#awkward break dancing

[ohbluejay]

bound by fate or faith or both or neither ———                        ( what will become of us now that we are three? )

#edit. #w. magpie. #w. rook. #w. corvids. #awkward break dancing #(also yes drawn by me . not just plucked from google . dskjfhsdf)

[valeriianz]

You are an obsession, you're my obsession Who do you want me to be to make you sleep with me?

“Hello, Hob,” a low, sultry, and achingly familiar voice speaks behind him, cutting through the heavy bass reverberating off the walls and straight through Hob’s chest, lighting him up.

Turning, Hob finds– who he’d been referring to as– his stranger behind him, close enough to reach out and touch. They’re in the middle of the dance floor, bodies packed and grinding all night, but somehow they’ve given them room now.

Hob was dreaming, he was aware of it almost immediately. He’s been thrown back into the 1980s, one of Hob’s favorite periods of the 20th century, and in a nightclub no less. The music loud enough to penetrate skin, feeling the twangy synth pop in his bones. Everyone around him dressed in every color of the rainbow, over accessorized in neon hoop earrings and bangles, leg warmers, windbreakers, and mesh patterns. 

Hob’s dreams often took him back in time, and he wondered what prompted this. Though as Hob often did in his dreams, instead of considering why, he simply indulged. The music wasn’t anything particular, perhaps nothing was actually playing and it was all in his head, but Hob had felt the push and pull of everyone around him and followed along like a buoy at sea.

And now, feeling drunk off the sticky sweet air in the room, Hob grins as he boldly steps into his stranger’s space and slips both arms around his middle, pulling so his skinny, pale, gorgeous friend is flush against him.

He’d been dancing with strangers all night, shadows with indeterminate faces, allowing them to trace patterns on his skin, grip his shoulders or tug on his shirt. Hob hadn’t been dancing or even hanging around loud bars or clubs in decades, maybe somewhere deep in his subconscious, he missed it. Missed the anonymity of it all, getting high off everyone else’s pleasure and succumbing to it. So it made sense, as Hob felt himself getting hot, his skin prickling, that his imagination would wander, drifting to his perfect stranger. The only constant in his life, and someone who frequented Hob’s dreams often, especially as their centennial meetings came around or passed.

Though this iteration of his friend appeared distinctly… solid. He was dressed in that long black coat and skinny jeans from their last meeting (where he’d apologized, apologized! And called Hob a friend), his black hair gently tousled as before.

Hob paid it no mind as his tongue finally became useful and spoke for him.

“Hello, stranger.” he tried his best to mimic his friend’s deep voice and giggled at himself, cataloging the twitch of amusement in his usual stony face.

“You were thinking about me.” He spoke again, choosing to not point out how Hob currently had his arms ensnared around him and swaying them back and forth. “In a place like this.”

His stranger cast his gaze about the room and Hob noticed, in the pulsing lights, his eyes were black, all the way to the sclera, not the crystal blue that Hob had become so acquainted with. It was startling, and as the strobe lights began to flicker, Hob watched his friend’s eyes shimmer as well, like stars dancing in the night sky.

“I’m always thinking about you,” Hob spoke, transfixed. He hadn’t meant to say that, but fuck it, this was a dream and he’d said and done much worse with his oldest friend, to this stranger, in the comfort of his own head. “Even if I don’t know your bloody name yet.”

Those piercing eyes focused back on Hob and he felt himself physically wobble, holding onto his friend now for support.

“Oh, I am aware.” Hob caught his breath at the genuine smile his friend gave him, much like the one in the New Inn just days ago. “But you do know my name, you must, in order to summon me like this.”

Hob huffed, impatient. His friend’s hands were still resolutely at his side, unmoving even as Hob squeezed and swayed with a little more force.

“Sure, Dream Stranger,” Hob’s arms eased up just enough to slot his hands against bony hips and pull, making him stagger forward. Hob smirked, elated at the absolute shock reflected in the man’s expression.

“Now get with the program,” Hob leaned in, touching his nose to his stranger’s, the slight gasp it caused going straight to Hob’s cock. “And put your hands on me.”

He didn’t pull away, which was good. This dream had been derailed long enough. And finally, finally Hob’s dream lifted his arms and surrounded Hob’s face in his hands.

Big hands, Hob realized as his entire body went still. Big fucking hands, with long fingers, cool to the touch, and slipping back into his hair. Hob felt like he’d been electrocuted, his face forced forward, pupils shaking as he met his stranger dead on, getting lost in the inky black atmosphere of his impalpable eyes.

“Ah,” Hob eloquently said, swallowing hard. “This is different.”

“Is it?” His stranger gave a smirk of his own, lips turning up sharp at the corners, like they could cut. “How do these dreams normally proceed?”

Slowly, like pieces fitting into a puzzle, understanding trickles in Hob’s brain and his eyes go wide, his heart stopping before kicking back up in double time.

“Oh, you’re– really here, aren’t you.” It’s not a question. Hob would feel more embarrassed about this if his ancient friend wasn’t holding him at eye level, scrutinizing in an obnoxiously amusing way.

“Yes.”

Hob wets his lips and doesn’t miss how the galaxy flicks down to watch the motion. “And your name is…”

“Dream.” His fingers tangle further into Hob’s hair, gripping it and causing Hob’s jaw to drop with a not-so-quiet groan.

He leans in close, cold lips brushing Hob’s jaw and making every hair stand on end. 

“I would appreciate it if you used it now, Hob Gadling.”

Hob’s eyes flutter shut, his fingers pressing on narrow hips hard enough to bruise. “Dream?”

“Mm…” Dream purrs, like a cat content, as he nuzzles his way up Hob’s neck to speak hotly in his ear. “Again.”

Hob gasps like the air has been ripped from him as Dream bites the top of his ear, sending a bolt of electricity down his spine and causing his hips to twitch involuntarily.

“Dream.” Hob tilts his head, exposing his neck as Dream’s lips drag along the stubble there, licking and nibbling as he goes. “Oh my god–”

“Again.” The demand is punctuated with one hand moving from Hob’s hair to his backside, groping roughly and setting Hob on fire as he feels the confined outline of Dream’s arousal press against his own straining erection.

“Fuck–” Hob releases Dream’s hips and holds onto his face instead, pulling it from his abused neck and forcing their mouths together.

The kiss is the most grounding Hob has ever felt, but also fleeting, delicate like a cloud. Hob holds on like Dream could vanish, melt into the floorboards or dissolve into a pile of sand– sand! God, Hob was an idiot.

Dream’s tongue invades Hob’s mouth like a cavalry, drowning Hob. Bites his bottom lip like a brand, a claim, drawing blood and making Hob shake with want. The dance floor suddenly becomes vacant, people vanishing, music filtering out like a volume knob had been turned down. Hob’s hands settle on Dream’s shoulders and push, walking them backwards until Dream’s back connects with a wall and Hob thrusts his entire body onto him. The impact forces a cough of surprise from Dream and Hob likes it, elated to elicit any kind of reaction from his friend.

“You make me crazy,” Hob bites out, pressing his own fingers against Dream’s throat and up into his silky soft hair, grabbing it and watching his friend to see how his eyes glint something hot and dangerous. “You know that?”

“Would you demonstrate it for me?” Dream’s lips curl, enticing and provoking, daring Hob to say yes. To take Dream apart and show him every fantasy he’s ever conjured up. To act on every impure thought Hob’s ever had, every fleeting glance or touch turned purposeful and laden with desire.

Hob would take Dream apart, if that’s what he wished. And here, in his dream, anything was possible, and Hob intended to keep him here as long as he could, letting Dream into his darkest whims and satisfactions. Perhaps he already knew, could feel it in Hob, the way Dream made him ache, the way he made him hunger. 

Slipping his fingers through Dream’s belt loops, Hob pulled as he rolled his hips, connecting their fronts and knocking his head back with the bolt of pleasure. Dream’s hands fisted into his shirt and held on as they met again and again.

“Hob–” Dream crooned, his mouth at his collarbone.

“Yes,” Hob finally answered, his head coming down to watch Dream, seduced by the exploding cosmos in his eyes. “I would show you everything.”

#dreamling #hob gadling #dream x hob #inspired by the song Obsession by Animotion #well this got out of hand #this was just gonna be them dancing #i wanted hob to goad dream into it and it be awkward and funny #mostly i just wanted to see dream stiff as a board and hob laughing at him #and then i fucking wrote this lol #not that im complaining #i still want to write them being silly and dancing #also #HAPPY SANDMAN RENEWAL AHHH #my writing #edit: tumblr ate my Read More break and its already been reblogged without it ahh #oh well #as long as youre okay with a 1.5k fic post on your blog #without a page break lol #*self consciousness trickles in*

[caralara]

.

#ok I need to rant #first half of the show I started to regret buying so many expensive tickets for HSLOT #because Harry seemed extremely disconnected and on #performer autopilot #I’d even say he looked bored and tired of yet another HSLOT tour show #the set list order didn’t really work well for me until the disco medley #that’s when I felt it got better bc it warmed the crowd and Harry up #but yeah he didn’t seem to be there much imo #(I’m hyper sensitive to this tho so it might not be as dramatic as I experienced it) #the crowd was pretty dead #there was literally no applause after fine line #bc everyone cried #and it made the encore break super awkward #but #BUT he caught my flag during TPWK and ran with it!!! #AND we had a lil dancey dance pointy point during sushi I think it was #but yeah idk #I experienced Harry in Berlin last year and these two shows were like a million miles apart

[eurovisionart]

Silver Wings - Mangup

#Silver Wings #Mangup #yugoslavia esc #yugoslavia eurovision #a song with a dance break?! #that concludes 1988! #also - I will make a short post about this but I will be taking a short hiatus #my poses are always so awkward lol and I can't figure out why as I intensely stare at my references #Mangup means rascal apparently

[unproduciblesmackdown]

with the recent like self-analytical framework of [putting hand on own shoulder] "are you looking for the external validation of value in this which would never be guaranteed, and you don't even think it should be contingent on this anyways" it's like, that also speaks more to like "yeah i did really enjoy live performance / theatre-adjacent and -overlapping stuff"

like i have my sense of how much i loved things and none of that involves any memories of having enjoyed it b/c of any feedback i got, from peers or instructors or anything. memories of curtain calls don't stand out much. like fun Specific Feedback was a kind older (relative to me) performer with the central role telling me that my literal leaping onstage (dance performance. grande jete entrance) despite a technical difficulty that would have to be improvised around was Inspirational/Motivating lol. i stopped having any particular stage fright (although is that when you're onstage? more like, anxiety beforehand about messing up. being onstage was the easier, enjoyable part) thanks to just having to yolo through those technical difficulties lol....anyways and then that same show actually, some relative to me younger audience member's dad was like "she's your (role's) biggest fan" and we nervously take a pic together lol. these things were fun & standout but Not Even It; not at all like "this is what makes it all worth it" like this is largely beside the point but a fun little bonus outlier event or two

like there was also no "i loved it b/c of Being In A Cast" nor b/c of any particular like, hanging out having fun Social Element. i loved rehearsing, though. loved being backstage (or in green rooms, or dressing rooms) but not because of any particular company or goings on. loved waiting & practicing / warming up & getting things together like your own costuming & being summoned to backstage & whatall. loved all the technical elements of getting a show together, when things were being assembled / worked out, though i didn't get to have much of any active hand b/c i'm like this twelve year old just learning the part, but it was fun to witness. none of my sense of what contributed to having a great time entailed any particular praise or anything; there was some implicitness in how all at once i graduated from [ensemble performance, back row for tall people] to [roles with solos] and the like, but there was just like, being busy, doing things well enough that it just wasn't Impeding anything lol, and in other arenas where i might've gotten more comments about being like, an outlier per whatever measure of success, it was definitely like, it's all just [successfully avoided negative attention] and ofc people think good grades are good but i'm not particularly moved by the awareness that that in turn is what's good or impressive about me, or something. or that i have to have anything like that for [successfully avoided negative attention]

and i wouldn't have like, done a monologue to an empty room and been like wow magical. i'd do my thing for rehearsal, and then for an audience, but you can't really see the audience and you're like ten doing local ten year old recreational stuff so it's like, the curtain calls you don't remember much (by you i mean me) and then you're done, and for me it was the fun of just like Everything Before. no like classic memories montage of great times socializing, it was me sitting in the green room equivalent, me warming up in the hallway, enjoying being in an auditorium for like 7 hrs of rehearsal, etc, we didn't do any like social events like high school performance afterparties or anything; i wasn't like Friends w/even the occasional person i also knew from school, and that didn't matter or diminish things in the least. performing A Show and for whatever Audience and that abstract is completely good enough. any of my parents' involvement, unavoidable b/c i couldn't even get places without being driven, was a major downside; i didn't like any like post performance [congrats] from them b/c that stuff was just its own unconstructive Performance that you, by which i mean me, were required to be sufficiently like Oh Wow about when it's like, the focused attention from you here means i want to leave; being left all amongst other adults during rehearsals was the good shit, while it also wasn't the case i needed like support or hype from any of those adults either.

there was Some tradition of like, older students in some program who'd take a trip to nyc / do some performance or other, and that seemed exciting but it stopped existing before it could be relevant to me lol. also for the first like, show that was like "audition for parts" vs "class recitals" they gave us like a relevant keepsake for it, and that was a nice surprise, since i had a great experience and all. and one of my main [not dance, with lines and everything] experiences being this fourth grade english class scenes from julius caesar, auditioned again, i'm like hell yeah that this has to be nongendered b/c it's all a bunch of guys, so i play a guy, and an antagonist yippee who doesn't die midway through and sounds easy-peasy to be like [be the dictator assassin] lol. it's funny how already i Cared about like, wish we had Effects instead of awkward silence for the drama of that assassination. wish i like, knew fuckall about acting. but the teacher just focused on telling us all to talk louder b/c nobody could be individually mic'd, and in the end you really couldn't hear fuckall of other performances so that was a win. and we got to do it twice b/c some people's parents got stuck in traffic. all i remember of my parents' presence was being like "omg yes i get to stop being here talking to you b/c we get to do that Again hell yeah"

like it's social but in a Parallel way. i'm contributing my part, i know my role, you know yours, i'm fondly remembering sitting in some school lobby having mini muffins with hours to go before our performance, amongst other people but not at all hyped abt interactions with them or at all disappointed abt the absence of any. i enjoyed it all being in front of people, others involved in the show, or the audience, but i wasn't there for any specific feedback, just being Part of that group constructed experience there. truly this case of like....loved all of that exactly as it happened, was on my own shit, did not need any external validation, didn't need a specific kind of Socializing that's supposed to look like having individual interactions with personal friends, had this passion for it that i also was having a perfectly good time exploring on my own, whilest also enjoying working with / learning from whatever instruction i got. like sure wishing i knew fuckall about acting but that it turns out no not everyone necessarily all loves stage acting as The Peak like that, and this comfort and interest with it that comes from like, you have all the practice of Having to perform and mask and act in life against your supposed incorrect abnormalities, but here's this constructive and creative and expansive edition of that art and science. good enough for doing it all through like fourteen

#the like metanalysis i'm applying to the wynnstannery journey meanwhile....a multifaceted like Oh Yeah I See places hand on surface #tl;dr like yeah i would love to do theatre in w/e ways and i would truly enjoy my experience completely in its own right. b/c i Have.... #stopped dance when i was fourteen coz knee hurty; gender hurty; parental involvement hurty; was going into college and was like will i even #have time for dance stuff? like yeah maybe but i didn't know it & figured i'd probably be forever busy & fail out anyways. took a break. #and that first year there was some delightful The Shakespearean Theater Just Down The Street also theatre adjacent class experiences #which was just More expansive & More evidence like yes i love all this shit a lotttt thanks #however at this juncture like; oh you Can audition for school theatre & even get there by yourself #didn't want family to know & come; didn't want to be alongside ppl who Did have all this high school experience and even if they didn't #were older so just probably at all better at shit lol. also my roommate had a lot of theatre interest & experience so i would've felt #awkward or out of place. like i do Not want to have to be really socially connected or like be criticized on some As Personal Acquaintances #supposed helpful basis lol. was sort of peripherally eventually [theatre doers] socially involved but eh #i had fun helping out with behind the scenes stuff Sometimes; or just hanging out in that arena #but i didn't make friends really & the true Downgrade was feeling like i was supposed to be / Had to be #one of those cases even when it's like ''yeah for some people they let you be around peripherally b/c you're the butt of the joke'' #like yeah great lmfao This Isn't It....but then going off oneself to some pwyw shakespeare show where you don't know what's going on but #that's not even required to enjoy it and Live Theatre and hell yeah babey. the actors were all whole adults & professionals & kind #like for me the social aspect is [when you're In A Show there's more afforded ''you're allowed to be here''] lol & that's it. #i like being around people but i like being there ''by myself.'' i can enjoy spontaneous; fleeting interactions contained in that moment #i don't need or even want those to Lead To Something That ''Actually Matters'' like an ongoing personal friendship or w/e #i enjoy those interactions in their own right; interacting in the capacity of both doing Show Tasks in their own right #i enjoy being in these Performances and Rehearsals in their own right & All The Enjoyment Was Already There. #i never needed or particularly looked for Especial Feedback from any sources. there needed to be an audience but that presence Was It. #i was engaged & enriched & interested in my own right. all very clear and clearly Genuine #vs whatever i was recognized as especially Good At or what i would just kind of do / was supposed to do but it's like; eh #or just otherwise like yeah i like some of this; but not nearly as much; &/or there clearly aren't ways to engage w/it in ways that i #actually want to or enjoy. i loved having a part but never needed it to be like Solo or the Main part. when i was doing & had done the #performing in rehearsals or shows like That Was It; that was what was fun. didn't anticipate or need the least Especial Feedback #just knowing like yeah that's the good shit. this is a real Passion that i enjoyed w/o ever needing anything ''more'' / external validation #wahoo....and the inherent value & relevance in just Knowing of that fact lol. wasn't always clear to me like yeah we all love that shit #in just the way that i did; right. like lol maybe not exactly and not always; actually.

[writeineveryemptyspace]

I’m on my sports AU bullshit again, but hear me out.

Luke and the boys are baseball players. They know of each other because they’ve competed against each other, but they don’t really know each other

Julie [18 or 19] and her family live on Cape Cod

Luke and the boys all get drafted to the same team for the Cape Cod summer league (they’re all like ~19 or 20)

Julie’s family houses one of them (I’m picking Reggie for this version of my idea)

The boys meet and become fast friends. They have a busy summer but Ray insists on a family dinner once a week (when possible) and Reggie invites the boys over because like... a home cooked meal you guys!!

Luke like immediately trips over himself and falls in love with Julie (when he shows up she’s in the yard wearing a baseball jersey, a backwards baseball cap, and playing ball with Carlos)

Carlos LOVES the boys because he loves baseball and they are all the cool older brothers he never had

Julie and Flynn go to the games and Flynn 1000% clocks the crush Julie has on Luke (he plays with her brother! They wrote a dumb little song together while doing the dishes! He’s hot! Have you seen his ass in those baseball pants??)

Anyways, Julie and Flynn have always promised each other they wouldn’t hook up with the summer leaguers (or tourists!!) so when they go to a bonfire on the beach with the team, Julie avoids the heck out of Luke until he finally gets her to talk to him

And he maybe walks her home and kisses her goodnight

Then he panics and is like I can’t I have to focus on the game. 

It’s awkward but they make things ok again

And then the draft happens and he’s watching at Julie’s house with the boys and he gets drafted(!!!) and there is some celebratory kissing especially because the team is based near where Julie is going to college

#jatp #juke #fic idea #baseball AU #or it could be a bit more of a slow burn where they kiss once that summer then Luke goes back to school #and he and Julie are pen pals #and then he comes back the following season and they do an awkward dance around the elephant in the room #and then the dam breaks and they are inseperable #then he can get drafted or whatever

[shabby-alonso]

oh my girl choreographer needs a strong talking to...

#like overall it's fine if overly reliant on small and subtle hand gestures that can in no way be read from the actual audience #but the formations are so messy and awkward #they're always spaced weirdly and seem to be trying to hide members most of the time bc the choreographer doesn't know how to work with #an even number of dancers #like even when they break into three and three it's blocked weird idk #i have no real formal dance experience so i really am just talking here but idk man

[ozzgin]

More of the yandere monster???? Like their married life, him being such a cutie cutie and the reader is a willing person to his yandere tendencies. Like him physically fighting someone for flirting with her for .01 second and her just being 😍🥰

Alright anon, seeing as this has once again resurfaced, I'll cover a little bit of marital life as per your suggestion. (I'm hoping you're referring to the older sibling monster)

Yandere! Monster Husband x Reader

A little change of plans and the wedding you've been kidnapped for continued without a hitch, except you married the monstrous sibling instead. Made for an awkward celebratory dinner, but no one dared to oppose the Beast.

Content: female reader, monster romance, mildly NSFW, saga of the monster hoe reader continues

[First part]

The next family dinner was quiet. You couldn't help but wonder if your horniness had gone too far, slowly chewing your food and occasionally peeking at the ex-groom with remorseful eyes. Poor guy, you thought. "Well, it's quite convenient, isn't it?" he finally said, breaking the silence. The cutlery sounds paused, and you lifted your gaze again. The man flashed you a radiant smile, which emphasized his handsome features even more. "I mean, we weren't sure we'd ever find a wife for my brother. He has a bit of an attitude, and even monsters are afraid of him. The only marriage attempt-" his speech was interrupted by a grunt, and you turned towards your monstrous boyfriend. The older sibling was frowning, visibly embarrassed. "Oh, I remember!" the mother of the siblings, a halfling herself, suddenly chuckled into her glass, taking a generous sip before continuing: "We'd arranged for a fellow monster to meet him, and the poor soul got so frightened she blended in with the background! Took us two days to find her! She came from a chameleon family, I recall."

Everyone at the table began to laugh and you joined, although with a mild annoyance tinged into your voice. So what, there was no reason for you to be plagued by guilt? You even refused a night escapade with your boyfriend until things "settled", as a way to be respectful towards the cucked party. All for naught. At least now you could be ravaged without further consequences. When the mother in law had pulled you aside hours earlier to make sure you weren't coerced into this arrangement, you had to hold back from crassly confessing you'd slurp her son empty of fluids at any hour of the day. Some things are better left untold.

Unfortunately, one detail couldn't be changed in time: the guest list. As this had been an event meant to strengthen the ties between humans, no one outside of the immediate family graced the venue with their monstrous presence. Many guests were intrigued by the outcome of the affair, terribly curious to see the famed wife-to-be of the gruesome, feared Head of the royal army. Even more so once they discovered it was a regular human by all means. "Fascinating!", the old ladies would occasionally cry out, clutching the plump, expensive pearls adorning their necks. You had to frequently excuse yourself in order to dodge the rather indecent questions regarding your relationship. Except when you did manage to sneak away, one of the younger men of names and titles you never registered would approach you for a dance. "Truly a pitiful matter", they'd whisper much too close to your ear. "You would've made a lovely bride for a fellow human."

"You're unexpectedly calm about this", the prince mentioned to his older brother at some point during the wedding night. "Are you not bothered by all the acquaintances flocking to your bride?" The monster shook his head with a sigh. He hadn't known you for that long yet, but one thing he was certain of: it's not humans he needed to fear.

Indeed, having a wife with a monster kink is particularly challenging when most of the husband's work involves similar creatures. The first months after the marriage were stalked by the insidious doubt that his luck was just that: mere coincidence. Would you have displayed the same interest had he not been the only beast at the table? Would you still pick him in a room full of monsters? Such questions followed him each day, feeding into an ever-growing jealousy.

"What are you doing here!", he exclaimed in despair once he noticed your arrival at his training camp. "You forgot your lunch", you explained, eyebrows raised in confusion. Oh, for fuck's sake. He quickly pulled you away, glaring at the subordinates startled by the commotion. They must've been eyeing (Y/N) like rabid dogs, he thought. Next thing you know, you'll be scooped away by some horned scoundrel. He can't have that.

Initially, the rage-filled, obsession-driven fuck you'd receive almost daily was welcomed with shameless begging. The way your monster husband would pin you down under his claws and thrust into you so hard, you could see its movement in waves across your stomach. The way he'd forcefully spread your legs, hungrily sinking his nails into the soft flesh of your thighs and gnawing your shoulders in delirious need. The tears that sheepishly formed in the corners of your hooded eyes would only incite him more. "Bite onto my hand if you can't take it anymore", he'd coo without stopping. As much as you liked to be left a limp, drooling mess, the soreness grew unbearable. Enough was enough when you found yourself carrying a cushion to sit down on any surface.

"Listen, we need to have a talk." You greeted him solemnly once he returned from his military duties. Oh, no. Absolutely not. The monstrous husband bit his lips in panic, immediately going through a mental list of all his subordinates. Or was it someone in the family that slithered their way into your heart? Is that what it was about, that you'd found a different creature? No matter, you weren't going anywhere. "I don't want to hear about it", he declared dramatically. "I have a bruised cervix!" you shouted in disbelief. "Huh?" He stared at you. "It hurts even when I lay down, man. You have to tone it down. At least for a little while."

Ah. Awkward. You noticed his flinch, and patted the empty seat next to you. "What did you think I was going to say?" The bench groaned under the weight of his gargantuan body. Hands folded in his lap like a punished schoolboy, your husband began to narrate the tale of his seething envy and frenzied passion for you. You must understand, he's never cared for anyone as much. To hell with duty and honor, he would kill his own father if his touch on you lingered one second longer than permitted. "Alright, but you must control yourself a little", you reminded him gently. "Never, my urge to obliterate any threat in my path is insatiable", he concluded with vehemence. "Yes, yes, that I understand. The sex, I mean", you gesticulated. "Of course. My apologies, I got sidetracked."

Somehow, he didn't expect to leave this conversation with a cathartic approval of his possessiveness. "Surely you must be upset by my fanatical behavior", he suggested meekly. "Oh no, it's part of your charm", you reassured him with a smile. "It's just not that sustainable in bed without the occasional break." You pat your stomach to express your misfortune.

Sadly, your monster fucking dreams must adhere to the laws of biology.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #monster x reader #monster x human #terato #teratophillia #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #monster imagine #monster romance #monster husband #monster smut #monster fucker #female reader

[angelltheninth]

Back in the Dating Game

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, new relationship, first date, phone calls, being flustered, gifts, kissing, poly Lucilith, Lucifer Morningstar is a gentleman and silly

Word count: 1.2k

Summary: After a while of dancing around it you and Lucifer are finally going on a date. He's been freaking out about it and goes to ask the only person he can for advice, his daughter, Charlie.

A/N: This came to me at like 2 in the morning and I thought it was hilarious.

Over a month has passed since Charlie and her friends battle with Adam and Hell is slowly going back to... it's usual brand of chaos. Lucifer however has his own worries past Hell's current affairs. His upcoming date.

"It's a date. A date. You've been on dates before. You're the King of Hell!" He yelled at his own reflection, ferocious at first and then sunk back down into his chair. "Like ten thousand years ago. Ugh. Why is it still so hard. I gotta find someone who... wait... that's it!"

He rushed out the door of his bedroom, greeting one Hotel staff member after the other, even Alastor, although he swore that the Radio Demon tried to trip him. It was still early morning so he choose to leave him be. For now.

"Charlie can I- oh- oh my golly-!" Lucifer was has never looked away faster in his life, his long, long life.

"Dad! What the FUCK is wrong with you?!" Charlie kicked her legs so fast one of her hooves smacked Vaggie in the face. "Shit! Vaggie I'm so sorry! Are you bleeding! Oh my god you are!"

Vaggie put her hand up and instead of bothering to stop the bleeding searched for her nightgown. There were few things worse then getting caught between her girlfriend's legs.

"Are uh... you two dressed now?" Lucifer coughed awkwardly as he listened to the commotion behind him. "I'm so sorry I didn't know you two were- I mean it's fine you're girlfriends and sex is a very natural-"

"Dad, please don't. You can turn around just... knock next time." Lucifer turned around, one hand still on his face, "You can look, we're dressed."

The King of Hell cleared his throat, standing there for a few more moments before walking over to a chair and sitting down. "Soooo... wings huh? Hey, me too! Aha-haaa!" He grinned way to much, trying to break the awkward atmosphere. "Charlie... you like girls right?"

"Yes? Didn't you just... dad, what's going on?"

He gulped, tapping his fingers on his cane, "There's this woman I've kind of, maybe, soft of been seeing and... well your old man's been out of the dating game for the past ten thousand years. It's... I'm nervous about the date tonight." He was out of breath by the time he finished talking, almost shaking.

Charlie and Vaggie looked at each other, and a moment later Charlie exploded with excitement.

"Who is she? When did you meet? Did you kiss yet? Is she as pretty as mom? Does she like singing? Have you kissed yet or not?! Wait I already asked that!"

"Charlie, Charlie calm down! This is gonna be our first official date. Your mom gave a thumbs up? We didn't talk much though. I really think this-" A phone rang in his pocket, "Oh! Oh god! It's her! What do I do?!"

"Pick up the phone?" Vaggie suggested.

"Good idea Gabby! That's why I like you!" That wasn't even close to her name but okay, he was under a lot of stress. "What do I say?"

"Just... be yourself?" Not helpful.

"Myself. Okay. I'm Lucifer. The King of Hell!" He took a deep breath and pressed answer, "Hey bitch!"

Both Charlie and Vaggie faceplalmed, Vaggie cringing more because of her busted nose and lip.

"Uhm, hey Lucifer. Are we still on for tonight?" You asked with no small amount of stress of your own. You were getting a date with the King of Hell, it was scary and exciting at the same time.

"Of course we're on! We are gonna get it on! Not like that, no! I uh... want to..." He looked to the side where both Charlie and Vaggie made X gestures with their arms, "Make you an X?"

You laughed at how nervous he sounded too, "Already dumping me? You haven't even kissed me yet. I'm not that bad at it, I promise."

"No, no I don't mean... I look forward to seeing you tonight. It will be the best, most romantic, the most magical shit you've ever seen... baby?" Lucifer tried to chuckle but it sounded very forced.

"Well okay then. Sweep me off my feet, my good sir." Look at you, already using petnames for each other.

"S-Sir...?" His mind was already going places that were very much not appropriate in front of his daughter and her girlfriend, "See you tonight!" He ended the call, "That went well. Wish me luck Charlie! Oh and use protection! Your old man ain't ready to be a grandpa yet."

"Daaad!" Charlie blushed a deep red as Lucifer stepped through a portal and back into his room.

The knock at your door was quick and hard, and a few minutes early. But you knew who it was, the hat and the wings were a dead giveaway. You checked your outfit and make-up in the mirror one last time before opening the door and beholding the King of Hell himself holding out flowers for you with a shy smile on his face.

"Hope these aren't too much for a first date." He handed them off to you. "They're alive! They're gonna be great houseguards when they grow fully." Good, then you wouldn't have to feed them. The demons breaking into your home will do that.

"Thank you, I'm sure they'll be lovely." You put them aside and took his hand as he tapped his cane on the floor and opened a portal to a restaurant you haven't been to before. It looked much too fancy, but not for the King. "Wow."

Lucifer pulled out a chair for you but tripped over his own. "I'm okay!"

He was such a goof ball.

"I uh... look, I need to be honest with you. I haven't been on a date in a while. I don't know how to do... this. I walked in on my daughter with her girlfriend today because I couldn't figure out how to talk to you!" He leaned against his chair and ran his hand across his face, his red cheeks reddening even more.

"Lucifer, it's fine." You reached for his hand, "You're the King of Hell. I was scared to go out with you, I didn't know what to expect. Your reputation is pretty intimidating. But I'm glad you're not that guy."

"And what kind of guy am I?" He leaned in, so interested in what you had to say. He'd been judged for so long, for all the wrong things, he had to know what you think.

"Really funny, someone who cares about his family, charming, and dare I say devilishly handsome." You pushed yourself over the desk and kissed him on the cheek, in front of everyone. "And so cute when you blush." You whispered and looked at him with hooded eyes. Lucifer didn't reply but you did see his tail moving behind him. "Puppy energy. Interesting."

"Oh no, I'm not into pet play. But I'm sure we can find other things we're both into." His eyebrows wiggled as he let his long tongue curl at you. You clenched your legs, excited for more dates with him if this is the energy he's gonna bring every time.

#hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel fanfiction #lucifer morningstar headcanon #lucifer morningstar fanfiction #lucifer headcanons #lucifer fanfiction #hazbin hotel fluff #lucifer morningstar fluff #lucifer fluff #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #x female reader

[marvelslittlewhore]

Hands Off

REQUEST | protective rafe? like maybe theyre at a party and the reader gets into some trouble? LOVE UR WRITINGG

PAIRING | bf!rafe cameron x kook!fem!reader

WARNINGS | non-con touching (not by rafe ofc), drinking, protective!rafe

A/N | thank you!! I hope this is what you wanted haha 💕

            ◃◦--------------●--------------◦▹

You were having the time of your life, just dancing and drinking, distracting yourself from the current family drama that was going on at home. Tonight you forbid yourself to think about any of it and Rafe was more than happy to help you out with that.

Right now you were practically grinding against him, your arms reaching up to wrap around his neck to pull him into a heated kiss. When he pulled back you were about to take another sip from your cup, frowning when you realized it was empty.

"I'll be right back." You shouted over the loud music, seeing how he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion so you raised your empty cup to show him.

He then nodded, capturing you lips in another quick kiss, watching you leave the dance floor. He turns to chat with Topper and Kelce to kill the time you weren't pressed against him.

You just finished filling your cup when you felt a hand snake around your waist. Smiling you turned around and were about to tease Rafe for being clingy. What you didn't expect was some random idiot you recognized from school, Ryan, when you remembered correctly.

"You're Y/n, right?" He asked and you nodded taking a step to the side so he wasn't touching you anymore.

You grabbed another empty cup to fill up for Rafe, and to avoid this awkward situation, hoping Ryan would get the message and just leave you alone.

Oh how wrong you were.

"Would you like to dance?" he tested the waters, grabbing the cup from your hands to fill it for you as if you're not capable yourself.

"Sorry, I'm not interested-" You quickly turned him down, reaching out to take the cup back but he held it away from your reach.

Either he's incredibly brave or stupid. You and Rafe were the kook couple from the outer banks. The island prince and princess who attend every event or party hand in hand.

"Come on, just one dance, then I'll leave you alone," he smirked.

You cringed on the inside, looking around for any sign of Rafe, or even Topper, cursing under your breath but still smiling like always and trying not to show how uncomfortable you actually were.

"I have a boyfriend." You said, expecting him to now awkwardly walk away but you're startled when he suddenly pulled you against him.

"I don't see him, you?" he whispered and now you were starting to panic, your heart pounding like crazy.

"You better take your fucking hands off my girl before I'll break them." Rafe's sudden voice had you sighing in relief.

Ryan quickly let go of you and you took a few steps back, bumping into Topper who pulled you behind him.

"What? You were all cocky a few seconds ago, what happened?" Rafe laughed, throwing his arm around Ryan's shoulder. "How about we go outside, hm? Have a nice chat?" he emphasized the word 'nice' with a quick raise of his eyebrows.

"I didn't-" he started to apologize but Rafe just dragged him away and outside with Kelce following right behind them.

You wanted to go after them but Topper stood in front of you, blocking your way out. "Whoa, don't worry about them, they'll be back soon."

"Top, we both know he won't go easy on him. Let me just-" You walked past him and he grabbed your arm, turning you back to face him.

"And he won't go easy on me either when he finds out I let you go and witness it." he reminded you and you rolled your eyes, fixing your dress and trying to brush off the uneasy feeling you have in your chest while Topper eyes you with genuine concern. "You good?"

"Mhm, just a little shaken up. I'm alright," you assured him.

You looked around, seeing Rafe coming back inside rubbing his knuckles while walking towards you. He was breathing heavily, and you reached up to fix a few strains of his hair.

Looking down at his hands you gasped softly, seeing how bruised his knuckles were. "Rafe..."

"Hey, I'm okay, you should see him," he smirked proudly and you hit his chest before burying your face in it.

He wraps his arms around you, kissing the top of your head before asking. "Are you okay?"

You just nodded against him, holding onto his polo shirt to ground yourself. Rafe looks down at you and knows the night was done for. The only thing you wanted right now was laying in bed with him holding you close.

"Wanna go home?" he asked and the second you nodded he said quick goodbyes to his friends, leading you outside to his truck.

He helps you in and closes the door for you, rushing to get into the driver's side, starting the car, and turning onto the road. He places his hand on your thigh, squeezing it for reassurance.

"I love you." You told him, taking his hand in yours tightly.

"I love you more, baby." he flashed you a smile, kissing the back of your hand and focusing back on the road.

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Taglist

For everything:

@lokigirlszendaya @buckymydarlingangel @superlegend216

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe cameron angst #obx x reader #obx fanfiction #obx fic #outer banks x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x female reader

[sistertotheknowitall]

Some Guy Bingo

Masterpost.

Nearly three months into (what Jason called) The Haunting, the siblings kinda started a game. (“Either we're haunting him or he's haunting us, I haven't decided yet." "Considering he's the one appearing randomly, I'd say he's haunting us.")

Technically Tim had started it with, “five bucks says Danny went to class today.” (Gotham university was having an out break of fear toxin curtesy of Dr. Crane.) However, it was Jason who kicked it off with, “ten if he says something about actual scarecrows.”

Dick had snorted and said, “fifteen if it’s a personal experience about a farm.”

“I call bingo if he makes a vague statement on agriculture.” So it was actually Steph who started it.

“Bingo? We were placing bets.”

“Unlike you Hood, some people don’t get adopted by money.”

“As if Bruce doesn’t give you an allowance.”

(“As if he didn’t offer to adopt you,” Tim tacked on.)

It became a running joke where they started calling out "bingo if -" whenever they had to go out on a call. The joke had later formed into a running game when Danny had told Cass, “fighting gods is a pass-time, it is humanity that the real fight is against.” (He had trip over a curb and laid on the ground for several minutes before she asked if he was okay.) She said it wasn’t the most concerning thing he said to her and Steph chimed in claiming, “on a scale of one to ten that statement rates at a three.”

Jason had asked why Cass and Steph always got the weird ambiguous statements and he got cryptic shit about his “soul”.

(Damian had pointed out that at least he wasn’t being constantly referred to as a baby.)

I Call Bingo, which they still played whenever a situation required more than one of them, became “on a scale”

Dick was sure that “having given up on optimism, I find your enthusiasm to be overly bright” should be ranked higher then “I don’t like two-stepping but I’m from the mid-west, so do you know how to line dance?” (Danny and Duke had gotten into an awkward side step where they kept blocking each other.) Damian said the wording seemed passive-aggressive but the tone was too positive to be rude so he gave it a three. Jason said it sounded like a bad pick up line and gave it a two.

They often debated and defended the score they gave with Barbara chiming in over coms. She had never met Danny as Oracle but he was a regular at the public library. He was always polite and respectful and had quickly become one of her favorite patrons. Like Steph and Cass she also got odd statements but hers felt more like half-hearted jokes.

Bruce didn't always join in on their game but it wasn't surprising to see the occasional score placed in their reports. (They had a file dedicated to Danny's remarks. Originally it was to keep track of what they knew about him but at this point it was just to let the others know what he said this time.) Alfred was roped into it even if he didn't really participate unless asked. ("Hey Alfie, what would you give 'i'm glad i don't have to fight my food to eat it but if Batburger keeps giving me the wrong thing I'm summoning Lunch Lady.' Cause Tim says two but I think it's a five.") (He gave it a four.)

Post 4

#I just realized that i'd been forgetting Barbara and that is unacceptable #i hope this is coherent #danny is just some guy #the batfam are mostly use to him #batfamily #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp crossover #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton #danny phantom

[faebriel]

and finally. mosquito on the wall is the most underrated song they have. one of the Saddest wombats songs + the best breakup song they have. highlight of the B sides i can't believe it's not on a ""main"" album. anyway

#NO SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK NO LIFELESS KISSES IN MY CAR NO AWKWARD CHATS TO FAMILY NO TYPE A PERSONALITIES NO TWO SAME ALBUMS ON REPEAT EN #DLESSLY ROLLING IN THE DEEP SPENDING EACH FRIDAY NIGHT AT HOME I HAVE MORE FUN WHEN I'M ALONEEEEE (breaks down into sobbing)

[gremlingottoosilly]

König x Ballet dancer!Reader?

You passed through years of training. Being accepted into one of the famous ballet schools of Vienna was nothing to snooze about - and you were on track to become yet another nameless swan in the second row. With a shelve life of just about 10 years, your life was set to be a parade of mediocrity from the start. Without a rich sponsor to give you connections and without any of your professors looking at you twice, you exited college with a stable job in the background. Sometimes, accepting scraps being thrown at the main dancers, you knew your place - you ached for dance and beauty, and you got it. This is why a bouquet of blood-red roses sitting heavily in your hands still feels like a dream. The man in front of you is not a normal opera guest. His suit is tailored - not for the sake of showing off the price, but because this man is simply too huge for anything made in-store, no matter how expensive the store is. His suit is tailored professionally and yet, he still looks uncomfortable. A mountain of a man confined into the prison of tight fabric - you tilts your head to the side, wondering what is he doing here. He is wearing a black mask, which is normal for many patrons - especially the older ones, still afraid to die after what happened just a few years ago. You can only see his eyes and you're getting lost in the cold. It reminds you of a mountain snow. Of the white fabric of your dress - and suddenly, you almost feel like breaking your perfect posture. You don't look into the viewer's seats while you're dancing, but you can't shake the feeling that you recognize this heavy stare from somewhere. He was following your every movement while you were on the stage, not caring for the beauty of the front dancer and the elegant movements of your peers. You're painfully average in everything - but his attention never fails to get on you. He is giving you gruff, cut-out compliments. Something about your legs, your hips. Something dirty about the way you look in that tight tutu, and you almost gather the strength to slap him, but then he flashes his credit card, and it feels like a ticket out of mediocrity. Always the second last in the deep row, you never had any fans looking at you like this. With this amount of longing, of depravity. You start getting better roles after he started to show up. You're not sure why and how - he has money, that's for certain, but he definitely doesn't seem like the type to have connections in the industry. If you had to guess, you would see him as working in the military - but no one from Austrian army would have as much influence, not in your country. If you had to guess, this guy is dangerous, and you're almost terrified to see the dark red flash of flowers every time you exit backstage and see him. But, oh, he presses you against the walls and kisses you. But, oh, he can lift you up so easily and force you to grind on his knee in search for pleasure - you have stamina, all dancers have it, and he knows he can go for much longer than with a regular girl. Your affection is bought with compliments and euro bills stuck in your leotard like you're a cheap whore, but you almost feel like a French girl while he is holding you like this. He asks you about retirement. Tells you he would build you a dance studio in his house - something big, with space and perfect light. Give you all the attention you need. You almost feel yourself getting lost in his awkwardness. Little did you know he wasn't really asking.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader

[eroselless]

I LIKE THE WAY YOU KISS ME 

Summary: You and Lando need to talk after what transpired on the car ride to the hotel. What will you both decide? [2.5k]

[lando norris x reader ]

MASTERLIST | Part 1 - LAY UR HANDS ON ME

Warnings: 18+ for explicit language and smut, unprotected sex, oral, missionary

Note: Thank you all so much for the love, support and patience! I wanted it to be spicy but also a little soft, I hope it comes off that way. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it <3 I hope it's alright that I tagged everyone who commented on part 1! Happy reading, love you all!

The tension in the air is palpable. It’s fog clinging to the morning air, waiting to dissipate. It’s a sink threatening to overflow, every passing moment teetering closer to the edge of chaos. It’s a champagne bottle, waiting for just the right push to pop. Lando stands with his back to the hotel door as you stand in front of your bed, fidgeting with your fingers. The silence in the elevator and the walk to the room is almost frightening. The adrenaline from the car ride had slowly faded as you stood, frozen in place. Your palms feel sweaty, your heart pounding in your chest. You both stand in the limbo of uncertainty’s clutch. 

“What if we just –”

“We can pret –”

Your words collide in the air, an awkward and strained laugh escaping the both of you. Doubt begins to gnaw at your mind, maybe he’s regretting it? You wonder. Maybe he was in need of some release and you happened to give it to him. 

“If you want,” you begin tentatively, voice barely above a whisper. “We can pretend this never happened.” 

Lando takes in a sharp breath, nodding. He shifts from foot to foot, bottom lip curled between his teeth as he nervously bites into it. He blinks, eyes watering. His chest begins to tighten up and he feels like he could break down then and there. Maybe in the spur of the moment, his lapse of judgment was the final straw that broke the camel's back and you’re eager to forget about the eventful ride over.  

“Is that what you want?” he asks, sitting down on his bed. His voice is quiet, barely audible as he twists his fingers in his hands. He can’t bring himself to meet your eyes and stares down at your shoes. 

A heavy silence envelops the room, and for a moment, the world seems to hold its breath, anticipation building in the man who sits before you. Blinking the tears that had snuck into your eyes, you shake your head. Your chest feels heavy as you answer him.

“No.”

The single word cuts through the air like a knife and hands there for a second. Time stands still for a moment as Lando’s head whips up to look at you. Time crashes down over you as he collides with you.

You weren’t quite sure of what you expected from your first kiss with Lando yet as his lips brushed with yours you couldn’t help but be struck by how perfect his lips felt on yours. His hands are cradling your cheeks, fingers pressing lightly into your skin as if he’s scared he’ll shatter you like fine porcelain. There is a delicate urgency in how his lips dance over yours. Years upon years of longing rising to the surface of your skin. His tongue slips past your lips, he can taste the remnants of the wine from earlier, a mixture of desire and indulgence. 

His hands move with a purpose, one gently placed at the joint of your jaw, a possessive gesture that sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins. The other rests firmly on the small of your back, pushing you closer with a quiet promise of ecstasy to come. He nudges your chin up with his hand, moving slowly and carefully. 

He pulls away, eyes droopy and half-lidded with desire. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly. You’re both heaving as you stand in the middle of the room, taking a moment to admire one another. The youthfulness and beauty of his face are so much more evident up close. It's nothing short of captivating. You had always thought he was handsome but now you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. You can count the freckles scattered on his sun-kissed skin, the speckles of colour in his eyes are like shards of glass and his long lashes frame them beautifully. 

His hands fall from your face, sliding down and behind your shoulders. “Turn around,” he says. You comply, moving to face the other way. His hands move over the expanse of your back and you get a flashback to the moment you sat in his lap, just under 15 minutes ago.  His breath is fanning on your back, a familiar chill surging through your body again. 

His fingers land on the zipper of your dress, tugging on it as he asks for your permission to take it off. You nod, collecting your hair to one side. He pulls the zip down, fingers dragging lightly over the increasingly exposed skin. He presses his mouth tenderly to your spine, pulling a shaky breath from your lips. He pushes the straps of your dress off your shoulders, sending the fabric to the floor. It leaves you standing in your underwear, having foregone a bra. You turn around to face him, eyes scanning his face once again.

His lips find their way to your jaw, nipping lightly at it. You push his blazer from his shoulders, moving to unbutton his crisp white shirt. 

He shoves you lightly but with enough force to send you falling back onto the bed. He can’t help but admire you as you lay there. Your hair is out in a halo around your head and you're propping yourself up on your elbows, eyes wide as you gaze up at him.

He pulls his trousers off and you can see the shape of his cock through his boxers. Lowering himself on top of you, he litters kisses over your chest, lips coming to wrap around a pebbled nipple. You arch your back slightly at the feeling of his lips over the sensitive bud. Your hand goes to his hair, threading through it as he pushes his face further into the plushness of your tit. His other hand is snaking down your body, snapping the waistband of your underwear. 

Your breath hitches in your throat as he moves down, sitting back on his knees. He pulls a leg up over his shoulder, beginning to trail kisses from your ankle to your knee. Your skin is soft and warm, goosebumps starting to bloom over it. 

You’re nervous as he makes his way up your thigh, teeth teasingly dipping into the soft skin. You let out a gasp as he does so, moving his lips to your other leg. In an instant, he’s back at the top of your leg, at the junction where they meet. He kisses the damp fabric of your underwear, eyes peering up at you. 

“Can I take these off?” He asks innocently. You hesitate, heart threatening to pop out of your chest. You nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek. His fingers hook around your underwear, pulling them down swiftly. Your knees come together on instinct.

He lets out a small chuckle, moving onto the floor in front of the bed. He pulls you to the edge by the crook of your knees, pressing a kiss to each one. 

“I want a taste.” He hums, only causing your heart to beat faster. His hands move up to take hold of your hips, pressing his cheek to your knees as if to ask are you ready? He waits until you’ve given him a small yet decisive yes before gently pulling your legs open. He goes straight to your sex, pressing his lips to your folds before spreading them open, making a v with his fingers. He teases you, letting out a single soft puff. His tongue darts out, dragging over the sensitive flesh but not over the part where you need him most. This causes your hips to buck up, aching for more of his touch. He continues, now plunging his tongue inside you.

“Fuck –” you moan out, body beginning to tremble with need as he shoves his face even closer. Your fingers pull harshly at his hair as he flicks his tongue expertly at your hole, his groan sending vibrations through your body. His fingers grip tight at your hips, grounding you in place. He sends a red-hot feeling through you as he fucks the muscle into you steadily. It pokes into a spongy, sensitive spot within you. He pulls away, blowing gently at the wet skin. 

“God, baby. You taste so fucking good.” 

He slips a finger in, thumb moving in careful circles over your clit, eliciting more moans from you. A smile is playing on his lips, as you feel yourself teetering towards the edge, a coil tightening in your gut. You cry out, a wave of pleasure washing over you. Your hips are bucking and your legs try to close around his head.

He doesn’t stop licking and sucking at you, easing you down from your orgasm. Your chest heaves and you shake breathlessly. He pulls away, his face glistening with your juices. His eyes sparkle with lust as he presses his lips one more time to the skin of your thigh. It’s a look you’d only imagined in your mind. 

He stands over you, admiring how you look with your cheeks flushed and a light layer of sweat on your skin. Your chest is rising up and down quickly as you come down from your high. You’re staring up at him, eyes hazy and lips parted. You look ethereal, a piece of art hanging in a museum, the image of perfection. 

Regaining your breath, your hands work on Lando’s boxers, pulling them down and letting his cock spring free. It taps lightly at his stomach, a bead of pre-cum on the red angry tip. You wrap a hand around it, thumb going to run over the crease of the head. Lando hisses and shakes his head at you begin to jerk your hand. His voice is strained as he tells you no.

“Not tonight,” he says, tongue heavy in his mouth. “Just need to be inside you.”

You nod, moving up the bed, into its centre. He crawls over you, showering your body with kisses as he does so. A kiss right over your pubic bone, one on your ribcage and the last one over the corner of your mouth. 

He stares into your eyes as he pushes in, bottom lip trapped between his teeth to keep him quiet. He fills you in a single movement, one powerful thrust. Your breath hitches as he does so, lips forming a tight o. You can feel his cock hit you just at the right spot, the pleasure making your eyes roll back. The squeeze of your cunt around his cock was better than Lando could have imagined. 

He’s pushing your knees up and wrapping your legs around his waist as he starts a slow grind. He rolls into you, pushing deeper and deeper as he goes. He feels so good, it’s almost unbearable. You’re completely at his mercy, his touch spreading fires in you, wherever it goes. 

You're writhing beneath him as he kisses you. His tongue is darting into your mouth, stealing your breath away. 

“You’re so pretty like this, baby” he says over the sound of himself sliding in and out of you with ease. The sound is slick and wet, it’s filthy yet it only makes you fall deeper into pleasure’s embrace. Your body molds perfectly into him and you find yourself wondering how you’d never noticed that before. All those times when he held you, when you held him. There were so many signs and you were both oblivious to them. 

He pushes down on your lower tummy and it presses something deeper within you. It pulls a whine from your lips as your hands find purchase on Lando’s shoulder, pulling him down so you’re almost chest to chest. 

“You’re doing so good for me” he mumbles, lips against the shell of your ear. You clench around him, the words only spurring you on. He continues to fuck you into the mattress, stroking your walls just right. 

“Lan, I –” you begin to say. The buildup is getting too much as you feel yourself swing closer to your climax. Lando can feel it too. The spasming of your body, the slight arch of your back. The air is knocked out of your chest as the moment hits, pleasure crashing over you. His name falls from your lips like a mantra and he only pushes faster. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you now. He thrusts into you one last time before he tips over the edge, losing himself then and there. 

You feel him let out a gasp as he collapses over you in a sweaty mess. His body is heavy laying on top of yours but it isn’t uncomfortable.  His skin is sticky and his breath fans over your neck. You’re both breathing heavily as the energy in the room begins to diminish. Your hand goes to thread through his unruly curls as he peppers light kisses to the column of your throat. 

He gets up after a few minutes, telling you to sit still as he does. He returns with a towel, gently cleaning up the mess you’ve made together. He tosses it away and crawls back towards you, pulling the cover over the top of your bodies. 

He stills against you, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, mind only filled with thoughts of you. He can only really think of how flawlessly you fit together. Or the feeling of how delicious you feel pressed up against him. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long to make a move,” he says, peering up at you. You smile, shaking your head. “And I’m sorry for not saying anything sooner.” 

You both carry on there for a second, his cheek now pressed to your chest. His eyes have begun to flutter close as the gentle sound of your breathing slowly lulls him to sleep. His fingers are softly tracing circles on your ribcage where he holds you. There are no words exchanged between the two of you but there’s so much said in the silence as you cling to each other. 

“Lan..” you whisper, voice soft. He hummed in response, squeezing you. You nibbled your lip nervously as the words waited in your mouth.

“I love you.” his fingers stop in their tracks. He let out a gentle, barely audible chuckle. You’re unsure of what his reaction is.  He rises to his elbows and bounces slightly on the mattress, pressing a kiss to your stomach. 

“Say it again,” he whispers, voice husky. His fingers are now prodding at your side and you let out bouts of laughter as he does.

“I love you.” he nips at the soft skin of your neck, evoking a laugh out of you. His energy seems renewed as his lips continue their dance over your skin and he gradually makes his way up to your face.

“I love you too,” he says, his smile wide, pulling you on top of him. “And I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

@noneofyourfbusinessworld

@shellybee456

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#lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris

[rafeandonlyrafe]

pink roses

words: 3.1k

warnings: 18+ only!!, smut, female receiving oral, CHEATING!, ex!rafe, mentions of violence and drinking, its valentines day during the second part of the fic :)

you moved on. thats what you tell everyone. absolutely over rafe, even got a new boyfriend. 

you definitely don’t think of your ex every time you kiss him or hold his hand. definitely don’t think of rafe when your new man is between your legs.

“hey baby.” darren says, giving you a tight hug after you open the door, not cradling your body against his like rafe used to.

“hi.” you smile, letting him into your house. “just give me like five minutes to touch up my makeup then we can head up.” “okay.” darren nods. you frown as you walk up the stairs, knowing its not the response rafe would have given you. he would have said that you already look perfect, not needing to touch anything up (though you would absolutely still reapply blush and swipe on some more lipgloss).

you don’t even feel like going to a party tonight, only going because darren has some friends that he wants you to meet. truthfully, you know you’re using darren. you know that he’s just a fling to get over rafe, and you feel guilty when he clearly values you and wants to show you off.

“ready!” you call as your heels click down the stairs.

“perfect.” darren smiles, placing his hand on the small of your back as he guides you out to his car, having to tug your dress down to not reveal yourself as you lower into the passenger side of his sedan.

“where is this party at anyways?” you ask, inspecting your fingernails, freshly painted in a lightly shimmery pink.

“topper thorton.” darren says. he must see your face go pale. “why, do you know him?”

“uh, yeah.” you pick at a nonexistent thread on your skirt. “he's my exes friend. you know, rafe. the one everyone warned you about.”

you chose to rebound with darren because he had just moved to town, wouldn't be scared into silence from rafes reputation alone.

“ah, damn.” darren says, but doesn't ask if you still want to attend. you know you're going to see rafe, and you're honestly not sure if you can see him touching other girls.

you are quiet until you get to the party, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as darren leads you inside, the music bounding out of the speakers, so loud it almost shakes the house.

“y/n!” toppers eyes are wide when he spots you. “didn't expect to see you here.”

“yeah…” you suddenly feel awkward and insecure in your dress, tugging the hem lower.

“rafe is um… rafe is on the patio. i would avoid him if i were you. he's… he's not the same since the breakup.” topper nods to you before walking away. 

“you said this rafe guy broke up with you, right?” darren asks.

“yeah.” you nod, feeling like you can't form any other word.

“then why does he care? who cares if he sees you? im not letting some random guy stop me from going where i want with my girlfriend, come on.” darren grabs your hand, tugging you towards the back of the house.

“darren, no!” you shout, but he's moving too quickly, the music too loud for him to hear you yell, and before you can grind your feet to a halt, you're out on the patio. your eyes flicker around, trying to pick the familiar face out of the crowd when you suddenly see rafe, his eyes already bouring into you.

“come on, let's dance baby!” darren says, your gaze fixed on rafe as darren moves behind you, grinding into your bum. you can't move, stuck in the power of his blue eyes.

“do you not like this song?” darren asks, having to shout into your ear as someone turns the music up impossibly louder.

“i told you, my ex.” you say, line of sight being broken by dancing bodies, finally allowing you to take a deep breath and move, turning to face darren.

“what? you not over him or something?” darren asks, his expression suddenly turning a mix of anger and disappointment.

“no!” you echo what you tell everyone. “no, it's just the first time ive seen him since the break up. it's just… weird.”

“okay.” darren says, but you can tell by his tone that he's going to bring it up later, and it's not really the end of the conversation, just for now.

“shit, there's my boys!” darren's expression quickly changes. you watch as he daps up two guys, who he then introduces to you, but you don't even hear their names, barely able to nod and smile, putting on a pretty face while your mind is other where. you know that's all you're truly there for anyways, a nice grin and tight dress for darren to flaunt.

he leads you back inside and away from the loud speakers so he can sit and chat with his friends. your eyes continually scan the room and the entryways, waiting to see those blue eyes and sandy blond hair.

“darren, baby, im gonna go use the bathroom.” you tell him as he takes a sip of his beer. you just need to move, feeling like a sitting duck just waiting for a predator to strike.

“alright.” darren literally waves you off, too enticed by the conversation his friend, who you thinks name is matt, or maybe mark. miles? 

you stand up, having memorized the layout of toppers house from parties with rafe. you know the most private bathroom is upstairs and inside of one of the tucked away guest room, a guest room rafe often took you to. 

you push past people to get to the stairs, dodging couples making out on the steps as you make your way up. you sigh when you finally get the guest bedroom door closed behind you, glad to be alone and somewhere somewhat quiet compared to the sensory overload of the rest of the house. 

you turn towards the room, ready to head towards the bathroom door when you see a slight movement in the shadow. you reach behind you for the light switch, feeling across the wall, sure that your eyes are just playing tricks on you, but as the ceiling light illuminates the room, you come face to face with the one man you didn't want to see.

“rafe, i-” you cut yourself off. you don't know what to say, have no excuse. a small part of you knows you said you had to use the bathroom just to get back into this room, look at the bed that rafe took you on so many times.

“he's not as tall as me.” rafe says. “you hate guys with that color hair.”

you urge your hand to reach for the doorknob and flee, but rafes deep voice keeps you captive.

“i would never ignore you like he does in favor of stupid fucking friends.” damn, so rafe was watching, and you couldnt even tell, probably too far in your own head.

“and im sure he doesn't fuck you like i do.” rafe steps towards you, having to round the bed from where he was leaning against the corner of the wall. “tell me y/n… does he make you cum as much as i do?”

“did.” you manage to bite out. “in case you forgot, you broke up with me. not the other way around.”

“i didn't expect you to settle for such trash.” rafe is now only feet away. he smirks as his eyes glide down your body and tight dress before landing back on your face. “you look stressed, baby. he's not giving it as good as me at all.”

rafe sighs like he truly cares about the kind of service you're getting in the bedroom.

“he's fine.” you argue back, the best defense you can manage. rafe was always able to tell when you were lying.

“so if i offer to eat you out right now, you'd say no? don't want my tongue, baby?”

“this isn’t fair, rafe.” you say bluntly. “you can’t break up with me only to tease me like this.” “get on the bed, underwear off.” rafe simply commands. your body moves before your mind does, still trained to his instructions. and once your underwear is on the floor, you figure theres no point in stopping now.

you do think briefly to darren, chatting innocently away with his friends downstairs, not a clue that your ex is about to go down on you, but when rafe lays between your thighs, your thoughts couldn’t be farther from darren.

“the most gorgeous pussy i’ve ever seen.” rafe says, pushing your dress further up your body. “missed her so much.”

rafe leans forward, tongue instantly zeroing in on your clit, switching between rubbing with the tip of his tongue and lapping over it in broad strokes.

“oh fuck!” you moan out, head pressing back into the pillow, sure to ruin your perfect hair.

“little bit louder and your new boyfriend might hear you.” rafe smirks before letting his tongue explore your cunt, even slurping at your juices.

“shut up, you’re so fucking unfair.” you groan, but reach down to grip his hair and push his face further into your pussy.

rafe shows you just how skilled he is with his mouth. there really is no comparison to darren, who you swear things your left lip is your clit.

rafe focuses in on your entrance, tongue sweeping in tighter and tighter circles until it juts forward into your hole, taking a moment to appreciate being back inside your tight heat before he begins to thrust his tongue, his thumb moving to rub your clit.

“tell me i’m better.” rafe says, barely pulling away to speak the words. “no.” you shake your head. you shouldn’t give rafe the satisfaction of admitting it, as if your moans aren’t evident enough.

“tell me or i’ll stop right now. won’t make you cum.” 

“fine.” you close your eyes, as if somehow not seeing rafe makes it less like you’re cheating. “you’re better than him. just, please.” 

you’re not above begging. you wish you could say that you were better than that, better than getting into bed with your ex the first time you see him.

“there’s my good girl.” rafe purrs out in his oh so seductive voice. he resumes movement of his thumb, rubbing you just the way you like, knowing it brings you to the edge quickly as his tongue continues to thrust inside of you.

“oh, oh my god! rafe!” you shout his name as his thumb quickens until it’s all too much, a flood of wetness gushing out as your back arches off the bed, hands gripping at the duvet. rafe continues his movements as your high works its way through your body until the snap of sensitivity hits and you have to shove his hand away.

you blink your eyes open, vision slightly blurry as you look down at rafe between your legs, face going pale when you realize that you didn’t just cum, but squirted, leaving rafes face dripping.

“holy shit, it really has been a long time since you came if you’re squirting like that.” rafe chuckles, wiping his chin with the back of his hand, only for his tongue to dart out and lick the juices off his skin.

“you-you-” realization comes flooding back of what you just did. you may know that you’re using darren, but you never intended it to go as far as to cheat on him.

“i only did what you wanted me too. even if you couldn’t admit it to yourself.” rafe moves up to a kneeling position, his cock clearly straining against his pants. “want me to fuck you now baby? i know you’ve missed this big dick.”

“no!” you snap your thighs together, mind much clearer now that you’ve gotten your orgasm. “no, i-i have a boyfriend!”

“go downstairs and break up with him and then come back up here and let me hit.” rafe says, tapping your hip to get you moving. 

“i am going downstairs.” you say, swinging your legs off the bed. “but it’s because this was a mistake.” you grab your underwear off the floor and put them back on before attempting to readjust your dress and hair to acceptable levels, well aware that darren must be wondering where you are by now, having been gone for so long.

“baby-” rafe tries to stop you, but you’re already out the door. 

--

“oh baby, this is so sweet!” you plaster on a fake smile. you were easily able to explain to darren what happened at the party a few weeks ago. you got caught up talking with some old friends and the time slipped away from you. not completely a lie.

you’ve avoided being out in public at all for fear of seeing rafe. you’ve even manage to banish most thoughts of him. most… except for when he forces his way back into your mind when your fingers are in between your legs, finishing yourself off after darren had gone to sleep next to you.

“a beautiful red rose for my valentine.” darren gives you a kiss on the cheek as you smile at the rose. it’s a nice gesture, it is valentines day after all and he is your boyfriend, but you just don’t feel in the spirit of the holiday, mostly because you aren’t in love and are just waiting for the right moment to break up.

you pull out your phone, opening up your instagram and snapping a photo of you holding the red rose, quickly uploading it to your story.

“what else do you have planned for today?” you ask darren, but his face quickly grows pale and you realize he doesn’t have anything else planned, thinking a singular red rose was all he needed to please you.

“we could go to the park later.” he recovers quickly. “have a nice picnic.”

“okay, sounds good.” you nod. “i’m gonna go put this in water.”

you flee quickly to the kitchen, leaving your boyfriend sat in your living room. your parents are rarely home, spending all of their time traveling when your dad isn’t working out business deals, and it feels like darren has practically moved in since they’re rarely home, and it’s only causing a bigger divide in your relationship.

you get the rose put in a vase with some fresh water when your phone vibrates from your pocket. you grab it out, eyes widening when you see that rafe has replied to your story.

doesn’t he know you like pink roses?

the doorbell rings, making you drop your phone with a loud clatter onto the countertop.

“i’ll get it!” darren calls out before you can process the sound, suddenly rushing after him as he opens the door to reveal rafe standing on your doorstep, not just one pink rose but an entire armful of them, the largest and most beautiful bouquet you’ve ever seen.

“who the fuck are you?” darren asks, but rafe looks right past him to where you’re stuck frozen in the foyer.

“i’m giving y/n the valentines day flowers that she deserves.” rafe pushes past darren with ease, transferring the large bouquet into your arms.

“and you’re getting the fuck out.” rafe turns to darren, now blocking him from moving back into the house.

“fuck if i am.” darren laughs. “and she’s my girlfriend.”

“she’s only your girlfriend because i broke up with her knowing she was too good for me and needed to find someone better, but instead she settled for you.” rafe turns his head to look at you, his voice softening. “it’s okay, sweetheart. i don’t blame you.” 

“lets let y/n decide.” darren says, rightly deciding not to fight rafe, being smart for once in his life knowing rafe would easily annihilate him, but wrongly thinking that you would choose him.

“get out.” you say, eyes moving to darren. “get out, darren. i don’t even like red roses.”

“baby-” darren begins to argue, but then rafe surges forward, shoving him out of the door before slamming it in his face.

rafe takes a deep breath before turning to you, looking so small with the roses drowning in your arms.

“i’ve missed you.” rafe moves towards you, his hands cradling your face and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “i’m sorry for breaking up with you, princess. thought you could do better.”

“i’m just glad you’re back.” you lean forward, rafe quickly understanding that you’re asking for more kisses as his lips glide over yours, familiar and warm.

“let me carry these for you.” rafe scoops the bouquet out of your arms. “and then you can go ahead and get ready for all the things i have planned for today while i gather your exes shit and make sure he knows to never come back here again.” you giggle and follow rafe, knowing you should feel bad for dragging darren into the mess that is rafe, but you’re just happy that he served as a distraction before rafe came back.

rafe walks up to your room, glad to be back in your house. he realized seeing you with a new guy how much of a mistake he made and knew it had to be corrected.

rafe sets the roses on the bench at the base of your bed before frowning at the bed itself, your side clearly neatly made while the side that used to belong to darren is a mess still, showing a complete disrespect for how you like to keep your belongings. 

“i’m trying to decide between fucking you on the sheets he used to sleep in or taking them outside and burning them.” rafe says, placing his hands on his hips.

“maybe…” you wrap your arm around rafes waist as you bury your head into his back. “we add buying new bedding to your valentines day plans?”

rafe turns around to take you into his arms, eyes soft as he looks down at you. “you’re always gonna be my valentine from now on, baby. i love you.”

you shift your weight to your toes as you lean up to kiss rafe, his mouth slowly moving over yours as you make out, feeling him swell against your lower stomach.

“i don’t think i can wait until after we buy new bedding, baby.” rafe groans.

“well… i do need to take a shower before we go.” you smirk, walking backwards towards your attached bathroom, slowly unbuttoning your pajama shirt.

“and you know how much i love to conserve water.” rafe chuckles, following you as your clothes hit the floor.

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[worldsover]

In Motion

~3.4k words, massage, gym sex, your personal training client!Jisoo

(for @sooyadelicacies, a quick bfh)

Jisoo flows through various yoga poses with grace and strength, her toned body clad in form-fitting pants. Despite the late hour, you made an exception for Jisoo tonight; she's worth it. As she holds a challenging lunge, her thighs quivering from the effort, you admire her determination—one of the reasons why you cleared your schedule for this session. Besides, it's technically Saturday now, so staying up to watch her is justifiable since you'd be working at home anyway. It definitely has nothing to do with wanting to appreciate the curve of her hips, or the arch of her back, or the way her ponytail sways as she moves into different positions, revealing the elegant line of her neck. Definitely not. Who would stay up this late just to watch someone sweat? Or to admire the sight of them in a sports bra, revealing their cleavage? Certainly not you.

"I saw that you landed that yoga sponsorship. It suits you perfectly," you comment, catching a whiff of her jasmine-scented shampoo as she walks by for weighted squats. Your eyes linger on her backside before you correct her form.

A thin layer of sweat glistens on Jisoo's forehead after finishing a set. "Thank you!" she pants, her chest rising and falling with exertion. "I never thought I'd be working out this late." Her laughter fills the room and warms your heart.

The distant rumble of a sports car breaks your focus. Living just steps away from Elysium Fitness, these interruptions are common in such an expensive neighborhood. "Don't worry about him. Just showing off," you reassure Jisoo with a smile, and she chuckles in response.

As the night wears on, the bright white lights are replaced with warmer, softer lamps that are easier on the eyes. But the harsh lights of the city at night still seep through, casting a neon glow over everything. Your breathing matches the thuds of feet and weights hitting the floor as you both lie on mats for core work. You guide Jisoo through planks and leg raises until you're both exhausted. With each movement, her top rides up and exposes more of her toned abs, testing your self-control. You've worked with plenty of beautiful actresses and models with stunning bodies, but there's something about Jisoo that sets her apart.

During a break to sip water, Jisoo offers you a taste of her strawberry-flavored drink. The sweetness catches you off guard and elicits another giggle from her. Her laughter quickens your pulse in a way no workout ever could.

"Rough day on set?" you ask.

She lets out a sigh. Sitting on the floor, she leans back and supports herself with her arms behind her. Her chest rises and falls, covered in sweat. "Not just work," she responds. "I broke up with him."

Your eyes widen in surprise. "Really? Isn't he still your co-star?"

"Yep." She pops her lips, and you nod sympathetically at the awkwardness of the situation.

As you help her up after a strenuous set, your hands brush against her stomach and back. At that moment, your eyes meet hers in an intense gaze as she leans into you for support. Company policy strictly forbids personal involvement with clients, but denying Jisoo is impossible. The city lights seem to dance across her glistening skin, mixing with the scent of her perfume.

"I'm here whenever you want to talk," you offer, gently massaging the tension from her shoulders as she relaxes into your touch. "You know I'm ready to help with whatever I can."

She takes a deep breath before responding. "I know. That's why I like you." Your heart skips a beat at her words, and time seems to stand still as the sounds of your exertion fade away.

You try not to gulp. "You know, I actually have my massage license. So if you need me to work out anything else... promise I won't charge extra."

Jisoo stays still for a moment, then nods. "I think I like the sound of that."

Together, the two of you walk towards the massage rooms. The gym is quiet and empty at this late hour, a stark contrast to its usual bustling energy during peak hours. As you enter, the sounds of grunting and heavy breathing are replaced by soft jazz music playing from the speakers. You close and lock the door behind you for privacy, even though it's unlikely that anyone will disturb you in this peaceful haven.

But then you remember and go back to lock the door. "Hey, if you want to change in the locker room—"

"Keep it locked."

The air is thick with tension as you wait for her to undress, every part of your body buzzing with anticipation. She begins by removing her shoes, then slowly pulls down her pants, revealing long and toned legs. It feels like she's putting on a show for you, yet she still blushes and you look away out of respect. Her sports bra is the last thing to come off; you bite your cheek to avoid staring as she hands it over without meeting your gaze. Now wearing only a pair of panties, Jisoo lays face down on the table with a heavy sigh.

You start massaging her shoulders, feeling the gentle give of the springs beneath her weight. Your hands continue to move lower until they reach the small of her back where you pause for a moment, taking in a deep breath. You catch a whiff of sweat mixed with jasmine from her shampoo and a hint of strawberries from her flavored water. Her skin glistens with perspiration and you quickly grab some massage oil from the cupboard, generously pouring it onto your hands before returning to her. The shine of her fair skin, now glimmering with oil and muscle definition, has your breath catching in your throat. You continue kneading, now using oil to glide your hands all over her back, shoulders, neck—and you think you can hear her moaning softly, like a contented purr.

She turns over onto her back, exposing even more of herself to you. At first, she covers her breasts with one arm and avoids your gaze. But then she relaxes and lets her arms rest by her sides. Her breasts are small but perky and enticing. Her nipples are firm. You squirt out some more oil, slowly gliding it up and down her arms and legs until they shine in the warm dim light.

Jisoo lets out a soft moan as your skilled hands work their way deeper, releasing any tension or stress she may have had. It's almost like a mockery to her, the way you only touch her limbs. Your gaze wanders over her body, tracing curves that you've only ever imagined caressing before. She tilts her back slightly, seemingly inviting you to explore her chest. But you resist, choosing instead to focus on her shoulders, collarbones, and sides—purposely teasing her with your careful touches. You maintain the facade of a professional masseur, suppressing your desires for now.

She turns back onto her stomach and you can't help but notice how her beautiful butt jiggles slightly as she settles in again.

Once more, you start from her shoulders and work your way down her back. This time, she shudders as you continue massaging downwards, stopping just above the top of her thighs. You lean forward to whisper in her ear, "Would it be okay if I moved a little lower?" Your voice is husky with nervousness and desire as your fingertips brush against the smooth skin above where her panties sit.

She nods slowly, biting her lip nervously as she exhales heavily through clenched teeth. As your hands knead at her thighs, she moans louder this time. "C-can you take off my panties? They're...starting to feel uncomfortable," she whispers. Like she's too embarrassed to admit it aloud.

"Of course," you say, and your finger hooks into the waistband. Lowering, carefully, you peel her panties down her legs, and watch in awe: her pussy is soaked. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"Mhm," she moans, whiny. "Just help me relax, please."

Without fabric in the way, you can really sink your digits into her backside properly. You can feel every ridge of her spine, every indent of muscle. You start to massage her glutes, circling and kneading them until you find that perfect spot. Her hips buck up involuntarily into your hands, begging for more as you bring relief to her tense body. You can't deny yourself anymore; your hands slowly creep towards her butt cheeks and then lower still. As you work on her legs, your fingers somehow find their way between them, teasing her inner thighs, earning another moan. The scent of her arousal fills the room, and it's almost too much for you. But you keep going, kneading, caressing, rubbing away all that pent-up tension. Your heart pounds in your chest as your thumb brushes against her clit, earning a tiny gasp from her lips. She's wet and hot to the touch.

"How's that?" you ask quietly.

"Good," she breathes out between ragged breaths. "So good... keep going."

That single brush becomes more purposeful, strokes of your fingers along her folds. She grips the edge of the table tightly, trembling under your touch like it's somewhere between pain and pleasure, but listen to her whimpering—it's all pleasure, and any pain is at your restraint.

"Please. More."

You nod, feeling your heart race in your chest. Your fingers find their way to her core and gently part her folds as Jisoo sighs heavily. Her labia is swollen and wet, begging for attention, but you take your time, teasing them with the tip of your index finger before plunging inside her. She cries out softly, arching her back into the table. Your middle finger joins the first one inside her, stretching her tightness with a gentle pressure that she welcomes eagerly. Her mouth falls open in a silent 'O' shape and she grinds against your hand, seeking more. You smile against her back as you watch your fingers disappear into her hot, tight heat and begin to move them in and out in slow, steady strokes. Her pussy clenches around them, milking your fingers as you continue massaging her thighs and glutes. You can't help but taste a droplet of sweat on her skin and lick it clean, savoring the mix of saltiness and jasmine on your tongue.

Jisoo's moans grow louder now as you work your fingers deeper inside her while still massaging her outer thighs; she trembles under your touch as you apply just enough pressure to hit all the right spots at once. Your other hand reaches up to cup one of her breasts through the oil-covered skin, squeezing and rolling the nipple between your fingers while you pleasure her from below. She gasps at the mix of sensations before coming apart underneath you; warmth seeps through your fingertips as she climaxes hard behind you. Every muscle in her body tenses before relaxing with deep sighs that fill the room. Even then, you don't stop; instead of slowing down, you continue to stimulate her, not wanting this moment to end. Minutes pass before she starts to calm down, and when she does, she pants heavily with an afterglow that fills the room. Finally, you sit back on the table, looking down at your sexy client as she lies there completely naked before you. She catches her breath raggedly, her chest rising and falling rapidly. You wipe away the remaining oil with a towel, then grab some fresh ones for both of you.

"Thank you, oh, fuck, that was incredible." She makes eye contact with you. "Can you pass my clothes?"

You hand them over, your hands shaking a little as you watch her dress herself.

Suddenly, Jisoo grabs your hand. "I need to reward you for that."

"What? No, it's fine, that was plenty reward—"

But then she pulls you away, and you find yourself whisked through the empty gym once again—as an employee, you know this place like the back of your hand, but you have no idea where she's taking you.

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn't Jisoo on your lap while you were sitting on a gym bench in a squat rack. This position isn't in any of your training programs.

"Wh-why here? If there's anywhere someone could show up... I mean, there's always crazy busy bodybuilders..."

"Shh." Jisoo has a wicked grin. "Just relax."

If you had to wager a guess, it would be the mirrors—no room has more mirrors than the weight room. And you're thankful because you get to watch Jisoo work in her tight leggings and her sports bra. Though you're certain that watching is only secondary to the sensation of it all. Of Jisoo clawing at your sweatpants, rubbing over your bulge. It is a close second, however, seeing the sweat on her tits again, or the curves of her back or her butt.

Jisoo's kisses are gentle yet demanding, exploring every inch of your neck and chest as she leads the way. Her sweet panting against your skin adds to the forbidden feeling of being in a deserted gym at this hour. You slip your hands into her hair, running your fingers through the soft strands as she takes you deeper into her world with each slow, desperate lick along your muscles. You feel like you're being worshiped by her tongue, and you wonder how a goddess can worship. Her body presses against yours, grinding against your hardness through the fabric of your sweatpants while she teases you mercilessly. The warmth between her legs beckons you closer as she moans into your neck, inviting you to take what she so clearly wants to give.

Finally, she pulls back and looks up at you with a mix of desire and vulnerability in her eyes. "Please," she whispers, her voice raw with need. And before you can question it further, she pulls down your sweats and underwear together, freeing your erection from its confines. Her hands wrap around you, stroking slowly to test the waters as they glide up and down your length. You gasp at the sensation of her soft palms on your skin, feeling the calluses from hours of training mixed with her tender touch. Then she kneels down between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the bench with little effort. "You know how long I've been wanting to taste this?" Her rhetorical question has you imagining all the times in the past you've wanted to fuck her, all the times you've wanted to keep her bent over in her yoga pose and slid your cock inside.

You close your eyes as she takes you into her mouth, feeling a rush of pleasure as her warm breath tickles your skin. You grip the bar above her head tightly as she starts to move, her lips sliding up and down your length. You can't resist leaning back into her touch, enjoying the sensation of her tongue swirling around your head before taking more of you in.

Her hand gently squeezes your balls while the other plays with your perineum, sending waves of pleasure through you. The sounds of her sucking and slurping fill the room, making it difficult to keep quiet. As she gazes up at you with a smirk on her lips every few moments, you feel like the luckiest man alive.

You watch as she admires herself in the mirror while bobbing on your cock. Her eyes never leave yours as she starts to stroke herself through her leggings, the leather creaking beneath you both. "Fuck," she whispers before looking back up at you with determination. "I want you inside me."

She stands up and quickly removes her shoes, pants, and underwear. There's no teasing this time, just raw need and desire in her eyes. You wonder if this gym bench can handle the intensity she's about to bring. Gripping onto the bars of the squat rack next to you, Jisoo positions herself above you with ease. She spreads saliva over your erection with her small hands, but there is already ample wetness from her own arousal. Slowly inch by inch, she takes all of you inside until she's completely impaled on your cock. Her arms wrap around your neck and her eyes never leave yours as she moves her hips back and forth in a slow rhythm. The sound of the leather bench creaking only adds to the taboo excitement of the moment.

Her breasts sway with each thrust, brushing against your chest with each movement. You grab one firmly, feeling her nipple harden under your touch as she grinds down on you. Her breath hitches as she looks into your eyes again, both of you consumed by desire. It's exhilarating to see her like this: uninhibited and craving more.

A glance in the mirror confirms how wild this situation is—the two of you making love in an empty gym late at night—but it only adds to the intensity for both of you. You watch her body move above you with a mix of arousal and pride as her trainer. You know just how much effort she's put into maintaining her incredible figure, all the hard work and dedication despite her busy schedule and strict diet. And now, that same body is moving around your cock, her labia gripping onto you tightly. You thrust upwards to meet her movements, feeling her tight walls clenching and releasing around your length. Her eyes close as she leans forward, and you and Jisoo kiss passionately.

As you break the kiss, you say, "Show me how well you've learned your squats."

Jisoo smiles. "Of course." She slides up your cock, which slaps against your abs with a wet noise, covered in her slick. She turns around and gives you a full view of her backside. While you got a decent glimpse of it in the reflections, seeing it in full is like seeing a painting in person. Her neck, her shoulders, the muscles in her back. The hourglass shape along her waist and hips to her toned thighs. They're enough to end a man with sight alone—and then she lowers herself on your cock once again, riding you reverse cowgirl as you lean back, your hands behind your head, in the sexiest core workout of your life.

She grinds down on you, making you beg for release as her act of worship continues.

Your fingers find their way to her hips, guiding her rhythm as you watch the most beautiful woman you've ever seen grind on your lap. The sight of her ass cheeks bouncing, the sounds of wet flesh slapping against your cock, it's all too much. Her eyes flutter shut in pleasure and she tosses her head back, moaning your name loudly in the empty gym. Her movements become faster, and harder against your grasp as she slides up and down your length with ease.

"Fuck," she gasps between breaths, "you feel so good." You bite down on your bottom lip hard enough to stifle a groan of approval as she rides you like a champion athlete. "I'm gonna... Fuck!" she shouts, as her legs tremble.

You sit up and wrap your arms around her torso as her body begins to shake, and here, you fuck her through her orgasm. You can see her eyes rolling in the mirror, and by the time your lips are on her neck, you only see the whites. You fondle her breasts, thrust upward into her, and feel her melt into you. "That's it, cum on my cock."

Jisoo's moans get louder and louder. Slick warmth surrounds you as she cums, tightening around your cock. She feels so good that you can't help but lose control too, though you manage to pull out before you start to pulsate. Regaining some of her awareness, she clasps her thighs together around your shaft, and you pump into the delectable pressure and friction. Fucking her thighs, you spurting and spraying all over her legs, her midriff, and her tits. You can feel her soft pussy lips still throbbing in sympathy, and the two of you ride out your climaxes together for what feels like forever.

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