#GIVE THAT WOMAN THE BEST TIME IN THE SKY

[flurrywhipdies]

RAHHHHH KISS KISS KISS

[imflyingfish]

working in an art gallery and talking to a lot of full time artists has given me CRAZY imposter syndrome btw lmao

[little-diable]

Lightning - Tyler Owens (smut)

I mean, we all knew this would happen. I haven’t seen the movie yet, but I am DESPERATE for him. And as somebody who actually has something to do with studying tornadoes, I had to write this. I am obsessed with this fic, but I doubt this will get much attention, so please actually reblog it if you enjoyed reading it! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tyler and the reader are chasing tornadoes together, but when they have to step back and find shelter, things quickly change between them.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, handjob, kinda enemies to lovers, teasing and all that fun stuff

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (3k words)

Wind was blowing in her face, letting her strands dance in the air while her eyes flickered between her laptop screen and the dark sky. She was surrounded by her team, trying to ignore their shouts as they decided which direction to head in. (Y/n) was torn between too many options, not liking the way this afternoon was playing out. 

It was do or die, miss or hit one of the biggest tornadoes they had come across in a while. And yet the second cell that was currently forming gave off a somewhat more promising chance of catching enough data this time around. 

“Which way will it be, lightning?” Her breath hitched in her chest as he mumbled the words, front pressed against her back. The hairs on her arms began to rise, fully focused on his closeness, allowing her to pick up on the scent of his familiar cologne, on the way his breath fanned over the back of her neck as if he was about to kiss that very spot.

“Am I dreaming? Is Tyler Owens asking for my opinion?” She slowly turned towards the handsome man. Her eyes instantly found his piercing ones, getting lost in their intense gaze while he shot her one of his signature smirks. Fuck, if he weren’t such an asshole most of the time, she would easily give in to the pull she felt, allowing him to tug her towards his bed without having to fear about the aftermath. But if there was one thing (y/n) was sure of, it was that Tyler Owens was all about playing games, toying with a woman until he eventually grew bored. He was a personification of a thunderstorm, fast moving and never ready to settle.

“Don’t let it get to your head, pretty.” She clicked her tongue with a displeased expression tugging on her features. There was no time left to study him, to curse whoever had created him for making him look this handsome. They had to stay focused, at least until she got the data she needed for her project. 

“Alright, we’re heading east.” (Y/n) closed her laptop before reaching for her bag–the bag that was snatched from her grasp before she could protest. Tyler had slung it over his shoulder while tilting his head towards his truck, silently asking her to ride with him. 

On any other occasion she would have cursed him, would have told him to fuck off. But today, while being heavily understaffed, she needed any help she could get. And knowing that Tyler drove like the devil himself, she knew she had the best chance of arriving just in time with him by her side. 

His smirk grew wider the second she gave in, begrudgingly following Tyler while her eyes found the confused ones of her teammates. She only rolled her eyes at them, raising her shoulders and dropping them again as if she was wordlessly telling them that she was just as confused as they were, not seeing through Tyler’s game just yet. 

Silence filled the truck, only a few commands left (y/n) whenever they needed to make a turn, chasing down the roads to catch up with the growing cell. All while the others followed behind them, too slow to catch up with Tyler’s truck. Her heart was pounding in her chest, riled up by the anticipation of chasing another storm – no matter how many times she had done this before, (y/n) would never get used to the thrill, the moments leading up to seeing yet another beautiful though terrifying tornado. 

“You alright, pretty?” She’d never get used to the way Tyler called her, dripping with that drawl she loved more than she’d ever admit. (Y/n) didn’t look at him, fully focused on her laptop to monitor the path their tornado took. No word left her pressed together lips, trying to drown out the feeling of his concerned eyes flickering towards her every few seconds. 

“(Y/n)?” The use of her name ripped (y/n) out of her trance, letting her wide pupils find his. She only nodded at Tyler, knowing she couldn’t waste any time on the crush she could never speak of, preferring to take her secret to the grave rather than feeding his ego–only to end up with a broken heart in the process. 

“Guys, can you hear me?” She held the radio close, speaking to the others while refocusing on the map. All they could hear was rustling, unable to pick up on the reply that was spoken on the other end. Curses clawed through (y/n), she tried to reach their teams again, while swallowing the sinking feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. No longer could she see them in the rearview mirror, telling her that they hadn’t made it down the narrow path Tyler had taken.

The road ahead was muddy, forcing the truck to slither along while Tyler tried to avoid holes and ditches. With one hand clutching the door, (y/n) tried to hold still, not daring to bump into Tyler whose angry cusses filled the truck. Both had their eyes focused ahead, knowing that this had been the wrong choice, the wrong tornado to chase. They were heading straight towards their death if they kept going that way, knowing that without their team by their side, they wouldn’t be able to collect enough data anyway. 

“I hate being the one to say it, but we gotta find shelter, lightning.” Tyler’s annoyed groans left her nodding, giving him the green light to take a sharp left to turn towards the town close by. With the slimmest chance to find proper shelter, Tyler kept speeding along, seemingly having a spot in mind. (Y/n) was angry, at herself, at the road conditions, knowing that this situation should have played out much differently. And all she could do was trust the man she had always tried to hate.

“Come, follow me.” The truck was forced to a sudden halt. (Y/n) followed Tyler outside, holding onto her things while he reached for her free hand to pull her along. He guided her towards what appeared to be a barn, a building she paid no attention to as she studied the tornado, getting lost in its beauty for a second. “They built an underground shelter here a few years back, if we’re lucky nobody else had the time to find it.”

Tyler pushed her into the unlocked barn, letting the doors slide close again before he led her down some stairs. She didn’t dare speak, torn between too many emotions. All (y/n) could do was let go of a sigh while being ushered into the empty, dark shelter. It took her a while to adjust to the darkness, letting her hands move along the metallic wall until she found what appeared to be a light switch. She gave it a try, though without any luck, letting herself drop to the ground while Tyler stayed glued to his spot. 

If both hadn’t been too deep in thought, they would have realised that this was the first time they were sheltering together, completely alone without any nosy eyes watching them or listening to their talks. 

“We should have gone west, I’m sorry.” Her whispers filled the small shelter, luring Tyler closer who plopped down next to her. He fumbled with his phone to turn on the fleshlight, letting it rest on the ground to alight their surroundings. A few boxes were placed against the wall, filled with water and some snacks they hopefully wouldn’t have to use, praying that they’d get out of here fast enough to chase their luck once again. 

“There’s always time for another try, pretty.” Tyler reached for her hand to squeeze it before he could stop himself, forcing her eyes to focus on the spot where she now felt a buzzing sensation. She let her head roll towards Tyler, studying the white hat he took off with his free hand, placing it down on the ground, only to comb through his hair. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without that thing on.” (Y/n)’s whispers left him chuckling, a sound that momentarily managed to drown out the roar of the tornado. The howling was an almost comforting sound to them, after years of chasing them, well aware of every little detail. 

“Well, you’re one of the few who gets the honour, appreciate it.” She rolled her eyes at him before ripping her gaze off of him. Heat flushed through her at his teasing, a heat that only grew more biting as she realised that they were still holding hands. Her tongue moved along her dry lips, trying to find the right words to break their silence, silently hoping that she could cherish every single second of their time together. As much as she had once sworn to hate him while burying her crush deep inside of herself, she had lost all strength to fight against it, at least for now.

“Why have we never done this before?” Tyler seemed to feel the same longing, drawing her focus back towards him with his question. His eyes had an even more piercing touch to them now, having an invisible tight grasp on her soul she didn’t want to escape from. 

“Because you’re an asshole most of the time and I can’t stand being around you for long.” (Y/n)’s sharp reply left him laughing, a loud sound that had an addicting effect on her, leaving her chuckling while shaking her head at the man. 

“You wound me, lightning. Here I was hoping you’d finally let me take you out on a date, once this day’s over.” No longer did she laugh, the sound was stuck in her throat all too suddenly.

Did he truly mean it? Was he planning on asking her out? Or was Tyler playing yet another game with her? 

“Don’t fuck with me, Owens.” His hand darted out to grasp her chin, forcing her to keep her focus on him before she could even try to turn away from him. For just a second, she watched his gaze flicker between her eyes and her slightly parted lips. Once again her heart was back to racing, no longer focused on the howling wind, the sounds of things crashing outside, but fully and solemnly focused on Tyler. 

“Are you scared of this thing between us?” Once again, his question managed to rob her of the air filling her lungs, not expecting him to be this direct with her. A part of (y/n) begged her to cuss him out, to make fun of the question, to escape the avalanche that was about to roll upon them, but the bigger - more desperate - part of her, managed to gain the upper hand, leading her straight towards danger.

“Well, even though you enjoy riding your fears, I prefer to face ‘em. I’m not scared, not of this, whatever this is. But I’m fucking terrified of you toying with me and dropping me the second I’m no longer interesting enough.” He let go of her, only to pull her into his lap, making her straddle his stretched out legs. They held eye contact, wordlessly daring one another to move first, to give in to the pull that was as strong as an F5 they’d happily chase on any other day. 

“I’d be fucking stupid to mess it up with you.” She felt his breath on her lips, ghosting over her soft skin like he was giving her one last chance to pull away. A chance she wouldn’t take, letting it pass while finding his lips for a soft kiss that escalated within seconds. With his hand pressed to the back of her head and his other placed on her waist, Tyler held her to him while deepening the kiss.

Their tongues fought for victory, knowing that neither of them would back down from a fight against the other, urged on by their need to gain the upper hand. Soft groans and moans left them while their bodies searched one another’s closeness, knowing that this was something they wouldn’t tell others about, preferring to keep this as their secret. 

Her hands roamed his clothed chest, feeling his muscles beneath her wandering fingers while finding her way to his belt. She toyed with the buckle for a moment while her lips were still glued to his, knowing they’d have to part any moment now to inhale some much needed breaths of air. 

“You sure you want to do this in here, lightning?” His chuckles left her grinning, while holding onto the question she had wanted to ask for a while now. 

“Why lightning?” A kiss was shared between them, much softer than the one before. Her hand was still toying with his belt, slowly undoing the buckle to wordlessly tell him she wanted this much as he did, even though they knew that it was stupid and selfish of them to hide out here while their teams were undoubtedly worrying about them. 

“Well, the first time I saw you, you struck me like lightning, brightening my darkest day.” The explanation was cheesy, and yet it still drew heat up her neck. She could only swallow, smile at him and refocus on her hands. Tyler let her move, freeing his hardening cock while his impatient hands tugged on the buttons of her blouse, letting it pop open to expose her bra-clad chest. 

“Fuck, you’re a dream.” Her eyes flickered up to his while she spat into her palm, using her saliva to lube him up. Tyler couldn’t stop his moans from clawing through him, fully focused on the way he perfectly fit into her hand, pressed against the soft skin he wanted to feel against every inch of his body. His head rolled back against the wall, eyes closed and lips parted – offering a sight that made her walls clench around nothing, proud for being the one to make him feel like that. 

Her hand added more speed to its movements, squeezing him with just enough pressure to draw another raspy moan from Tyler. He allowed himself to relish in her touch for another moment before he gently though urgently grasped her wrist to stop her from moving. 

“Will you ride me, lightning?” His accent grew thicker with every syllable, leaving her shuddering while only a soft chuckle managed to leave her. She rose to her feet to shuffle out of her jeans, keeping her eyes focused on Tyler who marvelled at her as if she was the strongest tornado he had ever been fortunate enough to see, fully mesmerised by everything about her. She kept her panties on while finding her way back to his lap, knowing that they needed to hit the road soon, not giving them a chance to do this properly. 

“Wait, here.” He reached for his back pocket to pull a condom out of his wallet, letting her rip it open to roll it down his aching cock. Both their hearts were beating in sync, knowing that they were finally about to do something they had been desperate for ever since running into one another for the first time. No matter how much anger and hatred had once grown between them, it was now turning them from opponents to lovers–or whatever it was both were trying to adjust to. 

Tyler held onto her as she sank down on him, letting her forehead fall against his shoulder for a second. No words were spoken while they had to adjust, overwhelmed by the new sensation and the whirlwind of emotions buzzing through them like a storm hitting them both. With her hands holding onto him, clinging to the fabric of the shirt he wore, she began to move, fucking herself on his twitching cock with such a passion, Tyler feared he may never want to get out of this shelter again. 

“Tyler,” his name left her, a breathy whisper he almost missed, too far gone to focus on anything but their closeness. He palmed her ass, letting his fingertips dig into her skin to leave marks that would remind her of this very moment for days to come. His hips met hers, jerking upwards to make his cock disappear inside of her even deeper, drawing desperate moans from them which dripped with a need for more. 

“Attagirl, look at you, fucking yourself on my cock like you were born for this.” She moaned at his words, knowing that her thighs would start aching soon enough, begging for a new position to give herself the needed push to fall over the edge. “What? You’re already getting tired? I should have fucked you in my truck, make you scream my name while the world’s ending around us.” 

He pushed her off of him without a warning, leaving her dazed and confused for a second while watching him rise to his feet. With a hand stretched out for (y/n) to take, he pulled her up towards him–only to pick her up and press her against the wall. His cock was pushed back into her, stretching her walls while he fucked her with a fast pace that made both of them see stars. 

(Y/n) clawed at his neck, needing to hold onto him while he fucked her closer and closer to the edge. A cocky grin widened on his lips as he felt her walls tightening their grip on his cock. She was close, would let go soon with his name burning on the tip of her tongue, a perfect reminder that she was his from today on, glued to the man who she had once sworn to hate. 

“Scream my name, lightning, show them what a real thunderstorm sounds like.” If he weren’t buried deep inside of her, she would have rolled her eyes at him. But (y/n) was too far gone to care about his cheesy teasing, solemnly focused on her arising high and the name rolling off her tongue like a prayer.

And then she came, pushed into an orgasm so strong, (y/n) feared she’d never experience something like this again. It buzzed through every part of her body, stealing her breath as if she was drowning, forcing her heart to skip beats as if she was chased by someone or rather something. Tyler kept fucking her against the wall, urged on by her moans, the sounds he’d never forget again. 

Pants kept leaving him while chasing his own high, letting his skin meet hers with every ferocious thrust. And with one last “Fuck” Tyler came, relieving himself into the condom as his smirk returned to his lips. Both were heavily breathing, clinging to the other while coming down from their highs.

“I don’t know if I can walk back to the truck.” Carefully, he placed (y/n) back down on her feet, shaking his head at her with a soft smile thrown her way. Tyler pressed another kiss to her slightly swollen lips before both redressed, knowing that they had to get out of here and back to their team as fast as possible. 

“You know I’ll gladly carry you, lightning. I always will, if you let me.”

[astonmartinii]

it must be a sign | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem deaf! red bull engineer!reader

when the two most unbothered people in the paddock combine their joint powers to be the it couple

request sent by the lovely @bibissparkles xx

author's note: heyyy so many of you won't know but i am actually deaf - i am 50% deaf in both ears and wear hearing aids so i love requests like this! (all i do most of this stuff as a deaf person, turning off your hearing aids >)

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 302,446 others

yourusername: you can't complain about the dutch national anthem when you can just turn your hearing aids off

view all comments

user1: the way max's engineer is as sick of that damn song as us

user2: turning off her hearing aids makes how bored she looks during podiums make sense

yourusername: it was a banger during the mercedes dominance but would it kill someone to play the australian anthem

danielricciardo: i knew you missed me

yourusername: sure, jan.

user3: her and max signing slay to each other will always be so personal to me

maxverstappen1: gonna pretend you didn't just say that

yourusername: boo hoo babe, you gotta lose something sometimes

user4: babe? are the flowers from max?

maxverstappen1: would rather choke on my own spit and fall into a pit of snakes, hope this helps ❤️

yourusername: rude! i wouldn't want flowers from you either :(

user5: i swear we get into this argument every weekend, i think people will still assume they're together until their married to other people

liamlawson30: stop using me as a messenger pigeon please and thank you

yourusername: but i thought red bull gave you wings?

liamlawson30: do not use a pr answer against me 🤨

yourusername: no comment

liamlawson30: choke.

yourusername: idk what's going on in the red bull junior academy but spit in helmut's coffee not mine

user6: y/n consistently giving all the red bull guys shit is my favourite thing ever

user7: the amount of times the sky broadcast has caught her waving them off or taking her hearing aids out lol

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 782,309 others

oscarpiastri: switched four tyres for two this weekend

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user11: you can't distract us with your slutty bike pics WHO THE FUCK IS THAT

landonorris: A WOMAN? A WOMAN? IS THAT A WOMAN OSCAR JACK PIASTRI?

oscarpiastri: yeah i'm pretty sure

landonorris: don't play smart with me buster - why was i not informed?

oscarpiastri: i don't ask to be informed of every time you get rejected in the instagram dms

landonorris: FAKE NEWS

oscarpiastri: okay buddy

user12: i be seeing the sign language book, oscar you are so real for that

user13: that's my king, i need a oscar and y/n link up in the paddock - my unbothered queens

user14: she's in the likes !!!!!!

logansargent: oh we've entered the soft launch phase i see

oscarpiastri: and what?

logansargent: someone is feeling defensive this morning, dude i won't tell i've already kept it a secret for so long

landonorris: HE KNOWS? DOES BEING YOUR TEAMMATE MEAN NOTHING?

oscarpiastri: he's my childhood best friend?

logansargent: there's levels to this game norris

landonorris: @oscarpiastri consider yourself UNDER SURVEILLANCE

oscarpiastri: okay girly

user15: oscar has the patience of a saint, the mystery gal may want to rethink it before having to deal with them all

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 381,044 others

yourusername: unrelaxed, unbothered, moisturised ✨

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user18: queen SHIT THAT AIN'T SHIT

user19: but this mystery man IS

maxverstappen1: yeah sorry about that... but at least boyfy has made his instagram debut?

yourusername: about time, he's too sexy to gatekeep

maxverstappen1: well i'm not going to agree out of respect for you

yourusername: so you don't think he's sexy? i might not be able to hear but HE CAN MAX BE NICE

maxverstappen1: first of all it's a text, second of all i've been way too nice to him

yourusername: he beat you in padel fair and square you're just SHIT AT IT ❤️

maxverstappen1: you know that's a sore subject WHY WOULD YOU BRING IT UP

user20: my queen was really like you wanna tell me to fuck off? oh here's my sexy boyfriend

user21: jos verstappen really didn't know who he was tangling with that gal may be chill but she doesn't take shit

user22: she's like a female version of oscar lol

user23: i knew there was a reason i liked her

this comment was liked by yourusername

danielricciardo: why am i left out of everything these days?

yourusername: snooze you lose

danielricciardo: I AM AWAKE REPLY TO MY TEXTS

danielricciardo: I JUST SAW YOU PUT YOUR PHONE ON DO NOT DISTURB

yourusername: protecting my peace

danielricciardo: i'm on to you buster

oscarpiastri

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,209,455 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: overjoyed to get my first (proper) win in formula one and even more overjoyed to have my amazing girlfriend (and even better engineer) up on the podium with me

view all comments

user27: so this was the special occasion?

user28: so this is why she said she wanted the australian national anthem over the dutch one?

user29: this is now my roman empire

yourusername: babe is so fucking good and i'm so fucking proud

oscarpiastri: i'm so glad to have been able to share this moment with you

yourusername: you deserve this and more, i love you

oscarpiastri: i love you too xx

user30: wait so oscar knows so much more sign language than i thought

user31: he looked so excited and even mark knows some

logansargent: he forced (we were happy to do so) me, mark and his family to learn as soon as he secured the date lol

oscarpiastri: and now we're all so cool because of it

logansargent: cool and able to chat shit without people knowing what we're saying

yourusername: best bit about it tbf (everyone please learn, it's a beautiful language)

landonorris: I KNEW IT

oscarpiastri: no you didn't

landonorris: no i didn't :( i'm hurt

oscarpiastri: if it's any consolation, we didn't tell many people, max and logan are exceptions

landonorris: WHY WAS I NOT AN EXCEPTION???

yourusername: boo hoo

landonorris: i'm not gonna say anything back to that you kinda scare me

yourusername: good ❤️

yourusername

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, oscarpiastri and 529,778 others

tagged: maxverstappen1 & oscarpiastri

yourusername: me and a racewinner (and our world champion third wheel)

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user32: fave trio in the paddock no competition

logansargent: logan erasure

yourusername: we love you logan, sunday roast at mine this weekend ❤️

logansargent: SCORE

user33: every time you post there's a new plushie

yourusername: we usually get one to commemorate a big weekend and we both got one for osc's first win

user34: that's so FUCKING CUTE

oscarpiastri: it's all fun and games until you don't fit in the bed because y/n feels too bad to put any of them on the floor

yourusername: they have FEELINGS OSCAR

oscarpiastri: she cried one time when max set off the smoke alarm cooking breakfast and the bed alarm shook so bad that all of them were thrown to the floor

yourusername: it was HARROWING but it also did wake me up so at least we know it works

maxverstappen1: actually my favourite couple to third wheel, but enjoy it while it's here osc, i won't lose again

yourusername: yeah sorry osc it's actually my job to help max win so you're gonna have to wait for him to retire if i have anything to do with it

oscarpiastri: not even for me :(

yourusername: sorry not sorry (i'm really sorry, i love you so much)

oscarpiastri: i love you too even if you won't sabotage max for my race :(

maxverstappen1: okay i know i said you guys are cute but that's enough for today

yourusername: we ARE cute thank you

oscarpiastri: the CUTEST

fin.

note: heheheheh i hope you enjoyed this, i love requests like this xx also on the comment about the bed alarm i had one in uni halls and when the alarm went off that baby SHOOK it was kinda scary

[starmapz]

love & company - r. sukuna

❦ biker!ryomen sukuna x biker!f!reader [non-curse au]

❦ oneshot

❝ you're beginning to lose hope of ever fixing your bike as the moon rises over the horizon when a man built like a brick wall and covered in tattoos stops to help you out. he's standoffish and his words are cold - but as it turns out the version of him you see is soft. who knew this man could ever become your best friend, let alone something more? ❞

❦ cw ; 18+ only. contains explicit content. friends to lovers. fluff. hurt/comfort. p in v. fingering. oral (f! and m! receiving). degradation (slut). choking. pet names (princess, brat, woman, girl). size kink. rough sex. unprotected. biting. hair pulling. manhandling. toxic relationship (not sukuna). manipulation (not sukuna). reckless driving. use of alcohol and cigarettes. reader is implied to be short/small mostly in comparison to sukuna but he's huge so. ooc warning for sukuna given that this is modern and i want him to be more realistically human. i probably got some of the bike information wrong.

❦ words ; 24.2k.

main masterlist || love & company masterlist

A cool evening wind chills your skin as you hunch over your bike on the side of the road. You’re thankful for your thick leather jacket to protect you from the brisk winds, but it doesn’t make it easy to work when your thoughts continue to stray to the fast-approaching night.

Your Kawasaki motorcycle puttered to a stop an hour ago and you’ve been on the side of the road ever since. Of course it would happen today of all days, where your patience runs thin and you want nothing more than to be curled up in bed.

Your small array of tools that you keep for times like these are finally proving useful, but you can hardly bring yourself to care as you run out of things to check. You’re almost certain the issue is a clogged fuel line at this point but without the necessary tools to check, you’re fresh out of ideas on what to do aside from calling a tow truck.

The sound of another passing motorbike is grating on your ears as someone speeds by on a bright red Ducati and you want to curse them out just for having a working bike, but to your surprise, they circle back a minute later and pull up next to you.

A broad-shouldered figure steps off the bike, pulling a dark helmet off and giving his head a shake, running a hand through his pink hair to give it a naturally windswept look. Tattoos line his sharp jaw and scars litter his right eye. Deep near-crimson eyes lock on you, a mildly cold expression spread over the tall man’s features. He’s just about the textbook definition of what you would think of as a ‘bad boy’.

He looks you over before taking in the state of your bike. The sight of you covered in grease and oil sitting in defeat on the ground is amusing to him to say the least- you don’t much look the part of a biker between your small figure and approachable stature but one look at your bike and attire tells him not to judge a book by its cover.

“Need a hand?”

Unfortunately for the tattooed man, he’s caught you in a bad mood.

“No,” you grumble, picking up your wrench and dipping back into a rhythm of checking everything.

“I’ve got more tools than just a wrench,” he offers. Your intense gaze looks him over again, surveying the black leather hanging off his shoulders and red helmet that matches his bike tucked under his elbow.

“I can handle myself,” you insist, not keen on accepting a stranger’s help, especially given his cold expression.

“Didn’t say you couldn’t,” he retorts with a click of his tongue. “Just askin’ if you want a spanner or pliers.” His eyes flicker to the moon rising in the sky. “Or a flashlight.”

You follow his gaze out to the rising moon, its light not offering enough of a look at your bike to be all that helpful as night begins to fall.

You sigh, wiping perspiration from your forehead with the back of your hand. The man’s lips quirk upwards in a minute smirk at the sight of the grease you accidentally wipe on your head. He thinks it’s cute.

“A spanner would be helpful,” you give in, pulling a pair of pliers from where you’d set them down beneath your knee to show you did at least have a couple of tools handy.

Pulling his hands from his pockets, the tall man turns to the backpack he’d set on the ground behind him. He sets his helmet on the seat of his bike and pulls out a spanner, handing it to you in place of the torque wrench you’ve set at your side.

He’s silent as you thank him and begin adjusting the spanner’s size to detach the fuel line. Standing in silence, he does little more than watch given that you don’t seem to want his help.

When the fuel line finally detaches, you groan as you realize you’d been right about the problem the entire time and the line is blocked. Without an air compressor, there isn’t much you can do to get your bike running again and your shoulders slump in defeat.

“Now d’you need a hand?” He asks with a raised brow and a small smirk.

The look you shoot him is fiery and he’d be a liar to say he doesn’t think your attitude is cute. It suits the strange vibes he gets from you in the best of ways.

“I’ll just call for a tow,” you insist, still refusing the help of the stranger you know nothing about, aside from the fact that he has just about the most high-end street legal sports bike in pristine condition and you find it to be pretentious.

“Suit yourself. I can fix it for free, though.”

You press your lips into a thin line, brow furrowed as you look over his features. The man practically towers over you, he’s built like a tank and dwarfs you in every sense. His expression is aloof, giving away very little about him. You have no reason to believe he’s lying though, so with a sigh, you give in and hand him the spanner he’d lent you.

The man lowers himself beside you, disconnecting the other side of the fuel line entirely as he begins pulling apart the carburetor. You sit back, watching your bike attentively as though he might do damage to it, but his fingers move deftly as if this is all muscle memory to him.

“What’s your name?” You ask as the silence stretches on. It’s a surprisingly comfortable silence, as he grabs a rag and water bottle from his backpack. He glances at you as he wets the rag and begins cleaning the carburetor.

“Sukuna.”

“You know your way around a bike.”

“Been riding for a while.”

You nod. Despite his kind actions, his words are distant and frigid, so you decide not to push the subject.

It’s silent for a while as you sit with your hands splayed on the asphalt behind you, watching his actions. Your eyes survey the man hunched over your bike, admiring the smooth lines of the tattoos that line his jaw, more ink just barely visible along his neck from beneath his jacket. His hair looks freshly dyed and his right eye is dotted in long scars that have you wondering what happened.

If the situation were any different, you might be hesitant to accept his help, but in truth you’re too tired to complain.

It’s not much longer before your bike is back together. Wiping his hands with the rag, he nods to the bike.

“Give ‘er.”

Pushing yourself to your feet, you turn the key. The engine flips once, twice, three times, before finally sputtering to life.

“Oh my god, thank you so much,” you sigh in relief, shaking your head. “I thought the issue was the fuel line,” you groan over the sound of the engine.

“It is. You need to replace it, this should get you a few miles away though.”

You nod affirmatively, reaching down to hand back his tools. Sukuna dumps them in his bag and throws it over his shoulder.

“You’re a lifesaver, I don’t know how to thank you,” you tell him, your mood no longer sour as your bike continues to roar, thankfully not dead on the side of the road anymore.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” He simply shrugs.

“Let me buy you a drink, or something,” you insist in spite of your exhaustion, though his cold demeanor doesn’t give you much hope that he’ll accept anyway, so you figure you’ll be able to get some rest regardless of the offer.

As he turns to grab his helmet, you half expect him to start his bike and drive off without another word, ignoring your offer entirely. It’s just the impression he gives you, but he surprises you.

“Keep up, then.”

Your brow raises and before you have a chance to complain that you’re covered in a layer of sweat and grease and you’d meant at a later date, his bike is roaring to life.

You scramble onto your own bike and follow him closely. Sukuna is half-shocked when you actually pull up into the parking lot of a small bar right behind him, pulling your helmet off and shaking your head in an effort to fix your hair.

He would be lying if he said he didn’t find everything about you intriguing. From your bike to the way you ride and your feisty disposition all packaged in such a tiny figure compared to him, he thinks it’s cute. Maybe even something more than that.

He leads the way to the bar wordlessly as you complain about the grease coating your body, but he barely notices the oil marking your skin. He’s used to it, if anything, from working on his own bike.

You aren’t even sure if he’s listening given his flippant attitude and lack of response, but you drone on regardless. It’s better than silence.

Choosing to ignore your frustrated rambles, he orders a whiskey and glances in your direction.

“I’ll have what he’s having,” you tell the bartender with a sweet smile, waving your hand in the air like you don’t much mind what exactly you’re drinking. It’s your turn to surprise Sukuna.

“Don’t think I caught your name,” Sukuna says as you lean over the bar beside him.

You tell him your name with a sweet smile, your mood clearly improved as you take the whiskey and damn-near down it in one swift movement.

When your eyes land on Sukuna again, he’s smirking. He’s not really sure what to make of you nor you of him, but he certainly likes it.

Though you both elect not to have any more alcohol in favor of driving home later, conversation comes easily for the rest of the hour. At least, as easily as it comes for Sukuna.

“Where’d you get your bike?” You ask decidedly, trying to make conversation with the stoic individual.

“A shop up north.”

“Looks like it cost a pretty penny.”

He hums in approval.

That’s about how most conversations with him go, so when you throw your jacket on and insist you should get home, you’re admittedly surprised when he pauses and holds his hand out expectantly.

You stare up at him curiously. Not once had you gotten the impression he was interested in any of your conversations, yet now he wants something from you? You can’t decide what to make of this, what to make of him.

“Sorry, um,” you stare down in confusion at his expectant hand, mouth opening and closing as you try to decide what to say.

“Your phone,” he instructs and your pretty eyes widen as you stare up at him, the difference in stature between you both now incredibly apparent as he dwarfs you when standing over you.

“Oh!” You stare at him with pursed lips and pull your phone out, opening it to your texts. He sends himself a text and hands your phone back wordlessly, before turning his shoulder as he walks out abruptly, leaving you further confused.

Chasing after him, you just barely catch him as he kicks his bike’s stand up and throws his helmet on.

“Thanks again!” You call after him. He glances over his shoulder and though you can’t see his expression behind the dark visor of his helmet, he smirks back at you before driving off.

As you just barely make it back home on your sputtering bike, you manage to replace the fuel line and shoot him a text.

11:53 PM You || fixed the fuel line. thanks again, youre a lifesaver

11:55 PM Sukuna || thanks for the drink.

In all honesty, you figure that’s the last you’ll ever hear from him, but you quickly find out that the cold disposition he gives off isn’t really all there is to him when he asks if you want to go to a bike show a week later.

He fails to mention that his youngest brother Yuji would be joining you for the show, but as you walk the show floor with him and his younger sibling, you realize his brother likely just got all the conversation genes.

Sukuna is still aloof, he doesn't say much to you outside of comments about the bikes and even though he’s the one that invited you, you still can't tell if he enjoys your company. Although he’s quiet, his presence is surprisingly alluring and you're grateful to have someone to listen to your ramblings, even if he doesn't seem interested.

As you walk the length of the convention hall, weaving between crowds of people that seem to part at Sukuna’s menacing figure, Sukuna pauses to look at gorgeous black Yamaha. You barely catch the way he silently stops, managing to point out the pause to Yuji just in time to keep you all from getting separated.

“Don’t think I’ve heard him talk this much in ages,” Yuji comments with a raised brow. You tilt your head towards him, following his gaze to Sukuna.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” the younger man scratches the back of his head. “I don’t have my license yet but I like lookin’ around. He’s usually pretty snippy about which bikes I should be looking at,” he shrugs. “You guys must have a lot in common for him to be so chatty.”

Chatty, you practically scoff to yourself. The man barely said ten sentences to you.

You do notice the way he shoots Yuji a glare or groans about his chatting on occasion, though. Not once does he direct that at you.

Even still, you don't expect him to keep inviting you out. Ten sentences isn’t exactly something to form a friendship on.

Continuing to surprise you, you still hear from him. Next thing you know, you’re invited to ride with him and his brother Choso, invited out to dinner with a group of his friends and he even accepts your invite to see a horror movie with a couple of your friends.

You’re quick to learn that Sukuna is just like that.

Sukuna’s mild and somewhat haughty disposition is something you grow accustomed to as you learn how to talk to him. Though you find yourself talking mostly at him, you realize that’s just how he likes things. He pays a surprising amount of attention to your words, though you don’t tend to notice until he shows it through actions later.

He shows up to your work with takeout on his lunch break when you mention you forgot your lunch. He goes shopping with you despite his distaste for malls when you tell him you need some new clothes. He’s more agreeable when you’re around and his friends are quick to point it out, insisting you need to be there at all times to make him more tolerable, though they’re mostly joking.

He does treat you differently from the rest of his friends. You figure it’s just because your friendship is new, though.

After being invited along on a ride down the highway to a neighboring small town with Sukuna’s friend Uraume and his brother Choso, you eye up Sukuna’s plate. You’d ordered no side with your meal but god his fries look good. You shoot him a curious glance, met with his typical aloof expression, if not one of mild irritation. Glancing again at his fries, you reach over to steal one, pleased when you pop it in your mouth.

Sukuna rolls his eyes at you, muttering under his breath about you ‘being a brat’ and how ‘you should have ordered a side’, but it’s all a show as he lets you steal another one when you smile sweetly at him.

When Choso follows your act, wanting to try the fries as well, Sukuna swats his hand away with a hiss. “My plate isn’t a buffet,” he growls contemptibly. Choso wrinkles his nose, shaking his hand of the harsh slap.

When Sukuna gets up to use the washroom, Choso waits until he’s out of earshot to comment.

“How the hell did you get away with getting some of that asshole’s fries?”

You shrug. “Dunno. He just let me.”

“Grumpy bastard…”

Again, you insist you just don’t know him well and he’s being kind so the action is brushed off.

A week later, Sukuna insists you tag along with his buddy Toji to get drinks, but when you arrive at the meeting spot and pull your helmet off, Sukuna is haughtily arguing with the raven-haired man.

“C’mon, it’s cheap. Their food’s fine.” Toji insists with little more than a raised eyebrow and an unamused sigh.

“What food?” You ask with a smile as you saunter over to the two much taller men.

“Red’s,” Toji responds gruffly, his unamused expression turning to one of intrigue as he realizes you must be Sukuna’s friend. “You must be y/n.”

You grin at him as he smirks.

“Toji,” he introduces himself. “Now can ya tell this asshole that Red’s is cheap?”

Sukuna’s arms are crossed over his chest. “We can do better for cheap.” He all but hisses, his eyes fixed in the distance.

“I’ve never been,” you glance between the two with pursed lips, mentally chuckling to yourself at how much you have to look up to both men. “I think it sounds good.”

Sukuna’s arms fall to his side as his fiery eyes lock on you. He pauses for a moment, sparing a glance at Toji, but those deep eyes return to you with a begrudging sigh as he grumbles something under his breath.

“Fine.”

Toji’s eyes widen as he dangles his keys from his hands, his expression thoughtful. After a moment, he fists the keys as he gets ready to get in his car and head to the bar. He pauses before opening the door, a shit-eating grin spread over his scarred lips.

“Think I need ya to tag along more often, y/n.” He catches the tilt of your head and chuckles. “Think ya tame this shithead a bit.”

Sukuna roars something at Toji as he tries to catch him before the door slams and the car speeds off, leaving you giggling at the interaction.

Toji’s not the last to point it out, either.

You don’t think much of it, though. Sukuna just shows he cares through his actions and that’s how you come to know him as your best friend.

Sukuna is, of course, smitten with you. He adores how perfectly you seem to understand him. He loves the way you invite him along to everything with your friends despite his tendencies to scare others off. He loves that in spite of the trouble he gets himself into, your opinion of him never changes. He loves that you text him about stupid things, and that even when his response is inhospitable, you continue to text him like you would any other friend.

Because you’re his best friend. And he won’t admit it to anyone, but you know. He knows you know.

You get him. 

So of course when you excitedly text him about your date, you have no way of knowing that his naturally cold responses are no longer his usual tone. They’re frigid, maybe even mildly snarky, but over text you don’t see the way his brow is knit tightly in contempt.

When he meets your boyfriend for the first time, you notice the strange tension between your best friend and partner. Your boyfriend brings it up but you had warned him in advance that Sukuna comes across that way, so you brush it off as little more than Sukuna being himself.

Yet, you notice the little things. You’ve known Sukuna for a long time now. You notice the way his jaw tightens when he sees your boyfriend lean down to kiss you at a dinner for your birthday a year into your relationship. You tilt your head questioningly at him from across the table, a silent query, but he doesn’t give you a response, that mild expression never once leaving his eyes as he leans back in his seat.

“Kuna?” Your sweet voice pulls his attention down to you when you pull him aside as everyone is saying goodnight outside the restaurant. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’.”

You cock your brow at his flippant response, dismissing you with a wave of his hand. “I know you well enough to know you’re lying,” you insist with an expectant look.

God, that look makes his hardened expression falter. Sukuna is well aware that he’s unapproachable, scary even. His form is built and he towers over most everyone, not to mention his constant disinterested expression and the tattoos he sports.

You often tease him for his ‘resting bitch face’.

Yet here you are, hand on your hip, so small and sweet, a fire lit behind those gorgeous eyes of yours. Cute.

“It’s just been a long day, don’t worry ‘bout it.” He knows you don’t believe him, but it’s the best you’re getting and you know that as well as he does. Hurt flashes through your eyes and he does feel a pang of guilt, but he keeps it locked away as he sighs and pulls something from the pocket of his leather jacket. “Happy birthday, by the way.”

Your wide eyes look up at him in shock. You’d insisted no one should get you a gift, but when you texted him this morning and told him your boyfriend, so cheerily talking to your friends behind the two of you, had forgotten your birthday, he couldn’t leave you empty-handed in that way.

You gingerly reach out and take the box from him. You know what it is instantly and the way your cheeks redden, the way it shocks you to silence has him smirking, mostly to himself. His hands remain in his pockets, his unamused expression locked on your hands that hesitate as you slowly open the velveteen box.

Lying so beautifully strewn in the box is a necklace you pointed out to him when you’d gone shopping together what must have been years ago now. A gorgeous silver chain lays delicately holding a dainty bejeweled star with your birthstone in the center. Of course he’d been paying attention. He always does.

“You didn’t,” it’s all you can manage as you stare at it in disbelief. To your surprise, Sukuna is smiling softly down at you, a rare sight that you want to burn into your retinas.

“You deserve a good birthday.”

You know it’s a dig at your boyfriend, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Maybe that should be a sign, but you’re too caught up in the moment as tears brim your eyes.

“This was so expensive though, I- I- can’t-”

“You can and you will.”

You know when Sukuna demands something, he means it. This is one of those times.

Tears threatening to spill, you wrap your arms tightly around his toned middle. If he weren’t a giant in comparison to you, you might have bowled him over with the force you hug him with.

Sukuna relishes in the moment, memorizing the feeling of your body in his arms, the way you bury your head into his chest, hiding your tears in his hug as they inevitably stain his white V-neck, but he doesn’t care. His arms wrap tightly around you, one of the rare times he returns one of your affections.

When you part from him, using your free hand to wipe your eyes, Sukuna takes the box from you, moving to put the necklace on with ease. He moves like every action he takes is practiced as he confidently clasps the necklace around your neck.

“It’s beautiful,” you hum as you look down at it, running a delicate finger over the pendant.

The salmon-haired man hums mildly. “‘Course. You chose it.”

You examine his eyes, your expression unreadable as you contemplate Sukuna’s actions.

He may be agreeable around you, he may be willing to make compromises with you that he won’t for others, but this is new for him. This is sweet, and he knows you’re thinking such a thing too when he meets those pretty eyes staring up at him. He doesn’t care anymore, though.

He wants you to be happy.

When your boyfriend confronts you about the necklace later that night, you tell him the truth. Maybe you hope he’ll realize he fucked up. Maybe you hope he’ll right his wrongs.

Instead, you end up in an argument as your boyfriend insists that his mistake in forgetting the date was honest but that Sukuna overstepped boundaries.

Maybe your best friend did, in truth.

And so as your boyfriend snaps when you defend your best friend and the argument takes a turn for the worse, maybe it shouldn’t be that same best friend that you turn to. Maybe that will just make things worse.

But the phone only rings twice before he picks up.

He sounds tired, his voice coated in sluggish exhaustion as he mumbles a ‘hello’ on the other line. You hear the rustling of sheets on the other end, a pang of guilt clawing at your throat as you know you’ve woken him up.

“Kuna?” The tone of your voice is foreign to him. Meek, strained. Even earlier in the night when you had confronted him about his cold disposition, your tone still held that unwavering strength and fire that he loves about you, so this wakes him up.

Leaning up on his elbow in bed, he squints at his phone.

“It’s three in the morning, y/n.”

“I know.” You pause and Sukuna waits for you to explain. He doesn’t need to say anything for you to know that he’s listening. “We got into a fight.”

Sukuna sighs, full of disdain, though not towards you. Never towards you.

“You safe?” His voice is surprisingly soft, though you chalk it up to him being tired.

You nod, before realizing he can’t see you. “... yeah.”

He hears you sniffle on the other end of the line and has to physically resist the urge to say things he’ll regret about your boyfriend. “Right. ‘M on my way. Stay put.”

He hangs up, wasting no time in throwing on a pair of gray sweatpants and a plain black V-neck. He runs a hand through his disheveled hair, although it doesn’t do him any favors and he isn’t about to waste time styling it. As it stands, you’ve seen him in a worse state after some particularly wild nights that had ended with one of you on the other’s couch.

His bike roars to life outside his apartment and he’s off into the cold night air, barely grazing his skin as his leather jacket and helmet protect him from the bite. He pushes the limits of his bike and of the road as he speeds past any cars he comes across on the short drive to your house, and he’s glad he did when he spots you on your front doorstep, head in your hands in little more than pajama shorts and a tank top.

He’s off his bike in an instant, shaking his head as he takes his helmet off in an effort to fix his hair before he kneels in front of you.

You’re relieved at the sight of him, clearly fresh out of bed and having hurried right over. Your knight in shining armor. Or at least a shiny red helmet.

His brow furrows as he looks you over, spotting the goosebumps that litter your bare legs and arms. 

“Shit,” he mutters as he rolls his shoulders and shrugs his leather jacket off, wrapping it around you. It engulfs your figure almost entirely, draping over you like a dress. If the situation was any different he would think it’s adorable.

You look up at him between long, wet lashes, fresh tears streaking down your makeup-stained cheeks. Your eyes are red and puffy from crying and you’re sure your exhaustion and defeat are written across your face in bright bold lettering by the way he frowns.

“Did he kick you out?”

“It’s a long story,” you mutter, just barely audible.

“I got time.”

There’s a note of contempt that floats between his words and you know just as well as he does that he’s resisting the urge to beat down your door and knock some sense into your boyfriend.

Your mouth opens then closes enough times that Sukuna grows impatient, muscles in his jaw clenching as he grows closer and closer to busting down your door when you finally find words.

“We’ve been fighting on and off since we got home,” you admit. Sukuna raises a brow. That was four hours ago. “He was pissed about- about-” you stammer over your words, biting your lip as you fiddle with the necklace that sits beautifully around your neck. Beautiful like you.

“Me,” Sukuna dryly finishes your sentence.

You frown and he knows he’s right. Of course. Maybe the necklace was overstepping this time, but he’d watched your shitty boyfriend step on you more times than he could count and hadn’t once said a word. He respected you and your fiery demeanor entirely too much to ever want to see you upset.

Yet no matter what path he chose, it seemed you would be upset regardless.

“He took my phone and went through everything,” you clear your throat as your voice cracks mid-sentence, staring down at the phone in your hands. The screen is cracked and Sukuna isn’t sure if he wants to know whether it was shattered before today or not.

Your words set him ablaze in anger. It burns like an itch on his skin and it takes every last ounce of self control that he has to hold himself back and just listen. The contrasting cold air is nice on his skin, soothing what little fury it's able to with its brisk touch.

“Do you remember that photo we took together on Halloween?”

Sukuna nods slowly. He knows exactly where this is going. It was well over a year ago, before you’d started dating your boyfriend, when you had convinced Sukuna to dress as a king and you his queen. He’d had a surprising amount of fun with it and with enough alcohol flowing through his veins, his words had grown more frivolous. He’d spent all night calling you his queen or his princess, pretty much until the moment he’d thrown up, the words ejecting from his dialect along with the alcohol. Regardless, the proof was in the texts between you from that night.

At some point in the night, you’d gotten a photo taken clinging to his shoulders, a calm smile on Sukuna’s lips as he’d carried you with ease. It made him smirk the following morning recalling the memory, glad it hadn’t disappeared with the words or alcohol.

Regardless, he’d missed his chance to shoot his shot, growing too accustomed to having you around to consider you didn’t see his change in attitude around you as anything more than friendly, so he’d retreated to his usual detached self.

Clearly that detachment wasn’t enough for your boyfriend as you flip him your phone screen. So it is newly broken.

God give Sukuna the strength to sit still.

“And you’re outside now, why?”

“I felt sick, I needed air.” You shrug, fiddling with your phone in your lap. “He got mad that I walked away and we ended up fighting again, then he slammed the door in my face.”

“He kicked you out,” Sukuna states matter of factly, venom dripping from each and every word.

“He locked me out,” you shrug again, but Sukuna doesn’t care for the details. You have no keys, not to your bike or your house, no jacket, you’re in shorts and a tank top… jesus.

“What a fucking prick.” With that, he’s on his feet and you know he’s about to slam his fist on your door. Or through it. Sukuna may be kind with you but the bad boy persona he sports isn’t a persona at all- Sukuna would not hesitate to knock your boyfriend clean out. He’d been to jail before, one more time wasn’t a big deal if it meant keeping you safe.

“Kuna.” He pauses at the plain tone you say his name in. It’s not a warning, it’s not scolding. He doesn’t know what to make of it. “Not now.”

He huffs and clicks his tongue. His jaw clenches as his shrunken, furious pupils stare down at you, but when he notices your legs are shaking from the cold, he relents.

“Fine.” The word is grumbled as his hands reach for your waist and lift you to your feet with little more than a hum when you’re standing at your full height, barely reaching his broad shoulders. He leaves a hand on the small of your back, setting his helmet over your head and zipping his jacket up over your small frame in an effort to keep you safe when you climb onto the back of his bike.

Sukuna glances back at you as you cling to his toned abdomen, his bike pulling away quickly. Riding with Sukuna is familiar. Though you normally follow him, his quick riding pace and not-entirely-legal maneuvers don’t scare you the way they once did, because everything Sukuna does feels practiced, rehearsed.

Pulling into his apartment building, he pulls the bike into a parking spot and lets you hand him the helmet as you follow him up to his apartment.

It’s a bit of a mess, dishes sit in the sink, empty bottles and cans littering the counter and a garbage bag sits at the door, but it doesn’t matter because you’re warm and you’re safe and it’s not like he’d let you take the couch anyway given the current situation.

Sukuna moves to at least tidy the couch, fully expecting you to make yourself at home like you always do, but when he turns to see you’re staring at the ground in the entrance, his jacket wrapped around you like a blanket, he frowns. That’s not like you.

In fact, in all the years you two have known one another, Sukuna’s never seen you so spaced out.

“Did he hurt you?”

It’s his best guess as to why you’re so out of it, but when you shake your head, he’s simply at a loss.

Sukuna doesn’t do comfort. He’ll watch your favorite movies with you and make you food, but he doesn’t do words of comfort. He’s a man of action, and although the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on is standing in his apartment, he doesn’t dare to act on the stray thoughts running through his mind, even though he knows you deserve to be treated right.

Coming to stand in front of you, he sighs.

“Whaddya want me to do?”

Anyone else would assume he’s irritated with your presence, but you know it’s a genuine question. Your friend doesn’t know what you need and he’s trying his best to figure it out. He’s trying to help.

“Can I have a blanket?” You ask him, shoulders hunched in exhaustion.

There’s silence in the apartment as Sukuna moves to his bedroom to grab a blanket.

“The red one please!” You call after him as though that isn’t the one he’s already grabbing. He knows your favorite.

Returning to you, he drops the red blanket in your arms, his heart twisting as you pull his jacket off and hand it to him in exchange.

“Can I, um, come in?”

Sukuna raises an eyebrow questioningly, subconsciously fiddling with the tongue piercing in his mouth. Not once have you ever asked him to come in. You always, always, made yourself at home, even though it was much to his dismay the first few times you’d let yourself into his apartment in spite of his grumbles and irritated huffs.

Sukuna’s reaction is all the permission you need as you realize he must find the whole situation strange, but everything feels foreign to you. It’s not like you haven’t stayed at Sukuna’s before, it’s not like the couch isn’t your second bed, it’s that you feel like you’re betraying your boyfriend by being here.

Not that Sukuna would do anything anyway, you know he doesn’t see you in such a way. You may be his closest friend but he’s never once shown any sort of other interest towards you. Even if he did see you that way, he’s just not that kind of person.

Still, you gingerly sit at the edge of the couch, pulling your knees to your chest and wrapping yourself in the massive blanket. Sukuna moves to sit beside you, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. He looks at you expectantly, waiting to see what you want to do, if you want to talk.

But you don’t answer, and Sukuna is at a loss of what to do. A contemplative silence settles over you as he leans his head back against the couch, eyeing you and hoping you’ll say something.

“Can I ask you something, Ryo?”

The use of the nickname he lets only you call him quirks his brow as he realizes you’re serious.

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

That’s… not what the gruff man was expecting to hear.

His jaw tightens as his piercing eyes stare down at you. He rubs a hand over his face as he tries to make sense of the question, too tired to be thinking this deeply over something. He stares at you pensively as though the world rests on this one response.

“Yeah. You’re pretty.”

Your eyes fall to your knees and the way Sukuna’s head tilts, you’re sure he thinks he’s made a mistake.

“Thanks, Kuna.”

“The fuck did that prick say to you that has ya askin’?”

You hesitate, avoiding his discerning eyes as Sukuna’s chest surges with anger. Your best friend’s fist clenches in his lap as he leans forward, examining your expression.

“What the fuck did he say?” Sukuna’s voice is monstrous, but you could never fear his anger knowing he’s never once directed it your way. You know he’s irritated you haven’t answered yet, but even between his irritation and the gruff tone he uses, he could never scare you.

“He told me I couldn’t do better than him.”

“And?” Sukuna pushes demandingly, his fingers clasping the back of his couch so hard you wonder if he has the strength to crush it.

“That he’s way out of my league and should have chosen…” you trail off, not oblivious to the way Sukuna quirks a brow for you to continue. When you meekly whisper your friend’s name, Sukuna’s seething.

Fury practically drifts from his body like smoke and to your surprise you do hear the couch creak beneath his hand.

You’ve only ever seen Sukuna this angry once before.

Sukuna’s closest friend aside from you, Uraume, often accompanied you on your trips to the bar with Sukuna and would join in on your rides with their own bike. The two of them were two peas in a pod, similar in all the ways you weren’t, but if anything it made you closer to Uraume for having an understanding of Sukuna.

For that exact reason, you’d spotted Uraume’s discomfort a mile away when someone began hitting on them. Uraume could handle themself, so you didn’t think much of it until the man’s hand was tightly gripping Uraume’s arm.

Alarmed, you pointed out Uraume’s discomfort to your drunk best friend and he didn’t hesitate to clock the man hitting on them.

So when Sukuna is on his feet with a familiar rage brewing and doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself, you know you have to calm him down before you’re bailing him out of jail again. It’s not something you want to make a habit of.

“Kuna, it’s okay.”

“No!” He hisses, swinging his hand through the air as he stares at the door.

“Please, I’ll be okay, I promise,” you try to insist, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“It’s not okay for him to say shit like that to you,” he growls, glowering from where he stands over you, eyes on the door. He wants to leave, you know he does.

“It’s not, I know, but it’s not your problem.”

“Not my- What the fuck don’t you get?”

Your eyes widen at Sukuna’s question. His voice is frigid as ever, but for once you feel the shards of ice pricking your skin.

“What?” Your dumbfounded and hurt question hangs in the air momentarily as you try to process this outburst.

Sukuna’s scarred eye twitches as he runs his tongue over his teeth. He huffs out a breath as he sees your expression, forcing himself to calm down so as not to make this about him. He doesn’t want to say something he regrets, and he certainly doesn’t want that icy tone to be directed at you, ever again.

“He doesn’t fucking deserve you.”

Your shoulders fall at his words, his chest heaving as he stares at you with an unidentifiable emotion.

“Where’s this coming from?” Your brow knits tightly over the bridge of your nose. As you subconsciously chew on your lower lip, Sukuna has to do everything in his power not to stare at your lips.

“Look, I just care, alright? Or somethin’.”

You barely know how to react to your best friend’s admission of care for you. Not once has he ever shown an ounce of his care through words. Sure, he’s shown it in other ways, but this is a first for him.

His gaze is fixed on the kitchen, so he barely notices when you stand up and set your hand on his arm, your thumb comfortingly rubbing his arm.

“I appreciate it, Kuna.” You tell him with a tired smile, doing your best to reassure him that you’re okay in spite of the situation. “Just… can we please just watch a movie or something?” You’re too tired, too worn out to handle everything going on right now and you’re afraid the buildup of emotions in your chest will overflow if you don’t distract yourself soon.

Sukuna’s focus fixes on your hand on his arm, the way it seems to burn into him in a way he’d long grown painfully familiar with. It wasn’t uncommon for you to grab his arm and drag him somewhere, or hug him each time you said hello. Hell, the Halloween you’d both gotten entirely too drunk, you’d been on Sukuna’s back half of the night giggling and telling him, your King, where to take you.

Yet this time, the burn hurts. It hurts him to see you here with dried tears on your cheeks. It angers him to know your boyfriend had gotten away with treating you in such a way for so long.

He lets out a breath through his nose and takes a seat on the couch again at your insistence, watching as you drape the big blanket over the both of you. And god is it cute when you do, making sure he’s completely covered from the waist down like you’re tucking him in.

When you lean back against the arm of the couch, slinking comfortably back into the cushions and grab the remote, Sukuna feels his body begin to relax too, allowing himself to focus on your wellbeing here and now rather than the fact that he wants to pummel your boyfriend.

He’s not shocked when you flip through options and eventually settle on a Studio Ghibli movie he knows you’ve seen a million times because he’s seen it one too many times.

You know he doesn’t mind although he isn’t the biggest fan of the movie. Either way, it’s nearly five in the morning and you both know you’ll be asleep before you know it.

–

The next morning as cool air pours through a window and birdsong decorates each blow of the breeze, the pounding of your head is a rude awakening. It’s too early for you to be up given that you were awake so late, but your phone seems to think otherwise.

Your eyes flicker open blearily, and you lean up in bed with a yawn, realizing suddenly that you’re in Sukuna’s room and he’s nowhere to be found. Sitting up fully, you bring a hand up to your temple, pressing on it in an effort to ease the pain as you search for your phone, finding it eventually on the floor a small distance away.

Hopping down from the tall mattress, you yawn as you stare at the screen, your heart clenching at the sight of the contact photo on-screen as your phone rings. Your boyfriend has his arms wrapped around your middle, his chin resting on your shoulder as you both grin. With the way your screen is now shattered, it looks almost like a scene from a movie in the way it’s practically screaming a warning at you.

You’d spent far too much time alone with your thoughts the previous night. Hell, even with Sukuna’s comfort, his disdain for your boyfriend had been a bit of a wakeup call. Still, your thumb hovers over the green button.

“Hello?” Your voice is broken as you answer the phone.

“Thank god baby, I was so worried about you. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have left you outside last night, I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

You take a couple of steps forward, walking towards the living room as your eyes lock onto the tall man draped over the couch, his limbs entirely too long for the cushions. He must have carried you to his bed at some point and taken the couch.

Your stomach twists as you realize your boyfriend’s words are all lost on you, you didn’t hear a single one. You’re not sure when you tuned him out, or how long you’ve been staring at Sukuna when your boyfriend’s words pull you from your thoughts.

“Y/n? Did you hear me?”

“Sorry, I’m a bit out of it. What did you say?”

He sighs in frustration on the other side of the line and you wince as his tone gains a familiar edge. “Where are you? I’m coming to get you so we can talk.”

“I- um-” you pause, brow furrowing as you stare at your best friend, who begins to shuffle from his uncomfortable position on the couch as your soft voice awakens him from slumber.

“Y/n?” Your boyfriend’s voice cuts through the haze again, but you’re at a loss for words as Sukuna lifts his head, irritation written across his face at being awake, but when he flips over on the couch and spots you, his demeanor softens.

“Yeah. You’re pretty.”

Sukuna’s words ring in your head over and over and you bite your lip. He pushes himself up on the couch, moving to stand a small distance in front of you in three long strides.

Sukuna may not have a way with words, but you never had a hard time telling what he was thinking just by the way he looks at you. As he stares down at you with a tilt of his head, you know exactly what’s going through his mind.

Like that, it all clicks. Of course he hated your boyfriend. The signs were always there, you just didn’t pay them any mind. The reason he was colder than usual towards your boyfriend is as obvious as the sun in the sky.

Sukuna thinks you’re pretty. He wasn’t trying to comfort you when he said that. That’s not who Sukuna is. That may as well be an admission that he would move mountains for you.

“Y/n, baby? What’s going on? I want you home, now.”

Your chest twists at his tone and as your eyes meet Sukuna’s, you wonder if your phone is loud enough for him to hear when his lip twitches.

You clear your throat, your eyes never once leaving Sukuna’s from where he stands with tousled hair, wrinkled sweatpants and a bare chest. It’s not unfamiliar to you, you know Sukuna is beyond hot. You know Sukuna could take anyone he wants home and you know he has a streak of doing so, but now that you think about it, it’s been a long time since you’ve seen Sukuna with anyone, and you know why now.

“You left me outside all night in the cold.” Your voice is meek, still mindlessly chewing on your lip as you stare at the tattooed man’s eyes, now lit ablaze with a fire that hadn’t been there earlier. “You know what- I should go.”

“What? Baby, come on we need to talk-”

“I have nothing to talk to you about. We’re-” You pause, your stomach stirring uncomfortably as all of your emotions seem to collide and collapse within you. You feel the tears that threaten to spill, your composure that threatens to break as you ball your hand into a fist at your side.

Sukuna’s hand twitches beside him as he does everything in his power not to lean down and kiss you then and there. He wants you. He wants all of you. He wants to show your boyfriend everything he’s about to lose.

He wants to make you his. He wants you to make him yours.

Yet, all he can reasonably do is set a hand on your upper arm. He can’t be selfish. Not when you’ve come to him in your time of need.

“We’re done.”

“Nonono, we are not done, hold on-”

“I’ll come grab my bike and my things soon-”

“-let’s talk about this, I just made a mistake, okay-”

“-goodbye.”

“Don’t hang up, baby, hold on, fuck-”

Your hand falls to your side as you stare up at the taller man.

He doesn’t say a word as a tear runs down your cheek, shortly followed by a sob wracking your body. Sukuna’s hand moves from your arm to the back of your head as he pulls you into his chest, holding you there as you cry against his bare skin, tears wetting his toned pecs.

It’s not his ideal morning, but at least he can shamelessly say now that he wants to rearrange your boyfriend’s face with his fist.

He won’t say it anyway, though. He knows better.

Your best friend doesn’t say anything but his actions speak volumes as he holds you to him protectively, unmoving as he envelops you into his form. He exhales deeply as he holds you tightly to his body, his fingers gripping you tightly. It’s reassuring to know you have him in your time of need and eventually your tears begin to subside.

You blink your wet lashes against his skin as your warm breath fans his chest and abdomen. He shoots you a disgruntled look as your lashes tickle his skin and he jolts at the feeling.

“Don’t be a brat,” he warns through gritted teeth, but it holds no malice.

You chuckle through tears. “Sorry, Ryo.”

He rolls his shoulders and holds you again, letting your face fall against his chest once more. This time, you’re careful to keep your eyes closed to avoid tickling him.

He’s surprisingly patient with you as he lets you stand there, only moving to take and silence your phone when he grows frustrated with the vibration.

When you finally settle, he leads you back to the couch, tossing his shirt and the blanket off the couch and onto the floor.

“Did you move me to the bed?”

He hums affirmatively, his chest warming as you smile at him. “Thanks, I could have taken the couch though. It looked a bit too small for y-”

“No.”

You breathe out through your nose in a half-hearted laugh. There’s never any use arguing with him when he’s made up his mind, so you give it up. Oh well.

“Can I stay here for a bit?”

You figure Sukuna will huff and puff and make a show out of it but he nods easily.

“Thanks,” you sigh, sinking back into the couch.

You stare at the ceiling. What a morning. You’ve barely been awake for ten minutes and your heart is pounding in your chest just from sitting beside your best friend, someone you’ve known for years.

Someone you’d long pushed any attraction for down into the depths of your heart in an effort to save yourself the heartbreak of being with someone who seemed to have no interest in you. Hell, you’d once thought he was emotionally unavailable, and yet…?

You can’t help but stare.

He’s exhausted, you’re not sure how much longer he’ll be able to stay awake as his head bobs down onto the back of the couch, mouth slightly ajar as sleep settles over his form. You smile softly at the sight, swallowing at the yearning feeling of wanting to settle into his warmth, though you know you shouldn’t.

You’re a mess. You’ve heard your boyfriend- ex- say things you aren’t ready to admit to yourself that leave fresh stinging wounds. Hell, that’s an entire can of worms you don’t want to touch right now. Your belongings, your bike, your entire life is all trapped in his house, in the house of someone that-

God why had you let him step all over you like that? It leaves you frowning as your heart twists and clenches uncomfortably. You loved him. Deep down, you know it’s the reason. You convinced yourself he loved you too.

You curse yourself for overlooking your feelings for Sukuna, for pushing them down. He’d always cared deeply for you, the signs had always been there, yet you never paid them any mind.

Chewing on your lower lip again, you get to your feet and grab the blanket off the floor, draping it over him. Your thumb brushes over the faded black lines that race over his shoulders and down his collar bones as you tuck the blanket over his shoulders.

He hums subconsciously, a serene smile pulling at his lips.

You smile back, turning to get some rest yourself. When Sukuna kicks his foot out suddenly and damn-near trips you, you let out a surprised yelp, spinning around to confront him.

“What the hell, Kuna?” You harshly snarl at him.

His lidded eyes just barely open, your reaction earning a smirk from him. There’s his feisty best friend.

“C’mere, it’s cold.”

It’s not cold, and Ryomen Sukuna is not sly, but your stomach flutters and your heart jumps to your throat anyway. Your shoulders fall to your sides in surprise, unable to be frustrated with him.

He flips the blanket up, his arm extended over the back of the couch. His expression is mild as usual but when you take him up on his offer and plop down next to him, his racing heart tells you everything you need to know.

Pulling your knees up onto the couch, you let him pull you against is chest, your head resting on his broad shoulder as he barely lasts a minute before the rhythm of his breathing steadies and his head falls back on the couch again.

You’re not long for the world of the waking either as you succumb to the temptation of sleep on his warm chest.

When your eyes flicker open again, your head has fallen into Sukuna’s lap and he’s splayed in what looks like an uncomfortable position with his arm and leg hanging off the couch. His head is still leaned back against the back of the couch with his mouth hanging open as soft snores part his lips.

It’s not the first time you’ve seen him asleep. You’ve spent many hungover mornings at his apartment and vice versa but now in the gentle morning light with the distant sound of birdsong as the only noise disturbing his snores, he looks peaceful.

You shuffle on his lap in an effort to get a better look at his serene expression, but his strained groan suggests that you may have awoken him earlier than he would have liked.

“Can ya cut that out?” He grumbles without opening his eyes as he reaches down and adjusts your head to lay more on his abdomen.

The irritation in his voice doesn’t hold a candle to the sincerity in which his arm now cradles you against him and you giggle, to which he opens an eye to observe you.

“Sorry,” you hum. He exhales as he closes his eyes again, sliding further down on the couch.

You lay in bliss on his toned and horribly attractive bare chest for what only feels like a few minutes before his eyes peel open and he’s drinking in the sight of you, his gorgeous best friend, smiling at him from his chest.

And oh my god, Ryomen Sukuna is blushing.

Would you really be his best friend if you didn’t point it out?

“Kuna?”

“Hm?”

“You a lil flustered?”

Sukuna’s brow furrows deeply. “I am not.”

“You’re blushing.”

“It’s warm in here, you’re laying on top of me and we have a blanket,” he refutes with an edge to his voice that tells you that you’re poking a nerve.

You also know him well enough to know it’s faux anger, playful if anything.

“Funny, I was told it was cold a couple of hours ago.”

His lip curls, chest rising and falling beneath you as he huffs. “You push my buttons.” You can see from the way a muscle in his jaw works that he’s fiddling with his tongue piercing.

“I could push more than just your buttons,” your voice drips with confidence, lowering an octave at the implication. You pull a hand out from beneath your chin, running a dainty finger across the length of his collar bone.

Sukuna’s pupils dilate in an instant, his attention drawn to your finger. He swallows hard, the corners of his lips pulling up into a smirk. All signs of his contempt forgotten, warmth swirls in those gorgeous eyes of his, but the smirk on his lips is devilish.

“Careful, princess,” he warns in a gruff voice that has you clenching your thighs together with wide eyes. Sukuna’s brow twitches as he feels your legs shuffle, entirely too happy with himself at getting such a reaction from you all from two words. He chuckles, his chest rumbling beneath you as you hide your face in his chest, heat radiating from your cheeks.

Tension is ripe in the air between you both when you finally meet Sukuna’s intense gaze and it makes a question pop into your mind.

“How long?” The words are blurted out and Sukuna shifts beneath you to get a better view.

“What are you on about?”

“How long have you liked me?”

Sukuna’s scoff hits the air before he can even register he’s made the noise. “Go get ready or whatever so we can pick up your shit.” His brow is pulled into a tight scowl as he all but shoves you to the ground.

You barely manage to catch yourself before falling on your ass, rolling your eyes as you steady yourself.

“Kuuuna!” You coo with a grin, but before you have a chance to tease him any further, Sukuna lunges at you. “Wait, wait-”

You shriek in protest as he barrels into your legs, effortlessly lifting you over his shoulder. He pays no mind to any of your protests, nor your kicking and squirming against him as he dumps you with little grace on his bed.

“What-”

“Stop complainin’ and go change or shower or whatever y’ gotta do. I want your bike back.”

Sitting up as you attempt to reorient yourself, you blink a couple of times and manage to call his name out just before he’s turning away.

“I don’t have anything to wear,” you tell him, staring down at your pajamas.

“You’ve been leaving shit here for years, find something in my closet.”

“Have I?” You wonder aloud, suddenly realizing your hungover mornings passed in his apartment are likely the culprit for many missing outfits. “Wait, why do you want my bike back?” You realize suddenly, but he’s already shutting the door to his room and leaving you in tranquility.

Standing in the silence broken only by distant birdsong and the muffled sounds of traffic, you find your gaze lingering on the door where he once stood.

How long? You wonder to yourself. How many signs, how many signals had you missed or brushed off all these years under the assumption that your grumpy best friend was just that- your best friend?

You set a hand over your fast-beating heart, trying to steady the pace it’s beating at as emotions run rampant through you. Between the shock of realization of Sukuna’s feelings and the shitty night you’d had- your birthday, by the way- you can’t help the shaky exhale that parts your lips.

It’s a lot to take in.

You take your time showering, enjoying the way the warm water rinses away all signs of the prior night. It’s a warm respite from the days that are beginning to grow frosty as winter approaches. Most importantly, the white noise of the water falling drowns out the steady stream of jumbled thoughts flowing like a river through your mind.

Perusing Sukuna’s closet, you do manage to find more of your clothes than you had expected.

“My nice leggings were here the whole time?” You mutter to yourself as you pull them from a pile of pants. Along with them, you manage to find a pair of jeans, more shirts than you’d care to admit, an old jacket and a hoodie.

Pulling on a form-fitting black low-cut shirt and a red leather jacket, you poke your head out of the bedroom door.

“Why’d you never give any of this back?”

Sukuna’s leaning out the window with a cigarette held between two fingers. He blows a puff of smoke out into the cool fall air before turning to you. He’s still in his sweatpants but has pulled his shirt on.

“I used to bring ‘em back to your place when I visited but they always ended up back on my couch,” he shrugs simply. “Wasn’t worth the time.”

“I didn’t know it was this much clothing.”

“Your memory’s shit.”

“Ouch,” you hold a hand to your heart, feigning being hurt.

He stubs out the cigarette, waving the smoke out the window with his arm before shutting it. “Done in there?”

You nod and exchange places with Sukuna as he showers. He takes less than a quarter of the time you did and is out with the most effortlessly cool style that you can’t help but be jealous of him.

His typical black leather jacket hangs off his shoulders with a vintage Harley Davidson shirt beneath. He sports ripped jeans on his lower half and blackout shades sit atop his spiked pink hair.

“See something you like?”

You barely manage to utter out a pathetic ‘uh’ before Sukuna’s chuckling at you as he catches you eyeing him from your place on the couch. He makes his way around the couch, patting your shoulder encouragingly.

“Let’s go.”

Shaking your head to clear your mind, you get to your feet and follow Sukuna to the door, stopping him before he can leave.

“Hey. Can you stay on the sidewalk while I talk to him?”

The tall man pauses at your serious tone, examining your expression. “Why?”

You know why he’s asking.

“I’m serious, Ryo. I don’t want you two fighting.”

“He treated you like shit, y/n.”

“I- I know.”

His jaw clenches. “The piece of shit deserves-”

“I know, okay? Please, this is what I’m trying to prevent. Besides, if you get into trouble, I’ll leave your ass in jail this time.”

His head falls back, eyes closed as he comes to terms with just how serious you are. He rolls his shoulders backwards once before nodding. “Whatever, fine.” His tone drips with exasperation and anger and you can only hope at this point that he means what he says.

“Thank you,” you sigh in relief, falling into place beside him as he leads the way down to his bike.

Though you rode behind him less than twelve hours ago, somehow it feels different today as he places his helmet on you and pulls you tight to his broad form. His feisty little backpack, so cute in his helmet. He’s not oblivious to the way your hands roam his abs either as a smirk pulls at his features. It’s a sweet momentary distraction from his searing anger.

It takes every ounce of self control that Sukuna has to stay at his bike as he watches you ring the doorbell of your own house. Thank god for the cold air keeping his anger from simmering through his skin. He’s sure he’d be a pile of molten anger otherwise.

You shuffle uncomfortably at the doorstep, knowing entirely too well that this is going to go poorly. You were practically asking for a fight by showing up with Sukuna but what better option do you have? Your wallet and keys are still sitting soundly on the nightstand of the bed you’d spent the last several months sleeping in. At least, that’s where they should be.

It takes a moment before the door creaks open, your ex’s surprised wide eyes staring back at you.

“Shit, thank god you’re home-”

You barely manage to duck from his grasp as he attempts to pull you into his embrace. Your heart pounds hard in your chest as you face your ex, whose face contorts to one of pain when you duck away from him.

“I told you-” You mentally curse yourself as your voice breaks. Closing your eyes, you readjust and face your ex with confidence. “We’re done.”

“We need to talk,” he insists, his voice sickeningly sweet, and it almost makes you want to gag the way he swings between sweet nothings and manipulative cords that twist your heart.

“We talked for four hours last night. There’s nothing left to talk about!” You swing a hand through the air for emphasis as your voice rises, staring at him in disbelief. “Just let me in, I need my keys and-”

His arm swings out to block the door, knuckles white as he grips the frame of the door. His brow curls upwards in… frustration? Irritation? Anger? Pain? You’re not sure. “This is your home. You belong with me.”

You swallow the bile in your throat like a stone straight to the pit of your stomach. Once words like that would have made you swoon, now you feel as though you’re a deer in the headlights staring at a man you don’t recognize. A man who holds the barrel of a metaphorical gun.

You spare a glance behind you for reassurance, spotting Sukuna sitting at his bike. If it’s possible for a man to have smoke spewing from his ears, Sukuna is the spitting image of such a thing. His face is red with anger, hands clenched at either side of his body as he tries desperately to hold himself back.

He still remembers the way you excitedly told him about your new boyfriend. About how sweet he was, how kind he was. Although it pained him to know it was someone else making you happy, he was just glad you were happy. But when you had invited him to meet your boyfriend, Sukuna couldn’t help but feel as though the man didn’t match your description.

He’d tried to convince himself he was just being jealous, but the more time he spent around you, the more he noticed.

The last straw for Sukuna was when you had invited him, your boyfriend, and some of your closest friends along to see the latest installment in the Predator franchise. You’d stopped for dinner first and your boyfriend had insisted on ordering for you.

Sukuna hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but he had found it strange when a salad had been set in front of you. Not once had Sukuna ever seen you order a salad. Well, he had, but as a side. Never as the entire meal.

He’d tried to brush it off but when you’d decided on popcorn at the movie and your boyfriend had insisted you didn’t need it, Sukuna made a point of ordering a large one and sharing it with you.

Now as you look back at him uncertainly, every bone in Sukuna’s body screams to move. Yet his brain tells him to listen to you. He takes a breath in an effort to stay calm, deciding to respect your wishes.

“You brought him here?” Your ex pales as he follows your line of sight.

That seems to give you the confidence to face him again as anger sears through your blood. “You left me outside alone! He came to get me!” You search his face for any sign of remorse. When you don’t find it, tears prick at your eyes. Over a year spent together and he can’t even show you an ounce of kindness.

“I told you baby, it was a mistake!”

“No- No. No, a mistake is forgetting to turn off the sink, not leaving me outside in the cold with nothing but a broken phone.” Your voice drips with venom as the cold of the previous night envelops you in its memory, a reminder that this is for the best.

“Your phone isn’t broken, get over it y/n.” You glance down at his fist as it balls at his side.

“You shattered it.” You deadpan.

“Can we forget about the phone? For fuck’s sake.” He lifts his fist in the air to bring it up to his forehead as he attempts to calm himself down. “Look-” he shoots Sukuna a glance before smiling, his voice growing honeyed. “We’ll figure things out, okay? Why don’t you come in?”

You hesitate. You see the red flags as clear as day now that the fog has lifted, and you know Sukuna is grateful when you pleadingly look at him. His signal to come beat the shit out of your ex. Well, no, it isn’t. But he wishes it was.

Regardless, he’s up the front lawn to the door of the small house in an instant, standing behind you with all the self-control he can physically muster.

“We’re having a private conversation, would you mind-”

“Whatever you can say in front of me, you can say in front of him.” You insist, backing into Sukuna as your ex reaches for your arm. You’re thankful in this moment that your closest friend is nearly seven feet and built like a brick wall as it could never really matter who he’s up against, he’ll always be the scariest one in the room.

Your ex’s mouth curls into a snarl, eyeing Sukuna’s hands that rest easily on your upper arms.

“You’ve gotta be-” he grumbles to himself, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his hand that isn’t blocking you from entering the house. “Come on baby, you know you belong with me and not-” he cuts himself off as he shoots Sukuna an icy glance.

You shift uncomfortably at the tone he uses as he says that you belong with him, growing uneasy the longer you’re in his presence. Steeling your resolve, you straighten yourself and muster as much confidence as you can.

“This isn’t about Sukuna. You left me outside in the cold last night and I called my best friend to get me,” you tell him without missing a beat. Sukuna is practically grinning behind you as your ex’s jaw clenches but you don’t see the exchange between the two men. “Oh, and I don’t belong with or to anyone.”

Sukuna squeezes your arm in reassurance.

“I need my keys and wallet. I’m taking my bike and some clothes.”

Your ex mulls over your words before relenting finally, just as you’re beginning to think you’ll be without belongings. “Fine, but he stays outside.”

You glance up at Sukuna, whose expression is unreadable. “Fine,” you agree, slipping from Sukuna’s grasp and into the house. Your ex goes to close the door in Sukuna’s face, but a steady hand stops him just as you dash out of sight into your old bedroom.

“Let go of the door, man.”

“Leave the door open, man,” Sukuna warns mockingly in a sneer.

“She’s my-”

“She’s not. She’s not yours. She doesn’t belong to you.”

“Go fuck yourself, Sukuna.” He rolls his eyes, pressing more of his weight against the door, but it’s nothing compared to the bulk Sukuna packs.

“Consider yourself lucky I’m not rearranging your face right now,” his deep eyes blaze as he leans closer to your ex, his words dangerously low. If ever Sukuna is thankful that he knows he’s a scary person, it’s right now as your ex flinches back and relents, leaving the door open and leaving Sukuna at the door.

Your ex disappears from Sukuna’s sight and he stands up straight, turning to the side as he stares at your bike. He knows you can handle yourself, but he still doesn’t love the prospect of you being alone with your ex for any period of time.

Sukuna especially hates how long it takes. He’s not sure how much you need to pack and he can’t make out whatever you’re talking about with your ex but each passing moment he grows less patient and less willing to wait outside.

Just as he’s thinking of stepping inside, he sees your tiny figure with a backpack and a suitcase, keys dangling from your fingers and your wallet held firmly in your hand. The relief on your face when you lock eyes with Sukuna is somewhat heartwarming, but what isn’t is the way your ex tries to grab your wrist as you make your way to the door.

You pull against him but his grip fastens.

Sukuna sees red. He sees red and he doesn’t think twice about stepping into what was once your house.

“Don’t touch her.”

Your eyes widen at the sight of Sukuna making his way towards you with gritted teeth. “No, no, no! Sukuna! It’s fine, I can handle this!” Your hand with your wallet and keys flies up as you maneuver yourself between him and your ex.

Your ex’s hand doesn’t loosen even when your arm physically blocks Sukuna from laying a beating on him.

You take a breath, looking between the two men. “I’m leaving. Please let go,” you say softly, so calmly it almost breaks Sukuna’s heart that your ex’s actions seem so normal to you.

“We aren’t done talking-”

“We are. I’ll be back for the rest of my things later.” You tug your wrist again, sending a pleading look to your ex, but his grip only tightens. “Please let go.”

“Y/n, please. Please, we can work this out.”

“Let go,” you tell him firmly, ignoring his words.

“Please-”

“I don’t know if you’re incapable of listening or if you just want your head bashed in, but I’d listen to her.” Sukuna’s voice is a warning, dripping with malevolence you’ve never heard from him before. His chest is pressed hard against your free hand and you aren’t sure you can hold him back much longer.

“Ryo,” you plead, looking between the two men as you try to pull your wrist again. Your ex’s hand twitches at Sukuna’s words before loosening and falling to his side. You breathe out a sigh of relief, glancing down at the bruising markings his fingers left behind.

“So he’s Ryo now, huh?”

You glare pointedly at your ex, knowing that one wrong word will have him with his face caved in.

Sukuna’s intense stare never once leaves your ex, but he does allow you to hand him your suitcase and gently tug his forearm to follow you out the door.

Your ex watches from the door as Sukuna follows you to your bike. His intent gaze has your hair standing on end but you choose to ignore the feeling in favor of hopping on your bike.

The sound of your bike roaring to life puts both you and Sukuna at ease and you ride down the driveway, stopping next to his bike. He jogs after you with your suitcase still in-hand.

Sukuna is quiet, which isn’t unusual for him but you can practically feel the anger coming off of him in droves like smoke. Kicking your bike’s stand out, you hop off and flip his Ducati’s storage compartment open, pulling out a couple of straps to secure your suitcase to the back of your bike.

“Ready?”

You pull your friend’s attention from your ex finally as your hand comes to rest on his bicep. His eyes travel from your face to your arm that rests on him, where he can see the way your wrist is reddened and sure to bruise.

Realizing the sight of your reddened arm has his jaw clenching with anger, you move it behind your back and out of sight.

“Kuna, please.”

His intense gaze examines yours as the breeze faintly ruffles his spiked hair. He’s completely still apart from the muscle working in his jaw as he thinks over his options at this moment, but his chest heaves as he sighs in exasperation and gives in.

“Whatever,” he growls, shooting a poisonous look back at the door that your ex hasn’t moved from. Sukuna haughtily pulls his helmet on over his head, flipping his visor down before getting on his bike and accelerating quickly.

Based on the way Sukuna weaves through traffic and carelessly speeds through lights, you know he’s furious. You pull your bike into the parking spot next to him a couple of minutes after he pulls in, finding him pacing in the parking garage.

Shutting off your bike and pulling off your helmet, you approach him with angled brows, trying to reassure him. “Thanks for coming with me, I appreciate it.” He’s blinded by rage and you’re not even sure if he hears you. “Kuna, I’m okay,” you insist, reaching out to put a hand on his arm but he still brushes past you.

Sighing, you unload your suitcase from the back of your bike and return the bungee cables to the storage compartment of the Ducati as you let Sukuna blow off some steam.

Once everything is ready to go up to Sukuna’s apartment, you turn your attention back to him.

“Can we go up to your place?”

“He hurt you,” Sukuna hisses with pupils the size of pinpricks. It would be intimidating if you didn’t know that anger was directed elsewhere.

“It’s nothing really, it doesn’t hurt.”

“Fucking asshole, I should have-”

“Nope, we’re not going into that. I don’t want to know what you think you should have done.”

You grab your suitcase and begin rolling it through the parkade to the elevator, relieved when you hear a frustrated grunt behind you and a pair of keys clinking. The ride up to his apartment is silent, shrouded in anger.

Really, you should be the angry one but if anything, you're more relieved. Relieved that you have someone like Sukuna to stay with, someone who’s so willing to come get you at three in the morning when you need him most.

Sukuna swings the door to his apartment open, slamming against the doorstop loudly before creaking shut. His hand flies to his pocket as he trudges across the apartment, tossing his leather jacket on the couch and leaning out the window as he lights a cigarette.

A puff of smoke leaves his mouth as he swings his head back with closed eyes.

Shaking your head, you decide not to give him a hard time for his bad habit and give him space as you busy yourself with setting the couch up nicely for yourself to sleep on given that you were now homeless, among other things.

Sukuna takes his time at the window, stubbing out his cigarette when it’s barely an inch long and finally approaching you from where you sit on the floor looking through your bag, taking inventory of what you have and what you’ll need to pick up eventually.

Your pretty face smiles up at him when his shadow blocks your view and he finds himself relaxing more from the sight of you than he had from the nicotine.

“Are you okay?” You tilt your head, noting that he seems more calm now and he nods.

“Should be askin’ you that.”

“I’m okay. I mean it,” you insist.

His eyes flicker down to your wrist again but he knows better than to doubt you and he knows you can handle the pain. Sitting down on the couch behind you, he leans back and watches you quietly.

“I got the things that were most important, but hopefully I can go back and grab everything else eventually,” you note, more to yourself than him. He still hums in acknowledgement. “Why’d you want my bike back so bad, by the way?”

Your friend leans forward on his knees. “So I can still go for rides with you.”

“What, do I make a bad backpack?” You tease with a grin that has Sukuna’s shoulders falling to his sides as his anger subsides completely.

“Hard to drive when you’re feelin’ me up, princess.”

Your lips purse as your cheeks redden, caught off-guard by his nonchalant smirk. You’d felt up his abs a bit during the ride to your old place, sure, but being called out still had the tips of your ears heating up.

You stubbornly avoid his gaze, going back to figuring out if you’d forgotten anything. Deep chuckles resonate from behind you as your new roommate ruffles your hair and gets to his feet.

“By the way we’re goin’ out tonight.”

You tilt your head, eyes following Sukuna as he saunters over to the fridge and pulls out an energy drink.

“Where’d you have in mind?” You ask curiously, not entirely sure you’re in the mood to go out.

“That new rom com movie or whatever that you wanted to see is showing tonight. I got tickets.” He reaches back into the fridge and pulls out your favorite beverage, tossing it to you.

You barely manage to catch it, mumbling a thank you. “I don’t really know if I’m up for it,” you admit, staring at the drink in your hands.

“I already bought the tickets,” he shrugs, laying back on the couch again. “Suck it up.”

Your nose wrinkles in distaste but you know it’s likely for the best that you’re out of the house so you do, in fact, suck it up.

It quickly becomes time for the movie and you find yourself back in the parking garage a couple of hours before sunset.

“Can you drive?”

“You gonna feel me up again?” Sukuna raises a brow at you, but a hint of a smirk pulls at his lips.

“... Can I?”

Your confidence catches him off-guard and he blanches, his lips parting as he stares at you. His eyes flicker to your lips and that single action has your heart beating fast and hard in your chest. The fluttering in your stomach as you wait for him to react is enough to make you wretch and you consider yourself lucky that he seems to pull himself together as his lips tug upwards into a sly grin.

He takes a step forward, dipping his head down to whisper in your ear. “Don’t stray too low while I’m drivin’.”

You’re left choking on air as Sukuna’s tone sends a jolt of electricity straight up your spine, setting your entire body ablaze. Your eyes trail the length of his body, pausing as you watch him pull his leather jacket over his thin white shirt. The way his muscles ripple and tense with each movement has you swallowing hard as you realize just how built and toned he really is.

You’re thankful you aren’t caught and are spared from Sukuna’s teasing as you hop onto the back of his bike, purposefully making a show of feeling up his abs. Moving from his pecs, across the peaks and valleys of each set of muscles, down until you take pause as you feel the waist of his pants connect with the tips of your fingers.

Sukuna groans, looking over his shoulder before he puts on his helmet. “Not while I’m driving, got it?”

You nod at him, batting your eyelashes sweetly. He huffs, adjusting the crotch of his pants before pulling his helmet on. He waits for you to follow suit before pulling out of the parking garage and heading to the theater.

Sukuna’s warmth is both a beacon of hope and a searing flame to your skin. A comfort and an exciting new idea to explore. You hold onto him tightly, your body melting into his heat as he drives much more carefully with you hooked onto him than he had earlier in the day.

Sukuna pulls into a spot by the front door of the theater and waits for you to let go before hopping off of the bike himself.

“Popcorn?” He asks you mildly, hands in his pockets.

“Um, that’s alright.”

Sukuna’s eyes narrow. “Why?”

“I don’t need popcorn.”

“Don’t need or don’t want?”

You pause, your brow knit as you silently question what he means, but Sukuna’s seen this play out before with your ex and he wants to break this habit.

“Do you want popcorn, y/n?”

You run a hand through your hair, exhaling quietly. “Yeah, it’d be nice.”

Sukuna nods, surprising you as he grabs not your forearm or bicep as he usually does, but your hand. His much larger, veiny hand folds over yours, his fingers tangling with yours. Your hand is so small in his and even the feeling of your hand against him feels like a reminder of just how cute you are to him.

Your cheeks are surely dusted in a red glow, but you don’t mind given the surprisingly pleasant eagerness in your chest.

With popcorn in-hand, Sukuna leads you into the theater, taking you to your seat and relaxing into the reclining chair. He lifts the arm rest between you, not once disconnecting your hands like it’s the most natural action in the world.

And in all honesty, it is. Everything with Sukuna is easy. It feels right. It feels right in a way you’re not familiar with and it’s exhilarating.

Given the cheesy scenario he set up for, you half-expect Sukuna to make a move during the movie, but his thumb simply continues to rub soothing lines over your knuckles.

It’s after the movie that he surprises you.

Bounding down the stairs ahead of Sukuna as you tug him along with you, you’re practically gushing about the movie that you’re positive he barely paid attention to. It isn’t his style of film but he doesn’t mind either way.

“-I mean come on, how can you not love Owen Wilson in that role?”

“Mm.”

“-and it’s so charming watching him start to learn and care about her world-”

“Mhmm.”

“-oh my god and when she realizes she loves him and she shows up at the tournament-”

“I’m glad you liked it.” Despite how little he has to say about the movie, he’s just happy you enjoyed it.

“-and when he gets her flooowers?-”

Sukuna chuckles as you continue to gush over the movie at him. Still hand-in-hand, he tugs you along, quietly listening to your rambles as he makes his way to his bike. His chest swirls with anticipation as you pay his actions no mind when he turns towards the storage compartment of his bike as you continue rambling on.

It takes only a moment for his hand to reach the delicate item he’s in search of, deftly wrapping two fingers around the dainty object. Keeping his hand behind him, he turns to you with a soft smile. Lidded eyes stare at you with mirth, an expression that isn’t typical for Sukuna, so your rambles begin to fade into silence as you tilt your head curiously at him.

“Flowers, hm?” He asks, pulling a beautiful, blooming red rose out from behind him. He holds it out to you, pulling you closer by the hand that’s still intertwined with his as you purse your lips in disbelief.

“I- I-” You stammer over your words as your mouth goes dry, eyes fixed on the gorgeous flower held in Sukuna’s fingers.

It’s almost a strange sight to behold- the same man you’d seen passed out on your couch dozens of times, the man you’d had to bail out of jail on more than one occasion, the same man who grumbled and complained every single time you went to Red’s Bar- now holding a dainty little rose for you.

“W- when did you even have time to get this?” You shake your head, it doesn’t matter. “Sukuna, this is so much I-”

His brows raise as your rambles begin again and although he’s flustered you more times than he can count over the years, he’s never seen you genuinely nervous like this.

“-you really didn’t have to do anything like this for me-”

“Y/n.”

“-taking me to the movies is already a big deal and I know the last day has been a hassle for you-”

“Y/n,” Sukuna chuckles this time, his grip on your hand tightening as he squeezes it in an effort to get your attention.

“-I didn’t get you anything, I don’t-”

“Y/n,” Sukuna leans down, capturing your lips against his. His lips are soft and the kiss is uncharacteristically sweet. His hand slides out of your grasp, sliding up your arm and coming to rest on your waist as he pulls you closer to him. He parts from your lips with a smirk. “Shut up, princess.”

You stare breathlessly at him, eyes flickering wildly between his eyes, his lips, before resting down on the rose again.

“Take the damn flower.”

“R-right!” You gingerly reach out, holding the stem as you bring it up to your nose. “You didn’t have to do all this, you know.”

“Well, someone had to,” it comes out as more of a grumble as his brow furrows, but his fingers curl into the skin of your waist as he speaks, betraying the meaning behind his words.

“Mhmm, someone.” You agree teasingly, smiling up at him. “Thank you, Kuna.” You rise up onto your tiptoes, resting a hand on his chest as you lean up to kiss him, just barely able to reach his jaw.

His chest vibrates in a content hum. “So short,” he mocks, tilting his head to meet your lips again. Pulling his other hand from his pocket, he pulls the flower from your fingers, setting it in the storage behind him and finding your waist to bring you flush against him.

Your hands slide up the length of his hard musculature until you find his neck. Your fingers tangle in the short hair at his nape and another hum slips from his lips, swallowed by your kiss.

He leans down to meet your height better as the kiss gains urgency, years of pent up emotions flooding from Sukuna’s every movement. His fingers curl into your skin, pulling you impossibly closer.

“Kuna?”

He grunts into the kiss, smirking against your lips when he slides a hand from your waist down to your hips.

“Can we-” you breathe out between kisses, “-go home?”

Sukuna parts from your lips, examining your expression with blown pupils, so wide you can barely see the deep color of his irises. He swallows hard, his chest rising and falling fast as he nods silently.

You let out a surprised squeal when he grabs you by the hips and effortlessly lifts you onto his bike.

“-can do it myself,” you insist but Sukuna doesn’t register your words, too caught up in the intoxication of your smell, your feel, your taste. He wants more.

Hopping on the bike in front of you, he waits for your helmet to be on before he starts his Ducati and throws his helmet on. Your hands take their place around his toned abdomen, sliding down without a moment’s thought.

“Behave,” Sukuna hisses loud enough that you hear him even over the sound of his bike’s engine. He doesn’t need your visor up to know you’re smiling innocently at him.

He clicks his tongue and speeds out of the parking lot back towards his apartment. Though he’s still more careful driving with his sweet little backpack clinging to him, you’re not oblivious to the fact that he is driving quicker than usual.

Relaxing against Sukuna’s toned back brings with it a comfort you haven’t felt in a long time. It’s strange, despite him speeding through traffic and the sparking tension between you both, it’s easy to close your eyes and relax against him.

It’s not a feeling you’ve had with your ex for a long time. Although you ignored the flags throughout your relationship and defended him when he didn’t deserve it, it wasn’t always that way, but Sukuna has always been a safe and worry-free escape from the world for you. Since the first day he drove into your life, since you first realized that Sukuna enjoyed your company as much as you enjoyed his.

He’s a hard book to read and an easy presence to be in.

Your eyes flicker open, not realizing you’d grown so relaxed holding onto him that he’d already pulled into his parking spot, parking beside your Kawasaki.

Sukuna instinctively moves to get off his bike, expecting you to follow him, but pauses when you move rather sluggishly behind him. Pulling his helmet off, he shakes his head in an effort to fix his hair before he eyes you over his shoulder.

“You gonna get off?”

To anyone else, it might come across as aggressive, but his tone is mild as ever.

“Sorry, Kuna.”

You exhale and push off the bike with a hand resting on Sukuna’s shoulder blade. He watches you curiously, tucking you under his shoulder and leading the way back up to his apartment.

Pulling out his keys in the elevator, he ducks his head to get a good look at your expression.

“Tired?”

“No! … Well, yeah, but I was just relaxing,” you tell him and he hums, his eyes swirling with mirth. You cross an arm over your chest, your breast pressing against your arm. His eyes flicker to the sight, pupils dilating as he swallows hard. “See something you like, Sukuna?”

Your lidded eyes and purring voice has the taller man teetering on the edge of self control. His mind reels with thoughts that aren’t appropriate for the elevator and the moment the door opens, he’s making his way to his apartment like a man on a mission.

Desire pools between your thighs at his eagerness, made more apparent in the way he fumbles at the door with his keys.

It’s not even a second after the door is closed and he maneuvers you against the door, helmets on the ground as his fingers move to flip the lock behind you before they travel up the side of your body, admiring your curves before he cups your face.

He captures your lips, hungry to taste you again. He wants to devour you, he wants to mark you and make you his. Your lips move in tandem with his, matching his fervor with equal eagerness.

Your fingers rake his chest, thumbs sliding over the length of his collarbones. The feeling of his broad chest beneath your hands drives you crazy and you press back against him, your breasts pressing against the expanse of his chest.

“Kuna, wait,” you breathe, chest heaving as you part from him. Vermillion irises lock on you as he pulls back, his fingers gripping your waist almost bruisingly. “This isn't…” You pause, your mouth opening and closing hesitantly.

“Out with it,” Sukuna encourages hoarsely.

You shoot him a wry smile at his blunt impatience. “This isn’t just a hookup for me, you know.”

He raises a brow at you. “You think that’s what this is for me?” You might even assume he sounds offended.

“No! No,” you clarify, shaking your head as your pretty eyes go wide. He rolls his shoulders, leaning his face closer to yours as he intently watches you. “I just… I-” you pause again, avoiding his intense gaze.

“It’s not a one night stand, y/n.” Sukuna’s pupils shrink as he speaks solemnly. He feels you relax in his grip, your eyes coming up to meet his. “Relax n’ let me take care of you.”

Your cheeks redden at your best friend’s boldness and you shuffle as you press your thighs together.

“I better not be your rebound, y’know.” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice now, the elbow holding him up against the door sliding down as his face grows closer to you. God, he’s tall. He’s tall and built like a monster, and between the size of his hands, his muscles, not to mention his height… Your wide, almost timid eyes flicker down to his crotch. He catches the action and smirks. “Don’t get nervous now,” he leers.

“I’m not!” You squeak, the blush spreading to the tips of your ears. “And… you’re not a rebound.” You grab his shirt collar as you pull him in for a kiss, much sweeter than the covetous one you’d shared a minute ago.

Sukuna’s eyes flutter shut as he finds himself relaxing into your touch when you slide your hands up his neck and into his dark, undyed undercut.

“I like you, Ryo.” You admit when you pull back just enough for the words to reach his ears. His smirk can be felt against your lips.

“Fuck, you’re hot.” In true Sukuna fashion, that’s his way of reciprocating your admission, because he doesn’t do feelings. But you know. You know exactly what he means.

You grin against his lips, giggling like a giddy school girl who’s just seen her crush smile. Sukuna’s chest rumbles at your sudden timid delight.

“You’re such a loser,” he chuckles, his hand moving from your waist to hold your chin. He kisses you softly, your giggles persisting against his lips. Your fingers curl gleefully in his hair when he pulls back with impishly narrowed eyes. “You’re makin’ it hard to kiss you.”

“Sorry,” you chirp, your eyes crinkling in the corners. “It’s just cute- you’re cute.”

“Me?” He pulls back, standing at his full height and making a point of showing off his broad shouldered stance. “Cute?” He tilts his head quizzically as if to prove a point but if anything, you find the strands of hair falling out of place over his forehead cute.

“Yeah, you.”

“I’ll show you cute,” he grumbles, and suddenly you’re lifted off the ground effortlessly. You shriek in surprise in his ear as you grasp at the back of his leather jacket. He mumbles something about you being a brat before dumping you on the couch and crawling over your body.

His form looms over you and you’re both suddenly very aware of the immense size difference between you both, something which might be one of Sukuna’s favorite things. He loves how tiny you are, how easily he can handle you.

Sukuna takes pause, his usually dour gaze filled with longing, admiring what he’d wanted for so long as you stare back at him with wide eyes. He loves the fiery attitude you always sport, but this flustered side of you is new to him and he drinks it in like a drug.

Your chest rises and falls quickly, eyes darting from his arms that cage you in, down the expanse of his chest that peeks through his V-neck, back up to that alluring tattooed face. His sharp jaw, his ever-present smirk, his intense stare, it’s all so goddamn sexy and you’re flustered to silence like a deer in the headlights being hunted by a wolf.

“Funny, you seem to have lost your bark,” he comments tantalizingly, dipping down to kiss your jaw. Now with your body trapped beneath him, he feels the way your hips twitch. “What happened to the brat from earlier?”

You swallow down a moan as his voice sets you ablaze. Your hands find purchase on his biceps, fingers gripping him tightly. You take a breath to readjust and bat your lashes up at him as you push through the sudden nerves that seem to chase you. “Brat? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kuna.”

Sukuna grins, a devilish gleam in his eyes. “There she is,” he hums, bringing himself down to his elbows to kiss you wholly. His lips move urgently against yours, tongue swiping your lower lip almost immediately. He groans when you grant him access by parting your lips, drinking in your taste. You gasp in surprise as his tongue piercing grazes your tongue, a strangely pleasurable new feeling.

Your hands slide from his biceps up his neck, keeping him close, pulling him closer as you deepen the kiss. When you shift beneath him to clench your thighs as heat pools in your lower abdomen, he groans.

“Fuck,” he hisses into your mouth, catching you by surprise when he nips your lower lip. He pulls back for only a moment but in that split second the look on your best friend’s face tells you everything you need to know. You’re his prey, and he’s about to devour you.

“Kuna-!” You gasp in surprise when kisses down the side of your neck, leaving behind purple bruises as he sucks and nips at the side of your neck. Reaching the sensitive spot at the base of your neck, his teeth graze your skin before gently sinking in, testing the waters with a glance at your face.

You whine, squirming beneath him.

Sukuna withdraws with a smirk, running his tongue soothingly over the reddened skin. “Kinky little thing, aren’t you?” He purrs, rolling his hips against you so roughly you whimper. “Shit,” he mumbles and returns to his ministrations, his hips rolling against yours like a dog in heat.

“Sh-shut up, Kuna…” you groan, rutting your hips up into him. His movement stutters with pleasure and he nips your skin again in response. “Darlin’, hold onto me,” his husky voice commands against the skin of your ear.

“Hm? Ah-!”

Sukuna slides a muscular arm beneath the small of your back, pressing you to him and urging your arms to cling to his shoulders. You wrap your legs around his waist as he picks you up, holding your small frame to him in one arm.

He carries you to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him as you press kisses to his collarbone, leaving behind marks of your own. He hums, plopping you down onto the bed and standing to shrug his jacket off and unbuckle his belt, letting it and his jeans drop to the floor.

You’re sure your face is red as a tomato, pupils dilated as you admire his body, your gaze landing on the boner that’s pulling the fabric of his black Calvin Klein boxers taut. You swipe your tongue out over your lips, bringing your lower lip between your teeth.

Your best friend grins, pulling you to the edge of the bed by your ankles. You let out a surprised gasp, gripping at the sheets at either side of you.

“G’nna take my time n’ treat her right,” he purrs, falling over you as your legs wrap around his waist to pull him closer. He could be talking about you or your pussy, it doesn’t matter either way.

He lifts your shirt up over your head and you arch your back to make it easier. You’re so pliant for him and he adores your obedience, adores the desperate, lustful look in your eyes.

“Shit, girl,” he mumbles, his eyes eating you alive on the spot as he admires your body. You’re so small in comparison to the way his figure looms over you.

Catching your gaze, he squeezes one of your breasts, slipping the other from the fabric of your lace bra to press the warm flat of his tongue to your nipple. You jolt as pleasure buzzes through your body, moaning when he sucks the hardened bud between his lips. The cool metal of his piercing intensifies the pleasure when it grazes your skin and causes goosebumps to raise on your arms.

Your hands find his hair, tugging enough that Sukuna smirks against the plush of your skin.

“So needy,” he hums. Your thighs clench around his waist as the vibration of his voice against your skin rocks through you.

Your lidded eyes stare down at him and you take the opportunity to tug his shirt off. He complies, tossing it across the room. His heavily tattooed chest, abdomen, arms- he’s gorgeous and you can barely believe he’s standing over you right now, eyes for only you.

“Kuna,” you mumble between moans, jerking as he flicks your nipple with a smug grin.

He mutters out a ‘what’ before sinking his teeth into your breast. You gasp, eyes widening and bucking your hips against him as your head swings back into the mattress. As you arch your back for him, Sukuna deftly slips your bra off.

“Stop being a tease,” you plead, the hard length of his cock twitching against your core as you tighten your legs.

“A tease? What do you want then, hm?” His voice is cocky, knowing. He wants you on your knees begging.

“Kunaaaa,” you groan, laying the back of your arm across your eyes, suddenly timid.

Sukuna clicks his tongue, pulling your arm away from your face. He grabs your other arm and holds them both down above you with one large hand. “What do you want, brat?” His face is inches away from yours now and he rolls his hips against your core teasingly despite the ache he feels.

“I-” you pant, pausing to look at his intense stare. “Wan’ you to eat me out.”

“Yeah?” He hums, lowering his head so that his lips brush yours. “Thought you had manners?”

“Please, Kuna,” you beg in a whiny voice. Sukuna smirks, getting to his knees at the edge of the bed and draping his arm over your hips to hold them down as he sprawls your legs out before him.

“Fuckin’ soaked for me,” he groans, his breath warm against the fabric of your panties. He wastes no time hooking his fingers through the fabric to pull them aside. His digits brush your folds as you buck your hips in a desperate attempt at friction.

Chuckling softly, Sukuna languidly licks up your cunt, savoring your taste with the slow movement. You squirm beneath him, raking your fingers through his hair as you try to buck your hips towards his tongue.

“Patience,” Sukuna hums and flicks his tongue out to circle your clit. His piercing grazes the sensitive bundle of nerves and your eyes go wide with pleasure.

“Such a- hah- asshole- ah-!” Sukuna doesn’t give you the satisfaction of teasing him as he pushes his long tongue into your dripping chasm, your walls clenching around the muscle in ecstasy.

Sukuna groans as your fingers tug his hair. He lets you buck your hips into his mouth and ride his face, relishing in the sound of your moans and pants.

The feeling of his tongue inside you is already so intense that when he brings a thumb up to flick your clit, the sudden desire that pulses through your body straight to the knot tightening in your core has you bucking your hips in surprise. His grip on your hips fastens as he holds you down again, keeping you from squirming out of his grasp.

The desire and heat pooling in your core quickly grow in intensity as Sukuna’s experienced tongue plunges through your folds, drinking up your arousal.

“K-Kuna- I- I’m gonna-” your words are mere babbles as you try to speak through the bliss, your orgasm steadily approaching.

“Let me taste it, princess.”

The feeling of his voice with his tongue within you, the way his piercing suddenly flicks your gummy walls, his thumb on your clit, the way he calls you princess, it’s so much that your orgasm crashes over you in a wave, causing your body to jolt and jerk against the mattress.

Sukuna’s thumb leaves your clit as he holds down one of your thighs to keep you from crushing his head as you moan and pant out his name while your body spasms. He slows his ministrations to drink every last drop of your orgasm before flicking your clit with his tongue one last time, pleased when you jolt.

He pushes himself up, wiping your slick from his chin with the back of his hand.

“Shit, you’re hot,” he mutters. You barely have a moment to come down from your high before he’s pulling you to the floor by your waist, dropping you on your knees. His hungry expression and throbbing cock tell you everything you need to know as you look up at him through your lashes.

Your fingers curl around the waist of his boxers as you pull them down his thighs. His rock-hard erection slaps against his abs as you free it from the confines of the fabric. Sure, Sukuna is a monster of a man at nearly seven feet tall of solid muscle mass and you’d felt him grinding against you, but your eyes still widen at the sight of his cock.

You feel your mouth water as you stare at the angry red tip, veins protruding and pulsing with desire on either side.

“Think you can take it?” He asks and although it’s a teasing and husky tone he uses with you, he is genuinely asking as well. You nod eagerly and he grins. “Good girl,” he purrs.

Bringing a hand up to his cock, you wrap your fingers daintily around the thick base, looking up at those glimmering vermillion eyes as you run your tongue from base to tip, eliciting a heavy groan from the man.

“Christ,” he groans, his head flying back in pleasure. You smirk and take the tip of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue over the leaking slit before teasingly pulling back with a pop!

His hips shudder as he does everything in his power to stop himself from using your mouth, to stop himself from shoving his cock down your throat with no warning.

“Needy, Ryo?”

You don’t expect the way that sets him off, lights his desire ablaze anew as he fists your hair and leans down with a clenched jaw to look you in the eyes.

You whimper in surprise, closing your thighs from where you sit on your knees as your cunt pulses from the way he handles you so roughly.

“Let’s get it straight right now which of us is needy,” he growls with a smirk, eyeing the way you shift your thighs. “You gonna be a good little slut for me?”

You nod up at him, pupils dilating as he tugs your hair. He grins, narrowing his eyes. “Words, woman.”

“Yes, Kuna,” you purr back at him. The wild look in his eyes intensifies as he receives your consent and pushes the tip of his cock past your lips. His jaw goes slack in pleasure as you swirl your tongue around the head, lapping up his precum.

“Shit,” he groans out, watching as you take his cock without breaking eye contact while he thrusts further into your mouth. You gag when he reaches the back of your throat, tears pricking in the corners of your eyes and you shut them as you take his length. “Ah ah, look at me. Takin’ me so well.”

Sukuna knows you can’t take his entire cock in your mouth, he knows there’s a fairly large size difference between the both of you. It doesn’t stop the way he pushes your head down on his cock watching the way tears run down your cheeks as you so obediently let him handle you.

Saliva runs down the length of his cock and you bring a hand up to the base, pumping what you can’t fit in your throat. His hand pulls your mouth off his cock, adjusting his hand to hold your head back against the bed so that he can relentlessly fuck into you, massive cock hitting the back of your throat and gagging you with each thrust.

He throws his head back as you pump the base of his shaft while he fucks you, being his perfect little doll. His abs flex and twitch when your muscles tense as you swallow around him.

“Such a nasty fuckin’ throat.” He barely gives you any time to breathe as his pace increases, along with the pace of your hand to match. His chest heaves as he moans, letting you dig your nails into his thigh for purchase while he uses your throat.

His cock twitches as you moan when he hits the back of your throat and his eyes shut tight with pleasure, jaw going slack. When he jolts again with the next thrust, you know he’s close so you hum contentedly, sending vibrations up his shaft and causing his hips to jerk erratically as he chases his high.

“F-fuck,” he groans out before his hips stutter and your eyes widen when his cum unloads down your throat, thick ropes of salty sweet arousal swallowed as he keeps himself warm within your mouth. You move your lips slowly around his girth, milking every last drop of his orgasm. You pull back after a moment to allow yourself a chance to breathe, panting as you stare up at him.

His chest heaves and his cock twitches every few seconds, telling of the orgasm he’s just had. Still, his eyes burn with desire when he finally opens them.

He reaches down to pick you up and sets you at the edge of the bed on all fours roughly.

He squeezes your ass before slapping it once. Your body jolts in surprise as you gasp.

“Princess, you on any birth control?”

“Mhmm, you can go raw.”

You hear him mumble a curse beneath his breath. “You tell me if it’s too much,” he tells you, catching the way you glance over your shoulder at him and nod.

In spite of the rough way he uses and handles you, he’s still very attentive to your pleasure and comfort.

He pays no mind to the fact that you actually liked the panties you’re wearing as he physically tears them off of your body, tossing the ripped fabric aside. You whine in complaint, shooting him a look from over your shoulder.

“I’ll buy ya new ones,” he huffs, returning his attention to your body.

Squeezing your ass in both palms, he leans down and buries his face in your pussy, licking a stripe from your clit to your dripping entrance. He hums at how wet you still are, moving a hand up your spine to hold you down and keep you arched for him.

His teeth sink into the plump of your ass and you squeak at the sudden burst of pain that quickly twists to pleasure when he soothingly laps over the mark he’s left.

He slides his hand down from squeezing your plump ass to glide a finger through your lubricated folds. You lean into his touch, gasping when he suddenly plunges one long finger into your lubricated pussy.

Your walls are tight as they pulse around his long finger. He eases another digit in, pumping them slowly as he realizes just how tight you are.

“Relax, darlin’,” he hums soothingly, curling his fingers against your walls a couple of times before he finds your g spot. His voice is such a stark contrast to his rough tendencies, but it’s soothing to have him so worried for your comfort.

“Ryo, f-fuck-” you moan out as his fingers languidly curl against your gummy walls which gradually relax against his long fingers. With a couple more pumps of his fingers, he pulls them out, leaving you pulsing around nothing and craving his touch as you shift your hips in search of friction with a whine.

Sukuna grunts when he lines himself up with your plump cunt, pumping himself a couple of times before he slowly eases his tip into you. Your eyes widen at the delicious burn of the stretch, fingers curling in the sheets as you adjust to his massive size. And god this is only the tip.

You cry out, the feeling of his girthy cock filling you up blurring your vision as the pain transitions to pleasure before the process begins all over again with each movement he makes. His cock throbs, making you feel impossibly full.

Sukuna wants to ruin you, he wants to tear you apart on his cock, but he doesn’t want to hurt his sweet little best friend, so he watches the way your face contorts in mild pain, waiting for your expression to relax as he slowly feeds you his cock, inch by inch.

“Doin’ so good for me, darlin’,” Sukuna purrs, his thumb stroking your back in contrast to the fact that he’s still holding you down and keeping you arched for him.

His cock head brushes your cervix, pressing against it as he bottoms out, fingers curling against your back at how tight you’re squeezing him as he waits for you to adjust.

Your shoulders relax beneath his touch and you whimper as he slides his cock out to the tip, setting a moderate pace so as not to shock you. The feeling of his thick, veiny cock is like nothing you’ve ever experienced, his size just so much to take that you moan and whine with each thrust of his cock into your tight hole.

You grip at the sheets beneath you, gasping as Sukuna speeds up his thrusts and presses you hard into the mattress, muffling your moans.

“Kuna- mmph,” you let out a muffled whimper, jolting when he slaps your ass roughly, no longer holding back.

“F-fuckin’- shit-” he groans, his fingers gripping your skin bruisingly as he holds you in place. He leans forward, sliding his hand from your back to your neck, restricting your airflow subtly. Pleasure tears through your spine as he leans forward and pushes in deeper with each thrust, pulling moans and screams of his name from deep in your throat.

“K-Kuna, I’m- hah- close,” you whimper, words muffled by the sheets beneath you. He loosens his fingers from your neck, grabbing your waist with both hands as he pulls your ass closer to him, pounding into you faster as he chases his own high.

“Shit, y’r such a good lil slut for me,” he groans, feeling your walls tighten around his thick length with each thrust.

Pleasure tightens deep within your core, knotting and curling as he fucks you so deliciously that your juices are already dripping from your cunt around his hilt. His eyes lock on the sight and he throws his head back in pleasure, his own high not far behind.

With one last hit against your cervix, your orgasm hits you like a goddamn truck, like nothing you’ve ever experienced before as your entire body shakes and jolts, your knees and legs giving out.

If Sukuna wasn’t holding you up, you surely would have collapsed as stars cloud your vision and you moan his name like a mantra. Your eyes are glossy and your mind delirious as he continues to fuck you through your high, your walls milking him in a way that has him quickly climbing towards his release.

With only a few more erratic thrusts that have you whining under him in overstimulation, his cock twitches suddenly as his entire load fills you up, mixing with your juices and dripping out of your swollen lips down your thighs that Sukuna is still holding up.

He moans as he slowly lets your body go and you sink to the mattress, panting beneath him as his cock slips from between your thighs. His eyes flicker to your pretty pussy, his cum leaking out with each pulse of your walls. His chest heaves as well as he slowly gets to his feet and walks to the side of the bed, sliding up against the headboard.

Sukuna pulls your body up from where you’ve collapsed, wrapping his arms around you as his sweat-slicked skin sticks to yours. He’s much gentler now, looking you over for any signs that he might have hurt you accidentally, but when you finally open your eyes, they’re glossy with pleasure and filled with adoration.

He can’t help the way he genuinely smiles, not a common thing for the tepid biker, but when you grin and giggle in return, it makes his heart jump.

He practically turns to putty in your hands and as you silently bask in the afterglow of the best sex of your life and lean into Sukuna’s embrace.

“Wasn’t too rough with you, was I?” He asks after a moment and you’re surprised by the way his fingers softly graze your skin.

“You were great Kuna, don’t worry,” you answer, yawning afterwards.

He hums in relief, leaning his head back for a moment before taking it upon himself to get you cleaned up before you pass out. Grabbing a towel, he wipes your thighs and tosses the towel in a hamper at the edge of the room before pulling the covers over your figure and crawling in behind you.

“Ryo?”

Sukuna hums quizzically.

“Do I get to know how long now?”

“You’re a brat,” he growls in your ear as he pulls you flush against his chest, his arms folded around your middle.

“Yeah yeah, just answer the question,” you grouse, rolling your eyes. You have an inkling of a feeling that you know when he realized his feelings for you, but you’re curious nonetheless.

He sighs, knowing you’ll never let him live this down. “Dunno. It’s been a while,” he avoids the question.

You flip in his arms to face him with raised brows. He groans, avoiding your gaze.

“I guess around the time you got with your ex,” he admits, his eyes locked on the wall behind you as he tucks your head under his chin to avoid your intent gaze.

“Is that why you stopped seeing people?”

“You noticed?”

“Kuna, you had a new girl under your arm every time I saw you for a while.”

He grunts, pulling you tighter to his body.

Giggling, you kiss his collar bone. “That’s sweet.”

Sukuna’s chest rises and falls heavily as he lets out a long sigh. You can practically feel the way his cheeks are heating up as you tease him, something that you’d only managed a handful of times in all the years you’ve known him.

“Sorry, am I embarrassing the big bad motorcycling bad boy?” You push, squeaking in protest as Sukuna wastes no time in shoving you away from him in an attempt to push you off the bed. “Wait, wait, wait! I’m sorry!” You insist, looking to him for mercy as you cling to his arms, clutching desperately at the flexed muscles.

“And?”

“And…” you search for the words he’s looking to hear in his eyes, gripping his arms tighter. “I won’t do it again?”

“And?”

“I’m sorry I ate the rest of your leftovers this morning?”

His brow furrows. Oh shit.

“I mean… no I didn’t. They’re still there,” you mumble, avoiding his judgemental gaze guiltily.

Sukuna’s hold on your shoulder begins to lax as you teeter at the edge of the bed, threatening to drop you to the floor. You scramble to try to grip him tighter.

“I’ll buy you new food!”

Sukuna sighs and drags you back to him. You let out a relieved puff of air against his chest, snuggling back into his warmth. “Jus’ wanted you to say when it was for you.”

You tilt your head up at him, only able to see his chin. “When what was?”

“You know. When you realized what you think of me or whatever.” Sukuna’s gruff tone is telling that he isn’t used to such sincere conversations. Although you’ve known him a long time and he’d told you about damn near every sexual encounter he’s had, Sukuna’s most record-breaking relationship was a shocking three months.

Of course, Sukuna isn’t a romantic, and she didn’t know him well enough to know that he was putting in effort, so it didn’t last long.

“Oh. When I realized I like you?”

He grunts.

You hum in thought, moments throughout your friendship scrolling through your mind like a slideshow.

Of course, your forefront thought is when Sukuna first stepped off that stupidly well taken care of Ducati and surprised you when he managed to not only get you home on a running bike, but let you buy him a drink. He’s always been ridiculously attractive, but no, those weren’t feelings.

You think of all the times you hung out with friends and they would point out his change in behavior. You’d always think on the statement, watch the way that aloof look of his turns mild when he faces you, but you didn’t want to think about it too much.

You ponder on the time you’d called him on a whim early in your friendship when your date had bailed on you. Sukuna did not want to see the cheesy romance movie you had tickets for, but he’d sucked it up and shown up. You’d offered to buy him dinner as a thank you, but he paid regardless. It was the kind of thing a real date would do, but he’d complained so much you brushed the thought away.

When you were entirely too obsessed with Game of Thrones and insisted he be your king in a big fur cloak for Halloween, maybe then something had changed.

“You want me to be some guy from the show you like?” He’d grumbled and guffawed over having to dress up at all, insisting he’d been planning to put in minimal effort.

“Pleaaase, Kuna?” You were practically on your knees by the time he’d agreed with a roll of his eyes. “You’d make a good Robb Stark,” you insist before second-guessing yourself. “Well, if he was grumpy and kind of a dick.” You shrug, grinning up at him as he shoots you a begrudging look through narrowed eyes.

It only takes you a few days to put together the costume given the abundance of medieval king and knight costumes around.

His arms cross over his rugged chest, the fabric of his shirt pulled taut by the movement. “You can’t be serious.” He stares at the tight faux leather coat you hand him with a scowl.

“He wears something similar!”

“I’m not wearing this.”

“Please, you said you would!” You pout at him as you sport your best puppy dog eyes.

“No.”

You jut your bottom lip out, taking a step towards him as you shove the leather top to his chest. His eyes narrow, gears turning in his head until he shuts his eyes, giving in.

Your eyes light up as he pulls the top from you, groaning as he pulls it on over his shirt. It’s tight on him, which you expected given Sukuna’s sheer size, but it’s a strangely hot look on your rugged best friend. Even more so when he lets you drape the cape over his shoulders and set a cute little crown on his head.

“No, absolutely not,” he hisses, slapping your hand away when you try to clip the crown in place with a bobby pin.

“You’re such a pain,” you tease as you try again, holding an extra pin between your teeth.

Standing back, you admire your work as you receive a very unamused look in return. Sukuna’s build makes for a very kingly stature in spite of the contrasting tattoos and it makes him hot. In fact, you’re half afraid someone will whisk him away at the Halloween party given how nicely he’s cleaned up.

Your lips twitch downwards at the thought. You don’t want him to be whisked away. You want your king by your side.

“So?”

Snapping you from your thoughts, your eyes light up again. “You look great,” you tell him with a grin. His eyes flicker with something you don’t recognize.

He hums, examining your expression. “Well, go get ready then. Gonna sweat through all this leather n’ shit.”

“Oh like you aren’t used to leather,” you roll your eyes, but you oblige, getting your matching Talisa Stark outfit on.

When you return to Sukuna sitting on his couch, you muster your best impression of your character. “My king?”

Your best friend’s attention turns to you, eyes widening as you approach him in a floor-length queen’s gown with a matching gray cloak and a crown pinned into your hair. “Shit, y’ look good,” he breathes out.

Your cheeks heat up and you scratch at the back of your neck. “Thanks, Kuna.” You clear your throat and your mind to the best of your ability as you offer him a hand. “Ready?”

He hums, taking your hand before grabbing his keys and offering you his arm. “My queen?”

You’d be lying if you said that wasn’t the first spark. The first real spark. As he loosened up throughout the night and repetitively called you his princess, you knew you were spent. Each and every time he used the name had you giggling up a storm and while you’d brushed it off as intoxication at the time, you knew the truth deep down.

So when he’d returned to his aloof self the following morning, you swallowed down your feelings.

You couldn’t bear the thought of losing your best friend and he didn’t have a good track record with relationships. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t scared, even now.

“Halloween,” you utter finally, unsure of just how long you’ve been silently contemplating an answer in his arms.

“Figures,” his chest rumbles in brief laughter.

“You knew?”

“Nah, thought it was the alcohol.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. That’s why I started dating other people.”

Sukuna doesn’t respond but he buries his face into the crown of your head, drinking in your warmth, your intoxicating scent, and your soft skin against his as he closes his eyes.

No more other people, you’re his.

“Was it me callin’ you my princess?” He asks of the night you realized you’d caught feelings.

“That, and you make a good Robb Stark.”

He snorts. “I remember being told I was a dick.”

You shrug, smiling against the warm skin of his chest. “I don’t retract that statement.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head and warmth spreads through your body as you relax against him, eyes closing as exhaustion spreads across you like a warm blanket. You know the kiss is a sassy retort, but it shamelessly works on you.

“Fine. I retract my statement.”

“That’s my princess.”

–

“Can you stop moving so much?”

Unsurprisingly, Sukuna’s got an attitude today and he absolutely plans on making it your problem as he huffs.

Your gloved hands work carefully to thoroughly cover every last strand of his short hair with dye. You know very well the only reason he’s being such a menace today is because you’d suggested a change in color and he’s afraid it’ll look bad.

In all your years of knowing him, he’s always had the same pink hair, so you were thrilled he was allowing you the honor of dying it back to its original color, black. You’d actually insisted on orange or red, but black was the only thing he was willing to compromise on.

You make your way back around him and find his scowling face looking up at you. Covering the last few strands of hair over his forehead, you boldly sit on his lap.

His demeanor changes in an instant as you straddle him and his hands eagerly find your hips and begin roaming up your waist and back down to your thighs. You shoot him a warning glance as you accidentally smudge some black dye on his forehead, but he pays you no mind as he continues his ministrations.

“Kuna,” you warn sternly, trying to wipe off the black marking before it leaves a stain, but it’s too late. You sigh and look over your work.

“Just a quickie, c’mon,” he insists with a grin.

“I don’t want to be covered in black dye,” you retort and Sukuna groans, throwing his head back dramatically. “How long do I gotta wait?”

“Thirty minutes.”

He frowns, eyes following your movements as you pull off your gloves and throw them in the trash of your shared apartment. He can’t for the life of him tear his eyes from you as you proceed to wash your hands before grabbing a damp towelette to wipe at his forehead.

Suddenly feeling like a child as you take care of the marking on his forehead, he swats at your hand.

“You’re a menace,” you mutter, avoiding his hand with practiced precision as you wipe away any traces of hair dye from his face.

He smirks, he likes the way you tease him and if anything it only makes him want to bend you over the table more.

Still, when you pull back to inspect his face and leave a gentle peck on his lips, he knows you don’t mind his attitude.

You know it’s all a ruse of sorts. Not around others, but around you it is.

Dating him for so many years came with its fair share of complications, especially given that Sukuna’s communication skills were about as good as those of a rock. He often didn’t pick up on small signs that you were bothered by things and vice versa, as he’s a tough book to read.

Regardless of any small arguments, nothing ever got out of hand surprisingly. You can’t imagine your life if Sukuna hadn’t shown up to get you the night your ex kicked you out. What Sukuna lacked in the department of emotional understanding, he made up for with his actions.

Although he very rarely says it, you know Sukuna loves you.

Each and every ‘I love you’ is met with a kiss, a squeeze of your arm, a tug towards him.

Sukuna has his own way of showing you he loves you.

He picks you up from work with flowers, shocking those around you when the grumpy-looking tattooed man hands you flowers that surely won’t make it home in great condition on his bike, but it doesn’t matter.

He runs you a bath when he fucks you into oblivion and your legs give out. It may be his own hand that inflicted your weakness, but it doesn’t matter because he shows you just how much he cares for you through his aftercare routine.

He makes your coffee with far too much milk and sugar for his own taste and complains about it the whole time, but it doesn’t matter because he still does it every morning for you.

Sukuna loves you, and he knows that you’re aware of it.

When it comes time to wash his hair, he closes his eyes when you help him wash it in the sink. Your fingers move so delicately, taking care to wash out all the dye.

When he dries his hair with a towel and sees the way you delight at the sight of his freshly jet-black hair, he chuckles.

“Why do you never grow your hair out?” You ask, running your hands through his spiked hair. The color suits him and brings out his eyes in the most stunning way, you’re sure you have stars in your eyes from the way you’re staring at him.

“Dunno. The other color looks good,” he shrugs.

“It does!” You agree with a grin, “but so does this!” You insist. “It’s hot.”

He hums, looking himself over in the mirror. In truth, he doesn’t mind it. He only really indulged you because you’d insisted, but it worked out given what he had in mind for the night. It would look good in photos.

“When is Shiu getting here?” You ask curiously, interrupting Sukuna’s thoughts as your short arms wrap around his middle from behind.

“Hour from now.”

You gasp suddenly. “I need to clean up.”

“I can clean you up,” Sukuna smirks, lifting his arms in an attempt to see your face from where you stand behind him.

“Kunaaa,” you whine. “I need time to get ready.”

He groans dramatically. “Fine,” he grumbles, watching as you prance away happily to get ready.

You, Sukuna, Choso, Toji, Shiu, and Uraume were all going out in celebration of Toji’s newest addition to his family, a young boy. It was surprising that he was the first to settle down, but when you’d met his wife, you could see that she was his world, the way he relaxed at her touch and his own edge calmed in the same way Sukuna’s does around you.

Sukuna lays on his bed, watching as you choose a gorgeous black dress that hugs your curves so delectably that he wants to tear it off of you then and there. The whole time, he fumbles with something in his pocket, grateful when you don’t notice the small box accidentally fall from his grasp and onto the bed.

You chat with him about your work the whole time. Sukuna’s mind is elsewhere but given that he’s never all that chatty, you don’t notice. Looking yourself over in the mirror, you let out a relieved breath when you manage to be ready with only a couple of minutes to spare.

“Y’ look gorgeous.” Sultry words are whispered in your ear, followed up by a kiss to your neck as your boyfriend comes up behind you. His hands rest softly on your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder, bending down to your height.

You watch his actions from the mirror, the way his lidded eyes look over the curves of your figure, the way he slides his arms so delicately around your middle to envelop you in a tight hug, it’s these moments that you treasure the most.

The quiet moments where you simply enjoy one another’s presence.

Your lives are so busy that you don’t always get time to yourselves, so melting into his arms in that moment, you wish it would last forever.

Of course forever is a long time, and Shiu certainly doesn’t have the patience to wait in his car that long for you both. You’re not entirely sure why Sukuna doesn’t want to take your bikes, but you don’t push the subject. Your boyfriend’s mind is a mysterious place.

Your group gathers at a restaurant that’s a bit fancy for everyone’s tastes, but Uraume had insisted on it given the occasion. The real surprise was that Sukuna had dressed up a bit as well, sporting a sleek black pair of slacks, a black long sleeve button-up, and a red tie. His ensemble went well with your black dress.

Over the years, Sukuna’s friends had become your friends, long before you started dating, even.

Choso and Yuji were like your little brothers, and Uraume and Toji your closest drinking buddies. They got along surprisingly well with your friends too, especially Choso and Yuji who, unlike Sukuna, seemed to have a talent for getting along with everyone. Shiu generally only tagged along when Toji was around, but their banter was always welcome.

As Toji shows off photos of his son Megumi alongside his daughter Tsumiki, you notice Sukuna whispering something to Choso, casting oddly uneasy glances in your direction. Frowning, you glance over yourself once as though there’s something wrong with your outfit. No… it looks fine. So what’s Sukuna being so secretive about?

You brush it off as nothing, sure you’re overthinking things… until he pulls Toji aside after the man finishes showing off photos of his son.

You tilt your head quizzically to Uraume as you lean over towards them, ensuring Sukuna can’t hear you.

“Is Kuna acting weird to you?”

“Yes,” Uraume follows your gaze, narrowing their eyes. “Perhaps he misses Toji?”

“Are we talking about the same person?” A small smirk quirks up the corners of your lips.

Uraume laughs lightly with you. “You’re right,” they agree, but the thought doesn’t leave your mind.

It’s not like Sukuna doesn’t have off days like everyone else, but this is a strange change of demeanor for him. He seems strangely fidgety, as though he can’t sit still. His leg had bounced under the table throughout most of dinner and he was strangely eager to get the bill.

He had been horny all day, the best guess you have is that maybe it’s that and he wants to get home.

Still, it doesn’t explain him being so secretive throughout the night. In fact, he’d barely spoken a lick to you. Which isn’t entirely uncommon, but in place of words he would normally find comfort in your touch. Yet tonight it felt as though you’d hardly seen him despite sitting next to him most of the night.

You resort to asking him about it later, though an uneasy feeling tugs at you the more you notice it.

You’re almost grateful the dinner is over when it is as you intertwine your fingers with Sukuna like nothing is wrong. Shiu leads the way across the expanse of grass by the restaurant to his car one lot over, chatting with Toji as you and your boyfriend trail behind.

With Choso and Uraume a short distance behind you, you figure now is as good of a time to ask as any.

“Is everything alright, baby?” You tilt your head to look at your boyfriend.

Something glimmers in his eyes, an emotion you don’t recognize. That’s odd.

“‘Course.”

Well, that’s not reassuring.

“Okay… Nothing’s wrong?”

He shoots you a small smirk, kissing the top of your head.

“Nothin’s wrong, princess. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

You sigh, unable to help the feeling that he has something up his sleeve, but also able to recognize that whatever he’s plotting, he clearly has no intention of telling you. Regardless, you’re relieved that his nonchalant attitude seems to have returned. Maybe it’s nothing to worry about after all.

You miss the way he glances between the two groups, nodding to both as you sigh and give in.

“Alright, Kuna. I love you.”

Sukuna stops to face you and you blink at him perplexedly. Time seems to stand still as his chest rises and falls so quickly, he’s sure you can hear his heart beating out of his chest as he fumbles in his pocket for a moment.

You open your mouth to question him but your words die on your tongue when your boyfriend swallows hard before making a quick movement down onto one knee and your eyes go wide, your heart pounding in tandem with his.

It’s just the two of you in that moment, all sounds drowned out by beating hearts, lights and movement a blur behind you both. Everything is just Sukuna. Just you.

“Y/n,” he begins hoarsely. His voice shakes slightly and he curses himself for it but he doesn’t dare look away from your gorgeous wide eyes.

Your lips part, a lump forming in your throat. It feels as though it could choke you and you swallow hard but it only seems to encourage the tears you had yet to notice welling in your eyes.

“I had this whole speech planned,” he chuckles breathlessly. “Practiced n’ everything.”

You nod slowly, your hands trembling as you bring one up to your mouth to suppress your shock and awe when he pulls out a small red velvet box.

“But I don’t think that shit's for me. So I decided to keep it simple.”

Nestled delicately within the box is a gorgeous silver ring with a beautiful diamond held delicately in the center. The ring splits into three separate parts just before the gem that all twist with smaller jewels around the metal.

“Marry me?”

Although he very rarely says it, you know Sukuna loves you.

From the way he holds you to the way he listens and kisses you between words. From the way he brings you lunch at work when you forget to the way he drives more carefully when you’re cuddled behind him on his bike.

Sukuna loves you, and he knows that you’re aware of it.

And you love him too.

“Yes!”

main masterlist || love & company masterlist

❦ a/n ; please follow/like/reblog/share if you enjoyed ♡

writing & format © starmapz. art © too-many-owls. dividers © adornedwithlight and © cafekitsune.

[pearlcigs]

⋆ make a woman out of me

christian!virgin!reader x ellie williams

summary ⋆ you swore to yourself you only longed for ellie in a platonic way, but as you get older you seem to realize just how pretty she really is.

warnings ⋆ 2.95k ⋆ smut, i might get cancelled 🤷‍♀️, reader (non penetrative) virginity loss, religious themes, ellie is 19, reader is 18, pastor's daughter!reader, mentions of homophobia, alludes to reader's parents being homophobic, ellie smokes weed, pet names (pretty girl, babe, honey, baby, good girl), cursing, first kiss, corruption, corruption kink, oral (r recieving)

time moved slowly within the parameters of jackson. the same familiar faces, day in and day out. though, it was comforting living in such a community. the horrors of the world beyond the walls that stood tall was something you rarely wanted to think about. it made you sick to your stomach to think of your friends, loved ones, even people you weren't particularly close with, outside of the safe walls, being face to face with whatever monsters marred the unhabitual world.

your parents were strict with religion, your father being the only self acclaimed paster that jackson has ever had to offer. there was never a time you could remember, even before finding refuge in the cozy town, where your parents weren't devout. vivid memories of your mother's fingers gliding over the cross necklace she wore around her neck when you would get in trouble. disappointed sighs and signs of the cross, begging the lord above for forgiveness, explaining to the sky you were too young to know what you've done was a sin.

the bible was followed closely in your home, and you obliged without caution. you prayed, attended your father's mass sessions in the tiny chapel just down the road where he preached the bible, wore the holy cross around your neck to show your devotion, you've read the old torn and withered bible you were so lucky to find front to back. religion was all you've ever known and you had found no reason to ever question the man who hung on your wooden walls, hanging from a cross with his hands and feed nailed to it like an animal. that was, until ellie.

"come on, don't you wanna jus' see what it feels like?" ellie teased, waving the joint in front of your face like a taunt. "no thank you." you replied, sitting at the foot of her bed, legs crossed, eyes wandering around her room. when ellie first came to jackson you were infatuated with her, dwindling it down to pure want but only of friendship. "good girl, that's what you say when someone offers you this shit." ellie moves the weed away from your face, inhaling it and then turning away to exhale the smoke away from you.

it started with just friendly smiles, offering to show her around and help her get to know everyone. she was wary of you. honestly, afraid of your friendly demeanor. people on the outside of the jackson walls were cruel and vicious, she thought, with no doubt in her mind, you were being friendly to lure her into some kind of trap. she danced around you with caution, keeping her distance but also decidingly giving you a chance. she quickly became fond of you, your personality, your looks. everything about you appealed to ellie and something about that made you proud, even more eager to befriend her.

the words 'good girl' ring from her mouth and you're not sure how to respond. was there even a proper response to your best friend calling you that? a simple nod was all you could come up with. watching her lips intently as she blew the smoke out of her lungs. your fingers came up to your neck, fiddling with the cross necklace around your neck, a habit passed down from your mother. ellie never paid much attention to your shy outlook on life. you were reserved and a part of her liked that she had so much of you to herself.

it wasn't until you were 17 that you finally came to terms with the fact that your infatuation was more than just a yearning to be her friend. tears of guilt streaming down your face in the confessional at the shoddy chapel, divider between you and the young volunteer who was ready to beg jesus to abolish your sins. "i'm a girl... and i like another girl." you sniffled, lowering the pitch of your voice instinctively so he wouldn't see past your anonymity. ache in your heart when silence was returned, until soft mutterings of a prayer, asking jesus to forgive your tainted heart.

ellie extended her arms behind her head, a small stretch that gave you big feelings. her shirt rode up, exposing the small of her stomach. you swallowed harshly, wondering why god would tempt you with something like this. a soft sigh emits from ellie's lips, flicking the almost finished joint into a nearby makeshift ashtray. another soft sigh falling from her perfect lips. intent eyes trying to be secretive of the no less then unholy thoughts that you were being tempted with.

ellie was put off at first by your fervent religion. her experiences were tainted, never having a good visual of what a healthy relationship with god looked like. she was unsure if you were going to try and convert her into some pious worshipper. you weren't secretive of your religion and that much was enough to make ellie suspicious. with time she realized you were different from the other religious people she's met. only bringing up your religion or anything to do with it when you were directly asked or if it was really important to speak about.

"whatchu lookin' at, pretty girl?" she chuckled as she noticed the way your eyes locked onto her, like if you looked away she'd be gone. it wasn't unusual for ellie to be flirty or to make casual remarks about how pretty you were. still, every time she did your cheeks were adorned in a rosy color. "just you, i guess. i dunno..." you answered back quickly, hoping that answer was enough to satisfy her eager curiosity. "yeah? just me? got something you wanna say to me?" she was just joking around, trying to get you riled up and flustered but you did have things you wanted to say to her.

"no." you answered, though you were sure she wasn't expecting an actual response. "no? yikes, babe, i'm hurt, thought we had somethin' real here." she smiled and you felt the butterflies in your stomach become tongue tied. one thing you loved about ellie above all things was her smile, how the skin around her eyes scrunched up just the tiniest bit, the apples of her cheeks becoming more prominent. everything about her smile made your head spin.

"els, i like you." the words slip out of your mouth before you could even process what was going on. her smile that coerced you to confess to her in the first place falters. "i'm sorry?" she questions, unsure if you meant what she thought you did. you had never said anything that led ellie to believe you were homophobic or that you thought all gay people were sinners like most of the older people who were religious in jackson did. but still she was careful to keep her sexuality from you, strongly assured you would take after your parents' stance on homosexuality.

"i... i don't know why i said that." you say, truthfully. mouth slightly agape and eyes widened with shock that you'd just outed yourself after years of trying to force down your feelings. there was a silence between the two of you. silence wasn't uncommon around each other, sometimes the both of you preferring to spend your time together quietly as a way to unwind after a treacherous day. but this silence was different than those times. ellies breath was caught in her throat, words jumbled on her tongue.

she only began reacting when she saw the panic on your face, followed by your eyes becoming glassy. "hey, hey. don't cry. it's okay." she comforted, sitting up and placing a hand on your knee. she wasn't good at comforting people, you were well aware of that. "i didn't mean to.." you admitted, voice timid and quiet, still uncertain to how she would react. "hey, it's okay, honey." the term of endearment sliding off her tongue like she was meant to call you that for the rest of your lives.

"i'm not mad." ellie affirms, her tone soft, knowing how afraid of other people's anger you are. another flash of silence emerges, just you and ellie staring at each other. neither of you knowing what to say. she pitied you, seeing how much you resented yourself. your bottom lip slotted between your teeth, biting hard enough to potentially draw blood. "don't do that..." she mutters, gently running her thumb over your partially chapped lips, pulling your bottom lip out of your teeth's grasp.

your breath hitches, a small shudder traveling up your spine. your eyes locked on hers, your heart beating loud enough for the whole world to hear. ellie's eyes flicker down to your lips and then back to your eyes. "i've liked you for a while." you admit, knowing there was no going back at this point. "oh, yeah?" her voice was low, some would even describe as seductive. her thumb still lingering on your bottom lip. "yeah." you whisper back, your eyes now flickering down to her lips.

ellie's hand moves to your jaw. her eyes flicking down to your lips one last time before she leans down and presses her lips against yours. her lips are soft, just like you had imagined. she seems skilled, like she knew what she was doing and what the end goal was. a small smile forming on her face as she realizes you have no idea what you're doing. “like this.” she mumbles against your lips acutely aware how clueless you were when it came to romance.

you follow her lead, doing your best to follow her lead. her free hand finding your waist, squeezing gently. you pull away, panting faintly. "i don't know.." you mumble, trailing off as ellie puts her lips back to yours. the hand that was on your jaw roaming to the back of your head, fingers getting tangled in your hair. "i know." ellie responds moments later, her lips brushing against your with each syllable. you couldn't comprehend what was happening, your mind going blank with ellie's lips on yours. she adored the way you looked at her. looking at her like you needed her.

she gently lays you back, grabbing the first pillow she could find and settling it under your head so you were comfortable. her thighs either side of your body, her body weight on top of you, giving you a cozy feeling you'd never experienced before. "you don't even know how long i've been wantin' to kiss your pretty lips..." she whispers, her bangs hanging in front of her face. you bring your hand up to her face, nervously tucking the hair behind her ear. "god, you're so fuckin'..." she stops, just taking a second to admire how alluring you looked under her.

her lips dip down to your neck, slowly biting and sucking on the skin. your breath hitches, a small whine pushing past your swollen lips. ellie groans against the skin of your neck. "make more of those pretty noises f'r me." she mumbles, hips rolling over yours, another whine spilling from you at the pleasurable feeling. ellie's kisses move away from your neck, down your body. trailing down your collarbone to your clothed chest to your stomach. her lips stop, hovering right above your pussy.

your heart was beating out of your chest, you back arching a little in anticipation. "how bad do you wan' it? tell me, baby. tell me how much you wan' me." she was totally and utterly obsessed with you, her mind becoming drunk by the thought of you— the mere sight of you. "p-please, els..." you mumbled, voice timid from embarrassment. it was partially expected though, you'd never done anything like this. "i want you..." it was simple but effective, making ellie go feral for you. "fuck—"

she lowers her lips to your pussy, kissing over the fabric of your shorts. watching her through hooded eyes, your pussy throbbing from her touch. "gonna eat this pussy s'good. show you what you've been missin' out on." she groans, the fabric of your shorts dampening as she trails her tongue over the sensitive area. ellie surprised herself, shocked that she was able to dirty talk to you so easily like this. your hips were writhing against the bed, more eager than you've ever been in your entire life. you felt dirty for wanting this, knowing that god was watching you become a total slut for ellie.

ellie's fingers hooked on your shorts, pulling them down slow as slow could be, chuckling as you whined. "ellie. ellie, please." you muttered, begging for her to hurry up. ellie's eyes rolled back, the sound of you begging getting her more aroused than she's ever been. no one's ever made her feel like this before. she was done with the teasing, if not for your sake but for hers. she pulled your shorts and underwear off swiftly, discarding them somewhere to find later.

her eyes locked on your bare pussy, fighting back a moan at the sight. "you've got me so fucked up, babe." she muttered, kissing around your thighs first. you were nervous, breath shallow and quick paced, hungry for ellie but embarrassed nevertheless. your voice was caught in your throat, blinking quickly as you watched ellie kiss all over your thighs. ellie looked up at you and you were able to see that she was just as nervous as you. "is this okay? you can tell me to stop." she sounded sincere, pushing aside her pure need to get your consent.

you nodded, not trusting your voice. "use your words like the good girl you are, yeah?" she's longing to just taste your glistening cunt. "yes— yes, els. 't's okay..." she doesn't waste another second after hearing your shaky voice, tongue urgently dipping between your wet folds. you moan at the contact, feeling like you were on cloud 9. ellie's tongue presses flat against your clit, your hand clamping over your mouth. moans being muffled as ellie savors the sweet noises your dripping cunt was making.

ellie wasn't fond of you muffling your perfect little sounds, wanting to hear just how good she could make you feel. "let me hear you. don't make me punish you.." you don't move your hand away from your sinful mouth. your free hand finds ellie's, interlocking your fingers which she gladly accepts. "c'mon, baby. let me hear you." she encourages once more, lips moving against you with ease, mixture of your wetness and her spit. but to her dismay, you still ignored her commands. her free hand sliding your shirt up your body to expose your breasts, you were never one to wear a bra. her hand kneading the supple flesh, thumb running over your nipple.

she licks a strip from your entrance to your clit, making your thighs shake with immense pleasure. "wanna be a brat?" she mumbles into your pussy, looking up at you through her eyelashes, staring you down as her tongue circles your clit. "what is it they make you do in confession? hail mary's? 5 of 'em, now. or i stop." she smirks, watching the look in your eye become more flustered by her request. you slowly move your hand away from your mouth, not wanting this pleasure to ever stop.

"h-hail mary, full of grace—" you cut yourself off with a moan, eyes squeezing shut as you lift your hips, pushing your cunt further into ellie's face. "get to ruin this pretty pussy." ellie groans. "keep goin'. don't stop." she aids you to continue, feeling your cunt flutter around her tongue. "the lord is with— is with thee..." you continue, stuttering through the words. "good girl, keep goin' f'r me. let me hear you." she continues to egg you on, talking into your pussy. her own moans mixing in with the sound of yours.

"blessed art thou— ellie, please..." you whine, squeezing her hand and throwing your head back into the pillow, back arching off the bed. "c'mon, pretty girl. blessed art thou..." you toes curl at her words and the feeling of her tongue teasing your entrance. "—amongst... amongst women..." you trail off, mind becoming to hazy to even remember the words to the prayer you've prayed everyday since you could talk. ellie smirked into your cunt, relishing in the feeling of being able to turn your mind into mush, being the only one able to turn your mind into mush.

your moans and whines became breathier and higher pitched with each flick of her tongue. your stomach twisting in an unfamiliar knot. "ah, ah, ellie—" your thighs trying to clench together and push her head away, the feeling becoming too much. "you're gonna cum, baby?" she spreads your legs wider, her only greedy want is to make pleasure wash over you. "ellie! ellie! ellie!" you chant her name, eyes rolling back as the pleasurable wave of your orgasm finally hits you, moans loud and unfiltered.

"there we go... yeah, nice an' easy. fuck." she mutters, tongue fucking you through your high until your writhing and pushing her off of you. her lips relocating to your thighs and slowly working their way up to your pelvic bone, soft kisses against your skin. "tasted so good, baby. best pussy i've ever had." she praises, eager to show you just how much you pleasured her even though you technically didn't make her cum. "els..." you whined, face flushed a rosy red. "yeah, baby. 'm right here." she leaves a trail of kisses up your body as she reaches your lips, leaving a soft peck to let you know she was here. "does this mean you like me too...?" you asked innocently. "are you serious?"

another christian!reader x ellie williams fic!

[the-flaneur]

couples quiz gq (lh44)

pairing: husband!lewis hamilton x wife sports reporter!reader

summary: it’s the gq couples quiz time with your boo 💋

warnings: mentions some suggestive content

wc: 2165

[masterlist] [requests]

y/n: lew stop pushing my chair away, im moving out of the frame

(whispering)

the director’s going to be mad at me now

lewis: you want me to pull you back in?

y/n: le-lewis! im going to fall if you pull the chair in that fas-

y/n yelps loudly and looks like she’s going to fall but the clip is cut short by the editors

*cut*

y/n: hi everyone, i’m y/n m/n l/n-hamilton!

waves to the camera

lewis: and i’m lewis carl davidson hamilton

y/n turns towards lewis, with a mischievous look on her face, and in a matter of fact tone…

y/n: can’t forget the sir, lew

lewis: sorry darling

lewis rolls his eyes affectionately, before waving at the camera as well

hi, im sir lewis carl davidson hamilton. 

both: and today we’ll being doing gq’s couple quiz!

y/n: we had a competition last night to see who was going to start, and of course i wo-

lewis: you only won because you bribed roscoe into giving you the toy. we said we were going to play fai-

y/n: you also tried to bribe him, i just bribed him better. don’t try to fool everyone honey

y/n smirks, before pulling out her cue cards

so lew, where and how did we first meet?

lewis: well we first met back in 2015, at silverstone…it was actually a little bit silly how we met. i hadn’t realised that ted [kravitz] wasn’t going to be at the pitlane broadcast because he was sick. so when this absolutely gorgeous woman rocks up with a sky sports microphone and lanyard, i was so confused…

lewis trails off sheepishly while y/n laughs, reminiscing over the memory of their first encounter

and then of course i was blown away by her gorgeous presenting skills, even if she did really emphasise the pit crew’s interesting tactics during the race.

y/n: i was just doing my job…

y/n pouts sarcastically before lewis gently pats her arm

lewis: yes yes, i know darling. so after channelling seb’s now somewhat questionable flirting skills, i convinced her to go on a date with britain’s best tour guide.

y/n: sometimes i don’t know what my younger self was thinking, considering you almost insulted me during that date

lewis: it was just my unbelievable charm and wit - you cant resist the hamilton sex appeal

lewis mimes a hair flip, whilst y/n gags behind her hands, before shrugging

y/n: and i guess the rest is history.

*cut*

y/n: lew, what do you think is the most romantic thing you’ve ever done for me?

lewis: well i mean apart from my show stopping proposal last year, which i think undeniably will never be topped by anyone else in the history of proposals, if i do say so myself-

y/n: but no one else will know about all the details…

lewis: of course darling, my lips are sealed. 

lewis mimes zipping his lips and tossing away the key

apart from the proposal, i would probably have to say our first anniversary in 2018. of course, we had met back in 2015, but didn’t officially get together until late 2017. and of course being out first anniversary, i had to pull out all the stops.

y/n: to be fair, it had been a complete surprise considering it was our first anniversary together

y/n grins at lewis, grasping his hand in hers

lewis: i prepared an entire day of activities, like we went to the beach at sunrise and had a picnic, and then we went surfing for a bit…then we did a city wide scavenger hunt, going to all our favourite locations and reshooting pictures we originally had taken there, and then we went and had dinner with all our families, and then i proposed to her a darry promise ring…

y/n: ladies and gentlemen, if they wanted to, they would

y/n swoons and winks before frisbee-ing the cue card off screen

*cut*

y/n: what has been my favourite couple’s outfit we’ve done together?

lewis: well apart from when you’re wearing my clothes…

y/n rolls her eyes as lewis cheekily smiles at her

it would probably have to be this year’s met gala look. i honestly think all round, a significantly meaningful outfit which meant a lot to both of us. we both looked absolutely amazing, especially you darling.

y/n: correct!

y/n showers the camera with jazz hands

wearing a replica of junon was honestly the highest fashion honour i could’ve ever wished for. even if it was just a replica, i felt absolutely ethereal wearing it, and the craftsmanship was just as exquisite. the beading and layers of the dress are cut so beautifully…

and of course, seeing the real junon in person was even more spectacular. but your outfit was just as elegant and more impactful, lew.

lewis: of course i had the amazing privilege of being able to honour the work, life and story of john ystumllyn, who was one of britain’s first black gardeners. the emboridered flowers on the outside reflects the language of flowers, something which is also something so meaningful between my wife and i…

y/n and lewis look gently at each other for a minute, the camera capturing their serene and gentle smiles 

*cut*

y/n: another one, lew. what is your favourite thing about our two kids?

lewis: well of course, i love them both so much, since they’re half you and half me… hey don’t laugh at me baby

y/n laughs as lewis points at the camera

hey guys, your mum’s being mean to me now - but i love you guys so much, ok. dad loves you lots, more than your mum

y/n puts a sarcastic hand over her heart as if she’s been wounded by lewis’ words

y/n: babe lets be for real. i carried both our babies the entire pregnancy, i’ve practically become one with them. i love them the most

lewis: no matter which one of us loves them more, we’ll always play second fiddle to roscoe, babes. he’s like the babies’ number one protector, he’ll even sometimes stop y/n or i from cuddling them

y/n: yeah like father, like son

lewis: hey! what’s that supposed to mea-

*cut*

y/n: what is my favourite meal that you cook for me? this one is a bit difficult, considering you haven’t cooked for me since our last anniversary…

y/n pouts before lewis sighs again

lewis: i try my best…

lewis now addresses the camera

but this little lady likes to complain that vegan food sometimes only tastes like grass, so she always gets take out from the restaurants. 

but apart from that… i would think my dad’s oil down, taken straight from his mum’s recipe, is definitely a family favourite. the kids love when i take the time to make it, and it always makes the house smell great. y/n: definitely, the coconut and spices are always a fantastic combination in food we enjoy, like other cuisines like thai food - always amazing!

*cut*

y/n: final question from my side lew - if you had to describe our relationship in five words, what would they be?

lewis puts on a contemplative look, he’s really trying his hardest here

lewis: hmmmm, it’s a bit hard there’s just so many wonderful words to use

y/n: yes baby?

lewis: like judgemental, interesting, dramatic, inventive… there’s just so many wonderful words

y/n bursts into laughter at lewis’ deadpan stare into the camera

no but honestly…

lewis thinks thoughtfully, before holding onto his wife’s hands

the love i have for y/n and our family cannot be just described in five words. i love her more than i love anything else in this world, and i would give up anything to be with her forever…

y/n looks teary-eyed at lewis’ confession

y/n: lewis… i love you baby

lewis: i love you too darling

*cut*

y/n: now i guess it’s your turn lew, lets go

y/n mimes finger guns at her husband, before leaning back to lounge in her chair

lewis: what’s been your most recent favourite memory of ours?

y/n cups her hands around her mouth before discreetly whispering something to lewis, who giggles at her words before miming a not-so-subtle kiss

y/n: not that recent, but i think your silverstone victory. it was so emotional for everyone, especially having the kids there. they probably didn’t remember your last victory before then. of course i was so proud of you and the team, i couldn’t stop crying the entire time

lewis: the afterparty was extra special too; we had dinner with my whole family at our home in central london, although my dad complained we should’ve gone to stevenage and stayed at home longer

y/n: anthony just loves seeing his little boy at home, and his grandkids

y/n leans over a tugs on lewis’ cheek affectionately

*cut*

lewis: y/n, with your extensive motorsports knowledge, what does drs stand for?

y/n: daniel ricciardo supremacy of course - danny’s one of my favourites, especially when he drove for red bull. sorry seb

[subtitle: this was filmed before it was publicly known that daniel would NOT be driving for VCARB for the remainder of the season]

*cut*

lewis: who is or was your favourite driver to interview?

y/n: well, i mean apart from you - cause you’re just that willing to give me all the nice PR suited yet sometimes edgy commentary, i would probably have to say….

kimi

i mean he made my job both really easy and really hard, but he was always super nice to talk to off camera, so technically i got to interview him, just off camera, where he could talk a bit more freely

sorry kimi for outing your secret extrovert-ness

y/n sticks her tongue out, knowing kimi is very unlikely to see this video

*cut*

lewis: if we didn’t need to compromise on baby names, what would you have named our children?

y/n: do you want my really wacky answer, or the half truth answer?

lewis: hmmm… lets go with both.

y/n: well my real options would’ve been lewis jr and c/n, but i already call your di-

lewis, knowing where y/n was going with this quickly cups her mouth with his hand, before anything else comes out

lewis: are you sure that was the real answer?

y/n giggles from behind his hand, before moving it back down

y/n: well my wacky answers would’ve been nico and fernando so…. take your pick babes

*cut*

lewis: what’s my favourite tradition that we have?

y/n: our 2-2-2 date plan. i saw it on tiktok that one time, and sent it to lewis, who became obsessed with it. but in all honesty it works really well with our busy lifestyles, especially when i stay home with the kids. 

lewis: to be fair, the timing is not actually weeks, months and years since we work pretty often together, it’s more like days, weeks and months…

y/n: especially during the summer and winter breaks, cause their grandparents love looking after them then

lewis: roscoe too, he’s always with them, so he’s actually the person they see the most in their life sometimes y/n: but yeah, the date plan just gives us a way to properly structure time for us together, which can get so hectic during race weekends

*cut*

lewis: ok now the final question of the couples quiz - when is my birthda-... just kidding!

lewis chuckles whilst y/n bats the cards out of his hands in mock anger

just kidding darling… what do i love most about you?

y/n: my ass?

*cut*

lewis: well now i suppose it’s time to reveal the winner, which will obviously be me

y/n: no it’s obviously me, you barely remembered my five favourite drinks

lewis: i haven’t had alcohol in like forever, you can’t blame me for that. besides you almost forgot our anniversary date

lewis pouts, turning away from y/n

y/n: ughhhh, you’re gonna hold this over me forever, i already know it. i only had a slight lapse in memory because it’s so close to c/n’s birthday

director: regardless the final tally is…

[y/n and lewis both look up at the ceiling above them, where the numbers are displayed in the video. lewis’ shows a 14, whilst y/n’s shows a 20]

y/n: AHA! clearly the superior side of this couple now!

y/n cheers, throwing her hands up in the air

but i guess it was a shared victory. afterall, whenever i win, you win too babes

lewis: sure do, cause we’re one team and we rise together.

[gq closing screen plays]

permanent f1 taglist (comment or msg me to join)

@charlesgirl16

© the-flanuer || do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platform.

[fictionalmenxyn]

𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐭 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫

Pairing: Frat!Rafe x Reader

Warnings: swearing, suggestive, touchy Rafe (flirting/protective manner)

𖣘𖣘𖣘

You press both hands down in the horn.

“Let’s go fuckers it’s summer!”

You toot the horn two more times before hearing Rafe “shut the fuck up, princess! We’re coming, give us a chance!” You laugh as they stock up the back of your light blue bronco with beers and beach chairs.

Today was the first official day of Frat Summer. Meaning there were bond to be thousands of parties and hell of a load of college students getting shit faced and absolutely wrecked.

Frat Summers were like no other. Beach parties. Summer festivals. Concerts. More parties. Some hook ups. Topper and Kelce having their annual ‘how many girls they can kiss in one night’. You and Rafe wondering off on your own. Even more parties. The list goes on.

Rafe climbed into the passenger seat, leaning on the console to reach to you. Kissing your cheek he greeted “hey, you okay?” You nodded “yeah, you?” He nodded.

Topper and Kelce climbed into the back of the bronco. You looked in the rear view mirror “hey guys!” They both said their hellos.

You drove along the front, the breeze growing through your hair. The salt water smell becoming familiar yet exciting.

The boys having conversations of their own as you concentrate on driving. There was going to be a beach party this evening. To kick the summer off with a great start. You pull up to the parking lot. You took your keys out and shoved them into my denim shorts. All four of you getting out of the bronco, you all headed to the trunk.

Grabbing all the booze and beach chairs, you headed for the sand…

𖣘𖣘𖣘

The sky turning into an orange, the breeze getting ever so slightly stronger, the night started to creep up.

You held your corona bottle and danced to the music coming from some random guys speaker. You laughed with a few of your friends that showed up later throughout the evening.

A guy you and Rafe knew, since he was from another frat, started to approach you. He called out “Y/n, right?” You looked over your shoulder “who’s asking?” He chuckled “uh me actually, how’re you?” You turn around “good thanks, uh…” trying to think of his name. He laughed it off “it’s Tyler…” your eyes widen a little “Tyler!…. Right… who are you with tonight?” He nodded his head over to a group of guys “then lot, no girl today… thought you’d be here when I heard Topper and Kelce said you’d might be coming.” You nodded and sipped your drink.

God, this felt so awkward for you. You could feel Rafe’s eyes boring into your head. Well, the guys head, at least.

Rafe kept glancing over, ignoring the conversation he was in with Topper and Kelce. Keeping an eye out for you. Knowing that Tyler was a player and a fucking asshole in Rafe’s eyes. Rafe wasn’t the best, but he was better than Tyler. He treated you like you were the only woman in the world. You were a woman in his eyes, not a girl. Girls are the ones trying to get his attention or try to get in his bed. You though? We’re nothing like those girls.

Rafe had enough when he would see Tyler take another step closer to you. He handed his drink to Topper, saying ‘he’ll be back’.

Rafe casually walks over to the two of you. Acting as if he didn’t want to rip Tyler’s face off for just even approaching you.

Rafe rested his hand on your hip. He gave a nod to Tyler “Tyler, didn’t know you’d show up here…” you knew exactly what Rafe was doing. You hated it due to the cringe you felt. You were glad that Rafe looked out to you. But Rafe would purposely make things awkward so the guy would leave.

Tyler replied “yeah, thought I’d swing by, didn’t expect to be chatting with Y/n this long, eh?” He laughed as if it was a joke. Rafe didn’t laugh and you looked down to the floor resting my palm on your forehead.

Rafe looked down to you, knowing you were struggling to keep your face from cringing. He spoke loud enough for Tyler to hear “hey, sweetheart, can you grab me another drink? Please?” You sigh quietly in relief. You nodded and turn to head over to one of the many coolers.

As you start to walk away, Rafe’s hand connected with your right ass cheek. The smack causes you to roll your eyes. Knowing that was for both him and the fact he wanted Tyler to take his eyes off of you.

You headed over to the cooler grabbing two beer bottles. Using your belt buckle to open them. You walked over to where the guys had settled up their chairs. You sat in Rafe’s seat as he continued ‘chatting’ to Tyler.

After what felt like hours, Rafe returned. You glanced over to Tyler who was walking back over to his friends with his head hanging low.

You look up to Rafe “what the fuck have you said?” Rafe chuckles. Sitting on the towel next to the beach chair you sat on. He rested his head on your knee “just chatted to him that’s all…nothing too bad, princess” you roll your eyes then thought it was probably best not to push it any further.

Rafe wrapped his arm around your leg, tracing patterns into your shin with his fingers.

The night was good, summer had been kicked off to a good start. Even if Rafe had to already deal with a guy trying to chat you up. You couldn’t wait for what else summer may have for you.

𖣘𖣘𖣘

(AN: I’m missing summer sm rn, I hate winter where I live, it’s hardly snow and all rain. Anyways a smut for you all tomorrow! If you want any smut reqs they’re open! Have a good day/night)

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 3

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

The shadows unceremoniously dumped a whole stack of Sellyn Drake Novels on Azriel’s desk.

Azriel eyed the stack of novels dubiously, wondering how in the Mother's blessed name the Shadows had gotten their hands on these. Or why.

But they stayed silent, clearly waiting for him to outright demand an answer. *Why?* he asked with a long suffering sigh. *What's this about?*

No response.

Azriel reached for one of the books, pulling it off the top of the stack and flipping it over. And immediately he regretted that decision. The cover was…certainly something.

A shirtless man holding a rather skimpily dressed woman up against a wall. 

Azriel let out a long, long sigh.

*You need to read the books, Master,* the shadows told him seriously.

Azriel stared at his shadows, then at the books, then at his shadows. *You cannot possibly be serious.* What exactly was this supposed to give him? 

He flipped it over, reading the synopsis. 

When Lady Eleanor is forced into an unwanted marriage, she despairs—until the enigmatic Sir Tristan, a battle-scarred knight with a fearsome reputation, crashes into her life. Bound by a promise to protect her, Tristan whisks Eleanor away from her gilded prison, thrusting them into a wild escape across enemy lands.

