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parlerenfleurs · 1 year

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J'ai publié 1 910 fois en 2022

C'est 1 200 billets de plus qu'en 2021 !

289 billets créés (15%)

1 621 billets reblogués (85%)

Les blogs que j'ai le plus reblogués :

@yevrosima-the-third

@layzeal

@parlerenfleurs

@tradebabybluetomorrows

@unpretty

J'ai étiqueté 1 804 billets en 2022

Seulement 6% de mes billets ne comportaient pas de tag

#bloom talks - 193 billets

#mdzs - 189 billets

#svsss - 139 billets

#art gallery tag - 122 billets

#wangxian - 96 billets

#tgcf - 73 billets

#rote - 68 billets

#wei wuxian - 53 billets

#mdzs fanart - 49 billets

#feel good tag - 47 billets

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#(i still haven't finished 2ha and since it is licenced now i have no idea if things turn out better after the goodnight mo ran moment ahhhah

Mes billets vedette en 2022 :

n°5

Big fan of how Tianlang-Jun thinks his son and nephew are getting it on with the same guy at the same time and is like: This is fine :) I'm totally accepting and full of tolerance. I love humans! :)

And he means it.

678 notes - publié le 7 août 2022

n°4

I don't know if I'm reaching with that one, but it is established rather quickly that Lan WangJi is determined to mirror Wei WuXian's actions in his first life back at him when he has the means (for instance, the carrying on his back thing, or teasing him with "I do not know" as a call back to the "whatever" moment).

And just as it was a mystery to me why Wei WuXian, during the Yiling date, would entice A-Yuan with toys only to not buy him any, setting him up for disappointment, but I came to understand that it was actually a setup for Lan WangJi to buy it so that A-Yuan would like him (!!!), there is a kinda similar situation that crops up in the present, that was puzzling me but became clear to me on this re-read.

When they come out of Yi City, Wei WuXian is quite depressed and despondent. He has just witnessed Xiao XingChen's sad unlucky fate, and it reminded him very strongly of his own. And the juniors are all sad too, and want to burn paper money, and, sure, HanGuang-Jun is lenient and will let them express their emotions, but he's not that lenient, to let them do something improper/impolite like doing this in front of someone's house, when it is considered unlucky.

Yet, he does nothing, until Wei WuXian snaps out of his state and asks him if he's not going to do anything about it, to which Lan WangJi responds why don't you do it yourself.

And I think it was purposeful. Normally he would probably have told them - look at Lan SiZhui, that boy wasn't left to this own devices, someone taught him was what socially acceptable and didn't let him blunder through needlessly offending people until he figured it out himself.

But he saw the state Wei WuXian was in, and sought to distract him from it, by letting him notice and then handle the juniors' actions.

Clever HanGuang-Jun! He learned all of Wei WuXian's subtle tricks and is using them too!

773 notes - publié le 11 septembre 2022

n°3

In a way, in MDZS, Lan Sizhui is the key and answers to the big moral questions in the story: was it all worth it? Was it all worth it when Wei WuXian lost so much, even his life, when the Wens almost all died anyway, when there was so much collateral damage?

The narrative says: yes, it was worth it, because one child survived, and thrived. Look at that lovely, loveable young man! He is the reason all this was not for naught.

But what I find interesting is, Lan Sizhui is not even that exceptional, he doesn't make a big difference in the world, does he? He's still young, but despite his really good character and keen mind and aptitudes, he's not a genius, he's not renowned, he's not a Hanguang-Jun or a Yilling Laozu. He's just a kind, good-mannered, well brought up young man. Anyone would be happy to claim him as a son or a disciple or a son-in-law. But he's not some big game changer. Even though being a cultivator sets him apart from a good chunk of the normal population already, in his habitual context he's a normal kid. He makes friends, acts silly sometimes, hasn't slayed any Shuanwu of slaughter, got easily led into a trap by a trail of beheaded cats. A normal kid.

And that's important, because this reward is as the sacrifice Wei WuXian made. He didn't make some grand gesture for important people. He did what was right in his view, no more, no less. It wasn't for some greater good, even less for fame. It was simply what was right. And if you do what's right you're not really adding up and subtracting the wins and losses as in a giant thought experiment of the trolley problem. There probably would have been ultimately less death and suffering had Wei WuXian let the Wens to their misery and death quietly. There wouldn't have been a Lan Sizhui, but there would have been a Jiang YanLi, a Jin ZiXuan, and many people that got killed when they attacked him would have lived. But it wouldn't have been right, and so Wei WuXian doesn't think about it that way, and the narrative doesn't either. It tells you life is complicated, and sowing violence reaps more violence, and you can't always "win". But if you do your best, if you keep doing what's right, even if you are only human, and make mistakes, and everyone is against you, it still counts.

It counts. Not for the greater good, not for fame, it counts. Because the whole point is Lan Sizhui gets to live, and grow up, and be a normal kid and have a good life, and that's enough. He doesn't need to be or do anything "more" than that.

1 282 notes - publié le 25 mars 2022

n°2

It is lovely in MDZS how Wei WuXian essentially has the “male” role, in that he is the one pulling on Lan WangJi’s figurative pigtails, the one to give him flowers repeatedly, the one to say he’s pretty out loud and in his head all the time, and the one trying to get him to pay attention to him.

Lan WangJi, meanwhile, gets teased, looks pretty, receives flowers, gets embarassed, defaults to ignoring his crush to appear aloof and keep control, his chaste modesty is being scandalously transgressed via super-meaningful Lan ribbon and cold pond shenanigans, and he secretly keeps all the tokens of Wei WuXian’s affections

And also kisses him forcefully against a tree (but even then in the text and Wei WuXian's view, he's a "shy maiden") and fantasizes about shutting him up in a very specific way

Socially also, Lan WangJi is the pure and treasured daughter niece/sister, thematically, while Wei WuXian is the handsome devilish rake who "corrupts him"

And I find it hilarious how they both subvert everything I've mentioned above (by virtue of being extremely well-written characters who aren't confined to one stereotype but feel like real, complex, subtle people instead), especially after Wei WuXian's resurrection when their dynamic changes to become extremely funny more balanced

1 690 notes - publié le 16 août 2022

Mon billet n°1 en 2022

The power dynamic between Bingqiu is so complex and unhinged.

On the one hand, Shen Qingqiu is the Shizun, and Luo Binghe the disciple. He still pretty much serves and defers to him as such. Shen Qingqiu is the master, the elder, the superior, in a way that can never change in a culture so steeped in respect for such hierarchies, and where reversal or equalization is simply not a thing. Shen Qingqiu himself still refers to himself as "this master" for most of the story (even post canon? I can't remember), and the one quality he appreciates in Luo Binghe (at least that he says aloud) is his obedience. In both their minds, he's very firmly the one who raised and trained Luo Binghe - though with very different connotations depending on who you ask.

On the other hand... well... Luo Binghe plays the obedient puppy-ish disciple, but he pretty much cute/pathetic-bullies his way into anything he wants, because Shen Qingqiu is weak to him and can't say no. So Luo Binghe plays submissive, cries a little, then gets to top Shen Qingqiu into next Sunday in the most unfillial way imaginable lol. Also, and I cannot stress this enough, he's the most powerful person in the world, he doesn't have to serve anyone in a humble cottage. He literally has an empire and is a ruler, but he plays housewife and meek disciple to this one spoiled guy who gave him the correct manual once and head-patted him with abandon.

Also let's not forget that, to Luo Binghe, Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan are pretty seamlessly the same person. This serial head-patter is also the guy who poured hot tea on him and would string him up to beat him and made him sleep in the woodshed like a particularly miserable Cinderella. To him, one day, his cruel master deemed him worthy of his love after he made him go through many trials, and then slam-dunked him into the abyss, and then self-destructed to save him and then turned out to be alive and avoiding him like the plague and then sulked because Luo Binghe did not properly ask his hand in marriage. Luo Binghe may be the most powerful man in the world and have Shen Qingqiu wrapped around his manipulative golden little finger, BUT the grip and ascendant Shen Qingqiu possesses over Luo Binghe's psyche is unparalleled.

BUT the other side of this equation is that Shen Qingqiu feels so guilty, and loves Luo Binghe so much, he can't bear to make him unhappy and folds like a wet paper towel any time there is the merest hint of tears - which is a conscious strategy on Luo Binghe's part! Shang Qinghua told him acting pathetic works, and it does, and so he milks it! Who knows how much of it is real? Not me. Not Shen Qingqiu either, who also does not care that he's being manipulated. He knows he's being manipulated! But it works anyway!

Because what are you going to do when a cute puppy makes sad eyes at you?? Not give him the bit of meat???

You're his master but he owns your heart so that's your fate, now. He's huge and could maul you but he loves you too much and prefers to act spoiled. He sits when you say sit, comes when you say come. You tell him no but he climbs into your lap anyway and you are helpless to stop him so you pet him. It's messy, full of pathos, possibly unhealthy. You're both living your best life.

That's Bingqiu.

1 736 notes - publié le 18 octobre 2022

Obtenez votre année 2022 en revue sur Tumblr →

#année en revue #mon année tumblr 2022 en revue #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #lol at my own blog being in the top five of reblogs #see I thought I talked way more about Scum Villain lately but apparently mdzs still steals the crown #though my number one post is the one about bingqiu #Also I talk way more about personnal stuff than I expected #also also just noticed this is in french but it's fine the template is the same for everyone you all will understand

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blacksunscorpio · 3 years

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Aphrodite No. 1388

Have you ever found yourself inexplicably fascinated with Hollywood sex symbols, fashion, arts, or general glamor? You've probably chalked it up to your Venus placement or stellium in the 2nd or 7th [The houses Venus rules] but what if I told you that might not be the only reason?

Yes, Asteroid Aphrodite No. 1388 is the placement you may want to peep. Especially if she's making prominent placements or aspects to your inner planets. Note: Pay attention to conjunctions/squares/oppositions the most and orbs within 0-3 degrees. Trines and sextiles are of note but only if they are respecting inner planets, the ascendant, and at the aforementioned degrees.

So let's get into it:

Aphrodite in Mythology

was the goddess of sex, love, beauty, passion, fertility, prosperity, and procreation. She was also patron goddess of prostitutes and believed no one should leave this world a virgin. She was wife of the god Hephaestus, god of blacksmiths and fire but also the most notable lover of Ares [her 'Soul mate'. So what does she represent in the birth chart?

All of the above.

Asteroid Aphrodite in her elevated expression is all about love, beauty, talent, and sex appeal. She is compassionate and generous. Independent, strong in her femininity, and charming. This asteroid has the ability to see beauty in everything and has an innate knack for creativity and artistic talents. A developed and healthy expression of sexuality and passion [not the toxic kind but the kind true love stories are made of]. She's all positive pleasure and sensuality. Body positivity and healthy expressions of sex.

In her base or lower expression, she's a bit like a toxic Lilith. She'll manifest as using attractiveness for underhanded means. Infidelity, repression of the sexual drive, callousness in love or arrogance based on vanity, vanity in general, sexual manipulation, fickleness, fixation of impossible standards of beauty, or superficiality regarding aesthetics. [Basically everything wrong with fashion and beauty today.] She can also manifest in the 6th house and/or ill-aspected as those who suffer from body dysmorphia or those who suffer from eating disorders due to these impossible beauty standards. Physical perfection becomes an obsession.

Now, if you have this particular asteroid prominently based in your chart, you may find that you value beauty, pleasure, and romance. There might be a taste for refined aesthetics and/or one can just be naturally gifted with creativity and art. Career-wise, one could find themselves drawn to jobs that revolve around fashion, interior design, modeling, make-up, photography, cooking, etc. If she's touching Mars or in the 8th, one could find themselves making sex work a part of their career as well.

Aphrodite in the signs

Aries: Two words: Sexuality promiscuous. Like the sign of Aries, the fire burns hot then goes out. Freedom and independence are paramount and they value those who see things similarly. Getting too emotionally invested in others is not appearing to them in any way, here for a good time, not a long time. Sporty aesthetic. Athleisure. Sex will likely be hard and fast.

Taurus: Love of the material. Base-level treasure seekers. However, they are typically quite attractive and even look pleasant when they don't put much effort in. Follow trends and keep up with the day-to-day fashion world. Most likely an Instagram fashion influencer. Love of glitz and glam. Shinier the better. Diamonds are their best friend.

Gemini: Serial fuckers. Literally, this aphrodite placement will have a full black book of names. A thousand notches on the belt. A million notches on the bedpost... well, you get the idea. Very charismatic and uses their intelligence to seduce. Sapiosexuals. Stimulate their mind and you might keep their attention... for an hour as opposed to 15 minutes like the rest. Will know everyone and everything about everyone. Life of the party and will charm with their wit.

Cancer: The emotional lover. Don't let this food you though, hurt them and they'll pull out their pincers. This Aphrodite placement loves to be nurtured and taken care of and will often do the same. Mood affects appearance. Charms using one of two things: their hard to get energy [Crabshell] or their love of family and togetherness [4th house]. No in-between, really.

Leo: Worship me vibes. Lovers of attention. This placement is very prideful. They don't like to share [their lovers] at all. Typically though, because of their love of the spotlight, their fashion sense is impeccable. They are hard to miss and will usually light up a room. Ignore them and you'll wound them.

Virgo: Immediate/outwardly "perfect" appearance. Because of this sign's attention to detail, they are often very pristine in their approach. Clean sex- the type in the shower or when one is freshly groomed around the genital area. Will use their "perfection" to pull the cream of the crop in the dating pool their way. This placement can go far in the fashion world and may even become designers. Often do well as dancers or some sort of aesthetic career that involves "precision".

Libra: Serial Flirt. With Aphrodite here, it's like getting a double shot of Venusian energy. Pleasant, charming... naturally beauties not unlike Taurean Aphrodite's. Don't mind casual sex or casual flings but prefer relationships. Very focused on aesthetics and, like Virgo Aphrodites could go far in their fashion world or make-up pursuits. Can be very superficial.

Scorpio: Alluring vibe. They WILL fuck a lot. It's in their nature. Will be loyal if they are in a committed partnership though. Can give off scary vibes or RBF but they feel things deeply. Their aesthetic is dark colors, black as elegance, an intimidating style that appears edgy. Artistically may enjoy all things Tim Burton.

Sagittarius: Vagabond vibes. Eternal traveler. Eternal nomad. Epitome of promiscuity here. However, quite laid back. Their aesthetic probably has something to do with maps or cartography. Bohemian energy with pictures or fabrics from the far east or even Africa. Most likely has a buddha head somewhere in their home. Speak to them in an accent or different language to turn them on.

Capricorn: Independent vibes. These aphrodite placements are not keen on sharing their lives too much with others. Very business-like. Sexually though, they are insatiable. Machines. They like things to but black tie or button up. This does not mean they aren't laid back, they just like things to be all work with very little play until said work is done. Name brands and expensive suits/dresses? They're all about that. It's a status symbol thing. What Caps are famous for.

Aquarius: Avant-garde vibes. This placement will cut their hand off before they lose their freedom. More vagabond-esque than Sag tbh. Will love a style that shocks you or is out of the ordinary. Not traditional in any sense. Their sex will be kinky or they'll prefer it to have some sort of spice. Missionary? Nope. Expect a toy or ten. Pansexuals. Free love. Don't try to get them to commit unless they're ready.

Pisces: Subtle vibes. Subtle style. Dreamy style. Sexually they need to be emotionally connected. May find themselves falling in love often with the idea of someone than the reality of them. Lovers of the grunge and druggy era. 90's vibes are their aesthetic with a touch of the ethereal. Messy art studios, messy hair, even messier love lives. Might attract co-dependent types. Day-dreamy.

#had to write about this one because of all the the asks blowing up my inbox #hope this helps #asteroid astrology #aphrodite 1388 #astro tumblr #astrology

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messwriting · 3 years

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THE SMUT PILE SECRET SANTA

Golden Eyes

Demon!Kuroo Tetsurou x Female Reader

Rating: E for explicit | Don’t read this if under eighteen.

Note: HOE HOE HOE INDEED! HAHAHAHA

This is my secret santa gift for my dear elf Alisha -- @rivendell101! I do hope you enjoy, I just tried to channel all of Kuroo’s wicked energy into this and sprinkled it with our beloved monsterfucking. Sorry for all the questions, I just wanted to surprise you but also include only things you’d like. ;-; Hope you enjoy and MERRY SMUTMAS <3

Big thanks and lots of kisses to my dear Tay @deathcab4daddy who read this, betaed, and said it wasn't the train wreck I thought it was 😂🥺😘💕

Warnings: This is loosely inspired by the manhwa DEAR DOOR, by Pluto, from which the art above is also from (Satan is fucking hot)! Monsterfucking - Demon. Use of tongue and tail in a very uh naughty way. Magic makes you horny at some point (tho i don’t think is dub-con?), but just to be sure Magic Manipulation. Assplay with tongue and finger penetration. Denials, oh so many denials. Sprinkle of spanking. Soft pain play. Overstim. Oral sex. Rough sex. CHOKING. BITING. MARKING. Demon uhhhh lure? aijaisajisj He’s seducing you with his devilish powers. CORRUPTION. RELIGIOUS BLASPHEMY (sorry jesus).

Word count: ~7.4k. I can’t write anything short, why?!

“So… you’re a demon?” You ask, weirdly not completely panicking over the fact that this brick wall of a man showed up out of nowhere in the middle of your living room as if this were just another Sunday night. The stranger smiles your way with a lopsided grin and the shivers that run through your body seem to support his affirmation.

“Did the horns give it away?” The dark-haired demon asks, with a smile that could make him the single male model of some sin’s propaganda. Your eyes flick to his tail, long and thick, moving calmly in waves behind him, and come up to the unbelievably wide black wings sprouting from his back and threatening to blow a hole in your ceiling.

“Sure,” You say while your eyes come back to his face, taking a second look at the long, twisted black horns sprouting from his high forehead and mixing with his thick raven hair. “Let’s say it’s the horns.”

He snickers but his golden stare is very much sharp on you. Even before it pinned you in place you had found that your legs had begrudgingly refused to move in front of the massive presence in your living room.

