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iamthatonefangirl · 1 month ago

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distant - nsfw beefy bucky

this one feels kind of different than my normal fics, but I like the concept too much to kill it.

~~~

Bucky Barnes was nothing if not a threat.

okay, no, he wasn't a threat, yet for some reason your body responded to him as though he was.

the first time you met him, you thought it was a gut instinct telling you to be wary, that you couldn't trust him.

you knew his story. you didn't think it inherently gave you any reason to distrust him; you truly believed that everyone was more than their past.

at least, you hoped that was true, if only for your own sake.

when you met him, the fluttering in your stomach and the needling sensation in the palms of your hands set off alarm bells in your head. historically, that kind of reaction had always been an indication that there was something wrong; something to be cautious of, something to protect yourself from.

you kept your composure, making sure to stay calm and not let on that your body was screaming at you something's wrong here.

there wasn’t much you could do given that you were now going to be teammates. you elected to simply keep your distance from him as best you could.

~~~

given how huge the tower was, you assumed that you would be safe from having to interact with Bucky Barnes. he didn't live on your floor, and there were quite a few gyms and a million kitchens in the building. you'd only have to work with him in the field, and when that happened, you would be at your best and would be prepared to protect yourself.

there was no logical reason that you'd have to protect yourself from him, but that ache in your chest, that pit in your throat... all the signs pointed to be cautious. that’s what you thought they meant, at least.

regardless, you figured that you would be safe from him in the tower, so you wouldn't have to be on guard all the time. there was no way you'd see him.

apparently, you were dead fucking wrong.

his room must have been somewhere above yours, because every time you made to get in the elevator, he was always already in it.

when the doors opened, he'd look up as though startled by the fact that the elevator had stopped. he'd see you standing there and would flash you that soft smile of his. it was small and muted on his, honestly, quite attractive face.

he looked like a kicked puppy with his tail between his legs, trying to put on a brave face.

being trapped in the confined space with him only worsened the anxious feelings that came with being near him. you tensed your shoulders, stood up straight, and refused to turn your back to him.

you told yourself he wasn't a threat.

but you'd learned the hard way to always trust your gut, because what else could your body possibly be telling you this way?

you quit riding the elevator in favor of taking the 15 flights of stairs.

~~~

these people were quite a social bunch, you found.

you learned that it was commonplace to use only the kitchen on the fourth floor, and the gym and training areas on the seventh. and, being the newbie, you couldn't afford to lose too much face time around these people. you would be pleasant, be social, and you'd get in and out of the common spaces as quickly as possible without throwing up any red flags.

you hoped no one noticed the way you would quietly excuse yourself whenever Bucky Barnes entered the room.

it was easy to excuse yourself from just about anywhere, except the gym. it's harder to just up and leave in the middle of a workout.

so you tried to keep it together, focusing on your music and keeping your eyes ahead of you as you ran on the treadmill. you could sense whenever he came into the gym, that sixth sense you'd developed to alert you when enemies were near.

he's not your fucking enemy, you tried to reason with yourself.

then why did your brain think he was? what was your subconscious mind trying to tell you, exactly?

in the moments you managed to get a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye, you noticed how he always seemed lost. that sad puppy dog demeanor of his never seemed to fade.

you refused to let yourself look at the hefty weights he would pick up. you're sure a single one was as heavy as a car, given his super strength and those huge muscles...

you felt another pang in your stomach at the thought. you attributed it to the fact that if you were to have to protect yourself, your own strength was no match for his.

one day, you'd been trying to beat your PR on the bench press when suddenly, your sixth sense went off. he was nearby. fuck.

you tried to ignore him and focused on finishing your set, but out of your peripheral vision, you saw him walk past you. you faltered, your arms shaking, and you struggled to push the bar back up.

shit, shit, shit, rang through your head.

and then, a hand made of metal entered your vision from above, and lifted the bar enough to set it back on the rack.

wow. he’s really fucking strong. that’s kind of…

you quickly sat up, pulling an earbud out of your ear to face him.

"uh, thank you," you stuttered out, looking him up and down cautiously. you'd never really spent any time talking to him except for when you first met him, and even then, you were too nerve-wracked to have a proper conversation with him.

"no worries," he responded. "do you need a spot?"

"oh, no," you laughed, standing from the bench. "I'm done."

you quickly grabbed your phone and water and began to bolt. "thanks again," you called out to him awkwardly as you walked out the door.

this was becoming a problem.

~~~

the next time you were preparing for a mission, Steve had brought you the file about a week ahead of time. "you and Bucky will be going solo on this one, sound good?" he asked you.

you didn't hesitate. "yes, sounds good!" you said cheerily.

you and Bucky Barnes had worked together before, but it had never been just the two of you. but you weren't about to tell Steve you didn't want to work with him; you couldn't have Steve thinking anything was wrong. you were still new and had to work to prove yourself as a capable member of this team.

you spent the rest of the week hyping yourself up, telling yourself it would be fine. you just... wouldn't be able to sleep while you were there. you'd have to stay up to stay on guard at all times.

you'd be fine.

except, day of, you were sitting in the Quinjet waiting for Bucky Barnes to board so you could head out.

it wasn't him.

~~~

after he'd spoken to you, Steve had approached Bucky about the mission, handing him the file detailing the objectives and informing him that it was you he'd be working with.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea, Steve," Bucky told him. "I don't think she likes me very much."

"she seemed fine, enthusiastic even, when I told her you'd be working together," Steve assured him. "she likes you just fine, Buck."

"just... I think it would be better if someone else went instead of me."

Steve considered pressing the issue, but chose not to. he knew Bucky wasn't quite back to himself, if he would ever be after the trauma he'd endured, and so he couldn't force him.

as Bucky watched Steve board the Quinjet in his place a week later, he wondered what he did to make you hate him so much.

probably nothing. he was an easy person to dislike.

it was difficult enough to stomach the fact that you didn’t like him the way he liked you.

the fact that you didn’t even like him as a friend…

the thought only made his heart sink deeper.

~~~

Steve didn't bring up the change beyond telling you that Bucky had dropped out for personal reasons. part of you was relieved to not have to deal with that miserable, gut-wrenching feeling all weekend.

the other part of you was concerned. had you offended him?

of course you had. he wasn't stupid. he probably knew that you were social with everyone except him, and he probably took it personally.

was that why he always looked so sad? because of you?

the night you got back from your mission, you sat with Natasha in one of the common rooms to debrief. it had been a fairly quick job with few hiccups, and you were grateful for the opportunity to work with the one and only Captain America.

you still couldn't help but question why Bucky Barnes hadn't come.

you changed the subject slowly. "thank you again for bringing me in, after... after Dreykov went down." you began. "I never thought I could actually do anything meaningful, especially not accompany someone like Captain America on a mission like this."

you didn't really hear what she said next. you were too focused on the question that had been swirling in your head all weekend.

"he had told me that Barnes was supposed to go with me this weekend," you prompted her, wondering if she knew anything. she was so closely involved in the planning, and such a good friend of Steve, surely he would keep her in the loop.

"he actually didn't tell me why. I figured he just wanted to oversee how you operated in the field," is what she told you.

yeah. yeah, that made sense.

"hopefully I impressed him," you laugh.

she gives you a look. "you did, don't worry."

oh, good. you were finally proving yourself.

and yet, you still couldn't think about that. you wanted to know what the deal was with Bucky Barnes.

~~~

you decide to quit going out of your way to avoid him. if you're finally being accepted into this team, you can't afford to give Steve any reason to not trust or like you.

more than that, you feel bad for potentially being the reason he dropped out last weekend.

you can still keep up your walls without being off-putting, you think.

the next time you see him in the elevator a few days later, he gives you the same sad, broken smile.

you force yourself to speak. "missed you this weekend," you drop casually, even though your heart is pounding.

his head snaps up to look at you, completely taken aback by the fact that you're actually speaking to him. he looks at you for a second, utterly shocked, before he finally finds the words.

"yeah, I had some stuff going on."

you know that's a fib. he doesn't really have much going on for himself, you don't think. you just nod your head and let it go.

when he gets out on a floor above your destination, you tell him, "see you later."

he turns and gives you that smile, a little more hopeful looking this time, along with a small wave of his flesh hand.

it's cute, you think.

what?

~~~

the next time he walks into the gym, you feel all the classic signs bubbling up in your body, telling you: run. fight. hide. anything.

you know better by now. he may have been a murderer once upon a time, but this version of him wouldn't hurt a fly without a complex reason why.

you tell yourself to speak to him. maybe that'll force your body to recalibrate, to settle itself whenever you're around him.

you hop off the treadmill and step up to where he's filling his water.

"spot me?"

his eyes look wide, clearly still surprised when you speak to him. "yes, absolutely."

his excitement is beyond your understanding, but god, it makes you smile.

wait.

your heart drops to your stomach.

no.

your heart pounds faster as you walk over to the bench and adjust your weights before laying back.

oh my god.

you see him standing over you, hands out in front of him near the bar.

I can't breathe.

you pick up the bar and begin your set, trying to tell yourself this is insane.

you're lucky you asked for a spot when your arms falter the second you realize,

I like him.

~~~

"woah, you okay?" he laughs when he grabs the bar before it can fall on you, dropping it back on the rack.

"yeah, fuck, sorry," you say, sitting up and getting to your feet.

you'd always heard that having a crush on someone was kind of like this: miserable, anxiety-inducing, and nothing short of terrifying.

you wouldn't know. when would you, of all people, have the chance to get into a relationship with someone? when would you have the chance to spend more time with a guy than just your one-nighters?

you knew lust. you could place it, knew what it felt like.

but love...

no. no! you don't even know him, what the hell?

"I'm fine," you say, stumbling over your own feet as you stand, and he jumps to catch you before you fall.

"sit back down, you're clearly not okay," he says, and he finally doesn't sound like a sad puppy. he sounds normal.

he sits you down and hands you his water.

"you don't have to sit here," you try to tell him after a few minutes of silence.

he just shrugs. "not worried about it."

the nerves begin to settle. the sheer panic of talking to him hasn't gone away, but the feeling is different, morphing into something tolerable. you want to run away more than anything, but at the same time, you don't.

you actually want to sit and talk to him.

and, shit, you owe him an explanation, you think.

"I probably didn't eat enough today. thank you for helping me," you say to him.

"happy to," he smiles at you.

no more sad puppy dog look.

you don't ever want to see the sad puppy dog look on his face ever again, only this.

~~~

it's no longer petrifying, just annoying, you think. that sixth sense feeling that arises whenever he's near no longer holds any meaning to you. it's not like you're going to do anything about it, and it's not like he would ever see you in the same light.

so you'd really like it if all went away, especially given how much more often you think about him now.

you smile back at him when he sees you in the elevator.

does he think my smile is ugly?

you don't walk out of the kitchen the minute he appears.

did he notice me when he came in?

he continues to spot you when you're in the gym.

do I look fat in these clothes?

this is stupid. you're a trained assassin, same as him, with a history of kills that an army would be jealous of. you're stronger than this, above these stupid feelings of caring what the hell a man thinks of you.

you don't fucking need this.

but you can't go back to the way things were before. you can't stand to see that terribly sad look on his face.

his gorgeous face.

you're better than this, more powerful than the feelings and thoughts that accompany his presence. you just need to train yourself to stop feeling like this.

mind over matter, right?

~~~

he doesn't exactly know why you suddenly decided to start talking to him. he's still operating under the assumption that you hate him with every fiber of your being.

even so, he soaks up every moment you have together. from the moment he met you, he was intrigued. such a strong woman with a past somewhat similar to his, and yet you were still so sweet to everyone around you. he hadn't been attracted to a woman in over seventy years, and even now, he didn't think that it was a good idea for him to be interested in anyone.

but you had seemed to make the decision for him, avoiding him like the plague. so he didn't ask you out like he wanted to.

worse yet, he heard the way your heart pounded whenever you were around him. he could feel the way every muscle in your body tensed up and knew your blood was rushing too fast through your veins.

it had to be because you hated him, or you were afraid of him.

he would rather it be that you hated him, but...

it was probably a mixture of both.

even now, your bodily reactions never changed, still pointing to the fact that you most likely did hate him and were still scared of him. and yet, you were going out of your way to speak to him.

he couldn't understand it. but every word you spoke to him made him feel infinitesimally better, like he even stood a chance, maybe.

hopefully.

~~~

by some miracle, your routines were already so in sync, that you began to end up in the same spaces, at the same times, all the time.

you drank coffee together. you went to the gym together.

and...

you began to stare at him. staring at his face when he was talking to someone else in the common area. staring at the rest of him in the gym when he wasn't looking.

and right now, you're really staring. you shouldn't be, but you're still doing it.

he is built like a god. not only that, but his muscles are real, not just for show.

what happens when he lifts heavier weights? do they make the metal arm bigger to match his real arm?

you ignore the way you suddenly feel warm between your legs as you watch him.

~~~

it takes him a minute to process the change in the air.

he turns to face you, and he catches you suddenly tearing your gaze away as though you've been caught staring.

you have been caught staring, he realizes.

and then-

he realizes what's different. he can smell it.

you're wet.

it's his turn to drop the weights this time, dumbbells accidentally slipping out of his fingers and falling onto the floor.

shit.

"are you okay?" you call out to him from across the room, standing on the sides of the treadmill to turn your attention towards him.

he's an idiot, he thinks.

but suddenly, it all makes sense. the way he thought you hated him, were afraid of him, because of how you reacted whenever he came near, it wasn't that. it was the exact opposite.

you liked him.

"yeah, fine," he tells you as he picks up the weights.

a plan begins to formulate in his head.

~~~

the next morning, Bucky walks into the kitchen while you're making coffee.

he knows the truth now, and he intends to pull it from you.

"morning," he says as he grabs his own mug from the cabinet, setting it on the counter next to the coffee maker. he steps away, and you turn to face him and begin to speak up while the coffee brews.

"so-" you freeze.

he deliberately makes a big show of stretching out, flexing his arms in the process. his henley shirt rides up a bit as he does, revealing a sliver of his tummy in the process, and you can see...

dear god, I can see his V-line.

"what's that?" he asks you, sarcastic. you don't even catch the mocking tone in his voice.

"what?" you question, drawing your eyes back to his face. every thought in your head disappeared the second you saw that.

"you started to say something," he says to you, hiding a smirk.

"oh, nothing," you say, quickly pouring your coffee. "see you at the gym later!" you call out to him as you run away quickly.

in your haste, you failed to add cream and sugar to your coffee. goddamnit.

~~~

for the next few days, you notice the way he wears a fitted wife-beater instead of his usual baggy t-shirt in the gym.

you really wanted to flat-out ignore the feelings you were harboring for him, but at this point, you're just doing everything in your power to not jump him whenever you see him.

strange how quickly your brain turned on you, you think, from being weary to being horny.

he's begun to show up every morning to make coffee alongside you at your usual time. you think he's just being friendly, opening up to you now that you've quit acting like such a bitch toward him. you're glad he finally sees you as an acquaintance, maybe even a friend.

you're going to ruin it all, aren't you?

but by god, he is not fucking helping.

~~~

the minute he peels off his shirt in the middle of the gym is a deliberate, calculated decision.

there's never anyone else there at your regularly scheduled gym time, lucky for him. also lucky for him, you have a tendency to stare.

he waits for the perfect moment to torment you, making sure to work up a sweat first.

and then, the second you step off the treadmill and turn to him-

he reaches for the hem of his tank, and you about choke as you watch him peel the fabric away from his beautiful body.

he can almost hear your thighs clench. go time.

after the treadmill is time for him to spot you. that's how it always goes.

"you ready?" he asks, tossing his shirt over his shoulder and pretending to ignore the way you gawk at him.

you just gulp and force yourself to nod, laying down on the bench and lifting the bar.

you manage a few reps before you hear him say,

"you know I know, right?"

you falter, but by pure luck, you keep your composure.

"what are you talking about?" you feign.

"I know everything. I can smell you."

at that point, he does have to save you from the bar falling on your face.