Haunted by his past and wary of love, Tristan tries to keep Eleanor at arm's length. But as they face danger together, a fierce passion grows between them, tempting them to trust in a love that could heal even the deepest wounds.

What the fuck. 

*We are, Master.* The Shadows told him, sounding as earnest as they possibly could.

He opened the book. Titled The Dark Knight’s Desire, flicking through the pages. Was this…a first edition?

*It’s important!* The shadows insisted. *You know…to brush up on these flirting skills of yours.*

Azriel shot the shadows an unamused look. *I can flirt perfectly well,* he protested.

*You most certainly cannot.* The Shadows deadpanned. *It’s research! Read them for her!*

*Read them for…* Azriel started, his voice trailing off.

*You found...* he trailed off weakly. They had found a female for him?

The shadows swirled around him almost playfully. *Of course we did,* they said innocently. *We told you we would, didn’t we?*

They were working quickly. It had only been weeks since he had agreed to let them find him a wife.

*You did,* Azriel said slowly, but his mind was working fast, so fast, trying to wrap around the idea that his Shadows were trying to help him find a wife…and more importantly, that they had found a female they thought he would find suitable.

*Where did you find her?* he asked, carefully.

*Here in Velaris!* the shadows answered brightly.

*Here?* Azriel asked, his surprise obvious. The shadows had found...a female...here in Velaris? Someone who was compatible with him? And they wanted him to read...what were these again? Sellyn Drake novels? So he would know how to best romance this female?

*Read the books, Master,* the shadows said with a sigh. So he did.

And that was how Azriel spent his next few hours. Reading a book, and blushing like some sort of adolescent boy when certain…particularly intimate scenes came around. The Shadows cackled beside him the entire time.

How the fuck did Nesta do this with a straight face?!?

Azriel had no idea, but by the Mother, he was never going to ask her. Ever. He would just die of embarrassment.

Though he needed to admit...he actually quite liked it.

The novels, that is. The…intimate scenes. Azriel liked them. A lot. Not even the...smut, like Nesta called it...no, he liked the love story. He liked the two people that came together and would do everything for each other...the falling in love part. He liked that.

But the Shadows were probably never going to let him live this down. Azriel did find comfort in a single thought, though. Whoever this possible future partner was, she was never going to know about this. There was no way in hell he would let her find out that he read smutty books to brush up his flirting skills.

But even that did not stop the nagging thought in Azriel's head, one that made him hesitate, and doubt himself, and doubt the Shadows' judgment. "What if..." he said softly, hesitantly. "What if she just...doesn't like me?"

He knew he had some...rough edges, to put it kindly. And he had his own...troubles. His own...insecurities. Some of the things he kept to himself, so many of his...issues. The shadows knew of them all, of course…There were many nights they stayed up with him, soothing him when the ghosts in his mind became a little too loud, a little too real.

What if that scared her? He didn't want her to be scared. He didn't want to scare her.

*She'll like you, Master.* The Shadows assured him, wrapping themselves around him comfortingly and soothingly. *She’ll love you.*

He exhaled. *Can you read minds now?*

*Only yours,* the Shadows assured him. *But as long as you don't cheat on her with her sister, you'll be doing a better job than her ex-partners!*

What. 

"Are you seriously reading a Sellyn Drake novel?" Only 5 centuries of training kept him from flinching as he looked up to find Cassian in his doorway.

"Nesta said it was good," he shot back flatly, not hiding the book, because that would just give Cassian even more reason to tease him. 

"You...actually listen to Nesta's...book recommendations?" Cassian stared at him, as if he had grown a third head.

"She is intelligent, and she reads more than either of us," Azriel shot back, sharply. "So yes, if she says it's good, I'll try it."

Cassian gave a slight shake of his head, not believing what he was hearing. "You are…actually reading a Sellyn Drake novel?" He repeated as if he couldn't quite believe that Azriel was actually doing that.

"Yes," Azriel said, his words clipped. "You have a problem with that?"

Cassian just stared at him for a long moment before letting out a quiet laugh. "No, I just never thought I would actually see the day that you read a Sellyn Drake novel."

"Well, I like it," Azriel said evenly. "It’s very are well written."

"And smutty," Cassian said with a grin.

Azriel rolled his eyes. "It’s are more than just...smut, Cassian, It actually has a story, and good characters."

"Characters who can barely keep their hands off each other long enough to solve the mystery, you mean," Cassian drawled, but Azriel ignored him, flipping a page. 

."Have you ever actually read a Sellyn Drake novel, Cassian?" Azriel asked, shooting him a look. "Or do you simply judge by the covers?"

Cassian just grinned, clearly enjoying this conversation and how defensive Azriel had become. "The covers are pretty damn attractive though."

Azriel rolled his eyes at that comment, but didn't respond. Just looked back down at the book, completely ignoring his brother.

"Are you coming to dinner tonight?" Cassian asked him instead. 

"No," he answered flatly. He did really want to know how the book ended.

*We found a house! We can show it to you!* the shadows hissed at that moment. Huh.

"There is something that needs my attention," Azriel said simply.

Cassian gave him a searching look, a frown etched into his face, but Azriel simple met his gaze. 

"Az," Cassian said quietly. "Come on."

"I have something I need to do, Cassian." Azriel's voice was still flat, but more firm, a clear sign that he did not want any arguments.

"Az," Cassian said again, and this time, there was a small thread of pleading in his voice. "Just… come have dinner with us. Please. It'll be good for you."

Good? Good to sit at Rhys' table and be told to "behave"? Azriel would rather eat crushed glass than do that. Which was the reasons why he skipped out of them as often as he possible could.

He knew, he knew that Cassian was just looking out for him, but that didn't mean that he felt like he was obligated to go.

"I have something I need to do," he repeated, his voice even.

Cassian sighed. "You are so goddamn stubborn," he muttered, but he let the subject drop, clearly knowing that Azriel was not going to listen.

That evening, instead of sitting through that dinner, Azriel let the shadows swirl around him in excitement, tugging on his jacket, practically dragging him forward.

*It's a lovely house, Master!* they said as they wrapped him in their embrace.

He blinked twice as he rematerialised in front of a lake. Somehow not quite what he had expected. But then…then he saw the house.

Grey stone and wood and the biggest windows he had ever seen that promised an breathtaking view over the lake… and nobody around as far as he could see. He stared at the house, a brow raised. It was nice…very nice. A little too nice. Exactly too his taste.

Azriel turned towards the shadows as he raised another brow. *And how exactly did you…* he started with a huff. *You know what, nevermind.*

He could already hear the shadows saying that they asked for a favor in exchange. Or maybe they stole it.

The house was still nice though, perfect really. He just…didn't want to know what they had done to get it.

Azriel glanced towards the building again. He could almost picture himself in the space, walking around, just….simply existing. It was peaceful and quiet…and he would not be…disturbed or bothered.

He could see himself reading in front of the fireplace, looking out into the night sky through the large windows. 

Azriel walked towards the building, his fingers brushing over the wall. He could feel it already….he could already feel his muscles loosening, his shoulders lowering from their stiff position.

Home, he thought as stepped into the space, the shadows following after him as his lips tugged upwards.

Yes, he could already see himself calling it that. Home. He liked the ring of it. 

*You're welcome, Master,* the shadows said as they swirled around him, nuzzling him affectionately. They were happy for him, so very happy for him.

The living room was spacious, filled with  overstuffed couches and armchairs made for wings… the view indeed was spectacular. And one long uninterrupted wall was lined with tall, massive bookshelves.

It was perfect.

*Does she like books?* he couldn't help but ask.

*Yes, Master! She loves books!* The Shadows assured him in an excited chorus.

She liked to read. That was the first little tidbit of information he learned about her.

*Will you tell me something else about her?* he asked them softly, as he kept exploring the house.

*What do you want to know?* the shadows asked.

*Did her ex-partner really cheat on her with her sister?* he wondered aloud.

*Yes. They are engaged to be married now,* the shadows answered. *He's an asshole,* they muttered darkly.

Azriel couldn't help but give a nod in agreement. An ass was too kind. Whoever he was, he was more than that. Azriel hated him, whoever he was.

*Anything else?* he asked the shadows, curious, so damn curious, to know more about the female.

*She has a cat. His name is Hector. He may be the ugliest cat in existence,* the shadows said primly, *but she adores him.*

Not what he expected, but it was...sweet. It was kind. She had a pet cat. His lips tugged upwards into an involuntary smile.

*And...?* he trailed off, waiting for a response. He was greedy, so damn greedy for more, so greedy to get to know the female more. His curiosity about her had grown to a fever pitch, it seemed.

The Shadows hummed thoughtfully. *She is very, very kind, Master,* they finally said softly.

Those words caused Azriel's smile to go soft, so damn soft. His heart fluttered at the Shadows' words. She was kind. She was kind and she had a cat that she adored. Her ex was an ass who cheated on her. She read, liked books, which meant she was intelligent, and…

Was he getting excited about someone he had never even met?

*When...when can I meet her?* he asked softly.

*Soon,* the shadows promised. *She doesn't leave the house that often...*

Azriel's brows drew together at that. *Why not?* he asked quietly, not sure if he really wanted the answer to that question.

The Shadows hesitated for a moment before responding. *People...people aren't very nice to her,* they admitted slowly.

Azriel blinked, confused. People...weren't nice to her...? But…why? What was there not to be nice about? From what he had gleaned, she was kind, had a cat, was smart, and liked books. What was wrong with any of that? It didn't make any sense.

*Why?* he demanded shaprly.*Because people are idiots as usual,* the shadows snapped right back. *People aren't nice to you either.*

Azriel gave a small wince at that, the shadows words hitting him like a bucket of ice cold water. But they were right, people weren't all the nicest to him, either.

Still...he didn't like the idea of her being treated poorly. He wanted...Gods, the want was so strong, all of a sudden. The want to…to protect her. To guard her, and protect her. To keep her safe. To make sure she was alright.

*Tell me when she leaves her house,* he demanded.

For a moment he could swear the shadows were nearly frozen in place.

*Change of Plans. Put on a different shirt,* the shadows said quickly. Azriel just stared at them.

*A different shirt?* he asked. He didn't even have any clothing here! That was back at the House of Wind. But the shadows were clearly not taking no for an answer.

He batted away a tendril as it started to unbuckle his fighting leathers and did it himself, only for them to shove him into a shirt that was so dark green it was nearly black and then start fussing with his hair.

Azriel barely had time to even process what was happening before the shadows were pushing him towards the door, still trying to fix and smooth his hair and clothes as they moved forward.

*What is the change of plan?* he asked them

*You are getting to see her right now,* the shadows said with a hint of glee to their voice. *Her sister and some friends are taking her to a bar.*

*The same sister that cheated on her with her ex-partner?* he demanded.

*Yes,* the shadows agreed in a hiss. 

Great. So he was going to have to stop a fight from happening, all while trying to meet the female he apparently was connected to? That was a...recipe for disaster right there..

*She'll be at the Crystal Drop* the shadows informed him, and his heart gave a strange little clench at those words. He was...he was actually going to get to meet her. Tonight.

The feeling of excitement was back, rushing through him like a wildfire. But there was also a hint of trepidation, a hint of nervousness. What if he screwed it all up? What if he messed things up? His stomach was suddenly full of butterflies.

Azriel didn't have time to dwell on those thoughts, though, as the shadows gave him a little nudge forward again, all but forcing him to start moving towards the tavern.

He could see it in the distance, the sign proclaiming it as “Crystal Drop”. It...it was right there. She was there... 

Taking a deep breath, he headed towards the bar, his heart pounding in his chest with every step that he took closer to the entrance. Gods, his hands were shaking. 

He was nervous. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was

He entered the tavern, and his eyes automatically went to the crowd, searching for...something.

The shadows let him towards a place in a corner where he could view the whole bar and he ordered a single fireale, because he was not getting drunk. He wanted his wits about him when he met her. 

But right now…right now, Azriel settled in to watch.

He watched the crowd, his eyes roving around, searching the whole tavern once again. He just wanted to know where the group was. He wanted to know where...she was.

*Do you see her, Master?* the shadows asked him, nearly teasingly.

*I have absolutely no clue how she looks, so how should I?* he gave back in a growl. The door opened and he watched as a group of females poured in...and then right there at the edges of that group...

His breath caught in his throat as his eyes fell on her, and...oh.

Between one blink and the next everything changed. A golden bond unfurled in his chest, connecting him to her.

Her.

He knew it.

She was his mate.

Mine. He whispered in his head, barely more than a thought. He knew it with every fiber of his being, every part of his heart.

He took her in hungrily. 

She was so beautiful. So, so beautiful. Azriel had to physically restrain himself from going over to her right then and there. 

He could hardly breathe. He couldn't form a coherent thought. His whole world had suddenly narrowed to the sight in front of her. His mate.

*Master?* There was alarm in the shadows voices as his breathing became near erratic.

*She's...You found my mate,* he said weakly.

The shadows hummed in confirmation and his eyes were glued to her still, drinking her in. She had long brown hair with soft curls, falling over back, bangs framing a rounded face with high cheekbones and plump cheeks...full rosy lips too and adorable freckles dotting over her nose...

She was the most beautiful being he had ever seen.  She was simply...stunning. 

And mine, he thought to himself. She was his. She was his mate.

He didn't even look at the rest of the group. Just focused on the one...the one who was at the edge of the group, seemingly trying to vanish, to become invisible. 

Even from the distance, Azriel could see the tension in his mate’s form. He frowned slightly at that. He didn't like it, seeing her like that.

He...his instincts were starting to kick in, a soft, protective urge rising up in him. He wanted to go to her, to...to stand by her side and ease away whatever was bothering her. But he stayed rooted to the spot, just...just watching her. Just watching his mate, the sight of her soothing every single little part of him until he felt warm all over.

He let the group settle at a table a few feet away from him, forcing himself to look down on the bottle in front of him and not stare at his mate like a total creep.

If he strained his ears, he could hear the whole conversation. Apparently it was his mate’s sisters Hen Party, the kind of celebration that some High Fae Females had before they got married.

Nice. Why not bring along your sister, when you were engaged to the guy that cheated with you on said sister?

The fact that his mate even came along into this bar that evening was probably a sign of how fucking nice she was. And Gods...no wonder his mate was so anxious...this whole thing was just...a disaster waiting to happen.

He glanced towards the group again, his attention once again immediately falling on his mate. He could see it, the small twitch of her fingers, the tightening of her lips...the small little things, and he felt his heart wrench at the sight.

She didn't talk. She was just sitting there silently, while the other females had a raucous conversation, that she wasn't part of. It made him bristle.

He didn't understand why they were doing that, why she wasn't a part of the conversation. She was right there. But they weren't listening, they weren't noticing her...or maybe they were ignoring her on purpose.

He...he didn't like it. He didn’t like it at all.  

Just minutes later, Azriel realised that he should have wished that they kept ignoring her.

Because Azriel was quite certain that he was going to slit his mate's sister's throat with Truthteller if she said one more word. 

The blonde, her sister, stared at his mate and this time a sharp, nasty smile curled on her lips. "Oh, what's the matter, little sister? Mad that I nabbed the male you were going to marry?" she taunted with a malicious grin. "I guess he just liked me better."

Azriel was so shocked that he could just sit there, staring. 

The other females laughed as the blonde continued, her lips curled in a sneer. "You should be happy for me, really," she said, her voice sugary sweet. "After all, you could never keep him happy. You've always been useless, haven't you?"

The comments made Azriel see red. What the hell was wrong with this female? Who treated their own sister like this? 

He had half a mind to go over there and wring her neck. 

*Don’t,* his shadows hissed. *You’ll make it worse.*

*Make it worse?! It can’t fucking get worse!* he hissed back. 

He itched to go over to the group, to protect his mate from these cruel, cruel words. 

*Yes, it can,* the shadows snapped. *What do you want to do? Massacre her sister right in front of her?!* Azriel growled under his breath. 

*Normally you are much more bloodthirsty,* he complained to the shadows. 

*You are the fucking spymaster. Act like it,* the shadows snapped. *You want us to make her sister’s life a misery? We’ll do it. We’ll do it and it will never be traced back to you. Besides, she deserves worse than a quick death.*

He clenched his teeth. 

The other females were laughing, but his mate...wasn't. She wasn't saying a single word, wasn't defending herself, wasn't saying anything. Just...just sitting there and taking the horrible abuse with a neutral, blank expression on her face.

"Cat got your tongue?" her sister asked her with a roll of her eyes. "I mean, it's not like you're good at talking, are you?" she asked her with a cruel little laugh. "Too bad for you that males want females that are able to have a conversation, not awkward little things who can't even speak when spoken to."

Azriel's body tensed as he listened to the words, every muscle coiled tight. It took every ounce of his control not to stride over to the group of females and punch her sister straight in the face. The only thing he wanted to do in that moment was to protect his mate.

The comment clearly found it's target, Azriel could see his mate flinch at the words, her face crumbling momentarily before it smoothed over into a neutral expression again. Gods...it must've hurt so badly to hear her sister speak to her like that…

*We’ll ruin her fucking life,* he vowed to the shadows. 

*Agreed, Master.”

Her sister rolled her eyes another time. "Come on, let's go," she told the other females. "You have the bill, don't you, Skylar?"

The words made Azriel snap. So the sister hadn't intended to even pay for her drinks in the first place? It was…they had just used her, he realised suddenly. Used her for the first stop on their tavern tour, to pick up the drink tab…and that was all she was good for in their eyes…

It was...Azriel couldn't stand by and watch this anymore, it made him so angry. So fucking furious.

"Ye...yes," his mate stuttered.

She looked so small in that moment, her eyes averted, her shoulders slumped, her hands trembling. She looked...wounded, so hurt, and Azriel was...he was sick of seeing her just accept this verbal abuse without a word. 

They left. They should thank the cauldron that they left at that moment, because otherwise Azriel would have made Cassian at his worst look like a puppy.

He wanted to storm after them, to give every single person in the group a piece of his mind, but that could wait. The most important thing right now was his mate. She was still here, after all. Azriel took a deep breath, and slowly, almost hesitantly walked towards her.

He watched as she didn't move, and he finally decided to speak, his voice a low, soft murmur. "Mind if I sit here?" he asked, gesturing to the chair beside her.

Her head turned, and he felt his heart stop as her eyes met his for the first time. Up close, her eyes were...mesmerizing. A deep, sparkling blue, framed by long, lush eyelashes. He couldn't look away from her.

And she stared at him, her mouth slightly open, her eyes near comically wide.

He gave her a soft, slow smile. "Hi," he greeted her, his voice gentle. She blinked a few times, still staring at him, and he found it so cute, how shocked she was that he was talking to her. 

Her mouth opened but no words came out. She was staring at him like a poor bunny rabbit would at an apex predator , caught in his grasp.

For just a moment her scent went utterly haywire.

Caramel and Hazelnuts. So sugary sweet that he would have gladly rolled around in it. And she just stared at him, wide eyed, silent...until suddenly the scent changed to incadescent happiness.

"Oh." A small sound escaped her as she swallowed.

And he knew. He knew at that moment that the bond had just snapped for her.

[strawberrykidneystone]

straight to the point

sevika x female reader

summary: sevika wants a new piercing and wanders (has researched thoroughly before coming) into your shop

a/n: google search how to get another tattoo without disappointing my grandma

tags: piercer!reader, needles, flirting, kinda ooc sevika (?), a little sweet awkwardness

ao3 version

as far as cleanliness standards go in zaun, your shop was heads above the back alley piercers and tattoo shops. for one, you never reused the same needles and you had an autoclave that you used to sanitize the jewelry you offered, as well as the questionable jewelry that your clients brought in.

safe to say that most of your clients were high end criminals who could spare the coin to get the best experience possible in the undercity.

in your tiny corner shop, you were the main piecer and you cycled in various tattoo artists. a lot of them started by tattooing on the streets and developed their own styles, giving them the proper equipment helped them make masterpieces that you’re sure even the prissy piltover citizens would be impressed by. the building itself was pretty small with the shop downstairs and your apartment upstairs. you had a display desk up front with a dinky antique register sitting against the wall that didn’t open half the time. there were two main salon-type chairs in the room facing toward each other, with a small room in the back for more intimate placements of tattoos/piercings. the leather on the chairs were originally a neon pink that faded into more of a peach with patches over scratches on the chairs and ink stains. the walls were covered in graffiti, you invited in local kids to paint around and express themselves; which basically meant that your walls were covered in jinx propaganda right now. you wouldn’t believe the amount of people who came in for new ear piercings and cloud tattoos who also had blue hair.

today was a bit quieter than usual, you had no appointments and your tattoo artist gotten done early today so you were busy going over your books while leaning on the counter on your elbows. the bells of your door jingled and you looked up, locking eyes with the most gorgeous woman you’d ever seen. she had a very short haircut above her ears, a mechanical arm that had a green… head? attached to it, piercing grey eyes, and a very strong build. swallowing thickly, you smiled warmly at the tall woman, “hey there, how can i help you?”

she trudged up to the counter as though she was unsure if she actually wanted to do this, her eyes glued down into the display case, “i’d uh, like a piercing please.”

you nodded along and tilted your head, trying to follow her eye line as to which piece she was looking at, “well you’re definitely in the right place for that, what are you looking to get?”

she met your eyes again, god it was like looking up at the sky during a storm, a nervous sigh leaving her lips, “what would you get?”

the question startled you a little, people usually come in and know exactly what they want. you hummed and studied her face, wondering what would look good with her proportions.

“hmm well for you, i would get either a medusa piercing or a labret,” you suggested and pointed to the middle of your cupid’s bow and underneath your bottom lip.

she attentively watched your finger like a cat following a laser and subconsciously licked her lips. her eyes lingered on your lips long enough that it brought a blush to your cheeks, how the hell were you going to get through this appointment in one piece? she shook her head and snapped out of it, glancing down at the case once again, “could i see what it would look like?”

“of course,” you nodded and pulled out a case that had an array of studs with different ends, base colors, and backs. she ended up picking out a silver disk stud and you couldn’t help but notice how her ears turned a little red when you praised her, “good choice.”

picking up the middle of the piercing with a clamp, you held it up to her and turned the desk mirror towards her. she softly took the clamp from you, brushing her rough hands against yours, the small touch making your heart flutter like a pair of butterfly wings. she inspected the stud in the mirror and curiously held the silver jewelry above her lips and below. you couldn’t help but watch as the stud passed over her full lips, lips with a dark gloss shining off of them that you’d love to mix with your current lipstick-

fuck stop that, remain professional.

you took a deep breath to refocus and plastered on your least horny smile, “either one calling your name?”

she clicked her tongue and stood back up to her full height, her brows knitted together in concern, “i can’t decide which one to get.”

“you’d look good with either one, plus you can always get one now and the other later,” you mused, kicking yourself to bring your mind back to down to the ground.

she hummed and looked down at you, her eyes trailing from one eye to the other, down to your lips, and back up, making a triangle.

you were so fucked.

“i’ll get the labret sweetheart,” she said definitively and handed the clamp back to you, the pet name rolling off her tongue so naturally it made your knees weak.

you mindlessly nodded and took the clamp from her, sliding over a clipboard with your liability paperwork on it with a sparkly pen.

she raised an eyebrow at the pen, but picked it up anyway, vaguely scanning over the words as she signed and dated her name at the bottom. you quickly busied yourself with sanitizing the stud she picked out in the machine and setting up your station with all the proper tools. you could feel her eyes watching you, a surge of confidence flowing through you at the nickname she called you, so you made an extra effort to swing your hips side to side as you moved around your station, bending down to pick up a plastic bag that you “dropped”. you heard her suck in a sharp inhale, a grin tugging on your lips as you straightened back up. walked back over to the counter, you glanced over the paperwork.

“sevika, that’s a pretty name,” you practically purred out, fluttering your lashes at her.

“yeah? you got a name to go along with your pretty face?” she quipped, a half smirk on her black lips.

“i guess you should know the person who’s about to shove a needle through your face, i’m y/n,” you smiled and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“a lovely name for a lovely lady,” she complimented and raked her eyes across your body.

you giggled shyly and shook your head, tilting your head towards the chair behind you, “c’mon back pretty girl, let’s get you pierced.”

she followed you back to your station and sat back in the chair, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. after snapping on a pair of your favorite colored gloves, you prepped the back of the piercing to go into the hollow needle once it was through and grabbed a marker.

standing directly in front of her, practically standing between her thighs, you had to force yourself to look back into those piercing grey eyes.

“i’m going to make a small mark where the piercing will go and then you can check the placement, is it okay if i touch your face?" you asked softly, a shy blush tinting your cheeks.

sevika gulped and quietly nodded, this time averting her eyes from you. you softly pinched her chin between your fingers and turned her head to face you directly. you leaned forward and mapped out her bottom lip to find a true middle and pressed a small dot onto the skin beneath her full lips, feeling her hot breath fan out on the back of your hand. quickly pulling back to stop yourself from kissing her, you practically shoved the hand mirror into her hands and barely squeaked out, “if you want to move it, it’s no problem!”

you took a step back and looked to the side of the room to give her some decision time, trying to ignore how beautiful her lips were and how desperately you wanted to kiss them. she carefully admired the mark in the mirror and hummed, nodding in approval, "looks good to me."

"perfect," you chirped and took the mirror from her, explaining the process of the piercing very briefly as she nodded along, brushing her short hair out of her face when a few strands got stuck to her eyelashes. god, you wish you were the one pushing her hair back.

you cleared your throat and picked up the piercing clamp, turning to her with a smile, "go ahead and open your mouth for me."

she did as you asked and looked up towards the ceiling as you placed the clamp in position over her bottom lip with the dot you made on her skin earlier. you gently positioned your hand holding the clamp vertically and grabbed the hollow needle from your station, lining it up with the dot.

"go ahead and take a deep breath in for me dear," you said calmly, getting into the zone as you focused in on doing the piercing correctly despite the handsome woman in front of you.

she inhaled deeply through her nose and once you were sure that she had taken a deep enough breath, you directed her, "and go ahead and breathe out."

as soon as she started to let the air out of her mouth, you pushed the needle through her skin and pulled the clamp down, holding her bottom lip open towards you.

"good job, worst parts over," you praised, earning an amused huff from sevika.

you let go of the needle and put the back of the piercing into the hole, pulling the needle back through the way it came with the jewelry sticking out in its place. you screwed the top disk onto the piercing and removed the clamp, admiring the slight puffiness of her bottom lip. holding up the mirror to her again, you smiled brightly as a sense of pride flowing through you, ''whatddya think?"

sevika held the mirror up and admired the new piercing from every angle, a satisfied smirk gracing her lips, "i love it."

you giggled and cleaned up your station, disposing of the needle and putting the clamp in the sanitizer machine. sauntering over to one of your cabinets and pulling out a small blue bag, you put together a goody bag with saline solution, aftercare instructions, and piercing floss for later on.

walking back over to her and holding out the bag, you couldn't help the smile on your lips as her fingers brushed against hers, "for it to heal properly, no smoking, drinking, kissing, or uh oral sex for at least 3 weeks."

one of her eyebrow cocked at the last rule before a decisive smile came to her lips. she followed you back up to the counter and paid for the service, leaving a hefty tip.

“so, could i take you on a date in 3 weeks?”

you blinked at her owlishly, processing what she just asked you. quickly regaining your composure, you asked nonchalantly, “is that for a kiss or for oral sex?”

“both if you’re lucky.”

the two of you laughed and you agreed, scribbling your number down on a stray piece of paper. when she held out her hand to take it from you, you held up a finger and folded the paper in half, sealing it with a kiss that left a mark from your lipstick.

she blinked in surprise as you pressed it into her hand with a wink, “a preview for 3 weeks from now.”

sevika chuckled and shook her head, pocketing the paper, “you little minx.”

you giggled and waved as she left, checking out her ass as she walked out of your shop.

this was going to be the longest 3 weeks of your life.

a/n: writing fan fiction is crazy like why am i watching multiple labret piercing videos to describe the process right

part 2

taglist: @maneskinwh0re @archangeldyke-all

[liz-on-leash]

Live To Breed

[Commissioned]

VIVIZ SinB/Hwang Eunbi

Gangrape, Mentioned Death, BBC Tribesmen, Breeding, A Lot Of Cum, Vaginal Fuck, Anal, Pregnant Fuck, Some Other Heavy Stuff.

3,919 Word.

The day started like any other for VIVIZ, but shit was about to hit the fan in the most fucked-up way possible. SinB, the feisty one, Eunha, and sweet Umji were bouncing around in their jeep, deep in the heart of the African jungle, looking for some thrill.

The girls were living their best lives, laughing and joking, when all hell broke loose. A freaking stampede came outta nowhere, like some shit from a horror movie. The driver hit the brakes, but it was a lost cause. 

The jeep went flying, and SinB went airborne, straight into a goddamn tree. Her clothes ripped like wet tissue paper, and she was left bruised and bleeding, screaming her lungs out.

"FUUUUCK!" SinB howled in agony, her voice raw as a guttural scream. Her sexy outfit was in shreds, exposing her smooth skin, now marked with scratches and cuts that would make a horror flick proud. 

She tried to get her ass up, but her body was like jelly, trembling and weak. Where the hell were Eunha and Umji? She cried out for them, her voice fading in the vast jungle.

The jungle, usually buzzing with life, went dead quiet, like it was mourning the crazy shit that just went down. SinB's pleas for help bounced off the trees, her voice cracking with each desperate call. 

The pain was a bitch, clouding her vision, but she fought to stay conscious, refusing to black out. As the sun started its slow descent, painting the sky with fiery colors, a crew of hulking dudes appeared, straight out of a tribal wet dream. 

These motherfuckers were ripped, their dark skin glistening with sweat, and all they wore were tiny-ass loincloths that left nothing to the imagination. Their bodies were inked up with tribal tats, and their eyes held a wild intensity.

SinB's mouth hung open as she took in the sight, momentarily forgetting her pain. These dudes were built like gods, and their sheer size made her feel like a tiny doll. 

They muttered to each other in some ancient tongue, their deep voices rumbling like thunder, probably discussing the hot mess of a woman in front of them.

"Help... please, help me," SinB managed to whisper, her voice scratchy and weak. The men's eyes narrowed, their gazes intense enough to burn holes through her. 

They didn't give a shit about her plea, probably thinking she was some crazy jungle spirit. The biggest dude among them strode over, his muscles flexing with each step. He scooped SinB up like she weighed nothing, causing her to whimper.

This beast of a man carried her through the jungle like she was his prize catch. SinB's eyes darted around, taking in the unfamiliar sights of their camp. It was like a scene from a National Geographic documentary, with buff dudes going about their business, their bodies glistening with sweat and dirt.

These savages didn't waste time with pleasantries. They ripped what was left of SinB's clothes, leaving her in her skimpy underwear, her curves on full display. 

She tried to cover up, but these guys didn't give a damn about modesty. They cleaned her wounds, their rough hands exploring her body, and wrapped her up with some dirty-ass cloth.

"Fuck off!" SinB tried to fight, but it was like a kitten swatting at a lion. A sharp slap landed on her face. "Ugh!" She tasted blood, her lip split open. Another jab to her ribs had her gasping, reminding her just how helpless she was.

The men finished patching her up and shoved some weird-ass herbal shit down her throat. SinB choked and spluttered, her eyes watering from the bitter taste. 

Satisfied, two of them grabbed her, ignoring her weak struggles, and hauled her ass to a nearby barn. Inside, it was like a damn dungeon, filled with terrified women from different corners of the world.

The women were a sorry sight, some crying their eyes out, others moaning in pain, their bellies swollen with pregnancy. SinB's heart hammered in her chest as she realized she'd landed in some tribal sex cult's lair. She tried to scream, but her voice was shot.

Just then, all hell broke loose outside. A group of the tribal dudes, their massive cocks swinging free, dragged a screaming woman outta the camp. Her pleas were met with laughter and crude catcalls.

The men's laughter was like a sick chorus, their eyes wild with lust. SinB's blurry vision focused on their massive dicks, already hard as steel, ready to invade some poor woman's body.

The men wasted no time, and the woman's screams echoed through the camp, a haunting soundtrack to the night's twisted festivities. SinB's eyes fluttered, her mind overwhelmed by the day's events. 

The last thing she saw before passing out was the terrified faces of the captive women, knowing their fate was about to get a whole lot worse.

The night had turned into a fucked-up, twisted sex fest, and SinB was front-row center for this sick tribal ritual. Her eyes popped open as the barn erupted with screams and moans.

The women, who were once crying their eyes out, were now getting pounded by these tribal beasts, their cries echoing like a damn horror movie.

"Oh fuck, mercy, please! No more!" a woman begged, her voice raw from screaming her lungs out. But the men just kept pounding her from every angle, their dark, sweaty bodies slamming into her like wild animals.

"Harder, you motherfuckers! Break me in half!" another chick screamed, her body bucking as two dudes took turns drilling her, their cocks stretching her holes like she was some damn sex toy. 

The scene was brutal, but damn, it was hot as hell. Even the preggo ladies weren't off-limits.

"No, not my ass! My baby... oh, fuck, no!" a pregnant woman wailed, her eyes rolling back as a dude hammered her ass, not giving a damn about her swollen belly. The sight was enough to make SinB's stomach churn.

SinB's eyes were like saucers, taking in the savage display of raw, animalistic fucking. Her body ached to run, but she might as well have been glued to the ground. She tried to crawl away, but it was like trying to escape a pack of hungry wolves.

"Please, just let me go, you bastards!" SinB's voice was raspy, barely a whisper.

These dudes weren't having any of it. They grabbed her like she was their personal plaything. One dude chuckled, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine.

They pinned her down, their rough hands holding her arms and legs, spreading her wide open like a buffet. SinB screamed and kicked, but it only made these animals harder.

"Let me go, you animals! Help!" SinB's pleas were desperate, but they just laughed, their eyes wild with lust.

The dude on top of her, his cock already hard as steel, ripped her panties off like they were nothing. "No, stop! Get your hands off me!" SinB shouted, her voice breaking as he groped her tits, squeezing and twisting her sensitive nipples until she saw stars.

Pissed off by her resistance, the dude stood up and stomped on her stomach, making her gag and cough. Before SinB could catch her breath, another dude was on top of her, his thick cock aiming straight for her mouth.

SinB's eyes widened as his cock invaded her, stretching her jaws to the max. This dude was packing an anaconda, and it hit the back of her throat, making her gag and choke.

He grunted, face-fucking her like a pro. SinB's throat bulged, moving up and down, her eyes watering, snot and spit flying as he pounded her face. Another dude cheered, slapping her ass hard enough to leave a mark.

The dude pounding her face went to town, his balls slapping against her chin, making her gag and choke some more. SinB's body shook, her bound hands clawing at the dirt, her throat working overtime to take that massive cock.

He growled, his hips slamming into her aching throat. SinB's eyes rolled back, tears mixing with the spit and snot as she struggled to breathe. Her throat was on fire, but this dude wasn't letting up, his cock throbbing, ready to unload his cum down her throat.

The barn had become a twisted, hardcore sex dungeon, where SinB's screams and the other women's cries were the soundtrack to a night of brutal, non-stop gangrape.

The tribal black men were on a roll, and SinB's mouth was their fuck toy. These motherfuckers took turns shoving their thick, veiny cocks down her throat, face-fucking her like she was their personal cum dumpster. 

SinB choked and gagged, her eyes watering like a waterfall as she tried to take their massive cocks. One guy gripped her hair like a leash as he pounded her face. SinB's throat was getting fucked raw, her gag reflex going crazy, but these animals just kept going harder.

Another guy shouted, slapping her face with his thick palm. SinB's cheeks stung, but he didn't give a shit as he jammed his cock down her throat, making her eyes bulge like a cartoon.

"Can't... breathe!" SinB managed to gasp between the thrusts, her voice muffled and desperate. But these savages just laughed, their rough hands holding her head like a pet, forcing her to take their cocks.

One after another, they blasted their hot cum down her throat, making her swallow their seed like it was her job. SinB's belly was swelling, her throat on fire, and she felt like she was gonna puke her guts out.

"No more... gonna puke!" she whimpered, her eyes pleading for mercy but a hard slap landed on her cheek, making her see stars.

One man growled, grabbing her hair and forcing her mouth open for his throbbing cock. SinB gagged, her throat convulsing as he face-fucked her with zero fucks given.

These native men were all about getting their rocks off, and they didn't care about her comfort. Some even used her hands and thighs to jerk off, covering her skin with their hot, sticky loads. SinB's body was a mess, covered in sweat, cum, and bruises.

The barn was a horror show, with women's screams and moans filling the air. SinB's eyes darted around, witnessing shit that would give her nightmares for life.

"Help... I'm pregnant! Have mercy!" a woman begged, her belly shook as two men double-battered her pussy and ass. The poor chick was screaming, but they just kept pounding until she went quiet, her body limp and her holes bleeding.

A man grunted, his cock buried deep in the ass of a woman who was clearly out cold. SinB watched in horror as he pumped away, not giving a damn about the blood or the fact that she wasn't even conscious.

“No, no, no– Oh god!" another woman cried, her body arched and bruised as three huge black men took turns violating her. Her screams turned to whines, then silence as the pain overwhelmed her.

SinB's throat was on fire, and her stomach felt like it was gonna explode from all the cum she'd been forced to swallow. When a cock finally pulled out of her mouth, she puked, spewing a mix of cum and bile.

"Fuck— argh, can't swallow anymore!" she begged. But they didn't give a shit. A sharp slap landed on her mouth, making her eyes water.

A man barked, grabbing her hair and shoving his cock back in her mouth. SinB gagged and choked, her throat working achingly to take his thickness as he fucked her face with no mercy. These tribesmen made sure to mark her as their territory. 

They flooded her mouth, on her body, and even made her lick their balls. SinB's body trembled in disgust, her throat and mouth abused, but they just kept going, their cocks throbbing and unloading their semen wherever they pleased. 

Time had lost all meaning for SinB as the assault on her mouth continued. These tribal studs had been using her face as their personal cum dump for hours, forcing her to swallow load after load, even as she puked it all up. 

Her stomach felt like it was gonna burst, her belly swollen and hard, a testament to the endless cumshots she'd been forced to take.

SinB's body was a mess, her once flawless skin now glistening with sweat, her hair sticking to her forehead. 

Her lips were swollen and bruised, gaping open as if they'd forgotten how to close, and her throat was on fire, like she'd swallowed a flaming blade. She couldn't feel her face anymore; it was just a numb, throbbing mess.

Her curvy body had gone limp, her arms splayed out on the dirty ground, but the men held her head up, ensuring her mouth was always available for their pleasure, cocks sliding down her throat, making her gag and choke, her eyes rolling back in her head.

SinB's mind was fuzzy, her body exhausted, but the men showed no signs of stopping. Her throat was so fucked, it felt like a permanent part of their cocks was lodged in there. She couldn't even swallow her own spit without pain.

As another thick release was forced down her throat, SinB's body went into overdrive. She convulsed, her eyes rolling back, and for a moment, she thought she was gonna pass out. The man finally pulled out, letting her fall to the ground like a ragdoll.

SinB gasped for air, her body twitching uncontrollably, her throat and mouth leaking cum and saliva. She lay there, unable to move, her eyes pleading for this nightmare to end. The men, however, seemed to be just getting started.

They stood around her, stroking their hard cocks, their eyes wild with lust as they discussed their next move. SinB prayed for death, for the sweet release of unconsciousness, but the gods weren't listening.

Suddenly, a massive man stepped on her swollen stomach, making her cry out in pain. He twisted his foot, and SinB's body betrayed her, spewing cum and pee, her throat and pussy leaking like broken faucets.

"Oh god– fucking hurts…" she whispered, her voice barely audible. The man just laughed, his deep voice echoing in her ears. He then grabbed her ankles, dragging her out of the barn, away from the screams of the other tortured women.

SinB's heart sank as she realized this was far from over. She was being dragged to the center of the camp, where a crowd of over fifty tribal men awaited, their bodies naked and glistening with some ritual oil.

"No… just kill me," SinB mumbled, her voice weak and defeated. She wanted this torture to end, but the men had other plans. The idol's worst fears were about to be realized as the tribe prepared for a night of depraved rituals.

SinB was done fighting, her body limp as a rag doll as the men chained her up like a sacrificial lamb in the middle of this tribal orgy. They tossed her onto the wooden platform, her stomach heaving, causing her to spew out the cum she'd swallowed earlier.

The men were quick to secure her, chaining her wrists and neck, ensuring she was their helpless plaything. Her curvy body was on full display, the torchlight highlighting every inch of her skin.

A dude with a lean build grabbed her hair, forcing her to look up at him as he poured some weird-ass green liquid down her throat. It was some tribal shit to keep her awake and ready for their sick games. SinB gagged on the bitter taste, but at this point, she was beyond caring.

The crowd went wild as the first man stepped into the spotlight, his cock so big it swung between his legs like a damn pendulum. This dude was a fuckin' beast, and he was about to tear SinB a new one.

He crouched down, his hands gripping her soft hips like they were made for him. He lifted her ass, positioning her on her knees, showcasing her plump, round cheeks. The motherfucker poured oil on her ass, his touch making her tremble.

SinB's ass was a sight to behold, and this dude knew it. He massaged the oil into her skin, his thick-ass thumb getting dangerously close to her tight hole. With a deliberate move, he pushed his thumb into her asshole, making her scream like a banshee.

"Fuck! Stop, you bastard!" SinB cursed, her body going rigid as she felt her ass being stretched beyond its limits. The dude's thumb worked her hole, making her scream and beg, her struggles against the chains useless.

The pain was off the charts, her ass on fire as he finger-fucked her, preparing her for the main event. SinB twisted and turned, her body a mess of desperation, but the dude held her hips like a vice.

Before she knew it, his thumb was out, and his massive cock was at her entrance, ready to breach her tight hole. With one brutal thrust, he impaled her ass, making her eyes roll back.

"Ahhhh, fuck! It's too big! It's splitting me— it's in my guts!" SinB screamed, her voice shaking. 

His cock was a monster, tearing through her sphincter like it was nothing. She felt it stretching her insides, poking places no cock should go.

The man held her hips, his cock buried balls-deep, and started pounding her ass like it was a punching bag. SinB's body jolted with each thrust, her pee spraying out as her bladder broken.

The crowd went nuts, their cheers filling the air as the man brutalized her ass, his cock owning her with each brutal stroke. SinB's screams were music to their ears.

The big dude was merciless, slamming his cock into SinB's ass like a jackhammer, her body taking the full force. Her legs were straight, toes pointed, as she endured the sensation of being impaled, her asshole stretched to its limits. It felt like she was trying to poop out a watermelon, but it just kept going deeper.

SinB's eyes were rolled back, her mouth hanging open, drool dripping down her chin as she groaned and whimpered. Her pale tits scraped against the rough wood with each jerking motion. 

The man grunted like a wild animal, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock even deeper. SinB's ass clenched around him, milking his cock as he pounded her hole. 

The pleasure was too much, with a few more deep thrusts, he exploded inside her, his hot cum filling her ass. He pulled out, his cock glistening with lube and cum, leaving SinB's ass gaping and sore. 

She collapsed onto the platform, her body trembling, unable to move or speak. But there was no respite for the idol.

Another tall, muscular guy stepped up, his cock already slick with oil. He knelt behind her, slapping her leaking pussy, making her jerk and whimper. SinB knew the routine by now, and she bit her lip, bracing herself for the incoming invasion.

A few men gathered around her head, their cocks in hand, stroking and getting off on the sight of her oily, abused body. One dude even stepped on her head, his foot pressing down as he admired the show.

The man behind her positioned his thick cockhead at her pussy lips, teasing her entrance. SinB's body tensed, anticipating the pain. With a slow gesture, he pushed inside, making her moan and arch her back.

"Ahh, shit, shit— My pussy, uhhh!" SinB cried out as his swollen tip popped through her tight pussy lips, stretching her beyond her limits right away. Her pussy clenched around his cock, resisting the invasion, but he kept forcing his way in, inch by inch.

The man was tenacious, his cock a battering ram, pushing past her resistant flesh. SinB screamed and shook, her body a mess of pain as he yanked her onto his cock, burying it deep in her pussy.

Her pee sprayed around his girth, an indication of the intensity of the insertion. The men laughed, their eyes wild with unsatiated lust as the man kept punching her inner walls, his cock slamming against her cervix with each thrust. 

The sudden pleasure was intense, causing SinB's body to tremble and convulse, her pussy clenching around his cock as she climaxed, her juices flowing and mixing with his. But the pleasure was short-lived as his cock kept pounding, hitting her cervix with lethal impact, causing searing pain.

"Ahhh! Fuck, stop!" SinB cried, her body arching off the platform as the man lost control, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock deeper. Blood trickled down her thighs as her pussy was torn and ravaged, the pain almost unbearable.

The man was in a trance, his cock throbbing as he emptied his load deep inside her, breeding her pussy with his cum. He pulled out, his cock glistening with her juices and blood, leaving SinB's pussy gaping and sore.

The men weren't done with her yet. They forced her to drink more of their herbal drugs, keeping her conscious. They even splashed water on her, cleaning the blood and dirt from her body, their rough hands scrubbing her skin.

SinB's body was chained tighter, her wrists and neck secured, ensuring she couldn't escape the breeding that awaited her. More tribesmen lined up, their cocks hard and ready to take over her abused holes.

Day after day, the ritual continued, with over 60 men taking their turns with her every single day. They raped her solo, double-penetrated her, and even tried triple penetration, stretching - tearing her holes beyond their limits. SinB's screams and moans were a constant soundtrack in the camp.

The only sustenance she received was their cum, fed to her by force, enough to keep her alive and fertile for their breeding games. Her memories of her past life as an idol faded, replaced by the constant sensation of huge cocks filling her sore, aching holes.

For weeks, SinB's disappearance was headline news in South Korea. The authorities found Eunha and Umji's bodies, but SinB remained a mystery. Little did they know, she was deep in the African jungle, being bred by a tribe of men.

Weeks turned into a blur for SinB, her body now permanently marked by the tribe's ownership. Her once flat stomach now sported a slight bulge, a result of the countless times she'd been bred. 

The men had moved her to the barn, where she joined the ranks of other pregnant women, all awaiting the birth of their tribal offspring.

SinB was on all fours, a leash around her neck, her body of stretch marks and bruises. Two tribesmen stood beside her, their rough hands massaging her swollen breasts, tugging at her nipples until milk squirted into a bucket, proof of her fertility - the only reason that kept her alive.

Behind her, a group of men took turns with her ass, their cocks pounding her hole to stimulate her milk production. Her pussy, already dripping with cum from the men who had just used her, was a constant reminder of her fate.

The once vibrant K-pop idol was gone, replaced by a shell of a woman, her body a vessel for the tribe's pleasure and procreation. 

SinB's mind was a haze, her memories of her past life fading with each brutal fucking. She was now a breeding machine, her body existing solely to produce the next generation of this unknown tribe.

[agathasbaby]

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ 𝓒𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓂𝒶𝓈 𝓣𝓇𝑒𝑒 ..

paring: fbi agent!rio vidal x librarian!reader

word count: 1142

summary: a walk through times square with your girlfriend, a small interruption happens that’s quickly forgotten. or is it?

warnings: lots of fluff. mentions of past agathario, agatha as mean!detective!agatha, rio's soft spot is for you and only you.

A/N: lowkey wanna make this a series. for now this one’s just a fluffy one shot because im a sucker for rio.

The starry night was beautiful, filling the sky with soft light and tiny specks scattered throughout. Rio walked down the street with you, her possessive hand resting on your lower back, guiding you through the crowd of people. Earlier, you had begged her to take you to the town square, pleading with your best puppy-dog eyes.

"Oh, please! Pretty, pretty please?" you said, batting your eyelashes at her. "There will be such pretty lights!"

"No. I don’t care for this… holiday of yours," she replied.

A pout formed on your lips at her response, and she hated to see it turn into a frown. With a frustrated sigh, she gently patted your cheek, offering you a faint smile before finally giving in to your pleading

Which is how you ended up in this situation: led through crowds until, finally, the beautiful Christmas tree in the town square was visible to your eyes, which sparkled as brightly as the lights shining off the tree’s branches. Rio's arms were wrapped around your waist, her chin resting on your shoulder. Typically, she wasn't one to engage in public displays of affection, but tonight, with how stunning you looked, she couldn't help but feel a bit possessive of you. "Alright, you saw the stupid tree, can we go now?" she grumbles.

You were about to respond, lips parted, when a voice cut through. "Rio? Oh, how lovely it is to see you!" the voice chuckled, a sudden hand on Rio’s shoulder. You turned your head just enough to see who was talking to your girlfriend.

"Agatha?" Rio muttered, almost baffled to see the other woman. "Yes, dear! How are you?" Agatha’s voice was sickeningly sweet, you wanted nothing more for her to disappear. This is your little date with Rio after all. "I’m alright. And you?" Rio’s tone was deflated. Just as it is with anyone who simply isn’t you. "I’m amazing." the woman with slightly curly hair replied, an undercurrent of… well you couldn't quite place the intent in her tone. Her eyes fell upon you, you were just a few inches shorter than Rio, doe eyes big and curious, mixed with a bit of jealousy too.

She reached out to tilt your chin up, you expected Rio to immediately smack the hand away but all she did was tense up. Not daring to stand up to Agatha. That made you question who this woman was to Rio and what kind of past they had lingering. "Who’s this pretty thing?" her voice darkened, and you shuffled away, bringing your body closer to Rio’s. "None of your business." your girlfriend grumbled, which had Agatha pouting.

"Oh come on, dear! Don’t be like that. What’s your name?" Agatha turned to address you.

"Umm… who are you?"

"A friend of Rio’s, hon. No need to feel afraid." she dropped her voice to a whisper, reveling in the way you seemed to dislike her intimidating appearance. "Oh… okay," you whispered back, turning to gaze up at Rio. Her eyes filled with conflicting emotions. “She’s my girlfriend, Harkness.” Rio had finally spoken up, tugging you away from Agatha. "Ooh, she speaks." the brunette—who is standing tall—chuckles.

The Christmas tree no longer seemed interesting. Not when this random woman appeared, Making your already grumpy girlfriend feel even more sour. “Can we go home?” your voice was small, only Rio had picked up on it. She shook her head. "No, darling. Let’s enjoy the tree for a bit longer, yeah?" her voice had gentled, trying to coax you back into that adoring excitement you wore just minutes before. "If you don't mind, I’d like for you to leave us be, thank you." Rio’s voice was clipped with Agatha, who simply huffed, sending your girlfriend a glare before disappearing. There was obvious tension between the two. They clearly had some sort of relationship that crumbled into a million pieces.

You chose not to dwell on the questions swirling inside you. A soft kiss pressed against your cheek caught your attention. You glanced back up at Rio. There was a fire behind her eyes; however, she still looked as in love with you as ever. You smiled adoringly at her.

Time passed, and you walked around the town square, gawking at the pretty lights surrounding buildings. It was obvious the residents of West View, New Jersey adored Christmas just as much as you did. Rio found it incredibly ridiculous. It was only the middle of November, Thanksgiving hadn't even gone by!

Not that she even liked Thanksgiving.

You were hand in hand with her, swaying your arms. Truthfully you were just happy that Rio, for once, allowed you to show her so much affection in a public setting. She much preferred to be soft with you at home, not where a bunch of people could watch, their lingering eyes felt uncomfortable. As you passed by yet another store, you stopped abruptly, causing Rio to stumble back. Beautiful jewelry shined bright within the window. You couldn't help but admire them. Especially the necklaces. You were a sucker for shiny things that can rest on your collarbone, Rio couldn't care less. Though; she found joy in buying you jewelry. “Like something you see, my love?” her lips brushed against your ear, a shiver running down your spine at the contact. "The one with a pretty emerald! It’s your color." you smiled warmly.

Oh, you knew how to make Rio’s heart melt. A woman who is usually so dense and tough, she often only softens when it comes to you. You loved how she could go from rude to loving so quickly.

It didn't take long for Rio to grow exhausted with people. You felt the same way. Your home was looking mighty cozy now, and as you arrived, you rushed to the bedroom to change into warm pajamas. She wasn't too far behind. Rio decided she wanted to shower, you denied her offer to join.

Instead, you opted to make yourself and your girlfriend some hot chocolate. A little tray of snacks set on the coffee table, you on the couch, steamy mugs sitting by the snack try. And a remote in your hand as you scroll through Netflix. Debating what to put on to end your lovely night, despite the small interruption… as your girlfriend rounded the corner, you smiled brightly at her. "Baby! I made us hot cocoa." The tone in your voice was soft, full of that excitement Rio adored so much.

"How sweet of you. My sweet girl." she hummed, tapping your thigh til your legs instinctively fell open, allowing her to lay between them. Her head immediately rests on your stomach. You pressed play on the movie, willing the night to quiet down as you and Rio unwind. The rest of the night was filled with cuddles, kisses, and sweet treats.

[ma-yawntu]

for you, anything.

pairing: neteyam x female!omatikaya!reader

summary: you're mad at Neteyam for some reason and he's determined to find out why

word count: 2.2k

warnings: mentions of injury and blood, mentions of parent death (father), fluffy, angst (sort of)

now playing... first love/late spring by mitski

Neteyam’s wound was angry and red, his skin raw with jagged cuts. Your skilled hands made quick work of his injuries, cleaning the area with fresh water to avoid infection, but despite your delicacy with his wounds; something was wrong. Neteyam could tell you were angry with him from the way you kept your lips drawn together instead of playfully lecturing him like you normally did. His ears were flat against his head as you worked, your eyes refusing to look up into his despite his obvious desperation for you to give him something– anything.

Neteyam wasn’t sure why you were angry with him, sitting there wracking his brain for possible causes of your turmoil. He knew you worried for him when he attended raids with his father and brother, but you worried for everyone. Unfortunately, it was in your nature to worry. Neteyam thought it was an admirable trait but you saw it was more of a curse.

For you, it was different with Neteyam. The two of you had been close since you were children, being born mere months apart meant you hit almost every milestone together. As children, the two of you were competitive, always pushing harder and harder to be better than the other… of course it was friendly competition. As you grew up though, you found yourself caring more and more about Neteyam as more than a friend. Of course you would never tell him– he was the Olo’eyktan’s son! Future clan leader of the Omatikaya and your best friend. You were absolutely dreaming if you thought anything could ever happen between the two of you.

That logical reasoning didn’t deter your feelings though, the heart unfortunately wants what it wants. Instead of facing the reality of your situation, you buried yourself in work. Work always needed to be done around High Camp. The Sky People closed in more and more every week and their war strategies were only getting bolder. 

You worked closely with Kiri and a few other healers under Mo’at, learning to tend to the sick and injured which only seemed to increase tenfold after every war party’s return. You wanted to be out fighting like everyone else– like Neteyam. But Jake would never allow it after you lost your father during a raid; he made Jake promise to never let you out in the field and that’s how you ended up stuck at High Camp working as a healer instead of where you were meant to be. 

“You are upset,” Neteyam mumbles after almost half an hour of uninterrupted silence as you run a damp cloth over his cuts and grazes. 

“I am not upset,” your tone alone was a dead giveaway that you were kind of upset. Neteyam’s ears flatten against his hair and he curls his lips inward, electing to give you some more time before he starts prying again. 

Your shoulders relaxed as your gaze flickered to his face. Neteyam was usually pretty unreadable; a product of his upbringing you assumed. Neteyam took after his mother in almost every way and that woman was terrifying, so it made sense. But you were always able to see through it, you’d grown up learning his tells and habits, you were sure you could understand him better than yourself most of the time. 

He seemed hurt by your short attitude with him; you weren’t even sure why you were mad in the first place, maybe it was because you were stressed and unintentionally taking it out on Neteyam. Or maybe it was because he got himself injured again and almost gave you a heart attack when Lo’ak and Jake had to carry him bleeding into the healer’s kelku because he was too injured to walk himself. It was likely a culmination of both things. 

Mo’at had originally dealt with him since you, Kiri and the other healers were busy tending to the several other injured warriors. But Mo’at was quickly called away, her expertise needed elsewhere and you were left to clean and stitch Neteyam’s body back together with shaky nervous hands.

You scooped up a heaping of Kiri’s yalna bark salve, applying the waxy substance to the jagged cut you had sewn shut along Neteyam’s chest. He winced at the slight sting, his brows knitting together at the feeling he would never get used to.

“Sorry,” you mutter, spreading the salve along the cut. You weren’t sure if you were apologising for your temper or for putting him in pain– possibly both. Now seeing his face and listening to him wince made your heart hurt and now you felt bad for being sort of mean to him. “I’m… I am not mad at you.”

Neteyam’s gaze lifts to yours and you give him a flicker of your eyes before you’re back to ignoring him and dressing his wounds. Your fingers work diligently to dress the wound but your movements quickly cease when Neteyam’s much larger hand wraps around your thin wrist. You stop what you’re doing and your eyes flicker up to meet him, falling victim to his intense golden eyes.

“Then what is wrong?” His voice is quiet, as if speaking at a normal volume would somehow scare you. 

You avert your eyes, a sigh rippling from your chest before you look at him again, heart drumming in your chest. “I was worried, that is all.”

“You always worry,” he doesn’t believe your answer but he is always gentle in his prying. 

“Then there is nothing more to say,” you retort, twisting your wrist out of his grip to get back to your work. 

Neteyam lets out a defeated sigh, “you know that is not how I meant it,” he cautions.

You know you’re being slightly unreasonable right now. But he simply doesn’t understand what it is like for you to see him like that; to see his limp body be dragged off his ikran, to see him covered in bruises, dirt and dried blood. It’s a horrifying sight to see, especially when it is someone you love and cherish. Yes, you love your best friend; you’re aware of the predicament.

You know that it won’t go anywhere. Sure, you can fight, heal and hold your own but you are nothing exceptional. There are far more pretty and talented Omatikaya women who are basically falling at Neteyam’s feet. You don’t stand a chance, you’re fully aware of that and you’ve tried to make your peace with it.

You almost feel like you have no right to worry over him the way you do. He is not yours and you are not his. You are forced to put on a brave face whenever you’re left to heal his wounds and act like it doesn’t twist your heart seeing him in pain.

You dress Neteyam’s wound and quickly move to gather your materials, completely disinterested in continuing your conversation. Your days at High Camp are never ending and at this point you’re beyond exhausted knowing you still have to clean the kelku top to bottom before you can even think about leaving.

“You need rest, no strenuous exercise or movements for at least a week or you’ll split your stitches,” you sigh, organising your materials back into their original places around the kelku. 

Neteyam’s eyes follow your body as you move around, still unconvinced by your behaviour and determined to get to the bottom of it before he leaves you alone for the night. He hates seeing you upset, it hurts him when he can’t fix things for you but it hurts even more you might be upset with him. 

Neteyam groans and winces as he stands up, his hand coming to clutch his side. You spin on your heel and let out a noise of frustration, “Neteyam, I’m serious.” You’re at his side in a second, your hands clutching his shoulder and arm to help him sit back down; he’s much heavier and taller than he was when the two of you dragged each other around as kids, you notice.

You allow him to get comfortable before you attempt to leave his side only for him to grab your arm, forcing you to stop. You peek over your shoulder and he looks so upset and your heart twists at the mere sight. 

“Talk to me,” Neteyam mutters, his eyes wide and pleading. 

You frown and sigh, relaxing in his grasp and letting him just hold your forearm for a moment. Your eyes meet his and you just crack under the overwhelming presence that is Neteyam. You feel tears welling up in your eyes, your jaw aching painfully as you attempt to hold back the flood that swirls around inside you. 

“Don’t cry,” Neteyam coos, using his other hand to pull you closer and wipe your tears with the rough pad of his thumb.

You sniffle and wipe your wet face with the back of your hand, eyes averting upward to will the tears to sink back down where they belong. You don’t know why you’re crying. You’re worried, angry, tired, frustrated; everything one person under immense pressure can feel.

Neteyam waits for you to calm down, his chest aching watching you heave and sniffle, your tears betraying you as they slip down your cheeks faster than he can catch them. His hands are holding yours, his thumbs stroking over the backs of your hands to help ground you. And he just watches you, afraid to take his eyes off you as if you’ll disappear. 

“I’m fine,” your voice comes out slightly broken and Neteyam just frowns.

“You’re crying,” Neteyam retorts.

You avert your eyes again. “Seriously, Neteyam. I’m just tired.”

“Please, sevin–”

“I worry about you!” You say rather loudly. Neteyam’s mouth presses closed and all he can do is wait with bated breath for you to continue. You sigh, eyes still glassy with tears, “I do not worry about you in the same way I worry about everyone else, Neteyam… You have to know that.”

He has to know how you feel by now, surely he is not that dense– then again, you’ve known him for a long time and he can be very dense (a trait courtesy of his father you assume). 

His brows are knitted together in a mixture of both confusion and worry as he stares at you, attempting to decipher what it is you’re trying to tell him. Neteyam has always felt something for you, how could he not? But he was so sure the two of you had grown apart because of your equally strenuous responsibilities. 

“When I watch you leave,” you start, your voice slightly shaking. “I just… I never know if you’re going to come back.”

Neteyam sighs, his hand reaching out to hold the side of your face, “I will always come back.”

“My father didn’t, Neteyam,” you reply, eyes falling shut as you will yourself to stop crying, knowing how much seeing you upset hurts Neteyam. Neteyam falters at your words and sighs sadly, his larger hand holding your jaw gently. Your lip quivers as you open your mouth to speak, another tear slipping down your cheek, “I… I cannot lose someone else, ‘Teyam.”

Neteyam feels his chest tighten at the sight of your sadness. “Sevin…”

“I cannot lose someone else that I love,” you whisper, your thumb stroking the back of Neteyam’s wrist. Your gaze finally meets his and your eyes are glossed with tears as the stress and anxiety pours out of you right in front of him. 

Neteyam’s heart pounds in his chest, he knows you love him, you’re his best friend. But you’ve never said it with such sincerity before. You’ve always been special to him, the only person who seemed to understand who Neteyam was outside of being the Olo’eyktan’s son. He’s always loved you, how could he not? But it was in this moment that he realised how desperate he was to keep you. 

Neteyam’s thumb strokes along your cheekbone and you let out a soft breath, completely drowning in the golden hues of his kind eyes. And without thinking, your body surges forward, your eyes falling shut as you plant your lips firmly against his. 

Your hands find purchase on the nape of his neck as you force his much taller frame down to meet you halfway. Neteyam’s free hand lands on the lower section of your ribs, his body stiff at the sudden contact. But the kiss is over as soon as it starts and you pull away, your face flushing and eyes blowing wide as you realise your actions.

“Shit,” you curse. “I’m… Neteyam, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to–”

Neteyam is quick to shut you up when his hands reach out to cup your face and he kisses you again. His kiss is softer than yours, far more gentle than the awkward peck moments ago. He breathes hard against your lips between kisses, his body suddenly crippled with the urge to keep you close. 

Your smaller hand holds his cheek, careful to avoid the small cut along his cheekbone. You smile giddily against him and he pulls away to smile back at you, his thumb gently wiping away the last of your tears. 

“Now you really have to come back,” you whisper.

Neteyam smiles, “For you, anything.”

a/n: i know it's short but it's cute!!

[chuulyssa]

jealous monster trio + law and ace x reader

a/n. not proofread!! i wrote this on my phone in the middle of watching a movie ong. idk why there aren't many dialogues in ace and law's part, but im lowkey pleased with how everything turned out

tags. fluffy fluff fluff, established relationship

crack tags. sanji gets a nosebleed (again), sanji tries to steal you away, sanji (that's it, that's the warning), marco bepo and robin are the best matchmakers, nami robs someone 😴

luffy wasn't the type to be overly possessive about the things he liked. growing up with two brothers, he had learned to share all mundane things in his life; his clothes, his blanket, even his toothbrush.

but not you.

luffy didn't understand the feeling that was developing in the pit of his stomach at the sight of you working out with zoro in the crow's nest. it was nice to stay healthy, right? that was what he had thought when he saw you reject his offer to play board games with him. he watched you walk away and up to the crow's nest where the swordsman practically lived, and sulkily climbed his special seat on the head of the sunny.

"oi, luffy! come down," usopp called out from the deck, and he glanced at the latter. "robin's telling us another story of the ancient civilizations of the west blue!"

"i'm not in the mood," luffy shouted back, still gazing wistfully at you.

he watched your face contort into one of pain when you moved to do the crunches, and zoro laughed at you before showing you how to breathe in the position as you lifted yourself back up.

"are you sure? i think you're just hungry!" usopp called again. "robin said we can have some of the special pancakes sanji made for her."

luffy stared back at his friend, his eyebrows furrowing as he thought hard. soon after, he yelled back, "i'll come down, give me one second!"

as you got back up from the crunch you were performing, you saw a long arm on the glass wall of the room and nearly screamed. luffy accidentally slammed his face into the wall, his cheeks comically enlarged as he spoke something incoherent to you. zoro rolled his eyes from beside you.

"i think he's saying break time is over. you've gotta go deal with him now."

.

zoro was rather secure in your relationship. he didn't mind it when other people commented about how nice you are, or about how pretty you look. he let it all slide, seeing as he knew all of the comments were true, and you deserved to know that. so he wasn't one to get mad when such things happened.

except when it came to the idiot cook.

it had been almost fifteen minutes past your usual time and you still hadn't shown up. zoro had gritted his teeth in the middle of a set and set out to find you. it didn't take him long, however, to figure out what was keeping you.