“You’re an interesting little thing, aren’t you?” He muses out loud, his arms crossing in front of his body while one hand cradles his own face while he looks down at you. The gold irises glint in the dark like a beacon, the small crystal-like black pupil like that of a wild animal. “Normally people would have been screaming by now. Or passing out. Maybe running.” He doesn’t move from where he stands, but his sentient tail floats over to you, lightly caressing the side of your face as a child stroking their pet; it moves under your chin, over your jaw and cheekbone, pats your hair back, and comes to circle your throat.

It doesn’t squeeze -- but the threat is pretty much clear.

“I don’t think my legs can move.” You tell him in a breathless voice, panic eating away at the corners of your sanity the more you stare at the insanity in front of you. A monstrosity of man with a tail and wings to crown it swaying in your living room as if it’s all okay, as if this is real life. You shudder in place, a whole-body wave of dread that moves along your body and makes you tremble as all the hair on your being stands in place. He grins down at you, wicked and pretty, a cheshire air of mischief in the way his golden irises glint in the dark background of his eyes and mingle with the dim lit room to go with the roll of white pearls of sharp-looking teeth in his mouth.

“Am I dreaming?” Your thoughts escape from your lips in a breath as his tail grounds you to reality, burning hot and heavy around your neck. It contrasts awkwardly with the image in front of you, which your brain keeps trying to deny as true, but the weight of his tail pulls you from the edge of disbelief and pins you in place, your limbs turning cold as you feel unable to move. “Or am I going insane, somehow?”

“Do you think your brain is failing you, little one?”

“Well, seems like the logical reason why there’s a winged man in my living room. With horns and-- a tail.” Your voice stops and you gulp right before your eyes snap once again to his devilish black and golden eyes. “Wait. Are you a demon? Is… a demon in my living room?” The more you speak the least sense it makes. The thing in front of you seems to be very amused by the twinges of panic and disbelief coloring your voice and expression. “Why?”

He smirks and his wings do a fluttering thing before they curve inside his back, two massive black things even when they’re closed. “Must be your lucky day.”

You snort even through your scared haze. “Not exactly what one thinks when considering demons.”

“Ah, bad rep.” Kuroo says and he floats as if he’s sitting on a chair, his legs crossing as he supports an elbow on his thigh and his face on his hand. It’s both parts unnerving and enthralling, and you’re struck with the fact of how big he is once again. “God’s marketing team is hella good. We get the rep for everything going on now-- the crops died? Oh, the devil. Psycho kid? Demoniac. Fucked up government? Send from hell. Sex? Devilish.” He sighs, his pretty lips jutting in a pout as his beautiful face falls into a tired mask. “It’s tiresome to be the poster-boys to all things wicked.”

“Well, seems like you do the part just fine.” You hide yourself through some small sarcasm, as you grumble the remark.

“Hah.” His sharp teeth flash in the dark at the barked laugh, a gasped sound as if he truly found your remark funny. “We get used to it,” He nods your way and then shrugs, a never-leaving smirk on his lips. “And I like the style.”

“Sure,” you say, despite the clear unconvinced tone of your voice as your eyebrows shut up slowly, eating the distance from your hairline until you blink and tiptoe around your next words, “not to be rude, Mr. Demon--”

“Call me Kuroo.” He cuts you off charmingly, as one would in flirting; a playful arch in his brows as his smile spreads just that bit more over his face. You just now realize the appeasing traces of it, the sharp angle of his jaw, the high of his square cheekbones, and the elegant line of his nose; then your eyes fly over the protruding circles of his horns, and your eyes go round almost involuntarily.

“Okay…” It breaches your lips along with a puff of breath. You blink a few times before continuing, still doubting your own eyes as they thread over the massive monster in front of you. You wonder if he’d look better if he’s bent to your height, but then again that wouldn’t do much about those broad shoulders, engulfing your wall where he stands. “Not to be rude, Mr. Kuroo, but…” you steady yourself with a deep breath before continuing, your hand flying to press against your eyes before you can reopen then and see the exact same thing from before -- a demon in your house. “What the fuck you’re doing here, exactly?”

He smiles, pleased with your cussing, apparently. Then his eyes turn focused, predatory, and they’re locked on you.

“I’ve come to offer a deal, little one.”

“A deal?” You parrot, lost in the pull of those golden eyes.

“Yes,” Kuroo smirks, lips splitting unnaturally over sharp canines. He keeps floating in his position, face supported on a big, clawed, hand. “And a quite good one, too.”

“You… You’re at my home, to offer me a deal, right after the small rant on Devil’s bad marketing.” You list the things, doubt thick in your voice.

Kuroo smiles, but it looks wrong. “Yes, dear.”

“Okay,” You risk, though it comes out as a question. Kuroo seems pleased, though. “Go ahead, I guess?”

“I need something from you.”

“Oh shit, is this the soul thing?” Your eyes widened again, hands coming to stand protectively in front of you even as you doubt you could do much to fend him off if he wanted to do you harm. “I’ve seen Supernatural, I’m not selling my fucking soul okay?!”

“Chill, kitten, I don’t really mind your soul.” He’s rather nonchalant, golden eyes completing a circle along his eyeballs before they fall once again on you while Kuroo comes out from his floating position to pace calmly over to you. Then, his sharp teeth split his face wickedly in two, an alluring characteristic in the way his lips form an overconfident grin as he bends over you in your place on the couch. “It’s your body I’m interested in.”

“My… body?”

“Have you ever heard of hell portals?” His face engulfs your line of vision as his tail angles your head back to look up at him, a clawed finger gliding over your jawline at that.

“No? Should I? Who do you think I am to know about hell doors?” It happens again, your thoughts slipping through your lips at the same rate as you think them, the sarcastic tone of your mind also dripping out much as if that had been your intention all along.

He seems rather happy at that, too.You wonder if he’s prying the truth from you somehow. “Well, you’re one.”

“What?” You ask, stupidly, as his face gets further from you and he straightens back into his full height.

“A door, to hell.” Kuroo finishes, cheerfully. It looks, once again, wrong on his face, as if it's more of a threat than a joke.

The seconds pass by as falling rocks over metal, loud and rattling, a restless moment in which you keep staring at the monster --demon-- face and even as his horns stay in place and his curved wings twitch, it stills feels wholly detached from reality; an insane, out of this plane moment in which you doubt your whole being - your eyes and your ears and your brain and your skin, where the weight and warmth of his tail still surrounds your neck.

“Now I know I’m losing my mind.” You murmur to yourself as you can’t make peace between reality and, well, this reality.

“Ah, you humans are such disbelievers. I’m here in front of you, saying you’re a portal, and you still doubt your own eyes as if they’re the origin of your offense.” Kuroo mocks you, crossing his arms in front of his body and for a second your eyes linger on the blackness of his clawed hands, the weird way they’re shaped as if something is enveloping them, elongating claws on the point of his fingers with the color of a moonless night. Still, the acidic tone in his voice makes you perk up with infuriating annoyance, and it seeps from you at the same rate as it fills you.

“Well, sorry if it’s hard for me to believe I’m a fucking hell portal.” You sass him, fiery eyes closing on gold. It’s even more annoying that he smiles through your taunt. “Ten minutes ago I didn’t even believed in hell.”

“You can keep doubting if you want. Aren’t you doing so even when you see me here? All I need is passage and then you’ll be free to doubt once again,” his eyes glow brighter as he closes in on yours in a way that has you swaying in place, a vexatious air around him that’s unmistakable; but then again he is a demon, so maybe that’s just the norm. “That is… if you want.”

A shiver runs down your spine at the promise in his voice, and your own trembles when you ask, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That this can be a one-time thing -- or not.”

You blink, a bit lost.

“What’s this, exactly?” Your brain pulses in pain at the quantity of information it has to make sense and still try to understand. It’s too much and soon you’re pressing your hands on your face in frustration, “Dude, you’re not making sense.”

“It’s easy.” Kuroo says and suddenly you’re yanked up by thin air, floating in front of his fingers at his will as he twirls your body in the air as if you’re some sick kind of roulette. “Inside you, there’s a portal. I’ll activate it, and go to hell. In exchange, I’ll give you something.” As he speaks, clawed hands slowly and maliciously thread over the valley of your breasts and then down your middle, his golden eyes like a lighthouse to your wandering attention. “Something I know you desire, but you may not even know so. May not even accept yourself.” As his fingers approach the appex of your sex, you’re rounded in the air abruptly and set right on your feet in front of him, safe and sound and dizzy, feeling like prey to those eyes. “It may be this single time, or, if you accept my deal, it can be more.”

You breathe some big gulps of air before speaking in a wavering voice, “Something I wish? And you won’t tell me what that would be?”

“Essentially, you know. You just may be in… denial.” His eyes flash that golden glint once again, twirling molten pools of liquid sun on his face. Their constant, slow motion never-ending circles seeping inside your consciousness, making your mind blank, slowly flowing into a haze in which you feel lost but safe; warmth flowing from it over you as if you’re being dipped in melted honey, weighted down but comfortable, as moving against warm waves in a tropic beach.

It tips from your mouth as you’re swimming in the molten pools of gold, pulled out from your body as the warm breath from your lungs, heated and pliant. “Okay.”

The spell crashes as his grin spreads through his face, the self-satisfied smirk of a cat who got its prey. Just as you’re burning in embarrassment and ready to cancel whatever that was you just said yes to, a sudden wave of warmth spreads from your face to your feet, your hair undulating at the force it hits you, and travelling so quickly you can feel the way your toes curve while a buzz crosses them, a pleasant but foreign thrill settling in your bones. You send him a nasty glare.

“The fuck have you done to me?”

“Me? Nothing, kitten.” Kuroo tells you but everything from his expression, to his stance and the fucking satisfied smirk he sports tell you it’s a lie. Your glare turns worse. His lips are curved up in a telling manner but he concedes with a tilt of his head. “I just lowered your inhibitions, relax.”

“Why would you do that?” The questions zap from your mouth just as you think it, and in a fleeting thought you wonder if that isn’t exactly what he meant.

“I told you, I’m going to give you what you want.” Kuroo says as he stops in front of you, a sexy, powerful sway in the way he moves and towers over you that you can’t help but appreciate. “But I need you to accept your darker wishes,” It’s a murmur, raspy in his deep voice, and you breathe the words in as the indecent, luscious feeling swell inside your being and seems to find it’s home in your chest-- and drip from your sex. “And then embrace me.”

“I don’t want you.” You tell him, but it comes breathless, weak, and as Kuroo’s golden eyes pierce yours, you can feel as he pinpoints your lie.

“Then let’s change that, shall we?”

He wastes no time in maneuvering you into his arms, pulling you through thin air until his feral hands close around your middle and neck. Kuroo tilts your head back while grazing a single clawed finger over your pulse-point and up to your jawline, and then his breathing comes loud and misty against your bared skin.

“Wait--” You plead as your breath comes in long puffs and when you wet your lips before continuing, a freakishly long, wet and hot tongue comes to lick a big stripe of your skin and you yelp loudly, “-- the fuck!”

Kuroo, on the other hand, literally hums approvingly and brings his nose to glide over your skin, soft breathing as his hands pull you closer into his massive chest. You realize now, at the proximity, just how big and broad he is, somehow between terrifying and uncanningly acceptable.

His body runs hot, the temperature difference between yours quite clear when your skin feels so heated by his touch, clothes you found nice now feeling constricting the more of you that touches him.

The planes of his chest are hard and toned, lean muscle and strength as he moves you up without effort, your feet dangling way above the ground and still no hint of struggle as he supports your weight. As you get closer, those yellow irises centered in black globes seem to pry inside your mind, big and all encompassing; it makes something coil in your chest, much like panic but tame as agitation.

“Wait--” You breathe out and look down, shocked at the distance you found yourself from the ground. Something crawls from your chest as a distressed groan, “I--”

Kuroo tilts your head back and -- not without sending you a smirk -- delves down to close your lips together.

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t this -- you’re swept away by the kiss, amazed at how well your mouths work together, how perfectly plush and soft his thin lips feel on yours, how pleasing the motions of his tongue are against yours, how tasteful his movements are, and before long, you’re breaking the kiss but because you need to breathe, to pull some air inside yourself to battle the haze settling in your mind.

It does nothing to aid you though.

Your body feels achingly flushed, avid, weirdly pliant and it is with mild surprise that you feel yourself drooling inside your panties. Something tells you to be indignant, to kick him, to bite and claw, but instead you’re sighing the weakest of noises, spiralling back to his expert lips, falling deeper inside the slow seduction that this demon offers.

Kuroo moves you calmly, his big, searing hot hands threading across your body and working goosebumps in it’s trail even as all he does is touch you over your clothes. Your hands, previously abandoned by the side of your body start to move up his body, spreading your small palms over his chest, and instead of pushing him off, you’re pulling him closer, opening your mouth wider, your legs hiking over his side as if you’re begging for the moment he’ll pick you up.

“Hmm, what a nice little thing you are.” Kuroo murmurs over your lips, taking in the wrecked expression you sport with just a kiss. “So honest, too.” His claws glide over your thigh, hiked on his side. It doesn’t hurt, but the feeling of something sharp sliding against your skin makes your heart rate pick up and your panties grow wetter.

“You’ll like this too, kitten, don’t worry.” His syrupy voice enchants you as he hooks a razor-sharp claw on the side of your shorts, threads up slowly and precise until the ripping sound breaks through your haze. When you look down, your hooded eyes turn wide, taking in the fact he just ripped your shorts and how easily they slide to the ground once they’re free from your hiked leg. The panties stay, but they’re not exactly much.

“Hey!” You turn to look up at him, puffed cheeks in indignation, and one of his hands yanks your head back, angling your body in a arch as his other hand glides over your thigh to your lower belly, sharp thumb swiftly climbing up your body and with such, ripping your comfy t-shirt. The feeling of something scratching along your middle and the valley of your breasts make your breathing catch up on your lungs, too afraid it will press enough to hurt if you move. You never knew a menace could be this seductive.

Still, the anticipation coils inside you, pours from between your legs as your skin feels too small to hold all the feelings cursing to you, your breasts heavy and your lips falling open in a breath that Kuroo drinks from your lips, attentive and dedicated as his tongue comes out and slides over your lips.

His eyes glint in the dark, sharp and focused.

“You know what? I think I’ll like you.”

The air feels cold on your heated skin, especially when he holds you so close. Small trembles pass through your frame as you melt inside his kiss, falling deeper inside the pleasure he offers you and Kuroo barely started. Your nipples perk up without attention and when his rough palm rolls over them, their new-found sensitivity makes it impossible for you to not let out a sound. It’s something meek and surprised, but Kuroo seems proud of it and decided to pull more out of you.

Magically, you’re yanked up, floating until your middle is at the height of his neck.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Your head is millimeters from hitting the ceiling, your hands touching it as a way to protect yourself, you throw a nasty glare down at his face just for him to make a half-circle in the air and your upper body be launched behind.

“No!” You’re laying on thin air -- your heart beating so fast your blood pulses in your head as you look over your shoulder and notices just how impossible is the situation going on, where you’re levitating a few meters from the ground.

If he stops now, would you go down crashing? Would you die from such a fall? Questions swirl in your mind enough for you to forget whats going on - the way a sharp claw swiftly cuts the side of your panties - until something wet, firm and long prods on your dripping folds.

“What--” Your first action is to hitch your neck up so you can confirm that it is what you think it is, and, granted, Kuroo is slowly prying you open, his huge tongue threading on your most sensitive parts. As he laps a long stripe down your pussy, he looks up at you in flashing gold, seeming extremely pleased.

Kuroo winks at you, depraved.

Your blood is rushing through your veins at such a haste that you feel dizzy, and your whole body is fervent as something very loud breaks through your lips as Kuroo’s tongue moves and presses on your slit, circles your clit, and moves in serpentine movements along your puffy cunt.

You didn’t realize before how the texture of his tongue was a bit rugged but now you’re suffering the full extent of its benefits as he eats you out sloppily, enough that you’re dripping down on the carpet as his monstrously long and dexterous tongue plays with your cunt as if that’s his sole mission on earth. Kuroo hums against your clit, makes your whole body tremble with it, and at some point, he manages to press his tongue flat against your clit and still reach enough that it dips softly inside your entrance, slowly and deliciously prying the inner ring of your sex open, then broader.

You can’t help the noises falling from your lips and when one of his rough, clawed hands close around your breast, the pressure inside you peaks and you’re panicking at how close you are to your first orgasm, from his tongue alone, at an impossible long and sentient… demon tongue.

But he retreats just as your mouth falls open, your throat constricted by the scream that instead becomes an indignated gasp. “Fuck--! I was--”

“Hmmm, I know.” Kuroo answers you, his hands coming to hold your thighs open as you tremble from the effort. His thumb pulls your cunt lips apart and his golden eyes glint, fierce and pleased at the same time. “Aren’t you an interesting plaything? Skyrocketing into pleasure head first when I was just getting a taste.” He licks his lips, his canines making an appearance as his ridiculous long tongue cleans his face and chin where your juices have leaked to.

His grin should be illegal. “Delicious, by the way. But I’m not ready to end this so fast.”

“End this… fast?” You ask, still having difficulty in thinking straight when you’re floating up in the air with your legs spread open in front of his face, his thumbs spreading you open as if you’re his meal and he likes to play before eating.

“Maybe we should go somewhere more comfortable.” Kuroo muses out loud and before you can blink you’re falling, screaming in your surprise until you bounce on the comfortable cushion of your bed. The air is knocked out of you in a oof, but Kuroo just looks down at you happily, his smile still looking mischievous as if that’s his whole personality trait.

You know what, maybe it is.

“Warn a girl.” You tell him, and he winks your way, just as he pulls your naked body to the edge of the bed.

“Consider yourself warned: i’m about to eat you up.”

His massive hands engulf you and arch your body into his eager mouth, where his tongue lavish at your sex in a way that has you feeling as if they everywhere and at the same time. The muscle is thick and long, firm as it presses from your entrance to your clit, as it rounds your sensitive spot and slithers down through your pussy lips, slurping it with his lips as his wicked tongue never stops its prodding.

One of his hands circles your body, closes around your breast and tweeks your hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger, painfully, deliciously, something obscene curling inside you at the way the feelings mix, the pain and the bliss and it doesn’t help that Kuroo moves his mouth to the sensitive and fragile skin of your inner thighs and build a whole trail of bite marks and throbbing hickeys.

Something firm, large and hot slither up your body, circling a breast but finding it’s home at a circle around your neck -- his tail -- and the more vocal you become, the more it seems to close around your throat, your heart beating on your fingertips as they claw at anything of Kuroo’s you can reach, hazy and breathless at the way he discloses your wicked desires so plainly, the way his every move seems to discover layer after thick layer of temptations that you have hidden so deep with partners before.

“Such a pretty little thing you are,” Kuroo coos to you when he presses a thick finger past the tight ring of your cunt. “So honest and eager,” It moves, prods, another one joins and soon they’re scissoring against your walls, opening your tender flesh so he can sink himself in further.

The mere thought has you moaning out loud -- unbelievable and yet, you feel how your arousal drips from your cunt to your thighs.

“Ahhhh~” Kuroo exhales as his tongue laps a long stripe of your juices. “So pure.” He says against your pussy lips, kissing them and then letting his long tongue slide further until it prods between the cheeks of your ass, immediately falling into circular motions on the furl of muscle. You yelp but midway it becomes an embarrassing moan. “This just makes me wanna ruin you more.”

It’s too much -- he has to know it’s too much, and as Kuroo curves his fingers just right inside your sloppy cunt and his tongue breaches just the tiniest bit the resistance of your ass, your eyes are falling open in huge plates, a long moan of his name on your tongue as you’re so close to cumming you can practically taste the high already.

“No, not now.” Kuroo chastises you as he retreats his tongue and fingers from you, the arch of your body ready to snap curling in a tremble of a denied release.

“Too soon, kitten. I want to savor this.” His tone comes out between pleased and patronizing, and it makes your cunt clench, empty.

You heave, unfocused eyes blinking the wicked golden away. “What--” A deep breath. “What do you want from me?”

“Wrong question, kitten.” Kuroo tells you just as his massive frame bends over you, the wicked eyes seducing you in once again -- not that they ever stopped. “Now that I got a taste,” He murmurs practically against your lips, and you lick where his breath hits, captivated, “I want all of you.”

He lets you fall on the bed once again and maneuvers your body without difficulty until your ass is high in the air and your thighs are spread, his tail lighter around your throat, fondly slithering on your jaw. His knee presses on the mattress until it squeaks and his hands massage from your thighs to your ass, prying it open and kneading it with hard, powerful hands.

“Beautiful.” He praises you and you swear your pussy throbs and flutters hard enough to make a gushing noise. By the way Kuroo snickers, it may be true.

His tongue is the first thing you feel right after his laboured breathing on your cunt. It pries you open, thick muscle sliding inside you, big and wet and dexterous and you’re moaning against the mattress in seconds.

Kuroo seems pleased even though all he does is hum, his large hands press on your back and the other opens your cheeks wide for his assault. Something hot prods your asshole, and you’re surprised at how careful his fingers can be while maneuvering the wetness left by his tongue there. They move slowly but surely as he presses and retreats, opening you from two fronts and still seemingly not enough.

He decides to change, his tongue coming out of your sex and then sliding to your ass as his thumbs open your lips for him to watch as he dips two big fingers inside your cunt. The stretch, the massive pleasure of being assaulted by both ends make you clench and cream around his digits, once again climbing up the familiar euphoric road.

This time, however, Kuroo stops you differently.

His hard, heavy hand falls on your ass cheeks forcefully in what must be his intention of being light. You yelp loudly and groan, somehow caught between winding down and flying right over the edge.

“Oh, hoho~” Sounds from his voice and he descends his hand once again on your ass, heavy and startling. It sounds so loud and so lewd in the empty room, your whole being burns in place, trembling from the effort of holding yourself in all fours and the pure elation growing inside you, spreading from your fingertips to the depraved center of your being.

As the sting settles in your senses, it winds down your orgasm but makes a renewed wave drip from your cunt and down your thigh. You’re surprised at how it excites you, the pain, but fuck it still stings. His hand falls on your ass a couple more times but then his hot palms knead the stinging flesh, an exquisite feeling spreading over you as it throbs and burns and you melt.

“Ugh! Fuck!” You groan, biting the mattress, unable to tell him to stop and too embarrassed to tell him to keep going.

“You really are a nice plaything, aren’t you?” Kuroo asks but it seems as if it's more for himself, his digits collecting your wetness as he dips once again inside your cunt, spreading his fingers apart and sliding a third inside just as his thumb circles your clit lightly and you howl, sensitive and wanton, too eager into tasting bliss.

This time, at least you’re half-conscious he’s not letting you cum. Kuroo stops, leaving you clenching for something, anything and gives you nothing. His immoral smirk seems to sound in the air, much as the way his tail leaves your throat to circle your hair and yank you back, stuffing your open mouth with the fingers that were just inside you. You lap obediently at them and he groans in your ear, teeth nibbling at your skin. It’s almost as if he’s tempted.

“We’re almost ready, kitten.” He tells you with a hoarse voice, all sin and flames, “Hold on.”

“Ready?” You question poorly with a mouth stuffed of fingers, but he understands and nods your way, his tongue licking the spit that starts dripping from the corner of your mouth at how broad his fingers open it.

You don’t see if Kuroo undress or if he just magically gets naked behind you, the startling thing being the incredible feeling of his hot skin on yours, the dazzling feeling of his hard planes of muscle on your back, the sublime sight of his skin marked by faint scars; When you feel the scalding, throbbing thick member at the side of your thigh, however, you have to look back.

“Oh my God,” You murmur at the sight of his cock. It’s proportional to his form, but that just means it’s ridiculously big, a veiny, swollen thing that seems looming as it stands close to you, and it clicks in your slow mind just what he meant by almost ready.

“Nope, I’m on the other team here.” Kuroo grins at you as he turns you with your back on the bed, spreads you on the cushion until your thighs hurt from the effort. His tail sways behind him as if to paint a scene, and you realize his wings are nowhere to be seen now, “Though I do think it’s some kind of poetic justice to have you screaming and blaspheming jesus while I fuck you silly.”

The higher part of your cheekbones alights with flames at the implication and you gasp back the words you planned on speaking when Kuroo’s hand pivots your lower back up to his mouth and closes his efforts on your neglected clit as his freak thick tongue enters you in one go.

You cannot explain the sensation of such a soft muscle invading your walls, or the way in which it seems to focus so expertly on your weak spots, but you’re too wound up not to fall head first into rapture.

When he stops this time, you actually curse him, in the most wrecked sound that has ever left your lips.

“Ughhhhhhh--Fuck you!”

The bastard laughs, debauched, then deposits a kiss over your pussy as his golden eyes fix on you. “Now you’re ready.”

Kuroo adjusts until you’re both at the bed, pulling you up on his powerful thighs until his cock bounces over your navel and reaches way too high for you to actually be calm. But then he retreats his hips, bent over you so his lips can steal the air from your lungs just as his large hand palms at your breasts and his tail slither by your side.

“Try not to cum too fast, kitten.”

“Easier said than done,” you grumble back against his lips and let yourself fall into the ruthless ecstasy of being spread open on his cock. His lips thread on the side of your jaw, under your neck, biting and sucking on your skin as his hands divide themselves between holding you up and pawing at every bit of you they can reach.

Everything feels so good, as if he knows your inner thoughts by hint alone -- your toes curl at each newfound area that receives his onslaught, you’re contorting at how good his mouth feels on your pulsepoint as he slowly starts to sink his cock inside you. It’s a weird feeling, to feel so full and yet still so eager, but you’re welcoming him at each torturous inch he manages to squeeze inside your tight walls. Your body trembles from the effort, Kuroo’s tongue slides from your neck to your nipple as his hand climbs up and settles around your throat, his fingers enveloping your neck.

Your heart picks up enough that you feel it beating on your ears as you search for his eyes and finally you’re pinned in place under the sharp gold and their twisted intent.

“Scream for god if you want me to stop.” Is the warning he gives you before his fingers start constricting around your neck, your airways blocked as your chest starts to heave. And in between the small twinge of anxiousness and alarm, you realize just how much that entices you, how much it makes you burn and crave. Somehow you feel corrupted, falling into desires that threaten to peel you apart and leave you exposed.

Kuroo’s cock keeps slowly stretching your insides and his tongue twirls your nipple, your lungs burning for air and your eyes rolling inside your skull as you skyrocket into blissful free-fall.

“Oh, hell yes.” You listen but don’t register as your body seems to be crushed under the massive pressure of your climax, burning and bright, sound ringing in your head that you come to find out it’s from your hoarse moan, your breathing laboured as Kuroo allows you to suck in air during your peak.

It dawns on you as you’re coming back to your body that theres a twinge of soft pain indicating Kuroo has bottomed out, his muscular thighs pressing flush against yours, the feeling incredible but fuck so much right now.

As Kuroo nestles himself entirely inside of you, you feel as if your focus shifts, the task to not concentrate all of your attention on the massive hot cock spliting you in two is difficult. Your body feels tight, and not just from your fluttering walls that are constricting around him.

Kuroo sends you a big smile above your head, twinkling eyes in the dark. “Now, hold on.”

You do your best to do so, your arms latching onto him with all the strength you can muster as his hips retreat and then slam back inside you. You’re jolted at each push and pull, the sensual motions so depraved as the noises echo in the room, and you’re dragged into the ferocious pleasure that threatens to overwhelm you, and despite the fact you’ve cum just few moments before, as his tail slides between your bodies and circles and pats at your clit, you’re screaming and, quite unbelievably, cumming again.

“Now we’re very ready.” Kuroo says in a grunt above you, shameless grin as his eyes do their golden thing once again. He lets you stop trembling, peppering small kisses along your collarbone until you’re breathing normally again, but something tells you you’re just being fooled.

“What?” You tiredly question, the feeling of dread confirming your suspicion.

“We have the whole night ahead of us, little one.” Kuroo nudges at the side of your face, bites softly at the junction of your jaw. “Or we could have more. All you need to do is say yes and i’ll mark you nice and easy here--” His teeth softly nibble on your pulsepoint, “and you’ll be mine.”

“Oh, god.”

“Haha, wrong again.” His eyes pierce yours, swirling gold as molten honey dripping over your body and weighting your mind down. “Go ahead, tell me what you want.”

It tips out, softly and raw, and you have to close your eyes to hide your emotion. “To belong.”

“Oh, my little thing.” Kuroo softly murmurs on your ear, “Belong to me, then.”

You’re swaying despite lying down, something big and heavy coiling inside your chest as you blink, “I don’t want to belong to someone who isn’t mine.”

It’s a big truth to leave out -- the need for companionship, but a mutual one, a lasting one, a trusting one. You don’t want to be alone, but you also don’t want to have someone who doesn’t belong to you, too.

Kuroo just smiles, golden eyes on yours, melting you from the fierceness alone. “Exactly,” he speaks against your lips, the taste of his breath on your tongue and you eagerly gulp it down, wickedly licking at his lips. “But i’ll be yours, too.”

In your hazed state, that’s all you need to hear, so you just shyly nod -- and Kuroo growls, angles your head to the side, and sears a marking bite on your neck -- deep, and painful. You mewl, body arching into his touch, and his tongue laps at the fresh wound, making it nice and numb.

“Now, let’s go to the main course.” Kuroo gives you no rest, retreating his hips and slamming back inside. “Don’t forget to breathe!” He teases between your moans.

Once the fucking starts, it’s a frantic mess, and it goes on forever until the mere feeling of Kuroo’s cock leaving your heat is enough to make you whimper at the loss. The feeling of him inside your walls, a thing that mingles with your being, seares your memory until you cannot remember the feeling of not being split open on his thick cock. As you melt away from the overstimulation of having no rest while Kuroo contently and incessantly keeps pistoning inside you, your painful pleasure mixes until you’re climbing into something that feels weirdly uncanny, your mind -- or is it your body? -- twirls inside itself as if there’s something more than just sweet release ready to burst out.

Kuroo has made you both teeter on the edge of pleasure and fall into it so many times you can’t differentiate the feelings that come now, this sensation of something being pulled out of you like the many orgasms he caused.

“Hmmm… Yes, my time is coming.” Kuroo groans, his hips movements turning sloppy, apparently displeased with his fucking being cut short while you very much suck a thankful breath at being able to rest. Kuroo’s teeth descend on your neck once again, his hot tongue over the pulsating mark of his bite and you feel him shudder and groan your name as he finally - finally - peaks, the feeling of hot spurts spreading inside you.

As he cums, Kuroo brings a finger to rub over your abused clit softly and between your oversensitivity and the fact he angles his fat cockhead to softly pound over your sweet spot as he sails his own climax, there’s very little you can do but be ripped apart in bliss, once again, by him. This time is weird. Even as pleasure keeps swirling inside you and building up with the eerie sensation, you can do very little but hold on and wait until the waves crash and pass and you can blissfully surrender into the darkness of exhaustion.

However, the freakish sensation twirling inside yourself builds and builds until you’re light-headed from the feeling and you just then realize how you’re shining, and how Kuroo has disappeared.

You don’t even have it in yourself to panic. Your body feels heavy and used, spent in the best way possible, but still completely unused to such a frantic session as every muscle in your being throbs, and your eyelids weigh the world as they fall closed and you’re engulfed by darkness.

[bonus scene]

When you wake up in the morning, you are engulfed in a nice blanket, dressed in some mismatched set of pajamas, feeling as if you just had the best sleep of your life - and a weird vivid dream to go with it. You’re blinking up to your ceiling, stretching on your bed and satisfied with how the knots break in small noises as you sit up, when you feel just how sore you are, how your body is heavy despite satisfied, how your thighs burn and your sex throbs.

Everything crashes up on your mind way too fast, and you’re suddenly torn between passing out and bolting up, but as you try to get up your body falters and a big, hard, hot hand plants itself over your middle and pulls you right back at the bed.

Of course, you scream.

“Shh, kitten, there’s people trying to sleep here, y’know?”

“What--How--What are you doing here?” You shriek, looking at what is definitely the demon you thought you dreamed, but in a way more humanized version if the absence of his horns, claws and massive wings are anything to go by. The golden eyes are sharp as ever, but no black background to them, and you can infer by that much that his sinful tail probably isn't around too.

The grin he sends your way gives you war flashbacks that make your skin prickle with goosebumps.

“Well, yesterday was quite nice.” He tells you and you can feel your whole face burn from his tone alone. “So I decided that hell can wait a bit more while I have more fun with you.” His eyes flash with a weird energy, and Kuroo brings his fingers to glide over his bite mark at your neck. The throbbing mark you had forgotten about until now. “After all, you’re mine now.”

“Oh, fuck.”

You’re doomed.

#kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader smut #kuroo smut #tw monsterfucking #haikyuu smut

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ppersonna · 4 years

Text

the landlord - myg | m

↳ summary- your air conditioner breaks right at the height of a recordbreaking heat wave. good thing your hot landlord, yoongi, knows how to attend to any needs you may have.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 4.3k

↳ pairing- yoongi x reader

↳ genre- smut, light crack, PWP

↳ warnings- basically the plot of a porn, theres no plot, the plot doesn’t make sense, seduction, oral sex (m/f receiving), penetrative sex, dirty talk, fun laughing giggly time during sex, honestly yoongi is great and i love him, maybe exhibitionism if u squint ???, cum sharing, finger sucking, motorboating

↳ a/n- did i just write basically the plotline of a bad porno? yes. did i love it? also yes. this was lowkey inspired by my own landlord coming over to my place (that i DIDNT SLEEP WITH) and i answered the door in a state of undress :/ i hate myself lol. anywwayyss! enjoy yoongi the landlord! pls feel free to interact with me because i need constant attention uwu

The inside of your apartment feels hotter than the blazing sun outside. Your air conditioner chose the worst week to fritz on you. A record-breaking heat wave.

Nothing helps. You open windows, blow fans, sit in front of your fridge, take cold showers. All just momentary bliss that ends too soon.

It finally breaks you and you muster up the courage to text your landlord, Yoongi.

You inhale a deep breath as you click on the name. Min Yoongi, landlord. Your eyes flutter shut for a moment without realizing.

Your landlord who lives in the same building as you is likely the hottest and most attractive man you’ve ever met. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a crush on the man. Every month, paying rent was torture. You wanted to fling your legs open to him and request he takes his payment another way.

But you never did. He always remained cool and expressionless and it was hard to get a read on the man, let alone see if he’s interested.

Your fingers slide across the keys, nibbling at your lip as you decide what to say.

[to: yoongi] hi! sorry to bother you but my ac appears to have died and im afraid ill be next at the rate of his heat wave 😩 no rush but id appreciate help!

Perfect. Simple, slightly cutesy. Emoji to express how chill you are.

Your phone vibrates almost instantly and a smile curves on your face.

[to: me] oh no, we can’t have that. haunted apartments are hard to rent out 😉 im out until late tonight but i can stop by first thing in the morning if that’s cool?

A flirty line? Is this… working?

[to: yoongi] tomorrow is great! and don’t worry, if i die i won’t haunt this apartment, i’ll haunt yours 😌

[to: me] see you tomorrow, poltergeist 👻

You’re leaping through the air at the idea of the hot landlord semi-flirting with you over text when you notice your apartment. It’s disgusting. Your face burns red and you instantly work on the space before Yoongi comes over. He can't see you like this.

Sleep is out of the question. After your ravage cleaning and polishing and organizing, you’ve worked up more than a sweat. A cold shower helps for a moment but you end up lying in bed feeling slightly wet and very, very hot. The humidity is draining.

You change into an outfit of a crop top and g-string panties. You aim the 3 fans in your room to point around your bed for direct wind contact. It helps, somewhat.

Sleep finally comes as dawn breaks. It’s cooled off enough that the ambient air around you is finally tolerable. Exhaustion overwhelms you, and you pass out, hard. Finally.

You’re broken from your exquisite dream of being nailed by your landlord when a loud knock wakes you up. It’s disorienting. You’re so tired you’re not even sure where you are at the moment, let alone who is at the door. The knock sounds again and you scurry to turn off the loud fans and book it to the door.

The door swings open and reveals your landlord, Yoongi.

“Oh, hi!” You’re excited to see him, for reasons beyond fixing your air conditioning.

Yoongi steps in and looks like he’s about to speak but opens his mouth and remains silent. His cheeks tingle a light shade of pink and he’s staring at your body. Did you drool all over yourself all night or something? What was he staring—

Oh god.

You glance down at your body. The crop top you hastily changed into in the middle of the night hits you a little lower than where your breasts end. The G string is non-existent. It covers almost nothing, which is why you opted for it last night in your desire to get cooled off.

You take a step back from the sexy landlord still gaping at you and shyly cross your arms over your chest.

“I’m sorry, I—it was hot,” you mutter. “I’ll go change.”

Yoongi licks his lips, then snaps his eyes up to you and finds his voice. “It’s fine. It’s your home,” he swallows. “It’s hot in here, so stay comfortable. Don’t want to overheat you.”

His eyes stare down yours intensely. It feels like your veins sizzle, and it’s not related to the scorching temperature of your studio apartment.

He breaks the contact first and heads towards the panel in the wall where the inner workings of the air conditioner hide.

You wait in your kitchen, enjoying the natural shadow and shade from no windows and a spot to hide from Yoongi.

What if he thought badly about you? What if he doesn’t find you attractive and thinks of this as a ploy to get him to lower your rent or something? How could you recover from this? Would it ever go back to being the same?

You’re anxiously tapping your fingers on the kitchen countertop, listening intently as the landlord fiddles with pipes and belts and mutters under his breath every so often. Eventually, you hear a soft ‘aha’ and your air con kicks right on. You think it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. Instantly you feel the machine push out air. It’s lukewarm now from disuse, but soon it will be frigid cold. You stand in front of the breeze and bask, arms open to let the wind blow through you.

Yoongi clears his throat, and it startles you, making you realize you’re standing in your house nearly naked, ass cheeks out on display, under-boob surely peeking out to say hi. Your face burns and it makes him chuckle as you jump and attempt to cover yourself somehow.

“How long was I standing there?” You ask quietly.

Yoongi can’t wipe the amused smirk on his face. “A few minutes,” he shrugs. “Glad it’s working now for you.”

The air rapidly cools as the machine continuously pumps out colder and colder air.

“Thank god. I owe you,” you sigh.

��Nah, that’s what rent pays for,” he smiles.

He makes his move to leave you alone, and you recognize this is it. This is your chance. You can ask him to fuck the shit out of you now. If he declines, well, the first of the month would start being more awkward. But if he accepts… it’s too blissful to imagine.

You grab at his arm as he walks past you. He stops in his tracks, and his eyes travel to where your hands meet his skin.

“I’m serious,” you attempt to sound as confident as you can. “I owe you.”

He arches a brow at you and turns completely to face you. Your hands hover at the hem of your tiny shirt, lifting a sliver to give him a glance of the bottom of a rounded globe.

“Let me repay you somehow?” you ask.

A smirk lifts at one side of his lips. “You think that will cover the cost?”

Your cheeks heat and you pull the shirt up higher, determined to get him in your bed or die trying.

“I’m hoping.”

Yoongi’s eyes zero in on your tits. Rounded and full, nipples prickling in the fresh and rapidly cooling air. He contemplates for a moment as he lets his eyes get their nice, long drink of you.

“Yeah, now that I think of it, that should be exact change.” He drops his bag of tools and approaches you quickly, hands cupping your head as he kisses you intensely.

He kisses you with all the fire of the heatwave outside, melting you from the inside out. You’re sure to be sweaty and clammy after you’re finished with him. He swipes his tongue over your lips, and there’s no hesitation to let him in. Your hands grip at his sides, pulling his shirt up as much as you can while trying to focus on making out with the hottest guy you’ve ever met.

He chuckles against your lips at your weak attempt to disrobe him and he reluctantly pulls a step away from you to take the shirt off. He stands there and allows you a quick look before he’s back on to you. His skin presses against your chilled nipples and the fire and ice sensation makes you shiver.

Yoongi kisses you passionately, you notice. Like a lover. It’s laced with deeper intention and you hope you’re not overthinking it. You will your brain to just shut up and enjoy. Emotions can come later.

Now, you’re the one to remove your lips from his and he pouts slightly at the loss. You smile and slide down to your knees, hands undoing the button of his tight jeans and tugging them down.

“Shit, babe, I think you may be overpaying me,” he admits. “Wasn’t that hard to fix.”

As a finger pulls down the front of his boxers to let his cock spring free, you flick a smirk up to his face.

“Then consider this my repayment for being late on rent all those months,” you state before shifting your gaze back to his hardened cock. It’s gathered pre-cum at the head and you wonder if he’s been hard and wanting since he got here and first saw you. The thought is intoxicating and spurs you on.

Your tongue licks up the slick at the tip that threatens to drip off, before it swirls around the bulbous head. Yoongi isn’t afraid to be loud, it seems. You supposed you wouldn’t be afraid if you owned the building too. Who will complain? And to who?

“Hoooooly fuck,” he gasps. “Sh—shit I might let you pay rent like this for the rest of your lease.”

You pop your mouth off and lick your lips, allowing your hand to grip his shaft and begin stroking him.

“I don’t want to pay rent this way. How about we consider it a perk?” You smile, pressing forward to kiss his tip teasingly.

“God, a girl who doesn’t want to fuck me just to take advantage of me? And she’s hot as fuck and wants to blow me for fun?” he quirks his head. “Shit, be careful or I’ll end up falling in love.”

It makes your head spin a little and you suckle at the tip a little longer, making him keen, before you pull away again.

“Maybe that was the plan all along,” you simper, then take him in fully, letting his tip glide down your mouth to the back of your throat. He groans loudly, and it’s the most satisfying sound. It makes you want to do this more. Every day if you could.

You get to work, sucking him in, allowing him passage to your throat, vacuuming your cheeks to add additional pressure, gliding your hands up and down the slick shaft to assist you in touching every single bit. Yoongi is thriving. He can’t believe his luck. The hottest girl in the complex, the girl he’s secretly pined over, is sucking his cock as if her life depends on it.

You’re salivating at the act now, saliva spilling out your mouth as you continue to envelop his cock quickly. You slip it out of your mouth to lean down and lick and suck at his balls, which makes him hum in absolute pleasure. You don’t remain long—his cock is nearly pulsating with desire. Your mouth returns to its rightful place and as you’re licking and sucking and pumping and stroking him, you maintain even and sensual eye contact with him.

You want him to know this isn’t a chore, a means to an end. You want him to know you’ve dreamt of him fucking your throat raw every night since you moved in.

Yoongi got the picture pretty quickly. His mouth drops open as he openly gapes at your work, giving him probably the best and hottest blowjob of his life.

Your tongue swirls at the ridge of his head and Yoongi feels it snap—the tightness that holds everything back. He fucks desperately into your throat, relishing in the feel of your gagging and moaning. It didn’t take long until he was seeing it through to the end, pumping hot white ropes down your throat while he moaned out your name with a string of expletives.

The immoral pop noise your mouth made as you pull off his cock makes the blue-haired landlord standing above you moan.

“Fucking hell—where the fuck have you been all my life?” he sighs as he cups his hand under your chin. He beckons you back up, desperate to kiss you. You oblige and return to standing, pressing against his body to pull him in to a dirty kiss.

“Upstairs, apparently,” you murmur.

He swipes his tongue on yours, tastes himself there, and decides he wants to taste himself on you all the time. His hands slide down to your ass, the g string still curving down the line. He snaps at the straps as you kiss, making you puff a laugh against his lips before pulling away.

“I’d be willing to fix your leaky faucet in the bathroom if you let me eat you out,” he offers.

You’re tugging him towards your bed, knocking over multiple fans in the process, and flopping onto the mattress, landing on your back.

“Throw in fixing the squeaky wheel on my closet, and you’ve got yourself a deal,” you joke, spreading your legs to give him the tiniest clue of what lays between.

He sighs dramatically with a smile, “Needy tenant,” before he slips down to hover over you. He intends to kiss and lick every part of your body, starting with the tits that hypnotized him.

“Can’t believe you opened the door like that,” he chuckled as he plucked a nipple between his fingers and lightly rolled it. “I thought I was dreaming.”

The feeling is instant, electricity sparking at the tips of your nipples and warming its way around your body, directly to your cunt. You’re absolutely certain that by the time Min Yoongi reaches his mouth to your core, he’ll drown in it.

He moves forward and wraps his lips around the bud, allowing his hands to travel to the neglected one and to squeeze and pinch and prod. He’s rewarded with your beautiful sighs and gasps—it’s sweeter than any song he’s ever heard.

He presses your tits together and rubs his face in the cleavage there, making you gasp and laugh at the same time. He gazes up at you and flashes his gummy smile.

“I’ve really wanted to do that,” he admits, which makes you giggle again.

“Be my guest,” you approve. He takes your reply and does it again for just a moment, before he’s kissing and sucking at the flesh of your breasts. He wants to mark you, leave a piece of him for you to remember every time you see yourself. You moan in appreciation and rub your thighs together, desperate at the ache that grows with every nip and nibble of Yoongi’s lips and teeth.

He seems to understand and trails down, kissing and sucking at your long torso, abdomen, hips. He leaves little bruises everywhere and you want them to last forever. You want him to mark you and claim you as his own.

His fingers slip around the thin straps of your underwear, and he tugs them right off. He’s unable to stop the loud moan when he notices the slick that strings between them and your folds. You’re drenched, and he marveled at how excited you were about him.

“Fuck, babe—” he sighs as he lowers his chest down to lie in front of your spread thighs. Your center is weeping, slicked with your arousal and he can tell you’re desperate for friction, for anything. “Look at this perfect fucking pussy.”

You whimper as you can feel his breath so close to where you need him.

“Yoongi, please,” you whine. “I’m so fucking horny.”

“I can tell,” he hums. “Keep moaning my name like that and I’ll make sure you’re always horny and ready for me.”

He lowers his lips, hovering millimeters from your slit. He holds it there as he watches your anguished face nearly burst at how close and yet how far he is, before he obliges you and presses into you.

You gasp at the first swipe of his tongue on your clit. He maintains a soft up and down motion on the nub and you’re already seeing stars. He steadily increases the pressure and the speed, then spices it up by swirling his tongue around in different shapes, spelling out his name on your cunt with his tongue to remind you just who got you this fucking soaked.

Your legs falter and quiver as he slips his tongue deeper inside you, licking into your hole and nearly drinking you up. He pulls back and devotes his attention to your clit and your moans turn from soft gasps and pleas to loud whines as he slips his fingers into your cunt and slowly fucks you, spreading you out. He’s not small by any means, he feels he can get you ready to go.

“I want you to cum for me on my tongue,” he states, matter-of-factly. “I want to feel you on my fingers.”

You nod, plucking at your own nipples with one hand as the other seeks purchase in his hair.

“Can you do that for me, babe? Can you cum for me and get my hand nice and drenched? I want to lick it off my fingers.”

His fingers get frantic and he splits his time between suckling and laving at your clit and encouraging you with illicit requests and praises.

Yoongi continues, never letting up or even giving an inkling of a hint he’s tiring. His hand works like a machine and he slips yet another finger inside your heat, making you arch off the bed. He licks at your clit with just the right pressure, and he picks up the speed and it sends you tumbling towards your orgasm. You feel the breath leave your lungs as it hits you, core and channel muscles squeezing him tight and legs shaking around his body. Your moans echo off the small apartment walls, only drowned out by the sound of the fresh air-con still running.

“Oh, my god Yoongi—” you pant. “I’ve never cum so hard from oral in my life.”

He pulls his fingers from inside you as you come back down from your high and chuckles at your words. True to his promise, he lets the slick glisten on his finger and marvels at it, before he’s popping the fingers into his mouth and sucking them clean.

“You taste so fucking good,” he compliments, and it makes your chest tighten and tips of your ears turn red. “Fuck, I could eat you every fucking day.”

You smirk, still sensitive but feeling the desperate ache inside you needy for him and his thick cock. Your legs spread open as he lays between them and you’re wiggling your hips to get his attention.

“I’m sure we could arrange something in my lease for that,” you tease. “I could suck your cock hourly, honestly.”

He groans as he sits up between your legs, cock resting heavily on top of your mound. It’s so close, so close to where you need it to be. You appreciate the thick member as it rests and as Yoongi catches his breath. It’s thick and long, on top of your mound the tip reaches to the tiny swell of your stomach. You know you will not be able to walk tomorrow, that’s for sure.

“You’re telling me I could have been going down on you and been getting my dick sucked by the hottest girl on the planet this whole time and all I’ve done is give you shit about rent?”

You stifle a laugh and spread your legs open wider. “Looks like it. We better make up for all that lost time, don’t you think?”

His cock is rigid, almost stone, and he agrees heartily.

“Fuck yeah, we should. I’ve been dreaming about being inside you.”

He sounds so dirty, looks so sinful—it’s all so much and you’re almost begging for him to take you.

He reaches down to the pants on the floor that dropped and shimmies a condom out of his wallet. You send him a look that he silences with a roll of his eyes.

“Every dude has one, chill,” he mumbles. “I haven’t gotten laid in like a year and a half.” He pales as he realizes what he just said. “Not that it matters. Or that I care. Or that you care—christ can we fuck now please?” He asks as he rolls the rubber onto his stiff cock.

You’re laughing a bit, not at him but with him, and you lean up on your elbows to kiss his lips. “If it makes it better, I haven’t gotten laid in 3 years so I’m the loser by comparison,” you assure.

He wants to ask you how the fuck you haven’t gotten laid in that long because you’re the hottest god damn person he thinks he’s ever seen, but he realizes he doesn’t care and that it works out in his favor because Yoongi doesn’t like competition.

“Looks like the landlord needs to fix yet another problem of yours,” he winks as he lines himself up. You lean back onto the pillows and sigh as you feel the touch of his head right at the opening of your slit.

In one slow motion, he slides himself to the hilt. It’s tight, so fucking tight even after one orgasm, and Yoongi nearly hollers at the feel. He’s sure his eyes are rolling back in his head. It’s warm and tight and wet and even through a condom he’s in absolute bliss. He’s hoping one day he can try it without—fuck you raw and stuff you full of his cum.

He’s still inside you, and after a moment to breathe and adjust to the thick girth of him, you’re whining. “Yoongi, fuck me, I need you so fucking bad.”

A feral groan leaves his lips, and he’s off, beginning a pace that has him hoarse from moaning in no time. He’s never felt so good inside a cunt before, never understood how some men could do crazy shit for ‘magic pussy’, but now he gets it—he realizes he’d probably do some dumb things for a chance to be inside you again.

“Oh, yeah—” you whine. “S-shit, you’re so fucking big, Yoongi. Fuck me nice and deep.”

“Mmm, yeah? You want me to bruise your cervix? Want me to make this cunt remember my fucking cock?” He thrusts harder, pushing into you with diligent speed and intensity. “Gonna make sure you can never cum from another cock again, only mine.”

You’re losing your breath with how hard he’s fucking into you, both your moans and pants coming out in quick little bursts between his thrusts.

“Y-y-yes! Yo-o-ongi! Right there!” He hits a spot that feels so good, and you feel the pull towards orgasm tighten.

“God—you feel so. fucking. good.” he emphasizes with a thrust. “Need to feed your tiny pussy my dick every day, hm? Needy little cunt needs my thick cock.”

Tears form in your eyes. The depths he reaches inside you nearly scrambles your brains—you forget everything that isn’t Yoongi and his perfect thickness spearing inside you.

“Yoongi! Gonna c-cum!”

He goes harder, becomes rabid for your second orgasm and wants to feel the way you squeezed his fingers on his cock, knowing the channel will feel even impossibly tighter.

“That’s right, good girl,” he praises while he maintains a punishing pace. “Let me see you cum on this cock, baby, wanna see that pretty little pussy all creamy for me.”

His thumb rubs at your clit, moving it in circular motions, and diverts his eyesight between watching your full tits bounce and your lips open and close in pure bliss. You’re the definition of fucked out and Yoongi feels a surge of testosterone at the sight—knowing he was responsible.

“O-oh! Th-there!” You’re frantic and he can tell you’re right on the edge. He goes even faster, deeper and harder, and it’s the final straw. You’re catapulted off the edge and thrown headfirst into your orgasm. As he suspected, your perfect cunt pulsates around him like a fist and he’s groaning and stuttering as it triggers his own release.

It takes a few moments for both of you to come down, before he pulls his softening cock from within you and disposes of the condom. You’re breathing hard, and he’s smiling at the sheen of sweat on your body.

“Good thing I got that AC fixed today, hm?” He asks as he leans over to kiss at your lips.

You grin and pull him down to lay next to you, snuggling into his body. He holds onto you and kisses your head. He feels a level of contentment he’s never felt before.

You break the silence. “Now, as the landlord’s girlfriend, do I get any special perks? Like you’ll throw the utilities into my rent? Free cable?”

He chuckles against your forehead. “Not a fucking chance, babe.”

#bts #bts imagine #hyungsmutsociety #ficswithluv #ksmutclub #bts smut #bts yoongi #bts suga #yoongi smut

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btsqualityy · 3 years

Text

Assuage: Chapter 8

Yoongi x Reader

Genre: ABO (Alpha/Beta/Omega) dynamics, angst, fluff, smut, enemies to lovers

Warnings: Brief mention of a miscarriage (nothing detailed or graphic, though)

“You’re looking good Hyo,” you muttered as you ran the ultrasound wand over Hyorin’s baby bump. Since Hyorin was only a few weeks out from delivery, you had been having doctor’s appointments with her more and more lately.

“The heartbeat?” She questioned softly and you smiled as you reached over and pressed a button on the ultrasound machine, a loud whooshing sound filling the room moments later.

“130 beats per minute,” you smiled as you looked up at her. “You’re fine and they’re fine.”

“Good,” she sighed in relief. “I’m just so close to the finish line, I don’t want anything to happen.”

“Hey, we talked about this,” you said as you set the ultrasound wand aside, handing Hyorin a few sheets of paper towel to wipe the gel off of her stomach. “Just because you miscarried last year, that doesn’t mean that you can’t go on to have completely healthy pregnancies.”

“I know, I’ll just feel so bad if I can’t give Joon the family that he wants,” she huffed, grabbing onto your hand and sitting up straight.

“I told you before, screw my brother,” you smiled, making Hyorin giggle. “He’d love you even if you two never had pups so you don’t need to worry about disappointing him.”

“You’re right,” Hyorin smiled. “But speaking of love, what’s going on with you and the lone wolf?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged as you cleaned off the wand, setting it back into its’ holder next to the machine.

“With all of the time that you two have been spending together since the full moon party, I know you don’t expect me to actually believe that,” Hyorin snickered.

“It’s only been a week,” you chuckled.

“And you two have eaten at least one meal together every day in that week,” she shot back.

“How did you know that?”

“Tae told me,” she shrugged.

“Well, you can tell Tae that we aren’t like that,” you told her. “He’s cool and all, and we do get along better than we did when he first got here but that’s all there is to it. It’s only friendship.”

“If it means anything to you, Joon told me that Yoongi has been settling into the pack seamlessly and that you two would be a good match,” Hyorin revealed. “Especially given your position within the pack and him being Prime.”

“Hyo, when have I ever cared about either of my brother’s opinions?” You wondered and she just shook her head as she laughed.

“Never.”

“Exactly, so I’m not about to start now,” you smiled.

“Alright alright, I’m not gonna badger you about it like I know Taehyung does,” Hyorin said as she held her hands up in mock surrender. “I just want you to be happy Y/N-ah.”

“I am,” you assured her. “I don’t need an Alpha to make me happy though.”

“No I know, but it’s more than that,” she sighed. “Having someone to love, it’s an amazing feeling. Joon and I have it, Tae and Kook have it, hell even Jimin and Hobi have it so I want you to have it too.”

“And I will, but I’m not gonna rush it,” you replied.

“Alright,” she relented. “Do you wanna come back to our cabin and look at some of the baby clothes that the elders gave me?”

“Sure, I don’t have any other patients schdeuled today,” you nodded with a smile. After telling the receptionist where you would be in case of an emergency, you left the infirmary with Hyorin. However, you didn’t make it far before you were stopped in your tracks.

“Hello Y/N-ah,” Sehun, an Alpha, greeted you, turning towards Hyorin afterwards. “Hello Pack Omega.”

“Hello,” Hyorin smiled.

“Hi,” you said slowly.

“How has your day been going?” Sehun asked you.

“Good,” you nodded. “Is there something that I can help you with?”

“Well, as I’m sure you know, I work in agriculture,” he began. “Growing crops and things of that sort. Well, I wanted to offer you a gift even though you probably have gotten better offers from others.”

“Oh, I don’t think,-” you started to say but you were cut off by Sehun extending his hands to you, a small bracelet sat in his palms. The bracelet was made with blue beads (your favorite color) and white thread, with small pictures of ocean waves craved into the beads.

“Oh, that’s stunning,” Hyorin whispered as she leaned over to get a better look.

“Y/N-ah?” Sehun called and you reached out to touch the bracelet, marveling at how well made it seemed to be.

“It is very nice,” you admitted and Sehun let out a breath of relief. Before you even knew what was happening, Sehun slid the bracelet onto your right wrist.

“I hope you’ll be able to keep it safe for me,” he smiled. “Have a good rest of your day.” He then turned around and walked away, all while you were still in shock at what he had just done.

“Well, that was bold,” Hyorin noted.

“It’s pretty but just sliding it onto my wrist without even asking for express permission first,” you scoffed, reaching down and pulling the bracelet off and sliding it into your pocket. “That’s the type of shit I hate.”

“Yeah, like that’s the only reason,” she muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Hyorin smiled, reaching out and looping her arm around yours. “Come on, let’s go.”

.....................................

Once you and Hyorin made it to her and Namjoon’s cabin and walked inside, you both were immediately greeted with the sound of loud arguing.

“I really think having the crib below the window is the better idea,” Namjoon stated firmly.

“Spoken just like a pup who knows nothing about decorating,” Kibum muttered.

“I’m not a pup!” Namjoon shot back.

“What is going on in here?” Hyorin chuckled as the both of you stood in the doorway of what was slowly becoming the nursery. Namjoon, Kibum, and Yoongi all looked towards the doorway, and you couldn’t help but to notice the smell of irritation in their scents.

“Baby,” Namjoon whined as he walked over towards the door. “Kibum won’t listen to me and put the crib where I want him to.”

“The only reason I even asked you was because I thought you’d have more sense,” Kibum interjected before looking at Hyorin. “He wants to put the crib underneath the window.”

“What?” Hyorin said as she looked up at Namjoon. “Why?”

“I was thinking that some sunlight would be good for them,” Namjoon shrugged.

“Oh baby, your heart’s in the right place but it’s not a good idea,” she giggled. “Even though you built this house good, it’s still noticeably colder by the window than anywhere else in this room. We should put it against the wall by the door, that way it’ll be easier for us to hear them.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Kibum smiled triumphantly.

“But for some reason, it sounded so much better coming from my mate,” Namjoon glared at him, and Kibum just rolled his eyes in response before turning to look at Yoongi.

“Can you move the crib while I go get the rattle and stuff?” He asked and Yoongi nodded his head.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Yoongi replied. As Kibum walked out of the room, you turned your head and saw Namjoon already looking at you.

“How’d the appointment go?” He asked you.

“Everything looks good,” you smiled. “Strong heartbeat and everything’s right on schedule.”

“Great,” he grinned widely. “Baby, one of the elders heard about your craving for chicken soup and brought some over.”

“Yes!” Hyorin whispered excitedly, reaching down and grabbing Namjoon’s hand. “Let’s go get some.”

“Why do I have to,-” Namjoon started to ask but Hyorin just pulled him behind her out of the room, and you rolled your eyes at how non-subtle she was being.

“Hey Yoongi,” you greeted him and he looked up at you as he moved the crib, nodding his head at you once before looking down again.

“Ok,” you said slowly, not really liking the fact that he didn’t verbally reply to you. “How’s your day been?” You waited until Yoongi had pushed the crib against the wall that Hyorin said, turning around to face you and only giving you a shrug in response.

“Oh, well the crib turned out nice,” you tried to compliment but when he only gave you another small shrug, you snapped. “Damn, what the hell did I do to you for you to go back to being a complete dickhead?”

“....Nothing,” he muttered and you rolled your eyes.

“Bullshit. I thought we were cool now,” you said.

“We are.”

“Then why aren’t you acting like it?” You questioned.

“It’s....your scent,” he started.

“My scent?” You repeated with wide eyes. “I thought you liked my scent.”

“I do...when it smells like you,” he replied.

“Huh?” You wondered, completely confused as to what he was getting at.

“You smell like another Alpha,” he admitted, and your eyes widened in realization. “And it’s bothering me.”

“Oh, it must be Sehun’s scent from the bracelet,” you murmured, moreso to yourself but Yoongi heard you.

“Bracelet? What bracelet?” He asked.

“On our way over here, Sehun stopped Hyo and I and tried to offer me a gift, which was a bracelet,” you explained. “I didn’t even accept it though, he just slid it onto my wrist with no warning and he must’ve touched my scent gland when he did.”

“So you didn’t accept it?” Yoongi checked and you shook your head, holding up your wrists for him to see.

“I told you, I rarely accept gifts,” you joked, making him smile lightly. “I didn’t even notice that his scent was on me though. I feel a little creeped out if I’m being honest.”

“Can I....scent you, then?” Yoongi wondered and your eyebrows rose in surprise.

“You want to?” You wondered.

“To help you get the scent off, yeah,” he nodded

“Are you helping me, or you?” You teased him as you held your wrist out to him.

“Both, if I’m honest,” he chuckled, taking ahold of your wrist in both of his hands and rubbing the pads of his thumbs against your scent gland that sat right beneath your palm. His familiar scent of freshwater wafted over you and with him purposefully scenting you, you even smelt undertones of citrus and mango.

“Better?” He checked, noticing how you had relaxed.

“Better,” you nodded. “Your scent’s nice. I’ve never smelled mangos on an Alpha before.”

“Well, I’m not just any Alpha,” he smirked, yelping when you reached out and smacked him lightly on the arm. The two of you continued to stand there together, Yoongi still scenting your wrist and you knew that Sehun’s scent was more than gone by now and that you were probably drowning in Yoongi’s scent now but you found that you didn’t really care. In fact, you kind of liked the thought of that.

“Hey!” Hyorin’s voice rung out, making you jump up slightly. “I can smell you both from the kitchen! Get out of my baby’s room with your scents! The only scents I want in there are mine and Joon’s!”

“Sorry!” You yelled back, smiling when you heard Yoongi laughing. “Well, you heard her.”

“I have to get back to the hardware shop anyways,” he said. “Can I see you later?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, a large grin on your face. “You definitely can.”

.....................................

Tag List: @jikook-enthusiasts @veryuniquenamegoeshere

#bts #bangtanarmynet #bts reactions #bts suga #bts yoongi #suga x reader #yoongi x reader #abo yoongi #abo suga #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #suga smut #suga fluff #suga angst #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts x reader

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turtle-steverogers · 3 years

Note

she is very long so. enjoy😌

- Steve n Bucky going to the bodega down the street from their apartment. it’s open till like 4am and they go at all hours. sometimes they’ll go separately but they always go together when they go in between 12-4 am and no one who works there questions why

- they get a cat that they treat her like their child. it’s Alpine ofc😌 steve loves her so much but he knows it’s Bucky’s Cat and he’s fine with it

- you know how some siblings or partners or friends can communicate with their eyes and basically have telepathy? they totally have that and it annoys the shit out of every single person they meetjdksndks. someone will be talking to them and they will just make eye contact with each other bc it reminded them of an earlier convo they had or they both got annoyed by the other person or it reminds them of an inside joke or something and it just irritates EVERYONE. no one is able to intercept it and it’s just a thing that no matter what - even though they don’t mean to - you’ll feel a little left out when you’re with steveandbucky. it just comes with the gig. i like to imagine that depending on if it’s an au or not, its either really obvious or not. like in an au then yes it’s obvious they can have non verbal conversations, but if it’s not an au then it’s not entirely obvious bc they’re enhanced humans and they know how to hide their secret conversations. but everyone they talk to is essentially an enhanced human or has special abilities so it’s obvious to them and they catch them in the act LOL. if they’re interacting with regular people then it’s not very obvious though

- DATE NIGHT!!! yes they’re old yes they have date night. when they go out it’s usually to places in their neighborhood, but a lot of the time they like to stay in bc. they’re old men <3 steve is better at cooking and bucky is better at baking bc you can get creative with cooking and steve likes that more. he enjoys baking a lot too but he thinks bucky’s stuff tastes better. whenever they stay home though there’s ALWAYS a movie. always. they alternate choosing but there is always a movie to watch. bucky usually falls asleep nearing the end and steve plays with his hair😌 he rolls his eyes cause it happens every time but he actually likes when it happens bc he can braid strands of hair together

- pet names oh my god. so many pet names. every single one. mainly from bucky. steve uses them but maybe like two. he favors sweetie and buck and that’s it really. sometimes he uses hon. bucky though oh my god. every single pet name under the sun. so many variations of doll you wouldn’t believe - baby doll ofc, dolly, stevie doll. sweetheart. sweetness. blondie. pretty boy. hot stuff. stevie. baby. hon. honey. sunshine. angel. it’s just so many. and it’s like very sickening insane twisted etc but hot at the same time. most people are like jeez barnes do you ever shut up… but most of these people secretly think it’s a little hot theyre thinking damn where is that affection for me…. i need me a bucky barnes :| steve is the only smitten kitten outwardly even if he huffs and puffs sometimes but it’s obvious he enjoys it. like they are so annoyingjdkssn for real they aren’t a pda couple really but the petnames….. so many. so so so many it’s sickeningly sweet but bucky dgaf! steve is his sweetheart his dolly his baby his angel so he’s going to call him these things!

- steve knows his body is what is considered “perfect” but he still is insecure about it around most people and bucky knows this so when steve lounges at home in bucky’s boxer briefs and his own tee shirt or he kicks off his pants when he’s too hot at night in bed bucky is reminded of just how much steve loves him and feels comfortable around him which is something he always strives for - to make steve comfortable. not baby him because steve bitches at anyone that does that to him but to make him feel comfortable

- and on the subject of feeling comfortable i imagine that they always check in with one another but it’s very subconscious they hardly realize they do it. like steve will bitch at bucky to pick up his shoes from their doorway or to clean his hair from the shower drain but the next second he will ask him if his back still hurts from being kicked by sam and from where steve AND alpine scratched him (in very different ways)

- steve is the sweater husband and bucky is the sweatshirt husband. they trade off a lot but that’s just how their closets look

- steve takes a liking to crop tops 😌 but ONLY around the house bc again he’s really truly only comfortable around bucky. he wears em with boxer briefs or sweatpants but you can guarantee that the briefs and sweats usually just end up on the floor 9 out of 10 times

- hair ties everywhere. they can be found on the floor in the laundry in their bed in the couch on top of the fridge on their fire escape. they are literally everywhere. steve just picks them up and puts them in the bathroom but they always make their way back. he doesn’t say anything to bucky until he finds alpine chewing one and she ends up smacking herself in the face with the hairtie

- their fridge is always full with leftovers and food from sam or clint’s or whoever’s house or takeout. they always eat it all but they get and make a lot of food so the fridge is always full

- subconsciously bucky always has a hand on the back of steve’s neck. like it’s not ENTIRELY a possessive thing but he used to do it a lot when steve was small because it was easy and it was comfortable. for him and just for him and steve. it was like swinging an arm around steve’s shoulders or putting a hand on his shoulder. it was just natural and easy so he did it. a part of him back then prewar did it possessively too, but he always tampered that down bc steve wasn’t his. now he does it without shame

- steve really likes tofu and vegan meat, non dairy milk like almond and soy, and overall a lot of non dairy vegan foods, and a lot of fruits. he gets made fun of for a lot specifically about the vegan stuff but his reasoning is that there’s so much food accessible for people with allergies in the future that he wished existed a hundred years ago so he’s going to try it and stick with it if he likes it. people shut up after that

- he also tips a little more than he needs to everywhere he goes. everywhere. like it’s cool when steve rogers walks in to a restaurant bc he’s a superhero or whatever but its REALLY cool because he leaves a generous tip and that’s what really makes peoples day

- before they get legally married they are still very much married. like “i packed you lunch, meet me at the restaurant instead of me going to pick you up bc it’ll take longer, i got takeout let’s bitch together while we watch shitty reality tv, let’s bitch at EACH OTHER through the phone in public, let’s send each other ugly pictures of each other or funny texts while we’re right next to each other, i’m out with a group and you’re not there and i say multiple times ‘i miss steve/bucky’, let’s yell at each other from opposite ends of the apartment instead of getting up to see each other, steve i’m going to fuck you on the couch bc our room is too far, etc.” they are just very much married without the documents and legalities and it’s very obvious

okay all of these were ABSOLUTELY wonderful and im really going to restrain my urge to respond to each and every one but that might be futile

-okay YES they definitely go to that bodega at all hours, and usually it's for normal things when they go separately: milk, cereal, toilet paper. but when they go in the middle of the night, they almost always purchase some like odd assortment of candies and deli meat. also, they're always in their pajamas. like bucky's in plaid pj pants and a star wars sweatshirt, and steve is in like 5" shorts and a huge crewneck and they're both in slides and they definitely only speak russian to each other when they're in there after hours

-yes alpine! they also have a dog, that is more steve than bucky's!! his name is norman in my headcanon (and a couple of my fics) and he is best boy

-okay i need more of this in my general stucky life: steve and bucky being like,,, best friends as well as lovers and being so seamlessly close. like yeah, they definitely talk with their eyes, or just one glance, or half-sentences ("hey, did you ever get to--" "yup, on the way home. it was so--" "yeah, good. glad to hear") and they know exactly what the other is saying.

-yes to the date nights!!! and when they stay in to watch movies, they make Tons of popcorn. and they Have to make separate batches, because steve will Only eat his with like half a bottle of that powdered white cheddar on his

-YES we share the same fucking headcanon for petnames on god

Steve: love you, buck:)

Bucky: love you, pumpkin

-Steve definitely has body dysmorphia, probably even post serum (I have lots of thoughts on this, that might be a different post) and yeah, Bucky definitely knows its Big that he feels comfortable enough to be exposed around him (and he's even more honored that steve lets him be intimate with him, because that's really hard for steve, too)

-yeah! and easy check ins like "ur stomach still bothering you from last night?" "oh, no it was just a little bug turns out" or like "my head hurts:(" "i have meds in my bag. you want?" "yeah, just two" or like subtly checking on injuries, yeah

-yeah the sweater versus sweatshirt tracks tbh i picture steve in a lot of crewnecks so yeah

-STEVE IN CROP TOPS STEVE IN CROP TOPS and i raise you they're often ones he's cropped himself and he's also painted on! or bleach painted!! and theyre so cool and bucky never wants to make a big deal out of it, but he's so proud of steve for expressing himself like that

-ALPINE SMACKING HERSELF ALKFJALSDKFJA also steve always has a hairtie on HIS wrist in case bucky forgets one for himself

-they also always have Steve Staple Foods cuz i headcanon steve as a picky eater (adhd!steve + serum enhancements, it's down to a formula) so they have a lot of Kraft mac and cheese and easy heat up meals and lunch meats around for when he's having bad food days

-OMG and steve absolutely MELTS i raise you, too, bucky will especially hold the back of his neck when he needs to get steve to Chill Out. so like if he sees him stressing he'll put his hand on the back of his neck and squeeze and literally feel the tension drain from him or like if steve is having a panic attack, he'll hold the back of his neck while they breathe together

-yes and also any time that steve is Choosing food for himself and feeling motivated to eat it, it's a win, so people learn to back off there, too

-yes! he tips generously, but never awkwardly or offensively. he's also super kind and patient to food service workers!

-this last point is so perfect i cant. like yeah, back to steve and bucky just being,,,, the best of friends. ugly selfies galore, shoving their feet in each other's face, flicking each others ears. and yes, all the fucking gossiping. on the phone gossip, venting, fun gossip from around work. they talk about it all. and it's so great for them

thank you again for stopping by! your thoughts are impeccable!

