#Accurate Formulation | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pin-k-ink · 5 months

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spring loaded // kita shinsuke

tw ⇢ kita is a student council member, sexual tension, grinding, making out, cunnilingus, hate sex, rough sex, biting, marking, name calling, manhandling, unprotected sex, overstimulation, semi public sex

wc ⇢ 6.2k

a/n: i’ve no idea how a student council works because we don’t have that here. so i just write whatever i felt like was correct

The weighted silence in the student council room felt charged enough to combust as Kita Shinsuke's piercing gaze bored into you from across the table, daring you to meet his stare.

You refused to be the one to blink first, keeping your features carefully composed despite the electric tingle thrumming beneath your skin whenever he settled that hooded, assessing look upon you. From the stark furrow of Kita's brow to the austere line of his mouth, his whole countenance radiated an intensity verging on confrontational.

Which was utterly baffling, considering the inanity of your current debate. You'd been going back and forth for what felt like hours over something as mundane as finalizing the budgetary allocation for the school's various clubs and sports teams. A topic that should have remained impersonal and clinical in discussion.

Yet with Kita as your opposition, even the most trivial administrative matters seemed to transform into a battle of wits and wills heavily laden with unspoken undercurrents. As if he took perverse delight in needling you over irrelevant minutiae just to study the sparks of agitation he could ignite behind your eyes.

"That figures simply cannot be accurate," Kita's crisp baritone sliced through the weighty quiet with surgical precision. "Clearly there's been an errant calculation made in funding distribution that skews the proportions unfairly."

You had to resist the urge to grit your teeth at his oh-so-casual insinuation of oversight on your part. Forcing yourself to meet that turbulent stare brimming with challenge, you enunciated clearly.

"I can assure you the numbers are triple-verified, Kita-san. Down to the last decimal point, as is protocol." You refused to rise to his barefaced provocation this time. "Unless you have a specific line item you'd like me to revisit?"

The muscle feathered along Kita's jawline told you he registered the thinly veiled rebuke in your composed tome. One corner of his perpetually downturned mouth seemed to twitch infinitesimally before he replied.

"Very well. If you insist the figures are beyond reproach, I'll simply defer to your...expertise on financial matters."

The way his gaze streaked overtly down the length of your body accompanied that final word before slowly ascending back to lock with yours. There was no mistaking the heated emphasis underlying the otherwise innocuous statement, or the undercurrent abruptly simmering in the space between you.

You forgot to breathe for a suspended heartbeat, mesmerized in a way you couldn't quite define by the heated intensity simmering behind Kita's pewter stare. Then the moment passed as he shifted imperceptibly, leaving you off-kilter and strangely...flushed with wayward energy.

"That said," Kita continued in a tone that could have stripped varnish, "based on my own analysis of the numbers, our volleyball program still seems to have been shortchanged on projected equipment and travel expenses for the upcoming semester."

Before you could even formulate a rebuttal, his palm slapped a sheaf of documents down atop the budget report with decisive force.

"I took the liberty of revising a few line items, reallocating whatever frivolous overages I could identify." Those gunmetal irises sliced into you with blistering emphasis. "You're welcome to review them and advocate for restoration of any expenditures you feel are indispensable, of course."

You opened your mouth to berate him for his typical high-handedness, but Kita simply leveled you with that hawkish, vivisecting look that somehow rendered you temporarily inert. Like a small prey creature having its innards laid open with scientific detachment for study.

"However..." He went on without awaiting dismissal. "I trust these revised projections will meet with the esteemed student council's approval, as they represent the most logical path forward for apportioning our resources effectively."

With a pointed dip of his chin, Kita slid the stack of modified documents across the table's glossy surface until they landed perfectly parallel before your frantically spiraling thoughts. For one hazy, dizzying instant, you caught another glimpse of that banked mercurial spark searing behind his pale stare.

And despite yourself, despite the countless similar petty needlings that prefaced this latest encounter...you felt a delirious slither of unfurling heat low in your abdomen at whatever unspoken challenge burned behind Kita's inscrutable countenance this time.

No matter how often you and Kita clashed over trivial administrative matters, the tension between you two always simmered with thrilling undercurrents you couldn't quite define. What should have been dry, impersonal discussions somehow transmuted into thick, electrically-charged atmospheres anytime he settled that piercing stare upon you.

Like the day you were compiling materials for the upcoming assembly in one of the empty classrooms after hours. So absorbed in cross-checking your notes that you didn't realize you weren't alone until Kita's crisp baritone sliced through the weighted quiet.

"Burning the midnight oil again, I see."

You startled slightly at his unexpected presence before forcing nonchalance. "Kita-san. I could say the same about you lurking around at this hour."

Rather than rising to your barbed tone, Kita simply shrugged one lean shoulder as he prowled further into the room. "Merely ensuring preparations are continuing on schedule, as is my duty."

There was something about the way he said that last part - husking it out in his low register while holding your stare hostage. As if the words themselves were laden with undercurrents his placid expression didn't betray. You had to tear your eyes away before your mind wandered in unprofessional directions.

"Yes, well..." You cleared your throat in a bid for steadiness. "I can assure you I have everything perfectly under control on this end."

"Do you?" Kita didn't miss a beat, tone taking on a weighted edge that raised delicious little chill-trails across your nape. Then he was suddenly looming over you, solid chest bisecting your space as one lean arm extended to tap the sheaf of agenda notes before you. "Then you'll want to revisit the agenda sequence here..."

You forgot to breathe for a suspended beat at the overwhelming closeness of Kita's body, the clean, earthy tang of his cologne fogging your senses in delirious waves. Heat prickled outwards as his proximity allowed you to take in all the subtleties of his physicality - lean musculature carved in elegant planes, hair perfectly coiffed, slender throat exposed by his open collar.

Swallowing hard, you dragged your traitorous focus to where his index finger rested, tamping down an errant shiver as you registered the feather-soft rasp of his knuckles grazing your forearm.

"No issues, Kita-san," you grated, silently willing your vocal cords not to betray the maelstrom of sensation spooling through you in waves. "That sequence of events is set exactly how I intended based on scheduled timing between segments."

A pause, thick and elecrically weighted. Then Kita leaned fractionally closer, face angling in your periphery until you could feel the humid torrent of his even breaths ghosting across your nape in tandem with the graze of his large palm settling over your knuckles.

"Perhaps..." He murmured at last, graveled timbre pitched to detonate in molten entreaty against your nerve-endings. "Perhaps you should take a breath and reexamine with fresh eyes, hmm? It's not good to rush and mess up all the hard work you've done so far..."

With exquisite slowness and purpose, Kita's fingertips began mapping delicious paths across the bare inward curve of your wrist where your sleeves ended. Following the thrumming path of your racing pulse with merciless precision as your entire body detonated into high-alert at his proximity.

"Something...to consider, President." He punctuated the softly murmured suggestion with the barest graze of teeth scoring along the fragile cup of your inner wrist, just below your leaping heartbeat.

You inhaled a sharp breath despite willing your lungs to remain steady, abruptly enveloped in the intoxicating maelstrom of Kita Shinsuke's body surrounding yours. His solid torso pressed against your back as he leaned over you was suddenly the only coherent point of gravity remaining in your short-circuiting consciousness.

Just as abruptly as the torturous intimacy commenced, Kita extracted himself from your personal space with that same maddeningly unhurried grace. Leaving you sagging dizzily over the table strewn with notes, head spinning from the disorienting whiplash as ambient reality slammed back into focus.

"Well then, I'll leave you to your...preparations," Kita remarked as he slid out of striking range once more. That calm, unruffled mien firmly back in place, not a single ripple marring the austere lines of his impassive features beyond the gleam of challenge burning in his pale stare.

Head buzzing with white-noise static, you somehow found the wherewithal to nod in numb acknowledgment as he made his exit. Though not before Kita tossed one last quietly insinuative murmur over the taut line of his shoulder:

"Do let me know if you require my...intimate counsel on any other agenda items before the assembly, President."

No matter how innocuous the setting or agenda item up for discussion, Kita always seemed to find a way to needle you until the atmosphere thickened with unresolved tension. You lost count of how many meetings devolved from productive dialogue into protracted staring contests - his pale, piercing gaze clashing against your own in silent challenge.

Until the slightest tonal emphasis or loaded innuendo from Kita's deceptively mild countenance had your senses catalyzing into high-alert without any overt physical provocation required. Your circadian rhythms seemed to attune themselves around whatever frequency he gave off until resentment and longing blurred into an inextricable dissonance.

It all came combustibly to a head during one marathon student council session debating adjustments for the upcoming cultural festival. What should have been a straightforward agenda swiftly derailed into yet another nitpicking exercise under Kita's scrutiny.

"This proposed stage layout is wildly impractical," he intoned without preamble, slicing through the tranquil murmurs around the table. "The sightlines from these audience positions will be unacceptably compromised."

You bristled at the derision loaded into his statement despite the bland delivery, hackles raising. "The sightlines have been carefully calculated and approved by school administration, Kita-san. I assure you, the layout is optimized for attendee visibility."

Kita's jaw tightened infinitesimally, the only betraying tic before he spoke again around the weighted pause. "Then I must object to the administration's mathematical competencies, President. Any observer would be hard-pressed to enjoy performances from these points."

Heat began sparking treacherously low in your belly despite willing every hormone into submission. The way his gaze needled yours made you feel like a science project splayed on the examination table for detached scrutiny.

"As I said, visibility has been confirmed as adequate," you attempted to dismiss his objection with an air of unruffled composure. "Perhaps if you reviewed the fully annotated schematics instead of cherry-picking sparse details, you wouldn't be so hasty with misguided critiques."

Around the oblong table, assorted club representatives and administrators shifted uncomfortably at the open animosity thickening the atmosphere. But Kita either didn't register or refused to yield the pointed intensity ratcheting up between you.

"Trust me, I've reviewed every last ludicrous detail in your 'meticulous' planning packet," he rejoined without missing a beat. Then those pale, turbulent irises streaked down your frame before ascending in a carnal sweep that ignited your senses into a molten feedback loop.

"If you'll recall, I made numerous notations regarding suggested corrections within those materials, none of which seemed to have been implemented based on this..." His fingertips trailed along the sheaf of documents arrayed before him with pointed nonchalance before tapping the stage layout critique. "...latest set of notes."

You sucked in a sharp inhale at the lingering heat imparted by his deliberately provocative regard. Determined not to shrivel beneath the scorching weight of it, you willed your features into an expression of cool disregard rather than flustered capitulation.

Rapping your knuckles once against the tabletop in a measured rebuke, you refused to so much as blink as your rebuttal emerged in clipped precision: "While I appreciate your...passion for optimization, Kita-san, I won't have you hijacking productive council discussions just to indulge your own pet nitpicks over work that's already been comprehensively reviewed and approved."

The resulting silence bordered on obscene, both of your expressions chiseled into neutral masks even as the electricity between your unyielding stares threatened to buckle the foundations. Kita broke first - but only to dip his chin in a subtle nod, one corner of his mouth twitching upwards into what could almost be interpreted as smirk.

"Of course..." He practically purred the acquiescence, sending depravity licking along your nerve endings despite his tone remaining decidedly mild. Then that pale, vivisecting gaze darkened with banked promise as Kita maintained weighty emphasis.

"Though whether or not you ultimately implement my impassioned adjustments, it seems prudent I continue voicing any...intimate observations pertaining to your procedural proposals. For the sake of meticulous oversight, naturally."

Your nails dug into the soft leather of your chair's armrests beneath the table, thighs clenching against a delirious spiral of dark yearning at the naked intimacy he somehow managed to bleed into an otherwise innocuous statement.

"Naturally," you echoed in a strained rasp, silently willing your feet to remain anchored despite every instinct suddenly screaming to flee the magnetic pull of Kita's influence before it dragged you into uncharted depths below.

His slow, weighted blink of faux-innocence told you he'd registered your restraint fraying audibly in that one tremulous utterance. As the council reconvened around you, Kita remained locked in blatantly pointed contemplation as if determining where best to slip the razor's edge of his next precision strike.

The pointed sparring between you and Kita rapidly escalated beyond mere loaded words and heated stares into something far more overtly provocative. As if some vital tether had snapped, rendering you both powerless against the raging undercurrents of tension steadily cresting between you.

