too strong for him to find the surface and quickly he realized he was sinking. Sinking deeper into the deep, dark depths of the sea as he thrashed around to find a way back up.

As he felt the strength in his limbs giving out and head going fuzzy, something wrapped around his leg. He barely had any time to register the feeling before something was pushing past his lips and into his mouth. He would have tried to fight it but his body had no fight left. Whatever it was filled Jeongin’s mouth with something sticky and the substance traveled down his throat and into his lungs. The substance coated the insides of his lungs and figured that this was his moment to die, this was how he would end–eaten by one of those sea creatures he had never fully believed in but almost wished were real–then out of nowhere, the burning in his lungs stopped.

He sucked in a sharp breath and instead of feeling like he was breathing in molten lava, his lungs expanded, his head got less fuzzy, and the tingling in his limbs subsided. He was breathing again despite being surrounded by water. He should have been dead.

He didn’t have enough time to think about how he was breathing underwater before whatever had wrapped around his leg and pushed into his mouth wrapped also around his torso and his arms. There were more than two and they suctioned to Jeongin’s skin. He couldn’t pull away even if he tried. Then he began to move and he realized he was being pulled through the water. This thing is trying to kill me. It's going to drag me to the depths and eat me, he thought in a panic. The water rushing around him was almost painful as he was dragged through it at an inhuman speed. The panic that had settled into his bones when he realized he was drowning had returned.

Thankfully, to his great relief and surprise, whatever this thing was, was not dragging him deeper. After what seemed like ages, Jeongin suddenly started to see faint light filling the water. He could make out the outline of the creature now and–was that a man with tentacles?

He didn’t have to ask for long because suddenly he was being tossed up onto shore and he hit the ground with a loud thud. The sand dug into his skin and he groaned and then the burning in his lungs was back. He started coughing and pushed himself up onto his hands and knees as all the water trapped inside him spilled out. “Fuck,” he croaked after the coughing fit left him, his throat burned raw. “What the hell was that…”

His question was answered quickly as he looked up and looked around and his eyes landed on a man–not a man. It was some sort of creature, one that had a human face (arguably the most pretty face Jeongin had ever seen), and a human body–except for the purple color of his arms and legs and the fucking tentacles that protruded from his torso.

Jeongin scrambled back, the sand sticking to his wet skin. “What–what are you?” he asked, voice shaking. The creature tilted his head and began walking towards Jeongin, tentacles raised in the air so they didn’t drag on the ground.

“I’m Minho,” the creature responded and Jeongin’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. He could speak too? He smiled at Jeongin’s reaction and another shock of fear stabbed Jeongin’s chest when he saw that its teeth were sharp. All of them. “Ah you can understand me! Good, it worked then.”

What fucking worked???

Jeongin realized he said that out loud when the creature made some sort of laugh that probably would have been charming to Jeongin if he weren’t scared out of his mind. “What I gave you to help you breathe under the water. It also allows humans to understand us.”

“Oh…” Realization dawned on Jeongin. “You saved me.”

“I did, yes. I can’t let a perfectly good human just go to waste like that! Especially when I was right there. I’ve been observing you for a long time. Very pretty human.”

Jeongin’s brain short circuited. Perfectly good human? Observing him for a long time…? Pretty?? “Huh–what I’m sorry I–I’m confused. Why–why were you watching me? What…?”

“Oh! You’d be a perfect mate. That’s why,” Minho stated as if it were the most normal statement in the world. “Very pretty, very strong. You have many people to protect you who seem quite loyal. You’d be perfect to care for my babies.”

Jeongin’s mind was reeling. “Babies?” he exclaimed. “I can’t have children, I’m a man! And I just met you! I don’t–what?”

Minho stepped closer and one of his tentacles slithered up Jeongin’s leg. Jeongin shivered and something sparked in his stomach and–wait what the fuck? Another tentacle came to wrap around his waist and he wanted to pull away, he really did. But he didn’t. The creature was ridiculously handsome and there was something alluring about him, but maybe he had put something in whatever substance he’d given him to make him breathe.

“Silly, you wouldn’t be having the children. I’d put my eggs inside you. You’d incubate them for me. And I saved your life, right? I save your life, you become my mate!”

Jeongin wasn’t sure how he had reached that conclusion but he was ready to wake up from this dream. It wasn’t a nightmare, at least not now. Because even though he was highly weirded out and still a little scared, he wasn’t terrified. What had that creature done to him? “I don’t–that’s not how it works. You can’t just–mate someone out of nowhere!” How would that even work? Did he have a weird dick that he would push the eggs into him with? Would he use his tentacles? They’d have to go so deep–oh. Jeongin swallowed and wet his lips. There was no way he was getting hard right now.

Minho pouted and the tentacle wrapped around his waist began to slide underneath his soaked shirt. Another shiver ran through Jeongin’s body and his nipples began to harden. “But it’s not out of nowhere. I told you I’ve been watching you for a long time. I know you’d be perfect! Please? I’ve never been able to find a mate…My eggs always have to die.” He looked so sad suddenly that Jeongin’s heart clenched. Fuck. He swallowed as he looked down at the tentacles going over his body. They felt good. He certainly wasn’t entirely against the whole thing, judging by how his pants were tented with the outline of his cock.

Fuck, this was insane.

“I…I don’t know…” Jeongin trailed off. His mother’s warnings flashed in his head. Beware of sea creatures.

He found he didn’t really want to listen anymore.

“Alright,” he said, swallowing thickly. His chest prickled with fear but another part of him was curious. So curious, like Chan always warned him against. Why were people in his life always giving him warnings? Didn’t they know that only made his desires more intense? “I can be your mate.”

A grin spread across Minho’s face and he licked his lips. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Another tentacle shot out to join the other one under Jeongin’s shirt and together they both pulled it up. Jeongin lifted his arms as his shirt was tugged off and tossed somewhere on the sand. One of the tentacles traveled up to his chest and a slick substance followed behind it. The tentacle stopped at his chest and then one of the cups on the underside suctioned to his nipple and Jeongin moaned. “Shit!” he gasped, back arching. Minho was still smiling at him and he tilted his head at Jeongin’s reaction.

“Pretty,” he mumbled.

Another pair of tentacles joined together below Jeongin’s waist and began working to get his pants off. How many did he have? They seemed to be very tactile because it didn’t take them long to get his pants all the way off. Jeongin’s cock bobbed up and slapped against his stomach and Minho licked his lips as he looked down at it curiously. “Hmm yours looks different…pretty.” Jeongin didn’t have time to question what he met because then one of his tentacles was wrapping around his cock. Jeongin let out a strangled moan.

“Ohhh my gods,” Jeongin exclaimed, eyes squeezing shut. The tentacle was slick and wet and sticky and unlike anything Jeongin had ever felt. His entire body felt like a live wire ready to combust. More tentacles made their way over Jeongin’s body, crawling up his sides, suctioning to his thighs, playing with his nipples, wrapping around his throat to prod at his mouth. There were so many sensations it was overwhelming and Jeongin felt like he was going to pass out.

One of Minho’s tentacles made its way up Jeongin’s inner thigh, a trail of purple slick left behind. Then the tip began to prod at his hole and his mouth fell open. At the same time, the tentacle that had been at his mouth shoved its way in and Jeongin’s eyes rolled back. It tasted salty like the ocean but there was also a hint of sweetness that made it intoxicating. He realized he’d tasted it when he’d been under the water.

The tentacle at his hole swirled around it for a second before it began to push inside of him. Jeongin let out a muffled whine around the tentacle in his mouth and spread his legs. The tip of the tentacle was no bigger than two fingers but as it pushed in it got bigger and bigger. Jeongin choked and dug his fingers into the sand.

“I was worried you wouldn’t take me,” Minho said as he pushed his tentacle deeper. Jeongin’s vision went blurry as his hole stretched around the intrusion. “But you’re doing so well.”

The tentacle pushed deeper, deeper, until it brushed against Jeongin’s prostate and he made a guttural sound around the tentacle in his mouth. It continued moving even past that until when Jeongin looked down he could see a slight bulge on his stomach. His head fell back and he took deep breaths in through his nose.

Minho’s eyes locked on the bulge in his tummy and removed the tentacle from his mouth. Jeongin gasped, moans flowing freely as he began to pump the tentacle in and out of him. “So small,” Minho mused. He reached out with his hand and pet over the bump on Jeongin’s stomach. “Gonna look so pretty when I fill you up.”

“Nghhh shit, oh fuck,” Jeongin moaned. Minho was so deep, practically in his stomach. He didn’t even know why he had been against this initially. Any rational thought had left his mind. He just wanted to be filled. Wanted to see his stomach expand as Minho fucked his tentacles into him and filled him with his eggs.

“Such a pretty human,” Minho mumbled. “Truly perfect…” Another tentacle moved to press against his rim and Jeongin gasped, eyes going wide.

“That’s not–that’s not going to fit,” he whimpered, but Minho continued pushing anyway.

“It will fit. I promise,” he reassured. The tip of that tentacle slid past his rim and the stretch burned. Jeongin choked on a moan and his eyes stung with tears. The pain quickly mixed with pleasure so intense Jeongin felt like he was going to fall apart. Minho was very surely breaking him. There was no way he could live normally after this.

It wasn’t long before Jeongin could see the imprint of both tentacles in his stomach. He reached out with a shaky hand and pressed down, felt them move under his palm. “S-so full,” he groaned. He had never been this full in his life.

“You’re going to be fuller soon,” Minho said with an amused grin. Jeongin’s eyes rolled back as Minho began to fuck both tentacles into him, while at the same time he explored Jeongin’s body with the rest of his tentacles. There were marks sucked all over his skin from the suckers on Minho’s tentacles and there were tentacles wrapped around his thighs, his arms, his waist, all holding him in place. His whole body tingled and his stomach burned hot with arousal like he’d never felt. It was so much, so so much.

Without a warning his body spasmed and he orgasmed, his cock twitching weakly as ropes of cum shot over his body. Minho wrapped a tentacle around his cock as he came and Jeongin’s hips jerked away from the overstimulation. The tentacle squeezed, practically milking him through it. “Mm-Minho 's too much,” he hiccuped. At some point the tears had started running freely down his face. Oh gods…

“Shh, pretty human, doing so well. Just gotta get you nice and open to take my eggs,” he mumbled. Jeongin wanted to whine, to cry out that he already was open! Minho was splitting him in two, he was stretched beyond belief. But Minho didn’t wait much longer after that, and all the sudden his tentacles were slithering back out. Jeongin whined pathetically at the loss and his gaping hole clenched around nothing.

“Please…” he whimpered, unsure what he was even asking for. Slick from Minho’s tentacles ran out of his hole and coated his thighs, leaving Jeongin feeling wet and dirty. He’d never particularly liked that feeling but now it was heaven.

“You’ll be a good little thing and take my eggs right?” Minho said, one of the tentacles around Jeongin’s thigh tightening. He nodded his head, too dumb to form a proper response. “Good.”

Jeongin looked down through hooded eyes and his breath hitched at the tentacle that wrapped around Minho’s front. This one was different from the others–wider and shorter, and covered bumped where the other tentacles had been smooth. It registered to Jeongin that this must have been his ovipositor and he was about to be filled with Minho’s eggs. This thought should’ve led to panic, should have led to the initial feelings of apprehension he had. But in the moment he wanted nothing more than what was about to happen.

The tentacles on his thighs spread his legs wider and the tip of the ovipositor slipped past Jeongin’s rim. It was already as big as the two tentacles combined and as it went deeper he felt like the wind got knocked out of them. Minho’s eyebrows were furrowed together and he was biting his lip as he pushed in, the stimulation clearly pleasurable for him as well. Jeongin could hear his heavy breaths and that only made the fire in Jeongin’s stomach burn hotter.

“Fu-uckk,” Jeongin choked, digging his hands deeper into the sand. “S-so–so bi-igg.” He was sure this one would tear him in two. There was no way it could fit. He could feel the bumps from the eggs rubbing along his walls, rubbing against his sensitive prostate, stretching him further. The rest of Minho’s tentacles worked to touch him elsewhere–one jerked his weeping cock while another two played with his nipples. It was mind-numbing. “I can’t, I can’t, it’s too m-much hnngg…” At this point he was practically sobbing, his words coming out more like choked gasps and moans.

Minho smirked and there was a small amount of blood on his lips from where he had bitten them hard. “You can. It’s already in. Look at how your tiny little stomach is full.” He pressed down on Jeongin’s abdomen and his whole body jerked.

“Sh-shit, oh fuck!,” he gasped.

“So pretty,” Minho hummed. He grinned, flashing his sharp teeth and leaned forward to grab Jeongin’s hips. “I’m going to start filling you now.”

Jeongin was too dazed to process what he was saying, but he didn’t need to. He felt it the second it started, the way Minho’s tentacles tightened around his limbs and suctioned to him, and oh, the way his insides felt as Minho began pumping him full. It felt like cum at first, hot and wet, but then the eggs started moving. They spilled inside of him and Jeongin felt them moving along his walls. They stretched his stomach and he watched as Minho literally filled him up. He felt like the breath had been sucked from his lungs and all he could do was moan helplessly.

When Minho deposited the last egg inside him, a large spurt of hot liquid filled his insides alongside and drool ran down Jeongin’s chin. Minho made little groans that were like music to Jeongin’s ears as he finished inside of him and filled his stomach with warmth alongside the warmth of being so full. “There,” Minho mumbled finally, his voice a bit rough. He ran his hand over Jeongin’s stomach and smiled. “Nice and full of my babies now.”

Jeongin looked down at himself and ran his hands over top. “Oh my gods,” he breathed, wetting his lips. “I look–I look–”

“Bred. Mated. My mate,” Minho said happily, a proud smile resting on his face.

Jeongin nodded. He couldn’t believe this had happened. He had mated a sea monster. He knew his life was full of surprises but nothing could have prepared him for this. “Stay away from the sea,” his mother had said. Pirates and thieves, storms, and sea creatures. Every warning disobeyed. Jeongin silently sent a prayer of apology upwards.

“Wh-what–” Jeongin croaked, shocked by how raw his voice sounded. “What do I do now?”

“You stay safe. Take care of yourself,” Minho said, running his hands and his tentacles over the bump of Jeongin’s belly. “Then when the time comes, you’ll push the eggs out and they will hatch. And be our babies.” Minho chirped as he touched his tummy and Jeongin was struck with how cute the happy little sound was.

“Okay…but what about my crew? How do I get back to them?”

“I will bring them to you,” Minho reassured him. “Only you promise they won’t look for me. Or hurt me. Or you.” He frowned deeply. “Humans can be scary.”

Jeongin sighed softly and nodded. He knew that fact well. “Alright, you’ll be safe. They wouldn’t hurt you anyway. Just make sure I get back to them.”

Minho nodded and smiled, showing his fangs again. A little shiver ran down Jeongin’s spine. “Don’t worry. I will. But first, pretty human needs shelter.”

“Jeongin,” he said quickly. “My name’s Jeongin.”

Minho’s smile grew. “Okay. Jeongin needs shelter. Come with me.” So Jeongin gathered his clothes off the ground and dusted the sand off of himself. It felt strange to stand in this state and he was sore and exhausted. And after taking one glance at him, Minho grabbed him with the combined strength of his arms and tentacles and picked him up, carrying him to wherever the best place for shelter would be.

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vyyom · 3 months

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Tied up!

✩°｡ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ minsung ࿐ྂ

┌ Pairing: Lee Know X Han Jisung ┌ Summary: It’s Minho’s b’day and Jisung has a little something prepared just for him. ┌ Warnings: Rough sex, tease!Minho, dirty talk, multiple rounds, sex toys, marking, unprotected ( don't hate me :3), feet fetish, praising kink (lmk in the tags) ┌ Word Count: 1.4K+ words ┌ a/n: My English is not good. Let me know all the mistakes. This was originally inspired by the scene where Han was presented as Lino’s b’day present and was wearing a ribbon. Imma go now.

“Happy Birthday, Minho!” Everyone shouted, jumping in front of me.

I laughed at the surprise. All the doctors, nurses and even the patients were present but, in the centre, Jisung was standing there with a grin on his face. I walked upto him and leaned closer.

“Did you plan all this?” I whisper.

“Surprise!” He grinned, his hair strands falling in front of his face.

Pushing the strands behind his ear, I give him a soft kiss, “Thank you.”

As I’m about to let go, he pulls me by my nape and whispers, “I have another surprise for you. It’s a bit ‘private’.”

I look into his eyes and redness spreads all over his face. Smiling, I nod and take him to the centre. The psychiatry centre joins me with the celebration. After helping me to distribute all the treats to the people present there, Jisung walks up to me.

“I have work, I need to leave.” He pouts, “Come home by 10 PM sharp.”

I nod, smirking and kiss him before bidding farewell. We both have busy schedules these days, especially after the company was handed to him.

I do my usual rounds, checking on the patients and go over the charting for the nurses. The work is hectic as usual but today it seems like the time is going too slow. My restlessness shows even in the coffee breaks and I can’t simply wait to return home. As soon as the clock struck thirty minutes past nine, I quickly wave everyone and rush outside the hospital. I start the engine and hit the road, all the while making calls to my usual departmental store. Covering the distance in 10 minutes, I pick up my order and thank them.

By the time I’m in the lift, my hands are shaking with excitement and my heart is beating rapidly. Only when I go to knock on the door of our apartment, I realise it’s already open. Stepping over the threshold, I blink to adjust my eyes to the dark.

“Jisung-ah?” I call, trying to figure out.

“Minho.” It comes out as a whimper.

I walk into the living room and switch on the lights. When my eyes adjust, I realise there’s a box in the middle of the room. Quite big and fan- Did it just move?

“Jisung?”

“H-Here.” A low whisper comes out from the box.

I’m literally panting by the time I pull open the purple ribbons and the huge box falls apart from all the side. In there lies Jisung, looking like a mess and blushing hard.

“You are the surprise?” I ask, still dazed.

“Ye-yes.” He blushes hard, “Don’t you li-like it?”

I smirk, “Oh I like it very much.”

He squirms, looking at me and I realise what he has done. Breathing hard, I cover my mouth and feel my dick tightening inside my pants.

He is wrapped in red ribbons from head to toe but that is not what is surprising. His nipples are clamped. As soon as he opens his legs, I see the vibrator rammed up his pretty asshole and gasp. Only the red ribbon is holding up the vibrator and covering his dick. I thought I couldn’t be more surprised but then I hear the low buzzing of the vibrator.

“Horny, are we?” I smirk, crouching down.

“Min-Minho~” He moans, squirming.

His hands aren’t tied thankfully, which makes me think how did he do this but for now, I push it to the back of my mind. He just looks so erotic and inviting.

Fuck.

I pick him up and throw him on the bed. His face is red and tears are streaming down his face. I unbutton my shirt, rather slowly, teasing him to the brink. He shudders by the vibrations and still I don’t touch him.

"Beg."

He moans and shudders on the bed but doesn’t cum. I like the fact that only I can make him cum.

He moans, “Jagiya, please~”

“Please what, Love?” I say, climbing over him.

“Please fuck me.” He shudders.

“Good boy.” I smirk.

Climbing over him, I trace my fingers over his nips and he moans, sensitive to my touch. With slow agony, I unwrap my present.

"You want it rough, huh?" I smirk, pulling hard on the nipple clamps.

He moans and I take that as an agreement.

I kiss him on the forehead softly, and then pull the ribbon that covers his whole body and just like that it comes undone. His hard cock springs up - precum already leaking through. The vibrator is dangerously close to being thrown out of his asshole and I laugh, as I shove it deeper.

He groans, throwing his head back but still doesn't come.

"You are holding quite good, today." I chuckle.

Pulling him up by his lean waist, I tie his wrists with the ribbon and secure to the headboard, then kiss him messily. Saliva glistens on his soft lips and I relish the fact on how hot he looks.

"Fuck me." He moans, squirming his ass.

I push the vibrator inside a bit more and then with a hard tug, release his nips from the clamps. His nipples are red and hard, arousing me even more.

Starting from his neck, I leave a trail of hickeys all the way down to his collarbones and shoulders. His back arches beautifully and somehow his cock gets harder. Pulling his leg over my shoulder, I lick his bare toes.

"Just fuck me already, you motherfucker." He yells, tears streaming down his face.

I laugh and increase the vibrator.

"Darling, you toned it down huh?" I chuckle, "Well now you can cum."

He groans, whimpers and moans while the vibrator basically fucks his ass, deep. I flip him and push his face in the mattress. Just like a good boy in heat, he lifts his ass up.

"Please touch me, Minho." He cries.

He shudders and within a minute, he cums all over the bed. I laugh, slapping his ass once.

"Fuck me."

"Shh."

I lick behind his ear and bite his nape. He shudders under me, while I go all the way down to his spine, softly licking him. I shove my fingers inside his mouth.

"Suck."

He does, his saliva covering my fingers all the way. First, I release him from the headboard and pull him to me. He basically purrs as my dick rubs on his ass, stimulating him more. Locking his hands behind my neck, I touch his dick, slowly rubbing with my hands. Pushing on the tip of his head, I play with his balls with my other hand. He throws his head, his eyes rolling back and I chuckled lowly.

"Time to take it."

"Yes. Oh Shit." He moans, rubbing his ass on my groin.

He is so insatiable like a slut in heat.

Pulling out the vibrator, I push my fingers inside his asshole and damn, he is so loose, he could fucking as well take the whole vibrator and my dick nicely.

"You are so fucking hot, Sung." I mumble.

Without waiting for a response, I shove my dick inside him. He moans loudly and turns his head back to kiss me. Biting his lips, I keep fucking him from behind while my hands work on his dick, constantly rubbing him more.

I can feel him close to cumming, so I leave his dick and slide my hands to his neck, choking him enough to make him gag. His ass tightens around my cock and I push more until I hit his soft spot. He groans, his moans growing louder and his body frail under my hands.

"Cum with me." I whisper, increasing the friction.

"M-Minho." He whimpers, biting my lips hard.

Pulling his hair, I tilt his head back and bite his collarbone, stimulating his nips again and this time, I can feel my dick growing inside of him.

"More." He yells, holding onto my neck tighter, "Fuckk! I'm gonna cum."

With one last deep shove, I cum inside him, we both screaming each other's name. I cum over his whole body as we both pant with the effect.

"Damn, Minho." He chuckles, "That was so good."

I laugh, untying him, "I was planning to do that."

He kisses me again on the lips, this time softly and more sensually. I smile against his mouth, while I pick him up in my arms but he pishes me and I pout.

"I have more surprises." He chuckles, "You seriously didn't think we were cumming only once?"

With that, he walk over to his closet and brings out a bag. Flipping it over, tons of sex toys - riding crop, floggers, anal plug, blindfold, collar and more falls on the bed and I stare in shock.

"Well, let's start." I grin.

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margaretwilly · 6 days

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Good morning Everyone it’s a new day

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solastalgiart · 4 months

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🪶succumb

the tragedy of this hellsite not allowing e-rated art posts is,,,tragic. if you’d like to see the full version, you can also flip through the minchan digital zine (with even more spicy minchan fanworks!) — gdrive | heyzine

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cuntyqueer · 8 months

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cyber sex

pairing: Lee Minho (Lee Know) x Reader

genre: smut

warnings: cyber sex; mutual masturbation; praise; receiving instructions; needy minho

thanks for reading and give me a follow if you like all things queer, kpop, marvel, smut, sexy shit and/or a mix of it all 🫶🏾 [18+ only]

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Minho had been on tour for nearly two weeks, and you already missed him like crazy. You missed his smile, and his laugh, and his smell. You missed his warmth; the way he held you; the way he touched you. You let your mind wander as you remembered the way his body felt against yours; the way his fingers would trace across your skin when you laid together. The way his bulge would push against your back when he wrapped his arms around you from behind; the way he felt in your mouth when…

The familiar ring of your phone shook you out of your daydream. You sat up and grabbed it off the coffee table in front of you. It was him.

“Hi baby!” you answered ecstatically. No response came from the other end of the line. “Baby?” you asked; waiting to hear his pretty voice. However, instead of his pretty voice, you heard a soft, deep moan.

“Baby?” you asked again, both curious and amused.

Another deep moan flowed from his lips followed by, “Princess, I need you.” A spine shivered down your spine as you realized what was going on.

“Oh, is that so?” you answered.

“Yes, I miss you so much. It’s been so long since I had you.” Sharp moans escaped his lips, and you imagined the way he has touching himself. If you couldn’t touch him, the least you could do was see him… and let him see you.

You clicked the FaceTime button and waited for his video to connect. The first thing you saw was his dick on the screen. You gasped.

There were always rumors going around among the fans that Minho was large. Of course, you could never confirm publicly, but they weren’t wrong. He was longer than most and thick. Although you had already been a little wet, the sight made your underwear soak.

You set your phone up against a vase on the table so that he could get a full view of you from your place on the couch. He set his phone up at the end of his bedframe. You both just looked at each other for a few seconds as you took each other in. He was so hot and it was hard not to get lost in his beauty.

“Hi pretty,” he mused, as he continued rubbing his length. “Can I see more of you?”

“Of course,” you smiled.

You pushed the table further away so he could see you as you stood. You had on an oversized hoodie and your comfy underwear. Although it wasn’t the cutest outfit, you knew you could make it work for you. You started by slowly removing your underwear; making sure to bend over towards the camera and step out of them one leg at a time.

He moaned at the sight. “Fuck.” He leaned his head back against his headboard. You continued to strip by pulling the hoodie sensually over your head. When your breasts came into view, his dick twitched in longing anticipation; precum coating his tip.

You got back on the couch and placed your chest against the seat’s fabric, slowly arching your back in the process. His hand continued to caress his dick, but now at a faster and more consistent pace. You knew he couldn’t see all of you at the direct angle the phone was placed, so you turned your back towards the camera and placed your hands on the back of the couch. The long groan that reached your ears let you know when your pussy was in direct view. You whined your hips toward the screen, earning the praises you had so deeply missed. “Mm, my girl is sooo sexy. Look at that pretty pussy.” You whimpered, feeling the tightening in your core.

“Can you play with your pussy for me? Can you touch yourself like you want me to touch you?” You squirmed at the thought of his touch. You turned back around and sat on the couch; pulling the coffee table, and your phone, closer to you. You opened your legs and placed them on the table so that he got a good view.

You were already wet and dripping; a tiny puddle forming on the fabric. You made eye contact with him as you placed two fingers against your clit. A sharp moan escaped your lips. “Good girl.” He praised, “Keep going.” You began to grind your hips against your fingers; closing your eyes to take in every sensation that shot through your body and listening for the soft, deep moans that came from your audience. He was so hard and you could see him trying to hold himself together.

Your needy moans turned into desperate whines as you felt yourself coming to the edge. “Princess…,” your hips twitched at the name. “Y-yes?”

“Can you finger yourself for me?” Your pussy clenched around nothing at the suggestion.

“How much of me can you take, baby? Two fingers? Maybe three? Let me see what you can do, pretty.”

You opened your hips wider and slowly slipped three fingers in; shifting to adjust to the immediate stretch.

“Ughhhh. Fuck me.” The words were out of your mouth before you could even think.” He began pumping his dick faster as he watched your fingers sliding in and out of your pussy with ease.

“Yes, that’s my pretty girl. Do you like riding me? Do you like when I’m deep inside of you.”

Your brain went fuzzy as his words and your pleasure reached their climax. Loud moans filled the room as you both released together.

Your body relaxed into the couch as you caught your breath. Minho did the same; a sly smile creeping onto his lips. You sat up and grabbed the phone off the table.

“What are you smiling about?” you teased.

“I just really missed you, and that felt… really good. I needed that.”

You smiled. “I really needed that, too. Maybe… can we do this more often while you’re on tour?

“Of course, princess. I’d really love that,” he responded. He laid on his side and pulled the phone close so you could see just his face. You did the same.

Before long, you both fell asleep with the comfort of the other on the screen.

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toysheepisneedy · 2 years

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One of those nights where the longing for true hedonism overtakes. Wanting to not work anymore ever again just living as someone's spoiled lapdog getting to sleep at the foot of my masters bed, getting lots of headpats and praise, waiting at home for master to return from whatever obligations and hobbies he has not even having to consider facing the outside world thanks to not being allowed to go there alone at all. Occasionally being taken for walks in the park or to go shop for necessities together. Just the good life... No more thinking no more responsibility outside of making my master happy just me, master and quiet peace

#y e a r n i n g #queer nsft #mlm nsft #transmasc nsft #is it too obvious i wanted to be a hikkikomori as a kid?#please someone pick up this stray

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little-ev · 8 months

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Hi! I just wanted to post about how I’m open to requests about writing Sfw age regression fics!

I will write about:

Supernatural

Stray kids

The Walking Dead

Alice in Borderland

If you want me to write something not listed here you can totally ask me and I will see if I can fulfill your request!

I wont be writing anything where there’s reader insert. It’s just not something I enjoy writing so I will not be doing it. I’m sorry :(

Anyways, if you’d like you can request something!

#age regression #age regressor #ao3 fanfic #ao3 author #request #nsft dni #sfw littlespace #sfw agere #stray kids agere #supernatural agere #Alice in borderland agere

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aegyo-ahegao · 1 year

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pubby

#kpop nsft #kpop #nsft kpop #nsft stray kids #not safe for minors #han jisung #kpop smut #stray kids #nsft puppy #nsft han

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violet-1atte · 8 months

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Kinktober Day Four: Monsterfucking - Chan/Felix

Tags: Demon!Chan, summoning, demon summoning, abnormal genitalia, no lube, mild pain kink, dom/sub undertones, bottom!Felix, top!Chan, dom!Chan, mild fear play

I forgot to post this lmao

AO3 Link

This was a bad idea. Felix knew that very well. He wasn’t the brightest but he had a pretty good head on his shoulders. He was smart and he did well enough in school. He just wasn’t always the best at thinking logically, which he was told often. In this situation, he knew that logically, he probably shouldn’t be doing this. He just went against his better thinking.

Felix set the summoning book he had bought from some shady guy on the internet on his bed, open to the page he wanted. The book listed countless summoning spells and for all kinds of different entities, but Felix had one in particular in mind. An incubus. To put it lightly, Felix was desperate. He lived in a small, rural area and went to a small university and the prospects there were little to none. No one knew how to fuck him the way he wanted to be fucked and he was so sexually frustrated he could cry. His friend Jisung had offered a helping hand, as bros of course, but Jisung was far more submissive than Felix was and the exact opposite of what he needed. Of course, Jisung probably didn’t mean for him to take it literally when he said that at this point he should summon an incubus to come help him, but Felix took it that way.

He honestly didn’t fully believe it would work. If it didn’t work then no one had to know he had such a deep lapse in judgment and he could move on with his life, forever sexually frustrated. If it did work, he could possibly end up with the best fuck of his life and never be the same again. He could also end up accidentally selling his soul to the devil, but that was something for his future soul to worry about. And because of the parts of him that did not believe in this whole thing in the first place, he wasn’t all that worried. He really should have been more worried.

He took a deep breath, double checking that everything in his summoning circle was set up correctly. His heart was racing and his palms were sweating and he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing up, but he wasn’t backing out. He was going to do this.

Once he had everything set up, he picked up the book and began to read. The words sounded like gibberish and his voice wobbled as he spoke, sounding all too loud in the quiet room. His hands shook a little as his words echoed back to him, bouncing off the walls. The flames on the candles he had lit flickered and yet there was no wind. The closer he got to being done with the incantation, the more his heart raced and his stomach swooped with nervousness. He could feel something, something strong, like something was waiting for him behind an invisible wall that he was about to break.

As soon as he reached the end of the spell there was…nothing. His room was just as quiet as it had been before he started speaking. The candles had stopped flickering, leaving Felix to wonder if it was just his imagination.

He sighed and closed the book. “Bummer,” he muttered to himself. He knelt down to begin putting out the candles so that he could put everything away, but out of nowhere, a breeze swirled around him and blew all the candles out. He didn’t even have his window opened.

He shivered and swallowed thickly, slowly moving to stand up. Goosebumps rose all over his arms and he held his breath, waiting. Then, the floor began to shake. “Shit–” he gasped, reaching out for something to grab as he stumbled backwards. His light began to flicker and the air in the room started to heat up. He began to sweat and he couldn’t tell if it was from the fear or from the heat in the room. A disembodied laugh followed the heat and Felix’s breathing picked up. He shouldn’t have done this. He should have known it would be a bad idea, it would be dangerous. He hoped his mom and Jisung knew he loved them.

The laugh grew louder and Felix started backing up, preparing to run. Before he could move another muscle though, something invisible held him back and flames erupted from the middle of the circle he’d created. Tears sprung to his eyes as the flames grew higher, heating his skin. He was going to die.

He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, willing himself to be strong. If he didn’t think, it would all be over soon. The earth would be rid of his stupidity and he would hopefully make it to the afterlife. But then the scalding heat of the fire was gone, and the room was cool again.

But there was another presence.

Felix felt a warm hand on his cheek and what felt like claws scraping along his skin. His heart thundered loudly against his chest.

“Why do you look so scared, pretty? You did call for me, didn’t you?”

Felix exhaled shakily and slowly opened his eyes. As soon as he did, he let out a gasp. The creature was mere inches away from his face and he was all parts beautiful and terrifying. His eyes were an inky black and they bored into his soul, swallowing him up. Black curly hair fell across his forehead and two blood-red horns jutted out from the top of his head, bending and curling at the ends. They were long and sharp and could probably kill a man in an instant. Kill him.

Now that his eyes were open he could tell that what had felt like claws on his skin were claws. The skin on his hand went from a caramel tan to the same deep red that his horns were on his fingers which extended into sharp claws, like a lion’s. The creature was smiling at him too, and he had two sharp fangs that looked like they could tear into flesh like it was nothing. The mere sight sent chills of fear down Felix’s spine.

“I…uhm,” Felix attempted, gulping. “W-what–who are you?” His voice sounded oddly airy and high for how deep it normally was.

“You really summoned me without knowing that?” the creature asked, raising a condescending eyebrow at Felix. Felix’s hands clenched at his sides. “Well…I think it’s pretty obvious what I am. I’m a demon, if you haven’t guessed already,” he said, stroking Felix’s cheek with his clawed fingers. His stomach flipped, and it wasn’t from fear. “And I’ve been called many names over the centuries. But you can call me Chan.” His smile widened and Felix’s eyes were drawn to the dimples that formed on his cheeks, contrasting the rest of his terrifying appearance.

“Chan,” Felix repeated with a meek nod. “I–so–” Felix wondered if the creature–demon–knew why he had called him in the first place. Because despite the fear rattling his bones and the anxiety twisting his stomach into knots, Felix was still oddly drawn to him. He had gorgeous tan skin and a body that looked like it had been sculpted by the ancient Greeks and oh–Felix just realized he was entirely naked. “Do you–do you know why I–why I asked you here?”

Chan hummed, pulling back a bit as he thought. “No. Only you can know your intentions. So why do you want me here?” he asked, leaning in again. “Do you need revenge on someone? Protection? Was this just curiosity, maybe? Or foolishness.” He laughed and it twisted Felix’s insides deliciously. Oh he was so stupid. This was insane. He was insane.

“None of those things, actually,” he said. His voice still quivered but he felt a little more confident. “I–I was attempting to summon an–an incubus,” he said.

The demon’s eyebrows raised and his lips curved upwards into a smirk. “Oh…So that’s why.” He laughed again and shook his head. “Humans these days…so desperate we don’t even have to do any of the tempting.”

Felix bit back an embarrassing whimper at that and his cheeks heated up. A demon–a fucking demon–was calling him desperate. If a creature of sin was telling him he was desperate then it must be true. And Felix would be lying if he said that didn’t make hot waves of arousal pool in his belly.

He didn’t say anything as he watched Chan’s eyes roam over him, igniting his skin in flames hotter than the ones that had brought Chan there in the first place. “I was desperate,” he admitted, wetting his lips. “I couldn’t–I couldn’t find anyone who was good enough. I w-wasn’t satisfied,” he continued. “They were all too soft. Too gentle.”

“Hm,” Chan hummed. The hand that was on Felix’s cheek slid down to cup the side of his neck. Felix’s pulse raced against his fingers. “And that made you desperate enough to summon a demon?”

Felix swallowed and nodded quickly. Fuck it really did sound pathetic when it was said out loud.

Chan looked over again, his black eyes scanning over his figure. He looked up again to meet Felix’s eyes. “Are you scared? You were shaking when I arrived.”

He licked his lips. “Terrified,” he whispered.

The grin the demon offered in response sent blood rushing to Felix’s cock and his legs shook. “Good,” he said lowly. “I wouldn’t be doing my job right if you weren’t scared.” He caressed Felix’s pulse point with his thumb.

“And will you–” Felix took a deep breath to steady his voice. “Will you do what–what I summoned you for?”

“Well I’m not an incubus,” Chan said, pursing his lips afterwards. Felix’s heart sank and then he felt the genuine feelings of fear returning because if he wasn’t here for that then– “But I’m never against indulging. Especially with a human as pretty as you…”

Felix’s eyes widened. Chan smiled and put his other hand on Felix’s waist, digging his claws into his skin through his shirt. “You really should be one of the angels with how divine you look. Definitely not with a demon.”

“Well looks can be deceiving,” Felix said with a sweet smile. “I might look pretty and innocent, but I really just want to get fucked.” And somehow the fact that this demon looked like he could tear him to pieces and take his soul only made the desire burn hotter. “Please. I called you here. I want it.”

Chan’s eyes shifted in color slightly, a bit of a red glow burning underneath the black. It made Felix’s nerve endings tingle. “Are you sure you can handle that, pretty thing?” he asked.

Felix bit his bottom lip and smiled. “Absolutely,” he said, even though his stomach swooped like it did when he was on a fair ride. He had gotten this far, he might as well continue.

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?” He grinned, and before Felix could even muster a response, he was gripping his long hair and tilting his head back. Felix’s scalp stung and tears sprung to his eyes almost immediately but shit it felt good. He hadn’t even had time to process that sensation before the demon’s mouth was on his, immediately kissing him passionate and messy. Felix moaned and his lips parted, allowing Chan full access to his mouth. His tongue ran along his lips and dipped into his mouth, connecting with Felix’s tongue. His fangs scraped his bottom lip and it stung and he was pretty sure there would be blood, but that only added to the intensity of the kiss. He ravaged Felix’s mouth like no one had before, pulling low, needy moans out of him. The sounds of their lips sliding together filled the room and Felix’s own moans bounced around the walls, only muffled by the demon’s hot lips on his.

Eventually Chan did pull away and Felix gasped for air, his chest rising and falling. He wondered briefly if demons needed to breathe, but he didn’t have much time to ponder because suddenly Chan picked him up, the muscles in his arms bulging–and then he tossed him onto the bed. A gasp was punched out of Felix that turned into a moan and his cock twitched at the display of strength. If there were two things he loved they were muscles and manhandling.

The demon crawled over him on the bed, completely caging him in. He knew that he was completely at his mercy. And to anyone else, the sight of the ink-eyed, horned creature looming above them would be terrifying, but to Felix it was erotic. This creature was terrifying and he loved it.

“Humans are so fragile,” Chan said with a slight pout. “I’ll make sure not to totally break you though.” He gave Felix a cocky smirk and he wanted to cry. He wanted to beg yes, please, please break me, break me so that I can’t ever think of anything else, ruin me, but he held his tongue.

“Let’s get these off you. I want to see what you’re hiding under these silly garments.”

The demon didn’t even bother trying to pull Felix’s shirt over his head. He simply hooked his claws around the collar and tore it right off in one swift motion. Felix’s hips jerked and he outright moaned. “Fuck–I’ve always wanted someone to just tear my clothes off me,” he whimpered.

“It’s so sad that everyone else was too weak,” Chan responded. He settled for just tugging Felix’s sweatpants off, and he tossed them aside along with the remains of Felix’s shirt. Felix hadn’t been wearing any underwear, so once the pants were gone, he was completely naked. Chan licked his lips as he looked over Felix’s body and he put his hands on his chest. “Mm so pretty. Truly abnormally pretty for a human…you really could be an angel. I’m glad you’re not though.” he scraped his claws down Felix’s torso, over his nipples and down the ridges of his abdomen. “If you were an angel I couldn’t be doing this right now.”

“I’m glad I’m not then,” Felix said. “Now please fuck me, fuck me so hard it hurts.”

Chan grinned and his dimples did nothing to take away from how hungry and downright sinister his grin was. “Oh I intend to. But one thing first. Call me Master.”

Felix gulped and wet his lips. “Okay. Master.”

He chuckled softly and squeezed his side, his claws digging into his side. “Perfect.” He then moved between Felix’s knees and nudged them apart then brought two fingers to his lips. “Open.”

Felix opened his mouth dutifully and the demon slipped his two fingers inside. Felix let out a muffled moan as Chan pressed down on his tongue and slid his fingers back. He gagged when his claws touched the back of his tongue the sensation only served to make the sparks of arousal in his stomach turn into burning flames.

“Good boy,” Chan hummed, removing his fingers, a trail of spit connecting his fingertips. Felix stared ahead dazedly, his head already feeling fuzzy from the cocktail of emotions he’d felt in the last ten minutes and the feeling of his steadily hardening dick.

Chan grinned, fangs poking out over his plump bottom lip, and he slipped his fingers between Felix’s asscheeks. Felix shuddered as the tips of his fingers circled his hole and for a moment anxiety twisted in his gut because oh fuck the claws. The demon seemed to notice the change and he merely smiled, black and red eyes flickering. “Don’t worry, pretty human, it won’t hurt,” he promised. Felix watched as the claws on the demon’s fingers disappeared, retracting back as if he were a cat. It made a wave of relief wash over him and he spread his thighs.

“Please. Please open me up, master,” Felix whimpered, the pitch of his normally deep voice raising a few octaves.

“Impatient,” Chan hummed. He circled his hole for a second before pushing the first spit-slicked finger past his rim. Felix arched his back and let out a moan. Chan’s hands were hot, and with just one finger he felt like a volcano was erupting inside of him. Heat traveled up his stomach, through his chest, up his throat, and it burned deliciously.

“Ah ah–more,” Felix gasped, rolling his hips to pull Chan’s finger deeper. Despite the fact that he had only used spit for lube there was hardly any burn at all. Must be some sort of demon magic.

Chan leaned down and scraped his fangs across Felix’s thigh as he inserted a second finger and began to scissor the tight ring of muscle. Felix shuddered at the feeling, the feeling of the possible threat–the demon, so much stronger than him, sharp teeth tickling his soft, sensitive skin. He felt lightheaded from it all.

A litany of moans filled the air as Chan scissored his fingers in and out of him and when he pressed them against his prostate, he cried out. The heat of his skin made the touch so much more intense and he wanted more, more. “M-master, master, please,” Felix begged.

“Such a pathetic little thing, aren’t you?” Chan asked with a condescending coo. Felix licked his lips and looked up at the demon through hazy eyes.

“Ye-yes,” he hiccupped. “‘M just desperate. Desperate to get fucked, master, please.”

Sinful was definitely the correct way to describe this scene. Felix’s freckled skin was flushed all over and his cock was hard and leaking against his stomach. And he was begging a demon to fuck him and fill him up.

“Fuck, I want to break you,” the demon groaned. He leaned between Felix’s spread thighs and opened his mouth and for a second Felix thought he was going to take his cock in his mouth, but instead he stuck his tongue out and let a drop of saliva fall down his crack. Felix moaned low in his throat at that and clutched the sheets.

“Sh-shit,” he swore, hole clenching around Chan’s fingers.

