#And getting the Mind Meld Eye Contact perfect

[tarjapearce]

What is Mama an Miguel’s fave sex position?

Jsksj omg nonny. NSFW undercut

Miguel absolutely LOVES Doggy style. Specially when he presses your head further into the mattress, muffling your cries and your ass is displayed before him in all it's glory.

He loves watching his fat cock slide in into your weeping pussy, stretching to his girth cause you feel so perfectly warm and tight for him, and he loves watching his cum rolling down your clit.

Missionary is another one of his favorite. Specially when he's feeling particularly romantic and want to enjoy you thoroughly. It's one of his favorites cause he gets to see all of your expressions while he's inside you.

He loves loves so badly when you're cupping his cheeks, mumbling how much you love eachother within blown breaths and pants as he wraps your legs around his waist. Eye contact is a MUST. He'll kiss you nonstop until you look at him in the eyes. And he can cradle you as you come undone underneath him.

He relishes into feeling your despair for him. That consuming need only he sates, leaving you both begging for air, disheveled and his front strands colliding against your forehead. It's so intimate. And you calling him Mi amor in that sweet moaning voice during?

He really means it when he tells that you have no idea the things you do with his mind.

The Spider. C'mon. What a better position to have him underneath you just for him to see how well you take him? And when you're extra needy, he'd lean back and enjoy the show, looking how well you fuck yourself to him and talking you through it. Controlling the pace.

Reverse Cowgirl cause, yeah, it morphs into doggy style. Plus he just lose it as soon as he sees your ass jumping and bouncing ontop of him, taking him like a champ. He loves watching the size of his hands groping and squeezing your ass.

When he's extra needy and kinky, He'd slap any surface he can reach while plumbing your insides, specially when you beg him to not be gentle.

As for Mama, needless to say, Mama loves it rough, but also enjoys a good vanilla from time to time.

Mating press is on the top list cause you love feeling the teasing stretch of Miguel inch by inch as he delves inside. His 6'9" caging you completely in his strong frame makes your orgasm mind shattering. Some even have you laughing like a total fool while he renewes your walls white.

The Prone Bone, works wonders, specially if you're tired but in need of your beefy man to rearrange your guts, specially after a stressful day on both ends. He loves when you're biting either the pillow or sheets

Flatiron is your own version of the missionary. Having such a fine man as your husband to talk both the sweetest things and pure filth in your ear while he smothers you with his body, specially when he cradled and embraces you to then bite your earlobe, and sets the pace for a slow and torturing tempo.

You live for his whimpers and wanton moans as you squeeze him, making your walls to snug him in a Pompoir choke. He can feel everything, and so do you.

Hearing him a moaning and grunting mess above you makes your imagination and senses to soar in delight.

The L, is perfect to have your insides well plowed and milked while Miguel kisses your ankle and thigh. Plus, it grants you a good clit massage from your husband.

You're somehow flexible, given Miguel's size, your muscles have accustomed to his manhandling and melding.

Against the wall? Of course. Having no room to breath properly while he fucks the daylights out of you is simply delicious and oh so kinky if you're doing it in the laundry room, mouth covered and hoping that Gabi doesn't knock on.

The thrill of being absolutely quiet to the point of your pussy and it's continuous 'zrup-ing' noises were heard every time he slid in, was matchless.

His neck was full of bites and his chest adorned with little hickeys. His back with delicious scratches, he wore proudly underneath his button shirt.

Whenever you used sweaters or pants, meant that he had left your inner thighs marked with either his own share of lovebites and fangs grazing. Only to remove your clothes at night to admire his handiwork and look for new places to put them in.

#miguel o'hara #t writes✨ #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #soccer family ⚽🕷️ #miguel o'hara smut #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara x y/n #spiderman 2099 imagine #spiderman 2099 smut

[theostrophywife]

i know you’re taking soft az requests, but since your writing is ✨immaculate✨ and it’s christmas, i was wondering if i could request some filthy wingplay with az as a Christmas gift (perhaps with az being a bit of a sub for his mate 👀) again, love your writing 🫶🫶

all mine.

author's note: wing play and sub!az coming right up. highly recommend listening to this song which served as my inspiration for this smutty goodness. warning: smut under the cut.

"I want to be in control tonight."

Those seven little words unleashed some deep, primal need within the shadowsinger. Azriel couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. He was so accustomed to being the dominant one in the bedroom that the thought of relinquishing control never crossed his mind, but as you gently pushed him onto the mattress, Azriel quickly found himself warming up to the idea.

The Winter Solstice celebration may have come to an end hours ago, but the sight of you straddling his waist whilst wearing nothing but a skimpy set of black lingerie felt like a gift in and of itself. Just as he reached out to touch you, Azriel felt a crackle of magic snake up his forearms. The glowing, scarlet threads looped through his wrists and gently pulled each of his arms on opposite ends of your bed.

A wicked smirk tugs at your lips as you unbuckle his belt. "You can look all you want, but you don't get to touch until I give you permission. Do you understand, Azriel?"

Cauldron fucking boil him. The shadowsinger could only muster a nod, his hazel eyes glowing golden with lust as he watched you undress him. You settled on his right thigh and the warmth of the skin to skin contact elicited a whine out of his pretty lips. Azriel wanted to devour you, but he knew that he had to be patient.

The shadowsinger was entirely at your mercy. You smile to yourself before pressing openmouthed kisses along the hard planes of his ridiculously sculpted abs, humming in pleasure as you nipped and licked at his chest, collarbone, and neck. His golden brown skin shimmered in the moonlight and he tasted like sweat and sin against your tongue. You flicked it against his shoulder before lightly grazing your teeth along the column of his throat. Azriel arched into your touch as you playfully sucked at the sensitive spot just below his right ear. He turned his head to catch your lips, but you tilted his chin and shook your head.

"Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want."

The Illyrian warrior swallowed thickly as his pink tongue swiped through his bottom lip. His eyes were bottomless depths of desire, framed by those thick, long lashes that kissed the tops of his perfect cheekbones. You swiped your thumb across his full, pouty lips and sighed in appreciation. Your mate was just so fucking pretty.

"Kiss me," Azriel says breathlessly. You raised an amused brow and the shadowsinger actually shied under your gaze. "Please."

The neediness in his voice makes the arousal shoot straight to your head. As much as you loved it when Azriel took charge, this submissive side of him was absolutely fucking irresistible. You liked teasing out his desperation and reveled in the power and hold that you had over your mate.

"Since you asked so nicely," you murmured against his neck before pressing your lips to his.

You could taste Azriel's desperation in the kiss, his lips perfectly melding with yours as you run your fingers through his soft, dark locks. The shadowsinger moans into your mouth as you slip your tongue between his parted lips, sighing in satisfaction as you press your chest against him. Azriel forgets about the restraints on his arms and tries to touch you, but your magic only tightens against his wrists.

"I want to touch you."

"So needy for me, aren't you Az?" you kiss him softly, pecking at the corner of his mouth as your mate whines. "Be a good boy and lie back and I'll think about letting you touch me."

Azriel nods, looking up at you as you push him back against the pillows. "I'll be good, I promise. I just want to please you, mistress."

The smirk that snakes across your pretty face was purely predatory. Azriel knew he was really in for it now.

"Is that so?" you ask with a wicked grin. "And if it pleases your mistress to play with your wings? Will you stay still and let me have your way with you?"

The shadowsinger was dizzy with pleasure. "Yes. Play with me. Use me as your toy. I'm at your mercy, mistress."

You kissed Azriel's cheek, murmuring your approval. Your hands slide over his broad shoulders before skirting up the red and gold membrane shimmering at his back. As he released a shaky breath, you ran a fingertip over the sensitive membrane. Those dark, powerful wings flared at your touch and Azriel groaned with pleasure. The guttural sound made the arousal pool in your panties and you quickly slipped out of the lacy material before settling onto Azriel's thigh. As you continued to trace patterns at his back, you rocked your hips against his leg, moaning softly as the friction rubbed against your clit deliciously.

The shadowsinger sucks in a deep breath, groaning as your slick covers his lap, the squelching sound filling the room as you greedily ride his thigh. You continued your feather light touches, twirling your pointer finger around the sharp talon at the apex of his wings. Leaning forward, Azriel watched you with curiosity while you placed open mouthed kisses along the membrane. His eyes nearly disappeared into the back of his head while you rolled your hips into him again. The way that you were using him as your own personal plaything was so fucking hot. You getting yourself off on his thigh was enough to get him off. Add the overstimulation to his wings and he was a ruined male.

Azriel knew he wasn't going to last any longer. The soft, gasping pants the shadowsinger was emitting sounded like music to your ears. Azriel had never felt anything like this before. It was earth-shattering and his sanity was being broken into pieces with every tender caress.

"Fuck, I'm so close." His head fell against the crook of your shoulder as pleasure racked through his entire body. "Please, mistress. Can I cum?"

"Not until you're inside me."

A string of curses fell from Azriel's lips as the restraints on his arms came undone. His aching cock throbbed as you pumped him with your right hand before lining him up at your entrance. You were wet, absolutely fucking soaking as you sank down onto his length. He wanted so badly to grip your hips and guide you over his cock, but he knew better than to disobey your command.

His patience was rewarded as you took a scarred hand and let him palm your breast. "Touch me, Azriel. I want to feel your hands all over me while I ride you."

Your mate didn't hesitate in obliging your request. His hands found refuge in your skin, greedily cupping your breasts, your ass, your soft tummy before settling against the hollow of your throat. He squeezed gently, applying just the right amount of pressure than he knew you liked as you rolled your hips into him. It was heavenly and he savored every moan, breath, whine that escaped from his mate's mouth. You were so fucking perfect. He would've ripped the stars out of the sky for you if you'd asked.

Azriel loved your body. He worshipped every inch—kissing, nipping, and sucking at whatever he could get his mouth and hands on while you ride out the pleasure together.

The fog of lust only thickened as he pressed you against his chest, rutting deeper into you as you grind down on his cock. You gently rake your fingers over his wings, tracing a dizzying pattern onto the leathery membrane while you took him in deeper and deeper. For a brief second, your eyes met and you held his gaze while you wrapped your lips around the sharp talon. You sucked lightly, careful not to cut the inside of your mouth with the razor sharp claw. Azriel groaned, feeling his release within his grasp as your pretty little cunt flutters and tightens around his length, keeping him buried deep within your walls.

"Do you wanna cum, baby?" you cooed, pushing back the locks that had fallen over Azriel's eyes.

"Yes, mistress. Please let me cum."

"Cum inside of me, Azriel. I want to feel you filling me up."

The words sent him over the edge, his balls tightened, his cock throbbed, and his seed pumped inside of you as Azriel bit down on your shoulder. The orgasm thoroughly rocked through every fiber of his being. Azriel spent himself on you, burying himself in your hair, your skin, your scent.

You coaxed him through the pleasure, murmuring sweet nothings into his ear as tears pooled at the corner of his eyes from the sheer intensity of the orgasm.

"You did so well, Az. Such a good pet for his mistress. I'm not done with you yet. You're all mine, baby. You belong to me. All fucking mine."

Azriel looked like a dream, his sex hair mussed and tousled, those golden eyes wide and entranced, and those pink, pouted lips parting in agreement as he obediently nods.

"I'm all yours."

#OH MY GOD #i did not know i needed sub!az in my life until now #thank you nonny #azriel #azriel smut #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel/reader

[trensu]

I doubt there's much overlap between the stranger things fandom and the magnus archives but frankly, i dont think there's enough horror in stranger things. Which is surprising when you consider the source material. So i've been having Thoughts about the Fears and their avatars.

I'm turning everyone into monsters, is what I'm saying.

Steve would be a perfect candidate for avatar of the Corruption. He achingly wants to be loved. He needs to be Loved. He's been so alone for so long and he just wants someone to stay, so of course the Corruption would welcome him to its domain. The insect thing doesn't work for him though. Or at least I couldn't think of any insect that would mesh well with his whole thing.

Then I remembered that Robin is terrified of rabies, and there isn't a Steve without a Robin, who is also someone who desperately wants to be loved for who she is. Obviously their connection to Filth wouldn't lie with insects. They'd be disease. So Corruption avatars Steve&Robin (always always Steve&Robin) would have fever bright eyes, skin damp with sweat, cheeks somehow both flushed and sallow, and lips cracked dry and red. They're always in contact somehow: leaning against one another, standing with arms pressed close, pinkies hooked together. Constant contact. When they're still for long enough, their skin starts to ooze and meld so they could be closerclosertogether.

Things get truly horrifying, however, if they're ever forced apart. They become rabid things, violently agitated and foaming at the mouth. They infect anybody who gets in their way. It's a horrible way to die, burning with fever, fear, and confusion as skin and muscles spasm hard enough slough off bones. Anyone who dares stand between them doesn't live for long.

Steve&Robin have their own collection of statements at the Usher Foundation. In fact, Hawkins, Indiana is of great interest for the Usher Foundation because of the number of avatars present in such a small population. Because you have Steve&Robin collecting fear for the Corruption, but there is also Nancy who is a prolific avatar of the Hunt.

When the Usher Foundation first started studying Hawkins, they had Nancy pegged for Beholding. They had, in fact, been preparing to recruit her after she graduated. But hers was not a need to Know; she was never content to simply Watch. She needed to track down leads, she needed the chase. The Usher Foundation knew they lost her completely when she discovered the use of guns. She Hunted criminals and monsters now to help rid the world of evil. Or so she tells herself, even when the story she finds doesn't always paint her victims as monstrous as she wants others to believe.

Then there's Eddie. Eddie Munson grew up knowing people would hurt him for the crime of existing, given half the chance. Poor terrified Eddie, always running, because deep down he knew he was destined for a cruel and painful death. There was no escaping it no matter how fast he ran or how often he hid, the End was waiting for him.

When his time finally came, he was out of his mind with fear because he didn't want to die oh god please not yet, pleaseplease he doesn't want to die. It was such pure delicious Fear that the End made an offer and Eddie grabbed it with both hands in a white-knuckled grip. He's not a murderer; he doesn't have to be because everyone dies regardless, and the End is patient. But he's always there with the End's victims. He's the last thing they see - eyes black as the emptiness of death and a bone white smile - and the last thing they hear is his summation of their pathetic, meaningless lives and the endless emptiness that will follow. Every narration finishes with the gleeful proclamation of "and so Ends the life of..." And it's always gleeful because though Eddie's's destined for the End as much as anyone else, his is not today.

(We could probably include some steddie here; I'm sure some of Steve&Robin's victims were more afraid of the End than the Corruption so Eddie would show up whenever Steve&Robin were on a rampage. Steve likes to listen Eddie narrate the gruesome deaths. He liked it even more when Eddie was done and he would let Steve reel him close.

Eddie, Steve would rasp, ravenous for him, love me. Eddie, love me, lovemeloveme and Eddie would let him press skin to moist hot skin, dry lips chafing against Eddie's cool wet mouth. Eddie would say, yes Steve, always, love you. Steve would press in harder, trying to fuse them into one, more Eddie please please love me more. Eddie would reply with equally hungry fervor every time, yes yes, love you with all of me, i love you just you. God, but Steve reveled in it; it almost filled the starving, bottomless pit of his sickly pounding heart.

Eddie loved it when Steve got clingy. The sheer physicality of his need tethered Eddie against the constant terror the lingered in the edges of his mind where the shadow of the End haunted him. Eddie poured his adoration out through a whispered soliloquy into Steve's ear, detailing how the Corruption was slowly killing him, how he would die from it but that Robin would die with him, they'd leave the world together, and Eddie would be at his side, hands sinking into his spongy, diseased flesh as he held Steve in his final hours. Steve let out the softest, sated sigh every time Eddie did this.

Eddie hopes that when the End finally claims him, it would be through Steve's rotting kiss; a terrible death, he knew, but what bliss it would be to let the affliction of Steve consume him entirely).

Around the same time Eddie reached his awakening, Chrissy Cunningham heard the siren call of the Flesh. It was fascinating, the way she manifested as avatar. She hated her body, was disgusted by it, and this was reinforced my her mother. No matter how little she ate or how often she purged herself, it was never enough until one day she discovered that her hands burned like stomach acid when she touched her body. And like acid, she could suddenly melt and pull her skin like taffy. It hurt, it burned like nothing else she's ever felt but she could finally make her body as skinny and insubstantial as her mother and the rest of the world always wanted it to be.

Her very first victim was her mother. She dug her hands deep into the belly of the woman her birthed her into an imperfect being, and shifted and molded the flesh until she was just as beautiful as she forced Chrissy to be. She threw the extra unnecessary pounds of organs and fat and splintered bone in a heap to the side. She would find use for it later, as more and more victims were drawn to her and her promises to help them find the body they always wanted.

She took joy in the screams of agony she inspired every time she helped someone through a transformation. And once she started pulling someone apart, she never stopped, no matter how much they begged for mercy, until her masterpiece was complete. Because she knows she can make them more gruesomely beautiful and that's worth all the pain they'll feel for the rest of their existence.

In this world, Jonathan never meets Argyle. He was never going to meet Argyle because the fog of the Lonely seeped into his lungs and mind when he was young and never left. His was a curious case, according to the researchers at the Usher Foundation. There was really no reason for the Lonely to have called to him. Yes, he had a verbally abusive father but his mother's love and protective dedication paired with his love for his little brother should've been enough to ward him against it.

Instead, he actively sought solitude from his peers; he would take pictures of them from afar, relishing their distance. The Usher Foundation got some of his photos and noticed that somehow they always depicted the subject slightly blurred and completely alone no matter if they'd been in the middle of a crowd when the picture was taken. He'd send the photos to their subjects sometimes. It had an intriguing effect. The subjects became hyperaware of how Lonely existence truly was. The photos of them became clearer the longer they stared into them; and the sharper their images became, the more the victims faded from existence until finally only a photo of a nameless forgotten person remained.

Jonathan's love for his brother manifested in teaching him how to be Alone, encouraging a pursuit of solitary entertainments like painting. Will's paintings soon became nothing but empty landscapes. Will would wander quiet and unseen to galleries to put them up where people could see them. A specific type of person would be drawn to them. They'd come back to them over and over until they were trapped in those dreary landscapes, doomed to never see another person; to be utterly Forsaken forevermore.

The Usher Foundation is eager to see if the Byers Brothers would become the American equivalent of the Lukas family. Or perhaps the Sinclair siblings would build a family empire to the Web. The younger one, Erica, had a need for control that surpassed anyone her age. She somehow always managed to get her way no matter what situation she found herself in. Meanwhile her brother seemed happy to let others take the lead. He always complied to his sister's commands eventually, though he chafed against her bossy bratty behavior.

He much more happily complied to the demands of one Max Mayfield. They were an odd combination, and were being closely watched by the Usher Foundation to figure out how they worked. Max spent her whole life afraid of the nonsensical violence posed by her stepfather and stepbrother. She was afraid of how they hurt her mother, of how she specifically was targeted by her stepbrother. But then her stepbrother redirected his violence to Lucas Sinclair and Max snapped. Baying for blood, she had taken her skateboard and beat her stepbrother to death.

The Slaughter was not picky when it came to violent murders, so it was confusing that she didn't immediately turn to make Lucas suffer the same fate. Instead she had taken her stepbrother's car and driven back home, where she then took the tire iron and beat both her stepfather and mother until they were nothing but bloody masses of pulp. The Web-touched Sinclairs were able to shift attention and blame so Max got away with it with none the wiser. The Web and Slaughter were nearly opposite sides of the Fear spectrum, and their avatars were never seen together. Yet the Sinclairs and Mayfield were inseparable from that day forward.

Finally there was Dustin Henderson, but the Foundation wasn't worried about him. His thirst for Knowledge has already put many lives at risk on multiple occasions, and not once has he felt any regret afterwards. He always got the Knowledge he wanted, after all. He was of the Eye, through and through. The Usher Foundation already has a scholarship and internship in reserve for him when he graduates high school.

a full fledged fic (well, a WIP technically) is being posted on ao3 here

#tma #the magnus archives #smirke's fourteen #the usher foundation #stranger things #steve harrington #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #eddie munson #jonathan byers #will byers #erica sinclair #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #chrissy cunningham #max mayfield #steddie #platonic stobin #lumax #trensu tells stories #can you tell that this is utterly self indulgent? #god i love fear avatars #i just HAD to turn these characters into monsters #i HAD to #this was so much fun #cw: body horror #idk what other content warnings to include tbh #its mostly just body horror i think #eta: now with its own special tag and a wip posted on ao3! #haunted hawkins

[mossmurdock]

Toxic gfs please 😖

TOXIC GIRLFRIENDSSSSSS

anon, my love, my world, how could i see this without immediately thinking about mei mei??

i was literally thinking about this ask all day, so a lot crossed my mind!! but what i really ended up latching onto was a childhood friends sort of au (v canon divergent)

obvs, i feel like having any sort of relationship with mei mei that lasts this long is going to turn sort of twisty and complicated. she's so honest about her greed, and i feel there's def an always present insecurity surrounding the reader concerning their value to her. not a pressing one, but one that's simply there. addressed so rarely that it's become dust covered and logical.

the tests start off small, like her asking you to do certain tasks for her. little acts of service like grabbing her snacks for lunch, or doing her work, or offering your gym clothes when she forgets her own. the people around you call you a pushover and a doormat. but things have always been this way, and the benefits are so easily identifiable.

she's kind to you. and despite what everyone else says, you're aware that once you turn your back that it's hypocrisy that fuels their attitudes, because it's your shoulder bumping against mei mei's when the two of you leave the room.

you're turned golden with the connection. she's always had midas on her side, tucked into her lashes, her teeth, her nails, any part of her that she can drag along your skin.

it's a hot summers day when she brings you out to an abandoned train track. she's brought you to the edge of a thicket. the old rusting tracks look like they're the ageing borders to another world.

something in your stomach croaks as mei mei playfully balances along the steel rail. your feet remain carefully planted into the loose gravel. the sound of hollow metal and rock clashing against each other is a pleasant one. despite your subconscious unease, you briefly close your eyes and take in the warm air around you as she reaches out to grab onto your hand whenever she misplaces her balance.

she brought you out here to celebrate getting through another year together. your ears had burned at her words: together. so much implication behind such a simple word. you found your mind running as she brought you out without any other explanation. it wouldn't matter as long as you were together. as long as you were there whenever she threatened to tip over while treading along the thin metal beneath her with her arms splayed out like an elegant bird's.

the thicket walks along with you both, never ending in its length. just as mei mei hops off the rails and stops walking, you wonder just how she stumbled upon this place.

"we're here." she circles you languidly as your steps also slow.

"here?" you question dryly as she stands behind you.

you're facing the thicket head on now, eyes sucked into a whirlpool of sameness and obscurity. the endless and thick lanes of bark all mold into something foreign. the birds have ceased to chirp. something rancid seems to waft out of its clearing, like a gaping mouth that's feasted and starved.

"yes," mei mei whispers. her mouth is dangerously close to your ear.

she rests her head on your shoulder lightly, staring up at you with a look you've seen a thousand times before.

your head rests against hers, leaning into the touch.

"what is it?" you ask. eager, and perfectly pliant.

she chuckles softly, raising her hands to block your vision. they act as a blindfold, though her palms seem softer than any fabric.

"a surprise," she answers cheekily.

she makes contact with your skin, completely darkening your vision. your senses frenzy as one is dampened. for a moment, all you're able to register is mei mei's body against yours.

there's the faint chance of her perfection melding into whatever it is you've made of yourself.

the chance is however eradicated by the sudden rise of a rank smell. it oppresses the other scents around you so strongly that the feeling of it sliding down your throat has you choking on your own breath and spit.

with the loss of your sight, the rot in the air grows heavy with every passing second, stalking its blind prey.

your expression twists beneath mei mei's palms and she seems to feel the shift of every muscle in your skin. her fingers separate from themselves slowly, allowing light to creep into your vision through her command and nothing else.

what hobbles across the train tracks turns the spit in your mouth rancid.

what you can only identify as a discoloured mound of flesh and teeth writhes between the thick trunks of the thicket ahead of you. its skin gleams with bright and volcanic cysts, oozing the smell of rotten and overly ripened fruit.

"mei—"

"shh," she hushes. her lips are so close that they're able to graze your ears now, her breath fanning across your face. she smells sweet, like lollipops.

"just look," she demands. her voice progressively becoming shrouded by the caws of birds

her hands have hardened around your skin and if you weren't so frozen by fear you would recognize the testing and prodding of her fingertips. they try to spot any flaking, any fools gold feathered across you.

when she finds nothing, when your feet remain planted into the ground and you remain in her clutches, when you mold and gouge against her instead of crumbling, mei mei finds herself smiling.

she turns your body towards her just as crows manically dive into the monster and begin to merge each other into a pool of unidentifiable gore.

you've gone weak in the knees, but she catches you, still grasping you by your soft cheeks. the fear in your eyes glints against the excitement of hers as her thumbs brush the sweat and tears off your face.

there's a sort of ownership in her hold that's never felt safer to you before now.

#this was really helpful to explore her character a bit more!! if anyone thinks differently about the way im interpreting her so far pls !!!! #CONVO WITH MEEEEE i love getting different povs #esp since i havent written much for her :)) #reader constantly having to prove themselves to her...wanting to serve her as well as possible #what i think separates reader's devotion to mei mei from others (like ui's for example) is that as they both mature mei mei recognizes that #it might not only belong to her. like i see reader's loyalty here as so very vast based on how their relationship with mei mei formed them #like they don't know how else to live;;so when they meet other people they naturally fall into this sort of relationship all the time #i think she'd fight for that exclusivity ?? based on your history #she molded you into what you are. why would it belong to anyone else?? #also she'd sorta be in denial about how codependent the relationship actually is #AGH IDK THIS IS VERY PRONE TO CHANGING BECAUSE IM STILL GETTING TO UNDERSTAND HER CHARACTER A BIT MORE #take what i say here with a grain of salt #thank u so much for the ask! #i hope u enjoy this!!! sorry i got so carried away LMAO #moss answers #moss writes

[onthesandsofdreams]

A Dream Passion

Fandom: The Sandman (TV) Pairing: Dream of the Endless x Fem!Reader Summary: "Do you remember?" The voice whispers in your dreams. Insistent and deep, with a slight hint of desperation. Rating: Explicit (to be safe) Words: 1033 Notes: Boy. First time writing something as explicit as this, so, please be kind. Also, this fic is for my big sister @mousedetective, hope you like it, because I’m trying to write smut, which is something as you know, doesn’t come easy to me. Soulmate AU / Witch Reader. Warnings: Unprotected sex. PIV sex Prompt(s): #8.- Do you remember? from @fictober-event 

Read @ AO3

"Do you remember?" The voice whispers in your dreams. Insistent and deep, with a slight hint of desperation.

You groan. The hands that are currently running all over your body are sending shivers all over. The mouth that explores you is drawing happy sounds of pleasure. Your hands turn into fist, hanging into the silken sheets as the man slides down until he arrives at your core.

"Do you remember? Do you remember me yet, my love?"

Truth is, you don't remember him. If you had met before you would be sure you'd never forget such a handsome man. Not when he is like darkness personified, stars for eyes and dressed in black. Should you know him? There is something there, in the back of your head and your heart  and soul that screams that yes, you know him.

You're about to speak when strong hands part your legs wider and a firm tongue makes contact with your clit. Whatever you're about to say, it gets lost in the cries of pleasure that the man between your legs is drawing from you. His strong hands are keeping your legs apart, making it easier for him to explore you at his leisure.

One of your hands leaves the sheets and tangles in his wild hair, doing your best to push him further into you. "I need..." even with your mind clouded with pleasure, you sound breathless. 

He stops, "Yes? Tell me what you need, my love?"

"You. Please. Take me."

The man hums, quite pleased with your request. "Very well. If you want me, you shall have me. Who am I to deny my Queen?"

You're not a Queen, but you don't have time to deny that as, with one swift motion he has buried deep inside of you. You keen, he fills you so well. Like two puzzle pieces connecting at long last. Your chest feels heavy, your heart is loud and you can hear the rush of blood in your ears. Time stands still as the man above you does not move, but lowers himself enough that there is no space between your bodies.

The kiss he gives you is deep, and you moan into his mouth when he finally starts moving. And it is utter bliss.

He is both gentle and loving one moment, the next, it is as if he were a man dying to meld your bodies together that neither of you could tell where one ends and the other starts. You kiss him fiercely and devour the deep groans and growls that make their way out of his mouth. 

You only part when the need for air becomes to much. The world outside of this bedroom may be quiet and dark, but in the privacy of this bedroom, the sounds of flesh meeting flesh and the sounds of pleasure are like a song, like music to your ears.

Pleasure only grows and grows. Your hands exploring his back, clinging to his surprisingly strong shoulders. Leaving a trail of kisses on his neck. "Oh God, you feel amazing."

His mouth also explores you as much as it can, but he leaves marks behind. "Mine." He growls. Both hands resting on your butt, lifting up to find another angle. He knows he found the perfect spot when you keen and scratch at his back.

"Please, I'm close..." you manage to speak through the fog of pleasure. "So close."

You don't need to say more, for the moment those words have left your mouth, one hand leaves your butt, finds your clit and begins a soft massage that heightens your pleasure all the more. "Yes, please..."

"Mine." He growls into your ear. "Say that you are mine."

"I'm... yours." And you're close, so very, very close. "Yours."

He growls and you shiver, you're about to fall to the precipice when he speaks again. "Say my name. Remember it and say it out loud."

Your mind is clouded with pleasure, but with one more thrust and and pressure on your clit and you're falling down a precipice of pleasure, "Morpheus!" You scream, not even caring if the name is right or not.

"Good, you remember me." One more thrust and then you can feel him filling you. "My love, my Queen." He groans as he continues to ride out his pleasure.

You sigh, your walls still clenching and enjoying the bliss. Your eyes feel heavy with sleep and you wrap your arms around him and kiss the head that has come to rest on your chest. You play with his hair and he purrs in contentment. You loose track of time as you both remain wrapped around each other until you drift off to sleep.

*

"Morpheus!" You call into the empty room as you bolt upright. Light is filtering in through your curtains, and your bed is empty.

But you know that just wasn't a normal wet dream.

That is when it all comes back to you. Of the dozens of lives lived, of the many loving nights you and Morpheus spent together and the promise that you two would find each other in the next life. In that moment you know that you have to find him. He is part of your soul. Not only that, but your soulmate.

"Morpheus. I remember. If you're listening to me. Come to me."

But he does not.

That is when dread fills you. That is when you know that something is not right. That you got to find him. Because you know that if he had been able to, he would have materialized in your room the very moment you had said that you remembered who you were. What you both were to each other.

You will do everything in your power to find him so you two can be together again. And heaven help anyone who had harmed him, because witches like you could be hell when angered, fortunately, you had time. This life had blessed you into being born to a family of long-lived witches and wizards.

"Morpheus, I'll find you. I promise you that and we'll be together again. Hold on. I'm coming my beloved King. I'm coming, my dearest Dream."

#fictober22 #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless #reader insert #the sandman fic #pre canon fic #au: witches & wizards #au: soulmates #the sandman

[flying-ryan]

“I fookin hate sharing,” Ryan grumbled, pushing Luca’s knees farther apart and more roughly than was strictly necessary. It had been too long. He felt like he was on fire and the only thing that might quench his thirst was to be buried as deep as he could get inside of his boy. And Luca’s all-too willingness to help it happen only spurred the grizzled pilot’s burning desire.

“S’just you and me now.” Luca’s words were almost breathless, gasped half into the older man’s mouth as he shamelessly lapped at the boy’s pink tongue, and half against the fuzz of his beard when Ryan bent to bite and then suck at a small patch of Luca’s neck with every intent of leaving bruises. Luca’s small, soft hands stretched and pulled at every part of Ryan he could reach. His legs curled around his lover, his body arching into each touch - both of them instinctively searching out the maximum amount of contact and sweet friction.

Ryan growled low words of wanting against the planes of Luca’s warm skin while thrusting their leaking cocks together, squished between their bellies with the boy’s perfect fingertips ghosting over the pilot’s thick head every now and again. “I need you, LT.”

The pilot withdrew himself, hating every millimeter he had to put between them before grabbing Luca’s thighs to pull him into position. “Look at me now, boy,” the pilot growled, low and breathless as bright blue melded into soft brown. “Dinnae look away from me until I’ve cum in yer guts, do ye understand?” Luca whimpered, nodding a serious acknowledgement and forcing to keep his eyes from fluttering shut when his lover’s warm, wet tongue slid over his hole. Ry teased him. Peppering soft kisses over the smooth, tight skin of Luca’s perfect sack, tracing little patterns along the sensitive ridges of Luca’s throbbing cock with his crooked nose, dipping a thick finger to collect a glob of Luca’s precum only to feel his control start to crack when the boy’s soft tongue swirled the tip of Ryan’s finger. He was suddenly so achingly aware of the lack of warmth around his dick and the impossible distance that wasn’t but somehow always felt between them every moment they were not physically joined. It was a small frustration. He’d wanted to take his time with Luca. He didn’t pay the boy’s cock enough attention. He wasn’t even sure if Luca knew how much Ryan was literally in love with his soft, smooth balls. He’d stuck his cock in Luca’s ass more times than he could count but lately he couldn’t get his mind off getting his tongue in there for a better taste too. “Need you too, Luc.”

“Take me,” Luca breathed. It wasn’t a request, or even a demand. It was a fact of life. One of nature’s infinite mysteries, two puzzle pieces needing so desperately to return to something like whole.

Ryan hummed a serious acknowledgement against Luca’s hole, licking and slurping (and throbbing and aching) just to spit the sloppy mess back onto the boy’s puckered entrance before moving to line himself up. Luca listened well. He had not stopped looking. The pilot himself didn’t do as well. His eyes couldn’t stay away from the sight of his massive member, shiny and slick between the boy’s smooth, round cheeks.

“Please, Daddy.” Luca’s hands clawed at the pilot’s fuzzy chest. “Please, Daddy, I need you to fuck me. I need you to take what’s yours.”

“Gods fucking damn it, boy,” the pilot growled, a genuine bit of fury at the sheer force of his desire. Some parts of him wanted to fuck Luca so hard the boy wouldn’t walk again. And even then he wasn’t sure he’d feel satisfied. He didn’t believe he’d ever feel satisfied when it came to getting enough of his boy. Ryan bit back his groan when he grabbed his dick, stroking the foreskin back to reveal the full length of his shiny, mushroom head, before lining himself up to sink home. Luca’s soft cries pulled Ryan’s eyes back. Luca was still watching him. “That’s my good boy,” he purred, doing his damndest to fill Luca slowly instead of slamming his cock home the way every fiber of his body screamed to. “You feel so fookin good, boy. You take me so fooking well.”

“More,” Luca pleaded, still doing his best to pull Ryan closer. “Need more of you Daddy.”

It took Ryan’s breath away. He’d never loved, never wanted, never NEEDED, anything half as much. “You got all of me, Luca,” he finally breathed with his dick fully buried in the boy’s impossibly tight ass. The pilot’s tattooed hands drifted to hold Luca’s dick, swiping a thumb over the gathering wetness to pop it into the boy’s mouth again with a satisfied hum of approval. Ryan held Luca’s hungry gaze while he spit into his hand and onto Luca’s cock and adjusted his own thighs to use his hands in time with his thrusting hips. “Now I want you to cum for Daddy, pretty boy.”

#dodododo nothing to see here #i was hijacked #hes been dying to get to luca

[pep-the-artemis]

How would I improve the latest Doctor Who episode the Star Beast.

I've been talking a lot of smack so here is how I'd improve the episode. I'll try to minimise the changes as much as possible. Note, I'm not really doing this as an attach on the writer Russel T Davids, he's a titan of the writing world even though I don't think this is his best work. I did this as a petty jab at my brother and also because it was a fun writing exersive and I feel I've learnt a lot and improved as a writer from attempting this challenge.

Spoilers Ahead

I'm going to start with character changes

The Meep should be mute and communicate through body language (telepathically in select scenes). Also I'd redesign them to look more like an animal like a lynx/panther with a scorpion-esque tail it can use like an arm/weapon. I think this should strike a good balance of making them feel real, alien, and emotive. Their movement should be slow and controlled with strong unbreaking eye contact to give the impression they're much smarter than they let on to be.

Rose should be much younger, around seven-ish. I feel this helps a lot with the story including,

How her family is constantly coddling and trying to protect her.

How she immediately trusted the Meep.

The stuffed animals foreshadowing with little adjustment I feel becomes much stronger and meld more naturally into the plot.

I also think it will greatly help the audience sympathise with her and younger trans representation is uncommon in the BBC especially when compared to how common teenage trans-girl are respectively.

The aliens hunting the Meep should just be replaced by the Judoon. Nothing more to say, they are just a worse version.

Hypnotised soldiers are such an overused trope, get rid of them entirely.

The sonic screwdriver can not break brick walls or create shields because that's dumb. It can keep the UI, didn't mind that change.

I’m giving the random kid more screen time.

Apart from these, no major character changes.

Synopsis

Although not perfect, I'm not changing anything up to Rose meeting Meep. The introduction of the Meep should be in darkness and not give a good view of it. The scene should put emphasis on the creature's size being rather large. Also, the conversation Rose had with the kid should be extended giving more spotlight to the kid. From the Doctor's perspective, this is when he introduces the dagger drive and its dangers.

At this point, six Judoon arrive teleporting around the spaceship causing a fight to break out between the soldiers and the Judoon. Soldiers are going to die here since Judoon don't use stun guns. At this point, there are real stakes with conflict and it's rewarding for fans who are going to piece together the plot.

Getting caught in the crossfire, the Doctor and Bingham, knowing the Judoon, will try to stop the fighting but fail due to being overruled by the arrogant captain. The loss of control is an innate human fear and only raises the stakes.

Finding cover in an empty room, the Doctor and Bingham work together that they need to find the convict to stop the Judoon so using sonic tech and Binghams laptop (I know she uses a phone in the episode but screw product placement) they find unusual anomalies from 2 different locations (ignoring the space ship), one being in the middle of a park and the second being Nobles home causing the Doctor frustration. They decide to part ways with the Doctor going to the Noble house knowing it's no coincidence leaving Bingham to check the other anomalies.

As the Doctor rushes off partially through the combat, the shot cuts to two of the Judoon further back talking revealing that they've come to the same revelation and are beginning their advancement spreading out their forces into pairs with one pair staying by the ship.

Seeing a taxi parked by the side, the Doctor rushes over stumbling upon Shaun again who tells them he's just finished for the day and about to head home but after some convincing and the Doctor telling him Donna might be in danger he drives them both there quickly.

Cut to a scene in a little girls room, different doctor who monster-esque plushies everywhere. As the door opens, Rose speaks "shhh, you've got to be quiet, my mum doesn't allow me to have friends in my room" or words to that effect followed by Rose sneaking into her room with the much larger Meep sneaking in behind. Meep is calm and composed, slowly walking around looking around the room before positioning themselves with the window (with curtains barely open) peering down at the street below while in the background Rose is rummaging around piling up objects to stand on so she can pull down a box from the top shelf.

Pulling out a colourful plaster, she kneels down by the Meep's paw and puts the plaster over the cut on its feet. Taken from a low angled upwards shot, the Meep responds by turning its eyes down to look at its paw and then the shot cuts to a downwards shot of Rose as the Meep moves its tail and strokes the girl's head causing her to giggle.

Suddenly, they hear Donna call out and start walking upstairs. Cut to Donna walking up still talking and entering Rose' room seeing Rose sitting there trying not to look inconspicous. Annoyed by the toys all lying around, Donna begins the classic mother speech about cleaning up after yourself while picking up and putting away the toys. As this happens, the camera occasionally cuts to overhead shots from the viewpoint of Meep focusing on Donna occasionally having close up shots of her nape.

Eventually, Donna leaves and the Meep drops down elegantly and turns their head slightly to face Rose before turning back and growling at something through the window. Rose moving over to look down saw her father has returned with a strange man (the Doctor).

Cut back to the doctor, rushing over to the door unlocking it with the sonic, and barging in, attracting the attention of Sylvia who is furious seeing the doctor, rushing over and hitting him before berating him badly for returning and telling him to leave. The Doctor just wanting to get past tries to de-escalate and get past but with no avail. Sylvia eventually brings up in some form that he doesn't care about Donna causing the Doctor to get mad and lash out at her devolving the encounter into a full on argument.

Surprised, Shaun tries to calm the two people down then Donna walks over confused by the commotion causing everyone to freeze in confusion. Suddenly the sound of something breaking is heard from upstairs and the Doctor quickly rushed past evading Sylvia trying to stop him.

Rushing into the room, the doctor finds the room empty, looking around he quickly finds a bored hole in the side leading into the house next door. While scanning the hole, the cast have an aggressive conversation between them. During the conversation, the Doctor see's two Judoon have arrived. After the conversation, the Doctor tells them to go as far away as possible, the Judoon are safe if you stay out of there way as he left chasing the Meep through the hole in the wall. Donna (being Donna) and concerned for her childs follows after the Doctor asking many questions while berating him. Sylvia follows behind trying to stop Donna.

Using the sonic screwdriver to highlight a bioluminescent blood trail, the Doctor tracks the Meep through the different buildings while Donna and Sylvia continue their shenanigans shortly behind. Soon, military noises and gunfire is heard signalling Captain [insert name] men have arrived.

Cut to Meep and Rose now some distance from the home, Rose out of breath with Meep sitting with her in a car park overlooking the city. Rose proceeds to ask the Meep many questions to which it is unresponsive until she asks the question of where they're going to which the Meep turns towards the distant smoke of where their ship landed. Rose understands and remarks that they must just want to go home.

While travelling down a narrow alley not far from the home, they stumble upon Rose's friend lying there limply. Heading over they find he has a massive cut along his chest and eyes have blackened. The Doctor explains the cut must’ve contained a neurotoxin which would’ve driven him mad before melting his brain. He mentions the Judoon usually carry a selection of antidotes for these kinds of injuries but it might be too late. Sad moment.

Cut back to the Doctor still on the chase. While travelling down the same narrow alley, the Doctor's phone rings. Picking it up its Bingham, she had two pieces of news for the doctor; the first being she's found the cause of the weird energy being a weird metal looking alien contraption she didn't recognise. The Doctor notes that, from the design of the ship, he believes they're most likely an escape pod. The Doctor warns the Judoon will soon be at her location. Then comes Binghams second news, the Judoon had apprehended her.

Seeing the blood trail has ended, the Doctor asks Bingham if she still has her laptop and if she can check the locations of the anomalies. Fortunately she can but is surprised to find there are now 4 anomalies, the space ship, the escape pod, one leading towards the shape ship, and the other in the exact location of the doctor.

This confuses the doctor who pauses for a moment before he tells Bingham to transfer his call over to Captain [insert name]. Once talking to him, the Doctor tries to warn him that the real threat is approaching quickly but the Captain brushes it off bringing up how they took out the two aliens guarding the ship already (to Judoon). This angers the doctor and they argue for a bit before being cut off by the sounds of gunfire and shouting.

After putting down the phone, another confused argument sparks between the three but the Doctor quickly silences them saying they need to hurry to the crash site and either of them have a car. Evading the gunfire between the Judoon and military, they make it to the car and with the Doctor driving, rush off to the crash site. (originally they used Shaun which worked neatly but I’ve removed Shaun from the narrative due to the excessive amount of active characters so instead it's going to be either Donna’s or Sylvia’s)

Along the way, not too far from the site, they are stopped by a massive earthquake causing a commotion blocking the path. Getting out of the car, the Doctor tells them to not follow him! Not listening, Donna follows. Here is where she first refers to the Doctor by his name, Sylvia won’t audibly respond to that since the audience has ears and don’t need to be spoon fed information.

 Entering the building, the lighting is dark with harsh red lighting, the Doctor finds the rocket whirling awake plunging its dagger into the ground with dead bodies lining the floor. The Doctor, using his screwdriver against his phone, sends a distress signal out to the Judoon while saying something like “at least they now know it's here”. Seeing the raised entrance, the Doctor begins climbing the steel works around to get closer. Walking along the metal path leading up the entrance of the door, he pulls out his sonic screwdriver and uses it to open the door but as he does this the Meep (whose fur looks like silvery in the lighting) drops down attacking the Doctors hand cutting it causing him to drop his screwdriver. Now seeing the Meep for the first time he comments on its beauty. 

Fight ensues as the Meep tries to strike the doctor with its venomous tail while the doctor evades. After a bit of fighting, the Meep gets the upper hand over the Doctor when its about to hit its killing strike but before it can, Donna hits it hard with a metal pipe distracting it giving the Doctor enough time to escape and get into the control room where he begins to try and manually shut down the space ship.

This is when Donna has a major speech after remembering everything and is completely furious. While the Doctor continues onwards, his vision temporarily goes blurry as he clasps his hand in pain realising he’s been poisoned. While this is going on, Rose looking out from the cockpit see’s what's going on. Not being deterred by the poison, the doctor continues. As he tries to deactivate the machine, his vision gets worse and the pain gets worse. He’s becoming more disorientated and begins slowing down and stumbling around. He hears the voice of the Meep in his mind.

“I’m impressed, you really has the resilience of a Gallifreyan“

“You should stop resisting, it is of no use”

And other sentences of similar effects

Eventually the Doctor, panting heavily, falls down unable to continue. Seeing this, Donna rushes away from the Meep into the control room taking over, still berating him briskly mentioning how there is not even much left to do. But handling the monster and control panel isn’t easy as Donna gets thrown around, the shot is an aerial one from the perspective of Rose.

More grounded shots of Donna trying hard to deactivate the ship now clearly cut and injured by the beast before the sounds of dials being moved from above surprising the Meep looking up to see Rose using the main control panel before saying something like “you’re not very nice!”. Soon the burr of the spaceship died down as it shuts down. Defeated, the Meep gives out a loud wail, then tries to escape but gets quickly apprehended by the Judoon who have just arrived. Drawn out shots of the three characters lying there until a fade to black.

Short time skip to the three sitting around with Judoon and military walking around in the background with Bingham and a caged Meep, the doctor is sitting with a blanket around him and sitting across him is Donna bandaged up with a wrapped up, sleeping Rose in her arms. Donna asks why isn’t she dead, the Doctor explains that part of the curse [for lack of better word currently] must’ve been passed down to Rose and how this will only delay the inevitable.

From here, the same conclusion from the original is adapted to this setting with the rest of the important cast arriving.

So this is the first draft, still not 100% happy with it and definitely needs a couple redrafts (haven’t even proofread it yet).

#doctor who

[spoilertv]

#SpoilerTV

[rightsforbrunomadrigalonly]

hii, okay so if you do take requests could i get one where bruno and reader tell his family theyre going to have a baby?? and everyone is obviously happy, and everyones teasing them like "yoo when did yall do the dirty ;);)??"! just want to know how everyone would react? maybe alma would be like all proud bcs her youngest child is finally going to have a family?? thanks!!

{A/N: ✨⌛️So i really really love this idea! I think it’s kind of a good chuckle to think about. I definitely feel the Madrigal family thinks Brunos a little…incompitent to say the least when it comes to baby making. Little do they know, he’s incredibly far from clueless, he knows EXACTLY what to do and he’s pretty damn good at it for a man that’s been hiding in the walls for the last 10 years. Also I hope you don’t mind but I have been desiring to really write a good bit of fiction between Felix, Agustin and Bruno so I’m taking this request as a moment to do so! Sorry if this is short, I’ve worked a full 12 hour day and it’s very late at night but I just HAD to write this.  ALSO I GAVE MYSELF A MINI HEART ATTACK CAUSE I THOUGHT I LOST THIS REQUEST AND I WAS SO SCARED⌛️✨}

{Word Count: 1497 }

{Warning’s 🚨: None that I can think of}

La casa Madrigal was always full of so many bright and colorful faces, each one warmer and more inviting than the next. You’d never forget the first time you stepped foot over the threshold of the regarded mystical house. The feeling of being surrounded by the extraordinary making even the ordinary feel exceptional. Everything about the environment felt so enticing, a wonder waiting around every corner ready to show itself. The greatest wonder however, was the love you developed for the smallest Madrigal triplet. It was an unconventional love that blossomed into something bigger than the two of you. Small smiles and waves developed into hugs and laughs. Flustered grazes turned into weighted lingering touches, the lack of contact burning the skin where fingers once rested. The two of you had become dependent on each other, wherever one would go, the other was sure to follow. Your relationship's need for constant company became a light hearted joke around the Madrigal Mansion, if the two of you were ever caught separate a gentle tease would stir from your lover’s sisters. “Well hello stranger, you must be new here!....No you couldn’t be the same Y/N we know. The Y/N we know is only ever hanging off the back of Bruno’s ruana.”

You never took it offensively, after months of learning to navigate the families unique quirks and personalities you took their gentle jests as sign of affection. You melded into the family's beautiful blend so naturally that when the time came for you to take Bruno’s hand in wed your transition into the family felt like an ease. Every second of time that passed in that house, your arms and mind consumed by Bruno’s presence, felt like the fantasy life you’d always imagined for yourself. He was everything you could have ever asked the heavens to give you. He was kind and patient, his heart tender with a vibrant personality. His smile felt like a contagion the way it forced your own whenever it appeared on his face. Everything about your husband was perfect in your eyes, and while the rest of the village and some of the Madrigal family would disagree, nothing about the man was a fault. Not even the gift that burdened your lover’s mind and reputation felt imperfect and out of place to you. You felt content and at peace, never expecting the possibility that fate could grow your happiness further. 

Gently you place the warm smooth palm of Bruno’s gaunt hand against the temporarily flat surface of your abdomen. You could feel his emotions travel through your body as his fingertips shakily stretched across the bare flesh, his eyes not leaving the site. “A-are you sure, mi vida?”

“Yeah” you sniffled tears welding up in your eyes as you watched the man fixate on your stomach. “I-I’m positive mi amor. I know you’ll make such an amazing papa to this blessed little baby” 

You let your index and middle fingers spread as you push the curls from his face, watching as he rubs the sleeve of his ruana against his damp eyes. “I-....” he couldn’t help the overwhelming emotions in his tone as the tears rushed out faster than he could wipe them away “I didn’t think I was ever gonna deserve something like this.” 

Your heart raced as you let your hand slide to his cheek, cupping the scruffed surface with a smile. “You deserve the world mi amor. I hope I can give you everything your hearts always contented.” 

A grin played on his lips as he laid soft kisses against your palm before focusing his attention to your stomach. “You are everything I’ve always wanted.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at the sensation of his facial hair scraping and scratching the smooth surface of your abs, you gently pressing a palm to his forehead to hold him back. 

He couldn’t help the way his own lips tugged, he grunting as he pushed himself up on his feet to face you. “Mi vida, do you mind if I’m the one to tell my familia? Is that selfish to ask?”  

The way he asked for your approval was just proof of his kind considerate nature. You leant in pressing your lips against his happily. “Of course not mi amor, this is just as much your announcement as it is mine,” you chuckle gently, tapping your palm to his cheek. “Tell the family however you’d like.” 

The man was over the moon, his happiness shining through the typically trauma locked haze. His plan was to share the news simultaneously with the family, but as expected in this house, what Bruno had planned and what actually came to fruition were two different realities.  

Walking like a man on a mission through casita’s hall, the everlasting object of your heart rushed to gather la familia for his announcement. The poor unsuspecting soul had no idea of the ambush he was about to encounter as his body was halted by two large thick hands. Perplexed, his brows pinched together as the gears of thought turned in his head. “Felix…”

There was a silence between the two men, Bruno watching in confusion as the other’s mouth wriggled into a cheshire smirk. “You dog! Ah, I heard the news about you and Y/N. Way to go compadre aha! We didn’t think you had it in you! I’d ask if you enjoyed yourself but I think we both know the answer there huh?” Felix bellowed, causing Bruno’s body to shrink back in response.

“I-uh um…I don’t uh...Know what are you talking about,” the triplet fibbed, nervously rubbing at the back of his neck. 

Bruno knew he was a terrible liar, in fact the entire family knew that about Bruno…but the man was optimistic his fib would go unnoticed.

“I’m talking about the good news, the chamaco! You know you’re a terrible liar right?”

 Bruno wanted to interject and snap back with a witty remark, but before he even had the chance another pair of hands fastened onto his shoulders from behind, startling his body forward. “¡Felicidades, Manito!” 

Your lover’s body spun, his face relaxing a bit to see it was only Agustin. His shoulders shimmied trying to remove the others hands from his body with a nervous laugh. “How did you two find out about the uh, no longer surprise…surprise?”

“Delores” both men spoke in unison.

The excitement in Bruno’s eyes deflate as his lips pull into a hard slant. Figures, he should have expected that.  “Sorry she stole your thunder,” Felix chuckled, grabbing hold of his brother-in-law's torso, giving him a shake. “Turn that frown right side around! The surprise may be gone, but that doesn’t mean we don’t want to hear all about it, right Agustin?” 

“He’s right, mano e mano! Tell us about it all, come on!” the other man laughed, nudging into Bruno’s body. 

You couldn’t help but smile and laugh, watching the display across the way as you stood opposite on the balcony. Your body was congested, cover with hands all across your flat belly. You could hear the way the boys gossiped and pried for the juicy intimate details of your shared private life, your husband’s good nature trying to spare your dignity from their relentless questions. “They gossip worse than girls” you teased, glancing down at the women gathered around you. “Well…almost as much” 

A chuckle stirred from Pepa’s chest, her eyes shining up your way. “You can’t blame us for being curious. We never thought Bruno would be capable of doing something like this. We weren’t even sure if he’d touched a woman before” the redhead teased. 

You gave your eyes a subtle roll, lips pinched upwards at the corner. “Trust me, he’s VERY knowledgeable about touching a woman’s body.”

The woman squealed with laughter drawing the attention of the men across the way. “I think they’re talking about you over there” agustin laughed, Bruno’s cheeks flushing red with embarrassment.

“HEY! What are you guys laughing about over there?” your husband demanded to know, his face doing its damnedest to look intimidating. 

“Nothing mi Amor! Don’t you worry!” you tease cupping your hands around your mouth to project your voice, earning a strict look from the guardian of the Madirgal magic.     

“What is going on out here! What is all this yelling and cackling about?” She barked, demanding answers from whoever was willing to provide them.

“Tia Y/N and Tio Bruno just found out they’re having a baby.”

The elderly woman’s mouth gaped as her eyes glistened with excitement and joy. Never in a million years did she think that her Brunito would start a family of her own. “I can understand all this excitement now! Come come! Let’s celebrate!”

The windows and doors all slammed as Casita responded to the effervescent mood of the family. A celebration was definitely in order, hopefully you and your husband could get through things without too much more teasing.  

#bruno madrigal #bruno madrigal x oc #bruno madrigal x reader #encanto bruno #bruno encanto #bruno #encanto #bruno x reader

[junghelioseok]

heart-on.

↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]

❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜

notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(

You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.

“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”

“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”

“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.

“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”

You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”

Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.

“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”

“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”

You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”

“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”

“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”

Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”

You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.

“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”

If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”

You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”

“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”

You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”

“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”

“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”

“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”

Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”

She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”

///

As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.

Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.

There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.

And then your mind goes to Jay.

You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.

A lot.

The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.

“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”

You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”

“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”

A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.

And arguably, a little too well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.

“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”

That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.

“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”

Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”

You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”

The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”

“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”

“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”

You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”

The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”

One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.

Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.

He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.

“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”

Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.

“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”

You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”

Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.

“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”

“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.

“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”

Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”

You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.

And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”

You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”

Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.

“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”

Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”

You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.

“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.

The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.

“I’m guessing this is yours?”

He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”

Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.

“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”

Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”

And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.

“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.

“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”

Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”

You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”

Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.

It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”

“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.

“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”

For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”

His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”

Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.

You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”

The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.

“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”

“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.

Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”

You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”

-

The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.

And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘

It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.

Fuck.

Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.

[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?

His response is instantaneous.

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅

You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.

Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.

///

It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”

“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”

“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”

“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”

You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”

“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”

“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”

“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”

“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”

“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”

Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..

“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”

Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”

“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”

You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”

“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”

You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

///

The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.

You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.

At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.

Great.

Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.

“Need a hand?”

The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.

“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.

“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”

The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.

“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”

Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”

You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”

“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.

The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.

There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.

[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight

Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.

[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.

You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?

[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged

[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!

///

Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.

“Is she alone?”

“Figures.”

The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.

“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”

“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”

Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.

“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”

You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”

Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”

“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.

“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”

“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”

The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.

Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.

“H-hi.”

Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”

Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”

Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”

Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”

“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”

“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Definitely.”

A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.

From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”

Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.

“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”

Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”

His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”

You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.

“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”

“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yep.”

The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.

“Here’s to second meetings.”

“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.

You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.

Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.

“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”

You blink. “The verdict?”

Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”

“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”

Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am?” you challenge.

“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.

The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”

Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”

“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”

“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.

“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”

Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.

“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”

You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”

///

“Hey, you made it!”

You beam. “Hi.”

You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.

“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”

You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”

He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”

#hoseok #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #bts smut #bts scenarios #hoseok scenarios #jhope #jung hoseok #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fic #kpop scenarios #hoseok x you #strangers to lovers!au #strangers to lovers #lia writes #gonna change that stupid summary if i can think of anything better LOL #my brain went all mushy on me idk what's happening

[comfortscripts]

Hi <3

Could you do how each Marauder would kiss you for the first time? Like the confidence levels for each would be soooo different I think and just the way they'd go about it, idk but yeah

First Kiss ¬ Marauders

Of course! Honestly, I have so many thoughts but....

Also for this, I just did James, Sirius and Remus but I am willing to do other Marauder era characters (including girls) in the future.

James Potter

"Honestly James, it's embarrassing at this point. Just admit I'm the better keeper"

This had been going on for years. Both of you claiming to be the best keeper in Hogwarts, neither willing to submit. Some say it's rivalry, some say it's unresolved sexual tension but whatever it was, you and James loved it.

"Let's make this interesting, shall we?" The Gryffindor retorted with a smirk. "Whoever saves more goals during practice wins and that's the end of it."

"Okay, deal Potter but if I win, you have to stand up in the Great Hall and announce that I'm the best. Got it?"

You see the flash of fear run across his face before he responds with his same cocky smile, "And when I win, I want a kiss."

Before you could make some form of objection through your flushed cheeks, James was already in the air and prepping for the friendly competition.

You were both on fire. The pitch replicated a professional practice rather than a school-sports one but for every one he saved, you saved two. Whilst you did sometimes long to feel the Gryffindor's lips against your own, the idea of him praising you so publicly was too good to give up. And it seemed like the push worked, you won.

Landing back on solid ground, the two sweaty keepers reunited. James' couldn't even be upset at his loss when he saw your face. Pride beaming through your smile as your flushed cheeks framed it and your skin glistened. You were magnificent.

"Good game, I guess you really are the best" Offering his hand out for good sportsmanship hand shake.

Grabbing his hand and closing the space between you, now chest to chest. "I think you deserve a consolation prize for your efforts today, Potter."

The collision of your lips against his was more thrilling than any quidditch match. Pent up tension releasing in waves as you feel the bespectacled boy get over his initial shock and lean into the kiss. Lips melding and moving together, all whilst allowing your hands to grip his broad shoulders. Pulling away to regain your breath, you look up at the flustered boy as he too, steadied his breathing.

"Well, I think in some ways we both won" Joked the red and gold keeper. Causing you to giggle at his cheesy flirts.

"I guess so but you still have to do the announcement. Maybe you should wear my house colours for effec-" Before you could complete your sentence, his lips were back on yours. Not that you minded.

Sirius Black

Hogwarts was a soothing place in general but nothing could beat the astronomy tower. The atmosphere, the fresh crisp air and the silence meant that it was almost the perfect way to escape. And tonight, that's what two young Gryffindors needed.

Leaning against the brick tower, you let out a sigh of relief. Worries and fears washing from your bones as the stars shimmered in the sky and your best friend blew a puff of smoke.

"You what's crazy, the stars have seen everything. Love, happiness, life but also pain, suffering and death. Yet they still shine so brightly, it's inspiring."

Sirius was never a stranger to profound thoughts, especially on these late night excursions but this shook you. Pushing off the cold wall, you shuffle towards the dark-haired boy before sitting shoulder to shoulder and admiring the stars alongside him.

"You're right. I guess that's why you are named after a star."

You knew how much pain the boy had bundled up within himself but still, he could outshine any star in the galaxy. He had endured more pain than he could ever deserve but still managed to light up people's lives and make people feel more love than most.

Sirius swore his heart stopped at your words. His brain was telling him that it was obviously you hearing him wrong or a joke, he managed to choke out a small "What do you mean?"

Turning to look at the oblivious boy, you could almost chuckle at his adorable furrowed eyebrows and quirked smile but instead, you offered the truth.

"Sirius, you are a star. You have been through so much that I couldn't even begin to imagine but every day, you get up and make the most of life. Bringing smiles to peoples' faces, making all of us laugh with your pranks, loving your friends and protecting us no matter what. You are the impressive one and honestly, those stars pale in comparison to you."

Gazing into his eyes, you saw emotions swirling through his stormy orbs. Processing your words and conjuring up a reaction but nothing seemed right. How could he respond to you? His love for you already threated to spill out every time your eyes met but now, he worried that opening his mouth would release his confession.

As yours eyes stayed locked onto one another, neither of you noticed your bodies unknowingly leaning towards each other. Sirius notices your eyes flicker down to his lips, this was all the confirmation he needed before leaning in and meeting your supple lips.

The love that radiated off the two of you was more powerful than any spell you had learnt. Feeling the warmth spread through your being as Sirius deepened the kiss, trying to get closer. His arms wrapped around your waist as he drank in your sweet lips. You felt all the hidden emotions, all the pain and sadness of the night drift away into the distant sky.

All that mattered was you had Sirius and he had you.

Pulling away only to find yourselves lovingly embracing the other, protecting your bubble of happiness just a while longer. Sirius always knew that you made him shine brighter but now, he felt that he could outshine the stars.

Remus Lupin

Rainy evenings were always your favourite. But tonight was perfect.

James, Sirius and Peter were off pulling a prank on some unsuspecting 2nd year Ravenclaws, whilst you and your long-term crush were huddled up in the common room with two muggle books and two steaming cups of hot chocolate. You had no idea how the lanky wizard looked so comfortable on the sofa but you weren't complaining as you felt your knee bump his every once and awhile, sparks erupting at the physical contact.

Diving into the pages of the latest muggle book Lily gifted you, becoming so lost within the words that you didn't notice the chocolate moustache you had left after your previous gulp. The rich chocolate liquid which formed a frame over your plump lips caught the attention of Remus, who had be sneaking longing glances at you all night.

Your book induced trance was broken by Remus' hearty chuckle, a sound that you could listen to on repeat. Breaking away from the words, you looked up to find the werewolf already looking at you with an amused look painting his handsome face.

Immediately becoming conscious of the fact that the amusing thing was you, you released a small whine, "Remusss, why are you laughing at me".

"You have a bit of, well. You have a hot chocolate moustache"

Eyes widening in embarrassment, you quickly attempt to wipe away any chocolatey remnants with your sleeve before presenting your face back to the taller boy and asking, "all gone?"

Scooting over so he was looming over your figure, hand resting on your knee to steady himself. Remus reached up to gently wipe away the remaining flecks of chocolate that settle in the corners of your lip, allowing his thumb to caress the outline of your bottom lip.

The moment seemed to last forever, with the both of your eyes locking together as the young Gryffindor cautiously traced the outline of your jaw before entangling his hand within your hair, bringing your lips together.

The overwhelming sense of emotion accompanied by the rich lingering taste of chocolate engulfed the both of you as you leant into the kiss, resting hands on his shoulders. Remus raised his hand to grasp your hip and slowly move you closer toward his embrace.

You always thought that your first kiss with the werewolf would be more passionate and spark filled but no, this felt like home. This felt like you had fallen into his arms and discovered you belonged.

Breaking away, you stared into his amber orbs. Looking for any sign of regret or fear but you found that his eyes were filled with adoration and love, matching the very same look you held for him.

Giggling as the now giddy Gryffindor pressed a flurry of light kisses on your plumped lips, you knew that this would beat any love-story in any muggle book because this, this was perfection.

#sirius black x reader #harry potter #harry potter fandom imagine #mauraders #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader #sirius black imagine #james potter imagine #james potter x reader #the mauraders #marauders drabble #remus lupin drabble #james potter drabble #sirius black drabble #drabble #ask response #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin

[quindolyn]

hello bug! you put your requests off but I’m going to forget if I don’t send it in now (sorry). feel free to ignore until you’re ready love!

james potter stuck in subspace (mommy kink!)

Strawberry Lips || James Potter

Word Count: 2594

A/N: Okay so I’m an idiot, half way through I realized I both had the reader fucking him and a butt plug in and I had to go back and rework it. I procrastinated on his all day so it’s currently 11:!5 and I have to be up at 6 tomorrow and I require 8 hours of sleep to function like a real human being. There’s probably a million little mistakes but I’m too impatient to wait until morning to reread, please tell me if you notice anything super fucked up

Warnings: mommy kink, sub!James, male penetration, my first time writing subspace and all the subspace blurbs I’ve read before have been from the perspective of the submissive so please don’t judge me too harshly on this, slut is used like once, aftercare

Masterlist

800 Follower Celebration

“You can take it, pretty boy,” You murmured, gazing down at him adoringly, flicking your thumb over the weeping head of his overused cock as you pumped your hand up and down his shaft. 

You could tell that he was completely submissive to you, from the glazed look in his eyes to the muffled whimpers and gasps that carelessly slipped from his mouth and the way his hips had stopped trying to squirm away from the combined stimulation of your hand on his member, the heavy glass of your strap on pistoning in and out of him. He was a drooling mess for you as you reached with the hand not on his cock to slap his ass, his body jolting at the unexpected, though not unwelcomed contact.

It was like there was fire flowing through your veins, with the alertness one feels after downing a few shots of espresso but minus the jitters that often accompanied it you were completely tuned in to the man before you. 

Splayed out on his back you observed with a careful eye the way his thighs clenched in his efforts not to cum until he was given your permission. You studied the furrow of his brow and the drops of glistening sweat rolling down his face, examining every aspect of his appearance to make sure that he was okay. 

When James slipped into subspace he slipped hard and more often than not couldn’t even remember his own name, never mind the safe word the two of you had previously established. No, it was up to you to make sure that he was alright, and the very prospect that this man, this beautiful, beautiful man, trusted you enough to allow you to take care of him in such a way was thrilling.

“Taking Mommy’s cock so well baby, is it nice and deep inside of you, making you feel nice and full?” You smiled as you let go of his cock, watching it as it bounced along with the rest of his body, in time with your rough, fast paced strokes. 

“Uh huh,” He gasped, squeezing his eyes shut as he offered the pathetic nod of his head, “Feels so good Mommy, want more, want your cock.”

“You’ve already got it, baby, it’s all yours. Or do you want more?” You questioned, slapping his erect, sensitive prick without ever ceasing your thrusts in and out of him, keeping your speed consistent while watching his body jump at the sudden contact. 

“Mommy,” He whimpered, his cock throbbing as you traced just the tips of your fingers up and down his shaft.

“Come on baby,” You cooed, trailing your fingertips down his shaft to his balls, taking them in the palm of your hands before griping them tightly, smirking as his face scrunched in pleasure, “How do we ask for more of Mommy’s cock?”

“Please!” He begged unabashedly, “Please Mommy, please!”

“Aw baby,” You lilted, dragging your open palm down the expanse of his muscled chest, moving up and down before finding your way to his nipple which you pinched harshly.

“Owie, Mommy,” James whined trying to squirm away from your touch.

“Gonna cum one more time for Mommy baby,” You decided after dragging your eyes over James’ quivering form to assess him, “One more, can you cum one more time for me, pretty boy?”

You spat onto your hand, returning it to his throbbing length, your ministrations on his member were faster than last time, wanting to get him right to the precipice of cumming and making him beg for it. 

Sure he’d already cum four times but Jamesie was your good boy, he could take another. With the resumed stimulation of your hand, all James could manage from his lips, bitten a bright rosy red, was a desperate whine accompanied by what was supposed to be a nod was more of a jerk of his head, too fuzzy from the pleasure coursing from his veins to properly control his body. 

“Good boy,” You praised, “Just one more,” You leaned back to watch your strap on slide in and out of his tight hole, thanks to a spell you and he had spent months perfecting it was like the cock strapped to you was an actual appendage of your body and you could feel every time James clenched around the glass. It was heavenly, being buried so deep in him and you couldn’t get enough of it. 

Balancing yourself by gripping onto his hips you sped up your movements, lifting his bum slightly to push deeper inside of him with every stroke.

Only a fool wouldn’t be able to tell the signs that your ministrations were bringing James dangerously close to climax as he incoherently blabbered on and on, “S’too much Mommy, need more, need more of your cock.”

“Aw has Mommy fucked you dumb baby? Don’t even know what you want, you want Mommy to stop?” You mocked, smirking wickedly when his eyes flew open.

“No no no no no, please don’t be stop Mommy, don’t want you to stop, please don’t stop, need your cock,” He pleaded shaking his head in efforts to convince you.

“You’re pathetic Jamie, such a slut for my cock,” He released a high pitched whine at your teasing which just spurred you on even more.

Living up to the title of slut you’d bestowed upon him he squeezed around your strap on at the degrading name, as much as he loved praise, degradation turned him on more than he’d like to admit, “Please let me cum Mommy, pretty please, I’ve been a good boy, I wanna be your good boy, please let me cum.”

Satisfied with his begging you gave a curt nod of your head, too so focused on the pleasure that zipped up your spine warming your body as you continued both thrusting in and out and sliding your hand along James’ shaft.

“Make a mess on Mommy’s hand baby boy, be a good boy for me and cum,” Your verbal permission was all he needed, cumming almost instantaneously, covering your hand in his warm, milky white release. The feeling of his cum on your skin sent shivers up your spine and the sight of him erupting on your hand drove you over the edge too, stabilizing yourself on his thighs you felt pleasure overwhelm you.

“Fuck Jamie,” You swore under your breath as you let your head fall forward, it becoming too heavy for you to support as you felt yourself clench around nothing. You were brought back to reality from the bliss of your orgasm by the pathetic little whines that left James as his cock twitched against his stomach, he was still cumming.

“Poor baby, made you cum five times and you’ve still got cum in you” You crooned, slipping your strap on from his hole you heard him whimper, comforting him by placing a steady hand on his thigh, dragging your thumb over his skin in small circles. You knelt before him, lifting up his balls to place a gentle kiss on the sensitive skin. 

James’ ragged breathing sounded through the room as he recovered from his orgasm and slowly regained the ability to speak, “W-was I your good boy Mommy?” He managed to stutter out, his eyes flickering open as he spoke. He sounded far off and dreamy like he was high off his orgasms.

“You’re always my good boy baby, you did so well for me like you do every time,” You extolled, sliding one hand up the crimson, silk sheets to find his hand which still had the bedding scrunched up in his fist. Once you’d slowly eased his hand slack you intertwined your fingers with his, keeping that contact as you stood up to peer down at him.

You studied him with a critical eye, examining every inch of him, taking note of the cum beginning to dry on his stomach and cock, the teeth marks from where he’d bitten his plump lips which looked bloody from where you stood, and the sweat covering his entire body from hours of going at it.

“Really?” He asked you, his tone genuine as he looked up at you with wide eyes.

You smiled at him before leaning down over his ruined form, melding your lips with his in a quick kiss, allowing your tongue to trace his bloody lips, “Always baby.”

He winced as you shifted above him and looking down you realized your strap-on was brushing against his ruined cock.

“M’sorry baby, let me take this off yeah?” You started to push yourself off of him but he soon latched onto your wrist, pulling you down on top of him.

“No Mommy, don’t go, want you please,” He murmured against the soft skin of your shoulder.

You allowed your head to fall against your shoulder but you were careful to keep your hips up as to not hurt Jamie but you’d gone just as long as James had and the position was soon becoming too strenuous for your overworked body.

“Gimme a second baby, m’not going anywhere just have to get comfortable too,” You explained, and though he didn’t respond James seemed to understand as he allowed you to stand up and remove the harness from your body, abandoning it on the dresser, making a note to clean it up in the morning. 

Glimpsing at James you noticed that his eyes were closed and you took the opportunity to sneak away to the bathroom where you wet a washcloth to clean up James. But as you ran the soft fabric under the warm water coming from the faucet you failed to notice him slip into the bathroom behind you.

In fact, you weren’t even aware of the dark haired man’s presence until his strong arms scooped you off of the floor, his grip on you was surprisingly sturdy given his foggy headspace and that every time he moved he winced as his cock rubbed against his muscled thigh.

“You said you weren’t gonna leave me, Mommy,” He whined into your ear as he carried you back to the bed, you shifted in his hold so that you could run the damp washcloth along his toned shoulders, he visibly unwound under your touch. 

“I know baby,” You murmured not wanting to speak too loudly, “But I need to clean you up and I thought you wouldn’t notice.”

His response was unintelligible as he dropped you down on the bed with a little less care he would if he wasn’t so out of it.

“Thought I fucked you dumb baby,” You teased, pulling him to sit down next to you before gently pushing on his shoulders so that he was propped up against the fluffy pillows arranged on the bed.

“That’s not nice Mommy, m’not dumb,” He grumbled, making grabby hands for you to move closer to him to which you obliged, settling in between his legs with yours thrown over his hips, keeping enough distance between the two of you so that you didn’t agitate his used member. 

“Aw baby Mommy didn’t mean to upset you,” You grinned at his vulnerable state, pressing a delicate kiss to his nose to distract him as you gently brushed the damp cloth against his member.

Despite your most valiant efforts he still jumped, mewling at the stimulation while trying to squirm away from your touch.

“I know it hurts baby,” You ran a hand up and down his flexed thigh, “Gotta clean you up though.”

“Want your lips, Mommy,” He sniffled, puckering his lips and closing his eyes.

You leaned forward to meet his soft cushions to distract him as you finished cleaning up his prick. You kept the kiss soft as to not push him even further under or to agitate the wounds on the red pillows.

Pulling away you plucked a tube of lip balm from the bedside table, leaning over James’ face to reach it. Seeing an opportunity and taking it James latched his lips onto your nipple, sucking lazily but just hard enough to not let you pull away. When you tried despite his hold on you he threw a strong arm around your waist pulling you flush against him, not reacting when your knee bumped his dick.

“You gotta let go of Mommy’s titty baby, she’s gotta help you, darling.”

His response was muffled by your tit stuffed into his mouth so you pulled back so that you could hear him, “Say that again baby?”

“Want your titty Mommy, wanna make you feel good,” He begged, replacing his mouth with his hand, palming the flesh of your breast.

“You have James, you’ve made me feel so good. But s’not my name anymore baby, not Mommy anymore, it’s (Y/N), yeah?”

Your words seemed to go in one ear and out the other as he just continued groping at your tit, watching it like it held all the answers in the universe. Easing his fingers from your body you sat back in your original position tapping James’ lips to signal to him to pucker them again for you. 

“Good boy,” You praised as you ran the lip balm over his lips, smearing the strawberry flavored balm over the cracks. 

As you pulled back to recap the tube of lip balm James stuck his tongue out, sliding it over the balm before tucking it back into his mouth, humming approvingly, “I taste like strawberries,” He smiled goofily.

“Yes you do baby but you’re supposed to keep it on your lips so that it’ll help you, pretty boy,” You shook your head as you reapplied the balm to his lips.

“You gotta taste (Y/N/N),” He said eagerly, the fog starting to clear, puckering his lips once again, “Tastes so good!”

“Okay Jamesie,” You giggled, meeting his lips with yours, tasting the strawberry lip balm he seemed so fond of in his fragile state.

“What do you think (Y/N/N)?” He asked you as you used your finger this time to reapply the shimmery balm. 

“You’re right baby, tastes very good,” You agreed to appease the boy in front of you.

You began to lift yourself from the mattress but you were tugged back down and into his chest. “No leaving, not again,” His discontent was evident in his voice as he nestled into your hair, inhaling to take in your scent.

“Gotta get us clothes,” You tried to explain, drawing shapes on his pec with your finger.

“Don’t need clothes,” He mumbled, “Wanna feel your skin anyway.”

You pulled your head away to look at his face, though he was talking his eyes were closed, he was beautiful with his hair a messy dark halo around his face and his pretty glossy lips, his lips parted as his breathing began to slow.

“You’ve come back to me baby?” You needed to make sure before you let him fall asleep.

“Uh huh,” You felt his chin bump against your head as he nodded his head, “M’back (Y/N).”

“Okay love,” Unable to stop yourself as you gazed up at his plump lips you ran the pad of your thumb along his bottom one before popping it into your mouth to suck on it, “Strawberries,” You murmured.

“Strawberries,” He agreed, wrapping his arms around you to pull your body as close to his as possible.

“You’re right love, tastes really good,” You snuggled closer to him, gripping one of his well defined biceps as you too felt sleep begin to overwhelm you.

“Told you.”

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete @oliviashea05 @gxtitobxby @thotbutpurple 

#harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #marauders x reader #harry potter imagine #james potter #james potter x reader #marauders fanfic #James potter smut #sub!james potter #sub!james potter smut

[gallickingun]

I’m really soft for the idea of having to use your safe word with Bakugou and he immediately snaps into the most nurturing boyfriend. He’s gone from pounding into you and slapping you around, to holding you to his chest and stroking your hair. He’d run you a bath and while you soaked in there he’d make you some comfort food which he’d feed you later in bed.

a/n: this got p long so i’m putting it under a read more!  tw: degradation

It’s all too much.

“I want to hear you beg for my perfect cock, you little slut,” his lips are curling and all you can see is your own self-hatred reflected to you in his carmine irises. A slap resounds against your cheek but it’s hard to process, save for the way your face turns into the pillow. Bakugou’s hand drifts from your jaw to your throat, encasing the tender muscles within his grasp and squeezing.

You start to see stars when you hear him say, “I said beg, you pathetic bitch, or else I’ll have to punish you for not listening.”

Your heart is pounding, your eyes are pouring tears, and your thighs are starting to clench to the point of pain that no longer feels like pulsing pleasure. You can barely find it in you to form words because your tongue feels warped and heavy within your mouth, but the second you manage to force that very special phrase out of your teeth, the whole world stops spinning.

Bakugou’s hand loosens against your throat and his hips still, buried to the hilt within you, the domineering mask slipping from his expression, “S-Say it again.”

You’re embarrassed, but you repeat the phrase, a choking sob breaking it up in the middle. You turn your head into the pillow so you don’t have to look at him when his face twists in anger or frustration, your hands covering what visibly remains of your face so he can’t see your crumpled features.

“Hey,” Bakugou’s voice is uncharacteristically soft and the sound of it makes you whimper. He doesn’t pull out of you, not yet, because he’s afraid the sudden change might bring another round of emotions to the surface, “Come back to me, princess, I’m right here.”

The gentle way his fingers circle around your wrists could make you cry for another reason entirely, and the crooning of his deep voice in your ear makes your toes curl. You clench your jaw in favor of looking up at him, focusing on the pain that is now throbbing in your gums. Your cheek still stings from the smack you received not but moments prior to your outcry, and you wonder if the skin is as red as you think it might be.

“D-Do you want me to pull out?” His voice is timid, and timid is not something well-known to Bakugou Katsuki. You are shaking your head adamantly, begging with your hands twisting in his grip to hold him by the forearms, eyes wild as you finally glance up at him, “P-Please don’t leave me.”

Bakugou is hushing you, curling his body further into you so he is filling you to the base of him, his knees tucking tightly against your hips and his arms circling around your shoulders to hold you close.

“I’m right here,” he repeats the sentiment from earlier, kisses against your temple. You swear you feel the telltale sign of damp tears against your skin and hair, but you don’t have the wherewithal to take much notice. His cock twitches withing your core and it’s comforting somehow, in tandem with the way he is kissing over your face and running the tip of his nose against your skin, providing you with all the tactile relief he can muster, “I’m not going anywhere, princess, I’m right here.”

He repeats that phrase several times, until your breathing has gone from erratic to something much more calm. Bakugou kisses the space on your chest where your heart would be, “Just breathe, baby. It’s okay, you’re okay. Come back down, I’m right here.”

Your palms press against his chest and he’s taken aback at the sudden contact, irises widening to swallow his pupils. He brushes your hair from your eyes, noting how you flinch at the sight of his hand so close to your face, and his soul cracks in half. Bakugou’s voice is wavering as he whispers, “I-I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”

You are shaking your head and trying to keep him from apologizing, but he tucks your head into his chest and rolls to the side so he can cradle you within the cage of his arms, “Don’t.”

Bakugou’s fingertips sift through your hair and down your neck, massaging at the base of your scalp and shoulders. You can hear something akin to humming in your ear, and after a few moments, you realize that Bakugou is singing. A new set of tears well up in your eyes, but you dig yourself further into the cavity of his shoulder, your nose tucked against his throat so you can breathe in his scent.

“I love you,” he grits out the words, kissing your temple, “I hope you know that.”

You tilt your head back so you can look him in the eyes, tears still settled in your lids and caked on your lashes, “I love you too, Katsuki.”

A smile graces his features, and you swear you’ve seen the sun. Pushing yourself up with the gentle movement of your legs, you rub your noses together, closing your eyes as he connects your foreheads, “I’m gonna run you a bath, okay? Help you wash up.”

Your hand reaches upward to cup his cheek, closing your eyes so you can drink in the closeness you have with him at this very moment in time. Your whole body is warm, and your mind is in a haze as you come down from your emotionally spiked high. You can’t help it as you angle your head just enough to meld your lips to his.

The action takes Bakugou by surprise at first, and he doesn’t react to your kissing. You start to pull back once you’ve realized that he isn’t reciprocating, but he’s caught you before you can retreat. He winds his arms around your shoulders and tilts his head forward to capture your lips once again. He is firm, but not so much so that you feel trapped, but rather you feel safe.

Bakugou gathers you up in his arms, gently unsheathing himself from you to cause less stinging at the sudden change of stretch, and walks you into the bathroom. You’re deposited on the counter while he runs the bath water, trying to get the tub to the perfect temperature before transferring you into the sudsy pool. He’s careful as he washes your hair, dipping your head back into the fragrant bubbles and massaging your scalp. 

He stands to his feet once your hair has been rinsed, the bubbles floating around your body popping once they come into contact with your skin. With one last pass through your hair, he retracts his fingers, “I”m going to go make dinner, okay? Let you soak in here a minute longer without me sitting up your ass.”

A giggle parts your lips, and there is a pressure lifted from his chest that he did not realize he was harboring. He clutches at his heart, wrapping his fingers around his pectoral so he can make sure the organ is still beating. The pounding thud against his palm gives him relief and then a smile takes over.

The next time he sees you is when you’re fumbling down the stairs, your body clad in one of his old merch designs, a shirt that falls down to your thighs, just enough to cover your ass. Bakugou smirks, knowing full well that you can make anything look this good.

“What do you want? Action, comedy, romance, or anime?” Bakugou carries two plates of spicy meat and rice to the coffee table where he’s already set up drinks and snacks to go along with dinner. You settle on a comedy movie and he pulls you into his lap, your back pressed against his chest so he can spoon feed you dinner, your headspace still recovering from earlier. The affectionate gesture seems to be over the top, but you are not one to tell Bakugou no when it comes to expressing his admiration to you through his actions. 

It is hours later when you are drifting off to sleep, your head on Katsuki’s chest, and you hear that same tune from earlier being sung into your ears, the vibrations in his chest only furthering your lull into sleep. Bakugou is brushing his fingers against the dated t-shirt in various patterns, the warmth radiating from his body dredging your mind into a sedated state.

“Hey,” he calls to you, bringing your attention to his face with a knuckle crooked underneath your chin. A kiss is pressed to your forehead, and when he pulls away, his voice is gentle, “Where’s my girl?”

You cannot help the dopey grin that tugs on your lips, wriggling your way closer to him so you can rub your nose against his, “I’m right here, ‘Suki.”

And you seal the promise of your presence with a kiss before falling back against his embrace, allowing him to hold together your broken pieces as if he were human glue. The final thing you notice just before you drift into the realm of unconsciousness is the song being sung in your ear.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you keep me happy when skies are gray. Don’t you know dear, how much I love you? Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

-

a/n: wow that got sappy real quick. i hope this was what you were wanting!

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugou smut #bakugou thirst #bakugou katsuki thirst #bnha x reader #bnha smut #bnha thirst #Anonymous #morgan gets mail

[myuni-moon]

#good morning, love

scenario of kaeya waking up to you

warnings: none!

if you like my content, consider donating to my ko-fi!

it's an eye-opener for him to wake up to you. it's the first time he feels the seeping warmth of someone else's skin under the morning sun instead of the lonely coldness of a bed that feels a bit too big for just him. kaeya really feels like it's a new day as your eyelashes tickle his skin when you snuggle further into his chest.

he's scared his racing heartbeat would wake you up, but you remain resting in his embrace. it scares him a little that it could all be just a dream, an illusion conjured up by his tired mind and that you're not actually there with him. he thinks he'll just wake up in the dead of night, and you're just a figment of his imagination.

kaeya is swiftly reassured when he feels your breaths puff against his collarbone. it grounds him back to the covers of your shared bed. it leaves a feather-like prickling to his shoulders just knowing you're in bed with him. it leaves him gasping for air, lungs growing with flowers and stomach filling with butterflies.

the only thing missing now is the ring of your voice to make it all perfect, along with your pretty eyes, tender touch, and loving kisses.

kaeya is tempted to fall back asleep. with the way your bodies meld together look like you've both become one, how can he not return to the gentle possession of sleep? but he knows he can't-- not when your throat vibrates with a hum.

"mmmm," kaeya hears your voice reverberate through his muscles, rippling his blood in tides. his hand finds its way into your hair, nails grazing against your scalp. he can practically hear you purr as he ducks his head and presses a kiss to your cranium.

your skull awkwardly hits his jaw, and kaeya lets out a grunt. "ow." you both say in unison. kaeya laughs through his nose as you press a kiss to his neck as an apology. your lips feel heavenly on him. you lift your head again, successfully this time.

your eyes meet.

"hello," you whisper. kaeya returns the greeting, letting you get lost in the blue of his stare. the hand in your hair retracts and carefully traces a line from the nape of your neck to the very bottom of your spine. he feels shivers wrack through your body as his ice cold fingertips come in contact with your hips.

it feels right having you with him. it feels so good when you throw your leg over his pelvis. it feels natural as you hog the blankets closer and leave him at the mercy of your warmth. it feels like he was meant to wake up to you. kaeya muses, maybe it won't be so bad waking up like this every morning.

"good morning, love."

#gi.kaeya #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact x y/n #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #kaeya x y/n #kaeya x reader #kaeya x you

[songmingisthighs]

Hooked

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

ch. xlvi - kinky fantasy

<< previous | masterlist | next >>

??? × reader, ateez × reader

A freshman hookup rekindled into something new. With an incentive, of course. But what would happen if your 'relationship' led you somewhere you never thought would happen to you ?

When you got back to the frat, you realized how silent it is. Usually, the boys would be running around everywhere, wreaking havoc in the best way possible. But the silence that enveloped the frat was quite a nice change. Slightly eerie, but still nice.

Realizing that there were probably no one around to bother you, you decided to try on the new clothes you just got.

You got into your room without closing the door all the way, leaving it slightly ajar. You put the shopping bags on your bed and put your own bag next to them.

Without wasting much time, you immediately unpacked the contents of the shopping bag, grinning at the items you bought. You bought some clothes that you'd wear out but those weren't the ones that made you feel giddy and excited.

Your hand excitedly reached into the black shopping bag and took out the contents carefully. The boys had been quite affectionate with you lately and you've been getting laid way more than you usually did. That increased your libido and was actually why you went shopping.

The fabric of the lace black and red bustier set was different compared to the pink babydoll. You had also paired a black choker and black mid-thigh length stocking for the bustier set and white thigh-highs for the babydoll. You laid them both to decide which one to try first.

Finally, you decided on trying the babydoll first. You slipped your clothes off and began putting on the garment. As you had hoped, it was perfect for you. It's the perfect amount of cute combined with sexiness but is still comfortable. The fabric felt soft on you and it just made you felt good.

Lastly, you decided to go all-in and try the thigh-highs as well. You sat at the edge of your bed and began pulling one up your leg.

But as you were putting on the other one, someone had opened the door, making you jump up to cover your body with the shirt you had just worn before you took it off. Not that it helped cover anything.

"(Y/N), I heard you came back a- what are you doing?" Jongho blinked his eyes innocently at you, half in confusion.

Neither one of you said anything, only staring at each other. You, not knowing exactly what to say or how to explain yourself. Jongho, still not realizing that you had been caught off-guard trying on your new lingerie.

It wasn't until Jongho's eyes shifted over your body that a smirk appeared on his face. "Oh, I see what you were doing," he closed the door and walked over to you. He knelt in front of you and carefully took a hold of the thigh-highs that was pulled up only until your calf, "may I?" he asked, looking up at you.

You bit your bottom lip but nodded at him. Before his hands moved to pull the thigh-highs over, he nodded at the shirt you were using to shield your scantily clad body.

"Show me what you were trying on," he ordered. You blushed but obeyed him promptly. You put the shirt down onto the bed and let his eyes roam over your body.

You knew Jongo has quite the baby girl kink so when his tongue darted out to lick at his bottom lip, you almost whimpered submissively at him.

His eyes slowly move downwards from your face to your chest and then to your thighs, and finally to the thigh-highs. As his fingers glided over the thin material, his eyes followed up very slowly. Once the material was fully on you, he let his fingers traced over the hem before it rested on your inner thighs and his lips left a trail of kisses from your knee up to your thighs.

"Please tell me you bought this for me," he mumbled against your skin. You held back a moan when his hands began squeezing your thighs, one of his hands snuggly in between your legs, strategically placed so close to your core.

"I mean, you were one of the few main reasons I bought this particular piece," you giggled when he bit lightly at the skin of your thigh. He groaned lowly at your response before suddenly pouncing on you, hovering over your body as he melded his lips with yours.

Your hands immediately tangle themselves up in his hair, tugging on them and letting your fingernails scrape on his scalp. His lips moved with yours to express his urgency, you knew he wanted and needed you that moment.

"J-Jongho," you called out to him. He only grunted in response, lips too preoccupied nibbling your bottom one and hands roaming all over your body, enjoying the feeling of your lingerie. "Jongho," you called him again, whining.

Reluctantly, Jongho got off your lips and moved to the junction of your neck, "what?" he mumbled against your skin. Without having to look at him, you knew he had his eyes closed. Whenever you have the chance, you'd most likely dress up a little for him. Visual stimulation tends to drive Jongho a little crazy and when he does, these tend to be mind-numbingly amazing.

"I'm still on my period, Ho," you told him. When you felt his lips stopped moving on your skin, you bit your bottom lip in anticipation of what his reaction might be.

He suddenly dropped his whole body weight on you and rested his chin on your chest. He was looking at you with the best puppy eyes he could muster, "does that mean I can't fuck you?" his bottom lip jutted out adorably. You cooed at him, your hands moved to push his hair away from his face, "Unless you want a messy, bloody dick, then I'm afraid not," you pouted back at him.

Jongho groaned loudly before burying his face on your chest. "This is not fair, I really wanna fuck you and this little outfit made you look extra fuckable," you heard him grumble even though it was a bit muffled. You chuckled at how he's acting right now, "you drama queen, there are other ways to get your dick wet,"

At the proposition of having other options, Jongho lifted his head up at you, interested. "I can always suck you off," you suggested, "or jack you off," you added, "or I can use your thighs?" he asked. You tilted your head at him, "what, like humping on me?" he rolled his eyes at you, "no, like fucking myself with your thighs,"

You pondered over the idea for a bit. You may not be able to get your pussy pounded right now, but the idea of having Jongho used you like a sex toy is beyond arousing.

"Okay, how do you want to do this?" you smirked at him. Hearing your confirmation, Jongho visibly perked up. "You're not gonna regret this," he said before returning to connect his lips with yours in a heated kiss.

You moaned when you felt his hands reached up and squeeze your boobs. His fingers slipped into the cups of your bra to play with your nipples. He expertly rolled and pinch them, playing them however he likes. The added pleasure from his toying on your chest shot straight to your core. Your thighs automatically widened and grind onto Jongho's hips.

When your core made contact with him, you could feel how hard he is through his sweatpants. You moaned into his mouth at the thought of how he was probably already leaking.

Your hands move on their own, shoving into his pants to feel him, He was already erect, his cock felt heavy and hot in your hand.

As you began to stroke him slowly, Jongho grunted into your mouth. His teeth sunk into your bottom lip when your thumb pressed on his slit. Though it stung slightly, the feeling soon dissipated and turn into added pleasure.

When Jongho began grinding into your hand, you felt like you wanted to see more. So your free hand tugged on his sweatpants to conveyed what you wanted to him. Jongho leaned back slightly to see your pouty face. How he loves it when you're whiny and begging for him.

He simply chuckled but granted your request. He scooted backwards to his feet and began undressing. As he slowly peeled his shirt off, revealing his broad chest and shoulder, your legs dropped open and you immediately press two fingers to your clit, making you moan. Just before Jongho pulled his sweatpants off, he heard you moaned and smirked teasingly, "didn't know me stripping would have such an effect on you," he simply said before pulling his pants and boxers off with one single motion.

At the sight of his erection, your eyes zeroed in on it. Your eyes glazed over the pretty veins on it and you licked your lips when you see his reddened tip, his precum only making his cock look even more appealing.

Jongho chuckled at the way you're blatantly checking his dick out. "You can have this inside your pretty pussy after you're done bleeding," he joked which made you scowl at him.

Instead of getting back on top of you, he swept the shopping bags off your bed and plopped down in the middle of it. He turned his head to you and patted his lap, "hop on baby," he grinned.

You giggled at the way he addressed you but immediately move to straddle his lap. Once you were situated comfortably, you began grinding your clothed core directly on his dick whilst maintaining eye contact with him. With the intensity of everything, Jongho was looking at you with a very wild, animalistic stare.

"Let me rephrase what I said earlier," his hands shot up to your hips and he held you still, "once your period's done," he thrust his hips towards your core, sending you gasping and almost toppling over due to his strength, "I'm not," another thrust, "letting you," another thrust, "get off," another thrust, "my dick,"

At his last word, he pulled you down onto his chest and melded your mouths again, "keep your legs straight and closed, baby," he mumbled against your lips.

You did as he told and soon enough, he manoeuvred his dick with his hand to slip between your thighs. The feeling of his dick between your thighs felt different but in a good way. While you usually could feel him directly inside of you, the feeling of being so close to having him inside but not being able to really do so increased your desire to have him.

Jongho thrusted slowly at first, wanting to see how you'd react to the new position. "Tell me," you started, detaching your mouth from his to nibble at his earlobe, "did you learn this from watching porn?" you asked. He craned his neck to expose more of his skin to you, "do you study before tests?" he answered back.

You rolled your eyes at him and bit on his collarbone, "how dare you compare me to tests," you mumbled against his skin. He chuckled but ignored your comment.

He moved his legs to trap you between his strong thighs, making sure that he's snug between your legs. At the change of position, his dick is not only snugly in between your legs but was also pressing at your pussy.

As he increased the speed of his thrust, you moaned loudly when his hips rub against your clit deliciously. Jongho took pride at how loud you're being, "don't hold back, baby, no one's home other than us,"

You did, in fact, moaned louder. Especially when he started to literally use you like a sex toy. He gripped your hips and thrust himself furiously. You knew that he was only thinking about making himself cum. Not that you were complaining because he was doing everything and your job was only to lay there, looking pretty. There was even the added bonus of your pussy receiving some indirect attention.

To add to his pleasure, your hands began roaming on his chest and playing with his nipples as your mouth leave marks on his beautifully tanned skin.

Jongho groaned when you pinched both of his nipples rather harshly. "Make yourself cum for me, Jongho, make me not regret buying this piece of lingerie," you moaned into his ear. With the way your teeth tugging at any skin you could reach and your hand teasing his nipples, it didn't take long for his hips to falter, a sign that he was so close to his release.

You pushed him to the edge by clenching and unclenching your thighs as your lips found their way back to his. Whilst your tongue lashed with each other, you felt Jongho stilled and warm spurt of his cum painted the back of your thigh. To prolong his climax, you ground yourself on him which proved to be effective.

As he relaxed and tried to catch his breath, you simply lied on his body with your arms underneath your head. Your fingers traced shapes on his chest while his tugged on the fabric of your babydoll.

"I really do like this lingerie," he said, breaking the silence. You giggled and looked up to him, "of course you do, Jongho, I know your style," you said before pressing a kiss to his chin.

He suddenly reached to the bedside table to take a few tissues to clean you up from his cum. When you were cleaned up, he patted your butt with a smile on his face, "now, I'd like to see what else you bought so you're gonna do a little fashion show for me,"

You squealed in delight at his idea and immediately jump up to do what he said.

As you were pulling the garments from the bags, Jongho's eyes followed after your movements as he smirked, "and who knows, maybe that'll lead us to a second round," he joked.

You threw a random piece of clothing at him but laughed nevertheless.

"You wish."

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[hornime]

twinkle tits | tanaka saeko x gn!reader

she laughed again, causing a strangely warm feeling to bubble in your stomach. “i like you, you don’t take anyone’s shit.” her expression turned darker. “i’d love to break you.”

warnings: 18+, timeskip!saeko, kinda dom!saeko, titty sucking, mentions of unsafe driving

w/c: 1.8k

a/n: furudate told me that it’s canon that saeko has tit piercings in the timeskip. 

you grumbled in annoyance as a red chrome motorcycle cut in front of you on the highway, forcing you to slam on the brakes and hold down your horn, probably for a bit longer than was necessary. as you both decelerated to stop at a red light, the rider, visage hidden by a mysterious black helmet with a tinted shield, turned back to look at you, making you seize up behind the steering wheel.

they seemed to think something over and rotated back to face forward on the seat, before raising their right hand and flipping you off.

are you serious? you thought. you’re the one who cut in front of me.

all you wanted was to give this person a piece of your mind, but you knew that 1) road rage just wasn’t worth it and 2) doing so would do nothing but make your commute unnecessarily complicated. it was one of those mondays, and the last thing you needed was to get pissed off before getting morning coffee in your system. all you wanted to do was forget about the incident and move on with your day.

unfortunately, the fates weren’t keen on making that happen.

to your frustration, the annoying bike, with, to your newfound knowledge, the even more annoying rider, turned into the lot of your office building, parking in front of a recently sold lot, which was conveniently located right next to your workplace. you debated for a second over where to park, for all you knew, this biker could be crazy or something, but you decided that, at this point, you really didn’t care.

you turned off your engine, gathered what you needed for the day, and stepped out of your car, intending to look straight ahead and get through the doors of your building with as little conflict as possible. thoughts bounced around in your head as the revving of the motorcycle a few spots away quieted: don’t engage, don’t engage, don’t enga—

“hey! you!” a voice called out. you cursed internally, before spinning your head towards the yell.

a woman with brown eyes that glinted dangerously and blonde hair that shone in the early sun was tapping her foot, the incessant click of her black stiletto on the concrete becoming more and more irritating. stiletto? you thought. how the hell was she wearing stilettos on a motorcycle?

your eyes couldn’t help but trail downwards towards her chest, her crossed arms accentuating her soft, leather-clad curves. as you were distracted by her body, she walked up to you, snapping a pair of red nails in your face and bringing back to reality.

“hey,” she insisted, a hint of amusement evident in her voice. “my eyes are up here.”

you looked up, embarrassed at being caught ogling her, and made eye contact. shit, you thought, losing yourself in her sharp features. she’s really hot. suddenly, you remembered what this crazy lady had put you through: and she almost made me crash. “hey,” you responded tersely. “who the hell taught you how to drive?”

you cringed at your bluntness, so much for avoiding conflict, while she raised an eyebrow in challenge, a spunky smile turning her lips up. “who taught me how to drive? what about you? you barely checked if anyone was gonna turn in.”

you chuckled in astonishment. there was no way this bitch was trying to flip this on you. “you’re kidding right? you drive like a literal madwoman.” you thought back, in hindsight, maybe you hadn’t looked to see if anyone was coming, but that wasn’t the point! isn’t it her job to be a defensive driver?

she threw her head back and laughed, a strangely charming sound for how loud and taunting it was. “yeah, i get that a lot. too fast, too reckless, and too cocky. i think it makes life more interesting.”

“well, i think it almost killed me.”

“lighten up,” she snarked, digging the tip of her pointer finger into your chest. “you look like someone that takes life too seriously. you gotta take a risk sometime!”

“a risk that might send me into my grave,” you deadpanned, “no thanks.”

she laughed again, causing a strangely warm feeling to bubble in your stomach. “i like you, you don’t take anyone’s shit.” her expression turned darker. “i’d love to break you.”

you flinched at her change in tone. what?

“well,” she continued. “i gots’ta go. lots of lives to ruin! yours is just one of many.”

you called out as she swiveled to walk away. “wait!” she cocked her head towards you. “where d’you work?”

she gestured to the lot she’d parked in front of. “saeko’s cycles. i’m saeko and i sell cycles. motorcycles. ‘s a work in progress. you?”

you nodded at the building next to hers. “there.”

she approached you again, extending her fingers to dance on your shoulder, sending hot chills down your spine. “we’re work neighbors then.” she grinned devilishly. “guess i’ll be seeing a lot more of you.”

you gulped. she really was hot.

“guess you will.”

you both went your separate ways.

for the next few days, the pattern repeated: saeko would cut you off, you’d honk, she’d flip you off, and you’d engage in some banter before heading off to work. you looked forward to interacting with the driving demon everyday; you thought about her throughout the day, on the way home, at night in your bed with nothing more than your imagination, your hand, and an incessant ache for sex... she was driving you crazy.

on saturday morning, you grumbled at the sound of your alarm: you had to drop off some paperwork at the office. reluctantly leaving your bed, you drove your way to the building. a scarlet flash caught your eye, and you were surprised to see saeko’s motorcycle parked in its usual spot. why’s she here? it’s saturday. after completing your task, you reached for the handle of your car door, then stopped. saeko’s probably working in her shop, you thought. it’d be nice to stop by.

you peered in the doorway, hearing the clattering of what you presumed to be tools coming from the back. “saeko?” you called, making your way through shelves of biking equipment and gear. “it’s me.”

the blonde poked her head out from the other side of a muddied motorcycle, hair pushed back with a headband. “hey!” she stood up, wiping her hands on a damp cloth, approaching you in a red-lined vest and a black headband. she looked dressed up, almost for a performance.

“what’s with the getup?”

“oh,” she said, looking down as if she’d just noticed what she was wearing. “taiko clothes.” at your confused expression, she clarified: “taiko’s a kind of japanese drumming. i’m captain of a local team. this,” she pointed at her vest, “is a happi. and this,” she tugged at the headband, “is a hachimaki. i just came back from rehearsal.”

you stood, speechless. she looked really good in those clothes, but you were sure that she’d look even better with them off.

she cleared her throat. “you have a nasty habit of zoning out on my tits. like what you see that much?”

your eyes shot back up to her, the heat of humiliation creeping up your neck. “um, uh. i-i...”

she chuckled at your shame. “no it’s okay, i like the attention.” her gaze turned predatory. “and i like you, too.”

within an instant, saeko was on you, your mouths melding together in a raunchy and needy kiss, tongues clashing passionately. lips locked within each other, she guided your movements, leading you to a small room at the back of the shop.

suddenly, she shoved you off of her, raising her leg so that the toe of her black stiletto teased lightly at your crotch. she gently increased the pressure, causing you to yelp in surprise—and an odd form of pleasure.

“why don’t you take a seat, babe?” the pet name made you shiver. saeko continued pushing you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the leather of a swivel chair, and you fell onto it.

eyes wide with lust and lips bruised with her animalistic desire, she thought you looked absolutely perfect, gazing up at her with a look of pure want. her eyes narrowed as she approached, towering over you. her hand grazed your throat before grabbing it. her hachimaki was hanging off the top of her head haphazardly, and she reached up and took it off, placing it on a neighboring table. she did the same with her happi, leaving you with an enticing view of her top half, clad in nothing but a lacy black bralette.

you couldn’t keep your eyes off of her, fervently tracing her delicious breasts. the area over her nipple was covered in a mesh fabric, and you could see—was that silver?

your head jerked up in shock. “you have tit piercings?”

“hell yeah i do,” she teased, climbing onto your lap and spreading her lags on either side of your knees. in this position, her bust was at your face-level, the barbells sparkling hypnotically. “you like?”

you swallowed dryly, convinced that she knew exactly what she was doing: spurring on your already overwhelming desperation for her body. “...yeah,” you whispered breathlessly. “i like ‘em a lot.”

she crossed her arms and lifted the erotic undergarment over her head, bare flesh now tantalizingly close to your mouth. “give ‘em a taste then.”

she didn’t have to tell you twice. your lips swiftly latched onto her right nipple, tongue swirling around the bud, and you moaned at the metallic taste of the piercing. you raised your thumb to play with the other one, and she gasped at the contact. 

“you—you’re really good at this,” she panted. “you look cute like this. all needy for my tits.”

you mewled at her praise, releasing her nipple with a pop! and moving your mouth to work the other one. “i like you, saeko,” you mumbled into her skin. “i don’t even mind that you’re a shitty driver.” you looked up at her, eyes blown wide with arousal. “you’re really cool.”

“yeah, yeah, i know,” she giggled. unexpectedly, she pushed her body off of you and landed on her feet. 

“why?” you pouted, trying, and failing, to conceal your disappointment, mouth feeling empty.

“oh, stop whining,” she chided, pulling her clothes back on. she motioned to a nearby motorcycle helmet on the corner of her desk. “put that on.”

“wha-where are we going?”

she sighed, kneeling to scrub some dirt off her shoe. “i know i said i’d break you, but i didn’t realize you’d get this dumb just from some sucking. we’re going to my place.”

she turned to glance at you, ravenous gaze reflecting her intense desire. “and once we get there, we’re gonna have a lot more fun. if we survive the drive, of course.”

you let out a sigh of amused exasperation. she’s gonna kill me.

© property of hornime 2021. do not plagiarize any of my writing and do not repost/copy my writing onto any other sites.

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