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #stucky headcanons #long post #domestic anon

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korissideblog · 3 years

Text

ok! so! this fic was getting a bit long for my tastes, so i decided to split it into 2 parts!

even though they don't show up, i'll be mentioning two lovely characters in this fic, Haru from the amazing @compoundhero and Jetsam from the outstanding @jetsam-kisa <3

and without further ado! here's part 1/2 of-

The Hedonist

“Welcome back.” Aito walked into the library, a dimly lit room draped in darker reds, softly lit by simple reading lamps.

“Where is the rest of the team?” he asked, looking to the only filled seat in the entire room, a plush settee with a woman in an overly large white mink coat lying across it.

“I sent them away. We do our best thinking when no one else is bothering us- isn’t that what you said?” the woman offered, sitting up a bit to look at Aito more clearly. “You play dumb, but I know there’s more going on up there. Am I wrong?” she asked, only to be answered with silence as Aito sat down in an armchair nearby.

“Will you ever tell me your name, Checkmate? I’ve told you mine.” Yua Sakura said, truthfully. “I think it’s only fair.”

“I’m a man of my word, Sakura san.” Aito responded calmly, settling into the chair and accepting the tablet Sakura passed to him. “I’ll tell you my name on my deathbed- only so you know what to put on the gravestone.” he chuckled, opening the tablet to find the plans already open.

Sakura rolled her eyes but dropped it quickly. This wasn’t the first time she’s asked for the man’s real name, and it won’t be the last. “I’ve already secured the bank’s blueprints. Consider our entrance my responsibility. If we’re in the vault, how would you plan our escape?” she asked, clearly still testing the newest recruit of their team, despite the fact that he’s been a full fledged member for almost a year now.

Aito looked over the plans with a critical eye, swiping marks onto the blueprint till she was satisfied, and held it up to present her idea. “The vents. If you can remove the screws while the rest of the team fills the bags, we could escape rather quickly.” Aito gestured to the woman’s hands, referencing her quirk.

And what an interesting quirk Sakura had. She had a form of telepathy, but the largest thing she could lift was a pencil. What really gave the woman’s quirk it’s bite, though, was the smallest thing she could lift. Her quirk let her quickly detach and lift tiny molecules, all at once. Aito once watched her deteriorate a man's fingernails in only the span of a handshake- and it was the most terrifying thing Aito’s ever seen.

“Interesting… Why the vents?” she asked, looking over the tablet carefully.

“Because-” Aito said, pointing to a shaded line going through the walls of the bank. “This is a gas line. If we set off even the smallest explosion…” Aito imitated a large explosion, which made Sakura smile wickedly.

“Oh Checkmate,” she giggled, clapping her hands together in glee. “Oh I just knew you would have the perfect idea! And they say blondes are dumb!” Aito’s jaw dropped in annoyance, touching her bleached hair in defensiveness. “Now now, don’t make that face, pet.” she laughed, waving off Aito with a flick of her wrist. “You know I jest. I’d never question a mind like yours, why, people like us- we just have to stick together.”

“People like us?” Aito questioned, setting the tablet down onto a nearby end table.

“Yes, People like us- us with quirks… predisposed for villany.” Sakura hummed, slumping further into her seat comfortably. “I mean let’s be honest with ourselves, once we’d gotten our quirks, we both must have known where we would end up. And it’s hardly our fault honestly- I mean how else would we have made use of our abilities?”

“I believe my quirk to be neutral.” Aito shrugged, mirroring Sakura’s comfort by souching into her armchair- and quietly wishing he had put on something with a bit more fabric. His usual crop top and biker shorts were of little comfort to him in the colder parts of the hideaway. “I really could have been anything with a quirk like mine. Hell, I could have even been a hero.” Aito quickly decided that sitting around wouldn’t keep him warm, and swung himself out of his seat to look over the books that surrounded them, still staying close enough to speak to Sakura.

“You don’t really believe all that, do you?” Sakura asked, her eyes following Aito like a panther watching its prey. Predatory, yet patient. She watched as Aito carefully touched the spine of nearly every book on a shelf, not answering, but still listening. “Why, maybe I could have had a chance but… your quirk in particular? Checkmate, what else could you have done except for villainy? I mean, I’d even go so far as to call your gift inherently evil.” and that… that seemed to still him.

Aito no longer pretended not to hear, her hand shaking minutely before she rested it onto the shelf and looked over his shoulder to Sakura. He took a book from the shelf and opened it randomly, wandering behind the settee as she looked over the text. It was some sort of book of mythology, and Aito’s fingers brushed over a small drawing of a little girl with a fox tail. She noticed Sakura reaching for her, but flinched away before her hand met his waist. One of the pros to wearing such little clothing was that most people didn’t want to reach for Aito, in fear of touching his skin. The awkwardness of human contact being the only thing that protected Aito from this villain’s grasp.

And Aito was sure that if she ever were to touch him, he would scream. And kick. And bite.

“Sakura san? Why did you become a villain?”

Sakura chuckled, pleased to have finally caught her partner’s attention. “I’ve already said it. I had little other choice, given my abilities.” she shrugged, looking up at Aito with a smile, and carefully laying a hand onto the book, their fingers brushing together softly. “And you, pet?” she asked softly

Aito’s eyes looked away from Sakura and to a nearby window, a small sliver of the starry night slipping between the thick velvet curtains, her eyelashes fluttering minutely as she thought.

“It was my love of strawberry ice cream.”

Sakura laughed, but Aito’s serious face gave her pause, calming herself before letting her partner continue. “Apologies, Checkmate, please continue.” Aito nodded, and flipped lazily through the book’s pages as she spoke.

“When I was a child, my mother would sometimes bring me to work with her. If I behaved myself, she would then take me for ice cream.” Aito started again, seemingly more involved in the book she wasn’t reading than the conversation he didn’t want to be having. “One time they were out of chocolate, so we got strawberry instead. I soon fell in love with the flavor, and got it every time we went.” Aito fought the smile that tried to crack her serious expression, but a ghost of it remained. “High school was hard on me. I was home schooled, and my high school had on campus boarding. Up to that point the longest I’ve spent away from my mother were the few hours when she would sleep, and now I had to spend an entire school year with only visits on the weekend.” Aito then snapped the book close, almost catching Sakura’s fingers between the pages. Aito barely blinked in apology. “I was homesick, and smuggled a bucket of strawberry ice cream into my dorm room. I ate the entire thing, and became sick soon after.” She then tossed the book into Sakura’s lap, not wishing to even touch it now that it had lost his interest. “I had to miss class for a day, and missed very important notes. After that I failed an important test, and my teacher started to worry for me. He asked another-more advanced-student to help me with my work, and we became close friends soon after.”

“What was their name?” Sakura asked, taking the book in her hands.

Aito was silent for a moment. “I called him big cat.” she finally responded, vaguely. Taking her turn to watch as Sakura opened the book. “After him, my other classmates seemed much more approachable.”

“This story isn’t about big cat, is it now?” Sakura hummed, looking from the book’s yellowed pages up to Aito, who was focused on the book with a deadly stare.

“No. it isn’t.”

“Who then, pet?”

Aito paused again, as if trying to find a way to describe her memories from her youth.

“He was a very nervous boy.” Aito started, her eyes fluttering shut as he tried to remember his friend as vividly as possible. “He’d be surrounded by clouds of this vicious black smog- his quirk, he would always produce the foulest smoke wherever he went.”

“You were irritated by him?” Sakura offered.

“No, never.” Aito responded quickly. “I had a habit of taking in the nervous ones. He wasn’t the first, and he wouldn’t be the last.”

“Oh, then I apologize for interrupting.” Sakura chuckled, patting Aito’s arm, which Aito gently pulled out of her grasp. “What drew you to him in the first place?”

Aito sighed, cursing his terrible memory as he tried to recall. “When not in uniform… he’d wear the prettiest clothes.” Aito explained. “One sweater in particular… it was pink I believe… It was softer than a cloud. I think I stole it from him- I probably wore it more than he did.” Aito said, letting the smallest smile show on her face as he touched his arm, as if he were wearing the sweater right this second.

“You tend to do that.” Sakura laughed, poking humorously into Aito’s side. “Remember when you wore one of my dresses to that charity gala?”

“I wore it better than you would have.” Aito quipped, immediately invoking another laugh from Sakura.

“Oh, you’re much too quick witted” Sakura giggled, wiping her dry eyes as though she had been laughing much harder. Aito nodded slowly, but kept his face flat.

“He… he’s the reason I don’t believe you when you say that our quirks can decide things for us.” Aito explained. “He was nothing like his quirk would suggest. Despite all the smoke, he was a pleasant boy.”

“Ohh… but, I asked you why you became a villain, pet. This boy, why do you mention him?” she finally asked, noticing Aito resting his hands on the back of the settee and carefully placing her’s onto his. Aito’s pained silence left Sakura a bit off guard, but she slowly came to a conclusion that… she could only hope her guess was wrong. “Is he… gone from us?” she asked, letting Aito assume her meaning.

“No.” Aito huffed, his grip on the settee’s back tightening slightly as she turned away from Sakura.

“What then? What could have happened that’s made you this upset?” she asked, her red eyes never faltering from her teammate’s face.

“He…” Aito finally turned away, as if even saying it out loud was too much. “He turned his back on me.”

“Oh… pet…” Sakura whispered, carefully patting his hand in an attempt to comfort him. “Loss can be hard… especially when the loss isn’t permanent… when it’s a choice someone makes.” Sakura hadn’t a clue how to ease this pain, completely unused to her teammate showing this amount of vulnerability around her. “If it’s any comfort at all… I’m thankful for you, the entire team is- you must know this by now.” Sakura suffered through another silence, wishing that Checkmate would just tell her how to help him. “What was… pet… what did you call him?” Aito looked back for just a second, his eyes trained on the floor as he tried to gain the courage to finally speak.

“Jetsam Kisa.”

#ohhhh ok i can't wait to start working on part 2 <333 #it's all outlined already #i just gotta get it all written out <2 #bnha oc comeback #knha // kimi no hero academia #Aito takao #aki hiroharu #jetsam kisa #kori stories

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maeve-writes · 3 years

Text

Like a Stone

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader

Rating: 18+; Minors DNI

Warnings: Moderate Dom/sub, oral sex, dirty talk, praise kink, unprotected sex.

Summary: When he no longer had control, he sought you out.

a/n: I’m new to writing the whole Dom/sub thing, so please forgive me. This is also unbeta’d.

This was my submission for another SPN challenge. This is for the prompt: Please? Submitted as the account: @plaided-ani

Inspired by Like a Stone by Audioslave.

Dean Winchester drifted in and out of your life over the last nine years. He’d never call, never texted, just showed up when he wanted at all hours of the day and you’d let him in, gave him everything he needed and he was gone with the sun. Never once had you complained, never questioned him, just accepted him as a fleeting part of your life, something you were able to enjoy from time to time.

Then he stopped coming, told you it would be the last time, that it needed to stop. And in the last two years, he kept his word until you found him in your kitchen, sitting at the small table, staring at his hands. He silently watched you as you walked in with your bags, not bothering to help because he knew you wouldn’t accept it, especially in the shape that he was in. Dark circles were thick under bloodshot eyes that sat above hollowed cheeks and pouty lips.

There was something wrong, there always was when he came to you. You knew little of his life, just of his brother Sam and a friend he called Castiel, and that he would often travel for work, but you never prodded. If Dean wanted to tell you, he would, but it seemed best for him to keep you separate from whatever he did and that was fine with you.

You moved through your kitchen, putting away your groceries, feeling his eyes watch every move you made, but you paid no mind to him, spared no glance until you put the last box of pasta away. When you finished, he shifted in his seat, his mouth opening for a moment, but shut shortly after when you lifted one neatly trimmed brow.

You leaned against the island in the kitchen, arms crossed and feet slightly apart. You were still in your work clothes, a simple white blouse and fitted gray slacks, your heels still on your feet and hair pulled into a neat ponytail. You stood there, watching Dean squirm in the chair, jaw clenching and fingers twitching.

Seconds ticked by and turned into minutes, he didn’t dare look up from his hands now that he had your attention, but the quiet was getting to him. “Why are you here, Dean,” you finally broke the silence causing him to flinch.

He hesitated, his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly. His mouth opened and a strangled rasp came out. Pink flushed his cheeks and he cleared his throat to try again. “I need…” he searched for the words, eyes darting back and forth across the table as if it would help him. You waited patiently for him to find the words that he needed to say, the permission he needed to give. “I need you.”

You snorted and shook your head, the sound sent a shiver through his body. “You don’t need me, Dean,” you told him, “you want me. What you need is something else, so say it.”

His head ticked to the left, fingers tightening around one another as he let out a shaky breath. “I need to be in control,” he admitted. “I need to know my place and how I should feel and you…” His hesitant gaze flickered over to you, “you’re the only one who can give me that.”

Whatever was going on in his life must have been bad because he would never give an answer so quickly, not without further coaxing. You let his words simmer between you, his gaze averted back to his hands that were still clenched tight. “The rules,” you asked.

“Speak when permitted, touch only when told, no cumming without permission,” he shot back immediately, his shoulders relaxing almost instantly.

“Safeword?”

“Sangria,” he puffed, cheeks flushing darker.

You pushed off the counter and took your time walking over to where he sat, the click of your heels echoed in your tiny kitchen. Each step had him blinking, his nostrils flaring. “I want you in my room, stripped to your boxers, hands behind your back and seated on the bed,” you ordered, a hand reaching up to lightly graze along his jaw. His head tilted slightly into the touch, but when you pulled away, he sat up quickly. “Go.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered, pushing away from the table, but you caught him by the jacket collar. Instantly, he froze, staring straight ahead, wondering what he did wrong already.

“I need to hear you, Dean,” you whispered back.

He exhaled slowly and nodded once, his voice stronger, “Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s my boy,” you praised and released him. His lips flashed a hint of a smile before he scrambled off to your room to follow your instructions.

You gave him ample time to get ready and then some, taking the time to answer your emails and check on your stocks. A full half hour had passed when you finally made your way to your room, stopping at the threshold.

Dean sat on the edge of the bed in just his briefs, hands in position and eyes forward. It had been at least two years since you had seen him last, his muscles had softened, but only slightly, and there were a few more scars. He was a beautiful man, all hard lines and a harder soul, but you broke all of that down.

You let him stew under your wandering gaze, your eyes lingering on the mysterious tattoo on his chest down to the tent in his underwear. All you had him do was sit and he was already straining. “I can never get over how gorgeous you are,” you sighed, strolling to the far side of the room to grab the chair at your vanity.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Dean replied.

You pulled the chair to sit in front of him, crossing your legs, still fully clothed, and you smiled at him. “And always so obedient,” you chuckled. “Whoever trained you did a very good job.” He made no indication of whether he was pleased by the compliment, just dropped his gaze to your feet.

“Do you remember the last time you were here,” you asked, toeing off your shoes and kicking them aside. Dean flinched but nodded. “Rule one, Dean,” you reminded him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded.

“That will be your first and only warning,” you informed and stood from the chair. “You told me you’d never come back, but here you are.” You moved just within his reach, staring down at him as his face was at your chest level. “I’ll admit that I’m a little shocked, but somehow I feel compelled to help you. I don’t know if it’s because some part of me cares about you when I barely even know you or it’s the universe that pulls me towards you.”

He didn’t respond and his expression remained stone straight, ever the obedient little soldier. You lifted a hand and dug it into the short crop of his hair, tilting his head back so that he could look up at you, a silent show of permission. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re a dream,” you whispered, the fingers of your free hand running down the bridge of his nose, your eyes darting from freckle to freckle while he stared straight into your soul. “If you are,” you leaned down, your nose brushing against his, “you’re one that I don’t want to wake up from.”

When you pressed your lips against his, he melted into your touch. You gave him no leave to make any sound, but it was there in his throat, you could feel it in the tense of his jaw. Your tongue licked into his willingly parted lips, coaxing his to dance with yours, which he did so eagerly. “Drowning your sorrows in whiskey,” you murmured against his open mouth when you parted for air, “when we both know there’s something better in this life for you.”

He looked at you with an unblinking stare, chest heaving slightly. It was obvious he wanted to say something, but he fought against it. You ran your thumb across his bottom lip until your nail stopped and dug into the side of his cheek. “You always end up here,” you frowned. “My sweet boy, will I ever deserve you?”

His gaze faltered, jumping from the wall behind you and back again, the sting of tears pricked at his eyes and he sputtered, but remained silent. “Undress me,” you instructed and released your hold. “You may use your hands.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied evenly, “thank you, ma’am.” His thick fingers fumbled with the buttons of your blouse, his hands shaking as he tried to concentrate on his task and not the overwhelming sensation of your watchful eyes. When he unclasped the last button, he reached up and carefully pushed the fabric from your shoulders, careful not to graze any part of your skin.

His attention turned to your slacks, his effort doubling as tight as they were, but he managed to get them down and off your legs for you to kick aside as you did your shoes, leaving you in your white lacy underwear. He licked his lips and reached up for your bra, but you stepped back with a click of your tongue. “Not now, Dean. Hands behind your back.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, his arms moved behind him, eyes falling back across the room. “Look at you,” you cooed as you climbed onto the bed and kneeled behind him. Your hands raked through his hair and down his neck, dug into his skin at his shoulders and down his arms, scraping over a new scar, oddly shaped. When you touched it, he tensed and flinched away.

You removed your hands from him and watched the raising of his shoulders from his uneven breathing. Whatever reason he had for being there, it had to do with his scar. He was here to forget about it and it was your job to make sure he did. “Color?”

He was silent for a beat before answering with a soft, “Green.”

“Lose the boxers. Lay down,” you tell him, “on your back, hands at your sides.” He nodded and dropped his boxers when he stood before he turned and crawled up the bed at your command. He settled in the middle, head rested on your largest pillow, hands flat against the mattress, body still stiff from your accidental touch.

His body was glorious when it was laid out, waiting. You wanted him all for yourself at that moment, to use him like you wanted, but this wasn’t for you, it was for him. “Spread your legs, Dean.” He instantly complied, parting his bowed legs wide enough for you to settle between. “Rule three?”

“No cumming without permission,” he answered automatically, watching as you crawled up to him, your hands hovering just above his thighs. His hard cock, leaking since the moment you walked in the room, twitched at the thought of what was to come.

“Not a sound from you, do you understand,” you narrowed your gaze and he nodded once. “Good boy.” Your nails dug into the skin above his knee and clawed up to the juncture of his hips causing goosebumps to blossom over his body. “I’ve dreamed about this cock,” you said, leaning down to puff a sigh against the swollen tip, “so long and thick. Fills me up so good, Dean. It gets in so deep that I can feel you days after.”

You snuck a glance up at Dean’s face to see his jaw clenched tightly and his hands twisted into the fabric of your comforter. “And your taste,” you whispered, wrapping a hand around the base to keep the length steady, “like the sweetest ambrosia. If you’re good, maybe I’ll let you cum in my mouth later. Would you like that, Dean?”

His voice was strained, but he answered with an obedient, “Yes, ma’am.”

You smiled against his tip and watched him as you opened your mouth to let the entire thing slip past your lips, not stopping until he hit the back of your throat. His eyes slammed shut and his shoulders lifted off of the bed, his face twisted in an euphoric, silent sob. With each of your head, the head reached the back of your throat and beyond as his cock was sucked tightly with your hot mouth and praised with your wet tongue. His head jerked involuntarily, hips doing their best to keep still.

His thighs tensed around you, the muscles of his stomach rippled with effort to hold himself back. You released him with a pop, removing yourself completely to sit back on your hunches. His chest heaved, eyes still clamped closed, but he was silent and as still as his will allowed.

“You did so good, Dean,” you praised and crawled up to straddle his hips, your hands coming to rest along his ribs. Your lacy core trapped his cock between your bodies, still slick with your spit and hot from his arousal. Slowly you rolled your body, grinding your sex against his, eliciting a moan from you.

“I’m not sure how I want you.” He dared to open his eyes, lust blown pupils zeroing in on you as you once again pushed your soaked white lace against his aching cock. “It’s been years since I’ve ridden you,” you recalled, nails digging into his skin and you rocked painfully slowly against him. “I know you love watching yourself slowly sink into me over and over again while I tell you how amazing it feels, how you’re such a good boy, so sweet and wonderful when you fuck me so, so good.”

His knuckles were white from his grip on your sheets, but his body continued to still and his voice was absent. He wanted to be good for you, he wanted to please you, to make you happy. “But I love having you on top,” you continued, “covering me with your weight, pushing your hips against mine, looking up at your beautiful, perfect face lost in bliss. So many options.”

Your hips stalled and you tilted your head in thought. “I could have both,” you considered, sitting up slightly to tug aside your ruined panties, exposing your glistening folds. You sat back down, running your bare core against his hard cock, leaving a trail of your slick behind. “Or I could just have you bend me over, I know how much you like that. Love curling around me from behind, fucking into me like the animals we are.”

Dean’s chest was heaving, short, hot breaths puffed out of him steadily through tightly clenched teeth.

“Do you want to say something, Dean?”

He stared at you, eyes wide and desperate. “Ma’am, please,” he ground out, voice cracking.

A smile slowly graced your face and you leaned down to hover your lips inches from his, “What is it, sweetheart? Tell me.”

He hissed, not breaking away from your amused stare. “I need you so bad, ma’am. Please?”

Your hands left his sides and snaked up his body, nails scratching over two perky nubs, one resting on his shoulder, the other locked its hand around his jaw, your thumb hooking into his mouth. “Polite as ever, darling,” you laughed quietly. “Your cock is begging,” your hand on his shoulders slid back down between you two and wrapped around the thick, throbbing shaft, guiding it towards your own aching center, “and you ask so sweetly.”

You sank down on him, slowly, deliberately, feeling every inch fill and stretch you. You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back as your body took him. “Fuck,” you whimpered when you finally seated yourself completely, feeling him throb inside of you.

His skin was flushed with restraint and you could see the veins protrude in his neck as he adjusted to your warm, wet heat. “Look at you,” you panted, holding yourself up with your hands on his chest, “so good, so patient.” You lifted yourself up, dragging slowly along his cock until head was barely inside and sank down with a raspy moan.

Dean’s jaw clenched tighter, you could hear the grinding of his teeth as his face scrunched with effort to keep quiet and still. “That’s my sweet boy,” you whispered, your hips once again rising and falling carefully on his length, feeling every bump of veins and twitch of him inside of you, “keep it up.” You set the pace, a slow, grinding fuck as you pushed him inside of you again and again.

Large, calloused hands squeezed and relaxed against the mattress, yearning to touch you, to feel all of you, but he wouldn’t dare, not without permission. As much as he was submitting tonight, punishment was not what he wanted. He sought to give into you, to have you show him that his place in the world was not at the end of a blade or gun, but beneath you and your touch.

“My lovely dream,” you groaned, squeezing tightly around him causing his body to tense, “am I not giving you enough?” Dean opened his mouth to reply, but his voice was caught in his throat, eyes squeezed as tightly as they could. You slowed your pace so he could gather his thoughts, but it only seemed to lose him more. “Touch me, darling,” you whispered.

He immediately complied, warm, thick fingers splayed across your flushed skin, seeking and searching every inch of you with your permission. His hand cupped you over your bra and a frown pulled at his lips. “Take it off,” you told him, stilling for the moment so he could focus on his task of popping open your bra and tugging it off in one smooth motion. Then his hands were back on you again, squeezing greedily at your breasts when you continued to ride him.

His hands slid from your chest to your back, rubbing up and down your spine as you began to pick up speed. Ever so casually his hips began to meet yours. Normally, this would result in punishment, but you were getting so lost in the feeling, you allowed it. “That’s it,” you encouraged, leaning down to capture his lips with yours, tongues sliding against one another in time with your hips, “fuck me, Dean. Let me hear you.”

You released a flood gate. His arms wrapped tightly around your middle and his legs bent to get a good hold before pistoning up into you with fervor. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers digging back into his hair to tug on the strands and he hid his face away in your chest, biting and licking at your skin. Each thrust tore a deep, rumbling groan from his throat that vibrated through you and straight to your core.

Dean fucked up into you like his life depended on it, his hands digging into your sides hard enough to leave marks that’d you feel for days. The slapping of your skin echoed through the room, drowned out only when one of you managed to find the air to get out a moan or whimper.

From his erratic thrusts, you knew he was close and so were you. With your tight grip in his hair, you pulled back his head and shoved your tongue down his throat and slid the other hand down between you to desperately rub at your clit. “Cum for me,” you breathed into him, forcing your eyes open. “Fill me up.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he whined, staring up at you with those gorgeous eyes, so desperate to please you.

You tumbled over the edge then, the coil he had twisted so tight within you sprung free. You crashed into him with breathless praises as your warmth clamped and spasmed around him. He wasn’t far behind, a few deep, hard thrusts and he spilled into you with a choked sob, mouth parted and eyes rolled into his head.

“So good,” you whispered to him as you both started to come down from your highs, still wrapped around each other, connected in the most intimate way possible. “You did so good, Dean. I’m so proud of you,” you praised and ran both of your hands through his hair, down his face, placing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he returned breathlessly, laying down and bringing you with him. He carefully slipped out of you and you shifted to curl up against his left side, one of his arms still around you, the other was used to wipe the sweat from his brow.

When you caught your breath and remembered how to move, you sat up and kissed him properly, a slow burning kiss that curled your toes. “You alright,” you asked, slipping out of your role. Your eyes shifted to the mark on his arm.

“Better now,” he answered with a nod, closing his eyes so he didn’t have to see your curious gaze. “Sorry about last time, you know? My job… It gets stressful. I thought I could deal with it on my own.”

“You don’t need to explain, Dean,” you smiled, kissing along his stubbled chin. “I’ll always be here for you.”

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #orginally posted on the account @plaided-ani

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that-damn-girl · 4 years

Text

(9) Bucky and The Bed

Completed

Chapter 8

Bucky and The Bed Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (cis)fem!reader

Words: 4200+

Summary: You and Bucky are stranded in the middle of a snowy nowhere when there is an ‘electronic blackout’ during your mission. With no back ups or any way to contact your team, you take refuge from the worsening weather in the only cabin you find in miles. Not to mention, with no power, Bucky has become your personal heater and there’s only one bed.

Chapter type: Fluff.

Chapter/Trigger warning: Language? Slow build.

A/N: This chapter has been divided into two parts, because I couldn’t control myself and it turned out to be longer than I expected. I’m trying to update it as often as I can. I want to enjoy as I write, not turn updating into a chore. Hope you understand. Thank you so damn much for bearing with me still. Hope you like this part!

It felt different, very much so. He looked different as much as he felt different. Bucky had never thought he'd ever see the man he had only seen in old history books and documentaries and much older family albums. But Bucky looked at him as he stood in front of the mirror. Dirt lined the edges and corners of the mirror. The reflection wasn't as sharp as it could have been, but his attention was solely concentrated at the centre.

The face Bucky saw, he knew and he recognised it, and it felt familiar in a way he supposed. Yet he felt like he had met the man he saw, for the first time, or rather after a very, very long time.

Bucky raised his hand and so did the man in front of him. The man Bucky staring at Bucky glided his fingers over his ever-growing scruff and Bucky felt the short hair scratch his calloused skin. The man in the reflection was familiar and yet not so much. The man staring back at him had Bucky's face with his sharp features, his ocean grey eyes, his nose, his plump lips, and just about everything else which made Bucky look like Bucky.

The hair though…

It felt different, very much so, but it was a good kind of different, one he was very much in need of. Yes he'd mourn the length of his hair lost, and him taking care of his hair like he had since he'd been free, and yes he'd miss your fingers running through his locks, turning and twisting them into pretty braids or updos because Wanda never let you play with hers. He would miss the pads of your fingers tugging at his locks, sometimes just for the fun of it, or when he'd take you apart on his mouth and his fingers.

He knew he would miss it. He would miss a multitude of things about his hair being cut short. He'd miss their weight resting against his shoulders and weight of his man-bun at the back of his head -hell, he was already missing it-, the feel of them covering his ears and the curtain of security he hid himself behind. He knew he wouldn't miss the plethora of lost hair ties which even the Winter Soldier couldn't keep a track of, but he would miss the familiarity of wearing a spare on his wrist.

But Bucky couldn't deny it felt weird too. Had...had his ears always looked so large? No, they hadn't seemed so whenever he had his hair tied or in a bun. If he looked closely, his jawline didn't seem the same either. It was sharp and curved at all the angles it had been the previous day, but there was something that just felt different that he couldn't pin-point.

Maybe it was the spiky, cropped hair just above his ear, or how fluffy his crown seemed now that it wasn't weighted down by his longer locks, or the feel of nothing shrouding the back of his neck, or the lack of a dark backdrop of his hair behind his neck when he didn't have it tied, or the feel of his hair not tucked behind his ears, or the knowledge that he won't ever feel it again, not for a long time at least.

Yet he didn't regret it. At all. It was something he had decided to do himself, completely on his own, without any input - be it passive or aggressive - from any other living being. It was his choice, his decision and his own. It was his time to...not start over per say, but to do what he wanted, what he thought was right. He had spent so long at the whim of others, made to slave away for their sole advantage. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life slaving to unsurety, cowering behind the fear of what might happen.

It was also refreshing, looking at a new himself. He never thought scissoring off his locks would change his looks so much. He had known it at the back of his head perhaps, but he never expected it to be so true.

He couldn't help but stare at himself, his head turning this way and that, slowly, carefully taking in all his new angles he now saw in a new light. His hand raised to glide through his hair. Such short strands would feel weird for some time he mused, but he'd make it through the first few days without any complaints.

His lips parted in a fake smile, just to test how different expressions would look on his face with his hair cropped and fluffy. The fake smile soon turned into a bashful grin. He didn't know what he expected; his hair length had changed, not really the planes of his face.

His eyes caught you in the mirror, your form tangled in the sheets he had left warm, asleep blissfully, hugging the pillow he had been using close to your body. What would you think of his decision? What if you didn't like it? What if you preferred his long locks only? Would you be...angry with him?

No, his heart corrected him in that instant. No, you would not. You'd never be angry with him for taking care of or making decisions for his own self. You'd in fact berate him for even letting such self depriving thoughts enter his mind. He chuckled. You really were an angel to him.

His legs carried him to the bed, to you. He laid down on his side very gently so as to not disturb you as you slept on your side. Drawing the covers over himself, his hands curled around your middle as he pulled himself closer to you, his front flush against your back. Dainty lips deftly kissed your clothed shoulder, slowly making their way to the hollow of your neck and above. His lips brushed every curve of your skin along the way.

You were woken up by soft warm kisses being peppered on your cheek. Bucky's scruff grazed your neck, making the sensitive skin there tingle. You giggled at the stimulation, your body sinking into the heat of his embrace. Sensing you wake up, he doubled his efforts to shower you with affection. Had you been awake, you would have wondered why the ends of his locks were not brushing your skin, but that was too much thinking for your sleep dazed mind as your eyes remained closed. You only focused on his lips smiling against your skin.

"Morning, baby doll." Bucky said, landing another kiss behind your ear, successfully making you purr.

"Morning, Bucky," You cuddled closer into him. "Isn't someone really happy this morning?"

"Every moment with you is a happy moment, Y/N."

You smiled bright and wide, "Oh, aren't you such a romantic?" Opening your eyes, you turned on your back to look at Bucky.

Your body stiffened and a loud gasp left your lips at the sight. It made you pull back instantly. You almost didn't recognise him for a second, your body already ready to fight the supposedly unknown man in your bed; in Bucky's place. Upon closer inspection though, your panic stricken, overworking mind realised that it was none other than Bucky, just as he had always been. Except for the hair.

It had only taken a handful of seconds, but they were enough to send Bucky into a panic blackhole of his own. That was it. That was exactly the reaction he had been fearing. You didn't like his cut short. You wouldn't want him now. How was he even going to progress with his plan if that was the case? Would you-

Fingers raked through the side of his head, slow and hesitant, exploring the cropped hair. He looked at your eyes, that were wide not with anger as he thought but with disbelief.

Your fingers reached the back of his head to find the hair there just as short. You couldn't believe it, truly. It felt weird in a way...new if you had to use another for it, how you didn't feel the slight weight of his locks as you combed through it. It felt even more... different to look at the man, the legend you had read about in school alongside the first Captain America in front of you.

A soft "Bucky…" left your lips, your gaze bouncing around his face. You had known it was the same man all along, but now with his hair style nearly the same as he had back in the day, the similarities were even more emphasised. He looked every bit Sergeant Bucky Barnes of the Howling Commandos. The only difference were the hard planes of his that made him look much older, not because he was over a hundred years old, - ok, probably that too - but because of all the things he had seen, suffered through, survived and overcome in his unbelievably long life. "...wow!"

"You like it?" Bucky asked shyly, biting his lips nervously. His eyes squinted slightly as he awaited your reply.

"Like it?" You scoffed, your hand cupping his handsome face, "I love it, Bucky!" You pulled his down for a quick peck to his lips. "You look so good. Not that you didn't before. I mean, you still do look so breathtaking. It's just a new look that I never thought I'd see on you and I was surprised for a second, that's it. But I love this look just as much, really-"

"Y/N," Bucky called your name, chuckling. When you realised you were rambling, it was your turn to be bashful.

"It's just...I don't know what prompted it, but... it's a good change. And I'm happy you decided to do it, whatever your reason is." Bucky grinned, knowing he had predicted right. You really were an angel to him, supportive as always.

His hand cupped the back of your hand which cradled his face. "There's something else I gotta tell you." He said, his face morphing into one full of seriousness.

You sat up, your back resting against the headboard, giving him your full attention. Your hand fell down from his face, atop the bunched covers on your lap. Bucky sat up straight too, criss crossing his legs on your side. "I'm listening."

It was a thing you did ever since you had started being friends, during late night conversations - or any time of the day when you two were alone. It had been a way of bringing Bucky out of his shell, especially when he didn't know, or rather had forgotten how to truly express what he felt. You started it on Sam's suggestion. You'd ask Bucky about his day, what made him feel sad or happy or any other emotions. If he wouldn't speak, you'd start talking about your day. He'd talk to you about other things, but he never did say how he felt.

You thought part of the reason was his upbringing in the early twentieth century, when boys were taught not to express much except bravado and anger. Part of it might have been because none had asked him that, or let him be himself for seventy fucking years. He did have a therapist to talk to, sure, but he needed a friend as well. You and Sam were there for him then.

He hadn't talked about his feelings in the first few weeks. You'd ask him to share and if he wouldn't, you'd share yours. Although he wouldn't talk, he was a great listener. He'd laugh along with you at your funny incidences and give you a shoulder to rely on after a rough day. He'd be angry along with you at the writers for being unjust to your favourite character and celebrate with you because the sweet intern in the PR team finally got herself a chance with the girl she had been dreaming about day and night. He'd do much more but it had taken sometime for him to openly talk about his feelings.

The first time that he did, he had quietly mentioned how his heart had been heavy after watching the Toy Story saga, and yet he couldn't stop himself from binging it again and again. He told you how bad he wished his sisters could have seen those movies with him.

"There's something else I gotta tell you."

The next day he told you he liked watching cat videos after Peter the spiderling had taught him the various features of instagram.

"There's something else I gotta tell you."

Another day he told you how he absolutely loved messing with Sam, because he somewhat reminded him of Steve.

Days on which he'd tell you about how he felt regarding one thing or the other kept piling up, upto the point where you didn't have to coax it out of him. He'd either tell you himself, or would place it in normal day to day conversations. It wasn't always easy, but he had always tried.

Deducing from his face, you concluded he had to talk about something similar right then. It had to be something important if he was saying the same line in the same tone again. You were all ears for him, for whatever he had to say.

His hands took both of your palms in his warm hold, his eyes set onto them. He meant to say the words, but nothing came out of his mouth. He had been so sure of himself, of what he wanted to do a few moments earlier but ironically, he was a mess of nerves now that the time had come.

A hundred different ways to start developed in his brain, but he couldn't choose anyone. More like he didn't know how to. Not like he had done this before.

Sensing his hesitation, you cradled his cheek once again, lifting his head to meet your eyes. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Bucky couldn't move his head or nod, for he was solely on your eyes, full of adoration and patience. He did hear you and wanted to nod, but only thoughts about how much he cared for you overtook his brain. He may have moved his head in the slightest, which wasn't even enough of a nod to be noticed by you.

"You don't have to tell me right now if you're uncomfortable." You continued, "It's okay. You can tell me whenever you want to. We have all the time in the world. I'll always be there for you."

How could he not love you?

Bucky smiled, though it still betrayed how nervous he was. He took your hands back in his and brought them to his lips, kissing your knuckles soft and long. If he had to do it, if he had to say it, he needed to do it right then, he decided. There was no backing out. He would not let himself cower this time.

He didn't want to hide his feelings from you or anyone else any longer. He wanted you to know how deeply he felt for you. If you did love him as he did you, that'd be the best thing to happen to him. But if you didn't, he'd accept it and respect your wishes, and comply on however you'd want to proceed. But he couldn't not let you know how loved you were, how deserving you were of everything at its best. He couldn't delay the chance to truly love and cherish you. And so he did.

"I love you."

A moment or two passed. Perhaps more, but you didn't know. How could you, when you were sure your brain had finally bowed down in front of your daylight fantasies and short circuited? For how else could you have heard the man you loved say that he loved you too? Impossible. You were sure your mind was playing tricks on you. That or you were dreaming, again. But it felt so real, too real. In your confused, utterly dumbfounded state, you said the only thing you were capable of.

"What?"

Again, Bucky wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it sure wasn't that. He realised that he did catch you off guard. Had he been in your place, perhaps he may have reacted that way too. He simply repeated himself.

"I love you, Y/N."

Bucky took a deep breath, his chest shuddering from how nervous he still felt. "It's not a spur of the moment realisation, I swear. It's been that way for a while now. I've…" He smiled, "I've loved you since a long time, doll. I only realised it a few days ago. You might think it's because it's been only for nearly a week now, so that's the reason how I feel what I feel for you. But I assure you, that's not the case. You were my friend first and foremost, and I am glad I had someone like you at the lowest of my points to pull me up and help me come out of those dark days. And you still do, Y/N. Baby, I love you so fucking much, I…"

Bucky kept rambling, and you would have honestly chuckled if you hadn't been staring at him open mouthed. So it wasn't a dream. You had heard him the first time perfectly. So he did return your affections. So he did love you, as you did love him. He had repeated himself and you had heard him the second time too, but it still felt unreal, unbelievable. Your heart was pounding hard in the captivity of your ribcage, begging your mind to act on the joy the news brought to you. But you sat there, unable to move, replaying those words over and over again to let your mind register it, while Bucky kept on rambling in a nervous streak.

He was silenced by your lips crashing on his in an instant. It wasn't soft like your usual morning kisses. It had sort of an urgency to it. Your lips moved slow but hard against his, punctuating each fleeting second by the loud smacks of your lips and the low hum generating in your throat. Your palms traversed to his face, cradling his face quite firmly, as if afraid he'd disappear if you wouldn't. Your heart took control of all your actions as your brain shut down, too busy in Bucky's lips dancing with yours to care about anything else.

You raised on your knees, leaning into him. Bucky grasped your middle in his large hands, roughly pulling down your body into his lap. One hand moved to support your back while the other remained at your waist.

It was you who had initiated the kiss, but Bucky was the one controlling it now. You happily gave into his demands, your arms curling around his neck. You kissed him with a fervor that shouldn't have been possible for a person who had just woken up, but Bucky received them eagerly and reciprocated your kisses just as enthusiastically. After what felt like an eternity had passed, Bucky softly pulled back.

Your eyes which had closed if their own accord opened slowly, only to find Bucky gazing at you. Perhaps he might have understood what the kiss meant, but he needed a verbal confirmation, one which you were happy to provide.

"I love you."

Your hoarse voice whispered. Just like you thought, Bucky had the same reaction as you. He heard what you said, understood it too, but his mind needed a moment to register it too. You, on the other hand, were over the momentary shock. Bubbles of happiness burst inside you and you couldn't control yourself from pulling down Bucky, connecting his lips to yours again.

Bucky responded in kind, unable to to resist you. The kiss was a weird mix of soft and hard at times, something just like you and Bucky. You couldn't usually get enough of this man, but something about the confession, about knowing that he loved you just as hard too, it somehow made you want him more.

Bucky loved kissing you and doing all sorts of other things to you which was severely inappropriate for certain age groups. Hell, he loved everything about you - he loved you! He'd never not kiss you when he had the chance, but the man had to reluctantly pull back and ask, "You do?"

Big ocean grey eyes stared into yours, looking for the slightest bit of confirmation. Bucky Barnes put his vulnerability in your hands, empowering you to either preserve it or crush it. The decision laid in your hands.

But you didn't need to decide something which was already pre-decided. Ever since he'd been your friend, ever since you'd decided you'd loved him, ever since he'd decided to trust you, to show you his vulnerable parts and his hardships, you'd sworn time and again to preserve any and all parts of himself that he gave or showed you, and keep them safe from the evils of the world or die doing so.

Now that he was giving you a part of his heart, a part that belonged solely and completely to you, you'd gently hold it with love and care, protect it and treasure it, keeping it close to you. You'd do his decision justice of trusting you with such a crucial part of himself. It'll be a bigger responsibility, one one that you'd accept with wipe open arms and embrace it lovingly.

You'd give a part of your heart solely and completely to him too, a part that only he was deserving of. For you somehow knew there would be no other man who would love you as he would, who would trust you and trust in you like he would. Bucky Barnes was the only man for you, and will forever be the only man for you.

"You don't have to say anything just because I did." Bucky mistook the lack of conversation for something else and continued talking. "Or not right away, if you don't want to. I'd accept whatever your reply would be, really. I'd respect your wishes, no matter what you say."

Bucky's eyes still bore into yours, patiently awaiting your answer. You smiled, your fingers brushing the short hair on the side of his head.

"Then accept this. I love you so much, Bucky Barnes. So fucking much."

You pulled him down to softly peck his lips. Bucky didn't move his forehead away from yours, his hand gently stroking the back of your neck. His eyes were shut, soaking every word you said in his bones.

"I've loved for so long too, Bucky. But I couldn't tell you, I didn't know hot to. I didn't want to scare you off by moving things too fast. I didn't want to lose you. But it was getting harder and harder each day; being with you but not being able to love you the way you should be loved."

His nervous face gradually broke into a grin. Bucky chuckled softly, "Doll, there's nothing you could do that would be enough to scare me away. You're stuck with me."

"Am I now?" You inquired in a tone just as playful. "Well, I'd rather be stuck with you than be away with you any longer."

"Who's the charmer now?" Bucky said, pulling back his amused face to look at you properly.

"Learnt from the best." You said with a grin.

Bucky leaned down to kiss you again, because why not? His heart was brimming with joy as his nerves sang loudly. He kissed you lovingly and passionately, happy to call you his lover. He had been such a lucky bastard, Bucky realised, to not only have you process his feelings so well but reciprocate them too. Could anyone have been more luckier than him?

His lips moved expertly against yours, his tongue sweeping over your lower lip. Not wasting any time, his tongue clashed with yours as soon as you gave him permission. The kiss grew hot and heated gradually. His hands moved up and down your sides, warming up your body with just his touch. Need and want for something more slowly made its way to you, entrapping the pair of you in its hold. A heavy dose of lust mixed with your abundance of love.

You could feel his member growing half hard beneath you. You shifted yourself to spread your legs around his torso, straddling him. Bucky's metal arm automatically dropped down to your butt, encouraging the slow grinds you had begun. Nothing about the way you kissed seemed innocent now.

Bucky knew what would entail next, as the same had been happening for a few days. But this time, he wanted something more if you agreed to it. He trusted you, no doubt, but now he was ready. He was ready to give himself to you completely, without any restraints or reservations. He wanted you to have him as much as he wanted to have you. He didn't only want to love you, he wanted to make love to you too. So fucking much.

He never thought he'd open that part of him to anyone, but you weren't just anyone. You were his Y/N, his doll, his friend, his lover. He'd trust you with everything and beyond.

He gently pulled back only enough to speak properly, his forehead touching yours. Inhaling deeply, he said, "I'm ready to go all the way with you."

The divider is made by @writeyourmindaway

Chapter 10

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hualianff · 3 years

Text

Birthday Boy HC

Modern AU with police chief HC who is very dedicated to his job, especially because he grew up in a “bad” area and has first-hand experience from inadequate police service in poor neighborhoods. His co-workers and friends never see him go on second dates or have one-night stands. When HC’s birthday comes up, he insists he doesn’t want a grand occasion.

However, a simple party, he will permit.

Leave it to HX’s partner, SQX, to invite all of HC’s friends and acquaintances to HC’s own penthouse for a surprise birthday party, scheduled for the evening since HC typically works very late. When the police chief arrives home, still in his black uniform pants and red dress-shirt that goes under his suit jacket, the party is on the precipice of a full swing celebration.

HC is a bit put off by how loud and crowded his home is but it’s not necessarily a bad thing. Things are lonely, he will admit. And if this is a once-in-a-blue-moon thing, then HC won’t stop others from enjoying themselves and frankly, spoiling him.

At the height of the party, right when YY is about to present the birthday cake, SQX whistles for everyone’s attention.

“All right, Hua Cheng, time to sit on that chair over there,” SQX says while steering HC from behind, pushing on his shoulder. The chair is placed in the middle of the living room, in the perfect spot to watch the front door open.

The lights are gradually dimmed.

HC is too confused to protest. He cautiously sits down.

The front door pivots open. The person who walks through the door makes HC’s eye widen in surprise. They are dressed in all black: jean-booty shorts, stilettos, and a tight-fitting crop top. A sheer veil is also draped over their shoulders, falling gracefully behind them as they enter the room. They wear a headband with pointy horns and dark, red lipstick.

As the person gets closer, HC’s breath picks up.

“You didn’t-“ he whispers mindlessly, directed at SQX. His best friend’s partner merely holds their hands up in surrender, as if saying they did nothing wrong.

The scarcely-dressed person looks around demurely, aware everyone’s eyes are on them, ogling at their outfit that exposes lots of skin.

And then they set their gaze on HC, who sits frozen in the chair, hands gripping his thighs.

“Are you the birthday boy?” The stranger asks, smirking slightly. HC audibly gulps, not quite believing the sight of his childhood neighbor standing right in front of him, dressed like a demon summoned for punishment for his sins.

(It takes .05 seconds for HC to tent up in his pants.)

HC can’t bring himself to speak without stuttering like a fool. It’s clear that he’s the birthday boy—he’s sitting in a chair in the middle of the room, goddamn it. But for whatever reason, HC feels like he needs to respond to every one of this man’s signals.

So he stiffly nods, managing to maintain eye contact.

XL’s smirk widens mischievously, holding a secret promise behind those glistening lips. He prowls forward slowly, the click of his stiletto heels echoing across the marble floor.

“It looks like I’ve gotten myself into a little trouble,” he says with faux-innocence, slipping the veil off his shoulders. Instead of coming onto HC, XL slinks around him, letting the veil skim across HC’s lap, up to his chest, and over his face.

It faintly smells of peach.

“All right, Mr. Policeman,” XL addresses, pausing to stand behind HC. “What should I call you?”

HC breathes out harshly through his nose, desperately wanting to tilt his head back in order to get another glimpse at the angel- no, minx who has evoked the intensity of desire and lust long-buried under HC’s skin. It steadily rises to the surface, heating HC’s skin, making him feel too hot in a room where too many people remain to watch the show.

“Hmm, will ‘chief’ do? Or perhaps...sir?”

“Hua Cheng is just fine,” HC grits out. He gives in to looking behind his shoulder with curious eyes. XL’s face is startlingly close, amber eyes holding a sultry look that sends pleasure down HC’s spine.

Then, those eyes fixate on him, getting a really good look for the first time. Familiarity flashes across XL’s expression but he quickly wipes it away in favor of connecting their foreheads.

“Hua Cheng it is.”

The click of handcuffs binding HC’s wrists behind the back of the chair makes his heart drop to his stomach. He whips his head around to SQX and HX who stand off to the side. HX raises an amused eyebrow.

Somehow, SQX convinced HX to steal a pair from the office.

These are his own cuffs.

“Is this okay, Hua Cheng?” XL whispers genuinely in HC’s. When HC audibly hitches, he giggles.

“Yes.”

XL unties HC’s low ponytail to card his fingers through the police chief’s hair.

“Does it feel good?”

Fuck, XL is barely touching him, but the light brush of his fingers ignites a flame in HC’s heart, making him feel alive.

XL unbuttons the top three buttons of HC’s shirt.

“There. All ripe for the taking,” XL purrs. He drags the veil up and over HC’s face as he walks away. A strong bass pounds from HC’s built-in speaker SQX has managed to operate.

XL begins dancing for HC, swiveling his hips and rotating in time with the music. HC’s breath quickens up, his police attire also feeling unbearably hot. XL ditches the veil, and then he’s walking to HC, long legs crossing with every step.

HC is certain he won’t survive this.

***

It turns out to be nothing more than a sensual lap dance. There was no kissing on the lips, no groping on HC’s part, and no intimate touches because XL isn’t that kind of dancer. SQX knew this. He also knew HC wouldn’t want anything more than a bit of teasing anyways.

Luckily, SQX contacting a fellow friend who he’d modeled with once has allowed HC to see XL again. When he’s released from the cuffs, HC stands up and approaches where XL picks up his veil from the ground.

“Gege?” HC questions quietly. XL turns to look at him, a pink blush dusted on his cheeks.

“Oh, hello again, San Lang,” the other man greets, nearly the same height as HC with the stilettos on. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Hmm.”

It hadn’t been either of their faults. Or maybe it was both. HC traveled to another part of the country to be enrolled in the most prestigious academy in the nation. XL moved to a different big city to pursue a degree in economics. Years of separation caused them to drift apart from best friends in high school to strangers living very different lives.

“Well, it’s really nice to see you again. The circumstances are a bit... unconventional, but I’m glad it was you,” XL laughs lightly, readjusting his headband with pointy horns. HC tries not to stare at how well they suit the other man.

XL shifts a bit uncomfortably, hugging the sheer veil tighter around his body. HC feels a natural smile curl upon his lips in hopes it soothes XL’s qualms about his state of dress.

“I’m glad it was you too, gege,” HC says honestly. XL’s face lights up like the golden fairy lights he had pinned on his childhood room walls. “If it’s not too much trouble, I ask if gege can stay?”

“Oh.”

“At least for cake-” HC rushes out, praying to whatever bastard up there that XL will say yes. “It’s strawberry,” he adds, softer. XL tilts his head in astonishment.

“I thought your favorite flavor was coconut?” XL asks in surprise.

“It is. But...I asked for strawberry this year,” HC finishes lamely.

Was he being too obvious? Would XL figure him out and be repelled? Sure, it was only a cake flavor, but what are the chances XL’s favorite is still strawberry?

XL takes his phone out of the canvas bag SQX brought to him after the dance. He scrolls for a few seconds, then quickly types something out. Turning the device back in its place, XL meets HC’s gaze with a cheerful smile.

He closes all the distance between them, a certain bounce in his step.

“I believe,” XL starts. “I can keep the birthday boy company for a little while longer.”

HC smiles widely, flashing his front row of teeth–his right canine pointier than the rest.

“Brilliant.”

***

Turns out, “a little while longer” meant talking until every last person called it a night and headed out. They catch up on all the years they missed out on each others’ lives.

Four years ago, XL adopted a daughter, Ban Yue. Ban Yue was a split-second decision when XL was a year out of university, unsure of what direction his life was heading. He says it’s the best decision he’s ever made.

“She brings me so much happiness. It was like I had a Ban Yue-shaped hole and she was the missing puzzle piece,” XL says enthusiastically. He pauses to take one more sip of his baijiu. “Does that even make sense? Hahaha….”

“It does,” HC reassures from beside him. They sit on his plush, velvet couch, holding their respective drinks with practiced form. XL leans back against the cushions, sighing in relief.

“San Lang, I knew you would understand,” he murmurs.

He doesn’t elaborate.

He doesn’t need to. It’s no secret XL’s parents would’ve disapproved of him for single-parenting a random orphan with no known heritage or background. But they were already out of the picture, disowning XL right after high school graduation when he was outed by a family friend whose advances XL rejected.

“Perhaps you can meet her one day,” XL adds as an afterthought. HC matches XL’s position, reclining against the cushions, keeping his body turned towards XL, offering him HC’s full, undivided attention. It’s a simple gesture that means everything to someone like XL.

“I would love to,” HC says.

XL hums happily, then goes on to explain that he’s a telemarketer by day, which allows him to stay home with flexible work hours that fit around Ban Yue’s school schedule. (She’s in the third grade now.)

XL also mentions that he occasionally dances at night for an extra income. Nothing too intense or frequent. Just dressing up and dancing for special occasions, at parties like HC’s. XL typically has MQ or FX babysit Ban Yue during those nights.

The word family echoes in the hollow of HC’s chest.

“Gege’s been leading a very eventful and prosperous life,” HC comments with satisfaction. He leans forward to tug the maple-red coat he lent back over XL’s shoulders, ensuring the other man stayed warm.

“Nonsense, my life is just like anybody else’s,” XL says, waving his hand in a lax motion. “But I am very interested in hearing about San Lang’s life. Police chief, huh?”

“Gege…” HC mutters shyly. Against his will, his mind replays the moment XL asked if he should address HC as “sir.”

Boners don’t get boyfriends; sexy, mature conversations do, HC tells himself.

“Please, San Lang? I won’t force you to talk too much about yourself! I know we don’t...know each other as well as we used to,” XL says, a bit embarrassed. “If you want, we can just end right now and I can leave-”

“No! Not at all, I’ll tell gege anything he wants,” HC says, scooting even closer to XL so their hips bump against one another. XL sets down his empty glass, his unsure expression morphs to contentedness.

As it should always be.

“Well…” HC trails off, taken aback by how vivid XL’s amber irises gleam as they pin HC down. “Actually, there isn’t much to tell-”

“Just tell it is how it is, San Lang!” XL laughs, reaching over to playfully bat at HC’s arm.

“Okay, okay! I’m on it.”

#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #hualian #hualian au #xie lian #hua cheng #modern au #cerdrabbles #slice of life #fluff #they're flirting your honor

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