#hookah head

[zanobiatobacco]

Looking for Hookah and shisha Head online in Dubai? Shop for the best hookah head at shisha store near you.

[magiicxkiingdcm]

caterpillar tag drop

── ★ || caterpillar || i am exactically three inches high || visage

[immortaljai]

Luddite ass nigga.

1.2 words (sigh), poly, age gap, fear & tension (?), Stack x reader x Mary, MLWLW

Luddite: Indicates a fear or strong dislike of technology

Got this idea from the end of the movie.

------

Imagine you, young, turnt, black, small knotless bohemi down to your ass (too much? mb) out clubbing with you friends..well you behind the bar serving your friends as they party. Okay fine you're at work but you get off in an hour so what's the big deal, these college loans not gonna pay themselves. Pouring a wasted man who has been hitting on you the entire time you feel..a weight shift in the atmosphere you look up and around the basic club seeing people grinding on each other, people recording for instagram with a wack ass hookah, you know the usual. Until your eyes land on two people. One tall jacked black man his hair nice and faded on the sides wearing some nice ass clothes, Jordans fresh out the box, toothpick in his mouth, next to him this fine fair skinned woman her hair curled nicely as she walked next to him the same confidence radiating off of her (gay ass). The music booming “HOW I LOOK” blasting through the club speakers “YOOO Y/N” you snapped out of it looking at your homegirl who look already wasted “Gimmie a free shot guuurl” internally rolling your eyes you looked at her and shook your head “hell nah you hears about these people going missing down south the hell you thinking” you said handing her a cool glass of water, and watching her frown but thank you as she walked away.

You sat there for another twenty minutes. Serving drinks. But your eyes always landed back on them the way she didn't leave his side not once yet, they weren't even drinking just..observing, it was weird, but you were gonna mind your business. Another five minutes went by with loud ass music playing no one at the bar, everyone too wrapped up in “getting some” or throwing ass. But you had about twenty more minutes left so you were on your phone, as you scrolled through your instagram you heard one..or two chairs scrap against the floor “what can i get you-” looking up you saw them both looking at you their eyes covered slightly in glasses. “Yea can I get..a whiskey” his voice thick and southern like, almost vintage and not of this time he spoke with confidence you never seen. You nodded quickly and turned to the lady who hadn't spoken a word yet but her eyes were already on you her glasses slightly tilted down as she smiled her red lips showing a few sharp teeth you didn't pay attention to at the time. “Lemme get a…bloody mary please” you felt the air get heavy for a second before turning around your braids moving with you as you quickly made the drinks. A bead of sweat slowly drips down your face as you struggle to get yourself together. Handing them the drinks you quickly and efficiently noped away from them to the other side of the bar drinking a big gulp of water.

Ten minutes passed you had about another ten left, at this point you were over everything and only wanted to go home, watching tiktok on your phone one airpod in you were called over by the lady with piercing eyes, you quickly stood up and walked over “bro what the fuck is wrong with me” you though to yourself as you stood infront of them “How..can i help you” you said avoiding eye contact like the plague “well i seen you there on your phone and I was just wonderin..if you could teach my dear love here how to use one”. Now momma ain't raise no fool..and this aint the 1930s but this lady…was asking you how to teach them how to use a..phone. You raised you eyebrow and slightly laughed “you-you forreal?” you asked in a choked laugh, making her eyebrows furrow the man finally spoke up “It would be my honor to learn from someone so young and..experienced” his sultry voice spoke up as he tilted his head slightly the dark and lights making him look even better “Young? You're a few years older than me”...the silence was loud as they both looked at you, her straight face slowly turning into a cunning smile. As the silence grew louder the small weight came back “I'll pay you” the man said snapping you out of it. Now you had a choice to tell these attractive fear gaging people no…or show them how to use the phone in about…8 minutes. He held up a stack of money pulling out a smooth 500, making you raise your eyebrows before taking it and slowly making your way from behind the counter “this is just for the money” you thought. You looked up from the floor seing the lady already moved a seat down making you sit in the middle. Sitting down you sighed lightly the seat warm and comfortable as you took the phone out. A sleek new version of the iphone matte black coming into your palms, your fingers brushing his as a shock ran through you. “By the way i'm Mary..and that's Stack” The lady said right into your ear making you jumo and hold the phone on your beating heart “DEAR GOD-” you yelped before sighing and nodding “Right” you said turning back to the phone collectively missing the smirk the two shared between each other.

“So right here is the power button, this right here is facial recognition, and then these are all your apps and hey siri take me to the app store” as soon as it took you too the app store you thanked siri and she said you're welcome effectively making stack raise his eyebrow “The phone talk?” that made you look up at him, “yes..it's basically..ai” showing him a few apps through the store you finally made it to the social media. “And this is instagram basically you follow people and like celebrities and shit” you said handing back the phone to them before noticing you were squished between them Mary looking over your shoulder leaning you you and stack pressed against you. “Whatchu mean follow?” Stack asked as Mary nodded “..bro…luddite ass nigga, basically people you know or are friends with you can follow and talk to them send stupid reels and shit” you said standing up emotionally drained as you yawned looking at your phone.

“Well im clocking out imma see you guys?” hopefully…hopefully not you thought before starting to walk away “Aye..whats ya instagram” she asked curiously before you could leave. “Uhm..” you said scratching the back of your neck before writing it down and bidding them a quick goodbye. As you made it into your car your eyes tired and feet aching your phone beeped with a nonfiction “S&MFANG has followed you”. ROlling your eyes you sighed pulling back out of the club the red sign that said “HEAVEN” written above as you drove off into the night. But little did you know that wasn't the end, not by a long shot. Mary and Stack watch you leave from the darkness of the night as you drive away they look at eachother “She pretty aint it?” stack said “Nervous little mouse” Mary said letting the man whose blood she just drank go, that just so happened to own the place. “Keep her safe eye on her yea?” Stack said as Mary patted the now vamp go. “Of course.”

-----

This was supposed to be a short oneshot.

[casssmalefantasy]

PLAYIN IT COOL

PAIGE BUECKERS X READER!

| synopsis: your best friend drags you out to a dallas club for a much needed girls’ night, but the last thing you expect is to spend it making eyes with paige bueckers across the room.

| warnings: smut, dom!paige, heavy sexual tension, explicit language, club setting, alcohol use, oral sex (f receiving + giving), strap 👀, confident!paige, flirty banter, minor teasing/dirty talk, reader is kinda cocky but lowkey nervous too

| word count: 4.6k

the thing about dallas is… it’s hot. even at night. even when you’re tipsy and wearing next to nothing.

“goddamn,” your best friend whistles when you step out of your apartment, hands dramatically framing your body like she’s casting a spell. “you trying to get fucked tonight orrrr…?”

you roll your eyes, smoothing your palms down the sides of your denim skirt. it’s short, snug, and sitting just right on your hips. paired with the slinky little sparkly top barely holding onto your chest and your favorite black boots, you were definitely giving that. unintentionally of course.

“i’m trying to get a drink,” you say dryly. “and maybe a dance.”

“mm right,” she smirks, unlocking her car. “bet you won’t be saying that once you see who’s at the club tonight.”

you shoot her a look as you slide into the passenger seat. “why, who?”

she shrugs, the casual kind of shrug that means she knows exactly what she’s doing. “heard some of the dallas wings team might be there. it’s one of their spots, apparently.”

you blink. “okay? and?”

she laughs, shaking her head. “girl, they’re hot. they’re athletes. most of them are gay. sounds like your exact type.”

you snort. “they’re also famous. you think they’re fucking regular ass people from dallas?”

“uhhh yes?” she counters immediately. “athletes be horny too, bitch. they don’t care who you are as long as you’re hot.” she looks you up and down again. “which you very much are.”

you just laugh, resting your head against the seat as she drives. your phone buzzes in your purse, but you ignore it. tonight’s about letting go. or at least pretending to.

—

the club is packed by the time you get there.

some 90s hip hop track is blasting through the speakers, bass so deep you feel it in your chest. the lights are dim, neon purple and pink casting shadows across the dance floor. the air is thick— perfume, cologne, weed, alcohol, hookah and people are already pressed up against each other, laughing, drinking, grinding.

“this is so our vibe,” your friend says, grabbing your hand as you both maneuver toward the bar.

you order a tequila soda—strong, but manageable, while she goes for something vodka-based that smells like it could knock you out in one sip.

“i’m getting fucked up and getting some dick tonight,” she says confidently, clinking her glass against yours.

“have fun with that,” you grin, taking your first sip.

and then you see them.

a group of tall-ass women in the corner, posted up like they own the place. they move like athletes, hold themselves like it too. and when you scan the group, eyes skating over braids and biceps and bottles—

you see her.

she’s leaning back against the booth, one arm slung casually over the backrest, a lazy smirk on her face like she knows exactly how good she looks. she’s wearing a fitted white tee, jewelry glinting on her wrist and neck, blonde hair in that messy perfect state that looks both effortless and deliberate. and she’s looking at you.

hard.

you weren’t expecting the eye contact. weren’t expecting it to feel like a fucking pull.

you drop your gaze immediately, acting cool as you turn back to the bar just in time to grab your drink.

but your best friend caught it. obviously.

“bitch,” she says, eyes wide. “you two were eye- fucking.”

“no we weren’t,” you scoff, sipping your drink.

she cocks her head. “okay, so why is she walking over here right now?”

“shit.”

you barely have time to fix your expression before she’s in front of you. paige fucking bueckers. in the flesh. up close. prettier than her highlights, smoother than you were ready for.

“hey,” she says, voice low, smooth.

you glance up, matching her energy. “hey.”

she looks you up and down—not subtly. “you got a name?”

you bite back your smile. “you first.”

that gets a laugh out of her. “i’m paige.”

“oh yeah?” you say innocently. “you play ball or something?”

her smile deepens. “something like that.”

you tell her your name, and she repeats it, like she’s trying it on for size. it sounds real good coming from her mouth.

“you from dallas?” she asks, sipping whatever drink she’s holding.

you shrug. “born and raised. why?”

“just curious.” she’s close now, arm brushing yours. “you got that local vibe.”

you raise an eyebrow. “what does that mean?”

“means you’re fine as hell and chill bout it.”

you laugh. “so that’s your type?”

“tonight it is.”

the conversation keeps going like that—easy, teasing, warm. paige is bold, but never cocky, smooth without trying too hard. you keep your tone light, but your heart’s beating fast. the tension’s building. every time she leans in closer, you feel it.

“so what do you do?” she asks, gaze slow as it trails down your legs and back up, eyes catching on the hem of your skirt. “besides drive people crazy looking like that.”

you grin. “i work in sports media. real job and everything. been with bleacher’s report since i graduated.”

her eyebrows go up, impressed. “okay, big-time.”

“you’re one to talk.”

she smirks. “you’ve been watching me?”

“you were hard to miss.”

there’s a pause. her gaze dips to your lips.

“you wanna get out of here?” she asks, voice lower now. rougher.

you tilt your head. “who said i was interested?”

her expression falters, just for a second. and then she recovers, leans in even closer. “your body language. it’s saying otherwise.”

you stare at her for a beat. then smile.

“give me five minutes.”

you find your best friend, ask her if she’s good. she grins, waving you off toward paige like a damn matchmaker.

and that’s how you end up in the passenger seat of paige bueckers’ car, her hand sliding onto your thigh the second she pulls out of the lot.

—

her apartment is nice. new, clearly—modern countertops, tall ceilings, basketballs and duffle bags tossed in the corner. not a ton of decoration yet, but it smells like her. expensive cologne, subtle vanilla.

she hands you a bottle of water before you even sit down.

“hydration is sexy,” she says with a wink.

you laugh, sipping it. “you always this polite after trying to pick someone up?”

she shrugs. “just making sure your hydrated.”

you sit on her couch. the tension between you is practically humming.

and she’s just… staring.

like she wants to devour you.

you raise an eyebrow. “you just gonna keep looking at me like that?”

she leans forward, voice dropping. “or what?”

you smirk. “or you could do something about it.”

she doesn’t need to be told twice.

she’s on you in seconds—lips on yours, hands already gripping your waist, pulling you into her lap like she can’t wait a second longer. the kiss is hot—all tongue and teeth and desperate breaths. she tastes like vodka and mint, and her fingers are already pushing up your skirt.

“fuck,” she mutters, tugging your top off, eyes drinking you in. “you’re so fucking sexy.”

you laugh against her mouth, tugging at her shirt. “you too cocky to be this good a kisser.”

“you’ve seen nothing yet.”

she stands, pulling you with her, dragging you toward the bedroom without breaking the kiss.

by the time you hit the mattress, your skirt is gone. her hands are everywhere—pinning your hips down, trailing over your thighs, slipping under your underwear.

and then she’s eating you like she’s starving. no hesitation, no warm-up—just her mouth, hot and slick and fucking relentless.

“shit, paige—”

she moans into you, sucking your clit, holding your legs open like you might disappear if she doesn’t keep you in place. it’s intense. overwhelming. fast.

“feel good?” she mutters, voice rough.

“yes don’t stop—”

you cum embarrassingly quick, thighs shaking, but she doesn’t stop. not until you’re crying out again, and then she finally lets up, crawling over you with a smug smile.

“you gonna be good for me now?” she asks, breathless.

you flip her over in response, grinning. “your turn.”

you go down on her, making her writhe and moan and beg—and you love every second of it. love the way her voice breaks when she says your name. love the way she tugs your hair when she gets close

you don’t stop until she cums hard, hips shaking, voice raw from moaning. her hand stays in your hair, fingers tightening every time you kiss your way up her stomach, over her chest, up to her throat.

you’re still catching your breath when she flips you.

“you think you have one more in you?” she asks.

quick. effortless. like she’s been waiting.

“yeah.” you say quickly.

“you look so good like this,” she murmurs, eyes dragging down your body like she wants to ruin you. “legs spread, already so fucking wet for me.”

you reach for her, but she’s already off the bed, grabbing the purple strap from the drawer like she knew exactly when she’d use it. you swallow hard, breath catching as she steps into it—slow, teasing, powerful.

“you ready for me, baby?” she asks, tone low and smug. “or do i need to make you beg a little first?”

you don’t give her the satisfaction—just hold her gaze, daring her. “i’ve been ready.”

she climbs back on top of you, hands firm on your hips as she lines the strap up and slides in slow, making sure you feel all of it. your mouth falls open. a gasp leaves your throat, needy and unfiltered.

paige smirks. “that’s what i thought.”

then she fucks you.

deep, relentless strokes that leave you shaking. every thrust hits just right, has you crying out her name, clinging to her back, your nails dragging over her skin. she leans in, lips brushing your ear.

“you take me so well,” she whispers. “so fucking good for me. look at you—already close, huh?”

you nod, whimpering, thighs trembling around her. she picks up the pace, one hand slipping between your legs to rub tight, fast circles over your clit while she keeps pounding into you like she owns you.

“cum for me,” she growls, breath hot against your neck. “right now.”

and you do—loud, messy, body arching up into her like she’s the only thing that matters.

but she doesn’t stop.

she fucks you through it, chasing her own high from the way you fall apart underneath her.

“fuck. i’m gonna cum again.” she says.

and she does moaning your name.

when she finally slows down, she kisses you soft. breathless. a sharp contrast to everything she just did to you.

“still breathing?” she teases, stroking your cheek.

“barely.” you say jokingly.

she just grins at you, tracing your hip with her fingers.

“so… think you’ll be at that club next weekend?”

you roll your eyes. “you already trying to run it back?”

she shrugs, kissing your shoulder. “you’re local, right?”

you smirk, snuggling into her chest. “we’ll see.”

“well give me your number, just incase you need to know when i’ll be there.” she says smirking.

“yeah whatever.” you say laughing.

[ambersinterlude]

One Gift No Wrapping

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: pure smut, mdni

Jey Uso x Reader

OMNISCIENT |

“Daaaamn.”

You glanced up in the mirror, smirking. Jey was leaned up against the doorframe, eyes low and hungry, watching you slide on lip gloss like it was porn.

“You ain’t even left yet and you already acting like trouble.”

You popped your lips, turning to face him, birthday dress hugging every curve. It was a bodycon—tight at the waist, cleavage sitting just right.

“It’s brunch,” you shrugged playfully. “Mimosas and pancakes. I’m 24, baby. Let me live a little.”

Jey’s eyes dragged over your body, jaw tight. “Nah, you tryna kill somebody in that dress.”

You laughed, stepping into your heels. “It’s my day. I deserve to feel sexy.”

“You already sexy, mama.” He walked over, arms sliding around your waist. “I just don’t like the idea of you out there without me. Dudes gon be looking.”

You leaned into his chest, giving him those soft eyes. “I’ll be good. Just a few hours. I promised them.”

Jey kissed your neck slow, voice low in your ear. “You better remember who you belong to while you out there.”

“Always.”

“You wear that lip gloss back home, I’m smearing it all over my dick,” he muttered, swatting your ass. “Hurry back.”

── 3.5 Hours Later

The front door creaked open, as you giggle to yourself.

“Baabyyyy,” you sang out, half-laughing, holding the wall for balance. “I’m homeeee!”

You stumbled in, holding onto the wall for balance. Purse half open, hair a little frizzy from laughing too hard.

Jey was stretched across the couch, one arm thrown over the back. His jaw ticked when he heard the laugh.

You giggled, slipping your heels off like a toddler. “Don’t look at me like that…” Heels you had no business wearing after two mimosas, let alone six.

“Took you long enough.” He muttered.

You giggled, slurring “Babe.. we had brunch and mimosas, mimosas turned into shots and then somebody ordered hookah and—“

“You drunk?” His voice was flat, rough. You nodded with zero shame. “Maybe a lil”

“You think that’s funny?”

Your smile faded at the sound of his tone—low, dangerous.

“Jey…”

“You said a couple hours. You left me sitting here on your birthday. Waiting. Watching that clock.”

He stepped closer, slow and deliberate. “You told me brunch. I let you go. I said, ‘Okay, have fun, baby, it’s your day.’” He tilted his head. “Brunch don’t last four hours.”

You blinked up at him, swaying slightly. “I lost track of time…”

“You was too busy acting cute for your friends, huh?” He leaned in, nose brushing hers. “Forgot you had a man waitin at home.”

You didn’t even get the chance to respond. His hand was around your throat, gently but firmly backing you into the wall, his eyes dark as night.

She bit her lip, breath hitching.

“I ain’t get no birthday kiss. No birthday pussy. Just a ‘bye baby’ and the sound of your heels.”

You whimpered. “I’m sorry, Daddy…”

“No you not. But you will be.”

Without warning, he grabbed you by the neck, pulled you in, and kissed you hard—sloppy, deep, tongue fucking your mouth like he missed the taste. You moaned, grabbing at his arms, drunk and needy and dripping heat.

His hand slipped up under the dress. No panties. “You really left the house like this?”

You gasped, wet and throbbing already.

Jey turned you around, shoved you over the arm of the couch. Dress bunched around your waist, ass out, legs trembling.

“You wanna play grown, huh? Go out, act like you single, get tipsy—nah. Daddy gon remind you.”

He spit on your pussy. No warning. No teasing. Just spit and the wet slide of his fingers parting you before he slammed into you with one brutal thrust.

“Oh my god!” You cried, nails clawing at the couch.

“You feel that?” he growled, pounding into you with sharp, punishing strokes. “That’s mine. All of it.”

“Yes Daddy—yesyesyes—”

He grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling you back. “You let anybody look at this ass today?”

“N-no, Daddy—just my friends—I swear!”

“You let anybody see this wet ass pussy?”

“No! Just you, only you—”

“Open your fucking mouth.”

You obeyed without question, tongue out, looking back at him with teary, glassy eyes.

He spit in your mouth, slow, watching it drop. “Swallow it.”

She did—messy, shameless.

“You gon squirt for me birthday girl?” He slapped your ass hard, grinding deep.

“I—I can’t—”

He grabbed your throat from behind.

“Yes you can.” His hand slid between your legs, rubbing your clit just right while he stayed buried deep. “Come on. Let it out. Soak this dick like I know you can.”

Your body locked up, and then—

Splash.

You squirted hard, soaking his thighs, the cushions, everything. Your moan was wrecked, face falling into the couch cushions.

“Fuckkk,” he groaned. “There it is, that’s my good fuckin girl,” he muttered gritting his teeth. “Messy ass birthday girl.”

But he didn’t stop.

“Look at you,” he muttered, “This what you wanted?”

You gasped, hands gripping the couch cushions, the stretch stealing your breath.

“Wanted me to fuck you like a whore on your birthday, huh?” He wrapped his hand around your throat again, pulling your head back. “Say it.”

“I wanted it, Daddy,” you choked out. “Wanted you to fuck me dumb.”

He pounded you from behind, rough, brutal, sweat flying, the sound of skin smacking echoing through the room. His balls slapped your clit every time he bottomed out, and it was making you lose it.

You collapsed into the couch cushions, whimpering.

But he wasn’t done.

He flipped you over, spread you wide, and started again—this time staring right into your face as he drove into you.

“You ain’t finished til I say so.”

He kept fucking—deep, slow strokes now, his face hovering over yours.

“Open that pretty mouth.”

You obeyed, eyes dazed.

He spit in it again. “Swallow it.”

You did.

“That’s my fucking girl,” he grunted, pounding faster, your moans getting choked out as he wrapped a hand tight around your throat again.

Your eyes rolled back. “I’m gonna cum again—please, Daddy, please—”

“Cum all over me, baby. Cream this dick.”

You screamed his name, legs shaking, pussy clenching so tight around him that he had to bite down on his lip to keep from blowing immediately.

“Shit!” he cursed, hips stuttering. “I’m finna nut in this pussy—gonna fill you up, give you every fuckin’ drop—”

“Please, Daddy, cum in me,” you begged.

He slammed in one last time, holding deep, releasing with a loud groan.

Their bodies were tangled, breath heavy, sweat mixing as you blinked up at him—completely used, stretched, and full.

He kissed your forehead, even while your legs still twitched.

“Happy fuckin birthday, baby.”

─────────────────────────

Published : 05/26/25

I hope you guys enjoyedddd!!!🥰

[deltaruminations]

tenna finishes rolling his cigarette and then pats down his jacket and turns to queen like "Sweetheart, do you have a lighter on you?" and she's like Lol Why Would I Have That and he's like already shrinking slightly and bracing himself "For... s... smoking?" and she's like Oh Honey Baby Sweetie Boo Boo No One Does That Anymore Don't You Know How Bad That Is For You. I Only: Juul and he's like "J-jewel? What--" as she takes a fat rip from a vape on a charger plugged into the side of her head and blows a cloud of wildberry flavored cotton directly into his face. and he just sits there in defeated silence with static on his face as she's like Computer Hookah. Lmao

[iarchmybaculaa]

18+!

Tags/warnings⚠️: Alcohol consumption, club setting, misunderstandings, angst if you squint, long haired Jungkook, Reader is a brat, angry Jungkook, unprotected sex (please do not practice that irl), rough sex, spitting!, breeding kink

Word count: 3.6k

🎧 : Sticky Rice-Lil Gnar, Reminder-The Weeknd, Party Monster- The Weeknd

For my loves: Tasara & @hobicakess 🩷

Beta’d by Shaq🫶🏾

A/N: I randomly found an edit in my gallery that inspired this whole thing. HEAVILY unedited bc I’m extremely sleep deprived rn so pls be nice!

Fic takes place about 4 years before "All mine" ! Enjoy?

Being married to Jungkook has single-handedly disproved every doubtful remark you've heard from everyone trying to convince you that it would be ill-advised to get married so young.

Contrary to what you've been told, the spark between has not died. In fact, you think that you find something new to love about Jungkook every day.

His love has never once not been intentional and gentle. You've never experienced being with someone who is so in tune with your body, with your mind, with your soul. Jungkook sees loving you as a competition; his only rival being his past selves.

There is no adventure that Jungkook would want to experience without you. There’s no bridge he wants to cross without holding your hand; no dance he wants to do without you beside him….or rather bent over in front of him as you are now.

The low lights of club Euphoria had switched to a dangerously deep shade of red, casting a sinful glow on your already ridiculously seductive face. Your eyes were low, whether it was from the few drinks you'd had earlier or the thick cloud of hookah smoke that floated around the club, Jungkook didn't know.

What he did know however, was that he had the most beautiful woman in the world throwing her ass back against him, in a dress so tiny that your cheeks were becoming more and more exposed as he thrust his hips forward to meet yours.

You move in sync with the music, your bodies in perfect harmony as the people around you become a blur. In that moment, it's just you and Jungkook. You and your husband.

You feel the cool air travel further up your legs as you dance. You reach behind you to pull your dress down, more out of habit than anything. You hear Jungkook groan as your hand ‘accidentally’ presses against his crotch, and you can't suppress the small giggle that escapes you.

It's a low sound, so realistically, Jungkook can't hear it that well over the near deafening music…But he sees the way your body shakes a bit. You shake the same way when you laugh at your own jokes or Jungkook's clumsiness; and he knows you well enough that he can practically hear the sound in his head.

Fuck he's in love with you.

He's so lucky to have you. He can't wait to live the rest of his life with you, to have a family with you, to take you home and fu-

His train of thought is cut off by the harsh vibration of his phone in the pocket of his slacks. He grabs your waist to stop your movements, and you stand upright. You raise a questioning brow at him.

“It's Namjoon hyung” he mouths, pointing to the phone at his ear.

You roll your eyes and shake your head. Namjoon had been on a work trip to London for the past few ( painfully long) weeks, and he still refuses to acknowledge the time difference. You two have grown to accept it, even if it means that he calls Jungkook at the most ridiculous (sometimes inconvenient) times.

The crackle of the receiver lets Jungkook know that Namjoon is talking, but he can’t make out a word he’s saying. Jungkook quickly realizes that he couldn't possibly have this conversation inside the club, so he gestures towards the door.

“I'm going to take this outside,” he says with his lips pressed up to your ear. “Do you want to come with me? Or will you be okay ‘till I get back?”

“I'm a big girl!” You pout up at him, pushing his glasses further up his nose with your pointer finger . “I’ll be fine, go take your call! Tell Joon I said hi.”

He nods and plants a quick kiss on the crook of your neck. He strokes the side of your face with his thumb and promises to be right back, before he turns on his heels. You watch as his head disappears into the crowd, leaving you standing alone and regrettably bored.

With Jungkook gone, you have nothing else to do since you two had come alone. You think standing around in a club like someone with a lost shadow would be incredibly lame. So you do what any unoccupied, married person in a club would do, you make your way to the bar to get a drink…or two.

By the time Jungkook gets back you're just a little tipsy.

You're not a stranger to alcohol per se, but unlike Jungkook who's been around enough liquor to know what blends would be good for you (strong enough to make you feel good, but not enough to make you lose your inhibitions); you don't know much (not enough if you ask him). You think of calling him, but your phone is in your purse… perched on jungkook’s shoulder.

So you do the most logical thing you can think of, and you order the prettiest sounding drink on the menu. Who can blame you?

You’re just a girl.

~

Two cups of Serendipity later, you're back in Jungkook's arms feeling absolutely giddy and incorrigibly horny.

The lights in the club are a dark blue now, and the music is even louder. Jungkook looks exactly the way he did when he left.

Sexy as all fuck.

Long hair tucked behind his hair on one side? Check.

Denim shirt? Check.

Tattoos? Double check.

Damn.

MINE! MINE! MINE!

You're not sure where he put his glasses, but you make a mental note to ask him before you leave. You do not need a repeat of the Geum putdwaeji Sikdang* incident. You know from experience that Jungkook and contacts don’t mix; and it would take over three weeks for them to get replaced…Not a fun time.

And right now? All you want to have is fun.

Jungkook’s mouth is moving, but your brain is moving too fast (or too slow) to read his lips and you can’t hear him. But his hands pull you toward him by the waist and you lean into his touch.

Your back is turned to his front as you move slowly against him the second you hear “she’s saying baby saenggakaji ma” float over the speakers.

Jungkook moves in sync with you as he always does, but his hands remain at your waist, almost rigid. His touch is shy and..Timid? His hands don’t trail up towards your breast, or towards your belly button. You find it odd, and downright ridiculous.

You grab his hands to take them upwards, and you’re instantly confused. There’s ink on both his hands? You pause.

When did Jungkook get a sleeve on both hands?

His lips brush faintly against your ear, and you’re suddenly hyper aware of the absence of the cool metal of the rings that should be in his lip.

You don’t hear a thing except the erratic beating of your heart.

Then the inconceivable happens.

Jungkook stands in front of you, arms folded across his chest and eyes glaring at you through his glasses. The lights above you start flashing, and they bounce off his shiny, silver lip rings.

But if Jungkook is in front of you…who the fuck is behind you?!

You think you might faint.

As confused as you might have been about the situation, you knew two things for sure:

1. You needed to get as far away from not- Jungkook as possible

2. You're screwed.

Not-Jungkook seems to realize your mistake, and moves his hands from your waist so can step away from him; you rip yourself away from him as if his touch burns.

You open your mouth to say something to Real- Jungkook, but your brain goes blank.

You're too dunk for this.

Jungkook gives you a quick once- over to make sure that you're unharmed, before taking a gentle hold of your wrist. He tucks you behind him as he gives Non- Jungkook a piece of his mind.

The ringing in your ears has become so loud can't even hear the music anymore, much less their argument. Your brain feels like it's been doused in water, and you feel an unwarranted giggle making it's way up your throat. You swallow it down.

Now's not the time.

From what you can see, Real Jungkook and Not-Jungkook are having a very spirited conversation. Real Jungkook seems to be holding his composure quite well, until Not-Jungkook says something that causes his jaw to tick and his hands to form fists at his sides.

But instead of throwing a punch, Jungkook takes a deep breath and walks away, pulling you behind him.

Not- Jungkook waves at you.

You don't wave back.

Jungkook is silent as he leads you out of the club and towards your car. You say nothing as he opens the passenger door and watches as you sit inside.

“Do your feet hurt?” He asks

You shake your head at him. Still, he couches on his knees and unbuckles your heels, giving your calves a brief massage before he straps you into your seat. He closes your door and grabs a bottle of water from the back seat. He hands it to you as he settles behind the steering wheel.

“Drink.” He commands. His voice isn't necessarily angry but you can hear something bubbling beneath the surface. The restraint he's exercising is audible in his voice, and for some strange reason…it excites you.

He pulls out of the parking lot slowly, careful not to accelerate too fast so your water doesn't spill.

The fog around your brain is almost completely lifted by the time you've finished the bottle. Jungkook glances at you for a moment, and releases a satisfied hum when he sees the crumpled plastic in your lap.

He doesn't smile though.

His jaw is tense and his body is rigid in his seat. He isn't touching you and you don't like it.

“Jungkook,” you say, reaching over to touch his thigh

“Are you sure?”

You look at him confused. “Am I sure about what?’

“Are you sure I'm Jungkook?”

There it is.

You have the audacity to scoff at him.

“ Of course I'm sure it's you Jungkook. Don't be ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?! You were literally grinding your ass all over some random dude you thought was me but I'm being ridiculous?!”

Your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. You know that Jungkook has all right to be upset, fuck you're upset at yourself for making such a terrible mistake. Jungkook has all right to reprimand you, but your mouth just won't cooperate with your brain. All the brat inside you heard, was Jungkook rubbing in something that you were already very embarrassed and flustered about and it just didn't seem fair.

If you thought about it…This was all Jungkook's fault really!

“ Well it's not my fault that you look like every other Korean dude with a perm!!”

The car comes to an abrupt stop as Jungkook slams the breaks.

“Excuse me?”

You roll your eyes and cross your arms at your chest. Jungkook’s eyes flick down to where your tits are bulging, but only for a moment of course.

“Stuttering is your thing Jungkook. You heard me.”

“You’ve actually lost your fucking mind.” Jungkook marvels at you, completely in disbelief at your misplaced attitude.

“I should have bent you over my lap and spanked your ass raw in that fucking club for everyone to see… But I let you off so easy, because I knew you made the mistake because you were drunk; and this is the thanks I get?”

“No.” You quip, “I’m not thanking you in any way.”

The tension between you is as thick as it was during the first 3 months of you two flirting with each other. You were both in college, desperately holding on to the title of “study partners ” even though you kept finding yourselves in compromising positions.

You were both playing a timeless game of cat and mouse. A metaphorical tug of war. Jungkook would push and you would pull; now it appeared that you were having a rematch.

He sucks the pierced side of his lip into his mouth.

You want him so bad.

Jungkook’s eye twitches.

“You’re asking for it, you know that?” He asks, face so close to yours that you can practically taste him on your tongue.

“Give it to me then.” You challenge.

Jungkook leans forwards, and you close your eyes in anticipation of a kiss.

But Jungkook doesn’t kiss you. Instead, he sinks his teeth deep into your neck, though not hard enough to break skin.

You moan at the sting, reveling in the way his soft tongue soothes his claim.

He pulls away and runs his thumb over your lip, eyes darkening.

“Did he kiss you?” He grits out.

You frantically shake your head no.

It's then that you realize just how bad this could have truly been for you. Jungkook was right. You were getting off easy.

Jungkook pries your mouth open.

“Tongue out.” he says.

You loll your tongue out and look up at him expectantly for what you know is coming. Jungkook looks directly into your eyes as he spits into your waiting mouth. You swallow without being told to; it's almost like a reflex.

Jungkook is pleased.

“Who does that taste like, baby?”

“Tastes like you,” you reply.

Jungkook hums.

He grabs your hand and brings it over to his lap. Your breath hitches when you feel the telltale rigidness of a boner in his jeans. Your heart skips a beat as you realize how painfully hard he is.

You need him.

“What does that feel like, baby? Hm? Does that feel like me? Or are you not sure?”

You whine as he rolls his hips up into your palm. “It feels like you Jungkook, I want it.”

Jungkook’s face contorts into one of mock contemplation.

You hate when he gets like this, when he pretends to consider giving you what you want when you both know it's not going to happen.

"You want to know what I think?" he muses rhetorically.

"I think I've let you get away with a little too much lately. I've always told you that your mouth is going to get you in trouble, but I've never made good on that promise, have I?" He chuckles darkly. "Maybe it's time I change that, hm?”

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest and you feel a shiver of anticipation zoom down your spine.

“Unzip me.”

Your body is in autopilot as you undo his zipper and lean forward to take him inside your mouth.

He pulls you backwards by your braids, and brings his hand around your throat.

“You're gonna take me in your mouth and you're going to keep it there until we get home.” He growls out at you

“No licking, no sucking, no moving. By the time we get home I'll be tattooed so deep in your fucking brain that you'll never mistake someone else for me ever again.” he bites out.

But in true Jungkook fashion he brushes his lips gently against yours, then he shoves his dick down your throat .

The ride home is filled with the obscene noises of you trying not to choke on Jungkook's cock.

Your eyes are watering and your nose burns from how hard you've been breathing through it. Your chest feels hollow and your jaw aches, but you're too fucked out to care.

Jungkook's cargo pants are thoroughly soaked from the way your saliva has dripped all over him. You're sure it's beginning to get uncomfortable for him to sit like this: cock hard and throbbing and in your warm, wet mouth. Yet, he sits perfectly still; unmoving.

His breaths come out in slow, controlled gasps, and it becomes exceedingly clear to you that It's taking as much effort from Jungkook not to snap his hips upwards and fuck your throat; as it is for you to not give him an actual blowjob.

The realization is absolutely riveting.

When Jungkook pulls into the driveway of your flat, he lifts your chin up , and his dick slides out of your mouth with a wet plop.

You both try to catch your breath, chests heaving and hearts thumping. Jungkook tucks himself back into his pants, and takes a deep breath before he gets out of the car.

Like the gentleman he is, he walks over to the passenger side of the car and holds your door open for you. But when you don't make any efforts to get up, he bends down and looks expectantly at you.

You pout at him and point to your feet.

You're barefoot. Of course.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, grabs you by the waist, and tosses you over his shoulder. You squirm a bit, and Jungkook promptly delivers a warning slap to your ass which settles you completely.

He opens the front door and kicks it shut behind him, waiting until he hears the security alarm activate before he moves towards your bedroom.

He tosses you on the bed and flicks the light on. Your chin is slicked with spit, you tits are spilling out of your dress, and the curly hair in your braids are sticky to the thin sheen of sweat on your face.

You look a mess.

A hot, beautiful mess that Jungkook made. His pride swells, along with another part of him.

Jungkook turns his back to you as he takes his shirt off.

“You know I love you right?,” he asks, putting his glasses on the nightstand. He tosses his shirt onto the ground and walks over to the bed. “You know that there's nothing in the world that could ever make me stop loving you?” He asks, now face to face with you as he strokes your chin.

‘I do,” you reply, your voice comes out more of a whine than you actually want it to.

“That's great baby, because this is going to feel like I fucking hate you.”

***

You both cry out when Jungkook finally slips inside you.

You've come to accept that no matter how many times you've taken him, how many times you will take him you'll never not be taken aback by the way his cock stretches you.

The lights are on, and so you can see Jungkook in all his glory. You can see way his biceps bulge and the way his abs tense. You the way his face contorts as your pussy practically suffocates him.

“ You like what you see baby?” He taunts, “had to make sure that you can actually see who's fucking you hm? Wouldn’t want you to make another mistake now would we?”

He spits the word out as if it pains him to say, and translates that pain into a vicious snap of his hips that has you lurching forward, clawing at his chest.

His thrusts are all the same. Carefully calculated and deliciously hard. His tips brush against your gspot with every fluid movement of his hips, and all you can do is whine and beg.

At one point Jungkook slows down to a torturous pace. Pulling out of you the moment he's just shy of your gspot. You can't handle being teased, you won't. You decide to up the ante.

“Jungkook,” you moan out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he grinds into you “please make me cum daddy”

Jungkook freezes and his hips stutter.

You've never called him that before.

For a moment you regret letting it slip out of your mouth. That's until you see the crazed look that comes into Jungkook's brown eyes.

He wraps his hand around your throat and starts pistoning his hips into you.

“Daddy huh?” He grits out as your juices start leaking down your thighs and unto the skin of his stomach “ is that what you want baby? Wanna make me a dad? Hm? Maybe that way people will keep their fucking hands off you huh?”

“Jungkook please!” You scream, tears pooling in your eyes from how desperately you want the sweet release you've been denied.

“You gonna let me put a baby in you princess? Gonna let me stake my claim on you for everyone to see?” He demands as he stills to a stop inside you.

“Fuck, Jungkook yes! Please I'll do anything you want just please!” You cry

Jungkook finally drives his cock upwards, it's curved head hitting your gspot at the perfect angle. Your orgasm rips through your body so violently that you sink your fingernails so deep into Jungkook's bicep that you break skin.

You cum in spurts, coating him in a thick sheen of your arousal. Jungkook cums with you, no longer being able to resist the pleasure that your body was bringing him.

Jungkook's cum spills out of him in a long, steady stream. You feel the warmth as it seeps inside you, and you clench around him reflexively, determined to keep all of it inside.

“You wanna have my babies so fucking bad.” Jungkook mumbles into your hair, voice hoarse and laced with fatigue.

And do, you mean to say, , though it never actually comes out of your mouth.

Instead, you hug jungkook to your chest, legs wrapped securely around his waist as sleep consumes you.

Fin.

[meowrimo]

☽◯☾ - SMOKIN' ACES

꒰ synopsis ꒱ : The ASL brothers know how to throw a good party and tonight was no different.

꒰ content ꒱ : MDNI. portgas d. ace x f!reader ; dubcon as they are high, descriptive weed use, shotgunning, surprise voyeur alert (someone might be listening...), unprotected sex, dry humping, use of pet names (baby, good girl), impact play if you squint — WC : 3.4k

⭑ 𓂃 ꒰ Full Moon ! ꒱ — Kinktober Masterlist

The basement was a cozy little spot that only the members of the house and certain special guests could be privy to. During the notorious parties, it was a safe haven, a place of refuge- Somewhere to get some air, get away from the noise, and regroup with the people who meant most to you.

It was full of little touches from over the years. A series of disjointed chairs and faded couches all in a circle with a busted coffee table in the center that either had a bong or hookah on it, ready for community use. 

Always playing chill music, full of wondrous paintings and vibrant murals that various friends have done — it was the clubhouse of all clubhouses and all run by the ASL boys themselves; Ace, Sabo, and Luffy.

The first member, the self-proclaimed founding member, is currently sitting next to you with a triumphant smile on his face, grinding up some weed. After the exhausting day at the beach, everyone has decided to go out to the bar instead of staying in for the night.

A part of you had wanted to go with them and maybe do a couple of shots and make out with someone for a little while. A night where your head was as fizzy as a champagne bottle and maybe you could get your mind off of a certain someone.

But then Ace had given you the look.

That look with those big brown puppy eyes of his that never failed to have you cater to his every whim — annoyingly so. 

So you find yourself here, in the still smoke-filled air basement that was full of character from a group of the rowdy young adults you’ve come to know so well next to the man you’ve been pining over since the day you met him.

“I can't believe you dressed up like the dude from Magic Mike.” You flick his cowboy hat up, knocking it back and giving it a slightly disheveled look.

“Not just any dude, I'm dressed as Dallas.” Ace shakes his head, focused on rolling another joint in his favorite strawberry-printed rolling paper for the two of you to share. The one you had earlier burned out with the group and Ace had promised you another if you agreed to stay behind with him

“You just wanted an excuse to be shirtless.” Not that you were really complaining.

“First of all, I'm not shirtless.” Ace patted the unbuttoned vest that loosely hung over his taut frame. “Second of all, I did it for the hat that you so rudely hurt.”

“My apologies then.” The sarcasm drips from your tone and Ace casts you a sidelong glance, sticking his tongue out at you before using it to lick the joint.

“At least I was creative.” He says, his dark eyes trailing along your body. Even though he’s clearly appraising the outfit and not you, a chill runs down your spine. “Weren’t you a cat last year too?”

“Shut up, you know that Luffy ruined the angel wings I was going to wear.” Ace hands you the joint in surrender, motioning for you to go first as he fishes the lighter out from between the couch cushions. 

You put it in your mouth, lips wrapping around the filter as the sparks fly. It illuminates the small space in front of you and casts a soft glow over Ace's freckled face. 

Suddenly, he felt a little too close. You take in the way he carefully lights it for you, his tongue peeking out as he focuses on the task at hand. As soon as the flame catches the paper, his eyes flicker up to yours.

You inhale, begrudgingly taking in some of the smoke of the wrap before it cherries at the end, an influx of weed hitting your lungs harsher than you intended.

“Easy now.” Ace tries to stifle his laugh as you cough a little, your head still reeling from the close proximity. He takes the joint from your fingers, gently brushing his against yours before taking a hit himself.

Ever the show-off, the smoke barely leaves his lips before he begins to inhale it through his nose. He smirks at you as he does it, effortlessly inhaling the thick flume of smoke.

“You’re so lame for gatekeeping that trick by the way.” You huff at the man across from you, taking the joint back from him to continue your sesh. 

“I gotta have something to impress you, right?” Ace leans back on the couch a little more, eyes growing hazy and red as he watches you. His tattooed arm dangles off the back of the couch while you try not to take what he says to heart. But he looks back at you, head tilting a little so he peeks at you from under his hat. “But I suppose I can teach you something else.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?” Taking another hit, you let the smoke rush through your lungs and let it saturate every bit while it screams in protest the longer you hold onto it. Ace shifts ahead, leaning in so he’s closer to you and spreading his legs so his thigh brushes against yours. 

“You really wanna know?” His warm breath caresses your ear as he speaks, his nose barely nudging the lobe. The sudden seductive shift in his voice throws you off your axis and plummets you into his gravitational pull.

“Yes.” The approval slips out of your mouth with the rest of the smoke. 

Ace moves his face so it's in front of yours, his eyes scanning your features as he takes a hit. You’re not even sure when he grabbed the joint but you don’t question it. not when his fingers cup your jaw so sweetly.

“What’re you—“ The question dies out as he shakes his head. Everything feels tingly but the way he’s cusping your face makes it ten times worse, setting your skin on fire as your face heats up.

Carefully, he tilts your head toward him before he leans in. Your breath hitches as his lips brush against yours, his fingers pulling on your jaw so your mouth opens a little more.

With a direct softness you’ve never gotten from him, he blows the smoke out from his mouth and into yours. The weed coats your taste buds before his tongue slips into your mouth to steal it all away. His eagerness rivals the hit in a silent contest of who can take your breath away more.

Ace's hand doesn’t move from your face and he uses it to his advantage to kiss you further. If you thought your mind was fuzzy before, it was absolute static now as your twirls swirl together.

He grins against your lips, humming approvingly as you begin to kiss him back. But it was over far too soon and it takes everything in you not to chase his fleeting lips.

“So?” He smirks and pulls away from you, taking another hit as you try to catch your breath.

“What the hell was that?” Your thigh was still pressing against his but you couldn’t find it in you to move. Part of you longed to push further, to lean into him and melt into his searing touch. But your mind was still trying to play catch up from what just happened.

“Shotgunning.” He blows the smoke out straight into the air and your heart pangs with a strange jealousy. “Did you like it?”

“Yes.” You bite your lip. Maybe a little too much. You pause, tasting the words on your tongue before you utter them. “I wanna try it again.”

Ace sucks in his breath, the smoke plummeting to his lungs as he takes in your wish. Coughing slightly, he sits up straighter on the couch and tries to gather himself.

“Yeah?” The gravely rasp in his voice swirls with the underlying desire and draws you in further. 

There’s no going back now.

“Yeah,” You nod slowly. Neither of you bat an eye as you slide into his lap, accidentally rolling your hips against his lap as you do. Ace lets out a choked groan of your name, shifting underneath you. “Ready?”

Galaxies bloom in his eyes as they light up, eagerly tilting his head up in anticipation. The joint sits on your lips before you take the hit, watching him under you as he looks up at you from beneath his dark lashes. Desire pools in your abdomen and before you can think about what you want, your lips meet once again.

It’s a blur between tongues as the smoke fizzles out. You’re not even sure if you did it right, but then again, it wasn’t really your main objective.

The joint disappears from your fingers and you can feel Ace shift to ash it out on the side table. Unburdened, his arms wrap around you and his hands splay across your back, pulling you closer to him and deepening the kiss.

Your lungs beg for reprieve but the taste of Ace’s sweet tongue is too addicting to let up. But he shows mercy and pulls away, suffering from the same affliction. 

Everything felt fuzzy around the edges, your brain fully saturated in something syrupy sweet that had your hips involuntarily moving again as soon as your foreheads pressed together.

The faint aroma of sea salt still wove itself in the tangled curls of Ace’s hair, filling your senses despite all the smoke that currently clung to the thick air. 

“Ace.” You gasp softly, the faint outline of his hardening cock coming to life right between your thighs. 

“Yeah? You feel that?” To further his point, he pushes his hips up against your overheating core. “Feel what you do to me?”

“Yes.” With every slow grind of your hips, you can feel him growing harder beneath you. The friction was rolling over your body like a wave hitting the shore, but it was fleeting. “I want more.”

“Can you handle more?” The smirk that dangles off his face has you wanting to roll your eyes but you relent. The craving for him was too much, threatening to boil over and fully consume you.

“I can.” You nod, lips hovering over his. “I want to try.”

Ace closes the distance, unable to curb his own carnal urges that run rampant in his body. The way your lips mesh together, tasting like weed and strawberry-flavored chapstick becomes something he knows he’ll get addicted to. 

Your fingers dance along his chest, teasing under the vest before landing on the buckle of his belt. All the while he reaches up your skirt, tugging on your panties and dragging them down your legs.

The rest is a blur of motion, but the messy way his lips move with yours is vivid. It’s almost jarring how much you can taste him, how much his grunts of approval seep into your skin and run through your veins

You pull back at an absolute loss for breath, panting against his mouth as his tongue pokes out to trace your parted lips. The bottom half of your clothes are gone and his are haphazardly halfway down his thigh. 

Ace's hand grips the base of his cock as you hover over it, pumping it and squeezing his tip as it leaks with pearly drops of precum. 

“You're gonna be a good girl and take it all for me?” His knuckles brush along your soaked slit, running along it back and forth, absolutely mesmerized as he waits for your answer.

“Yes, I'll be good.” The words are nothing more than a breath of air, your lungs squeezing in protest. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” His tip prods your entrance, both of you throbbing as the last thread of self-control burns like a stick of dynamite. The slow, sparkling crawl of anticipation before everything explodes, lighting each other aflame in a whirlwind of desire. “You turn into such a little slut when you’re high, don’t you?”

“Ace.” You whine, watching the slow spread of his signature boyish grin take up his face. Warm palms rest on your hips, fingers gripping into your skin as he soaks up the absolute need in your voice. 

“What?” He chuckles lowly, his voice still raspy from the smoke. “All I'm saying is that — ohh shit…“

The rest of his sentence melts into a groan as you slowly lower yourself onto his cock.

“That’s it.” He groaned, his palms sliding to rest on your thighs to help guide you. It takes everything in him not to push you all the way down, letting you take your time as you adjust during your descent.

Everything stands still as he finally bottoms out, filling you up and stretching you out in ways no one has ever done before. The pressure is insurmountable yet it brings you a wave of pleasure that has your body singing for more.

“Holy fuck, you feel like heaven.” Ace practically moans at the way your silky walls clamp around him. His fingers move once again to grip your hips in a bruising hold, stilling himself from spilling into you immediately.

“Of course, you talk a lot during sex.” You let out a scoffed chuckle, clutching onto his shoulders as you spread your legs a little more and letting him sink in even deeper. 

“Aw, complaining already?” He gives you a lazy grin, slowly grinding his hips up against you. The steady throb of his cock melts your brain more than the weed did, the residual high becoming overshadowed by the man under you. “Or let me guess, you just can’t take a compliment?”

“Shut up.” You huff, rocking your hips before raising yourself back up. His cock partially slides out of you and glistens with your essence, coating it completely. Ace's eyes zero in on it, drinking in the sight before you ease back down.

“Fuck.” Ace's head hangs off the back of the couch as he gazes at you through half-lidded eyes. The hat he was wearing falls behind him, completely forgotten. His palms glide along your sides, sliding them up and down before cupping your ass and trying to speed up your movements. “Please, you gotta move faster.”

“Do I?” The gravity of the situation sets in, albeit a little delayed — blame it on the weed. But he was completely at your mercy. The pleading look in his eyes speaks volumes despite the cocky words he so rapidly fires off. You lean down, lips brushing against his ear. “Let me guess, can’t handle it?”

Ace's attention snaps back to you, almost fully alert now. The fog from earlier clears from his head as the words he uttered earlier echo from your pretty little mouth. A new challenge fires off inside of him and he was never one to back down from a fight, no matter the position. With a wicked grin, he thrusts his hips heavenward.

“Oh, I can handle it alright.” He murmurs, rubbing the plushness of your ass before giving it a subtle smack. Your body jolts and your chests crash together, almost every part of you is touching him.

The ever-steady rhythm of your heart spins on its axis, thrown off by the rapid beating that sets in syncopation and you can’t find it in you to care. Not when everything you’ve ever wanted is finally clicking into place.

Your bodies move in a euphoric sync, the ebb and flow of the melody you two orchestrate fills the room in a symphony of bliss. You were drowning into Ace’s very essence and in return, he did the same.

“Shit, baby.” Ace groans at the almost lazy pace. Each delicious drag of his cock had your eyes rolling back to your head. Anytime he twitched inside of you was like another jolt of pleasure — knowing that he was getting just as much enjoyment out of this as you was driving you faster to your end. “I've wanted this for so long.”

“What?” You’re completely breathless now. The confession takes away the last shred of oxygen and rips it out of your lungs. The languid roll of your hips doesn't stop though; your mind, heart, and body all chasing what you want in different ways. “Really?”

“God, yeah.” Ace's fingers slid under your shirt as he grabbed your bra-covered chest. “We need to take this off.”

Impressively, his pace doesn’t falter as he rocks up into you while his hand glides to your back and unhooks your bra. It only takes a few seconds for your chest to become completely bare and his head to find its home in the valley of your breasts.

His tongue trails everywhere. Your body burns under it, relief only pooling in the spot between your thighs and wherever he decides to lick away the flames. It cools you off, the words he said earlier filtering back into your mind as the smoke clears.

“I've wanted this too.” You gasp, bouncing a little quicker to prove how much you’ve needed this — him. Ace groans, teeth grazing the swell of your breast before sucking your nipple into his mouth to muffle the noise. “You feel so good, Ace.”

The candy-sweet praise has his head popping back up from where his tongue was swirling around your pert bud and looks at you, eyes trailing over your blissed-out face and the hearts that swirled in your eyes. 

“Come here.” Ace roughly grabs you by your ass, leaning further back into the couch as you tumble on him. He couldn’t hold back anymore, fucking up into you without abandon.

“A-Ace!” You gasp, trying to squirm away a little but the hold he had you in was too tight.

“Take it for me, baby. You said you would.” He moans. Both of your impending highs are heightened by the weed you inhaled only minutes ago. Pleasure rips through your body, sending it into tremors as your thighs shake. “Let go f’me.”

Your high washes over you immediately, body locking up as Ace continues to pound into you and chase his own release.

And it’s beautiful when he reaches it.

He comes with a choked moan of your name, his body tensing up and his fingers digging into your skin. His cock pulses before he completely empties himself into your greedy cunt with sporadic, shallow thrusts.

Both of you slump against each other, melting into the couch as your mind floats down from the clouds and into his warm embrace.

You pull back a little to admire his freckled face and can’t help but unleash the giggle that bubbles from your chest. It was contagious, as joy often is when you’re around him, and he can’t help but mirror you.

The two of you giggling in each other's arms under the shoddy string lights in the basement that has grown to mean so much to you — even more so now. 

The distinct squeak of the floorboard by the basement door sounds off, snapping you both back into reality.

“I thought we were the only ones here.” You sit up, hastily reaching for your clothes and throwing them on. Ace lifts his hips and slides his back on before kissing you on the top of your head and getting up. “Ace–“

“Stay here.” He turns around the corner and out of sight as he starts to go up the stairs. After a few steps in, the door opens and you straighten up. “Oh, it’s you. You little fucking perv.”

The sound of Ace’s boisterous laughter sounds off as two pairs of legs start coming back down. Every nerve is set on fire, anxiety ripping into your chest at the thought of seeing the person who had been listening in on you and Ace fucking.

But the familiar sight of blonde hair snuffs all the worries away, the dastardly pair smiling at you with devious intent.

“I had to pick up so I couldn’t make it to the bar tonight,” Sabo said with a grin, holding up the bag of weed he must’ve scored. “Must be my lucky day.” 

“Must be.” Ace scoffs, making his way back to you. He plops back down into his spot next to you, immediately mouthing at your neck before his voice curls around your ear. You don ’t break eye contact with Sabo as he stalks closer, placing the bag on the table before taking off his gloves. “What do you say, baby? Wanna let him smoke us up and show him exactly what happened down here?”

tags: @bontensh0e @autumnstuffs

[keraawrites]

Act right

Summary: Surburan Bakugo always got what he wanted, new watch? Got it. New trainers? Got them, you? Now that he had to work for you, especially as you laughed in his face and told him he wasn't your type. ۶ৎ Bakugo x black fem reader ۶ৎ

Context: Use of the word Nigga, hoodish reader, tattoos, nipple piercing, nickname (baby, mama, ma), unprotected sex, oral (m&f receiving), doggy, kitchen counter,

Babble: ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚Happy birthday to the one and only King explosion murder God ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Word count — 4.8k

The party was packed. Warm bodies pressed together, bass shaking the walls, the air thick with liquor and smoke. It was the type of function where people came to be seen—and if there was one thing Bakugo hated, it was being just another face in the crowd.

But that was before he saw you.

Standing by the couch, one hand wrapped around a hookah hose, the other lazily scrolling through your phone, you didn’t even look like you were trying. Skin glowed under the neon lights, nails long and glossy as they clacked against the screen. Your baby hairs were slicked to perfection, and your outfit? Hugging your body in ways that made more than a few heads turn.

Bakugo didn’t move at first. Just stood there, tongue running over his teeth, watching the way you took a slow drag from the hookah before exhaling, like you had all the time in the world.

“Tch,” he scoffed, knocking back the rest of his drink before making his way over. Heads turned as he passed—because of course they did. He wasn’t just anybody. His family had money. Real money. He was used to girls being all over him before he even had to say a word.

You looked up when he got close, one perfectly arched brow raising like you weren’t the least bit impressed. Bakugo smirked, bracing a hand on the couch beside you.

“What’s your name, ma?”

You exhaled another slow stream of smoke. “Why?”

His grin widened. “So I know what to call you when I’m makin’ you cream on my cock later.”

That’s when you did it. The worst possible thing he could imagine.

You laughed.

Not a cute little giggle. Not a shy little smirk. A real, full-blown, damn near disrespectful laugh.

And then you turned to your friend like, “Girl, he funny as hell.”

Bakugo blinked. Did you just—did you just laugh at him? Like he was a joke?

You turned back to him, still grinning. “First of all, lil’ boy, you not even my type.”

Little boy?

“Mmhmm.” You tapped his chest lightly with one manicured finger, like you were humoring him. “I like my men real. Rough hands. You look like you had a maid till you was damn near grown.”

Bakugo sucked his teeth. “What, you want a bum?”

“I want a man.”

The challenge in your eyes sent a spark of heat through his veins. Oh, you thought he was just some soft little trust fund baby? Thought he didn’t know shit about struggle?

That was cute.

“That why you over here playin’ games?” Bakugo asked, tilting his head.

You sucked your teeth. “Ain’t nobody playin’ wit’ you, boy. I just know yo’ type.”

“Yeah?” His voice dropped. “And what type is that?”

You leaned in, voice honey-sweet. “The type to get whatever he want… except me.”

Then you turned, real smooth, and strutted off—leaving Bakugo standing there, fists clenched, jaw tight and a fucking hard-on.

For someone who claimed he “didn’t chase,” Bakugo sure had been on your ass since the party.

It started with a follow request. You let it sit. Then came the first DM:

Bakugo: Yo.

Simple. Direct. No emojis. No fluff. You left him on read.

A few hours later:

Bakugo: You mad dry.

Bakugo: Bet you be eatin’ up these other dudes' messages tho.

You smirked at your phone, amused, but kept it moving.

By the next morning, he had liked three of your pictures—ones where you knew you looked good, but not the thirst traps. Nah, he went for the casual heat, like the one of you posted up in your car with your lip gloss popping, or the one where you were holding your godchild, just vibing.

Bakugo: You always this hard to get in touch with?

You: You always this pressed?

Bakugo: Tch. Keep playin' like I won’t pull up.

You hit him with the ultimate disrespect: a single, cold “lol.”

And if that wasn’t a downright invitation then he didn’t know what was.

He started showing up at functions you were at—always looking good, always staying just close enough for you to notice. And when you'd walk past?

"Oh, so you don’t see me?"

Loud. Too loud. Making sure everyone heard.

You’d roll your eyes, playing it off. “Boy, ain’t nobody worried about you.”

But honestly? You were noticing.

How he never let another girl get too close. How he wasn’t just flexing money—he was dripping with raw confidence. And that smirk? It was cocky as hell, but his eyes? His eyes were locked on you, like you were the only thing worth looking at.

And the texts kept coming.

Bakugo: I know you see me, ma.

You: Do I?

Bakugo: You funny. Let’s grab food.

You: Can’t.

Bakugo: You can. You just don’t wanna.

You: Correct.

He was so deep in it, and you could see the frustration building up in his texts. It was kinda cute.

You found it even funnier how he kept popping up everywhere. Like that night you saw him leaning against his car outside a party, talking to someone—but the moment he saw you, that conversation ended fast.

“Hey, ma,” he said, stepping into your path like he had the right to.

You crossed your arms, trying to keep it cool. “Oh, so we stoppin’ people in the street now?”

He smirked. “If that’s what it takes.”

You shook your head. “Boy, I told you—”

“I know what you told me,” he cut you off, voice dipping low. “And I don’t give a fuck.”

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “That so?”

The blonde licked his lips, eyes dragging over your outfit—black cargos, a cropped leather jacket, barley hiding the pink velvet bra that cupped your tits, and a chain hanging from your neck with your name in silver. Damn, he’d give anything to have his name there instead.

“C'mon, ma, at least smoke with me. If after tonight you still think I can’t keep up with you, then I’ll leave you alone.”

You eyed him, letting the silence stretch as you bit your lip. Katsuki was sexy, no doubt, but you’d never really given white guys a chance before.

But… free weed?

You sighed, tapping a nail against your phone. “Your weed any good, or we just gonna use up my stash?”

His smirk was instant. He should’ve thought of this weeks ago.

“Baby, we got the same dealer,” he said, stepping closer, voice dripping with confidence. “Trust me—the weed’s good.”

And with that, you found yourself walking toward his car.

Katsuki’s car smelled like leather and faint cologne, the kind that wasn’t overbearing but definitely expensive. You slid into the passenger seat, legs crossed, watching as he pulled out a fresh pack of Backwoods and a jar of weed that was most definitely not mids.

You raised an eyebrow. “So you wasn’t cappin’ about the weed.”

He scoffed, already breaking down the bud with practiced ease. “What I gotta lie for?”

You just hummed, watching his hands work. His fingers were fast, rolling with the kind of efficiency that told you he did this a lot. He tossed the blunt in his mouth, sparked it, and inhaled like it was second nature.

“Ladies first,” he said, exhaling thick clouds before passing it to you.

You took it, bringing it to your lips, letting the familiar burn hit before blowing out slow. “Least you got some manners,” you teased.

“Only ‘cause I want somethin’ from you,” he shot back, eyes gleaming in the low light.

You chuckled, shaking your head as you took another pull. “Honesty is crazy.”

Bakugo leaned back in his seat, legs spread in that way men did when they were too comfortable. “I am honest. Ain’t my fault these other dudes be lyin’ to get what they want.”

“And what exactly do you want?”

He smirked, reaching over to take the blunt from your fingers, the brush of his skin against yours sending a little shiver down your spine. “You know what I want, ma.”

You sucked your teeth but didn’t push it. Instead, you leaned back, letting the high settle in, watching as he turned the volume up on his speakers.

You almost did a double take at the song playing.

“Ain’t no way—”

He smirked. “What?”

“You listen to this?”

He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I?”

The beat of an old-school R&B track poured through the speakers, something smooth, something you knew. You side-eyed him as the song played, waiting for him to mess up, to skip it, to prove he was just fronting.

But nah. He knew it.

Knew the lyrics, knew the beat drops, even bobbed his head on cue.

You squinted at him. “You really just a lil’ white rich boy or is this a setup?”

He snorted, taking another drag before passing the blunt. “Just ‘cause I grew up with money don’t mean I got no taste.”

You had to admit—that was fair. And the more you sat there, the more you realised he wasn’t just some cocky rich kid trying to flex his way into your life.

The blunt burned slow between your fingers, the smoke curling into the dim air of his car. The vibe had shifted—not completely, but enough. It wasn’t just him flirting anymore, wasn’t just you brushing him off for fun.

“Alright,” Katsuki started, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke before nodding at you. “Ain't gonna lie, you know I Instagram stalked you but what can you tell me that's not on your insta?

You raised a brow, lazily tapping ash into the car’s cup holder. “There's nothing to tell.

He scoffed. “Don’t play dumb. You one of the hardest people to read I ever met.”

That made you smirk. “Good.”

The blonde rolled his eyes, but there was no frustration behind it. “You always this difficult?”

“You always this persistent?” you shot back.

He smirked. “Correct.”

You let the silence settle for a second, the smoke lingering between you before you finally answered. “I dunno. Ain’t much to tell, really. I just be doin’ me.”

“Everybody just be doin’ them,” he said, tilting his head. “What you be doin’ specifically?”

You hesitated for a second. Most dudes didn’t actually care about your answer. They just asked to fill space, to make it look like they gave a fuck. But something about the way Katsuki was looking at you—sharp, focused—told you he wasn’t asking just to hear himself talk.

“…I do nails,” you admitted finally, blowing smoke out slow. “Started in high school, and now I be doin’ sets for a couple IG girls and models.”

Bakugo nodded, looking genuinely impressed. “Shit, that’s tough. You be drawin’ designs and shit too?”

You smirked a little, the praise hitting a spot you hadn’t expected. “Yeah. Custom shit. I don’t like doin’ basic sets.”

He hummed, taking the blunt from you. “That why your nails always look fire?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “Stalker."

“If the shoe fits.” He took a hit, exhaling as he leaned back. “I ain’t chasin’ after you for nothin’.”

You shook your head but didn’t say anything, the heat from the weed sitting comfortably in your chest.

“…What about you?” you asked after a moment. “How come you this chill?”

Bakugo side-eyed you, amused. “You sayin’ I ain’t supposed to be?”

You shrugged. “Just thought you’d be more… I dunno. Aggressive? You be actin’ like you got no patience but here you are, still tryna talk to me after I been curvin’ you for weeks.”

He clicked his tongue. “Don’t get it twisted. I’m still impatient as fuck. I just know when somethin’s worth waitin’ for.”

You weren’t expecting that.

You felt it again—that shift. The way the air got a little heavier, the words settling deeper than they probably should have.

You cleared your throat, trying to brush past it. “So? What was it like growing up? Always been this cocky?”

Bakugo snorted. “Hell nah. My mom woulda smacked the shit outta me.”

That made you laugh, full and real. “Really?”

He grinned. “Really. You think I got this mouth from nowhere? Mitsuki Bakugo ain’t play about keepin’ me in check. Always told me to watch how I talk to people—and to shut the fuck up if I wasn’t sayin’ shit worth hearin’.”

You smirked, tilting your head. “She ain’t humble you enough, clearly.”

“Nah, the old bag humbled me plenty.” Katsuki leaned back, passing the blunt again. “Don't know if you know but she's a designer, used to work at home sometimes. And anytime she was in her studio, she had old-school R&B playin’ nonstop.”

Your brows lifted slightly. “For real?”

“Swear. I couldn’t go five minutes without hearin’ some Brandy or Mary J. Blige in the background.” He shook his head like he could still hear it now. “I used to hate that shit. Thought it was corny. But now? Shit’s nostalgic as hell.”

You exhaled smoke through your nose, watching him through the haze. Something about picturing him—loud, brash, rough-around-the-edges Bakugo—growing up with old R&B in the background made something in you soften a little.

Maybe you’d had him wrong. Maybe he wasn’t just cocky. Maybe he was real in a way that most people weren’t.

You tapped your fingers against your thigh, you felt the wave of heat around your body, you couldn't differentiate between the weed and your emotions but you were chalking it up to the weed.

The car was quiet, the hum of his radio filling the silence but it wasn't awkward. Bakugo continued to fill his car with smoke, his head tilted back, eyes closed as he felt the high.

"So when do you plan on taking me out then?"

Bakugo’s lips curved slow, like he’d just won a game he knew he was always gonna win.

"Oh yeah?"

You kissed your teeth "Boy, I will get out of this car."

His smirk deepened, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he just kept looking at you, his gaze dipping slightly—to your lips, then back up to your eyes.

For a second, you thought he was gonna kiss you.

And for a second, you would’ve let him.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he just leaned back, eyes heavy-lidded, and exhaled slow, "Whenever your ready ma."

It hadn't been long before he noticed the change, it was subtle so subtle you barely noticed it but he sure did. How you didn't leave him on read for too long, how you picked up your phone on the second ring.

You were always smiling when his name popped up on your phone. He never saw it, no, but he knew, he could hear the smile in your voice whenever you tried you brush him off.

Spending time with him just became normal. You didn’t even think about it anymore. You just found yourself in his car more often than not, in his passenger seat with your feet kicked up on his dash, his playlist bleeding through the speakers while he drove.

He took you out, too—not just on regular “lemme take you to get food” type outings, but real dates. He wasn’t cheap with it, either. Nice spots. Nothing corny, nothing he knew you wouldn’t be into.

And God were you into it. He loved watching your face light up when he took you to different food spots, and planned different activities, it made waiting for you ever the sweeter.

You were definitely his.

Didn’t mean you were all soft about it, though. Not in public, at least.

When y’all were out around other people, you kept your cool. Like you weren’t fully, 100% down bad for this man.

But everybody knew.

Because the first time some random girl tried to get too close to him at a function, you shut that shit down with a single look.

The bitch had barely gotten two words out before you were stepping up, sliding your arm across his chest in a way that wasn’t too obvious but sent a very clear message.

“Oh, hey baby,” you hummed, nails dragging over the fabric of his hoodie. “You good?”

Bakugo had barely been paying attention to the girl in the first place, but the way you were on him now? Oh, he was eating that shit up.

His arm immediately dropped around your waist, fingers gripping your hip with zero hesitation. “Yeah, I’m straight.”

And just like that? She knew what it was.

You weren’t one to be dramatic. You weren’t insecure, either. But you also weren’t one to share.

Bakugo was yours. You had taken your time letting him have you, but now that he had you? Oh, best believe he wasn’t going anywhere.

And by the way he kept pulling you closer, smirking against your ear as he whispered, “Damn, you jealous, ma?” you knew he was feeling the same way.

The kitchen smelled good as hell. You had the stove going, the blonde had been bitchin' and whinin' about wanting a home-cooked meal even though you told him to ask his mama. But here you were, music played low from your speaker as you stood in a cropped tank and booty shorts while working over the stove.

“You just gon’ stare or you tryna help?” you teased, peeking over your shoulder.

His lips curled, sharp and smug. “I would help, but you look too good doin’ it.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t bother fighting the grin pulling at your lips.

Bakugo stretched, arms flexing as he walked toward you. "Change this, I'm a little tired of hearing rap."

His chuckle came quickly, "You? A little tired of listening to rap music?"

"I'm gonna pop you in your mouth."

You felt his lips graze the back of your neck as he squeezed your hip. "You know I'm joking ma."

You kissed your teeth before gesturing him toward your phone. You didn’t think twice about it. He picked up your phone, unlocked it, and you kept cooking. But after a moment, the music still wasn’t playing.

You turned your head, eyebrow raised. “Damn, why’s it so quiet? You—”

But he wasn't picking a song.

He was staring at your screen.

Your open messages.

Your unread DMs.

His jaw flexed, nostrils flaring.

“Yo.” His voice was tight. “Why the fuck you got all these dudes in your phone?”

Your brows furrowed, turning fully now. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He held up your phone like it was evidence, like the messages flashing across the screen were something brand new.

You scoffed. “Oh, so you go through my phone now?”

“I ain’t go through shit. This popped up right in my face. You got, what, five, six dudes all up in your messages? You entertaining that?”

Your jaw locked. “Why you pressed?”

“Why am I—?” Bakugo laughed—humourless, sharp. “Don’t play dumb. I ain’t been out here with no other bitches. I ain’t even looked at another girl since you let me get next to you. Meanwhile, you got a lineup waiting for you?”

“First of all, lower your damn voice,” you snapped, stepping closer, “and second? Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”

Katsuki clenched his jaw, his chest rising, his hands curling into fists. “I’m talkin’ to you, ma. To the girl I been all the way locked in with, thinkin’ she been on the same shit, but—”

“But what?” You glared up at him, heat crawling up your spine. “You the one trippin’ over some old-ass messages from before you were even in the picture. So tell me, Katsuki, what exactly do you think is happening here?”

His breathing was heavy. His fingers flexed, like he was fighting the urge to grab you. “I think you got me fucked up.”

That’s when you really got up in his face. “And you got me fucked up if you think you can tell me what to do with my phone like I don’t got my own mind.”

"Yeah, but if it were me? If I had some fucking hoes all up in my phone this would be a different story wouldn't it? If the roles were switched you would have already threatened to kill me and them other bithces so don't tell me I got you fucked up."

“You’re damn right it’d be a different story,” you hissed, chest nearly pressed to his now. “Because if I ever saw you entertainin’ bitches like that, I'd pop you in your big ass head."

“But you know what the difference is?” you went on, jaw tight, voice dropping low. “I didn’t answer them. Didn’t even open half those messages. ‘Cause I been here. With you. Cooking for your ungrateful ass, letting you run through my snacks, sleep in my bed--"

He stared at you, chest rising and falling, lips parted like he had something to say and didn’t know how to say it. And then he just—

Laughed.

Low and sharp, head tilting as he ran a hand down his face, then back over his hair like he was tryna shake something loose.

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy, you know that?”

You crossed your arms. “Good.”

“I’m serious.”

“I said good, Katsuki.”

He moved fast after that.

One second he was across the kitchen, and before you could even blink, he had you backed into the counter, his hands flat on either side of you, boxing you in before he kissed you. His hands were rough, sliding down to grip your thighs, hoisting you up on the counter like you weighed nothing.

Your back hit the cabinets with a thud as Bakugo pulled you to the edge of the counter, lips never leaving your neck. His hands gripped your thighs like he owned 'em—like he had a right to claim every part of you.

“Tell me to stop,” he muttered against your skin, voice low, almost breathless. “Say the word and I will.”

You grabbed a fistful of his hoodie and yanked. “Katsuki, if you stop right now, I will fight you.”

He grinned—crooked and cocky, like he’d just won. “That’s my girl.”

Then he was on you again. Lips hot and greedy, teeth grazing your jaw, tongue sliding against yours like he couldn’t get enough. His hands slid under your tank top, rough palms dragging up your sides, thumbs brushing the underside of your tits like he was mapping you out with touch alone.

You moaned into his mouth, legs locking around his waist, pulling him closer.

He peeled off your tank and tossed it somewhere behind him, lips dropping to your chest like he’d been starved for the taste. His mouth wrapped around your nipple while his other hand teased the other one—squeezing, rolling, pinching just enough to make your breath catch.

“Fuck, Katsuki—” You arched into him, hand flying to the back of his head, your other gripping the counter like it could keep you grounded.

You squeeled as he bit onto your piercing, tugging at it slightly before his tongue flattened out against it.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he mumbled against your skin, “so soft, so warm. Got me trippin’ over you, baby.”

You continued to moan as he sucked on your nipples, his fingers pushing past the waist of your shorts before he was met with the slick heat of your folds.

He moaned out against you, your head tilted back slightly as his thumb worked against your clit "Fuck, been wanting to taste this pussy, you gonna let me eat ma?"

You tugged on his hair, moaning softly as he pinched your clit. You nodded eagerly, he chuckled against your neck as he peppered small kisses along your body.

He dropped to his knees, dragging your shorts down in one slow motion, eyes glued to your dripping cunt. “Fuck, baby…”

He hooked your leg over his shoulder and dove in, tongue dragging through your folds before flicking against your clit, slow and teasing.

“Mmm,” he groaned, sucking the bud into his mouth. “Could eat this pussy for days.”

You bit your lip, head falling back as his mouth worked you open—languid licks, rough tongue, fingers sliding into you one by one until your thighs started trembling. He was filthy with it, moaning into your pussy like he needed it to breathe.

“God, Katsuki—” your voice cracked, legs shaking, hand flying to the back of his head, grinding your hips against his face.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he growled between licks. “Ride my fuckin’ face.”

You did. Rode it shamelessly, until your orgasm tore through you like a wave, hips jerking, thighs clamping around his head as you gasped his name like a prayer.

Bakugo didn’t move until your whole body went slack. The blonde grinned as he came from between your thighs. You pulled him forward, lips meeting each other in haste. You moaned, tasting yourself on his tongue as it slid into your mouth.

After a while, you pushed against his chest, his brows furrowing in confusion as he watched you. You bit your lip softly as you dropped to your knees, his eyes darkened as he followed your form.

Fuck, you looked so pretty like this.

You yanked his sweats down, watching his cock spring free—thick, veiny, flushed pink at the tip, already leaking.

He groaned as you wrapped your hand around him, stroking slow while you pressed kisses along the underside, tongue teasing the tip. He hissed, hand flying to the back of your head.

“Fuck, ma…”

You swallowed him halfway, lips stretching around him, eyes locked on his the whole time. Then you pulled back—just to spit on it, mess it up even more, before taking him deep. Your throat tightened around him and his hips bucked forward on instinct.

“Shit—yo, slow down,” he panted, staring down at you like he didn’t know whether to stop you or let you ruin him. “You tryna make me nut already?”

You moaned around him, tongue dragging along the underside of his shaft as you bobbed your head faster. One hand on his thigh, the other gently massaging his balls, fuck -- you were too damn good at this.

“God damn, girl,” he groaned, voice hoarse. “Look at you. Slobbin’ all over this dick like it’s your fuckin’ job.”

Tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes, spit dripping down your chin, but you didn’t stop. You loved the way he lost composure—head tilted back, abs flexing, thighs twitching.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, grabbing your face, ignoring the whine that left your lips as he pulled you off him with a wet pop. “Get up. Bend over the fuckin’ counter.”

You moaned as your cheek hit the counter, your breath caught your throat as his fingers ran along the base of your spine, down to your ass, squeezing rough. “Leg up,” he ordered, smacking your thigh. “Get that shit up for me.”

You obeyed, hiking one leg up on the counter, spreading yourself wider for him.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he growled, lining himself up behind you. You moaned, wiggling your ass softly as you felt him tap your clit with his tip.

You cried out, fingers gripping the counter like your life depended on it as he sank into you, one brutal thrust.

He didn’t give you time to adjust—he couldn’t. He was too far gone. All that jealousy, all that possessiveness, all that hunger came out in his strokes.

Your moans come out in pants as he continues to drive into you, you live for the groans that were coming from above you as you continued to squeeze around him.

"Fuck, this pussy too good,” he groaned, slamming into you from behind, the slap of skin on skin echoing through the kitchen. “Squeezing me so. Fucking. Right.”

You moaned, back arching, your arm reaching behind you as you tried to push against his abs. The blonde let put a dark chuckle, your arm now bent behind you as he leaned over, and sliding up your stomach to squeeze your tit, mouth at your ear.

"Nah, don't run from this dick. Your gonna take every God damn inch of me because your fucking mine!"

You moaned again, eyes fluttering. “'M sorry Suki-- all yours. All yours!”

He pulled your head back, kissed you hard, then dropped his hand between your legs to rub your clit while he fucked you from behind.

Your body started shaking again, that orgasm creeping up fast. He felt it, too—how tight you got, how your moans changed pitch.

“Cum for me,” he growled. “Let that shit go. I wanna feel it.”

Yours eyes faded to the back of your head, your vision turning black as you gushed around him, your pussy clenching around him so tight it made him hiss and slam in even harder.

“Fuck, fuck—fuck,” he cursed, voice raw, as you continued to squirt around him. Your fluids running down your legs as he sent one more thrust, his hips stuttering as he finally came inside you, holding you still as he emptied himself, his fingers digging into your waist like he was scared you’d slip away.

Your head hit the counter softly, wincing slightly as he pulled out of you. You moaned softly as he kissed you up your spine.

"You done with your caveman shit?" He chuckled into your ear, lips still against your skin.

"Not at all ma."

𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘮𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘢𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 ©

[starryeyed-seer]

Oooh Varchaasi fashion!! Really really like your ideas on it : D

I have an oc who is half Varchaasi and raised in London, and I've been wanting to dream up some Varchas style for her for ages.... I have a draft on this blog still of when I went looking at canon text and then got frustrated by the fact Varchas is aesthetically and semi implied to be related to Angkor Wat— but fashion and culturally doesn't seem at all Cambodian. Hardly the only place FL (especially older lore) lifts the tough idea of a real thing but nothing else, but a bit frustrating.

Turns out I'm not done. Still trying to puzzle out her face.

[nocturnewidow]

In the Crowd, Only You

Marc Spector x reader

~2.5k words + intimate themes ⭑.ᐟ

The crowd moved like a living organism, pulsing and writhing under dim city lights. A humid buzz of voices and flickering neon signs bled into the night air, thick with heat and anticipation. Marc’s hand gripped yours tightly, threading through bodies like a blade through silk, never letting you slip more than an inch away.

“Eyes up,” he muttered, voice low and rough against your ear. “We don’t know who Harrow’s got watching.”

His palm settled on the small of your back, hot and steady.

“You think I’m gonna wander off and start sightseeing?” you asked, trying to play it cool despite the adrenaline threading your veins. “C’mon, Spector. I’m not helpless.”

He glanced over his shoulder. A smirk pulled at his lips, but the tension in his jaw never eased. “Didn’t say you were. But if Harrow gets to you, it’s game over. So yeah stay glued to me.”

Another surge of the crowd pressed in, and Marc shifted fast, turning to shield you with his body. His arm slid fully around your waist, fingers splayed possessively as he guided you backwards into a narrow alley.

“Back door to the safehouse’s this way,” he said, scanning every shadow.

You barely registered the words. You were too focused on how close he was how his breath ghosted across your cheek, how every move he made felt deliberate. Controlled. Like he was fighting to stay grounded.

“Marc,” you said softly, teasing. “Is it the threat of Harrow or just an excuse to keep touching me like this?”

His eyes snapped to yours. That familiar, stormy intensity. “Both,” he said without hesitation.

Your breath caught.

That was the thing with Marc. He didn’t play coy. Didn’t pull punches. Even under threat, even when the world felt like it was about to split open he let the heat bleed through.

He turned his head slightly, lips brushing your temple.

“You’re warm,” he murmured.

You arched a brow. “We’ve been sprinting through Cairo’s underground in forty degree heat, genius. Of course I’m warm.”

He chuckled, rough and low. “No I mean, you’re warm. Comforting.”

That silenced you. Just for a second.

But then a distant shout cracked through the alley. A voice in Arabic. Harrow’s voice.

Marc stiffened immediately. “Go,” he growled, grabbing your hand again and pulling you into a fast sprint down a narrow corridor between buildings. Trash bins, flickering lights, the buzz of distant mopeds it all blurred. Your lungs burned. Your heart pounded.

And then he stopped short, slamming his arm out to stop you just before a corner. His body shielded you as he peeked around.

“Three of them. Harrow’s goons. Shit.” You pressed close, trying to listen over your breath. “What now?” you asked. He turned to you, eyes wild but focused. “Now we pretend.” You blinked. “Pretend?”

Then his hand cupped your cheek. His body pressed flush to yours, pinning you against the brick wall, and his mouth found yours before you could protest.

It was fierce. Not gentle, not soft. It was the kiss of a man who needed you alive. Who needed you safe. And maybe maybe a little bit of a man who’d been waiting for an excuse. His mouth moved against yours like fire. Urgent. Possessive. When he finally pulled back, his breath was ragged.

“They’ll ignore a couple making out in the dark,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “But if I stopped to look, they’d know something’s up.”

You swallowed, trying to come to terms with what just happened “You’ve… done that before, huh?” His lips twitched. “Jealous?” “Please,” you said, though your voice wobbled. “I’d win.”

Marc leaned in again, lips brushing your jaw now, then your throat. “You already did.”

You were about to say something smart maybe even meaningful when he suddenly pulled back. Footsteps echoed nearby. The voices were closer.

Marc grabbed your hand again, more desperate this time, and led you down a service stairwell behind an abandoned hookah bar.

Inside, it was all cracked tile and dust, but he didn’t stop moving until you hit a hidden steel door tucked behind a broken vending machine. He input a code fast, and it hissed open.

The safehouse. Concrete, barren. But safer than the streets. He shut the door behind you, locking it, and leaned back against it chest rising and falling hard.

You stood across from him, the silence buzzing between you. And then he laughed. Sharp, incredulous. “What?”

He shook his head. “You kissed back.” You crossed your arms. “You kissed me, Spector.”

He grinned, something wild in his expression now. “Yeah. And you didn’t hesitate. Not for a second.” You stepped closer, chin tilted up. “Are we really arguing about who kissed who? Because if you want a rematch…”

He closed the gap in an instant. His hands found your hips, grounding you, and this time when his lips met yours it wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t a cover. It was everything he’d been holding back.

The danger still loomed, but here, now, you were wrapped up in something just as powerful. The heat of a man who’d been forced to feel everything and say nothing. A man who used silence as armor and now found something someone worth breaking it for.

You pulled back first, breathless. “Is this a bad idea?” you whispered. Marc looked you over slowly. “Oh, absolutely.” You smiled. “Then why do you look like you want to do it again?”

He leaned in, his voice thick with heat. “Because I do.” A moment passed. Then another.

And in that silence, Marc reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch lingered, tracing your jaw. So soft, in contrast to the world outside.

“I’m not good at this,” he said finally. “At… caring.” You smiled, gentle now. “You’re not bad at it either.”

He sighed, dropping his forehead to yours. “If Harrow touches you, I’ll kill him. No hesitation. You know that, right?” Your hand slid up his chest. “I know. But he’s not going to touch me.” Marc nodded once. “Damn right.”

The moment fractured again when his comm crackled. Steven’s voice slightly panicked. “Marc? Are you okay, mate? You and her you got out, right?” Marc pressed the button, not moving from you. “We’re safe. For now.”

You tilted your head, and Marc smirked at your expression. “What?” “You said ‘we,’” you murmured. “Not just ‘I’m safe.’”

He blinked. Then something soft crossed his face.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “We.”

────୨ৎ────

[tinkaaabutt]

Supermodel- ekko.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

A fix inspired by Supermodel by our fav liar sza!

Ekko leaned against the brick wall of the bodega, his skateboard resting beside him. The low hum of the city was like a song he couldn’t get out of his head—car horns blaring, laughter spilling from a nearby hookah lounge, and the faint bass of a song blasting out of someone’s car. He pulled his hoodie tighter against the chill of the evening, but his attention wasn’t on any of it.

It was on you.

You stepped out of the corner store, all legs and confidence, carrying a bag of snacks and a look that could stop traffic. Your oversized leather jacket fell off one shoulder, showing off a fitted tank top underneath. Gold hoops glinted in your ears, catching the light, and your sneakers—freshly creased Air Forces—were spotless, as usual.

You looked like you belonged in the pages of a magazine, but the thing was, you didn’t care about being noticed. And that’s what made it impossible not to.

“Damn, you just gonna keep staring?” you called out, your voice cutting through the city noise like a melody.

Ekko smirked, pushing off the wall. “Maybe. You make it kinda hard not to.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile playing on your lips betrayed you. “Don’t start, Ekko. What’re you even doing out here? Waiting for me?”

“Who says I wasn’t?” he shot back, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed, brushing past him. “Well, if you’re gonna waste your night following me, at least make yourself useful.”

You didn’t wait for him to catch up, but you didn’t have to. Ekko grabbed his board and fell into step beside you, matching your pace as you strolled down the block.

“Where we headed?” he asked, glancing over at you.

“Nowhere special,” you said with a shrug. “Just needed some air. You know how it is.”

Ekko nodded. He did know. Life could feel heavy sometimes, like you were carrying the weight of everyone else’s expectations. You wore yours well, though—like armor. But Ekko had seen enough to know it didn’t always feel like it fit.

“You good?” he asked after a moment.

You side-eyed him, raising a perfectly arched brow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just asking,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “You know, in case you needed someone to talk to or whatever.”

You laughed, a soft, melodic sound that made his chest tighten. “You’re cute for that. But I don’t need a therapist, Ekko. I’m fine.”

He didn’t push it, but he didn’t believe you, either. Instead, he pulled a snack out of the bag you were carrying—a bag of spicy chips—and opened it without asking.

“Seriously?” you said, stopping to glare at him.

“What?” he said, popping a chip in his mouth. “You weren’t gonna share?”

“I didn’t say that,” you muttered, snatching the bag back. But your lips twitched, and Ekko knew he’d won.

The two of you wandered aimlessly, weaving through side streets and alleys lit by the warm glow of streetlights. The conversation shifted from light jokes to music recommendations, to shared memories that made both of you laugh until your stomachs hurt.

By the time you found yourselves sitting on a park bench, the city had quieted, and the air was filled with that late-night stillness that made everything feel softer.

“You ever think about how people see you?” you asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Ekko glanced at you, caught off guard by the question. “What do you mean?”

“Like…” You hesitated, your fingers toying with the hem of your jacket. “People think I’ve got it all together, you know? Like I’m some kind of supermodel or whatever. But they don’t actually see me.”

Ekko leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at you. “I see you.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Yeah, okay.”

“I’m serious,” he said, his voice low but steady. “I see you. Not just the way you walk into a room like you own it, or the way you roast me every chance you get. I see the way you care about people, even when you don’t want them

to notice. I see the way you hustle, the way you never let anyone catch you slipping. I see you.”

Your laughter faded, replaced by a soft, almost vulnerable expression. You opened your mouth to say something, but no words came out. For once, you didn’t have a witty comeback or a sharp edge to deflect with.

“You don’t gotta do that,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “Act like I’m… more than what people see.”

“You are more,” Ekko said without hesitation. His brown eyes met yours, steady and unshaken. “And if nobody else is gonna remind you of that, I will.”

The silence stretched between you, heavy but not uncomfortable. The city lights reflected in your eyes, and for a moment, Ekko forgot where he was.

“You’re really good at this, huh?” you said after a while, breaking the tension with a smirk.

“Good at what?”

“Making a girl feel seen,” you teased, though your voice was softer than usual. “Careful, hero. You keep this up, and I might start thinking you actually like me.”

Ekko chuckled, leaning back against the bench. “Maybe I do.”

You blinked, clearly not expecting him to admit it so easily. “You don’t scare easy, do you?”

“Not when it comes to you,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

For the first time, you didn’t have a quick retort. Instead, you leaned back, the tension in your shoulders easing as you let out a quiet sigh.

“Alright, Ekko,” you said, your voice light but sincere. “You think you can handle me? Let’s see if you’re about it.”

He grinned, pulling out his phone and holding it up like a microphone. “I’m ready for the interview. First question— how does it feel to be the most smartest caring girl on this lousy ass planet?”

You burst out laughing, swatting at his arm. “Shut up!”

“Not until you answer!”

And just like that, the heaviness between you melted away. The two of you stayed in the park for hours, talking about everything and nothing, stealing chips from each other’s bag, and daring the city to try and interrupt.

Because if ekko couldn't see anything he'd always will see you.

Ahhh i love him sm👌🏾👌🏾 i wrote this one for the non gay gyals hopefully theyll enjoy it

[astr0n0va1]

𝐌𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚 - 𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐬 - 𝟏

Hey guys this is the official part 1 of the 6 part series 𝐌𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚, enjoy and feel free to reblog, and share your thoughts. - N0va 2,156 words Songs: Algo Magico By Rauw Alejandro, Mi Santa by Rauw Alejandro

*SOMEWHERE IN THE STREETS OF MIAMI

After Y/n sent Armando the location of the home he strapped his duffel bag to the backseat of his bike and got ready to start his motorcycle when he noticed a car parked not far from him.

He looked back, brushed it off, placed his helmet on, started his motorcycle, and started driving. It wasn't until he had passed 2 blocks and noticed that the car was following him. He sped up trying to lose the car, but the driver kept up. Armando saw a nearby alley and went down it to stop the car from following him.

In the alleyway, he stopped for a second and tried to call Mike, but it went to voicemail. Then he received a text from an unknown number.

"Hola Señor Aretas, nos vemos pronto. - tu flor favorita"

He blocked the number and brushed it off trying to ignore some old memories flooding into his head. There was no way it was her, there was technically no possible way of it. He took a deep breath, placed his helmet on, and made his way to his destination.

>>> Now in Downtown Miami at the getaway house*

You, Dorn, and Kelly were the first to arrive out of everyone, which you were expecting as you knew Rafe would show up later with the booze, and Armando would probably be the last one there.

As you all settled in you decided to give Dorn and Kelly the master bedroom as they were the only couple on the trip. You took the second biggest bedroom at the end of the hallway, this left the bedroom across and next to you available to Armando and Rafe.

As you set your suitcase down Dorn and Kelly came into your room.

"I'm starving." Dorn comments.

"So.." You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I do not like your attitude, Missy," Dorn responds.

"Dorn leave her alone, she hasn't gotten any in a while," Kelly said, trying to whisper the last part.

"I heard that," you said as you threw a pillow at the both of them.

"Y/n you need to put yourself more out there that's all we are trying to say," Kelly said in a sympathetic tone.

"I don't blame her have you seen the dickheads that approach Y/n, so if you ask me take your time and don't just fuck dickheads just because you're sexually frustrated and alone," Dorn advised you.

"Thanks Dorn, I will keep in mind the fact that I am sexually frustrated and alone." You said before getting up from the bed and making your way to the kitchen.

Kelly hit Dorn's head, "Asshole." She said

"What'd I do?" he said.

"LET'S GO LOVEBIRDS, DINNER ISN'T GOING TO MAKE ITSELF," you yelled from the kitchen.

As they made their way down, the door opened and Rafe made his way in with bottles of booze and a hookah.

"Why'd you bring a hookah?" You asked Rafe.

"Because we are getting lit this weekend and because of our jobs we are not allowed to get high, so we have to smoke something." He said before placing all the stuff down on the counter.

"So what should we make for dinner?" You asked.

"I don't know what we have in the fridge," Kelly said while she opened the fridge.

"Ok we have enough ingredients to make burgers which I say we save for tomorrow, or pasta for tonight," she said while taking a closer look inside.

"Ok, pasta it is." She said while pulling out some of the ingredients.

You and Kelly both started preparing things while Rafe and Dorn started setting up something on the TV and the speaker. About 20 minutes had passed and there was a knock at the door. Rafe went to answer and found Armando at the door.

"Hey man, glad you made it.” He said while letting Armando in the house.

Armando made his way into the house examining it as he walked. He made his way to the living room where he greeted Dorn who took him to the kitchen where you and Kelly were.

“Hi, Armando.” You said and went back to what you were doing.”

“Hey Y/n thanks for the invite.  ” He said, placing his duffel bag down on the chair. He then saw Kelly a few inches away from you and just sent her a nod, to which responded with a small nod. 

“Yeah, no problem.” You said before turning back to the stove.

“If you want, tell  Rafe to take you to the rooms and by the time you’re back dinner will be served. After the dinner, Y/n can show you the house so you can get familiar with it.” Kelly said before grabbing the plates.

“Oh ok, thanks Kelly,” Armando said before making their way to Rafe so they could go upstairs. 

You and Kelly served the food and put the plates on the table, and by the time you both sat down, everyone was at the table. Dinner was good. You all talked, made jokes, and laughed.  After you all finished you picked up the plates from the table and then went to start the sink to start washing everything, since the kitchen was now a mess. 

“Y/n I’m sorry I’m tired and so full, do you mind cleaning up by yourself,” Kelly asked you.

“It’s fine, I understand, you guys can go to bed, I got it.” You said.

She blew you a kiss and walked off with Dorn who was waiting for her at the stairs. 

“Goodnight Y/n,” said Rafe as he also went upstairs.

“Night Rafe,” you responded.

As you finished loading cups and utensils into the dishwasher you felt someone next to you.

“Is there anything I can help with?” He asked.

“No, I got it.” You said.

He still grabbed a rag and started cleaning surfaces and the stove. You were surprised you didn’t think he would be like this.

“I’m kind of surprised I wasn’t expecting you to be…” He cut you off.

“Surprised of what, that I cleaned, or that I showed up?” He said with a small intrigued smile.

“Well, both 'cause I didn’t know this side of you. I don't know, it just seems more calm” You replied.

“I mean yeah everyone thinks I only know how to kill and fight,” he says.

“Fuck I’m sorry I didn’t mean it that way.” You said.

“It’s okay I understand, it’s not like I have shown the rest of my personality. So trust me, it’s ok.” He responds trying to make you feel better.

“I’m sorry I really didn’t mean it that way, it's just that when I'm nervous I tend to just speak and not think.” You explained as you loaded the last plate into the dishwasher and closed it.

“Do I make you nervous?” Armando asked as he placed the rag on a rack so it could dry.

“Yes but not for the reasons you might think.” You said.

You dried your hand and took him on a tour of the house, you showed him the pool/backyard area, the laundry room, and the small house gym it had inside. And then start to make your way to the garage.

“And this is the garage, the last place we needed to cover the whole house.” You said while guiding him in. 

“It’s a nice place, I parked my bike out front. Is it okay if I bring it in here?” He asked while still examining the garage.

“Yeah of course,” you said before opening the garage door for the last spot.

He made his way out and in about 2 minutes he came back on his motorcycle. Something about him on the motorcycle made you feel hot, he noticed you staring. 

“You want to take a ride?” he asked.

“Is it safe this late at night?” you respond, even though you knew you wanted to get with no doubt.

“Yeah we will be fine, let's go.” He said while offering you his helmet.

“But what will you wear?” You asked as you took the helmet in your hands.

“I’ll be fine,  I'm experienced and your safety is more important anyway,” he said while starting the bike. You felt your face get hot when he said that your safety is more important. So you took the helmet put it on and hopped on behind him.

“Is it okay if I put my arms around you, I’m not sure what to hold on to?” You asked. When the words left your mouth you realized what you had just said. 

“Yeah, whatever you want.” He said. 

You put your arms around his waist causing your body to come into very close proximity with his. To the point where your whole body was pressed to his back and your arms were looped around his waist.

“You ready?” He asked.

You responded with a nod and he started to back up out of the garage, and into the street. Before you knew it you guys were riding around the streets of Miami, and all of it felt good. The wind, the adrenaline, and the feeling of Armando’s body close to you. He smelled amazing; it was like a woody and Ambery scent that just made you want to stay on top of him for the whole night.

Before you realized it you were both making your way back into the garage. The bike came to a stop, and you unclasped your arms from around his waist and took off the helmet. 

“Thank you, that was fun,” you said before getting completely off the bike.

“Yeah anytime Princess,” he said before placing his helmet on the bike and shutting the garage door. You gave him a small nod and walked back into the house. On your way to your room, you remembered the feeling of being on the bike with him, his scent, and how he called you Princess. This caused you to smile like a little kid in a candy store. 

When you made it into your room you decided to take a shower. But when you started taking your shirt off you felt his scent on your shirt, and instead of throwing it in your laundry bag, you threw it to your bed. 

You took a nice hot shower washed your hair too, did your skincare, and put your hair in a towel waiting for it to dry. You put on pajamas and lay on your bed for about 30 minutes waiting for your hair to finish drying. But then until you got thirsty and decided to go get a water bottle.

You opened your door and took a peek down the hallway and noticed that the downstairs light was on. You remembered turning it off, so it had no reason to be on. You quietly made your way downstairs to the kitchen where you found Armando looking through the fridge. Before you said anything you took a moment to admire his toned arms and abs that trailed down to his lower stomach area.

You snapped out of it and finally decided to say something. 

“Hey did you need something?” you asked pretending you were just now walking into the kitchen. 

“Yeah I was looking for cold water but there aren’t any in here.” He replied. As soon as he said that his eyes examined your body and what you were wearing. 

“I think I have a water case in my trunk. Do you mind bringing it in?” you asked.

“Yeah I can.” you then led him to the garage and grabbed your keys from the key holder to unlock your car. You could feel him staring at you, but you weren't sure if he was staring for the right reasons. But then you were wearing pajama shorts that sat on the tip of your ass, and your cropped spaghetti strap wasn’t helping but that was what you packed.

After he brings the water in and places it on the counter, you lock your car, grab a water bottle, and start walking upstairs which he follows behind you. Now you both stood in front of your room doors.

“Thank you for bringing the water in.” you spit out trying not to get distracted by his figure.

“Yeah no problem,” he said before you could turn the knob for your door. 

“OK. Goodnight Armando.” You shortly replied. And before you closed your door you heard it.

“Goodnight princess,” he said before fully closing his door.

You closed your door and your face began to feel hot again, you were blushing. At that moment you realized you did have a crush on Armando. You laid on your bed replaying the moments from tonight and little by little fell asleep. 

Tomorrow was going to be a long day, and you were going to need all the energy you had.

______________________________________________________________

Taglist: @cardi-bre91 @believeinthefireflies95 

______________________________________________________________

Hi guys hope you guys liked it, share your thoughts and the next part might take me more time because it is longer but will be posted in the 2-3 days. <3

[alice-the-demon]

Wonder Tower ♦️♣️♠️♥️

Let's take a closer look at them, shall we?

Peppino

He arrived in Wonderland with no memory of his past, with the only thing that remembers is that he was trying to catch a snow white rabbit. Welcomed by the White King, Peppino was given the mission to venture in this land and reach the Tower ruled by the Queen of Hearts to defeat them and free this land from their maniacal and destructive clutch. Peppino reluctantly accepts and, accompanied by the King and his trustworthy yet odd cavalry, ventures in forests filled with contradictory signs, gardens full of talking flowers, beaches with animals that run continuously and more, making friends along the way while sometimes getting annoyed with all the nonsense that habits this absurd land. Peppino wears an armour, gloves and heels donated by the White King, has ruffled hair and dark circles under his eyes, almost as if he hasn't slept well in months. He really has the face of someone who is tired of all this stuff, he can be kind but most of the time he is either so nervous that he stays still while shaking like a leaf or on the verge of exploding with anger because of his hammering headaches.

White King

He's the sovereign of Wonderland... or, well, the ex sovereign of Wonderland, losing his power against the maddening Queen of Hearts. He always wears white regal clothes with a silver crown placed on his short curly brown hair, along with a nice moustache that makes him look more friendly. The White King is the one to properly welcome Peppino to Wonderland and to tell him that he's the chosen one to defeat the Queen of Hearts that is terrorising the inhabitants of this place and become the new king. Of course, White King accompanies Peppino in this adventure, although he's more of a pacifist and prefers to not participate in battles, at most he acts as a guide and emotional supporter for whenever Peppino is in distress.

White Rabbit

The White King's most trusted and loyal friend, a giant white rabbit wearing a blue waistcoat with twirling whiskers who can run for miles at a great speed. He's the first character Peppino has met and also the one who carried him to the White King's castle. He doesn't speak, but can express himself through gestures and squeaks.

Chesire Cat

The first odd character Peppino meets in his journey, a red striped cat with a wide, sly smile and a collar with a diamond shaped jewel attached to it. He doesn't seem to take anything seriously, always having a nonchalant and relaxed way of acting, laughing and making jokes to anyone he meets. He was ordered to stop Peppino from arriving at the Tower, doing so by deceiving and confounding him with the ability of turning invisible and removing parts of his body... But he preferred to play with Peppino's confusion with this place before deciding to join the duo to their journey to rebel against the Queen of Hearts.

(The bosses in this AU aren't Peppino's enemies, they act more as allies here :P )

Caterpillar

The second fellow Peppino will meet. This weird character (as if the others weren't weird enough) has some of the characteristics of a caterpillar, multiple arms, long body (most of it covered with pants) and antennas, but also have a humanoid torso, head and hands, always decorated with various jewellery included a bracelet with a club shaped gem on it. He's a man of few words and pretty susceptible, he spends most of his time smoking with his hookah in the middle of a field.

The Mad Hatter

Definitely the most annoying one. He's a silly small man with twirling moustaches and a bucktooth wearing a funny hat resembling a tea pot (and functions like a tea pot!), wearing a yellow suit with a spade-shaped jewel attached to his papillon. Even more of a jerk than the Cheshire Cat, the Mad Hatter spends most of his time doing tea parties to celebrate his own and his friends' "unbirthday" for 364 days along with his moving mechanical tea pots. He rarely pays attention to what the others are saying and often creates big messes, making him Peppino's least favourite person in this absurd place.

March Hare and Dormouse

Respectively the girlfriend and best friend of the Mad Hatter. The first is a hare with pink clothing and black raven hair, she's a real party animal, always finding her boyfriend's parties endearing with a frivolous demeanor; the second is a, well, dormouse with blue fur and a sleepy look all the time, so much he sleeps during the parties inside teapots or sugar bowls, but he enjoys the company and savour the tea every once in a while.

Knight of Hearts

The last guy Peppino meets before facing the Queen of Hearts. He's supposed to be guarding the Queen's roses garden... But he acts like a puppy doing their best in their job. The Knight of Hearts always wears a rusty bronze helm, hiding his face, and armour decorated with a ruined red cape attached with a heart shaped jewel on a brooch. He's armed with a sword and shield, both ruined and damaged looking, but the Knight doesn't really know how to use them anyway. They never speak but it's clear that they're very naive and, for how clumsy they are, their movements are almost always unpredictable, always tripping either on their own cape or with any object that meet the Knight's foot.

Queen of Hearts

The apparent last obstacle Peppino has to face, the mad ruler of Wonderland, always wearing a regal red, green and black dress with roses and hearts, a crown placed on their red twirling and heart-shaped wig and a wide crazy smile on her face along with heart symbols on her cheeks and a red nose. They always have a creepy wide smile on their face, mumbling senseless phrases, putting chaos in all Wonderland, often threatening their servants to cut their heads at the minuscule error they make and breaking anything they don't like with their axe.

King of Hearts

The husband of the Queen of Hearts. He wears a crown to cover his balding head, glasses and a red vest with thick white fur. Although he's the King of Wonderland he doesn't really have that much power, not with that maddening Queen in command. Most of the time he remains aloof, in hope to be safe by the Queen's tantrums.

Jabberwocky

The beast of madness, causing chaos to be spread in Wonderland by using the Queen of Hearts as a puppet, residing right on the top of the Tower. A dragon-like monster with teeth sharp like razors and chain-like whiskers, bringing anyone to the Jabberwocky's mercy by spiraling them into insanity to anyone who gets attached to them. He's ferocious and malicious, the only way to defeat him is to make a clean cut on the scar on his nape (hidden by the red scales on his head) while maintaining your mind lucid.

Sunflower

She's one of the flowers of a garden Peppino ventures in the same garden as the Caterpillar's, has a pretty singing voice although she's not noticed by the other flowers for how small she is. She mistakes Peppino's shiny armour for the sun and asks him if she can join the group too. Peppino accepts, both because it would've been rude to not accept an innocent flower's wish, but also because after all it was nice to have her around. She's not very important to the story nor strong enough to face the Queen of Hearts, she's the only member (aside the White King and Rabbit) who doesn't give a headache to Peppino and she's also a very gentle emotional supporter.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Twin Suns

Bounty Hunter Boba Fett x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (MDNI): established relationship, breakup / makeup, suggestive themes, canon-typical swearing, mando’a

Word Count: 1.4k

You broke it off, but Boba isn’t finished.

ao3 // main masterlist // summer 2024 masterlist

Mando’a Translations: cyar’ika – darling / sweetheart

Hookah smoke hangs low in the air. The cantina is dim and the noise inside is a dull, persistent roar. Behind the bar, you clean glasses, gaze watching the room for thirsty customers. To the right of the bar is a small stage where a band plays music. It’s loud enough to drown out most of the conversations in the room but not enough to silence them.

It’s a stark difference from your previous work. Being a dancer in Jabba’s Palace brought you protection and money, but it also brought admirers. Most of them kept their distance due to Jabba’s presence, yet there was one you gravitated toward.

One you often snuck away with. One you gave your heart to.

Jabba the Hutt’s favorite contract killer, Boba Fett, ate you up like a Sarlacc. He slipped into your life and you gladly opened for him.

But all of that is gone. You left, and here you are, working away in a Mos Espa cantina, scrounging up enough credits to leave Tatooine behind you. It’s certainly not the life you want for yourself, but the best thing now is to earn enough to start fresh elsewhere.

Setting the glass in its proper spot, you turn, reaching for another. It draws your attention away from the bar, and when you glance up again, the glassware nearly slips from your hand.

A Mandalorian helmet with cracked and peeling green paint stares back. The rest of the armor is much of the same. It’s worn but no less intimidating. Boba Fett stands casually while the people next to him at the bar quickly grab their drinks and makes themselves scarce.

“I’ve been looking for you.” His familiar gravelly voice comes through the voice receiver, and it plunges directly into your heart.

“What makes you think I wanted to be looked for?” you reply, unease slipping into your tone.

You don’t hate Boba—far from it. Deep within your soul, you still care for him. When you’re alone in the dark, you often find yourself thinking of his touch and the way his lips felt against your skin.

But you ran away from everything for a reason. And still, this man came after you.

“You’ve always loved a chase, cyar’ika,” he answers with a gentle tease.

Memories resurface suddenly and without warning. Jabba’s smoky throne room where you’d dance for his guests. The saunter of Boba’s hips when he’d walk into the room and head right for you. The first time Boba touched you far from the eyes of Jabba and his cronies.

Boba chased you until you folded, placing yourself in his arms.

You swallow back a sharp retort, putting on your professional face, changing the subject. “Can I get you anything? A drink? Food?”

Boba’s helmeted head tilts slightly. “I want one thing.”

“I’m not on offer,” you reply immediately.

“Then can I have a few minutes of your time,” he counters. “Alone.”

Kriffing hell.

You glance over your shoulder at the other bartender. She nods subtly and you set down the glass and polishing towel.

“Come with me,” you murmur.

Boba pushes off from the bar and follows you. The two of you slip behind a curtain, entering a kitchen space. The three droid cooks don’t even acknowledge your presence. Stopping at some spiral stairs, you turn back toward Boba. He’s directly behind you, blocking your escape, gloved hands on either side of the railing.

“This way,” you breathe, ascending the stairs as quickly as possible.

You feel him at your back, his body so close you swear you can sense his heat. The stairs spit the two of you out on a little landing. Up here is mostly storage, and it’s a mess. The owner of the cantina insists he’ll clean it up but he’s never here enough to actually care or do anything about it.

As soon are your feet land on flat flooring, you beeline for the large window on the other side of the room. The twin suns are starting to descend, the evening coming quick, but still fending off the cold dark.

Staring out across Mos Espa is easier than looking at Boba directly.

“What do you want to talk about?” you speak to the window. In the glass, you notice Boba’s reflection. He’s moving toward you—a slow saunter.

Even though you cannot see him directly, you know he’s right there next to your left shoulder. Your chest is tight, stomach twisting, and your skin tingles with awareness. Beskar brushes against your arm, and then Boba’s gloved hand slips into your own.

You do not pull away. He is warm, and so close it aches.

“You were mine,” he says, and the possessiveness in his voice draws forth a shiver.

It’s a reminder of all the times the two of you were alone in bed together, with him buried between your legs, tangled up in white sheets while the rest of Tatooine slept. With every roll of his hips, and every languid kiss, he’d call you cyar’ika and whisper mine.

“I was,” you murmur. “Not anymore.”

Boba tugs on your hand. It’s a gentle pull but it forces you to turn into him. Boba is right there, head tilted toward your face as if to kiss you. His other hand comes up and rests against the side of your throat.

“You left without talking to me.” His grip tightens and your free hand reflexively rises, pressing against his beskar chestplate.

You lick your lips. “I needed to go. It wasn’t safe for me.”

Boba draws you close, foreheads nearly touching. “Did you not feel safe with me? Something I did?”

You shake your head. “No.” You glance into the T-shaped visor, only wanting to see those dark eyes again. “Can you remove your helmet?”

Boba drops his hand from your throat. Reaching up, he disengages the seal, and then the helmet is gone. Your eyes track tanned skin and dark eyes. Your hand on his chestplate ascends, fingertips brushing against the stubble on his chin and jaw.

Boba turns his head just as you’re about to run your fingers over his cheeks. You caress his lips instead, and they part slightly in invitation. It’s hard to resist, but you do.

Dropping your hand away, you look down at his chestplate.

“Being with you put a target on my back.”

“No one knew about us,” murmurs Boba. “And I would have handled it.”

You glance up. “Would you? I was under Jabba’s employ. I don’t think he’d appreciate one of his dancers fornicating with his prized bounty hunter.”

Boba grimaces. “You were an employee. Not one of his slaves.”

“That doesn’t matter to Jabba,” you insist. “Remember the guy who slapped my ass? Jabba took his kriffing hand. I don’t even want to think about what Jabba would do to you had he found out about us.”

“And you think you’re safe here?” Boba indicates the cantina with an outstretched hand.

“Bib Fortuna said I was clear. It’s the other bounty hunters I’m worried about. Your competition.”

Boba scoffs. “I’d vaporize them before they even tried to put their hands on you.”

You pull your hand from his and raise them up before you. “You can’t protect me, Boba. And I don’t want to burden you.”

Boba steps into your space, trapping you against the window. “But you still love me.”

“I never said I didn’t,” you reply softly.

With a low groan, Boba grasps the back of your neck and draws you in. His mouth crashes against yours, the two of you meeting again and again until you start to melt, wrapping your arms behind his neck, wanting him even closer.

“Why did you run?” he asks between kisses. You seek another but Boba’s grip on the back of your neck halts all forward movement. “We could have talked about this. You didn’t need to flee.”

“It was easier,” you breathe.

He shakes his head. “You’re leaving this place.”

“Boba,” you breathe.

“Hush,” he coos. “I’m taking you with me.”

“And go where?” you shrug.

“Somewhere safe,” he says softly. “We’ll go on my ship. And I’ll take you far from here.”

“But you can’t tell me where?”

Boba sighs. “I have a place I go to when I want to get away. I’ll take you there.”

“Jabba doesn’t need you?”

“If he needs me, Bib Fortuna will call. That’s how it’s always worked.”

You glance out the window. The suns have lowered, the sky a purplish-red. “When do you want to go?”

Boba draws you back to him, pressing a lovely kiss to your lips. “Right now.”

[kessellluvr]

|| ARCTOBER ᵈᵃʸ ²⁹ - ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ||ｓｅｖｉｋａ

Summary: Long nights in the club.. reader is a bartender, unspoken promises wafting through the air like magic everytime Sevika’s gaze met yours. You couldn’t quite tell what to make of that smirk she gave you every time you walked past, bent down to place her drink down infront of her - the way her eyes lingered on you for just a moment longer than they should.. welp, that night you were feeling risky, testing limits and pushing boundaries.

Warnings: NSFW/ MDNI ; r!recieving, mention of smoking, name- calling, fingering, edging, semi-rough handling, bruising/hickeys, hook-up

AN: This isnt proofread and i was in a rush to finish it so i apologise for any typos x

Purple neon lights lit up the club, the bass of the underground techno music blasting through the large crowd. The magenta-grey smoke of cigars and hookah’s filling up the clubber’s senses. It was full house tonight, people going in and out - swarming the dancefloor like a bunch of bees. The bar was stacked with lines of people, some sitting, others having sloppy-drunken makeouts and most just wanting to get more booze. Great, the bartenders nightmare.

A big guy, middle aged lady and a precious little thing serving drinks - that‘d be you. Right, innocent and easy-prey looking, but oh boy you got a mouth on you. Apron tied tight around your waist, shaping your figure perfectly, hair tied back in a mid-high ponytail, waterline painted black and lashes adorned by mascara. A whistle rung over the music, making you quickly spin your head to find Sevika shoving away some other people at the bar. "Whiskey, neat and hurry the fuck up, im in no mood." Sevika´s deep voice grumbled, giving you an expectant look. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head but you quickly prepared her drink - top shelf whiskey in her signature glass, yes, she had her own glass. You slid it across the counter "Wait in line next time, you aint the only one in here."

"Whatever." As she grabbed her glass and went back to the gambling table. And so, the night went on, people getting more drunk and reckless, the music blasting louder - every possible chance you got, you stole a glance at Sevika - the way she confidently carries herself, winning game after game with that fucking smug smirk on her dark, scarred lips, god you had to admit: she was sexy, despite being an asshole. Everytime your eyes met you felt a strange heat coursing through your every cell.. your breath hitching a little anytime the corners of her dark lips twitched up.

Silco and the other chem-barons had taken their seats at their table a few minutes ago and you were supposed to bring their drinks over, cause of course they get special treatment. You despised them, they stink with money and order their workers around like animals..ugh.

Nonetheless, you went ahead and poured their order, carefully placing the glasses on a tray and moving through the crowd swiftly - well, atleast until some drunken asshole overlooked you and stumbled right into you. Drinks spilling all over you white apron - soaking into the fabric and revealing a tantalising glimpse of your bra underneath. Your eye twitched in annoyance, temper flaring as you spat some curses at the drunkard. "Get this dickhead out of my face!" you snapped, looking expectantly towards the bouncers. Of course, your wish was their command and the drunk was dragged out immediately, spluttering out an apology.

Your co-worker quickly re-made the drinks while you were busy kneeling on the floor and wiping the mess. "Well well, looks like you had a little mishap there, hmm?" that smug voice echoed above you. You scoffed, straightening up and looking up at her, defiance gleaming in your crystal eyes. "I dont need your fucking bullshit, Sevika. Think your something better, huh?" you spat - making Vika´s brow arch up, eyes taking on that dangerous purple gleam. Her thick, long fingers came to grasp your chin tightly "I think someone needs to fuck that damn attitude outta ya." You couldnt deny the delicious sensation in your lower abdomen at her words, your lips parted as if to say something but nothing came out.

"Thought so." Vika says with another smirk, lifting you up and throwing you over her shoulder unexpectedly, you yelped. "Let me go!" but you didnt really mean that, you loved the way she had her hands around your waist and you both knew that. She carried you up the stairs not even bothering to tell you where she was heading - soon enough you found yourself being thrown on the couch in her office. Your eyes widened, breath quickening as you tried to keep your composure. “What the fuck?”

“What’dya think? I’ll help you out of that damn soaked shirt and make good of my promise.. unless you dont want me to.” There it was again, that self-confident smirk, your teeth came down on your lip - teeth digging into the soft flesh as you nodded slowly, thinking of a snarky reply. “Of course, you totally wanna help me change and not just get your hands on me.”

“Shut it.” Vika growled, grasping your hair surprisingly gentle and smashing her lips down on yours, slow at first, tounge probing at your lips before you opened them for her - tangling your tounges together in a twist as her large hand slid down your body, mapping out the curves and grasping every bit of flesh she could find. Squeezing, caressing..

A soft moan slipped from your lips, muffled by her mouth as she eagerly tugged your shirt over your head - pulling away to throw the shirt carelessly on the floor. Her hands came to swiftly undo your bra - letting it join your shirt on the floor. "Fuck, such gorgeous tits." Vika growled before latching onto one of your nipples, suckling and making them form into hard peaks. Whimpers mignled with the wet sounds of her sloppy sucking, her hand sliding down your pants and lightly rubbing over that wet spot in your panties - stealing another beautiful whimper from your lips.

"Sevika.. please.." as your hips bucked forward, making her press her fingers harder against you fabric-covered clit. She pulled her mouth from your tits and pushed you back against the desk, hand finally going beneath your panties and sliding over your slit to collect your wetness before rubbing it over your fattened clit. Your moans quickly filled her ears, a beautiful melody for her - her teeth grazing your neck before leaving sloppy kisses in the wake of her lips.

Your hips kept bucking, feeling youreself getting closer cause of her tight circles - suddenly, Sevika stopped, moving her fingers down and easily sliding them into your wetness, curling them upwards to hit that delicious spot deep within you. Your head fell back, exposing more of your vulnerable throat as she sucked hickeys while keeping her fingers in a steady motion.

"V-vika.. ´m close.." Was when she pulled out, smirking down at you. "I think you dont quite deserve cumming, fucking brat. Get back to word." as she spanked your ass playfully, you sulked and gave her puppy eyes. "Come back up here when youre done closing."

That made your eyes light up again, you nodded, getting dressed into the fresh shirt and leaving your ruined on right there on her office floor.. great, having to finish your shift with soaked panties was not how you wanted that night to go, but Sevika knew she was gonna give you a proper reward later.

kessellluvr 10/29/2024