#Vocal Booth to Go | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

matryosika · 9 months

Text

Recording Sessions

Pairing — 3racha and Reader

Wordcount — 3,485 words

Genre — Smut

Warnings — Dom!Chan and Changbin, Switch(sub lean)!Jisung, consensual voice recording. Dirty talk, use of petnames (slut), mild humiliation, oral sex (m. receiving), brief spanking, unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, mild cum play, sex in a recording booth.

Autor's note — Wrote this a while ago for a commission, but as I was lurking through my google drive I found this again. I think its fun and I've been meaning to post something for a while now, but I can't get anything done sadly. I think I wrote this back in may or june? I am not too sure, but I hope you like it! I've been writing for NCT these days and I have 2 wips for them. I'm also working on something with Lee Know as a character. I hope I can get any of that finished soon! Hope you enjoy this, and I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes in advance 🤍

“Do any of you even know what a real moan sounds like?”

The look on their faces is amusing. Hadn't you been inside the recording booth, you're sure Changbin would have already headlocked you in a playful manner for running your mouth.

But you are inside the recording booth, the three of them sitting in the studio with frustration written all over their faces.

“This sounds so fake,” you continue, taking off the headset. “What did you type in youtube to get this sample? Women moaning ASMR?”

“You’re not being helpful at all, you know that?” Changbin asks, trying to keep a serious demeanor but failing almost miserably every time he remembers the audio samples that are currently as background vocals in their upcoming song. They do sound awful, but he isn't as straight-forward as you are.

“Well, you asked for my opinion and I’m giving it to you,” the smug look on your face pisses off Chan just a little, but it is nothing new —the endless bickering between the both of you has happened ever since you two met. It's always light-hearted and friendly, but it surely does bring some tension into your friendship with him.

“Any ideas on how we can improve this?”

“For once, get rid of all the fake moaning and get something that actually sounds like a woman being pleasured,” you instruct them, and smile when you see the three of them paying attention to your words. They have such abilities when it comes to music and producing, but they often look for constructive criticism outside their small group of three just to see things from different perspectives. “We don’t sound like that, it’s more like gasping for air and deep sighs accompanied with mostly quiet moans. This sounds like someone shouting exaggeratedly”.

“I’ve tried,” Chan murmurs, leaning back on his studio chair that he spins slightly. “But nothing sounds right. It’s a bit too much, maybe”.

“No, I do think the song calls for background sounds like these,” you encourage the trio. “It’s just- you need something more raw and real”.

There’s a quick moment of silence in which the four of you exchange glances, without exactly saying anything in particular.

Changbin and Chan look too deep into their own thoughts, probably trying to come up with another idea or alternative for that sound sample you all hate so much. Jisung, on the other hand, is staring right into you through the glass barrier that separates you from them, with an idea in mind he’s not quite sure how to deliver, but that he ends up doing it anyway.

“What if we record you?” Jisung asks, drawing the scowling glances of the other two. “I mean, you can obviously fake them since you're a woman, right?”

The suggestion has you cackling quietly, but even Chan and Changbin are considering it —you can tell by how they're looking at you as if they're expecting your verdict.

“Right,” you scoff, crossing both of your arms in front of your chest, “because what better way to spend my Saturday afternoon than faking moans inside a recording booth”.

“It’s not going to take you long,” It’s Chan who speaks this time. The one you thought was going to be the least to be on board with such a crazy idea. “We all know this isn’t going to be the first time you fake them”.

Your mouth opens in awe and you curse them mentally when they all laugh under their breaths. It was just one time, with a guy you didn’t even like, and you told them about it because you wanted to get the embarrassing memory out of your system. You were too bored, and desperate to go, that you ended up faking a series of moans that tricked him into thinking you were finished.

“Very funny, Christopher,” you spit, resentful. “I thought you promised not to bring that shit up, ever again”.

“And I thought you promised you’d help us,” Chan attacks, “so what is it going to be?”

You look at them for a couple of seconds, pondering the situation. You can help them, you really have nothing better to do —yet a better idea comes to mind.

“Why faking it if you can have the real deal?” you ask, nibbling at the skin against your fingernails. You’re trying to appear collected, but even suggesting such a crazy idea it’s making you feel uneasy. Unless you've gotten the signals wrong, you know they won't turn down such a proposal. “You’re all just sitting there, when one of you could help me”.

It’s Jisung who leans down over the console, clicking a red button to open the microphone.

“What exactly are you proposing?”

“Well, you were the one who pinned this on me, Han,” judging by their facial expressions, you know they understood exactly what you meant. They just want to make sure you are all on the same page. “Why don’t you come here and help me, so we can get this over with?”

“Why him?” Changbin immediately asks, offended even because you didn't consider him as your first option.

“Do you want to help me too?” you chuckle, “because I wouldn’t mind if you joined”.

“Han,” Chan’s cold voice interrupts the silence, catching the attention of the younger. He doesn’t say anything else, but rather signals for him to get inside the recording booth with a tilt of his head.

Jisung doesn’t say anything either, but his eyes flutter between you and Chan, almost begging for further instructions. He hesitates, perplexed. Not because he doesn’t want this, but because he really can’t begin to comprehend this is really happening.

“If you don’t want to, Changbin can do it,” the older speaks again.

“N-no, I mean- I can do it,” Jisung stands up from his studio chair abruptly and hastily, like he is in a rush. To be honest, he kind of is —he has been daydreaming of this moment ever since he met you, so he isn't going to waste it. Even if that means there are going to be other people watching or involved. “I just- what do I do?”

Chan and Changbin scoff quietly, teasing him. “You should ask her that question,” the former replies, crossing both of his arms and leaning back on his chair, “not us”.

“Yeah, okay”.

Jisung walks inside the booth, swallowing thickly. Is he really about to do this? Is he dreaming? Or is this some sort of a sick joke?

He can’t help but overthink the situation, but every single one of his thoughts goes away when you welcome him into your embrace, holding him tightly against your body with his half-hard cock pressing against your lower abdomen and your tits against his toned chest. The other two are watching, and that only riles him up a lot more.

“Have you ever been this shy?” You tease him, wrapping your arms around his neck and brushing your lips against his. “You’re always so cocky, always running your mouth. But right now you aren’t. I wonder why”.

“We don’t have that much time,” Chan warns you through the speakers, and you can feel the despair in his voice. Like Changbin, he’s anticipating something and you’re edging them, just like you are to Jisung.

“Then I’m going to need more help,” you hum, latching your fingers against Jisung’s dark hair while pulling him closer to the crook of your neck. He loses no time and starts kissing and licking the sensitive flesh, hiding his face there. You, on the other hand, look through the glass barrier proudly to the other two who are out. “From the both of you”.

“One isn’t enough for you? Do you need the three of us?” Chan asks, poking his cheek with his tongue. Changbin, on the other hand, observes the scene in awe, with both excitement and impatience. You don't reply, but shoot an accomplice glance at the older. “I always knew you were some of a slut, I just didn’t think this much”.

“Well, now you know,” you smile, biting your lower lip when Jisung sucks on a sensitive spot a bit too harshly, “so start recording”.

The following moments are blurry, perhaps because of how nervous you are. You try to act in control, like you're the one calling the shots. But when you feel the three of them near you, with their hands all over you, it's hard to.

“You’re not that bold now, are you?” Chan whispers in your ear, pressing your arse against his crotch. To your sides, there’s Jisung and Changbin, who grope and kiss your body as much as the other allows them to.

“I’m doing this for you,” you sigh, kicking your head back until it meets Chan’s shoulder.

“Right,” he scoffs, grabbing a fistful of your hair and forcing you to kneel in front of Changbin and Jisung. “We just wanted your advice, but somehow we ended up like this”.

“I wonder why,” you tease him looking up to him while your hands tease the men in front of you.

“I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that she’s such a filthy slut,” Changbin murmurs, caressing your hair back.

You can feel them through their sweatpants —you can feel how hard and ready they are for you, how desperate they are for your touch. You wish to take your sweet time with them, to suck the three of until they come in your mouth only to fuck you afterwards.

You want more than just a quick fuck. But this will have to do for now.

“Suck them off,” Chan orders, pleased with the sight of you on your knees.

Good thing you’re wearing such accessible clothes today —you’re making his job ten times easier.

“Get us nice and wet, baby,” Changbin proceeds, pulling your head against his crotch while he lowers his sweatpants just enough to release his throbbing cock. “We’re going to fuck you with it, so it’s up to you how easy you’re going to make this for yourself”.

“Don’t forget Jisung too,” the one behind you murmurs into your ear, practically kneeling right beside you while he pulls up your dress, revealing a shameful piece of clothing that he can barely name as underwear. The sight makes Chan’s cock throb even harder. “See how much he’s leaking? I know he has been dreaming of this for a while now”.

“Fucker,” Jisung hisses through gritted teeth, feeling betrayed by his friend. Truth is, he isn’t telling any lies.

“Aw, you have?” He has been infatuated with you for quite some time now, and he is too awkward to be discreet about it. You have caught him checking you out shamelessly, and it has always been a turn on for you.

“We all have,” Changbin says, nibbling at his lower lip when you wrap your hand around his cock. You squeeze both of them hard, staring up at them with a mischievous smile. “If only you knew what we talk about when you’re not around”.

“Mh, I feel a little excluded now,” you pout. “Why don’t you guys just show me?”

You spent another ten minutes on your knees, being throat fucked by your dearest friends Changbin and Jisung. They take turns in burying their cocks inside your warm mouth, using your hair as leverage to let you know which one of them to suck next.

In the meantime, Chan just watches.

You’re drooling all over yourself by now, your shirt ruined with a mixture of spit, precum and sweat. Your skin feels sticky, your mouth feels full and your pussy feels wet —you really wouldn’t be surprised if the floor was stained with your arousal.

“C’me here,” Chan tells you, grabbing you by your arm and helping you get in a different position. Your knees are bruised and red, but you don’t really care —tomorrow it will be a fun reminder of what happened today. “Now let’s really start recording”.

You lay on the floor on all fours, with your ass up and your hands and knees supporting your body weight. It's an uncomfortable position, but you can only do much in a recording booth with no bed or couches.

The first one to take a spot right behind you is Changbin. Out of the three, it’s the one who seems more desperate to get his release and you kind of understand him —you’re desperate to feel something too, anything.

“I don’t have-” his voice is strangled, almost panicking. You can feel his hands gripping your hips, and the tip of his cock brushing against your slit.

“I don’t care,” you encourage him, whimpering when Chan forces your head to face his throbbing dick that he has his fist wrapped around. “Just fuck me”.

It’s the heat of the moment that's getting the best out of you, but you can’t begin to regret it when you feel Changbin’s cock burying itself little by little inside your aching pussy. You try to hold back your moans, worrying that someone outside the hall might hear you, but you know it’s practically impossible.

Plus, that’s the reason why you’re there, anyways.

So you start enjoying the moment, being as vocal as possible. If anything, the lewd sounds escaping through your lips are only pushing Changbin towards the edge, hips snapping at yours roughly enough to get a series of strained moans immersed in both pleasure and pain.

“You sound so g-good,” Changbin grunts, biting his lower lip to stop himself from being too loud. “Had I known your moans were this pretty, I've would've fucked you before”.

“Fuck, Changbin”. The way his name falls from your lips boosts his ego, and he’s glad everything is being recorded. He makes a mental note to go back to the recording later today, just in case he needs to unwind.

“Jisung will fuck you after him,” Chan demands your attention yet again, brushing the tip of his cock against your lips. He’s kneeling in front of you while Changbin is pounding your pussy from behind. Jisung, on the other hand, is stroking himself while he witnesses the scene; too shy to actually make a move himself, like the rest of them. “And then I will go next, how does that sound?”

“How many seconds- of the sample do you even need?” you chuckle, but the laugh is soon muffled by another whimper caused by Changbin’s ministrations.

“Just a couple,” he replies, smearing his precum along your lips. “But I’m sure you wouldn’t want to leave this studio without being fucked by Jisung and me, right?”

You love his cockiness, and how he is always almost right. So you nod frantically, clenching around Changbin at the idea of being filled with the both of them in just a couple of seconds.

It doesn’t take him long to come inside you, especially not with how much your pussy is clenching around him. He does so shamelessly, grunting your name and gripping your hips too harshly you’re sure it will leave a mark tomorrow.

When he pulls out, commanded by Jisung who is too desperate to wait another second, you feel his sticky arousal leaking out of you. It’s a weird sensation, and it makes you feel dirty, but you can’t deny you like it.

And you like it even more when you feel the tip of Jisung’s cock gathering all of his friend’s cum, fucking it back into you little by little, making sure it doesn’t go to waste.

“Who would’ve thought, hm?” You whimper, feeling a bit sore from Changbin’s aggressive care. “You’re not as innocent as I thought, Jisungie”.

He doesn’t say anything, but gives you a sharp thrust in response. One that makes your whole body jolt and tremble, one that earns you one of the prettiest moans the three of them have ever heard.

Chan is sure the recording is good to be used by now, but he doesn’t want to stop just yet. Or at least not until he also gets his fun.

“S-so tight,” Jisung murmurs, holding you more delicately than Changbin did. You love the contrast, though, and they’re both a good fuck. “And warm, all filled up with cum”.

“You’re going to fill me up too, Jisungie?” On any other occasion, the nickname would’ve earned you a killer gaze and a couple of curses from him. But right now, Jisung doesn’t mind. In fact, he likes it. There’s something enticing about you acting like the one in control.

“Can- I?” He asks with a shakily breath. His sloppy movements tell you he is close, and you take it as a compliment. A minute is definitely a record, but you’re really not mad about it.

“That depends,” you tease him, crying out loud when his cock starts hitting sensitive spots inside your walls. “Are you going to come a lot for me?”

“Ngh, y-yes,” Jisung whimpers. “Please, I’m- close, just let- say yes, please”.

“Go on,” you order him, arching your ass even more for him. “Give it to me”.

Not even a couple of seconds later, you feel a now familiar sensation warming up your lower tummy, leaking through your pussy and onto your thighs.

“Shit,” Changbin scoffs, checking the scene out. “You made a fucking mess”.

You want to look at what he did, know how much he came for you, but Chan reinforces your initial position yet again by arching your ass even more.

“Be a good slut for me,” he tells you, landing a sharp spank on one of your ass cheeks. The sudden action makes you cry out in pain, but you don’t hate the sensation completely. “And I’ll be good to you”.

You’re not quite sure what he means, and you don’t get time to ask before he’s bottoming out inside of you.

“Fuck!” you moan, suddenly losing the strength on your arms and your upper body threatening to plop down onto the floor. “C-chan!”

“C’me here,” he groans, sneaking a hand underneath your tummy looking for your clit. Again, the position isn’t the best but he somehow makes it work. And when you feel his digits rubbing your nerves just at the same pace of his thrusts, you start clenching around him even harder.

“Oh my g-god,” that stimulation is exactly what you need to come undone. Jisung and Changbin did a hell of a job getting you closer to your orgasm, but this is exactly what you needed to reach your climax.

And a well deserved one.

“Come,” Chan grunts through gritted teeth, biting his lower lip while furrowing his eyebrows. The sight of your ass bouncing against his cock is enough to get him to come, but he needs you to come first. “I’ll come with you”.

“Ngh- Chan,” and just like some magic words, you’re coming right after his order. He can feel you tightening around him, trying to milk his cock just as badly as you did with the other two. And he can’t resist that feeling, so he sticks up to his word and comes inside you almost at the same time.

“Such- a good- little fucking slut,” his words are strained and painful. But his voice only contributes more to your own orgasm, just like the feeling of his cum filling you up.

It takes the two of you a few moments to actually stop —even after coming, he kept on fucking you slowly until he made sure to fuck all of their cum inside of you. The last thing he wanted was to make a mess inside the recording booth, but it was inevitable.

The floor is stained with all sorts of fluids, ones that are dripping out of your swollen pussy and others that no one knows how they got there.

“Jisung,” Chan sighs, caressing your hips while fixing his clothes. “Stay with her, I’ll go get something to clean her up. Make sure she’s alright, and take her to the sofa in the studio, ‘kay?”

Jisung nods, attentive, and he helps you get up off the floor with ease. He wraps his arm around you, and fixes the top part of your dress to which you mutter a quick and soft thank you.

“Changbin’s going to get you something to eat or drink, and I’ll take care of this. Alright?”

You nod, still supporting your whole weight on Jisung. Your sore legs can only do much.

“He’s going to be with you in the meantime, but we will all be right back,” Chan’s soft gaze is the opposite to what he showed inside the recording booth, but you absolutely adore the contrast.

“Yeah, ‘s okay,” you smile.

“You did good, yeah?” Chan smiles, caressing your hair, “sounded so pretty for us”.

You offer them a weak, yet satisfied smile, “my pleasure”.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #kpop smut #bang chan smut #changbin smut #han smut #jisung smut #bangchan smut

2K notes · View notes

greenorangevioletgrass · 6 months

Text

fever pitch (b.b) - prologue

soundtrack: mastermind - taylor swift pairing: footballer!bradley x popstar!reader synopsis: Bradley shoots his shot in public, but will he fumble when he meets you in person? warnings: language, drinking, meet cute notes: my first series in a while! this is shamelessly based on the epic Taylor Swift/Travis Kelce saga currently happening rn, and combine that with my innate love of football (the kicking kind, not the NFL kind) and... voila! I hope you enjoy this. Let me know what you think in the comments, reblogs, and asks. Happy reading! <3 ✨I do not have a taglist. Please follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notification to get the latest update on my fics✨

Soccer Sensation Bradley Bradshaw Fails To Shoot His Shoot With Y/N At Her Concert?

Arsenal captain Bradley Bradshaw may be among his club’s top scorers this season, but even he misses a chance in romance like the rest of us.

The 29-year-old athlete spoke about his missed opportunity with the multi-platinum songstress Y/N while speaking to his former teammate Héctor Bellerín on the latter’s podcast, “More Than A Footballer”, earlier this week.

When asked about any fun stuff he did last weekend, Bradshaw replied,

“I went to the Y/N concert at Wembley [Stadium]... it was awesome. It was pouring rain, but it was amazing. I don’t remember Wembley ever being that electric aside from, like, cup finals. She was sensational.”

Bellerín nods in agreement, having heard great things about the famed singer-songwriter’s live concerts.

Unprompted, the American midfielder then continued,

“If you’ve heard about the tour, there’s this tradition of trading friendship bracelets. And I actually made one with my number on it, hoping I could give it to her after the show…”

The Cockney-raised Spaniard cackled in surprise and teased him, “But she didn’t wanna see you, bruv? [That is] legend!”

“No hard feelings!” Bradshaw raised his hands in defense over the Zoom call. “She needed to dry off and get warm. Gotta make sure she stays healthy, protect those vocal cords. But yeah, I was a bit bummed out about it.”

Bellerín laughed and jokingly addressed the camera, “Y/N, if you’re watching, give my boy a chance, will you?”

Mononymous pop sensation Y/N is hot off of her Kaleidoscope North American Tour, which wrapped in September. Her six-show run at Wembley Stadium this November officially kicks off the European leg of her sold-out tour.

Will they be the next pop royalty and conquer the stadiums with their own crafts, or will this fizzle out as this week’s viral anecdote? The ball is in your court, Y/N.

Y/N’s representatives have not responded for comment.

***

Your Miu Miu heels click and clack against the ground. The pavement gleams after the rain and glistens under the streetlights. Everywhere you look, your eyes hurt. Down, and you worry about slipping into a puddle and falling on your ass. Forward, and a million camera flashes are ready to give you an aneurysm.

All in the name of reporting your night off of work, performing live in front of 90,000 people in a stadium.

In other words, all in a day’s work.

There’s a moment of reprieve, when the silvery white blitzes disappear into the dim tangerine lighting of the lobby. The flight down the stairs is so dark, you’re seeing green. It takes your eyes a moment to adjust, but as soon as they do, the thumping bass line of some dance music hits your ears. Clashing perfumes doused on the dancing, dressed-up bodies that you have to weave through.

You are seriously regretting your girl friends’ invite to a night out. You could’ve just had them over to your hotel, open a bunch of red wine, and you would’ve still had a blast. But no. You had to say yes to going to the Cuckoo Club with Lacey, Amara, and Jo.

And this evening is making you feel quite cuckoo.

There’s champagne at your booth and you’re much too eager to take a glass and start a toast. “Cheers, bitches!” you yell over the music, clinking your glass against theirs before downing the whole thing in one go.

It’s nowhere near enough.

There’s not enough buzz to dull the assault to your senses—not even after the three glasses of wine at dinner earlier. Everything is still too loud, too bright, too crowded, too… much.

“Hey!” you nudge Amara, who is sitting right next to you. “Let’s do shots!”

She turns to you, eyes widening at the slightest. “I thought you wanted to take it easy tonight!”

“Changed my mind,” you shrug, as you get up to the bar.

While you make your way through the crowd on the dance floor, Bradley Bradshaw looks up from his booth and does a double-take at the girl who just walked by. Even in a high-end club full of the well-dressed and well-heeled, people still get starstruck. And why wouldn’t they? You’re about as famous as an iPhone.

His eyes widen and immediately whips out his phone to shoot a text to his oldest and most trusted friend Natasha Trace.

‘Dude, I’m in the club and Y/N just walked in. What do I do??’

Natasha thankfully texts back almost immediately. Then again, maybe being a Communications Director for a major company requires her to be a good texter. ‘Wdym what do you do? Just go talk to her.’

‘You were supposed to introduce us!’ Bradley replies, eyes darting between his phone and you at the bar, conflicted.

Natasha is a mutual friend of yours, too, and when the Bracelet-gate clip went viral, she laughed in his face for a full 5 minutes before deciding to set the two of you up. But the schedule never really aligned, so he hasn’t got a chance to see you. Not even after he went to your concert with a friendship bracelet and a dream.

And now, seeing you here in the same room at the same time as him…

‘What do you want me to do, get down there and do it for you?’

‘...Can you?’

He senses the judgment even as the three dots appear on his screen.

‘Stop being a pussy, Bradshaw. Let me Netflix and chill with my gf in peace.’

Bradley scoffs, half-annoyed and half-fond. ‘Asshole. Have fun.’

The dance floor clears up, just enough to see that you’re right there. Leaning against the bar in your dress like a dirty daydream, talking to the bartender, and he couldn’t just let you go without a word. He thought about it, and he simply couldn’t.

“Oi, where are you off to?” His teammate Martin hollers, while the others watch him make his way to the bar in determined strides.

He squeezes past patrons across this jungle of a club, hoping to God that somebody hasn’t beaten him to talk to you yet, or you haven’t ducked out completely. Oh fuck. You’re still there, though. Good. You’re still at the bar, still glimmering under the mirrorball. Just a tap on the shoulder away. You can do it, Bradshaw…

“Excuse me, I—”

You feel the hand on your shoulder just as you turn and stand up, and in a flurry of miscoordination, looks up just as the other person moves in.

In a stroke of dumb luck, Bradley feels the top of your head slamming up against his nose and he groans in pain. “Ohh!”

“Shit! Oh my God…” you gasp, reaching out to the man in front of you. He’s tall, very tall, and you can’t quite see his face with his massive hand clutching his nose. “I’m so sorry…”

“No, it’s okay. My bad…” It really doesn’t seem like it, so he lets go of his nose and smiles sheepishly. Gosh, he must’ve looked stupid right now.

But you see it differently. What you see is a dashing man in a sleek tieless navy suit and a well-groomed mustache, straight out of a Cinemascope flick, ever so handsome despite his reddened nose from the way you just accidentally headbutted him. “No, that was totally mine. Are you okay?”

Your eyes are crystal clear even in the dim light, the concern is palpable in your gaze—and rightly so. It’s just that he’d take the headbutt any day, if it means he can look at your beautiful face. “I’m… I’m swell. Y/N, right?”

There’s a shift in your gaze. First, alert—you’re assessing how much of a potential threat this person is, whether they’re gonna be weird about you— and then it relaxes. Not a threat. Then a slightest hint of mischief, like she wants to know what kind of dynamics they would have. “Have we met?”

And boy, can he.

“We haven’t, actually. But I went to your show at Wembley earlier this week. You were amazing.” He offers a handshake. “Bradley Bradshaw.”

You didn’t quite catch his name over the blaring music, although you shake his hand anyway. “Sorry?”

He leans into your ear, “I’m Bradley Bradshaw.”

You don’t know which one makes your heart skip, the sudden close proximity, the warmth of his timbre, or the whiff of his perfume.

“Right. Nice to meet you, Bradley Bradshaw.” You accept his handshake, hoping he doesn’t see how flustered you are in the strobing purple light.

“Likewise.” He nods with a smile. “And may I just say… you look stunning.”

“What, this old thing?” You brush down the art nouveau-inspired Balmain dress on your body. You’re just being modest, of course; you know you’re dressed to the nines. You have never been much into facial hair, but somehow that mustache suits him very well. “You don’t look so bad yourself. You remind me of a… young Robert Mitchum. Or Paul Newman— or one of those Golden Age leading men.”

His face lights up. It’s hardly the first time he received that kind of compliment, but when it came from you, it feels… different. It feels special. It makes him just a little bolder. “Yeah? Maybe after a few drinks, I’ll be quoting lines from Butch Cassidy. Or would you prefer Cat On A Hot Tin Roof?”

This piques your interest. A man of culture, it seems. But of course, you can’t be too sure. “I’m more of a Paris Blues kinda gal, I’m afraid.”

Gosh, you don’t swoon so easily and he likes you so much for that. “Makes sense.”

“How so?”

“It’s a good underrated musical movie, for the musically gifted… And Sidney Poitier was just fantastic in that.”

“Huh.” You raise your eyebrows. You honestly thought he was just spouting the famous titles. But the fact that he has likely seen this hidden gem might just mean he’s really into it. “Aren’t you full of surprises.”

He leans in to speak in your ear yet again. “If you stick with me for a bit, I might show you another surprise or two.”

The music drowns out your racing heart just barely, and the bartender places a whole set of tequila shots on the bar top, and it snaps you out of your reverie for a moment.

“Wanna get some air?”

He seems surprised, but of course he wasn’t gonna throw away this shot. “Sure. Why not?”

You instruct the bartender to send the shots to your booth, not even spending ten seconds to ponder staying in this deafening hell hole. Not when this man looks like peace. Perhaps an undercurrent of mystery underneath, but his whole demeanor is as calm and comforting as those old-school movies you put on to fall asleep. At the same time, something about this person pulls you in, it’s almost magnetic, and you can’t help wanting to see this through.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #footballer!bradley #footballer!bradley x popstar!reader #top gun imagine #top gun au #ava writes #fever pitch

404 notes · View notes

lix-ables · 1 year

Text

— ꕤ THINGS THAT TURN SKZ ON.

pairing : skz x fem!reader

minors dni, smut | main masterlist

translating and/or reposting is not allowed.

໑ CHAN … SEXTING.

now don’t get me started on how much this man just loves sexting with you, be it when he’s at the studio or when you’re in the same room together and you have people over. chan would find any way to just tease you till you’re worked up. from audio messages that go on till late in the night, with both of you getting off to each other's voices while being apart to you texting him a simple ‘you know, i was wondering how i’d look with just your blazer on. and ofc with your fingers inside me :)’ my dude would definitely lose his shit right there.

໑ MINHO … DRESSES.

what minho would love the most is you in dresses, and it could be literally any kind of dress, but what turns him on the most, is when you’re getting ready to head out somewhere, on a date or just a party and you come out with a black mini dress – the material clinging to your body, and the straps are really thin – minho can see himself tugging on those, watching it slip down your skin as he’s fingering you. but right now you can bet that he’s not going to let his hand leave your thigh because that’s another thing he likes when you wear dresses – the access he has to one place he loves being in between.

໑ CHANGBIN … SIZE KINK.

gotta admit that this man has the hugest size kink anyone knows, because of the way he keeps reminding you of how small you are compared to him, especially when you’re clinging onto his biceps, with your nails digging into his skin as he pounds into you as he has a hand around your body to hold you close, while the other rests on the wall or the couch. you can expect him to tower over your figure, caging you against the wall when he fingers you or has his hips bucking into you, whispering the dirtiest things in your ear while never failing to remind you of your size.

໑ HYUNJIN … QUIROFILIA.

one thing hyunjin loves seeing, is how you get worked up over his hands and fingers. be it having it in your mouth with your tongue twirling around his finger and a little drool at the corner of your mouth, or be it him exploring your body just before he’s inside you, feeling you clench around his fingers and moaning in his ear, he loves every second of it. he loves the way you feel under him, under his touch, because he’s definitely the type to sigh and press kisses to your body as he’s fingering you. he’d definitely also be turned on when you ask him to leave his fingers around your neck when he accidentally and very lightly chokes you, because he wants to take his time with you, and he loves being the gentle lover.

໑ JISUNG … PRIMAL PLAY.

you can fight me on this, but jisung is the kind to love it when you nibble his ear or scratch his back when he’s inside you because with that he knows he’s making you feel good and being as cocky about it as he is, the way he treats you in bed and outside is somewhat similar because he’s shameless like that. when you’re outside with him, and you want to tease him in public, all you had to do was play with his hair a little, before letting your fingers trail up and down his back, light and dragging scratches is all it takes for him to drag you into a nearby closed space – a bathroom or a photo booth or even just someplace he knows no one will disturb you. he’d have his hand obviously clamped over your mouth to keep you from moaning because he knows how much you love being vocal for him. you can expect him to eat you out when you’re back home because he loves being scratched and tugged closer to you.

໑ FELIX … LINGERIE.

felix is the type who’d come shopping with you, holding your shopping bags, and waiting outside dressing rooms to just pull you close to him and mumble how good you’d look in everything you picked so far. but the minute you drag him to a store, taking him to the back where all around you were different shades and sizes and patterns of lingerie sets. sure enough, felix would have a shade of red across his face, but the moment you pull him into the dressing room with you, seating him outside before stepping out in nothing but lingerie in different colours to show him, that’s when he loses it. he’s the kind to drag you back inside, eyeing you up and down (respectfully obvs.) before pulling you close to him to feel the material under his touch, only to lick his lips in response and say “we’re getting them all,” because he wants his own personal show, and not have anyone staring at you.

໑ SEUNGMIN … HAIR PULLING.

just because he’s polite in public, doesn’t mean he’ll be the same in bed too. seungmin is the type to be between your legs, with your legs over his neck and his hands gripping onto your thighs to hold you in place. it’s when your fingers come to slowly tug on his hair, and he lets out a hum of response, his grip on your skin getting tighter as he pushes himself closer to your pussy, his tongue licking all of your juices. it’s when you grind into his face, letting him bring his fingers to help with his tongue this time, making you tug onto his hair even harder now, your fingers tangling into his short strands, feeling it tickle your skin because of how short it is. a small groan from him leaves you coming onto his face, but he doesn’t stop there – seungmin is between your legs till he’s had your legs shaking and your toes curling, so if that means you tugging and pulling on his hair all night, so be it – because he’s all in for it.

໑ JEONGIN … BULGE KINK.

we all know how much this boy loves being inside you – be it when he’s fucking you, or when he’s simply just cock warming you. jeongin is the kind to tease the shit out of you while being inside you – from randomly just or “accidentally” thrusting into you, making you gasp in pleasure to having his palm flat on your stomach where he can feel a slight bulge, where he can feel the tip of his cock at your abdomen, and he grips your waist even tighter than before because he feels you squeeze just once. that’s when he whispers about how he can feel himself all the way in your abdomen, and maybe, just maybe he’d thrust himself into you, knowing that it frustrates you more than anything, when he teases you, which makes him bring his hand lower, spreading your legs wider than before, just to thrust into you again.

taglist: @hwajin @starlostseungmin @chrisbahng @niinjo @chvnnie @lixhues @joonszn @cherryhanji @blueberry-chan @dnadoublefelixx @ethereallino @stuckwithaphobiaa @chewryy @bangchanbabygirlx @zizis-world12 @aimeexx @whatudowhennooneseesyou @nightlychans @americanokisses @katieraven @comet-falls @hwan-g @svintsandghosts @idek-at-this-point-lol @es-kay-zee @writerracha @bbujiikseu @lethallyprotected @lino-jagiyaa @bubblelixie @starblackink

note. tried a new format or whatever. do lemme know how you like this one !! feedback is appreciated ( mainly cause i wrote 1.1k in an hour be proud of me kwjxjenff ) also @svngcore wrote the primal play for you babe 😔✊🏽

3K notes · View notes

fanaticsnail · 5 months

Text

Something Like That

Masterlist here, Request link and mood board here.

Word Count: 4,048

Hi everyone! This is the last x-mas fic I can push out before my time away over the holiday period interstate. I hope you enjoy reading for our boy Zoro. Thank you @sordidmusings for keeping me motivated! Merry Christmas, Anon! Just in case it peaks your interest @gingernut1314

Warnings: Fluff, Christmas, talks of battle scars, kissing, dancing

Just like all of the times you had ventured to Baratie, this time had every intention of being no more than passing time with delicious food. The floating restaurant atop a mighty ship was your favorite stop-off on your way home to Lougetown to visit with your extended family; the food’s glowing reputation almost did justice to the divine quality and the accompanying drinks were what dreams were made of. The fact that the staff was comprised of reformed pirates also held an appeal, considering your ties to that lifestyle as a skilled archer.

Bidding farewell to the vessel you had bartered onto for voyage, you heard a strange amount of merriment floating melodically from the wide fish-mouth at the bar lounge of the grand restaurant. You furrowed your brows, arching one up as curiosity held you captivated by the songs seeping to the surface with a wide array of demonstrated skill. Some vocals were sung blissfully, others shouted with no skill depicted within their throats.

Taking deliberate steps with your bow in hand, quiver strapped firmly against your waistbelt and traveling satchel thrown over your shoulder, you sauntered to the grand doors and lobby of the restaurant to meet the matradee. He welcomed you with a broad smile, which rose to sit comfortably and warmly, peaking at the apples of his cheeks. His regular white formal garb was replaced with a deep emerald green dinner jacket, a small bushel of pointed leaves with red shimmery berries strung together by twine.

“Welcome back to Baratie!” He exclaimed with glee, “I have your usual table awaiting you.” He gestured a guiding hand to the right and indicated for you to follow his direction to the bottom of the twirled staircase.

Your confusion seemed to set in further as you took in your surroundings. The usual bare bars of the railing were ornately decorated with vines of sharpened, needle-like sprigs and small warm lights shining amongst the shrubbery akin to starlight. Your gaze was drawn upwards, noticing a small and sporadic assortment of floral clusters clinging to the roof and down the pillars of the supporting canopy. The bunches were of pale sage green, floating romantically down and arching their spindles out to grasp the pearled white flowers amongst the greenery.

As your gaze fell to rest upon the circular room, you noticed individuals joining against each other in embraces of romantic twirling and swaying. Their voices would raise to join with the tune regardless of how skilled they were to carry the tune, prompting you to raise an apprehensive smile to your lips.

“What is going on, sir?” you asked the fishman matradee as he chaperoned you to your regular table, “this all seems rather strange and unusual for a Monday afternoon, don’t you think?” Your tone of playful jest prompted him to chuckle in response, pulling out your chair for you to sit within your corner booth. Wordlessly, he took your bow and satchel while you unstrapped your quiver to disarm yourself to place your valuable items to be placed in the cloakroom.

“One of our kitchen-hands has returned to us, settling his dining debt from his time with us,” the matradee informed you, a playful twinkle drawn up to his eye, “and in celebration, we’re attempting to showcase a custom he had picked up on his travels.”

You hummed in response with a polite nod, brows raising with interest as you pulled your gaze over to view the diners amongst the crowd. Noticing jovial laughter and an uproar of cheers, you pulled your gaze to seek out its source. A young man with a straw hat atop dark loose curls immediately captured your attention, his eyes upturned and jaw hanging wide as he allowed another heartily laugh escape from his chest. His arms were hooked around the necks of two of his companions, drawing them in closer to his chest; a woman with short orange hair clutched within his right arm, while a bandana-clad man with a similar cheery expression lay gathered within his left.

Scanning over the remainder of the party members surrounding him, your eyes first drew to examine the tall, blonde companion. His hair skewed the view of his left eye, but what you could make of his right; he was a delight to look at. After holding your eyes against the blonde for longer than you truly thought appropriate, your eyes met with the final stranger of the party. His dark hazelnut orbs immediately locked on your probing gaze, bearing a protective intensity, his moss-coloured locks raised without much care as to which direction the strands fell.

As his eyes continued to hold your attention, you stared him down to reciprocate his wordless challenge. His brows furrowed briefly before a wolf-like grin rose to his lips, smirking up to the right-hand side of his face with an air of arrogance. Training as a skilled archer had drilled the practice of continual focus on a multitude of targets. This small challenge set your heart alight with a similar thrill to hunting a foe, the green-haired man not shying away from your attention and focus.

He was captivating. His air of protection and loyalty to his companions transferred without question of translation. You watched as he drew his dominant hand to fall to rest against a white blade hilt at his side, his wrist hanging limply against the handle atop the scabbard. He arched his left brow up at you and gestured with his chin, indicating to you that he would not shy away from a fight if one was to be offered to him. You arched up your brow with your own smirk, gesturing lightly with your hands over your torso and falling down to your waist; indicating you were currently unarmed.

Without breaking your gaze from his challenge, you reached your hand below the white tablecloth, shielding your hand from retrieving an item from your handbag beside you. You let out an audible laugh as you watched him fix his posture more upright, his smirk falling from his lips as his frown deepened in partial alarm. After feeling the hard object you were searching for, you raised it to no longer be obscured from view and rotated it within your hands to demonstrate how non-threatening the item was.

His face immediately dropped at his idiocy as his eyes took in the novel you were holding within your hands, closing his eyes and having a small smile rise to his lips. As soon as his eyes closed and soft chuckle fell from his lips, you relished in the knowledge that he was the first to back away from the intense wordless challenge he initiated with his eyes, indicating that you had won the small victory.

While his eyes were closed, you fully examined his face. Eyes first shamelessly raking over his hair, trailing down and over his closed eyes and settling on his parted lips. His coy smile now completely risen against his lips held a foreign beauty, the creases of his cheeks indicating such softness was not a common occurrence. He was intriguing, someone you would have considered pursuing should you have had more time between your usual meal at Baratie and the upcoming ferry you had booked to shepherd the remainder of your journey.

You shook your head, uncaring whether he would meet his intense gaze against yours again as you opened the pages of the novel you had begun reading on your journey out to sea, picking up where you last left off. The words whittled within the pages were of a variety of archery techniques and forms, a gift bestowed upon you by your favorite uncle - the one you held the most joy in rejoining with in Lougetown.

A gentle cough interrupts the passage you were skimming, drawing your attention up to the waiter beside you. He placed down in front of you a seasonal beverage, the steam rising from the rim wafting towards your nose to envelop your senses with its rich, velvety and creamy scent. You thanked the waiter as he placed an accompanying biscotti beside the treat, the crumbled texture littering the small side dish with pebbles of its buttery substance.

Reaching towards the handle, you raised the drink to your face, gently parting your lips and circling them to blow on the scorching liquid. After relinquishing your gentle blows to your particular satisfaction, you drew up the mug and took a quick sip of the contents. Immediately flooded by the indulgent flavor of the caramelized chocolate mixing with the creamy and decadent texture of the frothed milk. You sighed, breathing out your pleasure at being once again welcomed by the perfect combination of flavors offered to you at Baratie. Placing down again onto the circular, ceramic dish, you lifted your novel to continue reading from the last page you left of; blissfully ignorant or willfully ignoring the intense pair of eyes continuing to hold firm their locked gaze upon you.

“Something the matter, Zoro?” the Straw-Hat captain asked from beside the swordsman, clutching the bone of a perfectly prepared tomahawk steak within his right hand while chewing on the sinew, “you’ve been staring at that table for a long time now.” The swordsman remained quiet, not truly hearing the words spoken to him.

“”M’fine, Captain,” He mumbled. It was true, he had become entranced by the person he was currently inspecting. His bewitchment had only intensified as he witnessed your knowing and examining gaze falling to seek out the loud and joyous laughter falling in the air of the surroundings. You had to be a hunter, by the looks of you: whether it be seeking bounties, hunting animals or contesting mark-matching with the bow you allowed the fishman to leave with.

“You sure there, Moss-Head?” Sanji taunted him, his signature smirk ruffling the temperament of the swordsman further, “you seem awfully focussed on the-... -Oh. Oh, they’re quite pretty, aren’t they?” Zoro snapped his gaze up to focus on the chef whose head was now shamelessly pointed directly at you, eyes searching your body and examining him the way Zoro was trying hard not to.

“What of it, waiter?” he growled in a disinterested snarl. Sanji slowly dragged his gaze from your body over to face the swordsman once more, eyes darkening with a challenging intensity.

“I think they’re very pretty, indeed,” Sanji’s exposed brow twitched in an upturned flirtatious suggestion. Usopp smirked, leaning in on his elbows to get a better view of the show Sanji was absolutely going to engage against the swordsman while Nami shook her head. Rolling her eyes, she sat back to rest her shoulders against the plush booth, tilting her head down to shield her smirk to remain hidden in her expression of amusement at their rivalry.

“I think they’re so pretty, in fact,” Sanji snuck another glance at you, watching as you pursed your lips while turning another page of your novel, “I think I’m going to ask them to dance the next round.”

“What’d you say, waiter?” Zoro tilted his head, attempting to hold his composure and feign disinterest at the challenge. The subtle gruff anchor of his voice gave him away, Zoro winced at his own vocal tone. Sanji chuckled at the failed attempt, choosing to draw his elbows against the table and cradle his chin to rest atop his laced fingertips.

“It’s not like you’re man enough to ask her to dance, anyway,” Sanji’s smirk rose into a broader grin, relishing in Zoro’s physical reaction of sharpening his posture to rise against the jab. The blonde chef chuckled darkly, drawing his lips to press against his fingertips before suggesting with another jab: “Someone like that looks like they’d prefer to be held in the arms of a real man, not something like you, Demon.”

“I’ll let the two of you know when I see one,” the orange-haired navigator murmured in a low tone, her voice immediately capturing the attention of the two bickering crewmates. Usopp feigned pain, clutching at his heart briefly before nodding in confirmation of her comments: both flinging their heads back in unbridled laughter at the motion. Luffy continued to remain blissfully ignorant, finally sucking at the large bone to rid the object from all edible elements of the dish while offering a small laugh of his own. Although he truly had no idea why they were laughing at that moment, he was happy his crew was getting along - to the best of his knowledge, anyway.

That was the occasion after all: merriment and joyfulness being the central point of the entire reason for this celebration. Sanji and Zoro turned back to face each other again, eyes bearing an electric intensity as they met their rival’s challenge.

“No,” Zoro gruffly growled, his lips curling in a small snarl. Sanji arched his head to stretch out his neck, eyes closing as he felt a gentle ‘pop’ and sighing in reaction.

“You gonna actually approach them and ask them to dance?” Sanji lazily taunted him, his smirk returning, “or am I going to get there first?”

At that final nudge, Zoro was away from the table and almost stomping his heavy boots against the polished floorboards like a chastised toddler. Sanji chuckled at the response, reaching forward to claim a portion of the confit potatoes to place on his plate.

“I gotta know, man,” Usopp leant in towards Sanji, his broad smile rising to his cheeks, “were you that interested in them, or just wanted to get a rise from Zoro? I can never tell with you.”

“That’s my secret, Great Captain Usopp,” Sanji’s left corner of his lip curled up in a smirk with a playful glimmer in his eye returning, “I’m always interested in getting a rise out of him. Beautiful strangers are always a bonus. My favorite is when those two things are not mutually exclusive,” he chuckled, collecting an assortment of ingredients on his fork and raising the utensil up to his lips, “two birds with one stone, and all that.”

The thud of heavy boots alerted you to a figure closing the distance between themselves and your body. The thumps of the hard boots against the polished floor reverberated with a sense of danger. Patiently, with a sigh exiting your parted lips, you placed a small piece of parchment back into your novel to tab the chapter and slowly turned to look at the approaching figure.

“Can I help you?” you asked, a bored tone with a subtle air of cautious warning befalling your cadence. As you drew your eyes up, you noticed the same intense gaze from earlier falling to meet your sat position on the table. His eyebrow seemed to twitch, indicating slight agitation as his jaw was clenched tightly shut. Cocking your head to the side, you allowed a partial softness to grace your features as you danced your eyes between focussing on each of his hazelnut orbs.

“I-, uh-,” the man was stumbling over his words, unable to string a sentence of cohesion together. He raised his hand to the scruff of his neck, pinching the flesh with his calloused hands and grimacing at his expression.

“You?” you cooed up at him, a smirk rising once more to your lips. You shook your head, hair dancing at the small sway of movement. Your attention was once again captivated by him; the arrogant energy you had initially met your gaze with was dismantled under his apprehensive aura.

Zoro had every intention of proving how much of a ‘real man’ he was to his crew, although not so much of a display in masculinity; but more of a need to not allow Sanji the pleasure or satisfaction of flirting with someone so enchanting as you. He was going to simply offer his hand to you, smirk in a gesture to ask you to join him on the dance floor and parade you in front of his crew. But alas, as soon as his eyes met with yours once again; he felt helpless and small under your huntress eyes.

“Well, are you going to stand there all rigid, swordsman?” you taunted, reclining in your seat and resting your elbow atop the backrest, “Or are you going to take a seat?”

Again, Zoro found himself taken aback by your direct approach. He followed your index and middle finger as you gestured to the empty seat in front of you. He shook his head a little to rid him of his prior bewilderment and then apprehensively moved to withdraw the chair to take a seat. You took him in, watching his deliberate movements in the way he sat atop the chair: every action intentional. As he sat, he offered no conversation other than broody silence. His eyes would flitter over to check-in on his prior dining companions and grimacing as his gaze was met with taunting gestures from his crew.

“Friends of yours?” you asked him, brow arched and reaching for the handle of your mug.

“Something like that,” he uttered in a gruff tone, arms folding abrasively over his chest. You chuckled at his tone, taking a small sip from your mug and eyeing him deliberately.

“Care to share further, or would you prefer having another wordless exchange?” you placed the empty cup back down on the dish and offered another challenging smile. He snapped his eyes back to yours and his smirk rose again to his lips.

“They’re my crew,” his rumbly chuckle was withheld in his chest beneath his smirk, “I like half of them, but respect the lot of them.”

You hummed in response, index finger dancing atop the rim of your relinquished mug of hot chocolate. “Would you like to tell me more? I’m all ears about the ones you like and the ones you’re less fond of.”

Over the course of the next few hours, the swordsman and you would swap tales of travels throughout the East Blue and the Grand Line. Foes bested, beasts conquered and sorrows overcome: the tales of injuries you had both granted to opponents and received at the hands of them. He leant back against the back of his chair and slowly unbuttoned his shirt and hooked his fingers within the collar and hemline of his shirt to draw it back to showcase proudly to you. You felt your breath hitching in your throat at not only the physique of the swordsman, but in awe at the large healed mark slashed across his torso. You felt utterly ill-seasoned with your smaller indents of arrows and thrown dagger marks littering your shoulders. As you hooked your middle finger in your left shoulder strap and coyly revealed the small silver, healed markings, Zoro was held captivated by the marks to showcase your tales of battle.

Enamored, awestruck and enchanted; you both held a small lilt of encaptured silence, leaning in on your forearms against the white tablecloth and gazing into the eyes of one another. Respecting your mutual combatant skill, both you and Zoro’s eyes fell half-lidded in adoration as you held each other’s undivided attention.

The music and merriment fell into a slow tune, reflective of the seasonal tradition Baratie was attempting to celebrate with succession. Zoro was the first to break the silence between you, placing his left hand on the table with his palm up.

“Would you wanna dance?” he asked, his drawl gruff but attempting to remain polite in his request. You smiled, reaching your right hand to fall within his own, his hand immediately circling around your fingers firmly. His thumb circled over your four fingers, caressing his calloused and experienced hands over your skin.

“You don’t seem like much of a dancer, Zoro,” you commented, both rising to your feet. He drew you in close. Keeping his left hand extended upwards, and raking his right over the mid of your back to draw your torso flush with his, he uttered: “I’m not, but it seemed appropriate. Considering the holiday, and all.”

“Ah, yes. We never did quite get to discussing what all this,” you gestured with your chin, smiling at the decorations surrounding the room, “was all about.”

“I’m not really sure on the minor details,” he shrugged, awkwardly swaying you to the music, “Cap’n just said something about different traditions needing to be incorporated. Something about food, music, dancing, and decoration-...-oh. Oh, no-.”

You furrowed your brows, looking up at the roof to follow after his risen gaze. A small sprig of white, pearled flowers hung over your heads, accompanied by sage-coloured oblong leaves wrapped in ribbons of satin and twine. You cocked your head, left brow raising in curiosity at the flowers and their significance. Drawing your gaze back to the swordsman in front of you, you noticed he was stooping himself all the more closer to you.

“What are you doing, swordsman?” you questioned, halting him in his descention towards you.

“This is one of those traditions,” he said, unlacing your right hand from his left and wordlessly asking with his eyes for permission to cradle your cheek within his palm. You looked at the hand first, then drew your eyes back up to meet his intense gaze. Smiling, you placed your cheek into his awaiting palm while holding his gaze firmly against your own.

“Touching a stranger’s face beneath strange flowers is a strange tradition,” you furrowed your brows at him once more in curiosity.

“Kissing them beneath strange flowers,” he corrected you, leaning to join his lips immediately against your own. A small squeak fled from your lips, eyes widening as you felt the intensity falling from his chapped lips onto your own.

This was not how you pictured your return to Baratie to go at all. Sure, you had dreamed of meeting a handsome stranger and sharing an embrace with them. The stars just never aligned for you in any way that drew you close enough to share a kiss with them, only ever moments of story swapping or sharing a meal or two with many travelers accompanying you.

You allowed yourself to become relaxed into the embrace, reaching your hands up to circle his neck below the assortment of flowers. His brows furrowed in concentration as he inhaled sharply through his nose in reaction to your reciprocation. You smiled, closing your eyes and tickling the scruff of his neck beneath your fingertips; lacing his untamed sea-sprayed locks within them. He expertly opened your mouth to taste more of your lips by angling his chin upwards against your own. A small groan rumbled within his chest, passing from his mouth to fall against your own as he continued to cradle you against himself.

Reluctantly, you pulled away from his embrace with your eyes remaining closed. You felt a small pause falling with his next actions, before you felt a warm forehead press against your own. You reopened your eyes, your half-lidded and lazy smile mirrored against the face of the swordsman you just shared a kiss with.

Interrupting your embrace, an announcement was called over the speakers. The crackle of cables and wires sprung to life within the metal relay, alerting you with a vocal command: “The next vessel to Lougetown has arrived. All those traveling to Lougetown, report to the peer with your documents. Next vessel to Lougetown will depart in twenty minutes.”

“That’s me, unfortunately,” you sighed, eyes remaining closed but lips drawn up in a wide smile.

“Business in Lougetown?” Zoro’s whisper rumbled within his chest.

“Something like that,” you withdrew your forehead from its place resting against his own, “much akin to your crew, although I’m held attached by biological relation.”

“Anyone I’d know?” Zoro smirked, eyes remaining partly glazed over enamored by your small daliance.

“I never ‘name drop’, swordsman,” you cooed up at him while unlacing your arms from his embrace, “but if you’re in the general area,” you retrieved your belongings from your table and laced your handbag and novel over your shoulder, “I’ll be at the G-5 Marine Base with my uncle for the next month for training.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” he smirked, eyes upturning to indicate his joy at the thought of meeting with you once again.

#x reader #one piece #opla #opla fic #one piece live action #zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x you #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro #xmas fic #opla xmas #mistletoe

236 notes · View notes

saerins · 3 months

Note

HeyYy I’m a little slow but how did eita and yn realize that they were into each other in that way or desired each other like that? (IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN 😜) Like did eita just hit yn with “dtf? 😈” on a random Thursday orrrr 😭

extra chapter: blurred

꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ — part of priceless. eita doesn’t understand why it irks him seeing other guys hit on you. after one night together with you, he at least knows he’s fucked.

content: otoya eita x female reader. smut. takes place in university, before “friendship”. eita calls reader princess, alcohol, profanity, mentions of death, penetration, spanking, cunnilingus, virgin!reader, eita makes reader cum multiple times. word count: 3.3k

༝༚༝༚ hahahaha i am so normal about university!yn & otoya guys … so completely normal </3 side to nonnie: yn and eita have always found each other attractive ! they just never thought they’d go that far at first :)

you’ve always been like this, so why does it bother him more than ever?

two months. that’s how long it’s been since you two talked. for two people who always talk shit all day long everyday, that’s a long time. it’s eita’s fault. he knows. maybe he shouldn’t have been so vocal about how you should act. it’s not his place.

he knows that.

he hasn’t apologised.

it’s a saturday night, and you’re just out having fun with your course mates—it’s not illegal. and eita’s with his bandmates, and a date to top it off—some girl who came up to him after a performance and said she was a fan; in hindsight it was probably just to get into his pants and yet she’s still here, two dates later.

she’s here, and he knows she’s probably beside him wondering why the fuck he’s staring at some other girl when she’s grinding against him but he can’t help himself. no matter how loud the music, no matter how crowded the club, no matter how miss bombshell here rubs her ass against him, he can’t tear his eyes away from you.

you don’t like to club. you barely like those people you’re with. eita knows why you’re acting like this.

so unserious. so smiley. so forced.

“oi, takuya,” eita calls out to one of his bandmates, setting his whiskey, neat on their table. “she’s all yours,” he says, shoving the poor miss bombshell to his bandmate, her cries of objection going unheard because he’s making his way to you.

there’s a guy trying to feel you up, your course mate. what the fuck is his name again?

“yes, shiro?” eita hears you coo once he’s close enough.

right, shiro takanori. notorious playboy, almost as notorious as eita. born rich, heir to one of the most exclusive resort clubs in japan, already in a couple of big modelling gigs thanks to his naturally good looks. silver spoon, trust fund idiot who has his hands on your hips and such lustful eyes and that smirk that says he knows he’s going to get exactly what he wants.

unluckily for him, eita’s here. and like hell is he ever going to be so lucky to bring you back home to his mansion.

with a firm grip around your bare waist—because of course you had to wear something so sexy tonight, that black single shoulder strap crop top of yours—eita cuts in, only shooting shiro a warning glare before pulling you aside, dragging you behind him.

“hey, what the fuck?” you protest once he stops at the empty booth near the side. you sound frustrated, and upset, and somehow eita knows what the fuck is going on inside that little still-twisted mind of yours. “i was talking to him, you know?”

eita scowls, the most judgemental look on his face as he listens to you. “yeah? were you trying to seduce him too or what?”

there’s a defiant look in your eyes. you’re only a little tipsy, so you still have the better part of your common sense with you. “so what if i was? how’s that any of your business?”

what a way to have your first big disagreement since you became friends. this is the part where both of you are thankful that the music’s too loud for anyone else to hear you.

eita scoffs, tongue poking against his inner cheek as he looks at you in disbelief. he’s not an infinitely patient person. especially not when he’s looking at you not behaving like yourself. he takes a step back, leaning against the wall, hands in his pants pocket as he looks from the bigger picture.

your father just died not long ago. you have to deal with your mother and the inhumane way she treats you. you have to make sure you score well for everything lest they take your scholarship away.

you’re losing it.

probably.

so much so that you’re willing to look for someone like shiro takanori to relieve your pain. eita doesn’t get it—he’s right here. is he worse than shiro?

“you know what? forget it,” you sigh, your eyes glazing over, the potential tears betraying your spiteful exterior. you don’t say anything else before you’re storming out of the club, with eita struggling to catch up behind you.

he’s calling out your name but you ignore him. he’s sure. your hearing isn't that bad. and fuck because it’s raining and you’re too stubborn to stop and so is he so he ends up running after you, both of you soaked to the bone because it’s quite heavy and he thinks you find solace in it since it can mask your tears.

the intersection where the both of you meet before school starts because the diner you like is just around the corner—that’s where he catches up to you. eita’s fingers connect around your wrist and you try to yank it away but it’s no use.

“let go of me.”

the rain’s pouring all around you and your voice isn’t even clear but eita can’t let you go. not when he knows he’s guilty of leaving you alone when he shouldn’t have. all because of his stupid pride.

maybe he should’ve listened to you.

is that what you need? distraction?

it’s simple and complicated both at the same time. eita doesn’t care about your small crushes and fleeting flings, but why does he care so much back there, when he saw you with shiro like that?

before he knows it, his hand is pulling you in by the back of your neck, his lips on yours and it’s so much better than he imagined. yeah, he’s imagined what it’d be like to kiss you recently, for some reason. and you must really need the distraction, because you’re kissing him back.

“what was that for?” you ask, breathily, foreheads pressing together as your fingers fist at his shirt.

it takes everything in eita to pull away, not that it’s because he has any form of self control when it comes to these things, but partly because of the rain and partly because of the conscious fact that you’re one of his best friends and that until tonight, he never thought he’d actually ever cross a line with you.

eita ignores your question because it’s too tempting not to. “let’s get out of this rain, it’s all your fucking fault,” eita murmurs, though his strong words are cancelled out by his hands around yours as he walks with you in the direction back to the dorms.

“here.” eita tosses you one of his clean jerseys, the one he wears for the national team. you once told him that’s your favourite one. you always steal his shit. “i need that for my next game though, so don’t stash that away.”

you snort, “didn’t know you realised.”

eita looks at you from over his shoulder, white hair matted against his face, a squinted stare as he deadpans at you. “of course i did, you stole three jerseys and one windbreaker.”

just like you are when you’re around him, eita realises you’re so shameless, your grin lighting up your face. “and you let me.” because you of all people know he always asks for his jerseys back, especially after all his random dates try to wear it and never return it. (he’s already gotten in trouble for that with his coach once.)

do you even know what you’re doing? eita thinks you don’t. it’s just the way you are, it’s how you act—this is all natural to you, not forced.

his gaze falls to your bare skin not concealed by your crop top, to your legs under that pleated skirt. thank fuck he didn’t let you get too carried away with shiro.

“change and then get out,” eita tells you, pulling his shirt over his head. he doesn’t think he can stand another minute with you here looking like that; hair a mess, soaked top to bottom, makeup slightly smudged and yet still looking like a fucking vision.

it’s very annoying, actually.

why’d he have to insist on making friends with you that day?

“mean,” you mumble, and eita ignores you. because you need to get out of here, and fast, before he regresses to fifteen minutes ago when he couldn’t control himself. and you’re like a spoiled brat, purposefully saying shit that you know will get under his skin. “hm, maybe i’ll ask shiro if he’s still at the club.”

shit like that.

“are you—” but the moment eita turns around, you’re suppressing a grin. stupid, just trying to rile him up. but it’s not like you won’t go looking for it—distractions. you will. you’ll look for bad news because that’s what you need right now.

he gives up. he gives up on trying to play the role of a good friend. you’re testing his limits and it turns out they’re not really that high. and lucky for you, he’s always found you pretty. you’re so fucking pretty and you’re interesting, even with the way you’re inching closer to him right now.

“fuck, you’re too much,” eita murmurs under his breath, the last of his will being stripped away. he’s already letting his hands pull you closer.

“i can always find someone else,” you whisper, both of you avoiding each other’s gaze.

“don’t you dare.” no, eita doesn’t want that. fuck, why doesn’t he want to share? he uses his fingers to tip your chin up, searching your eyes for the answers he already knows. “you wanna forget, y/n?”

you nod, the recollection of everything that’s happened within the past few months already threatening to make the tears fall. but eita catches you before they do, because he knows you’re so stubborn that you’d rather hold everything back than let them out, even if it’s him.

“just physical, ‘kay?”

eita nearly scoffs, but his tongue is too busy to let him. “yeah yeah, if you end up falling for real i’ll kill you,” he says, in between kisses, both of you ending up on the bed, eita hovering over your body as he marks your neck.

“don’t worry, you won’t have to.”

maybe it’s the fact that he never thought that he’d ever touch you like this, make out with you in his room, that he’s already hard as a rock even without doing anything yet. his mouth travels downward—neck, collarbone, chest—and your moans only get louder.

there’s a way that your voice makes him excited more than he usually is, the way your chest is heaving that urges him to devour you right then and there. his hands travel down to your thighs, pulling them apart, and the way your head pops up to look at him when his lips press kisses on your thigh—those sweet, innocent eyes—makes him pause.

“you’ve never done it before?” eita asks, softer in comparison to the loudness of the rainstorm outside.

and the moment you hesitantly shake your head, eita feels his heart beating faster in his chest. yeah, definitely a good idea to have taken you away from shiro. he swallows the lump in his throat, the idea that he’ll be your first seems strangely enticing.

it’s not surprising to him though, considering you’ve never had a boyfriend since he’s known you, and with the way you’re so stiff, anyone can tell.

eita’s hands smoothly caress your skin as he gets up, looking over your body once. “tell me if you ever want me to stop,” he tells you, hands travelling underneath your top, slowly lifting it up and off of you, your face tilted to the side, too awkward to look at him. you know he’s been with multiple girls—most of which you know are models and the like. it makes you a little self conscious of your own body, but eita doesn’t care. “look at me.”

you do, your eyes travelling to his face first, looking at the barely contained lust from behind his green irises. he’s already half naked, so you can see again now, just how toned he is, eyes shamelessly dragging over his form. but so is his, his hand now snaking up your thighs, pulling your skirt up over your stomach, the way you wear that bold lace lingerie driving him crazy.

wordlessly, you sit up on the edge of the bed, your boldness taking centre stage, fingers unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, the cunning in your eyes looking so, so attractive to him. you even know to pull a condom out of his pocket.

“i know you, otoya eita,” you whisper, and eita doesn’t doubt it. if anything, you’re probably the only person who knows him as well as you do. nobody else comes close.

he takes the condom from you, opening it with his teeth while you get rid of his boxers before handing it to you, a smirk on his face. “first lesson, innocent girl,” he says, a thumb caressing your cheek. “put it on for me.”

with a sneaky grin, you stick your tongue out, giving his tip a little kitten lick before anything else—what are you trying to do, give him a heart attack? eita can barely contain himself just looking at you like this; slightly wet and looking sexy as hell. fuck, he’s so fucked, he wants to know what it feels like to be inside of you so bad. a muffled groan rumbles in his throat, and you take that as a sign to lick a stripe up his length some more, making him throw his head back, taking the chance to roll the condom over his dick. his hand comes up to your hair and tugs on it, pulling you away.

“be a good girl and lie the fuck down, now,” he tells you, though it doesn’t matter since he pushes you down, immediately pulling your panties aside and relishing in how wet you are. soaking, and not from the rain. “nobody’s ever touched you there before, huh, y/n?” he wraps his arms under your thighs and pulls you closer to the edge of the bed.

eita’s breath is hot against your pussy, partially covered by the lace before he tugs it to the side again, kissing the area around it, watching as you clench around nothing. “e-eita, please—”

he snorts—you don’t even know what you want, do you? you just know that you can’t get rid of the frustration by yourself. no, because no matter how you’ve ever helped yourself in the past, if you ever did, eita’s going to make you feel a lot better. good enough to make you forget everything.

he’ll just give you a taste of your own medicine, giving your clit a quick little lick, watching as you squirm just from that alone. resigning, he pushes a finger inside you—just one, he doesn’t want to break you just yet—watching your face as your back arches, the pleasured moan that rolls off your tongue threatening to make him addicted. you’re so wet and so hot and you’re his best friend but fuck that, he wants you. physically. every. single. part of you.

you’re already wet enough, but his mouth lingers longer on your pussy, licking your folds and tasting every bit of you. he likes the way you moan his name, and the way your fingers grasp at the sheets and his hair. you’re a lot more addictive than any other girl he’s ever met and fuck if he’s going to let this be the one and only time he gets to have you.

eita pulls his finger out of you, lining his dick in front of your entrance, moving the hair away from your face. you’re all hot and bothered and he really wants to know what you look like when you’re getting fucked. probably better than anything he’s ever seen—in person or on video.

he leans down, hands on either side of you, silently begging you to just tell him to stop but you don’t. your hands only trace a trail down his chest and he can’t keep still anymore.

“fuck, can’t take it anymore,” he groans into your ear, body pressed on top of yours as he gently nibs on your lobe. “i’ll try to go slow, okay? but you’re so fucking hot like this i can’t promise it won’t hurt.”

“just do it, i don’t care, i need you,” you tell him, all rushed and muffled because both of you are at your wit’s end.

that’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s slowly pushing himself into you, groaning out your name as he feels your tight, gummy walls through the latex, your nails already digging into his back.

“you okay?” he asks, stilling for a moment.

“i’ll get used to it,” you tell him, feeling the burn from the stretch of your first time. “just fuck me already, please.”

shit-eating smirk on his face, he mocks you, white hair falling all over you, the messiness of it only making him look even more like bad news. he moves his hips achingly slow, watching every minor change in your expression, from the way your brows arch to the way you bite your lip.

“we’re alone in here, princess, don’t hide your sounds,” he tells you, a hint of condescension in his tone.

until tonight, you didn’t think you’d ever let him touch you like this, feel you this intimately. yet here he is, pushing your bra up and putting your nipple in his mouth while he fucks into you, tongue flicking at your perky bud, making you feel all sorts of things you’ve never experienced before.

and you listen to him, his name falling out your mouth more times tonight than it has since the time you’ve known him—his lips moving from your chest to your neck to your lips, hungry as if he absolutely needs to claim his territory on every part of you.

eita shifts so that he can look at all of you, watch as your breasts bounce as he thrusts in and out of you, watch as your slick coats the base of his dick as you beg him not to stop, as if he could. fuck, he could cum just like this but he doesn’t want it to end so soon. you’ve already creamed around him what, twice now? you’re sensitive, oh so sensitive, squirming at every slight movement, mewling uncontrollably as he pinches your clit, threatening to cum again when he turns you around, gets you on your knees, slapping your ass.

how the fuck is he supposed to fuck anybody else now when you’re the most perfect girl he’s ever seen?

you arch your back, propped up on your palms as you look over your shoulder at him, his hips still moving, controlling himself as he makes absolutely sure to savour this moment tonight.

but, like always, you always find a way to surprise him, mischief behind those eyes as you smirk at him; you smirk at him like you know how much he loves this.

“eita.” the way you say his name is so dangerous—like he’s caught in your web with no way out. “cum inside me?”

and just like that, he obeys, unintentionally, his body toppling on top of you, the weakest, guttural moan coming out of him ever as he feels you cumming at the same time too, his fingers rubbing circles on your clit, riding you through it.

fuck, he thinks as he looks at you under him, both of you wet from the rain or sweating, he can’t even tell, but what he knows is that he’s so, so fucked after what happened tonight.

shit, he wants more of you.

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #otoya x reader #otoya eita x reader #bllk smut #otoya eita smut #eita x reader #blue lock smut #otoya x you #otoya x y/n #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #otoya eita #૪ aeri’s fics !

261 notes · View notes

domreader-headcannon-scenarios · 5 months

Text

This image does so much to me, like I love it, I love the thought of leaving him like this at the mercy of random devil in some bar or someshit to humiliate Gabriel…

Gabriel was pitiful, he wanted you to forgive him, upon the angels coming to the conclusion to turn to you instead of there missing God, they’d all come flocking to you for forgiveness to which you forced peace between them and demons to ensure they’d both be safe and more importantly.

You could finally go home.

The only angel you had a personal hatred against decided to show up in Hell. Unannounced, he dropped to his knees, pleading with you to forgive his wrong doings. You honestly were baffled he’d had the guts to show up to you after killing your best friend.

You wanted to make him suffer, but not wounded, you were going to let him go but given he’s dumb enough to come back, you needed to stop that.

And you didn’t need to be kind over it, after all, you’d never see him again.

With the help of Satan you got all you needed, you were going to humiliate and punish Gabriel. You got Satan to dress him up in the special ‘gear’ you chose for him.

Gabriel was standing awkwardly afterwards, he was surprised when you ‘checked’ to make sure he was dressed right. The ruby red panties you’d gotten him fit quite well, though they left little to the imagination (maybe that’s why the angel couldn’t meet your gaze afterwards.

The thin metal chains decorating him fit snugly, almost like a harness. The collar got tightly on him, you’re sure Satan did that on purpose. You show him the next accessory. A gag.

The angel’s wings flared at the sight of Chains, he backs up a few steps. Right as your getting frustrated at the thought of chasing him, Satan forces him on his knees by grabbing a fistful if his hair. “Why don’t you fuck him up before we whore him out?” Gabriel’s eyes widen and as he opens his mouth to speak, you shove the gag in.

You tied the gag firmly to keep him quiet. “Satan pick him up we are ready to go.” You grab the chains, carrying them as Satan threw the angel over his shoulder. Gabriel struggled and reached to remove the gag. Before you could correct him, Satan dropped him and took one of the chains, tying Gabriel’s hands and feet firmly behind his back before lifting him again. Gabriel still struggled, even trying to vocalize a complaint with the gag.

“If you keep struggling, angel cakes, I’ll leave you tied here.” Satan warned, to which the angel froze and obediently stopped. Gabriel looked to you with puppy eyes. Maybe it was the excitement, but apart of you wanted to give him a kiss.

You resist the urge and let Satan lead the way. You held the door open to the bar, watching Satan noticeably hesitate deciding if he wanted to hit the angel in the door way. Upon entering you noticed demons leering at the angel, a few whistles echo even with the music blaring.

Satan dropped Gabriel on a booth table you sat at the center, with Gabriel’s head basically in your lap as Satan and a few random devils helped tie the angel securely. The angel is left with his legs dangling over the edge of the table, a whimper escapes him, barely audible over the music, though it was clearly directed at you as he stares up at you. You pat his head. “Don’t worry, the demons will take great care of you, we are in Abaddon after all.”

You slip on his ‘horns’ while Satan places on his ‘wings’ as Gabriel struggles against the restraints, a muffled hiss escapes him as Satan gropes him, in a showey matter, he rubs Gabriel’s limp member, you nodded up to him. To the angels relive he stopped and stepped back. Satan took a deep breath, then bellowed.

“Hey! Citizens of Abaddon! This right here,” He gestured to the angel. “Is here for entertainment purposes only, until closing time, your free to use this angel as you please!” Satan shouted so loud your sure anyone outside the bar could hear him. Gabriel visibly stiffened when all eyes were on him, he whined, looking up to you once more for mercy, despite his punishment not even starting.

You watch one of the devils approach and he waste no time, grabbing the bottom part of Gabriel’s dress shirt, ripping off the half the shirt in one fluid motion. Gabriel let’s out a muffled yelp, legs protectively pressed together as he yanked on the restraints. The devil easily forced the angels legs apart, he held them like that as another devil approached and poked at the angels limp member.

“Do you think he’d like to flipped over to face Solomon’s descendant?” The smaller demon half joked. “The way he’s looking at them, I bet he wishes they were touching him!”

The devils laugh, the smaller on unzipped Gabriel’s pants, exposing the panties. There’s silence for a few seconds before more devils join in on the laughing.

Gabriel tenses as they poke and prod and his sensitive parts, until he’s left hard, cock half exposed, clothes teared leaving little protected, the least damaged item on him was the panties. One of the devils reached into their pocket, taking out a small handful of money and pulling back Gabriel’s panties enough to slip it in.

“Thank for the show, Cutie.” A clearly drunk devil stood over him, intentionally leaving the cash pressed against the angels most delicate parts as he felt up the angel. The demon looked up at you. “Is he yours?”

Without missing a beat you say. “Yes, and he’s been bad, use him as you like.” With that the poor angels swarmed, you watch in amusement as the devils felt him up, prodded him and clawed at his exposed parts, you catch once a devil had their feel, they leave embarrassingly low amounts of cash in his panties, and shirt.

Gabriel cries out, visibly trembling and when you look down, to your amusement a devil at licking his clothed cock as it’s forced to stiffen under the overwhelming attention.

#nsft #sub gabriel #gabriel x reader #dom reader #whb #sub whb #what in hell is bad #I wanted to do more but I’m scatterbrained #and tumblr deleted half of it :’)

296 notes · View notes

aylasology · 2 months

Text

Rocket Queen

A guitar solo and the finishing touches.

warnings : smut!! Fingering and oral. Using cocaine. Reader gets fucked in a recording studio 😭

notes : jeez this was long. This is a part of my rockstar!Robin x groupie!reader universe btw! Check her out here :) Here's my birthday treat from me to you 🫶

Heels tap on the hardwood floor as you watch her sing. Her hands shoved in the pockets of her flare jeans, blue eyes tinted red as her heart shaped glasses slip on the bridge of her nose. Robin Buckley is a rockstar in the flesh - and she is in her element.

Her tall frame stands by a microphone. Her voice has a rasp in it, a strong low voice that no one could compete with.

"I'm a sexual innuendo in this burned out paradise, if you turn me on to anything you better turn me on tonight."

Her eyes shoot to you. A shit-eating smirk on her face as she kept singing. You could remember how she wrote this song so vividly. On her bed, you sprawled naked underneath the sheets as she lay next to you with a pen and a notebook in hand. Tapping to a melody she hummed quietly. The notebook was on a blank page, scribbles and crossed out words on the other side.

Robin was convinced that this next album was going to be a hit. She was convinced that her vocals, and the band's distinct sound is gonna take them somewhere. She was strong in her belief and you couldn't help but believe it too.

You don't know what it was about her that made her so magnetic. It was something beyond looks, something beyond that voice that made you let her toy you around and use you. Maybe it was the thrill? The thrill of getting caught and getting outed? The thrill of finally getting touched by a woman? You couldn't lay a finger on it.

Their guitarist, Eddie Munson, started playing his riff, fingers fast in its movement as it moved against the fretboard. Stiff in her movement however, Robin's eyes squeezed shut, a serious look on her face as if she was deep in thought. You knew what this look meant, the look that said something was wrong. Something didn't align to whatever artistic sound she had in mind.

"Eddie wait."

Eddie stopped playing. A resounding, rather pissed off "what?" Slipping from his lips. Robin's eyes wandered in thought, eyes wandering to you. She looked you up and down, eyes wandering on the tiny skirt you've decided to wear. A thought comes to mind.

"Uh, just keep playing actually..."

After recording, a pair of hands snake from behind your waist, tugging onto the fabric of your shirt. Robin.

"Hey sweetheart..." She cooed, peppering kisses on the skin of your neck. "I can just eat you up.." she murmured in between the kisses. Robin always seemed so drunk in love when it came to you. You were never sure if it was love, but you were sure of one thing : you aroused her.

"Robin..." you chuckled as she had turned you to face her, pulling you in the recording booth. Everyone had dispersed out of the studio by now, the room suddenly so chilly and quiet.

"Shh, sweetheart..." She cooed. "Need something from you really quickly..." She murmured, pressing your back against a beat up leather couch, pushing a microphone next to you. "Gonna need a quick little fix 'fore I ask for a favor m'kay?"

A little nod was all it took for her to lay you down completely, pulling out a small plastic bag with white powder in it - cocaine. She lifts your shirt up, a small but demanding "bite" grunts out of her lips. Quick to obey, you bit the fabric of the shirt to keep it up.

She adjusts herself, straddling your hips as she sat on you, eyes hungry as she took in the sight of your body. The curve of your hips, the swell of your breasts, your already erect nipples. Of course you didn't wear a bra.

She rips the plastic to form a little hole, cocaine on your belly and all the way up the middle of your breasts. You could hear her groan, the sight of you enough for her to completely ravish you.

"So pretty this way...just a pretty little thing for me to use..."

She bends down, pressing a kiss on your skin before sniffing down the powder. A hand on the curve of your hips, words slipping out of her mouth every time she'd sit up to just look at you.

"Such a perfect little slut....you gonna let me abuse you, honey?"

"Such a good girl for me...god, you're perfect."

And as a small trail is left in between the perfect globes of your breasts, her tongue prods out of her mouth, licking the skin and the cocaine off of it. Her eyes stare up at you, needy eyes that could tell everything she wanted to do to you.

"Robin..." You could only whimper, mouth waiting and cunt soaked in anticipation. The heat inside your skirt boiling.

She leans closer to your face. "I know, princess, I know..." She cooed, before pressing her tongue onto yours. The taste of cocaine landed on your tongue, a hand kneading one of your breasts and the other cupped onto your face.

Her kisses seemed eager, and they felt as though they were waiting for a reaction. And when she gains that soft moan from you, she pulls away, a string of saliva connecting each other's tongue.

"Gonna need more from you, sweetheart..." She groaned. She pulls away from your body, ordering you to sit up. She pulls your skirt down, a smirk on her lips as she feels your panties soaked.

"All this for me?" She teased, fingers tracing circles on the wet patch, your legs shaking in anticipation.

"Robin..." You cried, an awkward blush on your plump cheeks.

"Oh so you're blushing now too? Fuck sweetheart, you're just so cute..."

"Robin!" You groaned, absolutely having enough of the teasing. A chuckle erupts from her lips as she pulled the panties off. Her hands gripped onto your ankles, holding your legs up as her finger pushes in deep, slow strokes. A moan slipping from your lips.

"There she is..." She hummed, a chuckle slips from her lips as she watched your face contort in pleasure. She adds another finger, her pace moving quicker as she spreads your legs wider. "Gonna need you real loud for me sweetheart..."

Without waiting for a response, she pushes your legs further, you moan softly in pain, but she's fucking you too good for you to want it to stop. "Feel good sweetheart?"

"Fuck..." You cry out. "Yes..fuck...yes..." You moaned as you lay your head against the arm rest of the couch. A plethora of moans and cries falling from your lips as she spread your folds open.

And as a familiar, twisting knot forms in your stomach, her fingers pull away. A soft, but reassuring "We're not done yet..." hums from her lips.

She adjusted herself, keeping your legs spread open as she kissed your thighs and stomach. And before you could complain on how much of a tease she was, she dipped lower. Licking your sensitive clit before moving inside your folds immediately.

You moaned against the sensation. Robin's tongue was warm and eager and sloppy and it was perfect against you. It found and abused nerve endings, unbridled pleasure taking over your being.

Your fingers grasp onto her hair, hips bucking against her mouth as your slick and her spit seemed to drip on her chin and onto the couch. Your moans came out in hurried grunts. Your thighs squeeze her face, as suffocating as it was she didn't care - she felt as though she could happily die like this, head in between your thighs and a mouth lapping up pussy. Your pussy. Your moans continued to sound desperate, a slight crack in them and a rasp that only Robin could recognize. Robin was the only person who touched you like this.

The knot in your stomach comes undone, sticky fluids of your release all over her lips and cheek. She pulled away, letting you watch her swallow it all down. She leans close to your face, kissing your cheek. "You did so good, sweetheart..."

Before you could say anything, your body is instantly hit with exhaustion. Pretty eyes of yours fluttering shut as you lay there with a pillow on your head and another on your hand. A chuckle slips from Robin's lips.

"I'll let you rest, m'kay? I'll be here when you wake up."

And she was there in the studio once you woke up, tampering with the audio of their recording session from earlier. You could hear her play it, legs wobbly as you stood up and walked over to her.

You could hear the guitar solo in full blast, though another sound seemed to be playing alongside it. The sound of what could be considered as lips smacking together in a kiss, which then lead to needy and desperate moans. The moans held a crack in them, a rasp that bubbled from the throat. Desperate and loud, and...wait...

"Robin, was that...?"

"Yes sweetheart, that was you." She replied with a cocky smile, lifting your hand up to her lips. "You always told me how much you wanted to be a muse..." She muttered before kissing the skin.

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley stranger things #robin buckley x fem!reader #robin buckley fanfiction #robin buckley x reader fanfiction #stranger things #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley smut #aylasology #Spotify

140 notes · View notes

kagejima · 7 months

Text

this isn't meant for me to sound self-deprecating i swear to god, but sometimes my anxiety is like "everyone doesn't like you anymore" and then i remember it's early in the morning or super super late in the US when I'm online and most of you just aren't awake 💀💀💀💀

#🎤: rae is in the vocal booth #honestly I'm going to be vulnerable here which is probably A HUGE MISTAKE #but sometimes i feel physically ill when i come on here just because holy shit have some people ruined what was once a safe space for many

18 notes · View notes

haileybeehappy · 11 months

Text

Making Music

Word count : 3k

Warnings : Oral sex (fem receiving) Calling Harry sir, dom harry, I don't know much about music production tbh, p in v sex, spanking, unprotected sex, wrap your willy silly!

Summary: Harry recording back tracks and extra vocals and he pulls you in with him and fucks you in the recording booth. Using your moans in the songs

Harry said he had a quick session today and he wanted you to join. Just finishing up some back tracks on his next album and paperwork stuff. It wasn’t uncommon that you came to the studio with him, you would work on your writing as he worked on his music. Your fingers gliding back and forth on your keyboard as he is in the booth, his voice soothing you down to your bones.

It’s just you and him in the small office like room, your feet swung up onto the edge of the sound board and he is in the booth. Headphones perched on his head one ear exposed so he can hear himself and you. “Okay love just click the button on the computer,” you push your body back and press the button that commences the recording. The track plays through his ears as you watch him through the plexiglass window. Grasping at the extra headphones plugged into the end of the soundboard and slide them over your head. Securing them onto your ears. His voice riding and falling to match the chords and lyrics. Adding depth and layers to the beautiful song. You glance back up at him and his eyes are on you already. You smile at him and he smiles back. His dimples poking out, a light blush filling his cheeks. As he finishes out the song, holding your eyes in his gaze the whole time he nods to signal to push the button again.

“Again?” You ask through the intercom. He nods in confirmation as you quickly reset the recording as he has showed you many times before and press the button to start again. His eyes close as he hits notes that are at the peak of his vocal range. The veins and tendons in his neck bulging slightly. You look at him with a smile on your face. His curls moving and shifting as he shakes his head. As the song came to a crescendo you could basically see his veins vibrating at his pulse point. The sight causing a heat to ignite between your legs. You’ve always loved his neck. His shoulders. His collar bones. His arms. Everything about him really. But you that soft spot in his neck really gets you going in a different way.

Maybe it’s because the whimpers and groans that escape his neck as you kiss at the small birthmarks. Or that when he’s sheathed inside of you, your mouth bites and sucks at the skin till it’s red and bruised. Maybe it’s because you find your hands settling there often when his mouth is on yours, rubbing at his soft skin and scraping through his scruff.

The song falls to an end and your eyes are still intently trained on him. The slick between your thigh pooling. Getting yourself riled up at just the thought of him was not a new experience. You’re not very good at hiding the symptoms either. Your legs are crossed tightly, blush spread across your cheeks and eyes blown with lust. Harry steps out of the booth, leaving the headphones hung around his neck as he quickly finds the seat next to you. Pulling up to the computer, only glancing in your direction before flipping the headphones back atop his head and listing back to the track. His head bobbing to the tempo, bought lip pulled between his teeth. You roll your chair close to his and rest your head on his shoulder. The music pumping through your own headphones as you close your eyes and listen to his voice. Feeling his body against yours, you grasp your arms around his waist and breathe in his scent. His hands wrap into yours and his thumb rubs back and forth against your skin. Causing goosebumps to travel up your arms. The contact against him making the pulse between your legs uncomfortable. You start to wiggle in your chair. Adjusting your position. Shuffling your legs back and forth before Harry looks back at you.

“You okay lovey?” He asks. His voice distant because of the headphones. You stop yours off your head and drop them to the sound board. He pops his ear out.

“Yeah just uncomfortable I guess,” you shrug. Pulling your legs up onto the chair and wiggling some more.

“Can I fix it?” A laugh echos through your head.

‘You’re the one one who can fix it,’ you think to yourself but just shrug in response.

“I don’t think so, just been sitting to long I guess,”

“You guess?” A small smile on his lips. “Tell me what’s going on,” he reaches out to you and pulls you chair to him. Slotting you and the chair between his thighs. You roll your eyes and drop your head back.

“It’s stupid,” you whisper

“It’s not stupid if it makes you uncomfortable love,” his fingers rubbing at the exposed skin of your ankle. The smirk on his lips replaced with concern. “Just tell me please,” you sigh.

“Harry really, you’re just gonna laugh,” he shakes his head at the accusation.

“I promise,”

“I’m horny,” you whine as you tuck your face into your knees. Your voice muffled by the fabric of your leggings and your body.

“What lovey?” He asks again. His voice dropping to meet yours.

“IM HORNY!” You all but yell. Lifting your head so he can look you in the eyes. His eyes widen and his mouth opens in surprise and then slowly a smile makes its way to his lips and his eyes crinkle. You narrow your eyes at him and pull your lips into a snarl. “You promised,” you whine as a small chuckle leaves his mouth.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I really am,” his hands grab your legs and pull them onto his lap. Running his fingers up to your thighs. Grasping your legs hard. Fingers massaging into your thighs. “You’re so cute baby,” you hide your face behind your hands.

“Leave me alone,” you groan. He runs his hands to your hips.

“I can’t leave you alone baby, gotta fix your problem huh?” You shake your head.

“Just go back to work,”

“Can’t go back to work knowing my girl needs me,” he pulls your hands from your face. Grasping your chin in his fingers. “Can I help you please?” You just answer him with a nod. “Words love,” he demands. His lips a breath from yours.

“Please Harry,” before you can finish saying his name his lips are on yours. Swallowing your breath with his. Your hands grasping at the sides of his head. Your thumb rolling over his pulse point. You pull back and move to place kisses on his neck. As you get to your coveted spot he pulls you onto his lap. A yelp leaves your mouth, his hands find your ass and starts kneeding it as you place kissed across his throat. Placing kisses on every inch of exposed skin. The groan he releases as you begin to move your hips over his causes your eyes to roll back behind your closed lids.

“Hold onto me love,” you wrap your hands around his neck and he stands. Your legs cling to his waist. “Good girl,” he whispers in your ears. Causing pins and needles to shoot down your spine. Before you could ask what he’s doing his lips find yours and he pushes the both of you into the booth. Your back hits the wall and he pulls you down so his bulge rubs against your center. Slowly moving your hips against his, pushing and pulling you against the wall. Moans squeak their way past your lips and he continues to devour you. He slowly lowers your feet to the ground. Placing one last hard kiss on your lips. “Hold on a minute baby,” he turns and leaves the booth. Clicking a few things on the computer and making his way back to you.

“What did you just do Harry?” You ask accusingly.

“You know what I just did,” he smirks. He then drops to his knees in front of you. Pushes your body back so your back meets the foam carpeted wall of the sound booth and then hooks his hands into the waistband of your leggings and slowly pulls them down to your ankles. You look down at him as he pulls the fabric completely off your legs. Your shoes already discarded under your chair by the soundboard. “Gonna make you feel so good baby,” he begins kissing at the inside of your knee. Slowly making his way to the soft spot of your inner thigh. Pausing to suck at the sensitive skin. Causing dark red welts to trail behind. You’re doing everything you can to not close his head between your thighs. The tickling sensation soon replaced by pleasure as your knee finds residency on his shoulder and he placed a light kiss on your clit before licking a long stripe through your folds. Causing your head to drop back into the wall and you raise yourself onto your tiptoes to get closer to him. Moans are wracking through your body as he continues to lick through your folds. His nose occasionally bumping your clit, your hips twitching at the teasing sensation.

“Harry please,” you sigh out. His mouth leaves your core and he looks up to you.

“Tell me what you need baby,” you let out a groan. He loves hearing the foul words leave your mouth. He always makes you beg. Tell him exactly what you need even if it makes you blush like no other.

“Your mouth,” you moan out as he begins to leave a hickey on the most sensitive soft part of you thigh.

“I’ve been using my mouth honey,” he smirks against your skin.

“You didn’t let me finish,” you laugh out. “Your mouth, on my clit Harry please,” the words rush out of your mouth. He dives down and lays his tongue flat against your folds and slowly trails up to your clit. Very very slowly wrapping his lips against it and sucking lightly. Your hips jerk to his face and you all but scream his name. “Oh fuck Harry please,” you whine finally reaching down to pull at his hair. “Harder please Harry,” he moans at the stinging sensation. The vibrations against your clit almost sending you over. He quickly pulls back.

“What else love,” he breathes heavily.

“Your fingers please Harry,” he adjusts himself slight so he can guide his hand between your legs without letting your leg fall of his shoulders. His fingers dive into your hot center and he reattaches himself to your clit. “Fuck yes right there,” you whine as he instantly finds the spongy spot inside you. And his fingers move over the spot gently while he continues to suck at your clit. As you find yourself reaching your peak your hips jerk against your face. “Yes Harry right there oh my god Harry yes please,” you moan out as you teeter on the edge. His other hand gives you two pats on your ass. Signaling you to come. You let the orgasm wash over you, your body goes limp and he holds you up with one hand on your waist and raising his elbow. He continues to suck on your clit, slowly releasing the pressure as you come down from your high. His fingers slipping out out you and going to wrap around the other side of your waist and lowering you to the ground.

“Oh fuck such a good girl baby, came so hard for me,” he groans as you settle yourself onto his kneeled legs. His fingers coming to your mouth. You pull his slick soaked fingers into your mouth through ragged breaths and clean yourself off of him. Swirling your tongue around the two digits in your mouth. “Good girl,” he whispers as you close your eyes. You sit there and breath each others breaths. Till your heart rate comes down and your head stops spinning.

“Gonna fuck me now?” You ask as you bring your eyes to meet him. A mischievous look in his eye as the words leave your mouth.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he joke. The two of you untangle your limbs and stand up. He moves to pull up your shirt, pulling it off your frame. Your hands go to unclasp your bra but his hands come over yours and quickly flick off the bra with one hand. A move he took months to master. Laying in bed clasping and unclasping your bra while he held you.

“Your turn,” you say as your hands go to undo his belt. He makes quick work of stripping off his top and then quickly pushing the pants down once your fingers are don’t figuring with his button. Before you can get a good look at him he spins you around and pushes your front against the small podium/music stand. Your breast squished against the cold wood, his hands slowly drifting from your shoulders to your hips. He kneads your ass with one hand while he uses the other to line himself with your entrance. As his tip begins to rub against your folds it occasionally bumps against your clit. You push yourself back into him hoping to sheath him inside you. He replies with a sharp slap on your round bottom.

“So needy,” he growls as he completely bottoms out in one move. Leaving himself pushed against your cervix as you adjust to his size. It’s like he was made for you. Filling you just enough to make you sore the next day but not painful. The moan you let out as his finger snakes around and begins to play with your clit is almost pornographic. He slowly begins to move as the sounds you release become louder. “Fuck you always take my dick so good love,” his voice releases into your ear.

“I’was made for me,” you say. His frame raising off your back and hand slipping from your clit. You whine at the loss but it quickly turns to a moan as he begins pumping into you with malice. His hands grabbing and pulling at your ass cheeks. The tip of his cock pushing against your cervix over and over. Your hands grasp the edge of the podium till your knuckles turn white. “Fuck Harry yes,” you repeat his name over and over as if you’re chanting a song. The small grunts and whimpers he’s making drowned out by the sound of his skin hitting yours. His hand leaves your ass and he buries his fingers in your hair. He entwines your hair between his ring clad fingers and pulls ever so slightly. You whimper out, “Harder.”

“My baby likes it rough huh?” You nod your head pulling your own hair. A moan following. “Likes to be fucked dumb huh?” He hasn’t slowed. His thrusts becoming sturdier. You can only moan in response. He then slowly comes to a stop. Leaning down so his tattooed chest is pressed against your hot back. “Fuck your self on my cock baby,”

“Yes sir,” you submit as you begin to slowly push yourself and pull yourself off his cock. Once you catch a rhythm you speed up your pace. His heavy breaths turn into small moans not leaving his throat to little gasps leaving his lips. Until he’s fully moaning out. You let go of the podium with one hand and slip your fingers over your clit.

“Oh fuck baby,” Harry whimpers. “Such a good girl, playing with your clit while you fuck yourself on me. So good for me,” his words pulling the orgasm from deep inside you. “So good at fucking yourself on my cock baby,” his hands finding themselves back on your hips and starts to pull you back on his dick even harder. Your orgasm breaching as you flutter around him. “Come for me baby, come all over my cock,” he demands as he begins pounding back into you. His name falls from your lips in broken syllables as your body wracks in pleasure. Your walls tighten around him in spasms. The pressure on his dick bringing him over the edge and his thrusts slow and become uneven and sloppy. He comes inside you, watching the white liquid push out of you as he continues to fuck you through your orgasms. He doesn’t stop until it physically hurts him to keep going. He pulls you up slowly and slips out of you. You turn to look at him and he places a hard kiss you your lips. You spin your body around and grab at his face.

“Thank you Harry,” your voice hoarse with sex.

“Of course love,” his hands lay to rest on your hips. Squeezing at you as he calls you love.

“Can we go home now?” You smile. He returns the gesture and nods.

“Yea let’s clean up and I’ll close out,” leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “But I wanna listen to that before we leave,” you points to the mic. You laugh and slap him in the chest.

“That can wait till we get home. We both know if you listen to that we’ll be here all night,” he shrugs knowingly.

“Fine I guess,”

- - -

A few months later his new album comes out. As you sit in his lap head resting on his chest as the music pumps through the large sound system in your shared living room. The second song of the album starts.

“Can we go home now?” Your voice vibrates through the speakers. Your head shoots up to look at him in the eyes. A familiar track begins to play. One you were there while he recorded.

“Harry!” You laugh

“Just wait there’s more,” he smiles. Raising his brows.

“Harry no!”

“You said I could!” He defends himself.

“I didn’t think you would,” you laugh even harder. Because of course he would. Why wouldn’t you think he would?!

“That’s on you,” he pulls you to him by the fabric of your shirt (his shirt if we’re being honest) as he places a kiss on your lips.

“I guess,” you sigh as you seperate. Then your own moans are back tracked on the song. Not quite loud enough and to really be heard. And the pitch is changed but you definitely recognize it. Your eyebrow raise and a wide smile stretches across his face.

“Harry!" is all you can say which grants a large belly laugh from him.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles dom #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fanfic

628 notes · View notes

steddieas-shegoes · 6 months

Text

stumbling into you

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'meet-cute at work' rated: M wc: 999 cw: sexual innuendo, semi-public handsy making out tags: making out, getting together, rock star Eddie Munson, modern au

a/n: let me just say getting this under 1000 words took longer than it took to write the original 1484 words it was 🙁

🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢

Steve's first day was going better than expected.

He'd admittedly lied about his skills to get this job, but how hard could it be to run errands?

A metal band in need of throat lozenges and hot tea was in the studio now.

Easy enough task to do.

When he walked into the control room, it seemed empty.

He looked back and checked the room number on the door.

"Let me help."

Steve turned to see the hottest guy he'd ever seen standing by the mixing board starting to walk over to him.

"Oh. Okay," Steve stuttered out.

"Let me grab the teas," the man said, his hand brushing against Steve's.

"I can just-" Steve let him, flushing when he smiled at him. "I could have set them on the table."

"It's okay, you've got your hands full..." he looked at the badge hanging off his lanyard. "Steve?"

"Yeah, sorry. First day."

"Really?" The man took the pack of throat lozenges from him, opening the bag and popping one in his mouth. "Welcome then. I'm sure we'll see a lot of each other over the next month or so."

"Do you record here a lot?"

"Yeah. We've got this studio booked solid for the next three weeks. Album needs to be perfect and we always get the best quality here."

"So do you sing?"

"I sing. Lead guitar, too."

"Is it a band I know?"

The man looked him over, taking in his business casual appearance, glasses slipping down his nose.

"I don't think we play anything you've listened to. Corroded Coffin?"

"My little brother listens to you! His mom never let him go to a concert though, said it would be too rough on him. He's kinda small for his age and she worries." Steve bit his lip. "Sorry, rambling."

"Cute, Stevie."

Steve blushed.

"I'm Eddie."

"Steve."

"Yeah, Stevie, I got that. You like any metal?" Eddie was clearly trying to have a real conversation with him, but Steve was drawing a blank on what the English language was.

"Never listened to any."

"You wanna listen? Something's off, but I can't put my finger on what. Maybe you could give me an idea."

"M-me?" Steve's eyes went wide.

"Yes, you," Eddie nudged him and tipped his head towards the mixing board. "C'mon, honest opinion."

"I-"

"Pleeeease?" Eddie pouted.

"Okay, but I don't really know what good is supposed to sound like," Steve agreed, walking to the board.

"Good is relative. If you think it sounds like metal music should, that's at least on the right track," Eddie pushed a couple of buttons and flipped a switch.

A surprisingly soft guitar melody filled the room, followed by a husky voice singing.

"This sounds..."

"Sounds?"

"You sound sad."

"Well, that's kind of what I was going for, so I guess that's a good thing."

The music cut off and Steve immediately wished he could hear more.

"Do you have other stuff recorded?" Steve suddenly needed to hear more of Eddie's voice.

"You wanna hear more?"

"If you want?"

Eddie flipped another switch, pressed a button, and a much faster guitar started playing, followed by heavy drums.

"This one doesn't have vocals."

Steve wouldn't listen to this regularly, but he could admit when people were talented, and it was very clear that Eddie and his band were talented.

"You're really good," Steve smiled at him.

"Thanks, sweetheart."

Eddie shut off the music and stood up.

He leaned closer to Steve, playful smirk on his face.

"You wanna go in the booth?"

"I'm not allowed."

"I'm allowed and I'm asking, so." Eddie wiggled his eyebrows, making Steve giggle.

"Okay, sure."

Once in the small booth, Steve felt overwhelmed with Eddie's presence.

His body heat was enough to make Steve sweat.

"You do all the lead vocals?" Steve asked.

"Yeah. Since day one," Eddie said from right behind him, so close his breath hit the back of Steve's neck.

Steve shivered, closing his eyes as he felt Eddie's hand rest on his lower back.

"Tell me to stop if you want me to," Eddie whispered against his shoulder.

"I don't," Steve gasped.

Eddie turned him, pushing him against the wall behind him.

"Can I kiss you?" Eddie breathed against his lips.

Steve nodded, a whimper escaping his mouth as Eddie's lips touched his.

Eddie was a soft chorus, a soft kiss.

A soft moan when Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie's neck.

Eddie's fingers gripped Steve's hips, tugging him forward so their hips met, both already half hard.

"Wait," Steve said when Eddie started kissing down his neck. "When will they be back?"

"Don't know." Eddie nipped at one of Steve's freckles. "Don't care."

Steve moaned again when Eddie's hand found the front of his pants.

"What if-"

"Don't know. Don't care."

Steve threw his head back as Eddie's hand cupped him over his pants.

"Fuck, feels good."

"How fast can you come?" Eddie's hand squeezed, almost making Steve's legs buckle.

"I-"

"Eddie! Thought you were joining us!" A voice yelled.

"Be there in a few! Just wanted to check something!" Eddie yelled back.

"You're a workaholic!"

Eddie checked through the crack in the door to make sure the person left before he turned back to Steve with a sad smile.

"I probably should join them." Eddie cupped the side of Steve's face in his hand. "Maybe after your shift we can meet up?"

"Really?"

"Really, sweetheart."

"Oh. Um, I guess. I mean, it's probably against the rules, but I can give you my number?"

"I won't let them fire you. I made the move, right?" Eddie dipped his thumb into Steve's mouth for just a second, teasing.

Eddie may have made the first move, but Steve was quick to make the next one that night, not giving Eddie a second to say hi before he was in his lap in the backseat of a hired car.

Steve's job had a lot of perks, but gaining a boyfriend was definitely the best one.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #meet cute

300 notes · View notes

dungeonpuppykai · 2 months

Note

for a fic idea: chris evans x reader going on a date to a carnival and then having a picnic

Thank you so much for the ask/request! This is literally the first Chris as Chris piece I've ever written omg! I prefer to write requests in hc form so I hope you don't mind…? Hope you enjoy <3

Disclaimer: For whatever it's worth, this is a fictional version of Chris hence fanFICTION because I don't know him in real life and I don't want to either so no silly talk from anyone, please <3

Warning(s): Fluff, kissing, rides, minor consensual groping, tickling, picnic.

Note: Reader is definitely gender-neutral. Requests are open.

Chris definitely spoils.

He's one of those boyfriends who tower over pretty much everyone else in the crowd and have to constantly move his broad shoulders around to avoid touching anyone else.

Holds your hand very tight in his bigger one.

Because he knows how upset you get if someone pushes you both apart as it has happened in the past, resulting in you almost getting lost and crying.

Has to wear a cap to avoid being recognized so you prefer to hang near the areas where there's masquerades and the like so you can enjoy some privacy as well as freedom.

Buys you basically everything you look at.

He's definitely the kind of person who is always so excited about the rides that he drags his partner with him while promising them that he will be there with them and they can hold his hand.

Isn't a lie, man protects you like it's his job.

But has more embarrassing photos of you on said rides than you'd like to admit.

So much carnival food and mini games.

Coming back home from such places with a huge stuffie is mandatory.

"Chris!" You squeal as you struggle to jog beside him, your breath hot in your masquerade mask and a hand on your bulging tummy. All you had said was that the caramel popcorn smelt nice. And then you had had to deal with a whole tub of it after he had already bought you so many things to eat before. "Hang on, oh my God!"

It is cute how his 'mature' age has not harmed his vivacity because it makes him so fun to be around. He is very easy going and just plain comfortable. You don't have to worry about pretending in front of him and he doesn't do it either.

His good nature and open display of his affection for you is always heartwarming and honestly… downright attractive.

A confident man who plays no games with nothing but love and adoration to offer.

"Come on, baby! The photo booth is finally empty!" Chris is excited like a child as he basically shoves the coins in the slot. He has had an eye on the previously packed booth for a while now.

It was little things like this that mattered to him a lot.

From your favorites to little souvenirs, cute clips and pictures of you to how you liked your drinks, all your little rituals and what each of your facial expressions meant to everything else, he had them all memorized through quiet observation.

Being the extrovert that he is, your boyfriend is otherwise very vocal about his affection for you but that does not mean that he makes a show of these things.

They're just little things that he likes to do for you; his precious baby.

You yelp and then giggle when he plops his butt down on the seat inside the booth with a loud smack before pulling you in with him– more like, on him.

"Chris!" The squeal has no effect on him and he goes on his goofy ways as you both pose with your masks on for some pictures.

Then something suddenly shifts in your boyfriend, as it often does when you're in his general vicinity, and he pushes his mask up before doing the same to yours after turning your face towards his.

His lips are on yours before you know it and his hands bolt from your waist and knee right to your ass, the tight squeeze making you draw in a sharp breath against his mouth.

The clicks of the camera keep on going as you circle his neck with your arms, pulling him closer and letting his tongue dominate your mouth as you whimper from his natural dominance that comes out in moments like these.

He doesn't have hardcore tastes for intimate activities but he is always willing to try for you.

"Taste so good as always, baby" Chris is breathless when he finally pulls back and rests his forehead against yours, the reel reaching its limit at the same time; almost as if it's aware of how private the moment is.

It's the little quirks. How he wraps his arm around your waist when you become too self aware in public sometimes, or how he tightens his hold on your hand when there's a crowd, the way he's always looking over you and covering the edges and corners of the furniture around you with his hand to make sure it doesn't nick you and how he goes the extra mile to make sure you're reassured and comfortable.

You love this man with your whole heart.

"Or maybe it's all that caramel popcorn" you tease and he widens his bright blue eyes, thick lashes decorating the area below his eyebrows in the prettiest way.

"Caramel popcorn?!" You start giggling at the comical way he says it. "Did someone say caramel popcorn?!" You know what's coming and so your Snickers increase in volume and you protestingly bounce on his lap, vehemently shaking your head and trying to get away but Chris is a strong man. "THE TICKLE MONSTER ALSO WANTS SOME CARAMEL POPCORN!" You throw your head back and your body twists when his fingers dig into your sides, the blush that his kisses had caused on your face now darkening due to how you were screeching against him, your tummy in pain from all the laughing.

It's only when there's tears in your eyes and the annoyed people waiting outside call out for you two that you sheepishly step out with your masks down.

This particular carnival has cute little tent-like pavilions facing a huge screen in one of the prettiest gardens that you have ever seen. You don't have to do more than tug at Chris' sleeve and he follows your gaze before buying you two a spot.

He insists that you don't pay for anything and to let him spoil you because all he wants is the unconditional love and genuine companionship that you provide him.

And honestly, who are you to reject all that Marvel money?

Just kids and jokes, of course. You try to chip in when you can but damn, it's hard to do that when your boyfriend is literally Chris Evans.

The rest of the evening goes by with the both of you sipping some soda and feeding each other light snacks as some romcom plays on the screen, your form perched between his limbs with you back to his chest, Chris' chin propped on the top of your head and his thick arms cocooned around your body.

Really hope you liked it <3

#chris evans #chris evans imagines #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans x smut #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x ofc #chris evans characters #chris evans fluff #chris evans fic #chris evans fandom #chris evans edit

113 notes · View notes

satansapostle6 · 5 months

Text

Kids | Rodrick Heffley

Spotify Playlist Link

Rodrick Heffley becomes obsessed when he finally meets his thirty-five year old band mate, Bill Walter’s, younger sister.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Drug use. Violence. Almost smut. Choking. Semi-public. Knee riding.

“The Angel From My Nightmare”

“10 Things I Hate About You”

“Alright, go have fun. Come get me if you need something,” Sara told her younger brother.

“Do you have to stay?” Connor complained as she and Lauren sat at a table.

“Sorry, kiddo. We gotta have fun too,” she teased. “Go. Have fun. We’ll be all the way over here, you won’t even know we’re here.”

That turned out to be completely wrong.

“It’s super crowded in here… Even Heather Hills and her friends are here tonight,” Lauren observed.

“Ew. She puts the ‘bully’ in bulimic,” Sara muttered.

“Yeah, even I’m not that far in denial,” Lauren agreed, turning as everyone noticed a loud feedback coming off of the DJ’s microphone.

The music stopped, and no one knew what was happening.

“Alright, enough of that,” Rodrick Heffley’s voice blasted over the speakers, replacing the music that had been playing.

Everyone at the roller rink stopped to see that he and the rest of the band had set up near the DJ booth, completely hijacking the music.

“Oh my God,” Lauren whispered, looking to Sara. “Did you know about this?”

“No,” Sara hissed, looking at Rodrick in horror.

“We are Löded Diper, and we’re here to blow your minds,” Bill joined in.

“Oh my fucking God,” Sara murmured, trying her best to blend into the crowd as she scooted as far down the bench as possible.

But she quickly found that anonymity definitely wouldn’t be in the cards for her tonight.

“I’m Rodrick. Rodrick Heffley,” a shaky voice breathed into the mic.

“Hurry up!” someone’s dad yelled, more irritated about not hearing music than the whole music hijacking situation.

“Alright, uh… I’m here to sing one song. It’s a very special song, that goes out to a very special girl. Sara? Sara Walter?” Rodrick desperately searched the crowd for her.

He eventually found her, staring right at her as everyone in the roomed stared, including Heather Hills and the other ‘popular’ girls. Sara’s eyes widened with rage as her little brother and his friends all stared in her direction.

“Sara,” Rodrick stared, his eyes full of fear. “I… I’m sorry. You’re the prettiest, smartest girl in the world.”

Sara’s face went pale as she slowly turned to Lauren with all eyes on her.

“What the fuck?” she mouthed silently.

It seemed no one had anything to offer.

“Sara, I know you’re probably mad at me, and you probably should be. You’re beautiful, and you’re kind, and I don’t deserve you,” he blurted out as everyone watched.

Heather and her friends were now whispering and pointing in disgust.

“Listen, Sara, I get it if you never wanna talk to me again… But I really, really like you,” Rodrick announced in front of the entire building.

“Get on with it already!” another impatient onlooker shouted.

“Right, yeah, here goes,” he continued, rambling as he signaled to the band to start playing. “This song is for you, Sara Walter.”

Bill waved to her excitedly, completely unable to read the room as he tried to make the situation less intense. She watched, completely frozen as the band started playing. It was a bit rocky in the first few seconds, but then, she immediately recognized the song after the first few chords.

Struck by the effort that went into coordinating the entire thing, Sara could hardly control her racing thoughts. She didn’t know whether to be angry at Rodrick for the spectacle, or charmed by the gesture, or creeped out by the entire thing.

“And I’d give up forever to touch you…” the sixteen year old boy sang shakily in front of the crowd, his vocals questionable at best.

“'Cause I know that you feel me somehow

You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be

And I don't want to go home right now,”

Some people in the room, namely Heather’s group, laughed and whispered as Rodrick took the stage. Eventually, the teasing throughout the room got to be brutal, but he still persisted, trying his best not to break.

“God, he’s an idiot, but I still feel kinda bad,” Sara murmured.

“Sara. I’m gonna be completely honest with you,” Lauren raised an eyebrow. “You need to go kiss that boy right now.”

“Seriously? I’m just gonna run back into his arms because he made a fool of himself for me?” she reasoned. “That’s his whole brand!”

“Sara,” Lauren reminded her, her approach stern but caring. “Would Jake Anderson ever have performed your favorite slow song for you in a room full of people, even if his singing was pretty dog shit?”

Sara sat in silence for a moment as everyone still looked over at her, trying to gauge her reaction.

“What about Tyler Hayden? Or Lenwood Heath?”

“Okay, I get your point,” Sara said softly.

“I haven’t seen anybody give this much of a fuck for you since you were with Nadine,” Lauren admitted. “And you know how much I liked you guys.”

“Yeah,” Sara thought, considering her options.

“I think he really means what he says. Even if he’s fucking stupid,” Lauren told her.

Sara just sighed, looking up at Rodrick on the platform as he sang for her, never taking his eyes off her even once. It was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am,”

He sang like his life depended on it, which it kind of did. As much as Sara hated to admit it, she saw a look of genuine regret in his eyes that day. All she could think about was how much she really did like Rodrick, all the way until the end of the song.

It ended and a complete silence washed over the room, as just about everyone just stood around waiting for a resolution. Even security had been waiting until the spectacle was over to intervene. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, but it was the first time that yielded any interesting results.

Of course, Heather and her friends wouldn’t stop whispering, but Rodrick refused to pay them any mind. He cleared his throat as the song ended, staring out at Sara with a sad, dopey look in his eyes as he prayed she’d forgive him.

“Fuck it,” Sara muttered to herself, walking out onto the rink.

She marched up to the platform looking both angry and confused. Rodrick didn’t know what to expect, and slowly stepped down in shock. He stood right in front of her, walking up to her as he waited for her to react to him in some way.

“I’m sorry,” he started to apologize, “I didn’t know how to make it up to you—”

“I don’t care,” she said finally, a resolve in her eyes.

“What does that mean?” Rodrick asked, ignoring the girls who were pointing and making fun.

“That means, fuck it, Rodrick Heffley, I’m really starting to like you too.”

Rodrick’s grunt of surprise was muffled into a spontaneous kiss as Sara jumped into his arms, which was met with a mostly positive reaction from their audience. He was hesitant at first, slowly warming up to her again as he scooped her up in his arms, kissing her lips like he’d never get the chance to again.

After a moment, they remembered where they were, and Rodrick awkwardly set her down on the ground with reluctance. He looked up and down nervously, not sure what to say now.

“Can we go?” Sara asked, uncomfortable as she looked around.

“Yes,” he nodded automatically, willing to comply to her every whim, “Yes. We can.”

After being kicked out of the roller rink, again, Rodrick and the rest of the band walked out to the parking lot, reviewing their performance that night.

“You know, I know we’re metal and all, but that was fucking beautiful,” Ben seemed to be teary-eyes.

Rodrick and Sara stepped outside for a moment, as she leaned against the wall in silence, trying to think. Knowing what might comfort her, Rodrick pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, opening it as he offered it to her. Nodding appreciatively at the gesture, Sara took one and held it in her mouth as he lit it for her.

“I’m sorry,” Rodrick blurted out finally, a pained but far away expression on his face, “I, uh… I didn’t know how else to show you I meant what I said. That I really, really like you.

“It’s okay,” Sara sighed, just hoping to move on from the issue, “I understand. Really. We all backtrack. I’m over it.”

“No, really. I don’t want you to think I made a scene just to distract from the way I acted,” he said slowly. “I really meant what I said—”

“Rodrick,” she said, eyes wide open, “It’s fine. It’s done. I’m over it.”

“No, I owe you an explanation,” he sighed, “I… I’ve just never had a real girlfriend before…”

“Dude, this isn’t exactly breaking news,” she looked at him with dead eyes.

“Okay, can you just not be a total fucking asshole for like one second?” Rodrick demanded with laughter.

“Okay, fine,” she threw her hands up in surrender, “I’m listening.”

The look on her face was less than convincing.

“You’re a bitch,” Rodrick laughed, no longer able to take himself seriously, “You’re a fucking bitch,” he pointed at her, his finger less than an inch from her face.

“Oh yeah?” she teased with a light chuckle, cigarette butt dropped to the ground and forgotten.

“Yeah.”

He stood in front of her, trying to remain serious as he leaned against the wall, his hand resting just above her head.

“You’re a fucking bitch,” he repeated playfully, trying to perfect his more serious demeanor.

“Am I a bitch, or are you just a little bitch?” Sara proposed, intentionally provoking him.

“No. You’re just a bitch,” he promised her.

Neither were sure exactly how it happened, but as he got in her face and challenged her, he attempted to jokingly pin her to the wall. At first, this entailed his arm resting on her chest, but then suddenly turned into something else entirely.

Rodrick didn’t intend it at all, but suddenly, the both of them found his hand slipped as he held her by the throat, still grinning.

“You’re such a fucking bitch,” he told her, before coming to and realizing that he was actually choking her.

First, his eyes fluttered as he realized the mistake he’d made, but once he saw he’d reaction, he felt himself giving into it.

“Fuck,” he moaned out loud, his finger pads pressing on her pressure points harder.

She softly sighed in excitement, the contact with the pressure points heightening the experience even more. Rodrick looked at her with pleading eyes as he choked her, admiring her gratuitously.

He leaned in to kiss her, groaning into her mouth as he pressed her against the wall with his large hand wrapped around her neck. She reacted by pulling him in by the collar, making him feel something even more euphoric. She deepens the kiss, tongue slipping into his mouth as he slowly moved his leg up her body, not stopping until his knee trailed down to her center.

For just a moment, he stopped kissing Sara, huffing softly into the warm skin of her neck.

“Is it bad that I kinda wanna see you fuck my knee right now?” he wondered.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “And it’s hot.”

He chuckled happily as he sucked on her neck, roughly biting and sucking. He pushed his knee against her, practically fucking her with it against the wall behind the roller rink. She quietly groaned in frustration as she tried to align herself perfectly on his knee.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he gasped, eyes closed as he kissed all over her neck. “I hope you know you could ask me for anything. I’d do anything for you, or to you.”

“You’re so sexy,” Sara whined.

“I’m serious. If you wanted me to, I’d eat it from the back, and enjoy it,” he said completely deadpan. “All I wanna do is take you home and lay you down and make you come any way I know how.”

“We should probably stop this,” Sara thought intuitively, “Before this wall ends up pregnant.”

“I can’t control myself when I’m around you. And not cuz I think you’re hot,” Rodrick stated. “Honestly. I just see you and I wanna give you everything.”

“You already have,” she confessed, never having seen anyone so willing to risk things for her.

A/N: not sure if this is good, wrote it after doing a line

#rodrick heffley #rodrick rules #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley x y/n #rodrick x y/n #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #diary of a wimpy kid #doawk rodrick #doawk #rodrick smut #rodrick heffley smut

152 notes · View notes

doodle-pops · 1 month

Text

Modern AU: Sugar Daddy | My Sugar Daddy Loves Me

Headcanon: Maglor, Finrod, Ecthelion, Thingol, Elrond

Request: Hi Mina I hope you doing well could you please write a part 2 of your sugar daddy au? With Ecthelion, Maglor, Finrod, Elrond and Maeglin - Anon

A/N: Not gonna lie, I had a hard time envisioning Finrod as a sugar daddy since I link those who are Daddy/DILF material as a sugar daddy. He seemed so aloof as a sugar daddy and more like Friends with Benefits lol.

Warnings: a female-focused reader, smut, breeding/creampies

➽ Part 1 | Part 2

➽ Modern AU Series

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Maglor

➽ He’s a world-renowned pop star who is beloved by everyone, and you are his lovely darling he met during a backstage meet and greet when he slipped his number into your back pocket and whispered, ‘Call me.’

➽ Of course you called him because that’s how you receive gifts on your doorstep after every performance he has, world tours, or when his albums go platinum. You are the mysterious lover that his fans talk about because of paparazzi.

➽ For the most of your dynamic shared with him, you are kept a secret because, to him, it makes everything more thrilling. All those posts of him on vacation or tours with snips of your hands, legs or back, or the albums being written about you, make everything invigorating.

➽ On the days when he does return from touring, you are showered in affection abundantly. Necklaces and anklets with your name or his name, dozens of roses, lingerie, the latest fashion wear, a lump sum of money floating into your account and some days between the sheets.

➽ Plus, that pretty black credit card in your back pocket feels incredibly heavy with all the financial opportunities it’s allowing you to make. It doesn’t bother him with you swipe his card to make your purchases because he has lots of trust in you (please don’t rob him).

➽ The dynamic between you both differs from the others who would reward you for excelling at your job or studies. With Maglor, he’ll reward you for being silent as he takes you in the recording booth during breaks, support him during his concerts, and when he wins awards.

➽ Apart from dropping all the materialistic gifts on you, Maglor takes him time to worship you from head to toe. You are, after all, the inspiration behind his best-selling albums, and he has inserted your moans as background vocals on some of his songs.

➽ A passion lover you got as a sugar daddy with an oral fixation (best his mouth). He has to show you how talented those lips are; singing isn’t all that he can do with his tongue. Plus, he’s also a guitarist, so let the realisation sink in with those fingers.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Finrod

➽ Right off the bat, his type of sugar daddy isn’t for pleasure purposes and it’s the last reason why he was willing to care for you. He just wants someone to spoil and spend lots of time with because he’s rich and lonely in his mansion.

➽ Being spoilt is something you never have to question because he’s eager to be your sugar daddy even though he doesn’t consider himself as one. He’ll just tell you that he’s a good friend helping another friend out while handing you his unlimited credit card and a bunch of gifts.

➽ The adventurous type to call you up in the middle of the night and TELL you that he already booked you all a flight a trip to a tropical island for two weeks filled with various fun activities. The idea that you have classes or work tomorrow doesn’t sink in until you’re reminding him.

➽ It’s a frequent occurrence with him visiting/calling at early hours to check out new places in the city or for you to come over because his giant house is lonely. At some point, you are living in with him and all the maids have become familiar with you.

➽ If you’re a college student, you are funded, and yes, he does have an interest in your academics. However, he’s a lot more understanding if you fail a course because he’s the reason (making you miss classes with those trips); he might suggest dropping out and letting him permanently care for you because he can also get you a decent job without a degree.

➽ As I mentioned, pleasure isn’t something Finrod is interested in during the agreement. That’s something you would have to initiate one night as you’re relaxing in bed or returning from dinner. Take the lead and make him rethink his agreement to incorporate it often and scrap the ‘friends’ talk.

➽ He isn’t someone who becomes stressed, so if anything, you’re the one who’s getting the rough sex when you’re stressed. He is happy to help because if you’re keeping him company, he has to return the favour with an open mind. And trust me when I say, he’s good at what he does but acts casual as if he didn’t strip away your ability to walk.

➽ At least your time being his sugar baby will be fun and filled with excitement, something that outshines the finances and pleasure he blesses you with. His desire for companionship helps to make the dynamic between you two worthwhile.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Ecthelion

➽ Responsible for marketing some of the most valuable gemstones around the world; mostly invested in the diamond stock market. The first time you met him and stepped into his house, you noticed how much he was obsessed with the gemstone. You don’t complain because it’s what he gifts you whenever you perform well for him.

➽ He covers all your tuition expenses and living commodities and gives you one of his unlimited credit cards to shop for your heart's desires. In return, you must bring home good grades (he’ll tell you what’s good) and keep up your good reputation. He doesn’t want you to ever tarnish your reputation.

➽ Ecthelion is wealthy and educated, so he doesn’t mind getting involved and invested in your field of work or degree program. Depending on what it is, he’ll extend his knowledge, but if he doesn’t know, he’ll make attempts to get you good connections to boost your career.

➽ So long as you maintain your good grades and reputation, you’re in it for life. He’s taking you vacations to tropical islands, opera shows, shopping sprees, buying you the most expensive jewellery sets and clothes. You will be rocking the best designer clothes, Ecthelion isn’t standing for you wearing simple clothes.

➽ Of course, when you perform excellently for him, he will return the favour with more than just trips and money. He established in the beginning that he was seeking companionship during your deal, and as much as he wanted to keep things professional, something about the red lipstick you adore wearing sucked him in.

➽ Perhaps allowing you to give him a blowjob under the table in his office during a quick visit and leaving lipstick smeared all over his cock made him change his mind about keeping things professional. He was pleased when you agreed to make the relationship more intimate than hugs and kisses.

➽ He wastes no time whenever he’s stressed to relieve himself through you (with your consent). You’re his little stress reliever, and in return, Ecthelion doesn’t mind letting you use him to beat your stress. Sex is rough and steamy between you both. You are getting bent over countertops, work desk, pressed against the wall, he’s hungry beneath his professional demeanour.

➽ While he is a formal and sophisticated gentleman, and he would not touch you inappropriately in public, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t purchase you vibrator panties and plugs. You’re sitting beside him during a conference meeting and he’s causally playing with the speed on his phone, making you cum.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Thingol

➽ This sugar daddy is drifting over to the DILF side of things and do not be fooled by his silver hair, he isn’t old, he’s simply trendy and into the latest fashion styles. Giovani, Armani, Dior, Marco Polo, Ralph Lauren and the list goes on. Thingol is an old-money type of sugar daddy, and he adores showing off his wealth to you.

➽ To be honest, Thingol really want to be your sugar daddy because he saw you and liked you. At the time, you were a broke college student or young worker struggling in the business world who used the opportunity he was providing to build your career and status.

➽ Thingol doesn’t care about all that (at first), but he does ensure all your needs and desires are met. Tuitions paid, loans cleared, no negative credit score or empty bank account. You’re the rich student on campus or your job that everyone is jealous of because he makes sure the world knows you’re spoilt by rolling up in some custom Rolls Royce or Bently.

➽ Your unlimited credit cards weigh a ton in your pocket, but who cares because you’re rich and being pampered as you deserve? Of course, nothing in life comes for free and without payment. Thingol might carry some age because he has a fully grown child, but he isn’t old.

➽ He makes it clear that he would enjoy being intimate and seeking companionship in return for the wealth spent on you. Do you decline, of course not (you can’t, or you’ll end up poor again).

➽ Thingol is the definition of old is the new young. This man has the stamina to last for a lifetime and makes sure you’re always satisfied. He can be stingy and demand that you give him more attention (he’s a receiver more than a giver). You’ll have to catch him in the right mood for him to be on the giving end.

➽ But still, you can’t complain because you’re getting good dic—. Anyway speaking of spoiling you, he adores whenever you’re completely decked out in lingerie for him, i.e. just all the jewellery he bought for you and nothing else.

➽ He does have a slight breeding kink, but it isn’t intending to want children, so you have nothing to worry about. Thingol just enjoys the sight of prettying his sugar baby.

➽ Know that he’ll gift you some necklace or ring that informs everyone that you’re his and no one else’s. If you ask him if it means he’s proposing, he’ll reply with something along the lines of, “You’re already mine princess, wedding ring or not.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Elrond

➽ DILF number three and it makes perfect sense since he’s a descendant of many DILFs (Fingolfin, Turgon, Thingol). But Elrond doesn’t mind being someone’s sugar daddy, though his intentions are more for genuine purposes. If you want more, you’re gonna have to do all the work to show him that it’s more than paying your tuition and giving you money.

➽ Nevertheless, he covers all your expenses and demands that you perform excellently in your field of study or job. Elrond would even go out of his way to personally teach you (and no, I don’t mean bending you over the desk type of teaching) to ensure success is at your fingertips.

➽ This man is the most passionate and dedicated sugar daddy who cares about your well-being to a great extent. He’s well-rounded, so he’s fulfilling all your needs and wants, health, education, finances, basic commodities and living expenses. Please don’t disappoint him by failing your classes, he’s pulling all his money into the best tutors.

➽ In return for your devotion and passion for excellence, you are getting spoiled but not like the others. Elrond doesn’t mind giving you money or taking you on shopping sprees or trips around the world, he simply doesn’t want you dependent dependent on him to always provide since he’s building you up to become your own boss and financially secure.

➽ He’ll spoil, but not to that extent. Such a philosophical man, teaching all about life and how to be independent and headstrong.

➽ Now, as I’ve previously mentioned, if you want him to take you to bed, impressions are everything. Elrond’s the type to get impressed by your sense of elegance, sophistication and linguistics. Show him how skilled your tongue is, and he’ll be wanting more. No doubt he’s rewriting the contract in his mind.

➽ He has kids and knows how to ramp in between the sheets. In his state, he probably isn’t interested in more given his desire for companionship, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to be giving out creampies. The sight of it is his catalyst for wanting to give you more and keep you up all night.

➽ He’s a gentleman in the streets and will incapacitate you in the sheets. Tricks up his sleeves despite having an old fashion appeal about him. Give him a dance dressed in some pretty lingerie—nothing overly fancy, he likes elegance and simplicity—while he sips on whisky or brandy in a button-down shirt and his tie lazily discarded around his neck.

➽ Treat him well because running multiple companies is tiring, so relieve his stress while he relieves yours and you’ll be the happiest sugar baby ever.

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @ladyenchanted @mcwentfandomtraveling @involuntaryspasms @aconstructofamind @addaigio

If you would like to be tagged, click the taglist link.

105 notes · View notes