#i'm so excited!!!!!!!!!!! i love his voice

[nerdy-novelist017]

A Date (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader Pt 3)

Thank you so much for all your kind words, likes and reblogs on my last two posts! You guys are keeping me so entertained with the comments!

Ugh I rewrote this like 3 times :( I just couldn't get it right and I'm still not sure how I feel about it OH WELL

Benny x Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 2.2K

Summary- You were sure you'd never see Benny Cross again. . . you were wrong.

******

“Benny’s been asking for ya.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you nearly dropped the receiver into the bowl of cake batter. Kathy’s statement came out of left field, the two of you having been discussing the latest news on the block – what kind of lipstick Sheryl Dickie uses that somehow always lasts an entire night of bar hopping. “What?”

“Yeah, says he’s real desperate to ask you somethin’,” Kathy’s tone was flippant, but you’ve known her long enough to hear the excitement she’s hiding in her voice.

“What could he possibly have to talk to me about?” You asked as you set the whisk down and moved around the kitchen counter to peak down the hallway towards the living room where you knew your father sat in his large recliner, watching a rerun of Bonanza. 

“I dunno, maybe you should come to another meetin’ so you can find out.”

“No, I’m not going to anymore of those.” you declared firmly, yanking the cord so that the phone was up to your other ear. “I don’t know how you can stand being around those guys.”

Kathy laughed, the static spiking. “C’mon, they’re fun, and you know it. Did you tell your parents how you got to ride on the back of a Vandal’s bike, and not just any Vandal!”

“No!” you squeaked. “And they’re never going to know. It was a one-time thing.”

“It doesn’t have to be. They’re having another meetin’ tonight. I’m sure Benny could pick you up–”

“Well, I can’t tonight,” you cut her off. “I have plans.”

“What plans?”

“My date.”

“Date?” Kathy asked, voice lowering dubiously. “With who?”

“Pete,” you said quietly. 

“Who?” she asked again.

You sighed. “Pete? The guy from Mama’s church?” 

Pete was introduced to you last week by your mother who was introduced to him by his mother. It was a train of people who wanted to matchmake, to see young love blossom before their eyes, even if it was forced. Pete was nice enough and he had kind eyes that sat behind wide-rimmed glasses. You’d been on one other date with him. He was an engineering student in his first year and he talked a lot about his school. He liked school. And he liked to golf nearly every weekend (his family belonged to the country club on the upper side of town). And mostly – he talked a lot about himself. He seemed to really like himself too.

“Oh, okay.” Kathy sounded unimpressed.

“My family really likes him. My dad likes him.”

“Yeah?” 

At her unenthusiastic response, you added quickly, “And I’m excited!”

“Is that why you’re stress-baking?” Kathy inquired as if she could sense it.

You glance down at the bowl of cake batter. No, it wasn’t, actually. You weren’t nervous to go on your second date with Pete; he didn’t make her nervous, didn’t fill your belly with those pesky butterflies. Pete was . . . just Pete. No, you were stress-baking because of a certain blonde Bikerider whose ocean blue eyes wouldn’t leave your thoughts all night. You were up, tossing and turning, replaying every moment with him like a broken record. It was one ride, the logical side of your mind had to say, and you’ll never see him again. You allowed yourself the rest of the night to think about him, and then you wouldn’t set aside any more time. 

In theory, it was a nice strategy. But when you woke up today, your thoughts were absolutely clouded with him and his incredibly direct eye-contact and his deeply rich voice and his hand touching your thigh and his lips encasing the cigarette—

You were doing it again! It had been one ride! One ride and a few hours. One ride where your arms wrapped so tightly to his solid form. One ride where he showed you places you’d never seen before, from a point of view you’d never been before. One ride where you felt as though you were seeing the world in a whole new light. One ride that you couldn’t get out of your head.

“Yes, because of Pete,” you replied evenly. “And I’m going to have a good time with him tonight.”

There’s a smile in her voice when she says, “Okay, sure. Say, what restaurant did ya say he was takin’ you?”

********

Thanking the driver, you stepped out of the cab, your heels connecting softly with the concrete of the sidewalk. Taking a moment to smooth any wrinkles on your pink dress, your gaze fluttered across the street to the restaurant Pete told you to meet him at. 

Ricardo’s was one of the most expensive restaurants in town, somewhere you never found yourself frequenting, but Pete absolutely gushed about their food. Coming from old money, Pete had no hesitation picking here for your second date. Pete’s family was well off, that’s what your mother liked to point out. He was a good boy with good money. He would provide for you, buy you a nice house with a picket fence in the front yard. A safe bet for the same routine life that nearly all the women of your family had spanning back several generations.

You made your way across the street, eyes taking in the lineup of expensive cars parked out front: Mercedes, Rolls Royce, Cadillac . . . Harley-Davidson motorcycle. You did a double-take at the shiny metal glinting underneath the streetlamp, eyes traveling upwards to the figure leaning casually against it. He was looking at the restaurant, head turned to give a generous view of his profile, and he hadn’t noticed you yet. For a split second, you considered taking advantage of that and booking it into the front door before he had a chance to stop you. But some deeply intrinsic part of you yearned to memorize every detail of him and you simply couldn’t look away. As a moth drawn to flame, you were drawn to him, to the golden streaks of his hair, down to the strong slope of his nose, the curve where his top lip sat so perfectly against the bottom – even with the cigarette tucked between. He wore long sleeves under his club jacket and the same distressed jeans from your last encounter. Half shrouded in the darkness of night, with the orange glow of the streetlight nearest to him, he looked like a beacon of mystery. Abandoning your previous course, you turned and approached him.

“What are you doing here?” You asked once you were close enough for him to hear you. 

Benny turned and a smile broke out over his features, eyes sweeping down your figure. “Do you dress like that all the time or only when you’re gonna see me?” He asked, nodding to your dress and heels. 

You stopped about 6 feet away from him (a reasonable distance), hopping up onto the sidewalk. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“What a chance encounter,” he proclaimed with a secretive wink that sent your stomach on a roller coaster ride. 

“Chance encounter, or Kathy’s loose lips?” you quipped and he rubbed a hand over his mouth to keep from smiling, fingers grazing through the blonde, recently-trimmed facial hair.  

“Why are you here?” You asked again, this time a touch quieter.  

“Well, I have a coupon,” he replied simply.

You couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at your lips, your brows raising incredulously. “A coupon? To Ricardo’s?”

“Mm-hm,” he nodded, straight-faced.

You rolled your eyes at his antics. He had a coupon, your ass. A well-dressed elderly couple walked past you both on the sidewalk, each shooting a look of disapproval toward the dirty young man leaning against his death machine. Benny seemed not to notice them, his gaze still on you. 

“Why are you here?” he questioned.

“I–I have a date,” you replied and desperately tried to ignore the heat rising to your face at the admission. “But something tells me you already know that.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, looking down to the ground for all of five seconds before his gaze flashed back up to you. “Wanna go for a ride, Little Bunny?”

“What? No.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Why not?”

“Well, I just told you I'm here for a date,” you replied with a tilt of your head. 

Benny shrugged. “So?”

You shook your head but he continued, “Why are you wastin’ your time with dates when we’re gonna be married anyway?”

Your mouth fell open in surprise. The nerve on this guy! Part of you was surprised that he still had it in his head of marrying you. You thought maybe he had a few too many beers last night or was just smooth-talking you so that you’d let him sleep with you. But here he was, showing up on the sidewalk, giving you those puppy eyes. You’d already denied him once. Could he not take a hint?

“I don’t recall you ever asking.” you pointed out, feeling emboldened by his casual attitude. 

He perked up at that, tossing the remainder of his cigarette to the ground. “You want me to ask?”

You fought to remain neutral-faced at his playfulness. “No, thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . . I have a date.” One that you were excited about before you caught sight of Benny and your train of thoughts completely derailed.

Benny held his hands up in a conciliatory way and you turned on your heel, leaving him out on the streets as you made your way inside.

******

The clock on the far wall seemed to be mocking you, minutes ticking by mercilessly. You resisted looking at it, instead planting your chin in the palm of your hand as you watched the door, waiting for Pete’s familiar face to appear. It had been over an hour. He was over an hour late for your date. 

Each time the waitress returned to fill your glass of water, you told yourself a new lie. He was just stuck at work, he’ll be here soon. He was running behind getting ready, he’ll be here soon. There must have been an emergency, he’ll be here soon. He wouldn’t stand you up, he’ll be here soon. 

But as the seconds passed, you sunk further and further into your seat, humiliation forming a ball in your stomach. Surely, he had gotten his days mixed up? He really seemed to enjoy your first date, so why was he nowhere to be seen. Every time someone walked through the front door, the little bell chiming above, you glanced up, certain it would be him. But it never was. At first, you were angry. How could he have the audacity to leave you hanging without so much as calling you before he left if he knew he wouldn’t be able to make it. Then a bitter thought came to mind: what if he stood you up because he didn’t want to go out with you again. What if you weren't good enough for him. You had spent your whole life on the never ending hamster wheel of trying to be good enough for everyone else. Was your hard work even noticed?

Recognizing the sting of unshed tears, you looked down at the napkin folded neatly in your lap, blinking rapidly in an attempt to get control of yourself. The bell chimed over the front door, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look over at it, not wanting to feel the crushing disappointment of another wealthy customer walking inside and not your date. 

Then a flash of dark clothing popped across from you and you looked up just as Benny Cross slid into the empty seat. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. He leaned forward, elbows of his leather jacket propped over the tablecloth.

“Pete not show?” he asked, expression solemn. 

Your ears burned and you shook your head. Too preoccupied by your embarrassment, it didn’t even occur to you that you had never told him Pete’s name. 

He frowned and he genuinely appeared upset. Unable to maintain his direct gaze, you glanced away and caught the eyes of everyone else in the restaurant staring wide-eyed at the two of you. You realized that it was Benny who they were gawking at. And you didn’t seem to notice until now that he looked totally out of place with his worn clothes and dirty hands. As if sensing their not-so-subtle staring, Benny turned and looked about the room.

“What’s with all the stiff shirts in here?” he asked, sending you a conspiratorial glance. “I think they might be intimidated by you.”

“Me?” You furrowed your brow. It definitely wasn’t you they were looking at. In fact, the only person who was staring at you was Benny. 

“Yeah, I bet they’ve never seen anyone as pretty as you. Most people haven’t and they don't know how to act when they do.” He grinned and you had to look down at your lap as heat rose to your face.  

“I guess Pete wouldn’t agree,” you muttered quietly, feeling the anger in your heart fizzle out to meer disappointment. 

“Fuck Pete,” Benny said passionately, causing an elderly woman behind you to gasp and you giggled, shocked at his language. Benny was bad, he was trouble . . . but he was also fun, and you couldn’t hide your eagerness as he leaned his arms across the table, moving closer to address you privately. 

“You wanna get out of here, Bunny?” His question sent a gust of anticipation through your veins. 

“Yeah,” you admitted, smiling shyly. 

He stood quickly and you followed in suit. Then he did something that caused a wave of butterflies to roll through your stomach; he reached out and clasped his hand with you, interlocking fingers tightly. You grinned, excitement making you feel light and airy as he pulled you through the restaurant, past all the staring faces and harsh whispers and out the door into the night which felt alive with a whole new feeling of possibilities. 

*Tag List*

@imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @ironmooncat @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer @charmingballoon @eugene-emt-roe  @sunnbib @semperamans @groovyangelkisses @killerqueenfan

[wholoveseggs]

Small Victories

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Daemon Targaryen X Reader} After a tourney in which Daemon places second, he seeks solace from his loss and finds it in his little northern maid.

♡♡ Hello darlings! I'm branching out slightly and writing about a new character {Don't worry, I'm still writing Elijah} xoxo ♡♡

5.3k words - Warnings: smutt, size!kink, rough sex, dom!daemon, slight choking, virgin!reader, northern!reader, servant!reader, pre-dance Daemon, huge power imbalance...

♡♡ Hey! I didn't tag anyone because I'm unsure if you want to read Daemon content. If you wish to be tagged in future Daemon let me know ♡♡

You didn't like the Red Keep, it was too grand for your liking. Even with all of the people in it you still felt alone. At night, you could hear voices echoing throughout the halls, sometimes they were singing or laughing and other times they were screaming or moaning.

You could never tell where the sounds were coming from, it gave the place an odd feeling of being haunted. Ghosts weren't something you put your faith in, but that didn't stop the hair from standing up on the back of your neck whenever you heard a strange sound.

If it was up to you, you wouldn't live here. You would be back in the little cottage you grew up in, far into the north and as far away from King's landing as you could possibly be. It was a funny contradiction, that such a grand place in a warm environment could feel so cold, while a small house in the cold north could feel so full of warmth.

The last thing your mother said to you, was that you should be grateful. That your place in the Red Keep was the highest honor your family could ever hope to receive, and that you should do anything to stay here. To be a lady's maid to the queen, was the highest achievement a low born could achieve.

You tried to be, even though your heart yearned for the snowy landscape of your childhood. You wanted to be happy, you were thankful, but you couldn't help the way you missed the north.

So to try and capture just a bit of personal freedom, you would walk the halls at night. It was the only time you could pretend to be somewhere else, even if it was only for a moment. You would close your eyes and imagine yourself somewhere new and exciting, and when you opened them you would be reminded of where you really were.

Tonight you were in a particularly adventurous mood, there was a tourney the next day for Prince Viserys and his wife Aemma to celebrate their wedding. The Red Keep would be full of guests and it would be loud and full of life, you were sure to be very busy, and so you decided to stay up late and postpone sleep for a few more hours.

There was a room in the library that had a view of the city, one you liked to frequent often. It had a large window and a balcony that was rarely used. It was a nice place to go to clear your mind and think about home.

When you entered, nobody was around except for a cat that was perched on the windowsill. She was a lovely thing with black fur and bright green eyes, the perfect color of a dark forest at night.

"Hello, beautiful." You greeted her with a smile and a light stroke along her back. You looked out the window with her at your side, watching the moon reflect off the ocean and the waves crashing against the shore.

The sound of footsteps behind you made you look over your shoulder, your eyes landing on a man with a face that made you stand up straight and bow your head.

"Prince Daemon." You greeted him, not looking up from the floor.

"Young maidens like yourself shouldn't be out so late." He said, stepping closer to you. You didn't dare move or even breathe, his presence made you feel like you were caught doing something wrong.

"I couldn't sleep, my lord," You answered, not meeting his eyes. This was your first real meeting with the prince, but you knew the rumors that surrounded him.

He didn't respond to your answer, instead, he turned his attention towards the view. Leaning against the window, his posture was dismissive, as though you weren't there. He gave you a side glance that read, 'leave,' and so you did, not wanting to get in his way.

"I apologize, I didn't mean to intrude." You said, walking past him, heading towards the doorway.

"You are from the north," he spoke, still looking out into the water.

"Yes, my lord," You answered, stopping when he started speaking.

"How did you find yourself as a maid in the south?" He asked, looking at you, his eyes piercing through you.

The truth of the matter made you feel shameful, even though it was beyond your control. So you decided to tell him what you've been telling everyone.

"I was given as a gift for our new queen," You said, looking down at the floor.

"Is that what they call it?" Daemon laughed, his laugh was as harsh as his voice, the kind of laugh that could cut you open if you let it. "I heard you were given away as payment for a debt."

Your cheeks reddened and you looked at the ground, your throat closing up at the mention of your family's failure. Pride wasn't something you could afford anymore, but you couldn't stop the words that came out of your mouth.

"I didn't realize that princes were so fond of gossip." You said, meeting his eyes, your words were meant to cut, and they did.

He stood up straight, his expression unreadable as he closed the distance between the two of you, towering over you.

"Ahh, so they did sell you." He smirked, looking down at you. "Whoring can make you better coin… recover a debt quicker."

Your hands balled up into fists and you took a step closer, a defiant glare on your face.

He chuckled and tilted his head, he reached out and touched your chin, his hand was soft but firm as he turned your face to look at him.

"With a pretty face like yours, I'm sure you would make quite a bit of coin," His voice was a purr, a seductive growl that made your insides feel tight. "I could show you a better use for those lips."

His words were shockingly vulgar, his voice was rough and commanding and his eyes were hungry, but you didn't move away, you stayed still. You knew the dragon prince was a scandalous man, but you didn't think he would ever be so bold.

"There is no honor in a whore's coin." You answered, pushing his hand away from your face.

"Is there honor in emptying the queen's chamber pot?" He retorted, grinning slightly at how red your cheeks had become.

"Not all of us have the opportunity to choose what sort of honor we can acquire,” You said, standing your ground as best as you could.

He towered over you, his tall frame casting a shadow that almost completely covered you. He wasn't like the king or queen, who were kind and generous. There was something dark and malicious about him, as though the great beasts of his house lurked just below his skin, waiting to come out.

"You have a smart mouth, little northerner." He mused, his eyes drifting down to your lips. "It's a wonder that the queen has not put a gag in it."

"It's a poor quality I have yet to overcome." You responded, pulling away from him and putting some distance between the two of you.

He watched you move away, his eyes following your movements and the shape of your body, making you feel hot.

"I will think of you when I win the tourney tomorrow." He said, his tone smug and confident. "A sweet northern flower to bring back with me."

"You will be bringing back nothing, prince Daemon." You said, your voice a warning.

He laughed and looked at you, his eyes dancing with mischief.

"We'll see about that."

And with those final words, he left the room. You felt flustered and annoyed, a strange mixture of feelings that confused and angered you. You didn't like the prince, but he made your heart race, his voice and his eyes made you feel a strange sense of heat.

You wanted to be disgusted, and yet all you could think about was seeing him again.

It was a hectic morning, with all the knights and guests arriving, and you were late. Your tardiness had earned you a sharp reprimand from your head maid, but you were too distracted by the upcoming event to care.

The prospect of seeing the prince again was something you weren't sure you wanted, but couldn't stop thinking about.

You didn't like the way his eyes lingered on you, or how he made you feel things that shouldn't be felt. The rogue prince was indeed a fitting title, he was a scoundrel and a liar, a man of dishonor.

You thought that maybe he was the sort of person that the south created, perhaps they took people like you and turned them into someone like him. But then again, he wasn't really a southerner, no, he was a dragon.

The sound of cheers and laughter outside made your ears perk up. The queen was already seated with the other royals in their viewing box, and you were in a nearby tent, preparing more wine and food.

The tourney had just begun, and so far the knights had all performed well. You had only been paying a bit of attention, trying to do your job and keep out of the way.

The head maid was a cruel, vindictive woman, and she had been taking out her frustration on you all day. Her temper was short and her hands were rough, she was the kind of woman that would slap your hands or pull your hair if she was upset. But today she decided to simply make your life miserable with her words.

She gave you the worst jobs and the heaviest items to carry, and when she did allow you to stand and rest, she would hit your feet with her broom and tell you to get back to work.

"Once you are finished pouring wine, I want you to go to the prince's tent and serve him." She ordered, her eyes were sharp and her words were harsh.

"The prince has a squire to serve him." You protested, the idea of facing Daemon again made your cheeks turn red.

"The prince requested a woman's company,” She smiled, her eyes looking at you with an almost wicked satisfaction.

"I believe what the prince is looking for can be found on the street of silk, not among the ladies maids." You countered, hoping to change her mind.

"It's an honor to serve the prince, and he has specifically asked for a northern girl." The head maid was adamant, not willing to let this go.

You clenched your jaw and took a deep breath, biting your tongue as you looked at the floor.

"Very well, madam."

You held back tears as you climbed the stairs to the viewing box, pouring wine into the cups. Keeping your eyes low and only lifting them when absolutely necessary as you made your way down the line of royals.

Everyone began to stir and chat as the final round was announced. You turned to face the arena, watching as the prince mounted his horse, the sight of him made your heart flutter.

He was a handsome man, there was no denying that, his long blonde hair was braided and tied back, and his purple eyes were focused and determined.

His horse was a massive stallion, black as night, and he rode him as though they were one. He moved with a grace and confidence that was captivating.

The final round began, the two men charging at each other. You were nervous and excited, not knowing what to expect.

The clash of steel was the only sound in the air, it echoed throughout the entire arena. The crowd was silent, their eyes locked on the scene before them.

The two men passed each other, once, twice, three times. The tension building with each near miss, until finally the two knights clashed again.

Daemon's opponent had a slight edge over him, being bigger and stronger, but Daemon was quicker. But on the fourth pass, his opponent managed to catch him off guard, sending him flying into the dirt.

The crowd gasped, their hands covering their mouths as the prince's horse bucked and ran, leaving him in the dust.

You winced at the sight, it wasn't a good fall. He landed on his back, hard, and he lay still for a moment, his eyes squeezed shut as he caught his breath.

Only when the head maid cleared her throat did you realize you had been holding your breath.

"You are needed in the prince's tent, girl." she commanded, grabbing the jug from your hands and giving you a stern look.

You nodded, taking the tray of food and wine from the table and heading out of the box. Your heart was racing and your palms were sweaty, the thought of seeing Daemon after such a public humiliation was not something you were looking forward to.

The air was alive with the roar of the people, and the thumping of their feet sounded like thunder. They were chanting for the champion, something that would surely upset Daemon even more.

When you got to his tent, you hesitated, taking a moment to calm your nerves. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, letting the noise of the crowd fade away.

You stepped inside, finding him sitting in a chair, his shirt was off and his squire was cleaning a nasty gash on his arm.

"I'm sorry for intruding, Prince Daemon." You said, placing the tray of food on the table and pouring a cup of wine.

"Leave," he barked at his squire, his voice was gruff and his jaw was clenched.

"But my prince-" his squire protested, looking up from the wound he was treating.

"Now."

The boy left quickly, leaving you alone with the brooding prince.

"Would you like some wine, my lord?" You asked, your voice soft and timid, the last thing you wanted was to make him even more upset.

"No," he hissed, his voice sharp as a knife. "Bring me a new shirt."

You did as he asked, walking over to the large chest in the corner. It was full of clothes, the colors and fabrics were fine and beautiful. You selected a clean white shirt and brought it over to him, your eyes focused on the ground.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice was quiet, but it was a demand, not a request.

You lifted your eyes, meeting his gaze. His eyes were cold, the same shade of violet that had captivated you was now a glare.

You did very well, my lord," You tried to reassure him, your voice soft and comforting.

"Is that meant to be comforting?" He asked, his tone was harsh and his expression was a scowl.

"Fine. I have never seen a worse display than the one you put on today," you said, the words slipping from your mouth before you could stop them.

He smiled, then laughed, his shoulders shaking as his amusement grew. Only his brother the king would ever talk to him this way, and here you were, a young low born northerner, mocking him. He didn't know why he enjoyed it coming from you, perhaps it was because your words meant nothing. You were no one, and he was the prince, and yet he found himself intrigued.

"That was quite a show, wasn't it?" He chuckled, the sound was hollow, not at all humorous.

"It was humiliating," you answered, the words escaping before you could stop them.

"Careful," he warned, his eyes narrowing. "You're lucky I find your insolence amusing."

"I thought it was why you had asked for me," you retorted, setting the shirt on the table and taking a step back.

He stood up from the chair, closing the space between the two of you. The air was thick with tension, his eyes boring into yours, his face was inches from yours.

"I didn't lose the tourney," he stated, his voice a low growl.

"You didn't win either," you countered, your cheeks flushed red, your heart racing in your chest.

He smiled, the gesture was almost predatory, he reached out and grabbed your face, his hands were rough and his grip was tight.

"You are quite the mouthy little wench," his words were a harsh whisper, his breath hot against your skin.

You didn't answer, afraid of what he would do if you spoke. He seemed to be enjoying himself, his eyes dancing with amusement as he stared at you.

"On your knees," he ordered, his tone demanding.

"My lord, I-" you protested, trying to pull away.

"Kneel," his voice was louder this time, and you knew that he was not going to repeat himself.

You hesitated for a moment, but he was the prince, and you couldn't disobey him. So you lowered yourself onto your knees, looking up at him, waiting for him to tell you what to do next.

"Is it true that northern girls can take a cock better than southern ones?" He asked, his hand still holding onto your chin.

You didn't know how to respond, his words making your cheeks burn. You could only stare at him, your mind reeling as you tried to figure out what he wanted.

He smiled, and the look in his eyes made your heart race. "Open your mouth, little northerner."

You did as he commanded, your eyes never leaving his. He pushed his thumb past your lips and slowly pressed down onto your tongue, rubbing it in circles before slowly dragging it out.

Your lips parted and your breathing became heavier as he traced his wet thumb across your bottom lip, his eyes fixated on the movement.

"Beautiful." He whispered before sliding his thumb back into your mouth, pushing it all the way into your throat, causing you to gag.

He pulled his thumb from your mouth and wiped the spit off on your cheek before grabbing you by the arms and lifting you up, turning you around and pushing you face first into the table.

"My lord," you gasped, struggling against his strong grip.

Daemon laughed at the look of shock on your face, his cock growing harder at the sight. "See? I knew you would make a great whore," he smirked, his words bringing a flush to your face.

He pulled your dress up, exposing your ass and legs. His hands were rough as he groped you, squeezing your thighs and your cheeks.

You pushed against him, trying to free yourself, but his grip was too strong. He pushed your thighs apart, his hand trailing up to your cunt, his fingers stroking your entrance, teasing you.

He softened at your defiance, a smirk crossing his lips. "I enjoy you, little northerner. Perhaps I should keep you," he mused.

He slid his finger into your cunt, his touch gentle and slow. You whimpered, pushing against him again.

"You would be my little northern flower," he murmured, his finger moving in and out of your cunt, the pace becoming quicker. "A blue rose in my garden."

You were ashamed of how aroused you were, the prince's touch was intoxicating, and you couldn't stop yourself from grinding your hips against his hand. You had never been with a man before and the pleasure he was giving you was beyond anything you had ever felt.

He slid another finger inside of you, his movements quick and rough. You moaned, biting your lip as you felt yourself getting closer to release.

He suddenly pulled away, the sudden absence of his touch made you whimper. He spun you around, knocking objects off the table and pinning you against it. Your hands went to his chest, pushing him back, but his grip was too strong, his eyes filled with lust.

"You're a feisty one," he whispered, his lips trailing down your neck, his hands gripping your ass, lifting you up and pressing you against his hips. "I guess it's true that the fires always burn hotter in the north,"

You shivered as he sucked and bit at the skin on your neck, his teeth scraping across your sensitive flesh, leaving red marks behind. You couldn't help but moan, the feeling was so intense, and the sounds were so sinful.

"My prince... I..." You stuttered, trying to find the words, but he cut you off with a kiss.

The feel of his hands on your body, his lips on yours, his cock hard against you, was intoxicating. You had never felt this way before, this desire, this want. He made you feel like you were drowning in the fire of his touch. He was a dragon, and he would take what he wanted.

You couldn't resist, you gave in, kissing him back, letting his tongue explore your mouth. He smelled of blood, dirt and sweat, a combination that shouldn't have been appealing, but was.

You could taste his lust on your lips, and it made you hungry for more. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing yourself closer to him, and he moaned, the sound rumbling in his chest. He was so much larger than you, so much stronger, and you felt so small in his arms.

His hand trailed down your chest, slowly untying the strings that held up your dress, his fingers tracing over the fabric, teasing you.

"Sweet little northern girl," he teased, his voice a low growl. "Are you going to give yourself to me?"

"Yes," you whispered, your cheeks flushed pink.

He kissed you again, his lips rough and demanding, his hand pushing your dress down, exposing your breasts. "You've never touched yourself before, have you?”

"No, my Prince," you whispered, your little hands curled into his chest, your nails digging into his skin.

"That's alright, I'll show you how it's done."

His hands slid down to your thighs, his fingers trailing up, his touch light and teasing. You let out a gasp as his fingers brushed over your cunt, touching a spot that made your body tremble.

"This little spot right here," he said, rubbing his thumb against it, "is the most sensitive part of your body. The more pressure, the better."

You nodded, gasping and moaning as he pressed his thumb against it, circling it. You could feel the heat rising within you, the pleasure building.

"Feels good doesn't it?" He whispered, his voice husky, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Y-yes," you stuttered, your hips moving, grinding against his hand.

He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine.

"Do you like being my little whore, hmm?" He asked, his lips trailing down your neck, his kisses hot and wet.

"N-no," you moaned, pushing him back, trying to fight against him.

He laughed, his teeth nipping at your collarbone. "Liar," he whispered, his tongue licking over the marks he'd made.

His hands reaching down to his waist, undoing his breeches and pulling them off, his cock springing free. You gasped, your eyes wide as you took in the size of him.

He took your hand and placed it on his cock, his eyes burning into yours. "Go on, feel it," he whispered.

Your fingers curled around his cock, your small hand barely able to fit around him. You moved your hand, sliding it down the length of his shaft, his cock thick and pulsing in your hand. His skin was so warm and smooth, his breathing deepening as you began to move your hand up and down, stroking him slowly.

You could see the scars from battle stretched across his chest and torso. Small claw-like marks around his pectoral and a deep line that stretched down the left side of his rib cage. He was a hardened warrior, and you could tell by his scars, he had been through much to get where he was now.

You squeezed his cock, moving your hand up and down, his breathing deepening and his eyes growing hazy. He watched you, his gaze following every movement you made. You were starting to get more comfortable, taking pleasure in watching him, in making him feel good. You found the nerve to press the pad of your thumb against the tip, feeling the moisture leaking from him.

"Good girl," he praised, his voice low and husky.