"what the fuck, Bucky?" you ask. "what the hell does that mean?"

he smirks and watch as you sit yourself up on the bench.

"it means I know how wet you get whenever we're in the gym together, when you think I don't notice you staring."

you're going to throw yourself off a bridge.

you sit up and begin to blubber. "I'm really, sorry, Bucky. I never meant for you to, like, find out," you say.

your mouth has gone dry, and your heart is in your stomach. you'd finally made an actual friend, no matter how much of a hard time you had with it at first, and he knew the whole time?

was he just screwing with you? was this all some sick joke?

"I was going to ask you out, you know," he admits. "but you wouldn't talk to me."

he... what?

"I'm sorry," you say, unsure where this is going. you've never been in this situation. what are you supposed to say?

“but now, you’ve decided you want to talk to me, so that begs the question… do you want me to? what would you say if I did, baby?”

your breath hitches.

you watch him step around the machine and fall to his fucking knees in front of you. bold for a man who used to walk with his tail between his legs.

“hmm, sweetheart?” he coos, and you’re done for.

“I’d say yes, Bucky,” you whisper to him, your eyes going glassy as you look at him in front of you. is this a hallucination?

his resulting bright smile turns into a smirk right before your eyes as though he’s just remembered he’s at your feet.

"you want me to help? I mean, I am the reason you've made a mess of yourself," he whispers, and fuck, you might come on the spot. it takes you longer than it should to accept the fact that this might actually be happening, that behind that shy exterior was a man capable of making every thought in your brain melt away.

"yes, Bucky, please," you say, tangling your hands in his hair immediately, finally looking him in the eyes. they're beautiful, sky blue irises piercing your gaze as though staring right into your soul.

"yeah? you been thinking about this?" he whispers as he reaches for your gym shorts, pulling them past your hips and letting them pool at your feet. his hands come to your lower back, pulling you to sit on the edge of the bench as he leans in for better access.

"I, I didn't..." you trail off, too busy watching him, considering what he told you about asking you out.

"you didn't what?" he asks, leaning to press the lower half of his face against the fabric of your underwear, soaked through already. he stares up at you, patiently waiting for your response.

"I didn't think this would happen," you admit, trying to refrain from yanking his face closer to you. "never meant for you to find out," you repeat.

"I'm glad I did," he whispers, his breath ghosting over you.

and by god, you're not ready for it when he licks his tongue up your slit, over the wet spot on your panties. you let out a horribly loud moan into the silence of the room, and try to cover your mouth with one hand.

"is it that good?" he taunts. "not even touching your skin, baby," he continues, pressing his tongue even deeper into your cunt, still covered by the thin fabric.

this other side of him, this unhinged side of him, is making you more needy and desperate than you've ever felt before.

the words fall out of your mouth before you can filter yourself, laughing, "I didn't think you had this in you," you admit.

"yeah, baby?" he says, pressing his thumb against your clit and delicately rubbing the fabric to build the friction against you.

"you were so shy," you whisper back, trying to keep control of your breathing.

"not anymore," he hisses, and then he plants his mouth on you for real this time. it's torturous the way he eats you over your panties, still able to feel the pressure and heat through the fabric, but it's not enough.

"Bucky, please, stop teasing me," you beg of him, desperate for him to give you more, something real.

"but you're whining so pretty like this, baby..." he mocks, nuzzling his nose over your clit. "like seeing you all needy, like this. don't you love it?" he taunts.

"yeah," you whimper shamelessly all while trying to yank his mouth back to press against you.

"yeah. you like letting me control your pleasure like this, don't you, babygirl?" he asks.

that’s it. you can't wait a second longer.

"fuck me, Bucky, now," you cry out into the room, trying to bring your hands to his shoulders to yank him off the floor. he's equally as impatient as you are, taking the lead as he surges up to press his lips to yours.

you finally feel like your mind is clear for the first time in forever when you feel his mouth press against yours. you savor it for a moment, just enough to realize that he likes you, too.

and then you're dragging him to the floor with you, laying on the hard surface and spreading your legs to fit him between them, exactly where he belongs.

"now, now," you beg. he's so close to you, and he feels better against you than you ever could have imagined. you let yourself go, sinking your teeth into the muscle of his neck, hopefully deep enough to leave a mark.

"fuck, I can't say no to you, pretty girl," he responds, hastily shoving his own shorts out of the way before ripping your soaked underwear to finally feel your soft skin against him.

just like the rest of his muscular body, his dick is prettier than any you've ever seen. this is going to hurt, you realize.

it'll be the best you've ever felt in your life.

"I promise, baby, I'll take you to dinner. take you to a show, I'll treat you to anything you want, just need to feel you so bad right now," you hear him say next to your ear.

"please, Bucky," you whine. you watch him get into position...

and then you feel it: the blinding feeling of him stretching you out on the rough floor of a communal gym.

he goes slow, slower than you could've anticipated, giving you time to relax around him before pressing another inch in.

"taking my cock so good, baby," he coos. "feel that? feel me inside you?" he asks as he presses his metal hand to your lower abdomen.

you can't even form a coherent word, a vile noise escaping from your throat in acknowledgement. it's so good.

"it's never felt this good before," you admit to him. "never actually cared about the guy on top of me."

he hears the attempt at humor in your voice, the way you're trying to mask the vulnerability you're feeling.

"want to be the only one who ever gets to be on top of you like this, baby," he whispers to you as he begins to pull back, slowly fucking back into you with his hand still pushing against your stomach. "you like the sound of that?"

"yeah, yes, Bucky. only you. I'm yours," you admit to him.