Take the afternoon you'd stopped by the gymnasium to confirm details for an upcoming pep rally, only to find the cavernous space already occupied. Kita and his teammates were in the midst of grueling reception drills, sweat-slicked bodies moving in rhythmic unison across the hardwood.

You faltered in the entrance, instantly transfixed despite your best attempts at nonchalance. There was something almost hypnotic about watching the flexing, rippling muscles shifting beneath strapped compression gear as the athletes launched themselves around the court. But it was Kita's lithe, almost feral form that catalyzed a delirious storm of heated prickles streaking through you in waves.

The captain barked out a crisp order, sending his underlings scattering into new formations as he prowled the sidelines with that patented intensity. You couldn't tear your rapt attention away from the mesmerizing, almost predatory grace of his movements as those lean muscles bunched and released beneath his sleeveless jersey.

Kita halted mid-prowl as another powerful spike collided squarely with his reception. Absorbing the force with seemingly effortless poise, he pivoted towards you at the last second - eyes immediately snagging your dumbstruck gaze from across the vaulted space in a heated collision.

The world seemed to condense down to that single point of smoldering contact as Kita remained frozen for a suspended beat, chest heaving with exertion. You could almost taste the heady tang of his sweat saturating the charged atmosphere, jumpstarting your senses into riotous overdrive despite the distance between you.

Then Kita's tongue swept out in one unhurried sweep to moisten his lower lip and you were utterly, viscerally transfixed. Every molecule abruptly attuned to the elegant stretch of corded tendons, the hypnotic sheen of perspiration gilding his form, the predatory arch of those slanted eyes boring into you until the entire tableau felt like a brand searing itself into your unreliable psyche.

You couldn't even force your gaze elsewhere, overwhelmed by the phantom imprint of Kita's hooded stare streaking over your body in one scorching, proprietary sweep. Until the low, measured cadences of his gruff voice sawed through the maelstrom spiraling your senses into overload.

"Something I can...assist you with, President?"

Ambient noise came crashing back in technicolor cataclysm as Kita's question seemed to reverberate through the very marrow of your bones. His teammates had frozen mid-drill, staring between the two of you with comically transparent bewilderment as the tensions went unacknowledged but dauntingly tangible.

Your tongue felt leaden, mouth as dry and viscous as cotton wadding despite your efforts to recover some fragment of composure beneath the weight of that blazing scrutiny. Kita prowled closer, unhurried and predatory - until you swore you could feel the scorching heat radiating off the bunched musculature left glistening and exposed by his jersey's open collar.

"My, my..." He practically purred in that resonant timbre edged with dark sin. "So captivated already, and I'm only just getting warmed up for you..."

This time when that hooded, canine stare tracked down the length of your body, Kita didn't even attempt to mask his unhurried debauch. You stood rooted to the varnished floorboards, a live-wire of sensation burrowing treacherously outward as moist lips curved in the faintest suggestion of a leer.

"Well then, President..." That molten timbre caressed the honorific like one would relish a profanity falling sinfully free. "Allow me to put on a proper display showcasing my...skills and talents. Just for your viewing pleasure, hmm?"

With that husked promise dangling between you like a garrotte tightening around your every scattered impulse to flee, Kita spun away to rejoin the practice. But not before searing you one last weighted look - one that brazenly insinuated the deliberate narrative awaiting further exploration between your dually-bared forms.

Just like that, you were instantly, irretrievably captivated. Despite the spectacle unfolding before you, behind your raptured stare the only thought taking screaming root now was:

What else could this elemental feral creature so blithely take from you if given the chance...and would you let him?

It became increasingly difficult to maintain any veneer of professionalism whenever you and Kita occupied the same space. What should have been productive meetings or cordial planning sessions rapidly devolved into charged battlefields of heated looks and weighted innuendo.

As if some tenuous tether had finally snapped, rendering you both powerless against the rising tide of heated tensions crackling in the air whenever your eyes met. No matter how benign the topic up for discussion, that delirious, molten attraction always threatened to overwhelm and swallow you whole without preamble.

That day you'd called an emergency student council session to address concerns over the cultural festival's opening ceremonies running too long. What began as a pragmatic conversation about trimming excessive performances rapidly derailed the instant Kita strode through the door with that peerless intensity radiating off him in waves.

"--which is why I recommend we cut at least three acts from the lineup to stay on schedule," you addressed the assembly without preamble, determined to project an air of unruffled authority.

Unfortunately, Kita chose that precise moment to settle into the seat directly across from you, slouching indolently as pale eyes slammed into yours with the visceral impact of a bullet train's collision. You faltered infinitesimally despite yourself, briefly rendered inert beneath the naked weight of his stare before rallying onward.

"Unless...there are any other suggestions to streamline things?" You arched one brow in the vaguest of challenges.

A protracted beat passed, electrically charged and vibrating. Then Kita allowed his tongue to sweep out and trace the plump contours of his lower lip before replying in that endlessly unraveling rasp.

"As a matter of fact...I do have a few impassioned 'suggestions' for maximizing efficiency and impact, President."

The husked emphasis he placed on your honorific this time went straight to your core, igniting fissures of heat that threatened to unravel your composure completely. Deliberately tamping down the delirious spiral of yearning, you responded in as bland a tone as you could muster.

"I'm listening, Kita-san. Though perhaps we could table the distracting commentary for now and stay on task?"

Rather than looking chastised, Kita's lips seemed to twitch upwards in the barest hint of smirk even as a muscle ticked along his carved jawline. Then he leaned casually back, slouching further in pointed rebuke as he allowed that penetrating stare to streak down your form with unhurried debauch.

"Why so eager to rush through the opening acts, I wonder?" He all but purred, midnight regard devouring your deepening flush with clear relish. "Shouldn't we savor such a deliciously long...build-up before reaching the climactic main events?"

All around the conference table, the other council members shifted uncomfortably at the naked innuendo dripping through Kita's mild timbre. You opened your mouth, fully intending to deliver some withering rejoinder about his inappropriate lack of professionalism.

But that's when Kita allowed one defined forearm to snake up and brace his broad palm at the nape of his neck in a deceptively casual stretch. The motion drew every eye helplessly down towards the ruddy hollows of his collarbones now visible beneath his askew shirt placket, the tendons shifting beneath gilded flesh like sentient sculpture.

Despite yourself, your pupils blew wide in a hapless gutterball of physiological arousal, drinking in every tantalizing glimpse of lean muscle and glistening skin on offer. Completely missing the knowing curve quirking Kita's mouth as your attention grew transfixed in that breathless vacuum of gravity.

When the husky vibrations of his next drawling inquiry sliced through the weighted quiet at last, you actually startled as if electrified. "...isn't that right, President?"

You blinked dazedly, realizing belatedly that you'd been so thoroughly enraptured by the sensual display of Kita's sprawl that the entire conversational thread was now lost to temporaryvapors. Heat crept up the column of your throat as you fumbled for some semblance of steadiness beneath the weight of all those judging stares.

"I—um, that is..." You rallied at last, squaring your shoulders in a valiant show of composure despite the molten fires still blazing outwards through your veins. "As I was saying, some events will simply need omitting from the lineup in the name of time constraints. That's the most efficient strategy here, if we want the full cultural experience scheduled."

Forcing your attention away from the mesmerizing sprawl of Kita's form, you stared down several of the more vocal dissenters until their murmurings hushed obediently to the proclaimed assessment. Only once the matter appeared settled did you risk flicking your eyes back to where your tormentor lounged in studied insouciance.

Kita's full lips were curved in a quietly indolent smile now, one that somehow both scorched and soothed the hyperaware nerve-endings screaming for attention all over your body. His unblinking stare remained locked in rapturous communion through each weighted inhale, weighty enough to resurrect lingering prickles.

The atmosphere was already crackling with unresolved tensions by the time you and Kita arrived at your latest battle of wits and wills. What started as a mundane review of upcoming school pride initiatives rapidly spun out into familiar territory - with Kita nitpicking your every proposal like a dog worrying a bone.

"This budget allocation is transparently overblown," he snapped without preamble, pale eyes flashing. "I refuse to allow such blatant financial waste just to satiate the committee's delusions of grandeur."

You recoiled slightly at the bluntness, teeth gritting together. "Those funds were already approved by administration based on last year's successful promotional spend--"

"Last year's figures mean nothing if they were hemorrhaging money to begin with!" Kita's deep timbre emerged scorched and gravelly. "We cannot justify that level of surplus, end of discussion."

The menacingly calm way he shut down your objection sparked fresh tendrils of heated frustration snaking outwards through your veins. Your pulse kicked up several furious notches as Kita's piercing stare remained locked and loaded, awaiting either silent capitulation or your next attempted counterstrike like a wolf scenting weakness.

Shoving away from the table with enough force to rattle its contents, you shot to your feet with fists clenched in wordless defiance. For a suspended beat, Kita simply watched you through narrowed lids, coiled tension rolling off his larger frame in waves.

Then he moved.

With a feline's predatory grace, Kita pushed out of his chair and stalked around the table's circumference towards where you stood rooted between mounting wrath and some darker, more visceral yearning. In your heightened state, the liquid prowl of each measured step seemed to fill the tiny room, sudden claustrophobia setting your heart thundering.

Kita halted less than a foot away, near enough for you to feel the heated displacement of air around his solid frame like invisible wings. To scent the cedar-and-bergamot bouquet of his subtle cologne seeping into your scattered awareness until every shallow inhale felt drugged and rapturous. His eyes never left yours - twin laser sights of smoldering challenge.

"You'd do well to remember who holds jurisdiction over fiscal matters relating to our operations," he intoned at last, the words dropping like lead weights into the bristling quiet between you. "Arrogance like yours never fails to meet...humbling correction eventually."

Some unraveled tether finally snapped deep inside at Kita's ominous inflection. You surged upwards onto the balls of your feet until you were almost nose-to-nose, hands bunching in the placket of his shirt to yank his face closer in irresistible conflagration.

Kita went utterly statue-still for a suspended heartbeat, surprise rippling across those austere features before darkening into something more viscerally intent. You opened your mouth to deliver some scathing invective you couldn't even properly envision at the moment--

But the abrupt forward cant of Kita's hips robbed you of air and thought alike. Broad palms settled on your biceps with scorching possession, fingers digging in as he backed you up against the wall's solid plane without warning. Only inches separated you, carnal heat and musky cedar-spice atmospheres merging into delirium that catalyzed your lungs into overdrive.

Between one breath and the next, your bodies aligned in an inescapable vise of muscle and silk and banked wildfire. One of Kita's thighs settled between yours in brazen, unhurried possession, forcing your knees wider in shameless entreaty as his torso effectively pinned you from breastbone to navel. The slightest rock of his hips allowed the undeniable brand of his cock to nestle against your innermost apex in a slow, suggestive grind that whited out your higher reasoning entirely.

"Nnhh..."

The broken, needy noise slipped out before you could stop it. You flushed scalding, shame and yearning burgeoning in equal measure until you could no longer meet the smoldering tumult of Kita's regard from such excruciatingly intimate proximity. His exhalations feathered across your cheek in humid, dizzying waves.

Then suddenly Kita surged forward, mouth a scorching brand searing against your own in a devouring, open-mouthed crush of sin and scorching conquest. His iron grip around your biceps eliminated any notion of retreat or capitulation as he systematically began mapping the velvet cosms of your mouth with broad, indolent sweeps of his tongue.

Your hitching whimper was swallowed whole as you arched into the ruthlessness of his possession, hips grinding in helpless entreaty against his thigh's insistent cradle. Heat radiated off Kita's frame in searing thermals, cradling you deeper into his suffocating orbit until everything outside ceased coherent existence.

Just when the roaring in your ears threatened to peak into full-bodied oblivion, something tore with a decisive snap, accompanied by the clatter of ricocheting buttons. Suddenly cool air rushed in where heated flesh had fused mere moments before, allowing your eyes to slam wide in panicked realization--

Kita had practically torn the blouse from your torso, pinning you with arms wrenched overhead and chest heaving in undisguised debauch.

The sudden tearing sound seemed to detonate the last vestige of higher reasoning between you in that endless suspended moment. One second you were pinned beneath the scorching brand of Kita's mouth claiming yours in molten possession, the next cool air rushed in as buttons scattered across the room's tiles with percussive finality.

You shuddered violently as Kita wrenched himself back just far enough to fully drink in the sight of you disheveled and flushed, chest heaving above the lacy bra you wore. His stare streaked down the newly bared expanses of skin in one unhurried, carnal sweep - pupils blown wide enough to drown entire constellations.

Rather than feeling shamed or flustered beneath that devouring scrutiny, you arched shamelessly into his appraisal. Every nerve ending screamed for more of the searing friction from Kita's rigid frame as he pinned you against the wall with his unyielding weight, solid ridge nestled indelicately against your core.

The rasping groan he released then seemed to reverberate straight through your bones, a vibration echoing from some ancient, elemental depth. Kita's palms mapped up the trembling terrain of your flanks in searing brands, fingertips trailing delirious contrails until he cradled the soft weight of you entirely in his calloused grasp.

"So unbelievably eager..." His growl emerged gravel-rough and undone in a way that sent molten shudders ricocheting through you. "Utterly shameless in your hunger, aren't you?"

You managed the barest slivers of a nod, mouth falling open in soundless entreaty as Kita's thumbs ghosted beneath the exposed swells caught in his possessive cups. His tongue dragged out in one slow sweep to moisten those pillowed lips, gaze locked on your own in a silent clash of wills.

Then his hips rolled in one heated, languorous grind that had your eyes nearly rolling back in pure rapture. The sinuous flex of Kita's torso pinned you utterly immobile as he sealed your mouths together again in delirious communion - all searing velvet and scorching possession and liquid sin etching itself into each of your marrow.

Coherent thought fled entirely as his uniquely masculine musk surrounded you in heady, drugging waves. Every shallow inhalation drew Kita's smoldering essence deeper into your psyche until not even memories beyond this cathedral of satiated need remained recognizable.

You keened softly into the merciless sweep of his tongue mapping every velvet alcove in reverent exploration. Savored the delicious sting of teeth grazing oversensitized skin as he plundered down the elegant column of your throat with possessive fervor. Writhed and arched into each arrhythmic roll of his hips grinding yours back into the solidity of the wall over and over again--

Until the world itself seemed to bleed away into ashen vapor, leaving only the exquisite crucible of your tangled forms bound in an endless rapturous spiral of searing caresses and shattering gasps and carnal desperation spiraling ever inwards towards that infinite event horizon of oblivion.

Kita's husky drawl seemed to echo somewhere in the vicinity of the crown of your skull, distant and dreamlike and yet so impossibly present. A languid stroke along the underside of one breast, the teasing graze of canines across a straining tendon, a sinfully hot mouth trailing liquid fire between your trembling thighs.

"Such a mess you've made already, President..." His dark murmur reverberated through your entire being in a wave of liquid heat. "Such a needy little slut, aren't you? I can taste how desperate you are for me..."

Then the molten, velvet contours of his tongue plunged between the soaked folds of your pussy, stroking along the sensitive nerve-clusters in a single, unhurried sweep that had you convulsing against his restraining grasp. Your vision whited out at the seams as the heady, decadent taste of him flooded your senses.

A broken sob tore free as he licked into you again, then again, laving every last inch of your dripping slit with unhurried reverence. That sinful tongue delved impossibly deeper each time, spearing into your aching core until every muscle in your body quivered and clenched.

Kita hummed his satisfaction against the tender flesh, a vibrato that ricocheted through your synapses and ignited the frayed ends of your control in an instant. Then the suction started, lips and teeth and tongue devouring you in relentless, wet suction until the world was spinning and imploding and melting into nothing but pure sensation.

You keened wordlessly, thighs trembling and hips bucking wildly against his iron grip as Kita's dexterous fingers began pistoning inside you in tandem. The added stretch and friction of three calloused digits stroking along your most intimate walls had the pleasure spiking higher, higher, impossibly higher still.

"Fuck, so perfect..." He breathed reverently, the words feathering against your throbbing clit as Kita nosed against it with the most exquisite pressure. "Cum for me, right fucking now."

The orgasm ripped through you without warning.

Searing, shattering ecstasy erupted along your spine and outwards in a blinding wave that drowned every last coherent thought in its path. You cried out hoarsely, thrashing against Kita's grip in a frenzy as he worked you through each convulsive spasm.

Then his lips were sealing over your clit once more, tongue swirling and suckling and coaxing every last ounce of your climax into overflowing, molten bliss until the edges of reality frayed and unraveled entirely.

When the world gradually resolved back into some semblance of clarity, it was to the sensation of Kita's hard length grinding insistently between the slick seam of your thighs. The blunt, velvet-wrapped tip nudged against your swollen entrance in teasing promise, sending fresh ripples of sensation careening through your already overstimulated form.

You moaned wantonly, grinding against him in delirious entreaty - desperate for Kita to bury his cock inside you and fuck you until the universe itself shattered apart into glittering stardust. He hissed at the contact, hands gripping your hips with bruising force as the crown teased just barely inside, spreading your lips obscenely.

Then he slammed home, sheathing himself completely inside your clenching, aching walls with a single brutal thrust that had you both groaning aloud. Kita's mouth captured yours in a bruising kiss, the combined flavors of your climax and his intoxicating musk flooding your tongue and drowning you in pure rapture.

Every powerful stroke into your quivering pussy seemed to strike straight against the molten center of you, each thrust bottoming out and stretching you impossibly wide. It was the most exquisite, carnal torture - having your writhing form pinned and helpless while Kita's relentless assault pounded you into the wall.

You moaned, the sounds muffled against his hungry mouth, every nerve-ending igniting as his cock pistoned deeper and harder and faster. It was too much, not enough, more than you could possibly contain and yet you wanted it all - wanted him to split you apart on the thick, pulsating length spearing you open.

"Fuck, if I’d known what a cockslut you'd be for me..." Kita growled against your throat, the words muffled as his lips trailed up and down the exposed flesh in heated caress. "How sweetly you'd spread those gorgeous thighs and take everything I give you..."

One of his broad palms splayed across the front of your lower stomach, pushing against the swollen, stretched bulge of his cock pounding deep within you. You cried out at the added pressure, thrashing uncontrollably as another orgasm crested closer, closer, just beyond the reach of his iron grasp.

"Such a perfect, tight little cunt...squeezing my cock like you can't get enough..." His ragged timbre resonated through you in a sonic vibration, teeth sinking into the juncture of your throat and shoulder. "You fucking love this, don't you? Getting fucked hard and rough, like the slut you are..."

Your nails dug into his shoulders, scrabbling for purchase against the sweat-slicked, shifting planes of his musculature as you fought to meet each powerful stroke. Each brutal snap of Kita's hips threatened to unravel the foundations of the very universe, obliterating everything beyond the scorching friction between your bodies and the delirious, molten heat mounting in your core.

He panted raggedly against the delicate shell of your ear, the hot exhalations fanning across your temple and cheeks. Then his rhythm faltered, hips jerking wildly, a guttural curse spilling from Kita's parted lips as he drove impossibly deeper.

The world erupted in pure, molten euphoria.

A raw, feral cry wrenched free from somewhere deep inside you. Your back arched, the heels of your shoes digging into the firm curve of his ass as your entire form strained into his final, ruthless strokes.

"That's it, fuck..." He growled, hips stuttering as he ground impossibly deeper, a hot torrent of cum spilling into the clenching clutch of your cunt. "I can feel you milking me so fucking tight...taking every last drop like the good little slut you are..."

His words echoed distantly in your ears, the syllables blurring and blending together until they were nothing but a melodious refrain of filthy praise. Kita's cock continued to pulse deep inside, filling you impossibly full and igniting a whole new series of electrically charged sparks skittering across your raw nerve endings.

By the time the roaring in your ears abated, it was to the sensation of his mouth trailing along the delicate curve of your jawline in featherlight caress. Kita's broad palms smoothed down the length of your thighs, easing the strained muscles until they quivered anew.

All of a sudden, he was slamming you down onto the table's surface, the edge colliding with the back of your thighs and forcing you to brace your palms flat against the varnished wood. Kita loomed above, a predatory gleam flashing in his darkening irises as he leaned in to capture your lips in another searing, open-mouthed kiss.

"We're far from finished here, President..." That resonant purr echoed down to your very bones, sending fresh prickles erupting across your sensitized flesh. "Now that I've got you properly broken in , it's time we explore the rest of those delicious, depraved fantasies dancing behind those pretty eyes."

Then he was spreading your thighs wider, angling his hips to surge deep into the drenched, aching folds of your cunt once more.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader smut #kita smut #kita x reader #kita x reader smut #kita shinsuke #kita shinsuke smut #kita shinsuke x reader #kita shinsuke x reader smut

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roosterforme · 2 days

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Aim for the Sky Part 22 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After weeks of looking forward to a quiet day with you and Rose, Bradley almost messes up his own Father's Day celebration. He's lucky you're quick to forgive him. Every day with his daughter is a collection of moments he wants to commit to memory. Every day with you makes him fall more in love.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, blowjob, DILF Roo

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

"Do you have any big plans for Sunday? For Bradley's first Father's Day?"

You looked up from your computer when you realized Cat was talking to you. Truthfully, you did have plans, but they weren't big at all. Your husband just kept telling you that all he wanted was to spend the day with just the three of you.

"Isn't it kind of Jake's first Father's Day, too?" you countered with a grin. When Cat sputtered instead of actually answering, you felt like you'd won this wrong of proverbial chess against a master. "It's okay... you don't have to admit it out loud, but I just know Jake is exceeding all of your expectations."

She dropped down into the seat next to you and leaned in like she was afraid someone else might be listening. "He took Jer to the park with Bradley and Rose the other evening."

"I know," you replied with a laugh. "I needed to clean my house, so I kicked Bradley out and told him to call his bestie, Jake."

Cat looked a little panicked now. "No, you don't understand. I can trust him to take care of Jeremiah."

"Yeah... that's good, right?"

"I don't know!" she hissed. "When I moved to California, it was my intention to never ever get involved with a man again. Just me and Jer. And then when he went away to college, I was going to start collecting exotic pets or something."

You tried not to laugh. "Yeah, Jake kind of ruined that agenda for you, huh?" She buried her face in her hands, and to your surprise, she started crying. You glanced around the lab, but Macy wasn't paying any attention as you put your arm around Cat's shoulders. You were very confused as you whispered, "Are you okay?"

Cat's dark eyes were wet with tears as she met your gaze while somehow shaking her head and nodding at the same time. Her voice was raspy and uneven as she said, "He bought an engagement ring."

"Jake proposed?" you gasped, ready to jump out of your seat. You knew for a fact he wanted to, but he kept saying he didn't think the time was exactly right yet.

"No. I found the ring. He's terrible at hiding things."

You sat quietly for a minute while she worked at getting herself under control, but then more questions started to formulate in your mind. "I know this isn't where you saw yourself, Cat. I know trusting Jake after leaving your ex is something you've struggled with, but if you love him, then what's holding you back?"

Her fingertips were pressed to her lips, and her hand was shaking. You weren't sure she had even heard your question as she stared off into space and said, "I can't even accurately describe it, because it was so pretty. The diamond was huge. Absolutely enormous. Obviously expensive." She paused and pulled away from you, opening her computer like she didn't just let herself fall apart on your shoulder. "And I have nothing to offer except a child that isn't biologically his and a crippling amount of debt that I'll probably never see the end of." When you opened your mouth to respond, she slammed her computer shut again and said, "And now I'm late to meet with Bickel," before rushing out of the lab.

You stared at the door for a few seconds before you took your phone out and started to draft up a text for Cat. You didn't see her again for the rest of the day, and you didn't send the text until you got home with Bradley and Rose. But you meant every word of it.

You're tenacious and strong, and that's worth a lot more than money. You're the kind of person someone would want to buy a big diamond for.

------------------------------

"Why is everything so expensive?" Bradley muttered to himself. "Holy hell."

He was trying to plan out the few days he would have alone with you when your parents came out again for Independence Day. Going back to the oceanfront boutique hotel in La Jolla where you and he had celebrated his birthday two years ago was going to cost a fortune over the holiday.

"Rose isn't going to need money for college anyway," he mused, shrugging at his phone before charging the room to his credit card for three nights. His daughter was going to be a genius. She was already so strong, trying her best to roll over and getting better at holding her head up without support. Suddenly he needed to see her.

Bradley tossed his phone aside and headed for the nursery where you were feeding Rose in the glider chair. When you looked up at him expectantly, he said, "I missed you."

Your gaze was soft as he sat down on the floor next to your feet. "We were with you ten minutes ago."

"Ten minutes ago? No wonder I was getting so lonely," he whispered, reaching out to run his finger along the back of Rose's hand. "Hey, Nugget."

She paused, lips pursed, before she continued eating. It was unreal how adorable she was. Bradley could look at his daughter all day long and never grow tired. He could look at your tits dripping milk all day long, too.

"Let me burp her," he said, making grabby hands as soon as she started to slow down. "It's my favorite."

You handed Rose, who was already dressed in her sleeper, to him, kissing him on the cheek as you stood. "Should I just keep these out for you?" The way you gestured at your breasts left a smile on his face.

"Please. I would very much enjoy it if you did."

You stretched your arms over your head and said, "I'll meet you either in the shower or in bed." Then you were gone, and he was excited to burp the baby and then do whatever you let him do to you.

"Let's see if we can get a nice, big burp out of you so you'll sleep for a few hours," he muttered, pulling one of the many storybooks down from the shelf from his spot on the floor. He'd read every book in the room to her multiple times already, and he couldn't wait until she started to have favorites. Tonight he read about a dragon while he patted and rubbed her back, pausing every page or two to kiss her soft cheek.

She was yawning by the last page of the book, and she did indeed burp for him. When he set her gently in her crib, Bradley whispered, "I can't believe I get to be your dad." He stood there, leaning on the side of the crib until he was certain she was asleep, then he headed for his own bedroom, unzipping his pants along the way.

Bradley found you naked in bed, fresh from the shower and rubbing lotion all over your legs. It was such a mundane yet intimate thing for him to watch, and you didn't realize he was in the doorway yet. "Get in bed," you told Tramp, nodding toward the fluffy mat he slept on next to the bathroom door. "You can't play with Rosie any more tonight. I'm sorry, but she needs to go to sleep after Daddy finishes reading to her."

"I'm finished reading to her."

Your gaze met his as your palms went gliding up your thighs, and you smiled a little shyly at him. Then you reached for the sheet like you were going to try to cover yourself, and he headed for the bed.

"Please don't, Baby Girl," he whispered. "I was really enjoying that view."

You paused and let your eyes drift down his body. "Get undressed and come here."

He did not need you to ask him twice. Bradley yanked his jeans off and tossed them aside followed by his tee shirt and his boxer briefs. You giggled when he climbed into bed in just his socks and hovered above you like he was going to do push ups with his hands planted next to your shoulders.

When he lowered himself down to give you a kiss, you raked your fingers through his hair. He knew there was no hiding how hard he was getting, so he didn't bother. He just pressed himself against you while you licked his bottom lip.

"You're really horny, Roo," you murmured, and he simply nodded. You let one hand drift down along his scarred cheek, and then you were touching your tits.

He was salivating immediately. He could practically smell you. White beads of your milk formed on your nipples as you gently squeezed yourself, and he whimpered your name. His cock was tapping against your thigh in excitement as he lowered himself down to kiss your lips again.

"It's okay," you whispered. "I know you want to. Go ahead."

Bradley sighed and came to rest on his elbows, letting his mouth meet your nipples.

-------------------------------

You spent all day Saturday running to three different grocery stores to buy ingredients for Bradley's Father's Day picnic lunch. It cost a small fortune to get everything you needed to make chicken salad sandwiches on homemade bread, a charcuterie board, fruit salad, and brownies. Your plan was to get up very early on Sunday to start making everything, but now Bradley's words made you feel like you were going to cry.

"I'm playing golf in the morning."

He was so nonchalant about it, you thought perhaps he was joking at first. But his expression showed a tiny bit of alarm and remorse, and you knew he was actually ditching you and Rose on Father's Day.

When you spoke, you hated how small your voice sounded. "You said all you wanted was a day with just the three of us."

"I do!" he insisted, reaching for you and pulling you close. "That's all I want. I promise I'll be home by lunchtime."

With that, you excused yourself to go to bed. You didn't bother to set an alarm, because what was the point? Rose would wake you up when she started crying her lungs out to eat, and Bradley would already be gone with Jake, Javy and Reuben. Honestly, you would have thought Jake would want to be home with Cat and Jer, and now you were mad at him, too. You thought about texting him but turned your phone screen side down on your nightstand and tossed your glasses aside instead.

A few minutes later, Bradley climbed in bed as well, and you could feel him trying to coax you closer. "I love you," he whispered, but you stayed curled up in a ball until you fell asleep.

Sure enough, he was gone when you woke up. You didn't even bother changing out of your pajamas to feed Rose. Your plans to wear a cute sundress seemed pointless now as you tried to appease your cranky daughter while you made chicken salad and baked a small loaf of bread.

"You'd probably calm down if your dad were here," you mused, handing her toy after toy only for her to push them all away. Finally Tramp had mercy on you and plopped down next to her on her play mat for a few minutes.

Of course the picnic foods looked absolutely perfect, and you struggled to get Rose burped and down for a late morning nap. "I swear you don't act like this for him," you groaned, fighting the urge to start crying. You'd been feeling better over the past few weeks. Your body was becoming more your own again, even though you were still sharing it with your daughter. The birth control and the healing time were certainly helping, but right now, you and Rose came in second place to a round of golf. On Father's Day.

She spit up all over you before she fell asleep, forcing you to change into your dress anyway. The wrapped present on the coffee table along with the homemade card were enough to make you set a timer for noon. If he wasn't back, you were going to eat the meal yourself. Your stomach was already growling.

But Bradley came through the door at 11:58 wearing gym shorts and a tank top with his aviators low on his nose. "Sweetheart," he said, sounding a little bit out of breath as he headed your way. "You look pretty."

Did he think you were stupid? You got up from the couch and turned off the timer. "Where were you, Bradley? Because you weren't playing golf dressed like that."

His cheeks flushed pink at the same time you noticed something wrapped around his right bicep. When he held his arm out to his side, you gasped.

"Why didn't you just tell me that's where you were going?" you whispered, tears burning your eyes. You felt frustrated and embarrassed that you got upset in the first place.

"I wanted to surprise you," he murmured, wrapping his left arm around your waist. "I've been waiting to do this since you told me you were pregnant." You buried your face against his chest and let yourself cry. "Shit. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I said I was golfing. I panicked when they called me back and said they could fit me in this morning. I just really wanted to get my second paper plane as soon as possible."

He held you tight with both arms wrapped around you. "You said you just wanted a day with your girls, and I planned a picnic and got you a present, and then you said you wanted to fucking play golf," you sobbed. "Next time just tell me you're getting another tattoo, okay? Because now when you say you're going golfing, I'm going to think you're getting another one anyway."

"Hey," Bradley rasped, tilting your chin so you were looking up at him. "I'm spending the rest of today with my girls. That really is all I wanted to do today. I'm sorry I lied to you. I feel terrible about it now." His brown eyes were sincere which made you feel a lot better, and now you weren't mad at Jake anymore.

"Can I see it?" you whispered, and he immediately started to unwrap his arm. Right there next to the large paper airplane that had Baby Girl written across it was a smaller one that said Rose in the same script. "God, Roo. It's perfect."

"Just like my girls."

----------------------------

Okay, so he came within an inch of completely fucking things up on Father's Day. It wasn't like he planned it that way. He wasn't even sure why he said he was going to play golf. None of his friends would even make a tee time on Father's Day and include him. Or Jake for that matter. Plus, Bradley was fucking terrible at lying. He felt apprehensive the entire time he was getting the tattoo done.

It didn't even really matter if you knew about it ahead of time, but he wanted it to be a surprise declaration of his love for his family. Instead he made you stress out and cry, because of course you had a whole fucking day planned. You loved him that much.

He was right there with you and Rose for the rest of the afternoon. He changed her diapers and helped you pack up the food along with a bottle of pink champagne that was tucked way back behind everything else in the refrigerator. He carried everything out to the Bronco and got both of you buckled in. Then he started driving where you told him to.

"Are we going to our wedding venue?" he asked after a few minutes, and you started laughing.

"Is that what we're calling the parking lot?"

"Sweetheart. That's our wedding venue." Rose hadn't been to that beach yet, and now he was excited. So excited. "Rosie, we're going to show you where Mommy first kissed me and fell so in love that she's incapable of being mad at me even though I didn't tell her I was going to get tattooed this morning."

Now you were laughing harder, and you turned his playlist up a little louder, and the sun felt a little brighter. When he pulled into the parking lot, he backed into the spot where you became his wife, and then he strapped Rose into her baby carrier against his chest.

Bradley watched you pull Rosie's little sun hat out of the diaper bag, and you kissed her nose before putting it on her head. "Don't want you to get too much sun." Then you led the way down the rocky path to the sand below where you spread out a beach blanket. You tugged Bradley's hand until he was on his knees, and then you kissed his nose as well. "Don't want you getting too much sun either."

When he remembered the sunburn he got the day of Mickey's birthday kegger, he shuddered, but you were already squeezing some sunblock onto your hands and smoothing it along his face. You smiled when you got some in his mustache, and Bradley leaned closer to kiss you, and then he didn't want to stop. You ended up on your back on the blanket with sunblock on your nose while Bradley cradled Rose's head.

"Happy first Father's Day," you whispered, running your fingers up inside his sleeve to touch the wrapping around his bicep. "Rose is lucky you're her daddy."

The lunch you made was absolutely perfect. Bradley couldn't remember ever having homemade bread before, and he ate two sandwiches in a row. You and he drank the champagne from the bottle on the blanket before walking down to the water. Your tipsy giggles as he dipped Rose's toes in the water made him smile.

"She hates it!" you cackled when Rose pulled her legs up and wailed. Bradley lowered her down again when the next wave came in, and she pulled her feet away from the water once again.

"Aww, Daddy's sorry," he said, lifting her up and flying her around in the air like a plane to get her to calm down. "I'll take you to Virginia Beach where the water is warmer," he promised. "And we can go to the cemetery and visit Grampy Goose and Grandma Carole. How does that sound?"

His daughter looked much happier at the prospect of warmer water and more time with grandparents. Even though Bradley was here with his family, he couldn't help but think about everything he missed out on. Everything he was still missing out on.

He never had a dad to fly him around or dip his toes in the water, at least not that he could remember. All he could recall were glimpses of laughter and being lifted out of his crib. He could almost hear a voice, but he wasn't sure if it was even Nick's or if his memory was playing a trick on him.

Bradley held onto Rose a little tighter as you let your head rest on his shoulder. Your voice was soft, barely loud enough for him to hear you over the waves. "I wish I could have met them. I wish they were here to see you with Rose."

He knew one thing for a fact. "They would have loved this little Nugget."

----------------------------

Quite effortlessly, Bradley led you back up the rocks while he carried Rose and all the gear. As soon as the sun started to set, the wind picked up and the air got chilly. Even though you nursed Rose, you knew she was going to need to eat again so she could fall asleep.

"Oh, you still have to unwrap your present," you told Bradley when you got home and walked past the living room table.

"Right now?" he asked with a smirk.

"If you want to."

He started to take your shirt off, and you ducked out of his grasp with a laugh. "Not me!"

"I don't want anything else though," he rasped, still reaching for you, but you pushed him toward Rose on her play mat instead.

"She needs a quick bath while you open your present, and then I'll give you a blowjob after she's in her crib."

"Hell yes," Bradley muttered, scooping up the baby and the wrapped gift and heading for the bathroom. You filled up Rosie's little tub, and he set her down in the water then started unwrapping the present but keeping his attention mostly on his daughter.

"Do you like it?" you asked over your shoulder, and then he realized he was holding a book. A book about him and you and Rose and Tramp.

Bradley flipped through the pages, staring in awe at the cartoon versions of his family. Each of you had been drawn as a superhero, and even the sketched version of Tramp was wearing a little red cape.

"This is the cutest thing I have ever seen. How did you get this?"

"I had it made," you told him. "I sent photos of all of us to a local artist, and she created the book for you."

"Damn," he whispered, tears in his eyes as he looked at each page again. "I'm such a sappy mess now, I swear." Then he sat down on the floor next to you while you rinsed the sand from Rose's tiny feet and started to read the book out loud. "Once upon a time, the Super Bradshaw Family was just about to eat dinner when Super Dad Bradley's phone rang. The city of San Diego needed help, and there was nobody better to turn to."

The story was fun, and the drawings were silly, and he just knew Rose would probably adore this book when she got a little bit older. And he was so lucky he had a wife who did things like turn him into a cartoon superhero for Father's Day and make him a four course picnic lunch.

He also had a wife who dropped to her knees as soon as they were alone. You looked up at him as you pulled his shorts and underwear down to his thighs, kissing his cock as you whispered, "There's my Super Daddy Bradley."

He grinned as he pulled his shirt off as well, enjoying how pretty you looked below his flat abs with your hand cupping his balls. "You absolutely own me, Baby Girl. I'm a fucking wreck for you. I'm all tattooed for my girls now. If you want me to be your Super Daddy, you know I will be."

You licked your lips and parted them, and then Bradley was in heaven.

---------------------------------

I need Jer to have a dad. I need it in my bones. I also need Bradley to have a sensational 38th birthday before he packs his bags and goes to La Jolla with his wife for three days in bed. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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novarex · 6 days

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Drow Reference Material for your OC and Fanfiction Purposes

This is not a complete list, but here are some references I use often when trying to write thins that are somewhat lore accurate.

This is one of the coolest books I have in physical form. Fortunately for you, you can get the whole book for free in digital form here. I used this CONSTANTLY when writing fics or formulating OCs.

Published in 2012, the same year the Legend of Drizzt book Charon's Claw released, it goes into INCREDIBLE detail about drow culture and the city of Menzoberranzan itself. 10/10

Published in 1992 , Menzoberranzan City of Drow, has a lot of interesting information, but some of it might be old and out of date. There are a few things I noticed that have been changed. This is still a great source of more drow information.

There are two Drow of the Underdark books... this one is for the Forgotten Realms setting and in 2e. The 2007 one is more for other settings as was pointed out to me.

Published in 2007, Drow of the Underdark provides more insight into drow culture. There are, however, aspects of this that are outdated. I take some of these older books as if they were written by a person who was observing the drow as an outsider with their own prejudices and preconceived notions.

Demihuman Deities has a ton of text on lots of gods. Good reference for drow gods and just about any other god you want more information on.

Drow language translator - I don't know how accurate this is, but I use it for fanfiction writing anyway.

Allright. That's it for now. I'm sure I'll be back with more later.

#drow #menzoberranzan #forgotten realms #legend of drizzt #bg3

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hopelesslygaysstuff · 8 months

Note

Hii!

Could you please write about Mommy!Wanda and f!reader using a double ended dildo for the first time?

I love your work thank youuuu

I hope you enjoy this!!! It was definitely a first... I hope it's accurate haha ♡

Drabble beneath the cut!

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?” You hold up a dildo, its size causing you to raise your eyebrows. You look toward your girlfriend, unimpressed as it flops onto the mattress.

“It definitely won’t fit, Wanda.”

A long suffering sigh erupts from your girlfriend's lips, a fond smile creeping onto her face as she sets down the packaging that you’d ripped open. Making her way towards you, she picks up the dildo that had just arrived, holding it in between you two as she explains.

“This is a double-sided dildo, sweetheart. We both use it at the same time, remember?” Her voice is soft, and you instantly feel yourself flush as you remember the impromptu purchase you’d made.

“Oh, right.” Your voice cracks slightly, and you cough while turning away from Wanda’s piercing gaze.

Your brain helpfully supplied multiple scenarios of using the toy, and you couldn’t get the image of Wanda’s face in pure ecstasy while the dildo was buried deep inside the both of you out of your head. You imagined what it would feel like, your clits grinding against each other as your arousal mixed together while you both fucked yourselves on the dildo, and the thought sent you straight into a vanilla haze.

“Darling?” Wanda’s face came back into focus, and you blinked a few times.

“Oh, sorry. Did you say something?” The smirk on her face told you that she knew exactly where your head had gone, and she held up a bottle of lube. You felt yourself grow wet at the sight, and evidently Wanda was just as excited, if her dilated pupils were anything to go by.

“Let’s break this toy in.”

—

Wanda’s fingers are tight around your throat, her eyes half closed as she rolls her hips roughly. You’re on your back, the dildo thrusting deep inside you with each movement Wanda makes, hands tied to the headboard.

The privilege of movement had been taken away when you tried to manually move Wanda’s hips faster, and she liked to be in control of her own body at all times. So, here you were, your third orgasm creeping up on you as Wanda slid the dildo in and out of your soaked pussy.

“Fuck, baby,” Wanda moans, and you watch the other end of the dildo as it disappears inside her. “Can you feel that? Is mommy making you feel good?”

Her words cause you to leak harder around the dildo, and you frantically nod your head. Your brain feels all fuzzy, from both arousal and lack of blood flow as Wanda’s hand tightens slightly.

“Use your words, darling.”

You try to speak, but all that comes out are a series of moans and half grunts, and Wanda smiles sadistically. Her hips somehow move faster, the dildo hitting that spot inside you that makes you gasp and see stars. A deep pressure rises within you, pleasure coursing through your veins as you try and formulate some words.

“Please… I need, fuck. You, please. Mommy,” You sound pathetic and you know it, but Wanda absolutely loves it.

“Good girl.”

Her hips thrust faster, her other hand reaching down and quickly rubbing your clit. Your legs tremble slightly, hips twisting as you futilely try to escape the mind-numbing pleasure. Wanda is nothing short of determined, pushing her own need to orgasm to the back of her mind as she focuses on bringing you to a climax.

Four deep thrusts later, you feel your orgasm crash over you, your pussy gushing as liquid squirts onto Wanda’s abdomen. If she’s surprised, she doesn't show it, her hips moving tirelessly as she fucks you through your orgasm.

Eventually, a tired ‘yellow’ slips from your lips, and Wanda slows down, feeling her own orgasm rising with each thrust.

“Too much?” She asks, working herself closer to the edge even as she watches your face for any signs of discomfort.

“Yes, but I want you to finish,” You gasp out, feeling your body start to relax even as Wanda slowly fucks herself on the dildo buried in your tired pussy.

“Okay, darling. Just let mommy use this pretty body of yours.” Her accent rushes to the surface, and you moan at the words. Nodding your consent, you feebly tug at your restraints when Wanda’s eyes close, chasing her own orgasm.

“That’s it,” You say, Wanda’s eyes shooting open in surprise. “Fuck youself, mommy. Make yourself feel good on the dildo that you used to make me cum.”

Green eyes darken, and before you know it, Wanda’s orgasm takes over her. Her muscles seize, and you lick your lips at her abs as they clench while her chest rises and falls rapidly. Her hand is still wrapped around your throat, the other roughly squeezing your breast as she grinds harshly down onto the clit.

The last few drops of pleasure are forced from her pussy, the dildo making Wanda feel impossibly full as she pants. She looks down, taking in your shining eyes and parted lips, and feels her arousal build again.

“Do you think you can give mommy one more orgasm?” She asks, and you don’t hesitate before nodding eagerly. Wanda laughs, her head flung back as she slowly starts fucking herself on the dildo again.

You watch with wide eyes as Wanda starts working herself towards another orgasm. There is only one last thought you think before your mind completely submerges itself in that vanilla haze.

‘What a good purchase.’

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hyuckiefluff · 1 year

Text

tease | lee haechan

pairing: lee haechan x f!reader genre: enemies-ish to lovers, college au word count: 5.8k+ summary: Playing spin the bottle definitely wasn't what you had envisioned for your first college party. And the last person you expected to see was Lee Haechan. But life has a funny way of throwing surprises at you, and this time it came in the form of the bottle landing on some drunk dude who dared you to kiss Haechan. warnings: oral (m receiving), fngering, cursing, drinking, hc calls reader princess a/n: rushed this one a bit to post it on time for haechan’s bday :D i hope you enjoy! and happy birthday my haechan ilysm baby! - i recommend listening to sweat by zayn while reading

m.list

"New girl… what was your name... oh right.. Y/N” the guy's words stumbled out of his mouth, clearly too many drinks deep into the night. He was trying so hard to formulate a single coherent thought, but his speech was all over the place. And there you sat, legs crossed, waiting for whatever command he was about to throw at you.

"You should, ehm... uh… oh I know… you should kiss the person in front of you," he slurred, barely able to keep his eyes open.

You tensed up when the words left his mouth. You expected having to kiss someone in this game but you weren’t all that excited or open to the idea. Sure, you could've just taken a shot and avoided the whole ordeal, but you had already declined way too many requests and had knocked back enough shots for the night. Plus, your friend had disappeared into the crowd a while ago, leaving you to fend for yourself. You didn't want to push your drinking limit any further.

But honestly, the mere thought of kissing anyone at that moment felt too awkward. You didn't know a single person in this circle, and the boys surrounding you seemed ready to pounce at the opportunity. The uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach grew stronger. And just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, someone sauntered into the circle, nudging the guy who had been in front of you aside, without a single word of protest. It was as if the universe itself conspired to make the situation even more complicated because there he was, in all his glory, Lee Haechan.

Let me give you a short backstory. Haechan was one of your brother's closest friends, and you practically grew up with him. Well, maybe "in his shadow" is a more accurate description. His larger-than-life personality always overshadowed your shy self whenever you were in the same room. And there was also the teasing. Haechan took great pleasure in getting under your skin. While most of your brother's friends ignored you, Haechan found it amusing to embarrass you at every opportunity. He'd mock your fashion choices and poke fun at your taste in music. Basically, anything he could find that was worthy of a good tease, he'd go for it. Sure, you'll admit that you were a bit of an awkward kid back then, spending most of your time holed up in your room, jamming out to some obscure indie band, and wearing some questionable outfits (you can totally blame your mom for that until you turned 13).

Anyway, let's just say Lee Haechan wasn't exactly the friendliest face in your memory bank.

It’s been two whole years since you last laid eyes on him, and you honestly thought you'd never have to see him again. Your big brother mentioned that Haechan went off to "some college" out of town, so you assumed your paths would never cross. But your brother also conveniently forgot to mention the crucial detail that Haechan had actually managed to get into your top-choice university. Yes, the very same one you had been raving about since the idea of higher education even entered your mind. Thank you for the heads up, big bro.

Now you were sitting here, about to lose your mind because the first time you’re meeting Haechan after all this time, you're being dared to kiss him...in front of all these people too. There was no way you could do this. Your hesitance was impossible to hide, and everyone seemed to notice. But Haechan, being Haechan, couldn't resist making a comment about it. Of course.

“She won’t do it.” He said, taking a casual sip from his drink.

Though he pretty much spoke your thoughts out loud, you still paused and looked at him raising an eyebrow. You would've shrugged it off, but there was no way you were going to let Haechan continue teasing you like that in college. You were too grown and fed up to allow him to treat you that way.

“And why won’t she?” You asked, crossing your arms.

He chuckled “Because she doesn’t have it in her.” He said the words slowly to taunt you.

Maybe it was the fact that he was talking as if you weren’t in the room, or that he seemed so sure that you were too much of a coward to kiss him but before you could stop yourself you started crawling up to him. The circle of people around you suddenly more interested in your every move. Now you were kneeling in between Haechan’s sprawled legs, so close to his face that you could smell the mix of alcohol with his cologne. He put down his drink, the look of bore left his eyes and he perked up a little at your sudden closeness. Without giving yourself time to cower away you closed the distance between your lips. You didn’t miss the slight flinch of surprise he gave when your lips touched, he really wasn’t expecting you to go through with it.

Haechan would sooner be caught dead than admit it but he really enjoyed getting a rise out of you. It gave him this weird rush whenever he saw you getting all flustered or even a little pissed off. Sure, you were usually the shy and soft-spoken type, but deep down, there was a side to you that had some fight in it. It wasn't something you showed to just anyone, but he had managed to bring it out of you on more than one occasion.

He never in a million years expected seeing you at this party. It had been a while since he even thought about you. So, when he spotted you in the crowd, he was completely caught off guard. He watched you intently all night, trying to figure out if it was actually you. It hadn't been that long since he last saw you, but there was something distinctly different about you. You were engaged in lively conversations, your laughter floating through the air. It was a stark contrast to the image he had of you in his head.

He only remembers how reserved you were, back then you weren't able to have a full conversation with him or even hold eye contact. So, when he ended up sitting in front of you, teasing you like he always did, he never expected you to do anything more than maybe give him some attitude and walk away. But man, did you flip the script on him.

Before Haechan could even process what was happening, there you were, on your knees in front of him. His attention instinctively went to your tongue darting across your lips, that simple action getting him way too excited. Before he had a chance to react, your lips were already on his. The kiss started off slow, like a cautious test drive. Haechan could tell you weren't exactly planning to go this far, he could sense that hint of hesitance in your every move.

This wasn't the kind of kiss he usually went for. He liked them rough, the kind that leaves you breathless. But, there was something about you taking charge that had him intrigued. Even though it was a simple kiss with no crazy fireworks, it managed to get both your hearts racing.

Your hands went to his chin to keep him in place while your lips fumbled in a slow rhythm that had Haechan going kinda crazy inside. He had to fight hard to keep his cool, resisting the urge to grab you and kiss you back as hard as he wanted to. His hands stayed glued to the floor. He was scared that if he touched you, he wouldn't be able to stop himself, and also because his palms were suddenly a sweaty mess and he doubted you’d like that.

You tilted his head back a bit causing his mouth to slack open. With this new access, your tongue shyly ventured into his mouth, as if following an instinctive cue. Haechan also took a chance and nibbled on your lower lip, causing a soft whimper to escape your lips. The sound made his whole body tense up. Your hands roamed from his chin to the back of his head, testing the waters by gently tugging on his hair. That's when an involuntary grunt slipped out of Haechan's mouth, snapping you both back to reality.

As you pulled away, his eyes slowly fluttered open. Yours immediately darted to his slightly swollen lips, tinged with the color of your lipstick. Acting on some unknown impulse, you brushed your thumb against his lips wiping off the lipstick. He glanced at your finger and then met your gaze again, his eyes filled with an intensity that made your breath hitch. You said nothing and wiped the remnants of lipstick from your finger onto his clean white undershirt, all while maintaining unwavering eye contact.

You stood up, trying not to make it too obvious that your legs were weaker than before. Seeing the slightly shocked and amused faces of everyone around you would’ve scared younger you into running away but you didn’t feel intimidated at all.

"I'm gonna grab a new drink," you announced, giving Haechan one final glance before making your way out.

Of course, you didn't actually head to the drinks table like you said you would. Instead, you dashed straight for the bathroom, your heart racing like a herd of wild horses. Closing the door behind you and allowing yourself a moment to process everything that just happened and pretty much freak out.

"Have you lost your damn mind, Y/N?" you scolded your reflection in the mirror, the harsh reality staring right back at you. Disheveled hair, smudged lipstick, and that dazed look in your eyes, mirroring the same one that Haechan had after the kiss. Letting out a heavy sigh, you rested your hands on the edge of the sink, reluctantly admitting to yourself that the kiss wasn't half bad. Who would've thought? Haechan, your tormentor, sure knew how to kiss. His lips felt downright amazing against yours, and the taste… a mix of alcohol with a subtle sweetness that lingered on your lips, intoxicating your thoughts as you unconsciously replayed the moment over and over in your mind.

But before you could fully immerse yourself, the bathroom door swung open with a force, causing you to yelp in surprise. In your mortification, you had completely forgotten to lock the damn door. Oh, how you wished you had because to your horror, the intruder turned out to be none other than Haechan himself. His surprise at finding you in the bathroom was evident, though you couldn't help but wonder if he had followed you all the way here.

"You could've found a better hiding spot, you know," he jeered, leaning casually against the wall, his eyes meeting yours through the mirror's reflection.

"I wasn't hiding, Haechan. Can't a girl have some privacy in the bathroom?" you fired back.

"Sorry, it's just that you looked a little frustrated when you left, princess," he taunted, his words dripping with a mixture of amusement and something else you couldn't quite put your finger on.

"Quit calling me that" you shot back, irritation lacing your voice.

Haechan merely shrugged, his teasing smile still intact. "You're right. A princess doesn't run away like that after a kiss," he continued to taunt, enjoying the effect his words had on you.

"I didn't run away," you retorted, trying to maintain your composure. "But I don't need to explain myself to you anyway, so get out, Donghyuck," you said, turning around to face him with a glare.

His teasing demeanor faltered for a moment, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing his face at the use of his actual name. "Wow, it's been a while since anyone called me that. I like the way you say it," he admitted, attempting to lighten the mood. However, seeing your unamused expression, he raised his hands in surrender. "Come on, the kiss wasn't even that bad. You don't have to be embarrassed. Though it was so short, I couldn't really judge it properly."

"Pity, because you're never gonna get another chance," you replied, determination seeping into your voice as you turned your back to him.

Haechan studied you silently, his gaze fixed on your figure. There was a brief pause, a moment where the air between you seemed to thicken with anticipation. Slowly, he closed the distance between you, his proximity making you grip the edges of the sink tighter. He position his hands next to yours, his larger frame enveloping yours. Through the reflection in the mirror, his eyes locked onto yours.

With a hushed voice, he leaned in close to your ear, his warm breath grazing your skin as he whispered, "We'll see about that."

The weight of his words hung in the air as he held your gaze for a moment longer. Then, with one final look, he pulled away, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.

A few days went by until you saw Haechan again at another party. It was insane how quickly you were getting invited to these things. Your social life went from zero to a hundred really quick. Things were finally looking up, and you were having a blast, making more friends along the way.

But of course, there he was—Haechan, lurking in the shadows like some lingering ghost. It felt like he was always in your peripheral vision, pretending he wasn't staring at you. Seriously, why couldn't he just go away? You made up your mind that finding someone else to hang out with would be the perfect way to shake off his annoying presence. Preferably someone who didn't get a kick out of teasing you mercilessly.

Just when you were mulling over your thoughts, a smooth voice broke through the noise from behind you. "Hey there, what's a beautiful girl like you doing all alone?"

You turned to face him and recognized him was one of the players from the spin the bottle game

"Actually, I'm looking for my friend. She vanished into thin air, it seems," you replied, trying not to sound too awkward. Small talk was never your strong suit, especially with extremely attractive guys.

He nodded, laughing softly, "Well, I can help you find her, but only if you dance with me."

You considered it for a moment, thinking it might be exactly the distraction you needed. "Sure, why not? Lead the way," you said, setting your drink aside and taking his hand as he guided you to the center of the room where people were dancing.

"I'm Jeno, by the way," he introduced himself, leaning in closer to your ear so you could hear him over the music.

You shouted back, "Nice to meet you, Jeno. I'm Y/N." He responded with an adorable eye smile, and you couldn't help but smile back.

In those few fleeting minutes with Jeno, you were already smitten. He was far more polite and considerate than the typical guys you had encountered in college so far. At first, there was definitely an air of slight intimidation surrounding him, probably because of his tall muscular frame and silver blonde hair, but as you danced together, he showed his soft and kind nature. His hands rested firmly on your hips, providing just the right amount of contact without encroaching on your personal space. As you felt more comfortable in his arms, you entwined your hands behind his neck, and only then he pulled you closer. The swift movement caused a gentle collision against his solid chest, confirming what you had suspected earlier—Jeno was no stranger to the gym. His white shirt was clinging to him in all the right places and you had to force yourself to look away before he caught you staring.

As the music played and your bodies moved against each other, Jeno leaned close to your ear once again. "You know... during the spin the bottle game, I was annoyed," he confessed.

Confused, you raised an eyebrow. "Why's that?"

"Because I was supposed to get that kiss from you, before that guy came and took my chance," he explained, his expression adorably pouting to emphasize his disappointment.

Smiling at his confession, you couldn't help but tease him playfully. "Well, what if I told you I would've rather kissed you?"

His eyes lit up with delight, and you realized that he reminded you of a puppy. Jeno took your words as an invitation and slowly closed the gap between your faces, his lips barely grazing yours. But before the moment could fully unfold, the music abruptly stopped, and a crashing sound cut through the crowd. Turning your gaze over Jeno's shoulder, you saw chaos near the table where the sound system had been set up.

The whole display had been knocked over, and the DJ was engaged in a heated argument with another person. The other guy had his back to you, but you recognized that posture and when he turned his head to the side you confirmed who it was. Lee Haechan, his face contorted in anger as he flipped off the other guy who just kept yelling at him. His scorn only intensified when his eyes locked with yours, taking in the sight of you entangled with Jeno.

"What's going on over there?" you muttered to yourself, unable to tear your eyes away from the scene.

"Just some drunk jerk making a mess," Jeno replied, glancing back at you.

You wished you could have resumed where you left off with him, but the interruption had shattered the moment. Not to mention, Haechan's piercing gaze lingered in your mind making you feel somewhat uneasy.

"Uh... I'm kind of thirsty. I should get a drink," you said, trying to find an excuse to escape the overwhelming atmosphere.

"I'll get it for you," Jeno offered, flashing a quick smile before heading off to fetch the drink. As he disappeared into the crowd, you ran your fingers through your hair, feeling the heat rising within you. The intensity of the almost-kiss and Haechan's intense stare made it hard to catch your breath. You needed a moment alone, away from the suffocating crowd.

You made your way to the bathroom upstairs, your go-to escape room. However, as you reached the door, you discovered it was locked, and the lewd sounds coming from inside let you know it wouldn’t be available for a while. Frustrated, you let out a sigh and glanced around, hoping to find another bathroom. Knocking on each door along the hallway, you realized that most of them were locked too, leaving little doubt as to what was happening inside.

Just as you were about to give up, the door at the end of the hallway swung open when you tried it, and you immediately slipped into the room discreetly. Closing the door behind you, you breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for this temporary escape. You stepped into the bathroom and splashed water on your face and neck, trying to cool yourself down. Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you couldn't help but feel frustrated with yourself for allowing Haechan to disrupt your thoughts once again. You hadn't even exchanged a single word with him tonight, yet he managed to occupy your mind so intensely. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, and with a shake of your head, you resolved to leave the bathroom and rejoin Jeno, who was probably wondering where you had run off to.

But to your surprise and horror, someone stood on the balcony. You hadn't even realized the room had a balcony when you entered. The figure seemed unaware of your presence. So you attempted to make a silent exit, and almost succeeded until you accidentally tripped over a trash can. Wow, you really needed to pay better attention to your surroundings.

"Y/N?" a familiar voice called out, the one that had been haunting your thoughts just moments ago. Frozen in place, you debated whether to make a run for it. Surely he wouldn't stop you, right? He wouldn't chase after you... would he?

"Haechan..." you sighed, your tone conveying your frustration at seeing him.

"Are you stalking me or something?," he asked, his teasing tone cutting through the tense air. You rolled your eyes at the absurd suggestion.

"Shouldn't I be the one asking that? It seems like you're always popping up wherever I go… first the game, then the bathroom, and now here," you retorted, counting off the instances on your fingers. "What are you even doing here?" You gestured around the room, emphasizing your point.

"I could ask you the same thing. Weren't you just getting cozy with that Kendoll downstairs?" he asked, hands nonchalantly tucked into his pockets as he gradually closed the distance between you. Now, up close, you could see him clearly. He wore a black graphic t-shirt with the words 'they come, they go,' and his jeans were ripped on the thighs. His hair was also somewhat styled. It was clear that he had put some effort into his appearance, unlike his usual messy style.

"You didn't answer my question," you persisted, fighting off the nerves that his proximity was starting to stir.

"Well, this happens to be my birthday party," he revealed, a hint of satisfaction in his voice at seeing the slight shock in your face.

"Oh… uhm… happy birthday," you awkwardly mumbled. His closeness now forced you to tilt your head upward, despite the height advantage your heels provided.

"Anyway, why did you make a scene at your own birthday party?" you asked, trying to kill the awkward silence and stepping away slightly to regain some personal space.

You made your way to the balcony, craving the fresh air as a relief from the intensity of the room.

"I guess you could say I wasn't vibing with the atmosphere, the music, the people... especially the people," he replied, his words hinting at something that you couldn't quite grasp.

"Hm, well, I was actually having a good time for once," you replied, leaning against the balcony rail. He mirrored your posture, but instead of gazing out at the street ahead, he fixed his gaze on you.

"Yeah, I could see that. So, who's your new boy-jock-friend?" he asked, his words dripping with sarcasm and… jealousy? You turned your head to the side, squinting incredulously at the ridiculous nickname he had given Jeno.

"His name is Jeno, and he's actually a really nice guy," you clarified.

"Is that so?," he hummed, his expression pensive. His lack of a proper response prompted you to look at him again, only to find him struggling to suppress a stupid grin.

"What, Haechan?" you demanded, growing tired of his antics.

"Nothing, just...I was wondering if you even like guys like that," he asked, shrugging.

"Why does it matter to you?" you shot back, your voice tinged with annoyance.

"It doesn't," he replied nonchalantly, but there was a subtle shift in his demeanor as he closed the distance between you. The intensity in his gaze mirrored the way he had looked at you after your first kiss. "But I know you don't like him." He whispered that into your ear, now standing directly behind you.

Caught off guard by his statement, you instinctively turned around to face him. Bad idea.

"You're wrong," you managed to reply, though the pitch change in your voice betrayed your nervousness. His amusement grew as he leaned against the balcony rail, his hands positioned on either side of you.

"Then answer this..." he began, his hand gently brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear before cupping your chin, tilting it ever so slightly, "Why are you here with me instead of with him?"

You were at a loss for words. He was right. You should have been downstairs with Jeno, dancing some more, perhaps even kissing him. Yet, there you stood with this fool, your gaze inexplicably drawn to his lips and the way they moved, and how he unconsciously wet them every few seconds.

"Nothing to say?" he teased, his nose grazing against yours, and you couldn't help but close your eyes, knowing deep down that you were about to do something completely crazy. "I think we-"

"Shut up," you blurted out, unable to hold back any longer, and you closed the gap between your lips in a frenzy. The kiss was anything but slow this time; it was a messy collision of longing and pent-up tension that had been brewing for days. All the warning signs you put for yourself to stay away from Lee Haechan felt irrelevant now.

Your hands found their way into Haechan's hair, pulling on the strands as you tried to make him groan just like before. But this time, he surprised you by firmly gripping your thighs and seating you on the balcony rail. The cool metal against your bare skin made you shiver, but the sensation was quickly overridden by the warmth of Haechan's touch. The kiss grew more intense, a mess of lips and tongues, bites, sucks, and a chorus of eager sounds that escaped from both of you. The world around you faded away as you focused solely on how good his hands and lips felt.

"Please," you moaned against his lips, and he wasted no time. In a flash, he lifted you, carrying you effortlessly to the bed. The kiss never faltered as he positioned himself above you, his hands hungrily exploring your body. Your skirt was hiked up, and he suddenly grabbed your ass making you gasp. Clothes were becoming a nuisance, and Haechan noticed your impatience as you fumbled with his shirt. He couldn't help but chuckle at your eagerness, but he helped anyways, discarding the shirt and revealing a canvas of smooth skin that begged to be touched.

You traced the contours of his torso with your fingers, savoring the sight of every mole and line etched across his skin. Your ogling was momentarily interrupted when Haechan tried to remove your tangled shirt, provoking a dramatic sigh from you when he finally pulled it off your head. He laughed at this and your lips met once more in a short, sweet kiss before his attention shifted to removing your skirt.

Lying before him in nothing but your underwear, you watched as he straightened up, his gaze locked on your exposed form. You felt self-conscious but the way he was looking at you with darkened, adoring eyes, let you know that there was nothing to be shy about.

You flung your bra aside after unhooking it, meeting Haechan's hungry gaze as he took in your now exposed chest. You grabbed his hand inviting him to touch you. His hand glided from your belly to your breasts, exploring your curves slowly. He leaned and latched his mouth on your right breast, playing, nibbling, and sucking. He wanted to hear every moan and whimper coming from your lips. Each sound you made spurred him on, his body instinctively grinding against yours, his growing hardness pressing against you with every movement. You knew he was growing desperate with every sloppy thrust and lick of his tongue.

You hooked your finger through the chain around Haechan's neck and pulled him up so he was face to face with you "I want to try something," you whispered, planting a quick kiss on his lips. Gently pushing him by the shoulder, he willingly allowed himself to fall onto his back, his eyes fixed on you, filled with anticipation.

"What are you doing?" he asked, a playful tone lacing his breathless voice as you slowly crawled down his body, stopping in front of his crotch.

"What do you think?" you teased, unzipping his pants and sliding them down. His black boxers clung tightly to his arousal, already dampened with pre-cum. Biting your lip, you could already imagine his thickness just by the sight of it over his underwear. Looking up at Haechan, you noticed he had his hands behind his head to get a better view of your actions.

Without hesitation, you pulled down his boxers, causing his erection to spring up in an almost comical manner. There was no time to waste, you could tell that he might explode if you delayed any further. Grasping him firmly at the base, you used the slickness of his pre-cum as lub, pumping him a few times. Haechan bit his lips to contain his desperate moans, he didn’t want it to be so obvious that your simple touch on his dick almost made him cum.

But you had other plans. You wanted to hear him. You wanted to make him moan, whimper, and maybe even cry out in pleasure. Propping yourself up, you leaned in and without warning, kitten-licked his sensitive tip. Haechan's head flew back, as a string of curses left his mouth. Delighted by his fucked up state, you repeated the motion several more times before finally taking him fully into your mouth. Slowly, you went deeper, until he hit the back of your throat. Inevitably, a groan escaped him, his self-restraint crumbling as you began to suck him off properly. He moaned, thrusting his hips into your mouth, his grip on your hair becoming desperate to ensure you wouldn't stop. Seeing him in such a vulnerable and desperate state was a sight you never thought you'd witness - Lee Haechan squirming beneath you, completely undone by your actions.

"Oh, f-...uck... that feels so good," Haechan groaned, his voice strained as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked harder. He was thrusting against your face without even realizing it. You didn't blame him; he was so consumed by pleasure that he couldn't control himself. You reached down and gently played with his balls, wanting to see his reaction. The way his eyes rolled back, and his hips momentarily faltered, told you that another touch like that would send him over the edge. With a quick glance at you bobbing your head up and down his cock, Haechan decided he had reached his limit. He grabbed you by the cheeks, pulling your mouth away from his dick. The lewd sight of your saliva connecting you both in a string made him wish he could capture the moment in a picture to enjoy later.

"I need to fuck you right now," Haechan explained when you looked at him with confusion. With those words, he got off the bed and rummaged through one of the night tables, searching for a condom. As he pulled out the small wrapper, you couldn't help but ask, "How did you know that was there?"

"Because this is my room," he said casually, the revelation catching you off guard. Though, it made sense that this was his dorm, given that it was his birthday party.

He swiftly opened the condom wrapper and rolled it onto his cock. Without wasting any time, he climbed back onto the bed and slowly removed your panties, tutting at the sight of how wet you were. "Look at you," he said with a smile, allowing his fingers to explore your slick folds. The way your mouth opened and your eyes screwed shut in response showed just how bad you were needing to be touched there. As one of his fingers slowly entered you, he leaned in and kissed you, his tongue drowning out the moans that escaped your lips. Sensing your growing desperation, he added an extra finger, expertly pleasuring you. "H... Haechan," you moaned into his lips, and he hummed in response, continuing to finger you with more urgency.

"Please... more," you managed to gasp out.

"As you wish, princess," he whispered, removing his fingers from you and licking your essence off them. He positioned himself on top of you, aligning his cock with your entrance. Teasingly, he pressed it against you without fully entering. "Haechan..." you said, your tone suddenly serious, using his dangling chain to pull him closer. "If you don't stop teasing me, I swear I'm going downstairs to find Jeno."

He let out a bitter laugh, but the mention of Jeno noticeably changed his demeanor. Before you could say anything else, he plunged inside you. The immediate clenching of your walls around him caused both of you to moan loudly. Haechan gripped your hips and adjusted your position with surprising care. After a few more seconds, you grabbed his hips and pushed him slightly, indicating that you wanted him to go deeper. Without wasting any more time, he obliged, burying his cock further inside you. "Fuck," he groaned, the sensation of him stretching you feeling too incredible for words.

He began to move, his thrusts gradually gaining speed until he was practically ramming into you. The sight of his pretty face, screwed up with swollen lips from all the kissing and biting, dilated pupils, and droplets of sweat on his forehead, drove you wild.

Effortlessly, he grabbed your leg and propped it on his shoulder, allowing him to penetrate deeper, hitting a new spot that had your mouth foaming. He continued thrusting hard and fast, relishing in the way your breasts bounced with each powerful stroke.

Your whimpering only made him want to see you come undone even more. He leaned in and kissed you softly, the tenderness contrasting with his hard thrusts. You melted into the kiss, moans mixing between you both. He even slowed down his thrusts, lost in the kiss for a moment. But then he unexpectedly started ramming into you again, thrusting harder and pushing you closer to the edge.

"Cum all over my cock, princess," he commanded, his voice hoarse with pleasure. With a few more hard thrusts and the feeling of his mouth devouring yours, you felt yourself reaching an orgasm more intense than anything you've ever before.

"Fu-...oh my god," you moaned loudly, your legs trembling uncontrollably.

Haechan followed suit shortly after, his thrusts growing messier as you clenched tightly around him. He came with a loud, uninhibited moan that reverberated through the room, a sound that would undoubtedly linger in your mind for a long time.

The air grew still, and the only audible sounds were the heavy, ragged breaths escaping both of you. Lying on your backs, you found yourselves staring up at the ceiling, your legs still intertwined, too exhausted to make a move or utter a word.

But then, Haechan shattered the silence.

"Best fucking birthday ever."

a/n: btw i reached 127 followers right after posting this so thank you so much lol *cue the flute*

1K notes · View notes

canisalbus · 7 months

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I'm curious to know what you meant by not having an internal monologue-- like, do you not address yourself sometimes, in your own head? For example-- "I probably shouldn't do that", or, "I guess I look okay today", or, "I wonder what they think of me?" ? (Some people address themselves in second person, ie. "oh you shouldn't have done that", or, "you're gonna be fine".)

Not really? My brain doesn't give me words, let alone sentences. It's mostly just images and concepts.

I can formulate speech in my mind if I put a significant amount of focus on that, it never happens passively. I have a lot of social anxiety (and I'm autistic, for what it's worth) so I often rehearse potential future conversations in my head, but it's a distinct activity that takes up a lot of mental space. I can be sort of slow at writing because it takes a moment for me to convert my thoughts into a verbal form, I keep pausing to try to find the most accurate and effective way to communicate what I'm trying to say.

#answered #cibokilley #it sounds like some of you have really verbose inner voices and that's fascinating to me but also HOW #how did early hominids think when complex languages hadn't been invented yet?#do dogs think in images? do dogs think in SMELLS?

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ur-fav-inactive-writer · 1 year

Text

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤

Pines family x platonic!reader

WC: 1109

Requested by: @kiyomi-uchiha777

Request: what if Bill because this dude is a psycho kills of sister reader after someone or something that made him angry. And what would be the reaction of the characters. Especially when being protective siblings before now losingey little sister

A/N: holy crap I haven't written anything in AGES, anyway, hope you enjoy this, also this will stray from canon a bit but ill try keep it as accurate as possible x

~*~*~*~*~

Bill held you tightly in-between his fingers, Mabel and Dipper clutched tightly in his others. You writhed and struggled but could not free yourself. You heard the desperate pleas of your great-uncles below you. You and your younger siblings attempted to free yourselves but the harder you tried to escape from Bill's grasp, the tighter he held onto you. Eventually, you and your siblings came to the realisation that you were not going to be freed without Bill freeing you himself. Your heart raced, your thoughts ran wild, your body was shaking intensely. The sound of your breathing picking up was only known to you, the shouts of your uncles drowning it out. Every sound inside your head came to an abrupt halt when the booming voice that belonged to Bill sounded throughout the room.

"I've got the kids~~~"

His voice had a hint of teasing to it, it made you feel nauseous. The look of horror that flashed across your uncles' faces caused hot tears to well up in your eyes.

"I think im gonna kill one of them now, just for the heck of it!"

The last part of that sentence seemed to cause time to stop. No, he couldn't do that, could he? The horrifying realisation hit you, at least one of the Pines' children would be dead in less than a minutes time.

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No

Surely, he's just bluffing? He's trying to scare us, right? Your head whipped around to look at your dear brother and sister. Their expressions mirrored yours exactly.

None of you could live without one another. Especially the twins, how would Mabel be able to live without her twin brother there to warn and protect her from dangers she was too naïve to spot? How would Dipper live without his twin sister there to remind him to not overwork himself, to live in a better way? No, neither of them could live like that. But, could they live without you?

You squinted your eyes when a blinding, red light flashed throughout the room. The source of it was Bill's eye.

"Eeny. Meenie. Miny."

Symbols flashed each time a word fell from his mouth, each representing you and your siblings. First, a pine tree. Second, a shooting star. Thirdly, an angel. You were given the angel as your symbol since you were seen as the guardian angel of your siblings.

