#i had never played it before and i Instantly got addicted

[agirlsawalittlerose]

This is Me Trying

ModernAU!Aegon x OFC

Fresh out of rehab, Aegon Targaryen is looking for a way back into music when he meets Victoria, a talented but stubborn singer-songwriter who wants nothing to do with his family’s record label. Reluctantly thrown together, they form an unexpected creative partnership, finding common ground in music and shared struggles.

TW: Alcoholism, Addiction, Sexism

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 13: Sunday Morning

“Negative,” Miss Hughes announced, snapping him back to the present.

The doctor—mid-fifties, thin to the point of looking fragile, with blonde hair falling perfectly over her shoulders—was the picture of composure. Fitting, really, that she was the director of this pastel-colored hellhole with its endless supply of potted plants, the place he’d been trapped in for five months.

She held the papers confirming his toxicology results.

No shit it was negative.

Beside him, his mother let out a breath that sounded like it had been stuck in her throat for about thirty years—give or take, since the moment he was born. Aegon noticed how she almost glanced at him, her brown eyes flicking in his direction for a fraction of a second, even though she didn’t move her head.

He reached for her hand, a silent acknowledgment that he understood. But she stiffened instantly, so he let go.

“On behalf of the entire clinic, well done, Aegon.”

Miss Hughes’s voice was syrupy, overly sweet—so much so that Aegon could hear the insincerity dripping from it without even looking at her.

“He really didn’t use anything?” his mother asked, as if she couldn’t quite believe it.

Great. Thanks for the vote of confidence.

“No cocaine, no opioids, no amphetamines, not even cannabinoids,” Miss Hughes confirmed with that same artificial smile.

“Thank God…” his mother murmured, finally meeting his gaze—only to be met with resentment. Another reminder that she had never truly believed in him.

“Well, in that case, we can schedule the next follow-up in six months…” Miss Hughes began, addressing his mother, before suddenly catching herself and turning to him, as if it had only just occurred to her that he was, in fact, an adult. “…And if you’re ready, Mr. Dalton is waiting for you on the second floor.”

No, he wasn’t ready. He had no fucking interest in having his brain poked at by some shrink.

But then again, he had no fucking interest in being here at all.

The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he’d be out of here and back in London.

Mr. Dalton was younger than Miss Hughes. He still had all his dark hair—though Aegon, ever the cynic, wondered if he dyed it—neatly parted to the side in a way that looked ridiculous.

He sat slouched at his desk, the kind of studied casualness that screamed I’m cool, I’m young, I’m laid-back. But, like every other mannequin in this place, the reality was something else entirely.

“Miss Hughes said you’ve stayed clean,” he began, leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped in front of him.

“Are you surprised?” Aegon shot back, just as lazily slouching into his own seat.

Dalton chuckled—because, of course, he couldn’t pass up the chance to seem even more easygoing by laughing at Aegon’s sarcasm.

“I’m not surprised—I’m proud, Aegon,” he corrected.

Mhm, Aegon thought, not quite sure if he bought it.

“What have you been up to lately?” Dalton asked next.

“I’ve been playing a lot…” Aegon replied absently.

“Good.”

“I’m working on an album. And this time, it’s actually going pretty well.”

“Great. Music’s a positive outlet—”

No shit, Aegon thought.

“—Are you picking up where you left off?” Dalton pressed, carefully choosing his words.

Aegon stared at him for a second, debating whether he even wanted to give him the details.

“…No. I started a new project from scratch. Switched up my whole team.”

Vic’s face flooded his brain like a tidal wave.

He shut his eyes for half a second, trying to push her out.

“We’re working on the arrangement for the single now. The producer pulled together some session musicians, including the bassist—she actually plays basically everything, also she’s co-writing the song, along with a bunch of others on the album. We’re supposed to debut it at the label’s Christmas party.”

Dalton nodded along with his usual brand of forced interest.

“Whoa, big debut at your dad’s party,” Dalton remarked.

Aegon cringed. Every word out of his mouth sounded like it belonged to someone who still thought groovy was cutting-edge slang.

“How do you feel about it?”

Aegon froze for a second, actually considering the question.

Awful. That was how he felt.

Anxious. Unsteady. Like he was balancing on razor wire.

“Sick,” he muttered.

Dalton pulled out his best attempt at a sympathetic frown.

“Well, that’s only natural. What does your brother think?”

“What the fuck would he think?”

“I know you two don’t get along, but he knows what your dad is like. Maybe talking to someone who understands that pressure could help.”

Right. Sure.

Having a heart-to-heart with Aemond. As if.

Aegon still didn’t fully understand why the grim reaper had even bothered backing him up when it came to convincing their father to produce the album—let alone why he’d suddenly start trusting him enough to talk about any of this.

“I wouldn’t feel comfortable discussing it with him,” Aegon said flatly.

“Anyone in the band you trust?”

Vic’s smile flashed through his mind. Her hair on his shoulder. Her eyelashes, damp with rain in Ruskin Park. The heat of her skin under his hands, pressed against a brick wall—

“No. No one.”

Dalton nodded, not pushing it. “Well, if it ever gets overwhelming and you need to talk, you have my number.”

Aegon nearly shot back with something sarcastic—Oh, yeah, I’ll definitely call you when I’m feeling down—but then he caught something in Dalton’s expression.

Something that actually looked… genuine.

For a second, he wondered if he was imagining it. Maybe just stepping into this place was making the withdrawal symptoms return, messing with his head.

Better not risk sticking around to find out.

He nodded, shook Dalton’s hand, and got the hell out of there.

His mother was waiting on one of the chairs by the door. She shot up the second she saw him, giving him something that almost passed for a smile.

“You did well,” she said, placing her hands on his shoulders. “I need to know what I can do to help you keep getting better.”

Aegon paused, thinking it over.

Yeah.

He had an idea.

The pub was crowded—not elbow-your-way-to-the-bar crowded, but busy enough that Aegon had to duck under a flying arm and narrowly avoid a pint glass to the face.

Not that he gave a shit. He wasn’t here for the atmosphere.

He was here for Sara.

Sara was talking to the other guy who worked with her—a scruffy-looking giant who probably hadn’t touched a bottle of shampoo since 2008.

And speaking of disappointments—

Vic.

She was leaning against the counter a few feet away, elbow propped up, looking thoroughly unimpressed with whatever the guy next to her was saying. Her eyes flickered to Aegon for half a second, then away.

He ignored her.

“Hey,” he greeted, riding a sudden wave of confidence.

“Hey!” Sara trilled, almost too enthusiastically, like she was grateful for an excuse to escape the giant’s attention.

“So, have you thought about it?” Aegon cut straight to the point, leaning on the bar and drumming his rings against the wood.

Sara smirked at him, but for some reason, he got the distinct impression that no, she hadn’t thought about it. She flicked a glance in Vic’s direction.

Aegon followed her gaze, rolling his eyes.

Vic must have felt them watching her because she looked over—just for a second—before quickly turning back to the customer in front of her.

Sara arched a brow at Aegon. “Have you thought about it?”

For fuck’s sake.

No, he hadn’t thought about it. If he was here tonight, it was exactly because he didn’t want to think about it.

Sara gave him one last deeply skeptical look, then—before he could even think of his next move—announced, “I have work to do,” and disappeared into the back.

Aegon blinked at the now-empty spot where she’d been standing.

Well.

That had been a record-time rejection.

He sighed, shifting his weight onto the bar—only to find a pair of brown eyes watching him.

Vic.

She raised an eyebrow. He raised one right back.

Then, with an exaggerated air of disinterest, she turned back toward the counter.

Aegon scoffed. “Yeah, alright. You’re dying to talk to me.”

She glanced at him again. “You wish I was dying to talk to you.”

“Oh, come on. I can practically hear you itching to ask what the hell is Cinderella doing out past curfew.” He smirked, propping his elbows on the counter.

Vic snorted. “Seems to me like you’re the one dying for me to ask, Cinderella.”

Okay, maybe she had a point—but there was a damn good reason for that.

She gave him a look, waiting. “Well?”

He tilted his head. “You keeping tabs on me?”

“Someone has to.”

“Cute,” he said. “Actually, I just had my check-in at rehab today.” He leaned in a little, lowering his voice mock-conspiratorially. “Guess what? Clean as a fucking whistle.”

Vic’s expression didn’t shift much, but she paused—just for a second, just enough that Aegon noticed.

Then she shrugged. “Congrats.”

He scoffed. “That’s it?”

She feigned confusion. “What, you want a balloon?”

“Maybe a little more enthusiasm,” he said. “A confetti cannon. Fireworks. A marching band, at minimum—”

Vic didn’t even look up as she poured a pint for him. “I can grab a cocktail umbrella and stick it in your beer if you want.”

He smirked. “Wow. Your generosity knows no bounds.”

Then, just as casually, she said, “Well, I knew you’d be clean.”

Aegon paused for a moment.

He’d heard it all day—Hughes and Dalton repeating it in that irritatingly performative way—but somehow, hearing it from her, from that damn viper, despite the cold war still raging between them… it actually felt good.

That bitch sounded sincere.

Maybe he’d been wrong about the way he’d processed his fascination with her. She didn’t need a man; she needed an addict to sponsor.

Maybe Vic was a witch—like Stevie Nicks, blessing people through bodily fluids—and suddenly, not only could you resist the urge to snort a line, but you actually felt genuinely proud of yourself for it.

It was the only explanation he could come up with for the stupid boost of confidence he’d gotten from the way she’d said she knew he’d stay clean.

Aegon huffed a quiet laugh, half amused, half exasperated. “You really gotta stop hyping me up. It’s messing with my whole vibe.”

Vic smirked. “Yeah? What vibe is that?”

Aegon leaned on the counter, smirking back. “Tragic rockstar. Hopeless case. Miserable, self-destructive lost cause—”

Vic handed off another drink to a woman, then shot him an unimpressed look. “Maybe you need a new brand.”

Aegon scoffed, drumming his fingers against the counter. From the corner of his eye, he noticed a guy onstage strumming an acoustic guitar. His voice was decent, but nothing spectacular—one of those breathy, indie types who thought looking miserable while singing made them deep.

“Oh, come on,” Aegon groaned. “This guy gets a turn?”

Vic shot him a look. “It’s open mic.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said, rolling his eyes.

She smirked. “And yet you sound offended.”

“I am offended. This guy sounds like he’s narrating his own funeral.”

Vic just shrugged, turning back to her work. “We let anyone sing. That’s kind of the point.”

They were both interrupted by the familiar sight of a horror movie scarecrow approaching the bar.

“This must be your lucky day, princess,” Aegon drawled, smirking. “Full house tonight.”

Aemond ignored him, stepping up to the bar—where Vic greeted him with a nod.

“Aemond,” she said simply.

Aemond nodded back. “Vic.”

Aegon couldn’t help but notice how Vic didn’t so much as blink. She didn’t look surprised to see him—if anything, it was like she’d been expecting him.

Interesting.

Aemond didn’t even glance at him before speaking again. “You’re playing tonight?”

She shrugged. “Later.”

Then, finally, he acknowledged his brother.

“How was rehab?”

Okay, that was weird.

It was one thing for Aemond not to look like he actively hated sharing air with the other eight billion people on Earth—who were, of course, all inferior to him—but to ask Aegon a personal question, and actually sound like he meant it? That was new.

Aegon hesitated for a beat before shrugging. “Fine.”

Aemond gave him a look. “Just fine?”

Aegon rolled his eyes. “What do you want me to say? They poked at my brain, asked how I was feeling, I said ‘peachy,’ and they let me go.”

“Brilliant,” Aemond deadpanned.

“I graduated,” Aegon continued, spreading his arms. “Finally unleashed, free to go out at night without a babysitter.”

Aemond raised an eyebrow. “Does Mum know?”

“She practically suggested it.”

Aemond made a thoughtful mh, clearly skeptical.

Vic, who’d been watching the exchange with mild curiosity, a rag slung over her shoulder, smirked.

Aemond turned back to her. “Too much to ask for a pint?”

Aegon was probably hallucinating, because he could’ve sworn he saw his brother’s ears go red.

Vic brushed her bangs out of her eyes, smiling at him. “Not too much at all,” she said before disappearing toward the taps.

Aegon noticed she hadn’t asked what kind of beer he wanted.

Suddenly it all clicked.

“You’ve got a little crush.”

Aemond’s jaw tensed. “Don’t be an idiot.”

“Hey, no judgment here. She’s got that whole tortured, I-drink-myself-to-sleep-but-make-it-poetic thing going on. I can see the appeal.”

Aemond’s eye flicked toward him, sharp and assessing. “What did rehab say about your addiction to being a dickhead 100% of the time?”

Aegon’s smirk didn’t waver. “Unfortunately, there’s no cure for that.”

“Hm.” Aemond looked unconvinced but didn’t press. He stood, straightening his coat just as Vic approached with his beer. “Stay out of trouble tonight. Don’t make Mum regret that stupid decision she made.”

Aegon’s grin sharpened. “Stay out of her pants. Not very professional, is it?”

Aemond didn’t dignify that with a response.

Vic was making her way toward the stage now, guitar in hand, adjusting the strap as she went. The low hum of conversation around the pub dipped slightly, just for a second, just enough to make Aegon wonder how many of these people were regulars—how many had come here just to see her.

Aemond, for one, wasn’t going anywhere.

Aegon watched him take a seat at the table closest to the stage, posture perfectly straight, hands clasped together in front of him. He wasn’t drinking, wasn’t looking at his phone—just watching Vic with a level of focus that made Aegon snort into his glass.

Unbelievable.

He leaned back against the bar, pretending he wasn’t watching.

Pretending it didn’t matter.

Jesus Christ.

Aegon turned his head, scanning the bar until he found Sara a few feet away, drying a pint glass. He leaned over.

“Hey.”

She arched an eyebrow. “You’re still here?”

Aegon ignored that. “What’s with my brother?”

Sara blinked. “What?”

He jutted his chin toward Aemond, who was still locked in like a soldier at attention. “The hell is that?”

Sara followed his gaze, frowning.

Aegon gave her a look. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

She shrugged. “I mean, I knew he came here sometimes.”

Aegon scoffed. “Yeah, well, that—” he gestured vaguely at Aemond, who was currently staring at Vic like she’d hung the damn moon—“is something else.”

Sara narrowed her eyes slightly, tilting her head as she watched Aemond for a few seconds longer. Then she just shrugged. “Beats me.”

Aegon huffed, shaking his head. “Hilarious.”

Sara smirked and turned back to her work.

Aegon took another sip of his drink, settling in as Vic adjusted the strap of her guitar and tested a chord.

Her fingers moved easily over the frets, like she wasn’t even thinking about it. Like the guitar was just another part of her, something stitched into the fabric of her being.

And then she started to sing.

Aegon exhaled sharply, pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

Because fuck her.

Fuck her for this, for being so good at this, for making something beautiful out of nothing while he was stuck clawing at the edges of whatever the fuck was left of him.

Fuck her for looking like this, sounding like this—like something effortless, something whole.

And most of all—

Fuck her for that night.

For taking what she wanted, for leaving him like nothing had happened.

Aegon’s grip tightened around his glass.

Because the worst part?

He still wanted her.

[strwbrryfire]

think the funniest memory i have from this year is when i literally played hades for a day straight . like . without eating or drinking water or anything i literally sat in my bed glued to my switch for An Entire Day

[rebelssvy]

addicted ✧.*

nanami x reader ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

added twt links !!!

summary: nanami was going out of town and had you recreate his fave porn so he could record. a little spanking, sex, oral sex fem receiving, he finishes in u.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

this came from an ask. i am working on the second part of it now, ukai version. save urself. this was also my first full jjk fic!!! lmk what u think

nanami had an actual problem. he was addicted to your pussy.

he was going on a mission soon, and the though of not having you clamping down on his cock every night brought him close to tears. he’s never been this emotionally distraught in his life. finally an idea struck his mind.

“my love?” he said as you two were cuddling in bed. your wine glass was on the counter next to you. deeply immersed in his love you lazily turned to face him.

“yes?” your voice alone did things to him. ungodly things. things that made him go heavy in the head.

“my mission is coming up soon and… i just keep thinking about how much im gonna miss you.” he said rolling over to put his head in the pillows. arm still draped over you.

you could tell the man was in heat. he was always so obvious with it. the way he would get al obsessed with you. and trust me he’s always obsessed with you. there was no doubt in your mind that he loved you. but there was somthing different about the way he yearned for you.

he was truly irresistible though.

“baby?” you tapped him on the shoulder to look up at you. his face was all flushed and his hair was ragged. fuck. he was perfect.

“hmm?” he mumbled, all drawn out. the next words that were going to come out of you were going to be truly shocking to him.

“wanna fuck me and record it for when you go away?” the smile on your face was blinding as you watched his entire demeanor change.

“fuckk babe that was the sexiest thing you’ve ever said.” he said before instantly pulling out his phone. you stopped him short.

“mmhmh not yet baby… first.. lets get some inspiration.” taking his phone out of his hands. you unlocked it and went straight to the compilation of porn he had ‘hidden’ on his phone. you knew where it was a week into dating him. only just recently have you been sending eachother videos labeled ‘when r we trying this?’

excitement filled your gut. all of your body stood on end as you scrolled though his personal collection. all his kinks, all his thoughts and secrets on a screen.

some of the videos added were new. you hadn’t seen them before. like this one of a girl practically jumping up and down on her bfs dick. fuck. that shit was hot. “i imagined fuckin you like that… after work and i come home an ur al hot f’me.” he slurred like he was drunk. but he was just drunk off your pussy. not even close to touching you and he was al riled up like a dog in heat.

the next one was foul. a girl chained up to a chair as the man had his cock buried in her underwear. pinching her clit tight and smacking her ass. you didn’t know he watched stuff like this. especially since he was normally all vanilla with you. his voice rang out in your ears when he spoke. “i’m sorry darling that one…. isn’t like me. i just can’t get it out of my head though… my pretty girl all tied up to my desk in my office… fuckkk. god let me touch you.” the way he rambled on you knew he was way past his limit.

you went to set his phone down but he cut you off. “no. keep watching. i’m gonna play with you and your gonna keep watching porn. got that?” you gasped at how demanding he was. he really truly normally wasn’t like this. it was.. hot.

“okay…” you said, hesitant.

you scrolled as he kissed and licked all your open skin. taking his sweet his taking off your undergarments. when you were fully naked he spent several seconds just staring at you before touching you. your wettness pooled as he then spread your legs. looking the most eager he ever has he licked your pussy. smacking on your clit and tounge fucking you.

“keep watching my phone baby.” he said into your sloppy cunt. brining two fingers to your hole, before putting them in.

it was hard to concentrate on the, man 69 his girl. when nanami was groaning under you. just from your taste. you forcefully pried your eyes back onto the screen.

you gasped when you came across a video so unholy you tightened around his fingers. “fuck me like this! please an- and record it! pleasee babe…” you held up the video to him, a girl getting so pounded her face was pushed into the couch.

he groaned under you. “fuck babe… i have dreamt of doing that to you. fuckin ur pussy al raw…” he mumbled to himself before pulling you into a missionary position. it was more intimate. you didn’t mind. but you wanted to be fucked tonight.

he pulled out his phone, his demeanor changed. suddenly, a fire filled his eyes. slapping his stop on your clit. he recorded everything. your face, your body, your wet fucking cunt. god. you needed him.

“please… i need ur cock…” you were suddenly camera shy. you didn’t know how to act anymore.

“want it so fuckin bad…?” he mumbled before shoving himself balls deep into you. the movement was harsh. your back arched into him. he was girthy. sometimes he was too much. you screamed out. not looking at the camera.

“…look at me baby..” he mumbled, phone in hand pounding into you. you let your head fall back.

“when i say look at the camera..” his voice was sharper, before he laid a soft little slap on your spred pussy. “- u fuckin look at the camera.” that movement awoke somthing in you.

“fuck na-! harder. slap me harder.” you moaned out. as if he wasn’t already balls deep in your sopping cunt.. he pounded you at rapid speed now.

almost like that angle wasn’t enough, he turned out over onto your face, ass up, like the girl in the video.

“fuck me! nanami~ fuck i’m gonna miss your fat cock…!” you moaned out to him. the words went straight to his cock and he fucked you like it.

his pace changed rapidly, grabbing into on of your arms with his free hand, he propped the camera up with the other. getting a clear view of you taking his cock like his little doll. you watched in the phones reflection of you getting pounded. your wet pussy getting torn apart.

it was all overwhelming you came on his cock without recognizing. the pressure was too great. it was too much. you were approaching your second orgasm. you went to warn him but no words came out of your mouth. just moans and gasps. plowing for your second orgasm, the way your tight pussy clenched on his fat fucking cock made him burie his load deep in your cunt. his liquid filled u up to the brim. almost too fucked out to hear his ple’s behind you.

“god y’ur so fuckin perfect.. this pussy- all mine. fuck yes all mine…” he mumbled over and over.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

ukai ver. soon…

[cutieln4]

Let’s Fall In Love For The Night | LN4

lando norris x reader

summary: you fell in love with him on vacation, he tells you he’s not looking for a relationship. he’s in denial.

written + smau

As a uni student with an internship, you had absolutely no time, and money was sparse. So it's been years since you've had a break. But, after saving money from your summer job, and a lot of convincing from your friends, you were finally going on vacation.  

On the second day, you were attempting to play volleyball on the beach. However, it wasn't going so well. 

"I got it!" you yelled, frantically running with your eyes on the ball in the air. 

You weren't expecting to run into someone, causing you to fall back, the volleyball landing a few meters away.

"Oh— I am so so sorry," a British voice apologized. 

And when you looked up at him, your breath got taken away. He towered over you, tan skin and dark curls falling onto his forehead. You tried not to focus too hard on his abs as you scanned your eyes over him.

Once you snapped out of your trance, you grabbed his outstretched hand and hoped he hadn't caught you staring at him. 

"Sorry, I should've been more careful," you brushed his apology off. 

"No, no, it was my fault. I'm Lando, by the way."

"Y/n," you replied.

"Well, Y/n, why don't you let me make it up to you?"

 "What did you have in mind?" you asked, a small smile gracing your lips.

"How about we grab some smoothies together after your game?" he suggested. 

You agreed, and he told you where he would be waiting.

"I'll find you when we're done."

"Perfect, it's a date," he winked, and then he was gone. 

Wide-eyed, you walked back to your friends, who squealed with glee when they heard about your plans. You hadn't been on a date in over two years, after all. 

yourusername

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yourusername sunkissed😚 (i’m completely burnt)

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friend1 girl we told you to put on sunscreen

friend2 BODY IS TEAAA💅💅

friend3 right yeah just skip over the SUPER ROMANTIC sunset beach picnic…right…

yourusername shh🤫

friend4 my baby is all grown up🥺

yourusername i talk to ONE guy

friend5 come back i miss youuuu

After that day, you started seeing Lando every day. You would go out into the town together, go to the club together, walk on the beach during sunset together, and your feelings were suddenly becoming very real. 

And then you kissed. When your lips connected, it felt like everything going on in the background dulled and it was just you and him, alone on the beach. It felt like nothing else in the world mattered as long as you were with him. His lips were addicting, and you couldn't get enough. 

You got to know Lando at such a personal level. You connected with him like you hadn't connected with anyone else before. You told him things you've never told anyone else. You squeezed a whole relationship into the 3 weeks that you were there. It felt perfect. 

~~~~~~~~~~

landonorris

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landonorris rested and recharged😊

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user1 THE POSE

user2 bro did NOT set that picnic up himself

user3 THE PICNIC HELLO??? thats so cuteeee

user4 now who did he eat that with🤨

user5 we lost a good one y’all😔

user6 NOOOO THAT SHOULD BE ME!!!

user7 come home the kids miss you

~~~~~~~~~~

Lando had never met someone like Y/n before. She was funny, kind, smart, and had a smile that made his stomach flutter. The way he instantly connected with her, it was like they were made for each other. She didn't even know who he was, she just liked him for him. 

But it was too good to be true. You were in your last year of Uni, and the last thing you probably wanted was a serious relationship. He assumed you wanted to live your life after this, and wanted nothing to do with him. 

It was just a little fling, that's all. So he dreaded when he would have to leave. 

"Hey, we should talk," he told you as you lay next to each other on the beach. 

"Sure, what's up?"

"My flight to go home is tomorrow. And I'm sure you're not looking for a relationship right now, and neither am I to be honest. But, I had a really good time hanging out with you."

He didn't see the way that your face dropped. "Oh, right. Yeah. Yeah. It was just a bit of fun, I guess."

It went silent after that and unbeknownst to each other, they both had knots in their stomachs.

Early the next morning, Lando was on a flight home, and Y/n went home the next day, completely heartbroken.

Lando sat on the jet with Max Fewtrell across from him, his head leaning against the window as he stared longingly at the ocean below.

"So, did you get Y/n's number? You seemed to really hit it off," Max commented

Lando sighed deeply, tearing his gaze from the window as he shook his head.

"No, I told her I wasn't looking for a relationship."

"And is that true?"

"No, I actually really liked her," he admitted, avoiding eye contact as he picked at his fingernails.

"Knobhead."

Lando stared at Max with his mouth agape and eyes wide.

"Did you get her Instagram at least?"

"No."

"How about her last name?"

Lando shook his head.

"Fucking idiot," Max sighed.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'll get over her."

~~~~~~~~~~

"Wait, wait, tell me again what he said?" Y/n's friend asked in the hotel room.

"He assumed I didn't want a relationship and then he said that he didn't want a relationship either. So that was it. It's done."

"What a dickhead," Y/n's other friend commented, sighing.

"Yep, well, that's what I get for talking to men."

"Maybe you can clear things up? I assume you have his number or Instagram or something?"

"No, I don't," Y/n replied.

"Maybe we can look him up, what's his last name?"

"Um, I don't know."

"You're kidding right?" Y/n's friend said, groaning loudly at her stupidness.

"It's fine. It was just a little fling," Y/n dismissed.

"You were literally gushing about him on Twitter and saying that you thought you loved him."

"I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

When she got home, she spent two days just rotting in her bed, mascara stained on her cheeks.

~~~~~~~~~~

The season continued for Lando, and he thought he would be able to forget about you quickly, but he was wrong.

All he could think about was your striking eyes, your infectious laugh, and your contagious smile. He closed his eyes all all he saw was your face.

He was sure that you were haunting him.

5 races later, his distracted behavior was getting noticeable.

"-Lando, Lando?"

He suddenly snapped out of his trance, realizing that his engineer was trying to get his attention during the debriefing.

"Sorry, what?"

"Are you feeling okay, Lando?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine. What were you saying?"

Oscar gave him a look from across the room, but he just shook his head. Afterward, as he walked back to his driver's room, he opened his phone to look at a picture of you.

He had taken it while you weren't looking. Your head was tilted back in laughter, your eyes bright and cheerful. You looked like the most beautiful woman to ever exist.

"Who's that?" Oscar asked from beside him, and Lando jumped at his unexpected arrival.

"Jeez, warn a guy next time. It's no one."

"If it's no one then why are you always staring at her?"

Lando glared at him.

"Look, I met her during summer break, I blew it and told her I didn't want a relationship when it was a lie, but I don't have any of her contact info and I only know her first name."

"Surely you can find her somehow? Or she can find you? You are famous, after all."

Lando stopped walking suddenly, a smile forming on his face.

"You're a genius, thanks Oscar!" he yelled as he sprinted to his driver's room.

landonorris

Liked by maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri, and others

landonorris ATTENTION PLEASE!! HELP NEEDED!! I am in desperate need to find this girl! Whoever can find her will receive nothing but please help me!!!!!

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username1 wtf is happening...

username2 this gotta be the girl from the picnic during summer break

username3 no shit sherlock

username4 this is not very demure...

username5 not cutesy at all...

username6 OMG SHES SO CUTE AND PRETTY

username7 need me a man that will scour the internet to find me

username8 so is this considered a hard launch?

username9 well now i gotta know the story cause i'm a nosy bitch

username10 wait i recognize her! i think she's a friend of my friend hold on

username10 here's her instagram @.yourusername

Lando had her Instagram within 10 minutes. He thought of just messaging her, but he really needed to get his message across.

So, with a quick google search, he was able to find her address.

He went straight from the track to the airport.

~~~~~~~~~~

You opened your Instagram to find thousands of new followers, hundreds of messages, and a bunch of mentions in comments.

Furrowing your eyebrows in extreme confusion, you clicked on the notification and it brought you to a post...with your face on it.

Getting even more confused, you checked the username. Lando Norris.

No fucking way.

You clicked on her profile, and it was really him. And turns out he was a famous, millionaire, Formula 1 driver.

What the actual fuck. And why was he trying to find you? Last you heard he wasn't interested in a relationship...not that you were still bitter or anything.

Shit, you couldn't do anything now, you had Uni to get to. You quickly got ready, grabbing your back and walking toward your car.

"Wait! Y/n!"

A shout of your name immediately grabbed your attention, and you turned around.

There he was, just as beautiful as he was two months ago. The air left your lungs as you took in his appearance. He was actually here.

"Lando. You're here."

"Yeah. Have you been on your phone today."

You nodded.

"Sorry for posting you, I was just so desperate to find you. I know I said I wasn't looking for a relationship but I just said that because that's what I thought you wanted and I'm really really sorry about that but I've been so miserable without you and—"

You cut him off, wrapping your hand around his neck and pulling him into a kiss.

"You are such a fool," you told him.

"I know," he sighed in relief, a wide smile on his face.

"Anyway, how did you find my address?"

"Google."

"And you couldn't just message me when you found my Instagram?"

"I had to get my point across."

You chuckled, pulling him into another kiss.

"As much as I'd love to stay here and kiss you more, I have to get to class."

"Right, I'll uh... get a hotel or something."

"You can stay in my flat, loser," you laughed, tossing him the keys.

yourusername added to their story

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friend1 i'm so happy for you babe

landonorris i like the papaya hearts ;)

username1 NO WAY HE FLEW ALL THE WAY FROM AUSTIN TO SEE YOU

landonorris

Liked by yourusername, maxfewtrell and others

landonorris I found you, my love🧡

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maxfewtrell finally mate

username1 YAYY WE DID IT

username2 con😭grat😭ul😭ations😭

username3 they’re so cute wtf

username4 i’m sleeping on the highway tonight

yourusername you’re the best thing that’s happened to me🫶💕

username5 bro i need to know the whole story

username6 the pictures are so aesthetic omg

username7 now THIS is demure

username8 very cutesy

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

Add yourself to my taglist!

all works taglist: @evasmlp @partnerincrime0

[sugarlywhispers]

b.katsuki x fem reader | virgin!bakugou × experienced!reader + first time + both heroes.

a.n; i was watching the Twilight movies, and when Breaking Dawn started, one particular scene inspired this… sorry, not sorry. ✌🏻🙃

The first time Bakugou Katsuki and you are intimate is a completely different experience for both of you.

For you, it has been a night you'll never forget. It has been the most magical and intimate experience of your life. His hands caressing the skin of your body has marked you as his forever. His kisses on each corner of your body has sealed a pact in which your soul became one with his. And when he finally entered you, you felt doomed and blessed at the same time. He flew you to heaven with each thrust, each shared breath. But the sight of his red eyes made you feel the burn of hell. The desire, the passion, the all consuming warmth of which you would gladly get addicted to.

It has been a magnificent night for you.

Yet for him…

When you wake up, you feel the pleasurable ache of your limbs and the satisfying burn down there, witnesses of the best night shared with the love of your life. Perfect. It has been perfect. You smile happily, opening your eyes, and finally taking in your surroundings. Headboard of the bed was destroyed, and no amount of effort could repair the damage of broken and burnt wood. Some pillows had been ripped, small feathers still dancing in the air around you. Even the sheets had been burnt and ripped in some places, specifically where his hands had been placed.

Your smile turned a bit cheeky. And proud. Honestly, it is a lie if you say that the environment that shined around you doesn't bust your ego up a bit.

Your boyfriend is nowhere to be seen though.

But you find him after a few minutes of searching for him.

Katsuki is sitting over the arm of the couch in the living room, head hanging low and an almost grunt leaving his mouth showing his annoyance. That's weird.

“Hey, love,” you say almost in a whisper. Knowing your man the way you do, you are always slow and gentle in your approach. He has healed tons after the war, but you are still careful and considerate to not provoke any bad reaction –even though he has told you millions of times that he doesn't mind you, or anything that came from you.

Katsuki raises his head towards you as you stand in front of him in between his legs, your arms immediately surrounding his neck and fingers playing with the hair in the back of his head. His expression softens immediately, but it doesn't match your shining smile.

You're expecting a “good morning, love” in a sweet tone, yet what you receive is completely the opposite.

“How badly are you hurt?” His tone is annoyed, angry almost. But also there's worry right in the front, so you know he's not angry with you.

Yet you can't avoid but to frown in confusion, “What? I'm not-...”

“Fuck, yes, you are… Look,” he signals the mirror right behind you as he pulls down one side of the robe you put on right when you got up from bed, exposing your right shoulder and a bit of your back.

Your eyebrows shoot straight up at the sight the mirror reflects, surprised. There's bruises that are turning purple and small burns that definitely weren't there before last night started.

A flashback immediately fills your mind, remembering you what provided such a wound.

You close your legs around his hips as he slowly raises the strength and speed of his thrust. Your moans and whines sing in his ears as the most beautiful song he has ever heard. He is so close to you, face almost hidden in your neck as he breathes strongly, eyes closed.

You get bold and decide to kiss and lick his neck, right under his ear. And that is what finally gets him to make a more prominent sound, groaning from deep within his chest, one forceful thrust that almost takes all the breath from your lungs and makes you see stars behind your eyes. One of his hands instantly holds the back of your shoulder to try and ground himself from the sudden burst of pleasure both of you felt.

You remember feeling a bit of a burn, but honestly, you had been so lost in the pleasure you barely felt it.

“Baby, that's nothin’...”

“No, it fucking isn't! Look here!” He pulls up the end of the robe, exposing now the back of your left thigh.

Oh. Wow. The burn there is way more deep and red and painful looking. That will definitely need an ointment or something. You get now why it hurt a little bit when you walked.

And again, a flashback.

Of Katsuki resting his forehead over yours, grunts and pants leaving his mouth freely as his thrusts get a bit erratic, desperate to catch that orgasm that is pushing him from the inside out. His left forearm is resting next to your head –you remember now hearing some tearing sound then– holding his weight as much as he can, yet you feel all of him over you. And you love it. His other hand holds the back of your thigh tightly against his hip, like it is the anchor that reminds him where he is. Like the only thing that keeps him from losing himself in the farthest cloud of heaven.

One, two, three more thrusts, and he loses the battle to all of his senses as your hands almost scratch the skin of his back, your walls closing on him and pushing him towards an exquisite feeling he couldn't describe. It is too precious to define it in one mundane word.

Again, you felt the burn at the moment, but it had been so filled with pleasure as you both came together that your mind barely registered it as a wound.

“Fuck! I'm so sorry…” The desperation and regret are clear in all his face and movements as he walks away from you towards the other side of the room.

You feel… disappointed. Why is he getting away from you? Why is he so angry? This is definitely not how you imagined the day after being.

“Don't. Don't do this…” You protest, walking again towards him. “I'm fine-...”

“NO. Don't you say you're fine, ‘cause you're clearly fucking not!”

“Katsuki, please, don't ruin this!”

“I already fucking ruined it!”

You sigh. You know what's happening. He's letting his self-destructive thoughts get to him. He's blaming himself over something that he didn't have control over. And that makes you sad. So you approach him again, this time more calmed.

“Love, I am a hero too. I have been injured way worse than this… Please. Don't you see how freaking happy I am?”

Your tone is calm, sweet even. And he lets you get closer again, your hands touching his chest, sliding up towards his neck. He breathes in deeply.

“Or was, five seconds ago. I'm actually a bit pissed off now…” You admit.

“You should be fucking angry with me.”

You roll your eyes. “Katsuki, we talked about it. We knew our Quirks could backfire a bit on us, especially in a moment like that… Neither of us were alert enough.” Your hands caress his cheeks, body pressing against his. But he doesn't touch you, or moves in any way. “For me, it has been one of the best nights of my life… I don't know… I hope that… it was at least good for you too…”

He snorts, “That's what you're worried about? That I didn't fucking enjoyed myself?”

Your eyes don't look at his. Bakugou Katsuki had never been with another woman before you. He has been so focused on his job and dream of becoming one the best heroes in the world that he never made time to even think about a partner. Never let himself feel deeper than friendship for anybody. Until you appeared in his life. Like a whirlwind that shook his entire life, twirling a fucking chaos inside his being and made him question everything he believed in and gave him new sensations he never felt before. 

He admits that he felt happy once again when you came into his life. And he will always be hugely grateful for that.

He fucking loves you for that.

However, you don't know exactly what or how he felt last night. So you don't know if he actually enjoyed it as you did.

You suddenly feel his forehead press over yours and you look up at his eyes as he says, “Not one single fucking word is enough to express how fucking perfect last night was for me. Not even the word ‘perfect’ encompasses the feeling of what it felt to be one with you… Not a word, or expression, fucking exist to describe it.”

Your eyes water at his confession, chest filled with the love Katsuki just washed you with thanks to his words.

“I love you, Bakugou Katsuki.”

You smile standing on your tiptoes, trying to reach for his lips. He's way taller than you, so you push him down with a hand on the back of his neck so you can succeed. He lets you do it. Lips finding each other, kissing sweetly and slowly. But a fire raises inside you, yearning, screaming for him. You try to deepen the kiss, your mouth opening and catching his bottom lip between yours, sucking on it lightly but clear in your intentions.

That's when he puts both of his hands on each side of your shoulders and pushes you away. A little bit and gently. But he pushes you away.

You frown. And he's frowning too, but not looking at you. 

Realization washes over you.

“You're not gonna touch me again, aren't you?”

Katsuki's eyes find yours, filled with a sadness that makes your heart hurt. He caresses your cheek with the back of his hand.

You shake your head, “That's not what I meant…”

You know what is happening. He's so afraid to touch you he doesn't even let the inside of his hand, where his Quirk is expelled from, get in contact with your skin. And that's… sad. You feel offended for him. Even when the offender is himself.

He can see the protest in your eyes, but he completely ignores you by saying, “I'll make you some breakfast, okay?”

He sounds wounded. And you know the expression on your face probably looked like that too.

Bakugou walks away towards the kitchen, leaving you there alone. Sad and hurt. But so in love with this man, it's almost unbearable.

So you decide then… you're not going to give up. You love him, and you're not going to give up on him.

a.n; am i also gonna write when Bella begs Edward to have sex? yes, i am. wait for it~😉

[moonstruckme]

heya!! i was wondering if you could write a poly!marauders x reader where r stopped smoking..? i’m 6 months clean from smoking nicotine and i haven’t told anyone (you’re the first!! lmao) just incase i break from a stressful day and so i don’t disappoint!! could you maybe write that into the drabble or whatever you do..? tysm if you do, and if you don’t then no worries!!

i love you mae and make sure to take care of yourself and keep being you!!!!

thanks for requesting gorgeous, i really hope you're doing well!! proud of you <3

cw: smoking, reader deals with addiction

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 936 words

Remus smells like cigarettes. He’s stopped smoking anywhere near you, but you’re sure if you look out the front door you’ll see the telltale smear of ash smashed into the sidewalk from where he’d stamped one out on the way in. The aroma brings longing and self-loathing, the former more potent than the latter, and you find yourself breathing in the fibers of his sweater for a whiff of it. 

Remus doesn’t catch onto the true motivation for your proximity. He takes it for cuddling, adjusting his hold on his book so he can read with one hand while the other wraps around your shoulders, encouraging you closer to his side. Underneath the heady smell of lingering smoke he smells like himself, like cinnamon and oranges, and you try to focus on that as your better sense fogs over and your fingers start itching for a cig. 

“Aha!” Sirius slaps his last card down on the table. 

James blows out a flabbergasted breath, leaning back on his hands on the floor. They’re playing some kids’ card game Remus learned in primary school and unwisely taught them. At first you’d all gotten into it, but after Sirius nearly took your head off for forgetting the rules and playing with two hands (“Sorry, gorgeous, you know I don’t mean anything I say when I’m trying to win…and I could have won, couldn’t I? No, I’m just saying, it’s about the principle—”) you and Remus had bowed out. James and Sirius have retained their obsession for days, each keeping a scoreboard in their own heads that seems to hold them in favor. 

“Angel?” 

You look up, meeting James’ knowing gaze. “Hm?” 

“He asked if you’re getting hungry for dinner,” Remus clues you in, toying with the ends of your hair. 

“Oh, sorry. Um…” You think hard. One of the more irritating things about quitting smoking is that now your appetite never seems to fully die down. You’re ready for your next meal all day long, and so you actually have to think about whether it makes sense for you to have it. “I had some carrots just after I got home, so I could eat whenever you want to.” 

“Alright…” 

You take another deep inhale, telling yourself it’s because Remus smells nice and losing your grasp on self-control all the while. 

“Are you tired?” Remus asks, and you don’t know how you didn’t notice it before, that extra bit of roughness that his voice takes on after he’s been smoking. You’re so envious you could die. “You seem distracted.” 

“I’m good,” you murmur. Though perhaps it’d be better if you did take a nap or something. You’re beginning to feel twitchy. You take in a breath through your nose like you’ve been practicing, letting it out through your mouth. 

“Ah.” Sirius scoots closer to you, laying his cheek on the couch cushion. “You want to have a piece of your gum, sweet thing?” 

You look at him guiltily. Remus makes a soft sound of realization. 

“You’re picking your nails,” Sirius explains, and you look down to see that you are. “I imagine that means you’re craving one.” 

It’s simultaneously sweet and irksome that none of your boyfriends will even say the word cigarette around you anymore. They’re trying to be considerate, you know, but it feels like they think your self-control is so tenuous that just one word could shatter it. You don’t have the heart to tell them. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, getting the pack of gum out of your pocket. Just the act of unwrapping a stick makes you feel instantly better. “I guess I was thinking I wouldn’t need it anymore.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” James says lightly. “I don’t imagine it’s easy, sweetheart, you shouldn’t feel bad about using something to cope. It’s not like having gum hurts anything.” 

You hum, then turn to Remus sheepishly. “I’m really sorry, do you think you might be able to change?” He looks confused. “Your sweater smells like cigarettes,” you explain. 

James gasps as though scandalized and Remus swears, grabbing the neckline of his sweater and tugging it off. He tosses it into the hall. 

“M’sorry, dove.” He takes your head between his hands, mushing a kiss into your hair. He’s now bare-chested, and you laugh at the dramatics, totally unexpected from him. “I didn’t realize. Is it better now?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” 

He drops another kiss on your head, remorseful. “Alright, I’ll go grab something else to wear,” he says, starting to stand. Both Sirius and James protest loudly. 

“I think what you’re wearing now looks great,” says James. 

“Yeah,” Sirius seconds, “stay in that.” 

Remus looks down at his shirtless torso, raising an eyebrow at the other boys. You can see the amusement dancing in his eyes. 

“Really?” he asks. 

“Come on, it’s not like the fucking Pope’s coming over,” Sirius says, looking well below your boyfriend’s eyes with unabashed enthusiasm. “Tell him, gorgeous.” 

Remus turns his gaze on you. You curl in on yourself slightly, shrugging your shoulders. “This is the best distraction I’ve had all day,” you say quietly, and James’ laughter booms off the walls. 

“Fair enough.” Remus rolls his eyes, grinning as he sits back down on the couch beside you. You get comfy like you were against his side, now smelling only him. He drapes his arm across your back, settling a hand on your hip. “The lows I stoop to for you, hm?” 

“If you’re not up to the task,” Sirius says, “just say the word. I’d be happy to take her off your hands.” 

“Fuck off,” Remus says, and tugs you closer.

[littelovelunette]

reader begging sevika to put a baby in them...

Shimmer And Silence G!P

Contains smut, breeding, biting, nipple play, impregnation, mentions of drug and addiction, blowjob

Sevika has always been hard headed and never gave into your desires too quickly but she never understood if it was for the best or not.

Shimmer often made her cranky and violent from time to time and being her wife, you didn't like that she made herself get high on the drug so damn often due to her loyalty and work for Silco.

It hurt, because despite wanting to settle down badly you could barely even imagine bringing the topic up to her because what if she didn't approve of your needs and had a Shimmer crashout.

Sighing to yourself, you made the bed as usual and got to doing the chores. You were used to your housewife routine by now.

You'd work at home and ensure she had a clean and cozy place to come back and rest, by the time she's done fighting for Zaun for the day.

You'd approach the topic again today and try to get her to understand that you wanted to settle down.

It had been 5 years you both were married together after all and in all honesty, whether Zaun got free or not life wouldn't pause so you both could settle and find happiness within the battles.

You finished all your work and took a shower, it was evening by then. Sevika was probably gambling after work, she'd be back soon. Maybe drunk, maybe not.

You put on one of your lacy white panties and the matching bra you bought along with it, slipping on one oversized t-shirt over the underwear, you didn't feel like wearing anything else for now.

The door opened and Sevika walked inside, “I'm home,” she called lazily, she didn't go to Last Drop which was a little strange.

Maybe she was just tired.

“Hi, baby,” you smiled and helped her take her poncho off, she walked to the bedroom after giving you a brief kiss, getting out of her clothes.

She laid down and you went over to her, sitting down beside her, “Baby, there was something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Sevika gave you a little nod to acknowledge your words and gesture that she was listening.

“I think we should start trying for kids.”

The silence sunk in the air around both of you. “Did you just say what I think you just said? Or am I mishearing things already?” Sevika asked, her tone a little condescending.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and responded, “I just feel that if we don't, y'know, I'm not getting any younger… I might not be able to even have children. We don't know what the future holds for us,” you placed one hand over her bigger one, rubbing your thumb over the calloused skin, “The battle won't pause so we can have children, please, this is the one thing I really want.”

Sevika stared at you for a while before sighing, shaking her head. “I don't think this is a good idea.”

Exasperated, you shifted so you were now on her lap, “Baby, please,” you said, cupping her face in both your hands as you sighed a little feeling her bulge against your clothed heat.

“You're a tease, y'know that?” Sevika slapped your ass, grabbing the lump of flesh and squeezing, “Fine, I'll give it some thought.”

“No, you always say that and then your mind changes,” you moved a little so her growing bulge could rub against the soaked spot on your panties.

“Just say it, you get off on the thought of me breeding you,” Sevika whispered in your ear, instantly catching you off guard. She grabbed you by your frame and shoved you down on the bed.

“Look, you even dressed up all pretty tonight,” Sevika smirked, raising the hem of the shirt to check out the underwear you had on.

“I just, I thought maybe there'd be a possibility,” you said, face growing hotter with the second.

Sevika tsked, “Bullshit, I bet you're so wet by the thought of me filling you up, filthy little whore having semen dripping from your holes because you can't even hold all of my load inside.”

Sevika's rough, thick fingers rubbed over your pussy, as if readying it for her massive cock. She pulled her pants down just enough for her cock to slap up against her stomach, precum dripping from the tip of her impressively massive shaft.

“Oh my…” you couldn't help reaching forward and grabbing her shaft carefully in your hands.

Sevika placed a hand over her hip, the mechanical arm holding you in place as you started sucking on the tip of her cock.

“Want me to suck you off?” You asked, looking up at her with those pretty puppy eyes and she nodded, guiding your head as you deepthroated her cock with years of experience.

Sevika gasped, fingers entangling themselves in your hair as you sucked her harder. You had to hold on to each side of her muscular thighs to steady yourself as you bobbed your head, the head of her cock slamming into the back of your throat every now and then making you gag and saliva messily ran down your chin giving you a further lewd expression.

Sevika, on the other hand, was having the time of her life. She used your head roughly to get herself off, shooting ropes of cum in your throat, forcing you to swallow it down.

Sevika smirked down at you as you pulled back, catching your breath from the ordeal and then she gestured to you to get on the bed. As you laid down, she undressed you, taking your shirt off, unhooking your bra and lastly pulling your panties down your legs. Sevika was being extra slow just for the sole reason of riling you up and getting you even more wet.

“Sevika, please, put a baby in me,” you began, “I need you to impregnate me, please, I need it.”

“Mhm? Do you need it?” Sevika mocked cock already aligning against your hole and going in with a single thrust.

Your eyes rolled back as she bottomed out and pulled right back out before slamming it back in, hitting that on sweet spot that back you scratch on her back and bite her shoulder.

Sevika loved it when you bit her shoulder like that, it made you wilder and she loved rough sex. Sevika started slamming her huge shaft into you, grunting from the strain of her muscles every now and then, “Gonna fill you up, gonna fill you up to the brim,” she mumbled under her breath, the headboard of the bed slammed against the wall and you were sure the neighbours would likely come down with a noise complaint.

You buried the thought down, crying as Sevika bit your nipple, pulling it with her teeth, “C-C-cumming!” You stuttered and a gush of liquid went over her length, making her eyes close in bliss but she didn't stop there.

She continued ramming into your pussy, her dick throbbing, “Gonna fill you up, take it, slut.” You gasped as you felt the warm semen fill you up, moaning loudly, legs and hands falling back onto the mattress.

You were gonna be a mother soon.

[angelbby555]

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ dance for me

Summary: you're too shy to dance in front of your boyfriend.

Word count: 1k

⋆. ୨୧˚⋆

Something about you that Bradley had noticed was you loved dancing. He had watched you dance in the kitchen, folding laundry, and while doing the chores around the house.

The way you moved your body Bradley was so addicted to. He was a month being drawn to a flame taking note of the beautiful motions of your body. The way your delicious hips moved to the beat of a song. Or your teasing hands tracing the figure of your body. Your lovely shoulders shimming from side to side. It was alluring to watch.

But you were very shy to dance in front of him. The moment he had caught you popping your hip out left to right, with so much attitude you had completely frozen up. Unlike Bradley you didn't do well in the spotlight or with people looking.

"Don't let me stop you." Bradley said with a fond smile as he leaned against the kitchen doorway. The blood traveled to your cheeks quick, and nervous laughter bubbled threw your voice.

"I've embarrassed myself enough for the day." You avoided his eyes going back to stirring the cookie batter instead of using the whisk as a microphone.

Dating didn't mean anything to you, because you still couldn't dance in before him. No matter how much Bradley had begged you to dance for him, you rejected him each time. No amount of hugs, or kiss or love could get you to budge.

"Please." You stood between Bradley legs as he smooched your lips. His arms wrapped around the curve of your spine keeping you close. Lead me on by Teena Marie had played on the Jukebox in the Hard deck and Bradley mind traveled back to catching you dancing a few days ago.

"Bradley I told you no like a million times. That answer is not gonna change." You sternly spoke but your eyes were soft and shimmering with soft, undeniable love for him. Bradley wondered when you would ever be comfortable enough to dance for him. He dragged his mustache up the side of your neck knowing that his facial hair always tickled you. Like expected you squirmed cranking your neck to then side.

"Okay." Bradley dropped the case gripping your chin between his two fingers, and pushed your head to the side to have access to kiss your jaw. He was never afraid to show you affection in public. Some times Bradley got so lost in the moment he was ready to take your clothes of in the presence of everyone. Bradley lips brushed against your chin before pulling back.

"Honey?" Bradley pulled back looking at you.

"Yes?" You replied kissing his cheek in return to show him you were listening.

"Dance for me?" He asked again for the hundredth time.

Your hands found the angles of Bradley's face letting your lips touch his. You pulled back gently smiling at him. "Shut up."

It truly bothers Bradley more than anything you didn't have confidence to dance while facing him. You told him you didn't have the strength to dance in anyone's presence to make him feel better. Which did make him feel slightly better, but still not at ease. It took time for you to come out you shell. Bradley really tried to understand that you weren't some wind up doll, that was ready to dance at any moment. However he really wished you were.

The night of Maverick's ranking ceremony to rear admiral was a very fun night. Bradley had been dancing to the slow songs with you. Moving back and forth fitting perfectly against him. With your cheek pressing to his chest.

Then an up best song came on, specifically your favorite song. Bradley pulled back his eyes widening in surprise.

"Baby this is your song!" Bradley excitedly announced. You were ready for his antics to start so instantly you were shaking your head. Most people left the dance floor once the slow songs stopped.

"Yeah that's nice let's go." You tried to peel yourself off Bradley, but he held you tight. Even if your brushed him off Bradley knew you wanted to dance. You were to busy worrying about everybody looking at you then actually having fun.

"Well I'm gonna dance so your gonna dance with me." Bradley left no further room for discussion. He did a lot more jumping around then you did. So he had to twirl you a few times to get you to move. A few times it was more like he had to hold your hand, the whole time to force you to get in the groove.

You didn't do anything too extravagant or extra. Mostly mimicking his moves to afraid to go all in.

Then next time you two were at a gathering it was at some fancy hotel. It was Bradley's flight school reunion. It was pretty boring since most of the people that were attending, still worked with him.

You both were sitting together at a round table looking around the room. Bradley saw the way you were slightly jittery in your chair like you wanted to dance. But this time around it looked like you need to let it out.

"Let me guess your too embarrassed to dance?" Bradley mused, rolling his eyes. He had stopped getting into the habit of begging you to dance. Giving up momentarily, since you were so stubborn.

"I can dance in front of you. Not in front of everybody else." The music was pretty loud that Bradley had to lean forward to hear what you were saying. But once he figured it out he let out a scoff.

"I don't want to hear this." Bradley shook his head with a smile. That's why he didn't ask, he got the same 5 replies each time. A pout settled on your adorable lips. His eyes softened instantly never able to leave you pouting. "You wanna go somewhere else then!?" Bradley screamed over the music. "Somewhere more private." His mouth is close to your ear.

You bite your bottom lip before nodding. Bradley's hands engulfed yours and excused you both from the table. You left the ballroom area of the hotel and went out into the hallway. The music could still be heard outside in the stranded halls.

"Is this good?" Bradley questions leaning in to press a kiss on the crown of your head. You hummed a response and leaned against him. A minute had passed of you wrapped around Bradley strong arms.

That's when you pulled away and forced Bradley arm up to twirl you. He smiled at the action watching your hair spin around you before you extended your free arm out.

That was the moment you had given Bradley the gift of seeing you dance. It felt very well earned to him knowing that your guard was falling undone.

You twirled, fluttered your arms like a swan, and moved with grace. Singing along to the lyrics as Bradley stared at you in complete infatuation. The song was over and you were grinning at him.

"You're the best, you know that?" Bradley couldn't hide the fondness in his voice.

"Only because I have the best man." You said back. Your hand slipped to the back of your heel, slipping them off your feet. You took the left shoe off, leaving your pretty manicured toes touching the bare carpet. "I'm about to make a fool of myself dancing, but I don't care because I want you to watch." You smiled setting your heels down by him.

After that you truly danced your heart out. Jumping around, moving your hips side to side flipping your hair, shaking your ass. Bradley had even joined you. It didn't even matter the moves, because you were both laughing and having fun.

Some people would pass by but you didn't care enough to stop and neither did Bradley. You danced till you had enough and we're left breathless and slightly sweaty. Bradley's tie undone, your hair a mess, his cheeks flushed, and the bottom of our tights dirty.

"I love you." Bradley spoke breathlessly his forehead press to yours before he kissed you.

Thank you for reading! Xoxo

[whaleofatjme1920]

Kinktober Day 8: Step Right Up! Win A Prize! [Laughing Jack X F!Reader]

Warnings: slight degradation, cum stuffing MINORS DNI

AN: look. It’s been a busy day. I started writing this while I was waiting for a movie to start at a movie theatre (I would never be on my phone while the movie is actively playing trust)

AN: I had so much more written. But then. It got. Deleted. And my inspiration went out the window. Whoops.

Kinktober Masterlist

Reblogs are appreciated!

Your eyes widen as you see the tall, lanky clown before you leer over your open legs. He’s got a smirk on his lips as he eyes your pretty cunt, his own cock dripping with precum over how you glisten for him.

“I’m so glad you decided to step up,” he coos as he presses the head of his cock against the lips of your pussy. “The carnival was rather dull before I saw you,” he muses. Laughing Jack hums softly as he slides the tip up and down, coating himself with your slick. It makes him chuckle when he sees you shiver with delight, like you can’t help but give into him.

It was your idea to go to the carnival. Your idea to spend the night looking at ‘all the pretty lights’ and getting some funnel cake because of course you happened to crave some. And it was your idea to listen to the chants and exclamations of one of the carneys in his attempt to rope you in.

His words were sweet and addictive, and he was challenging your ego.

Here you are now, laid out on your back just in order to win a stupid prize. You can hear carnival music off in the distance. You just had to let him challenge you, didn’t you?

Take x amount of creampies and win a prize!

One might be a small plastic dagger, cheap and available at any dollar store. Three would guarantee a small stuffed animal. And five would be one of the big stuffed animals! The big prizes that everyone sees but no one actually expects to get!

“C’mon, open up that pretty cunt for me,” Laughing Jack mutters to himself as he shoved himself inside of you. He revels in how you gasp and claw at anything you can get your hands on, even a little at him in an attempt to ground yourself. It’s cute, almost.

He loves how tight you are. He starts to rut instantly, not caring about how you feel or how you adjust. This is his game to play, and you agreed to his rules! His large, clawed hands move towards your breasts. He thumbs one of your nipples.

“Such a slut, getting hard over something like this,” he giggles to himself as he ruts into you harder. The sound of skin on skin reverberates around his stall. He doesn’t care who’s going to hear him, not like anyone would bother him. It’s his circus, after all.

He ruts harder and harder. Laughing Jack isn’t shy that he’s using your body for his pleasure. He can head you gasp as you take his thick cock even deeper. “Such a tight little hole,” he muses.

You finally sink your nails into his forearms. You listen to him pound into you and try to hold on. Your legs are shaking and trembling. In a vain attempt to find yourself again, you wrap and lock your legs around his waist, screaming when he presses in you harder.

“Oh fuck!” You sob as you feel his balls slap against your ass. He’s going to stuff you as much as he can, that’s for sure. You figured creampie was something kind of… adult… but you didn’t want to assume when you originally stepped up to talk to him.

Turns out that your instincts were right.

You feel your cunt gushing all over you when he slams you into the ground. Your eyes squeezed shut as he fills you with hot, sticky cream. It makes soft little squelching noises from the sheer amount, liquid strings connecting the two of you from where your bodies are intertwined.

“Little cum slut!” He gleefully teases you as he sees your pussy flutter and beg for more. You’re already bursting with his load. He wonders how much more you can take. Laughing Jack manages to forcefully detach your legs from his waist before he folds you like a lawn chair. “Mmm, perfect position for cum sluts, wouldn’t you agree?” He asks rhetorically.

“Wait what—?” You reply in a half daze as you feel your legs rest on his broad, tall shoulders. He curls you more, your body his plaything as he bends you how he pleases. Laughing Jack giggles to himself as he shoves himself inside of you once more.

He hums softly as he pushes the back of your thighs with his hands. “Take it, you slut,” he coos sweetly to you. “Take it. Don’t you want a bigger prize?” He teases.

You feel your eyes rolling up from the pleasure. His cock is so big, girthy in a perfect way, oddly striped in black and white but he’s got wins and his thickness is delicious. So, you look up at him through your haze and nod. “Y-Yeah, I can take more,” you cutely answer him. Your head isn’t all there but that’s okay; Laughing Jack knows your true intentions.

He hilts deep inside of you and groans as his cum fills you once more, almost bursting you with how much of himself he’s stuffing into your overworked pussy. “Atta girl,” he grins, “you wanted the big prize? Keep taking it like the little whore you are and you’ll get it.”

[mythicmanuscripts]

can you please write some nsfw subby crying emotional Aemond who’s obsessed with his wife and finally feeling loved?

Of course I can!! That’s my favourite Aemond!

While there is definitely sub!Aemond in this answer there isnt any more than implied NSFW undertones so I haven't added a cut. Hope you lads enjoy!!

So firstly it takes a very long for reach this point. Aemond is so so used to people mistreating him and lying to him and making him feel worthless. When he first marries you he assumes you will be the same. He doesn’t even have it left in him to hope for something better.

For months he was just stiff and formal with you, and in fact he never even consummated the marriage. He was too afraid of the intimacy of the act, of laying himself bare before someone

You have to earn his trust, and you earn it by always supporting him. He’s never alone in his convictions anymore, and he’s never alone during the cold evenings either. You keep him company, but you also listen and give advice and are proactive in your support for him.

Once he starts to lean on you, it snowballs from there very quickly. Aemond tries to slow down or stop it, but it’s like he’s addicted? He can’t go a day without seeing you, and eventually that evolves into him not being able to go a day not hugging you, then not kissing you, and so it progresses.

I think what really gets him is that you never ever turn him away? It doesn’t matter what you’re doing, if he comes to you then you will always let him in. Even if you’re in the middle of something, you’ll still give him a smile and tell him to come sit with you.

It’s that love and care he that he sees in your eyes every single time he comes to you that leaves him chasing after you, begging for the smallest scrap of attention. And the most important part is that you NEVER turn him away. He always has a safe space with you.

And well, when you think about it like that, of course he’s emotional and obsessed with you!! You’re like a walking safe space for him. If aemond had it his way you would never be out of his sight. Yes he’s the submissive, but he’s also very very possessive about his dom. he knows how insanely lucky he got and he will not allows others to take too much of your attention.

Honestly I think Aemond would almost always want you at his side once he realises that you actually love him? The complete 180 he goes through from only speaking to you when it was absolutely necessary and only being spotted with you at public events to pretty much never being without you will forever confuse pretty much the entire of the red keep.

It's like one day Aemond wakes up and decides that the two of you will now be a team and then you are simply never spotted apart. And I don't just mean Aemond taking you everywhere he needs to go, whenever you have somewhere to be then he's always going to come with as well. It really doesn't matter what you're doing or why, he just always comes with.

I actually think maybe once a week you two will just sit together and discuss your schedules and where you are both expected to be so that you can work out how to attend everything together? When he's prince regent he has absolutely no problem with moving small council meetings to ensure he can go somewhere with you and that you will then be free for the new time of the small council meeting.

So when someone asks about needy, emotional crying sub!aemond, the honest answer is that he’s in some form of that state most of the time.

It’s most prominent when you two are alone.

Aemond really just melts under your attention. The moment he knows he’s got your full attention his brain just shuts off? It’s by far his favourite time of the day.

He always starts calm and collected but within a few minutes he’s already getting worked up and a little squirmy. You wait for him to ask if you can play with him, and the moment he asked you flip the two of him over and then he's pretty much instantly all emotional and pliant for you.

It takes a long time for him to actually admit he wants something from you, but you get very good at reading his body language. He's so so happy about the fact that he knows if he just shows you how he's feeling then you will help him and look after him.

He really just loves how at ease you make him feel? He knows the moment he walks into your shared quarters he can relax and finally just be taken care of him.

I actually think maybe you two will have very strict rules about who can and can't come into your quarters? Most of the nobles don't even think about the servants and just let the servants do their various jobs, but it's very different with you and Aemond. You understand that for Aemond your bedroom is his safe space, and so you make sure he never feels like his safe space has been violated.

Servants have to ask you when they can change the sheets in your quarters, you do not allow them to just come in and do it whenever like the rest of the keep does. You also don't any servants assigned to specifically just help you do things like drawing baths and brushing your hair and whatnot. If for whatever reason you do want someone to do those things then you will call someone, but you never have a servant constantly waiting in your quarters.

It takes Aemond a while to notice this change actually, and when he brings it up and finds out why, he pretty much immediately just melts and you have to pull him into a tight hug.

So yeah, clingy, emotional sub!aemond who loves his wife very very much is pretty much his constant state and he's so so thankful.

[nackrosor]

~ Childhood Sweethearts ~

[Part 1/?]

Leon S. Kennedy x bestie!Reader

PART 2 ✨

warnings/tags: friends to lovers, slow burn, pining, eventual romance, eventual smut, depressed/drunk/sick Leon, angst with hurt/comfort, drunken confessions (kinda)

series synopsis: You and Leon have been friends since you can remember. You've always been there for him, especially through the bad times. He's in a bad place again and he needs you. You're the only light in his pretty dark life.

word count: 2,3k.

It was storming outside, and you could hear the violent tapping of the rain on your window, as well as the rumbling sound of the thunders, making you flinch and tighten your grip on the blanket draped over your shoulders. The noises from outside were making it difficult for you to concentrate on the show playing on the TV, and you found yourself turning to look at the black sky repeatedly, anticipating the jump each time you saw the white light pierce the dark.

You were yet again staring at the gloomy night sky when, instead of a rumble, you heard a knock on your front door, which startled you considerably more. You warily walked to your entrance, wondering who could possibly be wandering outside in such bad weather, not to mention looking for you so late at night.

When you opened the door, Leon was standing there, soaking wet and looking absolutely rattled. He staggered inside without saying anything and almost bumped into you in the process. He had clearly been drinking, judging by the way he dragged his feet and the reddish tone of his cheeks. You'd seen him in such a state before... but there was something different this time. Something in his expression that deeply concerned you.

"Leon?" you inquired with alarm, your wide eyes tracking his movements. You shut the door behind you while never taking your eyes off of him. He was visibly fighting to stand up straight, and you were ready to step in and help him if his legs gave out under him but somehow he managed to take a few unsteady steps forward and lean against the nearest wall.

"I'm sorry..." he murmured, hanging his head. His eyes darted restlessly around your flat, pointedly avoiding yours as if he was ashamed of his state. He attempted to undo his jacket but his fingers kept missing the zipper and so you jumped in to lend him a hand. Your eyes raised to meet his, an apprehensive look on your face.

"Leon, what happened?" You asked carefully although failing to hide the worry in your voice.

It took him some time to respond, as if he was trying to catch the words that kept on escaping him.

"I'm not feeling well..." he finally admitted once you had removed his jacket. From so close, you could smell the alcohol on him but also see the bags under his eyes which made him look as if he hadn't slept in days.

He raised his shaking hand to push back his wet hair, and your frown deepened as you realised he was not only drenched in rain but also covered in sweat.

You so desperately wanted to know what had happened, what had triggered him to relapse into his toxic addiction. But it was clear that he had no strength left to stay conscious, let alone answer your questioning. You had to wait until he felt better.

"Do you need to puke?" you pressed him, feeling your concern grow by the second.

Leon nodded with some effort.

"I... I don't feel well..." he mumbled again, straining to keep his eyes open.

He reached out towards his hair again, as if to do something with it, but instead only ended up scratching at his scalp. You instantly took hold of his hands and squeezed them gently in yours to draw his attention.

"Come... Let's go to the bathroom," you whispered, trying to keep your voice low and gentle as if you were speaking to a wounded animal. Carefully, you tugged on his hands and walked him across your apartment, your gaze flitting from the room ahead and back to him at every step to ensure he didn't trip on his own feet.

Leon leaned into you the entire time, and once you got to the bathroom, he barely managed to voice a trembling 'I'm sorry' before he bent over the sink and started to retch.

Your hand immediately found his back to support him, while the other wiped his damp strands of hair out of his face.

You were so worried for him, so much so that you didn't even realise that you were shaking from anxiety; seeing him in such a miserable state was breaking your heart.

"It's okay... It's okay," you cooed softly, attempting to soothe him and at the same time to calm yourself down as he gagged violently and puked his entire being into the sink.

When the retching stopped, he glanced up at you, his eyes glazed over with what looked like humiliation and exhaustion. He extended his hand, attempting to take hold of your arm for support.

You let him lean against you once again while hurriedly dabbing his mouth with a towel. You could see how pale he was and how his body trembled, and the sight alarmed you. Placing your palm on his forehead you gasped at how warm his skin was at the touch. He needed some medicine and to get out of his wet clothes as quickly as possible.

"Stay here. You hear me? I'll be back in a second." You said firmly yet maintained your tone of voice low, afraid of hurting him. You carefully guided him to sit on the toilet lid, then gave him an apprehensive look before rushing out of the bathroom.

Leon sat there, shivering. He slumped against the wall, closing his eyes, attempting to cope with the dizziness and the nausea and the ache in his feverish body.

When you returned to the bathroom with everything you needed to help him, you caught him clutching the air as if reaching for something that wasn't there. With a tug at your heart you grasped his hand in yours, your eyes searching his face to ensure he was conscious.

"Hey, hey... Look at me. Look at me."

Leon made an effort to meet your gaze. He looked at you with glazed-over eyes and he appeared to be both confused and overly aware of what was going on at the same time.

"I..." he spoke quietly. "I can't..." a rough cough interrupted him and he glanced down. "I'm sorry..."

"Stop apologising, Leon..." you chastised him in a soft but desperate tone, reaching out to delicately caress his moist forehead. "I'll take care of you, you got that?"

You swiftly took a glass of water and added the pill into it, making sure it dissolved before crouching in front of Leon and bringing the glass to his lips.

"Drink this, you'll feel better soon."

Leon seemed hesitant at first; he glanced at the glass of water, then back at you before slowly taking a sip. He grimaced through it, but you held the glass in place for him until he swallowed the last drop.

You watched as he tiredly leaned his head back against the wall and stared at you in silence for a moment. His glassy blue eyes transfixed on you were tugging at your heart strings and when he weakly reached out a hand to cup your face, you felt even more for him. You leaned into his timid touch, with a faint smile on your lips. You were trying so hard not to give in to your anxiety and burst into tears. You couldn't. Your dear friend needed you. You had to be strong for him.

"Let's get you out of those drenched clothes, okay?" You softly interrupted the silence, rising up and proceeding to roll the hem of his soaked t-shirt up his abdomen.

You were so focused on aiding and taking care of him that no distraction could slow you down, not even the sight of your closest friend's half-naked body, whom you had been crushing on for as long as you could remember. It was not the time to allow your thoughts - nor your eyes - to roam or linger. You also tried not to meet his drowsy gaze, which he kept locked on you the entire time you undressed and clothed him in the most baggy-fitting clothes you could find in your wardrobe.

"I'm sorry," he whispered one more time while you adjusted the sweatpants on his hips. "I messed up again..."

You could see his lips quiver as he attempted to form words, though he seemed too weak to speak. He reached out and took hold of your hand. He looked like he wanted to add something, but you interjected to softly 'hush' him before he could apologise again.

Cautiously, you tugged at his arms to get him to stand up. "Do you think you can walk to my bedroom? You remember my bedroom, yeah? It's right beside the bathroom. You can do it?" you asked him, searching his eyes as you continued to support his body.

"I... I think so..."

He followed you to the other room while still holding onto your hand.

You huffed in distress as you struggled to keep his body up, almost dragging him through the hallway, but eventually making it to your bed.

"Lie down..." you whispered, holding on to him as you guided him onto the mattress.

As he lay there, he looked so drained. His face was as white as a sheet, his breathing laboured, his eyes barely open and out of focus, yet keenly fixed on you. You could see his lips quiver as if he meant to say something, but his voice kept failing him; all that came out of his mouth were indecipherable murmurings.

"What is it? What do you need?"

You saw him reach for your hand, his fingers weakly intertwined with yours. Your stomach fluttered at the contact.

"Stay" was all he could muster up to whisper in a faint rasp of voice.

A sweet smile appeared on your lips. You knelt alongside the bed, right next to him, and gently grasped his hand with both of yours.

"Of course, Leon. I'm gonna watch over you while you rest." you reassured him. "Don't you worry..."

Placing one of your hands on his face, you softly brushed his hair off his forehead. How you wished you could do more to help him, to do anything, just so he could be serene and live the peaceful life he so much deserved, to never go through this kind of pain ever again. But other than watching over him and waiting for his fever to pass, there was nothing else you could do for him at the moment. Hopefully in the morning he would feel better and open up to you. Only then maybe you could find a way to fix this, whatever this was. You had the feeling this time it was more than just the same old issues. Something else must have been tormenting him.

Leon sighed and turned his head, burying his face in your palm. A faint, worn smile crept up the corners of his mouth as he met your gaze yet again. You always did get lost in his blue eyes, so deep and beautiful and yet looking so troubled more times than not.

His lips moved silently, and you bent forward to catch what he had to say. Your gaze moved anxiously across his face, lingering on his lips.

"Hmm?"

You waited patiently as he wet his dry lips. His eyelids eventually fluttered closed, too tired to focus on anything any longer.

"...I love you."

Your heart leapt at his ushered words, and your mind turned to mush for a few moments. Was it a confession? No. No… you needed to shake yourself out of it before you began overthinking it. You could not interpret his words in any other way other than platonic; you wouldn't dare. After all, your friend was clearly incapable of speaking lucidly about anything in his current situation. You couldn’t take the word of an intoxicated and feverish Leon for true. No, he definitely meant it platonically, no matter how you wished for it to sound. But it did feel… odd to hear those words leave his mouth; you had never expressed your affection for each other in such a direct way throughout your 20+ year friendship.

"I… I love you too." You blurted back a few breaths later, but he did not reply. You felt his grip gradually lessen and his hand slip free from yours. His breathing had become steadier. It seemed he had finally fallen asleep.

You exhaled a long, deep breath you hadn't realised you had been holding and then ran your hand over your face, suddenly feeling the anxiety and fatigue get to you. A few nervous tears spilled from your eyes, but you quickly wiped them away. Your gaze moved to his face yet again; you were still worrying about him, but seeing him rest so peacefully after all he had gone through made you feel a little better. He looked so different while sleeping. Despite the fever, he appeared much younger, healthier, serene...

Once you made sure he had fallen into a deep sleep, you left the room to go pour yourself a coffee. You had a long night ahead of you and needed to be vigilant. You would continue to monitor his fever to ensure that it did not rise again, so he could sleep properly until the morning. You also prayed the nightmares kept him alone, at least this time. He was already in such a horrible state that he didn't need his sleep disrupted by the terrible memories from his past, the same ones that had kept him awake more times than you’d like to admit. He had told you all about those restless nights and you had tried to console him as best as you could but the memories just kept on coming back and mess up with his fragile mind… Oh, how you wished you could just make them disappear, somehow. You would do anything for him, even take his burden yourself, if only that was possible.

Sipping your coffee, you returned to your bedroom and took a seat in the armchair close to the bed. Your attentive gaze landed on his sleeping body once again. The sight caused your chest to tighten. His delirious revelation made its way back to your head and you let out a sigh, your fingers curling closer around the warm mug in your palms.

"Sleep tight, my love."

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[muffinpink02]

i take your suggestions and raise you...

the first time you're sleeping with alexia, right? it's been a month or two since you started dating and somehow that line has never been crossed. after training one time, she's dressed still in her kit with those tiny black shorts that somehow make her ass look better than it already is, you cant resist. and luckily she's thinking the same about you too.

you dance around each other, recognizing the look in each other's eyes but still having those first time nerves. until, after some teasing back and forth, you push her to sit on the sofa and straddle her thighs, gaze getting caught on how her shorts had ridden up the muscle there in the process. but before you could do a thing about that, her hand is gripping the back of your neck and pulling you down for a kiss, where she instantly slips her tongue in after nipping your bottom lip, and you can't help but whimper at it. it goes on and on, hands gliding all over each other, hers travelling from your thighs to your hips to your ass and back again, yours tugging at the baby hairs on her neck to pull out those addictive groans from her.

after a little while, her hands gently push against your shoulders, breaking the kiss, she's all breathless and lips kissed red and a little wet, and you whine at the fact she broke it off. so you grab her jaw and tilt her head to one side, attaching your mouth to that vein on her neck. she groans and chastises you under her breath and her grip on the back of your neck is tighter than ever as she reluctanly pulls you away again. "what do you like? what do you want? tell me what you want us to do." she asks.

"you can do anything you want to me." you tell her with a smirk, her staring at you frozen for a second before she pulls you tight to her and stands, her hands shamelessly placed on your ass cheeks and her fingertips digging in so much there'll probably be bruises that'll have you blushing the next morning. she gets to the bedroom and carefully lays you down before knocking your legs apart with her knee and slotting herself inbetween them immediately.

rather than kissing you like you wanted, she just gazes down at you, her hands beside your head and her lips millimeters from yours before she chuckles softly, menacingly, like she's an animal looking at its next meal. her mouth bypasses yours and heads straight for your neck, one of her hands sliding under the hem of your shirt and drifting upwards.

now, for the sake of not making this too long, you can fill in the gaps, but...

before you know it, she's sat back against the headboard, you in her lap in much the same way as earlier on the sofa. this time, however, her legs are slightly spread on purpose, so that when your thighs are on the outside of hers, she's got you wide open for her to play with. she's already made you cum once with her mouth, and you've had her too, but since then she's pushed you to the edge but never over. the first time she edged you, you were more than compliant. the second time too. but the third, as one of her hands switched between each of your tits and the fingers of the other pressed in and out of your cunt, she had told you to rub your own clit. when you told her you were near the edge, just as she had demanded you do, she stopped. but your hand didn't. she grabbed it instead and slotted your wet fingers into your mouth as she sucked her own slick digits to get a taste of you. the look in her eyes had your own rolling back, whimpers leaving your hoarse throat but muffled by her thick fingers.

but now, as you grow closer to coming for the fourth time in a row, your hands restless and moving from place to place on her body, she speeds up. her thumb is incessantly rubbing tight circles on your clit as three fingers of the same hand thrust in and out, her forearm and bicep muscles all flexing addictively, you can hardly tear your eyes away. the only thing that can make you is her telling you to look into her eyes as you cum. your heart drops when she slows down again, you'd do anything to cum at this point, so you look at her and drop your forehead against hers, desperate breathy pleas leaving your mouth every second without realising. all she does is laugh, teasingly, mockingly, smug and cocky with how she's turned you into mush in only the first time together. it's then, as she speeds up again, her fingers pressing deeper and deeper, that you notice the tightness in your stomach doesn't feel like it does normally. you tell her, she smirks. the feeling is overwhelming, and you drop your head to her shoulder, forgetting her earlier demand but she doesn't mind, because by the throbbing of your pussy and the wet sounds coming from it, she knows she's about to get what she set out for. her other hand that's not fucking you halfway to hell moves from its tight grip on your thigh and creeps up your back, her mouth moving to your ear and whispering the most filthy words you'd ever heard as her hand lands on the back of your head, tugging at your hair and relishing in the loud moan you respond with. she does it again, and again, and again, feeling your cunt grow impossibly wetter and tight, your moans turning into quiet, desperate cries and whimpers, until you grow silent. she carries on with her ministrations, the only sounds her panting from her work and the wet slide of her fingers and her occasional dirty comments. how wet you are, how good you sound for her, how tight your pussy is and how good you're being for her.

then, the coil snaps inside of you. you bite down on her shoulder but not even that stops the high-pitched, breathless moan you let out that seems to never end. alexia groans too, loud and animalistic in your ear which somehow prolongs your intense orgasm. it never ends; alexia's arm, the sheets under you both, gets soaked as you cum harder than you had ever before. it's a feeling that has euphoria coursing through your veins as it carries on, alexia's fingers pruning at this point from the sheer amount of it. her eyes are wide as she feels it, but then she looks down, her fingers still sliding in and out of you but slower now, her thumb on your clit carrying you through it, and she doesn't think she'll ever not think about this moment for the rest of her life.

your hand comes down and grasps at her wrist, willing her to stop, too sensitive to enjoy it now, and she pulls out with care, her dry hand moving to hold you close against her, the other quickly moving to dry against the more than ruined sheets as all she wants to do is take care of you now, to check up on you. she asks if you're okay, having not moved a muscle other than the up and down of your chest, completely and thoroughly wrecked. all you can do is wrap your arms around her and nod, the up and down movement of her fingertips on your back grounding you. fin.

look, all im saying is, the perfect payment for this is for you to take the whole thing and turn it into your own fic😤 that is a joke of course! but if you want to though, you're absolutely more than free too. hope it lived up to your expectations🫡 much love muffin im more than happy to help you out, in awe of your work and you as a human being overall, forehead smooches🫂

OMGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!! You got my feet kicking!!! This is so fucking hot 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

I love that her neck vein made an appearance 🫠🫠🫠🫠 erghhhhhh. This was perfect!!! I can’t believe you wrote this so quickly and so beautifully! I fucking love it!! this has just made my day/week and month!

Turn it into my own fic? Babes, this is its own fic!! It’s got everything 🤤 and hair pulling you’re an absolute queen! Thank you for writing this! I feel privileged to have this written for me and I genuinely love it!! ❤️ 🥹 stopppp ittttt, you’ve got me blushing. Your the cutest human and I appreciate all your kindness you’ve sent my way, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart 🫂

[melobin]

behind the screen 𐙚 sungchan smau. #6

✧ camgirl reader x roommate sungchan

✧ synopsis. in which sungchan discovers his favorite camgirl also happens to be his roommate

✧ wc. 2.2k

✧ chapter warnings. written chapter. smut, female and male masturbation, live streaming masturbation, use of sex toy (dildo), overstimulation, sungchan is a perv wreck.

✧ a/n. i tried something a little different !! this chapter is half writing in third person for plot reasons as sungchan doesn’t know merci’s identity !!

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“hello!” your voice was soft as it rang out around your bedroom, the mic you had set up next to your laptop picking up your tone “i’ve missed you all so much” flattery, it always makes them feel important. you watched as the viewer count of the stream slowly rose, more people joining as you settled on your bed, your mask already covering your face.

you sat on your knees, your leverage popped out of your chest because of the tight bra you had picked and your panties were basically not existent, your viewers knew they were in for a treat tonight. one viewer in particular, sungchan, was already losing his mind.

he moved so quickly when he checked the time and saw merci were about to start streaming, instantly closing whatever game he had open on his pc and typing up her web address immediately. sungchan hated missing merci’s streams, everything about her was so perfect that sungchan wanted to savour every second he got looking at merci.

if only he knew merci was only a wall away from him, how she was actually you, his sweet, innocent roommate who never seemed to bother him during this time. any other night you’d be in and out of eachothers room, talking about your day, eating together, yet tuesdays seemed to be explicitly off limits for both of you, an unspoken agreement formed as neither of you asked the other why you were so busy.

sungchan struggled to say no to any of your wishes, so he was grateful that your schedules somehow collided and you always left each other be during merci’s streams. despite the inner war he would have with himself if you needed something from him during one of her streams, he’d stop watching in order to help you.

a giggle brought sungchan back to earth as he admired the sight of merci, his cock already straining in his sweats, his shirt being pulled over his head due to the heat he was already feeling. his headphones sat on his head, he always had them on and turned onto the max volume, never wanting to miss a single sound that left her sweet lips. sure, sungchan didn’t know what she looked like but he knew she was gorgeous, there was no way she wasn’t.

“i don’t want to tease too much tonight, i’ve been stressed at work and” merci let her fingers trail down her stomach, the tips of them brushing over her covered clit, she gasped softly “i need a release so bad”

sungchan felt his cock throb at the sight of her playing with the thin material of her panties, it only took him a few seconds before he caved and pushed his sweatpants down slightly, his cock already leaking slightly as the cool air hit it. he was embarrassed at how easily worked up he got when it came to merci, his cock throbbed in his hand just at the thought of having her near him.

he loved merci’s streams, he always came before she did so he always ended up overstimulating himself, not being able to stop himself from fucking his hand as he watched her. she were like a drug to him, an addiction that he couldn’t shift and he didn’t even know her. sungchan was pretty sure he was insane because of that.

sungchans hand held the base of his cock as he watched her, merci’s fingers gently pushed aside her panties and he had to stop himself from groaning just at the sight of her glistening cunt. his mouth watered, his hand began to move on his cock slowly. his lack of self control almost astounded him.

on the other side of the wall you sat there, your legs spread in front of your laptop and your fingers pushing into your sickened slit. you loved nights like this, nights where your need took over and you let your desperation take control. you knew your viewers would love it too, the donation number already increasing rapidly. yet you knew where the majority of that money was coming from.

“i’ve taken a toy out tonight” you reached for the clear dildo that was next to you, fingers lightly toying with your clit as you showed it to the camera “i wanted to really enjoy myself tonight, i think i deserve it, don’t you?” a whine fell from you as you spoke, your fingers moving with ease against your slick clit.

sungchan wanted to scream at his computer that merci deserved to feel good and even more, he wanted to give her the world one orgasm at a time. lord if eunseok could hear his thoughts he’d never hear the end of it. instead of screaming he done something he hadn’t done before, he let go of his cock so he could type in the chat, all whilst making a mental note to clean his keyboard later.

he knew the stream chat was always on slow mode, merci liked seeing what people had to say to her instead of it being just a spam that went by too quickly. sungchan knew she’d probably see his comment, he hoped deep down she’d recognise his name and remember who he was, even if he was going to be known as the loser from twitter to her.

channie: you do.

his eyes scanned the other comments that sandwiched his.

hani: i’d give you everything and more.

sungchan wanted to reply to him and tell him to fuck off and get his own line before realising he had only said that in his head. his eyes flicked from the chat to merci, the dildo she had in her hand was now being pressed against her clit as she spoke.

“you’re all so sweet” her voice echoed through sungchan’s headphones, a sultry tone filled his ears “turns me on even more” she sighed at the end of her words, the dildo in her hand being dragged down her slit before she left the tip pressing against her entrance. sungchan’s mouth watered as he watched her, his hand dragging along his slick cock as his precum smeared itself over it. he waited in suspense for her to push the toy inside of herself, waited impatiently to hear the broken moan she always lets out when she issues something like that. it was a moan that ruined sungchan inside and out, he knew his cock could make her moan louder, the toy on her hand barely compared to the size of his cock.

sungchan almost jumped when he heard a whimper fall from merci, his hand squeezed his cock as he watched her cunt swallow the toy whole and heard her moan as she took it. the scene was beautiful, she had a hand behind her pressed against the bed holding her weight up, her legs spread and her other hand dragging the toy in and out of herself. sure, maybe some of her moans were slightly over dramatic but that didn’t matter to sungchan, she still sounded like an angel reincarnated.

he would’ve given anything to be with her in that moment, thrusting her toy in and out of her teasingly, making sure every ridge of it pressed against her tight walls. sungchan never was one to beg but he would’ve begged for her to sit on his face just so he could get a taste of what she was made of.

the sight of her made him weak, the way the toy seemed to slide in and out of her with ease, nothing blocked it as her slick cunt swallowed it with each thrust forward, her speed increasing over time due to her neediness. squelching could be heard from her as she moaned. sungchan knew the chat would be going crazy over her, of course they would be, he wished he could be too but he didn’t have the self control to take his hand off of his cock, the pleasure from him jerking off made him dizzy as he watched her. sungchan just knows he could fuck her so well.

sungchan groaned as he watched he withdraw the toy from her cunt, the slick that coated it glistened under the light of her room. he found himself invested, cock throbbing in his hand as he watched her. despite not seeing her face, he could see the way she dragged her finger along the side of the toy and put it in her mouth, she whimpered as she did and sungchan was sure in that moment he had never felt so jealous in his life. he knew she tasted sweet, something along the lines of strawberries mixed with soemthing utterly sinful.

“tastes so sweet” she whimpered and sungchan almost came at the sound, he wanted her bad. he wanted to stop jerking off whilst she had stopped, but he physically couldn’t, just watching her body shake and her pussy glisten made him desperate to cum. it was only a matter of seconds before he was spilling all over his hand, biting his lip as he felt his cum leak down his abs. it didn’t stop him though, his hand still worked his cock as he watched her.

he focused as she picked up something from beside her, placing it flat on the bed before she stuck the suctioned part of the dildo onto the reflective surface and turned around. his cock felt sore in his hand as he continued to pump it, his whole body twitching as he watched so easily she sank down onto the toy before she leaned forward, her ass was on display as he pussy began to swallow the toy again, she moved so well on it, it was all so disgustingly arousing. he was sure he could see the way she gripped the toy with her cunt, the tight squeeze the toy must have been feeling made him squeeze his cock in order to try and replicate the feeling, he groaned when he realised it wouldn’t feel even half as good as she would.

he watched as he bent herself forward, he could barely see the way she gripped the sheets and whined into them, her hips not moving as he bounced herself onto her toy. it all got overwhelming for sungchan the moment she reached back to part the lips of her pussy and hold her underwear further to the side, giving the camera a clear view of just how easily she took the toy. sungchan was sure he was going to cum again, the overstimulation he was giving himself had his toes curling and his body squirming slightly, it took everything in him to not whimper and alarm you who he assumed was just laying in bed in the next room to him.

he thought about how embarrassing it would be to have you catch him jerking off messily to some camgirl he found online, he also thought about what would happen if you liked her too, maybe you also secretly watched her and touched yourself to her streams, he was quick to shake the thought out of his head, cum beginning to spill over his hand once again as he focused back on merci. her hands dropped from her skin and instead her fingers reached under her so she could rub at her clit, she was getting close and sungchan was glad. he needed to watch her cum but he wasn’t sure how many more orgasms he could get out of himself, two was far from his limit but his body felt weak, drained, he felt dirty as his cum stained his abs but he loved it.

“i’m so close” he heard her whine, fingers not stopping on her clit as she fucked herself onto her toy, her mattress creaked lightly under her and for a moment he wondered if her roommate knew about what she done, were they okay with it? were they a man? did they secretly watch her? did they even know? all of the questions were cleared from his head when he squeezed his cock, his cum barely seeping out of the tip as he watched her cum around her toy. her thighs shook, fingers of her free hand dug into her bed sheets, toy having white forming on it as her cum coated it. he wasn’t sure how fucked up he was over merci but he would’ve happily taken the toy into his mouth just to suck her cum off of it.

sungchan sighed as his hand released his sore cock, it fell against his wet stomach as he leaned back in his chair. merci lifted herself from her toy with a whimper before she turned around, her demeanour softer and weaker than before as he began to say her goodbyes to the camera, giggling and thanking everyone for joining before turning off her steam.

sungchan laid his headphones on his desk as he took time to recover, only being brought out of his trance when his phone dinged. when he checked it he saw it was a message from you. he panicked slightly, seeing you ask him if he wanted to join you to watch a movie. he promised he would, telling you he had to shower quickly and then he’d be in only for you to tell him you had to as well. it was just antoher tuesday night where sungchan was glad you never asked any questions.

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[inkdrinkerworld]

dick literally spends every single penny on you it's CONCERNING, like every date he's dropping 2k in dinner, and you're like huh??? when he gets you gifts for no reason, would be VERY suspicious to me, cus i would instantly think that he's done something wrong and be all dramatic like "did someone die?? did you cheat on me?" and he literally just saw your favourite chocolate and flowers at the store and wanted to get you them..

“Gorgeous, where are you?” You’re in the bedroom, hair dripping as you step out of the shower- you shout back such to your boyfriend.

“I got you something nice.” Dick sing songs as he watches you reach for your blow dryer.

“Dick,” you say as you put it down and stare at him. Your boyfriend has a little problem- he has a shopping addiction but never for things for himself.

Sure he buys himself nice things but it seems like his brain derives the most pleasure and dopamine from getting things for you.

The first time he’d come home with something for you, you panicked. You remember asking him if someone died and he’d laughed so hard he’d started crying.

“No baby, that’s depressing by the way. I got you this just because.” He’d said as he pushed a box in your hands and you opened it to find a pretty bracelet with little bells on it.

Now, almost weekly- it would be daily if Dick had his way- he brings something for you.

“Before you get worried. No one died, I didn’t break your favourite mug or eat your chocolates this time.”

You gasp, “This time?”

Dick’s eyes widen, “Let’s not focus on that, here you go, baby.”

The bag crinkles in your hand as you take it, your eyes on Dick the entire time. “It’s not a bomb, open it.”

When you do you smile. Sitting in the bag is a pair of pyjamas that you’d been eyeing for a little bit- a blue and white striped set.

“Dick that’s really sweet of you.”

He shrugs, all smiles. “That’s why they call me honey, honey.”

You blow a raspberry at the joke. “Grayson,” you mumble as you pull out the pyjamas and find two bars of your favourite chocolates and a little box. “I should’ve known it wasn’t just one thing.” He sits on the bed, leaning back on his palm.

He nods, “You really should, I just like getting you things, gorgeous.”

When you open the box you find silver, wing shaped, bedazzled hair clips.

“I don’t know where you get half these things from.” Dick smiles as you walk over to him. The tips of your hair drip onto his shoulder as you kiss him.

“Oh you know, people just like doing things for about five hundred bucks a piece.”

You pull away from him and frown. “You didn’t spend one thousand dollars on hair clips Dick.”

His cheeks go a little pink, “What? No. I said about, gorgeous.” He kisses you again and then pulls away.

“We’ve got a brunch reservation for tomorrow too, at that place you liked last time. Let me do your hair and you can put on your new pyjamas yeah?” He strokes the apples of your cheeks and under your jaw to the point where you’re a little hypnotized.

“Put the honey hair oil in before your flat iron it okay?” Dick nods.

“I know how to do it right, sweetheart. I am a professional.”

“Professional what, Grayson? Money spender?”

He tuts, a smile playing on his lips. “Ha ha, no I’m a professional at taking care of you. Now sit your cute butt down so I can start.”

[hottiesforhockey]

look at me ⎜d.mercer

pairings: dawson mercer x afab!reader genre: smut ⎜established relationship ⎜ warnings: katoptronophilia (this is a new word for me) ⎜pwp ⎜insecure reader ⎜ masturbation ⎜ praise kink ⎜descriptions of anxiety ⎜ synopsis: your first night at a devils home game leaves you feeling a little insecure - dawson knows just the kind of exposure therapy you need. word count: 4k authors note:  this was requested by @devilsandrangersfan so I hope they enjoy!

(unedited)

The moment you step into the Prudential Center, the roar of the crowd vibrates through your chest, rattling your ribs. The energy is electric—fans clad in red and black, jerseys sporting bold names and numbers, the crisp scent of ice lingering beneath the stadium lights.

“So is this your first time at a game?”  

“Excuse me?” You gaze shifts over to the petite brunette sliding into the chair besides you - Dawson had shown you to the family box just before warm ups started, placing the “family and friends” lanyard over your neck before leaving you with a soft kiss on the cheek. 

“I’ll meet you back here.” He said softly, knowing that you had no idea how to get around the arena without inevitably getting lost in the crowd somewhere, you had just nodded still unsure what to say as you took in the lavish lounge, a spread of food on the tables off to the side, a bar on the back wall and obscenely large viewing chairs with the perfect view of the ice. 

You and Dawson has only started dating a few months ago — well officially dating, your friendship having built up for years over high school but never seeming to actually go anywhere until he came home last summer — you turn back to the woman with a surprised look that she was still waiting for your answer. 

“Oh, ah yeah” you start, catching yourself quickly before adding, “I mean I’ve been to his games before just not here in jersey.” You explain, again taken by surprise by the roaring crowd as the teams zoom onto the ice the large ’91’ catching your attention instantly. 

The brunette smiles knowingly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she leans back in her seat.

"It's different here, isn't it? The energy, the fans—Jersey loves their hockey. And they love Dawson." You nod absently, your gaze fixed on the ice where Dawson glides effortlessly, weaving through his teammates during warm-ups. He looks so at home here, so confident. It’s not that you doubt your place in his life, but something about tonight, about being surrounded by people who have watched him play for years, makes you feel like an outsider. You’re still adjusting to the idea of being ‘Dawson Mercer’s girlfriend’ rather than just his old friend from home. The title comes with a level of attention you hadn’t quite prepared for.

"I'm Aly, by the way," she offers, snapping you out of your thoughts. "My Husband’s on the team too—Stefan." She says pointing to the jersey with "NOESEN" written on the back in large letters, you nod in understand quickly sharing your name as well.  Relief washes over you at her friendly demeanour, and you shake her hand. 

"Nice to meet you. So you’re, like, used to all of this?" She laughs, gesturing toward the arena with a flourish. 

"Oh, it took time, trust me. We haven't been in Jersey long but the first few games, I was so overwhelmed by the noise, the fans, all the little traditions—it's a lot to take in. But once you get the hang of it, it’s kind of addicting." You glance at the ice just in time to see Dawson’s gaze flicker toward the box. When he spots you, he grins, waving frantically before skating back to where his fellow teammates are stretching. Your stomach flutters.

Aly nudges you. "See? He’s got eyes on you already. You’ll be fine." continuing the chatter away as the game starts. 

The intermission is a welcome reprieve, a chance to step away and take a breath as you excuse yourself from your seat besides Aly who sends you a knowing smile, turning to one of the girls next to her to discuss the refs bad calls. You step away from your seat, wandering toward the back of the lounge to grab a drink. 

You’re taking a long sip as you turn back to the group of wives and girlfriends in the box — only recognising a few from instagram and photos Dawson had shown you, you can’t help but feel overwhelmed. The atmosphere feels suffocating, the laughter and chatter filling the space with a kind of intensity that presses in on you. Each one of them looks so effortlessly put together, so confident. They are comfortable in their roles, perfectly in sync with the world Dawson lives in. You feel like an imposter in your jeans and oversized sweater, standing there awkwardly with your drink in hand. The contrast between your casual appearance and their designer outfits makes your pulse quicken, and your throat tightens in discomfort.

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus on the conversations happening around you, but it only makes it worse. Aly is talking to a woman you don’t recognise, laughing about something, and you can’t help but notice how easily they fall into their conversation. The others seem so at ease with each other, like they've known each other for years, and you’re just the odd one out, lingering on the outskirts. You can’t remember the last time you felt so painfully aware of every little detail about yourself—how you don’t quite match their polished appearances or their effortless ease in this world.

"Are you alright?" a voice interrupts your spiralling thoughts. You turn to find a woman standing next to you, a gentle smile on her face. Her expression is warm, but there’s an edge to it, like she’s seen this kind of discomfort before.

"Yeah," you force a smile, but it feels so strained. "Just a little... overwhelmed, I guess." She nods knowingly, as if she understands exactly what you mean. 

"It’s a lot at first. I remember feeling like a fish out of water when I first started coming to these games." Her words only deepen your sense of being out of place. She’s been here before. She knows what she’s doing, she knows the others, she knows the expectations. You’re just the girl from home who never thought she’d be here, let alone be surrounded by so many people who seem to have everything figured out. And here you are, standing in the middle of it all, trying to pretend like you belong. You’re still standing there, feeling like a ghost, when Aly’s voice cuts through the murmur of the others around you.

"Oh, hey! Come sit with us!" She waves you over enthusiastically, the warmth of her invitation a stark contrast to the cold knot in your stomach. You hesitate for a moment, wondering if you should just slip away, hide in the corner, but you nod and make your way over, forcing your feet to move.

As you sit down, you feel the eyes on you. You can’t help but notice the glances exchanged between the other women, the soft smiles that don’t quite reach their eyes. Maybe it’s all in your head, but the way they look at you feels like they’re measuring you up, sizing you up in a way that makes your skin itch.

"How long have you and Dawson been together?" one of them asks, her voice polite but with an undercurrent of curiosity.

"Uh, a few months," you answer quickly, your heart racing. You want to add something else, something that will make you seem more worthy of being here, but your mind goes blank.

Aly jumps in to rescue you. "They’ve known each other for years, actually. Been friends since high school." The mention of the word “friend” sends a ripple of unease through you, and you quickly glance at Dawson. He’s on the ice now, his movements smooth and fluid, but the moment he sees you, his eyes lock with yours, and you can almost picture the smile he’d send you as he focuses back on what his teammates is whispering to him as they prep to start the second period. Your heart stutters, and for a moment, you feel seen. But it’s only a brief moment. The reality of the situation comes crashing back in.

You glance around again, catching sight of another woman with flawless hair, her jawline sharp and perfect, her outfit so sleek and coordinated. Her eyes flick to you, then flick away, and you feel the weight of her judgment—real or imagined—pressing down on you. You’re still just the girl from home. You haven’t earned your place here, in this world, not like they have.

The game drags on, but you can’t focus. You’re so wrapped up in your own insecurities, in the comparison between yourself and these women who seem so much more polished, so much more in tune with everything, that the sound of the crowd fades into background noise. You feel smaller by the second.

Before you know it, the game is over and each of the players is happily bonking their goalie on the head, the other WAGs slowly filing out of the family box as their partners clean up and reach the room to collect them. 

Aly wishes you a ‘see you next time’ as she clasps her husbands hand, turning her attention to him and cooing over the game he played, you watch them for a while the feeling of discomfort settling deep in your stomach as you stand up, suddenly feeling the need to escape. Your drink is long gone, but you feel the need to move, to get out of this box before the pressure inside your head gets to be too much.

You’re halfway toward the exit when you hear a voice calling your name.

"Dawson?" you say, turning around to see him making his way toward you, his expression concerned. You had almost forgotten he said he would come to get you after the game. 

"You alright?" he asks softly, his eyes scanning your face, noticing the strain in your features. His hand rests gently on your shoulder, grounding you in a way only he can.

"I..." you swallow, trying to gather your thoughts. "I just feel... out of place. I don’t know if I’m cut out for this."

Dawson’s brow furrows, his hand slipping down to take yours. "What do you mean?" You glance back at the family box, your gaze lingering on the women who seem so comfortable, so sure of themselves, and it all tumbles out. "I just feel like everyone’s got it all figured out, the look, the vibe, whatever it is, and I’m... just here, trying to keep up.” You take a breath, swiping at the hair falling in your face,  “I just don’t belong here, Dawson."

His expression softens, and he steps closer, his hand now cupping your face gently. "You belong with me. That’s all that matters." The sincerity in his voice pulls at something deep inside you. The overwhelming pressure of the moment melts away, and for a brief second, you let yourself breathe. 

“Let’s get you home.” He whispers, slowly reaching out to take your hand, hesitant to do much more hoping to avoid making you more overstimulated then you already seem to be. The ride home is quiet, the low hum of the engine and the soft music from the radio the only sounds filling the space between you. Dawson doesn't push you to talk, but you can feel his gaze flickering to you every so often, his concern evident. Your hands rest in your lap, fingers idly twisting together as you stare out the window, the city lights blurring past.

As soon as you step into Dawson’s apartment, a familiar warmth settles over you. His place has always felt comfortable, lived-in, with soft lighting and worn furniture that makes it feel like a home rather than just a space to exist in. You toe off your shoes, making your way to the bedroom your boyfriend following closely behind, Dawson’s hand wraps gently around your wrist, stopping you in place before you can escape to the bathroom.

"Hey," he murmurs, his voice low. "Talk to me." You hesitate, still feeling the weight of everything from tonight pressing down on your chest. But the concern in his eyes, the patience in his touch—it makes it impossible to brush him off.

"I just..." You exhale, shaking your head as you glance down. "I felt so out of place tonight, Dawson. Like I didn’t belong. Those women—they’re so confident, so sure of themselves. And then there’s me, standing there in my sweater and jeans, feeling like I somehow wandered into a world I was never supposed to be part of." His fingers tighten ever so slightly around your wrist before he lets go, only to cup your face instead. His thumb brushes over your cheek, his touch firm but careful, as if he knows just how fragile you feel right now.

"You belong with me," he says, repeating his words from earlier, but this time there’s something more in them—something deeper, something raw. "Not because of where I play or who I’m around. You belong because you’re you. That’s all I want. That’s all that matters."

You swallow, your throat tight. "But I don’t fit in." He exhales, shaking his head slightly. 

"You don’t have to. There’s no rule saying you need to be like them. I don’t want you to be like them—I want you to be you. The girl I’ve known forever, the one who calls me out on my shit, who knows how to make me laugh even when I’ve had the worst game of my life. That’s who I fell for. Not some version of you that fits into some mould." The sincerity in his words, in his gaze, makes something inside you ache. He steps closer, his fingers trailing down to your jaw, his breath warm against your skin. The air between you shifts, thickening with something unspoken, something deeper than just comfort.

Your lips part slightly, your pulse quickening as he studies you. "Do you get it now?" he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "Or do I need to convince you a little more?"

Your breath catches, heat rising in your cheeks at the challenge in his tone, the teasing glint in his eyes. The tension crackles between you, pulling you closer like gravity itself is at work. His nose brushes against yours, not quite a kiss, just lingering there, waiting.

"Dawson..." your voice is barely audible, but the way his lips curve tells you he hears it.

"Hmm?" he hums, his thumb still lazily stroking along your jaw. "Tell me what you need, baby."

The way he says it, soft yet firm, full of intention, makes your stomach flip. The doubt that had wrapped around your ribs earlier loosens, just a little, as his hands slide down to rest on your hips, pulling you flush against him. His body is solid, warm, grounding.

"I just need you," you admit, barely getting the words out before his lips finally press against yours. It starts slow, deliberate, like he’s proving a point more than anything else. Like he’s trying to kiss away every ounce of insecurity lingering in your mind. His fingers flex against your waist, holding you tighter, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

You won’t.

Not when he kisses you like this, like you’re the only thing that matters.

“You keep talking about yourself like that, and I’m gonna have to remind you just how perfect you are.” His voice was low, warm, coaxing as he pulls away, your lips still tingling from the feeling of his. You let out a soft laugh, but he catches the way your eyes dropped again, your confidence still shaken. That wouldn’t do. Not for his girl.

His fingers curled under the hem of your sweater, dragging it up over your head before you could protest. His lips pressed against your bare shoulder, his breath hot against your skin as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling your back flush against him as he turns you to face the large mirror. 

“Look,” he murmured, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Watch the way I touch you.” Heat bloomed in your chest, spreading down your spine as his hands roamed, slow and deliberate. His fingers traced over your ribs, teasing along the band of your bra before slipping lower, mapping the dips and curves of your body with reverence. Every touch sent a shiver through you, every glance at your reflection making your pulse quicken.

His eyes met yours in the mirror, dark and full of intent. “See what I see?” he asked, his voice husky, laced with something almost possessive. “Every inch of you drives me crazy.” Your breath hitched as he let his lips trail down your neck, his hands gripping your thighs, urging them apart as he made sure you saw—saw how easily he unraveled you, how much he worshipped you. His fingers make quick work of unbuttoning your jeans, sliding them slowly down your legs as he help you take each foot out, sliding them to the side. 

Then, he moves away from you, grabbing the chair in the corner of the room, shucking off all the clothes that you’re going to have to clean up later and dragging it to sit in front of the mirror, he takes quick steps around to the chair sinking into the plush leather with a smile, patting his lap lightly as he settles in. 

“Sit.” He says softly, and it’s not like you need any further instruction, stepping around the chair to sink into his lap, Dawson quickly slipping each of your thighs over his until you sit on his laps with your legs spread open.  “Keep watching,” he murmured against you, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. 

He glanced up, his dark eyes locking onto yours in the mirror. “You see now?” he asked, his voice thick with desire. “How could you ever doubt how much I want you?” By the time he was done proving his point, there was no doubt left in your mind—you belonged there, with him, in every way possible.

Dawson’s hands tighten on your hips, his touch grounding, firm. The heat of his palms against your skin is almost too much, too intense, yet not nearly enough. His voice is low, coaxing as he tilts your chin up, forcing your gaze back to the mirror where your reflection tells a story of surrender and desire.

“Don't look away,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your neck as he trails kisses down the sensitive skin there, his lips leaving a path of fire in their wake. “I want you to see what I see.” Your breath catches as his hands wander, fingers tracing slow, teasing patterns along the inside of your thighs, the anticipation thrumming through you like an electric current. He knows exactly what he’s doing, the way he takes his time, savouring every little reaction he pulls from you. His eyes flicker up to yours in the reflection, dark and hungry, his pupils blown wide with need. A slow, deliberate stroke of his fingers against the thin fabric still covering you has your thighs tensing, your lips parting in a soft gasp. Dawson smirks, his other hand splaying against your stomach, holding you in place against him.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, voice thick with satisfaction. “Let me take care of you.” His fingers dip beneath the waistband of your underwear, teasing, barely touching where you need him most. The anticipation coils tight in your belly, a desperate ache settling deep in your core.

“Dawson,” you breathe, your head falling back against his shoulder, your body instinctively pressing into his touch, silently begging for more.

He hums in approval, his free hand sliding up to cup your breast, his thumb circling over the clothed peak, sending another wave of heat through you. “So sensitive,” he muses, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. “So responsive for me.” You whimper as his fingers finally press where you need them, his touch both gentle and commanding. He works you into putty with slow, deliberate movements, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. The sight of him touching you, of your body arching into his hands, only fuels the fire burning between you.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice thick with pride and something deeper, something possessive. “So perfect. So beautiful.” Your hands grasp at his forearm, nails digging in slightly as pleasure builds, winding tighter and tighter until it feels like you might come apart at the seams. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, his lips soft, reverent.

“You feel how good you are for me?” His voice is a low rasp, his fingers curling just right, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through you. Your answer is a broken moan, your body trembling in his hold.

Then, just as suddenly, he pulls his hand away, leaving you aching, desperate. You let out a frustrated whimper, but before you can protest, he catches your wrist, guiding your hand down instead.

“Show me,” he whispers against your skin, his voice laced with dark encouragement. “I want to watch you fall apart for me.” Your breath shudders as your fingers take his place, the heat of his gaze burning into you as you touch yourself under his watchful eyes, only slight pushing your panties to the side to get full access to your dripping cunt. His hands don’t leave you—one steady on your stomach, the other stroking over your breast, his hand tugging the cup of your bra down, a smile spreading across his face as your breast tumbles out, his thumb flicking at your sensitive peak. Every sound you make is met with his approving hum, every shiver answered by the slow, deliberate grind of his body against yours.

“Just like that,” he coaxes, his mouth tracing the shell of your ear. “You’re so beautiful when you let go.” Your movements become more frantic, the pressure building unbearably fast under his murmured praise. His lips press against your temple, his voice a steady, grounding presence. “Come for me, sweetheart. Let me see how good you are.”

The pleasure crests, a wave crashing over you, stealing the breath from your lungs as you unravel in his arms. His name falls from your lips in a desperate cry, and he holds you through it, whispering sweet, reverent words against your skin, his hands gentle as they stroke over your trembling form. As the aftershocks fade, you collapse back against his chest, breathless and sated. He presses a lingering kiss to your shoulder, his grip on you unyielding, protective.

“Perfect,” he murmurs, his voice rich with satisfaction. “Just perfect.” He continues to whisper praises into your ear, his lips tracing a path down the column of your throat. Every word, every touch, is designed to unravel you, to strip away every lingering doubt until all that’s left is the certainty of him—of this.

“You feel that?” he murmurs against your skin, his hands gliding down your sides, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your thighs, the firm press of something hard against your back. “That’s me wanting you. Every inch of you. Every part of you that you think doesn’t belong? It does, baby. You do.” Your breath stutters as he shifts beneath you, the firm press of his body against yours making it impossible to think about anything other than the way he fits against you, the way his hands guide your movements, slow and deliberate. His lips brush the shell of your ear, and you swear you feel him smile.

“I could spend all night reminding you,” he says, voice thick with promise, “but I think you’re starting to get it now, aren’t you?” His fingers slip lower, teasing, coaxing, until your gasp fills the space between you. You meet his gaze in the mirror, your body flushed, lips parted, eyes heavy with desire. And in that moment, you finally see what he sees—how much he wants you, how much you belong here, with him, in every way that matters.

And as the night stretches on, Dawson keeps his word—reminding you, again and again, until there isn’t a single doubt left in your mind.

[simplyraeblue]

King and Captive

(Hunter and Hunted Spin-Off) read here

modern au a chance meeting with Sukuna quickly turns into a nightly routine you can't escape. as the lines between game and something more blur, you start to wonder—how long can you keep playing, or will Sukuna make you his next conquest? !Sukuna x !femreader

chapter warnings/tags: swearing, suggestive themes, use of "princess", "she/her" pronouns used, asshole ex shows up, first kiss, Sukuna is down bad and so are you A/N: okay I'm obsessed with Sukuna and reader's dynamic, and addicted to adding little Gojo bits bc that's my baby. sooooooo I also actually had smut in this chapter BUT THEN IT WAS LONG AS CRAP. look forward to it next chapter ;) also, if you have been cheated on like I'm writing in this story I'll literally fight them (ง'̀-'́)ง

index part three | part five

part four word count : 4,475

Sukuna couldn’t meet at your usual spot tonight—he had clients to squeeze in at the shop, leaving you to wander home alone. you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of disappointment, but exhaustion from the workday quickly took over. by the time you got home, you barely managed to kick off your shoes before collapsing onto the couch, letting sleep claim you almost instantly.

you weren’t sure how long you’d been out, but the sound of knocking at your apartment door jolted you awake. the room was dark, the only light coming from the faint glow of the streetlamp outside. rubbing your eyes, you stumbled toward the door, still half-asleep.

standing on your tiptoes, you peered through the peephole, and your breath caught. Sukuna was on the other side, leaning casually against the doorframe like he had every reason to be there.

how the hell did he figure out which apartment was yours? you’d only ever pointed him to your building in passing, and he’d never come up the stairs.

hurriedly, you unlocked the door and swung it open, leaning against the frame as you squinted at him. “let me guess—this is the part where you start stalking me and showing up uninvited?” you teased, though your tone held more curiosity than annoyance.

Sukuna smirked, that familiar cocky glint in his eyes. “took you long enough to open the door, princess. I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me.”

“forgotten?” you shot back, crossing your arms. “more like I thought you’d finally taken the hint to leave me alone.”

his grin widened, sharp and teasing. “oh, sweetheart, you and I both know that’s not happening.”

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, though the warmth spreading through your chest betrayed you. “so? what are you doing here, Sukuna? don’t tell me you came all this way just to annoy me.”

“maybe I just wanted to see you,” he replied smoothly, the teasing edge softening ever so slightly.

that caught you off guard, but before you could reply, he raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly closer. “or maybe I figured out you’re terrible at locking your door and thought I’d save you from yourself.”

your lips twitched despite yourself. “you’re impossible, you know that?”

“and yet, here I am,” he said, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “you gonna let me in, or are we doing this in the hallway?”

against your better judgment—or maybe because of it—you stepped aside, motioning for him to come in. Sukuna sauntered past you, the smugness practically radiating off him as you shut the door behind him.

“make yourself at home, I guess,” you muttered, trying not to focus on the fact that your heart hadn’t stopped racing since the moment you’d seen him.

you turned to face him, only to realize Sukuna was standing much closer than before. his crimson eyes bore into yours, the smirk on his face sharper, more intense than you’d ever seen it. the space between you seemed to shrink, the air charged with something electric, something inevitable.

“you’re really going to let me in that easily?” he asked, his voice low and rough, his gaze flicking to your lips for just a second before meeting your eyes again.

you opened your mouth to respond, maybe to deflect with a teasing remark, but the words never made it out. Sukuna stepped forward, his hand rising to cup your face, tilting your chin up with a deliberate, almost possessive touch. then his lips were on yours.

the kiss was rushed, heated, and completely overwhelming. his other hand gripped your waist, pulling you against him as though he’d been waiting for this moment forever. your fingers clutched at his shirt, the fabric wrinkling under your grip as you melted into him, the rest of the world fading into nothing.

he kissed you like he meant to consume you, his movements bold and unapologetic, leaving no room for hesitation. and you kissed him back with equal fervor, your body moving on instinct, meeting him halfway in a dance that was all fire and no thought.

and it was perfect - until you woke up, still on your couch with the sun only just setting.

you felt like you were going insane. every thought began to revolve around one thing – Sukuna. that asshole had invaded your mind and planted himself firmly in the fucking limbic system of your brain. some guy checks out your ass at work? you imagine what Sukuna would do. you see someone on the street with a tattoo? you wonder if Sukuna did it.

it was getting ridiculous. every night your dreams were accompanied by his wolfish grin, and always ended with you waking up in a flustered sweat. and you hadn’t even seen his dick yet.

you didn’t want to fold that fast, but your urges were becoming stronger every time you saw him. lingering touches, suggestive teasing – last week on a date with Sukuna he leaned down to whisper to you, his lips barely brushing the shell of your ear, and your knees went wobbly.

he knew how to play the game, and obviously how to win it.

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it was almost inevitable that you’d find yourself standing in front of Cursed Ink unannounced that night. the bell chimed as you pushed open the shop door, but instead of Sukuna, someone else greeted you.

“ooooh, you’re back!” Gojo’s voice rang out, his trademark grin spreading across his face in an instant. “here to see Suku?”

you blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard by his energy. Gojo leaned against the counter as he watched you with obvious amusement.

“uh, yeah,” you replied, stepping further inside. “is he around?”

Gojo smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “he’s in the back finishing up a design, but don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to see you.” he tilted his head dramatically, lowering his sunglasses to peer at you more closely. “you’re braver than I thought, showing up here willingly.”

“should I be worried?” you teased, crossing your arms.

“only if you’re planning to let him give you a tattoo,” Gojo quipped, his grin widening. “though, I gotta admit, Sukuna’s been in a weirdly good mood lately. you wouldn’t happen to know why, would you?”

before you could answer, another voice cut through the air, cold and clipped.

“Gojo, stop pestering her.”

you turned to see Uraume approaching from the back hallway, their pale gaze flicking between you and Gojo. “Sukuna will be out in a minute,” they said flatly, their tone dismissive as if they were already tired of Gojo’s antics.

Gojo feigned offense, pressing his hand to his chest. “pestering? me? I’m just being friendly.”

“friendly isn’t in your vocabulary,” Uraume replied coolly before turning to you. “he mentioned you might stop by. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

with that, Uraume disappeared into the back, leaving you alone with Gojo, who was still grinning like he knew something you didn’t.

“so,” Gojo drawled, leaning closer across the counter. “what’s the deal with you and ol’ Sukuna, huh? friends? fuck buddies? future victim?”

you gave him a look, unbothered by his teasing. “just here to talk to him. that’s all.”

Gojo laughed, straightening up. “sure, sure. keep telling yourself that.”

before you could retort, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed from the back, and Sukuna appeared, wiping his hands on a towel. his crimson eyes locked onto yours instantly, his smirk curling into place.

“took you long enough,” Sukuna said, his tone low and teasing. “couldn’t stay away, could you?”

Gojo snickered in the background, clearly enjoying the show, but one sharp glare from Sukuna had him zipping his lips—for the moment, at least.

“come on,” Sukuna said, nodding his head toward the back. “let’s talk somewhere less… annoying.”

as you followed Sukuna into the back room, you couldn’t help but notice Gojo’s exaggerated wink and whisper behind you: “have fun, lovebirds!”

Sukuna didn’t bother looking back as he muttered, “I’m going to kill him one of these days.”

Sukuna led you into the back, where the noise of the shop faded into a quieter, more personal space. Sukuna tossed the towel onto a counter and turned to face you, arms crossed, his sharp grin still in place.

“so, what brings you here?” he asked, leaning casually against the table. “couldn’t stop thinking about me?”

“hard not to, considering you’re practically blowing up my phone all day,” you teased, a smirk tugging at your lips. “don’t pretend you’re not happy to see me.”

Sukuna scoffed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “oh, I’ve been nothing but honest, princess. absolutely thrilled you’re here.”

you snorted at his reply, crossing your arms as you leaned casually against the wall. “yeah, sure. that enthusiasm is just radiating off you.”

before Sukuna could retort, the sound of laughter and bickering filtered in from the front of the shop, followed by Gojo’s unmistakable voice.

“hey, Sukuna! what’s taking so long? don’t tell me you’re getting hard back there!”

Uraume’s deadpan voice followed. “Gojo, shut up before he actually kills you this time.”

Sukuna groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “these idiots,” he muttered under his breath.

he shoved the door open with more force than necessary, stepping into the main area where Gojo was perched on the counter like it was his personal throne and Uraume stood nearby, arms crossed.

“out,” Sukuna said, his tone sharp and commanding.

Gojo tilted his head, feigning confusion. “out? but we just got here! this is a public shop, you know.”

“you don’t work here, but I do,” Sukuna growled, pointing toward the door. “which means I can throw you out whenever I feel like it. and right now, I feel like it.”

Uraume sighed but didn’t argue, already heading for the exit. “don’t bother arguing, Gojo. he’s not in the mood.”

Gojo hopped off the counter with an exaggerated pout, adjusting his sunglasses. “fine, fine. but you’re no fun, Suku.” he shot you a cheeky grin on his way out. “good luck with him! you’ll need it.”

the door shut behind them, leaving the shop in blessed silence. Sukuna turned back to you, exhaling heavily as he leaned against the counter.

“finally,” he muttered, shaking his head. “those clowns could drive a saint insane.”

“and you’re definitely no saint,” you quipped, earning a low chuckle from him.

“no,” he said, his smirk returning as his eyes met yours. “but I don’t mind being a saint for the right person.”

you rolled your eyes at his shameless flirting, but the heat rising in your cheeks betrayed you. Sukuna caught it immediately, his grin widening as he pushed off the counter and stepped closer.

“now,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “where were we?”

maybe tonight, you wouldn’t fight it. had he earned it yet? probably not—but you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore. he had put in the effort, and for now, that was enough. at least, it was enough for you.

Sukuna’s gaze lingered on you, his crimson eyes smoldering with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. he was close now—so close that the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint trace of ink. his smirk softened, just slightly, as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a calloused finger.

“you’re quiet,” he murmured, his voice low and edged with curiosity. “that’s not like you.”

you swallowed, your pulse pounding in your ears. “maybe I’ve run out of insults for you.”

he chuckled, the sound deep and rich, and leaned in just enough for his breath to ghost over your skin. “doubtful. but I’ll take it.”

for a moment, neither of you moved, the air between you thick with tension. then, as if the world had paused around you, Sukuna reached out and cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

“tell me to stop,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze locked on yours.

you didn’t.

that was all the confirmation he needed. Sukuna closed the distance, his lips crashing into yours with a passion that left you breathless. his hands were firm yet careful as they pulled you closer, erasing any space that dared to remain between you.

your fingers found their way to his shirt, clutching the fabric as you kissed him back with just as much intensity. it wasn’t gentle—it was fiery, consuming, and completely inescapable.

when you finally broke apart, both of you breathless, Sukuna’s forehead rested against yours, his smirk back but softer this time.

“about fucking time,” he murmured, his voice rough, his thumb tracing your jawline.

you could only manage a shaky laugh, your heart racing. “don’t get used to it.”

he chuckled, low and full of mischief. “too late, princess. way too late.”

“you’re still a sleazeball, you know that?” you teased, your words carrying no real edge.

Sukuna smirked, but beneath his cool facade, he was wrecked. one kiss, and he was done for. he felt it in his core—the raw, unrelenting desire that coursed through him, igniting every nerve and overtaking his senses. he hadn’t expected this, hadn’t expected you to give in so soon. but though it surprised him, he certainly wasn’t about to complain.

“guess that makes you the fool for kissing a sleazeball,” he teased, his voice low and dripping with amusement.

you rolled your eyes, though the faint blush on your cheeks betrayed you. “don’t push your luck, Sukuna. one kiss doesn’t mean I’m letting my guard down.”

his grin widened, sharp and full of mischief. “oh, princess, I don’t need you to let your guard down. I’ll work my way past it just fine.”

he pulled you closer, his arms circling your waist now as if daring you to push him away. but you didn’t. instead, you let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head.

“god, you’re impossible.”

“only for you,” he said, his tone softer this time, though it still carried that teasing edge.

the moment lingered, a quiet intensity wrapping around the two of you as the world outside the shop seemed to fade away. Sukuna wasn’t used to feeling like this—like he could lose himself in someone else. but with you? it felt too easy.

“so,” he drawled after a moment, his smirk returning, “you sticking around for a while, or are you running off before I start bragging about that kiss?”

you scoffed, shoving lightly at his chest. “as if I’d let you have that satisfaction.”

his laughter echoed through the room, low and rich, as he held you tighter for a fleeting second before letting go. “good. I wasn’t planning on letting you leave anyway.”

so you hung around his shop for another hour, the place eerily quiet with his coworkers gone and nothing but the sound of his tattoo gun as he practiced a design to fill the silence. you swung your legs back and forth while sitting on his client chair, humming in tune with the buzzing of his gun, but every so often your hums would falter when Sukuna’s hand would reach over and deliberately brush your knee to “reach something”.

would he take you right here if you wanted? on his chair, in his shop? how far could you push before he snapped – or rather, how far could he push before you begged him for it?

you were lost in your sinful thoughts, so drowned in the daydream of being bent over the client chair, that you barely registered the door’s bell until Sukuna gave your leg a nudge. you followed his line of sight and froze at what you saw.

without a word, you slid off the chair and ducked behind the half wall dividing Sukuna’s workstation from the rest—quick and quiet, like a startled cat. Sukuna blinked at you, baffled. “uh, what’re you doing?” he asked, arching a curious brow at your sudden panic.

“shhh!” you frantically gestured for silence, pressing yourself flat against the wall. his eyes darted from you to the couple who’d just entered the shop. “it’s my ex,” you whispered, voice tight, “and the bitch he cheated on me with.”

oh. oh… he glanced at you, then back at them, and a devilish grin curled at the edges of his mouth. oh, this could be interesting.

turning his attention to the unsuspecting customers, he straightened up and spoke in his smooth, confident drawl. “welcome in,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, “what can I help you with today?”

you could only see the faintest glimpse of their feet from where you crouched, heart pounding. every fiber of you screamed to make a run for it, but the thought of darting past them felt worse than staying hidden. your shoulders tensed as you tried to breathe quietly, praying they wouldn’t notice you.

Sukuna, meanwhile, oozed confidence and calm, as if he were fully in control of this bizarre situation. “so,” he began, arms crossed as he leaned against the counter, “looking for something special today?”

you could hear the slight hesitation in your ex’s voice as he answered, “uh, yeah, I’m… I’m looking to get a piece done.” the muffled tone made you think he recognized Sukuna’s presence as a bit intimidating—or maybe he was just nervous about committing ink to his skin. the woman beside him, no doubt the reason you were pinned to a wall right now, added something you couldn’t quite make out. her tone was sugary, too sweet, and you wondered what Sukuna would make of her.

the only that thing Sukuna was not enjoying right now was the idea that you were making yourself small. you were shrinking into your hiding spot because of this guy, who he had already pegged to be a tool. surely you knew you were better than him, right?

Sukuna let out a low hum, taking his time as if sizing them up. “sure, we can work something out,” he said easily. “I’ve got a couple spots open tonight. first, though… mind telling me what you’re thinking of?”

a creak of footsteps on the floorboards made you tense further. were they moving toward your hiding spot? your jaw clenched as you tried to make yourself even smaller, practically molding into the wall. above you, Sukuna’s voice remained steady, casual, and you imagined the crooked grin on his face—especially now that he knew exactly who was shopping for ink in his parlor.

the silence stretched for a second, and you couldn’t help but picture Sukuna’s expression, that wicked fire flickering in his crimson eyes. he was enjoying this, savoring every second while you trembled in hidden terror.

your ex cleared his throat. “thinking something… minimalist. maybe a small phrase.” his voice sounded unsure, as if he was trying to impress the girl at his side but had no real clue what he wanted.

“minimalist,” Sukuna echoed, no judgment in his tone, only interest. “got a phrase in mind?” he paused and then, as if it were the most casual thing in the world, asked, “or maybe a name?”

the question hung in the air, loaded and dangerous. you stifled a gasp, your stomach twisting. he wouldn’t—

but Sukuna was nothing if not a master at stirring the pot. you could almost feel his amusement drifting down to you as you pressed yourself flat, praying that whatever he had planned would stay just subtle enough to keep your cover from being blown.

the new girl’s heels clicked slightly on the wooden floor. “a name?” she repeated, a note of suspicion creeping into her sugary tone. “did someone recommend this place to you?”

your ex cleared his throat, sounding flustered. “n-no, just... I’ve heard it’s good, that’s all.” there was a restless shuffle, and you imagined him rubbing the back of his neck. you recalled that nervous habit all too well. “I was thinking of something small. a word, maybe. something about fresh starts.”

you could almost see Sukuna’s grin widening. “fresh starts, huh?” he said, voice dripping with false innocence. “funny you should say that.” he paused just long enough for the tension to climb another notch. “I had a client once, real sweetheart. she’d come in here from time to time. got a little something done not too long ago after breaking it off with some jerk who didn’t know what he had.”

oh, god. you bit down on your lip, hard. did he have to lay it on so thick with a complete lie? you pressed yourself flatter, arms aching from how tense you were.

the girl was the first to speak up. “is that so?” her voice was tight, and you could picture her narrowing her eyes. “sounds like a lot of drama for a tattoo shop.”

Sukuna huffed a laugh. “you’d be surprised what people tell me when they’re under the needle.” another short pause. “y’know, you look a bit uncomfortable. why don’t we step over this way?” he took a step, leading them farther into the shop—closer to your hiding spot.

your heart lurched. each footstep echoed like a countdown to disaster. you could almost feel Sukuna’s presence looming overhead, his amusement rolling off him in waves. he was enjoying this too much.

your ex’s voice cracked slightly. “uh, well, maybe we should—”

too late. the girl’s gaze drifted, probably scanning the area. then a sudden hush fell. you knew it was over before you even looked up. her shoes came into view on the other side of the half wall. she must’ve caught a glimpse of you, maybe just your shoulder or the top of your head peeking out.

“what the—?” she said, stepping forward as if drawn by morbid curiosity.

the sound of her voice so close made your heart sink. slowly, you lifted your head, your eyes meeting hers from your crouched position. your ex let out a strangled, “you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Sukuna, for his part, didn’t even pretend to be surprised. he just crossed his arms, leaning against the wall with that lazy smirk. “ah,” he said, voice smug. “found something you like, doll?”

you pushed yourself to your feet, cheeks burning, arms stiff from holding yourself so still. every part of you wanted to vanish on the spot, but here you were—caught red-handed.

your ex’s eyes widened, disbelief warring with embarrassment and maybe even a hint of guilt. the girl at his side set her jaw, looking between you and Sukuna as if trying to piece together a puzzle.

Sukuna’s grin practically dripped satisfaction. “well, now that the gang’s all here, how about we figure out exactly what kind of ink you need,” he drawled, his tone low and mocking. “I’m sure we can find something… fitting.”

you straightened, trying desperately to summon your usual composure despite the heat creeping up your neck. your ex opened his mouth, probably searching for some kind of explanation or retort, but Sukuna beat him to it.

before you could blink, Sukuna draped an arm over your shoulder, pulling you close against his side. his smirk softened into something affectionate as he addressed the pair, acting as if this were the most natural thing in the world. “sweetheart, I didn’t know you were expecting visitors,” he teased, his tone dripping with insincerity. “you should’ve told me. I’d have rolled out a red carpet.”

your ex’s face twisted, a mixture of shock and annoyance flickering across his features. the girl beside him stiffened, arms crossing defensively. “we’re not here to see—” she stumbled over her words, glaring at Sukuna’s arm around you. “we just wanted a tattoo. that’s what this place is for, right?”

“sure is,” Sukuna agreed, casually squeezing your shoulder as if to emphasize his claim. “but I’ve got to say, I only do my best work when the vibe’s right. isn’t that what you said earlier, princess?” he dipped his head slightly, nose nuzzling the top of your head for added effect, as though waiting for you to chime in.

you swallowed hard, noting the challenge in his gaze. fine. two could play at this. “uh… yeah,” you managed, forcing a small smile. “he’s very particular.” you settled your hand on his chest, partly to play along, partly to steady yourself. the hard muscle beneath his shirt didn’t help calm your pulse, and you found your fingers drawing circles against the fabric to lay it on extra thick.

your ex’s jaw tightened. “we don’t need the attitude. we came for a tattoo, not… whatever this is.” he waved a hand at you and Sukuna, clearly unsettled by the dynamic.

Sukuna responded with a slow, dismissive chuckle. “you know, I’m getting the sense that we’re just not the right fit for your ink tonight. could be my mood, could be the… circumstances.” he let the implication hang.

the girl scowled. “forget it,” she snapped, turning on her heel. “come on, let’s find another place.” she seized your ex’s arm, tugging him toward the door. your ex hesitated for a heartbeat, his gaze lingering on you—was that guilt in his eyes, or just frustration? you couldn’t tell, and honestly, you didn’t care. he’d made his choices long ago.

“fine,” he bit out, finally letting himself be pulled away. his voice dropped, grumbling under his breath as they retreated toward the exit.

the bell above the door jangled softly as they slipped out into the night, leaving just you and Sukuna behind. his arm remained comfortably around your shoulders, and you were acutely aware of every point of contact. the nerves that had been wracking your body gave way to the heat you’d been feeling earlier, just from his touch.

finally, he released you, stepping back with that signature grin still firmly in place. “well, that was fun,” he said, tone light, as if you two had just won some sort of game.

you forced a laugh, hand rising to rub the back of your neck. “fun, huh?” the adrenaline still buzzed in your veins, and you weren’t quite sure what to make of what just happened.

Sukuna shrugged, eyes gleaming. “sure. just doing my civic duty. asshole exes deserve a little show, don’t they?” his smirk softened—just a fraction. “hope I didn’t overstep.”

your heart still hammered, but you managed a smirk of your own. “I’ll let it slide… this time,” you teased. “next time, maybe give me a warning before you pull something like that.”

Sukuna chuckled, heading back toward his station as though nothing unusual had happened. “where’s the fun in that, princess?” he called over his shoulder.

you rolled your eyes, but there was a smile tugging at your lips.

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