Chan smirked as he removed his fingers, only to use them to collect the saliva and push them back in with a third added to the mix. He began to fuck them in and out of him, rubbing against his prostate in a way that had him arching off the bed and moaning obscenely. It was probably loud enough for the neighbors to hear. Fuck.

The demon’s tongue and teeth mapped out his body as he fingered him. Bite marks and dark purple bruises littered his skin like a painting. Some of them hurt, some stung, but it was so good. With every new bite Felix’s reddened cock twitched against his stomach. Chan was merciless with his touches. The sensations overwhelmed Felix’s senses, making his head spin and his limbs tingle. But he needed more. ‘S enough, can take it now, I can,” he whimpered as Chan pressed a fourth finger into his twitching hole.

“Well I am quite eager to fuck you, angel,” Chan said with a smirk. Felix laughed dazedly at the irony of the nickname. There was nothing angelic about any of this, like the demon had already said earlier.

Chan removed his fingers, leaving Felix’s hole gaping and clenching around nothing. He brought his hand to his own cock and the movement drew Felix’s eyes to it. And then he gasped.

“Oh–fuck,” he muttered. He didn’t know why he hadn’t noticed before. Not only was his cock huge, it was covered in rows of rough ridges and bumps, unlike any cock Felix had ever seen. Then again, Chan wasn’t just some man. He was a demon. A monster. Fuck. “That’s–”

“Oh?” Chan asked, tilting his head teasingly. “Does it scare you, pretty?” He gave his cock a few slow tugs and Felix gulped, shaking his head.

“N-no, master,” he breathed. If anything, it made him even more eager. Shit, those bumps would drag along his walls and rub against his prostate and it would feel so good. So good.

“Good,” the demon hummed. He jerked his cock a few more times before releasing it and suddenly he grabbed Felix by the hips and flipped him over in one motion. Felix let out a gasp followed by a whimper, unbelievably turned on by the simple action.

“Nghh–master.”

“Shush, pretty. Or I won’t fuck you at all,” Chan growled. He gripped Felix’s hips and pulled him back so that he was on his knees with his chest pressed to the mattress. His claws were back and they dug into the sensitive skin of his hips.

Felix swallowed thickly and a groan rumbled in his chest when he felt the tip of Chan’s dick press against his hole. He nearly opened his mouth to ask for more but then Chan was pushing inside him. His mouth fell open and a loud moan was punched out of him as Chan pushed himself all the way in. The ridges of his thick cock caught on his rim and pushed against his walls but it didn't hurt, it felt good.

"F-fuck, master, please move," he gasped pathetically.

Chan's grip on his hips tightened and he began moving, giving Felix no time to adjust. He fucked him animalistically, his hips smacking against Felix's ass so hard he knew it would bruise in the morning. The bumps on his cock brushed against his prostate with every thrust and Felix's eyes rolled back. Heat furled in his stomach and he could already feel himself getting close pathetically fast.

"Hnn–ah, aahhh–f-fuck m-master, m-more, hard–nghhh–harder!" he whined, arching his back more for the demon to fuck him deeper. It felt like he could feel him in his guts.

Chan picked up his thrusts, ramming into him so hard it punched the air out of him. "That good enough for ya, huh?" He gritted, digging his claws harder into Felix's hips. He didn't even sound breathless.

"Yes, yes! Aahh," Felix moaned. Drool ran down his chin as he lost all care for how he acted, so close already.

Chan continued fucking him just like that, pushing into him deep and hard, filling him up and stretching his walls better than anyone ever had before. His cock ached as it bounced against his stomach with each thrust, precum dripping down it. Each thrust had him twitching. It was too much, but exactly what he had been needing.

"I'm almost–I'm gonna–" Felix sputtered after a few minutes, barely able to form coherent sentences. Chan pounded into him at an unnatural pace, one that left him reeling. He could never be fucked by someone else again.

"Come for me then, pretty. Make a sinful little mess of yourself," Chan groaned.

And just like that, Feliz was coming with a long drawn out moan, covering his stomach in cum. Chan continued fucking him through his orgasm, the drag of his cock making Felix tingle with overstimulation. He let him continue though, and after another moment he was filling him up with his cum, letting out a low growl as he did.

Felix barely registered anything after that. One moment he was awake, being filled to the brim, the next he was out. And when he woke again, the demon was gone. The only evidence being the countless bite marks, hickeys, and scratches on his skin.

It almost seemed like a dream. And Felix wondered if that would be the end of everything. But as he was moving around and getting ready for the day, a brush of an invisible hand on his shoulder and a familiar disembodied chuckle told him that wouldn't be the last he'd see of the demon.

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ficfinding · 7 months

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hii i’m trying to find a stray kids fanfic it's about minho who works at a sex shop and jisung who's a dad and goes there to see minho. they hook up after that more (plsss help frl i’m desperate)

#Stray kids #fic find #fic finder #Nsft

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cuntyqueer · 9 months

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pairing: Christopher Bang x reader

genre: smut

warnings: needy Chris; hand job; blowjob; moans; teasing

i wrote this in 2019 so my smut has definitely improved, but i wanted to get it out the drafts

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You loved nights like these. Dinner had been finished. Dishes had been washed. You were on the couch watching Grey’s Anatomy reruns and Chris was home, for once, writing in the other room. It was intimate in such an unassuming way; such a quiet comfort. Just knowing that he was home was enough to keep you happy. That’s how you were for a few hours when you heard a sigh come from the other room followed by, “Y/N?”

“Yes baby? You need something?” You responded. Another sigh.

“Yeah.” Only slightly annoyed that you had to leave the comfort of your seat, you padded over to the room, a blanket still wrapped around your body. “What’s up?” you inquired as you appeared in the doorframe. But before he could even respond it was very clear what was “up.”

“So, you need my help?” you teased, dropping your blanket from your shoulders onto the floor.

“I mean you don’t have to… I just…” He was so flustered that it made you chuckle. “It’s just been awhile since we’ve…” His sentence trailed off as the tension grew in the room. You walked over to him, and could hear his breath catch in his throat; unaware of your next move. He sat in his desk chair facing you and as you approached him, he shifted, making himself more visible. Aware of the power you had over the situation, you decided to have some fun.

You stood in front of him, holding eye contact as he squirmed. Lowering yourself onto his lap, you gently rubbed your core against his hardening. He pulled you closer to him, making you feel all of him. You blushed but kept your composure, focusing on attaching your lips to his neck. Sweet pecks, mixed with deep and hard bruises released small whines from his lips. Continuing to pull you in and running his hands up and down your body, you could feel him wanting more, to take control, but you weren’t finished yet. You lowered yourself of off his lap and ran your nails under his shirt and onto his abs. You hinged your fingers on the band of his shorts and began to tug them off. A moan escaped his throat. You loved that sound. Taking him in your hands, you rubbed him gently, enough pressure to be felt but not enough for any type of release. You were making him crazy. “Y/N,” he whined. You ignored him, focusing on the task at hand. Your lips gently brushed the tip of him and he groaned. You were enjoying every minute of it. After a few seconds more of torture, you took him whole, making sure he reached the very back of your throat. You had genuinely forgot how large he was. Adjusting your position slightly to allow even the slightest bit of oxygen into your lungs, you began to suck him softly. “Babeee.” Faster. A moan. Loud and clear; by far your favorite sound. You continued to keep your pace though tears brimmed your eyes. “Ohhh babe I’m-, faster babe pleaseeee,” he pleaded. In the past you would have finished him off in one stride but tonight you decided to be mischievous, as you slowed down.

“Babeeee, why are you doing this to me?” His voice sounded so needy, so hungry. You couldn’t help yourself, you went at it again, this time faster than ever and within moments, husky moans filled the room as he released. You swallowed, satisfied with what you had done. You sat back onto your heels, but before you could even say a single word, he lifted you onto the bed.

He smirked, “My turn.”

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pt. 2 now on my page (and not to brag, but it’s goooooddddd)

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shibaraki · 8 months

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EXCERPT FROM EDEN ┊ AIZAWA SHOUTA

synopsis: the further you delve into the forest the farther you find yourself from your village's good graces—subsequently pushed into the arms of a creature you were warned to stay away from.

tags: NSFT, AFAB reader, fantasy au, naga aizawa, human reader, childhood friends to lovers, mention of violence (reader has bruises), reader is an outcast, bathing together, nesting, monsterfucking, mating bites (not A/B/O), aphrodisiac venom (so no prep needed), dubcon (for the venom) but v enthusiastic consent, non human genitalia (hemipenes), grinding, unprotected vaginal sex, multiple orgasm, creampie, aizawa carries reader (he is big n strong)

wc: 7.3K

There are monsters in the night.

Adults would spin tales about them when you were young. You were warned not to go near the forest. To never stray from the path. If a voice calls to you, do not answer. Look at your feet and cover your ears. Thoughts filled with blood-steeped, ugly stories of such creatures: half man half serpent taller than an ogre swallowing impious people up whole. Naga, the true tempter, the harbinger of misfortune.

Children spent idle time feigning courage and taunting the so-called beasts in spite of it; playing at the treeline, skittering over the border and rushing back with a surge of adrenaline, as if the creature had been right there awaiting a meal. But above all they liked to frighten you, the runt of the litter. Snakes like to eat mice, they would jeer. Little mouse they would call you. Perfect bait.

It had been dewy that fateful afternoon. You were chased deep into the unknown. Petichor hung thick around the trees after a sun shower. Summer was drawing to a close. Shorter days, darker mornings. Your elders would call the weather ‘temperamental’ and you liked that. As though the Gods were children clinging onto those last dregs of heat, unwilling to let go.

Grass flattened wet under your bare feet, you ran from sharp stones and sharper words. Ran until the only voice left in your head was your own. Lungs tight and spasming for oxygen. You felt eyes on you the moment foliage snapped under another tentative step—but the figure before you did not move. He remained on his stomach, arms folded beneath his head, body stretched long and bare across the narrow clearing to bathe in the sunspot. Lower, right at the base of his spine, pale skin faded seamlessly into black scales that made up the thick, sinuous tail of a snake.

Your knees stung where small open wounds touched the air. A gentle breeze flowed in through the underbrush, took your slight apprehension and whisked it into the thinning redwood canopy. As a child you simply couldn’t connect something so non threatening and lazy to the monsters of old.

You approached the naga with slow, telegraphed movements. Thin pupils drenched in vermillion glow observed behind a half lidded stare. Closer then, trembling hands tugged and stretched the hem of your shirt, popping the old stitching. “Hello,” you said, voice small even to your own ears. “I—I’m not a mouse. Just so you know”.

Something flickered in his expression; a stifled inhale, a brief shift, the naga sighed. It rolled through his body, belly turning toward the sky. Sunlight reflected on the exposed underside and shimmered iridescent, stealing your breath. “That much is obvious,” he replied tiredly.

“Then, you won’t eat me?” before he had the chance to answer, you’d already been emboldened. You tottered toward him with a surge of energy and sureness. “Thank you. Can we be friends?”

“No,” he muttered, retreating into his coils.