"my dear y/n, you must listened to this acoustic poem i have written in your name," the cook had one of your hands in his, blocking your way up to the crow's nest.

"i'm sure it's lovely, sanji, but i'm in a hurry right now--"

"ah, where, i wonder, must i look to find another beauty such as yourself--?"

"oi, cook! buzz off, will ya? no one wants you around," zoro's voice came from upstairs, and you turned to look at him.

the cook glared at him from behind you, but immediately pouted wistfully when you turned back at him. "don't say that, 'ro," you scolded, and the cook's face lit up at your words, eyes gleaming at the sight of zoro's annoyed look.

"i said what i said," zoro walked downstairs, twirling a strand of your hair around his fingers when he reached you. "buzz off, prince of the perverts."

.

sanji is a little bit of an idiot. insecurity runs in his veins, and thus so does jealousy. you would have felt bad for him too, had he not been making you feel the same way since day one.

his face streamed with tears as he followed you around the marketplace. a few minutes earlier, you had caught him shooting to the sky with a nosebleed because of some poor woman's smile. he had landed right at your feet, the sight momentarily disarming you before you kicked his frame out of the way to walk.

it had been about half a minute of you ignoring him and he was on his hands and knees, begging for you to spare a glance at him. you would have felt bad, had this not been the fiftieth time in a week. you instead chose to turn to usopp, who had grown to learn to ignore sanji and his antics around women ever since they first met at the baratie. sanji's ears turned a bright red at your movement, and he clinged even harder at you

the two of you silently agreed to not wait for nami while she was busy robbing civilized people in a restaurant, and sped up at the looks the passersby were giving sanji, who was practically hanging onto your waist right now.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, angel, i know that's not gonna cut it but i beg for your humble forgiveness, i will not ever-"

"how do you deal with this moron?" usopp whispered to you, and you whispered back an "i don't know".

sanji kept mumbling things into your hips and pressing soft kisses into your waist, until you gave in when chopper hurried up to where you were, polaroids of your smile hanging around his neck; your boyfriend was just in rehab!

.

ace didn't think you looked half as good with anyone else but him. that is another way to say, he couldn't stand anyone who was within a certain radius from you. he wouldn't talk about it at all, and whenever you would bring it up he would play dumb.

but he hated it; not in a you're-mine-and-belong-to-me way but more in a im-just-a-boy-who-needs-external-validation-to-exist kinda way.

so he didn't like the way you were the only 'daughter' in whitebeard's crew among all the 'sons' who spoke about you like you were a trophy. he didn't like how you were placed under marco's division and not his. he didn't like how both whitebeard and marco laughed at him whenever they caught him looking at you.

after a particularly rough mission, the first division was having a blast with all the treasure they had managed to get back. ace looked at you with a longing pout on his face, about ten feet away from you. you were laughing with thatch at the moment, and he was busy fantasizing about how you would react if he carried you into your shared room on his shoulder, kissed the back of your nape and sucked hickeys to spell his name on your neck--

marco slapped the back of his head and his face fell into his plate with a loud crash.

"thank me later," marco said, eyes unwavering as the man in front of him fell asleep face-first into a plate full of food.

he went away as ace woke up shortly after, his face covered in curry, with men laughing at and mimicking him, but among all of them, his ears only heard the sound of your laughter before you quickly got up to hand him tissues.

.

law did not care. or at least, he pretended not to. after all, it had taken multiple tantrums from bepo to get him to confess to you, and even then he had made it clear he was not a fan of whatever you might have thought to be an 'ideal, loving relationship'.

that was, until today, when you had learned just how far you had to push his buttons to transform him into a romantic man. you could feel law's gaze on you as you laughed at whatever dumb thing luffy had just said, but when you turned around, he was busy conversing with robin about who knows what. once again, you turned to luffy, felt weird, turned back and saw nothing. for every minute you talked to the straw hat about something, you could feel law breathing down your neck, albeit in a subtle manner that no one but you seemed to catch.

"law," you finally came up to him, and he looked up at you as if he hadn't for ages. "is something wrong?"

"what makes you think so?" he challenged, and you could feel robin chuckle next to him. after shooting her a perplexed look, you shrugged and walked back to where the group was having fun, staying a bit closer to chopper this time, for luffy's safety.

it wasn't until the two of you had retreated back to your shared room for the night that you had realised what you felt had not been a hoax. law was on you the moment you lay next to him on the bed, nuzzling up to you and pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and cheeks.

you were confused, to say the least, but you had a faint suspicion that this strange side of law was the idea of a certain archaeologist.

[ladyoftheblades]

comfort

aegontargaryen x aemondswife!reader

synopsis: the war had caused a shift in aemond, brothel visits, questionable behaviour toward his family most of all his brother, and now news of his lover. his wife had had enough, turning her attention to a lover of her own,none other than the king

a/n: i really hate this but wanted to get it out of the way to focus on new things 😙i finished this drunk off of cosmopolitans and crying my eyes out about my fate, so maybe aegons breakdown is a little ooc.hope you enjoy anyway. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE and im dyslexic.

warnings: smut, p in v, dacryphilia, mutual cheating, descriptions of wounds and scars(not too much tho)

it was a young and uneasy night, sunrays still gracing the sky, dousing kings landing in twilight. the princess sat at the library, the book in her hands long cast aside in favour of staring out of the window. it was a useless thing anyhow, having done little to ease her worries. today was the day she was excpecting news of her husband, aemond targaryen, to arrive from harrenhall.

she knew the rumors surrounding the castle, it was a cursed place, full of mysteries and withcraft. it was especially dangerous for targaryens, since the time of the conquest when aegon burned it down.

aemond had gone to claim it in his brothers name. but the hour ran late yet the messenger had not come. she sat and stared, all of the worst scenarios playing in her head, turning and swirling her thoughts, sending waves of nausea to her stomach.

truth be told, her husband had displayed some very unusual behaviour of late. since the murder of luke by aemonds own hand, he had taken to visiting a brothel in the city. her immediate reaction was one of anger but once her confidants informed her he was visiting the same madam, a woman named silvy, the one who lay with him for the fist time when he was but a child of three and ten, she understood. his actions were not born of lust but of trauma. he had always treated her with respect and love, so in spite of her initial anger she found it in her heart to forgive him, to overlook his slight.

but his strange behaviour had not ended there. the war was taking a toll on him, she could tell. he always had a violent streak, yet he held great mastery over it, always calm and collected, only rarely losing control. the war brought out those tendansies, warping him into a beast of unquenched anger. after the battle of rooks rest, due to his brothers injuries he had been named prince regent which only expedited the change in him.

the battle of rooks rest was the oddest of the ocuurances. princess rhaenys had passed, killed by the joined efforts of aemond and aegon, the king and his dragon sustained grave injuries, incapacitating them fully, yet aemond and vaghar came out of it almost completely unscathed. the lady attempted to coax her husband into talking about the battle, yet every mention of it caused him to break out in a fit of anger or storm out of the room immedietly.

not one soul but aemond could give a complete account of the events, for the king refused to speak with anyone, stating he needed rest. but the account aemond gave was....lackluster. something was off, piesces loose on the tapestry he had paited of the events. if one could poke at it it was sure to come undone, yet the regent allowed none of it. the small council could raise little question, he was -for all intents and purposes- their soveirgn after all.

time went on, the sun hiding behind the western sea, taking all semblances of light with it, the sky now completely black. quite an unpleasant sight. a knock sounded at the door, the princesses heart began to race with unparalleled anxiety "enter, please" she shouted.

she had excpected an envoy from harenhall, one appointed by her, yet none came, in stepped the master of whisperers, lord larys strong. "my lady" he greeted, giving his best bow. "lord larys. i excpected an envoy from harenhall, have you come in his stead ?"

"yes, my lady" he walked further into the room, slowly reaching her spot by the window, taking a seat with great effort. "i must inform you, the nature of the information...is quite sensitive" her anxiety shot through the roof, chest thumping at a hundred kilometers an hour.

"has something happened to my husband ?" she said urgently. "do not fret my lady, the regent is in good health" the air shifted, her anxiety had calmed but something else, something more unsettling took over. what could possibly be of such sensitive nature ?

"go on" she said. "my informats have made me aware of the princes recent behaviours, since taking control of the caste, maybe even pre-"

"oh quit your theatrics and spit it out" her tone was now damn near yelling. the man infrotny of her was stalling, but games of court had no place in the concerns of a wife at alarm. larys took a deap breath "your husband has taken a lover, her name is alys rivers. i am told she works as a milkmaid in the castle, though rumors have it she is a witch"

her heart almost stopped. a lover ? she could excuse silvy, they shared a certain history. a lover ? a paramour ? one that was unpaid, and there to whisper in his ears the gods only know what ? too far. she stood up suddently and began to pace back and forth infron of the window. she continued that way quite a while, not uttering a single word, only flailing her hands in erratic movements, trying to wrap her head around the information, attempting to make sense of the storm of information now revealed to her. larys remained calm. his composure was almost...unnerving.

eventually he attempted to pull her out of her trance "i understand this must come as quite a shock, shall i call for a maester my lady ?" she halted her movements immedietly, regaining contact with reality, yet ever in internal disarray. "no, that is quite alright my lord. who else knows of this ?"

"no one, of yet. i came to inform you first, though i doubt it will remain private for much longer" she looked to larys, a knowing look in his mischievous eyes. information was his trade, and he had provided elite services, a reward was in order. "i thank you for your service lord larys, you may take your leave, your loyalty will not be forgotten, i assure you" with that he was satisfied, giving a final bow, he exited.

with the bang of the door agains its frame announcing larys exit, the emotions hit her all the same. what was she to do ? this was not her husband. war changed the souls of men, bringing forth the worst of their humanity. the brothels she could forgive, the anger excuse, hells she could even overlook the lover, but all three combined ? an insult. a hurtfull, heartbreaking insult, one that could not go unaccouted for.

she had yet to bear aemond any children, if this whore were to come with child, if she was to have a son, it would put her position in danger. semblances of solutions to mend the problem, to find her an explaination at the lest, flew around in her mind, yet she was far too disturbed to give any of them proper consideration. still in that strange trance of betrayal, she began to walk.

her feet acted on their own, unattatche dand seemingly unaffected by the storm that was her mind. they took her out of the library, tracing a path around the red keep. she walked and walked and the more she walked the more she thought and the more she thought the clearer her head became.

power was getting to aemonds head but he was not the ultimate authority, the king was. the root of her husbands behaviour was the death, or rather the murder, of lucerys but rooks rest was the turning point. if he would not provide an explaination, his brother would.

she had shared few words with her brother in law, far and inbetween, aemond always coming inbetween them to root out whatever semblance of a relationship they began to create before it could sprout. but he was pleasant, a little inappropriate in his jests and brash to a fault. he spoke his mind, did as he pleased, with no mind for consequences. the only thing that kept him alive quite frankly, was his position as the fist son, now king. all those qualities, once considered faults, now sounded refreshing. a stark contrast to the lies and masked intentions of others.

the king had locked himself away from the world following the battle of rooks rest. she had heard the whispers of his state, his appearance made up to be groutesque and unnerving. "unlike anything come of our realm" she had overheard one maidservant say.

she traced a path to the kings chambers. security was never strong in the keep anyway and she had memorised the schedule of the changing guard. she reached the hallway of his chambers just as the guards were tuning the other end.

she hadnt much time, begining to advance when suddently three maids exited the chambers in coplete dissaray, clothes soaked and the king audibly yelling from inside the rooms. they began to run in the opposite direction, their voices somewhere between whispers and shrieks, full of terror. something was amiss with the king, even mose so than usual. no matter, she could use the opportunity.

slowly she walked to the rooms, quietly slipping through the door.

"I SAID LEAVE" shouted aegon imedietly upon sensing her presance. the sight infront of her was truly something... the king lay in his tub, his back to her, watter spilled all around, no doubt by whatever had transipired beforehand. his body had been badly burned, maelys managed to damage his body so much, armour melted into his skin. even with his back to her, tub obscuring his visage, the damage to his shoulder and neck was visible.

she took a step forth "im sorry to disturb your grace though i believe you never asked me to exit". upon hearing her voice aegon made an attempt to crane his neck and look at her, the tension to his burns making him wince in pain, immedietly turning back around.

"please, your grace, do not exert yourself" she said, tentatively approaching. she soon reached him, finally able to look at him whole. the water obscured his visage from the waist down but the sight of his face and chest made her heart swell with hurt. the burns consumed the entire left side of his chest, expanding to his neck, fully engulfing the side of his face, even parts of his nose.

thought what struck her most was not his gruesome burns, he was far from such. in spite of the burns his face held a certain beauty, even on the scarred side.

he moved, ignoring the pain, turning away from her quizical gaze. "please, leave, just leave..." none of the previous anger was present, voice laced with only sadness and embarassment. he was voulnerable, oh so voulnerable, exposed, completely at the mercy of the world and his surroundings. she took the kings aversion as a challenge. "oh your grace, please, allow me"

she fell to her knees, the fabric of her dress becoming wet at contact with the floor. "i have no need of your pity" he muttered, face still turned. "i do not pity you, your grace, the scars of war are to be worn as a badge of honor, as proof of your bravery"

she could not see his face still but something told her he did not share that same oppinion. his burns had healed in their majority, forming an angry red scar. some areas remained sensitive, mostly underneath his arm, must be the parts where metal melted into him, she thought. she looked to the desk behind her, an assortment of ointments placed atop.

she looked to the labels on them, spotting one which wrote "after bath". she took it and oppened the top, the smell surprisingly pleasant. "did the maesters instruct a certain ammount be used ?" aegon shook his head no. he was still somewhat uneasy, yet did not deny the assistance.

she put some on her hands and began to apply it to his torso. it must have worked instantaniously for the king eased, becoming accostumed to her presance, and moved his head to finally look at her. she did not return his gaze however, only continuing her movements.

he studied her hands with searing intensity, periodicaly giving satisfied hums. they kept like that a while, the king growing more and more comfortable as time went on. untill she reached his face.

by now it was near impossible not to look at him, yet she resisted. she completed his cheek, and moved to the area around his eye. before she could contunue though, he raised his good hand from the water and grabed hers. his fingers wrapped around her wrist threatening to leave a bruise. she paused, ever so cautious. "y-your grace, i cannot continue if-"

"Look at me." he comanded. she complied, finally looking in his eyes. they were absolutely beautifull, grayish blue hues morroring those of the sea on a moody day, color only accentuated by the candelight. they hid something, something intense yet he dared not reveal it to her, as if her learning of it would embarass him.

"what do you see when you look at me ?" he asked. she was somewhat taken aback by such a question, still she made no attempt to back away, in too deep already. whatever the king wanted she had to comply with. she took a moment to think, knowing the wrong answer might cost her her life. " a boy"

"is that how you see your king truly ? as a boy ?"

"my king is a fierce and brave warrior forged by fire and blood, the one infront of me named aegon targaryen is a boy"

his face began to change, the walls built around his soul slowly coming down, eyes verging on betraying their secret. he removed his hand from her wrist, allowing her to contunie apllying the ointment. she brought her hand forth to his eye, the king leaving a sigh of relief, tilting his head back. she turned around to place the jar to its place, by the time she turned to aegon once again he was looking right at her, head tilted back, eyes dark and playfull. if she looked closely she could even see a smile playing at his lips.

"comfortable, your grace ?" she said, attempting to match his playfulness. he gave a chuckle "very. you my lady ?"

"very" she mirrored his reply. she closed the distance between them, now putting her hand on the good side of his chest, begining to rub soothing circles on his alabaster skin. he enjoyed the contact, she could tell, the smile on his lips turning from one of mischief to one of satisfaction. she knew she could not keep it up for long, her visit was now devoid of purpose, she would have to come up with soemthing quick-

"i never did ask, why are you here ?" he broke her train of thought. she stopped the movement of her hand, moving it instead to play with his hair.

"i have been discarded by my husband im afraid and ... i understood you to be in a similar position. i thought... i thought maybe we could be alone together" she looked straight to his eyes as she uttered that, finalising her last word with an afectionate tuck of his hair beneath his ear. she waited, frozen, afraid of having said the wrong thing, the one that would set him off. yet as time passed, tortourously, kicking her gut harder and harder as it went on, his demeanor went unchanged.

"at first you think me a boy, and now discarded. i ought to have your tongue for that" he moved his hand, the scarred one, to cradle her chin as he delivered his words. yet his toutch was neither threatening, nor malicious. no, he was playing, he wanted a game but more than that.... he was looking for something in her. comfort she had provided already, trust, perhaps ?

she made no attempt to remove her face from his hand, the contact sending shocks through her body... it had been a while since her and her husband had been intimate... the sole attention of the king was something else entirely. "are you not, then ? discarded ? are you not lonely ?"

the game was on. he seized her up, looking to find what he wanted, she spoke again "if you have no need of company, should i take my leave ?" immedietly his fingers dug into her skin "i said no such thing" she gave a smile of satisfaction.

"you admit it then, you are lonely, just as i" her voice was laced with nothing but warmth, coaxing out of aegon his true nature, breaking down any remainants of walls around his heart. "just as you" he spoke, voice but a whisper, a glint of recognition in his eyes.

"we are one in the same. i see you as you are" her words rang true, they were one in the same, cast aside, stripped of their agency, starved of affection, all due to aemond. a wave of boldness washed over her. she moved closer to aegon, head resting on his shoulder, cautious not to disturb any parts not yet healed.

"why did you so rudely dismiss your maids ?" he took in a sharp breath "they thought of me as a beast. i saw it in their eyes, the disgust. besides, they knew not what they were doing, before they even began i could smell the incompetence. i could not allow they stay"

"then why allow me ?" she said, craning her head, looking now to his eyes. "i can trust you. as you said... you see me." she gave a small smile. he drank up the encouragement like a man starved.

"we may help eachother then. i see something troubles you, tell me my king, how may i be of assistance ?"

"my troubles are no secret, these scars trouble me, my face, my... my incapacitation." "oh aegon" she uttered quickly, moving from her spot on the floor, still on her knees, standing behind her king now, hands snaking around his shoulders unashamedly. her head went to his good side, chin toutching shoulder. "aemond may be regent but you... you remain king. ofcourse you are capable, you may rule from your own bed if you wish, council be damned."

a sob rattled his body. she pressed her arms further into him, attempting to stiffle his sadness for every tear of his shook her to her core. something about this man, with all the power of the realm at his fingertips being so voulnerable, putting his heart in her hands and trusting her to protect it, something aemond had not once done, it made her wish to hold onto him and never let go.

he began to weep openly, hiding his face in the crook of her arms. everyone looked at him and saw only what they wanted, be it a king, a rake, an incompetent fool... no one saw him for him, not even his own mother could recognise the pain festering in his body, the unfairness of the situation she put him in. he was given all the power in the realm with no say of his own fate. destined to live a life soely for the sake of others, faithfully serving the realm, his family, his mother, his counsil, never making a choice for his own. and then he was punished for it, punished for all he had no input in, by none other than his own brother, his own blood. ofcourse she knew naught of it, but the way she held him, so tight, so firm, as if she would take away all his pain and pour the love of the world on his skin the same way she had done that ointment, it only made him want to cry more, overwhelmed by the emotion.

she held him close and did not let go, not when the tears ran a salty stream on his face, not when the snot began to fill his nose,making his sobs sound all the more pathetic, not when his hands left bruising marks on her arms, possesively keeping them close, afraid they would be taken from him. she only endured, giving small tuts and shushes as well as little praises here and there.

eventually his sobs ceased, leving him sensitive, puffy faced and shuddering. she tennatively pulled her arms away, much to aegons disapointment, moving to the table once again,bringing a clean piece of cloth to his face. he took it greatfully and began to clean it somewhat.

"your grace ?"

"i just try so hard, all i do i do to please but-" tears threatened once again to spill from his pretty eyes, the princess would do anything to prevent such a thing.

"your grace, aegon, you neednt please anyone, you are far from perfect but you deserve to be treated well, to have your sacrifices recognised"

"they do not respect me"

"fuck them then. you are king, you may impose your authority over the council, you have a mind and a heart, and you can make as strategic a descision as any of them. i will be the fist to support you" his gaze fell to hers, blue eyes further acentuated by the redness brought about by his tears, mouth slightly open, heavy breaths escaping with great difficulty, his eyes from hers to her lips, to her eyes again. she moved her face forward, minimising the distance between them.

she thought of the correct words to say to comfort him, any plan of coaxing truth out of him long forgotten. she had come in with a plan, but his behaviour, his trust in her washed all of that away. she thought yet no words came to he

"aemond is a fool to hurt you"

"aemond is a fool to undermine you" his body reacted on its own, as if possesed by the emotions rooted in his chest so deep and so intense no logic could reach them, and so he kissed her.

his lips were so soft, having been spared, they moved on hers, full of raw intensity. practice attempted to prevail, aegons many conquests having taught him all he needed, yet could not, overrun by emotion. he had no control of his movements, kissing her now like a knight sworn to celibacy, unacustomed to the woea of women, wishing only to express his courtly love.

she pressed onto him harder, taking control of the kiss, hands falling to his face, one on his good side immedietly gripping his jaw, giving back the same desperation he had shown. immedietly upon the contact he oppened his mouth, leaving a whine and allowing her tongue acess. her other hand, ever so carefull not to hurt him, gently rested on his jaw, affraid of horting him.

he broke the kiss, speaking in between pants " my face is-is healed, do not hesitate just toutch me-" and so she did, ever so eager to please her king. the kiss deepened, all the sloppier, all the more desperate, all the more emotional, untill it was not enough to express their devotion.

"are-uh- are other... areas..healed, of yet ?" his face franticaly moving up and down, "yes, all the areas-" he chuckled, a hearty chuckle, such a lovely sound "all the areas of interest are healed, please "

she understood. she rose to her feet and began undoing her gown. aegon watched from his seat, staring patiently, adoration filling his beautifull ocean eyes. it took her a bit to undo the back laces of the dress, she hastily tore it from her body, heavy fabric immedietly falling to the floor, leaving her in only her small clothes, a sheer gown, off white in color, devoid of embelishments, but softly draping over her form.

her body was a painting, brought before aegon to feast his eyes upon. his patience was wearing thin. he moved his hand to toutch her, blocked by her stepping back "please, my king, allow me" he gave a small pout, obeying none the less.

she spared no time in giving him what he wanted, fulfilling finally their shared wish. one leg at a time, she entered the still-somehwat-warm water but faltered, hesitating to put her weight on him,ever so afraid of causing aegon pain.

he sensed her hesitation "its ok, just toutch me, please" desperation filled his body, threatening to chocke him, laced in every word from his lips.

she brought their faces together again, his mouth spilling desperation into hers with every kiss. her hands became unafraid, egged on by aegons words, resting on his chest, one of them reaching further and further down, tracing featherlike lines with her fingers, untill they reached where she wanted. she took aegons cock in one hand, halfhard already, leading him to release a pleading whimper. "good boy" she uttered.

caution thrown to the wind, the praise getting to his head, aegon moaned oppenly. as she began to stroke him, his moans got more and more desperate, each movement of her wrist sending waves of pleasure to his body. much like her he had been starved of affection, all sort of affection, he was desperate to take whatever she was willing to give. "oh gods-"

she shushed him by graciously placing her lips on his, resuming their previous kisses. but it was nowhere near enough for aegon. his hands found purchase on her gown, bunching up the fabric, tugging desperatly. he wanted, nay needed more. he began to tug the gown upwards, a pleading movement, asking of her to be as voulnerable as himself. she was oh so ready to provide.

she took his hands into hers, guiding them to take the gown off, finally it went up, revealng her stomach and breasts to him. immedietly he moved, taking her form into his arms, placing kisses on her colarbone, wasting no time to go lower and lower, reaching her breasts. he took a nipple in his mouth suching in tandem with her thrusts. the princess threw her head back, moaning with her full chest, uncaring of the world around them.

her hand never faltered, his cock began to twitch with his impending release. he detatched from her body, panting like a dog on a dry day, each inhale sending waves of equal parts oxygen and lust in his brain, making his vision hazy. he was not ready to give her up yet.

"p-please, please, im close"

she halted her movements. aegons disapointment traced a path from his abdomen all the way to his throat, releasing a pained whine. his hands moved on her back, clutching her sides for support, the pleasure so rudely torn from him and the previous exhaustion, leaving him stranded in the storm that is the haze in his mind.

"why my darling ? did, did i do something ?" it came out almost more as a cry than a question. "no, aegon, ofcourse not, youre perfect"

his chest fell in relief, lips immedietly finding hers, a kiss of graditude. a kiss of praise. "but im not done with you quite yet. i only wish to please my king after all"

her hand moved to his cock again, she pulled her hips down simultaniously, guiding it to her entrance. his tip barely teased her entrance and he was already a goner. he thrust his hips upwards, chasing the contact he craved so much. "patience, your grace"

she moved his tip forth, coming into contact with her pearl, sending jolts of pleasure to both of them. aegon was on the verge of becoming undone, barely clinging onto his sanity. she gave him a tutt, looking down onto her voulnerable king, his eyes already on hers, looking through his lashes, void of inhibitions and filled with unimaginable lust.

"please" he whispered, begging, such a man brought down by one woman, broken down onto the barest pesces of his soul by the world, pu to gether again by her toutch. "yes, your grace"

finally, finally, she brought her hips down. his cock entered inch by excruciating inch, untill finally she settled, having taken him whole. she resisted moving though, taking strands of silver hair on the nape of his neck, tugging his head to her chest, burrying it between her breasts. his desperatuon had reached a tipping point, this simple act sending him over the edge, sobs wreacking his body once again.

"ooh, my boy, did i pain you ?"

"it just, it feels good. youre so good to me" he muttered, head still buried in her chest and burrowing further, leaving sloppy kisses on her flesh and sucking marks surely with the intent to leave a reminder of him. "aww my darling, do not fret, i will take care of you, just you wait"

she gave his head little reassuring scratches, attempting to ground him somewhat, preparing the boy under her for what was to come. cautiously she began to move her hips. the sobs wrecking her own body just as much as his, only giving her more courage.

the water of the tub began to sway, more and more and more, she picked up her pace, moving her hands through his back, tracing the rough parts of his scars, the sensitivity of those areas adding to his pleasure. her pace picked up further, frantic hip movements rocking the entirety of the tub, the furniture begining to scratch against the floor.

aegon could take it no longer, amidst sobs and moans he began to move is own hips, matching the pace of the princess. his movements executed with no semblance of grace nor purpose, only focused on his own pleasure, seeking retribution for his lost orgasm.

the tub rocked, water splashing all around, aegons sobs turned to little whimpers, salty tears mixing with his spit on his ongoing assault to her chest. her movements began to falter, close to finishing, the white-hot pleasure in her abdomen threatening to burst. her body began to tremble lightly, yet she kept her composure, still in servitude of her king. he was in no better state, cock begining to twitch once again.

he was so so close, and not about to stand for this one to be taken away from him aswell. she took notice of the familiar signs he displayed "im close, aegon, so close"

he took this as a sign to let go, holding her body down with all the strength he could muster, forcefully, halting her movements, selfish for once, taking what he wanted. her orgasm hit her with that final forcefull push on his cock, pleasure exploding from her abdomen, rocking her body while from toes to fingers, face twisting in an expression of absolute extasy, brows knitted together and mouth slightly agape. aegon peeked from her chest, looking up to her face, illuminated by the candles, light softly cradling her features, exposing to his hungry eyes her beautifull expression, the mutters from his mouth a prayer to her beauty.

his own orgasm took over his body, sending a final sob through his mouth, a final wave of tears to his eyes, hot seed spilling inside of her.

they stayed that way a while, her hands cradling his head, his own softening on her hips, softly massaging them, attoning for the shelfish way he had taken his pleasure.

she craned her head down, giving a final kiss to his lips, soft and innocent, unlike any previously shared. he looked so utterly mesmerised by her, though he would not say it, she knew, the same as he did, she kew this meant so much to him. they remained that way, sitting in their understanding, she would do anything for her king and he anything for his lover.

she had come in search of answers to her husbands behaviour yet was left with something different, better. she had gained an ally, more than, she had gained her first genuine friend, her very own lover.

[whirlybirbs]

please god give me "[ CLING ]: having finally been reunited, the sender pulls the receiver into a tight, overwhelmingly relieved embrace, clinging to them and burying their face in their shoulder" with astarion and gale.

┊ astarion ancunín + f!tav!reader┊ CLING

His voice is a near shriek — full of irritation.

"What is wrong with you, hm?!"

"Astarion, I am not in the mood—"

"Oh, well pardon me, my dear lady," comes the snarl of a snarked jest as he follows hot on your trail, "Had I known you weren't in the mood, I would simply have kept my mouth shut and let you die!"

"I had it handled!" you fire back, throwing your hands in the starry, night air and very much ignoring the inquisitive looks from the rest of camp. Astarion does not let up, in fact he jogs to follow more closely than before — right on your boot heels.

"He had a knife to your throat!"

"Wouldn't be the first time that's happened!"

"God, you are the most stubborn woman I have ever met—"

You finally reach your tent and slam your pack down on your makeshift vanity. Inside, the stolen wares rattle amongst pinched gold and silver. A few scrolls, a few potions; enough to get you and your rag-tag team through the next few days on the road.

You'd embarked into the town at sundown, with Astarion by your side, to pull a few old tricks. You're not a stranger to the silver-tongued methods of a thief. A few plucked lute strings, a few batted eyes. Usually, it's quick work. But, tonight you'd met a bit of resistance behind the town's tavern.

At the edge of camp, it's darker. The moon is hung half-full in the sky, and you gather your matches lighter to ignite your trusty lamp. However, the moment you move to flick the ignition, there's a hand on yours.

"Will you listen to me?"

"I told you," you huff haughtily, "I'm not in the mood, Astarion—"

Suddenly, he slaps the pack of matches from your hands.

It hits the ground a few feet away.

You look up at him, brow wrinkled in shock and confusion.

"...Rude..."

His face is set in a firm frown. And then, suddenly, he's pulling you into an embrace that is as unpracticed as it is rough. Your arms are cramped to your sides as the vampire presses his face hard into the crook of your shoulder. You can feel him huff, and then soften slightly.

Your attitude melts away.

"Don't do that again," comes a quiet, desperate utterance. You swear it will cling to your throat forever more; the sound of his true intentions, "As much as I hate to admit it, you've grown on me."

Your eyes slip shut. "...I'm sorry."

He scoffs. His nose, cold and delicate, brushes the skin of your throat.

Astarion can feel the thrum of life beneath your skin there; a familiar feeling. His heart pangs in want. He knows your scent best — comforting. Home. Even if you aren't entirely aware of it.

...But, he'll keep that to himself for now.

And maybe forever.

┊ gale dekarios + tav!reader ┊ CLING

It's a long trek back to camp — and by morning, you've never been happier to smell the last embers of a fire that's burnt noon and night.

Morning rays, fresh from the dawn, spill over the horizon as you meander into the camp. There's dew on your boots and blood in your hair. The gash along your side has long since coagulated into a sticky, cold mess; your leathers are drenched in all sorts of gore. Not all your own. Most belonging to the three Gnolls who had attempted to take you along with your hunted prey for the camp's dinner.

You lost the boar, your favorite bow, and a good amount of pride in the scuffle.

The moment you cross the threshold of camp, you can taste the tang of magic in the air.

You know, immediately, that it's Gale.

Perhaps it's your own awareness of the Weave, or a particular tenderness for the Wizard himself, but you feel him before you see him.

And then, it's a crushing embrace.

His toiling is long forgotten the moment he lays eyes on you, in all your brutality, and he can't help but surge forward with enough momentum to nearly knock you both breathless.

"Where the hell have you been? Avernus?" he mutters, one hand moving to gently cradle the back of your head. His palm is warm, radiating already with a healing magic that alights the air with the smell of lavender.

"Met a bit of trouble fetching us dinner—"

"Karlach will have your head," Gale says, leaning back to eye you up and down as a warm sweep of light graces your edges. You feel it, like a touch white-hot against bare skin. Intimate. Caring. Different entirely from Shadowheart's healing entirely, "She has been out all night searching for you — Astarion, too."

"I'm fine," you mutter — pointedly keeping the fact you had been chased up a tree by the aforementioned Gnolls to yourself — hands falling to his waist, "And I'm ruining your robes."

"Hush."

The magic pulses hotly, and you slip your eyes shut at the intrusion. His sternness comes robed in warmth. A safe sort of thing.

Gale pulls away only long enough to plant a kiss on your brow.

AS ALWAYS: prompts are here, the ask box is here.