#even though that’s not really part of the blog itself

[dreadnought-despair]

hey y'all yeah this is the post you think it is

after two official tries and several unposted attempts over the course of almost 8 years, i think im calling dreadnought despair, er... mostly dead? BUT im bringing this blog back! ill be picking stuff to answer from the askbox (keep in mind i have a job and im getting old lol) as well as just drawing the kids bc i miss them

i also feel pretty bad about where i left off, so i'm considering finishing out chapter 1 (if i can remember how i had all the code set up 😬) but it would take A While. so heres a poll

more of an explanation under the cut. if you want to see what else I've been up to, check out my art blog @amelias-art and my twitch [AmeliasArt], where i've started streaming pretty regularly on tuesdays and thursdays around 7pm CST!

im sure this cancellation isn't a surprise to anyone but i just wanted to get this out there for my own peace of mind

it has nothing to do with the wonderful folks who supported me through the years and everything to do with my mental health, getting older, and frankly poor story planning. it's a classic case of a project that never had a strong outline and thus ballooned in scope as it went-- you'll see what i mean when i start trying to answer asks about what would've been the endgame LOL. and ill do my best to answer some stuff, but there are some unintroduced concepts and characters that i would like to save for other stories so i may be vague about parts of it

even if it was masterfully planned, though, it still would've been hard to really pick up again-- I started this fic in college when I was at my most suicidal, and the reboot happened in 2020 which, well anyway,, im in a better place now with a loving husband, a stable job, a healthier relationship with my queerness, and multiple mental health diagnoses and medications. im proud of what i did accomplish with dreadnought, and im grateful to it and the community for getting me through some miserable times, but it's still a reminder of those times in and of itself. maybe by officially shelving it i can move on

thank you so much for sticking around! it really means a lot to me

[vy-canis-melodis]

the following is a blog post, written by tanja, in the Bird HRT universe:

UPDATE and a cancelled article!

Hi all, it's been a long time since my last blog post. Here's the deal; I was in hospital. Long story short, some things went pretty wrong, and here I am, having to deal with a huge backwards step in progress then having had to retrace those steps with additional gooey complications and therapy.

Anyway, here's a journalistic article I was pretty close to finishing and submitting to actual newspapers before everything went down and I had to cancel it.

Rejecting Humanity - Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Just Be Myself

As I write this, I'm sitting in the waiting room of a Hospital cross Research Laboratory in London. By the time you're reading this, I'll have been on my treatment journey for over a year. What treatment, you ask? Well, it's Humanity Removal Therapy. One year ago, I undertook a radical new procedure which slowly transforms you from human to another form. Perhaps you've seen strange creatures out and about; a snow leopard at the supermarket, a dog at the drive-thru, or a tuatara at the thrift shop. Or, perhaps, you haven't; as I write this, the number of patients might not yet have reached triple digits worldwide.

Perhaps I should introduce myself. My name is Tanja ------, and I am an Iberian Azure-winged Magpie, scientific name 'cyanopica cooki'. One year ago, I was fully human, and now I look like a hybrid between our two species. So, let me guide you through my world.

How is this possible?

A little over a year ago, certain medical circles revealed that species transformation had been trialled in mice, turning them into various other creatures, with various success rates from 20 to 80% depending on size and how different the target species was. Now, I'm not for animal testing, but when I heard that human trials were going to open, I kept that pinned to my calendar. And so, after a few months, I was able to finally sign up and have my first interview. Which was… short. Turns out, they had pretty elaborate ways of gatekeeping people who really meant that they wanted it from those that they thought would regret the procedures. They also had a little joke, based on gender HRT, where they would ask if you'd spent years living as your preferred species beforehand. Or at least, I think it was a joke. And then, I was on my way to becoming the bird I love.

How much did it cost?

Well, luckily for me, the NHS provides free healthcare. Then, due to this being a clinical trial, I get paid for being a test subject. Then, due to the effects of the medicine, I receive Disability Benefits. The treatment itself is… a bit of a legal loophole, really. This very article may well be the first you've heard of it.

Is it just a magic pill?

Nope! It's a mix of CRISPR, gene replacement, hormone injections, and surgeries over time. It's a real mishmash, at least in my case. For example, keratinous structures can be grown through selective DNA editing and hormones that stimulate 'hair' growth in specific areas in specific ways. Bone structure can also slowly be altered in some cases through gene replacement, though in some cases, surgery is needed. My back, for example, will soon be undergoing surgery to adjust the way the vertebrae are laid out. Some aspects just are too difficult to be done naturally, and so artificial parts and prosthetics are added. But this complicated procedure has an upside - it means that there is more customisation possible! For example, a Harpy would be a very specific set of applications of Bird HRT that exclude certain aspects such as the face!

Are there downsides?

Definitely. There's the immunosuppression that has to occur to stop new parts from being rejected. There's the high risk of cancers and other diseases to occur as a result of this procedure. There's just the risk that your organs will fail. Most of this is irreversible too.

Why even do it then?

Because, to that small number of people, it's so worth it. This is a new life, an opportunity to discard that uncomfortable human vessel and be yourself at last. For the vast majority of people, being oneself is being human, but that's not the case for everyone.

Is it going to be banned?

Well, that's hard to say. Governments worldwide are, I'm sure, now aware of this phenomenon. And I think it presents a threat to the status quo. This is something new, something scary, something intimidating, that shifts the power balance between subjects and governers. And it's not just because some people have become huge fire-breathing dragons - it's the meaning behind it. They've rejected the very notion of the social contract between humans and crafted a new identity. Do we still count as people? And that's really the question, isn't it. So much of the way government and society works is to split people into groups of those that are 'more' people, and those that are 'lesser' people - and that dictates what societal violences are permissible, for example. This whole new procedure will have to make governments rethink so much, and it can either be a source of worry for us, or a source of hope for everyone. We just have to be loud enough to be heard for who we are.

So what will come next? Well, I'm going to hop on in to my next appointment, and the Earth will keep spinning. My first set of wings has almost reached full-span, and my toe-dexterity is almost at where I was with hands as a human. With my next set of primaries, I may have enough of a wingspan to fly, if I keep my weight low enough. Meanwhile, Parliament will likely have a debate on the issue, as a petition to legalise the procedure has a few thousand signatures on the government's official petition website. I'll be waiting on that result eagerly.

If you have any other questions, I'd be more than willing to answer them!

[alpaca-clouds]

Why I loathe CoD Hector

Something I really wanted to write a proper blog on, is Hector. I answered on another blog on this before, and wrote a shorter thing about this before. But I really wanted to write something on its own. Because I will once again iterate: While Hector in the animated series definitely gets to finish out his character arc, he works a lot better as a character than his game counterpart. And that even though the game came out at the time, where Castlevania tried to go more for storytelling.

Yet, there is this thing, and that mostly comes from it still being an old action-centric game... How the need of making the main characters of action games until sometime in the 2010s into the stoic kind kinda made them worse characters.

I said it before: The Castlevania games for the longest part never really were that interested in telling characterdriven stories and focused more on the gameplay. Which is very much fine. But even when they tried to include more story, for the most part they still keep the brutish, stoic protagonist. Even Alucard, despite looking like a beautiful princess, is very much the stoic male protagonist. This is just a thing with action media that was going on for way too long. Sure, even stoic characters could make for good fan interpretation in stuff like fanfics, it often is an issue that the media itself does not want to actually explore the characters emotions.

Or, to make it fairly clear: This has very much to do with this idea of toxic masculinity. A lot of old action media (not only games, but also movies and such) will not allow male action heroes to show emotional vulnerability, because that would be unmasculine in the eyes of the writers. Which then boils the characters down onto the supposedly "masculine" emotions, like anger and the urge for revenge.

And this is kinda where we get to Curse of Darkness.

We have this whole backstory through the manga, that goes into Hector's background and all that. While I will say that here I prefer the animated version, too, I will fully admit that this is just a subjective thing (I like that the animated version draws some clearer cultural aspects into it, while also giving Hector the agency of killing his abusers, rather than having it happen as an accident), because I definitely can see why people would prefer the manga version.

Where this ends, however, is already at the moment when Hector joins Dracula. Yes, I will fully admit that I am not a big fan of game!Dracula in general, though I will not go into the why here. He works as a game villain, I will admit that, though.

No, what I dislike about Hector's story with Dracula is more the: "And he becomes like the best forgemaster. Like he is so amazing and so strong, and did we tell you how amazing he is?" It goes too much into the power fantasy to me. While I get that the game canon heavily drew on this idea of the main conflict between Hector and Isaac being one of jealousy... I will just say, that a conflict of jealousy is actually so much more boring than a conflict of ideals. And the backstory by far had enough going on there to make it a conflict of ideals, as Hector did still - like in the animated version - not like the idea of killing thousands. Which could have been used for a lot of conflict, but... yeah.

I will still say, that for the most part, the backstory works. While I roll my eyes already at everything with Rosaly, because Rosaly is very much the incanation of the trope where this pure hearted girl saves the soul of the corrupted man (I don't know how this trope is called, but it is for sure a trope), it does work so far.

No, where Hector as a game character stops working is... at the game. Or rather in the moment that Rosaly does do the thing that she as the sole female character in this entire fucking story has to do: She dies so that her death can motivate Hector. And that is to me where game Hector as a character does stop working.

They could have given Hector any motivation to face off against Isaac. They had put up more than enough story fragments in the manga that they could have build from. They could have made it that Isaac wanted to go for revenge and before he could do it, Hector tried to go in there to protect the people he had now learned to love. They could have made it that Isaac tried to ressurect Dracula. They could have made it that Isaac tried to continue Dracula's work until Hector decided that he could not let his former friend do this, because Hector now knows better. There could have been several interesting and good motivations.

But no. Instead they went with: "Girl dead. Boy sad. Boy angry. Boy wants revenge." The fuck?! This is just so bad in terms of storytelling. It is just the refrigerated woman trope, in its most lazy iteration.

They could have given Hector an interesting motivation and conflict. But no, instead they went for revenge. Ugh.

But that was not enough for the writers of this game. Ooooooh no. If it was just that, I would still hate it, but I would be fine with it. Because let's face it, a lot of games use the "revenge for loved ones" trope. Sure, this game is not using it in the most creative way, and it could have done a lot better from the backstory that was set up in other media, but... It is fine. This is fine.

What is not fine however is Julia. I hate Julia. I hate everything about her as a concept.

And again, mind you. I absolutely would not have a problem with Julia if she was just "some girl" or just "Isaac's sister". Then Julia would be fine. It would even be fine if Hector caught feelings for her, even though I would once again roll my eyes at this.

No, what makes Julia so offensive is the fact that she looks and sounds like Rosaly. Meaning, that she explicitly, not just implicitly exists to be a replacement for Rosaly. And that just makes it all so, so badly written.

Worst of all: This gets never explained. Julia just is Rosaly's doppelganger. Just because... Well, because the writers of this game wanted to have their cake and eat it too. They wanted to motivate Hector by revenge for a dead girl, but also wanted to have him end with the girl. And it is just... misogynic writing. I am sorry.

It portrays women as "things" that can be easily replaced. And I hate this so, so much. It is the reason why, even though CoD might not be the worst game in the series, it is by far the one I loathe the most.

And they could have so easily done it differently. Either by not motivating Hector through Revenge in the first place, or by just making Julia a different person from Rosaly. Make her strikingly different and then have Hector fall for Julia. That would have been fine. Just this: "I broke one doll, but I will just get a replacement" thing that game has going is... horrible.

And yes, additionally I will say that another reason why I do prefer the animated version of Hector is, that he is not the stoic kind of character, but he is actually fairly vulnerable. He is a bit of an idiot who easily fall for people. He definitely does not get to have his power fantasy. But it is exactly this that I like. Because it is a story we usually do not get with male characters.

The story of Hector in the animated series is very much a story that would have usually been given to a female character. And I adore this fact. I adore how they switched the gender stereotypes around for this.

Yes, I am well aware that some fans of the games hated this, too. But I honestly have to say: Look, the game characters might have some minor differences, but all in all they all fall under the stereotype of the stoic action protagonist. Yeah, the series needed to switch this around a bit, because it would have gotten boring otherwise.

And frankly. I am sooooo sick of protagonists being all stoic all the time. Give us some variety. It won't kill these characters to smile from time to time... Or, you know, be vunerable.

[stranger-is-alone]

Ok hear me out. U could name the cat Dandelion.

Dandelion it is.

(Wow, after that last post you all really delivered. That’s a lot of names.)

[averlym]

fairest of the fair

[kyra45]

How to spot a scam blog

A very simple guide to figuring out if the blog messaging you is a scam:

Was you sent an ask within some time of sharing a specific type of post such as a trending topic or subject? - Usually scam accounts target particular posts and will spam asks to everyone who shared it. The ask may relate to certain events going on or more. These asks are always sent to many users all at once so it’s suggested to tumblr search part of the ask and see if its been sent by other accounts labeled as a scam or accounts with similar style.

Is the account relatively new? - More often than not, the accounts sending the asks are about a week old or even newer. They haven’t been made too long ago and often send asks within hours of being made. If you have timestamps turned on, you’ll be able to see the date something was posted. A fresher account is usually not going to be one who’s finding you unless they are searching tags and saw your blog.

How many posts are on the account? - Scam accounts rarely have many posts on their blogs beyond the initial pinned post. All their posts, being very few are very little, are most often just posts from a trending topic they looked up or a popular tag they decided to look through. They will share only a few and then make no further posts. This is to pad out their blog to make it look used but it’s easy to see how new the blog is if you scroll to the end.

Are the shared posts fitting a theme? - Scam accounts try to share posts based on the scam they’re trying to run. This means they’ll share posts related to the topic of their choosing and then stop once they’ve shared a few. Most of these posts come from the OP themselves and not from someone the blog is following though in rare cases they’ll find a person to reblog from so they don’t look suspicious.

Are the reblog dates accurate? - If you use timestamps, find a post the blog shared and check ‘Other notes’ and see if the reblog date matches the date that is listed on the blog itself. Often, scammers will backdate posts to make them look much older then they really are in an attempt to deceive people into thinking they’ve used tumblr for months or years.

Is the url auto-generated? - Not always seen from a scam account, but scammers often just use auto-generated usernames because it’s quick and easy to do. But real accounts may have these too. It’s just a thing to keep in mind.

Is the url familiar or similar to one you’ve seen before? - Scammers often try to copy their older accounts by using usernames based around previous scam attempts. It becomes obvious after about a while and usually makes it easy to figure out the scammer is back again. This isn’t always from scam accounts as regular accounts may do this for reasons.

How often do you get asks? - If you barely get asks and suddenly keep getting mutual aid asks it’s very likely you’re just a scammers latest target and they’ll keep spamming asks. This means you’ll consistently get the same style of asks from a brand new account that shouldn’t know you unless they found you in tags. You will keep getting these asks on a daily basis. You will eventually always get these asks.

Did they request you to message them directly? - On rare occasions a scam account will want you to send them a direct message and then they’ll just ask you for thousands of dollars on the spot.

Does your bio say no mutual aid asks? - Scammers don’t read/don’t care they will ignore that and send you asks anyway that won’t stop them.

Short version: More often than not the blog asking you for money is a scam if you don’t usually get asks for money from brand new accounts.

[evermore-fashion]

Did I make a mistake?

As you're all well aware of I said goodbye to my blogs and Tumblr thinking my decision was final. However after reading all your wonderful messages I started to have doubts about my decision. So for the last few weeks I've been trying to pinpoint why I thought I had fallen out of love with high end fashion as well as Tumblr itself and the answer has been in front of my face for the best part of four years. A broken down friendship that has been plaguing my mental health… until recently and I'm going to finally explain why. I had a best friend for the best part of 15 years that went downhill both slowly and unexpectedly. We met on a forum back in 2005 and hit it off instantly. We then met up and went on various holidays, attended concerts together, did mini weekend breaks away and got to know each other's families really well. More importantly they were the only person in my life who knew about this blog and shared my love for high end fashion. Like most friendships though it had its ups and downs but no matter what we always gravitated back towards one another, until March 2020. A week or so before COVID and lockdown took hold of our lives they told me they had met someone. I was genuinely happy for them, except for the fact they had let slip that I was the last person to know. This broke my heart and their trust as they continued to let slip more details that indicated that I was being pushed out in favour of a new crowd (aka university friends who they had told me they disliked a few months beforehand) alongside their new partner. They stayed with their partner on and off throughout COVID and I was either pushed out the door or let back in depending on their relationship status. The relationship came to an end for good towards the end of 2022 and as always I was let back into their life with plans for 2023 being made. However I held back knowing the hurt it would cause me if things suddenly changed again. This was also my breaking point with them as I wanted to protect my heart from anymore hurt, and I believe this is where my love for creativity began to faulter. Whilst I found my love for gaming I felt this mental block around Evermore-Fashion and Evermore-Grimoire which I thought was down to my passions changing. I was clearly wrong. The friendship was up and down for another six months, until last summer. They had got back in contact with me despite the fact they had started acting cold towards me which manifested in a crap Christmas and Birthday. Yet I was still willing to hear their side of the story, but it never came as they ghosted me and I haven't spoken to them since which hasn't been fun to deal with both mentally and emotionally. Although I now fully believe this is what was killing my spirit and everything I had loved for so long. Anyway fast forward to January 2024, I've said goodbye to my blogs and Tumblr when lo and behold I come across a social media post that changed everything. The ex friend had written something personal that contradicted everything they had told me (over their relationship break up) which not only angered me but it lit a fire under my butt to stop stewing in the "what ifs?" as well as holding on to a small bit of hope that they'd finally apologise for treating me like a piece of shit on the back of their shoe for so long. Not only that but I started to miss why I enjoyed being online in the first place. I checked out Vogue to see what was occurring during Paris Fashion Week and I yearned to share the Spring 2024 Couture collections on Tumblr (even though I still think it's still a toxic cesspit). Yes I could easily start this up on Wordpress or Instagram but let's face it, Tumblr is still the easiest place to start blogging creatively. So here I am. The fog surrounding my love for fashion has lifted alongside the mental and emotional baggage I've been holding on to for far too long. There's just one thing I'm still wondering though… do you guys forgive me (as I feel like I've messed you all around ) and is it okay to come back? 🥹

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

QUEEN’S THRONE. 18+

pairing. bucky barnes x fem!reader

> the first image has no implication of readers skin tone, the picture itself has the feel of the fic!!

word count. 2041

summary. you have been feeling insecure and been nitpicking yourself apart. bucky notices and shows you how much he loves your body by asking you to sit on his face

warnings. 18+ only!! reader is feeling insecure within her body and weight, descriptions involving self doubts, little bit of body worship, cunnilingus, face sitting, bucky being a munch and cuming untouched. minors dni

based on this request

No one ever really prepares you for how difficult it is to like yourself, to find parts of your body you don't hate. To not tear yourself apart over things you deem ugly or heinous. 

There's no manual you get for counteracting these doubts in your mind. You're supposed to trick yourself into thinking otherwise - to deceive the mistrust in your brain. But sometimes, the lies you tell yourself to feel better have no effect on you - the affirmations you repeat in rituals feeling like robotic words from self-help blogs. 

You stand naked in front of the full-length mirror in your room, towel on the floor pooled around your ankles. Damp strings of hair collecting on your shoulders, the almost dry strands indicating the time you've stood looking at yourself.

The skin under your eyes soaked with tears, flesh sore and tender from the last near twenty minutes of picking yourself apart. Your gaze hones in on yourself in the mirror, looking at the reflection of your thighs, mindlessly staring at the chub you consider ugly.

Your eyes sadly trail up to your stomach, taking note of the wideness of your hips and patches of stretch marks that litter those areas. Seeing yourself in the reflection after a day of feeling bad about yourself was not a healthy coping mechanism, nor was it one you would encourage - but there was just something inside of you, something inside your brain telling you to nitpick your 'problem' areas. 

It was like there was an evil little gremlin in your mind that made things worse for yourself. That made you give in to the doubts and insecurities - that made you believe them.

Sometimes, you had a better hold on that gremlin, quietening that voice with your own, but on others, like today, that was not the case. You had a difficult day, feeling like a sore thumb everywhere you went - feeling like you stood out in all the worst ways. But that was not the truth - the people you passed on the street were too preoccupied with their own spiral of doubt and shame to even notice your 'problem' areas. 

But, right now, you had no space left for rationality - that loud, pitiful voice overshowing the logical parts of your brain.

You hear a light knock on the door, the sound snapping you out of thought. 

"You've been in there a while. Everything okay?" your boyfriend, James, calls out, his tone soft. 

You clear your throat and grab an oversized tee - throwing on the closest one you can find. "Yeah, out in a minute," you reply, evening your voice to avoid detection. 

"Mind if I come in. Need to grab something," Bucky asks, words muffling behind the closed door.

You hesitate momentarily. "Okay."

The door opens, and Bucky steps into the room, eyes immediately landing on the back of you - head cocking to the side suspiciously. He picks up a t-shirt he pretended to need and walks around the bed to you on the other side - standing beside you as you look out the window. 

"What you looking at?" he asks, subtly scoping you out. 

"Just been looking at the moon," you lie, nodding to the silver crescent in the night sky.

Though he doesn't believe you, keeping his eyes on you as you try to redirect his attention. He extends his neck, reaching his head out to see more than just the side of your face - to see the giveaway he knew was there.

He twists you around more to look at him, making you show your face that you've been trying to hide. His eyes land on yours momentarily before you divert them away, turning from his gaze almost shamefully. He takes note of the sore under your eyes, how they look damp and swollen - how tired you look.

"What's the matter? What's wrong?" he asks, worry evident in his voice. "What's the matter?" he repeats quieter, features softening as he looks at you.

"Nothing," you shrug, turning away from him. "Probably just tired," you partially lie.

He parts focus from you and begins to place together the pieces you weren't willing to share. He glances around the room until he lands on the mirror, the towel on the floor confirming his theory. 

Poking his neck out, trying to meet your gaze again, he calls your name - trying to refocus you.

"You have to stop doing that to yourself," he murmurs, twisting you around to him for the final time. "You're so mean to yourself, and you don't deserve it," he softly shakes his head, reinforcing his words. 

"I wasn't doing that," you reply, bottom lip beginning to tremble with your lie. "I don't do— I don't do that anymore."

His head tilts to the side, not believing you. "Honey," he coos, drawing out the term of endearment as he brings you in for a hug - wrapping you up in an embrace. 

"I don't," you continue, voice almost breaking. "I don't," you repeat, shaking your head softly in the crook of his neck. 

"Okay," he hums, brushing comforting strokes up your back, soothing you. "I know," he murmurs.

He holds you like that, large hands engulfing the middle of your back, caressing you with delicate touch and waiting for you to pull away. 

"I'm sorry," you sniffle, backing away as you wipe your nose on your hand. "I'm being stupid," you shrug with a weak smile, self-depreciation creeping in.

Bucky shakes his head firmly, a soft furrow of his brows indicating his distaste for the topic. He extends his hands to your face, placing palms over your cheeks - stilling your face and making you look at him. "Stop it," he scolds, voice warm and gentle. His hands secure on your face, eyes boring into yours. "You have to stop doing that."

You sigh, a slow, uneasy exhale leaving your lips as if to steady yourself.

"I think you're perfect," he whispers, pressing a kiss onto your cheek - absorbing the tear from your skin. "I wish you could see it too."

