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yuujispinkhair · 1 month ago

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NERD!SUKUNA HEADCANONS - Part 1

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). College AU. 2k words 18+, fluff + smut (Sukuna has some dirty fantasies about Reader. The actual smut will be in Part 2). "Enemies" to friends to fuckbuddies to lovers. Reader is shy and struggles with her grades. Sukuna is a genius but bad at feelings ;) Minors don't interact. Divider @/.lacedolliee. Credit for the super sexy fanart of Nerdkuna goes to my sweet friend @winterrbluess. The pic was used with Winn's permission 🖤 You asked if someone could write a little something about your fave sexy nerd, and I couldn't resist ;) I hope you'll enjoy it!

Nerd!Sukuna, who looks like a bad boy but is actually at the top of all his classes and a huge nerd when it comes to his studies and his various interests. Very intelligent, passionate, and hardworking. Sukuna always wants to be the best in everything he does.

Nerd!Sukuna, who could be one of the most popular guys on the whole campus if he wanted to, with his good looks and impressive height and fit body. But he keeps everyone at arm's length, not giving a fuck about popularity and not wanting to get distracted from his academic success.

Nerd!Sukuna, who once beat up a football player who tried to make fun of Sukuna's passion for all things history-related, and ever since that day, no one dared to bother Sukuna again.

Nerd!Sukuna, who is arrogant and condescending and thinks (rightfully so) that no one is fit to hold a candle to him. He is constantly looking down on everyone around him and would rather spend his free time perfecting his skills and studies than doing something useless.

Nerd!Sukuna, who hates group projects and prefers to work alone because everyone else is just holding him up, and Sukuna has to control all of their steps to fix their mistakes.

Nerd!Sukuna, who rolls his eyes in annoyance when he gets paired up with you for an assignment. A shy little thing whose name he never heard before, which means you are definitely not playing in the same academic league as him.

Nerd!Sukuna, who towers over you with his backpack slung casually over his broad shoulders and his tattooed face cold and hard when he informs you that he expects you to work hard and not fuck up his grades, or he will make your life hell.

Nerd!Sukuna, who is fully convinced this will be a disaster when he sees you wring your hands nervously and promise him you will work your ass off for this assignment because you really need a good grade so you can pass.

Nerd!Sukuna, who is a control freak who plans everything ahead and, therefore, doesn't let you have a word on how often you meet or when or where. He doesn't like having people over at his place, but he invites you over anyway because his kitchen table is his favorite place to study.

Nerd!Sukuna, who fixes you with a stern look through his nerdy glasses as he shoves a huge stack of books across the table, informing you he expects you to read all the needed information, which he already marked for you with various color-coded sticky notes. "Because you probably don't even know what we need for this assignment."

Nerd!Sukuna, who is surprised by how thoroughly you work and by the questions you ask him, which let him know you aren't as dumb as he thought.

Nerd!Sukuna, who likes how you hang on his lips when he explains stuff to you, clearly impressed by his detailed knowledge. And maybe, just maybe, he intentionally lowers his voice a bit more, just to see you get all nervous when he is talking in such a husky way, almost as if he isn't explaining political intrigues in the Heian era to you but rather telling you what he wants to do to you in his bed.

Nerd!Sukuna, who finds devilish joy in seeing how flustered you get around him and how clearly intimidated you are by his tall and broad body and his tattoos and arrogant attitude.

Nerd!Sukuna, who has to admit (only to himself) that getting paired up with you isn't too bad because at least you give your best, and you are actually kind of cute. The kind of sweet, shy girl who usually doesn't cross paths with him.

Nerd!Sukuna, who catches himself watching you during study time in his kitchen or in the library. He tells himself he is just checking if you really do your work, but his gaze mostly lingers on your glossy lips, which wrap around your pen while you focus on something or on your nose, which looks super cute when you scrunch it up in confusion.

Nerd!Sukuna, who isn't one to brag because he thinks that is something for losers, but he can't help but mention casually some of the academic awards he already won just because he is getting addicted to the buzzing in his veins when he sees the way you gulp hard and get all shy and cute on him, muttering something about how you struggle to even stay in college.

Nerd!Sukuna, who usually loves to be a little sadist and make fun of people who have bad grades, but somehow, he can't bring himself to do that when it comes to you.

Nerd!Sukuna, who instead surprises himself by reaching out and ruffling your hair, telling you that he will help you with your studies.

Nerd!Sukuna, who forms a strange little companionship with you, almost looking forward to your meetings and even preparing an extra plate of snacks for you.

Nerd!Sukuna, who usually isn't someone people would refer to as nice, but who drops his arrogant and mocking attitude at least a little when he is in his kitchen with you and instead jokes around with you and feels his heart throb weirdly when you get his humor, and laugh about his even most sarcastic remarks.

Nerd!Sukuna, who likes it when you come out of your shell more and more, joining in on his playful teasing or telling him about your favorite books and shows.

Nerd!Sukuna, who accidentally overhears you telling your classmate that you don't have time to go to the coffeeshop with her because you are already meeting your friend Sukuna after class, which leaves Sukuna standing in the middle of the hallway for a whole thirty seconds, with his mouth hanging open, completely stunned and looking like a brainless idiot as his mind tries to wrap around the fact that you see him as your friend when Sukuna never had a friend before.

Nerd!Sukuna, who makes sure to bake your favorite muffins and prepare your favorite type of tea before you come over that afternoon, wordlessly showing you that he values your companionship, or friendship, as you called it, too.

Nerd!Sukuna, who feels a small smile tug at his usually smirking lips when he sees your big happy smile and hears your sweet "For me? Oh, thank you!" when you see the plate with muffins on your place at his kitchen table. And yes, he refers to it as your place, and the thought makes him feel strangely warm.

Nerd!Sukuna, who playfully teases you for your Hello Kitty pens and glittery pink notebooks, asking if you are in some "Little Princess Kindergarten Club" or something. Only for you to march up to him the next morning before class to press a Hello Kitty text marker set against his chest so he can join the club, too, causing Sukuna to sit in class with a stupid grin on his face for a whole hour.

Nerd!Sukuna, who likes how easy things feel with you. How he can put all his hard work into your assignment and also see you working hard on it, but also have this light-hearted, playful banter with you, making him realize how boring and dry his afternoons used to be before you became his assignment partner.

Nerd!Sukuna, who has to admit that you definitely aren't as bad of an assignment partner as he thought you would be. He even allows you to fill out a whole page all by yourself, which is the biggest compliment he can give you.

Nerd!Sukuna, who catches himself playfully flirting with you, smirking smugly when he catches you staring at him when he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "See something you like, princess? Aww, no need to be embarrassed. I know those glasses look sexy on me."

Nerd!Sukuna, who loves to tease you like that and who ducks just in time when you scream in embarrassment and throw a pen at him while looking so fucking cute that Sukuna just teases you even more.

Nerd!Sukuna, who is quite happy with how your assignment is going. Usually, he would do the whole presentation by himself because he trusts no one else to deliver it the way he wants to, but Sukuna knows how shy you are about talking in front of the class, and Sukuna wants to teach you how to lose that fear.

Nerd!Sukuna, who just smirks at you when you complain loudly, "I can't do that! I am so bad at presenting things. I get all nervous and flustered, and then I mess up. Please do it yourself, Sukuna! You are so much better at this!"

Nerd!Sukuna, who tells you, "If you always run away from everything that scares you, you will never make it in life. So, nope. You will do your part. But aren't you such a lucky girl that you have me as your teacher?"

Nerd!Sukuna, who makes you stand in front of his fridge and practice your presentation over and over again while Sukuna sits on the kitchen chair, long muscular legs spread, tattooed arms crossed in front of his broad chest, occasionally pushing his glasses up as he watches you with an amused expression on his tattooed face, providing a brutal but honest opinion and actually helpful advice.

Nerd!Sukuna, who isn't just an overly critical and perfectionist asshole, but also someone who gives praise when he thinks it is deserved. And you, his cute little assignment partner, really deserve it. Sukuna walks over to you, stopping in front of you with a broad grin, "You did really well, princess. I'm proud of you."

Nerd!Sukuna, who wonders why your pupils look so blown out all of a sudden when you tilt your head to look up at him, stuttering in a slightly breathless voice, "Th... thank you. You were a really good teacher."

Nerd!Sukuna, who laughs and pets your hair as he smirks at you, saying something about how he could teach you lots of other things, too. Not sure anymore whether he is still just teasing you or if he really means it in a sexual way.

