#Flow capture and flow flush

[govindhtech]

AWS Network Firewall: Flow-Based Control Improves Security

AWS Network Firewall

Using AWS Network Firewall for Flow Management Improves Network Security

AWS Network Firewall manages stateful network firewalls and intrusion detection and prevention. It lets you apply security rules to VPC network traffic for better control. This blog article describes flow capture and flow flush, new AWS Network Firewall technologies that increase network visibility and security policy enforcement. While flow flush selectively terminates some or all flows, flow capture provides complete access into current network flows for monitoring and troubleshooting. These features help with network monitoring, troubleshooting, policy changes, and security circumstances that need isolating infected computers quickly.

Traffic flow is permanent if the firewall allows it. For compliance with your revised security needs, you may want to analyse and re-apply the new policy on existing flows after changing firewall rules, such as switching from a broader to a more targeted firewall policy.

This is especially beneficial in fast-paced security scenarios or dynamic cloud settings with changing security rules. These new features allow users better insight and control over this crucial firewall activity by natively recognising active flows and selectively flushing their connection data from the firewall's inspection engine. You may maintain network policy enforcement during scheduled security upgrades or security events by flushing dubious network traffic flows.

The AWS Network Firewall API and AWS Management Console offer these features.

Before AWS starts employing these new functionalities, let's examine some new terminology.

Terminology comprehension:

AWS Network Firewall's active flow is a monitored network connection with a uniquely identified source IP, destination IP, source port, destination port, and protocol. Flow capture and flush characteristics refer to active network flows as non-closed. This includes TCP sessions in the NEW or ESTABLISHED stage.

Flow filters match active network flows based on one or more parameters, such as source IP address, destination IP address, source port, destination port, or protocol. One flow filter matches several network flows that meet requirements.

This firewall function captures all active flows at a certain period using the supplied flow filter or filters. This functionality lets you see network traffic, security events, and flows before flushing. According to your flow filter(s), flow flush flushes a subset of active flows from the firewall flow table at a certain time. After flushing, packets are appraised as midstream flows based on stream exception criteria.

Summary: Flow capture and flush workflow

The open-source intrusion detection and prevention system Suricata is used by AWS Network Firewall for stateful inspection. When evaluating VPC traffic, the firewall stores detailed connection status data in a flow table. This means the firewall knows the full context of every network connection, not simply packets.

Depending on flow filter criteria like IP address, port, or protocol, you may need to flush flows to clear all active flows (during troubleshooting or maintenance) or selectively (during firewall rule updates, to flush long-running flows). Either flush flows directly using pre-specified filters or catch flows for examination before flushing. The firewall operation history lets you track and verify capture and flush actions.

Check out the flush and flow capture features:

These functions are accessible via console:

Enter the Amazon VPC console after login into AWS management.

Select Firewalls under Network Firewall in the navigation pane.

Firewalls: Select the firewall to collect or flush flows.

Firewall activities includes Configure flow capture and flush.

Capturing flow

Using full or partial 5-tuple filters to capture active flows is covered here. In the same VPC, AWS Network Firewall checks traffic on subnets 10.0.1.0/24 and 10.0.2.0/24. Find and flush active TCP port 80 traffic from 10.0.1.0/24 to 10.0.2.0/24.

Use the console to capture flow:

Select Configure Flow Capture to discover active flows. A new window appears.

Select Availability Zone.

The destination or source address must be entered.

Protocol (ICMP, TCP, UDP, IPv6-ICMP, or SCTP), Source Port, Destination Port, and Minimum Age of Flow are optional.

Select “Add filter.” Add up to 20 filters using entire or partial 5-tuple combinations.

Select “Start capture.”

Only one filter is needed to catch TCP port 80 traffic from subnet 10.0.1.0/24 to 10.0.2.0/24. Additional filters are shown to demonstrate filter choices. Specialised filters speed up operation.

After capture, the flow operation displays filter flows.

Flushing

Learn how to flush flows using a whole or partial 5-tuple in this section. Use the capture approach in the previous section to detect active flows before flushing. You may also specify new filters to flush certain active flows, starting a new flush operation.

Console-initiated flow flush:

Option 1: Record, erase

Select “Configure Flow.” Use the Configure flow capture process to cleanse flows that match the filters you previously defined.

Select Start flush in to flush.

Option 2: Direct flush

For firewall operations, choose “Set up flow flush”.

Set filter settings.

Start flushing.

You may inspect flushed flows after the flow flush using either option.

You can collect and flush flow to validate flushing again. Clients usually rejoin after flushing flows. The firewall's flow table and flow capture data reveal these retries. Minimum age can be used as a filter to reduce repeat flows in flow capture data.

For the stateful engine of your firewall, AWS Network Firewall flow logs show flushed flows. These entries show the flow's previous condition and the rationale field's flushed status.

Historical firewall operations

The Firewall operation history provides capture and flush actions from the preceding 12 hours using AZ-specific operation IDs. Any operation above 12 hours is immediately deleted. Click on a Flow operation ID to view capture or flush flow operation details.

What to know:

One flow capture or flush per AZ per firewall is allowed. If your firewall endpoints are in distinct AZs, you can capture or flush flows simultaneously.

Use Minimum age in Filter settings to identify or flush long-running flows. Only flows active for five minutes or longer are considered when the Minimum Age is 300 seconds.

The firewall policy's stream exception policy applies to packets that reach it after their flow state has been flushed. The reject stream exception policy is recommended for most applications.

Due to the distributed firewall technology, firewall hosts may perform flow capture and flush operations differently. The firewall distributes capture and flush actions instead than executing them in real time.

These traits support IPv4 and IPv6 flows.

For auditing, AWS CloudTrail logs flow capture and flush operations as management events.

In conclusion

This post showed you how to utilise flow capture and flush to detect and clear out existing flows and test your security configurations, including stream exception policies, as needed. These new features allow organisations to monitor network traffic, respond quickly to security problems, and apply updated security policies consistently to all active connections. These features are enabled by default for new and current clients and are free.

[hislittlesparklejumpropequeen]

Watching you

Hwang In-ho x female!reader.

Part 2

Summary: In-ho sees you and his brain chemistry changes. A/N: in reader’s pov he’s referred as Young il. Sorry if it’s confusing. Warnings: Obsessive and possessive behaviour, masturbation, stalking, perverted opinions, murder, blood, kissing, mentions of arousal, mentally and physically vulnerable characters, dubious consent, non-con touching, manipulation, sadism, dacryphilia

W/c: 3,5k

It was strange that he kept his eyes on you more than anyone in the games. The moment he saw your shaking figure among the crowd of people in the green suits, he felt his breath get stuck in his throat. You were looking around with eyes that were full of fear, hands wrapped around yourself and holding back tears as others started an argument in the middle. You listened as someone complained about his shoes being so expensive, and someone asking for his phone, an old lady argue with her son and guards answering the players’s questions with patience.

He kept his eyes on you as the first game started. He saw your eyes widen when someone was shot right in front of you, and he watched you as you realise the seriousness of the game you accepted to take part in. Gi-hun was interesting to him, yes. He was searching for them, for him have been for years now. And he was brave enough to come back to the games just to find who was behind them. He respected his determination. Yet there was something about you that he could not name. Something captivating. Something that shifted things in him, made his skin sting in ecstasy as you nearly moved when the doll turned around. You looked around with those innocent eyes and blood of someone flowing down your cheek, he felt his trouser tighten. A small, tingly sensation took over his loins and made him frown in confusion. He had never taken a liking to a someone, let alone a little, fragile thing like you.

When he found the video of you playing ddajki with the recruiter, he felt himself get harder and harder as he watched you spill tears in pain every single time you received a hard slap on your cheek. The camera captured the noises you made as your body was falling backwards with every single slap. The recruiter hit you hard and In-ho wandered if you would sound the same when he pounded you hard on his bed. He took his mask off and palmed himself trough his trouser as he kept replaying the video over and over again. When he was finished spilling his seed into his palm, he wished that was your mouth wrapped around his tip instead.

When the first game finished and your number and picture still shone bright on the floor, you voted for ‘X’ and expected everyone to vote same as you. Yet you were so wrong when the last player 001 and all others voted ‘O’, causing all of you to stay in this hellhole. You felt tears fill your eyes as some people were cheering with victory in front of you. You sat down on one of the beds at the front and hugged your legs with disappointment. As you were thinking what was going to happen next, you felt someone sit next to you.

“I’m sorry, I thought staying was the best option.” Said the man who was looking at you, watching your tears flow down your flushed cheeks. You looked at his number and saw 001 in bright white font. He was the person who voted last and made the decision. You sighed and shook your head.

“It is not only you, sir. Half of us wanted to stay.” You said as you pointed at the people who had the ‘O’ banners on their right side. He did not look at the direction you were pointing at, he kept his eyes on. You were so pretty when you cried. He wandered how beautiful you would look when you were overstimulated with his fingers in you. He felt his cock twicth when you looked at him again. Your lips were plump, and the tip of your nose was red. He wandered how your tears would taste like.

“We have a winner here. I thought we could use this for our advantage.” He explained as he pointed at Gi-hun who looked very troubled not so far away from you. Your eyes were on the last winner when you felt the man beside you stand up and take few steps towards the player 456. Yet he stopped mid way and looked back at you, as if he was waiting for you to follow him. And for some reason you wiped your tears away and followed him like a lost puppy as he walked towards the previous winner of the games who was already accompanied by few guys who kept asking him questions.

And the small group was formed with two of you joining them. You did not know much about others, did not trust them meanwhile player 001 was confident and comfortable talking to them. When he sat down next to Gi-hun, his eyes pointed at the small space next to his feet, so you sat down there. Being close to him brought you a sense of safety. He was the first person who approached you in this mess of a place with kindness. You did not know him, didn’t know his name or why he was here. Yet there was a look in his eyes that made you want to stick beside him.

When everyone went to sleep, In-ho looked at your resting form. You were wrapped in the thin blanket and was curled up into a ball. He looked at your curves that were visible from the tracksuit, his mouth watered. You were so frightened and powerless. You needed someone to protect you in the games. Someone who would look after you, make sure you make it alive. He knew what humans were capable of doing in a place like this. People were going to go mad and hurt one another viciously. Would he be able to just stand and watch if you got hurt?

Your soft whimpers and cries brought him back to reality. When you woke up from your few hours of sleep drenched in sweat and tears flowing down your cheeks, he crawled to you, in the darkness of the hall. He reached out to you, from the metal bars of the beds, and held your shoulder. You squirmed in fear and was about to scream until a large hand covered your mouth.

“It’s me.” He whispered to your ear as his whole body was pressed against your back, other arm wrapped around your shoulders. He was towering over you, as you felt sweat drops make their way to your neck from your temple.

He let go of your mouth, but his touch did not leave your body when he moved to sit next to you. He was close, his breath hitting your face and neck when he looked at you with observing eyes that did not give any feelings away. His touch made your heart beat fast and quicken your breaths, yet you did not want him to stop holding you.

“Bad dream?” He whispered, his voice is low yet deep enough to make your insides shake. You nodded when tears filled your eyes again. The images of dead bodies all over the playground haunted you since the moment you came back from the game as winners. You didn’t want to cry in front of anyone, but you felt like he would not mind seeing you cry.

He nodded along with you, almost like a grown up talking to a little kid and mirror her moves to befriend her. When he saw your bottom lip tremble and eyes full of fear scan the hall of people sleeping, he felt his loins burn in need. The face you made when you were scared and felt alone was enough to make him cum in his underwear without any touch.

Without hesitation he brought your body closer to his own and his arms embraced your shaking form with mercy. You buried your face into the crook of his neck and wrapped your smaller arms around his waist. He was warm. Very warm that you felt your fingertips burn over his body. When you breathed in and out in the crook of his neck, all In-ho wanted to do was throw your body back into the bed, rip those clothes off of you and ravage you in front of dozens of people without any care. The though of fucking you, turning you into mass in front of them, giving them a show as he claimed you, sent shivers down his spine.

“I’m so scared,” you whispered, your crying voice reaching his ear as he tried to hold back a smile at your situation. You were so helpless that you were crying in the arms of the man who was the reason why you were still here. He was a stranger, who had the potential to do anything. Yet here you were, quivering against his chest and making his member throb in need.

“I’m here.” He said. And you had no chance but trusting him.

———————

The next game you were automatically given the Gong-gi game as the only female in the group. Yet your hands were shaking when it was your turns to play after player 390 completed his part successfully. When you missed two times, you were so sure you were going to die and worse, be the reason for everyone’s death in your group.

He watched you panick, drop the pebbles and fail to catch them midair. Everyone around you was getting inpatient and scared naturally. Even tho he loved the way you were struggling and feeding into his twisted desire, he could not let you die. He held your waist and stopped the trembling of your body. You looked at him under your lashes that were wet with your tears and went back to work once he gave you a reassuring smile. With that you managed to catch all the pebbles in your palm and passed the round.

It was then, you felt something was off, when it was his turn to play his own game. The top kept slipping from his hands or landed wrong on the floor that was covered in the blood of eliminated players. You wanted to step back yet could not because of the ties when he started to scream in anger and slap himself. There was a crazy, off-putting look in his eyes. It was less uncomfortable when he was looking at you, yet it was still there. His eyes made your skin crawl and stomach twist in sickness. You did feel safe around him. But not like you would feel safe with a family member, a friend, or a lover. It felt like he was a wolf who claimed a lamb, kept her on his chest and waited for right moment to eat her.

When your group managed to survive and go back to the hall, he kept to you close. His hand was on your back, leading you to your bed. When it was mealtime, he gave half of his food to you, telling you to not to worry about him when you tried to reject him. He watched you until you finished all your food. After all of you exchanged names, he watched you talk to player 388 about his time in marine and watch you laugh when he was talking excitedly, telling everyone how prideful he was about his military service. He watched your tears dry up as you listened to the conversation that was flowing in the group. Your smile made his stomach twist and his jaw clench.

Your hopes once again were shattered when people voted for “O” more than “X” and decided to continue playing the games. Young-il wiped your tears away and convinced you to get some sleep for the night. You could only relax and fall asleep when he sat next to you on your bed and caressed your head as he decided to stay awake. He looked extraordinarily strong to you. He did not need to sleep, gave his food to others, calm people down when everyone was scared, raged and pass the games like it was nothing. Most importantly, he held you close no matter what. Did not mind you cry and fail and fall. Maybe it was a sense of guilt he felt, for making you stay in the first round of voting, you thought.

——————

Next morning he held your hand when everyone was taken to the new game. It was mingle. Your group had decided to stay together. You were grateful that they had take you in and did not leave you alone. You all took your place on the platform and started to spin as the song was playing. You felt his hand get tighter around yours, reminding you that he was here with you.

10

You ran as fast as you can and took deep breaths when all 10 of you finally managed to get into a room. The sound of lock made you jump slightly. You saw Young il’s eyes on Gi-hun as he pulled you under his arm. The images of him looking at Gi-hun since the moment you met him lingered on your mind until the woman who claimed to be a shaman started to speak loudly in the middle of the room. As you waited for gunshots to stop and doors to open, you could not help but wonder the reason behind Young il’s weird behaviour about Gi-hun. He seemed to get along with him. Seemed to respect his ideas and experiences about this place. They seemed to understand one another, somehow. Yet that unexplainable look in 001 eyes was making you shift uncomfortably in your place.

Until last round, you had no chance but sticking beside Young il. As you entered rooms and people kept dying outside, you became more paranoid. And when it came to the last round, Jeong-bae asked how many people it was going to be this time. Without hesitation Young-il answered.

“2.” And it was it. When the song stopped and the platform stopped spinning, Young il held your hand tighter than before, and started to run to closest room. As you were trying to catch up with his pace, someone bumped into you, causing you to lose your balance and stumble midway. Young il turned around immediately and wrapped his arms around your waist. He lifted you like a piece of feather and made his way to the yellow door that was already opened by a guy. Young il pushed you into the room and threw the other guy away from the door. When you scanned the room, your eyes were met with pair of foreign eyes.

“Out.” Young il said sharply to the other man in the room.

“We were here first.” The man said, his voice cracking as he was shaking in fear. Person behind the door tried to open it. You pushed your back against the door and held it with all of your strength. There was not much time left, and you were afraid that all of you were going die in this room.

Young il grabbed the man and locked his arms around his head. As they scooped to the floor, his arms got tighter around the player 343’s neck. You were still holding the door and preventing the other player to get in. For a second Young il’s intense gaze met with yours and you couldn’t look away.

He looked into your eyes, showing no emotion or weakness as the man he was choking started to turn purple. Your breath got stuck in your throat, your knees were shaking, and your palms were getting sweaty with the scene taking place in front of you. As there were few seconds left for the countdown, Young il twisted the man’s neck. The sound of bone cracking filled the room along with the sound of door locking behind you. He kept his eyes on you, as he tossed the dead body of the side.

The lifeless body of player 343 laid on the ground and the gunshots filled your ear. The screams of people scratched your brain, and you finally managed to close your eyes. He had killed someone in front of you, broke his neck with one swift motion and he had no emotion on his face as he did it. Your heart was beating so fast that you thought it was going to fail at some point. Then the images of him came to your mind. When he knocked down player 124 and 230 as he looked down at them with those emotionless eyes, when he carelessly slapped himself in the second game, when he looked at Gi-hun as if he wanted to strangle him when he thought no one was looking, when he pushed everyone out of his way to get both of you to safety during the mingle game and now when he killed someone.

“Open your eyes.” He breathed out, his breath hitting your face. Suddenly you felt his warmth surrounding you and him towering over your head. You slowly opened your eyes and there he was. Looking down at you, his eyebrows lifted up and with a mocking look in his eyes. His face was close to yours. Yet it did not feel comforting and safe like it did a night ago, when he was comforting you after a nightmare.

“What did you do?” Your voice was shaky and sounded terrified as you tried to look at the dead body that was in the corner of the room. He did not let you look away with his fingers finding your chin and holding it tight. He held you with those hands that just took the life of someone. You felt chills going down your spine.

“I made sure that we survived.” He whispered without breaking eye contact with you. You could hear soldiers cleaning up the mess outside of the rooms.

“You killed him.” You tried to shake his touch away, yet he didn’t let you. Instead, he got closer, until you were trapped between him and the door. His hot breath made your skin tingle, and his touch made you wanna cry.

“Yes.” He said, and his lips touched your cheek that was wetted by your tears. His lips planted a soft kiss onto your skin. The kiss made you feel dizzy and your knees weak.

“For you.” He continued. His words made you freeze in your spot. His lips traced over your skin like a ghost and reached the corner of your lips. “Only for you” He kissed the side of your mouth, softly, gently, with mercy. You wanted to rip his hands off of you, and run away. The floor beneath your feet was slippery with the blood of eliminated players. If you slipped and fell, would he let you go?

“All for you.” His lips found your chin, then your nose, then your other cheek. He did not rush or hold you harsh enough to hurt. Yet knowing that he had just killed someone with those hands made you wanna throw up.

Your tears dropped to his lips, and he licked his lips as if he was dying over thirst. And when he made eye contact with you again, it was the first time you saw a clear human emotion in his eyes. An emotion he did not try to hide or was afraid to show; yearning. You did not know if it was for you or winning. In both cases, it terrified you to your very being.

“Stop!” You said as sobs filled your mouth and he pressed his forehead against yours hard. You felt him shake his head, his arms wrapping around your fragile, little body compared to his strong form.

“I will give you everything you want, you need.” He said and pressed his lips against yours. Without waiting, his tongue made his way into your mouth, forcing your lips to open up for him. You felt the dizzy feeling take over your head. Your ears were ringing, your mind was foggy as he kissed you harsh, deep. There was no power left in your body, so you just let yourself to his arms.

His teeth crushed against yours and he was biting every corner of your lips until he drew blood. The irony taste filled your senses, made you jump. You did not know if it was you bleeding or him. But there was blood everywhere. Covering your tongue, your lips and staining your chin as your shared spit escaped from the corner of your lips. You felt your body burn all over. Your back was arching like a cat to get any closer to him, and there was a soreness between your legs that made your clit throb. You felt shame fill you and guilt making you wanna cry out. Instead, you kept kissing him, devouring him, eating him as much as you could.

You whined and pushed your head towards him when he parted your kiss with the sound of lock. The door was opened. The third game was finished. There was still a dead man in the room. Your mouth was covered in blood, making you look like you just feasted on someone. And his eyes were on you, watching you.

[s0dium]

Cocky men

A/n: Cocky prideful men have been on my mind

Warnings: Mating press, teasing, submissive reader

~ Cocky men who are just so full of themselves, who know how handsome they are, who know how good they fuck.

You want to resist, you hate knowing that you're just another one of his conquests but he's just so irresistible. And he's close to you, too close. You can smell his old spice shampoo mixed with something sweeter and you can practically taste it on the tip of your tongue- it's a smell that makes you want to bury your nose into him over and over again.

He bends down, his lips just grazing your cheek, a feather-light touch that sends shivers down your spine, making your entire body quiver. "If you want me to stop, say it now," he whispers. When you remain silent, he brushes his mouth against the hollow of your temple. "Or now." He traces the curve of your cheekbone. "Or now." His lips meet yours.

It is all a blur from there, but now your on your back, naked, legs pressed flush against your chest effectively folding you in half and spreading you open. And oh boy do the curtains match the drapes because he is so big. His dick fills you up better than your fingers or a stupid dildo ever could and the drag against your walls with every thrust, the friction, it's delicious.

"This what you imagined in that pretty head of yours?" He chuckles, and you open your mouth to say something but he already capturing your lips with his. You whine into his mouth and you let his tongue weave its way into yours. His hands slides down to your throat, giving your the sides of it a squeeze to softly block your air flow.

"Huhhh... so good m'feel so good." You whine. You think you must be dreaming with how euphoric everything feels right now. The pleasure is so good it's all you can think about, it's absorbing you. Your abdomen tightens with every surge of hot tingly goodness that comes with each thrust and electric flesh arrows of pleasure dance along your skin.

"Oh I know baby, I know you do," He coos, bucking up his hips teasingly.  He lets out a soft groan at the way your pussy feverishly grips his dick. The sound of wet sweaty skin slapping mix and mingle in the sex steamed air. You want to scream at the way his dick fills you up so perfectly every time he snaps his hips into yours.

A mixture of pre cum and your juices accumulates at the base of his dick and every vein on his cock dragged against your velvety walls, catching on your entrance as her pulled back before falling back into you.

“You can cum princess, we got all the time in the world."

Gojo, Sukuna, Toji, Kuroo, Atsumu Miya, Oikawa, Kakashi, Sanemi, Uzui Tengen

[goquokka00]

Perfect Masterpiece

Summary: Hyunjin had asked if you'd make a sex tape with him for when he's gone and away on tour. He had assumed that you'd say no due to you being a rather introverted and private person. But you had surprised him by saying yes.

Pairing: Hyunjin X Reader (F!)

Genre: Smut (18+)

Warnings: Reader's wearing a night gown lingerie thingie, video recording sex (pornography), fingering, sucking fingers, Oral (M! Receiving), praise, Hyunjin's a sweetheart and a gentleman, penetrative sex (wrap it before you tap it!), Reader rides Hyunjin, honestly it's Hyunjin and the reader having erotic sex while filming it and it's really hot in my opinion, 100% 18+ (seriously like if you're a minor don't read pls and thank you <3)

Word Count: 1.8K

"Say hi, beautiful." Hyunjin couldn't help but smile as he watched you wave to the camera. You were beautiful...a cute little silk night gown with noodle straps, gentle lace at the bottom. Your cheeks were slightly flushed, capturing even more beauty than Hyunjin could've ever imagined.

"Hi..." Your voice was soft, delicate. Your hand gently waved to the camera as Hyunjin zoomed in on your features, causing another giggle to leave you. And when your eyes found his behind the camera, you covered your mouth as you felt nerves flow through you. "I'm nervous now..."

"You're nervous? You were excited before..." Hyunjin laughed a bit with you, watching you nod as you moved your hand to reveal that shy smile he loved so much.

If Hyunjin was being honest, he would've never expected you to agree to making a sex tape with him. You were shy, private about sex life. Any time sex was brought up in conversation, you'd hide your flushed face in his chest, trying desperately to get Hyunjin to switch the conversation.

So when Hyunjin brought up the idea of recording the two of you being intimate, he had expected you to politely deny. Claim that you didn't feel comfortable recording the two of you, that you didn't want the video getting leaked. Not that Hyunjin would've gotten mad. He respected you and the decisions you made, never wanting to push you once.

But to his surprise, you had agreed, saying that you wanted to give him something while he was away on tour so he wouldn't be so alone. Besides, it was better than him stealing dirty panties that reeked of semen after being away on tour for so long.

And so now, the two of you were on the bed, you looking like an angel sent down from heaven as Hyunjin recorded you on the bed, his eyes soft as he reached forward to cup your cheek.

"It'll be okay...just pretend that it's me and you. This camera isn't here." Hyunjin's voice was raspy, but it was gentle. And while you weren't confident in bed, it did make you feel more comfortable.

"Okay..." Hearing your soft response made Hyunjin smile, the man reaching forward to run his fingers along your jaw, down your neck to your collarbone, only to gently grab the plush of your breast.

"Wanna show me how beautiful you are, baby?" Hyunjin's eyes glanced up from your chest to your eyes, staring deep into your soul. You nodded, smiling as you moved to take the nightgown off, revealing your silk panties with the tiny little pink bow, your breasts now bare.

They looked absolutely incredible on camera...soft and smooth, your nipples slightly perky. Hyunjin hummed as he ran his hand along the curve of your right breast, the camera capturing every second of admiration Hyunjin did in real time.

"You look so beautiful...like a goddess, my love." Hyunjin then moved down your body, the camera getting a view of your stomach and belly, all the way to your waistline. "Your body's so, so perfect...like a gift from the heavens."

Hyunjin's words made your heart soar in the clouds, your thighs rubbing together as Hyunjin moved to grab the soft flesh. Your skin was so smooth under his touch, so supple and perfect. Hyunjin didn't ever really think he could get enough of it.

And then, his eyes met yours again.

"Can I take them off now? Or do you wanna wait?" God, he was going to be the death of you. But you shook your head, spreading your legs a bit so Hyunjin could get better access to your panties.

"Mm-mm...take them off." And with that consent, Hyunjin helped you spread your legs a bit wider, one hand slipping into the side of your panties while the other pointed the camera towards your cunt, wanting to get this moment captured perfectly...even if Hyunjin was shaking from anticipation.

And once he pulled your panties to the side, he couldn't help the groan that left his lips. God, your lips were puffy and beautiful, your labia perfectly folded with your clit just barely peeking out of it's hood. A small string of arousal kept your cunt connected to your panties, only for it to snap softly and land on Hyunjin's finger.

"God, you're absolutely perfect...god, you're so, so perfect. Spread your legs wider for me....please?" Hyunjin was saying it over and over like a mantra, helping you spread out wider so he could get a better view of your pussy. And the wider your legs spread, the more your pussy spread, giving him an even better view of the pink flesh. "Fuck..."

You simply watched as he recorded your pussy, your boyfriend too focused on capturing the beauty between your legs. Your cheeks were red, your eyes hooded. It was like your boyfriend was hypnotized, unable to bring his focus anywhere else.

Eventually, after spreading one labia and then the other, he ran a finger along your slit, making you whimper. He loved when you made sounds...he loved it even more that they'd be recorded for him to hear whenever.

"Make more sounds for me, beautiful...I wanna be able to hear you." Hyunjin trailed his finger between your slit again, his pointer finger bumping into your clit which made your hips roll, a soft moan slipping out from your mouth. It was music to Hyunjin's ears.

And it didn't take long for his pointer and middle finger to slide into your entrance, curling against your g-spot, making you moan louder for him. It was like your body was an instrument, and Hyunjin had practiced playing it for years. Nothing could beat it.

"That feel good, my love? I bet it does...you sound so beautiful...so so beautiful." Hyunjin's eyes found yours again as he watched you squirm, your hips rolling into his hand before he eventually slid his fingers out, bringing them to your lips. "Taste how good you are...for me?"

And you did. Hyunjin groaned as he watched your lips wrap around his fingers, his brain filling with the imaginative idea of his cock being there instead. And the way his cock throbbed when he thought that...he knew he couldn't resist bringing that idea into reality now.

"There you go...such a good girl..." As Hyunjin praised you, he slid his fingers from your mouth, his soft eyes staring into yours. You had him entranced. Mesmerized. "Let me film you sucking me off...can I do that? Please?"

You couldn't help but smile, getting up from your spot so the two of you could shift around. You went to lay on your stomach between Hyunjin's legs, all the while Hyunjin laid on his back, your hands going into his sweatpants to pull out his cock.

The second your plush lips kissed his tip, Hyunjin swore he was going to bust.

He loved your mouth. He loved all of you. A lot. So, so much. What he loved most was how you reciprocated that love, keeping your eyes on his as you moved your head up and down his length, sucking so perfectly while moving your tongue along his shaft. It felt good, but it made him feel even better with the emotions behind it.

"That's it...just like that, beautiful. Your mouth's so pretty when it's around my cock..." Hyunjin zoomed in on your mouth, wanting to be able to see it up close when he would inevitably watch the tape back. Your small hands wrapped around the base, one sliding to his balls to gently grab and massage...your mouth joined not too long after, sucking and gently biting down.

He wasn't gonna last. You were too perfect.

"God, I'm gonna cum if you keep that up, baby..." Hyunjin groaned as he sat up, guiding your head off as he panted. You only giggled, your eyes watching his as you pressed soft kisses to his dick.

"Do you wanna cum? It's okay if you do, I don't mind." Even sucking him off so well, your voice was perfect. How? Hyunjin had no idea.

"No, no...I wanna at least be inside you for a bit." Hyunjin just needed a moment. That was all. Just a few seconds to recover so he could really go and meet God after being inside of you. "You'll ride me, right? Give me a show?"

How could you possibly say no to that?

"Mhm, I can." And with that, you climbed up his body, pulling your panties to the side once more before lining your cunt up with Hyunjin's dick, gently rubbing his head against your slit to get him lubed up just a bit more. And after a tiny bit longer, you sunk down.

Ah, there was God. Hyunjin swore he saw his hands reaching out as you took his dick to the hilt, filling yourself up completely. One hand found your thigh, gripping it like an anchor while his other hand recorded you grinding against him, your body sitting so perfectly on his.

Just seeing you above him like that was enough for him to bust. But he wanted to last. Needed to. He wanted to capture the beauty of your body on top of his, your hips rolling and your breasts gently bouncing as you started to get your rhythm together. You were an angel. A goddess, one that Hyunjin didn't feel worthy of being with.

And yet, he managed to score you.

"Fuck, yes...god, you feel so good, my love...you feel so, so good..." Hyunjin was panting as he watched you moan and use his body to please yourself. He knew that wasn't what you were trying to do. You were trying to make him feel amazing. But you were getting close too, he could feel it. "God, you're gonna cum, aren't you? You're clenching so much, beautiful...you're gonna cum so hard, right?"

"U-Uh huh..." You nodded, your voice going from moans to whimpers. You were right there. And Hyunjin was capturing it all.

"Let me see how beautiful you look when you cum...please, baby..." He didn't have to say anything else. It took one more bounce for you to shudder and fall apart above him, a shrill cry leaving you as your pussy clenched and quivered. Your back arched, unintentionally pushing your breasts just for Hyunjin's camera to catch.

That was all Hyunjin needed to cum himself, filling you up with a groan of his own. His hand gripped your thigh for dear life, his hips pushing up into yours before slowly relaxing, feeling his high leave him peacefully.

He looked up at you, watching you pant before he smiled, carefully maneuvering you to be underneath him before he got on his knees and pulled out, the camera focused on where the two of you had been connected.

"Let me see how much I filled you, baby." He gently pushed your legs up, causing you to whine before your pussy pushed out some of his cum, the white fluid falling between your legs and onto the bed. It was perfect.

Completely and utterly perfect.

Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️

Taglist: @miss-daisy04 @kayleefriedchicken @wolfs-archive @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @wolfs-howling @rose-w-00-d @skzlover24

[blood-smiles]

𝐇𝐈𝐉𝐎 𝐃𝐄 𝐋𝐀 𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐀࣪ ִֶָ☾✴︎˚｡⋆

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐋 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 - MDNI TW!! suggestive thoughts and actions coming from yandere . yandere character . defo unprofessional behavior from reader . PT 2

╰┈➤ the white flashing of your camera lit up the room, capturing a perfect moment in time inside your device.

Scrolling through the pictures with your thumb, you nodded wordlessly at the various pictures. Perfect and beautiful.

Just how you liked it.

Packing up your gear, you decided it was time you went home, you were tired. Really tired from taking so many pictures, you felt a migraine coming from a mile away.

The soft patter of rain met your eardrums, letting you know it was drizzling and would probably last for a while.

You walked slowly, umbrella in hand, staring at the moon above while rubbing the sides of your head. The soft crashing of the waves hitting the rocks nearby.

Plugging in your headphones and playing some soft music while you walked to your house.

You counted the stars in the sky as you walked along the beach.

“ ♪ Luna quieres ser madre?.. y no encuentras querer que te haga mujer, dime Luna de plata.. Que pretendes hacer con un niño de piel.. ah-ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah-ah.. Hijo de la luna.. ♪ “

You came to a stop, seeing a taller (wo)man (?) leaning against the railing, strange that they were out so late. It was so dark already, what could they possibly be doing out here, in the rain of all places?

Their heterochromatic eyes gazed up at the sky too. Their face solemn and distracted, the rain pouring down over their head and back, their light blue—almost white, wavy hair dampened and forming beautiful coils.

They were so pretty, looking like an angel under the moonlight.. Were your spidey senses tingling right now? You just felt like you should approach them.

“Excuse me.” You interrupted softly, holding out your umbrella over their head, stopping the rain from dampening them even more.

“..What?” Oh, they had a deep voice.. you were caught off guard, they had very feminine traits and flowing long hair, so you just kind of assumed..

“Here.” You handed him your umbrella, which he accepted hesitantly, his hand shaking as he held the handle of the umbrella.

His eyes snapped towards your face, looking deeply into your eyes, looking for a sign of deceit or malice, but only finding kindness and genuine empathy.

His cheeks flushed a little, his ears turning red as he admired your features… how would it feel like if he ran his tongue along your cheek?—What. What was he thinking?!

His fingers slightly grazed your own, sending shivers down his vertebrae and sending his heart into overdrive. 

Snatching the umbrella, holding it close to his chest as he stepped back a little.

“You know, I hope this doesn’t sound creepy but, you’re stunning— You should try modeling! Who knows, maybe one day I’ll photograph you.” 

You joked lightly, putting your hands above your head to shield yourself from the water.

His free hand shakily lifted to cover the bottom portion of his mouth, pupils blown wide as he stumbled back a little. 

..That was the cutest interaction he had ever had up to this point in his entire life. That bashful smile— The twinkle in your (e/c) eyes— everything about you had him in a trance!

“G-Get lost!” He yelled, tightening his hold around the umbrella and running away, his heart beating in his ears, heart swelling and feeling the wings of a swarm of butterflies nicking his guts.

You were left standing under the rain, rethinking your wording and kicking yourself in the stomach  internally for scaring off a potential client.

And… that was the last time you saw him, or so you thought.

Oblivious to you, he just ran off because his heart was in over drive and might have exploded from a cuteness attack.

He glanced down at your umbrella, his eyes zeroing in on the small writing on the handle, ‘Y/n L/n’? That was the name of the cute idiot he met?

Looking up the name all results showed up, your face everywhere! He shakily touched your “face”,  staring into your eyes for an alarming amount of time.

A famous photographer, huh?.. He thought about what you said.. A model? Him? Well, wouldn’t hurt to try.

3 years later…──★ ˙📷 ̟ !!

You had been hired, a big shot model was coming to your studio to get some magazine pictures done.

You opened the models portfolio, checking out some news about him too, he had gone viral lately. 

“Son of the moon’? Huh, interesting.” You mumbled, taking in the model’s proportions, his face rung a bell in your brain. But as hard as you tried to get your synapses to connect, you just couldn’t form a coherent memory..

‘Mikhail White’ …

You chalked it up to seeing him in magazines or social media.

Putting the portfolio aside, your feet pushed you off the ground , walking over to your setup and making minor tweaks to your studio while you waited leisurely

“(Y/n), they’re here.” The voice of your assistant interrupted your movement, nodding your head you put your hands over your professional camera and looped it over your neck.

You stepped back, letting the makeup artist enter with their big box of makeup supplies, then came in the manager of the model, eyes sharp and analytical as she clasped her clipboard in her arm.

And finally, the model entered. The star of the show, Mikhail, A pretty average sized person, for a model, that is. He stopped in front of you, staring you down with those uniquely colored eyes.

You got that feeling again, was it Deja vu, perhaps? Their eyes hit a chord in you, yeah. You had seen them before.. Just where?

“Welcome, thank you for hiring me.” You smiled warmly, turning your gaze to the manager, extending your hand out for a friendly handshake.

The woman scoffed softly, shaking her head “No thank you, I don’t do handshakes.” The tall woman gently replied, although it sounded more like a mother scolding her child.

“O…Okay.” You laughed nervously, letting your hand begin to drop to your side.

“Thank you for having me here, (Y/n).” The model suddenly spoke, gently taking your hand and shaking it before it could totally fall.

“Oh, um. Yeah, for sure!” Taken off guard you reciprocated the hand shake before letting go, his hand not letting go completely.

You pulled your hand free with a soft tug, turning to sit down on your chair as you wait for the makeup artist to doll up the male.

You stared at him from a distance, you felt like he had curly hair, but instead were met with silky, straight hair running down his back.

Mikhail was shaking, his hands quivering on his lap as he looked through the mirror on the vanity. He stared at your form through the reflective surface, watching how you scrolled through your phone or opened the portfolio with his pictures.

Did you think he was attractive? Did you like his hair? He decided to try something new for you, he hoped it caught your eye…

He gently bit down on his bottom lip, looking down to let the artist work on his eyeshadow, he wanted to physically recoil from the person’s hands, wishing it was yours instead.

He had worked up to this point for three whole years, all just to be photographed by you, one of the best photographers in the whole industry.

Ever since that night, under the pouring rain, he couldn’t wipe you off his brain, you were like a drug,the image of you gnawing at his sanity. It hurt so good though, so good he couldn’t stop and soon found himself addicted.

You indirectly changed his life, he went from being a pathetic nobody to one of the most popular and influential models of his time, and honestly.. It was all thanks to you, even if you don’t remember him.

Mikhail dressed in a lacy attire, showing off part of his stomach and most of his thighs, his hair decorated with small silver clips and silk bows, beautiful diamond earrings hanging off his ear lobes.

His face sparkled with glitter, long white eyelashes fluttering, his visage was that of perfection. Comparable to an arctic fox nestled in silks and diamonds, you could see why the media called him the ‘son of the moon’ more clearly now.

“Wow, you look beautiful.” You complimented, leading him to the middle of the shot, he looked up at you, not saying anything, however the flush of his ears said different.

Now, if you remembered correctly, the theme was ‘wedding after-party’ although you didn’t know it was going to be this suggestive..? You did agree to it so no backing out anymore, you suppose.

You had something in your mind already so you just ran with it, the manager agreed with your idea too, you expected her to spit in your face and tell you no in all honestly..

He gazed at the camera with a sultry gaze, imagining it was you he was looking at, he did as you asked, allowing you to brush some of his hair or to position his soft strands as you wished.

He peered up at you through his eyelashes, looking almost desperate, leaning into your touch subconsciously. This had been a fantasy of his for a long time, a real wet dream for him.

In fact, he had pressed for the theme to be more suggestive, wanting you to see him in a more intimate scenario.

In the last shots of the session, everyone came to an agreement to put some false cake frosting pieces over Mikhail, leaning more into the wedding cake aspect.

You dipped your hand in the substance, grabbing some in your hands and leaning down to smudge some over his face, dropping some here and there strategically.

You took your camera back in your hands, positioning it perfectly for it to capture the scene’s beauty and allure.

The ice blue haired man bent and arched his body any and all ways you desired, placing his hands on his lap as he took some of the frosting on his finger and brought it up to his mouth, licking it, sending you the most loving and passionate gaze he could muster. 

Wordlessly hinting with just his sharp eyes how much he wanted something other than a few pictures, something that was spelled with four letters, D-A-T-E.

That..wasn’t scripted, but you just went with it and snapped a few pictures. You leaned back in your chair, stretching out the knots in your back and listening to the pops in your spine.

That was the last of the shots, all you need to do now was transfer the pictures to his manager and get a sweet sweet wad of cash back.

You smiled at the thought, sighing pleasantly.

You bid the trio of workers goodbye, although the rosy cheeked model stayed back, approaching you and putting a small piece of paper in your hand shyly.

Right before you were about to say something he shut you up by pecking your cheek gently.

“Thank you.” He mumbled, his voice soft and heartfelt, it was more…intimate, more meaningful than a simple ‘thanks for taking my pic’, he made it sound like you had just swooped in like Superman and saved his life.

He clasped his hand over yours, making sure you kept the paper in your hand as he began leaving hastily, not lingering for a moment more or less.

‘Go out on a date with me..? XXX-XXX-XXXX ♡’

Well shit. Things just got a whole lot interesting.

[drewswife]

summary: drew brings you flowers during your miss dior photoshoot

pairings: actress!Reader x Actress!drew

warnings: fluff, paparazzi, kissing, drew being in love.

The studio hummed with the controlled chaos of a high-fashion shoot. Lights glared, reflectors shimmered, and the air crackled with the hushed energy of professionals at work. You, a rising star and the face of the new Miss Dior campaign, posed with practiced ease. The vintage-inspired gown, a cascade of soft pink and ivory, flowed around you like a dream. The photographer, a master of capturing fleeting moments, barked instructions in a clipped French accent, their eyes alight with creative fervor.

"Magnifique! Just a touch more… vulnerability," they commanded, their voice a melodic blend of French and English. You shifted your gaze, imagining a lost love, a poignant memory, and let the emotion seep into your expression. The camera clicked, freezing the moment in time.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket, a gentle reminder of the world outside the studio. You ignored it, focusing on the task at hand. Another pose, another click, another carefully crafted emotion captured on film.

As the photographer called for a brief break, you finally retrieved your phone. A text from Drew: "Thinking of you. Can I bring you something?"

A soft smile touched your lips. Drew, your co-star, your confidant, and, if you were being honest with yourself, the man who held your heart captive. You typed back a quick "Surprise me," and slipped the phone back into your pocket.

The break was short, just enough for a quick touch-up and a sip of water. As you stepped back onto the set, the photographer’s assistant whispered, "You have a visitor."

Your heart skipped a beat. You knew it was Drew.

He stood at the edge of the set, a bouquet of bright yellow dandelions clutched in his hands. Not roses, not lilies, but dandelions – the simple, unassuming flowers that often went unnoticed, much like the way he’d quietly become an indispensable part of your life.

A ripple of amused laughter spread through the crew. Dandelions? For a Miss Dior photoshoot? It was hilariously out of place, yet somehow, perfectly Drew.

He walked towards you, his smile warm and genuine, a stark contrast to the carefully crafted emotions you’d been portraying for the camera.

"These reminded me of you," he said, handing you the bouquet. "Bright, cheerful, and a little bit… resilient."

You took the dandelions, their delicate heads brushing against your fingertips. "They're perfect," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

The photographer, initially amused, now seemed intrigued. "Perhaps we can incorporate them into the shoot," they suggested, their eyes sparkling with inspiration.

And so, the dandelions became a part of the Miss Dior narrative. They were woven into your hair, tucked into the folds of your gown, and scattered around the set, adding a touch of unexpected whimsy to the otherwise polished scene.

The shoot continued, but the atmosphere had shifted. It was no longer just about capturing an image; it was about capturing a moment, a connection, a feeling.

During a break, Drew pulled you aside, his eyes searching yours. "I know this is a big deal for you," he said, his voice low. "And I didn't want to disrupt anything. But I couldn't stay away."

"You didn't disrupt anything," you assured him, your fingers tracing the delicate petals of a dandelion. "You made it… real."

He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "Can I kiss you?"

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest.

His lips met yours, a soft, tender kiss that spoke volumes. It was a kiss that held the promise of something more, something real.

The sound of a camera shutter broke the spell. You pulled back, your cheeks flushed, to see a swarm of paparazzi photographers snapping pictures from outside the studio windows.

"Oh, no," you groaned, the reality of the situation crashing down on you.

Drew, however, seemed unfazed. He took your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours. "Let them," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

And so, the photos of you, the face of Miss Dior, kissing Drew, the man who brought you dandelions, were splashed across every magazine and website. The headlines screamed of a blossoming romance, a love story.

The reaction was mixed. Some fans were thrilled, others were heartbroken, and some were simply confused. But one thing was certain: the photos captured a moment of pure, unadulterated joy.

taglist:@chrislilcumslvt @chrepsi @drewstarkeyzwhore

dividers by @bernardsbendystraws

[shoeistars]

adrenaline rush !

incl. isagi, bachira, kunigami, reo, nagi, barou, rin, shidou

ʚଓ outline. there’s something different about the way he fucks you post match

ʚଓ w. 18+ content, minors dni, pro!characters, fem!bodied, read at your own discretion as I don’t do individual tagging for element of surprise

isagi !

It’s always the same. Not to say that Isagi had boring sex game— no, there is zero truth to that. Win, lose, draw, he had this primal feel to him once all was said and done on the pitch. Sweaty, a little flushed in the cheeks and ears, total tunnel vision because the one thing he wants after a game is a warm and wet pussy to sink into.

The hotel bed didn’t stand a chance, really. It has probably seen its fair share of fucking, has likely withheld many bumps and breaks. Each thrust caused an annoying creak to echo into the air, a small little cry for help that fell on deaf ears. He wasn’t the type to settle for a quick fuck but home was miles away and he was an impatient man. The walls were blank, the sheets wrinkling and coming undone from each corner of the mattress, bunching right underneath your spent body as he works you out further.

“Is there a reason why you’re bein’ quiet?” The rough cut of Isagi’s voice questions into your right ear, body mounted on top of yours as if to mimic that sweet and victorious moment of a predator capturing his dinner. There’s a rhythm to his hips as he plows you from behind, not quite hitting deep and merely focused on speed alone.

His hand, the one not curled loosely around your throat and threatening to cut off your oxygen supply, kneads at the crease of your hip meeting your thigh. It would feel like a rather loving touch if he weren’t battering into your guts to chase his own high. It goes off course and dips between your thighs, pawing gently at the mound of your hot cunt before introducing his middle and ring finger in a slippery dance against your clit.

“That’s fine, you don’t gotta say a thing,” He drawls on, choking on a groan at the feeling of you pulsing so delicately around his cock. That egoist that the field loves to see so much shines through even hours after he’s left the grass, after he’s ditched the cleats. It seeps out of his pores, it leaves his throat in the form of snark and cockiness. You’ve always told him how much you adored it when he got into his flow, anyway. “This pussy tells on you every fucking time.”

bachira !

Endorphins flooding his brain, Bachira can barely see straight. Every single win under his belt has felt the same, gave him that same smile and that familiar rush. There was nothing like reaching the tip of the iceberg and collecting yet another accomplishment in his career. He’s always been the type to celebrate by stretching the party, by chasing drinks and good food and enjoying company.

One of his favorite ways to celebrate a good and clean win is to have you spread out on the bed. As much as he misses his funky room back at home, the one filled with colors and his personality— the provided living quarters would have to suffice. Door locked, plenty of activity going on just outside. Bachira wasn’t himself if he weren’t living on the very edge.

Lips suctioned to your pussy, he can only smile at the feeling of sharp tugs assaulting his long hair. He’s still damp with sweat but you never seemed to mind, surely not when he was sucking you up like his last meal. He’s gotten the hang of going down on his girl after plenty of years, twisting and turning his tongue against your throbbing clit with technique. “Meguru, don’t stop,” you mewl rather loud, thighs twitching and toes curling against his shoulders.

“So loud,” he snickers against your pussy with glossy lips and lidded eyes, moaning softly against your folds before he’s pulling back to spit a thick glob onto your hole. His thumb dips down to smear it along your lips, biting his own at the erotic view before pushing the mess right back into your cunt. “Fuck, that’s pretty.”

The beautiful thing about a man as patient as Bachira was that he could do this for hours, sucking and licking and kissing. Nothing got him harder than getting you off, than suffocating in your cream and your scent. He had time.

kunigami !

Blue Lock as a whole ruined your boyfriend. He was never the same, never would be. There was a lack of spirit in him that was once his one unique quality. Everyone who knew Kunigami grew to adore him because he really was just a friendly face. Now, soccer and everything to do with the sport only brought out this nasty side to him.

The first time you were able to reunite was messy. Post game, he would normally stick to something easy. Nice dinner reservation, a little bit of harmless fun afterwards. That Kunigami was left in the goddamn dirt, replaced with someone who still loved but in such a drastically different way.

He was mean. Of course, you’d adapt. He would still remain loyal and considerate, would still make sure you were taken care of after all was said and done. There was just an animalistic dominance to him in the bedroom that was so unrecognizable to what once was. He was ferocious in the way he guided you down to your knees, slapping his thick and heavy dick against your cheek once, twice, three times for good measure.

Grunts and groans filled the room, never a quiet guy. The old Kunigami was gentle and even a bit timid but the way he fucks your face now is the opposite. Spit dribbling down your chin, throat nearly bulging with the head of his cock, gags so forcibly loud that they’d be leaving your voice hoarse. Your hands are shaky as they attempt to curl around the thickness of his quads, begging for a break. The sight only makes him scoff.

“Make me cum,” He demands, quiet yet filled with a sharpness that made you squeeze your thighs together. “Earn it.”

reo !

The time and place doesn’t matter— Reo will always be a sucker for missionary. He’s a yearner, he loves so deeply and a hundred wins could never compare to watching your face when he’s laying it down good. The furrow in your brow, the scrunch of your nose. Bliss always looked best on you and he just wouldn’t be him if he didn’t spoil you rotten.

Stupidly expensive chain dangling right in your face, the metal swaying with each hard thrust. Reo hasn’t blinked once since getting you on the leather sofa, focused on what you respond best to. Not a single twitch could go unnoticed by him and he’d be damned if he doesn’t get your cross-eyed, if he doesn’t get you singing by the time he’s done making a sloppy mess of you.

“So cute,” He whispers sweetly, a little tipsy from the after party that the two of you returned from just shy of an hour ago. Your makeup left messy trails and streaks all over but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t add to it all. Liquor staining his lips, he can’t help himself from diving down for a needy little kiss. Lips sliding against yours, just a ghost of a touch, almost missing and pecking at the corner of your mouth instead.

Your legs ache from how high they’re settled, heels propped on his shoulders. He’s gotten big since his first big steps at chasing a professional career, the protein doing what it was supposed to do. Your ogling of his physique was cut so short as he snuck a hand between your legs, circling at your clit with percision. He had a one track mind and that was to get you squirting, to get you feeling just as good as today has felt for him.

“Show me how wet this pussy gets for me,” Reo punctuates his plea with faster circles, deeper thrusts, unable to help the satisfied grin that tugs at his lips when you only grow louder. “Make me proud. Nut on my dick, know you can do it.”

nagi !

Not a lot of things come to impress Nagi Seishirou. He’s hard to capture the attention of, going through life with simplicity and preferring to stick to his guns. It was a shock to everyone who knew him when he landed a girlfriend in the first place. The same guy who disregarded everything that required the bare minimum amount of attention managed to score? It was almost too good to be true.

It was fair to assume that after years of learning how to be present, how to be a fair and decent boyfriend, he could never go back. Not after getting a taste of you, not after feeling the highs that you managed to pull straight out of him like a puppet to your string. You opened so many new doors, you were good for his mental.

The best way to spend a good night is to make it even better. Your thighs straddle his, the fancy little number you wore for such a big game ridden up and out of his way. Pussy leaking like a faucet, the sounds of you bouncing your hips is embarrassingly loud in the backseat of your car. The two of you just couldn’t wait.

“Look so good tonight, baby,” He practically slurs, pussydrunk and successfully knocked from all of the theatrics of the night. He can never seem to think straight once you’re on top of him like this, tits bouncing right in his face, wrapped around him like a serpent. “Know that? Did I already tell you? I’ll tell you a million times.”

Oh, how he would. He would do whatever the hell you want if you’d just stay like this, wrapped around him like a vise, squeezing him hotly. You were his dime piece and he’d be an utter fool to not bend at your every beck and call.

barou !

Naturally, his first order of business after hours of playing on the same standing grounds as a bunch of sweaty neanderthals is to hit the showers. There’s nothing that he hates more than the way his jersey sticks to his back like glue, the skin of his forehead dewy. What he wasn’t expecting was his little plus one to trail on in after him, clothes long ditched as you slot yourself into the tiny compact stalls of the stadium’s complementary showers.

You know him by now. You know that whether he ate a loss or devoured a victory that he wasn’t much of a talker after exerting himself in the hot sun. Nearly running on empty, this was the one and only time that the stupidly buff man was dead silent. Zero complaints left him as he wrapped a wet palm around the nape of your neck, brushing lazily at the hair there with his thumb, angling upwards until he could latch his lips to yours.

Slow kisses and gentle touches, there wasn’t much energy left for a rough fuck. Barou was a thorough lover at the end of the day, showing his gratitude of your endless support by making your pussy soak him sloppy. The sensuality made up for the lack of output, so tender and passionate in ways that screams his love without making him verbalize it. God forbid he ever did that.

“Oh, I know,” he purrs against your swollen bottom lip as he sinks in, sheer strength keeping you held in his arms, back against the cold tile of the shower. Your hearty whimpers bounce off of the walls and he swears it’s his favorite sound. It’s always a challenge to take such a thick cock and he’s nothing if not a gentleman. “It’s so deep, huh? You’re taking it so well, though.”

It always makes him bite back a grin of pride when your nails claw at his shoulders, leaving nasty marks into the meaty flesh— a last resort at gathering your bearings before he fucks you so out of your mind that you threaten to pass out every single time. The sounds are filthy as he pours every last bit of his effort into you, tiring you out to match.

rin !

Soccer invokes plenty of strong emotions out of Rin as a whole. The pitch is the one place where he can unleash everything, where it genuinely counts. Post match? He gets rather passionate, in his feelings, raw and open like a fresh cut. It’s clear that he puts his full effort into every little detail of his day, that he considers everything a waste if not done to the fullest.

Simply put, if you aren’t shaking purely from overstimulation and pleasure, he isn’t done. A man akin to a machine, stamina blessing him with several rounds in the tank, there’s no telling just how long he’ll keep you in the same position. Body pressed into the bed, twitching against the wrinkled sheets, weakly holding onto a pillow as your final saving grace.

“Shit, that’s it,” He hisses as soon as he feels the tight, hot grip of your cunt wringing him. It’s the fifth he’s managed to pull out of you, keeping you perfectly bent until you physically give out. Times like these, sweat glistening down your back and thighs quivering as if they’re ready to snap are his favorite.

A hand reaches until it hits skin. It runs along the nape of your neck, sticky and dewy yet so intimate. His fingers dip down to cup your chin, light in the way he forces you to look over your shoulder. Your eyes connect and it has you breaking all over again, doing your best to keep them open as you cum almost on instant. Balls clapping your swollen clit with the sheer angle he’s hitting, so deep in your guts that it hurts. You didn’t stand a chance against him.

No, you were the love of his goddamn life. The one person he looked for in a room full of people, the only one who’s seen every inch of his body. He could never be worthy of you if he couldn’t fuck you to sleep with ease.

shidou !

Shidou on the field and off of the field are arguably the same person. Still eccentric, still too inappropriate for his own good. He brings levels of excitement that are otherwise hard to reach and truly, it’s difficult to keep up with him. Marching to the beat of his own drum and seeking fulfillment is what gives him his drive, its fuel for his fire.

The hospitality was his favorite part of the Blue Lock journey. He outperformed majority of the selected players and he was rewarded in turn, given luxuries and spoiled to the nines with catering and amenities. His suite was huge and he’s already fucked you in every corner of it, every surface. It’s not his until it’s tainted with him, after all.

“Shit, I needed this after today,” His voice rasps in your ear, the hard plastic edge of the hot tub that he’s got you bent over successfully digging into your ribs. Bubbles and suds clap into the air with each thrust, water gently rocking into a splash as it spills past the confines and drips onto the concrete of the balcony. It was a beautiful night after a beautiful win and nothing could make this better for him. “Water’s so warm. Do you like it too? Huh, gorgeous?”

When a dick that long was forcing itself into you, in and out like a sick song, kissing your cervix with each hit— words were hard to come by. Moans and gasps rupture from your throat as you try to muster a nod, grasping at the slippery corner of the hot tub for dear life, his pelvis smacking against the globes of your ass hard enough to sting.

He stops, so cruel and mean, dick still fully lodged in your walls. Pressing deep, hugging your aching sides and tugging you into his chest, he plants sloppy wet kisses along your cheek. “C’mon,” Shidou sneers with a smile, downright evil in the way he brings a hand up to grip your face between his fingers. “Good girls speak when they’re spoken to.”

[ghstyles]

Pilates | H.S

Boyfriendrry | Smut | One shot | Long hair Harry | Masterlist

· ───────────

Summary: Yesterday’s Pilates class wrecked your body. Now every movement earns a breathy moan or a whimper—much to Harry’s frustration. Or…delight. Hard to tell.

· ───────────

The morning sunlight filters through the half-drawn curtains of Harry's London flat, casting golden stripes across the rumpled bedsheets. Harry sits at the small desk in the corner of the bedroom, guitar in lap, notebook open before him, trying to capture the melody that's been dancing through his head since yesterday's studio session.

A pitiful groan from the bed breaks his concentration.

Y/N lies there, having barely moved since waking nearly an hour ago. Her hair is splayed across the pillow in a tangled halo, her face contorted in a grimace that would be comical if it weren't for the genuine discomfort evident in her eyes.

"I think I'm dying," she announces dramatically, attempting to shift to a sitting position and immediately regretting it. "Ohhh my god, " The sound she makes is somewhere between a whimper and a moan, high-pitched and breathy.

Harry looks up, his pen pausing mid-word, distracted by the sound. It's eerily similar to noises he's drawn from her in much more pleasurable circumstances.

"You're not dying, love," he says, amusement coloring his deep voice. "It's just a bit of muscle soreness."

"A bit?" Y/N challenges, finally managing to prop herself up on her elbows, wincing with each small movement. "Harry, my abs feel like they've been put through a meat grinder. I didn't even know I had muscles in some of these places."

She attempts to swing her legs over the side of the bed, but the movement triggers another pathetic whimper that sends an unexpected jolt of heat through Harry's body. He shifts in his chair, suddenly very aware of how similar those sounds are to the ones she makes when he's buried deep inside her.

"I told you not to overdo it your first time," he reminds her, forcing his attention back to the notebook, though the melody he'd been chasing has completely vanished from his mind.

"The instructor said I was doing great!" Y/N protests, finally upright on the edge of the bed. "She kept using me as an example for the class."

Harry chuckles, shaking his head. "Because you were pushing too hard, trying to match what the regulars were doing. Those women have been at it for years, baby."

Y/N attempts to stand, and the sound that escapes her lips, a breathy "ahhh" that trails into a soft moan, makes Harry's grip tighten on his pen, the lyrics he'd been writing now completely forgotten.

"Everything hurts," she whines, shuffling toward the bathroom with tiny, careful steps. "Even my ass muscles hurt. I didn't know ass muscles could hurt like this."

Harry watches her slow progress across the room, her usual graceful movements replaced by this stiff, awkward gait. She's wearing nothing but one of his old t-shirts, the hem hitting mid-thigh, offering tantalizing glimpses of her long legs with each careful step.

"Your ass muscles," he repeats, unable to help the smirk that tugs at his lips. "I believe the technical term is glutes, love."

She shoots him a withering look over her shoulder. "I don't care what they're called. They hurt."

She reaches the bathroom doorway and has to brace herself against the frame to turn. The movement elicits another soft gasp of pain that sounds entirely too much like pleasure for Harry's concentration.

He forces his attention back to the notebook, tapping his pen against the paper rhythmically, trying to recapture his creative flow. But instead of lyrics, his mind keeps replaying the little sounds Y/N's making, each breathy gasp and whimper conjuring memories of her beneath him, around him, making those exact same sounds for very different reasons.

The toilet flushes, followed by the sound of running water. A moment later, Y/N emerges, looking slightly more awake but moving no less gingerly.

"I need coffee," she announces, as though embarking on an Arctic expedition rather than a trip to the kitchen. "And maybe morphine."

Harry watches as she begins her slow journey across the bedroom toward the door, each step accompanied by a little huff of discomfort. When she reaches the doorway, she pauses, seeming to steel herself for the stairs that lie beyond.

"Want me to carry you down?" he offers, only half-joking.

"No," she says stubbornly. "I need to move or I'll seize up completely. That's what the instructor said."

She takes the first step out into the hallway and lets out a sound that's halfway between a moan and a curse, the pitch rising at the end in a way that makes Harry's jeans suddenly feel a bit too tight.

He shifts in his chair again, adjusting himself discreetly, and tries once more to focus on the song he's supposed to be finishing. The label needs it by the end of the week, and he's promised his producer he'd have a demo ready to record tomorrow.

But then he hears Y/N's slow progress down the stairs, each step punctuated by little gasps and whines that float up to the bedroom. It's like auditory torture, each sound reminiscent of their most intimate moments together, but delivered in this completely innocent context.

"Fuck," he mutters under his breath, setting the guitar aside. This isn't working.

He runs a hand through his hair, pushing the long curls back from his face in frustration. He needs to focus. He has deadlines, commitments, and an entire team waiting on this song.

The sound of something clattering in the kitchen below, followed by a drawn-out "Owwww" that's practically pornographic in its delivery, is the final straw.

Harry stands, adjusting his jeans again and heading downstairs. He finds Y/N in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a grimace on her face, the coffee canister on the floor where she'd apparently dropped it.

"Bending down is not happening today," she informs him miserably, gesturing to the canister. "I physically cannot."

Harry stoops to pick up the coffee, setting it on the counter beside her. His eyes roam over her face, the slight flush on her cheeks, the way she's biting her lower lip in discomfort, and he feels another surge of heat low in his belly.

"You're making a lot of noise up there," he comments, moving to the coffee maker and measuring out grounds with practiced ease.

"Well, excuse me for being in pain," she retorts, but there's no real heat in it. "Not all of us can be Mr. Perfect Fitness who never gets sore."

Harry snorts at that. "I get sore. I just don't sound like I'm auditioning for a porn film when I am."

Y/N's eyes widen, her mouth dropping open in indignation. "I do not sound like– "

"You do," he interrupts, a mischievous glint in his green eyes as he starts the coffee brewing. "Every little gasp and moan. It's very distracting, love."

A blush spreads across her cheeks as understanding dawns. "Oh my god, are you getting turned on by my pain?"

"Not the pain," Harry clarifies, stepping closer to her, his voice dropping lower. "The sounds. They remind me of...other situations."

His hands find her waist, gentle but possessive, and he pulls her carefully against him, mindful of her soreness.

"You're unbelievable," she murmurs, but he doesn't miss the way her pupils dilate slightly, the way she leans into his touch despite her discomfort.

"I'm trying to work," he says, his lips brushing against her ear now. "Trying to finish this song that's due. But all I can hear is you, making these little sounds that make me think of very specific things I'd like to be doing to you right now."

Y/N's breath catches, and the sound, half surprised, half aroused, only adds fuel to the fire building inside him.

"I can't help it," she protests weakly. "Everything hurts."

"I know, baby," he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to her neck. "And normally, I'd be very sympathetic. But right now, all I can think about is how those same sounds would feel vibrating against my cock."

The crude words, delivered in his smooth, honeyed voice, make her gasp, another sound that goes straight to his groin.

"Harry," she breathes, half-scandalized, half-intrigued. "I can barely move without wincing. I don't think sex is on the table right now."

He pulls back slightly, looking down at her with that intensity that always makes her knees weak, or would, if her muscles weren't already trembling from yesterday's exertion.

"Who said anything about you moving?" he asks, a wicked smile playing at his lips. "I was thinking of something that would let you lie back and relax. Something that might even help with the soreness."

His hand traces lightly down her side, over the curve of her hip, then slips beneath the hem of the t-shirt she's wearing. His fingers dance along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, making her breath hitch.

"The coffee's going to get cold," she whispers, but her body is already responding to his touch, leaning into him despite the protest of her sore muscles.

"I'll make more," Harry promises, his fingers inching higher, finding her already wet beneath her underwear. "Right now, I need to hear those sounds properly. Need to know they're because of pleasure, not pain."

Y/N's head falls back as his fingers slide against her, a moan escaping her that's unmistakably one of desire now.

"Upstairs might be too far," she admits breathlessly, her hips moving slightly despite her soreness, seeking more pressure from his skilled fingers.

Harry smirks, enjoying the way she's already melting for him, despite her earlier protests. "Kitchen counter it is, then."

In one smooth motion, he lifts her onto the counter, careful not to jar her sore muscles too much. The new position puts her at perfect height, and he wastes no time pushing the t-shirt up to her waist, hooking his fingers in the waistband of her underwear.

"Lift up just a bit for me, love," he murmurs, and she complies with only a small wince, allowing him to slide the fabric down her legs and toss it aside.

The coffee maker beeps, indicating it's finished brewing, but neither of them pays it any attention now. Harry's focus is entirely on Y/N, spread before him on the kitchen counter, her hair tumbling around her shoulders, her eyes dark with want.

"Remember," he says, sinking to his knees before her, his hands gently spreading her thighs wider, "you don't have to move. Just let me take care of you."

His mouth finds her center with practiced ease, and the sound she makes, a high, keening moan that echoes off the kitchen tiles, is exactly what he's been craving all morning.

"That's it," he murmurs against her sensitive flesh, his tongue drawing lazy circles around her clit. "Let me hear you properly, baby."

Y/N's hands find purchase in his curls, her body responding to his skilled mouth despite the soreness in her muscles. Each flick of his tongue draws a new sound from her: gasps, moans, his name whispered like a prayer.

These are the sounds he knows, the ones that fuel his desire, the ones that inspire lyrics he can't share with the world because they're too intimate, too raw, too much a reflection of what happens between them in private moments like this.

Harry loses himself in the taste of her, in the symphony of sounds she's making now, no longer whimpers of pain but cries of escalating pleasure. His hands grip her thighs, holding her in place as his tongue works its magic, bringing her closer and closer to the edge.

"Harry," she gasps, tugging at his hair, her body tensing in that familiar way that tells him she's close. "Oh god, Harry, "

He doubles his efforts, his tongue flicking rapidly against her most sensitive spot, and she comes with a cry that's loud enough to make him grateful for the privacy his secluded home provides. Her thighs tremble around his head, her back arching as pleasure courses through her, temporarily making her forget all about her sore muscles.

When the aftershocks subside, Harry presses a gentle kiss to her inner thigh before rising to his feet, a self-satisfied smirk on his lips.

"Better than coffee for waking you up, I'd say," he murmurs, leaning in to kiss her properly, letting her taste herself on his tongue.

Y/N hums contentedly against his lips, her arms draping loosely around his neck. "Definitely better than coffee," she agrees breathlessly. "Though I'm not sure it helped with the muscle soreness."

Harry chuckles, his hands running soothingly along her sides. "Give it time. Endorphins are nature's painkillers."

She glances down at the obvious bulge in his jeans. "What about you? Don't you want me to...?"

Harry shakes his head, pressing another quick kiss to her lips. "Later. Right now, I've got a song to finish, and I think I just found my missing inspiration."

He helps her down from the counter, steadying her when her legs wobble slightly, partly from her orgasm, partly from her persistent soreness.

"Your muse is my pilates-induced agony?" she asks, raising an eyebrow as she retrieves her underwear from where he'd tossed it.

Harry grins, pouring them each a cup of the now-lukewarm coffee. "Not the agony, love. The sounds. The way you come undone. That's always been my muse."

He hands her a mug, his eyes softening as he takes in her flushed cheeks, her slightly mussed hair, the way she's still moving carefully despite the temporary distraction he'd provided.

"Though maybe stick to yoga next time," he suggests with a wink. "Less soreness, more flexibility. Win-win for both of us."

Y/N laughs, shaking her head at him. "You're ridiculous."

"You love it," he counters confidently, taking a sip of his coffee.

As they stand there in the morning light of his kitchen, her still in his t-shirt, him with the taste of her still on his tongue, Harry feels the melody return to him, clearer now, more insistent. The song that had eluded him all morning suddenly took shape in his mind, inspired by the sounds of her pleasure, by the intimacy they share that's deeper than just physical.

"Go back to bed if you want," he tells her, setting his mug down. "Rest those sore muscles. I'll bring you lunch later."

"Are you kicking me out so you can work?" she asks, amusement dancing in her eyes.

"I'm suggesting you get comfortable while I capture this song before it slips away again," he clarifies, already itching to get back to his guitar, to translate what he's feeling into music.

Y/N nods understanding, familiar with the way inspiration strikes him sometimes, urgent and demanding, requiring immediate attention.

"Don't work too hard," she says, stretching up (with only a small wince) to press a kiss to his cheek before taking her coffee and heading back toward the stairs.

Harry watches her go, still moving carefully but with a new languidness to her gait that speaks of satisfaction. As she begins her slow ascent up the stairs, she glances back over her shoulder, catching him watching her.

"Like what you see, Styles?" she teases, a knowing smile playing at her lips.

"Always," he answers simply, honestly. "Even when you're moving like an eighty-year-old woman."

She sticks her tongue out at him childishly before continuing her careful climb, and Harry can't help the rush of affection that washes over him. This is what the public doesn't see: the playful moments, the vulnerability, the way she inspires him not just with her beauty but with her spirit, her humor, her resilience.

· · ───────────

a/n: my first standalone one shot. Hope you enjoyed !

Taglist: @triski73 @angeldavis777 @ivegotthecinema @bethiegurl19 @sstylezzz @spargelhund @myfavefanficsever

[vividseoultales]

Leaked ( Lia x Male OC ft. Male Reader )

tags : angst smut

The bass thumped through the walls of the house, setting the rhythm for the night. The party was in full swing, a sea of bodies moving in sync with the music, laughter punctuating the air like popcorn in a microwave. You and Lia walked in, hand in hand, the warm glow of the lights reflecting off her brown hair. She looked stunning in her little crop top and skirt, the kind that made your heart stumble every time she turned to smile at you.

As you both made your way through the crowd, you couldn't help but notice the glances that lingered on Lia. At first, it was just a few – the occasional side-eye from a guy who thought he was being slick. But as the night went on, the frequency of the looks grew. It was like they had radars tuned to her beauty, their eyes drawn to her like moths to a flame. Each gaze was a tiny dart, pricking at your skin, a not-so-subtle reminder of the nude photos that had once circulated like wildfire. But Lia remained unfazed, her smile never wavering, her eyes only for you.

The leak had been a hurricane, ripping through your lives without warning. For weeks, Lia had been a prisoner in her own home, the weight of embarrassment and fear heavy on her shoulders. You had stood by her side, a rock amidst the storm, holding her tight when the tears came and the cruel messages flooded in. The digital world had feasted on her vulnerability, but she had emerged stronger, more determined to live her life without letting it define her.

The intimate photos, once just a treasure shared between the two of you, had been sent to you during a time when she had been feeling particularly adventurous. They were a declaration of her love, her trust in you. They had captured moments of passion and playfulness, her bare skin bathed in the soft glow of candlelight. Her eyes had sparkled with mischief, her smile brimming with affection. Those images had been a secret language only you two knew, a silent whisper of love that no one else could ever understand.

Now, as you watched her navigate the party with grace, you felt a surge of protectiveness. You knew the strength it had taken for her to come out tonight, to face the world again, especially after the storm. She had picked herself up, dusted off the dirt thrown at her, and stepped back into the limelight. Her confidence was palpable, a force field around her that seemed to say, "You can look, but you can't touch." The leaked photos had become a badge of resilience rather than a scarlet letter.

The drinks flowed freely, and as the night grew heavier, so did the laughter. The alcohol loosened your grip on the tension that had been coiled in your chest since the leak. You downed a shot of whiskey, the burn spreading through your body like warm honey, chasing away the lingering shadows of doubt and anger. Lia's eyes sparkled as she sipped on her fruity cocktail, the sweetness of it making her cheeks flush. The room grew warmer, the air thick with the scent of perfume and the promise of fun.

Her friend, Yuna, a fiery redhead with a penchant for mischief, pulled Lia into a dance circle that had formed in the living room. Yuna's laughter was infectious, and soon Lia's shyness melted away as she swayed to the music, her hips moving in a way that made you ache.

As the party swirled around you, you found yourself drifting towards the couch, the plush cushions beckoning like a warm embrace. You sank into it, watching Lia from the sidelines, your eyes growing heavier with each beat of the bass. The whiskey had done its job, the edges of the room blurring slightly, the lights above spinning like disco balls in a slow dance with your vision. Before you knew it, your eyes were closed, and the party sounds faded into a distant symphony of whispers and music.

Lia noticed your peaceful slumber, moved to you and kissed you gently on the forehead before retreating into the throbbing heart of the party. She danced with an energy that was both mesmerizing and liberating, her movements as fluid as the drinks being passed around. Each sway of her hips and toss of her hair was a silent declaration of her freedom, a dance of defiance in the face of the prying eyes that had once brought her so much pain. Her laughter, mingled with the music, was a sweet melody that filled the room, a testament to her resilience.

As the night grew darker and the music louder, more guys started to gravitate towards their circle, drawn by Lia's magnetic allure. They danced with an unspoken competition, vying for her attention. Each one tried to outdo the other with their moves, their eyes never leaving her body.

Lia, feeling the effects of the drinks, didn't think much of it. She was in her element, her cheeks flushed and her eyes gleaming with tipsy excitement. The whispers and glances of the past few months had made her feel like she was wearing a neon sign, but tonight she was determined to reclaim her power. She danced freely, her inhibitions lowered by the sweet embrace of the alcohol. Her movements were bold, each step a declaration of her right to enjoy herself without judgment.

But as the night grew denser, one of the guys grew bolder. His hands started to wander, first grazing her hips, then sliding up her back, and finally resting on the small of her waist. She felt a shiver run down her spine, a ghostly echo of the unwanted touches from the past. Her smile remained in place, a mask that had become second nature, even as she felt her heart race with a mix of excitement and unease. She didn't pull away, not yet. Instead, she allowed the music to swallow her whole, letting the beat of the bass pound out the thoughts that threatened to overwhelm her.

The guy behind her grew more insistent, his grip tightening, his crotch pressing against her. The warmth of his arousal seeped through her skirt, and she felt a blush spread across her cheeks, hot as a summer sunset. The whiskey had loosened her up, the room spinning around her like a carousel. She told herself it was just the music, the heat of the bodies surrounding her, but deep down, she knew it was the thrill of his desire. The line between innocent fun and uncomfortable attention grew thinner with each pulse of the music.

Glancing over her shoulder, she searched for you through the kaleidoscope of colors and faces, her eyes landing on your peaceful form sprawled on the couch. You were oblivious to the world, lost in a whiskey-induced slumber, your chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that she found oddly comforting. The room tilted again, and she took a deep breath, her heart hammering in her chest like a drummer in a death metal band.

The guy behind her leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear, "You're the one, aren't you?" he whispered, his hand inching lower, his voice thick with inebriation and something else – malice or curiosity, she wasn't quite sure. "The chick who had her nudes plastered all over the internet." His words were a slap in the face, a stark reminder of the digital nightmare she had endured. For a moment, the music faded, the laughter a distant echo, and all she could hear was the blood rushing in her ears.

Without breaking the rhythm of her dance, she turned to face him, her eyes meeting his with a fiery determination. "Yeah, that's me," she replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil churning within her. She felt his grip tighten, pulling her closer, his body pressing against hers like an unwelcome embrace. "I jacked off to those pics way too many times," he slurred, his grin lecherous and knowing. The words hit her like a punch to the gut, a reminder that no matter how much she had moved on, she could never truly escape the shadow..

Her heart racing, she leaned in, her voice dropping to a seductive whisper, "Then you must have really loved them," she said, her sarcasm thick as honey. His eyes widened, his grin faltering just a fraction. She could feel the tension in the air, the moment teetering on a knife's edge. But she wasn't about to let him think he had won. She had faced the storm, had her share of battles, and she wasn't going to let some drunken jerk take away her night.

He leaned in closer, his breath hot and sticky with alcohol, "Want to make some new memories?" His hand slithered down to her ass, squeezing with a force that made her teeth clench. She felt the room spin around her, the music growing louder, more oppressive. The line had been crossed, and she knew it was time to take control.

Turning to face him fully, she placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back slightly. "I appreciate the offer," she said, her voice dripping with sweetness that could cut through steel, "but I've got a boyfriend." She gestured towards you, still passed out on the couch. "And he's right over there." The guy's smile didn't falter, his eyes still gleaming with lust. "He's asleep," he pointed out, his voice low and suggestive. "Won't even know you're gone."

The room grew hotter, the air thick with the scent of desire and desperation. His hand slid down from her ass, tracing the inner thigh, his fingers dangerously close to the wetness that had been building up during their dance. She could feel his intentions, raw and unfiltered. A part of her was scared, but a bigger part was angry – angry that she had to deal with this, that she couldn't just enjoy herself without someone trying to claim a piece of her.

His eyes searched hers, looking for an invitation that wasn't there. The hand on her thigh moved lower, grazing the soft fabric of her panties, his thumb pressing against the dampness that had soaked through. She felt a shiver, a mix of fear and excitement, the whiskey playing tricks on her judgment.

"I just want to talk," he said, his voice a sickly sweet lie that stuck to her like syrup. She glanced over her shoulder at you, still lost in sleep on the couch. For a brief moment, she considered walking away, leaving him behind in the sea of partygoers. But something in his eyes – a desperation, a hunger – made her hesitate. Maybe talking would be the key to making him understand, to putting him in his place.

With a nod, she allowed him to lead her through the writhing mass of bodies, the music a dull throb in her ears. They stumbled into the bathroom, the harsh light a stark contrast to the warm glow of the party. She leaned against the sink, watching him in the mirror as he fumbled with the lock. His reflection was a twisted caricature, his smile more of a leer than anything friendly. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for whatever conversation was about to unfold.

"You were so fucking hot in those photos," he said, stepping closer. His voice was gruff with lust, his eyes never leaving her reflection. He was tall, towering over her, and she had to crane her neck to meet his gaze. The smell of whiskey on his breath was overpowering, making her stomach turn. She felt his hand on her hip, his fingers digging in just enough to make her aware of his presence. "I couldn't believe it was you when I saw them," he continued, his voice thick with admiration and something else – a hint of possessiveness.

Her heart was racing now, the thrill of the dance replaced with a cold dread that was spreading through her body like a disease. She told herself she could handle this, that she was in control. "Thanks," she said, her voice cool and detached, "but as I said, I'm not interested." She tried to move away, but he followed her, his hand moving up to cup her breast, his thumb brushing against her nipple through the fabric of her top.

The touch was electric, sending a jolt of fear through her body, but also something else – a spark of arousal. It was confusing, a mix of emotions she didn't want to feel. She pushed his hand away firmly, "I'm serious. I just want to dance." His eyes narrowed, his smile slipping. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her neck, "You liked the attention before," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "Why stop now?"

Lia's heart hammered in her chest, the walls closing in around her. She could feel the anger building up, a volcano ready to erupt. Her eyes flashing with a fierce determination, "I don't owe you anything," she said, her voice firm. "What I do with my body, what I share with my boyfriend – that's my choice."

The guy's grip tightened around her, his eyes glazed over with desire. He stepped closer, his body pressing against hers, trapping her between him and the sink. His hands began to roam more aggressively, one sliding up to cradle her breast, his thumb teasing her nipple, the other slipping under her skirt to caress the softness of her thigh. She could feel the heat of his arousal through his pants, a stark contrast to the cold sweat that had broken out on her forehead.

Lia's mind raced, trying to find a way out of this situation without causing a scene. She knew she had to be smart, to not let him think she was just playing hard to get. "Please," she said, her voice shaking slightly, "I just want to go back to the party."

He chuckled, the sound grating against her eardrums like nails on a chalkboard. "You think you can just tease me like that and walk away?" His hand slid further up her thigh, his fingers dangerously close to the heat between her legs. Panic bubbled in her stomach, a toxic cocktail of fear and arousal.

Against her better judgment, she allowed him to continue, her body tensing with each caress. Maybe if she just gave him what he wanted, he'd leave her alone. Maybe it was easier to endure this than to fight, to scream, to cause a scene. The whiskey had loosened her defenses, the room spinning with the weight of his touch.

He leaned in, his mouth finding hers in a kiss that was more of a claim than a gesture of affection. His tongue pushed past her teeth, tasting of mint and whiskey, as his hands grew bolder. They explored her body with the entitlement of a conqueror, mapping out the curves and valleys like he owned them. She kissed him back, her hands moving to his shoulders, not pushing him away but holding on, as if to keep the world at bay.

The music outside the bathroom was a distant throb, the only other sound the muffled laughter and the occasional shout of someone passing by, oblivious to the drama unfolding behind the locked door. Lia's heart was racing, but she didn't fight, didn't struggle. It was as if she had resigned herself to this moment, her body moving almost on autopilot.

His hand slid further up her skirt, his fingertips grazing the wet fabric of her panties. She felt his knuckles brush against the sensitive flesh, and she gasped into his mouth. The taste of whiskey was strong, a bitter reminder of the power he held over her.

In the mirror, she saw the reflection of someone she didn't recognize, someone who was letting this happen. But she also saw the fear in her own eyes, the desperation to keep the peace, to not let the past dictate her future.

With a heavy heart, she gave in. He unbuckled his pants, and she dropped to her knees, her mouth watering with a mix of dread and anticipation. The room spun around her, the smell of alcohol and sweat mixing with the sickly sweet scent of his cologne. She took him in her mouth, his hands tangling in her hair as he guided her movements. It was mechanical, almost robotic, as she tried to ignore the part of her that was responding to his touch. She focused on the feeling of power, the knowledge that she was in control, that she was choosing this path.

The taste of him was bitter, but she didn't pull away. She took him deeper, her tongue swirling around his length as if she enjoyed it, as if she weren't just going through the motions. His moans grew louder, his breath coming in harsh pants as she worked him with a practiced ease that belied her inebriated state. His hands tightened in her hair, and she felt a twinge of pain, but she didn't flinch. This was what he wanted, what he thought he deserved, and she was going to give it to him.

As she bobbed her head, the room spun faster, the music from outside the bathroom a muffled roar that seemed to echo in her ears. His grip grew more insistent, his hips thrusting forward, pushing her further down until she could feel the head of his cock hit the back of her throat. She gagged, but he didn't stop, didn't even seem to notice. He was lost in his own pleasure, his eyes squeezed shut, his face a mask of concentration.

Her jaw ached, her knees complained against the cold tile floor, but she didn't stop. Her hands roamed over his thighs, her nails digging in just enough to leave marks, to make him aware of her presence, of the power she still held. His touch grew bolder, his hands roaming her body like he had every right to, as if she was his to take. She felt his fingers slide under her top, cupping her breasts, his thumbs flicking over her nipples until they stood at attention. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure that made her head spin even more.

The hand in her hair grew rougher, his hips moving faster as he pushed her further down. She could feel him getting closer, his breath hitching in his chest. He groaned, his grip tightening, and she knew he was about to come. The thought of it, the power she had over him, made her own body respond, a wetness pooling between her legs. It was a strange dance of control and submission, a tango played out in the harsh light of the bathroom mirror.

As he reached his climax, she took him in, swallowing the salty taste with a practiced ease that made him grunt in satisfaction. His body shuddered, his hands going slack in her hair. He pulled out, panting, his eyes wide with a mix of lust and surprise. He had gotten what he wanted, and she had given it to him, but the power was still in her grasp.

He leaned against the sink, his chest heaving as he tucked himself back into his pants. Lia took a moment to compose herself, straightening her skirt and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She could feel the wetness of her own arousal, a traitorous response to his touch, and she was both disgusted and thrilled by it.

He reached for her, his hand cupping her cheek with a tenderness that seemed out of place in the harsh bathroom light. "You're so fucking hot," he murmured, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. She didn't pull away, didn't flinch. Instead, she looked him in the eye, a silent challenge.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice steady despite the tremor in her chest. He searched her eyes, as if looking for the answer in the depths of her soul. "I just want to fuck you," he said, his voice raw with need. She could see the desire in his eyes, the desperation that had driven him to this point.

For a moment, she considered it. His hands were still on her body, his touch leaving a trail of heat in their wake. She could feel the ache between her legs, the throb of her own desire. It was tempting, the thought of letting go, of giving in to the passion that had been simmering just below the surface all night. But then she thought of you, of the promise you two had made to each other, and she knew she couldn't do it.

"No," she said firmly, pushing him away. He stumbled back, surprise etching lines on his face. "What?" he asked, his voice thick with confusion. "Why not?"

"Because I have a boyfriend," she said, her voice clear and unwavering. "And I respect myself too much to let you do this." His expression changed, the hunger in his eyes morphing into something darker, more dangerous. "You're just playing hard to get," he growled, stepping closer. "I know you want it."

He reached for her again, his hands rough and insistent. She stepped back, her body shaking with the effort of keeping her resolve. "Please," she said, her voice a whisper that seemed to echo in the small space, "just leave me alone." But he didn't listen. He stepped closer, his hand reaching for her again.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. "Why would you deny us both what we want?" His voice was persuasive, a siren's call that threatened to lure her into his web. She felt the temptation, the heat of his words wrapping around her like a warm blanket.

But she remained strong, pushing his hand away. "I'm not playing games," she said, her voice firm. "I don't want this." His eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of weakness, any crack in the armor she had built around herself.

He stepped closer, his hand sliding around her waist, pulling her into his body. "You're just scared," he said, his voice a seductive purr. "But I'll make it good for you, I promise." His other hand slid up her skirt, his fingertips brushing against the wetness of her panties. She gasped, her body betraying her despite her protests.

The room swam around her, the alcohol making her head spin. His touch was intoxicating, his scent of sweat and cologne overwhelming. She felt a part of her giving in, the wall she had built around herself crumbling under the weight of his desire. His hand slipped under her panties, his fingers sliding through the slickness, and she couldn't help but arch into his touch.

"See," he murmured, his breath hot against her neck, "you do want it." His mouth found her ear, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. "Just let go." His voice was a siren's call, a whisper in the dark that she couldn't resist. With a shaky sigh, she leaned into him, her hands sliding up his chest.

He kissed her again, his tongue pushing past her lips, his hands roaming her body with a newfound urgency. The taste of whiskey and mint filled her mouth, a heady concoction that seemed to fuel her own desire. His hand was between her legs now, his thumb rubbing slow circles around her clit as he whispered sweet nothings into her ear.

Her knees buckled, and she clung to him, the room spinning out of control. He kissed her deeper, his hand moving faster, his thumb pressing down with just the right amount of pressure. The tension in her body grew, coiling like a snake ready to strike.

With a whimper, she gave in. "Okay," she breathed against his lips, her voice barely a whisper. "Okay." His eyes gleamed with victory, and he lifted her onto the sink, spreading her legs wide. She could feel the cold porcelain against her back, a stark contrast to the heat between her thighs.

He stepped between her legs, his cock standing proud and hard. He slid into her with a groan, his hips moving with a familiar rhythm that sent shockwaves through her body. She wrapped her legs around him, her nails digging into his back, urging him deeper. The fear was still there, a cold knot in her stomach, but it was buried under the weight of pleasure that was quickly building.

He fucked her hard, the sink rocking beneath their combined weight. She could feel her orgasm approaching, a crescendo that was both terrifying and exhilarating. She didn't want this, she didn't want him, but her body had a mind of its own, responding to his touch like it was the only thing that mattered.

Her moans filled the small room, echoing off the tiles as she gave herself over to the sensation. His hands were everywhere, his mouth on her neck, her breasts, her mouth. The world outside the bathroom faded away, leaving just the two of them in a haze of passion and desperation.

And as she came, the room spinning around her, she felt a strange mix of satisfaction and despair. She had given in, had let him take what he wanted, and now she was his. But she also knew that she had made a choice, that she had allowed this to happen. And with that knowledge, she felt a strange sense of power, a thrill that she couldn't quite put into words.

The guy groaned, his body tensing as he reached his own climax, his cock pulsing inside her. He leaned into her, his forehead resting against hers, his breath ragged. "You're mine," he murmured, his voice filled with a possessiveness that sent a shiver down her spine. But she didn't disagree. For tonight, in this moment, she was his. And she had made her peace with that.

The sound of the door opening made them both jump, the spell broken. The bathroom was suddenly too small, the air thick with the scent of sex and regret. She slid off the sink, her legs shaking as she tried to stand. He zipped up his pants, a smug smile playing on his lips. "You'll be back for more," he said, his voice filled with confidence.

Lia didn't bother to reply. She just opened the door, the music from the party crashing over her like a wave. She stumbled out into the sea of bodies, her heart racing, her thoughts a jumbled mess. She didn't look back, didn't acknowledge the guy as he followed her. She just focused on finding you, the one person she knew could anchor her in this storm.

[pivoinev]

　　　୨୧　DRUNK OFF YOU.

　　𝑟𝑒́𝓈𝑢𝑚𝑒𝑟 𖫲 ❛ when she drunkenly kisses you ❜

사랑과 애정 　──　 ellie williams ♡ 𝑓. reader ⟡ 7OO fluff best friends to lovers ﹗ drinking kissing skinship ⋮ ૮◞ ◟𑁬 [ 𝑐𝗅𝑖𝑐𝗄 ]

The music blared from the speakers. Lights flashed and wove around people, casting dancing shadows on the walls as Ellie watched you from afar. She stared at you in your short, navy blue dress──the same one she helped you pick out the night before. She scanned the flushed look on your face while you continued to drink, your smile wide and infectious as you chatted with a mutual friend.

She poured herself a drink, the air thick with the smell of alcohol, sex, and weed. The sound of laughter erupted around her while underlined by the occasional whining of someone wanting to go home. But she couldn’t give less of a fuck about them when you were there. Her heart sank with adoration and anxiety as she swallowed her drink.

Memories of you flashed through her mind, bringing back the warmth of your body as you held her tightly after that argument with Joel. The way you gently rubbed her head while she cried into your shoulder, fingers twirling in her hair. She missed it so fucking bad.

Her eyes drifted back to you, and for a brief moment, your gazes locked before Ellie embarrassingly turned away.

She told herself a million times that tonight would be different, that she would enjoy herself without doing anything stupid. You were her best friend; that should’ve been enough. But as she watched you laugh, a familiar ache settled in her chest.

From across the room, you watched Ellie seize a bottle of vodka, downing it as if it were nothing more than water. Your heart drowned in anxiety as you observed her, wondering what brought her to this point──to drown herself out with alcohol.

Thoughts plagued Ellie’s mind, intensifying with every sip. What if I ruin everything? She took a deep breath, feigning a smile as she stole a glance at you, shaking her head at her own stupidity. Just a friend, she reminded herself, lugging down another glass as if hoping it would drown out her feelings for you.

Drink after drink, Ellie felt herself slipping, the thought of you blooming in her mind like marigolds bursting after the spring rain. But with each sip, the line between friend and something more began to blur. She became loosened, like a knot finally untied.

…

The world around her began to blur and spin as the drinks flowed. Everything became a morphed, distorted hum, but your voice cut through the haze with sudden clarity. She blinked slowly, each flutter of her lashes attempting to swat away the encroaching drowsiness.

You examined her state, noting the way she mumbled to herself and the consistent faltering in her step. Concern gripped you as you walked toward her.

The room tilted, and Ellie staggered backward against the cold wall, sliding down into a crouch. She could still feel the warmth of your skin from that day; the soft fragrance you wore filled her senses in a phantom state.

“Ellie..?”

Her heart plummeted when she heard your voice, panic igniting as she looked at you. You furrowed your brows in unease, watching her with distraught eyes. Your gaze lingered on hers for a moment before she rose unsteadily to her feet.

“Ellie, what’s go──“ your voice slipped from your lips like a ghost as Ellie’s hands gently cupped your face, her heart pounding like the hooves of a race horse. A warm rush filled your cheeks, your knees becoming jelly as your eyes locked.

Any sense of rational thought evaporated as she leaned in, her lips capturing yours and fully immersing herself into you. The taste of liquor tainted the sweet kiss as you fell victim to her intoxicating flavour.

Ellie pulled back slightly and your breath quickened. A smile graced her face as her eyes flickered from your lips to your pretty eyes. You longed for the bittersweet taste of her kiss, wrapping your arms around her neck and pressing against her.

Ellie’s lips found yours again, and you melted into the kiss, surrendering to her touch as her hands lingered on your lower back. Her fingers dug into your skin, pulling you closer, a craving for more igniting between you. All the doubts in her mind fell away as your lips moved effortlessly together, the environment around you dissolving into a blissful blur. With each breath shared between kisses, Ellie teetered on the edge of consciousness, lost in the intoxicating delicacy of your lips.

© 𝗽𝗶𝘃𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘃 𝖾𝗌𝗍 2024.

[nottswitch]

⋆˙⟡♡ VENUS IN PISCES

venus in pisces paints such an idealistic picture of their partner that it can be hard for them to notice red flags. this placement is sensitive and emotional, which makes the tears easy to flow when overwhelmed.

theo nott x reader x lorenzo berkshire

warnings: 18+ mdni, double penetration, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, slight overstimulation, sharing, praise, cursing

nav // event / more

you and theo have been talking about this for a while – both of you were into the idea of a threesome, so it just seemed right to try it with one of his willing friends. what you didn’t expect, though, was him to show up with none other than lorenzo. the latter’s smirk should’ve been a dead giveaway that it’s not going to be gentle – and oh god, it wasn’t.

your body was pressed tightly to theo’s as you laid on top of him, your face tucked into his neck. his cock was deep inside your dripping pussy, easily sliding in and out, as was lorenzo’s. you didn’t know what to expect before, but now you were certain – having two big dicks in your pussy was probably the best pleasure you’d ever felt, as much as it was painful and unusual at first.

"fuck, nott, you’ve been keeping all this to yourself all this time, huh?” you heard enzo’s voice from behind as he thrusted deeper, prompting theo to do the same. he chuckled hoarsely, his hand finding your chin to tilt your head. he wanted to look at you, even though you were doing your best to stay hidden in the crook of his neck – you were too out of it, too flustered and somewhat embarrassed.

"she’s so good, i know. aren’t you, tesoro?" theo murmured, gazing tenderly into your glassy eyes. the sight of tears about to fall down your cheeks made his expression soften, which was a complete contrast to the deep and hard way he was fucking you in. "aren’t you so pretty like that?”

you barely managed to nod, overwhelmed by the pleasure his and his friend’s cocks we’re giving you. a tear escaped, making a wet trail down your cheek, falling onto theo’s bare chest. his thumb swiped over your skin, wiping it away, and enzo seemed to have caught that even from behind. a small groan left his mouth, and his grip on your hips turned bruising – he had always had a weakness for seeing pretty girls cry.

"and she’s crying, fuck— she’s a goddamn jewel," he gritted out, his tongue sticking out to lick at his bottom lip, short, panting breaths drying it out in an instant. "can i see?”

theo smirked, though somehow it looked even in this situation, and tugged on your chin, turning your face to the side.

"my beautiful girl… isn’t that right, amore?" he drawled as his hips thrusted up in a particularly strong move. you loudly gasped, and a flow of tears erupted from your widened eyes, streaming down your flushed face.

the boys groaned in unison, impossibly aroused by the sight. theo couldn’t hold back from capturing your lips with his in a sloppy kiss, while lorenzo tried hard not to cum right on the spot. he knew theo wouldn’t take it lightly, him getting release before his girlfriend could, so he had to compose himself, even though the sound of your desperate sobs was bringing him closer and closer to the much anticipated end. though with the way you were clenching around their needy, throbbing cocks, neither of them would have to wait for long.

[driverlando]

✧.* TOTALLY US

synopsis - sometimes sex isn’t all sunshine and flowers, you and Oscar know that better then anyone else

before you continue: this contains smut so minors dni!! if you enjoy pls do give it a reblog, it means a lot to us writers :)

You never thought a quiet evening in could turn so hilariously chaotic, but here you were, tangled up with Oscar on your bed, the two of you giggling uncontrollably between heated kisses.

It had started innocently enough; a quiet dinner, a shared bottle of wine, conversations that flowed effortlessly and a movie neither of you had paid much attention to. Now, with the credits long since rolled, you were a tangled mess of limbs, caught somewhere between passion and laughter.

Oscar’s fingers traced lazy circles on your arm, sending shivers down your spine. You turned to face him, your heart skipping a beat at the playful glint in his eyes.

“Want to watch another one?” you asked, though your voice was heavy with a different kind of anticipation.

Oscar smirked. “I have a better idea.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that made your toes curl. You responded eagerly, hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, his hands roaming your body with increasing urgency.

“Bedroom?” he murmured against your lips, his breath hot on your skin.

“Yes,” you managed to reply, your voice breathless with desire.

You barely made it to the bedroom, shedding clothes along the way, leaving a trail of discarded garments that marked your path. By the time you reached the bed, you were both down to your underwear, the air between you electric with anticipation.

Oscar’s hands were everywhere, exploring your body with a mix of tenderness and urgency. He pushed you gently onto the bed, hovering over you, his eyes dark with desire.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice husky.

You felt a flush of heat spread across your skin, your body responding to his words and touch. He kissed you again, deep and passionate, before moving to your neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire down your throat and across your collarbone.

His hands found the clasp of your bra, and with a deft flick, he tried to undo it. He fumbled for a moment, making you giggle against his mouth.

“Need some help?” you teased.

“I got it,” he insisted, though his fingers were still struggling. After a few more seconds of awkward fumbling, he finally managed to unclasp it, and you laughed together as he tossed it aside.

“Stupid thing” he murmured before moving his mouth lower, his lips and tongue teasing your nipples until you were squirming beneath him. You could feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, and you reached for him, eager to feel him fully.

He responded by slipping his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, slowly sliding them down your legs and discarding them. He paused to shed his own remaining clothes, and then he was back, his body pressing against yours, the heat between you almost unbearable.

Oscar’s hand slipped between your thighs, fingers finding your most sensitive spot. You gasped, your hips arching into his touch. He teased you, drawing out your pleasure until you were begging for more.

“Please, Osc,” you moaned, your voice trembling with need.

“Patience,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “I want to make this last.”

His fingers continued their slow, torturous rhythm, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Just as you were about to tip over, you felt a sharp pain in your leg. A cramp, you realised. You winced, trying to stretch it out without breaking the mood, but Oscar noticed immediately.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, concern etched on his face, replacing the lust in his eyes.

“Cramp,” you winced, trying to stretch out your leg. “Just a cramp.”

Oscar chuckled, massaging your calf gently. “We really know how to set the mood, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, we’re a real romantic comedy.”

With the cramp finally easing, you resumed where you left off. Oscar’s fingers brought you back to the edge, his touch expert and teasing. You were so close, your body trembling with anticipation.

He moved over you again, positioning himself between your legs. As he pushed into you, you both gasped at the sensation, the connection electric. He started to move, slow and deliberate at first, each thrust building the intensity.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper, your nails digging into his back. The pleasure was overwhelming, each movement pushing you closer to the edge.

“God, you feel amazing,” Oscar groaned, his voice husky with desire.

“So do you,” you managed to reply, your fingers tracing the muscles of his back.

Oscar began to pick up the pace, the rhythm quickening, the intensity building with each movement. You felt the tension coiling in your belly, your body trembling with anticipation.

And then, in a sudden shift, Oscar’s elbow slipped and accidentally jabbed you in the ribs. You yelped, more surprised than hurt, and he immediately froze.

“Sorry!” he exclaimed, eyes wide with concern.

You laughed, the absurdity of the moment breaking the tension, your giggles turning into full blown laughter. “It’s okay. We’re really on a roll tonight, huh? It’s been a disaster”

Oscar grinned, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and urgent. “Only a little,” he murmured against your mouth. “But we can make it work.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before adjusting the two of you to find a better position.

This time, when he entered you again, it was with a slow, deliberate thrust that made you both moan with pleasure. The rhythm resumed, the connection between you growing stronger with each movement.

You felt the tension build again, your body arching into his. Just as you were on the brink, his phone rang. You both froze, staring at the offending device.

“Ignore it,” you pleaded, your voice shaky.

Oscar glanced at the screen. “It’s my mom.”

“Seriously?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. “Can this night get any more ridiculous?”

He silenced the phone, tossing it aside. “She’s just going to have to wait.”

You laughed, pulling him back to you. “Good choice.”

Oscar’s lips met yours again, and the fire between you reignited instantly. His hands roamed your body, each touch reigniting the pleasure that had been building. He moved inside you again, the sensation even more intense than before.

You moved together, the rhythm perfect, the pleasure building rapidly. This time, there were no more interruptions. Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, laughter giving way to gasps and moans. You finally reached that elusive peak together, the pleasure washing over you both in waves.

Afterward, you lay tangled in each other’s arms, hearts racing and smiles plastered on your faces.

“That was…something,” Oscar said, his voice filled with a mix of satisfaction and amusement.

“Yeah,” you agreed, snuggling closer. “Definitely something. And totally us.”

He kissed the top of your head, a contented sigh escaping his lips. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And neither would you.

[prkhaven]

warnings: smut minors do not interact, thigh fucking, messy, consensual recording, happy birthday sunghoon <3

─────────୨ৎ──────────

Sunghoon didn’t believe any birthday present would’ve been able to top the antique digital camera he’s been talking nonstop about that you got him.

Yet, you gave him an ultimatum that involved his brand new camera and his life long obsession of thigh fucking.

“F-Fuck” Sunghoon whimps, his hands shaking as he tried to properly capture the tip of his cock peeking through your squished thighs and the view of your panties blocking your soaking wet core

He jerks his head from staring through the camera to the actual thing in front of him. You laid flat on his bed, your legs held high in the air by his unoccupied hand while you squished as much as your thighs together as you possibly can to tightly wrap around him.

Pushing himself further between your thighs, he saw himself peeking out more and more to the point where his cock was hovering over the bottom of your stomach that made his insides twist.

Placing your legs onto his shoulder, his arm wrapped around until his hand reached where he was resting. The faint twitches of his cock hit your stomach making you jump at the wet splotch that hit you.

The eyes that have been trained on him moved down and you see Sunghoon’s raging tip glistening in the poor lighting. Your heart dropped then fluttered seeing how deep he would’ve be inside of you if he dared.

In awestruck Sunghoon couldn’t get enough of it. The precum that leaked out rubbed against your bare stomach grew more frequent. His shaky hands were barely able to still to get the sight but it person—physically was far better than through the screen.

Sunghoon caught your eyes with a shaky breath. Your lips slightly parted, your chest rising with each pant and then you gave a nod of your head, “Go” Your words parted through your mouth in a single breath

His heart hammered out of his chest before slightly retracting himself, a silent gasp falling from his mouth before sliding through the confinement of your thighs squished for him.

He grunted at the feel, you squished around him as his thrust started off weak. He’s watched all the videos imagined possible but it doesn’t compare to the actual thing. “Sunghoon” You breathlessly called out his name making him snap out his thoughts to focus on you

His hand drifted off to the side capturing your bed sheets that differs from his own. He shudder once he directed his camera at hand to focus on his cock slipping through, his focus zeroed in at the static quality representing its old value.

It captured your panties perfectly in view but it couldn’t capture the beauty of the wetness of it sticking to your pussy outlining your folds.

His thrust stuttered once he realized of what’s laying right beneath his cock. Through your flushes lips, you released breathless held back moans feeling the graze of his cock slipping against your clothed self. Your hands reached out to grab anything in its way.

It was rather shameless that he was so close. Yet, he continued chasing the high. His pelvis thrust harshly against your covered bottom, his teeth dragging on his bottom lip while his eyes trained in between real life and on camera.

Noticing your hold loosening, he harshly pushed your thighs together in support, “C’mon just a little more for me” Sunghoon grunted as he slammed his hips harder

“Sunghoon” You called out his name again in a pant as you watched his tip peeking through

The feel of him slipping easily through the small crack he created for himself, the arousal sticking to you more when he glided over, the stimulation to your clit making your shiver at the sensation.

Sounds of skin on skin filled the room that you were sure that even the camera was able to pick up all that was bouncing off his walls. His low grunts flowed through gritted teeth watching how his cock slipped through with ease.

“S-shit” He grunted under his breath, “Thank you. Thank you” His thrust becoming erratic as his stomach tightened and without last slam he stilled his movements

A grumble rumbled out of his chest and past his lips as the spurts of cum spurt out landing onto your stomach, crumbled up shirt. He pushed himself in and out, milking himself dry through your thighs.

His breath shudders as the stimulation seeps through his fuzzy brain and he feels his the static sense running through him. In his eyes, he weakly looked through the camera and saw the base over your panties, splotches of him accumulated.

The heavy breaths stopped as the air got caught in his throat. The camera still recording, he brought your legs down from his shoulder. His hand immediately extended to the sight—more like mess he left on you.

His ears were muffled, in the distant he can hear you calling out to him. “Hello? Sunghoon, are you okay?” You tried to call him multiple times to garner his attention but nothing worked

He raised his eyes to capture yours. “I have one more birthday wish” He heavily panted, gulping trying to collect himself as he trailed down to the little crevice filled with his cum

His cock twitch in between, he couldn’t stop at this alone. He softly tugged at your underwear to the side, the clumps of cum seeped through and fell down to your bare folds and his tugging fingers.

You gasped at the sticky feel and shot a look up to see the haze expression he wore. His lips tugged upwards into a soft smile.

“Can we make a movie?”

——

[prettycoolgirl]

adicto

pairing: bfd!declan o'hara x f!reader.

summary: declan, your best friends dad can't wait any longer to be alone with you

a/n: small fic to celebrate that i finished my finals, i just watched rivals too and guys i loveeee declan, but this was a small one shot feel free to send me concepts! & requests are open as always, oh and breeding kink with declan fic coming soon!

warnings: 18+. smut. cheating. age gap once again (reader is in her 20s). fingering. dirty talk. definitely more warnings…

word count: 1k

as the party flowed, you became more drawn to declan once again. It felt so wrong to be eyeing him especially because his family and friends were present all around. yet you also couldn’t help but notice how he looked at you, affection and desire plastered over him. taggie, your best friend was busy chatting with rupert, completely oblivious to the fact that you’ve been sleeping with her father for the past couple of months. 

night slowly creeping in, the tension between you and declan had eventually had enough. he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "meet me in the bathroom in five minutes. i need you, alone." his voice was low and commanding, leaving no room for you to even argue. with a nod, you eventually managed to slip away from your conversation with lizzie, heart racing with anticipation.

you quickly slipped into the bathroom, with your flushed cheeks. meanwhile, declan is already there. his presence filling the room, his voice a low whisper, "shut the door." he turns to face you, his eyes darkening possessively as he sees you. "declan, i promised taggie i'd help her finish up the pastries. i can’t be gone for too long" you whispered, biting your lip as you approached him. he reached out, hand cupping your face possessively. "we’ll be quick angel," he murmured, thumb stroking your cheek. he knew it was all wrong, that their secret affair could ruin everything.

yet he couldn't stop himself. his hand tangled in your hair, pulling you closer. "lock the door," he ordered gruffly. as the lock clicked into place, he unbuckled his belt, eyes locked on yours. "come here," he said, patting his lap.

you hesitant for a moment, heart-pounding and body betraying you. as you moved forward of its own accord. sitting directly on his lap, short dress riding up to reveal your bare thighs. 

declan groaned, hands gripping your hips tightly. "i've been bloody hard watching you all night. seeing you in this dress, christ," he muttered, hands already working on the zipper of your dress. you carefully bit your lip, trying to be quiet as he pulled the dress down your arms, leaving you just with bra and panties. he stood up, holding you in his arms, and setting you on the counter. "spread your legs,"

he instructed, his voice low and commanding. doing as what you were was told, as your legs trembled slightly. declan stepping between your thighs, his large hands hooking into your underwear. "lift up,"

"christ, you're wet," he growled, his fingers brushing against your already damp panties. "always ready for me, aren't you?" his other hand reached up to cup your breast.

declan hooking his fingers into your underwear and slowly tugging them down your legs, revealing yourself to him completely. spreading your legs wider&stepping closer. "look at me," he ordered gruffly, his fingers splaying on you. "god look at you, you're dripping,"

"so fucking tight," he muttered, running his calloused finger along your slit. "always so tight for me, aren't you? like you were made just for my cock."

he brought his finger up to his mouth, sucking your juices off his finger before pushing two inside you. quickly you let out a quiet gasp, back arching off the counter as he fingered you roughly. "love when i have you like this,"

he growled, adding a third finger and pumping them in and out of you quickly. "I can't wait to bury myself in you, and fill you up." He leaned forward, capturing your mouth in a rough kiss as he continued to finger you.

“fuck, i need you declan” you whispered.

"shh," he murmured against your lips, whilst fingers curling inside you. "not yet," he warned, straightening up and wrapping his arms around your thighs to pull your legs over his shoulders. "i need to make sure you can take me," he growled, pushing his fingers deeper.

declan with his fingers hooked inside you, stretching you out. "look down," he ordered gruffly. you peering down, watching as he fingered you open. "i want you to look at me while i stretch you out,"

"fuck, i can't, it's too much," you panted, squirming on the counter as he stretched you out. “you can” declan growled, once again slamming three fingers inside you and scissoring them open wide.

"oh god, oh god, oh god," eyes rolling back as he stretched you impossibly wide. "declan, i can’t" you whimpered, hands scrabbling at the counter.

"too bad," he snapped, fingers once again curling up inside you. "spread your legs wider," he demanded, his voice thrumming with barely contained anger. "there we go, good girl ."

"fuck, declan," you hissed, legs shaking as he forced you open. "declan, we have to hurry someone gonna suspect," you begged, voice cracking with desperation. but declan just ignored it, fingers moving faster and harder inside you.

"you should've thought about that before you bent over in this tiny dress," he growled, pulling his fingers nearly out before slamming them back in. "spread those knees wider," he commanded, pressing his thumb against your clit hard enough to make you cry out.

"declan!" you shrieked, back arching off the counter. "i-i'm going to- fuckk" you were cut off by a loud, wracking sob orgasm crashed over you, while you clenched around his fingers.

both of you trying to catch your breaths, faces inches apart, declan nuzzled into your neck. "you're absolutely perfect," he murmured. you smiled, arms wrapped around him possessively. "and yet you're still the worst," you giggled. 

declan zipped up your dress back up, and gently pulled your panties back up your thighs, adjusting them carefully. "love, are you sure you're alright to walk out like this?" he asked, eyes crinkling at the corners as you nodded, face flushed.

he helped you fix your hair, straightening your dress once more. "ready?" he murmured, his hand gently patting your thigh. "ready," you said. he watched as you took a deep breath and prepared to go back out to the party.

as you both walked through the halls with loud music blasting, declan sure to keep a discreet distance behind you, eyes never leaving your back. both soon found themselves face to face with rupert, who looked at you two with a knowing glint in his eye. "well, well, well," he chuckled, gaze flicking between you and declan.

[ashtavula]

Hello hope your doing well. Could I request maybe the housewardens receiving a love letter from the reader accidentally. Like the reader accidentally left it somewhere or sent it to them without realizing it.

I got Lilia's General Vanrouge card, so I'm doing very well right now!

Housewardens accidentally receive your love letter

Riddle:

-He gives you a smile as you leave his dorm after an afternoon study session. You'd desperately needed his help, and he had been more than willing to teach you. As Riddle returns, he notices a piece of paper on the floor where you were sitting. As he moves to pick it up, he spies his name on the page, and he begins to read what you have written.

-Riddle's face turns the loveliest shade of red as the letter states your feelings for him, and his heart races. The letter is unfinished, and it's rather clear that you didn't mean for Riddle to read it, but it's proof that you feel the same way about him. And to Riddle, that's all that matters.

-Once he's done, Riddle picks up his pen, and writes his very own letter to you, inviting you to a private tea party. As the pen flows over the page, Riddle's face flushes again. He plans on reciprocating your feelings over tea, telling you just how much he's grown to care about you. In his mind, he's confident and collected. However, when he actually confesses to you, all you see is a sweet boy with a blushing face and eager eyes as he declares his affections.

Leona:

-You certainly didn't mean to leave that love letter, but you did, and Leona found it. His tail lazily sways as he picks up the paper you dropped on his floor. He was actually going to throw it away, until he saw his name. Seeing it captures his interest, and he begins to read through what you wrote.

-Once he finishes, he flops back down onto his bed, still holding your letter. He loves you too, so a part of him is extremely pleased. However, there's a tiny part of him that wonders if you truly understand what a relationship with him would mean.

-In the end, Leona reaches the conclusion that there's no need to avoid getting into a relationship with you since your feelings are mutual. He saunters towards you, with a lazy grin on his face. He shoves your letter in your face, and he laughs when you realize what it is. Just as you open your mouth to speak, Leona yanks you close and kisses you, silently reciprocating your love.

Azul:

-Azul pushes his glasses up as Floyd careens into his office, with Jade trailing in behind him. Any questions die in his throat as Floyd shoves a piece of paper at him with a sharp grin and an insistence that Azul read the letter immediately. Azul sighs, and begins to read, only to gape like a fish out of water.

-He initially has a hard time believing that you actually wrote those lovely things about him, of all people. Old insecurities bubble up to the surface, and they nearly choke out the warmth of his feelings. But as he pores over the letter again and again, your words start to reach him. Hope begins to blossom, and Azul sucks in a shaky breath as he deliberates over how to respond.

-Despite his nervousness, it doesn't take long for him to invite you to a private dinner at Mostro Lounge. When you arrive, you're greeted by the sight of a candlelit dinner. The table is perfectly arranged with all of your favorites, and Azul is a perfect gentleman. But you can tell he's nervous. He keeps fidgeting, and there's a crease in his brow. As you finish eating, Azul clears his throat, and confesses to you. He tells you about the letter, and softly tells you that he loves you too.

Kalim:

-When Kalim spots a piece of paper fall out of your bag, his immediate thought is to return it to you. However, you're gone by the time he picks it up. And he knows it's wrong to look at people's things without permission, but he's curious. His eyes start to sparkle as he reads, and he has to refrain from cheering out of joy.

-You love him back! Kalim practically swoons as he reads the letter again, a bright smile spreading across his face. Already, visions of a happy future with you are playing in his mind. He picks up his phone to call you, but he stops himself. He wants things to be perfect, and so, he calls Jamil instead.

-Kalim is always throwing parties for one reason or another, so you're not surprised by his seemingly impromptu invitation. You enjoy the party, and you happily accept a ride on Kalim's magic carpet. As the stars twinkle above you, Kalim tells you everything. As the two of you embrace, Kalim's eyes fill with overjoyed tears.

Vil:

-Vil's delicate brows pinch in confusion when he sees a letter on his vanity. The confusion only grows when he sees a note from Rook sitting neatly on top of the letter, proclaiming that he'd "found something rather interesting." Vil sighs, and picks up the letter, only for his lips to part in a silent gasp as he reads.

-This is clearly just a rough draft, with crossed out words and notes in the margins, but your feelings come through loud and clear. With every clumsy phrase and every bit of awkward wording, you tell him that you love him. Vil lets out a delighted sigh as he sets the letter down, gently tucking it away for safekeeping.

-It takes Vil a while to decide on the best method for telling you about his own feelings, ultimately deciding that you deserve nothing less than his best. And so, he pulls out all the stops. Throughout the course of a day, he takes you out shopping, books massages, and takes you to all of the best places on the island. It culminates in a wonderful dinner, where he confesses his true feelings for you.

Idia:

-A ping on his monitor catches Idia's attention, and he clicks on the notification. It's an email from you, and he internally groans a bit. He's really hoping that you're not trying to invite him out to something. However, his grumbles turn into a high pitched shriek as he actually reads what's on his screen.

-The email was clearly sent by accident, as it's an unfinished draft, but Idia's poor heart still leaps into his throat as he reads. You love him? Idia scrambles away, muttering to himself as he runs his hands through his pink hair, trying to process what he just saw. Sure, he loves you too, but he never actually thought that his crush would be reciprocated. After a long while of pacing, Idia decides to respond. Well, he tries to. Seeing your letter again just makes him feel all anxious.

-It took a bit of help from Ortho, but Idia eventually manages to hatch a plan to confess to you. He invites you over to binge watch some anime with him. Idia makes sure to have your favorite snacks, and he sits beside you as the episodes start to play. It turns out to be a romance series about a shy man who keeps trying, and failing, to get his crush to notice his feelings. As the characters confess to each other, Idia clears his throat, and awkwardly compares the two of you to the couple on the screen. Luckily, you get the hint, and Idia gets to experience the same happy ending.

Malleus:

-Malleus didn't mean to pry, but his curiosity was piqued when he spied a folded piece of paper lodged in the branches of a bush outside of Ramshackle. Malleus figures that the wind must have blown it there. A quick glance reveals that it's your handwriting on the page, but he doesn't think much about it until he sees the word, "love." He frowns, and reads the letter from start to finish.

-The letter proclaims your amorous feelings for someone who's name isn't stated. The edges of the paper crinkle in his grip as jealousy begins to burn in heart. However, the flames of envy are quickly snuffed out when he arrives at the final line of the letter, a simple, "I love you, Malleus." Oh. Malleus cradles the letter to his chest, a smile spreading across his face.

-Malleus doesn't hesitate to let you know just how he feels, even though it's late. He teleports into your bedroom, and he leans down to kiss your forehead. As you're roused from your slumber, you find him towering over you with a broad grin and your letter still clutched in his hands. He tells you that he feels the same way, making grand declarations of everlasting love. It would be romantic, if you weren't in your pajamas and it wasn't 2 am.

[tyangdoll]

jongseob filming you sucking his and shota's dick yum

that's all thank uu

yummy… -> warning for slight mxm action… don’t like? don’t read!

jongseob moaned softly as you took him in your mouth, his free hand running through your hair gently. “fuuuck… that feels so good…” his breathing hitched as you started to move your head faster, his hips bucking up slightly against your face. “keep going… just like that… shiiit… sho, she’s so good at this…” the camera captured every detail from your lips stretched around his cock to the precum dripping from his tip to your hand pumping shota’s cock. the sounds of your combined moans filled the room, only increasing the arousal flowing between the three of you.

you continued to switch between sucking and jerking their cocks, with both boys moaning and clearly enjoying the view. “fuck yes, pretty… take sho’s cock deeper…” he zooms in, every detail of your tongue swirling around his length while obeying jongseob’s words, shota moaning loudly at you deepthroating him. “never knew you could be such a slut like this… taking two cocks at once…” jongseob’s hands roughly squeeze your tits, groping them which had you whimpering around shota.

jongseob then ran his fingers along shota’s chest, feeling him squirm under his touch. “look at that, so sensitive…” he chuckled, angling the camera to show shota’s flushed cheeks, the warmth spreading across his face visible, the camera picking up his hitched breaths. he then panned it back down to you, your eyes looking right up at the camera. “you’d both make pretty pornstars for sure…”

────────────────────────

pls comment/rb/send asks with feedback!! this rlly encourages me ♡