His hands leave the placement on your cheeks, moving down to rest on your hips over your tee. One flesh, one metal sitting on the curve. He keeps his eyes locked on you, looking for signs of discomfort, only to find none - your gaze trusting and enamoured. 

Bending at the knee in front of you and at eye level with your 'problem' areas, he glides his hands up your outer thighs - palms running over them intently. He keeps his eyes locked on your upper legs, watching the soft jiggle of the chub - utterly captivated by their beautiful shape.

He hesitantly runs his hands higher and towards your hips, forearms catching on the hem of your t-shirt, rising and revealing your bare pussy underneath. He inhales harshly, the lewd sight of you mere inches away from your face. 

He presses soft kisses over your plump thighs, almost worshipping you - on his knees, kissing parts of you he adores most. He glances up to meet your gaze, your eyes already locked on him.

His kisses trail higher, lining up the crease between cunt and thigh, working up the cute swell of your tummy. "You're beautiful," he murmurs,

words muffling into your hip. "And so perfect."

You rake your fingers into his hair, softly stroking his scalp - all thoughts from earlier dissipating slowly, everything feeling inconsequential with your pretty boyfriend on his knees between your legs.

"Sit on my face," he mutters, pulling away from your stomach to look up at you. "I want you on my face."

Your half-lidden eyes fling open, shock almost slapping you across the face. "What?" you question, gently tugging Bucky's head away from your tummy. "No," you shake your head. "I'll hurt you."

He faintly chuckles as he stands, leaning back onto the mattress. "You won't," he smiles, resting his head on the pillows behind, getting comfortable. "Come on," he nods you over, beckoning you to your throne. 

"I don't know," you reply sheepishly, glancing over him.

"You don't have to sit— just hover."

You step closer and kneel on the bed, pausing like you're debating yourself. "I don't want to squash you."

"You won't," he shakes his head, his expression eager. "Just... come on."

With a gentle sigh and a nod, you crawl up the bed, scooching along the mattress on your knees until you're beside his head. You grip the headboard for support as you lift a leg, placing it on the other side of his head, situating yourself in a hover over his face. 

"I don't want to hurt you— please tell me if I do," you worry, lifting the hem of your t-shirt to get a better look at him below.

"Promise," he says lowly, placing his hands on the swell of your thighs, slowly guiding your pussy closer.

He lays his tongue flat against the slit of your cunt, an immediate pleased hum muffling into your folds. The warm contact of his tongue makes your thighs tremble and breath hitch, everything feeling new from this heightening position. 

With light pressure, he swipes through your pussy lips, tongue lapping you in a leisure rhythm as the tip of his nose bumps at your clit.

His palms graze over your thighs, reaching up to the crease where he can get a hold of you and push you down onto his face. But you notice his pawing and swat his hands off - raising yourself back into a hover and lifting further away.

Bucky doesn't let you go far before he's pushing you back down, a firm grip on your waist keeping you still. "Stay," he muffles into your cunt, caressing it with slow, sloppy kisses.

He laps at your pussy, burying his tongue further into the wet warmth of you - repeated pleasure-filled groans vibrating against you as you give into the bliss. You finally allow yourself to enjoy the moment without doubt getting in the way - all worry slowly being replaced by euphoria as you sink further onto his face.

Meeting his gaze over the top of your pussy, he gives you a wink - the act like silent praise, him voicelessly applauding you for tuning out the voice in your head. 

With one hand on the headboard, you dip the other down, circling the ache in your clit a few times before moving into the short, dark brown hairs at the top of his head. Tugging on his hair as if you're holding him there.

His grip on your waist trails down, moving back to the plush of your thighs where he squeezes - fingers digging into the doughy flesh. He holds you there, muffling moans against your folds as he coats the insides of his boxers in a sheen of his cum - the taste and feel of you alone, enough to send him over the edge.

You twist your neck, looking over your shoulder to the tented cock in his sweats, his head protruding through the wet patch of where he just came. A breath gets caught in your throat at the lewd image, and it all begins to feel like too much, all your senses consumed in the feeling.

With the knot tightening in your tummy, you feel yourself grow closer to the edge - the soft jerk of your hips indicating the closeness of your climax. Within moments, you're cuming on Bucky's tongue, whining broken and spluttered noises into the air.

He continues to hold you there, making out with your cunt through your orgasm - lapping up everything that seeped out. Letting you smear your juices on the bottom half of his face.

You lift your leg from the other side of his head, moving from his face and flopping backwards onto the bed. Laying heads and tails, completely spent. 

But Bucky follows after you - not letting you get far. And before you have a second to process it, he's back between your legs, lips kissing at the soft plush of your inner thighs.

Poking his head up to look at you, he asks. "One more?"

[lorelune]

O4O: part i

|| jing yuan x reader || E/18+ || omega for omega, soft smut || wc: 10.3k  || ao3 ||

Jing Yuan has been content riding out his heats alone for centuries. You, despite being another omega, are happy to lend a hand if Jing Yuan will have you.

minors, antis and ageless blogs dni

💦🎀 this piece is apart of SPRING FEVER: an omegaverse collab! 🎀💦

part i (here) — part ii — part iii (coming soon!)

notes: hello omega jing yuan omega jing yuan save me... the way omega jy has haunted me for months. MONTHS. this fic is incredibly indulgent soft, needy smut with non-traditional a/b/o dynamics. THANK YOU to the lovely @owlespresso for beta reading!! please read the tags and enjoy!! <3

CW: a/b/o dynamics, omega jing yuan (with afab and amab anatomy), omega reader (afab anatomy), past yingxing/jing yuan/dan feng, bottom jing yuan flavors (though reader does not do any penetration), use of toys, worldbuilding around omegaverse, lots of biting, milfy jing yuan, mommy kink without the word mommy (at least not in this part 👀💗!!),

Jing Yuan has not shared his heat with anyone in a very, very long time. Centuries, most certainly. Jing Yuan doesn’t find it very useful to keep track of that length of time— he finds it cumbersome if anything. There’s no use holding onto a past that only forces him to redigest pain. 

Jing Yuan rarely has heats. He keeps a diligent schedule of medication and only has to go through them once every decade or so. Occasionally less, if the Luofu is passing a particular star system or comet field. His heats are always cumbersome. He can conceal his omegan sensibilities often, but it is more difficult prior to a heat.

Preheat is a different beast.

When Jing Yuan sequesters himself in his estate for the better part of a week, anyone who knows he’s even there assumes it is to go through a rut. A week is a standard amount of time to take off for a rut and is expected. However, a heat has a standard time off of about two and a half weeks. Much longer to accommodate preheat and nesting needs. 

Jing Yuan rarely indulges his own. 

The Luofu, at large, assumes he is an alpha. This is manufactured, however only partially. Generally, the citizens of the Luofu assume, given that he is the General and he has a larger, broad-shouldered stature, that he is an Alpha through and through. He always wears scent patches in public, which is normal for both omegas and alphas. Betas, too, occasionally. Depending on the subtype. The Charioteers know that he is an omega, but they are committed to some amount of discretion and guard the information as a secret. Lady Fu, an alpha, will occasionally scold him for being so secretive. Like he harbors some sort of self-hatred that he is an omega. 

It is simply more convenient for him to be seen as an alpha. Jing Yuan doesn’t wish to disturb this perception.

And therefore, it is much easier to wait as long as possible between heats and bear them alone. Whatever instincts he has can be satiated with toys and a half-decent nest. Jing Yuan has always considered this enough. ‘Enough’. 

(It’s not sating. Jing Yuan cannot lie to himself about this. He remembers laying with Yingxing, and how the alpha made him feel more full and content than Jing Yuan had ever thought possible during a heat. Or ever, truthfully. He remembers how calming Dan Feng’s presence had been— grounding and reassuring, too. Jing Yuan was fucked, filled and protected. An omega’s dream.)

Jing Yuan... copes with what he has. A large, plush bed with a downy mattress, a few donated, alpha-scented garments, and a collection of inflatable, knotting toys. He always leaves his heat with lingering cramps, a brutalized hole, and a yearning that takes a few weeks to quiet itself. 

It is natural that he craves his mates. Even if they are long dead (not dead. Not really. Not the same as they once were, anyway.)

And certainly, never to be his again. The mating mark on his neck has long faded.

Jing Yuan tracks his heat so such yearning can be anticipated and planned for. He knows when his heat is approaching, down to the specific day it will occur. He titrates off his suppressants carefully, and maps out a portion of time off for himself a year or so in advance. 

Which is why it is very odd that he starts exhibiting preheat symptoms in the middle of the day, a random day, during a tactical meeting.

Even if he had been titrating down his dose in anticipation for a planned heat in a few months time, it is far, far too early to begin feeling symptoms. The familiar itchiness prickling under his skin is entirely unexpected. Jing Yuan has to put a particularly large amount of effort to get through this unnecessary meeting without letting a single symptom slip. He can only adjust in his seat so many times before it is improper, or juggle the cradle of his jaw from one hand to the other before it is clear something is wrong. 

If any of the Charioteers and their advisers notice anything amiss with him, they say nothing. The only one who looks off-put is Fu Xuan. She’s a spitfire alpha herself, and perhaps she’s keen enough to notice that Jing Yuan is beginning to feel... unwell. Though he is masking his scent as he always does, he imagines that the flush in his cheeks is becoming increasingly obvious.

Fu Xuan gives Jing Yuan a wary look as the meeting is dismissed.

“General,” She says curtly. “Are you well?”

“I’m fine,” He gives her a rich laugh as he stands, muffling a groan as his stiff back and knees ache. He’d sat for too long. He feels light-headed as he rights himself and Fu Xuan glares at him.

“I doubt that,” Fu Xuan huffs. “I will not interrogate you in public, nor do I think you would give me an honest answer even if I did—”

“So little trust in me, Master Diviner—”

“ However, I will urge you to go home. ” She takes a step closer and sniffs the air. It’s just the two of them in the meeting room now, the rest of the parties in attendance having filtered out. Subtly and without fanfare, she takes his hand in her own, and presses her wrist to his. Jing Yuan keeps an easy grin on his face but can’t help the way he tenses his fingers, flexing them at the contact. “Do you need an escort?”

“Is Lady Fu worrying for me? How kind.”

“I’m— not, ” Fu Xuan huffs now and more roughly smears their wrists together. The scent gland she is almost abusing is swollen and hot to the touch. It takes all of his composure not to squirm with her treatment. “I’m no fool. If you have a heat starting, you should be comfortable at home, not in a war room.”

“Master Diviner, you think I’m an omega?” Jing Yuan says with a smile. He knows she is already privy to this, but he can’t resist teasing her a bit.

“You are insufferable. Even in this state. Go home. I will take you there myself.”

“I’m afraid I can’t return home just yet,” He hums. He imagines he has a few hours before proper pre-heat sets in. “I have a lunch date that I cannot miss.”

“You— a lunch date?”

“Yes, of course. It’s a scheduled event, dear Diviner.”

“Do not patronize me.”

Jing Yuan laughs as she fumes. He has the urge to ruffle her hair, but thinks better of it. The complicated updo would surely be ruffled, and Jing Yuan is already getting an earful as it is. 

“I would never.”

Fu Xuan yanks her arm away with a growl. She wears some type of masking perfume, she always has, but with her frustration swirling, a bit of her actual scent peaks through. It’s light on the back of his tongue, floral almost. Nearly inedible, but the kind of scent Jing Yuan that makes him nostalgic—

(For a master with a scent like frost-covered roses, and a packmate with a scent filled with springtime lilac blossoms in fat clusters.)

“If this lunch is really so necessary, may I escort you there at least? Or will your alpha be meeting you here?”

“They’re not an alpha.” Jing Yuan hums. His stomach feels warm regardless. “And I’ll be just fine getting there myself.”

Fu Xuan looks at him, questioningly. Her lips open, then close once more. There are questions she clearly has. And for all her brashness and hot-blooded fervor, she understands decorum better than most. She pries out of care and her good intentions, and Jing Yuan can respect that if nothing else.

“I’ll concede,” Fu Xuan sighs. “ However, please let me know if there’s anything else you need. You have my number.”

“Noted.” Jing Yuan rises, and feels the heat clouding his head sink lower in his body. He’s being engulfed. 

Fu Xuan deadpans, “General—”

“Have a good rest of your day, Master Diviner,” He calls with a light laugh, slipping away before Fu Xuan can give him any further grief.

...

As the Arbiter General of the Luofu, Jing Yuan knows its streets and secrets very well. There’s more than one way to arrive at his favored terrace garden without being seen or smelt by the public. It is helpful that this path is lined near an aqueduct stream, surrounded by lush greenery and clumps of fragrant azure asters. This path is tucked away, straddling an external tunnel of the Luofu’s inner tunnels. Really, only the Calibrators aboard the ship use it, and as there are only a few and they tend to keep to their delve, Jing Yuan has very little fear walking this way at his own leisure.

He is glad you tend to take your lunch dates in the privacy of this particular garden, under the gazebo and nestled atop its many silken blankets and pillows. A conventional restaurant in this state would be doable, but unideal. 

Jing Yuan can smell you as he approaches. It makes him pause, just outside the gate. His hands hovers over his jade abacus as he opens his mouth to taste you in the back of his mouth.

(Warm, a familiar scent that he associates with the rare indulgence of relaxation. It’s not overly sweet or ripe, but balanced and full-bodied. Not quite floral or fruity, and not deep enough to be akin to an aged black tea. Perhaps like the roll of a hearth or the beeswax of a lit candle.)

He’s sighs. It calms him instantly. 

Even if you aren’t an alpha, you are familiar, as is the current setting.

You’re sitting at a low table in the shade of the gazebo. There are several plates of cheeses, cut fruits, salted meats, and nuts laid out. You’re ladling sticky honey into a small dish as he enters, and look up at the sound of the gate closing.

You smile when you see him.

“General,” You smile. “I apologize, I started setting up lunch without you. Everything should still be chilled.”

“No need to be sorry,” he laughs gently, brushing a hand against your shoulder before rounding the table, and taking a seat across from you. “I could never complain about your diligence. You have chosen quite the spread today, haven’t you?”

You flush with a nod, and gesture down to the table, “The markets were lovely today, I had to splurge. You’ll have to let me know what you think.”

“Only if you do the same.”

“I-I can do that,” You smile at him softly.

Despite your familiarity, you still regard him with some amount of anxiety. Jing Yuan has long since placed this has less to do with his status as General, and more than likely due to a deepened amount of affection that Jing Yuan... entertains. Enjoys. Thrives off of, even. He perhaps returns it, though he hasn’t told you that explicitly.

Besides, you believe him to be an alpha. He’s sure that, if you did know his secondary gender, such affections would fade quickly. The allure of what he could provide as an alpha is quite different from what he can provide as an omega.

Jing Yuan takes a sip of sparkling juice, and as he lowers the thin-necked glass, you look at him strangely. A crease knits itself between your brows.

“Did I get some on my face?” Jing Yuan chuckles and wipes at the corners of his mouth with his thumb.

“No... you just,” You stumble with your words, hands flexing in your lap. “Are... are you alright? Your cheeks look quite warm, and you’re sweating around your hairline.” 

You always have been keen to bodies other than your own. It’s not the most common trait. 

“... Am I?” Jing Yuan could choose to lie at this moment. It would be easy to say he was using a new brand of suppressants, or blame it on a stressful day. However, he doesn't like lying to you, only twisting the truth when entirely necessary. “I do suppose I’m at that point in my cycle.”

“Oh!” You startle and sit up more straight. You push a plate at him. “Pre-rut? You should eat, then. You’ll need your strength. Do— do you have someone I can call? I don’t mind.”

Your worry is cute. 

Jing Yuan can’t help thinking about it. You are an omega full of so much care and urge to help. Jing Yuan has seen it and experienced it many times, and has also seen how it has gotten you into unfortunate situations. You have a trusting mind and spirit, and more than once, it has been used against you. 

Jing Yuan likes keeping you close, so he can look after you, even if it’s from a distance.

He stares down at the plate. There’s a pile of glistening orange grapes, a few roses of sliced, cured meats, a chunk of honeycomb, and buttery looking crackers. It does look delicious, however Jing Yuan has always struggled to eat in his pre-heat. When he looks up at you to decline, your expression looks even more worried, almost sour.

Before he can speak, you are. Petal-soft lips lips downturned. “Are you... not in pre-rut, General?”

He deflates, slightly. He is old— and. He does not wish to steer you away from what is a correct assumption. You are his most trusted companion.

“I am not,” He says softly, and picks up one of the grapes. He squeezes. The skin is taut and tight. “And, please call me Jing Yuan. Formalities can be dropped, yes?”

“I— yes, of course.” You look from his plate to him. “So, you’re... pre-heat?”

“I am, yes.”

“Oh!” You immediately heap his plate with several other kinds of fruit, and grab a clean glass and pour ice water from a pitcher into it. “I apologize— for. Making such an assumption.”

“No need to apologize.” He soothes and lays a hand over yours. “I’m aware of what the vast majority of the Luofu assumes my secondary gender to be. It does not bother me. If it did, I would have corrected the greater public long ago. I apologize for not telling you directly until now.”

“It’s— okay,” you reply. Perhaps a bit hurt. “I never asked. I just— I just thought. Wrong.”

(Please be kinder to yourself, he thinks. It hurts to see you saddened on my account.)

“Nonsense,” he laughs and gracefully takes the water you offer. He downs the glass down his parched throat. He— hadn’t realized how thirsty he was. “No harm done. If anything, I’m grateful that you now know.”

(Regardless of how it could change your feelings toward him.)

Jing Yuan has tempered heartbreak for millenia. Another one— is not nothing, but it is manageable. Perhaps not during preheat, but he still has time to mourn. 

“I’m glad too,” you tell him, and squeeze back his hand. You only scent him sometimes, always so shy about it, but now you firmly rub the scent gland in your wrist against his. His aches, and the sensation and exchange of pheromones nearly makes him wheeze. He straightens his spine. 

“Was that—?” You almost pull away.

“No, it’s very welcome.”

You stare at him, intent and soft, before settling. Tentatively, you rub at the gland in gentle circles.

“You should eat,” you say after a moment. “Do you have an alpha I can call? Or— um, anything you need me to pick up for you?”

“I am fine.” Jing Yuan will text Qingzu for the essentials, rather than troubling you. “I’ll finish lunch with you, and then see myself home.”

“... No alpha to pick you up?”

“None to speak of, no.” Jing Yuan manages a smile.

(It has been— centuries since Jing Yuan had an alpha to care for and stake a claim on him. The notion of finding another has been put out of his mind since he himself had to confine Dan Feng to the Shackling Prison and exile the man Yingxing became. Even after meeting them as they are today, Jing Yuan knows they are no longer his mates.)

“Oh.” 

Every one of your emotions is so clearly on your face. You look so sad for him and you squeeze his hand. He has half a mind to pull away, and remind you that he does not need your worry. However, he is in pre-heat, and by Lan, he is craving worry.  

“And... heatmates?” You ask. “I don’t want to pry, but it’s hard to spend a heat alone.”

“Once again, none.” Jing Yuan replies without hesitating. The silence that follows is poignant as you study him. 

“I see.” You frown again, clearly thinking. Jing Yuan can see the thoughts turning around just behind your eyes. You pile on even more fruits to his plate. “Eat, eat. You need it.”

“This much fruit will give me a stomach ache, I fear.”

“Some of it, at least!” You huff at him. “For me, please?”

Jing Yuan meets your gaze, easy and soft. There’s no threat, only the heat that matches your scent and the feel that radiates in his chest.

(You are not his alpha. You are something entirely different— something that he wants so badly to hold.)

“For you.”

...

By the end of lunch (in which, Jing Yuan does manage to eat a decent amount of the fruit you’d put on his plate), Jing Yuan’s pre-heat has begun to simmer into a more uncomfortable territory. He desperately wants to shed his uniform and armor, and slip into a robe and no bottoms. He hasn’t begun to slick yet, but he will surely start to by sundown.

Jing Yuan stands after the meal, stretching. It’s proper afternoon now, and the birds of the garden chirp eveningsong. 

“Jing Yuan?” You ask as he stretches his arms above his head. His name sounds lovely in your mouth.

He hums, “Yes?”

“Do you want a heatmate?” You ask quietly. 

He looks at you. 

You’re fiercely meeting his gaze, even though you’re clearly struggling to. Your bottom lip is tucked between your teeth, and you’re fighting a frown from the crinkles on your forehead. Regardless, you stand your ground and ask a question that is surely difficult to broach, especially so directly.

“I—I am offering.” You stammer. “To clarify.”

“To be my heatmate?”

“Yes— I hate to think of you suffering alone, Jing Yuan. If I can be by your side to ease it, if only a little, I would like to be.”

“That is very brave of you to ask.” He smiles with a tilt of his head. “And bold.”

“I— I’m being honest.” You almost whine. It’s so cute. “Is that a no?”

“No, not at all.” Jing Yuan replies. “However, I wouldn’t want you to help solely for my benefit. If you wish to enter my nest exclusively to be an aid, and not out of... personal wants, I would feel guilty.”

“It’s— it’s personal wants too.”

“... Is it now?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

“Even though I’m not an alpha, as you thought?”

“Yes.”

“You’re certain.”

“ Yes, Jing Yuan.” 

“I cannot give you a knot—”

“I do not need one!” You break, much to Jing Yuan’s amusement. “I am happy to be by your side, regardless of that! If anything, I’m more than happy to share a nest with you without the assurance of a limp and a potential pup.”

Jing Yuan smiles, almost unrestrained, and your cheeks heat deliciously. 

You stammer, and poke at his chest, “You’re teasing me—!”

“I apologize, you must forgive me—”

“ Rude—!”

Your bury your face in his chest and nuzzle there. It’s— clearly a self soothing action, one you realize a moment too late isn’t quite proper. You stiffen, beginning to draw away, before Jing Yuan catches you by your scruff and holds you there. 

“You’re alright,” He holds a wide palm there. “I apologize for teasing you. I mean so warmly.”

“... Scoundrel.” The sound muffles into his chest.

“Am I?”

You peer up at him, so warm in the cheeks and eyes... almost watery. Something in his chest feels sticky and molten. 

“ Yes—” You dare to meet his eyes again. “But, one I’m very fond of.”

Jing Yuan steels himself.

You are an omega. It is not your pheromones addling his mind. There is clarity in the attraction and affection he has for you, one not influenced by the urge to be knotted and bred. Though, Jing Yuan wants that, maybe part of him needs it. There is a trunk full of toys and implements he has tucked away that will sate the urge. The feelings that he carries for you will not so easily be placated.

“I would like it very much if you were to share my heat with me,” He speaks softly, just for the two of you to hear. Not even the garden birds will know his words. “If you are still offering.”

“Yes,” You say quickly, tentatively wrapping your arms around his waist. “Yes.”

He chuckles, easy and low, and presses his nose into your hair. Perhaps it’s pre-heat, making him sentimental and mushy. He usually hides out and bears it alone in his comfiest nest so these feelings typically do not get expressed in any other way other than delirious, anguished cries while a knotting toy takes the edge off. 

Jing Yuan finds these are nice to indulge, as your scent envelopes him.

...

“I lied earlier,” Jing Yuan says as you enter the threshold of his estate. “I apologize sincerely.”

“Oh?” You ask with a tilt of your head, accepting a pair of house slippers eagerly. “... What about?”

“I am in pre-heat unexpectedly. Though I have been tapering suppressants for an anticipated heat, it has come far earlier than planned . Things are... not as I would like them. You’ll need to excuse me for a few moments.”

Jing Yuan, like any omega, is particular about his home and nest, especially around his heat. He knows his home and inner chambers are not to his liking and he’ll need to prepare them. Even if you aren’t an alpha entering his nest, you are a guest and companion he is very fond of. You deserve only the best.

“Of course, whatever you need,” you assure him. “Do you need me to grab anything while you do so? I don’t mind running to the market—”

Jing Yuan turns on his heel, grabbing your arm firmly, “You’re not leaving.”

“O-Oh.”

Your eyes widen, and heat rises in your cheeks. Your throat bobs as you swallow and nod. Jing Yuan— were he not in pre-heat, would perhaps be a bit embarrassed by his brazeness. However, now? The idea of you leaving his home sends him reeling. You cannot leave— not until you smell like him and his nest. Not until— not until this is over.

“I sent a request to Qingzu to fetch us a few things during the walk over. She’ll be here shortly. I do, however, have a bowl of fruit that could be cut up while I get myself sorted. How does that sound?” 

You nod eagerly, happy to follow instruction. Jing Yuan knows this about you and enjoys it thoroughly.

He sets you up in the kitchen with a bowl of sunsiettas, a box of meldberries, and a few bunches of perfectly ripe, round kaishen grapes. Jing Yuan leaves you to the task, which he can already tell you will do dutifully. You thrive off of praise and direction. It’s a dangerous trait of an omega to carry, even more terrifying to hold openly as you do. Jing Yuan knows it has burned you before.

However, he intends to indulge you well and kindly, as it pleases him very much.

His mind, far-too warm and itchy, yearns to spin fantasies as he locks himself in his room with a shake of his head. 

He must keep it together. Just for awhile longer. His bed is— not a nest. Not the nest he wants (needs) it to be. His duvet, thick and luxurious as it is, needs a fluffing and a fresh scenting. His pillows are not arranged to his liking, and he needs to poke through his linen closet and add some extra layers as well. He needs to make sure there’s lube nearby with clean toys. Water out. His phone charged and volume on— (though, he already sent a message to Qingzu stating his heat has hit and he’ll be out for at least a week. ‘Defer to Diviner Fu :3’ , which is Jing Yuan’s payment to Lady Fu for the list of errands he had sent her.)

Jing Yuan shakes his head with a laugh. The little alpha will certainly be pleased when she hear she’ll get to play General for a while. 

Pre-heat drives him forward. He sheds his many layers (without aid, which is objectively a headache and he regrets not asking you for assistance initially. However, Jing Yuan is fairly certain that if he were to be fully bare around you, regardless of his pre- heat or not, he may jump you and drag you into his nest—)

Pre-heat is also making him somewhat irrational.  

He throws on his favored robe, a silken, cream-colored garment with delicate gold and red embroidery around the hems. The sleeves drape at his wrists and a sash ties it snugly around his waist. The itch that’s been rolling around just under his skin feels duller, with the less restrictive garment. The fabric crosses over his chest in a way that is... revealing. Probably too revealing, under any other circumstance, especially given that you have never seen him in anything less than his daily regalia. 

The thought of looking so indecent around you has its allure to it. One that Jing Yuan lets himself entertain with a smitten smile as he works.

He is attracted to you, surely. This he knows and has known. 

Jing Yuan acknowledges that this is both emotional and physical. You are dear to him, truly. In a way that is unique to any of the connections, he holds in the present. Your presence is one he thoroughly enjoys, and, more than once, (many times), has craved during his late-evening ruminations in his courtyard. He— has thought about inviting you over, if for nothing else than a chat in the moonlight and tea or wine to your preference, however—

He has always stopped himself.

Yearning, he will allow in the ways he has learned to manage it over the centuries. Small doses of longing that can be enjoyed and swallowed down, without festering. Being brazen with his wants and feelings is... slipperier. Especially concerning you, as you are dear to him, and Jing Yuan, for better or for worse, would like to share space with you for as long as he can manage. 

This attraction is regardless of secondary gender. 

Jing Yuan has not cared about secondary gender for a great while (since he shared a bed with a short-lived alpha and one of Long’s Scions, who, like all Vidyadhara, did not have a secondary gender at all.) 

Your presentation as an omega was never a deterrent to him. If anything, it was something of a comfort. Jing Yuan was claimed long ago, and he knows that no alpha’s claim will feel the same as Yingxing’s and he wouldn’t want anyone, especially you, to attempt to emulate it. The ownership of a claim was not something he sought. Jing Yuan has had his heart broken enough for this lifetime. He is sure you could rend his heart asunder, however it would not be in the way of losing a mate that he is biologically tied to. 

Statistically, Jing Yuan is lucky that such a loss did not cause him to become Mara struck five hundred years ago.

He is very content with whatever your relationship could become. If nothing else, the prospect of it allures him. Especially now that you know his presentation and clearly seem undeterred yourself. If— if anything. Your scent calmed and cooled when he’d told you on the terraces. 

Another thing that Jing Yuan will have to parse when he isn’t so wet that he’s leaving puddles in his wake. 

For now, Jing Yuan’s nest is satisfactory aside from a few personal items. 

Now, all it’s missing is you. 

...

Jing Yuan does not find you in the kitchen, but rather the foyer, wishing Qingzu a goodbye with a wave and shout. 

Jing Yuan must—

(Temper his instincts because you are far too close to the door and you need to be in his nest and his teeth need to be in you and his scent on you—)

“Jing Yuan,” you say to him warmly, with a smile. There are a few canvas bags on your arms. “How are you feeling—?”

Jing Yuan can’t stop himself from dragging you away from the tall set of doors and back to the kitchen. You squawk at his firmness, but don’t reject his touch. He helps you heft the bags onto a low table. His own arms shake, with both the strain and his own heat-induced weakness.

“It’s really progressing, huh?” You tentatively raise a hand, and place it on his forearm to stroke there.

Jing Yuan practically purrs when you rub over the silken fabric, “It is. Quickly. However, my nest and appropriate supplies are ready. Did Qingzu deliver all that I asked?”

“It seems so.”

There are— three more bottles of lube. A few pearly-looking medicine pills, a specialty item from the Alchemy Commission. Several stacks of ready-made meals and electrolyte powder. There are several vials of milky-looking oils he had her grab for more scandalous purposes as Jing Yuan would like to avoid any type of friction abrasion. Lastly, there are few unmarked boxes with new toys.

“You’re so well-prepared.” Your eyes are wide as you take stock of the haul. Jing Yuan bundles things into a basket and ushers you to his nest.

“I have gone through many heats,” he chuckles. “I have learned the best tricks.”

“I-I can see.”

As you enter his bedroom, you stare at his nest with wide eyes. You jump when Jing Yuan locks the door.

“... Is that alright?” Jing Yuan asks.

“Yes, yes, of course. I just—” You swallow. “I haven’t ever helped another omega through a heat. If you have any pointers or preferences, let me know while you’re still in your full mind, please? I’d like to make this as comfortable for you as possible.”

Jing Yuan thinks for a moment. With a tilt of his head, he rests his hands on your shoulders. Your scent is spiced, a bit nervous, but also undeniably aroused. Your gaze darts down to his exposed collarbones and chest, then quickly back up to his eyes. Heat rises fiercely in your cheeks. 

“Your presence will be helpful in and of itself,” he assures you with a squeeze. Carefully, he hooks his thumbs on your outer garment and pulls it down, undoing buttons and ties along the way. Your lips part, breath hot. “I’ll guide you as I need. My heats tend to be mild, though they do last a full week. There will be lulls, which I tend to be quite worn out during. I’ll need your assistance more than anything.”

You nod, taking in his response. 

Jing Yuan— he’s holding it together. Slick is beginning to drip down his inner thighs and there’s an ache in his core that feels heavier and hotter by the minute. However, he does want to do this part slowly. He prides himself on his patience. Piece by piece, he takes off your day clothes and tosses them into his nest. Without them, your scent is stronger. Your neck is bare from any topical or adhesive blockers.

“During the rest of it though?” You ask, softly. “When you’re in the throes of it.”

Jing Yuan hums, letting a shaking hand rest on the curve of your waist, “I’m not certain. It’s been quite some time since I’ve shared a heat with anyone.”

“... Really?”

“Yes.” Jing Yuan presses his lips to your forehead without thinking. The heat of it, of you, sinks into his own. He feels like he’s going to burn up. “Does that surprise you?”

“Yes.” You answer, and push yourself closer to his neck. Your lips part to taste his scent on the back of your tongue. “You are a catch. I know you have quite the lineup of suitors... I just assumed.“

“You also assumed I was an alpha.”

“The General is a skillful liar.”

Jing Yuan clicks his tongue, sliding a hand below your last garments. Satin, lacey things that are almost sheer. Thin. He could tear them easily, but doesn’t. His touch lingers.

“ Jing Yuan,” he reminds you. You stammer before pitching into him. He carefully walks the two of you backwards. His legs are close to giving out. “And I’d like to think of it as a skillful withholding of unnecessary information.”

“ Jing Yuan is very good with his words,” You murmur into the soft skin of his neck, lingering around one of the scent glands there. They ache, sore and unstimulated.

So carefully, you stretch up on your tiptoes to nose at one of them. Your scents bloom together and his eyes almost roll back into his head at the meld of it, the relief and rush of connection. 

It’s the last push Jing Yuan needs before dragging you into his nest with a stifled moan. Coherency is shattered and all he can do is crave, crave, crave.

...

You are a good heatmate.

Astoundingly good. Attentive, kind, and so soft. It’s a relief to Jing Yuan, who’s heat-addled mind is so used to loneliness and cold. You do not have the scent or knot of an alpha, but you’re more than enough. It’s presence and comfort in a way Jing Yuan so, so missed. It’s enough in a different way— and that difference is good. 

(You are not Yingxing or Dan Feng, and Jing Yuan is grateful that you aren’t.)

Jing Yuan finds himself on his back, with you wrapped around him. You let him pillow his cheek against your collarbone. His nose presses against your scent gland, and he pants against it with an open mouth and spit slicked lips. Your hand lays over his chest, cupping his breast while gently thumbing over his nipple. He’s so swollen there, aching.

He cries out as you pinch, as if it could relieve any of the pressure roiling around under his skin.

You curl closer into him with your lips against his temple. “Does that feel good?”

He can only keen and hope you understand that it’s a plea for more. 

You must because a moment later you’re squeezing with your entire hand. It’s— too big of a handful for you. Your fingers are soft and your touch gentle. The visual of the plump flesh of his chest bulging out from between your fingers rewires Jing Yuan’s brain for a craving he never knew possible. A rush of slick gushes from his cunt and— it’s so much. He lurches into your neck, licking blindly at your scent gland. Vaguely, he notices you stiffen and your scent grows a little sharper. 

It’s worry. Jing Yuan can’t have that.

With every ounce of his strength, Jing Yuan rolls you below him, and sits on your hips. You let him, so pliant and agreeable, and lay below him. Jing Yuan’s breath catches and drool slips to the corners of his mouth.

You are beautiful. You look debauched, and you’re not the one in heat. You’re flushed and damp with sweat, just as he is. The robe he’d draped you in is mostly open, revealing supple skin and your last bastion of modesty in the form of a cute pair of panties that Jing Yuan will fantasize about later. 

You look up at him in awe, lust-hazed just like him. There’s little composure to be had as your fists ball up in the sheets around his thighs. Your gaze goes glassy as you look from his face down to where he’s seated atop you and back again.

“No teeth,” he assures you. It is the last coherent thought he has, if only to provide your some comfort.

You look up at him sweetly and nod, grabbing the plump flesh above his hips. “No teeth.”

(A claim wouldn’t take, anyway. Not really. Omega-to-omega pairings lack the necessary pheromones to stake a claim on each other. The most it would do would indicate that whoever has been bitten is a submissive-leaning packmate. Which— Jing Yuan actually would not mind biting you. He would like his teeth in your neck if you would ever allow him.)

He groans at the thought, lowering his head as a silver mane of hair spills around his face.

Jing Yuan is drenched and hard, leaking from the tip of his cock and seam of his cunt. It’s— filthy. You’re soaked too, with a mix of him and undoubtedly yourself too, though Jing Yuan can’t scent it over the smell of his own heat. It’s regrettable as he is sure the mix of you must be divine. Heavenly. 

He wants it in his mouth.

Jing Yuan slinks down your body, licking and sucking at patches of your skin. You try to bat him off, haul him up and away from your own leaking sex, but he resists. He needs a taste or he’ll die, probably. His heat can be quelled in a number of ways, he presumes.

With his face buried in your cunt, surrounded by your scent, the ache for a knot is dulled. When you cry out on his tongue, it is almost deafened.

Jing Yuan drinks you up— he should pay more mind to your clit, probably, if he wants to get you off properly. However, he is so immensely distracted by your entrance and the essence of you that’s leaking out. There’s a rapidly widening damp spot beneath your ass. A steady flow that Jing Yuan needs in him. 

He seals his mouth over your cunt, and prods his tongue inside of you. He presses so close, suffocating with his nose tight to your clit, to lap at your insides. 

You— you wail above him. Your hands bury in his increasingly tangled mess of hair for any sort of leverage. Jing Yuan doesn’t let up; he doesn’t think he can. Your tone crashes into one that’s softer, more airy, begging for more. For less. Jing Yuan can’t entirely tell. He isn’t sure he cares, truthfully. All he knows is that your thighs tighten around his head with each suck and slurp.

The sound of it is heavenly.

Your thighs press around his face. Flush to his cheeks are the scent glands in the apex of your inner thighs. Not everyone has them, as they’re something of a recessive trait among all secondary genders. The scent that comes off them is your own, however muskier and deeper. It sticks to the inside of his nose and pours down his throat like a nectar. You mewl when he breaks away to lap at one, coaxing out more of the scent. He gluts himself on it.

He needs, he needs, he needs.

“Jing Yuan,” you pant above him, propping yourself up with one arm while the other blindly reaches among his nest. “Do you need it? Knot?”

He— 

(He needs to be filled. He isn’t picky if that feeling is quenched with his cunt, ass, throat, or nose. The scent of you is almost enough, even if he clenches down on nothing and feels hollow in his belly. The sensations are so dull with you nearby. He feels heat incensed, but in a way that craves closeness with you and not the manic pursuit of a knot.)

It’s refreshing. Jing Yuan regrets not propositioning you for this treatment sooner.

“Are you offering?” Jing Yuan purrs. He places his thumbs over the scent glands of your inner thighs and presses down on the swell of them, just under your skin.

Your back bends off the bed and you throw your hand over your mouth. Teary eyes meet him and you nod. From the folds of the nest, you pull forth a knotting toy with a shaking grip. 

It’s beautiful for a toy. It’s a model that Jing Yuan had seen in a few high-end adverts on the few social medias he moonlighted on. It’s a flesh-like plastic cock, with an inflatable knot at the base. A little, wired remote drags along the blankets of his nest as you hold the phallus out to him. The plastic of the toy is a light gold, cut with veins of blue. It looks otherworldly and unreal. Jing Yuan has never cared for much realism with his toys, though this one is human enough. 

He makes a mental note to get Qingzu a bouquet for purchasing it for him on such short notice. 

The head of it feels cool against his cunt. It’s a welcome sensation as it feels like his body is burning up from the insight. He lays over you, wrestling you a bit to be flat below him, with his thighs caging yours. He growls when you try to grab the toy from his hands to assist.

It makes you pause.

Your soft palms cup his cheeks, “Do you not want me to help?”

“The angle—” The angle won’t be right, Jing Yuan wants to say. His words feel lost in his throat as he slowly begins to push inside himself. He gasps and tries to duck into your neck, to like and suck at the gland there and feast on your scent.

“I can try—?”

“ No.” 

Jing Yuan wants you just like this. In his nest, smelling like him and arousal and safety. The toy that’s sliding into his cunt is mostly irrelevant, as is the twitch of his cock as he slowly and methodically fucks the toy into himself. Little by little, he bullies it into his underused hole. The stretch is— is not bad. It would be far more uncomfortable if he weren’t in heat and pouring slick. 

You ask more quietly, just as he bottoms out. You still haven’t let go of his face. “Are you sure?” 

He is, but he can’t find the words to say so. Instead, he nods and tucks himself closer to you. You pet down the back of his neck and push on his scent glands. They ache with his heat. The pressure and direct contact makes him grunt as he adjusts to the toy in his cunt.

You hush him and nuzzle in his cheeks, “You’re doing so well. So good, Jing Yuan.”

He keens and pulls back the toy cock, only to shove it back into himself a moment later. Praise from you is a drug. He’s sure. You’re unbearably earnest and sweet and you are too kind to him. You whisper more of them into his ear as he fucks himself, deep and slow. He feels the sentiment of your words more than he hears it. Deeply affectionate and caring. If he were more lucid, he would be disarmed by you, speechless even. Perhaps he is already speechless, but he blames that on the heat haze and how the head of the toy is pressing deliciously into his sweet spot.

He narrows his focus on the spot and fucks him on the toy in earnest.

Jing Yuan will have an arm ache after this. Many aches, actually. It will be worth it. It is easiest to bear with you underneath him, tilting your hips up to grind against his dripping cock. It’s not the friction his body craves, but it’s welcome. It sends sparks down his spine and he whines into your neck. 

You nip at his neck, high on the side of it, and Jing Yuan lets loose a cracking moan. It’s almost embarrassingly loud. Were Jing Yuan able to feel shame in that moment, he’d be red-faced.

Instead, he tips his head to the side, allows you room to mouth and suck marks as you desire. You catch on quickly, and hum, licking broad stripes and soaking him in your scent. Your marks. It surrounds him.

He fucks himself on the toy faster.

(It’s nothing like the heats he had while he was mated with Yingxing and Dan Feng. Not at all. They were shorter, back then. Perhaps it was his youth or the relentless pace and haze Yingxing kept that burned Jing Yuan out faster. Or, maybe it was that Dan Feng always made sure he was wrung out, despite not craving him in the same way Yingxing had. It was carnal then. It still is now, but it does not feel as manic. You are gentle without qualifiers, sweet without expectation, and happy to let him rut into you and back onto the toy as much as he pleases. Your kisses are bruising, but not bloody like Dan Feng’s. There’s a different pace, a different scent, and a different intent.)

Jing Yuan once enjoyed the desperation that Yingxing put into everything he did (including him). He had fallen in love with Dan Feng for his poetics and distanced care. You have neither of these. It is unfair, ultimately, for Jing Yuan to draw comparison. 

Perhaps, he’ll feel guilty over it later. For now, his arm gives out and he falls into your chest with a keen. His back arches, hips raised, and the new angle is so, so good. You run your hands through his hair, and move your thigh, just right, so he can grind on it to his heart’s content.

He’s close; he can feel it in his belly.

What sends him over the edge is the feel of your lips against his hairline, the way your lips have curled into a soft, easy smile as you kiss him there. You stroke down his back, like how a good lover would.

You are a good lover. 

He shudders as orgasm grips him. The sound that rips from his throat is shattering, as overwhelming as the heat that boils over in his guts. And you are such a good lover, that the little remote must have already been in your hand, as in the moment he comes, the knotted base of the toy begins to swell. Jing Yuan can’t— can’t chase his orgasm. He can feel his eyes growing wet while his body feels out of his control (he hates that, he really does). You, however, are a good lover and reach and stretch, matching his angle with the toy and fuck him through it yourself. The knot catches once inside him, then a second time, and with the third, it locks him and the toy together.

And with what can only be called a sob, Jing Yuan fully collapses on top of you.

He can’t keep himself upright, he realizes. His thighs tremble terribly, and his arms are the same. His eyes are filled with tears he didn’t expect and doesn’t know what to do with. It feels vulnerable. Too vulnerable, in a way that Jing Yuan has avoided for centuries now. 

Before the feeling can consume him, you’re coaxing him onto his side and wrapping yourself around him. A sheet gets pulled atop the both of you and you’re nosing into him wherever you can.

“It’s okay,” You tell him. “You’re okay, I promise.”

A muffled sound that comes from your throat, followed by the low roll of a purr. 

Oh. 

All for him?

He shoves himself closer, skin to skin in all the spots he can reach. His tongue laves at your scent glands as his cunt flutters around the toy. He claws at your back before locking his arms around your waist. 

You’re purring for him.

He can help but do the same, even chirping without meaning to as he nips at your jaw. Jing Yuan trails his lips to your cheek, then the corner of your mouth. You curl and laugh at his touch, and Jing Yuan steals the lovely sounds from you with a kiss. It’s something deep and consuming, and Jing Yuan needs more of the taste of you. You squirm into it, gasping and opening your mouth for him to explore as he needs. Your openness continues to undo him. 

It’s all the reassurance he needs. Any poisonous feelings fall away, and Jing Yuan, for the first time in far too long, finds himself content and knotted. 

...

Jing Yuan has never had a heat quite like this one.

It is certainly more mild, and certainly a bit shorter than what he was expecting. The worst of it lasts five days, followed by three days that he can’t quite call post-heat. Though the desire in him is less feverish, he still craves your presence so much it hurts, and the idea of you being out of his nests sends him into a toothy panic those days. The ‘no teeth’ rule is modified to allow some biting, as long as it doesn’t involve any scent glands.

(However, Jing Yuan still would not mind putting a claiming bite on you. He makes a note to bring this up when he’s feeling some clarity of mind and can... attempt to court you properly.)

The most intense days of his heat are spent with a knotting toy in his cunt, rutting against your soft thighs, or with your hands wrapped around his cock. He eats you out whenever he can muster up the energy to shimmy between your legs and luxuriate there. Any down time is spent dozing in the warm sun rays that his bedroom is perfectly placed to receive. 

The latter days of his heat, Jing Yuan is more lucid. 

It’s in those days he truly enjoys his heat. Though the burn of arousal still lays within him, it is easily tempered with your presence in his nest and your many shared bite marks. Your time awake is spent lazily kissing, speaking in low voices, and sharing laughter and cups of cool water, one after the other. 

Jing Yuan, partially, did not think he would ever get to experience this type of connection again. with you or any other partner. The intimacy of the act is so deeply vulnerable, and after the spiritual loss of both Yingxing and Dan Feng, he never endeavored, or wanted to endeavor to, open himself up in that way again.

He, perhaps, convinced himself he did not need to.

(Nevermind the many nights, both heat-addled and otherwise, Jing Yuan spent craving nesting companions. Nevermind how many nights Jing Yuan lay alone, accepting his losses and mourning mates he’d never hold again. Jing Yuan could never choose to be selfish.)

It helped when Yanqing was little. He was just a small pup with golden eyes like Jing Yuan’s and a fiery spirit, even when he was so small. Jing Yuan had never considered himself maternal, however having a pup to take care of brought out latent instincts he’d spent the better part of his life pretending didn’t exist. As Yanqing aged, however, he was less receptive to such affections and connections. After presenting (far too young, poor thing, traumatized body), Yanqing wouldn’t share a nest with Jing Yuan unless he fell ill. Even then, Jing Yuan would have to coax him into it.

It quenched something in him. It allowed Jing Yuan to let himself care in the direct way he craved. With his position as General, how often does get to show care with his hands, and not with his words or stratagems? Not with sacrifice or poetry, but with his body and scent. 

Jing Yuan realizes now that there truly have been so many urges and behaviors Jing Yuan simply did not indulge.

And as his heat breaks, Jing Yuan thinks he’d like to start indulging them more.

...

On the last day of his heat, you stir around nightfall. You are exhausted, Jing Yuan knows this. Though his heat has provided him with a surprising amount of stamina, you are in standard condition, and looked wrung out halfway through day two of his heat. Jing Yuan’s grateful you’re as fond of midday naps as he is. 

You are cradled against his chest, your cheek pillows on his breast. He’d thrown a robe on while washing up, and hadn’t elected to remove it. The silky texture of it feels lovely against his flushed, sensitive skin. You seem to enjoy it too as you grip at the fabric of it in your sleep, nuzzling into his chest.

Your brow scrunches and a little sound pops from your throat as you try to burrow closer. It’s a hopelessly sweet gesture, desperate and honest. Jing Yuan can’t help but chuckle and smooth a hand over your mussed-up hair.

When your eyes crack open, your voice is raw, “‘S morning?”

“No, nighttime.” Jing Yuan nods to the darkened window.

You raise yourself up just enough to look, hum, and then fall back on top of him, “Feels like it should be morning.”

“We haven’t been keeping a very consistent sleeping schedule,” Jing Yuan rarely does, but he imagines that you and your position with the Sky Faring Commission have quite a regular routine. “You can keep resting.”

“I don’t wanna’,” Though, you shove your nuzzle into his chest, smearing him with your scent. “I wanna stay up and talk to you.”

“Me?” Jing Yuan smiles, smitten. He pinches your cheek. “About anything in particular?”

“... Not yet.” Your eyes slip closed. “Maybe later. I want to say things to you, but I feel... mushy. Inside my head.”

“Pheromone drunk?”

“‘Something like that,” Your words slur. “Not that I’m complaining. You smell so good, Jing Yuan.”

When you say his name, he shudders. The hand that’s been playing with your hand slips to your nape and squeezes. You keen at the contact and tangle your legs with his. It’s an impossible amount of closeness you are seeking, but Jing Yuan must attempt to give it to you. It’s abashed and honest, and in the stillness of night, how can he not indulge?

“Do I?”

“ Mhm.”

“Like what?” 

You’re falling asleep, clearly. You’re struggling to keep your eyes open even as you inhale deeply. Your lips part and you take his scent into your mouth. 

“Earth after rain,” You hum. “Sunbeam and linen. Warm milk.”

He squeezes you.

(A long time ago, Yingxing had complained about his scent. ‘Complained’. His face had been flushed crimson, telling him how distracting his sweet, rich scent had been. Dan Feng thought it was the funniest thing, considering Yingxing so clearly enjoyed Jing Yuan’s scent, as did he. They’d described it similarly— “petrichor” Dan Feng had told Jing Yuan while sweeping his mane back from his neck— “the smell of sunshine” Yingxing had told Jing Yuan after berating him.)

“How complementary.” Jing Yuan purrs and pulls you closer by the waist. Your face is smushed against his chest, but you don’t complain. You keep your lips parted to enjoy his scent. “And you like it?”

“So much,” You assure him, droopy-eyed. 

So good for him, so so good.

Jing Yuan presses the tip of his finger to your lips, a bit chapped from the dehydration and exertion. You chirp with it, a bit more awake.

He hushes you, and pushes his finger further into his mouth, “Sleep now, dear. You need to rest.”

“‘So do ya’,” You try to say, though it comes out garbled as Jing Yuan lays his finger on the flat of your tongue. Your eyes widen and go a bit crossed to look at his wrist, then up to his eyes. 

Jing Yuan isn’t entirely sure what compels him, but something does. Gently, he leans down and presses his lips to your forehead. He idles there, and pets down your side.

“I’ll sleep soon, I’m sure you know.” Jing Yuan says softly. “Will you indulge me?”

(He asks to be selfish.)

Without hesitating, you nod.

(And you let him.)

Jing Yuan doesn’t explain himself. He doesn’t need to. Maybe it’s the specific sweetness his scent must take on, or the night air in contrast to the warmth and comfort of his nest, but you understand what he wants and give it to him without so much as a word.

Your lips open a little wider and Jing Yuan slips another finger inside. You stroke your tongue on his fingers as you close your mouth, eyes going dazed and heavy-lidded. You take a deep breath, inhaling his scent into the deepest parts of your lungs. You suck on his fingers gently. 

Jing Yuan watches with still, even breaths.

Later, he will analyze why this scratches so many itches in his brain. Why his post-heat mind feels more calm and sated than he thought possible. Why he wants more of this, always, even if he doesn’t have a name for it yet.

For now, he is so, so content to have you this way. You are lulled back to sleep so easily, sucking on his fingers with your cheek still smushed against his breast. Even as you sleep, Jing Yuan doesn’t remove his fingers. He explores the inside of your mouth with gentle, easy pressure, so as to not wake you. It’s exploratory, more than anything. 

He plays with you in such a way until he’s too drowsy to continue. Satisfied and warm, he drags you under the covers and holds you close, scenting you one last time before letting himself fall into a contented, new kind of sleep.

...

You depart suddenly, while Jing Yuan is in the kitchen deftly chopping fruits and assembling little parfaits. 

You had been in his bathroom, freshening up with whatever products you’d like from his stash. Jing Yuan had left you your own robe for when you exited, quietly beaming that he’d have yet another article with your scent on it.

However, when you do leave the bathroom, you are fully dressed in the day clothes you arrived in a week ago. You stand at the doorway of his kitchen, pausing, wide-eyed.

“I n-need to go,” Your voice wavers, like you’re going to be ill.

Something squeezes in between Jing Yuan’s ribs. There are thin, transparent patches on your neck on either side. Scent blockers. Your eyes look watery. Jing Yuan immediately sets down the knife he had been working with.

“Is everything alright?” asks Jing Yuan. He knows something is wrong, even if he can’t smell you, you’re clearly distressed and disheveled.

“It’s— it’s nothing. It’ll be okay.” You tell him. Your voice trembles and you shake your head. 

“Are you sure? I can help.”

“It’s— it’s really nothing. I need to leave. I-I’m really sorry.”

You look from him to the foyer that leads to his front door and back again. There’s a desperate look in your eye that Jing Yuan has never seen with such an intensity before. It makes his heart ache and his hands feel clammy. He sighs.

(And a quiet, ever-present voice in his mind says, “they all leave, eventually.”)

“Alright.” Jing Yuan gives you a smile, the best he can muster. He knows it must be sadder than intended, as your expression falls and you look like you’ve been punched. 

“I’m so s-sorry.”

“It’s alright,” It isn’t. Not fully. “Handle whatever it is that you must. I’m only a call away. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to contact me.”

“Okay.” You take a shaking breath and shudder out the exhale. You’re trying not to cry and it takes everything in Jing Yuan’s being not to rush to you and attempt to mend whatever is causing you distress but—

(He can’t. He can’t do that. You have asked him to leave you be and Jing Yuan has spent his entire life honing his ability not to chase, even when he so, so badly wishes to.)

You give him one final, fleeting look, “Thank you. I— I’ll see you at our next lunch, okay? I’m sorry.”

It looks like there’s more you want to say, but you’re already out the door before you can. Jing Yuan hears it open and shut with a soft thud that vibrates throughout his home. It leaves Jing Yuan standing alone in his kitchen, frozen, while the robe he wears slips down his shoulders. He bears your marks, and reeks of your scent. His nest grows colder each minute. And though his heat has ended, the yearning for you has not.

If anything, the feeling is far stronger than it was before.

He latches onto the fact you will have your lunches. That— he will find some clarity then. That he can inspect you for damage during the next sunshine-filled meal you share, and prod to see if the last week and half did not carry the same type of... meaning for you, as it did Jing Yuan. He will need to make sure you’re well. He’ll fret until then, he knows this.

(A more dormant, possessive part of him wishes he snatched you back from his foyer and threw you back into his nest. If something was wrong, he could. If something needed fixing, he could help. If it were anything official for your work, Jing Yuan would pull any and all strings to get you out of the obligation. If you were hurt, Jing Yuan would do anything to see you better.)

Instead, Jing Yuan idles in his kitchen, feeling struck and helpless. Something in him aches, deep and low, and Jing Yuan lays a hand over his chest and squeezes it into a fist. He had thought he had become used to this type of loneliness, but it aches all the same.

[neetily]

Oh... To be a simple little puppy!girl... Forced into entering a relationship with your big scary new wolf!boyfriend...

— ✧ warnings: hybrids, noncon/dubcon, forced relationship, manipulation, naïve reader, name calling, dacryphilia, size difference, kidnapping, knot mention, pregnancy mention, marking, tummy bulge — ✧ word count: 2,282

— ✧ A/N: Just a quick little drabble, a small little scenario. Just to get things started on my blog! If you read, thank you very much. I hope you enjoy!

In a dog-eat-dog world, sometimes quite literally, it's no surprise that a lonely little pup like you found yourself in some hot water every now and then. Oh, but it's not your fault, sweet girl! You're just a silly little pup, aren't you? So soft and sweet, a shy little thing with your floppy puppy ears down to match your low hanging head— despite your attempts to avoid confrontation, it's only natural that trouble always finds you somehow, some way. You're just too tempting to the jaws of those bigger, stronger, and far more superior to you, always. It's only natural for you to submit to the likes that stalk the streets, the very same way that it's in your very bones to shake and quiver and to let out those meek little puppy whines for help when you find yourself cornered. So cute, aren't you?

He's always adored scared little puppies like you. You're always the easiest to obtain.

Chasing off those who had found you all alone was easy enough. Buncha dogs, mere mutts to his more imposing wolfish appearance. Not that he's much better than them deep down, really. He's just scarier, though his intentions remain the same, that's all. Mighty maw snarling insults and barking orders at those who dare threaten you, pearly white fangs already coated in shiny saliva at the mere thought of whisking you away all for himself instead. No, it wasn't a bother to scare off the admittedly much larger than you dogs from the dark, damp alleyway, ears pointed and hackles raised to play the role of protector for a moment. Much like how it wasn't any issue to coax your tucked tail shivering body into his big open palms, in spite of the way his long tail swished behind him with insidious interest.

Little pups like you never understand the kinds of situations you somehow always find yourselves in until it's too late, and it's not his fault that you can't see through his faux concern. You should know better than now, silly girl! You can't blame him for smirking when you fall for his false platitudes, or mumbled niceties so easily. God, he'd say literally anything you wanted if it meant you'd get all cozy in his car without complaint anyway ; but it's nice when all it takes is the promise of taking you home. A nice, easy, fuck.

Dummy. Stupid little mutt, you deserve a fucking wake up call for your bad behaviour, he thinks.

You're lucky you're so cute, chained up next to him the moment he brought you home (see, he didn't really lie, did he?) like that. The sleek black collar adorning your neck only makes you look even prettier with the way the leather shines from under you, reflecting against your tear stained cheeks so sweetly for him, he almost thinks it's on purpose. As if your body itself is pandering to his weak spots, begging for his attention as he keeps you held in captivity.

Really, he hadn't meant to keep you for so long. A night or two at most, enough to have his fun with you before sending you back out to fend yourself against the plentiful other wolves who'd enjoy feasting on you, sinking their big fangs into your soft body, marking you all up.

But there's just something about you that begs him to reconsider. You're so small compared to him, allowing him to easily lift and bend and mishandle you however he sees fit— small for even puppy standards, there's no way you could ever fend for yourself, and he finds himself wanting to protect that part of you. Those big adoring puppy eyes you flutter up at him when he tugs on your collar between his meaty thighs. The way your tiny little ears twitch and perk up upon the guttural growls your kitten licks coax out of him. That pretty tail of yours, giving your enjoyment away with fast flicks and quick wags in spite of the water that wells at your lash line.

And of course, the way you babble and hiccup with big fat teardrops rolling down your cheeks every time he manages to fuck half his cock into your squishy little puppy pussy— training, he'd growled down at you the first couple of times. But his patience wears thin; wolves aren't known for their proficiency in waiting, are they?

"C'mon, mutt—" He tries to encourage you, fangs flashing in delight as the way your cunt at least tries to adhere to his hoarse command, tone reprimanding in spite of the fact that he's at least in part trying to motivate you. It's simply in his nature to dominate you, he reasons with himself. And the way your body responds with shivers and squeaks upon every harsh hump of his cock deeper into your too tight little cunt only tells him that you want to give in to him too, even if it's difficult to fit every pulsing inch of his cock inside of your tiny little hole. It's just too easy to pin you down under him, face down, ass cradled by his slamming hips as he attempts to bury himself to the hilt prematurely. So easy to completely encase your tiny little puppy body under his far bigger wolf presence that he'd be a fool not to give your body what it's asking for, leaning down over you so that his front is pressed snug to your back and he can huff growls down your heated ears; you could never even hope to escape his full body weight, little dog. "M'not askin', know y'can do it, pup." He reminds you, pressing his sharp canines against your neck, letting your collar dig harshly against your skin— a reminder, that no matter how much you protest, he's only giving your body what she wants, baby.

And he's no fool. He knows how much you struggle to take him, and he knows how much you likely dislike how rough he is with you. Tugging and pulling and ruining you every chance he gets, simply because he's bigger than you, and what is a mere pup to a wolf? He bets you can't fucking stand the way he treats you like some scrap of meat, especially considering that he's kept you cooped up all alone in his room to play with until he grows bored. But he isn't. Not yet. Mounting you from behind like the dog he is, panting and slobbering all over your neck in between greedy gulps of your sickly sweet scent. So fucking good, smell so good it's unfair, a needy whine crawling up his throat for him to bite back with a bark instead. The way you struggle to even sob from under him only makes his cock harder, unfortunately.

And he can fuckin' smell how much that puppy pussy wants his knot too, forcing his throbbing cock against your gushing insides like his life depended on impregnating you, splitting you in two regardless of your docile wails as he makes his cock fit into your too tight little cunt. Trembling at the way your cunt squirms around his intrusion, breath caught in his throat from just how fucking perfect you feel, all nice and tight and wet. For him, right?

Oh, he knows why you were cornered in that alleyway now. Even he can't resist the allure of your pitifully sobbed whines for more, or for the tight suck of your insides, slick gushing out of your overstuffed cunt with every greedy hump forward he makes. Forcing his wolven claim upon you, marking up your insides with his fucking stink so that everyone knows who you now belong to. There's nothing you can do to avoid the bite of his sharp nails as they dig into your soft skin either, marking up every inch of you that he can reach in some sort of primal ritual of mine. Mine, mine, mine, so that no one else even thinks about cornering you again, because from now on, with the pop of his cock fully sheathed inside of your tight hole, you're his property. A snivelling, sobbing, sloppy little mess of some property, but his nonetheless.

How could he ever imagine letting go of you when you feel so perfect anyway? No, the chance encounter he had with you one night is all it took for him to find the perfect pretty mate. mounting your ass like he's never done before with any of the other cheap fucks he's experienced, forcing you to take his fat cock deeper with every thrust forward, almost folding you in half from the sheer weight behind his fucks to turn you into something that resembles more of a squeaky toy than his newfound beloved mate.

But you're so perfect for him. Simply taking his assault because there's nothing you can truly do about it. Because your body begs for more. Fucking himself silly in your perfect angel cunt, fucking you stupid if the way you choke on your words every time his tip kisses against your cervix is anything to go by, the slick sound of wet skin on skin slapping together as his heavy balls knock against you clit ringing in his perked up ears, moans snarled down at you like some sort of scolding. How dare you feel so good, fucking mutt. Y'should be thankful that it was me that found you and some some other sort of sick fuck.

Don't worry, he understands the irony behind his thoughts.

But the way you keen for more, back arched so prettily for his eyes to feast on, fucking you with his stare as well as his cock, rendering your cunt a squelchy concoction of the copious amounts of precum his cock leaks out for you, spit drooling down from his open and puffing maw to help aid the smooth glide in and out, and your creamy cunt slick; looks so good when forming a ring around the base of his cock, wolf tail twitching behind him in preparation for what comes next.

There's really only one way to properly claim you, he muses to himself. His humping is relentless, stroking himself off in your warm pretty pussy, a consistent stream of curses escaping his dry throat as he gets closer to that edge.

Sound so pretty when you cry for him too, "S'it too much?" He mocks you, "Aw, poor mutt..." He'd rumble laughter down at you, chest tight with affection when you do your best to take him anyway— whether it's forced or not. Faux sweet tone matching his brutal thrusts perfectly, ridiculing you for the way you cry out for him because it's easier than admitting to just how much your tears turn him on. How even just the thought of making you cry on his fat cock is enough to get him rock hard, never mind to fuck the tears out of you with unfair fucks right this moment. Besides, this is what you fucking owe him. He deserves some form of reward for saving you from those big scary dogs, right? Keeping you completely encased in his large stature, shielding you from view of all else in the room— "Mine," He huffs against your neck, letting his tongue loll out to coat you in his sticky saliva, just like how your cunt juices coat his thighs all tacky with slick. "My mate, fuckin' all mine from now on, yeah?"

He won't take no for an answer. Not when you feel so good, pretty puppy pussy squeezing around his fat wolf cock so well, the addition of his thumb slipping carefully between your folds to rub harshly at your clit to have you creaming his cock is enough of a persuasion to have him follow through with his rabid claims of ownership. Yeah, that's it, he can't let you leave now. The feeling of your cunt insides squishing and sucking and truly suffocating his fat cock is enough to convince him otherwise, fully giving in to his more primal instincts with fast vicious fucks to knock the wind out of you as you cum around his length. As if trying to prove his usefulness to you, to prove himself as a worthy mate, capable of fucking you so good and thoroughly that you've got no choice but to melt under him. Fucking you full to the point of tummy bulging, his hand under you stroking himself off as much as he twitching against your insides with insidious promise, and then he's spilling inside. Keeping you locked on his knot so that you can't go wandering off, even if you claw for escape. Pumping you so full of his thick cum that some of it spills out around him from his repeated miniscule thrusts. Jus' wants to make sure your puppy womb takes to it, rubbing his cum coated tip along your cervix in an attempt to knock you up, to breed his newfound mate on the first fuck.

Poor thing, he can feel how hard your hole squeezes around his fat knot, milking him for all he's worth, pretty little mewls hitting his perked up ears to share your sheer delight. "That's it—" He coos down at you, huffing and puffing for air after exerting so much energy, in spite of the way his cock still yet throbs for you. "Jus' sit tight for a minute, pup. Promise t'make y'feel all better soon."

And for once, he means it. The once play pup now turned mate, it's his duty to see to you from now on.

Only after he's done filling you up, though.

[kenslilove]

᯽៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ Who’s Little Sister?! Pt.2

preview: You called him your boyfriend? Why would you do that? Draken isn't sure he's cut out to be the boyfriend to Takemichi's precious little sister...

ft. Ken "Draken" Ryuuguji x fem!reader

wc. 9kish... help 🫠🤪😰😵‍💫🥴🤡

W. NFSW 18+ MINORS DNI, age gap (Draken is in his late 20’s and owns the bike shop, reader is in their early 20’s in university), fem reader (takemichi’s little sister), crybaby/bimbo reader, angsty in the middle, Draken is very insecure of his ability to be in a relationship, slight exhibitionism (Draken fucks you while on call), multiple cream pies, messy make-outs, oral (m!receiving), mating press, squirting, lots of praise, aftercare, lots of pet names, it gets soft and passionate at the end 🥹🥹

an. The long-awaited part 2 of “Who’s Little Sister.” I put my heart, soul, and pussy into this piece. I think it's my favourite thing I've ever written in all honesty, it very much encapsulates how I think Draken’s and I’s relationship would start. God, I love him so much. It’s also the first time I've written anything remotely angsty though, and I can’t tell if it's lame or not LMFAO. Please, let me know what you think. I'm so very happy to be reposting this piece on this blog to share with yall, it’s literally so important to me <33 and I’m so so happy this is the fic that is bringing back my writing spark! Part 3 will hopefully be even better than this 🙏🏼🤭 Constructive feedback, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. 

extra note: Listen to “Nothings gonna hurt you baby.” By Cigarettes After Sex during the last scene. It’s Kenny’s and I’s selfship song and help inspired me for the ending <33

tagging: @enchantedforest-network @eveningatthemoviesnetwork and @shoyosdoll bc you've been such a supporter of this fic hehe <33 i hope you love part 2 as much as part 1 <33

“Draken-Kun, are you coming tonight?” 

There was silence on Draken’s end of the phone as all the other males on-call waited for a response. Mikey was the first one to say something back, annoyance clear in his tone as he spoke directly into the receiver, making his voice sound much louder than necessary. 

“Oi, Ken-Chin, get off the phone if you’re just gonna ignore us.” 

“Sorry–” Draken finally responded, his voice seeming just a bit more… strained than usual. Not enough for the boys to notice until he grunted softly, what seemed to be creaking or something muffled in the background of his audio call. 

“You good, dude?” Mitsuya piped up, his own voice a little muffled due to a sewing needle between his lips but nothing like Draken’s. 

“Oh yea, fuckin peachy–” Draken breathed in response, his huff coming out as a soft laugh when a bit of sweat started to roll down his temple. 

If he was being honest, he wasn’t really paying attention to the call, how could he, when you, Takemichi’s precious little sister was underneath him, sprawled out and trembled as his cock drilled into you at a steady pace. You were biting down on your bottom lip so hard, Draken swore that blood would free itself soon from the delicate flesh, your eyes screwed shut as your pretty chest bounced with each thrust of his hips. You were trying so hard for him to be quiet, just like he instructed as soon as he picked up the phone. The attempt was adorable, considering how vocal you usually were for him. 

But Draken was twisted, he knew that deep down, so he just couldn’t help himself when he angled his hips just right so his cock head would jab right into that gummy sweet spot within your walls. You yelped, pleasure shooting up your spine, only for the sound to be cut off by the smack of Draken’s free palm clamping over your mouth. 

“Who has a girl over~?” Baji piped up, suddenly very much interested in the conversation. Draken laughed shallowly into his receiver, his hand tightening up along your jaw as he continued to ram into the spot that made you see stars. You couldn’t even control your babbles when he did this, an endless stream of whimpers and sobs being muffled into his palm as you held onto his wrist for dear life. 

“Gotta go, Text me what time I needa be there–” Draken didn’t wait for a response from his friends. Instead, he hung up quickly, abandoning the device somewhere on the bed. When he released the hold on your mouth you whined at him, the tears finally spilling from your eyes. 

“K-Kenny, Kenny please– Please–!” 

“So fuckin loud pretty, all the damn time,” Draken says it with a grin, easily manhandling your thighs over his shoulders so he can fuck into you deeper. He presses a kiss to your ankle, right beside the anklet he bought you as your pussy flutters so desperately around his cock. 

“O-Oh! Please, Ken–!”

“Please what?” Draken grunts, his hips slapping up against yours ruthlessly now as his release comes dangerously close. He knew you weren’t far behind. Had learned your signs very early on. Your toes would curl, your eyes would get foggy, chest stuttering. Your pussy would milk him so tight and leave rings of arousal on his cock. 

And he loved every second of it. 

“Wanna cum, needa cum again–!” you pleaded with him, nails digging into the muscles of his flexing biceps. He nodded in agreement, his own voice becoming hoarse due to the sheer squeeze of your pussy. Although his pace started to get sloppy he still fucked into you, one hand slithering between your sweaty bodies in order to massage ruthlessly at your clit. 

“Go on then, cum, make a fuckin mess f’me gorgeous.” He breathes, licking his lips when you throw your head back with a cry. The mess you make on his cock is breathtaking, arousal squirting from your used hole and dousing his hand, wrist and abs. He swears under his breath at the borderline painful grip your pussy has on his cock when you finish, one final thrust allowing him to spill ropes of cum right up against your cervix. 

Draken’s trembling when he falls onto his elbows over you, his breath coming out a bit shaky as his cock still twitches within your walls in the aftermath of both of your highs. He starts pressing wet, opened-mouthed kisses along your neck and face to help you come too, a soft chuckle leaving his lips when you whine softly. 

“You okay baby?” His voice is a whisper, and as the energy slowly comes back to you he smooths his palm over your cheek, thumb swiping under your eye to pick up leftover tears. You nod, one of your trembly hands lazily dragging through his black locks of hair. “Mhm, m’good, Kenny. Help me sit up?” He does, one big palm on the back of your neck to help you to sit up against the headboard. 

He presses a smooch to your lips before easing himself out of you, both of you wincing softly from the loss of contact. It’s only when he pulls out completely and his softening cock falls against his thigh that he realises just how big of a mess the two of you made of yourself and the sheets. It makes him swell with pride, a grin slowly curling on his lips. 

You’ve come a long way, from the sweet girl who was just learning to cream on his cock to the messes you’ve made on his bed on the daily. 

“M’gunna get a cloth.” He says, handing you a glass of water and your phone as soon as he stands to keep you occupied. His muscles are still a bit tingly as he stands, arms stretching up and above his head as he heads towards the bathroom. 

“Nice butt!” You call out, making him snort softly as he stands before the bathroom mirror. He can’t help but admire the marks you’ve littered across his neck and chest, the cute little bruises reminding him of the shape of your puckered lips. He then examines the nail marks you’ve left along his forearms and shoulders, some of the red pathways breaking in the middle to show little droplets of blood. Lastly, he sighs dreamily at the sheen of your arousal that coats his pelvis, a ring of white still layered at his base. 

Man knew he was in heaven. 

When he came back to the bedroom after tidying himself a bit, as well as with a cloth in hand you were on the phone with someone, giggling into the receiver and looking up at Draken with a playful glint in your eye. 

“I’ll actually meet with you later, m’with my boyfriend right now~” Despite the way your giggling increased and you squealed to your friend about how you’ve mentioned him before with such excitement, Draken was anything but that. 

His chest tightened up, crease forming between his brow. Boyfriend? When did that become his title? 

“Kennnnnny~” You snapped him out of his thoughts, though his brows stayed furrowed. “Hurry! The mess is only getting bigger over here.”

One hand was planted on the mattress as he gently wiped the dampened towel over your pussy and thighs, your hand coming to cover his, making him pause in your tracks. “Shouldn’t scowl so much, handsome.” You murmur it gently, thumb gently smoothing between his brows in an attempt to fix the crinkles there. “You’ll get wrinkles~”

“You called me your boyfriend–” His voice was blunt, which took you by slight surprise. A little pout formed on your swollen lower lip as you subconsciously squeezed at his wrist. 

“Well, yea–”

“We haven’t talked about that.” He was still being blunt as ever, so much so it almost startled you, made you feel much smaller under him as he sat up on his hunched, throwing the soiled cloth into the laundry bin. 

“I-I know…” You simply muttered, chest started to feel tight as you watched just how serious his face had become. He was tugging his strands of black hair into a low bun when you sat up a bit more, fingers gently brushing over his chest. “But I just thought, thought that we were together…”

And it wasn’t wrong for you to think that way. Ever since that first night at Draken’s apartment the two of you had been secretly hanging out. You went out to restaurants, and the local arcade took his bike to the mountainside and watched the sunset. The two of you had bought little things for one another, like the gold anklet that sat pretty on your ankle and the hello kitty keychain that was currently attached to his bike keys. You even made sure to turn off your location so Takemichi couldn’t see just how often you were having sleepovers at Draken’s place. 

You two did the things that couples did together. You two did the things that you saw Takemichi and Hina do on the regular. Dare you even say, you did things with Draken that he and Emma used to do–

Plus, he was fucking you every chance he got. 

“Well, maybe you shoulda thought about talkin to me about it first before you go squealing that I’m your boyfriend.” His tone was harsher than he wanted it to be, a tone he usually used with his friends but never really with you. It had you suck in a soft breath, suddenly feeling very exposed curled up in nothing but his bedsheets. 

“You don’t have to be so mean–” 

“M’not being mean, I’m being realistic. It ain’t cute to just assume I’m your boyfriend when we haven’t talked about anything official.” He was off the bed now, tugging up his boxers. When you didn’t respond he sighed. “We hang out and fuck around, why do we need to be more than–” 

When he turned around again to look you in the eye his own voice caught in his throat. Your eyes had gotten wide, a glossy layer of tears hiding the usual beautiful shine your gaze held. Your lower lip was trembling softly, fingers clutching onto the covers so tightly he noticed how your knuckles turned white. 

“Hey–” 

“M’gunna go.” You interrupted, the crack in your tone only making his heart plummet harder in his chest. As you got to your feet, his blanket securely wrapped around you he grabbed both your shoulders. 

“Hey, don’t be like that (Y/N), you don’t even have a ride–” 

“Gunna call Michi.” You slipped out of his grasp by tucking yourself out from under his hands, bending to grab at your clothes scattered across the ground. 

“Like hell you are. We’re not telling him about us, remember what happened last time?” Draken could still hear the boy's ruthless comments after that first night, the crack of Baji’s fist against his jaw– 

“Don’t care, wanna go home.” Your muttering had gotten softer, ready to slip into the bathroom and shut the door right in his face. 

“Would you stop being such a brat?” Draken grabbed at your arm this time, tugging it back towards him. He himself hadn’t expected it to be so forceful, the little squeak you released and the falling of tears instantly making him let go of you. You both stared at each other a little shocked, Draken’s breath froze in his throat and his fingertips went a bit cold as you looked at him. 

Teary-eyed, shrunken in. Scared. Were you scared of him? 

Without a word, you finally went into the bathroom, and it was only then that Draken let out his frustrated breath, cheeks feeling hot as he clenched his fists up at his sides. Fuck, what the fuck was happening right now. He hated this nonsense, hated just how frustrated he felt, hated that look on your face, hated that he couldn’t even really understand what emotions were running through his head. 

Why was he mad anyway? Why was any of this really a big deal? 

He used his own phone to call you a cab, knowing you wouldn’t actually call Takemichi to pick you up. You had also gotten an ear full after getting caught, and as much as you trusted your brother, the last thing you needed right now was a lecture. You stayed locked in the bathroom until Draken gave the wood a gentle knock with his knuckles. 

“Cabs here…” He murmured. You didn’t look at him when you walked out, eyes bloodshot and downcast and when slipped past him fully clothed. He watched from the ledge of his bed, jaw set rigid as you so casually adjusted your bag over your shoulder, now a little overfilled with the stuff you had started to accumulate in his bathroom. Something slipped from your fingertips onto his kitchen counter before you made a beeline for the door, Draken only getting up when it closed firmly behind you. 

He approached slowly, that odd feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach seeming to grow, expanding into his chest as he noticed the subtle twinkle on the countertop. It was the anklet he bought you, dainty, gold, shiny, his initials hanging from the small tag. 

“Fuck—!“ His emotions boiled over into anger, face red when his fist connected with the drywall. A crack formed in the white fall, his knuckles taking on a deep purple almost instantly as he pulled his clenched fist back to his side. Instead, he let his forehead rest in the dent he just made, thoughts spiralling, making his heart pound in his chest. 

Had he really just done that? Made a big deal over nothing? Put his hands on you? And for what? 

You called him your boyfriend… was that really… so wrong? 

Was he really so set on “not being a sister fucker”, did he really care so much about what the boys thought, what people said about him, that he was willing to let you go? 

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed leaned up against the wall like that, thoughts running wildly through his mind, making it pound. Eventually, when his eyes started to get sore, narrowing down in an attempt to hold back unwanted angry tears he moved back to his room to plop himself down into bed. And he didn’t get up for the rest of the evening. 

It had been a week. 

One whole week since you had left Draken’s apartment, and the two of you had not spoken since. Day three was when Draken caved and texted you, considering you had turned your location off for him so he couldn’t check up on you from time to time. 

“Are you okay? Please, we need to talk.” 

Radio silence. The message was left unread by you. He even sent another the day after, just a quick message but a little more firm than the last. 

“Don’t shut me out like this.” 

And still, nothing. It was killing Draken from the inside out. Each day that passed made him more anxious than the last. Were you okay? Did you hate him now? Were you crying to your brother? Draken couldn’t ask Takemichi about you, cause he didn’t even know you two were a thing in the first place. But every time he saw his black-haired friend his heart would stutter, tightening up in his chest. 

You laughed just like he did. Were you laughing right now? 

Draken had a bad habit of letting things like this consume him. Almost everything seemed to remind him of you or something the two of you had done and it was driving him a little crazy. And all because you had called him your boyfriend. 

All because Draken was afraid to commit to someone again despite his need to do so. All of his friends always thought he was so mature, and yet here he was, working through feelings that were staring him right in the face like some teenage boy. 

He kept his headphones in at the shop, his body hunched slightly on the stool he set up beside the bike he was currently repairing. The music was loud, drowning out not only the background noise but his thoughts that seem to repeat themselves over and over. His brows were slightly furrowed when he lifted from the busted engine only a moment, just enough to wipe away excess sweat that built up on his brow. 

That’s when he caught a glimpse of you. It made his heart pause mid-beat, breath hitching in his throat. He caught the last bits of you as you rounded the corner that led up the stairs, probably in search of Takemichi But that didn’t matter. 

Draken found himself scurrying from his seat, the stool skidding from under him as he was quick to follow suit. With long strides, he made it to the stairs and there you were, hand on the railing, one of those cute little skirts he loved hugging your waist just right. He called out to you, twice actually, quickly pulling his headphones from his ears when you actually turned to look at him. 

“Hey–” 

“I won’t be long.” You simply responded, voice sounding much too sad for Draken’s liking. He noticed how your hand tensed up on the railing when he approached and it made him frown. “I’m just grabbing something for Michi–”

“I wanna talk to you.” He took another step, a tentative one. He hated how your eyes were already getting a little glassy. “Let’s just talk, sweetheart.”

“Don’t wanna talk, Ken.” There was that familiar shake in your tone, the one he had become very aware of. You were just like your brother in so many ways.

His sweet little crybaby. 

“C’mere…” He was on the step right in front of you now, the levelling allowing him to lean down just a bit so his face could be close to yours. You took your time meeting his gaze, fingers now fidgeting with the hem of your skirt. “It’s okay baby…” 

“You–” He could tell you were trying to gather your bearings, trying so desperately not to crumble and let the tears fall that were already sitting in your lashes. He was patient with you, scared that if he went in too strong you’d just run off from him again. You sucked in a shaky breath before continuing. “You really hurt me, Draken.” 

He could have hissed, chest getting a little tight. He hated the way that nickname sounded coming from you. 

“I know, I know little love and–” 

“Do you not wanna be my boyfriend? I thought you liked me.” 

“I do like you–”

“Then be my boyfriend.” It had been a bit more firm than he expected, your brows set and a little pout on your lips after you spoke it. Had things been a little different, he would have told you just how proud he was of you for standing your ground like that. 

“It’s not, it's just not that simple.” It was his turn to think his words over, lips catching between his teeth as those doubtful thoughts started returning to him. He was right, wasn’t he? It wasn’t that simple because– 

“Why not?” You were being blunt again, words bordering on angry as you sniffled. The first few tears finally fell and Draken wanted nothing more than to wipe them away. 

“Well to start, there’s your brother–” 

“I don’t care what Michi thinks!” You groaned it out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I wanna be with you, Ken–” 

“But–” He really hated that he couldn’t seem to find the right words. 

“What are you so afraid of?”  

That really made Draken stop, eyes widening just a bit as he looked back into your teary ones. Your chest was heaving a bit as the silence sat heavily between the two of you. Draken blinked, once, twice, brain reeling over this one simple question. 

Draken had been in many fights, grew up in a brothel, seen blood and gore and sex and a lot of things people shouldn’t see. He wasn’t scared any of those times. So, why now? Why was he so scared now as he looked into your eyes that were basically pleading with him for an answer. 

“I–” His words were shaky, and finally broke the intense gaze the two of you were sharing as he looked down. “I dunno.” 

There was another beat of silence before you continued up the staircase. Draken only looked up when he knew you were at the top, far enough away from him that he didn’t have to feel like your gaze was piercing him. He wished that he didn’t look though, wished that he hadn’t seen that sad smile on your lips. 

He never wanted to see that ever again, not on you. 

“I hope I’ll still be around when you figure it out.” 

Drake wasn’t sure how much time had passed now since he had seen you. The first few days he refused to even think about that interaction on the stairs. That sad smile of yours easily pulls his heart apart and thinking back on it only made him more and more pissed at himself. 

So instead of thinking of you, he filled his time with work. He found himself opening and closing the shop, despite Inui trying to make him go back to their balanced schedule. He took on more projects, burying himself under the weight of grease and bolts instead of dealing with the weight that now sat in his chest.

You hadn’t come back to the shop yet either, he had a feeling you’d never come back. 

What got Draken out of work early one night was a call from Mitsuya. He called twice before Draken reluctantly picked up the phone, the annoyance clear in his tone as he held the phone to his ear with his shoulder. 

“Ya know m’working–” 

“Well, you sound just delighted to hear from me~” Mitsuya hummed, chuckling when he heard Draken’s grunt from the other end of the phone. Mitsuya was organising threads by colour when he spoke. “Come over tonight?” 

“I don’t feel like partying,” Draken answered back right away. What he meant though was that he didn’t wanna go in case Takemichi was there because then he would only remind him of– 

“It’s not gonna be a party doofus, it’ll just be us two.” Draken made a look of disgust, more so at the insult than anything else. “Just come.” 

“I have shit to do here–” He was trying his best to get out of this, but if anyone could see through Draken’s bullshit, it was Mitsuya. 

“You’ve locked yourself in that damn shop for the past week, I know you can make a little time to go out. Let Inui close tonight.”

“Nah, it’s my night.” It wasn’t.

“Bet you haven’t even showered.” 

“Oh fuck off–” Draken grunted, sniffing himself only because Mitsuya wasn’t there to give him the side-eye. He scowled softly to himself when the scent he picked up coming from his overalls was far from pleasant. “Will you quit nagging me if I come, mom?” 

“Absolutely buddy.” Mitsuya was chuckling softly, rolling in his chair to pull back up to his sewing table. “See you at 7, doofus.” 

Draken wasn’t given the opportunity to snap back with something clever, the phone went dead right away. With a huff Draken resultantly found himself putting his tools away, tucking his overused workbench in its proper corner so he could head off to Mistuya’s. 

But not without a shower first. 

Draken’s hair was still damp when he headed for Mitsuya’s place. With how fast Draken sped his bike down the freeway, it only took about ten minutes tops. Draken lugged a case of beer with him up to the familiar walkway that belonged to Mitsuya’s townhouse. When he opened the door he still had his work glasses on, a lazy grin tugging on his features when he was met with the sight of Draken’s scowling face. 

“Would you look at that, he showered.”

Draken just rolled his eyes, nudging past Mitsuya and making himself at home. The two found themselves quickly situated on the couch, spread out on each end and open beers on coasters. Mitsuya had pulled out his old N64, so the two were currently in a round of Mario kart. The silence had been comfortable between the two, as it usually was until Mitsuay finally decided to speak up. 

“So, what's got you fucked up?” 

“What?” Draken said with a short laugh, his eyes staying glued to the tv screen. 

“You only get all solitary like this when something is really bothering you, so–” 

“Nothin’s up, m’good.” Draken simply grunted, which quickly turned into a scowl when Mitusya passed him for first place in the game. “Quit distracting me.” 

“Is it Takemichi’s little sister?”

Draken almost choked on his beer, finally looking away from the screen to look at Mitsuya who was still calm as ever. Only after he passed the finish line did he meet Draken’s gaze, one brow lifted up. 

“What about her?” 

“You were seeing her–” 

“I was not.” 

Now it was Mitsuya’s turn to laugh, a hearty one too that only made Draken’s brows furrow further. He pulled his glasses from his face, sighing out as he shook his head. 

“You think you’re so hard to read, but you’re not.” Mitsuya kept talking before Draken could bark at him. “I know you kept seeing her after that night.” 

“Okay, so?” Draken wasn’t sure why he was getting so defensive, maybe it was because it pissed him off that Mitsuya knew him better than he knew himself. 

“So, did you two break up?”

“We were never together.” Draken simply stated, going to start another round of Mario kart. But as soon as the words left his lips he hated the way they sounded, and now that they were out there, floating around his head it made him grip his controller a little tighter. 

“Oh, you weren’t?” Mitsuya said, that dumb smile of his making Draken shake his head, grit his teeth even. It was Mitsuya’s turn to scoff, tipping his beer back to polish it off. “You are such a fuckin doofus dude.” 

“Watch your mouth man–” 

“Why are ya doing this to yourself?” Draken sucked in a little breath. The silence hung in the air between them a little and Mitsuya rolled his eyes when he saw how Draken’s head tipped slightly to the side in confusion. He continued as he opened up another beer. “Why aren’t you letting yourself be happy? You can do commitment, you’ve done it before.” 

Draken felt a little frozen in place, eyes unfocused as he tried to process what Mitsuya had so obviously laid out for him. His heart started to pick up in his chest as he really thought it over, well at least tried to. “Yea, I did it before and look what happened.” 

Flashes of his relationship with Emma were impossible to ignore. How things went from wonderful to terrible so quickly. How the two of them became each other's world so fast for it all to crash and burn. The fighting, the lies, how he was so scared after he lost her but to also lose everyone he loved. His found family was all he had, and if they had decided to up and leave– 

“Sure, it was a bad breakup,” Mitsuya spoke with a simple shrug of his shoulders, looking at Draken’s pained face over the lip of his bottle. “But it didn’t stay bad, did it?” 

“Guess not…” Draken murmured. It didn’t. He didn’t lose his best friends, he didn’t even really lose Emma. After time apart and some growing up, the two had gone back to speaking terms. 

“So, let yourself be happy, dude.” 

“But she’s another little sister–” 

“Yea you have a type.” Mitsuya couldn’t help but laugh, especially after Draken sent his controller flying at him. Mitsuya thankfully caught it, holding a hand up in defence. “Relax! I’m joking… The boys are gonna bug you about it, but Draken, who the fuck cares.” 

Draken slowly nodded at that, allowing himself to really think it all over. He had never been the type to care so much about what others thought about him. He was letting himself get in his head for something that was already over and done with. Rubbing his hand over his forehead, he picked up another beer, shaking his head as he twisted the top off to chug some of it down. 

“I hate you, you know that?” He mumbled to Mitsuya, which only made him laugh out loud in response. He clinked his bottle up against Draken’s. 

“Love you too buddy. You should really make up with her.” Draken eyed Mitsuya over the lip of his beer. “I assume you said some dumb guy shit to her.” 

Draken pouted, mumbling something along the lines of “maybe I did” before he took another drink. Looking down the stem of the bottle Draken sighed softly, thinking of that sad smile on your face. It made him scoff at himself. “I just– I’m not sure I’ll be able to treat her right, as her boyfriend.” 

“Well, she’s stuck around this long, hasn’t she?” Mitsuya started to set up another game of Mario Kart for the two of them as Draken nodded slowly. “I’m sure if she didn’t think you’d treat her right, she woulda left.” 

Those couple words were left lingering in Draken’s head the rest of the evening. Mitsuya didn’t bring it up again, and Draken didn’t dare to. But as he started to pass out on his friend's couch, he had one too many beers to be driving himself home, he really thought over what Mitsuya had said. What he knew was right. 

I’m sure if she didn’t think you'd treat her right, she woulda left. 

Draken chuckled softly to himself, his palm coming up to slap him right on the forehead. The sting made him hiss to himself, but it's what he deserved. He’d never admit it out loud, but sometimes he wished his brain worked the way Mitsuya’s did. 

“I’m such an idiot.” He spoke, and it was Mitsuya sleepy agreeing with him on the couch beside him that had him laughing all over again. 

He knew you’d be finishing classes up on campus right now, had picked you up and dropped you off many times before to know that you’d be coming out of the big college building any minute now. He parked right out front, his hands dug deep into his pockets as he watched the door. His eyes scanned over many faces, all different kinds, all of them filtering through, onyx gaze trying to lock onto– 

You. 

You were in the middle of giggling, those familiar wrinkles showing up around the corners of your eyes, your pretty manicured nails holding the books you had tighter to your chest. The image made him smile fondly, lips upturned just a little when the two of you finally made eye contact. 

He was more than grateful that you returned the small smile. The darkest parts of him had conceived him; you'd simply walk right by him, or even turn around in the opposite direction. But instead, you excused yourself from your friends, who all couldn’t help but side-eye the older, imitating dude leaning on a motorcycle, dragon tattoo on full display with his hair pulled up in a loose ponytail. As you approach he speaks, unable to keep his eyes off your own. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi, Ken.” Just the way you say his name makes his heart flutter a little. He moves to the side, opening up the small compartment on his bike that’ll allow you to put your books inside. 

“Come with me?” He asks, and the momentary silence makes him feel more nervous than he had in a long time. You could say no, he could have taken too long. You could have already slipped right out of his fingertips and it would be all his fault– 

“Okay.” You simply reply, and your smile doesn’t falter. It stays as you tuck your books away, as he places his helmet on your bread and helps you adjust the straps. You in front of him on the bike just as you had on that first night he picked you up. His hands easily swallowed yours on the handlebars, and before you knew it the two of you were speeding off towards his place. You knew that because the route had become too familiar after the many times he’d whisked you away after school. Your heart was beating fast in your chest like it normally did when you rode on Draken’s bike. It filled you with a type of adrenaline you hadn’t been able to find anywhere else. 

That and the fact that his hands seemed to be holding yours tighter than usual. 

After a couple of sharp turns and uphill roads, you two made it to Draken’s apartment. He gave you your space as you two headed to his room a couple of floors up, his heart seeming to be in his throat. He needed to relax, he knew exactly what he had to say to you, knew what he had to do, and yet as he fiddled with his keys a bit to find the right one that opened his apartment, the familiar scent of your perfume was making his brain a little foggy. 

It was the warmth of your fingers that shook him from whatever haze he was in, the tips of his ears feeling a bit hot as your fingers easily tugged the right key, helped him slip it into the lock. “It’s this one, Ken.” You say it as if your presence alone isn’t making him weak at the knees. 

He just nodded, allowing you in first. Shoes were slipped off and the two of you found yourself in his kitchen. You stood right in the middle, your arms tucked neatly behind your back, hands clasped. He missed the way you used to make yourself at home, grabbing something from his fridge or sprawling out on his couch. 

He wanted you to be that comfortable again. 

“I really needed to see you.” He started, his voice a little hesitant. He cleared his throat, fingers once again in his pockets. He looked everywhere but at you, despite the way he felt your gentle gaze burning into him. “I needed, I just–” He huffed. “I really fucked up–” 

There was your familiar warmth again, but instead, you were grabbing at one of his hands. So easily your fingers threaded into his, and suddenly the weight in his tummy didn’t feel all that heavy as he looked down at you, those wide pretty eyes he had missed so fucking much. “You did kinda fuck up–” You murmur, which makes him huff again, this time with a hint of laughter behind it. “I know I did. I know.”

