#i love how inkling babies genuinely just Look Like That | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bitchlessdino · 1 year

Note

hey nana!!! i read your mingyu, wonwoo and the chan, seungcheol, soonyoung smuts and i loved it!!!<3 i'm wondering if you could write a smut about my biases which are soonyoung, wonwoo and jihoon since after caratland i LOVEEE wonwoo with his glasses and how soonyoung and jihoon looked:) maybe have it like be vanilla? or it could be vanilla leading to hard sex which would be awesome,, i'm fine with anything!!! tsym nana!!💞

-🧽

Pairing: fem!reader x wonwoo x soonyoung x jihoon

Genre: smut

Word count: 5.8k

tags: mentions of alcohol, drunk sex, break ups, mention of cheating, swords crossing, cum swapping, cum eating, double pen, breast play, oral (giving and receiving), double oral(?), act of video recording sexual acts, praise kink, degradation, pet names (princess and baby), unprotected sex, creampie

Summary: The subway train? The bullet train? The soul train?? No...the only way off of heartbreak city is the Homie Train. Translation: do not spare a single one of your ex's friends. You will have to fuck every one of them. It's a guaranteed way.

author note: i kind went wild, i did my thing, i lost myself in sex, im here. with more filth. ha. haha. im ok, I promise. no I'm not

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @honglynights @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han

“Hae is a jerk. You’re better off.”

He did it over text. “We should see other people,” it said and all of a sudden, tears burned your eyes while your hands were scorching to the touch. You had an inkling this would happen but were not thinking it’d be this soon. Your boyfriend–well, now ex–always made you feel like you were never enough or didn’t care to put in effort despite the fact you were.

It perhaps started around your anniversary when you had planned a date night for just the two of you. Shock drew on your face when he entered the location with not only himself but his friends to follow, three in fact.

Wonwoo, a fellow gamer he met through gaming tournaments and PC cafes. Soonyoung, a guy he met at an EDM concert around a year or two ago and never left. And finally, Jihoon, Soonyoung’s friend, someone just as uncomfortable as you were.

You pulled your boyfriend aside, saying you had only planned it to be a couples' night. It was then he insisted they’d only be here a short while. You’d still have their couple's night, and everything would be fine. But not a word of ‘anniversary’ once came up in the conversation. You should’ve known since then.

They had to have been the genuinely nicest guys you’ve ever encountered. No partner was perfect, but getting to know all three guys made you realize your boyfriend was far from it. Perhaps even the worse of the bunch. While Hae was preoccupied, Jihoon politely and quietly apologized. One, for overhearing your conversation, and two, for intruding on your night out.

You dismissed it, although bitter from the interruption, said what’s done is done and that you were still having a good time. It was the truth. Hae’s friends made good company, trying to make sure you were drinking enough water, eating enough food, and entertaining you just as much as they were each other.

At the end of the night, they were the ones insisting on getting you home early after your boyfriend rejected taking you home himself.

You had done a lot of thinking since then, wondering how you came to this, when you realized they had followed you on social media, a universal sign of friendship. You talked with them more comfortably over time, seeing them almost as often as you did Hae, and eventually, they became your friends too. Despite that, your romantic relationship never improved and here you were, a blubbering mess in front of your new friends.

Wonwoo continued to hand you off tissues while Soonyoung pulled back your hair from covering your face. Jihoon, on the other hand, surfed Netflix for revenge movies that would take your mind off their stupid friend, if he could even call him that.

“Do Revenge, John Tucker Must Die, Carrie. Any of these sound appealing?”

“Why are they all high schoolers,” you asked, sniffling.

“Because teenagers are the most conniving, manipulative creatures on planet Earth. That's why they’re so good at revenge stories. Thought you could enjoy blowing off steam.”

You shook your head, blowing your nose into the cushion felt of the tissue before tossing it in a pile you made before they got here. “They all sound awful. Can’t we just skip to the end of The Glory when she finally gets her revenge on all of them?”

“No way,” Soonyoung retorted, “I just barely got through the curling iron parts. I can’t just skip…or I guess we could.”

He flipped the switch immediately after seeing the pitiful look on your face, caressing the side of your head to hinder any more tears from falling.

“We’ll do what you want,” Wonwoo assured, “as long as you start feeling better.”

He gave you your last tissue, and you mouthed a thank you before Jihoon put on the dark drama and you joined together on the couch. They made the process more manageable–not any less heartbreaking–but you couldn’t understand why it had hurt so hard. He had friends he treated well, better than you’ve ever seen. Why couldn’t he have done the same for you?

You hadn’t planned on it, but the sun had gone down, and you were still accompanied by these three men, two deep in sleep. Meanwhile, Wonwoo had gone off to get himself water. “Want a cup?”

You trodded towards the tall man, still slumped from your emotions but accepting his glass as he poured himself a new one. “You guys didn’t have to come over.”

“Why wouldn’t we?”

You shrugged, “You were his friends first, I don’t know. Isn’t there bro code or something?”

He scoffed, “I think in these situations, we can figure out who’s in the wrong, and you’re perfect.”

Now it was your turn to scoff, finishing off the rest of your water before placing it to clean in the sink for your future self to clean. “If I’m so perfect, why would he break up with me?”

“I just told you. You’re perfect. Hae isn’t. He’s an idiot.”

“Wonwoo, he’s your friend.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about anymore,” he said, placing his empty cup next to yours.

“So what? You’re gonna stop being friends with him because he broke up with me?” You joked half-heartedly.

He thought for a second before nodding. “Yeah…I think that’s the right response.”

You didn’t expect it. This man, feelings more platonic than anything for you, has shown more loyalty to you in the past few months than your ex did in the past year. The tears were finally starting to come back. Wonwoo responded quickly and embraced you. His enormous arms tugged you against his broad upper body, his chin hugging the curve of your head, like two matching puzzle pieces. “I’m sorry you had to endure him. You deserve more than tolerance. You deserve love and care.”

You sobbed harder, staining the fabric of his sweater.

“Y/n, is that you crying? Not again.” Soonyoung quickly came by your side, joining you while a sleepy Jihoon quickly followed behind and embraced you just the same.

You had never felt warm like this. Three guys that had no ties to you besides someone you had a relationship with, now hugged you like they never wanted to let go. Had you met any of them before your ex, you wonder if you’d be crying the way you were now.

You didn’t want the night to end, so you insisted they stayed the night. You let borrow some oversize clothes that could probably fit them snugly and cracked open a few drinks to buzz out the emotions.

“I blame Soonyoung. He’s an awful judge of character. Too trusting.”

Jihoon was already off his rocker after a counted two bottles of soju. He did mention he hardly drank, but now you were understanding why.

“How was I supposed to know he was an asshole,” the culprit questioned, losing it after one singular bottle. This was more alike than they’d like to admit. “He was an alright guy then. A dick to girls too good for him though.”

Your cheeks heated up hearing that, finishing up your first bottle.

“Like he plays Valo, he truly fumbled the bag right here.” Wonwoo slightly stirred, but still stood taller than the rest of them.

You waved your hands in front of them dismissively. “Guys, stop. He–hic–don’t trash talk him just because of me.”

“We’ll do what we want!” Soonyoung shouted. “He’s the one that screwed up first! Imagine a beautiful, nice, pretty, gorgeous, sweet person like Y/n comes…and you break up with them! Huh? Math is nonexistent. I always hated algebra.”

Soonyoung began nodding his head on your shoulder like a lonesome pet, pouting aggressively. “So bad. Hae stupid. Stupid. Stupid just like algebra.”

“Soonyoung, water please,” you requested, nudging the bottle in his mouth, and relieved to see him accept it.

“Yeah, he’s not drinking anymore,” Wonwoo twisted the cap on the bottle with any remainder left and set it aside in a place Soonyoung couldn’t reach.

You sighed, hot in places that could only be done with high intakes of alcohol. You fell back against the sturdy couch as your thighs scratched over the surface of your carpet. “I feel like I haven’t said thank you enough. So, thank you.”

“You’ve said it plenty,” Wonwoo chuckled, “but good to see you happier.”

“You know what I want to see,” Jihoon interrupted, “Hae’s face seeing that we’re here instead of with him at the bar like he asked us to be. Fuck that guy! Y/n’s out here crying, and he wants to go out? Fuck you, Hae!”

Jihoon was one emotionally unstable drunk. You had never seen him like this before. Out of all the guys, he may have visibly disliked Hae the most, and right now it was definitely showing.

Soonyoung hugged your body with all his strength, nuzzling into you. “He sucks. Stupid Hae.”

“Enough, okay. Let’s not talk about him,” you commanded, a small pout of your own forming.

“If I dated Y/n, I’d show how special she is every day,” Soonyoung blubbered. “Give her all the kisses she wants, take her all the places she wants, drive her home, just to wake up in bed with her.”

You lightly nudged the giggly drunk, “Aw Soon…”

“If it were me,” Wonwoo joined, “I’d plan date nights without inviting my friends and it’d be the nicest place in town, spoil her until she beats 3-month-old milk. Make her feel like the only girl in the world.”

You sighed out of embarrassment, covering your face so they couldn’t see the cheesy ass smile that was forming involuntarily. “Wonwoo–”

“I’d just love her.” Jihoon had finally started sobering up to the point his words were comprehensive, but even then he didn’t sound fully there, like truth serum was doing the lord’s work in a way. “I’d do what Hae couldn’t and give her the most love I could ever give because if it was one thing Hae got I was jealous of, it was her love and undivided attention. He wasn’t worth any of it. Now it’s gone to waste.”

That may have hit you the hardest, feeling the waterworks building up again. You got up from the ground to wrap snugly around Jihoon, feeling him stiffen underneath you but reciprocating after taking the moment to process. His hand came up your back in an awkward loop, resting his head on your forehead as he let you cry. He didn’t say anything, but he figured it was what you wanted.

“I love you all,” you sobbed, pressing your lips on the curve of his cheek abruptly. “You’re so nice to me.”

“Y/n,” Jihoon said, now fully sober and conscious of a less-than-sober woman smothering him.

“I mean it,” You kissed the other side of his face, “You’re all the kindest,” –kiss– “Sweetest” –kiss— “Most tender loving guys I’ve ever met.”

You were stamping the man's face all over until you were toppling on top of him. His hands grip the base of your shoulders from falling face-first into his, but now you were staring back into his rounded eyes behind his spectacles. Forehead beaded with sweet, adam’s apple shifting from a harsh swallow, and his shallow rise and fall of his chest against yours.

Your head was telling you all the right routes to take before you took the compulsive one and kissed his lips, grinding yourself on top of him. Jihoon eyes shot open before trying to move his head, away from your lips, slowly realizing he was succumbing to them.

“Y/n–”

“Don’t leave, Jihoon,” You softly whined.

He pulled you up from the ground to place you back on the front of the couch, a phantom of your lips on his. “You’re drunk.”

“So?”

“You’re not in your right state of mind, Y/n,” Wonwoo intruded.

“Like I have been for the past years being with Hae? Like how I was so blind to see the signs of him….cheating on me?”

The surrounding men grew silent, unable to answer.

“You all knew–”

“We didn’t,” Jihoon denied, “We found out from Instagram. We were kept in the dark too.”

You let out a harsh breath, forearm pressed against your damp eyes.

“Fuck it,” Soonyoung spoke up in what felt like forever and pressed his lips against yours, finding you quick to respond.

You climbed against his lap before you started grinding, the salt of your tears slipping past your meshed lips. Your needy moans burned in the collective men’s ears, churning their stomachs, tightening their inseams, and Soonyoung became what they all envied. The outsiders scooted closer to the couple to get a clear view, heat radiating over their bodies hotter than any sun in the galaxy.

Only pure animal instinct ran through you, a longing to get off, gnawing at you like an insect. You ran your hand through his hair, pulling on it to emit his soft whines. Your abdomen tensed up, now pushing your weight against him until you could make the outline of his toned, fit body.

He moaned your name helplessly, hands gathering the balls of your shirt into fists.

“Fuck me please,” you asked through weak whimpers, “Get him off me. Make him go away.”

At that moment, you knew exactly what you needed, sober or not. The image constantly ran through your mind of having dated one of them, any of them. They all would’ve had more potential of a happier future than you ever did with your ex.

Soonyoung completely understood, lifting your bodies from the ground and now on the couch. He shamelessly returned your kiss. His tongue moved at all angles for a taste, and the other men watched like the scene was a car crash, too mesmerized to look away, all while readjusting the discomfort in their pants.

Bothered by their needy presence so close, you pull away from Soonyoung to reunite with Jihoon, feeling more complacency than the initial kiss you shared. You cupped his face gingerly, stroking his soft features before taking his glasses off his face and placing it on the coffee table.

Meanwhile, Soonyoung felt your skin smooth under his palm, tasting the tenderness of your neck. His hands crawled up your back, pawing at the band of your bra before releasing the clasps, your breasts falling gently from the lack of support. Slipping under the underwire, he kneaded your tender breasts, fingers finding your pebbled sensitivity before squeezing, your moans running up your throat.

Wonwoo kneeled with his face toward your back, hands following up your sides as his lips trailed up your spine in soft wonder. The whisper of his breath sends tingles to your body and you arch your back in surprise. This doesn’t scare you, as right now you showed no protest, but his hand hover over the top of your sweats, lightly pulling at the elastic. Cautiously, he slid past the thick material to find your folds, drenched under a mess of your own making. Vicious and thick under his fingers, Wonwoo groaned in your ear. “God, look how wet you are…”

You gasped against Jihoon’s lips as Wonwoo’s finger made himself slip up your fold, a thick layer of film wrapping around his fingers like honey. You shuddered before Jihoon grabbed your head and kissed you deeper, his free hand lost in the depth of the jeans he wore. It was all of the best world together happening simultaneously and now you couldn’t imagine having anything else like it.

“I need to be in you so badly,” Wonwoo grunted, pushing himself up the end of the couch to retrieve friction to his groin.

His fingers dug deeper inside, thumb caressing your clit, as his teeth grazed your skin. You pushed your weight into Soonyoung’s lap, feeling his cock throbbing beneath you. Flushed, you tore your shirt off, exposing your torso for others to worship, and that they did.

Their hands are entangled with your frame, wrapping around every surface of sweet skin. Slowly, one by one, each of them began to tore off the clothes, exposing themselves. Bodies on bodies of fire, inflamed with unbridled lust, determined to make all parts of you quiver under their touch.

The couch wouldn’t have enough surface area, so they moved you to the bedroom. Jihoon’s hands were on your hips, and his lips peppered the nape of your neck. Soonyoung held up your front, latched on to your face with swollen lips. Meanwhile, Wonwoo closed the door behind them, stalking a beat later to enjoy the show.

Your bodies collapsed on the mattress and Soonyoung parted from you to allow Wonwoo access. Wonwoo towered over you, knee bent between your legs, lips languidly moving against yours. “What do you want?” He asked, kisses sweet and heated, “Let us give what your dumb boyfriend couldn’t.”

“Say the word, Y/n,” Soonyoung added, kissing your fingers, your palm, your wrist, and down your arm, “What will make you feel good?”

“Just…” you expelled desperate breath, “Fuck me, please.”

“You have to tell us, beautiful,” Jihoon’s fingers laced through your other hand, kissing the back of it, “What wouldn’t–or couldn’t–he do?”

“...eat me. He couldn’t eat me.”

Wonwoo grinned, “I’ve got that covered.”

You felt him kiss down your stomach, the pads of his fingers pressed into your flesh. His hands began to part your divide, lips tickling your inner thighs. You felt teeth, followed by relieved sighs as his fingers delicately brushed on your raw heat. “Of course, he couldn’t handle you. He wouldn’t know such a pretty pussy if it slapped him across the face.”

His lips gradually moved to the center, wrapping his lips around your entry as his eyes stared back at you like a deep void sucking you into its endless pit. His tongue licked your walls, earning a soft jump from you as Soonyoung and Jihoon help you down by your arms. A moan escapes your closed lips, your teeth driven into your bottom lip in anguish.

“She likes it,” Soonyoung commented amusedly.

“Well, I’m sure anything is better than that asshole…But Wonwoo doing it for you? His mouth feels good on your wet, needy pussy?”

Salvia caught in your throat, you fused into the sheets, “Fuck yes.”

Wonwoo chuckled against your skin before he faced you deeper, burning himself in your arousal until he was sure he’d drown in it. You were like honey on his tongue, rich and pure. Eating you out gave him all and more pleasure than a thousand hand jobs by a thousand of hands. You were pure ecstasy that had been forbidden from the very moment he laid his eyes on you.

The only reason why he stayed friends with your ex for so long was his inner circle, including you. He endured every trash talk, every shit game, every extra hour session to improve Hae’s shitty hand coordination. It was worth it, at least now it was.

“He must be having a full course down there, you sound amazing,” Soonyoung whispered in your ear, hand fondling one breast, while Jihoon had the other. His lips were eating at your pebbled skin.

Your high only rose taller, your body tenser, and you can feel your skin swell up in heat as you clenched around Wonwoo’s tongue. Your climax gushed out of you like tree sap, coating his mouth in your warmth, dripping down from his lips to chin. He tasted what he only dreamt of, ecstasy and clouds. Only filthy.

He reached up to land your taste in your mouth. “How is it? Delicious, aren’t ya?”

“My turn,” Jihoon claimed your lips a second after, envy stemming from his lips as he tasted you himself. His stomach coiled over the filth in your mouth, pouring the thought of ruining you in his head. His cock throbbed at the image of being choked from your sopping cunt that he could only imagine felt good as it tasted. “I’ll get condoms.”

“Don’t.” You stopped, staring back into the man’s eyes in pleas. “I want to feel you, please.”

“Us? All of us?” Jihoon asked to confirm.

You gave him a definite nod, “I’m clean…and I’ve never let him touch me raw ever.”

“Are you sure, princess?” Wonwoo now asked, painfully aware of the offer hot on his fingertips.

“I-I trust you. Please…”

They briefed in quiet thought before agreeing, surrounding you at all sides. You reached up for Wonwoo, pulling him back on you with his cock thick and hard between his legs. Your hand went to claim him in your grip, stroking him from base to tip, the bulging veins up his shaft tingling at your fingertips.

“Careful there,” he cautioned, grinning, “you’ll make me get too excited.”

“That’s what I want,” you mused.

“Looks like Y/n is a little tease,” Soonyoung chuckled. “Let’s see if you can take what you dish.”

Jihoon came to your side before laying a hand on your pussy, lathering your moisture between his fingers and stretching open your folds. The curve of Wonwoo’s cock stood perfectly aligned at your entrance, wetting the head with a delectable sheen. He pushed himself in, savoring the safe haven that was your walls. It was the perfect stretch to his girth and he groaned at the plush felt, practically melting all around him. “Shit…”

“Look how good that pussy takes his cock, Hoon,” Soonyoung spoke, jaw dropped.

“Such a good little pussy,” Jihoon agreed, rubbing your clit, teeth tugging against your earlobe, “You’re gonna make me cum with how mouthwatering you look.”

You buried your grip in the sheets, head throwing as the plunge of Wonwoo’s cock, and you barely made out your request. “P-Phone…”

“Why do you need your phone,” Soonyoung asked in interest.

“S-snap…Hae…”

They were all shocked at first at your request, but pulled up the Snapchat app on the phone anyway, waiting to give you a signal to record. You then added on to the request, “Soon—Mmh—say some n-nice things before sending it t-to him…”

He turned a cheeky grin before pressing record. Wonwoo thrust in you deep, groaned louder, fucked you faster, and naturally spilled obscenities from your lips that ‘putting on a show’ wouldn’t be necessary. His hands roughly pulled your hips to him, as if to use you, bending you to his will, and fuck, did it feel good.

“You see this shit?” Soonyoung mocked. “That’s what fucking sounds like, you moron. Probably never heard her make those sounds before, have you? Funny enough, she likes raw cock, just not yours.”

You let out a guttural moan as Jihoon played with your tits. His teeth scratched up against your breast before biting, sucking, and moaning. You whispered in his ear something only he could hear it’s not long before he does as you asked, dangling his cock in front of you with bent knees. You grasped his shaft, tugging on his skin before fitting him in your mouth, pushing through your soft gags, and taking him deep in your mouth.

Jihoon sounded satisfied just as he looked. He put his hands in your hair before bobbing your head against him, his cock deep-throating you until you’re forced to breathe through your nose. He felt full and thick inside you, itching down the depths of your throat.

Soonyoung pulled the phone closer to you, just hornier watching you at work while he was at work. “Look. At. That. She’s taking his cock so fucking good. What a good girl. So fucking pretty–You’re such a stupid bitch, Hae. I hope you know that by now you never deserved her.”

Soonyoung’s thumb comes into the frame to wipe the overwhelmed tears in your eyes, while your delicious moans were muffled by Jihoon. “His cock taste good, baby?”

You nodded, whimpering as Jihoon tugged you harder, forcing your eyes on him.

“Better than Hae’s?” Jihoon thought to ask, to which you nodded again, only more gingerly as you caressed his bare abdomen.

“Yeah, because Hae’s a little bitch,” Soonyoung egged. “You’ve got to be incredibly stupid to fucking lose someone like this. Well, bye now. Gotta get back to fucking your hot girlfriend–excuse me.” He turned the camera back on himself, visibly stroking his cock—veiny and hard. “Your hot Ex-girlfriend.”

He threw a farewell middle finger before sending it to him and tossing the phone aside. He caressed your head, “How’s that?”

You nodded, a bit too distracted to give a more definite answer.

“Good, now focus on orgasming, hmm?”

You saw Soonyoung’s cock, hard and in its lonesome before tending it, still stroking Jihoon’s. You alternated between the two for a period, letting both feel the inner working of your mouth. It was until you got enthusiastic that you rubbed them against each other, lathering each other your saliva. Their collective moans drowned out other sounds in the room. Vein to vein, shaft to shaft, head to head. With your tongue in between or licking up their lengths, their cocks gilded against each other as smooth as butter.

“Fuck, why does that feel good?” Jihoon whined, still drunk enough to admit some truth.

“Admit it, Hoonie, you like me,” Soonyoung teased between his moans.

Both your hands held them together, stroking them as if they were one. You could feel them bursting with arousal. It was orgasmic to see them cross, but not as much as it was taking them both in your mouth simultaneously, stretching your lips from corner to corner. They may have not pushed far, but your lips wrapped around them so bound and tight, it was more than they could’ve asked.

“Yes, shit…Just, like that, Y/n...You’re driving me insane right now…”

“Taking our cocks so beautifully, baby…Being perfect, good slut…Mmh, spit on it…that’s it…Take us deeper, baby…so fucking good.”

Wonwoo may have amped up his pace for the camera, but he was afraid to lose it. Taking the sides of your legs, he held them up to his shoulders so he could fuck you deeper, bottoming out in you. Your moans vibrated up the two men’s cock, one more sensitive than the other, making Jihoon curse at his limited patience. “Shit…so close…”

“Oh, Y/n…shit…fuck, I’m gonna cum too.” Wonwoo shut his eyes tight, attempting to resist the best he could but for him, the tides were too strong.

Wonwoo doubled over, wailing about his impending orgasm before he released inside you, hot and inevitable. You clenched into the heat, feeling it invade the depth of your core until it meant you were full. It was too late for you to stop your own crash of arousal that followed immediately after. Meanwhile, Jihoon, not wanting to make the same mistake, pulled out of you a string of salvia routing from your swollen lips to his swollen cock. He cupped the side of your cheek, smiling a tired smile, and kissed your face as Soonyoung was still in your mouth.

Unlike his friend, you milked Soonyoung dry, carnally taking every drop of his load he squeezed out between in his deep, aching groans. Either of his hands collapse the side of your head, pushing your lips against the base before dropping it inside you. “Take it, baby, swallow my cum.” Pockets full of cum lumped the column of your throat and traveled like an assembly line as you swallowed.

“Y/n…oh my god, like that…every drop….”

Eventually, positions shifted. Your lips connected back with Jihoon, while Soonyoung covered your backside, eating your pussy like it was the best thing in the fucking world. “Your pussy is the best thing in the fucking world.” He really spoke his mind.

Soonyoung proved himself to be a messy eater, tongue fucking you sideways, while the remainder of Wonwoo’s cum and yours slid all over his mouth. He felt it dribble down his chin, down his neck, even his chest. He was so turned on by such a filthy feast, it made him easy to find his cock. Thrusting and fisting himself, he edged his patience with quick brief intervals, stopping abruptly as soon as he felt close.

Jihoon smiled against your lips as he clashed with your tongue, fighting for your attention with his hands through your hair. “He feel good, hmm? I’m about to make you feel better. Come here.”

You did as he ask, Soonyoung’s lips following after, until the head of Jihoon’s cock prodded at your entrance, wet with teasing. Your whines, barely audible in the kiss, soon melted like milk chocolate, and Jihoon’s cock eased inside you just as easily as it eased out. He thrusted in you at an achingly slow rhythm, while Soonyoung’s eyes followed the motion like memorizing a dance.

“I wish you could see from this angle how she’s taking it.” He spread your cheeks apart, and the gap of your warmth fluttered at the draft the second Jihoon pulled out. “You look fucking delicious, Y/n.”

Soonyoung gave you both a subtle signal before whipping his cock, angry and red at being left out. He steadied your body, Jihoon’s cock insistent on being inside, but that was no problem. Soonyoung teased your preoccupied hole, lubing himself with the pre-made mess, and eased himself in. He now felt what he could only describe as solid euphoria, breath-stealing and innate perfection.

Your molten walls melted around their cocks, and their deep, merciless plunges fill the every crevice of your body, as your back came in a perfect arch. Moans stayed stuck in your throat, trembling in a pleasurable ache. You lost yourself in the fullness you felt letting them fuck you and use you like the toy you’ve become. “F-fuck yes…more please…don’t stop…”

Jihoon moaned after you, lips puckering in pleasure. His head dipped back in the sheets, feeling like he was having sex for the first time all over again. A new, foreign feeling that makes him feel like seconds away from cumming. In soft whispers, he begged for it slow, swallowing his whimpers but showing weakness obvious weakness. It made you absolutely insane. You were the one taking two dicks in you but Jihoon made it feel as if you had to worry about him. You tenderly caressed his cheeks in solace, reassuring him the way you could that you’d take care of him.

Out of your peripheral view, you hadn't noticed Wonwoo until he started talking with his phone in hand. He approached the space above your head, recording the lewd view as his cock was came to your eye level. He tilted your chin up with his middle and index to meet his face, unadulterated dark lust oozing out of his eyes. “So pretty already taking two cocks. They fucking your pussy good?”

“Yes, so good…” you answered, taking every pounding.

“You know what I want, right?”

Your hands were already in his shaft, feeling how hard even after already came. “Yes.”

His hand brushed the top of your head, tugging it back so your eyes stared back into the camera lens. A corner of his lisp quirked up, slowly in a sinfully dark voice he commanded, “Take my cock, Princess.”

Soonyoung held you up from your side, while Jihoon reunited with your tits. Slowly but surely, you leaned in to welcome the head of his cock on your tongue, licking through the slit. In a lewd manner, your eyes drift in a dream-like expression. Your tongue trailing down his length before spitting against the shaft and coating your lips in a glossy sheen.

“You really don’t get it, do you, Hae,” Wonwoo watched you through the screen, resisting the urge to not just completely fuck your mouth senseless at the moment, “Y/n was yours once, but she’s ours now. The difference is, we use our cocks right and put them in all the right places. You, however, will never know,” Wonwoo single-handedly wrapped your hair around his fingers in a makeshift ponytail, “what it’s like to be inside her again. We won’t let you.” from his grip, he pushed your head down to deep throat him, plugging the gap in which you’d normally breathe through.

Your eyes shut, tears burn down your cheek like liquid fire as you’re swirling your tongue around him before he pulled himself out, cussing under his breath. He zoomed in on your eyes, dazed and perfectly fucked, before sticking a thumb in your mouth, releasing a gleeful giggle. You looked like a new person entirely. Unrecognizable. Reborn.

“Did you like that, princess?”

You let out a low purr, “Yes, Wonwoo…more please...”

He sent the video before tossing his phone away and finishing what he started. His cock made himself home in your mouth once again, now savoring the sensation. Wonwoo doesn’t hold himself back now, fucking your mouth despite any physical resistance your mouth may make. It made you feel alive, useful, and last but most important, wanted.

“You look so beautiful, Princess…yes, take our cocks. You’re doing a beautiful job.”

Their praises spoke to you like prayer, descending upon you like a light while committing sin. “Cum, on my cock, Y/n. I can take it,” Jihoon insisted, trembling under your touch. Soonyoung nodded in agreement, legs faltering as expected from going at you for as long as he could. Wonwoo was even starting to look like he’d give in. Bodies covered in a layer of sweat and sex. You were grateful to be gifted another climax, shuddering on top of the begging man while you managed through with limited oxygen.

Orgasm after orgasm, they put you to ruin, and yet you never felt more on air. It felt like it went on forever, but everyone moved with urgency. In the end, they pour their cum into you like it was your purpose, every hole of yours practically leaking with ivory honey. You collapsed on the body beneath you, his tone arms held you in place. He kissed you where Wonwoo left another mess of his and made love against your mouth, and not a thought of anything else.

They stayed the night as planned. Your bodies, now cleaned after a long, thorough shower, cradled against each other in your borrowed clothes. You fit together like pieces to a full picture, not one without the other. You worried about the aftermath the next day, awaiting the utter chaos that could follow, but realized it was your own imagination worrying you because things went as normal.

Smiles on their faces, tender and welcoming eyes, only at this point it made you warm all over, memories of last night flooding your brain.

The only difference was the hundreds of messages flooding your inbox from your ex, and the now deeply intimate connection you’ve made with a group that you only saw as friends. The same deep connection that had you cumming again that same morning.

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tojisun · 1 year

Text

‘til you found me

jake sully x metkayina!reader

!! follows atwow but also not canon-compliant; reader’s origins are not mentioned; fluff; jake calls reader baby girl 😔🤞🏼(i was projecting too hard); 1.7k words

: i watched atwow four times now oh my god im losing my mind bros, this is genuinely just to project my yearning – just jake taking reader for a ride on his ikran; the fic is not as polished but god it means sm to me so i hope you guys would love it too <33; psa - im still new to the lore n fandom so if i butchered the canonverse, pls do forgive me babes; title from lost at sea - lana

jake’sully tilts his head to the side, his lips tugging up in a smirk. your eyes flash to his fangs for a quick second, their perfect sharpness making your lungs constrict to the point that your lips almost parted to let out a gasp.

you look away just as fast, finding his hazel eyes again but jake’sully’s smirk has grown.

he has seen the way you looked at him.

“so? what’d you say i take you f’r a ride, baby girl?” he finally asks, his voice a rich baritone. his na’vi is still accented with his earthen dialect and there are times that your ears strain to try to understand what he is saying but right now, you know you would not like anything else.

“i’m not a babe,” you murmur, your tail whipping in agitation, reflecting the turbulence in your heart.

you know you sound petulant – just like a babe, you think to yourself – but there is a part of you that wants to prove to jake’sully that even without warrior’s blood coursing through your veins, there is still more to you than an inkling similarity to that of an unknowing infant. after all, eywa smiles upon you too.

jake’sully’s eyes crease, his smirk tilting a little and you see flash of apprehension in his eyes – hazel like the roots of marui – before he huffs, a sound that is quiet but fond.

“‘s not what i meant, kid,” he replies, his hands reaching to tangle with yours. you blink at the touch, watching the earthen fingers weaving with yours, still unused to the difference but not bothered by it at the same time.

“i just,” he continues when you do not reply. his voice strains like he is nervous, and you almost smile at the idea that the toruk makto is nervous because of you. “y’r just precious to me, ‘s all.”

you sniff, trying to quash the burning of your cheeks, afraid that he would see the flush racing from the tips of your ears to the centre of your nose. you turn away from him, looking at his ikran.

it is bigger than an ilu, the only ride you can mount, and it looks even more daunting than a tsurak. perhaps it is because a tsurak is still of the waters but an ikran is something so foreign; it is a beast that governs the sky – a prey and, occasionally, an ally of the toruk. there is no reason for a metkayina weaver to mount such creature.

yet here jake’sully is, coaxing you on its back.

perhaps all the breathing exercises have finally got to him.

he laughs when you murmur this to him, his head falling back as explosive laughter booms from his lips. his beautiful lips.

“precious one, indeed.” his eyes are crinkling in delight again and you have truly never seen anything as breathtaking.

there is so much of the forest in jake’sully. it is not only his arms or his tail that portray this, but it is the way he walks: the sureness in his stride like there is no other purpose for his feet other than walking. moving.

it is in the way he hunts: how he is poised on a higher ground, even when mounting his tsurak, listening to his surroundings, before going for the kill. he does not use nets, just his spear or his dagger, and yet he always seemed to claim the biggest fish in the reef.

it is in the way he talks: his words clipped and short, barked out orders that would have been insignificant when in water. he talks like he is afraid that his voice would be lost amidst the chirps of the birds or the rustles of the leaves instead of resonating amongst the people.

it is in the way he uses his hands: closed palms instead of flatly opened, the way it normally is in your clan. all he has known is how to grab and how to yank, but he is learning how to wade. and he is so good at it.

jake’sully is alien even without his demon blood. and yet you cannot help but gravitate towards him, always responding to his call with your own, letting yourself be part of his family.

(“she would have fought you,” jake’sully whispered one evening, his bigger body submerged in the waters, his head resting between your thighs as you worked on his hair and braided them into neat strands.

i know, you wanted to say. she would’ve won the fight before i could even move.

i know, you wanted to say. and maybe then you wouldn’t look at me.

there are so much you wanted to say but you remained silent, letting the gliding waters fill the silence between you, your trembling fingers working slowly to finish the braids.)

“i think i would like to ride him, if that is okay with you, jake’sully?” you tell him, tugging at his hand as you spoke.

“just ‘jake’, baby girl,” he replies as he smiles again. “and of course. i promise you: y’would love the sky.”

you nod, not knowing what is the right thing to say as you mull over his name, earthen by origin but something that is so fitting for the forest warrior.

jake lets go of your hand to pull at his braid and make tsaheylu with his ikran. you watch from your peripheral, making sure that you would not look at the ikran’s eyes. your ears flick as it makes clicking sounds in response to their formed connection before you hear jake replying to it with soft whispers, his voice curling into something that is gentle.

you smile to yourself, feeling warmth exploding in your belly at hearing this side of jake. you are sure that there are only few of your clan’s people who know of jake’s gentleness – they are still too used to only seeing him as his history. the man that he was in the past.

but you understand why.

he may not be olo'eyktan in awa'atlu with the metkayina, but that is not something that just goes away because of formalities. jake commandeers respect even amongst your people, his words and his actions garner awe and produce inspiration.

he is also good to the eyes.

you remember the women in your clan giggling to themselves, envisioning how it’d be like to be with the toruk makto, and fanning themselves when the topic became too sensual. too physical. their voices always petered out into wistful sighs, unable to contain their desires even when jake had been dubbed demon-blood by the tsahik.

it is not like you can fault them, not when you had been one of the many admirers of jake. you just didn’t expect the toruk makto, the former olo'eyktan of omotikaya and the warrior that led the clans to victory against the sky people, to give you his attention.

“come, baby girl,” jake says, yipping to catch your attention. you blink your eyes at him, turning, before you startle at seeing his ikran looking at you, its head tilted to the side – a perfect mirror of jake’s mannerism. “ride with me.”

he offers you his hand and you have barely twined your fingers with his before he is pulling you up, your body going weightless at the sheer strength of toruk makto’s.

you squeak, startling, and jake laughs at your reaction. even his ikran clicks in a tone that resembles laughter and you feel so embarrassed as you press your face onto jake’s back. his skin meets your soft cheeks and the contact has your breath hitching.

jake has always been tactile with you but there is something new today. perhaps it is the whistling winds or the weight of his hand on your thighs, keeping you from slipping off the ikran from where you are sat behind him. whatever it was, you are sure you heard jake’s stuttered breath.

it seems like you aren’t the only one overthinking everything or who is hyperaware of the contact. you smile, knowng that jake can feel your upturned lips from where they are pressed flush on his skin.

jake murmurs something too faint for you to hear before he clicks and the ikran soars.

oh great mother, you think as the wind whirls past you, your braids pushing away from your body as the ikran flies. jake laughs, so joyful that you feel your stomach twisting, coaxing you to stop shrieking and to look up from where you are still pressed on his back.

you want to snap at him and tell him to shut up but you know he is only being nice, after all, jake just wants to show you how the world looks from the sky. so you control your breathing, calming your heart, before you pull away from jake’s body and tilted your head down.

oh how beautiful it is.

the waters stretch further than you expected, their colours changing to signify their depth. you notice the way the lush corals of the reef and the scattering in the thin forest of the island is shining, their lights flickering and dancing with life.

you are so overwhelmed by what you are seeing that you don’t even know you are crying, a sob creeping past your lips. jake startles, not having expected a visceral reaction from you, and you feel him change course, surely finding a place to land his ikran.

this tenderness of his brings more tears to spill from your eyes, your heart weighing in your chest so heavily that you are sure you will explode with it. you push your face on jake’s back again, your arms tightening around his waist, before you press a kiss on his skin.

“i see you, jake,” you say, unsure if your voice would carry to him even amidst the whipping wind.

you feel jake’s hand tighten around your thigh and that is all the confirmation you need.

then, “i see you, baby girl.”

@whats-belay, thank you for letting me use u as a soundboard throughout the four times ive watched atwow! hope you would love this, especially since it’s more coherent than my keyboard smash

#suns.f #jake sully x reader #jake sully x na'vi reader #jake sully x you #jake sully x y/n #jake sully fluff #jake sully fic #jake sully #avatar the way of water #atwow x you #suns #ONE FIC DOWN THE SEVEN OTHER FIC IDEAS TO GO #im so enamoured by this movie i need it injected in my bloodstream

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hanasnx · 1 year

Note

Okay okay I was the anon who suggested the prompt about y/n being jealous and I absolutely adore what you did with it!! So I’ve been think about ✨angry/makeup✨ sex with Anakin, yeah? Because I think it would be so intense and delicious. Like imagine you being pissed off about him not being careful when out in the field or maybe he’d think you weren’t being careful enough when out and about during these clone wars time or whatever. I just imagine all this pent up frustration and longing and love for one another. Like imagine his groan when you’d tuck on his hair, urging him closer and his metal hands gripping your jaw, his eyebrows knitted and eyes dark looking at you, taking you in. The insults might be genuine at first - frustration and fear of each la safety…. but slowly they’d be come more playful, egging each other on, both loving the intensity, desperation and roughness 😁 and the tender kiss you’d share afterwards, two bodies out of breath, tangled together anywayss

hellow welcome back always a pleasure to see u anon <3

i love angry sex and makeup sex so much omfg i loved reading what you wrote 💕

☥ like on one hand youve got the hate and roughness in angry sex. fighting each other, throwing each other around.

the “what did you just say?”

and the “you heard me!”

yanking on each others hair and fucking faces. sitting on his face and pinning him there so he glares up at you, pulling you flush against him as if to suffocate himself, intent on edging you til your head spins.

getting you to shut up by shoving his cock down your throat, in control of your movements with his strong hand at the back of your head. so deep the tip of your nose brushes his abdomen.

practically wrestling trying to top the other person. at one point he’s able to slip his cock into you and nail you to whatever surface closest. hand gripping the nape of your neck to keep you fixed in place as he fucks you as hard. and you talk shit like “is that really the best you can do?” because you want it to hurt.

☥ and then youve got the smugness of makeup sex. the “i’m angry at you but i still want to fuck you but i don’t want you to have the satisfaction of knowing that.”

☥ youre laying in bed on your holo tablet, trying to drown out the sound of rushing blood past your ears because youre still so ! worked up over what anakin dared say to you. you should whip him for that kind of disrespect.

he comes over to your side of the bed, and you look up at him.

“what do you want?”

he’s in his lounge attire. shirtless, thin black pants. the sight of his bare chest burning into your mind despite your flaring anger.

“you still mad at me?”

“yes.” you go back to your holo pad.

his hand envelopes yours, taking it from you, and you eye him again as he places it for you. palming his hardening length in his pants with it. instinctually, you start massaging, feeling up his balls and shaft as a familiar inkling of arousal bubbles up in between your legs.

“yeah?” he asks, feigned sympathy, a wolfish grin tugging at his lips knowing you’re not mad enough to jerk your hand away.

that worsens your mood, “obviously. asshole.” to convince him, and yourself, you hastily add that insult. your legs fall open, and his fingers find their home there, petting your wettening center and clit as he holds your sultry gaze.

“i want you, baby, and i’m gonna have you. even if my baby’s mad at me.”

it’s a relief to hear, so you don’t have to admit to him how much you want him back.

☥ scratching marks into his back, him biting on your shoulder as he enters you, talking shit like “must be a little whore to let me fuck you after how i talked to you earlier. you like being called a cunt, huh?”

your fist bangs against his shoulder blade and he laughs. sucks on your earlobe before re-angling his hips to make you cry out from the way he fills you.

☥ and it eventually becomes a form of his worship. kissing all over you, stopping mid dick-fuck so he can eat you out and finger you at the same time. hold your gaze while he does it so you know hes sorry, that he wants to please you. sucking on your clit as his metal fingers enter you and curl just the way you like. make you a cum too many times, making false promises, “one more for me, angel, one more, c’mon, you can do it… atta girl, oh yeah, baby, just how i like it.” and uses your own cum as lubrication as he lifts your hips to meet his thrusts, chasing his own high using your body.

sucking on your lips and tongue. biting red marks into your neck. this session would be entirely on making it up to you for his behavior earlier. he’d get payback for your temper tantrum later.

#🦑anon #thanks for the msg!!#indy shoots the shit #anakin #anakin skywalker x reader #reader insert #anakin skywalker smut #x f!reader #anakin skywalker imagine

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aemonds-little-belle · 1 year

Text

FEELINGS SOLD SEPARATLY

CHAPTER ELEVEN (THE EYLA THEORY)

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

NOTES - I missed Eyla so much that I gave her an entire chapter, she's the real MVP though. (Also the dom/sub subplot just got a whole lot more main story <3

TAGS - (REPOSTED FROM AO3)

Alternate Universe - Sugar DaddySugar BabySugar Baby AUAUokay this is a whole ass story that's just one long ass brain fartliterally i am just coming up with this on the spotlow key really love it thoughSugar Baby/Sugar Daddyobviouslytalks of class issuesaemonds been hurt in the pasti think there will be some sexy stuff eventuallywait fuck i didn't mention this is a modern!aumodern!AUAlternate Universe - Modern Setting<3Aemond "One-Eye" Targaryen is Bad at Feelingsstop that was recommended but so accurateI don't know how to do tagsI'm SorryI promise it's goodAnd no one diesand it's just so classically a sugar baby/ sugar daddy au it hurtsreader works at a cafe ... obviouslythis will follow a similar storyline to the show just modern and also not at allFamily Issueswait probably dom/sub vibes tooDom/subLight Dom/subclearly i don't know where this is going yetmy readers are always written fat because i am fatso keep that in mindSlow Burnit's so slowbut I think it's greatlike genuinely two idiots in lovebut they take soooo long to noticeUghI love fanfiction

+ + + + + +

“Y/n!” Eyla yelled, already at the counter, wiping it down before the shop opened. “Hurry up!”

“We aren’t even open yet!” Y/n chuckled, placing her things in her locker before putting the fake, and unlockable, lock onto it.

“I know.” She laughed back. “But I’m dying to know how your weekend went with Mr. Fancy Pants!” Her eyes were pleading, a fake pout on her lips.

“Eyla I don’t even know where to begin.” Y/n pouted back. “After work on Friday he took me to a small Breakfast diner for dinner, and we talked about what the arrangement would look like.” Y/n put on her apron and began turning the coffee machines on, ensuring each was working fine as Eyla stood leaned against the counter, completely engaged in the conversation. “And then he wouldn’t let me take the bus home! And now I can’t take the bus at all.”

“He’s making you walk home? If that asshole wants you to do cardio or something you …”

“No!” Y/n cut her off. “He’s paying for cabs, he doesn’t like me walking home, especially now when it gets dark before we get off.” She explained, looking to Eyla who was nodding her head. “Um, on saturday we went shopping.”

“Oh I love shopping!” Eyla sang.

“I know.” Y/n laughed.

“What did he get you? Anything expensive?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

“Um, he got me these new shoes.” Y/n did a little dance move to show her new all black sneakers off, getting a few ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ back from Eyla. “And then enough jeans and T-shirts to last me years. Plus he bought me a dress, or is buying me, I don’t know, I don’t even know what it looks like.” Y/n began rambling. “It’s for Wednesday, for this work event that he has.”

“You’re getting a fancy dress for a fancy party and you don’t seem excited, what could possibly be wrong?” Eyla raised an eyebrow at Y/n.

“Nothing’s wrong!” Y/n defended herself. “I just, it’s a custom dress, and that’s a lot of money, so I’m just worried about it.”

“A custom dress? He’s head over heels for you!” Eyla exclaimed, bouncing on her heels slightly.

“Maybe.” Y/n’s face heated up at the idea, could Aemond really like her? Or were they just a little flirty because of their arrangement? “He’s given me some inkling he might like me, but I really don’t know, what if that’s just regular Sugar da… behavior.”

“Lay these inklings on me.” Eyla leaned against the counter, her arms crossed, eyes to the floor, clearly ready to contemplate something big.

“Um, well we held hands on saturday.”

“Mhm, mhm.” Eyla’s eyes squinted slightly.

“Um, when we were shopping there was this girl from his past, she listed all of these places Aemond took his past sugar babies and specific gifts he bought all of them. But he never took me to a fancy restaurant, he took me to his favorite diner, and hasn’t given me a stupid gold bracelet, or I don’t know! But that’s gotta count for something right?” Y/n was begging at this point, hoping maybe, just maybe Aemond could actually like her.

“So he’s taking you places he would take his girlfriend, not his sugar baby?” Eyla asked, crossing her legs now too.

“I guess.” Y/n sighed, Eyla nodding. “He also almost beat up my landlord because he turned my power off.” Y/n shrugged her shoulders as if what she had said was nothing.

“Almost?” Eyla scoffed. “He should have actually beat him up, gods know the man deserves it.”

“That’s what Miss Falker said.” Y/n chuckled. “I would let Miss Falker guide me through life if I could, the woman is always right, so wise.” Eyla joked.

“She also can’t see and has no idea Aemond is a real Targaryen.” Y/n chuckled as she walked to the front of the shop, unlocking the door and turning the closed sign to open.

“Miss Falker, the true Queen of Flea Bottom.”

“Anyways.” Y/n started up again. “Maybe I could look past those things, but yesterday …”

“Large coffee, two sugars and a cream please.” A man interrupted them, his eyes glued to his phone, Eyla rolling her eyes as she began the man's drink, Y/n ringing the man up.

“But yesterday?” Eyla asked, placing the lid on the man's cup.

“Yesterday we made rules, like sugar baby rules, for me to follow.”

“Ohh, kinky!” Eyla cheered, the man totally unbothered as he walked out.

“No!” Y/n shook her head. “They aren’t like that at all, but we made them together, and I had no idea what I was doing.”

“Well obviously, Y/n you don’t even look like a remotely kinky girl …”

“I will not share the tips I make while you’re on break if you keep this up.” Y/n threatened, though it was completely a lie and Eyla knew it, but she raised her hands up innocently anyways. “I asked what his rules for his other sugar babies were, as like a reference that I could work off of.”

“Makes sense.” Eyla said, retying her apron for the fourth time this morning, as if she didn’t just put it on.

“Well he said no, and refused to show them to me, so I think he’s not even trying to treat me like past sugar babies.”

“What were some of your rules? Any unusually caring ones?”

“Not really.” Y/n shrugged her shoulders. “Again, I don’t know how these things work, but he said the rules were meant to help me break bad habits, and guide me.” Y/n paused to help a customer before turning to Eyla again. “Which makes sense, he wants me to rely on him, let him help me in any way he can, which is how I’m different from the past girls.” Y/n rambled. “They just wanted someone with money to buy them pretty things, but with me he spends his money improving my life for the better.”

“This makes so much more sense.” Eyla nodded her head as she poured coffee into a cup, stirring in some sugar as she looked Y/n up and down. “He's a dominant.”

“A what?”

“You know?” Eyla asked, Y/n just staring back at her confused. “Oh my god! I thought you said you read books?”

“I do!”

“Clearly not the same kind I read.” Eyla chuckled. “A dominant is someone who you know, wants to dominate someone in bed, tell them what to do, when to do it, how to do it, etcetera.”

“But me and Aemond aren’t in bed.” Y/n tilted her head to the side slightly.

“No, but he does seem to tell you what to do in real life, like how he wants you to take a cab and not ride the bus, that’s him dominating your situation and changing things to make it better for you.” Eyla explained as if they weren't helping at least ten customers who were just standing around them, easily in earshot.

“So if he is … What you say he is, what does that make me?” Y/n asked worriedly, hoping the answer wasn’t something horrible.

“A submissive!” Eyla explained, completely enjoying the little teaching lesson she was giving. “You submit your control to him, let him make the decisions.” Eyla began a new pot of coffee, retying her apron again, something Y/n definitely thought was an anxious habit. “Submissives also want to please the dominant, and often if the submissive does well at following the rules there’s a reward.”

“And a punishment if they don’t” Y/n whispered, things clicking in her head.

“Yep, though I don’t think Aemond would spank you too hard.” Eyla winked.

“Wouldn’t what?!?” Y/n’s eyes were wide as saucers, Eyla just cackling in the corner as she poured more coffee.

“I don’t know what a non sexual dominant would do, but I’m sure there’s something.” Eyla laughed. “Maybe he’ll make you shine his shoes!”

“No. He’d take money off of a charity fund if I broke a rule.”

“Are you telling me he already has a punishment plan?” Eyla was now the one with eyes wide as saucers, her eyebrows raised as her mouth hung open.

“Mhm.” Y/n nodded her head.

“Has he ever given you a talking to? With a teachery voice, like hes grading your paper and you did terribly.” Y/n just looked at Eyla with shock, thinking ‘how did you know about that?’ “You are living my dream life, I swear.”

“Well, what if he is a dominant? What do I do then?” Y/n’s demeanor changed, worry filling her mind.

“Do you like the rules?” Y/n nodded her head. “Do you like following them?”

“Well yeah, he said he would be disappointed if I didn’t and I want …”

“To please him?”

“Yes.” Y/n turned her back to Eyla, thinking over all of the information that had been cast onto her suddenly.

“Then I think you and Aemond might be a perfect match. He wants someone who will let him have control, let him make decisions he sees fit when it comes to improving their life.” Y/n nodded along. “And you seem to want that, but I can’t tell you if you’re a submissive or not, or if this will all work out in the end.”

“Then how do I find out if I am one or not?”

“The internet, the shop has wifi, when you go on break you should totally do a test or something.”

“Okay, sure.” Y/n nodded her head, ringing in another customer. “What if he isn’t even a dominant and I’m doing all of this for nothing?”

“He gave you rules and a punishment, Y/n.” Eyla deadpanned. “He’s a dominant.”

Y/n just nodded her head, fixing the straw holder before looking back to Eyla. “Wait, what kind of books do you read?”

#prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #sugar daddy!aemond targaryen #sb/sd!au #sugar baby!au #hotd aemond #hotd #house of the dragon #modern au #modern!aemond x reader #modern!aemond targaryen

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offbeatcappuccino · 1 year

Text

the art of contract relationships ~ an excessive rambling about romance and an alchemy of souls part 2 reflection

Being an Indian, I'm no stranger to arranged marriages with almost everyone in my family including my own parents being in one. Though as someone who aspires to be "unconventional" and likes to stir up shit to unsettle my familial homeostasis on a daily basis and therefore would never be in an arranged marriage, I find the idea of them quite fascinating because of not only how terribly convenient they are since you have to do very little to woo your significant other, but there's something quite fruitful when it comes to plotting the arc of an arranged/contract marriage. There's this wonderful cognitive dissonance that arises when two people, who are practically strangers and have no inkling of affection for each other , are in forced close proximity to each other and have to put on the performance of a lifetime to convince those around them that they're in love with each other until they truly end up liking each other. Watching these dramas is like watching a block of ice boil on a stove- It's a slow burn of microscopic collisions (both good and bad) between two individuals inside the confined pot of marriage that forces them to let go of the frigid impenetrable boundaries of insecurity that they've closed themselves in and instead they choose to find liberation and happiness from where they least expected it.

The "contract" relationship trope is truly the amalgamation of all romance tropes you can have a little bit of every other trope in a contract relationship plotline- enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, soulmates, opposites attract, innocent cohabitation, unrequited love, etc. Now, if you're Indian, you also probably know that there only 3 types of marriages possible in our society - arranged (parents chose), love come arranged (you chose but your parents are okay with it), and love (you chose and your parents absolutely hate you and now you're disowned). With the third, love marriages, if you're Indian, you would also know how big of a trope "elopement" is with in Indian films. There's this rush of excitement, anxiety, and pain that hits you simultaneously as you watch a young couple risk it all as they hitch-hike across the subcontinent, leaving everything they know behind in "love" or whatever.

If you combine the elopement trope with the contract/arranged/ forced proximity relationship trope, then you've just unlocked my favorite romance trope of all time- when two people, much to the chagrin and shock of everyone around them, get married/live together, but it's not because they love each other, but rather because they are dependent on each other for protection or to fulfill their respective goals. A great example of this trope in action is from the Tamil movie Ghilli and the experience of watching it in theatres is perhaps the earliest memory that I can recall. In Ghilli, a young 20 something Kabbadi player named Velu , who runs coincidentally into Dhanalakshmi, a young woman who lost her family and is currently on the run from a predatory gangster, who wants to marry her. Velu fights the gangster's henchmen and brings Dhanalakshmi to his home, where he secretly hides her in his room from his parents and younger sister. Comedy and romance ensues as Velu tries his best to keep his secret and Dhanalakshmi finds her self falling one-sidedly for Velu. As a toddler, watching Ghilli was an intoxicating experience, there was something absolutely fascinating about watching Velu and Dhanalakshmi feel so naturally at ease with one another and enjoy the mundane everyday simplicities of celebrating birthdays, stopping hiccups, and looking at baby pictures even at the face of impending doom as a state-wide search has every police officer trying to find her.

After nearly two decades, I felt the same sort of excitement and awe watching the second part of Alchemy of Souls (AoS 2) After watching the first two episodes, I genuinely felt as though the writers of the show secretly hooked up an EEG machine while I was asleep, analzyed my brain, and wrote an entire show with every possible trope out there in the romance that has me squealing, jumping, and giggling:

Soulmates from a past life (technically 3 years ago) ✅

2. Opposites attract ✅

3. Marriage of convenience ✅

4. Running away and getting married in secret ✅

5. Fake pregnancy ✅

6. Accidentally spooning because it's cold✅

7. Second chances ✅

8. Playing too hard to get only to become an absolute simp at the end ✅

9. Amnesia ✅

10. Lots of hugs, hand holding, and accidental kisses ✅

Apart from checking off almost everything in my fantasy romance bucket-list, one of the reasons why Light and Shadow works so well for me as a show is because it so blatantly ditches the idea of rationality when it comes to portraying the relationship progression between Jang Uk and Cho Yeon (known earlier in the season as Jin Bu-Yeon). If you think of other popular romance k-dramas that aired in the past few years, such as Hometown Cha Cha Cha, Business Proposal, or Run On, there's a logical development of events that push the two characters into falling for one another as they end up understanding each other better over the course of the show. Then, there's AoS 2 like Ghilli, where all of that is completely thrown out of the window.

Though the marriage of convenience between Jang Uk and Cho Yeon is set up with the premise of freedom in exchange of ice stone removal, there's this wonderful cognitive dissonance that bubbles quickly within the first two episodes. Our frontal lobe is telling us how absurd it is for Cho Yeon/Bu-Yeon to already be falling in love hopelessly with Uk when she barely knows him, and yet our amygdala can't help but empathize with her when her sincere wishes for Jang Uk to see her beyond her powers. Then there's Jang Uk, whose words never really align with his actions. Just as Jang Uk put up another barrier between himself and Cho-Yeon, we see him go out of his way to illuminate her path with fireflies when she's trying to find her way back. In the same vein that Uk leaves Cho-Yeon waiting all night for him in his room, Uk spends an entire morning searching for her everywhere in Daeho Fortress, practically worried sick about her wellbeing, until he finds her happily shopping at the marketplace.

Jin Bu Yeon: I was hoping for this. I hoped you were the one who turned off the lantern and I hoped that you would come for me despite being of no use to you.

Jang Uk: Even if I did turn it off, it would not be due to the reasons you were hoping for. You know that. So, what are you going to do? If you want, I can help you create that witness you must bring to Sejukwon by the 21st day. That is, if you give up on that futile hope of yours.

Even Jang Uk mentions that he feels like he's going insane when he's with Bu-Yeon. In Episode 7, when Uk, goes back to Jeongjinjak to find Bu-Yeon, he refers to the Jinyowon lantern that brought them together in the beginning and complains to Bu-Yeon that it's broken and it wont stop flickering on and off.

Jang Uk: I am not done yet. I told you that the lantern was flickering. Jin Bu Yeon: So what? Jang Uk: So...When it is on, I am sane. It is clear to me that I must send you back as I promised. But, I go insane when it turns off. I just pine for you. That is why I came to see you. Jin Bu Yeon: So, what about now? Jang Uk: If you are upset and want to leave, I should get a hold of myself and let you go. Jin Bu Yeon comes close and blows air like she's trying to turn off a candle Jang Uk: What was that? Jin Bu-Yeon: I turned it off

In many ways, the lantern is Jang Uk, who battles internally with his growing inclination towards Bu-Yeon and his resolve to drown himself in misery and grief until the ice stone can be finally taken out of him and he can die. There's something beautiful about how illogical their love is because it speaks to how instinctual and effortless loving each other feels because they've been destined to be with each other from the very beginning. Even when they've lost their memories and have been revived from the dead, they manage to find each other every single time. Jang Uk and Cho Yeon are magnets that can't help sticking together even at the face of impending doom, even when its clear that Bu-Yeon will take over the body permanently, as much as both try to resist, they can't help but want to spend their last moments together even if it only lasts a couple hours. Nothing about their lives feel logical and it doesn't make sense, but it doesn't matter because everything feels right when they're together.

Jang Uk to Master Lee: I did not come hoping to spend a lifetime together. I just came to stay by her side until the very last moment. That could last a month, two weeks, or even just a few days. But, I decided not to keep count. I am going to believe that we will always have tomorrow.

The depth of Jang Uk and Bu-Yeon's relationship would not have been convincing if it were not for their dialogues, but also because of the actors themselves. Both Lee Jae Wook and Go Youn Jung did wonderfully in portraying their characters and the chemistry both shared was palpable throughout the show. In previous posts, I talked about how I felt that an actor's eyes play a crucial role in their ability to express themselves in a nuanced matter and add credibility to their lines. As Light and Shadow, Go Youn Jung''s doe-like eyes and Lee Jae Wook's steely gaze both contrasted and complemented each other like their respective characters' yin and yang jade. But, it's also how their facial expressions soften and become more fluid in every scene that they're together. Bu-Yeon's cheery demeanor brightens ten fold when Jang Uk does something to make her smile, and its only in her presence do we ever see him be so genuinely happy.

Even moments of heartbreak between the two feel so real like the scene in Episode 7, where Jang Uk tells her to go back to her maternal home and that he's letting her go, there's so much pain and anger communicated through her body language. The way that her eyes widen and maintain steady contact with Uk and how a tinge of redness in her eyes progressively become larger as she holds back tears has never so thoroughly had me empathize deeply with someone who has felt abandoned.

Another favorite scene of mine that really highlights this is when Uk goes back to Jinyowon to say farewell to Bu Yeon after she leaves him saying that she regained her memories. This scene is truly a testament to how far Jang Uk has become from "playing hard to get" to being the guy who has fallen too hard. The desperation in his voice as he chokes a little before he questions the ludicrousness of Bu Yeon's sudden change in behavior before he proceeds to ramble haphazardly about how he's not letting go and he'll wait for her is *chef's kiss*.

Jang Uk: I CANNOT DO THAT! I thought about it over and over again. The reason I want you to stay was not that I was confused or crazy. I just [...] I just like you that much. I had buried my memories but you took them out and helped me face them. You held my hand when I never thought I could. You helped me sleep when I could not [...] And for that, I cannot stop anymore. So I will be the brazier on a summer day. This time, I will be the one waiting until you begin to miss me

And don't even get me started on the kissing scene they had earlier in that episode. I've watched that scene an embarrassing amount of times, but only because its so eloquently constructed from the way that it's edited perfectly to coincide with the other characters talking about how the two weren't a real couple to begin with to how lost they are in each other that they're completely oblivious to the fact that they're in a library to how flushed they both look with Lee Jae Wook's ears turning a distinctive shade of scarlet red. After the infamous "Birthday Kiss" in It's Okay to Not Be Okay, I think the AoS "Lantern Kiss" will go down as one of the best in kdrama history

I also really enjoyed the other interactions that the show featured such as the dynamics between the Crown Prince and the rest of the characters including his turtle. I also enjoyed the chemistry and fluff between Maidservant Kim and Park Jin as well. Even So-i and Seo Yul made my throat choke up a little. This show's greatest strength this season is how it doesn't shy away from emotional vulnerability and the actors and written dialogue, which become the medium through which this vulnerability is embodied are what carry the show to its finish line.

AoS 2 isn't a perfect show and its clear from how uneven the pacing of the plot is. Despite only having 10 one-hour episodes this season, the show moves at a fairly sluggish pace for the first eight episodes as it takes nearly nine episodes for Jang Uk to discover that Bu-Yeon is really Mudeok. However, what is my biggest gripe with the show is that the writers made Jang Uk too powerful, at the cost of weakening the writing. The last two episodes feature the final showdown after two seasons of tension building up between Jang Uk et al. and Jin Mu et al. Yet, the conflict resolves itself in an underwhelming manner. Jang Uk is truly unchallenged and in order for him to take down some of the most powerful Daeho mages, all he has to do is simply plant his sword firmly down the ground to completely derail their plans of burning down the world. Even when face to face with the mighty firebird, Jang Uk manages to astrally project a bow at the perfect angle to take down the bird in his first try.

At the cost of making Jang Uk powerful, the writing reduced every character to being powerless. For instance, Jin Ho Gyeong, a powerful priestess, responsible for protecting Daeho's most powerful relics, is made out to be someone, who can barely fight back when the Unanimous Assembly attempts to retrieve the Firebird. Worse than Ho Gyeong is Jin Cho Yeon, who has neither showed magical prowess nor strength, despite also have promising potential as a priestess and mage. Jin Mu, once a formidable antagonist in the first season, is reduced to mockery as he does simply nothing when Jang Uk derails his plans. It's also this lack of engaging conflict, which pushes the writers to add unnecessary bait to keep the viewers engrossed in the show. There's a lot of moments in the show, where the writers bait a major character death only to Control-Z and miraculously save the characters thanks to Jang Uk. For instance, in Episode 6, which up till then, made a cure for Seo Yul seem impossible and his death along with So-i's evident, Jang Uk enters the picture and miraculously he's able to force Ho Gyeong to disclose the cure saves his friend. In Episode 10, when Maidservant Kim, Park Jin, and Lady Jin, are all hinted at dying while attempting to protect Jinyowon, Jang Uk again comes in and reveals to everyone that he and his group of allies have managed to save them. Finally, Master Lee, who has been portrayed throughout the season as an unreliable source of foreshadowing. I think these moments hinder the show's legitimacy and the plight of the characters. It's almost like "A Boy Who Cried Wolf", where we can't truly take anything that the writers throw at us earnestly.

Despite its flaws, I would like to reiterate that before AoS, I would have not seriously ventured into the historical fantasy kdrama genre. AoS was the show that had me watching kdramas again after I personally became tired of the "melodrama" genre that dominated Spring and Summer 2022. I can't wait to see the future works that the cast gets involved in the future!

#alchemy of souls light and shadow #jin bu yeon #jang uk #jin buyeon #cho yeong #naksu #seo yul #jin mu #lee jae wook #go youn #kdrama reviews #kdrama recommendations #kdrama reaction #kdramas #master lee

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klaineownsmysoul · 2 years

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Am loving the positive reviews for D.. esp the ones saying they were surprised.. like most of his performances be it song or acting many people don't know but are genuinely surprised at his talent ( like how have they not heard of him before) which is of course what we have been screaming that he has talent in every fibre of his being if only he had the right team ( of course i also lold at the tags tagging someone distinctly not on stage 🤦🏻‍♀️ or how cute she is to support D 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷

I absolutely love when people who aren't familiar with D are pleasantly surprised when they seem him perform for the first time, be it acting or singing. It gives me a "ha, told you so" smug feeling of satisfaction. That was one of my favorite things about the ACS era: people who either never watched glee or did and thought he was nothing but "one of those damn glee kids" were always so "oh holy shit this kid can actually act" in their reviews. As someone who hung on Blaine's every move, I always knew it was there; he just needed the material to be able to show everyone else.

I'll keep saying this til I'm blue in the face: the entire vibe around D changes when its just him. Just him performing on a stage somewhere and everything is right with the world. I think we've all imagined how high he could climb if he had even an inkling of a competent team behind him. Instead he's saddled with a lazy and totally inept manager who has no interest in growing D's career past where he's been for the past 4 years while playing up the "teenage dreamboat" image concocted for him like a decade ago as he markets him to the tiktok teens who weren't around when glee was airing in the first place and have zero concept of who D actually is. The only thing he's been consistent at is pushing the straight happily married now family man facade that those kids have latched onto and believe in with a fervor that scares me sometimes. Oh wait, let's not forget he's also good at taking free vacations at places he's pimped D out to and ruining his Xmas album by completely botching the tour and seemingly feeling no remorse over it whatsoever. How and why this man still has a job is beyond me. He's got a stylist who make some head scratching choices when it comes to dressing D sometimes, most especially when she puts him in clothes 3 sizes too big so he looks extra tiny and like he's trying on an adult's clothes. She's also good at making sure to tag her once a quarter bff the little wifey in things while ignoring her actual client. What a lucky guy D is.

And like you, I too LOL'd at that post I saw of someone who felt the need to tag her in a pic of D playing. I swear my eyes are going to get stuck in my head one day from how hard I roll them at these pathetic antics. Why? Just why? Why do you feel the need to involve her in something that so clearly has nothing to do with her? What purpose does it serve to needlessly insinuate her into D's professional life? She's in the audience so that means she deserves to get tagged? There were lots of people in the audience, I didn't see you tagging all of them. All that does is point out how much of a professional life she doesn't have and how much any kind of name recognition or relevance she has is solely dependent on his career. I don't recall anyone tagging him in pics of her and shitty cover band at their once a year show, but we're always treated to pics of him wearing one of their branded t-shirts. Funny how it only seems to work one way, isn't it? And yes, it was so nice of her to take time of her busy schedule of doing nothing to come to his show and bring their baby along as a prop. I guess mom of the year didn't have time to pick up headphones for said baby to protect her little eardrums. Who brings an infant to a concert? And then promptly hands her off to what I am assuming is some sort of live-in nanny so she can go do important things like partying in her tacky awful strip bar and clutching onto her spouse in a pic with him and the guy who made her fake engagement ring and that loud awful jewelry D's loser manager has him advertise. #winning

D belongs on a stage because he truly comes alive when performing. What he doesn't deserve is the never-ending circus that surrounds him when he comes off it.

#anonymous #lather rinse repeat #same old same old

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whyamistillwatchingtheseshows · 2 years

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Am I the only one wondering how many details Vegas actually gave Porsche? So, if he said to Vegas something like “you break his heart…” then Porsche does know to some extent that this is a “matters of the heart” situation?

That’s enough for a bleeding heart like Porsche (and a Porsche who is far gone in love) to think okay fine go see him. He’s here and the rest is up to you. Granted, it looks indifferent to any kind of pain Pete is going through…it’d make sense if Porsche factors in something truly genuine from Vegas. Which is still hard to tell in any circumstance? Though, Pete came back throughly broken but Porsche probably recognizes Pete will take matters into his own hands, if it came to it, because Pete is now back with his weapons, he’s armed. However, Porsche doesn’t really know how deep this has gone?

I want to be like oh it’s such a bad idea to let Pete anywhere near Vegas or the other way around I should say, but a part of me wants to be like maybe Pete had a thought, just an inkling, about how much easier it’d be if Vegas just came to him? As much as he’d fight against that….and a part of me also wants to be like ooh it’s about time Porsche gets angry over this game with his parents’ death? Like yeah play the game baby, it’s about time. Sure would’ve been a hell of a lot easier to just confront Korn over the soup? Just saying, but why not draw out the plan…get evidence I suppose? The only way I say it’s easier is because Kinn would shoot Chan on sight if anything got to that point over the soup, but do I think he’d hesitate at Dad, yes…briefly because ironically, Kinn has been acting as a bodyguard too (for awhile now). Then over soup it’d be like a what the hell just happened? Ironically, Porsche would probably stop him for shooting his Dad, saying something about i want information from mister I’m lying through my teeth. Anyway, that’s not what happens…

Keep thinking that Porsche’s game plan should end with that murder tango dismantling the system Korn and Kan have between the family. It should end the divide, completely deviating from a minor detail and you know what I’m talking about. But yes, deviates from that so an unrelated Porsche (with Vegas now on their side) helps dismantle the divide. Though, somehow “the divide” is kept, so there is still a major and minor family house which aim to work out different criminal things? But Kinn and Vegas are not against each other…thus, technically Pete still chooses the minor family….so in a sense, the Queens get to live with Kings…?

Don’t mind me, this is just rambling and wondering what they could possibly have in the final episode. Personally, as someone had said, “I don’t want it wrapped in a neat bow…” how can they? Can they? And that’s just not us saying we don’t want it to end, okay it’s part of it but really, how does this get neatly wrapped in a bow that comes with a firm no cliffhanger ending?

#vegaspete #kinnporsche #ps still not sure s2 is actually a thing…?

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reginarubie · 2 years

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I like your brutally honest thoughts on ship. Reading your thoughts I wanted to say something. You can disagree with this. I felt show Sansaery wrong in other ways. Sansa(14) and Sophie(16 I guess) were minor in s3. Marg might be 18-20 while Natalie was in her early 20s something. It was clear that Marg was manipulating Sansa more in lines with Olenna but she also was fond of her. Her line about Sansa could enjoy Tyrion in bed feels wrong to me even she said in good intention. Sansa was seen naive in the whole situation. Basically reminding me of how Cersei told her periods, babies and bedding. Then later Marg was shown to seducing Tommen with sex was icky to me. Many started shipping Sansaery because of the show. I feel it will have some grooming aspects considering Sansa age if they go along with it. Sorry for this long rant. I hope I don't sound rude. It's just I wanted to share opinion.

Ciao anon!,

First of all thank you! I am happy you like my brutally honest opinions!

post being referenced to, this one. In which I explained why I think Sansaery works only outside of canon, and not inside of it. It's true that most have started to ship them because of the show, tho, as I've said Sansa's book quote of “Margaery's kindness had been unfailing and her presence had changed everything” it's pretty potent one, but it also showers light over the fact that it's all a manipulation on Margaery's part for however fond of Sansa she may have grown, because Sansa had been treated like a social pariah after Ned's execution, and she is finally able to spend time outside of the Red Keep thanks to Margaery as well as being welcomed in a circle of girls around her age...

...even though even that is soured by her “they have no interest to know me” vibe, which is right, as it is all part of Margaery plan to give Sansa what she had lacked since she had been alone, an hostage in KL after Ned's execution.

Margaery's manipulation is a gentle one, but a manipulation it still is, no matter if the Tyrells actually grew fond of the Sansa, especially since Olenna had no problems framing Sansa for Joffrey's murder, no matter the consequences that could've taken place if LF had not been obsessed with her and Cat.

And even then, Olenna is a smart woman, I have no doubt she might have had a inkling of LF less than savory intentions toward her and what more she would not have relinquished the hold of the key to the North so easily. Possibly she had planned to use the Tyrell's influence to get Sansa to walk out of the trial innocent, at that point with Tyrion taken out of the equation the key to the North would be again free for the taking, and the Tyrells would have been looked at favorably as they had helped the girl and that would've meant gaining Sansa's gratitude and loyalty.

They treated Sansa as a coveted piece of their board game, they wanted her but had no remorse in using her as they saw fit. They may have grown fond of her, but were always ready to sacrifice her if it came to that.

Kindness can be a weapon as much as any other, especially when wielded for one's purposes, which is what the Tyrells (Margaery included) did. Never forget they had been aiming for the Iron throne long before Ned even stepped in KL, to the point Renly showed him a painting of Margaery asking him if she bore any resemblance to Lyanna Stark, in hope they might manage to uncover Cersei's lies and put Margaery on the throne representing a willing Lyanna Stark in Robert's mind.

The fact that they use kindness on the people they mean to use, sours all the more any genuine fondness that may have grown. Also, I don't doubt they would have treated Sansa well if she ever became a Tyrell and she might even fall in love with Willas and she would be the wife of the Lord of the Reach, so it was scarcely in those times a bad match especially in that context, still if we're talking of shipping there are too many shady points imo.

Also, I had not considered it that way, but yes...grooming in a way could also be applied as a definition to what Margaery did to Tommen in the show and to what she could've done to Sansa. In the books it's more nuanced, but still Cersei worries that Margaery is doing exactly that...Tommen is even younger in the books and Cersei realizes that Margaery manipulates him way better than she could have Joffrey, because he is more pliant and less dangerous.

So yeah, icky.

Don't worry! I enjoyed reading your opinion and never worry about expressing your opinion. I want my tumblr to be a safe heaven for anyone (whatever they ship and whatever their fav character) as long as we are polite and you certainly were. Nothing rude about your opinion, don't worry!

Anzi, thank you for sharing, nonny!, I had not considered that angle but it fits.

I hope you have an amazing day!

#ask the hag #anon asks #brutally honest opinion #asoiaf edition

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steel--fairy · 1 year

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OC Headcanons #2

them and their families : )

violet lives with her dad. her mom died when she was 7 or so. violet was greatly affected by this as she was super close with her mom. her and her dad just... don't know how to connect with each other. theres love, but its distant and awkward. she honestly gets along better with red's mom.

daphne has a large family. she lives with her mom and sister, kris. ethan and lyra stay over frequently enough to count as residents, with lyra genuinely living there fulltime. she's also related to wallace and lisia in hoenn, and i made wallace and lisia related to wally so it's a whole family tree. theres also [redacted]. her mom and dad divorced when she was still a baby. he's not in the picture at all anymore. daphne thinks he can go eat shit. besides that, she's very close to all of them, even the ones in hoenn. (minus wally. his poor health meant he was never able to visit sootopolis and trips to petalburg were rare) family means a lot to her.

ivy actually has 2 parents who are still together! everyone be shocked! norman and her mom, of course. she's very much a daddys girl and always jumped at the chance to help norman out. not as close to her mom, but it's still a good relationship.

chryssa has her mom and her twin brother lucas. it is not a well adjusted family. their dad died shortly before they were born and johanna did not take it well. johannas something of a contest stage mom to chryssa while pretending lucas doesn't exist since she only wanted one girl and not a pair of twins. chryssa hates her mom and has very complicated feelings about lucas.

ieva has her mom and 3 brothers. matas and marius (older twin brothers) and ramsey (younger). she gets along well with her brothers! she's especially close with matas, tho she spends more time with ramsey since they're closer in age and he still lives at home. she was very close to her dad who died when she was 12ish. he was her hero growing up and his death put her into something of a depression. close to her mother as well, though she was always a daddys girl.

bryony only has her mom, though hugh's basically a brother. it's a very chill relationship between them. has not an inkling who her father is and doesn't give a shit.

carmella also only has her mom. they're very close due to them being the only constant in each others life for so long. grace is honestly kind of overprotective at times and carmella pretends to hate it, but she secretly loves it. im going back and forth on her possible dad so.

kiana is also very close to her mom. similar to carmella, they moved around a lot so they were each others sole consant. her father was giovanni and considering how young she was when they left him, kiana actually looks back on him semi-fondly. when she meets him again, not so much and she realizes with hindsight how messed up her early childhood was. also lives with her grandmother but they aren't super close. kiana just hasnt spent much time around her. also has a half brother in silver. once they meet, she thinks he's the coolest ever and silver has no idea how to respond to the blatant hero worship.

lili is adopted by a single mother, but she also has a secret sibling who wasnt adopted alongside her (bede). gets along well enough with her mum, alongside her grandparents who she also lives with. does not get along as well with bede. that is a supremely rocky relationship for quite a while and even once they come to terms with things they're more likely to argue then get along.

jess lived with her mom. she didn't enjoy it. why do i keep giving the sinnoh oc's horrible mothers. rip. when she's yeeted to the past and experiences some memory troubles, one of the biggest holes is memories of her mother. this gives her a sense of relief and she's not wholly sure why. sometimes, she feels bad about that and wonders what it says about her. anyways, gets pseudo-adopted by laventon and in turn pseudo-adopts vessa as a little sister.

#pokemon oc #oc: lili #oc: daphne #oc: jess #oc: violet #oc: ivy #oc: ieva #oc: bryony #oc: kiana #oc: carmella #oc: chryssa #verse posting

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jiminrings · 3 years

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lunchbox koo first time ughhh it’ll be so cute >< jungkook is shy but after the first time he gets freaky and gets more confident regarding that

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

it’s stem koo’s first time, and he could cry in bliss just knowing that it’s with you — it would always be you.

Jungkook thinks he shouldn't complain.

He thinks he shouldn't complain not because there isn't any room for it (plenty for it actually), but because he thinks there's nothing about it at all that's complaint-worthy and is demanding of any revision.

You're used to him complaining at this point and atleast he has the nerve to feel quite sorry, but it's just something that eats at his nerves when he wants to raise his grievance with you.

In fact, Jungkook thinks he should be grateful because after all, his so-called "problem" is something that some people would fight tooth and nail for to have.

His ears perk when you instruct him to move the full-length mirror to his right, cheeks puffing out mid-thought at the word that it stops him completely from adjusting the placement of the mirror to your liking.

“Don’t," he softly mumbles, brows knitting in the barrage of emotions he doesn't know how to dissect, “don’t call me that.”

He sees the confusion register in your face, staring down on him while you’re stood on your bed and he suddenly feels the need to back-track his words.

“Call you what?” your eyebrows furrow in recollection of everything you’ve ever said and called him for the past hour, seeing your boyfriend shy away from your glance with a childish look on his face that it sinks in eventually. “Baby?”

Jungkook cusses under his breath on how you managed to catch on so quick, putting his hand on his nape as if you were gonna eat him alive on what he’s gonna say next.

He sometimes hates himself for being so honest when it comes to you, and sometimes he hates how understanding you could be because he couldn’t predict what you’d react to him now.

“Yoongi teased me awhile ago.”

It’s a pathetically small mumble and Jungkook isn’t even sure if the words ever crossed past his lips, but he’s sure that they left him somehow because you’re laughing.

You’re full-on cackling either at him or with him and as much as it makes his lips curve at the sound of your laughter, it makes him defensive.

Defensive enough that he doesn’t realize he’s pouting because it’s his second nature, scrunching his face in the process.

“You’re not supposed to laugh. Even Jin elbowed me when you called me that.”

He's dancing around the term of endearment and he chalks it up to how he distinctly remembers Yoongi repeating it with his eyes squinted and his eyebrows wiggling, added with Seokjin's sharp elbows that made him consciously feel his ribs.

“Shouldn’t you be happy?” you tilt your head with genuine curiosity, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Don’t get me wrong, but didn’t you tell me that you wanted to be closer with them? That you want them to loosen up to you? They’re just teasing you, Jungkook.”

“Y-yeah, I did say that, you’re right,” he sheepishly admits, already aware that he was contradicting himself from the start. “I swear it could count as bullying though.”

Jungkook feels appalled for a split second before he realizes that the laugh he's given you is worthwhile, a tiny bit satisfied that his complaints atleast gave you sincere amusement.

It's in ridiculous moments like these that you realize your boyfriend tends to be a little more sensitive than the rest of the people you're accustomed to. A little more fragile, a little more eroded around the edges but it doesn't mean that he isn't any less compact at the core.

“Take it up to student affairs then.”

“Seokjin is student affairs. You’re not funny.”

The frown on his face gives you all the more reason to observe him this way — sensitive, warm, lovable.

Jungkook can't be Jin because your boyfriend would whimper at the slightest onset of an inconvenience but he'd whimper even more if he can't manage to resolve it. Meanwhile, your friend installs Ikea furniture without a manual and sleeps on it for weeks until he finds the resolve to continue trying.

Jungkook can't be Yoongi either because the former would bend over backwards and drink a mistaken order given to him, even if it means he paid extra for something he didn't want. On the other hand, the latter isn't afraid of coming straight to the counter holding your burger when you clearly said that you don't want pickles in it.

He can't be the other two people you treasure in your life and it's more than okay for you, the special distinction of how he stands within your heart already being enough.

“Alright, alright,” you wave him off, going straight to the mirror to adjust it because he's clearly too perplexed on how you just agreed with him. “I won’t ever call you baby again.”

Jungkook has no qualms with you but he certainly has one now, mouth parted at how that was too easy. How his request that he didn't even wholeheartedly mean became approved that quick.

A squeak leaves him before he knows it, looking between you and the reflection of himself.

“Well now you’re just guilt-tripping me.”

“I’m respecting your wishes,” you whisper playfully, making him gasp as he loops his arm around yours to effectively pull you closer out of panic.

“Don’t say ever,” he emphasizes and then could you see how his eyes widen at the particular word, cheeks puffed while he tries to get you to meet his eyes. “You’re never gonna call me baby? Ever?”

“Nope,” you breathlessly chuckle as you attempt to unloop your arm from his, earning yourself an even more eager pull to his direction. “Why would I? I’m just granting your wishes.”

Jungkook looks stupefied at your retort and you have an inkling in your mind that he looks like he'd actually plead with you, being unmistaken when you see his bottom lip actually quiver.

“Can I take it back?”

He hugs you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder and effectively nuzzling his nose to the crook of your neck. It's a habit of his to burrow into you whenever he gets his hands on you, something you've noticed him doing to comfort himself.

You obviously don't mind it but it's something you've come to know that Jungkook doesn't even realize the effect of, not that it matters, but it's in softly domestic moments like these that it packs an extra effect.

“Call me baby again.”

He mumbles against your neck and with the way you look at his reflection, you're sure it's not out of that eager will. He's hung-up on the pet name and you're clearly hung-up on much different things.

"No."

You disagree so certainly and you're clueless that you've already uttered it out loud. It's a clear no to the things that materialized in your head out of thin air, all because of the way Jungkook nuzzles into your neck and your first thought is to give him more access.

He's oblivious to the internal conflict in your mind — oblivious to the way how there's a lump on your throat from realizing that at your point of view in front of the mirror, Jungkook engulfs you as a whole unit.

It's a weekend and the only plans you had were to buy a mirror and get takeout for lunch; simple as that. But then Yoongi caught wind of your plans, and decided that he'd come with because he reasons that he wants to see if the mirror you're buying is worthy enough because of course, it's only natural that whatever you buy is his too — or atleast because he argues that it's the law.

Then came Jin, who woke up because of Yoongi's insistent voice that if you don't let him come with you to the store, it could only mean that you don't love him anymore. Naturally, he shoots straight up from bed because he can't pass up on egging either of you. Coincidentally, it also happens that he bought a new keyring and he wants to drive to see if it would obnoxiously jangle around. Even more coincidentally, he has an extra hundred dollars in the event that the needs to add in to your budget because he wants your mirror to atleast be three feet taller than him.

You should've expected that when you replied to Jungkook's good morning message at an earlier time than you usually did, which he knows could only mean that you're running an errand, he automatically asks if he could come with and walks to your dorm even before you say yess.

It's far too hot for his usual hoodie and sweats combo that he came straight into your space without much thought of what he should wear for an errand he just only had a vague idea of — a fitted thin black shirt and black basketball shorts that cut off above his knees.

Jungkook's too oblivious with the way he has his arms around your middle, snaked snugly right below your boobs, with his face nuzzling your neck and the costly effects it has on you and your sanity.

“Why not? That’s my wish. You just told me that you’re granting mine.”

He's still fixed on gaining back his name but you're way past it, instead fixating your gaze downwards to empty your thoughts.

It's okay. It's completely and utterly okay. It's just hot, your boyfriend's wearing a different outfit, and it just happens that he's naturally clingy. He's clueless and you're not pointing it out to him that you're bothered in a way that you're certain he's not quite ready to help with.

“Pick another, Jungkook. I’ll rethink it in two business days because apparently, someone’s embarrassed of me.”

You recover fairly quickly and you don't have to shrug him off you because he detaches himself to look at you in shock, his only points of warmth on you being his hands on your shoulders while he looks at your reflection.

“W-what? I’m not! I’m just-“ he trips over his words when you look at him with a mocking raise to your brow, making him mumble in defeat. “Shy. You know I’m shy.”

“I know, bab-“ you intentionally slip up and only then could you see him scowling at your teasing, bumping your elbow to the back to lightly jab at him.

You still have your mind to purge your thoughts from and mirrors to clean, laying your point as best as you could when you suddenly push him off you with your hips, getting an offended gasp afterwards.

“I know, Jungkook. But you know that Yoongi and Jin are my friends and they’re just teasing you. You can’t whine at everything, y’know?”

“I am not whiney!”

Jungkook's eyes widen considerably, talking in a pout while he desperately defends himself from what he thinks is your most ruthless dig at him.

His eyes are still wide at you even if he waits for you to say something, anything, that would give him the peace of mind that you agree with him not being whiny at all. He's blinking every second in the fear that you'd mouth the words anytime now, but it never comes. The agreement to be in his side never comes band all he gets is your nose scrunching up at him.

“Sure you aren’t.”

You didn't know what to expect now that you've egged him further but it's definitely not him tugging your shirt towards him, making the fabric cling onto your front more than snugly as he cages you in to his chest innocently.

“Take that back."

“Jungkook,” you warn him with no real bite just yet, sending him daggers through the mirror but he doesn't relent and in fact returns your glare that's twice more stubborn.

He frowns petulantly, brows knitted together in his attempt at correction. “It’s baby.”

A breath you didn't even know you were holding leaves you in a breeze, unaware that your boyfriend's stubbornness all along is something that would knock you out of breath.

You try to ignore how Jungkook easily pulled you into him without much thought, only to possessively embrace you into his hold — all of that done out of pure innocence, just because you agreed to not call him baby.

“Do you know what you did just now?”

His wide curious eyes later turned into realization, hand scrambling to cover your mouth for what you're gonna point out next but you get it out even before he could.

“You just whined.”

Jungkook audibly groans to your ear and you have to close your eyes just to stop thinking full-time, not wanting your mind to wander to the other scenarios that would pull out such a guttural sound out of him once or rather several more.

He frowns and you're unfazed because you're used to him doing so when he doesn't get what he wants, edging you to the thought that he's really quite the stubborn one out of the two of you. The clingier, stubborn, and more eager one in the relationship.

Jungkook stands up fully and just when you think that he's letting go off you, his arms bend at the elbows and proceed to level them underneath your armpits — poised in a position as if he's holding you back and keeping you still while he looks at you in the mirror but of course; he's clueless.

You try to keep your thoughts at bay but it's beyond hard knowing that he keeps feeding into them without knowing, not being able to resist either when you break out of his hold to get out of such an enticing position you've once seen in your dreams, making him tumble back a little with a pout.

"Move away a little."

He doesn't take your dismissal to heart because he sees you pulling up a chair in front of the mirror, standing on top of it to hang the crochet heart Jin made for you.

Did you plan to put up the powder blue crochet heart on top of your mirror? Yes. Did you really need to do it now? Not at all, but you felt it was necessary to buffer your impure thoughts into focusing on a wholesome and handmade craft your friend gave you.

You think it's helping because it's immediately removing your attention on how delectable your boyfriend looks and instead refocus it onto sticking it up as even and as proportional as you could. What doesn't help, is that Jungkook's first instinct upon seeing you stand up on a chair is to put his hands on your waist tightly.

His hands are large and pretty and warm and it makes you cuss underneath your breath of how this is the second time the vision of him holding you up appears, the plan of clearing your thoughts immediately backfiring.

“I can make another wish, right?”

“If it makes you whine less, sure.”

You reply almost immediately, relieved that he's talking and deviating the conversation into somewhere else. His whines always seep into the back of your head and as much as you'd want to hear them, the timing of it all doesn't match up.

You're just about to pry his hands off from your waist but it doesn't happen because Jungkook holds you even more tightly than before, a heavy breath leaving him that it has you glancing at his reflection in the mirror.

“Take my virginity.”

Jungkook doesn't hesitate thinking twice that he's caught you off-guard because you make no move in hiding your surprise, the crochet heart you were in the verge of sticking onto the wall with mounting tape already falling unceremoniously.

His eyes widen when there's an impalpable silence that consumes the both of you but he doesn't find himself wanting to take the words back, completely confused when you step down to the ground with no hesitation.

“Give me my first time.”

He makes it clear by saying it again, strengthening what he's just said seconds ago but it feels like it's been hours since your face is indifferent, nonchalant even as you sit on the edge of your bed to open your phone.

“Don’t just say that.”

He hears you grit through your teeth and Jungkook fears that he's offended you for a second, although he doesn't find any hint of it on your face that remains the same. You look unbothered just as usual and not as if he just asked you to fuck him — he thought he'd get a bigger and perhaps more loving reaction than what you're giving him now.

“But I mean it — I do want it,” he explains sincerely, plucking your phone from your fingers and tossing it behind you, earning a squawk in return. “But not unless you don’t want to.”

Jungkook's voice becomes small and becomes regretful that he just snatched your phone away from you because initially, he just did it to get you to look at him and not avoid eye contact! But here he is, the little stunt he pulled already biting him in the ass.

You look up at him and it's unlike of him to be the one to shy away from all the gazing he does at you, already knowing that he feels touchy at the moment. He's pretty just like you've realized before; defined and soft at the same time, his faded blonde hair longer as they reach past his ears and are tucked behind them, his eyes more visible since he's taken off his glasses and perched them on your vanity just minutes ago.

“Of course I want to,” your voice is as gentle and as soothing it could be, instantly garnering the attention of your boyfriend who's standing in front of you. “It’s just that I don’t want you to feel obligated because you’re with me.”

It's true and you mean it wholeheartedly, comprising the majority of the reasons why you always try to tone down the mature thoughts you have regarding your boyfriend because it feels intrusive almost, even if he's boldly told you about the thoughts he had of you before.

It's internalized pressure you always try to contain because you can't exactly tell Jin nor Yoongi how much you want your boyfriend to fuck and do the likes with you, knowing that it would invite even more pressure into your mind.

Jungkook's heart expands twofold at the consideration you always have for him, eyes bulging as he desperately shuts down the concern you have for him.

“I’m completely sure, I promise.”

He bobs his head up and down in lightning speed and his hands automatically reach out for you to take, wanting you to pull him down on the bed, but you apparently don't do it quick enough which is why he immediately sits down beside you and places you on his lap instead. "Never been more sure ever than right now, I'm telling you."

Your laugh gets cut short because he puts his hand behind your head and pulls you close fervently, kissing you like he means it that you're pleasantly surprised when he immediately manages to take control, drawing out a moan from him when you happily cooperate.

You've always known that Jungkook's an attentive lover; always keen and eager and trying to please. He's giddy and vocal and it crosses your mind that you're all he's ever known when it comes to this, the realization of the fact giving more warmth to you than you initially thought it would.

Jungkook makes you tilt your head so he could kiss you deeper and it doesn't make him glaze over the fact that he doesn't want you to strain your neck, his hand affectionately cupping your nape while your hands get busy trying to get his shirt over and off him, feeling the warmth of his hand on your exposed skin.

"How do I-" he whispers, grunting particularly when you grind on his clothed cock that's straining through his basketball shorts, "how do we do this?"

He feels an unmeasurable heat within and he knows he can't chalk it up to the weather this time, but rather, he'd point it out to you who's grinding on him as your hips rut forward, the warmth of your center slowly bleeding into his own because your shorts are thin and he could make himself silly just trying to imagine you bare.

“It’s your first time, Koo,” you scratch lightly in circles on his back, turning him over the edge more than it does to soothe him. “I’ll take care of you.”

Jungkook's eyes prick at your promise and he finds his mouth falling open because not soon after your assurance, you undress right in front of him without hesitation, instantly finding religion in the silent worship he gives you with his eyes.

“I think I’m gonna cum already.”

The words tumble out of him without filter and it makes you snort mid-way in making him shimmy out of his shorts, cock springing up to his tummy that he feels almost embarrassed under your watchful gaze.

“Save it,” you stifle giggles at his candidness but it became his turn to stop breathing when you sit on his thighs, eyes wide in realization that the two of you are so close and the fact alone makes him want to explode.

Jungkook's vow of speechlessness becomes void the moment your hand pumps his desperately pink and throbbing member, mewling into your kiss that makes his eyes squint in pleasure.

His hands dig into your hips and you relish with the way he kneads it like he's learned how to when he massages your neck when you're buried in schoolwork and it's the only thing he could do to help you out because you're in your senior year and he has no clue when he squints at your textbooks. There's eager intention with how he kneads the flesh, his neatly-trimmed nails leaving marks when you squeeze his cock a little too tight.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, am I? I read somewhere that it can hurt sometimes.”

Jungkook speaks the moment he feels you slowing down with your ministrations, figuring out that this is the part when it actually happens and it makes you smile unexpectedly.

He's humble and there's no cockiness behind it (even if next time you want him to own up just rightfully), just full of worry in theory and soon in practice because after all, you are his first.

“You’re big, Jungkook,” you mumble to his lips and he doesn't know how to take what you've just said, the worry leaving his face when you press your lips to him to calm his worries. “But it’s okay. It’s just gonna be a bit of a stretch for me, while it’s gonna be tight for you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna hurt you,” he's looking up at you with innocent eyes and the intimacy in it almost knocks you out of breath, a chuckle leaving your lips.

“You’re not,” you assure him sincerely, the thought of having it otherwise next time making your tongue poke your cheek in thought, shaking the thought away in the meantime as you runs your hands down his arms. “If it makes you feel better, you can stretch me out first.”

“Yes please.”

Jungkook nods and eagerly heeds your suggestion to satisfy his qualms, licking his lips when he looks down at you because you're practically dripping and he could feel the wetness sticking into his inner thighs.

He feels your lips on his neck as you let him get lost looking at your pussy, his breathing evidently getting heavy until you let him fuck you with his eyes enough, disrupting the static in his head.

“There. Put a finger in me.”

Jungkook's eyes widen at the bluntness of your words, his hand brushing accidentally to your inner thigh that it makes you exhale loudly. “I just put it in?”

The comical gaze he's fixed on you makes you snicker, humming a tune while he barely blinks.

“Well you fuck with me it for awhile, but yes, Koo. You put it in me as the first step.”

Jungkook blushes and he avoids mulling over the stupid question he's just asked that should've been rhetoric by now because for fuck's sake, the last time the two of you were in bed, he did eat the cum out of you while you were still in your shorts.

He wastes no time and inserts his finger into your dripping hole, seeing his finger disappear seamlessly, engulfed in your tight warm walls that the sight makes the lump in his throat hard to swallow.

The intrusion of his middle finger as he plunges the entirety of it makes you throw your head back at the sensation you haven't quite achieved in the past few months by yourself, clenching around the digit in bliss.

“B-but you’re so tight."

He stutters when you clench around his finger once more, experimenting in pulling it out until only the tip of his digit is in you and plunges it back again, a heedy moan escaping you with no remorse. “Fuck.”

You lift your hips to sink down on his finger and it makes him realize that he's sat frozen at the thought of how your pussy is so tight and he finds it overwhelmingly pleasurable even if it's just his finger in you, finding it within him to come to his senses and thrust it upwards when you didn’t expect it.

“Imagine it’s your cock in me,” you mutter in between moans when he experiments with ramming his digit into you faster, withdrawing a fucked-out whine when he unintentionally hooks it upward. “Feels like this but it’s much much better.”

Jungkook whines from your words alone because the thought itself makes him salivate, adding another digit into your pussy as he looks down to how it stretches and accommodates them snuggle, pointing them curved inwards that you instantly rub yourself around his fingers in small circles.

He keeps focused as he tries to draw more of the sounds you give him, egging him on to fuck you harder with his fingers because the way you moan his name is a reward within itself.

“You ready?”

In his selfless attempt at pleasuring you, Jungkook didn't realize that your hand's holding his wrist in place to keep it still, not even sure at all if he's made you cum already because his head's clouded with pleasure from giving you your own.

His eyes are dilated and focused entirely on you, watching your every move as you ease off from his fingers, holding his digits like he's never seen them before and sees them glistening with your essence — and Jungkook finds himself popping them into his mouth, moaning in ecstasy at a full taste of you.

The sight's enough to make your eyes widen, clenching around nothing when you see your boyfriend lapping up at his fingers to taste every last bit of you as if you aren't in front of him.

“You’re too precious,” you kiss the corner of his mouth that’s glossy with the taste of you and he hums in contentment with it, eyes shifting open when you pull away and you stand up from your seat on his thighs.

“Where are you going?”

He doesn't hide the panic in his voice at all and you want him to get rid of it entirely because you're not going anywhere, looking back at him as he gets back to his sense on how you're literally just five feet away from him.

“This is the part where you come with me,” you nudge him with a tilt of your head, a blush dusting his cheeks because he panicked for no reason. He stands up attentively, walking to where you stand right beside the chair you've just stood up on minutes ago. “Sit.”

Jungkook doesn't complain but he finds himself confused while he complies either way, looking back to the bed that he thought would be in use just like all the prior knowledge he's seen in the media he's consumed.

“I’ll ride you first,” you say and he effectively catches his attention, head whipping up to you. “Told you I was gonna take care of you, right?”

It's only then that it clicks in Jungkook's mind that he's sitting on a chair in front of the mirror because you're gonna ride him, the dots connecting as he's never realized that his impromptu request of you taking his virginity would end up in front of the very thing that got him coming over to your dorm today in the first place.

He's excited and he can't understand why you can't just ride him right now, your eyes flickering as if you're looking for something that he just now realizes.

“Are you looking for a condom?”

“Yeah,” you nod with amused eyes, pleasantly surprised that Jungkook noticed your silent search and even more surprised when he pipes up right after.

“I have one.”

“Since when did you carry around condoms?”

The giggle leaves you before you even realize it and Jungkook doesn't even flinch, the words leaving him determinedly and seriously that it makes him smile at the end of it.

“Since you gave me a blowjob.”

He watches your face register confusion until it turns into genuine laughter, making his mouth drop open in faux offense because you seem to not believe him. “I’m not kidding! I thought I should be ready at any moment after that.”

"You're insufferable. Where is it?"

His own chest rises in laughter when you speak in between peals of giggles, pointing to the pocket of his shorts as you walk to retrieve them.

“I went home hard that night because I literally couldn’t stop thinking. A-and I made Jimin drive me to the grocery as soon as I got home,” he winces in recollection and it makes you throw your head back when you come back to standing beside him, holding a silver packet between your fingers that his eyes glint at.

“No you did not,” you gasp in shock for what he probably made Jimin go through, although not entirely surprised because he's told you countless times that his roommate acts as a brazen older brother for him.

“I made him buy me my condoms because I was too shy to do it myself.”

“What a friend Jimin is.”

You chuckle as you put your leg over Jungkook's, getting acquainted his thighs and dangerously near his cock that it makes his reply weaken in anticipation while you're still dazed in laughter.

“You should hear when he asked me my size and I didn’t know how to determine it.”

“Oh my god,” you remark once you visualize the scene of Jimin asking your boyfriend his size in condoms, the laughter dying down as Jungkook's chest is frozen still. “I’ll kiss him on the cheek next time that I see him because he’s a saint.”

“Now don’t do that.”

He scoffs at the tiny reminder you set for yourself, rolling his eyes that later narrow when he sees a long line of your spit droop down to his member that already so wet, already slick and leaking even if you've barely done anything.

He watches you tear the packaging with nimble fingers and it reminds him how he's just practically seconds away of feeling and filling you, watching you pinch the tip of the condom before snugly fitting it on his cock.

“You take care of me so good.”

Jungkook mumbles and he says it not because you've just put on a condom for him, but because he feels the thought flash in neon lights on his head and he feels compelled to say nothing but the truth.

You kiss him on the lips for it, his eyes shutting close in sweetness when you press one more peck before pulling away.

“Tell me when it gets too much for you.”

Jungkook could never anticipate the sheer euphoria he feels at the back of his spine when you sink yourself on him achingly slow, head thrown back at the gush of newfound tightness.

His tip prods in you and once he looks down to see where your pussy stretches around him, it makes his eyes roll back sinfully, mouth parted open.

“So fucking tight.”

You sink down completely on him and that's when you feel the fullness of him that you've been craving for, stretching you into a pleasurable ache that could only be fixed as you have more of him into your pussy.

“You fill me up so good.”

“Oh my god,” Jungkook moans as he feels you on the hilt of his cock, unconsciously bucking up as he maxes out his length into your pussy that makes you shudder.

“That’s the spot, baby,” you whine at his pulsating length and he mewls attentively at the return of your endearment for him, wanting to milk out your sounds as much as he could at the moment.

He's stuck on how to do because he's sure he could just sit here and cum from your warmth alone, his thoughts being interrupted when you whisper to his ears in a definite tone.

“Sit pretty while I fuck myself on you.”

You suddenly bounce on his cock and Jungkook’s tummy clenches at the feeling of you and it shows with how he moans pornographically, your warm walls clenching around him for an even tighter fit that it suffocates him in the best way possible.

His balls feel full and Jungkook has his arms around your naked waist tightly and possessively, almost as if you’d slip away when you’re holding onto his shoulders just as tight.

“You love that? Love it when I bounce up and down your cock?”

Your voice is desperately on-edge and has the slightest hint of a mock, making your boyfriend's stomach tighten as he hits an intimately soft part inside you that makes you moan just as instantly, his closer position of him leaning against his chair making his cock graze your g-spot.

“I love it so much please.”

Jungkook's overwhelmed with pleasure but it's just not enough because he wants all of it, adjusting his grip on you in a way that he can easily lift you from underneath your thighs, bouncing you down even harder as he watches your pussy embrace him completely.

His neediness rubs a part of your ego you didn't even know you possessed, sucking a hickey on his neck and he obediently gives your more access, his eyes shut close in ecstasy.

Jungkook looks beautiful underneath you as you fuck yourself onto him but it's just not enough for you, wanting to see him in entirety.

“Open your eyes, baby,” you graze your nails on the length of his spine that makes him whine in sensitivity, eyes bursting open. You briefly stop riding him that it makes him whine at the loss of contact, bending backwards to grab his glasses that's perched on your vanity. “Wear your glasses for me.”

He blinks at your through thick lashes when you put them on him, holding by the chin to kiss his jaw as you make him look at the mirror behind you, the reflection of you turned against it while he's facing the glass, legs open and cock inside you as he realizes that he gets to see the entirety of you in this way.

“Look at how pretty you are while you’re fucking me.”

It's the last thing he hears before you bounce on his cock harder than you ever did, throwing your hips circling around him into the mix that it pushes him closer to his impending climax.

“Moaning for me prettily too. Aren’t you a treat, hm?”

Jungkook's vocal and it's never been lost on you that he tells you exactly how he feels, no shame in being loud because it's exactly what you make him feel.

His eyes are open and his eyebrows are raised in bliss, mouth parting open as you leave open-mouthed kisses on his neck that makes him whine even harder.

His eyeglasses were barely at the brim of fogging but now they're slightly frosted, making you wipe at them in hurry to see how your boyfriend's eyes are fixed on nothing but you at the moment but that's when you see — the whole reason why they were starting to fog up anyways.

“Are you crying?” you wipe on his tears from underneath his glasses and you slow down your pace, whining in place when he pinches your ass before ramming into you from his position below because you stopped moving.

“I’m crying because you make me feel so good.”

Jungkook admits immediately and he only became conscious of the tears on his cheeks when you pointed it out, unaware of them altogether because he's so stuck in his cloud of pleasure that nothing else mattered besides you and the high you give him.

You grind on him as soon as he bottoms out, keeping yourself pressed to him that drawls a needy stutter of your name in an instant.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-“ he rams extra harder into you and grinds his hips in in small circles, “-cum! I’m gonna fucking-“

Jungkook moans the loudest you've ever heard from him as he shoots his release into the condom, feeling you riding out his high that makes him sound even more guttural.

He cums loads, knowing that he has it in him that his own high gives you your own not shortly after, the extra warmth enveloping his member that makes him whine in overstimulation.

He's sweaty with his head tilted back in the chair, his hair damp and his neck wet as he hears you chuckle, snapping him back to reality as he pulls you to his sweaty chest while he’s still inside of you.

“Hmm, are you okay? Do you want some water?” you check up on him amidst being in quite of a pant yourself. “I have some Gatorade in the fridge, I think. It’s for my next game but you can have it.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, pinching your side at the sound of you teasing him as you've literally just finished giving him his first and most mind-blowing orgasm he's ever had.

“Again?”

He toothily grins as he exhales, making you roll your eyes while he waits in patience.

“Catch your breath first, Jungkook.”

“I am, I am! Give me like two minutes and after that, we can fuck again, right?”

The transparent anticipation on his tone makes you coo at him, scratching his hair that makes him hum in contentment.

“Do you have any more condoms?”

What was supposed to be an innocent and genuine question makes Jungkook suddenly straighten up on his seat, almost making you fall backwards if he hadn't secured a hand on the small of your back.

His eyes widen comically, his cheeks reddening in recollection.

“When Jimin drove me to the grocery that night I uh, I used my debit card because all the bills I had were too big for the regular packs.”

“Jungkook...” you mumble his name and then could he hear the tone that basically inquired him on what the hell did he do, making him sheepishly look at the ceiling to avoid your gaze.

“A-and I didn’t want the cashier to hate me, nor Jimin because I made him buy them, because it was night and the cash registers were already probably collected and they didn’t have change.”

“Jungkook, oh my god...”

You should’ve noticed the way Jungkook’s backpack crinkles, or why the front pocket must be bulging even if he explains that he barely puts stuff in it because it's easily the most stealable portion of anyone's bag.

It explains why Jin once thought that he was hiding a tinfoil lunch in there one time when he walked into your dorm, not finding any reason for him to pack a lunch when you automatically make an extra portion for him when he comes over.

You make Jungkook look at you and his cheeks are bulging as he tries to hide the laughter from seeing you look beyond shocked at him, knowing that your boyfriend's considerate but not to this level.

“I bought a whole tray.”

and at last here it is!! stem koo's first time :D we've finally come to this peak besties omg if you've been here sometime when the chronological series was on-going, you'd know how this moment is ultimately monumental <3

as always, lmk what you think!! i love answering asks :D what do you want to see from the lunchbox lovers next? send them here <3

#stem koo #stem koo misc.#jungkook smut #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook imagine #jungkook au #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook oneshots #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook fic rec

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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years

Note

Hello! I was hoping for a comfort thing (i forget what the term is called sjdhshdb).

I recently had a small stroke on the 14th. A few days ago I started physical therapy and they told me that I might not have function in my right side for months- and to get back to the strength and ability I had before the stroke? They said it could take two whole years. I have to see them three times a week, and since I’m the only one who was able to work in my household, I’ve been stressed about how I’m going to afford all these appointments for the foreseeable future. Im have to use a walker to get around since I can’t put weight on my right leg, or it collapses. I don’t have full sensation in my right side, and right ear doesn’t hear as well. I feel like a burden when I ask my parents for help, since I can barely do anything on my own. I can’t even use the bathroom by myself and it’s literally right across from my bedroom.

So, I was wondering if you could write how Ticci Toby, Kate the Chaser, and who ever else you want would react and support their S/O who is going through something like I am? It can be headcanons, a one shot, a fic— It’s totally up to you! Thank you in advanced! It would mean so much to have this done.

Toby, Kate, Eyeless Jack and Hoodie Supporting an SO Who Had a Stroke

[GN Reader]

[AN: !! I hope you're well! I know we've been talking, but like genuinely you deserve so much love and support.]

Toby

Toby has a habit of making mountains out of molehills, so like honestly you're going to have to calm him down after telling him what's happened and coming to.

He cares about you so deeply and anything that even gives him the slightest inkling you could be lost forever makes him panic.

But once he's in a clear state of mind, he's really good for physical therapy!

He knows how frustrated you must be and he urges you to channel that frustration into something productive because that's what he's learned to do over the years.

Toby isn't always the most patient, but he gets it. He's there for you every step of the way. Don't apologize asking him for help it is his absolute pleasure to take care of you. Not a power thing, but pure love for you.

He'll take you to appointments, assist you with walking, hell he'll even back off if that's what you want because he does NOT want to baby you if you're not comfortable.

Once you're in a good place, he makes the whole thing easier to swallow. Toby copes with humor, and if you allow him, he'll help you do the same.

Toby is honestly such a sweetheart and is there for you every step of the way. Anything you want, anything you need, just name it and he's got it.

Kate

She's honestly handling it better than anyone else here if I'm being honest.

Once she's over the initial worry, she's mostly taking care of you with whatever you want.

Kate will make you food and give you things - it's just kinda what she does?? Like, I think one of her main love languages is gift giving so that's going to work into here.

Kate is really, really patient and will help ground you when you feel like floating off.

She's a darling through and through. Drives you places, handles things for you, and if you're worried about work or anything, appointments, her contacts stretch pretty far and wide. She's got you.

Kate helps you with physical therapy to the best of her abilities. I feel she broke a leg pretty bad as a kid and had to go through physical therapy as a result.

She likes to hold you and silently tell you how it's going to be alright. Wants you to feel safe.

With her at your side, 2 years feel like nothing.

Eyeless Jack

Medical professional wannabe, ofc he's got this in the bag.

You might honestly need to tell him to stop looking at this so clinically. He just wants to look at like, a treatment plan or something first.

Once he realizes you need a more nurturing, sweet kind of healing besides just the clinical stuff, Jack takes really good care of you.

He likes to hold you and purr. Also helps with physical therapy, and lets you vent to him pretty regularly because he knows how stifling it must be holding all this in!

I feel like recovering with Jack is honestly way better than anyone else because he's got medical knowledge and patience - paired with his nurturing nature towards his mate?? It's good.

If you have trouble hearing or anything of the like, Jack is very good with sign language! In fact, it's an unspoken law for all creeps and proxies to know sign, and it's a good skill to have regardless if you're hearing or not.

Jack does not want you apologizing for asking for his help!

He likes taking care of people, he'd just never openly admit it.

Hoodie

Brian actually has a knack for the medical field so like, he's got you just as good as Jack would! However, he's a lot more personal about it because well, he love you, how could he not be?

Brian is instantly at your bedside, answering your ever call because he knows how much you need him. Does not let you apologize or anything because he believes it's his job as your SO.

He's really, really good for the emotional aspect of all of this. Makes sure you're mentally healthy and that you have a safe way to vent.

He's good at physical therapy too. As a proxy, he's broken so many parts of himself it's unreal. Like, he gets it.

The two of you spend a lot of time taking it easy, speaking softly, just processing everything you're going through. He just wants you to feel okay again.

Brian does so many things for you because he doesn't want you to expend yourself AT ALL. He feels you're fragile, but ask him to back off and he will.

Brian has a habit of babying his SO just because he forgets how resilient humans can really be.

Brian adores you so, so much, he's just thankful you're still in his arms, and he'll be there with you every step of the way.

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arvandus · 3 years

Text

The Sound of Silence (18+ Aizawa x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Aizawa x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: After once again being stood up for a date at your favorite jazz club, you decide to give up dating entirely in favor of watching and fantasizing about your favorite jazz musician, Aizawa Shouta. You had assumed you’d never meet him face to face. You had assumed that he didn’t even know you existed. You’re about to learn that your assumptions are wrong.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY/NSFW; reader wears a sexy black dress (minimally described); minor sexual harassment; slow build; praise kink (if you squint); hand kink (probably); fingering; ‘baby’ petname.

Special Note: A few days late, but here’s my contribution to the BNHarem January Collab ‘Making Beautiful Music’ posted by @kingexpl0sionmurder. It was supposed to be a oneshot, but this particular piece got a mind of its own and will at least have a sequel. If we’re all really lucky, it may become a multichapter series in the far and distant future, when my life is less crazy (I have ideas, ok??). In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this fic!

Word Count: 9486

Recommended Song: No specific song at the moment, but this was what I listened to while writing this.

Lesson 1

It was crowded tonight, the air of the small club Midnight hot and heavy with the scent of cigar smoke and booze. The noise of conversations and laughing voices filled the air like the buzzing of a hive, as bodies mingled about like busy bees, each looking for their own bit of nectar. Some looking to win romance. Some looking to win money. While others were simply winning by enjoying the company of friends. Their movements were carried on the music that filled the space, upbeat jazz played by a three-person band. It was comforting in its familiarity, developed over multiple visits – some with friends, some with coworkers, and some with potential love interests.

You sat at the bar, a drink held protectively in your hand as your eyes searched. You checked your phone for messages but found none. It’d been a full twenty minutes and you were pretty sure by this point that your date wasn’t going to show up. It was supposed to be your first date in over a month, and you’d had high hopes for it - you’d clicked well with the person on your dating app (or so you thought), talking over the course of a couple of weeks before finally deciding to meet. So tonight, you’d put in a little extra effort into your appearance, donning a black dress that showed off your curves and putting careful attention into your makeup.

Damn. You were genuinely interested in this one.

You sent them a quick text in the hopes that you’d get a response. Give them an extra ten minutes… You thought. Maybe they were caught in traffic or something.

But by the time you hit the 45-minute mark with no messages, you’d officially given up. A half-hearted sigh fell past your painted lips. You weren’t really too surprised by this point. You’d been having terrible luck in the dating scene for a while now. Sometimes it was them. Sometimes it was you. But for whatever reason, each attempt ended in failure.

Oh well. It was likely for the best. At least you would be able to enjoy the rest of your evening in solitude instead of enduring a potentially disastrous date. And as for your attire, it certainly didn’t hurt to feel sexy, even if you had no one to share it with.

You loved this place. The atmosphere, the music… you’d even managed to make friends with the bartender Hizashi to the point that he’d walk you to your car on the nights that you stayed until closing.

Your eyes scanned around the room, observing. Wooden tables littered the main floor, where small lit candles cast yellow light on observing faces, eyes trained on the musicians. Booths lined along the far wall, filled mostly with men who puffed cigars over a game of cards, their raucous laughter carrying through the din. Closer to the bar was an arrangement of tall, round tables with matching bar height chairs. A group of women, likely on a ladies’ night out, filled the table closest to you, taking shots and laughing, their heels perched on the rungs. Waiters zigzagged their way through the crowd with expert precision, platters held high with drinks and snacks, while patrons milled about, waiting for an open table.

And, of course, there was the stage itself, where the jazz band finished their final piece before collecting their instruments and leaving the small stage. All that was left from their departure was a black baby grand piano, property of the club. Your pulse quickened as you checked your watch. Was it that time already?

Not a moment later, there he was. Long, black, wavy hair pulled back into a half ponytail, the hint of a 5 o’ clock shadow dusting his jawline and framing his lips. He was dressed in simple clothes, as always… a black v-neck shirt with the sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms and dark jeans. He entered the stage without so much a glance towards the busy room, instead making his way to the piano with his hands in his pockets. He sat down and from your position at the bar, you could barely see his long fingers arrange themselves at the keys, gently curled.

As soon as he began to play, the mood in the club shifted slightly from buzzing to relaxing. The flow of his fingers across the keys drew a lazy melody reminiscent of rainy days and hot coffee; of snuggling under warm blankets, feet intertwined with a lover who danced their fingers across your skin, gently tickling your flesh the way his fingers tickled those keys.

Aizawa Shouta.

Of course you knew his name. The first time you’d heard him play, you’d felt weightless, your body going numb as every sensation coalesced into your chest like the forming of a star. The question of his identity had fallen from your lips before you’d even realized it, and it had been Hizashi who’d answered you, a chuckle on his lips.

Fuck. It felt like he was making love to you through the notes, each key meticulously selected like a carefully-worded love letter. It made your palms sweat against your glass, your breath hitching in your throat as that familiar sensation took you over, holding you hostage.

This. This was probably why none of the people you dated ever seemed to work out. You’d tried… God, you’d tried… some of them were nice, good people. But you couldn’t help but search for that feeling – this feeling – each time you met someone new. And every single time it fell short. It was an impossible standard, an invisible bar that no one was able to jump. Deep down you knew this, yet you couldn’t figure out how to let it go. It was just music, right? Played by a handsome man who didn’t even know you existed. But you didn’t want to let go of this feeling, to settle for someone that made you feel only an inkling of what he made you feel. Or worse, to let it go and be left with emptiness.

You had no solutions. You were trapped in Aizawa’s maze of music, unwilling to find your way out as his notes weaved a cage around your heart.

You lost yourself to his melody, the club around you fading away. Time lost its meaning as you watched his hands dance along the keys, his fingers nimble. His half-lidded eyes were fixed on the instrument before him, his expression neutral. To anyone else watching, he would look almost bored; but you’d seen him play often enough that you’d grown accustomed to reading the nuances of his body language, even across the smoky haze. You knew his look of boredom was really a look of focus as he submerged himself in his art, his hands playing on instinct, a direct link between what he felt and what he expressed.

He loved what he did.

And you loved watching.

Hizashi’s voice interrupted your hypnosis. “Another night solo, huh?”

You took a look at the bartender as he prepped some cocktails for some waiting patrons. He had his wire-framed spectacles on again, the orange tinted ones, the color visible from the white backlight of the bar. His long blonde hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and he wore a pinstriped shirt adorned with a black waistcoat.

You chuckled and took a sip of your drink. “It wasn’t supposed to be.”

“You got stood up again?” You shrugged and Hizashi shook his head slightly. “If they ain’t willing to show up, then they ain’t worth your time.”

“Probably more like the other way around, don’t ya think?” you replied wryly.

Hizashi scoffed. “Don’t let them get to you. They don’t know what they’re missing.”

You grinned and set your glass down. “Are you flirting with me, Hizashi?”

He grinned back and winked at you through his spectacles. “Always, darlin’.”

You chuckled and returned your eyes to the stage. “It’s okay…” you said thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s time I stopped trying.”

“Mhm…” Hizashi watched you stare at Aizawa and he raised an eyebrow. “Y’know, I can get you an introduction if you’d like…”

“What??”

“Don’t play coy with me, darlin’. You know who I’m talking about. If you want to meet him, I can introduce you to him. We’re good friends, he and I. Known each other for years.” He commented.

You weren’t surprised by this news… you’d seen Aizawa join Hizashi at the bar on rare occasions after his performance was done. But you’d always been occupied at a table with company when it happened.

Watching him from a distance was one thing. But actually meeting him? Up close? Where you couldn’t hide your girlish infatuation?

You felt your pulse quicken with dread, heat flooding your body. “No, it’s okay. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience him.”

Hizashi gave you a skeptical look over the rim of his glasses before he shrugged. “Suit yourself, darlin’.”

The blonde stepped away, a new group of customers hollering for his attention. You took a large gulp of your drink hoping it would quell your nerves at the thought of meeting the man on stage. No. You definitely didn’t want to meet him. The last thing you needed was for your interaction with him to be a dud just like it was with all the others, destroying your own secret little fantasy. He was handsome to look at. And you fantasized about his skilled hands when you were in the quiet of your bedroom. But that was all it was; just harmless daydreams over someone you didn’t really know or plan to get to know. Besides, if you’d ever thought you had a chance with him, you certainly wouldn’t be trying to meet people through a dating app.

Gradually the time ticked by as you enjoyed watching the dark-haired man play, Hizashi stopping in to check on you from time to time and place fresh drinks in front of you. You were content for the time being, enjoying the steady buzz you were maintaining as you enjoyed the ambiance. Occasionally you people watched or engaged in conversation with Hizashi when he wasn’t busy… but for the most part, you relaxed as you observed the raven-haired pianist, letting his music ease the tension in your shoulders as the alcohol warmed your bones.

A few hours later, as you were busy talking with Hizashi, the final note on the piano rang out, signaling the end of Aizawa’s shift. The sudden silence hit you like a bucket of ice water, and your eyes darted towards the stage, your heart pumping panic through your veins. You had planned to leave just before his shift ended, just to make sure you didn’t run into him. Maybe it was the daydreaming, or the conversations with Hizashi, or the alcohol... but you’d lost track of time. Now you could only watch and wait to see where he’d end up, hoping beyond hope that he’d disappear like he usually did. Only rarely did he linger for a drink. What were the odds, right?

Tonight was one of those rarities, and you held your breath, your posture going rigid, as he sat himself a mere two seats away from you. He never once looked at you, instead, addressing Hizashi.

“Old Fashioned.” He requested, his voice deep. It sent a shiver down your spine as the blood in your veins turned molten. You knew instantly that that sound was now committed to memory.

“Do you even need to ask?” Hizashi replied with a grin as he slid the drink to him.

You disciplined your eyes to stare at your own drink as if it’d open up a portal for you to escape through. But as much as you struggled to control yourself, the simple gesture of Aizawa reaching for his drink made you break eye contact with your own. Your eyes caught how his fingers circled around his glass, long and surprisingly manicured. You couldn’t help but watch as he brought the drink up to his lips to take a sip, and from there your gaze followed the curve of his mouth, the stubble that framed it, his jawline, his eyes…

Your eyes made contact with his briefly and you quickly looked back down at your drink, your heart pounding in your chest.

Shit. He caught you staring.

You took a couple of deep swigs, forcing the alcohol down your tight throat, letting the burn of it act as a punishment for your violation. This. This was why you didn’t want to meet him. No words had even been shared yet and you were already making a fool of yourself.

“Long night?” Hizashi asked him. In the background, the next performer entered the stage and began to play, and you couldn’t help but strain your ears over the music to listen for Aizawa’s answer.

“I’ve had worse…” Aizawa replied. “You?”

“Busy, but I’m in good company at least.” Hizashi replied. Your heart pounded in your chest as your fingers tightened around your glass. Your eyes darted up to lock with the bartender’s and you caught him smirking at you, his small, pointed mustache following the curve of his upper lip.

He wouldn’t…

Suddenly another customer called for him from the other end of the bar. “Duty calls, friend. Be back in a sec.”

And just like that, you were left alone with him. Aizawa. Your mind froze as it warred with itself between actually talking with him or grabbing your things and running away. Surely Hizashi would understand, right? And you could always pay back your tab later. You took another deep gulp of alcohol in the hopes that it’d burn away some of your cowardice.

Before you could so much as open your mouth, the unwelcome sensation of an unfamiliar hand on the curve of your back made your body go rigid, every muscle poised to fight. A second later, the scent of hot breath laced in the stench of alcohol choked the air around you as an unfamiliar man slid into the open seat between you and the object of your affection.

“Hey there beautiful…” he slurred. “You’ve been by yourself all night… you in need of some company?”

You covered your hand over your glass and shifted away from him slightly, your demeanor cold. “No.”

“Aw, c’mon doll… don’t be like that…” he grinned. “You don’t come here dressed like that for no good reason…”

The man’s hand was still on your back, its presence making your skin crawl. It made the fog of your buzz lifting slightly, your senses suddenly heightened in the presence of a potential threat. Your eyes searched frantically for Hizashi. He had a way of handling drunken idiots. But he was stuck at the other end of the bar still, a drunk woman trying desperately hard to flirt with him.

You were on your own, and this creep clearly wasn’t taking no for an answer. Your brain started to fabricate worst-case scenarios and planning for them, a million options running through your mind. Screaming. Throwing your drink in his face. A well-placed kick to his shin. Your pepper spray.

Your free hand slipped into your purse, fingers closing around you’re the plastic cylinder. The feel of it gave you a sense of security, even if it might be a last resort. You didn’t really want to use it, especially with Aizawa sitting behind him… you never had to use it before, and you couldn’t guarantee your accuracy, especially in such a tight space.

You watched from the corner of your eye as the man’s free hand reached forward to grasp your own that covered your drink, and your grip around the cylinder tightened, a warning beginning to fall from your lips. But your words were cut short as the man’s hand was suddenly grabbed by familiar, long fingers and bent back at an uncomfortable angle that made the drunk cry out.

“Hey! What the hell?!” the man demanded.

Aizawa took a casual sip of his drink with his free hand while maintaining his grip on the offender, before pinning him with a dangerous glare. “She said no.”

The man’s hand left your back as he struggled to free himself from Aizawa’s grip. “Let go!”

“First you will apologize to her.” Aizawa ordered.

The man sputtered. “For what?!”

You watched in shock as Aizawa’s eyes narrowed. His thumb positioned itself on a digit and began pushing it slowly backward.

“For touching her without permission. For insinuating that her attire makes it acceptable for you to ignore her boundaries. For being a disgusting pig.”

With each statement, he pushed the finger back farther and farther, until the man was buckling to his knees under the pressure in an attempt to alleviate the pain and prevent the digit from breaking.

“Ow ow ow! Okay! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” The man begged.

Aizawa held him for a moment longer before finally releasing him. “Good. Now get out.”

The man scurried away until he was out of reach before turning around to glare daggers at him. “Hey, fuck you man!” He shouted. But for all of his drunken bravado, he stormed out of the club clutching his sore hand to his chest, as heads turned to watch him leave.

The hum of voices within the club fell silent for a moment, with only the band continuing their music. After the front door closed, the noise of people chattering slowly returned, countless sets of eyes turning back to their tables. Aizawa turned his gaze back to you, the lethal look gone from his dark eyes.

“You okay?”

You nodded mutely, swallowing the dryness in your throat as your sweaty hand released the pepper spray in your purse. Sensations warred within you, momentarily leaving you a confused mess. The speed at which he came to your defense and his willingness to resort to violence on your behalf fueled a carnal need you didn’t even realize you had. But even as hot arousal pooled deep in your gut, your heart still raced from the threat that had been quickly neutralized.

His eyes caught the movement of something over your shoulder and he cursed. “Shit.”

“SHOuTA!” Scolded a feminine voice.

He turned back to his drink, hunching his shoulders. “I told her not to call me that in public.” Aizawa muttered under his breath.

You spun on your stool to see the owner of the bar, Nemuri Kayama approaching, clad in a deep purple business suit with a dangerously low-cut black blouse. She was next to you in a matter of seconds, a cloud of strong perfume enveloping you as she snatched Aizawa’s drink from his hand as he began to raise it to his lips.

“What the hell was that?!” She demanded. “What makes you think you can attack my customers like that?”

“Your customer was harassing this customer.” Aizawa pointed out.

Nemuri looked at you with her lavender eyes as if seeing you for this first time and paused in her verbal assault.

“Is this true?” She asked you.

She had a presence about her that instantly made you find your voice again.

“He was being handsy and wasn’t taking no for an answer.” You confirmed.

“Can I have my drink back now?” Aizawa asked.

She stared back and forth between the two of you for a moment before slamming the glass down in front of him, half of the contents spilling over the side. “Ugh. Fine. But next time ask for one of my bouncers. Or Hizashi. Or me. Anyone but you.”

Aizawa’s mouth curled with a sly grin as he wiped at the spill with a napkin. “And why is that?”

“Because you scare away customers.” She growled.

Aizawa stared into his drink, swirling its remaining contents. “Well maybe you need better customers.” He took a sip.

“I’ll take whoever is willing to pay. Unfortunately for you, this club doesn’t survive off of chivalry.” She crossed her arms. “Besides… it’s less about losing that drunken idiot and more about losing those who saw you almost break his hand.”

“I wasn’t going to break his hand. I was going to break his finger.” Aizawa said.

You stifled a chuckle with a bite of your lip.

Nemuri rubbed the bridge of her nose in frustration. “Don’t try to make it sound like that makes it any better. And you!” She pointed at Hizashi, who had conveniently shown up not a minute before. “You know better than to leave him alone like this!”

“I can either be a bartender or a babysitter, love. I can’t do both.” Hizashi replied as he polished a glass.

Nemuri grumbled under her breath before turning her gaze back to you. “I apologize for Aizawa’s violent behavior.” “Oh I didn’t mind…” you confessed with a small smile, and you could feel Aizawa’s eyes flicker to you briefly.

“And I apologize for the inappropriate customer. Alcohol is no excuse for harassment. I guarantee he won’t be returning to this club any time soon.” She looked at Hizashi. “Get her a fresh drink.”

“Already on it…” He replied, sliding a new glass to you and removing your old one.

She looked back at you. “And your drinks are on the house tonight.”

“Thank you.” You replied.

Nemuri gave a satisfied nod. “Now I need to go schmooze the rest of our frightened patrons, which is exactly how I didn’t want to spend my evening.” With a final glare at the two men, she stormed off, her pointed heels clicking on the hard floor.

You stared at your new drink for a moment, the desire for it lost now. “Hizashi, can I have a glass of water?”

“Sure thing, darlin’.” Hizashi replied and placed a chilled glass in front of you.

You thanked him and took a sip followed by a long, deep breath. Aizawa moved into the now-vacant seat next to you, and you welcomed the closeness. The gesture felt protective, a warning to anyone else who was dumb enough to try their luck with you after that display. Noticing the closer proximity between the two of you, Hizashi quickly made himself scarce again.

“Thank you…” you said to Aizawa as your finger traced patterns into the condensation on the glass.

“It was nothing…” he replied. There was a long silence before he spoke again. “I hope I didn’t scare you.”

You looked at him with surprise then. Scared? No. Aroused? Definitely. The dampness of your panties were evidence enough of that, but he certainly didn’t need to know that.

“Not at all.” You confessed. “I actually really appreciate it.”

Aizawa’s shoulders relaxed slightly, as if a weight had been lifted.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” you asked. “You were so fast…”

Aizawa gave a small grin. “Piano isn’t the only thing I’m good at…”

You had no difficulty believing that…

“Were you a bouncer or something at one point?” you asked curiously.

Aizawa chuckled. “Yeah, something like that…” he took a swig of his drink, the ice in it clinking. The amber colored liquid was nearly gone now.

His response only gave you more questions, but you forced them down. There was a fine line between being curious and nosey, and you were too worried of crossing it, thus ending your conversation with him.

“You’re a regular here.” He commented.

It wasn’t a question – it was a statement. He recognized you. You averted your eyes away in embarrassment, feeling suddenly exposed, your anonymity blown. How long had he noticed you’d been coming here? Did he know how closely you watched him?

“Yeah.” You confessed, as you took another sip of water. The alcohol next to it was calling to you, promising to ease your anxiety, but you refrained for the moment. You wanted to keep your wits about you while you talked to him.

“No company tonight?” he asked.

Oh. He watched you more closely than you ever realized. You weren’t sure whether you were feeling embarrassed or aroused. Was it possible to feel both?

“Not this time. I got stood up.” You replied.

“Sounds like you dodged a bullet there.” He said, looking into his empty glass.

You gave a dry laugh. “True. I’ve dodged lots of bullets lately.”

Aizawa chuckled. “I believe it…”

Contrary to his outward aloof demeanor, he was nice. You could feel the tension in your body start to dissipate as words came easier.

“If you ever think you want to try a dating app, don’t.” you commented. “It makes for good stories, but sometimes it really makes you want to give up on humanity.”

That earned an honest laugh as he looked at you with a grin. “Well now you’ve piqued my curiosity.”

You couldn’t help but smile back. This actually wasn’t so bad…

With amusement, you began to recount some of your more outlandish dating disasters with him, letting him in on the world of online dating from a woman’s perspective. Aizawa listened with quiet interest, making the occasional wry joke or, for the more serious cases, wearing a deep frown of disapproval. He was a good listener, and the conversation flowed easier than you had expected, words falling from your mouth without a second thought. It felt natural. Comfortable. And for the first time in a while, you felt like yourself. After you ran out of stories, Aizawa offered a couple of his own, and you found yourself laughing at his own tales of dating woes. As Aizawa talked, Hizashi stopped by to quietly replace his empty drink before disappearing again, a pleased smile on his face. His brief presence reminded you of your own glass pooling condensation on the paper coaster beneath it, and you returned to sipping its contents, once again finding the buzz you had been enjoying as you listened to Aizawa.

The time passed by as the two of you talked about the stress of dating and relationships. You’d learned that Aizawa rarely dated, but would occasionally have to endure awkward matchups thanks to Hizashi and Nemuri. You learned how much of a private person he was, how he generally avoided dating culture entirely in favor of letting life play out on its own. Everything about him exuded a man of experience and maturity, a man comfortable in his own skin and content with his life. You couldn’t help but admire him as you soaked in every little detail that you’d wanted to know, committing every little bit of information he offered up to memory. He was everything you’d imagined; kind, respectful, and serious with a sly sense of humor that he only shared once he was feeling comfortable.

Once the topic was exhausted, you sighed. “I think I’m done with dating.” You confessed. “I’ll just resign myself to my singlehood.”

Aizawa pinned you with a pensive look. “Is that what you want?”

Something about the tone of his voice made your pulse race with excitement.

“Well… It’s better than being repeatedly disappointed.” You gave him a side glance as you took sip of your drink. “But if the right guy comes along, I wouldn’t say no…”

“Hm… the right guy…” Aizawa muttered as he returned his gaze to his glass.

Your statement was a bold one, filled with invitation. You hadn’t exactly planned for it to come out that way, but it was too late to take those words back now. You quickly tried to turn the topic back to him. “How about you? Any special someone for you?”

He chuckled. “No. No special someone. Not yet, at least.”

The words fell from his mouth like breadcrumbs leading to a secret as he eyed you over the rim of his glass. You felt lightheaded and warm, the tips of your fingers buzzing with numbness. Maybe it was the half-finished drink in your hand. Or maybe it was the look in Aizawa’s eyes that made you feel drunk, the Earth spinning under your feet as you mentally struggled to find some sort of purchase to keep from falling.

Was he…?

Hope held you captive and you suddenly became acutely aware of how close you were to him. Your eyes traced the scruff on his jawline, the stitching of his shirt, the slope of his neck as his Adam’s apple bobbed with a swallow. A stray strand of hair had come loose from his half-ponytail and was hanging over his forehead, begging to be touched. Your fingers twitched. If you reached out to tuck it back into place, would he let you?

You couldn’t muster the courage and averted your eyes. You were filled with alcohol and infatuation, you reasoned. Your defenses were down, your judgment potentially impaired… what if you were reading into something that wasn’t there? What if you were wrong?

You watched Hizashi close out a tab for an older couple as you took a sip of your water.

Warmth pressed against your forearm and looked down to see Aizawa’s arm resting against yours. All of your attention honed in on the softness of his shirtsleeve and the warmth of his skin as his hand fiddled with a paper coaster, flipping it over and over with each tap on the counter. The contact was intentional, calculated in its subtle intimacy. It was a silent question… a tentative invitation, absent of assumptions or expectations. Your doubt evaporated like mist and you understood.

He was interested. In you.

Your heart did a somersault in your chest as you sat there, stunned. Time froze as everything that’d transpired throughout the evening flitted through your mind. It was a perfect amalgamation of circumstances, leading to this single moment, giving you the one thing you wanted most. You held your breath as you stood on the precipice, uncertain if your next step would make you fall or let you fly.

You stared at the contact and carefully… slowly… brushed your pinky along the back of his hand. It traced the vein that stood out there, following it to the knuckle. His own hand let go of the coaster his was holding, his own pinky linking with yours in affirmation.

You couldn’t help the elated smile that spread across your face in that moment and when you looked up at him with a shy glance, he had a smile of his own, small and secretive as he stared at your linked fingers. Slowly the rest of his fingers followed, twining themselves into yours until he held your hand, his thumb brushing sensually against your skin. That single action alone was enough to reignite the fire in your loins, your blood racing through your veins from the epicenter of his touch.

Hizashi’s voice crashed through your private, titillating moment. “We’re closing up, lovebirds…”

Your hand pulled away from Aizawa’s on instinct as you looked around the now empty club. Only staff remained, finalizing the last bit of cleanup and arranging the furniture for the next day. How had it gotten so late so fast?

“You want me to walk you to your car?” Hizashi asked, a knowing grin on his face.

In all that had happened that evening, you’d forgotten about that little arrangement. But you weren’t ready to leave just yet…

Aizawa’s voice answered before yours could. “Leave me the keys to the place. I’ll walk her tonight and lock up when we leave.”

“Suit yourself.” Hizashi replied with a shrug. He placed a set of keys on the counter. “Don’t tell Nemuri, though. She’ll kill me.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, friend.” Aizawa replied.

With that, Hizashi gave a small salute, grabbed his coat, and left. You watched, your heart pounding as the door closed behind him, leaving a deafening silence in its wake.

You were alone with Aizawa. Completely and utterly alone.

Your turned back to face him and froze. Aizawa still sat on his stool, but he faced you now with an elbow propped against the counter, and that simple distinction made his presence fill your space. He stared at you, the look in his eyes unfettered now, deep and hungry. “You really do look beautiful tonight.” He complimented.

With the way the words fell from his mouth and curled warmly into your chest like a cat, you believed him. You felt beautiful.

“Thank you.” You said with a soft smile. “You look handsome yourself, Aizawa.”

He took your hand again and slowly began to lean forward, closing the small distance between you. “Call me Shouta.”

You swallowed. “Shouta.” You whispered, feeling the name on your lips.

His dark pupils dilated and you felt his other hand on your jawline, warm, long fingers wrapping towards the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss.

His lips were warm and soft as his stubble tickled your skin, and you leaned into it fervently, your hands finding their home on his chest. You could feel his toned muscles beneath the black cotton and a purr found its way to the back of your throat. Shouta took it as an invitation, coming off of his barstool to stand between your now parted legs, his arm wrapping itself around your waist as his tongue slid along your lips. You opened your mouth eagerly to taste the bourbon there, to feel the wet muscle dance and slide against your own. Every touch, every taste, every smell enveloped you further and further in the essence that was Shouta until your entire body was singing, teetering on the edge.

Oh God… you were not going to let yourself cum just by kissing him.

You pulled out of the kiss slightly as your hands pressed gently against his chest, and he retreated from you just enough for his eyes to search your face, a silent question in them.

“I-I’m sorry, I just…” your words fell pitifully from your flushed, wet mouth, your voice shaky with pent-up arousal.

One second longer. One second longer is all it would have taken…

Shouta’s hand on your back began to rub soft, slow circles. “Would you like some water?” he asked, a small smile on his lips.

You nodded, and he kissed your forehead before handing you your glass. You drank greedily before handing it back to him, half-empty.

“Have you ever been kissed like that?” he asked curiously, as he placed the glass back down onto the counter.

You gave a small laugh and shook your head. “No… not like that.”

Your confession left you feeling embarrassed, even as your chest felt it would burst from this latest turn of events.

You kissed Aizawa Shouta.

Actually, he kissed you.

You needed a moment to collect yourself, to process everything you were feeling.

So, you completely changed the subject.

“How long have you been playing piano?” you asked.

Shouta didn’t miss a beat, returning to sit on his stool to give you the space you silently needed. But his hand still held yours, resting on the counter as his fingers twined with yours. It gave you a sense of reassurance, that everything was okay, despite your awkward hesitation.

“My grandpa had one when I was a kid. Used to mess around on it.” He explained. “He finally got me lessons from a guy he knew, and I’ve loved it ever since.”

You smiled as you watched his thumb trace across each of your fingernails. You returned the gesture, tracing the details of his own hand. It was like living a dream, to see them up close and feel them, every fingernail, every vein, even the pads of his fingertips. The number of times you’d fantasized about these hands…

“I always wanted to learn how to play, but my family could never afford lessons.” You confessed. “But my mom used to have all of these old jazz albums, and I used to sit in my room and listen to them for hours.”

“I can teach you.”

Your fingers stopped their tracing. “What?”

“I can teach you.” He repeated.

You shook your head. “Um, no it’s okay… I’d probably be a terrible student anyway.”

“A student can only be as bad as the person teaching them. Follow me.”

Before you could protest further, Shouta’s hand closed around yours and pulled you from your seat. He led you up the steps of the stage and across it until you reached the black piano sitting forlornly in the empty space.

It felt strange being up on the stage, especially with the club being completely empty. The stage light was bright and warm on your shoulders, and the silence sounded different there, affected by the difference in acoustics.

Shouta sat at one end of the black bench and pulled you down by your hand until you were sitting next to him. The bench was small, meant for only one person, so you had to press yourself against him to be able to sit without feeling like you were going to fall off. Even then, it wasn’t the most comfortable arrangement, but you endured, if only to be close to him.

He released your hand and began his instruction.

“First thing you should know is how to find middle C. Everything else will center around this.” He pressed the white key with the thumb of his right hand, the note singing out into the empty space. “Then, it’s D, E, F, G, A, B, which brings you back to C. That creates an octave, also known as a scale.” He played each note as he spoke.

“What about the black keys?” you asked curiously.

“Those are the half notes. Don’t worry about those right now.” He arranged his hand back how he initially had it, his thumb on the middle C key.

“Now,” he continued, “First, you must learn how to move your fingers along the keys. Like this.” Shouta demonstrated the motion again, his fingers playing each note slowly in a steady rhythm. “The switch of the fingers is important. It will help you flow quickly and easily without having to watch where your hands are, which will be important for reading sheet music.” He repeated the motion again, the sounds once again ringing out. Then, he removed his hand. “Your turn.”

You bit your lip and placed your hand how you’d seen his arranged and tried. The notes were clumsy, lacking in rhythm and falling together as you forgot in your nervous haze where the switch of the fingers happened. Embarrassment flooded you and you withdrew your hand.

“Don’t expect to get it right on the first try.” He reassured. “Let’s try it again. Try to keep your fingers loose, curved like a bowl.”

Shouta modeled it again. You watched, but your focus was muddled with anxiety, attraction, and likely alcohol. It was a poor recipe for learning, but you knew he was trying to make you feel comfortable, and you didn’t want to turn down his kindness. You arranged your hand back on the keys again and tried again, with little improvement.

“I’m sorry, I…” you stuttered as you clutched your hand in your lap protectively.

His hand covered yours and you looked up at him to see him staring at you with warm patience. “It’s okay. If you don’t want to do this, we can stop.”

You stared at him, mouth slightly open as you thought about it. You knew he wouldn’t hold it against you if you wanted to quit. And sure, you felt silly being so poor at it when sitting next to someone who’s skills you idolized.

But did you really want to stop? How often would you get an opportunity like this?

“No, it’s okay. Keep going, I want to learn.” You replied.

Shouta watched you for a moment longer before he placed his hand back on the keys. “Place your hand over mine.”

You followed his instructions, your hand looking small compared to his. His skin was warm, and it calmed the shaking in your fingers.

“Watch where the fingers land. Feel how they move.” He played the notes, and you could feel the tendons of his hand tense and shift, his fingers rising and falling like a wave.

“It’s like they’re dancing.” You said. “You switch to your thumb on this key… E?”

“Yes.” Shouta replied in approval. “Your turn.”

This time you focused, remembering the feel of how his hand had moved under yours as you played the keys, switching your fingers at the right time. The improvement was noticeable.

He smiled. “Good. Now, for the other hand. You’ll start one octave lower. Can you find it?”

Your arm crossed Aizawa’s chest to press the white key, letting the sound ring out.

“Perfect. Only this time, your pinky will sit on this key, with the others following after.”

You placed your fingers across the white keys. “Like this?”

Shouta nodded. “Now you’ll try the same progression with your left hand. The middle finger will follow after the thumb plays the G note.”

You removed your hand so he could place his own and demonstrate it for you. You followed after him, imitating his actions, but this time your attempt was worse than your first, your hand angled awkwardly due to limited space as you pressed yourself against him.

“That was terrible.” You laughed. “I can’t reach very easily.”

A small mischievous smile formed on Shouta’s lips and he slipped his hand around your waist.

“Come here.” He said.

You didn’t fight him as he pulled you into his lap. His right hand settled itself against your stomach as his legs parted slightly to make room for yours, your knees drawn together between his. The heat of his touch seeped through the fabric of your dress, weaving a tight knot of desire deep in your core that made your body go rigid as you tried to keep yourself from melting against him.

“Is this okay?” He asked, leaning slightly to see your face from his position behind you.

You licked your lips and swallowed, giving a nod. “Y-Yes…” you answered shakily. “Are you okay…? I’m not too heavy?”

Shouta gave a soft laugh. “No. Not at all.” His breath was hot against your skin and you could feel the scratch of his stubble as he spoke, sending goosebumps over your body. “Let’s continue.”

He placed his left hand on the keys again with ease, regardless of how poor his view of the piano was with you in front of him. He knew this instrument like the back of his hand; could probably play it with his eyes closed and never miss a note.

He played the simple notes again, C through B, fingers tip-toeing across the keys as he said their names out loud, helping you to remember them. You watched carefully for where the shift in finger arrangement happened, the middle finger following after the thumb just as he’d described.

“You try.” He instructed, his right arm still wrapped around your waist, holding you close against him. You could feel the warmth of his chest against your back now, feel the strength of his body beneath you.

You loved this. The lap-sitting, the lesson, the praise. Each time Shouta praised your improvements it sent a thrill through you from your head down to your toes. To be complimented by him, even for something as simple as pressing a few keys… it only made you want to please him more.

You played the progression of notes with renewed motivation, once again showing improvement from your first attempt.

“Good.”

Your spine straightened against him slightly. The thumb of his hand caressed your abdomen where he held you.

“Now you need to learn to do the same but in reverse, until you’re back where your fingers started.”

You moved your hand away to let him demonstrate and his right hand left your stomach, leaving an ache in its wake. You watched both of his hands play the simple notes up and down, working together with ease. But you knew it was all a ruse… he made it look easy, but if you tried to do the same, you’d fumble clumsily.

“I don’t know about this…” you chuckled.

“It takes practice,” he replied, “until it becomes muscle memory.”

Shouta demonstrated it again, up and down. And again.

You placed your hands over his, wanting to feel the touch of his hands under yours more than the actual pressing of the keys. All you wanted was his arm around your waist again, his hand on your lower abdomen. His touch was tantalizing, and you wanted more of it.

He completed the simple scale progression two more times with your hands on top of his.

“Do you want to try?” he offered.

His hands left the keys to hold you again, his arms wrapped more tightly around you this time. You leaned against him, reveling in being held in his arms.

“I’m going to mess up.” You warned.

“Just take it slow.”

You shook your head a little and let out a small breath, shifting your position in his lap slightly as you leaned forward to focus on the keys. His arms loosened around you, his hands shifting to your thighs.

It was likely an innocent action, intended to give you the freedom to move as you made yourself comfortable. But as soon as the tips of his fingers touched the bare skin below the hem of your dress, that sharp zap of arousal tingled the ends of your nerves, causing you to suck in air and part your knees slightly, your walls throbbing in hopeful anticipation.

It wasn’t intentional. Your body just… reacted. But Shouta noticed instantly.

There was silence at first, his hands still on your thighs, waiting. Finally, he spoke. “Y/N….” his voice was huskier now. “How long has it been since you’ve been cared for?”

Embarrassment flooded through you. Embarrassment at your sensitivity to his touch, embarrassment at the answer to his question... You hesitated a moment before words fell clumsily from your mouth. “I, um… a long time.”

A low hum rumbled from Shouta’s chest as his fingers brushing gently along the inside of your thighs until they dipped just beneath the black fabric. The action was experimental, a testing of the waters, and it brought immediate results. Your thighs widened the slightest bit more as you failed to fight back a whimper, your hands grasping his arms in need. Not a moment later you could feel the growing firmness of his cock begin to press against your backside, despite the restriction of Shouta’s jeans. Shouta’s hands halted again their movement, waiting. He was miraculously under control despite his obvious arousal, and you envied him.

“Do you want me to touch you?” he asked, his voice low.

Of course you did. It was obvious you did. Why else would your legs be parting like the red sea as if he were Moses?

But for some reason, your body language wasn’t enough for him. He needed to hear it. A sense of urgency filled you, desperate need driving you. At this point, you’d give him whatever he wanted…

“Yes.” you begged. “Please, Shouta... Please touch me.” You leaned back against him, allowing the angle of your hips to tilt as your hands guided him further beneath the skirt of your dress.

With you draped onto him, your head tilted back, Shouta kissed the curve of your neck as his hands gently gripped the insides of your knees, pulling your legs apart until they were draped over his own. You were open for him now, your skirt hiked halfway up by the spread of your legs.

Your heart pounded in your chest with so much excitement that you could feel your own pulse in your neck and between your legs. This was happening… This was really happening… How many times had you fantasized about this very thing? How many times had you longed for this man, whispered his name on your tongue only to be met by the empty silence? And now here he was, freeing you from the shackles of your loneliness in the best way possible.

Shouta’s hands pushed the fabric up the rest of the way until it was pooled around your hips, exposing your panties. The thin cotton fabric did little to protect your aching cunt from the cold air, and you sucked air through your teeth at the sensation. His fingers traced invisible lines up the inside of your thighs, leaving nothing but singing nerves in their wake that cascaded into a shiver that rolled over your flesh, leaving goosebumps. Your body was already moving of its own volition, hips rolling, eager for Shouta’s fingers yet simultaneously attempting to grind down onto his restrained cock. Your breaths were already coming in hot and ragged, every inch of you frantic for the release that it had been denied all evening.

Shouta gave a low growl, his left hand holding down your hip, halting your movements. “You better stop that…” he warned.

No doubt your girating was making things difficult for him on his end. But you didn’t care. You were an unfettered, horny mess now.

A whine escaped your lips at his restriction. In response, Shouta’s left hand trailed up the length of your body, caressing over your breast before finding its home on your neck. His palm was against your voice box now, his fingers long enough to wrap around your throat and reach your jaw. There was no force in his hold, but it still held power over you, ushering your body into stillness while your chest heaved with heavy breaths.

“Patience.” He whispered. “Let me take care of you.”

Shouta followed up his words with more gentle kisses along your neck, your shoulder… wherever his lips could reach with you on his lap. The feel of his hand on your throat was a reminder of who was in control. But it was also a promise - a promise to ensure your needs would be met.

Once Shouta was sure he had your compliance, his right hand travelled the remaining distance of your inner thigh to arrive at your panties, where moist heat greeted him.

A low hum of approval rumbled in his chest, vibrating against your back. “You’re so wet.”

A pitiful “yes” was all you could muster before the tips of his fingers brushed gently against your clothed sex, stealing your voice and replacing it with a gasp.

Slowly Shouta pet you, his fingers stroking gentle circles over the wet cotton, teasing the sensitive flesh beneath. With his hand still on your neck, you kept your body torturously motionless as he gradually increased the pressure of his digits, reducing his speed as he passed over your clit to drag the pads of his fingers over the bundle of nerves.

You swallowed the pooling saliva in your mouth, the action causing your throat to press against his hand. “Please…” you begged. “I can’t…”

Shouta was strict, but not cruel. He obliged, slipping his fingers beneath the cotton to swim his digits into your juices, never breaking his circular, rhythmic motion over your slick entrance. The scent of your arousal surrounded both of you, thick and heavy.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he growled against your skin.

Two of his fingers dipped into you then, slow at first, allowing you to stretch around him as your walls quivered. Your thighs tensed at the intrusion, welcoming the stinging pressure as your core burned with fire. He withdrew his fingers slowly and you lifted your head to watch in carnal fascination to see his fingers shining wet down to the knuckles. He pushed them into you again, curling his fingers towards the sensitive, spongey tissue along the top of your walls, his thumb pressing down on your wet clit. A zap of stimulation fired from your core before fizzling away, a teasing warning of what was to come.

“Oh-Oh fuck…” you gasped as one hand reached back and grabbed a fistful of Shouta’s thick, dark hair.

He picked up his pace then, his thumb driving firm circles around your swollen pearl as the sounds of your wet hole being finger-fucked filled the silence of the empty stage. With each pass of his thumb, with each curl of his fingers, the heat grew hotter, your cunt swollen and burning with the need for release. Your thighs were tensed so tightly now that it made your legs lift and you had to brace your feet against the piano, discordant notes ringing out to join the sounds of your heavy pants and wet squelching in a lewd song. Shouta’s hand left your throat to hold you under your thigh to keep you steady as his other hand worked fast and hard to unravel you. With the absence of his touch on your neck, you were free to move your hips, grinding hard into his hand, his lap, whatever part of him you were touching. Your grip on his hair tightened, mirroring the tension building within you, clinging to him like the boughs of a tree knowing that any second the flood would come.

Shouta was your lifeline, your rock, your destroyer. You were the waves and he was the shore, and your body tensed to prepare itself to crash against him.

“Come on, baby…” Shouta whispered gruffly. “I’ve got you. Cum for me.”

You came with a cry, loud and frantic as your walls clamped down on his fingers. The ball of heat that you had been carrying like a stone exploded within you, incinerating every nerve from the inside out, leaving nothing but sweet, sharp, euphoria in its wake. Your walls spasmed repeatedly, sucking greedily on Shouta’s drenched fingers, as you cried and moaned, bucked and arched. Shouta’s arm was around your waist, holding you against him to keep you from sliding off of his lap as you rode the high of your orgasm, tumbling like a waterfall over and over again to finally become a puddle in his strong arms.

Shouta held you silently against him as your body twitched with aftershocks of pleasure. Once your spasms subsided and he was sure you wouldn’t fall from your perch, Shouta released his hold around your waist to draw his fingers up and down your arm, creating goosebumps under his gentle touch. His fingers were still in you, his hand cupped between your legs. The warmth of his touch on your tired cunt was comforting, and it brought forth a content moan from your parted lips. Shouta smiled as he planted another kiss on your shoulder.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that with him. But you finally made yourself sit up when you felt sleep starting to drag you down into its murky depths, your limbs feeling heavy.

Finally, Shouta spoke. “Better?” he asked.

You gave a laugh. “Much.” You looked down at yourself in amusement. “You made a mess of me, though…”

Shouta gave a satisfied hum and stared at his hand that held you. “I like you messy.” He stated.

“So, you’re just gonna leave me like this?” you teased.

He laughed and withdrew his fingers, wiping the slick coating them onto his jeans. “As much as I like that idea, no.” He adjusted your ruined underwear and the hem of your dress back into place before turning you around in his lap. His hands were planted on your rear, keeping you securely and comfortably in place. “It’s late. We should get you home.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. “What about you?” you asked, your eyes glancing down to his lap. Your hands began to trail down his chest to reach the button of his pants, eager to reciprocate.

Shouta smiled at you and grabbed your hands, bringing them back up to plant kisses on your palms. “Tonight was about you. There’ll be more opportunities for both of us later.” You pouted and he chuckled. “Don’t give me that face.”

“It hardly seems fair…” you muttered. You were looking forward to enjoying more of him… you didn’t want tonight to end.

He hummed as he began to trail kisses along your jawline and you arched your neck to allow him better access. “We both… need sleep.”

Sleep? With his mouth on your skin, sleep was the last thing on your mind. Shouta pulled his lips away to look into your eyes again and you could see the fatigue there, dark circles framing bloodshot eyes. He really did look incredibly tired, and you couldn’t help but wonder how late it really was. You brushed the errant strand of hair off of his forehead, tucking it behind his ear.

“Okay...” you softly agreed.

“You should come back tomorrow night.” He mused, the mischief back in his eyes. “We can continue our piano lessons.”

“I’d like that.” you smiled.

You couldn’t wait.

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