#*beats up his hair and makeup designer person*

[darknight3904]

All Yours, Coryo

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪:ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʜᴏᴏᴅꜱ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ʙʀɪɴɢꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ɴᴇᴡ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ꜰɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅᴛʜɪʀꜱᴛʏ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴛᴜʀɴ.

ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ.

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ʀᴇꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇx. ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ɴᴀɪᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʜᴏ ʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ɪꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ʙʟɪɴᴅᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ'ꜱ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀɴɪᴘᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ꜱᴏ ꜱʜᴇ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴀʟʟ ʜɪꜱ ʀᴇᴅ ꜰʟᴀɢꜱ. ꜱᴏ ᴀᴍ ɪ.

ɪ ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛʟʏ ʜɪᴛ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʏᴇꜱᴛᴇʀᴅᴀʏ ɪɴꜱᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴀᴠᴇ ꜱᴏ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀᴡ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴇᴀʀʟɪᴇʀ, ɴᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ.

ᴄʜᴇᴄ�� ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ.

Coriolanus has never been the easiest person to understand. His mind was always racing and it kept you on your toes. Even now as he fretted over his appearance in the mirror you could tell his mind was thinking of a million things beyond whether or not his tie fit him correctly.

"For what it's worth, I think you look perfect." You say, sipping at your drink, you had been ready for nearly twenty minutes while Coriolanus was still figuring out what tie matched his pants best.

"I'm sure you do but this isn't just any party, I'm campaigning tonight and everything must be perfect." He says adjusting his hair even though it already sat perfectly styled atop his head.

It was Coriolanus' 23rd birthday and instead of celebrating like you usually did, you were both spending it at a party full of people who might help him reach the presidency by the beginning of next year. You approach him and wrap your arms around him, resting your chin on his shoulder.

"It will be." You assure, pressing a kiss to his exposed neck where his makeup artist did a wonderful job at covering the marks you had left behind last night.

"If all goes well tonight, you might just become the first lady of Panem one day." He smiles at you through the mirror

"Does that mean we're getting married?" You laugh, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at the idea of being with him forever

"Maybe..." Coriolanus says suddenly avoiding your eyes as his face reddens under your gaze.

You giggle at your boyfriend's flustered face, despite how grown up he had become in the past few years he was still the same boy you met at the academy all those years ago who just wanted his own bowl of fruit to gobble down.

"You definitely wanna marry me, Coryo!" You say almost as if you had discovered a secret of his.

"Well if you're not interested I can always find another." He jests, finally tying his tie.

"Oh please, I'm the only one who could ever tolerate you." You smile as he spins around to face you and rests his hands on your hips

"That you are, darling, that you are." He smiles and presses a chaste kiss to your lips

Coriolanus is sure you are his favorite person in the entire world. From the way you'd laugh at his jokes to the way your nose whistled when you slept, he loved it all. Even now as the two of you had long abandoned your teenage years and stepped into adulthood, he knew he didn't want to lose you. His interactions with Lucy Gray and his time in District 12 had only solidified how he wanted you to stay close to him. He watches as you cross the room to slip into a pair of pretty high heels, he loved the way your dress sat on your body, it was perfectly fitted and he wondered what designer had been able to craft it so perfectly.

He looked back at the mirror and pretended to fiddle with his outfit again even though he knew he looked perfect. Instead, his eyes cast to the small table next to the mirror where a collection of photos sat you and him over the past five years. His favorite though was the one that was taken at your 17th birthday party. He remembered how warm it had been, and at one point someone had filled a bucket of water and tossed at you. He had expected you to cry out and push everyone out of your home but instead, he was met with your laughter and thus a water fight had begun. The picture of the two of you had been taken not even twenty minutes later, both of you were drenched but happy and you had linked your arms together right before the picture was taken. Sometimes he wished to go back to those moments, to relieve the last bits of his boyhood even though it meant going back to that decrepit building he once lived in and the taste of cabbage a constant on his tongue.

"Thinking about the past?" You ask from across the room.

"Thinking about how ugly we look here." He says picking up the photo

"Nonsense, we're adorable in that. If I remember correctly that was taken a few weeks before you tripped me in my room trying to slow dance and then you gave me the kiss of a lifetime." You smile

"I didn't trip you, you tripped me with your bad dancing." He laughed, returning the photo to its proper place among the others.

"Whatever you say, Coryo." You smiled, he could tell you didn't believe one word that came from his mouth about the tripping incident.

These parties were always a bit tedious for you. You enjoyed seeing Coriolanus happy among Capitol elites and you loved the lavish dresses you got to wear but sometimes it became overwhelming. The sheer amount of reporters that were always at these things is what drove you crazy. Coriolanus ate the attention up and answered all their questions about how he'd change Panem for the better but you were usually left answering questions about what your dress was made of or what your relationship was with Coriolanus. He often assured you that once he won the presidency he'd have more control over what was asked and that you'd never have to answer another dress question again. You hoped he won as soon as possible, it was tiring pretending this line of questioning was interesting.

"Is that real gold on your sleeves?"

"Is that ring on your finger an engagement ring?"

"Who did your hair for the evening?"

"Are you going to have the future president's children?"

"Did you seduce Coriolanus Snow for power in the Capitol?"

"How many toes do you have?"

God you wished they'd all shut up, or at least get better questions. Even just something as small as your involvement with your father's company would've been better than this. You ignored whatever trash was coming from their mouths and held on to Coriolanus' arm like he was going to disappear and end up back in District 12 again.

You remembered that day very well, after Coriolanus' tribute had won he had just disappeared despite promising to walk you home after the games had ended. When he didn't show up for graduation either, you found yourself outside Tigris and Grandma'am's new residence looking for answers. Tigris had told you what happened with him and that girl, Lucy Gray, how he cheated with rat poison and a handkerchief of his father's. At first, you had been distraught that he was sent off to District 12, stuck there for twenty years as some peacekeeping grunt, you'd be an ugly middle-aged woman by the time he got back! You had been in the pits of despair about your relationship with him but all it took was one terrifying meeting with Dr. Gaul to change your attitude. Once she revealed that Coriolanus would be back in the Capitol soon, and she was simply testing his dedication to the games, you relaxed. While Dr. Gaul might not have all her marbles you knew she wasn't lying, and sure enough, your Coriolanus returned to you in a matter of weeks.

However, he returned to you differently though. Sure, his head was shaved like all Peacekeepers and the curls you loved to play with were gone, but his attitude had also changed. Perhaps it was that Songbird he never wanted to speak of even now. You could never quite place what happened between Coriolanus and her, all that mattered to you was that he had assured you it wasn't romantic. Just shared ambitions to both win something. In her case her life and in his the Plinth Prize, not that that went well for her since she had disappeared shortly after she went home. You weren't quite sure what to make of Lucy Gray, the mysterious Songbird who had enchanted all of Panem just five years ago. You had only spoken to her once and it was just to compliment her singing during her interview. She hadn't exactly impressed you with her in that moment but she must have impressed Coriolanus at some point if he was willing to break rules for her.

Or perhaps his change was due to whatever training Peacekeepers went through and the death of Sejanus that had rocked the entire Capitol when he was revealed as a traitor, you knew Coriolanus had been close to him. Of course, despite all his changes and attitude adjustments, he never applied them to you. So, here you stayed by his side, happy that he still loved you the same. Soft touches and sweet words remained constant as the two of you aged and explored the advantages of adulthood. One of your favorite things about being 23 was moving out of your family's home and into the penthouse Coriolanus had chosen for the two of you. Waking up next to Coriolanus each day and seeing how he looked before his eyes fluttered open had to be your favorite part of the days you spent together. Brushing his hair from his eyes and counting the freckles that just barely brushed his pale skin was something you did daily until his pretty blue eyes met yours again. Once he did wake though, it was hard to get him to stay in bed with you. His peaceful state was always replaced with a man who was always working towards something, ambition was always fueling him.

You didn't mind his rough exterior that emerged each morning though, Coriolanus was cold and hard on everyone but you. Perhaps it was your shared childhood memories and teenage romance that prevented him from treating you coldly like he did poor Tigris but you weren't sure. One thing you did know was that the boy you grew up with was gone and a man stood in his place, brooding and cold to everyone but you.

"I'm going to get us a drink and then if you want we can dance." He whispered in your ear

"Can you get me that fizzy lemon drink they usually serve?" You ask

"Of course, I'll bring you some of those hors d'oeuvres you like with the cheese as well."

And then, he was gone from your side moving expertly through the crowd. That dazzling blonde hair accompanied by the broadest shoulders you've ever seen on a man disappeared among the throngs of people craning their necks to get a better look at the future president and his pretty face.

"A true marvel isn't he?" a voice to your right said

You turned to be met by none other than Lucky Flickerman, a drink in one hand and a young child's hand grasped in the other.

"I'm not interested in doing an interview, Lucky. If you want information on Coryo you can ask him yourself." You say, ready to walk away from the Capitol's favorite news anchor turned Hunger Games host.

"Coryo...what an interesting nickname, a bit childish for a man who might watch over us all soon. No matter, I would however absolutely love to report on you one day and maybe even that big business you're the heiress of, but I'm actually talking to you for this little one tonight." Lucky smiles motioning to the boy who you guessed was his son. "He was admiring that stunning dress of yours and I thought he might want to see it up close and personal."

For once you didn't mind being asked about your clothes as you crouched down to the little boy's height, he couldn't be more than 5 or 6.

"You have a good eye, would you like to feel the fabric? The designer I met with made it wonderfully soft." You smile, thinking of how Tigris had gushed over the blood-red fabric that would perfectly match Coriolanus' suit with you just weeks ago.

The boy reaches his hand out and brushes it along expensive fabric and a smile grows on his face.

"What's your name?" You ask

"Caesar." He says "I just turned 6 last week."

"Well, Caesar, six is a marvelous age to be, you can do all sorts of things at six. In fact, when I turned six I learned to ride a bicycle for the first time, I did however scrape my knees half a million times. I even still have a few scars on my knees would you like to see them?." You smile at him and he nods.

"Lucky Flickerman, I thought I told your producers that you weren't allowed to bother her with your idiotic questions the way the other reporters do. You clearly don't value your job, if you did you would have listened to my words." Coriolanus' voice suddenly fills your ears as you quickly right yourself, remembering how he once told you you'd have to start holding yourself with more decorum at these events. 'No more acting like a stupid teenager' had been his exact words one night when you were eating dinner together in your shared room.

"It's fine, his son wanted to say hello." You smile down at Caesar, take your lemon drink, and pop some of the food Coriolanus brought with him into your mouth. You sincerely hoped that you weren't about to witness Lucky being fired by the newest mastermind behind The Hunger Games and future the president.

From the corner of your eye, you see Coriolanus cast an intimidating look down at the boy and you resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs and force him to apologize to the poor child who was now cowering behind his father's stylish pant leg.

"I'll see you later, Lucky. We are going to go dancing now." Coriolanus says setting your barely sipped drink and food on a tray of a passing server before whisking you away.

"You're bad with children, Coryo." You say as he leads you towards the dance floor.

"And you're bad at reading people, darling." He says, ignoring the way you pouted at your loss of lemon drink and cheese-sprinkled food.

"What do you mean?" You ask, confused

"Lucky just wanted to get you to answer questions about me," Coriolanus says as he leads you in a dance, the both of you had gotten exceptionally better since your failure at 17 in your childhood bedroom.

"Oh." You say, a bit sad that he wasn't genuinely interested in you, just another dumb reporter who wanted news on Coriolanus' next move. It was amazing how Coriolanus always knew what others were thinking and how to approach a situation best.

"It's alright, just ignore him next time," Coriolanus says, gently squeezing your waist as a form of reassurance.

You nod and rest your head on his shoulder as you spin around the dance floor, suddenly wishing you were tangled up in bed with him rather than dancing in heels that were pinching your toes.

"Can I confess something to you?" Coriolanus whispers, his lips tickling your ear.

"Of course, always " You reply honestly

"I hate seeing you interacting with them." He says in a low voice.

"Them?" You ask

"These people. Seeing them ask you questions about your dress or hair, makes me want to toss them into the arena and watch one of Gaul's mutts rip them apart. I hate the way they look at you like you're a piece of meat attached to my side." He says, possessiveness lacing his tone.

"Oh...well I'm sure they don't all think that way." You try to reason, hoping that he wasn't right about this read on others.

"I doubt it. Look at that one by the fountain in the blue jacket." He says nodding to his right.

You glance over to the fountain and see an old man with a fluffy white beard and white hair to match. He seemed to be carefully watching you and Coriolanus spinning on the dancefloor but you weren't quite sure.

"I'm positive he's standing there imagining what it'd look like if this pretty dress was on the floor and you were on top of him," Coriolanus whispers, knowing it'll have you blushing in his arms.

"Coryo..." You say, trying to keep your composure as he presses his body to yours while you wonder if he's truly right and the old man across the pretty courtyard is truly ogling you.

"Too bad I'm the only one who will ever know what that looks like." He says a certain arrogance in his voice you can't quite place.

"Stop it." You scold, trying to hide the fact that your face is as red as your dress.