He pulled you in a little closer, and he was so very grateful that you weren't resistant. In fact, you melted into his chest, your face finding that familiar comfortable spot against his peck, cheek pressed up against where you felt his heartbeat, which was currently pounding in his chest. He sucks in another breath, one hand coming to gently pet your head. “I’m sorry, I’m real sorry sweetheart…” He feels the way you start to tremble and it eats at him, brows furrowing up. “Please, don’t babygirl, m’tryna apologise to you–” 

“Don’t be dumb like that ever again Ken.” Your voice waves and he knows you’re about to cry, but he doesn't stop you from speaking, if anything, your shaky words only make him hold you tighter, a fond smile coming to his lips. “Don’t leave me like that again!” Your voice cracks and Ken has to chuckle under his breath, but there's no bite to his laughter, only fondness. “Next time, just talk to me. I-I know I’m younger and inexperienced b-but I know what I want and that's you–” 

That's when he finally stops you, one big palm cupping your cheek. He tilts your head up, thumb smoothing over your cheekbone before he's pressing a smooch to your lips. You both seem to relax against the embrace, and when he feels a salty tear hit his thumb he swipes it away, lips parting from your just enough so he can murmur against them. 

“I know, lil love. I know.” When your lower lip trembles a bit a smile breaks out on his lips. One that makes the corner of his lips twitch, little wrinkles showing up around his eyes. His hands cup your neck so gently, thumbs pressing up against the underside of your jaw. He murmurs again, this time his words slurred along with your breathy, soft whimper. “I want you too…” 

This time the kiss is desperate, needy. Your fingers turn white at the knuckles when you grip at his shirt, lips moulding against his own. Draken’s tongue is impatient, slithering into your open mouth and reexploring the warm cavern that is your mouth. He huffs when your chest presses flush to him, and with ease his big hands cup your thighs, scooping you into his embrace. Your legs cling to his waist without a thought, the giddy giggle bubbling from your lips and against his own making a bit of blush rise on his cheeks. 

Oh, how he missed that sweet, sweet sound. 

Draken tries not to trip over himself as he carries you off to his bedroom, his back hitting up against the door at the same time your teeth playfully tug at his bottom lip. He drops you down and the bounce of your body has both of you a little too excited, Draken’s shirt easily coming off as he tugs it up over his head. 

“Lemme show you how badly I want you, baby.” His voice has already gotten deeper, and as his big hand comes to cup the back of your neck to pull you in for another kiss he’s a bit surprised when both your palms press against his chest, pushing him away an inch.

Surprised and panicked. Was he moving too fast, did you think he was just using you in your vulnerable moment? Had he really fucked up so soon again– 

His breath left him in a huff when his back hit the mattress, your body rolling over him. He blinked a few times as you straddled him, palms pressed against his chest and your face heated. He could tell that a flush was working its way up to your cheeks when you looked down at him, your body slowly scooting down from his waist to his hips. 

“No, let me s-show you.” Despite just how nervous you were, Draken could tell by the way you chewed on your lower lip, how your fingers trembled a little, undoing his belt and zipper, his cock still twitched with excitement underneath you an odd sense of pride flowing through him. 

You had come a long way, from the virgin he met all those months ago. He had just been the biggest idiot and here he was, pushing his hair from his face so he could watch how your pretty little hands handled his semi-hard cock with such care. How you looked at him first, batted your lashes when you leaned in and pressed the sweetest of kisses right to his tip. 

“Oh fuck—“ 

Yea, he was never letting you go again, ever. 

You took a deep breath through your nose before taking his tip between your lips, your eyes never leaving his dilated ones. He propped himself up on an elbow, free hand easing the hair away from your face. It was a sight that would be burned into his mind forever. Wide doe eyes, hand barely wrapped around his fat base, pretty lips suckling away at his tip. 

“You’re gonna be the fuckin death of me pretty girl.” Draken chuckles breathlessly, and the little glint in your eyes tells him you would have smiled had your lips not been preoccupied. He kept his hand gentle on the back of your head as you slowly took more of him, your tongue flattening out against his underside. His head tilted back in a groan at your steady pace, the warmth of your mouth making his skin prickle with pleasure. His fingers curled in your hair just a bit, enough to hold him back from jerking his hips into you, make you gag– 

He’d save it for another time. 

“Atta girl…” He murmured, chest rising and falling a little faster as you gained your rhythm. Your eyes peaked up at him again, before you got back into it, cheeks hollowing as you took as much of him into your mouth as possible. You reached about halfway, which Draken noticed made your brows furrow up. 

“S’okay, we’ve got plenty of time to make it fit, keep going lil love.” He encouraged, and you listened, head continuing to bob faster, sloppier. Draken could feel your drool dribbling down his shaft and onto his balls and it made him shiver. It didn’t help that your ass was up high, practically swaying like an excited little puppy just to be sucking him off. Swearing under his breath a moment as his balls suddenly felt all too tight, he pulled you off his cock, the pornographic pop of your lips making him grunt, you whine. The string of drool connecting your swollen lips to his cock was thick, and when it snapped onto your chin Draken could feel himself getting lightheaded. 

“W-Why did you–” He silenced your whining with another fierce kiss, and without hesitation you were manhandled back into his pillows, flat on your back. He has no problem working your soiled panties off your thighs, deciding to just tuck the extra material of your skirt into the waistband “Felt fucking awesome.” Your panties are tossed right over your shoulder, a cute yelp leaving you when he hauls both your thighs up, over his shoulders. “But I wanna cum in this pretty pussy.” 

From this position your pussy was split wide open for him, your clit poking out and throbbing from under the hood. He sighed, content, pausing his previous actions to lean in, pressing the softest of kisses right up against your clit. 

“My pretty pussy.” His soft touch is gone, replaced with his burning desire to claim you again. A few rubs of his cock against your slicken folds, along with your drool is enough to get his cock wet enough to slip in. His breathing hitches once his head makes it past the tight ring of your muscles, the squeeze vice-like just from the simple intrusion. 

“K-Ken–” 

“Shh, I know.” He coos, hunching over you. With your thighs on his shoulders, his shifting has you in a mating press, a position that all too knew and is making your head spin. Your tummy folds the closer he gets to you, the pad of his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your clit while the other intertwines with the hand you had gripping the sheets close to your head. “S’always gonna be a lil tight, isn’t it babygirl.” 

You’re already moaning in a wonton fashion, eyes struggling to stay open as he rocks his cock head in and out, his thumb working at your nub. When your pussy starts fluttering for him he works in a few more inches, needy sounds spilling into each other mouth due to his lips staying inches away from your own. “Gonna take it all f’me? Be my good girl?”  

You nod, and when you look at him again your eyes have that familiar glassy sheen he’s grown to love. He kisses you right under the eye before with one good push his cock is all the way inside. The sound you make is downright sinful, something between a cry and a mewl and it has Draken’s cock twitching within the tightness of your cunt. It makes his vision go a little stary, the growl he releases vibrating through his chest. 

“Good fucking girl.” The slap of his hips into your ass resounds throughout the room, squelching soon coming from between your bodies. In this position his cock nuzzles your sweet spot, seeming to reach down deep, into parts of you that you didn’t even realise existed, and it quickly has you falling apart, babbles freely spilling from your lips, tears wetting your hot cheeks. Draken is quick to kiss them away, his fingers tightening around yours as he puffs hot pants along your face. 

“D-Deep~!” You manage to squeak, and Draken has to crack a grin, his hips suddenly stopping their brutal pace just so he can roll them instead. That had you gasping, drool spilling from your hung lips as you look up at him with a gaze that's already beyond fucked out. “S’real deep baby, s’good though yea?” 

You nod, fresh tears on your lashes. “Only the best for my baby.” He utters, hips switching back and forth between rutting and grinding. He’s convinced you’ve already cum on his cock, the amount of slick bubbling around his shaft and the tightness of your walls are his hints, but he keeps going, needing to fill you up after so long. Despite your cries, he brings his hand back to your clit, his rubs becoming sloppy. He only releases your hand to cup the back of your neck instead, keeping your foreheads pressed together. 

“Eyes on me, lil love.” You do manage to open your teary eyes, meeting his dilated pupils. “Good, good girl.” His body starts to twitch, broad shoulders rippling and his thighs starting to tremble as his own release quickly builds in his gut. “I– fuck. Baby, I love you, pretty–” 

And despite just how dumbed out you were moments before, those words seem to bring some clarity to your eyes. Your fingers tangle into his sweaty hair, gripping it at the roots for your sanity. The pleasant little laugh you let out and breathe against his lips makes his heart jump against his ribcage. 

“I love y-you Ken, love you so much, Kenny–” 

His climax hits him hard, the full-body chill he experiences making goosebumps rise along his spine as he fills you up. The feeling of his warm, thick cum is enough to have you coming undone right along with him, the sensation being yet another new one when liquid seems to gush past your little hole. It makes Draken’s balls tighten up instantly, the warm splash of your arousal onto his fingers that still gently coax pleasure out of your clit. And he can’t help but grin, a boyish grin that quickly turns into a grunt. “Fuck, fuckin squirtin on me, how cute.” 

He doesn’t pull out, he can’t. He needs to be close to you, keep your limp body tucked carefully underneath him. You’re too far in to even notice the mess, your whines and whimpers dwindling down into soft breaths as he turns to his side, keeping you in his chest. His cock slowly softens in your walls, and even then, Draken’s keeps you glued to him as you both come down, tremors and pants still coming over both of you. 

“Sweetheart.” He murmurs, face nuzzling up against your temple. When he gets a whine in return he holds you closer, careful to ease your face away from his chest so he can cover your tear-streaked face in kisses. “You’re okay, my baby…” 

Draken is usually more responsible than this. Then to let you two doze off without a proper clean-up. But feeling your soft heartbeat against his, your fingers still lost in his hair, your lips pressed right up into the crook of his neck and puffing soft air, he just couldn't bring himself to let go. He didn’t want to let go now, or ever. Keeping you here, wrapped in his embrace, he was certain that you’d be there tomorrow morning too, with that beautiful smile he had fallen stupidly, hopelessly, in love with. 

Fuck it. He was taking on the little sister fucker title with pride. 

“Kenny, your hand is sweaty.” You murmur, trying to hold back your laughter when he shoots you a glare, pulling his hand away from you and dramatically rubbing it along his jeans. 

“Fine, just won’t hold your hand, brat” He grumbles, and that sets you over, wrapping your arms around him mid-walk to press small kisses along his collar bones. 

Draken hadn’t felt this nervous ever, in his entire life (this was a lie, he’s just dramatic as ever). The two of you were only steps away from your place, the same place you and Takemichi lived in together. Everyone was there, the entire found family, and you two were now official…

He was getting flashbacks of the group chat, his friend's ruthless behaviour, the way Takemichi hadn’t talked to him for one whole week, and the sweet satisfaction Baji got when he got one free punch to his jaw for Takemichi’s sake. 

“Maybe we can tell them next week, or over a call. Whattya think lil love,” Draken murmured, his face hiding in your hairline. Your sweet laughter sent that familiar warmth through his chest, and one good tug on his hand had him reluctantly walking back towards the house. “You’ll be fine.” You say with a smile, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. “We’re gonna do it together.” 

When you hopped up onto the front step, Draken’s eyes trailed down to the sweet dangling sound that was the anklet looped around your ankle. The gold one, with his initials, right where it belonged. The sight had him calming a little, brows furrowed in the way they usually did when he became focused. “Right, together.” 

“Michi-nii!” You call out once the two of you enter the house, the sound of music and chatter already filling the front entrance. Draken holds your hand a little tighter as if he had been entering a place he’d never been before. 

“Living room!” Takemichi calls out, surrounded by founding members of toman, each huddled around the kotatsu table that was covered in snacks, beers, and cards. Oddly enough the chatter died down as Takemichi was dealing out for another round, a laugh leaving his lips. 

“You guys gonna take this round seriously–” It was Mikey’s elbow into his ribs that silenced him, a little puff escaping his lungs. He was about to complain when his eyes were brought to what everyone seemed to be staring at. 

And that was you, beaming smile and all, with your hand held tightly by Draken’s, who couldn't seem to make eye contact with anyone. 

“Hi Michi~ Hi everyone! What are ya–” 

“Finally.” Mitsuya was the first to mutter, leaning back further into his spot on the couch. “Chifuyu, you owe me 20 bucks, told you they’d come out today.” 

“No fair!” Chifuyu blurted out, grumbling when he reluctantly pulled bills from his pocket. Pah and Peh were the first to start laughing, clinking their beers together.” 

“Wait, you knew? How?” Mikey questioned Mitsuya, who triumphantly took the money from Chifuyu with a laugh of his own. Kazutora was even starting to crack up, hiding his smirk behind his beer. 

And despite all the commotion, Takemichi sat dumbfounded, eyes glued to yours and Draken’s intertwined hands. When he did finally speak, it only made the group that much rowdier. 

“Well, what the fuck is this–” 

“Time for another punch,” Baji said with that signature grin of his, basically hoping from his spot on the couch. 

“Wait wait!” You said, your pout only stirring the pot further. “No one is punching anyone! We’re–”

“We are dating,” Draken said, eyes a bit narrowed as he spoke. “We’re dating, Takemichi, I wanna date your sister, and I’m gonna.” 

There was another round of silence in the room, but it didn’t last, not when Pah mumbled under his breath. 

“Classic sister fucker–”

“Well, you could have at least asked first?!” Takemichi was dramatic as ever, tears swelling up in his eyes at the thought of his precious little sister being tarnished by the big, mean, scary man that was Draken. He let go of your hand then, being just as dramatic as Takemichi if not more so “I did ask, I just asked in front of everyone.” 

“But you’re already dating, have been a while no…?” Classic Mitsuya, stirring the pot and making everyone act up yet again. 

“Now why would you say that you ass–”

“C’mon Michi, I’ll punch him again for you, one good punch like last time–” Baji was punching at the air for emphasis. 

“Sister fucker behaviour,” Peh said with a shake of his head, only making Pah laugh harder. 

And amidst the bickering and nonsense that always seemed to break out between the boys, you took a seat next to Mikey, taking the Taiyaki he had to offer you with a little huff. He noticed the anklet, observant as ever as you rolled your eyes when Takemichi actually started crying, something about you losing your innocence. 

“He’ll treat you right.” You looked at Mikey, who spared you a small smile and a pat on the head. “Draken–”

“I know!” You responded happily, eyeing him as he held Baji back, the nerves he was feeling earlier long gone. You took a bite of the Taiyaki and giggled. 

“I can’t wait to be with him, forever!”

property of kenslilove, do not copy, repost, translate, or move onto any other platform!! 

[hyunsvngs]

𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐢𝐫 - seo changbin x gn!afab reader

wc: 6.3k

rating: 18+. MDNI

cw: sex with no strings attached, sexy changbin, changbin’s tummy (deserves a warning because it is so overwhelming), bin is cocky and cute, mentions of body hair, smut (specific warnings under the cut, minors please do not interact!)

synopsis: your situationship - the man of your dreams - gives you full, explicit permission to fuck his frat brothers in your effort of a hot bitch summer. who’s next, after you ruined your best friend in bed?

a/n: part three of the fratboy series, hot bitch summer!:D fratboy bin is on my mind… so sexy. also enjoy the build up of more lore in this one!! this part is really integral to the series :) 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: strength kink, size kink, public sex (they fuck in a gym room but it’s locked), pet names (little bunny), a LOT of dirty talk, fingering, spitting, a very brief blowjob, seo changbin has a THICK COCK like SO THICK, maybe d/s dynamics a bit? dom!bin then sub!bin at the end?, creampie, brief cockwarming

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Waking up in Minho’s bed after a night of unadulterated pleasure had become a regular occurrence in your life. The man just knew exactly how to push your buttons in exactly the right way, and you more often than not even found yourself staying over in his bed after parties too. Even slightly intoxicated, you had the best sex you’d ever had with him.

His words were still lingering on your mind, though. Could you truly tick off every member of the frat? The SKZ frat itself had only eight members, with frat president Chan being extremely selective in who he let join. Jisung and Changbin were allowed in because they all loved music production, with it being both Chan and Jisung’s major. Changbin simply had an affinity for it and had done it as a side course with his sports and exercise science degree.

Minho, you believed, had formed the fraternity with Chan initially, and he was elected vice president. Hyunjin and Felix were accepted instantly because of their involvement in Minho’s dance society. Jeongin was Minho’s adopted baby that he met through Felix, because the both of them played video games together regularly. Jeongin took it a lot less seriously than Felix did.

Interestingly, Seungmin was accepted because he was rumoured to be the author of the Gossip Girl-esque blog in the university, titled Hall of Fame. This fact had never been confirmed by Seungmin himself, but rumours ran rampant around the school. You often wondered if the anonymous posts were actually him, since they never seemed to include members of his frat. It was as if they’d been selective, only ever about people from other fraternities or sororities. You’d been lucky enough to not have one about you, and that got you thinking - you were a relatively well known figure on campus due to the people you choose to surround yourself with. If it was Seungmin, had you been excluded from the posts because you were friends with Jisung and Felix?

The smell of bacon and eggs wafted through the home into your nose and invaded your senses. You quite literally heard your stomach grumble, needing food after yet another long night of partying, and you stretched before pushing your legs off of the bed to stand up. They felt so weak these days, due to you being fucked by Minho so often. You didn’t even know how to remedy it. You sure as hell weren’t going to stop fucking him.

Hobbling downstairs slowly, you entered the kitchen to be met with the sound of Seungmin and Minho bickering. From what you could gather in your still slightly sleepy haze, Seungmin was angry because Minho had decided to cook for you, him and Jisung, and he refused to give Seungmin any. You blinked through the fog, feeling Jisung place his head on your shoulder. The touch was a welcome one, comforting and by your best friend. Felix sat next to Seungmin across from you, giggling at something Hyunjin had whispered into his ear. 

“Y/N, my baby,” Jisung chirped happily, rubbing his round cheek against your shoulder. You sighed, letting your head loll on top of his. “Good morning. How are you?” 

“Mm, I’ve felt better. My legs feel really weak and tired.”

Seungmin choked on a laugh while eating a spoonful of the bowl of cereal he’d had to make due to the fact Minho refused to cook for him. He pointed his spoon at you vindictively. “Maybe because you’re trying to fuck the whole frat?” A drop of milk dribbled off the end of the spoon and splashed back into the bowl, taunting and slow. Even the milk was roasting you.

It was Hyunjin’s turn to giggle. “Hey, they’re pretty. They’re allowed to fuck us all.”

You groaned, nuzzling your cheek against Jisung’s soft hair. Jeongin had since entered the room, hair sticking up everywhere and a loose t-shirt hanging off of his slender frame. He’d quickly thrown himself onto a chair and placed his head in Jisung’s lap. You noticed Minho adding extra bacon to the pan automatically upon Jeongin’s arrival. Seungmin looked like he was about to have a breakdown, shoving more Frosties into his mouth and chewing angrily. His eyes were narrowed at Minho, yet Minho didn’t even grace him with a glance, simply smirking to himself over the pan. 

Jisung carded his fingers through Jeongin’s hair, making Jeongin flutter his eyes shut and let out a pleased hum. “You know, you could go to Binnie. He works out a lot. He could stretch you out so your legs aren’t as weak.”

Binnie. Changbin. Stretching you out. Oh yeah. Now that sounded good. You turned to Minho, seeing him plating up four plates of food. 

Changbin was probably the man of your wet dreams if Minho didn’t exist. He was a beefcake, to put it simply. You often found yourself ogling his muscles in sleeveless shirts and wishing nothing more than to leave bite marks all over his tan skin. You wanted him to press his full weight to you, feel that delightful sexy fucking tummy against your back as he pounded you with his undeniably thick cock.

Going to the gym with Changbin sounded amazing. Minho brought the plates over quickly, sitting down on your other side. He looked at you, sending a subtle wink. “I think that sounds amazing. He’s coaching the weightlifting society tomorrow. You can grab him after practice.”

Oh, you planned on grabbing him alright.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You arrived at the training room Changbin was supposed to be in around ten minutes after his weightlifting class had been expected to end. It was the morning, sunlight glaring through the window. You’d dressed comfortably, tight gym leggings and a loose t-shirt adorning your figure and a simple pair of old trainers that had probably seen better days. They were stained with droplets of bright paint from the time you and Felix had tried to redecorate your room - it hadn’t gone well, and you’d actually been staring bemusedly at the random patches of different colours before you left the house.

He was situated on the bench press when you walked in, effortlessly pumping out reps of 50 kg as if it was nothing. He didn’t have a spotter, so this was clearly lightweight for him. You thought you could die, heart racing, just standing in the doorway and staring at him. He hadn’t even noticed you yet.

Once Changbin had re-racked the bar, he turned to you, blinking confusedly. It took him a second before a cute toothy smile appeared on his face. “Oh, Y/N! Hi! Sorry, I kinda lost track of time.”

“It’s okay, Changbin,” you smiled, walking further into the room. You made sure to close the door behind you, subtly locking it while he was retying his laces. He was wearing a tight black vest top, a face mask pulled down under his chin and his hair natural, dark and curly. His legs were clad in loose basketball shorts, showing off that he does, in fact, attend leg day. You were shamelessly ogling him, and he brought your attention back to his face with a laugh.

“Bin is fine, or even Binnie,” Changbin grinned. He stood up from his laces and clapped his hands together triumphantly. “Okay, so Sungie mentioned something about your legs. You wanna strengthen them, yeah?”

You blanched. Okay, so Jisung had told Changbin your purpose for being there, but had he told him why? You doubted Changbin would have no idea. He knew, but at least he was being friendly about it. Changbin ushered you over to a mat on the floor, and you obediently walked over to sit down cross-legged on it. He sat next to you, pulling the face mask off altogether and throwing it aside.

“Erm, yeah. I guess so. They’re just really, um, shaky? Weak? I’m not sure,” You mumbled, fingers smoothing down your leggings awkwardly. Could you have less finesse, ever? You’d been awkward with Minho, given he’d walked straight out of your wet dreams after plaguing them like a demon for months, but you surely didn’t have to be like that around Changbin. Changbin hummed, nodding at your explanation. “I don’t think weights would be best. Maybe I just need to-“ Be stretched out. “Stretch. I need to stretch.”

Changbin nodded. “Sounds good. Can I touch you?”

Please. “Yeah, of course.” 

He reached over, his hands pressing at your calves. His hands were wide, with thick, manly fingers that weren’t too long but looked like they’d be such a fucking good stretch. His fingertips were slightly calloused from the overuse of barbells. You wondered what he’d be like in bed - would he put his muscles to good use, pinning you down and making you take it, or would he let you take control like Jisung did?

You sighed, almost inaudibly. What the fuck was wrong with you?

“Okay,” Changbin mused. “They are kinda weak, I can feel it. The muscles are spasming when I touch them. Could you stand up, and touch your toes? It’s a yoga pose, I just wanna see how weak they actually are.”

Yoga? Okay. You had flashbacks to Felix trying to teach you how to do yoga, some random shit he’d learnt from Hyunjin. You’d both done one pose before falling over cackling. Standing up immediately, you bent over to touch your toes. He came behind you, humming again. You tried not to think about how he was now standing behind you, grabbing your hips to correct your position and making you arch your back a little. As if he was going to push into you from behind, slow and thick, quite literally stretching you out-

You were speaking before you could even control it. “Oh, fucking hell.” 

Changbin’s hands paused on your hips. A beat passed, and then two. Then he was laughing.

“Hey, did you seriously just come here because you wanted to tick me off of your sexy bucket list, or did you come here to actually fix your legs?” You shot up, turning around to face him. He put his hands on his hips, still letting out loud giggles. You couldn’t help but let out a scoff and laugh with him.

“Well. I actually do need help,” you rubbed your temples, still laughing in disbelief. Changbin shook his head, rolling his eyes playfully. “Hey, I’m serious!”

“No, no, I believe you. But you wanted to fuck me later, didn’t you?” Changbin accused, pointing a finger. “Maybe I will fuck you. You’re stretching first, though. Bending over for Minho so many times does horrible things to the body.”

You grinned, resuming your position of touching your toes. “Oh, you’d know, would you?”

Changbin flicked your thigh, still giggling slightly. “Shut up, would you? So fucking sassy, heh. I’m going to massage your legs now.”

You felt his hands pushing you into a position where you were laying down on your front. The strong hands on your back and right shoulder made your cunt pool with heat, but you tried to ignore it. Unsuccessfully, because you were instantly thinking of him manhandling you into other positions when you had finally pliantly dropped to the mat. When did you become like this? You were the horniest you’d ever been.

His strong palms began to knead against your calves. The feeling was delicious, actually - he knew what he was doing. You felt instantly relaxed, letting him ease the ache out of your muscles. When he moved up to your thighs though, you felt that incessant need in your core return and you wanted to scream in frustration. He was taking his time, working out every knot in your legs and you just laid there, arms crossed beneath your head for you to rest on. 

All of a sudden, Changbin’s hands were pushing up against the seam where your asscheek met your thigh. You jumped in surprise. “Huh?!”

Changbin smirked, that same cocky smirk you’d got earlier on. “Feeling tense here, you know? Better stretch you out.” You blinked. They’d definitely had a conversation, either him and Minho or him and Jisung - you weren’t sure which you’d prefer.

Fuck it. You squirmed onto your back, looking up at Changbin. He cocked an eyebrow at you, a mischievous smile still on his full lips. “You gonna fuck me now, Binnie?”

Changbin shook his head again, fondly. “You’re insatiable.”

“You love it.”

“Maybe I do,” he spoke, before diving down to capture your lips in his. He quickly had you pinned to the soft mat underneath you, tongue sliding across your bottom lip before caressing into your mouth with intricacy. You moaned, running your fingers through the soft curls on his head. You tried to wrap your legs around his slim waist, but he was quick to shift you, pressing your legs back into the mat with a firm hand. “No.”

“Thought you were gonna fuck me,” you pulled away from the kiss and huffed, hips squirming. Changbin looked appalled.

“I fucking am! Just- you’ll get hurt again. Your legs are sore, remember?” He pressed another peck to your lips, spreading your legs himself manually. He positioned in between them, a promising bulge pressing against your clothed pussy. 

You sighed with pleasure when he started rutting the bulge into you, kissing your neck softly. “There’s no sex position that won’t hurt my legs, Bin.”

“Mm, sure there is. I’ll show you.” 

Well, colour you intrigued. You gripped onto his biceps, fingernails digging into the large muscles when he pressed a kiss to the neckline of your t-shirt. You were quick to push him up slightly to rip your t-shirt off impatiently. He must’ve moved himself, because there was absolutely no chance you’d managed to shift a man of that stature with one hand. Your sports bra was very much less than sexy, and you screwed your face up with embarrassment when you remembered you were wearing it. Changbin didn’t seem to care, because with a quick movement behind your back the bra was unclipped and thrown to the side. 

He immediately latched onto one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around your areola. You whimpered, pushing your chest into his mouth. He hummed against the peaked bud before moving to the other one, using his thick fingers to tweak your already lathered with spit nipple. He was still rutting into you, although the movement had gone slightly lower with his ongoing mouth efforts. 

“Mm- Binnie, wanna see you too. Please.”

Changbin pulled back, his mouth wet with spit and his hair all messed up from your hands running through it with passion. He quickly shucked his vest top off, revealing a delightful set of sculpted pecs and a sexy fucking tummy. You wanted to clench your teeth into his tan skin and leave your mark there. This was made worse when you noticed the delectable looking snail trail of hair at the bottom of his tummy, leading down into something you needed to see very soon.

“Oh my God,” you murmured. Changbin tilted his head in confusion. “Your tits.”

Changbin burst out laughing, before clenching each one in a rhythm. You giggled, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and bringing him back down for another heated kiss. Your bare chests rubbed against each other, his full weight pressed against your frame to hold you down against the yoga mat. You whined into the kiss at the stimulation on your nipples, and he took the opportunity to push his tongue into your mouth in a filthy kiss of swapping spit. His biceps were curled around you, his body pressed tightly on top of you, almost crushing - but you loved it. He was just so much bigger than you.

“You like that, don’t you? Feeling me crushing you,” Changbin muttered into the kiss, stealing little pecks between each word. “I bet you’re fuckin’ soaking. Gonna let me take a look at your pussy, little bunny?”

You moaned, nodding, the pandering to your size kink making your brain blur with arousement. He was pulling off your trainers quickly then, yanking your gym leggings down and leaving your underwear covering your core. He groaned, pushing your legs open softly. You could feel the wet patch on your underwear, slick sticking the fabric back to your cunt everytime you moved. He was no doubt staring at it with lust when one of his hands went to palm his erection through his shorts. 

“Fucking hell, you liked that, didn’t you? You like me calling you my little bunny? You like being smaller than me?”

You nodded eagerly, squirming while he spoke. He was still staring at your pussy, wet patch expanding the more he’d spoken. “Take ‘em off, Binnie. Have a good look,” Changbin sighed, scrunching his eyes shut before nodding. He looked like he could barely control himself. Good. You didn’t want him to. 

His fingers were latching into your underwear then, pulling them down and revealing your pussy, folds sopping wet with your arousal. He gazed down at it, eyes blown wide with lust and his breathing heavy. 

“Fuckin’- Jesus,” Changbin swiped two fingers in between your folds, collecting slick on his fingers. He pushed them into his mouth, moaning at the taste. “So fucking sweet. Look at Binnie’s little bunny making a mess, huh? Do you want a taste?” 

You let your tongue loll out of your mouth, expecting him to push his fingers past your tongue. Instead, he crouched down quickly, swiping his tongue over your core in one thick swipe. He swirled the tip of his tongue around your clit quickly before he was moving just as quick back up to you, gripping your jaw between his thumb and index finger. You didn’t even have time to feel his plush, doll-like lips on your clit, which slightly disappointed you before you realised what he was doing.

Made to open your mouth wide like this, you moaned out unabashedly and loudly when Changbin let your arousal drip from his mouth and into yours. He was watching it enter your mouth. Before you could even swallow it, his tongue was back in your mouth, swiping around the wet cavern and trying to get more of the taste for himself. You let him kiss you for another few seconds, feeling him rutting into your now bare core as he whined into the kiss. He liked it dirty then, you mused.

You pulled away, trying to catch your breath. “Gimme,” you mumbled, thumbs hooking into his loose shorts to try and catch a glimpse at his erection. He pushed your hands away, mumbling incoherently about you being impatient. You huffed, shifting up onto your hands to watch as he pulled the two layers of fabric down altogether. Your jaw dropped. “Oh.”

Changbin looked at you cockily as you took in his length. It was shorter, not as long as Minho’s but he did make up for it more than enough in girth. You thought your jaw would break if you tried to suck him off, and you weren’t entirely sure your hand would even fit around it. Your pussy was going to cry. You wanted it so fucking badly.

A rivulet of precum was leaking from his flushed cockhead, travelling down the veiny shaft and landing in a pleasant thatch of curly, dark hair at the base, wetting the hair. His balls were heavy, full, and you wanted them in your mouth. You wanted it all in your mouth, actually, even if it would kill you trying.

“Pleased?” Changbin quipped. You looked back up at his stupid confident smirk, grabbing him by the wrist and throwing him on the mat beside you. It took all of your strength, but you managed it. He squeaked with surprise, but you ignored him. You were quick to push up onto your knees, shuffling down to be face to face with one of the best cocks you’d ever seen in your life. You needed it, right there in that gym, where you’d probably end up smelling like sweat from a different kind of workout. You were more than glad that you’d locked the door.

You stared at it. “This is going to kill my jaw.”

“You really don’t have to- oh God-“ Changbin was cut off by you sinking your wet mouth onto the tip of his cock. You could already feel the uncomfortable stretch on your jaw, but you were determined, suckling the precum into your mouth and swirling your tongue around the head like it was a lollipop. You let your spit dribble out of your mouth and onto his thick cock, feeling amused when he let out a loud, rather high-pitched moan.

Focusing on the cockhead, you let your tongue dip into his slit to swallow the tiny bit of precum that he’d blessed you with. He looked gorgeous, laying back against the mat with his thick thighs spread and a just-as-thick cock hanging between them. One arm was behind his head, massive biceps tensed as you stared up at him and swallowed the tip of his cock repeatedly. You wanted to see him ruined, but you had a feeling his cock was going to ruin you. His jaw was dropped, plush lips letting out deep sighs.

You tried to bob your head and get more of his dick in your mouth, but you were unsuccessful. It seemed it was just too fucking thick, and you were scrunching your face up in disappointment when you suckled on the cockhead one more time before pulling up. Pumping it absentmindedly, you stared up at Changbin. “Too thick.”

Changbin laughed, pulling you up to lay on top of him with ease. “‘S okay, little bunny. I want to take care of you, if that’s okay?” 

Well, how could you say no to that? You smiled, giving him a quick nod, and then you felt his finger reach down and press against your entrance. It was filling you before you knew it, his thick digit stretching your hole open. Eyes rolling back into your head, you moaned and writhed on top of him, grinding your clit into his tummy. 

“Bin- don’t need prep, fucking-!” He ignored you, pushing another finger in alongside the first one.

“Minho warned me you were impatient,” He scoffed, pumping his fingers steadily. He was scissoring them inside of you, trying to stretch your hole out further than it could possibly go. “I should’ve believed him. I don’t know if you saw, but my dick is really fucking thick. Little bunny can’t take it without prep, okay?”

You didn’t argue, like you had with Minho. You had argued with Minho and ended up feeling like your pussy was being split open by Minho’s thick cock, and Changbin was even thicker. Also, you knew that if you’d tried to argue he would’ve just laughed at you and told you not to argue with him, so being a brat was futile. Bouncing on his fingers, you resorted to trying to relax your hole and let it stretch enough to take him. Taking this dick may kill you, but you’d be damned if you didn’t try your fucking hardest.

Changbin cooed at you, brushing your hair out of your face with his free hand. “That’s promising, little bunny. You’re taking my fingers so well, huh? I think I’ll put a third one in, okay?”

“Mm, yeah, can take three,” Your eyes fluttered shut when yet another finger went up to your hole, pushing up slowly. He moaned when your pussy clenched tight around the three digits, not wanting to stretch further. He was no doubt imagining the tightness your cunt would give him when his cock got inside of it, and you couldn’t blame him - you were imagining the fucking stretch you were going to get. 

“I think I’ll curl them up, yeah? Just like this?” Changbin questioned you, curling his thick fingers up to reach your g-spot. You immediately keened, and Changbin giggled, continuing to hammer his fingertips into the spongy spot inside of you. “Oh, yeah, like that, huh? I know what you’re thinking. Will I make you cum before I fuck you?”

Well, you weren’t thinking anything, fucked dumb on his fingers - but now you were thinking that. Will he make you cum before he fucks you? You weren’t sure if you wanted to or not, being impatient and wanting his dick inside of you, but he seemed to be playing the long game. You bounced on his fingers again, wanting just a bit of stimulation on the bundle of nerves between your legs in a hope that you could cum quickly and get his dick inside you, like, yesterday.

“B-Bin, I need your cock, you can’t make me cum before, need it-”

Changbin let out an ear ringing laugh again, flipping you over so your ass was flat against the mat. He continued fucking his fingers into you immediately, thudding into your g-spot over and over in a fast rhythm. “I can, and I fucking will, little bunny,” You simply nodded, accepting your fate. “Nothing to make you relax like a world-shattering orgasm, right?”

You scoffed. “Well, I’m not gonna cum if you don’t touch my clit, Bin.” He stopped the movement of his fingers, staring at you with a nonchalant expression.

“I’m not going to touch your clit, and you are gonna cum. G-spot orgasm. Heard of it?”

You blinked. He didn’t mean…? “You’re gonna try to make me squirt?!”

Changbin shrugged, pinning one of your legs down to spread you wider. “You may not squirt, but it’ll feel really fucking good. Squirting is an added benefit for me, to be honest,” He looked cocky, a boyish smile on his face. Oh yeah, he liked it messy. You let out a squeak when his fingers started hammering into your g-spot again, fast and rough, making you want to squirm away from the pleasure. When you tried to, his hand was quick to push your hips back down and just make you take it. It didn’t feel like a dominant move, more a petty, playful move than anything, and you found yourself panting and your head rolling back onto the mat.

“Shit, I can’t, Bin,” You whined, fingernails digging into the mat. You were sure you’d leave little crescent moon shaped indents afterwards. You could feel yourself getting close, never having experienced such intense solo stimulation to your g-spot before - fingers could move in different ways to what a dick could. “Bin, Bin, Binnie- Bin, pleasepleaseplease, hnng-”

Changbin leaned next to you, kissing your neck softly. “No need to beg me, little bunny. Cum whenever you want.”

You gasped out, feeling his palm go to press down on your belly. It made the fingers feel even deeper, and before you knew it, your thighs were shaking in one of the best orgasms you’d ever had in your life. 

“That’s it, there you go,” Changbin whispered in your ear, his lips brushing against your ear. You didn’t think you were squirting, but Changbin was completely right, you’d never felt anything like this before. The ecstasy started at your pussy and felt like it was busting out all over your body, making your body shake and your eyes flutter shut. You were whining, moaning, possibly even close to screaming - all just from a few fingers. You came to, your chest flushed and your breathing heavy as you tried to calm down. Changbin was looking straight at you, smiling in that boyish way again and actually looking a bit bashful. “Do you, uh… do you still want more?”

Your eyes flickered down to his erection, still painfully thick and hard. His cockhead was red, leaking. “That’s not even a question, Bin. Gimme.”

Changbin giggled again, letting his fingers slide from your dripping hole. You grimaced at the loss, trying to move your legs back together, but you were shocked when Changbin grabbed you by the waist, lifting you up into his arms. 

“W-What? What are you-?”

He held onto your hips, waiting until your arms were wrapped around his neck securely to stand up. You were suddenly in the air, jaw still dropped while you stared at him in disbelief. He’d really just lifted you up like you were nothing. Your pussy was throbbing again. “Not using your legs, remember? I’m gonna hold you.”

“Y-You- oh.” You gasped when he was holding you close to him, letting one hand drop to position his cock at your entrance. You were being held up completely, one hand at the small of your back to hold you close and not let you fall while his other was finally allowing himself to have some release. Instead of pushing his dick in, his hands went back to your hips, staring into your eyes as he simply let you drop onto his cock, taking it in all at once. “Oh- oh shit, Changbin, it’s so fucking thick!”

Changbin simply grunted, giving you next to no time to adjust before he was grabbing your hips, bouncing you onto his cock. “G-Gonna just fucking use you like my little fucktoy. That… Is that okay, bunny?” He was struggling to get his words out, hands on your hips tightly while he moved you up and down on his cock. Your eyes rolled back into your head, fingers gripping onto his neck tightly. It was such a big fucking stretch, feeling like you were being ripped apart but you loved it, your hole leaking more slick the quicker he bounced you.

“Yeah, yeah, love it, fucking- use me like your fleshlight, Binnie,” You whined, letting your head drop into the crook of his neck. You could smell his sweat, the odour of manliness filling your senses and just proving to turn you on more. He was so manly, made up entirely of thick muscle and a thick fucking cock with a cheerful, loveable personality. The man fucking giggles, for God’s sake. You put your hands on his shoulders for purchase, trying to squirm to ride him yourself, but his tight grip was not one to be matched. 

“I’m not like Minho or Jisung, little bunny, I want to cum inside you and have you - fucking shit -  full of me,” Changbin groaned, pumping you quicker. You could feel his heavy balls slapping against your asscheeks, making you whine. You wish you’d got them in your mouth first. “C-Can I do that? Can I creampie this little pussy, get you to leak me out all day?”

You keened, nodding, eyes blurry. “Mm, yeah, want your cum Binnie. Gonna fill me up? Please, please,” You were babbling, feeling your cunt clench around him tighter at the mention of him filling you up with his cum. Thank God for birth control.

“Told you you don’t need to beg with me. You want me to cream inside of you? This pussy’s so tight, little bunny, it- it’ll be fucking- oh- overflowing, dripping out,” You clenched harder at that, eyes rolling back into your head. You were sure you were drooling on his shoulder. “So tight, so small. Feel so good around my cock, bunny. You’re so small, I can just pick you up like this and bounce you like a toy.”

“‘M not small, Binnie, you’re just fucking strong,” You whimpered. Changbin moaned loudly at this, walking you over to pin you against the wall. You could feel your back slide around on it with the sweat accumulating on your spine, but you really couldn’t give a fuck, focusing on the cock pistoning in and out of your dripping hole. His body against yours would keep you upright if you slid around, his chest nice and sturdy. “So strong, Binnie, shit- you’re so- your arms, your tits, fucking-”

“Yeah? Y-You like them?” Changbin asked, his biceps flexing with the effort of holding your hips up. His cock pumped steadily into you, him almost sounding insecure - you knew it was just the effect of the pleasure you were both feeling.

“Mm, love them. You’re so fucking sexy, Binnie, knew I had to have you,” You tightened your hand on his shoulder to let your other hand go down and rub your clit, rubbing steady circles around the small button. Changbin groaned, his head dropping forward, forehead pressing against yours to gaze down at you touching yourself. You let out loud moans and whines, feeling yourself get closer and closer to your peak. “Binnie, fuck- getting close, oh…”

Changbin nodded against your head, pulling your hips even closer to him to hit you deeper while he bounced you on his cock. You could feel the slick slide of his cock in and out of you, and he didn’t even look anything close to tired despite ramming you up and down on his cock for this long. He had some amazing stamina. “C’mon, pretty bunny. Cream all over my cock, c’mon. Feels good, yeah?”

“Yeah, f-feels so good, Binnie, ah-“ You jolted at a particularly hard thrust, fingers rubbing quicker against your bundle of nerves. “Yeah, yeah, gonna cum!”

“That’s it, you’re so- so fucking good for me. Binnie’s bunny is so good, h-huh? C’mon, let me feel you make a mess on my cock,” Your jaw dropped in a silent scream as your orgasm hit, making a mess of Changbin in a gushing orgasm. He moaned, encouraging you with little coos as you let the pleasure bloom from your pussy and all over your body. 

Changbin didn’t stop thrusting, something that alarmed you a bit, but you could handle it. You let him push you against the wall sharply and start to thrust into you instead, his hips moving on autopilot. You whined through the sensitivity, your walls still fluttering around him as he fucked up into your g-spot. 

You looked down at his cock stretching your hole, seeing the hair at the bottom of his tummy and his pubes wet with your juices. The sight was erotic, primal - it made you wonder if you could cum again. Without thinking too much into it, you dipped your fingers down to collect some of your cum that had amassed in the hair and pressed them into Changbin’s mouth.

He promptly keened into your mouth, tongue swirling around the digits. He let his jaw drop open, your wet fingers dropping out onto his chin. “Mm- gonna c-cum, please, please!” What was with these frat boys and begging you? You were still trying to ignore the sensitivity of your pussy and focus on the pleasure, but you nodded nonetheless.

“Yeah? Cum for me Binnie, come on. Breed me nice and full, yeah?” Changbin whined loudly, his head dropping to the crook of your neck. He was drooling all over your skin, pressing wet, messy kisses into your neck. All of a sudden, his hips halted, and you could feel a new warmth filling you up. He let out one singular whimper, his breath coming in heavy pants as he filled you up. 

You gripped his shoulders, letting him pull his head up to look at you. He gazed at you with watery eyes, before blinking at you and laughing in disbelief. “Jesus fucking Christ, bunny. Fuck!”

You giggled, fingers dancing over his skin affectionately. “Good?” Changbin rewarded you with a scoff, still keeping his arms around you. He carried you over to a bench and promptly sat down, his softening cock still inside you. It was rather comforting. 

“Good? I don’t think I’ve ever behaved like that in my life. I’m normally a bit… softer,” Changbin admitted, his cheeks burning. You cooed, squishing his cheeks in your fingers and making him swat your hands away. “Hey, no!”

“Sorry, Binnie. You’re just super cute.”

“Yeah, well…” He rubbed the back of his neck, timid and bashful. “Anyway, we should get you cleaned up and dressed. Minho’s gonna be here in about-“

A knock on the door interrupted you both, making you shoot up and off his lap. You clearly over judged your own stability though, because you immediately fell to the floor from how weak your legs were. You squeaked, face planting the ground.

Changbin burst out in hysterical giggles, barely managing to pull himself together to tug his boxers back on and go to unlock the door. You briefly wondered what was going on, why he was so ready to answer the door in so little clothes, and… had he said Minho was coming? Oh. The lock was slid open by Changbin’s deft fingers and then the door followed afterwards, opened just enough to allow a body to enter.

“Um. Are they okay? Did you kill them?” You looked up at the familiar voice, seeing Minho standing there in front of your eyes. You blinked.

“What… why are you here?” You managed to get out. Minho simply laughed mirthlessly. 

“Well, someone’s got to take responsibility for you and take you home when you’re fucked boneless, right?”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You laid on Minho’s chest later that day, watching some random anime on his laptop perched on his lap. You weren’t even paying attention, thoughts running rampant. “Minho, is it weird you’re… um, letting me fuck your frat brothers?”

“Letting is the right word,” Minho hummed, fingers scratching over your scalp softly. “You make me feel good. Who would I be to deny my brothers the same pleasure?”

You nodded. It made sense, you supposed. “Yeah. Okay, yeah. But… are we…?”

Minho was brief, a monotone statement. “No more questions. You know what we are.”

You blinked. You nodded again, turning your attention back to the screen.

Whatever you and Minho were, your situationship that you had going on, you were content for the time being. You got to fuck around, live your hot bitch summer, and then go home to the one you wanted the most.

What could be more perfect, really?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

taglist: @moasworld @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @queenofthegardengnomes @boomfrogg @hoeinthehouse @msaddictions @sunnyhonie @hizliyuruyen @jyu037 @jouoy @drhsthl @seungincore @jellylver @veedoesntknaur @meloncremesoda @k-poplv @livieloo914 @fekixfmp @fawnpeaks @minnielvr @imastraykidsfan @hanjisung2023 @hoelynecujoh @kyrviu @sxgeofprohets @everydreams-penumbra @chaneomma @kkissreol @secretjj @phtogravi @princelingperfect @personawthai @dirah-h @straykids5star @luvhyux @chuuswifereal @stg110 @cookiesandmilfx @number1seungminstan @skzswife @starsandrqindrops @poody1608 @cutiespaghetti @hwa-0403 @i8rsie @kpopsstuffs @everyonehatesshani @han8ul @velentine143 @vixensss @cuddlehye @sheeshhhhfelixsworld @angeldhd @comicnerd557 @leeknowfz @imwithurmother @hrtsformin @maknae00 @teaholic @ficrecnctskz @tasteskz-sworld

[eddies-ashtray]

Knee Socks // Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Synopsis: Eddie has a thing for his best friend's thighs. She catches him jerking off and Eddie’s fantasy becomes reality. Part 2 to this blurb (though this can be read independently). 

WC: 2.7k

Category: Smut (18+).

Content: Eddie’s thigh kink, knee socks kink (?), kinda perv Eddie, kinda ditzy reader, masturbation (male receiving), fem receiving oral (face riding), nicknames. 

A/N: This is for my girls with thick thighs. I love you and you are gorgeous. Also, I have a tag list, but not everyone who liked the tag list post will be tagged here since many of the blogs do not have their ages in their bios--which is a requirement to be added to the tag list that many people ignored ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

♡*♡*♡

Eddie’s never endured torture before but he is pretty sure that he has a good idea of what it would feel like. And he is currently experiencing it.

It’s a lazy Saturday evening and you and Eddie have spent the day together, which is the furthest thing from torture in his opinion. It’s the opposite of torture, actually; Eddie cherishes your company more than anything in the world. 

Right now though, you lay next to him on his bed—you, on your belly facing him, and Eddie, leaning against the headboard with his acoustic guitar in his lap—as you doodle in your notebook while humming one of his songs. And while that is nearly enough to send him into overdrive, you are also wearing a brand new skirt. The torture device itself.

Eddie knew he was in for the most torturous day when he answered his door and you were there in your black knee socks and that skirt, presenting it to him excitedly by giving him a twirl on his doorstep. He hadn’t missed the way your thighs jiggled with the movement. In fact, he fixated on it and forced himself to stifle a groan at the sight as you exclaimed, it even has pockets!

Previously, Eddie had thought that your red skirt and knee socks were the most deadly pairing, but this one–oh, God, this one. It’s a simple black skirt, nothing super fancy, but it is so—so—short that he’s sure that if you bent over, he’d get a pretty view of the curve of your ass and your soft cunt through your panties. The thought has his mouth watering instantly. 

He’s torn because he never wants you to leave, but he also really needs you to leave so he can take care of the growing bulge in his pants. Eddie is thankful he has his guitar covering his lap. 

Luckily, his dilemma is solved when you glance over at his alarm clock and say, “Oh! Shoot, I need to get home.” As you begin to shove your things into your bag. 

Relief floods over him, followed by a wave of guilt. He should not want his best friend to leave so he can jack off to the thought of her and the way her pretty, thick thighs look in her new skirt. 

Eddie’s about to climb off the bed after you get up, intending to walk you out even though his bedroom is no more than 20 short paces from the front door of the trailer. But he’s stopped by your hand on his arm applying gentle pressure to stop him from standing, the contact causing his face to burn hot and the skin under your hand to sizzle with electricity. 

“Don’t worry, Eddie, I can find my way to the door,” You tell him, not wanting him to have to walk you to his door. It’s not exactly far. 

“Oh, alright,” Eddie agrees without protest. He wouldn’t have to awkwardly hide his hardness from you after all. 

“See you tomorrow! Bye, Eddie,” You say with a dazzling smile as you open his bedroom door, giving him a little wave just before you exit his room and shut the door. 

“Bye,” Eddie says just as his door clicks shut. 

Sitting very still for about 15 seconds, he waits for the resolute slam of the trailer door before he hurriedly stands from his bed to place his acoustic guitar on its stand, and shoves his jeans down his legs, nearly tripping on his way back to his bed. 

Another wave of guilt crashes over him for a moment before fizzling out as he settles back on the bed and squeezes himself at the base of his cock. He’s already leaking pre-cum, his boxers likely stained from the sticky substance. 

“Fuck,” Eddie groans, flicking his wrist on his first stroke and running his thumb over the bright red tip. Pressing the tip of his thumb meanly into his leaking hole, Eddie moans loudly, unabashed in the empty trailer. 

The guilty part of him encourages him to get on with it, to stop teasing himself so the shameful act of thinking of you while he touches himself can be over with as soon as possible. So he does, quickly spitting thickly into his hand before wrapping it back around his thick length. Because he’s painfully hard, and desperate, and can’t fight off the image of your plush thighs as his fist flies over the length of his flushed cock.

Just as he’s getting into a fast, pleasurable rhythm, the worst–best?–thing happens. And it happens so quickly that he doesn’t have the time to stop, or throw a sheet over himself, or do anything that would make this moment less awkward. 

His bedroom door whips open.

“Sorry, Teddy, I forgot my-”

But Eddie doesn’t get to find out what you’d left behind. Because you freeze in his doorway. You, and your knee socks, and your teeny tiny skirt, and your mouth-watering thighs freeze at the cusp of his bedroom while he’s half naked in his bed as he pumps his cock to the thought of you. It throbs in his hand at the sight of you in all your gorgeous glory, stunned into silence—except for the tiny half-gasp, half-squeak that leaves you. 

This moment would be a whole lot more awkward and embarrassing if you’d done what he’d expected you to do the moment that door had opened. But you do none of what he thought you might. You hadn’t screamed in horror and covered your eyes or slammed his door shut and left immediately, leaving behind whatever it was you had left here. No, instead, you stand there, unable to take your eyes off his pretty, thick cock. Unable to remove your gaze from the pearly pre-cum dripping from his tip and the way his large hand moves over his length. Instead, you visibly swallow and rub your thighs together as if you’re trying to provide some relief for yourself. As if the sight of Eddie on his bed touching himself is enough to make you wet, to make your cunt ache with desire. 

So, all of this considered, Eddie takes a chance. 

Eddie takes a chance when he begins to lazily stroke his cock again in a much slower rhythm, teasing you. Your eyes widen to the size of saucers at the movement. 

Eddie takes a chance when he says, “C’mere, sweetheart.” As his back arches just slightly off the bed when he tightens his fist around his girth on an upstroke. 

For the first time since you’d caught him, your gaze shifts from his cock to his face–which is probably tinged a pretty pink right about now, shades lighter than his tip. 

“W-what?” You stutter, delicate hand still poised on the door knob. 

“I said: come here, sweetheart,” Eddie repeats slowly and more commanding this time. 

It takes a moment, but eventually you scramble toward him while he continues the most torturous pace of his fist over his cock. 

Eddie had thought that earlier–when he was forced to watch you prance around his bedroom in that skirt and those knee socks–had been torture. But now, here you are, crawling onto his bed, and his palms are itching to reach out and touch you. 

Once you’re settled on your knees next to him–your skirt now bunched up high on your thighs from the way you’re kneeling–, you reach out to replace his hand with your own, but Eddie has different plans. 

“Nuh-uh-uh,” he hums, clicking his tongue in disapproval, halting your movements. 

Your gaze finds his eyes as your lips melt into a delicate pout. You, disappointed at the fact that he told you not to touch his cock. 

“But-please?” You beg, voice watery, and Eddie thinks he could cum just from your simple pleading to touch him. 

A slow, pleased smile spreads across his face before he clarifies, “I’ve been dreaming of something else, sweetheart...” His gaze falling to your legs and his free hand creeping up your thigh–causing goosebumps to rise in their wake–where he toys with the edge of your skirt. “And I’m just dying to have a taste.” 

“Oh,” You reply dumbly, breathlessly. “Yes, please.” 

Eddie’s brows knit together, pained by your sweetness. “God, you’re just the sweetest thing, aren’t you, angel?” He says, stroking your thigh gently with his thumb.

Your head ducks bashfully at the new nickname and his remark and it’s all making his cock somehow harder and his belly stickier with pre-cum. His hand slows to a stop on his cock, sure that if he kept it up, he’d be cumming any second now. 

“Alright, angel, get up here,” Eddie instructs, tapping his chest. “Want these pretty thighs around my head,” He says with a mean squeeze to the dough of your thigh. 

He expects you to reach underneath your skirt to tug off your panties before you climb over him, but instead you move to straddle his chest immediately. Since your skirt is so short, it simply bunches around your hips with the new position. And he finds the most wonderful sight once you’re hovering over his face: your naked cunt, already slick and glistening. Saliva fills his mouth at the view and he groans. You’d been in his home all day, wearing that tiny skirt without any panties, knowing full well that he’d get an eyeful if you so much as bent over. 

“Naughty girl,” Eddie growls as he brings both his arms around your thighs before turning his head to place a gentle kiss to the plushness of your left thigh. It’s just as soft beneath his lips as he thought it would be. 

With his hands now gripping the outsides of your thighs, Eddie finds they are soft and sweet, so pillowy they feel like clouds beneath his fingertips. Digging his fingers into the flesh roughly, greedily, Eddie begins sucking a harsh bruise into your thigh, causing you to whimper pathetically above him. 

If a heaven existed, this would be it. 

Though he’s dreamt of marking you up, of scattering bruises across your pretty thighs and admiring his work, it would take some time to do it just the way he wants. And right now, his craving for a taste of your soaked cunt—which hovers teasingly above him like a feast after months of not eating—is so overwhelming Eddie simply cannot wait any longer to devour you. He’ll take his time with you another day, but right now all he knows is that he might die if he goes another second without his mouth on your puffy cunt. 

So, Eddie tightens his grip around your thighs and pulls you forcefully down onto his tongue, causing you to gasp in shock at the swift action. 

Eddie’s groan of pleasure rivals your moan as his tongue rolls teasingly over your pudgy clit for the first time. Then, he flattens his tongue and licks a thick strip from your slick-leaking hole all the way up your cunt, getting a proper taste of you. You’re a slice of heaven. 

“Oh! E-Eddie!” You cry, and this only causes his hips to thrust into the air in search of friction, of relief. But he’ll neglect his cock forever in favour of your taste on his tongue. 

The crush of curls on your mound glistens with your slick now as Eddie begins to devour you messily, shaking his head back and forth in a fast motion, an action that represents his carnal hunger for you. When you roll your hips hungrily over his tongue, his cock throbs on his belly where it lays, steadily leaking pre-cum. 

“There you go, angel. Use my tongue,” Eddie encourages after pulling away for a moment. The seconds it takes him to say that to you when he doesn’t have his mouth on you are torturous. 

Once he gets his tongue back on you, the point of it seeks out that little magic button that has you rolling your hips more aggressively over his face. You’re a messy, moaning angel above him as he tongues at your clit. 

Eddie thinks this is the happiest he has ever been; the prettiest girl in the world sitting on his faceher thighs pressing against his ears so tightly her moans are muffled slightly and her cunt on his tongue so wet he can hardly fathom it. 

“Mmh, p-please!” You beg, though he’s not sure for what. But he realizes he doesn’t care because you are so vocal and listening to you moan and beg above him is his new favourite song. 

Again, Eddie flattens his tongue over your messy cunt, but this time pushes his tongue into your weeping hole, and begins to thrust it in and out as he brings one of his hands up and around to toy with your clit with his thumb. This combination seems to be your favourite as you moan wantonly above him, hands flying down from where they were previously gripping the headboard to crush into the curls atop his head. 

“Oh, God,” You moan, shivering above him, totally blissed out as your eyes roll into the back of your head, your eyelids slide closed, and your head tips back. The delicious slide of his tongue in and out of you combined with his thumb rubbing meanly into your clit is just too much. 

Eddie can feel your slick dripping down his cheeks and chin, but he doesn’t mind in the least. In fact, he basks in the sticky mess of it all. Sex is not worth it if it doesn't get messy. 

Your hips roll over his tongue again and your hands in his hair pull harshly, causing Eddie to moan at the prickling sensation, cock twitching at the mixture of the pleasure and pain of the action. 

“Fuck! G-gonna cum, Eddie! Please, please can I cum?” You plead weakly from above, eyes finding his, which have remained open this whole time, not wanting to miss a single second of this glorious moment. 

Unwilling to pull away from you in order to answer, Eddie simply mumbles something that sounds almost like yes against your cunt. You seem to understand though because Eddie can feel you clench around his tongue, all the while his thumb continues to rub tight circles into your clit. Your eyes screw shut as you ride out your orgasm, squeaking out the cutest moan when your mouth falls into a pretty O shape, and you thank him over and over again. Soon, your hips halt their movements and you pull in heaving breaths. 

Whimpering as you gently push his hand away from your sensitive clit, you collapse forward against the headboard behind him. You could stay like this for as long as you needed—forever if you wanted to—and Eddie would forever be happy right here between your thighs with your cum smeared across his chin and cheeks and your taste heavy on his tongue. 

Unfortunately, that is not a realistic fantasy, and eventually Eddie is helping you off of his face and you’re collapsing next to him, breathing heavily even still. 

Rolling over onto his side to look at you, he smiles at the sweat dotting your forehead, and brings a hand up to your face, tenderly stroking your warm cheek with the back of his clean index finger. You nuzzle into the touch and smile lazily up at the ceiling.

Eddie doesn’t have to ask to know the answer to his question, but he wants to hear it from you anyway. Wants to confirm that his dreams have just come to fruition and you are actually laying here, clothes rumpled and your wetness staining his sheets. 

“How was that?” 

Your head lolls to the side and you gaze up at him incredulously. His face is shiny, covered in your wetness. It causes a new warmth to bloom in your chest. 

Despite the fact that you thought it was obvious just how much you’d enjoyed it, you sigh dreamily: “Wonderful.” 

And Eddie can’t wait to make you feel wonderful again and again and again, to make you cum so hard you not only see stars, but entire galaxies. 

♡*♡*♡

Tag List: @tvserie-s-world @micheledawn1975 @hi-im-a @bbellee @apricxtt @rhirojo @daraperl @lmili @lunatictardis @sw34terw34ther @sarcasm-is-my-form-of-attack @stardust-galaxies @d20eddie @niragis-right-hand-rabbit @bunniwarrior @trashpackbitxh @yoursunnydelorean @seweratwitch @hunnimilkteaaa @pretty-rad-for-a-redhead @a-villain-vying-for-attention @lil-graveling @msmimiandrew @eddies-lover @whoreforhowl @saramelaniemoon @brittanyyydamnit @winnifredburkleismyhero @edsforehead 

[joseigamer]

Interview with the Vampire Manga Adaptation (Yoake no Vampire) by Udoh Shinohara + DL Link

DL LINK HERE

Happy new episode of IWTV AMC day! Today though, I want to share something I've teased earlier on my blog, which is the Japanese manga adaptation of the Interview with the Vampire gothic horror novel. See under the cut for more details!

It came out in 1994, a bit after the movie, but it only referenced the book itself. It consisted of a single volume made up of three chapters, so events are condensed and abridged, and it skips Part II in Eastern Europe. The first two chapters were scanlated into English by a group named Trine and distributed on the aarinfantasy forums in 2007, but the third chapter was kind of lost to time, especially after all the links to the raw Japanese scans went down years ago. However, I discovered that a now defunct Portuguese scanlation group did the whole thing (individual credits included in the .zip), and I was able to recover chapter three, use heavily cross-checked and edited MTL (PT-ENG), and deliver the final product to you all. See more notes about this process or where to read the PT version in the readme file included in the .zip! It's not 100% perfect and I would not call it true 'scanlation' obviously, so if anyone can do a better job I welcome them to! I hope more visibility on this manga makes the raws become available again so a true JPN-ENG translation can be done on the last chapter!

This manga obviously has major IWTV book spoilers, but it does NOT include anything from later books in the series and is honestly quite faithful overall. It even includes Lestat's father. I might actually call it slightly gayer than the book, since Louis and Armand become more obviously in love. I would recommend it to anyone who's watching the series and hasn't read the book yet, as well as to anyone who enjoys the books alone! The art style is very 90s, but it has some really beautiful visuals sometimes, especially with Claudia. I hope everyone enjoys reading it!

[thepeonysbackup]

◇Satisfaction◇

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Summary: THE LAST PART TO DRY HUMPING??? Thank you guys for liking my dumbassery? Craaaaazy to think any of you would liked this weird brain shit I got goin on in this blog.

Warning: Smut, pure, unadulterated smut. Smut smutty smut smut smut! (Just enjoy-)

Word count: Noneeee! Just made this

“I really am impressed,” Al hissed into your ear as his lips trailed down your neck, fingers working deep into your clenching heat as his other hand kneaded the flesh of your breast from underneath your knitted button-up sweater, “You lasted far longer then I believed you would, but alas you didn't meet my true expectations.” His fingers curled, two digits rocking into the spongey spot right near your entrance, drawing a cry from your lips at the teasing. “I fear you haven't earned me inside you just yet.” Finished with a nip to your ear, tweaking your peak with a roll of his forefinger and thumb as your ground down into his other hand, whines and soft gasps continuing to climb in volume as fireflies hummed and blinked around you both. He'd brought you into the swamplands of his pocket dimensional room, his tie, belt, and cane strewn halfway to where he had worked you up from at the door. Your body relaxed flat against the deer demons chest upon his lap so he could have his way with you as he pleased. It was torture though, the edge that was just close enough to reach always furthering itself as he'd slow his movements or move his thumb from your swollen clit to stop that thread from snapping in two. “N-no- I- But!-” You writhed, hands feverishly trying to find a place to rest as the repetitive edging was starting to become to much. “No, Al.. I'm sorry, I never- I didn't mean—” He hushed you, grinning lips placing another kiss on your skin before he managed to switch your position on his lap, making your legs straddle a single thigh so he could see that begging expression.

That pleading look in your foggy eyes, “I'm afraid I won't be going back on my word, Darling. But I will let you have the release you crave.” He explained while moving his hands from your chest and wet, squelching cunt to your waist, from there he drew your body forward and watched as you jolted and squirmed with a noise of embarrassment from your enjoyment of the feeling. His wicked grin grew, eyes narrowing as his smile twitched until you able to see the blackness that was his gums, “Mm-” Your hips jerked against him, hands coming up to his shoulders as a brace as you began to move yourself, no longer needing Alastors help in the matter as strings of moans and blubbering gasps started up again. Satisfied with your eagerness to please yourself from his teasing attacks on your most sensitive area, he leaned further away, back falling flat onto the grass as his ears flattened against his hair and he growled at the feeling of your wet juices flowing over his pants, your knee grazing his bulge that was oh so noticeable. But not to you. “Fuck- Al.. ‘S not enough.. It's not- I can't..!” You whined, body bending forward so that you were hovering over him, hair coming undone from its once firmly tied place, framing the two of you like a curtain as the radio demons claws slipped behind your head to bring you further down. Your body was laying atop his, hands gripping the grass near the sides of his head as his lips caught you in a kiss that broke your mind in half from the unexpected action and surprising amount of affection placed behind it. He plunged his tongue as far into your mouth as he could, his other hand continuing its guidance of your lower half as your eyes rolled back into your head, and your body began to twitch harder. You were right there, and all he had to do was push you all the way. How lovely for him, to have you in this bind, and not even one with your soul but with your mind. Your leg hiked up and slung over his other thigh, your heat pressing firmly on his straining bulge before you finally could hear a noise bubble from beneath Al's static that crackled. A noise resembling a glitched moan left him, noise transferring into your mouth which you reciprocated as he bit down onto your tongue, blood falling onto his lips which he lapped desperately up before you both flipped over.

You felt the soft grass, hair messy against it as you panted against the man above you’s lips, your legs being tugged upwards as he broke the kiss and buried his face into your shoulder so he could rut down between your legs at a quick pace. “How..” He breathed heavily, eyes failing to focus properly on your blissful expression, “How dare you do this to me.. You filthy thing..!” Those words were dripped in malice, anger from the pleasure you were providing for him when he had only wanted you to break for him. You had, but at what cost to his own pleasure. This grotesquely marvelous feeling he'd detested with his entire soul finally feeling as it should, like he needed it to feel as his hips pushed harder, the throb becoming nearly unbearable. He was there, the gooey warmth finally adding to the damp spot that had nearly dried and then some as it seeped slightly through the fabric, the white stickiness gently coating your lady lips as he continued to rub against you until your own climax hit you like a truck. With a groan of sorts, hands holding him into your chest while your body arched, you came undone against him and allowed your mind to fade as he pulled himself flat down against you with a sigh before darkness consumed you.

[cherry-bomb-ships]

Hello everyone! Welcome to our Valentine's Week mini Self Ship event!

Pr*sh//ip please dni

From February 12th to the 18th, I'd like to invite you all to participate in a self ship event all about love! This is meant to be a low-effort, laid-back event where the hardest thing you'll probably have to do is interact with other people 😅 Each day will have a different theme for every type of f/o and self shipper! The themed days are listed below:

February 12th - Familial F/o Day! This day will be all about focusing on your familial f/os! Parents, siblings, kids, or any other character you consider part of your family. ❤️❤️

February 13th - Platonic F/o Day! This day is dedicated to all our fictional besties!! Give some appreciation to the f/os that are there for a good laugh and a shoulder to cry on. 💛💛

February 14th- Romantic F/o Day! Of course, Valentine's Day itself will be dedicated to the special f/os in our lives who are there for us through thick and thin. Our f/os love us every day and we love them, but we'll give them extra love today! 🩷🩷

February 15th - Self Love Day! Sure, it can be argued that all of self ship is a form of self love, but I really want us all to focus on it today, by thinking about and maybe even listing out the things that our f/os would especially love about us. 💝💝

February 16th - February 18th - F/o Takeover & Letter Writing Weekend! This one is a bit of a player's choice; option one, an f/o takeover! Y'all know the drill on that one by now, let your f/os of choice answer questions on your blog for the weekend. ❤️ Option two, for those not into takeovers, is to spend the weekend writing love letters to your f/os! They can be as short or long as you like, while also making as few or as many as you'd want to. I'd also like to highly encourage sending out f/o letters to your fellow self shippers from their own f/os! ❤️

There we have it! That's our weekend, laid out in its entirety. However, these are more guidelines than strict rules. You can really run the week any way you like, as long as you're enjoying yourself!

I would also like to add that this month, for those who don't know, is Black History Month, so while you focus on your ships, don't forget to show some love to my black brothers and sisters in the self ship community as well! 🧡🧡🧡

I'll have some more suggestions on things to do below the cut, but I'll end it here up top, because this is long enough as it is. Feel free to reblog to get the word around, and for just one week, let's only think about love. ❤️💝🥺💝❤️

Now then, here are some suggestions on things to do over the week on our themed f/o days:

For our creative types, you could create some art and doodles, writing and drabbles, gifs, screenshots, or any other type of content for your f/os of the day.

For those who want a more chill experience, just some good ol' gushing will work perfect! I'll also be trying to make some short ask games full of questions for each themed day.

For the self-love day in the 15th, I highly encourage everyone to make a list of things that their f/os love about them. Of course not everything is always perfect, so if you'd like, you can also talk about your flaws and the way that your f/os would still love you with them. I don't wanna see any self deprecation though, because I know all of you are much more wonderful than you may think! ❤️❤️

Lastly, for the weekend, as I said earlier I would love to see people sending out letters to other self shippers. If anyone remembers the To My S/i events from a few years back, as much as I would love to run an event like that, I know that's setting some people up for disappointment when they don't receive any letters, so I want it to be something that's encouraged but not expected. That being said, it's still highly encouraged! Even if you're worried about how accurately you may write someone's f/o, I believe you should still give it a try anyway! 💝💝💝

That's about all the suggestions I have, except for this last one: while this week is about love for our f/os, I still wanna see love for our fellow self shippers with plenty of interaction going around, even something as small as a reblog or question sent for an ask game makes a big difference! And remember, just like the New Radicals said, "you only get what you give."

If you're reading this far, then thank you! Go ahead and throw a "btw my f/os love me" into your tags to let me know you got this far. I hope everyone enjoys the event!! 🩷❤️💝❤️🩷