the last thought in your head is how all your body's warning signs are finally gone before he begins railing you into oblivion.

~~~

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sleepiexx · 10 months ago

Text

Something He’d Overheard

James Potter x fem!Reader

Note: I’ve been in the marauders fandom for over 7 years now, I think it’s high time I write a fic for it. Part of my efforts to branch out into writing for more fandoms than COD.

Summary: James finds himself head over heels when he sees you defending a first year student.

Warnings: some curse words here and there, bullying mention, overall rlly soft

Word Count: 1151

After countless fictional characters and random strangers on the street with pretty faces catching his burning ire, anyone who knew James Potter knew good and well that he was a lover. He had long believed in love at first sight, merely seeing someone eye-catching often sparked thoughts of budding romance, fantasies of how they would love and what their relationship would look like amongst other things. Soulmates and fate were a big concept to him too, for example his favorite book character, a headstrong witch who was kind and brilliant, well James had a hunch that in another life they were lovers.

He’d fallen in love just about a million times, and yet something about you was different.

You had caught James’ eye one day as he made the trek to the library to collect his good friend Remus for their group’s usual night’s worth of mischief. Your beautiful eyebrows were pinched together in anger, a sneer on your pretty lips, your voice was loud and firm as you scolded one of the usual culprits (a death eater in the making) for bullying a defenseless first year student.

Your hand clutched your wand intently as you damn near hissed the words, “you wanna try picking on someone who can actually fight back?”

They let out a scoff and left the scene, leaving you, the first year, and unbeknownst to you, James.

The switch between standoffishness and caring came like whiplash. Your tensed frame relaxed as you knelt down in front of the first year (those eleven year olds seemed to be growing shorter and shorter every year). Your dominant hand reached out and gently wiped away the younger child’s tears.

“Everything he said is bullshit,” you began, “he’s angry at the world, looking for someplace to fit in, and unfortunately it’s really easy to fall into the wrong crowd. You haven’t, and he’s jealous of that.”

The kid sniffled, pout still indented firmly on their little lips, “who would be jealous of me?”

You shook your head in disbelief, “plenty of people! You have a gift that a large part of the world’s population doesn’t possess, that’s something to be proud of no matter what other witches and wizards try to tell you. Heck, I’m even jealous of you.”

As you spoke a smile crept its way on the first year’s face, “you are?” They asked.

“Yeah, I am!” You nodded, “you’ve got six and a half more years left at Hogwarts to have fun and run about the castle, I only have another year and a half.”

“This place is pretty cool,” they muttered.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Your face lit up and you stood to your feet, offering the small child your hand so you could walk them back to their common room. You’d never seen the awe-stricken onlooker, but the scene was now burned into James’ mind.

It followed him to the library, where he convinced Remus to follow him to their other friends, a long walk that Remus spent listening to James drone on and on about you. It followed him to his dorm that night, and every other night for weeks leaving the marauders to know every single detail about you. And it most especially followed him to each of the classes you had together where James would stare at you and admire your appearance while daydreaming about you.

It was the third time that week that the scene had followed him to the lunch table when Sirius slammed his palms on the table, “I’m putting an end to this nonsense right now. You either talk to her, Prongs, or I will. And trust me, you won’t like how in depth I will go about those daydreams you’ve been having where-“

Sirius couldn’t even finish his sentence with how fast James jumped in, “alright, alright! I have potions with her next, I’ll talk to her, I swear.”

The statement leaves the marauders satiated in conversation as they finish up their lunch and head to their classes.

In potions, James nearly decides to abandon ship, facing a new anxiety he’d never experienced before when dealing with a girl. He decides that maybe it would be best to keep to himself, too afraid to stumble on his words and make a fool of himself in front of such a pretty girl. All this is until Professor Slughorn proclaims that today’s assignment requires a partner. If there ever was a time to shoot his shot, it’s now.

He takes deep breaths, adjusting his posture and forcing his every step to radiate confidence before he reaches you, “I was wondering if maybe you’d like to be my partner?”

You smile, “I’d love to! Fair warning, though, I’m not the best at potions.”

James bursts out into a giddy grin, “I’m willing to pick up the slack.”

“Unfortunately, I bet I’ll make you eat your words,” nonetheless you collect the ingredients as James collects the supplies.

When everything is together, James reads off the instructions. You follow them with great care, not wanting to make a fool of yourself in front of your new, devilishly handsome potions partner.

You make to slice open one of the ingredients, as the instructions called for, but your knife slips, sending the damned thing hurdling straight towards your face. You close your eyes, bracing yourself for an impact that never comes, reopening them only to be met with the sight of the back of James’ hand.

“Holy shit,” you curse, “did you just catch that?”

James nods, almost surprised at himself.

You shake your head in disbelief, “if you weren’t such a good chaser, I’d suggest you take up seeking.”

Your statement renews James’ confidence, so you’d noticed him too?

“Can I show you how to cut it?” He asks, a smile on his face.

You nod, watching his hands intently, confused when he disappears behind you. You quickly piece together what’s happening when he grabs your hands with his own, handing you the knife and positioning you so that you slice through the ingredient like it’s nothing.

“Great job!” James praises, even though it was him that had done all the work.

You still take the compliment, grinning from ear to ear as he tosses the final ingredient into the potion, creating the rich purple color you were striving for, “we make a really good team, Potter.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks, “well what do you say we see if we make as good of a couple?” You feel blood rush to your cheeks, James further clarifies “Hogsmeade this weekend? Just you and me?”

And you nod eagerly, “I would love that.”

If Sirius thought James asking you out would be the solution to him raving on and on about you all hours of the day, he was sorely mistaken and he was about to figure that out as soon as James stepped into the common room.

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter #the marauders #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #james potter fic #james potter fanfiction #james potter fluff #marauders x reader

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phoenixyfriend · 1 month ago

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Fancy Tuna

Read on AO3

Once upon a time, Captain Rex was infected in the field, and then invited to share a hospital room with the Jedi padawan and Nabooan Senator he was protecting. Really, Padme just wanted to say thanks.

Yes this fic was inspired half by the "fancy tuna bribe" from Ouran. I use the ohshc gif when describing Rexidala a LOT. There was never any other option for the fic title.

I've been meaning to write this for ages. I've been talking about it for so long that some of my friends were surprised I hadn't written and posted it ages ago, just because I talk about it so much as a concept/background to my other fics that to them, it felt like the fic must already exist.

Anyway, have the Rexidala background that I imagine taking place in most if not all of my fics where they happen to be a ship.

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

When Rex is eleven-slash-twenty-two, he is introduced to Nabooan seafood.

Rex is used to seafood. It was one of the favored protein sources on Kamino. Admittedly, they were fairly different from those on Naboo, but there’s something about convergent evolution and uh… bauplans? That.

Oceanic planets tend to develop fish-shaped life because that’s just the most convenient way to move through water, or something.

So yeah. Seafood. Rex is used to it. High in protein, some healthy fats, beware of tiny bones if it’s not in cube form. It was one of the more common items of fresh food that they got back in Tipoca City. Not often, certainly not enough to grow tired of it, but not Rex’s personal favorite, either. He’d preferred the algae-and-urchins dishes, which… okay, technically they were also seafood, but they weren’t fish.

And then he’d come to Naboo.

It’s not Rex’s favorite experience, overall. He’d nearly died. The kid nearly died, the Senator nearly died, several brothers did die. The Blue Shadow virus was a nasty bitch.

Naboo has them recuperate locally, after. A thank you and an apology, they’re told. Also less risk of taking any lingering disease off-planet by getting on the Resolute, for all that it’s easier to quarantine on a ship of several thousand than on a planet of millions.

“You can room with me,” Senator Amidala tells him. “You and Ahsoka. That way, Anakin doesn’t have to dither about which of us he should visit first.”

Rex doesn’t know how to respond to that idea, that General Skywalker would want to see him as much as the kid or the senator, or that Senator Amidala calls them Anakin and Ahsoka, so familiar, or that she just… doesn’t mind sharing a room with him.

She’s from an old, wealthy family, he knows that much. They’ve even been invited to spend a few nights at a ‘summer home,’ which he understands is something for only the wealthiest of natborns. She’s former royalty, also, and still in politics besides. She is at the absolute highest echelons of society.

And she wants to share a room with a clone. A captain, sure, but a clone. Legally, Rex isn’t even a person. At least the kid is a Jedi.

“Captain?”

She looks worried. He should say something. “I’m flattered, Senator. Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” she says.

Later, Rex will want to say that her eyes shone, or that her cheeks dimpled, but that would be a lie. They are both tired, nearly dead, and even the most beautiful woman he’s ever met looks grey and wan.

“Cool,” Ahsoka chimes in. “This is going to be fun!”

(Continue on AO3)

#star wars #the clone wars #rexidala #captain rex #padme amidala #ahsoka tano #anakin skywalker #seafood #phoenix files #fancy tuna

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ckret2 · 10 months ago

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(I said earlier I had a fic excerpt about DEATH LAWYER AXOLOTL, here it is.)

The god hopefully turned to the time giant—

She shook her head, expression flat. "Nope. I'm a civil engineer, not a hostage negotiator."

—and then turned to the Axolotl. "You. You know how to talk to mortals like this triangle that's taken over Dimension Zero, don't you? Isn't he like the omnicidal monsters you represent every day?"

The Axolotl looked nervously at the wormhole into Dimension Zero. He could see blue fire and hear wails of pain on the other side. "Ah," he said.

####

Biologically there was really no such thing as a god, in the same way that botanically there is really no such thing as a vegetable. Tomatoes are fruits; spinach is a leaf; carrots are roots; broccoli is an unfinished flower. The word "vegetable" just indicates the cultural role a plant performs in the kitchen.

The word "god" indicated the cultural role an entity performed in cosmology: a god was anything that exerted enough power that mortals felt driven to worship it.

Different beings so honored with the title "god" handled it in different ways. For the Axolotl's part, he thought it was a useful designation to help with networking, but mostly it was a pain that meant he was put up on a pedestal for doing his job.

The Axolotl was a god of justice. Not the god of justice, but one. He held dominion over an abstract concept; over millions and billions of years, his words and decisions slowly, inexorably altered the idea of "justice" on a multiversal scale. Mercy, retribution, punishment, rehabilitation, equity, equality, fairness, and righteousness were like multicolored clays he could twist, squish, sculpt, and blend at his leisure, permanently altering what those ideas meant to the mortals they affected.

Which was to say: he was a lawyer.

He was also known as a god of rebirth. Which was to say: he specialized in afterlife law. Before going into law he'd only been a psychopomp, but after having to escort too many despairing souls to afterlives he felt were too severe for their sins, he'd decided he wanted a say in where he took his souls. Now he helped clients get their charges reduced so they were eligible for a higher-tier reincarnation, or got their purgatorial sentences reduced, or—on rare occasions—even helped them avoid damnation. (Although he didn't take many damnation cases. He didn't always win—and those ones were too depressing to lose.)

And lately, he'd been developing a reputation.

For the past few centuries, he'd been working on a damnation case. He was defending a supervillain who'd built a weapon that could slice open the fabric of spacetime—a crime against reality—and bisect planets in its wake. He'd died inside the jurisdiction of an afterlife that had legalized eternal damnation. Case law had long since established that the dead had to be sent either to the afterlife system of their native jurisdiction or an alternate afterlife system of their choice in order to be judged, provided that the proper afterlife accepted their transfer request.

But if this villain had been extradited to his home world, the heaviest sentence he could have faced was a thousand years purgatory, with an option for early reincarnation for good behavior after a hundred years. So the jurisdiction he'd died in had summoned up some bureaucratic red tape to dismiss his native afterlife's extradition request, and he'd been sentenced where he'd died. They'd wanted to establish via case law that the dead who had committed crimes against reality could be damned in whichever jurisdiction they happened to die in, and hoped they could get away with it just for lack of anyone protesting the move. After all, everyone involved much preferred that a mortal wicked enough to obliterate multiple populated planets and trillions of lives receive eternal punishment.

Everyone involved except the Axolotl.

Taking this case hadn't made him many friends. He didn't care; he had his principles. Let an interplanetary supervillain be dragged away to a foreign afterlife just so that he can be forced into damnation, and next it'll be a planetary dictator; let a dictator be dragged away, and next it'll be a murderer; and next it'll be a burglar; and next it'll be a jaywalker that a psychopomp has a personal grudge against. If the Axolotl could establish that even the most undeserving mortal imaginable, a criminal against reality, still deserved the right to be sentenced in the afterlife of his choice, then he could establish that everyone less evil deserved the same right.

If he had anything to say about it, in two or three trillion years he'd see eternal punishment outlawed completely; but untilthen, he was not going to sit idly by and let this flagrant abuse of interdimensional law become the new meaning of justice! He would get that supervillain out of eternal damnation, personally escort him to his native afterlife, and see him reincarnated on his own home world—and mark his words, he would rain so much bureaucratic hell on the judges and psychopomps that had let this abuse of justice take place that no god would dare keep a soul from its rightful afterlife ever again, or he wasn't the Axolotl!

All of which was to say:

Yes, unfortunately. This triangle was like the omnicidal monsters he represented every day.

And so he was appointed hostage negotiator.

####

(And that's why a trillion years later he's the guy helping Bill submit an insanity plea so that he can go to Theraprism rather than get the permadeath penalty.)

#(I wrote this months before TBOB came out.)#(You don't know how delighted I was when I got to the theraprism and went 'I CAN TOTALLY USE THIS TO SUPPORT MY LAYWER AXOLOTL HEADCANON')#gravity falls axolotl #gravity falls #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher #(I may be bullshitting the legal talk but by god i am bullshitting as hard as I can)

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lets-try-some-writing · 9 months ago

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I have observed several types of fic writers, and so for kicks and giggles, here they all are. Each of them scares me for different reasons.

The Prepared And Ready To Publish™:

Several documents dedicated to worldbuilding, planning, cross referencing, character lists & traits, plot twists, and then the actual fic document.

Dedicated to the max to creating a rich world. Probably knows more about the niche thing than you ever will. 100% could have written a thesis and chose to do fic instead (or did both at the same time).

Created a masterpiece and promptly vanished off the face of creation before coming back in with another banger to crush souls and save fandoms.

Their arrival is akin to the birth of a new era because they never fail to somehow make a niche ship popular, make a headcanon fanon, or otherwise give so much depth and interest to a character or setting that whatever they have devised is largely accepted as gospel by their readers.

They either use a high end writing program or wordpad. There is no in-between.

Mysterious. Very mysterious. Reasons for this mysteriousness vary between fics and authors.

100000/10 would be friends with them if I could. Legendary writers. But also they scare me because ??? What void offered you such power ?????

The Baby Writer:

All vibes and loosely strung plots.

It may not make the most sense, but good gracious the dedication is there.

Notable lack of comprehension when it comes to characters and places, but it's bad form to not leave a kudo because it takes guts to post anything in fandom.

They are still figuring things out and their grammar or formatting (possibly both) is probably a mess, but they've put heart into their work.

Sweetest rays of sunshine who want to be involved and are eager to learn the ropes.

The fandom's young ward or despised new arrival (depends entirely on fandom popularity and age).

8/10 would happily offer advice to them. Just can't read their work for too long without wanting to throw it into grammarly. The fear factor comes in the form of the miraculous misuse of fandom terminology. (Yeah it's tough bud, the fanon is wild. But goodness that term/canon word does NOT mean what you think it does.)

The Smut For Your Soul:

Meticulously plans the smut with all the loving care of a sculptor.

Somehow plot got involved.

Miraculously, they managed to not include an iota of plot and it has somehow managed to work.

Headcanons abound and cuteness and or angst lurks merrily behind every corner.

The tags mean everything and nothing at the same time. They are but faint guides to the fae wilds ahead. Tread lightly.

Has a mountain of unfinished WIPs that will follow them to the grave or emerge ten years after conception to grace whatever fandom spawned the idea.

The fandom thanks them for their service, although often that praise is late or hits like a freight train.

???/10 I personally avoid smut but I have friends who write it so it really depends. Terrifying because you never know who falls into this role of writer. It could be anyone. Normalcy is a mask poorly adorned for the sake of conforming to The Great Machine.

The Angst Lord:

Has a million slightly different ways to hurt their blorbo. Each are somehow more horrifying than the next.

The embodiment of the iceburg videos seen all over the net. Ask one question and you shall unravel and scheme of torment so great you shall regret having dared to speak up.

Has dozens of WIPs or unwritten ideas that they claim they will return to.

They are controlled by passion and emotion and can and will insert their own complicated situation into a fic.

Almost nothing is off limits.

Arrives to the fandom ready to brawl and somehow ends up respected or feared. They often stare in bafflement as they end up unscathed and watch angry comments fly toward the arguably innocent shippers.

Generally some of the nicest people who happen to enjoy inflicting The Horrors upon someone fictional.

'10/10 would befriend and promptly regard like a wild racoon. Offerings of angsty ideas yield delightful commentary. But also I need to prepare myself for anything they say because O U C H my SOUL.

The General Writer:

Fluff, cuteness, possibly a delightful touch of angst and pure unbridled creative simplicity.

They may not have the most brutal or soul wrenching tale, but they always manage to write something that someone, somewhere, desperately needs.

Devastatingly underrated and deserves far more praise for their contributions to the fandom.

Produces some of the softest of scenes and the most touching of interactions between characters in a contained, careful crafted, tale.

Introducing new ships or family dynamics in such a tasteful manner that brain chemistry can easily be altered.

Arrives to the fandom as a lurker and shows their appreciation through their work. Oftentimes, they are very quiet and go unnoticed.

INFINITE/10 Love these writers, honestly a gift to fandom. The sheer level of dedication to producing fluff is astounding and scary all at once.

The OC X Canon:

Has so many ships and headcanons that it's astounding.

The lore development rivals IDW and Lost Light combined. All the kudos to them for putting their souls into their characters.

The dedication is mind boggling.

They put up with so much crap they could be in MMA Wrestling if the verbal assaults translated into physical strength.

Has so many adjustments to lore and whole AUs devoted specifically to creating a perfect world.

Skilled in the extreme (or not) at integrating their ocs into canon.

Arrives to the fandom not intending to make ocs. Leaves with seventeen leashes for their new abominable creations. Is loved or hated by literally everyone, sometimes for no reason.

6/10 perfectly lovely people but very niche in their interest and thus not everyone's cup of tea. Scary because that level of sheer willpower is meant for demi-gods.

There are more types of writers, but these feel like the big overarching ones. Which kind of writer are you? :D

#fic writer #fanfic writing #types of writers #fanfic stuff #lets try some writing mumbles

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seren1tyhaze · 1 year ago

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poison in my mind

PAIRING: idol!jisung x afab older stylist reader

WORD COUNT: 5.8k

SUMMARY: he has been your poison for years - Jisung with his innocent looking face, steely gaze, and wicked tongue. you do your best to keep a professional relationship with him during your work as a stylist for NCT Dream but his calls of "Noona" on set continue to test your patience.

AUTHOR NOTE: A VERY belated happy birthday to Andy Park and a big thank you to SM for letting us have that Poison live performance at the end of the year. This has been half written ever since the Poison track video behind vlog went up a million years ago but fueled even more by the dance intro at MMA. His more recent lives may have also served as inspiration. I hope you all enjoy this very self indulgent fic made especially for all my friends who also love Jisung <3

WARNINGS: explicit smut, idolverse, pet names (including Noona kink I'm so sorry)

PLAYLIST: Poison by NCT Dream, Quiet Down by NCT Dream, OK! by NCT U

dreaming 'bout you, dreaming 'bout you

~~ The set is buzzing with nervous energy in the dimly lit space, dark blue light cascading over the stage area dressed with large floral arrangements that almost make it look like the ocean floor. Renjun is talking to the camera filming their behind vlog footage and you look up from the shirt you are steaming when you hear his voice.

“Dream will try for the sexy vibe for the first time,” with a sly smirk.

You can’t help but chuckle as the makeup artist next to you elbows your side and you tut at her, waving the steamer to quiet her. It wasn’t a secret that the Poison track video was going to be beloved by fans because of the concept and the way the members were styled. You had been tasked with pulling some of the key looks for the video, taking an opportunity to incorporate different textures like the metal grommets and fringe on the leather jacket Renjun currently was wearing. You watch proudly as he stretches his arms over his head in the center of the flowers, torso muscles rippling under the sheer mesh shirt.

You hadn’t been on staff for very long, a couple years of working under the main stylist under your belt. They had been hesitant to give you bigger opportunities due to your young age and lack of experience, but your boss saw that you had a great eye. It didn’t hurt that you were always the first one to volunteer for less than desirable tasks and always arrived early to shoots and stayed late.

“Sorry, this one’s a little too small, did you have others?” comes a voice behind you and you turn to see Mark, holding out one of the large metal rings you had laid out for him in his dressing room.

“Oh sorry, yes, of course,” you reply, smiling softly at him before kneeling down to dig in your bag for the small pouch holding the extra accessories. He was always so polite to the staff, greeting everyone and even when he was clearly exhausted, doing as many takes as the director needed.

“This one might work better and it’s adjustable,” you reply, taking his hand and sliding the ring on his pointer finger. You squeeze his hand gently before he inspects the rings, holding it out in front of him.

“Noona,” comes a harsh and low voice suddenly, causing you to move your head to the side of Mark’s leather clad legs to see an annoyed looking Jisung with crossed arms, shirtless and barefoot.

“Jisung, where is your shirt?” Mark replies, half laughing as he turns to face him, scratching at the back of his neck.

Ignoring him, Jisung returns his gaze to you and glares at your crouched position on the floor in front of Mark. A curious Renjun walks up at this moment, peeling a tangerine and flicking narrowed eyes between the three of you. Mark shrugs at him before walking away, answering a message on his phone.

“You tailored the crotch of these pants wrong, it feels weird,” Jisung continues, voice even and tinged with frustration.

Your face flushes at this, dropping the pouch back in your bag and grabbing your pins, suddenly on your feet and in front of Jisung.

“How do you know it’s wrong?” you ask, knitting your brows together as you look up at him.

He looks good and you know he knows it. Something has shifted in Jisung in the past year - especially since they returned from tour. He carries himself differently, with a different level of confidence and wears it well. Today is no different and the fact that he just barged onto set without a shirt on is evidence. His dark blue hair is styled perfectly, long strands dangling in his eyes and contrasting beautifully with his sharp jawline.

“Here, feel,” he tells you simply, pulling your hand to his crotch and you almost let yourself palm him through the tight denim until you snap back to reality and pull your arm back. His eyes hold no emotion, dark and still, long eyelashes blinking at you temptingly. His lips are soft and plump and you want nothing more than to close the distance between the two of you and taste the glossy lip mask.

And there it is, your poison, Park Jisung. When you had graduated early from your program a few years ago, you had been focused on your career and hadn’t spent much time dating. You had some people you went out on dates with every once and a while and had your fair share of waking up in a stranger’s bed after a long night out. But Jisung had caught you by surprise. Something about the way he was so forward and aggressive with you made your brain turn to mush around him. Your heartbeat would quicken, palms sweat, and filthy thoughts would swirl in your mind until you could indulge in them with your hand pressed between your thighs later that night.

A heavy sigh comes from Renjun, accompanied by a shake of his head, as he walks out a nearby door muttering something about not wanting to see Jisung’s dick.

You flush violently, grabbing at Jisung’s bicep harshly and pulling him to his dressing room, leaving the door propped open intentionally as you take the layered black tank off the hanger and hold it out to him.

“Please put the rest of your outfit on, I think they are going to be ready for you soon,” you sigh as soon as you’re alone, reaching for the box that holds the platform boots you were reusing from a shoot with Haechan a couple months prior.

You both move silently as he pulls the shirt over his head, staring at the long leather cords before lifting his head back up to you. You move behind him, reaching over his broad shoulders to pull the leather cords around his neck and then letting the ends dangle in front of his toned chest. You try to avoid brushing your hands against his bare shoulders as he steps into the boots and ignore that his ass brushes against your stomach when he bends down slightly to zip them up.

“I just don’t know about these pants, are they the right length?” he asks, tugging at the material at his thighs. His tone is whining and defiant, lighter than how he was in front of everyone, but still slightly combative. He knows you’re weak for this very tone, as he can usually get you to do whatever he wants if he just adds it into whatever he says.

You sigh and move around him, dropping to your knees at his feet, slapping his hand away from pulling at the fabric. You pull the pants leg out of his left boot, pulling lightly and examining the hemline. You’re about to correct him when you suddenly feel his hand soft on your hair.

“You look so good from this angle,” he murmurs, voice low and sultry, causing you to jerk your head up and look at him from the floor.

Your lower lip is instantly caught in your teeth, sinking into the flesh deeply as you try to control your breathing, unable to stop yourself from blinking up at him. You feel drawn into his dark eyes and his hand in your hair is almost overwhelming.

He lets out a groan, tightening his fingertips on your scalp, exhaling audibly and clenching his other hand into a fist at his side.

“What am I going to do with you,” he tuts, dropping his hand to your chin and gripping it gently.

You rise from your knees, glancing at the open door just as Jaemin bounces by, screaming at something Haechan is doing. Suddenly aware of where you are, you step forward, adjusting the cords aimlessly.

“What happened to my sweet, innocent Jisung?” you whisper, staring at the soft skin of his collarbone and wishing you could press your lips against it forever.

“Don’t act surprised. You created this monster, Noona, dressing me in all these sexy outfits. How could you think I would stay your bright eyed baby Sungie forever?” he asks back, tucking loose strands of your hair behind your ear. His words are biting, even if they do hold some truth.

Memories of him dozing off on your shoulder during long bus rides and hastily helping him into heavy jackets and necklaces during quick changes on tour come flooding in, mixed with the heavy, lustful stares you feel on you when you wear a low cut shirt or on hot summer days in Thailand when you wore thin athletic shorts in the airport.

He had kissed your lips gently a year ago after many bottles of soju and when the rest of the members were preoccupied by endless rounds of karaoke. You had stopped him then, told him that as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t. Ever since that moment, he had made every effort to get you alone when he could, using every excuse under the sun, today’s outburst nothing new. You still remember how soft his lips felt on yours and the fire under your arm as he held you close after you rejected him.

Back on set, you’re packing up your bag again when you’re called over to check something on the computer from Jeno’s scenes. You give your feedback and suddenly your eyes are drawn up to where Jisung is filming, camera close to his face, light illuminating his beautiful features perfectly.

“Dreaming ‘bout you, dreaming ‘bout you,” echoes across the large soundstage and your heart is pounding in your chest as he plays with the cords at his neck, just as you had earlier, chests pressed up against each other in the dressing room. He makes eye contact with you briefly when the take ends and you look away quickly, embarrassed.

While you had been released to go for the day, you take your time packing the rest of your stuff, helping the makeup artists clean their station and even rearranging some chairs that barely needed adjustment. You watch the way he moves confidently, take after take, adjusting the jacket so his shoulders show boldly against the dark material. His fingers brush through the cords, pulling them up to his teeth at times before dropping them, leaving plump lips open before cracking a large smile at the reaction of the staff. In between takes he shakes his dark hair, casting his gaze down to the floor until someone asks him a question. You watch as he smiles and winks at the makeup artist powdering his cheek and you feel nervous energy stir in your stomach. You can’t bear to watch much more, so you slip out when he isn’t looking in your direction.

When you finally are home, feet pushed into fluffy slippers and sipping on steaming green tea you had just prepared, you peel the sheet mask off and rub the remaining serum into your cheeks and forehead. You are flipping through a magazine your coworker had given you on set, paying attention to the tabbed pages they had flagged for inspiration when your phone buzzes on the table next to you. A message from the head stylist fills your screen as you tap into it.

Jisung left his street shoes at set, did you take them home? He said he “needs them” for tomorrow.

You sigh and go to the shoebox by your door to find his Nike sneakers tucked neatly, laces wrapped nicely. You quickly reply to your boss, saying you don’t mind bringing them to the dorm since you know the managers had a late night meeting tonight. Running a brush through your hair, you dot some perfume on your wrists and behind your ear before grabbing your keys.

You fiddle with the edge of your oversized sweater in the elevator as you climb the floors to his dorm, feeling a nervous pit grow in your stomach. Finally outside, you knock quickly before dropping it down to hold the box with both hands.

The door swings open and Jisung is standing tall in front of you, grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, hair damp. A dark zip-up hoodie covers his chest and it’s unzipped just enough that you can tell he isn’t wearing a shirt underneath. You can’t help but let your mind wander back to shirtless Jisung pulling your hand to his crotch earlier and wonder if he was just lounging in his room in the sweatpants. Or worse, just his boxers.

“Hi baby,” he slurs out, lips curving up at the edge into a mischievous smile as he props his arm up on the door, leaning down as if he might kiss you. His sweatshirt hikes up on his waist when he does this, revealing a large swath of skin.

You shove the box at him, pushing him back into the room with it, letting it drop into his hands. You fling your bag on the table near the door and step out of your shoes.

“Don’t hi baby me, Park Jisung. I know you left these there so you could see me tonight. Did it really take you multiple hours to realize you weren’t wearing the shoes you came in?” you reply with a huff, picking up a sealed water bottle on the kitchen counter and taking a long sip.

Sweat is pricking at your hairline and you are starting to regret not texting one of the assistant managers or drivers to come get the shoes instead.

Jisung chuckles and sets the shoebox on a chair, reaching out to take the water bottle from you and gulping down the rest.

“Don’t be mad, baby,” he replies, leaving heavy emphasis on the pet name, stepping closer to you and wrapping strong arms around your waist, thumbs instantly finding the hem of your sweater and travelling across your lower back.

You can’t help how your body reacts to his touch, feeling your chest meet his, nipples hardening under the knit fabric now tugged down and exposing your cleavage. Your breath catches in your throat as you try to speak, looking up at him through your eyelashes for the second time today.

“Come on, I’m catching up on our show,” he says softly, lips grazing across your cheek gently. You had been watching the same show for the past few months, texting each other during episodes here and there, and chatting about it whenever you saw each other. He had complained none of the other members would watch it with him and while you would never let him know this, you had lied and said you were also planning to watch it.

Against your better judgement, you let him guide you to his small room, where his large tv is paused on the latest episode of the space docuseries.

“Oh, I haven’t watched this one yet,” you admit, dropping down to sit at the edge of his bed.

He clicks to restart the episode and unzips the sweatshirt, moving to remove it and reveal his bare chest.

“Jisung,” you say sternly and he chuckles, zipping it back up halfway, and plopping down on the bed next to you. He pulls the hood up over his dark hair for good measure before propping himself up against the pillows he has leaned against the wall. You settle back, leaving some space between the two of you and pulling a hamster plushie into your lap to nervously fiddle with.

While your eyes had started to get heavy back at your apartment, you are now wired, your body coursing with electricity and hypersensitive to every movement from the man next to you. He reaches for his phone occasionally, letting out light chuckles at messages from Chenle and even daring to post a couple Bubble messages. You thank whatever higher power exists that your phone was still tucked in your bag at the door, so he didn’t see yours light up when he sent the message. It was a drunken guilty pleasure you had indulged in and ever since receiving the first message tailored with your name, you couldn’t stop yourself from renewing the subscription.

His legs keep brushing against yours when he readjusts his position on the bed and somehow has gotten so close that his shoulder is now brushing against yours. You try to shift away, but he only closes the distance again when you do so. Your heart is pounding in your chest and you’re having a difficult time focusing on the show.

Suddenly the screen is filled with bright colors as they depict beautiful graphics of what scientists imagine the birth of a star looks like and a gasp falls from your lips as you lean forward, eyes flickering across the screen to take in the beautiful scene.

“You’re so pretty when you nerd out over this stuff,” comes his low voice, suddenly close to your ear, hand resting in the middle of your back.

You lean back in reaction, trapping his arm between you and the pillow, turning slightly to face him.

“Coming from NASA’s number one stan, please,” you reply lightly, shoving the plushie at him playfully. You let a chuckle fall from your lips and shake your head lightly, causing your hair to cascade over your shoulders.

He grabs at it and throws it off the edge of the bed, hands suddenly tight on your hips and pulling you into his lap, possessively gripping your ass as you straddle his legs.

Your lips drop open in surprise, both of you breathing heavy at the sudden movement. You feel your responsible self tapping your shoulder but finally decide to let the years of desire bubble to the surface and propel your lips to close the gap with his.

You move your lips across his gently, resisting the urge to push your tongue out immediately or bite down on his lower lip. He tightens his grip on you in response, pushing his crotch up to meet yours. You swear you can feel him through his pants which only makes you want him more.

He pulls away, taking your cheek in his other hand and looking between your eyes as if searching for some sort of silent answer to a silent question. You can almost see his own voice of reason forcing him to pause, if only for a moment.

“You ready to deal with the consequences of that monster you created, Noona?” he asks in a devastatingly low tone before moving his lips down to mouth at your chest, pushing the knit fabric to the side to bite at your shoulder.

A sigh falls from your lips as you let your head roll back, entire body on fire as he marks the skin at your neck, teeth sharp on your skin. You can’t help as your hands slide over the zipper of his hoodie and unzip it slowly, pushing the fabric down his shoulders to expose his toned chest. Running your hands over his hard muscles, you dig your fingernails gently, eliciting a deep groan from Jisung.

“Babyyy,” he sighs out, sliding his hand up to your throat and applying pressure there, pulling you forward to meet your lips again. The kiss is more urgent this time, tongue pressing deep into your mouth and hand gripping you tighter as he continues.

You let your hands slide down his torso, running over his abs and sliding them to his back to pull yourself closer to him. Before you can pull yourself fully flush against his chest, you are being flipped over, head falling back into the pillowy surface.

“Are you sure about this,” you ask, voice wavering despite every intention you had to form a confident question. Your eyes are flicking between his dark ones, as they had many times before, but suddenly holding so much more meaning in this intimate space.

“Are you not?” he asks back, head cocking lightly to the side, thumbs never stopping the circles they are rubbing into your hip bones.

“That’s not an answer,” you quip back, grabbing onto his hands to force him to focus. Unfortunately for you, it did the exact opposite.

You pull your eyes away from his, looking at your hands now pressed up against each other against the comforter. Your hand looks tiny next to his, his fingers could almost wrap fully around the tops of yours and that makes your mind fuzzy. You pulse your fingers, stretching them along his, feeling the length of them and how hot they are to the touch.

“Noona,” he calls, not as harsh and biting as on set, but still drawing you back to reality quickly.

His voice finally softens as he sees your watery blinking eyes, overstimulation creeping up on you before you’ve done much more than make out. He drops his thumb down the side of your face, caressing the space between your ear lobe and jaw tenderly. You want to look away, you want to push up and capture his lips in yours, you want to pull that stupid hamster plushie over your face and hide your burning cheeks.

“You know, I want it, I like,” he states, as if that is a full sentence other than in the context of the song they were filming with all day. His lips turn up in a small, shy smile at the end, showing a glimpse of that quiet boy you’ve always known and your heart settles a little in your chest. You nod rapidly a few times, sinking your nails into the palm of his hand and letting your eyes flutter shut.

His lips are on yours again quickly and that wicked hand that was just caressing your skin is now tightening around your neck again, which forces you up into an arch on the bed, pressing your lower body against his hardening cock. His tongue feels hot and wet in your mouth and you can’t help the moans that are escaping every time you have to pull back for air.

He sits up, straddling either side of your legs, tugging at your shirt and you manage to sit halfway up on your elbows, almost tearing the delicate fabric of your sweater as you rip it off, fumbling with the clasp of your bra as Jisung’s mouth is suddenly latched onto your neck, dropping heated kisses down your collarbone.

He sees you struggling and simply presses a strong thumb to the clasp, letting the cotton fabric slide off your arms and he tosses it clear across the room. This draws your attention to the door, which you realize now is cracked and you pray to every higher power that Renjun isn’t home.

“Hey, eyes on me,” comes the low voice above you again and you’re drawn back in, tuning out the distractions around you. He seems more amused than annoyed, which you have to appreciate given how long you’ve both waited for this exact moment.

Jisung makes quick work of removing his pants and boxers, reaching for a condom from his nightstand as you push down your own sweats, pausing at the thin band of your underwear. He sees you, dropping the foil packet to the bed and dips his head down, teeth dragging the elastic quickly, causing you to jump and let out a giggle.

“SUNG!” you yell weakly, trying to push his dark blue locks away as he continues to drag the dampened fabric down your legs.

He somehow manages to do it pretty easily, without getting too caught up on your knees or thighs, only struggling once he’s at your ankles and ripping them off with his hand, letting them drop to the floor with your bra.

He simply shrugs at you, a smile tugging at his mouth as he smooths those huge hands over your thighs, kneading the flesh there, eyes transfixed on your naked body. Your whole body is on fire and you silently beg for him to get on with it, even as it looks like he is about to swallow you whole.

A creeping monster your in your brain tells you you should feel more self conscious with him seeing you like this, despite both being equally exposed, realizing how many times you’ve seen him half clothed or even less. His tongue darts out to lick his lips as he reaches up, covering your breast easily with his hand, thumb teasing your nipple absently. Your breath hitches in your throat and you can’t help but hold your breath as pleasure begins to flood through your body.

You beg your own gaze not to lower, not ready to see the size of him fully hard. You’ve unfortunately seen almost all the members’ dicks but usually in quick, embarrassed, accidental glimpses. Well, except for that one time Jaemin was literally helicopter swinging it around in the dressing room when you walked in with a tray of iced americanos. Both him and Jeno couldn’t speak to you for two weeks while Chenle continued to bring it up every chance he could, even mimicking the motion during sound check at their next stop.

You are startled at the sound of him tearing the condom wrapper, rolling it quickly on and leaning back down, face inches from yours as he cups the side of your face again. You instinctively nuzzle lightly into his hand at the contact, letting your eyes flutter shut as you draw your lips to his hand, smelling faintly of the lube from the condom. You kiss in between his thumb and forefinger lightly and before you know it, he’s slipping his thumb in between your spit covered lips, pad of his finger gently pressing against your tongue.

You gasp but drag your eyes lazily to meet his, knowing your own hunger is visible now not only in your gaze but also in the eager sucking of your lips.

He groans, taking the chance to push into you and you swear you see stars. Your eyes widen but pull his thumb further into your mouth, teeth grazing across the tip of his finger erratically as your hips buck up to pull him impossibly close.

Jisung’s eyes are fluttering shut, thumb dropping from your lips, now flushed red with teeth marks and slick with spit, sliding down to clutch your throat once again. Your own hand flies to your chest, groping at yourself, desperate for something to hold onto as he picks up the pace of his thrusts.

He’s quiet, but with deep and passionate groans tumbling from his lips every once and a while. You watch as sweat begins to form at his hairline, perfect face beautiful in the dim light of his room, quiet music floating from his tv’s speakers as the episode is long forgotten and scrolling through the credits screen endlessly. Each noise that bubbles up from his chest equally soothes and paralyzes you, your own personal brand of poison seeping coldly through your veins. Your lips are perpetually hung open, mouth becoming so dry you can barely squeak out your own moans.

You feel your orgasm building suddenly after a particularly strong thrust and you swallow harshly, moving to speak to alert him. He doesn’t need any warning, reaching down to throw your leg over his shoulder and angle his lower body to perfectly hit that same spot over and over.

In seconds the poison is washing over you, lapping first at your feet like waves at the shore, nearly knocking you out as you float high above yourself, almost feeling like you’re having an out of body experience. Your chest is heaving as he slows his movements, as if he’s going to pull out.

A confused look forms on your face, head cocking to the side as you grip his arm, shaking your head wildly. Your hair is sticking to the back of your neck and you feel too hot on his plush bedding, but that isn’t reason to stop.

“Wait…what about…” you ask, confused, knowing he hasn’t come. Your eyes flick to the door again, wondering if he’s heard something while you were swimming a galaxy of bliss post orgasm.

He smiles at you, sliding out slowly and disposing of the condom quickly. He walks back over and takes your hand, bringing you to rise on shaky legs, standing naked beside his bed as he takes both your cheeks in his hands and kisses you deeply on the lips.

“I was thinking it would be better to continue what we started on set,” he purrs against you when he finishes ravaging your swollen lips.

A mischievous look forms in your eyes and you drop your hand to his stiff cock, giving it a few experimental pumps with the mix of lube and pre cum.

“Oh yeah?” is all you can reply, sinking slowly to your knees, still managing to tease him at this moment. You drop your hands to let them rest at your thighs, pressed together in an attempt to cool the burning heat still there.

He hisses out as soon as he can see you below him, bicep flexing as he runs his hand through his hair, shaking his head in feigned annoyance. His lids are heavy and all you can see are the whites of his eyes as they roll up in ecstasy.

You run your hands up your body, fingering the side of your neck and then tangling your fingers in your own hair seductively, never looking away from the man standing above you.

“Show me how good you can be for me, Noona,” he grunts out suddenly, gripping your chin way tighter than he had in the dressing room earlier. You grit your teeth but try to keep your face even as he tilts your head lightly, as if studying your face.

You gulp audibly and take him in your hands, finally faced with what you already knew was going to be stretching your cheeks as you were definitely going to struggle fitting him in your small mouth.

You tongue at his slit teasing it gently before sucking at the tip, letting it rest in your open mouth, eyes flicked up at him menacingly. You can tell from the look in Jisung’s eyes that he is dying to ram his cock down your throat but is trying so hard to let you set the pace.

Without any warning, you're sliding him further and further into your mouth, hands massaging his smooth calves to ground you. He’s getting louder now and one of his hands is playing in your hair, every once and a while gripping it tighter.

It only takes a few gentle thrusts till his voice becomes more strained and he’s tapping you on the head as a poor attempt of warning you he’s close. You resolve to let him spill into your mouth, but as soon as he comes the sudden movement causes most of the mess to land on your cheek and shoulder.

His loud exclamation of his pet name for you still ringing in the air, his hand loosens in your hair and you’re on your feet, hands settling on his broad chest, a hazy look of satisfaction on your face.

He seems mesmerised by you covered in his cum and draws a thumb up to that same spot between your ear and jaw, sliding it down and through the mess he made on your face. It’s as if everything’s moving in slow motion as your bottom lip drops open without a word and he slides his thumb into welcoming lips. You taste him, all of him, as he watches you suckle on the digit and blush form on your cheeks under the shine of your skin.

“Fucking filthy baby,” he whispers out, yanking you towards him as he sits on the edge of his bed and lifts you into his lap.

You can feel him harden under you and feel yourself warm up as his cock brushes against your core. You grind down on his lap which is met by him only gripping your waist tighter and landing a light smack on your ass. You grin at this and lean forward to kiss him, pushing your tongue greedily into his mouth.

“Already wanting more?” he asks with a mild mocking tone when you pull back, breathless and red in the face. He’s fully groping your ass at this point, massaging your cheeks with his fingers and pressing his palms into the thick flesh there.

You nod aggressively as you grind down on his cock again, spreading your thighs a bit more for better leverage. You want nothing more than for him to slide his bare cock into you right here and let you ride him through multiple orgasms, your tits bouncing right at eye level as he groans into your mouth through open mouthed kisses.

He merely laughs, pulling you out of your fantasy and reaches awkwardly for another condom, hand firmly keeping you in place.

“As much as I want what you want right now baby, let’s make sure there’s no-“ he starts out, rolling the condom on with shaky hands.

“SUNG, PLEASE!” you yell, clasping a hand over his mouth in embarrassment.

Even in the midst of it all, all the lustful years leading up to this moment, all the hidden glances and late night drunken thoughts, he is still your poison. Something that worms its way into your mind, into your heart. Normally, you wouldn’t even imagine being this close to someone without protection but somehow, Jisung does something to you that makes you want to be reckless. You want to be reckless with your heart, let it be swallowed whole by him. You want to throw your body on him, let him tear you down and degrade you and use you. You want to give him everything and every bit of love you can offer. You think you can see the two of you growing old together, sitting quietly in a park watching your grandchildren play together in the distance.

But you see, that’s the problem with poison. It gets in your veins, in your lungs, in your heart and slowly sweeps and finally, finally tears you down. You float high above yourself again, seeing stars as Jisung releases into the condom and his head falls against your chest. You are both quiet and unsure of what comes next. The poison of this night will wear off soon and reality will set in, leaving you only the memories of this night to return to in your dreams.

#nct smut #nct fanfic #nct x reader #park jisung #jisung x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream smut #jisung smut #park jisung x reader

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ducky-dawn47 · 5 months ago

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WELCOME TO THE FLOCK, MY DUCKLINGS!!

Come! Come! Settle down while Mama spins you a sorry tale of Legends and their Trials...

If you'd like to support me monetarily, or commission me for Art or Writing, please follow these links to my Patreon and Kofi! Thank you for the support!!!

(EVERYTHING TO DO WITH THE LEGENDARY AU BELOW THE CUT)

So I recently have been QUITE hyperfixated on Lego; Monkie Kid, Watching the show religiously with my boyfriend, Finally coming back to Tumblr to be fed more Art (Looking at you, @kyri45 , @swagginmun , @quesocheeso and @madabapf ) And eventually venturing out into the rabid ocean that is Ao3! for wonderful fics like those made by @smilesatdawnmain , @starsfic , @cloud-somersault and of course @zephyra-in-the-house ! I have gained such an incredible amount of inspiration from the creators around me that it eventually dragged my ass out onto the metatheoretical stage that is these platforms by the scruff of my shirt- Via @bluephoenixprincess 's 'Demon Courting Tournament' post- And led me to making this post! and hopefully many more!

THIS FIC IS FOR MATURE AUDIENCES. AGES INTENDED ARE 18+. And though i cannot force anyone to not lie about their age or use the internet however you want, Know that this is your only warning that I give. Whatever content you choose to consume at whatever age is between You and Your Gods should you have any. Just don't come crying to me when you suddenly become aware just how psychologically damaging all the shit I put these monkeys through can be. There's also like a lot of smut that I refuse to be shamed for

Legendary Guide

A world where Wukong and Liu'er were separated very differently from Canon, and where Demonic and Celestial Courting is far more important to the Legend of the Monkie Kid.

Follow the Monkey Trio as they navigate a world of heartache, persecution, harassment, retribution, justice, and eventually...

Reunion.

Concept Outline/Prologue

"Legendary" -The Biggen! This is the main story, a canon-rewrite of the whole show starting from the Season 2 Special and onward!

"A Million Dreams" - A smaller side project, made for worldbuilding, a showcase of past ShadowPeach, the Brotherhood, and Mac and Wukong's last conversation

"The Journey and the Aftermath" - Another small side project, meant for more worldbuilding, a showcase of what Wukong's relationship with the Pilgrims was like, Wukong's initial Greif, and the First Tournament

"Of Obsidian and Wind, The Samadhi Son" - A Sub-Plot to the larger story of Legendary. showcasing Red Son's initial 2 week therapy sessions from the timeframe of him getting to FFM to him 'waking up' Mk in chapter 9. with a couple of therapy sessions between him and Sandy talking about future events. will update alongside Legendary.

One Shots;

The Cicada and the Infant - The Golden Cicada. One of the Buddha's first disciples, now cast out of Paradise. And cursed to live 10 pious lives in accordance with Heaven's command. Or, in short;

Cicada is Heaven's slave. Until they say he is done. He just wants to go home.. He is on his 8th Life shackled to the Jade Emperor's command. He is almost done. At the end of this life, he is tasked with "Securing the Jade Emperor's Rule." By killing Sun Wukong and Liu'Er Mihou's son.

In the Dark of the Night - Mk has some trouble with his clones, and his magic, and sleep, and training- when did he last eat again? He doesn't quite know... But he does know His Family is safe. Because he stays Awake. A certain Mr. Shadow takes issue with this.

When the Noodles are Free - A Collection of Memories Tang and Pigsy share, their First meeting, Dating, taking in Mk, Wedding Night, and some fluffy and difficult memories of raising their little Xiaotian.

Champion, Warrior, King - The New Jade Emperor calls upon a well- renowned Prophetess to tell him his future of his Reign over the Realms.

ART!!!

Main Playlist

Secondary Playlists

Worldbuilding!!!

Main Height Chart

Suitors Height Chart

FANART!!

Memes!!!!

It is so nice to finally give myself a Voice on these platforms. I can't wait to show you what I have made.

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cat3ch1sm · 2 years ago

Note

you've made a lot of fics about killua, but never a general relationship headcanon? 🌸 could I request that?

By the way, I love the way you write the characters, it always feels pretty Canon and I enjoy reading your works a whole lot <33

🌱~ messages like this always make my day💚 than you so much!! im so happy you enjoy my works <33 more are on the way! ilysm 🫶🏾🫶🏾

these are way longer than i thought they were gonna be wow😭😭 turn out i have a whole bunch of killua relationship hcs in my brain and you seem to have broken the dam😭 i hope you like them lmaoo

𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬!

°˖ ⊹ ꒰🌱꒱ ♡ definitely don’t expect killua to be the sappy, super overly affectionate type. he will either call you a dumbass or stupid or some other insult. but when you protest he’ll just be like “whatt? i meant it in a nice way.”

killua is not a pda guy. the most he’ll do in public is hold your hand and even that’s a coin toss. he isn’t that fond of things like that anyway, but mostly he’s just worried that if an enemy of his sees you with him that they’ll target you in order to hurt killua. he’ll never admit that, though.

in private it is a different story. he lets you play with his hair and likes to lay with his head in your lap. once he fell asleep like that and woke up so embarrassed even though you told him over and over that it was fine and you thought it was cute, which just made it worse. it’s rare he’s the one initiating physical affection, but it does happen. it’s slightly awkward when you first start dating though, since obviously that’s a new concept to killua. i can definitely imagine him doing that yawn and stretch move when you’re watching a movie or something, but when you reciprocate his affection killua gets all flustered.

killua has legitimately no idea what to do in a romantic relationship. hell, he doesn’t know what a good family relationship should even look like, and he never made a friend until he was like 12, so healthy relationships are a foreign concept. he will be absolutely flabbergasted when you buy him gifts every once in a while just to make him happy, and he’s shocked when you buy him chocolate robots for Valentine’s Day, and he is beyond confused when you give him compliments or tell him that you love him.

killua always admonishes you when you buy him stuff. whenever you bring him something he’ll just stare at it and scoff. “why do you even bother buying me stuff? i’m rich enough to buy your whole family and more, so why do you even bother getting me stuff like this?”

he always takes it anyway so don’t even mind him. killua has a specific place where he keeps your gifts. when he’s away from home he keeps them on him in a knapsack or wherever he’s staying at the time, but when he’s at the zoldyck mansion, killua locks everything away in a box safely hidden and always keeps the key on him so his family can’t get to it.

speaking of his family. you are definitely out of your mind if you think killua is willingly taking you to meet them. absolutely not in a million years. if ever killua does need to go back to his home for something, usually to check on alluka, you are staying wherever you are until he gets back. he will also ask gon to keep an eye on you if gon happens to be traveling with you. killua would rather his family just not know about you at all lest the zoldycks do the same to you as they sometimes do with alluka- capture you, and then hold you over killua’s head and threaten you whenever they want him to do something.

okay enough with the angsty stuff and back to how literally clueless killua is about dating. when gon who is the rizz god for some fucking reason informs him that he needs to take you out on dates, killua is blindsided. at first he just takes you places he likes to go, like the skate park or heavens arena to watch fights, but gon pulls him aside again at some point and says that he needs to take you places that you enjoy. which is something that killua is kind of stubborn about at first, but he does actually want to make you happy, so he obliges.

there’s this post on like twitter or something where this guy is talking about how since spending time with his gf she has him watching stupid shit he would never watch like twilight or grey’s anatomy. that is basically what happens with killua. he’s doing stuff with you that he never thought he would do in a million years and enjoying it for whatever reason. don’t tell anyone though because he gets so embarrassed

one of the things he found out that he likes is wearing eyeliner. you made sone offhanded comment about it and that his eyes look like a cat’s and suddenly you were doing eyeliner for him. it took a lot of convincing, but when killua sees how good it looks on him, he’s asking you to do it for him every day. eventually you teach him how to do it himself as well

killua winds up going to gon a lot for relationship advice. what does he do when you’re sad? go to gon. what should he do for your birthday? ask gon! should he get you new shoes or a new jacket? what do you think, gon?

killua rarely lets you pay for stuff. he’s rich so he doesn’t see why he should

whenever you’re on your phone or reading a book or something, killua will randomly appear behind you and put his head on your shoulder and just watch what you’re doing in silence. but if he sees you’re doing something like online shopping, just scrolling through items, killua will tap the screen whenever he sees something he likes for you. he especially likes to pick out your clothes, and he’s actually good at it. unlike the going out on dates thing, he picks out what he thinks you will like and what looks good on you. honestly killua was the only character who actually changed clothes every day in the show so he’s good with fashion lmao. most of the time he’ll buy the item for you too

killua also doesn’t mind too much if you steal his clothes, like his hoodies or hats. he might not let you take the newer stuff, but he doesn’t mind letting you parade around in his clothes. on the flip side he will also steal some of yours.

killua is very much that bf who claims “im not hungry” but then proceeds to steal half your food. so you’ve learned that whenever he says that to order twice the food

around people he knows, mainly people he doesn’t like, killua likes to show you off- but in a subtler way. like he might casually hold your hand just to show everyone “yeah, i have a partner. no big deal haha”

you literally never have to worry about killua cheating on you. he is fiercely loyal. he’s not one of those bfs that, when approached by another girl or guy, is like “oh, im sorry, but i have a partner.” nah he’s sprinting full speed in the opposite direction of whoever’s trying to approach him. either that or he’s just super rude to anyone who asks for his number or is romantically interested in him.

*cue random mf who wants him* “hi! i thought you seemed really cool and i wanted to know if-“

“nah i got a partner”

“well i just was wondering-“

“fuck out my face im dating someone”

“just-“

“hell nah”

in addition to that, killua is very much the jealous type. if you haven’t watched the phantom rouge movie go watch it rn and tell me killua isn’t jealous. anyone else who makes you smile or laugh or makes the mistake of touching you, killua instantly hates. he always makes sure to be there whenever you’re around that person. situations like that are an exception to his PDA rule- he’ll throw an arm around your shoulder or waist if he’s feeling really protective, or hold your hand. he doesn’t get jealous about gon, though- all three of you are friends and he knows for sure gon wouldn’t try anything on you in a million years.

killua may or may not go a little overboard with his jealousy at times, though. he might mistake a simple interaction for someone trying to get with you

“yo, y/n- why was that guy talking to you?”

“*long sigh* killua. how else was he going to take my order?”

killua is on the protective side and doesn’t really like for you to be out without him or gon. if you aren’t back within a certain timeframe he’ll start spamming your phone with texts and calls to make sure you’re okay.

from: killua @ 10:56 pm

“yo”

“y/n”

“yo”

“you good”

“heLLOOOO”

“you’re supposed to answer me im your boyfriend”

“why do you hate me”

“are u alive”

“come back”

“pls”

“where u at”

“it’s almost 11”

“if ur dead im going to kill u”

“ANSWER BRO”

from: y/n @ 10:57

“HOW DID YOU SEND SIXTEEN FUCKING MESSAGES IN THE SPAN OF ONE MINUTE”

from: killua @ 10:57

“:3”

#cat3ch1sm #hxh headcanons #hxh memes #killua x reader #reader x killua #killua zoldyck x reader #killua zoldyck x you #you x killua #anime #hxh imagines #hxh fic #killua hxh #killua headcanons #killua x you #reader x killua zoldyck

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tickledpink31 · 5 months ago

Text

Octavinelle Arc: Merfolk Transformation

Let me just start off by saying, guys, I'm really sorry for not updating my fic in like a million years or posting anything of my drawings here in a long time. I got into other fandoms and went through a creative burnout. (I can't write sports or fighting scenes well enough to save my life.) Recently, I got into a new college for a career change, and it is currently kicking me in the ass.

I did dig up some of my old drawings. These are ideas I had for the Octavinelle arc, if I ever get around to writing that. Minako decided to mess around with the water-breathing potion to give her and her friends some extra defences just in case. So far I've made designs for Minako, Grim, and Deuce.

Let me just start off by saying that the tweels made me realize how much I love the idea of mermaids having less-than-human features aside from their tails. That means scales and fins on their arms, gills on their necks (although I forgot to add that on the first drawing)

Minako, as you can see, took on a koi mermaid form. Note that I headcanon that merfolk are euryhaline creatures regardless of what kind of species of fish they are, and that means that they can survive in a wide range of salinity. So even if Minako is a freshwater fish, she can still thrive swimming in seawater. Considering that Floyd can swim in a pool, where there's chlorine and a lack of salt content for saltwater fish to survive, in his eel form, my headcanon is likely not too far from canon.

I had so much fun doing Minako's mermaid form that I ended up making two different designs. Though ultimately, I decided that the showa shansoku koi looked the best for the bright reddish orange colours. They're among the top three koi that often win koi fish competitions and garner the most money.

Coincidentally enough, Minako's paternal grandparents used to be professional koi fish breeders who have garnered a ton of money from their winnings in koi fish competitions. (Yeah, the animal enthusiasm runs in the family.)

After this, Floyd stopped calling Minako shrimpy or sea mouse and started calling her koi fish.

Grim was hard to think of a concept for, but then I remembered that there are hydrothermal vents found on the seafloor that spew hot water.

So yes, Grim has become part seal and part volcanic fissure. His ears can now discharge heated water, and he can spit out hot water too. I even tried to recreate his three-pronged tail into a seal's tail.

Thank god that he was the easiest to think about. I mean Floyd calls him mackerel. I just realized that I misspelled mackerel on the drawing. Oh my god.

I don't have much to add other than I had the idea to make Deuce and Ace's spade/heart mark be made out scales.

Ace was another hard one. I haven't fully made a design for him yet. Forgive me, but I just didn't like the idea of drawing him as a full on crab merman. It looked ridiculous in my head. My idea is to make him a regular red merman with crab shell armour. The armour is lighter than it looks for easy swimming, but it's spiny and hard as a defence against the Leech twins.

I haven't drawn Jack yet, but he'll be a sea urchin merman. I like to think that he would be annoyed by his new form because it confirms Floyd's nickname for him.

#my art #twisted wonderland x harry potter #twisted wonderland #harry potter #epics of ink and light #epics of ink & light #twisted wonderland mc #harry potter oc #oc: minako nezumi #twst grim #ace trappola #deuce spade #jack howl

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logoleptic-since-06 · 9 months ago

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JJK Men in Romance Books ✧˖°

(A Concept)

Part 8: Hiromi Higuruma x Fem!Reader

A/N: I have started a series of sorting the JJK men into the different concepts of popular romance books. I will not be writing these as fics, but rather showing what the aesthetics and plots might have been. If someone wants to take inspo from here to write any of these, please credit and tag me.

「 ✦ TROPES ✦ 」

✭ Marriage in Crisis ✭ Second Chance ✭ Grovelling

「 ✦ PLOT ✦ 」

Hiromi Higuruma has everything one could possibly ask for. A flourishing career as a successful lawyer, a penthouse apartment one could only dream of living in, a trophy wife every man wants, you get the idea. He spends most of his time at the law firm, working his ass off to remain at the top of the industry. So much so that by the time he returns to his million dollar apartment after work, his wife is already asleep. He can't remember the last time they had talked, but it's not like it bothers him. He simply doesn't have the time to be bothered by something like this. Y/N has spent the last 8 years being the prime example of a trophy wife. Attending and hosting upper class parties, high end shopping sprees, and cooking things from scratch take up all her days. From an outsider's perspective, her life is the golden opportunity most kill to get. But from her own perspective? The one thing she truly cherishes in her life is gone— her relationship with her husband. The same husband she fell hopelessly in love with in her twenties, the same husband whose eyes would sparkle every time he looked at her, the same husband she devoted her whole life supporting.

Masterlist of this Series

#jjk fanfiction #jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk fandom #jujutsu kaisen x you #hiromi higuruma #jjk higuruma #higuruma hiromi #hiromi jjk #higuruma #higuruma x reader #hiromi x reader #higuruma hiromi x reader #hiromi higuruma x reader

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onyx-syn · 2 years ago

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How LA! Buggy and LA! Mihawk would react to you wearing Lingerie Headcanons

Warnings: Spicy, Lingerie, Flirting, and Talks of sex

*Don't steal my writings and claim it as your own*

*18+ Only*

A/N: Okay okay okay- I know I keep dragging on the fics I've been working on due to work but it will be posted soon🥺❤️

Buggy

🌹He never expects you to wear lingerie as he himself has never expected to be with someone, especially in a committed relationship. Yes he would make a flirtatious/outward comment to those he was attracted to, but for the same attention to be directed towards him was unexpected to say the least

🌹How he would get annoyed at being flirted with even with the slightest bit of a comment would make him into an annoyed flustered, claiming aloud he wasn't but that wouldn't stop the smile from appearing on his lips

🌹so imagine his absolute delight surprise when his creek eyes were greeted by an amazing sight of his partner wearing a lingerie set

🌹Buggy would have a devilish smile plastered across his cheeks, giggling in a euphoric sense as he saw you enter your twos room wearing such a lewd outfit

- "Well, well, well~" Buggy spoke, his voice low as his eyes set on you, the 'beauty of the ball' he would call you to others. Your body in a beautiful delicate fabric of clothing, clenched to your skin, showing off so much yet so little. Buggy's body laid comfortable on the bed of your bedroom, sitting straight up as he gestured you to walk over. Once you walked over to him, the man -feared by many across the East Blue Sea- would be on his knees in front of you.

His gloved hands grasping at the skin of your thighs, moving up and down slowly, pinching lightly. He would be staring up right at you, taking in all the glory and beauty of you standing like a god/goddess in his presence. He spoke, his red stained lips pressing onto your exposed skin of your thighs or hips, kissing them.

"You're so beautiful doll, looking like a true performer for the show. My show~" He stated, his heart racing at a million miles per hour, almost couldn't stand seeing you in such a state as it brought a sensational feeling to him he never knew he needed to see.

"Trying to get me a private show now huh?~" As he continued to speak, his hands reached further up your sides, grazing your hips, feeling how the switch from your delicate skin to the sheer fabric of clothing and how tight it was against your skin. It was a small change, but oh boy did it do something to him.

People were afraid of a man, seeing the act he would put off in an open setting. Whenever we would perform a show, he was seen as a 'freak of nature', a danger to society which made people across the seas to fear him. Not just as a man, but as a pirate.

But here, here it was different.

Here in the privates and comforts of his quarters, he could enjoy the quiet piece of time and admire the beauty that he has which was you. If people were to see him now, begging for the touch of his lover, begging for him to touch and grasp at the skin concealed away from him, begging to love and appreciate how stunning you appeared in the clothing, they wouldn't believe it.

His breathing hitched, gulping as he struggled to remained composed. "Goddamn this outfit you got is gonna be the death of me sweetcheeks~"

🌹After his first greeting with the idea and concept of you wearing lingerie, he was in love with it. He loved to see you beautiful skin tightly clenched to the piece of clothing. His eyes being memorized how how your skin would pudge over clothing with how tight it was to your body, especially in your hip to thigh regions. He loved the way your body was framed from down below, wanting nothing more but to grasp and grope that certain area of yours

🌹Whenever he would go on his raids and pillaging of towns, he would sneakily steal sets and all different kinds of pairs of lingerie he could find. He put them in a special case of beg to know which ones he would give to his 'freaks' and which ones he would give to his 'freakshow~' He would also purposely steal the ones he knows you would enjoy and feel the most comfortable wearing. Yes he was a cruel man that destroyed many towns, but he had deep care and love for what his beloved would wear in bed alright?

🌹He will have you perform little catwalks for him in your bedroom, putting on a little show for you two to witness as you would try on each pair of lingerie he stole for you, both of you critiquing each one. Buggy more so as in a sense of which ones would be the most easiest to rip off of you and fuck you, and which ones he wanted you to wear longer as you rode him

🌹He has so many favorites he loves to see you in its hard to pick. But if he had to choose, his favorite set of lingerie that he loved to see doused over you figure is babydolls with suspender belts, while yes, did conceal your body away in a flowly form, was still see through so he could see your bare skin. Watching you twirl around in the short dress of a lingerie, watching it flow in the wind, lifting up just enough for your hips and ass to be exposed to him brought an immense sense of joy to him you wouldn't believe, as well as how tight the belts clenched to your thighs and legs, he loved it all

Mihawk

🌹Mihawk, as well as Buggy, never expected or really saw himself to be in a relationship. With his line of work, he would much rather prefer having quick stands or dated than committing. Yet, here he was with you, and behind the 'act' he would put on -as you would call it- he truly loved you with everything his heart could give

🌹Sometimes it was difficult to truly know what his expression would be sometimes, most of the time he was serious or had somewhat of a nonchalant look to him

🌹but the moment you appeared with your body graced with the fabric and figure of a lingerie set into your bedroom together, his eyes were all on you

🌹At first, you couldn't tell what his expression exactly was, his face seamlessly being unaffected by it, yet his eyes told a different story. The golden orbs of his siren eyes were swirling in a bit of lust and hunger. A ravenish feeling of wanting to tear the article of clothing off your body and fuck you senselessly

-Mihawk's golden eyes stared as you walked into the bedroom, a piece of lewd fabric covering your once exposed skin off from him. A visible emotion of curiosity emitted from your aura, worried about what his reaction would be at your new article of clothing, seeing as he has said nothing or moved from his spot since you walked in, only staring.

As the moment between you two fell into a thick pit of silence in the air, you could see the look in Mihawk's eyes become more... Hungry. His eyes glaring deep into you, you could feel the emotion he was giving you, feeling as if his eyes were tearing off each inch of stitched fabric off of your body, seeing you fully exposed to him.

But, another side of him loved the way your body wore the lingerie, seeing as it clenched onto your body nicely for him to witness for his eyes only. He sat back against his seat in the corner of the room, near his desk, his finger tips were collapsed together in his lap before he raised one hand up, gesturing with one finger for you to come over to him. Now.

When you strutted over, noticing how Mihawk's eyes were glued to the way your hips swayed in the outfit. He made you stop right before him. Your eyes watched as he moved his weight in the chair, seeing the formation of a bulge in his trousers. He made no noise, however, keeping a contained composure as he ordered you to turn around for him with just a twirl of his finger.

You did so, slowly twirling around, showing off the lingerie in its full glory right in front of you. You stopped back into place as you started before, waiting for Mihawk to speak to you. Instead, he didn't say anything, his golden orbs looked you up and down slowly again. You feel back into another pit of silence until-

"Marvelous~" He spoke, underneath his breath but loud enough for you to hear.

He sat up from his chair, standing in front of you. His colossal hands trailing down the sides of your body, feeling the fabric and what skin was left exposed before he griped your one leg and moved it upwards against his hip/waist, his hand underneath your thigh gripping it tightly.

"Absolutely marvelous, my darling~"

🌹Mihawk is a classy, yet naughty man, underneath all the serious attitude he had put on for his work and life style. He adored the way your body would wear the lewd pieces of clothing, loving every second the way your body moved across the room just for him to watch and admire

🌹Mihawk was and still is a mysterious man, whenever he would be away on 'trips' or so you call them for the vice admiral, you would awaken to a box or two with special engravings with your name and patterns on them. When you opened them up, your eyes would be greeted with the sight of different sets and pairs of lingerie. You felt the heat and intensity rise from your neck to your cheeks once you realized these weren't just any ordinary lingerie either, they were quiet expensive

🌹He loved how much the lingerie would make your figure be more prominent, showing all your perfections cause in his mind you had no imperfections, everyone's body had their own flaws, but no matter what you were beautiful just the way you were. He wanted to see all your flaws, and seeing them in such a sinful piece of clothing sent excitement down to his groins. He would have you show off the new set of lingerie in all angels, front, back etc, by making you sit on his thighs/lap and show him yourself~

🌹Unlike Buggy, Mihawk actually does have a favorite. But His favorite article of lingerie of you to wear is basque/corset ones with the thin belts attached to the hip down to mid thigh drew him nuts. He was memorized with the way it constricted your body, along with the beautiful fabric markings it had along the sheer sides of it. He admire the conceal mystery, how some of your body was exposed through the shear fabric while the other half wasn't. Only gives him more of a reason to take it off of you and rail you, well, depends on the night, sometimes he would fuck you with it on

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 year ago

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The Florist & the Baker 🌸 (Nanami x Black!F!Reader 18+ One Shot)

Pairing: Florist!Kento Nanami x Baker!Reader (Meet Cute/Slow Burn)