A familiar sensation stung behind your eyes and your bottom lip trembled fiercely. It built up in your body and collapsed. Loneliness, shame, the incessant, throbbing ache in your limbs after sprinting so far. You tried again, a quiet warble. “Please?”

But a stern voice rumbled from the layers of muscle, uninterested in your swelling emotions. “Go away kid,” the naga demanded. “It’s not safe out here”.

“M’not a kid,” then you kicked the dirt in a burst of wounded anger. While bigger than you, this naga wasn’t even close to towering an oni, so you bluffed petulantly, “You’re a kid too”.

“While that may be true I am still older than you,” came the disgruntled remark. Then, faster than you could register, an arm shot out from between the dark coils and took you by the throat.

Reflexively, you gripped the naga’s wrist with both hands. But you didn’t flinch. Rather than fight his hold you waited, rabbit-footed heart beating in your chest. Violence was nothing new to a runt like you. The hand slid up to your chin and forced you to keep his gaze. His eyes flickered strangely there in the darkness. Red like fresh blood. The ire in them faltered at your spiritless reaction.

“Annoying human. Your lack of instinct will get you killed,” the creature stated. You said nothing. He continued, “You’re far from home. Follow the river to your settlement. Do not come back here”.

You recall how abruptly your senses sharpened at his mention and latched onto the distant sound of running water. He freed you from his grip, pale limb slinking back into the recesses of his twisted tail. He reminded you of a snail receding into its shell. Boring, lazy and slow moving. Naga were not so frightening, you concluded.

You returned with reluctance, following the riverbank until the end of your new world where it broke into a wishbone shape and wound around the village. Adults frowned at the dry mud caking your feet, ankles and calves. Their calloused fingers squeezed roughly around your wrists and dragged you to the springs to scrub you raw.

“Where on earth have you been?” one asked, mouth set in a frown. Another held you by the shoulders, thumbs pressed into your collarbone with intention to bruise. “Your stupidity is going to curse us all,” they shook you in place and their strength only grew the more you fought. “Do not provoke the naga. Understand?”

Faces twisted in disappointment haunted you all through the night. Eyes sore and puffy. Tears soaked into your shirt; you could taste them in the back of your throat. Oval-shaped bruises adorned your collar yet your throat and your jaw remained unblemished, if not a little tender. You were hurt, but not by the one you were warned against.

Your second excursion into the forest to see the naga was of your own volition. He was not where you first met him but nearby, curled up beneath an ancient tree, right where her bole has spread and warped to create a small depression in the trunk. The wind billowed. Branches swayed and bent their spindly fingers, pointed at you, almost accusingly.

He appeared to be sleeping. Again. Arms folded atop his tail, chin rested on the cradle it made. Perhaps there was something wrong with you—as the elders often stated—but you were not entirely stupid. You kept your hands to yourself, letting only your eyes wander as you crept close enough to see the soft curve of his jaw, the sloped nose, the youthful cheeks.

Long dark hair draped loosely over pale shoulders, expression serene while he rested. You thought he was lovely. Not at all beastly. Right down to the dip of his stomach, where skin vanished into bony hips and an obsidian tail.

A guttural hum startled you where you stood. Unmoving, the naga murmured, “Do you have a death wish?”

That voice untied every knot in your body. “N—no,” you held strong. “I told you, I want to be friends”.

“And I told you that’s not happening”.

When he peeked at you through dark curtains into those dim eyes there came a softness, as though atoning for his harsh words. Under that gaze your stomach started to rumble. “You’re hungry,” you shrunk, palms pressed flat as though to snuff out the sound. “Humans need to eat multiple times a day, do they not?”

“…Sometimes,” your agreement was barely a mumble. “If there is enough for me”.

The naga scrutinised you and your answer, displeased by it. After a long silence he unravelled and asked, “Do you want food?”

Hope filled you from root to stem. You bloomed. Stretched for the open sky like a flower seeking sun, bouncing on the tips of your toes. “Food?” you echoed excitedly. You trailed after him and nearly tripped in your haste. He caught you with the end of his tail and sighed. It coiled tightly around your middle and inched you along with him.

Having glanced surreptitiously in his direction, your warm human hand swept across the cool dark scales. They were glossy and smooth, unlike anything you’d ever felt. As he moved you sensed the power in his limb.

“What do naga eat?”

“Anything. Fish, birds, insects,” he told you. The coil around your waist flexed as if to check you were there. Hearing your trepidation his tone lilted as he added, “But what you’re really asking is if I eat humans, aren’t you?”

You rubbed where you thought his belly might be and pondered aloud, “Would you, if they deserved it?”

He scowled over his shoulder and came to an abrupt stop. “What kind of a question is that, kid?”

You wilted at the sharp verbiage, feeling scolded, though unable to understand his offense. After all, that is exactly what the villagers would say of you if ever he decided to.

That only seemed to fuel his frustration. You worried in the face of it, for a weak moment. Warnings you’ve clamoured in your conscience, soon chased by immediate guilt. Your new friend had offered kindness and there you were, assuming the worst of him.

Sensing your turmoil the naga cautiously brought his hand to your head. Front to back, pausing at a vulnerable, unmarked nape. He attempted to pet you. Wide eyed, you stared ahead until every leaf in the grove coalesced into a green blur. His touch had been deliberate, soft and soothing despite the tension set in his face.

Laid in the palm of his other hand was a pile of plum red berries. The coils relaxed to recline you into a comfortable position and wordlessly, you shared the small treat together. Teeth glinted sharp in the daylight, made to rend flesh from bone. They sank tender into thin skin until it burst and he hummed at the flavour enjoying a simple pleasure like any human boy would.

Their fruity tang clung to your tongue. You took your fill and more. “Thank you…” your voice lost strength, no name to fill the blanks.

“Aizawa,” he muttered. A rough swipe of his thumb across your lips wiped away the citrus. “It’s Aizawa Shouta. And don’t speak with your mouth full”.

The sky darkened on the eventide. Aizawa bid you a flippant farewell, your name at home in his mouth, and you erred on caution, changing course to wash the dirt and foliage from your body. Loud was the pounding of your heart against your ribs, a frantic beat. But nobody batted an eye at your presence, nor the absence of it.

Those short excursions continued for some time. Be it a stroke of boredom, or loneliness, you would find yourself treading back through the banks, to Aizawa’s territory. There was never a discernible path leading to him. Your legs would simply take you there, heart magnetised like the arrow of a compass. Whilst the village raised you with harsh, inattentive hands, he became your North. Years passed together and eyes turned as your insatiable curiosity grew, along with your carelessness.

And with that carelessness came consequences.

Fate is a funny thing. You are sprinting through the forest, feet pounding against the dirt alongside the ghost of your childhood self. The enraged shouts have long since tapered into silence yet you can’t allow yourself to slow. Your limbs ache, a bone deep permafrost, fatigued muscles clenching.

They’d followed you yesterday. Unexpected, given how deliberately people avoided the village border. Everything collapsed in one fell swoop. A single misstep and your life was upturned. You heard their plans to confine you in the shrine and knew—you’d never be able to see Shouta again.

Lost in your muddied stream of consciousness your foot is caught in a bundle of jagged roots. Mossy fingers coil around your ankle. You stumble, taking impact to the knees. The sting is muted as it knocks the air from your burning lungs.

You gasp, a wet and raspy breath; an apocalyptic spring fills your chest. The trees are in bloom. High above the blossoms are pale pink, like branches covered in snow. Ash flowers fell slowly to coat the ground. They get in your hair, your clothes and your eyes.

Shouta finds you there. He has always had the uncanny ability to sense you in his territory, as though the forest were an extension of himself. Your neck strains to lift your head, looking through lashes to see his silhouette. Red eyes flash in the distance, and in a mere blink he is at your side.

“Shouta—”

A low, guttural sound reverberates in the back of his throat. You’re scooped into his embrace. He is gentle with you, always aware of the difference in size and strength, and your heart beats harder for it. “You’re early,” he says. “What happened?”

You exhale through the fresh tenderness searing, “They know”.

Shadows shift above you. A curtain of hair hangs in your periphery. Shouta sinks until your eyes are level. Big. He hit a frightening growth spurt after his juvenile shed. A broad chest, shoulders corded with muscle, his long tail heavy enough to disturb the natural topography of the forest floor. Uneven scars littered across his skin from territorial disputes that you were not privy to. The most recent curves along his right cheekbone, fresh and pink.

Your gaze lingered as you took in his expression. Mouth downturned in obvious discontent but eyes dark, pensive. Beautiful even when he is doing nothing at all.

Shouta’s irises flickered in the softening light of the afternoon sun. Fingers drumming on lacquer scales. “They know?” he repeats. Irritation coated the words, as it often did when speaking of your village. “They should have realised years ago”.

Like him, you had shed your own urgent adolescence. The world became smaller and you preferred it that way. It spun around Shouta as if he were your own axis. When you were with him there was something much bigger than childlike wonder.

“That’s different. I wasn’t anything important. But now I’ve… been slacking on my duties to see you,” embarrassed, you tear up the thinning grass, seated at the foot of his coils. “I’m old enough to be of use, so my absence is noticeable,”

“You were a child. Running off God knows where. You’re lucky an orc didn’t decide to pick his teeth with you,” the snap in his voice almost hurt, but there was no bite nor true anger aimed at you. You’ve had these arguments before.

“I’m lucky because I had you to protect me,” you amended gently, a small smile curled at the corner of your mouth. It took a while for you to realise that he tailed you home each time you visited, just to be sure. His scales shift at your back, carrying the praise through his body. “I know it bothers you, Shouta, but this is just how things are. Don’t worry, I’ll be more careful from now on”.

“This is not about you being careful,” Shouta mutters, though you get the sense he has no energy to truly argue. You hesitate in the brief silence. He takes you by the wrist, not the hand, and you pout about it.

He encourages you to come. You tread through the thick, clammy air as the sun beats down on your shoulders. Shouta takes you up the valley. Where the treeline ends the mouth of the river funnels south, surface glittering softly as the currents part around a large rock in the centre; top smoothed down flat for sunning. You watched while he sunk into the water, tail disappearing behind him as it submerged and disturbed the silt.

“Come on,” he coaxes begrudgingly. You dither by the edge, picking at your sleeve.

“I can’t get my clothes wet”.

Shouta reaches the rock, bracing an arm against it. Draped in open sunlight he turns to level you with a flat look. “Then take them off. Don’t bother giving excuses. I already know you’re wounded, I can smell it”.

Shit. You wince, resting a hand over the marks across your ribs and hip. You were so sure he hadn’t noticed anything.

Anticipation churned in your stomach. You’ve never been nude in front of him before—though not for lack of wanting, and you suppose he himself has always been naked in human terms. You swallow down trepidation and lift your shirt over your head, gaze resolutely pointed away from the river, which rippled with every minute shift Shouta’s tail.

The currents are a cool caress against your body as you step into the river, soothing the bruises. Tentative, you wade further, arms folded over your breasts for some semblance of modesty. Once you’re standing in waist high water something hard, smooth—Shouta’s tail wraps around you and pulls you close.

“Deep water,” he mutters softly. You’re pressed skin to skin. His throat bobs and he looks away. “Can’t have you drowning”.

“Right,” you say, left breathless by the proximity. You can feel his chest rise and fall. Sinew and muscle expands. Rigid scales dotted along his navel press against your abdomen as he sprawled around the sunning rock. “Thank you”.

He hums in lieu of a response. Small waves lap up your spine as he adjusts his grip, holding you with one arm around your lower back. Shouta traces his thumb over the large mark on your pelvis, the claw tip catching. “You said they found out. So this is the result?”

You grimace weakly at the subject. It was naïve to hope he would let it go. “It’s my fault. I was careless,” you tried, slumped in his embrace as though filled with wet sand. “They’re just afraid of what they don’t understand. I should’ve tried to explain years ago—”

“You and your misplaced guilt,” Shouta’s jaw ticks. He inhales deeply, his next words quieter on a long exhale. “Stop rationalising their mistreatment. They’re stuck in their ways”.

“Maybe. But I…”

The truth was that an ugly part of you had never wanted them to change for the better. You wanted Shouta to yourself for as long as he’s willing and their ignorance made it so. Fear kept them away. But it also stoked their anger.

“I can’t help but wonder why they're so against it,” you tuck your chin and smile despite the lump lodged in your throat, suddenly feeling naked in all manner of ways. “They treat me like a curse. And I know it’s natural to fear what you don’t understand, but if they just knew you—!”

“Humans should fear my kind,” Shouta interrupts, a bite to his tone. Your eyes dipped low, and you traced your fingers over the intricate mosaic of scales across his clavicle to avoid his sharp gaze. A short moment passes. “Your association with me doesn’t make you a harbinger of ill omen,” he murmurs, sweeping his hand along the planes of your back in silent apology. “If anything you’ve been protecting them from one”.

You lift your head. His pupils dilate, soften. “I have?”

A broad palm wraps around the nape of your neck, the other resting over your bruised hip. Shouta’s thumb brushes over your pulse. “If not for your insistence and naïve altruism I would have killed them for neglecting you,” Shouta admitted, bringing you tighter to his front. You’re taken deeper, until your feet no longer reach the riverbed and the cold no longer bites.

“When will you prioritise yourself?” he continues. “I’m starting to think you would pull out your own teeth if it could guarantee you’d never hurt anyone”.

You smile, a little dazed by how favourably he regarded you. His skin is cool under your fingertips. “That’s not quite true,” you trace the scar beneath his eye and he slows, turning into your palm. The pad of your thumb brushed the corner of his mouth. There you find those monstrous teeth, large and sharp behind his lips. The touch feels momentous, like something only lovers do. “And either way, I’d still have yours to protect me”.

Shouta rumbles at that. The vibrations loosen up the tension in your chest and satisfaction gathers warm in your belly. “Lean back,” he murmurs. Anticipation swoops through your belly as you recline in his arms, cradling you above the ripples to wash your body with his own hands.

“This water has healing properties. Further down the mountain the river splits and forms a hot spring,” Shouta’s claw-tipped fingers brush your nipple, pert under his attention. Your breath hitches. He pays it no mind, palm sliding over each breast and along your shoulders, wiping down the sweat and dirt. The pressure remains delicate around your waist, careful not to agitate the bruises.

Shouta kneads the soft parts of your body even after the filth is gone. You hum, allowing yourself to enjoy his attention. Everything feels heavier. Gravity bears hard on your arms as they lift to brush the wet hair back from his face and you marvel at how his eyelids flutter closed, one after the other. You comb through his roots, scratching lightly over his scalp before working loose the knots at the ends.

Something is beginning to swell beneath you but a quiet contentment overwhelms the reciprocal arousal stirring in your gut. Watching the tension in his face trickle away, eyes falling closed so dark lashes fan over pale cheeks. Your fingertips trace along the smattering of scales by his temple and notice a new vivid sheen to them.

“You look brighter,” you murmur, curious.

Awareness flies over his features. You almost miss it given how swiftly he buries it, taking on that familiar monotonous air. After years spent detailing the subtleties in every fleeting expression and spoken word you’ve become quite accustomed to Shouta concealing his embarrassment.

Turning away from your prying eyes, the line of his jaw becomes sharper as he swallows. “It’ll soon be my seasonal rut,” he tells you, feigning indifference. “My scales are more vibrant for the purpose of attracting a mate”.

“A mate?” you echo uselessly. Dread churns in the pit of your stomach. You knew well what having a ‘mate’ entailed. A white hot sensation prickles at your nape that not even the cool water can quell. In your naivety—and perhaps, selfishness—you’d never considered that he might find somebody else. Somebody suitable. “That’s… really great, Shouta. But who? I thought you chased off the last bed of naga that passed through?”

At this, a frown etched into Shouta’s brow. “You’re making a few unnecessary leaps in that head of yours,” he mutters. “At what point did I say my mate needed to be a naga?”

There’s something in his voice that gives weight to what he’s doing. It echoes an unspoken proposition. Unbidden from the recesses of your mind rose the wishful thoughts you’d imagined so often they were practically dogeared. A shiver trickled down your spine, caught in a gauzy yet comfortable silence as Shouta continued to clean your body.

The tip of his tongue peeks out to taste the air once he’s done. You fruitlessly will your body to temper its desire, to feign some semblance of control as you lift your head, no longer denying him the answer written plainly on your face.

“…I want that,” you confess, picking up the thread he left. You rub across his shoulders and bring your palms together in the middle of his chest, folded over his heart. “I can't go back. Take me home with you. Keep me”.

Shouta looks surprised—a microexpression, if anything; imperceptible to anyone but you—as though he hadn't expected you to accept. You’re warmed by the idea that he might’ve been hoping for more without expectation.

That’s all you’ve ever known, failed expectations.

A beat passes. You think he might be giving you a grace period—allowing time for a regret that never comes. When he realises you’ve no intention to take it back he sucks a hiss through his teeth, and you’re close enough to see his thin pupils spill into his irises until they’re inky black.

The river breaks around you, water foaming at the surface as Shouta unwittingly guides your knotted bodies to the shore. “I see you’re still as reckless as you were when we were children,” he says, sounding hoarse. “You have no idea what you’re agreeing to”.

“I’m saying yes to you, Shouta,” your voice strains, desperation creeping in when you feel his arms loosen and your feet brush the wet bank. “Teach me what I don’t know because I hate leaving. I hate missing you”.

The rough sensation of Shouta’s scales against your inner thighs rippled through your body, core tightening as he retained his grip around your waist. “This is not a conversation we’re having in the open,” he takes you both out of the water and you shy away from the cool air.

He bends over to collect your clothes and drapes them in your naked lap. You clutch the fabric close, “Where are we going?”

“To my den. No questions until then”.

The journey to Shouta’s den is long, deliberately so. Caught in his coils you go, without trepidation—like a willing little mouse, your mind whispers. Only on the third cycle do you realise that he is purposefully traveling in circles to cover his tracks. Aside from the occasional birdsong and cicada you don’t hear anything for miles. It’s so peaceful that you forget that a world exists outside of this vast, sprawling forest.

In time he reaches the den. The sky has darkened to an early dawn, the gloaming orange light casting shadows over Shouta’s face as he leans over you to shield you from the overgrowth to get to the entrance.

Arched tall and gaping, the bumpy outer walls of the cave are fissured with fingerlings of old tree roots. Shrouded in darkness, Shouta slithers around the stalagmites protruding from the floor with ease. Inside the air is thick, humid as he carries you deeper, metres further down, refusing to release you from his coils.

Meandering into a broader section, Shouta spreads out easily in the cavern. You blink around as your vision adjusts and notice narrow streams of light threading through the stalactites hung on the ceiling. Twinkling are various trinkets, tied around and dangling from the spikes. Jewels, chainmail, rusted daggers, cutlery.

When you were a young you’d spend sleepless nights imagining where Shouta lived, conjuring possibilities only a child could. Despite that curiosity you never asked to see his home—you knew, innately, as an avid observer of creatures big and small, that it would be an invasion of his privacy. But of everything you imagined it had been nothing like this.

There’s a wide alcove at the back of the cavern, housing what appears to be a nest near an extinguished fire pit, still carrying the faint scent of smoke. Shouta lowers you into it and slinks away for a moment to discard your clothes. Warmth engulfs you, insulated in the structure. There are branches both large and small intricately woven and padded with an assortment of pelts, lichen and moss. Most notable is the snakeskin used to hold together the joints of the nest.

You pinch a piece delicately between your thumb and forefinger. It’s thick, smoother than expected. “Is this yours?”

Though far off his voice reaches your ears, “Is that your first question?”

Shouta returns holding what looks to be a blanket. His tail drags behind him. The sound ripples around the space. When shaken out and draped over your bare lower half you discover that the blanket is actually the rest of his shed. It’s beautiful, inexplicably silky while being heavy and tough.

You tug the snakeskin higher up your body and note how fervently he tracks the movement. “Yes, it’s mine. It strengthens the nest,” Shouta explains, beginning a languorous dance circling the nest as though he were adding himself to it. Your attention does not stray as his tail coils upon itself, lap after lap until you’re entirely surrounded.

“You’ve been planning this,” you comment. How long had it taken for him to craft it? Did he imagine what you’d think? “It’s beautiful”.

Pleased with the height, Shouta’s upper body slinks down into the centre where you wait. Home. Not simply a place but an extension of his body, like the forest. You’re directly in the heart. A place that you alone have been allowed to see.

Your mind drifts to the feckless creatures and travelers who’ve wandered this way only to be killed. But rather than fear, or sorrow, a distinctive emotion welled up inside you. You felt special.

“It’s mainly instinct. Not much planning,” he says.

You reach to cup his cold face in your hands. Cheeks flush, like all the blood in him had rushed to the surface to greet you. He rumbles as your thumb traces an arc along his newest scar, tucking his chin to nuzzle into your palm. It’s cute, though you wouldn’t dare say that.

A content hum vibrates behind his ribs, “You’re so warm”. Then you feel the tentative press of lips and of fangs underneath. He kisses your heartline. You falter at the uncharacteristic show of affection, clutching his snakeskin tighter. His dark gaze falls to your partially covered chest. Low and supple he asks, “Do you know what it means to wear a naga skin?”

You slowly shake your head.

“Naga gift their sheds to be used in nests or as armour for their mates,” propped onto his arm Shouta presses closer, forcing your thighs to bracket the thick of his tail. “It’s viewed as a public claim,” he stops short a hair's breadth from your wanting mouth, sharing a shallow inhale.

Filled with intrepid awe, your fingertips walk the slope of his throat, hands laying flat to his chest. A hummingbird’s wing, a pulse belying his nerves. You reach for your voice, “Does this make me yours?”

Shouta blinks, pupils dilating. The distant trickle of water dripping from the stalactites echoes throughout the cavern. You feel his stomach clench where your touch slips lower, “Are you sure you want to be?”

“Since you fed me those berries in the east valley”.

“You were a child,” Shouta huffs, doing a poor job at appearing unaffected.

“Children sometimes imagine falling in love, you know,” a small, sad smile comes unbidden to your lips. “I never had anyone to play pretend with,” you tell him softly, meeting his eyes. “You always took care of me. Back then I wondered if that’s what it’d be like to have a husband when I came of age”.

With a furrow in his brow, Shouta cradles your jaw. He tucks his thumb against the corner of your downturned mouth, “A husband?”

“The human equivalent of a mate. A husband or wife,” you say. “Marriage is a promise to be together for the rest of your lives”.

“And you want that. The rest of your life,” Shouta’s words are hoarse, they sound thick in his throat. He brings your foreheads together, almost reverential, and dark tendrils of hair fall around you. “With me?”

You swallow. “Yes. I want…”

Your wandering hand stills at his navel, right in the bend where skin turned to scale. You’re reminded that he isn’t a human man. What you’ve been taught about sex and the parts that go along with the act—that knowledge is mostly worthless here.

Curious, you palm the growing bump where a cock would be, index finger tracing the thin slit along the middle, teasing him as you would tease yourself. Shouta grabs your wrist, arm braced above your head to rock into the touch, a frisson of iridescence rippling through his scales.

The airy groan in his throat quells your anxiety and feeds your longing. Chin tilted, your mouths aligned, a petal-soft brush that shakes him from his reverie and draws him back. You complain and curl your arms around his neck, missing him. He huffs a short laugh but doesn’t retreat any further.

“Careful,” he lifts his upper lip and pushes the tip of his tongue to his left fang. A pinprick of his blood wells there. “You’ll catch yourself”.

“Are you venomous?” and you pout, noticing the mirth flickering across his face. “What?”

“Not in the way you’re imagining. Pay attention,” he answers, and bends to tuck his nose into the hollow of your throat. His jaw unhinges, tasting you with a deep inhale. Oh. Your pulse rockets when he drags his fangs there in suggestion of a bite—breath held as they barely break skin and an abrupt heat tingles around the scratch.

“Wh—what does it do?” you gasp in wonder, poking the blooming mark as Shouta hums, descending to drag his lips over the peaks of your breasts.

“Humans call it a lot of things. An aphrodisiac, drug, relaxant,” he says. Each word is a kiss left everywhere but the one place you need it. Blood rushes to your ears. “A mating bite eases the burden. Makes sure your body ready for me,” you watch on with bated breath while he reaches lower, and jolt, ensnared in his half lidded gaze as he lightly drags his knuckles through your wet folds. His thumb finds your clit, massaging a few light circles around the swollen bundle of nerves. Your hips twitch, and Shouta grins at your soft whine, “Though you’re already doing that beautifully on your own”.

Desperate, you grapple at his shoulders. He rises with an indulgent smile and you lean to kiss him. A clumsy thing, open mouthed and needy, receding enough to make room for protest before kissing him again, and again, nipping the seam of his lips. Hair stands on end as the world suddenly tips on its axis and your positions are reversed.

You’ve no chance to mourn the loss. Shouta lay on his back. He sinks into the nest and draws your knee over his hip. A shiver licks up your spine as you sit low on his navel, entirely bare and wet; with him being so sensitive to his surroundings there’s no doubt he can feel the beat of desire between your thighs.

The flesh spills between his fingers as Shouta squeezes your waist. “I can feel you throbbing,” he murmurs. His own heat is swelling between you. Sticky arousal smeared on your inner thighs. Shouta’s vent pulses in time with his heart—and yours. You exhale a shaky breath, relieved and exhilarated that he wants you too. The growing pressure pushes against your clit and your hips twitch, a fleeting stutter to relieve the ache.

Shouta groans. Large hands find purchase at your hips, appreciating how your body yields to his touch, and encourages you to move. “Oh,” comes a soft gasp, feeling his swollen slit flower open beneath your cunt, leaking arousal. The friction, or lack thereof, is incredible, and you repeat the motion, seeking it again.

It’s slick where your bodies meet. The obscene wet sound of you rocking together leaves you dazed. Shouta’s lower half shifts as arousal zips through him and the nest creaks. “Fuck, feels good. More,” you demand breathlessly. Something else nudges against your clit with every pass, two heads budding from the vent, and your eyes screw shut—

Two?

A groan falls from Shouta’s mouth and your frantic realisation dissolves. You can hardly think. He licks the curve of your throat, nuzzling the barely-there-mark he’d left. Infinitesimal and yet it hasn’t stopped throbbing. An ache spreads through your hips, his hands rutting you against the swell with a desperate rhythm.

“Shouta,” you say, overwhelmed. “Do it. Bite me, fuck me, please. Please. I want—I want to—!”

The sharp pain is dulled so quickly you’re not sure it was ever there. Shouta sank his fangs into the juncture of your neck, a hand firm at your nape to keep you still. Vision blurred, your mouth drops open around a silent scream as your orgasm rips through you—the venom close behind, forcing your seized muscles pliant and stoking your arousal until it’s burning from the inside out.

Shouta releases your neck and trails his fingertips along the length of your back. You whine, a helpless and confused little sound, when the heat allays under his affections. Your thighs are trembling, slipping down his hips as you use the last of your inertia to curl into his chest.

He cradles your limp form amongst his coils, creating a protective barrier around you in such a vulnerable state. “I have you,” he says, the shaky baritone of his voice coaxing your eyes open. Half-cognisant, not quite in and not quite outside of yourself.

“…It’s too much,” you pant.

“I know,” Shouta kisses your temple, paving his way to the corner of your mouth, “You’re doing so well”.

You turn lazily into the kiss. Your thighs have fallen open further, and you subconsciously raise yourself up to better the angle. The blunt tip of one of his cocks nudges through your folds and a white hot sensation prickles over your skull. Shouta lowers you onto his cock with care, muscles corded tight in obvious restraint, wanting to ease you into the stretch. He’s thicker than a human, subtle soft ridges lining the sides, caressing you in places your fingers could never reach.

You begin to tremble and the air is pushed from your lungs with a gasping sob as he splits you open. The sensation is hard to decipher through the haze. Your ears ring, the sound high and metallic. It isn’t numbing—no, you can feel everything, every minute shift, pulse and ridge. It’s an intrusive, satisfying ache, an insurmountable pressure. There’s no part of you he isn’t touching. You consider, the thought vague and half-formed, that when Shouta bit you something in your brain must’ve rewired itself. Synapses crossed, addled by venom, convincing you of pleasure where there would otherwise be pain.

Your small world grows ever smaller. Shouta is all encompassing. His dark hair is tickling your face, smooth scales rippling under your cheek. He’s saying something—he must be, because his mouth is moving above you, murmuring what sounds like sweet incantations of your name.

An immaculate red glow pools into his irises as they roll skyward, brow furrowed in concentration. His second cock drools across his belly, where it lay trapped by your bodies. The slick underside of his cock wet and pulsing against your clit, fully sheathed.

“Do you have any idea how you feel—fuck,” Shouta’s jaw clenched as his cock recedes, leaving only the tip kissing your folds, before he fucks into you again. A shudder quakes through his coils. They constrict around the nest and Shouta pins you to his chest, thick arms held firm around your shoulders and back, tightening with every squirm. “Mine. Knew it had to be you,” came his hushed babbles, composure finally fraying at the seams.

With the surety that you’re not in pain, his pace grows, his rhythm earnest. Laved in shared arousal, you’re so wet every ingress is indelibly easy. To call yourself helpless would be to imply that you wanted to escape. You surrender to the unending, overbearing rapture, sprawled over your Shouta’s lap like a pile of loose skeins with a drunken smile. Chest heaving in exertion despite doing so little. The atmosphere is so oppressively humid that it’s hard to catch your breath.

It feels like he’s carving out something irreplaceable inside of you. A space that only he can fill, a craving only he can sate. Your hips stutter uselessly, grinding your clit against his other cock. Rather than building to a climax it feels as if you’ve toppled into one that never ends, only ebbs and flows without ever ceasing.

Shouta pulls you impossibly closer, so close your could feel the long stretch of his torso, every raised scar and curve. He nudges your temple until your head lolls back against his shoulder, and you’re looking at him. “Soft. You’re so—shit. You’re so soft. Human,” he rasps, pressing a kiss to your forehead. There’s a sheen of sweat on his brow, short tendrils of hair sticking to skin. You flutter around the flared head of his cock as it pulls out, “Look. I can feel you sucking me back in. Made for me, weren’t you?”

You follow his gaze, watching the dark, inhuman length of his cock disappear into your folds again and again, strings of moisture stretching between you. “Shouta,” his name feels thick in your mouth. You blink, air cool against your wet cheeks. “I need—I need you to—”

Nodding deliriously, his bruising grasp on you shifts. Shouta fucks into you feverishly, with an intensity that you fear might engulf you.“Fuck—!” a tremor quakes through his coils. Something audibly snaps in the nest. Shouta’s hips stutter, a long, breathy moan pulled loose deep in his chest, drawn out as a wet, sticky heat fills you—so much that it leaks between your thighs—and the immediate relief of his release has you clawing crescent moons into his shoulders.

Tipping over the crest, a final wave crashes over you. The convulsions force your eyes shut, so tight that pinpricks of light pierce the solid darkness, transforming into a kaleidoscope of vivid colour. The world falls away for a fleeting moment and you only feel yourself clamping around his cock, soaking his lap.

You resurface slowly, as does the sensation returning to your limbs. Venom remedied, easing in your system. You inhale, wince at the tenderness making space beside the contentment in your body, and Shouta runs a smoothing hand down your spine. It sweeps back up to your nape to gently trace the bite on your neck. “How’re you feeling?” he asks. “Did I hurt you?”

You press a kiss to his collar, another under his jaw, “I’m sore and sticky. I’ve never orgasmed that hard in my life. But you didn’t hurt me”. Shouta purrs at that. It’s a noise you’ve only ever heard in the golden hour, when he’s sunning himself. Pure contentment.

You cup his cheek and gently turn him to face you. You kiss him, mouth bruised, fangs peeking through parted lips. Dark eyes soften. He’s no longer inside of you, noted with a weak clench, and his second cock remains half hard between your stomachs. Free to move, you wiggle in his embrace until it lines up, the suggestion kindling to the now twinging emptiness.

Shouta huffs, a loving admonishment, and carefully guides his second cock inside you. You hiss at the sensitivity but it isn’t unpleasant. Satisfaction balloons in your chest and you curl up against him with a pleased hum; no urgency, together for the sake of closeness.

“I’ll feed you and help you wash after I’ve calmed down,” he says. There’s no sign of discomfort or regret in his voice as he stares toward the mouth of the cave. Just a primal need to be alert, to stay vigilant for his mate. “I’ll be a little overbearing for the rest of the night. Be patient with me”.

Your gaze too lingers at the maw, recalling those blood-steeped, ugly stories of monstrous creatures. Indeed there are monsters in the night. But none of them are here.

A wide smile pulls at your lips, “We’ve got all the time in the world”.

#bnha x reader #aizawa x reader #mha x reader #aizawa shouta x reader

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