Perhaps that's why he stopped on you.

Symbols were no longer flashing, one stayed. The guardian angel. He was going to kill you. In less than a minute, you would be dead. You had no time to react before Bill snapped his finger and then,

you were dead.

~*~*~*~

Mabel and Dipper were dropped to the floor, along with your lifeless corpse. The sound of Stan and Ford's shouts rang throughout the room. Once they had recovered from the fall, Mabel and Dipper rushed to your body. Your eyes were closed, you looked so peaceful, so perfect. How could you look so perfect in a situation where its so far from perfect? Sobs fell from Mabels lips, throwing herself onto your body. Her big sister, gone forever. Dipper fell to his knees, too shocked to formulate a sentence or even a reaction. His face was blank as his chest rise and fell faster and faster, his breathing picking up rapidly. Screams and cries from Stan and Ford echoed around the room as their cage disappeared. They ran over to you faster than ever, falling to their knees the same way Dipper had.

No. No. No. How could he do such a thing? Why, why her? Why not Ford? Why not Stan? Why (Y/N)? Suddenly, a group of the townsfolk burst through the entrance, Bill too busy laughing at the sorrow he caused to notice such things. Fiddleford held the Quantum Distabiliser and fired it at Bill. Bill's form evaporated as all the weirdness surrounding everybody disappeared with Bill too. Everything was back to normal. Except, (Y/N) was gone.

The Pines' family found themselves in the woods. They ran, ran, and ran until they found your body. You were laying in a meadow, flowers surrounding your corpse, almost poetically. They fell beside your body and stared.

How could they possibly tell your parents their sweet, beloved daughter was just gone? How can they continue on, knowing that you're never going to come back? Knowing that they will never get to spend another moment in your lively presence? All they could do was cry, cry, cry.

~*~*~*~

Weeks had passed and your parents had come to Gravity Falls for your funeral. They saw it fitting you be buried here, where you spent the best summer of your life. The whole town had come in support. They hosted the funeral in that same meadow they found you in. Due to the grief, when they found you, the fact that you loved this meadow and went there almost daily slipped their mind. They found a swing you had crafted yourself on one of your trips here and surrounded it with flowers.

They buried you in that same spot they found you in, the same spot where they found you laying there with such a peaceful expression it almost made everything seem okay again.

After the funeral, the twins would visit that same spot constantly. Mabel would lay next to where you were buried and ramble about all her troubles for hours, knowing you'd be listening. Dipper would sit on the other side and write in his journal. After your passing, he had almost dedicated his journal to you. About how pretty, smart, caring and amazing you were in your life. Once he had finished his first journal about you, he dug up a small hole a few feet above where your coffin laid, and buried it there. To Dipper, he believed that burying it there would almost be like gifting it to you in the afterlife.

~*~*~*~*~

It had been years since your passing, all the Pines' still missed you dearly though. Not a day went by when they didn't think of you and your kind heart. Stan laid in his hospital bed, his health had been declining over those past few months. Mabel and Dipper sat beside him, the same way they did when you had died. He was dying, fast. They cried as they said their goodbyes, knowing he'd be gone soon. He assured them they'd be okay before taking his last breath. He reopened his eyes, looking towards the twins. Why couldn't they see him with his eyes open? Why were they still crying?

As he wondered these things, he saw a pale blue light in the corner, it was you.

"Long time no see Grunkle Stan."

~*~*~*~

A/N: SOBBING RN. also sorry if this isn't that great, i haven't written anything in a while but I still hope you enjoy! xx

#gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #ur fav inactive writer #gravity falls angst #gravity falls x reader angst #mabel pines #mabel pines x reader #mabel pines x sister!reader #dipper pines #dipper pines x reader #dipper pines x sister!reader #ford pines x reader #ford pines #ford pines angst #ford pines x reader angst #stanley pines #stan pines #stan pines x reader #stan pines x reader angst

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assriels · 5 months

Text

gravity

pairing: lucien x reader

summary: falling in love with lucien felt like trying to resist gravity and realizing it’s a futile pursuit. slowly, and then all at once.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: none/mostly fluff!

a/n: i played around a little bit with my writing style and i really enjoyed it :’) also i’m only capable of writing fluff for lucien i think lol

masterlist

banners by @/cafekitsune !

lucien: derived from the Latin root word lux, meaning light.

When you had first felt yourself falling for Lucien Vanserra some odd years ago, you had been keeping a watchful eye on him — per Rhys’s request — upon his initial arrival to the Night Court under the guise that you would help him research ways to persuade the human queens to your cause against Hybern.

Initially, it had been just that. A favor for your High Lord, your friend.

But what had once felt like a vague indifference for the youngest Vanserra brother quickly devolved into a genuine appreciation for him. The more time you spent with Lucien, the more you glimpsed the light peeking out from beneath his guarded exterior.

(You nearly laughed at how aptly Lucien lived up to the brightness belying the meaning of his name.)

It had started with friendly teasing, then secret smiles over piles of textbooks, then not so accidental touches in the quiet of the townhouse. With each evolution of your relationship with Lucien, the more and more you found yourself wanting to be around him, seeking each other out with flimsy excuses that would guarantee a day’s worth of cherished company.

The inextricable desire you had to be near him that was growing exponentially with every subtle glance he stole had made you nervous. Wary, even.

You were an academic – the coveted researcher for the Night Court – relying heavily on concepts you could study, could quantify. Well-evidenced theory informed much of your advice to Rhys and his court, and you were often the first point of contact when anyone had any questions about…anything; your wealth of knowledge was endless.

But Lucien — his undeniable magnetism — was an enigma; you could never quite understand why you’d felt so drawn to him, could never formulate an accurate hypothesis for how easily he could coax a smile to your lips and make butterfly wings tickle your stomach.

But it was becoming increasingly evident that he felt the same indisputable pull that you did. He had spent much of his time in your presence, bringing you tea in the late hours of the nights you spent in the townhouse’s reading room, poring over tomes and texts that you and Amren had thought might be useful. Lucien always made the excuse that he made too much tea and didn’t want it to go to waste.

(Later, you’d find out that he didn’t even really like the tea he brought you every night, only brewing an excessive amount of it because Feyre had offhandedly mentioned it was your favorite.)

He was rarely there to give his opinions, merely lingering to offer his quiet companionship, situating himself in a comfortable lounge chair in your periphery as he perused the pages of his book of choice. More often than not, he’d fall asleep in what had to be a supremely uncomfortable position, untouched tea cooling on the table.

It was in those sweet and fragile beginnings of your relationship with Lucien that you had begun to contemplate the potential cosmic underpinnings of your mutual fondness for each other, and what that could mean for you and your future.

Orbiting each other like stars caught in the same gravitational field, you and Lucien were on a steady course of stellar collision, sure to erupt in some unexplainable astral phenomenon that would certainly result in your doom. Or your salvation.

(It was the latter.)

The same way you could track the trajectory of an apple falling from a tree and calculate the force with which it would hit the ground, you could guess — with near one hundred percent accuracy — how hard you would fall for Lucien. It was a dangerous descent, you knew, but one that you could hardly fight against.

Despite being quite the closet romantic — how could you not be, with the knowledge of endless possibilities at your fingertips? — you had been hesitant to pursue anything more with Lucien, wanting to preserve the innocent, lighthearted flirtations that had come so easily between you. You’d been hurt before, been wickedly tricked into the dangerous downward spiral of broken promises and fleeting loyalty of lovers past. And you’d be damned if you’d let yourself make that mistake again.

But Lucien…

Lucien was all of things your previous paramours had not been. He was kind and gentle and genuine. Funny and insufferably sweet. He was a wonderfully fresh breath of air in an otherwise stagnant atmosphere.

He had his darkness — he’d admitted as much to you himself. But he had never hidden it from you, had even allowed you the privilege of holding the most tender parts of his past in your hands to examine, always providing ample opportunities for you to deny him, decide that you didn’t want all the pieces of his whole after all.

You had never been afraid of the dark, though, not in the literal or metaphorical sense. It was comforting, quiet, familiar. Besides, before Lucien, you had never found a light bright enough to fear the return of the dark.

But when faced with the sheer enormity of the warmth his light provided, suddenly you were afraid of its absence. You wanted only to spend your time basking beneath the sun you had discovered beneath Lucien Vanserra’s ribs.

It was torturously paradoxical, how the more you chased Lucien’s light the more you were plunged into the dark unknown of what loving him would mean, and how afraid you had become. But resisting Lucien’s solar gravity was like trying to defy the very laws that governed the universe you were lucky enough to live in with him: near impossible.

The way he so effortlessly drew you to him, enticed you to trust him, open yourself to him was something that the greatest physicists of your time could never explain. It was a mystery you weren’t sure you wanted solved for fear that once discovered, he’d be taken from you; you selfishly wanted to keep Lucien’s impossibly beautiful energy to yourself.

He was undefinable in his unwavering loyalty and limitless consideration. Lucien’s love for you seemed to be as intrinsically written into his existence with the same certainty that you knew the sun would rise over the horizon every morning. It was with that same certainty that you knew falling in love with him was inevitable, and fighting it was a futile resistance of gravity.

So you had let yourself fall, let yourself dive deep into the unknown, praying – begging, really – to whatever gods that were listening that this wasn’t another funnel towards heartbreak.

You fell with maddening speed and Lucien caught you – having already fallen long ago – with all of the warmth of the sun that his name promised.

If your past self had ever doubted the stability of loving Lucien Vanserra (read: you did), none of that doubt existed in you now. Especially in moments like this: skin to skin in the morning light of the first spring day in the Night Court. Three years since you and Lucien (separate) became you and Lucien (duo), you could hardly believe that you ever considered any other choice but him.

The sun was warm on your back as you lay on your side, arm tucked comfortably beneath your head as you listened to Lucien give you his annual spiel about how the springs in the Spring Court were unbeatable, though the Night Court did have some acceptable weather sometimes. You giggled at his remarkable consistency, love and fondness filling the space between your ribs, momentarily seizing your heart to flutter giddily.

“Okay, Lu,” you responded in mock exasperation. “And then in the fall –”

“Autumn,” he corrected, just to jest further.

“ – you’re going to tell me that the Autumn Court has the best autumns.”

“Naturally.” His grin was blinding as he teased you, pressing a firm kiss between your brows.

You rolled your eyes but gave in, leaning in towards him – always leaning in towards him (that pesky gravity again).

“But I guess your court,” he continued, “has us beat as far as stargazing goes.”

“Naturally,” you mimicked, winking.

His laugh was a resounding bell of warmth and you took the opportunity to drink him in, warm skin tinted pink with joy and the heat of the morning sun. His hair was disheveled with sleep, but he was impossibly effortless in his beauty.

The freckles on his cheeks reminded you a lot of the stars that illuminated the streets of Velaris, and you spent the next few hours of the early morning drawing constellations on his skin and fabricating stories of their origin while Lucien’s own fingers drew matching patterns onto your back.

He whispered cheesy lines about how you outshone all of the stars in your beloved Night Court, and then his cheeks dimpled — beautiful craters of mirth — as he smiled at your feigned incredulity. He kissed you then, and you once again found yourself at the mercy of his gravitational pull, your body arching almost instinctively against his in an effort to satisfy your craving for the feel of his skin against yours.

Lucien – as always – indulged you, snaking a muscled arm around your waist to pull your body flush against his as he whispered in your ear about how he had heard once that freckles were the spots that past life lovers had kissed the most. In an act of petulant pseudo jealousy at the idea that someone had the privilege of loving Lucien before you, you spent the rest of the morning peppering his skin in a thousand kisses.

“No need to be jealous, my love,” he said as you anchored your lips to the apple of his cheek. “I’m certain that in every life before this one, I enjoyed the pleasure of your affections. And I will continue to find you in every one after.”

Maybe that was it. Maybe the undeniable, visceral need to have him, be with him, love him was written into your bones by the infinite previous lives you spent within each others’ orbit. Your devotion to Lucien seemed as intrinsic as the laws of the universe; there was no life in which you did not feel the warmth of his yearning.

You hummed in contented agreement, feeling as though you’ve just discovered the unthinkable as you continued your quest, reveling in the gentle shiver you earned with a well placed kiss to the junction of his jaw and neck. For a brief moment, you made a mental note to thank whatever force – physical, cosmic, celestial – that had bound you and Lucien together.

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