Synopsis: In which you get a storyline straight out of a meet-cute romcom when Nanami, the quiet and stoic yet handsome florist who only comes into your bakery for coffee, asks you out on a date.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Non-Curse AU; Friends to Lovers; Slow Burn; Meet Cute; Cheesy, Fluffy Romance; Soft Dom!Nanami; Romantic; Public Sex; First Date Sex; 69ing; Nanami is an Eater; Big Dick; Facefucking; Missionary + Doggystyle; Cumshot; Creampie; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: Nanami is WHIPPED in this one shot man. Like WHEN WILL THIS BE ME??? I’ve been having a brain rot over the concept of florist!Nanamj lately. It’s such a cute trend & I had to write some fluffy, Hallmark romance shit for it 😩 This one is also inspired by Nanami x Tiana (the Disney princess). It’s such a random ship but it’s so CUTE!! Go check them out!! -Jazz

**********

It was a cool, rainy March morning when you met him for the first time.

Your bakery, best known for its pastries and catering, always opens at 9 AM on weekdays to serve the sleepy-eyed crowd hurrying off to work or classes in the morning. You thought that day was no different. At the time, you were the only one working that morning when the bell above the door rang.

So you turned around in your work uniform of sneakers and an apron over a warm sweater and jeans. “Good morning!” you chirped in your usual bright tone of voice. “Welcome to…”

The rest of your rehearsed sentence fell short when the man stopped to rub his boots against the rug near the door and take the wet hat off of his head.

He was tall and extremely handsome like he just stepped out of a GQ Magazine to personally greet you. Under his hat laid a face card that could envy millions of men: a sharp jaw and cheekbones; a blonde undercut that somehow made him look older; brown eyes that twinged with annoyance before he looked at you, his expression softening somewhat. You had never seen a man so fine.

He put up a finger and pressed the Bluetooth earpiece in his left ear that you didn’t notice. “Pardon?” he asked, scowling at you. “Sorry, I was on the phone. Could you repeat that please?”

And his voice! It was so deep and soothing. You could listen to him read a storybook or your bakery menu in that voice. Usually, you don’t thirst after customers, but you could admire them in secret, right?

Realizing that he’s waiting for an answer, you pretend to cough to stall yourself and act like you weren’t checking out the guy in the expensive wool coat standing behind the counter.

“U-Uh, I was just welcoming you to Sweet Treats,” you quickly reply. “Can I interest you in our seasonal line of cookies and beverages for the spring?” You nod at the menu sitting at the end of the counter among a glass display of flower-shaped cookies. “I recommend the lavender latte if you want something refreshing.”

The man’s face twitched a bit, his brows narrowing at the menu. “Um, no thank you. I don’t do too many sweets, especially in the morning.” He cleared his throat, his eyes skidding from yours for a moment as if he was too anxious to look at you.

“Can’t argue with that,” you giggled. “How can I help you today, sir?” The man looked up at the menu overhead before choosing a medium-sized latte and the breakfast sandwich on a croissant with egg white and pepperjack cheese, hold the bacon. “Excellent choice, sir!” you commented. “Our breakfast croissant is one of our most popular choices. That’ll be $11.09, please.”

He slipped his wallet out and you watched curiously as he took a gold card out. American Express. ‘Oh, he must have money,’ you thought, oozing with attraction for him instantly.

You took the card and thanked him before swiping it. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a card that looks like this before,” you chuckled. “It’s so heavy yet lightweight at the same time!” You read his name on the card: Nanami Kento.

“Well, when you’re working the demanding job I do and own your own apartment, you need a card like that,” he wryly joked. “Everything I buy with it I pay it at the end of every month.”

“I’ve never heard of such a card!” you said in awe. “If you don’t mind me asking, what is it that you do, sir?” The man gave you a funny look as if you just asked him if he was pregnant. “Um…I’m a florist,” he answered. “Sorry, I’m just not used to people asking me what I do. Conversation is scarce out there.”

You hummed in agreement, handing him back his card. “I completely agree, but sometimes, it’s nice to just talk to someone.” He reached out to take the card, his fingers brushing yours as he did. His fingers are long and calloused. Maybe he played piano? The idea made your stomach flip excitedly for some reason.

You coaxed him to have a seat and wait while you got his order together, brewing the coffee before getting his premade sandwich out of the kitchen fridge to toast.

As you did so, you heard him on the phone again, sounding irritated and frustrated with his coworker on the other line. So you did something to cheer him up: without him looking, you snuck a daisy-shaped sugar cookie into his to-go bag and then called his name from the desk. “Nanami!” you called, smiling at him.

His head shot toward you and he got up, walking ever so elegantly toward you in his red bottom shoes. He took the bag from you, thanking you. “Sorry, but I don’t remember telling you my name,” he said. Fear struck you at first, thinking you offended him, but then you see a playful glint in his eye.

“That’s because you didn’t,” you giggled sheepishly. “I forgot to ask, so I may have peeked at your Amex card. Please come again, sir.”

Nanami’s orgasmic eyes looked into yours for a moment, his handsome face making it so hard to concentrate. “Nanami,” he corrected you. “Thank you, Ms. L/N.”

As he turned around to leave with his breakfast, you pulled a face, wondering how he knew your name…and then you remembered your name tag and squeezed your thighs together. “Come again soon!” you called as he walked out into the rain, putting his hat back on his head.

The rest of the day was filled with thoughts of Nanami. While unbeknownst to you, Nanami’s head swam with tortuous images of the pretty baker with the beautiful skin, gorgeous smile, warm personality, and hip-hugging jeans as he ate his daisy-shaped cookie, shivering in delight at the taste.

Since that day, he has come in often. Sometimes in the morning, sometimes on his lunch break, but he always orders a coffee and you always sneak something sweet as a pick-me-up in his bag. Sometimes he leaves and sometimes he sits to sip on his coffee, only chomping down on your pick-me-up once he leaves.

One day, a month later on a beautiful April day, he comes in during a lunch break when you and Yuki and Mai, your coworkers and friends, are taking care of the lunch rush crowd while Todo, Megumi, and Yuji work in the kitchen.

Yuki ogles him as he walks in, extremely obvious and not trying to hide it from behind the counter. “Damn, he’s fine,” she whispers. “Who the fuck is that?” Mai walks past her with a tray of eclairs to replace beneath the glass displays. “Y/N’s very loyal customer,” she giggles. “He’s been in here almost every day to see her.”

You are busy washing glasses when you see Nanami and you give him a nod and a smile, acknowledging his presence. He nods back, patiently waiting while you set up. “Really?!” Yuki gasps, gaping at you. “Y/N, how come you never told me you have a boyfriend now?”

The kitchen doors open, signaling the arrival of one of the boys. “Who’s got a boyfriend?” Yuji curiously asks. “Here’s the fresh batch of peach cobblers you needed, Y/N.” You look down at the delicious pastries. “Thank you, Yuji, and no, I don’t have a boyfriend. He just comes in here often because he enjoys the coffee and ambiance!”

You glare at Yuki who gives you a knowing look, her lips pursed. “Mmm, I bet it’s the ambiance, alright,” she purrs, bumping her hip with yours as she walks by to tend to the coffee machine.

Then Nanami comes walking up while the girls giggle among themselves. You quickly straighten up and smile at the blonde. “Nanami, it’s good to see you again! What can I get you today?”

The stoic blonde gives you another nod of acknowledgment, his coat open today to reveal his suit and tie. “You as well, Ms. L/N,” he says in his smooth-like-butter voice. “Just the usual, please. I have a meeting so I have to hurry back.” He checks his watch, looking quite pensive.

“Sure thing,” you say and begin to fix up his pastry while you give Yuki his drink order. While you do s, Mai walks past you, her apron replaced with a gorgeous red top and jeans, and gives you a kiss on the cheek. “Headin’ out for the lunch date, hon? Just be careful, okay?”

The black-haired beauty turns and smiles at you. “Gotchu!” she calls. But then she pauses for a moment and smiles at Nanami. “Nice to meet you. I’m Mai, Y/N’s friend.”

You could choke her as you watch Nanami’s ears turn red. With a giggle and a wink your way, she goes skipping out the door into the wonderful spring air. You sigh, busying yourself with heating up his sandwich. Nanami stands by the counter, the silence filled with the whistle of the latte maker and the hum of the microwave.

He suddenly clears his throat, earning your attention. “Nice day for a date, I suppose,” he awkwardly says. He’s trying hard to make conversation. You giggle to yourself at his adorable awkwardness. “Agreed, but my date will probably be with my dog later. It’ll be beautiful weather for a walk.”

The ding of the bell above the door rings, signaling the arrival of another customer. You look at Yuki and give her a wink, hurrying to finish making Nanami’s drink while she takes care of the customer. “So there are no suitable bachelors lined up for you right now?”

Nanami curiously asks. You blink at him, shocked by the question. Quickly, he tries to backtrack. “I apologize if that’s too personal.”

“No, you’re fine!” you hurriedly reply. “At least you’re not asking me what time I get off…which yes, that has happened before many times.” But if Nanami were to ask you this, you can’t say you’d say no. “Dating just isn’t in the cards for me right now with running a business and all.”

Nanami nods, watching your hands move as you maneuver the foam machine for the top of the latte. “What about you?” you quip, smiling at him. “I’m sure a guy as handsome as you has a girl on his arm.”

You expect Nanami to laugh at this, but he doesn’t. Instead, his frown deepens and you feel like offing yourself. “I-I’m sorry,” you gasp. “That was so inappropriate to say.”

“Don’t apologize,” he interrupts you. “That’s very sweet of you.” A light, pink blush lightly coats his cheeks, making your heart flutter. “And no dating for me either, I’m afraid. My life is just too busy and demanding for such.”

He pauses as if thinking and his eyes flick down to your hands. “But if anyone deserves a nice date in such nice weather, I’m sure everyone in here would agree that it’s you.”

You stop and stare at him for a moment, shocked by his sweet words and game. You damn near burn his sandwich from spacing out because of his words, so much so that Yuki has to turn off the microwave because you don’t hear it beeping. You don’t know why Nanami’s compliment stuns you so much. It’s just a compliment!

And then you realize it’s because of how genuine it is. You can tell he means it. You can’t deny the way it affects you as you finish his order. Your hands shake as you wrap up his sandwich and secretly place a sun-shaped sugar cookie into his to-go bag.

You give him a smile that you hope doesn’t wobble as you pass him his order. “Have a nice day, Nanami,” you softly say.

He takes the coffee and bag, his hands lightly brushing against yours. You feel something explode within you from even the slightest touch of your fingers. You search his face, wondering if he felt it too. “Kento,” he corrects you. “You as well, Ms. L/N.”

You nearly melt beneath his gaze. “Y/N,” you correct him.

He gives you a small smile before heading off to work, taking the intoxicating scent of his cologne and your head with him. Yuki is the one who brings you back down to earth, carrying two iced coffees. “Oooh, that was sexy to watch,” she giggles. “Y/N, your man is such a man.”

“He’s not my man,” you grumble, glaring at her. “Quiet and take the drinks to my customers, please.” She just laughs, skipping away while you attempt to gather yourself.

Yuki’s joke unfortunately sticks: “Your man is here, Y/N.” This is what your coworkers began telling you and teasing you with once Nanami started showing up more frequently. He sometimes shows up on his lunch, chatting with people on the phone about orders from his florist shop, but it’s mostly in the mornings on the way to work.

And every single time, you hope that he asks you out. But he never does. But even so, you look forward to seeing him again. So when Yuki, your fellow coworker, and co-baker says it again–“Your man is here again, Y/N”–you turn towards her and react like she just told you that there is a hundred-dollar bill under your shoe or like you’ve got a great ass. The blonde woman smirks from the side counter where she is fixing the pastry displays, not even looking up when the bell above the front door rings.

It is a beautiful day in May, blue skies and sunshine with a pleasant 70-degree breeze. You were happy to start your day this morning because of the weather, but now, it just got even better. Nanami has ditched his coat for a simple yet sexy blue button-down, his zany tie, and slacks.

He looks much better than you in your flour-dusted apron after baking bread before the store opened this morning. “Hi, Kento!” you chirp. “Oh, is this a friend of yours?”

Behind him, he not only carries his briefcase but also an equally handsome, tall man with snow-white hair, blue eyes, and a kind of swagger you know has people’s undies dropping for him. The opposite of Nanami, it appears. Nanami looks like he dreaded you asking. “Unfortunately,” he sighs.

The white-haired stranger moves beside Nanami and puts a hand out for a shake. “Hello, miss,” he greets. “Gojo Satoru, pleased to meet you. I’m a longtime friend of Kento’s. We go waaaaay back.” You look at Nanami who looks like he wants to die. “Nice to meet you,” you laugh, shaking Gojo’s hand.

Gojo gives you another Colgate smile. “Kenny has told me so much about you, you know,” he teasingly says, earning a death stare from Nanami. “Oops, shouldn’t have said that! Here, Ken, you take it from here. That cobbler has my name on it.” He strides over to the glass display of pastries and baked goods, leaving you both alone.

Nanami gives you an apologetic look but you giggle it off. “So how’s it going today? Can I get you anything?” You mentally prepare to get his usual order ready, but he shakes his head and fixes his tie, looking nervous for some reason. “Uh…it’s going well and no, I’m in a hurry, but…I wanted to give you these.”

He then slowly takes his arm from behind his back and reveals a bouquet of the most beautiful and bright red, yellow, and pink tulips you’ve ever seen wrapped in paper. For you.

“Oh!” you gasp, placing a hand on your heart. “Oh.” He hands them to you over the counter, much to the prying eyes of your friends and other customers in the bakery.

“They’re from my shop,” he explains despite you not even asking. “I wasn’t aware what color you liked, but I figured bright ones couldn’t hurt.”

He gives you a sheepish, nervous smile which is quite a sight from such a stoic and calm man. You gently stroke one of the tulips’ soft petals and inhale the sweet perfume of them. You can’t remember the last time a man surprised you with anything, let alone flowers.

You are touched and absolutely floored for him. “I love them, Kento,” you whisper. “Thank you.” You give him a smile which he crookedly returns. “You’re welcome…and I also wanted to ask you something.”

“Okay,” you say because what the fuck else can you say? He leans over the counter, giving you a whiff of his cologne. It has you thinking about him doing very naughty things with you over the counter. “I know you said before that your life makes dating hard and whatnot, and I’ll completely understand if you say no, but…my friend recently mentioned to me that I shouldn’t let good things pass me by, so…”

His eyes shift to Gojo who is sipping on a lavender iced latte and giving him a thumbs up, not even trying to act like he isn’t listening. The florist turns back to you, his cheeks pink. “I was wondering if maybe you’d like to have dinner with me one day?” It’s meant to be a statement, but it comes out as a question.

You stand there stunned for a moment, your brain moving slowly. You’ve been waiting for so long for him to ask you out and now he is! Nanami takes your silence for a no and visibly withers. “Forget what I said,” he sighs. “Please. That was so stupid of me. I’m so–”

“Nanami, I’d love to,” you quickly reply, breaking out into a huge, dumb smile that hurts your cheeks. “Is Friday night okay? I get off at 7 PM.” The florist looks shocked and then his face softens with relief and happiness. “Friday at 7 sounds perfect.”

Your stomach flutters with butterflies as you stare at him, clutching his flowers close to your chest. “Did ya ask her yet, Nanami?!” Gojo shouts from the other side of the room.

Nanami sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, I have to go take him out back and shoot him. Is it okay if I call the bakery?” You giggle at his joke but then give him a crooked smile, staring at him beneath your lashes. “It would….but I think having my number would be better, don’t you?”

The florist stares at you, shaken by the flirty little line you threw. But it works! You end up getting Nanami’s number instead and putting a little flower next to his contact.

Just so he doesn’t waste your or your staff’s time, Nanami orders an iced latte and gives you a bashful smile when you take it from him. “I’ll see you Friday then.” You nod and watch him leave with Gojo. Mai comes up behind you along with Yuki, both girls having watched everything go down from behind you. “Smooth, Y/N,” Mai whispers. “Very smooth.”

For the rest of the week, you anticipate Friday night for your date with Nanami. You plan your outfit according to the weather, shave your legs and kitty beforehand, and smile at your tulips every morning when you wake up, reminded every morning of what is to come. But then you get a cold. Spring is good for most things, but immunity? Fuck no.

You go in on Friday morning anyway, snotting, sneezing, and your voice scratchy. Yuki and Mai scold you two hours into your shift, snatching your apron from you. “For God’s sake, Y/N, just go home!” Mai snaps. You sound awful! We can handle the bakery without you for a few days until you get better.”

Yuki nods, helping you get into your jacket and passing you an extra box of tissues for the road. “And no sucking faces with the hot blonde man till you get rid of this cold.”

So you go home and immediately hit Nanami up while lounging on your couch in your sweats and slippers, your nose stinging from blowing it so much and your throat congested. This is the first time you’re calling him and you feel nervous. Your heart pounds with every ring from the other line, but when he finally picks up, you just about melt.

“Hello?” He asks, his deep, silky voice filling your ear. “Hi, Nanami, it’s me,” you say, cringing at your sick voice. “I’m so sorry to do this, but you think we can take a rain check on that date? I’m sick.”

“Of course,” he says, sounding concerned. “Just remember to eat and rest up, okay? I recommend lots of herbal tea too.” You feel your heart burst at his advice and worry for you. “You would recommend that,” you giggle, crossing your ankles on the couch. “Any ones I can use for medicine?”

Nanami is happy to tell you. “I don’t think you’d need it, but honeysuckle flowers work for coughs and sore throats.” You nod and lay your head back against the couch, listening to him, falling in love with his voice. “Tell me more,” you whisper. “I-If you’re not busy.”

His light chuckle makes you throb between your legs. For the next twenty minutes before he’s forced to leave due to his duties, he tells you all about plants and flowers which somehow leads to you talking about your favorite things to do, hobbies, foods, etc.

When you finally hang up for the day, all you want is to talk to him again, so you hurry to get better. Nanami checks on you every single day which only makes your attraction to him grow.

When you return back to work a week later, finally free of your cold, you’re welcomed with big hugs and a gift package complete with a coffee mug, fuzzy socks, tea bags, chocolates, and a gift card to your favorite store. “It was my idea!” Todo proudly says.

“Mine too, you big bitch!” Yuji snaps.

“I bought the gift card since these two were broke,” Megumi says.

You laugh at the boys, hugging each of them. “That’s so sweet, guys,” you coo, hugging the gift package close to you. You begin to walk to the back to set your things down in the employee lounge, but you stop. There, on the counter, sits a bouquet of beautiful, vibrant azalea flowers.

You walk up to the flowers, your heart skipping a beat. “Did you guys get these too?” you ask, pointing at the gorgeous flowers. Yuki shakes her head, much to your relief and joy. “No, these were delivered this morning. There was no ID; just a tag that said ‘The Greenhouse on the Hill’.”

Nanami’s flower shop.

You break into the biggest smile you have ever made. That afternoon when you return home with your gorgeous flowers, you set them on the kitchen counter and hit Nanami up, already anticipating the sound of his silky, sexy voice.

Four rings go by before he actually answers. “Yes?” he asks, sounding somewhat irked. Your stomach drops at his shortness. “Hi, Nanami…is this a bad time?”

“Shit,” he sighs apologetically. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t even look at your contact. The shop has been so busy with Mother’s Day coming up and all of these fucking spring weddings, excuse me language.”

“I get it,” you giggle, leaning against the counter. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you cuss though.” And it’s fucking hot. “I got your flowers today. Thank you.”

“I’m just glad they came on time,” he says, relieved. “I was so sure they’d get there later in the week…and you’re welcome. I was hoping it’d make up for us missing our date.”

You gently fiddle with one of the flower petals, biting your bottom lip. “I also wanted to call you about that,” you shyly begin. “Since we didn’t go on our date and I’m still building up my immune system since my cold, why don’t I invite you over to my shop and I can cook you something?”

Nanami is quiet for a moment and you begin to think that you may have suggested something dumb. “You haven’t been to my shop yet,” he states.

Not waiting for an answer, he continues: “Instead of me coming there, why don’t you come here and I can cook you dinner? As you said, it’d be better to stay away from other people since you’re building your immune system back up and…” He stops abruptly. “Sorry,” he chuckles sheepishly. “I’m rambling.”

“It’s okay,” you giggle despite him blushing on the other line. You are just as bashful, feeling warm all over at the thought of Nanami cooking for you and visiting his shop. “I like that idea, Nanami. I’m good with this Friday night if that works for you.”

“Perfect,” he sighs. “I’ll pick you up at the bakery at 7.” You hang up and giddily fix yourself some wine, unwinding after a day of business.

As the week goes on, you wait impatiently for Friday to make its appearance. When it finally does, you hurriedly change in the bathroom at work, do your makeup, and slip into a sundress that makes your skin pop, flats, and a jacket for the pleasant May air. When you step out, Mai and Yuki gape at you.

“Oooh, you look so good, Y/N!” Yuki exclaims. “Blondie ain’t gonna know what hit him! He’ll be dying to eat you instead of–”

“Hush!” you bark. “This is our first date, Yuki. I don’t do that on the first date.” You turn away to apply some more lipgloss to your lips, making your lips look extra plump and appetizing.

“Ugh, not that shit!” Mai huffs, giving you a sharp look. “If you two like each other and are attracted to one another, who cares?! You should see the way he looks at you, Y/N! It’s like he’d bend you over the counter and fuck you if we weren’t here.” She gives your ass a squeeze in your sundress.

“I’m shutting this convo down now,” you firmly say, batting her hand away. “Nanami and I like each other, yes, but we’re taking it slow. I wanna get to know him until we–”

A knock on the door cuts you off and you turn, finding Nanami standing there. The girls laugh among each other as you race to the door. “Both of you, shut up!” you hiss before opening the door. Your date looks absolutely fuck worthy in a black polo shirt, tan slacks, and dress shoes. Very casual yet still sexy. “Hi, Nanami!” you chirp. “M’ready now.”

“Have fun, you two!” Yuki shouts once you fetch your work bag. “Y/N, be home before dark, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

You ignore her and leave with Nanami, stepping out into the warm air. Nanami looks adoringly at you under the street lamps. “You look really nice,” he shyly says. You let the compliment wash over you, flattered. “It’s only a short walk from here,” he says. “Just follow me.”

Greenhouse on the Hill really is a short walk from your bakery. You can’t believe you’ve never seen him around before with how close your places of business are. It is a quaint little white store with planted flowers blooming along its windows and along the steps you walk up with Nanami. In the back is a greenhouse to which he leads you to. He takes a ring of keys out and unlocks the door before flicking on the light.

Your eyes widen at the dozens of flowers, plants, and herbs surrounding the large glass greenhouse. You step into the warm, toasty greenhouse, smiling from ear to ear. “Wow, Nanami!” you gasp in awe. “This is beautiful! You planted all of these yourself?”

The florist closes the door and steps beside you, trying to hide his prideful smile. ”From scratch. I can give you a tour if you want.” He offers you his elbow and you waste no time taking it, his cologne making you dizzy. “Please,” you reply, soft and breathless from him being so close.

For the next twenty minutes, Nanami introduces you to his many flowers and plants, telling you which ones are meant for which holidays and occasions; what colors go best with certain bouquets; what flowers match certain personalities, etc. You try to listen and learn, but you’re so wrapped up in how sexy his voice is that you find yourself thinking of other things.

When he finally realizes how long he’s been talking for and blushes as bright as the roses you stop in front of. “Sorry,” he sighs. “I’m rambling again.” You shake your head, gently stroking his arm. “Don’t be sorry. I like listening to you speak. You’re so passionate about this and it’s obviously something you love.”

Nanami’s gaze shifts and the way he looks at you now feels intimate and tender. It fills you with tingles all the way down to your toes. “What?” You exhale. He looks as if he wants to say something, but he decides not to. “Nothing,” he says. “We should eat before the food wastes. I have wine too.”

He has you wait while he goes back to the shop and comes back minutes later with a blanket that he lays on the floor and a picnic basket. Inside lies two wine glasses, a chilled wine bottle, rice balls, homemade salad, and for dessert, one of your famous crème brûlées from your bakery. “I came in early before you got there,” Nanami explains as you gape down at the cake. “I wanted to surprise you.”

You swear you could kiss him.

The dinner is straight out of a Disney movie. The food is delicious, the wine is refreshing and loosens you both up, and the conversation is even better. You and Nanami sit next to each other on the blanket, shoes off and completely at ease. You chat about your likes and dislikes; your favorite movies and most embarrassing moments. You find that Nanami is very funny is an unintentional way and whenever you joke, you find yourself falling in love with his laugh.

By the time you get to dessert, half of the wine is gone and you’re ready to jump him every time he dips his spoon into the sweet French dessert and wraps his lips around it to slurp up the treat. Once he finishes, he sits back and exhales, full. “Wow,” he sighs. “That has to be the best creme brûlée I have ever had. You have quite the gift, Y/N.”

You make a noise between a grunt and a laugh, modest and shy from such a compliment. “You don’t think so?” he asks, looking honestly hurt by the idea. “You should. You make people happy with what you make them, even if it’s just a simple coffee. You put such love into your business and it shows. Your personality makes it even better. I would bet people keep coming back for that…such as me.”

His eyes are tender and genuine, his smile even more so. You finally cannot fight off the effects of him or the wine anymore and move in closer to him. He watches you, not moving a muscle as you strip off your jacket to reveal the spaghetti straps and your bare shoulders underneath. “Kento,” you softly say. “I really want you to kiss me.”

The florist scoots closer to you until your knees are touching. “And I really want to kiss you,” he replies. His eyes flicker to your mouth, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he gulps.

“So do it,” you whisper, barely speaking; just exhaling. And then, finally, his lips find yours.

His kiss is just as magical, careful, and sweet as he is. He lets you take most of the lead, his hands settling respectfully on your waist. But you want more. Need more. So you make it known by placing a hand on his cheek and deepening the kiss, leading to a full-on passionate, heated makeout session that has your head spinning and toes curling.

Nanami’s lips leave yours to plant feverish kisses on your neck and throat. You tilt your head back, welcoming the kisses and embracing him as you do. He does the same to you, your smaller body encased in his bigger, more muscular one. It feels good—so good that you can quickly feel your panties becoming uncomfortably wet. “Kento,” you whine.

He gets the message and kisses up to your ear. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do,” he whispers. “I won’t go any further than you want me to. Just tell me what you want, sweetheart.” His teeth lightly nibble at your ear, drawing a soft whine out of you.

“I want you,” you moan. “I want you to fuck me right here.” He pulls away, shocked at the dirty request coming out of you. You place a hand on his thigh, squeezing it gently. “Please,” you add, batting your lashes at him.

Nanami places a hand on your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your bottom lip. “How can I refuse a thing as pretty as you?” He asks himself. You nearly suck him off right there and then.

Minutes later after agonizing foreplay, your spell works on Nanami and you find yourself out of your clothes and only in your panties with the handsome florist on top of you. His soft lips are attached to your nipples, sucking gently yet eagerly at the hardened, brown peaks while you moan and writhe beneath his touch.

His hands idly play with your sides while yours are sunk in his scalp. “Mmm, Nanami,” you moan, your fingers in his blonde hair. “That feels so good. I should’ve known a florist would be so good with his hands, but his mouth too?”

Nanami loves how you sound moaning his name. You can tell by the hard-on you feel pressing against your inner thigh protruding from his slacks. He removes his lips from your nipple, greedy eyes staring up into yours. “You haven’t seen how good I can be yet,” he growls into your ear. “But only if that’s what you want.”

You already know what he wants and you can’t express him how much you want more with your words. You hope your body––your hard nipples, labored breath, and wet pussy pressing against his thigh––say what you can’t.

“Is that what you want?” you softly ask. The blonde shocks you by taking your hand and boldly placing it on his hard dick. You softly gasp at how big he feels in your hand, the shaft thick and pulsing in your palm. “What do you think?” He whispers, obvious, molten lust in his eyes.

That is all you need to hear. Immediately, you grab him and kiss him passionately, emitting porn-worthy moans from his lips that travel into yours. I want your clothes off too,” you softly exhale, earning an agreeable groan from the blonde. Your hands yank and snatch at his clothes, helping him out of his shirt and pants. You work together to strip him, laughing as you do and sharing heated kisses.

Nanami is truly a sight to behold naked. He is a beefcake but he isn’t a gym rat. His arms are big and toned, perfect for wrapping you up in. His pectorals are juicy and squeezeable, sinewy with a sexy cluster of blonde chest hair that matches his toned lower stomach that you want to lick and kiss. You do so, kissing up his luscious physique while he gives you encouraging moans and sighs like a touch-starved man.

His lower half is just as impressive: a firm ass, toned thighs and legs that could crush some skulls, and a V-line that traces down to the promised land. You ogle at his hard cock print in his briefs, your hand moving to grab it. Nanami’s bottom lip catches between his teeth, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your warm hand on his shaft.

“I want somethin’ else to,” you whisper. He raises a questionable brow. “Can we 69?” You suggest, running one hand up his chest while the other palms his dick. The florist opens his eyes and gives you a shocked look like you suggested you do some crazy BDSM shit on the first date.

Before you can take a breath, Nanami is lying down on his back and gripping your hips to force you on top of him. You squeal with laughter, delighted by his eagerness and his strength. “I’ll take that as a yes!” You laugh as you place your hands on his chest and situate yourself.

You look back at him, finding his lustful eyes peering up at you from behind. “I’m not much of a man of words as I’m sure you know, darling,” he says. “I’m better with actions.” He then pulls your panties to the side and proceeds to slurp you up like you’re the first meal he’s had all day.

“Oh, Kento, fuck!” You moan, unable to hold anything back. You grind your ass back into him as his lips and tongue dance across your clit and sodden wet pussy, taking his time getting to know you. “I thought you said you wanted to 69,” he murmurs, his voice slightly muffled by your cunt.

His cock switches impatiently in his briefs and you giggle. “Yes, sir,” you hum, already working to push his briefs down his waist. His cock pops out from its trap and gently slaps against his stomach, hard, thick, and veiny. You could stare at it all night, but all you want to do now is touch and taste it. So you wrap your hands around his shaft and stroke, pump, slurp, and spit to your heart’s content.

Nanami grinds his hips up into your touch as you pump him in time with your mouth, enveloping him with your lips and tongue. You encourage him to do so, moaning out tiny “mmm-hmm”s while you eagerly bob your head, sending vibrations throughout his shaft that travel up his body. “Shit, darling,” he gasps. “That feels fuckin’ amazing.”

Hearing him be so vulgar makes you gush into his mouth, excited by this calm man losing his shit for you. You don’t blame him. Seeing your pretty nails and brown skin contrast with his complexion while your fingers stretch around his cock shiny with your spit is doing things to you too. “Yeah?” You coo. “You like fuckin’ my throat, baby boy?”

You put it on him once again, gagging all over his dick much to his enjoyment. “God!” he gasps, his toes curling and his hands gripping your ass. “That’s just not fair.”

He lets his actions elaborate on that instead of his words, going back to slurping down your pussy and distracting you from your work. Feeling your body shake and shudder makes him chuckle, proud of his skills.

After a couple of minutes of enjoying this position, Nanami gladly spending time between your soft thighs and you giving him as much neck as he can take, you finally can’t take anymore of it. You throw in the towel and look back at him, mouth coated in spit. “I need you, Kento,” you whine. “I need you to fuck me please!”

You feel his cock twitch at your plea. He doesn’t hesitant to remove himself from your pussy, instead giving you all of his attention. “How do you want it, darling?” he asks. “I’ll give it to you however you want.”

You choose to be on your back first. Nanami obliges and helps you off of him to lay on the blanket. You wrap your arms around him, kissing him as he hikes your legs up around his waist. And gently, gently, places himself inside of you. The tiny act of his head sliding inside of you is enough to emit a gasp from the both of you. His eyes meet yours, concern in them.

Though it is a stretch after not being with anyone for a while, it feels good and you let him know by grinding your hips up into him. His handsome face screws up like he’s in pain, his lips parting on a silent moan. “More,” you whisper. “Give me more, Kento.”

How can he possibly deny you? Placing his hands on either side of you, he leans down onto his elbows and begins to slowly rock his hips into you, driving his cock into you inch by inch. He keeps his eyes locked on yours as you take him, watching you react to his thick cock filling you up. “Look at me,” he demands. “Look at me while I fuck you.”

You do so, forcing yourself to keep your eyes on him despite the blinding pleasure you feel when he really begins to fuck you. He grips your hips to bring you closer to him as he drives himself into you, plunging his cock in and out, in and out. Moans and gasps leave your lips, your nails digging into his shoulders and your heels pressed into his ass.

The more he fucks you, the more your pussy gushes for him. He must feel what you’re feeling too because his hips begin to stutter and his cock grows harder inside of you. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he huffs, his last threads of self-control leaving him. “But I can’t help but want to fuck you harder. You look too goddamn perfect bouncing on my cock like this.”

The use of those lewd, filthy words coming from calm, cool and collected Nanami nearly has you gushing. “Do it then,” you urge. “Be rough with me, Kento. It’s okay.” You smile up at him, cupping his handsome face in your hands. “I trust you.”

That’s enough to break him. Pressing a fierce kiss to your lips, he looks you dead in the eyes and slowly, agonizingly rolls his hips down into yours. “Tell me how you want it,” he growls against your lips. “Tell me how you want me to take this pussy.”

You tell him just that and he gently pulls out of you before helping you onto your wobbly hands and knees. “Face down, baby,” he orders, his voice sending shivers down your spine. “I want you exactly like this.” You do as he desires, pressing your face against the blanket while your ass is tooted up in the air.

Nanami doesn’t hesitant to slide home inside you once more and grips your hips as he begins to nail your shit…and I mean, nail it. The man hits that spot again and again, sending you careening into bliss over and over again, your pussy gushing and shuddering around his merciless, thick cock.

“God, Kento, yes!” You whine. “Yes, give it to me just like that! Fuck yes, yes, yes!” Your moans mix with his, bouncing off of the greenhouse walls and creating a symphony of pleasure that only the flowers and plants are privy to.

“You like it like this, darling?” He pants from behind you. “You like gettin’ fucked just like this?” You nod wordlessly into the blanket, your hands gripping the fabric while he uses your ass as leverage to pull himself forward again and again, pistoning himself inside you. You’ve never been fucked like this before: so eagerly and greedily. He needs this just as much as you do.

The fact that he wants you just as much as you want him just about makes you break. You can feel that knot in your core about to snap, your pussy shuddering and fluttering around his pistoning cock. “N-Nanami,” you whimper. “Baby, I’m gonna cum soon. Y-You’ve gotta slow down!”

“Why?” Nanami pants. “Why slow down when I’m about to make such a pretty pussy cum all over me?” He does slow down enough to lean down to whisper in your ear. “I want you close to him,” he coos, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear. “I want to feel you when you cum.”

You smile, delirious with the pleasure but coherent enough to want the same thing. He pulls you flush against him, his front against your back, and begins to fuck you from behind again. His moans and grunts fill your ear while yours bounce off the walls the more intensely he fucks you, one hand on your breast and the other on your ass. “Play with that clit,” he demands. “I want you to cum with me.”

You whimper and whine as you do as he says, your fingers frantically rubbing your clit in time with his pounding. It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to rise along with his. Your mouth falls open and you toss your head back, thrown into the throes of pleasure. “Kento!” You moan. “Fuck, I’m cumming!”

“Me too,” he grunts, gripping you as close to him as you possibly can be. “Cum with me, darling! Give it to me!”

The desperate grunt he lets out as his own end nears throws you over the edge. You loop an arm back around his neck to pull him closer as you finally cum all over his cock. His own orgasm is triggered and he cums right after you, his body tensing as his orgasm zips through him.

Moans of your release mingle in the air as you both climax, but then are silenced as you share a heated, passionate kiss with tongues included. Your pussy spasms against his cock, twitching and gripping him tightly until your orgasm finally fades, leaving you with a satisfied, beaming grin on your face.

Once your high fades, Nanami pulls out of you with a soft moan, releases you, and slowly lays beside you on the blanket. You cradle one another, arms and legs loosely tangled with one another as you stare up at the glass greenhouse ceiling. You look up at Nanami, your eyes drinking in his body coated in sweat and the afterglow.

You just had sex with a man on the first date. You find yourself not regretting it at all. Nanami, catching you looking at him, turns to you and gives you a crooked smile.

“What a way to end a first date,” he breathlessly chuckles.

You take his hand in yours and press a kiss to his knuckles. “And start many more,” you add, smiling up at him. The smile he gives you is one that makes you so happy that you met him and he presses a soft kiss to your hand as well. “Definitely.”

THE END.

#nanami x y/n #nanami x fem!reader #daddy nanami #nanami x you #nanami x black!reader #nanami x black y/n #jjk smut #black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my works #black coded reader #black writers #my fic shit

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