You felt a wave of pride, knowing that you were pleasing him, that he liked the way you were touching him. You continued to stroke him, squeezing and pulling at his cock, watching his face, seeing the pleasure on his features.

He groaned, his eyes closing and his head tilting back, his breath catching. You could feel his cock throbbing in your hand, and you knew that he was getting close.

He let out a low growl and grabbed your wrist, halting your movements. "If you keep that up, I'm going to spill my seed all over this pretty little dress of yours," he said, his eyes full of heat.

"Is that so, my lord?" You asked, unable to hide the hint of amusement in your voice.

He grabbed your hips and pulled you under him, his body caging you, trapping you beneath him. He was breathing hard, his face flushed, his cock hard and resting on your stomach. His eyes burned into yours, his gaze intense, his hands gripping your hips, holding you steady.

You weren't talking back anymore, he could see the fear in your eyes, the hesitance, and that only made him want you more. His hand went to your throat, applying gentle pressure, a silent warning.

He could feel you trembling beneath him, and he tightened his grip, a primal, possessive urge rising within him. Your small hands pushing into his chest, clutching at his heated flesh.

"Open for me," he growled, his eyes fixed on yours.

You parted your thighs, allowing him to press closer to you. He growled, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his waist, his cock brushing against your cunt. He felt you tighten, your eyes widening with trepidation.

He chuckled, loving how terrified and eager you were at the same time. He gave you a moment, and then he slowly pushed into you. You whimpered, your nails digging into his back, your eyes closed, your face twisted in pain.

"Breathe," he said, rubbing his thumb against your cheek, "it will hurt for a just moment and then I will make you feel good,"

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you felt his cock hit your maidenhead.

"Are you ready, little northerner?" He whispered.

You gripped his forearms and nodded.

He pushed in slowly, breaking through your barrier. You cried out, the pain was intense and immediate. He groaned, the feel of your tight cunt was intoxicating.

He stayed still, giving you time to adjust. Your nails dug into his arms, leaving deep scratches in his flesh.

"Such a pretty, tight little cunt," he growled, nipping at your neck.

You kept your eyes closed, trying to focus on his words and not the pain. He began to move with slow, deep strokes, his cock stretching you, filling you. He was bigger than he felt in your hands, and you swore you could feel him everywhere.

He moaned, his hips rocking into you, his hand still on your throat, making you feel lightheaded. You looked up at him with wide eyes, your lips parted, your cheeks flushed. You felt so full of him, stretched open, the pain and pleasure mixing into one.

He watched your reaction with a smirk, amused by your shocked, satisfied expression. He was moving slowly, enjoying your warmth and the feel of your cunt clenching around him. He knew you were enjoying it, too, your eyes half-closed, a soft moan escaping your lip. Your small frame was arched to his body, your hands holding on to his neck.

You were surprised at his gentleness. You'd heard that the dragon prince liked to rough up women, but he was being as careful as if you were made of spun sugar. You felt so small and helpless underneath him, his large body nearly engulfing yours, and yet he wasn't hurting you. His touch was delicate, reverent. The way he spoke to you, calling you pet names, made your heart skip a beat.

You arched against him, a soft cry leaving your lips as his strokes got faster, deeper, hitting a place inside you that sent a sharp, hot pleasure through you.

"Does my little northerner like her prince's cock?" He said, a laugh in his voice, he began to pick up the pace, pounding into you.

You squeaked and pushed on his chest, the sensations becoming too much. He grabbed your hips and held you still, fucking you hard and fast, his eyes full of fire.

You felt your release rising up inside you, the tension in your body winding tighter and tighter. You could feel yourself clamping down on his cock, the pleasure almost too much, the sweet pain sending you over the edge.

He groaned at the sight of you coming undone, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you shattered around him. He could feel the tension in your muscles as your climax tore through you. He slowed his movements, easing out the last waves of pleasure, drawing it out until you were a shuddering, moaning mess.

He was close behind, his thrusts erratic, his breathing harsh. He pulled out and spilled his seed across your stomach, his hips bucking. He pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, a contented sigh leaving his lips. At least he had one victory today.

Your face was hot with shame, your mind unable to comprehend what just happened. The prince's seed was cooling on your stomach and chest, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. Your hands went to your face, covering it as tears came to your eyes, you had never felt so good and so embarrassed at once.

He moved off of you, his eyes locked on yours, a smirk crossing his lips. He looked satisfied, his gaze wandering over your body, lingering on the wetness between your legs, the mess he'd made of you. He tossed you a cloth to clean yourself with. You wiped his seed off your skin, watching him dress, his blonde hair still braided back, his purple eyes full of lust and desire. He was a warrior, a dragon, he was beauty and strength, power and masculinity. He was everything you wanted and feared, a beast who could destroy you.

He gave you a side glance, his eyes full of amusement. "You may go," he said, shooing you away with a hand.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, as you took a shaky breath. You stood up, gathering the pieces of your dress and your underclothes. Your legs were wobbly, and you felt weak, sore, and full of shame.

"Yes, my prince," you said quietly, looking at the floor, unable to meet his eyes.

He chuckled, the sound of his voice making you shiver. "Don't be so timid, little northerner. This is the beginning, not the end," he said, his words sending a jolt of fear and excitement through you.

He was right, this was only the beginning. You were his servant, and he could do with you as he pleased. He would have you come to him whenever he chose, on the warmest summer nights and the coldest winter days. He would take what he wanted, when he wanted.

He was a dragon, and his will was as strong as his blood.

And deep down, you knew you would enjoy it. He was the perfect thing to distract you from the mundanity of your life, the endless monotony of serving others.

Perhaps the Red Keep wouldn't be so terrible, not if it meant serving him.

[its-avalon-08]

I need some angst and hurt comfort right now. I was wondering if you could write something with Lando and his long term girlfriend and she’s pregnant and Lando has been very busy with racing and stuff that one day when she says she’s going to an appointment to get a scan for the baby Lando resizes that he hasn’t been to a scan ever. Only like to the first two. And he’s like guilty and stuff and more guilty when he relies that his girlfriend is use to it. Happy ending please.

I hope that makes sense. I just thought you would be good to write it as I love all your work. 💕

every scan, every kick (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, absent lando, tears, fluff

First Trimester

Y/N sat in the waiting room of the clinic, anxiously tapping her foot. She kept glancing at her phone, hoping for a text or call from Lando. It was their second scan, and she was excited to share this moment with him. She finally saw a text pop up.

Sorry, babe. The meeting ran over. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Love you.

Her heart sank, but she forced a smile. She knew he was busy, but it still hurt. She went in alone, the excitement dulled without him by her side.

Second Trimester

Y/N stood in the kitchen, trying to reach a jar on the top shelf. She had texted Lando earlier to help her when he got home. Hours passed, and she finally managed to get the jar down herself.

She heard the front door open and Lando's voice calling out, "Y/N, I'm home!"

She turned to see him, his face tired but smiling. "Hey, I’m sorry I’m late. The meeting with the sponsors ran longer than expected."

"It’s okay," she said softly, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

Another Missed Scan

Y/N sat on the exam table, her hand resting on her belly. The technician smiled at her kindly. "Is your partner joining us today?"

"He’s… he’s running late," Y/N said, her voice wavering slightly. "We can start."

The scan showed the baby moving, but Y/N’s eyes were filled with unshed tears. She took a picture home for Lando, but it wasn’t the same.

Nursery Preparations

Y/N was painting the nursery, struggling to reach the higher spots. She had hoped Lando would be there to help, but he was away at a race. Her phone buzzed with a text.

Won the race! Wish you were here. Love you.

She smiled, genuinely happy for him, but the loneliness crept in. She continued painting, the room coming together, but the joy was tinged with sadness.

Doctor’s Appointment

Y/N sat in the waiting room, rubbing her belly absentmindedly. She was here for a routine check-up. The receptionist called her name, and she went in alone, the familiar ache of Lando’s absence gnawing at her.

The Breakdown

Y/N sat at the kitchen table, her eyes red from crying. She had tried to hold it together, but the loneliness and the weight of going through her pregnancy mostly alone had finally broken her. Kelly, P and Max had come over for a visit, sensing she needed company.

Kelly sat beside her, rubbing her back soothingly. “Y/N, talk to us. What’s going on?”

Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to compose herself. “It’s just… Lando. He’s always so busy with racing and everything. I understand his career is important, but… I feel so alone.”

Max leaned against the counter, his face filled with concern. “He’s missing a lot, isn’t he?”

Y/N nodded, tears streaming down her face. “He missed the last scan. And the baby’s first kick. I texted him, but he’s always so caught up in meetings or races. I try to be supportive, but… it’s so hard.”

Kelly pulled her into a hug. “It’s okay to feel this way, Y/N. You’re doing this alone, and it’s not fair. You deserve to have him by your side.”

Y/N sobbed into Kelly’s shoulder. “I don’t want to be a burden. I know how important his career is.”

Max stepped closer, his voice gentle. “You’re not a burden, Y/N. You’re his partner and the mother of his child. He should be there for you.”

Kelly continued to comfort her. “You need to talk to him, Y/N. He needs to understand how much this is affecting you.”

Y/N pulled back, wiping her tears. “I’ve tried, but he’s always so busy. I feel like I’m losing him.”

Max crouched down beside her, taking her hand. “Lando loves you, Y/N. He just needs a wake-up call. He needs to realize what he’s missing before it’s too late.”

Kelly nodded. “You’re doing an amazing job, Y/N. But you shouldn’t have to do it alone. We’re here for you, and we’ll help you talk to Lando.”

Y/N took a deep breath, feeling slightly better with their support. “Thank you. I just… I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.”

Kelly smiled softly. “We’re family, Y/N. We’ll always be here for you.”

Max squeezed her hand reassuringly. “And we’ll make sure Lando understands what’s at stake. You deserve to be happy and supported.”

Y/N nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope. With friends like Kelly and Max, she knew she had the strength to face the challenges ahead. They stayed with her, offering comfort and support, as she prepared herself to have the difficult conversation with Lando.

Y/N and Daniel Ricciardo sat at the dining table, laughing and chatting over a cup of tea. Daniel had stopped by to catch up, and the conversation had naturally drifted to the baby. Lando had just gotten home from a long day at the track, and he walked into the lively discussion. "Hey, guys," Lando said, dropping his bag by the door and joining them at the table.

"Hey, mate," Daniel greeted, smiling warmly. "We were just talking about the little one. How's the baby cooking, Y/N?"

Y/N smiled, her hand resting on her belly. "Pretty good. The baby’s been very active lately."

"Yeah, you mentioned that at the last scan," Daniel said. "Didn't you say the baby kicked like a future football star? And the doctor said everything is progressing perfectly, right?"

Lando’s smile faltered. "You went to the last scan?" he asked Daniel, trying to keep his tone casual. "No, I didn’t," Daniel replied, a bit puzzled. "Y/N was just telling me about it. I just thought you had been there. We just chat pretty often, you know?"

"Oh, right," Lando said, his voice tight. "Y/N told you."

Daniel, sensing the tension, tried to lighten the mood. "Yeah, mate. She even showed me the picture from the last scan. Your kid's got a strong heartbeat. Future racer, right?"

Lando forced a chuckle, but the guilt was bubbling inside him. "Yeah, definitely."

Y/N looked at Lando, noticing the strain in his expression. "Lando, it’s okay. I know you’ve been busy."

"No, it’s not okay," Lando said, his voice cracking. "Daniel knows more about our baby than I do. I haven’t been there, Y/N. I’ve missed so much."

Daniel sensed the need for privacy and stood up. “I’ll leave you two to talk. I’ll see you both later.” He gave Lando a reassuring pat on the back before leaving.

As the door closed, Lando sank into the couch, his head in his hands. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’ve missed so much.”

She sat beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Lando, I know your career is demanding. I understand.”

“But it’s not enough,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’ve missed scans, kicks... moments I can’t get back. And it took Daniel fucking knowing more about our baby than I do to make me realize how absent I’ve been.”

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes. “Lando, you’re here now. That’s what matters.”

“No, Y/N, it’s not enough. I’ve been so focused on racing that I forgot what’s truly important. You and our baby are my priority. I’ve been selfish, and I’m so, so sorry.”

She hugged him tightly, tears streaming down her face. “We love you, Lando. We just need you here with us.”

He held her close, his own tears falling freely. “I promise, Y/N. I’ll be here. I’ll make it right. I love you both more than anything.”

They sat there, holding each other, the weight of their emotions filling the room. Lando knew he had a long way to go, but he was determined to make up for the lost time. For Y/N and their baby, he would be present, supportive, and the partner they deserved.

Lando and Y/N sat on the couch, the glow of the TV casting a soft light in the room. They had just finished dinner, and the weight of the day’s emotional conversations hung in the air. Lando had apologized, and Y/N had accepted, but the raw emotions still lingered.

They were watching a movie, but neither of them was really paying attention. Lando held Y/N close, her head resting on his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair, his heart heavy with guilt and love.

“Y/N,” Lando whispered, his voice trembling. “I’m so sorry. I should have been there for you. I missed so much, and I hate myself for it.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with understanding. “Lando, you’re here now. That’s what matters. We can’t change the past, but we can make sure you’re here for the future.”

Lando’s eyes filled with tears. “I love you so much, Y/N. More than anything. I don’t ever want you to feel alone again.”

She cupped his face, wiping away his tears with her thumb. “I know you do, Lando. And I love you too. We’ll get through this together.”

Lando’s tears began to flow more freely. “I just feel like I’ve let you down. You deserve so much better.”

Y/N shook her head, her own eyes welling up. “You’re an amazing partner, Lando. Yes, it’s been hard, but I believe in us. I believe in you.”

Lando pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair. “I’m going to be there for every moment from now on. Every kick, every scan, every little thing. I promise.”

Y/N held him tightly, her heart aching with both sadness and love. “I know you will. We’ll make it work.”

They stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, the movie playing softly in the background. Lando’s tears eventually subsided, replaced by a deep sense of resolve. He kissed the top of Y/N’s head, his heart swelling with love and determination.

“Thank you for believing in me,” he whispered.

She looked up at him, her eyes shining with love. “Thank you for coming back to us.”

Lando leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. “I’ll never leave you again.”

They continued to cuddle, the warmth of their love and commitment wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. As the night wore on, they talked about their dreams for the future, the plans for their baby, and how they would face everything together. Lando knew he had a lot to make up for, but with Y/N by his side, he felt ready to take on anything.

As they drifted off to sleep, still entwined on the couch, Lando whispered one last promise. “I love you, Y/N. Always and forever.”

She smiled, her heart full. “I love you too, Lando. Always and forever.

[formula1blog]

The food challenge

F2! Logan Sargeant x F2! reader x F2! Oscar Piastri

Original video on youtube

"Hello everyone, I'm Y/N, and this is the Prema Formula 2 food challenge. I'll be feeding my friends Oscar and Logan Sargeant, and they'll have to guess what they're eating without seeing it." You wave and pointed to the two boys standing next to me, and Oscar smiled politely. Logan, on the other hand, looked happy to be here.

"So excited," Oscar said sarcastic and the american just laughed at him.

"Oscar and I both wear blindfolds so we don't see the food." Logan explains as you hand both of them a pair of cat blind folds. The looked quite stupid.

As the boys put on the blindfolds, you grab the aprons that angelina gave you to put on the boys so they don't mess up their team clothing. "How does this work?" you look at it for some time before figuring it out.

handed them each a pair of cat blindfolds. "We'll both be wearing blindfolds so we won't see what we're eating," Logan explained. Oscar nodded in understanding.

You opened the first plate, revealing a plate of marshmallows. You picked one up and brought it to Logan's mouth. "Open up, Logan," You said, and he took a bite. "That's amazing!" he exclaimed, making Oscar and me laugh.

"You have to try and explain to Oscar what it is." you remember him as he takes a second Marshmallow of the fork that you still held into the air.

Logan thought for a moment before responding, "It's white and you held it over a fire." It wasn't hard for Oscar to guess; he immediately replied, "A marshmallow!" I clapped my hands together in excitement. "Yes, one point for Oscar!"

"Can i have another one?" Logan ask, and you just laugh as you put a new one into his mouth.

"I really like marshmallows." he tried to say while he chewed on his candy.

The next plate was opened, revealing a spoonful of licorice. I knew Logan wasn't a fan of licorice, so it took some effort to get him to take a spoonful. His face contorted in disgust as he chewed. "That's disgusting! How can you do that to me?" he said, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"What is it?" Oscar asked and you look at him with a questioned face, "that is what you are supposed to ques, kangaroo." he just shakes his head at the nickname before Logan starts explaining.

"Italians love it; they have it every morning." However, his description was far off from the actual food.

Oscar guessed again, saying, "Espresso? Coffee beans?" Logan agreed enthusiastically, but I shook my head. "That's not right."

"I have it wrong." Logan asks confused.

"Yes. That is what not having it right means." you show the plate tothe camera, "It was liquorice"

Oscar asked, "How do you confuse that with coffee beans."

Logan shrugged, "It tasted the same."

Now it was Oscar's turn to try and guess. You grabbed the next plate and opened it, revealing a sliced lemon. As Oscar took a bite, his face scrunched up in distaste. "Ugh! Why do I get this one?" He groaned at the sour taste.

"It is sour and-" before Oscar could finish explaining Logan quested, "A sour patch?'

"No. Let me finish my sentence."

"If it was it wouldn't have counted because Osc said half of the word."

Logan just seemed to realised that too.

"It is sour and yellow. It grows on a three,"

"A lemon." Logan exclaimed and Oscar and you agree.

The boys took off their blindfolds and went to stand next to you again.

"This was the Prema food challenge. We hope you like it, I did certain ." You smile and recivied two hand slaps on your arms.

---

Tag list: @hiireadstuff @nikfigueiredo @elliott-calls @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e

[phyrestartr]

Heyyy I'm not sure if you take requests but I have an idea-

Reincarnated! Husband sukuna x Dead spouse (husband) Male Reader: this one is kind of like sukuna fucks up a lot, I think this can work out as an omegaverse? He cheats, fucks around, or doesn't even give af about m reader who is his fated pair, but then m! reader died and since they were mated he's like “shit I can't live without him” so he tries to be good to him the next life and they have happy family the end.

Replay (This Time I'll Get It Right) | Sukuna x Male!Reader (Part 1 of 2)

W/C: 1.6k #alpha!sukuna, omega!reader, mentions of suicide, mentions of murder, ABO dynamics, mentions of stalking, mentions of toxic exes, sukuna sucks, sukuna sucks less eventually, reincarnation, next lives, angst, drama, hurt/comfort, toxic relationships, infidelity/cheating

NOTE: Thank you for your patience!! It's still not quite done, but I wanted to post the first part up while i think of the rest of the story (got a vague idea of how it'll go, so should come out soon). Ty for the req!

tags: @kamote-kuneho @prettorett @memedealer-exe @tr4nniez @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @memedealer-exe @silvern1006

♪ Here With Me - d4vd

♪ Watch the sunrise along the coast

As we’re both getting old ♪

Sukuna puffed on a cigarette, staring out at the city lights. You always liked coming here, to this little cliff hanging above the city–especially when you were stuck on lyrics or tabs of whatever song you were working on. This hillside spot was cheesy and stupid, but you loved the way it felt like an old-school chick flick when you drove up here in your beater.

In this spot, Sukuna realized you had an old soul, one that basked in the simple, mundane things like stargazing and city-watching. It was a step away from feeding pigeons in the park, your producer decided. The way that made you laugh still sent his heart on a wild chase. That, too, was the first moment he realized he wanted you more than just a collaborator. 

And, maybe, if he had pushed aside the partying, the drugs, the women, he might’ve bothered checking his phone. He might’ve been able to apologize for wrongs done and words said, to get back on the right track. He might've not found out about you on the news. Maybe he could have given you everything you wanted–

But he couldn’t. Not anymore. 

♪ I can’t describe what I’m feeling

And all I know is we’re going home ♪

Even after locking you down and starting on that stupid journey to start a family, his spirit still yearned to wander free. 

So it did. 

Primal wants controlled him. He allowed them to steer him away from the safety of your touch and into the gnashing jaws of excitement, of danger. All because the two of you were starting to make it–you were starting to leave your mark on this world, and Sukuna let the fame and greed get to him. 

But how could he not jump at the chance to fuck the famous and infamous? How could he stay faithful to just you, a smalltown boy, when big city celebrities reached out to him, pulling him into big deals and bigger beds? How could he–

His phone blitzed to life again, ringing in the hollow quiet of a too-expensive car. The call went to voicemail, leaving him in the pits of Tartarus again, drowning in the frigid rain beating against his car windows like a million bullets trying to seek the death penalty.

Did angels do that? Take revenge for their own kind? He’d understand it. Jin, an angel in his own right, exiled his Luciferian twin from the celestial plane, barring him from what was left of that tiny spark of love and hope he called “family.” 

♪ So please don’t let me go, oh

Don’t let me go ♪

His phone rang again. He remembered picking it up once upon a time, listening to your shaky voice as you told him the worst and best news he’d ever heard in his entire existence: “I’m pregnant.” 

Sukuna didn’t know what true fear and excitement were until that moment. You laughed through waterworks, lifted by Sukuna’s uncontrolled motor-mouthing and celebrating as he hooted and hollered on the other line. The women your husband was with gave him weird looks, but he didn’t care–you were pregnant. You were going to–

You were going to have his kid. His pup. A shared little joy, a spark of hope for the future. And then–then someone took that away. 

The sorry waste of life, the obsessive ex you vehemently feared, left behind a note for whomever found the tragedy: “I'll take care of them from now on.”

Sukuna knew there had to be more to it, there had to be more of an explanation, but the media wasn't interested; they only wanted to use and abuse your name and face for articles and news reports, not to reminisce on you nor the woe of a murder-suicide.

How come no one cared? Why did no one fucking care?

♪ Save your tears, it’ll be okay

All I know is you’re here with me ♪

He snapped. Sukuna kicked the dashboard. His boot cracked against the console again and again and again until your siren song died in a quick fit of static. He crashed his heel into the broken screen a dozen more times, each impact punching shout after shout out of his tight throat as the weight of the fucking sky collapsed on him. He wasn’t Atlas. He couldn’t hold it up. He never could, not by himself.

Sukuna heaved in breaths. His stomach swirled and churned with nausea. He held his head and leaned back, screaming into the thunder that shook the world with a vital roar, hiding heartbroken howls.

Why? Why? Why? 

“Deep breaths, Sukuna,” your voice cooed. It came from the darkness, from the forgotten corners of his mind. Why were–ah, right. He’d been here before, overcome with agony and grief. Unable to breathe, unable to cope, unable to exist.  

He followed your instructions. 

“In. Out. In. Out.”

In. Out. In. Out.

The phone rang again. Sukuna answered. He hoped whoever it was would tell him this was all just a bad joke. A bad dream. It wasn’t real. 

“Finally,” Wasuke sighed on the other end of the line. “Kid, where the fuck are you?”

Sukuna stared up at the roof of the car. Words smeared and oozed like molasses in his mind. He couldn’t understand the words he knew he could understand. 

“Sukuna.” 

“What the fuck do I do?” Sukuna asked. His voice quivered. Chipped and cracked.

His father fell quiet. But he was wise. So fucking wise and so good at everything that came with life and death, morality and love. 

“Become a better man,” he said, like it was so simple. 

Sukuna scoffed. “H-How the fuck–”

“Quiet, kid.” Wasuke sighed. “That boy loved you. He had faith in you as a partner and a father. Remember that. Honour that, and become the man he knew you could be.”

Sukuna didn’t know his heart could break more, but it did. 

He sobbed. To his father, to himself, to you, to that unborn joy, to whatever fuckhead created life and love in the first place. He cried for forgiveness, for a second shot. 

“I’ll try,” Sukuna bit out. “I’ll try.” 

–

♪ I wish I could live through every memory again

Just one more time before we float off in the wind ♪

Sukuna woke up to that song. It was the same one that played in his nightmares, the same one that robbed him of sleep until he lost his mind and–and–

“What the fuck happened?” Sukuna croaked to whatever singing nymph fluttered around him. 

The damn song stopped, leaving Sukuna in just a second of tumultuous silence. 

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

The rhythmic chirping of some machine–a heart monitor, maybe? A metronome?--kicked up into double time, jamming an ice pick into his skull further and further with every hellish second that passed by. He could almost hear the radio static, the warp of a ballad calling to him. And it wouldn't stop. It wouldn't stop. Why wouldn't it stop? Why? Why? Why?

“Hey,” your voice cooed. Your hand rested atop of Sukuna's and squeezed. “Can you hear me?” 

Sukuna cracked a tired eye open to look up at you; you were perfect. God-given. A blessing he needed to see right now with your gentle eyes and kind smile, the gentle scent of lavender and vanilla cutting through the disgusting sterility of the room. 

“Can hear you,” Sukuna rasped. His hand tried to turn to hold yours, and you helped by slipping your palm into his. His heart rate slowed with the rhythm of the machine. 

You nodded and covered your clasped hands with your other one. “Good. You probably don't remember, but you were in an accident. A car side-swiped you when you were on your motorcycle.”

“No shit.” 

“Yes shit. But you're alright. Would recommend wearing a helmet from now on.” You pat his hand before slipping both of yours free. “I'll call the doctor and your family. They'll be glad to know you're awake, Itadori-san.” 

He wanted to ask you to stay. He didn't want you to go, not right then, maybe not at all. 

But you flashed him another comforting smile and slipped out of the room before he could object.

–

His father came by. Jin and his son, too. Uraume and Yorozu scolded him for not wearing a helmet. The ragtag group of hooligans he unfortunately associated with (just for the sake of going to their fancy-ass parties, he reasoned) came and went, too; Gojo gave him headaches, Getou made it worse, Ieiri wasn’t so bad.

Then there was you. You were always humming some sort of tune, whether it be the song from his nightmares or something he'd never heard before. Sukuna liked it, the sound of your voice, but you'd always clam up the second you realized someone might hear. 

It led him to pretend to be asleep far too many times during his recovery. Your songs eased his wildfire spirit, let it simmer down and curl up comfortably in a ring of stones to keep those near safe and warm without the fear of being burned alive. Hell, they could probably even make some s’mores if they wanted. 

Eventually, though, Sukuna wanted to know more. And what better person to ask than the burgeoning med student herself?

“Oh, [Name]?” Ieiri asked, sitting beside Sukuna’s bed and looking over the machines connected to Sukuna with rapt attention. “He’s a new-ish nurse from what I get. Pretty cute, huh? Apparently passed his exams no problem and–” 

Sukuna rolled his eyes. “If you don’t know relevant shit then just–”

“He’s single. Omega. Likes men. Kinda older than us. Gojo and Getou got rejected already.” 

That shut Sukuna up. 

[hemmingsleclerc]

Charles proposing to us (we’re a super famous singer so also the public’s reactions). But overall how he’d do it, his family’s reactions, the grids reactions, etc. If you’d be up for it, maybe x male reader - but if you’re not female reader is fine :)

Happy ending ┃charles leclerc

pairing(s): charles leclerc x male!reader

fc: jonathan bailey

a/n:such a cute request, just fluff and cried while writing it, hope u like it 🤍🫶🏻🫧🐚🌊

Charles had been planning this moment for months. Ever since he met Y/N, he knew that he was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Y/N, a world famous singer, had stolen his heart with his kind soul and the way he made him laugh and completely understood him. That night, at his concert, he was going to propose.

The lights went down in the arena and the crowd went wild as Y/N took the stage. Many celebrities were there to see the concert as well. Charles was backstage, pacing nervously, holding the small velvet box that contained the ring and mentally repeating the speech he had prepared while his heart pounded in his chest.

Halfway through the set, Y/N paused to catch his breath and address the audience. "Thank you all for being here tonight. This next song is very special to me and I hope you enjoy it." The first notes of the piano filled the air and as Y/N began to sing, Charles walked to the side of the stage.

When the song ended, Y/N looked at the audience without realizing that Charles was walking right towards him, with a microphone in hand, a little nervous as the audience went crazy for his presence..

"Hello, everyone," Charles said, his voice shaking as he laughed nervously. "I'm sorry to interrupt this incredible moment, but I have something very important to ask." He turned to Y/N, his eyes filled with love and adoration. "From the moment I met you, I knew my life would never be the same. You are my best friend and the love of my life. I can't imagine spending another day without you by my side." While Charles was saying all this, Y/N couldn't believe it.

He then knelt down as he pulled the small box out of his suit pocket and the crowd erupted in cheers, feeling lucky to witness this live. Y/N covered his mouth in shock. "Will you marry me?" Charles asked, opening the box to reveal a stunning diamond ring.

Y/N answered yes happily, unable to speak, he stood him up and kissed him passionately and hugged him lovingly. The crowd went crazy.

Backstage, Charles's family watched the proposal on a monitor. Pascale, his mother, was in tears, hugging Arthur and Lorenzo tightly. "I'm so happy for him," she said, her voice choked with emotion. "They are perfect for each other, I am happy that he never listened to those comments and decided to be happy for who he is, love is love, and no one has to forbid it.''

On the grid, news of the proposal spread quickly. Lando couldn't contain his excitement, jumping up and down and shouting, "Yes! Finally!" Max smiled hugely and quickly congratulated Charles. Pierre was smiling from ear to ear and clapping his hands vigorously on the verge of shedding a few tears, he just was so happy for his best friend.

And then there was Sebastian, who had always been like a father to Charles. He called to congratulate him personally. "I always told you to follow your heart, Charles. You deserve all the happiness in the world, no one can tell you what to do or who to be, love is for everyone and I am deeply proud and happy that you have found your person."

ynln and charles_leclerc

Liked by pierregasly, arianagrande and 17,582,837 others

charles_leclerc finally I married my best friend, love you endlessly 🤍🤍🤍

ynln 🤍❗️💍

zendaya so happy for both 🥹👏🏻

blakelively 😍❤️❤️

taylorswift I ADORE YOU!!! CONGRATULATIONS 💕💕

landonorris I’m sobbing, love you guys

pierregasly so proud of you charles, you really found your other half 👏🏻

arianagrande OH MY GOD!!!! I can’t even express how proud, happy and enchanted I am for u two, you’re truly made for one another 💕🫧🫶🏻 I love you both so dearly and wish you the very best 💐🌈💌

[moonselune]

Hello. May I get an Astarion x Tav story? Tav was secretly creating a blanket for Astarion by themselves, but he sees them working on it. Instead of immediately revealing that it's for him, they have him help make it until it's finished. 💕

Awwwwwwwwwww I love this xx

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion x gn!reader : Sewn

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You had been secretly working on a special gift for Astarion—a finely crafted blanket. Each night, after everyone else had fallen asleep, and you were Astarion was out on his nightly hunt, you would take out the materials you had gathered from the day and quietly work on your project. The blanket was a tapestry of your shared adventures, each patch representing a memory or a place you had visited together. You were determined to finish it without him knowing, eager to surprise him with a gift that carried so much meaning. The gods knew he deserved it.

One evening, while you were diligently sewing a particularly intricate pattern, Astarion flounced into your tent, complaining that there was nothing good out in the woods to eat, eyelashes batting and a persuasive pout on his lips, intending to ask you for a little nibble.

“It's a travesty, truly I'm going to starve - Oh darling! What are you working on?” Astarion asked, his voice smooth and curious as he walked over to you.

You quickly tried to hide the blanket under your clothes you had laid out for tomorrow, but it was too late. His beady eyes had already latched on to it.

“Oh, just a little project. Nothing special,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

Astarion raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips. “A little project, you say? It looks rather intricate for something trivial.”

Caught, you sighed and decided to take a different approach. “Alright, you caught me. It’s a blanket, and I could use some help with it. Care to join?”

His curiosity piqued, Astarion sat down beside you. “A blanket? How intriguing. What’s the occasion?”

You smiled mysteriously, not ready to reveal the full truth. “Let’s just say it’s for someone very special.”

Astarion’s eyes sparkled with interest as he took a seat next to you, and you handed him some thread and fabric. "Alright then, gods knows you need by help your thread work is positively backwards- ."

"-You don't have to help, me Astarion," You playfully chided him and he huffed settling down, not wanting to get kicked out of your tent. You smiled and the two of you worked in tandem, a bit of gossip shared between you.

As the days went by, Astarion grew more invested in the 'project'. You both spent hours working side by side, sharing the trials and tribulations of the day with each other. The blanket gradually took shape, and you had to admit that perhaps Astarion was a better sewer than you.

One evening, as the fire crackled and the blanket was nearly complete, Astarion paused, looking at the almost-finished product. “You know, this blanket is quite beautiful. Whoever it’s for is very fortunate indeed.”

You smiled, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness. “Very fortunate indeed, in face look here, Astarion," Taking a deep breath, you laid the blanket out in front of him. “This blanket is for you, Astarion. Every patch, every stitch, it’s all to remind you of our journey together.”

Astarion’s eyes widened in surprise, then softened with an emotion you rarely saw—vulnerability. “For me?” he whispered, his voice almost trembling.

“Yes,” you said, taking his hands in yours. “I wanted to give you something that shows how much you mean to me. How much our time together has meant.”

For a moment, Astarion was silent, his eyes tracing the patterns and symbols on the blanket. Then, a slow smile spread across his face. “You crafty minx,” he murmured, pulling you into a gentle embrace. “You’ve managed to surprise me, and darling, that’s no easy feat.”

You laughed, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Like it?” Astarion shook his head, his eyes shining with affection. “I love it. And I love you, my dear.”

Little short wholesome piece for y'all, hope you all enjoyed it - Seluney xox

[ironstrange1991]

The Goatee Problem

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 0,600k

Warnings: None, just fluff.

A/N: This is just a small blurb I came up with instead of finishing my Defender smut. Didn't want to end the month with nothing so I am posting this. Hope you guys like it and have a short but very nice reading.

"Believe me, you don't want to see this"

Stephen's voice sounded a bit shaky and nervous and his insistence that you do not go into the bathroom had you worried.

"Stephen, just tell me what happened. Are you hurt?"

You tried again to open the door and this time he didn't try to stop you from entering.

He was standing by the sink, but he turned his face so you couldn't see him in the mirror's reflection. You walked over hugging him from behind and he sighed "My hands... are shaking more than usual today... I shouldn't have tried..."

He turned to you, his face still smeared with shaving foam, but the goatee you were so used to was gone. "I had no alternative but..."

"Oh..." Was all you managed to say before bursting out laughing. Stephen frowned slightly offended.

"That's why I didn't want you to see me like this" He said pulling the towel from his shoulder and wiping his face.

He was gorgeous. Of course it was weird to see him without the goatee, but he was still handsome without it.

"I am not laughing at how you look, but at all the drama you are making."

You caressed his strangely smooth face, your index finger tracing around his lips and down to his chin. Stephen's skin was extremely soft.

"I've had my goatee for years, I don't even recognize myself without it."

You nodded, still distracted by how much the sight of Stephen in that different way was messing with you. "Well, I can't complain, you're still as hot as ever"

His face flushed with your compliment which made the whole situation even cuter. You pulled him to your lips and the feel of his smooth skin was different and interesting at the same time. He seemed taken aback by the intensity of your kiss and he was the one who broke the kiss to breathe.

"Don't get me wrong, Steph. I want the goatee back and you're going to have to put up with Wong and America's jokes for a month, but it's not all bad"

He didn't seem to understand where there could be a bright side to that tragedy and you made sure to make that clear when you kissed him again and continued to kiss the corner of his lips, running your lips up his cheeks  until you reached his ear and licked his earlobe with the tip of your tongue before whispering "I'm sure it will feel very interesting between my legs"

He glanced at you completely intrigued as you pulled away and walked towards the bedroom.

"Did you like it then?" He asked still unsure.

You chuckled "Yes I did. Besides I'm sure in another universe there must be a version of you without the goatee."

He took a good look in the mirror and shook his head as if trying to encourage himself. "You're right, it isn't so bad."

"Don't get too excited tiger, I want my goatee back as soon as possible or you'll be sleeping on the couch." You warned.

“How do I face Wong and America now?” He asked, his voice sounding completely mortified “Shit, can’t let Stark see me like this.”

“Good lucky with that.” You said laughing while leaving the room.

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

BACK TO DOCTOR STRANGE MASTERLIST

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[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

SUB SLASH SUBBY SLASH SUBMISSIVE SAUL HUDSON SUB SUB SUB WHINY WHIMPERING NEEDY DESPERATE PRAISE KINK SUBMISSIVE SLASH!!!!!!!!

thanks 🎀

A/n: This almost took a completely different turn but I'm quite happy with how this turned out <3

Also, sorry I haven't been posting in a while I have over 70 asks in my inbox rn and I'm trying to write them I swear I'm just really slow lol but I am writing, I promise :')

Warnings: Smut, edging, pantie stealing/gagging?, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Slash had been on tour the past few months, usually while he was on tour you guys would call and get off on each other's voices, moans and sometimes commands. But you had plans this time, evil plans.

He wasn't cumming for the whole tour, it was short only about three months, sure enough he could handle that, right?

Anytime you were on call you'd make up some excuse for leaving, only after edging him for as long as you could, sometimes hours. You told him to be a good boy and not touch himself unless you told him to.

He'd come whining to you every day over the phone. "Please, please, can I cum now?" He ask, tears brimming his eyes, his dick hot and pulsing in his hand.

"Mm, you know what?" You'd start, hearing the small sigh of relief. "I'm actually feeling pretty tired right now, I think I might just go to sleep." You'd hear his soft whimpers over the phone, knowing he'd have to stop now.

"Mommy, please..."

"Good night, I love you." You'd say and hang up.

He was coming home tonight and you couldn't wait, you knew he couldn't either. As soon as he pulled up to the driveway you ran to the door.

The door opened and Slash practically fell onto you, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you tight to him as his lips crashed around yours. He'd dropped his luggage and was whining into the kiss. You couldn't not laugh at his excitement.

You tried to pull away from he kept pulling you back for more. "Slash!" You giggled, he rolled his eyes and let you speak. "Why don't you go upstairs and I'll bring your luggage up?" He huffed but went anyway.

You waited for him to get most of the way up the stairs, watching him sulk away all pouty, before closing the door and bringing up his luggage.

You got through your bedroom door and saw Slash by the clothes hamper, a pair of your panties in his hand and pushed to his nose, in his other hand was his already leaky cock.

"Aw, couldn't even wait for me to get in the room, huh?" Slash spun around at your words and just shook his head. You made your way over to the bed, sitting on the edge and patting the spot next to you.

Slash hurried over, ridding himself of his flimsy button up and leather pants. He sat next to you, back against the headboard and you sat between his spread legs, his dick hitting his abdomen.

You took the panties from him, a black lace pair you'd been wearing on one of your late night calls, and brought it back to his face, pushing them into his mouth and he happily accepted the gag. "You want to cum?" He nodded, tears already forming in his eyes. "Show me how good you can be, then."

His breath hitched as you gently ran a finger along his length. Of course you weren't just going to give it to him, what fun would that be? No, tonight would be filled with just as much teasing as any other.

"Oh, aren't you my good boy?" You asked, pumping him at a painfully slow pace as you had been the past few minutes, watching every small reaction he had, how his chest slowly fell with a shaky breath leaving him.

He was barely holding back his tears at that point, pre leaking from his slit and onto your hand. "Looking all pretty like this, just for me." He gave a small nod. "Time to take these out and let you cum?" His eyes widened slightly just at the thought of you letting him cum. He nodded excitedly and you smiled at your pulled the wet panties from him, kissing his plump lips.

"Please, mommy, I-I've been s'good, I swear." He mumbled, hands clutching the sheets so tightly his knuckles lightened to stop from touching himself.

His whole body was twitching, especially his legs and you couldn't not pay them some attention, lightly grazing his inner thighs with your nails causing him to moan. "Such a good boy, so obedient." Tears were rolling down his cheeks, a wonky smile pulling at his lips.

Your fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, he gasped. Moans and whines left him in chains as you jerked him off at a much faster pace now. His heels dug into the mattress as he kicked, not wanting to cum until he was told he could.

"Please, can I- Can I cum inside, please?" He whined, hips helplessly bucking into your hand.

You shook your head at his request. "It'll feel good just like this, just do what I tell you to do." He whined at that. Your hand kept a steady rhythm, you watched the prominent vein up him pulsing and the rest of him twitched. You waited patiently for just the right time. "Such a good boy, huh? My good boy, can you cum for mommy?" Without a second thought he let everything go.

Moans ripped from him until he went silent, his head fell back and his jaw went slack, eyes rolling into the back of his head. His body completely melted into the bed as thick ropes of cum squirted onto his chest and stomach, his body quickly getting overstimulated as you continued to stroke him.

His chest fell with a heavy breath and his gaze came back to you. He looked down at himself, a thin layer of sweat coating him and far more cum on him than he'd expected. "Did I- Did I do good?" He asked, looking at you with expectant, wide teary eyes.

You nodded and moved closer to him. "You always do good." He smiled softly up at you, eyes struggling to stay open. You cupped his cheek with your hand, still cover in his mess. "Aw, are you tired?" He nodded, tiredly reaching for you. "You can sleep now but tomorrow it's my turn~" You mused and moved to sit beside him, wrapping your arms around him and letting him lean on you.

[cyberrose2001]

Alright I'm gonna do it

Might I request a TFP Optimus x fem human Reader? It can be soft/loving, rough/intense, kinky or vanilla, or some combination of those - whatever you prefer and are comfortable with!

I just like that sweet handsome mech to be subby and vocal :P

TFP Optimus x Fem!Human! Reader

Is it 2am? Yes

Am I gonna pass out after posting this? Hell yea

I hope you enjoy some subby Optimus!!

Warnings: dom/sub, prem-ejaculation, mentions of masturbation

Word count: 1,233

Soft fairy lights illuminate the cold room, which you convinced Optimus to put up for you since sharing a berthroom, flickering like candlelight across two bodies. It would be a reasonably innocent scene if not for the wet sounds of tongue meeting glossa. Not uncommon for you and Optimus, but the mech expressed an unconventional desire of his. And it was anything besides innocent.

He thought about it constantly, like something in his circuits had been re-wired into becoming entirely devoted to being dominated by a human, by you. The thought excites him so much that he's self-serviced to it multiple times before ever bringing it up with you. And he's ashamed to admit that he was embarrassingly quick with it, hoping you wouldn't find it pathetic for a bot of his nature.

But thank Primus, you were willing.

Optimus lets out a breathy moan into your mouth, his servos pawing desperately at your hips as you hover over him. Much like a cat to a soft pillow, the mech finds comfort and sensuality in how your skin gives in under his touch. It excites him like no other Cybertronian has and has remained that way since first laying a digit on you.

His breath hitches as he feels your soft lips trail down his chin, light flicks of your tongue leaving a wet trail towards his neck cabling. It's like you're tasting him as if you cannot get enough of him, and the mere thought of that causes him to tilt his helm to the side and let out a deep groan. It's what he craves to feel; it's what he desperately needs.

As you're licking and sucking at the sensitive machinery, Optimus' grip tightens on your hips. His spike is painfully erect, gorged, and angry as he urges you to sit on him. He feels your smile against his neck, causing his spike to jump in anticipation.

"Oh, honey," You tease, your voice deep and husky as you bring a hand to grip his chin, forcing him to look at you, "You're this desperate already?"

Optimus feels like he's stopped breathing, your bright, glowing eyes instantly capturing his attention. The mech considered himself an artist of patience, as patient as the persistence of a star's glow. But when the artist's object of his desires is right on top of him, stark naked and bathed in the light of his blue aura, his patience wears thin like an empty paint tube. He wants you; he needs you to squeeze him for all he's worth.

"Please," Optimus shakily whimpers, pushing you down onto his aching spike, "I need this, I need you... badly."

His gentle yet needy tone sends a shiver down your spine, adding to the thrill of having Optimus right where you wanted him. Though a rare sight indeed, watching Optimus unravel beneath you as you slowly grind his spike through your slick folds evokes a hunger for dominance.

"Oh yeah?" You gasp as the ridges run along your clit, and your hands find the rim of his windshield, "Do you want me to fuck you?"

Optimus' engines roar at your words, his frame heating up like a boiler. His intake agape as you grind on him a bit harder, precum already dripping onto his abdominal plating, "Yes, Primus, yes."

A breathless giggle escapes from your lips, "Oh, big boy," leaning to whisper against his dermas, "You're so sweet, but you know better."

Optimus whines, "Please," half-babbling, half-focused entirely on how close his spike is to slipping inside you. He's come to know and crave that warm, slick part of you. He could map out every inch of your insides and would still want to get lost in it, "Fuck me..."

You bite your lip softly at his pleading swear. Hearing him use human profanity is different, but it sends another shiver through you. You allow yourself one last drag of your hips before going in for the kill, "That's a good mech..."

Eyes focused on his optics, you sink onto his thick spike, inching slowly until your ass meets his thighs. Optimus lets out a sharp gasp, and you watch as his face contorts into one of pure, unfiltered ecstasy. His digits dig into your thighs, his desire to be entirely under your beck and will for your pleasure evident in his actions. His frame remains stagnant, waiting for you to use him as you please.

You allow yourself a moment to adjust, closing your eyes as you indulge in the full feeling of him seated inside you. The way his cock throbs flush against your walls in yearning, how you can feel your tummy bulging slightly. It's always an adjustment with Optimus' spike; even as he's mass displaced, it pricks tears in your eyes. But you're a highly trained size queen. And Optimus is your jester for tonight, fulfilling his desire to be under your control.

Picking your hips up, you come down on him hard, moaning a chorus as you set a brutal pace for yourself. With each grind of your hips, you see stars. And you know Optimus is experiencing a similar high because each moan he tries to make gets stolen each time you slam down on him, his voice coming out in sharp grunts.

"There you go..." You moan, tightening your grip on his windshield as you bounce persistently. Your thighs start to burn, and you start to get winded, "Just let- just let me take care of you, baby."

Optimus nods languidly, wholly engulfed in you. Every time his hips connect to yours, he lets out a sharp gasp and hisses as you unsheath yourself far too soon. He dares to look down where you connect, nearly overloading at the sight. His daring human, unmercifully taking her pleasure from his spike, engulfing him over and over again, using him like a toy. He lazily rakes his optics back up your overworking body, gazing at the way your flesh jiggles, how your breasts have a mind of their own, and how good it would feel to have them in his face for the rest of eternity.

And with a million and one different pictures of you in his mind and how you've clenched around him so tightly, Optimus grips your hips painfully hard and presses his spike deep. A long, quivering groan leaves his dermas as he overloads prematurely, his spike throbbing and flooding your insides, pouring every single fantasy in his love-sick mind into you.

"Optimus!" You choke on his name, not expecting the gush of transfluids so early, but your body embraces it, and you come hard onto his spike with him, grinding your hips to lengthen both your orgasms, "Fuck~."

Optimus keels forward, moving his arms to your waist, and tightly pulls you flush against him, letting your pussy milk him dry. He buries his helm into your neck, mumbling and blabbering lewd nonsense into your sticky skin. After hearing a soft apology, you decide to reciprocate, whispering his praises the way he likes it. He hangs onto you desperately as he comes down from his overload, his frame jolting in the aftershocks.

"Did such a good job," You mutter, kissing the side of his helm. You caress his chassis soothingly, letting him melt into your embrace, "What a good boy."

He might be a lot deeper in it than he thought.

[mustainegf]

Loved that Kirk blurb about his teeth. So fucking cute!!!

I saw you mentioned James and his acne too though. Did you already write fics about that? If so, can you link them? Because yeah, James is still hot as hell with or without acne same as Kirk is hot as hell with his original teeth or his newer ones. But I can see him being self conscious about it sometimes (just as I can see Kirk being self conscious about his teeth sometimes), especially of someone says something rude about it in their hearing or in such a way that it got back to the guys. And neither deserves to feel self conscious about such things. :(

I cannot even begin to express how much I loves James acne/acne scars they are SO CUTE!??? dude I hope he was never insecure of them cuz he was absolutely adorable

𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐒 ¹⁹⁸⁴

I had just come home from a long day of classes, a tad weary but excited to see James, he always made my days better. I pushed open the door of his room, it was ajar, and then I stopped, having seen what I never expected I would.

There in front of his mirror sat James, right on the floor, staring into the glassy surface. His face was red, though it wasn't from exertion or the warmth of the room. He looked devastated.

I paused in the doorway, unsure if he had noticed me. As soon as he heard the door creak, he rapidly wiped his face with the back of his hand and tried to act as if nothing had happened. But I knew otherwise.

"Hey," I cooed softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind me. James barely looked at me, his eyes darting back to the mirror for just a second before he forced a smile in my direction.

"Hey," he replied, with very obvious strain. "What's up?"

I didn't say anything at first. I approached where he sat, and seeing his obvious forced composure made my heart ache, I didn’t want him to feel like he had to ever hide from me.

I knelt beside him, the cool wooden floor pressing into my knees. I snuggled up beside him, sliding my arms around his, before resting my head on his shoulder. We just stayed there like this for a minute. I could feel the emotion in his muscles, faint quivering of his arm when my fingertips reached it.

"James," I began to say softly, looking up at him, "what's wrong?"

He shrugged and jerked his head away from me, looking at some invisible point on the floor. "Nothing. Just, it's weird lighting in here, I guess."

I frowned. "James, I can tell you've been crying. Please, talk to me."

He sighed, a shuddering breath that came from the soul. "I said it's nothing," he repeated, a little more forcefully this time. He wiped at his eyes again, trying to compose himself once more, only breaking my heart.

I could feel the tears welling up in my own eyes now, seeing him like this. "James, please. I know something's wrong. You don't have to hide it from me."

He shook his head. "Just drop it, okay? It's not a big deal."

I wasn't going to let it go. I could see the pain in his face, the way his eyes were reddened and his lips drooped. I shifted around more in front of him, my hands gently cupping his face. "James, look at me," I instructed.

Finally, he faced me, his eyes swam with tears, two sparkling ponds. "Please, just leave it," he whispered, his voice broke, breaking me equally.

"Jamie, I'm here for you," I comforted, stroking his cheeks very gently with the pads of my thumbs. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

He closed his eyes, and a single tear slid down his cheek. "I hate my face," he finally admitted, his voice so quiet I just about didn't hear it.

What?! How could he ever think that? He was the most handsome person I’d ever met. I couldn’t possibly conjure up any idea as to why he could think such a thing.

"Why would you say that?" I questioned softly, running my fingers through his long wispy hair.

James finally looked up to met my gaze. In his eyes was a dangerous concoction of sadness and hate. "My acne…" he finally spat out, his voice cracking. "I hate it. I can’t stand looking at myself."

I was mortified. I'd always found James breathtaking, acne and all. Actually, the breakouts, the little pinkish-red marks, along with the divets of scars, had become something I had grown to adore on his cheeks.

"Oh, Jamie," I cooed, heart aching. I wrapped my arms tenderly around his shoulders, holding him in close.

His body convulsed softly as tears began to fall from his eyes again. Breathing in short bursts, vibrating with each one. "I’m so ugly," he choked out. "I see all these people out there with perfect everything and then I look at myself, and I just..."

I wrapped him tighter in my grasp and felt what he was feeling, as if it was mine. "You're not ugly.” I pulled back a little and stared him right in the eyes. "You're beautiful, James. All of you."

He shook his head, tears streaming down his face now. "Don't say that," he muttered. "I know what I look like."

I reached up and gently brushed his tears away with my thumbs once more. "I'm not saying it because I have to," I said. "I'm saying it because it's true."

We just held each other for a moment, staring into the mirror.

"Look at yourself, James," I said very softly. "Really look at yourself. You are so handsome."

He peered doubtfully at our reflections in the mirror. In his eyes, I could practically taste his hesitation. "I don't know," he said shyly.

I leaned closer to him, inches from his ear, and whispered, "you know what I see?” James listened but kept his face fixated on his reflection, "I see the boy I fell in love with. And he’s now a man, a rather good looking man too." I chuckled softly.

A grin spread his face. "That’s the face I fell in love with, and I think he’s handsome.”

James looked back at the mirror, his eyes flicking back and forth between his reflection and mine. Slowly, he took a deep breath. "I'm handsome?” he said sourly, as if the word was foreign on his tongue.

I smiled, reaching to kiss his cheek. "You always have been," I whispered, my fingers tracing the lines on his soft jaw. "James any girl would kill to be with you, you’ve seen how crazy those groupies get."

He laughed, the sound breaking through the final layer of his sadness. "You really think I'm handsome?"

"I know you are," I replied, kissing his bumpy pink cheek. "And I'm going to keep telling you that until you believe it too."

[missvelvetsstuff]

The Situation Room

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: After a mission almost gone wrong, Tony brings back Bucky's former assistant, who is also Bucky's ex. Can they work together without hurting each other? Will the whole truth about their break up finally come out?

Avengers AU where Thanos never happened.

Chapter 1

Warnings: swearing, angst

After a rough nites sleep, Y/N woke at 6am and took a shower before heading to the kitchen for coffee and breakfast. There was a team meeting at 8am and she knew she needed caffeine to get through it.

She was sitting at the table with her coffee and a bagel when Steve and Sam came in followed by Bucky. She greeted them with a quiet good morning which had Sam pulling her out of her seat for a hug, winking at Bucky who rolled his eyes. Sam's friendship with Y/N had always irritated him and he just knew Sam was going to do everything he could to exacerbate the tension.

"Radar! How you been, baby girl? I'm surprised to see you back here, tired of Madripoor?" Sam laughed as he squeezed her.

Y/N shrugged "Are we really sticking with this Radar thing? I mean I love MASH but just because you're so predictable, Sammy, doesn't mean I'm psychic." She teased "There's too much going in Madripoor to get bored, I'm just doing an old friend a favor but don't plan to be here too long."

"Thank God for small favors." Bucky spat

She felt her stomach drop at his tone but just smirked at Bucky "Just keep your shit together so I can train you a new assistant and get the fuck outta here."

Sam laughed "I have missed you!"

Steve was more reserved, worried about how Bucky was going to deal with this new dynamic "Nice to see you again, Y/N" he gave her a small smile and nod.

Radar grinned "Same to you, Rogers."

Wanda and Nat wandered in chatting with Bruce trailing behind them. Nat stopped dead and put her arm out to stop Wanda "Is that who I think it is? Y/N? You're back?" She tried to temper the excitement over seeing her friend here in the compound after 2 years while picking up on the anger radiating from Bucky. She went to hug her friend "I didn't think I'd ever see you here again. Not that I minded our girl time in Madripoor."

Radar smiled, hugging her and Wanda at the same time "It's good to see you ladies. It's been 6 months since our last get together we'll have to tear up Manhattan when we can schedule it."

She smiled at Bruce and he hugged her "Glad you're back Radar, we've missed you."

A voice came from the hall "I hope you aren't planning a girls nite without me. I missed the last trip." Maria Hill walked into the kitchen and went to give Radar a hug.

Steve and Bucky were staring at the women, slack jawed until Steve spoke up "So you girls have been getting together regularly? How is this the first I'm hearing of this?"

Radar chuckled "Well geez Cap, it's girl time and you aren't invited so why would anyone tell you? Besides there's all kinds of drinking and swearing and general mischief making. Really not your type of party."

Bucky scoffed, glaring at Radar "So Nat, you and Wanda have been getting together with her, even after she- after what she did?" he shook his head "some friends you are." and stomped down the hall.

Radar shook her head and whispered under her breath "Yeah, what I did to him. Pffft."

Nat rubbed her back "You going to be ok working with him again?"

Radar smiled sadly "Yeah, as soon as I get his shit in order, I'll work to find and train my replacement. Then it's back to exciting Madripoor and the Power Brokers trail."

Nat hummed as she considered whether she should say what she was thinking and decided to push ahead "You could try to talk to him, tell him the truth about what happened."

Radar chuckled humorlessly "Right, he's obviously totally open to talking to me, thats why he says something nasty every time we're in the same room. He's no more interested in my side of the story than he was the day it happened. Sorry, Nat, sometimes you can't go home."

Steve poured himself a cup of coffee, wondering what they were talking about before switching to captain mode. "Meeting starts in 30, make sure you're all there on time."

Radar smiled "Don't worry Cap, we're on our way."

The ladies chatted for a few more minutes before heading to the conference room. They all sat together with Radar between Nat and Wanda while Bruce sat next to Nat and Vision walked in with Tony then sat next to Wanda.

Clint was behind them and smiled when he saw her "Radar! Welcome home." He patted her on the shoulder.

Radar looked at her friends on either side of her and smiled sadly at their happiness. She was thrilled they both found good partners but seeing them like that made her so lonely. She'd had no romantic interest since she left the compound. It felt like that part of her heart was broken beyond repair. There had been a couple of flings, a girl has needs, but nothing more than one night.

She had truly believed that Bucky was it and after everything still loved him, even if they couldn't be together.

Sam, Wanda and Nat had kept her up on the team gossip and while learning of Bucky's many women felt like a shot to the chest, she knew that was him acting out and would still do whatever she could to help him. He had worked so hard to make up for what Hydra made him do and his reputation had been trending upward but this last mission and the incident with the photographer made the public and the team's benefactors question him being there.

Radar took a deep breath to calm her mind, reminding herself that she would get him back on the right track, then go back to the wilds of Madripoor and probably never see him again. The thought of that hurt but she shook it off, that's how it had to be.

She jumped when she heard her name.

"Radar! I can't believe it's really you, never thought you'd come back." Nick Fury shouted with a grin on his face.

She smiled "Good to see you too, Nick. Enjoy me while you can because I'm just here to clean up a mess and train the next guy."

Nick chuckled "We'll just have to see if we can find a way to make you move back home permanently."

Radar smile at him sadly, why did everyone but him have to bring up keeping her here. "I don't think that's a good idea but I'm flattered you want me around."

Bucky and Steve walked into the room and Bucky scoffed "If she stays I'm fucking leaving. I'd rather give up my pardon and live the rest of my life on the Raft than anywhere near her."

Radar sighed "Yes Barnes, we get it. You hate me and wish I were dead. If you insist on reminding me every time we're in the same room together, I'll be convinced that you're still obsessed with me." she winked at him.

Bucky was sure steam must be coming out of his ears, she had a lot of nerve fucking with him like that "If you-"

Fury interrupted "Flirt on your own time, Barnes. This isn't speed dating, we have business to take care of."

Bucky sputtered and went to say something but Tony spoke up and interrupted him, not that he had any coherent thoughts to voice so he sat back, glaring at Y/N.

"Now that we're all here. The first order of business is notifying all of you that Radar has returned to help Barnes get organized and train her replacement. Once that's done, we need some excuse to convince her to stay."

Bucky groaned "please, god, no."

Radar shook her head "Don't get yourself in a tizzy Barnes. I told you, that's not happening." She looked at Tony "I told you that I'm leaving once I've trained a competent replacement. I can't stay here permanently and you know that. You all need to let that go cuz it's not happening."

Bucky sighed, relieved that she wasn't planning to stay. He didn't know if he could deal with seeing her all the time so he promised himself he would do everything in his power to speed things along. But somewhere, deep in his subconscious he dreaded the thought of her leaving again. And maybe never seeing her again. He still loved her desperately, the countless women he had gone through in the last 2 years gave him no peace, none of them felt or smelled or sounded like her and he was terrified that he would give in and beg her to take him back if she stayed too long. He was also terrified that he wouldn't and she would get away from him, again.

Bucky badly wanted to touch her, kiss and hold her, make love to her for hours like he used to. He could smell her vanilla body spray, the citrus shampoo & conditioner and the musk that was distinctly her. He could feel his body responding to being in close quarters with her again and was grateful for the table to hide his, ahem reactions.

Thankfully, Nick Fury spoke up "On to business. There's a facility in Belarus that was believed to be abandoned but is showing signs of activity. I need 2 people for recon. Any volunteers?"

Bucky raised his hand "I'm in if I can get out of here while....." he trailed off.

Radar kept her face emotionless. She was starting to think this was a mistake. As if the glares and cold demeanor weren't enough he had to make a crack every chance he had.

Just being near him was torture. She felt an empty ache in her chest and her eyes filled with tears but she refused to let them fall. She swallowed a sob down and whispered in a sing song voice "Obseeesed"

Bucky growled and she felt her panties dampen. His nostrils flared and he sat back in his seat, a death grip on the arms, before he took her on the conference table in front of the whole team.

Sam volunteered to go with him and Bucky groaned, he was almost as difficult to be around as Y/N.

Fury nodded and handed packets to both men "There we go, that wasn't so difficult. Since Sam's assistant isn't here, Radar will prep everything you need and be in the quinjet and in your ears when you go in. I suggest the three of you get some sleep, wheels up at 9 tonight"

Bucky shook his head "What do you mean she'll be in the jet? Starks tech is good enough that she can do it from here. Goddammit I want to be wherever she isn't so send someone else."

Fury glared at him "For a man who's over 100 years old you are acting like a fucking child, Barnes. Grow the fuck up and act like the professional you are supposed to be."

Nick's face turned up into a devious grin "You do realize that if you don't go, she doesn't either right? She's your assistant, your angel. If you had hired assistants without prioritizing their fuckability, you wouldn't be here. It's already decided. Go hit your rack while you can."

Sam chuckled as he left the room "You just can't win Terminator. Maybe the universe wants you crazy kids together."

Bucky sighed, no point in complaining any more. A mission with the two people he would least like to be around. Hopefully the intel was right and it would be a quick in and out. He went to his room to stretch out, knowing that sleep was unlikely.

Steve caught up with him in the hall "I'm just giving you some information and what you do with it is up to you." He lowered his voice "I heard Nat trying to convince Y/N to talk to you, she said something about telling you the truth about what happened that day. Maybe you should hear her out, listen to her side."

Bucky shook his head "What side? There's no side that makes what she did ok so there's not much point. I just want to get through this so she goes on her way."

Steve shook his head "Fine punk, it's your life."

Radar went to the armory to put Sam and Bucky's gear and weapons together and loaded up the quinjet before heading to her room for a couple of hours of sleep, if she could manage that much. She prayed to whatever gods were out there that this mission would be easy and fast.

[letsgetrowdy43]

Vegas Nights—

Quinn Hughes x Honey Hughes

Warnings: 18+ content/smut below the cut: nothing extremely explicit or intense, just soft sex!! It's literally just sex, with very little plot.

Au Masterlist!!

The room erupted into applause as Quinn's name was announced, breaking the tension among the Hughes family as Quinn was awarded the gleaming Norris Trophy, a symbol of his hard-earned achievement. Honey felt a surge of pride swell in her chest as she jumped to her feet to press a loving kiss to her husband's lips as he pulled her into his chest.

"I'm so proud of you," she mumbled as she rested her chin on his shoulder before she pulled away to look him in the eyes. "Couldn't have done it without you Hun," he pressed a short kiss to her temple before he went down the row of Hughes and company, hugging and thanking all of them before he made his way to the stage to accept his award.

She stood with his brothers, Jack's arm wrapped around her shoulder as she leaned into his side, tears of pride welling in her eyes as Quinn delivered his heartfelt acceptance speech.

"The reality of winning an award like this is you can’t do it alone and you need really good players around you, and I certainly have that," Quinn said, his voice filled with emotion, "It takes a team both on and off the ice, so thank you to not only the Cancuks and the organization but also to my brothers, my parents, friends, family and the never-ending support of my wife Honey and my kids, none of this would've been possible without you all being in my corner."

Honey's heart skipped a beat at his words, her cheeks flushing with happiness as she beamed up at him, watching his shy grin grow as he caught her eyes. She mumbled mouthed a short "love you," which was caught by the camera as he continued on to thank his fellow nominees.

The rest of the ceremony was a blur of congratulatory handshakes, hugs, and photos, but all she could think about was getting Quinn back to their hotel room, away from the crowds, to celebrate his victory in their own, more private way.

After the awards ceremony, they headed to the casino to toast Quinn's success. They laughed, and they drank, enjoying the never-ending energy of the Las Vegas night. Honey couldn't remember the last time they had so much fun, surrounded by loved ones and the excitement of the win. But as the night wore on, an electric tension began to build between her and Quinn, an unspoken promise of what was to come.

"We should leave soon," Honey mumbled into Quinn's ear before pressing a gentle kiss to his jaw, a teasing smile working its way to her face as Quinn pulled away with a grin. He slightly stiffened in the booth they were currently sitting at, "got a little surprise for me?" he joked as his hand squeezed her thigh that was pressed against his. Honey batted her lashes, a pout making its way to her face as his thumb brushed over her bottom lip, toying with her as she shook her head, "No surprise, just wanna get you all to myself, thought maybe we could celebrate, just the two of us."

Quinn cleared his throat and stood up abruptly as she finished her sentence, "We are going to bed. Night!" he announced to the table with a grin. Jack chuckled, shaking his head, "Didn't think you'd be running off so soon. Thought you'd be itching for another round of blackjack after your last losing streak." Quinn shot him a playful glare. "Not tonight, I think I'm about to score big," he said, his eyes flickering back to Honey with a look that made the heat in her lower stomach burn brighter. "That's fucking disgusting" Luke groaned as he shooed his eldest brother away, the married couple laughing at the youngest dramatics as they made their way from the casino to their hotel

When they finally returned to their hotel room, Honey barely had the door closed before Quinn's hands were on her. He pressed her against the wall, his lips crashing down on hers in a searing kiss. The heat between them was palpable, the pent-up desire from the night bursting as his hands began to roam.

"I've been waiting all night to get you alone," Quinn murmured against her lips, his voice rough with need. "Me too," Honey breathed, her hands tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer.

Quinn's hands wandered her body, "so... how do you wanna celebrate my big night," he whispered into her skin as began slowly unzipping the back of her dress, grinning as it hit the floor which led his lips back onto her skin, nipping at her collarbones. Honey's fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt, yanking it off and tossing it aside, "I was thinking we start in the bed, and then maybe in the shower, but it's all up to you, Mr. Norris Trophy winner," Her attention now back on his lips, hands cupping his jaw and pulling him in closer to press his lips against hers before she nipped at his bottom lip. The feel of his bare skin against hers sent a jolt of electricity through her, and she moaned into his mouth, needing more of him, "I like the sound of that."

He lifted her effortlessly, carrying her to the bed and laying her down gently on the soft mattress, Quinn stood for a moment, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of her. Honey's body burned under his gaze, the intensity of his look sending shivers down her spine.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "And you're all mine," Honey replied, her voice trembling with anticipation as he lowered himself onto the bed to be face-to-face with her.

Quinn's mouth found hers again, his kiss hungry and demanding as his hands skillfully moved to her bra, unclasping it with practiced ease and letting it fall away. He cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples and sending waves of pleasure coursing through her, she arched into his touch, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

Quinn's kisses trailed down her neck, his tongue flicking out to taste her skin. He moved lower, his mouth finding her breast and sucking gently. Honey's breath hitched, her back arching off the bed as a moan escaped her lips.

"Quinn," she gasped, her voice barely more than a whisper. He didn't respond, his mouth too busy exploring her body, leaving goosebumps the further he trailed down her figure. His hands slid down to her hips, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties and pulling them down. Honey kicked them off, her body aching for his touch.

Quinn's mouth followed the path of his hands, kissing and licking his way down her body until he reached the apex of her thighs. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire. Honey's breath caught in her throat, her body trembling with anticipation.

"This was supposed to be about you," she whispered, her voice trembling as he pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh. "This night is as much yours as it is mine," he looked up at her with a loving gaze before nipping her other thigh. "But-" she was cut off as his hands intertwined with hers.

Quinn didn't hesitate, his mouth found her center, licked a strip up her core which elicited a broken moan. Honey's head fell back against the pillow, a cry of pleasure escaping her lips as he nipped teasingly at her clit. The sensation was overwhelming, the pleasure building with each flick of his tongue.

She tangled her fingers in his curls, holding him to her as her hips moved against him, grinding against his face as he stared up with lust blown eyes as his wife.

Honey writhed under the weight of his tongue, eyes closed and heart pounding as her husband worked his magic. She laid out prettily for him, falling apart in his hands, he was winning in more ways than one tonight.

Quinn's hands gripped her thighs, holding her steady as he brought her closer and closer to the edge. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her body trembling with the intensity of the pleasure.

When she finally came, it was with a shuddering cry, her body convulsing with the force of her release. Quinn held her through it, his mouth never ceasing its tender ministrations until the last tremors of pleasure had subsided.

Honey lay back against the pillow, her body limp and satisfied as she caught her breath.

Quinn crawled up her body, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both tender and possessive. Honey could taste herself on his lips, the sensation sending another wave of desire through her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer before she rolled over to straddle him.

"My turn to lead," she whispered against his lips, her voice a little stronger as her hands ran over the tanned skin on his chest. "Need you," Quinn whined, his voice a low growl as she grinned at his desperation.

She sank down on him slowly, filling her completely. Honey gasped at the sensation, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she began to move. Their rhythm was slow and sensual, each movement deliberate and full of love. The intensity built with each thrust, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony. Honey's breath came in ragged gasps, her hip grinding against his as the pleasure built to a fever pitch, one of his hands guiding her hips, the other drawing tight circles on her clit using his thumb.

"God, Honey," he moaned, his eyes dark with desire as he watched her, "you feel so good." She leaned forward, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "so do you, baby," her voice was a seductive purr, sending shivers down his spine.

Her pace quickened, control slipping as she neared her peak, her nails digging into his shoulders as they climbed higher and higher. "Quinn," she moaned, her voice breaking with need as he sat up a little to press a kiss to her jaw and then lowered to bite softly at the skin of her breasts. "I know, Hun, I know," he replied, his voice strained with desire as his lips wrapped around her nipple before moving up to silence her loud cries of pleasure. And with a final, shuddering thrust, they reached their climaxes together, their cries of pleasure echoing through the room.

Honey collapsed on top of him, relishing the feeling of his arms wrapping around her as they both caught their breath. She rested her head on his chest, the steady beat of his heart a comforting reminder of their bond.

"Now that's what I call a proper celebration," she murmured, tracing patterns on his chest with her fingertips. "I love you, and I'm so proud of you, don't know if I tell you that enough," a grin spreading across his face as he looked at her, watching as her eyes filled with love right before she pressed a gentle kiss to his chest. "I love you too," he mumbled as he cupped her face and brought it up to press a sloppy kiss to her lips.

Quinn pulled away, her face still in his hands as he gently ran her fingers over the flushed skin of her cheek, grinning at how pretty his wife looked, makeup smudged and hair a mess, but still the prettiest thing he's ever laid his eyes on. "Now I believed I was promised something to do with round two, and a shower," he laid a gentle smack to her ass before intertwining their hands once again hoisting her over his shoulder and taking off in the direction of the hotel bathroom, laughter filling the air as he shut the door and concealing them from the rest of the world.

-

-

-

[winwintea]

secure that card! 42. two sides of the world

"Sorry to call you like this out of the blue."

Ricky had invited you out for a quick brunch at First Watch, one of your favorite restaurants ever. (only because you loved sleeping in, and brunch was always there for you whenever you were hungry.) "No, it's fine. I kind of need the distraction." You smiled at him as you took a bite out of your avocado toast. "But I also kind of needed to talk to you too." Ricky looked at you curiously. He had also wanted to talk to you about something urgent, but was surprised you had also wanted to talk to him too. "You go first then." "Me? Why? Didn't you call me over here in the first place?" You raised a brow at him, questioning his motives. "Ladies first."

Ugh. Wasn't chivalry dead? But you had to get this out of your head anyways. "Ricky, I know you have feelings for me, but I have to tell you, that I unfortunately don't-" "I know." You stared at him in shock. He knew? "You know?" Ricky sighed deeply as he began speaking, "I know you don't have feelings for me Y/N. You don't feel that way for me because I'm younger than you, I completely understand. I also know that you're still hooked on Chenle, which was why I wanted to talk to you today. I wasn't here to confess, but here we are." Oh. Well, you definitely misunderstood. You chuckled, clearly embarrassed, "What about Chenle though?"

"Y/N. I know you. You haven't been yourself these couple of days. You've been focusing most of your energy on finding out who killed your parents, but deep down I know you miss him." Ricky was unfortunately right. You had gone by a couple of weeks without seeing Chenle, and in those times you had moped about his absence. Trying to fill your schedule with other things, to move on, but unfortunately it had proved worthless, as you still thought about him constantly. Ricky continued on, "Obviously I don't agree with any of Chenle's actions. He should've reached out and explained, but it's not about him, it's about you. He's gone back to Shanghai, did you know that?" "Oh." You stood there dumbfounded, clearly you didn't know or try to reach out, "I didn't know that. Why has he gone back?" "Because just like you, he doesn't know how to cope." "Okay, I'm coping just fine. We're looking for the secret organization who killed my parents here." You rolled your eyes, but Ricky still looked at you seriously. "I hardly believe that." He shook his head, "Which is why I think you should go to Shanghai. He's also been ignoring his friends, and to be honest the only one who can probably get through to him is you." "I'll think about it." "You better think soon, cause Ten needs to get you a visa." "HE CAN DO THAT TOO??"

---

On the other side of the world, Chenle wasn't sure how he'd ended up in a car with Yiren's family driving around Shanghai, but he was certainly here. All he wanted to do was to subtly get a taxi and rest, after the 14 hours on the plane, but Yiren simply insisted. Chenle had gotten used to talking to the girl, since he spent most of his flight texting her. "I'm so excited you're here now!" She stared at you cheerfully. He tried to give an enthusiastic smile, but he was still exhausted from the trip. "Yeah.." "What places do you think are the best to visit? I've only been in town for days but I'm not sure which places are the most interesting." He racked his brain for malls or landmarks to visit. Joy City? Oh, you would love visiting Joy City.

What the hell.

Why was he thinking about you? Yiren. He was currently showing Yiren around Shanghai. Not you. Damn, that kinda hurts doesn't it? What was he even doing here with Yiren. Sure, she was a potential marriage match his father had suggested. But she wasn't you. She would never be you. He hated how he pushed that idea onto her. He ruined the one good thing his sad life ever had by lying to you, so he should just move on at this point. Chenle's thoughts were interrupted by Yiren's voice, "Chenle? You good?" She looked at him strangely as if trying to understand his thoughts. "Yeah." He smiled at her, trying his best to give her a genuine smile, "Let's go to the Kerry Center." He turned his attention to Yiren's parents up in the front, "I'll take her from here if that's alright with you guys?" Yiren's mom smiled at him, "Sure, just have fun!" And so the two popped out of the car, heading to the nearest subway.

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SUMMARY ▸ zhong chenle is the owner of many cards. a black card? he owns that. he even has a stanford student id card. the one card he doesn’t own though? a green card. and if chenle plays his cards right, he just may be able to secure one by wooing you. or it could all fall through… who knows?

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[lilacwants]

I have such bad memory so sorry if I already requested this! but request for a homelander x reader where the reader is also a supe. they had some bad experience with intimacy in the past & while they’re getting intimate with homelander they have a sort of flashback. basically hurt/comfort and then fluff. i am a huge sucker for homelander being soft when it comes to his s/o lol!!!

safe in your arms.

notes: of course anon this is so sweet!!! <3 i love soft! homelander with all my heart :’(. summary: in the quiet safety of his apartment, you find out that homelander can be surprisingly gentle & even caring. warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, soft! homelander.

You had always known that being a supe came with its own set of challenges. The powers, the public scrutiny, the constant pressure to be perfect—all of it weighed heavily on your shoulders. But the hardest part had always been intimacy. Past experiences had left scars, both physical and emotional, that you couldn't seem to shake.

When you started seeing Homelander, you were skeptical. He was everything you feared in a partner: powerful, intimidating, and unpredictable. But over time, he showed you a side of himself that the world never got to see. He was gentle, caring, and, surprisingly, vulnerable.

Tonight, as you lay together in the quiet of your apartment, you felt a strange mix of fear and excitement. Homelander's blue eyes softened as he looked at you, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice a soft murmur that seemed out of place for someone so formidable.

You nodded, though the truth was more complicated. You wanted to be close to him, to feel the connection that you shared, but the memories of past hurts were never far from your mind. As his lips met yours, you tried to focus on the present, on the warmth of his body against yours and the tender way he held you.

But then, as his hand traced down your side, a sudden flash of memory hit you. Another time, another place, another man who hadn't been kind. Panic flared in your chest, and you pulled away, gasping for breath.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Homelander said quickly, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "You're safe. I'm here."

You buried your face in his shoulder, the scent of him grounding you as you tried to push the memories away. "I'm sorry," you whispered, tears pricking at your eyes. "I just... I can't..."

"Shh, it's okay," he soothed, his hand stroking your back. "You don't have to apologize. I get it."

You looked up at him, searching his face for any sign of frustration or anger, but there was none. Only concern and a deep, unwavering affection. "You do?" you asked, your voice trembling.

He nodded, his expression earnest. "I do. And I want you to know that you're in control here. We go at your pace. Whatever you need, I'm here."

His words were like a balm to your wounded heart. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "Can we just... lie here for a while?" you asked.

"Of course," he said without hesitation. He pulled you closer, his arms a protective cocoon around you. "We can stay like this as long as you want."

You nestled against him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. The memories still lingered, but they seemed less daunting now, less powerful. With Homelander holding you, you felt a sense of safety and peace that you hadn't known in a long time.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "No need to thank me," he murmured. "I care about you, and I want you to feel safe with me. Always."

As you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you knew that the road to healing wouldn't be easy. But with John by your side, you felt hopeful for the first time in a long time. Together, you could face whatever challenges lay ahead, one step at a time.

[yanderecrazysie]

So, um- I may or may not have an idea, hear me out

Idol! Oikawa who everyone in the world know him except for darling, so when she was dragged by her friends to see one of his concert- at first darling was kind of impressed and enjoyed his concert (she's not the type of y/n who reads book at a concert) so when the concert ends her friends, again— dragged her to the vip section to meet him directly. The first glimpse of darling had already made butterflies flying in Oikawa's tummy. He wants to have her, he needs her. After that, he demands his assistants to stalk on darling's life and eventually captured her. Darling was shocked at first and resistant but Oikawa comfort her that there's no one else could treat her better than him

the end-

(also could you make an nsfw part? gonna make it bit spicy🔥)

-🐇anon

My precious bunny anon, I had too much fun writing this! No one judge me on the nsfw part, I'm still not great at writing it. But damn this is SPICY.

Title: Idol

Pairings: Oikawa Tooru x Reader

WARNINGS: yandere themes, NSFW, NON-CON, swearing, implied drugging

Summary: You can see the appeal in the pop sensation Oikawa, but you aren’t aware that he sees even more appeal in you.

idol

/noun/

a person or thing that is greatly admired, loved, or revered:

“Okay, okay, the concert was pretty good,” you admitted, “He’s not just a pretty boy- he can actually sing really well.”

Oikawa smiled as your friend hugged you and squealed, staying just out of sight around the corner with a hat and sunglasses shielding his face from potential fans. 

He had been waiting there for an hour.

For you.

Did you believe in love at first sight? Oikawa didn’t. Not until now at least.

He let out a weary sigh as your friend dragged you out of earshot. She was a noisy, annoying creature- not Oikawa’s type at all. But she had brought you to his concert, and that redeemed her in his eyes.

He could see you from the stage as he sang, and you dazzled him far more than any of the spotlights. Everyone’s attention was on him, but his attention rested solely on you. If only you had been seated close enough for him to whisk you up onto the stage!

Now, you were leaving him behind. Ending the concert without another thought. Maybe you would go out for ice cream to complete the night? No. Probably not. It was very late after all.

Maybe you would go home and touch yourself under your sheets to the thought of the handsome idol on stage.

“Hey, Shittykawa,” he heard the voice of his friend and manager Iwaizumi calling to him, “Backstage passes still exist.”

He followed Iwaizumi through the backstage area, hope blossoming in his chest as he began to pray that he would see you in line to meet him, a backstage pass clutched in your pretty little fingers. As soon as the line of girls was in his sights, he zeroed in on the person he wished to see. 

Ah. There you are.

You didn’t look particularly excited to be meeting him face-to-face, but that was okay. 

Oikawa’s heart was pounding in his chest as he watched from behind the curtain. You looked so out of place among the extremely excited fans, with your bored expression and hands stuffed in your pockets. Every single one of the other girls had his face on their shirts while you wore just a plain red hoodie. Your gaze was calm but curious, while the other girls’ eyes shone with excitement. 

But to him, you were the only one that mattered.

He took a deep breath, straightened his spine, and put on his most charming smile, then stepped out from behind the curtain to meet his fans. Cheers erupted from the line and girls began squealing to each other, but his gaze never wandered from an unimpressed you.

One by one, the girls came up to him, getting autographs, selfies, and some brief exchanges, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. How could he make a lasting impression on you? How could he turn you into the lovestruck fan he wished you were?

You were next.

You walked up to him calmly, but you lacked confidence in each step, as if you were uncertain about approaching such a celebrity. Your friend gave you two thumbs up and you laughed softly- music to Oikawa’s ears.

You smiled up at him in a polite sort of way, not a hint of eagerness. “Hey,” is all you said as you handed over the backstage pass for him to sign. He took it from you, making sure that his fingers brushed against your own. 

“Did you enjoy the concert?” he asked, voice sweet as sugar.

“Yeah,” you said, “You’re pretty talented.”

That’s all? Oikawa winced for a moment before covering up with a winning grin, “I’m so glad you think so, thank you~”

There was an awkward pause where only the sound of his pen scrawling against the backstage pass could be heard. Oikawa finally spoke up, “What’s your name?”

You gave your name, shrinking a little under his intense gaze.

“(Y/n)...” he repeated dreamily, as if savoring the sound of your name on his tongue, “You have no idea how happy I am that you enjoyed my show.”

You nodded awkwardly, not sure what to say back. The way Oikawa looked at you, as though you were the only girl in the world, made you feel both flattered and frightened.

“Let’s take a picture together,” he suggested. You began to pull your phone out of your pocket, but he was quicker, his light blue cell phone in your face before you could blink. “Say cheese!” Weirded out, you gave the camera a forced smile, shuddering as his arm wrapped around your waist, fingers sinking into your hip.

Oikawa watched as you slipped out of his hold and hurried to the exit, waiting at the door for your friend to have her turn with the idol. He forced a charming smile back to his lips and signed a picture of himself and took a picture with your friend. He was every bit the gentleman to your bestie, while his eyes remained glued on you.

As soon as your friend had finished with the idol, you dragged her through the door, ignoring the way she looked back over her shoulder in awe at the singer. Oikawa let out a little chuckle. It seemed he had creeped you out. How unfortunate.

As soon as the last girl exited the concert building, the charming smile slipped from his face. Coldly, Oikawa turned to his staff and held up his cell phone, where a picture of you and him was still displayed.

“Find her,” he said sharply, “I want information. Anything you can find on my future wife.”

—-----------------------------------------------------

You woke up slowly, your head pounding and your vision blurry. It took a few minutes for the room to come into focus. Instantly, your heart kicked into overdrive and you began to panic. You had no idea where you were or whose bed you were on. 

Candid pictures of you, often taken from behind or during intimate moments, are plastered on the wall like posters. Your heart stutters in your chest when you see the blown-up photos of you undressing and getting out of the shower. 

You tried to sit up, only to realize your wrists are chained to the bed posts.

Sick. This is sick. Where the fuck am I?

As if to answer your question, the door to the bedroom opened and the pop sensation, Oikawa Tooru, walked in. You turned away, cheeks hot, the moment you realized he was naked. Then, the truth dawned on you.

You’re naked too.

“What’s going on?” you tried to sound confident and angry, but your voice came out as a pitiful squeak.

It had been months since you’d last seen him and you can’t tell if it’s a lack of makeup or sleep that has bags under his eyes. He looked exhausted until his gaze fell on you. Then, his countenance lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Iwa-chan told me I had a surprise in my room, but I didn’t imagine…” he trailed off. The grin he gave you was not charming, but terrifying, almost as though he was baring his teeth at you. 

You began to tremble with fear, the realization of your situation sinking in. Oikawa walked slowly towards the bed, hand outstretched. You closed your eyes and shuddered when his hand brushed against your cheek and made its way lower, trailing against your chin, down your neck, and across your collarbone.

Finally, his hand ghosted the beginning of your breast and a sinister chuckle echoed across the room, “I have you… after months of watching… I finally have you.” His fingers pinched your nipple suddenly and you shrieked in surprise and slight pain, “You’re all mine.”

“I don’t understand,” you sobbed, “You’re a famous idol- what the fuck are you doing kidnapping some stranger?”

“Stranger?” Oikawa tilted his head like a confused puppy, “You’re no stranger. I’ve been in love with you from the moment we met.”

“I wish I never got dragged along to your stupid concert,” you spat.

Oikawa just chuckled again, his voice growing husky, “Too bad, it’s too late now anyways. I’ve got you now and I’m never letting you go.”

His hands began to fondle your breasts lightly, fingers tweaking at your nipples. You wished you could swat his hands away, but your wrists merely ache against their cold metal binds.

Oikawa crawled onto the bed, straddling you while stroking the achingly hard member between his legs. The red tip glistened and a bead of precum was squeezed through the slit as he let out a throaty groan. His hands left your breasts and moved to grasp your legs, which were stubbornly clamped tightly together.

He wrenched your legs apart with little effort and you lost it. You began trying to kick him and began to scream at the top of your lungs. Anything to get him away from you. Anything to protect yourself from what he would inevitably do to you.

Your voice grew hoarse and died on your lips as the madman began to laugh. He laughed like you had just told him a hilarious joke and, when his laughter faded, a steely look of determination replaced the mirth in his eyes. His lip curled a little into a sneer as he forced your legs straight, apart, and into the mattress.

“It doesn’t matter how much you kick and scream,” he growled, taking hold of his leaking cock and lining it up with your clenching entrance, “I’m going to make you mine.” And with that, he slammed forward, causing a choked scream to escape your sore throat.

Oikawa groaned loudly, tilting his head back and letting his eyes roll back into his skull, “Fuck, that feels so good. I knew you’d be perfect…”

Tears rolled down your cheeks as he leaned forward, placing his hands on either side of your head and caging you in. Your cunt ached like it was being torn in two, and it probably was.

“I wonder what the articles will say if I show up one day with a kid,” he snickers between heavy breaths, “Or an obedient little pregnant wife. Won’t the fans be so jealous of you?”

You let out a sob as he drew back his hips and slammed home again, deeper than the first thrust already. You looked between your legs and gulped- you’d barely taken 2/3rds of his throbbing length already.

He brought his face closer to yours and, after a moment, he swallowed your lips up into a hungry kiss. You didn’t kiss back, but he forced his tongue into your mouth anyways. He dominates your tongue easily and moans into the kiss as he begins to grind his cock into you, forcing himself even deeper.

To your horror, you could feel your passage becoming wetter, making it easier for him to slide in and out. The slick sounds of him pumping into you and the slaps of skin-on-skin filled the room and you desperately wished you could cover your ears.

You tried staring at the ceiling, but Oikawa’s face eclipsed your vision, grinning down at you as he panted and let out deep moans. The sounds and sights were too much for you and you closed your eyes tight. But still, you cannot block out the sounds.

Your fingers curled into the sheets, ignoring the buildup of pleasure beginning in your gut. Oikawa’s groans became more frequent, and you can tell he’s worked himself up too much- he’s getting closer to his end.

His lips moved to your throat, where he began to suck a hickey into your skin. Sobs bubbled up through your lips and tears continued to escape under closed lids. 

You laid there and took it as his thrusts grew rougher, hips slamming into yours hard enough to leave bruises. Your orgasm hit you out of nowhere and you squirmed against your binds as little moans escaped you and white filled your vision. 

You come down just in time to hear Oikawa let out a loud, choked groan and a soft “Fucking take it!” and his slips slam against yours one last time. Heat blossomed inside you as his cock throbbed and released its load deep inside you.

He collapsed on top of you, panting heavily. His weight felt like it was crushing you and you struggled to breathe.

“Don’t worry…” Oikawa said with a breathy chuckle, “There’s no better boyfriend on this planet than me. I’ll take such good care of you.”