Nerd!Sukuna, who realizes he has a little big problem when he starts noticing the way your tits get pushed up and almost spill out of your shirt when you press a stack of books against them. Or when he loses his thread because you decided to wear a sexy little skirt, and now Sukuna can't stop thinking about how cute it would look if you were bouncing on his cock while still wearing that little skirt. Or when you suck on your stupid Hello Kitty pen, and Sukuna can't help but imagine how those sweet glossy lips of yours would feel wrapped around his cock instead.

Nerd!Sukuna, who tries to suppress those thoughts though, not wanting to mess this assignment up.

Nerd!Sukuna, who feels like encountering a world boss in a computer game, when you have a breakdown at his kitchen table, the evening before your presentation, crying and sobbing because you are nervous and convinced you will fuck up. And suddenly, Sukuna finds himself comforting you, gently caressing your arms with his large hands while murmuring reassurance to you. "Hey, stop being a brat. I know you can do it. You learned from the best, after all, didn't you, princess? And you got me. Just look at me the whole time, ok? Nothing bad can happen when you just look at me."

Nerd!Sukuna, who is surprised by how protective he feels over you at that moment. You are sitting in front of him looking like a wet cat, with your eyes all red and swollen from crying and snot running out of your nose, but somehow you still look so fucking cute to him, and somehow you make him so much softer and less rational than he usually is.

Nerd!Sukuna, who sighs and growls, "Oh, just come here." sounding annoyed but contradicting it by pulling you into his strong arms and holding you until you feel ok again. Sukuna still complains that you got his shirt wet with your tears, but his words lack the bite.

Nerd!Sukuna, who is genuinely proud of how much you improved when he watches your part of the presentation the next day. He even catches himself smiling a real smile at you when he congratulates you after class.

Nerd!Sukuna, who experiences a strange fluttery feeling in his stomach when you smile back at him and put your small hand on his tattooed biceps, "Thank you, Sukuna. It was really nice working with you."

Nerd!Sukuna, who manages a "same," but then just stands before you, opening his mouth and closing it again, not knowing what else to say because there are too many thoughts racing through his mind, and all of them seem to be too honest. And you do the same, shuffling around shyly, looking at him with wide eyes, parting your lips, but no words come out. And so both of you just lift a hand in an awkward farewell gesture and leave on opposite sides of the hallway.

Nerd!Sukuna, who tries to tell himself he is glad that your assignment is over and he can work in solitude again but then ends up staring longingly at the empty chair at his kitchen table, where you used to sit those last few weeks.

Aww Sukuna, do you miss us? ;)

I AM VERY ATTRACTED TO HIM AAAHHHH please, Kuna, tell me more about history and physics and every other subject that there is!!! You are so sexy!! 😘😘

Winn's fanart of Nerdkuna made me swoon so much and fall in love with him, and I always picture him as being at the top of classes anyway, so I think it was really time to finally write about him living his best nerdy life.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the headcanons! I will post Part 2 in a few days 💗 Will Kuna find a way to get us back onto his kitchen chair?

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!

Here is Part 2

#sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna smut #sukuna #sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk smut #jjk x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk x y/n

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linoxpudding · 17 days ago

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Intern (Pt 2)- Lee Know

summary: he's back to sending mixed signals, and you figured he was just playing hard to get — until you overhear something that breaks your heart

pairing: lee know x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, humor

word count: 3940 words

a/n: the drama just started 😈

Intern Series: Part One Part Three

~°~

You walked into the dressing room the next morning humming under your breath, arms full of accessories and heart full of joy. Last night felt like something shifted. Minho wasn’t just polite—he’d been soft. Protective. The kind of soft that lingered in your head long after the car door shut behind you.

You still hadn’t stopped thinking about the way he told you to text when you got inside. The way he opened your door without a word. The way his voice went quiet when he said “You shouldn’t have to.” And okay, fine, maybe you replayed the moment a few too many times while brushing your teeth last night. Whatever.

But when you walked into the dressing room, all giddy and warm, you looked around to spot Minho, and you found him already there. Sitting on the couch. Hoodie up. Headphones in.

But he didn’t notice you yet.

You approached him. “Morning,” you said, trying not to sound too chipper.

No reply.

You blinked. Okay, maybe he didn’t hear you. That had to be it. You moved past him, setting the jewelry boxes down on the counter, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Ten minutes later, the boys trickled in one by one. The usual chaos returned: Han trying to convince someone to go get coffee, Jeongin dramatically flopping onto the floor like he hadn’t slept in three days, and Felix complimenting your earrings like the angel he was.

But Minho was still silent.

Your stomach dipped a little. Maybe he didn’t sleep well. Maybe he was tired.

You tried to shake it off. You had racks to sort, accessories to label, a schedule to follow. But every time you glanced over—hoping for one of those almost-smiles, or even a sarcastic jab—there was nothing.

No teasing. No eye contact. No trace of the soft-spoken boy who opened your door last night like it meant something.

Just silence. Cold, distant, silence.

And it hurt more than you wanted to admit.

You were mid-lint rolling Hyunjin’s jacket when he raised a perfectly arched brow at you. “You’re weirdly quiet today,” he said, cocking his head. “Usually you don’t shut up.”

“Gee, thanks.”

He smirked. “It’s Minho hyung, isn’t it?”

You froze. Busted. “…No?”

“Oh my god,” Hyunjin gasped suddenly, “you’re upset because Minho hyung went back to being an emotionally constipated statue today, aren’t you?”

You made a face, but didn’t deny it. “He was just… nice last night. And now it’s like I dreamed the whole thing.”

Hyunjin’s grin softened into something gentler. “He’s like that. You know, weird about feelings. But he’s so into you.”

You snorted. “Yeah, sure.”

“No, really. You didn’t see the way he looked at you last night. He gave you literal heart eyes.”

“Hyunjin.”

“Heart. Eyes.” He mimicked exaggerated blinking, batting his lashes dramatically. “It’s disgusting, honestly.”

You blushed, swatting at his arm. “Shut up.”

“Nope.” He leaned in closer, whispering with a devilish smirk. “He acts all cool but the second you’re not looking? He turns into a blushing schoolboy.”

You laughed despite yourself. “You’re delusional.”

“Pot, meet kettle,” Hyunjin said smugly.

What neither of you noticed was the way Minho’s eyes flicked up from behind his phone just then. He hadn’t really been listening to music. Not the whole time. He watched the way Hyunjin leaned close to you. Watched how you blushed, how you smiled and his jaw clenched.

He wasn’t mad. Not really.

But something burned beneath his skin. Something he didn’t want to name. Because Hyunjin had no business making you laugh like that. And you had no business smiling like that when it wasn’t at him.

He stood up abruptly, pulling down his hoodie and tossing his phone onto the couch.

“Hyunjin,” he said coolly. “Go bother someone else.”

You both turned. Hyunjin raised a brow. “Jealous, hyung?”

Minho didn’t reply. Just shot him a look so sharp it could cut glass. Then he turned to you. His voice was quieter. More clipped, “I need someone to check the hem on my pants. Now.”

Your brows rose. “You could’ve said please.”

Minho didn’t say anything as he turned and walked toward the fitting area, not waiting to see if you’d follow.

Hyunjin gave you a look, mouthing: “Told you.”

*******************

Over the next few days, it became a rhythm — you and Hyunjin, laughing and teasing like you’d been friends for years. He was your anchor, your safe space, your daily source of sanity in the whirlwind of tight schedules and wardrobe emergencies.

And Minho was the ghost in the background.

Always there. Never speaking. But watching.

Like the fire behind frosted glass — hidden, but hot enough to burn.

One evening, you and Hyunjin were messing around in the dressing room. You were trying to braid his hair and failing spectacularly, fingers tangled in his strands as he made dramatic noises of suffering.

“I’m telling you,” he said through fake gritted teeth, “if I end up looking like a medieval knight, I’m blaming you.”

You giggled. “You’re the one who said ‘make me look cool.’”

“I meant ‘K-pop cool,’ not ‘Game of Thrones!’”

You were both laughing so hard you didn’t hear Minho come in — not until you looked up and saw him standing by the mirror, silent.

His eyes weren’t on you. Not quite.

But they weren’t not on you either.

And when they flicked to Hyunjin’s head in your lap, something darkened in them. Just for a split second. So quick you almost thought you imagined it.

Then, as if nothing happened, he turned away and busied himself with tying his shoelaces.

Later that night, Hyunjin caught you in the hallway outside the rehearsal room.

“You saw it, didn’t you?” he said, eyes glinting.

You hesitated, voice low. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Hyunjin tilted his head, voice dropping. “You really don’t see it, do you?”

“See what?”

He gave you a little half-smile. “The way he watches us.”

You sighed. “He doesn’t care, Jinnie. If he did, he’d—say something. Or look at me. Or literally anything other than act like I’m invisible”

“He’s not ignoring you,” Hyunjin said, voice quiet but firm. “He’s jealous.”

You stared at him. “No, he’s not.”

Hyunjin nodded once. “Yes. He. Is.”

You scoffed. “He barely looks at me.”

“Exactly,” Hyunjin said. “He doesn’t look at you. He looks at us.”

You fell silent.

Because now that you thought about it… there were moments.

The way Minho’s jaw clenched whenever Hyunjin slung an arm around your shoulder. The way he always seemed to pass behind you both during breaks, never saying a word — but never not hovering. The way his eyes flicked to your hand when you high-fived Hyunjin during a particularly challenging fitting day.

It was subtle. So subtle that if Hyunjin hadn’t pointed it out, you might’ve missed it.

But now you can't unsee it. Maybe…he was just playing hard to get?

It didn’t make sense. The attention was there, sure. But so was the silence. And it was driving you insane. You’d run through every possible reason in your head. Maybe he was shy. Maybe he didn’t know how to talk to you. Maybe he thought you weren’t interested. Or maybe—just maybe—Minho was the kind of person who liked to watch from the sidelines. The kind who observed before acting. The kind who kept his cards pressed so tightly to his chest, you’d never even know he was playing the same game.

Still, it was hard not to feel a little stupid. How were you supposed to respond to someone who barely acknowledged your existence, but also managed to show up in every moment you looked back on? He didn’t talk to you. He didn’t flirt. He didn’t even smile.

But he looked.

And sometimes a look can say everything. Or nothing at all.

And you were stuck in the space between.

*******************

A few days later, you were rushing through the studio hallway, arms full of borrowed garments, when the floor betrayed you. Your foot caught on a loose shoelace, the tile beneath you slick enough to tip the odds. You lost your balance—but before you could fall, a hand caught you.

Minho’s arm caught you at the waist, pulling you upright in one smooth motion. Your hands landed on his chest instinctively, and for a second—just a second—your entire world narrowed to that single point of contact.

His hoodie was soft. His grip was firm. And you could feel his heart beating against your palm.

“Careful,” he muttered, voice low.

You blinked up at him, wide-eyed. “I—uh—thanks.”

He didn’t let go right away. You didn’t move either.

His gaze flicked to your lips, just once, before snapping back to your eyes. His arm slowly dropped from your waist like he was pulling away from something dangerous.

And then, like always—he took a step back. Closed himself off.

“You should double-knot your laces,” he said. Cool. Detached.

But his ears were red.

You stood frozen for a moment after he walked away, still clutching the jacket to your chest like it could steady your heartbeat.

And you couldn’t help but think: What the hell was that?

That night, you told Hyunjin everything.

The hallway. The catch. The look. The voice.

“…and he said I should double-knot my laces,” you finished, flopping dramatically on the couch in the corner of the lounge.

Hyunjin raised a brow. “He caught you like a K-drama lead and all you took from that was advice about shoelaces?”

You groaned. “That’s the thing! He was so soft. And then he wasn’t. It’s like—he lets me in for half a second, then walls slam back up.”

Hyunjin grinned. “He’s not playing hard to get. He is hard to get.”

“But why?” you whispered.

Hyunjin tilted his head. “Maybe you scare him.”

You looked at him, startled. “Me?”

“Yeah. You got under his skin, Y/Nie. And he doesn’t know what to do with that.”

You didn’t say anything.

But that night, when you lay in bed, you couldn’t stop replaying the way Minho’s hand felt around your waist. The way he looked at you like the moment was slipping between his fingers and he didn’t know whether to let it go—or hold on tighter.

You were starting to wonder—

If he truly cared then why was he keeping you at a distance? Why was he leaving you standing in the middle, breathless and unsure.

*******************

The next morning, you showed up to the studio a little earlier than usual, a box of cupcakes balanced in your arms. Just a small gesture—something lighthearted to brighten the mood for the team.

You’d gotten everyone’s favorite, or tried to. Hyunjin liked anything with strawberry. The stylists preferred classic vanilla. And Han, bless his sugar addiction, would eat anything with frosting.

You remember that Han had mentioned once casually, in the backseat of a van after a long schedule, Minho liked coffee-flavored desserts. “Bittersweet. Just like him,” Han had joked.

So you bought that one for him.

When you found him backstage, adjusting his in-ears, you smiled and held out the small cupcake box.

“Hey,” you said softly. “Brought these for everyone. Got you coffee—figured you might like—”

Before you could finish, he glanced at the box, then at you. And just… walked past.

No thank you. No smile. Not even a word.

Your hand slowly lowered. The box felt heavier now, like it was filled with something far more delicate than frosting.

You stood there for a second, trying not to let it sting too much. But it did. It really did.

“Hey,” a voice said gently behind you.

You turned to find Han, eyes soft with concern. “You okay?”

You gave him a too-quick smile. “Yeah. Totally. It’s just… cupcakes.”

Han tilted his head. “You’re doing that thing.”

You blinked. “What thing?”

“That thing where you pretend you’re okay but your eyes look like you’re seconds away from crying or committing crimes.”

You let out a watery laugh.

“I don’t get it,” you whispered. “You were there that night. In the car. After dinner. He was so… soft. And sweet. I thought we had a moment.”

Han nodded. “You did.”

Your breath caught.

“I don’t know what happened after that,” you sighed.

Han sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Minho hyung isn’t good at… feelings. He gets all tangled up.”

“I think he just doesn’t care..” You say softly.

Han’s voice softened. “He cares, Y/N. That’s obvious. But he’s scared of something. Or maybe someone. I don’t know what it is, but it’s not you. He’s just being immature.”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t know how to.

Instead, you looked down at the cupcake in your hand. Bittersweet. Just like him.

*******************

A few more days passed. You kept your distance. He kept his.

Until one day, you were sitting on the floor of the practice room, your back resting against the mirror, scrolling through your camera roll to find a look reference for Seungmin’s next fitting. Your phone slipped from your fingers and landed just out of reach, face-down on the floor.

Before you could reach for it, a hand picked it up.

You looked up.

Minho.

He didn’t say anything as he handed it back, but his fingers brushed yours a second too long. And when your eyes met—just for a heartbeat—he didn’t look away.

Instead, he said, “You always sit in weird spots.”

You blinked. “You always sneak up like a cat.”

A faint smirk curved his lips. “Not my fault you don’t pay attention.”

“You’re literally wearing black head to toe,” you pointed out.

“So?”

“So you’re blending in with the floor.”

That made him huff a quiet laugh, the smallest one, the kind that slipped past his defenses before he could stop it.

He stood up again, brushing off his sweats. “Tell Seungmin not to wear the green pants again. They make him look like broccoli.”

You blinked, surprised.

“…You looked at my fitting sketches?”

He paused, just briefly.

Then, without turning around, he said, “Maybe.”

And walked off. Leaving you there. Your heart stuttered again. You shook your head, shutting your eyes for a second:

No. No, don’t do this again.

You were overthinking. He was just being kind. A little snarky, a little soft—just like he was with everyone else when he felt like it.

You swallowed the feeling, shoved it deep down like you planned to do from now on because you had an internship to do.

*******************

The morning started off chaotic—as usual. Wardrobe racks rolled across the studio like stampedes, stylists barked directions over the hum of hairdryers, and members of Stray Kids floated in and out like it was their second home. You were stationed near the fitting mirrors, adjusting a lineup of outfit pieces for their next music video shoot.

“Jinnie,” you called, scanning the list, “You’re supposed to be in the deep red set first.”

Hyunjin peeked from behind a clothing rack, his freshly styled hair falling into his eyes. “Bestieee,” he whined playfully, “Can’t I do the black one first? It makes my collarbones look expensive.”

You grinned. “Everything on you looks expensive.”

“See? That’s why you’re my favorite.” He leaned in, wrapping his arms around you from behind in an overly dramatic hug.

You laughed, gently swatting his hands off. “Get changed before I make you wear crocs on set.”

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of dark eyes were watching.

Minho stood across the room, sipping from a coffee cup, his expression stoic. His gaze lingered far longer than he meant it to—on the easy way you smiled with Hyunjin, the way you adjusted his lapel with delicate fingers, and how Hyunjin whispered something in your ear that made you cover your mouth to stifle a laugh.

“You’re glaring,” Seungmin said beside him, startling him.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

Seungmin turned to him, raising a brow. “Hyung, you literally flinched when she touched Hyunjin’s wrist.”

“I didn’t flinch.”

“You sipped your coffee so aggressively it sounded like a threat.”

Minho huffed and turned away, but not before taking one last look—only to find you already looking at him.

Your eyes met. A flicker passed between you. But this time you looked away first.

*******************

There was a cozy get-together at the director’s place to mark the successful release of the latest album. The director’s house was a lot bigger than you’d expected.

Wide hallways, glowing sconces, too many rooms to count. It was the kind of place where even the chaos of an afterparty looked sophisticated. Staff mingled with band members, producers lounged by the kitchen island, and someone was already halfway through a bottle of wine they didn’t remember bringing.

You walked in with Hyunjin who was dressed in casual jeans and a satin shirt he stole from the last concept shoot. You’d changed into a casual-but-cute outfit before coming—a ribbed sweater, jeans that hugged you just right, and your favorite earrings because why not? Tonight wasn’t about work. Tonight was about breathing.

You’d barely stepped through the threshold before Han was pulling you toward the backyard with a grin, Jeongin trailing behind with a bag of chips.

“You’re late,” Han teased, pulling you to a proper hug. “We almost started a search party for you.”

“Oh please,” you said, hugging him back. “You would’ve forgotten I existed the second the snack table called your name.”

Jeongin gasped. “She knows you too well, hyung.”

“I feel attacked,” Han pouted dramatically.

Hyunjin chuckled before asking you, “Drink?”

“Please,” you said with a dramatic sigh. “Something strong enough to erase the madness of this week.”

“Relatable,” Hyunjin said with a sigh, already making his way toward the makeshift bar in the kitchen.

The rest of the three of you found a spot near the patio lights, the night cool but comfortable. Laughter bubbled from the kitchen and music hummed low from the living room speakers. You leaned against the railing, soaking in the rare chance to just be.

“Where’s the rest of the chaos crew?” you asked.

“Oh, you mean Mr. Lee Minho?” Han said, raising his brows, voice laced with mischief.

You blinked. “I didn’t say that—”

“Don’t lie,” Jeongin chimed in. “We’ve all seen the looks.”

Han gave you a knowing smirk. “She’s blushing.”

“I’m not!” You covered your face with your hands, heat blooming in your cheeks. “I hate you.”

“You love me,” he sing-songed.

You groaned, covering your face. “Shut up, both of you.”

“Hey, I’m your wingman, let me work,” Han laughed. “Operation MinY/N is in progress.”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks burning. “You guys are the worst,” you mumbled, laughing despite your embarrassment. “I need a second, I’ll be right back.”

You headed up the stairs to catch your breath, maybe splash some cold water on your face, heart still fluttering from the teasing. The hallway upstairs was quieter. As you passed the hallway toward the bathroom, you paused—voices were coming from the slightly ajar game room door. You recognized them instantly.

Minho. Changbin. Chan. Seungmin.

You were about to walk past until your name caught your attention.

“Y/N flirts too much,” Minho said. “It’s kind of… annoying.”

Your heart stopped. You froze.

“What?” Changbin asked, sounding confused.

Inside, the soft clack of billiard balls echoed between words—they were in the middle of a pool game.

“She does it with everyone,” Minho continued, his voice laced with annoyance. “Me, Hyunjin… always with the teasing and touches and little comments. It’s kinda exhausting.”

They were talking about you.

“She’s just being friendly,” Changbin added quietly. “Y/N’s like that with everyone— kind and nice.”

There was a pause, another faint clack of billiard balls. Then Minho again, his tone sharper now.

“I get it, she’s nice, but it’s like—God—she’s always laughing too loud, always trying to be near me. I just want some peace but she’s everywhere. It's like she doesn’t know when to back off?” A low, frustrated sigh followed. “She’s constantly hovering around me, it’s suffocating.”

“She’s not—” Seungmin started, but Minho cut him off.

“I don’t know how many times I have to make it clear,” Minho said with a huff. “Can’t she take the hint? I’m not interested. She’s just too much.”

Your breath hitched.

“That’s enough, Minho.” Chan’s voice warned, firmly.

“I’m just being honest,” Minho muttered, softer now. Defensive.

You didn’t hear the rest.

Your fingers were trembling as you pushed the door open.

Four heads snapped toward you. Minho’s face went pale in an instant. Seungmin’s mouth parted in shock. Changbin winced, shoulders tense.

Chan looked straight at you—regret already etched into his features.

“I…” Your throat was dry. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I was just looking for the bathroom.”

You looked at Minho, who wouldn’t meet your eyes.

You took a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry,” you said, voice even, though you could feel the crack forming beneath it. “I didn’t mean to make anyone uncomfortable. I must’ve crossed a line. It won’t happen again.”

The silence was unbearable.

You turned and walked away before anyone could say anything else.

You weren’t even sure how you got from the hallway to the staircase — only that you needed out.

Your legs moved on autopilot, shoes clacking against marble, breath catching in your throat as you blinked up at the ceiling to keep tears from spilling.

But just as you rounded the corner, out of view, the voices inside the room shifted.

“Bro, what the hell was that?” Chan’s tone was sharp, a rare edge to it.

“You didn’t have to say it like that,” Changbin added, voice lower. “You know she doesn’t flirt with everyone. She’s been into you since day one, and you know it.”

There was a pause, like even Minho didn’t have an answer for that.

“She’s not fake, Minho hyung. You just don’t know how to handle when someone actually gives a shit,” Seungmin muttered.

*******************

Outside the hallway, you gripped the railing of the dimly lit staircase, trying to suck in a breath without falling apart.

And that’s when you heard someone’s footsteps behind you.

“Y/N?”

You turned slightly — and there was Felix, his brows immediately pinching in concern when he saw your eyes.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, voice gentle, hand reaching out as if to comfort you.

But you shook your head quickly, forcing a small, broken smile.

“I’m okay,” you lied. “I… I just need to leave. I’m sorry.”

You brushed past him, blinking furiously.

“Y/N?” Hyunjin’s voice echoed.

You froze.

He was rushing down the steps, expression worried and confused, scanning your face — and when he saw your eyes shimmering with unshed tears, his jaw clenched.

“What happened?” he asked, softer this time, eyes darting behind you like he was trying to find the cause.

You couldn’t speak. You shook your head again, more desperate this time.

“I’m driving you,” he declared immediately, already pulling out his keys.

“No,” you whispered. “Please, Hyunjin… I just want to be alone, I’ll just…go home.”

That cracked something in him.

You’d never refused him like that. Not once.

“But you’re—” He stopped himself. “You’re crying. Just let me—”

You stepped back.

“Please,” you said, your voice barely a breath now. “I don’t want to talk. Not now.”

He didn’t chase you, even though he desperately wanted to. So, he watched you go, heart pounding, throat tight — a thousand questions and a single truth ringing in his head:

You weren’t okay.

And someone dared to break your heart tonight.

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

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madwomansapologist · 7 months ago

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──────〃✰ KINKTOBER DAY 1: 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏 𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐑

title: poker face synopsis: luckily, mr. zero didn't knew you were a mugiwara. luckily, mr. zero fell for your bluffs. unfortunately, you never imagined it would be that hard to not fall for crocodile's charm. [3.1K] cw: mugiwara!fem!reader, strip poker, strip tease, public sex, cock crush, nipple stimulation, size difference, fingering (f!receiving), riding, biting, scratching, finger sucking, p in v, creampie, possessive behavior, mob boss meets a baddie, pussy so good he wonders about marriage.

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With a thick cigar between his teeth, Crocodile forced himself to smile. “Five of a kind”, he dropped his cards on the table. “Seems like the house won. Again.”

Crocodile’s presence in Rain Dinners works to reinforce his reputation as a hero in this wretched island. Unfortunately, it also means Crocodile is tormented by the most boring clientele.

To watch someone gambling everything they own out of delusional hope and losing it all because of sheer mischance is only interesting the first few hundreds of times. Now, all Crocodile feels is disdain.

He curses those vermin that stole the joy of victory.

Murmuring complaints, two bettors left the table. The croupier stretched his arm, reaching for the cards left far away from him. As the cards were shuffled, Crocodile took in the chance to observe the tables nearby. Searching for chaos to be dealt with, such a common occurrence in a casino, an unusual sight stole his attention.

A long, thick, light pelted fur coat. Crocodile inhaled the smoke, holding it in. Admiring you with that coat over your shoulders, no one would’ve imagined this is the middle of a desert. And still, you didn’t break a sweat.

One of the bettors decided it was the right moment to thank Crocodile for his protection over Alabasta. He did his best to sound modest, heroic. To embody the last hope of this dying island. The moment a white blur entered his peripheral vision, Crocodile simply ignored the man’s existence.

With a hand over the chair’s top rail, you stared directly at the croupier. “May I?”, you asked, voice sultry as the desert.

Crocodile took the cigar out of his mouth, releasing the smoke in the direction opposite from you. “Made just in time”, he moved his hand towards the croupier ready to start. “Do you know how to play, hon’?”

You took a sip from your glass, not bothering to answer him. Placing your coat over the chair’s rail, you reached inside its pocket and took the poker chip’s box. You left it open on the table, emerald dress moving on your body as you sat down and crossed your legs.

The box was filled to the brim.

Your lack of interest on him ignited something within Crocodile. Curiosity. Something far more interesting than gambling against weak bluffs. “New to poker?”, Crocodile smiled devilish. The sort of smile that make pretty women like you forget about decency.

If only you had looked at him.

“New to this island”, you answered, sounding as bored as Crocodile was before you got there. The way you danced around his question was enough for him to know you didn’t want the others to think of you as an easy target. Usually, Crocodile would simply profit on it. This time, with you staring straight into his eyes, he couldn’t care less about this game. “Is it worth?”

“It will be.”

A promise Crocodile intended to fulfill.

Feeling his gaze burning your skull, to not smile was never so difficult. If you were weaker, you would’ve laugh until your cheeks fell apart from your face. How funny. How alluring. Ah, Luffy really told you the truth.

Your life will be funnier around me, Luffy gave you the brightest smile you ever saw. Stroking your cheek, he cleaned the trace of tears. I will never let you get bored.

A Shichibukai stands before you, unable to see you as part of the threat he is so interest in dealing with. The man that sent thousands of bounty hunters after your crew, that forced Vivi to witness as unnecessary violence tore her nation in pieces, doesn’t even know that you’re part of the group he wants to exterminate.

Good. That means the plan of distracting Crocodile has a chance of working.

Each bettor made an initial contribution for the deal to start. At every round, you raised the amount of chips. It didn’t matter if others were dropping out of the deal or if Crocodile doubled the bet with no hesitance. You simply continued to bet more.

That was alluring. It told more about you than your pretty lips could. You’re not here to make money. You’re not here to waste it. You’re here for amusement. And that Crocodile can give you any time.

“Showdown”, the croupier called. “Please, bettors, show your hands.”

The woman sitting beside you sighed, showing two pairs. Two bettors had dropped out, choosing to wait until the next deal. You placed your cards on the table. 4, 3, K, 10, 10. One pair. “Does that mean anything?”

The first man to drop out chuckled. “Only that you lost.”

Lost in the way your smile spread across your face, the croupier had to remind Crocodile it was his time to show the cards. “Three of a kind”, he murmured. This time, he put no effort into acting as if he cared that he won. Crocodile just wanted to learn more about you. “Do you know the rules?”

“Does it really matter?”, your bright smile was enough to enlighten the whole place. As the croupier changed the card sets, you gave him your solely attention. “The best liar wins at the end.”

“No surprise you haven’t won yet”, Crocodile smirked. He spread his legs, cigar between his fingers. His golden hook glistened, reminding you of the threat he represented simply by breathing. “It’s so easy to see right through you.”

But not to see how I stole all those chips from you, was what you thought. “Seems like a failure of mine”, was what you said out loud.

With a movement of his hand, a waiter approached. Crocodile whispered into his ear; eyes still fixated on you. Intoxicated on his presence, you forgot to look away. What a tempting man. From then on, your glass never remained empty.

Deal after deal, you continued to lose just as Crocodile continued to win. Deal after deal, you continued to answer just as Crocodile continued to ask.

Until there were only you two left at the casino. You let go of your glass and closed the poker chip’s box, raising from the chair. “Should have expected a pirate to be a good gambler.” You took your coat, walking away from the table. “Have a good night, Crocodile.”

“One last deal?” Crocodile was quick to offer. Desperately, you would add. “And then we call it.”

You raised the empty box. “I have nothing left to bet.”

And at that, Crocodile saw his last chance of amusing you. “Then let’s bet everything we have.”

Sat down again, chin supported by your palm, you frowned. The wine had started to affect you both. “And by that you mean…”

“Everything”, Crocodile spread his legs, resting his hook on his thick thigh. You told yourself he was begging for you to stare, but you weren’t that sure of it. “Every chip on this table. Everything on our bodies.”

As he closed his mouth, a part of Crocodile feared his proposition would offend you. It doesn’t happen often, but there is a chance he misread your signals.

“I’ve been eyeing your rings since I sat here”, you wondered out loud. “Just as you been eyeing my dress.”

But to be so straight to the point… Crocodile wasn’t quite expecting that. It was what he wanted, but to see how you two were connected made harder for him to breath.

Then you sighed.

“As tempting as it is,” and you were standing again. Crocodile hated to see that. He would hate even more to see you leaving. “It is also getting late. Like I said, I’m new to this island.”

“You have nothing to fear”, Crocodile bargained. “Not when I’m around.”

“But you won’t be around on my way back to the hotel.”

“Then stay here”, he offered. You arched an eyebrow. “I don’t intent on letting you walk away that easily. I’m a pirate. I’m used to taking what I want for myself.”

For an eternity, you both stared into each other’s eyes. A silent negotiation. His final offering, your final chance of doing the right thing and walking away from danger. You could see his very soul. How it burned just beneath the surface. Crocodile felt the same heat coming from you.

The croupier forced a cough, remind you of his presence. It took much of his strength for Crocodile to not kill him right then and there.

“Shuffle the cards and leave”, you ordered.

He obeyed. Quickly. You both took a look at your cards sets. A smile died within you. A smirk grew on Crocodile’s face. The moment the croupier closed the exit door, Crocodile showed his hand.

Crocodile looked even bigger than he already was, filled with the confidence of a winner. “Four of a kind.”

Dropping your hand on the table, you were the winner he believed to be. “Royal flush”, you smiled. “Pretty sure that’s the highest since we’re not using any wild cards.”

Shock was a good look on Crocodile. After analyzing your cards, his gaze returned to you. “You said you didn’t know how to play.”

“Oh”, you drank the last sip from your glass. “Did I?”

And at your answer, all he could do was laugh. Crocodile ran his hand through his black hair. “You hustle me”, he whispered. Crocodile wasn’t able to get rid of this genuine smile.

Your laugh was real too. It made Crocodile breath in your scent, get drunk on the sweet sound coming from you. Not a bluff, not an act. It was real, and it only made you more beautiful. “And now you have a debt to pay.”

His face darkened, reminding you of who he is. You hustled Crocodile. You hustled Crocodile. You never thought of yourself as a stupid woman, but here you are. For fucks sake. Luffy really is rubbing on you.

Crocodile bended over the table, his broad shoulders creating a shadow over you. His hand grabbed your chair’s arm, his hook moving your chin upwards. A strand of hair fell in front of his orange eyes, and looking into them you felt like a powerless prey about to be ravished.

Face lurking inches above yours, Crocodile smiled devilish. A smile that made you forget about decency, focusing only on the promise of more of him. More of the man that wants to kill you. “Enjoy the show”, Crocodile whispered.

His blue scarf was the first to be throw away, and neither of you cared about where it would land. His long fingers worked on the buttons of the rumpled black-striped vest, so slowly you almost took it off of Crocodile by yourself.

The peach shirt beneath showed a portion of his wide chest and instead of finally getting rid of it, Crocodile held the leather belt around his waist.

He had so much fun teasing you, admiring how you couldn’t look away. A man as handsome must feel entitled to the silent praise. He really thought he was the one in charge, didn’t he? And for long enough, Crocodile was.

You’re a lot of things, but you’re not patient.

Leaning against the chair, you raised your leg. The silver heel brushed against his pants, from down on his ankle until the insides of his thigh. And when your painted nails shined right in front of his crotch, you forced your feet against it.

“Stop playing around.” Cocking your head, eyes explored his still covered up body. “Don’t make me wait.”

Crocodile grabbed your ankles, calloused hand stroking softly your skin. It wasn’t a rough touch, but not less possessive because of it. You put more pressure, making him groan. “You are insane.”

“And why is that?”

“Anyone else would fear me”, Crocodile’s voice reminded you of velvet and sharp knives. It lingered on your ears. “And here you are. Demanding more.”

You sighed, fingers brushing against your lips. That voice… it was your last straw. Fighting his hold, you put your foot down on the ground. You grabbed his shirt, pushing him back until Crocodile sat down on his chair again.

He opened his mouth as you sat down on his lap, but you gave him no time to do anything. “You talk too much.”

Holding the chair’s top rail as leverage, you dive into him. Tooth biting his lower lip, tongue forcing a passage into his warm mouth. Your free hand found a spot on his large neck, bringing Crocodile closer to you. Instead of waiting, you took what you wanted for yourself.

Just like a pirate would.

She isn’t fragile, Crocodile thought. She won’t break.

Sinking into you, Crocodile forgot about self-control. He simply ravished you, just like you demanded of him. A wild animal and nothing more. Exploring your mouth as if it was his to control, hand grabbing your soft skin without a care about finesse or decorum. Crocodile pressed his hook against your chest, enjoying how it didn’t stop you from moving as you wanted to.

You got him out of that stupidly tight shirt, hands scratching his chest as your hips moved on top of his crotch. He forced you down, putting your whole weight upon himself, and ripped your emerald dress into pieces with his hook.

“You’ll pay for this one.”

It was a complain, but your fingers working to unbutton his pants made clear you couldn’t care less. His kisses travelled to your neck, tongue leaving a trail of drool on your shoulder, mouth closing against your nipples. Your fingers intertwined with his hair, encouraging Crocodile to continue.

“I will get you anything you want”, he said, voice muffled. He couldn’t get away from your body to speak. “You burn hotter than the fuckin desert.”

No shame, no hesitation. Freed from his pants, you licked your palm before grabbing his cock. You pumped him with zero delicacy, thumb pressing against the dark, sensitive head. Just like everything in Crocodile, it was big enough to make you wonder.

As if he could read you mind, Crocodile slid his hand into your panties. Long fingers explored your lips, precise with every movement. Thumb pressing against your clit, two fingers against your wet slit. His hook brushed against your thigh, arm locking around you to press you down on his fingers.

Your loud moan embarrassed your very soul, but all Crocodile did was laugh. His teeth closed around your neck, biting hard enough to make you whimper. That’ll mark you for sure. “Ride me, hon’.”

With your nails deep into his back, you stretched yourself on Crocodile’s fingers. You bit his earlobe, brushing your face against his as you speed up your movements. In your hand, his cock throbbed. Crocodile was leaking, burning in the same way you do.

“Take what you want”, you whispered against his ear. “Fuck me already.”

It happened so quickly, you barely understood how he moved. A second before you were on his lap, two fingers deep into your hungry cunt, lips around his ear. Then you were sat on the table, poker chips falling on the floor, Crocodile standing between your legs.

A fucking monster.

Crocodile took his drenched fingers from you, and wasted no time before sucking them clean. He grabbed your thighs, exposing yourself from him. “She’s delicious”, Crocodile stared at your pussy. His fingers pulled your lips apart. “Will get me addicted to her.”

Using your legs, you got him even closer to you. Crocodile grabbed your hair, pulling you into a messy kiss. Fighting against your tongue, he fit the head of his cock into you. You moaned into his mouth.

Moving your heels against his thighs, you forced him inside of you. A stupid decision. Your head collapsed against his shoulder, the entirety of his length touching all the right places. So good, so right, so… much.

Crocodile wasn’t in that much of a better situation. Eyes closes tightly, lips hanging open as a deep cry escaped. So wet, so warm. Moving slowly, Crocodile chortled. He had no control over his mind anymore.

“Don’t you dare stopping”, you manage to say. “Just… fu-fuck, just like that.”

Deep thrusts as his fingers worked on your clit: Crocodile wouldn’t dream of doing anything other than you wanted. He could feel your drool gathering on his shoulder. How your fingers were deep into his forearms, or how the hold of your legs around his waist weakened.

All Crocodile wanted was to make you as addicted to him as he already was to you. To get you to scream his name, begging for more and more. He wanted you to take from him. To get what you wanted. And Crocodile wanted everything you could give him.

Feeling waves of pleasure washing over you, mind empty as a white canvas, you tilted your head back. Eyes half-open, you admired him. His raw lips, face covered in sweat. Marks of lipstick all over his chest, just as deep nail marks and surface scratched. You looked down, watching as he entered you.

“You are worth way more than eighty million.”

Crocodiled bended, tongue playing with your aching nipple. “After my head, hon’?”, he sucked on them. You stroked his hair, enjoying how primal Crocodile looked.

“Do I look insane?”, you moaned.

Crocodile looked into your eyes, face near yours. You placed your arms around his shoulders, but he held you in place. Crocodile simply looked at you. As if there was something new, something he never saw before.

“You do”, Crocodile whispered. It felt so intimate. For a moment, you weren’t being fucked in an empty casino. For a moment, you two were sharing a secret. “You’re perfect.”

You melted against him. Lost on your orgasm, you unlearned how to breath. The fact you couldn’t think didn’t stop Crocodile from kissing you. As you closed around him, Crocodile reached his limit. Tooth deep into your throat, he marked you again.

Tears formed behind your eyes, throat aching as you finally breathed again. You laid your head on his chest, feeling it rising with his unregulated breathes. A firm hand held your waist, his nose stopped in the union of your shoulder and neck. His biting hurt so good, just like your scratches on his skin.

When Crocodile opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was his hand holding onto the table. He looked at the fours rings you said caught your attention. And he saw how there was only one finger lacking a ring.

Insane, Crocodile thought. She’s making me insane.

As his hips moved away, a cry left your throat as he emptied your pussy, your legs finally stopped working. Crocodile took his cigar from the ashtray, smoking it for a few seconds. When he released the smoke, you grabbed his chin and made him face you. Inhaling it, you closed your eyes.

Not a second after you let it go, his hand and hook slid beneath your thighs. Effortlessly, Crocodile took you from the table. Your shaken legs closed around his waist as he carried you. “What you doing?”

Crocodile finally looked into your eyes again. He smiled, and it was genuinely. “Taking what I want for myself.”

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quillsandcravats · 3 months ago

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Have You Ever Tried This One? // Anthony Bridgerton x fem!Reader (18+)

Wanna try out some freaky positions? Have you ever tried this one?

Summary: When your husband, Lord Anthony Bridgerton, happens upon a book of erotic illustrations, he decides he wants to put them into action with you. Rating: 18+/explicit Word Count: 2.4k Warnings: smut, explicit sexual content MINORS DNI, m/f, light dom/sub undertones, doggystyle, dirty talk, praise kink, creampie/finishing inside mention. Crosspost: AO3, do not repost my fics anywhere! My Masterlist

A/N: Title and fic idea came from listening to the ovulation anthem Juno by Sabrina Carpenter! This is dedicated to my irl bestie @dorianellle who gave me some encouragement to write this. This is my first time writing smut in literally 3 years, please be gentle. Il Modi is a real book and was pretty much the Joy of Sex back in the day, but I haven't actually read it myself, so I took some creative liberties there.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

It was an early evening in Bridgerton House – a quiet, ordinary type of dusk, the type that your husband, Viscount Anthony Bridgeton, always found perfectly relaxing. It was rare for him to have such moments and thus, he revelled in it. The fireplace crackled softly, casting a golden glow over the opulently decorated sitting room.

Anthony had found himself looking through an old box of books left behind by his father, Edmund. It had not been properly sorted, even in all of the years since his passing. Anthony had figured there was no time like the present to see if there was anything of interest in the old crate. He grasped the dusty, leather-bound book in his hands, running a finger over the faded gold lettering on the cover. The worn edges and cracked spine told of years gone by, a faint scent of aged paper rising as he traced each letter.

The viscount let out an interested whisper as he read the title. “I Modi,’ Anthony murmured, which translates in Latin to The Ways. He wondered the ways of what, exactly, as curiosity pushed him further in.

His eyes widened as he began to thumb through the pages. Inside, a series of erotic drawings caught his attention. A sly, intrigued smirk crossed his dark features, his mind wandering immediately to you. The illustrations were artful, yet daring and tantalizing. He found himself stiffening at the thought of you in those positions, panting and mewing as he pounded into you.

A plan began to form in the Viscount’s mind.

A plan, he thought, that sounded dastardly fun.

You were seated in front of your vanity, running a brush over and over through your long hair. It was a normal part of your nighttime routine and brought you comfort. Truth be told, the nights since your wedding were truly quite…customary. You wondered if women dreamed of ordinary nights in their beds with their husbands or if other women were more like you, secretly wishing for something a bit more audacious.

You heard Anthony enter, turning to greet him. His handsomeness never failed to take you. It was a small pleasure to look him over; brown hair tousled just a bit, only left in a white dress shirt and black trousers, suspenders hanging at his sides. You saw that he had a book tucked under his arm, peaking out from the billowing white fabric of his shirt. His brown eyes twinkled with intent, yet held somewhat of a playful edge. You felt your stomach flip just a bit, mind wandering back to your desire for adventure in this room.

“Wife,” he grinned, holding up the brown book in his hand like a game trophy. Anthony leaned down, planting a chaste kiss on your lips. He sat down on the chaise lounge near you.

“Husband,” you let out a small smile, raising a suspicious brow. “What, pray tell, is on your mind? You appear to be in mischievous sorts.”

“I come baring something rather…educational, my darling.”

He handed you the book with an innocent air. You noticed, however angelic his tone, a devilish look blooming across his eyes. Inquisitiveness overcame you as you began flipping through the pages. You felt your cheeks turn crimson, looking at Anthony just for a moment. A few seconds then passed where you wondered if this was a jest.

You let out a girlish giggle, placing your dainty fingertips to your mouth. You were at once both amused and intrigued, yet admittedly a bit shocked. You had been raised with nothing but the most traditional of upbringings. In fact, you did not know the marital act could be pursued in such a way before casting your eyes on this book. Anthony respected you, and thus, your embrace was usually in the typical missionary as it had been since your wedding night – and not a moment sooner.

“What, pray tell, do you propose we do with such knowledge, my Lord?”

Anthony felt a twitch in his trousers. There was something about you calling him by his title that never failed to cause the blood to rush right to his cock.

“I want to test the accuracy of these illustrations. According to this book, these positions can be quite pleasurable for both man and his wife,” he breathed. You knew you were blushing now. There was no way you couldn’t be, not with the distinct feeling of a thump-thump-thump making itself clear in your pussy. Anthony reaches out, running his pointer finger along your collarbone. “I know you are so curious, my darling, about these things. Shall we try a lesson?”

He was coaxing you into his game, knowing you would soon melt under his guide and touch. You trusted Anthony implicitly. All you could do was nod as he walked you both over to the bed. You climbed in together, finding a comfortable position. You turned to him, allowing him to pull you into a gentle kiss. You leaned into the soft warmth of his lips and revelled as the kiss turned more passionate. Warmth bloomed across your chest as you parted, your eyes lingering into Anthony’s.

“Come,” he patted his chest, laying back on to the pillows. You smiled, moving to allow your head with your head against his body as he opened the book again.

He looked through the pages a bit, the only sound in the room was the paper turning and your breathing. You swore you heard him chuckle as he landed on one specific drawing. He ran his finger across the ink, guiding it along the woman’s breasts and down to her fully exposed vulva. You cocked your head to the side, realizing you had never truly looked at another woman’s body before.

“The female form…is captured in such an exquisite way here,” he whispered. “Although this woman, the subject, is no near as lovely as you.”

The viscount moved then, and you instinctually opened your legs wide, hiking your nightdress up to your hips. You shivered, feeling the pad of his finger run up and down your slit, over your hot core. It was obvious to you that you were growing increasingly drenched, a spot forming on the front of your bloomers. Anthony felt the dampness and took it as his cue to continue.

Anthony carried on with his slow, deliberate touches.

“I would like to reenact this… I want you bent over in front of me. On your knees,” he whispered again. The atmosphere of the room felt thick with desire. You feared if you didn’t remind yourself to breathe, you would forget.

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Tell me that is what you want.”

You glanced back to the picture. “I wish for you to…love me…fuck me. Like her.”

The sound of you speaking so filthily made Anthony want to completely abandon his plans and take you right there. You had never uttered that word before. It was a word his friends at Oxford used often, but not one he was used to coming from the pretty mouth of his wife.

Slowly, you both disrobed, Anthony limbered out of bed to rid himself of his shirt and trousers. You swore your mouth watered at the sight of his erect cock, proudly dripping with just a droplet of precum at the head.

“It appears you like what you see, my girl?” Anthony guided his hand up and down his length, running his thumb over his head, smearing the arousal there just a bit.

All you could do was nod. You were seated on the bed still, your dripping core fully on display for him, aching with want. He reached out, running two fingers down your slick folds. Anthony chuckled as he collected the arousal that had already pooled there. You gasped he slid his fingers into his mouth, sucking them with a loud pop. Without warning, he glided two fingers back into your cunt. You could see that his eyes were burning with desire at the truth that you were warm, tight, and deliciously wet for him. Your breath caught as he continued to thrust his first and middle fingers in and out, turning his wrist and coaxing them in a come-hither motion. It hit something deep within your core; a place you never knew existed.

“A-An..A..,” you mewed, pleasure pressing itself into you.

“That is My Lord,” he growled, but you see the playfulness in his eyes. “Tell the viscount what it is you need.”

“I need you, My Lord. Please.”

You felt a jolt of butterflies burst their way through your tummy as he smirked. You whimpered sadly as he removed his digits suddenly. You looked at them in the firelight glow, all sticky and wet with your desire for him. It was disgustingly erotic. You realized, in that moment, the nights in your bed chamber with your husband are about to change for good.

“On your knees,” he ordered. You didn’t have but a second to think before you obeyed him, moving so that your hands and knees were resting on the soft velvet of the duvet.

Anthony stood back a moment, palming his aching cock lightly as he drank in a good, long look at you. You looked perfect like this to him. Pussy on display, shining with arousal; breasts, swinging below you, hard nipples begging to be given attention. Your hair hung in long tendrils over your shoulder. You hoped in your mind you looked like the woman in the book, being claimed animalistically by her lover.

You turned your head, glancing back at him. “Is this what you desire, My Lord?”

Anthony moves around the bed, looking at you up and down. He was inspecting you like you are were a fine piece of art - a sculpture, even.

“A sweet creature you are,” he murmured. He reached out, giving your nipples a little twist and audibly chuckling as you whined. “It is almost perfect. But…back up. I need you closer to the edge of the bed,” Anthony’s voice came again, and you wiggled yourself back so you could meet him at the edge.

“Perfect, perfect,” his voice was barely audible as he reached down to land a soft smack on your ass. Now it was your turn to giggle, enjoying the way your cunt fluttered at the feeling of being spanked.

Anthony smiled as you looked back at him over your shoulder.

“I believe you should insert your cock, now, My Lord.”

He practically growled at your playfulness. He was standing, muscular legs apart, as he guided his thick and swollen cock into your waiting pussy.

He let out a grunt as a curse fell from his lips. “Damn it all, that’s my good girl.”

You only moaned in response. His praise caused something in you to only burn brighter. You pushed back, meeting his thrusts to bring his cock even further into you. It felt different this way, his cock stretching you out in a pleasurable but unfamiliar fashion. You felt yourself shudder as his hands clasped around your hips, fingernails digging into your supple skin.

“And then, it would appear that I would begin to fuck you this way,” he groaned, play-acting as if you were truly just conducting an experiment. He began slowly, bouncing your ass off of his hips. But then he began to rut faster, moving his hips upward to hit the sweetest of places inside of you.

“Touch your pearl,” he commanded, reaching out to put a hand in your hair. You used your free hand to steady your body as you reached down to find your clit. You rubbed in circles, the overwhelm of his pulsating member in your wetness and his hand in your hair pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy. “Touch yourself for me.”

Anthony was attentive yet teasing, mirroring the sensuality of the artwork you had looked upon together. He reached down to slap your ass cheek again. You moaned, wishing your other hand was free to tweak your nipples.

“You are so perfect. Oh,” he leaned forward a bit, and you can only answer with a breath sigh in response. “Fucking perfect for me this way. Cunt split open my cock. Do you like this? Do you? Being fucked like this?”

“Yes, my Lord. Yes, my Lord,” you could only repeat the phrase over and over, head tipping back in euphoric bliss. Your reaction only encouraged him further, his thrusts now becoming harder and faster as nothing but the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room along with your syncopated, breathy pants.

You felt yourself reaching that place you so longed for. It built first in the pit of your tummy, and then before you could think, it was bursting through your entire body. The room went black for a moment. Every muscle in your body tightened before releasing. You let out a loud yell and whimper, crying out his name, knowing you were absolutely soaking his cock at that moment, contracting around him.

It was Anthony who came next, his chest falling onto your back as he brutally pumped out his orgasm. “Fuck, fuck, my love, my girl,” he whined loudly. You felt the warmth of his cum spread inside of you. You stayed like this for a moment, allowing him to completely empty himself into you. As he pulled out, you could have cried at the emptiness, feeling his cum drip out of you.

You flipped onto your back as Anthony moved to grab a handkerchief from a nearby dresser drawer. He reached down, cleaning you off attentively.

“You have quite a bit of scholarly dedication, Anthony Bridgerton,” you giggled. He tosses the handkerchief into a nearby laundry basket after cleaning himself also, crawling into bed next to you. You are tangled in one another’s embrace, the book lying forgotten on the floor.

Anthony chuckled, brushing his lips over your sweaty forehead. “I have not ever been this eager to study.”

As he looked at you, his face turned tender. “I do love you,” he whispered with a sigh, holding you close to his warm chest. You place your hand on his chest, running your fingers along the space between his pecks. The shared intimacy lingered in the air, leaving you feeling content and sleepy.

“Perhaps next time, I shall choose the picture to imitate?” you ventured daringly.

He looked over at you before pulling you into another deep kiss, tongue tracing itself over your lip. “I believe that can be arranged.”

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton smut #bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton x you #bridgerton x reader #smut #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton fanfic #anthony bridger x fem!reader

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hoshigray · 2 years ago

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𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 | ryōmen sukuna

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna x fem/afab! reader - mosterfucking - double penetration (he got two) - biting - spanking - light choking - mention of blood.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: a quick something I wrote for Sukuna to take a break from writing a fic + I have jack shit for him in my masterlist, lmao.

Ryōmen Sukuna is most definitely a biter. There is no need to state this since it is obvious. But imagine him plowing you from behind, watching your ass quake under his erratic thrusts, forcing out choked moans from your writhing body moving to and fro with his. Tears roll down warm cheeks onto the cold cream sheets that cover the futon. Hands grip the material for dear life with every rut to your leaky cunt. And when he smacks the cusp of your ass, a shriek cannot be restrained from your lips.

Sukuna loves your screams. They please him to no end — a gorgeous tune to his devilish ears. As a sadistic man, nothing gives him more joy during these moments than inflicting pain onto your sweet tiny body forced to accommodate both his girthy cocks. A beast like him is allowed to use you as he sees fit. His little pet. His little toy. Not like you can refuse. Judging by how your body adapts to his dicks inside your holes, it is apparent that you're also enjoying this, too.

Two hands are stationed on your hips to propel you forward to him, and the other two hold your hands behind your back. You're left with nothing to conceal the whimpers and cries that fly out your mouth. He wants to hear it all — the sound of your ass meeting his pelvis, the choked sobs when his black fingertips dent into the depth of your hips, your pants for air as he takes them away. It turns him on so fucking much.

He can’t fight the urge anymore — the sight of your sweaty body quivering under his bow gets him riled up. Your skin, so beautiful and pure, displayed none of his markings from the times before now. Blue eyes narrow to your shoulder, clear of nothing but sweat. Well, he’s just going to have to fix that.

He comes down to your shoulder and sinks his teeth into your flesh. A sharp cry sneaks its way out of you.

“Eyyahhhh!!! Su-Sukuna, don’t, please! I can’t have any ma— Ahhaahhnn!!”

“Who told you’re in a position to order me, brat?” He gives the mark on your shoulder a slow lick, tasting the twinge of blood to engage his taste. One of his hands snakes its way to your throat to squeeze. Your mind plunging into a deeper haze than before. “Know your place. Don’t stop screaming for me.”

More chews to your shoulders prompt more tears to escape from your strained-shut eyes. And the pacing of his cock becomes unbearably fast for your brain and senses to keep up. The pain inflicted by his demon mouth, along with the tongue from his stomach licking the sweat of your back, coinciding with the erratic tempo of his hips — it’s all too much to bear. And your release hits you hard, your cunt and ass clamping onto his lengths that continue to rut into your now sensitive parts.

“Mmmph, haahhh…Heh, now you think you can come without my permission, huh?” Sukuna whispers dangerously to your ear, and you whine when his teeth catch your lobe. “Such a pathetic pet, aren’t you.” He pistons his dicks deep inside, churning your tender areas to the point of incoherent babbles. “A damn noisy one, too…Hmmgh! Oh fuck, fuck…”

Before he experiences his climax, Sukuna gives the back of your neck one last bite. Your final shriek signals the ingress of his warm load filling your holes. He keeps you pinned to the futon, making sure you stay still for every bit of his essence to enter within you. Your mind is too far gone to try and fight it — too occupied with the feeling of him corrupting your body internally. Just letting him ride out his own crescendo until he slowly dismembers his huge members off of you. Heavy pants are used to steady his breathing, and he examines his messy work on your body. Bloody bite marks, your ass trembling from the onslaught of ruts and slaps, and silent tears trickle down a dazed face. He snickers to himself.

“Perfect.”

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rosenclaws · 6 months ago

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Because of yesterday's headcanon about Leopold, I would like to request a smut leopold x reader where the reader just rides him, (and overstimulates him👀) praises him (cuz he has praise kink) and a lot of scratching and kissing☺️

(If you're not comfortable with this request, it's totally fine but I just really NEED a leopold smut fic, and you're the only blog I know that actively writes for Leopold so... 💋)

a/n: I FINALLY FINISHED IT OMG. Thank you for the request and my god I love Leopold. I am a ride he would not survive. Local Victorian man dies from too much sex. Anyways thanks for requesting and I really hope you like it <33

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, riding, creampie, scratching, sub!Leo, overstimulation.

Time has appeared to stop. The ticking of the clock fades into the background as the sounds of you and Leopold overpower anything else. It's quite dirty if you think about it. The moonlight shines through the windows, illuminating the room. The light hits Leopold just right. You can see the sweat on his skin. The sheen on his arms as he flexes them with every movement.

Fingers gripping tightly into your sides. His chest is heaving, desperately gasping for air. Yet his eyes shine with nothing but pure joy, fogged over from pleasure and a lust he's never experienced before.

It's amazing. It's exhilarating. Every nerve of his is on fire. He's never felt more alive, more loved. He's got his head tilted up, wide eyes with a blissful smile.

You grab his chin and pull him in for a desperate kiss. Tongues fighting each other, lips moving in sync. It's sloppy and gorgeous and feels so good. You press messy kisses to the corner of his mouth and down his jaw. He tilts his head back as a quiet whimper leaves his lips when you sink your teeth into his shoulder.

"My love..." Leopold groans as you move your hips faster and faster. His hands slip down to your thighs. Fingers sinking into the soft flesh.

"Hm? Yes Leo." You purr, a devilish grin as you tilt his head back to face you. His hair is sticking to his forehead and he looks so handsome.

"Feels..so marvelous." He pants.

"Yeah, you feel fucking amazing Leo. So big, so perfect." You gently place your hand on the back of his head, pressing his face into your chest and he happily licks and sucks every inch of skin he can.

"My pretty boy." Your nails slowly scratch the back of his head.

He's like your perfect pet. So eager to please, so cute, so desperate. You bounce on his cock with the perfect rhythm. Whining at the feeling of his fat cock deep inside of you. Every vein presses against your walls. Stretching you to the brim. Filling you so snugly.

Your hands slip to his back. Scratching down his toned back until there's marks of red. He groans loudly at the feeling. Forehead pressed against your chest, mouth wide open as the pain and pleasure mix together into the sweetest feeling he's ever felt. Leopold isn't going to last. He knows it. How could he when he's got someone as perfect as you riding him like there's no tomorrow.

"I can't-" He's cut off by a moan as you grind your hips against him. Shifting your hips slowly.

"It's okay pretty boy, just let me take care of you." You kiss him gently, slowly.

Pushing him to lay back. Nails scratching down his chest as he relaxes on the pillow. He's in awe as you pick up the pace and bounce on his cock again. He can't tear his eyes away from just where the two of you are joined. Watching as his cock disappears into you over and over. Where you're melded together in your most vulnerable states. It's all too much.

Leopold's eyes squeeze shut as he comes hard. You sigh as your hips start to slow their pace. His warm cum spurts from his cock, filling you up. He breathes deep as he starts to come down from his high.

"M'sorry my love." His words slur slightly as the pleasure fogs his brain.

You brush the hair out of his face. Leaning down to kiss him. God he's so hot. His cock starts to slip out and you move your hips down to keep him inside of you. He moans loudly, feeling overstimulated by the feeling of his cum and your cunt together. He can feel it dripping down onto him.

"Too...Too much." You shush him gently. Placing your hands on his chest you start to move slow and tortuously. He knows what to say if he really wants to stop. You had that conversation before diving into the world of hot sex with your boyfriend. There's just something so hot about this whole thing. Your beautiful. So bloody beautiful.

"I haven't finished yet baby..." Your voice is like honey as you lightly scratch his chest.

"Don't you wanna make me feel good?" He nods frantically.

The commanding tone of your voice sends his brain into a tizzy. Yes. He'd do anything to make you happy, anything to make you cry and moan with pleasure.

"That's a good boy, so nice. My good boy." He keens at the praise and you start to fuck yourself gently, using him like a toy and he is happy to submit.

"Please please, I love you. I need to please you." The words tumblr from his mouth without shame. What man in their right mind would be ashamed by this.

As his brain turns to mush all he can think about is making you happy, as happy as you make him. Anything you desire is yours. He grabs your hands and locks his fingers with yours. Letting you squeeze them as you grow more desperate. He brings one of your hands to his lips. Kissing them sweetly. You smile at him, a tired but blissed out smile. Your eyes are full of love and so are his.

This is what heaven feels like. Pure ecstasy. And he never wants to leave.

#kate and leopold #hugh jackman x reader #leopold mountbatten #leopold mountbatten x reader #leopold mountbatten smut

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