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lewisvinga · 2 months

Text

zhou couture | zhou guanyu x fem! reader

summary; as a fashion design student, y/n is eternally grateful that her boyfriend is as into fashion as she is

fc; threemillion

warnings; ?

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1

notes; requested !

masterlist !

liked by zhouguanyu24, lilymhe, and others !

yourusername: made this 2 piece set this week in class 🪷🪷

tagged; zhouguanyu24

zhouguanyu24: wow😍😍😍😍

zhouguanyu24: always so talented ❤️❤️

yourusername: helps when my boyfriend has amazing fashion taste💓

username: the way she tags him in every post and he’s always first to comment ☹️☹️☹️

username: that man is DOWN BAD but i don’t blame him😭😭

username: the colorrrr😫

username: she’s so prettyyy😫

username: ugh that set is everything, can’t wait for u to finally release ur own line 😣😣

lilymhe: OMG GORGEOUS SOOO GORGEOUS😫😫

yourusername: made u n the girlies matching ones from ur old measurements btw, be ready to match

francisca.cgomes: y/n , you have done it again!

username: u really can’t hate her , she’s an icon!

yourusername uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; couple of outfits styled by my fashionista boyfriend, zhouguanyu24🖤] [caption 2; 3 yr anniversary ] [caption 3; my personal favorite]

[caption 4; date night in spain fit] [caption 5; this gorgeous black lace dress he got me for my birthday ] [caption 6; st tropez day 2 & bought me a dress from the boutiques ]

liked by zhouguanyu24, francisca.cgomes, and others

yourusername: i call it ‘zhou couture’

tagged; zhouguanyu24

zhouguanyu24: i love you❤️

yourusername: i love you🫶

username: omg zhou couture instead of haute couture, I LOVE IT

username: ugh the outfits 😍😍😍

username: charles needs to take notes bc his fashion is not it !

username: LMFAOOO

username: couple goals like actually

username: my parents 😣

username: he’s so bf

francisca.cgomes: oh the first outfit 😍 always so gorgeous <3

yourusername: ilysm kikaaaa🫂🫂

username: y/n being a fashion student dating one of the most fashionable drivers is everything to me😫

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 scenario #formula one scenarios #f1 imagine #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #formula one social media au #zhou guanyu scenarios #zhou guanyu x reader #zhou guanyu smau

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bratzforchris · 2 months

Note

hi! I’d love to see johnnie fluff w/ reader just cuddling him and admiring his tattoos?? please and thank you 🙏 🖤

Coloring Book

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ

Summary: In which you treat Johnnie and his tattoos like your own personal coloring book<3

Pairing: Johnnie x gender neutral reader (i don't think there's any fem terms in here, but please let me know if i'm mistaken!)

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 684

A/N: WHEN will i have my own personal johnnie guilbert??

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ

“It’s so wet out,” You groaned, peeking through the blinds of your and Johnnie’s living room. “I’m bored.” You huffed, flopping on the couch beside your boyfriend dramatically.

“You’re like a puppy.” Johnnie mumbled, not taking his eyes off his phone.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, playfully raising your eyebrow.

“You can’t stay still.”

“I wanna do something.” You pouted.

You couldn’t stand not having anything to do. Whereas Johnnie was perfectly content to hang out inside all day and engage in his hobbies, you preferred to be out and about, seeking out new experiences. In a rare turn of events, Johnnie had no filming and no editing to get done this weekend, and you didn’t have to work. Unfortunately though, Los Angeles had decided to torment you with a downpour of rain and chilly wind.

“C’mere,” Johnnie put his phone down and opened his arms for you to cuddle. “I love you.” he hummed once you were in his arms, kissing your head.

You snuggled into his chest, whispering back soft words of love. You figured that you might as well try to nap while Johnnie was holding you; maybe it would help pass the time. As you closed your eyes and tried to rest, images of things to do while stuck in the house floated through your mind until you suddenly shot up.

“Be right back.” You giggled, hopping off his lap and padding towards your office.

Johnnie shook his head with a soft laugh, wondering what in the world you were up to. You quickly returned, brandishing a large pack of Crayola markers. Your boyfriend looked at you curiously, seeing as how you weren’t holding any paper.

“Can I color in your tattoos?” You asked, straddling Johnnie’s lap and looking up at him with big puppy eyes.

“So that’s what you wanted to do?” Johnnie chuckled, squeezing your hips with a smile. “Sure baby, why not.” he told you, planting a soft kiss on your lips.

You let out an excited squeal as Johnnie pulled his shirt off. Your boyfriend was literally one big coloring book and your mind raced with possibilities of what you could do. You poked your tongue out in concentration as you selected a pink marker, beginning to decorate his ‘I’m not perfect’ tattoo with flowers and vines designs. Johnnie smiled as the marker glided across his skin, but that wasn’t what he was focusing on. Instead, he was admiring your beautiful face that was etched with concentration as you focused on making your lines neat.

You two stayed like that for quite a while. The rain pattering on the roof and the feeling of you coloring on his skin and leaving soft kisses on him was lulling Johnnie to sleep. Every now and then, you would whisper out how much you admired a certain tattoo. Being a big fan of both The Cure and of nature, your favorites were his Robert Smith tattoo and his tree tattoos. You adored all of Johnnie’s tattoos, though. They made him unique, telling you the story of his life without words. Not only that, but they also offered you quite a bit of entertainment on days like today.

“All done!” You exclaimed about an hour later.

Johnnie was pulled out of his sleepy trance, a smile on his face. “Am I allowed to look?”

You nodded, dragging him to the bathroom and flicking on the light. Your boyfriend stood in front of the mirror, admiring the beautiful colors you had added to his tattoos. Johnnie wasn’t a big fan of tattoos with color, but you had made them beautiful.

“I love it, baby.” he giggled, pecking your lips.

I love you,” You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Thank you for being a wonderful coloring book.”

Johnnie smiled, picking you up and kissing you again. He loved you with all his heart, and that was definitely shown by the way he paraded around the house shirtless for the rest of the day, showing off the color you had added both to his skin and to his life.

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theabyssal · 6 months

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Yes, Death is still alive and kicking, and I am as well! 💀

I know this is rather unexpected, especially after the lack of any updates this last year, but I'm back and I owe you all an apology.

Life kicked me in the butt while mocking me that I should still be grateful to live another day. Shit happened and I'm not proud of how I acted. I took a step back from the Abyssal to heal, but I neglected my lovely readers while doing so. I'm not one to openly mope, but I received a lot of concerned asks and I thank every single one of you for still caring about my sorry behind 😊

Now, let's focus on the good part of this whole mess. I've got some news!!

Firstly, The Abyssal went through a considerable rewrite, nothing major but a few passages were added and other pieces were slightly changed. You guys will notice the difference, I hope.

Subscribe to my Patreon if you are interested in the early access, down below are all the release dates and their respective tiers:

Patreon Tier 5 early access: november 1

Patreon Tier 4 early access: november 4

Patreon Tier 3 early access: november 8

Patreon Tier 2 early access: november 12

Patreon Tier 1 early access: november 16

Public release: november 18

PATREON DEMO

Down below you will find some of the changes I made:

Sol is now gender selectable! Now only Wulfric is gender-locked, while the rest of the ROs are all gender-selectable;

Friend!crush Sol (friends to lovers) and Enemy!crush Sol (enemies to lovers). Romancing choices are marked with a 🖤;

Rescue—adopt?—a little kid;

Two interludes were added.

Choose to wear a mask or a veil, and pick between many designs of masks for your Death to wear;

Second part of Chapter 2 is focused on world-building, lore, and Éoin's life as a mortician.

Secondly, a list of small things that I added:

Around 15k words were added to chapter one and 12k to chapter two. The demo now has a total of 100k words;

Now the choices that will unlock the madness and fury domain are labeled.

Added time and location to each memory jump to better situate the reader.

Make sure to check the show stats option! I'll be adding details about the characters and the world of Hylaria there with every update.

Much more.

All in all this is it for this month. Any further changes I'll be sure to tell you guys!!

#patreon demo #if update #demo update #the abyssal #if demo #if wip #if game #theabyssal #patreon

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peachesofteal · 8 months

Note

Very curious about the aftermath of darling having to explain why they lied about taking the suppressants— would they refuse to say anything? Or during their heat would Simon & Johnny contact their doctor for something— maybe if darlings fever was higher than it should be— and found out a bit what happened to them when they were younger because they’re their medical proxy.

🖤

Takes place after this / thank you to @ghostlythunderbird for her help!

18+ MDNI / dead disco omegaverse au / cock warming / mature themes

Simon leans over the tub, fingers swirling through the extremely hot water while you whimper and gasp against Johnny’s chest, mouth half open, nearly asleep astride his lap.

“Alpha.” You whine when he shifts, face burrowed against his skin.

“I’ve got ye, darling. I’m here.” He smoothes a hand up and down your back, soothing you, all while trying not to grit his teeth too loud.

He’s teetering on the edge, cock hard again inside your body, recovered from earlier when he finally took you as Simon soaped you clean.

Simon spreads his fingers across the the small of your back, dripping water droplets up your spine before twisting a bunch of your hair into a clip to keep it from getting wet. You’d be mad if you weren’t out of your mind in a heat haze, and your hair got wet outside of a wash day.

“Johnny.” You whimper, and the Alpha’s hand disappears beneath the water in response, patting your hip and pressing his lips to gland to settle you.

Simon really wants to pluck you from the tub and spread you to wide on the bathroom floor. He wants to spread towels out to prevent your skin from being chilled and then lay you on your back, wants to fuck his come deep into your womb until you’re gushing with it, until it takes. It’s the same way Johnny felt, when you were sitting on his lap, bouncing with your desperation, crying in need for him to fill you.

If he was in a rut, no one would have even made it to the bathroom. He would have already bred you, already fucked you full of his seed and plugged it.

But he’s not. And he’s not the one in the tub right now either, so he has to attend to the other things. Just as important, not as much fun.

“A-alpha please.” You gasp, eyes wide and teary and Johnny nods, pressing a thumb against your bottom lip, and starting back up a deep, harmonic purr in hopes of getting you back to sleep.

“I know, I know.” He coos.

Simon bends, swallowing Johnny’s lips, kissing him lazily, indulging in his pants and gasps as you tighten around him. You push at Simon’s shoulder, face screwed up in irritation, and he chuckles softly before kissing you sweetly, long and deep until you’re whining for him to get in the tub behind you.

Now that they’ve started, you’ll only stop for food and rest, and getting you to eat and drink will be a challenge in itself. Everything is shifting, your unease, distress has faded away to your instincts, your drive to be bred by them, and they’ll spend the rest of your heat giving you everything you need, soothing you and praising you, comforting you and making you feel safe, satisfying and taking care of you. They’ll flood you with their DNA, their hormones, their pheromones, completing the cycle over and over until it passes.

Simon relishes it. He loves caring for you with or without your designation, loves the idea of growing their family, of him or Johnny fucking you full of themselves until you’re swelling with their baby. It’s instinct, and primal, but so, so much more with you. You’re not just some Omega… you’re theirs. Their darling. You’ve always been theirs.

Which is why he can’t stay in the bathroom, even though he dearly wants to.

Your fingers latch onto his forearm when he pulls away, and he folds you farther into Johnny, until his mouth is above your gland and he’s licking, distracting you enough for Simon to slip away.

“Her last prescription was written six months ago, but it was a lower dosage, preparing for the weaning off time frame.” The kitchen knife slows to a stop in the middle of the apple he’s cutting, and he places it down to hold the phone firmly in his hand.

“Sorry, you said… six months?” His heart thunders in his ears. Six months? Half a year? He struggles to get a handle on the ache in his soul when he thinks about you struggling for so long, without them even knowing.

The doctor sighs.

“She was advised to inform you, to see if your work schedules could be adjusted for her heats. After being on suppressants for so long, they were anticipated to be more intense, more debilitating.”

“I- I don’t understand. Why did she come off the suppressants?”

“The long term use of suppressants have had negative impacts on her body… did she not tell you?” His stomach twists.

“No, she… failed to mention. We came home to her in the beginning of a heat but, she wasn’t herself. She was self soothing, we’re very concerned.”

“As you’re aware, yourself and Mr. MacTavish are listed as medical proxy… I can email an encrypted chart with her medical information if you’d like.” He grimaces. You’re going to be so pissed, so bloody heated when you come out of this and realize they’ve trampled all over your boundaries in this way but what else can he do?

“Alright, that will work fine.”

He reads the file alone. He doesn’t think it appropriate, to read it with Johnny while you’re practically attached to him, even though that makes him feel guilty too.

But he can’t run the risk of upsetting you, not when they finally got you settled and comfortable.

So, he opens it on the couch. It’s a massive file, as he expects most Omega’s are, considering their unique genetic needs, complicated endocrine systems and of course, reproductive health needs.

He finds the chart notes from your appointment, six months ago.

“-advised pt that stopping suppressants should be considered due to impact in pheromone production and reproductive health. Advised pt that continued long term use may have permanent effects. Pt stated she understood, agreed to start next month with a lower dosage to wean off.”

He scrolls, to a visit from last year. It’s fairly standard, mentions of blood work and labs, appropriate levels and other medical jargon, but something sticks out.

“-pt inquired if it was possible to successfully bite and bond without a heat. Informed pt it was not advised.”

Why were you asking about bites? You’d never expressed interest in that to them before… you had always told them you were happy the way things were. That you didn’t need a bond to be theirs, just like you didn’t need a heat. He’s still frowning when a note from your visit three years ago jars him.

“-pt advised she feels she’s in a safe, healthy relationship, and would consider coming off suppressants. Previous feral state symptoms have seemed to completely dissipate. Pt seems happy and very healthy. I advised I feel it would be safe if she did come off her suppressants if she chose.”

Feral? Feral state?

“Oh, darling.” He murmurs. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

He scrolls farther, eyes scanning through years and years of visits, going much farther back since they’ve known you, until he finds an intake form from a hospital, when you only 16 years old.

His heart stops in his chest.

“-female Omega brought in with the group who was rescued from the trafficking ring. Fluctuates between catatonia and feral state. No bites or bonds, gland intact. Unable to verbalize her name, or memories. Started on sedative drip until specialist arrives.”

#peaches asks #peaches writes #dead disco omegaverse au #ghost x soap x reader

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naeverse · 5 months

Text

The Black Rose

🖤 staring: Tattoo Artist Miguel O’Hara x female reader

◽preview:

“Let me taste what this pussy of yours is like and then I'll tattoo that rose on your gorgeous ass.”

🖤 summary:

At The Bloody Inks, the renowned Nueva York tattoo parlor, you meet the skilled, stone-cold and attractive tattoo artist, Miguel O’Hara. Seeking a tantalizing tattoo for your rear end, Miguel isn’t hesitant to get what he wants, especially if it’s a doll like you.

◽tw/cw: Butt Tattoo, Cunninglingus, Dirty Talk, Face-Sitting, Lip piercings Miguel, Needles mentioned, Oral sex, Semi-public, Tattooed Miguel, etc…

🖤 Pet names: Cariño (Darling), Muñeca (Doll), Bebé (Baby)

◽Rating: 18+ explicit I SMUT I

🖤 Word Count: Around 9.6K

(I do not own any of the fanart or photos used! All credit goes to the original artist!)

You were used to getting tattoos, so what made this time any different?

You found yourself pondering that very question repeatedly, as you approached the renowned Nueva York tattoo parlor, 'Bloody Inks.'

Since the age of 18, you've adorned your body with small pieces of inked art, from your ankles to your shoulders. Despite your familiarity with tattoos, today marked a departure from the norm as you contemplated getting a substantial artwork for the first time.

But that wasn't what made you nervous…

It was where you were getting it.

You had a little bet with your friends about your next tattoo, and to your dismay, the idea of a butt tattoo became the central topic.

Secretly desiring one, you were always hesitant due to fears of pain and discomfort on such elastic tissue, the thought of undressing completely from the waist down only added to the nerves.

Yet, here you were, opening the door to the notorious shop…

A bell rang at your arrival along with the crackle of a searing guitar and thunderous drumbeats playing from a speaker. The music’s furious tempo of punk music overwhelmed your senses as you were hit with the smell of ink and antiseptic, and a hint of sandalwood. You stepped inside, your black tennis shoes, on wooden scuffed floors as your eyes roamed the dimly lit lobby before you.

A black leather sofa sat in one corner, a front desk before you, and a few sculptures and decorations covered the worn wooden floors. Despite everything inside, your attention was instantly captured by the gallery of designs that covered the black-brick walls of the tattoo parlor.

There were many sketches and finished pieces that were put on display, an assortment of vibrant colors and intricate details bringing life to the lobby. Mythical creatures, mandalas, floral designs, phrases, and abstract patterns decorated the walls, each one telling a different story and waiting to be chosen and etched onto willing skin.

The counter was empty when you arrived, a soft, dim glow of light hanging from chains on the ceiling cast an amber hue throughout the lobby. You stood patiently at the black desk, fiddling nervously with the bottom of your white t-shirt and pondering if you should go through with this tattoo…

“Oy! We have a customer!”

The loud outburst from a male with a British accent cut through the rather quiet lobby, making you jump. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest whilst you overheard the small conversation between the British male and who sounded like a female coming from further in the tattoo parlor.

“Gwendy, love, I’ve been dealing with the past few customers for a while now. Why not deal with this one, hmm?” The girl responded with a scoff.

“Hobie, you know you haven’t done shit.”

“Ah…you got me there love.” The British guy said with a chuckle. “Well, stop playing around and help the customer.” The girl laughed as you soon heard the sound of heavy footfalls becoming louder and louder. It wasn’t long before the identity of the British male was revealed to you.

The black curtains that separated the lobby from the back of the tattoo parlor opened to unveil an ebony guy with thick black hair and piercings. His hair was styled chaotically on his head, but you had a feeling it was purposeful with the way he carried himself. He had unmistakable confidence and not a care in the world for anyone. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his black jeans, a black t-shirt covering his lean body as his combat boots thudded against the wooden floors.

He came behind the counter, turning his dark brown eyes upon you, instantly making you a little intimidated. “Aye, name’s Hobie, and welcome to the Bloody Inks. Are you here for a piercing or a tattoo, love?” He asked, his slender fingers locating a pen and notepad from his side of the desk.

You chewed your inner cheek, drumming your thumb against the handle of your small bag.

This was your last chance to back out…

To decide to go on with life without the tattoo on your rear or to face your fears and get the beautiful inking.

It wasn’t long before you already had your answer, giving the male before you a small smile. “I’m here for a tattoo.” You said bringing a smile to Hobie’s pierced lips. He glanced down at the notepad, his pen gliding across the page. “Can I see some ID?”

You were used to this question and already had your ID in hand, placing it into the ebony male’s palm. He barely glanced at it before returning it to you. “Nice, have you been to Bloody Ink’s before?” He asked, causing you to bite your lip nervously.

“No, this is my first time.” He looked up at you, his pierced lips pulled back into a smirk. “Ah, great! I’ll make sure the big boss does your tattoo then.” He said with a smile, but you couldn’t help becoming a little more anxious. The boss was going to be the one giving you your tattoo.

The tattoo on your bottom…

You gulped, hoping the male wasn’t scary-looking or a perv.

“O-kay!” Hobie exclaimed, pulling you from your thoughts as he finished writing. “Now, I’ll give you a book to look over the designs whilst the boss finishes up in the back,” Hobie said, pulling a black, hardcover album from under the desk, placing it into your hand, then motioning for you to take a seat on the sofa.

You followed along to his instructions, taking the black book in your hands and moving over to the leather couch where you sat down. Hobie then left, going behind the black curtains and drawing them close once more.

To pass the time and decide upon your tattoo, you look over the many designs inside the book. Each was skillfully sketched by hand and each held their own, unique form of beauty. Your eyes glazed over blazing skulls, graceful elephants, motivating quotes, to lastly land upon a beautiful flower.

You gasped, instinctively reaching out to trace a finger along the intricate lines of the sketch. You could already imagine the rose’s petals on your bottom, sprouting out in full bloom across your right, no… left cheek.

The circular pistil was visible and drawn so full of detail that it felt like it was jumping out at you. A few leaves could be seen peeking out the top of the rose as you felt like this design was for you.

Like it was drawing you in…

…

“Have you decided?”

A deep, husky voice asked inside of the quiet lobby. You jumped in your seat, eyes snapping up to see someone was occupying the counter…

But it wasn’t Hobie…

A tanned male with a muscular, large build was now present. Standing tall and broad, his physique showed proof of his dedication to the wellbeing of his body due to his swell and bulging muscles. His chiseled features were framed by a strong, defined jawline, a sharp nose, and dark smoldering eyes.

His bronze skin held tattoos that were intricately etched on his skin, each design holding a mysterious story across the backs of his hands, on his arms, and even along his chest and neck. They accentuated the contours of his muscles and added even more allure to his already magnetic presence. He placed his hands on the desk, his eyes still trained on you, his taut body dressed in a mere black t-shirt, jeans, and boots, but he made such simple clothes look like it was woven by the gods.

You didn’t know how long you’d been gawking at him in utter shock and disbelief at the magnificence before you. It wasn't until he moved once more, beckoning to you with two inked fingers that you snapped out of your trance.

You gulped, gathered up your bag and the black album, and made your way to the counter.

The closer you got, the more attractive and intimidating he became. His bushy eyebrows were drawn low over his amber eyes and his mouth, holding two ringed piercings on the opposite ends of his lower lip, were pulled into a scowl.

He looked stern, but you pondered if that was just his usual look.

“So have you decided on what piece you wanted?” He asked again, but you were still baffled by how drop-dead gorgeous he was that you almost misheard him once more. “Y-yes.” You stammered, gulping thickly, your finger still holding the page of your desired sketch. He hummed, holding his large hand out to you, motioning to the black book. You complied, placing it open into his palm, the hardcover open to the page of your tattoo choice.

It felt relieving to not have his stern eyes on you anymore, his amber orbs looking at the sketch you’ve chosen in the book. You bit your lip nervously, eyes trained on him whilst he looked over the design before he turned his gaze back up at you. “You know that’s an ass tat, right?” He bluntly asked which made heat rise in the back of your neck.

“Y-Yes, I know.” You replied, causing his eyebrows to rise for a brief second in surprise. “Well…Okay then.” He said, closing the book and holding the page with his thumb. “I’m Miguel, I’ll be your tattoo artist for today.”

Your heart dropped at his words.

You didn’t know to feel excited or nervous as hell, knowing he’d be the one touching you so intimately. “I-It’s nice to meet you.” You replied, giving him a small smile. His eyes lingered on you for a moment too long as he gave you a curt nod, a gesture that hopefully meant, 'You too.'

He motioned with his head to the back of the tattoo parlor, the entrance that was covered in black curtains. “Follow me.” He commanded in a gravelly tone. You gulped, following behind him through the black drapes to venture further into the tattoo parlor.

Instantly when you entered, the smell of ink and antiseptic became more potent, the sounds of the buzzing of the tattoo guns filled your ears along with the playful banter between the two artists from before.

“So Gwendy, you still believe just because you're in your twenties now that you can order me around?” Hobie asked the girl from across the room. She chuckled, looking away from her male client who was getting a skull tattooed onto his leg to over at Hobie. The girl had blonde, wavy hair and black piercings that covered her face. Two studs styled her eyebrow and a hooped one could be seen on her nose.

She smirked at the ebony male. “I didn’t say anything of the sort and stop calling me that. You know my name.” She laughed, eliciting a snort from Hobie. “Aye, but I like Gwendy better than Gwen.”

Miguel groaned in annoyance, looking between the two young artists. “Stop this nonsense and get to work.” He barked at Gwen and Hobie which surprised you, every muscle in his backside tensing up after his outburst. The conversation ceased to be replaced with just Miguel and your footsteps and the buzzing of the tattoo needles, but Miguel’s previous words didn’t seem to affect the two artists’ since after you both left, their conversation started up again.

Miguel grumbled under his breath, his grip on the black album tightening. You walked behind him down the hallway, his tall and broad being completely blocking your view around him. Every time you looked up, you came face to face with his muscular backside that was covered in his black T-shirt that looked to be straining against his musculature.

You clutched your purse while walking down the hallway to watch him enter a room. When you looked over, you saw a name tag on the door that read 'Miguel O'Hara.'

‘This must be his own personal tattoo room.’

You thought, your stomach clenching on cue as you followed him into the room. Your eyes instantly took in the attractive strangers’ workspace, the room you would also be spending the next hour or so in.

The tattoo room seemed to be more grand, more important than the one the two artists’ Gwen and Hobie were in. The walls were decorated, once more, with black and gray masterpieces of artwork, but these were more sci-fi and futuristic than the ones displayed in the lobby.

Spotlights hung from the ceiling carefully positioned to cast a focused radiance upon the vintage leather chair in the center of the room. The space smelled strongly of ink, antiseptic, men's cologne, and…

Smoke.

But not the typical smoke from a fire, more like from tobacco.

You couldn't help but wonder if the fine male smoked. You didn't want to assume or stereotype, but he looked like he would…

Your eyes soon graced over the main attraction of the room, the tattoo chair and station beside it. The seat had a black leather cushion that looked soft and very comfortable. It appeared, overall, brand new as if no one had hardly sat in it. A steel workstation was positioned beside the hot seat, the surface covered in an assortment of tools like a painter’s palette. The main one catching your eye was the needles and the gun.

You gulped, stepping more into the room as Miguel was rummaging through a nearby closet, the sound of metal and items clattering inside. He glanced momentarily over at the flower sketch inside of the black album before returning to get the items he needed.

You’ve learned, so far, that your tattoo artist was a rather quiet man. He barely spoke, and merely did things without providing a reason or explanation. He rummaged through the closet, next to the cabinets of a few counters and then a small chest in the room, trying to find all of the items he needed to, what you can infer, tattoo your desired choice onto your skin.

Your eyes never left him, watching his massive build transverse around the room, moving things, picking things up, putting them to the side all whilst holding an aura of unshakable coldness that dripped from his very being.

It was intimidating, yet alluring, nonetheless.

Once Miguel found the items he needed, he placed them onto the steel workstation.

With the way he was going about things, you would have thought he'd forgotten about your presence; as he was completely engrossed in what he was doing, placing a piece of stencil paper that held the floral design you wanted onto the workstation, along with black ink tubes, napkins, bottles of creams and other things.

However, you couldn’t focus…

You were highly nervous.

You stood nearby, clutching your purse whilst Miguel covered the tattoo chair with a few gray towels, before returning to organizing his workstation, and handling his tattoo gun. His thick, inked gingers deftly glided across the metal tools and inks when he finally looked up at you. You noticed his dark brown eyes roam your figure, meeting your eyes once more as he fiddled with the needles and tattoo gun.

“Which side?” He asked suddenly, placing the gun down on the workstation. You were baffled, confused about what he meant. “W-what?” You stammered, watching him take a seat on a black rolling stool. “You want your tattoo on your bottom, correct?” He asked, causing you to nod at his question. “Then which side?” He inquired once more.

You gulped, biting your lip. You pondered, remembering the artwork of the black rose from the album book and how beautiful it was, briefly deciding with yourself on which side. “O-On the left.” You replied after considering.

He hummed, nodding whilst placing a pair of black latex gloves onto his table.

“Okay, I’m going to need you to undress from the waist down and lay on your stomach.” He directed, pressing a button under the chair with his foot, causing the backing to lean back.

Your heart quickened and your stomach clenched. This was what you were worried about…

The undressing part.

It wasn’t that you had an unattractive body or weren’t familiar with the acts of intimacy, it was the thought of him, a handsome stranger having his stern gaze on your sensitive area.

How he’ll have to be studying your flesh, taking in every curve and dot whilst he worked in etching the beautiful tattoo onto your rear that made you a little reluctant.

You hesitated, clutching your purse once more. Your nervousness started to become palpable as you noticed Miguel looking up at you. He took in your tentativeness, his stern face softening at the sight. He sighed heavily, clenching his jaw as his lip piercings caught in the ceiling light.

“Are you sure about this?” His deep and rough voice filled the quiet room, his movements coming to a halt. You chewed your inner cheek, pondering his question. “Yes…I’m sure.” You replied, causing him to click his tongue. “Then what are all these nerves coming from?” He asked, crossing his arms over his broad chest. The movement seems to make his pecs more defined against the black fabric.

“I’ve seen you aren’t new to tattoos.” He said, his amber orbs probably taking in the small, tattooed quotes and patterns covering your body in minor spots before meeting your eyes once again. “So what’s the problem?”

You sighed, meeting his eyes.

Strangely, you felt like pouring your heart out to him.

Despite his coldness, you had a feeling whatever you told him would stay in this room…

“I’ve never got a huge piece done before.” You told him, which was partly the truth. Miguel hummed, his gaze on you intense. “That’s it?” You bit your lip anxiously once more, fiddling with the zipper of your purse. “N-No…I guess I’m nervous about…

Undressing.”

You uttered, biting your lip. However, Miguel seemed unfazed, only nodding in understanding.

“What’s your name?” He asked suddenly which made your eyebrows furrow. “Y-Y/N.” You hesitantly replied, bringing a tight-lipped smile to Miguel’s lips. “As you can see. Y/N, for the tattoo you’ve chosen, it’s required that you undress from the waist down.” He said, his amber eyes searching the room before landing on a decoration that sat on a counter.

He stood up, picking up the small porcelain sculpture of a gray woman’s naked body. The piece looked rather small in his massive hands.

“You see here.” He turned the female around, pointing to the left side of the gray sculpture’s plump rear end. “This entire side will need to be revealed for me to work.” He explained, lowering his finger to point underneath the left cheek. “And the tattoo would end underneath the left buttock.” He said, setting the sculpture to the side, and turning his eyes back onto you.

“For other tattoos, I wouldn’t have asked for such things and simply allowed you to keep your undergarments on and work from there.” His tone was gravelly and rough as he spoke to you. “But I'd like to be cautious, so I ask you to remove everything.” He informed you, which made you feel better about the process, but still wary.

Miguel, looked you up and down, tapping his finger against his thick thigh, noticing that you were still hesitant. “How about this,” He began, his words instantly piquing your interest. “I can turn around and allow you to undress and get into a comfortable position on the chair.” He said. “I’ll even give you a towel to cover yourself with.” He proposed with a straight face. “How does that sound?” His demeanor and gravelly tone contrasted greatly with his kind and understanding words.

You thought it over for a while before nodding at his suggestion. He rose from his seat, retrieving a black towel from the closet, and placing it onto the tattoo chair that was already covered in gray towels. He then returned to his rolling stool and turned around to face the wall. “Let me know when you are done.” He said, his voice, husky and deep.

“O-Okay.” You told him, the uncertainty, evident in your voice. Your eyes took in his muscular backside that was straining against his black t-shirt. Every bulging muscle was visible through the fabric.

You bit your lip, feeling rather odd but proceeding on.

You closed the door of his tattoo room and set your purse down on the floor. You exhaled deeply, calming yourself down before looping your fingers into the waistband of your black shorts, slowly drawing them down, your eyes trained on him.

Miguel was completely solid and unmoving. His arms crossed over his chest and his back still facing you. He was so quiet, that you could almost forget he was there.

Well, almost…

When the black fabric of your shorts was nothing but a puddle around your ankles, you stepped out of them, tossing them to the side. You gulped, standing in just your white shirt, black tennis shoes, and panties. You heaved a quiet sigh, chewing your inner cheek.

This was the hard part…

You were about to undress completely…

You exhaled deeply, reluctantly slipping your thumbs into the elastic band of your black panties, pulling them down, and exposing your sex to the tattoo room. You hissed, feeling the cool air against your core. Hastily, you removed them from your being, tossing them to the side along with your shorts.

It felt so weird standing in a foreign place with your rear completely unveiled.

You wanted nothing more than to cover up…

Your eyes shifted over to Miguels’ broad backside, still in its same position.

“Everything alright?”

You jumped at his sudden question, his voice was thunderous compared to the total quietness that had once filled the room. “Y-y-yes.” You squeaked, swiftly moving to climb onto the tattoo chair, laying on your stomach, and placing the black towel over your bare rear to conceal yourself.

After Miguel’s abrupt question, he didn’t say anything else, and neither did you, despite being ready. It took a while for you to tell the sexy, and rather intimidating tattoo artist that you were all set. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest every time you thought you were prepared to do so.

You rested your chin upon the backs of your hands, laying flat on your stomach. You heaved a sigh, feeling rather ridiculous at how scared you were.

You chose to come here, just like you chose to get this tattoo.

‘No reason to back out now.’ You thought, wetting your lips before getting the artist’s attention. “I-I’m ready.” You muttered, causing an instant creak from Miguel’s stool to be heard.

“Good.” He uttered, the sound of the wheels from his seat gliding across the black marble flooring filling the room. You soon felt his presence to your right, seeing him in your peripherals, sitting tall and large on his stool next to you on the tattoo chair. His dark brown eyes continuously glanced over at you before roaming your body, his facial features unreadable. You couldn’t tell if he was checking you out, or was merely looking at you to see if you hadn’t fainted on his chair.

“You seem…tense.” He commented in his usual dead tone. You looked over your shoulder at him to see his large hands attaching a black ink tube to his tattoo gun. His black tattoo arm sleeve was visible under the projecting light of the ceiling as his amber eyes were trained more on what he was doing rather than you.

“Y-yes. I’m still a little nervous.” You confessed, feeling your hands begin to tremble slightly. Miguel looked up at you, the light bouncing off his two lip piercings on his lower lip. “If I start and your body is not relaxed it’s going to hurt like a bitch.” He said bluntly, setting his tattoo gun onto his workstation. His words didn’t help, only causing your heart to quicken in pace and freak you out even more.

Because how could you possibly calm down?

It felt utterly impossible…

You weren’t nervous about the needle, or getting tattooed to begin with. You were experienced when it came to the inking process. What was working the nerves was the thought of his stern gaze and calloused hands feeling up your bare bottom. His gloved thumbs pressed into your rear, his amber eyes trained on every piece of you from the waist down which was making you nervous as hell.

Miguel eyed you, taking in your troubled expression as you lay upon his tattoo chair. Your bare bottom, covered in a black towel and your chin resting on your hands.

“Let me relax you.”

He abruptly said in almost a commanding voice rather than as a proposition. His suggestion made your heart skip a beat. You couldn’t help the naughty thoughts that came to your mind at the thought of him ‘relaxing’ you.

"And h-how would you do that?" You asked, watching him rise from his stool, his imposing figure casting a shadow over you.

"I'm going to give you a massage."

He declared. Your eyebrows furrowed at the unexpected proposal, your entire body suddenly heating up. "I've never heard of a tattoo parlor doing something like that." You admitted, feeling him adjust the chair's height to match his towering 7-foot frame, bringing the seat up to his waist.

"That's because you've never been to the Bloody Inks before," he said, a hint of amusement found in a usual cold voice. "There's a reason we're notorious in Nueva York, Y/N " he explained. "If we did what every other parlor did, we'd be just like any other tattoo shop…

Isn’t that right?”

He whispered, his voice sending shivers down your back. “I-I guess so.” You replied as without warning you began to feel his thick fingers on your shoulders, caressing small patterns into your blades. You gasped, the feeling instantly making you melt into the chair.

“You okay?” He asked, every touch of his thick fingers against your tensed muscles making you shudder. “Mhm.” The hum being pulled from your very being and coming out more forceful than you attended whilst Miguel continued his massage.

Miguel’s tattooed hands were large and strong, tracing the contours of your muscles and pressing gently into them. Suddenly, you winced slightly, the tension resisting his skilled touch. “Relax,” He uttered, his voice a low rumble that reverberated from the depth of his broad chest. You shakingly nodded, eyes fluttering closed at the wonderful sensations. “O-Okay. I’ll try.” You replied, trying to calm yourself.

You shakingly exhaled, feeling Miguel’s hands move down your back, his soothing caresses focusing on the crease that began the arch of your ass.

“Damn, there's a lot of tension here.” He commented, adding more pressure into his fingers and kneading the soft tissue in that area. You let out a contented sigh, his large hands enclosing around the sides of your waist. His thumbs pressed into your skin through the fabric of your white t-shirt, rubbing small patterns into your lower back. You groaned softly, the sensations he was bringing to you felt so good.

His touch, mysteriousness, voice, coldness, everything about him was so hot.

His fingers soothing places in your back that you didn’t even know existed, bringing you closer to tranquility.

“How do you feel?” He asked, pressing and running his palm along the center of your back, making you shiver. You exhaled deeply, your limbs feeling heavy and relaxed. “Mmm, good. It feels good.” You replied with closed eyes.

“That’s good to hear.” He said, his hands leaving your body.

“But I can’t help but notice you are still tense.”

Miguel said, making your eyebrows furrow as a sense of emptiness filled your being without his touch.

“W-what do you mean?” You inquired, entirely puzzled. You didn’t feel a single bit of tension in your backside. A feeling of pure relaxation filled your being, leaving you confused about what he meant by such things.

But it wasn’t like you were skilled as a masseuse yourself, so you could be mistaken.

“Yes, you are still tensed.” He uttered, running his fingers along the center of your backside, over the curve of your ass to rest a hand on your rear that was covered in the black towel.

“Here, it needs my attention.”

You were shocked and in disbelief, instantly becoming speechless; but despite your bewilderment, Miguel continued talking. “It’ll only make sense to massage where I'll be working. It’ll help loosen the muscles of your rear, making tattooing it less painful.” He explained, but it still didn’t stop the huge blush that spread across your face. You didn’t know how to respond, stuck between your own uncertainties and desires.

“T-this will be… beneficial?” You asked shakingly, trying to push past the naughty and erotic things that were filling your head. Miguel hummed. “Yes, I’ll be tattooing your left buttock, so it’ll help make the tattoo process smoother…

For you, I mean.”

You bit your lip. The butterflies, going rampant in your stomach. You didn’t know what to do or what to say, but then the realization that he was going to have to see and touch your bottom anyway when the actual inking process began led you to put your worries to the side and agree.

“No. I don’t mind.” You said, thankful that Miguel couldn’t see how red you were due to your face being away from him. Miguel hummed, his previous touch seeming to linger upon your skin.

“I’ll have to remove the towel. You okay with that?” He asked, which made your heart skip a beat. You shakingly exhaled, nodding. “Yes.”

You felt him lift the black towel from your bottom, the cool air rushing over your bare rear. You sucked in a breath as before, Miguel didn’t warn you, his warm hands groping your cheeks and instantly beginning to knead the fat of your ass.

This time, the sensations were different.

On your backside, the massage was more relaxing and tranquil, but on your rear, it felt more personal, more…

Intimate.

His touch made you feel pleasure beyond anything…

You bit your bottom lip harshly, trying to muffle the erotic cries that wished to escape whilst Miguel’s calloused hands worked wonders on your rear. His fingers pressed firmly into your left cheek, squeezing the fat before moving along the sides. It was a process that you pondered if it was professional or not, but it wasn’t like you cared.

His fingers knead into your soft flesh, like dough, making you see stars every single time. You were slowly becoming wet, your arousal spilling from your exposed sex to gradually coat your thighs and drench the gray towels underneath you.

The massage was good.

Dangerously too good…

A sudden moan broke free, filling the tattoo room when he roughly groped both of your cheeks in his large hands, spreading them apart. You instantly blushed horribly, embarrassed beyond anything.

“O-Oh my gosh, I-I’m so sorry.” You briskly replied, wanting nothing more than to hide. You didn’t know how the hell Miguel would react.

Would he cease his wonderful massage?

Tell you to leave?

Would things get hella awkward now?

You felt like a complete idiot, mentally facepalming yourself for giving into the pleasure of a total stranger.

But to your surprise, Miguel did something you weren’t expecting.

He chuckled.

For the first time since you met the menacing and large Latino artist, he showed an emotion that didn’t make you feel so freaking intimidated. The sound of the small, deep laughter that passed his lips was honestly breathtaking, and you wanted nothing more than to hear it again.

“No need to apologize.” He replied, drawing your attention back to him and his wonderful massage. His touch on your rear became more soft and gentle like he was taking his time with you.

“It just shows I’m providing you what your body needs.” He replied, moving his hands onto your thighs, caressing them with his thumbs before running his hands up to fully cup your asscheeks into his hands. You moaned softly, your body instinctively arching up into his waiting palms. Miguel snickered, giving your ass another squeeze when everything stopped.

His movement on your rear ceased, his small laughs, movement, everything!

You lay there, waiting for anything to happen when you suddenly felt his pierced lips against your ear.

“Let’s drop the act, Cariño.”

He whispered, his breath warm on your face and his piercings, cold against your skin. Your heart dropped, and your body instantly became hot.

You tried to speak, to deny what he was saying, but your quivering lips wouldn’t form the words.

He snickered at your speechlessness and how flustered you were, the sound sending tingles throughout your entire being and going straight to your throbbing core.

“Let me relax you how we both desire, Y/N.”

He hummed, resuming his touch on your rear, but this time it was different. It was purposefully more erotic. He gave your bottom a sensual squeeze with one hand, his other moving up to stroke your hair.

You couldn’t believe this was happening.

It felt surreal.

Something you'll fantasize about your sexy tattooist…

But Miguel’s fingers running through your hair, massaging your scalp whilst continuing to tease and knead your right asscheek with his fingers made you think otherwise.

You were speechless yet again. You didn’t know how to respond, but your body was doing the speaking for you.

Your juices dripping down your thighs and soaking the gray towels under you, spoke volumes on its own. You shakingly exhaled, trying to calm your excitement.

Miguel chuckled, his fingers continuing their tantalizing play on your rear, tempting and taunting you to give in to the sexy artist.

You bit your lip harshly, eyes fluttering as he, teasingly, brushed his thumb across your slick folds. You gasped at his attempt to entice you more.

“Mmm, you are soaking, Muneca.” He growled against your ear, his lip rings brushing your lobe and making you shudder. He sucked in a breath, running his fingers up and down your slick folds, coating his digits in your never-ending arousal. He groaned at your wetness, cupping your mound, to circle his two fingers around your sensitive bud. You moaned helplessly, trembling with pleasure.

“Muneca, you want this, just as much as I do.” He uttered, pressing his fingers more against your throbbing bud, eliciting a cry to escape your lips and making you wetter.

“Let me relax you.” He whispered, his deep voice filled with desire as he removed his hands to place them on your hips, caressing gentle circles against your sides.

“Let me taste what this pussy of yours is like and then I'll tattoo that rose on your gorgeous ass.”

He proposed once again. His words alone made your stomach clench in want. The gray towels underneath you completely soak with your arousal.

You couldn't stop yourself. The desire blinded you as your head slowly nods at his erotic proposition.

“P-Please.” You practically begged; voice tainted with desperation for more of him. You felt his pierced lips pull into a smirk against your ear.

“Good girl, Y/N.” He praised, nipping softly at your ear before pulling away. His touch left you cold and empty.

“On your knees. Ass up.”

He commanded, his coldness resurfacing right before your eyes. His sternness was even more attractive and made your core throb in anticipation.

You bit your lip, lust blinding your every action, thought, and word as you rose on the tattoo chair. As he instructed, you stood up on your knees and forearms with your ass thrust up into the air.

The cool air continuously brushed along your heated core, making your breathing hitch every time. The position gave him a full display of your wet folds and the gradual drip of your arousal down your thighs. The sight alone revealed your evident desire for him which made you excited, but also ashamed.

This sexy stranger was intimidating, scary, and someone you would, normally, never align yourself with.

So what was different about him that had you practically soaking his chair?

In your peripherals, you saw Miguel move. The mere motion snapped you out of your thoughts as his massive being disappeared from view. Instantly, you became anxious, oblivious to his next actions.

A sexy groan escaped his lips, feeling his amber eyes trained on your exposed sensitive area. “That's a pretty pussy you got that.” He purred, making you blush horribly. You buried your face into your inner elbow, embarrassed for liking the compliment from someone as sexy as him.

Miguel chuckled. “Does someone like my praises? You are a naughty one, Cariño.”

He snickered. Your face, reddening even more. His fingers continued their dance along the skin of your ass, your breathing becoming more shaky and your body burning hot.

His words and touch alone were enough to make you lose control. Beads of your essence running down your thighs.

“Cariño, I've only known you for about 30 minutes, yet, there is something about you that fascinates me. Something that I love so very fucking much….

Want to know what that is?”

He asked, his voice deep and husky, yet sending a shiver down your spine; his fingers ghosting along your skin. “Y-Yes.” You shakingly inquired, curious about his answer, but also anxious for him to cease his teasing and touch you.

He chuckled at your cluelessness, running his nails along your bare rear making you shiver.

“I love that despite your obvious hesitance and, dare I say, fear, you give into your wants, Muñeca

Your desires.”

He uttered, the pads of his fingers barely touching you, but forming goosebumps, everywhere along your skin.

“I-I don't understand.” You breathlessly and honestly replied, trying your hardest to look over your shoulder at the large male but failing every time.

“You don't understand, bebé?” He purred, his fingers leaving your bottom. “Then let me turn those gears in that sexy head of yours.” He whispered, his heavy footfalls slowly walking to stand in front of you. You gulped, glancing up to see him right before you, the growing bulge in his black jeans being the main attraction.

“You come into my shop for an ass tat, yet you were nervous as hell to get it.” He acknowledged. “But despite your nerves, here you are on my chair with that sexy ass all ready for me." He said with a smirk. His hand moved to run through your hair, massaging your scalp with the pads of his fingers once more.

Your eyes fluttered, sinking more into the soft leather, your rear rising. “And even now, I intimidate you, don't I, Cariño?” He asked, his male cologne and the faint scent of cigarette smoke filling your nose, increasing your desire for him.

Regardless of your lust, Miguel did intimidate you. His massive body, bulging muscles, stern-drawn face, tattoos, lip rings, and cold aura made you nervous around him.

That you couldn't lie about...

“Y-yes. You do.” You confessed, eliciting a deep hum from Miguel. “Yet, you are giving yourself to me.” He whispered, moving his hand from your hair to take your chin into his calloused fingers. He turned you to look up at him, your eyes darting to take in his chiseled cheeks, massive neck tattoo, enticing rings on his plush lips, smoldering amber eyes, and dark brown hair that loomed over his eyes.

He smirked, his canines peeking out from his lips. “You are delivering yourself to me on a silver platter, Y/N.” He rasped, caressing your chin and holding your stunned gaze before pulling away. You were left breathless, gasping for air, you didn't know you were holding.

You tried to track him, his huge, menacing form returning behind you and out of your sight. “So love, despite your worries, reluctance, and inner thoughts telling you to stop and turn back.

If you desire something, you go through with it...”

Your eyebrows furrowed. You wondered if Miguel's observation of you was correct.

Were you the type to follow your desires, even though everything in you was telling you otherwise?

You pondered, if the sexy stranger was right, despite only knowing you for a short time.

But that thought soon became nothing but mush in your brain when his sudden grip on your asscheeks made your entire mind go blank. As if dipped in warmth, your body instantly melted like chocolate under his fingertips, a soft moan escaping your lips.

Miguel hummed, his breath brushing along your heated core, only making you wetter.

“And I love a woman that knows what she wants,” He uttered, pressing a kiss to your left ass cheek, making you gasp,

“What she needs…” He whispered, pressing another kiss to your other eliciting another soft moan from you.

“I can tell you are going to be tasty…”

He rasped before finally giving you what you desired and swiping his tongue along your folds.

You cried out, slumping against the tattoo chair whilst Miguel licked at your rear. He groaned, squeezing your ass and pressing his face more into your bottom, licking, sucking and completely devouring you.

You moaned uncontrollably, gripping the leather seat tightly. “O-Oh gosh.” You whimpered as Miguel continued his pleasurable assault, running his skillful hands up and down your spine, brushing your shirt up to feel more of your skin. You were becoming hot and increasingly wet, your love juices spilling from your entrance to be swallowed by Miguel’s eager mouth.

With every suction of his lips and the swipe of his tongue, it made your mind complete mush, time and space becoming non-existent. “So delicious, Muñeca.” He groaned, sloppily ravaging your core, and fucking you with his tongue.

The tattoo room was filled with your whines and whimpers, Miguel’s low groans, and the squelching of your wet pussy. Your entire body was clenching and squirming the closer you got to that sweet end.

Like his hands, Miguel’s mouth worked wonders on you. His tongue moved rapidly across your pussy, seeming to be everywhere at once. Swirling your throbbing bud, thrusting into your entrance, and lapping your delicate pussy lips. a

When it came too much to bear, Miguel held you close, preventing you from moving away from him. It only made you tremble, the pleasure consuming your entire being.

“M-Miguel, I-I’m close.” You cried out, pressing your face into the tattoo chair. He hummed, the vibrations rumbling through you and making your stomach tighten even more. “You want to cum, pretty girl?” He chuckled, moving from your desired spot to kiss along the skin of your bottom. His hooped, lip rings brushed along the skin of your ass and made you even more wetter.

You moaned softly, frantically nodding. “Yes, yes. Please, Miguel.” You whined, wanting him to bring you to your release. You felt his pierced lips pull into a smirk. He pressed a kiss to your right cheek before returning his skilled mouth to your puffy pussy lips once more.

You gasped loudly, his tongue darting erratically along your dripping folds. The feeling was more extreme than ever before as he continued, tugging and lapping at your sweet pussy.

You were so wet, your thighs dripping with your arousal like a relentless rain, its non-stop downpour completely soaking your legs and the gray towels underneath you. You gritted your teeth, the burning in the pit of your stomach becoming too much to bear, begging for a release.

Everything felt so good, you wanted to hold on, to feel more of Miguel’s tongue and hands that roamed your body, caressing you in ways that increased the pleasure by 10-fold;

But you just couldn’t…

With a loud cry, you climaxed hard onto his waiting mouth. Your vision saw white, eyes rolling as your sticky juices covered his pierced lips and ran down your legs. Miguel groaned in pleasure, gripping your cheeks harshly, widening you and licking you clean, whispering, 'So good. Such a good girl for me,’ over and over again.

It was like music to your ears.

Your eyes fluttered as he finished; tugging away from your pussy lips with a wet plop. You were dazed, falling flat against the tattoo chair, and trying to calm your breathing and come down from your epic high.

Faintly, you could hear Miguel’s boots against the black marble flooring, moving around to stand beside you, coming into view once more.

With glazed eyes, you looked over at him, breathing heavily. His chin and pierced lips were completely covered in your arousal. Like a king who had just feasted on a buffet fit for royalty, he used his fingers to wipe it off in satisfaction. “So delicious, Muñeca.” He praised again with a smirk. Your entire body and face flushed at his erotic compliment. You were speechless, not at all knowing how to respond.

For a moment you just stared up at him, still trying to figure out if what just happened, happened.

His amber eyes roamed over your form once more, lingering on your bare rear longer than anything else. He growled, stepping closer once more. “But don’t think we’re done here, Muñeca.”

“I want more.

Just one more taste”

He uttered, the words surprising you, but not as surprising as what he did next…

Everything was a blur, his large being moved so quickly it was hard to follow, especially in your dazed state.

You soon found him underneath you on the tattoo chair, his massive body laying under you and your puffy pussy lips right over his waiting mouth. His large hands roughly groping your rear, and holding you tightly in place.

Certainly, you wouldn't be able to get out of his hold, even if you tried.

You gulped, staring down at him between your thighs in shock. Your mind, not keeping up fast enough. “M-Miguel, w-what-”

“Let me relax you, chica.”

He cut you off, gripping your ass in his large, inked hands and pushing you down onto his mouth once more. You cried out, his mouth even more intense than ever.

Your eyes fluttered and rolled as his tongue circled your clit, teasingly applying more pressure and making you whine. Your fingers, instinctively, found his dark brown hair, gripping and tugging at the chocolate strands and making Miguel groan.

He caressed your bottom with his large, calloused hands, sucking at your sensitive bud with his hot, wet mouth, expertly flicking it. You moaned helplessly. “M-Miguel, g-gosh. It feels so good.” You cried out, instinctively, grinding your hips against his mouth, chasing another steady rising climax. Miguel's eyes fluttered close, savoring your taste on his tongue as he lapped and sucked at your sticky folds.

Your breathing quickened, his piercings grazing against your sensitive skin with every lap of his tongue against your entrance. You were slowly losing it, feeling him gradually ease his tongue inside of you before thrusting you repeatedly with the wet muscle.

You moaned loudly, rutting your hips and continuously brushing his nose into your clit, his tongue continuing its torment. A strangled moan erupted from your throat, the pleasure becoming too much. You shook uncontrollably, gripping his hair tightly and squirming on his mouth.

“A-Ahh, Miguel, I-I can’t-” You tried moving off, but Miguel firmly held you down on his mouth, his tongue, darting in and out of your entrance, fucking you with his warm, wet muscle.

The familiar feeling of scorching heat began to rise in your stomach. You gritted your teeth, his metal ringed, lip piercings brushing against your pussy lips with each suckle. He reached around, parting your lips and sticking his tongue deeply into your opening, messily lapping and sucking you.

Your love juices soaked his lips and chin to be sloppily devoured by Miguel. The room was filled with the erotic sounds of your pussy’s squelches. Silent moans passed your lips, as your head limply fell back to be caught by Miguel’s large hand.

He took your chin in his tattooed finger, pulling you back down towards him. He moved his mouth from your heated core as his intense dark eyes met yours. “I want your eyes on me.” He said, his breathing rather stable, despite almost drowning in your pussy for what felt like an hour. His tattooed hand caressed your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I want to see you cum, Muñeca .” He whispered, pressing kisses along your inner thighs and nipping softly. You bit your lip, a soft moan passing your lips at his pecks. You weakly nodded, almost completely dazed.

He smirked, pressing a long searing kiss to your thigh. “Hmm, good girl.” He uttered parting your pussy lips with two thick fingers and attacking your swollen clit once more. It took everything in you to keep his intense gaze. His dark brown eyes stared intently back at you whilst his tongue and lips moved in a frenzy along your pussy.

Your body trembled horribly, fingers gripping his hair tightly to stabilize yourself.

“M-Miguel.” You whined his name over and over again. The desire to tell him of your reached peak was on the tip of your tongue, but the pleasure was too overwhelming; leaving you unable to say such a thing as your release unexpectedly slammed into you.

With a loud strangled moan, you orgasmed for the second time.

Your body shook uncontrollably as your thighs squeezed around Miguel tightly. Your juices gushed out onto his eager mouth whilst a sensation of pure bliss sprouted throughout your being.

Your eyes rolled as silent and breathy moans busted from the depth of your chest. Miguel didn’t cease his torment, continuing to suckle on your puffy pussy lips, swallowing all of your sweet nectar. His lips and chin were completely drenched in a mixture of saliva and your love juices, but it didn’t seem as if the massive tattooist cared.

Until he was satisfied, Miguel continued to slurp messily at you. You were highly sensitive, squirming on his mouth and whimpering uncontrollably as he held you down with a firm grip on your thighs. When his thirst was satiated, you were relieved to hear a deep hum of delight escape his glistening lips and soon feel him effortlessly lift you from his mouth to rest your bare bottom on his clothed chest.

You were breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath. When you finally came down from your high, you glanced up to see his dark eyes peering back at you. His gaze was intense and stern as always, but your attention instantly went down to his mouth and the mess you’ve made upon it.

His tanned lips and piercings glistened with your arousal. Your essence dripping down to coat the entirety of his chin. Your entire face burned up at the sight.

“Oh my gosh, I’m s-so sorry.” You hastily apologized, still a little jittery from your explosive orgasm. You reached over to grab the black towel that was left discarded on his stool to try to clean him up.

“Don’t.”

He simply stated, capturing your wrist in his large hand to halt your movement. Your eyebrows furrowed, watching him take the towel from you and toss it to the side.

You were confused, your eyes taking in his mouth and chin that was still covered in your juices. His pierced lips pulled into a smirk, his hands moving to caress your bare ass.

“I want to taste all of it, Muñeca. I'm not letting none of you go to waste…”

For the next hour or so, the room was filled with the buzzing of a tattoo gun and Miguel’s deep voice occasionally trying to soothe you.

“Beautiful Muñeca. You are doing well.”

“I promise you, this rose will look good on you when I’m done.”

“Just a little longer, I’m almost finished.”

He whispered, his gloved fingers pressing into your flesh as he applied the last finishing strokes of black ink onto the rose on your rear. You bit your lip harshly, gripping the leather cushion when finally, the buzzing of the tattoo gun ceased. The needle, no longer, harshly pricking of your sensitive skin.

“I’m finished, Muñeca.” He said, placing the gun to the side and soothingly, caressing your waist. You exhaled a sigh of relief, your eyes a little teary.

“You did well, Cariño.” He praised once more, proceeding to clean the tattoo, applying an antiseptic ointment and covering it, all whilst speaking to you.

“Although, you’ve surprised me.” He said with a chuckle. “I thought you’d become a crying little mess on my chair.” He teased, making the two of you laugh. “I won’t lie, I thought so too.” You confessed, feeling him finish up putting a protective sterile bandage over your freshly inked tattoo.

“I wouldn’t have let that happen on my watch.” He said with a smirk, motioning to you with a finger for you to stand up. “Carefully.” He sternly said, giving you a pointed look. His voice had its usual coldness but also held a hint of affection in his tone.

That maybe the sexy tattooist might actually care about you.

You gave him a small smile, watching him begin to pack up his tattoo items and place them back into his closet. You followed Miguel’s words, cautiously rising up and off of the chair. You winced softly, your left cheek a little sore.

You walked over to the body mirror in Miguel’s tattoo room, turning around to admire the fresh inking on your rear through its sterile bandage.

It was beautiful…

Just like you thought.

The black rose was wonderfully sketched and etched onto your rear end. Its petals, pistils, and leaves, were all defined perfectly and coated the entirety of your left cheek.

You couldn’t stop looking at it, finding something else about it that you loved.

Large hands settled on your waist, snapping your attention from your tattooed bottom to up at the hot male through the mirror. He smirked, meeting your gaze through the glass. “It’s sexy, isn’t it?” He asked, caressing your sides as you smiled, nodding.

“You did really well, Miguel.” You complimented, both of your eyes, taking in the intricate linings of the rose on your rear. “I’m happy you like it.” He said, cupping your chin in his fingers to turn you to look up at him.

“But make sure you properly treat it every day. I’ll send you a list of aftercare instructions.” He said, his amber eyes taking in your face whilst he spoke. You bit your lip, nodding. “I will.” You replied. He smirked, glancing down at your lips before meeting your eyes once more.

“Good, now kiss me.” He said in his cold tone, but his amber eyes held a look of fondness in them. You smiled, cupping his face in your hands and leaning in to press your lips against his.

You moaned softly upon the impact, his metal lip rings, smooth and cold, only making the kiss even hotter. You passionately kissed his lips, savoring the feeling of his lip rings and the taste of his plush lips against your own.

When the two of you pulled away, breathing heavily from the heated exchange, he smirked, squeezing your waist before stepping back. “I hate to tell you this, but I have a client in the next 10 minutes.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest. “But I’ll see you next time, Muñeca, for your check-up.” He smirked, handing you a business card with his contacts and the address of the Bloody Inks on it.

You smiled, taking the card from him, your hands touching during the small interaction that sent a spark straight through your being.

You couldn’t help but wonder if Miguel felt it too…

There was an unmistakable pull that was drawing you towards him. You didn’t want to leave him, despite only meeting him that day.

The desire to snuggle up in his muscular arms, to feel his touch on you once more was overwhelming, but he was right.

It was time for you to depart…

So after carefully getting dressed back into your panties and black shorts, you pressed one final kiss upon the sexy tattooist’s pierced lips. The kiss oddly felt unending, but not long enough when you finally pulled away from each other, leaving you, even more, hungrier for him than before.

You exited out of his room, walking through the tattoo space of the shared artists of Gwen and Hobie who thanked you for coming, to then leave the tattoo parlor altogether.

You walked down the sidewalk, feeling like a completely different person. You twirled the business card that Miguel gave you in between your fingers. A feeling of bursting adoration for the beautiful inking that adorned your left cheek, knowing it was created by the sexy tattooist.

To you, the stunning piece of art wasn’t just a tattoo.

No…

It was the marking of a memory of a day when a serious, cold, sexy, and dedicated artist came into your life, revealing a different side of yourself- a daring, more confident side that would forever be engraved in your mind.

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel excited to see the sexy tattooist again, anxious for all the fun you and Miguel would get up to on your next visit to the Bloody Inks…

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed 'The Black Rose.' Make sure to like, comment, follow, and reblog!! Love you guys!

<3 Taglist:

@oscarissac2099 @powerful-niya @szapizzapanda @mcmiracles @mreowmoreww @thedevax @jadeloverxd @lazyotakuofficial @migueloharacumslut @nattywattyy @homewreckingwreck @kinkybandages

#miguel o'hara #spider man 2099 #across the spiderverse #the blue panther #miguel ohara #miguel #miguel smut #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x fem!reader #miguel o hara #atsv miguel #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel x reader #miguel x y/n #spiderman 2099 #astv miguel #miguel x you #miguel x reader smut

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sanakimohara · 3 months

Text

“DDLG” H. H. Pt. 2

A/N: Someone made this request and I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED IT WHEN I TRIED TO ANSWER THEM….i almost had a breakdown from the guilt (I’m so sorry love) but here’s more DDLG Hyunjin for you guys 🖤

[ MDNI ]

++++++

Dom Hyunjin has you spoiled rotten to the core. His card lives in your hand and he loves it. “Daddy, look what I bought today. It comes with this too..” you show off everything you get and he’ll sit there admiring it all. His spending isn’t deemed a reward for you. No, it’s more of a natural instinct of showing his affection towards you, and his giving nature only makes you softer for him. He gives and you take.

Dom Hyunjin is a borderline hard dominant. He lets you get away with a lot of things if you’re in public but when you’re alone you pay the price tenfold. ‘Sorry’ doesn’t work on him often. Acts of submission do. “You want to be forgiven that bad?” “If you’re really sorry do as your told, baby doll.” “Stop crying. You asked for this, remember?”

Dom Hyunjin will mock you. He loves it, mirroring your pathetic pleads and dramatic pouts. He could be pressing your tear stained face into the pillows, laughing softly as you cry and tremble underneath him. You know he doesn’t mean any harm by it but the notion that he could care less turns you on more than you care to admit.

Dom Hyunjin gets possessive so easily. He’s not particularly fond of anyone eyeing you for more than two seconds. When you’re out together he’s got a causal grip on you. An arm around your waist or a firm hand on your lower back. Doesn’t matter to him as long as you’re in line of reach. It’s comforting on a surface level but you know he’s being discreetly territorial.

Dom Hyunjin likes to get a before and after shot of you everytime he fucks you. It’s a common habit you don’t entirely understand but find oddly endearing. Seeing your makeup so elegantly done just to be ruined with tears and a mixture of cum brings a smile to his face without fail. He’ll sneak in some pictures of you sleeping, all worn out, and curled into his side.

Dom Hyunjin prefers you wear skirts or dresses around him. If you add stockings/thigh high socks with it he inevitably trails after you all day, waiting for the perfect moment to bend you over and get a much a deserves taste of your cunt. You can try and swat his hands away or telling him “No, not now daddy. I’m busy.” He won’t hear a word you say, pushing your skirt above your hips, and kneeling to kiss the curve of your ass. “Don’t mind me then.” He murmurs against your skin, tracing your slit over your lace panties with two fingers, and you give in with a soft moan.

Dom Hyunjin sends you gifts when he’s away. Some are sentimental, intricate flower bouquets, personalized jewelry, and anything he finds particularly cute that he knows you’d like. You have a growing collection of designer products/clothes he’s given you. Never, once have you complained or wanted to return something because he doesn’t make a mistake…ever.

Dom Hyunjin lets you play with the rings on his hand when you’re bored, secretly adoring the way your fingers glide through his, and the slight size difference between them. Sometimes you don’t realize you’re doing it as a way to cope if you’re anxious.

Dom Hyunjin gives you random head pats when you’re completing a task. “Look what I made, daddy! Lix helped me..” you beam a smile at him, holding up the platter of fudge squares you’ve made, and he can’t help but to praise your efforts. “They look amazing, baby.” He compliments you softly, tousling your hair just a little as you giggle quietly, and hold up a piece for him to taste. He’ll gladly take a bite, letting half of it melt on his tongue before offering what’s left to you. “Open,” he commands gently, smiling as your lips fall apart, obediently accepting the treat with a smile.

Dom Hyunjin styles your hair a lot. Especially during aftercare -he’s adamant about brushing through it a hundred times, gentle as ever with you, and tying it back with a bow/ribbon of your choice. You doze off quickly each time, genuinely comforted by the gesture. Even in public he’ll play with your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear if it’s out of place, or fluffing it to frame your face perfectly.

Dom Hyunjin travels with you frequently. Flying from country to country is common for you two but doing it together is exceptionally exciting. It’s not everyday you get to spend a week in Paris before landing in Japan the very next day. “Can we go to the Sanrio store in Tokyo tomorrow?” He looks up from scrolling on his phone, squinting as he thinks of an answer, and eventually he nods in agreement. “We can. After the campaign shoot though. How’s that sound, baby doll?” You grin at him and rush to plant a kiss on his cheek to which he steals one from your lips. “That works for me…”

Dom Hyunjin doesn’t set too many rules for you. He’s aware you’re capable of taking care of things yourself, that you’re independent, and headstrong. However, when you do want to release control to him the transition is seamless. He can read you like a book when it happens. How quiet you get in public or gravitating to him at events. The slightest expression in your eyes tells him everything he needs to know. He’ll do any act of service for you, lace up your heels, order your meals, and carrying your belongings or bags. Princess Treatment galore.

+++++

Like I said someone requested this but I accidentally deleted it when I tried to reply to it….🖤 so I’m really sorry and I hope they see this and know it’s for them 😭🖤

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

His “Yes…” in the audio….???? that’s exactly how he’d sound saying it to you. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. 🖤 Credits to the creator fr 🖤

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ahoycaptainautumn · 8 months

Text

Fated Mates

Synopsis: you, a vengeful vampire slayer, cross paths with the devious and handsome Astarion. Instead of a stake through the heart, Astarion finds something he thought impossible for vampire spawn. A mate.

Not sure how many chapters this will be but it will be slow burn 🖤

Crimson eyes. All that swims in your memory is the look of pure satisfaction in those eyes at the carnage that unfolds before you. Your mother and siblings laid drained and lifeless before you. Your father chanting prayers as he grovels at the feet of the man before you. He is sleek and pristine, with onyx colored hair and prestigious clothing now splattered with the blood of your loved ones. His lips form a nasty sneer, sharp canines glistening in the now dimly lit manor.

“You should have never made a wager you couldn’t keep, especially with a vampire.”

•••

Suddenly you are jolted away from the heart wrenching memory. Nightmares coming and going as blurs of reality swing past you. A tentacle creature. Some type of bug. But what alarms you now is the feeling of rock beneath you. You try to come to as your memories try to serve you. A ship, crashing said ship, others. Others! You jolt from the ground and look over. The Githyanki fighter is next to you as well as the other female you believed to have introduced herself as Shadowheart. You all look at eachother, relieved to be alive.

You all set foot to find any others that might have been held captive while in that demonic ship. So far you have found a tiefling named Karlach and the humans Gale and Wylls. You split up in search of any others with a designated spot to return to. You come upon one last survivor as you crest over a small hill. Silver hair rustles in the wind as the elf’s back faces you. He just barely looks over his shoulder at you, motioning you closer.

“Quickly! I have one of those brain things cornered over here! Come kill it!” He demands. He points towards the grass down the slope in front of him. You take cautious steps, moving silently towards where he mentions. You tense, hand ready at your weapon. A loud squeal comes bursting from the grass as a hog barrels out and away from you. You barely have a moment to turn around to the elf before a dagger is pressed to your throat. In seconds you are thrown to the ground tugging against strong arms ensnaring you.

“Now me and you are going to have a little chat. And you even think about pulling something and you’ll lose that darling neck of yours.” He all but purrs in your ear. You thrash against him, failing to pull the weapon away from your throat.

“Now I saw you on that ship, don’t even bother lying to me. What did you and those brain freaks do to me!?” He growls. You try to take a look at him but he has you pinned too tightly.

“I don’t have anything to do with those animals! I was taken, we all were!” You try to reason. Your temper begins to take over your fright. You escaped that hell hole. Fought tooth and bone to leave with your life. You would not be put down by some scared little elf. He bites back at you, focused on getting answers and not enough on how tight of a grip he has on you. Fury licks up the base of your body and fills your vision.

“Nice try but you’ll find me hard to convince, now what-“ you cut off his ranting as your leg wraps around one of his own. Your opposite arms elbow plants firmly in the ground as you swing yourself up and over the elf. You land him on his back; twisting his wrist in your right hand as your left hand reaches down to grab his now dropping blade. In one smooth motion your legs capture his frame under your own hip to hip as both of your hands ring around his stolen dagger. Confusion smears over his features as hands shoot up in defense. You just bring yourself to give into your anger, to drive the dagger directly into his heart for infuriating you with his insane tactics before your eyes meet. Crimson eyes meet your (e/c) ones. And the world falls out from beneath you. You plummet into a vast nothingness. Your heart gripped and laid bare. Vampire.

Astarions POV

Barely escaping out of a now wrecked ship with disguising brain maggots crawling from it was probably within the top ten worst days of Asatarion’s long life. His muscles ached and his neck throbbed from the impact of where he now found himself. Brushing off dirt from his sleeves, Asatarion rose to his nimble feet as he shook out the pains in his legs. He finds himself in a grassy plain. The ship that once held him hostage was now just over the horizon smashed in against a mountain. Wreckage spewed across the field with no hint as to where he now found himself. He had half a mind to just start walking and find somewhere someplace someone to end up in. But he remembered there were others, whether fellow captive or foe he was not sure. As if on cue, the crunch of feet on leaves and twigs ushered in behind him. A malicious smirk graced his handsome face. Now there was someone with answers. Or dinner. He could take it or leave it. The manic leer doesn’t leave his face as he feigns terror to his new audience. With a signal of his wagging hand he gestures for them to come forward.

“Quickly! I have one of those brain things cornered over here! Come kill it!” Soft steps quietly make their way towards and past him. Your frame comes into his view. Your (h/c) hair billows behind you as you step in front of him. He takes in your toned form flecked with blood and feels his hunger only grow. A tasty little treat. You appease his cries and look over into the clearing where grass covers most of what hides beneath. Just as you ready yourself for another battle a boar rushes out. Astarion jumps on your temporary confusion and pounces onto you. His blade reaches your neck as he hurls your joined bodies to the ground. You twist and curl from him as you listlessly fight from his grasp.

“Now me and you are going to have a little chat. And you even think about pulling something and you’ll lose that darling neck of yours.” Your face may be facing away from him but he can feel the anger pulsing in your rising blood pressure. Your suppulent artery thrums, tantalizing him under your (s/c) skin. He nearly loses himself there staring at your beating pulse. He reigns himself in, shaking the thoughts and desires to be dealt with momentarily.

“Now I saw you on that ship, don’t even bother lying to me. What did you and those brain freaks do to me!?” He spits. Your talon like nails dig into him as you fight back.

“I don’t have anything to do with those animals! I was taken, we all were!” You all but scream. Astarion snarls, the sound vibrating in his aching fangs. “Nice try but you’ll find me hard to convince, now what-“ Astarion finds himself interrupted as you maneuver your body to throw him under yourself. Your long legs hook under each of his own while you busy yourself with stealing his dagger. Astarion can’t help but be mildly impressed but confusion and annoyance soon take precedence. His hands shoot upwards to grab the weapon from your nimble hands. His gaze darts up to you and the moment your gazes lock it as if fire runs throughout his entire body. Every system, every neuron locks against his will. The rest of the world falls to the sidelines, the world blurring around you. You seem to have the same reaction as your muscles relax and a quizzical look takes over the fiery one of earlier.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” You sneer. Astarion puts on his most dazzling smile in hopes it covers the utter confusion he feels at what had just passed between the two of you.

“Astarion my dear, and what’s your name oh so deadly killer?” Your temper flares across your face at his teasing.

“(Y/n).” It sounds vaguely familiar. Like a name long forgotten wiggling in the back of his mind. Or it was the rabid worm that was placed there.

“If you are all done wrestling now, we have ground to cover!” Shadowheart yells. You look up at her, back to him and then back to her. Torn on whether to stab him or not, you decide on the latter. You hoist yourself up and side step away from him. Bringing himself up by the elbows Astarion takes a moment to look you over. Interesting.

Part 2 here

#astarion #astarion x mc #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x tav #mates #fated mates #balders gate 3 #bd3 #vampire #reader insert #smut #slow burn

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frenchkisstheabyss · 6 months

Text

✶ Cellophane ✶

✶ Pairing: model!hyunjin x model!chubby!fem!reader, model!minho x model!chubby!fem!reader

✶ Genre: fluff, angst, suggestive

✶ Summary: After discovering that your lover's attending one of the most important events of your career with another woman, a friendly face appears to save the day and steal your heart in the process.

✶ Word Count: 3.1k-ish

✶ Warnings: Discussion of the reader's struggle as a chubby babe in the industry/her everyday life. Sex is referenced but no smut scenes. Drinking, a lil sprinkle of strong language, & I think that's all.

✶ A/N: I started this out with two parts in mind 🖤 part two here 🖤 but now it'll likely end up being three so, like, ya know thanks for coming along for the ride.

This should be one of the happiest days of your life. Only a handful of models your size have ever gotten the chance to walk the red carpet during Paris Fashion Week. It’s not that you haven’t earned it. You've worked your ass off for every contract you signed. Poured blood, sweat, and tears into this even when people said a girl like you could never make it.

Every bit of struggle you've endured has led to this moment. You should be popping bottles and screaming, “Fuck you!” to anyone who doubted you. Instead, you’re sitting in the back of a black SUV in your designer gown choking back tears behind tinted windows.

The lights of a hundred cameras flash. Miniature supernovas bursting against the night sky. A bodyguard exits on the passenger’s side, a muscular man dressed in a nicely tailored black suit, and rounds the car to open your door. With shaky hands and weakened knees you try the breathing exercises your stylist taught you.

Place one hand on your belly. Inhale for 7 seconds. Exhale for 8. But you can’t bring yourself to do it. To let that breath out would be to set free everything you’ve been keeping inside. You can’t do it anymore. It’s too much to pretend that this doesn’t hurt.

Silently cursing Hyujin’s name you exhale for 1…2…3 and you’re right back to the morning when everything fell apart.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you whisper, afraid to wake the sun up any more than it already has. Hyunjin wraps an arm around you, holding you close to him beneath the blankets of a bed he’s made love to you in countless times this weekend. He leans into your neck, committing your scent to memory, his fingers caressing the softness of your love handles. “Like what?”

No one’s ever looked at you the way he does. Hyunjin’s obsessed with your beauty, fascinated by the elegance of your features. He strokes your cheek, his gaze laced with desire, and plants a trail of kisses up your throat. You inhale sharply at the little nibbles he sneaks in between, the air that fills your lungs somehow fresher when he’s around.

His hands trace the rise and fall of your hips, taking sensual handfuls of your plush. Your lips part and his mouth is at yours, sipping your dulcet moans like wine. He shifts his weight, preparing to turn you over when—

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! Your phone vibrates on the bedside table, sending tremors through the porcelain tea cup beside it.

“Ssh, no. Ignore it,” Hyunjin begs, climbing on top of you. A curtain of dark hair falls around you tickling your cheeks. He’s all you can see. All you can feel. Your phone quiets for a brief moment before it sounds once more, the buzzing seemingly more aggressive this time. “Ugh, what do you want?” you groan, snatching it from the table.

Seeing your manager's name, you click to open the thread of texts and immediately wish that you hadn't. Being with Hyunjin has been like a dream but with every word you read, you're beginning to wake up. You’re being dragged back to the real world kicking and screaming. It can’t be true.

“Hyunjin, who—um,” you say, your voice already trembling, “Who is this?” Handing him your phone, you slip out of bed and throw on your robe. Hyunjin sits up, that ethereal glow draining from his face when he’s confronted by what’s on the screen. An article announcing his date to Paris Fashion Week, a doe-eyed blonde rocking a certified 00 couture dress who most certainly isn’t you.

You wait for him to say something—anything—to stop your heart from breaking. He rakes his fingers through his hair, nervously chewing at the inside of his cheek. “I was going to tell you—” “Oh, you were?” you snap, snatching your phone back, “When? The week of? The night of?” “I was going to tell you once I figured things out! This isn’t as easy as you think it is! My agency, they have this idea of who they want me to be with and—”

He doesn’t need to finish his sentence. You already know what he’s about to say. Some variation of what you’ve heard every day in this industry. “And it’s just not me, right? Good enough to be the fat girl you fuck in secret but god forbid anyone sees you with me.” You laugh to keep from crying but tears rush down your cheeks anyway. Hyunjin jumps to his feet, throwing on a pair of sweatpants and rushing to your side.

Hearing you say those things. Seeing you cry. Knowing it’s because of him. It kills him. “Don’t talk like that. I don’t think that way about you. You know that.” He grabs you by the wrist, attempting to bring you into his arms but you push him away. “Do I?” you ask, storming off to the bathroom uninterested in his answer.

Locking the door behind you, you slump to the floor and cry into your soft cotton sleeves. The dream is over, Hyunjin’s pleas for you to open up drowned out to nothing. You’re fully awake now. And it fucking sucks.

Your mind springs back to the present where the bodyguard patiently holds the car door open for you. Minho reaches over to take your hand, “Are you sure you wanna do this?” He’s been such a sweetheart. Not minding your shyness when he picked you up from your hotel or the silence on the ride here. Having you in his presence does more for him than words ever could.

Long before Hyunjin entered the picture, you and Minho would hang out at the occasional after-party or industry event. You'd even developed a bit of a crush on him that you let go of after convincing yourself it was one-sided. The other models would always fawn over how attractive he was but they were much too scared to approach him. “I heard he’s mean” they’d say but they couldn't have been more wrong about him.

Over time you came to find that Minho was a sweet, charming man who was unhinged in the best way once he had a few drinks in his system. That’s how he asked you to be his date. Sipping one too many cocktails at a party neither of you wanted to be at, he’d mentioned that he didn’t have a date. Maybe since you didn’t either the two of you could go together.

“As friends, of course” he emphasized.

Of course.

Minho gently turns your head to look at him, careful not to ruin your makeup. “We really don’t have to do this. We can go get pizza or something.” “Go get pizza?” you laugh, sniffling a bit, “You wanna skip the most exclusive event of the year to get pizza?” Minho stares blankly at you, not understanding why that’s such a wild idea. “I mean, if it’s with you, why not?”

There’s a fluttering in your chest that you can’t control. The rekindling of something that can’t happen. “Ma’am,” the bodyguard says, gesturing for you to step outside. Minho leans forward shooting him a cutthroat glare that demands a few more seconds with you. “If you get nervous just look at me. I won’t leave your side. I’ve got you” he promises and, without question, you believe him.

You’ve walked a thousand runways in 6 inch heels but those first few steps outside of the car make you feel like a baby deer, your heels teetering between gravel. Minho takes your hand again, keeping you glued to his side as you maneuver through the crowd. The atmosphere is electric. Photographers battle each other for the perfect photo.

A sea of assistants and styling teams buzz around their clients, terrified of losing them in the crowd. In front of you, Minho's manager goes back and forth with yours. A low, passive aggressive exchange that no one else notices besides the two of you.

“I should’ve never let him pick her up. You’re late.”

“We were there on time. She was late coming out. This is on you.”

“On me? Bullshit!”

“I think they’re into each other. What do you think?” Minho whispers into your ear, making you crack your first smile of the night. You place a hand on his forearm, mulling it over. “Enemies to lovers vibes for sure.” A casually dressed woman approaches your managers, rattling information off to them for a second before you’re being herded towards the red carpet.

There’s no time to pace yourself. No time to breathe in for 7 and out for 8. You’re thrown in front of the cameras, effortlessly switching into model mode. You know how to sell a garment, striking poses that prove you were born to rock this dress. Minho’s no slouch, looking absolutely regal. His bone structure, a sight to behold from every angle, is particularly striking from where you stand.

He brings an arm around your waist, resting his hand on your side, “I’m really happy you came.” You feel a slight squeeze at your hip as your eyes meet and that fluttering in your chest sneaks back up on you. “Me too.”

Being invited to Paris Fashion Week is an honor in its own right. But being invited to an afterparty? That’s when you know you’ve made it. You’re in the inner circle now. One of the chosen few. A god in comparison to the mere ants who’ll scurry to worship you at the next event. At least that’s the way everyone acts and Hyunjin finds it nauseating.

He’s not one of them but he has to pretend to be. He has to smile and nod while people drone on about the most shallow, egocentric bullshit he’s ever heard. At least that’s what he usually does. Tonight he doesn’t have the energy to mask his irritation. How can he when you’re cozying up at the bar with Minho like he’s not even here?

Hyunjin’s gone out of his way to get you to see him, desperate for you to notice that he’d come alone, but you've been glued to Minho. You're in your element, radiating light, and it’s not fair that another man gets to bask in it. In you.

Is this why you’ve been ignoring his texts? Why every call has gone straight to voicemail? Blinded by rage, infinite possibilities racing through his mind, he’s charging across the room before he can think better of what he’s about to do. Spotting Hyunjin before he can reach you, Minho sneaks away from the bar to cut him off halfway.

“Hyunjin,” Minho grins, picking an invisible piece of lint from the younger man’s shoulder, “You weren’t about to do something stupid, were you?” Hyunjin slaps his hand away, in no mood for pleasantries. “If by 'stupid' you mean punching you then yes, I was.” Minho closes the distance between them, his face turning cold. “You wanna hit me? Do it.”

Hyunjin’s right hand tightens into a fist, the temptation to crack him in the jaw intensifying. Minho leans in, the tips of their noses nearly brushing. “Do it” he challenges, “Fight for her for once.” A group of designers walk by, one in particular has her eye on Hyunjin. Sensing that he’s being watched, he loosens his fist and takes a step back.

“Yeah,” Minho sighs, “Just like I thought. Your little threat was cute though.”

“Why are you doing this?” Hyunjin asks, packing all of the anguish of a scream into a whisper.

That question is an insult to Minho’s intelligence. As if he doesn’t know what he did. Hyunjin never would’ve known you existed if he hadn’t caught Minho scrolling your Instagram one night. Minho was lovestruck, falling for you more and more with each post he saw. Hyunjin’s hatred for him at this moment is nothing compared to what Minho felt when he found out the two of you were together.

“Why am I doing this?” he snaps, “Because I love her and you…you only love that she loves you.”

“Minho!” you sing, puncturing the steeled tension between them. You’d only turned away for a minute to chat up a friend. He couldn’t have gone too far. You scan the crowd, standing on the tips of your toes to find him. He reappears just as quietly as he vanished, making his way back to you. “Sorry, I had to…talk to someone.” There’s worry painted all over him. It’s in the crinkle of his brow and the clenching of his jaw. Something happened.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you ask, stroking his jawline with your thumbs. He closes his eyes, your touch soothing enough to make him forget where he is. “It’s nothing. I’m just—you wanna get out of here?” Opening his eyes, he’s met with nothing but pure excitement. “Totally. You owe me pizza anyway!”

“Which one is this again?” you ask, leaning in to get a better look at Minho’s phone. “Doongie,” he answers, swiping to the next picture of an equally adorable cat, “And this is Soonie and Dori.” You take a bite of what might be the best slice of pizza you’ve ever had in your life, your lips forming a pout. “Ugh, they're so cute. I must cuddle them.” “You can if you want to meet them one day. Maybe. I don’t know.” Minho shoves his hands in his pockets, turning his attention to the crescent moon that watches over you, "Moon's pretty, isn't it?"

Seeing through this transparent attempt at avoiding his feelings immediately tunes you into those you’ve tried to suppress since the night he asked you out. This time last week you weren’t even sure you could survive the red carpet, too afraid of seeing Hyunjin to even consider coming. But now, standing here on this bridge in the picturesque Parc Monceau with a man so kind, so considerate, you can’t imagine being anywhere else.

Minho put everything into making sure this night was perfect for you. He stuck by you the entire time like he promised, doing whatever he could to keep you happy. You’ve never felt more special and it’s not because of some exclusive party invite or some absurdly expensive outfit. It’s because of him.

“I’d really like that…to hang out with them. And you.”

“You want to see me again?”

“Duh, of course, I do.”

Minho visibly deflates, bracing himself to be let down, “Just as friends?” You know you shouldn’t say what you’re about to but your heart has beat your brain into submission and there’s nothing you can do about it. “Friendship? Is that all you want from me?” “No, I want…” he pauses to catch his breath, choosing these next few words carefully.

You’re the cutest thing, standing here with your heels in one hand and pizza crust in the other. And you’re the only thing he wants. “Fuck it” he mumbles, kissing you with every drop of passion he’s held back since you met. It’s the type of kiss so steeped in longing that you taste it each time the warmth of his tongue tangles with yours.

He brings his arms around you, locking them in place to keep you close. You drop everything, your body going limp as the kiss deepens. “I want you,” he confesses, “Always wanted you.” That crush you had on him never quite went away. It's been here all along and is back with a vengeance. You can’t lie to yourself. There’s no use pretending. Not with the way he has your body aching for him, every part of you crying out for his attention.

You want him too.

Morning breaks and the birds are already perched at the open window, singing a song that stirs you from your sleep. You sit up in bed, taking in your surroundings. In the rays of dawn, Minho’s hotel room reminds you of something ripped from the pages of a fairytale. Everything has an iridescent sheen to it, almost as if someone’s cast a spell on it. Even Minho, still half asleep beside you, seems to be made of magic.

If you reach out to touch him would he disappear? And with him, everything you shared last night? Minho grabs your arm, drawing you back under the covers. You go without resistance, eager to be held by him. You lay your head on his chest, your fingers drawing figure eights on his skin. Minho presses his lips to your forehead, caressing your arm with the same care he’d so diligently treated the rest of your body to.

Your body is, of course, immaculate. A gift from some goddess he must’ve mistakenly appeased. To have made love to it time and time again, hearing his name spill from your lips in the hush of the night, is to have realized a fantasy he never thought would happen. But it’s this moment—your smile like honey as you poke your head up to glimpse at him—and every moment like it that he’ll hold closest to his heart when you’ve parted ways.

In Minho’s gaze, you find adoration but there’s much more to it than that. There’s infinite acceptance and with it a longing to know you inside and out so that no part of you feels unloved. Minho turns onto his side, easing down in to kiss you when—

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! Your phone vibrates at the foot of the bed and your stomach sinks.

You swear you can feel your intestines twisting themselves into knots. Not again. “I’ll get it,” Minho insists, reaching up to grab your phone. “Uh…thanks” you stutter, taking it with shaky hands. Clicking the button on the side, you see a string of texts from your manager.

It’s happening again. You’re tempted not to read them. This has only just started. You can’t lose it already. But you have to know. Opening the thread, you’re confronted with your worst fear.

Only, you aren’t…

The texts are business as usual. Flight cancellations, fittings for your next event, complaints about Minho’s “cute but annoying” manager. “Is everything okay?” Minho asks, yawning as he curls up next to you. You toss your phone aside, going back in for a kiss, “The best they’ve ever been.”

#stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x female reader #stray kids x chubby reader #lee know x you #lee know x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x reader #lee know angst #lee know fluff #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #chubby reader #plus size reader

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genderlessghoul · 5 months

Text

Okay I promised Copia content and here it is, we're gonna talk about my absolute favourite Copia costume, his Papa robe.

I love this costume in an insane amount. I might very well make it at some point (when my skins are higher 😅)

It was designed by artist Golgo (@golgo_dft) and made by Majesty Black. Remember when I talked about the gloves? Yeah same person. It's insane to me that they're known for the gloves but not this costume. They also made Nihil's costume. All that, of course, in cooperation with B Åkerlund, Ghost's costume designer.

Here's Golgo's concept art for the robe and another version that was concidered.

I'm glad we got this version because the blue and gold goes SO HARD.

The amount of detail in the embroidery is actually insane. It's also bedazzled to hell with rhinestones.

The fabric is custom dyed polyester, the original is white. (I found a listing for it online, if anyone's interested hmu)

I really wish I had more to say about it tbh but that's gonna be it for now. Good night 💙🖤

#the band ghost #ghost bc #copia #papa emeritus the fourth #papa iv #papa emeritus iv #papa copia #ghost costume #meerkat talks about ghost costumes

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bucky-barnes-diaries · 2 years

Note

mob!bucky being submissive that is all

Fix My Shoes

Pairing || Mob!Bucky x Wife!Reader

Word Count || Around 250

Contents & Warnings || Implied Smut — 18+ Only, Minors DNI, explicit content/language, pet names (babe, doll, princess), slight sub!bucky, implied oral (f receiving).

Authors Note || Hmm ok I loved the little thot I posted about Bucky being a subby little bitch for his princess but idk how subby this piece actually is because I’m not used to writing sub!bucky. But this is the first thing that popped in my head. I still think it’s fucking HOT! This was quickly written and not proofread, but I hope people enjoy regardless :D

Mob!Bucky Masterlist

You and your husband were getting ready to go out to dinner with some friends. You each stood on your designated His & Hers side of the vast walk-in closet, dressing up in luxurious clothes and accessories.

You opted for a little black dress with expensive jewellery and cute black heels. You slid into the shoes, and it seemed such work to bend down and do them up, but you knew someone who would be more than happy to help.

“Babe.”

“Yes, doll.”

He turned around at the sound of your voice as he fixed his collar on the white shirt.

“Fix my shoes?” You held up your leg elegantly as you batted your eyelashes at him.

“Anything for you, princess.”

He smirked as he got down on one knee before you, caressing your calves. The touch made you shiver, and an inaudible moan escaped. He left delicate kisses on your exposed thigh, making your stomach soar with tingling butterflies, as he did up one shoe and then switched sides to do the other.

You ran your hand through his short hair while he fixed your shoes. With each kiss to your tender skin, your core pulsated, wanting those kisses as well.

“Anything else princess wants?” He asked once he finished.

“Hmm, there is one more thing,” with your hand at the back of his head, you guided him towards your core, wanting to exploit more of his kind and generous nature, “if there’s time.”

“I always have time to please my princess.”

Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

If people want to send some more thots please feel free to do so 👀 Maybe some of them will inspire me to write or include them in a longer fic! If not I will write something very short and quick or give you my opinion on the topic 🖤

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honeeslust · 5 months

Text

Satoru and the blinfold

🖤 Let's be clear every version of Satoru is a treat...

Satoru with the mask wants to fuck you in the mirror. He won’t undress, he just undoes his belt and pulls his dick out, smilin and patting his thighs inviting you to take a seat. You're already dripping from the invitation alone. He loves the way you moan when it slides in, your nails dig into his thighs and your ready to work that dick. but as soon as you try to move, he's talking that slick shit in your ear. Be a good girl and sit still, I like the way you feel when your greedy. desperate to move you're crying to him Toru no please I need it. He likes when you beg but the pretty-eyed menace just taunts you with gentle flicks of his fat cock inside you. Look at yourself, see how sexy you are when you’re impatient. You're looking but your desperation has you so delirious that you can't even see straight. that's my good girl sittin so pretty fer me huh? Yes all for you, anything for you baby please let me move. No no, You want this cum don't you. yes I want it, I want all of it. Then watch me make you make you dumb on this dick, open your eyes and look. You're staring at yourself, stuffed full of cock but unable to to a thing about it. It has you twisting inside. your pussy is screaming for even the slightest movement from him. Satoru pinches your nipples and licks your ear. You can’t see his eyes but the way he’s beaming at your reflection tells you all you needs to know. That he's loving this, his white hair peeks out over the blindfold, his porcelain skin contrasting your own perfectly. It really is a sight to see. he bucks it into you just to hear your cute little moans and feel the spasms that ricochet around his length. There she is, he says slipping his hands under your thighs and pulling them apart as he prepared to pump you full of his dick. He loves the way your naked body looks against his fully clothed one. Not to mention he knows you’ve got a thing for the blindfold.

Satoru needs to see how you fuck your self when you ride him. He pulls that one side away from his eye when he lets go of your hips so you can control the angle in which his cock prodded your g spot. Keep fucking yourself, just like that pretty baby. He groans as the circles you churn against him has your nails dragging across his chest. He lifts thighs to support you as you swirl your hips grinding down and making your self come again and again while he lies back appreciating the way your body moved. When you collapse on his chest thinking you made yourself come hard enough, he's palming your cheeks, moving that ass up and down opposite the thrusts of his hips. At first he goes slow, praising you and giving you hickies as he fucked himself up into you. By the time hes bouncing you, your shaking and drooling from your mouth and pussy as he pins you against his chest. You're crying in his ear just how he likes while he bullies that cock in and out of your tight little hole. The one heavenly eye that you could see was dimming with his own impending release. Keep taking it for me like that. Yes yes yes baby fuck ima give you all this cum. He goes crazy in that pussy hammering into your soaked center with a cock felt like it was designed just for your pussy. Look at how you break for me baby he says as his erratic thrusts falter from how weak in the knees you made him. He kisses you hard, moaning your name and spilling his load into your swollen womb.

Satoru with no mask is ready to drown in that pretty pussy. He sweet talks your wetness at he tastes you. I love tickling this pretty clit he says swirling his finger around the little bead. It's the eye contact when he finally slides a lazy pink tongue through the wet crease. You like that, you like when I tease it, don't you baby? he taunts you, pressing kisses to trembling bundle of nerves So-fucking-good- He has you clenching a fistful of this snowy strands between your fingers and the harder you pull the more he groans yesss let me have it all. Satoru fucks you with his tongue easily making you squeal his name. Sweeter than fruit baby, keep feeding me I'm always hungry for this delectable little cunt of yours he says surlping your both openings and rudely smacking his lips over your clit. His mouth makes out with your pussy so good that your body can't even handle the shock. He has to hold you down, forcing your legs back so you watch him devouring you. His sky blue gaze hypnotizes you as he adds his fingers, pulsing and curling into that sweet spot. Again hes slurping away, not wanting to waste a single drop of your essence. By the time your head stops spinning, he’s wiping the corners of his mouth, fully pleased with himself as he should be.

Satoru in the sunglasses is stealing a quickie with you before he meets with the higher ups. They get on his fucking nerves and what better remedy than your pussy which was always ready to pacify him. After kissing you long and hard as soon as you approached him, he forces you over the top of his desk, dragging your pants and thong off at once. With a pop he's in and he's deep, already making you cry out his name with a high pitched squeal when he jammed his cock right into your cervix. He opted for his sunglasses today but the blindfold is always ready for you. He pulls it out of his pocket and reaches around. He shoves it in your mouth as he mounted you. In need of release, he's already fucking you hard and fast, the clapping sounds ringing throughout the walls of his office. Let me get these hips baby, I wanna ride this pretty pussy c'mon. Arch that ass for me. Fucking you with one leg up, there is no way to hide from that dick. It's just blow after blow to your tender uterus. He growls like a rabbid beast as he beats that pussy out the frame. Your gonna feel this dick tomorrow baby. Unggh - your so fucking perfect. Let me fuck you stupid pretty girl. He was right in the way he could leave you senseless. His unrelenting cock is all you can think about. so you’re not even worried that even with your mouth stuffed you're still loud enough to be heard across the hall. Ugh ugh ugh ugh!!!sto-ru-uh-uh-uh your muffled cries had him swollen tight in your walls as he dove deeper. Ssss-close baby, come on this dick, I'm coming with you. Mmmh fuck baby fuck fuck fuck. He hisses cramming into you to the hilt, releasing all kinds of thick creamy cum into you while your slick walls held his engorged length hostage. Shit, they're here he says pulling out and tucking his shirt back in as you fixed your clothes. The kiss he gives you on the way out is laced with the promise of giving you more once he got home. You leave smiling ear to ear to yourself as you walked past the higher ups with your Satorus hot cum soaking your panties.

From the honey pot 🍯

Let me know if you don't wanna be tagged anymore...but heres my babes @callm3senpaii @i-literally-cant-with-this @biscuitsngravie @littlemochabunni @ryomens-vixen @nanamin-nah-nanamine @blkkizzat @crescentmoontsuki

#satoru gojo smut #gojou satoru x reader #satoru imagine #smut writer #smut oneshot #smutxanime honeeslust #spicy headcanons #blackgirlswhowriteanimesmut #jjk season 2 #jjk smut

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