#Studio Glass Movement

[sluttywoozi]

Like A Melody | ljh x f!reader

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~3.9k | Pairing: ljh x f!reader | genre: smut

Jihoon has fucked you in his studio before, but never like this.

Warnings: dom!jihoon, studio sex, biting, hair pulling, grinding, cumming in pants, multiple orgasms, oral f. rec., fingering, recorded sex (just voices), male masturbation, praise kink, piv sex, creampie

Reader Notes: chubby, has breasts and a vagina, subby

Jihoon needs to take a break. 

He desperately needs to take a break, and he knows this, so why can’t he do it?

He’s been working on music for hours; his fingers are starting to cramp from plucking guitar strings and pressing down piano keys, his throat is sore from trying lyric after lyric, and his hair is a mess from his fingers running through it every other minute. His eyes are exhausted, the blue light lenses in his glasses only doing so much. Even his back hurts, which rarely happens now that he lifts so heavy. 

But he just can’t make himself quit, which is why he breathes a sigh of relief when he hears the knock. It’s soft, just like you, and he calls out a quiet, “Come in,” feeling the smile stretch his lips as soon as your sweet face peeks through the slowly opening door. 

“Are you busy?” You ask apprehensively, your eyes darting between his face and his computer. 

He can’t take a break for himself but he can for you, so he says, “Not at all, baby,” and pulls his glasses off, minimizing his music production software. Pushing away from his desk, he turns his chair to face you and holds his hand out, waiting for you to come closer and take it. He just holds your hand for a minute, staring up at you with tired eyes and letting them blink closed when you lean down and press your lips to his. 

Kissing you is as easy as loving you. It’s one of the few times in his life where he can shut his brain off and just feel, because every movement comes naturally to him. Dancing and singing do too, of course, but he has to count beats and remember words and keep every next move in mind. 

With you, Jihoon can just do what feels right. Like taking hold of your knee with his free hand and pulling until you give in and straddle him in his chair. He loves how plush and perfect you feel against him, all of his sharp edges rounded out by your curves, and he loves even more having your weight on him. 

He can take it, he can take you, and he likes to remind you at every opportunity. 

Sliding lower in the chair, he pulls your hips into his to let you feel his hardening dick, his hand flexing in yours when you grind down. He can feel how hot you are through your little pajama shorts, and if he knows you at all, you’re wet already. He works his fingers free of yours to slide them between your legs, pulling your shorts and panties to the side so he can feel you through his thin athletic pants. 

Your arousal soaks the fabric as soon as he thrusts up into you, making him let out a small laugh against your lips. You pout in response and mutter, “Shut up,” still working your hips against his. 

“Didn’t say anything, baby,” he teases, smirking up at you and squeezing your lush hips with both hands. You sink yours into his hair and pull, and suddenly, nothing is funny. His hips buck against yours as his cock twitches, precum leaking from the head adding to the wet patch on his lap. 

Your hips roll into his and he starts to throb, his dick pulsing in time with his heart. He can’t let you keep going or you’ll make him cum in his pants, or maybe… he could? 

Should he? 

It makes you feel good to make him feel good, and you always have a little pep in your step after he lets you make him cum first. He’s also desperate to get his mouth on you, and you’ll be more inclined to let him take care of you if he’s already taken care of. 

With his mind made up, he pulls you down onto his cock and grinds into you, exhaling a moan against your mouth when you tug on his hair again. You love it this length, you’ve told him, and he’s going to keep it like this for as long as he possibly can. Partially for you, mostly because he fucking adores having you brush it and play with it and braid it. 

He gets to be so close to you, and your fingers in his hair feel heavenly, even (especially) when you get a little rough. 

His scalp stings with the next pull and it sends a shiver down his spine, ending in a sharp buck of his hips. He stretches his thumbs out to pull your pussy apart so he can grind into your clit, hoping to take you over the edge with him. 

He’s getting close already, and you’re so wet, he can feel every inch of your cunt like there’s nothing separating him from you. Soon enough, there will be nothing, and he’ll be able to lick and suck and kiss you as much as he wants. 

You bite his lip and drag your nails over his scalp, and that’s it for him. 

His brain goes offline and his hips stutter against yours, a low groan leaving his open mouth as his dick twitches and jerks, streaks of cum splattering the inside of his pants. Your hips don’t stop moving until he stops them himself, his harsh grip dimpling your flesh. 

“Fuck,” Jihoon sighs, blinking his eyes open to find you beaming at him. 

He can only smile wryly at you in response, shaking his head and letting go of your hips to grab you by the waist. 

“Up you go,” he pushes, hefting you up to sit on his keyboard, discordant notes filling the studio until he leans forward and presses mute. 

“Are you su-”

“I’ve literally dreamed about this,” he tells you, for the first time. 

“You have?” You almost sound like you don’t believe him, and Jihoon simply can’t have that.

“Yes. I’ve dreamed about spreading you out on my desk just like this,” he shoulders his way between your legs. “And kissing up these thighs,” he presses his mouth to your soft skin, digging his teeth in only once, though he wants to leave you covered in bite marks. 

“And feeling them squeeze my head when I finally get you on my tongue,” he leans in and licks from your cunt to your clit, fighting a smile when your thighs snap closed just like he knew they would. 

He wants to talk to you more but he can’t pull himself away from your pussy, can’t make his mouth form words when he’s so busy using it on you. And honestly, his priority is keeping it on you, for as long as he possibly can. 

Between work and sleep, he doesn’t get to taste you nearly as often as he wants to, and now that he actually is between work and sleep, he plans on making the most of it. By shoving his tongue inside you over and over, by wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking until you cry, by groaning and humming into you both so you can feel the vibrations and to voice his obsession with your pussy. 

And Jihoon is obsessed with your pussy, make no mistake. If he didn’t love his job so much, he’d quit and spend all his time worshiping you, taking care of you, loving you. He honestly thinks he’d make a killer house husband, and someday, when he retires, he plans on becoming one. 

He can imagine it now, cleaning and working out and sleeping until you come home, then feeding you and fucking you till the sun sets, reading to you and massaging away any soreness before wrapping you up in his arms and falling to sleep together. He can still make music while you’re gone, but he won’t be jetting off or practicing for hours on end anymore. 

He’s not ready for that now, but for a distant dream, it’s pretty enticing. 

Even more enticing is the paradise between your thighs; the taste of you, the scent of you, the feel of you clouding his mind. He can barely breathe but that doesn’t matter, not when you’re moving with his tongue like this, grinding your hips onto his face as he sucks and sucks and sucks at your swollen little clit. 

He wishes he could record the sounds coming out of your mouth, wishes he could play them back to you, watch you squirm and feel you flush at the sheer debauchery of them. It occurs to him that he could, but he’d have to pull away from you enough to ask and he’s unable to do so at the moment. 

You’re just too hot and wet and perfect for him to stop for even a second, so he’ll save that idea for another time and focus on making you cum for him now. He can tell you’re getting close, by the way your thighs shudder against his ears, by the keen you let out when he sucks hard enough to hollow his cheeks, by the hand you sink into his hair to hold him to you, as if he’d ever want to leave. 

All it takes is a groan and a shake of his head and you’re cumming, your arousal leaking all over his chin and dripping down his throat to soak into the neckline of his t-shirt. He’ll take it off as soon as he gains the will to detach himself from you. 

It doesn’t come to him until his eyes travel up your body and catch on the way your tits heave in your sleep tank. He wants to see them, feel them, taste them, bury his face in them. 

Finally, he stands and rips off his shirt, leaning over you and waiting for you to raise your arms before tugging your top off and throwing it to the side. He takes a second to appreciate your bare breasts, the shape and weight of them intoxicating, and then shoves his face between them, licking over to one nipple and opening his mouth around it with a groan. 

He fucking loves your tits, and he shows you just how much with his lips and his teeth and his tongue, one thigh between yours to hold them open for his searching fingers. They find your clit with practiced ease and start to rub staccato circles, chasing you when your hips buck in sensitivity. 

He covers your other breast with his free hand, squeezing and brushing his thumb over your pebbled nipple as he sucks at its twin. You must have already showered, your skin tasting like your honey and cocoa butter lotion, and he can’t get enough, his head filling with clouds and images of you dripping wet and running your hands all over your body. 

He’s gotten you messy again, but he’s sure you knew what you were doing when you knocked on his studio door. This is almost always how you end up when you come to check on him, his hunger for you insatiable, incurable. 

How could he ever get enough of you when you’re this luscious, this sweet, this perfect? His mouth strays from your breast to your stomach, his lips tracing your rolls and stretch marks and cute little belly button before he sinks back down into his chair. He pushes your legs apart with a firm hand and replaces his fingers with his tongue, gliding it over you and sliding his fingers down to your entrance. 

He fills you with them slowly even as your cunt flutters and squeezes, wanting them deeper already. He’ll give you what you want, he always does, but first he’ll tease you a little bit. Not to be mean, or to punish you for something, but because he fucking loves to hear you beg. 

It always takes you a little push to lose your shyness, to find your voice, and this time, his push comes in the form of three fingers stretching your entrance open, sinking in only to the first knuckle. Your hips roll into his hand and his free one flies up to hold them still, his arm banding over your lap to hold you down so he can fill you at his pace. 

He goes much slower than he knows you would prefer, and he presses his smile into your clit when you finally break down. 

“Jihoon, please, I’ve been so good for you,” you whine, and he feels the heat spread from head to toe as he realizes it’s one of those nights. The kind where you need him to take control, to be rough with you, to reward you when you’ve earned it. 

And you have earned it, so he lets his fingers fill you, pushing them in all the way and murmuring into your clit, “You have been good, baby. I’ll give you what you need, promise.”

You just whimper, your head tilting back on your neck when he scissors his fingers apart and your walls clinging to them as he pulls them out to the tip. “Eyes on me, baby.”

He waits for you to return your gaze to his before pushing his fingers back inside of you and beginning to fuck you with them, his lips pursing around your clit and sucking with every thrust. Your pussy is so fucking hot and wet around his fingers, it makes him moan into you, just the thought of feeling you wrapped around his cock enough to reawaken it. 

It twitches in his damp boxers when a curl of his fingers beckons forth a rush of wetness and a sharp keen, one that echoes in his mind like a looped track.  

“Baby, can I record you?” 

He asks before he can stop himself, but now that it’s out in the air, he won’t take it back. He rests his cheek against your thigh as he waits, his heart pounding and his dick throbbing. 

“Um, sure?” You don’t sound certain, and Jihoon doesn’t want you to regret anything. He can always delete them, but he doesn’t want you to do something you’re not comfortable with. 

“You don’t have to say yes, Y/n. I just think it would be… really fucking hot. Having your voice on file, being able to listen to you whenever I want, using your sounds in songs that will never be heard by anyone but us.”

You squirm under his forearm and clench around his fingers, and he believes you when you say, “Do it, Jihoon. Record me.”

His lips stretch in a broad, genuine smile and he reaches for the computer mouse, opening his recording software and clicking the red button. 

He watches little waves form on the baseline, curls his fingers, grinds them into the rough patch inside of you, and arches an eyebrow. You gasp weakly, seemingly shy now that your noises are being picked up by something other than his ears. 

Jihoon can be patient though, knows that soon enough, he’ll make you forget all about it. 

You’re still being good, holding eye contact and keeping your thighs spread for him, so he rewards you with his mouth around your clit, a heavy suck startling a moan from your parted lips. He fights a smile, his lips pursing and pulling at the swollen bundle of nerves, and starts to hum, knowing you love the vibrations. 

He can’t see the software from here but the wave must spike because you let out a sharp cry, your nails scratching at the edge of his desk until he takes your hands and puts them on his head. Your fingers delve into his hair and you pull his face into your pussy, and he knows he’s got you. 

He didn’t really consider the mic picking up his own noises but he’s sure it is, his grunts and groans audible even with your thighs pressed to his ears. He can’t stop though, can’t hold them in when you taste so fucking good, when your cunt is searing hot and soaking wet under his mouth, when your nails are scratching at his scalp and sending zaps of electricity down his spine. 

They all end in his cock, and he feels it jerk against the waistband of his boxers. He’s tired of them, removes his arm from your hips to shove them and his pants down, groaning loudly when his cock pops out into the open air. It’s sticky with cum and hard enough to hurt, and he can’t resist taking hold of it with his free hand, squeezing hard at the base to ease some of the ache. 

His fingers thrust into you as he strokes his dick, the slick sounds loud in his studio, and you crane your neck, your eyes searching until they find his hand at work. 

“Fuck, Jihoon, I want you inside of me,” you whine breathlessly, trying to pull him off your cunt by the hair. That just makes him moan into you, makes his cock jump in his grasp, makes him fuck his fingers into you harder. 

“Cum for me first,” he demands, determined to get at least two orgasms on this file for mixing purposes. It seems he’s still a producer even when he’s trying to just be a boyfriend. 

You pout but listen well, your cries reaching a fever pitch as your pussy flutters around his fingers, arousal spilling out of you and dripping between the keys of his keyboard. He may have to buy a new one, but that’s a problem for future Jihoon, and a problem he would be lucky to have. 

“Perfect, baby, that was perfect,” he murmurs in a low tone, wanting your voice to be the focal point. 

“Will you fuck me now?” You pant, reaching down to smooth your fingers over the head of his cock, making him shiver and swallow a groan. 

“Yeah, baby, I’ll fuck you now,” he whispers, standing from the chair and pulling away from you to tug you off his desk. Your knees shake when you get your feet under you and he smirks, cupping your cheek and pressing a kiss to your lips before taking you by the hips and turning you around. 

He squeezes your shoulder and starts pushing you down, letting you bend over the rest of the way by yourself. You fold your arms under your head, resting your cheek on them so you can watch as he guides his dick to your cunt and sinks inside. 

You’re stretched out enough to take him easily, your walls forming to his cock and gripping it tightly. You’re such a perfect fucking fit for him, it’s like you were made for one another, like your bodies were designed to match. It blows his mind every single time he has the privilege of being inside of you. 

He’s reluctant to leave you and you’re reluctant to let him, but pulling out means he can thrust back in. He keeps one hand on your shoulder and drops the other to your hip, clutching at it like a lifeline as he starts to fuck you in earnest. 

His hips smack into your plush ass rhythmically, the sound causing sharp spikes on the waveform graph and acting as the perfect percussion to the moans and whimpers escaping you. The mic is right by your mouth and he knows they’re being picked up beautifully, butterflies gathering in his stomach just at the thought of getting to hear them through his headphones. 

“Sound so fuckin’ pretty, baby,” he grunts, angling his hips up to hit your g-spot and smirking when you yelp at the sensation. Your back arches, your stomach pressing into his keyboard and your hips pressing into his, and he just holds you tighter, fucks into you harder. 

Your pussy undulates around him as his hand slides from your shoulder to join the other at your hip, both of them gripping your ass and spreading you apart so he can watch his cock enter you again and again. It’s a sight he’ll never get tired of, a feeling he’ll never get used to, a gift he’ll never truly deserve. 

It’s what will send him over the edge, just as long as he makes you fall first. He already came before you once and he doesn’t plan on doing so again for a long time, but he needs to get you there soon or he won’t have a choice. 

One of his hands slips around your waist to dive between your legs, his fingers finding your sensitive clit and starting to strum it as he fills you over and over. You whimper and tremble against him, your cunt fluttering wildly around his aching cock and your hand flying down to grasp his wrist like you think he’ll pull away. 

He doesn’t intend to, honestly wouldn’t mind being attached to you like this for the rest of his life, knows already that he wants to spend it with you. 

His fingers get rougher on your clit and his hips move on autopilot as his brain empties, his balls aching to do the same. “Please cum, fuck. Baby, please fucking cum.”

Jihoon should have known he’d be the one begging you at the end of the night. 

Thankfully, you like to indulge him, your pussy locking him in place as you cum with a loud cry, followed by gasping sobs of his name when he doesn’t stop fucking you. He’s right there, he’s right fucking-

“Jihoon, cum inside me. Fill me up, I want it,” you whimper, pressing your ass into his hips and squeezing your inner muscles around his throbbing cock, and that’s the end for him. 

He drops down to cover your body with his as he breaks apart, his own moans and whimpers registering on the graph alongside yours and his cum flooding into you in pulses. His hand leaves your clit so he can wrap his arm around your waist in a hug, his cheek pressed to your back and his other hand finding yours. 

He tangles your fingers together and rises up, pulling you with him and sitting heavily in his chair. He’s still hard enough his cock doesn’t slip out, and he leans you to the side so he can cup your cheek and turn your face into his, pressing his lips to yours in an openmouthed kiss. 

“Love you, baby,” he whispers into your mouth, waiting for you to say it back before kissing his way to your neck and biting down gently, just enough to leave an indent of his teeth behind. 

“Will you come to bed with me?” You whisper in a small voice, and he returns his lips to yours, kissing you deeply and responding, “Of course, baby.” 

He reaches a hand out and stops the recording, saving the file to his private hard drive, ideas filling his head already. They can wait until the morning though, you asked him to go to bed with you and go to bed he will. 

Jihoon thinks this might be the most productive break he’s ever had. 

AN: this one's for all the jihoon stans who have been thirsting with me lately 💖

My Masterlist

My Chubby!Reader Masterlist

#svthub #k vanity #lee jihoon smut #woozi smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #kpop smut #woozi x reader #woozi scenarios #woozi imagines #lee jihoon x reader #lee jihoon scenarios #lee jihoon x you #lee jihoon imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen fic #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop oneshots #✨emily writes✨ #✨em's ults✨ #chubby reader #woozi x chubby!reader #jihoon x chubby!reader #seventeen x chubby!reader #seventeen x chubby reader

[wisteriaiswriting]

Okay, I read something about moths going kinda crazy during mating season. It's especially crazy for the males. Can I request Valentino smut with his favorite female porn star reader?

𝕄𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕊𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕠𝕟

Words: 872

Warnings: GN!Reader | Smut [Eating out, rimming, fucking, degrading]

Valentino knew what was approaching, every year he tried to ignore it as no one was good enough to spend it with him. His mating season was a sensitive time, meaning a lot of things could go wrong.

But this year someone had caught his attention. It was you, one of his newer contracts on the scene, quickly becoming a fan favourite, and he sees why. So he makes the decision to have you help him.

Unluckily though you were pretty dense to his advancements, unsurprisingly due to the fact he was a moth and you weren’t. But still, at least you could acknowledge him.

***

Fuck.

Mating season had officially started, and it was hitting him hard.

“EVERYONE OUT!” His screaming shocked everyone, also sending them all rushing out. You were at the back of the group, wich let him grab your collar to pull you towards him.

“Not you babe,” As he spoke smoke swirled around you both, a lot more seeping out this time. “You get the honour of helping me tonight~”

Holding you as he started walking, turning into stumbling. The first time he hit a wall you were pulled to his chest. Soon enough he opened the doors to the nearest room, revealing it to be one of the bigger studios.

Passing the chairs and equipment to drop you on the bed, following by dropping onto his knees. Hands kneading your thighs, sliding up to your waist. His breathing became harsher during this, red smoke circling the area.

Sitting up before pulling you closer, fingers finding their way under the waistband of your pants and underwear. Staying still for a few seconds before pulling away, ripping both.. Quickly pulling them off, throwing them onto the floor somewhere.

“I’ll buy you better ones, just let me…” His words faded as he became less focused. More smoke was puffed out and into the room as his mouth opened, letting his tongue out.

Leaning closer to let it move along your thigh, quickly moving up. Although it couldn’t go much further due to your position. Arms wormed their way under your legs, using one pair of arms to hold you up.

Strong enough to not let you drop any lower than needed, which was up near his face. Allowing his tongue to get where it needed, leaving the area with a tingly feeling.

Not moving in immediately, instead running along the outside. Letting your muscles relax before he moved in, your tensing didn’t have any visual effect on him. Everything for him felt doubled, so even the slightest movement had him jolting.

So when your legs wrapped around over his shoulders, hands grasping at his hat. That seemed to flip a switch in his mind. One pair of arms reached up to remove your legs, while another hand pulled yours off.

Controlled yet dropping you onto the bed again, this time making you lay down. His hand on yours didn’t leave, instead intertwining them. With your legs, his hands had moved down to your ankles. Moving them onto his shoulders.

He had started huffing, even though more smoke left his mouth it stopped affecting you. Instead filling the room and leaving you unable to see him unless he was in your face, which you wouldn’t mind either way.

His fourth and open hand held his cock, making sure he has a smooth entrance. Which he did, once he was in he let you adjust. When you were good he picked up the pace instantly.

From just quick to slamming into you. His hands left your ankles to hold your waist, with how hard they were grabbing you would surely have bruises later. Only able to accept him.

He kept pounding until his glasses fell off, rushingly placing them onto your head. Even with his hand holding yours it didn’t stop you from moving at each thrust, never stopping him. Only going harder.

“That's what you like huh? Course it is you slut!” At these words he leaned forwards, taking a sniff at your collarbone. You smelled like him now, no one could ever confuse you for one of his other sluts, you’re his now.

Letting his teeth sink into your flesh after, not that you minded. He tasted your blood, which was almost sickeningly sweet for someone stuck in hell, especially stuck with him.

During this his pace never slowed or even stuttered. Causing both of you to get closer to your orgasms. At this point Valentino had lost almost all his focus.

The light above was soon shut out, due to his wings making an appearance. Which also revealed the button up underneath, giving you something to grab onto.

Hands reaching to grab bunches, in turn pulling him closer. Your nails, ones Valentino has you care for, threatened to rip the shirt. Although neither of you cared in the moment, he might later. But you didn’t care.

“There we go, cum for me Luz~” At his words you did, the air was filled with both of you huffing. You were trying to get air back into your lungs, while he looked down at you. Taking in this image.

Maybe he’ll start caring for mating seasons if you’ll stay with him.

***

Luz - Light

#hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino x reader #valentino smut #wisteria♥

[tightjeansjavi]

The Rite of Movement | part two

“first impressions”

part one | honeymoonin’

A/N: well, well, well, fancy that we’re all meeting up here, huh? 🥵 first, I just wanted to give a big thank you to @itsokbbygrl who has been feeding my brain rot all day. I appreciate you so so much and your input is extremely helpful 🥺 I do not have a lot of knowledge on the adult film industry, but I’m eager to dive into it with y’all. We all have our different preferences and tastes when it comes to porn, (if you choose to watch it) but for me personally, I’m into porn that is catered to women. And guess who else is? Joel fuckin’ Miller! I hope these impromptu drabbles give you all the warm, fuzzy, and hornknee feelings. In this household, we support sex workers 💗 we also support healthy communication during sex, safe sex, and sexual liberation for everyone. Thank u also to @strang3lov3 for the title 🤍

~word count: 5.0k~

Summary: it’s your first time meeting Joel Miller, your new adult film partner

Pairing | pornstar!joel miller x pornstar f!reader (and a sprinkle of pornstar!tommy miller. More to come in later chapters!)

Warnings: 30s reader/40s joel, general discussions of the porn industry, brief discussions of workplace trauma, mild swearing, kissing, slightly inappropriate workplace relationship, boss/employee power dynamic but it’s only lightly explored in this chapter, voyeurism, light smut, f!masturbation, reader has no physical descriptions, mentions of cigarettes and alcohol consumption, +18, minors dni! Let me know if I missed anything!

