#the sheer CURVE of my hype

[pristine-rose]

✧ CLOSE UP, CLICK ME !

⊹ characters : kaveh, baizhu, ayato, childe, kaeya ( separate )

⊹ synopsis : he loves taking good pictures of you [ drabbles ]

⊹ warnings : [ex]plicit, public, photography, slight obsession, modern au ( all )

⊹ female reader (afab, she/ her usage), no y/n usage, not beta read, you can blame my friend for this one

⊹ KAVEH

he’s such a nice guy. so nice, so sweet, everyone thinks so.

no, not that shirt— yes! that color looks so good on you! — well, everyone also think’s he’s such a fashionista. and as your “good friend,” or so he claims, he always loves to see your outfits. send a pic, please! — he’ll keep begging and begging. seemed normal enough, honestly. he’ll just rate your outfits for concerts, for parties, for coffee outings, you name it. and he gave good advice, too. sweet guy, took you shopping many times and hyped you up in the dressing rooms.

would it be cute to wear skimpy clothing? he’ll ask you that a lot because apparently, he certainly thinks so. every time you head to the dressing room at a store he’ll call wait! and add something akin to an incredibly revealing shirt or bottom wear. you’ll try it on — everyone trusts his fashion advice after all. he insists to come in the dressing room with you. ah — to help button zipper up your dresses, of course! and to not waste any time. he laughs these answers off like you’re silly for even asking.

it’s one time when you’re texting him about a concert outfit you’re planning. the tight pink sheer top, he tells you, would be so perfect. you tried it on at the store one time with him but never bought it — you forgot what it looks like. perhaps he had a picture? he says he’ll send it. until he sends… he stumbles in text. ah, he didn’t mean to send that image of you still changing in your undergarments — that was in the store dressing room. um, yeah, he took that by accident, here’s the real picture of the pink top. no, no, he totally doesn’t save all those photos of you.

☁️ —

⊹ BAIZHU

this operating table was so cold, you think to yourself.

hm, i’ve never seen a condition like this before — that was what he said. there’s a curious sting in his voice, but it’s not like you can ever tell. a sharp breath hits your shoulder, and you wince. his aura feels ghostly as you stare up at the doctor’s room ceiling; you’re only in undergarments for this examination. he doesn’t say any more, not even offering up procedures or an explanation. he simply removes his gloves, and he touches you.

his hands pushing down the dips of your collarbone to “check your muscles”; his fingers curving down your waist to “feel for discomfort”; his digits pressing at your thighs to “document skin condition” — you were almost too fearful to move even a centimeter. it’s so silent. you hear him open his mouth again.

allow me to document this for future reference — what? click! and a flash — he quickly apologizes with shaky breaths, apparently he forgot to turn off flash, sorry if that startled you! the camera appears right below your nose to capture your neck, and you feel his fingers grip your chin to tilt it up. click! just one more picture, he promises. the doctor is anything but decent when his hand grips at your thigh and pulls it to the side, and you can practically feel it shaking when he — click! — grins with his camera between your legs.

☁️ —

⊹ AYATO KAMISATO

high end fashion modeling opportunity, you just had to take it.

the ceo is a young man, who would’ve thought. he looks so professional, so modest with his suit to resemble nothing below a gentleman. his smile is simple when he greets you, but they’re tried and almost dead, and you almost can’t see the color in them. he markets for a business-casual clothing vision, and he tells you he “hates small talk,” as he rambles on and on about the most random things while the tailors get you dressed up.

oh, would you like some water? — ah, that color is nice, no, no, the shorter one— what was i saying? he changes topics so fast. it feels weird when he stands back the whole time to scan your body up and down, though maybe this was how it worked…? he doesn’t even hide his eyes landing in certain areas, and he isn’t shy to pick the tighter or shorter option. pencil skirt, strapless high heels, sheer stockings, parted top.

he pulls out his phone to take pictures for, um… his manufacturing team, right, right! he grins so awkwardly when he tells you this. he gets real close to take a picture of the end of your skirt — he quickly says for the material of the stockings and the thickness of the skirt, of course, of course! he takes another picture of the parting slit in your blouse — for length, he laughs it off. he runs a hand across his forehead, he’s sweating. he’s nervously tapping his foot and licking his chapped lips until he excuses himself rather awkwardly, fleeing the room.

☁️ —

⊹ TARTAGLIA

he loves his motorbike so much; calls it his baby. he’s so cringe about it, too. he’s got an instagram account for it.

people like pictures of hot girls with a bike next to them, right? — he laughs it off so loud and casual. dorky, biggest grin on his face, a forever smile even when he picks you up under your arms so easily to put you on the seat of the bike. he just uses his phone to take the pictures. but he’s so so attentive with his bike — kneeling just for good shots and angles. but he’s so loud. calling to arch your back a certain way, to sit with your legs spread on the seat — oh, oh, put your hands at the center to cover yourself!

he wants it flashy, he wants it fun looking. he’s so touchy when he needs a certain shot that he will walk up just to move your body himself. so loud, so handsy — he’ll grab your thighs with his large hands — he’ll say to spread them justttt like that, baby. and immediately afterwards, he’ll compliment you in ways that make you freeze. so so so so touchy, he’ll compliment your hips on the photo and will move just to pat them. he’ll say your back curved so nicely with the bike as he runs his finger down your spine. what a nice guy, is all you think, even when he reaches to press a thumb to your lips when he compliments the color.

when you’re all done, he’s giddy posting it to his instagram. like the pics, like the pics! — his excitement has so much pride. when you scroll through they’re exactly what you expected. all tame, all fun looking, he’s hyping up his bike. he’s grinning wildly in his seat next to you, even when he slides to the left to add a temporary story to promote his new post. and, oh, he quickly excuses himself to use the restroom. maybe it isn’t right, but curiosity kills you to peer over his phone when the instagram options look like wayyy more photos than you actually took. spam pictures — zoom-ins you didn’t even realize he did. photos of the middle of your tight shorts rubbed right against his leather seats. quick snaps of your bra peeking from atop your shirt, your thighs on his bike; you pretend not to look when he comes back all flustered.

☁️ —

⊹ KAEYA ALBERICH

newly hired photographer today. a rookie, they say.

he’s a cool guy. really chill, incredibly relaxed even in a high-end photoshoot like this. he’s not even bothered by the chaos of models running around nude. the brand is known for selling underwear after all, he says every time to just shrug it off. but this is a big celebrity collab — you and the company. apparently he’s a “huge fan” of your modeling.

his shots look stunning, and he’s so cool and confident during the shoot. he keeps saying he’s a really really reallyyyy big fan of yours, and you just have to keep nodding it off. you may no mind when he touches you. moving your arm, pulling out your hips, lifting your chin, parting your thighs — it’s all for the sake of the picture. click! but sometimes, he lingers. sometimes, maybe, he didn’t need to put his hand on your breasts to push them up, or he didn’t need to pull at the bottom hem of your underwear.

when the shoot is done, he rushes out. he’s only seen later with his phone close to his face, eyes glued down to the screen, hand scratching at his stomach. he fumbles when you go up to thank him. oh, oh, he’s just a fan — and he’s so honored to be able to have this opportunity — and he loves your professionalism oh so much! when you reach out your hand to shake his, he drops his phone and it’s the most awkward you’ve ever seen him; especially when the screen is dozens upon dozens of imported photos of you — closeups you didn’t even think he would take of your body during the shoot. he quickly apologizes when he goes to pick it up, shaking your hand though he’s trembling when he even looks at you now.

blame KAIRI for this my no.1 enemy who i hate

#kaveh x reader #childe x reader #baizhu x reader #ayato x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin men x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #ajax x reader #tartagalia x reader #genshin men #childe x reader smut #kaeya smut #kaveh smut

[starstruckwillows]

— s/o + stuffed animals ♡

requested by @juneberrie <3

includes: annabeth chase, frank zhang, hazel levesque, jason grace, leo valdez, percy jackson, piper mclean — s/o that sleeps with teddies, gn!reader — tw; octavian /j, brief sex joke

annabeth chase 🏢

annabeth had a teddy when she was younger, but pretty much left it behind and never thought about it again. it’s never bothered her that you go to sleep with them, it’s never bothered her if you’ve brought one on a quest, but she’s never really thought about it much. until she was waiting for you in your room and, out of sheer boredom, began tossing them between her hands and examining the stitching and design. she’s also found that if you’re away from her, the teddies are something that connects her to you. she’ll never tell you, but she may borrow one when you’re on quests or visiting home.

frank zhang 🐻

human teddy bear. that’s why his emoji is a bear and not one of the many other animals he shifts into. frank is a teddy in his own right, but he honestly finds it cute that you have them littering your bed. will absent mindedly tidy them/line them up if he’s alone in your room, probably in height order, or with the smallest in their own row. he’s so interested in everything about you and will ask their names, where you got them, when you got them, what they’re wearing and why, ect. when you’re in that semi-peaceful, post-quest delighted phase of having nothing to do, and more importantly nothing to worry about, you and frank may lay and give them back stories and lives. when he’s a praetor and his responsibilities are almost never ending, it’s a fun pass time that helps him relax.

hazel levesque 💎

honestly, she’s never seen someone with more than one or two rag dolls. like most things in your modern life, it’s a learning curve for her. what she does know is you like them, and that’s all that matters for her. she doesn’t mind them herself, and if you ever gave her one, she’d be such an adorable mess of hardly contained glee. tries to give arion one, but he pretty much just eats it. she was horrified. never again. on nico’s next birthday, she does give him a skull teddy, having discovered they make great gifts, and although he just smiles and rolls his eyes at people laughing, he loves it. it has a prized place next to will solace on his pillow.

jason grace ☁️

bless his soul, he was raised by wolves. he did not have access to any aspect of a regular childhood, nor did he ever resent that. but he did have a scrap of a thing he received from thalia as a baby, almost losing all of it’s stuffing over the years and a single button eye left. but he kept it the whole time, and it brings him a lot of nostalgic comfort. now, as for your teddies, he has no problem sharing your bed with them. they’re comfortable and cute. they aren’t the strict upbringing he experienced at camp jupiter, but he’s discovered many things he’s enjoyed outside of that part of his life. and he’ll make sure to keep you as far away from octavian as possible, and his bloody stuffed animal massacre. puts his glasses on them as placeholders.

leo valdez 🪛

doesn’t see the hype. kidding - kind of. the concept of stuffed animals don’t bother him. they’re cute, they’re fun to make interact with each other (+ put in weird poses because let’s be real if rick’s target audience wasn’t children there’d be twenty sex jokes per any chapter featuring leo), and he has nothing against them. but he does have an innate desire to make them “more interesting”. this includes a lot of lasers and fire and weaponry. “leo, i do not want to lay in bed with my head against a bunch of cogs and risk accidentally shaving my eyebrows off, or worse.” “... no fun.” he will buy/find you more and more, regardless, the pile everygrowing.

percy jackson 🐳

sally jackson got percy some kind of fish teddy the second he was born, partly as a joke, partly as a small vice for her mild disgruntlement at the god’s customary absentee parenting style. he was never particularly attached to it, but i think he’d take it to camp in the summer - he’s got no teasing bunkmates to worry about, tyson’s too much of a sweetheart, and it’s a connection to his mum more than his dad. he may gift it to you at some point. i can see him always checking on your teddies before leaving your room, just to make sure nobody’s been knocked to the ground. he knows you wouldn’t let him hear the end of it if they had. he thinks it’s pretty sweet, your collection, and will buy you one or two before it grows so big he insists you don’t need anymore.

piper mclean 🤎

as a kid, she got iphones and designer handbags, not teddy bears. she never really cared for them, maybe charming her way into stealing a couple, for the kleptomania. it doesn’t, at first, cross her mind when she sees them all on your bed. when she sees you with them, curled up after a hard quest or a long day, however, she finds herself thinking how genuinely nice it is to relax with fluffy things and not much to do. when you gift her a few, she doesn’t necessarily name them or form an emotional attachment, but she does think they’re nice, and will frequently curl with them if she’s tired.

🏷️ — none yet

#starstruckwillows #riordanverse #annabeth chase #frank zhang #hazel levesque #jason grace #leo valdez #percy jackson #piper mclean #annabeth chase fluff #annabeth chase x reader #frank zhang fluff #frank zhang x reader #hazel levesque fluff #hazel levesque x reader #jason grace fluff #jason grace x reader #leo valdez fluff #leo valdez x reader #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson x reader #piper mclean fluff #piper mclean x reader #gn!reader

[helluva-dump]

Day 1: Meeting

It was a fun and joyful night in heaven, with a big grand tour performing in their big stadium. Two bands were performing on a tour together, The Pray as well as Adam and the Exorcists.

Lucy is we filled with so much joy, she was always eager to watch The Pray before… though she wasn’t too familiar with Adam and the Exorcists, simply, her father banned their music in their home. To put it simply, he told her a lot of terrible things about the musician and how he’s an obnoxious creep towards women. But after all the convincing from Emily and begging from Lucy, he decided to let her go out.

Azrael knew how much Lucy loved the Pray and knew her intentions were mainly for them. But he did tell Emily to make sure they come straight home after the concert, and to only get autographs from the Pray. And to NOT let Lucy get lost in a crowd or to not even interact with the other “so called band”. Emily feels like Azrael is a bit too paranoid, but understands.

Later that evening, The Pray began to perform as well as Adam and the Exorcists. Lucy, Emily, and Keenie were all in joy just listening to the beautiful angelic voices of the Pray. It was like a miracle for Lucy as if she was in a beautiful ethereal dream with her musician crushes. Though, as she heard Adam and the exorcists perform… she didn’t think they sounded too bad. The music almost sounds like old records her father Azrael had.

It was simply okay. She didn’t really get the hype for Adam and the Exorcists. She was much more into things with a softer and mellow sound with some heavy strums here and there. As the concert was finished, Keenie got so happily excited and flew way towards the merch… Emily tried to ask Keenie to slow it down but the two got into a little fuss. Emily got very peeved with Keenie not following what Azrael told them, that they accidentally separated form Lucy.

Oh poor Lucy, the poor thing. She got lost in the crowd, trying to look for her friends. She was starting to feel over stimulated as if she eas gonna get an anxiety attack… She decided to fly up to search for her friends… that’s until she bumped into a chubby figure in the sky.

“Ow! Hey fucking watch it! I get it! I’m the main star, but listen dude, if you want my autograph, wait your fucking-“ The voice stopped as he took a good look at who bumped into him.

Oh damn, it appears so be some Angel chick… but not just any Angel… she had a beautiful bright blue eyes like the sky, white feathery body with her pigeon like wings, freckles, and long raven hair… but also wearing a cute shirt blue dress with cloud print and sheer sleeves… holy shit…. Damn her curves and body, is Heaven really missing an Angel? She doesn’t seem like a winner or a cherub, but she almost looks like a seraphim… yet her halo looks normal.

Lucy looked at the stranger and realized it was no other than the vocalist from the other band… Adam himself…. In person, right in front of her. Wow, her dad was right, he was pretty rude and arrogant. But she didn’t want to set him off, Lucy replied “Oh goodness! I am so sorry! I got lost in the crowd! You see I’m trying to look for my two friends and ummm… I’m sorry.”

God, her voice is even cute! Her naive nature and how soft and docile she seemed…. So lovely, submissive, and wholesome sounding. Almost reminds him of the days of Eden with Eve…. Adam felt a hard boner downstairs but tried to play it cool… “Oh shit! Excuse my manners babe! I just couldn’t resist to notice how drop dead gorgeous you are!” He replied with a flirtatious grin, trying to be suave. “You know, I can always give you a freebie if you badly want me to sign something.”

“Oh don’t take this personal…. I’m not that familiar with your music… I mainly came for the Pray, my father is sort of strict when it comes to your band… he would get upset if I’m talking to you.” Lucy said with a shy expression on her face, but feels bad. She knew Adam sung his heart out but didn’t want to lie to him.

“Pfffft a daddy’s girl! Ah I got it! Most of their dads don’t like me either!” He replied, but feeling disappointed. How can she not ever hear his music??? Adam, THE ADAM. The original dick! But he kept his cool and held her hand. “If you like, I can offer you some assistance to find your friends.”

“Oh that’s okay… I think I can find them.”

“Don’t worry babe! I always helped lost fans like you find their crowd! Just give me their names.”

As he was about to help her, a voice called out her them.

“LUCY!!!! LUCY!!! ARE YOU UP HERE?!!” The voice got closer and it wasn’t anyone other than Emily. She was so relieved. She felt so bad for getting into an argument with Keenie that she lost Lucy in the crowd. She flew towards her and gave her a hug… “Oh I’m so relieved! Please don’t scare me like that! Keenie is gonna meet up with us down at the souvenir shoppe.”

“HOLY SHIT BALLS! HEY EM!!! How’s your Friday night, didn’t think you knew this cutie too!” Adam was shocked to see Emily here… but wait… the fact she knows this cute girl… holy shit. He’s got a chance! A chance to get to know this special friend! “How come I’ve never seen this cutie around you?”

Emily glared at Adam and held Lucy close to her. “Adam no! She’s off limits! She’s not interested! We are just having a girls night out!”

“Oh c’mon i just wanna know her name!” He whined and pouted. “very rude you know Em…”

Lucy looked at Adam and decided to thank him with a Reply “Oh it’s okay! Thank you Adam… if you do want to know my name… my name is Lucy.”

“Oooo Lucy huh? Makes me think of a certain fallen one… but besides that, I like that name! Hell, it sounds cuter than you know who!”

“Oh no! It’s short for Lucinda! My mom picked it since it means light.” She flustered but felt embarrassed.

“Ah I see, well your are a beautiful light!” Adam got closer to the two girls as he winked at Lucy. “Anyways, got shit to sign but up I’ll give this for you.” He offered Lucy a poster of himself, with a special signature.

Emily rolled her eyes and sighed “Bye Adam, we have to go now.” She said as she grabbed Lucy’s hand and the two girls fled away…

“Hmmm he sure is strange… but seemed so nice and friendly…. Why does my dad hate him?” She has thought to herself.

——————————————————————-

Yeah I’m a day late but here’s my prompt for @hazbinocxcanon for the oc x canon week.

As I said before I changed things with their story and how they met. I’m gonna say him blackmailing her doesn’t happen until later in their relationship. But here’s an insight of how they both met each other.

Yes Keenie is the absent friend where Emily cares so much about her and will fight for Lucy’s life.

Hope you enjoy the art and short story 💖

#hazbin hotel #oc x canon #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #my art #my writing

[boozeandbaddecisions]

A/N: alright, another square done for @clonexreaderbingo. Paired with the prompts "How do you expect me to keep my hands off you?" and working out turned spicy for @littlemissmanga. Hope you enjoy, and if I missed anything in the warnings let me know.

Warning(s): P in V, clothes tearing, Wrecker being a bit handsy

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she tapped on her phone. Her thumbs skittered along the keys as she reached out to her workout buddy. Despite not seeing him, yet it was entire possible she could brave the gym on her own. One of the perks of working out with a regular: the staff pay extra attention to both hers and his well-being. Her phone jostled in her grasp. The notification sent her heart racing.

As she read over the text she checked-in before proceeding to the locker room to break out her latest addition of gym attire. This most recent addition was more of an impulse buy more than anything after being hyped up by advertisements. Her fingers toyed with the honeycomb fabric once she had changed into them. Her shirt at a suitable length to show off the new garment. The butterflies swirled up into a frenzy once more as her phone buzzed again. He was here. After a final glance in the mirror to steel her nerves, she locked up her bag and ventured out in search of her gym partner.

He was easy enough to spot. Even among the more muscular clientele, he stood out plainly enough. If it was not his sheer bulk, it was his boisterous laugh that proved more infectious than a cold. She made her approach as he was distracted with chatting up the front desk. Her partner's gesticulations only drawing attention to his biceps flexing as he told a story of some exploit he and his brothers performed. It was when there was a break in his retelling that it was a time to strike.

“Wrecker, you ready?”

The large man turned immediately lighting up, “There you are. Thought you were gonna leave me on my own today.”

“And miss leg day? I might even try beat your PR this time.” She teased, earning a broad grin.

“That's awful big talk, mesh'la.”

“If I don't I'll by dinner.”

A chuckle resonated in his chest.

“You're on.”

She folded her arms victoriously, “Deal. Now let's get going.”

As she turned on her heel to go claim some equipment for them, his attention was drawn to her new gym attire. The material clung to her hips with the fabric's pattern accentuating the curve of her ass. He tore his gaze away as a surge of heat washed over his face. Maker was testing him. He never did too well on those.

After a brief moment, he trailed after her. His gaze now trained on her shoulders. Curiosity got the better of him as she ignored the row of empty leg press machines.

“You uh...have a workout in mind?”

She grinned, “I was thinking we could do some compound lifts.” She peered over her shoulder to lock eyes with him, “Sound good?”

His mouth was suddenly too dry to form a reply, but thankfully a nod was enough.

Their regimen started out easy enough for the pair. A starting set of Romanian deadlifts kept them occupied and focused. Breathing and form nearly textbook as he guided the bar along his well defined thighs. As soon as his set was complete he chanced a glance at her. His stomach tied itself into a knot as he took her in. Her gaze etched with fierce determination. Her form oozing control with each rep. Beads of sweat adorned her skin to give her this radiant glow. His heart clenched.

Three words always evaded him during their time together despite his desire to drag his confession into the light. Doubt was a weight even he could not lift.

“You good?”

He was met with her gaze, features twisted with concern.

“Yeah, yeah I'm good.”

She shook here head, “I asked if you could spot me.”

A smile tugged at his lips, “Course I can. We at the bench o-”

“Actually, looks like the squat rack just opened up.”

Kriff.

“Y...yeah, sounds great.”

His palms began to grow slick the closer they drew to the metal frame and weights. He approached the bar, loosening a clip that kept the weights secure.

“Keep those on.”

He arched a brow at her, “You're up to plates already?”

“Said I was going for PR,” She grinned, “and I got a good spotter just in case.”

Her flattery did nothing to ease his mind as he moved to get into position to spot her should the weight be too much. Unfortunately for him, spotting during squats left his front much closer to her back. Their height difference only compounded the issue. She was just so much smaller. It would be barely a feat to pull her closer to- He shut his eyes in an attempt to clear his mind of her and her leggings.

Once she was ready, he maintained his spotter's position just behind her as she lifted the bar. The couple of paces to the center of the frame were more meticulous. Her inhale signaled her downward movement. His much larger form followed her movements. Outstretched hands nearby to grasp the weight. Each exhale signaled her rise to a standing position. Her breathing already labored.

“One.”

Inhale. Exhale.

“Two.”

Inhale. Exhale.”

“T..three.”

Her next inhale stuttered as she lowered herself into a crouch. The muscles in her legs screamed their displeasure. However, their protests were only observed when her muscles seized a third of the way up. Her white knuckled grip on the bar proved a fruitless attempt to milk any remaining strength from her muscles.

A field of warmth surrounded her. The bar abruptly much lighter in her grasp. Her legs extended sluggishly before she fell back against her savior. The bar met the metal frame with a ringing clang. She remained held fast against her spotter for what felt like ages. Something large twitched against her backside wiping her mind blank and cheeks flaring. That wasn't...

“You okay?”

Her head tilted up to see him looming over her. Was he always this big? Did he always make her feel so...small and safe?

“Yeah...guess I'm not ready for plates yet.”

She felt his chest compress as he exhaled, “It's okay. Really good try though.”

Her bottom lip became snared between her teeth, “Wrecker, can we..call it a day?”

The smile he offered her could warm a planet for years, “Yeah, you need a ride home?”

Her heart screamed yes.

The drive back to her apartment was uneventful. A series of turns led them to their silence filled cab as he threw it in park. She broke the silence.

“Well, here we are.”

“Yeah...”

She frowned, his voice missing its brightness, “Hey, if it's about the squats I'm sorry. I...shouldn't go at it that heavy.”

“No, no. I...” He sighed, his hand cradled the back of his neck, “I care about you, mesh'la. Like a lot.”

A wave of heat washed over her face, yet a smile crept across her lips at seeing her gym partner doing whatever he could to avoid her gaze.

“Look, I'm okay if you don't feel the sa-”

He nearly combusted at feeling her soft lips against his cheek. His eyes finally met hers.

“Can you help me bring my things up stairs?”

He nodded snatching up her bag and his keys soon following her up the stairs to her door. The sway of her hips in the confines of her leggings drew his attention once more as she led the way. The turn of a lock later, and they ventured inside. Her bag dropped to the floor carelessly as she nearly pressed her chest to his. She leaned in partially leaving the option for him to back away. A pair of hands abruptly scooped her up raising her to close the distance.

Their lips met setting embers alight in her chest. Her arms encircled his neck as tongues soon entered the fray. His fingers dug into the flesh of her thighs. Soon they came up for air. Those three words slurred from his lips as if the touch of her lips offered that final ounce of needed courage. Her lips tugged into a warm smile before pressing her lips to his.

“How long?”

He parted, chewing the inside of his cheek, “Uh...a while..”

She chuckled, keeping her arms draped around his shoulders, “and here I thought the new leggings won you over.”

He breathed a soft sigh as his fingers traced the fabric, “They...definitely helped, but you always look amazing.”

Her lips pressed to his in another kiss. This one more desperate and hungry than the last. He swiftly took a seat on the couch bringing her closer into his lap. One hand wandered to the curve of her ass giving a light squeeze the earned him a quiet moan. Tongues entwined once more as soon as her lips parted.

Her hips rocked against his. His length throbbed underneath her begging for more contact. A groan was dredged from deep in his chest as her hand wandered inside his shorts and boxers. Fingers curled around his length with the pad of her thumb spread pre-cum along the head.

A rip echoed in the room shortly followed by a chill. Warmth soon took over as he palmed the globes of her ass in both hands kneading them.

He swore against her neck as he continued his groping. Hips bucking up towards her hand.

“I liked those.”

“I'll get you more, they won't last though.”

Her hand continued the languid strokes of his length, but after a squeeze that left him pulsing in her grasp, he gently tapped her ass.

“Up for a minute, and turn around for me.”

A smirk crept over her before she stood, turning her back to him. Her hands traced along her hips. Her thumbs coaxing the tear along the seam to expand. He was quick to free his hard length and wrap an arm around her waist leading her back to him.

“How do you expect me to keep my hands off you when you're doing stuff like that?”

His hand dove under her waistband, fingers tracing along her slit. The slick along her panties enticed him to pull the obstruction to the side. The hand occupied with his length gave a few strokes as he milked a moan out of her. His fingertip toyed with her clit.

“Need you to sit on it, mesh'la.” He coaxed, only giving a satisfied groan when she reached back to grab his length, angling it through the tear to sheath his length inside as she sat back.

Her back arched as she attempted to keep still. His length offered a stretch straddling the line between pleasure and pain. His fingers continued tight circles along her clit as her walls fluttered around him. She squirmed on top of him milking more groans from him as well as silently begging him to move. His hips soon answered, thrusting upward while his free hand rolled up her top to seize a handful, fingers delivering feather light pinches to contrast his sloppy thrusts.

His lips left a heated path along her neck, “Not go- nnn....gonna last...”

“Wreck...h-harder.”

The fiery coil in her core tightened as his fingers on her clit gaining speed.

“Cum for me, mesh'la.” He whispered against her throat, “please..”

How could she refuse his request?

#wrecker x reader #wrecker smut #tbb wrecker x reader

[landofsamurai]

@whitexreflection asked:

Junko took a few steps toward the sadist Shinsengumi member before taking a stop, her eyes gleaming in excitement as her tone matched her unusually cheerful expression, "How exciting," Her voice was booming in a high pitch as she cupped her hands together, "a REAL life Shinsengumi member standing right in front little 'ol me! It's a dream come true. Looks like hoping for a chance was a good idea."

Oh. Huh. She said a word that made her cringe, that made her feel downright disgusting deep down and this reflected in her body language and features. A sullen expression formed on her features, her voice dropping an octave as she stared blankly at him. "Such a shame though... I expected more sheer intensity of sadism from the officer that's known for it. That's like, so lame that you didn't live up to the hype."

There was another shift, she placed her hand just above her jawline as her pale blue eyes displayed a certain... Euphoric look to them, her cheeks now flushed and her smile curved further while she fixed her gaze on him, "The despair I'm feeling as a result is... So orgasmic, divine, even... It's probably pretty despair inducing for you that you're not causing me emotional pain, isn't it? Aaaah... I hope it is... I truly hope it is."

//I may be a bit caffeine buzzed and tired, yes.

He HAD heard some kind of celebrity was going to be in town. However, Okita hadn't expected her to be this loud and annoying. As she spoke, the irritation was visible within his features. Although, he's met a plenty who treated the Shinsengumi like this. He's met some that when they met him, personally, they treated him like some sweet talking casanova who would be any girl's dream boyfriend just because he was good looking.

Well, they soon found out he was the opposite. He could very much be a woman's nightmare.

Watching this woman felt like a literal nightmare though. There was obviously something wrong with her. Some major screws were loose up there in her head. Although, he did feel insulted she thought his sadism wasn't what the rumors always say. It seemed this Junko person really wanted to push his buttons.

''Women like you really need to learn how to shut up.'' After hearing her rant on about what he deemed to be nonsense, Okita grew rather tired of it.

''You expected more intensity from me huh? How about I tie you to the a bed and torture you until you're at your limit. Screaming and begging for me to free you. How about that?'' Despite him being part of the law, his methods were rather QUESTIONABLE. Willing to torture just for the hell of it. For enjoyment even.

''I'd love to see how much of my sadism you can deal with before it ends up breaking your mind. Anything would be better than having to listen to your mouth any longer. You're the most annoying bitch I've ever encountered by far.''

#IC. Okita #whitexreflection #( DFGDLRFGKDRKF I'M JUST. OTL )

[cadeynmccrory]

Anthony Solometo, earns Spring Training invite with Pittsburgh Pirates

By Cadeyn McCrory on February 21, 2024

PITTSBURGH, PA — A 21-year-old southpaw from Vorhees, NJ, is one of the youngest prospects at the Pittsburgh Pirates' camp. Anthony Solometo ranked as the fifth overall left-handed pitcher in Major League Baseball, played for the Double-A Altoona Curve last season. The funky left-handed pitcher made it up to Double-AA Altoona in his 2nd (second) affiliated season. He has now found himself as the 5th-ranked left-handed pitcher and 82nd-ranked prospect across all of Major League Baseball. 

Fresh off a development camp in Bradenton, Florida, he learned the news in person. “They told me that I’ve been slacking and that we need to have a meeting so I went in and they asked if I had a hot date and was busy on Valentine’s Day,” Solometo said. “I said no I’m available and Hop (Josh Hopper, Pirates Pitching Development Coach), said good because you're going to have to be at big league camp.”

Solometo will be the youngest pitcher at the Pirates major league camp and second youngest only to Infielder Termarr Johnson, age 19. Despite his age, Solometo has shown he's wise beyond his years and now analysts project him to make his MLB debut at some point this season.

With a bit of uncertainty in the Pittsburgh Pirates rotation going into 2024, guys like Solometo have a shot to make the big league roster or a chance at it throughout the season. “The confidence the team has shown (is there) but I’m not on the (big league) club yet which means I haven’t opened their eyes fully and proved to myself that I’m ready for it (a spot on the big league),” he confidently replied. “That just continues to feed the machine and drives me to be the best I possibly can. Earn my spot and my attention and my rank in the organization’s eyes.”

Not only has he exceeded expectations on the field but off the field he has proven to be able to handle the fame and pressure of the hype. “I've gotten to see how truly incredible of a person he is as a whole,” BSB Writes writer Jay Staph told me. “He's someone you can joke around with, be serious with, and just overall chill and have a good time with. He's so deserving of everything that's coming his way. His work ethic, amazing personality, and more have proved him deserving of all of the recognition, and the eventual opportunity to pitch in the MLB.”

Staph has seen firsthand in Altoona, Pennsylvania, for the majority of last season what Solometo has brought to the table. His raw pitch ability, his elite ability to control the location of his fastball, and his slider and changeup mixups in his sequences are his major strengths. “From what I've seen, he's genuinely one of the more impressive lefties in all of minor-league baseball,” Staph emphasized. “He's not afraid to attack hitters and control the zone. It's especially impressive considering his control, slider, and more have gotten some of the best individual grades from many publications. Solo's sheer ability to control counts and attack hitters will be a huge quality at the next level, as fear is one of the main things rookies struggle with within the MLB right away. With his raw stuff on top of that, it's a dangerous combination.”

As Solometo competes for a spot in this year's and future years rotation with top prospects such as Paul Skenes (number 1 prospect), Jared Jones (number 3 prospect), Bubba Chandler (number 5 prospect), amongst many others, his ideology does not change on one simple goal he has said he was a kid. 

“I just couldn’t believe the start of this opportunity for me to achieve my lifelong dream has now officially started in a way and I’m just so beyond thankful,” Solometo stated. “I want to be the guy.” 

Behind The Scenes of this story:

The story of Anthony Solometo is one that intrigued many Pittsburgh Pirate fans and this story hopes to learn about the player and his experiences. BSB Writes Writer Jay Staph helped largely in this story through his evaluations last season in Altoona along with the personal insight of Anthony.

Story 1: Facebook Post:

Meet Anthony Solometo, the rising star from Vorhees, NJ, making waves at the Pittsburgh Pirates' camp. At just 21, Solometo is already ranked among the top left-handed pitchers in MLB and has his sights set on a major league debut this season. His talent, work ethic, and humble demeanor have captured the hearts of fans and analysts alike. Read more about his journey and aspirations below! 

Tweet 1:

Anthony Solometo, the 21-year-old southpaw sensation, is turning heads at the @Pirates' camp. Ranked 5th among left-handed pitchers in MLB, he's poised for a major league debut this season. 

Tweet 2:

Meet Anthony Solometo, the 21-year-old pitching prodigy from NJ. With a stellar record in Double-A, he's set to shine at the @Pirates' major league camp. 

Tweet 3:

Anthony Solometo, the youngest pitcher at @Pirates' camp, is living his dream. From NJ to the big leagues, he's on a mission to be the best. 

[rosequartzgf]

life is a game of pretty pretty princess

The Viennese Ball is an event that occurs not in the lustrous emerald hills of Vienna, but rather 7,516 km away in the “jewel” of the midwest: Eau Claire, Wisconsin. Founded in 1974, the community one day just said – and I quote, “fuck it, we want to do something fancy” and organized an event to display the talent of college student musicians as well as raise money for music scholarships. It has been wildly successful since its origin, prompting the ball to be extended to two separate nights – tickets for both usually sell out within a couple of days.

Disdainful and overtly jealous, I was unable to get a ticket for the 45th Viennese Ball that my friends (and UW – Eau Claire students) had been hyping up to me for almost a year. To say I was devastated would be only a slight exaggeration. As someone with a flair for flamboyance and grew up playing Pretty Pretty Princess (a game that is essentially dressing up in gaudy plastic jewelry) going to a ball needs to be checked off my bucket list. I know that later in my life I’ll attend many a Met Ball and grace the red carpet regularly, but given my impatient nature as a twenty two year old in Minneapolis, this was as close as I could get and I blew it!

During a workshop english class, I was recommending a local vintage shop to an Australian transfer student. Tangent I did and went off babbling about how badly I wanted to go to the Viennese Ball and how I would totally buy a dress from said vintage shop if I had been able to get a ticket. It proves eavesdropping is not evil and a friendly girl in my class was my fairy godmother, offering me a ticket with the ballroom dancing club she was a part of. With almost attacking enthusiasm I told her it would be “really really awesome and so nice of her” if she let me tag along. 

Always playing it cool, I arrived to the school bus that would transport us before any other person in the ballroom dancing club. I awkwardly held my two gowns above my head so as to prevent them from touching the sidewalk despite their being encased in plastic garment bags. The bus driver slowly opened the door of my great big pumpkin carriage after a few minutes to invite me in, and I made my way to the back of the bus out of sheer nervousness. I’m not shy by any means but due to my intense extraversion, I love to be around other people and tell funny anecdotes and banter wittily. Therefore, after receiving zero attention and sitting alone for a bumpy hour and a half I was more than itching to be in the presence of my favorite girls. 

I graciously departed from the glorious Best Western Plus that had been reserved for the group. I opted to start the night early and sipped patron on ice with a wild blonde who also came from the city for the ball while our hostesses crafted us a simple pasta with caesar salad. The energy in the small apartment was chaotic; to be fair, it usually is when we’re all together, but there was an unfamiliar element of elegance present this time. There is a sparkling feeling inherently woven into the fabric of formal-wear – a sense that you are special because you’re dressed special and you’re going to a special event. Seeing my friends dressed up in their best gowns (except for Sarah, who donned a sultry suit) excitedly rapping to Rico Nasty and boogying to Barry White as a pregame to a ball elated me in a way that only beautiful irony and juxtaposition can. 

A quick six minute uber and we were there! Given I had never been on the UWEC campus I wasn’t sure what to expect but I surely wasn’t anticipating such a large venue. An ornate chandelier hung over the curved staircase that greeted us and high ceilings were decorated with white drapery which absorbed the vibrant colors of changing lights – pink to purple to blue and back again. Waltzes swelled throughout the building, greeting and entrancing us before we even saw the orchestras creating the music. The ball took place in large dance rooms speckled throughout a maze of smaller rooms which provided attendees with libations and a more intimate environment to chat. 

One ballroom in particular quickly became my favorite. The orchestra against the far wall, the dancers twirled in small circles whilst traveling in larger circles. Gowns twirled and caught the light like dewy flowers swaying in the wind on a moonlit night. The scene enchanted me, and I was immediately reminded of the glittering ghosts dancing in the abandoned castle from one of my favorite childhood movies, Anastasia. Standing in the crowd of bystanders, I felt a desperate urge to be a part of the magic, to fulfill my dreams of being a princess – even if just for one night. 

The blonde – Savannah was the only of our quartet to oblige to my wishes. Clasping my hand confidently, we made our way to our rightful spot – the very center of the dance floor. Prior to the ball, I had considered taking a lesson and learning how to waltz just for the sheer satisfaction of dancing the Viennese Waltz at a Viennese Ball. However, I’ve never been a huge proponent for rules and I had only gotten the ticket a few days before the event so following my typical suit I decided to wing it. According to reputable instructor Barbara Ehrenhauser, the dance is a simple box step (right, forward, side, close; and back, side close), always turning to the right and usually at least 180 bpm. The waltz is inherently instinctual, anticipating the next move and following the music.

I was lucky to have Savannah as my partner. Upon finding an empty space for us to occupy we immediately established that we were going to simply mimic the patterns of those around us and began dancing. We weren’t perfect, I’m genetically clumsy and rammed into a few innocents when we spun out of control, but the moment was too incredible to care. My cheeks were plastered upwards in a genuine smile as we spun and spun and pranced and laughed through the ballroom. Our friends watched on with the loving admiration of a parent at their child’s recital: knowing we aren’t succeeding but marveling at the purity of our performance anyhow. The joy that even the memory instigates is astounding. To be fulfilled by something so simple – to live in a moment comparable to the scenes of princess movies and have reality exceed those expectations – is why we need extravagant events ESPECIALLY in the midwest. 

We (and more specifically, I) deserve bougie evenings sipping champagne in a pink gown that balloons as I ascend a staircase. Indulgence in spectacularity should be common practice and tying it to a greater good is the best way to make an appropriate space for such. The ball would have felt, personally, more superficial and uninviting if not for the scholarship funding of music departments which are drastically underfunded due to the sport oriented meat heads in charge of funding. Likewise, the immersion in that which we were supporting allowed for conscious appreciation of the talent and dedication at the core of such an over-the-top event. 

Something so superfluous shouldn’t be so grounding for me, but to have the memory of blurred sequins and stiff suits as I twirled and twirled works as a reminder that I deserve to experience luxury. Leaving the ball and changing into comfortable street clothes to splosh through a grimy local bar was only acceptable given we had attended a high-end event just before. Lavishly indulging serves as compensation for the mundanity we must endure on a regular basis. When I’m in a ketchup crusted apron serving the Twin Cities’ elite to scrape by for rent, I at least have the memory of a Viennese Ball sparkling around my cerebellum to remind me that I’m still a pretty pretty princess.

[honeydazai]

I FOUND YOUR PAGE LIKE YESTERDAY AND IM SO . LQOEOWOODOQ8EQ1 !!!! LIKE I LOVE IT SM.... may i request sugar daddy shibusawa? 👁👁

thank you so much!! i'm glad you like my page, anon! kissies! 🧡 (also, i'm finally getting to all my bsd related asks, can you tell?)

listen, anon... not many people get the Shibusawa hype. BUT I DO. i don't know what makes him so hot, either — is it that he's rich? he literally burns jewels and has a huge castle. is it that he's just sexy? perhaps. is it that he's crazy and therefore hot? possibly. WELL, ANYWAY, here's me thoughts to that idea—

sugar daddy Shibusawa, who'd buy you whatever you possibly want without even hesitating; he's got way too much wealth to ever spend anyway, and he doesn't care the slightest for material objects.

sugar daddy Shibusawa, who loves dressing you up in pretty little outfits; whether it's skimpy white dresses that match the Demon Trio's clothes or sheer lingerie that has you feeling like a delicate doll.

sugar daddy Shibusawa, who orders you to sink down to your knees and suck him off in a dressing room — he's buying you so many pretty things, it's only fair for you to pay him back with your body, right?

sugar daddy Shibusawa, who honestly doesn't really care about you as a person, but mostly just wants your body and something to keep him from his eternal boredom.

sugar daddy Shibusawa, who fucks you in the middle of the Draconia room, the stained glass painting your skin in warm colours and intricate patterns as light shines down onto your squirming body and your moans echo loudly through the ornate dome.

sugar daddy Shibusawa, who'd even let Fyodor and Dazai join in on fucking you; all three of them taking turns thrusting into your loose and dripping cunt, either one at a time or all three of them at the sime time. You've got three available holes, so why not use all of them? He's sure a slut like you can take it.

sugar daddy Shibusawa, who loves the way you look when the head of his fat dick nudges against that one spot inside of you; your flushed cheeks and the way you're drooling, your eyes glazed over with arousal and your back arching into an elegant curve.

You truly are one of the most beautiful things he has ever collected.

#🥞 mail #shibusawa tatsuhiko #bsd shibusawa #Bsd smut #Bungou Stray Dogs #Bsd Dead Apple #Bsd imagines #bsd fanfic #bungo stray dogs x reader #Bsd x you #Bsd x y/n #Bungo stray dogs x you #Bungo stray dogs imagines #honeydazai writes #Bsd headcanons #Bungo stray dogs headcanons #🍒 content

[hansolmates]

shiver | 01 (m)

banner done by the wonderful @dnrequests​

summary; jungkook changed since he moved out of his small town church community and attended college. when he returns for a christmas mass, you suddenly crave a taste of his fun and carefree life. in exchange, jungkook craves a taste of you pairing; bad boy!jungkook x church girl!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers, brief childhood friends to enemies, fwb!au, catholic guilt, jungkook is a meanie who eventually turns into a soft tsundere, bicuriosity, sexual exploration, virgin!oc, eventual smut—in this installment: touching over the clothes, mc is hornee, *pulls out cards against humanity* “a gentle caress of the inner thigh”, panty kissin, mc is a big ol’ pushover and hopeful for jkk:(( w/c; 1.9k a/n; it’s here! aaaaaa!!! i’ve been really eally realllyyyyyy nervous to post this. even though this is just a drabble series  let me know how you feel about it! enjoy [shiver masterpost]

“Oh, you’re so dead.” 

Jeon Jungkook isn’t thaaaat buff, he's more of a skinny kind of muscular. You don’t understand the hype, why everyone croons over Jungkook’s strength and physique. However, how else could you explain Jungkook being able to climb the currently dilapidated fire escape to the top floor of the chapel. The ladder is rusted beyond repair and is definitely a fire hazard rather than a fire escape. Yet he barely breaks a sweat doing it, and he wipes the minor sheen off his brow with the back of his hand. There’s some soot and whatever nasty residue from the fire escape that gets on his face, a black streak marring his already annoying face. He’s currently wiggling his fingers in a sarcastic “hello.” It makes you sneer, your two consciousness (inappropriate and appropriate) warring against each other to determine whether you still find this man attractive or not. 

Convincing yourself that Jungkook is ugly is the worst quick-fix idea you’ve ever had. 

The words of your Aunties, the family friends in the church, echo in your ears. Jungkook’s bad. They’d say over and over. It would cause you to snort and giggle, unable to imagine what sort of things he’s done to warrant such a cliché label. Yet some of the girls your age, girls that have gone off to college agree with sultry looks and longing eyes that yes, Jungkook’s bad. So bad, it’s good. 

You haven’t a clue what he’s actually done to earn such a hushed title, his parents are lip-tight about his doings, unless it’s his achievements in the architecture graduate program. You hear things, though. Things that make you shamefully green with envy, envious of sin. 

As soon as he finds proper footing in the storage room, he goes to the closet, immediately finding his backup clothes. They’re plain white button-downs, awkward long shirts with no shape or definition to them. They belong to the church, and no one ever uses them because they’re stiff and itchy. Yet Jungkook wears them like it’s tailored, and you have to look away when he quickly knots the bottom half of the shirt, fashioning it into a tasteful double knot in order to cinch his lean waist.

“Pretty sure it was just you that saw me,” Jungkook says dismissively, “so it’s fine.” 

This bristles you the wrong way, and you put down the catering covers you were supposed to return to the storage room. You smooth out your Sunday dress, this shade of Boring Beige looking particularly pale in the morning sun. “How do you know I won’t tell?” you turn your nose up. 

“Because I know,” he doesn’t even look at you, focusing on rolling the sleeves of his shirt. You weaken when you see the black shadowing across his forearm. That’s new, then again you haven’t seen him since last Christmas.   

“Know what?” 

“That you have a crush on me,” Jungkook says into the air like it’s common knowledge, adjusting the leather jacket on top of his outfit so the white-startched collar pops on top, “I mean, it’s hard for anyone not to know. You’ve been into me since youth group, Bunny.”  

You hold your breath, counting to ten as you close the door behind you. A vision of you playing “Duck Duck Goose” as a five year old plays in your head, where you’d pick a bushy, big-eyed Jeon Jungkook each time, hopping over to him to pat his fluffy head so he’d chase you around. 

It’s old news, your puppy love for Jungkook. How could you not like him? He's clever and sweet with his mother and always told the best stories in youth group meetings.  Everyone thought your affections were so sweet, and while that attention weaned over time, your feelings have only increased the more self-aware you’ve become. 

With a mind as open and honest is yours, it’s hard to ignore how well Jungkook has grown. What has also grown is your curiosities since the two of you have moved onto university. Jungkook goes to the university uptown, a far drive which only forces him attend masses during the holidays. You attended the local community college, wrapping up a bachelors in some vague major that you’re not attached to. You’re currently looking around for some graduate schools, but unfortunately you’ve been so wrapped up doing duties for Pastor Nina that you haven’t been able to look around properly. 

Jungkook’s probably living a fun life, with the way he’s grown rough and loose, you resent him. 

When you turn back around, Jungkook’s right in front of you, trapping you between his body and the door.  

“Don’t be embarrassed, Bunny,” you furrow your brows, nearly growing cross-eyed when he leans in. “I think your crush is cute.” 

You’re not sure what he thinks of you. Sure, he considered everyone a friend when you two were in youth group, but that was youth group. Premeditated, parents forcing other children to do the same things with each other for years upon years in the hope they’ll practice together forever and ever. Jungkook did not want that, evident from the way he dipped his duties as soon as he got into university. 

You hate how easy he dips back into it though, calling you Bunny and making you feel like a little girl all over again. Bunny, because you’d hop around to him whenever he was in sight. Bunny, because Jungkook had been fondly compared to the wide-eyed, diamond-toothed creature. It was cute when you were five. Now, it’s just discomfiting. 

“Don’t call me that,” you bite, “and I don’t like you anymore.” 

“Sure you don’t,” he rolls his eyes, and you flinch when Jungkook’s hand rests on the curve of your waist, fingers slotting themselves between the pleats of your skirt. “That’s why you’re not moving away when I’m about to put my hand under your skirt. Because you don’t like me.” 

You press yourself further into the door, your skin hot and vibrating. So warm, you feel like you could melt through the door and escape from Jungkook’s gaze. Sure, the young ladies in the congregation talk. Maybe you’ve heard a story or two about Jungkook being seedy, a result of being repressed after years and years of stiff routines and expectations thrust upon him. You could care less about Jungkook’s sexual appetite, until this appetite has reached you. 

“Mm, you’re pretty,” Jungkook’s eyes roam your form, the daisy white blouse doing nothing to barricade Jungkook’s sudden interest in you, “you’ve never been touched like this, have you?” 

“I’ve touched myself like this,” you hiss in defense, and it’s more out of anger than in pleasure. You don’t need a man to comfort you, but Jungkook’s eyes sparkle in mirth at the new information. 

“That’s really sexy,” Jungkook slips down, roams his fingers down to your ankles and plays with the silver buckles of your Mary Janes. You shiver when his hands trail up up up to your knees, the swell of your thighs, and catch right under the elastic seam that holds your secrets together, “but I’ll have you know, it’s different when you have someone hold your pleasure in their hands.” 

You’re in the storage room of your church, fifteen minutes before the Christmas mass, with Jeon Jungkook’s head between your legs. Your skirt is long, and Jungkook doesn’t bother to ride it up your waist. 

It feels more forbidden that way, Jungkook hiding under the fabric of your skirt to get to your honeyed center, sneaking his way in with rough hands and soft touches.

“J-Jungkook,” you whimper, pressing your full spine against the wooden door, “we shouldn’t. N-not like this.”

What is wrong with you? Is it sheer curiosity? Do you just want to know what it finally, finally feels like? You should be pushing him away. There’s red lights flashing back and forth in your brain like sirens. Yet, do you really want to turn away the attention you’ve been aching for years? 

You imagined your first time to be relatively special. The bare minimum, a bed, a talk, and a partner you’re mutually committed to. None of those things are met. Now you understand why all the young women in church whisper about sex like this. It’s a spur of the moment, it’s an unbridled pleasure you don’t want to stop, no matter how forbidden and sinful the act is.  

“How else then?” you feel his deep voice straight through your panties, his lips whispering between the pink cotton like he’s sinking liquid heat into your skin. “I can’t sink my fingers into your sweet cunt during the candle lighting. Or when we open presents with the family after. That would be inappropriate.” 

Your replies come out in breaths, puffs of air that conceal the moans you so badly want to let out as Jungkook pokes and rubs at you. He does nothing beyond the cotton fabric, only slides two fingers up and down your slit as he gathers the arousal between his digits. 

“So wet already, that’s so sexy,” he’s kissing your core, and you sigh fretfully at the pleasure that feels so close yet so far away. 

“P-please, Jungkook…” 

“Please what?” Jungkook teases, fingers slipping back and forth between the elastic of your underwear, “please stop? Please touch me? Please fuck me?” 

The church bell answers that, and Jungkook’s nose knocks right into your bud at the sudden intrusion. You yelp at the jarring stimulation, pulling him from under your skirts as the loud noise echoes in the room. Both of you wince at the pain, the moment interjected. 

“You first,” Jungkook casually opens the door for you, as if he didn’t have you ten seconds away from begging him to make you come. 

You don’t even look at him as you dash away, not bothering to take the elevator in favor of running off the heat. Two minutes before the procession. The church is packed to the brim, only the back seats left. Your family probably gave up on waiting for you up in the front. As you sit down in the corner, you’re momentarily distracted by the beauty of a decorated church on Christmas. Even though you’re part of the decorating committee and commanded most of the design, seeing the stained glass lit up with fairy lights and the poinsettia plants blooming burgundy on the altar, you’re impressed. 

“There’s a draft here, you must be cold.” Jungkook talks to you so politely, a perfect picture of a gentleman as he drapes his leather jacket over your lap. He speaks as if it’s a pleasant surprise, a childhood friend he hasn’t seen in nearly a year. 

You can’t tell him to move when people are watching and Jungkook is seconds from interrupting the procession, so you reluctantly scoot over so he can sit next to you. His scent overwhelms you even more now that you’ll have to sit next to him for a whole hour, lavender and vanilla overtaking your pew. 

The jacket is heavy and heady on your lap, and you force yourself to stare straight ahead. Jungkook cannot weaken you like this, not anymore. 

Thirty minutes later, his fingers are hovering at the start of the homily, caressing your thighs under the jacket with his big hands. A draft? Please. You clamp your thighs together, knocking your knees and hoping they’d lock together for the rest of the mass. Jungkook’s a master key, easily parting his way as if your muscles are pure jelly. You turn your head sharply, glaring at him with all the fire in the world. 

“Careful,” Jungkook mouths, eyes flickering to the symbol atop the podium, “he’s watching.” 

His fingers finally brush the damp blush cotton of your panties, and you shudder. 

#ficswithluv #btsguild #btswritingcafe #kwritersworldnet #btsghostie #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #bts smut #bts fic #jungkook angst #bts angst #kpop fic #hansolmates

[acid-ixx]

IM JUST GONNA SAY SOMETHING.

ZHONGLI WITH FANGS.

That's it! Hope you have a great day!

[ rules ] zhongli with fangs hype <3 I LOVE HIM fluffy scenario with this bec im writing a hurt/comfort at the moment too. oh! i also do requests not in order. ik this isn't a request but i love the concept, obviously rushed. inspired by @myuni-moon

- fangs

You always wondered whether how sharp it is. Would it prick you? Draw out blood? Would it slowly drill a hole into something he bites? It glistens every time you gaze at it for too long. Sometimes, you noticed, that Zhongli gained a small habit of flickering his tongue on his right fang. Adorable, to say the least.

Most of the time, he hides those pesky little teeth, afraid you'll be intimidated. Yet the case stood the opposite.

"Can I see your fangs? Please?" One night, where the sky glimmered with pearls of newly born stars, you asked the man himself, calling him into your chambers. Curiosity, it always visited his consciousness, the answers he sought seemingly piquing his interest every time a question occurred.

Now, it was plainly the opposite; you sought for answers from him. Albeit pride necessarily shaping itself from your sheer orders, he can't help but divert his gaze from your ever-so-curious eyes to the carpet of your bedroom floors, cherry-color flushing the apple in his cheeks.

"Please?" You repeated again, tone desperate for a single approval, pressing him further into a predicament of choices.

How could one deny their Lord of any orders?

"Of course, your highness."

He grunted, you patted your silken sheets. He took the gesture and sat on the comfy mattress he specifically designed for you. You made your way to his lap, perching yourself comfortably in the position, surprising the ex-Archon, nonetheless, he relished in this Divine attention. After all, you've been nothing but patient for him.

A thumb nudged at his lips, urging him to open. He complied after a bit of pondering, tongue lolling out as there you see his alluringly shaped fangs. He dared not move his face away - lest he'll find disappointment measuring into self-torment- the look of splendor enough to keep him steady. Though, his arms moved to secure your back into his lap, kneading your hips as you lean your face more to his.

"They're so beautiful, Zhongli," You complimented, clusters of stars sprinkling into your eyes and gleaming, brightening the room. "May I touch it?"

"Of course you may, My God." His approval was enough to satiate your growing interest, slowly guiding your thumb to his right fang, playing with its curved shape. You both sat there in the comfort of the night, the time the pair spent estimating about an hour or two with your probing mind. Each of your questions slowly dwindles away, like grapes plucked out of a vine, they're set to grow once more in another season.

"Thank you so much, Zhongli," your gratitude earned a subtle smile, his eyes crinkling at the sides as you're off to slumber, a yawn dozing you off to the comfort of dreams.

#yandere zhongli #yandere genshin impact #self aware genshin #genshin self aware #anemone.drabbles #yandere x reader

[fruitcoops]

Hi Eve! Just wondering if you could write a coops smut where one of them wears lingerie? You sort of explored the concept in the Valentines Day smut where Sirius wore thigh highs, but i was maybe thinking a fic where one of them wears a full set. Its all completely up to you!

How about both? Happy smutty Monday, folks! Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove

TW for smut, subspace/ subdrop

It was Friday, and Remus was learning the glory of stockings on hockey thighs.

It was Thursday, and he began to wonder how to repay his lovely fiancé.

It was Sunday, two weeks after Valentine’s Day, and between flashes of thunder outside and damn near howls of pleasure into their traumatized pillows, Remus was still thinking about the socks.

It was Tuesday, a bye week, and the last piece of his plan clicked into place as Sirius hefted him further over the countertop by the muscle of his thigh with one hand keeping his chest flush to the cool marble.

It was Wednesday, and Remus smiled to himself as Sirius snuggled closer in the darkness of a quiet night in. He ran an absentminded hand through inky curls, relishing the soft puffs of Sirius’ breath on the hollow of his throat while their legs remained comfortably tangled. You have no idea what’s coming, he thought, letting his lips linger on Sirius’ forehead. No idea at all.

It was Sunday, and Remus had spent two minutes hyping himself up in the bathroom mirror. The rustling from their bedroom had stopped long before. “Alright, you can do this,” he murmured, leaning his hands on the edge of the sink. “You look hot. This isn’t weird. He’s gonna lose his fucking mind.”

“Mon loup?”

Anxiety leaped in Remus’ stomach. “One second!” he called back through the closed door. He stared at himself for a moment longer, then sighed. It was a stupid idea—there was no way Sirius would want to see him in something as silly as this. He looked ridiculous, and it wasn’t even worth it; any clothing would be off in a heartbeat anyway. Sirius always preferred skin-to-skin contact.

The lacy edge of the garter belt itched the peak of his hip as he blew out a slow breath. Did Remus still dream about Sirius’ thigh highs over a month later? Yes. Did that guarantee Sirius would have a similar reaction to seeing him in actual lingerie? Not necessarily.

Remus liked guarantees. They were safe. Soothing. Unquestionable.

“Are you alright?” Sirius’ voice floated through the door on a wave of concern.

Fuck it. The bathroom lights caught the silver buckles. It’s now or never. “You can’t laugh, okay?” he warned, closing a hand around the knob.

“I won’t. I have a surprise for you, too.”

That bit of curiosity gave him that last push of courage he needed to open the door and step out of the safety of the bathroom. His pulse skyrocketed, though whether it was from the sudden feeling of absolute exposure or the sight of Sirius waiting on their bed in some sort of sheer, lacy top, Remus couldn’t tell. Sirius stared at him, lips slightly parted. Remus cleared his throat and spread his hands. “Surprise?”

“Oh.”

“You look—you look great,” he managed lamely. There were a million better words to describe the lavender fabric cascading over the planes of Sirius’ chest, but his brain had been replaced by the blush prickling up his neck and face. Going for the basic black garter belt and underwear suddenly seemed subpar instead of classically sexy.

Sirius shifted on his knees and reached for him. “Viens ici.”

“It—” Remus faltered. His chest and legs were bare, save for the satiny clasps holding the garters in place on his thighs. Sirius was just staring, like he couldn’t believe his eyes. It had been a long time since he felt self-conscious around Sirius; every bit of missed embarrassment flooded back at once as he sat on the foot of the bed. “I liked your socks on Valentine’s Day, and I figured—I dunno. This is the surprise, by the way.”

“C’mere.” Sirius’ eyes finally flickered up to his face without a trace of judgement.

“I’m here.”

“Here,” Sirius repeated, tugging him over to straddle his lap with an arm around Remus’ waist. He kissed him, soft and slow but undeniably wanting, before he leaned back. “You look so handsome, mon coeur.”

“Yeah?”

“Ouais.” And, god, if Remus didn’t love the way his voice curled around that word, turning it into a million perfectly lazy syllables.

He rolled the hem of Sirius’ top between his fingers and hummed against his mouth. “This is new.”

“You like it?”

“Mhmm.” It was hard to tear his eyes away from the shadow of muscle beneath the delicate fabric.

Mischief flickered over Sirius’ face. “It’s called a ‘babydoll’. Thought you might get a kick out of that.”

“Babydoll for my baby,” Remus teased, kissing his nose with a playful tug to the lace edges. Sirius’ gaze slipped back down to his lap—no, his legs—and his fingers toyed with the seam of the accompanying underwear. Remus placed a light kiss to the shell of his ear, watching every twitch of his hands. “What do you want?”

“To look at you.” There was nothing but honesty when Sirius glanced back to him. The intensity of it sent a spark up Remus’ spine; he had grown so used to Sirius’ general aura of focus that he had nearly forgotten what it felt like wholly directed on him.

“And…?”

“And nothing. Just to look.” Nervousness flickered across his fine features as he settled back against the headboard and pulled Remus with him. “Just for a minute, and then we can do whatever you—”

Remus silenced him with a kiss, bracketing his waist with his palms. The babydoll was like water under his touch, but Sirius was as solid as ever. “This is for you,” he said when they separated. “You can look for as long as you like.”

Except Sirius didn’t only want to look—he wanted to touch. That fact was made clear within seconds, when the hands smoothing up and down Remus’ thighs in rhythmic motions began dipping beneath the straps of his garter belt and sliding up to his narrow hips, then hooked around the backs of his bent knees. Sirius pressed one palm flat over his abs and Remus shivered, trailing his lips down his neck. He wasn’t aroused in the lightning-fast please please I need you now kind of way, but more of an I’m about to float into space if you don’t keep touching me like a treasure buzz.

“Re, honey,” Sirius murmured. It was only then that Remus realized most of his breaths were coming in short pants instead of kisses. The nickname was one of his favorites, reserved for the times when he was well and truly gone; it was more tender than mon coeur, and worlds more intimate than his own name or even sweetheart. He nipped the edge of Sirius’ jaw and felt him gasp.

Remus licked his lips as he pulled away just enough to speak. “D’you want me to take it off?”

“Never.”

He smiled. “It has to come off if you want to fuck me.”

“Deux pièces.” The arm around his lower back tightened as one hand came to rest on his ass, which was still fully covered by lace-lined black fabric. Remus had opted for the ‘boyshort’ choice, as it looked to be the most likely to prevent slippage.

That, and it had fewer strappy bits. The buckles were hard enough to figure out—adding an accidental wedgie into the mix seemed like a poor idea.

“Yeah, but the important piece can only come off if I take the fun one off first,” Remus explained, snapping one of the ties. Sirius stared at it for a long moment before blinking slowly.

“Are you sure?”

“Giving me puppy eyes isn’t going to flip this inside out, babes,” Remus laughed. “Two seconds.”

“But you’ll keep the fun part on, right?” Sirius slid down to lay next to him while he wrestled with the garter belt, hissing curses each time the buckles pinched his fingers. It was, quite possibly, the least sexy thing he had ever done. That did not seem to deter his fiancé—if anything, watching Remus struggle with black satin strips in the dark while laying flat on his back appeared to be the highlight of Sirius’ day.

The fog in his head cleared a bit as he worked his underwear down his thighs, being careful not to mess with the garters too much. It had taken him five full minutes to get the damn things on in the first place, and he wasn’t exactly in the mood to waste another five that could be spent in much more pleasurable ways. “The ‘fun part’—” Remus couldn’t spare a hand to do air quotes, but he hoped Sirius got the gist. “—is a lot more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Nope.”

He paused. “You’re not the one losing a fight to a few scraps of fabric.”

Sirius met his eyes, looking every inch the fallen angel with his hair splayed over the pillow and his lavender whatever-the-hell-glory pooling at his mid-chest. “Do you want me to take it off for you?”

“I thought you wanted the fun part to stay on.”

“Here.” Remus barely managed to kick the underwear off his ankles before Sirius shuffled over to lay between his thighs and attach his mouth just beneath the left garter.

“Oh, fuck me,” Remus huffed, letting his head fall back against the pillows.

“Gimme a minute,” Sirius said into his skin while he licked a stripe up to the first buckle and carefully pulled it down to hook into its proper place. Remus arched his back, only to be pushed down a moment later as Sirius electrified patches of skin he didn’t even know he had. Teeth slipped along the curve of his muscle and nibbled just above the back of his knee; Remus clenched his hands in the sheets with a shuddering inhale and tried his best to keep his wits about him.

By the time Sirius moved on to his other thigh, he was a goner. He could practically feel his pulse through his dick and the fog had returned with a vengeance, blurring the world at the edges while he let go of the tension in his back. How could he possibly be stressed when Sirius was saying such pretty things? The warmth of lips on his thighs disappeared and he stretched his arms above his head, relishing in his own contentment and Sirius’ light laugh. “You’re lovely,” he mumbled. Really, it was the only appropriate word for the occasion.

There was a rustling sound next to him, but Remus didn’t bother paying attention to what it was—Sirius’ weight all around him was more than enough to occupy—

“Oh.” His eyes flashed open as a lube-slick finger pushed into him to the first knuckle. “Oh.”

“Were you listening?” Sirius sounded faintly amused. Remus smiled lazily; he must have missed a joke (or a warning) somewhere in the tumble of words from that lovely pout. He rocked his hips onto Sirius’ finger, stretching one leg out as the other remained bent and tilted away. It was only kept in place by Sirius’ free hand, but even the idea of being held sent a tingling feeling all the way to his toes.

“How many?” Remus asked, looping his arms under Sirius’ to pull him closer. He needed warmth, and the smooth familiarity of Sirius’s chest against his own. He needed the encompassing feeling of being covered, which had yet to fade, no matter how much more muscle he gained.

Sirius smiled into the side of his neck. “Two.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm. Are you still with me?”

“Sure.” The world zoomed back into 3D focus when Sirius’ fingers brushed his sweet spot and Remus gripped his shoulder blades with a hitch of breath—his free leg jerked inward at the sudden shift. “There. There, now.”

“I have other plans, sweetheart.”

“Now,” Remus insisted. He would give Sirius anything he wanted if it meant he could feel that thrill again. Their bedroom was dim, but the lights popping at the corners of his vision as Sirius closed a hand around his shaft and continued sliding two fingers into him were so very bright. Remus moved his hands down from Sirius’ shoulders to his hips, then lower to give him a hint. “Now?”

“I was going to do three—”

“Now,” Remus said, brooking no room for argument. He pushed Sirius’ chest until he rolled onto his back—bless the man for his quick thinking skills, because Remus’ new muscle still wasn’t enough to manhandle him properly—and settled himself into his previous position on Sirius’ lap.

A dark eyebrow arched, though his dilated pupils gave away Sirius’ true feelings. “Like this?”

“You said you wanted to look, didn’t you?” Thinking back, Remus couldn’t imagine how he could ever have been worried about this. He took a few deep breaths as he sank down, biting hard on his lip against the dizzy want prodding the edges of his mind. This needed to last. Sirius’ mouth was cherry red and wet when he glanced down, fully seated and feeling rather confident about the whole thing. “Then look.”

The first rock of his hips brought a whimper from plush lips and Remus grinned; he took Sirius’ hands and planted them on his thighs before bracing his own against the broad planes of his chest. Silky fabric parted under his palms and his smile widened into giddiness as he slid his hands beneath it to rest on warm skin. Sirius pushed the side of his face into the pillow with a huff of breath.

“No,” Remus panted as he continued to move, pulling Sirius’ chin back up. His hands were shaking when he cupped his face. “Look. L—look at me.”

Sirius’ brows pitched and his silver gaze flickered down to the garter belt; Remus let his head fall back as long fingers toyed with the straps, sometimes tugging gently, sometimes snapping fireworks through his legs. The power shift between them ebbed and flowed like the tide. He wanted a tsunami.

He worked the words around in his mouth for a moment, unsure of how to ask for what he wanted. One of Sirius’ hands traveled to his back and began moving in steady presses up and down his spine. “Fuck me,” Remus pleaded.

A synchronized roll of their hips made them both moan. “I am,” Sirius said breathlessly.

Remus licked his lips and made a valiant effort to get air back into his lungs. “Please.”

His expression must have made the message clear enough, because understanding rippled across the puzzlement on Sirius’ face in mere moments; with a firm squeeze, Remus’ hips stopped cold. Mistake, his brain thought immediately as Sirius’ dick rested directly on his prostate. Mistake, mistake, keep moving or you’re gonna—

“Remus.”

The whine that tore from his mouth would have been embarrassing if he had any self-conscious braincells left to spare. He bit his lip again, teetering on a knife’s edge while his thighs shook and his knees slid on the sheets.

“Deep breaths.”

One.

“One more for me.”

Two. He was wheezing slightly with the effort of keeping down his moans.

“Try again.”

A frustrated grumble built in his chest, but he obliged. Three. The air was warm and smelled like Sirius; it was intoxicating. His next breath was even deeper, and he let it fill him.

“Good job.”

Something in Remus perked its ears up and he managed a lopsided smile, blinking his eyes open to look down at Sirius. His face was still soft, but his eyes had a tarnished edge to them that sent a shiver down Remus’ spine and nearly undid all his hard work.

“Color?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Green.”

“Are you slipping?”

Slipping, slipped, gone for good, he thought. “Mhmm.”

Sirius laid him back down, catching himself from sliding out at the last second. Remus arched his back at the slow press in. “How do you want it?”

“I already told you twice,” he said, planting a kiss to Sirius’ upper lip. The warm touch around his thighs had not faltered yet. “Come on, Captain, you know what I want.”

Sirius positioned his legs to wrap around his waist and kissed him fully, stealing the breath from Remus’ body in one fell swoop as he began to move his hips again; the pace increased so steadily that Remus nearly lost himself in it. The lace of the garter belt no longer itched, but slid in a blissful rhythm instead. The bits of cold where the small buckles rubbed against his skin were a mind-melting contrast to the cocoon of warmth he sank into.

“M—” Remus didn’t even get the word out before Sirius gave him a hard thrust and pressed their tangled fingers further into the mattress. He muffled a shout into the dip of his shoulder and sucked a mark there between moans. “Oh, fuck, Sirius.”

His head was spinning with the mixture of sensations—he had been so focused on being full that he almost forgot about the hand still moving terribly slow along his shaft. One leg kicked out on its own accord and he twitched, one hip canting upward until Sirius held it back down without breaking stride. Remus’ breaths were little more than staccato moans; he knew bringing out Sirius’ dominant side was an easy switch to flip, but he hadn’t been expecting the change to be quite so sudden. Not that he was complaining, of course.

Sirius let go of his hand to drag his leg back up, fingertips digging in just below the garter as the new angle drew a desperate ‘holy shit’ from Remus and a squeak of protest from their bedsprings. He had forgotten how long it had been since Sirius truly railed his lights out—the tingling sensation racing through his thighs and up to his chest was a welcome companion.

And he began to laugh.

Breathless and practically hiccups, but a laugh all the same. He could see Sirius’ confusion in his mind’s eye despite the fact that he had given up on trying to keep his eyes open several thrusts prior. The movement slowed. “What?” Sirius asked. “What’s so funny?”

“I fucking love you,” Remus said between gasps.

“Why are you laughing?”

“I don’t know.” Something warm slid down his cheek. “It’s so good and I can’t—I don’t know. Keep moving, please, please.”

Sirius’ thumb swiped across his cheekbone and he picked up the pace again; Remus’ shocked laughter faded back into panting and babbling within a few seconds, but the pure elation didn’t slip until he felt his orgasm approaching and resorted to leaving a trail of sloppy kisses along the line of Sirius’ collarbone and neck. Sirius liked his mouth, liked feeling it on him, and Remus could tell that he was getting close by the heat building under his palms where he struggled to find a handhold.

“I l—I lo—I love you,” he managed, adding a love bite to his collection around a groan. They were both sweaty messes, but the salt on his lips was exactly what he wanted.

“I love you, too.” Sirius’ voice was just as labored as his own, buzzing against every pleasure center Remus had.

“I lo—” He broke off with a strangled shout as Sirius squeezed the sensitive part of his thigh at the same time as a thrust. There was nowhere for his mouth to go. He bit down hard on instinct.

Sirius hissed in pain and Remus immediately pulled away, feeling frantic and worried and awful. “Ow.”

“ ‘m sorry,” he said, still a little wild as he covered Sirius’ cheek in apologetic kisses and searched for a hand to hold. “ ‘m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I promise.”

“It’s okay,” Sirius assured him, soothing his hands as they skimmed across his body. “Just surprised me.”

“Didn’t mean to hurt you.” Horror tried to push in around the tangle of joy-want-need-more, but there simply wasn’t room. Remus settled for running his trembling fingers through Sirius’ hair and kissing him gently. He hoped it would be enough.

“You didn’t hurt me,” Sirius said against his lips, rubbing circles with his thumb in the crease of Remus’ hip and thigh. The whirlwind in his head calmed to tv static—the world tunneled to them and their bed. Remus buried his face in Sirius’ neck and slid deep under.

He registered the pressure of Sirius’ hands and the feeling of his own throat pouring out nonsense; he felt his muscles clench and the slide of satin on sweaty skin before balling his fists so tight in Sirius’ babydoll top that it nearly tore. He heard his own breaths become shallow, knew it was Sirius’ hand running along the crown of his dick, and finally, finally shuddered apart with a hitching whine.

“Re, honey.”

Remus sighed through his nose and held him close. He was beyond comfortable, if not a little sticky. Again, his body suggested.

No, his brain answered immediately.

Yes.

No.

Yes.

No.

“I can’t,” Remus slurred.

Lips pressed against the corner of his mouth. “What can’t you do?”

“Go again.”

He felt laughter from the weight above him—Sirius, his brain supplied with a happy fizz down his back—and let his legs be pulled back down to the mattress. “Yeah, not a chance.”

The warmth inside him slipped away and he winced. “Put it back.”

“Nope.”

“Why?”

“Cause we’re definitely done.” The laughter returned, bright as a summer day, and he rubbed his face in the hollow of angular collarbones where the vibration was strongest. “How are you feeling?”

“Noodle.”

“Okay, sweetheart.”

Remus closed his eyes and stifled a yawn; the world could wait until he was done with his nap.

“Hey.” Someone tapped his hip and he frowned. “No falling asleep yet.”

“I’m tired.”

“I know, but we need water and a shower.”

Remus squirmed around until he could fix Sirius with a look. “Can’t stand up.”

“You hate sleeping while you’re sweaty.”

Fair point. Remus became suddenly and harshly aware of how sticky he was and pulled a face, flexing his fingers on Sirius’ back. The high was softening; he felt more settled in himself already. He nudged Sirius until he laid down, then curled into his ribs with an arm and a leg slung over his body. The aftershocks raced in pops of lightning down his legs. “Teddy bear.”

“Hmm?”

“Teddy bear,” he repeated. “ ’s all you are, at the end of the day. I love it. I love you.”

Sirius pulled him closer and kissed his temple. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.” He stretched all four limbs and felt his elbow pop, then relaxed. “Much better. Alright, I need to get this thing off.”

If trying to put the garter belt on had been difficult, it was nothing compared to forcing his unsteady and sweat-slick fingers to get it off. “Do you need some help?” Sirius asked, amused.

“No.”

He struggled for a moment longer, spoiling the sweetness of the drop with frustration, before Sirius’ hands replaced his own and carefully untied each strap so he could get it off properly. “There you go.”

Remus kicked it to the floor and glared balefully at it. “I love you, but I’m never wearing that again.”

“Never?”

“Maybe one more time,” he conceded. The confidence boost had been dizzying. “As long as you keep this.”

Sirius looked down at where Remus’ fingers were tugging with the hem of his slip. “I really like it, too.”

“The color’s nice.”

“C’mere.” Sirius wrapped his other arm around Remus’ shoulders and drew him in for a snuggle, rubbing his back with one hand. “Let me know when I can get us some water, okay?”

“You can go, if you need to.”

“Really?”

He hesitated, then moved his head to rest above Sirius’ heartbeat. “No.”

“D’accord.” Sirius kissed his forehead again.

Remus lasted three minutes before he couldn’t stand the tacky feeling of the lube any longer, but those three minutes were the coziest he could remember. Sirius was warm and traced patterns over his bare skin; his soft lips decorated Remus’ face, simultaneously lulling him and keeping him from falling asleep. With a sigh, he detached his arms. “Okay.”

“I’ll be right back,” Sirius promised. The room was darker without him—the bed stayed warm. Remus scooted over into the indent he left and basked in the memory, cataloguing his aches. Abs? Sore. Arms? Still good. Thighs? A bit chafed from lace, but alright. Neck? Scattered with love bites he couldn’t recall receiving, though that was a fairly common occurrence.

“That was quick,” he mumbled when the other side of the mattress dipped.

Sirius shrugged. The babydoll shift was tragically absent. “The usual two minutes, actually.”

“Must have zoned out,” he hummed, leaning into the cool washcloth on his face. A few tears always slipped out when they dipped into rougher territory, though he never felt sad. It was just…overwhelming, in the best way.

Sirius cleaned his thighs with the same careful touch as his face before handing him a cup of water. “Are you hungry?”

“Nope.” Remus downed the glass in two gulps and opened his arms. “Bedtime.”

“No pajamas?” Sirius asked with a laugh, though he obliged and let Remus laminate himself to his side.

“Unnecessary.”

“No shower?”

His instinctive response was god no, cuddles take precedence and I’m dead on my feet, but a shower did sound nice. Sirius washing his hair, scrubbing the last bits of shakiness and his drop away, going to bed clean…

“Alright,” he agreed grudgingly. “We’re probably going to need to change the sheets, too.”

“That can wait until we’re done.” And before he could even attempt to stand on his own, Sirius gathered him into his arms and hoisted him off the bed. If he wasn’t afraid he’d fall flat on his face without help, Remus would have protested. “Mon dieu, I forgot how muscly you are now.”

“Says the man who can’t stop ogling me whenever I take my shirt off,” Remus teased, then frowned when he saw the purpling bruise on Sirius’ neck. “Holy shit, my dentist could identify me with that thing. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Sirius paused in the bathroom doorway and kissed him hard, stirring the last dregs of arousal in Remus’ gut. “You have blanket permission to do that whenever you like.”

Remus gaped at him, speechless. “Well, that’s not fair,” he managed. “I’m tired.”

“Not a bad way to spend a Sunday night,” Sirius mused. His sneaky squeeze of Remus’ ass did not go unnoticed. “In my personal opinion, of course.”

“Of course,” Remus said drily. Maybe a shower wasn’t the worst idea after all. His knees weren’t nearly sore enough yet.

#remus lupin #sirius black #coops #smut #my fic #fanfic #sweater weather #vaincre #lumosinlove #lingerie #subspace #subdrop

[sluttyminghao]

a different kind of workout | k.sy

w.c: 2k request: yes genre: smut pairing: soonyoung x female!reader contains: semi-public sex, dirty talk (mans gotta filthy mouth), slight nipple play, marking, oral (f.receiving), this is also very unedited i apologise a/n: this is just a pile of filth and i blame it all on kwon soonyoung and this video

When you agreed to go and do a workout at the gym with Soonyoung, you figured he would go nice and easy on you, and make you sweat maybe a little. You figured that it would be a breeze and he would show you the ropes, maybe even do some spotting for each other with the weights and just enjoy each others presence while hyping each other up in the process.

You were wrong. You were so, so very wrong.

With the time of night you both attended the gym, which was quite late in the evening after most had already gone to bed, there were no other signs of life present in the building, not even at the front desk where you signed in. As you walked behind your boyfriend, you took the time to admire his back muscles that were rippling slightly from his movements. His singlet shirt obstructed any more of your view of his delectable body, but you knew that getting to see him workout would highlight those areas you loved even more, and had your mouth watering at the thought.

You headed into the gym room, with all the equipment set up neatly and the room smelling faintly of sweat and metal. You heaved a sigh as you looked around at all of the equipment, your mind wandering off to how some of this equipment even worked. Soonyoung had already found what he was going to be doing, and made a beeline towards his favourite pieces of equipment. 

What you didn't expect, however, was when he had stopped in front of the equipment, his shirt had come off and tossed into his duffel bag, ultimately exposing his entire upper body to you and causing your eyes to almost bulge out of your skull, almost comically. He had been working on his upper body quite a lot recently when he came to the gym, which was evident in his toned abs and biceps that were growing bigger by the week. 

Your gawking didn't go amiss by Soonyoung, who only merely smirked at you with no words spoken and headed straight to the weights table. He picked up a 10kg dumbbell in each hand and began moving them up and down in a steady pace. As you continued to watch his arms move fluidly, you ogled the bulge on his arm, noting a large vein that ran through the muscle. You admired him from afar, slowly setting your own duffel bag down and heading towards the elliptical machine. 

His eyes followed you as you set yourself up on the gym apparatus, his cock twitching when you bent down and he got a nice view of the curve of your ass. As you began to move on the elliptical slowly, a smirk fell upon his lips when he noticed how your boobs bounced inside of your cropped shirt. “That top looks good on you, sweetheart, but maybe you should take it off. We don't want it to get sweaty or anything,” he spoke nonchalantly, moving his hand down so that the weights were now back on the table.

You all but stumbled over your own feet at his sudden comment, your face burning with embarrassment. Luckily he didn't seem to notice, as he had now turned his back to you and moved over towards the pull up bar. Your eyes deceived you however, as they drifted further down on his body, landing directly on his sharp v-line that didn't seem to end. You bit your lip as you watched him stretch out, his muscles contorting and you let out a small moan. God he was so hot.

Your movements on the elliptical machine slowed significantly as he jumped and let his body dangle from the bar, his back muscles even more prominent even though he was hardly doing anything. You kept your eyes trained on his back as he began to push himself up and over the bar, his muscles contracting and moving so deliciously under his skin. The lighting in the gym didn't do you any favours either, only enhancing how beautifully toned he was.

You felt your tongue swipe out across your lips, and it was only then that Soonyoung noticed you in the mirror, and he chuckled. Your trance was broken at his laugh, and it was only then you realized how wet you were, and you couldn't help but to squeeze your thighs together to alleviate some of the pressure that was beginning to build up inside of you.

He continued to notice your movements, mainly the way you were shuffling around and moving to lean against the elliptical which had now been long forgotten in your eyes. He did a few more reps on the pull up bar, before he let go and planted his feet on the ground. He whipped around quickly and took fast steps to where you were still leaning against the elliptical, with a large smirk painted on his face.

“You like what you see huh? You haven't been able to take your eyes off of me the entire time we’ve been here,” he commented, his eyes becoming lidded they grazed hungrily over your body, clad with only your crop top and some active shorts. You could hardly find the words to reply to him, your mind becoming clouded with lustful thoughts of your boyfriend.

You were snapped back to reality with Soonyoung’s fingers being pressed firmly  against your jaw, and his dark eyes boring into your own. “I expect you to answer me, sweetheart, or are you too busy thinking about me fucking you right here and now?” His voice was saccharine sweet in comparison to his filthy words, and only made you clench your thighs tighter.

All you could do was nod your head and whimper a little as his grip tightened once more on your jaw, a dark chuckle falling from his lips. “Such a needy girl you are, huh? Don’t you worry, I’m going to take care of you,” he muttered softly into your skin. Before you could say a word to him, his hands had made quick work of your crop top, pulling it over your head and throwing it on top of the elliptical machine. His hands were immediately on your breasts, fondling and caressing your nipples and the skin surrounding it.

“Soonyoung...” you finally whined out, your hands flying up to his hair and tugging on it softly. A soft hiss left his lips at the tugging, and he slammed his lips into yours, his kiss hungry and wanting. He pulled himself away from your lips seconds later, a small string of saliva connecting the two of you as he moved. When he was fully standing, he pulled your hand up so that you would stand also, his body flush against yours. He wasted no time pulling your shorts down your legs, exposing your wetness and throbbing pussy to the air and his eyes. 

He groaned at the sight of your pussy, which made him immediately bend down so that he was situated on his knees and spread your thighs apart, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips. “So beautiful, i cant wait to fuck you, but first, I need a taste of this sweet pussy of yours” he spoke against your skin, leaving light kisses on the tops of your thighs. You pushed your hand further into his hair, a louder whine escaping your lips from his teasing.

“Stop...teasing...” you whispered, your eyes scrunching shut as you felt his tongue sweep across your inner thighs, collecting the juices that had been spread across them. Without warning, his tongue poked out and licked a flat stripe up your folds, an appreciative hum coming from his mouth while a broken moan escaped yours.

“M-more please!” You managed to squeak out between his quick tongue movements, making Soonyoung chuckle and spread your legs even further apart, and he began a steady pace alternating between licking and sucking on your folds, and loving how your legs were beginning to shake from his tongue alone. 

You couldn't help but open your eyes to peek at your boyfriend between your legs, his platinum blond mop of hair the only thing you could see until he looked up at you briefly with a cheeky grin. His chin was covered in your juices, and you felt your face burn up out of sheer embarrassment, before you were shoving his head back down between your thighs so that you could reach your high.

“You taste so fucking good, sweetheart, maybe you taste even sweeter because we might get caught here?” He spoke briefly, his tongue dipping to poke at your entrance. You yelped at his action, and a lewd moan left your lips when he repeated the action over and over, the familiar tension in your abdomen from your incoming orgasm building up inside of you.

He chuckled at how needy you had become in such a short span of time, before he was removing his tongue from you and wiping his hand over his lips, sucking up the excess juices. You whined in annoyance and felt your entrance clenching around nothing, but you didn't have time to complain to him when you felt his erection prod at your entrance.

“You’re such a needy little slut, only want my cock huh? You can’t even go a few hours without it, we’re having sex in a fucking gym because you can't stop ogling at my body,” he spoke through gritted teeth, pushing himself inside of your tight entrance. Your fingers clawed at his lean shoulders, a lascivious moan escaping your lips at the feeling.

His filthy words bounced around in your mind constantly, alongside his quick thrusts that made your eyes roll back in your head. The adrenaline was pumping through both of you in high amounts, at the thought of possibly being caught and how you were doing it in such a public and open space. Soonyoung’s thrusts began to pick up speed once more, his moans becoming louder the closer he got to his orgasm.

Your mind was so clouded with lustful thoughts and of Soonyoung fucking you in a gym, that you didn't even register him leaning down and sucking on your neck, leaving light bruises to bloom on your skin. When he was satisfied with his work, he chuckled and ran a hand through your hair, tugging at your roots so that you would make eye contact with him.

“God you’re so fucking tight, and you keep clenching around me and sucking me in...your pussy is made for me, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he moaned, his hips beginning to stutter. You could feel the tension in your abdomen about to snap, and your whines grew higher in pitch and drove Soonyoung to his brink, his cum beginning to spill inside of you.

As he painted your walls white with his cum, he moved one of his shaky hands down to your clit and rubbed it quickly and roughly, sending you into a mind-blowing orgasm that made your back arch and your eyes roll. Soonyoung’s chest swelled with pride at the sight of you all fucked out on his cock, your breathing heavy and skin glistening with sweat.

Once you had come back from your high, you noticed Soonyoung had already redressed himself and was bringing out a towel from his bag, walking back over to you and wiping the towel over your skin gently. “Well, that was a different kind of workout wasn't it?”

You could only grin at him as you began to redress, pulling your top over your head and smoothing out your shorts. “You could say that, but were you really complaining? You got to fuck me in a gym,” you countered, his cheeks glowing pink at your statement and turning away from you.

“It was very fun, I’ll admit that, I just hope that no-one has to look at the cctv cameras unless they really want to enjoy a show,” Soonyoung chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you walked out into the cool night breeze.

#seventeen #seventeen scenario #seventeen smut #seventeen soonyoung #seventeen hoshi #seventeen imagines #kwon soonyoung #soonyoung #hoshi #hoshi smut #soonyoung smut #svt #svt smut #svt imagine #kpop #kpop smut #kpop imagine #kpop scenario

[glowingbadger]

Ok I saw arranged marriage content so let's take this over to Fire Emblem Fates with Xander!! I am still weak lol

I am legit so hyped that a bunch of you have really latched onto the arranged marriage concept lol I've been having a ton of fun with it. That said, man, I feel like I struggled with this one .-. I ended up just leaning into my desire to write about sucking Daddy Xander's cock, so here we are.

Xander (FE: Fates) x AFAB Reader - arranged marriage

NSFW 18+ v

Your wedding ceremony to the now-King of Nohr had been performed in tandem with his coronation in the scramble to re- stabilize the country. The people had their King, and now they had their Queen, and the promise of a continued royal bloodline that came with your union. And yet the reality of your situation had not taken full hold in your mind.

You'd met the Crown Prince a handful of times before the ceremony. He had an undeniably regal bearing about him- a stoic, masculine sort of dignity. He was polite towards you, if perhaps a little aloof. Though, you wondered if that was merely the difference in culture between your nations. Upon meeting him, you were predominantly relieved that he didn't seem to be a brute like Nohr's prior infamous ruler. Not to mention... He was, admittedly, quite handsome.

But now, the obligatory festivities of the day have concluded, and you've been led to your new bedchambers in the castle that was to be your home. Maids undress you, relieving you of layers upon layers of the frilled and laced fabrics that represent the latest Nohrian fashions. As nimble hands free you from heavy skirts, it gradually begins to dawn on you: you will be expected to bear and heir for King Xander, and sooner rather than later. Your face warms at the thought, and though one of the maids asks if you're feeling well, you wave her away and attempt to approach the idea with all of the easy dignity and poise that would be expected of the Queen of Nohr.

And yet... you realize that the thought of your Lord Husband claiming you wasn't an unappealing one by any means. Surely, as King, he would take you at his leisure, with the expectation that you provide for him in pleasure and in sons.

The maids leave you in what you can only hope is specially selected bridal lingerie (you can't imagine having to wear this elaborate arrangement of white lace each and every night). You're only granted a few minutes to survey the room- the flickering amber light of the candles, books piled neatly on a well-used desk, luxurious yet tasteful curtains and bedsheets. Before long, the heavy oaken door opens, and you're alone with your husband for the first time.

He looks... surprised? His eyes scan your body, decorated with frills and sheer fabric, and you can't be sure in the dim candlelight, but you could swear his complexion reddens.

He says your name, rather stiffly. You nod.

"My Lord Husband." you reply. He runs a hand through curling blonde hair, exhaling softly, then seems to regain himself. He begins to undress, loosing the cravat at his throat, and then pauses to say,

"I- I hope you don't mind terribly-"

"Of course not." You say with a smile. You approach him, and, as you imagine you're expected to do, you help him to remove his clothing. Light brushes of your fingers across his body cause you both to burn inside and out, but neither of you object or pull away. Until, at last, he's left only in a fitted white undershirt and black trousers.

Without a word, you lower onto your knees before him. You hear him inhale sharply, then murmur your name with an odd rasp in his voice. Your hands run up his thighs to the growing bulge at the front of his pants, palming it gently on your way to the hem. When you tug down his clothing, his cock springs free, already quite hard and flushed dark with need. Evidently, the lingerie that had been selected for you was quite to his liking. You can't help but appreciate the sight of his manhood standing tall mere inches from your lips. Then, as you lean in to take him in your mouth, a gentle hand strokes your hair, encouraging you to instead glance upward at Xander's eyes.

"Y/N, you... you are not obligated to... that is to say-"

"Do you not want this...?" You ask, eyes wide, and perhaps innocent if not for how they kept darting back to his hardened length hovering before you.

"I- I quite evidently do want it- want you," he stammers out, his face burning a dark crimson, "But to prostrate yourself at my feet is-"

"Xander," you say, surprised at the warmth in your own voice. Your hands cling to the front of his clothing, and when you speak, your breath unwittingly brushes the head of his cock, "I... would like to please my husband, if you'll have me."

You detect the barest hint of a stifled groan as you finally wrap your lips around the warm, bulging head of his manhood. It responds immediately despite Xander's attempts at restraint, pulsing eagerly against your mouth's grip. Slowly, you ease down his shaft, squeezing the tip between your tongue and the roof of your mouth, sucking rhythmically as you work down his length. His cock continues to betray his pleasure, twitching and swelling out against the wet warmth around it. By the time the head prods against the back of your throat, his hands are stroking your hair once more.

"Y/N, I... Nngh..." His head tilts back, and you detect the slightest little motions of his hips, pushing the tip of his cock into the wonderfully tight heat of your throat, "I had hoped to be better to you," he says so softly you're not even sure he intends for the words to reach you, "To use you in such a way... is... unforgiveable..."

You force yourself down to the base of his shaft, taking the full size of his member, struggling to keep your throat open enough not to gag. Xander groans above you, yet his guilt is evident even in this sound of absolute pleasure. Slowly, so that he can savor the sensation, you pull away from him, your lips sucking tight around him every inch until your release him. You glance up, and he's panting slightly, looking down at you with lust only barely restrained.

Speaking his name gently once more, you rise to your feet and bring a hand to the strong contour of his jawline. You're not sure what gives you the courage, but you ask,

"Are you nervous?"

Xander laughs, though it sounds much more like a sigh. He takes your hand in his and kisses the palm.

"In a way, yes. You were given to me like the spoils of war," he says, brow furrowed "to claim your body would make me no better than some pillaging bandit."

So that's what this is about.

"Pardon me for saying, your Highness," you say with a hint of a smile, "But I think you're underestimating what I would have done to put a stop to this all, had I not admired you the way I do." You lean close to him and add, "So... please, Xander?"

His hands cup your face and he meets you with an intensely scrutinizing gaze.

"Do you mean that, my Queen?"

"Yes," you say breathlessly. Then, his lips are on yours, and his strong arms wrap under your backside and lift you up against him. It finally occurs to you that he truly does have a warrior's physique, despite his regal bearing, but you have little time to muse on this before he's laid you on his bed and crawled atop you on all fours. It's like you've released a long-dormant beast; Xander kisses you with a passion and desperation you would have never dreamed possible from him at your first meeting. His hands are everywhere, though you notice he makes no effort to remove the lingerie you still wear. Instead, his touch lingers at the places where the clingy garments squeeze your flesh- the swell of your thighs, the curve of your backside.

He ducks downward and his lips immediately find your nipples, hard and straining against flimsy sheer material. His saliva darkens the fabric as he sucks at the sensitive buds, pulsing his lips and tongue against you like he's starved for you. Your fingers weave into golden hair and you throw back your head on the pillow. Then, you feel his cock grinding against your silken panties, pressing into you hard enough that the tip is soon buried between your pussy lips despite the barrier of clothing. Your body responds in kind, rutting against him in search of any kind of relief. A low moan rumbles in Xander's chest, and he says against your skin,

"I beg that you forgive me..."

You almost laugh, but your head is spinning and you can barely focus enough to respond with,

"For... for what?"

"For not trusting in your decision, for one," he says, and his hands slide down your sides to your hips, "for not being forthright with my doubts, for another," his fingers hook into the fabric of your underwear and begin to tug them down your thighs, "and one more in advance, in case I am too rough with you tonight."

#xander fire emblem #xander x reader #fire emblem #fire emblem smut #fire emblem x reader #x reader #fire emblem imagines #feh #fire emblem fates #fire emblem conquest

[jawritter]

Don’t Make A Sound

Requested by anon HERE

Summary: You are forced to share a bed with Jensen due to overbooking at the Dallas Con he had to work at. What do you do when you catch your boss having a very hot wet dream?

Warnings: Smut, Bed Humping, Masterbation, Public Smut?, Language, shameless objectification of Jensen Ackles, Jensen having a wet dream (yes that’s a warning) I think that’s about it. This is pretty much porn, and I’m not sorry. 

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 1931

A/N: This is completely unbeta’d, so all mistakes are mine! Just thought I’d throw this one out there for you guys since my posting got thrown off by a hurricane, and I’m feeling generous tonight. Besides, who can say no to a bed humping Jensen Ackles? I didn’t think so. Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! I hope you all enjoy this one!!

Want more? Check out my Masterlist!

***MASTERLIST***

You don’t know how you got here… Wait a minute… That’s not entirely true. You do know how you got here. There were no other rooms available, it was the last Dallas Con of the year, and it had been put off and hyped up so long that it was overbooked. 

You’d been working as Jensen Ackles PA for the last six months. With SPN ending, and his new role on The Boys looming, he’d been overwhelmed in his workload, and he needed a little extra help getting organized, which is where you come in. 

Normally you would have just rented a room close to his. This time though, there were no other rooms available, and the only room available by the time Jensen and yourself got to Dallas was a suite with one king bed. Jensen let you stay with him, saying there was no way in hell you were going to drive across town to rent another room when there was a perfectly good room with a big enough bed to share right here. 

Now here you are.

So yes, you know very well how you got here. Laying in bed, wide awake, staring at the ceiling unable to sleep, with your extremely hot boss laying in nothing but a pair of loose-fitting boxer shorts, and a black fitted T-Shirt, less than a whole foot away from you.

Couldn’t get any more awkward? Wait!! There’s more!!!

Why not just sleep on the pull out couch in the room? Well, that’s because it was currently occupied by one Misha Collins, who had flown down with Jensen and yourself from Vancouver and found himself in the same boat as you. Roomless. 

Alcohol flowed as it does at cons. Too many shots were taken at the bar downstairs attached to the hotel, and Misha was allowed to pass out on the pullout to avoid a drunk Uber ride to God knows where he’d end up. 

You felt Jensen’s weight shift next to you, and a low grunt leaves his lips, but he didn’t wake up. The room was stuffy, and he’d kicked the covers off an hour ago, the light coming from the still it bathroom left very little to the imagination as he shifted over to his stomach with his arms tucked under his pillow. The delicious curve of his ass on display in the loose-fitting boxer shorts, and the T-Shirt that had shoved it’s way up higher on his stomach when he rolled over, leaving that dip in his back exposed that people fangirled all over the globe. 

You mentally slap yourself for drooling over your boss while he unknowingly slept next to you, and forced your eyes to focus back on the ceiling. You were finally starting to feel somewhat of tiredness pull at your subconscious, and you finally let your eyes drift close. Then you heard it. A low moan comes from the extravagantly hot man lying next to. Barely audible, but definitely a moan. 

Your eyes shoot to Jensen as if someone had thrown cold water on you, but he was still laying in the same position sound asleep. 

Maybe you were dreaming and didn’t realize you had fallen asleep. 

Before you could pull your eyes away from his gorgeous body, his hips rolled ever so slightly, and a light moan fell from his lips again, pulling his boxers tighter against his well-formed ass from all the years of fight scene on Supernatural. 

You didn’t move, fuck you barely dared to breathe as you watched him. He was seriously laying next to you having a wet dream? No way.

Your eyes shot over to Misha, who was still sound asleep, or just flat passed out, Jared had pretty much drank him under the table in a bet. He was out thankfully. 

Jensen’s hips shifted again, and your eyes shot back to the scene playing out next to you as Jensen’s hips started to shifted up and down a little as he rutted himself against the mattress in his sleep, his hips finding a deep rhythm as little grunts and moans continued to fall almost inaudible from his perfect mouth. 

You knew you shouldn’t watch, this was wrong, you should look away, but every woman with a pulse, and some men for that matter, wouldn't be able to look away from this. No way. Not a chance.

Jensen’s hips rolled harder, pushing himself deeper against the mattress in search of more friction, and your hand wandered into the waistband of your shorts without you even really realizing it, finding your little bundle of nerve you began to rub harsh little circles matching his pace.

“Hmph fuck,” Jensen murmured in his sleep as he continued to hump himself into the bed, and with a deeper roll of his hips, the red swollen tip of his erection slipped threw he little slit in his boxers, rolling against the mattress as Jensen continued to fuck himself into it. A bead of precum formed at the tip as he continued to swell under his own administrations, dripping onto the white sheet underneath him. 

You bite down on your lower lip to suppress the moan that desperately wanted to fall from your lips as you watch him, slipping your fingers inside your shorts deeper, teasing your clenching entrancing that desperately wanted to be stretched by the man next to you.

He was fucking beautiful. His throbbing erection slipping through the opening in the front of his boxers, rolling against the bed with each push of his hips. His brow furrowed with a thin layer of sweat already forming there. His lips pouted in concentration. 

With each roll of his hips against the mattress, his breath started to become a pant, and a hushed moan from a moment ago became more and more prominent. 

“Y/N!” he moaned loudly, and his eyes snapped open mid-thrust against the now rooted covers that had gathered underneath him. His eyes wide with horror as embarrassment burned hot in his face. His perching green eyes locked with yours before a prominent pout formed on his beautiful face, and you were almost sure for a moment he looked as if he was going to cry from sheer embarrassment. 

Quickly jerking himself back into his boxer he broke eye contact with you and made to get up out of the bed.

“Y/N, I’m so fucking sorry, I’ve never done anything like that before… I don’t… I’m sorry.” 

Grabbing his pillow he made to stand up but his throbbing length strained harder against the thin fabric of his boxers, so running with dignity was out of the window, hell dignity period was out of the window. Admitting defeat he grabbed the thin sheet and threw it over his hips, covering himself with the pillow that he had in his hand for good measure, then burying his face in his hands as if he wanted to die right there. 

You had two choices, you could roll over and pretend you weren’t just enjoying the show, because he’d obviously hadn’t noticed that you were, or you could shove him down on the bed, and give him the ride of his life. At this point your job was probably shot anyway, so you chose the former. He was so embarrassed that surely he’d fire you in the morning. 

“It’s okay Jensen," you whisper, crawling over to his side of the bed, and moving the pillow away from his lap, revealing the prominent tent in his boxers as you ripped the sheet away. 

He watched with his jaw hanging open as you slipped your shorts, and underwear down in one go before shoving him back down on the bed, shushing him as he laid back. 

“Don’t make a sound,” you tell him as quietly as you can, giving Misha a quick glance to make sure he was still sleeping before taking his pulsing length in your hand, pumping him a few times before sliding down onto him. 

Your mouth falls open in an inaudible moan as his back arched up to meet you as you slowly sink down onto his sizable length, and he stretches you open until you were fully seated on his lap with him inside of you, your walls already clenching around him as he bit down hard into his lips. 

He was already panting again, his eyes slammed shut in an attempt to make no sound, his mouth fallen open just slightly; letting you see his perfect row of white teeth and tongue peeking out just over the edge.

When he was finally able to open his eyes again they were at least three shades darker than what they were when he’d woken up, and his fingers found your hips in a bruising grip. Slowly at first, Jensen helped you begin to move your hips. Rolling in a slow teasing motion as you both become used to the feel of each other. His thick length hitting that place deep down inside of you very few men had ever reached, his eyes watched you bodies where they were connected.

You could already feel that familiar coil winding tight in your stomach as you moved above him, pushing you to rise and fall on him faster and faster as his hips rose and fell to meet yours as you rode him. 

“Fuck Y/N, I can’t, I’m about to fucking blow. Cum with me sweetheart,” he panted in a hushed whisper. Sitting up quickly he pulled your bodies tighter together as you continued to grind down on his cock, his pelvis hitting your clit at just the right angle, and before long you were a shaking mess on top of him as your walls clamped down around him, and he spilled his seed deep inside of you. Both of you held onto each other as he pushed you both through your high until you both fell back onto the bed a painting mess. 

You buried your head in Jensen’s shoulder as his arms wrapped around you protectively, his lips finding yours in a deep, passionate kiss. 

“That was,” Jensen said in a hushed whisper as his eyes searched yours and he struggled to find the words to say.

“About fucking time,” Misha exclaimed loudly from the pullout bed across the room. Making Jensen and yourself look at each other in a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

“Now if the two of you are fucking done, I’ve got a 5 AM flight I have to be ready for in the morning.” 

Jensen chucked as you buried yourself deeper into his hold, trying not to laugh hysterically because of your nerves. 

“Sorry Mish, go back to sleep,” he chucked as Misha got up and made his way to the bathroom, mumbling something about Jared owing him 100 bucks.

“So, where does this leave us?” you asked Jensen the question you feared the most, and he took a deep breath, staring towards the ceiling in thought.

“Well, I can either give you a raise and call you my VERY personal assistant or I can take you out to dinner tomorrow night; and call you my girlfriend instead?”

You settle yourself down into the covers as he pulled the over the two of you with a stupid smile plastered over your face. 

“You know what, dinner sounds great.”

Misha stumbles his way back to the bed, snorting in amusement. “Honestly Y/N, I would have taken the raise.”

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#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles smut #jensen smut #jensen x you #jensen x reader #spn #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #jawritter #dean winchester

[binniesthighs]

can u do an enemy to lovers au with han jisung where they are in a hidden fwb relationship? thank u~ 🥺

I really look some creative liberties with this one HA but the product...hehe, I hope that you enjoy it love! I also kinda accidentally made it a period piece??? Like 50′s-60′s? Idk how this happened but the vibe and the music I was listening to while writing really put me in that mood haha

blue velvet | reader x jisung |

Paring: self insert, gender neutral reader x han jisung

Genre: smut n’ angst

Tags: stripper!jisung, stripper!reader, bi!jisung, enemies (competitors) to lovers, secret relationship, friends with benefits, explicit language, mentions of alcohol, degrading names, choking, spanking, v mild spit play, unprotected sex (wrap it before you slippity slap it friends), creampie, cum eating, scratching, oral (reader receiving) semi-public sex, hello yes this one is kinda filthy ooooops

Word count: 3.2k

Recommended listening: Blue Velvet by Bobby Vinton

Fuck. It’s hot in here. Too fucking hot.

Reconnaissance. That’s what you were doing. It was fucking disgusting. Everyone in the room was just as fake as the pleather belts that held their guts in. You had never seen anything more embarrassing in your whole life. Desperation was sweating off the walls and sunk into your skin. It made you feel sick.

You scoffed and took a long sip from your drink.

“One more?” An attentive maître d' asked you--if he could even been called that in a place like this.

You covered your hand over your glass. You refused to pay for any more of that cheap tasting shit.

Next to you a rapt group of men in suits wagged their tails at the view. She wasn’t even very pretty.

Rolling your eyes, you scoped out the rest of the room, adorned in red velvet and gold nearly everywhere. What was this? A high school musical? Even those had more class than this place.

You checked your sliver wristwatch lined by dainty diamonds. You always did like gifts. Too bad rarely anyone would get anything in return.

The girls on the stage twirled around, giving the audience the best view that they could, tiger-prowling to those waving bills in their grabby hands. They were tanned and fashioned into strappy and lacy pieces that looked like they all must have shared them. Pathetic.

“You come here often?”

He swirled some clear looking liquid in his crystal glass, the little string of olives clinking the side.

“Are you speaking to me?”

“No, I’m talking to them.” He head nodded to the same group of greasy businessmen. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

“It’s my first time...and likely my last.”

“Huh. Tough critic.”

He didn’t look like the rest of them. Younger, reeking less of starved attention. He had golden blonde hair, and a silk white shirt unbuttoned far into a deep V. He was toned: the muscles on his arms were visible under the thin fabric and his abs made a show thanks to the abandonment of buttons. He wore dress pants perfectly fitted for his thighs. He was...attractive...but not your type.

“What’s not to like? Beautiful people, drinks to make you forget your mistakes? Not your scene?”

You rested your chin in your palm. “It’s my scene, but not this scene.”

“Suit yourself.” He took another swing, pivoting his body towards you, legs spread wide. “I think I know someone who can change you mind though.”

“In this place? Unlikely.”

“Come on...just stay a little bit longer and they’ll come out. They’re the last act of the night for a reason.” He signaled to the maître d' and whispered something into his ear. “Drinks on me. If you’ll stay?”

“Free drinks?” You put down your empty glass. “I suppose I can’t say no to that.”

╚ ——————————————— ╝

It was thirty minutes till closing, and you had stayed much longer than you had liked. After all the drinks you had to pass the time, you were starting to feel a little buzz, but nothing much really phased you these days. You started to wonder if he had been pulling some kind of prank. Nothing you had seen was what he had hyped it up to be.

The lights dimmed behind you, making the room dark enough for the tiny white candles at the tables to provide the only light. Spotlights flashed on from behind you too, illuminating the U shaped stage. With the lights, the music faded into something much more sultry.

The first two girls stepped out, both of them wearing white sets that were nearly identical with sheer robes. Two others stepped out after them, this time wearing red and black. It was the same thing you had been seeing all night.

The spotlight tightened.

It was him.

He was wearing a button down and those same pants, everything seemed so tight on him, accentuating every curve of his body. Strangely, when he walked out, he was greeted with wolf-whistles and hoots. He winked back at his spectators, nearly falling out of their chairs to see him better. It was even stranger considering the audience was filled with men.

He walked around the girls on stage as if he was inspecting them, his eyes eating up every bit of their skin. He confidence was unparalleled. He would run his hands down their sides, digging his fingers into their hips. They circled around him until his body was covered with their hands, teasing the audience, just barely touching around his dick, which with his pants...there was little room for imagination.

Silent moans left his lips once they started undressing him giving him their full attention. The cheers grew even louder. Before long, he was nearly fully undressed swaying to the music. He wore nothing special, just some briefs, like any normal person would. It was...confusing.

He took turns “giving attention” to every girl, looking at them like he worshiped the ground the walked on. They would grind their bodies together, or he would pick them up in his arms, and they would wrap their long legs around him. He would pantomime fucking them from behind, screwing up his face as if he really was. Everyone went crazy for that.

It didn’t last for very long and the lights soon went all the way down, leaving the stage scattered with sweating bodies, panting as if they had just cum, entangling themselves all in eachother.

You were a bit unenthused, but it was different. There was something about him that was different.

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“Were the drinks enough for you?” His voice called to you just as you were about to leave. This time, he returned wearing the same silk shirt.

“I hope that I didn’t make you pay for too many.” You pouted with faux empathy.

“And the show?” He grinned a little.

“Interesting. Considering a place like this.”

He laughed a little. “I help with...the imagination.”  

“So they pretend that you’re them. I’ll admit, it’s smart.”

“You’d be surprised, somedays I get more male customers compared to most of the girls here.” He bit his lip as if recalling a memory. “They pay well too, pay for whatever they aren’t getting at home. Who am I do deny them that when it’s my job?

“You sleep with them?”

“The ones I like.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“Can be. In a good way.” He let out a sharp laugh. “So. Did I prove you wrong?”

“Hmmm. I could do better.”

He popped his brows up. “You could?”

He was intriguing. You decided to give him a bite. “I dance at La Rose Rouge.”

“You dance at that overpriced, snotty ass place?” His words turned poisonous.  What’s it like dancing for a guy who’s got a stick so far up his ass--”

“--The price is right, and you get what you pay for there...especially if its me.”

“How am I not surprised?”

“I need to go, I’ve seen all I could here.” You bowed at him a little.

“Wait.” He grabbed at your arm. “I’ve still got one more thing to show you. Follow me.”

 ╚ ——————————————— ╝

Your insides were on fire as he fucked into you. Every time that he thrust into you, he was relentless and unforgiving. He was going so fast you could barely catch your breath. You were bent over some dusty old sofa in an equally dusty dressing room. You would kill him if he left bruises on your hips from how hard he was holding you.

“fuck. shit.” He panted, then reached one of his hands around to rub at your sensitive sex, slick with your excitement.

He was so fucking cocky, but he knew what the hell he was doing. He bent over your back, sucking into your skin, wrapping his arms around you to tweak your nipples. He was wrecking you from the inside out, devouring you like he had never tasted anything like you.

He kicked your legs open even farther. “Fucking moan for me, slut.”

You had barely let him hear more than a few gasps, he didn’t deserve it. You wanted him to moan for you.

“Who are you calling slut?” You said with venom.

You shoved off of him, and he looked devastated. He was cute. He even frowned regretfully like he had done something wrong.

The metal of your rings dug into his neck when you grabbed it, squeezing as hard as you could. Your hot breath snuck into his ear, “No, you fucking moan for me...slut.”

You attacked his lips, tracing the insides of his mouth with your tongue. He moaned right into you and grabbed handfuls of your ass with his two hands. Your teeth bit his lip and pulled. His dick trembled between the two of you and he rutted against your stomach to get some kind of relief.

He took one of his hands to your hair before resting his glossy brown eyes on you. “I’d do anything for you.” His voice quivered. “You ruin me.”

“Get on the floor.” You commanded him, and he did as he was told without a question, laying his bare body on the cold concrete.

The chill of the stone stung your knees, but that didn’t matter, you just wanted to see him unravel. You straddled down onto him, taking him in as you sunk down.

“oh shit,” slipped off your tongue without you having much control over it.

You rolled your core over him, back and forth, circling yourself and bouncing up and down as he rolled his eyes back, licking his lips while you did everything that you wanted. As you bounced he held on to your ass, digging his fingertips in. You had your eyes closed, so you didn’t see it when he rose is hand to slap you hard. It burned beautifully.

“—Jisung? Are you done yet? The rest of us are going out.” A female voice called, and rattled the locked door.

“FUCK OFF.” He groaned, and held onto your ass even tighter.

You let out a unamused tsk. “Jisung? That’s your real name?”

He didn’t say anything, but instead swiftly took you in his arms to lay you down. The chill of the floor startled you into wince, but it felt amazing compared to how hot you were. He entered you immediately again, then slung your legs over his shoulders. His blonde hair appeared to bounce a little with each thrust.

You knew exactly what you were doing when you dragged your nails down his arms, waterfalling pink, perfect, lines. His whole body seized at the sensation, sending him into a fury. He licked his hand from palm to fingers, not breaking your gaze as he used it to rub relentlessly at you.

You were on the edge.  

“Want my cum, you whore?”

You were close as well, and it clouded your senses--you felt yourself slipping into him after holding back for so long.

“ye-yes, I want it.”

He came in seconds, doubling over you when he did, panting like a dog, with you gasping just as hard from your own orgasm. He seemed to shake a little as he came down, nearly suffocating you with his body weight. You jiggled your hips just a little to get a rise out of him. You had guessed correctly, someone like him couldn’t take overstimulation.

“Fuck, wait, wait. I-I can’t take anymore.”

You laughed a little and stopped. “You’re no fun.”

“I thought I literally just proved to you that I’m loads of fun.”

“Mmm, I suppose.”

“You liked it?” He ran his hand through his sweaty roots.

“You made me cum, so...usually I have to fake it.”

“Really?”

You nodded.

“I’m honored.” He grinned a little pridefully.

You reached down to your hole to catch a few drops of his cum on your fingers, stretching it out a little and playing with it. He watched you as you did so, eyes wide. You stood to grab his jaw, sticking your fingers in his mouth which he eagerly sucked.

“Where have you been my whole life?” He looked up at you in wonder.

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that...Jisung.”

He watched you then as you dressed, careful not to forget your gorgeous silver wristwatch.

“I won’t be coming back, so don’t expect that this will happen again.”

“Wait--” He stopped you before you grabbed the door handle. “You didn’t tell me your name--”

“--That’s something you don’t need to know.”

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“Darling, is there anything that I can get you?”

Your manager swept a caring hand to hold you by the small of your back.

“No, thank you though, love.” You shone brightly back to him.

“Just let me know? So far we’ve got a queue for you. Four gentlemen and three ladies. I expect that the tips tonight will be generous...it’s payday.”

You politely nodded. “Of course.”

“Have you been having a hard time with any of the new faces?”

You took a sip of your brandy. “Some of them have some mouth, but I’ll make them dignified. You can trust me.”

“I always do.” He gently kissed your cheek. “Ah, I forgot to mention, one of your customers brought you a gift. It’s in your dressing room; he wants you to wear it for your dance tonight.”

“I do love gifts.”

“Go get ready darling, you haven’t got much more time.”

Once you were in your dressing room, a medium sized white box waited for you on your vanity. There was no labels; no indication that it was from a luxurious brand. You opened it, and the shirt was wrapped in light pink tissue paper. It was too short to be a robe, but it was silk and white with buttons that looked more decorative rather than useful. You figured it must have been your customer’s: many of them got off to you wearing their clothes. It wasn’t your usual style, but you knew how to make anything work.

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“And for our last act of the night: the wonderful, the illustrious...”

You walked out to the silent stage: meant only for you, the stage lights yellow, shrouding you in their brilliance. Your chest was bare, save for the silky shirt falling off your shoulders. They were cheering for you, throwing paper bills at you and calling your name, but you couldn’t hear them at all. You had never felt so whole in your life since being on the stage. It seemed like the rest of your days were just spent chasing some kind of feeling that merely resembled that.

Barefoot, you pranced along the stage, twirling like a ballerina even, letting the shirt billow up just so they could see your perky bottom. With all of their eyes on you, you felt like an absolute vision--like an ethereal being, desired, but impossibly attainable.

The jazz song played on by the live players, a muted trumpet and violins accompanied you. Your eyes swept across the blue velvet curtains of the booths, to every man and woman looking at you in awe. You let the shirt slip just a bit farther, revealing your back, winking. You never had to show them much. It was your charisma that they thirsted for--and that they could only get a small taste of.

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“Darlin’ you’re a catch, an absolute catch.” Your manager snuck up behind you taking your makeup off to hand you the ridiculously fat stack of bills. “You keep us afloat baby, you know that I can’t thank you enough.” He bowed.

“Stop flattering me.” You remarked with a smirk. “I know.”

Your manager left, then the curtain to your room screeched again. He slowly stepped into the light, applauding slightly.

“He’s right you know? Even I can’t get enough of you.”

It was him, cocky smile, swept blonde hair and all.

“You again? I’m surprised that you even made it in here at all. Considering who you are.”

“What? The competition? You didn’t tell them about me, did you?”

You patted some serums into your face. “Better leave soon before they rid you of that handsome face of yours.”

“You saying that I’m handsome?” He snarked.

“What are you doing here anyway?”

“Seeing you, I thought I made that clear? Isn’t that what you were doing when you came to my club?”

“Like what you saw?”

“I stand corrected.” He let up, advancing towards you at your vanity. “And you look just as stunning in my shirt as I thought you would.”

“Your...this is yours? How the hell did you mange that?”

“I have my ways.”

“I suppose you want it back then.”

“No...you can keep it...if you promise me one thing.”

“And what would that be?”

He reached out for your hands, which you tentatively took. He swept you up, pulling you into his chest with eyes dipped in lust.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” He spoke onto your lips with heated breath.

You would’ve been lying if you had said his lips didn’t look appetizing.

“One more time.”

“Bold of you to assume that I’d want to fuck you again.”

“You haven’t been thinking of it too? My hands on your body...”He caressed your body down, “My lips on yours?” He pulled you in by the chin to carefully part your lips with his. “My dick filling you up?” He pulled you in closer to feel his pulsating dick. “You don’t think about it?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“That you want me. All you have to do is say it and I’m yours.”

“You’re looking to get killed if they know you’ve touched me.”

“I’d happily die for you.”

“I’ll pretend you didn’t say that...Jisung.”

His lips fell to your neck where he pressed slow kisses onto it. “Just say it...”

The cool of his saliva on your skin met the air, tingling. You couldn’t believe you found yourself considering...

“I know you want to...”

“This won’t be a common occurrence.” You got out, suppressing your moans.

“Is that a yes?”

“...yes.”

“And we’ll see about that.” He slyly grinned, meeting your lips once again.

He swept you up, and your legs naturally wrapped around him. He carried you out of the dressing room to the main hall, pulling you both into the nearest booth, drawing the blue velvet curtains behind him. His eyes devoured you, casting aside his silk shirt that loosely clung to you. You threw your weight onto the table, opening your legs for him, inviting him. He chuckled a little at the action.

“I can imagine you must’ve been thinking of this as well then.” He kissed down your stomach, removing what underwear you were barely wearing. He kissed and sucked at the skin in your inner thighs, kindling your excitement. Spit gathered on his tongue, which he let drip down to your sex which glistened for him.

Your core begged for that feeling once again, that feeling only he could give you: the one that made you feel alive, like you weren’t just chasing some impossibility.

He lapped at you slowly with his tongue, awakening your whole body.

“I fucking want you.”

#FRICK I LOVE THIS CONCEPT #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #jisung x reader #jisung x y/n #han jisung smut #stray kids asks #stray kids drabbles #stray kids imagines #stray kids oneshots #kpop smut #kpop imagines #kpop drabbles #kpop oneshots #stray kids angst

[creativeashproductions]

In the Beginning // Alive!Luke Patterson

Summary: Reggie (Rhodes)’s older sister is the epitome of cool in his, and his friends, eyes with her in a band. Pushed by a hazel eyed brunette with a huge crush on the eldest Rhodes teen the boys decide to start a band. While at first the band is for Luke’s dream of landing you he finds his passion with music.

Warning: Swearing, angst, fluff, dad!Luke

Words: 4.1k

A/N: I couldn’t resist writing another alive!Luke fic with Luke crushing on his band mate’s sister. Ugh, just imagine Luke suggesting a band to impress his crush only to fall in love with music instead.  For my fics it will be Alex Mitchell and Reggie Rhodes until JATP reveals their canon names. 

Masterlist

Los Angeles, 1992

The guitar case was a familiar heaviness as you walked into the home for the first time in months after a practice. You ached from the long travel, and all you wanted was your bed. The yawn came first, then the startled yell at the living room.

Four pairs of eyes met the girl standing in the entryway, surprised at a sleepover with her brother and his full friends. Eyebrows coming together you shook your head wondering why they had come here instead of the typical Patterson home.

“Hey!” Fourteen-year-old Reggie beamed towards his older sister excited she was back from her weekend band practice. Your eyes blinked at his usual upbeat personality before switching to the brown eyes from Bobby, too shy to full meet yours.

Spread around the living room watching a movie was Reggie’s best friends; the socially awkward Alex, the shy Bobby, and the Patterson boy Luke. The young typically spent their time at Luke’s place, so seeing them in your home was strange.

“Reg, what’s up?” You asked crouching to untie your shoes confused at the sharp audible gasp coming from Luke. Standing straight up, you saw Luke awkwardly looking away with bright red cheeks.

“How was practice?” Reggie inquired with the smile he got from your mom and his dark hair from your dad.

Reggie usually wasn’t interested in your band leading you to wonder what the hell was going on with them. Being sixteen you didn’t socialize with Reggie’s friends, thanks to the two year age gap, but you were happy he had good friends. Well, less than two years between you and Luke.

“It was good. Since when are you interested in Crimson Queen?” You questioned moving more into the room with the four young teens, “You haven’t even touched your bass in years.”

One eyebrow raised you individually looked at the boys in the room all with sheets of paper around them. From a distance, you couldn’t tell what was on them, but it couldn’t be homework. They all attended the same high school while you had done correspondence with the band and a tutor.

“Luke’s parents got him a guitar,” Reggie spoke gesturing to the decent brand new acoustic guitar on the floor beside the Patterson. Luke’s hazel eyes widening as you came closer to the group.

Your hand picking up the guitar to look it over finding it was decent for a beginner, but it was definitely not tuned. The sheer sound made you wince.

“So, you guys want to be a band?” You questioned sitting on the floor beside Luke. The boy shifting nervously, you weren’t blind that he got shy around girls, “Do you guys even play instruments?”

“I got the bass, Bobby can play rhythm guitar, Alex plays dru-“

“I wouldn’t call it proper drumming. It’s just something my therapist suggested with my anxiety and frustrations.” Alex raised his hand leading to everyone in the room looking at the tall male, recently had a growth spurt, with the backward black hat.

“And Luke will learn guitar as well.” You added, looking at the quiet, “How well can you play?”

“I don’t even know how to properly tune it,” Luke admitted playing with his fingers adorned with a ring.

Luke had chosen a cutoff shirt in an attempt to gain your attention to his arms he hoped had gotten more muscled. He had a massive crush on you but with the guys your own age he had step up; he started working out. He actually enjoyed it, but he’d enjoy it more if you were checking him out.

“You’ll need a place to practice.” You mumbled glancing out the window at the ocean waves thinking. The house was on the prime real estate edge of the beach all thanks to your well off parents; Dad, a doctor and Mom, an interior designer.

Your fingers tapped on the ripped blue jeans you had chosen that day with the flannel shirt opened over the black AC/DC t-shirt. You started standing up, grabbing Luke’s hand to pull him up as well; the boy’s cheeks grew pinker, and his heart fluttered.

“What?” Luke spluttered, staring at his hand, caught in yours in sheer awe.

“You’ll need a place to practice.” You answered, dropping is head to reach in your pocket for your key chain.

The key chain had a few keys on it: one for home, one for your car, one for the band van for gigs, one for the garage, and lastly one for the house the garage belonged to. The boys piled into the car, apprehensive for where you were taking them. The only sound was the radio playing local greatest hits, your foot slammed on the brake at the house of your bassist.

“Well Marty, this song has blown up on the charts. New band Crimson-“

“Holy shit.” You breathed staring at the radio. Your door opened as you sprinted down to the steps that led to the garage. The footsteps of the boys following.

The garage was open already with your band members lounging around the space filled with instruments and amps. Their heads swivelling as you frantic turned the radio on.

“Come on.” You mumbled, turning the radio station to the right one, “Guys listen!”

“-Crimson Queen is an LA-based band making waves in the LA Nightlife and hit the top ten with their newest song Sorry Now.” The radio host spoke, “If you haven’t heard the song before, this is the band’s new single.”

The song was blasted from the radio leading to the four girls screaming the song out dancing around the room. Euphoria was the only way you could call the feeling rising in the bodies of the girls in the place. The room burst into more screams as your drummer. Faith switched the radio station.

“Today history was made, Crimson Queen is an all-female rock band fronted by Y/N Rhodes. They started as a hobby at fifteen, but a year later at sixteen they’ve made waves.” A hit radio station, the second one so far, was talking about your band. Holy shit.

“Lucy, this band is going places. My daughter is seven years old, and she’s telling me this band is the talk of her school. I can’t tell how much Lucy listens to their demo.”

Your eyes saw Reggie having a meltdown of excitement for older sister and her band, and you were so unbelievably happy you should care the moment. You rushed over to Reggie to pull him into a hug.

“Girls…and boys.” Mrs Taylor spoke furrowing her brows at the young boys in the garage her daughter had begged to use for the band. Shaking her head, the middle-aged woman turned her attention to her daughter.

“Hey, Ma.” Dawn, your bassist, spoke spreading her pink painted lips to her perfectly straight teeth too hyped up on energy, “What’s up?”

“First congratulations on the single. Secondly, we’re gonna need to get a personal line for the band because our phone is blowing up.”

A sharp gasp from Dawn before the three of the four girls rushed to the house of the Taylor’s. You hung back to look at your brother and his band.

“So? What do you think?” You inquired with the group, “This idea of yours has to be one hundred percent what you want. It won’t be easy in LA, it will come with hardships, and Reggie Mom and Dad won’t let you drop out.”

The four boys nodded their heads because the excitement they saw in your big break was something they wanted. To be able to connect with people cemented their decision.

“Feel free to hang around.” You suggested glancing around the garage that started it all, “I’ll be back in a bit.”

The Orpheum, Los Angeles, 1995

The crowd screamed as Crimson Queen, the song that started this road played with the girl crouching to grasp the hand of fans. At the beat of the chorus, you stood up eating up the energy of the last show of the tour. You went jumped on the drum riser rocking on the guitar as Faith did her magic.

Dawn on her bass made her way to rock with your rhythm guitarist Sara sharing grins with you still feeling the euphoria of this success. As the song came to an end, your entire band went to the front of the stage.

“We’d like to thank our fans for the last nine months of our world tour. We started this band in LA in 1991, so we thought it fit to end our tour at The Orpheum.” You spoke to the crowd, feeding off the energy as the concert came to an end.

The road crew would load your instruments up in the van to take home after months of travelling. You were so excited to see Reggie, who would be seventeen now, having celebrated his birthday while you had been in Europe. Too excited were shocked as Reggie backstage.

“Reggie!” You exclaimed tugging the teen into your arms, leaning back to take him in, “Damn you grew!”

Reggie grinned not giving a shit you were coated in sweat from performing your setlist, but your eyes went over his shoulder. Standing close and just as excited was Reggie’s friends. Alex was taller, Bobby looked more confident, and Luke could meet your eyes. Luke also had changed, no longer baby faced.

“Sunset Curve.” You spoke, stepping back to look them over, “I haven’t seen you guys in months, how did you change so much!”

“That’s what happens when you go on tour for almost a year.” Luke teased tugging you into his arms for a tight hug.

It was odd seeing Luke taller and more muscled than when you left for tour, and the confidence was honestly hot. You had seen Luke as anything other than your brother’s friend, who tended to stare a little too long.

“You played the fucking Orpheum!” Alex screamed, holding your shoulders with a wrinkled nose at the damp red thin flannel shirt. The girls wandered up behind you each with a grin at the guys.

“Well if it isn’t Sunset Swerve,” Sara spoke swinging her arm over your shoulder with a teasing smirk plastered on her face. Her blonde hair swept up in a bun high on her head from a recent shower.

“Sunset Curve!” The male quartet snapped at the name before they fell back into a happy demeanour. Luke and you both staring at each other with a pink-hued face.

Faith was quieter in the group leaning closer to your band to whisper in your ear, “Jay scored us some drinks. But MJ got us into a party.” Faith’s textured hair tickling your neck.

Grins split the three girls at the suggestion each excited for the party with fellow musicians and plus ones. Sure, the parties had drugs and alcohol, but they were fun and part of the scene. Half of you wanted to go, but the other wanted to spend time with your brother.

“I’ll think I’ll pass.” You spoke up to the girls motioning to the guys, “I’ll head back with them. Meet you at the house later?”

Your black vans moving backwards as you moved to be closer to be flush against Reggie’s side grinning as he bumped his hip against you. Sara, Faith and Dawn each raising an eyebrow at your response since you often dragged them to parties.

“Orrr…we could each take one of them.” Faith cajoled mocha skin gleaming in the light with her hands, tugging her hair into a thick braid.

“You want me to take my seventeen-year-old brother and his friends-“

“-I’m like two weeks from being eighteen-” Luke cut into the conversation buzzing at the possible date, but not date, with the girl he had been crushing on for years. He was pretty sure he was in love with you at this point; he did date a little, but nothing stuck.

“-To a party in Hollywood.” You finished pinning your gaze on the three girls ahead each with mischievous grins. Your cheeks puffed as you breathed out, thinking of the positives and negatives.

Bobby was bouncing on his heels with Reggie leaving Alex shifting uncomfortably in his place. His partially relaxed when Luke squeezed his forearm through the distressed black jean jacket that bought his outfit together. Luke himself was apprehensive on your decision because either way, he got to spend time with you.

“Come on.” Dawn implored, pulling out the big guns with her ocean blue eyes widening into the puppy gaze that did you in each time. Her curtain of short dyed pink hair framing her heart-shaped face.

“I’m going to pass this time. Do some shots for me! Not tequila though, that was a huge mistake.” Faith’s grin widened at having you carry you out of the house in the early morning after a wicked party.

“Did you ever find your tho-“

“Faith!” You hissed turning a bright red at her revelation that you definitely didn’t want Reggie to know. The atmosphere turned awkward as everyone realized what the sentence would end with.

Okay so maybe you had hooked up with a few people over the last three years but nothing permanent. It was fun, drunk fun, but still fun and nothing had gone wrong. Your eyes avoided looking at Luke for a reason you couldn’t decipher.

“I’ll see you later.” You spoke motioning for the guys to follow you to the dressing room you had settled in early in the day. The corner of your lips quirked at the awe on each of the boys’ faces.

“I’m in the dressing where bands become legends.” Reggie gasped circling the room with wide-eyed interest. Alex was interested in the band posters on the walls from previous performers.

Luke, however, was more interested in your curves covered by your sweaty stage clothing that stuck to your form. His Adam’s apple gulped as you grabbed your shower bag moving towards the connected bathroom.

“I’ll grab a shower, and we can head out.” You supplied, “I’ll just need to stop at Rudy’s office for our portion of the concert.”

The guys mumbled a response finding a place to wait without hushed conversations of when they would get to play. Luke’s eyes found yours at the low call of his name from the bathroom; a crack opened he walked over.

“Do you have a sweater?” You mumbled at the taller teen with widening eyes as he realized that you were naked behind the door.

Luke stumbled over his feet, retrieving the black pullover Crimson Queen merch he had had for months now. He had saved up money to buy the merch to support the band. The door closed as you tugged the sweater in the bathroom momentarily before walking out.

“Thanks Lu. I forget to pack a shirt.” Luke awed as your nose scrunched up adorably to the amusement of his friends, “So, do you wanna hit the beach? Or maybe give me a concert in the garage?”

Luke intertwined his fingers in yours as he tugged you out of the room with your bag in hand. His heart fluttered as you held on to his hand even in the little office of the Orpheum’s management for the thick envelope of money.

“Thanks, Rudy!” You called over your shoulder at the short, stout man going over the financials and upcoming performances.

The smell of Sunset Boulevard brought a smile remembering the first time you performed and the small group that had waited outside. The first night of autographs and recognition.

“So, Reg how’s my car?” You questioned the teen who impishly grinned tugging the key chain from his black jeans. You had given him the keys when you revealed Crimson Queen had a world tour.

“Right there.” Reggie pointed leading the group of five to the car that would take them to the garage. Reggie drove with Alex in the passenger while you were crammed between Bobby and Luke; Luke was delighted in your warmth against his side.

While your band members partied, you got a first-row seating to Sunset Curve’s talent in the garage where you had started out. It was amazing to see how much they had accomplished in the three years since they started.

The sudden knock on the door had you flailing off the couch onto the floor with a sheet of paper stuck to your cheek. Your spine cracked as you sat up glancing at your watch, finding it was after midnight, only an hour of sleep after inspiration for a new song.

The door was knocked on once more and coming close the sound of crying could be heard, and you wondered if it was Luke. He had been over a few days in the night following a fight with his parents and needed to crash; helped you were giving dating a chance after his well-rehearsed speech.

Imagine your shock when it was Reggie sobbing, “Reggie.”

“C-can I stay here?” Reggie whimpered cuddling himself into the leather jacket he received at Christmas from you. You had inside in your arms in moments, “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Are they fighting again?” You murmured to your younger brother content to hold him as he cried. Bringing him to the living room, you held him as he cried humming under your breath the first song you ever let him see.

“Yeah. The music doesn’t work anymore.” Reggie murmured leaning back to wipe his tears off, “Sorry for crashing. I can go stay with-“

“Here. Reginald, you can always stay here.” You soothed the seventeen-year-old boy with sad eyes and a sombre look. His sad eyes shattered your heart, knowing he had suffered the fighting for months alone, “This house is empty Reg. You can move in here.”

His lip quirked up, “Can we play country music?”

“And eat breakfast at night.” You teased him grinning as his lips pulled up into his trademark grin, “The guys can come over whenever they want. I’d actually prefer they know they can stay here, they deserve a safe place to stay.”

You knew that Alex endured living with his parents, who had gone out of their way to avoid him after he came out. Luke couch surfed at your old house, never at Alex’s home; after coming out, Alex didn’t feel comfortable bringing anyone over.

“Good, because they’re outside.” Reggie sheepishly admitted raising his thumbs-up, “Go thinking ahead!”

Snorting the human version of a golden retriever you opened the front door to the house finding two guys in strange positions. Alex was inspecting the light fixture, and Luke was leaning against the wall with his elbow, foot across the other.

“You guys need lessons in the art of pretending you weren’t eavesdropping.” The sigh fell stepping aside for the two to enter the home—each carrying a backpack and small duffle bag for wherever they would have crashed.

The male trio got comfortable in the living room curiously glancing at the mess of papers, sticky notes and pencils. While with good intentions, they didn’t follow boundaries well, even for Alex.

“Whatcha working on?” Luke inquired, leaning closer to a sheet of paper. His pout coming over his face when you quickly tidied up the papers.

“Nothing. I fell asleep on the couch. The label wants new songs.” You groaned rubbing your eyes, “I got inspired last night. Oh! Hey, I took a message for you guys.”

Jogging to your office studio for the band you quickly grabbed the envelope along with the note that you had been given.

“So, Rudy called me, and I had a meeting with him.” You started sitting on the coffee table in front of the trio. The trio leaned forward.

“Rudy?” Luke questioned, pursing his lips together at the male name. While you and Luke were dating it wasn’t official, he was just really nervous with his dream girl liking him back.

“He’s the management for a venue. He asked if our band was available for a concert, but we collectively decided to focus on songs and recording, which you can’t tell anyone about, but he’s in dire need. So, I might have given him something. Specifically a demo of yours and knowing your home situations I gave my information.”

“Okay…so?” Alex questioned, leaning forward. His eyes growing wide as you pushed the envelope in his hand.

Alex quickly opened the cream envelope finding inside a paper along with a mock-up promo poster with Sunset Curve. The squeal was shocking from the teenager as he read the letter and note out loud.

Y/N,

I gave the demo a listen, and we usually wouldn’t do this, but Crimson Queen has been gracious with us. Always mentioning where the band got its start and closing the tour here. To repay the favour, we would formally like to invite Sunset Curve to perform. In the envelope is a mock-up poster as an option for the promo. Get the Sunset Curve’s people to get in touch. I can get the word out to some friends from some labels to come for a listen. Get in touch as soon as possible.

Manager of The Orpheum in Los Angeles,

Rudy West.

 “The Orpheum?” Luke screamed, yanking the paper from Alex to re-read it in complete shock, “We don’t have people!”

“But Crimson does.” You smirked, “On a temporary basis Crimson Queen formally offer our manager’s help.”

In his excitement, Luke lunged to pull you into a kiss freezing the room in shock.

“He got the girl.” Alex breathed elbowing Reggie in the side who’s mouth was open at his best friend kissing Reggie’s older sister. The older sister who was the driving force behind Luke wanting to form a band to impress her, “We need to tell Bobby!”

1995 was the best year for Luke Patterson. He got the girl, his band made it, his parents finally saw his dream was worth it.

The sound of music hypnotized the woman as she wandered down the hall to the open door of the large home. Nothing too over the top like Bobby’s mansion, but it was a nice size in a gated area. Your neighbours being Reggie on one side and Alex on the other side with his partner Willie; Willie had skated into Alex and into a love story pretty much.

Resting against the door edge of the designated home studio you saw Luke had moved a rocking recliner in. Softly playing in the room was a soft acoustic song recorded months previous as a surprise for you.

“When are the lessons starting?” You questioned bringing Luke’s attention to your soft smile and the love in your eyes. Luke’s grin widened glancing down at the miniature version of his love-filled eyes.

“Given her legendary parents, I think at two.” Luke chuckled shuffling the baby to the crook of his arm shifting, so you could curl into his side as well. Both eyes gazing at the little baby you had welcomed what felt like yesterday.

Stevie could fall asleep only to the lullaby her father had created during the pregnancy, and he had written. Stevie had Luke’s eyes, and so far her blonde hair had yet to darken so the question of if she’d take after your hair or his hair was unanswered.

“Hey sweetheart.” You whispered to your daughter falling asleep to the sound of her father’s voice in the room. An adorable yawn pulled from her little body as she nestled into Luke’s arms.

“She’s so gorgeous.” Luke breathed tears welling up as he could understand the reasoning behind his parents’ opinions in his teens. He truly felt terrible at hurting his mom now that he felt the love for his child.

“We did good Patterson.” You murmured back to the man who had held your heart since you were nineteen and back from tour. Your finger tracing Steve’s soft cheek, “I think she has your mom’s mouth.”

Luke’s lips lingered on your cheek heart full of love for his family with you and his little girl. He had known since his eleventh birthday he would marry you even if you were a year older. A year that made the difference when he was months older than his friends, so the year felt like two for you. At eighteen when was tentatively dating you, he knew he would marry you. He never anticipated the sheer amount of adoration for the little girl he would have at twenty-one.

God, he loved his life. He made up with his parents, his best friends, had the girl of his dreams, the most beautiful daughter and it all thanks to music. Can you see why he lives and breathes music?

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