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loveinhawkins · 10 months

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“Still super jealous as hell by the way,” Eddie says; Steve laughs, elbows him in the chest—disguising a want to touch by shoving him away.

There’s a brief flash of warmth against his skin before Eddie teeters back.

He stays close though, dances in and out of Steve’s space as they walk, almost close enough to…

“D’you know what’s adding an extra layer of, uh…” Eddie clicks his fingers then says with relish, “Of batshit insanity to everything?”

“No,” Steve says, and he feels a smile growing; he couldn’t fight it even if he tried. He doesn’t want to. “But I’m sure you’re gonna tell me.”

“My, uh. One of my favourite games as a kid was… uh well, it didn’t really have a name, it was more—”

“No jump rope for you?” Steve asks in mock surprise.

Eddie snorts. “Nah, nothing as normal as that, Harrington, honestly. Kid me was a visionary.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Steve says.

The words hover in the space between teasing and genuine; he means both, of course.

“At, um. When I was at my dad’s.”

Eddie’s smile flickers, and Steve tries to fill in the gaps: has vague memories of middle school halfway through one year, of murmured interest, you seen the new kid? He just moved here.

“Our place backed onto some woods, and I’d just… kinda wander.”

Eddie scoffs—his foot makes an aborted motion as he walks, like he’d gone to absentmindedly kick a twig and thought better of it.

Better safe than sorry, Steve thinks. Hive mind and all that.

“So your favourite game was wandering?” he prompts when Eddie goes quiet.

A tease again. Softer. Really means you can tell me. I want to know.

He wonders if Eddie can hear it.

“Well, when you put it like that, it sounds shit. And it was more, like, active up in…” Eddie taps his temple. “I’d just… uh. Pretend the woods were haunted, stuff like that.”

“Oh,” Steve says, amusement growing. “So all this,” he gestures to the vines and trees, to the fog creeping along the forest floor, “is real immersive for you, then. Got it.”

“Um, no,” Eddie says, and his voice is going up into that wobbly tone that only comes from suppressing genuine, ugly laughter. “The stuff in my head was gothic, Harrington. It had class.”

“God, man, I’m sorry. Is the alternate dimension not living up to your expectations?”

“I’m gonna make a complaint.”

“Yeah, do it in writing. Make it professional.”

“To whom it may concern,” Eddie starts, all comically snooty.

Steve laughs.

And Eddie’s up close again, grinning, and Steve presses the side of his forearm up against his chest; the moment lingers, until Eddie moves back, until Steve drops his arm a fraction too late.

“I’ve found the experience provided—”

Steve snorts. “Experience?”

“—thoroughly lacking in both atmosphere and charm. I expect appropriate compensation as soon as possible.”

“Tell you what,” Steve says, “show me a picture of your haunted woods when we’re outta here. I wanna see how they compare.”

“Um,” Eddie says through the tail end of a chuckle. He sounds embarrassed. “I don’t have… My dad, uh, he wasn’t exactly the kinda guy to take a lot of pictures, y’know?”

And Steve doesn’t know—or at least, he thinks he doesn’t.

What he does know is that in the back of a cabinet there’s an old baby book: he can tell exactly when his grandma first began to get sick—and when everything else went to shit—because the milestone entries stop a third of the way through.

He doesn’t mention it. He can’t find the words, not here, not now—even if he could, he’s worried it’d sound a clumsy, weak comparison at best, self-centred at worst.

So he waits. Feels when the abrupt silence becomes less heavy.

“Did you, like, do speeches to yourself in the game, too?”

Eddie gives him a sideways, bemused look. “Maybe.”

Steve pretends to mull it over. Nods. “Yeah, figures.”

A pause.

“Uh, hold on,” Eddie says, chuckling again, like he’s been surprised into it. “You can’t just leave it there, man, you—”

“Nah, it’s just.” Steve smothers a grin. “Just fits you, that’s all. Like, you would’ve dramatically narrated your own birth if you could, I know it.”

Eddie laughs hard; he nearly drops his flashlight.

“You’re funny,” he says eventually, still smiling.

“Oh, sorry,” Steve quips back, “was I not supposed to be? Ruined your doctrine again?”

“No, just—” Eddie laughs again. Sighs. “Just timing, man. Wish I was finding out in a more, uh, low stakes kinda way. Like…”

His eyes go a little far-off, and for a second Steve can see that kid in him, the one who kept himself company in his own imagination.

“Like we’re just walking past the lockers, or something.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, with probably more feeling than it strictly calls for. “Anything beats these goddamn vines.”

He could add that there is no ideal timing, really: that if there’s one thing he’s learned throughout all this, it’s that there’s hardly ever time to dwell on things. It’s more do or die.

Besides, he thinks, you could wait all your life for a perfect moment, and it still passes you—

The earth trembles.

Eddie sways; Steve lunges to the side so Eddie falls backwards, away from a nearby vine. He tries to plant his feet, realises he’s inevitably going down, too, and course corrects.

Falls.

Feels the rise and fall of Eddie’s chest against his hand.

“M’definitely filing that complaint,” Eddie says breathlessly.

He turns so he’s facing Steve. Stays close.

They’ve both dropped their flashlights. The effect is dazzling—Eddie’s face is illuminated, eyes bright.

No atmosphere, my ass, Steve thinks.

“You okay?” he murmurs.

“Y-yeah,” Eddie says—gasps, really. Steve feels how his breathing shakes.

There’s barely a disguise now; they’re both leaning in.

And for a moment, they’re not here at all; they’re just at school, hiding by the lockers.

Then again…

Maybe it could only happen here.

Maybe wandering—maybe everything—has been leading up to this: the moment before a chance taken.

#a mix between a missing scene & scene rewrite ❤️#the walk through the upside down woods #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #pre steddie

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trashart00 · 11 days

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Less than 12 hours until the release of “The Tortured Poets Department”!

Hence, I present to you, “The Tortured Catboy Department”

Track List:

SIDE A: Deux Semaines (feat Ladybug) / The Tortured Catboy Department / My Lady Abandons Only Her Favourite Partners / Down Bad

SIDE B: So Long, London / But Daddy I Love Her / Fresh Out the Slammer / Akuma !!! (feat Monarch)

SIDE C: Guilty As Sin? / Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me / Even Ladybug Can’t Fix This / loml

SIDE D: I Can Do It With a Broken Heart / The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived / The Cataclysm / Adrien Agreste

Bonus Tracks: The Black Cat / Solitude / Doppelgänger / Tell-Tail Heart

(Love how so many of the original track names still work)

My takes of what each song is about/inspired by under cut (but, if you feel like it, tell me yours :D)

I’m picturing all of these to be from Adrien’s perspective so they reflect mostly his version of the situations rather than the objective reality (especially the Laybug centered ones)

Deux Semaines (feat Ladybug): This one would focus on the sequence in Multiplication where Monarch doesn’t attack and how LadyNoir’s relationship recovers from the events of Season 4.

TTCD: Kept the “Catboy” singular because while there are multiple Catboy identities, there is only one boy underneath them all. Hence while I think it would be about him just stating his issues with everything, it would also focus on loneliness and how his department is understaffed :(

MLAOHFP: All of the Season 4 LadyNoir separation arc angst, with the “Favourite” being a callback to Risk (and kinda a jab at Rena because he thinks that she’s really her favourite, but y’ know, she didn’t abandon her so Rena can’t be her actual favourite)

Down Bad: Mainly about how Chat’s love for LB makes him excuse her behaviors, but also makes him act out (maybe a reference to Elation).

SL,L: About the whole arc of Gabriel sending Adrien to London and all of the memories he would have surrounding this ordeal - key point, not “So Long, Paris” because he didn’t want to leave, and in the end he comes back to a changed world.

BDILH: This one’s either about the Chat Blanc breakup or Gabriel’s dislike of Marinette in Season 5 (or both, with maybe a line about how he feels like this has happened before)

FOTS: Adrien realizing his father is a Bad Person.

Akuma !!! (feat Monarch): This one would be like a song about his daily life and then the chorus would start with a shout of “Akuma!!!” and it would switch to him as Chat Noir. I feel like it would start out with normal life being boring/hero life being fun but as it goes on he grows exhausted. Monarch has a rap verse.

Guilty As Sin?: Chat Blanc centeric - would ask who is to blame for the destruction of the world, like is it Chat because he lost control or Hawkmoth because he took advantage of his son’s emotion?

WAoLOM: Chat Blanc centric at first (like a villain song) but ends with Adrien reflecting on the events of Evolution-Destruction-Multiplication-PS night

ELCFT: I think it would be about his relaction ship with his father and how he wishes there was something he could do to go back to how they were when Emilie was alive but there’s no easy fix and his father keeps on getting worse and worse after any attempt.

loml: A song for Marinette with a bittersweet air - she’s the love of his life but he can’t tell her everything, and she can’t tell him everything either

ICDIWaBH: CatWalker centric - him going back to Ladybug in Kuroneko.

TSMWEL: I actually have three for this one - 1. About Gabriel and his need to domineer because he feels small and powerless. 2. About Adrien feeling small and insignificant. 3.About Plagg because he’s a smol boi (it would be like a lighthearted, cheeky song, like when you sing to your pet about how adorable they are)

The Cataclysm: Literally about how he cataclysmed Monarch, but also about how the event impacted his perception of self.

Adrien Agreste: Ending the album with a song that’s his own name :o.

Now for the variants:

The Black Cat: This one has Chat on the cover and the song is mostly about his bad luck. ‘I Love You It’s Ruining My Life” works both directed at Ladybug and his father.

Solitude: With Chat Blanc on the cover, this one’s about his mother. I think the “You Don’t Get To Tell Me About Sad” is pretty self-explanatory.

Doppelgänger: CatWalker is on this one, his song would be about how he may literally be the same person but he doesn’t fully feel like himself. He had to repress a lot of himself to be CatWalker hence I thought “Am I Allowed To Cry?” fit him really well (especially with Plagg not giving him the time to fully recover before he had to jump back in). Please note the crossed out name (unlike Chat Blanc) because he’s reinventing himself.

Tell-Tail Heart: This one has Ladybug on the cover - wait she’s not a Catboy?? The song is titled “Tell-Tail Heart” as a reference to Edgar Allan Poe’s “Tell Tale Heart” and would explore Chat’s perspective of Ladybug’s guilt for keeping secrets, how any excuse she makes is ultimately unimportant because she would do it either way. The fact that this is the only song title with a pun references how Chat tries to lighten the mood and avoid serious conversations, and the “Tail” is supposed to refer to Rena Rouge. The flowers she’s holding are meant to be foxgloves which symbolise secrets and insincerity (they’re also poisonous and damage the heart :)). I also really liked the “Old Habits Die Screaming” for her as it could mean both Chat Noir’s love for her being an old habit that he cannot get rid of, but also her habit of keeping things from him (especially with how she does it again at the end of season 5) being something she can’t stop. It is also him being able to see that, despite what she tells him, her “Heart” is tells him otherwise.

(also would like to point out that he wouldn’t mention Rena by name, he’s upset, not evil)

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #ml season 5 #adrien agreste #chat noir #chat blanc #cat walker #patte de velours #ml ladybug #taylor swift #the tortured poets department #ts ttpd #ml fanart #ok so at first I wanted to do these with maribug but then I started trying to come up with alternative names and it dawned on me #she’s still on the last cover though <3 #the tortured Catboy department #inspiration hit me like a truck like I can almost hear the songs

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belphegorey · 10 days

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⌜games, leviathan⌟ ⎯ the perfect game. he had truly found the perfect game. ⎯ fem!reader x leviathan ⎯ warnings include: pervy leviathan, tails, accidental voyeurism and exhibitionism

Who would have believed that they could make such a game? Leviathan was giddy in his seat as the game loaded up. Moans played through his headset and he tapped his finger anxiously on the mouse. It wasn’t the first time he had played a hentai game while everyone was asleep, far from it in fact, but it was different.

Those other games weren’t customisable.They had pretty characters, he had fallen victim numerous times to the charms, but in the new game he could make anyone he wanted. He could make you , his only true friend that Leviathan knew would never be more. You were always with his brothers instead.

The game began with your character, almost a picture perfect design of you (he did spend far too long making sure it was akin to you) moved through the dark castle. His character’s POV, a demon lord of warriors, watched as your breasts, barely hidden in the bikini top, bounced with each step.

“ Mighty Leviachan, ” you bowed before the throne, Levi whimpered at just how similar your voice sounded to your real one. He couldn’t believe he was able to customise your voice too! Like that human game you had told him about, just without the magic charms. The camera panned down as his character stood above you. You bit your lip and looked up at him from your bow, “ I apologise for the disruption. ”

Options appeared for him to choose between. Leviathan clicked on the first one, questioning why your character was interrupting him. It made the slight glow around you turn pink as you looked away from him. The view followed your eyes and he noticed the concubines surrounding his throne. All who wanted him — Leviachan.

But, they weren’t you. He wanted you. Needed you. Craved you. “ I was sent to offer you a gift, my Lord. It is a thank you from Henry for saving his life. ” Your eyes still focused on the concubines even as his character stepped toward you. The pink flashed purple and blue in envy, it made Leviathan’s cock twitch. Jealousy, his own sun, looked so perfect on you. His character lifted your chin and made you stand tall…

… You were smaller than him. So cute and tiny. Just like in reality. No dialogue options appeared and instead the automatic response played; “ What is my gift then ?”

The thin clothing you wore was shredded from your skin, leaving you nude before his very eyes. Your thighs pressed together and your arm went over your tits while the pink aura returned in vibrant effect. “ I am your gift, Master .” Leviathan’s character made your arms return to your side and allowed him the opportunity to ogle your tits. Just like your real ones. He closed his eyes and recalled the time you accidentally flashed him your whole body. A favourite memory of his. “ That is, if you would like me .”

More dialogue options appeared. If he was feeling patient, Leviathan would take the longer route by refusing the advances of your character. But, he was too excited, the tent in his sweatpants throbbed in eagerness. “ I see, ” Leviachan waved his hands and the throne room emptied of the concubines and servants. The power was explicating to him, Leviathan was sure he could become drunk off it (it must be how Lucifer felt, why couldn’t he command people the same way) but instead his character calmly went back to his throne and removed his clothing. Only briefly did the camera show the erection held by him, as it focused back on your nervous character, slowly walking toward his seat, “ then go ahead and prove yourself as a worthy present .”

“ Yes, Master .”

It cut away and jumped to you right before him. The tip of his cock was between your lips, and your tits rubbed against his length. The hands of Leviachan tapped on your hair with authority while Leviathan’s awkwardly fumbled to pull his cock from his pants. He was already leaking, and just the small touch of his fingers made him whimper. Your moans, muffled by the thick cock of the game, played in his ears and he couldn’t help but react to each noise.

It wasn’t bad if he already gave into the game, right? It was designed for this purpose, and it was you right in front of him. Leviathan groped at his desk for his fleshlight while keeping his eyes stuck on the screen. Sweat built on your forehead as you gagged on the cock. Options appeared for him again: Tease her. Choke her. Deepthroat her. He hastily clicked on the final one while teasing himself with the opening of his toy. So tight, Leviathan was sure you would be as well.

Leviachan’s hands on your head forced you lower on his cock, and you gasped against him. Your hands and tits fell from around him and instead moved between your thighs to play with your cunt. “ Master,” you moaned around him as your eyes fluttered shut. He could see the bulge of the cock in your throat rubbing against you while your saliva dropped against him. Each whimper and whine you made was loud for him, but Leviathan turned the volume up to its full effect as he bottomed out in the fleshlight. “ Please,”

His hips moved in the same rhythm as his character, bucking into the toy with a slowly increasing speed. Leviathan shut an eye while the other still watched the screen. He wanted to fuck your mouth, it was a carnal emotion in his veins that had him growling. Asmo probably had. Mammon definitely tried. All of them had you, but not him. He needed you. Leviathan felt his tail sprout from his backside as sharp fangs pierced his bottom lip. The tang of his blood was nothing beneath the sour taste of jealousy.

Leviachan came into your mouth, his hips in the air and hands holding your head still at his base. He could see the cum slide down your throat as your fingers worked feverishly at your clit. Slick desire pooled on the stone floor and at uk to your thighs. Leviathan needed you. He wanted to taste you and please you. He wanted to take you and use you just like Leviachan did.

“ Master, ” you rubbed your face against his creamy cock while your eyes sparkled up at the camera. Love drunk. You would never look at the real him that way, “ please let me continue. ” Leviathan did not hesitate as he clicked the continue button, squeezing the fleshlight around him with a hiss.

The screen cut away again, but only to reveal the arch of your body as you slowly slid down his erection. Your tits were right in front of the camera, though it panned down to admire how your cunt took him so greedily. Hands squeezed around your waist while Leviathan held the desk between his claws. His tail wrapped tight around his wrist while he abused the fleshlight around him.

Your moans were the ultimate soundtrack to his moment. Like when the hero reaches the peak of his adventure, your vocals grew in pitch as the character fucked you as hard as you deserve. His fangs were daggers on his lip and he attempted to silence every moan Leviathan wanted to make.

Close. He was close. He focused on how your body bounced on him as he thrusted into the fleshlight with desperation. You would take it, he knew you would let him cum inside you and beg for more. Good human. His good human. Only his.

Leviathan’s eyes closed even as the shadows around his blue-lit room bent around a silhouette. He didn’t care, he was so close to the edge, Leviathan needed his release. Your face was dropped in awe at the cock inside you, little drops of drool building in the corner of your mouth between each moan of ecstasy. Perfect expression, the perfect human — he could imagine your sweet gaze watching him as he came in you.

But, just at the edge of release, his headphones were pulled from his head and fell around his neck. Leviathan turned around with a flush, ready to be chastised by Lucifer for playing such games with your likeness… only it was far worse. You, the real you; right before his envious eyes.

Your mouth was open wide in shock, as you flittered around to try and focus on something. There was so much evidence condemning him. He wanted to crawl into his fish tank and hide from the world. It was one thing to be caught playing such a game, but one where he purposely made the character look like you, isolation was the only option. You glanced between the screen illuminating the game version of you mewling for more cock, the fleshlight stuck on Leviathan’s cock, and at his neck were the moans were loudly playing for you both to hear.

In your hand held your D.D.D, his contact open to an ongoing phone call. Phone call. Phone call? Leviathan rushed to cover himself with his pants while searching for his own D.D.D. It was behind his monitor, which he hastily switched off to prevent further shame, but his cheeks were red enough as he discovered the screen. A minute long phone call, one he didn’t recall starting. Was it Karusu? Did the bastard bird hear his moans and take it for him needing to call you.

“I thought…” he looked back at you with wide eyes, shuffling his thighs to hide the erection and toy beneath his sweatpants. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish from your shock, still looking around the room for something to focus on. Leviathan attempted to remain strong, but he couldn’t help the glance at your chest. Blue decorated your body in the most revealing way possible, courtesy of Asmodeus, and your nipples poked through the satin. The nightgown barely hid your ass, he clenched his fingers to a fist to avoid desperately flicking it up. “I though you were in trouble…”

His voice cracked, “Nope!” His body was shaking from the nerves in his mind. You were going to hate him. Probably forever. And Leviathan couldn’t blame you for that. How mortifying for him and demeaning for you. All he could hope was that you were insulted that he used your image for a hentai game. “I’m fine! You can go back to sleep now!”

“That was me,” your finger shook in the air as you pointed at the now empty monitor. Your jaw was still slack while your eyebrows remained high on your forehead in shock, “I was… how?!”

He could visualise the dialog options before him. Leviathan stuttered over his words as he decided which sentence to choose, but he had no idea of what would result in the least amount of damage! There was no guide, no promise of your relationship ending well, he was nervous. “Was it?”

Playing dumb was the worst decision. Leviathan knew it as soon as the minimal words fell from his lips. Your eyes looked aflame as you stared down at him, he felt his tail coil around his waist as he shrunk inward. “Yes,” you leaned in and turned his monitor back on. The game hadn’t paused, the graphics of you, the character he designed, continued to moan over the demon cock snug inside, “that is me! Levi, what the fuck?”

“I’m so sorry!” He whimpered into his hands, covering his flushed face and avoiding your surely disgusted expression. “I just… I really like you but I’m always so scared to say anything and I get so pent up by it. I wasn’t going to make you, really! but I just thought about how beautiful you are and then you were there. Please don’t hate me, I need you in my life! Please!”

He heard the click of his monitor again, and Leviathan was sure the room had plunged into the darkness (only a deep blue glow from his LED lights that he refused to turn off) once more. You sighed and he sobbed into his palms yet again, he knew you were going to hate him. You would tell everyone what a filthy pervert he is and Leviathan would never be able to leave his room again.

Why were you still standing there? Leviathan wanted to cry and go silk into his bathtub for the better half of a century but you still stood right in front of him. Not even moving. Did you know it was torturing him? “Levi,” your soft hands traced his hands and slowly pulled them from his face. All he could muster was a pout as he watched you smile at him. Smile? Why were you smiling? “I could never hate you. Especially over something like this. There’s no harm,”

“Really?” Because only Leviathan could have such amazing timing, his cock throbbed beneath the material of his sweatpants. He was still on the edge. Your touch on his skin had only reminded him of such. He could see your cleavage pour from the satin nightgown and his fangs sunk into his lip again. “Promise?”

You nodded and leaned in closer, making Leviathan lean back in reflex. He was confused — what were you doing? Teasing him? Torturing him? Did he even care; your body sat atop him in the chair, crotch right on top of his throbbing erection. You had to be able to feel him, and the fleshlight, but there was no comment. “I promise,”

Leviathan gripped the armrests of his chair with wide eyes. He couldn’t move. One move and he would end up spilling all over himself and embarrassing himself even more. Your fingers danced against his cheek and teased the bottom of his lips, taping his sharp fangs. “Then…” you rolled your hips softly. He thought it was an accident at first, but your sultry smile made him moan quietly. You knew what you were doing. But, “why?”

You tutted your tongue and leaned closer. He could smell you so perfectly, sweet honey that he wished to taste along his tongue. Your hand tapped at his tail and he unfurled it for you without question — but, he felt himself choke as you guided the tip of his tail to your slick cunt.

Wet. You were wet. Because of… him? That couldn’t be so, yeah, it had to be because you had been with Beel or something. But, you were showing him and making him feel how slippery you were. On purpose! “I need you to help me out, Leviachan,” you purred the words as you sucked in the tip of his tail. So tight. He groaned into clenched teeth as your cunt greedily pulled his tail further in, warm muscle throbbing around him. His cock weeped in his pants in envy of his own tail, but the rocking of your hips are aided in the jealousy. “Think you can manage?”

He nodded dumbly. No words could be formed as he pushed his tail further inside of you. Your body shuddered in glee as you formed a beautiful smile for him. For Leviathan! No separation caused by it being augmented. This was real. You were real. You were on top of him and fucking yourself on his tail.

Your nails dug into his shoulder as you whimpered for him. Leviathan couldn’t help himself from thrusting upward, pushing his hard cock against you and making you gasp in glee. “Oh, Levi,” you mewled so loud he hoped that everyone could hear that it was his name on your lips. Your head fell back and your tits moved closer to his face. He couldn’t help himself. Leviathan pushed closer and hesitantly kissed the skin of your breasts, his fangs grazing along them, “Feels so good!”

He felt like a dog getting ear scratches at your praise. The goofiest of proud grind found its way to his lips as he moved your closer to him, sucking and biting your tits all he desired. His hands, tight on your hips, forced you to grind along his dick and made you bounce on his tail. Your moans were far better than the games. They were in his ears, around his room — and all for him. The real him.

Your cunt tightened around his tail and Leviathan pushed further, forcing himself in and out at a speed faster than his mind could cope with. So long. He had desired you so long. Your noises of pleasure raised an octave as you visibly grew tipsier for his touch. Leviathan himself felt the same, he was so close to messing himself up with cum, and the self control he held was slipping.

“Fuck,” he whined into your skin with a shiver as your hips continued to grind along his lap. The control of his tail was getting sloppy as his mind melted to ecstasy, “gonna… oh fuck fuck, fuck!”

His orgasm exploded into the forgotten fleshlight and along his sweatpants, sticking to his thighs and parts of his stomach. Your giggle was harmonious as you continued to greedily take his tail for your pleasure. “You have… the cutest orgasm face…” your breathing was ragged as you attempted to regain control of your voice. Each second caused more whimpers to leave you, and your nails caused little bruises to already show on his pale skin, “wanna see it more.”

Leviathan would happily let you. He would do anything for you. Anything. Everything. Your word was his law and he happily followed each rule. “Need to see you first,” he finally found his voice, though rough and quiet there was a foreign command to it that Leviathan had never felt before. His hold on your hips tightened as he pulled your body harder against his lap, only making his tail push further inside of you, “please, need you to cum for me. All over my tail. Gonna make you suck it clean while I finally taste you myself.” He pushed you against his desk as he stood up. Just like in the game, you were smaller than him. Your eyes were wide with playful innocence though it broke with your moan at his roughhousing. “All mine. Finally all mine.”

“All yours, Levi,” you kissed him for the first time as you came on his tail, your body shaking in his arms.

#obey me #obey me leviathan #omswd #omswd leviathan #om! leviathan #om! shall we date #leviathan #leviathan smut #obey me smut #obey me shall we date smut #obey me shall we date #om! shall we date smut #obey me! smut #⌜writing⌟

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whimsicalwritingsandmore · 5 months

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Want You Back | ateez x reader

Pairing: werewolf!ot8!ateez x werewolf!reader

Genre: fluff mostly, romance, poly, a little angst?

Warnings: mention of being depressed

Word Count: 1537 words

a/n: hello! welcome to the first chapter of my new story! I hope you enjoy it, and I would love your feedback especially when it comes to structure and flow of the story. I'm still getting the hang of tumblr again, so if you'd like to be a part of a taglist, please leave a comment under this post! :)

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Chapter 1

How did it end up like this?

This question never left your mind as you stared out at the forest trees in your backyard from your balcony, arms folded with a blank facial expression as the cool wind blew by and the beautiful moon shone in all its brilliance and wonder over you.

Luna meant moon. And it also meant the alpha female of the pack with your mate, this being determined by the Moon Goddess herself. Luckily for you, you had eight mates. Being a Luna meant one thing and one thing only. You were just a partner to your mate. You were to produce your mate or mates’ offspring and most of your education was dedicated to learning how to be a good mate. You never learnt anything outside of that.

And you hated it.

You loved your mates through and through. You loved the way Hongjoong would nestle into your arms and nuzzle into your neck when no one was watching, because he wasn't the biggest fan of public displays of affection. You were enamoured with Seonghwa - every time the both of you would cook meals together and his not so subtle way of making you blush.

Yunho was the most endearing one you had met, he wasn't afraid to show his affection for you, and would grab and spin you around and then look you in the eyes with the warmest and sweetest smile as if you held the entire galaxy in your eyes. Meanwhile, Yeosang was the opposite, he was much more shy than Yunho but he never steered away from showing you how much you meant to him. The both of you would find a book to read together and would place yourselves in the little corner of his window with your head in his lap and him mindlessly playing with your hair while you both read for hours upon end.

San loved adventures and sharing them with you. He would always take you with him wherever he went and together, you would create endless memories of the day and take endless pictures with an old film camera for your album. Mingi liked playing games so you two would play board games and sometimes even make up your own games which was a special thing just for the two of you. Only the two of you knew the rules.

Like Seonghwa, Wooyoung loved to cook with you. He wouldn't shy away from giving you a big kiss on the cheek or lips and wouldn't hesitate to create a little chaos so you would chase him and he could scoop you up and kiss you again.

Jongho loved the little moments with you. When the two of you would just watch tv or even do laundry together. He liked just being with you. His favourite memory being the time you nearly fought an aunty at the laundromat for the basket and sat inside of it refusing to budge. He laughed endlessly that day as he watched you place yourself with your hair falling in front of your face and a determined look plastered.

These 8 boys meant the world to you. But with time comes growing up and growing up means taking up responsibility. They were in charge of leading the pack, taking control and handling all the affairs. And with time, things had changed.

You hardly saw them anymore even though you all lived together. And with time, you started to realise how lost you felt. You didn't know what to do with yourself. You tried cooking and baking to pass the time, but what fun was it when you didn't have anyone to share the food with? The boys were gone for long periods of time, sitting in meetings, negotiating pack deals and handling personal issues within the pack. They weren't there like they used to be and suddenly, it seemed like they just expected that you would be there for them. They started to take you for granted, and it hurt. It hurt a lot.

At first you tried to rationalise it. They were busy taking care of the pack. But then, Hongjoong's mom, who never hid her dislike for you, introduced the pack to a new member who she hoped would take your place. Lila was the only other girl the boys knew besides you and their siblings. And in their mind, it was nice to have a new friend, especially someone who came from a different pack from another part of the realm.

But they didn't realise they were neglecting you. And slowly, as you saw the way they strayed away from you and Hongjoong's mom constantly berating everything you did, you became depressed and struggled to do anything. The boys noticed but still didn't realise it for what it was.

"It's okay to take time but you can't be lazy."

"It's just a phase."

"You should dress up more like Lila."

You were tired, beyond tired and drained. Nights consisted of you being unable to fall asleep until 1AM, and mornings consisted of waking up at the crack of dawn with all the hurt and pain rushing back in as you came back to reality. All you wanted was to feel like yourself again. You wanted the pain you felt to stop. You wanted the tears that flowed every night like a rushing stream as you muffled yourself into your pillow to stop. You wanted to feel like you again.

Hongjoong's father was aware of his wife's motives and chastised and begged her to stop. But she ignored him and continued to attack you. He decided you needed a space for yourself until he could talk to his son. He would've done it already if the stupid rogue pack would stop threatening to wage war.

So he told you about the secret lake and the Moon Goddess temple. Werewolf history prophesied that the lake was where wishes came true and the one with a pure heart and soul could see the Moon Goddess herself if they were truly devoted. In addition, some lore claimed that the lake was a portal to the human realm. Since 1998, all of the realms had been closed off to the human realm after the great siege, and no one had been to the human realm since.

And that's where you spent your time. You befriended the forest animals, you made flower crowns, prayed in the temple seeking for solace from your harsh reality and tried to keep yourself busy for the day.

No one knew of this and Hongjoong's mom tried to insinuate you were seeing someone. But his father immediately put a stop to it, saying that he had you helping out with the young pups on the other side of town.

All fared well for the most part. You still weren't okay but you had a safe space.

And then it all went down.

You were snapped out of your thoughts. A loud bang pierced through the entire mansion with shrill screams and shouts.

The rogue werewolf clan attacked that night.

Everyone screamed and scrambled as fast as they could have. They pushed and rushed for safety as wails pierced through the air. The boys were on the other side of the town and in the large mansion were only you, the boys' families and some members of the pack and the mansion’s workers.

You raced out of the room hoping to find someone, but ran into one of the rogues with a sickening and sinister smile on his face. You could fight but you weren’t sure if you could take him especially with that giant axe in his hand. Before you could react, a loud clang rang through the room and the rogue fell to the ground groaning in pain as blood began to leak out from the back of his head. In place of him stood your dear friend Cleo, daughter of one of the maids. She breathed heavily, still coming to terms with what she just did.

“Cleo! That was amazing!”

“Yeah…hah, didn’t know I had that in me.”

As another loud bang was heard, you both snapped out of your thoughts and began to search for a way out. Suddenly, you remembered the secret passage in the library. Both you and Cleo scampered as fast as you could, tripping on your own feet as adrenaline rushed through you and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. Finally arriving at the library, you slammed the door and began to find the book that would get you out of here.

You had barely escaped that night. You ran to the lake, stumbling and pushing the fear down your chest. You and Cleo both split up deciding that was the best idea at the moment. In the clearing, you looked around hoping to feel safe. But you could hear the evil snarls and growls approaching you. You didn't know what to do and looked towards the temple, a small prayer on your tongue.

After that, only one thing came to mind, you hoped those swimming classes would pay off now. You jumped in the lake. As you opened your eyes under the water, there was not much you could see except…a white glow. It gave off a safe vibration, you felt drawn to it.

As you tried to swim towards it, your vision started to become hazy.

And then, it all went dark.

#ot8 ateez x reader #poly ateez x reader #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez fanfic #ateez series #poly!ateez

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dixons-sunshine · 23 days

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Through The Good Times And The Bad | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

Summary: Of everything Daryl wanted to do with you, fighting certainly wasn't on that list. However, in every relationship, there was bound to be disagreements, but Daryl didn't know if you'd forgive him for what he had said. It took one night for him to realise that you weren't going anywhere.

Genre: Angst to fluff.

Era: Pre outbreak.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams universe.

Warnings: Like one swear word, self deprecating thoughts.

Word count: 1.1k

A/n: Here's this short fic to make up in advance for the few days that it's gonna take me to write the fic that won the poll. Not gonna reveal too much about it, but it's called "I Never Lived For The Applause". I'll let your minds run wild with that.

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.

—

Stupid. That's what Daryl Dixon thought of himself. What he'd been thinking of himself for a whole week at that point. Stupid for lashing out at you. Stupid for what he called you. Stupid for not approaching you for an entire week. Stupid for not falling to his knees and apologising, begging for your forgiveness.

Sleep eluded him completely that night. How could he let that happen? How could he ruin the one good thing in his life? You'd been there for him since you moved to the trailer park when you were both merely twelve years old. You were his best friend, now his girlfriend, and he'd seemingly messed it all up in a matter of minutes.

Looking back, Daryl knew that he had been in the wrong. You were simply trying to help him, to reassure him that he didn't need his brother's approval, and he'd lashed out at you. He'd said some nasty things that someone as sweet and caring as you didn't deserve, all because you told him that he didn't have to help Merle with some stupid drug deal. He had seemingly damaged your relationship, in the end only to tell Merle no anyway.

Daryl scoffed to himself and turned over, wincing at the friction it caused on his freshly wounded side. His father had been relentless the past few days, bestowing beatings on him whenever he laid his eyes on his youngest son. Daryl had grown accustomed to sneaking out to your trailer when things got too bad to handle on his own, but now he didn't know if he was allowed to. He didn't know if you'd tell him to go to hell, and he wouldn't have blamed you if you did. You had every reason to hate him.

Frustrated by the inability to fall asleep, Daryl sat up in his bed. His body screamed in protest at his movements, the beating from only a few hours prior taking its painful root in his body. Trying to ignore the pain, he reached into his nightstand to grab a few painkillers you'd bought for him to help him when you couldn't. However, as his hands fell upon the bottle, his eyes caught sight of a Polaroid picture. It was a picture you had taken of the two of you a month prior. The picture was ridiculous; you had somehow convinced him to wear a facemask with you and had him pose with you for a photo. Despite the fact that he was against the idea initially, it definitely was one of his favourite memories with you. He loved you, and he didn't ever want to lose you.

Before the thought could fully register in his mind, Daryl was climbing out of his window and sneaking away from his trailer towards yours. He didn't know if you were still awake or if you'd even want to see him, but he needed to see you. He needed to apologise to you, even if you hated him. At least he would have gotten it off his chest.

In a matter of moments, he was standing outside your window. He hesitated for a moment, flashes of your argument a week prior flooding his mind. However, he shook the thoughts from his head and knocked on your window. Almost immediately, your lamp flickered on and your footsteps could be heard approaching the window.

Your window opened and without hesitation or demanding an explanation, you extended a hand to Daryl to help him climb in to your room. Once inside, he turned to you, ready to apologise, but you cut him off by bringing him into a comforting hug. You nuzzled your face into his chest, letting out a deep sigh. Daryl was caught off guard for a moment, but he wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head before resting his chin there.

A minute of silence passed between the two of you. You simply stood there in each other's arms, basking in the comfort the hug brought the both of you. However, Daryl soon broke the silence, guilt and regret gnawing at his insides.

“M'sorry fer wha' I said. Fer lashin' out at ya,” he mumbled into your hair, closing his eyes when he felt you press a kiss against his clothed chest. “Please know tha' I didn't mean tha'. Not a single thing. Yer perfect to me.”

“It's okay,” you reassured him, pulling back slightly to gaze into the beautiful blues of his eyes. “You were just mad at your brother. I don't blame you at all.”

Daryl shook his head. “Ya should. I never shoulda said tha' in the first place. I wouldn't blame ya if ya hated me.”

“Daryl Dixon, you listen to me right now,” you started sternly, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. “One little fight isn't going to scare me off. When I agreed to be your girlfriend, I didn't just sign up for the good times. I'll be here through the bad times as well. Nothing will ever change that. You're gonna have to do more than cuss me out for me to run for the hills.”

Daryl stared into your eyes for a moment, a small smile gracing his features. He nodded slowly, subconsciously leaning into your soft touch. “I love ya,” he whispered.

You smiled up at him before giving him a small kiss. When you pulled back, you rubbed his cheek with your thumb. “I love you too, you hard ass. Through thick and thin,” you assured him, before grabbing his hand and leading him over to your bed. “Now sit down while I go grab the first aid kit. By the way, you're staying over tonight. I'm not letting you go now.”

Daryl didn't mind the sound of that at all. In no time at all, you had cleaned his wounds, turned of the light and ushered him into bed. You had brought his head down to rest on your chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. You played with his hair, placing a tender kiss on his forehead, lulling him into sleep.

And for the first time that week, Daryl fell asleep without being plagued by nightmares of losing you.

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #the walking dead #daryl x reader #twd daryl #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader #young!daryl dixon #young daryl dixon #young!daryl

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co-reborn · 8 months

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[PPV] BG SEX PERFECT PINK HAIR KOREAN COLLEGE GIRL RIDES AND GETS CREAMPIED - Full Ver ($30).mp4

Jiheon x Male Reader

view in AFF

3,013 Words

A/N: Huge thanks to @worldsover for allowing me to write a sequel to his fic BarelyLegalGirls and editing this fic as well. Go check out the original fic, it's my favourite fic of his.

Day in, day out, the job of being the penis for the camera drained you—no, not like that. Well, yes, like that. But also, it is repetitive. Being a porn star isn't that different from your last job, carrying heavy boxes to and fro: blinding fluorescent lights, annoying noises, people bossing you around. Worthless exhaustion, and you're probably going to be replaced by a robot. Everyone was boring or vapid or aggravating, so few people at your job stood out.

You get a DM from one of the few.

"hii, it's ur favorite ice cream model"

The unexpected message comes with a selfie, and you look at it with disbelief.

The pink hair. The blinding smile. Memories all come flowing back into your head—memories of her sweet voice, memories of her curves, memories of her tight pussy. A woman so uniquely gorgeous yet filthy, you never thought you'd see her again.

"come over… i need some help pls??"

The message followed by an address.

You're staring at her picture in disbelief, but eventually you reply.

"hey, it's you. what do you need?"

"just come! i'll tell you when ur here"

~~~~~~

Though your feet carry you down the corridor of this apartment building, you still have your doubts. Solicitations from strangers you've fucked once, these sorts of messages are nothing new at all with your line of work—what's new is that you've followed through, finding yourself in front of a door. You give it a few knocks. Listen closely, the sounds of furniture being dragged around. For all you know, she just wanted your help moving a sofa. That would've been fine with you.

Instead, when the door swings open, you don't even have time to react as a pair of arms wraps around your neck, and a pair of lips lays on yours, tasting so sweet.

Instincts kick in, with your hands finding their natural place on the girl’s waist. Her tongue wraps around yours and the kiss deepens, lips mashing and her hips grinding into yours. She hasn't even closed the door yet, and already, she's endeavouring to deprive you of oxygen. A dizzying haze consumes you as her fingers curl on your back. You hear rattling behind you—the elevator, footsteps—and you snap out of your lustful trance. Grab the girl’s shoulders, push her away, and close the door.

In awe, you stare at Baek Jiheon, then clear your throat. "Not even a hello?"

She cheekily smiles at you before pulling you into the cramped space of her home. Jiheon kisses you on the cheek. "Hi, Oppa. Make yourself comfy."

You look around the room, with the bed next to the couch next to the kitchenette. Getting comfy is a bit of a tricky task. Next to the bed is a cheap tripod to hold her iPhone, a ring light to illuminate the corner, and a microphone neatly hidden out of view.

So she took your advice to heart, and in a way, your doubts are all but confirmed. However, when you ask “So what, you need a cameraman?”, it's more flirtatious than apprehensive. Only one person could convince you to switch career prospects on the spot.

Jiheon moves you behind the tiny desk. “And a partner too.”

Exactly what you expected, and not at all simultaneously. Your heart skips a beat; the throbbing is in your pants instead. There's no script for you to follow, so you find yourself silent and still.

“A dildo can’t fill me with cum. Besides, they say you never forget your first love, right?” Jiheon tiptoes and whispers into your ear. “And I love your dick too much to ever forget it, Daddy.”

The urge skyrockets, to slam her against the wall and take her there and then. You’re powerless when her fingers dance on your chest before she pushes you to sit on the couch. She hands you the phone, and you're bumbling with it; you even drop it once like you're a damn amateur. But you're willing to surrender whatever degree it took to make you a professional sexpert if it means another round with Jiheon.

While Jiheon shuffles to find the perfect position on her bed, you play around with the phone’s camera. She finally settles on kneeling, then she gives you a thumbs up. You click the record button.

Her playful demeanour instantly disappears, her mouth curling into a devilish smirk. Hands roam across the curves of her chest and her head tilts back as she’s completely absorbed in the moment. How is she so good at this? You, the porn star, are the last person to feel the urge to search porn, but you looked for Jiheon, many many times, and never found anything other than that single scene you shot with her. You've never met anyone so naturally gifted at the art of seduction.

Digging her knees into the soft mattress and looking at the camera—or is she looking at you?—Jiheon toys with the hem of the black shirt. Lifting it just enough to give a peek of her toned tummy, she covers it mere seconds later. You don’t even notice the build up of saliva in your mouth until now. Jiheon continues teasing the audience a few more times, toying with her shorts, gyrating her hips, before she finally pulls her shirt all the way up and over her. The top is put aside while she hastily reaches behind her back to undo her bra.

With that out of the way, she pushes her tits together, pouting like some cute innocent girl. You want to reach out, interrupt the scene, and get those pink nipples between your fingers or your lips. Your eyes roam her figure as you recollect the softness of her perky little breasts.

However, the view doesn’t last long. Jiheon unbuttons her shorts and turns away from the camera, then she bends over and pulls the shorts down to her knees. Temptation grows at the hint of her curves. Your mouth waters more. The bright pink panties are next to go, as she wiggles her butt while pulling the underwear agonisingly slowly, until finally revealing her perfectly photogenic and perky ass. It's a pretty painting, her bare back, her ass squished against her calves as she kneels, the soles of her feet and her wiggling toes. Most of important of all, she looks back at you, pure lust in her eyes, impossible for anyone breathing to deny.

She points to the tripod, then gives you a come-hither gesture of her fingers.

You set the phone in its place, hurriedly strip yourself naked, and then you damn near leap at the bed. Jiheon giggles as she pushes you down onto the mattress. Her hands grip your shoulders as she positions herself hovering over you, her knees at the sides of your waist. You would be content with drowning in her fiery gaze but she looks over her shoulder instead. From the side of her face, you see her smile into the camera before slowly lowering into your lap.

Not hesitating to mask your enjoyment, you groan when Jiheon’s ass presses down and grinds on your cock. Her pussy's not hiding anything either, making your shaft slick. Her hips move back and forth, and already Jiheon's lips are contorting in need. Wanting more, she leans over to make out with you, her tongue always so enthusiastic to toy with yours.

Your hands are all over her back, gripping at her sides. As your fingers dig in, she grinds hard on you, like she's trying her best to get her dick inside her now. In failing, she just gets you all covered in juices—there might even be a pool of it on her bed now. You’re rock hard and trapped, physically by Jiheon’s curvaceous body and the bed, mentally by your ever-growing need of indulging in her. You're trapped, but you have no intention to escape. What has this young woman done to you? Perhaps you haven’t fully recovered from the first time you met her, judging by the repeated private viewings of her debut film.

When your mouths eventually disconnect, she whispers, “I need you in me now, Daddy.”

Reacting immediately, you lift Jiheon off your lap, aim your cock at her pussy, and sink her back down. Even at your own impetus, you gasp at the sudden rush of pleasure, the exhilaration; Jiheon is much less quiet, throwing her head back to let out a loud moan. She’s so fucking wet, maybe even wetter than the previous time. There’s no director and crew around to distract her and dictate her every action. Her focus is completely on you and your cock. You made her this wet.

You love every detail, the shake of her legs, the writhing of her waist, the little whimpers as your cock fills her and she takes a second to adjust to the pleasure. She then begins to ride you, making a wet mess on your crotch, and now you're sure about the pool with the stain on her sheets. You gently hold her, a hand on her slim waist and another on her thick thigh, while she sets into a comfortable rhythm. Not long after, the room is filled with faint sounds of wet flesh slapping against each other as well as your moans, growing from soft and reserved, to all-out declarations of bliss.

Deciding to give into your urges, your hand on her waist reaches to her immaculate butt to cop a feel, squeezing to appreciate its softness while enjoying her breasts meshing against your chest.

Her pussy wraps your cock so lovingly, so needy, that you already feel a heady rush. With this small confined space and the stationary camera, you don’t have the luxury to change positions often, a common tactic to last long. You try to find ways to distract yourself. You think about what to eat afterwards, but nothing comes to mind except for Jiheon, a meal you want to completely devour. As she continues her passionate cowgirl bouncing, she brushes back her hair and holds it in a ponytail, and you find an opportunity. Sit up. Your lips lightly mark her neck, leaving both sides a little pinkish, before you move further down. You kiss her breasts several times and then take her nipple into your mouth. Sucking on them like your life depends on it, Jiheon hugs your head closer to her chest and cries even louder.

Whines and mewls intersperse her words as she says,“You like me, don’t you? You didn’t hesitate to come over when I texted you. Fuck, you wanted to fuck me again so bad, right?”

You don’t answer, instead choosing to bury your face deeper into her chest, while burying your cock deeper into her pussy. You and Jiheon both know the unspoken truth.

“Well, I’m yours today." She's breathing heavily, nearly gasping for air, with her mouth open and her tongue out. "I’m your fucking toy. Use me however you want.”

Quickly making up your mind, you give her ass a loud, forceful smack, and she yelps. “I want to fuck you from behind, Jiheon," you say. "Need to watch that ass.”

Jiheon dismounts from your lap, though the temporary loss of her pussy around your cock earns a grunt from you. You step to the side of the bed while she gets on all fours, wiggling her ass for the camera, fixing her bangs, no doubt smirking. You need to show some semblance of control, to show that your mind hasn’t fully yet, so you press your tip against her wet slit and tease her by sliding up and down. For added measure, you reach down and rub at her clit.

Your stratagem works. Too well. She pushes her ass back instinctually, and once her snug walls tightening around your cock once again, you lose it all. You thrust forward, slamming into her, and you're already grabbing her hair as she rocks her body in tandem with yours. Every motion perfectly compliments you as you find yourself buried hilt deep in her. Knowing little else about Jiheon, you're sure that she does nothing halfway.

Even while drowning in her lustful desires, Jiheon still holds some awareness for her surroundings. She turns her head to the side, her half lid eyes staring into the camera as the stream of moans does not show any sign of stopping. You, on the other hand, are absorbed in the moment, hyper focused on Jiheon’s body. Her ass and thighs tremble at your relentless pounding, her back beads with sweat, and above all else, the plush walls of her cunt embrace your shaft so totally that you forget you're filming.

Utterly in the moment, you fuck her harder and faster. You're pulling her hair back now, making her look up and at you, and you're squeezing her ass—god, you’re never going to have your fill watching that ass. Slap it, make it ripple even more. Jiheon’s cries grow louder, and her pussy becomes wetter. She is getting exactly what she wants—to be used like a fucktoy—and she absolutely loves it. Her position on all fours falters, her arms losing strength, so she ends up with her face down into the mattress. Even with the average quality of the phone camera, you know this stunning silhouette of Jiheon bent over would make a perfect thumbnail.

While you maintain your grip on her waist, your other hand pulls her right arm and lifts her head off the bed. You catch sight of her cock-addled expression—her cheeks are flushed, her tongue is sticking out, her eyes almost fully rolled back. With this pace of pumping your cock into her young and tight body, her adorable breasts bounce up and down.

Minutes or hours go by as you continue relishing in Jiheon’s body. Yet, all good things must come to an end. The streak of moans stops and Jiheon tries to form coherent words. “C-cum. Need to, I need to…”

Immediately, you withdraw from her pussy and flip her onto her back. You then fold her body into half, her legs pressed tightly against her chest. Staring intensely into her eyes, you resume fucking Jiheon with the intent of finishing her orgasm. Right now, it’s just you and her. Forget about the camera. Forget about recording a good clip for her. Your cock is wholly impaling her, and you sense the clenches of her cunt.

“I’m, I’m cumming. Fuck!”

Jiheon tosses her head back, her mouth left hanging open as she basks in the pleasure of her orgasm and your still pistoning cock. She shudders and squirms, her cunt making a creamy mess of your shaft. The sheer tightness and wetness of her pussy turns your brain haywire, every other bodily function shutting off, and the heat at your crotch is at a high as you inch closer towards your peak.

Moments after her own orgasm, Jiheon breaks through her haze and regains some sobriety, starting to slowly fuck herself into your length again. By the way her face contorts, you can tell she's still sensitive, but she works through it. Like a siren, Jiheon lures you closer and closer to the edge, her sweet voice beckoning for you to give in.

“F-fuck, you’re going to cum soon, right? Fucking cum inside me. That’s what you wanted since you came over, since you saw me strip earlier, right? Well, do it.” She wraps her hands around your neck and pulls you closer. She whispers straight into your ear, the microphone unable to pick up her dirty words. “As I said, I’m all yours, Daddy.”

Her words trigger a reaction from you once more. She’s the one under you, yet she’s had you under her spell this whole time, knowing exactly how to push your buttons. You place your hands on the mattress for leverage, fucking her raw in this mating press position. You had no chance of lasting much longer, since with a few erratic pumps later, you’re filling her full of your cum. Throughout your orgasm, even after it's ended, you’re still thrusting into Jiheon, prolonging this session as much as possible.

When your cock eventually softens and slips out of her body, your creamy load immediately follows after. You lack the energy to hold yourself together and fall to Jiheon’s side. Jiheon turns her body towards the camera and you follow suit, spooning her from behind. Your shaft slips between her thighs, and it hardens once again as it slowly rubs against her messy pussy lips. Jiheon’s hand then slips downwards, and her fingers toys with your sensitive cock before they plunge back into her cunt, eliciting a soft moan. She scoops out your creampie, and some of the cum that's dripped out of her too, and then she slowly licks her hands clean for the camera.

Tilting her head back, she sighs, “You taste so good.”

~~~~~~

“So, how do you think it came out?” Jiheon asks. She's in your lap as you sit on the couch.

You take a second to process the words, with Jiheon interrupting the review of the footage. All that’s in your brain is the delightful sight of her deep in pleasure while you fucked her from behind, as well as the delightful feel of her thighs squishing under your fingers right now—you love the way your touch can make her giggle.

“I think it’s a good start," you say. "Once you get a better set up, I think it’ll be even better.”

In your mind, it’ll only be better when your cock is buried in her again, not just nested between her ass cheeks as they are now.

Things unfortunately don’t get better as Jiheon leaves the warmth of your embrace. Turns out your judgement was flawed, however, when she ties her hair into a messy ponytail and gets on her knees between your spread legs.

She looks up and smiles. “Now for your payment, Daddy.”

You grab the phone.

Maybe this one should be on camera.

#kpop fanfic #kpop smut #fromis 9 #fromis 9 smut #baek jiheon #jiheon smut

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myysaints · 6 months

Note

saw your requests are open so i’d like to request something! something angsty because this came to me after listening to ‘cherry’ by harry styles :p reader is danny’s ex but they broke up, few months later he’s dating someone else and reader is now in a (new/fresh) relationship with another driver, max/charles i couldn’t decide so i’ll let you do that! ♡ just something angsty like him realizing how much he misses her but she’s moved on and happy 🫶🏼 hope this makes sense? ah, love your stuff btw!!!

thank u anon you're so sweet! and ughhhh this request was IMMACULATE cherry is one of my favourite harry styles songs. wasn't sure if you wanted a socmed fic, if u did lmk and i'd be happy to adapt it into one! but i hope you enjoy nevertheless :)

I, I just miss I just miss your accent and your friends

Daniel stares down at his phone.

What a cruel twist of fate it is that the moment he opened his Instagram, he sees you.

You’re laughing in the picture, your hand looped around none other than Max’s neck. You’re sprawled on the Red Bull driver’s lap, and there’s a giddy grin on both of your faces, Max’s arm wrapped protectively around your waist. It feels bittersweet, seeing that familiar sweet smile of yours, only now it’s pointed at another man.

It’s only one photo in a carousel of others posted by your best friend. Why Daniel still follows her, he has no idea. But he stares at the photograph of you for longer than he’d like to admit.

There’s a shuffling noise from the kitchen, and Daniel’s new girlfriend pokes her head into the room. “Danny, we still going out for dinner?”

Daniel can only stare at her for a moment, too caught up in the memories of you and him to reply.

He knows what he’s doing is wrong. He knows he shouldn’t be leading this poor girl along. He knows that all this relationship is to him is a way to distract himself from what’s really eating at him. He knows that she’s just a replacement for you.

But the quizzical smile his girlfriend sends has his heart aching in guilt, so he manages a feeble nod in response, quickly shutting his phone off and throwing it onto the bed, before making his way to her smiling face.

The guilt eats him alive as he makes small talk with her over dinner. He would never admit it, but sometimes he can’t stand to look at her; to roll over in bed and see someone other than you laying beside him.

Did you know I still talk to them?

Everything changed after Zandvoort.

Daniel was partially to blame, he knew that. The crash in free practice had taken a toll on him, not just physically but mentally. The season in AlphaTauri was his one shot at proving that he still had it in him to be a class Formula 1 driver - to the world, to Red Bull, and to himself.

You were supportive of him all the way. From the moment he entered talks with Red Bull and AlphaTauri to get back into F1, to when he first got in that white and blue car at Hungary, you were always there, by his side.

But Zandvoort changed things. Zandvoort changed him.

He started to push you away. The comments from the media, from fans, from people everywhere, all around him, were starting to get to him. Did nobody believe in him anymore? Was he really not cut out for Formula 1?

Was his time really up?

The weeks of recovery were dark for the both of you. For him, most of it was spent in bed, his mind fuzzy from the painkillers and medicine, too tired and too beaten to do anything. For you, it was utter torture. To see the man you loved, the man whose laughter and mere presence brought so many smiles to those in the paddock, the man who never knew when to give up, look so futile and disappointed? It hurt.

But he hurt you more.

Does he take you walking round his parents' gallery?

It’s funny. Fate, he means. How it has a way of testing him, how it has a way of bringing his mind and him back to you. Always you.

“Has anyone seen Max and Y/N? They were supposed to arrive a while ago, are they late? ”

Instinctively, Daniel turns. It’s almost pathetic really. How just the sound of your name catches his attention and has him whipping around, his eyes searching for you. How you unwittingly made him into your own lapdog.

You aren’t there, though, so he keeps his head down and ignores the questioning look his girlfriend sends him.

In the final few weeks, and perhaps even months, of your relationship, Daniel hadn’t been kind on you. He became bitter, spiteful, even jealous. To him, you just didn’t understand the weight on his shoulder, the pressures he had to face. But how could you? Despite all your protests and pleading, he was shutting you out of his life, bit by bit.

Every time you came over, it ended with screaming matches and you leaving with tears in your eyes. Daily visits from you turned into weekly check-ins. He started to turn his head away from you when you tried to kiss his cheek. Those turned into brusque hand squeezes. His texts, too, became sparse and dry. He recoiled from you when you were around.

He could still remember the heartbreak on your face when he told you he wanted to break up. "It's for both of our own good," he mumbled. "I need to focus on racing. You should have a life outside of me."

It was a bitter end, and to this day, Daniel still regrets not putting up enough of a fight. How stupid he had been, to think that without you, he could give his 100% to racing. How stupid he had been, to think of you as a distraction.

He can’t imagine how stupid he must appear to you now, showing up on Sunday with a new girlfriend on his arm.

Don't you call him baby

“You sure you’re okay?”

You smooth down your dress for the umpteenth time, breathing out a nervous sigh as you smile back at Max, who glances at you in slight concern. His press officer is fussing over the both of you, the paddock entrance looming both terrifyingly and excitingly ahead.

It’s about to be your first public appearance with Max, and your first public appearance at a Formula 1 grand prix since… Well, since your relationship with Daniel ended.

It’s been a rough few months. It took time, getting used to Daniel’s absence. You hadn’t realised just how much of your life had revolved around his being; it became painful to even step foot in the paddock, to even switch on the television to catch up on the latest grand prix.

Even worse was the public scrutiny. You and Daniel had always been open about your relationship, frequently sharing bits and pieces of your life together on each of your social medias. So it was no wonder than when you both stopped posting each other, and when you took down all your posts with him, that fans knew something was up.

Things hadn’t been easy. But Max had made it better. What started as a friendly reaching out turned into a heartachingly romantic and sweet courting, and now, he was your boyfriend.

You smile at Max, reaching up to press a gentle kiss on his cheek. You can hear a flurry of cameras snapping away, and you resist glancing at them, choosing instead to focus on your boyfriend. At your peck, Max ducks his head, as if suddenly shy despite the two of you having dated for going on 3 months now. Still, the small grin on his face tells you all you need to know.

“I’ll be fine,” you say as you slip your hand into his, and give a nod to his press officer. Max’s thumb smooths over your knuckles, and you finally feel yourself relax. You look into his eyes, and in this moment, you know: You’re happy.

“Don’t worry ‘bout me, baby.”

We're not talking lately

Everyone notices when you enter the paddock.

Not only because it’s the first time in months that you’ve appeared at a Grand Prix, but because you have Max Verstappen beside you. With his arm around your waist.

“What’s happening?” his girlfriend asks, craning her neck to peer at the paddock entrance. “Did someone just arrive?”

“It’s Max,” a passing journalist calls, as he hastens towards the paddock entrance himself. “With Y/N!”

Daniel can’t help himself. Really, he can’t.

It happens before he can stop himself. He’s getting up and pulling his hand from his girlfriend and his feet are taking himself over to you as if they have a mind of their own. As if they still remember that it's where he’s meant to be. By your side.

The crowd doesn’t part for him. Not anymore. He finds himself standing on the outskirts of the gathering group, watching from afar as you bashfully smile for the many snapping cameras, and cling onto Max a little tighter, as the Red Bull driver nods politely at the journalists swarming you.

“Alright, alright, let us through, please,” he hears Max say, “Let my girl have some space, yeah?”

Something akin to jealousy rears its ugly head.

Then the horde of people are moving, and some are finally beginning to notice Daniel.

“Danny!” “Daniel, over here, please!” “How’re you feeling today, Daniel?” “Daniel, how does it feel that Max is dating your ex-girlfriend?”

The question has him reeling, and he can only stare at the waiting journalist incredulously. What a ridiculous fucking question. He has half a mind to charge at the dickhead and throw a punch that will send the cunt into a coma for weeks-

“Look, mate, leave us alone, yeah? Daniel, how’re you doin’?”

Max claps a good-natured hand on Daniel’s back, steering him away from the throng of journalists and photographers, who groan before turning their attention to Fernando, who’s just gotten out of his car.

Max’s friendliness momentarily stuns him, and all he can manage out is a half-convincing “Good, good” in return. This seems to satisfy Max enough, though, because then he’s smiling and nodding and rubbing Daniel’s shoulders.

It’s at this moment Daniel realises you’re still here.

He glances back at you, trailing behind him and Max.

You’re just as pretty as ever, he thinks to himself. It’s almost as if nothing had changed. Like you’re still the one he walked into the paddock with, like you’re waiting for him to finish a conversation with Max, not the other way around.

You don’t even look his way.

“…so then I told Charles, ‘No way, there’s no way you’re convincing Carlos that!’, and then, you know what he said? Really, it’s hilarious, he-”

Max stops his rambling midway, leaning down to listen to something you whisper in his ear.

“I’m gonna head to the garage first, okay?” Daniel hears you mumble, “I’ll see you later, baby.”

Then Max tilts your head up and presses a kiss on your mouth.

It’s at this moment that Daniel can’t help but feel a little foolish. Actually, more than a little. He feels stupid, downright idiotic standing here with his ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend. Trying to pretend like everything was alright.

The worst part of it all, is that you don’t seem fazed at all. To you, it’s like he’s just another driver you bump into ever-so-often. You don’t seem to care about him. It’s like he and the weight of your shared history don’t even exist. Like it never did.

The sight of you walking away from him – again – pains him more than he thought it would. He can’t bear to lose you again, not when he’s still so fucking in love with you.

Soo he darts his hand out and grabs your wrist, and you whip around, eyes wide and stunned, and Daniel feels Max halt beside him, watching him intently.

And you’re looking at him now. Finally, you’re looking at him.

His eyes roam yours, trying to find a hint of familiarity, hoping desperately that he’ll find the same yearning and aching he feels for you reflected in your eyes.

“Don't you call him what you used to call me,” he whispers. Pleading with you.

Something in you seems to soften, and there’s a flash of pain in your eyes, but it's one that is quickly replaced with anger.

You wrench your hand from his grip and shove him away, storming off as Max follows you, casting an indecipherable look at Daniel in the process. Daniel watches as Max catches up to you, and he watches as you let him cradle you in his arms.

But it’s not your anger that hurts the most.

It’s the fact that you never once looked back at him.

#daniel ricciardo x reader #max verstappen x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #f1 imagine #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #daniel riccardo imagine #f1 #red bull racing #max verstappen fanfic #˖⁺‧₊˚ 📂 ── my writing #꒰ ⁺‧₊˚ [🏁] formula 1

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mysunshinetemptress · 3 months

Text

Tesoro mio, La mia vita

Alessia Russo x Bosa!reader

Warnings: none just Fluff,it’s really short just a little thing, some really bad Italian cause it was taken from Google, but Surprise here’s a short one for Valentine’s Day

You were walking into London Colony when you were suddenly stopped by Mark, Arsenals media director “Hey Y/n, how have you been.” You smiled at the camera “all good Mark how are you.” Mark smiled zooming in on your face slightly before speaking “I’m good thanks, just wondering what’s your phone screen.” You laughed lightly pulling your hands phone out of your back pocket before looking down at the photo and smiling. It was no secret you and Alessia Russo were dating, she’s the reason you played for Arsenal but what fans didn’t know was how long your relationship had actually been going on for. Turning your phone you should the photo “it’s a picture of my two brothers Nick and Joey, Tesoro Mio Alessia and both her brothers Luca and Gio.” You paused allowing Mark to zoom in before continuing on “it was taken at the NFC Championship game in 2019, which was Nicks first season in the NFL and all my family where there as well as Alessia’s as we all brought our partners and their family so it was a big day but I love my brothers, and when I’m here Gio and Luca are like my brothers and of course I love Alessia so yeah that’s my screensaver hasn’t changed since 2019 and it probably won’t anytime soon.” Mark laughed thanking you as you walked away with a red face.

It was a quite night both you and Alessia where cuddled up on your couch in St Albans when you both got a notification from the media team saying their latest video was out, you both normally ignored them but you wanted to see Alessia’s reaction to you telling the world how long you had been together so you turned it on. “Oh I love these, it’s such a cute trend.” You laughed as Alessia buried her head further into your chest as you ran your fingers through her blond hair. You smiled as you watched yourself come up on the screen and felt Alessia tense slightly “oh my god, Sole.” You blushed as she looked up at you “I can’t believe you still have that as your Lock Screen.” You mumbled kissing her head “of course I do it’s my favourite photo.” Alessia stretched up to kiss you before turning back to the Tv listening to you explain the meaning behind it before it cut to her walking into the training ground.

“Morning Alessia, how are you.” Alessia beamed happily at the older man “hi Mark all good thanks and you.” Mark smiled at the blonde “I’m good, just wondering what’s your screen saver.” Alessia looked at her phone “it’s a photo of Ella and El mio sole Y/n at the Euros in 2022, Ella pulled her over the barrier with the help of my brothers and then proceeded to jump on Y/ns back and then this photo is of me and Y/n after winning the NCAA I asked her to be my girlfriend shortly after and the rest is history.” Mark smiled “so the photos mean a lot to you.” Alessia smiled nodding “definitely both her and Ella mean a lot to me and that moment is something I just love looking back on.” You turned looking down at the blonde “you’re going to make me cry.” Alessia sat up grabbing your face laughing “naw don’t cry, I love you and I love those moments and memories with you.” You leaned your head against hers “I love every moment with you.” Alessia pecked your lips “Te amo, el mio sole.” You pulled her forward locking your lips together as you kissed her passionately “Ti amo, La Mia vita.”

#awfc #woso #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso imagine #alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo x you #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #woso community #woso blurbs #woso x reader #woso soccer #woso couples #valentines day #nick bosa #joey bosa #arsenal wfc #ar

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miraclewoozi · 1 month

Text

FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE. -l.c

pair : dino x fem!reader. prompt : “say you want me, and i’m yours.” SMUT. MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT. wc : 5k. heads up / smut tags : ex-boyfriend!chan. everyone’s down horrendous. drinking/some alcohol consumption prior to the fucking (they aren’t drunk tho). chan is able to lift reader and carry her a short distance. oral (f rec). backshots. unprotected p-in-v sex. reader has solid arch game. chan calls reader good girl/pretty girl/ baby. it’s all very needy. notes : i had idubilu chan on the brain for a big portion of writing. this was supposed to be a drabble and then ended up longer than some of my actual fics, so. bon appetite i guess?

There’s a list of places you think you’d be okay to run into one of your exes.

In the grocery store, for starters. At the gym. In a bar, at your favourite pizza place, the library… None of them would exactly be fun, but one way or another, you believe that they would all be quite manageable.

Further down are family events. While on a date with someone else. At the beach, or a swimming pool. A doctors office. Considerably more uncomfortable. Would probably warrant a large glass of wine as soon as you got home. You would live, though. No doubt about it.

But at a wedding? Not only is it not on there, it’s quite high up on its own index.

The Crisis List.

Yet this is the position in which you find yourself on this beautiful summer’s evening. You suppose it’s sort of what you get for letting yourself be set up with a friend of a friend while you were in college and mixing your social circles: this is some sort of twisted, universal revenge. But of all the places you’ve pictured running into Chan and succeeding to pace yourself through awkward small-talk before parting ways again… you never imagined that a celebration of eternal love would be the setting.

You recognised the sound of his voice pretty much as soon as you arrived, but you were thankfully seated on opposite sides of the aisle during the ceremony itself. It was therefore pretty easy to keep your eyes off him and instead focus on what was going on at the front of the room. This wasn’t so simple when you only knew one other person at your table during the dinner service and Chan was seated barely ten feet away, and every time you glanced over to him, he was blowing bubbles and entertaining a group of young kids. Every time he laughed, or even every time he made one of them laugh, your head would snap over on instinct. Though you locked eyes with him a few times, mostly you were able to look away again before he had the chance to catch you.

Regardless, seeing that brilliant smile from across the room full of strangers made your stomach twist, so much so that you couldn’t even finish your dessert.

Thus far, the day has passed without any real incident; dinner was three hours ago and you’ve managed to avoid him almost perfectly. You keep telling yourself that if you can just make it a little while longer, you’ll be able to go back upstairs and retire to your hotel room, and maybe even eventually, this will become another one of those memories you can laugh about with your friends.

Just a little while longer.

In the meantime, a stool at the very end of the bar is your sanctuary and it has been for so long that your ass has started to go numb. With more people in attendance at the reception than there were at the ceremony and dinner portions of the day, you’re doing a pretty fantastic job keeping your distance from Chan. His friends, too. Everyone, if you’re being completely honest: with your back to the room at large, you could forgive anyone here for assuming that you peaked early, got wasted and just no longer have the legs to move from your perch.

But the truth is that you’re still nursing the same flute of champagne you were given on your way in. Still drawing your fingertip round and around the rim of the same glass, wiping off the lipstick marks you leave with every tiny new sip. Still watching the same bubbles rise up and burst at the same surface. You’re about as sober as anyone on the planet has ever been.

At least, almost certainly, you’re the most sober adult in the building.

You know it’s not exactly fair to have removed yourself from the fun like this on the happiest day of your friends’ lives. You’re overjoyed for them, you really are, and you sort of wish you could just shake this off and go about your business, pretending he’s not here so that you could enjoy yourself properly. You’ve never claimed to be the life and soul of the party, but you know being so distant is a new look on you.

If only it was as easy as simply caring less.

But you’re surrounded by happy couples and faced with the man who is the definition of ‘right person, wrong time’. How can you possibly think about anything else?

Your spine tingles with the feeling of someone hovering behind you and you pick your glass up into your hand, ready to spin around and tell a concerned bride — for the fifth time — that you promise, you’re okay. To keep up the lie about the bellyache you’ve been pretending to have for an hour now just to get her to go back to her party. You square your shoulders and put a smile onto your face, but you don’t have the chance to turn around and put up a façade. The person — who is decidedly not who you were expecting — appears to your right instead, a solid frame in a black suit swallowing up your periphery. Your excuses fade away to static in your brain.

“Is this seat taken?” Chan asks, fingertips brushing over the leather of the chair adjacent to you. “Are you… waiting for someone?”

You shake your head, taking a deep breath. There’s no running away now. “Nope. All yours.”

He swings one leg over the stool and settles into it, both hands resting up on the bar. He, too, twitches his fingers against his glass. He, too, fails to even glance at you.

“Been a while, huh?” He says after a few seconds. Even though music continues playing behind you both, it’s nowhere near as loud as the thick, uncomfortable silence that had started to settle between you.

A while is sort of a massive understatement. You haven’t seen him in… four? Five years? Not since you left college and he accepted the job offer of a lifetime, pulling him all the way to the other side of the country. Not since, despite your shared willingness to try, you realised that the whole long-distance thing didn’t work for either of you; not since you ended up calling time on your relationship after just four months of being apart.

Ending things meant saying goodbye to amost two and a half years though, in total.

You’d you’d never been broken up with over a video call before. It fucking sucked.

“I didn’t know you were around,” you say instead of answering the obvious. “Are you just here for this, or…?”

Chan takes a long sip from his drink and finishes the glass, pushing it away from himself. He shakes his head, scrunching his nose a little. You were surprised not to see him with some sort of a whiskey in-hand, so his reaction to the chug makes sense: he was never that big into wines. Some things never change.

“I got promoted. Came with a relocation,” he tells you. This time, he turns his head and looks at you properly, a small smile tugging up the corners of his lips.

“Oh, shit. Congratulations,” you offer, tilting your now mostly empty glass in his direction before draining the little bit in the bottom, just like he did. You know it’s probably all in your own head that the fizz gives you a bit of a confidence boost, but you find the nerve to move to face him fully: you’ve never been one to turn your nose up at a positive coincidence, after all. “That’s amazing.”

“Thank you,” he says, bowing his head. “It’s… good to be back.”

A few seconds later, he tags on, “and it’s really good to see you.”

The bartender comes back to see if she can get you anything else to drink now you’ve finally finished your champagne and Chan puts his card down for a round of your choosing. It helps loosen up the tension in your shoulders, stops you bouncing your leg against the rest beneath your seat, makes it a little bit easier to settle into a back and forth with him. Eventually, the conversation starts to flow as if you were never really apart.

You laugh at his bad jokes. Chan shoves you playfully when you make some back. He gets so invested in catching up on what’s been going on in your life that he doesn’t even tell you what the promotion he got is, nor where he’s been relocated to.

As the following few hours tick by, he doesn’t leave your side. Even when people come over to talk to him, even when your friends’ eyes start to find you together and linger, as they attempt to read your lips, pick apart your body language, as they begin whispering behind their hands. He takes exactly one bathroom break, and he finds his way straight back to the chair he left. He even scoots it a little bit closer.

And the longer he stays glued to your left, the more you find yourself starting to hope a little harder that wherever he’s living now, it’s not too far away. That whatever him being ‘back’ means, something happens because of it.

Your something comes in the form of your companion trying to persuade you to get up and dance with him. He fails, numerous times; you have a whole arsenal of excuses, some of which are recycled and things that he heard a very long time ago, but others are new. He raises his eyebrows at a couple of them, though you don’t know if he’s just shocked at your attempts or actually impressed. None of them work on him though. You should have remembered that he wasn’t a quitter.

“My shoes hurt,” you tell him on attempt number five. “You go, I’ll stay here.”

Clearly, this line of defence isn’t good enough either.

“Just one song,” Chan asks again as he stands up from his chair and picks up one of your wrists, this time. You look down at where he’s holding you, but he doesn’t. “Please? Just… for me?”

“When was the last time I did anything ‘just for you’?” You scoff incredulously, shaking your head.

It doesn’t. His eyes soften and he takes a small step closer to you, those perfect lips of his pressing into a pout.

He drops his fingers lower and squeezes your hand lightly. “Too long ago. I miss it.”

Something in his stare looks a little far away and you wonder what exactly it is that he’s thinking about. Is he remembering the times you would bring him his favourite snacks when he was sick, ice his injuries after gruelling dance practices, brush sleep out of his eyes early in the mornings when he stayed up too late and couldn’t get out of bed, but really needed to make it to his 8AM classes? Is he remembering when you’d put band-aids on his papercuts? Make sure his laptop was fully charged when he had long study days? Pick him and his friends up from the bars and let him lean all his weight against you as you dragged him into your apartment?

(Those needy nights where you’d let him call you the prettiest girl in the world as he snuggled into your side and nuzzled his cold nose against your warm cheek? When you’d let him tell you, without even rolling your eyes, that you were his everything, the reason he had any strength, the love of his life, the only person he’d ever need—)

He uses your distractedness to his full advantage; as soon as the muscles in your arm go slack, he pulls you again and this time succeeds in getting you to your feet. You stumble a few steps towards him and he ends up leading you all the way over to the dance floor, grinning proudly the entire time.

“One song,” you stress, hanging your head to try and conceal the fact that you’re definitely blushing hard.

“Just one,” he lies, glancing back at you.

You know he's lying, too. High-flying job aside, he’s always been a dancer at heart: when he turns around to face you, there’s a glint in his eyes that says ‘one... or five.’

Confirming your suspicions, seven songs later, you’re still up there with him. You’ve stopped caring about your dumb shoes, or having too many sets of eyes on you, or whether anyone here is murmuring about it. How could you mind, when he keeps finding little ways to touch you again? When he’s singing his heart out, serenading you with corny 90’s love songs, hand on his heart and everything?

How could you mind, when he so clearly doesn’t care?

And the thing is… no part of you thinks that this is a bad idea. It could never be a bad thing to let somebody make your heart race this way and your brain so fuzzy; just seeing him grin at you as he extends his hand out, waiting for you to take it, feels like being twenty one all over again. And when he spins you and spins you and spins you until you’re dizzy, falling over your own feet and staggering until you land against his solid chest, laughing… when he catches you in both arms, and darts his tongue out over his lips at the exact moment you look at his face…

Perhaps your rare moment of unabashed bravery is spurred on by the way he drinks you up like an elixir. Perhaps it’s spurred on by the way he adjusts himself to hold you tighter against him, perhaps it’s spurred on by the fact that this right here is exactly what you feel like you’ve been missing. Whatever the reason, you hook a finger through one of the belt-loops on his pants and manage to find your voice long enough to speak.

“My room or yours?” You ask, quietly enough only for him to hear, loudly enough that he can’t mistake you.

Letting out a breathy chuckle, he brings his palm up between your shoulder blades. “Don’t care,” he says, ducking lower and brushing the tip of his nose against your own. “Just… pick one. As soon as possible.”

A few people have already started to leave: couples with young families, older relatives who are getting tired, friends who have work in the morning, so you don’t feel too bad about slipping out into the corridor with Chan in tow as soon as you’ve grabbed your things. The elevator door closes behind you and you feel the mechanism start to pull you upwards, away from the hotel’s function room and towards the fourth floor to your own suite. Chan presses kiss after kiss to the back of your neck as soon as you’re alone, hands slipping around your waist and joining together just below your belly-button.

“They have… cameras in these, you know,” you sigh, tilting your head to give him better access anyway.

He chuckles quietly, nosing just behind your ear. “Okay?” He says, kissing you there too, bunching your dress in his hand and pulling it a little higher up your thigh. “So what?”

“So… fucking… public indecency,” you laugh, a little taken aback by his brazenness.

It’s hard to be stern with him when he’s acting as if he never forgot how to press every single one of your buttons. Hell, as if he never stopped pushing them, in the first place. You lay one hand over both of his and squeeze gently, encouraging his teeth to keep grazing over the skin of your shoulder. You’ve never had any resolve when it comes to him. He clearly hasn’t forgotten.

Just as you’re relaxing into it, the elevator pings and you jolt away from him just in time for the door to open. The middle aged woman waiting to get in eyes you both as you rush out into the hallway and Chan grabs hold of your hand: you’re fairly sure she sucks her front teeth just before the door closes, but you don’t care. You’re too busy counting the rooms until you get to yours.

409, 410, 411…

“You look so fucking good right now,” Chan groans as you whip turn a corner and he quickens his pace to catch up, walking so fast he should probably be running instead.

421, 422…

“423,” you breathe, fumbling in your purse for the key-card.

In a flash, you wave it over the sensor and pull down on the handle: before you have the chance to get dizzy from the speed of the turn, Chan has you pressed against the door from the inside. He doesn’t wait to be invited. He barely gives you the chance to catch your breath from your power-walk from the reception. Both his hands press into your hips when he brings his mouth down against yours, lips scorching hot, lifted up at the edges in a grin. Your knees go weak and you hold onto his biceps for stability, which… maybe, with how thick and sturdy they feel beneath your palms, isn’t a great way to help you calm down.

When his tongue presses into your mouth and he tastes you for the first time in what feels like forever, you know the only thing keeping you standing is his strength. His hands, pinning you to the wood behind you. His body, pressing against you everywhere it possibly can. His muscular thigh, slotted between yours, giving you something to relax down against but also, to find a tiny little bit of friction from.

He dips down a little lower, looping his hands around you just below your ass, and with a quick movement he lifts you up off the floor completely. You hook your ankles together behind him, shifting to get higher up on his hips: when he steps away from the door, you drop your head down to his shoulder and a smirk replaces his prior very needy expression, feeling how warm you are at your core now your dress has hiked up around your waist.

“Say you want me,” he says, licking a stripe up the side of your neck. He knows you do.

“Huh?”

Chan repeats, “say you want me.”

You grasp harder at his hair and pull, but he doesn’t move away from your neck, just keeps kissing you at your sweet-spot until he’s walked a few paces to the middle of the room, holding you up over the hotel’s generously sized bed.

“Say you want me, and I’m yours.”

He’s… yours?

It takes you a moment to process it but you don’t have to think twice about how you respond, even though your stomach flips at this very open-hearted confession. The entire way back up here, part of you expected this to be little more than a one-night-only special event, but…

“Shit,” you whine, feeling his fingers slip beneath the thin fabric of your underwear at your hip and tug. He pulls back from you at the sound of your voice, determined to look you in the eyes when you say it.

Faces just inches apart, you admit, “I– I want you, Chan. Please. I want you so much.”

He bounces you up a little bit higher to get you to unhook your ankles and proceeds to basically drop you down onto the mattress, pushing both his shirt sleeves up to his elbows and reaching for his necktie. In a manner you can only describe as obscenely smooth, he grabs the knot and pulls, tugging it side to side to make it looser. The expensive silk comes undone easily. He balls it in his fist. You watch him toss his tie to the side, snap open a few more buttons, and with heavily lidded eyes, he plants one knee on the comforter, before crawling up the length of your body until you’re face-to-face again.

You take care of the remaining buttons on his shirt for him as he trails his lips all over your throat, your chest, your shoulders: even down your arms, to the crooks of your elbows, everywhere he can reach with your clothes still on. When his upper body is bare, he disregards the fact that you’re still wearing anything at all and kisses down your torso anyway.

He lays between your thighs and presses his lips to them, too, pushing your dress up higher until it’s bunched up around your ribcage. One of his hands pushes your panties to the side and the other one reaches up to grab hold of yours, pulling it down to lace your fingers back into his hair. You do as he silently asks, and you swear his eyes roll back into his head at the first little pull.

Chan always liked giving, but he loved it when you used him like a little toy, tugging and moving him around until you couldn’t handle him anymore.

Some things never change.

You’re about to tell him that he doesn’t have to do this. That you could take him now, if he wanted to hurry and get to it, because you’re already feeling yourself flutter at the thought of having him buried inside you. But his lips part and you feel the tip of his tongue drag through your folds, separating them, exposing you; he collects your arousal and swallows it back, pressing his tongue into your hole, swirling it around your clit, sending sparks up and down your spine.

That ridiculous, stupid idea dies magnificently. You let Chan lose himself in you, and in equal parts, you lose yourself in him. In the cold bite of the ring decorating his middle finger as he trails them down your sensitive skin, in the way he grunts and moans and praises you between your legs. You selfish– and selfless–ly let him have his way, right up until you feel so tense you could snap.

Sure, you could let yourself come undone like this. Easily. In seconds, even, because he’s got you right there and you’re battling not to let it wash over you. But there’s something you need even more than the euphoria of your own release.

You scrunch your fist in his strands so hard that it forces him to pull away from you, gasping and cringing at the sting. At this, before he has the chance to ask what’s wrong, why you’ve stopped, if you’re okay, you press up onto one elbow, straps hanging off your shoulders, your own hair a mess. Somehow, Chan still looks up at you with glittering eyes, so shiny you can see their sweet, questioning gaze even in the dark.

“Need you, now,” you tell him, your chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. He wipes over his lips on the back of his hand and nods, pulling himself up onto his knees. You let go of him and tug your dress up over your head while he fiddles with the buckle on his belt.

“Flip over,” he says huskily, tugging it free just as quickly as he did with his tie, and when it thunks to the floor, you hear him start to move his pants down his legs too.

You do as he says, turning onto your front, bracing yourself on your knees with your hands clasped together beneath your head. Your back arches naturally for him, pressing your hips higher into the air; his breath catches at the sight of you, your perfect ass, your dribbling pussy.

It’s his favourite view. Always has been. Shit, nothing since the last time he was with you has ever come close.

“Deep breath for me,” he says, so soft in comparison to the way his fingers on one hand grasp at your hip and you feel the blunt edges of his nails digging into your skin. You inhale through your mouth, loud enough for him to hear. “That’s it. My good girl.”

He’s so fucking hard when he finally drags his tip through your folds, so heavy and thick when he pushes inside you inch by inch. The stretch is more intense than you remember, and despite slowly letting the breath you sucked in leave your lungs, you feel all of your muscles go tense. Your eyes squeeze shut. Your torso goes tight. You know your cunt hugs him because of how he lets go of his length and lays his hand flat in the middle of your back, dragging his thumb back and forth, trying to soothe you through it.

“Easy,” he says to you, slowing but not stopping until he’s buried all the way inside you. He’s so deep, you swear he nudges something he shouldn’t. So far inside you that you don’t know what to do with yourself. “Relax, baby. I’ve got you.”

It’s a little difficult when you feel more full now than you ever have, but slowly, you manage to loosen up and it’s only when you give a small nod of your head and an 'mhm' that he starts to rock his hips back and forth. Shallow, to start with, but with the angle he slides into you at, he might as well be going full depth, full force, full speed with how feverish this already is. You bunch the comforter in your fist, letting those familiar sensations of being fucked by Chan take over, letting the discomfort subside until it's replaced only by pleasure.

By which point, he's stopped treating you like a fragile doll, and has started to handle you like the person he wishes he never lost.

Those dancer hips haven't gone to waste, you realise, as he snaps them fluidly into you, the harsh slap of skin-on-skin punctuating every single sound that escapes you both. Sometimes, he pulls you back, spearing you wholly on his length, letting you do some of the work and control the pace. Sometimes, he holds you completely still so that he can have it all.

At all times, you feel yourself losing your mind piece by piece. Though you've tried to be with other people since that horrendous breakup, it's never managed to stick, and you find yourself thinking that maybe in a way, you were waiting for him. Hoping that one day, he'd waltz his way back into your life and sweep you off your feet and make sure you never forgot just how well he can give it to you. Praying that the universe was going to give you another chance.

One of his hands slips around your waist, now, and you feel him come down lower, pressing his chest against your back. His thrusts stop being so long and instead, he settles for harsh, deep ruts. His fingers find and start strumming over your clit, and you can feel yourself start to break apart with gasps and choked moans and whines of his name.

You're done for, and he knows it, but he still teases you as he kisses up your spine.

"Wanna feel you come, pretty girl," he says. His fingers move so easily that it takes everything you have not to collapse beneath him. “Missed feeling this pretty pussy around me. Wasn’t the same watching you play with it on the phone.”

You hide your face in the comforter and gasp, that beautiful heat starting to rise up inside you again. “Fuck, Chan—”

“That’s it,” he guides you, grunting with every little spasm of your walls. “Missed you so much.”

“I missed— missed—” you try to say, but he finds just the right pattern to make you squeak and you tug harder at the sheets. “Oh my God—”

Your universe explodes as he hits just the right spot inside you and you feel your peak slam through you, hips jerking back to meet his until there’s no room for any air to pass between your bodies. Chan stills, letting you ride yourself through it, easing up a little with the pressure of his fingers but still keeping them moving to milk every ounce of pleasure that he can from you.

With your thighs still shaking, you buckle downwards and he slips out of you unintentionally as you fight to catch your breath. You’re still seeing spots, still trying to put your thoughts in the right order, but when he smooths his hands over your ass and down the backs of your thighs, still up on his knees behind you, you slowly start to come back to Earth.

You slowly move round to lie on your back so you can look up at him, his still hard, now soaked cock sitting heavily against his thigh. He settles his hands on your knees, and you lean over to the side to pass your finger over one of the light switches. The one behind the headboard flickers to life and illuminates him: a sheen of sweat makes his broad frame gleam, his rosy blush makes your chest stutter.

“I missed you too,” you say quietly, unsure now if he was just saying so in the heat of the moment or if it was the truth.

You never needed to worry, though. Not if the way he drops down onto one elbow and kisses your newly regained breath straight back out of your lungs, cupping your cheek with his other hand is anything to go by.

“You meant it, then? You really want me?” He asks, pulling away only to drag his thumb over the corner of your mouth. You nod, turning your head a little and pursing your lips forward, pressing a kiss to his skin.

“I never stopped,” you tell him.

Little celebratory fireworks start to dance in his pretty eyes.

“Yeah?” He breathes, rolling onto his back and pulling you on top of him. “Good. Neither did I.”

thank u so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed it! as always, likes, reblogs, comments & feedback are so so appreciated.<3 thank u so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed it! as always, likes, reblogs, comments & feedback are so so appreciated.<3

#lee chan smut #dino smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #kpop smut #dino x you #dino x reader #dino imagines #j writes.#mw500party!#*

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essenceofelegance · 1 month

Text

new year’s day

Luke Castellan x aphrodite!reader

m.list

warnings: angst </3

There's glitter on the floor after the party,

He’s giving her that smile.

The one reserved for you.

The one you adored so, so much.

Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby

Luke took her hand in his larger one, leading her back to her cabin.

He laughed at something she said.

You directly your attention back to cleaning up the Aphrodite cabin after a party, alone.

Luke used to do it with you.

Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor You and me from the night before, but

While you were cleaning you own bed, you found a polaroid picture of you and Luke from a year ago, probably.

You were wearing a pink, feathered cowboy hat, you were leaning into the camera, a bright smile on your face.

Luke’s hands were on your waist, he had a pink fur boa around him to match your hat.

You would give anything to have him hold you just one more time.

Don't read the last page But I stay when you're lost, and I'm scared, and you're turning away

Of course he would like an Athena girl.

They’re smart, they can fight, and they’re pretty.

Sure, she doesn’t have that radiant glow around her like you did, but she was still pretty.

She had h/c hair, like you did.

She also had e/c eyes.

But her’s… looked so much better than yours. It glowed.

She looked better, she could fight better, she was actually smart.

Your siblings reassured you, insisting that you were a daughter of Aphrodite, there was no way she was prettier than you.

But that wasn’t the way you saw it.

And in your eyes, that wasn’t the way Luke saw it either.

I want your midnights But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day

You were teaching your usual archery lessons, when you spot Luke and his new girlfriend in a sparring match.

He looks happy.

Only, a different kind of happy.

Sure, you were good with a dagger, but not sword fighting. You were never good at sword fighting, you were only good at archery.

Maybe Luke wanted something who appreciated the things he liked to do.

You squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi I can tell that it's gonna be a long road

"It's not you, it never was, its just that I feel like we don’t get each other anymore." Luke said.

"Yeah, I get it." you looked down to hide your unshed tears.

"Thanks for... everything," you gave him a forced smile.

“You were great. You were a great experience,” Luke said, as if to comfort you.

‘You were everything!’ you wanted to scream at him.

But you just smiled and walked away.

I'll be there if you're the toast of the town, babe Or if you strike out and you're crawling home

You watched as Luke celebrated his capture the flag victory with his new girlfriend.

You weren’t jealous,

you just felt replaced.

How could he replace you so easily when you felt like your heart would be empty for years?

Did you really mean that little to him?

You couldn’t bear watching them anymore.

Don't read the last page But I stay when it's hard, or it's wrong, or we're making mistakes

A total of 17 guys sent you flowers.

If you were a logical person, you would have at least hooked up with them, but little old you decided that you should wait for Luke.

So, you rejected every single guy that came up to you.

All your siblings are just straight up worried about you now, they knew how important Luke was to you, but not to this degree.

You still cry yourself to sleep every night,

they find you in the middle of the night going through a photo book of you and Luke.

I want your midnights But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day

Hold on to the memories They will hold on to you

You still wear the matching bracelet he gave you for your second anniversary.

He’s wearing a new one with his girlfriend.

You see them connecting their magnetic heart charm on their bracelet at campfires, while you’re here playing with yours that no longer had a match.

Hold on to the memories They will hold on to you

You still have his favourite hoodie under your bed.

You still have his favourite shirt under your bed.

You still have one of his camp t-shirts on your bed.

He caught you wearing his hoodie on you way to the bathroom in the middle of the night when you bumped into him.

He never questioned you or asked for it back.

Hold on to the memories They will hold on to you

You still have everything he gave you.

And I will hold on to you.

Everything reminds you of him.

That one bench where the two of you used to hang out on everyday,

ever your own bed, where he used to sneak in to talk to you at night.

Please don't ever become a stranger Whose laugh I could recognise anywhere

You hate it when she makes him laugh.

You hate it when you hear that damn laugh.

You hate it because it didn’t happen because of you.

Please don't ever become a stranger Whose laugh I could recognise anywhere

You hate him because he’s not yours.

There's glitter on the floor after the party Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby

It’s been a couple of months.

You still wear his hoodie to sleep.

liked this? or want something better? City of Stars is much more heartbreaking </3

author: yay

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#pjo fic #pjo fanfic #pjo characters #pjo luke #pjo series #pjo #percy jackson show #percy jackson #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke pjo #charlie bushnell #pjo imagine #taylor swift

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