When you moved back to Austin Texas looking for a fresh start after a rather rocky experience doing unsatisfying pornos as a regular on screen talent for the mega studio, Brazzers, you never expected to rejoin the industry through a professional studio. After being fired, you settled on making solo amateur films in an attempt to pay your bills and make ends meet. The only problem was rent in LA was nowhere near affordable, and the pay was significantly less than you’d been bringing in from the studio. That’s when you made the decision to leave the state of California entirely, looking eastward towards a once-familiar home.

Your roots were in rural Texas, and although your parents ultimately disowned you for joining the adult film industry, you still had a support group of fellow transplants in Austin that had missed you terribly.

The porn industry was always evolving, but with these changes came an influx of new content. You had a decent following for a small time account, but without the promotion budget that came with films produced at larger studios, your homemade solo films were inevitably pushed to the bottom of the pecking order, making it difficult to expand your audience. You thought about quitting entirely and getting an everyday job as a receptionist at some corporate office, until one night you stumbled upon a channel account that was based in Austin. “Miller-Co, Real people, real sex, professionally produced for your pleasure.” Surrounded by unpacked moving boxes on your single, sad, sofa, you poured yourself a tall glass of wine and clicked on the first video that appeared on the channel’s page, its male lead catching your eye immediately and you clicked the video details to find his name.

Joel Miller was big in every possible sense. From his hands, to his biceps, to his strong thighs. His cock was stunning. It wasn’t the longest cock you had ever seen, but it was deliciously thick, a girth that had you salivating immediately. Not only was it big, but the more you watched, the more you learned he sure knew how to use it. Despite Joel’s brooding nature, his attentive care to his partners on screen was something you had never seen before. He was a talker, a praiser and it seemed he only did scenes in positions where he could see his partners face while they came. The studio lighting was softer, inviting, and very, very intimate.

You clicked through more videos. Joel’s apparent brother, Tommy Miller, was also a big talker, but he reminded you more of a sweet frat boy with some serious golden retriever energy. In simple terms, Tommy liked to pound it. His style seemed more physically intense and fun, lighthearted even. He could do more sensual, intimacy based scenes, but that was more Joel’s forte, you gleaned as you continued to consume their content. Tommy’s cock had an inch or so on his brother, but his cock wasn’t as thick. What it lacked it girth it made up for with how it was curved, and you could only imagine how easy it would be for him to hit that spot inside of you that sent you keening.

The more you watched these two brothers in their element, the damper your flimsy panties grew. It had been so long since you had gotten off while watching porn that you weren’t even sure if you could have a successful orgasm from it. Boy, were you wrong.

Your clit was soon overstimulated and pulsing beneath the soft silicon of your vibrator. You tossed the toy to the side and paused the video while you caught your breath for a few minutes, coming down from your high. A sense of post-orgasmic clarity settled in your mind and something was telling you that working for this channel’s studio might end up being your calling. A wonderful, horny twist of fate. Your ticket back into the industry that had left you both emotionally and physically bruised.

You couldn’t help the gleeful giggle that slipped past your lips the further you scrolled down the channel’s main page, looking for information on Miller-Co’s parent studio, and discovered a link at the bottom: Auditions.

You scrambled to update your resumé, and threw together a portfolio of your past work and clicked on the link. You submitted your application and downed the rest of your wine before closing the screen to your laptop with a decompressing sigh.

No one could say that you didn’t try.

On the other side of town Joel Miller was just closing up the studio for the evening to meet Tommy at their usual watering hole for a drink. His phone buzzed, notifying him that he had a new email and while he walked to his truck, he opened the email.

He had been recently looking for a new film partner outside of his current talent pool. Things were going well at his and Tommy’s boutique adult film studio, they were starting to see growth, and that meant making sure there was regularly fresh content for their growing audience.

Despite receiving 100s of applicants a day from his online posting on his studio’s PornHub channel, none of them were quite what Joel was looking for..until he opened up your application. Joel got a sudden overwhelming feeling in his chest that you were exactly the type of on-screen partner he was looking for. He exited out of the email and sent a quick text to Tommy. Hey, I'm gonna be a few minutes late. Got an applicant that I think will be perfect.

After sending the text to his brother, he opened the email once more. Your resumé was brief, and a noticeable frown crossed over his face when he saw that you were ex-Brazzers. When Joel was 18 and fresh to the industry, he worked for Brazzers. Being so green, he hadn’t known what exactly to expect, so he suffered through in the name of independence and regular pay, but he had hated it, and especially hated the way it made him feel. The culture there had led him to never wanting to partake in making that type of porn again. There was no emphasis on the comfort of his female partners, little to no communication between the actors, and Joel ultimately was uncomfortable with following through with the things he was requested to do. Half the time it didn’t even feel good. And what the hell is the point of making porn if both participants aren’t having fun and feeling pleasure?

For this reason, he felt wrong viewing the content that you had made with Brazzers. Given his prior experience, he could only imagine what you had gone through, and he didn’t want to see you that way. His business was solely based around respect, consent, and comfort as a top priority.

He opted to view your solo amateur content instead. You were a natural, and he knew that he could easily make you a star, if that’s what you truly wanted. Joel knew that mixing pleasure with business, in this industry in particular, could end up messy, but he never felt so physically and emotionally attracted to another human being till now.

His fingers worked fast on the screen as he responded to the email.

Hello,

It’s after working hours for me, but I just went over your application. You’re a natural, and I would be extremely interested in meeting for an official audition. Here is the address to the studio, and my personal work number.

I am off tomorrow, but if you are interested, I can go ahead and schedule a meeting for noon?

Looking forward to hearing from you,

Joel Miller.

He receives an email response from you five minutes later just when he starts the engine of his truck.

Hello Joel,

I would absolutely be interested in coming in for an official audition tomorrow. Noon works for me as well.

See you then!

He lets out a sigh of relief at your response and despite his goal to remain professional, he can’t help the flush that rises to his cheeks at the thought of filming with you. He sends a calendar invite to your email address with the meeting time of noon tomorrow. He tosses his phone into the cup holder and finally drives to the bar.

“She’s ex-Brazzers. Moved all the way from LA just like you and me.” Joel discusses with Tommy over a beer. He takes a sip from the rim and slides his phone across the table to the opposite end of the booth where Tommy is sitting.

“And she’s only been doing solo amateur content as of late?”

“Yeah, she’s only got a few videos up, but it sounds like she’s ready to dip her toe back into the industry. She’s a natural, Tommy. Real captivatin’ on camera.”

Tommy glances down at your application and lightly taps out a bit of ash from his cigarette in the ashtray resting near his elbow. “That so? Well, guess I’m just gonna have to see for myself jus’ how captivatin’ she is.” He looked over at his brother with a knowing grin and pulled out his earbuds from his jacket pocket and slipped them in.

Joel intently observes his brother watching one of your solo films and when he sees Tommy reach down to adjust himself, he couldn’t help but grin.

Tommy’s cheeks have a bright flush to them as he hits pause on the video, taking out one of the earbuds and makes direct eye contact with his brother. “Holy fuck, she’s gorgeous. Those eyes? Brother, I feel like I was being sucked into the screen! God, and her little whimpers? The way they kept gettin’ higher and higher—” Tommy said animatedly.

Joel feels a twinge of jealousy zip up his spine like he was shocked. Tommy’s never been shy, and neither has Joel, but he’s already feeling protective over you and he hasn’t even met you yet. “Yeah, she is a thing of beauty, ain’t she? I don’t know what it is about her, but I love her energy.” Joel comments thoughtfully.

Tommy, being the horndog that he is, can't help but look back down at the screen and the part where the video has paused. Your thighs are spread wide, fingers playing with your clit, teasing yourself while making occasional direct eye contact with the camera. “And god, that pussy? Y’ever see somethin’ so pretty? Bet she tastes like fuckin’ honey.” Tommy drawls.

“Tommy.” Joel snaps his fingers in front of his face in a quick motion. “Don’t go gettin’ too excited now. I’m the one meetin’ with her.” Joel gently reminds him.

“Well, I can see why ya like her so much already, Joel.” He winks and slides the phone back in his direction. “Don’t go gettin’ your panties in a twist. I think just based on this single video, she’s gonna be a good fit. On a serious note, I hope that Brazzers didn’t fuck her up too much.” He reaches for his beer and takes a sip.

“It’s her energy man, it’s infectious. She seems so gentle, soft, but you can tell that she knows exactly what she wants just by looking into her eyes alone.” Joel said rather dreamily.

“Y’gonna give ‘er the ole Joel Miller razzle dazzle then?” Tommy wiggled his eyebrows playfully with a chuckle.

Joel rolled his eyes and flipped him off before taking another sip of his beer. “All depends on her comfort level during our first interaction. I want her to know that she gets to call all the shots.”

Tommy tips his beer towards Joel in a mock salute. “And yet they say chivalry is dead.”

At first you wonder if Miller-Co is just another too good to be true scam and Joel had played you, providing you with the wrong address on purpose. Maybe this was a sign for you to never try studio work in the adult film industry again. You were standing outside of a hardware store, triple checking the address while simultaneously looking up at the sign: Miller-Co

Joel is sitting behind his desk when he sees you teetering around outside. He checks the time on his watch—quarter to noon—and smiles. He’s a punctual person himself and always had this philosophy of showing up earlier than planned out of respect for everyone’s valuable time.

He gets up from his desk and walks towards the door just as you’re turning on your heel to walk away.

The door swings open behind you with a sweet chime, and then you hear the raspy timbre of his voice, his smooth southern accent that already has you feeling weak in the knees.

“Are you my 12 o’clock?” He grins a boyish grin that oozes a level of natural confidence and charm that men dream of possessing.

“Oh.” You laugh and fiddle with the strap on your purse. “I totally thought I had the wrong place for a second there.”

“Sorry ‘bout the confusion, darlin.’ Folks ‘round these parts can be…sensitive to what we’re doing here. Gotta be sure they ain’t have a clue what they’re walkin’ by, be discreet, y’know?” He holds the door open with his shoulder effortlessly, and you get a good look at his handsome features. Joel Miller is tall, well-groomed, and there’s something immediately comforting about him. You can’t quite put your finger on what that thing is, but it might have to do with the selfless energy that radiates from the depths of his soft, espresso colored eyes. Or maybe it’s the endearing heart-shaped patches in his gray speckled beard.

“Oh, thank god!” You laugh again, hoping he didn’t notice your staring, and he chuckles. Something flickers in your eyes that Joel registers as unabashed curiosity. He clocks the slight hitch of your breath, your pupils dilating.

“I take it you’re probably used to dingy warehouses, unkempt garages, and the occasional sketchy office building?” Joel quips. He slips one of his hands into the faded pocket of his denim jeans.

“Yeah, how did you know?” You retort with false sarcasm and a small smile.

He shrugs his shoulders. “Lucky guess?”

“Well, you didn’t not hit the nail on the head, Mr. Miller.”

You swear you see him blush, the tops of his cheeks turning a flushed pink color. “Oh, please, call me Joel, darlin’. Mr. Miller makes me feel so..old.” He laughs and subtly gestures to the open door. “And hope ya don’t mind me sayin’ this, but ain’t you jus’ the sweetest n’ prettiest thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of layin’ my eyes on.” He winks. “Shall we?”

“Oh, please, you aren’t old at all, Joel,” you brush away his self deprecation as his compliment leaves you feeling flustered, the heat beginning to rise to your cheeks. “So, your videos weren’t lying then? You really are a sweet talker?” You flirt back.

“Some days I feel like I am, got a bad back and ‘a that. And, oh, I am quite the sweet talker, darlin’.” He holds the door open for you as you slip past him, brushing up against the rough denim of his jeans due to his sheer mass taking up most of the entryway.

Your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach when your eyes zone in on an all-to familiar black leather couch pressed up against the side of the wall. He notices your immediate discomfort and hesitation and clears his throat alongside you. “We uh—don’t film anythin’ on that, darlin’. It’s there more as a joke than anythin’.”

He sees you visibly let out a sigh of relief as your shoulders relax. You don’t see his face, but his lips are set in a deep frown and he genuinely feels bad. “There’s no leather couches or bright, headache inducin’ lights where I film, darlin’,” he adds softly and steps around you to pull back the chair at his desk.

You’re not even sure what to think or say as he pulls the chair back and you quietly sit down and watch as he sits across from you. “Hey, before we get into talkin’ business, I’m aware that you worked for Brazzers at one point, saw it on the application you submitted, and I jus’ wanted to let you know that me sayin’ ‘lucky guess’ back there was to ease your nerves. I understand what it’s like coming from that world, could tell that you were feelin’ a bit apprehensive, and I didn’t wanna jump right on into discussing your portfolio out in the open, y’know?” He held steady eye contact with you which was something that you normally would be intimidated by, but Joel wasn’t trying to make you feel small, his concern was genuine.

“It’s just been awhile for me since working there, but I appreciate you trying to ease the tension, Joel. I swear I’m not always this jumpy,” you add softly and he smiles.

“S’alright. I understand. I jus’ wanna start off by sayin’ that I want you to be comfortable, darlin’. That’s our first priority. We can film in the studio if you want. Now, personally, I never film here. All feels a bit too sterile for me; got a set up at home to film there. Feels more natural, but if you would rather be here, we can make that work.” He clicks a few buttons on the desktop mouse and pulls up your application so he has it to directly reference.

“Your first priority is that you want me to be comfortable?” The question tumbles past your lips and your pupils are blown wide. In past jobs your comfort was always pushed to the very bottom. It was viewed as insignificant and something that you were told you’d just have to suck up and get over. There was always a limited budget, which meant limited time, which meant little care given to anything other than hard and fast, turn and burn shoot days. And the studio executives cared about little except increasing profits year over year, so time and time again, you’d endured a lack of connection with your scene partners and set crew alike, never more than a quick direction thrown your way. No, comfortable was a far cry from what you were used to.

He’s not taken aback by your response at all. It’s something that he’s all-too familiar with, unfortunately. “Of course, darlin’. That’s the key to makin’ good porn, ain’t it? Both parties gotta be comfortable, otherwise the audience won’t feel connected to what they’re viewin’. All sex sells, but intimacy sells more.”

“I’m just not used to this kind of treatment, Joel. I honestly didn’t even believe that it existed in the adult film industry. The whole notion of comfort above all is just…new for me.”

“I know it is, darlin’,” Joel takes a breath before continuing, “I’m ex-Brazzers, too. Started there when I was 18, and left on my 30th birthday.” This was a piece of Joel’s past that was especially private, it came with baggage he still wasn’t entirely ready to unpack, and yet sharing this with you felt comforting for him.

“Oh my god, did they fire you too?” You lean forward in your chair feeling shocked that someone else in the industry shared the same awful experience as you did.

Joel’s heart shatters when he learns that you were fired. It makes him angry for you and the other women in the industry that were often released from their contracts for frivolous reasons. How could they let someone like you go? You have all the potential in the world with real, raw, talent, and on top of that, you were an absolute knockout. Those motherfuckers had a goldmine with you, and yet they couldn’t see what Joel sees.

“No, darlin’,” he frowns, “they didn’t. My brother and I made the decision to quit on our own. We stayed in LA for awhile with some old costars and made some amateur films before we moved back home to Austin, and started our own studio. I’ve strived to make porn that is catered to women. It’s a market that’s been largely untapped, and I’m lookin’ to shift the industry by showing how profitable it is,” he explains honestly. “And folks deserve to see real sex full of connection and intimacy and even sometimes some bloopers,” he chuckles. “It’s something that I’m incredibly passionate about, and that’s why it’s my utmost priority to make sure that you are respected and feel comfortable.”

You shrink in on yourself when the wave of sudden emotions hit and you don’t even realize your crying till Joel is getting up in a haste with a few tissues in his hand. His eyes are laced with concern as he crouches in front of you. “Hey, I’m sorry, darlin’. Didn’t mean t’make ya cry. I jus’—know how harmful the industry can be, and ‘m tryin’ to build a safe space within it.”

Fat tears begin to roll down your cheeks as you try to laugh through the tears. You feel pathetic for breaking down in front of this man who you have only just met. He must think you’re a lost cause in the industry if you can’t even hold yourself together for more than five minutes. You sniffle as he gently brings the tissue upwards towards your face and gently brushes away your tears. “I’m sorry, Joel. I don’t mean to turn into this blubbering fuckin’ mess.”

“Hey, ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for, darlin’,” he coos. “Maybe we wanna get outta here for some fresh air? If you’d like? Know a nice quiet coffee shop jus’ down the street. How do you feel about that?”

You look at him through wet lashes and parted lips when you slowly nod. “Uh—yeah. That would..be great. I’m just not exactly comfortable in this environment,” you murmur.

“I understand. No hard feelin’s taken or anythin’. Would you like some help gettin’ up?” He offers you his freehand.

“You’re not..upset?” You question softly and grasp his hand in your palm as he gently helps you up from the chair. His palm is warm against yours and massive in size.

“Upset? No, not at all. I meant it when I said that your comfort is a priority, darlin.’” He affirms.

After you’ve composed yourself a bit, you let Joel lead the way to the quiet coffee shop down the street. He holds the door open for you and lets you pick a secluded table in the back. When you offer to pay for the coffees, he interjects with a small grin and shakes his head. “S’on me, darlin’. G’on now and make yourself comfy,” he nudges you gently towards the table.

It’s a depressing thought to have, but you think about how no man has ever treated you with the kindness and respect that Joel Miller has thus far. It’s the bare minimum, but you appreciate him for it deeply.

He returns with two lattes and places them on the table before taking a seat across from you. “Y’jus’ let me know when and if you wanna continue the conversation, alright? There’s no rush. I ain’t got anywhere else to be.”

You grasp the mug between your palms and let the warm steam wafting from the mug kiss your skin as you look over at him. “Well, I figured it would be okay with me to share with you a list of things I’m not comfortable with?” You lean over the side of the chair and reach into your purse to pull out a folded up piece of paper that you drafted up after submitting the application last night.

He nods and takes a sip of his latte. “Of course that’s okay for you to do. I’ve got a form for you to sign back at the studio that includes a section disclosing your limitations and your personal comforts. We like to keep it on file so we can prepare everyone before shoot day, that way there ain’t any accidental crossed boundaries.” He reaches across the table and gently takes the paper from you.

Despite everything Joel has told you thus far, you’re afraid that he’ll end up being judgemental based on your list. It’s pretty much everything that mainstream porn runs on: bondage, punishment, gang bangs, overstimulation, and anal to name a few. You’re already thinking of getting up from the table, and protecting what’s left of your ego when he sets the paper down, reaches for your hand, gently picks it up and kisses the back of it while looking into your eyes. “This is it? We can absolutely work with this, darlin’. Don’t you worry none,” he reassures you.

His lips against your skin are like two plush pillows. Soft, silky and it’s hard to not imagine what those lips would feel like pressed against either of your own. You expected shame, and instead were greeted with the complete opposite. He validated you, and that alone was making your head spin like a ferris wheel.

“I know you ain’t have any pleasant experiences in the industry, and that’s a damn shame. But I can promise you that you won’t have to worry about none of that with me. Okay, darlin’? Sweet girl, I’m gonna be honest with ya because that’s jus’ the kind of man I am. Y’got some serious talent that I think has been severely overlooked. I can make you into a real star if that’s what you want. I’m simply jus’ actin’ as a guideway for ya. And between you and me? I love my job, and I hope that maybe I’ll be able to turn those bad experiences you had into somethin’ good.”

Your eyes focus on his lips and their movement with each word that flows past them. Neither of you realize how close you’re leaning over the table till you can practically taste the hazelnut latte lingering on his tongue.

“Joel, I swear I heard every word you just said, and please tell me if I’m being unprofessional given the circumstances, but I really want to kiss you right now,” you breathe.

His brow raises and a dimple pokes through his cheek as a grin tugs across the corner of his lips. He chuckles softly, “Well, lucky for you, it’s totally appropriate given the circumstances. Jus’ one of the many perks of bein’ in this industry, darlin’. Unbridled desire is personally one of my favorite things.” He leans in closer, his tone dropping down to an octave that made you tingle with desire, and admits quietly, just for you, “If we weren’t here in this coffee shop right now, I’d show you just how unbridled my desire can be.”

You gripped the edge of the table for dear life. It took everything in you to not rip that man’s clothes off right then and there. That part of you that had laid so dormant was crackling to life again, and he could see those emotions swirling in your eyes. “Maybe we should get those papers signed so that you can show me if you’re really just all talk?” Your brow quirked upwards, mouth lifting into a flirtatious smirk just as his nose brushed against your own.

“Think you’ve seen enough to me to know that I ain’t bluffin’, darlin’.” His hot breath fans your lips as you reach across the table and rest a hand on his shoulder, the other steadying your balance on the table. Joel lifts his hand to your face and gently guides you by your chin. His lips brush yours, testing the waters while your tongue swipes confidently at his lower lip. He surges forward, hand moving from your chin to cup your face where your jaw meets your neck and deepens the kiss. You unconsciously let a soft moan loose, lost in the feeling, and Joel feels his cock come to life at the sound. It’s a good thing the barista behind the counter is too busy watching a YouTube video to see you and Joel practically gorging on each other's faces.

You can feel him smiling against your mouth before he leaves you with a final press of his lips and pulls back, sitting back in his chair, shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he brings his thumb up to the corner of his lips and wipes away a stray strand of saliva. “Think I’m gonna get a little somethin’ to eat. Y’want anythin’?” He rasps and reaches for his wallet in his pocket.

“Yeah.” You grin and rest your chin in your palms. “Something..sweet.”

A flush rises to his cheeks as he stands up from the chair and discreetly adjusts himself in his jeans and you giggle at the sight. You’d think it was his first rodeo by how quickly he had grown hard from just kissing you. Then again, Joel did say that he loved his job. And if he treated the less significant parts of his job like that, you were more than looking forward to seeing, feeling, him do the other parts of his job he loved, too.

You sat in that coffee shop for hours getting to know one another. It felt like no time had gone by at all, and it was obvious that you both were feeling that spark of an immediate connection blossoming. There was no denial that you and Joel were physically attracted to one another, but you had no idea what doors were now opened because of this first meeting. The chemistry was palpable, electricity ricocheting off the walls, and that unspoken language between one another was apparent.

“Hey, Joel? I think I’m ready to sign those forms now,” you spoke, wading through the building sexual tension.

“Perfect.” He grins. “Let’s go n’get ‘em signed.” He pats your thigh gently.

Once you’re back in the studio, Joel goes over every section of the documents and answers every single one of your questions with direct thoughtfulness and professionalism. You can hear your pulse beating in your ears when you sign the last page, clenching your thighs to abate the need growing between your legs.

“Now, there’s no rush to filmin’ anythin’ right away, okay? We don’t gotta dive head first if you wanna go home and process all of this, I completely understand. But, if you’re interested, I can give you my address and we can—”

“How about you drive me to your place instead?” You coyly interjected with a grin.

banners made by the lovely @saradika ��

I no longer have a taglist so follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic updates and notifications

#fic: first impressions #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel x you #joel x female reader #joel x f!reader #joel miller series #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pornstar!joel miller #soft!joel miller #joel and tommy #tommy miller #tommy miller fanfiction

[herarcadewasteland]

.mp3

A/N: here it issssss. brought forth by this! hope you enjoy!

~~~~~~~~

SMUT MDNI 18+

Song Mingi x Reader ft. Hongjoong

warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), recorded sex, humiliation kinda, exhibitionism kinda, creampie sorta

------------------------

It was normal for Mingi to call you into Hongjoong's studio, the sound proofed room, a forbidden sanctuary you visited often with your boyfriend. It was well known through the building that Hongjoong’s studio was a sacred place and you were to never go in unless you were invited. Or you were Mingi.

Which is how you often found yourself in the same position you were currently in, bent over the captains desk as Mingi thrust into you. Now, don’t get him wrong, Mingi did know there could be serious trouble if he forgot to either lock the door behind you or just blatantly ignored his leader's schedule. The risk made it that much more interesting for him. Your sex life was eventful but sometimes, you just needed that extra risk to spice things up when it was too vanilla for the two of you. So, here you were. Your boyfriend's cock hitting you just right as you whimpered into the microphone on the large, endearingly cluttered desk. Mingi had pushed you down right beside it, your nerves increasing with your arousal at the possibility of accidentally hitting record. It spiked your pleasure so much you failed to notice the small blinking red light on a monitor off to your side, your eyes closing in pleasure as Mingi grunted behind you, your hands caged by his on the small of your back. 

“Such a good fucking girl, taking my cock on Hongjoong’s desk. He could walk in, y’know?”, his hips snap into yours harshly as he leans down to whisper in your ear, “I didn’t lock the door.”

Your eyes snapped open and shot to the lock on the large, icy glass door, the lock sitting mockingly unlocked as you whined. Your pussy clenched around Mingi’s length, his grunt hitting you in all the right places as you twitched in his hold, his hips bruising your ass. Your eyes closed quickly, his hand wrapping around your front to pinch and tug lightly at your nipples, whines passing through your parted lips as he thrust into you with more precision. The wet sounds of your pussy echoed around the room, somewhere in the back of your mind thanking any god that the room was soundproofed to the outside. The shadows of people passing the door reached you from behind your closed eyelids, teeth biting at your lip when Mingi took the chance to slip his hand further down your body to rub quick circles on your clit. Your moans came faster and louder, spurring Mingi on to snap his hips just right, brushing the head of his cock against your sweet spot as he moaned into the room, head tossed back. 

Glancing up to the array of monitors shaking in front of you, you caught Mingi’s reflection. The sweat you could shining on his temple as his hair stuck to his forehead, his toned stomach flexing with every sinful movement against you and his hips mocking you as they moved to create the pleasure you felt… it pushed you over the edge, your eyes slamming shut as you came around his cock. His grunts got deeper as he thrust into you a few more times, the spasms of your walls sending him plummeting over the edge of his own orgasm, his cum painting your insides white with warmth as you panted for breath. A small click distracted you quickly, worrying Hongjoong had opened his studio door and you had been caught fucking in his precious studio. Looking quickly that way proved your thoughts wrong, the door still firmly shut albeit unlocked. 

“Mingi?”

“Yeah baby?”

“What was that?”

“What was what?”, his eyebrow raised at you through the reflection of the monitor.

“The click?”, you met his gaze with confusion in your own.

“Oh. Look this way, baby.”, his hand gently gripped your chin, turning your head to face the monitor on your right, a clear audio file staring at you as you stared at it. 

Mingi’s chuckle echoed through the shock-induced haze in your mind, his hand dropping from your chin as he pulled out of you slowly. A hiss leaving your lips before you were turning on shaky legs to smack his solid chest. 

“Why would you do that?!”, you whined, “Hongjoong could find that!”

A smirk crossed Mingi’s pretty lips as you groaned, his hand brushing along your bare back gently. Another click reaching your ears as you watch the file save from the corner of your eye, no file name in place, a simple .mp3 staring you down before it vanished from the screen, the usually empty audio bars leaving you breathless. There was no way you would be able to find that file with Mingi in the room for one, and two, the infinite files Hongjoong had of beats and unreleased tracks just waiting for their day to shine. You scoffed, focusing back on Mingi as he re-dressed casually, his body being covered from your wandering gaze until he focused back on you. His hands reached out to rub your arms gently as he placed a kiss on your forehead, helping you re-dress as well after he cleaned his cum from your thighs. 

“You did so good for me, love. So pretty for me on his desk.”

“Mingi~”, you whined, slapping his shoulder gently as he pulled you from your leaning position on the desk. 

“Come on, love, we should let it air out now. Smells like sex in here.”, Mingi chuckles, pulling you from the room after checking both ways were clear.

—

It was calm for weeks, the recording not even a thought in your mind until Mingi blew up your phone with missed calls and messages asking you to come into the studio urgently. Your heart raced as you sped through the KQ building, your palms sweating as you looked around for Mingi, nodding at staff who passed you. Mingi found you quickly, grabbing your arm and tugging you along to an empty meeting room. 

“He knows.”

“HE KNOWS?!”

“Shhhh, shh. He knows. He wants to talk to us.”

“What the fuck do you mean talk to us?! He’s gonna kill us!”

Mingi rolled his eyes at your over-exaggeration, his hands running over your arms in a soothing motion. You huffed at him, pulling away from his hold to pace anxiously. 

“He wants to see us… like… 10 minutes ago.”

You froze in place, turning slowly to glare at your sheepish boyfriend, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair. Glancing at Mingi in exasperation once more, you grabbed his hand to drag him out of the room. He stumbled a little at your tug, straightening his step soon after to follow you as casually as he could to the closed door of Hongjoong’s studio. You took a deep breath and knocked lightly on the door, muted shuffling reaching your ears due to your hyper-focus on the other side. The door swung open, Hongjoong meeting your nervous eyes with a hard glare that he swapped to Mingi soon after. 

“In.”

You shuffled into the room with Mingi, a death grip on his hand despite his attempts to pull free so he could cross his arms or shove his hands in his pocket. You bowed politely to the leader, his eyes softening slightly as he took full notice of your nerves. Mingi shuffled past his leader with a small nod, his own nerves clear to the other man as he observed him. 

“Have a seat.”, Hongjoong closed his door, the click of the lock spiking your nerves as he took a seat in his chair, centimeters from where you were railed mere weeks ago. 

You and Mingi took a seat on the couch in the room, memories of being railed there flashing through your head as you practically shook against your boyfriend. The atmosphere of the room was tense, Mingi’s leg bouncing against yours as Hongjoong just looked between the two of you. 

“So…”, he took a dramatic pause, clicking around on his monitors for a moment before your moans and a wet slapping sound filled the room through his speakers. He let it play for a minute, clearing his throat to continue, “You fucked in my studio. Without my permission to be in here, Mingi. Your exemption is not grounds to fuck your girlfriend and record her sounds.”

“You can’t say you didn’t enjoy finding that.”, Mingi scoffed, his hand resting on your thigh as he relaxed.

“That’s not my point-”, a flush ran across Hongjoong’s cheeks before he turned away, dragging the audio file to another monitor where more audio lay in the editor. 

“Then what is?”, you spoke up shakily, your hand grasping at Mingi’s as he trailed it a little too far up your thigh. 

“You recorded it. That’s my point. As punishment, it’s been mixed into a track.”, he hits play on the editor, a beat flowing through the speakers, the punctuated slaps of Mingi’s hips hidden tastefully behind a heavy bass with your moans.

Mingi bopped his head with the beat, the problem slipping his mind until you nudged him pointedly. He stopped abruptly as Hongjoong paused but he sided with his leader in the end, urging you to accept how good the track actually sounded. 

“I can’t just accept this! It’s… private-”

“You recorded it.”

“That was not my idea! I didn’t technically agree!” 

“There was consent though, was there not?”, Hongjoong looked concerned for a moment before you and Mingi both nodded to confirm.

“That’s not my point!”, you huffed, crossing your arms.

“It was consensual, recorded and now it’s a track. You can deny permission to use it, but Mingi says you enjoy the humiliation.” 

“Mingi!”

You stare him down as he laughs silently, only looking sorry when you smack his arm a little too harshly. Hongjoong laughs silently as well before your glare hits him and he clears his throat, clicking through a few things. It takes a few seconds for the same beat to run through the speakers, but this time, Jongho’s ad libs float through the speaker as well. You gasp, the vocals of the maknae sending chills down your spine as they usually do. The beat track blending smoothly with the vocals and creating a demo track for the ages, your moans not perceivable to the unknowing ear. You heaved a sigh and let go of your worries, head bopping along to the beat in time with Mingi’s, a smile crossing the captain's lips. Maybe having your recorded moans in an ATEEZ track wasn’t the worst thing in the world, and looking over at your boyfriend's smile, you knew it definitely would not be all that bad if it happened again. 

#herarcadewasteland #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez fanfiction #ateez smut #mingi x reader #mingi x you #mingi smut #ateez mingi x reader #ateez mingi smut #ateez hongjoong #ateez #song mingi x reader #song mingi smut #song mingi scenarios

[hoshifighting]

The Biggest Fanboy

Synopsis: Sooyoung, a loyal fanboy, expressed his admiration for you, his favorite choreographer through social media and DMs. The dynamic unfolds as you, the choreographer, surprises Sooyoung with a visit to his dance studio.

Word count: 6.4k

Reader! Famous choreographer, Hoshi! Her biggest fanboy, also a dance studio owner

Warnings: smut, oral (f. and m. receiving), lap dance, dancing sex? Soonyoung is WHIPPED and also a good boy!, unprotected sex, hair pulling, praising, they run away from his studio, intense sex.

As Y/N, a renowned choreographer with a string of successes in the world of dance, you've always been dedicated to your craft. In the bustling metropolis, your fame has reached unexpected heights, attracting fans from all walks of life. Among them is Kwon Sooyoung, a talented dancer who, to your surprise, happens to be a fanboy of your work.

Sooyoung, the proud owner of a prominent dance studio in the heart of the city, has made his admiration for your choreography evident through social media and interviews. His posts and comments on your platforms are a testament to his genuine appreciation for your artistry. Despite the virtual nature of your interactions, there's a unique connection that has developed between you and Sooyoung over the years.

The dance community buzzes with excitement whenever Sooyoung shares his thoughts about your latest creations. His loyalty is unwavering, and his dreams of meeting you one day are a constant thread in his online presence. The friendly exchanges in your direct messages have become a regular occurrence, and he never misses an opportunity to extend an invitation for you to visit his studio.

One day, with a break in your busy schedule, you decide to surprise Sooyoung and make good on his invitation. The metropolis stretches out before you as you arrive at his studio, a sleek and modern space with glass walls that offer glimpses of dancers in various stages of practice. The energy is palpable as you walk through the hallway, admiring the dedication of those who share the same passion for movement.

The receptionist welcomes you warmly, explaining that Sooyoung is currently teaching a class. She gestures down the hallway, directing you to the last room on the right where you can observe the class in session. As you make your way, the sound of music and the rhythmic beat of dancing feet grow louder.

As you sat on the bench, Sooyoung wrapped up the dance class, you couldn't help but be enchanted by the scene before you. The little girls, with beaming smiles, gathered around him like a flock of eager butterflies drawn to the warmth of his presence. Sooyoung, wearing that bright pink ballet skirt over his black sweatpants with an air of confidence, embodied a perfect blend of professionalism and playfulness.

The music faded, and Sooyoung, with his infectious energy, announced, "It's time to say goodbye, girls!" The children, bubbling with enthusiasm, rushed toward him, calling out, "Uncle Soonyoung!" Your heart warmed as you witnessed the genuine affection they held for him.

One by one, Sooyoung embraced each child, lifting them off the ground and spinning them in his arms. Laughter filled the room as he playfully interacted with each girl, making sure to pat their heads and exchange a few words before letting them go. His genuine care and affection for his young students were palpable.

Observing this heartwarming spectacle, You couldn't help but be captivated by Sooyoung's ability to create a nurturing and joyous environment in his dance studio. The way he effortlessly connected with the children showcased not only his skills as a dancer but also his genuine love for teaching and mentoring.

As the last of the children leave the room, Sooyoung takes a moment to catch his breath and rehydrate. He reaches for a water bottle, taking a sip as he absentmindedly scrolls through his phone, unaware of the surprise awaiting him.

Meanwhile, you stand outside the glass wall, arms crossed, and a wide grin on your face. The anticipation builds as you patiently wait for Sooyoung to look up and notice your presence.

Finally, as if prompted by some invisible cue, Sooyoung's gaze shifts from his phone to the room beyond. His peripheral vision catches a glimpse of your figure, and he does a double-take. The water bottle pauses mid-air as he raises his eyes, and a gasp escapes him. His eyes widen in disbelief, and he chokes on his water at the unexpected sight of you.

Coughing and sputtering, Sooyoung quickly puts down the water bottle, his expression evolving from surprise to sheer excitement. His eyes lock with yours through the glass, and a mix of emotions plays on his face—joy, disbelief, and genuine happiness. His phone slips from his hand, momentarily forgotten as he rushes to the door, his eyes fixed on you. "Y/n?" Oh my goodness, what are you doing here?" Sooyoung stammered. The little girls' earlier cries of 'Uncle Soonyoung' are now replaced by the pulsating beat of your name on his lips. "I never thought you'd actually come." 

"Well, here I am," you answer, you can't help but smile at his reaction, appreciating the sincerity in his voice. "Well, I figured it was about time I took you up on that invitation," you reply with a playful glint in your eyes "your enthusiasm on social media finally convinced me."

Sooyoung laughs, a joyful sound that fills the room. "I can't believe you saw all those fangirl comments and actually decided to visit. This is amazing!" 

You can't help but chuckle at Sooyoung's sudden self-awareness as he glances around, perhaps noticing your gaze lingering on his choice of attire. "I'm sorry, I must look like a mess after the class." He apologizes with a sheepish grin, acknowledging the contrast between the bright pink ballet skirt and the practical black sweatpants. 

"Oh, don't apologize at all," you assure him, your smile widening. "I think it's a bold fashion statement. Shows you're not afraid to have a little fun, even while teaching."

Sooyoung relaxes a bit, the corners of his mouth turning up in relief. "Yeah, it's a little tradition I have with the kids. They love it when I wear something unexpected. Keeps the energy high, you know?"

You nod in understanding, appreciating the effort he puts into creating a lively and enjoyable atmosphere for his students. The vibrant pink skirt becomes a symbol of his dedication and connection with the kids he teaches.

Sooyoung beams with pride, leading you further into the dance studio. "I've been following your work for years, and having you here is like a dream come true for me and the kids."

"Thank you for making the time to come here. My students are going to lose their minds when they find out you're here," he says, excitement evident in his voice.

You wave off his gratitude with a smile, appreciating the genuine excitement in Sooyoung's voice. "It's my pleasure. I've heard so much about your studio, and I couldn't resist seeing it for myself."

As you walk through the vibrant space, the walls echoing with the sounds of laughter and the rhythmic steps of dance, you can feel the energy and passion that permeate the studio. 

"Guess who's here, everyone?" Sooyoung exclaims, and the anticipation in the room builds.

The students exchange curious glances until their eyes fall upon you, the famous choreographer they've likely seen on screens and admired from a distance. The realization dawns on them, and the room buzzes with excitement.

As the students express their awe and gratitude, you find yourself surrounded by a group of enthusiastic young dancers eager to share their experiences and ask questions. Sooyoung watches with pride as the studio transforms into a hub of excitement and inspiration.

"See what I mean?" Sooyoung says to you with a grin.

[...]

As the clock strikes 10 pm, you check your phone and realize it's time to bid farewell to the lively dance studio. Sooyoung, with a hint of disappointment on his face, accepts the announcement that you need to leave. His shoulders sag a bit, reminiscent of a child whose playtime is coming to an end.

"Thank you so much for coming. This means a lot to all of us," Sooyoung expresses his gratitude once again.

You chuckle at his childlike reaction, finding it endearing. "It was my pleasure, Sooyoung. Your studio is truly something special."

As you gather your things to leave, Sooyoung, with a shy yet hopeful expression, hesitates before making a request. "Um, can I... Can I give you a hug?"

His cheeks flush with embarrassment, and you can't help but find his humility charming. You agree with a warm smile, and he practically beams with joy as he wraps his arms around you. Sooyoung seems to forget the world around him for a moment, reveling in the embrace, and he murmurs a heartfelt thank you.

Stepping back, he seizes the opportunity to extend another invitation, this time to the upcoming spring confraternization of the studio on Saturday. Sooyoung's eyes reflect a mix of hope and excitement as he asks, "Would you like to come? It would mean the world to everyone."

You consider the invitation, appreciating the sincerity in his request. "I'll see if I can make it. If my schedule allows, count me in."

Sooyoung's face lights up with joy once again, and he thanks you eagerly. With a final wave, you exit the dance studio, leaving behind a room filled with memories of unexpected surprises, shared laughter, and the promise of a potential reunion at the upcoming spring event.

As you arrive home, your phone buzzes with excitement, and Sooyoung's name lights up on the screen. With a smile, you open the messages to find a delightful spam of photos, capturing the memorable moments you shared at the dance studio. You respond in kind, sharing some of the photos you took, creating a virtual album of the unexpected day.

Sooyoung comments that a fellow dancer from the studio managed to capture some beautiful shots. Anticipation builds as you wait for the photos to download. When the images finally reveal themselves, there's a heartwarming photo of the two of you hugging and another where you're captured mid-laughter.

"We look good," you reply, adding a playful emoji to convey your delight at the captured moments.

Inspired by the joyous memories, you decide to share a sequence of photos from the day on your social media. The last image in the series is the candid shot of you and Sooyoung wrapped in a warm embrace. In the caption, you express your gratitude, acknowledging Sooyoung's kindness and the incredible day you spent at his studio.

"Such a sweetheart! 🌟 Today was absolutely incredible. Thank you for welcoming me so warmly, Sooyoung" you write, accompanied by a heart emoji.

The post quickly garners attention, with friends, fans, and followers expressing their admiration for the dynamic duo and the evident connection between the famous choreographer and the dedicated dance studio owner. 

Sooyoung's excitement reaches new heights as he sees your post on social media, featuring the photos of the two of you hugging. In a burst of enthusiasm, he can't contain himself and immediately shows the post to Seungkwan and Dokyeom, eager to share the unexpected turn of events.

"Guys, look at this!" Sooyoung exclaims, waving his phone at his friends. "Guess who just posted pictures of us hugging?"

Seungkwan and Dokyeom lean in to get a better look, their curiosity piqued. As the images appear on the screen, they exchange amused glances, clearly entertained by the uproar unfolding in the comments section.

"Soonyoung, you sly dog," Dokyeom teases, nudging him playfully. "Looks like her fanbase is having a field day with this."

Seungkwan adds with a grin, "I knew you had a soft spot for each other. The fans are shipping you two hard."

Sooyoung's cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. "I didn't expect this at all. They really think we look like a couple?"

Dokyeom chuckles, "Well, judging by these comments, they're all in for it. Y'all are becoming a thing, apparently."

Seungkwan joins in the laughter, "Who would've thought? Your crush is now the talk of the country, Sooyoung." The three of them share a moment of camaraderie and amusement as they scroll through the comments, witnessing the unexpected frenzy caused by the seemingly innocent hug.

[...]

Sooyoung had been tapping his feet nervously, anticipation building as he awaited your arrival at the studio's spring event. Throughout the week, your conversations had been filled with uncertainties due to your hectic schedule. He hadn't received a confirmation, leaving him on edge, hoping against hope that you'd show up.

He couldn't help but feel a rush of relief and excitement when he caught sight of you walking towards the studio. With a quick glance in the window's reflection, he hastily adjusted his hair and straightened his shirt, hoping to make a good impression.

As you entered, the energy in the room shifted. The circle of people around you buzzed with excitement, eager to engage with the renowned choreographer in their midst. You graciously greeted them, sharing smiles and warm words, soaking in the atmosphere.

But when your gaze finally met Sooyoung's, his heart skipped a beat. Your bright smile was like a ray of sunshine, and as the crowd parted, you made your way toward him. The circle of people hushed, giving the two of you a moment.

You embraced Sooyoung in a warm hug, and his nerves melted away in that instant. "I'm so glad I could make it," you said softly.

Sooyoung, feeling a rush of emotions, stammered slightly, "I-I can't believe you're here. I mean, I hoped, but... wow."

You chuckled at his flustered reaction, deciding to playfully tease him. "Were you worried I wouldn't show up?"

He blushed, a mix of embarrassment and joy coloring his cheeks. "I, uh, well... maybe a little. It's just... it means a lot that you came."

"Well, you did invite me, didn't you? Couldn't let you down, especially with all these fans waiting to see us together."

Sooyoung, reveling in the playful banter, smirks mischievously in response to your comment. "Oh, I see how it is," he teases, feigning mock offense. "I thought you came just for my dazzling dance moves, not to please the fans." He winks, his tone light and full of humor, "Guess I'll have to step up my game then, huh?"

You raise an eyebrow playfully, your eyes shifting to the big TV across the room where a video from Sooyoung's YouTube channel plays, showcasing his impeccable dance skills to a sensual song. With a sly grin, you suggest, "Maybe you can show me all those dazzling dance moves... when we're alone."

Sooyoung, catching on to the playful tone, licks his lips with a suggestive smirk. "Oh, trust me," he replies, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I've got a whole private playlist of moves that haven't made it to YouTube yet. Maybe you'll get an exclusive performance sometime."

In a whispered tease, you say, "Maybe you can give me a private lesson in those unreleased moves later. I'm curious to see if they're as impressive as you claim."

Your sultry suggestion catches Sooyoung off guard, and he sharply inhales, his eyes widening slightly at the unexpected turn in the conversation. "Well, if you're up for it, maybe I'll have to give you a sneak peek right here, right now," he whispers back, his breath warm against your ear.

As you spot Sooyoung's car in the garage, you turn to him with a playful grin. "Are you seriously going to ditch the event like this?" you inquire, raising an eyebrow.

Sooyoung, clicking the car key with a confident smirk, glances at you with a hint of mischief. "Who cares about the event when I can have you all to myself?" he responds, his tone carrying a touch of naughtiness.

His carefree attitude about leaving the event behind to have an intimate moment with you adds to the excitement. The sound of the car unlocking becomes a signal for your private escape. 

As you settle into Sooyoung's car, the city lights casting a soft glow on the interior, you turn to him with a teasing smile. "So, why exactly do you want to have me all to yourself?" you ask, raising an eyebrow in playful curiosity.

Sooyoung glances at you, his eyes holding a mischievous spark. "Well," he begins, his tone playfully contemplative, "I thought it'd be a shame to waste such a perfect night on anyone else when I could have your undivided attention."

 "Someone's being a bit greedy, wanting me all to themselves. Don't you know how to share?"

Sooyoung, without missing a beat, smirks and replies, "Well, when it comes to you, I don't mind being a little selfish. Can you blame me?"

With a sly grin, you lean in a little closer, your voice taking on a more suggestive tone. "Well, if you're going to be greedy, you better be prepared to handle all of me," you tease, letting the implication hang in the air.

Sooyoung, caught off guard by the unexpected boldness, feels a rush of heat. He glances at you with widened eyes, a mix of surprise and desire evident on his face. The atmosphere in the car becomes charged with a different kind of energy, and you can sense the playful banter taking a more flirtatious turn. Your naughty answer has the desired effect, making Sooyoung's mind race with anticipation as the city lights continue to flicker outside the car window.

As the car comes to a stop at a red signal, you feel Sooyoung's gaze lingering on the exposed skin of your thighs. Sensing his desire, you catch his eye and decide to playfully escalate the teasing. With the tip of your fingers, you subtly pull up the hem of your dress, revealing more of your legs.

Sooyoung, his eyes now fixed on the provocative sight, glances up to meet yours. His gaze darkens with desire, and he inhales sharply. "If you keep teasing me like this," he murmurs, his voice low and filled with a mixture of lust and anticipation, "I can't guarantee I'll be able to wait until we get somewhere."

With a sly smile, you respond to Sooyoung's suggestive remark, "I think I'd prefer a bit more space than a car. Besides, there are some moves I want to show you that might not be suitable for the back seat."

Sooyoung's eyes light up with a mix of excitement and curiosity as he hears your response. "Well, now you've got my attention. What kind of moves are we talking about here?" he asks, a playful grin playing on his lips.

You maintain the sly smile, enjoying the playful banter between you two. "Oh, you'll just have to wait and see. I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise," you reply, your tone teasing and suggestive.

"Well, then," he says, the anticipation evident in his voice, "where do you suggest we go? I'm up for a little adventure."

Sooyoung's grin widens as you suggest, "How about we continue this adventure at my place?"

His eyes light up with excitement, and he nods in agreement. "Sounds like a plan" he replies, his voice carrying a playful yet eager tone. 

You slide your hands to his thigh, a subtle yet unmistakable signal guiding him towards your house. Sooyoung, his mind still buzzing from the teasing and the charged atmosphere, follows your lead.

He turns the car, the familiar quarter of your apartment passing by once again. The combination of the tantalizing proximity and your hand inching higher on his thigh has Sooyoung's concentration wavering. The city lights outside blur as he navigates the familiar route, the rhythm of the car reflecting the heightened pulse of the night.

In the confined space of the elevator, Sooyoung locks eyes with you from across the corner. A charged atmosphere fills the air as the anticipation reaches its peak. With a swift move, Sooyoung steps closer, his eyes conveying an undeniable desire.

Without a word, he surprises you with a passionate tongue kiss, the sudden intensity catching you off guard. His lips meet yours in a heated embrace, and you can feel the hunger in the way he kisses, a mix of desire and urgency. Sooyoung's hands grip you tightly, pulling you closer as the elevator continues its ascent.

As the elevator door opens, you pull Sooyoung with you, still lost in the fervor of the kiss. The two of you stumble towards your apartment door, the intensity of the moment propelling you forward. The keys tremble in your hands as you fumble to unlock the door, the urgency building with each passing second.

Finally, the door swings open, and you practically run inside, eager to feel Sooyoung's lips on yours again. You turn around, your back against the door, your bodies pressed together. Sooyoung wastes no time, and his lips find their way to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that sends shivers down your spine.

With a subtle yet assertive move, you pull Sooyoung by the hem of his shirt, guiding him towards your room. The anticipation between you two continues to grow, and you have a plan in mind. Once in your room, you reach for your phone, intending to set the mood with a carefully chosen song.

After selecting the perfect track, you toss your phone onto the desk and turn your attention back to Sooyoung. With a teasing smile, you guide him to sit on the bed.

Sooyoung, unable to resist the alluring rhythm of your hips moving in sync with the music, bites his lip in a gesture of both desire and restraint. A moan escapes him, his eyes narrowing with intensity as he gazes at you. His furrowed eyebrows and fluttering eyes betray a mixture of longing and arousal, the unspoken connection between you becoming increasingly palpable.

As the music continues to play, creating a sultry backdrop to the scene, Sooyoung lays on his elbows, his eyes locked onto you with a mix of desire and anticipation. Sensing the connection between you two, you decide to take control, and you hover over him, creating an intimate space between your bodies.

You lift your hips up and down, the rhythm of the motion syncing with the music. He can feel your pussy bumping into his dick on purpose when you swing your ass above his bulge. 

Sooyoung, captivated by the intimate dance and the connection between you two, lets out a low, throaty whisper, his voice dripping with desire. "You're driving me crazy," he confesses, his words revealing the intensity of the sensations that course through him.

His gaze remains locked onto you, a mixture of admiration and longing in his eyes. As the music weaves its way around the room, his hands find a gentle yet firm place on your hips, following the rhythm you've set. The unspoken language of desire fills the air, and in this intimate moment, Sooyoung's words echo the emotions that swirl between you, creating a soundtrack to the shared experience unfolding in the dimly lit room.

The room is filled with a charged silence as you take the hem of your dress and pull it up, revealing yourself naked to Sooyoung. His eyes widen in surprise, and a sharp inhale escapes him as his mouth slightly opens, captivated by the sight before him. The dim lighting accentuates the contours of your figure, casting a sensual glow on the intimate moment.

Sooyoung's eyes widen even further in chock as he realizes you're wearing nothing underneath the dress adds another layer of intensity to the moment. 

A soft moan escapes your lips, a natural response to the electrifying contact between his pants and your exposed cunt. The fabric creates a tantalizing friction on your clit, adding a layer of intensity to the sensual dance.

Sooyoung, attuned to your reactions, registers the moan with a mixture of satisfaction and heightened desire. His hands, still firmly placed on your hips, tighten slightly in response to the shared sensations, pulling you closer and pressing you firmly against his bulge.

As Sooyoung takes off his shirt, revealing a sculpted and toned physique, he starts to dance his hips, swaying with a rhythm that mirrors the sultry music playing in the background. The tactile sensation of Sooyoung's rough jeans against your pussy adds a heightened dimension to the dance of desire. The fabric, brushing against you with every movement, creates a tantalizing friction that further amplifies your pleasure.

In the intimate setting, you look into Sooyoung's eyes and, with a sultry tone, express your longing, "Sooyoung-ah, I want more. I want you so bad."

His thumb runs through your folds, then he starts circling your clit, your knees shaking with the sudden contact of his warm skin. Sooyoung, still teasing with his skilled fingers, leans in and asks in a sultry whisper, "Do you really want me?" His question hangs in the air, the room filled with a charged anticipation. Without waiting for a verbal response, he plants a series of sensual kisses along the valley of your breasts.

Feeling the intensity of the moment, you grip Sooyoung's hair firmly, making him hiss. His eyes meet yours, a mix of surprise and desire evident in his gaze. With a sense of urgency, Sooyoung speeds up his actions in response to your moans, each movement adding to the crescendo of desire in the room.

Sooyoung, driven by the escalating desire, pulls you to the edge of the bed. He kneels on the floor, his gaze locking with yours from below. The change in perspective adds an extra layer of intensity to the moment. Your breath catches as Sooyoung's mouth works its magic, each touch and caress sending waves of pleasure through your body. Clit being sucked and flicked with his warm tongue, making you scream his name. 

Sooyoung, immersed in the task at hand, closes his eyes, dedicating himself to giving you pleasure. His focused demeanor showcases his commitment, as if it's a ride-or-die mission. You run your fingers gently along his cheek, appreciating the dedication he puts into the moment. A soft laugh escapes you as you observe how intensely he's focused.

With a teasing tone, you praise him, "Soonyoun-gie, you're doing so well for me, such a good boy, the best boy." The words find their way into his consciousness, and his cheeks flush with a delightful shade of red. The combination of your praises and the pleasure he's providing creates a potent mix of sensations on him making him moan, vibrations sent straight to your clit.

As the rhythm of your lungs speeds up, breathing becoming fast and erratic, Sooyoung keenly notices the heightened intensity. In response, he speeds up, gripping your thighs tighter with a determined glare. The acceleration of his movements pushes you to the edge, and the climax arrives with an intensity that takes you by surprise. 

As you catch your breath, Sooyoung's gaze meets yours with a satisfaction, and he rises from his kneeling position, a satisfied and content expression on his face. The dimly lit room is filled with a post-climactic tranquility as you catch your breath.

Sooyoung, still close, brushes a gentle kiss against your forehead, a tender gesture that adds to the intimacy of the moment. The air is thick with a shared connection, and a comfortable silence envelops the room.

With a playful glint in your eyes, you suggest, "You deserve a reward," as you notice Sooyoung's pants growing tighter. He chuckles nervously, attempting to decline the offer, "No, no, no need to. I'm satisfied."

Ignoring his protests, you proceed to unbutton his jeans, your hands working with a deliberate intent on his hard dick. "I swear, Y/N-nie, I-I'm already too-" As your touch intensifies, Sooyoung's words begin to slow down until they get lost in the growing tension. His breath becomes heavier against your neck, the room filled with the palpable anticipation of the next shared experience.

In the quiet, intimate space between you and Sooyoung, his protests become muffled breaths against your neck as your hands continue their skillful exploration. As you work your magic, Sooyoung's resistance dissolves, replaced by a growing need. He breathes heavily against your neck, words escaping him in fragmented whispers. "I... I didn't expect this... you're too much," he stammers.

Amused by Sooyoung's sincerity, you praise him once again, "You deserve it, you know. You made me feel so good." As you swing your feet, a playful expression on your face, you continue, "And it's not just about me. You should enjoy it too."

Sooyoung, still catching his breath, shakes his head, a content smile playing on his lips. "I'm already satisfied, honestly. Just seeing you like that, hearing you... it's more than enough. I dreamt about that," he admits, his eyes reflecting a mixture of satisfaction and a touch of vulnerability.

You can't help but find it endearing, his selflessness in the pursuit of your pleasure. "You're too good, Sooyoung-ah," you say, a teasing glint in your eyes.

In response to your teasing, Sooyoung chuckles nervously, "I-I'm fine, really. No need for anything else." However, you can sense a subtle curiosity in his eyes, a desire to explore further.

With a playful grin, you lean in closer, your breath warm against his ear. "Are you sure?" you whisper, your voice carrying a hint of mischief. "I can make your dreams come true too, Sooyoung-ah."

His cheeks flush slightly, a mix of embarrassment and anticipation. "Well, maybe just a little," he admits, his gaze meeting yours with a shy smile.

As Sooyoung gets free from the rest of his clothes, he watches you approach his cock with a mixture of anticipation and nervous excitement. His breath becomes shakier, and he confesses, "I think I'm going to lose my mind."

A mischievous smile plays on your lips as you respond, "That's exactly what I want, Sooyoung-ah." Your words add a layer of playful tension to the room, and you continue to pump his dick with a deliberate touch.

Sooyoung sulks slightly, a mix of embarrassment and pleasure washing over him. He mutters, "This is too much," but his body betrays him, responding to your every touch.

As the exploration continues, Sooyoung's sulking demeanor begins to transform into a mixture of pleasure and surrender. Your skilled touch elicits soft moans from him.

Despite his initial protests, Sooyoung's body responds eagerly to your every move. 

You pause amidst the intimate exchange, a soft smile gracing your lips as you ask, "Are you always this shy?" starting to pump him again.

Sooyoung, his cheeks still flushed, chuckles softly and replies, "No, it's not usually like this. I guess it's just... you."

You raise an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Me? What did I do to make you so shy, Sooyoung-ah?"

He shrugs playfully, a shy smile lingering on his lips. "I don't know. You just have this effect on me, I guess." he replies as he watches you getting down.

As your mouth wraps around Sooyoung's cock, he gasps loudly, arching his back in response to the unexpected pleasure. His mumbles become a symphony of fragmented words and hushed expressions of pleasure.

"Oh, woah," he gasps, fingers tangling in your hair. "T-that feels... amazing," he stammers, his voice catching between breaths. Incoherent whispers escape him as the sensations ripple through his body.

You feel his rapid heartbeat beneath your touch, his mumbles a testament to the overwhelming pleasure he's experiencing. 

Sooyoung can't help but vocalize his pleasure when his tip hits the back of your throat, making a dripping mess around his cock, and then coming back, licking the head with flickering licks. 

Sooyoung, caught in the throes of pleasure, finds himself reaching the peak of ecstasy. The grip on your hair tightens, a mixture of desire and urgency. His moans become more pronounced, blending with your own shared sounds of passion.

"Ah, sorry," he manages to mumble between moans, his voice husky with desire. He loosens his grip, his fingers now gently caressing your scalp as an apology. However, you find the roughness oddly pleasurable, and it only adds to the heightened atmosphere. 

His words continue to be a mix of apologies and incoherent expressions of pleasure. "Didn't mean to," he whispers, but his actions betray his sincerity.

As Sooyoung reaches his peak of pleasure, his grip tightens momentarily before his body tenses with the release. He makes a mess, his breath hitching with the intensity of the moment. His chin lifts, and he throws his head back, a guttural moan escaping his lips.

The room is filled with the aftermath of shared ecstasy, the air heavy with a mix of passion and satisfaction. Sooyoung's body relaxes, and he breathes heavily, the waves of pleasure slowly subsiding.

After the intensity of the moment, you lean in to kiss Sooyoung, sharing the intimate taste of the aftermath. Your lips linger on his, and then you trail kisses across his cheeks, coaxing him back to the present.

As he slowly returns from the depths of ecstasy, you look into his eyes and softly ask, "Are you good, Sooyoung?"

Unable to formulate words, Sooyoung responds with a deep, satisfied moan. His body, still humming with the echoes of pleasure, communicates a sense of contentment that transcends spoken language.

As Sooyoung starts to regain consciousness, he begins to kiss your neck with a newfound awareness. The intimate act sends shivers down your spine, and you can feel his growing desire pressing against you.

His lips linger on your neck, and in the sultry atmosphere, you playfully remark, "Feeling more awake now, Sooyoung-ah?"

Sooyoung, his voice laced with desire, responds, "Very awake, especially here," as he gently emphasizes his growing arousal.

A mischievous glint in your eyes, you tease, "Should we change positions, or are you comfortable like this?"

Sooyoung, unable to resist the playful banter, grins, "I think a change of scenery would be nice. What do you have in mind?" 

As the dynamics shift, Sooyoung now on top of you, his gaze filled with attentiveness, you look up at him with a playful yet commanding glint in your eyes. With a sly smile, you order, "Sooyoung-ah, show me your best moves. Dance for me."

His eyes widen with surprise, a mix of curiosity and excitement playing on his features.

Sooyoung, embracing the challenge with enthusiasm, focuses on the intimate performance. The music playing in the background becomes a subtle soundtrack to the dance unfolding between you two. He pushes only his tip, making you look at him with hooded eyes, biting your lip. 

As Sooyoung hovers over you, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and concern for your comfort, he softly asks, "How do you want it, slowly or all in at once?"

You pause for a moment, meeting his gaze with a playful yet anticipatory expression. "Surprise me," you respond, your voice filled with a hint of excitement.

As Sooyoung fulfills your request and enters all at once, a gasp escapes your lips, quickly turning into a passionate scream of his name. The room resonates with the intensity of the moment, the sound of your voice echoing through the intimate space.

Sooyoung, captivated by the raw and unrestrained pleasure he evoked, finds himself amazed. The realization that his biggest inspiration is screaming his name in the most explicit way adds a layer of ecstasy to the experience. 

As Sooyoung begins to roll his hips, his hands exploring every inch of your body, the dance takes on a new rhythm. The synchronization of his movements with the subtle beats of the song transforms the room into a private stage.

His hips meet yours in a rhythmic dance, circling and rolling in a slow and deliberate motion. Each movement sends waves of pleasure through your body, making your toes curl with the intoxicating sensation.

Sooyoung starts to pick up the pace, his movements becoming faster and more fervent. The connection deepens as he feels you tightening around him, a telltale sign of shared ecstasy.

Sooyoung, balancing on the edge of the bed, moans with a mixture of pleasure and a hint of surrender. "Right there," you cry out, his name escaping your lips. Sensing the impending climax, you encourage him with breathless urgency, "Don't stop, Sooyoung, don't you dare stop." Sooyoung, his voice strained with desire, responds, "I won't stop, not until you're fully satisfied."

As Sooyoung continues his passionate rhythm, each thrust hitting that exquisite spot with precision, the intensity builds. The pleasure becomes almost overwhelming, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes as your body tenses in response.

Then, in a wave of ecstasy, you reach the climax. Your body arches, and a torrent of pleasure courses through you, wetting both him and the bed. The room echoes with the sounds of your moans, and your body stretches in a blissful release, forming a perfect "O."

As Sooyoung witnesses the physical and emotional intensity etched across your face — the tightness around him, your shaky knees, and the continuous symphony of moans — a profound realization hits him. The sheer pleasure, the uncontrollable reactions, it's all because of him.

Overwhelmed by the sight before him, he succumbs to the intensity of the moment. His moans become a mantra of your name, a vocal expression of the pleasure coursing through him.

Your bodies are locked in a passionate embrace, and Sooyoung, on the precipice of climax, finally reaches the peak. He fills you up, the room resonating with the echoes of shared ecstasy, the culmination of a dance that transcended physicality.

In the aftermath of shared pleasure, Sooyoung, overwhelmed by a surge of emotions, tightens his embrace as if cherishing the moment. His arms envelop you as if it were the last time you'd be together in such an intimate space.

You, equally caught in the emotional currents, caress his hair tenderly, planting gentle kisses on his cheek. The room becomes a haven for shared vulnerability, a sanctuary where physical and emotional intimacy converge.

"I've admired you for so long, and now, being with you like this, it feels surreal."

You gently tease Sooyoung, noting his sentiment, "You're acting like this is our last moment together."

He raises his shoulder in a playful shrug, a hint of uncertainty in his expression. "I... I don't know what happens next."

Your tone softens with a playful reassurance, "Relax, it's not the end. In fact, I want to do this again. Maybe 200 times in every corner of my house."

Sooyoung's eyes widen in pleasant surprise at your suggestion. "200 times? That's... quite a lot," he stammers, caught off guard by the playful proposal.

You chuckle at his reaction, enjoying the playful banter. "I'm just kidding. But I definitely wouldn't mind doing this again."

The room fills with a light-hearted atmosphere, the tension easing into a comfortable and playful exchange. Sooyoung, recovering from the initial surprise, raises an eyebrow in playful curiosity. "Does that number also include the rounds?"

You chuckle, shaking your head, "No, no. The rounds are not included in that count. But speaking of rounds, how about a round two in the bathroom?"

Sooyoung, now grinning, responds with a hint of mischief, "Bathroom, huh? That sounds intriguing. Lead the way."

#seventeen headcanons #seventeen imagines #seventeen reactions #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt imagines #hoshi #hoshi smut #hoshi fluff #hoshi x reader #hoshi fanfic #hoshi x you #hoshi x y/n #kwon soonyoung #soonyoung smut #soonyoung x reader #svt soonyoung #soonyoung fluff #kwon hoshi #seventeen soonyoung #soonyoung scenarios #soonyoung imagines #soonyoung x you #soonyoung x y/n #soonyoung fanfic #seungcheol smut

[flowerandblood]

Glass Cuts Deepest Epilogue

[ professor! • Aemond x student! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, trauma, mention of sexual harassment and panic attacks, the power of fluff ]

[ description: Aemond and Wright have a year of their relationship behind them, full of joy, but also difficult situations for them, related to demons from his past. Despite this, they find their own ways to live normally and happily. Aemond, jealous that Cregan is now her professor, decides to find out if the girl who changed his life still loves him. Sexual tension, childhood traumas and sweet fluff. ]

This oneshot is the events that take place one year after Glass Cuts Deepest Series. This is a special chapter written to celebrate my one year on this platform, which falls on March 22.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

When a year had passed since he and Wright had officially announced that they were together, he was relieved to find that his panic attacks had almost disappeared, and if they did occur, they no longer involved vomiting and convulsions, causing only discomfort and a feeling of tightness in his stomach.

Wright was perfectly capable of recognising its symptoms, spotting instantly when he froze or turned pale, not touching him at the time, just asking quietly if he needed a moment alone or if he would like her to embrace him.

More and more often he wanted to simply cuddle up to her, so he would then ask her to let him, but not to touch him herself. He would then draw her close and sink his face into her neck, taking in her wonderful scent, listening to her breathing until he calmed down.

"− I'm sorry −" He mumbled then, ashamed that, as usual, he thought he had got it over with, that it was so good after all. He fought then against the grim thoughts that he would never be normal, that she had to live with someone who didn't cope, who was constantly afraid.

"− don't apologise −" She whispered softly, resting her cheek on his head, playing with the fingers of her hand, waiting patiently for him to be able to function normally again.

"− I'm glad that now when you feel unwell, you don't feel discomfort when I'm close − it's very important to me −" She said warmly, kissing his hair, and he felt his muscles relax slowly, the fact that she never made sudden movements, never tried to embrace him against his will, made him feel safe.

She respected the fact that he knew for himself what was good for him and what he needed, and she never forced him into anything, on the contrary, she always carefully studied his barriers.

Once when she showed him a picture of a nightgown, finding it lovely and pretty, white, lacy and strapless, of slippery, shiny material, he turned pale and shook his head quickly, looking away, seeing her enter his room then, what she was wearing was all too similar in his mind, a cold sweat on his back.

"− oh, I'm sorry − I won't show you this kind of things anymore − I just − I'd like to buy myself some nice pyjamas − the kind you'd like −" She muttered, looking up at him, turning on the couch, he sighed quietly, rubbing her bare legs that rested on his thighs.

"− I like it when you wear my Tshirts − nothing turns me on more −" He hummed, looking at her out of the corner of his eye, seeing her blush as she lay dressed in his black shirt covering her thighs, he knew she had nothing but panties underneath, just the way he liked it.

"− oh −" She mumbled quietly, embarrassed, pretending to scroll something further on her phone.

Since he had left the university and focused on his own studio, he felt that the immense frustration that had been with him all those years, of having to deal with strange women, having to constantly explain his decisions and apologise for the way he was, had left him.

In his new workshop, more spacious and brighter than the one he had worked in before, he felt free, and the only girl who was allowed inside was Wright.

Sometimes he couldn't help himself and would ask her how Cregan was doing in his job, seeing that she was progressing more and more each month, jealous that now someone else was her professor, she was spending a lot of time in class which was hard for him to come to terms with after they had spent so much time in each other's company up to that point.

"He is a really good teacher. He has a lot of patience and explains complicated things so that they seem simple, or he shows us something by doing it himself and we can watch." She said lightly, standing beside him, helping him cut out templates for his new commission, which he was working on with some of his former students he had hired. He hit the side of her cheek with the tip of his tongue, impatient for some reason.

"That's good." He replied dispassionately, feeling her cast him a quick glance upon hearing the tone of his voice, leaning lower to bend forward and look at his face.

"Are you jealous, Professor?" She hummed softly and he pressed his lips together, recognising that he hadn't given a shit, that he'd wanted to do this for a long time.

She squealed quietly as he grabbed her by the arm and turned her around facing the backlit table, his hands slid her panties down in a swift, sure movement, leaving her in a state of shock, his hand on the nape of her neck forced her to bend over, the material of her dress lifted slightly, revealing her naked buttocks, he noticed out of the corner of his eye her entrance, glistening from her wetness.

She was his Eve, and although neither of them had ever completely undressed, and he wasn't sure he would ever be able to do so or endure such a sight without the memories overwhelming him, the sight of her partial nudity no longer frightened him, for her body was his temple, pure, warm and safe.

"− I've been thinking about this ever since I met you − you don't even know how many times I've stood over you barely restraining myself from fucking you good on a table like this −" He breathed out, quickly unzipping his trousers, lowering them a tad once with his boxers, not waiting a moment, forcing the swollen head of his cock between her puffy, weeping folds.

"− wider − that's it − fuck − are you okay? −" He muttered, casting her an uncertain look after he thrust deeper into her, sliding all the way in, her tight walls resisting him as he hadn't prepared her for this as well as usual.

"− y-yes − keep going − just − take it slow −" She mumbled softly, and he hummed under his breath, leaning down, placing his hands on either side of her on the backlit top of his table on which he usually cut glass, his lips pressed against her long, perfumed neck as his hips began to rock slowly inside her, barely sliding out of her without any rush, letting her get used to his size.

"− so warm − fuck, baby −" He gasped out, hearing her first shy moans, feeling his cock slide into her with increasing ease, slick with her moisture, her muscles began to throb around him, squeezing him, he looked down, watching as he opened her wide with deep, sure thrusts of his hips.

"− please, Professor − please −" She mewled and he sighed loudly, she knew how it affected him, she knew how much it aroused him, involuntarily he picked up his pace, his thighs began to slam against her buttocks with loud splats, all around them just their panting and the sticky clicks of her leaking wetness.

"− you have no shame − begging for your professor's cock − is this how you got good grades at university? huh? − you like it when they fuck you well? −" He sneered, clamping his hands over her bare buttocks, letting go of control completely, allowing his subconscious to take over him and his movements, his pushes faster and more aggressive, rubbing her where she needed it. She leaned back on her palms against the table top, responding to his thrusts by rocking her hips, her hot, wet muscles sucking him inside with her moans of delight.

"− n-no − I work so hard −" She muttered frightened, as if some part of her really believed he could think that about her, he chuckled under his breath, running his hand through her hair, pounding into her so fast and deep that he was no longer sliding out of her with loud slaps of skin against skin.

"− I can see how hard you're working − how much it costs you to fit it in −" He scoffed, and she whimpered at his words, responding more and more eagerly to his thrusts, his knee spreading her thighs wider, forcing her to bend over again with her loud gasp of exertion.

"− I-I'm sorry − I promise I'll be good already, I promise, I promise, I promise −" She mewled, moaning low as he felt her muscles begin to throb in orgasm, her body arching backwards, he embraced her around the waist, his other hand gripping her cheeks, his lips pressed against hers in an aggressive, greedy, hot kiss as, after a few sloppy, messy thrusts, he came deep inside her with a heavy sigh of delight.

"− I know − my sweet little girl, am I right? −" He gasped, panting loudly along with her, embracing her tightly from behind, nuzzling his cheek against hers, her hands clasped around his arms, stroking them steadily, his half-hard manhood still twitching deep inside her.

"− yes −" She mumbled, burying her face in his cheek, as she always did after their rapprochement, needing his closeness and the tenderness he never denied her.

"− you don't think of him that way, do you? −" He asked quietly, ashamed of his insecurity, of his own fear and imaginings, of the fact that someone else, someone better could easily take his place at her side when he needed her so much, loved her so much.

"− oh, no, silly − I never felt anything like that before you − I think I was in love with you long before I realised it −" She said warmly, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, a sweet, girlish smile full of tenderness on her lips that melted his heart, his confirmation that all was well.

"− yes − yes, me too −" He murmured, leaning lower, placing warm, wet kisses on her face. He began to wonder intensely if the ring he had chosen for her, which lay tucked deep in one of his drawers where he kept his designs was still there, and if he would be a complete idiot to propose to her now.

After a moment he decided that yes, he would be a complete idiot and sighed quietly, smiling involuntarily under his breath, sliding out of her gently, helping her put her panties back on over her buttocks, then zipping up his trousers, looking at her out of the corner of his eye, she turned to face him, all red from exertion, her eyes big, her breathing still slightly accelerated.

"Take me today to the church where you first saw the stained glass windows. You told me that story once, I think you mentioned that your father took you there." He said softly and she blinked, curious, cocking her head, leaning her palms against the edge of the table.

"Alright, why not, Professor. Where did you suddenly get this idea?" She asked cheerfully, excitedly, and he snorted under his breath.

"You'll see."

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #hotd aemond #ewan mitchell #aemond smut #aemond #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen smut #hotd smut #ewan mitchell smut #modern aemond #modern aemond targaryen #modern aemond smut #modern aemond angst #aemond angst #aemond targaryen angst #aemond fanfic #aemond fandom #aemond fluff #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen fluff #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd fic #hotd fandom

[tipsyleaf]

Ballet Shoes and Bulletproof Vests

CW: Recovering from alcoholism (Leons just trying to better himself man

Words: 1k

A/N: 👛anon I've had brain rot because of you. But I still love you pookie.

Blue leotard... Gunmetal blue, his favorite shade. It was almost like you were trying to send a signal through the glass windows of the studio attached to the apartment building gym.

Every weekend for the past few months he'd come down and workout for a two hours without issue. Until you moved into the building a month ago. Walking through the gym in leotards and the same skin tone tights straight into the small studio space.

Leon picked up quickly that you don't seem to be doing mindless pirouettes, pliés or chassé. You practiced the same routine, which means you probably do this for a living. Or at the very least a hobby.

He tried his best to not come off creepy but sometimes he couldn't stop from staring. Leon rarely found beauty in life anymore, something he was trying to fix. His sponsor suggested that life could be worth living if you find something meaningful to live for.

Besides surviving or being a living breathing weapon.

At first, the staring was for more "primal" reasons, but it soon turned to him admiring how gracefully you could move. How sharp your movements were. The clean movements were mesmerizing and very distracting. It certainly didn't help that you were pretty either. But every time you stopped and turned back towards the windows, Leon would turn away immediately. Scared you'd think he was some kind of weirdo or worse...

A pervert.

You were probably way too prissy for him anyway. Why bother window shopping?

You're too pure, jumping around in white satin ballet slippers and him in bulletproof vests with tactical gear. Your worlds can never mix, you're too different. Far too different.

So, with his better judgment, Leon got into the habit of changing his routine and getting up at the crack of dawn like in his army days. Just to go workout first thing in the morning. Leaving the gym as you were coming in.

But one morning you didn't come in as he was leaving. And as usual, he stops at his mailbox, fishing in his jacket pocket as he walks into the main lobby.

And there you were. Stood in front of the mailboxes, sorting through a few envelopes with your tiny mailbox door hung open.

Shit... This is gonna be awkward.

Leon approaches slowly, walking up to his mailbox and ripping his keys out of his jacket pocket. Something round flies out of his pocket with a clatter as it hits the floor. You lift your head to see the green chip rolling across the floor, quickly you step past him and pin it under your shoe.

Leon stares, realizing he forgot to take his chip out of his pocket after his meeting last night. Too tired from a long day at work to remember before passing out in bed as soon as he got home. He can feel his neck heating up, he hasn't even said a single word to you, and now you'll know he's an alcoholic trying to get his life together.

And he's sweaty and gross?!

What a fantastic first meeting...

You bend down, grabbing the green chip from the floor as you walk back. Giving it a glance, you hold it out for him. Slowly he raises his hand, chest tightening as he nods a “Thank You” while taking it.

"90 days is a big accomplishment, you should be proud of yourself." He stared for a moment, fully expecting a dirty look or pity.

"Uh, yeah. Thanks. I-I am." His lips drew to a line as you walked back around him, shutting your mailbox and locking it. He gives you a glance as you grab your bag from the floor and give him a small smile.

"You're from 3D, right?" You question, his eyes glance at his mailbox, his lips part slightly. Brain trying to process how you knew his apartment without even talking to him.

"Yes?" His eyebrows raised, your eyes fixed on his uneasy response.

"Hmm." She looks him up and down, almost like she's trying to size him up. Or even taken him in completely.

"A little scruffy for my taste, but you'll get the job done." His nose wrinkled as you stepped past him, and headed for the door.

"The hell do you mean by that?" You turned your attention back to him, smiling again.

"The old ladies in the building, they talk about everyone. Well, anyone interesting at least. And they said you're pretty cute. I'd have to agree." He feels his neck burning again, embarrassment of another kind seeping into his collarbone and rising to his cheeks as he smiles a tiny bit.

He was never great with women.

"Thank you..." He clutches the chip in his hand, running his thumb across the bumped out embossing of the metal.

"And um... I know we don't know each other," you step forward again, gesturing to his hands, "but I'm here if you ever need to be talked down... 3 years for me, still have my bad days, but it gets easier with time. I promise."

He looks a little surprised, not expecting you to know his struggles in some way. He just nods, watching you lean to the side, looking behind him and turning back to leave again.

"Congratulations again on 90 days, Leon." You smile, pushing the door open.

"Whoa, wait. What's your-"

"2B!" You yell back without turning around, watching you leave through the doors leading to the gym. His head swivels, looking at the mailboxes. Seeing your name printed a piece of tape stuck to your mailbox.

His mind wanders, thinking of you as he pulls his bills from his mailbox. A folded over flyer was wrapped around the envelopes. Pulling it off the envelope, he gave it a long look. Your face staring back at his as you're leaping in a beautiful flowing white dress and veil.

Giselle printed in fancy font under you pointed toes along with show times for next weekend.

Staring for a second, he thought, pondering over the words of his sponsor telling him to try new things.

Maybe he should try theater.

#🌿 ivy writes #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader

[hwajin]

#! — ɢᴏʟᴅᴇɴ | hhj

genre: smut, fluff

pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader

wc: 2.2k

warnings: unprotected sex, piv, coming inside, very short mention of self-consiouscness, very very soft tho

all right reserved, reposting/ translating not allowed

A handmade sandwich and a glass of water in each your hand, a smile accompanying your movements as you made your way to Hyunjin’s studio. It was long after midday by now, and except for the breakfast you shared you hadn’t seen your boyfriend otherwise – he surely needed nutrition with all the painting he busied himself with, though it was only a disguised pretext to see him. You missed him, after all.

You opened the door to the room, not bothering to knock – Hyunjin was rarely found without his headphones when losing himself in art, previous attempts of letting your presence know had always led to nothing. He never minded it, argued he didn’t care much for privacy when it came to you, anyways. It somehow was the single most romantic thing he’s ever admitted to.

The smile that had been painted onto your features beforehand widened now that you got to take a look at your boyfriend – fluttering white cardigan thrown over his body, not bothered to button it, leaving his torso exposed, porcelain skin littered with colours of velvet and blue. His hair up in a messy bun, dishevelled strands escaping their confines. Barefoot and utterly in peace – there was no sight you adored more than this.

As expected, thick headphones accentuated his ears, allowing him to immerse fully in whatever fantasy, vision he was creating. So far only hues painted the canvas before him, yet you were certain you’d end up loving his work like any other he’s made.

Hyunjin hasn’t seen you yet, engrossed fully, his side turned towards the door you came from, his back to the big window that granted him natural sunlight throughout noon. Eyes concentrated and lips bitten, used up brush in big hand and head tilted to his right to offer a new perspective. You closed the distance between you with slow steps, cautious not to scare the man – which was never to success, he was a scaredy cat if you’ve ever seen one. When you came to life in his peripheral vision he jolted in surprise, making you giggle at his antics – just like you expected. A light blush creeped around his ears and neck, his coloured hands making haste to remove the headphones, faint music filling the room quietly when he laid them onto a small table next to him. He offered you a smile, and you placed the plate and glass next to the discarded source of music, making your way behind Hyunjin to properly see his art. Your hands hugging around his figure, hands laid on his chest loosely and head by the side of his. A kiss planted to his cheek, then to the lobe of his ear, to his nape lastly. His heart increased in speed at the acts of honey love, and he hummed in content, fingers finding to entangle in yours.

“What are you making?”

Barely a hushed whisper, your voice daring to disturb the quiet of the room.

“Mhh, I’m not sure to be honest, just painting whatever comes to mind.”

His voice as quiet as yours was, and you hummed in understanding. You liked whenever he did that. When he had uncertain visions in mind and let his hands wander across the canvas, without plan or the need for perfectionism – those had always been the artworks most to your liking. Hyunjin was aware, hence dedicated most of these to you. Thinking you could never grow tired of the way the sun irradiated the drying watercolours on the 80 x 120 centimetre big sheet you observed it a bit longer, before discarding from Hyunjin’s figure with an “I like it, it’s pretty already.”, and another kiss to his temple.

“You’ve been in here the whole day; I’ve brought you some food and water.”

Hyunjin’s warm hands wrapped around your wrists, disturbing your making way to the nutrition you brought and pulling you closer to his body instead, parting his thighs to make room for you in between. You standing to face him now, his touch dancing above the silken fabric of your nightgown, right above your hips. You hadn’t minded to change out of your nightly attire today, deciding to lazy around to your hearts desires. Hyunjin had mentioned that he loved whenever you paid no mind to change your outfit, when he could catch glimpses of you in a state of utter relaxation.

“What's the time?”

Hyunjin looked up at you, puppy eyes and smitten voice, hands caressing the curves across your body. His lips connecting to your chest, littering sugar coated kisses on the bare skin.

“Almost five.”

Your voice breathless, hushed as you felt his touch against the small of your back, arms engulfing you in his embrace, caging you into confines of love and longing.

“Hmm.”

A hum past his lips and absentmindedly, as though he didn't really want to know the answer to his question, he kissed down your gown, mouth touching tummy above fabric, hands ruffling up the layered cloth to enclose you deeper. Big palms finding your bare thighs, fingers fisting around the silk to guide it up, to reveal your nude form from the waist down, besides the underwear you’ve thrown on. Lips connecting to the plush of your stomach, to the curve of your hips, to the space underneath your navel, right above your waistband. Your breath shortened in intervals as you let Hyunjin explore your body, your fingers tangled up in his hair, disregarded hair tie around your wrist. He left a trail of wet kisses anywhere he touched, from your middle down to your thighs and back up again. He played with the waistband of your underwear, only teasing his plans though not yet conforming. Waiting to test your limit, possibly. Or simply wishing to take his time – you had nowhere to rush, after all.

After minutes the man looked up at you from beneath his lashes, eyes big and pupils widened, pleading expression laced behind sinful look. He was sweet, he was enticing, he was irresistible.

“C’mere baby.”

Getting a hold of your leg, pulling it over his own thigh to allow you a seated position atop of him. Something you’ve always been self-conscious about, something Hyunjin always put effort in to reassure. He wanted to know you in comfort and utter bliss whenever with him, always despised possible doubts and worries of self-worth you grew around him. After all he was crazy over you wholly and undoubtedly, convincing you of it felt his duty.

By now you’ve grown fond of his doting character, were brave enough to open yourself to him thoroughly. Straddling his lap momentarily, clashing your lips against his softly yet with an underlying passion only lovers could bear. The kiss was heated though in absence of vulgarity and lewdness, your blood flooded with infatuation and devotion instead. Secured hands around your waist, holding body against body and chest to chest; leaving your hands to go to work, to wander south and across the exposed skin of his body, tracing the shapes and forms his muscles painted, and unmaking the strings of Hyunjin’s sweats, pulling on the fabric only enough to reveal what needed. You parted from the kiss to ruffle up your dress, to slide your laced underwear past your thighs, only the needed amount as well. Hyunjin watched you breathlessly, observing your every gesture, your every change of expression. Took notice of the fervour in your eyes, the haste in your attempts to undress; nothing that left him cold, everything that made him catch your breath in another kiss, one hand leaving your waist to hold at the side of your face, wet mouth against wet mouth, and quiet sighs filled the golden room.

One of your hand finding your core, his own ones too unwashed to prepare. Minutes passed of exchanged kissing and tempered moves of sin – arches of backs and clawing of shoulders – and before you knew Hyunjin’s right migrated in between his thighs, his left pulling your body yet an inch closer to line up himself with your core. A few tested touches against your slit, penetrating then when your eagerness was undeniable, when a whimper fell past your lips and your head fell heavily into your neck at the long-awaited contact. Hyunjin himself sighed out in nothing but pure bliss, stilling inside you for a moment to let you adjust. It was you who started moving first, impatience lacing your thrusts, pleasure painting your eyes and scrunched features – it was one of Hyunjin’s favourite sights, though he’d been too shy to ever admit to it. He watched you in awe as you moved against him, hips as though a mind of their own, head lost in satisfaction long ago. His hands held your hips secured, his thighs flexed to offer stability. Your fingers groped at Hyunjin’s shoulders, sneaking beneath his cottoned shirt, and he adored the light sting it provided – it was purely intimate, nothing but mimicked love in the way you moved.

Only after four minutes or five your efforts grew sloppy. Your thighs felt weaker against Hyunjin’s own, your hands clawed into his body more helplessly, grunts of exhaustion and hardship meeting Hyunjin’s ears. You’d always grow tired faster than your boyfriend, though that was never a reason you didn’t put in the effort. He adored you for wanting to please him, though he wasn’t one to let you struggle. With two steady hands beneath your bum, he picked you up, standing and making few steps to seat you down on the vast windowsill of his studio. Surprise fell over your features, yet it took a reassuring smile from Hyunjin for you to fall into blush and flusterness, followed by a chuckle of the man; you were adorable in any moment as sinful as may be, toothrottingly sweet in his eyes at any given occasion. It ignited a wish within him to care for you, to pepper you in tenderness and amorousness whenever possible.

“You’re tired, let me take over.”

Repositioning between your thighs, moving deeply inside you in mere moments anew. Your head fell back, a broken moan gushing out your throat. You steadied yourself with two hands behind your back, old wood against your palms, back arched and core close to Hyunjin’s. His own hands laid at your thighs, white gown entangling in between his fingers. He didn’t mind it anymore, mutual thought of release the only subject on his hasty mind. His cottoned shirt fell past his shoulders now, meeting his arms midway, giving you a provocative sight, toned arms and pointy shoulder on display. Your own cloth felt dishevelled, one strap fallen long ago, though you paid no mind.

Continuous motions of waves against your hips, the soft slapping of skin a sinful reminder of your doings. The gentle music out the headphones remained a quiet source of music you barely took in, concentrating rather on each other’s voices – it was music enough in the other’s ears. Groans past Hyunjin’s lips, confessions of adoration, high pitched whines. Scattered breath on your side, held back whines and sighs, affirmations of love. The sun behind your body illuminated Hyunjin’s features in fine gold, in beauteous shimmers you wished would settle on his fair skin in permanence. Your gown felt delicate against you, a contrast to the roughness of Hyunjin’s hands. Groping at your thighs, caressing the soft of your hips, exploring the expanse of your body. With every further thrust his audible pleasure increased in volume, and it was the prettiest sound you’d ever hear, though you were too shy to admit to it. You moved to hold his face in your palm, slightly sweaty against his cheek though he tendered against it, closed eyes and flared nose against you. A hum past his lips, a thrust against your hips and you whined out in unison, your hand falling to his neck, holding for support. It wasn’t long until Hyunjin’s face nestled in your nape, if due to exhaustion or the wish to be closer you were unsure, though didn’t mind either reason. You allowed him in, raked head to the side for more access, relished in the pleasured sigh he let sound against you. Taking in your smell, grazing teeth against sensitive skin, and you were ready to fall off the edge with him. A whine of his name past your lips and he was aware, keeping his rhythm as steady as his exhaustion allowed him to; his knees wavering with his standing position, his upper body falling against yours – though he didn’t dare mess up his tempo, kept a steadiness until your legs hugged at his waist in achieved pleasure, and your back arched with heaving chest against him, until a scream of gratification ripped past you. Hyunjin followed shortly after, stuttering hips as he released within you, with heavy sighs and cursed confessions, holding your body as close as ever.

Coming down from the bliss you didn’t move for several moments, embracing the other in intimacy, relishing in two-natured isolation. Honey dripping kisses and sweet confessions followed, filling the room in sugar glazed sounds. You were Hyunjin’s greatest muse, the sole reasoning behind the hours he spent in this very studio; him your most adored artist, the reason you found joy in the beauty of the world he portrayed.

@etherealeeknow @linoskitty @unexceptional-h @rseanne @diue @es-kay-zee @urcracksisx @jeyelleohe @yunkiwii @etheralsung @nyrasneedy @seochhj @spidercomics @chans-starlight @angelwonie @lix-ables @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @sstarryreads @svintsandghosts @bokjaz @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry

#hyunjin fluff #hyunjin smut #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin x reader #skz scenarios #skz x reader #skz smut #skz imagines #skz fluff #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff

[estinesstories]

𝓒𝓸𝓻𝓴 𝓘𝓽, 𝓟𝓲𝓰. 𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 1-2

𝙃𝙖𝙯𝙗𝙞𝙣𝙃𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙡 𝙭 𝙁!𝙋𝙞𝙢𝙥!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙥𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙢𝙨 𝙨𝙪𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙑𝙖𝙡, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙄 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙪𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙜𝙪𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙩’𝙨 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙤𝙣 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚 💗

𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨: 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙖𝙢𝙤𝙪𝙨 𝙥𝙞𝙢𝙥 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙤𝙧 𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡, 𝙨𝙝𝙚’𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙮, 𝙨𝙝𝙚’𝙨 𝙖 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙧/𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙗𝙤𝙧𝙣 𝙢𝙞𝙭, 𝙨𝙝𝙚’𝙨 𝙖 𝙗𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙑𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙤.

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝙑𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙨 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙖𝙗 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙗𝙞𝙜 𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙨, 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚, 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙜𝙞𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙝𝙞𝙢. 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙣 𝙚𝙭𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙚’𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙙𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜.

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙑𝙪𝙡𝙜𝙖𝙧 𝙇𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙪𝙖𝙜𝙚, 𝙑𝙞𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚, 𝘼𝙗𝙪𝙨𝙚, 𝙎𝙚𝙭𝙪𝙖𝙡 𝙏𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙞𝙚𝙨, 𝙈𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙍—𝙥𝙚.

(𝙃𝘼𝙕𝘽𝙄𝙉 𝙃𝙊𝙏𝙀𝙇 𝘽𝙀𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂𝙎 𝙏𝙊 𝙑𝙄𝙑𝙕𝙔𝙋𝙊𝙋! 𝘾𝙍𝙀𝘿𝙄𝙏𝙎 𝙏𝙊 𝘿𝙄𝙑𝙄𝘿𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙂𝙊 𝙏𝙊 @𝙘𝙖𝙛𝙚𝙠𝙞𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙣𝙚! 𝙂𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙖 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙤𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙣, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙄 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙄 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 💗)

You tapped your foot impatiently as you waited for the demon at the front desk. It had been thirty minutes, thirty minutes since you were supposed to meet Valentino for direction issues. You growled to yourself as both your arms and legs were crossed, your ermine coat sagging on your shoulders and showing your gold chains and velvet dress. Your star glasses rested softly the bridge of your nose as you looked around the room. Pulling out a cigarette, you lit it and watched as the demon at the front desk tapped away at her computer. Finally, the door in front of you that led to the hallway to the studio opened, revealing Val in all his glory. He smiled evilly at you through his glasses while you glared at him. He took a drag of his own cigarette as he watched yours hang from your mouth.

“Y/n! Good to see you again~.” He slurred your way, watching as you stood up and strutted over to him with narrowed, pink eyes.

“Your lucky I didn’t leave, ya fuckin’ lump.” You growled at him as you walked past.

You’ve never liked Valentino. You were aware he abused his cast members and employees, so you tried your best to stay away from him. You didn’t need him anyways, you were the biggest pimp/porn director in hell! It helped a lot that you were half-hellborn, so you could travel to all of the rings and make videos for everyone. You were also friends with Asmodeus, who gave you plenty of tips and tricks. He also taught you that list should be enjoyed and never forced, and that it’s an art. Which was specifically why you and him alike hated who Val was and what he did. He was just lucky Ozzie couldn’t travel to the Pride ring, or else Val wouldn’t have a career anymore, let alone a life. The only reason you were teaming with him for this was because you his movie meant really good money.

Val glared at you as you walked in, but held his tongue for the money. As you entered the studio, you looked around at the actors and crew members. All of them looked rather… on edge. You furrowed your brows, but ignored it.

“So, where’s the star?” You huffed as you looked around the room, multiple large, buff sinners as well as tiny petite, skinny ones as well. Val seemed to be searching as well for a moment before growling and turning to you with a very forced smile.

“One moment.” He seethed before stomping off to a door on the other side of the room. You quickly glared at him and stopped his movement. Her stopped dead in his tracks and cold sweated as he heard your heels walk up behind him.

“I’m gonna get ‘em y’ abusive prick.” You whispered to him, making sure no one else could hear as they worked. “Go back t’ yer fucking chair.”

You heard him scurry off as you softly knocked on the door that read Angel Dust at the top, golden plate. Moments late, a hesitant “come in,” came from inside. You gently open the door, having to duck your head as to not hit it as well as your horns on the top of the frame. You smiled at the sinner in front of you, a white, demon, spider boy in a red velvet robe. He looked at you with wide eyes.

“Hey, darlin’,” you cooed as you strutted up to him, subconsciously swaying your hips. You took note of his funny expression. “Are you my star?”

“Who are you?” He inquired, turning in his chair to actually look at you.

“I’m y’ new co-director, doll!” You cheered. “Whenever yer ready, come on out. We’ll wait for you.”

Angel looked utterly confused as you twiddled your fingers his way as if to say goodbye before walking out of the room and back over to Valentino who sat impatiently in his chair. You sat in the one next to it leaned back.

“If I ever find out you hurt another one o’ yer workers, girls or boys, I will rip your limp dick off of your bald balls and chop it in half, and then I’ll shove one half up your ass and see it shut. The other half will go in your throat, and then I’ll see that up too.” You threatened him in a low voice, not looking at him in the eyes. You just heard his breath hitch for a moment before Angel’s door opened, revealing him in nothing but black leather boots. You snatched the script from the table beside you and looked over the first scene. You turned to Valentino with a snarl.

“Are you kidding me? The main subject is gonna be some random robbery rape? No one’s gonna like that shit.” You whispered at him. He huffed at you with crossed arms.

“Fine then. You direct it if you’re so full of it.” He seethed. You scoffed at him but stood and walked over to Angel and the group of large sinners.

“We’re changin’ the script up a bit, fellas.” You took a huffed of smoke and blew it down and away from their faces, something that made them raise a brow.

“Who the fuck are you, bitch?” One of the bigger demons rasped out. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“I’m Y/n, owner of Star Streaks. And your new director, since your old one,” you growled out, glancing back at Val, who was glued to his phone. “Is a bit busy at the moment.”

Their eyes widened at your names, and they all immediately shut up. Your eyes finally landed to Angel with a sweet smile as you looked down at him. “We took out the rape-y-aspect of it, darlin’, don’t worry about it.”

Angel’s eyes seemed to soften slightly till you finally looked back to the others. “Alright, here’s the new script,” you snapped your fingers, making each of their hands hold a packet of papers. “I’ll give you an hour to memorize it. Now, I’m gonna order everyone some bloodbaths from Frazzola’s!”

Before they could say anything, you walked off and pulled your phone out, failing the bakery. “Aye, Baldi,” you turned to Valentino, who looked like he was having the worst day ever. He gave you a half-assed glance. “How many people are workin’ on this right now? Cast and everything.

“Uh, like, I don’t know, forty?” He sighed with a rose brow. You smiled at him and walked off, listening to the cheerful woman answer the call.

You watched carefully as the sex scene finally took place. Suddenly, your phone vibrated on your lap. You picked it up and looked at the name, your assistant’s popping up on the screen. You showed Valentino and watched him silently nod. You exited the room quietly and stood outside to pick up the call. A few seconds later, a blonde woman you knew as the princess of hell, Charlie Morningstar, walked up to the door to the studio. Your eyes widened.

“Excuse me for a moment, Honey.” You whispered to her, looking to Charlie again. “Princess Charlie! What a lovely surprise.”

Charlie seemed startled by your voice before widening her eyes at you. “Y/n Star? Woah, I didn’t know angel works for you too!”

You chuckled at her and smiled sweetly at her excitement. “Oh no, honey. I’m just his co-director. Speaking of, make sure yer quiet when you go in, their recordin’.”

She nodded at you silently before entering the room. You then unmuted yourself and apologized to Honey for having to hold on her.

As you were talking with Honey about statistics, which quickly just turned into how excited she was that she was pregnant with her dear wife’s baby, it was a few minutes after Charlie went into the room, and you heard crackling and screams coming from the room. You also noticed an orange hue illuminated under the door. Soon, smoke poured out of the door, and the screaming stopped. Your brows furrowed.

“Holy shit, I’m so sorry darlin’ I’ll talk to you tomorrow. I think there’s a fire in the studio.” You hurried out and hung up before whipping open the door. Behind it, stood charred equipment that had been knocked over, as well as multiple workers and actors sprawled all over the room, terrified expressions on their faces. It didn’t help that you looked furious. You searched the room and landed your eyes on Charlie, who looked more scared than anyone there. You frowned and looked at her worriedly. “What the fuck happened in here? Are you okay?” You put a hand on her shoulder, but she didn’t speak. You turned to the rest of the sinners and demons in there room. “Is everyone okay?”

You got multiple nods and “yeah”’s from everyone, making you sigh in relief. Suddenly, you realized you couldn’t find the two most important people of the movie in the room, Angel Dust and Valentino. You seethed, angrily storming to Angel’s room and slamming open the door so hard it causes the handle to get stuck in the wall. Valentino whips his head up to look at you, and all color leaves his expression as you slowly looked down to Angel Dust, who was crumbled up on the floor in pain, and held a black bruise on his eye. You were absolutely fuming. Angel looks at you with a painful expression, tears just barely brimming his eyes. You looked back up to Valentino. You stepped over Angel and towards Val.

“Angel, go get Charlie and leave. Tell ‘er you ain’t comin’ back ‘ere. And remember not to be mad at her, be mad at this little cunt sucker.” You growled, never taking your wild eyes off of the abuser. He said nothing, and only left. You ripped the door out of the wall and slammed it shut. “Are you FUCKIN’ KIDDING ME!?”

“W-wait, Y/n! Please, it was an accident-“ He stuttered, backing up as you stepped closer. You growled as he finally fell back onto the couch in his room.

“Fuckin’ accident my ASS, you SHIT DICK BITCH!” You screamed in his face before slapping him hard across the face. The hit caused him to fall to the side, but you caught him by the throat before he could go very far and slammed him back into the wall behind the couch. “What’d I tell you!? WHAT THE FUCK DID I TELL YOU!? I TOLD YOU IF I CAUGHT YOU DOIN’ THAT FUCKIN’ SHIT I WAS GONNA FUCK YOU UP, RIGHT!? IS THAT WHAT THE HELL YOU WANT ME TO DO TO YOU!?”

You slammed a flat palm onto Val’s crotch, causing him to let out a mangled mix between a pleasured moan and a pained grunt. You narrowed your eyes at him in disgust as he looked at you with wide, lustful eyes. Your grip on his neck tightened, causing his top hands to grasp your forearm weakly, his bottom hands spreading flatly onto the back of the couch to hold himself up.

“You, are fuckin’ disgustin’. You’re the sluttiest, bitchiest, most insecure, insufferable piece of pimp trash I have ever had the torment of meeting. You’re lucky that I have a lick of damn sense, or I’d rip that hard little mealworm you call a cock into pieces. I know that you own Angel’s soul. Give me that contract or I’ll still consider your damn punishment.” And with that, you let go of him. He panted and quickly snapped his fingers, the golden contract appearing before your eyes. You snatched it and glared at him before storming out of the room. You turned to the sinners who were still left in the room, an apologetic look crossing your features. “I am so sorry t’ all of ya, y’all can go take the rest of the week off, and I’ll make sure to give you all your paychecks by Tuesday.”

Soon, everyone left, and you stepped out of the room left with a closed eye sigh. Your index and thumb were rested on the bridge of your nose as well as your hand on your hip as you felt a headache coming along.

“Uh, Miss Star?” You were startled at the name, whipping your head to the side to find Charlie and Angel seeming to wait for you outside the room. They stepped up to you when you softened your gaze. Charlie smiled sadly at you, while Angel just kinda looked sad.

“Oh, what is it sweet heart?” You asked tiredly, leaning down a bit to talk to them both. Charlie looked over to Angel and nudged him towards you encouragingly. He sighed.

“Thank you. Thank you so much fer helpin’ us,” his voice cracked, and he sounded like he was about to cry. Your frowned at him. “Fer helpin’ me.”

You smiled gently at him and looked in between the two. “Can I give y’all a hug?”

Charlie looked ecstatic, while Angel rose a brow, but you pulled them both in for the most genuine, comforting hug either of them had ever felt, like that of a mother. They both relaxed into your embrace for a moment before you suddenly remembered. “Oh! Angel, I forgot.”

The then snapped, the contract the sinner had signed appearing in front of all of them. Angel’s eyes widened, tears brimming them yet again.

“Holy fuck,” he muttered and grabbed the paper, before you set it into cold flames, causing him to jump.

“You’re free now Angel, no more abuse, and no more pornos unless that’s what y’ want.” You spoke softly, placing a hand on his shoulder with a smile as he turned to look at you. Suddenly, he rushed to take you in a tight hug, leaving you surprised. But your gaze soon softened at him.

“Thank you…” he whispered, and you patted his back.

“Course, honey! Now, if you did wanna keep working, do not work for that man. If you want, I’ve got an open spot for actor. No contracts needed, tons of friendly demons, loads of breaks, and you can totally quit whenever. But I do understand if you don’t wanna keep the business. Just make sure you call me if you want the gig!” You gleamed at him, giving him your card as you started to walk down the hall to the elevator. “Or, you can just call me! I’ll be happy to talk whenever! Love you, kids!”

And with that, you left, strutting iconically down the hall and leaving the two staring at you in shock.

“Oh, she’s definitely my new idol.” Angel mumbled.

“Uh huh.” Charlie answered.

𝙄 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀𝘿 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝙊𝙉𝙀!! 𝙃𝙤𝙥𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙞𝙙 𝙩𝙤𝙤! 𝙈𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨! 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙪𝙮𝙨 💗🫶

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #vox #vox x reader #spotify #requests open #fanfic #charlie morningstar #angst with a happy ending #angel dust #valentino #FUCK YOU VALENTINO 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕 #feeling bad I left honey on a cliff hanger 💔💔💔

[iqzo]

BEAUTY & A BEAST.

(nsfw, rapper connie)

BEING FRIEND WITH INFAMOUS Connie Springer. had it’s up and downs, specially with you being his manager. A lot of speculation about you and him having a relationship was bound to ignite.

After being caught with his crooked pointer finger resting beneath your chin, lifting it up as he stares intensely into your eyes while he held a umbrella in his next hand.

Of course shaderoom was the first to post it then TMZ nosey ass, and the rest of the world. Connie didn’t give a fuck about the accusations, but you did. Knowing how many businesses lines you had and how this rumor might take a toll on it.

Connie sat on the chair, writing lyrics for his new album which would be released in about 4 weeks or 3.

Bumping his head as he found the right words to rhyme with, and the incredible word play that had him hyped the most.

you entered the studio closing the door behind you, Connie turned and his eyes instantly roaming the tight turtle neck dress you wore that ended barely at your thighs.

wearing those big frame glasses Connie adored, and your long butterfly locks framing your face perfectly. you held a clipboard to your stomach resting it on the couch.

you walked up to connie, “Whatchu workin on?” Connie comely eyes glued to the lipgloss combo you had. the outer painted black while the inner was shined up with lipgloss.

“The angel song..” he replied his eyes still wandering around your body as you walked around him to look at the notebook yourself. Connie now hovering above you, your body inches away from his. “Ouu, i like this word play.” you smiled pointing at the same word play that had him hyped.

Connie smiled. wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you in closer, instantly taking a whiff of the perfume he had bought you for your birthday. “Connie..are you sniffing me?” you questioned, he lifts his head up from your neck.

“yeah, you smell nice.” he complemented, you casted a smile before looking back down at the notebook. “thank you,” you whispered.

Connie grabbed the chair and pulled it over, sitting down grabbing you down with him. landing on his lap, you continued to view his lyrics, your eyebrows furrowed up. “Is this a love song?” you questioned fixing yourself on his lap so you sat sideways, Connie inhaled deeply hoping you didn’t feel the boner.

“Yea.” he answered, low eyes glued to yours. you moved from side to side thinking he was zoomed out but his eyes followed every movement. “Stop staring at me.” you blushed covering your face with his notebook.

A small grin found its way on connie’s face, “You look fucking beautiful and you expect me to stop staring?” he asked leaning up to you, his mouth near your ear as he continued to talk soft with you. “This dress bout short as fuck, did anyone make you feel uncomfortable on your way here? just tell me and i’ll handle it, baby.” he whispered planting a kiss on your cheek after, you were getting wet and connie knew since he felt the heartbeats.

“n-no..” you whispered, watching his large veiny hands that were designed with rings and a small panda tattoo on the side of his pointer finger slowly waltzing up your thigh. “Con-connie..” Connie wrapped his free hand around your neck pulling your head back locking his lips with yours as the hand beneath your dress started pulling aside your drenched panties, legs spreading for more access.

Connie tongue slipped past your lips and roaming around your mouth, as you struggled to keep up with him since he had a finger already pumping inside you. he inserts a next one. both individuals curved instantly hitting that spot. causing a loud pornographic noise that made Connie pull away with a smirk, “right here?” he asked going more faster as you struggled with the word leaving your mouth.

“agh, c-con, i-i’m gonna, ahh” your legs shakes with a fountain of your juices squirting out landing on connie’s fingers as the rest went onto the floor.

you breathed heavily, while still feeling Connie kissing your neck. you groaned, he slides his fingers out and brought them to your lips, “open.” he said in a demanding tone, your shaky lips parted giving Connie the access to roughly shove his two fingers into your mouth. “Taste how good you are, baby.” he says watching as you licked his finger clean.

he slips his fingers out along with some spit dripping out, he quickly throws you over his shoulder which caught you off guard.

he rest you softly on the couch, sliding your dress up as he unbuckled his pants, zipping it down exposing the heavy bulge in his calvin klein.

“open up for me..” he says, you parted your lips and allowed Connie to dip his fingers inside. applying the saliva onto his cock before sliding hisself in.

Both you and Connie moaned from the feeling of the warmth and gummy walls that enclosed around his dick while you felt completely full by his dick being inside you.

he gave you a minute to adjust to his size before going completely mad.

having you screaming his name out in the studio, you were so happy it was just you and him today.

His hand slide to the underside of your thighs bringing them to his shoulders and leaving them there.

he continued to roughly pound into you, his eyes caught the print of his tip hitting your stomach.

he chuckled which caught your attention, “look baby.” he says, your head picked up to see what he was talking about.

you gasped seeing the outline of his dick, protruding against your stomach. “Damn,” he says through a throaty chuckle, “fuck, wanna touch it?” he questioned you nod your head making connie grasp your wrist, taking it to the bulge.

both hands pressing down on the bulge which caused you to moan, connie’s eyes widened from how your walls tightly wrapped around his cock. “s-shit baby.” he says.

he picked back up his past and began working his way to his climax, sweat beans showing on his forehead, his strokes getting more sloppier each time he went back in. your hands wrapped around his neck, reaching your high cumming all over his dick as he went harder. coating your insides with his semen.

“fu-fuck..” he mumbled, by your ear. now resting on top of you, both out of breath. connie having the energy to lift his head up using his arms as support to hold his body.

“now all i need is a beat,” you glared at him, “get your corny ass off me.” he chuckled before landing a kiss on your cheek.

“i love you,” “i love you too.”

#x black reader #jujutsu kaisen #long hair #rapper #aot connie #connie x black y/n #anime x black!reader #attack on titan eren #eren x reader #bnha x reader #jean kirstein #connie springer #studio #famous #Spotify #iqzo<3

[flem17ng]

would love love love a jessie x dancer!r pls & thankyou 💖 ps I love your work

strength and grace: Jflem x dancer!reader

note: This was so fun to write anon! Thanks for the prompt x

summary: jessie passes the same dance studio every day on her walk and admires the dancers. It never occurred to her that one of them was admiring her back. 

word count: 2.7k

The snow was thick on the pavement that morning and jessie thanked the poor bastard who’d taken the time to salt the path the night before. The snow made banks in both sides as she trudged onward. Her hands were shoved deep in her pockets and she hid her face in the collar of her jumper. Training never stopped, even in winter when the wind was sub zero and the field had to be heated. She was passing a small row of shops when gentle music made her pause. It echoed strangely through the empty street. It came from a stone building with large windows. She’d seen it before but had never taken the time to admire the dancers within. 

The glass was almost frosted over, but she leaned up to see inside. 

A lone figure stood in the warm light dressed in a half zipped hoodie and sweatpants. Her hair was in a messy bun that seemed to be slipping from the hair-tie. The woman moved to the music like water: graceful and fluid. every so often she paused, pressed a button on her phone and started the dance again. 

Jessie could have stayed there for hours watching that girl dance. But eventually her fingers started going numb and she was rudely reminded that she had to get to the training ground. 

She loved being back home in Canada, loved it even more when she was home for winter. Everything was so quiet and cold. The hockey season was kicking off, the ski fields opened up. Unfortunately it did mean training her ass off in freezing rain most mornings and today was no different. the raindrops started falling heavily as she pulled herself away from the dance studio window and she wished, randomly, that she was in there with that strange dancer instead of out in the cold. 

***

No matter how many times you practiced the move, you couldn’t pin it down. The studio was empty that morning because you had come in so early. You’d had to hype yourself up to get out of the house because of all the snow on the road. You have never been so grateful for the studios heating system. 

“fuck” you groaned. One second off the beat! Maybe you were being a perfectionist but it needed to be perfect. You pressed play again. The music filled the room in waves: piano, strange vocals, guitar. 

You lifted your hands above your head and moved. The dance wasn’t for a competition or anything, more of a passion project. You danced to get out emotions, to release. You moved to the music fluidly, feeling it, understanding. The tricky part was coming up again and you scrunched your eyebrows, focusing. 

“ugh” you groaned again and rubbed your eyes. you psyched yourself out again. You looked around the empty studio and caught movement in the corner of your eye: a woman walking past the window, bundled up in the cold. For a second you thought your eyes met but she kept walking. maybe she was watching you dance, you thought and smiled. 

***

Jessie stood with her teammates as they made their lap of the stadium. The game had gone well and the energy was always fantastic during a home game. It was extra special for her because the game was so close to home. The crowd was full of family and friends. Fans who traveled to be there held large signs and decorated themselves with maple leaves and red paint. 

It was no small secret that you were a big fan of women’s soccer. Specifically that you were a big fan of Jessie Fleming. You first watched her play in the olympics a few years ago and from then on went to as many games as possible. Your friends often teased you about it, and sure, maybe it was a little silly. The truth was you just loved to watch her move. The way she ran across the pitch, the way her legs seemed to go wherever she needed to be. her muscles stretched and contracted and  her arms- Ok so maybe it wasn’t just about her soccer skills. 

The game had been a good one, you’d managed to get tickets right at the front and now the whole team was standing just a few metres away waving to the crowd. 

“omg Y/n i think that player you like is looking at you” your friend whispered with a smirk. You scanned the team and sure enough Jessie Fleming was watching you. She had a strange expression on her face, as if she was looking for someone she knew. Her cheeks were red and her hair was messy from the game. Dispite the cold air, she had pushed up her sleeves to sit above her shoulders making you blush.

She kept looking at you before shaking her head and giving you a grin. 

“what was that about” your friend laughed and slapped your arm. You would have replied but at that moment you were far too busy reminding your heart how to beat properly. 

Down on the field Jessie was tugged away by Quinn. they were talking about something, ball movement or something along that line but jessie was still thinking about the girl in the crowd. Maybe she was being crazy but she could have sworn that was the dancer from the studio in her town. The way You had smiled at her left her feeling a little dizzy. 

“hello Jeffy? are you listening at all?” Quinn laughed giving Jessie a small shove. 

“What of course I am! Ball something right?” 

Quinn shook their head with a smile. 

“You’ve been out of it since i caught you staring all gooey eyed at that lady in the stands! Do you know her?”

“I was not gooey eyed! also no one says that anymore. I don’t know i think she’s from my town.” jessie explained with a humph. 

“well i’m pretty sure she was wearing your jersey. Must be a fan” Jessie blushed but brushed them off. She was a grown woman! she wasn’t getting ‘gooey eyed’ over a pretty stranger who happened to dance like an angel. 

*** 

The next day Jessie made her way up the street to the studio with a purpose. She needed to see you. Even if she didn’t know you, even if she didn’t speak to you, She wanted to see you, To make sure it really was you at the game. 

When she reached the window she didn’t hesitate to lean into the glass and look into the warmly lit room. Instead of an empty room like a few day before, there where lots of young children in tiny too-toos. The music was light and bouncing and the kids laughed and screamed as they pointed their toes and spun around. It was a moment before the instructor came into view and, just as jessie had thought, it was you. You stood at the front of the room in a  skirt that matched the children’s, a glowing grin covered your face as you corrected the movements of a few stray kids. 

Jessie couldn’t help but smile as she watched you dance around the group, movements just as fluid as before but playful, full of joy, childish. 

She blinked and you disappeared, the class still dancing to the music inside. 

“excuse me? can i help you” You asked, head sticking out the door into the frosty air. Jessie turned, startled, only to watch your face change into a similar look of surprise. 

“I’m so sorry! I walk by here to get to my work and i usually stop to watch you dance! I didn’t want to interfere.” Jessie squeaked, feeling suddenly guilty. 

“no no! don’t worry i just- I’m sorry I’m y/n.” You smiled and stepped onto the front step, your breath making clouds in the air. 

“I’m jessie” she grinned and held out a hand for you to shake. You blushed and took it. 

“Jessie…” you breathed. “well Jessie, I wish i could chat for a while but these kids might light something on fire if i’m gone too long!” You began to turn back inside when she touched your arm to stop you. 

“i’m sorry this is so unusual but… Did you go to a football game last night by any chance?” Jessie questioned, wondering if there really was any way to ask this in a not creepy way. 

“i did yes. My uh, My favourite player was playing” you grinned and turned back inside. Jessie stood there on the step for a minute after you closed the door. It was you she had seen in the crowd, and you had a favourite player… Jessie wasn’t sure why that made her stomach flip. She wanted to be your favourite player. The thought hit her like a tone of bricks. She barely knew you for christs sake! yet here she was, standing in the snow outside your studio thinking of every way she could make you like her. 

***

The next match came faster than expected. It was a friendly up in toronto and the team was buzzing. Jessie had spent the past few travel days planning how she could impress you. Honestly this wasn’t her thing and maybe she was being crazy but that didn’t stop her. The day of the game was cold, the pitch was hard and the game itself even harder. 

It was second half when the penalty was given to canada: the wall was set up and jessie (the designated kicker) was lining up the shot. 

The crowd roared and she spared a glance at the stands. It was then that she spotted you, sitting right by the goal in a thick Canada jumper. 

The whistle blew and jessie kicked. The ball sailed through the air, spinning and spinning. The crowd had already begun the rise when it slipped past the goalies fingers and slammed into the back of the net. 

Jessie ran forward towards the crowd and lifted her hands above her head, arching up into her toes and lifting her head to the sky mimicking the movement of a ballet dancer. At the last second, before the team ran into her, she looked at you, making sure you had seen the celebration. Sure enough, you stood in your seat, grin plastered across your face giving jessie a thumbs up. It was pretty easy to say that was the best game all season. 

***

The damn heating system had broken down. On the plus side, the kids classes had been canceled that morning because of the snow, on the down side: You now had an extra hour of empty studio time in the freezing Canada cold.  You switched the music on, adjusted your jumper and started to dance. You had finally finished the number, ironed out the kinks and gotten past the tricky timing. The movement flowed easily and you let your muscles relax and you danced. You were so engrossed in the music that you didn’t hear the door open or the footsteps on the floorboards. Only after the dance ended did your intruder announce herself. 

“sorry i didn’t know your coffee order so i just got hot chocolate” You wizzed around at the sound of her voice and saw her leaning against the mirror with to steaming cups and a sheepish smile. 

“Jesus Jessie! you scared me!” You tried to look angry but couldn’t, instead breaking into a grin and grabbing a cup from her outstretched hand. The drink warmed up your hands and you took a moment to let the heat seep through your bones. 

“you look so peaceful when you dance” Jessie all but whispered, looking down at her own cup. 

“oh… Thank you. I use dance to… center myself i think.” You leant against the mirror next to her and watched her watch you for a moment. “Nice goal the other day by the way. Very impressive. The celebration was a nice touch even if your form was a little off” 

Jessie blushed and rolled her eyes at herself, still in disbelief that she had done that. 

“well, I needed something to get your attention didn’t i?” she muttered. 

“you already had all my attention. I told you i was there to see my favourite player didn’t I?” You unzipped your number and turned around showing her the large “17” on your back. Jessie opened her mouth into a little ‘o’. 

“oh! I’m your favourite?” She smiled with wide eyes. You just laughed and shook your head.

“of course you are!” 

jessie grinned and ducked her head, embarrassed. Here she was making a fool out of herself for a pretty girl who already liked her. 

When she looked up she found you watching her with warm eyes. You admired her for a moment: Even in the cold of the audio Jessie seemed to radiate a warmth, a cozy energy. Her cheeks were pink (from blush or cold you couldn’t tell) and her eyes sparkled in the warm light. 

“I love hot chocolate by the way” you stated, holding up the cup. 

“oh yeah? Lucky guess i suppose.” Jessie took a large gulp of her own drink leaving a fine line of chocolate froth of her top lip. 

“oh wait you have- let me” Before you could think, you leant forward and wiped the foam from her top lip with your thump. Jessie let out a sharp breath making you pause, thumb still resting near her mouth. you looked at each-other for a long moment, your hand not moving, your eyes traveling from jessie’s eyes to her lips and back again. 

The door opened with a bang causing you both to jump apart. 

“Y/n!! we need to get the bloody heater working before tomorrow or i will freeze!” One of the other dancers yelled before noticing the awkward air in the room. “oh i’m sorry i didn’t know you had a… guest?”

Jessie coughed and stepped back. “no that’s ok I was just leaving” she turning and walked towards the door quickly. 

“wait jessie-“

“see you later y/n” jessie gave you a wave and a lopsided smile before stepping outside and out of view.

***

You couldn’t make it to the next game because it was in another province but you watched on TV. Jessie was glowing the whole game: running like lightning, tackling the opposition seamlessly. When she made an epic assist you stood on your sofa and cheered. And when the ball hit the net and the whole Canada team copied Jessie’s celebration from the other night (arms up, toes pointed like a squad of muscly ballerinas) you couldn’t help but gasp and slap a hand over your mouth. She knew you would be watching, Of course she did. 

Maybe it was this elation that possessed you to walk to the training center in the small hours of the morning on the day the team was set to arrive back. Maybe the thought of jessie smiling as she pretended to dance on the field was the thing that had you waiting for the bus to pull up and the doors to open. Whatever it was, there you were: the sun not yet risen, freezing in your ‘Fleming’ jersey in sub zero temperatures as jessie, looking tired and sore, got off the bus with her team. 

You waited no time running towards her, pausing only a second so she could drop her bags and open her arms. When you hugged her, all of a sudden you felt like no music or dance in the world could explain your feelings. 

“Jessie- I saw on TV! Did you ask them to do that with you? I saw-“

Jessie cut you off, placing a hand on your neck and finally putting her lips of yours. Her lips were cold and yours tasted like lip balm but you didn’t care. You pulled her closer and kissed her. Vaguely you could hear the team cheering but you paid it no mind, holding your girl close. 

This was all you needed. She was all you needed.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #canwnt #woso x reader #woso

[fayes-fics]

Happy Birthday, Mr Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Benedict's wife gives him the best possible birthday gift.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors dni, masturbation, vaginal sex, massage, pregnancy.

Word Count: 3.0k

Author's Note: A more romantic fic than my usual. The sweet, soulful artist deserves to be loved and cherished. Enjoy <3

It’s midnight, and a birthday has just begun.

You pad through the house to Benedict’s studio. He is perched on a stool, busy sketching. He often works late into the night when the muse takes him. You pause in the open doorway to watch him work. Admiring his skills as he feathers his charcoal across the page. Admiring him, the movements of his artistic hands, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his braces hanging loose around his hips.

“Happy birthday, my love,” you call softly as you close the door.

“Thank you, my lo…” his answer dies on his lips as he turns and sees you.

Speechless is a good start.

Your skin feels aglow as you bask in his attention, sauntering towards him. His eyes track your every movement. His hand is still suspended in midair, charcoal in hand.

Your gown is totally sheer, the colour of your flesh, its only adornment being tiny starbursts of silver sequins that glitter in the candlelight. You feel beautiful in it, like a walking shimmering fireworks display. With a few layers of chemises, this would be a stunning ball gown; without them, it’s a scandalous sight. Everything is visible through the translucent tulle layers. And you wear absolutely nothing underneath except a dab or two of his favourite perfume.

He still hasn’t said anything, but he is breathing slightly heavily as you draw up to him, his eyes raking up and down your body. You pluck the charcoal between his fingers and place it down on his easel.

“I am the luckiest man in the world,” he exhales quietly, finally finding his voice.

Warmth blooms in your chest, and you smile fondly at his compliment, stepping between his slightly bended knees; one of his feet looped onto the stool, the other kicked out towards the easel. You set aside a little glass vial you came in holding.

“Wh…” he begins, but you hush him with a soft finger to his lips.

“Shh, you don’t need to speak tonight, my love,” you murmur, running your hands into his hair, “just feel.”

His eyes soften and give silent acceptance, and his body relaxes a notch. Even though he finds solace in his art, he’s had a long few days; you want to soothe him and bring him peace.

His soulful blue eyes watch your expressions as your fingertips trail across his cheekbones, curling inwards to brush the back of your fingers down his jawline to his chin, mapping the structure of his face. There are libraries worth of literature extolling female beauty, but you’ve found precious few pieces that capture the truth of male beauty such as his. Your thumb traces gently over his lips, and you ghost a smile as he busses gently against your digit.

You move your hands to outline the shell of his ears, passing his earlobes between your fingers, sweeping down to cup his neck, pressingly on the tension points you feel corded there. He exhales deeply, leaning into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed. Tonight it’s all about making him feel special, not just because it’s his birthday, but because he spends so much of his time catering to the needs of others, most of all yours, and he deserves to be indulged.

Splaying your fingers upwards around the back of his head, you enjoy running them into his thick hair. He hums contentedly as you massage lightly. Then his breath hitches as you scrape your nails lightly across his scalp, the skin around his open shirt collar erupting into goosebumps. Oh, the responsiveness is so enchanting.

You lean forward and kiss his lips softly, just a brief touch. His eyes fly open, and he chases your lips as you pull away. He pleads with the most mournful expression, so you relent and press your lips to his again. His hands curl around your shoulders, their sizeable warmth at once both centring and sending you soaring. He kisses back slowly, opening his lips slightly, his tongue requesting permission to yours. Hands still in his hair, you pull closer, deepening the kiss. His arms now slide around your back to hold you close. It’s luscious and languid. Shared breaths and gentle flirtation.

You reach down and tug his shirt up. He assists your efforts, removing his arms from around you and pulling the garment up and over his head. You catalogue the sculpted plains of his arms, chest, and stomach. He is watching your face with a crooked smile; he knows all the telltale signs of your desire. Your tongue feels thick, wanting to run over every inch. For later, you tell yourself.

His brow knits in puzzlement as you circle him, coming to a halt behind him instead. You kiss the back of his neck, running your nose up into his hair, where his natural scent is most potent. On instinct, it draws you closer; your hands curl around his biceps as you press your upper body against him. The rasp of your tulle dress against his shoulder blades hitches his breath and yours, the friction causing your nipples to pebble heavily. Knowing he can feel it too—a little tease of what else will come later.

He is listening intently as you reach for the small glass vial you came in with, opening it and pouring a little oil into your palm. Usually, by now, he would be asking what you're doing, using the velvety tone that makes your body sing. Tonight he is quiet, but one look into his eyes would say everything his lips are not.

Notes of orange and bergamot swirl into the air as you massage the oil into your hands, warming it. His inhale is a sign he recognises the scent from the hours of pleasure in your bedroom. Usually, it is him massaging your body into a blissful state before slipping his fingers inside you, making you come over and over. More derailing thoughts you need to put aside.

You begin by running the flanks of your hands firmly down either side of his spine, all the way from his neck to his waist. His moan is one of relief, not desire, but your body reacts regardless; the sudden want to be filled by him is visceral. Your lips tingle to kiss him again, but you resist the urge, focussing on bringing him serenity.

Feeling the tension easing under your fingers as you work on the knots around his neck is a mutual reward. His breath is deep and even; he shifts to place both feet flat on the floor. You spend many minutes mapping the stress points in his back and kneading the flesh until it relents into a relaxed state. His hums and sighs act as the guide for your progress. You circle back to his front when it seems he is entirely free from any strain.

“Does that feel better, my love?” You know the answer, but asking gives you a moment to indulge your heart, appreciating the blissful look on his face as he nods contentedly.

He pulls you in for another kiss and gently bites your lower lip. The room grows a few degrees warmer, a sparking feeling notching up your spine, radiating out across your skin.

You run your hands heavily up his thighs, admiring the latent power you feel underneath the material, him watching your movements. Your hands reach his hips and pause, waiting for his gaze to meet yours. Then you start unbuttoning; you know he’s not wearing anything underneath today; he often doesn’t when you are home. It’s gratifying to watch his pupils dilate as you twist your mouth into a playful pout with each button relenting.

As you reach the last button, you grin broadly, grab his hand instead, and pull him bodily across the room towards the emerald green chaise. The one you have posed on countless times for him. He trails behind you with a carefree laugh, holding up his britches with his free hand.

“No need for modesty Mr Bridgerton” you tease as you pull him to a stop next to the chaise. He raises an eyebrow and lifts his hand, his britches falling to a heap on the floor. Your gaze descends to his cock, standing proud. So familiar to you now, but every time as tantalising and thrilling as the first time he showed you his body.

“Why do you ever wear clothes?” you think wistfully. Your cheeks flush as his lopsided smile tells you you have voiced your thoughts.

“If the lady wishes, I never will again in this house”, he whispers seductively. “But only if you only ever wear this dress” His fingers trace the neckline of your gown with feather-soft touches. “Or nothing at all.” His lips find the spot just below your earlobe that makes you shiver.

“This evening is supposed to be about me seducing you, birthday boy,” you admonish affectionately, pulling your neck away reluctantly, “not the other way around.”

“By all means, Mrs Bridgerton, please continue,” using that voice he knows makes your knees weak.

“Lay down,” you whisper.

He relaxes back on the chaise, one arm tucked behind his head, with an easy smile, an innate confidence in his nudity. You wish you had his skills to capture this moment on a canvas. You take your time surveying the sight before you, shameless almost in your ogling. Ladies of good breeding are not supposed to be so lascivious, but you can’t help it when it comes to your husband. He is gorgeous to you. And, based on how heads turn when he walks into a room, you are not alone in that sentiment. Not for the first time; you consider yourself very lucky he returned your feelings.

“Penny, for your thoughts, my love,” his arm reaching for you, his fingers gently circling your wrist.

“I was just thinking I am the luckiest woman in the world,” you reply truthfully, echoing his sentiment when you walked in earlier, leaning down to kiss the hand that holds your wrist.

His smile turns almost shy, and he averts his eyes, long eyelashes fluttering as a slight blush colours his cheeks. It makes your heart melt and your pussy clench simultaneously. How he can do that astounds you. You want to wrap him in the tightest, sweetest hug but also fuck him so hard your teeth rattle. What a beautiful contradiction.

“I had all these plans,” you sigh, “but I find myself impatient for you, my love.”

“Tell me about them,” he requests, looking back up at you, his lips tugging into a playful, beautiful crooked grin.

“I planned to tease you for ages, kiss every inch of your skin from your ankles to your hair,” you reply, your gaze tracking up his body again, fingers itching to trail over his contours.

“Sounds lovely,” his voice teasing.

“Mmmm, but,” you hitch up your dress and straddle him, settling your hips on his waist, your dress fanning out over him, your fingers tracing the constellation of freckles on his breastbone, “you are too tempting, Mr Bridgerton, and I find I just want you inside me.”

“That sounds even better,” he admits, his voice rough as he grabs your knee and runs a hand up your thigh under the gauzy layers. His questing fingers slide between your legs, and you moan as he expertly flexes them against you.

You grab his forearm. “No, my darling, it’s you who gets the pleasure tonight,” you counter, gently shaking your head and pulling his hand away.

“But I want to watch you. I love your face when I do this to you,” Benedict pleads, his eyes so beseeching.

“Then allow me,” you offer with a raised eyebrow.

Gathering your dress slightly, you slide your fingers between your legs, loving the wetness you find there, all for him. You moan gently, holding his gaze as your fingers move. His grip on your thigh tightens; you intuit what he is asking for and speed up your ministrations. You bite your lip and groan loudly, not daring to break eye contact. His other hand behind his head moves to grip your other thigh; his Adam's apple bobs visibly as he swallows, and his chest rises and falls more visibly.

“I need you,” his voice breathy and low, “please…”

Your fingers slip from your body and reach behind to grab him, and he groans as you give him a few gentle pumps with your hand before shuffling backwards to line him up with your body. Watching many expressions flit across his face, revelling in his breathy anticipation, you allow his tip inside. His moan is like poetry, and you sink fractionally lower, loving how it feels when he invades your body—the insistent stretch and heat. You roll your hips, eager to envelop him but also to maintain a slow tease. He looks at you pleadingly.

“What do you need, my beautiful birthday boy?” you ask softly.

“Please, my love, take all of me; I need you,” his voice sounds so needy it makes your chest flutter.

You smile as his eyes burn into yours, then sink down, gasping at the hot, plunging invasion pulling you so taunt. The lustful noise he emits makes you pulse around him, which in turn makes him call out your name, a wanton call and response that has you grabbing his hands and placing them on your breasts. The tulle of your dress scrunches against your nipple, sequins catching against your sensitive skin and between his fingers. He slips his hand inside the neckline and grabs your naked flesh as you press into his touch and start to rock gently.

Usually, you talk to each other when you make love, whispering debauched thoughts or just communicating how you feel. But tonight, you enjoy a silent, almost psychic connection, something more sensual and decadent, staring into each other's eyes, saying everything without words. Your movements are fluid but slow and deliberate, savouring the intoxicating feel of him sliding within you.

He lifts your left hand from his body and brings it to his mouth, brushing his lips over the wedding ring you wear proudly. You mirror his actions, taking his left hand, but instead plunge his wedding ring finger into your mouth, sucking it gently, the metal of his ring knocking against your teeth as you rise and fall. Hoping to convey through your actions the depth of emotion and passion you feel for this man.

He groans and drives his hips upwards, sliding even deeper, catching against the top of your channel, your toes flexing at the pleasure that causes. You call his name, releasing his hand, your nails scratching over his abs. Something more carnal, taking you both somewhere frantic.

You surge up and down, chasing all the sensations, his hands running down your back, warm through the layers of your dress, grasping your hips and pulling your down harder into him as your fingernails drag against the ripples of his abdomen muscles. Over and over until your thighs burn, and still, you don't ever want to stop, revelling in the feeling you get every time he nudges that place inside you that makes all the exertion worth it.

You see in his eyes as he is approaching his peak, the desperation for you to join him, making you reach under your dress and touch yourself, him hissing encouragements as you do so. His voice rockets you to the edge, the sonorous rumbling through his body that sweeps you over to a place that is a kaleidoscope of bliss; breath stolen, body tensing and releasing, firing a euphoria in every fibre from your scalp to your toes. Distantly, you can hear him climaxing, his fingers a vice-like grip as his groan turns guttural, and he holds you down fiercely. All his muscles tense in rigid relief as he comes hard. He looks so beautiful in this moment, biting his lip and screwing his eyes shut, that you collapse onto him and kiss his jaw, even biting gently in a way that makes him more vocal and his grip stronger.

Then as the intensity of the moment passes, all is serene as you recover together, breaths evening out, hands laced together. These quiet moments after the passionate storm feel the most intimate—the languid caresses, soft kisses and whispered words.

“Thank you for the most wonderful birthday gift,” he sighs, sated, as you lay atop him, your head on his shoulder, drawing idle shapes on his pectoral muscle with the tips of your fingers.

“A massage and making love are not your gift, my love,” you refute quietly, twisting your head to look up into his inquisitive eyes. “You deserve those and so much more. No, your gift is something else entirely. There is a reason I dressed like this, to look like the nicest gift wrapping that I possibly could,” you explain and sit up, straddling him again.

“I will always think of you as the best gift in my life,” he chuckles happily.

“Not me, Benedict.” You grab his hand and place it on your dress, just below your belly button.

“There is a gift in here for you, my love. It will probably take another, hmm, seven months, but I think it will be the greatest gift you, and indeed I, could ever receive. A beautiful gift we made together.”

His breath catches, and his mouth opens a fraction in surprise; his eyes suddenly go glassy and soft with emotion.

“Are you with child, my love?” he murmurs excitedly.

“I believe I am Mr Bridgerton. Or should I say papa?” you smile indulgently. Suddenly he is sitting up and pulling you into an embrace with his other arm, his lips finding yours.

“This is the best gift ever,” he grins, his eyes damp, his hand cradling your still-flat belly as if it is the most precious thing in the world.

“Happy birthday, Mr Bridgerton,” you beam as you place your hand over his, “from both of us.”

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @wysteria-clad @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton smut #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #1k notes #1k notes omg you guys!

[giuliadesu]

𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 | bang chan

kpop | giuliadesu

fem!reader ⍛ fluff, hurt/comfort; mentions of stress, anxiety ⍛ 4.4k w

red lights by bang chan & hyunjin

chan was tired. the rehearsals for the comeback, the stress from the company, the deadlines for the songs creeping up on him… it was  just too much, and he was not sure for how long he would (and could) be able to handle all of this before snapping.

it was late, well past the time they should have been done with dance practices. looking at the sweaty yet delighted faces of his friends, he almost felt bad: happiness and joy should be flowing through his veins, not annoyance and fatigue. despite the thought, he couldn’t help the feelings cruising through his mind. at that point, he wasn’t even paying attention to what the other guys were saying. chan was constantly lost in his own thoughts and he stopped in his tracks only when they passed by one the practice rooms.

it was supposed to be empty, considering the late hour, yet there was music coming out of it — music he knew all too well because he wrote it. 

that was enough to catch his attention, considering his group was the last one to leave the area of the building dedicated to the practice rooms, and all the other dancers that trained with them went home already. chan let his teammates know he’d stop by his studio and that he’d see them tomorrow, then curiously leaned against the glass door that was left ajar.

and what he saw completely captivated him.

red pointe shoes were delicately gliding against the floor, ever so elegant and gentle; strong yet thin legs moved flawlessly, creating a cadenza of life that permeated the room; toned arms accompanied the movement of the body, swimming through air as if it was the only thing they were meant to do.

but when his gaze finally lingered over your face, chan became even more surprised: he knew you. two hours ago you were dancing with them as if there was no tomorrow, giving your all as you always did during practices and rehearsals alike. how could you have so much strength left in you? all the dancers were extremely tired, and rightfully so! the amount of effort they put into training before shows and shootings was no lighter nor different.

yet, right in front of his amazed gaze, you were dancing without a care in the world. your spatial awareness allowed you to move around with your pretty eyes closed, a choreography known by heart and probably practiced thousands of times before.

and in that precise instant, chan knew what was missing from him: what started as the dream of a lifetime, and the once-in-a-lifetime possibility to make a career out of it, now turned into a mindless routine; deadlines piling up, muscles aching for a break — the freedom he longed for seemed so far away.

on a slightly happier note, he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful and breathtaking you looked, while you gently graced the floor with the elegance of your steps. and seeing you perform your magic on a song he wrote and that was so special and peculiar, made his heart skip a beat.

when the music ended, you collapsed onto yourself as the final step in that intricate pattern of movements, so foreign to the usual style he got accustomed to seeing you dance in. it was only in that moment that he allowed himself to reveal his presence. moving into the room, he clapped his hands, a bright smile spreading along his features.

“wow, hey, that was absolutely beautiful.”

the surprised gasp that left your mouth made him smile even more.

“chan! what are you doing here? you should be resting, today was rough.”

ah, you were always so sweet to them. he liked to think of you as a close friend, especially after all the years spent working together, starting before their debut through all their shows, comebacks and shootings; those choreographies wouldn’t exist without you and your team, after all.

“hey, the same applies to you as well, young lady — it’s not like you worked any less hard.”

the gentle banter went on for a little while, and in the meantime you collected your things and switched your pointe shoes for the baggy pants you usually wore to practice. you were surprised to realize that chan was waiting for you, despite the tiredness evident on his features.

since he seemed to have a soft spot for you, it was not uncommon for his friends to ask for your help with coaxing him into healthier and less stressful habits and, even if today was not the case, your mind was already set on trying to convince him to go back to his apartment instead of his studio at the dorms.

he once told you that he bought a very small apartment with an equally tiny balcony that overlooked the han river and, coincidentally, you lived in the same area, just one street over — clearly, this played in your favor when trying to convince him to leave the jype building for the night.

“ramen by the river?”

one hour later, you were sitting on the banks by the han river, a cup of instant ramen warming your hands. it was not a strange occurrence: more often than not, when either of you needed someone to talk and vent to outside of working hours, this is where it would happen. considering that it was well past one in the morning, both of you decided to simply forego wearing your masks.

the concrete bench was cold from where chan was sitting cross-legged in front of you, yet it was a very grounding sensation — especially if compared to the heat inside the dancing rooms.

“red lights, uh?” 

the blush on your cheeks became evident, and he was careful enough to hide his smirk with the ramen cup.

“sorry, i should’ve asked you if it was okay for me to create a choreography on that… and i shouldn’t have been practicing it at the studio.”

you were fumbling with your hands while trying to keep them hidden in your lap, ramen forgotten by your side along with the konbini wooden chopsticks. brows furrowed, chan gently grabbed your hands — they were so small and cold when in his own palms! his eyes searched for yours while rubbing soothing circles with his thumb over the soft expanse of your skin.

“are you kidding? that was the coolest thing i’ve ever seen!” 

his eyes turned into shining crescent moons, dimples on full display as his lips turned into a joyous smile. the fact that you didn’t retract your hands made him feel better about his actions. for once in his life, he decided to follow the quickened beating of his heart, instead of the cold rationality provided by his brain.

he wanted to experience freedom again, and wanted to do that with you. coming to that conclusion felt surreal, yet so right all at the same time.

with that reckless resolution engraved in his mind, he decided to shoot his shot, while walking you home from your little nocturnal escapade. he bundled you up in his black hoodie, as you forgot yours at the studio, and couldn’t help but notice how you literally melted in the soft fabric.

“so…”

chan’s voice was soft, vowel dragged out more than necessary. when the entrance of your apartment building came into view, he knew it was time. he shoved his hands in the pockets of the black joggers he picked for practice, turning to face you and giving you his full attention.

“would you mind if i danced with you? while you do that breathtaking choreography?”

“what?!”

“you just looked so carefree and beautiful! i’ve never seen someone create something so unique over that song. i want to experience that freedom with you — if you’re okay with that, of course.”

you were absolutely at a loss for words. the bang chan, the man you had the fattest crush on ever since you first met him seven years ago — he gave you his hoodie, called you beautiful and said he wanted to dance with you.

your eyes fell on his right hand. from its place in the pocket, it had now moved over his abdomen; you knew he was nervous, it was some sort of unconscious behavior. just, this time he didn’t need to be, not around you.

with the sweetest smile across your features, you took his hand in your smaller ones, barely emerging from the sleeves of the hoodie.

rising to the tip of your toes, you placed the softest kiss over his cheek, resting your lips on the skin near his mouth for a bit longer compared to what would have been considered appropriate for friends. a gentle whisper was murmured a mere breath apart from him, gazes locking into one another as if that was their sole scope.

“i would love to dance with you, chris.”

chan was smitten. he was absolutely, undeniably, incredibly, atrociously whipped for you.

it was not much of a surprise: he fell for you the second you entered jype together as trainees - him as an idol, you as a dancer. but back then you were both too young, and too focused on trying to make a career out of your dreams to have time to focus on something like romance and love.

then, when he debuted, he quickly became overwhelmed by all the responsibilities he had towards his members and stays. he knew you deserved better, someone who could be with you all the time; that didn’t stop him from composing love songs with you in mind. after all, he spent almost every day with you and your team, so it was not like his feelings ever had a chance of wavering. seeing you grow and dance and becoming the most beautiful version of yourself was enough for him.

or so he thought.

after witnessing you dance on red lights, something just clicked: maybe he was tired, maybe he realised he couldn’t keep writing love songs about you without freely expressing his feelings, maybe he just wanted to know if he had a chance with you.

in the months following that night, chan tried his best to be closer to you, and not only when you had your nightly rendezvous in the studio, no — you had a key to his apartment and he had one to yours. his pantry started filling with your favourite foods and snacks, his wardrobe sported some of your comfy clothes and a basket in his bathroom held your skincare routine and your shower products. he almost cried when he once spent the night at your apartment after a rough day and realised you had done the same for him.

he loved watching you dancing as he played the piano for you. seeing you nap on the couch in his studio after practice, tucked in in one of his hoodies. hearing you ramble as you ate a midnight snack on his balcony, always with a smile on his face as he caressed your calves resting on his lap. knowing he had you in his life and never taking that for granted.

chan felt his heart grow a size too big when he started noticing how much you loved his closest friends: on days when practice ran for longer hours, you would always have a tupperware of peeled peaches with a pinch of sugar for him and felix, and a chicken breast sandwich for changbin. when han was going trough dark days, you’d be next to him, silently yet acting as a grounding presence for the boy. hyunjin and minho knew they could always go to you to talk or have a practice buddy if they wanted to rehearse their choreographies a bit more; seungmin and jeongin tried to rope you in on their schemes and pranks, especially when they were at chan’s expenses.

but, selfishly, what he loved the most was noticing how some of his habits rubbed off on you. sometimes you’d peek into his studio, tapping lightly on his shoulder; by the time he had turned around, he would be met by your arms spread wide and your gentle voice asking “big hug?” with a sweet smile on your face. his lips would automatically turn upside down, dimples on full display for you, as his arms wrapped around you. or when you would close your eyes with a smile when eating something you liked.

chan wasn’t sure how to exactly tackle the topic, so for now he just basked in the comfort you gifted him, never expecting anything in return.

you hated seeing chris crying. it didn’t matter if he was on tour on the other side of the world, or just a street over — whenever you spotted his eyes becoming red, your heart would shrink in pain.

it had been a long day. winter finally arrived, bringing cold days and a foggy weather. chan sent you a message to tell you that he had a meeting with the company and then he would go boxing a bit, so you didn’t have to wait for him at the studio; before going, he didn’t forget to peck your forehead, as he always did.

you couldn’t help but worry a little, when he had to go and have those meetings. something in his behaviour would change, as if he expected to be scolded for something or to have even more limitations forced upon himself — although he would accept them without complaints, so long his friends could keep reaching for their dream. the uneasy feeling you had wouldn’t leave you, so you opted to send him a simple message of a black heart, a gentle reminder you were with him every step of the way.

a couple of hours later, the clock of your phone showed it was almost midnight. chris still hadn’t answered you, and the guys told you that they hadn’t seen him ever since he went for the meeting; even their manager was in the dark of what was happening.

the weather looked like it would start pouring rain any second now, and you didn’t know if you wanted to go the the company and check if by any chance he was still in the studio, or if maybe you should give him a call just to be sure he was alright.

as you were about to leave the comfort of your couch, you felt your phone vibrate with a new notification. it was from chan. “i’ll be over in 10, is that okay?”

it didn’t matter how many times it had happened before, having chris silently crying on your chest was something that destroyed you. he was completely soaked, the downpour caught up to him as he was on his way to your apartment. sitting on the edge of your bathtub, he had his strong arms around your waist, pulling you even closer in between his legs; you gently threaded your fingers through his damp hair, pressing soft kisses to the crown of his head — trying in any way to alleviate the pain he was feeling. an eerie silence settled in the room, occasionally broken by his soft sniffles muffled by your (his, if you were to be completely honest) hoodie. after minutes that felt like hours, you moved a little to cup his face between your hands. red, swollen eyes looked at you, tears carving a path over the inhuman amount of foundation they forced him to wear.

“let’s remove your makeup, okay?”

with gentle movements you pressed the cotton pad over his honeyed skin, finally removing all those layers of powder and foundation that covered it. you were even softer around the eyes, considering they were already red from crying. then you lifted his face, bending down a little to place the lightest of kisses at the corner of his lips.

“take a warm shower, i’ll put your spare clothes in the dryer and get started on some hot chocolate.”

at that he hugged you even tighter, before allowing you to leave the room. a couple of minutes later, the sound of dripping water filled the apartment.

regardless of the circumstances, there was always something special in having chris laying on top of you with his head in the crook of your neck. hair still damp, he let his hands sneak under your hoodie, so to rest on your soft skin. his breath was tickling your skin, and you pulled him even closer to you when you felt he was ready to speak.

“chan’s room is no more.”

a soft whisper against your pulse.

“apparently i’m not doing enough of what they want, so they’re taking stays away from me… i don’t know what to do anymore.”

that was not what you were expecting. you were furious to say the least, but anger wouldn’t solve anything. your fingers found their rightful place in his hair, gently massaging his scalp. what could you say to make him feel better? you wanted him to smile again, to see him happy.

“it’s not your fault, chris. i know it hurts, but stays are always with you! they’re not gonna let something that is out of your control hinder the love and admiration they hold for you.”

he finally moved his head from his comfort spot, hovering over you. the duvet slipped from his shoulders, revealing the large tank top he used to sleep when at your place. his eyes never left yours, and he just nuzzled into your palms when you cupped his cheeks once again.

“damn, what would i do without you?”

stroking his cheekbones, you just gave him a small yet genuine smile.

“even if the world is coming down, i won’t let you drown. even if you start to lose your hold, i won’t let you go.”

the night was spent cuddling, with chan that finally gathered enough courage to tell you everything that was troubling him. you listened, providing gentle words of comfort and soft kisses over his collarbones. you understood his anguish and the pain he felt when the company decided to take away from him one of the activities he cherished the most; it was a way to keep a connection with the people that made their dream possible, to <make sure they knew they weren’t just numbers on a youtube video or sales for a chart.

rain kept falling well into the wee hours of the morning, a perfect backdrop for the vulnerable side the wonderful man in front of you decided to showcase. his dark hair kept covering his eyes, and you would promptly move them, not wanting to miss those beautiful eyes for even one second.

that night, under the covers of your small bed, something clicked. the thin line separating friendship and love started to fade — and maybe, just maybe, it would allow you both to stop at a red light and reflect on your feelings.

green. going to bed at 5 am after pulling an all-nighter to work on the new album.

red. waking up with you on the couch next to him, cuddled into his side, the night spent doing a studio ghibli marathon.

green. producing, training, practicing — repeat.

red. a dinner in a cozy, family-run restaurant with both teams; everyone was cheerful, and chris was right next to you, feeding you bits from his plate.

green. vocal training, more training, more rehearsals, makeup tests.

red. your tiny hands massaging his sore shoulders after he took a shower, almost falling asleep on your thighs at the pleasant sensation.

green. comeback photos, packing outfits for the upcoming tour, interview after interview, appointment after appointment.

red. dancing with you in the studio, then eating a cup of ramen by the han river — where it all began.

green. loading the van for the trip to the airport, doing last minute checks; you giving felix a small piece of paper, with the promise of handing it to chan on the last day of tour, when the closing piece of the concert will be playing.

red. the last night before leaving for a three-months-long tour, in his studio; singing youtiful together, over an old mock track that had only chan’s vocals on it; looking into each other’s eyes, time stopping.

the last thing chris wanted to do on the last concert of the tour was crying. 

yet there he was, sitting on the floor, youtiful playing in the background, stays singing together. they were not singing, as they had prepared a surprise video to thank all the people who allowed them to reach for their dreams.

it always felt surreal, playing in seoul. after all, it was were everything started, where they met one another, where they found a new family and gave a new meaning to the word brotherhood. and this was not only related to the eight of them, oh no: their managers, your dance team that created all of their choreographies, the staff they saw every day — that counted as family as well, helping and supporting them after all these years.

chan had many reasons for breaking down on stage: the road leading to this comeback and this tour had been bumpy to say the least; they renewed their contracts with jype, and for once the leader in him decided to come out during the talks, bargaining for better conditions and an incredible amount of freedom, from production of their albums to shootings and what they were allowed to say in interviews. he couldn’t believe he did it, and the confirmation arrived just minutes before they were supposed to go on stage, providing them with a new rush of adrenaline and a new significance to this last concert.

then felix came to him, just as the first notes of youtiful started echoing in the arena; he gave him a hug, and gave him the little piece of paper he had safeguarded for the last three months.

“if you are reading this, it means little sunshine succeeded in keeping it safe from prying eyes — yay! youtiful is playing just about now, and you’re probably sitting on the stage, a bit out of the way; i bet your eyes are red and you’re fighting back the tears. let them fall, let them ruin your makeup and show your emotions. even if you’re the leader, you’re allowed to be vulnerable, just like you did that night in my arms. i always loved the differences between stage-chan and normal-chan, although i love both versions of you equally; you are fierce yet vulnerable, flirty yet shy, a perfectionist afraid of mistakes. you’re a beautiful contradiction, you know that? i’m so proud of you. i haven’t seen you in three months (we really need to tackle your very unhealthy work habits — we could’ve facetimed a couple of times!), but i know you’ve been giving it your all, as you always do. take a second to look around you: the kids are either crying or hugging one another, and the stays behind you are singing with smiles on their faces. does it really seem like you disappointed someone? i love you, chris, more than what would be considered appropriate for friends; and every time you perform and show yourself i am reminded why i fell for the cute australian guy that joined jype almost ten years ago. feel proud of that little demon inside of you! be the person you were writing about in youtiful, be the little star that can both shine and blink. okay, this is supposed to be just a little note, but all i’ve written is true! big hug — i’m proud of you and i love you ❤︎”

smiling through tears, a new wave of excitement overcame him. he needed to see you, hug you, kiss you.

an hour later he was in the lobby of jype, waiting for you to pick up the phone, pacing back and forth. one ring, two rings — at the third your voice finally echoed through the speakers.

“chris! sorry, i couldn’t find my phone.”

“i cannot breathe without you being right by my side, i’ll die. so can you please come over closer? hold me tight, right now?”

he knew he was being daring, he knew you might say no or hang up the call; and the amount of time you were taking to answer him was giving him a panic attack. yet, when you finally replied, he could feel the smile in your voice.

“wait for me.”

when he reached home, he just had the time to leave his backpack by the couch before he heard someone timidly knocking on the door. his brain went on autopilot: he swung it open, pulled you into his arms and hugged you as if his life depended on it. three months without hugging you, without hearing your giggles, without sharing his life with you.

“i’m sorry it took me so long to realise it, i’m sorry you had to wait, i’m so sorry-”

his rambling was interrupted by you cupping is cheeks, standing on the tip of your toes, and placing a soft kiss over his lips. then, a whisper against those fluffy clouds.

“it’s okay. if it meant loving you, i would’ve waited until the end of time.”

chan felt like he could cry again. a tsunami of emotions washed over him, and in the spur of the moment he picked you up and spun around, beaming at the sound of your laugh. then he collapsed over his black couch, the one where you spent so many nights cuddling together, your weight over his.

“i love you.”

a peck on your lips.

“i love you so much.”

another peck.

“thank you for dancing into my life with the gentleness of your steps, thank you for being there for me when i was at my worst, thank you for loving me.”

one more kiss and a tighter hug sealed that magic moment. giggles filled the room, as chris felt like a child who was receiving his favourite candy, discovering the amazing sensation of being loved; the soft touch of your fingers through his longer hair acquired a new meaning, you nuzzling into his neck became his favorite thing, holding your hand with fingers intertwined was suddenly his new lockscreen.

red lights became his favourite song, the epitome of his happiness, ready to tackle a new season with you by his side as soon as the red light turned green.

© giuliadesu. please do not copy, translate, use in videos or reupload on other platforms and sites. it is strictly forbidden to feed any part of my content to ai.

#𝐤𝐩𝐨𝐩 #𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 #𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧 #𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 #stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids x female reader #skz #skz x reader #skz fluff #bang chan #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #bang chan x female reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #bang chan imagines #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x female reader

[thursdaystarchild]

𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒄 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆.

anton is a loved musician.

his works are everywhere. be it a music store, a clothing store, heck even a restaurant will play his songs.

his fans love his songs, especially his lyrics. it's so full of love and content, like he's actually inlove. which he is, it's just nobody else knows yet.

the inspiration behind his music is his lovely bestfriend of 10 years, and girlfriend of 2 years. behind every song that he writes, you are always beside him—helping him create a melody, a beat, a sound. it was your own bonding moment, always a harmonious one because the two of you are able to have fun and enjoy without being bombarded with cameras.

the world knew you were a close friend of anton, his treasured childhood friend but they didn't know he confessed to you with the same song that went insanely popular because of its melancholy melody and daring lyrics.

you are so precious to him.

even right now, seated comfortably on the space between anton's crossed legs, you were humming a random tune you came up with, his studio microphone already in your hands as he busy himself with clicking some files on his large computer.

it was comforting how this is almost your daily routine after coming back from university everyday. visiting your boyfriend in his wide studio and bringing him food he personally requested—of course he pays you back with money more than you payed with plus a lot of kisses and quality time.

"that's a pretty tone, sweets." he calmly tells you, kissing your temple lightly. you hum, unaware of the smitten eyes he has on you. "and you're really pretty too."

that, your ears catch. your face reddening in a span of seconds as he watches you quietly with a cute chuckle escaping his pretty lips.

anton can just get used to this, he already has. it's been 2 years since you started dating and he made his intentions clear that he'll always fluster you whenever he has the chance. "focus on your work, love." you pulled your hands away from the recording button to gently move his face away from staring at you to the computer infront of him—he turns back anyway and you huff defeated.

"but you are a part of my work. my lovely, little music muse." he grins at you mischievously, lithe fingers tickling your sides softly to emite a small laughter out of you. you're beautiful, he thinks. whatever he did in his past life to meet you now and have you by himself, he was just thankful.

"gosh, anton. you're killing me here!" you laugh aloud, squirming in his hold as he peppers you with kisses that leaves you in a haze, because wow, his lips are soft.

"yeah, yeah. but hey, one day i'll introduce you to the whole world."

your laughter slowly lowered as you look at him in the eye, he only holds sincerity and love for you, screw him and his head over heels emotions, but he was honest and genuine.

"i know, you always keep your words." a smile graced your lips, your hands delicately fixing his bangs from the earlier fun you both had, his protective eye glasses falling from his nose too, and you fix that for him.

"i love you." he tells you, so tender that you think he'll break if he even says it one more time. anton leaned closer to you, his hands finding your wrist to stop the movement it's doing to his hair.

a kiss to your forehead, to your nose, and a passionate one to your lips.

ah yes, his music muse. in his arms tonight and to more nights in the future. only his, for him to love and adore. for him to write songs to and about. you're just that person, his harmony.

I'm gonna marry your daughter

And make her my wife

I want her to be the only girl that I'll love for the rest of my life

And give her the best of me 'til the day that I die, yeah

I'm gonna marry your princess

And make her my queen

She'll be the most beautiful bride that I've ever seen

I can't wait to smile

As she walks down the aisle

On the arm of her father

On the day that I marry your daughter

#anton x reader #riize anton x reader #riize anton lee x reader #riize lee anton x reader #riize x reader #anton fluff #anton lee fluff #lee anton fluff

[wannaeatramyeon]

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Hansu & Taehoon talk

Before you come back to the studio. Follow up to this one for @razypie. Some Hansu crumbs specially for you 🫶

"When did you and Y/N start dating?"

Taehoons stumbles on his kick, almost missing the sandbag entirely. Regaining his composure, he whirls round on his dad.

"What the hell are you on about, old man?"

Hansu sighs, taking his glasses off and wiping them. Taehoon is in one of those moods is he? Honestly, why is he such a brat. Hansu doesn't remember being such a delinquent in his youth. Must have gotten it from his mother's side.

Patience patience, Hansu is the adult. He needs to gently guide his son. "She's a nice girl, Taehoon. Don't mess around with her."

Taehoon throws his arms out in exasperation, face scowling and defensive. The hell? "I'm not even doing anything!"

"I've seen the way you both flirt when you should be training."

Ok, that claim is all lies and slander. If there is one thing that Taehoon takes seriously, it's Taekwondo. "What the fuck, dad?"

"You're just a very hands on instructor, that's all."

Hands on?! Are you kidding. Taehoon is nothing if not a professional. Well, professional might be stretching it a bit but.

Fuck. His ears redden. Has he been that obvious that even his goddamn dad is lecturing him. So transparent that Hansu saw through his feelings weeks before he could even come to terms with it?

Taehoon crosses his arms tightly, shoulders creeping up to his ears in mortification. He will not look at his dad. He cannot.

Hansu ploughs on, glasses glinting deviously in the light, "And how often you go around to her place."

"You told me to!"

"I mentioned it. And only the first time."

The tips of Taehoon's ear are burning a furious crimson.

"You're there almost every day."

Taehoon can't bear this anymore. He takes to the sandbag again as a form of distraction. If he hits it hard enough, loud enough, he can drown the old man out.

"All the snacks in our house are missing." WHACK!

"I'm pretty sure you didn't eat it all on your own." WHACK!

"You took the last of our kimchi the other week." WHACK!

"And my lunch the other day for Y/N." WHACK!

"She clearly likes you too." WHACK!

"I think she liked you even before she met you." WHACK!

Taehoon outwardly grumbles at this, his kicks landing quicker and quicker. Inside though? Preening like a peacock.

"Though it took some warming up again when she did meet you but-"

"Shut. It." Taehoon spits out, followed by an effortless 1080 kick.

"I'm serious, son. Don't let that one go." WHACK! "I like her."

Oh.

Taehoon stills in his movement.

That makes two of them.

Like a little kid, confessing to his dad that he was the one that stole the last cookie and broke the jar too, Taehoon mumbles, "...I like her too."

Hansu looks on at his son in pride, "Good."

Finally.

Someone to keep his delinquent son in line. Someone on Hansu's side. Someone kind and understanding. That Taehoon can talk to, share his secrets and feelings and worries that he never could to his old man. To help Taehoon-

Suddenly, the cold grip of fear inches its way around Hansu's heart. "Taehoon?"

Taehoon turns around at this, already dreading whatever comes out of his mouth next. This conversation is nothing short of torture.

"I'm too young to be a grandpa."

"DAD!"

#taehoon seong #taehoon x reader #viral hit #viral hit manhwa #viral hit x reader #viral hit webtoon #viral hit headcanons #how to fight #how to fight manhwa #how to fight webtoon #how to fight headcanons #seong taehoon x reader #seong taehoon #seong taehun #seong taehun x reader #taehun seong #taehun seong x reader #hansu seong #seong hansu #wannaeatramyeon

[morganbritton132]

could we have some more ‘steve on a good day’ or just steve being cute and sweet and making eddie melt? i re read steve singing in the kitchen and would love any more fluff

your series is wonderful i get exited for any updates! :)

Eddie is live streaming in his studio one evening when Steve appears behind him and shoves a hat on his head. Not only did Steve master the second row in crochet, he finally made the hat Eddie requested. It’s not perfect by any means, but it’s finished and Steve is proud of it.

He can’t stop smiling when he does his little jazz hands like, “Ta-dah. It’s a gift.”

Eddie loves it.

 

Eddie posts a Tiktok one time where he’s laughing so hard that the camera is shaking. His movements are clumsy when he moves but you can clearly see that he’s in the middle of working on some kind of craft as he settles in next to Steve, who is sitting cross-legged on the floor but is bend forward so his head is face down into the carpet.

Initially, it looks like Steve’s upset but then you notice that his shoulders are shaking and the choked sound he’s making is laughter. Eddie pulls him up and Steve has to take his glasses off to wipe away tears.

Eddie’s arm is tight around his shoulder even though he’s still laughing when he says, “Stevie. Stevie, tell the people what you forgot.”

“Forgot ‘m dyslexic.”

They’re both cracking up but Eddie eggs him on, “Show ‘em your scarf.”

Steve holds up the half a scarf he’s crocheted. Spelled across the work is the letters ‘E b b i’ for Eddie. Neither manage to say anything else before they’re laughing again, practically falling into themselves before the video ends.

 

Eddie manages to get a few good minutes of Steve sweeping off the deck in the backyard off while using the broom as a microphone. He sings along to a Corroded Coffin song. Though he gets some of the words wrong, it’s probably Eddie’s favorite version of it.

 

Eddie’s in the middle of a live stream when Steve tilts his head in his direction and kisses him. Eddie asks, “What was that for?”

And Steve answers simply, sunny like he always is when he’s happy, “Cause I love you.”

#People in the comments: Where do I get a man that looks at me like that? #Eddie responding: a video rental store. I checked him out and never returned him. #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson