#OH PAST KIWI

[serotoninisheldinkiwis]

THE RETURN

VERY VAGUE SPOILERS FOR TF:ONE BELOW THE CUT AND IN THE TAGS

so if yall remember this post from April after i analyzed the trailer

OH YEAH BUDDY ITS ONLY GETTING BETTER

[crabussy]

hi gang. updated my blog title because I keep getting mistaken for australian or british over and over and over again and this cannot continue. save me

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Looking in the fridge to see that I have at least 6 different little drinks

[calico-kiwi]

i’m experiencing jet lag without actually traveling anywhere

[gothcsz]

El Cumpleañero | Javier Peña x F!Reader | ~8.3k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: It's Javier's birthday, so you show up to his party and things get fun.

Tags: friends with benefits dynamic, jealous!javi (can't help myself), flirting, dancing, javi is a little ooc here but idgaf i need him (in my head he's a bit younger in this au), some untranslated spanish, smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), back shots for days, a lil bit of exhibitionism on javi's part, creampie, one use of a degrading term (slut), some dirty talk, pussy pronouns, facial, no use of y/n, reader is afab and able-bodied, little to no physical descriptions of reader, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay, thanks!

A/N: hiiii everyone! this is my humble submission to @yxtkiwiyxt's never have i ever challenge with my prompt being never have i ever woken someone else because i was too loud during sex 🙈 kiwi bb tysm for hosting such a lovely writing challenge for us, i hope you enjoy this smutty fic! oh, and i am dedicating this one to @letsmeetintheafterglow, amorcito, you left such me a juicy request in my inbox for javi that i just had to write! so, i merged it with the challenge prompt 🖤 hope you dream of him tambien ☁️ also, i couldn't help but project my fantasy of wanting to dance to corrido/banda music with javier. i feel like he's actually a pretty good dancer! swinging ya around to the beat of the song with his hand at your lower back and a modelo in the other. ugh. the song la niña fresa basically inspired the nickname javi calls reader 🍓 and just sets the vibes, i think. as always, let me know that you think and thank you for reading 🖤

The backyard is buzzing with the chatter and laughter of what feels like half the town, the smoky scent of barbecue wafting through the air and the twang of a corrido blasting from oversized speakers, making the ground shake.

You walk through the fenced yard, the southern breeze grazing your skin as familiar faces nod or wave in passing. Your eyes scan the crowd, skimming past clusters of people dancing and conversing, all of them gathered to celebrate someone who swore he didn’t want a fuss.

Of course his family didn’t listen. They turned his “keep it small” request into a blowout, like they always do, inviting anyone and everyone. Not that he could stay mad—he never really does.

When you spot the man of the hour, the corner of your lips lift instinctively and your feet seem to move on their own accord, pulling you toward him.

He’s by the bonfire, the glow of the flames painting his chiseled features in shades of gold and shadow. He stands with his hip jutting out, a cigarette balanced between his fingers, sharing it lazily with two girls you barely recognize.

They hang on to his every little move, trying to soak up whatever attention he might spare. It’s a scene you’ve witnessed too many times, and you really can’t blame them.

You’ve been in their shoes (still are, truth be told), waiting for even a flicker of his focus to land on you, and you know all too well where that desperation led.

To his bed, on his tongue, his cock—you shiver at the memory, your nipples pulling taut.

He’s the kind of man who doesn’t have to try to make hearts ache; it’s just who he is.

A walking daydream wrapped in leather and indifference, with that devil-may-care grin that promises trouble and delivers every time.

You roll your eyes and huff sassily, detouring toward one of the coolers instead. You grab a drink, making polite small talk with a couple of acquaintances, though you can’t keep your gaze from wandering back to him.

He’s already looking at you.

It stops you mid-sentence the way his brown eyes are fixed on you, heavy with intention.

The cigarette is at his lips, the faint glow of its cherry pulses when he sucks in then lets out a ribbon of smoke. 

He makes it look so damn hot, it’s almost enough to persuade you into picking up the bad habit.

The curly haired beauty next to him is chattering a mile a minute, but it’s clear he isn’t listening.

His focus remains locked on you, sweeping slowly—mischievously—down the length of your body. You can feel it, as sure as a touch, lingering at the deep neckline of your sweater then on the way your jeans hug your curves. It’s shameless, but that’s him, isn’t it?

Your smile tilts into a puckish smirk. Lifting your hand, you wiggle your fingers in a small wave.

It’s like striking a match. His gaze narrows slightly as if he’s trying to decide his next move.

He hands off the cigarette with a casual flick of his wrist and shifts his focus back to the girl beside him. She’s still rambling, her words tumbling over each other in an eager attempt to hold his attention.

He doesn’t bother pretending to care. Instead, he lets out an indulgent chuckle, shaking his head like whatever nonsense just came out of her mouth is equal parts adorable and absurd.

You almost feel bad for her. It’s hard not to fall for that sleazy charm—especially when it’s attached to a man that’s so fucking handsome.

When she swivels to chat with her friend, his eyes immediately find yours again. A cocky expression paints his countenance, one that practically asks: What the hell are you doing all the way over there?

You entertain the idea of making him wait, savoring the power in holding his attention hostage for just a moment longer. But who are you kidding? The magnetic pull he has over you is impossible to resist. It always is.

The small box tucked snugly in the back pocket of your jeans presses against you as you weave through the crowd, sidestepping a few overly tipsy guests and slipping past the fold-out tables scattered across the lawn. 

“Hey,” you say, sliding yourself effortlessly between the two girls, not caring about interrupting their conversation. Immediately, their sharp side-eyes practically stab you with twin daggers of irritation.

You don’t flinch. You’re not here for them, anyway.

You only care about the pair of deep brown eyes that make you feel like you’re the only person in the world when he looks at you. “Happy Birthday, Javier.”

A flicker of what looks like smugness and amusement crosses his face as he licks his lips, taking another measured drag.

He’s dressed in a variant of his signature look—a white button-up with a few buttons let loose to show off his neck and the top of his chest, despite the brisk autumn air, and a worn brown leather jacket accentuating his broad shoulders.

However, it’s the ridiculous tiara perched atop his head that catches your eye, and the sight makes you frown ever so slightly when you notice the matching glittery ones on his groupies, like it’s some inside joke you’re not a part of.

For some inexplicable reason—it rubs you the wrong way. You can’t believe you’re slightly jealous of it. How stupid.

“Thank you, fresita.” 

Ugh, that infuriating nickname. You’d been charmed by it at first, assuming it was something sweet and impish. It wasn’t until Chucho let it slip that it’s also used to describe a woman that’s spoiled and picky that you realized it wasn’t just affectionate; it was also dig at your finer tastes.

And so what if you are a little high maintenance?

You don’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction, even though he loves coaxing it out of you. Instead, you tilt your head slightly, letting a soft undercurrent of flirtation lace your voice as you ask, “Mind if I pull you aside? I’d like to give you your gift.”

His interest is evident in the way his brow raises and the girls bristle slightly, their expressions shifting to thinly veiled jealousy once they realize he’s no longer focused on them. You captured him the moment he saw you amidst the crowd.

“We were just finishin’ up,” Javi says casually, dropping the cigarette and crushing it beneath his boot. He flicks a glance at the two disappointed faces, his smirk widening. “Con permiso, chicas. Thanks for the smoke.”

As he steps away from them, you feel a little triumphant thrill surge in your chest. They look deflated, their pouty expressions almost comical as they watch him leave with you, muttering goodbyes under their breaths.

The curly haired woman stares you down, and you try not to let the smug victory of whisking him away be too obvious… though you can’t help but smile condescendingly before fully turning away. 

“Some fan club you’ve got,” you tease once the two of you are finally alone, near the entrance of the sunroom that’s a part of the house.

He smirks, leaning against the siding and tilting his head, once more eyeing you down like you’re the finest thing he’s ever seen. “You jealous?” 

You scoff, shaking your head in mock disbelief. “Absolutely not.” It’s a little white lie, since you had felt a twinge of that pesky envy, but you don’t want him to know that. He’d either give you shit for it, or on the more extreme end, rethink this arrangement he currently has with you.

And you’d rather not lose it. Not right now, at least. You’re having too much fun letting Javier fuck your brains out on a consistent basis. 

Slowly, you close the space between you, your fingers darting up to flick the tacky tiara perched on his head. “Cute.”

Before you can step back, his hands are on you—big and warm as they grip your waist and pull you flush against his chest.

The force of it has you sighing out in satisfaction. There’s something wholly fucking addictive about the way he handles you.

His hands know exactly where to place themselves, his fingers applying the perfect amount of pressure to set the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy.

“No need to be, baby. You know you’re my favorite.” If your friends knew you were hooking up with the town slut, they’d definitely stage an intervention before you could finish your next sentence. Laying out all the reasons why letting Javier Peña into your bed was a one-way ticket to heartbreak city.

They’d call it desperation. They’d call it lowering your standards.

But what they don’t know is that standards start to feel awfully overrated when Javier has you pinned to a mattress, whispering filthy promises in your ear as his hands map every inch of your body. They don’t know what it’s like to have his full attention—his lips trailing worshipful kisses down your skin, his gravelly voice murmuring sweet nothings in Spanish that you don’t fully understand from how he slurs them together but feel all the same.

Being around him is electric, intoxicating, a high you’re not quite ready to give up.

So no, your friends don’t know. And as long as you can keep this thing between you and Javier your little secret, they never will.

“You gonna let me unwrap my gift or what?” His hand slides lower to cup your right cheek with shameless familiarity, giving it a frisky spank that makes you giggle.

This man and his obsession with your ass—it’s borderline ridiculous, and yet, you’re absolutely here for it.

“Later, maybe,” you reply with faux coyness, your finger dragging along his mustache then over to his pouty lips. He purses them, placing a kiss to the tip of your finger, “if you’re not too busy.”

His hold on your backside tightens, voice morphing into something more sultry, raspier, which is your absolute weakness. It makes your thighs rub together. “You know I always make time for you.”

You laugh softly at that. More often than not, you’re the one initiating while he only reaches out when it suits him. It’s not ideal at times, but you don’t get hung up on it.

You’re not about to ruin this by asking more of someone who doesn’t have it in him.

You reach back and pull the small box from your pocket. “Here’s your real gift,” you say, holding it out to him. Your voice softens, but there’s still a playful inflection. “Hope you like it.”

Curiosity fills those dark eyes as he takes the box, eyeing the tacky birthday wrapping paper with a soft smile. The sight of that grin on his face has your eyes morphing into hearts.

“You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know,” you reply with a shrug. “But I saw it at the thrift store and just knew it had to go to you.”

You angle yourself to press a light kiss to the tip of his chin, your lips brushing against the stubble before you nip at it gently with your teeth. “Open it.”

His nimble fingers pull apart the crinkled folds of the wrapping paper to reveal the small box inside. When he opens it, you see his immediate delight, and your heart does a traitorous little flip.

The golden chain bracelet glints under the string lights strung along the roof’s edge, somehow making it look nicer out here than how it had been displayed at the store.

“Damn, this is nice,” he says, genuinely appreciative. The praise sends a faint thrill up your spine, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you watch him lift the bracelet out of the box to inspect it.

You’ve imagined how good the gold would look while his wrist is flexing as he grips your thighs, holding you open for him. Or when he’s feeling you up, rough and greedy, fingers digging into your soft hips as he takes your pussy how he wants.

“Put it on,” he holds his wrist and the bracelet out toward you. His tone carries that easy confidence, like he already knows you’ll obey without question.

Which you do, obviously. You carefully clasp it around his wrist, your fingers brushing his skin as you secure it, and that little brush feels like you’ve just snorted a line of adrenaline with how amped up your body gets.

“Looks good on you,” you admire your handiwork, though the truth is; he’d make anything look good. Even a paper crown. Or, you know, a tacky tiara.

“Gracias, fresita,” he replies smoothly, that familiar nickname rolling off his tongue.

“Are you ever going to stop calling me that?”

“Nah.”

Before you can come up with a witty retort, he pulls you against him again, One hand at your lower back, the other tucked into the back pocket of your jeans. His lips capture yours in a kiss that’s eager and completely unapologetic.

“Easy there, birthday boy—”

“Can’t help it,” he cuts you off, his voice rough against your lips. “Been waiting for you to show up all night.”

You can’t help but chase after that tasty mouth of his, your tongue licking against his, teeth biting into his lower lip and the slight tickle of his mustache makes you shiver. Then his hips grind against your thigh, his erection prominent, which in turn has heat flaring all over your body. 

“Let’s go inside,” he breaks away, tugging you toward the small steps leading into the sunroom.

You weren’t expecting to fuck him so early on in the night but you’re not about to complain about it. Every fiber of your body yearns for this man—but specifically your cunt. She’s obsessed.

The room looks like it’s in the middle of a renovation—a man cave in progress.

One wall boasts an unfinished bar, complete with half-empty bottles and shot glasses scattered across the surface. A brand-new pool table sits in the center of the room, its felt pristine, untouched by drunken games or spilled drinks. 

At the far end, a set of leather couches and a recliner face the large television set and entertainment center.

The double doors to the house are shut tight, leaving the room dim and private, save for the warmness of the string lights spilling in through the windows.

You’re caught up taking it all in when Javier sneaks up behind you, pressing hot, greedy kisses against your neck as his hands roam your body.

There’s nothing tentative about his touch—he cups your tits with both hands, squeezing them over your sweater as a deep groan rumbles in his throat. His need for you is palpable, a force that makes your knees weak even as he maneuvers you toward the pool table.

“Here, Javi?” you pant when he sucks at your weak spot under your jaw. “Let’s just go up to your room—”

“No,” he growls, spinning you around to face him, his dark eyes alight with lust. “Want you right here on this table.”

Before you can argue, his lips are on yours again. You let yourself melt into it, your hands reaching up to pluck the ridiculous tiara off his head and tossing it aside with a flick of your wrist.

His hair is soft under your fingers as you card through it, tugging lightly just to feel the way his body reacts, the way his kisses deepen in response.

When his tongue slides into your mouth, you surprise even yourself by wrapping your lips around it, sucking gently. You’re greedy and he loves it.

Javier’s grunt prompts your thighs to clench instinctively around him. His jacket hits the floor as he shrugs it off, lips trailing down your neck. You kick off your boots, his hands lifting you with ease to place you on the sturdy pool table.

Your sweater is gone before you know it. He’s in the middle of working on the button of your jeans, his fingers deft and impatient, when your eyes land on something that makes you freeze.

Or better yet, someone. There’s a figure slumped in one of the recliners at the far end of the room.

Your breath hitches, your body tensing. “Javi, stop.” Your words falter into a moan as his lips find your collarbone, sucking on your skin.

“What’s wrong?” he murmurs, barely pausing as he tugs your pants down your hips. Despite yourself, you lift slightly to help him, even as you frantically nudge your head toward the recliner.

“There’s someone here,” you whisper.

He stops, his head snapping up to follow your gaze. His expression shifts into a frustrated scowl when he sees the figure sprawled in the chair. “Goddamnit,” he mutters, reluctantly pulling away from you and heading over to investigate.

You watch as he approaches, his boots heavy on the hardwood. It’s his cousin Danny, completely passed out, his head lolling to the side and his mouth hanging open. Javier whistles sharply, snapping his fingers in front of his face. Nothing. He gives his shoulder a firm nudge once, twice—still nothing.

“Out cold,” Javier says, his tone both annoyed and amused as he turns back to you. “Took down almost a whole bottle of tequila earlier. He’s not gonna bother us.”

You hesitate, your eyes darting to the unconscious form. The idea of hooking up with someone uninvited in the room feels... complicated… exhilarating, maybe? You’ve never done it before.

But your reluctance evaporates the moment Javier closes the distance between you again, his hands sliding your jeans clean off, leaving you in nothing but your mismatched bra and panties.

He drinks you in, and the rest of the party—including the slumped figure in the corner—melts away under the weight of his attention.

No words are needed, not when he roughly tugs the cups of your bra down, letting your breasts spill free, nor when he dips his head, his stubble grazing your skin as his warm mouth captures one of your nipples.

Your breath catches, back arching your breasts into his warm, wet mouth. His tongue lazily circles and flicks over the hardened bud. Then he sucks harder, pulling a drawn-out moan from you before switching to the other side.

You bite your lip, determined to stifle the sighs of pleasure threatening to break. His knocked out cousin in the corner keeps you cautious, even as your body aches to let go.

Javier notices. Always does. He pulls away with a pop, a thin string of saliva connecting his pouty lips to your nipple. “Nu-uh,” he chides. “Don’t hold back.”

“I’m not trying to wake him up,” you counter, though your voice wavers from how good his mouth felt.

“You won’t,” he replies, almost dismissively, giving you a peck on the lips before he drops to his knees before you. He starts at your calves, leaving slow, deliberate kisses that send sparks dancing along your skin.

The faint scrape of his facial hair adds to the wonderful torment as his mouth works its way up, switching from leg to leg.

When he reaches the inside of your right knee, he kisses it almost sweetly, before dragging his tongue slowly in a hot stripe up to your inner thigh. You can’t stop the small shiver that ripples through you, your hands gripping the edge of the pool table for balance.

Javier finally reaches your pussy and you shudder as he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your clothed clit. The heat of his breath and the firm pressure of his lips through the cotton of your panties makes your back arch.

He hooks a finger into the fabric and pulls it to the side, diving in immediately. His tongue parts your folds, curling and slithering against your pearly clit before moving lower.

“Fuck,” you sigh, your hips bucking involuntarily, pressing yourself harder against his mouth.

He groans, enjoying how reactive you are, his fingers digging into the soft meat of your thighs while he holds you firmly in place. His mouth works with a singular focus, his tongue swirling and dipping into your entrance, then sliding back up to flick over your clit.

The feeling of his stupid mustache makes it that much better, scratching at your cunt lusciously. 

You can’t help it now—a soft, keening moan slips out of you, echoing faintly in the dimly lit room. Your head lolls around on your shoulders as pleasure coils at the pit of your stomach, the tension winding tighter with each stroke of his tongue.

“That’s it,” he practically purrs. “Let me hear you.”

His lips seal around your clit, sucking gently, and you swear it feels like you’ve been possessed—holding back is impossible. Another moan escapes you, louder this time, your thighs shaking in his grip as he devours you.

Javi pushes you over the edge so effortlessly that a cry of his name spits out of your throat before you can stop it, cutting through the room.

You're grateful this area of the house is directed away from the backyard, where the party celebrating him outside continues on, oblivious of his absence as he indulges in you.

Your orgasm settles like a heavy current, fingers nearly going numb from holding on to the pool table for dear life.

You’re still disoriented and flustered when Javier stands, looming over you, cupping the back of your head and bringing you in to passionately make out.

His mouth is coated in your tangy essence, making you taste yourself as he slips his tongue down your throat.

You whimper, clawing at his chest for more and he pulls away to turn you around, manhandling you onto your stomach on the table.

His hands are firm yet impatient as he grips one of your legs by the back of your knee and hooks it over the edge of the wooden border.

Javi stares down at your sex, partially exposed and glistening for him. Your panties are askew, one swollen pussy lip peeking out while a dark, damp patch spreads over the cotton where his tongue had devoured you moments ago.

“Fuck.” The lewd sight has him hastily undoing his belt and popping the button on his jeans, his dick hard and ready to bury himself inside your sweet cunt. 

Propping yourself up on your palms, you glance back at him over your shoulder, a teasing, blissed out smile playing on your lips despite the burning heat between your thighs. “I figured you’d want to savor me. Wait for later…” you coo, rolling your hips and causing your ass to jiggle, feeling giddy at how his eyes zero in on the motion.

“I savor you all the time, baby. Even during these nasty, quick fucks.” Him saying that has you over the fucking moon. “You can’t expect me to wait knowin’ this pussy needs me to fuck her real good.”

The hand adorned with your golden bracelet grabs your supple ass, kneading the flesh before landing a stinging spank that makes you jolt and let out a cry. The sharp sound carries, making your eyes flick nervously toward the recliner where his cousin still lies, unaware of the debauchery happening mere feet away.

Javier seems completely unbothered, casually toying with your panties as though you have all the time in the world. He hooks his finger into the soaked fabric, dragging it back and forth against your sticky folds, smearing your slick across your pussy lips.

Your hips move on their own, chasing the friction, and you bite your lip hard, trapping the needy moan building in your throat.

“Can I come over later?”

His question is so nonchalant it nearly makes you laugh, but the way he teases you has you too far gone to do so. You grind back against his touch, desperate for more, your lips parting in a breathy moan.

“Yes.” The thought of him showing up at your doorstep at three in the morning, bourbon on his lips, just for you to sink to your knees and take him down your throat makes your pussy clench around nothing, crying out for his cock as more of your arousal leaks against your panties. “Whenever.”

He hums in satisfaction, stepping closer and reaching for your jaw, tilting your head to the side roughly and meeting you for a kiss. The fabric of his shirt grazes your bare skin and he tugs your panties to the side again while his mouth continues to hold yours captive.

His cock nudges against your waiting entrance, teasing, the flushed head dragging over the fleshy cleft of your clit in languid taps.

When he finally pushes in, there’s no preamble—just the yummy stretch of him filling you to the fucking brim, shoving a strangled whine out of your mouth as he sets a brutal pace immediately, not giving you even a moment to adjust.

Your palms slip against the velvet of the pool table as you struggle to hold yourself up, but it’s no use. The force of his thrusts sends you collapsing forward onto your chest, scattering the neatly racked pool balls across the table.

They clatter and roll in all directions, but Javier doesn’t slow for a second. His grip on your waist tightens, forcing you to fuck yourself back on his dick.

“Shit,” he growls hoarsely, already breathless as he watches your ass bounce with every stroke. “You’re makin’ a loud fuckin’ mess,” he hisses, though there’s no real malice there—just straight horniness.

In one smooth motion, he grabs both your wrists with one large hand, pinning them to your lower back. He then angles your pelvis so that your clit is grinding against the smooth wooden border of the pool table while your tender nipples rub against the green felt.

The effects of that are immediate, your body feeling like it’s burning from the inside out. “Mmm, fuck yeah, keep doing that,” you moan desperately. 

The raunchy sound of your ass clapping against his thighs fills the room, a filthy rhythm accompanied by the feeling of his heavy balls brushing against your cunt. 

The noise feels impossibly loud, your whimpers and his grunts reverberating off the walls. Surely, his cousin will wake up—surely, someone will walk in on the shameless display Javier is putting on with your body.

Or maybe not, since Javier keeps fucking you all hot and wanton, especially when he hits your sweet spot and your ribbed, gushy walls hug around his dick like a vice.

Your forehead presses against the table as you chant his name, your vision swimming.

You try to glance toward the recliner where his cousin is passed out, but your eyes can’t focus. Everything’s a blur—two of everything, indistinct shapes swimming in the haze of your arousal.

The only thing you can truly focus on is Javier: the way his cock breaches your most intimate spaces, the heat of his body against yours, the sharp bite of his belt against the backs of your thighs.

You’re soaking him, ruining the hem of his half-buttoned shirt. But you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when he’s splitting you open so perfectly, his tight grip on your wrists keeping you pinned and utterly open for him to take.

Your sore clit continues to rub against the smooth wood of the table, now sticky from how shamelessly you’ve been humping against it while chasing your pleasure.

Between the stimulation on your clit, the rough scrape of the felt against your sensitive nipples, and the relentless pounding of his shaft brushing your g-spot—it’s all too much. 

Your body trembles, a loud cry ripping from your throat as your orgasm slams into you.

"Javi!" you spasm in his hold, nails digging into your palms as your wrists remain trapped beneath his firm grip. shoulders burning from his rough hold.

Your pussy clamps hard around him, wet and creamy as you come, soaking his cock and leaving no doubt about how thoroughly he fucked you.

Javier curses through gritted teeth, switching between Spanish and English as he ruts into you, his rhythm stuttering. “Fuck, fresita, you’re squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight—just like that.”

He doesn’t falter, fucking you even as your orgasm settles over you like a heavy current.

He hauls you upright, pulling your back flush against his chest, his grip on your wrists unrelenting as he traps them between your bodies.

Both of his arms wrap tightly around your trembling frame, one hand sliding up to grab your tit, kneading it roughly while the other sprawls against your stomach and waist to hold you steady as he fucks up into you.

His mouth is at your ear now, his breath ragged. “Gonna bust inside this pretty pussy baby and you’re gonna let me, aren’t you?”

You nod weakly, biting down on your lip as your eyes flutter shut. “So fuckin’ willing to take my cum like a real slut,” the degrading name makes your clit twitch because he’s right—you are a real slut. Only for him. Always hungry and ready to please, to do anything to satisfy him and he knows it.

“You’re so goddamn perfect—fuck.” His hips jerk a few times before he groans deeply, his cock pulsing as he finishes deep inside you, his hold on your body tightening to the point where you wince but it hurts so good.

“What the fuck?”

The sharp voice cuts through the haze, yanking you back to reality. Your eyes snap open, and panic floods your system as you instinctively try to shield your almost-naked body.

Across the room, Danny sits up in the recliner, his hair a mess and his bleary eyes squinting in confusion. He looks like he’s been rudely yanked out of a drunken slumber, and unfortunately, it’s your fault.

Javier, of course, remains maddeningly calm. “Relax,” his voice still thick with that post-climax rasp as he mumbles in your ear.

Meanwhile, your body is burning—part embarrassment, part leftover heat from the sinful things Javier just did to you on this pool table.

You try to wriggle out of his grip, but his arms are like iron bands, keeping you firmly in place.

Danny rubs at his eyes, blinking hard as if trying to process what’s in front of him. His head tilts slightly, and for one horrifying second, you think he’s piecing it all together. But instead, he suddenly leans over the side of the recliner and starts retching, the sound loud and wet as he empties his stomach onto the carpet.

The sharp, acidic stench of vomit hits the air, mixing unpleasantly with the heady scent of sweat and sex. It’s enough to finally get Javier to loosen his hold.

He pulls out of you with a grunt, leaving you aching and exposed, and you both watch as his release starts to spill out of you, trickling over your swollen folds and dripping onto the table with obscene little plops.

But there’s no time to dwell on the mess. You scramble to grab your clothes, your movements frantic and clumsy as you yank your jeans up your legs and shove your arms into your sweater.

Javier’s doing the same, though far less hurried, like he’s still amused by the whole situation.

When you finally look up at him, his dark eyes are sparkling with mischief, and he throws you a roguish grin that almost makes you laugh despite yourself.

Danny, meanwhile, is still groaning and gagging, his face pale as a sheet. You feel a tiny pang of guilt, but before you can even think about offering help, Javier grabs your hand and tugs you toward the door.

“Aren’t you going to help him?” you whisper, trying to keep your voice low.

“Fuck no,” Javier replies without missing a beat. “Not my fault he couldn’t handle his liquor.”

He presses a kiss to the back of your hand, his lips warm and soft against your skin, and you can’t help but follow him.

You glance back over your shoulder as you’re being pulled toward the backyard, unable to stop yourself from throwing out a half-hearted, “Sorry!”

He doesn’t respond—he’s too busy dry heaving—but you and Javier are already sneaking out, stifling your laughter as the sounds of the party grow louder around you.

The music thrums through the air, its infectious rhythm pulling you in as your dance partner tightens his grip on your waist. His hands are firm, guiding you with confidence, but the musky cologne mixed with the sour tang of sweat is enough to make your nose crinkle if you focus too hard on it.

Still, you’re here out of spite, letting the sway of your hips speak louder than words as your body molds to his. The banda song carries you both across the makeshift dance floor, your movements fluid and natural as though the music itself has taken over.

Javier is just a few paces away, entangled with the curly-haired girl from earlier. His hands rest on her lower back, his body moving with ease. 

There’s a playful challenge in both of your eyes when your gazes finally meet, knowing how this little game of yours will end. 

Neither of you looks away, both determined to outdo the other, even in this small, ridiculous way.

Your dance partner spins you abruptly, breaking the moment. The move is smooth, you’ll give him that, and you find yourself face-to-face with him once again.

He’s not bad looking, honestly—sharp jawline, nice green eyes—but the cologne is killing the vibe, and his wandering hands are starting to push it.

Thankfully, the song winds to a close just as his fingers inch a little too far down your back. The music shifts, a different tune kicking in, and you step back, offering a polite smile as he thanks you for the dance.

“Got a number I can save?” he asks, hopeful and slightly cocky.

You grin, a little too sweetly, and rattle off your number without hesitation. You’ve got no intention of responding if he uses it, but you can’t resist the temptation to stir the pot. As he finally walks away, you feel it—a scorching stare burning into your back.

You don’t even have to look to know who it’s coming from.

“Baila conmigo.”

The familiar rasp of Javier’s voice cuts through the noise as he steps into your space. He takes a swig of his beer, his leather jacket gone, leaving him in just the white button-up that hugs his chest a little too well.

You cock a brow, crossing your arms. “What happened to your dance partner?”

“Sent her away,” he replies easily, his smirk infuriatingly smug. “Poor girl couldn’t catch the rhythm.”

You let out an amused huff, rolling your eyes. Of course, he’d say that. Before you can think better of it, you take his hand, allowing him to lead you toward la pista.

The moment you’re there, he pulls you flush against him, one large hand settling at your lower back while the other still clutches his beer. You fall into the simple two-step with ease, your bodies moving in perfect sync to the music. 

His thigh slots between yours, the friction sparking something electric, and you can’t help but press closer, your breaths mingling in the intimate space between you.

“Reminds me of that night at the club,” his lips brush at your ear. It’s a miracle you can still hear him over the loud music. “When you finally let me get between those pretty legs.”

The heat in his words, combined with the faint scent of his cologne and the alcohol on his breath, floods your senses. He smells and feels like everything your last dance partner wasn’t.

Whistles and cheers ripple through the crowd as you and Javi throw yourselves into the rhythm of the song, your bodies moving like two parts of the same melody.

You hadn’t expected him to be such a good dancer the first time you shared a dance—not until that night at the club. 

And just like his dancing, the way he fucked you afterward had blown every expectation out of the water.

The song comes to an end, leaving you both flushed and slightly winded, sweat clinging to your skin despite the cool night air. The cheers die down as a new track begins, and Javi’s lips quirk into a lopsided grin.

“C’mon, give me another one,” he urges, his voice still rich and sensual despite the exertion.

You laugh, shaking your head as you step back, hands on your hips. You hadn’t planned to stay this long, and now your body is screaming for mercy. “Raincheck, handsome. I gotta head home.”

Javi’s grin falters slightly, but it doesn’t fade completely as your hand drifts down his chest, fingers savoring the firmness of his body.

His broad shoulders and toned frame are just so enchanting, and you can’t resist indulging one last time before grabbing his beer. You take a long, slow sip, your eyes flicking up to meet his as you drain the bottle and set it aside on one of the plastic fold-out tables.

“Not gonna stick around for the cake?” he asks, that boyish charm in his tone as he steps closer.

You flash him a flirty smile. “Save me a piece.”

He opens his mouth to say something else, but the rowdy chaos of his friends and cousins cuts him off. They swarm him, loud and eager, tugging at his shoulders and shouting for him to take another shot.

He laughs, but his gaze finds yours, his warm brown eyes locking on to you one last time.

“Enjoy, Javi,” you tell him with a wink. “You know where to find me.”

That familiar smirk is at his lips as he’s pulled toward the makeshift bar. You watch him for a moment before turning to make your departure.

You’re cutting across the lawn when you hear a voice behind you.

“Need a ride home?”

It’s the guy you danced with earlier, his cologne still potent even in the open air. His gentlemanliness would’ve been charming if it weren’t for the obvious expectation in his tone.

You decline politely, offering a quick smile before brushing past him and unlocking your car.

What you don’t realize is that Javi sees the entire exchange from afar. He’d caught the tail end of the guy trailing after you, his gaze narrowing as he watched you disappear into the sea of parked cars.

A flicker of irritation tugged at his expression, but he stayed rooted to his spot, letting his friends push another shot into his hand.

Instead of following, he threw himself into his own celebration, his laugh loud and boisterous as if he hadn’t seen a damn thing. But he couldn’t stop thinking about you leaving with that guy, and the glint in his eyes that had been so bright when you were there dulled just slightly. 

Still, he let it go, for now.

He knew exactly where to find you, after all.

“Oh my god,” you mewl, your back arching against the cold tile of your kitchen floor. Javier thrusts into you with a raw, animalistic need, his cock driving so deep inside you that it feels like he’s carving himself into your very being.

The absurdity of the situation is a bit funny—you’re still fully clothed, minus your sleeping shorts having been thrown haphazardly across the room, a stark contrast to earlier when you’d been bare and spread for him on that damn pool table.

Just as you predicted, he showed up at your door in the dead of night, his silhouette illuminated by the dim porch light. You’d barely made it to the door before his desperate, insistent knocking threatened to wake the entire block.  

It felt like he might break it down if you didn’t open it fast enough. Whoever dropped him off didn’t even wait to see if you’d answer.

No words were exchanged when you finally let him in. His brown eyes, dark and searing, did all the talking.

He’d cupped your face with one rough hand, the other holding a plate with aluminum foil covering it, precariously balancing it in his palm as he kissed you with an appetite that left you breathless.

You let him back you into the kitchen, setting the plate on the counter, his body crowding yours until there was nowhere left to go.

And now, here you are, legs spread wide, the weight of him pressing you down into the tiles, his jacket still on, smelling like beer and bourbon as he ruts himself against you.

“Givin’ your number out, huh?” he growls against your lips, his words dripping with bitterness. His hand snakes up to wrap around your neck, firm but not harsh, forcing your hazy eyes to meet his. You feel the subtle coolness of the bracelet against your skin and that only makes it better. “That’s all it takes, fresita? One fuckin’ dance?”

Each word is punctuated by a sharp, punishing thrust that has you gasping for air.

Your hands scramble at the back of his jacket, trying to find some sort of anchor while his dick fucks into you over and over, your slick cunt clamping helplessly around him.

If your brain wasn’t fogged with pleasure, you’d call him out on his jealousy, tease him for letting something so trivial get under his skin. At least you were better about hiding it.

But god, it’s too fucking hot—seeing him like this, so undone, so unhinged, all because of you.

Javier, the man who always carries himself with that cool, confident swagger, who never seems to let anything faze him, is now losing his composure right here on your kitchen floor.

And all it took was watching some other guy’s attention on you to make him snap. If anyone is picky and spoiled here—it’s him.

“Answer me,” he demands, his grip on your throat tightening just enough to leave you lightheaded, his thrusts never faltering. His free hand grabs at your thigh, spreading you even wider for him, the angle forcing you to experience every inch of him.

“I—it was nothing,” you manage to cry, though your words are almost incoherent as he’s driving into you. “Javi, I—”

“You what?” he interrupts with a curt laugh, his teeth grazing the underside of your jaw before he bites down gently, making you squirm beneath him. “You think I’m gonna let you walk around, lettin’ some asshole think he’s got a chance with you?”

The thought alone seems to fuel him further, his movements growing rougher and you swear you’re on the edge of unraveling.

And as he watches the way your body responds to him—your nails digging into his back, your moans turning into screams—he knows he’s making his point loud and clear. 

Javi’s grip around your throat tightens, cutting off your breath just enough to stimulate you. The pressure makes you feel somehow, impossibly, even more turned on.

“He can’t fuck you like I can,” he grinds against you, his coarse and damp pubic hairs bristling against your sensitive clit, the friction of it almost too much. “No one can.” His face hovers so close to yours that you can feel his breath on your lips.

Your mouth falls open on instinct, tiny, wheezy moans spilling out as his nose brushes against yours.

Javier’s dark eyes feel like they’re boring straight into your soul, gleaming with hunger as he watches your every twitch, every little surrender. He leans in and kisses you all demanding and vehement. 

His lips claim yours like he’s trying to eat you whole, his tongue slipping inside to taste every gasp you give him.

“Listen to that,” he murmurs mockingly as he pulls back just enough to let his gaze drop between your bodies, watching your pussy swallow his cock. “Just listen to how wet you are, baby. Think he could ever make you sound like this?”

Your cheeks burn with embarrassment—and arousal—as the obscene, sloppy sounds of his length plunging into you fill the air, amplified by his words. The drive of his hips is merciless, each stroke drawing you closer with dizzying precision.

Your nails dig into his forearms, bending your body beneath him as your vision starts to be blotched with white spots.

You can feel it, the winding of your orgasm at your core pulling taut, about to burst. When it finally does, your pussy flutters and squeezes as waves of smoldering intensity crash over you.

“Puta madre,” he snarls, his head falling back from how good it feels to have you come around him.

Pulling out, Javier pins you down with his weight to keep you from squirming away. His cock, flushed, drooling, and shiny with your juices, hovers inches from your face as you lay flat on the floor.

Your swollen lips part instinctively, the scent of your own headiness making your mouth water.

“Tongue out, baby,” he commands, his voice rough but coaxing.

You obey, sticking your tongue out lazily, your half-lidded eyes locked onto his. The sight of you like this—wrecked, pliant, and waiting for him—is enough to undo him completely. His hand pumps his cock, the golden accessory on his wrist jolting with each move. 

With a low, rasping groan, he spills over you, thick, hot ropes of cum splattering across your face and tongue.

You moan softly, savoring the warmth, licking your lips and swallowing whatever lands in your mouth. The taste of him leaves your tongue and throat buzzing, and you revel in the messy intimacy of it.

He uses his fingers to wipe the remnants of his release from your cheeks, then pushes them into your mouth without hesitation.

“Suck,” he orders, and you comply, wrapping your lips around his fingers, swirling your tongue over them with eager enthusiasm. You get carried away, your tongue flicking and sucking greedily, and he chuckles darkly.

“Jealousy looks good on you,” you can’t help but tease, your voice carrying amusement as you both come down from the dazed fucking.

Javier sways a little, his inebriation finally catching up to him. He stumbles, but he steadies himself smoothly, like the world itself wouldn’t dare let him fall.

He wipes a hand down his face before meeting your gaze, still kneeling on the floor. “Not a fan of people playin’ with what’s mine,” he says, the statement edged with that possessiveness he tries to pretend isn’t there.

Usually, a line like that would have you rolling your eyes and telling the guy to take his ego down a notch. But with Javier? You don’t mind. At all. Something about the way he says it—like it’s a fact, not an opinion—makes your stomach flip in the worst (or best) way possible.

“Yours?” you challenge, sitting up on your forearms and arching a brow at him. “I thought this was casual.”

“It is,” he says without missing a beat, bringing his fingers up to caress the side of your face, more calm and sure, like he’s completely unaware of how contradictory his behavior is.

You narrow your eyes slightly, refusing to let him off the hook that easily despite melting under his touch. “Casual hookups don’t go into a frenzy after watching the other dance and flirt with someone else.”

He doesn’t even flinch at your words, doesn’t even bother to defend himself. Instead, he smirks—because of course he does—and stretches his arms over his head like the entire conversation is nothing but a minor inconvenience to him.

He straightens up then stands, extending a hand to you, his palm open and inviting, the gold band of the bracelet glinting in the low light.

You let him pull you up and let out a sound of exertion, your muscles still tense from rolling around on the hard floor with him.

“Dance, flirt with whoever you want. When I want you, I’m gonna have you.”

That’s possibly the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. “That so?” You try to sound unimpressed, but your voice betrays you, just the tiniest bit giddy.

“That’s so,” he concedes vaingloriously. “Don’t forget who makes you feel this satisfied.”

As if I could ever. “Cocky bastard,” you mutter, but the words lack any real bite.

He leans in, kissing you gently, then his voice drops into that deep, velvety murmur that makes your pussy tingle. “Yet you keep coming back.”

You don’t respond because, let’s face it, he’s not wrong. Especially not when he pairs those words with an affectionate kiss.

Instead, you finally roll your eyes, the most predictable move in your arsenal, and step around him to grab your discarded sleeping shorts.

Sliding them back on, you make your way to the counter, where the lonely styrofoam plate of half-smashed birthday cake waits for attention. Without a word, you pull it closer, grab a fork, and dig in.

Javier watches you with a grin still plastered across his face, leaning his hip against the counter. “Didn’t even offer the birthday boy the first bite, huh? Real cold.”

You stab a piece exaggeratedly, lifting it to your mouth, and chewing slowly, giving him a look that says cry about it.

But when you see the faint pout pulling at his lips—a deliberate act, no doubt—you sigh, scoop up another forkful, and hold it out. “Fine. Even though technically it’s not your birthday anymore.”

He leans in, not breaking the eye contact, and takes the bite straight from the fork, his lips brushing the tines with an unnecessary amount of flair.

You swear he’s showing off, but you don’t call him out on it, not when he groans softly in appreciation and you can’t help but admire him like this, playful and flirty in your kitchen.

“Feliz cumpleaños, Javi,” you say after a moment, softer now.

He swallows, his smirk shifting into something a little more genuine as he meets your gaze. “Gracias, fresita.”

For a moment, the air between you shifts—gentler, almost intimate. Then he reaches for the fork still in your hand and steals another bite, flashing you a look that drags you right back to reality.

i have a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

@almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiamore . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @persephone-girl . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7 . @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @mysterious-moonstruck-musings . @almostfoxglove . @thundermartini . @pigeonmama . @piercethevic03 . @marisemonteiroo . @picketniffler . @getitoutofmymindwrites . @penascigarette . @bunniboo0015 . @kirsteng42 . @ivuravix . @joelmillerisapunk . @theestorm . @pasc4lfuzz .

[lychgate]

i haven't posted a really poorly drawn thought piece adventure in years so here's a brief update!

hope i hit the read more thing right oh well anyway:

"Spent a lot of time applying for a home loan. I had to pay -fucked up- to have a convincing income for a decent loan. It was very confusing but cody helped me a lot."

"Cody proposed to me It felt wonderful that someone wanted to share their time and love with me. Cody proposed Anthrohio weekend, it's the con we really met at."

"We saw the listing that sunday morning before we had to go to our table to vend."

"It was a perfect house. We were the first people to view it and we immediately put in a bid. And we got the house. Many papers to sign."

"Moving was not easy. It took 2 whole months. Cody was out of town helping their grandma recover from a big surgery and we had to sell their old house/move that as well as move from my apartment. ALSO THE PETS: My cat dick wolf + Cody's 3 birds. Until we could get some doors installed and separate the house, I had to live between two places every day to feed and care for them."

"Still, life was good. I bought my first house! It has a swing in the backyard. I've never had my own backyard. I've never even lived somewhere that had trees (in said yard) It felt nice. Living together with the love of my life and 4 pets."

"Through all this i never closed my shop. How could I? It was my income, and I just bought a house. It needed to stay open. Moving that much inventory, setting up a new office, the house is a nice size but it's not huge, so, very careful organizing had to be executed if I wanted my apparel laid out right. (Which I totally managed to do)"

"but i Did get really good at baking pies. the two are connected."

"sacred_crow on instagram!"

"there's like 25 of u bastards i would absolutely die for, and about 75 more that i would go nearly dead over."

"We have an extra bedroom so I got to turn it into a toy room. There's games, crafts, stuffed animals, movies, a sick loft I painted the shit out of. It rules. It brings me a lot of Joy."

"Under the loft we have a dug out where we can watch VHS tapes. I love to sit with Cody and watch movies and play Donkey Kong."

"I am not good at Banjo Kazooie, but Cody is. Cody is so talented. I love watching them play games. (Depicted is not banjo kazooie but donkey kong country 2 as we are currently playing that. I'm good at DKC but I will still swear and make sounds like im about to throw up)"

"Half the basement is finished, so we turned it into a dual office space. It rules. Cody has a whole side for fursuit crafting, and my side is mostly my gigantic gamer computer area/shipping area. I took a whole wall to put all my non apparel merch like pins charms and notebooks also. for hte love of god someone buy the notebooks they take up more space then i wanted"

"I love to look over from my computer and see cody working. They always look so focused, yet peaceful."

"It's winter but it rains. I miss the snow. I lived by the lakes growing up. I miss piles of snow. It's just wet and cold here. Yes i'm quite aware of global warming"

"I got kicked off both my health and car insurance. I fixed the car one but health insurance still no. All my meds have gone away. The past few months have been hard. I think way too much lately. I can't get myself to do anything. -this is a whole page of downer bullshit and i cropped it!-"

"We had a leaky ceiling that took a month to fix. Cody did all the work because they are smart and kind."

"Oh yeah I had my uterus removed earlier this year. They let me keep it. It's in a jar in my living room."

"We threw a very nice halloween party. I was the green m&m. Cody was the monarch."

"We adopted 8 beautiful kiwis from a crane machine at the mall. we spent over 100 monies to get them but it was worth it."

"

It was a rough year. My health is in decline. Our country may try to end my life for being trans soon (lol?) I am in hte middle of a colossal mental breakdown of my core fundamental behavior (depression advanced) BUT ALSO: I am engaged to my favorite person. We bought a house together. I'm beginning a new chapter of my life. I have a swing in my backyard. The negatives suck but there are also many positives. The cycle of emotions is immense, but there is beauty in it. There is beauty in life, and isn't that wonderful?"

[suosteacup]

Pancakes ~redux~

pairing: Kozume Kenma x gn!reader

genre: fluff

wc: 0.8k

tw/cw: post-timeskip, food, Kenma and reader are newlyweds here, one swear word from Kenma, kitten as a term of endearment from Kenma to you.

a/n: a rehashed version of an old Kenma drabble I wrote on @/mrskodzuken. Thank you Mari @littleplantfreak for betareading this AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ilysfm 😘 Star dividers by @cafekitsune + support banner by @adornedwithlight 🫶🏻 tagging @pixelcafe-network

The whole house is quiet on an early Sunday morning, save for some tapping and cracking sounds coming from inside the kitchen. A soft plop! can also be heard as Kenma carefully discards a stray egg shell away from the pancake batter mix using a spoon. He then slowly pours fresh milk into a liquid measuring cup until it reaches the desired level, before carefully adding it to the mixture. Next, he picks a measuring spoon nearby, unscrews the cap off a bottle of vegetable oil, and adds two tablespoons of it into the batter.

It’s unusual for Kozume Kenma to wake up early in the morning, much less cook breakfast, but today is very special; the reason why he woke up earlier today is to make you breakfast in bed—after a month of saying “I do’s” to each other, to make your favorite kiwi fruit pancakes with love.

He remembers something you’d said almost a year ago, while having a friendly date at a cafe just beside Kuro’s office one early morning…

“You know, Kenken? When I get married, I’ll ask my husband-to-be to make me pancakes like this one day,” you say to Kenma as you take an IG-worthy photo of a plate of kiwi fruit pancakes drizzled—no, heavily soaked—in maple syrup on your phone.

“Ehhh… really? Well, good luck to him, I guess.” He looks at you with a shit-faced grin plastered on his face. “That ‘one day’ is going to turn into ‘one week’, ‘one month’, and so on—ow!”

“Zip it, Puddinghead. As if I would force him to make pancakes everyday, you know?” you tell Kenma poutily, waving a forkful of pancake in front of his face before stuffing it up to your mouth. “I’m not that cruel~”

He sighs in defeat and smiles sheepishly before taking a sip of his latte.

“Okay, okay, if you say so…”

After slightly mixing the batter, Kenma adds the minced kiwi fruit that he prepared earlier and whisks it in until fully mixed. He then proceeds to dip a ladleful of the batter into the preheated pan, quickly shaping some of the corners with a clean toothpick to resemble cat ears before the bottom side completely cooks.

“Cute,” he chuckles softly, looking proud of his ‘artwork’.

“It sure is…”

Kenma suddenly jumps from where he’s standing, his golden cat-like orbs widening. He slowly turns his head around to see you peeking over his shoulder, sleep still evident on your face.

Your husband holds his breath in for a second before letting it go as butterflies start fluttering inside his stomach. “H-hi, Y/N, my love. Morning.” Fuck. Kenma internally slaps his mouth after messing up his greeting.

“Hi, Kenma, my love… g’morning~” Kenma feels your arms snaking around his waist as you snuggle closer to him from behind. He notices you looking at what’s into the pan and—Kenma finds this adorably endearing—your eyes twinkle as they widen a bit, sleepiness a thing of the past.

“Pancakes! And they’re cat-shaped, too!”

He hums and smiles, slightly checking the bottom side for any signs of browning before flipping the cooked side of the pancake with a spatula. Bringing his free hand to gently pat your head, he says in a matter-of-fact voice, “Did I also mention that they’re kiwi fruit pancakes?”

“Huh? Kiwi… fruit?”

Kenma feels your embrace around his waist getting a bit tighter. His cheeks gradually heat up as he silently continues on making another pancake, with you still hugging him.

He finally speaks in a soft voice. “Um… y-yeah. Because you told me to make one for you when we get married one day…”

“Oh. That conversation we had at the cafe that time…” You smile, both of you fondly remembering the memory.

“Yeah.”

Kenma silently cooks the remaining pancakes, the only sound heard in the kitchen is the slight sizzle of the pancake batter cooking. He feels your weight shifting from behind, strands of your hair tickling the side of his neck. He wonders if you can still feel his heart beating loudly just as he can feel yours.

“Y/N, kitten? Still sleepy? I’m almost done here, you should sit down and wait for me. Then we can eat breakfast together—“

A sniffle. “Thank you.”

“For what?” He then glances at your small form in alarm before quickly turning your attention back to the last piece of pancake, bringing the pan to a big plate sitting nearby before tilting it down, the cooked pancake sliding off and on top of the stack. Kenma turns off the stove. “Y/N… are, are you crying?”

You snuggle closer behind your husband again in reply—Kenma can feel a slight wetness forming at the back of his shirt, accompanied by a few sniffles and chuckles.

“Thank you for remembering. Thank you for coming into my life. Thank you for loving me, all my flaws and strong points. Thank you for marrying me. My bestest friend in the entire universe. My love. My everything… I love you, Kenma.”

Kenma holds your hand and kisses it softly, smiling. “I love you too, my Y/N.”

And he really loves you back. More than everything in the world.

Likes are okay, reblogs are nice, reposts and plagiarism stuff are frowned upon 🥰 | ALL WORKS BY SUOSTEACUP © 2024

[we-are-maladaptive]

Breeding ‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧ Stock

Shouto Todoroki x Cowgirl!Reader

REQUESTS ARE OPEN. Feel free to send me an ask and I’ll write it for you! Remeber to check the rules first.

CONTENTS: smut, breeding (duh), pussy pounding (teehee), hybrids, talks of past abuse, lactation kink, shouto is like in his late 20, early 30s, loss of virginity, master/pet dynamics, oral (f reciev.) Word Count: 2.7k (Proofread! :D)

It seems like people like you are not so lucky as humans. Humans get to do whatever they want, whenever they want, and it’s not fair. Being strapped in a cage all day long.. waiting for someone to take you home n’ milk you dry, maybe breed you.

Breed... you hated that word. You just wanted a life where you could be free, and not have to worry about being someone’s pet. Unfortunately for you, you were one of the best stocks in the farm. The freshest of milk, and the prettiest of faces. This meant that you were being dragged for display almost every time a rich, old buyer came around, flaunting your pretty tits and perky nipples through the thin fabric of your white dress. Praying that the price tag clipped to your ear will be enough to drive them away... sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes the buyers will get a little too close, so when they get a bite on the finger or arm and they scurry away, a few lashes at your behind is better than staying with those creeps.

One day, though, another rich man comes inside... he’s a handsome man, and looks way more decent then the crooks that usually come in the store. You hear one of the clerks scurry in his direction-

..”Oh my! Hello good sir! What are you in for today?”

“I’m here to purchase a cow.”

“Oh! I see. Is there any type you are interested in?”

“...Your best cow.”

A pair of heavy footsteps were walking to your cage, but you didn’t pay any mind to it, too engrossed in your own thoughts. You were always so shaky during a time like this, what if the price, or a bite on the arm, isn’t enough to drive them away? You can’t stay here forever...

“I’ll take her.”

Your head perked up immediately.

“O-oh! Are you sure you want to buy her? You haven’t even touched her ye-”

“I said I’ll take her. Do I need to repeat myself again?”

“Of course not sure! The price is 300,000 yen. She’s of high value.”

You looked the man in the eyes, his gaze softened when he met your eyes, maybe because they were currently filled with fear.

His eyes met the clerk again.

“...Seems fair. Lead me to the paperwork. If there's anything else I need to know, do tell me.”

...

You were terrified.

This man was large, and could easily overpower you. You stood no chance against him, so you stayed quiet and timid in the back of his car.

“Where...where going?” Dumb thing. Could barely manage to understand a few words.

“..We are heading home. You won’t be familiar, but don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you.”

Home? You have never had a home before, always stuck in the cage. He said it so gently too, maybe it’s worthless to be so panicky.. he seems sincere.

“Moo..”

...

When he pulled into the driveway, you expected to be dragged into the house, but he held you so softly. So gentle then you felt almost compelled to follow him, and that's what you did.

“Hungry..”

“You’re hungry, hm? What do you usually eat?”

“..Moo?”

He sighed. He wasn’t going to get very far when it came to communication. It seemed as though you could only understand basic words. The man fed you plenty of fresh strawberries, and kiwi. Much to your delight, since all you ate back at the farm was slop filled with hormone inducing protein.

“Who?” Is what you asked him. If you were going to stay here, you at least needed a name. “Shouto, is my name.”

“Sho...shoto..?”

“Yes, you got it.”

Shouto. That was his name. It’s not very hard to pronounce either.

It started to get late, and you had a hobby of following him wherever he went. He could tell by the clank of the cowbell he placed around your neck.

“Sleep?” He assumed you were tired after the trip. You followed him around to this somewhat pile of pillows and a blanket. It was soft, but still sturdy, since it was placed on the floor.

...

The next morning was filled with ache. You felt so heavy. Practically dragging across the floor into his room where he slept. You stared up at him and whined until he started to stir.

“Mmm..what is it?”

“Hurts.” It did hurt, the ache in your hard breasts was hard to ignore at this point. Milk threatening to spill all over and make a mess on the floor if you moved the wrong way.

“Right. I know, come here...”

He pulled down the top of your dress, and your breasts spilled over. He gently grabbed one, and sucked.

It was such a strange feeling.. it was reliving, but your nipples were so sensitive, you couldn't help but whine whenever he sucked so hard. The rich, warm milk flowed into his mouth, and when he began to coax you into his bed, you flinched a little.

“No... no breed.”

“No?” He was rather confused. One the papers and documentaries he read prior, it seemed that almost all cows loved to be bred and filled to the brim. It seemed you were the exception though. It was understandable though, and he wasn’t going to make you do anything you weren’t uncomfortable with, yet.

“Alright. Are you feeling better?” 

You nodded. You were still sleepy though, since it was still early in the morning. You snuggled up against him, much to his surprise. Seems like you like his mattress more than the floor.

“Nuh-uh. You need a bath before you can get in my bed, missy.”

“Huff.”

...

It was around 9AM now. This bath was a lot more soothing then you thought it would be. While you were marveling at the bubbles in the bath, Shouto sat at the edge, but he was internally struggling a bit...

Your body looked amazing.

The way droplets of water ran from your hair into the crevice of your breasts. When you lifted yourself up a bit to get out of the water, he could see the fat of your ass, and even a little peek at your cunt too <3.

Shouto wasn't aware of what you were doing right now, probably wandering around the house, but he wasn't worried about that recently. Right now, he wanted to figure out how to make you more.. comfortable. You had pushed away his advance to fuck you earlier, and he was currently fighting the urge to find you bend you over, but that's not very comforting. He understood that you had just gotten here, and it was a very sudden change.

After a while, he decided that the best course of action was patience, and to let you feel a little more at home via gifts or just exploration. He had gotten you a pretty decorated bell that went around your neck, and would let you snuggle with him on his bed as long as you showered or didn't run around in the grass looking for butterflies in his garden. His bed was very soft, and you cried and whined at him whenever it was time to get up.

After a week of being there, you felt a lot more at home. You were able to get down the basic layout of the house now, so you no longer got lost. It was a very large house, and so you would wail for Shouto, so he could come find wherever you were.

It was late into the evening now. You once again lay in Shouto's large garden tub, Shouto was also in the tub behind you, gently scrubbing away the mud on your shoulders, you were extra dirty after planting face-first into the ground. You tripped over yourself after trying to snatch a pretty monarch butterfly. Shouto helped you with wiping the dirt off your face when he found you, but still got himself dirty in the process thanks to you swinging your muddy tail around.

...Once you were finally clean in the tub, that's when Shouto decided to advance. He pressed you back onto his chest, and placed his hand on the lower part of your stomach. You tilted your head to look at him, curious to see what he was doing. You shuddered slightly when he pressed his lips on your neck, right above your collarbone. You tensed when he started to suckle on your neck, so he used his other hand to caress your thigh, and lifted it upward to hand over the edge of the tub, he did the same with the other leg. Your legs were now draped over the tub, giving him access to your more intimate area. He stopped sucking on your neck and again placed his hand on your lower stomach, sliding down very slowly. He whispered in your ear when you started to whimper; "Shhh, I promise I'll take good care of you. Just relax for me.'' You started to melt in his hands, he's taken good care of you ever since you got here, so you should be able to trust him. You were just scared. Scared because of the things you witnessed back at that old barn. Looking at Shouto's different colored eyes makes everything numb, so you nodded at him. He softly smiled at you, and slid his hand on top of your cunt. You stiffened slightly, so he didn’t toy with you just yet, he wanted you to get comfortable first. When Shouto felt you slightly relax into his arms, he smiled at your soft whimper, because now he had placed a calloused finger onto your swollen clit, rubbing in slow circles.

“How’s that feeling, baby?” He was taunting you now, his fingers slowly picking up the pace, stilling you with his other hand when you started grinding your hips into his fingers. “Ah….ah..” You were really trying, you were. Nothing was coming out of your mouth coherent enough for him to understand, but it was enough to make him chuckle at your attempts, a simple puff of air from his nose.

The fingers on your clit were relentless now, the circles had gotten faster, and it was hard not to buck away from his touches. Something in your core was aching to be let out, but you had no idea what it was. Your whimpers turned to soft moans, and soft moans turned into a mixture of inaudible pleas, hiccuped sobs, and loud whines. You didn’t know what you were begging for, but Shouto did. You were on the edge, you slammed your eyes shut in preparation for what was about to happen, but it never came. A disappointed noise came from your lips, and Shouto let out a light laugh at your pouty face. “Don’t worry my dear, I’ll take care of you soon enough.” He pressed a kiss to your ear and whispered something that made you shudder;

“I want you to cum on my cock, love.” With that, he lifted you from the tub, earning him a squeak from you. Using the heat of his body to dry you both at an unfathomable speed, and when he deemed you “dry” enough, he hoisted you over his shoulder and dropped you on the edge of the bed in a playful manner. He gave you no room to complain or whine at him, and instead dragged your rear towards his face as he kneeled down on the floor. Your mouth was opened to protest, but before you could manage to get a word in, your thoughts changed immediately as his mouth started to suckle on your clit. Instead, you let out a loud moan at his ministrations.

He hummed in content at your cries, and the vibrations furthered your pleasure. After a minute, he slid his index finger into your walls, curling upwards in hopes to find that soft spot, and he did. You threw your head backwards, and let out a cry of pleasure. When he deemed you wet enough, he placed another finger in. Curling up into that soft spot in your cunt, and he picked up a nice rhythm too. He curled his fingers particularly hard, which made you slam your hand over your mouth, much to his displeasure. He stood up from his position and pulled you upwards into the pillows of the bed, your legs now bent over his shoulders. He tilted your chin upwards when you tried to look down to see what was about to go inside you, however he wouldn’t let you. If you did see it, you’d probably freak out by how large it was, so it was best to avoid that. 

“You’re still so shaky, sweetie. I promise I’ll be very gentle with you, yeah? I don’t want to break you after all.” He smiled down at you when you nodded at him, your teeth biting at your plush lips and eyes slamming shut as you felt the rather large tip of his length prodding at your entrance. “Shh.. hey, you're okay. Look at me. I want to see the look in your eyes as I’m deep inside you, love.” As your eyes slowly opened you decided to grip at the sheets instead, if you bit your lip too hard it would bleed. He buried his face into your neck, as he couldn’t contain his groans and grunts either, opting to release them into your neck, his breath on your collarbone sending shivers down your spine, you could feel him gripping the sheets, and you could feel his cock prodding deeper into your sopping pussy. It hurt, it really did, but it was hard to focus on the pain when he held you so softly.

You had never felt any type of affection in your life, back at that barn. This pain was nothing compared to the lashes you used to receive back there whenever you made any type of mistake. His love was foreign to you, his touches, his affection. It was not what you expected when you first came here. You had thought he was like the others, he’d take, take and take some more until there was nothing left of you. To your surprise however he was giving you something. Giving you food, love, affection, something you’d never thought you would receive. This pain was nothing, nothing at all.

You weren’t really given any room to think when the pain did subside.

Pleasure. Pleasure in its rawest, most carnal form. It was something you never felt up until now. It was like electricity, flowing up and down every vein in your body, it was the only thing you could focus on, if you tried to focus on anything else you might break into pieces. Shouto was saying something, but it was drowned out by your cries. Everything seemed like a blur, the noises of your skin slapping together, your moaning, his grunts, all of it was hazy, other than the overwhelming sensation in between your legs.

Panic crawled its way up your spine when that sensation got a little too intense to handle, that feeling from earlier, something wanting to snap inside. Your breathing got sporadic and irregular, and Shouto noticed and hushed you.

“Hey.. it’s okay. Let go for me, yeah? I got you, you’re safe.”

You tried to plead with him, with the little English you were taught, but he wasn’t having it. He knew what was best for you, afterall.

You tried too hard to hold it in, but when he placed his fingers on your clit again, you knew you couldn’t contain it any longer.

You opened your mouth in a silent scream, head thrown back, your hair a mess, and nails raking at his back.                                   .. and then everything went quiet for a while.

Your eyes felt heavy when you woke up. You weren’t out for long, it was still early into the night, the moon still shone in the same place as when you and Shouto were- oh.“Hi, sleepyhead.” You jumped slightly as the voice beside you, groggy and yet still full of love. Shouto’s hair is a mess, just like yours. Instead of speaking, you instead decided to nuzzle your face into his neck, and he replied with a hum. He kissed your forehead and stroked your back, it couldn’t be any better than this. All those years of isolation and abandonment, you have finally found something good, someone good in your life. You couldn’t bear to see him leave you.

Shouto was about half asleep when his ears perked up to the sound of someone sniveling, it was you. You were crying, in his arms. He pulled your face out, as it was still buried in his neck, and examined your watery eyes and red puffy cheeks with a frown on his face.

“Please… don’t leave me.”

He smiled softly at you, kissing your tears away. “I won’t ever leave you, I promise.”

With that, you both fell asleep. Even though you were a cow, you were still a girl. You had at least half the mind to think of girly things, which included dreaming of what you and Shouto’s kids would look like, and what you would name them. 

[starlost-maniac]

I Slept with My Boss - Ch 4

Warnings/genre: SMUT, piv, pia, protected sex, one night stand, mxf, mxm, multiple orgasms, multiple partners, club/drinks, voyeurism, pet names, daddy kink, double pen, oral, color system, squirting

Pairing: ot8 SKZ x fem!reader

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS, DNI

dividers made by @cafekitsune

It was a week and a half until you started the new job. You couldn't sleep as you were starting to get nervous. You were told you were going to be working as one of the CEOs personal secretary. You look at your phone, 2:07 am is what it reads. You sigh and open your phone.

You remembered Yoonae said something about the gym she sent you being open 24/7. You open your map to see how far it is from you. Seeing it wasn't too far of a drive, you get up and get changed into your workout clothes and pack a bag to shower afterward.

——

You step inside the gym, looking around, and you see only one other person inside. It's quiet enough that you can just barely hear his music. You go into the locker room and put your bag inside one of the open lockers, locking it after shutting it. You head back out to the gym, the lone patron was doing deadlifts. He nods at you when you walk past to go to the treadmills. You nod back, a soft smile on your face. He was very attractive and very muscular.

He watches as you walk past, curious about the new attractive patron in the gym. He watches you for a few minutes, seeing your eyes flick over to him a few times. You look away, flustered every time your eyes meet. He chuckles quietly before his eyes flick to the door when someone else walks in. His smile widens more as they walk over to where the patron stands.

You watch as the first guy carefully puts the weights down, the second guy waiting patiently. The second guy had a short buzz cut, his hair reminding you of a kiwi. He smiles at the shorter gentleman and gives him a hug and a quick peck on the lips. You're honestly a bit disappointed. Both at both attractive men being taken, and the chance of them being unavailable.

You sigh and walk on the treadmill for about 30 minutes before getting off to do another workout. You don't notice that both men were watching you, talking about how attractive you were. The taller of the two slowly makes his way over to you, sitting on the bench next to the machine you were using. He flashes you a smile.

"Hi. I see you're new to the gym. I'm Hyunjin, and my friend over there is Changbin." He puts his hand out for a handshake. You reach out and shake his hand.

"I'm Y/n. It's nice to meet you, and yeah. I am new to this one. My last gym wasn't very friendly." You take your hand back. You didn't miss that he said friend, but it's not your business to pry. He frowns when he hears about the previous gym.

"I'm sorry about that. I do hope this one is a lot better. Changbin personally screens each applicant before approving anyone to get a membership." He smiles at you again. "And I do hope I'm not being too forward with this, but we both find you very attractive and were wondering if you'd like to get a drink sometime? Maybe have a little fun if you weren't seeing anyone?" He points to his neck, indicating the fading hickies on your skin. Your cheeks flush a bit.

"Oh, um. I'm not seeing anyone currently. These were.." You get flustered. Yoonae has definitely gotten to you with these one night stands.

"No need to explain." He puts his hands up. "How does tomorrow night sound? He lives right upstairs from the gym. Maybe we can make you dinner too?" He grins. You look over at the gym owner. He looked all shy now. It was honestly really cute. You give him a soft smile before looking back at the gentleman next to you.

"That sounds nice. Should I meet one of you outside?"

"I'll meet you outside and bring you up." He winks.

"Ok, sounds like a plan." You smile. You and him talk for a bit during your exercise. He eventually gets Changbin to come over and properly introduces him. You all talk about tomorrow's plans and what to eat. You ultimately let them decide, but they insist on something that you'd like since they're inviting you over.

Once it's all settled, Changbin offers to help you with any of the exercises that you needed help with, being a little touchy when he needed to be.

It was over 2 hours before you finally got to shower, Hyunjin wanting to join you, but didn't want to scare you off. You dried off and dressed in your normal clothes. The clock on your phone reads 6 am. Changbin and Hyunjin were standing by the check-in desk, talking. Changbin had his arm around Hyunjin's waist with Hyunjin's over Changbin's shoulder. They both smiled when they saw you. They walk you out to your car just as other patrons start to come in for their morning workout. You thanked them both before getting into your car, driving home to get some sleep.

——

You arrived at the gym, parking in front of the mostly empty gym 10 minutes before Hyunjin said to meet you. You step out of your car just as Hyunjin comes down the outside stairs attached to the building. He smiles and walks over to you.

"Hi, Y/n. I'm really happy you showed up. Changbin is, too. He's upstairs finishing up dinner." He reaches out to take your hand. You're a bit hesitant, but put your hand in his. "I promise we won't do anything you aren't comfortable with. If you want us to stop anything we are doing, we will. If you want to leave early, that's ok." He sounded genuine as he led you up the stairs to Changbin's residence above his gym.

Opening the door, Hyunjin steps inside, shutting the door behind you. He grabs a pair of house slippers for you, setting them in front of you.

"I hope these fit." He mumbles to himself as you take your shoes off. You slide your feet into the slippers, seeing him smile when they fit. You tuck your shoes away as he puts his own slippers on. He leads you to the kitchen where Changbin was just pulling the food out of the oven. He sets the pan on the stove top, shutting the oven door.

"Hyung, look who's here." Hyunjin calls out. Changbin turns around, his hair a dark mess of curls on top of his head, thick dark rimmed glasses sit on top of his nose. He smiles wide at you and walks over. He embraces you in a gentle hug.

"I'm so glad that you came." He pulls back from the hug. "Go sit at the table. Hyunjin and I will finish getting things set." He watches you for a moment before going back to the food. You go and sit at the table as Hyunjin grabs glasses and as Changbin brings over plates of the food. You thank them both, waiting for them to sit before you start eating. Hyunjin pours glasses of wine, asking if you'd like a cup, not sure if you'd be staying or not. When you accept, he pours your cup for you.

You all converse as you eat, both men making you feel very comfortable and safe. Hyunjin takes your plate and gets you a second serving when you said it was really good. You thank him and finish it off, sipping at your wine. When you're all finished, Changbin cleans up and tells Hyunjin to sit in the living room with you and he'll be out soon.

As soon as he sat on the couch, he pulled you down into his lap. Your cheeks flushed at the action. He lays his arms around your waist, fingers interlocking on your hip. He just smiles at you.

"You're really cute when you're flustered." He chuckles as your cheeks turn more red. "Are you ok with us continuing like this?" He asks, not wanting ro make you uncomfortable. When you nod, he smiles softly, leaning down to softly kiss your cleavage, one of your arms going over his shoulders.

"Your skin is very soft, Y/n." He whispers against you. He gently nips your collarbone before kissing back down to your cleavage. One of his hands slipped under the fabric of your shirt, fingertips gently grazing your skin. You shiver at his touch as he sends goosebumps across your skin.

"You started without me, Hyunjin?" Changbin playfully pouts as he walks over. You both look up at him, Hyunjin still nipping at your skin softly. The dark haired man smiles at you once he's standing next to you. Leaning down, he gently cups your cheek and kisses you briefly. "You taste so sweet. Such soft lips." He kisses you again as Hyunjin slips a finger into your cleavage, pulling your shirt down some to kiss more of your breasts. You moan softly into Changbin's mouth.

Hyunjin starts to lift your shirt up off of you, Changbin pulling away momentarily to finish taking your shirt off. Hyunjin quickly undoes your bra and tosses it to where Changbin dropped your shirt. Both men pull away from you to look you over, your cheeks turning red again. Hyunjin starts to play with the hem of your pants before he starts to slide them down off you, Changbin helps lift you some, getting your pants and panties off. You can feel Hyunjin's bulge through his pants.

Changbin takes his shirt off, adding it to the pile of yours, and you can't help but stare at his muscles. He chuckles, a soft smile playing on his lips.

"You like what you see, bunny?" He flexes a bit. Both you and Hyunjin respond, making Changbin laugh. "I know you do, Hyune, I was talking to our guest." Hyunjin lets out a soft 'oh' before kissing along the side of your breast before licking your nipple. You moan softly, making both boys groan. Changbin kneels between Hyunjin's legs, now beside you and softly places kisses along your breast before placing your nipple between his lips. He looks up at you through his lashes as he lightly sucks on the hardening bud.

You blush lightly again as your arm wraps around his shoulders. Hyunjin licks your nipple again while Changbin slips his hand down between your legs, his fingers a little rough as he touches your clit. You shiver as you moan, head falling back, eyes closed. Both boys chuckle as they slowly make you fall apart. Changbin continues to circle your sensitive nub as Hyunjin slips a long finger into your wet entrance.

"So wet, hyung.." Hyunjin whispers against your nipple. You squirm under their touch a bit, Hyunjin adding two fingers immediately making you arch your back. Changbin rubs your clit a little faster.

"Can you cum for us, bunny? We wanna make you feel good." Changbin nibbles on your skin. Almost as if on command, your cunt clenches around Hyunjin's fingers as you cum. He keeps fingering you through your high, taking his fingers out as you come down. He licks his fingers clean, eyes flicking between you and Changbin.

The shorter of the two stands back up, grabbing a condom from the coffee table. He takes his pants and boxers off, sitting next to Hyunjin.

"Are you ready for more, bunny?" He waits to open the wrapper. You nod, whispering a 'yeah'. Changbin smiles and opens the condom, rolling it onto his length. Hyunjin helps you straddle his hyung's lap, lowering you onto him. Changbin was thick, stretching you out quite a bit. You gasp and moan loudly, hands gripping his shoulders as you sit entirely on him. They let you adjust, Changbin putting his hands on your hips, thumbs making small circles on your skin.

"You're doing great, honey." Hyunjin leans down to place soft kisses across your shoulders. Once you were sure you were ready, you slowly started to move your hips. Changbin let soft moans slip out.

"You're so nice and tight, bunny." He moans out more, helping guide your hips. You arch your back and Changbin takes the opportunity to latch onto your breast, biting and sucking marks into your skin. One of your hands moves from his shoulder to his head. He groans as you ride him. He wraps his arms around you and carefully moves you both so you're laying on the couch. He puts your ankles up on his shoulders and leans forward, carefully bending you in half so he goes deeper. He places one hand back on your hip, the other on the arm of the couch.

He slowly fucks into you, getting a nice rhythm going before he picks up his pace. He's soon ramming into you hard and deep, making you moan out in pleasure. Your hands grip his biceps, Hyunjin reaching between your bodies to rub your clit. Both men coo at you as they watch you come apart on Changbin's cock. Soon your orgasm escapes you and you're clenching hard around him, arching your back.

"Almost there, bunny. Just hold on a bit longer for me." Changbin fucks into you as fast as he can through your high before he's releasing into the condom, cock twitching repeatedly inside you. He sits up, unfolding you and carefully brings your legs down from his shoulder. Hyunjin leans down and softly kisses your lips and cheeks. You smile up at the boys looking fucked out.

"You ok there, honey?" Hyunjin asks softly. You nod, still smiling. Changbin slowly slides out and you whine at the emptiness. "Don't worry, I'll fill you up next." He chuckles as he carefully picks you up and wraps your legs around his waist. You're not sure when he got naked or put a condom on. He carefully slips his cock into you while standing. Holding onto the backs of your thighs, he holds you up while you adjust to him. He wasn't as thick as Changbin, but he still filled you nicely.

"How are you still so tight, honey?" He groans when you clench. He starts to slowly bounce you on his cock, groaning into your ear. "You are a package, you know that? Beautiful, delicious and still tight after taking Changbin." He thrusts into you the same time he was bringing you down onto him. He places wet, open mouth kisses along your neck and throat, going along your collarbone as well. He grunts and groans every time you clench around him. He coos at you when you whimper between moans.

Changbin comes up behind you and holds your legs for Hyunjin, letting the other fuck into you without needing to hold you himself, he kept his hands on your ass for extra support however. You moan and arch your back, feeling the knot in your belly tighten quickly. Changbin bites and sucks on your neck and shoulder. His breath sends chills across your skin. You cum hard around Hyunjin, who watches as his dick disappears inside you. He mumbles out a 'fuck' as he keeps fucking into you, reaching up to rub your clit.

"One more before I cum, honey, ok?" He says. You nod, brain foggy, moaning more. You can't form any coherent words right now. You arch and squirm as Hyunjin manages to pull another orgasm from you. Even after your orgasm, he's still fucking into you and rubbing your clit. He sucks on your nipple as he thrusts deep into you before cumming into his condom. Groaning as he slides out, he lets go of your nipple so Changbin can set you back on the couch.

"How do you feel, bunny? You ok?" He brushes sweaty hair off your face. You smile up at him.

"I'm ok. Little sore, but I'm ok." You let your head rest on the back of the couch as he gently massages your thighs. Hyunjin leaves to get water and a clean rag, Changbin helping to clean you as Hyunjin has you drink the water.

"I'm sorry if we were rough, bunny." Changbin pecks your lips.

"Mm-mm. You weren't rough. It's ok." You smile, sleepily.

"Did you want to stay here tonight? You're tired and drank a bit, so I'd honestly feel better if you stayed here. I can even wash your clothes for you." Changbin brushed his knuckles down your cheek gently and you nod a little, sleepy. He smiles softly and looks up at Hyunjin. "Could you take her to my bed, jagi? I'll toss our clothes in the wash and get it ready to start in the morning."

Hyunjin nods, leaning down to give Changbin a kiss, he gently picks you up bridal style. You lay your head on his shoulder and close your eyes. Hyunjin carefully lays you down on the bed and covers you. He stands up and starts to turn but stops when he feels you sleepily holding onto his hand. He chuckles and climbs under the covers with you. He cuddles up to you and you wrap your arms around him. His fuzzy hair soft against your skin.

Changbin comes in a few minutes later and smiles, seeing you passed out with Hyunjin's face buried in your chest. He gets into the bed behind you, pressing himself right against you. Placing a few soft kisses to your head, neck and shoulder, he gets comfortable before falling asleep.

——

Waking up the next day, you found Hyunjin still naked, cuddled into you, head on your breasts as his fingers drew lazy images across your skin. Changbin was at the end of the bed, wearing just basketball shorts, neatly folding your laundry, having washed and dried it for you before you woke. When he sees you, he flashes you a shy smile.

"Hi, bunny. How are you feeling?" He gently places your clean clothes on his bedside table for you, sitting on the bed. You rub your eyes, and yawn.

"Still a bit tired, not as sore though." You chuckle quietly. Changbin nods and leans down, gently kissing your forehead then kissing Hyunjin's temple.

"How about a shower? I'm sure you'd like one after last night's…activities." He grins playfully. Hyunjin wraps his arm around you and pulls you closer to him, accidentally pressing his half hard cock between your legs.

"I don't want to let go just yet.." Hyunjin says, muffled against your skin.

"We can't keep her here, Hyune. I'm sure she has things she needs to do today too." His eyes flick from you to Hyunjin before going back to you. You smile softly and rub Hyunjin's back. He looks up at you with puppy dog eyes.

"Can we have a little more fun then? Before you go?" He pouts. You groan playfully before agreeing. They both smile and help you up, deciding to shower with you, continuing last night's activities there.

——

It was the first day of your new job. Yoonae texted you to wish you a good day. You had your hair tied up in a low ponytail. Wearing a business suit with a skirt that didn't restrict movement too much, you made your way into the company you now work for. Greeting the receptionist, she gave you your new employee badge and instructed you to take the elevator to the top floor, where the CEO's office is.

You made your way up, meeting with the person from HR who did your interview. They greet you and explain that the boss is running a bit late, but will be here soon. You nod and thank him. You talk for a bit until you hear the elevator ding and the doors open. You both bow to the man who steps off the elevator. The person from HR straightens first.

"Sir, this is Y/n. She's the one we brought on as your personal assistant. I know you haven't looked her file over yet," he teases the CEO, "but she was the most qualified, and I think she would be a perfect fit." He smiles. When you straighten, your eyes go wide as you see who's in front of you.

Taglist:

@honeyybbuubblleess @gnabnahcbby @skzittomebabyuhhuhx3 @kenia4 @sweetprincessleah

[the-froschamethyst4]

could u write smth about being out with Simon and a guy is hitting on reader?

Either watch the Hand or lose the Hand

𖤐Pairing: Husband! Ghost x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: fluff, hints of smut, harsh language, protective Ghost, creepy men, kissing, married couple, harassment, some perverted comments,

𖤐summary: Ghost and Y/n need to go to the store for a few things but when Y/n is on her own and Ghost is trying to find the other things on Y/n's list, but he comes back a creepy man is flirting with Y/n

————

————

"Come on baby! We have to go!" Ghost yells for his wife from the bottom of the stairs.

"Chill, I'm taking my time, the store isn't going to grow legs and leave." Y/n giggles at her husband.

"You never know, and I want to get there before all the weird people come out."

"What's considered weird to you Ghost?" She asked, getting her sandals on and grabbing her purse to complete her outfit. Ghost placed his hands on her waist of her sundress and kissed her temple.

"I'm talking about the weird so-called single mothers that always hit on me," Ghost says, opening the front door for Y/n.

---------

Ghost grabbed a cart pushing it as Y/n locked her arm with his as they looked down at the list. Y/n and Ghost had a family cook out they were going to this Saturday, but they were also out of a few things.

Y/n wanted to make a fruit salad, and some cookies and brownies as a sweet treat. Ghost pushed the cart as Y/n was going over the list on what she needs. Ghost takes the list from her and memorized the things she needed.

"Why don't I go the stuff to make your homemade brownies and cookies and you worry about the fruit, okay?"

"Are you sure? It's a lot of things, Si."

"I know, I know, I can do it, I know what you need," Ghost says.

"Okay, get everything."

"I will," he kissed her lips before going to the baking section leaving Y/n on her own. She had grabbed strawberries, blueberries, grapes, kiwis, raspberries and more.

"You should get bananas if you like fruit." Y/n stopped what she was doing and turned around, she knew it wasn't Ghost, but she felt uncomfortable with that sort of comment.

"Excuse me?" She asked.

"If you like fruit, get some bananas."

"Are you suggesting that because I'm a woman and 'knows' how to handle a 'banana' or you are just saying that cause you think you're funny?"

"Honey, I know I'm funny, that's why I suggested it, you could handle my banana anytime," Y/n gave a disgusted look on her face and walked away. She hates bananas and for this type of reason as well, she doesn't even eat bananas around her own husband.

"Hey, now, I wanna keep talking."

"Well, I don't wanna talk to you," she says, walking away.

"Come on, now, I'm sorry about the comment...I like your dress...you single?"

"Married?" Y/n says.

"Oh damn, well, he doesn't have to know-"

"Actually he will," Ghost comes up past him placing the baked goods in her cart. "And yeah, that dress also looks better on the floor," he smirks, placing his arm on her waist and they walked away from the creepy guy.

----------

Ghost and Y/n were now in the frozen section and the same guy was in the aisle, maybe he will leave Y/n alone getting the hint that Ghost is her husband and to leave her alone.

The guy was looking in the freezers 'looking' for something.

"Which one, love?" Ghost asked.

"The chicken, get chicken," she says, leaning on the cart, Ghost opens the freezer turning his back to her. The creep then shines his phone under Y/n's skirt.

She didn't notice. Ghost turns back around and the creep had moved away from Y/n, but Ghost caught it. He places the frozen meat into the cart and marches to the guy.

"Simon?"

Ghost grabs the creeps wrist, he drops his phone on the ground and Ghost grabs it off the floor, the creeps is wallowing in pain and his knees landed on the floor. Ghost opened his photos and saw a few pictures of Y/n's underskirt and a short video as well.

"You takin' photos of my wife!?" Ghost was pissed, seeing red pissed. Y/n had pushed the cart next to Ghost, he shows her the photos and video. She gasps and takes the phone from Ghost seeing more underskirt photos of different women.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Y/n asked.

"I think you're really pretty."

"You are fucking disgusting," Ghost then starts dragging the creep. Ghost drags him to the front of the store knocking on a door labeled 'Security'

The door opens and Ghost basically tosses the guy inside the office.

"He's taking underskirt photos of women and he got my wife," Ghost says.

"We caught him doing it to another woman, we called the police, it's good to know the police won't go on a wild goose chase to get this guy."

Ghost heads back to his wife, she looks at him a bit worried.

"Is he gone?"

"They already called the police because they caught him doing it to other women, I just made their job easier by dragging his creepy ass up there," he says, he puts his hand on her waist and they went to go pay for their stuff.

----------

Ghost and Y/n were home, and Ghost was putting everything away in their certain spots. Ghost placed the chicken on the counter and was going to prep it for dinner tonight.

Y/n was cutting veggies, once Ghost was done, he moves over to Y/n placing his hand on her butt giving her a lovingly squeeze and kissing her temple.

"You okay?" he asked her.

"I've just never had anything like that happen to me before...not even when I was in High school with dumb jocks, no one has ever done that to me before...I don't know, how I feel," she says, leaning on Ghost.

"I understand," he says.

Ghost watches as she cuts the vegetables he grabs her hands taking the knife from her hands, he made her wrap her arms around his waist and hugged her, rubbing her back.

"Your hugs are the best," she says, snuggling her face into his chest.

"Only for you...you are quite literally the only person I hug because you deserve it," he says, kissing the top of her head.

Y/n looks up at him, her chin on his chest. His hand ran through her hair, and kissed her lips.

"For now on, to make you feel comfortable I can go to the store for you or I can come with you everywhere."

"I wouldn't mind that," she says, burying her face in his chest.

[heartstringsduet]

Happy Wednesday <3 Have some early cheesy flirting. Thanks for the tags @whatsintheboxmh and @paperstorm ♥️

TK smirks at the way Carlos’ hand tightened on his arm. “Down, boy. He’s not exactly barking up the right tree.”

“Funnily enough, he used to flirt with me when I came in the past weeks.”

TK laughs, gripping the hand over his back. “Oh, so you’re jealous because you want Emmett all to yourself?”

“No. I don’t like him barking up a tree I’m circling.”

He enjoys to hear the hitch in TK’s breath and watch his pupils dilate. A part of him waits to be put in his place for being so presumptuous but TK’s hand relaxes back under his and lets the weight of Carlos’ settle it.

TK’s eyes are heavy as they trail up to Carlos’ face. “I don’t want to presume anything, but when you came to the creak the first night--”

His stomach instantly drops. “God, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how I ended up all the way there.”

Carlos startles when TK’s hand grips his arm now, mirrors the stroke his thumb had made. He braces for TK telling him how pathetic he was that not only did he prance after him the night they met, but then stalked him a night after like a creep who didn’t get the memo that TK is only looking for something casual.

Instead, TK says, “I think you were lonely and looked for something familiar. I get wanting to break away from your family and I don’t know how many months you've been away from them, but we’re not made to be alone. Especially when the moon is full.” OPEN TAG &

@paperstorm @lemonlyman-dotcom @eclectic-sassycoweyes @carlos-in-glasses

@welcometololaland @rmd-writes @liminalmemories21 @lightningboltreader

@nancys-braids @pimento-playing-hopscotch @literateowl @nisbanisba

@reyesstrand @emsprovisions @sapphic--kiwi @butchreyes @certifiedflower

@firstprince-history-huh @irispurpurea @pameluke @carlos-tk

@carlossreaders @everlastingday @alrightbuckaroo @thisbuildinghasfeelings

@theghostofashton @ladytessa74 @bonheur-cafe @orchidscript

@honeybee-taskforce @butchreyes @decafdino @henrygrass

@tellmegoodbye @ironheartwriter

[therhythmafterthesummer]

IBDIJEUIDJBEYAI

I JUST HAD A BIG BRAIN MOMENT!!

Kitten surprising Min with her old school uniform and a lil role play. His mind is racing from the skirt and the memories and he can like touch her how he always imagined her

-🥝

you're so absolutely right, kiwi. this was a humongous brain moment.

i've had this ask in my inbox since mid-august bc i just had to write something I HAD TO since it stirred something within me. thankfully, i recently figured out how i wanted to go about this, and finally got to writing it💜

Pairing: Werewolf!Minho x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series, but you probably don’t really need to read any of the other instalments to understand this one, although it's highly recommended!). | Word Count: ~3k | Themes & Warnings: Supernatural/Fantasy AU · Smut · Fluff · Established Relationship · role-playing as high schoolers (disclaimer: they’re both consenting adults fulfilling fantasies of their past, neither are genuinely attracted to minors in any way) · nipple play · unprotected penetration [piv. no barrier method, but reader is on birth control] · a smidge of a breeding kink · cumshot · barely proof-read as it usually is with these “drabbles”...

minors do not interact.

“Min–Minho…”

Oh, how sweet you sounded when you said his name like that… It was just how he’d dreamt it’d be. He’d heard you before, of course. But not in this situation, in this particular setting…

“My dad could be home anytime now–Oh, shit…” Your words got caught in your throat the second he bit one of your nipples. How could he not, when you were on his lap, with your uniform shirt open, and your bra just down enough for him to play with your chest.

“Shh, it’ll be fine, kitten”, Minho mumbled against the swell of your breast, leaving a love bite that he hoped would be visible when you wore one of your low tops. “If he were to come home, you know he doesn’t bother us when we’re doing our homework…”

You whined as soon as his mouth reattached to your nipple, as he gently rolled the other between his thumb and index finger… Your hands buried in his hair, keeping him close while you rolled your hips to find some friction against his crotch. The pressure had his mouth salivating further, borderline drooling all over your nipple like the dog he’d recently become.

Or, at least, in this fantasy, he had probably been turned a few years prior…

When you and Minho had come to your father’s house today to help him clean up some of your old stuff from your childhood room, Minho certainly hadn’t expected for the afternoon to take him right here. To him sitting on the edge of your bed, dressed in his school uniform, with you sitting on his lap, and dressed in your school uniform.

It had been such an impromptu thing… You found the pieces of clothing at the bottom of your dresser, forgotten from the last time you wore them in your final year. Back then, you always kept a spare change of Minho’s uniform for those nights when he unexpectedly stayed over.

‘Ohhhh, you should put it on. I used to love how the uniform looked on you’, you’d told him as you handed him the dress shirt with the school’s logo on it, and the white vest top he used to wear under it.

‘Alright, but only if you put on yours. The whole thing. I also loved how you looked in that uniform’, he’d told you immediately, because it was the truth. That plaid skirt and the white button-up used to make stellar appearances in his teenage-hormones-driven wet dreams. 

He used to feel embarrassed about it. You were his best friend in this world, and the fact that he found himself daydreaming of how it’d look like if he took a peek under your skirt, or how it’d feel if he buried his face in your cleavage, certainly made him feel guilty.

Now, as an adult well into his twenties, after you both shared your affections, he no longer felt as guilty about it. Especially after learning that you yourself had those thoughts about him back then, too.

When you put on that uniform shy of fifteen minutes ago, Minho was reminded of all those thoughts he used to have, of all the sleepless nights and hidden chubs at school… It hit him then that maybe this was exactly why he loved seeing you in skirts so much in present day. A result of his teenage-self’s never fulfilled desires.

Sure, he couldn’t button his shirt since his shoulders and arms had broadened with age, and your skirt was certainly much shorter than it used to be, but that didn’t stop either of you from falling into your roles.

‘Mmm… It’s almost like we have just come back from school and are getting ready to get some work done’, you chuckled as you looked at yourself in the mirror and adjusted your thigh high socks.

That sentence alone lit up the bulb in his head, it sparked a naughty little idea that he knew you’d either entertain or laugh about. Either result was fine by him, so he had no qualms when he walked behind you, and looked at you through the mirror.

Calling your name as he placed his hands on your waist, Minho had asked you to turn around to face him. ‘There’s… there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for so long… Please don’t be mad…’

Minho feigned nervousness, like he was once again that boy that had seemingly unrequited feelings for his best friend.

‘I really, really like you… Can’t stop thinking about you. How’d it be like to kiss you, to feel you close in ways other than platonic. You’re my best friend, and I cherish that deeply, but I just… I like you so much’, funny thing, how those were pretty much the same words he’d wanted to say to you back then. Words he had practised in front of the mirror a few times, but he was always too much of a coward to actually tell you.

You looked at him in what Minho figured was feigned shock. Oh, how he loved you… You just knew him so well, and knew exactly what he was doing without saying a single word. ‘I… I like you, too. Have liked you for so long, Minho…’

Minho had cupped your cheeks and pulled you in for a kiss. He kissed you as if he’d never done it before, desperately, hungrily, no time for being tender and soft when all he’d wanted was to devour you whole. And you had retaliated, of course. You’d pulled him close by the collar of his shirt and pressed your chest to his, kissing him with fervour.

‘Even if I’m… If I’m now…’ A beast, was what he wanted to say as he spoke between kisses. Minho had maybe fallen a little too well into this role of his younger self. He could still remember how insecure he used to be about his condition, how he looked down on himself after being infected with this goddamn lycanthropy… Those were feelings that no longer existed within him, he had now long since accepted this was part of him. If anything, with time, he’d embraced it. 

‘I’d like you even if… Even if you were a worm’, you replied simply, making him giggle, which in turn made you giggle.

Minho scooped you into his arms after that, and he walked the remaining steps to your childhood bed so he could sit on it with you on his lap. In no time, he was groping you over your shirt, under your skirt, and you had started to beg for him to touch you more.

His instincts were stunted, you knew that, he knew that, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have this animal side to him. Sometimes, especially when he was horny, that animalistic side of him took over his logical mind, and, back when he was a teen, he could recall having a harder time with certain feelings and emotions like these. So, he let them cloud his reason a bit as he fulfilled this little fantasy of his…

Minho ripped your shirt open, the buttons flew all over your room, and you gasped when he buried his head between your breasts. The thing was also a bit too tight on you, so he was sure you wouldn’t miss the garment if it got ripped a bit in the process.

You scrambled to take a hold of his hands, bringing them to your chest so he could fondle you over your bra, once again begging him to touch you. To ‘Please, please, Minho, touch me. I need it. I need you…’

And he was sure his cock was about to pop out of his jeans with how hard it got at your desperation.

So here you were, grinding into each other, on your childhood bed while Minho feasted on your tits.

“Fuck, that feels so good, baby. Harder. Do it harder…” 

How could he deny you when you sounded so needy? When he’d wanted to do this for so long? 

He bit harder, pinched harder, pulling strangled sounds of pleasure out of your lips. The more attention he gave to your chest, the more you rolled your hips against him, effectively pulling sounds of pleasure out of his lips.

His senses were flooded by you. The smell of your arousal on your lavender scent, your weight of him, the taste of your skin on his tongue, all combined had him almost delirious, especially when his free hand found its way under that godforsaken skirt of yours to tightly grope one of your buttocks.

“Baby, I think I’m… I might…”

Fuck, if you came just from him playing with your chest and you grinding your cunt on the tent in his jeans, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to contain himself. Although, he supposed coming in his underwear would’ve been a very accurate representation of what would’ve happened if his teenage self had ever had the opportunity to have you on him like this…

Minho couldn’t help but groan when you tightened your grip on his hair, when you started to roll your hips faster, harder… God, all he wanted right now was for the girl of his dreams to come, he needed to feel you trembling in his hold, to drown in your scent so he could convince himself this was happening.

Seeing you come, holding you tight while you did, was just absolutely delightful. You bit on your fist to keep your moans contained, while your whole body shook with your release.

Minho had to make the conscious effort not to blow right then and there. He was sure that if this had happened back when you were still that young, he would’ve certainly done so. He imagined that this would’ve probably been your first sexual experience together, that you’d laugh about how he soiled his underwear and how needy you’d been, before you laid down and cuddled for a bit…

Maybe you would’ve had sex a different time, on a different day where you were sure your dad wouldn’t come back home… But this wasn’t about being fully realistic, this was about having fun while fulfilling a shared fantasy.

“Fuck, Minho, baby, stop… I’m sore…”

Minho finally pulled himself away from your chest, mumbling a very unconvincing ‘Sorry’ before he attached his lips to the pulse point on your neck, relishing how fast your blood was pumping in your veins.

“You’re so fucking hot, my kitten. I’ve been dreaming of this moment, y’know?” He mumbled in your ear, taking one of your breasts in his hand to fondle the flesh, with special care to not stimulate your nipple too much.

“Me too, baby…” You were still trembling occasionally within his arms, taking deep breaths to get your racing heart to slow down inside your chest. “I’ve wanted this so bad… Even… Even touched myself thinking about it”.

“Mmm, fuck…” Minho started sucking love bites on your neck, following this faint need in his gut to leave his mark on you. “Have you?”

“I have… Sometimes, I did it while we slept in the same room”.

Minho wasn’t sure if this was you playing your fantasy, or if this was a real thing that happened, but, being honest, it didn’t matter. It made his mind disconnect completely as soon as the words came out of your mouth regardless.

Before he could even register it himself, he had stood up and thrown you on the bed, eliciting a shaky, surprised gasp from your lips. In a second, he was on you, kissing you hard, messily, even desperately. Your limbs wrapped around him, your arms around his neck, and your legs around his middle, bringing him further down to lay flush against you in your heated kiss.

He was dizzy, lightheaded, and for a second, he almost believed he was in the past, that he was making out with you on your bed after school, that he was about to lose his virginity to his best friend.

“Fuck, I need to put it in…” Minho barely detached his lips from yours while he spoke, just kept messily kissing you between words as he ground his hips to your core. “Please, please let me put it in… Need you…”

“We–we need a condom, Min”, your hands found their way under his top, where they settled to caress his back, making him shiver. “I don’t have any here”.

“Fuck, I don’t have any, either”, Minho left your lips to instead attach his own to your collarbones, to nibble on the sensitive skin, making you whine. “I’ll pull out. I got quick reflexes, it’ll be fine, please…”

He certainly was playing into this horny-teenage-boy thing all too well. Although, he was sure his younger self wouldn’t have been this stupid to believe just ‘pulling out’ would be an effective contraceptive, and surely neither would you. After all, back then, your dad made sure you both knew about being safe, which Minho was grateful for to this day. 

Regardless, the very real implant you had in your arm made it so he could play like this, so you both could play like this.

“Shit, you’ll pull out?” Your hands trembled when they found his backside and squeezed him. “You would, wouldn’t you?”

“Promise, kitten. Cross my heart”.

One of your hands left his bum to move to his crotch, where you cupped and squeezed him and overall felt him over the fabric of his jeans. He couldn’t help but buck his hips to let you feel as much as you could of him. “Fuck, okay. But Min… I’m not sure this will fit…”

“It will. I’m sure it will. It has to. You trust me, no?”

With a deep breath, biting your lip, you nodded. “Trust you with my life”. 

When Minho pulled himself away from your hold, he just had to tell you how fucking gorgeous you looked with your hair all messy, your tits out, your ripped shirt, and that fucking skirt… The hem pooled on your belly, exposing your underwear and the mouth-watering wet-patch on them.

God, he wanted a taste… But there wasn’t enough time for that right now.

Minho hastily unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them and his underwear down just enough to free his length. You swore under your breath, taking him into your hand and spreading the pre-cum that had beaded at the tip so you could easily stroke him. 

“Baby, please…” You guided him to your core. With your free hand, you pulled your underwear to the side, and dragged the tip of his cock all over your folds. “Need it. Need you, Minho…”

One day you’d be the death of him, he was sure. 

Under normal circumstances, Minho would’ve stretched you open with his fingers, he would’ve made sure you were absolutely ready to take that annoyingly big alpha cock of his. But he figured skipping the step would be a bit more… in character.

“Oh, fuck, fuck…” Minho pushed himself into your heat slowly, letting your walls adjust to his length with what he hoped wasn’t much discomfort. He knew that if there had been any, you would’ve said the word that would immediately stop everything you were doing. “That’s so fucking tight…”

You whined, not necessarily in discomfort, but in that way that made him know you were feeling impatient. Wrapping your legs around his hips, you tried to push on his backside to get him to get in already. “Please, I need it all. Now”.

“Shit–!” As soon as Minho bottomed out and had propped himself on his forearms, you took a hold of his hair and pulled him down for a messy kiss.

There was just so much spit. Everything was so sloppy and messy and he was honestly enjoying it way more than he ever thought he would.

“Fuck, you’re so hard… Can’t believe you fit”, you mumbled breathlessly against his lips, releasing his hair to place your hands on his back.

“Didn’t doubt–Shit, if you keep clenching like that I’ll come, kitten… Didn’t doubt I’d fit right in. Isn’t this cunt for me? Hm? Hasn’t it always been?” Minho didn’t even give you time to respond, he just started to thrust, a borderline animalistic pace that had you biting on his shoulder to muffle your moans.

There was nothing but heavy breaths and desperate groans and whines and moans… Nothing but the sound of skin slapping against skin and the headboard hitting the wall and your nails sinking on his clothed back…

Minho vaguely realised he was growling with each thrust. Like an animal. He was making all these sounds like the animal he was. And every time he did, your body just immediately reacted. Either by clawing at his back, or biting harder on his shoulder, or clamping hard around his length…

It was honestly driving him crazy. It reminded him that, ultimately, you accepted him, that you loved him just as he was. What an odd, but pleasant reflexion to make when you both were fucking, and pretending to be your teenage selves at that.

“It–It is”, you meekly mumbled after a while, and Minho, a bit puzzled, pulled himself away from your neck to look you in the eyes. “It’s yours. Has always been. I’ve always been”.

Minho swore loudly, throwing his head back once your words registered properly in his hazy mind. Your cunt was his, you were his. You’ve always been…

That reassurance, coupled with the vice grip of your walls, got him so incredibly close…

“Fuck, kitten, gonna come. Need to–need to pull out”, Minho was panting, drunk on the pleasure he was feeling and the fog clouding his reason.

Your legs tightened around his frame, keeping him as close as you could while he kept thrusting into you. “What if–What if you don’t?”

“Oh, God… Don’t say that…”

“Why? What if I want your puppies? Hm?”

He was going to die. Minho was sure he was seeing the gates of heaven open up right in front of him.

“C–can’t. We can’t…” Shaking his head, Minho tried his best to hold back, a titanic effort with how fucking good you were making him feel, with how fucking in love with you he was.

“Can’t…?” There was a pout on your lips, highlighted by your blown pupils, and Minho, once again, shook his head in response.

Minho just desperately shook his head. “Kitten, baby, please…”

The hold of your legs relented. Minho immediately straightened himself and pulled out of your warmth to take his cock in one of his hands while the other gripped your hip tightly. One, two pumps and he was groaning deeply, coming all over your underwear, over your mound and your now only partially exposed folds.

The sight was nothing short of exquisite. Your wrinkled, open shirt, your tits still falling out of your bra, with your nipples slightly puffy after all the attention Minho had given them, the skirt hunched at your waist, and your underwear drenched in his cum… 

Minho felt light, satisfied, and, as he tried to catch his breath, he just took you in.

After a few moments of silence–silence, save for the sound of your heavy breathing and the ringing in his ears–a grin made its way to your face, and, a second after, you broke into laughter. It made him laugh, too. Maybe uncontrollably so.

“Oh, that was awesome”, you chuckled, wiping the tears that had collected in your eyes at your outburst. “So good”. 

“Totally agree”, Minho leaned into you to press a brief kiss on your lips before he left the bed to find a face towel from your dresser to clean up the stupid amounts of cum that had come out of his stupid monster cock off of your body.

“‘Suppose it was a good thing that my dad isn’t coming until very late today. It would’ve been seriously awkward to explain what was going on if he found us… Well, like this”, you started shrugging your shirt off as soon as Minho had finished cleaning you up, and proceeded to work the couple of buttons on your skirt.

“I don’t think he would’ve appreciated the sight, to be honest”, Minho chuckled, getting out of his shirt and vest top as well to put his t-shirt back on and do his jeans. 

As soon as you two were dressed properly and in clean clothes, you both laid back down, unbothered by the soiled sheets. Minho simply pulled you into his arms, and pressed a brief kiss on your forehead before he hugged you close.

“Kitten…” Minho mumbled against your hair after a while, dragging his hand up and down your back in a gentle caress. “Was that true?”

You absentmindedly traced patterns on his chest, shapes that he could’ve sworn were hearts and stars. “Was what true?”

“Y’know… that thing about… About you touching yourself while I was in the same room…”

You pulled yourself away from his hold a bit so you could look him in the eyes. A smile came to your lips, right before you started opening your mouth to speak.

© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

taglist: If you want to be added to the taglist, you can fill in this form. be aware that you must have an indication that you’re an adult in your blog if you want me to tag you in my works.

@comet-falls · @princelingperfect · @notastraykid · @iadorethemskz · @kileidoscope · @maknae00 · @dundullresident · @vitrealisbunny · @yeetfellx · @minnysproutgriffinteddy · @oiminho · @binchangf · @leedunno · @luxsonny · @mamieishere · @straylightdream · @bintificreads · @seo--changbin · @abcdefgiwsmcty · @ppiri-bahng · @letsbangchanblog · @fun-fanfics · @armystay89 · @iightsung · @cutiespaghetti · @noellllslut · @100layersofdaddyissues · @toplinehyunjin · @biribarabiribbaem · @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad · @stayconnecteed · @floatingcoffecup · @5starlee

in purple: can’t be tagged. if you see this, please check your visibility settings or i’ll have to remove your user from the taglist, and won’t be able to tag you in any future stories. if you want to be removed, DM me. be aware that i have recently revamped my taglist, so if you used to be in it and want to be added again, please send in the form (:

[sweet-creature101]

Kiwi

Summary: Harry recently started his solo carrier and Sarah recommmeds y/n as his lead guitarist. Harry finds himself intimidated by y/n and y/n could not care less.

famous!harry ; an enemies to lovers trope

part two

warnings: mention of alcohol. Swearing. Suggestive language and sexual tension.

“Come on Harry trust me on this. It won’t go downhill. She’s really good.” Sarah pleaded her case for the tenth time since the past one hour. Harry was certain she would talk his ear off.

“What was her name again?” Mitch asked Sarah.

“Y/n.”

“Sarah, I don’t know about this. I’ve known you all since a long time and it’s easy to work with you.” Harry said, slightly skeptical about a new addition to his team.

Harry knew who you were, a very successful songwriter and one hell of a guitar player. He knew you worked with bands like 5sos, 21 Pilots and even wrote a few songs on Taylor’s swifts album, Reputation. He saw you at a concert once and immediately fell in love with the way your presence consumed the concert wholly. No one cared about who was singing because everyone’s eyes were fixated on the young seductress clad in black leather and playing her instrument as if her life depended on it.

“You can only grow if you’re out of your comfort zone.” Sarah firmly stated, crossing her arms over her chest huffing out a breath.

Harry thought about it for a good minute. He needed someone with experience and you seemed to have it. You knew how to write and what to write. Perhaps a little experiment wouldn’t be so bad.

“Okay. I’m trusting your judgement on this.” Harry said nodding.

“Great because y/n’s in the elevator right now.” Sarah said giggling slightly. “Thank God you didn’t say no. Would’ve been a difficult conversation.” She mumbled, relived at how the situation panned out.

The apartment bell rang and Sarah jumped out of her seat startling Mitch who was sitting next to her. She took long strides towards the door.

“Y/n! Oh my gosh, it’s been ages! You look wonderful!” Sarah said hugging you. You smiled and hugged her back, glad to meet her once again after what seemed like a century.

“Thank you. How’ve you been?” You asked her, not bothering to take note of the two men who seemed to scrutinise your interaction with quite a lot of concentration.

“Same ol’ same ol” Sarah chuckled as she let you in.

“Harry, Mitch meet y/n.” Sarah introduced you to them. You found yourself in an awkward postion so you simply gave a wave and a loose smile.

If Harry was a ball of sunshine then you were a raging hurricane. The two of you were polar opposites. Harry radiated warmth and seemed to be the kind of person whom other people could talk to. Meanwhile you on the other hand were someone who kept to themselves.

Harry couldn’t help but notice your sweeping eyeliner. He observed it quite attentively, how it was winged at the edge of your eye and in the inner corner as well in a feline manner. You wore low waisted jeans with a fitted graphic black tee shirt that ended just below your navel, showing a silver of skin.

“So y/n, what’s your work like?” Mitch asked you.

“I write mainly rock but I’m open to new suggestions.” You said. Sarah nodded as if to say ‘awesome.’

Your voice was firm and authoritative as you answered the question. Harry found himself completly entranced by this complexity of a person that stood in front of him. He figured it out the minute you walked into the room with your head held high that working with you wouldn’t be easy.

“Do you have any questions Harry?” Sarah asked him. Harry only nodded no.

“Great. Im going out for a smoke.” You said leaving the three of them alone again.

“She’s scary.” Harry said once the door shut. Sarah rolled her eyes in response. “She’s a no nonsense person Harry.”

“And scary.” He added again.

“I know you’re not used to people like her. Just because you’re both literal opposites doesn’t mean she’ll eat you alive.” Sarah snorted. “You like her, don’t you Mitch?” Sarah asked him. Mitch only swallowed and replied, “I like her better on stage.”

“Oh hush both of you. Give her time.”

——————————————

“It doesn’t sound good.” Harry huffed out impatiently, staring at the lyrics he scribbled. It had been more than a week since everyone started to work on his debut album.

Harry began to habour a certain disliking for you, owing to lack of your participation and one word answers. You would sit away from everyone, scribble in your diary and would rarely look up from its pages.

“You know what guys, let’s just take a breather yeah?” Jeff, Harry’s manager said getting up from his chair and stretching his legs.

“I’m going out for a walk.” Sarah said, pulling Mitch to his feet as well. Harry was about to get up as well but Sarah mouthed to him; ‘talk to her’ as she gestured towards you. Harry looked at her with wide eyes and was ready to protest but Sarah was quick on her feet.

“Y/n.” Harry called out your name. You looked up at him, the loose strands strands of your braid fell down framing your face. You raised your eyebrows as if to say ‘speak on.’

Harry cleared his throat. “What are you writing?”

“Nothing much. Just an idea.” You said. That was the most you had spoken.

Harry noticed that today, there was no eyeliner but smudged kohl lining your eyes. You opted for a plain white tank top and a pair of mini cargo shorts. A surprise for Harry who was much too used to seeing you in black.

“I think, everyone would appreciate it if you would participate more you know?” Harry said. You only nodded and went back to scribbling.

“See! This is what you do y/n. You don’t talk. You’re so busy doing God knows what. I get it, you know you’re talented but that doesn’t mean you’re better than us.” Harry exploded. You shut your dairy hard and stared at him with rage.

“It’s been almost two weeks since you joined us. Have you contributed in any way?” Harry added, his voice reaching a higher octave and getting louder by the second.

“First of all, I don’t think I’m fucking better than you and second of all, instead of blaming me why don’t you recognise the fact that you’re scared and absolutely clueless.” You spat at him.

“I’m not scared.” Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah right.” You scoffed rolling your eyes. “You’re so scared that you’re putting the blame on me just because I’m the newbie. This solo carrier is new to you and that terrifies the shit out of you Harry. So much that you can’t even work. If I have to be the punching bag then I’m fucking leaving.” You stated grabbing your bag.

“You don’t know shit y/n.”

You didnt care about what Harry said next as you walked out of the room.

—————————————————

“Was it really necessary Harry?” Jeff said, rubbing his head with his hands. The stress of not having completed the album began to increase.

“I told you, ‘give her some time.’ Did you do that Harry? No. You just had to say something.” Sarah said, flinging her arms in the air.

“I mean, was Harry wrong though? Y/n was… just there you know. She didn’t talk, she didn’t help. Good riddance I say.” Mitch said.

The whole group was torn up over this. Harry began to feel guilt overpower him, but the rage he felt at your words was far too much for him to hone. He knew you were right and he hated you for that. He hated you for the fact that you were so good at reading him. Harry knew that you didn’t talk because you were shy but because you never found yourself as engaged as the others. You were aloof, and gave the impression that nothing bothered you at all.

“It’s been what; six days since she stormed off?” Jeff asked harry.

“Seven.”

“Jesus.”

Harry was certain that you overreacted to the situation. Granted, you didn’t want to be here and Harry left no stone unturned when it came to reminding you his dislike for you.

The door bell rang, Harry got up to look through the key hole. He felt the colour drain from his face. It was you. Standing in front of the door.

“It’s her.” Harry whispered with his eyes wide.

“You know I can hear you, ya dick. Open the door or I’m leaving.” You, irritation lacing your face.

You began to hate Harry or at least develop an aggressive aversion towards him as time passed. You hated how he seemed to have enough energy throughout the day to burst into a song. You hated that he was all smiles and giggles every second of the day. The only one thing you liked about him was how intimadated he was by you. But you knew that he could be much more terrifying than you when the time came.

“Pick your poison.” Mitch said.

Harry opened the door to meet your black smudged eyes. You push him as you enter the room and slam the diary on the centre table with a loud thud.

“Here you go. You said Im no help at all. Well I beg to differ. I’ve written three songs.” You said. Harry picked up the diary and flipped through the pages.

Kiwi

Medicine

Only angel

Strange names for such explicit songs.

Harry passed the diary to Sarah who looked at the songs with amazement.

“Harry we’ve got to add these.” Sarah said, excitement lacing her eyes.

“I don’t need anyone to plead my case. If he likes them, good enough.” You said, your voice unwavering as you looked at Harry who narrowed his eyes at you.

“I like them.”

—————————————

Within a week, all recordings were done and the album was ready to launch. Jeff suggested that the four of you should to go out, let off some steam because life would never be the same once the album got released.

Everyone was quite surprised when you suggested a place to party. You were quite intent on getting shit faced because the past month had been a whirlwind to say the least.

You wore a black mini dress, encased with sequins that was backless. Your eyes were lined with heavy kohl and mascara. Your whole face was bare other than your eyes.

“Johnnieeeee!” You exclaim to the large bouncer, a smile on your face as you high five him.

“Y/n been a long time. I see you’ve got friends.” He said, eyeing the people behind you.

Sarah felt that the club you brought them to too was far too dark and dingy for her liking. It was dark and the music was blaring. The club smelt of sex, drugs and alcohol. Your natural habitat. She held Mitchs hand in hers who was amused at her behaviour.

“I promise I’ll be good.” You say, looking up at him with doe eyes and a sly smile. John chuckled and let you in the club.

“We have go to do shots.” You exclaim to all three of them. Harry was surprised at your behaviour to say the least, he never would’ve pegged you as someone who even had the ability to smile let alone laugh.

“Nope. I’m driving.” Sarah said throwing her hands up in the air.

“Jeez such a buzzkill.” You said making Sarah roll her eyes. You stuck your tongue out at her as you made your way to the bar with Harry and Mitch.

“Don’t stop till your at least ten shots down.” You said with a cunning smile and excited eyes.

“Ten?!” Mitch exclaimed.

“Six.” Harry interjected.

“Deal.”

Harry learnt a great deal about that night. Especially the fact that you have a tendency to dance with almost anyone and everyone.

He saw you make your way to the dancefloor, not bothered about the fact that you had no one to dance with. You swayed your hips to the song, your arms moving and a bright smile etched on your face. You were surrounded by men and women. Harry saw you dance with a man whom you didn’t know, he wished you would be that carefree with him.

After an hour of drinking and talking, Harry found you dancing on the table with a few other people.

“Is this normal?” He asked Sarah who snickered in response. “Yep. She’s a fun drunk.”

You spot Harry and get down from the table, stumbling forward. The strap of your heel loosened and Harry quickly caught hold of you.

“Wait a second.” Harry said, as he kneeled down to fix your strap. Once he got up he saw your glassy eyes laiden with lust and simply smirked.

“You like watching me get down on my knees for you, huh?” Harry whispered in your ear, his grip harsh around your waist as he pulled you towards himself . You felt heat rise up your thighs and stomach.

“Isn’t that what men are good for anways?” You whispered, closing any gap you two had as you put one hand behind his neck, tugging him closer to you. “Don’t think this changes anything betwen us Styles. You’re still a nightmare.” You whispered to him in his ear slowly.

You stood so close to each other that you could feel each others heat radiate. Harry’s heart raced as his eyes met yours. You were cautious with your gaze, afraid that if you looked any longer in his eyes, he might spot the hunger in yours just as you might see his making you lose any self control you exercised.

“I have someone waiting for me.” You spoke, breaking the silence. Harry raised his eyebrows in amusement as his hands wandered down your waist to your lower back. He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he left a bite there. You let out a soft moan, turning into complete putty in his grip.

“I could fuck you much better y/n.” He said, his voice dangerously low.

“I don’t want to be fucked missionary style that’ll leave me unsatisfied.”

“Your moan said otherwise.”

Two can play this game.

You wiggled out of his grip, ignoring the throbbing between your legs as you sauntered towards the dance floor, blowing a kiss at Harry from a distance.

——————————————

“Hello?” Your groggy voice spoke into the microphone of your phone. Your head throbbing due to last night.

“Y/n. Where are you?” Jeff asked you.

“Home.”

“Come over to Harry’s. Got something to discuss.”

“I’ll be there in five.” You said before hanging up on the phone.

You washed your face, put on a large tee shirt and an oversized pair of sunglasses. You brushed your hair and slipped into your slippers. It was a ten minute drive to Harry’s house. The radio was silent. The windows were rolled down because you needed fresh air now more than ever.

You reached his flat and rang the doorbell.

“My my look who’s here.” Harry taunted as he opened the door to see you in an oversized tee shirt, legs bare and slippers. He couldn’t control all the thoughts that seemed to slip in and out his head as he saw your legs.

“Show me your eyes love.” Harry snickered knowing they must be bloodshot. You flipped him off and plopped down on the bean bag, groaning as you held your head.

“You seemed to have a lot of fun last night.” Mitch said, getting a stare from Sarah. “You should see the videos.” He added. Your head shot up at his words.

“Videos?”

“Yep. They’re too good.” He snickered. You removed your sunglasses and pounced at Harry who began to play videos of you dancing on table tops.

“Give. Me. The. Damn. Phone.” You said in between breathes as you attempted to strangle Harry. You were about to smack Harry but he picked you up by your waist, throwing you on his shoulder.

“Put me down.” You stated firmly.

“Only if you don’t strangle me.” Harry said chuckling at your sorry state.

“I don’t make promises Styles.”

“Too bad. I’ll post it if you continue to be a brat.” He said.

“Fine.”

Harry put you down, running a hand through your messy hair which you swatted off. He noticed how young you looked without lining your eyes, a different girl, perhaps even innocent. You looked like a doe. You looked beautiful.

“You’re drolling on the carpet Styles.” You said rolling your eyes at him.

“Am I supposed to deny that I find you attractive?” He questioned, his voice low and alluring. He spoke slow enough to make your thighs quiver. Your mind suddenly flashed you images of how his large hand felt against your waist last night.

“I’m too hungover for this.” The only defense left.

This was new to you. This feeling of loathing someone to no extent but also finding them undeniably attractive. Attractive enough to make your thoughts wander off to forbidden places and scenarios.

“What happened to your neck?” Sarah said, noticing the love bite that Harry left the other night. You rolled your head back as you rubbed your eyes with a yawn. Harry felt proud to say the least, he smirked and winked at you while you barely controlled the urge to smash his face in the table neck to him.

“Why am I even here?” You said groaning. “The work is done. The albums done. What do you possibly need for me now?” You added.

“Come to tour with us.” Jeff said, his manager persona now showing.

“What?”

“Yes.”

“It wasn’t in the contract Jeff.”

“Consider this, an impromptu decision.” He reasoned with you.

“I’ll do only concerts. No interviews. No playing for videos and no recordings.” You said.

“Deal.”

You huffed a breath as you reached for the glass of water next to you. “That’s mine!” Harry whined. You flipped him off as you wore your sunglasses and went to sleep.

“Oh y/n what’s your Instagram?” Jeff asked. You scoffed at his question, “don’t have one.” You simply said. “Well, Harry follows his band members so-”

“No.” and with that you went to sleep.

—————————————

The album was a success to say the least. Everyone seemed to recognise Harry as Harry styles and not as Harry from One Direction. It was bitter sweet to say the least. Harry was excited and enthralled to be able to embark a whole new journey.

The album release party was a success. But you weren’t there, Harry had called you not once but twice asking you why you weren’t there.

“Y/n, it’s already six, why aren’t you at the party?” Harry asked you on call.

“Because I didn’t plan on going.” A short answer. Your one word answers now began to become a bit longer but they annoyed Harry nonetheless.

“The whole band’s here.”

“I’m not part of your band Harry. I helped you write your songs.” You stated.

“But you’re going to tour with us.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

And now as Harry stood in front of the stage, waiting for the crowd to pour in, he wondered where you were. You had insisted on driving to the show venue on your own instead of travelling with the band. Harry tried to persuade you but you didn’t budge.

“Is she here?” Harry asked Jeff who only nodded no. Harry was getting worried now. He was supposed to get ready, but he was much to engaged in wondering about your whereabouts. It was his first show and your words about him being scared rang in his head.

“She’ll be here don’t worry.” Jeff said.

By the time Harry got ready, he spotted you, a cigarette in your mouth as you look towards the stage. You wore a latex, dark emerald coloured waistcoat that resembled a corset. It pushed your breasts together and ended just above the curve of your waist. You wore low waisted black bell bottoms. The waistcoat and the bell bottoms gave off the illusion of an hourglass figure. Your eyes were covered in your signature feline eyeliner, curving in the inner and outer corner of your eye.

“Y/n!” Harry called your name. You looked up at him, a lazy smile on your face as you disposed the cigarette.

“My my look at you styles. A fucking prince you are.” You said snickering. Harry stuck his tongue out at you. He wore a red blazer clad with black flowers and the same pattern was all over his trousers. His hair were unruly yet only added to his charm.

“Ya scared?” You asked him.

“No. I mean, I’m just…. excited yet scared you know?”

“Hmm.”

“You stick out like a sore thumb.” Harry said, his eyebrows raised at you as he scanned you up and down.

“Excuse me for not wanting to dress up as a fucking rainbow.” You said scowling at Harry who passed you a smile. “Y’know what would really go well with your top?” Harry said, his eyes twinkling. “What?”

“Wait.” Harry ran off of to his dressing room, fetching a silver cross necklace. The cross was heavy and large, engraved with swirls and very small rubies decorating it. Harry gestured you to turn around, his hands brushed against your skin as he snapped it’s lock in place. The cross rested against the curve of your breasts, demanding attention and praise. “How about a hickey to tie your look together?” Harry questioned.

“From you? Not even in your dreams Styles.” You said. Harry smirked at you and went towards the stage.

—————————————

Harry felt alive. He felt free and invincible on stage. But you, you were the personification of sex. The minute Kiwi began to play, the crowds focus shifted from Harry to you.

You whipped your hair back and forth, your back arching, a cigarette encased in your pink lips, sweat gleaming down the curves of your waist, breasts and arms. The crowd went absolutely wild as you winked at them. Harry’s photographer, Lloyd was entranced with you. He couldn’t help but photograph you. Your eyebrows were sinched together in focus, your eyes closed, your mouth slightly open and your body fully arched.

After the first concert, the fans and media were deep diving into who you were and tried to uncover your identity. As the tour progressed, the crowd began to make posters stating things like “we’re here for y/n!” “Give us y/n!”

There were pictures of you everywhere, playing the guitar as your face morphed into an expression which Harry called your “orgasm face.”

Harry was asked about you during interviews as well, the media was left questioning about your identity and they found themselves allured by a recent stunt you pulled at a concert.

You jumped off the stage during Medicine and went up to a man, roughly around your age if not older. The man lit the cigarette in your mouth with his lighter as you winked at him and murmured “thank you love.”

—————————————

The tour had finally ended. You were in your dressing room, your chest heaving up and down. The adrenaline after the show still lingering in your blood stream. You removed your top and were standing in your bra, the minute Harry barged in.

“Knock on my door ya’dick!” You said, crossing your arms over your chest which did nothing at all to ease Harry since your breasts were pushed up.

After months of sexual tension, Harry finally felt himself crack.

“Got to teach you some manners.” You murmured.

“Really?” He tutted, pulling you by the loop of your jeans.

You understood where this was heading. “Hmm.” You hummed, moving your hands slowly on the buttons of his shirt. Harry caught your wrist making you look up at him. He looked in your eyes, deep and seriously as if to contemplate his actions. You pulled him by his neck, close enough that your foreheads touched.

“M’gonna regret this.” He whispered. He didn’t give you a chance to respond as he connected his lips to yours, his tongue swirling in your mouth. His hands wandered down the curve of your spine and lingered there. You deepened the kiss, letting your hunger overpower you. He wasn’t close enough, you needed his skin next to yours, rubbing, you needed to feel him, you needed him.

There was a knock on the door, you immediately recoil away from Harry although his hands were still on your bare back. “Y/n, Vanessa’s here for you.” Laura, his assistant said.

Vanessa and you were supposed to head out to paris the next morning. Harry felt a hole cave in his chest, remembering about your departure.

“I’ll be there.” You said.

You kissed Harry, a sweet and soulful kiss. Not the one that was ruled with consumption and the urge to mark.

“You should stay.” Harry whispered, holding you.

“I never stay anywhere for too long.”

Harry looked at you, his eyes staring into yours as you squeezed his hand. “Who’re you gonna strangle now?” You laughed remembering all the times you tried to strangle and choke him, resting your head on his chest.

“I’ve got to go.” You said, slipping out of his grip, slipping on a tee shirt as you picked up your stuff.

Harry looked at you with a look of longing. How stupid. How cruel. How unfair. He thought to himself as he saw you leave.

“When will I see you again?” He asked you.

“When it’s the right time.” You said, kissing his cheek.

——————————————

Authors note; how are we feeling about a part two? let me know in the comments section <3

[carlos-in-glasses]

Thank you for the tag @whatsintheboxmh and @nisbanisba 🧡

This is from chapter 12 of Rhythms, coming on Sunday! It might be my personal favourite chapter so can't wait to share! Also...12 weeks of posting down already 😭 It's all going too fast.

In which we join Carlos, Buttercup and TK at Gabriel's funeral wake:

“Oh, you want one of these?” Carlos feels himself actually smile, taking a couple of baby carrots from a bag in the crisper drawer. Rocky always loved carrots. “Here, have one for Rocky,” he says, feeding Buttercup from his hand and regretting it for the palmful of drool.

Carlos washes his hands but can’t resist returning to Buttercup to pet him. Dogs are creatures of enormous comfort.

He crouches and takes Buttercup’s face in his hands. “Thank you, Buttercup. Thank you,” he whispers.

Buttercup boofs and dusts the floor beneath the island with his wagging tail.

A couple of sets of footsteps come crashing into the kitchen. For some reason Carlos freezes where he is, crouches down lower behind the island, his instinct to stay hidden.

“You want something, Casey?” A young, male voice asks. “They’ve got tequila.”

“Nah, I’m driving,” a second guy replies, “They’ve got so much booze here, man.”

A beer can cracks open and hisses. “Hey, did you know the Major’s son is a f*****?”

“What?”

“Yeah, he’s engaged to a man – I met the fiancé; this is his dad’s place. He was like, hey, I’m Carlos’ fiancé. I had to try so hard not to laugh.”

“Bruh.”

Eyes wide, Carlos slowly drifts up from behind the kitchen island like Titan rising out of the sea.

Two rookies who are barely out of training pants freeze where they stand, their faces draining of color as their mouths fall open.

The rookie with the beer can slowly puts it down. “I – we were just–”

Carlos clocks their names on their badges. “Marsh and Ross, Get the fuck out of this house,” he whispers, “Right now.”

Marsh and Ross look at each other and hurry away in the direction of the front door, brushing past TK as they go. TK spins in the whirlwind of them.

“What are they doing?” TK throws a thumb over his shoulder as he wanders towards Carlos and Buttercup.

Carlos is too stunned, too gut-punched to answer.

Buttercup lopes over to TK, his favorite boy in all the world.

“More cars have pulled up outside,” TK says, stroking a finger down Buttercup’s snout. “And your mom just opened the condolences book.”

“I’ll write something,” Carlos says shakily. A little message of love for his mom to find. The book is for her. 

Carlos follows TK in a stupor. The words of the homophobic rookie – it’s like someone has driven nails into his ears. There’s a sharp pain across his cranium, in his jaw, that makes his eyes water. He no longer feels like he’s at the same altitude as everyone else.

Open tag and tags below:

@paperstorm @thisbuildinghasfeelings @strandnreyes

@bonheur-cafe @lightningboltreader @goodways @reyesstrand

@rmd-writes @welcometololaland @ladytessa74

@heartstringsduet @irispurpurea @liminalmemories21 @alrightbuckaroo

@cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @chicgeekgirl89 @lemonlyman-dotcom @freneticfloetry

@theghostofashton @honeybee-taskforce @sugdenlovesdingle

@herefortarlos @orchidscript @tellmegoodbye @three-drink-amy

@pimento-playing-hopscotch @eclectic-sassycoweyes

@kiwichaeng @literateowl @butchreyes @captain-gillian

@nancys-braids @fifthrideroftheapocalypse @ironheartwriter

@emsprovisions @sapphic--kiwi @anactualcaseofthetruth

@corsage @nisbanisba @the-126-family @carlossreaders @henrygrass - If you want to share/haven't already! No pressure ever! ❤️🩷🧡💛💚💙🩵💜

[lemonlyman-dotcom]

All The Stars Are Closer - New fic live on ao3 now!

Tarlos | 12 k | E

Happy birthday to my beloved friend @carlos-in-glasses 🥰 I hope you enjoy this screwball romantic comedy, which includes some winks at your delightful fic A Naked House 💕 Thank you for being such a lovely and supportive friend, I’m incredibly grateful that you chose me as a buddy, and to have you in my pocket every day!! Thank you to @ladytessa74 & @thisbuildinghasfeelings for conspiring with me on this one, I’ve had such fun noodling on it with you both for the past three months!!!

The Catan Crew heads to Galveston for Tarlos’s beach bachelor party and everyone’s letting loose, especially Carlos. But when a drunk Carlos disappears and the gang splits up to find him, TK worries about his ability to be a good husband. Surrounded by the love and support of his friends, he finds he’s stronger than he knows.

“Oh! I know what’s going on,” Iris interjects, pointing an accusatory finger at Carlos from the other side of the table where she’s squeezed onto a cushioned bench between Paul and Mateo. “You don’t want the Silver Surfer to come out.”

“The Silver Surfer?” TK asks, blinking between Iris and Carlos.

“You’re getting married and you’ve never met the Silver Surfer?” The outrage in Iris’s voice is laced with too much delight to be sincere.

“Um,” TK looks from Iris back to a mildly mortified Carlos. “Is this some sort of inside joke?”

“Bro, is the Silver Surfer your dick?” Mateo asks.

“Oh my god,” Nancy sputters while the rest of the group snickers.

“The Silver Surfer,” Iris smirks, “is his drunk alter ego.”

Read on ao3

Tag list @pimento-playing-hopscotch @chicgeekgirl89 @carlos-tk @guardian-angle22 @whatsintheboxmh @captain-gillian @welcometololaland @honeybee-taskforce @heartstringsduet @ladytessa74 @herefortarlos @lightningboltreader @literateowl @liminalmemories21 @reyesstrand @paperstorm @thisbuildinghasfeelings @bonheur-cafe @kiwichaeng @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @emsprovisions @sapphic--kiwi @firstprince-history-huh @fifthrideroftheapocalypse @tellmegoodbye @freneticfloetry @certifiedflower @noxsoulmate @goldenskykaysani @toomanycupsoftea 💕

[cobaltperun]

Lost (Side - 1) - 25

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: Tara hasn't had a chance to celebrate Sam's birthday in years and she'll make this one count. She just needs help from you and the twins.

Lost masterlist

Before we start, this was based on these two headcanons.

Word count: 3k

The creamy texture of the sweet chocolate and vanilla filled crescent rolls made you throw your head back with the largest grin on your face in months. "Damn, I am getting so good at this!" small victories, that was all that mattered right now.

"No way! They can't be that good!" you didn't think it was possible, but you grinned even wider when Tara jumped on your back and stole the roll right from your hand. She remained on your back as she took a bite, and you turned your head to watch her reaction. "Oh, oh, they actually are good!" she devoured the roll and reached for another one on the table only to realize she was too far to reach it.

"That's what you get for doubting my skills, Carpenter," you laughed at her pout and grabbed a larger bowl to use for crescent rolls. Still, she looked too cute not to give her what she wanted. "Here you go," you handed one roll to her and placed another one in your mouth as you began arranging the remaining ones in the bowl. You set a couple down at the bottom and dusted them with a bit of powdered sugar then repeated the process as Tara happily chewed on the one you gave to her earlier.

A few moments later she reached for the one you kept in your mouth. You looked at her and then at the half-eaten roll still in her left hand. The realization hit you and you bit through the roll. Tara smiled and leaned her head against yours. When you swallowed, she offered you another bite and you went back to placing the rolls in the bowl and dusting them with sugar. When that was done you cleaned up a bit, just to get some of the mess out of the way, all the while still having Tara on your back.

"Okay, time to get off," you said when you finished up and grabbed the bowl.

Tara just reached down and took a roll. "I like it up here," she whispered into your ear.

"Tara," you warned even if both of you knew you were all bark and no bite when it came to her.

"Baby," and there it was, her recently discovered secret weapon she used when you tried to put up a fight. You saw the mischievous, smug smile on her face when you sighed and began walking.

Sure, the nickname worked on you, but there was another reason for how easily you gave in. Sam's twentieth birthday was just around the corner, and it would be the second time Tara couldn't spend that day with her. Tara's been, well, she wasn't exactly in a good mood these past few days and seeing her this relaxed put you at ease as well. Being able to improve her mood even the slightest bit was worth doing much more than carrying her on your back. Also, she actually had an appetite and it always made you happy when you could sneak a proper meal into her usual routine, since her damn mother wasn’t interested in making an effort to do it.

You opened the fridge and crouched down, with Tara still hanging onto your back like a koala. "Orange juice, iced tea, milk, I dunno, lots of things," you listed the various drinks you saw in the fridge. "What do you want?" you glanced down and noticed a small bottle in the doors. You nearly forgot about it. "Oh, yeah, I made kiwi syrup, wanna try the juice?"

"Dude, why are you even asking? Of course, I want!" Tara laughed, honestly, with how much she liked kiwi you really shouldn't have asked.

You took two glasses and poured some syrup into them before filling them up with water and mixing the two with a spoon. You handed a glass to Tara and picked the other one up.

"Say, Y/N, would you make something just for me?" Tara asked almost out of the blue. Her voice was small, and you felt her grip on your short tightening. She was nervous, as if you would ever say no to her requests.

It wasn’t as if you couldn’t say no to Tara. You could and did if she was unreasonable, but that was the thing, Tara, as used to getting bare minimum from everyone around her rarely asked for anything, and even when she did it was ridiculously small. So, given that, you’d do pretty much anything to make sure you made whatever she asked for happen.

"Of course, I’ll make anything you want," you assured her softly as you climbed up the stairs to your childhood room. And she just, she hid her face, and you pretended you didn’t notice the collar of your shirt getting slightly wet. If Tara wanted to talk, she would, and if she felt like she could let a few tears fall without you making a fuss about it, then you’d let her do that as well, as long as she released it all, you were fine with just being there.

~X~

Tara's request was the same back then as it was a few days ago. 'Please make ojo de pancha,' so, you did, both back then and today and all the times in between when Tara would get nostalgic and start missing Sam more than she usually did. It was delicious, sure, but there was something else to it that made it special for Tara, and you were willing to bet it was special to Sam as well.

Thankfully, since Chad and Mindy's parents were out of town, you could work on the best birthday lunch Sam had in years in their kitchen.

You were kneading the dough for the puff pastry when Mindy walked over to you. "Good thing you have stamina, you've been at it for almost an hour," she commented and poked the dough you left to rest half an hour ago.

"Tell me about it. Puff pastry is great, but damn, it is not worth the effort," you chose to split the dough into two pieces to make it easier to work with, but that also meant a lot more kneading.

"Unless Tara asks you to make it," Mindy teased as she began loading the dishwasher.

You grinned. "I'm whipped and I'm proud!" you cried out victoriously, prompting the girl the bend over laughing.

"Don't we all know that," she sighed as her laughter subsided. "But, damn, you're really going all out," she whistled as she checked the fridge. "Chocolate eclairs, mini strawberry cheesecakes, wait, you're kidding right?" she turned to you with her jaw hanging slightly.

"Guess you found the opera?" you laughed, figuring she saw the cake.

"Okay, I see how it is," she nodded and closed the fridge. "Impressing the sister-in-law, smart."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at that. "Sam isn't-" you tried to put up a fight.

"Zip it, you're whipped," she immediately cut you off and pointed a finger at you. "You, Y/N L/N, are so whipped I wouldn't even consider you as a suspect even if you are Tara's love interest."

There was absolutely no way to dignify that with an answer. "Are you and Chad done with decorations?" you asked instead and put the dough away, finally. Now you could make the filling.

Mindy went and sat down at the table armed with a spoon and a piece of bread. You forgot to put away the leftover filling for deviled eggs so now she was spreading it across a piece of bread. "You're the only one still working. We prepared the playlist, did the decorations, games, movies, and anything Sam might want to do is all set. Chad should arrive with flowers any minute now."

You began mixing the ingredients. "He really wants to make this surprise party memorable for Sam."

"You both do, you're too sappy and soft," Mindy pretended to gag.

You let out a short laugh and glanced back to look at her. "Says the one who set this whole thing into motion! You said we should celebrate here!" she could act tough all she wanted, but you were more than aware Mindy was one big softie, at least somewhere very, very deep down.

~X~ Earlier that day ~X~

Sam woke up to the smell of eggs, ham, and coffee and it smelled amazing. She spent the night on the couch, refusing to let Tara sleep anywhere but in a proper bed. She felt a bit stiff and mentally made a note to make sure their new apartment in New York would have more comfortable furniture. Still, her apartment was cheap, two floors beneath Tara and your apartment, and, unlike yours, had a separate bedroom.

"I told you you'd get stiff on the couch," came Tara's teasing voice, and Sam blinked a few times. By the time she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, Tara already leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Happy birthday Sammy," oh, how she missed that nickname. Nowadays, Tara used it only on special occasions.

"Thanks," Sam pulled Tara into a hug. Finally, after five years she could spend her birthday with her sister. Maybe she could even argue it was after a decade since she no longer kept her distance from Tara.

She missed so much of Tara's life and somehow seeing the breakfast Tara made for them, complete with a dish she didn't recognize, but that looked rather tasty, only further reminded her of that.

Tara, noticing the puzzled look directed at the food, smiled and sat down. "Y/N knows a bunch of European recipes, so she taught me how to make some. This one," she pointed at the dish Sam didn't recognize. "Is Swedish, I think, sandwich cake, I went with avocado and salmon filling, and, you know, bread."

Sam nodded, impressed, both by Tara and you. "I guess Y/N didn't work as a chef for nothing," she commented, still observing the, now named, sandwich cake.

Tara laughed. "You haven't seen anything, she went all out for my eighteenth birthday and it was incredible. I don't think I've ever seen as many different dishes on the same table in my life," Tara explained excitedly spreading her arms.

Sam added another mental note, to make sure you knew just how much she appreciated everything you did for Tara. She went behind Tara and hugged her, she pressed her face against Tara's left shoulder and held back tears. "I know it doesn't change anything, but I'm so sorry for leaving you, Tara," she left shortly after Tara turned thirteen, not even realizing at the moment that she was leaving Tara around the same time Tara's father left.

One of Sam's worries was that it would ruin Christmas time for Tara, and in turn, also affect her birthday, but Tara celebrated her nineteenth birthday without any issues. Granted, she wouldn't leave your side for more than five minutes and she didn't need a seat for even a minute. Sam still wasn't sure if it was due to it being Tara's birthday or due to the freshness of your relationship and long-awaited reunion. Probably the combination of all those factors. Regardless, she was relieved.

Tara turned around and, while still sitting, hugged Sam. "It means everything, Sam, it means everything," she whispered and Sam couldn't stop the few tears from falling. "Hey, we have a lot of things to do today, let's not get emotional right away," even though Tara was the one who said it Sam could hear she was also struggling not to cry.

Sam nodded and separated from Tara. She wiped the tears from her eyes and took a deep breath. "Right, I'll be quick," she went to the bathroom. They did have a packed day ahead. Tara decided to make a repeat of Sam's thirteenth birthday. Breakfast at home, going to a local arcade, then to see a movie, back then they saw How to Train Your Dragon, then to a local bakery where Tara only had enough money to get one ojo de pancha, so they split it. Ever since then, ojo de pancha has become Sam's absolute favorite. Back then they wrapped up the day with games at home, thinking up any ways they could have fun with just the two of them.

They'd repeat the arcade, the cinema, and the game night, although the last one would be at Mindy and Chad's place. The local bakery closed even before she left Woodsboro, so they couldn't get ojo de pancha, but she could live with that.

~X~

When Sam parked in front of Mindy and Chad's house the first thing she noticed was your car already there. Which explained Tara's endearing excitement, still, it hadn't even been twenty-four hours since Tara last saw you.

When they stepped outside the car Tara actually ran around the car and raised her hands over Sam's eyes. "Really, Tara?" Sam couldn't help but chuckle, still, it was Tara, and they were about to meet up with their friends, so Sam felt at ease even with her vision blocked.

"Just trust me," Tara didn't say it, but Sam heard the silent plea.

"I trust you," she assured and felt Tara close what little distance was between them to hug Sam from behind before bringing her palms back up over Sam's eyes.

"Wait, wait, we need a picture!" Chad's voice made Sam reconsider letting Tara guide her like this.

"You could earn some good money by selling that photo to Y/N," Mindy chimed in.

"Damn, I already sent it to her," Chad lamented and Sam just shook her head slightly.

"I swear, you'll never get any easy money," Mindy was probably jokingly glaring at Chad, not that Sam could see it.

"Steps," Tara warned just in time for Sam to avoid tripping. Climbing the stairs with Tara trying to cover her eyes was almost impossible, seeing as how short Tara was, but they somehow made it up the stairs alive and without the surprise being spoiled. Sam wasn't even sure what Tara was keeping her from seeing, since they were still outside and the house looked normal. Oh well, Tara probably wanted to do it so she did it.

Sam was led into the house and into the living room and only then did Tara let her look. Sam's jaw dropped. There were balloons in each corner of the house, with large 2 and 5 shaped balloons hanging behind the sofa, where she was likely meant to sit. The was a huge 'Happy 25th birthday Sam!' banner hanging from the ceiling. She figured you and Chad moved the kitchen table to the living room, and it was filled to the brim. Two plates filled with chocolate eclairs and mini strawberry cheesecakes. An amazing-looking cake with number 2 and 5 candles stuck on it. A bean soup steamed from the center of the table with a plate filled with chicken rolls stuffed with vegetables on one side of it and a plate of pork chops on the other side. Deviled eggs, guacamole, and crunchy-looking pizza rolls completed the table. Still, there was one spot open.

"Happy birthday, Sam," you said as you came out of the kitchen, a large plate raised high above your head. She couldn't believe there was actually more as Tara sat her down at the head of the table.

And then she saw the content of the plate as you set it down. Ojo de pancha... a whole lot of them, arranged in a heart shape. She felt Tara squeeze her shoulders and looked up to look at you taking the apron off. Her vision got blurry, definitely from the yet-to-be-shed tears. "You're crazy, all of you," she blinked, but it barely kept the tears at bay.

"And you're loved, by all of us," you tossed the apron over the chair, likely meant for you, on Sam's far right.

"Sappy, but right," Mindy and Chad brought out flowers, a beautiful custom-made bouquet.

"You deserve this and so much more. Happy birthday, Sam," Chad grinned at her and Sam just couldn't take it anymore.

She buried her face into the crook of Tara's neck and cried, overwhelmed by the happiness and love she felt. She felt Tara gently rubbing her back with one hand and then heard the three of you getting up. In a matter of moments, she was engulfed in the largest hug she ever experienced in her life and her sister was at the very center of it.

She never had this while she was growing up. Before she found out who her father actually was she had some friends, but they weren't keen on playing with 'Sam's sick little sister' so Sam stopped playing with them as well. After she found out about Billy her company consisted of teenagers at least a few years older than her that would help her get drunk and eventually introduce her to drugs. None of those people were meant to be lasting friendships that went beyond getting into trouble. In Modesto she was already used to being on her own, mostly going for short flings or acquaintances keeping her company.

She had it now. Strong arms. Warm arms. Firmly holding onto her and giving her a reason beyond herself or even just her and Tara to be strong and protect what she finally got. Because she finally found family in these people.

As the group separated, she took the ojo de pancha in the middle of the heart and split it into five pieces. There were plenty of them on the plate, more than enough for all five of them, but there was just something about sharing that first one with her family that made all five of them share warm smiles.

Lost masterlist