#and different ways of writing and how to use music to inspire work and all that jazz

[pinkmoontaco]

Hug in the Limelight || Xu Minghao

Pairing: Idol Minghao X Idol Y/n Genre: Romance, Fluff, Idol romance Summary: When Y/n’s group wins their first trophy, she breaks down in tears—only for Minghao to hug her on live TV, shocking everyone. Authors Note: Hey everyone, 😊!! I'm back with a short story that was requested by one of you! First off, I just want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the love and support you’ve shown for Fated to Love You. The incredible response honestly feels like a dream, and I’m beyond grateful for each and every one of you💕 Your sweet comments, reblogs, and kind words truly inspire me to keep writing, so please keep them coming!! Love you guys ❤️ And also feel free to make any request for any other members or other group

M.list

The music was deafening, the lights blinding, and the cheers of the crowd an intoxicating high. But even in the midst of all that, her eyes always found his.

Y/N was used to the chaos of the industry. The long nights, the endless rehearsals, the weight of expectations pressing against her shoulders. She had debuted five years ago, climbing the ranks of the industry, her group steadily growing into one of the top names in K-pop. She had learned to balance fame with sanity, but nothing quite prepared her for meeting Xu Minghao.

They met during a special year-end collaboration stage. Her group and SEVENTEEN had been paired together for a mixed performance, a fusion of styles meant to showcase their versatility. Minghao, with his effortless grace and piercing gaze, had immediately caught her attention. But she wasn’t the type to easily show interest. She kept things professional, exchanging polite greetings and focusing on rehearsals.

Minghao, however, was different. He wasn’t loud or overbearing like some of the other idols she had worked with. He moved through the world with an air of calmness, always observing, always calculating. And yet, there was a warmth to him—something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Their first real conversation happened backstage after a long rehearsal. Y/N had been stretching when he approached, a bottle of water in hand. “You should take a break,” he said, offering it to her.

She raised an eyebrow but accepted it. “You sound like my leader.”

He chuckled, settling down beside her. “I just know how exhausting this industry can be.”

For some reason, she found herself opening up. “Sometimes, I forget what it’s like to rest. It’s always go, go, go.”

Minghao hummed in understanding. “Then you should find small moments for yourself. Even in the chaos.”

She thought about that conversation for weeks after. It wasn’t just his words, but the way he said them—like he truly understood. From then on, stolen moments became their thing. Between rehearsals, at award shows, in the quiet hallways of music broadcasts. A glance, a fleeting smile, a whispered joke. They were never reckless, never obvious, but they found each other in the places where the cameras didn’t reach.

One night, after another successful performance, they found themselves alone on the rooftop of the venue. The city stretched out before them, lights flickering like stars. Y/N pulled her jacket tighter around herself as the cool air bit at her skin.

Minghao leaned against the railing beside her. “You were amazing tonight.”

She smiled. “So were you.”

They stood in silence for a moment before he turned to face her fully. “Y/N… do you ever wonder if there’s a version of us that doesn’t have to hide?”

Her heart clenched at the question. She had thought about it more times than she could count. “All the time,” she admitted. “But we both know the reality.”

He nodded, looking up at the sky. “Then we’ll just have to make the most of what we have.”

She reached for his hand, fingers lacing together. It was dangerous. Reckless, even. But in that moment, she didn’t care. Because despite everything—the cameras, the contracts, the expectations—they had this. Their stolen moments. And for now, that was enough.

But then, everything changed.

A week later, a blurry photo of them holding hands surfaced online. It spread like wildfire, speculations running rampant. Their agencies moved quickly, arranging emergency meetings and discussing possible responses. They had two choices—deny or come clean.

Minghao was the first to make a decision. “Let’s be honest,” he said, looking at Y/N with certainty in his eyes. “I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

Her heart pounded as she nodded. “Me neither.”

The next day, they posted matching statements on social media. “Yes, we are together. We’ve found comfort and happiness in each other, and we hope you can support us.”

The reactions were mixed—some fans cheered, others felt betrayed. But through it all, Minghao stayed by her side, holding her hand just as tightly as he had that night on the rooftop.

And this time, they weren’t just stolen moments. They were theirs to keep.

The stage of Music Bank was deafening. Cheers, screams, and a wave of emotions crashed through the air as Y/n’s group was announced as the winner.

For a moment, she just stood there. Did she hear that right?

Her leader’s hands flew to her mouth, another member collapsed to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. Their dream—the thing they had fought for, cried for, bled for—was finally in their grasp.

Y/n tried to hold herself together, tried to keep her emotions at bay, but the moment she locked eyes with the fans in the audience, the ones who had waited years for this just as much as they had—the tears fell.

She covered her face with her hands, her body trembling as reality sank in. Her members wrapped around each other in a tight embrace, crying, shaking, overwhelmed.

And then, through her blurred vision, she saw him.

Xu Minghao.

Standing on the other side of the stage, his gaze locked onto hers. His lips were slightly parted, as if he was trying to find words, but the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides told her everything.

In that moment, he didn’t care about the cameras. He didn’t care about the industry’s rules.

He moved.

The entire stage seemed to freeze as Minghao crossed the boundary between them.

The MCs' voices stuttered. The other idols gasped. The audience erupted.

Before Y/n could even process it, she was in his arms.

A collective gasp filled the studio.

She didn’t hesitate—her arms wrapped around his torso as she buried her face into his shoulder, shaking from both the weight of the moment and the warmth he provided.

Minghao held her tightly, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other securing her against him as if shielding her from the entire world. He didn’t care about the rules. He didn’t care about the headlines.

She had won, and he needed her to know he was there.

The MCs didn’t know what to say. The idols behind them exchanged stunned glances, some covering their mouths, others clutching their chests in shock. The broadcast camera zoomed in, capturing every moment—a moment that would become legendary.

Y/n trembled in his arms, gripping his jacket so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “I—I can’t believe it…” she choked out between sobs.

Minghao exhaled shakily, his own eyes glassy. He pulled back just enough to look at her, his hands gently wiping the tears off her cheeks. “Believe it. You deserve this.”

Her lip quivered, fresh tears threatening to spill.

The murmurs of the other idols grew louder, whispers of “Oh my God,” “This is insane,” and “They really don’t care anymore” filling the air.

Finally, one of the MCs stammered into the mic, “W-Well… I think we just witnessed something… historic.”

The audience was already exploding, social media in flames with headlines flooding in real-time.

"SEVENTEEN'S MINGHAO DEFIES INDUSTRY RULES—PUBLICLY EMBRACES Y/N DURING FIRST WIN!"

"MINGHAO AND Y/N: LOVE IN THE SPOTLIGHT"

"IDOLS AREN'T SUPPOSED TO SHOW THIS MUCH EMOTION—BUT MINGHAO JUST DID."

But at that moment, neither of them cared.

Minghao cupped her cheeks, his thumbs tracing gentle circles as he whispered, "Let them say what they want. This moment is yours.”

Y/n sniffled, nodding, and for the first time that night, a smile broke through her tears.

With their hands still intertwined, standing under the brightest lights in the industry, they had never felt freer.

[haniette]

midnight miracle. // ln4

pairing | lando norris x fem!reader

genre | fluff, angst, friends to lovers, hurt-comfort.

word count | 2k

warnings | no use of y/n, use of alcohol, kissing, heartbreak.

summary: when the new year’s eve couldn’t get any worse and everyone disappoints you, Lando is there to keep you company.

a/n: happy new year guys <3 a small gift for you to start this year better. its HIGHLY inspired by my own experience, and as I really needed some comfort, i decided to write this :) hope you’ll enjoy it !

It all just felt unfair.

The wind howled outside as the cold air of the last day of December wrapped itself around the city, making the windows tremble. You pulled your coat tighter around yourself, standing in front of the mirror and staring at your reflection. 

Your shining, mini dress fitted you perfectly, and your makeup was still intact, the soft shimmer of eyeshadow and gloss untouched despite the turmoil churning inside you.

Tonight was supposed to be the night that washed away the sorrow of a year that had taken from you more than it had given, where a new chapter in your life would start with the strike of midnight. A night for celebration, laughter, and fresh starts. But now, standing in the quiet solitude of your apartment, it all felt like a cruel joke.

Your friends were nowhere to be found, each one preoccupied with their own plans. Some were with their significant others, wrapped up in cozy celebrations and shared kisses. Others had joined gatherings where you weren’t really invited—groups you didn’t quite belong to. It had left you with one single invitation, offered by a fellow friend.

You hadn’t wanted to go. The idea of spending New Year’s Eve mostly surrounded by strangers, music blasting too loud for conversation, wasn’t appealing. But as the hours dragged on and the weight of your loneliness pressed harder against your chest, you caved. You needed company.

You spent far too long deciding what to wear, pulling yourself together, and braving the freezing cold to get there.

The moment you stepped into their house, the air was electric with excitement. You scanned the room, searching for any familiar face. Instead, your eyes locked onto him.

Your ex.

The breath caught in your throat as your gaze swept over him. He looked the same but different. Familiar but distant. And then you noticed her. The woman standing at his side, her smile radiant as she leaned into him. His hand rested on the small of her back—the way it used to rest on yours.

The sight hit you like a punch to the stomach. Your chest tightened, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. The memories, you’d worked so hard for past months to bury, clawed their way back to the surface, bringing with them a mix of heartbreak and humiliation. Your heart stung again.

You stumbled back, barely managing a weak excuse to leave. You didn’t even wait for your friend to notice you before you slipped away, the cold night air stinging your cheeks as tears blurred your vision.

Back home, the dam broke. The tears you’d held in since the breakup—since the countless small heartbreaks that followed—came flooding out. You sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands as sobs wracked your body.

The clock on your phone read 10:37 PM. An hour and a half until midnight, and you were certain it would be the loneliest New Year’s Eve you’d ever known. You didn’t even care about the dress or the makeup you made a few hours ago. The dress was already switched for a hoodie and sweatpants, the makeup smudged by the tears that kept falling down your face.

You replayed the scene of him with her over and over in your mind. How he had moved on so easily, so effortlessly. As if you never meant anything to him. How everyone seemed to have someone except you. A best friend, a boyfriend, a girlfriend. Their special person, who would always be their first choice. The unfairness of it all, of not having a person like that twisted like a knife in your chest.

You felt so alone. You just wanted to stop always being the second choice for people.

A soft knock at the door startled you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You froze, your breath catching. For a moment, you thought you imagined it. But then it came again—gentle, hesitant.

Who could it be? Everyone you knew was busy now, partying.

Wiping your face with the sleeve of your hoodie, you stood and made your way to the door. You opened it slowly, unsure of what—or who—you’d find on the other side.

And there he was—Lando.

He stood there, a sheepish smile on his face and a bottle of champagne in his hand. His curls were messy from the wind, and his cheeks were flushed pink from the cold.

“Hi,” He said, his voice soft. “Can I come in?”

You stared at him, caught off guard. “Lando? What are you doing here?”

He gave a small shrug, stepping inside as you moved aside to let him in. He set the champagne down on the counter before turning to face you. “I saw that you left the party quickly, and I didn’t want you to be alone tonight.”

He noticed.

His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. You crossed your arms over yourself, suddenly self-conscious. “You didn’t have to leave the party for me, you know?” You said quietly.

“It wasn’t much of a party, nothing special,” He said with a grin. “Besides, I couldn’t stop thinking about you here, all alone. I just… I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Your throat tightened at the sincerity in his voice, and you turned away, blinking back fresh tears. “That’s… really kind of you, Lan.” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando moved closer, his hand coming to rest lightly on your shoulder. “You don’t have to thank me,” He said softly. “That’s what friends do, right?”

The two of you settled onto the couch, the bottle of champagne opened and poured into the mismatched mugs you’d found in the kitchen to which Lando laughed at you. The TV played quietly in the background, a countdown clock in the corner of the screen ticking away the minutes until midnight.

Lando started telling stories, his voice filling the quiet of your living room as he recounted the ridiculous moments of his year. From the careless mistakes during races to hilarious encounters with fans. His laughter was infectious, and you found yourself smiling despite the ache in your chest that now seemed to slowly fade away.

“Fucking hell, you wouldn’t believe it.” He said, shaking his head as he finished a particularly absurd story about a mix-up at a hotel.

You laughed, the sound surprising you with its ease. “Well, at least you know how to keep things interesting.”

He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I try.”

The seconds ticked closer to midnight, and a soft breeze whispered through the slightly ajar window, carrying with it the distant sound of cheers and laughter from neighboring apartments. 

You glanced toward the balcony, the curtains swaying gently in the draft. “Do you want to go outside?” Lando asked, following your gaze. His voice was soft, almost hesitant as if he didn’t want to intrude on your thoughts.

You nodded, standing and brushing your hands down your hoodie. “Yeah. Let’s watch the fireworks.”

He stood as well, grabbing the champagne bottle and your mismatched mugs before gesturing for you to lead the way. You slid the balcony door open, stepping out into the crisp night air. It was cold but refreshing, the kind of air that stung your cheeks and made you feel alive.

The view from your balcony stretched out over the city. Lights twinkled like scattered stars, and in the distance, you could see clusters of people gathered on rooftops, waiting for the countdown with sparklers in their hands. 

The sky was clear, the inky blackness dotted with faint stars, a rare sight in the city. Everyone had waited in anticipation of the final countdown for the new year.

Lando joined you, setting the mugs on the small table by the railing. He leaned against the edge, his hands in his pockets, and looked out at the view. “Not bad.” He said with a small smile.

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Yeah, it’s not bad. Kind of quiet, though.”

He turned to look at you, his eyes soft. “Quiet’s not so bad. Sometimes it’s exactly what you need.” You nodded, your gaze dropping to the street below. People were starting to gather, their laughter and shouts echoing faintly in the night air. 

For a moment, you let yourself just be—taking in the sights, the sounds, and the comforting presence of the man standing beside you.

“Are you warm enough?” He asked, his voice cutting through the silence.

You smiled faintly, shaking your head. “I’m fine. I like the cold. It feels… cleansing.”

He raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Cleansing, huh? Is that what we’re calling it when your nose turns red?”

You laughed, nudging him playfully. “Okay, maybe it’s a little too cold.”

Without a word, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. The gesture caught you off guard, and for a moment, you just stared at him.

“Thank you.” You murmured, pulling the jacket tighter around yourself. It was warm and smelled like him—something clean and familiar that made your heart ache in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

“Anytime.” He said simply, his smile soft.

The countdown began, faint cheers echoing through the city as the final seconds of the year slipped away.

“Ten.” You whispered, glancing at the watch on Lando’s wrist as it matched the voices in the distance.

“Nine.” Lando stood a little closer now, his arm brushing against yours.

“Eight!” The voices of the people outside were heard in the distance.

You looked up at him, your breath catching at the way the city lights danced in his eyes.

“Seven!”

He turned his head, his gaze meeting yours. For a moment, the world seemed to be still, the noise around you fading into the background.

“Six!”

“Thank you, Lan.” You said softly, your voice almost lost in the wind.

His brows furrowed, confusion flickering across his face. “For what?”

“For being here,” You confessed, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. “For not letting me be alone tonight. It means more than you know.”

“Five!”

Lando’s expression softened, and he reached out, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” He said quietly. “I really wanted to be here.”

“Four!”

The words settled in your chest, warm and heavy. You held his gaze, the world around you fading away.

“Three!”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding as you gathered your courage. “Lando?”

“Two!”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?” You asked softly, staring deeply into his shining eyes.

“One!”

The fireworks exploded overhead, vibrant bursts of color lighting up the sky. Lando didn’t answer with words. Instead, he closed the distance between you, his hand cupping your cheek as he leaned in.

“Happy New Year!”

The kiss was soft, tender, and everything you didn’t know you needed. The warmth of his lips against yours chased away the chill of the night, leaving you breathless and weightless all at once. A tear slipped down your cheek, feeling overwhelemed with the emotions.

When you pulled away, the fireworks continued to bloom above you, their colorful lights reflecting in his eyes as he smiled at you. “Happy New Year.” He said softly, his forehead resting against yours, gently wiping away your tears with his hand.

You smiled, your chest swelling with a hope you hadn’t felt in months. “Happy New Year, Lan.”

The two of you lingered on the balcony, watching the fireworks in comfortable silence. His arm found its way around your shoulders, pulling you close as the final bursts of color lit up the night sky. The weight that had pressed down on you all evening seemed to lift, replaced by something lighter, something warmer.

Eventually, the fireworks faded, and the city settled into the quiet hum of a new year. But neither of you moved. The cold didn’t matter, nor did the late hour. All that mattered was the warmth of his presence, and the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered at that moment.

“Lan?” You said softly, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?”

You hesitated for a moment, trying to rethink your question, before finally asking, “Why did you really come tonight?”

He was quiet for a moment, “I told you already. It's because I care about you,” He said finally. “And I didn’t want you to feel like you were alone. No one deserves that, especially not you.”

Your throat tightened at the sincerity in his voice, and you blinked back the tears that were again threatening to fall. “Thank you.” You whispered.

He turned to you, his expression serious. “You don’t have to thank me. I really wanted to be here. And I— I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.”

His words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You looked at him, your heart pounding as you searched his face. “Lan,” You said softly, your voice trembling. “I think I—”

He cut you off with another kiss, this one deeper, more certain. And in that moment, with the city quiet around you and his arms holding you close, you felt something shift. 

The pain of the past year didn’t completly disappear, but it felt smaller, and less consuming.

For the first time in months, you felt hope. And you knew that with the new year starting, a new, better chapter of your life was starting with it.

© haniette | 2025, all rights reserved.

reuploads and likes are highly appreciated ♡

[morganaawriterr]

Two;

SYNOPSIS ➺ In a marriage born out of convenience and plagued by bitterness, You and Sunghoon find yourselves trapped in a cycle of cold indifference and unspoken resentment. Your quiet strength and tender care begin to reach the heart Sunghoon has so carefully guarded. Slowly, walls built from years of hurt and mistrust start to crumble, revealing a shared loneliness neither had acknowledged. With every tentative step toward connection, your hearts yearn for a closeness you’ve long denied yourself selves, leaving both to wonder if you can build something real from the ashes of your forced bond.

NAVIGATION ➺ Intro - 01 - 02 - 03 - 04 - 05

PAIRING ➺ fem!reader X husband!Park Sunghoon

GENRE ➺ Arranged Marriage trope; Slow Burn; Angst; Fluff; Smut (kinda)

WARNINGS ➺cursing, mention of pills (some are drugs); abuse; mentions of blood; sexual content; injuries; heavy themes; juicy tension ;)

MUSIC ➺ Listen to 'nevertheless ost' and 'the trunk ost'!!

DISCLAIMER ➺ This story is fiction, and it does not reflect real life in any way. This story is heavily inspired by the kdrama 'The Trunk' on Netflix but with a special twist!

WORDS ➺ 6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE ➺ Chapter 02 is here and i'm so excited AHHH. I love this chapter very, very much... the tension between them is growing stronger as time goes by and it's so fun to write! I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it!! Thank you for all the love and support. It means everything to me <3

You found it strange at first, but now, it’s a little easier to get used to his company. After having a meal with you the other day, Sunghoon comes down every morning for breakfast. He usually doesn’t say much, his grogginess still holding him hostage. Still, he seems more comfortable with you now, and it makes you feel good.

Today is different, though. Instead of cooking breakfast, you woke up early, went to his favorite bakery, and bought some fresh pastries. Sunghoon wakes up and finds it strange how quiet the house is, knowing you’re always loud when cooking. As he slowly approaches the kitchen, you try to hide a smile, excited to see his reaction.

“Woah, when did you buy these?” Sunghoon’s deep voice sounds surprised and excited as he steps inside. The delicious smell of freshly baked goods and brewed coffee fills the room.

You smile at him. “I went to get them half an hour ago!” you explain, handing him his warm mug of coffee. Sunghoon closes his eyes, inhaling the steam rising from the mug, then shifts his attention to you.

“Thank you, for all of this,” he confesses softly, his voice carrying a hint of embarrassment.

Your attentive eyes meet his, and you respond with a gentle smile. As your brown eyes lock with his, the mood suddenly shifts. The quiet within the house becomes almost deafening, and Sunghoon finds himself mesmerized by your face.

Your long lashes frame your eyes perfectly, and your skin looks soft, inviting his touch. The fullness of your cheeks gives you an adorable, youthful glow. But what captivates him most is your mouth—your pink, plump lips. Sunghoon can’t tear his eyes away from them, entranced, not even registering the words you’re saying.

“Did you even hear me?” you tease, tilting your head with a soft laugh.

“Sorry…” he mumbles, warmth creeping up his cheeks.

“I said… do you want to have dinner with me today?” you repeat, watching his expression closely. Sunghoon looks at you with a gaze you can’t quite decipher.

The truth is, he’s rarely home for lunch or dinner. You don’t know if it’s because he eats at work or simply forgets to feed himself, but when he returns, it’s always past 10 p.m., and you’re already waiting for him in the living room.

“Yeah,” he replies simply, though his mind is racing with countless thoughts.

“Great!” you say, a shy smile tugging at your lips as you take a sip of your coffee.

The silence that follows is familiar and comforting. The two of you eat quietly, occasionally glancing at the TV for the daily news. Today feels lighter—the sun is streaming through the blinds, spreading warmth throughout the house and making it seem cozier despite the usual distance between you two.

After a few minutes, Sunghoon rises from the table and prepares to leave for work, murmuring a quiet “see you later” as the door shuts behind him. You linger at the table, reflecting on the past few weeks and all the small moments you’ve shared with him.

You still stand by your words: you aren’t trying to seduce him. All the patience and care you’ve shown him stem from a deep understanding of his scars. Despite his cold demeanor, you know he’s a good man.

When you first started living together, you and Sunghoon barely interacted. You avoided each other, sneaking around the house to minimize contact. But the effort was draining. Eventually, you decided it would be better to try and get on his good side—to make your shared life less painful.

It felt easier to have him as a friend rather than an enemy, so you began doing for him what you once wanted to do for your old lover. You woke up early to prepare his meals, offering him quiet companionship and care. Though it was difficult at first, you persisted, and over time, it worked.

As you get up to clean the breakfast mess, your thoughts drift to Sunghoon in a way you never expected. His deep, dark-brown eyes carry so much pain, and their intensity quickens your pulse. His smile, with those pointy fangs that peek out, is disarmingly seductive. The first time you saw him smile, it felt as though he had cast a spell on you, his lips so red and inviting…

You chuckle softly, shaking your head at yourself. It’s a hollow laugh, tinged with self-deprecation because you feel pathetic for thinking about him this way. You know he’s still attached to his ex-fiancée—it’s written all over his face whenever he looks at you, as if he’s searching for her in you.

The cold water from the sink jolts you back to reality as you wash the dishes. You remember the promise you made to yourself: you can’t let yourself get lost in his beautiful eyes or unexpectedly warm smile—not when you still love someone else. The thought of that man makes tears well up in your eyes, the ache of missing him cutting deep.

Shaking your head gently, you focus on the task at hand, unwilling to unpack those emotions now. You continue your chores, your empty mind guiding you through each task. It’s not healthy to suppress your feelings, but it’s the only way you can cope.

Upstairs, just as you finish making your bed, you hear the front door close. Plastering on a smile, you walk to the corridor.

“Get over here, silly!” Sunghoon’s mom calls out playfully, her tired eyes lighting up as she looks at you from the main floor.

You let out a genuine laugh and hurry downstairs, your steps echoing on the stone staircase.

“I forgot you were coming!” you pout, opening your arms for the warm hug she eagerly gives you.

“It’s okay, sweetie. Let’s sit down,” she says, patting the empty space on the sofa.

Before joining her, you head to the kitchen to prepare two cups of tea. Knowing her preferences, you take your time, listening as she talks about her plans for a new coffee shop. Her ability to turn mundane topics into captivating stories never ceases to amaze you. Once the tea is ready, you return to the sofa, fully engrossed in her words.

“But enough about me,” she says, her voice softening. “How’s Sunghoon?”

You sip your tea, a faint blush creeping across your cheeks. “I think he doesn’t hate me anymore,” you joke, though the fact that was true before, stings.

“Really? What about the pills? Is he still taking them?” she asks, her tone tinged with concern.

“I think he’s stopped,” you reply thoughtfully. “At least, he’s been sleeping well. Sometimes, he falls asleep in the living room when we hang out before bed. No pills.”

“That’s wonderful news!” she says with a tender smile, relief evident in her expression. “Is he still ignoring you?”

You hesitate, feeling a need to maintain some boundaries despite your fondness for her.

“Not anymore,” you answer after a pause. “We’ve been having breakfast together.”

Her eyes widen in surprise, though a knowing smile spreads across her face. She had always believed this moment would come, which is why she chose you for her son in the first place.

Sunghoon’s mom has known you since you were a child. Your mother was her friend, so you grew up around her. She knows your struggles—the good and the bad—and has always been a source of comfort and understanding.

As Sunghoon’s mom quietly admires your beautiful face she gets flashbacks of your red, puffy face as you cried all the water you had in your body in her arms. That night had been particularly hard for you.

Your own mother was cold and distant, especially after your father left. But unlike her, Sunghoon’s mom had always been there for you. Her words were soothing, her embrace secure, and you trusted her implicitly.

When she proposed the idea of marrying Sunghoon, promising you a life free from financial struggle, you accepted. She believed you had the patience and warmth her son needed, while he could be the love you longed for.

“I hope you two grow even closer,” she says warmly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “You deserve all the love in the world, hun.”

Tears prick your eyes as you try to believe her words, though your past makes it hard.

“Sunghoon is a good man,” she continues. “I told you, he just needed patience and care.”

You fidget nervously, your free hand twisting in your lap. “It hurts when he talks about his past,” you admit quietly.

She notices the way your eyes soften when you speak of him. There’s a brightness there that fills her with hope.

“He’s been through a lot,” she agrees, guilt flashing across her face. “I hope, one day, he shares everything with you. I hope you won’t be scared or pity him—I hope you’ll understand and help him heal.”

Her serious tone leaves your mind racing. Has Sunghoon endured more than just a lack of his father’s love? Has he suffered in ways you can’t yet imagine?

Sensing your thoughts, she quickly adds, “It’s all in the past now, I hope.”

Your hesitant eyes meet hers again, and a warm feeling surges in your chest. You know Sunghoon resents his mother, but you don’t understand why—not when she’s always been so kind and supportive to you.

As she sets down her empty mug and kisses your forehead goodbye, you find yourself wondering why Sunghoon refuses to speak to her. Was she neglectful too? Or complicit in his father’s abuse?

You wanted this dinner to be perfect. It had to be, so you could maintain the good atmosphere between you and Sunghoon. But you should have known better, because just as the day had turned dark and moody, so too would your precious dinner.

You wore something elegant yet simple, not wanting to scare him off: black dress pants and a beautiful cropped red shirt with the first two buttons undone, exposing your collarbones. Your hair, usually free and wild, was carefully tied in a low bun.

On your hands, you wore your expensive wedding ring alongside another silver ring you'd bought years ago. A thin necklace hung around your chest, paired with your favorite perfume.

The potatoes and fish were already cooking in the oven when Sunghoon arrived, their delicious aroma drawing him to the kitchen and making his stomach growl. He hadn’t eaten all afternoon, eagerly waiting for this meal with you. One of the things he loves most about you is your cooking—you’ve won his heart through his stomach.

Peeking inside, Sunghoon watched as you paced around the kitchen, finishing up the meal. His curious eyes traveled over your figure, taking in the way your small frame looked incredibly beautiful in the semi-formal clothes. Your legs fit the straight-leg pants perfectly, accentuating your waist and the bold red of your shirt caught his attention immediately.

His curious gaze shifted from the buttons to your collarbones, deliciously exposed for him to admire. You have such an alluring neck... it looks like his head would fit there perfectly.

Images of him planting slow, wet kisses along your neck clouded his mind. He imagined the way you’d close your eyes, the soft moan you’d let out, and the way you’d probably call his name with a breathy voice.

Sunghoon shook his head, trying to pull himself out of his thoughts. Was this magnetic pull because you were a beautiful woman and he was just a man? Or was it something deeper? He rolled his eyes at himself, dismissing the thought.

“Don’t just stand there! Come in, sit down!” Your voice broke through his daydreaming, catching him off guard.

Sunghoon didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he slowly stepped into the kitchen and sat down, watching as you moved to the corner and reached for the top drawer. He observed your futile attempt to grab the handle, standing on tiptoes and stretching as far as you could without success.

Feeling his intense gaze, you turned around and shot him a quick look. You wished he’d just get up and help, but instead, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, waiting for you to ask.

Frustrated, you bit your lip. “Can you… help me?” you said softly, hating that he made you ask.

“Sure, I can,” Sunghoon replied with a smirk as he finally stood and walked toward you. Your eyes followed his every move, and as he stood close, you could feel the warmth radiating off him.

“I want the bread,” you muttered, turning away shyly.

Sunghoon easily reached for the cupboard, grabbed the bread, and placed it on the counter. Then, his deep brown eyes locked with yours.

For a moment, the world seemed to quiet down. You became hyper-aware of your quick breaths and his intoxicating cologne. Sunghoon couldn’t explain it, but the way your brown eyes stared into his made him shiver.

A sudden clap of thunder startled you, making you jump.

The spell was broken as your eyes darted around the room nervously. Sunghoon took the chance to sit back down, trying to ease the heavy feeling in his chest.

“I’m just going to cut the bread, and then dinner will be ready!” you said quickly, your voice making your nervousness easy to spot.

Sunghoon nods and reaches for his phone, forgotten in his pocket. As soon as he unlocks it, he finds a series of unread texts. Most of them were from his ex-fiancée, asking how his day had been and whether he liked the pills she had given him. He sighed deeply, his thumb hovering over the reply box—until you called his name.

“Sunghoon…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He immediately stood and rushed over. Your glossy eyes met his as one of your hands shook, clutching the other.

“What? What’s wrong?” he asked, alarmed. He’d never seen you cry before. But then his gaze dropped to the floor, where a thick drop of blood splattered onto the tiles. “Y/N…” he murmured, his voice heavy with concern.

He gently pried your hands apart and froze, horrified at the sight. Blood dripped from your right palm in thick droplets, painting the floor red. Tears spilled from your eyes as you stood there, frozen and scared.

Sunghoon panicked. He grabbed paper towels, pressing them against your hand, but they were quickly soaked through.

“You’re going to be okay,” he reassured, his voice firm as he cupped your chin and forced you to meet his gaze. His fingers brushed against your cheek, though he resisted the urge to wipe away your tears.

You nodded silently, doing as he instructed. Sunghoon quickly wrapped a kitchen towel around your hand and guided you to the door. Your mind was hazy and unfocused, his warm touch still lingering on your skin.

Kneeling, he helped you slip on a pair of his trainers—the closest shoes he could reach, not caring if they were too big. Then, grabbing his coat, he guided you outside toward his car.

The drive to the hospital was short but tense. Raindrops streaked the windows, blurring the city lights as you stared outside, tears silently slipping down your cheeks. You weren’t sure why you’d frozen or why you couldn’t stop crying. The pain wasn’t severe. Perhaps it was the frustration of ruining what was meant to be a perfect dinner. Or maybe it was the way Sunghoon had immediately dropped everything to help you, his eyes full of worry and his hands trembling.

At the hospital, they quickly took you in, leading you to a small room where they began treating your wound. But the image of Sunghoon standing helplessly in the hallway, his hands stained with your blood, remained vivid in your mind. You barely registered the doctor stitching your palm as you replayed the scene over and over.

“Are you okay? Did it hurt? Did they treat you well? If not, just say the word, and I’ll make them pay for it. I’m rich enough to make it happen,” Sunghoon said as he leaned toward you, his voice full of genuine concern.

His worry was so evident that it made you want to cry all over again. Your heart ached as you watched him speak, his lips moving gently as his words flowed. You were too tired to respond, your vision blurring from exhaustion.

Noticing the pale color of your face and the dark circles under your eyes, Sunghoon softened. “Sit here. I’ll talk to the receptionist, and then we’ll go get something to eat,” he said with a gentle smile.

“This is actually better than I expected,” Sunghoon mumbles, taking a sip from his Coca-Cola bottle. He sneaks a glance at you, satisfied to see some color finally returning to your face.

“I love these so much,” you confess in a low voice, slurping the spicy ramen noodles.

Sunghoon giggles at the sight of you, noticing how the sauce has left a stain on your lips. He picks up a napkin and leans forward, reaching for you. You shyly lean closer, assuming he’s about to wipe your mouth for you—and he does. Awkwardly.

“I thought you wanted to…” you mumble, a red blush spreading across your cheeks as it dawns on you that he probably meant to hand you the napkin, not clean your mouth himself.

Sunghoon bursts out laughing again, finding your innocence endearing. Your wide, confused eyes meet his as he sets the dirty napkin down.

“It’s okay. I forgive you this time—only because you’re injured,” Sunghoon teases, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

The two of you continue eating in silence, your gaze drifting to the window. You lazily watch the people walking through the city streets. The rain has stopped, allowing everyone to wander freely without umbrellas, though large puddles still dot the roads.

The drive home is quiet once more, except for the soft hum of a slow, romantic song playing on the radio. You rest your head against the window, your eyes heavy with fatigue. Sunghoon glances at you out of the corner of his eye, ensuring you’re comfortable.

When you get home, you immediately head to the kitchen to check on the food still sitting inside the stove. You tried opening it, but your right hand was neatly tied around your neck, and your left hand suddenly forgot how to work.

Sunghoon rushes to your side and gently nudges you away. “Don’t worry, I will take care of it.” he insists, noticing the way your face twists in annoyance. “I know you want to do this, but you can’t. You need to rest.”

“Sunghoon…” you start to argue, but he cuts you off.

“Go to bed. I’ll make you some tea and bring it to your room,” he orders, his arched brow and stern expression leaving no room for debate. You pout but reluctantly shuffle away, irritated.

While waiting for the water to boil, Sunghoon carefully placed the food into containers, mentally promising himself to stop by during lunch tomorrow to try the meal you worked so hard on. Soon, the water starts to boil, and he pours some inside your favorite mug.

By the time he reaches your bedroom, his hands are burning from holding the mug. He suddenly realizes the water might be too hot, but his train of thought is interrupted when your door opens. You stand there shyly, waiting for him to hand you the tea.

The scent of chamomile is quickly overtaken by your familiar perfume, and Sunghoon feels his determination falter. His eyes roam over your figure. Your black hair is loose, cascading down your back. And you are wearing an oversized T-shirt, its open collar exposing your delicate skin. Then his gaze travels downward—only to find your bare legs.

Sunghoon quietly wishes he’d met you under different circumstances.

“Here,” he stutters, holding out the mug.

When you reach out to get the warm cup, your shirt lifts just enough to show Sunghoon that you are not wearing any shorts underneath. Your naked thighs are briefly exposed before him. His eyes immediately find yours, and his skin starts to tingle with impure thoughts of you.

You give him a innocent smile and reach out to gently pat his chest. “Thank you for taking care of me, Sunghoon. Good night,” you say softly, your voice dipping just enough to make him feel the weight of each word.

As you close the door, Sunghoon remains rooted in place, standing stupidly in the hallway. His breathing is uneven as he struggles to process what just happened. A shiver runs down his spine as he shuts his eyes, the image of your bare legs and loose shirt etched into his mind. He curses under his breath and runs a hand through his hair, heat spreading through his body.

Heading back to the kitchen to finish tidying up, Sunghoon notices his phone screen lighting up. Rushing to the table, he picks it up and realizes he left it there hours ago. The screen shows six missed calls and a string of unread text messages—all from his ex-fiancée.

Sunghoon takes a long, anxious breath as he glances around the expensive restaurant. The walls are painted terracotta orange, with gold details adorning the ceiling. Sunlight streams through the windows, reflecting off the polished surfaces and hitting his eyes, irritating him further. He looks away, his hands trembling in his lap as his leg bounces nervously.

From across the room, he watches her approach, the sharp click of her expensive high heels echoing loudly with each step. Their eyes meet almost immediately, and the calm feeling he’s so used to dissolves into unease.

As she closes the table, her perfume seems to be everywhere, invading his personal space and making him sick to his stomach. The truth is, ever since he had experienced your compassion and patience, his ex’s harsh demeanor had lost its appeal entirely.

“Finally, I get to see you!” Jiwon exclaims, her voice laced with a teasing edge.

“I wanted to meet you weeks ago, and you turned me down,” Sunghoon replies honestly, his voice firm but restrained.

She doesn’t respond to his comment. Instead, she sets her designer bag on the table with deliberate precision before scanning his face, trying to decipher the distance that’s grown between them.

“Do you not love me anymore?” she asks suddenly, forcing her eyes to glisten with tears as if to make him feel guilty.

“Jiwon…” he says softly, his heart racing with discomfort. He glances around the restaurant, avoiding her gaze. She had always been good at making him feel guilty.

“Is that bitch better than me?” Jiwon spits, her jealousy obvious as her piercing eyes stare into his.

“Don’t call Y/N that,” he warns, his tone clipped, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “No, she’s not better than you. And yes, I still love you.” His voice drops lower, unable to meet her eyes.

Jiwon smirks at his words, her chest swelling with pride. She knows Sunghoon is still under her spell, and she loves it. After all, she’s just as obsessed with him—so much so that she’s willing to do anything to make him hers again.

“I got these new pills,” Jiwon says, reaching into her bag. She pulls out a photograph with a small bag of pills taped to it. “I thought you’d like this,” she adds confidently, tapping the old photo of them.

Sunghoon doesn’t reply. Slowly, he reaches for the picture, his fingers hesitant and cold. Just as he’s about to take it, his phone vibrates with a message. Quickly, he pulls it from his pocket, already knowing it’s from you.

< Are you not coming? > Today, From: Y/N

< You could have told me. I made too much food. :/ > Today, From: Y/N

A wave of guilt washes over him as he reads your texts, cursing himself for forgetting to let you know he was busy. Jiwon leans forward, trying to peek at his screen, curiosity gleaming in her eyes.

“Was that Y/N?” she asks, her voice sharp as she snatches the phone from his hands before he can stop her.

“Jiwon…” he says sternly, his jaw tightening with frustration.

She reads the messages, her lips curving into a mocking pout before she bursts into laughter, echoing through the restaurant.

“Poor thing,” Jiwon sneers, her tone dripping with mockery. “She’s so desperate for your attention—it’s pathetic.” She pouts again, this time fake and exaggerated, her eyes glued to Sunghoon’s face.

Sunghoon grabs the phone back from her hands. “Is this all you wanted to talk about?” he asks, his patience wearing thin as the nausea in his stomach intensifies.

“Yes, hubby,” she responds with a devilish grin, sliding the photo across the table. “Don’t forget these—they’ll help you sleep way better than the other ones in just a few seconds” Jiwon assures him.

Sunghoon exhales deeply, his nerves stretched tight. He picks up the photo, shoving it into his pocket without a word. Rising from his seat, he turns and walks away, leaving a smug and victorious ex-fiancée behind.

You were back at home, eating in silence. Well, at least trying to eat. An uneasy feeling weighed on you, and all you could do was push the food around your plate with your fork.

You glanced outside for a few moments, admiring the beautiful day. Suddenly, your phone buzzed, and you reached for it at lightning speed, hoping it was a message from Sunghoon. But it wasn’t him—just your weather app informing you of the temperature outside.

Frustrated, you pushed your phone away with a sigh, hating how worried you were about him. Deciding you were done with the meal, you got up and tidied the kitchen. That’s when an idea crossed your mind.

The soft breeze against your skin felt freeing and comforting as you strolled outside. You smiled softly at the children running past you in the park. Soon, you spotted him sitting on a wooden bench beneath the shade of a tree.

“Oh my gosh, Sunoo, I missed you so much!” you exclaimed excitedly, wrapping your arms around him in a warm hug.

“Girl, where have you been?” he asked sarcastically, dramatically tucking his blonde hair behind his ear.

“You know, I’m a married woman now. And his house is ridiculously big—there’s always something to do,” you complained, rolling your eyes playfully.

The two of you caught up, chatting about your dramatic marriage and his skyrocketing career as a fashion designer. He looked genuinely happy as he spoke, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

But your mind drifted, thinking about him—the person who had introduced Sunoo to you: Ni-ki. The thought of him made your chest tighten. Sunoo noticed the change in your expression, and his hand reached out to give your knee a gentle squeeze.

“Everything okay?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

“It’s Sunghoon…” you lied, shaking your head slightly. “There’s a reason I contacted you today. I need your detective skills,” you teased, a mischievous smile curling on your lips.

“Go on, tell me.”

“I think his ex-fiancée is behind all the pills he has,” you said in a low voice, the mood suddenly turning serious. “His mom told me he never had issues sleeping or anything like that. It was only after they started living together that he became addicted.” You paused briefly, choosing your words carefully. “And I know she’s still in contact with him. She keeps spamming his phone.”

Sunoo’s mouth fell open as he stared at you, clearly taken back.

“Wait, that actually makes sense,” he said, his brows furrowing as he nodded. “I can get someone to follow her—no problem,” Sunoo said seriously, his gaze steady as it met yours.

Then, after curiously looking at the big band-aid in your palm, he added, “Wait, what happened to your hand?”

“I cut myself cooking, it's nothing really,” you insisted, breaking eye contact. You knew that if he pushed just a little more, you’d crack.

Thankfully, he let it slide this time. A comfortable silence fell between you as your eyes scanned the bustling park, though your heart remained heavy with thoughts of Sunghoon.

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[butlervibesonly]

𝟕𝟑 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘/𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑

• Summary: You are an actress and Austin’s wife. Vogue has decided to make one of their famous interviews and you are more than happy to do it!

• Pairing: Austin Butler x Priscilla actress! reader

• Warnings: None, probably just my own admit that there is definitely not 73 questions cause it was so hard to make up

• Note: Hi there, loves! I watched 73 questions Vogue videos and I thought of this! All replies are from my head, and they are of course not personalized. Since we are all different you can change to reply for yourself, just like you would do! 🤍

“Okay, so Y/n, tell us what’s the first thing you do when you wake up?”

You smile, walking through your and Austin’s house.

“The first thing that I do when I wake up? I kiss my husband!”

“How would you describe your morning routine in three words?”

You think for a while, coming up with the three perfect words.

“Slow… cozy and… romantic.”

“Poetic! What’s the best part about being married to an actor?”

You step into your living room, camera following you to the couch.

“Probably the fact we get to live a thousand lives together.”

“Beautifully said! Is there any biggest challenge of working with your spouse?”

You chuckle, knowing exactly how to answer this.

“Probably film serious scenes. We can’t be serious when we’re together!”

You laugh, recalling the times when you and Austin couldn’t stop laughing while shooting arguing scene.

“What’s the most romantic thing Austin has ever done for you?”

Austin has done so many beautiful things but…

“Hmm... The fact that he married me and is spending the rest of his life with me is the most romantic thing I could wish for.”

The interviewer smiles, loving your answer.

“Ah, you two! If you and your husband could remake any classic film together, which one would it be?”

You laugh, as you look at your coffee table in front of you. There is the book that’s movie adaptation is your answer.

“Pride and Prejudice, indeed. I need to see Aus as Mr. Darcy flexing his hand!”

“What’s the secret to your on-screen chemistry?”

“There is no secret, we just go with the flow and let things come naturally.”

You stand up and make your way to kitchen.

“What’s one word that perfectly describes your relationship?”

“Passion.”

“Vintage or modern—if you had to choose one forever?”

You turn to your house, sensing the answer.

“Both mixed together! Duh!”

“What’s some of your most prized vintage possession?”

You smile widely, as you turn to arrange the flowers in your vase.

“A piece of jewelry that once belonged to Audrey Hepburn."

“Is there any classic Hollywood couple that inspires you?”

“Mmm… Love of Katherine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy was really interesting!”

You walk over to the musical part of your house.

“Wow! You have a lot of vinyls! What’s your go-to Elvis Presley song?”

Austin would love this question, but so do you.

“I would say… Where No One Stands Alone. The cover with Lisa Marie.”

“Perfect choice! If you could travel to one decade for one day, which one would it be?”

You sit down by the piano.

“The 1970s—pure rock and roll energy. Obviously!”

“Haha! I should have expected that! What’s your dream role that hasn’t happened yet?”

You look back at your roles and think…

“Something completely unexpected—a gritty, transformative role that challenges everything I’ve done before.”

“Y/n, I think fans are dying to know; what’s Austin’s underrated talent?”

With a grin you reply very quickly.

“He’s an incredible cook! Our kitchen turns into a five-star restaurant when Austin leads the kitchen and also, he writes the sweetest handwritten notes—every single one of them is a keeper.”

“That’s wonderful! What’s a book you recommend to everyone?”

You move to your bookshelf where you and Austin keep your books.

“Probably… Great Gatsby. Wonderful story and! Pride and Prejudice of course!”

You grin.

“If you could have coffee with any author, dead or alive, who would it be?”

“Jane Austen… Louisa May Alcott and… J. K. Rowling.”

“That would be fantastic meeting! What’s a fictional character you relate to the most?”

“That’s tricky one… Maybe Jo March? I love books, independence, and a little bit of rebellion.”

You lead the way to your yard.

“Who’s your dream co-star?”

“Meryl Streep.”

“Who is your biggest inspiration?”

You sit down on the porch.

“My husband—his passion and dedication push me to be better every day.”

“Do you prefer preparing for dramatic roles or lighthearted ones?”

“Preparing for both is fun!”

“Sweet or savory?”

“Sweet, anything homemade.”

“What’s your favorite movie that you and your husband have done together?”

You smile, thinking.

“Every single one is beautiful, but Elvis was fun.”

“What’s one film you both watch over and over again?”

“Easy! The Notebook!”

“Do you believe in love at first sight?”

“I do.”

You reply simply, because that’s exactly how you and Austin fell in love.

“What’s your idea of the perfect date night?”

“Good food, movie and each other’s company.”

“Sounds romantic! What’s the best meal you’ve ever had?”

“True, Italian Carbonara!”

“Who’s the funniest person you know?”

“Awh, c’mon… my husband again!”

“What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received?”

“That I am the best wife-“

You reply with love and affection.

“If you could own any piece of Hollywood memorabilia, what would it be?”

“That’s a tough one… I have no idea, probably script of Titanic?”

“Do you have any pre-show or on-set rituals?”

You nod.

“Listening to music eases my tense.”

“How do you unwind after a long day of filming?”

“Hot bath, and a good book.”

“What’s one thing your fans might not know about you?”

“I can’t go a day without reading a chapter from a book—even if it’s just a few pages.”

You chuckle, admitting.

“What’s your most-used phrase on set?”

“I am really clumsy sometimes so I say; Can we film that again?”

You can’t help but laugh.

“Cats or dogs?”

“Dogs!”

“Heels or flats?”

“Depends on where I wear it!”

“What’s your go-to accessory?”

You look at your hand.

“My wedding ring. Anywhere, anytime.”

“What’s a fashion trend from the past you’d love to bring back?”

You gasp, loving the question.

“Oh! I don’t know if this was ever fashion trend but I loved the way Princess Diana combined hoodie and cycle shorts!”

“What’s your signature perfume?”

“I love Miss Dior!”

You stand up and go your garden.

“Who’s your ultimate Hollywood icon?”

“Audrey Hepburn! I really love her, she was splendid actress.”

“What’s your dream vacation destination?”

You stop by your pool and smile.

“Some tropical paradise… Mauritius let’s say.”

“What’s a talent you wish you had?”

“I wish I could play the violin. Or any other musical instrument.”

“How do you memorize lines so quickly?”

You smile and raise your eyebrow.

“Who said I memorized them quickly?”

“What’s your favorite piece of furniture in your home”

“Even tho I can’t play it, probably our piano. I love watching Austin play it.”

“What’s one thing you always keep in your purse?”

As you remember, smile forms on your cheeks again.

“I carry a four leaf clover in my wallet. It’s my lucky charm!”

“What’s your favorite thing about being on set?”

“Making a lot of memories with my co-stars and having a lot of fun.”

“What’s a song that always gets you in a good mood?”

You chuckle and try to think of one song.

“I would say Dog Days Are Over by Florence & The Machine.”

“That’s catchy one! What’s your hidden talent?”

“Hidden talent? Haha, I have no clue!”

“How do you handle nerves before a big event?”

“Dancing! Shaking off the stress and nerves.”

“What’s your favorite way to spend a Sunday?”

“I love lazy Sundays so cuddles on couch, movies sometimes walks.”

You get up and walk to your house again.

“If you weren’t an actress, what would you be doing?”

You walk into the house and think about it.

“Probably… Fashion designer.”

“What’s your biggest pet peeve?”

“I really don’t like when you are talking to someone and they are not listening. Communication is a key.”

“What’s your go-to comfort food?”

“Croissants. Try the ones filled with chocolate!”

“What’s a moment in your career that you’ll never forget?”

“When Aus was nominated for an Oscar and both of us were surrounded by the actors we always looked up to.”

“What’s your favorite holiday tradition?”

“I love to bake gingerbread cookies on Christmas!”

“What’s the last book you read?”

You look back to your shelf.

“The last thing I read is From Here To The Great Unknown.”

“Who’s your ultimate style icon?”

“My dear friend Zendaya!”

“How cool! What’s the best advice you’ve ever received about marriage?”

You smile warmly, thinking of Austin immediately.

“Always support each other’s dreams, even when they take you in unexpected directions.”

“That’s beautiful, Y/n… What’s your favorite part of old Hollywood glamour?”

“The elegance—everyone carried themselves with such grace and mystery.”

You explain with a wink.

“What’s one thing about fame you didn’t expect?”

That’s interesting question you never thought about.

“How much more I’d value my private life once my public life got bigger… I appreciate the quiet moments away from it all.”

“How do you handle bad days?”

“Austin makes me happy. Always. Whenever I feel down he is my reason to raise up again.”

“Speaking of him… What’s a hobby you and your husband love doing together?”

“We try new stuff together! Whether it’s sport, art or anything else, we always try to do new things together.”

“If you could duet with Elvis on one song, which one would it be?”

You laugh, loving the thought of it.

“Well… maybe the classic Can’t Help Falling In Love.”

“What’s your biggest career goal right now?”

“Right now I focus on the upcoming projects, and do my best to make them happen.”

“Goos luck with them! What’s a quality you admire in your husband?”

“That he always listens. He can just sit there and listen to my hourly talking, but he listens every single word.”

You smile warmly, love spreading through your chest.

“What’s a quality he admires in you?”

“He always says I make any place feel like home.”

“How do you want to be remembered in Hollywood?”

“For my performances, but also for my kindness.”

“What’s your biggest hope for the future?”

“To build a family, a home, and a results of work I’m proud of.”

“And lastly what’s one piece of advice you’d give your younger self?”

“You don’t have to be perfect to be successful—just be real.”

From the many interviews you ever did — this was your favorite. Finally you could share the love and passion for everything. For your career, and especially for the love of your life.

[oshinsimblr]

hey friends! i was unable to post all of my early access content bc i'm sick. but i was able to post this video, which in my honest opinion are the major features in this 'romance' pack.

IS IT WORTH $40?

DEPENDS ON HOW BADLY YOU NEED THESE FEATURES TBH.

this review is brought to you by the ea creator network. all of my opinions are my own. i must disclose this per FTC guidelines #ad.

*i do not cover everything in the pack, only the things that stood out for me lol. i'm sorry i'm not used to doing full reviews up here

the attraction system is helpful and expands dating (which is great, but we've had mods that could do this for some time: pick your poison). the romantic satisfaction is the star here. i love being able to create one sided relationships and actually take care of our romantic relationships with sims. this is a valuable feature for me!

cupid's corner is a nice "hey i don't need this mod" anymore type of feature. prior to this i was using lumpinou's meet & mingle which allowed me to meet with sims (platonic and romantic). i dislike that you can not write custom bio's for your sims. i love the way the app functions, i love saving sims and adding them to our rel. panel - and getting to know them through the phone first. i wish we could've defined our sims favorite music/foods/color etc.

i'll admit it, i'm a sucker for dynamics. family dynamics from the sims 4 growing together are so good (minus the fact that everyone wants to be f*cking jokesters after one joke lol). but i love them! they really do impact my sims relationships. the different romance dynamics are interesting. for example: a strained romance dynamic makes it VERY hard for your sims to communicate. it's like your sims will randomly hug each other, but then 5 secs later they're upset. they want to love each other so badly but they can't lol.

now onto random things that excited me. you can go to cupid's couples counseling. i did not know we'd actually be able to answer questions. these sims had a strained romance dynamic and it was so bad - the therapist suggested we come back. but when i tried to schedule it again, they were booked and i had to wait to schedule another appt. which is great, because in the meantime your sims are going downhill fast and you have to keep the peace until then (if you choose).

there are new pop ups and invites. there's even one for a reality dating show lol. you can turn these off in game settings. (if you're wondering, mr. landgrabb never showed up at the motel he wanted to meet at. he stood my sim up. don't judge me, i thought there was simoleons involved).

new crafted dates are cool. you can choose whatever you want to do on them. there's new social interactions based on the activities you choose. you can also invite other sims to these (double dates woohoo!) you can also create crafted hangouts. i like these, i got this cute picture as a reward after a succesful crafted hangout. if you're familiar with mws weddings, it's the same idea. except this works well and isn't as glitchy lol..

another random feature i never needed, but now i find it useful. you can create your own relationship label that will appear in the rel. panel

it's unfair how gorgeous this world is... because there's nothing to do. this is all set dressing.

you can declare your love here.. at the wall of love.

you can buy flowers or edible sweet treats at this shop in the background.

you can get local food here. there are 3 new dishes and spicy hot chocolate. now, i'm not mexican (the world is inspired by mexico) BUT 3 new foods isn't cutting it for me. technically only 2, because one is a vegan option. no pozole, enchiladas, guacamole, tamales?? i'm a foodie, so i take full offense to that.

you can woohoo or sleep at the motel.

you can travel.

go fishing or enjoy a swim.

sit here and chat.

view this for a moodlet.

travel again.

check in a penthouse.

there's a nightclub, gym and lounge. but you get the idea.. there's nothing culturally unique about this world which makes me sad. no festivals? i'd love seeing a mariachi band play at the lounge. something. otherwise, keep the world and add more features right? i would've loved table proposals (sims 2 anyone?). or frisky couch makeouts. so many missed opportunities here.

there's more i could say but i feel like this post should be a little helpful in deciding wether this is a pack you need right now, or wait for a sale! i personally love having a complete colection, so i've always wanted every expansion. though i recieve the pack for free, i owe you my honesty and i want to start doing blog/written content because it's easier to process my thoughts through the excitment. i will enjoy this pack, i do like it, and only time will tell as i integrate it with my current gameplay. i hope this was helpful!

* if you remember, use my code OSHINSIMS at checkout if you decide to purchase this pack. that way, at least i get a % of your purchase and EA doesn't get all your coins 😉

thank you! just keeping simming, always stay wavy, peace x

[rose-lunaire]

music box | hannibal with a musician!S/O

dedicated to all the beautiful artistic souls reading this, i hope you like it!

pairing: hannibal x gn!reader

warnings: yandere behaviour, unspecified age gap, my lack of knowledge of musical terms

you met in the backstage of your first recital

hannibal was mesmerised by your craft, such mature and fresh interpretation of his favourite piece

“that was an excellent performance you gave us”

you nearly dropped your music sheets from shock

“o, oh, thank you so much, sir. to be honest, i was worried the nerves came through too much and ruined it…”

“i assure you, the concerto was flawless. mahler requires this uncertainty and you portrayed that beautifully.”

the way he said it seemed to lift all the weight from your shoulder; there was no room for question in his voice, just pure respect

“pardon me, where are my manners. my name is hannibal lecter and i would like to become your patron”

and that’s how it started: your relationship emerged from this contract and eventually evolved into friendship

in the end blossoming into something more

you always appreciate his remarks while practicing until late at night

he’s your biggest supporter!

always carrying your stuff from practice, saying he can’t allow you hurting yourself

he would massage your hands after long practices, kissing the tips of your fingers like the most delicate of flowers

don’t be shy about your callouses, hannibal sees them as a token of your hard work and dedication

they’re beautiful, just like your mind and heart

he would do anything to protect you from critique

once upon a time someone dared write an unpleasant review of your performance and it was the end of their career

their body was found in the trash behind the opera house the next day and on their blog posted an apology to you, saying they were paid and coerced to say those abhorrent things to you

you never found out about this case, hannibal took you on a retreat to a national park, free of any distractions to “gain inspiration”

he admires you as a connoisseur but also as an artist

he was a bit shy to showcase his work for the first time

but then he fell for you all over again when he heard you playing his pieces

they sound so different yet so familiar, he can’t focus on the notes and instead stares at your hands, mesmerised

you’re his porcelain doll, the most precious treasure he will cherish until the end of his days

displayed only for his deserving eyes, inside a beautiful box, dancing to his tune, twirling around laughing, his applause is the only thing you can hear

too beautiful for others to truly appreciate, you’re hidden away in his study

bound to be perfect

[yoonia]

Ever A Never After — story masterpost

⟶ Title | Ever a Never After (adaptation from Enchanted movie) ⟶ Summary | Growing up in the fairy tale land, your whole life seems to have been written perfectly in the books, with the picturesque life and the Prince Charming that you can see yourself having your happily ever after with. But your entire world turns upside down when you are suddenly sent into a whole new world, a different kind of universe where happily ever after doesn’t exist. Thrust into a new challenge and shown a new side of life, you find yourself standing in a crossroad. When the moment arises, would you find your way back home to your true love, or is the universe trying to show you that sometimes happy endings don’t have to be written so perfectly?

⟶ Pairings | Jungkook x female reader; Seokjin x female reader ⟶ Genre | Strangers to lovers!au, Fairy tale retelling!au, Angst, Smut ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; specific warnings will be added accordingly on each published chapters ⟶ Status / Current word count / Total word count | ONGOING; latest update: Ever A Never After: Act 2 - Part 2 (Oct 7th, 2024) - 51,865 words of n/a words  ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Feedback | Ko-fi | Music companion ⟶ Cross-posted in AO3 and Wattpad

⟶ Special Taglist: Ever A Never After

⟶ Story Note | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). In place of the coding, you’ll find a blank space as her name. Please also note that our main character/reader insert for this story has her own nickname that will be used in the scenes. While the story is adapted from the movie, Enchanted, with some characters and places that were mentioned in the movie added into this story, I will be adding changes in the story settings, characters’ names and background stories to fit the plot. That being said, as someone who has never set foot in the land of America, forgive me if there are some inaccuracies in the details that are being added here. I hope that doesn’t change your reading experience with the story.

⟶ Chapters

⇢ Act One. Andalasia, The Maiden, and The Dream Prince [“It’s you. The boy I saw in my dreams.” “It’s me. Your Prince Charming.” | Word count: 19,688 words | posted: May 21st, 2024 | Chapter Teaser]

⇢ Act Two. The Alter World and The Saviour [“I need to find my way back to the castle.” “What castle?” “Why, of course, I’m talking about Andalasia.” “Huh, right. Why don’t I just call you an Uber?” | Word count: 32,185 words | Chapter Teaser]

— Part 1. Welcome to the Alter World [Word count: 15,410 words of 32,185 words - posted on: Sept 16th, 2024] — Part 2. The World Without Magic [Word count: 16,755 of 32,185 words - posted on: Oct 7th, 2024 ]

⇢ Act Three. Fairy Tales and Bittersweet Endings [“You forgot to say the part where you lived happily ever after.” “Happily ever after? That thing doesn’t exist, not in the real world.” | Word count: — | Chapter Teaser]

⇢ Act Four. The Ball for The Kings and Queens and Dragons [“There is a ball for the Queen and Kings at the start of spring. Shall we go together?” “As your Prince Charming, I’ll be happy to escort you.” | Word count: — | Chapter Teaser]

⇢ Act Five. Prince Charming and a Happily Never After [“Look at how the tables have turned, as now I have in my hand the Prince who is supposed to protect the princess.” “Come along now, dear. You wouldn’t want to miss the ending.” | Word count: — | Chapter Teaser]

⟶ Fic talk & references

⇢ image reference

⇢ readers feedback & discussions

⟶ Patreon specials

⇢ visual inspiration board

⇢ fic commentary (coming soon)

⟶ Author’s Note | Originally commissioned by @pinkbtsarmy | It’s finally here! I’m so sorry for taking so long with this one. Thank you so much for commissioning me and for your endless support. As mentioned in our last talk, there will be some changes from the original prompt/details that I’ve made to make the story work better, but I hope you’ll be able to enjoy it still. I have decided to release this one as a mini-series to present the timeline more appropriately and make the storyline work. Have fun reading!

— © Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. unsolicited translations are not allowed.

[superpowereddonut]

Favour for a Friend (Sirius Black x Reader) - Part 1

This came to me in a dream and I had to write it down! I've never posted any of my own works anywhere, but figured it's a short little one-shot that I may as well put out there even if no one ever reads it! If I feel inspired I might turn this into a proper fic, but idk yet.

Pairing: Sirius Black x Female!Reader (No use of Y/N)

A/N: set at Hogwarts, fake dating trope

Warnings: Swearing, Sirius isn't gay (even though Wolfstar is obviously canon lol)

Word count: 1401

Read part 2 here.

*****

Barely catching her breath enough to mutter the password, the Gryffindor girl rushed into the common room, all windswept hair, flushed cheeks and wide eyes. She spotted the Marauders all lounging by the fire (except Peter - he was always off snogging Dorcus in a closet these days) and made a beeline straight for them. Remus was squashed awkwardly in an armchair, a book open against his long legs where they were draped over one arm and his back resting against the other. James was sitting up on one end of the adjacent couch, his transfiguration homework in his lap, with Sirius sprawled at the other end, legs stretched out in front of him, head tipped back and eyes closed, listening to the music emanating from the record player nearby.

She felt a twinge of regret when the cosy atmosphere broke as she stormed over, her gaze flicking over each of them before settling on Sirius, who had cracked an eye open to look at her, now standing on the carpet in front of the fire.

“Black, I need you to be my boyfriend.”

James and Remus both snapped their heads up at that, and Sirius’ eyebrows rose. “Excuse me?”

“Lucas Davis just asked me out again!” The three boys in front of her seemed to let out a simultaneous groan. They were almost as sick as she was of Davis, the irritating Gryffindor two years above them who had been hellbent on wooing her for almost four months now. Unlike James, who had been smitten with Lily since they were eleven and asked her out at least once a week, Davis was aggressive - cornering her in half-empty hallways only to speak over her, invading her personal space whenever he got the chance, and making creepy sexual innuendos anytime a teacher was out of ear-shot. At this point it didn’t even seem to be about her. He just liked the chase and enjoyed making girls squirm. Even girls who hated his guts.

“Just tell him to piss off”, James suggested with a shrug

“Oh jeez, thanks James! Why didn’t I think of that?” She rolled her eyes, “I’ve told him to piss off a hundred times, in a hundred different ways! But he’s relentless- convinced I’m playing ‘hard to get’ or some bullshit like that. The only thing I think would actually get the misogynistic bastard to leave me alone is if he thinks I’m already seeing someone. So,” she said, turning again to Sirius, “can you just pretend to be my boyfriend, Black?”

“Why me? Ask Remus - you two already spend all your time together, surely dating isn’t that much of a stretch!” She shook her head impatiently, “He’s gayer than Bowie and everyone knows it!”. The boy in question huffed a laugh, “Cheers, love.” She ignored him.

“Get James to do it then!” Sirius exclaimed, and the messy-haired boy next to him opened his mouth, sitting up straighter. He probably would do it, she thought, because he would do just about anything for his friends. The noble idiot.  “Oh please, you think anyone would believe that this lovesick fool has moved on from Lily?” She retorted, making a vague gesture towards James, who just grinned ruefully and relaxed back into his seat, nodding his head in agreement.

“And you think anyone would believe we are a couple?” She paused for a second, unsure of how to answer. Although she and Sirius had always been… sort of… friends, it was largely only because of her friendship with the other Marauders - mainly studying with Remus and playing quidditch with James. While they inevitably spent a lot of time together due to their mutual friends, it was true that they were at each other’s throats more often than not, she supposed. Remus was complaining just last week about their constant bickering and their incessant need to outcompete each other in every little thing. 

She was saved from answering by James. “Actually, a Ravenclaw in our charms class - you know, Macmillan? - asked me if you two were dating a couple of weeks ago.” 

They both turned to look at him, shocked, and he just shrugged, “he said he wanted to ask you to Hogsmeade but wanted to make sure nothing was going on between you and Sirius”. Before she could unscramble her thoughts enough to answer, Remus piped up from his armchair. “A girl in the year below asked me something similar recently. Thought she might have a shot with Sirius, but wasn’t sure. She said something about you two having ‘chemistry’ at that party after the last quidditch match.” She fought the blush that spread across her cheeks at the memory. They’d thrashed Slytherin last month and she’d gotten pretty drunk at the party in Gryffindor tower afterwards. She always got a bit flirty when she drank, and Sirius was a shameless flirt even when he was stone cold sober. They’d traded a few harmless remarks early in the night, and later, though she couldn’t really remember how it happened, she ended up dancing to some ABBA songs with her back pressed against Sirius' chest, his arms around her waist and his hot breath on her neck. It hadn’t led anywhere - in fact she had been pretending it never happened - but she still felt a burning pit in her stomach whenever she thought about the way he had felt pressed against her, or the way he had grinned and licked his lips when she turned around and they danced chest to chest.

She shook herself slightly and forced herself to look at Sirius, who was frowning at Remus. “Plus,” she said bitingly, “you’ve established a pretty solid reputation for fucking anything that moves”. Sirius scowled at her before roughly shoving himself up from the couch and strolling past her to the record player that was now sitting idle, the last track having finished. She watched his tense shoulders as he carefully selected a new record and switched them over. She softened her tone, “I’m sure Davis will move on and start pestering some other poor girl before long. I just need you to play the overprotective boyfriend role until he backs off.” She shared a glance with Remus and James when he still didn’t respond. “Please,” she finally relented. When Black still didn’t answer, now decidedly fiddling with the tuning knobs on the record player, she sighed. She’d have to find another way to deter Davis and it’d have to be soon - she didn’t know how many more times she could hear his sleazy “hiya sweetheart”, before she’d resort to hexing him. And that would probably just make him re-double his efforts.

She barely noted the sound of the gryffindor portrait opening to let someone into the common room, but then- “There ya are sweetheart! Bin lookin’ all over for ya!” She gritted her teeth, turning around to see Lucas Davis stalking towards her, that stupid fucking smirk on his face. “Can’t think why, given that you saw me an hour ago and I told you to ‘leave me the fuck alone’”, she snapped. She could see both Remus and James tense in her peripherals, probably preparing to tell Davis to ‘fuck off’ themselves, but Sirius remained silent behind her. Davis either didn’t notice the two boys glaring at him, or didn’t care, and he only smiled wider, “aw come on princess, don’ be like that!” He whined, “I think you just need-” 

But she never found out what he thought she needed, as Sirius suddenly stepped up to her side, casually slung an arm around her shoulder and drawled, “You heard my girl, fuck off and leave her alone.” Davis visibly recoiled, and she might have laughed at his shocked expression had she not been entirely preoccupied by Sirius' comforting warmth as he leant against her. “Your girl?” He sputtered. 

“My girl.” Sirius repeated, and she could hear the mocking smile in his voice, “Girlfriend, paramour, lover, whatever. The point is: fuck. off.” Even Remus seemed to be hiding a grin as Davis stood there, dumbstruck, his eyes darting between her and Sirius as though stupefied. She relaxed into Sirius embrace and intertwined her fingers with his where they hung over her shoulder. “Bye Davis”, she crooned, with a smug smile. He seemed to struggle for another moment before turning on his heel and striding out the door without another word.

[hauntedhokage]

𝐼 𝑤𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐼𝑡𝑜𝑠ℎ𝑖 𝑆𝑎𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑…

Itoshi Sae/Reader (gender neutral, no pronouns)

summary: Being in a relationship with Sae, naturally he's one of your favorite things to write about. This time, you feel a bit stuck.

word count: 1.8k

ao3 ✧ masterlist ✧ ko-fi

You’d been sitting at your seat for what felt like hours; the blinking line on the page taunting you — daring you to actually start working on your article. You weren’t under stress or pressured by a day approaching deadline, having a little over a week to get this sent over to your editor, your hands and your brain were simply refusing to cooperate. Words floated through your mind, creating ideas that sounded great until you tried to turn them into sentences and creating an internal frustration that you don’t know how to ease. 

Music proved to be more of a distraction than support, after you’d spent ten minutes switching between different playlist and albums you simply closed the app to avoid wasting more time. You’d opened the blinds for natural lighting, only to get distracted by the scenery outside and chose to close the blinds, but that then meant you had to get up and turn the lights on so your laptop screen didn’t risk blinding you. Then the screen still felt too bright, your fingers dancing between the buttons that raised and lowered the brightness of your screen until your phone lights up with a notification. The response to your editor turns into texting your friend about your dinner date and new jewelry, but you catch yourself before you open a game that you’d lose yourself in. 

You have an article to write, after all. 

The tentative title sits at the top of the document; the seven words antagonize you, delivering a challenge to type more than just the title that your brain refuses to give in to. Your notepad sits beside your keyboard, the singular page you’d written on half blank and giving you not an ounce of inspiration to begin typing. 

You’d had dinner with Sae, of all people, and loved writing about him, so why was this suddenly so fucking hard?

“Just staring at it isn’t going to make the words appear.”

The deadpan reminder earns an equally unimpressed stare as you turn to look at him. He’s leaning in the doorway, shirt draped over his shoulder while he drinks from his water bottle, and you’re immediately reminded as to why you were so distracted — he was in your apartment. You could’ve been watching him do yoga and work out, but instead you’d taken the tea he had made for you and sat down at your desk to get the article written. That was three hours ago (holy shit, three hours?), and you still weren’t done despite being so confident that you could finish your article quickly since you knew him so well. 

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have been so difficult last night.”

“I acted like I do every time we have dinner.” 

He was right, and that was the problem. You didn’t think he wanted your readers knowing that he made reservations months in advance and waited in the restaurant lobby for you when you were a few minutes late to ensure you were seated at the same time to prevent you worrying about having to convince the hostess that you were actually supposed to meet him rather than being a crazed fan. He probably didn’t want them knowing how soft and warm his hand was when it held yours on the table, or the way he gave you his undivided attention when you talked — the way he licked his thumb clean after carefully wiping the dessert sauce from the corner of your lips definitely would have to go unmentioned. 

It was hard to write an article when you couldn’t write your favorite things about him outside of his soccer. 

“What would you write if you were doing this?” He quirks a brow at your question, taking another long drink of water as you watch him unashamedly. “Seriously. You go to dinner with Itoshi Sae, what are you going to highlight?”

“His beautiful partner that joined us for a nice meal.”

“You’re no help.”

“Expose his new training schedule.”

“And what else?”

“Debunk the rumor that he’s being traded.”

“…and?”

“What we ordered for dinner. That’s it.” 

You supposed you could get a decent length article out of those three topics, and you would include that he waited for you to be seated because it was just funny that such a scenario had happened to you before and he needed to ensure you were never mistaken for being just a fan again.

“What did you order?”

“You’re a hopeless reporter.” Is all he says as he leaves the doorway, presumably headed to go take a shower. 

You choose to get up for more water, but detour to your bedroom to see if he’d kept the receipt from dinner so you knew exactly what he’d ordered for himself. 

Chicken salad, breast meat only, with no tomatoes or seasoning and dressing kept on the side. You’d had a pasta dish, and you’d both had a glass of wine and shared the dessert that he’d ordered.

Sae likes chilled white wine, preferably a dry Chardonnay but made do with what this restaurant had to offer. One glass only — he’s not one to indulge. I felt that the wine perfectly complimented my pasta, but I’m sure that was his plan considering that he waited until after we’d gotten our dishes to request the drinks. He’s just as observant of the field as he is when he’s in uniform. 

That last sentence is highlighted as needing your attention, since you weren’t confident in it but needed to keep going while you had the energy. 

You go into the rumors of his being traded to another team, highlighting why any team in the league would need a player of Sae’s caliber and desired the man himself for their team but putting in the exact quote from Sae regarding being traded. 

“Not once has a rumor spread about me been true, so anyone who believes a rumor about my status is a fool.”

I’d told him that he and his team were always swift to deny rumors before they could get as hot as this current one about a trade, and his response was only that this dinner conversation and resulting article was his denial of those rumors.

You always did get his news first, but you also talked to him every day whether the world knew that or not. Your reputation as the “Itoshi whisperer” came from your ability to look both Sae and Rin in the eye and ensure your questions were answered when you had them; Sae knew better than to snub you if he wanted your relationship to last, Rin apparently appreciated that you didn’t back down (but you had heard that from a third party, not the younger Itoshi, meaning more research was required there). Eventually the news would break that you were dating Sae, now making serious plans to move in together rather than living on separate continents with him rarely seeing his apartment during his offseason, which would answer a lot of questions from your colleagues and soccer fans as to why it was always you to break Sae news and why you were always right. 

Sae’s usual diet is easy to detail, last night’s dinner had technically been a cheat meal but only because he’d had dessert and was certain they cooked the chicken in something fatty — but aside from that he’d had the same diet for at least three years. His training schedule had recently changed to include more strength training that he’d previously done and also CrossFit. He hated CrossFit but you were going to leave that out for the sake of his teammates who thought he was enjoying doing that exercise with them (not that he was trying to make friends, but you liked his teammates so you were going to protect feelings where you could). You knew his personal records so you included those for the die-hards that tracked Sae’s every statistic, but then you find yourself stuck again. That was the whole article in Sae’s opinion, but how were you supposed to end it?

“I’m gonna order food, since I know you haven’t eaten.”

You choose to ignore the accusatory tone, waving over your shoulder while requesting that  he order from the Mediterranean place that had just opened. You were almost done, and you weren’t getting up until you felt finished — but now you were stuck on closing your article in a way that felt fulfilling. Conclusions were always the worst part, even in expository pieces, you weren’t sure you’d ever written something that had a conclusion you actually felt satisfied with before sending it to your editor. 

“Sae?”

“Hm?”

“How would you end an article about having dinner with you?”

“I don’t have an answer to that,” he comments, and you turn to see that he’d made himself comfortable in the bean bag chair he’d put in the corner of your office. “But I will remind you that we should go out either today or tomorrow to get your ring sized to fit better.”

“Yeah, probably tomorrow since I’m not really feeling like going out today.” You state, looking at your left hand where the ring would sit after it fit better and feeling the lightbulb go off. 

Perhaps that was how you solved all of your questions that had come up while working on this article. Announcing your engagement would make your relationship truly public, and would be the conclusion of your article since it had been the conclusion of your evening with Sae. 

Your night had ended with Sae handing you a ring box; reminding you that you had told him a couple weeks ago that you wanted to marry him and that he’d agreed that night that you should get married.  Apparently he'd ordered the ring that he’d spent the last couple months looking at online the very night and was waiting for the next time you two had a date night to give it to you. 

“What do you think about announcing our engagement?”

“You’re the people person,” he says, and you watch as he stretches a bit before relaxing back into his seat. “I’m with you however you feel is best to go about that.”

You nod your understanding with a smile, receiving one of his sent your way before he goes back to his phone — the device now rotated and telling you he was watching a match but choosing to stay close to you when he could’ve been on the couch instead. But you’d decided on your ending, typing a few sentences summarizing the night and how much you enjoyed dinner with Sae. 

I spent the evening with the best midfielder in the world, and ended the night engaged to him.

He’d have to proof read and edit it for you later, but you’re sure he’d keep that last line — Sae did love to show off. 

[julietsbody]

ultraviolence

words : 2,261

tags : gun kink , fucked with a gun , predator / prey , reader has a prey kink , peacekeeper ! snow , light sadism , size difference , size kink , obsessive behavior , power play , creampies , orgasm delay / denial

a/n : idk what came over me whilst writing this im gonna be so honest…. semi inspired by Cherienymphe‘s “everybody knows that i’m a good girl, officer” fic!!! its so good

p.s : this is also posted on my ao3!!! ( divider by pommecita )

snow barely had any empathy for people, let alone any districts. he was a man who fell into poverty himself, but he got out of it, he was a capitol and he’s friends with those that come from the highest statuses. normally people felt pity for those in the districts, they scavenged for food, or proper clothing. not snow, he thought it was a game to watch them snatch up fresh bread and run like their lives depend on it. because it does, they survive, they live another day and satisfy their hungers, if they get caught, they’ll be dead in seconds— especially if coriolanus catches them. 

he liked the power he had, the fact that he could do almost anything he desired and get away with it because the districts had been committing a crime anyway, he just stopped them from doing it any more. he liked that they would cower underneath him, beg for their lives, he liked that he had the power to give them a simple warning, to let them off the hook, but he never did. 

not until now. 

he found himself chasing yet another bunny, heavy boots padding behind your thin, poorly made shoes. 

something about the adrenaline rushing through your veins had a heat developing in between your legs, like it was a primal reaction, an animalistic urge. he nearly noticed in the way your steps staggered, but that could be lack of spacial awareness, which he noted that you had. you were so busy running in straight lines you didn’t even bother to juke him or to hide. 

easy prey, aren’t you? 

he thought that at first, until your steps suddenly changed, turning to the right. 

and you had disappeared between the greens and tall trees, his wild eyes raced around the all too silent forest. he tuts, a low taunt, “where are you, bunny?” 

his voice came out sing - songy, having your breathing shake from the tree you hid behind, your thighs pressed together. 

how was a hunt so intimate, so sexual? 

“why are you hiding from me, bunny?” his voice is softer, as if he’s pouting. 

you hear his boots snap twigs with ease, crush leaves into fragile pieces, dip through mud. he was getting closer, like a wolf stalking it’s prey, like he knew where you hid. you tried to hold your breath, to keep yourself hidden, but it was no use. he rounded the corner, and you ran into a sprint again, nearly dropping the bread you had taken. 

if you hadn’t dropped it then, you were sure to now. 

his arms took you into a threatening hold, at first pushing you into a tree, then slamming you against the floor when you wriggled at his grasp. his panting breath, your fearful whines, the begging that sat on your tongue silently, it was as if sex had been happening even with your clothes on. your tears well with tears at being slammed on the hard ground, and he feels the fabric of his pants tighten at the sight. 

“please,” here comes the begging, music to his ears, “it’s my first time stealing, i’ve never done this before—“ 

“is that so?” his head cocks to the side, holding down your wriggling hands, “i’m sure i’ve seen you before, doll.” 

“you must be mistaken,” your puffy lips part, breath heaving as you try to pull away from him. 

it doesn’t work, he just simply holds you down, he easily could with one hand if he wanted to, “are you calling me a liar?” 

it was embarrassing, truly, being so turned on by the way his voice deepened with firmness, by the way he held you down with such ease, “of course not, i would never—“ 

“you just did, though,” his tone is biting, typically he doesn’t let conversations last this long, but something about you was different. his eyes catch on to the way your thighs are rubbing together, not in a way to try to free yourself from him, but where you crave friction. “my, my, what do we have here?” 

his hand taps against your thigh, pulling up the hem of your dress, his eyes land on yours, waiting for confirmation. 

you immediately nod, it’s so quick, impatient, he adores it. 

his long fingers lace around both of your wrists whilst the other pries your thighs apart, noticing the way fluids soil your panties. 

“how cute,” he observes out loud, allowing his hunger to show in the way he nearly rips your panties apart whilst harshly tugging the, down, watching how your legs immediately fall apart into a spread, panties hanging off your ankle for dear life. you were so desperate, you were willing to do this in the woods, present yourself to a peacekeeper just because you had gotten horny merely off a chase. 

his hand smoothes against your right inner thigh, feeling goosebumps form in prickles, and the way you shiver underneath each touch. his hand is large against your cunt, a single finger moving through it to feel the wetness, your hips immediately buck, desperate for more. 

his chuckle is soon silenced by his hand raising to his mouth, just so he can taste your slick. 

removing it with a pop, a curt smile tugs at his lips, sweet, like honey. 

his hand smoothes down your inner thigh again, and you realize he’s teasing you, “officer—“

his thumb is threateningly close to your cunt, “hm?” 

“touch me,” you breathe out, “please.” 

how funny is it that the last time you said please to him you were begging for your life? 

“like this?” his eyebrow quirks, pad of his thumb moving to swipe against your clit, your back arches ever so slightly. 

the whine that emits from you is far too loud for his liking, so he hushes you with gentle shhs, thumb rubbing slow circles on the bundle of nerves. 

“you don’t want people to hear us, hm?” he hums, “to find out you’re letting a peacekeeper touch you in such ways, truly scandalous.” 

he can imagine it being front page of the district newspaper, girl caught fucking peacekeeper in woods! 

your fingers twitch in his grasp, finding his movements far too slow, and he finds your movements and whines far too annoying. 

he moves to plunge a finger into your cunt, making your whines hush to whimpers, unintelligible words. 

“real impatient, aren’t you?” his finger moves slow at first, watching the way your hips move against it in response, “maybe i should just put you in your place.” 

he removes his finger, watching the way you desperately clench around nothing. his hand moves to grab his machine gun, which he had ditched as soon as he threw you to the floor, he finally releases your wrists, you have a chance to run if you wanted to, but you didn’t— because you didn’t want to run, because the fear that filled you when he aimed his gun at you had even more of your fluids escaping the oyster between your legs. 

he moves to cock it, taking it off the safety. 

“fully loaded,” he reminds you, but also seems to be reminding himself. 

he seems to believe you don’t believe him in the way you look up at him through glossy eyes, and he moves to aim his gun at a nearby tree, one to your right, directly behind you. and he shot, birds cawed as they flew away from the loud shots, he noticed how you flinched, immediately moving to the safety of his grasp, and he only smiled, how adorable that you find safety in the man who had enough power to kill you in seconds. 

he hushes your fears, not reassuring anything about your safety as he moves the gun tip your legs back apart, one of his hands leaving it as he wraps it around your wrists once more, holding you back down in a missionary position. the hand on his gun was less steady now, finger tight against the trigger, it had you biting your lip. he traces along your inner thigh with the tip of the gun, “you’re gonna be a good girl, right?” 

he watches you immediately nod, so eager, “yes, yes, officer.” 

his gun passes a trail down to your cunt, pressing against your clit, he could shoot right now, the finger on the trigger was so tight, so unsupported. he could slip once and shoot directly into you, something about that thrilled you more, made your hips buck against the gun, practically riding the weapon. he admires your desperation, the way your face twists with pleasure as you move against the cool material that built the gun. 

he eventually pulls the tip of the gun down, until it’s at your entrance. 

he watches your eyes widen as the metal dips inside of you, spreading you open with ease. 

your hands flail in his tight hold, “it hurts— officer, wait—“ 

“hm?” he pauses for a mere second, “sweet bunny, you can take it.” 

the pain soon subdues to pleasure as he begins moving the gun again, pumping it in and out of you and coating the black of the weapon with your milky slick. whimpers of pain soon become moans of pleasure, the tears that had built a gloss over your eyes dipping down your cheeks as your eyes close, hips bucking against the weapon. 

“easy, bunny, easy,” his voice is strained, like seeing you cry awakens something within him, when your hips stop moving against his gun he continues to pump it, faster this time, “good girl, gonna cum all over my gun?” 

you nod, more tears escaping as the thrill of your possible death and the pleasure from the weapon that may cause it becomes all too much. a deep groan vibrates from his chest at the sight of you crying, lips parting to continue, “that’s it, good, good.” 

it’s as if you crying is enough to have him reaching his climax already, as if seeing you cry felt like jerking off. 

the gun widens the more it goes into you, stretching you until you’ll be nothing but a gaping mess from his gun when he’s done. 

so filthy, to be easily stretched out by something that has killed many, how terribly cruel of you, to be cumming on it. 

and the man who had done it is merely watching, admiring you like this was an art gallery, and you were the center piece. he notices the way you near your orgasm, as your hips can’t help but grind down on the gun, moans escaping past your nearly bitten to bleeding lips. and you start calling out to him, “officer, officer, please— can i cum— please.” 

a mere plead, and if snow was a good man, he would say yes, but he wasn’t one. 

“no, bunny, you ran from me,” his finger slides against the trigger, staring at you with a new tint glossing over his eyes, “do you think you deserve to cum?” 

“yes, i need to, i want—“ your breath quickens, mindlessly grinding down onto the gun. 

“no,” he pulls the gun out, depraving you of every wish. he notices the way you whimper, thighs pressing together and rubbing in desire to form friction. there was none, and soon he was tossing his gun to the side, tugging his pants and boxers down ever so slightly to free his cock, then prying your legs apart once more. 

he carefully moves himself between your legs, his hand around your wrists finally freeing them, admiring the red ring he left from how tight his grip was. the same hand moved to fall against your throat, fingertips dipping in to your delicate skin as he guides his dick to your entrance, carefully pushing into you. he feels you tense underneath him at the feeling of him filling you once more, the length and girth enough to reach your intestines, you were sure of it. 

once he bottoms out, he notices the way a bulge appears at your pelvis, popping up against the skin then falling to a settle with each thrust. his other hand moves to your mouth, his fingers spreading your pillow lips apart, your salty taste pressing against your own tongue. 

“taste yourself, bunny, so sweet, hm?” he grunts with each thrust, practically manhandling you with each snap of his hips, fingers dipping down your throat. he watches your eyes roll back, mumbling pleas for the satisfaction of your orgasm to finally come, your bodily fluids sticking to his pelvis and his dick, your walls pulsed around him, drooling onto his cock. 

he nears his climax almost immediately, nose scrunching slightly, “cum, cum for me, sweet bunny.” 

“officer—“ your back arches off the earthy ground as you finally reach your climax, moans vibrating against his flesh and he continues to thrust, riding out your orgasm, overstimulating you until he’s practically fucking you dumb. eventually, he bottoms out, pumping you nearly full of his cum. he moves his hand from your mouth, sticky from your saliva, and takes your panties off your ankle, pulling out and plugging your hole with your own panties. just so you don’t lose any of his cum. 

“there, now you can walk around with my cum inside of you, how sweet.” he takes his hands off of you, moving to tuck his softening dick away and standing. 

he offers your limp body a wink, swiping up his gun, and following up with a, “don’t let me catch you again, doll.” 

[lucyandalexiafan]

blow off steam | Alexia Putellas x reader | part 1

summary: since Alexia got injured two weeks ago, it's obviously that she needs to blow off steam; so, after the umpteenth attempt by her to have your attention, you ask her to take control, to completely dominate you.

Warnings: dom!Alexia, sub!reader, kneel at Alexia's feet, Alexia' fingers that fuck reader's mouth while reader in kneeling in front of her, humping shoe, face slaps (three times), humiliations, degradations, use of pet names / slut, light jelaous!Alexia, dirty talk, praise, hair pulling.

words: 3131

Do not copy, translate or claim my works and fics as your own; if I find out I will report them and block you. Instead, write to me, my directs are always open, and ask me if you can publish your work/fic inspired by one of mine. However, you can reblog them!

Nb: English is not my first language and I’m not sure if it’s “blow off steam” or “blow of some steam”. I searched online but I didn’t understood, so I’m sorry if it’s wrong the way that I used

I turn off the TV interrupting the program that Ale is watching, the umpteenth trashy program.

Since she was injured two weeks ago, she has become unbearable.

She doesn't come to the field during training hours anymore, she doesn't go out, she doesn't cook, and she doesn't do anything other than be on the phone and watch stupid programs on any TV channel or streaming platform.

It doesn't bother me that she behaves like this or, at least, I understand her, I try to understand her; so I do everything for both of us without protesting, without emphasizing how to take care of the house, shopping all the different type of food required by our diets, cooking different dishes for me and her every lunch and dinner (due to the variation of her diet), do not combine well with the study for my master's degree, with the research I am doing, and with my training with the team.

I don't protest, I don't snort, I don't say anything. 

I accept any comment about how overcooked the chicken is, about the fact that the bread had to be soft wheat and not whole wheat, about how messy the kitchen is.

I didn't even comment on the fact that she delegated the care of her dog to me alone, even though she can walk.

I accepted to study all night and write those essays at unreasonable hours, risking not completing my homework or showing up not prepared enough for meetings with university tutors, as well as showing up for training tired, exhausted and with less and less energy.

But today... today it's too much.

I had started studying in the kitchen, on the counter, because I had started cooking dinner and lunch for tomorrow; Ale was watching television. She knows, she knows, how much I hate having too much noise around, how much the overstimulation is a problem for me because of my ADHD, how much I go into crisis when there is too much chaos around me, no longer being able to concentrate and control myself, always ending up looking around, trying to figure out where all the voices are coming from and, when there are too many, ending up on the verge of tears.

She knows it.

But, despite this, she had started using TikTok at maximum volume at the same time as the television, creating an annoying chaos that could not even be masked by the music that passed through my headphones.

I had asked her to turn down the volume several times, I had even texted her asking her to stop because I had to study, telling her that it was important that I end that essay within three days, before the last game before the Christmas holidays.

After half an hour of trying I couldn't take it anymore, I got up, took the remote control and turned off the television.

"What are you doing?" she asks irritated.

The sharp voice.

I bite my lip.

We haven't had sex in two weeks and I haven't had an orgasm for three, and seeing her so angry floods my belly with sharps of pleasure.

Ever since we had started experimenting with sex, since Ale had started to be dominant in bed and I had started to feel free enough and trust her enough to be completely submissive, we had established 'rules'; one of the ones we started experimenting with first was about orgasms. 

No orgasms that aren't given by her or that she doesn't allow me to have.

It had not only increased libido and feeling in bed, but also communication. Since we had established this rule, we had begun to talk much more about sex, to describe how we felt and to provoke ourselves; I had begun to no longer feel embarrassed to express my sex urge or tell her what I needed. 

Begging her for what I needed.

So, after exactly three weeks since my last orgasm, I'm extremely needy.

Ale, at the same time, is extremely angry, disappointed, and resentful, about the injury and I know, I'm sure, that she would like to blow off steam on me, on my body, but she is afraid to ask for it, to do it. She's afraid because she's never done it before, because she's always afraid of hurting me and because she knows what I've been through in the past.

So now, because she doesn't want to express this need, she is short-tempered, rude, arrogant.

I kneel on the ground, in front of her, my legs slightly apart.

I look into her eyes.

She swallows the saliva, the phone still in her hand, as she jams her eyes into mine.

"I would like you to take control – I say, my voice trembling with embarrassment – I need you to blow off steam on me and I need to be dominated, to let you be in control"

I bite my lip.

The fear that he will refuse, that she will say no, that she will think I am crazy, increases when she does not respond immediately.

"You don't know what you're asking for, little girl" 

The low voice, the seraphic tone.

"I want you to take control Reina, I want you to punish me, I want you to use my body"

She lay her phone on the couch.

"You don't have to do it for me, i-"

"I want it, Ale, I need it as much as you do" I whisper, pleading, looking into her eyes.

Nails playing with a little skin on my index finger.

She nods.

"Are there any things you don't want me to use or do?" the tone is the one she uses on the field when she's the team captain.

That confident tone, which admits no reply.

"No, Reina"

I touch her right calf with one hand, the need for physical contact advancing in me; I play with her skin, just massage her.

She grins, looking at me.

She looks at me, her face slightly tilted.

She bites her lip, as if pondering my request.

"Now I'm going to make you a list of items or practices and you have to tell me with safewords which ones are green, which ones are yellow, and which ones are red, okay? – I nod – What are your safewords?"

"Green to continue, yellow to slow down, red to stop"

"Good girl - I twitch my thighs, a knot in my belly, as her hand brushes my cheek, a satisfied look as she looks down on me – then let's get started"

After a few minutes, I had established green orgasm denial, spanking with hands and belt, the use of the collar with the leash, the use of ropes or more generally in bondage, penetrative sex with both fingers and dildos, the use of plugs and strap-ons, degradation; yellow overstimulation and preventing me from speaking by putting objects in my mouth; red blindfold. However, I asked her if she could use pet names from time to time to reassure me, so the degradation and humiliation were not the only channels of communication during a scene we were experiencing for the first time.

I clasp my hands on my thighs, my belly invaded by contractions of pleasure.

"Have you had any orgasms since the last time I got you one?" the tone is so low that it gives me goosebumps.

"No, Reina" I hurry to answer; a marked blush colors my cheeks and neck because no matter how much we talked about sex, how much we started experimenting in bed more than a year ago, I will never stop being embarrassed when we talk about these things.

She grinns with satisfaction.

"Something as needy as you hasn't had an orgasm in three weeks, hm? – she asks as she strokes my cheek with her thumb, a fake smile of pity adorns her face – Does your need to be a good girl, to please me, also beat your need of an orgasm?"

I look down immediately, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

How can she make me so submissive, so needy, with just one question?

The panties are soaked, I feel them being uncomfortably attached to my intimacy.

"Yes, Reina, I just want to please you"

She moans openly at my answer and I see the muscles in her legs twitch.

I close my eyes to the sound.

"I don't think I told you that you can not look me in the eye"

I look at her, eyes slightly wider, position more rigid as I try to hold her gaze.

"I'm sorry Reina," I whisper guiltily.

We haven't even started and I'm already breaking the rules?

She looks at me for a moment and then her gaze, that sadistic, excited look, softens; a sweet, loving smile replaces the grin that had begun to adorn her face since she began to list what she could and couldn't do tonight.

"Amor, this is the last chance I'll give you to stop everything before we start, before I start punishing you and then take you to the bedroom, where only the safewords will make me stop – the suddenly cautious, sweet tone, like it's never been in the last two weeks – I'm not going to get angry, resentful or irritated if you tell me you don't want to go on anymore or that you're not sure anymore, baby, but I want you to tell me before you start because I don't want to start without being sure that you want it as much as I do; we will cuddle and maybe watching a film, order some takeaway food"

Her hand on my cheek, the back of my index and middle fingers caressing my skin.

I look at her, every fear gone, every tension leaves my body. 

She is always her, the sweet, caring, loving girlfriend who would never hurt me or continue something I don't want. 

No matter how much she needs to blow off steam, she would never hurt me.

I shake my head.

"I... I want to do it Reina, but-but only if you want it completely too" I answer, my voice trembling with embarrassment, but my gaze fixed on hers.

She smiles.

Her beautiful smile.

"I love it when you call me Reina, I'll never stop saying it" she whispers as she runs her thumb over my bottom lip, as she frees it from the grip of my teeth.

I open my lips allowing her to stick it past my teeth, into my mouth; she pushes it all in, until she hits my chin with her palm. I lick it slowly as I look straight into her eyes.

After a while she replaces it with her index and middle fingers, pushing them into my mouth slowly, and then she starts to move them, as if to fuck my mouth.

I go along with it, licking her fingers, opening and closing my lips against her skin. 

She groans looking at me.

"So submissive, at my feet, while you call me Reina – she pushes her fingers harder into my mouth, until she touches my chin with her palm again, and touching the back of my throat, gagging me – My dirty filthy slut"

I gasp.

I place my hands on her knees, as if looking for a support to hold on to while she fucks my mouth with her fingers.

She sneers.

I look at her from below, her lips slightly open twisted into a grin, her eyes veiled by sadism, her cheeks flushed, her tongue occasionally caressing her lips, her brow furrowed, the hair of her forelock escaping the grip behind her ears.

"Hands behind your back, I don't think I told you you can touch me" 

I groan in surprise as I hurry to do what she says, squeezing one hand into the other until my nails are in my palm.

The tips of her fingers touch the back of my throat with each thrust, and with every moan I make, she grins; She tells me to breathe through the nose when she realizes that, due to gagging, I struggle to breathe through my mouth.

She continues like this for some time that seems like minutes, she fucks my mouth with her fingers, her gaze alternating between my eyes and my mouth, a sadistic grin, until she takes them off completely.

I moan, finally free to breathe through my mouth.

She wipes the fingers against my cheeks, the back on one cheek, the inside on the other; the trickle of saliva that still connects them to my lips.

She puts her hand on my right cheek and I know what's going to happen.

"Disobedient little girl – the first slap is light against my skin, more for the scene than for anything else – Twice you disobey my orders and I didn't even touch you"

I gasp looking at her, her lips still slightly parted.

Then, as she walked away, her hand hits my cheek.

We both moan at the same time, her greasing and lowest, mine louder.

No matter how much I expected it, it's getting more and more exciting every time.

"Color, little girl?" she asks, an attentive look on my face trying to understand what I think about the slap.

"Green... green Reina" I moan.

"Dirty little," she whispers as she caresses my face, "So needy just because I fucked your mouth, hm?" she asks, as she runs her fingers over my lips, but without pushing them any further.

"Yes-yes Reina," I say cautiously in response.

Then, suddenly, she moves one leg between mine until I feel her foot, covered by her favorite and most expensive pair of shoes, in contact with my intimacy.

"Hump my shoe, slut" 

It's an order said as she leans back on the couch. She opens her arms, resting them on the headboard of the sofa.

I wade at her, my eyes wide open with the request, but my pupils probably dilated with excitement. I'm incredulous.

"Color, little girl?" she asks when, after a few seconds, I don't move, her voice warm, lovely.

"G-green Reina – I whisper hesitantly, realizing the time that has passed, realizing that by doing so I was disobeying – I'm sorry"

She moves her torso toward me, her hand grabbing a hand of my hair. "Do you want to add a third punishment to the two you've already earned, hm? – I answer with a faint no, Reina – Then, move" she continues, her tone suddenly more authoritative and dominant, no longer disguised as feigned pity, her back coming back into contact with the sofa.

I bite my lip and moan when I feel her shoe move slightly against my clit.

"C-can I put my hands on your leg Reina?" I ask, my voice faint, the need to touch her, for physical contact.

"Aw, little girl, can't you even keep your balance? Okay, grab my leg. You can lean against it however you want," the mocking tone.

My hands grab her calf.

My torso is against her shin as I slowly begin to move.

I'm wearing thin shorts and panties made of almost non-existent fabric, so with every movement I feel the relief of the shoelaces against my clit.

I moan, I whine, unashamed.

I squeeze her leg as I rest my head on the lower part of her inner thigh, just above the knee, breaking eye contact. 

As soon as the tip of her shoe starts to move against me, putting pressure on my hole, I start moving faster and faster; I'm not sensual, I'm not pretty bent over her, my back arched out, my head down.

"Dirty little slut," she says while her hand scratches my scalp "How does it feel to hump against a so expensive shoe that I've been looking for months in any shop in Barcelona, to be so slutty that you seek satisfaction and pleasure by rubbing yourself on a shoe without shame?"

I whine in humiliation.

"Please Reina, can I... can I-"

Her hand clenches in my hair, forcing me to look at her.

"Don't even try. This is just the beginning – she hits my cheek again – Did you think it would be so easy after disobeying me?"

I bite my lip, looking at her with the most puppy look I'm capable of; my vision slightly clouded by excitement and tears.

I open my mouth a couple of times, attempting to speak, but no sound other than a moan comes out.

When she notices that I am not responding, she stops moving her foot. "Color?"

"Green" I answer immediately, as I continue to move on her shoe, hoping that she will move again.

The shoelaces against my clit.

The contractions of pleasure in the lower abdomen.

She grinns as she looks at me.

She reaches down to kiss me, her hand still in my hair.

Then, as it all began, she moves the shoe away from my intimacy.

"How do you feel, hm? What would people say if they could see you like this, at my feet, desperate after humped my shoe like a slut, hmm? What would our teammates say if they saw you like that? – she grins, the hand that makes pat pat on my head – How do you think Aitana and Ona would react, mh?"

I close my eyes.

"None of them will be able to make you feel like that, reduce you like that, like I do. Not even Lucia. It doesn't matter how hard they try"

"Please, please," I whisper as I tighten my fingers around her knee.

The humiliation becomes pleasure, contractions of pleasure stronger and stronger, when she starts talking about the team, about my friends, about Lucy.

Of her jealousy of Lucy, caused by the fact that we are so close friends and that she is also dominant in bed; the eldest is openly dominant in bed, while Ale is much more modest in making her sexual performances public to the team. Modesty for which I am grateful, but which makes her feel clearly in competition with the English player.

"Please what, little one?"

Cheeks that burn when I hear the pet name.

Her fingers forcing my chin to look at her.

Her blonde hair is tousled.

"Touch me, please Reina... I-I need to-"

Humiliation breaks through my legs, which I immediately clench.

To be at her feet, to call her Reina, to be so desperate.

"I just want you, Reina... I... on-only you. No one else," she moans, "I beg you."

"Get up, go to our room and strip. I want you on the bed, on hands and knees. In less than ten minutes I'll be there."

[reidsbabyhoney]

hi love!

saw that you write for hozier, and was wondering if you could write something fluffy. maybe since the tour is ending soon, maybe him coming home for the first time in a while?

xx

in which andrew is finally back from tour and you couldn't be happier.

pairing: hoizer x fem!reader category: fluff cw: tiniest bit of angst if you squint. he walks out in a towel and reader has some interesting thoughts. no use of y/n. wc: 1.3k a/n: thank you so much for requesting! this was so much fun to write, I was listening to 'unknown' when this request came in so it is very lightly inspired by that. and by very lightly I mean I took inspiration from the line 'you know the distance never made a difference to me'. this is my first time writing in a while so please be kind. lots of love!! (also he looks so cute in this picture, I can't get over it.)

You were basically buzzing with anticipation. Having to stay in Wicklow for work had its ups and downs. One of the most notable downs was that when Andrew went away for tour, there were long gaps you would go without seeing each other.

You had seen him two months ago when he had the smallest break from tour, and you called almost every night updating each other on your days. Usually, you'd fall asleep on the phone due to the time difference, but he had the habit of carrying his phone with your sleeping face covering the screen until you woke up. Recalling the time you woke up when he was in the middle of a concert, his phone being propped up on a stand off to the side of the stage.

But today Andrew was finally coming home. No more music festivals to perform at, no more concerts to hold, no more award shows to attend. He would finally be all yours.

You felt a bit guilty, knowing how much he loved performing and seeing his fans, but you were counting down the seconds until he walked through the doors of your shared home.

The clock was inching closer to 6pm, which was the time Andrew said he would be home. Never being someone who had patience for much, you were sitting outside on the porch swing you insisted he install a few years ago.

Finally a black car pulled into the driveway and Andrew stepped out. Sprinting to him like there was an Olympic medal to be won at the end of your journey you jumped into his arms once you reached him.

"Missed you so much love." he says into your hair as he holds you up, making sure you don't fall from his tight grip around your waist.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're finally home." you say as hugging him tightly as if he would disappear from your hold.

Letting go, you get a good look at him and see his hair seemed to grow a bit longer in the two months you were apart. Though, he also seemed to have given up on the routine you've tried to have him stick to since you started dating.

"You're hairs grown." You admire how beautiful he looks, but that might just be because your boyfriend is a 6 '6 Irish man that looks like he came from the woodlands of a fairytale.

"Hm, you like it?" he questions looking into your eyes for a second before putting you down onto solid ground.

"I love it." With that, you make your way up the steps of the house, one of his lighter bags in hand.

Andrew follows close behind you into the house, not missing how every inch spotless and nearly reflective.

Andrew knew you well, too well sometimes. He knew that you got anxious when he was away, and that made him feel both relieved and guilty. Relieved because he was finally home and could hold you in his arms. Guilty because he was away for so long.

Sneaking up behind you, he rests his head on your shoulder as he wraps his arm around you.

"Y'know I'm home for good right. Got my studio right here and the label already knows I won't release a new album for a few years. I'm all your’s angel."

At his words you melt into him. "I know, but you know how I get when you're away. Especially when you're flying. Was just worried is all."

He plants a soft kiss at the top of your head at your response. Turning around in his arms you look up at him and see how tired he really is.

"Y'know I love you with my whole heart, but you really should get in the shower so we can eat."

He lets out a huff, releasing you from his grip. Turning to make his way upstairs you get the ingredients out to make a simple pasta dish. Something you know will be filling for you both.

You're nearly done with dinner, the sauce being the only thing that needs to be seasoned and you realized Andrew still hasn't come from your bedroom. He isn't one to take long in the shower so you begin to worry. Quickly throwing in the final seasoning of oregano and thyme into the sauce, you lower the heat on both burners being used, and make your way up the stairs to look for your boyfriend.

Stepping into your shared bedroom, you're met with a cloud of mist as the connecting door to the bathroom opens. Seeing your boyfriend walk out in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist made your two months of celibacy very known throughout your body.

"I see some drool slipping past your lips, love, best wipe it away before whoever it is you're lusting after knows." he teases lightly, before he walks to the dresser to grab some clothes to change into.

Shaking the thoughts out of your head as an embarrassed blush grows over your face, you clear your throat quickly as a recovery.

"The food’s done downstairs whenever you're ready?" It comes out as more a question than a statement, still flustered over your boyfriend's appearance.

Andrew turns his head slightly and gives you a knowing smirk, "I'll be down right after I change."

With that you leave him to change and quickly make your way downstairs.

Still a bit flustered once you get to the kitchen, you make a plate for each of you, putting them down in your designated spots at the dining room table, sitting next to each other.

You hear Andrew before you see him, softly humming the tune of ‘Unknown/Nth’.

Taking a seat next to you, he rests his hand on your thigh before digging into the food.

Acting like a man starved, he basically inhales his food before you've even finished half of yours.

"Do they not feed you properly in America or what." you ask, eyes basically popping out of your head, surprised he's already finished his plate

"Nothing could beat a home cooked meal of yours." he says, giving you a brief kiss on the cheek before getting up to rinse his dish.

Finishing your own plate, you walk over to the sink where Andrew stands.

"Leave your plate angel. I'll clean the kitchen, you can go get ready for bed. Know you're tired." he says as a yawn slips from his mouth.

Going up on your tiptoes, you leave a sloppy kiss on his cheek with a smile and head towards the bathroom to take a quick shower.

Nearly falling asleep while rinsing out your hair, you quickly wash your body. and finish your shower. Stepping out, you cover yourself in a towel before opening the door to grab some pajamas to wear. Pajamas that consist of one of Andrew's shirts and a pair of sleep shorts.

Climbing into bed you wait for Andrew to come up to bed.

Closing your eyes for what you think is just a second, you're woken up when he crawls into bed, obviously trying not to disturb you and failing.

"Sorry love, was just coming to sleep."

Rolling over so you’re facing him, you wait for him to get comfortable in the bed before crawling into his arms. If you could crawl into his skin that's what you would be doing right now.

"Missed you so much, 'm so glad you're finally home."

Releasing a small breath, he brings you closer to him, -if that was even physically possible- and plants another kiss on your forehead. "Me too, angel, me too. Next time I'm dragging you on tour with me."

With a small laugh, you let your body rest against his and sleep consumes you.

Feeling the exhaustion finally hit him, Andrew gets a good night's rest for the first time in what felt like years. His love in his arms. He's sure that not even oceans away performing in arenas he would dream of selling out as a child, could beat the feeling of having you fast asleep in his arms. 

all notes and reposts are appreciated!! loving you always xx

[silveryshards]

Club Night

NSFW! KiriBaku. Lion Hybrid!Kirishima x Human!Bakugo. All characters are 18+.

Tags/Warnings: KiriBaku, lion hybrid Kirishima x human Bakugo, self-kink shame, anxiety attack, purring, pheromones, sex work, hybrid anatomy (aka lion dick), Top!Kirishima, Bottom!Bakugo, biting, mating bite, scent kink, size kink, size difference, dry humping, cum eating, blowjob, eating ass, fingering, anal, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, dry orgasm, maybe squirting, creampie, passing out from sex

Word Count: 9,516

A/N: I was inspired to write this based on Dark's rendition of Lion Hybrid!Kiriahima over on Bluesky, if you like this fic go give her some love! Additionally, if you prefer x reader, I will eventually have both gender neutral reader and fem reader versions, just keep your eye out on my masterlist!

Having a hybrid kink wasn’t as taboo as it used to be. Now, there was a whole hybrid sex work industry that existed, above board! And highly reputable club just opened in the city near Katsuki Bakugo.

Bakugo’s heart raced as he walked through the doors into the thrumming bass of the club. The beat so strong he was able to ignore the flutter of his heart and instead focus on the vibrations in his body. He handed the bouncer his ID and paid the cover charge.

The dance music continued to pour through the club’s speakers as he ventured inside. His tongue sat heavy in his mouth, so dry he could almost taste it. Water, the bar, he needed water. 

Bright, vibrant lights strobed and flashed across the club. There were many human patrons like Bakugo mulling around the dance floor, around the show stage, and around the bar. And then…there were the hybrids.

They were all so beautiful. How could they all be so beautiful it hurt? Each in their own unique outfit. Some wore cropped tanks and leggings, others in stripper lingerie, and some in regular street clothes. Accessible to all levels of patron comfortability. He appreciated that.

Bakugo wasn't sure he’d be able to approach any of the more sexily adorned hosts. His cheeks flushed scarlet and he rushed to the bar to stutter out his request for water. Thankfully, the bartender was a gentle looking human. He smiled at Bakugo knowingly and got him a bottle of water.

Sagging into the bar seat felt like the only thing keeping him grounded. He was excited but he was also so anxious he could barely breathe. What was he doing here? Him, of all people, in a place like this?

Was he really that pathetic?

No. No. No. Fuck off anxiety. Indulging in this kink and seeking the company of a hybrid in a consensual and healthy environment was good. His heart raced harder and the pounding in his ears swelled to a tempo that drowned out the techno.

Squeezing the water bottle didn’t help. Squeezing his eyes shut didn’t help. He had to ground. He frantically tried to recall one of his on the go grounding rituals.

“Hey, are you okay? Do you need to sit somewhere quiet?” A deep, soft, but energetic voice asked, cutting through the thunder of Bakugo’s heartbeat.

Bakugo’s eyes snapped back open, and he turned, mortification icy in his veins. Next to him stood a crimson furred lion hybrid that had to be at least 7 feet tall. His scarlet hair fell in waves around his chiseled face, framing it like a mane would. The longer locks cascaded down his back all the way to his ass.

His feline ears stuck out on top of his head, the crimson fur contrasting against scarlet locks. He was all shades of red. Sharp, kind crimson eyes searched Bakugo’s as he took in the lion’s beautiful visage in a stunned, anxious silence. A scar ran across his right eye from eyebrow to cheekbone.

His big hands were covered in that same crimson fur and fingers were tipped with black claws. The fur disappeared underneath the sleeve of his black plaid button up, so Bakugo wasn’t certain how far it went. And behind him lazily swished a smooth crimson tail that ended in a thick, fluffy tuft of scarlet fur, the same color as his hair.

Those big hands…one reached for Bakugo as his vermillion eyes softly scanned his face.

“Hey, um. Sorry to bother you. Did you hear me? Are you okay? Do you need to sit somewhere quiet?” He gently asked again, leaning in and down to make sure Bakugo heard him.

The energetic techno music came back into focus around the ringing and pounding of Bakugo’s heart. Lights flashed across the lion from the dance floor.

He asked you a question! What was it? Quiet, he was offering you quiet. Bakugo managed to nod, hands clinging to his plastic water bottle.

“We can go to my room. Can I touch you?”

Bakugo’s stomach flipped at the idea. He was nearly three times his size. Would his fur be soft? But Bakugo nodded again, unable to do much else. The music was filtering through but the ringing in his ears was still loud and dizzying.

The kind lion reached out and took his forearm, pausing to gauge for comfortability, before coaxing Bakugo out of the bar seat and towards the back of the club. He felt numb as he followed, the only thing that felt real was the lion’s large, soft hand cradling his own.

Bakugo’s lion paused at the door and unlocked it with a key, walking in. The room was far more…customized than he expected. Weights and a punching bag sat in the corner, the walls were covered in traditional Japanese art, samurai concepts, and martial arts materials.

The bed took up almost all the rest of the room. It was a king, probably because the lion was so big, and sported a green camouflage bedspread. Everything looked so…normal. It eased some of the pressure in Bakugo’s chest.

After looking around, he was guided to sit on the bed. Big, strong hands lifted him and deposited him with ease. The bottle of water was taken from his clenching hand and it was pressed to his bottom lip.

“Can you take a sip for me?” The lion’s dulcet bass drove away the ringing and allowed Bakugo to recognize that the muffled music sounded calmer in the room.

Bakugo would do anything he asked.

Bakugo pulled a big draw from the bottle and swallowed and went to pull more when the lion pulled the bottle away.

“Hey, hey, I said sip, not to chug!” he laughed, it was such a cheerful sound.

Bakugo looked up at him as he smiled and heartily laughed. That broad, sunny expression lit up his entire face. His sharp pointed teeth glinted in the light as his crimson eyes crinkled in the corners.

“Sorry,” Bakugo murmured, voice quiet.

“S’okay. Being hydrated is manly! But choking on water while having a panic attack, isn’t. I’m Kirishima by the way, Eijiro Kirishima,” Kirishima said, sitting on the edge of the bed facing Bakugo.

“Manly?” Bakugo questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah! Manliness and chivalry, the two things I strive most for in life!” the huge lion hybrid exclaimed, perking up with a grin.

“That’s great,” Bakugo said, smiling softly, the lion’s sunshine attitude infectious.

“Are you feeling better now that you’re out of the lights and noise?” he asked gently, leaning forward to examine Bakugo again for signs of distress.

“Yeah, it actually wasn’t sensory overload that triggered it. I liked the vibe! It was…” Bakugo trailed off, not sure he wanted to bare his soul to this man. He came to indulge in a kink. While he’d had no intentions of treating his hybrid host as an object, he didn’t come for emotions. This was…sex.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m okay, now, though. I can go back out so you can find someone to…host,” Bakugo said, standing up and walking towards the door. Even though Kirishima was exactly Bakugo’s type, he was…a little big. And that intimidated him. 

“Hey, wait!” Kirishima reached out to gently encircle his arm with gentle claws. “You don’t have to go. I’m not kicking you out. I want to make sure you’re okay first.”

Bakugo thought back to earlier when he’d wondered if the lion’s fur was soft. It was. And warm. Not like petting his cat at home where their fur just felt like the temperature in the room. It was the temperature of Kirishima’s body. 

The thudding of Bakugo’s heart resumed, but this time, it wasn’t nerves or self depreciating anxiety. His body warmed as Kirishima’s hand on him made Bakugo acutely aware he was alone with the red lion hybrid, in his hosting room. 

“I promise, I am okay.” He tried to keep his voice steady as he spoke, but blush started to creep up his neck and dusted across his cheeks. “I just spiraled about something dumb for a second. I’m grounded now. Honest.”

The lion frowned at Bakugo and stood, towering over him. He swallowed and tried to ignore what Kirishima’s presence was doing to his body. He needed to go back out and do this properly, pick a hybrid, pay them, and then come back to one of these —

Eijiro’s big, soft hand cupped Bakugo’s chin and tilted his face up to look at him. Concern plastered his beautiful face. His crimson eyes scanned Bakugo’s face and studied him.

“Do you want to leave because I’m not attractive to you? I know I’m not as lithe and pretty as a cat or leopard, I know I don’t have a knot like the canine hybrids do. I’m just kind of really…big. No one really comes in looking for a lion hybrid. I’m not as popular or cool as the others. I guess I have my teeth and claws, and my tail. But my tail doesn’t really add much of anything.”

It swished behind him in slow, uncertain patterns. It was Bakugo’s turn to study his face. Was he serious?! He couldn’t be serious.

“W-what?! No! It’s not that at all! Why would you say those things about yourself?! You’re so fucking hot and I’m sitting here trying to hide how turned on I was just from you touching my arm!”

The lion’s eyebrows shot up curiously. Bakugo regretted the words he said instantly. He took a step back. Go back out, find a host who’s looking to fuck, and leave this gentle giant alone.

“I never assume what a guest comes to the club for since there are so many options. It’s a bar, a very safe dance club, a strip club, a host club, and a brothel. Lots of reasons and you never really know why someone’s here.”

Those crimson eyes started dragging across his figure, he could practically feel Kirishima’s gaze ghosting on his skin, those kind eyes were now predatory and hungry.

“But you didn’t ask why I had a private room or a bed in here. Which makes me think you came looking to indulge in the brothel. That.” His sharp teeth flashed again as he grinned. “And the fact that you’re apparently turned on just by a touch.”

Bakugo shifted backwards and let out a nervous breath. He didn’t want to feel hunted, he came here to find some fun, cute hybrid, have sex, and go home. A nervous swallow moved in his throat.

“I did. I did come for sex. I was going to eventually go to the hosts, see who was available that did that type of hosting, and see if anyone looked like they weren’t… completely turned off or disgusted by me. And hope that they were cute and I could have a fun night with them,” Bakugo admitted.

“I’m one of the hosts that does sex,” Kirishima said. He took another step forward, eliminating the distance Bakugo had created. He felt the heat radiating off the lion’s body.

“I dress in street clothes so I’m more approachable. A big lion in assless chaps and a collar harness with chains doesn’t exactly scream “welcome”. But a plaid button up and jeans? Safer.”

“O-okay,” Bakugo stuttered. “I still would like to go and do this properly.”

Again, Bakugo tried to leave the room. He’d go out to the host stand and do this right, and make sure there wasn’t a host that he was more comfortable with. Because the way Kirishima was looking at him made him feel like dinner.

Bakugo loved and hated it.

“‘Kay. Let’s go.”

And then Kirishima was dragging Bakugo behind him out to the host scheduler’s podium. Bakugo saw his chest rising and falling faster than a man of his stature and fitness should have been winded by the walk. Kirishima leaned down and said something to the human woman standing there.

As she lifted her pen to write something down Bakugo stepped forward and spoke. “I’m sorry, I would like to see who else is available as well?”

He didn’t look at the lion. He didn’t want to see the insecurity he’d tried to dispel earlier in his eyes again. There was nothing wrong with asking.

The woman looked at Bakugo and nodded. “There is obviously Eijiro, who is a lion and does the full host experience.” She then gestured to a couch behind her where three other male hybrids sat.

“Izuku, the bunny, Shinsou, the raven, and Shoto, the cat.”

Bakugo looked at each of them. The green bunny hybrid was cute, but too twink for his tastes. The purple haired raven had a scowl on his face and Bakugo been distressed enough for one night. And the white and red cat looked completely disinterested.

Then Bakugo’s gaze found its way back to the red lion who was still holding his hand. He had been right, there was ghosting insecurity in those crimson eyes, but also genuine interest and desire. Gently, Bakugo squeezed his hand.

“Kirishima, please.”

Bakugo stepped up to the host stand and took care of the business aspect of it. Without balking at the price, he paid for Kirishima’s time for the entire night until close. Ruby eyes widened at that, but he said nothing.

The scheduler went over the rules with Bakugo, explaining he only had to go as far as he wanted, and he was under no obligation to have sex. There were other rules that were just common human decency so they went in one ear and out the other.

“Have a good evening,” the scheduler said, waving as Kirishima dragged Bakugo back towards his room again.

He hurried to keep up with the lion. Once again he found himself in Kirishima’s “Den of Manliness”. He had caught the title plaque as they entered this time. Kirishima sat on the edge of the bed and patted where he’d sat him not 10 minutes earlier.

Bakugo took the spot and sat, nervously glancing at the red lion.

“I’m—“

“It’s okay, really. It’s not wrong of you to see all your potential options before choosing. I didn’t help you with your panic attack so you’d pay me. That’s not manly.” His nose scrunched up at the thought.

Bakugo relaxed at that. But then tensed up a moment later when he remembered he was in Kirishima’s private room with a host who knew he wanted sex. Maybe this was a mistake, maybe he’d thank him and just go home, and then the sweet lion could have the night off without losing pay.

“Hey,” he purred, gently wrapping his strong arms around Bakugo’s waist. “Focus on me, yeah? You’re spiraling again, sweet thing.”

The lion’s warmth made him melt, and he leaned into him.

“Sorry. I’ve just never done anything like this before. Earlier I was…I spiraled because I was thinking I was pathetic for being here. That I was someone who hosts wouldn’t even want to spend time with even if I paid them.”

The big lion listened carefully and gently pulled Bakugo in close. “Can I pull you into my lap?” He nodded. Kirishima did. A deep rumble started in his chest and vibrated Kats’ soul. His lion was purring for him.

“When I saw you walk in, I knew I had to come talk to you. Then I watched as you rushed to the bar and got water and started to have a panic attack. Before I could even think my body had moved to you on its own. And I just wanted to make you feel safe. But you’re also drop dead gorgeous. And if this was just a regular club, I would have hit on you anyway.” His head leaned down towards Bakugo’s face and hot breath washed over his skin, making him shiver. The purring caused Kiri’s voice to reverberate as he spoke.

“I’d love to fuck you.” That was a little more growled than purred. “But I just want to make you happy tonight. So, we will do whatever you want to do, sweet thing.”

Kirishima’s big head nuzzled against Kats’ face and neck, purring louder, hands rubbing up and down his sides. Bakugo relaxed. His ministrations successful, the lion grinned and puffed out his chest more.

Kats’ hands shook a little as he reached for Kiri’s shirt, slowly unbuttoning the plaid to reveal toned abs and firm pecs. Kirishima’s torso was all skin, no fur. Bakugo bit his bottom lip between his teeth and ran a trembling hand down the smooth, hard planes.

The lion purred louder, the noise dropping another octave and sounding closer to an aroused growl. His shirt was discarded, and Kats saw that the fur on his arms was like sleeves, going all the way to his shoulders. Kiri leaned back and rested on his forearms, giving Bakugo space to explore him.

Heat spread in Bakugo’s body again and his hips moved on their own against the lion, aching for friction. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he did it. Kats looked up to see crimson eyes burning with desire for him.

“Tell me what you want, little one,” Kirishima growled, cupping his face with a hot hand.

“You. Please,” Bakugo requested, his body feeling like it was buzzing. He ached. His cock stirred to life in his pants

“You’re so fucking hot, Eijiro.”

Bakugo’s lips and tongue danced across the lion’s pecs and he slowly kissed down hard abs, licking along the V gutters accentuating his hips. Kirishima tasted salty and musky, a musk that flooded his nostrils as Kiri growled his appreciation.

It was heady and hot, primal. He was primal. Bakugo looked back up at him and found crimson eyes watching intently. Kirishima was a certifiable predator but this time his hungry gaze didn’t make Kats feel like prey. It just made him feel wanted.

Deft despite shaking, his fingers reached for the lion’s jeans. Kats’ eyes darted up to silently ask permission. The whistle and rustle of Kiri’s tail swishing behind him sounded. His head dipped in a quick nod.

As Kats’ fingers swiftly undid the button on his jeans the musky scent intensified in time with a deeper rumble sinking into the lion’s chest. His curiosity got the better of him and he pressed his nose to Kiri’s abs again. One deep inhale later he was near dizzy.

“Careful, sweet thing, too much of my pheromones might make you sick.”

Despite having this hybrid kink for as long as he could remember having sexual desire and being obsessed with them his entire life, Bakugo had never heard a single word about pheromones.

“Pheromones?” he asked, gently pulling the zipper on his jeans down. Kiri’s red boxers finally came into view.

Kirishima let out another low, growly rumble. “Mhmm, they are chemical messengers my body releases to communicate with other hybrids.” A pause, he sat up and leaned down, his hot breath was right in Bakugo’s ear.

“Or potential mates.”

The warmth of his breath and the words he had spoken made Kats shiver. His cock ached again and a whimper escaped his lips.

“M-mate?” Bakugo barely stuttered it out.

“Mmmm. Mhmm.” He hummed it low in his chest. “Lion hybrids like me can have casual sex, and we often do. But we can also pair bond to a mate if they are suitable and they accept us, of course.”

“Wait, mating for life?” Bakugo asked, bewildered. The rituals of more exotic hybrids like lions had much less literature available. So he wasn’t sure.

“Mmm. Not quite. Like in a real lion pride, a male can be overpowered by a stronger, more fit male who will drive away the previous lion mate and take the partner for himself, if their mate is interested in the new male that is.”

“Huh, interesting…” It was Bakugo’s turn to pause. “Why are you releasing pheromones? I’m just…a guest of yours…a client…” Another deep breath. “I’m work, a job. Which is totally fine! I didn’t come here looking for anything more than sex. But…yeah..why?”

Kirishima leaned forward again and rubbed his face against Bakugo’s, the corner of his mouth dragged along his jaw and neck, ears twitching and tickling Kats’ cheeks. Kats let out a gentle laugh as Kiri nuzzled and marked him with his scent.

“Yes, I am at work. Yes, you did pay me for my company. But like I said earlier: the second I laid eyes on you I wanted to know you. My body’s responding to those desires. My innate attraction to you. My interest in you.”

For a few moments Bakugo was stunned again. That musky smell was…intoxicating. It had gotten stronger as Kiri had spoken. Was he accidentally spurring Kiri on? Accidentally tempting him to make this…more than just a hosting session?

Bakugo’s mouth opened and closed multiple times as he was at a loss for words. He remembered that one of the rules that he’d barely paid attention to was don’t ask the hosts out. But what if one of the hosts asked him?

“That seems like it’s more than your job title covers. Are you okay? I can leave if you’re having some sort of reaction to me that you shouldn’t,” Bakugo offered as he started to slide off the lion’s lap.

A low, vibrating growl came from deep within Eijiro’s chest and his big hands settled on Bakugo’s hips. Those hands firmly pulled him right back where he’d been just before. The growl sounded scary, but it didn’t make him feel threatened, it was just a warning.

“No. Stay, please.” The lion took a deep, shuddered breath and looked down at him. “I’m sorry I brought up the mates thing. We don’t have to discuss that. You wanted me, let’s just focus on that tonight, yeah?”

Bakugo swallowed nervously again and nodded in agreement. The sexy lion smiled back, his sharp teeth flashing. He leaned down again and nuzzled against Bakugo’s neck, warm full lips peppering kisses along the sensitive skin there.

He inhaled sharply as the kisses made him shiver. Bakugo pulled the lion’s face up, tangling his hands in Kirishima’s thick mane, and kissed him. They both moaned into the kiss and Bakugo’s hips thrust up, seeking friction against his cock.

Kirishima’s large hand pressed into Bakugo’s front. The blonde’s head threw back as the lion palmed his hard on through his pants. A low growl came from the bigger man.

“Like that baby?” His big palm worked in an up and down motion over his cock.

Bakugo whimpered quietly and nodded. “Y-yeah…”

Those full lips captured his again and one hand worked his cock over, starting to create a wet spot of precum on his jeans, while the other pulled off Bakugo’s shirt, breaking the kiss for a second. But only for a second. 

Hot lips crashed back into his and worked his mouth and cock in tandem, making him dizzy. Bakugo tried to keep up with Kirishima’s fervent movements and was quickly swept away. The lion was skilled.

Bakugo gasped and pulled away, “W-Wait.”

Kirishima froze and red eyes softened with concern. “What’s wrong? Do we need to stop?”

The blonde shook his head and took a deep breath, “What if… what if I’m not good? I’m not a virgin but I’ve never been with a hybrid. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

Kirishima’s eyes widened and he looked down at Bakugo. “Wait, you’re worried about my pleasure?”

Bakugo blinked, “Um, duh?”

Laughter so warm and joyous spilled from the lion’s mouth, shaking Bakugo who was still firmly in his lap. The lion wrapped strong arms around the smaller man and lay back on the bed, pulling him down on top of him.

Bakugo let him, though his hands roved over Kirishima’s lap and felt…nothing?

“No one’s ever cared about my pleasure before, just what I could do for them. That’s new for me.” He noticed Bakugo’s confusion and lifted him off his lap, shucking his pants and boxers. The crimson fur covered his entire legs up to his hips, almost like hip high thigh-highs.

Resting between them was a heavy sac, covered in the same smooth crimson as his tail. But above that was a sheath, just like he’d seen in canine hybrids. There was a peak of something pointed and pink in the center.

“I’ve been holding back getting too worked up. A lot of clients like to see it come out,” Kirishima explained, smiling at Bakugo. “I didn’t want to take that away from you if you wanted it. It’s not that I’m not turned on by you, trust me.”

Bakugo nodded, nervously biting his lip. “I wasn’t worried about, um, watching you get aroused.”

Kirishima smirked and cupped Bakugo’s chin in one big clawed hand. “Alright then, sweet thing.”

Before his eyes, a long, thick, and seemingly…barbed?! cock emerged from Kirishima’s sheath. The head wasn’t rounded like humans, it was more pointed and slim, with hardly any flare between head and shaft. Along the cock were small, flesh colored barbs that pointed towards the head.

Bakugo’s eyes widened and he scooted back. “Wait, I'd heard of cats having barbs but I didn’t know hybrids did too!”

Kirishima saw his alarm and sat up, gently reaching for him to grab his hand. “Whoa, whoa, calm down, sweet thing. It won’t hurt you. I promise. They’re not keratin like actual cats. It’s somewhere between cartilage and regular skin. They’re soft. Feel.”

The lion gently guided Bakugo’s hand towards the thick, seemingly barbed cock. He slowly ran his fingertips over the shaft, it was smooth and soft, just like a human dick. The “barbs” were flexible and moved under his fingers, they were also completely soft, no sharpness to them.

“So…do they just bend backwards when you thrust in or jack off? Does it hurt?” Bakugo asked, fascinated.

Kirishima reached down and wrapped a big hand around his cock. Jesus, even in his big hands it still looked huge. He stroked it a few times, causing a bead of precum to leak from the pointed head. As his hand stroked along, the little barbs splayed backwards before settling back flat after his hand passed over them.

“It doesn’t hurt?”

“Nope, they’re meant to do that. It’s supposed to stimulate the inner walls and cause pleasure.” Sharp teeth flashed again as the lion smirked.

Bakugo’s mouth opened in a big O as he listened, a dark flush of red returning to his cheeks. Kirishima’s big hands settled on his hips again and pulled Bakugo back into the lion’s lap. Clawed fingers undid his jeans quickly and rolled him onto his back, pulling boxers and jeans off in one fell swoop.

Crimson eyes met crimson eyes and both their chests rose and fell quickly as they took in each other’s naked forms. Kirishima’s hair fell around them like thick scarlet curtains. His lion leaned in and those full lips finally captured his own.

A slutty, unabated moan escaped Bakugo’s lips as he kissed Kiri back. He wrapped his hands around the big man’s neck and buried his fingers in the thick scarlet tresses. Pulling the lion closer, he wrapped his legs around his hips, and ground his cock into the smooth, bumpy planes of Kiri’s abs.

That pulled another growl from the lion’s chest. A hot tongue ran over Bakugo’s lips, seeking entrance. As another moan escaped them as the lion pressed down against his cock.

When his lips opened Kirishima pushed his thick, long tongue into his mouth. Bakugo lapped against it with his own and discovered small, micro versions of the barbs from his cock on his tongue. And the warm metal of a tongue piercing in the middle.

Their tongues swirled and danced together, the texture of Kirishima’s tongue and the ball of his piercing making Bakugo’s head spin. His cock throbbed against the lion’s abs as they moved against each other.

Heat was already dripping and pooling in Bakugo’s belly. The feel of Kirishima’s furred hands on his slim waist and the taste of his tongue in his mouth was overwhelming. He was already getting close. A flex of abs made him moan loud into the red head’s mouth.

“Kiri,” he gasped into the lion’s mouth. “G-gonna.”

The lion grinned and kissed from the corner of his mouth to his ear. A low, purred growl echoed in Bakugo’s ear. “Go ahead, sweet thing. Paint my abs with your cum.”

Bakugo’s hips bucked hard against his abs and he bit his bottom lip, trying hard not to cum. He didn’t want to be pathetic.

“Oh, no, no, no. Not my sweet thing holding back. Don’t be embarrassed, I’m so happy you’re feeling good and enjoying yourself. We have all night. Cum for me, sweet thing. Cum for me.”

With a cry of, “Kirishima!” Bakugo’s eyes rolled back in his head, his back arched into Kirishima’s abs, and his hips stuttered as his cock throbbed against the muscles. He came, and god did he cum hard.

Thick ropes of white cum painted both their abs as Bakugo’s cock pulsed between them. Kirishima growled with pleasure and nipped at Bakugo’s ear. “There you go, sweet thing, there you go. Bet that feels real good, doesn’t it?”

The purr that started rumbling in the lion’s chest made Bakugo gasp as it made his abs vibrate and continue to stimulate his still hard cock. He pulled his hips back, needing a second to breathe.

“God my mate is so pretty,” Kirishima moaned against Bakugo’s neck. His beautifully textured tongue ran up the column of Bakugo’s neck. Full lips wrapped around his pulse point and sharp teeth scraped against his skin.

Bakugo shivered again and whimpered. Kirishima reached between them and ran his fingers through the thick cum there and brought the white coated fingers to his mouth. He sucked them clean and moaned around them.

“And his cum tastes good, too,” the lion moaned again.

“Fuck,” Bakugo whimpered, “you can’t just say stuff like that…” His cock was already throbbing and hard again.

The lion’s big head lifted and he grinned down at him. “Of course I can, I want you to know how much I adore you. You aren’t like other guests. I actually want to fuck your brains out.”

He leaned back in and hot breath washed over Bakugo’s neck. “I’d mate you in a heartbeat if you wanted me to. My bite would go right here.” His hot tongue lapped wetly over his neck before settling at the base where it met his shoulder. Those sharp teeth nipped at the spot and the blonde moaned again.

Kirishima growl-purred again and his lips wrapped around the spot. He sucked the skin there between his teeth, nipping at it while making Bakugo writhe and moan like a whore beneath him. The delicious pressure on the sensitive skin shot pleasure right to his aching cock.

“W-what would it mean? If you bit me?” he blabbered out through a moan.

Another growl rumbled through the lion’s chest and his pupils dilated. The musk smell filled Bakugo’s nose again and his eyes fluttered, that delightful dizziness buzzing in his brain. The growl made Kirishima’s teeth vibrate against his skin.

“It would mean you would be mine. You’d be my mate, pair bonded with me for life. You’d only ever be with me for the rest of your life. I’d still need to be a host for work but if you wanted me to stop having sex with others I’d stop. We’d live together. We’d be mates, lovers, a real couple.”

Kiri’s jaw twitched and his teeth pressed against the skin again, pulling another moan from Bakugo. “But it’s not something to be taken lightly. I need enthusiastic consent. And I should probably take you on a date first —”

“Please. I’ve never wanted anyone like I’ve wanted you before. You are so incredibly beautiful. Sexy. Handsome. Kind. You are everything…I’d be so lucky to be yours,” Bakugo begged.

Kirishima growled again, those big clawed hands gripped his waist tighter, his jaw twitching with the urge to mark this perfect little mate. “Please, Eijiro, make me yours. If you want me.”

With another, low, possessive growl those big, sharp teeth sunk into the soft flesh of Bakugo’s neck. He cried out in a combination of pleasure and pain. His cock throbbing as the sensations went straight to it. Fingers tugged hard on scarlet locks and he arched into his new mate.

Then Eijiro started purring and the dizziness gave way to a feeling of euphoria, warmth, and bliss. Bakugo relaxed into the plush bed and let out a sigh. The musky pheromones the lion was giving off now smelled divine.

“Pretty little mate,” the lion purred, lapping at the bite mark. The texture of his tongue along the fresh wound made Bakugo’s eyes roll back and a fresh groan escaped his lips.

Full lips closed around it and tended it, lapping and sucking eagerly, darkening the skin on and around the bite mark. Beautifully so, if you asked Kirishima. The dark mark with the shape of his teeth marked his mate as his.

Those lips crashed back against Bakugo’s and there was a hint of copper still on them as they proceeded to dance together once more. They felt more in sync this time, each stroke of a tongue or twist was matched easily by the other.

Both men moaned into each other’s mouths, bodies moving against one another. Bakugo’s aching cock rubbed against the lion’s abs again, gliding easily due to the cum that still painted them. Kirishima’s rock hard, textured cock was pooling precum on Bakugo’s thigh.

Kirishima pulled away and slowly kissed and licked his way down Bakugo’s neck to his pecs. That long, thick tongue circled his perky nipple and the blonde’s back arched off the bed, pushing that plump pec further into the lion’s mouth. The ball of his tongue piercing flicked against the hardened nub.

“Oh fuck,” Bakugo groaned.

He was rewarded with further purring that vibrated that little piece of metal against his surprisingly sensitive nipple. Kirishima’s sharp teeth gently dragged along the delicate flesh and Bakugo hissed. Those sharp teeth bit down around his nipple and left perfect imprints of his teeth.

“Fuck!” Bakugo whined, pleasured tears springing in his eyes.

Those crimson eyes rolled back as the lion continued to ravish his chest, sucking and licking on each nipple in turn, those clawed hands squeezing and kneading the ample muscles. Bakugo started to feel like he was floating, soaring higher into the clouds with each bite Kirishima decorated his pecs with.

He felt the hot wetness of that textured tongue drag down his abs. A purred groan left the lion’s throat as his tongue lapped up all the white that was adorning his chiseled stomach. Teeth continued to sink into soft skin and hard muscles.

When Kirishima finally swallowed the last of Bakugo’s cum and sat back, his little mate was spotted with bite marks. Most prominent of which was the one at the base of his neck, deep purple in hue. The lion growled in pleased joy at the sight, his massive cock twitching.

Leaning back in, his long tongue swirled around Bakugo’s aching, throbbing cock. The blissfully textured tongue cleaned it of the rest of his mate’s salty, delicious cum. Kiri’s tongue was long enough it looped around the aching member and swirled around it, rewarding him with a strangled moan from his mate.

Bakugo couldn’t believe it. He looked down and saw his lion’s mouth open, those sharp teeth glinting in the light. His pupils were still blown wide and his feline ears twitched on the top of his head. That pierced tongue was still wrapped around his cock and working it over.

This was so much better than any fantasy he had ever had. Calloused fingers wove back into that scarlet mane and he gently urged his new mate down. “S-suck me off, please? Please? ”

With a growl, Kirishima had opened his mouth and sunk his lips down on the hot, throbbing length. Bakugo’s hips bucked up and pushed his cock to the back of the lion’s hot, tight throat. Kiri growled and started to devour Bakugo’s cock in a way that made him see stars.

He’d never had a blowjob this good. With each bob of his mate’s head, his full lips ran along the length, that agile tongue swirled around it, and the pressure as he sucked was making him dizzy. The pressure was already building in his belly again.

“K-Kirishima! I-I’m!” The only response he got was more intense sucking and faster head bobbing. He whined out, his orgasm barreling down on him.

Bakugo screamed out as he exploded on his lion’s tongue and down his throat. Kiri groaned and swallowed it all down, lapping Bakugo’s over sensitive cock clean. He quivered and whined softly.

“S-sensitive.”

Kirishima immediately pulled off and sat back, looking at the beautiful visage of his mate in bliss. He was covered in his bites and sweat glistened on his pale skin. A soft purred growl left his chest as he closed his big hand around his huge cock.

Using the precum that was leaning from it profusely as lube, Kiri stroked a clawed hand up and down his massive length, head tilted back with a groan. His hips bucked into his own hand, and he wanted so desperately to be buried balls deep in his little mate.

As he stroked himself, he looked back down at his blonde human. His voice reverberated with the purr that was still emanating from his chest. “Do you top or bottom, baby? I usually top but I know my…anatomy can be intimidating, regardless of my size.”

Bakugo’s vermillion eyes fluttered open and he took a deep breath. “I..usually I’m a bottom. I’ll be anything you want me to be.” 

His deep voice was so loving and earnest it made Kirishima groan and growl, tapered head dropping more precum onto the bedspread below.

“Are you comfortable taking my cock, little mate? It’s big and if you’ve never used toys with texture before it might be…overwhelming,” Kiri purred gently, still stroking his length.

The lion was composed externally, but inside his instincts were screaming that he needed to seal the deal on his little mate. That he needed to shove his lion cock balls deep in his little hole, bite him again, and then scent mark him with his pheromones all over so everyone would smell his claim.

His massive cock throbbed in his furred hand, the little fleshy barbs making him shake. They weren’t just for his mate’s pleasure after all. The precum matted his fur but allowed for a perfectly smooth glide up and down the length.

Bakugo’s crimson eyes were fixated on that big, furred, clawed hand as it stroked up and down his mate’s lion cock. It really was huge. Even in the lion’s big hand it looked unusually large. Kats doubted he could wrap his hand completely around it. He would need two. How would it fit?

“I-I…I want to take it,” resolve steely in Bakugo’s voice, “But it’s so big. I don’t think it will fit. I’ve never taken anything even close to that big before….” He couldn’t keep the quiver out of his voice as he said it.

Kirishima’s cock lunged with desire at that and the lion bit his lip to hold back a moan. Fuck. His little mate just had to say the perfect words that triggered his size kink, didn’t he?

“Fuck,” the lion growled, leaning back over his mate and caging him in with one hand next to his head. He captured his sweet lips with his own and pushed his thick tongue into his mouth.

Bakugo moaned out his appreciation and danced his tongue along Kiri’s, chasing the salty taste of his own cum that still lingered. Kirishima’s hips thrust into his own hand as they made out, the monster drooling precum onto Bakugo’s still recovering soft cock. He growled into his mate’s mouth and pushed his tongue deeper into the depths, the tip tickling the back of his throat.

Pulling back suddenly, a thick line of saliva connected their lips, Kirishima panted and observed his mate. “Gonna prep you with my tongue, ‘kay? Then I’ll use a toy. My claws don’t exactly lend well for it so I can’t finger you.”

“You’re...gonna eat my ass ?” Bakugo whispered the last part, feeling embarrassed. “I-I didn’t shower before I came. Just this morning, I wasn’t expecting to need to be that clean.”

“Shhh, it’s okay little mate, sweet thing. I don’t mind, so long as it’s still okay with you that I do it. Is it?” he asked it softly while nuzzling his cheek against his mate’s, resuming his calming purrs.

The tightness that started rising in Bakugo’s chest eased and he let out a shaky breath, inhaling the alluring musk that the lion was releasing. It made the noise in his brain dissipate and let him resume floating in the bliss of being with his mate like this. The blonde nodded and sighed softly.

“If it’s not gross to you, I’m okay with it,” he finally breathed out.

Kirishima wasted no time, a large grin spreading across his face. He shuffled down and placed himself between Bakugo’s legs. Large hands gently moved to the backs of his thighs and pressed them up to his chest, exposing that little pucker to him.

Kirishima licked his lips to clear the drool that was threatening to drip from them. He leaned down and kissed across the backs of Bakugo’s thighs, biting lightly and peppering the unmarked skin with pretty bite marks.

Hungrily he sucked a hickey into the seam of his thigh and ass cheek, earning himself a whine from his mate. He let out a slow, hot exhale over Bakugo’s rim and watched as it flexed and quivered in response with another whimper.

A hungry smirk overtook his grin and he dove in. Sloppy, open mouthed kisses assaulted Bakugo’s hole and crack. Each little sound that he let out spurred the lion on further. He flattened his textured tongue and lapped over the rim, feeling it quiver. His mate bucked as his piercing dragged over it.

The manly, sweaty-salty, musky taste filled Kirishima’s mouth. A low, pleased growl rumbled and vibrated his tongue as he circled the rim with the tip of the muscle. Above him, Bakugo was letting out whimpers and whines with each breath.

Each circle and flat lap of his tongue meant the ring relaxed a little more. Finally, Kirishima nudged the center of the hole with the tip, pressing experimentally. When he found no resistance, the textured muscle pushed in beyond that tight gate and into heavenly warmth.

Bakugo had been eaten out before, but never before by a hybrid. Kirishima’s textured tongue added extra stimulation that made him nearly dizzy. When he pushed in, it wasn’t smooth like a human’s. He felt that texture with each inch of it that sunk beyond his rim.

It was soft but felt like a million little micro tentacles danced against his hole as the lion’s tongue dove deeper. Bakugo groaned loudly and his eyes rolled back as his mate’s huge tongue pushed even deeper inside and flicked against the special spot hidden in his depths.

“Ah! E-Eijiro, there!” he cried, begging further.

Kirishima was more than happy to oblige, thrusting his tongue in and out of Bakugo’s pretty hole, flicking the tip against his prostate with each pass. His mate was falling apart on his tongue, whining and trying to squirm, but big hands kept him still.

Pulling his tongue out Kirishima lapped around and over the hole a few more times. Drool slid from his lips and down his chin, similarly running down Bakugo’s crack and pooling between supple cheeks. With a firm press the lion thrust his tongue back in kept fucking it into his mate.

“Nnghh, E-Eijiro!” Bakugo whined, pleasured tears pooling on his waterline.

Another growl, and with his tongue inside like it was, pressed right against his prostate, it made Bakugo cry out and see galaxies. The blonde’s hands fisted the sheets tightly, trying to hold on like his life depended on it.

Kirishima felt Bakugo’s balls draw up and away from his forehead and glanced up, seeing his lover’s cock was fully hard again and throbbing in time with the thrusts of his tongue. His mate could give him two more, certainly he could, right?

Opening his mouth wider, Kirishima fucked his tongue in harder and faster, flicking the textured tip right up against that swollen inner spot, purring to make his tongue a natural vibrator. Red eyes stared as Bakugo’s cock jolted and throbbed over and over again.

With a solid push, Kirishima pressed his tongue in deeper and rubbed it all over Bakugo’s prostate, lapping at it eagerly, attacking the spot with fervor. He was readily awarded with his mate screaming out and that pretty cock erupting for a third time with white, violently pulsing but only dribbling out a few thick globs that ran down the shaft.

Reaching under his bed and pulling out a toy that was tapered in size, starting as thick as his tongue before slowly increasing to the thickness of his cock, Kirishima sat up and withdrew his tongue. He was a messy eater and his mate’s asshole was completely drenched in his drool. No additional lube needed.

Taking the toy by its flared base, he gently pressed it to Bakugo’s relaxed rim. He fed his mate’s ass the toy slowly. Vigilantly he watched the human’s face for any signs of distress as it increased in thickness.

“That’s it sweet thing, just breathe for me, relax and breathe. Just think about how good my big cock is gonna feel balls deep inside you. Yeah? You want me inside?” Kirishima’s purred voice asked.

Bakugo could only whimper in response. He wanted it more than anything. He wanted to fuck a hybrid more than he wanted to breathe. He wanted to fuck his mate more than he wanted his next breath.

“Good, good job, sweet thing. Stay nice and relaxed for me. You’re doing such a good job. So perfect for me, my perfect little mate,” he purred, finally pushing the toy in fully.

He held it still and let his mate adjust to the thickness that was the same as his massive cock. Smashing his lips against a dazed Bakugo’s, he shared the flavor of himself on his tongue once again. Bakugo moaned at how filthy it all was and his ass squeezed around the toy with need.

They made out for a few minutes, lips and tongues moving in perfect harmony. When they pulled apart, lips were puffy and swollen from the intensity, but Bakugo was finally ready for the main event.

Kirishima slowly pulled the toy out of his mate and grabbed the lube from the bedside, applying it to his cock and stroking it with his hand to make sure it’s nice and warm for his little mate. “Ready?”

Bakugo’s crimson eyes met vermillion ones, and he nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, fuck me, please god fuck me.”

With a growl, Kirishima surged forward and buried himself to the base in one smooth, hard thrust, losing control for a split second. Bakugo screamed in pleasure and his eyes squeezed shut. His soft cock erupted with a clear fluid as he came a fourth time and squirted for his mate.

“Fuck,” it was completely growled, low, barely English. “That was so fucking hot!”

The lion was shaking with restraint, watching his little mate pant and whimper on his cock. He needed to hold still. He’d overstimulate Bakugo if he started fucking him now.

Still, the massive thing twitched and throbbed inside, aching and urging him to move. But his mate’s enjoyment was more important than his instincts right now. He wouldn’t be a slave to his primal needs.

“How are you doing?” he purred, cupping Bakugo’s face with his clean hand.

The blonde nuzzled into his big hand and a dreamy smile blossomed on his lips. “I’m amazing. Fuck me now?”

He said it so sweetly, Kirishima’s heart clenched, and he leaned down to capture that pretty face in a loving kiss. He started slowly, rolling his hips so his cock pulled almost all the way out and then slowly sank back in. Bakugo gasped against his lips.

“Oh my god it’s…it’s indescribable,” he whined, grabbing Kirishima’s forearms and digging his nails in.

It truly was, as the lion slowly pushed and pulled his massive cock in and out of him it felt like he was going to split in two. But on top of that, each of those little “barbs” gently stroked his walls as the lion pushed in. The girth stretched him and the texture tantalized and teased.

He was shaking and trembling with each thrust, gasping. Holding on to Kirishima like the was pounding him with all his might when he was just gently making love to him. But that cock those barbs made everything more intense by a hundredfold.

“Doing okay, sweet thing?” Kirishima growled out. The lion was shaking too, but with restraint. He needed to pound Bakugo with all his strength and prove his might as a mate, but he could see how intense just this was for him.

Bakugo couldn’t speak anymore, he only whimpered and nodded shakily. His crimson eyes wide and begging for more. He tugged at the lion’s arms, urging him to go faster, harder.

“Once I start, I won’t be able to stop, I need to fuck you and claim you, little mate. My instincts won’t let me stop when I start.” That deep voice was strained with the effort of holding himself back.

A nervous flash crossed Bakugo’s face and Kirishima let out a shaky breath, “Just tell me stop or tap my arm three times if it’s too much and I’ll make myself stop. Okay? I’d never hurt you.”

Bakugo relaxed at that and nodded his permission. Kirishima growled again and dove in to kiss him, slamming his hips into his ass hard. He drank his mate’s pleasured scream and encircled his big hands around that slutty little waist. Using his grip as leverage Kirishima pounded into Bakugo’s ass with more strength than the human could fathom.

Each thrust rewarded the lion with a scream that he swallowed greedily. His heavy balls smacked against Bakugo’s perfectly supple cheeks and the sound of skin on skin echoed throughout the room. The bed creaked in protest, it wasn’t used to his level of abuse. Kirishima never let go with clients like this, ever.

But Bakugo wasn’t just a client, not anymore. He was his everything. His reason to exist. His heart, his soul, his mate, his life. All pinned beneath him and beautifully taking his massive feline cock. Kirishima’s tail swished behind them eagerly. 

Kirishima was growling and purring, groaning when Bakugo’s hole clenched around him as he stroked that special spot inside with the head of his cock. His hands gripped that slim waist hard and pulled his pretty mate down onto his cock as he thrust up. The blonde’s eyes were closed but he still screamed for him.

The sensations were starting to get to the lion. His mate was so hot and tight inside, it felt like he was trying to milk the cum right from his massive cock. But he would last. His mate would cum first, he would always cum first. And Kirishima wanted him to feel better than he’d ever felt before.

Using his hand that still had lube on it he wrapped it around Bakugo’s cock, which was hard again. It wasn’t small by any means, it was actually well above average, but in the lion’s hand it did look small. It just reminded him how much bigger he was than his mate, which made him shiver and his cock twitch inside him.

Kirishima started stroking his mate in time with his thrusts. The blonde’s eyes flew open and his back arched, causing them both to moan loudly as his cock sank deeper into his velvety depths. They were both moaning and grunting in an animalistic way, and Kirishima thrust and pumped harder, chasing their releases like prey.

“One more little mate, give me one more. You can do it. Let me make you feel better than anyone else ever has in your life. I love you. Come on. Cum for me one more time.”

He angled his hips to hit Bakugo’s prostate with each thrust and his mate screamed. The pointed head and stimulation of the soft barbs dragging across that nerve cluster had Bakugo cumming in seconds. He screamed at the top of his lungs, “Eijiro!” as his balls drew up and his cock pulsed, but nothing came out, his mate was cumming dry for him.

“Fuck! Katsuki!” the lion roared, slamming in one last time and falling over the edge himself at the sight of his mate cumming dry, for him.

Sharp teeth sank back into Bakugo’s neck as Kirishima emptied his heavy balls deep inside his little mate’s hole. He growled and roared around his neck, seeing stars he was cumming so hard.

His legs shook and he collapsed on his side, completely spent, rolling onto his back to pull Bakugo onto his chest. Leaning in to kiss his mate’s cheek he saw that the pleasure had overwhelmed his little lover and he’d passed out.

Kirishima settled in and gently rubbed his mate’s back, purring lovingly to soothe him. He peppered his face with kisses and then laid back. He was mated, to the perfect little human mate.

Nose buried in messy blonde locks, the lion inhaled the scent that had drawn him across the club in the first place. Smoky, spicy cinnamon filled his nostrils. His mate’s natural pheromones smelled like smokey, spicy cinnamon and male musk.

The purring got stronger as Kirishima realized how happy he was. So, truly happy.

A few hours later when Katsuki woke up, there were still several hours before the club closed for the night. The two cuddled close and exchanged numbers before Kirishima spoke up:

“Want to go dancing?” the lion’s eyes were lit up and that sunshine grin was back on his face.

Bakugo had grabbed his tail and was playing with the tuft of fur on the end. Kirishima purred louder as his mate played with it. “Dancing?” the blonde asked.

“Yeah! There’s the dance floor out in the club! The DJ has really good taste and it’s a lot of fun! Cm’on, I’m sure you’ll love it!” Kirishima had already sat up, accidentally sending Bakugo tumbling off his lap in his excitement.

“Oops, sorry baby.”

Big, warm hands helped Bakugo right himself. They donned robes and quickly hit the showers before returning to pull on their clothes. Next thing Bakugo knew, the giant lion, now his mate, was dragging him out into the loud bass of the dance floor.

The lights arrived and pulsed with the music and Kirishima’s grin only got wider as he started dancing. Well, if you could call it dancing. He more just jumped to the rhythm and fist pounded in the air. But Gods did he look so sexy and happy doing it. His long scarlet hair bounced with every jump.

Bakugo couldn’t help but grin and dance too, actually moving his hips and having a little bit of style to his movements. He wasn’t anxious anymore. How could he be when this hybrid, this embodiment of sunshine, was his lover and mate?

They danced for the rest of the night, getting completely sweaty and gross but laughing all the while. Bakugo loved that smile, the one that lit up the hybrid’s face and made his ears perk up. On the last song Kirishima scooped him up, “Up we go baby!”

Bakugo settled on his mate’s shoulders and he could see the entire club. It was incredible, actually. But after taking an initial glance around he looked down and locked eyes with the only thing in this whole place that mattered: Eijiro.

“I’m so happy I came tonight,” Bakugo said.

Kirishima beamed back up at him: “Me too!”

“I love you, Red.”

The lion had already been beaming, but now it was like someone turned it to the intensity of the actual sun and added happy tears. “I love you, too!”

That night they went home to Katsuki’s place together, and it was the first night of the rest of their lives together as mates. They couldn’t wait to see what life had in store for them next.

My Masterlist

Find me on Bluesky!

Find me on AO3!

[peoplesgraves]

Babes remember that actress reader x yandere people that you did? If you feel inspired could you do one for a singer reader?

Only if you feel inspired tho! I dont want to be a bother

Imagine being a singer who can’t escape obsession

Back up singers who are as much a mob as they are a worshipful congregation. Most of them are good enough to go out on their own, maybe even make it bigger than you, but they wouldn’t dare leave their privileged place at your back, after all they’re nothing without you. At concerts they are ever present, making sure you shine like you deserve and covering up for any cracks or creaks in your voice, preferring to keep those for only themselves. In private they act as backup in all other way, acting more as bodyguards than singers when you go out. Walking you back to your room when you drink too much at an afterparty and staying to watch over you or terrifying any prying reporter away. Really they terrify anyone who makes you uncomfortable or to feel inadequate away. What they lack in size they make up for in venom and knowledge, after all you’re not the only one who spills their secrets to the backup singers. They tell you everything they know to help you get ahead, they watch over you and every word or sound they sing is meant as praise for you.

A song writer who takes your disjointed notes and half baked ideas and turns them into art, not only catchy but also somehow deeply personal. Who never takes credit for the ideas and won’t even let you put their name on the credits. Who believes all credit should go to the muse. Many covet their position in your life, they can simply ask to follow you around anytime in order to get song ideas or inspiration and you rarely if ever say no. They love to be by your side, capturing even the most private of emotions and feelings for themselves. Many will be able to guess what the songs are about but most of the time only them and you will really know. Whenever they write a love song for you they can’t help but imagine you’re singing it only to them, both of your deepest and truest feelings made electric by your voice. For now they’re content to simply watch and stalk but the longer they’re around the more they’re called to do more, like you’re their own personal siren.

Hollywoods most notorious music critic. Known for liking nothing and no one. Everyone says she’s cruel and cutting and cold and bitter but she’s always so sweet to you. Never writes a single bad review or article, in fact she gives such glowing praise and recommendations of you and your work and your concerts that any other critic or fan who thinks badly about you ends up reconsidering. Claiming to love you even if they don’t, fearful that they’re wrong and she’s right, that’s just how well respected she truly is. She’d thought it was adorable how nervous you’d been when you first saw her sitting front row at one of your shows, how you’d nearly combusted right on the spot when she’d first interviewed you. She sees herself in you, in your perfectionism and your need to succeed. Even if you both went about it very different ways, she couldn’t help but dream about coming home to you at the end of a long day and dealing with the stress of expectations together. She makes sure to write horrible reviews about both up and coming and established musical acts that could challenge or derail your rise, she’d make sure you got everything you wanted and eventually she’d get what she wanted too.

Fan clubs pop up often enough, starting small and eventually getting absorbed by one of the two big ones. The fan clubs are ruthless, launching coordinated smear campaigns against your perceived competition, staking out your hotels for months and creating essentially an organized racket to get the best concert tickets and backstage passes. If the backup singers are a church, the fan clubs are cults. Using their life savings and wracking up massive debt just to have a 10 second conversation or even an awkward side hug from you. The two clubs compete, thinking that if they meet some magical threshold of membership or devotion that you’ll bless them. You’ll see how much they love you, that no one could ever love you as much as them. In their eyes, it’s a holy war and there’s no doubt you’re the god they’re all worshipping.

Roadies who are big and burly, who double as both pack mules and security. Just as happy to set up the equipment just right as they are to fight off rabid fans or deflect things thrown at stage. They’re handsome enough that they could do just about anything, when it’s questioned why they do such a low paying and tiring job, they only smirk and say it’s for the love of the game. Many assume the love of the game is cracking skulls in the pit but really it’s all about you, it’s always about you. They get to go with you everywhere, not just when they ask or when you invite them but every single day. A lot of people get to see you perform but only they get to see you at haggling at the farmers market or complaining on the phone to your phone company. You don’t perform for them because as bad as it makes you feel, you see them more as fixtures than people at this point. They don’t mind your subconscious disregard for them, it just gives them even more fuel for the burning desire in their hearts. With so little time or chance for outside relationships it’s only a matter of time until you fall into their arms. After all they’re already there, they’ve already seen all of you and they love you truly.

(Sorry I couldn’t think of more people, if anyone wants to suggest any in the comments I can add to the post!)

[byoldervine]

Motivation For Writing

Getting Off Your Butt:

1. Aestheticise it. Let the light in through the curtains, turn on your fairy lights, lay a blanket over your lap, light some candles, whatever you need to do to feel like a writer. The right vibes can go a long way

2. Picture that one scene. There’s almost always a moment you’re super excited about that basically inspired the whole book. Picture it, play it out in your head in full cinematic fanfare, gush to yourself about how cool it is and how everyone will love it, picture a future fanbase going nuts for it. You might get excited enough to go back to writing

3. Set a word count goal. During NaNoWriMo this year I think I wrote more than I ever have in one go. The thing that kept me coming back was the desire to not fall behind. I ended up with ~45K words after some complications irl caused me to drop off in the final few days, and that’s all just because I was adding up the 1667 a day word count goal and realising where I needed to be at to keep up. I definitely can’t stay as rigid as I did with 1667 words every single day, but seeing that you’re only a few hundred words off of a goal is super motivating - just be sure to set realistic, easy to achieve parameters for just general use, like 1000-2000 words per week. I know 200 words per day is a popular one for people trying to establish a writing routine that can’t dedicate forever to the craft

Maintaining Motivation:

1. Writing sprints. Writing sprints are a godsend for me, I like to set myself up in the living room with Abbie Emmons’ writing sprint video on. The video lasts two hours and is broken up into two parts; 25 minutes to write and 5 minutes for breaks between writing, so four 30 minute sprints overall. Having the timer and countdown with peaceful music and an aesthetic background is both relaxing and encouraging, as well as giving me a specific time for how much longer I have to push through. It’s easier for me to say “Okay, only ten more minutes, then you can take a break” then it is to say “Just keep going, we’re not stopping until I say so” which is too arbitrary for my brain to accept

2. Give yourself a choice. If you’re struggling to keep your focus, come up with a finish line and tell yourself you don’t have to do any more work once you’ve reached that point. Finish the paragraph, go for another five or ten minutes, keep it up until your next scheduled break. Whatever sounds realistic and doable without being overwhelming. And once you’ve met this goal, ask yourself if you still want to stop. With any luck, you’ll have gotten back into the zone and will choose to keep going. Maybe you’ll want to take a quick break but you’ll come back later on. And maybe you’ll decide that now actually is a good stopping point. Just remember that, if you do still want to stop, don’t force yourself to keep going. You can’t strike deals with yourself if you know you won’t keep your word and all you’ll end up doing is burning yourself out, which will lead to even less writing getting done

3. Try a new angle. If you can’t be bothered to write anymore, is there anything else you can do for your book? Plotting, editing, worldbuilding, character sheets, one-shots all that sort of thing can still be productive for your book while still being different enough to give your brain a slight respite. It also means less work in that particular area later on

Afterwards:

1. Organise. Clean up your workspace and put everything away so it’s nice and neat for when you come back to it. Or if you don’t need to pack things out the way, set it up in an aesthetically pleasing way so it will tempt you back next time. Let it give you the writer vibe

2. Take care of yourself. Get a drink, have a snack, walk about, stretch your limbs, take a breath, cuddle your pet. Something that gets you away from straining your eyes looking at text for a bit. This is also a good time to reward yourself if positive reinforcement is something you use on yourself. If you always feel shitty after your writing sessions, you won’t want to go back to it

3. Positive reflection. Make sure to tell yourself you did good, even if you didn’t get as much done as you would’ve liked or it isn’t up to a standard of quality you’re aiming for. That can all be fixed later on, and you’re infinitely better off than you would’ve been if you didn’t do it. Be proud of yourself. Tell yourself you’re proud of your hard work and your dedication and your effort. Remind yourself that this is a fun thing you like to do. Marvel over how insane it is that you’ve gotten this far - not many people do - and that you’ve got all this tangible work to prove you’ve accomplished something so many people wish they could pull off. If this isn’t fun overall, there’s no point

[viforavi]

singer/songwriter!caitlyn and producer!vi… known for her quiet allure and silky voice, cait is a rising star whose songs have almost all been produced by vi. most of the lyrics cait writes may or may not be drawn from a crush she has on her producer. vi may or may not be producing cait’s songs because she’s not only undeniably talented, but also incredibly hot.

caitlyn loves to observe the focus vi has when creating her vision in the studio—sometimes she finds herself staring at her a little longer, taking note of how vi plays with her bottom lip and the way her big, beautiful blue-gray eyes dart across the computer screen—but the praise she gets when she records the perfect take is the cherry on top of it all.

“atta girl.”

“amazing work, you did so well today.”

“there we go, princess. knew you could do it.”

she feels her face flush slightly at every compliment and this time is no different. they near the end of a session as caitlyn records the last of her harmonies and the rest of the pre-chorus. as caitlyn’s verse comes to an end, vi smiles and clicks a button on her sound board to let cait hear her next words.

“you did so good in there, sweetheart. i could listen to you all day.”

a small giggle paired with an eye roll is her typical response to the producer’s kudos. cait’s ears and cheeks are tinged pink at the last part of vi’s comment.

“as if you aren’t paid to do exactly that,” caitlyn points out.

she removes her headphones and exits the soundproof room, walking towards the couch at the same time as vi to take a break before the producer works herself to the bone to get this song to sound like a masterpiece. caitlyn’s legs find themselves propped on vi’s lap crossed at her ankles with vi’s hand gently holding her in place, a comfortable position they find themselves in very often. vi expresses a thought she has about cait’s writing.

“y’know, i honestly still can’t believe you wrote these lyrics. i didn’t realize you were seeing someone.”

cait lets out a soft laugh, slightly embarrassed at the idea. the lyrics are… more sexual than what she usually writes, depicting fantasies and desires that she would typically consider private information.

“i’m not! just… felt really inspired i guess.”

“c’mon, don’t give me that. you rarely ever write about sex, let alone ask me to produce a song about it. she must be really fucking good, so who’s the lucky girl?”

she was right. caitlyn rarely wrote songs about sex and even when she did, she was usually too embarrassed to show them to vi. caitlyn’s had her fair share of hookups, but in caitlyn’s eyes none of them could compare to the mere thought of vi: her stupid fucking haircut that she, by some miracle, manages to pull off, her muscular build that convinces cait that she could be picked up by her like a feather, and that voice.

god, that fucking voice and her fucking praise.

even though she was the one to ask, vi’s stomach drops at the thought of cait seeing anyone. she keeps her eyes on the screen, avoiding caitlyn’s gaze and hoping she doesn’t look like a kicked puppy.

“seriously, it’s no one.”

“bullshit, cait. we’re friends! you can tell me.”

“it’s not! i’m really not seeing anyone.”

“please, cupcake.”

the underlying sweetness in her disbelieving tone makes cait want to melt into a puddle on the floor. part of her wants to admit that the object of all her fantasies has been a certain pink-haired musical genius with a jaw-dropping body and a pretty face, but her pride outmatches her desire, even though the use of the dessert-inspired nickname makes her knees weak.

“it’s just a crush. that’s all.”

cait swears she can see vi’s ears perk up. she’s met with a shit-eating grin, and now vi can’t help but poke and prod further to figure out who this mystery crush is. they giggle and playfully fight with one another as vi begs to know about this “crush” and cait wonders why the fuck she decided to say anything at all.

the regret leaves her body when she finds her face centimeters away from vi’s and her arms locked in front of her chest, held by her wrist thanks to vi’s unbelievable strength. cait makes out the curls of her eyelashes, the dark ink of her face tattoo, and most especially the plush of vi’s lips and the scar that decorates the top of them.

shit. why does she have to be so fucking gorgeous?

caitlyn is certain the red all over her face perfectly matches the burn she feels. she feels like she’s opening for fucking beyoncé or something with how nervous she is to be this close to someone she’s known for years.

“you’re really gonna keep this from me, princess?”

something about vi’s lowered voice and her eyes searching her face (particularly at her lips, she noticed) gave caitlyn a sense of confidence that she knows she’ll probably regret acting on. she wants vi, and she’s tired of vi not knowing. she swallows and looks into vi’s pleading eyes for a moment then sighs, nearly surprising herself with what she does next.

her feet find their way to the floor to push her up out of her seat and then she swiftly swings a leg over vi’s lap, seating herself where her legs once were. vi’s grip on caitlyn weakens and confusion is written all over her face with her wide eyes, raised brows, and slightly parted lips. cait gazes at her through hooded eyes, playing with the neckline of vi’s muscle tee. she leans over and ghosts her lips over vi’s ear to tease.

“you really wanna know?”

vi rests her hands on caitlyn’s hips and slowly licks her lips, still unsure of what exactly is going on… but she’s not complaining. her thumbs fiddle with the top of caitlyn’s jeans as caitlyn pulls herself back to face vi, one hand caressing the back of her neck and the other cupping her chin. vi groans at the sound of cait’s voice as she asks vi a very important question.

“do you want me to tell you, or would you rather i show you?”