"Why? I can't wait to get back to our bedroom tonight and bring what's in my head to life." Coriolanus laughs, his voice was husky in your ears and making you weak in the knees.

"You're so embarrassing, Coryo." You say into his chest, avoiding that sharp gaze he had. How could someone act so well-composed but also have the dirty mind of a perverted teenage boy?

Coriolanus stops leading your dance and hooks a finger under your chin so you're looking up at him again. Sharp blue eyes that felt like they were staring into your soul looked at you, full of passion and want.

"My heart burns for you, darling, as it always has. You're mine, my perfect girl, all mine." He promises before swooping in to deliver what might qualify as the most monumental kiss in all of history.

A certain warmness spreads across your body as he kisses you in public for the first time. It's moments like this with your Coriolanus make your heart swell, these moments remind you that the little boy with the golden curls you met when you were just twelve lives on, just in a different way. You know the teenager you once ate cabbage soup and bread with sweet jam watches over you as you kiss his 23-year-old self, you know he's smiling at where the two of you are now. You're sure that the same boy who once spun you around your childhood bedroom to your favorite slow song is still here with you now, even if he rarely shows his face. Coriolanus Snow is always watching over you, every version of him envelopes you tonight as he shows the world who you are to him.

Your head spins and your lungs burn as you hear a few whoops and cheers from onlookers while others whisper about how Coriolanus' hands are wandering all over your body. You're sure the way he's kissing you is going to end up on some Capitol news reel tomorrow morning but you can't find the heart to care. Somewhere in his chest, you feel Coriolanus let out a deep groan when you run your hands through his hair ruining the way it was perfectly styled for the evening. You gasp when his teeth nip at your bottom lip and pull away, a gasp for air leaving your now surely swollen lips.

"All yours, Coryo." You assure him and lean in for another kiss.

You smile as he kisses back and couldn't care less about what the world around you thinks, you had your Coryo, the boy who you grew up with and ate cabbage together in his decrepit home, the same boy who danced with you despite his own lack of skill. You were with your Coriolanus, the man who was going to carry Panem into a new age of glory.

Part Three

Series Masterlist

Read the Teaser here

So I uh sorta ended up abandoning fluffy Coryo thoughts from part one and went with the reader's pov of him at 23, I hope that's okay with all of you. He still loves you though don't worry, it's just in his own Coryo way. His own magically manipulative Coryo way. I was initially going to make this part during the 10th Hunger Games but then I thought, wouldn't it be interesting to see how he interacts with reader post Lucy Gray considering how much she changes his ideals. To make things clear, every moment with Lucy Gray and Coryo has occurred and the reader is unaware of pretty much all of it here, obviously since she's so goo goo gah gah over him.

If you'd like more of my writings about Coryo and you, my fic Blank Space might be the read for you, it also has a part two that is available now You can read them both here. (Yes it's based on the Taylor Swift song)

Taglist:

@bl0ndelilac

@lucygreene

@lwqfhp

@belle643

@fantasylovestoryme

@alana4610

@threeinchminimum

@dangelnleif

@hannaeditzs

@1950schick

@ennycutie

@janelongxox

@ajs-222

@or-was-it-just-a-dream

@notlilyyyy

@nicksolemnlyswears

@diannana

@ashrsworld

@lokidala

@clintsupremacy

@brilliantreid

@badassbitch-21

@steppingonshatteredglass

@405rry @folklorde24

@eir964

@charlesswife

@fangirling-galore

[ryiju-muunie]

i just had this idea 5 sec ago and i know you are the best one to do it !!

boxer sukuna X reporter reader

hint ;) she interviewed him after he won the match ,first time he meet her

Got No Ass But She a D Cup!

18+ viewer discretion advised

Fem!reporter!reader/boxer!Ryomen Sukuna Warnings: dubious consent, cock warming, reverse cowgirl but seated, hookup, pet names [mama, babe] Word count: 1598 DESC: You meet Ryomen and instantly cave

I'm back (I'm lying)

You knew Ryomen Sukuna, but you didn’t expect him to be so forward. He was a famous boxer who was known for beating the ever-loving shit out of every one of his opponents. No mercy, that was his tagline. Every person he went up against instantly went down and ended up in a pool of their blood. It was hot, you had to admit it. He was a girl's dream. Perfect arms sculpted by gods. Veins popping out at every flex, covered in ink. Intricate designs wove back and forth between almost every crevice of Sukuna’s body, trailing up to his neck, stopping just short of his jaw. His chest was known for being rock solid and made of pure muscle mass. Six-pack, or .. maybe it was an eight-pack? Either way, it was obvious he was ripped from the tight shirts he’d sport before a match. The man’s face was even chiseled. With a jawline perfectly accentuating his square and sharp features.

He just finished a match utterly destroying some up-and-coming boxer, tanking his career before the crowd's eyes. It was amazing as you watched it, a few punches, and the boy went down. You were going to interview him, the infamous boxer … and infamous playboy. Ryomen was known for saying the right thing to make girls swoon and he was known for being forward. You didn’t realize he’d be as forward as he was, though. You adjusted your tight outfit and paced a few times in a spare room, waiting for him. There was a table set up, two chairs, your tape recorder set on the table, and your flash cards. Everything would be typed up, so you didn’t need a camera or crew.

Your thoughts soon got interrupted when the door opened. You turned your head and watched as the man entered, pink hair flushed against his forehead. He looked in your direction and raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t expected someone of your stature to be there before him. Usually, when Ryomen would get interviewed it would be some older man. Not a beautiful broad standing before him, with her tits on display. You knew what you were doing, hoping to get his number by the end of the interview. You knew it when you did your hair and makeup, and then picked out a revealing but professional outfit.

“Hey,” he gruffed, closing the door behind him and locking it with a click. Although, you didn’t hear the click. He took up so much space it was insane, just from his height alone. You watched him as he sat down at one of the chairs and spread his legs, sinking into the seat. Ryomen’s shirt was tight, so tight that you could see every muscle and every curve out of his perfect body.

“Hi,” you smiled and pushed a strand of hair away from your face. You introduced yourself and the station you were from, before continuing, “Is it okay if we record this session? I need it if I’m going to be writing an article.” You motioned to the recorder on the table as you went to sit down across from him.

“That’s fine,” Sukuna nodded, and you clicked it on, “I got a question for you though. Are we going to continue this interview facing each other… or shall we do it more intimately?” His large hand then patted one of his thighs. You didn’t expect this. In all of your preparation, you didn’t expect him to outright ask you to sit on his lap. And you didn’t expect him to do it so nonchalantly. It was as if this wasn’t his first rodeo, it definitely wasn’t, and it was as if you weren’t the first reporter he was coming onto, you definitely weren’t.

“Intimately?” You questioned, feigning ignorance.

Ryomen leaned forward in the seat, bringing one of his hands along with him. His elbow trailed along the table and rested his head in his hand. While his other hand snaked around your recorder and pressed pause, “Cut the bullshit, mama. And sit on my damn lap.” Anyone else, you would’ve felt violated. Harassed even. But this was hot. It made your plush thighs squeeze together to try and satiate the throbbing in your pussy. It started quickly and rose in heat at every passing second. What were you going to do? You could say no and end it right there. But you didn’t want to at all. You wanted to sit on his lap and feel his warm breath against your neck.

You stood up and marched over to the man, turning and going to sit on his lap. But you felt a hand stop you, “Take 'em off,” you heard him purr. Your pants? Your underwear? This was totally wrong and totally dubious, yet you wanted to see where it would go. You stripped, taking off your pants and laced panties, presenting your ass for him to see. Ryomen grabbed your hip and squeezed it, palming the skin a few times to get a feel for it. You looked back and he had already freed his cock from his gym shorts. Typical man, couldn’t wait a few seconds. He was large and hot, and it was getting you more hot every second you chose to stare at his dick. His other hand grabbed your other hip and slowly walked you backward, and soon he was aligning his penis with your folds. It tingled, how your genitals met and instantly clicked.

“We’re still doing the interview… right?” You inhaled sharply as he forced you down on his length. A gasp flew out of your mouth as you felt your pussy get stretched very slowly. He gently maneuvered you to sit, cradling your waist so you wouldn’t fall. He was so gentle, making sure this was a pleasurable experience all around for the both of you. Ryomen was good. He was so good at this. A playboy who knew how to fuck women so good and leave them begging for more.

You felt his mouth press into your neck, “Ask away, babe.” You leaned forward, exhaling at the sensation. Two of your small hands interlocked with his large one and removed the recorder from his grasp, turning it back on.

“What.. mm.. Inspired your fighting style?” You leaned back, moaning slightly at the sensation. You were being filled, it was so hot. Was this really the peak of interviewing? Was this really the peak of your life?

Ryomen exhaled and blew some air out of his mouth, responding with a bored answer about a fighter you hadn’t heard of before. The two of you did a good back and forth, about fighting and how his career truly started. He had only been doing this for a few years, so he still had so much to learn. At each question, you felt him get handsier and handsier. Two meaty hands planted on your hips, rocking you back and forth, and back and forth. It was a fleeting teasing sensation. Not enough to make you cum or feel anything, but enough to have you faltering in your sentences and stuttering consistently. You wanted to start bouncing or grinding, but you didn’t want to ruin the sensual air the two of you had created. You could tell he was starting to get restless, though, as his hands tightened on your skin.

“Ryomen…” You finally broke, turning your head to look back at him. Hazy eyes staring back at you, his mouth slightly agape, and a blush forming on his temples, “Why don’t we.. mm.. Pause the h-h.. Interview…? H-huh?” Your voice was fluttery and breathy, brushing against his ear in an arousing way.

“Mm.. I like the sound of that, mama,” a long and lazy smile formed on his mouth as he pressed a chaste kiss to yours. You weren’t prepared for his hands to force you up and then down on his shaft, forcing a pleasurable sting down your cunt. Up and down, and up and down. You gasped and threw your head back against his, moaning softly at the sensation.

“Ry..Ryom-mmm.. M.. h-h.. Hah … harde-e-er,” you rasped at the pleasure, and he didn’t have to be told twice. His hips thrust into your pussy slowly, before speeding up. Sure, he wanted to get you adjusted and content. But he was fiending for release. He was fiending to cum inside your pussy. It was hot and warm, clenching around his shaft in a way most women didn’t. In a way, most women couldn’t. You were different, you were so soft and you smelt like cherries. It sent waves of pleasure through his cock, tingling at his tip.

It was only a few seconds before his arms wrapped around your torso, hips snapping up into your ass. Two meaty hands gripped your breasts through your tight shirt, making you moan in pleasure. It wasn’t long after that, that you felt yourself spill over the edge and cum on his dick. Your juices felt so nice, so sticky, it made him cum a few seconds later. Squelching and plapping filled the air, along with faint groans from Ryomen. You felt the semen shoot into you, instantly snapping you to the fact you forgot to have the boxer put a condom on. The raw feeling of his penis rubbing up against your walls was so.. hot.. you just didn’t think about it.

“Oh fuck,” Ryomen muttered into your ear, slowing his thrusts to a stop, “You’re on birth control right?”

“…Nope,” you replied sheepishly.

“Aw shit.”ry

[elizaleclerc]

nobody else matters ❣️

charles leclerc x reader

summary: fem mc driver teases charles when they sneak off during media day <3 (a little 18+)

author’s note: thx for the love on my first post! feel free to message me w ideas :)

song: les by childish gambino

word count: 1.5k

The blistering sun beat down on you like a relentless hammer, its rays penetrating even the thick driver suit that clung to your body. Every step felt like walking through molten lava as you made your way through the crowd of the Miami paddock. The heat was suffocating, but you knew it would only get worse once you were inside the cockpit of your car, racing at top speeds.

Adjusting the snug neck strap of your navy blue Red Bull suit, you took a moment to fluff out your hair and reapply some makeup to combat the sweat-inducing temperatures. It was media day, and there were endless photos and interviews to be taken throughout the circuit. Red Bull's social media manager was in charge of guiding both you and Max around to various games and activities designed to showcase not just your driving skills, but also your personality off the track. From trivia challenges to racing on bouncy balls, each game added its own layer of entertainment for fans and media alike. And between all the fun, there were also professional photoshoots scattered throughout the day, capturing every angle of you and Max in your sleek suits against the vibrant backdrop of the race track.

In the high-stakes world of Formula One racing, Red Bull's main rival was none other than the prestigious Ferrari team. But for Max, it wasn't just about winning on the track - he also harbored a deep hatred for their lead driver, Charles Leclerc. Little did Max know that you, his own teammate, had been carrying on a secret romance with Charles for months now. The thrill and danger of sneaking around in the paddock, hiding your love from the prying eyes of media and fellow drivers, only added to the passion between you and Charles. He consumed your every thought, igniting a fiery desire that burned hotter than the scorching Miami sun.

Charles had a way of affecting your mood, even when he wasn't physically present. Whenever you were apart, there was a subtle shift in the air, as if a piece of you was missing. As a popular driver, Charles was no stranger to media attention, and despite your best efforts to keep your relationship under wraps, rumors still swirled about the two of you being more than just colleagues. But it was no secret how your face lit up whenever he was near, and how his own expression mirrored yours. In each other's company, it was as if the world melted away and all that mattered was the connection between you. Charles had become your everything - always checking in on you before every race and worrying over even the smallest of crashes. You were each other's constant support and strength amidst the chaos of the racing world.

Despite the exhilaration of keeping your forbidden romance with a rival driver hidden from the public eye, Charles's contract with Ferrari was set to expire at the end of this season. This presented him with the opportunity to switch teams and potentially join you at Red Bull. You had pleaded with him multiple times, urging him to take Max's place so that the two of you could finally race together. But Charles was adamant about wanting you by his side at Ferrari, making it a constant battle between your conflicting desires. This impasse seemed never ending, both of you refusing to budge from your positions, determined to make the best decision for yourselves and your racing careers.

Beads of sweat lingered on your flushed forehead as you wrapped up another exhilarating game outdoors for the media with Max. Your body was craving for a break from the scorching heat, and so you decided to make your way back to your driver room in the paddock.

You unzipped your tight driver suit, feeling instant relief as the cool air hit your damp skin. The thin white fireproof fabric clung to your body and provided some much-needed respite from the intense heat. As you opened the door to your driver room, it swung shut behind you, strong arms wrapping around your waist and soft lips pressing against yours. Charles' skin was glistening with sweat under the dim light, but the fiery passion and love between the two of you set the room ablaze.

Every time his hands touched your skin, it felt like fire spreading through your veins. His hot breath against your neck sent shivers down your spine as he whispered desperately, "God, I've missed you." You couldn't help but smile into his next kiss, knowing the effect you had on him.

"It's only been a few hours, darling" you teased, but secretly thrilled at his level of desire.

"You know I crave you all the time, mon amour," he murmured in a husky voice that made your whole body quiver with anticipation. As his hand trailed lower, you could feel yourself getting more and more aroused.

Charles noticed your heightened state and flashed a devilish grin. "How long is your break?" he asked mischievously.

You shook your head, trying to suppress a giggle. "No, we can't. Not here, are you insane?" But the thought of being caught only added to the thrill. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine giving in to such intense passion in the cramped quarters of your driver's room. And yet, the danger only fueled your desire. Outside, people were milling around the paddock, completely unaware of the fiery passion unfolding just feet away from them.

“Please, I need you,” he begged, his voice desperate and cracking. You couldn't resist the sight of him like this – tall and muscular with a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead. His eyes searched yours, pleading for you to fulfill his desires.

A smirk played on your lips as you leaned in closer, your own body buzzing with anticipation. “Oh baby,” you purred, running your fingers through his dark hair. “You know I can't resist when you beg like that.” Your hands trailed down his chest, undoing his driver's suit with practiced ease.

“Let me please you,” you whispered, your voice dripping with desire. And without hesitation, Charles was putty in your hands.

You pressed against him, feeling the heat and power emanating from his body. Your lips found their way to his neck, leaving a trail of passionate kisses and gentle bites. With each one, his breath grew heavier and his grip on you tighter.

Your hand slipped under the waistband of his pants, finding him already hardened with need. He let out a low moan as your touch sent shivers down his spine. And as your fingers explored further down, he could barely contain himself – caught between wanting more and wanting to hold onto this moment forever.

You trailed your fingers along his length, eliciting a deep groan from his throat. Your lips brushed against his ear as you asked, "How does that feel, baby?" He responded with a low moan and you continued to palm him, relishing in the way he melted under your touch.

His head tilted back and you took advantage of the exposed skin on his neck, peppering it with kisses while your hand worked its magic. As his breathing became more erratic and you could tell he was close, you suddenly stopped.

"What- what are you doing?" He questioned, confusion evident in his voice.

A devilish grin spread across your face as you whispered in his ear, "Once you tell me you want to drive in navy blue, we can do things like this more often."

He pulled back, his intense gaze filled with passionate anger and desire. "Oh mon amour, we both know you look better in red," he growled lowly.

Your bodies were mere inches apart, the heat between you building into a fiery intensity. He leaned in to kiss you again, your movements seamlessly meshing together. As he pulled away, you couldn't help but notice that he was still visibly aroused in his suit.

"Sit here for a moment and compose yourself. Slip out without getting caught," you whispered teasingly, a sly smile on your lips. You quickly zipped up your own suit and left your driver's room.

Stepping back into the warm air outside, you took a deep breath and grabbed a water bottle to cool your racing heart. A sense of pride swelled within you as you walked away from Charles, leaving him hanging with unfulfilled desire.

Little did you know, as you returned to Max and Red Bull's social media manager to prepare for the upcoming photo ops, that a stray worker had captured Charles leaving your room on their phone camera...

[plussizeappreciationfics]

One shot: Falling in love

Requested ? : yes by @queenoftheworldisdead

Request: Can you do Pedro pascal and plus reader? Maybe he falls for a costume designer on the set of one of his films?

Warning(s): nope

A/N: I changed it to the makeup artist if you don't mind! @queenoftheworldisdead

Image(s) found on Google/Pintersest

"He should be here any minute", Sarah, your assistant spoke as she watched you let out a long yawn before continuing to put the brushes, blushes, small bowl of fake blood and hair clips onto the table.

"He better, or else he won't need my makeup at all, I could beat his face with my bare hands" you joked while putting up your fists and pretending to punch an imaginary person. Your assistant chuckled and made a mental note to ask Pedro's assistant if they could make a tiktok video with that concept.

Before she could voice her thoughts, the door to the trailer opened and a loud "Buenas dias!" erupted through the small room, Pedro entering the trailer and quickly closing the door behind him and greeting the two of you with hugs and kisses on the cheeks.

At your turn, you couldn't help but inhale the fresh scent of his body wash and perfume. That man always smelled like he was blessed by the Gods themselves. The Chilean actor grinned at you before whispering another "Good morning, beautiful" to you, making sure that Sarah wouldn't hear his special greeting for you.

"Good morning, you're five minutes late. My time is money, Pascal" you playfully scolded while patting his back, making him give you a quick kiss on the cheeks. "I am sorry, I will be on time tomorrow", he promised and finally released you from the tight hug, not that you wanted it but it was time to get to work.

"Okay, today you're shooting a lot of fight scenes, so your face is gonna look pretty beaten and bloody", you informed to which Pedro sighed and nodded his head, knowing that today would be a physical exhausting day. Nonetheless, he loved his job and loved that he got to spend the following hour in peace and with you.

"Okay, I'll see if Denzel is ready, if he is then I'll start his makeup too" Sarah informed you. You hummed in response while focusing your eyes on the makeup you had set up, ready to be used. She nodded her head at your vocal response and quickly left the trailer, knowing that you and Pedro needed all the concentration in the world.

Once Sarah had closed the door behind her, Pedro sat down in his designated chair and removed his glasses, placing them on the table and letting out a tired sigh before focusing his gaze on you. You were standing next to him, leaning over to open the SFX makeup jar while thinking about how long and deep the first fake scar would need to look like.

"I'm really Sorry, mi amor. I overslept" Pedro's gentle voice pulled you out of your rhythm, to which you chuckled and faced him while silently admiring his beautiful face. His eyes stared deeply into your and he had this genuine look of regret on his face, his brown eyes begging you for forgiveness.

"You have nothing to worry about Pedro, I was half joking" you chuckled and patted him on his shoulder, not realizing that goosebumps had made their way across his skin at your touch, his stomach churned in delight nervousness while his heart fluttered in his chest. That man was long gone for you.

"When are we going to address this" Pedro responded, his question making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion and surprise, your heart skipping a beat as you felt like you had been caught doing something you weren't supposed to do.

"Address what?" you asked and let out a nervous chuckle, the actor's piercing and loving gaze keeping you on your toes. The tension shifted in the trailer and a part of you knew that you needed to start doing your job or else the director would get annoyed at the delay.

"How we both are hopelessly in love with one another. How I can feel your increased heartbeat whenever I hug you, how you're the first and last thing on my mind. How I know that you're not gonna allow yourself to voice your deepest thoughts about your feelings towards me because you know that falling in love with an actor is not the most convenient thing on this planet".

Pedro gave you a wide smile, his eyes sparkling while you sat there awestruck. He had read you like an open book and you felt somehow exposed but at the same time relieved because he had indeed voiced your deepest thoughts.

A shaky sigh left your lips as you broke the intense eye contact for a few seconds, needing to gather your thoughts.

"Pedro..." you sighed and looked back at him again, seeing how he leaned forwards and gently placed his hands on your thick waist, pulling you closed to him so that now you were standing in front of him.

He gently wrapped his strong arms around your waist and placed his chin on your big stomach, smiling up at you and looking so damn adorable and handsome that it made your heart skip a beat while a delicate shiver ran its way down your spine.

"I know what you're thinking. I am asking you for one date, an afternoon or evening where it's just the two of us and nobody else. No work, no coworkers just us. If you decide to not pursue your feelings and keep things professional, I will do the same", Pedro's suggestion sounded heavenly.

"Okay, one date. And then a few days time to gather my thoughts and then I'll let you know my decision" you repeated with a quick head nod, loosing the inner battle of not touching the actor and gently letting your soft hand brush through his still damp curls. The motion made the actor let out a soft sigh, already loving your touch and yearning for only more.

"Thank you. I will set everything up, all I need from you is to show up".

"Don't tell me that, I will show up in sweats and a baggy shirt" you chuckled and shook your head.

Pedro surprised you by quickly standing up, still holding you in close while a wide grin took over his face.

"I don't give a fuck how you'll dress up, I'm already blessed to know that I'll spend a few hours with you", his romantic confession made you bite back a shit-eating grin as you felt your knees weaken.

"We gotta get back to work now, or both of our asses will be served on a silver platter" you spoke and let out a sigh, wishing that this moment would never stop. You had finally gotten the confession you had been secretly been hoping and wishing for. A deep sense of peace and glee settled in your soul as you couldn't wait for the special date.

"Then let's get back to work, but not before this-" Pedro surprised you by leaning forward and stealing a soft, gentle kiss from your lips. The delicateness of his motion making your head spin while your lips tingled with glee. You gasped at the sensations and pushed the actor back in his seat, making him let out a chuckle while you shook your head and finally got to work on his face.

[cherryredlove]

hi darling!! i just saw your modern!aemond one-shot with a model!reader and i just love it, and i wanted to ask for another one shot with a model!reader, not necessarily a smut, i mean,it could be them as a couple just taking a vacation in the countryside or on a paradisiacal beach or even simply Aemond supporting his girlfriend at a rehearsal or fashion show, or the opposite. <3

hiya! absolutely love this request so decided to combine all of it together! hope you enjoy this fluffy love xoxo

☆ his grand prix prize: the holiday ☆

F1 Driver! Aemond Targaryen x Model! Reader

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

After a career-defining runway, your devoted F1 star boyfriend whisks you away for a holiday of romance.

Word Count: 1.5k

Themes: just pure lovin fluff as per the delightful request, reader and aemond r cutie simps, alcohol consumption, tooth rotting fluff!!!

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

You stand in the wings of the bustling backstage area of the Highgarden Haute Couture fashion show, surrounded by the orchestrated chaos of models, designers, and stylists making last-minute adjustments. It’s one of the biggest nights of the season, and the energy is electric. You adjust your clothes and take a moment to centre yourself before stepping out onto the runway. A makeup artist fusses around you, dabbing blusher on your cheeks, but you hardly hear her.

For the past several years, you’ve become a household name in the fashion world, the face of numerous campaigns and covers. But tonight’s event is something special. Highgarden Haute Couture is your home turf, where you first made a name for yourself, and tonight, the stakes are higher than ever.

Out in the audience, Aemond Targaryen, the man turned boyfriend who has somehow managed to capture both your heart and admiration, sits in the front row. As one of F1’s top drivers, he’s usually more at home in the paddock or racing down a track at breakneck speed. But tonight, he’s traded his race suit for an impeccably tailored black velvet suit that hugs his athletic frame. His slicked back silver hair and amethyst eyes amplify his allure, drawing all eyes to him, even in a room filled with models and celebrities.

The lights dim, and the music shifts to a rhythmic pulse that echoes in your body. You’re next. As you prepare to step onto the runway, a small, knowing smile plays on your lips. You know Aemond is watching, his gaze unyielding and proud. You can feel the heat of it, even from backstage.

When you finally stride out onto the runway, the audience’s eyes turn to you, but you only have eyes for one person in the crowd. Amidst the flashing cameras and whispers of the fashion elite, Aemond’s gaze is the anchor that grounds you. The way he looks at you, with such pride and admiration, sends a thrill up your spine.

Each step you take is deliberate and confident, your body draped in the exquisite fabric of Highgarden’s latest collection. The dress is a masterpiece, a delicate blend of sheer lace, and intricate floral embroidery that clings to your frame, accentuating every curve. You feel powerful, beautiful, and bolstered by your loving boyfriend.

You reach the end of the runway and hold your pose, letting the photographers capture the moment. As you turn to make your way back, hips swaying, your eyes meet Aemond’s. His lips curve into a smile, one that’s just for you, and your heart skips a beat. You’re used to adoring fans and lavish praise, but nothing compares to the silent support and unwavering belief Aemond gives you.

After the show, you find Aemond waiting for you backstage. The chaos of the event swirls around you, but the moment you see him, everything else fades into the background. He’s leaning against a column, hands tucked into his pockets, his expression one of casual confidence. The moment his eye meets yours, he straightens, his smile widening.

“You were incredible,” he says as you approach, pulling you into a warm embrace. “That dress was made for you."

You laugh softly, feeling the adrenaline from the show begin to ebb away. “It was, wasn’t it? But you’re just biased.”

“Perhaps,” he agrees, brushing a kiss to your forehead. “But that doesn’t make it any less true.”

You pull back slightly to look up at him, your fingers lightly tracing the edge of his lapel. “Thank you for coming. I know this isn’t really your scene.”

He shrugs, his expression fond. “It is when you’re here. Besides, how could I miss watching my favourite model steal the show?”

Your cheeks warm under his gaze, and you feel a rush of affection for the man standing before you. It’s moments like these, away from the glitz and glamour, that you cherish the most. “And what about you, Mr. Targaryen? What’s next on your agenda?”

His grin turns slightly mischievous, and you know he’s up to something. “I have a surprise for you,” he says, his voice low and teasing.

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow. “Should I be worried?”

“Only if you don’t like sunshine and secluded beaches,” he replies, producing two plane tickets from his jacket pocket and handing them to you.

Your eyes widen in surprise as you take the tickets, scanning the details. “Dorne?” You squeal. “You’re taking me to Dorne?"

Aemond nods, his satisfaction evident. “A little getaway. Just you, me, and the sun. I figured we both could use a break.”

You can hardly contain your excitement as you throw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. The idea of escaping the hectic schedules and demands of your respective careers for a private holiday is too enticing to resist. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

He chuckles, wrapping his arms around you. “I try. So, are you in?”

“Absolutely,” you reply, already imagining the golden sands and shimmering waters of Dorne. “When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow morning,” he says, leaning down to capture your lips in a soft kiss.

The next day, the two of you board a private jet bound for Dorne. The flight is luxurious and comfortable, allowing you to unwind and enjoy each other’s company. As the plane soars above the clouds, you steal loving glances at Aemond, who’s reclining in his seat, his expression relaxed and content, glass of whiskey in hand. He looks every bit the handsome, confident man you fell in love with, and you feel a swell of gratitude.

You land in Dorne to a burst of warm sunlight and a gentle breeze that carries the scent of the sea. A sleek car waits to take you to your destination—a secluded beachfront villa nestled amidst lush greenery and overlooking the crystal-clear waters of the Summer Sea.

As you step out of the car, the view takes your breath away. The beach stretches out before you, its sands golden and inviting, and the sound of waves gently lapping at the shore fills the air. It’s paradise, a world away from the demands of your careers.

Aemond takes your hand, guiding you toward the villa. “What do you think?” he asks, his voice holding a note of nervous anticipation.

“It’s perfect,” you breathe, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. “Thank you, Aemond. This is exactly what we needed.”

He smiles, pleased by your reaction. “I thought so. Come on, let’s make the most of it.”

The days blend into a blissful routine of sun-soaked relaxation and intimate moments. You spend your mornings lounging on the beach, the warm sand beneath you and the sun kissing your skin. Aemond joins you, his presence a comforting constant, as he reads or indulges in light-hearted teasing.

In the afternoons, you explore the beauty of Dorne, wandering through picturesque towns and savoring the local cuisine. The vibrant colors and rich culture captivate you, and you find yourself enchanted by the land and how you can share it with your lover.

One evening, as the sun begins its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you find yourself back at the villa, enjoying a quiet dinner on the terrace. The table is set with an array of delectable dishes, and the soft glow of candles adds a romantic touch to the scene.

You gaze at Aemond across the table, your heart full of gratitude for this unforgettable experience. “I could get used to this,” you confess, sipping a glass of chilled Dornish wine.

He chuckles, reaching across the table to take your hand in his. “So could I. But don’t worry; we still have a few more days before reality calls us back.”

After dinner, you move to the lounge, where a gentle breeze carries the soothing sounds of the ocean through the open windows. You curl up on the plush couch, Aemond’s arm draped over your shoulders.

“I’m so glad you’re here with me,” you murmur, resting your head against his chest.

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

As the stars begin to twinkle above, you find yourself lost in the contentment of the moment. It’s a rare escape from the demands of your lives.

Aemond shifts slightly, drawing you closer. “You know,” he begins, his voice low and tender, “watching you on that runway, seeing how incredible you are at what you do… it made me realize how lucky I am.”

You tilt your head to meet his gaze, your heart swelling with affection. “You’re my biggest fan, Aemond. I couldn’t do it without you.”

He smiles, his eye glinting with warmth. “And you’re mine. We make quite the team, don’t we?”

You nod, feeling a sense of certainty in his words. In the paddock, on the runway, your hearts belong to each other.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

AN: loved just spitting out this gorgeous fluff, plz plz send in requests! i love writing for you guys like this! hope you enjoy @luckyfirebasement ♡⚝♡

[atinystaypixie]

SugarDaddy!Toji Retiring Babygirl #2

Read Part 1 here

18+ MDNI!!

SugarDaddy!Toji and Babygirl after he retired her (NSFW tumblr link)

Toji and Y/n both madly in love with each other. Once he retired her, the time they spent together felt as natural as breathing. The couple enjoys each other’s company every second of every day.

Many of those moments were spent in the room he had specially designed for you. Lights setting a sensual mood, pole in the middle of the floor, mirrors decorating the surrounding walls. Toji knew his baby still loved dancing even though you left the scene and he’s the type to get you anything you like. Your happiness being his main goal but the bonus being personal performance from you.

There were speakers in the room that allowed music to flow out. Toji would catch your practicing or making a new routine some days and would stand at the door admiring the flow of your body. He didn’t know why you being on the pole spinning and flipping enticed him so much, but the raven haired man could watch you all day.

His favorite times were times like tonight. His girl treating him to a show of her new full routine because he had been working so hard. Sitting in the chair placed so he has a front row seat, Toji gets comfortable and waits for his girl to start her private show for him. Your feet having an expensive pair of heels that he has bought you, lingerie that makes him desperate to touch you, and makeup done to perfection waiting to be ruined by him. 

You begin your dance, circling the pole before wrapping a leg around it. With every count of the beat, your body moves and holds Toji’s full attention. He won’t miss a second of the gift his baby is giving him. No matter how many times you dance for him, he will always be hypnotized by you. Mind black, hands aching to feel you, and pants tightening at the sight of you. Toji’s anticipation grows when he sees you start climbing the pole.The man zoning in on the exposed flesh of your thighs and ass.

When you reach height, you do a few spins before locking your legs around the metal.This is his favorite part. The recreation of the scene that brought you two together on that night he visited the club where you were performing. You let your top half fall backwards, breast pushing out as you slightly arch your back. You make a slow descent upside down before pausing. This leaves you face to face with Toji. He leans in for a quick peck to your lips, running his tongue over them to get a taste of his favorite girl. Toji runs his hands over your body, finally getting relief from touching you. Eager for what’s coming next, Toji gives you space to continue. Your fingers grip at his thighs for balance causing his dick to twitch. You unfold your legs from the pole and let them flip to the wideness of Toji’s shoulders.

The man is met with your clothed cunt in his face, his happy place. You begin to wind your hips feeling him grab at your thighs. He litters wet kisses from the inside of your thighs till he reaches your covered clit. The attention causes you to shiver and pull your legs close before lowering to the ground. You turn and face Toji laying your head on his lap as you rub up and down the length of his muscular thighs now. A calloused hand cups your face, thumb rubbing your cheek as loving eyes are cast upon you. “Up, doll. Daddy wants to unwrap his treat,” his gruff voice flows to your ears.

You stand and turn so that your back is to his chest with your hand pulling his head to your neck. His bulge is visible and hard poking your soft flesh. You grind on him as he holds you licking at your neck. Toji reaches around and sticks his hand down the front of your outfit to find home on one of your boobs. Groping at your skin before tugging your straps down one by one. He stills your hips to stand up bringing you with him. Pulling the outfit till it falls to your feet leaving you bare and exposed for the beefy man behind you. Feeling his hand trail your spine while steadily applying pressure gives you the signal to start bending over. Your hands hit the floor first, then you slide your chest lower, and now your legs are widening as you start hitting a split. The move gives Toji an eye full. He’s going to fuck you right here on this floor. It won’t be the first nor last time he takes you here. Your body causes his dick to lead him.

Toji removes all his clothes, stripping off his shirt, pants, and boxers. Your naked body only accompanied by your heels are calling to him. He falls to his knees behind your open legs and cups your wet pussy. “T’is all for me, doll? I’m honored.” He flashes you a smile in the mirror that’s surrounding you. He runs a thumb down your slit making you moan from his touch before he lands a heavy smack on your ass. Toji lifts your hips high enough to slot his legs under yours and drops you back down. He’s sitting flat with you in a split on his lap.

With the view of you spread pretty for him, Toji feels his cock get impossibly harder. The love of his life exposed and ready to take him has his head swirling with sinful thoughts. He grips the heavy girth in his hand and taps it on your ass. You arch, showing him more of your folds making him chuckle. “Alright, doll. I’ll give you what you want.” You feel him grab you and spread you open before there is circling at your opening. Moaning and rocking backwards trying to get him inside you makes Toji give you a stinging smack. “I said I would give it to you, now be patient.” The man says deeply. He drags his cock from your hole to your clit, rubbing his tip to it. Your voice echoing through the room as you whine to him from the stimulation.

It’s when he takes his length and pushes into you slowly that your voice gets caught in your throat. He’s going inch by inch. The raven haired man letting you feel every vein and throb of his thick cock. He keeps going till all of him has found sanctuary inside of your warmth. A rough hand runs down your skin letting you adjust to the familiar intrusion of him. His voice reaching your ears when he says, “fuck me, doll.” That’s all it takes to have you sitting up to bounce on his dick. Your hands hold his thighs for leverage as you sink back to the base of his length each time. His name falling from your lips like a mantra. Toji’s in a trance watching your cunt swallow him whole. When his dick is revealed, there’s a trace of you covering him. His dick coated in your essence.

He can’t take it anymore. He loves when you treat him, but can never resist to take control and fuck you like a dirty slut. From the first night you met, Toji always showed he cares more for your pleasure than his. You feel his arms encircle your waist and his breath at your ear, “thank you, baby. Let me treat you now.” Toji pulls out of you to lay you on your back with your heel clad feet wrapping around him. Before you have time to complain, he’s inside of you delivering heavy strokes. Your insides clamp onto him as he slides in and out. “Shiittt, Daddy! Right there! Right there!” You yell as he repeatedly hits your g-spot. Toji groans as he feels your nails drag down his back making his balls tighten.

He leans in to kiss you as you both are moaning from the feeling of each other. Toji grabs your face and makes you focus on what he’s saying. “You feel me? Feel how deep I am?” He asks proudly as he takes a large hand and presses it to your stomach. Your eyes roll back for the pressure he is applying. He starts rubbing tight circles on your clit with his other hand making your body convulse. “That’s it, baby. Give it to me, come on.” The man talks you through your orgasm. His voice only adds to the pleasure making you cream around his cock. Overstimulation kicks in once you realize he hasn’t stopped his movements. “One more baby. I know you can do it.” Toji begins slamming into you, turning your brain to mush. He loves the way you have tears running down your cheek and can’t stop babbling. 

“I’m close, doll. Cum with me.” He grunts into the crook of your neck. The tightening of your slick walls causes the man to erupt inside of you while you cum around him again. He gives slow thrust, working you both through your high. “Toji. I love you” Your voice lands on his ears as you kiss at his skin.

“Not as much as I love you.” He responds back. You laugh at his response not knowing of the shiny diamond ring he had custom made for you. The ring he would be placing on your finger soon.

Thoughts of a Slutty Virgin - 🧚🏽‍♀️

I hope you enjoyed this one. It had been on my mind for a sec. My writing isn't the best so I really appreciate the love yall showed for the first part 💜

ENJOY!

Pixie's Mastertlist

Wanna join my taglist?

Taglist: @444ghosty @un-lawliet @witchbybirth

[beatrice1979a]

Sunburn

Reverse Marinette's first heartbreak

credits: @adorkastock for this pose

@bgony for alt chloe design.

Yes that's reverse Adrien many months before his haircut.

@generalluxun for Chloe's sunny character concept. Marvelous just Marvelous! Chloe can kill with kindness. Check their reverse fics Note that Alt!Chloe is definitely NOT into Adrien or any man. But I needed a Chloe. Update: read this post here for more about this Chloe. Let's pretend for a moment the Supreme forced her to date Paris' beloved teen celebrity for the Greater Good. What's even scarier is that this brainwashed Chloe would probably comply gladly.

**

Sunburn

(English is not my first language. So grin and bear it)

They say never meet your heroes or, in this case, your beloved idol. Marinette learned this the hard way.

She was beside herself when she learned that, despite the rumors of having (yet again) a new Supreme-sanctioned girlfriend, the self-proclaimed teen heartthrob Sunshine Boy Adrien was having an informal meet and greet at Le Grand Paris. Just two blocks away from her own home. There was no point asking for permission. Her parents would never allow it. But this chance was too good to let it lapse. 

It was dark and everyone was asleep. She grabbed a few magazines and one of the many pictures scattered all over her punk themed bedroom and, silently escaped her room by climbing down the side wall of her three storey home. She ran into the night and camped, hours before dawn, by the expected location, right near the entrance of the fanciest hotel in Paris. It was chilly and slightly humid as the sun climbed the sky but Marinette didn't pay any mind even as the noisy swarm of fans started gathering all around the area forcing her to push and fight to keep her privileged spot in the queue.

There he was, Adrien Agreste in the flesh, even more handsome than portrayed in the heavily retouched press photos or the official telescreen channels. Her heart skipped a beat and she charged forward to beg for an autograph.

And then she saw her.

His arm around her with such unbearable familiarity. Her golden messy hair precariously arranged in two braided ponytails. Unmistakably her. Blinding her with that sunny personality and that oh-so-hideous saccharine smile plastered on that ridiculously pretty doll-like face: Chloe. Chloe Bourgeois. The snobbiest prissy miss perfect, top-of-the-class loved-by-all daughter of the mayor of Paris. Chloe Bourgeois. Her bully. Her tormentor. The only person who single-handedly made her life a total misery every single day since kindergarten. Even today on this otherwise auspicious day.

She felt something snap and, for a moment, she couldn't move. As she missed her chance, she got shoved and pushed by the hoards of screeching fans hopelessly drawn to the golden pair like moths to a flame. A flame Marinette could no longer see with tears clouding her sight and threatening to ruin her heavy makeup and the magazines she clutched for dear life onto her chest.

Then another spark blew from her heart, and fire swallowed her whole, uncontrolled, until it scorched her feelings and escaped her lips in a shaken broken whisper: I hate you.

I hate you. She repeated and ran as fast as she could until she crashed back in her bed. She ignored the angry protests of her parents and, possessed by an irrational anger, she dragged all the posters, the pictures, the Supreme endorsed propaganda and threw them into the open fire of the large oven at the back of the bakery. She just stood there hypnotized, staring and staring as that pretty boy face writhed in the flames.

When everything was reduced to ashes, she pulled her phone and called that guy who'd been pestering her for the last few months, begging her for a date. And she agreed. Because she also wanted to shine. She wanted to be loved and held tightly, and worshipped even if for just a moment, even if that moment was going to be with that obnoxious, arrogant, stuck-up class president, Le Chien Kim.

But maybe just then she would finally stop feeling like such a loser for having that ridiculous crush for someone who didn't even know she existed.

And with those thoughts she promised to never succumb to the whims of her heart ever again.

But Marinette was right at least for one thing: Adrien Agreste had never even seen her before in his life. Not until a few weeks later when he decided to finally surprise his mother with her favorite artisan macarons and his feet dragged him to the door of the most popular bakery of the 21th arrondissement.

Come let the truth be shared No one ever dared To break these endless lies Secretly, she cries

And I'll hide from the world Behind a broken frame And I'll run forever I can't face the shame

[rapunzelbro]

Heartbeats in Harmony 1 Velvette x Reader

An: Hi! So this fanfic is something that came to be literally because of a Chappell Roan song. Reader is super based on her too. This fanfic is taking place in the early 2000’s assuming the show takes place farther in the future. And because well. This is my story lol. Reader is 24 and Velvettes 25. This is before they go to hell and will slowly go into that. Anywho enjoy.

Masterlist 1 2

It's everyone's dream to be famous, to have all the attention on you. The money, the fans screaming song lyrics that you wrote at a large venue. But honestly? All you wanted was some peace and quiet. You wanted one day where you didn't have to worry about what to say in an interview or even how you'd keep a personal life. You knew what you signed up for when you started this career, and you'd never mentally adjust. That's why you created that persona.

The person who had the confidence you didn't, who doesn’t care what she wore, what she sang about. She was everything you wanted to be, but couldn't. She had perfectly styled hair, stunning dramatic makeup with the most sparkly outfit you could imagine. The famous one, the person you hid behind to keep yourself from going insane. Well, at least for right now.

Wincing, you hear the obnoxious noise of your alarm that only intensifies with your hangover, you sit up tiredly to turn it off, only to have it drop to the floor to add to your frustration. “Damn it come on” you mutter, standing up trying to locate where your phone is, laying on the floor to try and grab it from under your bed. A groan followed after taking too long to find it, “Darling, I love you, but you need to stop keeping that shit on after we go to the club” the other side of the bed shifted when you finally found it and sat back down. “I know Vel, I just forgot, sorry baby” Rubbing your eyes you look over at her, moving back under the covers with her, gently kissing her forehead. “Forgiven, come here” she muttered, getting closer to you, placing her head on your chest, her tight curls acting as a cushion, you two stayed in silence as she listened to the rhythm of your heart beat. “You have to leave soon, you know my manager is coming by” you finally spoke up “They can fuck off, no relationships allowed is an idiotic rule.” Velvette muttered sitting up after you ruined the moment. “I know, but it’s only to protect you”

Velvette was a close friend. Oh hell, who were you kidding, she was your girlfriend. You have known each other since highschool, she was the only one you honestly kept in contact with after you graduated. She has one hell of a passion for designing, so when you needed someone to help design your persona, you knew she was the one to help. She knew her shit and was excited to help, being the only one to truly support your desire for a music career, and you being the only one to support her dream of being a fashion designer. You two became inseparable ever since.

But the fame came too quickly practically overnight, it was too overwhelming for the both of you to manage alone, in desperate times you signed over to an industry that had reached out first, you didn’t think of the repercussions. You just needed the help, so you blindly took that deal. They got you started with gigs, collaborations, body guards, so much. But doing so, caused you to have to shift your persona to their standards, limit your friends and relationships. She would be everything as she was before, but more… adult. The songs, the music, dancing, her attitude, it wasn't what you wanted, but you had no choice but to adjust to their demands. While it made your career soar, you couldn't help the loneliness that consumed you.

“How much longer of that contract do you even have left now?” Velvette looked at you, an annoyed look on her face as you took her hand. “Two years, then I can find an agency that doesn’t force me to hide my partner.” Rolling your eyes you give her hand a quick squeeze before going to the bathroom to freshen up. “Though after the song I’m performing tonight, they’ll probably drop my ass” You call out, giving a slight chuckle as you come out of the bathroom beginning your makeup. “You’re seriously going to perform that? You might ruin all we worked for babe..” Velvette stands up draping her arms around your shoulders as she watches you apply your makeup, curiosity lingering in her eyes “If they can’t handle it then maybe they haven’t heard any of my music correctly, and the underlying meanings of it.” You respond by shrugging slightly before turning around in your chair gently putting your hands on her face “I want to show you off, not hide you, the damn rumors of me being with you are not exactly clearing up, why not confirm it?” Kissing her you turn back around to finish your makeup.

Velvette gives a slight hum in agreement, before grabbing her stuff from your room. “See you at 6?” she looks at you as she grabs the door handle. “Wouldn’t miss it” you reply smiling looking back at her. “Kisses Darling, good luck tonight” Velvette waves before leaving. Your smile drops as she leaves, giving a frustrated sigh you continue to prepare for your manager to arrive, you couldn’t wait to cause absolute hell tonight.

Taglist @the--rebel--fae @rainbowbunny15 @anxietycomments @bonkbonkbobk @leathesimp

[b00tyliciousbabe]

my baby daddies - ep. 1

my comeback era xx

arón piper x male reader

summary: inside edition the slutty thoughts i have for mr piper xx

notes: hi ppl, hope y’all missed me. i’m back, after like a year of hibernation, with another imagine! hope you guys are all doing well <3 i will be releasing 2 other series (‘the DILFs’ and a surprise one 🤭) so stay tuned! plus y’all better thank me, I lost this draft not once, but TWICEEEE! happy with this iteration though.

apologies in advance y’all this is gonna be chaotic…and my spanish is very rusty.

you met arón on the set of ‘elite’ because you were in between working with the hair and makeup team whilst designing the costumes. You had familiarised yourself with the entire crew and made loads of friends but from day 1 it was clear that your connection with him was unparalleled. the pinnacle of romantic chemistry. it’s giving one of those moments in the films when the two lovers have their meet cute, staring into each others eyes and the rest of the world is just in their peripheral because at that moment only two people exist - you and him. From then on, the whole crew shipped you guys together, with your work besties ester (who plays carla) and mina (who plays nadia) urging you to make out with him. He too was not exempt from this teasing, and a lot of his fellow male cast mates lowkey pressured him to ask you out. Whilst the premiere was coming up, you began sorting out the final designs for the next season, he ran into the studio wearing nothing but calvin briefs.

“Y/N, you’ve gotta help me.” He said desperately. You were taken aback. You’d never seen someone look so hot while they were needy.

“hey arón, what seems to be the problem?” He threw his hands up in the air in frustration. “can’t you see I’m practically naked?” You bit your lips taking in all of him “failing to see the issue here” which garnered a chuckle from him. “please y/n i’m so lost right now, i have no clue what to do” arón began panting which made you panic a lil bit. Placing your hands on his chest, you calmed his beating heartbeat “it’s okay, you know i’ve got you” Pulling one of your personal designs from the rack, you dressed him like he was your ken doll.

“i can do my own buttons you know,” he smiled watching you concentrate and manipulate the fabric to accentuate his features “i know but you wouldn’t be able to execute the vision i had for you in my mind” his eyes softened “you base your designs off me?” you looked up and met his gaze. “i’m not tryna give you a big head or anything, because it’s already quite elliptical, but kinda i guess.” he giggled as you watched his smile make his face look even cuter. “awww you got a lil crush on me,” aròn chuckled as you playfully beat his chest. “i mean, you’re handsome af I’ll give you that,” you felt his chest heaving with passion “why do you ask?” aròn held both your hands stopping you from working. “y/n,” you look up, all doe-eyed, surprised at the lack of distance between your lips. he breathed closer, opening the gates to your mouth as he graced you with a peck that lasted what felt like ages. the rest was history; that night he debuted the two of you as a couple to which was met with so much love.

you are at your gushiest whenever aròn smiles. it just makes you feel so happy seeing him so cute and all. stroking his cheek in the morning staring at him grinning in his sleep - probably dreaming of you.

the art of communication has always been strong in your relationship. your spanish-german bf was trilingual and meeting you pushed him to learn more on the side. your spanish was decent, certainly nothing to be proud but it improved drastically working on the show and being with aron. you were also highly proficient in two other languages and so he was adding to your roster. your relationship with him was a testament to the betterment of both people in a couple, you both pushed each other to try new things.

aron’s love language is definitely physical touch closely followed by gift giving, and so it made sense that he would buy you jewellery (even giving you his own) so he could both adore and adorn you. your favourite present he’s ever given you was the ‘A’ necklace he flaunts in a lot of his insta posts. he just loves seeing it around your neck - he’s yours. he even has an ‘A’ tattoo that now always reminds him of you.

even in the bedroom the necklace pays a huge role:

“my pretty little muñequita, fuck you feel so good.” he praised, railing you painstakingly slowly in missionary. you watched his eyes mirroring your overstimulated expression, as it darkened with his desire for more. you moved to his necklace which swung gracefully with every deep thrust. “ughhh” aròn’s moans got even loader you picked the pendant up and put it in between his teeth to muffle him. the sweat began to drip off his face as he began to imprint his teeth into the crystals, groaning in pleasure. “Nghhhh nghhh nghhh” it was getting too much for him as he dropped it, all red, hot, and bothered, directly into your mouth. You bit it seductively making your bf smile. other times when he’s hitting it from the back in prone bone, your hot bodies are cooled by the ice around his neck providing an amazing sensation when he spurts his warm cum inside you.

aròn is pretty decently hung, a bit on the skinnier side, nothing monstery, but deffo larger than average and it bends to the left. his favourite position is probably missionary; he wants to see the pleasure he’s giving you. the moans, your eyes, your lips, he wants to soak it all up and treasure every single expression you make whilst he’s inside you. you really like cowgirl as you’ve noticed it gets the most laughs and smiles from him, your biggest weakness. aròn loves it as well. the sight of you holding his pecs, bouncing up and down his pole as he grabs your ass sends him into overdrive. “shit mi amor, ughh, fuck, you sure know how to ride my dick.”

his kryptonite is oral. he’s such a whore for that mouth of yours. you guys waited for quite a while to have any nsfw activity because you wanted to establish a deep romantic connection first. so about 6 months into your relationship, you gave him head for the first time and OH MY GOSHHHH. you were coming back from date night, aròn wore an unbuttoned white dress shirt with chains and rings, all styled by you. it was raining and y’all decided to walk around the city and so tour chivalrous boyfriend offered his blazer to stop you from getting cold. you had never been more attracted to him. the way his wet hair laid messy on his head, abs protruded through his drenched shirt, it turned you on. so when you got into his apartment, you grabbed his hand and took him into the bedroom.

“despacio baby” he chuckled. you pushed him onto the bed, straddling and welcoming him with a kiss. you felt him grow beneath your ass, a sign for you to get on your knees. “y/n, wait what are you doing” aròn says as you began to unbuckle his pants. you didn’t hear, your brain too loud with horny thoughts to answer him. “cariño…” he held your hands at his belt. “are you sure you want to do this.” he asked worriedly, knowing how important sex was to you. “i’ve never been more sure of anything in my life” you mirrored his smirk, as he moved his hands, unbuttoning his shirt whilst you pulled his pants to his trousers. His tan cock stood strong, pink tip peaking through his freckled foreskin. he had a light brown bush leading up to his happy trail, urging you to lick down from his abs to his balls. “I’m so hard right now,” you started bobbing up and down and noticed how much of a panter he was. when he was close you started to deepthroat, to which he responded with a loud moan, yanking his dick out of your mouth and giving you the nastiest facial ever.

fucking loved it, as if he couldn’t love you more already…you were such a cockdrunk slut for him.

music plays a huge part of your relationship. when you guys are in the sheets, the symphony that comes from your bedroom is actually next level. oftentimes, aròn catches you humming and singing in the shower, to your embarrassment. “why are you hiding your face, your voice is incredible.” he praises. for his upcoming album, whilst in the studio, you came to check up on your bf bringing your freshly homemade brownies that you knew he loved. you knew aròn had been having a bit of a hard time completing one of the final tracks. as his team listened back to the record your bf was getting frustrated “ughhh it’s shit!” as he growled chucking song sheets across the room. “y/n you’ve got to speak to him, no one else is getting through to him and we are on a tight deadline” the executives who were present at the times warned. “he’ll be ready, i can assure you” you urged everyone else to leave the room. “aròn.” he didn’t answer. your tone softened, “papí…” you moved to him, noticing how tense he was getting. he looked up at you with teary eyes, hurting at how anxious he was getting. you knew what to do. “come on.” he followed u back into the recording booth. the track was playing, and all you did was talk, he spoke about his issues with fame, love, and life, and it was the perfect outro/interlude. you also added background vocals and harmonies into his tracks and the media went wild for it!

[t-allyitup]

erm ... draft of high school/ya designs for the rest of the cul de sac that i haven't sketched yet . nazz, jonny, jimmy, sarah specifically. i'll do the kankers soon maybe ? idk

some notes:

jonny: i really wanted jonny with cornrows/braids to work but it doesn't really align with my personal image of him so i did a test sketch and decided i didn't like it. his natural hair is just gonna flow. his shirt is a fela kuti shirt with the neckline cut off so it sits more loose, and i can honestly see him lounging in sweats and pj pants a lot. he def wears lots of bleach dyed shirts and muscle tanks imo. shoes could either be some of those sherpa lined ox blood red timbs or super beat up yellow slip on vans ... im undecided. he has some piercings and probably pulls a frank ocean and dyes his hair green and gets a buzz cut eventually too. i drew him with piercings but im not really a fan of how it turned out so im ignoring those. i personally hc jonny as aroace, just to mention

nazz: i have an hc or i guess just in my universe nazz is korean-american and dyes her hair like beabadoobee (platinum blonde with grown out roots) and maybe has some electric blue streaks in her hair. she has freckles and a septum piercing and bangle bracelets and wears chokers (i forgot to draw these tho oops). she likes bootcut jeans and halter tops... she def goes braless imo ik thats a weird hc but idk i think she's soooo early 2000s in lots of her lore so it mAkes sense. i wish i had drawn her less skinny, in my head she's more midsize and like pear shaped ig but with thinner forearms and calves. also want to note that her eye makeup is meant to be sharp and exaggerated ... i feel like looking back on this it looks like i made her eyes a very over-exaggerated almond shape but i didn't mean for them to come out that sharp i suppose

sarah: tallllllllllllllllllllllllll asf ! wears a lot of denim shorts and converse. i also think a lot of her little stylistic notes play off of nazz, i have a theory that nazz is like a big sister figure to her and she subconsciously picks up stuff that nazz does because she admires her so much (or nazz gives her stuff/shops with her! i like that better) for example the bangle bracelets, chokers, dark denim, choppy bangs yk. in my head sarah is always wearing chucks and she ofc has her big a$$ mouth. i think she gets braces too

jimmy: crack design bc i got tired but he gets that white boy fade and his ears pierced, skinny jeans and big hoodie, birkenstock boston clogs, probably wears his shirts fitted and cut just above his waist cuz he's a lil slimey like that. lost the headgear but still has braces and an expanded, maybe also got some sort of jaw surgery for his teeth cuz they were fawked

[the-vast-corner-of-the-galaxy]

KW 2024- Day 6: Jealousy

Day 6 of Kataang Week 2024 even though it's being posted two days late. (Event hosted by @kataang-week )

Prompt: Jealousy, Saturday, August 3rd

Word Count: 1.5 K

Rating: General Audiences (except for the mention of alcohol I guess)

Summary: Aang is not the best at containing his jealousy, especially around his employer.

This is the continuation of my Modern AU in Day 2 where Katara is a singer and Aang is her bodyguard.

It has been 5 months since Aang has been working as Katara's bodyguard, and he has been doing an exceptional job at it. Katara has started trusting him way more, and they developed a friendship. They would talk in their spare time about almost anything, and sometimes, their conversations would extend their designated time.

Today was the premiere of Katara’s new music album, and there was going to be a party with many people. It was going to be exciting, and it was going to be a very extravagant party.

Parties were not Katara’s favorite activity, but she liked celebrations once in a while, especially when they celebrated an important event or accomplishment. She was very excited for tonight, and couldn't wait for her guests to listen to the album.

“Sokka, have you seen my silver heels?” Katara asked her brother from her bedroom, who was in the halls.

“I haven't!” yelled Sokka from the halls. “Why?”

“I think we left them in one of the costume bags, which was near your room.” replied Katara.

“I'll look for them!” Sokka yelled. Katara kept getting ready and carefully did her makeup. She was looking stunning tonight, and wore a beautiful, short turquoise dress that had beautiful, sown Water Tribe embroidery. Her earrings were these silver fish that resembled the ying and yang, and her hair was up in a ponytail and adorned with Water Tribe beads.

“Hey Katara-” Aang came in, and became stunned with how beautiful Katara looked. Her eyes seemed to shine brightly with the tuquoise dress, like the stars in the sky.

“Aang!” Katara greeted happily. “Do you need something?”

“Sokka told me to tell you that we have to leave in ten minutes,” Aang said, trying to conceal his blushing.

“I’ll be ready soon,” Katara replied. Aang nodded and headed downstairs, trying to quiet his beating heart.

When Aang got there, Toph was waiting at the door with the rest of the bodyguards, and seemed to be glaring at him.

“Aang, I may be blind, but I can sense the way you feel around Katara,” Toph said from the corner. Aang almost jumped in surprise and tried to find an excuse to escape the interrogation, but because Toph was quick and had enhanced senses, there was no way out of this.

“What do you mean, Toph?” Aang asked, trying to sound innocent.

“You clearly like Katara, Aang, and it’s way too obvious,” Toph replied. “Your voice always shifts with her, and you talk to her more delicately and softer than to the rest of us. Katara is a great person, and you don’t seem bad yourself, but I will warn you: you must be very, very careful.”

“I… I will,” said Aang, feeling slightly pressured and uneased with her comments. Just then, Katara came downstairs along with Sokka, both ready for the party. They all left the house and headed to the salon where the party would be hosted.

The room’s flashing lights shone brightly in the darkness and eeriness of the place, giving it a cosmic appeal. The loud music seemde to vibrate everywhere and was loud enough to make everyone deaf. People were dancing frantically and drank obscene amounts of alcohol. Three quarters of the party had passed, and although most of the room wasn’t sober, they were having a blast.

Due to his job, Aang did not drink a single drop of alcohol, and only sticked to drinking water. Toph and the rest of the security team were also sober, and only observed alertly to see if they had to interfere. So far, there was nothing too concerning that needed the intervention of powerful bodyguards. Aang observed the whole room and tried to capture the details of people’s behavior: Some were dancing, some people were making out, others drinking, and a few talking to each other.

Aang mainly observed Katara dancing happily in the dance floor. She did not drink a lot, but was slightly tipsy. She danced with a few people Aang never saw before, and assumed that they were probably her friends. He really wanted to dance with her, but he couldn’t since he had to keep an eye on her.

Just a few minutes later, Aang saw a tan man with straight long hair that was dancing quite closely to Katara. He had his hands on her waist, and in that moment, Aang felt a new, raging feeling rising in his body. He wanted to be in that man’s place, placing his hands on the singer’s waist and moving her hips slowly to the rhythm of the dance, leaning close to her face. He wanted to be the one staring at her dreamy blue eyes and making her smile as the loud music echoed around them.

“Aang!” Katara began approaching with the man she was dancing with. “This is my friend Haru! Haru, meet Aang, my bodyguard.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you!” Haru greeted, extending his hand to shake Aang’s hand. The young bodyguard shook it, but still feeling a tinge of jealousy in his body.

“Katara, I am going to get some drinks for us. I’ll be back!” Haru whispered in Katara’s ear, leaving her and Aang alone.

“Is Haru your boyfriend?” Aang asked very imprudently.

“What? No!” Katara laughed. “He’s just a friend! We met in the Earth Kingdom years ago, when I was starting to write music, but he is like a brother to me.”

“Oh, how interesting,” Aang replied, sounding more jealous than he wanted to. “Is Zuko your boyfriend?”

“Zuko?” Katara exclaimed. “He is absolutely not my type! Plus, he is way too busy for being in a relationship since he is the PRESIDENT of an entire nation. Why? Are you jealous?”

Aang desperately tried to find a way to conceal his jealousy, but knowing what position he was in, it was impossible. “Jealous? No!” he lied. “I was just just curious why you’re always surrounded by… other guys?”

Katara stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. “What’s that supposed to mean, Aang? Are you implying something?”

“I’m implying that it’s frustrating to see you with other guys when—” Aang stopped himself, his emotions boiling over. “When I… I care about you more than just a employee, more than just a friend!”

Katara’s eyes widened, and she took a step back. “Aang, you can’t just drop something like that on me out of nowhere!”

“Well, what do you expect me to do, Katara?” Aang shot back, his voice trembling. “Stand by and watch while you dance with other guys, wishing I could be the one holding you?”

Katara’s face softened, but her voice was still tense. “Aang, I didn’t know you felt this way. You never said anything!”

“I didn’t say anything because I work for you, and because I was scared, alright?” Aang admitted, his voice cracking. “Scared that you didn’t feel the same way; scared that I’d lose you.”

Katara’s expression softened further as she stepped closer again, her anger melting away. “Aang, I… I didn’t realize you were feeling this way, but you need to know, you mean more to me than anyone else. You’ve always been there for me whenever I needed it most.”

Aang looked into her eyes, his heart pounding. “Katara, I… I don’t want to be just your bodyguard. I want to be the one you turn to.”

Katara’s eyes were glistening with tears as she cupped Aang’s face in her hands, knowing that this was a bad idea. She didn't speak, but the way she looked at him said everything. Aang slowly leaned in, his heart racing. “Katara…” The young singer could feel Aang’s breath mingling with hers, and their lips were at a minimal distance.

Before he could finish, Katara closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to his. “Gosh, she tasted so good,” thought Aang in his head, savoring the taste of liquor and lipstick in her mouth. He wrapped his strong arms around Katara’s waist, pulling her closer, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed her body to his. The kiss began to intensify, and Katara nudged Aang’s tongue so she could access his mouth. The young bodyguard happily consented and let Katara access. He sneaked his tongue into her mouth and passionately caressed her lips with his, making the kisses even more intense and powerful. The world around them seemed to disappear as they kept kissing even more ardently.

When they finally pulled apart, they were both completely breathless, their foreheads touching. Katara then quickly let go of Aang’s grasp and looked completely petrified, knowing that what she just did was probably a bad idea.

“I have to go,” Katara said in a robotic, paralyzed voice. She quickly left and headed in an opposite direction, leaving Aang completely stunned and turned on. He could not believe what just happened. Everything escalated too quickly, quicker than he expected to.

Now, what was going to happen? Will Katara fire him? Will they forget all of this happened and just keep a professional relationship? What now?

What now?

[bleeding-hart]

visuals for the marauders

putting this here so I have a reference later when I'm actually writing and posting the fanfic (rn I just have a good chunk plotted out and some scenes in my brain). Also including their pronouns so it makes a little more sense. For their clothing, it's just their choices when they don't have to wear the school uniform (I hate the uniform deeply imo no one looks as hot in robes). I am taking artistic license with their designs bc I can make them look better than their canon designs do easily. If I said something contradicting these earlier, ignore it, I've got shit memory and adhd.

Sirius (he/they/she): long hair, one of those really queer nonbinary bun type things? She wears half goth half casual punk clothing stuff (like fishnet shirts under sleeveless black hoodies/ corsets with leather band jackets, etc. Definitely a spikey black boots/spiked collar type person). Decently pale skin and really dark blueish eyes, like the night sky right before it fades to black or the sea during a thunderstorm. They do their own piercings which has given them more than one infection, but he does have some successful ones (nose bridge, eyebrow, lots of ear stuff, and snakebites). Remus will insist to do it for them if he knows that she has a new idea, and he's significantly safer about them.

Remus (he/they? He/him? Somewhat cis but has a complicated relationship with gender): short golden brown hair that's in a barely noticeably mullet style. Nostril piercing (Sirius said it would look good on him so he did it). Warm-toned light brown skin with a lot of freckles that you generally can't see, dark amber eyes. Dresses for comfort over style, which usually means t-shirts, sweatpants and beat up old sneakers. Their only very noticeable scar on their face is one over their lips and chin. They have more, but the others are more skin toned.

Peter (he/they, sometimes it): generally very cute, light skin with some freckles and messy wavy blonde hair, pale sky blue eyes. Sirius is trying to convince him to let them give him snakebites but he's very on the fence about it (he barely even wears makeup so he isn't the most adventurous about that stuff). Thick/long lashes. Tends to wear muted neutral colors. The only jewelery that he's consistent about is a leather bracelet he always has on his left wrist. Tries to not be visually noticeable, tends to hang around the back of the friend group and let the others get all the attention.

James (he/him probably): longer curly/wavy dark brown queer mullet (tboy energy) and warm brown skin. Dark golden toned brown eyes. People tend to think he and Remus are cousins or something which he thinks is really funny (he's definitely turned around and started making out with him for as a bit when someone asks them if they're related). Usually wears brown dyed or bleached jeans and reddish-brown/brown/green-brown/yellow t shirts and tops for the cohesive and effortless energy. Paints his nails bright colors whenever he can as a contrast to Sirius's chronically flaking black nail polish. Has his lobes pierced but usually just wears gold studs. Wears gold bands around his biceps so he can flex when he wins a quiddich (<- I did not check how to spell that, you know what I mean) match

Regulus (he/him): he prefers to wear more formal clothing because that's what he was raised doing and the layers help him cover up any raised areas on his binder, but when that isn't an option/he's too depressed to do anything fancy, he wears black hoodies that are significantly too large for him (barty or evan's usually). Makeup tends to give hm dysphoria, but he always fills in his eyebrows and he'll put eyeliner on his waterline when he's going to an actual event. He pierced his tongue as an act of rebellion when he was younger and now he just fidgets with it a lot, other than that he just has his lobes done (he got them as a newborn) and he always leaves them empty in hopes that they'll seal up.

I know what the others look like but this is long enough as is haha

[rintarousgirl]

i wanna be yours -- 11. baby, i'm yours

✦ - Y/N is a small business owner, offering her services not only as a designer but an at-home makeup artist and cosmetic producer as well. She's perfectly content with her small life when she's approached by the manager of the INARIZAKI band, asking for her to fill the position of backstage artist on short notice. Needing the money, and wanting the experience, Y/N agrees. Little does she know of the fatal attraction she will share with the band's lead, Suna Rintarou.

a/n: making this series was so amazing. i got so much support throughout, and i've always wanted it to be the absolute best for all of you. i hope this is a satisfying ending in your eyes, even if it isn't in mine. i apologize for the hectic uploading schedule. i've been overestimating just how much i can do and recently had to drop a day in my schedule because i was just getting so sick and run down all the time. tysm to everyone who stuck around, i love every single person who takes the time to read my silly little internet stories.

-

The hallway is quiet, save for the rolling carts of a few hotel maids. Kita had rented out the whole floor, seeing as we had two weekend shows at different locations in the same vicinity.

Your room had been on the far end, Kira’s next to it, and then the rest of the band. It’d been his idea, supposedly, but you’re sure the far proximity had something to do with Rintarou’s room down the hall.

You make your way down the hall, planting your feet right outside his room. You raise your hand to knock when your heart gives one particularly harsh beat in your chest that shocks through your core like lightning.

Fear.

What if he left you because he was bored? What if he lied? Maybe it wasn’t because he thought he was ruining your friendships, maybe he just wanted someone else.

Your stomach churns uneasily, rolling back into your gut like a tide before a tsunami.

You were stupid, so so stupid for all of this.

Your hand falls to your side, but you can’t seem to move your feet. They’re weights, stuck to your legs, keeping you grounded.

Flightless, trying to force you to accept the fears you’ve been mulling over for a month. All the running and avoiding. The hoops you jumped through so you could do his makeup and be done with him entirely. Out of blind anger, hatred, and pure unadulterated love.

You loved Suna Rintarou, and clearly he loved you it he was willing to let you go for your own happiness. And at the same time he was so unbelievably foolish.

You turn on your heel, and head back down the hall. In your pocket, your phone dings with another text from Tetsuroo.

You pull it out, halfway back down the hall, and read it.

“tell me how it goes!”

He was waiting on a response.

Your blood turned to steel in your veins. You weren’t gonna be a coward about this. No. Not when it’s about something this important.

You march back down the hall, right outside Rintarous door, and give three quick knocks. As soon as it sounds out, your hand falls to your side and you’re taking in deep breaths.

There’s a bit of shuffling on the other side, and the soft patter of footsteps, before the door swings open.

There stands Rintarou in all his glory.

Sleepy eyes look at you, blinking as if he couldn’t tell if he was dreaming or not. His pajamas hang loosely on his frame, and his hair is messed up but he still manages to stay so beautiful.

You cant help it.

“I love you,” you blurt out.

His lips part into a soft round ‘O’, and he still can’t quite seem to tell if he’s dreaming.

In a moment of delayed confidence, you lean forward and press your lips to his. He tastes of mint toothpaste and smells of shampoo. Exactly how you remember. Your hands reach up into his hair, curling in brunette locks as he smiles against your lips.

You pull back, cheeks flushed and giggling, “we still need to talk,” you declare, but his hand is on your waist and he’s leading you inside.

“Of course,” he says, pulling out a chair for you to sit in. You sit down as he pulls up another own for himself, looking all too comfortable in his pajamas.

You sit in silence for a second, taking in each others appearance. He must notice the way your eyebags had darkened or your skin had gotten paler. Just like how you’ve noticed how much more tired he’s been and how strained his voice has become.

“What happened?” you asked softly, looking down in your lap, “Between us, I mean…it couldn’t have just been Akaashi.”

He looks at his own lap, more so with an expression of shame. His hair hangs in front of his beautiful eyes. You want nothing more than to kiss him once again and sweep him tight into your arms.

“I didn’t want to see you upset,” he whispers weakly, “It killed me to see you so stressed, especially with me at the root of it. I thought if I left, maybe you’d be able to make up with your friend. I never meant to hurt you.”

His tone is genuine, and his eyes shine with sincerity as he looks at you. No hints of secrecy, or anything. Just admiration and regret.

“You’re so stupid,” you laugh, “both of you. I cant believe… how could have you even come to that conclusion?”

And despite it all, you’re still so unbelievably in love with him and all he stands for. All he’s done. Proud of his accomplishments, grateful for how well he treats you.

You rise from your seat, and walk in front of him. His hands come to rest on the backs of your thighs as you cup his cheeks in your hands.

“Can you forgive me?” he asks, a little cheekily, a small smile growing big on his lips.

You pretend to ponder for a moment, before sealing your decision with a sweet kiss.

<- previous | masterlist

★ - akaashi ditched the way he normally texted when apologizing

★ - after akaashi's apology, there is a one month time skip

★ - suna and akaashi never truly made up and became friends, but they're on even terms now

★ - y/n and kiyoko do end up meeting in the future, but y/n doesn't even recognize her until she says her name

★ - suna and y/n live happily ever after the end!!! LMAO

✦ - Y/N is a small business owner, offering her services not only as a designer but an at-home makeup artist and cosmetic producer as well. She's perfectly content with her small life when she's approached by the manager of the INARIZAKI band, asking for her to fill the position of backstage artist on short notice. Needing the money, and wanting the experience, Y/N agrees. Little does she know of the fatal attraction she will share with the band's lead, Suna Rintarou

taglist:

@mannaornot \ @gojoscumslut \ @sunarots \ @alienvarmint \ @tojirin \ @tkooooop \ @cheriesdear \ @shotenvinsoot \ @wolffmaiden \ @riiceandsoup \ @thebrownemo \ @vivian-555 \ @effmigentlywithachainsaw \ @rukia-uchiha-98 \ @weird0o0 \ @seiamor \ @rory-cakes \ @blue-violin \ @reveusecherie \ @hellokittylover9 \ @yourlocal-bunny \ @keniza \ @cerberuspuppy1 \ @baramii \ @kirbyscreeper \ @rioiio \ @noideawhothatis \ @ris-krispie \ @noideawhothatis \ @venusinx \ @arminseas \ @iluv-ace

[orgasming-caterpillar]

DOYH Chapter 20 

Ranveer's POV 

Ranveer was going to be sick. What the fuck had this day been? Not only had he surprised himself with his lack of restraint, it hadn't even earned the satisfaction from Raghav that he had expected. 

He couldn't believe he wanted to confess today.

He couldn't bring himself to do it the entire day, thumb frozen just centimeters away from the dial button. He couldn't do it in the car, when Raghav himself was mere inches away from him. He couldn't do it after beating someone up for Raghav. And now they were backstage in the auditorium and a dozen hands were on him adjusting his hair, his makeup, his clothes, and he thought— might as well go through with the competition first. 

It had all happened too fast. One moment, Raghav's hand was on his thigh, he was nipping at his bottom lip as he tried to concentrate on the road. He thought Raghav might want to talk, sort some shit out but the exact moment he opened his mouth to speak a person threw themselves in front of the car. 

The moment Ayush slammed his fist on the car window Ranveer's vision went red. He didn't remember getting out of the car, didn't remember beating Ayush up, but he did remember that when he told Raghav how long he had wished to do that, Raghav didn't smile. 

Nor was Raghav smiling now, as he stood behind Ranveer waiting for him to get his hair done. 

Ranveer tried not to look at him. Lord knows what would happen if he let his gaze linger a bit too long. Raghav was wearing a silk maroon top of the same design as Ranveer's kurta, with a neckline stooping too low on his chest to leave any coherent thoughts in Ranveer's head. 

Raghav walked out of the room to peek at the stage, and Ranveer followed soon after. 

Lights were off. Tension was high. And only one man in the spotlight was speaking over the audience's polite claps. 

Ranveer's heart shuddered in his chest as he realized who the man was. 

He still looked the same as ever, though better groomed. There was a gray streak in his black hair that Ranveer didn't remember being there. His posture was the same, and so was his voice. 

Laxman Bhargav. One of the judges for the competition, and Ranveer's father.

There was a distant hum building inside him, growing louder with each clap from the audience, with each syllable coming out of his estranged father's mouth. It came to a point Ranveer couldn't hear anything besides the hum. And in the silence, in his chest, a pressure made its presence known like some vengeful ghost. It filled his chest, filled his eyes and filled his world, making it difficult to breathe or see. 

How could he have not expected this? Of course the college was going to invite a world known dancer for the competition, they did so every year. 

He wanted to march over and make his fists sing. He wanted to run away and be done with this awful day. He wanted to scream at his father. He wanted to cry to his mother. He wanted to hide his sister. He wanted to do all of this at once, and restraining those urges was making him shake, concerning everybody in the backstage. 

He could feel people eyeing him strangely. Fuck that. He couldn't give less of a shit. The thought of dancing in front of that monster made him queasy. 

So he won't. 

•••

“You have to!”

Raghav was banging on the door. Relentlessly. 

For fuck’s sake. Let him breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

In. Out. In. Out. In. IN. IN. IN.

He couldn't.

“DARWAZA KHOL RANVEER!”

As he did, a very rattled Raghav took him in and started a new chant of curses. He wanted to say he’s not helping, but he was too busy trying to get air in his lungs.

“Okay, shit fuck what do i do what do i do you’re clearly having a panic attack.” He looked around the cramped changing room. “Okay shit listen,” he took Ranveer by his shoulders and got into his face, “you know that grounding technique where you use your senses? We’re going to do that. Tell me the five things you can see right now.” He wanted to snap at him that he can barely discern one leg from another but he focused on Raghav’s face, then his own reflection in the full length mirror, warm coloured and textured tiles on the floor, door of the stalls and the toilets insides. “Okay good, now four things you can feel.” Raghav’s hands on his shoulders, cold floor, wall on his back, Raghav’s breath on his face. “Done? Three sounds you can hear.” Raghav’s voice, his own heart beating out of his chest, and the sickly sweet voice of his own father. 

His father was here. 

Raghav's voice was getting distant. He could no longer hear it over the beating of his own heart. 

"RANVEER!" 

His vision swam. He let Raghav pull him into a chair. His temples throbbed with pain every time he thought of his father's sickly sweet voice. 

Raghav cupped his face, making him look up into his pleading brown eyes. "What happened!?"

Ranveer swatted his hands away. His words were a sneer, "That's my fucking father, Raghav. Laxman Bhargav is my father."

Even saying the name had shame crawling in his gut. This was why his father had wanted to speak to him. He must have seen Ranveer's name in the contestants' profile. He-

His thoughts were interrupted by Raghav's hands on the back of his head, pulling him in. Before he knew it, the side of his face was pressed against the bare skin of Raghav's chest. The comforting weight of Raghav's hand was on his back and on the back of his head. 

When he inhaled, he could smell the soft floral scent of Raghav's perfume, the freshly washed fabric of his top and beneath it, a warmth that was simply Raghav. Ranveer closed his eyes.

His panic seemed muted as he placed his hands on Raghav's sides, like the memory of hunger after you're full. Then why was his heart still racing? Or rather, was it the rampant beating of his own heart that was howling in his ears or was it Raghav's? 

Dimly, he registered that this was very possibly the closest he would ever get to having Raghav in his arms.

"I'm sorry, Raghav."

A knock on the door snapped them both out of their daze.

Ranveer quickly stood up and began fixing his hair in the mirror. He couldn't bring himself to meet Raghav's gaze, even in the mirror. It didn't help that Raghav was staring at Ranveer's reflection so intently.

"Sorry for what?"

"Nothing," Ranveer replied a moment too soon. 

"Ranveer." The chill in his voice sent a tremor through Ranveer's limbs. "What were you going to say?"

"Nothing, you should probably get the door-"

"You know who's at the door. They're calling us outside. What were you going to say?"

Ranveer turned around, a dark indifference in his eyes that marked the absence of whatever affection Raghav thought might have been in the air. "Open the door, Raghav. It's our performance."

Raghav was rooted in his place. His chest heaved with shallow breaths, his expression was a hundred different emotions. "Will you dance?" was all he asked. Though Ranveer wondered there were many other questions he wanted the answers to.

"Yes," he answered, to all of them. 

[3mcwriting]

Regret, Part 2: Moving On

Regret Masterlist

Warnings: Language, references to sex, alcohol consumption

Synopsis: Your boyfriend, Steve Rogers, the lead singer of the internationally famous band "The Avengers" was a fan-favorite. From his chiseled muscles to his movie-star smile to his old-fashioned manners, everyone loved him. But you were okay with that. Because he would never cheat on you. Right? Well...

~~

"Come on girl, get up," Nat said, hitting you with a pillow. "We're going out tonight and I'll drag you out of here by your ankles if I have to."

You groaned, turning over and staring at the ceiling. "Whyyyy?"

"Because you've been sulking for 2 months, you need a fun night to party and get over that asshole," she announces, planting her hands on her hips. "Plus you haven't even gone to work and I've used up all of my self-control to not beat up that dick and that she-demon."

"I think I'm aloud to sulk after finding out my boyfriend of 3 years cheated on me with a woman I thought was my friend," you pointed out. "Besides, I'm still getting al my work done. It's just...remotely getting it done- Which, can you blame me? I see both of them at work."

Her eyes softened. "Honey, I know. But I think going out and just letting loose for a night will be good for you. Plus, who knows? You might just meet a hot person who all you want is for them to-"

You threw a pillow at her, effectively cutting off whatever innuendo she was about to say.

She smiled. "So...does that means you're going?"

"I don't have much of a choice, now do I?" you asked, already knowing the answer.

"Nope." Nat said, popping the 'p'.

"Ugh, I don't like you sometimes," you muttered, finally getting off of your ruffled bed.

"Nah, you know you love me," she said with a wink.

You threw another pillow at her.

•••••

Two hours later and you had finally found an outfit Nat deemed acceptable. It was simple, comfortable, but still suitable enough for a club. You let her do your makeup, knowing that her deft hands were much better than yours.

You groaned "Why did I agree to this?"

"You didn't have much of a choice," Natasha said, checking her phone. "Ok, now, come on. We're going."

When the two of you arrived you quickly got out of the Uber and looked at the hulking structure in front of you. Nat pulled you inside, immediately heading to the bar. You sat down on one of the stools, your best friend ordering two shots of straight vodka.

"Cheers," you told her, quickly downing the drink in the hope it would make the night slightly more bearable. You winced, the liquid burning as it slid down your throat. You tried to relax, to just focus on the music.

You turned to Nat.

"Wanna dance?" She asked, downing another shot and dragging you to your feet.

"I have a feeling this is another thing I don't have a choice in," you said, voice barely discernible as you began walking with her onto the dance floor.

"Your feeling is right!" Nat yelled as she began dancing. You closed your eyes, moving along to the music.

"I'm gonna grab us some more drinks!" you yelled over the crowd.

You were pretty sure she hadn't heard you, too focused on the gorgeous woman who had begun dancing with her. As the woman got closer and closer to Nat and you saw her wrap her arms around the other woman's neck, you grinned.

At least one of you was having fun, you thought as you nursed the glass of soda in your hands.

"I'll take a whiskey on the rocks," a tall man with bleached hair and gorgeous silver-blue eyes told the bartender, a faint accent detectable. "And what would you like, love?"

"No thanks," you told him, slightly surprised he was talking to you. "I got my drink."

"Gin and tonic?" he asked.

"Just soda."

"Just soda?" he questioned, a smirk on his face. "You're at a club and you got plain soda?"

"Well, I gotta take care of my friend," you explained, sipping at your drink.

"Ah, designated driver?" He slid onto the stool beside you, propping his face on his palm as he looked at you curiously.

"Kinda," you told him, shrugging a little.

Normally Nat got too wasted for you to let her get herself home and she didn't like waking up in strangers beds. Plus, it wasn't exactly safe to be by yourself as an inebriated woman trying to get home. So normally around 2, you'd drag her out of the club and she'd eat all your ice cream then pass out on your couch.

"So, you can't drink, but how about a dance?" Accented voice like honey.

"Why not?" you said, standing up with him.

He grabbed your hand, gently pulling you to the dance floor. "So...what's your name, gorgeous?" He put his hands on your hips as you moved along to the beat of the music.

"No names, that's too serious," you told him, memories popping up that you hurriedly pushed to the back of your mind. You just wanted to get lost in the moment.

"Names are too serious?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Yup."

You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his body moving so close to your own. His arms slid further around your waist but never going too far south as he pulled you almost flat against him, both of you still dancing. With the newfound closeness, every little sway or bump was felt by the both of you.

"Well, is dancing like this too serious?" You shivered at his low voice whispering into your ear, your breath hitching as soft lips brushed your neck when his head dipped down.

"Dancing is all fun."

Your voice was a lot more breathless than you'd like to admit.

"And your name?"

"Giving you my name gives you trust, however little. And my trust seems to be in short supply recently." You let out a laugh, the noise harsh.

"Well, whoever cheated on you is a damned idiot," he declared, a soft kiss brushing your cheek.

"How did you know?"

"A beautiful woman sitting at the bar in a club, sipping a coke while watching her friend have the time of her life. An incredibly handsome man approaches said woman asking for her name and receives a response of, 'no names, that's too serious.'" He raised an eyebrow at you. "Then proceeds to say that her trust is in short supply. An asshole did you wrong and I have no problem with giving you a good time." His voice was firm, a promise held in those words.

Before you could realize what was happening, he was fluidly spinning you to face him and dipping his head down to capture your lips with his.

Your eyes shut as you wound your arms around his neck, gently tugging at the soft hair at his nape as he deepened the kiss. As you moved your lips against his silky ones, you could taste the whiskey on him as his tongue slid into your parted lips. You tugged at his hair a little harder than you meant to, causing a low groan to rumble from him.

The moment shattered as a loud crash rang out along with a yell from a familiar voice.

"All of you asshole in the crowd who are cheaters better watch out or I'm gonna beat your ass!"

Your eyes snapped open, quickly stepping away from the man as you searched for your friend. Not searching long, you found her standing on the bar throwing her heels at the security guards who were rushing to pull her down.

Well shit.

"I gotta go," you told the man, rushing to your friend.

"Come on, Tasha, let's go home," you said, gently easing her off the bar.

"Yay! Ice cream! But first we gotta beat all those fuckeeeers and then we get ice cream."

"Sorry Nat, no beating the fuckers tonight," you told her, a pout appearing on her face.

•••••

"Ugh, I should've just called in sick today, my head feels like shit." Natasha groaned as the two of you walked out of the elevator. "

"Uh uh, there's no way in hell I'm facing them for the first time since the breakup without my best friend," you told her, dragging her along with you as you walked to the auditions room where two new people were trying out for the band.

"You seem a lot better than I thought- Wait, did you sleep with someone last night?!" Natasha asked loudly, making you shush her quickly when several sets of eyes turned to the two of you.

"No, I did not sleep with anyone last night-" you hesitated, "-just your idea to go to the club wasn't as bad as I thought."

"So you did sleep with someone!"

"Would you shut up a bit, Nat?" Your eyes darted around, very aware of the other people who could hear the conversation. "I didn't sleep with a man...I just had a really good kiss."

"Ooh, a really good kiss?" Her eyes glinted. "What's he look like?"

"He looks like..,"

"Hey! Don't stop! Tell me what this mystery man looks like."

"Turn around and you'll see," you told her as your eyes met a set of silver blue ones.

[personasdestinyy]

Sorrowful Love | Ch#2 | JJK

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; All he desires is vengeance.

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: thriller, angst, love at first sight, au! sexting

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x Sena oc!

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: This story contains explicit language, graphic violence(murders, blood etc), and other mature content, If you are easily affected by such themes, it might be best to avoid reading it.

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 0.9k+

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭⇢

Sena's Pov:

The sound of my alarm clock rudely interrupts my peaceful slumber, signaling the start of another dreadful Monday. Reluctantly, I drag myself out of bed, my hair in disarray, and I force myself to sit up. With a groggy mind, my first instinct is to silence the annoying alarm. Once the noise is finally gone, I slip on my slippers and make my way to the bathroom.

As I approach the bathroom door, a sudden shadow catches my eye, sending a jolt of fear through my body. For a split second, I feel as if my soul is about to escape my trembling form. But soon enough, I realize that the shadow is none other than my own reflection.

"Fuck me," I curse myself, closing the door behind me with a frustrated kick.

After a refreshing shower, I stand in front of my wardrobe, towel wrapped around me, contemplating what to wear for the day. My fashion sense has always been lacking.

And I can't help but mutter under my breath, "I don't think I'm good at anything." After creating a chaotic mess, I settle on a white top, baggy blue jeans, and white joggers. Once dressed, I quickly brush my hair and apply some makeup.

With my morning routine complete, I head to the kitchen to prepare a simple breakfast of apple juice and a sandwich. As I leisurely eat, I grab my phone from the kitchen counter and my eyes widen as I glance at the time. Hastily finishing my meal, I grab my camera from the closet and my car keys from the bedroom drawer before rushing out of my apartment to make it to work on time.

My name is Sena, as all of you know, the slacker person in the whole world. I work as a photographer at Mg company.

Photography started as a mere hobby when I was 16, but it was my friend Mai who discovered my talent at the age of 18.

Unfortunately.

She couldn't keep it to herself and showed my photos to her father, who offered me a job at his company. I started working there at the age of 20, and it's been eight months since I've been working there.

And so, this is my life. Busy.

After a long and tiring day at work, I finally make it back to my apartment, feeling completely drained. I walk through the door and immediately place my camera and car key in their designated spots before making a beeline for the bathroom to freshen up.

Once I've changed into more comfortable clothes, I make my way to the bedroom and retrieve my phone from my bag. As I settle into the soft and inviting bed, a notification suddenly appears, causing my heart to skip a beat. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I quickly glance at the notification.

To my surprise, it's a message from my brother, someone I haven't heard from in ages. Without wasting a second, I swipe the notification away without even reading the contents of the message. My mind is too preoccupied with other thoughts to fully process what he might have said.

Leaving my phone on the bed, I head to the kitchen to quench my thirst with a glass of water. Taking a deep breath, I try to let go of all the emotions that have built up throughout the day, allowing the cool water to help calm my racing heartbeat. Once I feel more composed, I return to the bedroom, retrieve my phone from the nightstand, and settle back onto the comfortable bed.

As I mindlessly scroll through Instagram for past forty minutes, an art page catches my eye. Intrigued, I decide to read the artist's biography, which turns out to be incredibly fascinating. His work is centered around capturing the emotions of others, which instantly captivates me. Without hesitation, I jot down the contact number provided on Instagram and dial it.

After two rings, a sleepy voice answers the phone with a simple "hello."

Trying to sound composed.

"Um hi, I want to place an order-", I quickly state. However, before I can finish my sentence, the person on the other end abruptly ends the call, leaving me bewildered. I stare at my phone screen, unsure of what just happened. "Well, that was strange," I mutter to myself.

Five minutes later, my phone rings again, and I answer, fully prepared to confront the person about their odd behavior.

But he was quick to speak up,

"I am sorry, my friend posted my number on Instagram without my knowledge. When you called, I was asleep and confused, so I ended the call abruptly. I'm so sorry for my odd behavior."

Taking in his explanation, and understanding that it was an honest mistake, I didn't dwell on the inconvenience caused by the untimely call.

"You don't have to be sorry, it's alright." I reassured him.

"And I'll give you his number, but please reach out to him after a week," the man on the other end of the line informed me before we bid farewell and ended the call.

In just a minute, he sends me a number labeled 'Jungkook'. As I glance at it, my heart inexplicably quickens its pace. Uncertain of the reason behind this reaction, I attempt to dismiss the feeling and store his contact details.

Feeling overwhelmed, I decide to let go of all my feelings and simply focus on getting some rest. The weight of the world seems to lift off my shoulders as I release all my worries and anxieties into the universe. Placing my phone down on the table, I take a deep breath and allow myself to drift off into the world of dreams. The soft hum of the air coming from windows lulls me into a peaceful slumber.

© 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲𝐲 (𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝)