#lifts his head to see if it's the silver-haired man

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

say you can't sleep, m | myg

... baby, I know that's that me – espresso by sabrina carpenter

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Snapshots of a love story centered around coffee and soft skin, heh, isn't that just so suga sweet? Mmmm, I guess so.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; fluff they're cute as fuck; smut (fem reader, fingering + f-receiving oral at work, gasp, doggy, m-receiving oral in a bedroom, whew, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS – Yoongi's POV except final scene in your POV

--

“You don’t like coffee.”

She handed him the iced Americano with an enigmatic expression.

“But I like you.”

Then she walked away.

-

“Oh? I didn’t expect to see you here.”

He looked up from his lonesome table, fully intending to tell the person to fuck off. It was too late and too dark and too restless for him to even think about socializing. He lifted his head and found himself speechless for several seconds. An enigmatic expression paired with a tight black dress. He took another sip of his whiskey to avoid making the pause awkward.

He caught a whiff of a heavy, rich, coffee-scented perfume.

Then he shrugged.

“Can’t sleep.”

She smiled.

-

“You know her?”

She sat a few tables away, wrapped in a tight black dress. A soft white knitted cardigan draped over her shoulders. Demure with a hint of sex. He recognized those black high heels with gunmetal buckles. They had been tossed carelessly by his door last night. He watched her hands dance in the air with her conversation. The man sitting in front of her seemed mildly interested. Black t-shirt, silver bracelets, faded blue jeans. She rolled her eyes and her lunch companion looked similarly annoyed, shaking his head of straight, long black hair. The waiter went by their table, carrying the handheld kiosk.

She tapped her credit card, already prepared.

The young man whipped his hands out in a what-the-fuck motion.

She shrugged.

Her black velvet purse was tucked in her lap, right above her plush thighs that had been wrapped around his neck last night.

“Better than you do,” he replied, and didn’t elaborate.

-

“I didn’t know you knew him.”

She gave him a confused look.

“Why wouldn’t I know my younger brother?”

Oh.

She handed him the iced Americano with a sly smile.

“But I’ll let him know that you were jealous.”

Fuck.

-

“You don’t have to.”

She took his hand and wrapped it around the cold drink, leaving him with a handful of condensation and consideration.

“I want to.”

She was about to let go but his other hand shot up, enclosing the back of hers. He watched her almost hide the way her breath caught. Her eyes shifted. Those parted lips were picture perfect softness that inspired wet dreams. Her skin was even more perfect up close and in the light. A tick of her eyebrow. He didn’t back down.

“Meet me in front of the café at seven tonight.”

She didn’t hesitate.

“Okay.”

-

Date after date, she wore the same perfume and the same enigmatic smile. Night after night, he stared up at the ceiling, wondering what the fuck he was doing. Day after day, he looked forward to her occasional treat in the form of ice coffee. He admired her audacity to let everyone talk. Both of them deflected the topic when anyone asked. No sense in entertaining unsolicited opinions.

In bed, he closed his eyes and breathed in, remembering the way her soft skin smelled against him.

He was addicted to her perfume.

Then again, he already had a coffee problem so maybe it was all in his head.

-

From across the room, she smiled at him.

He acknowledged her with a nod, sticking his hands in his pockets so they wouldn’t shake.

The eye contact lingered for a moment linger before she turned and walked out the door.

After about ten minutes, he made up some excuse and left too.

-

He kissed the inside of her thigh and looked up.

Her knuckle was against her teeth, biting down lightly, calmly giving him an expression of apprehension and boldness. He cocked his head. She shrugged with one shoulder. He bunched her skirt around her waist.

And stared into her eyes as he licked upwards.

Hot, heavy, and with possessiveness.

She melted against the wall. Lashes fluttering, shivering under him, no sound. Probably because of where they were. The mischief in her eyes glimmered. Her perfect lips formed words both silent and damning.

Keep going.

To be perfectly clear he did not give a fuck about rules, but also he liked his job and didn’t want to get himself fired. Yet. He skimmed his lips over her soft skin and figured that at least it would be a cool story, letting his fingers sink into her shapely hips, toying with the hem of her panties with his thumbs. Her free hand wandered down to hold up her skirt. Helpful. He closed his eyes. Tongue, lips, teeth travelling up in a zig-zag from thigh to thigh. Her coffee-scented perfume faded as the scent of sweet sex prevailed, his index finger skimming over the heat, following the forbidden line.

Absolute silence.

But beneath his lips, her body was singing. Vibrating with pleasure. Pressing her shoulder blades against the wall, rolling her hips towards him. He opened his eyes to see hers under lidded lashes. Slid his finger under, down, the back of his nail drenched, and he pulled it aside, watching her sensual mouth form his name.

He closed his lips around the top and sank two fingers into her pussy.

Fuck, she tasted so good.

The shudder took over him before he could stop it. Delightful shivers as he watched her watch him when he cupped his tongue around her clit. Circling it gently. Coaxing. Slow and steady, admiring the way her slick walls closed in around his fingers. Thrusting deeper. He spread his knees more, wincing as he felt his hardening erection strain against even his loose jeans. She kept her hips still, melting into his momentum, looking hot as hell fully dressed with his mouth as her new accessory. He spied the curl of her pink tongue against the side of her lips. His fingers involuntarily twitched, digging his blunt nails into her thigh. Tongue against nerves. The steady climb to the heavenly high. Quiet breathing becoming labored, his cock aching at the image and taste of sweet evidence.

Her arousal dripping down his throat.

She came to his tongue, pressing the crown of her head against the wall and silently gasping to the ceiling.

No one found out.

At least, Human Resources didn’t let him know they did.

-

He spent a little more time checking out his outfit before leaving his apartment. Bomber jacket, loose shirt, slightly less torn jeans, and his nicest bag, a black leather messenger. Debated on a beanie. Decided against it and took a moment to tie his hair back into a low ponytail. The front pieces were too short to be tied back. He adjusted them in the mirror and out the door he went. Subway and then a short walk. He visited the usual spot, a café by the office, and she was already in line. The cashier seemed to have taken a liking to her, trying to keep her for a few lines of conversation. She either didn’t notice or didn’t care, courteously stepping out of line after she paid and waiting to the side for her order.

He contemplated walking up to her.

This was the first time he had been this early. He was not and never would be a morning person. A lot of the time he had to settle for the shitty coffee from the machine in the break room. He preferred an expert’s hand though, so he did his best to drag himself out of bed to get in line. Big chains had apps to order-and-go, but this was a mom-and-pop store that didn’t have the money for such technology. Honestly, now he was glad about that. A rare occurrence of the universe being on his side.

His gaze must have remained for too long because she looked up from her phone and her head turned, spotting him immediately.

He let his eyes linger when hers did.

A glimmer in her eye. Must be the morning sun. She raised her hand and beckoned him to her.

He stepped out of line and walked up to her.

“I can buy my own coffee, you know.”

The café smelled like stale morning coffee and yet somehow she smelled even better.

“Just let me do this one thing for you, hm?” she smiled.

He didn’t trust himself to respond. Instead, he stood next to her and stuck his hands in his pockets. He noticed several people looking her way but they all quickly reoriented their wandering eyes. It had to have something to do with the way her long black skirt clung to her hips or her courage of wearing a maroon faux fur cropped jacket out in public. Or maybe it was the way her tight black turtleneck clung to her chest.

“You can go on ahead. I’ll drop off the drink for you.”

He half-considered it. Maybe even take a moment to make it obvious for everyone.

Still, he didn’t want to leave.

“I’m still waking up,” he offered as his reply.

They weren’t looking at each other but he was highly aware of her presence next to him. He didn’t sense any discomfort. The café was getting packed. She scooted closer to him as a couple more people moved into the waiting section.

The barista called out her name.

She glided up to the counter. He watched her go, pit-a-pat beating in his chest. Admired every line, the way her hips swayed, the way stray rays of the sunrise made her hair glow. Watched her turn around in slow-motion mental cinema, raising her head, their eyes connecting, the corner of her lips rising when she saw him waiting for her.

She held out the iced Americano.

“Careful, someone might think we’re an item.”

He reached out and let his fingers graze her wrist.

“I think someone already does.”

He was talking about himself but he didn’t miss the pleasure in her eyes when the exchange happened.

-

She was a menace every time.

“I’m going to make sure you’ll need caffeine tomorrow,” she mused out loud.

He raised an eyebrow.

“And how are you going to do that?”

He somewhat regretted asking that.

-

The room was pitch black.

“You still up?”

The presence beside him shifted, facing him, but he wouldn’t be able to see even if he opened his eyes. He didn’t need to though. He knew the way the blanket draped over her arm, exposing the corner of her shoulder, her hair cascading over her neck covered in his invisible kisses and light bites. Her arm over her breasts as she adjusted her hand just under the pillow. The blanket dipped a bit further down the bed, then rose up sharply at her hips.

“Sorry if I seem restless,” she whispered. “I have insomnia sometimes.”

He had offered before, but she hadn’t accepted until tonight. He wasn’t sure what had made her change her mind.

“Me too,” he confessed. “I take a long time to fall asleep.”

Her voice was feathery and soft. Not pitched to act younger or be more appealing. True to who she was and where she was in her life. Her coffee-scented perfume reflected that as well. Dark and smokey and acidic. Full-bodied in every sense of the word. He heard amusement in her soothing voice as she spoke.

“That’s a very polite way of admitting that you’re nervous of the pretty girl in your bed being a closeted psychopath and smothering you in your sleep before taking all of your valuables and skipping town.”

He smiled.

“Don’t worry, I know all pretty girls are psychopaths.”

She laughed. “Won’t fall for my tricks then, hm?”

“I might if you actually tried some of yours on me.”

There was a pause in her breathing. A single flutter of butterfly wings, so slight he almost thought he imagined it.

“You think so?”

He kept telling himself he wouldn’t, but deep down he knew he would.

“Yeah,” he murmured, noncommittal.

There was a pungent silence.

Then he felt her warmth closer. Closer. Warm exhale tickling his shoulder. Her hand settled on his arm. A whirlwind of thoughts. He had always thought, oh, it would be annoying. It would be heedlessly complicated. It would die out quick. And, ultimately, it would be fleeting and unfulfilling.

Like a shooting star during a meteor shower.

“You’re something else, Min Yoongi.”

Meaningless was it was, he found himself making a wish as the weight of sleep swept him away.

-

Of course, he was scared.

Of course, he wasn’t going to acknowledge it or show it. People were fickle, complicated creatures that spent lifetimes trying to explain themselves to no avail. He was one of them. He had long ago accepted that he was part of the problem. Likewise, he accepted that he would never understand. He wasn’t about to encroach on the millennia of human philosophy and twist his brain trying to make sense of it all.

“I should leave.”

Best he could do was write some songs about it.

“Sit,” he commanded in his most inviting tone.

Better not to think about it too much.

He looked away from the stove for a moment to see the unsure shift of her eyes and the hesitation of her parted lips. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.” She lifted her gaze.

He held it, but only for a second.

Any longer would have been too telling.

He turned back to the pan and replied with, “You cannot possibly think I’m that rude to kick you out before breakfast. Sit.”

Thinking about it too much would ruin it, anyway. It would make it less true. Convoluted. Muddled by past experiences and endless doubts. He refused to let that happen. He lifted the frying pan, tipping the fried egg onto the freshly made white rice. Set the pan down. Turned around with the bowl in hand, setting it on the counter in front of the barstool next to a small plate of his mother’s kimchi. He saw her hesitate once more. Maybe it was his imagination, or was that a flush of pink at the tops of her cheeks? He pulled out a drawer and added a pair of chopsticks by the bowl. Didn’t take his eyes off her movements.

She reached out and pulled out the barstool, sliding onto the brown leather.

Bowed her head to hide her smile.

“Thanks for the food.”

Yoongi silently let out the breath he had been holding.

-

Just before she walked out his door, she leaned in and kissed him.

She drew back.

“See you.”

He stepped forward and pulled her into a longer kiss.

“See you,” he breathed, missing her already.

-

He couldn’t look at he when she smiled.

Even as the corner of his mouth lifted and his teeth sank into the side of his lower lip.

Dark, smokey, acidic.

Her perfume was so familiar now. It settled into his palette, embellishing the dreamlike image. His hands rested on her waist, fingertips drumming against soft skin. Her fingers danced up his sternum and her lips hovered by his. Breath to breath. Her other palm on his chest. Hips to hips. The moment lingered. Almost to the point of discomfort, and then she leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

He wondered if he tasted like coffee.

The kiss melted into him. Warmth rushed all over his body. He should be used to it and yet he fell back under her spell. Under her kisses over his face and neck, under her insistent touch. He dug his nails into her back. She matched him, but harder, rougher, her tongue slipping into his moaning mouth as she scratched him up. Perhaps it was a perverted satisfaction but he rather enjoyed knowing that his pale skin would be marred in pink lines of passion. He didn’t want to be precious about it.

She straddled him and pressed her panties into his erection.

He griped her waist and kissed her harder.

-

He enjoyed it when she slipped her arm in his as they walked side by side. He enjoyed watching passerby glance at them with envy, especially when her head leaned against his shoulder. He enjoyed it when she tugged him to her and caught his lips possessively. He didn’t know when he stopped hiding the smile he had when around her. He didn’t know when he stopped wanting to be alone in his free time and instead wanted to fill it with her coffee-scented perfume. He used to work late all the time because there was nothing better to do, but lately there was a better reason to ditch his responsibilities.

It was careless but such was life.

Heh.

He loved to watch her face, and yet there was something about watching her back arch and her fingers curl into the sheets. Something about his hands gripping her hips and driving himself deeper. Something about the image of her ass and thighs bouncing with each forceful smack of body-to-body contact. Just something about it. Tight, wet, hot, closing his eyes and tipping his head back, dragging his nails down her spine, feeling her match his pace. He enjoyed fucking as much as the next guy. This was simply different.

Something about her, maybe.

She threw her head back, her visceral sounds music to his ears, pleasure incarnate, and he could feel each wave threaten to drag him under, into the permanent honeymoon haze. He let it take him, gasping, surrendering, wanting it again already. She moaned with him, clutching his pillows into a jumbled mess.

Fuck, so good.

One shared look.

To be honest, he was proud of the number of used condoms that piled up.

-

“A candle?”

She lifted the heavy glass lid and inhaled. Her eyes widened, sparkling with recognition and delight.

He stated the obvious. “It’s coffee-scented.”

“I love the scent of coffee,” she murmured. He already knew that. “You remember.”

He half-smiled. “Isn’t that your excuse for always getting me one? You like the scent but you don’t drink it?” He couldn’t help but tease.

She gave him a mischievous smirk. “Trying to throw me off your scent? It won’t work.”

He sure as fuck hoped it didn’t. “I’m trying to convince you to stop buying those expensive iced Americanos for me. I’m trying to cut down for my health.”

She frowned. But he shook his head, trying to dissipate any misunderstanding.

“Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t come up with the idea. My doctor did.”

Her gaze narrowed, unconvinced.

He shoved his hands back into his pockets so they would stop shaking. There was no bag or awkward gift wrapping for him to hold on to. It wasn’t his style, but he somewhat regretted it now. He tiled his head, relaxing his face despite the thunder within his ribcage.

“What?”

She replaced the lid of the candle. Her thumb ran across the embossed characters on the paper label. Capitalism had burned a hole in his wallet. He didn’t mind though. She held it close to her chest.

“This is an expensive brand. I’ve seen it at higher end stores.”

He was delighted that she knew. The cheaper brands had smelled far too fake and far too sweet. He wanted that rich bitterness. Dark and smokey and acidic. A scent that reminded him of them. She watched him carefully. He shrugged.

“You get what you pay for.” Chuckled, raising an eyebrow slightly. “Fair, once I considered the culmination of the price of all those coffees. And, anyway, I only wanted you to know that you don’t have to pay a price for my attention. You’ve had it all this time.”

Her eyes widened a bit.

He shifted his weight, about to walk past.

At the last second, he turned his head, pausing to whisper in her ear.

“But don’t think about buying anyone else a coffee, alright?”

Before he could make his escape, her eyes were already locked onto his, her lips centimeters from his.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Min Yoongi.”

-

“What?”

She grinned. Their hands interlocked. Holding tight, even though his back was flat against her bed. Her body hovered over his. She lowered, slowly. He sucked in a breath as he felt her hard nipples brush against his chest.

“You like that?” she teased.

He stared into her eyes, melting into her mischief. “Yeah.”

She pressed her soft breasts flush against him, rubbing back and forth. He closed his eyes, shuddering, her name in his throat. His other hand migrated to her waist and he squeezed her, wanting her to know his desire. Her coffee-scented perfume stuck to his skin, bitter and sweet and addictive, a guilty pleasure he didn’t feel guilty about.

His doctor had advised him to cut back on coffee and alcohol, his other guilty pleasures, so naturally he found himself tangled up in another.

Heh.

His fingers slid up, up, tangling in her hair, pulling her face to his. There was a split second where their eye lines connected under their lashes, and he froze up. She stared back. Centimeters of trembling air between their lips. His entire body could barely contain the want and yet. It wasn’t the first time they had been this close. Far from it.

But this was the first time Yoongi realized he would move heaven and earth for those eyes.

He squeezed her hand.

She squeezed back and closed the distance between them, her eyelids falling. His too, and he realized there was sex and then there was this. This, the goosebumps that erupted over his skin when her fingertips glided down his arm. This, the chain of kisses leaving him in a daze. This, the delicate shock of her lips travelling down his chest. This, the pit-a-pat and pang of something so dirty being so pure. Her mouth enveloped him and coated his cock with a thin layer of velvety saliva. Back and forth, so soft, just right, building a lovely desperation that he savored. Tighter, and he gasped, marveling at the suffocating gentleness that made him painfully hard. Pace so steady it was nearly maddening, his fingers twisting in the sheets, and he sucked in another breath, the air saturated with her scent, hitting the apex and at the same time falling so fully that he couldn’t hide it anymore.

She kept him hard, knowing the precise amount of softness and insistence. He didn’t need to say anything. She thought about him the same way he thought about her. Her hands fanned over his hips, extending the pleasure of orgasm. His exhale a shudder. Their eyes connected again.

He beckoned her back up, breathlessly.

She obeyed. Skin to skin. His fingertips touched her chin, conducting her movement.

He could taste himself in their kiss.

“You like that?” he whispered to her lips.

She smiled against his. “Yeah.”

One torn-open condom wrapper later, and there was nothing better than her legs wrapping around his waist once he was completely inside. Shivering breath, his fingertips grazing over her collarbones, and he was well aware of his own black hair tangled over his eyes. She looked up at with admiration and satisfaction, tightening around him.

“You should come over to mine tomorrow night. Spend the weekend with me,” he found himself saying.

Her expression amused. “Wouldn’t want to get you in trouble with your landlord.”

He pushed his hair back, cleaning his vision.

“Let that be my problem.”

Her eyes sparkled.

“I’ll think about it.”

Seemed like she already had though.

Slow and tense, leaning down. Deeper. Her legs sliding up, tighter. Each breath drawn in hotter, keeping their electric eye contact, and he lifted one of his hands to wrap around her wrist. She watched him, intrigued. He thrust downwards and she squeezed him all around, meeting his pace, their eyes closing, succumbing to the honeymoon haze in harmony, their wanton sounds melding together like sugar into coffee. Harder. Rougher. Her name falling from his lips and his from hers. His grip on her wrist slipped.

Their fingers interlocked.

He kept the high coming, over and over.

-

The room was pitch black.

“Can’t sleep?”

He stretched his arm over his head. His body was still running hot.

“Don’t want to.”

She hummed. “Why’s that?”

He should sleep but that would tear him out of this dream. “Pretty girl giving me insomnia.”

“Damn. Wish I could help,” she chuckled, curling up against his side.

He hadn’t known it when she walked into his life, light glimmering off her hair and adorned with a sweet smile. Day by day, catching himself watching her walk past. He admired the confident way she held herself, the assuredness in her stride, the sharpness of her wit. Then one day, the morning after a particularly restless night, she had walked right up to him, an iced Americano in hand. She had known his preference. Could have been observation or asking around. Or both. Didn’t matter, as it was clear she took the time and noticed his lingering gaze.

“Why me?”

Her soft cheek against his shoulder.

“You know why.”

He did but he still wanted to make sure. “You weren’t scared?”

She took a moment to recall. “Worst thing you can say is no. You didn’t.”

He turned his head. She scooted up, and now they were looking at each other in the darkness. He couldn’t see shit, but he had already memorized her face in moments, in snapshots of closeness, into dreams he couldn’t help but believe in. She brought her face closer and their lips found each other with him meeting her halfway.

He pulled her closer.

Yoongi had always believed, oh, love would be annoying. Love would be heedlessly complicated. Love would die out quick and, ultimately, be fleeting and unfulfilling, like a shooting star during a meteor shower. And maybe it was all that.

But he could also be wrong.

Kiss after kiss, falling stars in the darkness, and he couldn’t help but believe in wishes.

Maybe he was just too far gone. Too under her spell to be logical anymore. Her leg slid over his hip, their bodies seamlessly against each other and her hand cradled his face, breathing in his air. Her perfume still lingered, dark and smokey and reminding him of how this love started, or perhaps it had rubbed off onto his skin in their passion. He didn’t mind. In fact, he preferred it.

“Don’t think about anyone else, alright?” she whispered.

His hand settled around her waist.

His lips touched her nose. Lightly, endearingly. Didn’t she know? She must. Maybe she wanted to hear it from his lips. He didn’t know the romantic thing to say. He was terrible at that. Always was, always would be. Then again, she had already given him the answer.

He smiled.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, darling.”

-

“Iced Americano. The largest size, please.”

The barista smiled sheepishly. “Busy day?”

You tilted your head, a stray strand of hair curling around your curved lips.

“My darling needs it.”

--

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #bts smut #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #min yoongi smut

[bodhrancomedy]

The Heart of the Garden is a Single, Silver Rose by Bodhrán M.

We must start our story at the end because that is where we must start it.

We end in a garden.

It is a garden without a sky.

It is a perfect circle, the grass rippling out into edgeless mist, not unlike the halo of a candle in the centre of a dark room. The grass is blue, but it is the blue of pale water-silk rather than sapphires, and it is soft and short. There are hedges, immaculately trimmed and arranged into pieces of a jigsaw. They are the colour of clouds moments after the rain has fallen - a shade somewhere between grey and white - and they are tall enough to hide the heart of the garden from prying eyes.

We must walk towards the heart.

I take your hand in mine. You clutch me tightly enough that your knuckles fade into white. Your hand is so very warm.

A doorway of lavender and bluebells is directly in front of us. There is a path made of pale, pale bricks, inset with jet. It glows under our feet as we walk, just a little, and we leave brief shadows of our passage.

I lead you through. It smells of every kind of flower which you can imagine but is so faint that you cannot decide if it is real or merely a memory.

It is not your memory.

Beyond the door, there is a lake encircled by a gate formed from white thorns. A copper dais, large enough to stand on, is set in the very centre, seemingly untethered by any chain or rope or bridge and yet it does not move as we approach.

And, upon this dais, is a single, silver rose.

You look to me, mouth forming the beginnings of a question, and so you do not see the man who arrives. He does not appear in the pop of a soap bubble, nor does he form from the ceaseless mist which holds this garden like an oyster does a pearl. He simply arrives and from that, he has always been there.

As I coax you closer, he lifts the hood of his pristine white robe. I can feel your surprise. It is a kind enough face, moon-round and weather-beaten, but his eyes are closed. He does not open them. His hair is short, and grey save a circlet of silver about his temples, forehead, and nape of his neck.

Smiling, he beckons you onto the floating platform.

You do not loosen your grip immediately, gaze darting back for guidance. I extract my hand and point you on your way.

Your feet slide as you step onto the copper. You throw out your hands pre-emptively, believing that it will rock and throw you to the ground as ripples expand across the pond.

It does not. It is as steady as the ground which you left.

His smile grows brighter, but he still does not look at you. As his sleeves slide back, I hear you gasp. The little finger on his right hand is missing, down to the last joint, and the skin is raw and angry like it happened mere hours ago.

You do not seem to see the dripping silver bracelets which wind down his arms and disappear inside his robe. 

I watch as you breathe and then plant yourself before the rose and the man. You are the only spot of real colour in this world. You clasp your hands behind your back, like you are about to recite a poem in assembly, and then speak in a loud, clear voice.

"I have come to claim the reward."

Your words roll across the still garden, bouncing back from leaf, and flower, and stem.

"The reward?"

His voice is velvet laced with stars. As deep and slow as a wave before it crests.

You nod. "I have come for the reward."

He bows his head. The next words are quiet. "And how did you earn it?"

And now - we come to the beginning.

#writing #fantasy #horror #writeblr

[mysterymeatmunchr]

Barkback Mountain By The MeatMunchr

Authors notes:

3.3k words, one shot, FTM MLM

This is basically my “If Brokeback Mountain was two trans male cowboys fucking raw and nasty in the woods” fantasy. Oh, and also they’re both into pet play.

Content Warnings:

Consensual Fighting/Impact play, Struggling/Struggle Fucking, Blood, Spit, Knives, Cutting, Degradation, Pet Play, Brief light CNC

Character Descriptions:

I didn’t name the characters because I want readers to be able to think of whoever they want, BUT I did picture what they look like to me. You can picture them differently if you would like to.

The Narrator:

FTM, bear, butch, short and stout, broad shouldered, muscular but not toned, beer bellied, full dark thick and curly body hair, full trimmed beard, chest length loose dark curls, wide calloused hands, dark hooded eyes, broad browed, and strong featured.

He wears a black cattleman hat, a dark denim shirt, dark denim pants, brown boots, and a silver bolo tie.

The Lover:

FTM, otter/cub, butch, short, muscular and toned, broad shouldered, full thick dark curly body hair, full overgrown stubble, brow length loose brown curls, brown soft downturned eyes, and soft featured.

He wears a tan cattleman hat, a blue denim shirt, blue denim pants, and tan boots.

————

As I stand in the clearing waiting for him to arrive, I wonder if he’s gotten lost again. I was sure to give him plenty of markers to look out for on the way, and it isn’t all that hard once you reach the creek, but for a cowhand he sure is poor at finding his way. I’ve waited this long to see him again, I’m sure I can wait moments longer until he stumbles upon the clearing. I find a stump to rest on while I wait with my thoughts to keep me company. The excitement and nerves tangle up my insides, but I can manage a stoic front.

It isn’t too long before a rustling comes from the trees and a familiar form appears. A man close to my height, a little more on the slender side compared to my burly stout build and beer fattened stomach, but still stocky enough to keep up with the other cattlemen. Unlike the others, we both hold the same secret. We knew from the day we set eyes on each other we were different from the others. It was an unspoken kinship, something in our eyes that screamed out to each other, ‘I know what you are.’ It wasn’t long before we started having our little… meetings…

As the other man approaches I stand to greet him, “Took you long enough,” His dark unkempt curls are spilling out from under his hat and his blue denim fit him well, starched like a gentleman for a special occasion. “You know I’ve never met a cowhand as directionless as you. It’s damn near shameful.”

“It’s nice to see you too,” he says with a smile.

“I wasn’t lost this time, I saw something a ways back by the creek and stopped for it.”

The man sets down his pack next to mine, then lifts his tan hat up revealing a white handkerchief tied up into a sack, peppered with deep dark stains. He hands me the parcel from atop his head. I untie the knots revealing blackberries bursting with juice.

“Well, this is mighty kind of you, thank you. I apologize for my comments.” I bit into a berry and he did the same, the dark juice pooling between his teeth like a beautiful premonition of what’s to come. “It’s nice to see you too.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks me. His brown eyes glowing gold in the tree filtered sunlight.

“Of course I do, the hardest part is deciding whether or not I’m letting you throw the first punch,” I said, trying and failing to wipe a smirk off my face. “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet.”

“I’m not,” his tone was serious. “I want this, and this time, I’m gonna win.”

“It’s cute that you think that pretty boy, we’ll see.” I take off my bolo tie and denim shirt, fold up the shirt and place it on top of my pack along with my black cattlemen hat. My partner does similarly and we head to the center of the clearing.

…

Blow after blow, noses and mouths bloodied, the metallic taste on our teeth fuels something deeply primal and terrifying within us as we spit and growl and scream at each other. The sweat, blood, and dirt on him fills my lungs. The smell is sickeningly sweet. He socks me square in my jaw. I roar before spitting out the blood. ‘Enough,’ I think to myself. I shove the smaller man to the ground, eyes aflame, no longer recognizing the beautiful boy I’ve bloodied, bruised, and beaten. My muscles ache, wrestling him into submission, our bodies woven together in a desperate battle for dominance. I finally pin him down on his back, straddling his hips, gripping both his wrists hard enough to bruise. He’s banging his head into the earth, thrashing his arms and legs, trying and failing to free himself from the heavy strength and weight of me. He howls out a deep, defeated, guttural scream. His teeth bared and snarling, with strings of bloody spit weaving through his hateful mouth.

I smile as he spits on my face. I look him in the eyes smug as I lick his spit off the side of my mouth.

“You’re disgusting,” he hisses through gritted teeth, knowing I’d won, knowing he wants me to dominate him and he hates me for it.

I hold him there still for a moment to take in my work. I need to see it, the hate and lust and defeat. Angry tears well up in his eyes as the blood rushes in and swells up my already leaky tcock.

I crash into his lips devouring him while he lets out little curses between each breath, he breaks my desperation with a bite to my lip. He gives me all the spite in his body until he draws blood. I smile, lip still caught between his teeth, as I grab his jaw digging my fingers into his bruised cheeks to release myself. I’m thankful for it, he just gave me a reason to pull away and strike his face hard with an open hand. I spit on his pitiful, beautiful, beaten face and strike him once more. I lap it up off his cheek along with the blood and dirt like a ravenous dog, unable to stop myself from grinding against his struggling hips. The degradation of him is burning up something hateful and angry and shameful inside me.

I move his wrists into one of my hands, keeping him pinned as I reach for my hunting knife. Savoring the fear in his eyes, I hold the blade to his throat.

“Don’t. Fucking. Move.” I whisper into his ear.

Keeping him at knife point I get up and hastily kick off my boots and tear off my jeans and drawers. I know I already have him, he’ll be good and stay put for me, but I’m just too impatient, I want to defile him so badly.

I crash back down to the earth to rip off his jeans. I can hear his ragged breaths through the leaves singing in the wind. I slash through his drawers with my knife, before tracing down his stomach with the blunt side of the blade. He knows what’s coming next. I press the tip of my knife into his thigh and drag slowly, his body tenses and he whimpers. The sound sends blood rushing to my pulsing heat. I’ve marked him with another tally, another loss, permanently scarred next to seven previous defeats. I don’t know when this part of the ritual began but I fell in love with how humiliating this is, especially for him, knowing my thigh bears only three marks and his now holds eight. A tear rolls down his soiled cheek as I force open his legs, pinning up one of his thighs before holding my knife back up at his throat. I look into his eyes hazed with fear and lust, without words, I’m commanding him, not asking, yet still he nods his head. It’s more permission than I needed to mount him. Dripping and hungry, I grind my boycunt against his. His defiance and anger is melting into submission, as he begins to match my movements. We rut into each other like dogs in heat.

One of his hands claws into my forearm just barely holding the knife at bay, and the other clutches the forest floor tight as we frot. Our cum soaks the earth beneath us. He desperately grinds his hips into mine, he can’t bite back his moans anymore.

“Please,” he whimpers like a dog, “Please, use your mouth, I need your tongue,” begging through gasps. He’s mine. He knows he’s mine. I dig my nails into the soft, hairy skin of his thighs, and he winces.

“How badly do you want me?” I challenge, my voice deep and rasped with breathlessness, “Show me,” I command.

Slowly his hand releases my forearm, leaving behind bloodied crescent moons and the beginnings of bruises where his nails were once buried. My nails embedded in his thigh follow suit, and I toss away my knife.

“Please,” he whispers, beginning to prop himself up. I nod and allow him to sit up, he brings his face close to mine and kisses me gently, then pulls away. “I want you so badly” he whines.

I feel the heat of his hand radiate down my big hairy stomach as he makes his way towards my swollen heat. He lays his head on my shoulder and I clutch his shaggy brown curls forcefully. A moan escapes his lips. His fingers begin to stroke my throbbing aching cock, and I can feel the cum dripping from my boycunt. I let a moan slip out, and he hesitates.

“Don’t stop, show me how badly you want me, how badly you want me to suck you off,” I say, my breath becoming uneven, “Show me you’re my pet now.”

He glides a finger against my messy hole, tracing back up to my cock rubbing against my throbbing heat in tight circles, pulling back and forth on my foreskin with each stroke. I buck against his fingers, and start to claw deeply into his back. His hand feels so good, I asked for this but I want to draw his blood for reminding me his touch can weaken me. He slides a finger down towards my cunt.

“Enough,” I release him, and pull his hand away from my crotch before he can enter me.

I push him to the forest floor and pry apart his legs, revealing his soaked pulsing tcock and cunt. I can’t hold back anymore. I’m starving for him. I look him in his eyes, and place my hand against his cheek streaked with dirt, blood, sweat, and spit. With lips barely parted, I kiss him, I drink deep the taste of his lips, his spit, his blood. I bite his lip before I move to his cheek, his jaw, his neck, biting, kissing, licking, I take in the soft sweet skin of his neck. I savor its flavor and scent as I leave behind a mark to tell him he’s mine, to tell the world he’s mine. I rip apart his undershirt so I can devour him in his entirety, as I make my way down towards his warm, throbbing boycunt. I want to consume him whole, and stain him with my hunger. My pet yelps and whines with each marking and cries out from each ravenous bite I inflict.

I pin down his thighs as I hover over his tcock. I can feel his heat on my face. I embed my nails into the tender skin of his thighs. My hot breath lands in his dark curly pubic hair. I press my lips against his inner thigh, nipping him lightly, a few warning shots, before biting down hard. He cries out to the treetops as he squirms underneath me, but I hold him down steady. I lick the bite mark and blow cool air over the tender spot, making him shiver. A hot insatiable feeling wells up from deep within my stomach and my cock aches and throbs. Finally, I envelop his cock in my mouth, sucking and stroking his pulsating bundle of nerves with my lips and tongue, drowning in the taste of him as he ruts into my face and clutches fistfuls of my long dark curls.

I release him from my mouth before sucking and teasing the swollen lips of his cunt. I want to taste all of him. My good boy grinds into me, begging for more with his puppy whimpers. I lap up his tcock with long broad strokes before quickening my pace, swirling my tongue around his raging growth. I dip my tongue down plunging into his cunt as he slams down his hips, fucking himself on my tongue. I switch between his cock and cunt, savoring both the taste of him, and the sound of his cries echoing through the forest.

I pull myself up to meet his face, and kiss him. I want him to taste himself on my lips. He looks up at me with his brown puppy eyes, and opens his mouth for me, tongue out, panting like a dog. I spit in his mouth and he takes it, swallowing and sticking his tongue out once more. I cup his face, letting him suck my thumb. I pull out and raise my hand to strike him, he flinches and I laugh. He wears such a sweet humiliated expression.

“How pitiful, be a good boy and wait here for me,” I say, petting his cheek before getting up, “and touch yourself while I’m gone mutt.”

I retrieve and don my prosthetic from my pack, as well as another piece of my leather work, a leather collar and lead. Making my way back to my pet, I take in the sight of him panting and arching his back as he strokes himself, and heat rushes through me. Filtered sunlight speckles his body. ‘My dog has spots,’ I think to myself, chuckling. His legs are open and ready for me. ‘What a pathetic mutt.’

I kneel between his legs, moving away his ‘paw’ and grind my prosthetic on his cock.

“Lift your head and stick out your tongue,” I order, buckling on his collar and lead. “You’re my dog now, my pet, my plaything. Never once were you anything but this.”

I place a finger on his tongue and pull his lead. He needn’t be told, he takes in my finger sucking and moaning, rutting himself on my prosthetic, and coating my finger with spit.

“Stroke yourself.”

I press my finger against the slick entrance of his cunt. I don’t even press in before he’s bucking his hips, fucking himself on my finger and panting. I curl my finger upwards and slowly fuck his hole, still pulling his lead. His hips are rustling the leaves beneath us, moving against my rhythm, trying to get more from me as he strokes himself faster.

“P-pl-please,” he stutters out, “another.” I cover his mouth with my hand, the lead worn around my wrist.

‘Dogs can’t speak.’

I thrust another finger in him, massaging the tender rippled flesh inside, rough and hard. I can feel his muffled moans vibrating under my rough palm. I want to hear him. I remove my hand and glide down his body until I grasp his hip. His cunt tightens on me, pulsating, milking my fingers for all the pleasure his greedy hole can get. He cries out, and I feel his warmth spray out from him onto my stomach and thighs.

“Don’t stop!” he begs, and I tug his lead sharply. He does not command me.

I pull out, spit into my hand, and coat my prosthetic with his cum and my spit. I plunge deep into him and he screams from the stretch. I slam into his cunt thrusting slow and hard, with no rest or reprieve for him to adjust to the size. His eyes roll back into his skull. He’s losing focus. ‘What a stupid dog,’ I think as I strike him with the back of my hand.

“Don’t stop touching yourself,” I growl. His hand speeds up again.

As I tug on his lead with every thrust, breathy moans escape him. I have him hold up one of his legs for me with his free hand, and the wetness spraying from his cunt soaks the harness of my prosthetic, and my stomach. I wipe it from my belly and slap him with it to punish my pet for the mess he’s made. He’s too fucked out to even wince. He moans for me at the impact. I’ve broken in my pet nicely.

The expression on his face, the sound of his cries, the sight of his throbbing swollen cock, the smell and taste of our blood staining my senses, and the base of the prosthetic grinding on my cock with each thrust lights a fire in me. I crash down on him, wrapping my arms under his shoulders and digging my nails into him. The weight of my body is pressed into his as I mercilessly fuck into him. He claws into my back and wraps his legs around my waist driving his hips into me as we howl like wild dogs.

I kiss and bite his neck as he gasps and pants in my ear. His nails in my back sting fiercely. He’s undoubtedly drawn blood. I cry out, but my pace is unwavering. My cock throbs and aches for release with every thrust. I can’t tell if the cum running down my thighs is his or mine. I use all the strength left in my body to lift him up off the forest floor. His legs still wrap around my waist and he clutches my shoulders. My ragged breaths and grunts pour from my mouth for the whole forest to hear. Hands gripping his ass, slamming him down on my prosthetic, I’m plowing up into him as he cries out. I feel his body tense and shake, his cries getting louder and louder, until he collapses onto me. I know he’s finished but I do not stop. My body aches, but I can’t stop. Pleading and sore he grasps me tightly once more.

“Please! Stop! I came! Please!” he begs, but dogs can’t speak.

I keep slamming my prosthetic into his cunt, grinding my cock against the prosthetic desperate to finish. My core tightens as I thrust into him faster, using his cunt as I please. My blood rushes to my head and cock, my heart pounds in my ears, my vision darkens, my body shakes, until suddenly, finally, I cum.

My legs buckle but I steady myself, laying my partner gently to the ground, and kissing his forehead before collapsing to the ground beside him. We’re breathless, sweat and cum soaked, and soiled with dirt and blood, but the breeze blowing through the trees cools us. I wince, noticing the sweat rolling down my face and soaking my back stinging all of my cuts and bruises. I turn to face my lover, and pull him to me. I cup his bruised face and wipe a tear stain with my thumb.

“Are you alright? Was it too much? How bad does it hurt?” The questions spill from me too quickly. How could I do all those awful things? How could I like all those awful things? He places a finger gently up to my lips silencing me.

“Yes. No. Could be worse.” He laughs, smiling at me, “It was good. You’re good.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?” I ask. My disregard for him from before is melting away into concern and shame.

“Just lay here a spell with me, then maybe you can roll me a smoke after we fix each other up.” He reassures me. He’s taken my shame and casted it away. I press him tighter to me.

“As you wish, you did so good for me. Thank you. Thank you.” I whisper to my lover. A tear stings my busted cheek.

I press my lips to his gently. We’re both bruised and aching with lips busted, but this gentleness and tenderness for each other overwhelms all else.

I hold him to my chest, petting and kissing his head, while he strokes my chest. We listen to the trees rustling, and a faint babbling whispering from the creek, and the steadily slowing beating in our chests. I don’t think of how long it will be before I can see him in this light, and in this clearing, or how long it will be before, in these secluded moments, I can scream to heaven he’s mine, the way I wish I could scream it to the world. In this moment time stands still, and we can stay here forever.

#mx meatmunchr #ftm cowboy #ftm pet #trans puppy #trans nsft #ftm t4t #ftm mlm #gay cowboy #struggle #ftm dom #ftm smut #t4t nsft #ftm puppy #nsft puppy #if i dont get to do this someday im gonna scream

[cocrante]

Modern au where Kaveh is an art professor who spends his weekends meeting his friends at the bar to play cards or jamming with them in a corner. Recently, Haitham started coming to that bar, sitting in the back pretending to be busy when he's actually there because he has a crush on the blond guy with the guitar.

One evening, while they were playing cards, one of Kaveh's friends —noticing the glances from Haitham— challenges Kaveh to go talk to him if he loses at UNO.

Well, of course, he loses lol otherwise what would I be writing about? ahah but anyway, Kaveh goes to talk to Haitham. "Excuse me, can I sit here?" he asks, genuinely embarrassed, and for a moment, Haitham is breathless. He nods, and Kaveh sits, looking at the book in his hand to start a conversation:—"You're cool when you play" but Haitham preceded him "Cool?" he smiles amusedly. "Yes—" he murmurs uncomfortably. "Do you perform anywhere?" he closes the book, leaving it on the table. "Not really, we just have a channel on YouTube" he says. "It's nothing special, we don't really have time for these things" he blushes. "Pity" he looks into Kaveh's eyes, unexpectedly feeling at ease. "Can I follow you on there?" he asks, receiving an affirmative answer. He leaves the name of the channel on the bar napkin, along with the Instagram page if he wants to follow them there too. "See you, Kaveh" he says, carefully tucking the napkin into his wallet. "Hey!" he calls out before he exits the door. "What's your name?" the man smiles. "Haitham" and with a final farewell, he leaves, leaving Kaveh momentarily stunned but happy.

#📌 : wip #modern au #kavetham #haikaveh #genshin impact #but haitham doesn't follow him immediately on instagram #or subscribe to his youtube channel #he doesn't even show up at the bar #meanwhile kaveh every time a customer enters #lifts his head to see if it's the silver-haired man #then after days of silence a comment appears under a video #and a few days later he follows the band on insta too #then that evening he shows up at the bar #greeting kaveh with a nod #kaveh moving away from his group of friends #goes to greet him #and haitham compliments him because he's really cool #I MEAN #THE BAND is cool 👀 #and kaveh invites him to sit at the table with his group of friends

[stargazerlillian]

Me with a fair amount of my original characters like...

#🌠 #Meme Post #I’ve got a middle-aged museum archivist with a large nose and bony bumps on his shoulders... #... a plus-sized freckled woman with two front teeth missing who’s a gifted multi-instrumentalist... #... a plus-sized bald British immigrant man with a golden singing voice and a golden heart to match... #... an Ethiopian Jewish immigrant woman with the most friendly gap-toothed smile one could ever witness... #... a balding middle-aged bookstore owner with a bowtie for every occasion and a fondness for Shakespeare and movies based on books... #... a short yet chill African American punk dude with a mohawk as astounding as his bass-playing talents... #... a very tall and very lanky awkward beach bum dude with a slight potbelly and loads of anxiety... #... a muscular sporty woman who was the star player in her high school’s football team... #... and a tall husky Lift Bridge operator with a full head of silver hair and a noticeable belly due to age and his love of sweets. #Sure I also have characters that are “conventionally” attractive as well - nothing wrong with a little aesthetic appeal here and there. #But the fact of the matter is I’m here to make characters that are true to life - people that folks can actually see existing... #... in a world as vast and assorted as ours. I’m not here to write a YA novel. If you can’t vibe with that we can’t be friends.✌

[satorena]

❝ 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ❞

꒰ FEATURING ! ꒱. g. satoru, f. toji, g. suguru, s. ryomen

꒰ CONTENT WARNINGS ! ꒱. i warn them next to each character name so that’s all covered ! very little plot, in fact the need of piercings isn’t even necessary but wtv :P oh and the reader’s referred to girly pet names and has a vagina.

serena’s note. i’m in due of new piercings i dunno ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ ☆

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔—tongue piercing, blowjob, deepthroating, cum eating

“show it off for me pretty baby—yeahh, just like that,”

you complied to his order, slipping out his dick from your hallowed cheeks, every inch of his shaft coated in your saliva. you gasped as your throat was rid of its fullness, tears streaking down your cheeks and drool pooling at the corner of your mouth.

a string of spit connected from your bottom lip to his rosy tip, blushing an angry red as he leaked salty pre come. your wrist twists as your hands work up and down his dick, the messiness of the situation serving useful as lube.

“c’mon baby—fuck, show me your pretty jewelry, hm?” gojo begs, hand cupping your stained cheek, thumb brushing over your moist skin.

you nod your head, before sticking your tongue out through swollen lips, the silver ball pierced into the muscle now in sight. you lower your head, tongue still lolled out as you grab the base of his cock and slap his tip at it a few times.

you watch gojo unravel at the sight, the coolness of your jewelry sending him to mush. “shittt, fuck yeah baby, need your pretty mouth back on it—suck me off like the good girl you are, hah,” you feel his hand trail from your cheek to the back of your neck, urging you forward back onto his dick.

you opt to tease him, leaning forward and encircling his cock with your tongue, dragging the jewelry all over his sensitive skin, your free hand slowly jerking off inches you weren’t reaching yet.

“mmhm,” you moan at the taste, lifting your gaze to watch the man before you. he’s wincing through gritted teeth, his grip from your nape to your hair in a tight hold, hips twitching up in attempt to get more attention on his throbbing length.

“quit teasin’ me, baby,” gojo groans, hips now raised up to full extent and the clench of your throat restricting around his cock has him moaning pathetically.

tears cloud your vision as his tip reaches the back of your throat, but you work your way up and down his dick, bobbing your head in motions you knew drove him to insanity. you gripped his thighs as support, gagging sounds filling the bedroom mixed in with the melody of gojo’s whines and pleas.

the coolness of your tongue piercing dragging up his veins, in contrast to the warmth of your velvety mouth, plump lips latching at his cock tightly drove him to spiral, his gut coiling and limbs liquifying as he was washed over with pure euphoria.

his hold on your hair tightened and the sting at your scalp had you moaning around his dick, amplifying his pleasure tenfolds. “shit baby—always suckin’ me off so well, fuck, ‘s like you were made to suck dick—my dick—your mouth feels’good, losin’ my mind here—fuckkk!”

your jaw was at its wit’s end, aching as it split open to welcome gojo’s dick with ease. your eyes trailed down as your spit dribbled from his tip to his ballsack, before coming back up to stare at him with an innocent gaze, one that would surely want to fuck your throat on his own accord.

seemed you knew him too well, as he suddenly sits up from the edge of the bed, feet planted on the floor, pushing you back to align you perfectly with his dick. his dick slips out your mouth and you cough, gasping for air from the sudden puncture and removal in such a short period of time.

“need to fuck your throat—see you beggin’ for it, with those slutty fuckin’ eyes,” his cerulean eyes darken with lust, a feral look blown in his pupil and you brace yourself for the worst. “don’t you worry—i’ll give you exactly what you want. say ahh~”

still stuck on gasping for air, your jaw already slackened and there shimmers your pretty jewelry—as he rams his dick back into your throat, reaching as far until your body jerks in a deep gag. he’s got one firm hand griping your hair in a ponytail while the other keeps you in place at your nape.

his hips thrust wildly into your mouth, excessive sounds of shlurp! filling the room as your throat restricts around his length, pool of saliva slipping past your lips and staining your thighs.

“atta girl—fuck baby, ‘m gonna cum down your throat—have you gaggin’ and chokin’ on my nut—y’love this nasty shit dontcha—shit!—y’love it when i use you like the cumdump you are, yeah? mmh,”

mouth too full to answer, you allow the roll of your eyes to the back of your head and your muffled moans to do the talking for you. you’d grown painfully wet the entire seance, loving whenever he’d go feral on you with no restraint.

you hallowed your cheeks as his tip rocked back and forth against your tongue piercing, and judging by the pinch in his brows and the contracting of his abdomen muscles, you knew he would be cumming.

“that’s the fuckin’ spirit pretty girl—you better swallow every last drop—yeah, swallow that shit, hnng, milk me for what i’m worth—shit y/n!”

his final act, pushing your head all the way down—till your nose reaches to snowy white pubes, your loudest gag yet as he empties himself down your throat. he keeps you locked in place and your throat tightens around his length, your fingernails digging into his thigh muscles.

when his dick twitches in your mouth uncontrollably, he pulls you off, watching as you cough violently, nasty strings of fluids connecting from your mouth’s entrance to his dick, just how he loved it—sloppy head.

“fuckkk,” he sighs dreamily, grabbing his own cock and tapping the excess drops against your jewelry, now stained white with his cum. your eyes are teary and doed, and he swears you’ve never looked prettier.

“we gotta do that shit again.”

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈—clit piercing, belly bulging, creampie, overstimulation

“you went and got this slutty piercing without me? let another man spread your legs and play with yer pussy and felt no sympathy for toji’s feelings?”

said man held his dick tight in his fist, aligning it with your pussy, right above where your freshly pierced clit was, and rubbed his tip all over your bundle of nerves.

you mewled and cried, your orgasm having just hit you from his mouth alone and he overstimulated you, punishing you for having let another man touch you. your back arched off the mattress and you felt your jaw slacken, mouth into an ‘o’ shape as toji abused your worn out clit.

“n-no, toji please—need your dick inside, mmh, need to feel you inside daddy!” you babble aimlessly, hand sneaking in between your thighs to reach at his cock, stroking it up and down, begging to have it reach places inside you knew would have you seeing stars.

“and just why should i give you what you want?” toji teases you, his free hand swiping your hand away. “my feelings are hurt doll, what tells you you deserve to cum on my dick, hm?”

you shake your head, desperation washing over you as you failed to voice out that not only had it been a girl that pierced, but he was fully aware you were going to get this piercing. toji was messing with you to make you beg, and you would be damned to not reach that peak pleasure over a matter of pride.

“‘m sorry daddy—wasn’t thinking, but i won’t do it again, i swear!” you plead, toes curling as the stimulation on your clit jewelry began heating up pleasure in your gut. you felt yourself lose your composure, “please toji—wanna be fucked like your slut! need to be taught a lesson, was very bad—teach me what happens to disobedient sluts—fuuckkk!”

you cut yourself off as one of your legs are thrown over his broad shoulders and the other wraps around his waist. toji bottoms out inside, leaving you no room to breathe or prepare yourself, before lifting his hips up and roughly slamming them into yours.

your body jerks up to his powerful thrusts, your head pushing up into the headboard as pleasure washes over your limp limbs. you feel his dick stretch your cunt deliciously, the drag of his dick in and out your silky folds sending your mind in a frenzy.

“you wanna be fucked like a slut? i’ll fuck you like a goddamn slut—no cummin till i finish first, that oughta teach ya a fuckin’ lesson,” toji grins beastly, dick all in your guts as he pistons his hips wildly. your breast jiggle to each rough thrusts as you grope on them, eyes rolled to the back of your head.

letting his eyes trail down, he fixates on the way the grinding of his dick at your pussy expands your lower stoa h, the shape of his cock visibly showing through your stomach. he feels an animalistic sense filter through him as your jewelry shimmers back at him, almost insultingly.

he sends a glob of spit at your pussy, landing perfectly at your clit before thumbing at it. you whine out his name, the grip on your breast tightening as your toes curl in his peripheral.

“greedy fuckin’ cunt—suckin’ me in, shit, love it when i dick you down like a whore, ain’t that right mama?” you feel his balls slap at your pussy, thrusts relentless as they bruise and bully at your cervix. you feel his tip kissing your womb and you swear you start seeing double.

“love it daddy,” you nod your head, feeling so full you felt him everywhere. your pussy latched onto his dick greedily, tears at your lash line as you hoped your grip would have him nutting quickly—you already felt your orgasm approaching but he was in a mood tonight.

the sound of your skin clapping one against another played as background noise, your wetness splurting as toji dicked you down, occasional teeth biting at your plush skin. too many different stimulations—from your g-spot being attacked relentlessly to your puffy clit being rubbed on simultaneously—had your tongue loll out in white blinding pleasure.

suddenly grabbing ahold of both your legs, toji pushes the back of your thighs towards your chest, to which you grab onto shakily, “keep em’ spread—fuck up and ‘m leaving you hanging dry, got it?”

you nod your head and when he holds onto the headboard, your voice comes out brokenly as you beg for more and more, his stroke game increasing tenfolds. he fucks into you like he’s got something to prove, occasionally grinding at specific angles that have your pierced clit rubbing at his pubic area.

his brows are cinched, matted hair sticking to his forehead, “shit—gonna cum, have my way with my pussy, mark it dirty and white with my kids. nobody will ever come this close to makin’ you feel this good, you hear me?”

truth be told, you hardly heard him, focusing instead of how your right leg shook excessively whenever he angled his hips at that angle that toyed at your spongey walls deliciously.

“best fuckin’ pussy in the world—all jewelled and pretty for daddy, shit, gonna breed it so good, have you leakin’ and swollen, full of me—y’gonna let me fuck you full, yeah?”

he goes unanswered when instead you cream on his dick, back arching as the dam breaks. you broke his rule, you’re both aware, but he cums with you—deep groan erupting from his chest as he flows his semen deep inside your womb, pulling out of your warm cave to stroke himself off atop your pierced clit, painting your pussy white of him.

“shit—what a slutty cunt, damn near snatched my soul.”

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔—dermal piercing, backshots, marijuana comsumption

“uhn uhn—don’t you stop princess, remember what i told you?”

you did in fact remember, but your arms ached as you griped tightly onto your sheets, back arched perfectly as you pushed your ass back to meet his hips.

suguru landed a firm blow to your ass, before raising his other hand to his lips, inhaling the blunt deeply before exhaling with a relaxed sigh, at the buzz that ran course in his body intertwining with your pussy enveloping his dick from top to bottom.

your ass recoiled and bounced on his pelvic area mesmerizingly, the two jewels that sat pierced in your lower back sending geto in a frenzy he knew he needed sated before he lost his composure.

the base of his dick was coated with your essence, a creamy pearly ring of slick encircling his shaft as you slide back and forth on his girth. you whined and complained, begging him to have pity on you, but he was satisfied with his things were going.

“can’t handle takin’ charge, even for a little bit? that’s mean baby, i wanna relax too,” he dragged his hand all over the smoothness of your ass, admiring your flesh as it bounced back, speaking to him in a language he felt too familiar with.

“suguru—baby please,” you beg him, tilting your head back and giving him doe eyes, never letting up on your chase to your orgasm. as quick as you attempted to set a pace, it could never match up to the way he fucked you.

the butt of his blunt began dying in his hand with how long he stared at you with red eyes. at the end of the day, you were his girl and whatever you wanted from him you got. he shakes the ash off his blunt before setting it in between his lips, freeing his hands so they can hold at your waist.

“my spoiled princess,” suguru sighs, a faint smile on his lips as he finally allows you the pleasure you searched for, hips pushing up to meet halfway to your bounce.

you moaned at how deep he was, from a single thrust, and you feel yourself melt into your mattress. your skin tacky from sweat, cheeks flushed from the sativa weed coursing through your system, you felt yourself float to cloud nine as your pussy got fucked at a sensual and deep pace.

your pussy fit his cock snuggly, swallowing him greedily and entirely, while he blew out your back. your arms stretched forward and gripped your sheets, releasing your feelings into the tightening of your fists.

toes curling in ultimate pleasure, you feel your soul leaving your body as geto lifts a leg up to the bed and angles his hips. with ease, he finds your golden spot and does you the pleasure of attacking that same area, enthralled by the tremors of your body whenever he pulls out almost entirely just to slam himself back in.

“sugu—yes, oh yes baby—so fuckin’ deep!” you moan, slipping your hand between your thighs to reach at his balls, and you cup them to massage the pair. you hear him whimper behind you, and suddenly the grip on your waist tightens.

geto throws his head back, loose hairs from his messy bun framing his hairline gracefully, “fuckin’ hell pretty, y’got the best pussy in the world—so warm and tight, shit, tryna make cum quick, aren’t ya?”

you whimper at his words, lifting up to your elbows to turn around and catch his gaze once more. backshots were a personal favorite for him ever since you’d gotten your dermals, but you both admittedly missed seeing each other’s facial expressions during sex.

geto spots your siren eyed stare, low lidded from the weed finally settling, and he drags another hit of his blunt into his lungs. he inhales deeply, before killing the blunt on his ash tray, and leans forward to plant his lips onto yours, exhaling the smoke when you part your lips.

the push forward shifts your position, and you exhale the cloud of smoke shakily. with a soft hum, geto kisses the crown of your sweaty head, his tone gentle “good girl.”

now bent over your back, his strokes turn into grinding, his dick reaching even deeper inside as it massages into areas you’d never reach on your own. your arms tremble as your head hangs low, tears building in your lash line from the pleasure built up.

the intimacy of the newfound position mixed with geto’s heavy breathing at your ears, praising you and your pussy for taking him in so well, the substance abuse clouding your senses, the knot in your stomach snaps and you flood the sheets, squirting your liquids all over yourself, him and your bed.

“thereeee we go,” geto encourages you, hips never letting up as they drag you through the highs of euphoria. he keeps fucking into you, eyes narrowed in on the way your jaw slackened and your eyes shut close, pussy pulsating around his cock desperately.

“this dick is all yours baby, cream on it and mark it yours—fuck, keep doin’ that shit, wanna be soaked in your juices—hah, yeah that’s it—there we fuckin’ go.”

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍—nipple piercings, cowgirl riding, degradation, impact play, nipple play

“you’re boring me brat—pick up the pace and quit being lazy cause i ain’t fuckin’ you,”

sukuna rested his head against his hand in an attempt to be perceived as annoyance, all four eyes casted up to your fucked out face. your glossy eyes crossed to the centre of your face as your jaw fell and had your tongue lolled out your mouth.

“is it too much for you?” sukuna mocked, barking a laugh as one of his arms reach for your derrière, roughly slapping the globe, before cupping and jiggling the flesh in his big hand.

you hear words but they hardly register as you bounce up and down his unreasonably big dick. you swear you feel him past your intestines and somewhere near your stomach, your pussy clenching tightly around him as you attempt to fuck yourself for the both of you.

your hands appear small as they hold onto his broad shoulders for stability, your head limp and jerking with each bounce on his lap.

sukuna smirks, two more of his arms coming up to pinch at both of your tits, focusing his attention on the stiff buds that pierced with gold jewelry. he tweaks at the bud, pinches and twists painfully, “i assumed a grown girl able to get her nipples pierced like a filthy whore would also be able to take my dick, but i guess i was wrong.”

you wish you could counter and disagree with his statement, prove him wrong and ride him into a whole new dimension that he’d grip onto the arms of his seat and throw his head back as he emptied loads of his semen inside your tight cunt. unfortunately for you, your thighs ached from over exhaustion as your tits were being fondled aggressively and if his fourth arm continued to thumb at your clit, you’d be cumming yet again on his dick while leaving him high and dry.

“sh—shut the fuck up,” you slur out, eyes narrowing as you try to glare at him, but they shut completely when his hand roughly slaps your cheek, head jerking to the side. shamefully, you let out a moan at the impact, the stinging feeling having your clamp tightly on his cock.

“watch your fuckin’ tone,” sukuna warns you, fingers gripping your jaw as he forces your head down to look at him. your watch him with angry eyes, and it undoubtedly turns him on when you grind your hips back and forth, almost in retaliation.

“or what?” you challenge him back, despite knowing there really wasn’t much in your favour as of now. you enjoyed being bratty because sukuna always handled your attitude correctly.

“or i’ll strap you to this seat and leave your gapin’ pussy untouched, beggin’ to cum while i have you watch me fuck somebody else. you want that?” he growls, eyes boring into yours and you know he’s being serious. you swallow your pride and roll your eyes but nod in understanding, and so he leans back into his seat. “now keep at it—still haven’t came close to cumming, selfish girl.”

in the midst of it all, you ride and hop and bounce on his monstrous cock, feeling your body being split open at the intrusion of his dick penetrating areas you were certain were unhealthy. the pain felt too pleasurable to stop, and so you greedily fucked yourself to chase another orgasm.

leaned back in his throne, he watches you in faux unimpress, lips tugging into a cocky smirk whenever he’d pull at your nipples in a way that had your body jolting. he’d shove his fingers down your throat, have your saliva lube his digits and pull them out to slap and roughly play with your tender tits.

your back arches into his chest, and you feel his tongue peek through his stomach that stretches out to lick at your erogenous zone near your navel. your oversensitive nipples begin to feel numb, and you eagerly grab ahold of the back of sukuna’s head to pull him down closer to your chest.

what could’ve gotten you in deep trouble actually turned out for the better, as sukuna pops one of your nipples in his mouth, wet tongue circling the jewelry and moaning uncharacteristically at the taste. his other arm never ceases to fail to lack attention at your other boob.

“the only impressive thing about you is that rack of yours. all plump and pretty—shit, i hate to admit it but fuckin’ hell—you have no idea how turned on i’m getting from ‘em.”

it’s still fraudkuna 4 life btw.

#stargirl★rena. #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushigro x reader #toji x reader #toji smut #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut

[miss-dollette]

Simon "Ghost" Riley is a very big boy.

So, my husband is quite a tall guy (6'4"), so I have first-hand experience of what it's like to be in a totally different atmosphere with a lover. Since Ghost is such a huge guy, I decided to write some little headcanons of what it's like to be so much smaller than him.

Anyway, who else is putting serious overtime at work for Christmas??

TW: Unedited, a little spicy, size kink.

Big boy.

Very, very, VERY big boy.

Big boy, in every way possible.

Requires half an hour of foreplay before getting to the main course. Sometimes, even that's not enough.

Hands so large they could practically wrap around the back of your skull. He'd grabs you there, sometimes, and move your head to face him as he thrusts.

His fingertips can touch the tips of each other when he wraps his fingers around your throat.

Silver scars and sores from war litter his hands, and they're calloused like hell, too. Don't worry, he'll touch you so softly you won't even notice.

His whole hand covers the entire valley of your ass and upper thigh. God forbid he uses his full strength to slap your ass 'cause you won't be surviving.

Muscular but with a layer of fat. This man doesn't miss a meal, and theirs definitely no leftovers for the next day.

Works out like a bull. Before the sun even rises, he's in the backyard, lifting 50 pound/23 kilo dumbells over and over until he's practically dead. Then comes the mini marathon he does every day. By the time you make breakfast, he's already finished his Olympic level workout routine.

Playfully flexes for you when you compliment him.

He can definitely do this to you:

He loves holding both of your hands in his palm.

Veiny forearms that are to drool for. Ugh, seeing him with rolled up sleeves...

Doesn't fit in the shower. Has to lean down to wash his hair because he's practically touching the ceiling.

Has back pain. He will lay on the floor and tell you to walk on his back to soothe his sore muscles.

Would be arrested for attempted murder if he ever tried to do a trust fall with you.

#simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #mw2 x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod mw2 #mw2 #cod mw3 #ghost x reader #call of duty #cod x reader #cod ghost #ghost cod #ghost mw2

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Simon Catches You Giving Johnny Head

Warnings: 18+, Implied Smut, Oral (Male receiving), Infidelity, Johnny being a Manipulator, Slut-Shaming, Implied Dub-Con Elements, Cum Swallowing, Stomach Bulging, Stomach Ache, Skin Irritation, Sexual Punishment, Profanity, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

Wordcount: 833 words

Simon had walked in on you giving Johnny head. And when you saw your boyfriend’s hulking silhouette take up the entire doorway, you scrambled off Johnny’s soaked shaft and looked up into Simon’s eyes with a wide, frightful stare.

Simon was immediately ready to berate you, to seeth his vengeance into you and destroy you from the inside out, but your voice came out in a tiny whisper.

“Just wanted to learn how to do it properly, Si,” you said, sniffling. Your eyes glistened and Simon couldn’t tell if it was from Johnny’s cock hitting the back of your throat or the fact you were caught in such a compromising position. “Just wanted to—“ you sobbed, lightly — “to make you feel good.”

And when you looked up at him with those puppy-dog eyes, he could almost excuse the fact that you’d been shoving his best friend’s dick down your throat for god knows how long. Or rather, that Johnny had coerced you into doing so, so eager and willing to let you – make you – guzzle his cum, filling you from the inside with thick ropes of semen.

How many times had Simon rested his hand on your stomach, unaware of the fact that remnants of another man lay just beneath his fingertips?

His blood boiled.

He knew Johnny must’ve had something to do with this. You’d never do anything of the sort without believing Simon would be okay with it, and Johnny’s silver tongue was nothing short of legend. 

He wouldn’t – couldn’t – let Mactavish off the hook, either. The image of the Scot’s hand encompassing the back of your head, pressing you down further and further onto his member, the slick noises of your tongue working his girth with his head thrown back in stolen pleasure sparked a blaze in Simon’s chest that he would put to good use.

Simon sighed. Deeply. He decided to be lenient. Merciful. 

He grabbed you by the hair and dragged you to sit between his legs as he took a chair, the object whining under two-hundred-and-odd pounds of skin, muscle and hate. 

“Let’s see,” he said, gripping you tightly with one hand, watching you writhe at the pressure and pull on your scalp like a fish on a hook. With his other hand, he unzipped his pants, lifting his hips and yanking them down to his thighs. His half-hard cock leaked with pre, weeping.

You tried to plead with him, tried looking over to Johnny for help. The latter watched, just as terrified as you, having hastily stuffed himself back into his trousers, mirroring Simon’s growing condition.

“‘Nough talk.” Simon’s voice was gruff, unlike anything you’d ever heard. His eyes were blackened, too, entirely devoid of humanity.

“Let’s see how well Johnny’s trained you, hm? Put that whore mouth and all you’ve learnt to good use.”

You were willing to do anything to make him stop looking at you like that – like he loathed you – to rid his face of his furrowed brow and hard glare. You begged to please him, told him how you could take all of him — every inch — and how you were so ready to do so.

Simon listened. He raised you.

“Seein’ as y’so keen, I’ll strike you a deal. If y’can make me cum in the next sixty seconds, I won’t punish you.”

Your core tightened. 60 seconds?! That’s it?

Simon’s gaze found Johnny, still bolted in place by the periphery of the former’s wrath.

“But if y’don’t,” he pierced his once-friend with a look that could maim, torture and destroy. Johnny swallowed, held his gaze. “I’ll just have to show you and your teacher how it’s done.”

Neither you nor Johnny could talk, run or call for help after Simon had made ample example of you, both for the numb, raw ache in the back of your throat and the fact that Simon had you working his dick more often than there seemed hours in the day, forcing you down deeper and deeper onto his length, enjoying the sensation of you choking and gagging on his tip, the back of your throat tightening around him as tears streamed down your cheeks, leaving your skin itchy and red.

You could hardly move for the weight of Simon’s loads sitting heavy in your stomach, giving you a noticeable bump that neither Simon nor Johnny could take their eyes off. He never let you spit, even when you complained that your stomach hurt, churning and filled past full with the amount of cum swimming inside you. Swallowing every drop of his semen was mandatory for your redemption, he said. 

Don’t worry, he made Johnny work, too. Whenever you’d been a good little whore for Simon, taking everything he gave you without complaint, he’d make Johnny give you the same treatment he’d coerced from you in the first place.

“Go on,” he’d say to the Scot, staring him down. “Since y’were so keen on makin’ (Y/N) do it, you’ve gotta return the favour.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

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#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley smut #cod x reader #cod smut #mw2 #mw2 x reader #ghost mw2 #cod ghost #cod ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost #mw2 ghost #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap cod #mw2 soap #soap x reader

[liketolovexx]

James Potter is easily the biggest of the three. He’s just so muscular and strong, but in a soft way. He’s got a soft layer of fat protecting his muscles, and I imagine he’s very freckled too. Not sure why. He is the epitome of a golden retriever boyfriend. He likes being the big spoon, and has an INCREDIBLE weak spot for getting his hair played with. Like, it’s literally orgasmic to him. He grew up with everything. Love, money, etc, etc, so he’s probably the touchiest (at first), and is all over you from the start. Also, I think he often forgets his strength and squeezes u too hard and you’ve gotta be like “uh.. Jamie..? You’re.. you’re kinda squeezing-“ and he just puts an arm over ur mouth like “shut up, baby. Sorry. Love you.” He’s adorable.

Remus Lupin is just a normal sized boy, and runs hot like a radiator. Honestly. He doesn’t even need all those knitted sweaters and warm coffee because he just is the embodiment of autumn warmth. He’s littered with silver scars from his lycanthropy, so when u see him naked for the first time, he’s so self conscious. He’d have his arms wrapped around himself, shielding his scars from your view, and you’ve got to prize his hands off of himself. “I’m sorry.. i know they’re not.. appealing.. it’s…” and you’re just like “woah, rem, what? You’re fucking beautiful.” You say that, and he’s yours. He’s not used to love like James is, but he’s probably the one to start getting cuddly. I imagine it’s winter and he’s reading in the common room, and ur shivering because by some miracle the fire isn’t on. He looks up from his book, admiring you for a while and then lifts up his sweater. You SHOOT underneath it and basically curl up like a cat against his bare chest. I repeat: HE IS SO FUCKING WARM. You’d probably have an ‘eternal sunshine of the spotless mind’ moment with him at the start of your relationship though. You know when Clementine is saying she always thought she was ugly and Joel starts kissing her and saying “you’re pretty, you’re pretty, you’re pretty…” yeah, you’d be Joel and he’d be Clementine. But once he’s comfortable, he’s a fucking fiend. You’ll never be cold again, trust me.

Sirius Black is skinny and pale. Like a vampire. Endearingly. I imagine he has a nose piercing and an eyebrow piercing, and he’s all tattooed up. Will DEFINITELY get your initial on his abdomen or collarbone in swirly penmanship. Sirius will act like your best friend even when u two are dating. Bless him though, he’s so used to being hurt and abused by those that are meant to protect him that he can’t trust you at first. I think the first time he came to realise you were different is when you asked him what happened after winter break at his parent’s house, because he was being really quiet and flinching a lot which is unlike him. You cornered him in the common room when no one else was there, and asked him “hey, Siri? What’s going on, man? Tell me.” He insisted, “I’m fine. I swear, sweetheart.” You went to tuck his black curls behind his ear but he flinched, which shattered your heart. You said “Sirius, please. I need to know you’re okay, because I need you safe.” And hearing that, he broke down into your arms. From then on, he’s always in your arms. He adores comforting you, because he’s a big brother himself and so he has the instinct, you know? But man, does he fucking adore being in your arms. He WILL curl up beside you wherever you’re sitting or lying, and is always rubbing against you. He always says “I can’t help it, babe, it’s just the dog in me.” Which he seems to find HILARIOUS. Oh yeah, and he literally can’t sleep unless you’re the big spoon or his head is on your chest or in your neck. He likes to feel safe and protected for once, and you do that for him to no end. He’s THE 70s rocker stereotype, and he loves having matching nail polish with you. You’re best friends as well as lovers.

Sorry for yapping to no end guys!!!

#sirius black x reader #Sirius black prompt #james potter x reader #James potter prompt #remus lupin x reader #Remus Lupin prompt #marauders x reader #the marauders #sirius black scenario #james potter scenario #remus lupin scenario #Sirius black💌*~ #Remus Lupin💌*~ #James potter💌*~

[drak3n]

PARAMEDIC!SUGURU

CONTENT WARNINGS: fluff, smut, strangers to lovers trope, reader passes out, ambulances, sutures, blood, soft!suguru

sena’s note: i’m so down bad for jjk men i don’t have any words… i’m tweaking rn just thinking about suguru in paramedic gear—

MINI-SERIES MASTERLIST

➩ PARAMEDIC!SUGURU who was just about to call it a night with his coworker and drive back to the fire station to be relieved by the night shift, but held back a groan when a call came in

➩ PARAMEDIC!SUGURU who was told that a lady in her twenties had passed out and hit her head while at work, and who forgot all about after hours as his colleague drove towards the workplace at full speed with blasting sirens

➩ PARAMEDIC!SUGURU who rushed inside the building of the given address — a restaurant — with his colleague, paramedic backpack draped over his shoulder to be fetched by the shift supervisor who had made the call

“i don’t know how it happened... she was prepping in the back along with another worker and i suddenly heard clattering. when i checked, she was passed out and bleeding all over the floor.”

suguru’s amber eyes narrowed at the way the man explained the situation, and he left it to his colleague to register the workplace’s and your data while he entered the back to see you seated on a chair, weakly holding a cloth against your profusely bleeding forehead.

“ma’am, i’m here to help. may i check?” his voice was mellow and smooth, and you lowered your shaking arm to let his gloved hand check beneath the cloth. you were barely able to sit, yet, you looked at your coworker with exhausted eyes. “i’m okay... why did you call the ambulance…? he’s probably mad now.”

“you’ll need stitches for that wound,” he informed you, which made you sigh shakily as you gazed up at the tall man. all you saw was a blurred, tall silhouette wearing a vibrant, red uniform that stung your eyes, and a bun of dark, long hair. “my colleague will be here with a stretcher. could you look at me for a quick second?”

long, gloved fingers gently lifted your chin to check your pupillary response with an ophthalmoscope, discovering that your pupils were unusually dilated. high chance of a concussion. when you heard a stretcher rolling inside the room, you let out a confused hum.

“i—i can walk,” you slurred, accompanied by the supervisor also annoyingly confirming that there was no need for the stretcher. suguru quirked a brow at your supervisor, beckoning his colleague closer with the stretcher.

“there absolutely is a need for that,” he countered, “now kindly back away, sir.” his tone was warning, and the older man hesitantly stepped away while the two paramedics lifted you off the chair carefully to lay you down on the stretcher, securing you as you gazed up with blank, confused eyes.

geto stayed in the back with you during the drive to the hospital, and he made sure to check your vitals and ask you questions to make out the severity of your concussion and to see how well you responded.

➩ PARAMEDIC!SUGURU who found it endearing that you insisted for him to hold your hand throughout the ride because you had never been in an ambulance and it was scary and cold

➩ PARAMEDIC!SUGURU whose eyes didn’t leave your form until you were brought into a treatment room, barely able to let go of your hand

➩ PARAMEDIC!SUGURU who only noticed at the fire station after clearing out the ambulance that there was a silver necklace with your initial in a corner, a necklace he was sure he had seen on you before you were transferred into the ambulance

➩ PARAMEDIC!SUGURU who despite having just gotten off an excruciating 12-hour shift and wanting to have nothing more to do with hospitals for the day, found himself heading back towards the hospital you’d been delivered to

➩ PARAMEDIC!SUGURU who saw you sitting in the hallway, waiting for your CT scans with a bandage around your treated head, and who approached you in civilian attire

➩ PARAMEDIC!SUGURU who returned the necklace to you and helped you put it on, waiting for your results with you while you were still quizzed as to why he was with you, still clearly confused

➩ PARAMEDIC!SUGURU who drove you home because you had no one to pick you up, and who accompanied you all the way to your door; who didn’t leave without taking your number to check on you

➩ PARAMEDIC!SUGURU who really did check in with you very frequently until you were feeling better again, and who was positively surprised to see you at the same hospital again a week later to get your stitches removed

“does this scar make me look goofy? be honest.”

suguru took your hand to stop you from touching the scarred and still sensitive tissue, giving you a soft smile. “no, it just puts a little badass in your adorable self,” he chuckled. your eyes went wide as you looked away bashfully.

“are you off work now?” suguru tilted his head down to look at you, you wouldn’t meet his eyes. cute. “i am. just need to head back to the station and get changed. why?”

“i’m really hungry. you wanna grab food?”

➩ PARAMEDIC!SUGURU who never failed to kiss the scar on your forehead, grazing his fingertips against the imperfectly perfect feature on your face, and who got heart eyes whenever you shyly showed him how much you love him

➩ PARAMEDIC!SUGURU who always subconsciously shielded your head from possible danger; who covered your head with his hand while opening cupboards close to you, or who always covered the edge of a table with his palm when you bent over to pick something up; and who despite being so caring, couldn’t help but poke a little fun at you

“you okay like this, angel?” a shuddered whimper left your lips as you got settled on top of your tall, handsome boyfriend who was laid on his back. plush thighs straddling his sides, you relished in the feeling of him inside of you.

he didn’t move an inch. all he did was stare into your eyes and cradle your face in his warm hands. all you wanted was to show suguru that you were a big girl, that you could take it, that you were—

“i—it’s—,” you moaned into his hand, your own clammy palms shooting forward to clutch at his toned stomach, “y—you’re so mean, sugu! you promised not to move!” his long strands of jet black hair bounced when he chuckled heartily. he couldn’t help it.

“i can’t help it when i’m inside the prettiest girl in the world,” he mumbled against your lips, capturing your lips in a greedy kiss that swallowed your moans. “want me to take over? all you have to do is ask.”

your begging eyes were enough for him to flip you over.

tagged: @melancholia-k @tansyfleurwhisper

#jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru smut #geto x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #geto smut #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jjk x reader smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x y/n #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x reader fluff #jjk geto #jjk geto x reader #jjk suguru #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk

[neo-percs]

CAR SEX:: ( day 16 )

WARNING:: Street racer! sunghoon, street racer, fem!Reader, praise, hair pulling, fingering, finger sucking,dirty talking, dacryphilia, riding.

SUMMARY:: after winning tonight's street race it was unethical for police to chase after the rowdy crowds, Sunghoon doesn't expect for his opponent to cover for his ass.

WORDCOUNT:: 4.3K

A/N:: repost from my old account.

Engines were revving on the black asphalt, rap music playing throughout different car speakers and the bright-colored headlights flashed down on the women wearing short, revealing, yet stylish outfits, and men who wore baggy clothes, snapbacks, and most up-to-date shoes.

Your car was parked at the starting line as you finish waiting for the next racer to pull up. The sound of a deep rumbling engine made you turn your head. A bright green car with green LED lights under it, the painted dragon.

The windows were not tinted yet it was hard to see who was in the driver's seat. People clearing the path for the car to easily make it through and reach the red spray-painted finish line.

Once the car pulls into the space next to you behind the sloppy drawn red line the driver's door is pushed open, and you could see a pair of shoes pop out and then ahead from behind the door. Standing at his full height you could see a blonde tall boy, with messy hair,  with an intimidating face. He was wearing baggy black cargo jeans, a tank top matching showing off his buff arms, and a small silver chain on his neck.

You turn to look at the man who was running the racing stipulation for the night. You sat on the hood of your car not daring to turn your head. "Tonight you're racing, for 10,000 dollars. At the end whoever makes it from here and around the corner and back to this red line wins. Now I got a good surprise at the end so be ready" the man spoke, he had an Afro with a comb sticking out on the side.

You nod your head "so we're all putting down 2,000?" One of the other men said sitting on his golden hood "yeah, and if you can't give that much you ain't racing" the man said, holding his hand out. You pull a small stack of money out of your butt pocket and push yourself off the hood of the car. Walking up to the man hand off the cash.

As you turned around you met with the buff chest of the blonde man, stopping in your tracks you could see him tower over you. His brown eyes look at yours as he lifts his arm to hand off the cash. "Enough heart eyes get in your cars," the man said, making you smile and shake your head pushing the blonde by his shoulder to walk past him.

You walk to the driver's side door feeling the eyes of the sunghoon burn through your figure as you open the door and rest and hand on the hood as you lean down to sit against the furry seat cover. You lift your legs, let them rest on the car floor and shut the door.

You push your keys into the ignition and your engine rev. The crowd jumped a bit seeing a flame spill from the exhaust pipe. The man with the Afro began waving the crowd to back up. "That's right back yall asses up before you get grilled" he shouted seeing the men and women move away from the street and onto the curb and wide walk.

The other men that were also competing in the race began to get inside their cars and rev their engines. A woman in a crop top and some baggy jeans that rested on her hips walked in front of the cars. "First one here and around the block back wins," she said loudly over the engines "ready?!" She asked with a smile growing on her plump red lips. She flipped her black curly hair over her shoulder raising her arm. The cheers of the crowd got louder as the revving became louder.

"Go!" She shouted, dropping her arm. You press your foot on the gas, shifting your gear into the sport and watching how the speedometer moves. The small arrows on your indicator shoot from 10 to 80 as your gear shifts, the wind pushes pressure into the air as you speed up, and although cars were shooting past you, you were in no rush.

"Just wait" you mumble pushing the gas harder going from 80 to 110 speeding past silver and blue glowing cars decorated with LED's and stickers, you switch lanes making the car behind you try to speed up and unconventionally bump the back of your bumper.

You growl looking into your mirror seeing the blonde with a small smirk on his plump lip, the look on his face drives you to speed up to 200, smoke coming from your tires from how hard your tires rubbed against the gravel on the road.

your eyes flicker back onto the road ahead of you as you go onto an empty road one of your hands leaves the wheel to press the button on the radio and turn up the volume. The rap music puts you back into your racing headspace. The bass was vibrating your whole car.

Seeing the other cars go speed up closer to you and sunghoon made you narrow your eyes through the mirror. Meanwhile, sunghoon sat idly in his car shoe pressed against the gas hard as sweat began to slowly Pearl on his forehead.

The empty streets make it easier as you speed through your engine waking up the neighborhood. As soon as you turn the corner you see a bridge which was a straight shot to the finish line.

"Woah,'' Sunghoon says at your sharp turn speeding down the back streets, nearing the familiar crowd, your car drifting and leaving skid marks on the dirt and asphalt making one more sharp turn and drifting before seeing the crowds that were forming at the finish line.

You hear another engine rumble behind you, your heart was practically beating out of your chest, and you felt dizzy. You see the green color of sunghoon's car in the corner of your eye which makes you scoff.

Just as you had officially left the speed from the 100s to the 200s as you rolled your eyes as you saw him wave with an easy grin. You both speed side by side, looking onto the road trying to steer as the cool leather wheel gripped with your sweating palms.

You stepped on the gas as hard as you could and once you had made it closer to the bridge you could see it lifting on both sides opening a  bit down the middle. You slow down whispering to yourself "this is bullshit" but when you saw the green car speed past you and fly over the bridge's gap you realized the race was still on.

You press the gas hard in hopes that even taking this jump you would win in the end. Once you feel how light your car is speeding over the gap between the bridge you could feel your heart pounding out of your chest as you scream.

Your car jerks as your tires hit the ground, your front bumper hitting the road and falling off with a 'clunking' sound, you groaned. Pressing the gas and shifting gears your car began to catch the wind of sunghoon.

But once your cars were close enough to the finish line you could see how sunghoon pressed harder on the gas passing you making you feel your face heat up in anger seeing as his two front tires touch the red line before yours.

"Shit" you curse under your breath passing the red line with a bitter mood. Stopping a few feet behind him seeing how he stepped out of the car to be crowded by people cheering him on. Pulling your keys out of the ignition you get out of the car walking in front of it to see how bad your front bumper looks.

"That's gonna cost a pretty penny, right?" You hear coming close behind you with the sound of shoes pattering on the concrete. "I fix my cars so no, not really," you say snarking, turning to look at sunghoon who stood over you holding out your money.

You snatch it out of his hand "I didn't need it back but I'll take it" you say with a grin as you stuff the folded money into your pocket. "You're welcome," he says, cocking his head to the side. You were about to respond but the sound of police sirens made your eyes widen.

You look at the blonde male "we gotta go now or they're gonna bust our asses" you say grabbing his wrist and pushing him to the passenger side of your car. "What about my car?" He asked worriedly, opening the door and tossing himself into the seat shaking the car.

" Your keys are still in there, someone's gonna take care of it, don't worry I'll figure out who," you say opening your side of the door and tossing yourself into the seat and the both of you slamming your doors shut.

Twisting your key that was still in the ignition you shift in reverse backing out the crowd and shifting gears into driving your foot stomps on the gas in hopes that no police car follows. And unfortunately for you, a cop had managed to follow you halfway around the city.

You had made it onto the highway, and because it was so late in the night there were barely any cars. But fortunately for you and the buff man in the seat next to you, once you had switched lanes in front of a semi-truck the police had lost sight of you which gave you the chance to take the interstate closest to your left and turn on a dense road.

Once you had been set back on an empty road with nothing but empty grocery store parking lots you had decided it would be best to cool off and stay there for a while until the cops stop searching the area.

Once you found a parking space closest to the middle of the lot you had to turn the car off and shut off the headlights. The lights of the storefront logo emit deep shades of red and blue. Your back was pressed to the seat as your head pulled back with exhaustion.

Your head drops to the side of your shoulder as you look over at sunghoon with curious eyes. When he felt your eyes burning into him he couldn't help but meet your gaze "what? Why are you looking at me like that?" He asked with a smile plaguing his lips as his eyes narrowed.

"Nothing, you just- seem so calm for a guy who just won 10,000 dollars and went on a police chase with some random girl" is all you say shrugging your shoulders and hearing the fabric of your shirt rub against the fur-covered seat. "Well you keep looking at me like that and see where it gets you," he says as he shifts around in his seat.

"And where will that get me?" You ask, leaning onto the middle console and staring at his side profile with low eyes."You think you're funny?" He asks, arching his brow at you. Biting your lip to hide your smirk "the funniest" you rasp as you let him see the smile settled on your plump lips. "Yeah?" He asks leaning in closer "definitely" you answer back.  "God damnit" he whispered, turning to lean over the console as well cupping your jaw and pulling you into a rough kiss.

Your teeth clash as you leave open mouths kissed against each other, his lips were soft and warm. your hand moves from gripping the seat cover to running through his blonde locks. Your eyes fluttered shut as well as his making you tug on his tresses earning you a small groan.

Your lips trace each other to the point you wouldn't break from the kiss until your lungs screamed for air making you pull away. Sunghoon didn't care to catch his breath, he began leaving kisses down your neck sucking small red spots that would soon swell over into bruises in all kinds of shades from purple, blue, and red.

His hand that once touched your jaw was now clutched on your waist. He was high off just the sound of the small moans and little puffs of air you let out of your mouth while he continued to lick and suck harshly against your neck. "Fuck, you're so cute" he whispered looking up at you with soft brown eyes and his pupils blown in adoration.

he can't help but to reach out and rub the callused pad of his thumb over your parting lips, pressing the salty digit flat against your tongue, and retreating it in the same breath to hook it around your cheek. Pulling it away with a soft pop a small groan leaves his lips as he lets his mind wander.

The hold you had on him was tight and you didn't even know it, it was like you were a love-sick Anaconda and with that, your grip on him had become almost deadly. He felt like he was choking up his words because his mind was too clouded by the feeling of your skin on his.

His hand's grip on your thigh wanting to pull you in his lap, your knee knocking against the console as you shudder at the feeling on his teeth, and plump lips dragging against your skin that he had marked as his for the night. "Sit in my lap" he mumbled in hopes of wanting to fulfill whatever raunchy fantasy you had been living at the moment.

Pulling back you see the small grin on his lips from how disheveled you had looked. Your chest was rising and falling in an uneven battle of tug of war with your lungs. You sit up on your knees trying your best to climb over the console that had been in the way.

You had let yourself straddle over his thighs that took up a portion of the seat- yet it wasn't like you were complaining. The pad of his thumbs found their way under your shirt and rubbed gentle circles on your bare hip as he continued his assault on your neck as if he was a painter letting the hickeys become his paint and your neck and chest were the blank canvas he needed to douse in color.

His palms pushed into your hips as he trails small pecks up your neck and jaw, you felt like you were in a state of euphoria the way your eyes soften looking into his gaze. Your mind was in such a haze you hadn't realized the both of you were mindlessly grinding against each other.

No matter the tight space you had yet to let that affect you. Your noses brush against each other and you could feel sunghoon's breath on your face, your hand finds its way to his hair pulling him in by the back of his head until your lips trace his. The sound of heavy breathing and clothing rustling around in the passenger seat of the car was the only thing that could be heard.

Your hips began to slowly begin to move as your ass pushed down on the bulge poking his pants "feels so good" he mumbled against your lips as he let out a small moan. His hands grip the back of your thighs as he puffs out shaky breaths. "Can you lift your skirt for me?" He asked nicely, you could only comply. Your stomach churned hearing the way he asked.

You murmur out a small 'yes' as your hand gets a grip on the hem line bunching it over your hips and you slide your shoes off as well as your panties. sunghoon's eyes connect to your pussy that was aching and covered in slicked-up arousal. "All this from kissing? damn," he groaned to himself.

You press yourself down on him, feeling the fabric of his pants against your throbbing core makes you whimper. "Open your mouth," he says, this time it wasn't so polite. Your jaw slacks a bit and you stick out your warm tongue seeing how his eyes darken and almost made you moan.

Bringing his hand up to your face his middle and ring finger pressed against your tongue making you close your mouth a suck. sunghoon could feel your tongue swirl around his fingers while the both of you make direct eye contact. He felt like he could flush under your gaze and melt from the view of your face alone.

You moan against his fingers as you continue to jut your hips and feel pleasure jolt through your body sending shivers down sunghoon's spine. Pulling his thick fingers past your lips. You lift your hips seeing how his hand gets lost between your plush thighs.

Rubbing the pads of his fingers against your entrance that was already soaking, teasing your slit feeling you clench around nothing alone just from friction made sunghoon throb in his boxers. he moaned into you before easing his finger passed your entrance. the added stimulation had you mewling.

You hiss at the stretch as sunghoon adjusted himself in the seat and reached his opposite hand between to push the seat back enough to have him leaning back and watching the perfect view of you perched in his lap.

"I didn't think you were the type to let people you meet in the same night fuck you," he said as he let his finger slip deeper inside your clenching walls. "I guess you're just lucky" you moaned, feeling him pump in and out of your sopping pussy with an all too loud squelching sound.

Your hand grabs needly at his shirt hoping for more pleasure. "More- please" you whimper as your hips twitch with pleasure. I mean who was he to oppose the idea of getting you off? He did as asked pushing his other finger at your entrance hoping you would loosen even just a bit "why are you so fucking tight?" he moaned as he feels you practically suck in his fingers. He pushes them deep enough to touch his knuckles, your slick created small strings against his fingers each time he'd stuff you full of his fingers.

It felt just so right— the way the cold metal of his rings pushed against your slit as he sped up his pace. Your sticky walls could feel every last part of his thick fingers that could make you quiver "fuck- fuck" you moaned as your fingers bunch up the fabric of his shirt.

the beginning of your orgasm begins to build deep in your stomach. "your fingers... feel so good, fuck," you moan. He smiles at you, beginning to curl his fingers instead. "fuck!" you gasp. "Keep doing that, oh god," you moan, gripping his sheets as you try rolling your hips. He smirks at you, moving them slightly faster.

You could feel yourself coming closer to the painstaking orgasm and all you could do was moan and let your eyes pinch closed. "Open your eyes, I wanna see the look on your face when you cum" he says as his fingers repeatedly pound into the spot that made your legs shake and your back arch.

"I'm gonna cum! please let me cum" you whimper as your hands shake. You had opened your eyes to be met with the view of sunghoon and his blonde hair sticking to his forehead with a sheen of sweat on his body, he only nodded his head and let out a small 'mhm' giving you the green light. You felt the pleasure spillover as you cum "oh my god" you moan as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Your release drips down his fingers and palm as you grind against his fingers. Slowly you inch away from his fingers as small thin white strings of slick cum keep the both of you connected.

Your breathing was slightly off-putting the way you felt him pull his fingers out of your silky walls slowly making you feel empty. You felt dizzy just off of that. But you knew there was more to come when sunghoon began to fiddle with the button and zipper on his jeans.

His happy trail that touched his naval down to the base of his dick became prominent as his fingers dug to pull down his briefs as well as his pants letting them fall to his knees and his dick breathing freely in the warm air of the car.

The windows began to fog over as the red and blue hues from the market front shop sign had become even brighter on your skin.

He was hard, and his tip shined with precum at his soft blushed head, his slit leaking with arousal. The sight alone made you rub your thighs together as that incessant warmth between your legs became stronger and stronger.

you wet the palm of your hands with your tongue before taking his dick into your fist, slowly jerking and teasing the tip with your thumb. His hips buck as he let out a small wince at the sudden contact on his shaft.

You arch your back as you push his tip against your slit rubbing it against your clit that had been covered in a mix of your release and arousal. You push his tip in feeling how your ridged walls clenched from just his tip.

sunghoon tossed his head back against the seat hearing a small 'thump' in return. His jaw was clenched tightly making his jaw look narrow and sharp. "Fuck" he groaned loudly letting his hands grip at your ass as you ease down his shaft until your ass pressed against his pelvic bone.

You felt like you were stuffed, sunghoon sat up until your chests touched. He slowly began guiding your hips to bounce repeatedly at a set pace. The way you sink into him was addictive. Your hands move back to grip at his hair, you tug and pull with each bounce.

"You feel so good" you whisper into his ear, sunghoon could feel his eyes roll to the back of his head from just hearing you talk dirty. He began to thrust into you setting a faster pace. You moan at the feeling of his thick shaft rubbing against your silky walls and his tip practically kissing your cervix.

His nails began to dig into the fat off your ass as he continued to let you bounce in his lap, the sound of your moans and the creaking of the car was all sunghoon's ears could pick up on with his foggy and fucked out mind.

He was drunk on the feeling of you wrapped around his cock like this and it felt amazing. You whispered heavy 'please' for him to go harder as you rut yourself against his base.

A small ring of white began to drip from his base as his thighs hit yours as he continued to pound into you harder. You feel hazy as you moan your hand slides against the window leaving a slippery print.

You clenching down on down on sunghoon kept his mind set on doing one thing, and that was making you cum all over him. Your hair bounced with every hard thrust he delivered to you sweetly. His hand found its way to your hair gripping at your tresses making your eyes water at the pleasure and pain.

"Fuck, you look so damn good when you cry" he choked out along with a whimper as his tip practically bullied at your cervix. The twist in your stomach made you realize that you were close "I'm so close!" You had moaned feeling your walls spasm around him sunghoon began to thrust into you faster as he felt that same feeling bubbling up inside of him.

From any onlooker, the way he pounded into you could make it seem like a pornstar was just doing child's play. He couldn't help but let out a string of curses and moans "fuck, fuck" he groaned feeling how you squeezed down on him letting your orgasm wash over you.

The sweet moan you let out pushed him over the edge as he let his cum paint you white on the inside. He could feel you throbbing and his cum spilling past your walls. He couldn't help but thrust deeper into you fucking his cum deeper inside you.

Your hips are shaking with overstimulation. You couldn't even put together a coherent sentence. You just let him fuck you dumb. Your whimpers fall on deaf ears as he lets you rest against his chest.

"it's okay, just take your time" he whispered into your ears kissing your temple repeatedly as you let your eyes heavily fall closed. His lips turn into a smile as he feels nothing but a haze wash over him. Leaning into him your nose brushing over his and your lips pressing small pecks to his, your hand on his jaw.

He's stealing your breath, and inhaling all the sweet little sounds you make, swiping his tongue to get a taste of your lip balm before it's completely kissed away. You're smiling against his mouth, you can't help it, giggling lightly at the feel of his breath fanning over your kiss-swollen lips.

"You wanna lend me some cash to fix my car?" You huff jokingly, "I just won 10,000 dollars, I think I can spare you some" he laughs breathily. God he felt like he was in heaven.

#𖦹—( neo percs ) #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon hard thoughts

[steventhusiast]

STWG prompt 20/4/24

prompt: accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss

pairing/character(s): steddie

i somehow wrote 1.8k... enjoy

. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Steve doesn’t think he’s ever been this distracted by a customer before at work. He’s just so… hot. Like, the usual customers he serves are rich and well-dressed, sure. But they’re businessmen well-dressed, and that can’t even begin to describe this particular customer. He’s been calling him Hot Guy in his head for the past thirty minutes.

Hot Guy is in a suit, yes, but that’s not even the best part of this man’s look. The suit’s all black and hugs his waist deliciously, but it’s everything else that has Steve practically drooling where he stands by the bar, waiting for his next round of drinks to be made. Hot Guy looks a little less pristine and perfect than the usual businessmen; his hairs up in a messy ponytail, strands of a fringe framing his face, and he has beautiful silver earrings on and an expensive looking chain around his neck. And every time he moves just so, Steve gets to see a peek of a tattoo on his chest as his half-unbuttoned black shirt moves. Gorgeous…

“All ready for you, Steve.”

He’s snapped out of it by the bartender on shift, and looks at the bar to see, oh yes, all of his drinks are ready. He offers the bartender a smile and a thank you, and gets to balancing them on his serving tray.

See, he can get a little distracted by hot customers, but he can’t be seen as a slacker. He cannot afford to lose this job.

He and Robin finally were able to move to Chicago four months ago, and it took him three months (and a good chunk of his emergency savings) to find a job as a waiter at some restaurant. It’s not even a particularly nice job. Sure, the restaurant is fancy as hell, and the customers tip really fucking well, but the pay leaves much to be desired. Like, a usual customer (rich) tips him more than he gets paid for a whole shift! And he’s not complaining about the tips, per say, but when the restaurant’s clientele can tip that much… surely the restaurant can afford to pay their workers a decent wage!

Just as he manages to balance the drinks on his tray, he notices his newest co-worker, Danny, fiddling with his own collection of drink glasses. Danny looks awfully shifty as he glances over his shoulder at a table and then takes a small sachet out of his pocket, tears a corner and pours it into one of the wine glasses.

Steve’s eyes narrow at the action. What the fuck?

Over the last week of Danny working at the restaurant, he has thought him to be unpleasant at best and suspicious at worst. The one time Steve tried to make conversation with him, just asking where he worked before there, he got a glare and a clipped comment about not getting personal. Now that he thinks about it, Steve doesn’t even know Danny’s last name.

He watches Danny pick up the tray, do a final glance around the restaurant (either not perceiving Steve as a threat or not seeing him stood five feet away), and walks toward the table area.

And he’s not saying Danny would poison a customer. He’s not saying that, because that is insane. But. What’s the alternative? That Danny got a request to put, like, powdered vitamins in someone’s drink? It’s just shifty that’s all!

And, like he said, he can’t afford to lose this job.

That includes if it gets shut down for becoming a murder scene. Or him accidentally abetting a murder by not doing anything!

What does he even do? He’s going to look genuinely insane, whether he's right or wrong.

Danny reaches a table (it’s the table Hot Guy is seated at) with his tray, and plasters on a customer service smile as he starts dishing out the drinks. Steve keeps an eye on the (possibly) tainted wine glass as Danny puts it down in front of- in front of Hot Guy. Shit.

Steve’s heart starts speeding up as he watches Hot Guy pick up the wine glass, inspecting it and giving it a little swirl before starting to lift it, and- fuck it.

Steve bolts over to the table, definitely knocking over another server’s tray as he goes, and has to shove the wine glass out of Hot Guy’s hand to stop whatever’s about to happen.

The liquid splashes onto Hot Guy’s chest (Steve hopes the poison isn’t, like, corrosive), then the glass shatters to the floor, and Steve’s left heaving as he catches his breath. Not from the exercise, but from the adrenaline rush. Because Steve is- oh god, he’s in Hot Guy’s lap.

He scrambles to stand up, cheeks bright red, and chances a glance at Danny. On the surface, Danny looks shocked and apologetic to the rest of the businessmen at the table, but Steve sees his right eye twitch and his ears start to tint red. Okay. So. Even if he looks crazy, maybe he made a good move.

He looks back toward Hot Guy only to find that he’s already being watched with an inquisitive gaze. The man still has his hand held up like he’s holding the wine glass still, and he has one (perfectly manicured) eyebrow raised at Steve. Steve feels his cheeks heat up even more under his attention.

“I am so sorry, sir.” Steve finds himself blurting out, but Hot Guy just shakes his head at him, oddly calm.

“I’ll get you another drink, Mr Munson.” Danny says, giving Steve a pointed glare before walking away.

Hot Guy- No. Mr Munson looks like he’s about to say something, but Steve needs to get him somewhere he can tell him what happened away from other people and before Danny tries it again, so he boldly puts a hand on the man’s shoulder. The possibility of looking crazy be damned.

“Let me help you get cleaned up, sir.”

Mr Munson considers him for a moment more, and then nods. Maybe he sees the frantic, anxious look in Steve’s expression, or maybe he just wants to yell at Steve outside of the view of his assumed co-workers.

"I'll be right back. Don't talk business without me." Mr Munson addressed his table before following him off.

Steve leads him to the customer toilets, and then takes him to the staff hallway just behind them. Mr Munson’s eyebrows raise at that, and at the serious expression on Steve’s face.

“Sir, I’m so sorry for that, but I… This is going to sound insane, but I think my co-worker poisoned your drink.”

He levels Mr Munson with a serious expression as he speaks, trying to negate the craziness of what he’s saying by showing he’s not joking. Through doing so, of course, Steve also gets the chance to get a better look at Mr Munson’s face, which is just… like he said earlier, gorgeous. And that’s not even talking about the deep brown of his eyes.

Mr Munson doesn’t even flinch at Steve’s words, just looks down at the wine on his shirt with a vague look of disgust.

“I see.”

He doesn’t sound surprised. What the fuck? Who is this man?

“You don’t seem shocked.” Steve finds himself saying, and then his eyes widen and he smacks a hand over his mouth, “Ignore me! I don’t want to get involved in any, um. Not crimes. I’m going to stop talking now.”

As he keeps talking, Mr Munson’s face contorts into an amused smile, and his gaze wanders over Steve’s form, then back up to his eyes. When Steve’s done rambling, the man laughs.

“No. I’m not shocked.” Is all Mr Munson says, “But unfortunately, you are involved now, sweetheart.”

Steve feels the colour drain from his face at the words and the serious tone Mr Munson speaks them in, but before he can even squeak (or scream) in response, the Staff Only door slams open, and Steve is greeted with two pistols pointed at him.

Then he squeaks. And puts his hands up in a surrender position, even though the two men glaring at him don’t look like police officers. They’re wearing suits, like they’re customers of the restaurant. And they completely ignore Steve in favour of scanning over Mr Munson.

Holy shit. What the fuck is his life? Robin will never believe him when he gets home. If he gets home.

“Put the guns down, boys.” Mr Munson says from beside Steve, and then (gently) puts his hands on Steve’s arms to push them back down to his sides, “No need for all that, sweetheart.”

“Sorry, Eddie. We thought- you just disappeared, and we heard glass shattering, so-” One of the gunmen says, stumbling through his words slightly.

“We thought you’d been kidnapped. Again.” The other says, looking unimpressed.

Eddie rolls his eyes, and Steve notes how he hasn’t removed his hands from him yet.

“I’ve been told that- sorry, sweetheart, what’s your name?” Eddie starts, maintaining eye contact with Steve only.

Sweetheart. Kill him now. How is his dick still working in these conditions, and why is 'sweetheart' doing it for him? Maybe it's more to do with Eddie himself than the word...

“Steve.” He squeaks out.

“Right. Steve, here, thinks my drink was poisoned by his co-worker. He’s the culprit for the glass, and this,” Eddie gestures to his wet shirt, “and then he took me here to clean me up.”

“What’s the name of this co-worker?” One of the gunmen ask Steve, voice intense, and when Steve just blinks at him he takes a step forward like he’s about to put a hand on him. Steve can’t help his flinch in response.

Which Eddie apparently feels, given the way he tsks at his men and takes a step back, pulling Steve with him.

“No threatening my possible saviour, Jeffy. This isn’t an interrogation.”

“His- His name’s Danny. I don’t know a last name.” Steve says finally, and gulps when Eddie rubs his thumbs back and forth where his hands are still on him.

“Good boy.” Eddie says softly, and Steve can’t help the shudder that runs through him.

Okay. It's confirmed. Apparently being mildly traumatised by guns doesn’t stop him from getting horny. Good to know. Hopefully Eddie doesn't notice how red he's gotten again.

Eddie finally lets go of him to step toward his men.

“You heard the man. Gareth, go get a sample of the wine that spilled on the floor and figure out if Stevie here is right, and Jeff, go tell everyone else who we’re looking for and find Danny.”

The two gunmen leave with their orders, and Eddie turns back to Steve. He’s looking at Steve with that intense gaze once again, eyes dragging down to his beat-up Reeboks and back up to his dishevelled face.

“Now, how can I reward you for probably saving my life, sweetheart?”

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie drabble #steve harrington #eddie munson #this got away from me so bad it's 1.8k words at least #stwgdailyprompt #dailydrabble #mywriting

[babyleostuff]

18+ minors dni

this man would love to get his cock sucked after a gym session, like it would be the perfect way to end his day and get rid of all the tension in his body.

he’d send you a photo right after lifting weights, his arms big and bulky, knowing very well how horny you’d get just by looking at that picture. but that’s a win for him, because it meant you’d be all wet and ready when he comes home.

the second he’d step a foot inside your apartment, you’d drag him by the waistband of his boxers that were peaking from underneath his sweats, pulling him to the living room.

you’d quickly push him onto the sofa, where he would cockily spread his legs, inviting you to take your place between them. and if you weren’t desperate for him by then, seeing him all confident and cocky, with an annoying smirk on his face, and the silver chain around his thick neck, that definitely made you leak through your panties.

he’d be so vocal too, loud grunts and soft curses leaving his mouth, as you lick the tip of his leaking cock. he wouldn’t waist any time, and grab your hair in his fist to guide your head down his thick shaft, not giving much thought to the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes.

and it would be messy, drool practically leaking from the corners of your mouth, mixed with the tears that managed to escape, and the sounds of you gagging, as mingyu pushed your head further down. it'd be all so deliciously erotic, every ounce of your soft and puppy like boyfriend gone.

with you free hands, thanks to mingyu who basically used your mouth to fuck himself, you'd sneak one hand under your his shirt to pinch your nipple, just like your boyfriend would usually do, and tease your clit with the other.

as his thrusts began to become more sloppy and his grunt were getting louder, you knew he wouldn't last long, and you could feel your own orgasm approach, as you were riding your own fingers, missing the feeling of mingyu's thick and long ones.

"swallow," he'd say through his gritted teeth, cumming a few seconds later.

can you tell how much he fucked me up with that photo?

#seventeen #seventeen reactions #seventeen imagines #svt reactions #seventeen x you #seventeen x reader #seventeen kpop #seventeen carat #seventeen reaction #seventeen scenarios #mingyu #kim mingyu #seventeen smut #mingyu smut #mingyu x y/n #mingyu x you #mingyu imagines #mingyu x oc #mingyu x reader #mingyu seventeen #mingyu reactions #svt mingyu

[kquil]

JAMES POTTER | 04:01 ⏤ALWAYS SAFE

SUM. : you bring james his lunch that you cooked yourself and almost get injured

G. : fluff ; modern au ; muggle au ; ice hockey player james ; girlfriend reader ; very angry james ; protective james ; team training ; drill accidents ; reader being caring and sweet ; reader is wifey material ; james is husband material

LENGTH : 0.8k

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

“James!” you shout across the rink, standing by one of your boyfriend’s coaches, Richard, who’s become like an uncle to you. The hockey captain doesn’t stop, however, unable to hear past the whistling wind by his ears atop his thick and sturdy headgear.

“Gonna have to shout louder than that, little lady ,” the older man chuckles, adjusting the cap on his head of silvering hair. 

You ponder to yourself for a moment before smirking, which makes Richard arch a curious brow at you, “Darling!” The instant you call across the ice rink, you see James’ head whip towards you before he grins widely behind the front guard of his head gear. Behind him, the rest of his team come to a skidding halt and also look over to your waving and cheering figure. You’ve become quite familiar with all of his teammates and they love to tease their captain for being so head over heels for you so the team begin snickering to themselves, some even cheekily whistling and nudging at James who pays them no mind, his sole focus fixed onto you.

“Baby!” he cheers, delight and excitement evident in his voice before he speeds his way over to you. Richard whistles for the rest of the team to run short drills while the ‘lovely couple’ have their lunch. 

“I’m sorry for being late,” you gnaw at your bottom lip regretfully, a guilty look taking over your expression as James hurriedly takes off his headgear and gloves, revealing his sweat-soaked locks matted down and clinging onto his forehead, “Richard told me you didn’t eat anything-” because you wanted to wait for me…

“Don’t worry about it,” James says gently, his smile just as bright but much softer as he takes in your sweet expression. There’s so much love in his gaze, you feel your own heart bursting at the seams to attempt at reciprocating his adoration. James brings a finger under your chin and lifts your gaze to meet his kind stare; even though he appears sweaty, dishevelled and rugged from training, he’s just as handsome as ever, “you sounded really excited over the phone about cooking my lunch for me,” a heat crawls up your neck and explodes across your cheeks as James grins, his eyes staring lovingly at you, “and I was just as excited to eat what you so graciously cooked instead of the canteen food here,” James giggles to himself, dopey and carefree, “you cooked it just for me~ I’m so lucky~” 

You returned his wide grin and felt yourself losing your will to hide his surprise. He didn’t know it but you were only late because you went and bought his favourite treacle tart from his favourite bakery across town.  

“Actually~” you begin to reach down so that you can present the bakery take out box when you suddenly see James pull back, his spine fully erect as his eyes and ears become fully alert. The words were on your tongue, ready to question his odd behaviour when he suddenly shoots his arm up to the side; just as you were beginning to register a faint whistle in your ear, it was followed by a resounding WHHHIIIIP!

In James’s stretched out hand was a hockey puck. And it was on a one way course of high velocity towards you. Seeing this, anger flares up like the fuse of an explosive ready to violently detonate in James’s eyes.

“SHE’S! MY! FUCKING! GIRLFRIEND! WATCH IT! YOU FAT FUCK!” James’s booming voice cuts through the air and silences all activity on the rink, not only that but he was easily able to narrow down the perpetrator of the hazardous stray puck, “...WELL?!! SAY SOMETHING YOU DICK!” you look past James’s figure and lock eyes with guilty brown pools, likely the offender of your potential accident.

“S-sorry,” you hear his teammate stutter, which you accept with a small nod and place a gentle hand on James’s arm, attempting to calm him down and bring his attention back to you. As he slowly turns to you again, James slams the puck to the ground and kicks it away with his ice skate. 

“Are you okay, angel?” James asks, his voice soft and kind, a complete contrast to the booming, angry shout he just projected. 

“I’m perfectly fine,” your warm voice visibly soothes the hockey team captain and he rests his forehead against yours with a sigh of relief, “...accidents happen James, please don’t lash out on the poor g-”

“Accident or not, hurting you— almost hurting you is deserving of a beat down from hell,”

Looking into his hostile but worried hazel eyes, you silently express your objection alongside some appreciation too. You’re thankful for his worry, his aggression over your safety even makes your heart flutter but he’s better than any violence. It takes a moment but James finally sighs and nods, a silent promise to watch himself and stay civil. 

Smiling softly, you lean up to kiss his lips, “thank you for saving me,” his lips smile against yours. 

“You’re always safe with me, princess,”

NAVI.

A/N : im a bit rusty on writing since i haven’t been able to write for a while from stressful home stuff but here’s me trying to get back into it with another ice hockey james au (inspired by another tiktok). hopefully, this will get me in the headspace to write good requests from my milestone event.

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @neeezza101 @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @chullu-bhar-paani @ghostgardn @rosalyn-s @seungtelevision

#james potter x reader #james potter #james potter x you #james potter imagine #james potter fluff #ice hockey player james potter #james potter fic #james potter fanfiction #𐂂 : timestamp #hp marauders #marauders fic #the marauders

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Best Kept Secret on the Grid || Part Four

MV, CL, CS, LH, LN, PG, GR, FA, DR, OP x fem!reader Warnings: fluff and flirting (sorry there will be smut next time) Reader gets to go on a hunt of her own! WC: 3.1k F1 Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five Thank you to @kimi240302 for being inspired to make this collage, it’s perfect! 💕 and it inspired this fic!

It was strange that the elevator had arrived on your floor, and even stranger that it was empty. Your penthouse apartment took up the entire top floor of the building and required a keycard just to use the private elevator. Only Max had the spare keycard.

Sticking your head inside you found it wasn’t entirely empty. Tucked into the corner was a gift box tied off with a delicate silver bow, your name written on the tag hanging from it. You thought about calling Max first but it wasn’t unusual to receive gifts from him so you carried it inside and opened it.

Your jaw dropped at the beautiful ball gown neatly placed inside. Each crystal of the glittering bodice was individually sewn on with meticulous care and it must have cost a small fortune to make. There wasn’t even a label to give a clue as to who the designer was, but it was clearly custom made and you knew without even stepping into it that it would fit perfectly.

Lifting the train out, you found an equally stunning half mask along with a small blank card that you turned over. Hand written in an elegant script is said: Le Bal Masqué 2200. You looked at the time and saw there was just over an hour to get ready.

You had just settled the mask over your styled hair when there was a knock on your door and you slipped your heels on before answering. Expecting to see Max waiting, you were surprised to find a stranger holding a card with your name on it, silently handing it over before you could ask what was going on.

It’s your turn to find us tonight, M.

“Your car is downstairs, madame,” the messenger said as he held the elevator door open for you.

The excitement brought a smile to your face as you stepped inside, wondering just what he had planned for you. You obviously weren’t hunting them the same way they chased you on the island, the dress was far too nice to ruin.

You were occupied by your thoughts the entire drive through the streets of Monte Carlo until you arrived at a cliff side residence. The gates opened at the car’s approach and you could see the mansion was full of men wearing their finest suits. 

“Have a lovely evening, madame,” the chauffeur said as he opened the door for you. 

You thanked him as you stepped out, your entrance garnering plenty of envious stares from the women and looks of longing from men loitering on the steps. You had scanned what you could see of the men’s faces beneath the masks and determined why this was a hunt - three had the same blue eyes and dirty blonde hair as Max while two could have easily been Charles at first glance. 

Smiling to yourself, you climbed the stairs and entered the large foyer full of men who could all pass for yours. 

“Champagne?” You took the flute from the waiter’s tray and saw two rolls of stickers beside it. Noticing the curious lift of your brow above the diamante mask, the waiter tapped the first roll. “The green sticker is for when you believe you have found one of the drivers here this evening, there are only ten so choose wisely. If you believe you have found an imposter, place a red dot on their lapel and they will be escorted off the premises. You have until midnight. Happy hunting.”

You smirked over the rim of your champagne flute and grabbed the roll of red stickers first. Turning to survey the crowd, you chuckled as you whispered to yourself, “Oh Max, you’ve outdone yourself.”

“Enjoying your evening?”

You turned to the man with a thick Spanish accent and immediately knew he wasn’t your Nando, though the jawline beneath the mask followed the same curve and his short beard was shaped similarly. The voice was too deep and the eyes were more green than hazel to match Nando’s so you plucked a red dot from the reel and slapped it on his suit as you answered, “Extremely. Thank you for coming.”

His lips turned down and a large unmasked man stepped out of the shadows, already guiding him out of the residence. You were already making your way to the ballroom where the crowd swelled, dozens and dozens congregating on the dance floor where a band were playing new hit singles but in a classical way. Perhaps band wasn’t the right term, there were so many instruments it was practically an orchestra.

An arm curled around your waist as you swayed to the music and you tipped your head back to meet a pair of brown eyes so dark they were almost black. He didn’t speak as he pulled you closer and for the first time you weren’t certain if the man was an imposter or your Esteban.

“You’re not going to ask how my night is going?” you baited him, a quick smiling parting his lips as he shook his head. Pursing your lips, you weren’t ready to rule him out with a red sticker but you needed to hear his voice to decide if he was worth one of the precious ten green dots in your hand. “Then how about a drink instead?”

His smile grew as he took your hand in his and led you to one of the small bars dotted around the ballroom. Looking at the long fingers laced with yours, you saw a thin tan line on his index finger where a ring had spent a lot of time and you tried to remember if Esteban had one too. Charles, Pierre and Lando definitely did but the memory of Estie’s hand drew a blank - you knew his fingers from how they felt between your legs not by sight apparently.

“Two piña coladas, please,” you ordered as you watched what features you could around the mask but there was no sign of disgust. “One for the road,” you added as you placed a red sticker on his collar.

“How did you know?” the lookalike asked with an English accent.

“Pineapples.” You shrugged and took the cocktail that was placed in front of you. “He hates them.”

Half an hour later the crowd had thinned dramatically. The security team had been kept busy as you felt like the Oprah meme, slapping red dots on the imposters - you get one, and you get one. With a large portion of men gone you were able to focus better and there were two men in particular you had your eye on.

All it took was one laugh and you were peeling back the first green sticker, heading for the pair of dark haired men chatting in the library. Their backs were to you as they laughed at silly book titles and you announced your arrival with a kiss to the shadow of a beard before sticking the green dot to his forehead.

“You two together was always going to be a dead giveaway,” you teased as you stuck another sticker on Lando’s nose. “Only Carlos can make you laugh like that.”

“Don’t tell me we were first?” he whined as he saw the otherwise full strip of green dots. “How have you not found George?”

You trailed a finger over the perfect lines of his suit before tugging the bow tie around his neck. He swallowed at the smouldering look in your eyes and let you drag him closer by the throat until your lips brushed his ear. “Why don’t you help me?”

His lips parted to answer but Carlos pulled him away before he could impart the information he knew. Blocking you with his body, Carlos shook his head at your attempt to break the younger driver. “Rules are rules, hermosa, and you are running out of time.”

He jutted his chin at the grandfather clock and smirked as he ducked from your reach with a laugh when you tried to take back the green sticker. “Uh uh uh, I’m well and truly yours.”

“You’re lucky you’re handsome,” you warned as you left them to their game and continued your hunt. “Alright, George, Gerorge, George, where would you be…oh.”

You had wandered through the throngs of people inside the impressive mansion but you hadn’t explored the rest of the property. It was very easy to understand Lando’s complaint when you walked out the wide open doors to the infinity pool set on the cliff face.

“I’m not sure how I’m going to get this to stick to you,” you said as you held a green dot on your finger tip. George grinned beneath his mask as he looked up from the waters edge enjoying a warm dip in the pool. Water dripped from his hair and ran down his chest as he stood up, tracing a wet palm up your calf through the slit in the dress. He was the only one at the soirée who had taken his suit off and he had also decided to put his bow tie back on before hopping in the heated pool. “You look like a stripper.”

“A very expensive one I hope,” he teased. “You look hot, love, you should join me and cool off.”

“Wish I could,” you sighed, feeling a little like the white rabbit in Alice in Wonderland, “but I’m running late and still have seven of you guys to chase down.”

George pulled himself out of the pool and grabbed a towel, a few drops of water catching on the crystal bodice as he shook his hair out. He dragged the towel down his body and you used the dry spot on the centre of his chest to plant a green dot on him. “Tagging my heart, love,” he chuckled, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “You don’t need to chase us, we are waiting for you.”

He sent you a wink as he swiped up his suit and left you poolside, confused by what he meant. “You’ll figure it out, I know you will.”

Dawdling along the balcony, you chewed over his words before realisation struck. You found Lando and Carlos together and George in the water - places where they loved to be. It seemed so obvious once you thought it and you rushed inside to the ballroom. You hadn’t questioned why the orchestra was masked but when you spotted the dark head of hair at the grand piano it made sense.

“It’s my favourite Frenchman,” you whispered in his ear and the melody bounced over a miskey.

“Monegasque,” he corrected automatically, turning to see the amusement shimmering in your eyes. “Bonsoir, mi bella.”

“You might want to rest those fingers, Charles, wouldn’t want you to get a cramp later.”

He grinned at the remark and dragged them across the keys. “Don’t worry, I’m just warming up.”

“So am I.” You reached out and stuck the green dot to the index and middle finger on his right hand before kissing the dimple on his cheek. “Those are mine.”

You followed a waiter as he slipped from the room with an empty tray and found a set of stairs leading down a floor, into a busy kitchen. Your next target stood out among the white shirt chefs and you were once again amazed at how they had managed to find strangers with such a resemblance to your drivers.

“What’s cooking, good looking?”

Fernando turned with a spoonful of something that smelled delicious and your lips parted for him. A heavenly moan hummed from your chest as you tasted what he had been stirring on the stove. Nando smirked as his eyes followed the line of your lips before he leaned in and caught them with his, rolling his tongue across your bottom lip.

“You missed a bit,” he said as he wiped the spot of sauce with his thumb before licking it clean. You momentarily forgot what you were doing but he had his wits about him as he took a green sticker and placed it on his collar. “Now this is my colour.”

“Not red?” He shook his head as you flattened the dot to make sure it wouldn’t be lost in the 25 minutes you had left. “So the Ferrari rumours…?”

“Just rumours, querida, but I don’t think you have time to gossip.” He pointed the spoon to the clock above the head chef’s station. “There’s still a few spots left.”

“Vegan special,” the chef shouted as he hit the bell for service and a waiter arrived in an instant. “Deliver this to the home theatre.”

“One less now.” You grinned and pulled another sticker out. “See you at midnight.”

You followed the waiter into the quiet depths of the mansion until he reached a door and you took the plate from the tray. “I can take it from here, thanks.”

Lewis was so engrossed in the film he didn’t notice it was you in the room with him. It was only when he looked closer he saw the green dot stuck to the white china plate in your hands and looked up with a wide smile.

“I take gratuities in orgasms, just so you know,” you said with a laugh as he moved the plate and pulled you onto his lap instead.

“It’s your lucky night, baby,” he purred in your ear as his hand slipped up the slit in your dress. “I’ve been told I’m a heavy tipper.”

His fingers teased along the lace edge of your panties and you only just managed to clear your head before he could erase all your thoughts with his touch. “Rain check,” you groaned, not wanting to leave just yet but Fernando had given you an idea before the chef had set you onto Lewis’ path. “Where would you go if you wanted to hear the juiciest gossip?”

Lewis chewed his lip as he thought it over before deciding, “The bar, a few drinks definitely loosens lips.”

“Then that’s where I need to go.” You thanked him with a kiss before leaving the theatre and made your way back to the busiest room in the place. But, before you could leave the lower levels you heard a distinctive accent and skidded to a stop.

“When they said you guys came from a land down under, I didn’t think they meant the basement.” Daniel’s smile split his face as you stepped into the games room where he and Oscar were chalking their cue sticks.

“Thank god you’re here,” Oscar sighed gratefully and placed the cue down on the table, turning to face you with a smile. “I suck at playing pool.”

“Maybe that’s because it's billiards, not pool,” you pointed out as you stepped into the space between his legs.

“I don’t even know what that is,” he admitted, his hands running over the dresses bodice and down to rest on your ass. “You look gorgeous.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a suit.” You straightened the bow that had tilted at some point and draped your arms around his neck. “It suits you, handsome.”

His nose wrinkled and you giggled as he tugged at the tie, sending it off kilter again. “It feels like I’m being choked.”

“There’s some pleasure to be found in a bit of choking. Isn’t that right?” Daniel asked in your ear as he stepped up behind you, his fingers delicately circling your throat. He guided your head back to his shoulder and traced his nose over your racing pulse, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume. “Hmm, maybe we can show him how good it can be.”

You could feel both of them coming to life as they sandwiched you between them, digging their erections into you. Your eyes fluttered shut at the temptation to drop to your knees and taste the Australian drivers, but you forced your eyes open and squirmed free of their intoxicating embrace.

“Soon, promise,” you panted as you slapped a sticker on Daniel’s ass and made Oscar whine needily when you placed one over his tented trousers, rubbing your palm over it to make sure the green dot was secured. “Very soon.”

The largest bar was set up in what you guessed was usually a dining hall and it spanned the length of the room. Leaning against the bartop was Pierre, his chin on his fist as he listened to the revellers unravelling their innermost thoughts aloud. He was engrossed in the tale, nodding encouragement when the woman’s cheeks turned scarlet red beneath her mask.

“And what did he do?” Pierre asked eagerly.

The woman covered her lips as she giggled before leaning in and whispering her confession. Pierre’s lips parted with a gasp, his eyebrows rising over the top of his mask as he stood upright. “Non!”

“Oui!”

Pierre spun around at the sound of your voice in his ear and he tore his mask from his face. “Ma chatte, look at you,” he said with a playful bit of his lip as you gave him a slow spin to show all of your curves glittering beneath the chandelier light. “Beautiful. And just in time too.”

You followed his gaze and saw there was only three minutes to midnight. “Shit,” you whispered as you grabbed the second to last sticker and pressed it to his chest. “Gotta run.”

Your calves burned as you climbed the stairs, spiralling higher and higher, racing the hands of the clock until you reached the top floor. The entire wall was made of glass and overlooked the dark water beyond the cliffs, but it wasn’t the panoramic vista that caught your eye.

His back was to you, the black silk tie of his mask flattening the back of his hair that would usually stick up in all directions, especially after combing your fingers through the strands. But it didn’t matter if you couldn’t see his face, you would recognise him anywhere.

His hands were crossed at the base of his spine, right one holding the left. It was how he stood whenever he was on the podium, how he stood when his anthem played. It was how he stood when he desperately wanted to be elsewhere but was forced to be patient.

You wrapped your arms around his narrow waist and found his eyes reflected in the glass. “Hi.”

The grandfather clocks throughout the mansion struck 12, the loud dongs echoing through the halls. “I wasn’t sure you were going to make it.”

You smiled into his shoulder at the teasing in his voice. “I always knew where you would be.” Stepping around his body, he pulled you into the circle of his arms so you were both watching the horizon as fireworks began to light up the sky above the sea. “There was only one place my Max could possibly be…at the top.”

Click here for the next part.

#the best kept secret on the grid #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 rpf #formula one fanfiction #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you

[moneypowerglorymiddleofmiami]

of seas and torment

a regency au—

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader feat. younger brother!percy

warnings: a bit suggestive in the beginning, also defo unfinished because this is just a blurb i don't actually plan on writing a proper one shot with 😭 do with this what you will, i suppose 😋

to vex a viscount (of seas and torment entry), make do (of seas and torment entry)

⚔°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

"do you honestly think," luke says through gritted teeth. the fire blazes behind him casting a warm glow through his eyes, strong enough to rival the heat of his ire. "that there is a place on this earth you can run to far enough to free me from this torment?"

you glare into his eyes. you see a flash of desire shine through them. you feel your knees weaken, your hands immediately clutching at the desk behind you. "lord castellan—"

he leans in closer, your noses touching. the distance between your lips is agonizingly magnetic. you wish to press yours against him, to finally give fruition to the images that plague your mind before you sleep.

"no," he shakes his head. he doesn't move away. his fingers brush against the expanse of your neck, thumb pressing lightly into the pulse beneath your jaw. "you could swim yourself ragged into the depths of the sea or even hide amidst the pillars of olympus, but i will never be free."

you shiver against his touch. he moves himself into the open space between your parted legs. his other hand traces your thighs, lingers on your hips, then squeezes your waist.

"marry me, hm?" he asks. he finally pushes his lips against yours, wanting and greedy with lust. luke moves his hands down to your knees, rubbing soothing lines into them. you gasp when he pushes his palms up to your derriere; he takes the opportunity to slot his tongue into your mouth. "marry me and bring me peace."

"alright." you respond, completely dazed from a lack of air but indescribably needing more of him.

⚔°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

"i shall defend your honor!" percy declares, wrenching a sword from one of the rather gaudy display cases in your father's study.

"you are barely six and ten years of age!" you yell as you rush after him, breathless. his gait is far quicker than yours. "you will do no such thing!"

he's out of the door before you reach him, his linen shirt billowing in the wind as it pounds against the rocky shores. you glance down the cliff of the estate and see the chaos of the sea below. you pale at the sight.

"i am the lord of the house!" he yells back, pausing in his steps for a moment to turn to you. he raises the sword into the air as if to prove his point. "no man shall disrespect my sister!"

the soles of your shoe dig into the mud, the heels simultaneously sticky and slippery. you lift your skirts still, even if they are soiled. percy begins to move again when you approach closer. at least one of you had the forethought to put on proper footwear.

you groan in irritation. "he did not disrespect me! we are betrothed!"

"he kissed you before your engagement!" he turns to you again. even through the distance, you could hear his voice crack. "return home, sister! it is improper for him to see you like this!"

"i will not return unless you come with me!" you screech over the temperamental weather. you stomp your foot on the ground, even if it doesn't come off as impactful as it should have. "perseus!"

"do you see how the tides have turned?" he asks when he reaches the gate. you're a few metres behind him. "clearly, father agrees with me!"

"you're being irrational!" the ground rattles before a wave of saltwater hits you. you're unscathed, of course— you could not say the same for your hair.

"ha! see?!" he proclaims triumphantly before pushing the gate open, locking the gate. he plays with the keys and dangles it mockingly in front of you.

"you're going to lose that!" you grasp the silver metal bars, attempting to free the hinge. percy shakes his head.

"all the better," he grins. "that means you can never leave! the castellan boy shall never see you again. that is his payment for his offense."

"fool!" you huff. "losing the key means you can't get in."

"yes but unlike that little heathen," he curls his mouth in distaste, "i can swim."

"yes, but he can fly!" you exclaim as he begins to pick up his pace and walk away once more. he waves his hand to dismiss your qualms before disappearing into the thick of trees that led to town.

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy pjo #pjo tv show #pjo fandom #percy series #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians