#it gets impossible to ignore the writing of this season
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cherry-berry-candy · 8 months ago
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see my issue with tv theory being true is that there's also like. 70 other things we need to resolve by the end of the next episode (imo)
why was susan twist appearing everywhere? what's the deal with ruby's mother, to whatever extent that will get answered? why was the master vainglorious playing (unless that was just a bad call and rtd/murray thought we just wouldnt think that hard about it? like it was weeping angel theme for zygon statues sort of deal? or it was some sort of bait?)? who is mrs flood? why was there so much susan foreman stuff going on (unless that was also purely a bait)? WHAT IS SUTEKH'S ACTUAL PLAN DURING THE EPISODE THERE ALSO NEEDS TO BE A MAIN PLOT
and then there's things from the trailer. where is this desolate wasteland? how do we get in the (ostensibly) real TARDIS? how do we get there and at a point where ruby and 15 are just like. preparing? on top of being in the memory TARDIS at one point?
do we have time for all of that and for a tv reveal? because that's going to require some Time
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hellobykittys · 2 months ago
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𝐒𝐇𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘 ✦ 𝐎𝐏⁸¹
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SUMMARY: You are Lando Norris’ twin sister and were completely obsessed with your brother’s teammate, but he was always avoiding you. NOTES: English is not my first language, so there might be some writing mistakes. I apologize for that, and feel free to point out any improvements. PAIRING: Oscar Piastri x Reader! Lando Norris’ Sister. WARNING: Hot scenes, but not explicit; use of Y/N; Oscar is very shy. WC: 4.7k
MASTERLIST | THE (IM)PERFECT PLAN SERIE
“You need to go a little easier on him,” Lando said as soon as he entered the small room, throwing his backpack onto the chair with a tired sigh. “Oscar’s shy, and you’re scaring the poor guy to death.”
You, leaning against the desk with your legs crossed and your eyes glued to your phone, ignored the first part of the comment. But the last part caught your attention.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, feigning disinterest.
“Oh, come on, don’t act dumb,” Lando shot back, crossing his arms with a smirk. “You’re cornering Oscar. I was going to let it slide because, honestly, it’s hilarious. But look, you’re going too far, and he clearly doesn’t know how to handle it.”
You realized denying it would be pointless. Lando knew exactly what you were doing, and probably the whole paddock did too. Maybe it was time to turn the tables in your favor.
“Did he complain about me?” you asked, now genuinely curious, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. “Because, seriously, I don’t get it. Sometimes it seems like he doesn’t care, but then, in the next minute, he acts like I’m the personification of chaos.”
Your voice carried a touch of frustration. Ever since you met Oscar last season, you had done everything to get his attention. Flirting, glances, little touches. But he always pulled away or acted like he didn’t notice. His shyness, which once seemed charming, was now starting to feel like an impenetrable barrier.
Lando laughed, clearly enjoying himself at your expense. “You know what’s funny? You think you can melt anyone with that smile and some games. But let me tell you, Oscar’s different. He’s more… reserved.”
“I know that,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “And that’s exactly why I’m trying harder. He’s not like the others. It just makes it more interesting.”
Lando shook his head, incredulous. “You’re impossible, you know that? But look, if you keep this up, he’s gonna start running away from you. Like, literally. One day, he’s gonna abandon the car in the middle of the track just to escape.”
You laughed. “He already runs, just in a way less obvious than that. But he’ll get used to it. It’s just a matter of time.”
“Or a restraining order.”
“Funny,” you replied, giving him a sharp look.
After a brief silence, you decided to change tactics. “You could help me out!” you asked, in an exaggeratedly sweet tone.
“No way. Stay out of this, Y/N,” Lando responded quickly, as if he already knew where this was going.
“You’re so heartless!” you retorted, with a theatrical touch. “I come every weekend to support you, and this is how I’m treated? You should, I don’t know, compensate me for always being by your side.”
“Support? You’re kidding, right?” Lando laughed. “The whole team already figured out why you’re always here. And the only person who might not have noticed is Oscar himself.”
“What slander!” you snapped, placing a hand on your chest as if deeply offended. “I come because I like my brother. And I thought he liked me too, but apparently, he doesn’t care enough to help me with something so simple.”
Lando just laughed and raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. What exactly do you want me to do?”
“Simple. Find out if he likes me or not. Easy, right?”
Before you could continue the discussion, someone knocked on the door, interrupting the conversation.
“Come in!” Lando replied casually.
The door opened to reveal Oscar. Your excitement was immediate. He, on the other hand… didn’t seem as thrilled to see you.
“I didn’t know your sister was here,” he said to Lando, hesitantly. “I didn’t want to interrupt. I’ll come back later.”
Before he could leave, you rushed to his side and lightly placed your hand on his arm, still covered by his racing suit.
“You don’t have to leave, Osc,” you said softly, your fingers purposely brushing against the fabric of his suit. “Lando and I weren’t talking about anything important. Feel free to stay.”
Oscar hesitated but eventually gave in. “Alright, if you say so…”
Oscar tried to pull away from your touch without being rude, and you, noticing his discomfort, decided to ease the tension and let him slip away.
“Well… I just wanted to ask about the car adjustments for tomorrow. But I guess I interrupted something…” He seemed genuinely uncomfortable, which only made you want to tease him even more.
“You didn’t interrupt anything,” you replied with a calm smile. “Actually, I’ll just sit here quietly while you two chat.”
With that, you sat down in a chair lost in the room, pretending to fiddle with your phone while you took the opportunity to observe Oscar. The way he spoke, gestured, or even furrowed his brow when something seemed confusing… it was fascinating.
The two of them spent a few minutes discussing technical adjustments for the car when they were interrupted again. This time, it was someone from the PR team, rushing in to inform Lando that they needed him for an urgent photo session.
“I’m on my way,” Lando said, standing up. But before leaving, he gave you a calculated look. “Oscar, can you stay here? Y/N was feeling a bit nauseous earlier, and I didn’t want her to be alone.”
Your heart skipped a beat. It was obvious he was making it up, but the feigned concern in his voice was flawless. You knew you owed Lando a big favor now, but it was worth it. For Oscar, everything was worth it.
“Seriously?” Oscar looked visibly surprised, casting a suspicious glance from you to Lando. “Alright, if she needs anything…”
“Thanks a lot, buddy,” Lando replied with a mischievous smile, giving Oscar’s arm a friendly squeeze before walking toward the door. “I’ll be back soon. Wait for me here.”
As soon as the door closed, you jumped up and practically ran to the couch, pulling Oscar down to sit next to you before he could even react.
“Thanks so much for staying, Osc,” you said softly, as if you were truly vulnerable. “I wasn’t feeling too great, you know?”
Oscar tensed next to you, clearly uncomfortable. He looked around, as if searching for an escape route. “Is everything okay now? Do you want me to get some water or something?”
“No, no, it’s fine, it’s passed,” you replied, placing your hand on his arm. “I just needed some company. I feel better this way.”
Oscar let out a nervous, short laugh and looked away, clearly trying not to acknowledge the closeness between you two.
“You look cute when you’re nervous, you know?” you remarked, a mischievous smile appearing on your face.
He opened his mouth to respond but seemed to lose his words. Finally, he muttered, “I’m… not nervous.”
“Oh, really?” you teased, leaning in a little closer, until there was almost no space left between you on the small couch. Oscar seemed even more restless, the blush on his face now impossible to hide.
“I think… we don’t need to be this close,” he managed to say, awkwardly trying to pull away. But, poor thing, there was nowhere left to escape.
“Osc,” you started, in a fake hurt tone, looking down at your hands. “I think you don’t like me very much.”
He seemed surprised, the tension in his shoulders easing for a moment. “Why would you think that?”
“Because every time I’m around, you try to get away.” Your voice sounded almost like a lament, and you took the opportunity to glance at him before looking down at your legs. “Did I do something to you?”
When you looked back at him, your face was perfectly molded into a sad expression, your eyes slightly glistening, as if you were truly upset. It was almost impossible not to believe it.
Oscar hesitated, looking genuinely puzzled. “No… of course not. It’s just that…” He stopped, clearly trying to find the right words.
“It’s just that…?” you encouraged, tilting your head.
“You’re… too intense, Y/N,” he finally confessed, his voice low. “I don’t know how to handle you, that’s all.”
A triumphant smile threatened to appear on your lips, but you held it back, keeping up the act. “Intense? I just… like being around you, you know? Is that really so hard?”
Oscar rubbed the back of his neck, visibly uncomfortable. “It’s not that. I’m just not used to… attention.”
“So, you’re saying I make you uncomfortable?” you asked, leaning slightly toward him, closing the space even more.
Oscar looked away, his ears turning even redder. “I didn’t say that.”
“Then what are you saying?”
Before he could answer, the door suddenly opened, and Lando walked into the room with that typical mischievous smile you knew so well. “Did I interrupt something?”
Oscar practically jumped off the couch, creating visible distance between you two. It was almost comical, but at that moment, you could only curse your brother. He had ruined the perfect moment. You were so close to getting what you wanted!
“No, no,” Oscar quickly denied, the words tumbling out almost in a rush. “Now that you’re here, I… I think I’ll head out. See you before the next practice.”
And without giving anyone a chance to react, he practically bolted out of the room, as if running away from a fire.
You let out a loud sigh, crossing your arms and shooting a deadly glare at Lando, who was still standing in the doorway, clearly enjoying your discomfort.
“You did that on purpose!” you accused, frustration clear in your voice.
“Me? No way,” Lando responded, feigning innocence as he closed the door behind him. “But you should’ve seen his face. Poor guy, he looked like he was going to pass out.”
“He wasn’t going to pass out!” you retorted, throwing a pillow toward your brother, who easily dodged it.
“Alright, alright. But seriously, Y/N, you’re being way too hard on the guy.” He threw himself onto the couch, taking the spot Oscar had just vacated. “Don’t you think he’s nervous enough already? Every time you get close, it’s like he forgets how to breathe.”
You huffed, sinking into the couch next to him. “Maybe he just needs to get used to me. It’s not that hard, right?”
Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “For you, maybe. But for him? Oscar is… different. He’s not used to someone like you.”
“Someone like me?” you repeated, intrigued.
“You know,” Lando explained, gesturing vaguely. “Someone who’s not afraid to say what they want and go after it. Oscar’s more… reserved. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you, he just doesn’t know how to react.”
You were silent for a moment, processing Lando’s words. Maybe he was right. Maybe Oscar just needed a little more time. But giving up wasn’t an option. Not now.
“Okay,” you finally said, a mischievous smile appearing on your lips. “I’ll go easy on him. For now.”
Lando laughed, clearly amused by your determination. “Good luck, sis. You’re going to need it.”
The next day, you positioned yourself strategically in the garage, waiting for the right moment to find Oscar. When he finally appeared, talking to one of the engineers, you calmly walked over with a relaxed smile, pretending you had no agenda in mind.
“Hey, Osc,” you greeted, your voice light and carefree. “How’s everything after yesterday? You seemed in a rush.”
Oscar turned to you, and it was almost funny how hard he tried to appear casual, even though he was clearly uncomfortable. “Oh, yeah… I was just running late for something.”
“Of course, of course,” you responded with a soft smile. “Well, I hope things are calmer now. Maybe we can chat after qualifying?”
He hesitated, shooting a near-pleading glance at the engineer beside him, as if he was hoping they could save him. But this time, something different sparkled in Oscar’s eyes. It wasn’t fear or discomfort. It was curiosity, though still shy.
“Yeah… maybe,” he finally replied, his voice softer than usual.
You smiled, already considering that a small victory.
Unfortunately, finding Oscar after qualifying turned out to be impossible. Lando secured pole position, and you stayed to congratulate him, while Oscar, with a disappointing P5, was swept into endless conversations with engineers and mechanics.
By the time it was late, almost time to head back to the hotel, you went to Lando’s room to grab your things while he wrapped up the last commitment of the day. That’s when fate decided to be kind.
The door next to your brother’s room opened, and who stepped out but the exact person you’d been hoping to see.
“Osc!” you called out cheerfully, a bright smile on your face.
“Hey.” His response was much less enthusiastic. The tone of defeat and frustrated expression clearly showed that he was still upset about the qualifying result.
“Bummed about P5?” you asked, trying to start a conversation.
“It wasn’t what I expected,” he admitted, crossing his arms. “But I’ll make up for it tomorrow.” There was a forced confidence in his voice that you didn’t miss.
“I’m sure you will! And look, I’m calling the podium: Lando in first, and you in second. What do you think?”
You stepped a little closer, almost unintentionally, trying to minimize the distance between you. But for Oscar, there was nothing subtle about your approach. He clearly noticed.
“You’re optimistic,” he commented, trying to ignore how you seemed to invade his space without hesitation.
“I’m not optimistic, I’m realistic,” you shot back, a mischievous smile playing on your lips.
Oscar looked away, clearly looking for an escape route, but you weren’t about to let him slip away so easily.
“Look, Osc,” you began, your tone softening as you leaned in slightly. “I really think you underestimate how good you are at what you do. You’ve got everything to be at the top. You just need to believe in yourself more.”
He blinked, clearly caught off guard by your change in tone. You saw the tension in his shoulders ease slightly, and that was enough for you to close the gap just a little more, your smile now sweeter than mischievous.
“You really think so?” he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.
“I know it,” you replied, sincerity shining through.
Oscar still seemed hesitant, but he didn’t pull away when you placed a light hand on his arm, your fingers resting casually. “You just need to learn to relax more. Maybe I can help with that,” you said, your voice almost a whisper.
Oscar swallowed, his eyes finally meeting yours. For a moment, you thought he was going to give in. He seemed torn between wanting to escape and something he clearly didn’t want to admit. You leaned in a little closer, feeling you were on the edge of success.
“You’re really hard, you know?” he murmured, the words practically floating between you two.
Oscar opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. And just as you were about to close the distance even more, he took a step back, almost stumbling into the wall behind him.
“I… I need to go,” he said quickly, his voice shaky but firm. “Good night, Y/N.”
Before you could react, he was already halfway down the hallway, walking so fast it was almost a run.
You let out a frustrated sigh, but deep down, you couldn’t help but smile. Little by little, Oscar was starting to give in, even if he still resisted at the last second. It was only a matter of time.
And you knew very well that you had all the patience in the world to wait.
The paddock was a well-organized chaos, with mechanics, engineers, and drivers moving around frantically as the grandstands filled with enthusiastic fans. You, of course, were there, strategically positioned in Oscar’s team’s garage, pretending to be just casually walking around but with a very clear goal in mind.
He was there, adjusting his gloves while listening carefully to an engineer. He seemed so focused, he could have blended in with the rest of the team. Almost. You, however, always managed to spot him in the crowd.
“Hey, Osc!” you called, walking into the space without any hesitation.
Oscar quickly turned, his eyes widening slightly when he saw you there. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”
“I came to wish you good luck, of course,” you answered with a sweet but mischievous smile.
“Good luck?” He seemed suspicious, clearly aware that you rarely did something that simple.
“Of course!” You tilted your head slightly, looking at him as if his question was absurd. “You know I’ll be cheering for you too, right? First Lando, and then you!”
Oscar opened his mouth to respond but closed it again, a blush already creeping up his face. He looked around desperately, almost as if hoping someone would save him from the situation. But, as you’d already noticed, no one was paying attention to you two.
“You’re kind of tense, Osc. It won’t go well like this, you know?” You stepped a little closer, lowering your voice slightly, but still clearly teasing. “Are you nervous because of me?”
“No,” he quickly replied, although his tone and the blush on his face said otherwise.
“Hmm… funny,” you murmured, pretending to think. “Because it seems like every time I get close, you get a little… uneasy.”
“Y/N, we’re in the pit… in public,” he whispered, almost as if trying to make you stop.
“So what? No one’s listening, and we’re not doing anything wrong, are we?” you shot back, a smile mixing sweetness and mischief on your lips. “I’m here to support you, Osc. And, speaking of that, I have a proposition for you.”
He squinted his eyes, clearly suspicious. “What kind of proposition?”
“If you get on the podium today… I’ll give you a special gift,” you said, leaning slightly toward him, your voice low but filled with mystery.
“What gift?” He looked at you, nervousness clear on his face, but at the same time, unable to hide his curiosity.
“It’s a surprise,” you replied, winking conspiratorially.
“Y/N…” He sighed, clearly trying to keep his composure. “You know you didn’t have to come here for that, right?”
“I know,” you answered, your smile growing wider. “But what’s the fun in cheering from a distance? Besides, you might not know, but I’m great at picking out gifts.”
Oscar seemed like he was about to say something, but one of the engineers appeared out of nowhere, calling him for the final pre-race meeting. He sighed in visible relief, almost grabbing the opportunity to escape.
“I have to go,” he said quickly.
“Good luck, Osc,” you replied, not hiding your satisfaction. “I’ll be waiting on the podium. And after the race… the gift is all yours.”
He didn’t reply, just nodded quickly before disappearing toward the engineer. You watched as he walked away, even more flushed than before, and let out a soft laugh.
This time, he had no way of backing out of the promise. And, knowing Oscar, the thought of a “special gift” would be enough to keep him thinking about you the whole time—on or off the track.
The end of the race was electrifying. You, as usual, were glued to the screen, following the final minutes with the anticipation of someone on the track. The last lap was a mix of tension and excitement. Lando crossed the finish line in first, and you couldn’t hold back your shout of joy. But what really made you jump out of your seat was when Oscar secured third place, holding off a fierce battle until the final flag.
“Yes! I knew you could do it, Osc!” you murmured to yourself, smiling proudly as you watched the celebration on the screen.
Soon, you were following the team toward the podium. The paddock was a party, with team members rushing to celebrate their drivers. You blended in with Lando’s engineers and mechanics but kept your eyes fixed on Oscar as he got out of the car, exhausted but visibly satisfied.
The celebration on the podium was contagious. Champagne flew from side to side, and Lando’s smile was so wide it seemed to light up the entire circuit. But your gaze never left Oscar, who looked more shy than ever as he raised his trophy. Even amid the celebration, he shot furtive glances at you in the crowd, which only made your smile grow.
As soon as the ceremony was over, everyone went back to the garage. The team was euphoric, celebrating the incredible result of the race. You found Lando first, who came running toward you with his trophy in hand.
“So, what did you think?” he asked, still sweaty and covered in champagne.
“You were amazing! Doesn’t even seem like my brother,” you joked, laughing as he hugged you and got champagne on your clothes.
“And Oscar, huh?” Lando commented, winking at you. “Are you proud of your favorite driver?”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “Don’t start, Lando.”
After the initial excitement, you began preparing to leave. Lando had some team commitments to take care of before heading back to the hotel, so you walked through the paddock, waiting for him. You bumped into Oscar, who seemed more relaxed, still talking to a few engineers.
“Congrats, Osc!” you said, with a genuine smile.
He quickly turned his head, as if he hadn’t expected you to appear there. “Oh, thanks,” he replied, a shy smile forming on his lips.
“I told you’d make it to the podium. Now you know what that means, right?” you teased, leaning slightly forward.
Oscar turned bright red, looking away at anything that wasn’t you. “I… think so?”
“Great.” You winked and walked away before he could respond, knowing exactly the effect you were having.
After a while, Lando finally appeared. “Ready to go?”
“More than ready.” You smiled, following him to the car that would take you back to the hotel.
Back at the hotel, the exhaustion from the race still lingered, but the excitement pulsed even stronger. Lando was sprawled on the couch in his room, talking nonstop about the race and, of course, the party that was about to happen.
“I need to get ready. What, you’ve got about 30 minutes before I drag you to the party?” you teased, grabbing your bag.
“Thirty? You’re being way too optimistic,” he laughed. “You wouldn’t be able to get ready in 30 minutes even if Oscar asked you to.”
“Oh, Lando…” You smiled slyly as you walked toward the door. “For Oscar, I’d do it in fifteen.”
Lando’s expression was priceless, but you didn’t give him a chance to respond. You walked out laughing and went straight to your room, already imagining how you’d make the night unforgettable. After all, a P1 for Lando and a P3 for Oscar was more than enough reason to celebrate in style.
You chose a stunning black Versace dress, fitting just right, and paired it with high heels from the same brand. But the special touch was in the details that no one would see—or rather, that almost no one would see: a papaya-colored lingerie set, matching the team’s colors, chosen especially for the occasion.
The team had reserved a table in the VIP section of a luxurious club. The atmosphere was pure euphoria—champagne, loud music, and laughter filled the air. As soon as they arrived, you made sure to sit strategically next to Oscar, who seemed out of place, unsure of what to do with all the attention around him.
“Osc, relax,” you murmured in his ear, smiling as you noticed he seemed more nervous than he had been during the race.
“I’m relaxed,” he replied, but the hand holding his drink was trembling slightly.
The conversation flowed with the team, but you made sure to provoke Oscar in little moments. You brushed your leg against his, made comments about how well he did in the race, and, of course, mentioned the “special present.”
“If I knew a P3 would make you this happy, I would’ve tried harder earlier,” he joked, trying to appear more confident.
“Oh, Osc, you have no idea,” you replied, smiling with an enigmatic tone.
As time went by, more people started to drift away from the table to dance or talk in other corners. Before long, it was just the two of you. That was your cue.
“So, Osc…” You leaned in a little closer, the loud music muffling the conversation. “About my present… do you want to know what it is?”
Oscar blushed instantly, looking away as he always did when he felt uncomfortable. “I… I don’t think I should ask.”
“Oh, you definitely should.” Your voice dropped low, almost a whisper, as your eyes challenged his. “I did something special to celebrate your P3. And maybe to encourage you to get more podiums in the future.”
He swallowed nervously. “I need… to go to the bathroom,” he said quickly, standing up before you could react.
You smiled to yourself. “So predictable,” you murmured as you followed him with determined steps.
Oscar looked genuinely surprised when you appeared in the hallway, blocking his escape route. “Seriously, Y/N? I just wanted a minute of peace.”
“No chance.” You took a step forward, cornering him against the wall, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. “I followed you to show you my present.”
Oscar looked at you, clearly uncomfortable, but his curiosity won out. “I don’t know if I want to see that,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, though the sparkle in his eyes betrayed his curiosity.
You laughed softly, almost amused, and slid the strap of your dress down, revealing a glimpse of the papaya lingerie, the color of the team. “See? Something special for my favorite driver.”
For a moment, Oscar was speechless, his face turning a deeper red than usual. But something seemed to have shifted in him, as if the provocation had awakened something. He took a step forward, closing the distance between you. The look he had now wasn’t shy, but challenging, almost provocative.
“You like to tease, don’t you?” His voice was low but filled with a newfound confidence that you didn’t expect. “But you know what, Y/N? You can’t last three minutes when the roles are reversed.”
The smile on his face made you hesitate for a second, and he immediately seized the opportunity. Without saying another word, he pulled you closer, his hands firmly gripping your waist. The warmth of his body against yours made your heart race, and before you could say anything, Oscar’s lips found yours.
It was an intense, heated kiss, as if he had been swept away by the wave of provocation you had started. Oscar's hands glided over your skin, as if memorizing every part of you, while you couldn't think clearly anymore.
When he pulled away slightly, his eyes glowing in a way you didn't recognize, you were speechless, your body still burning from his proximity and touch.
He leaned in again, whispering in your ear:
"Lost your voice, baby? Always knew you were just talk."
Your breathing was uneven, but you could only stare at him, completely lost.
He grinned to the side, satisfied with the effect he was having.
It didn't take long for him to attack you with even more intense kisses.
You were getting addicted to the taste, to the feeling of being touched by him.
One of his hands slid up your thigh, slowly rising inside your dress. He squeezed your butt firmly, and you couldn't contain a moan. He played with the waistband of your panties, starting to pull them down.
"What are you doing?" you asked, breathless. "Someone might see."
"Now you're afraid of being seen?" he continued, dragging the fabric down your leg. "You never cared before."
He knelt down, completely removing the piece of lingerie.
"But don't worry, baby!" He stood up, pressing his body against yours again.
"I'm not going to do anything here."
He kissed you quickly and pulled away, looking into your eyes while slipping the piece into his pocket.
"If you want it back, find me in my room later."
And just like that, he was gone, leaving you there, completely speechless and hungry for more.
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harmonysanreads · 13 days ago
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Anatomy Of A Hug
ᯓᡣ𐭩 ft. Phainon, Mydei, Anaxa
Heads Up : Soft Yandere themes, Anaxa needs to see a therapist, Written before version 3.1, My Delusions I guess. I merely missed them a lot and decided to write something silly quickly orz.
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-; ੈ♡˳ PHAINON
In the simplest terms, Phainon hugs with his everything. He's not shy to initiate skin-contact, will press himself to you accordingly — unless you voice out discomfort. He's diligent in wrapping his arms around your person securely, should you fancy melting in the bliss he offers. Though, his dexterity with hugs was honed through practice. In the beginning, the strength of a seasoned warrior had been more prevalent. A good amount of discussion (read: pleading to breathe) and experimentation snapped him out of the rush of pleasantries and reminded him of how precious a person he was dealing with.
Front hugs, back hugs, side hugs, bear hugs — he's okay with whatever you're comfortable with. His personal preference is going through all kinds of hugs he knows of manually ; first to shield you from all the evil that preys on your vulnerability, then scooping you up from the pull of gravity, a hearty squeeze to assure you of his protection, followed by a thrilling spin that will repel all bad thoughts out of your orbit. Until all the vestiges of weariness and stress have been replaced clean with the smiles he so adores.
Phainon is not one to be satisfied with short exchanges of warmth, the duration of these hugs tend to be quite long — or, as long as he can get away with before he has to commit to a Hero's responsibilities. Just as he initiates hugs with all of his soul, he expects the same when it comes to receiving them. Phainon prefers to be coddled, held with a promise of protection, ironically. Allow him to kneel and bring him close to your heart, weave your fingers through his hair, soothe the tension in his shoulders and he'll abandon the Flame-Chase altogether.
It's impossible to stir him in those moments, unless your safety happened to be at stake. As such, it's best for you to bid farewell to any other plans. Once he has memorized the nature of this exchange well, he goes beyond and utilizes it to deal with other nuisances. You cannot blame him, not when it has been proven that distracting you with a hug deters both the interference and yourself from paying heed to a mere passer-by. Sometimes his hug offers a bit less comfort and appears more as a shackle. Should you think to point this out, bear this in mind — your embrace is the last thread keeping his sanity intact.
-; ੈ♡˳ MYDEI
You must not care for your life at all, or at least, that's the thought Mydei found himself having when he was faced with the gesture. While the Crown Prince was not ignorant of the existence of a hug, he merely never had the opportunity to be properly acquainted with it. Not that it was necessary to know of it either, he can't win battles by hugging his opponents now, can he? As such, his reaction had been quite the spectacle when you initiated it. Begin by asking if he'd like a hug (throw in a ‘my prince’ at the end, sweetly), if his expression doesn't change then that means a ‘yes’, approach him calmly and wrap your arms around him next — be patient, he'll eventually reciprocate, given that you read the cues right.
If Mydei has to express affection, he'll do so in his own ways. It's already enough of an inconvenience that whenever he thinks of you, his head becomes blurred with clouds of emotions he's unable to decipher. That mushy sensation he feels inside whenever you have the audacity to hug him is just unfiltered agony to his mind. The journey to getting him less repulsed to the gesture has to be fueled by patience and understanding. Only when it clicks in his head that the feelings your hugs incite are not so dissimilar from the ones he gets by indulging in a plate of golden honeycakes does he warm up to the gesture.
Even then, Mydei is very particular about his preferences. Wave goodbye to the dream of spooning the prince any time soon, he's made it clear that that privilege is reserved for him alone. He'll always pull your head towards his chest and headlock you in place. If it's not possible to do so while standing, he'll sit down and gather you on his lap even — but he'll never allow his field of vision to be obstructed. Allowing this already renders you both vulnerable to attacks, he'll reason. He needs to remain vigilant, for the sake of your safety ; not that he'll translate the intention word by word.
Despite your efforts, you've discovered that ridding the prince of his stiffness is near-impossible, even if it's in private. His is not a life that's seen much comfort. Pay attention to the minute shifts in his eyes and you'll realize that the actual reason for his stilted posture, is because of the restraint he's exercising in unleashing his strength. It is a valid concern, he won't even need both of his hands to kill you. Death has rejected him countless times but awaits your departure in anticipation, he's merely mindful of its preying gaze.
-; ੈ♡˳ ANAXA
You are one fearless fellow if you initiated a hug with Anaxa, or you simply don't care about the fact that he's renowned as the scholar who most people are happy to avoid. The scholar in question would most likely call you an idiot though, you really need a thorough lesson in deciphering which men you must never approach. Not that he will be giving it, his time and energy are not to be wasted on such trivial concerns. Although he won't deny, with this brazen act, you've proven yourself to be a bit above the notion of ‘trivial’.
You think approaching the scholar is not so different from trying to befriend a cat, failure in the beginning is inevitable — only through persistence can you triumph. It's a task alone to try to acquaint yourself with him, getting him accustomed to physical affection might just be an acid test. The scholar has had no need for a rudimentary touch of another's skin, he'll say with a dignified hiss. But if you're observant, you'd know it's just a ruse to hide the depth of the depravation he's not allowing himself to acknowledge.
After much trial and error, when he finally bends to your efforts and accepts a hug, he's stiff and awkward, unsurprisingly. His hands wander as if settling on one place would burn his skin, face firmly hidden in the crook of your neck in what you can only assume is embarrassment. You would've teased him about the fierce flush on his ears and nape, if he hadn't ended the contact upon realizing his behavior. The scholar didn't dare face you for the next week, reflecting upon the incident vigorously.
Initially, his hugs were short, filled with muttered complaints to distract you from the firmness of his grip. The increasing average duration and his waning unwillingness towards the gesture did not go unnoticed by him at all. He knows the basic biological cause and it served as his rationale for quite a while. Yes, the reward system's activities are all there is to it, surely he possesses enough willpower to end this indulgence any time he wishes.
What he didn't anticipate though was you beating him to it, baffling him with your sudden consideration for his personal space. You are cruelty incarnate, conditioning him to this banal addiction and leaving him to deal with the consequences by himself? Now that is one preposterous claim to marvel at. It's wise if you cease pushing the man and retract your words. And if you don't? You're more than welcomed to repeat your jest at the firing point of his gun.
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venmondiese · 7 months ago
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The needs of a prince are the work of a whore.
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slight spoiler for season 2 episode 3 of house of the dragon
masterlist ✧works in procress ✧ A03
✧Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader ✧Rating: +18 mdni explicit ✧word count: 3.3k
-ˋˏsummary: after aegon's mockery at the brothel, he pushes Aemond into having another whore. Anything royalty asks for, it is the brothel's duty to provide. ✧Warnings: MDNI 18+, p in v sex, most of aemond's kinks lol, oral sex (m receiving), tiddy suckin, reader works in the brothel, tw: aegon in ep3, behaviour that reflects trauma. ✧ note: i had to write about this scene lol. i looooved to hint at aemond's response to trauma and how his mind works bc #psychology
“Brother!” The slurred voice came from behind him, and Aemond could practically smell his pestilence. He ignored his eldest brother, walking between the debauchery in the brothel. He never stayed longer to presence how whores were getting fucked and groped, as he didn’t enjoy staying longer than needed. 
The cold stone on his feet feel like a hold onto reality, as he tries not to stumble across drunkwards and their whores, as to where Aegon behind simply collides and curses them out, following Aemond.
“Your King commands you to stop walking” Aegon says loudly, a voice that he hears, but the rest of the brothel seems not to care. Aemond sighs, he breathes in, tired of Aegon. He doesn’t have any weapon, but he will strangle him to death in this very brothel, not caring if they are going to kill him the moment he touches Aegon. 
Aegon might humiliate him, but he is the most powerful attack and defence they have. Without Aemond, without Vhagar, they are nothing. They can stand a chance because of him. Because of Vhagar. Because he was brave enough to claim her, to the cost of his eye. 
He turns around, his face expressionless as he looks at his brother, naked as the day he was born. 
“Don’t be such a twat” Aegon says, his voice still dripping that mockness and cruelty Aemond was so used to.
It’s like Aegon tries to walk without staggering, but a young couple collides with him, almost making him fall.
“You imb-” The other drunkard insults him as he falls, and Aegon turns to see him. “My King-” the man stutters, as he tries to do the most pathetic curtsy Aemond has ever seen. And he has been used to seeing people bow to him all his life. “I didn’t mean to, forgive me” 
Aemond looks away, sighing as the man clings to Aegon’s feet, begging for forgiveness for cursing the King, and Aegon rolls his eyes, almost shaking his foot to get rid of him. Aemond rolls his eye as he starts walking away.
“Stop.” Aegon says as he sees Aemond walking away. “Brother, you will– It’s my duty, as king and elder, to finally initiate you, to make sure you are–” He rambles and Aemond sighs. If it's very hard taking his brother seriously before, now it is impossible with a man clinging to his feet and kissing his boots for forgiveness. “With… her”
Aemond turns his gaze to the young lass, standing dutifully behind the man clinging at Aegon’s feet, her hands clasped together as she looks at the ground, pretending not to exist. Doesn’t seem interested in getting in the mess that the royals have been in.
“Yeah, you” Aegon says, smirking as if he got a brilliant idea. “Quite new, aren’t ya?”
You hesitate, looking at Aemond and then Aegon, nodding. “Yes, my King” 
“Look” he says in a mocking tone, still slurred, as he steps closer to Aemond, finally having his feet free from the man. He places a hand on his shoulder, and gives him encouraging slaps. “A pretty young maiden for you.”
You look at the prince. If you were as young and a maiden as he presented you, you probably would not be here, he knows. 
“If it pleases my prince…” it’s your soft voice. 
Aemond clenches his jaw. You were pretty. The type of pretty that highborn ladies should be, and the eyes of a seductress. Not the type Aegon fancied, the ones who were lewd, and probably would crawl to Aegon and start grinding to get off. You see the type of woman that he fancies.
He is not used to it. Fuck a stranger. It’s… odd. He knew the madame, and she knew him. The comfort she gave him was different from fucking a whore amongst the rest. 
“Your King commands you to” Aegon says smugly, turning to see Aemond. “Time to get it wet”
Aemond has to breathe, considering murder. He closes his one eye, teeth gritting as he is so done with his brother. And to think that he has the power to tease him with no repercussions. 
“Find a room for his royal highness to use you” Aegon says to her, passing her a sack of golden coins, not having the decency of counting the money he was spending. You just grab it in your hand, as Aegon tries to push Aemond towards you, which he doesn’t grant him the right to. “Go on. Have fun, after all, one whore is as good as another”
As Aegon walks away, Aemond inhales sharply and looks at you. He already paid you, and he knows that with that amount, you’ll probably cling to his back and follow him until he dismisses your service.
You are shy to grab his hand, and guide him to one of the free rooms. The hour is late, so it’s busy. You have expected to get fucked in a corner, not in one of the fancy rooms with the prince. 
It’s relatively easy to get a room when Aemond is behind you, naked and with an unpleasant expression. Even if his face isn’t as familiar as the King’s, the sapphire is enough to recognise the Kinslayer. 
You accommodate the bed a bit, and you sit in the middle of it, looking at him with big eyes. He noticed you were good with your eyes, inspecting things about him, as if you were one of the ladies that sat in the dirty streets and offered to read palms. You just did it quietly, as you sat in the bed.
“What things do you fancy, my prince?” You ask softly. “I know many things”
He scoffs at the question, sitting on the edge of the bed. He knows you mean diverse acts of debauchery, from a lap dance to using your mouth for his pleasure. What would you know of things he liked?
“Shall I fetch you some wine?” You add softly.
“Fine” 
You move rather quietly, taking some wine and a cup for him. He is as good as inspecting as you; he watches your nervousness that you hide behind a calm facade. As you extend the cup to him, he makes his mind, standing up as he sips the wine, scanning at you, his only eye is as intense as it is intimidating. Yet you look back at him, sitting on your heels, in the middle of the bed. 
“Undress” 
As you unlace your dress, his eye lingers over you, watching your soft body be unveiled before his gaze, making him inhale again. You noticed that he did that quite often, as if to reorientate his thoughts. 
What he thinks is a mystery, because he is not expressive. He seems calculating, and you are not sure of what he actually wants. But you see his eye, lingering a moment on your body; your breasts. 
You might not know his thoughts, but you know the look of lust in a man’s eye. 
You crawl closer to the edge of the round mattress, looking at him as he has stayed standing there, inspecting you. It is clear that he doesn’t trust you, not as much as he did with madame Sylvi.
Perhaps it was the mockery of his brother, the cruelty that you witnessed, but you know that Aemond sees something in you that arouses him, and for you, that’s enough to keep going. It’s not like you don’t want him, he was not only a prince, but he was completely divine. His physique, and the way he was pure muscle, delighted you in the best ways possible. It was the body of a Targaryen prince, often said to be closer to god than men. 
“Allow me, my prince” you say, looking up to him. 
He looks down at you, and as he considers his options, you take the chance to look at his hardening manhood, sighing a bit, longing to feel the prince’s cock on your mouth. 
“Go on” he murmurs, his voice raspy as he looks down at you. 
You wish you knew better what he likes, but you’ll improvise a bit. You press a soft kiss on the lower part of his abdomen, slowly moving the kisses lower and lower, feeling his hard abdomen under your lips and moving to his crotch. You look up to him a last time, which he has not taken his eye out of your face. 
You take his hardening and growing cock on your hand, moving it slightly to the side to keep on pressing kisses on it. You feel the desire growing on your belly, and you accommodate your legs to lean forward a bit more, still moving your kisses down, fondling his balls in your hand as you keep on kissing him. More sloppy, wet kisses, kissing him almost tenderly, almost at the edge of pure lust. A primal need to keep on worshipping his cock this way. 
Lazy eyes turn up to see him once again, as he has his mouth open, panting as one of his hands moves to your hair, moving it out of your face as he licks his lower lip, before moving your face, just to slip his cock in your mouth softly. 
The mere fact that you are pleasing a prince, makes you shiver with pleasure. And not any prince, but Aemond. It was more like a privilege, in which you had no interest in wasting it. 
His cock invades your mouth, as he slowly moves your head for your throat to engulf him, but you are greedy; bobbing your head, looking up at him as he throws his head back, his silver hair spills over his shoulders as he savours the feeling. 
The way his hips rock rocks and push his cock past her lips, made her eyes roll back ever so slightly, as her tongue moved along the length. He pushes your face further into his groin, as he fucks her mouth with slow and deliberate strokes, his balls hitting her chin repeatedly, as he chases the arousing sensation of having his cock deep in your throat. 
“Brother!”
You don’t take your mouth off because you are not asked to. The King is rather drunk, and you see that prince Aemond is not in the mood for his antics.
“See?” Aegon asks in a mocking tone, as he steps in the room. “A good whore would get you-”
“We are busy here” Aemond says between gritted teeth. The humiliation tinted his cheeks pink, as his hand holding your hair hesitates on its grip. 
Aegon looks at you, and you gaze at him for a moment. An error, you realise as he speaks to you now.
“Do you enjoy him, girl? Or is he still a crybaby?”
You don’t miss the way Aemond’s fist clenches around your hair, and pulls you out from his cock. You look at him, as if asking for advice on what to answer. 
“Answer the King” Aemond murmurs, gritting teeth as he looks away.
“He’s the best I’ve ever had, my King”
“His royal highness has finally accomplished something on his own, I could probably enjoy you after he-”
“Though you might enjoy a-” Your voice interrupts him, and both men turn their gazes to you. “You might enjoy a new Lyseni girl here, your grace. Pure blood Valyrian”
Perhaps it’s the drunkenness of His Grace’s senses, but he doesn’t decide to have your tongue for interrupting him. Instead he claps, amused and happy. “Oh, finally some good advice around here” He says, patting Aemond’s back. “Good cunts around here”
Once he leaves, you turn to see Aemond. His jaw clenched, and biting his lower lip. You are a bit shy to keep kissing his body, as his hand leaves your hair. He seems to immerse himself in his thoughts.
You accommodate, looking up to him as you leave a shy kiss on his breastbone. 
“Do you wanna carry on, my prince?”
He blinks, slowly. You can see how the sapphire is brighter with the candle lights, and you hesitate if he wants to keep going. 
“Get on fours” he murmurs, not in the mood for more. You notice, a bit taken aback. But who are you to disobey? You are a whore, paid to do whatever your master wants. 
The position is rather familiar to you, as your knees touch the mattress and you slide your body forward to lean on your elbows, and you feel the weight of his body as he moves in the mattress, behind you.
You breathe in for a moment. King Aegon had partially killed the mood, but it didn’ stop your arousal for Aemond Targaryen. He was divine, and so was pleasuring him. You would follow him around, like a dog, always available when he needs you to pleasure him. And however he wants, you’d agree.
You feel his hands on your thighs, and his thumbs moving your folds as if trying to know your body by his hands. 
Sighing softly, your back is arching, relaxing more and more as you feel his heavy gaze on your body. You gasp a bit when you feel the tip of his cock passing through your wet folds, as if gaining the arousal back from it. You hear his groan, delighted as he pushes his hips quietly, passing his cock through your wetness like this. 
He doesn’t waste much time slipping his cock in, and your choked cries as he forces his way in, makes him know that perhaps you were not as experienced as other whores. He looks at you for a moment, cunt fluttering around his cock. 
“Oh gods…” you moan as you feel his hands on your hips, as his cock starts thrusting in and out of you.
Whimpers and moans fall from your mouth, as he fucks you. The genuine sound of your pleasure delights him further, fueling his desire for you as he fucks you deeply. The wetter you get, the rougher he gets. 
“Fucking- whore” he says through gritted teeth, and you feel your head blushing red with humiliation and arousal as he crudely say those words. 
“Y-Yes, my prince, u-use me…” your soft voice came as weak, breathlessly as your body bounces with each hard thrust he gives on you. 
It’s a delight to feel him like this, as you feel him slapping you ass. You bite your lower lip to stifle a moan, and grip on the bedsheets a bit more.
“Greedy whore” he murmurs, looking at you “You are drooling like a maiden would” 
Her body burns with shame at being called a greedy whore, but it only serves to make her want him even more.
Prince Aemond turns you on your back, as if something… feral woken up inside him. Animalistic and primal. You couldn’t know what, but it happened and the gods knew you were enjoying it. 
“Please… don’t stop” were weird words to come out of your mouth. To truthfully beg someone to keep going.
Aemond’s big hands came to slap your tits, and it stings, but more than hurting is making you feel only desire, heat and need. 
Seeing your body bounce as he fucked you, his cock slamming deeper eachtime, did something to him. You could see it, as he had his gaze firm on your breasts, from time to time taking a break to look at your face or your cunt, taking in his cock.
Another slaps on your tits, his hair falls down from his shoulders as his hips keep pounding into you. You see his chest, pure muscle as his abdomen tightens. And as you watched him, he watched you, before leaning in and moving his head to take one of your breasts on his mouth. 
Perhaps it is mere instinct as one of your hands comes to hold his head against your breast, a bad idea when it comes to a prince, but it only serves to fuel his arousal, and his cock is leaking more and more, as his greedy mouth keeps on sucking. 
Slight tears prick her eyes as his cock hits that delightful spot inside her, which many men often miss. But his cock hits it repeatedly, time after time, just to make your cunt clench around his more and more.
“I am going to cum, my prince” your voice comes as whiny, fine tears of arousal streaming on her cheeks, as you look at him, moaning around your breasts, before separating. 
He feels every detail of your orgasm, as the lewd sounds coming out from your mouth,vhow your body slightly trembles and your cunt clenching his cock, trying to pull him into an orgasm as well. He doesn’t miss the way you roll your eyes and bite your lower lip, and how your hips moved around his cock. 
Doesn’t take him much to cum either, as he feels his balls tighten up, as she pushes her hips slowly to meet his last lazy thrusts. He cums inside her, feeling her pussy milking him greedily. 
“Fuck” he groans, breathlessly, as one of his hand is next to your body as he leans, fucking the remains of his orgasm into you.
As the work is done, he pulls out and you take some minutes to gain your breath, looking up at the ceiling and trying to regain your thoughts after being blank from the pleasure.
But he doesn’t leave.
You move your head up, a bit curiously as you don’t feel the mattress lighten up due to the missing of his weight. He is still here, leaning back on the pillows as he pants a bit.
So he isn’t the type that disappears after fucking. 
You reincorporate, sitting up on the bed, in front of him as he has one eye closed. You suppose his missing eye, and the damage on it prevents him from closing his eye around the sapphire, and you find it a delightful detail of him. 
“You can stay as long as you want” you murmur. Perhaps he doesn’t want to go back to the castle, to the cruelty of the king. You are not one to know, but you saw how crude the King was. 
“Hm” his hum is the only sound he emits. 
“And… you can still request more things, if you desire so” you add, sitting by his side. “Anything, my prince” 
He knows of your lower status, because it is obvious. Calling him ‘my prince’ or Aegon ‘my King’ as the lowborns do. He looks at you, curiously.
“Very well then” he murmurs, laying back on the pillows, with you at his side. He is afraid of asking for comfort, of seeing Aegon walk in again and mock him more. 
He is different, you sense. In a way, he isn’t like the king, groping whores at his own delight, fucking them as if nothing, just to go on to the next one. 
Prince Aemond might fake it otherwise, but he is not like that. 
“Was it good?” It’s his voice. “I don’t have time for lies, girl. So don’t waste my time”
You turn your head to look at him. He seems tense still, his hands are on his knees as he is sitting, and you say the truth.
“It was the best I’ve ever had, my prince”
If it is a clear truth or a dirty lie, he doesn’t share his appreciation. He cuddles after some time next to you, and you open your arm to him. 
The needs of a prince are the work of a whore.
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motherismotheringggg · 3 months ago
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rhythm & heat
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summary: you and nicholas are co-stars in a fun and innocent PR relationship, the chemistry was already there so it just feels natural but something shifts when you, him and cast go out.
type: fem! reader x nicholas (i tried add some of Nicholas’ POV per my friend’s suggestion, it’ll be in red to stand out)
tags/warnings: 18+, fingering, oral (m! receiving), unprotected sex (wrap your willy yall) and creampie
author’s note: i’m having sooooo much fun writing again so thanks to everyone who’s been encouraging me to do it. i used to write in college and now that im 27 (almost 28 in january) it’s good to get back into it. i wanted to do something while im working on slow burn pt. 3 so i hope yall like it!!!!
🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩
The bass pulsed through the club, sending ripples of heat and sound through the packed dance floor. Neon lights flickered overhead, casting an electric glow over the scene as bodies moved in sync with the music. The air was thick with anticipation, the kind that made everyone buzz with energy, like something wild could happen at any moment.
You and your co-star, Nicholas Chavez, were out celebrating the wrap of the second season—a well-deserved break after months of filming. The first season had been a hit, with fans and critics alike praising your performances and the chemistry you brought to your characters. And of course, that chemistry hadn’t gone unnoticed. Rumors about the two of you had been swirling since the first season, with fans speculating about what might be going on off-camera.
And they weren’t completely off. Your and Nicholas’s teams had decided that hinting at a romance would be the perfect, harmless way to build buzz for the next season. You weren’t usually one for gimmicks, but you both thought it’d be fun, and honestly, with the chemistry you two shared on screen, the idea didn’t feel far-fetched. Playing at “dating” off-screen just felt natural.
There were moments on set where the boundary between acting and reality seemed to blur. In one particularly intense scene, you and Nicholas’s character finished having sex and his hands roamed in a way that made sense for the character but caught you off guard, you leaned in to commit to the scene but you remember leaving the set that day with your heart fluttering.
Off set, at interviews and press events, the playful banter you shared made the rumors almost impossible to deny. During one red carpet appearance, when a reporter asked what Nicholas liked best about working with you, he leaned close and, in a low voice, said, “She makes me forget we’re acting.” The reporters loved it, and you could feel your cheeks warm under the spotlight.
Even your off-duty moments seemed to fuel the rumors. You remembered the night you and Nicholas went to see Sabrina Carpenter in concert and to avoid the crowds, you were escorted through hidden elevators in the arena. One of the elevators was especially small, so when you were pushed inside with security guards and crew, space was tight. Somehow, you ended up in the back corner, pressed chest to chest with Nicholas, his arm slipping around your waist to pull you closer.
When you joked about it later, he laughed, claiming he was just “making room” for everyone. But you couldn’t ignore the way his hand lingered at your waist during the two-minute ride—or how, when you shifted to get more comfortable, you felt his hardness through his jeans.
There were countless other moments and with another press run coming up, it just felt like you were still both “in character” all the time but for tonight, you just wanted to dance, let loose, and get ready for another thrilling media cycle. You, Nicholas and a few costars decided to go out to a boiler room club in the city. None of you had planned on playing into the rumors tonight, but as the crowd grew, Nicholas slipped into “boyfriend” mode without a second thought. His hand found your waist, guiding you through the crowd; he held your hand, lingered close, and let his touches drift to intimate places whenever you danced or laughed together.
The night felt electric. Drinks flowed freely, adding a warm edge to the pulsing bass that reverberated through the walls and floor. Your group had claimed a private section overlooking the dance floor, with a perfect view of the swirling neon lights below. Fans would catch glimpses of you and the cast, looking up with wide smiles, waving, and cheering to show their love. Some even made heart shapes with their hands or mouthed “We love you” as they danced. Every now and then, Nicholas would slide his arm around your waist, pulling you close for a quick fan photo or to lean in as he spoke over the music, his breath grazing your ear.
Nicholas could hardly keep his eyes off you. Even in the chaos of the club, you stood out—like a spark in the dark, drawing him in. The energy around you, the way you moved, the way you threw back your head to laugh at something your friend said… it made his chest feel tight. He’d been watching you for a while now, unable to shake the feeling that tonight was different.
At first, it was all casual, harmless fun. But as the night wore on and the drinks kept coming, you couldn’t help but notice a shift. Nicholas’s touches lingered a little longer, his fingers resting at your waist even when the picture was done or the conversation had shifted. The way he looked at you changed too—his gaze softened, his words slower, and his attention focused entirely on you, despite the crowd around you both.
When the group began to dance, he stayed close, his hand brushing yours, fingers grazing along your arm, almost as if testing the waters. As the music thumped, he moved nearer, his chest pressing lightly against your back, his hand slipping down to rest at your hip. Every touch, every shared laugh, felt charged, and you could feel the tension building in each small gesture. You’d been close to him before, but this was different—the alcohol, the music, the night itself seemed to bring out something more raw.
His thoughts became a blur of want, fueled by the subtle way your lips parted as you looked up at him. The pull was irresistible, drawing him closer as he traced his fingers along the small of your back, letting his thumb graze your hip in a possessive but tender gesture. He was intoxicated, not just by the alcohol but by you, by the way you felt so effortlessly right in his arms.
As you danced, his heartbeat quickened, his breaths shallow and erratic. He wondered if you knew what you were doing to him—how just being close to you made it feel impossible to think straight. Every touch, every whisper, was like fuel to a fire that had been smoldering since the moment he’d met you. He couldn't ignore it any longer, the way you’d somehow slipped beneath his skin. He wanted all of you—the quick wit, the mischievous grin, the soft vulnerability he saw in your eyes in quieter moments on set. And tonight, he wanted you in a way that left no room for pretense or careful boundaries.
You two were dancing face to face, the music vibrating through your chest as you moved in sync. Nicholas leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear, the warmth of his breath sending a jolt of heat through your body. His voice was low and smooth, a touch playful, as he whispered, “How’s my girl feeling tonight?”
His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you in closer, pressing your bodies together as if there was any space left between you two. You could feel the solid muscle of his chest against yours, the strength in his arms as they wrapped around you, grounding you in the moment. The heat of his touch lingered where his fingers gently grazed the curve of your waist, sending a wave of electricity through your skin.
You were attracted to Nicholas, no doubt about it. Up close, he was all intense, striking features that seemed made for this low, pulsing light. His deep-set brown eyes held a mischievous spark, the kind that always kept you guessing and a little on edge, even when the cameras weren’t rolling. His jawline was sharp, almost sculpted, and as he looked down at you, the soft stubble along it caught the neon glow, adding an edge to his otherwise boyish charm.
As you looked up, his tousled dark hair fell a bit across his forehead, framing his face in a way that softened his piercing gaze. His lips, full and inviting, curled into a subtle smirk as he looked at you, as though he knew exactly what kind of effect he had. You felt his fingers shift at your waist, his thumb tracing small, almost hypnotic circles against your hip, bringing a flush to your skin.
Despite the undeniable attraction, you hesitated to lean into whatever Nicholas was offering. Playing “relationship” was fun, but you knew getting involved with a co-star was a risky move. You flashed him a playful smirk, your voice teasing as you responded, “Your co-star is doing fine.” You took a small step back, creating just enough space to break the intensity between you two. But it wasn’t enough to stop the flirtation—you secretly hoped he’d pull you right back in.
He wasn’t having any of it. “Stop playing with me,” Nicholas groaned, his voice taking on that low, almost dangerous tone you couldn’t ignore. He leaned back down, his face just inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. “You know I want you.”
His words sent a thrill coursing through you, the heat of his breath making your pulse race. Despite the hesitation, you could feel your body betraying you, urging you to close the space between you two again. His head lingered by your ear, his lips brushing against your skin, just barely a touch, sending a spark through you. Before you could pull back, his lips grazed the sensitive spot near your neck, planting soft, lingering “innocent” kisses.
The kisses were feather-light, almost teasing, yet each one felt like a jolt of electricity. They were gentle but purposeful, just enough to make your knees weaken and your womanhood tremble. His closeness, the warmth of his skin against yours, was intoxicating, and with every soft kiss, you found yourself craving more.
With a few sharp breaths and low moans, he knew he had you. The sound of his name on your lips, barely above a whisper, was all the confirmation he needed. You tilted your head to the side, offering him your neck, giving him full access to your skin. His hands, on your waist, pulling you even closer, his body flush against yours.
He didn’t hold back. His lips moved with confidence now, kissing the delicate curve of your neck with more urgency. Each kiss was deeper and more insistent, the pressure of his mouth leaving a trail of heat and need in its wake. His tongue darted out, tracing the sensitive skin beneath your ear, sending a shiver of desire straight through your body.
You could feel him smiling against your skin, sensing the way your body responded to his touch—how you instinctively leaned into him, drawn to the heat between you. His hands, bold and sure, roamed lower, the pads of his fingers grazing the curve of your back, sending a shiver of pleasure through you. The sensation was soft at first but quickly turned more intense, his touch growing bolder, more confident with each passing second. Every moment between you two felt like a slow burn, the anticipation building as his lips trailed over the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.
Then, when he shifted, you felt it—his hardness brushing against your thigh. The contact sent a wave of heat straight through you, an electric shock that heightened every nerve in your body. It was enough to make your pulse race, enough to make you realize how much you wanted him in that moment.
Without thinking, you reached down, your fingers gently grazing over the fabric of his pants, feeling the outline of him. The pressure of his body against yours, the growing heat between you two, made you want more—made you want to make him feel just as desperate for you as you felt for him.
You could feel the quickening of his breath, the way his chest rose and fell against yours. A low groan rumbled from his throat as you continued to trace his length, every brush of your fingers sending a thrill through both of you. His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you even closer, as though he couldn’t get enough of you either.
Without another moment passing, Nicholas grabbed your hand, his fingers tight around yours, pulling you through the crowded space. He moved with purpose, guiding you down the secret hallway the cast used to get into the club, away from the prying eyes and flashing lights. Each step seemed to quicken the pulse between you, the anticipation building with every turn. You felt his grip firm on your hand, but also the heat radiating off him, as though he couldn't wait any longer.
With just a few more steps, you found yourselves in the private dead-end hallway. It was dim, secluded—perfectly private. Before you could process what was happening, Nicholas had you pressed up against the cold wall, his body pinning you in place. The urgency in his movements left no room for hesitation as he slammed his lips onto yours, the kiss fierce, demanding. His mouth claimed yours with a hunger that mirrored your own, lips moving against each other as if he couldn’t get enough.
His hands weren’t idle either. One moved to your waist, gripping you tightly as if to keep you exactly where he wanted you, while the other traveled lower, finding its way to the waistband of your panties. His touch was deliberate and heated, and in an instant, his hand slipped beneath the fabric. His fingers brushed the sensitive skin just above them, the contact sending a shock of heat straight through you.
You gasped into his mouth, the electricity of his touch overwhelming, making every part of you ache for more. His fingers continued to tease, moving with slow, deliberate pressure, testing the limits of your restraint. He continued to rub and massage your sweet spot while you moaned and squirmed against his kiss. He pulled away just enough to watch you under his power.
From his vantage, you were a vision—utterly captivating in every response. He loved the way your eyes fluttered closed, only to open halfway, trying to find his gaze but faltering under the intense pleasure he was giving you. The way your teeth sank into your lip, trying to hold back the sounds you couldn’t suppress, only spurred him on. Each flick of his fingers brought a fresh wave of moans and whines, soft and breathy, laced with his name in barely-contained pleas. Hearing you beg him to take things further, to lose himself with you completely, made him feel invincible. He knew he had you right where he wanted, and he was savoring every moment.
You planted one last, deep kiss on his lips before sinking to your knees in front of him, never breaking eye contact. Nicholas’ gaze darkened, his breath catching slightly as he watched you with a mixture of anticipation and hunger. Your hands moved with urgency, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants, your fingers grazing over the heat radiating from his body. As you freed him, he let out a soft groan, his gaze fixed on you, filled with both awe and impatience.
His hands instinctively found their way to your hair, tangling in it gently as you looked up at him, the connection between you electric and unspoken. The way he was watching you—intense, with a mix of excitement and restraint—made your pulse race. His pupils were dilated, his breathing uneven, and you could see the anticipation building in his expression as he waited, every part of him attuned to your next move.
As you leaned closer, he tightened his grip, his fingers brushing against your scalp, guiding you but letting you set the pace. You started slow, savoring every moment, every reaction, feeling his muscles tense and hearing his breaths turn to low, needy moans. His chest rose and fell heavily as he fought to keep control, his head tilting back slightly as he surrendered to your touch, murmuring your name in a rough, breathy tone that only made you want him more.
Every time you paused to swirl your tongue around his tip, Nicholas' whole body tensed, his breathing turning shallow as he let out a low, drawn-out hiss. The sound of your name on his lips, mixed with whispered curses, filled the air. He couldn’t help himself, alternating between breathless moans and deep, husky praises. “God, you’re such a good girl,” he murmured, his voice filled with a raw, admiring intensity. “You look so beautiful taking me like this.”
With each word, his grip in your hair tightened just enough to keep you where he wanted. His hands were steady, yet you could feel the slight tremor in his fingers as his need for you grew. Finally, he held your head in both hands, his gaze locked on yours, guiding you with a slow, deliberate motion. He pushed himself deeper, filling your mouth as his hips rocked in rhythm, pressing him to the back of your throat. The sounds escaping him were desperate yet controlled, each ragged breath carrying his satisfaction.
“Look at me, baby,” he whispered, his voice dropping to a breathy, gruff murmur, thick with desire. “Let me see those pretty eyes.” His gaze was commanding yet filled with an undeniable admiration, and as you met his eyes, he let out a deep, shuddering breath, fully captivated by the sight of you. The connection between you was intense, wordlessly conveying his appreciation for everything you were giving him, every shiver and sigh pulling him closer to the edge.
Your throat tightened slightly as you tried to take all of him, a small gag escaping despite your best efforts. Nicholas chuckled softly, a low, satisfied sound, and his hand moved to gently tap your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with a subtle affection that made your heart race. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, pride evident in his tone.
His hands slid down to your shoulders, pulling you up to meet him, and the moment your lips touched, he captured you in a deep, consuming kiss. It was passionate, full of hunger and appreciation, and he groaned against your mouth, relishing in the taste of you. He leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes filled with a soft, smoldering intensity. “You did so good, baby,” he whispered, his voice rough yet tender. “You looked so perfect, taking me in… just like I always knew you could.”
Each word sent a wave of warmth through you, and his hands stayed on your hips, grounding you, his gaze never straying from yours. He ran a thumb over your bottom lip, still swollen from your efforts, his gaze filled with both desire and genuine admiration as he traced your features, savoring every moment and every breath shared between you.
Nicholas could feel the anticipation radiating off you, your body responding to his every touch and move. He knew just how much you wanted him, and he wanted to give you everything you craved. With deliberate slowness, he turned you around, pressing you gently forward. His hands slid up your thighs as he lifted the hem of your dress, savoring the soft, heated skin beneath. In one fluid motion, he pulled down your panties, his lips still trailing along your neck and shoulders, leaving a trail of warm, lingering kisses that made your breath quicken. He groaned into your ear, his voice low and thick with desire, reveling in the way your back arched, your body silently pleading for more.
“I wanna make you feel so good,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. His hands roamed over your hips as he positioned himself behind you, letting his tip trace over your folds, teasing you until you were trembling in his grasp. The first sensation of him entering you made your breath catch, a shudder running through both of you as he filled you, slow and deep. You instinctively moved in sync, bodies finding a perfect rhythm, every thrust sending a wave of pleasure through you.
Nicholas buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath coming in rough, heated gasps as he lost himself in the moment, savoring every pulse and movement of your body against his. You reached back, threading your fingers into his hair, giving it a gentle tug, and he let out a breathless whimper—a sound that only made you ache for him more. His need to be in control fueled you, but there was something thrilling in the way he let you pull him back, every now and then, giving you the slightest taste of control.
You guided one of his hands from your hip, pressing it down between your legs. He understood immediately, his fingers finding and massaging that sensitive spot, adding another layer of intensity to your connection. He quickly obliged, his touch skilled and deliberate, and you felt yourself unraveling under the dual sensations, every nerve heightened, every thought fading into pure, unfiltered bliss.
Nicholas’s pace quickened, and with every movement, he brought an intensity that made you lose yourself further with each second. His hands roamed your body, seeking out every place that could make you unravel under his touch. One moment he’d slap your ass, and in the next, his fingers wrapped around your neck, adding a delicious pressure that only heightened the sensations. He reached between your legs, his fingers brushing against your heat, before gently tilting your head, exposing more of your neck so he could plant hungry, open-mouthed kisses there. The air around you both grew hotter, more electric, and you could feel that familiar pressure building, bringing you both to the brink.
He leaned into your ear, his voice thick with need, a hint of desperation woven into it. “I want to cum for you, baby,” he breathed. “Tell me how bad you want it.”
Your voice came out in a shaky whisper, overcome by the sensations he was giving you. “Let’s do it together. I’m so close,” you pleaded, feeling yourself hovering right at the edge. His thrusts stayed steady but powerful, his head buried against your neck, breaths hitching and moans deepening. His grip on your hips tightened, guiding your body to match his rhythm perfectly, every stroke hitting deeper, more intense.
Nicholas, always the performer, could feel just how close you were, but he wanted to hear it. His voice was a low, teasing growl. “Tell me how much you want me, baby,” he commanded. “Tell me how good this feels… tell me who you belong to.” With each demand, his movements became more forceful, every stroke making you lose control a bit more.
He was close too, a raw intensity filling each thrust, and just before the finish, he grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling your head back to make sure he felt every shudder of your response.
“Are you ready, baby?” he gasped, his tone shaky as he was right on the edge. You tried to say his name, but the feeling was so intense, it came out as a breathless, pleading sound. You nodded, barely able to form words as your body responded, every nerve lit up as you both finally reached your climax.
As he spilled into you, the sensation sent waves of warmth through your entire body, making you moan out, your voice just barely above a whisper but full of satisfaction. Your body shuddered, every nerve still singing from the overwhelming release.
Even as you tried to catch your breath, he gave you a few more slow, teasing thrusts, drawing out every last tremor until you were completely undone. Each lingering movement kept you in the moment, his body still pressed firmly against yours, leaving you weak and trembling beneath him.
A satisfied smirk played across his lips as he felt you react, your legs shaking as his hands traveled slowly up your sides, grounding you through the aftershocks. He murmured in your ear, his voice low and full of pride, "You’re so fucking hot when you cum...just like I always imagined" His fingers traced gentle circles along your waist, savoring how soft you felt under his touch.
With a final, breathless sigh, you turned to face him, pressing your forehead to his as he caught his breath, his thumb grazing softly over your cheek.You both stayed like that, basking in the warmth between you, as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, leaving soft kisses along your shoulder and neck, his way of savoring every last moment.
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heian-era-housewife · 8 months ago
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Sex, Smut, & Scuttlebutt
Lately I've seen a growing number of virgins, "new-cummers", and even seasoned sex vets voicing their concerns or frustrations with the unrealistic portrayal of sex within smut. Adult fictions are so fun to read and write and even more fun to act out in real life (with a trusted partner), but they are fiction. Quite often exaggeratedly so and in no way representative of what really goes on behind closed doors, or open (you do you babes).
Nevertheless these concerns and frustrations are real, they are valid, and they deserve to be acknowledged. And so, without further ado, I present to you the very real, very raw, and sometimes very unsexy side of sex.
(Though tbh nothing Ryomen Sukuna does could ever be categorized as 'unsexy')
Love to you all, no matter your experience 😘
Pairings | Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Choso, Higuruma, Toji, and of course Sukuna 💕
Content | mdni, smut, fem!reader x jjk men, piv, oral (both f-to-m and vice versa), pubes, blood, sex on period, first time, Toji eats a worm. It's fine. Don't worry about it.
Word Count | 3.3k
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Gojo:
White Hair...Everywhere
You've been ignoring it for a while now. Well...trying to anyway. The faint tickle on the back of your tongue has grown into a sharp pinprick that jabs at your throat with each bob of your head. It's uncomfortable, it's distracting, and worst of all it is threatening to trigger your gag reflex.
Gojo gasps and whimpers, long fingers running through your hair, pulling you toward him as he edges closer to his climax. It's all you can do to focus on the task at hand when his sudden thrusts render the job impossible. You gag and sputter against the source of your irritation, eyes streaming as you pull away from his hungry cock. 
Confusion and poorly concealed dissapointment in his words of longing barely register as you wretch, two of your own fingers stuffed to the back of your throat. 
You turn to meet his eyes with yours still streaming as you reveal the cause for disruption. With your middle and index finger you pull a long, coiled, pure white hair from deep within your throat. 
"I think this belongs to you," you tease, wiping drool from your chin and flicking the stray pube his direction.
"Oof. My bad," he squirms, one hand sheepishly rubbing against his undercut. 
"Shall we resume?" You offer with a playful smile, making a show of patting away his snowy bristles before taking his twitching length back into your mouth.
"Phewww!" He whistled. "I thought for a second sexy time was over!"
"It wiw be ith you don' shu-up," you mocked, mouth full and voice muffled. You reached a hand around to give one of his ass cheeks an impish squeaze for good measure. Gojo laughed playfully before falling back into a steady rythm of whines and whimpers.
Geto:
Welcome to the Jungle
Unwaivering confidence was one of the things you loved so much about Suguru Geto. On a scale of 1-10 his sex appeal was an 11 and you were about to find out for yourself exactly why he was so damn self-assured.
You, on the other hand, couldn't help but obsess over all your flaws and imperfections. Your outfits, those stretch marks, and was that =sniff, sniff= body odor?? 
But this was not the time to get lost in insecurity because you were perched pretty as a peach on his apartment sofa while Suguru stood, hastening to undo his belt, never once relinquishing that calm and cocky smile.
You gazed at him loftily, cheeks growing flushed, heart pounding in your ears. Your groin ached with longing as he stripped down to plain black boxer briefs and reached forward to help you down to bra and panties. Nerves and excitement churned in your core creating a volitile compound that set your heart ablaze. It was all too good to be real.
Finally, he guided your hands toward his own hips, placing them on the hem of his boxers, inviting you to remove his final garment.
Your brain buzzed with electric anticipation as you pulled downward, revealing that which, until this moment, you had only imagined. 
And there it was. 
And there you were.
Your buzzing brain cutting to standby as static filled your senses and every decision you'd ever made leading to this exact point in time sent you into a hurling spiral of doubt and regret.
Because Geto had shaved.
And you had not. 
Not now...not ever. Frankly, it hadn't even occured to you before. 
Insecurities came flooding in causing you to lose yourself entirely until the gentle touch of his strong hand on your pantyline dragged you forcefully back to your grim reality.
"NO!" You shrieked, pulling frantically from his reach. 
"Oh! Have I hurt you?" He asked with concern as you wished with every fibre of your being for a quick and painless death. 
"It's just...you're so pretty," you breathed, lip almost trembling as you spoke.
"I'm glad you think so," he said, cocky little smile returning to his perfect playboy face.
"And I'm...well..." you slipped off your own panties awkwardly, revealing a lush and uncut jungle, knowing you were already past the point of no return.
"You're.....?" Suguru prompted.
"I'm...you know...this!" You gestured to your unkempt garden.
"You're...female?" He finished, confused.
"NO!" He was missing the point. "I'm a gross unshaven mess! And you're...what? The centerfold of next month's Playgirl?"
Geto laughed, much louder than you expected, snorting as he did so. "That's what you're worried about??"
"That and a million other things...yeah!" You sulked, tears brimming your lashes as you slumped, defeated against the sofa.
"Come here," he said, pulling you close, forgetting entirely about his unclothed state. "I think you're sexy just the way you are. And, if I'm being honest, shaving is a real pain in the ass anyway."
Giggling to yourself, you watched as his impressive length grew soft and diminished as his arousal shifted to concern for you. 
"Hey!" He objected, throwing a pillow over his lap. "He was just worried about you, give him a minute," he teased.
Both of you laughed as you snuggled on the couch together, sharing doubts and insecurities, reassuring one another, and settling in for a long night. One full of love making that was sure to be genuine, sometimes awkward, but far better than any magazine.
Nanami:
Corporate Cock Block
Nanami was pent up. Not only had he been called on a particularly large number of missions this week, he'd been forced into overtime nearly every day. Now that he was home, he was desperately looking forward to nothing more than dissolving in your arms and seeing where the night might take you both.
Needless to say, he was more than thrilled when you suggested skipping dinner and going straight for dessert. That's right. You were pretty pent up yourself. And who was he to deny his pretty and incredibly patient wife what she needed?
"Thank you-hah-for being so-mhh-understanding this-hahhh-week", he breathed through passionate kisses, slipping off his suspenders and tossing his goggles to the side.
Movements punctuated by more steamy kisses, you helped him take off his tie and belt while he worked his fingers up and under your shirt to skillfully unsnap your bra.
He backed you down the hall and together you fell onto the bed, both panting in excitement as clothing fell hastily to the floor.
Just then, the phone rang. His phone. Illuminated harshly against the evening's fading light revealing none other than Satoru Gojo as the caller. Nanami went rigid.
"Hun," you said softly, "it's okay if you need to-"
"No." He asserted, cutting you off. "He's had enough of my time. I'm off the clock and I'm spending this evening with my wife."
The seriousness in his tone was all you needed to know it was case closed, so as he let it go to voicemail, the two of you resumed your game of lips and hands.
Time passed, Nanami was absolutely aching for you, and you were practically trembling in anticipation. As he lined himself up, you closed your eyes ready to melt at the feeling of him entering your throbbing core. And that's when it happened. Again. The name "Satoru Gojo" shone through the darkness as Nanami's phone lit up your room.
"I'm going to kill him," Nanami said calmly, head hanging in frustration as he imagined all the ways he could cleave his obnoxious coworker in a perfect 7:3 ratio.
"Kento..." you whispered, bringing him back to reality. "I really don't mind if you need to-"
"Absolutely not! This is our time. You and me."
"But what if he needs-"
"There is nothing he could need from me that is more important than what's right in front of me," voice dripping with sincerity.
"I love you, Ken."
"I love you too. Truly," he replied. "Shall we?"
Picking up where you left off, he gave himself a few quick strokes before plunging deep into your core. Tension and relief unraveling as he worked his strong hips passionately between your shaking legs.
***
As the love making continued, a new tension was building within both of you and Nanami could feel himself reaching his climax, breaths coming sharp and shallow as he felt his nearing release.
"Im so close," He breathed.
"Me too, baby," you gasped.
And then...
=RINGGGGGG=
Nanami cracked.
Snapping up his phone while pounding the ever-loving life out of you, you heard his voice loud and hostile as he snarled into the speaker.
"Satoru Gojo, so help me God I have half a mind to cut you down where you stand. Do you know how long I've waited to FUCK my WIFE?! How many nights this week I had to give up SEX with HER just to follow your sorry ass around chasing curses and cleaning up the FILTH of this city?! I was about to give her one SPECIAL GRADE, MIND-BLOWING ORGASM before you-" he stopped thrusting, blood draining from his face, feral sneer dropping into a hollowed out look of utter humilation.
"Principal Yaga I- of course, sir, I'm so sorry...Yes..yes..right away. I understand. Again, I'm so- no of course not. I appreciate your discretion...I'll see you soon...bye."
Your eyes widened in horror as you listened to his conversation, unsure which end was worse.
"I..uh...I have to go. I'm needed at the school," he muttered sheepishly, unable to meet your shocked gaze.
"Yeah, I gathered that," you said with a nervous laugh.
You helped him get dressed, giving him a tight hug and wiping the beading sweat off his brow as he stumbled back out the door.
"Kento!" You called as he headed in the direction of the school. He turned to look at you, defeat written in his tired features. "Come home safe, okay?"
"Of course, love," he rasped, weakly.
"You still owe me that 'special grade, mind-blowing orgasm'," you teased with a wink.
Shaking his head, you heard him laugh as he hurried toward his next mission.
Higuruma:
Erection Overruled!
Hiromi's long week has finally drawn to an end and as your tired and more-than-likely dishevelled man makes his way home to slump into his favorite chair and fall asleep, you want to make sure he gets to finish the week out properly. You've spent the afternoon hard at work yourself, cleaning up, picking just the right music, and slinking in to that silky little black robe you know he loves slipping you out of.
The mood is set, candles are lit, and as if on cue Higuruma stumbles in through the front door, dropping his briefcase, and sagging languidly into his favorite chair. You approach from behind, running fingers through his dark and unkempt hair, tipping his head back with a provocative "Welcome home," allowing him to savor the view.
Experience tells him there's not a thing beneath that robe and his eyes grow wide and hungry as he scrambles to his knees, facing backward in his chair to take you in. He burries his nose against you as he presses passionate kisses to your collarbones, moving to nip at your neck, trailing his tongue upward and landing just below your earlobe before whispering , "I've waited all week for this."
One very steamy makeout session later, you find yourselves in the bedroom, working quickly to remove each other's clothing, air thick with ravenous longing. But as you slip him out of his trousers taking his not even half-hard cock into your loving hands, things start to feel a bit off.
Nothing a few good strokes can't fix, you think to yourself, stealing a downward glance at his would-be errection-  flaccid, but hopeful.
~
Some time later there's still little change in terms of rigidity and you notice the exhaustion building behind his determined features. Knowing his pride is at stake, you start to wonder if it might just be best to let your tired man rest and resume love making another time. Opting for a mix of tact and humor, you make the judgement call.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the court, I move to postpone today's proceedings until the defendant can get some well-deserved and very much needed rest."
Hiromi's eyes snap open. "Objection!" He barks automatically, surprising himself.
"Overruled!" You reply, tapping his tip once against his tummy as though holding a gavel. 
A moment of silence as you stare at each other seriosuly and then...
"PFFFTTT!" You both burst out laughing at the ridiculous scene. He pulls you in for more kisses and you lay together wiping tears from your eyes as the laughter continues. 
Turning on his side he offers, "Motion to reconvene tomorrow morning?"
"Motion granted!"
More laughter. A heavy sigh and then, "Thanks for understanding," he says.
"Impartiality is my job, afterall," you continue the act. 
Pulling your head to his chest he scruffles your hair until you fight him off, giggling. 
This isn't the first and probably won't be the last time your romantic pursuits as a couple are thwarted by exhaustion, but you know that with a little patience and a good night's sleep he'll be a different man come morning, when your courtship is back in session.
Choso:
Shark Week 
Choso's not just new to sex. He's new to life itself. Loving him brings you the unique opportunity of experiencing the world for the very first time through his eyes. 
The eldest of his brothers, he's already learned so much, but he still relies on you to guide him through his many firsts as both a lover and a mentor for all of life's unexpected moments- the good, the bad, and the painfully awkward. 
That is why, when you hear a sharp, panicked little gasp as he pulls out of you, dick still twitching from his orgasm just moments before, you suspect you are in for another brand new encounter.
"What's a'matter Cho?"
"Uhm..." He swallows hard, eyes trained downward. "It's...it's not there."
"What's not there?" You question, sitting up against your elbows trying to glimpse whatever it is he's staring at.
"The condom," He says weakly, mouth going dry. "It's just gone!"
"Ohh!" You reach a knowing hand between your legs. "It probably just came off inside me."
"Is that bad?!" He asks, voice thick with worry.
"Not necessarily. You can probably just pull it out if it's right there."
He slides two hesitant fingers over your entrance, feeling for the rubbery traitor that's caused him such distress. 
"Oh! I found it!" He sighs, relieved, pulling it gently from your core.
"See? Nothing to worry abou-"
"OH NO!" He cries, forcing you to sit up in alarm.
"What's wrong? Is it ripped?"
"You're bleeding! There's-" He looks as though he might pass out. "There's so much!"
"What?! I-" Realzation hits you as he holds up the stretched out condom, slick with glossy crimson. Feeling between your legs, you pull your hand away, stringy and viscous from a mix of blood and fresh arousal. 
"Oh Cho I'm sorry. I think I started my-"
"I can't believe I hurt you! I thought I was being gentle! Maybe it's my cursed technique?? No...that can't-" 
"Cho I-"
"I can fix it! Hang on let me just-"
"Choso!" He pauses his string of frantic babble to look at you. Deep lines etched across his troubled face. "Cho, I think I just started my period," You say, reaching your other hand to comfort your worried man.
"Oh. You mean 'shark week'?"
You laugh as he recalls the nickname you taught him for that notorious time of the month. "Yes hun, shark week."
"Was it...because of me?" He asks, eyes brimming with shame and guilt.
"No, my love!" You giggle at his innocence. "Just a coincidence. I'm sorry I scared you!"
A wave of relief washed over him as he clutched his chest, watching you get up and head toward the bathroom. 
"I thought maybe I broke you somehow..."
"I know, sweet boy," You called from the hall. "You did nothing wrong. But when I come back we're going to cuddle like there's no tomorrow!"
"That....sounds nice" he said with a sigh, collapsing backward on the bed, brain tired and foggy from the day's latest lesson. 
"Wait!" He called, suddenly excited. "Does this mean chocolate ice cream and movie night??"
"You really are a quick study!" You praise.
Running to grab the ice cream he calls, "I think I can get used to shark week!"
Toji:
Three's a Crowd
Toji is a lone wolf. An elusive rogue agent. He holds everyone at arm's distance, including you. That is...until recently, anyway.
What started as casual hookups in seedy bars and late-night love hotels, hell even the back of a cab once (actually maybe twice...you were rather drunk), has turned into pseudo dates and sober conversation. To be honest, you've fallen pretty hard for your man of mystery and the last thing you want to do is scare him off now. That's why, when he finally invites you to his place for the first time, you're determined not to blow it.
"It's not much, but it's home." He says, leading you through the front door of a shabby back-alley apartment. Despite his somewhat delinquent nature, his apartment is well-kept and the made-up bed you spot through an open door near the back looks far more inviting than the sleazy moth-eaten matresses and dive bar sofas where you've been spending your less-than-romantic moments.
Grabbing his hand, you practically drag him back there, excited to see where he lays his head at night, smell the cologne on his sheets. He stumbles behind, a goofy yet seductive grin stretching the scar on the corner of his lips that you're just dying to taste.
As you step into the darkened bedroom, a small sound grabs your attention. Atop the dresser something is breathing- sputtering. You pause, trying to get a look at the noise's source, realizing Toji must have a pet. Your heart skips as you imagine this macho miscreant returning home to a small, soft animal for whom he shares a rare bit of affection. Fucking adorable.
The creature, appearing only as a shapeless mound at first (is it a cat?) turns to look at you. And that's when you freeze. Because there in his room, peering at you through swollen, squinted eyes, frothy drool dribbling down its pudgy face, is a gigantic....worm???
"Toji!" You gasp, turning back to hide behind the muscular arm you're now grasping for dear life. "What the hell is that thing?!"
"Oh." He says curiously, "You can see it?"
"OF COURSE I CAN SEE IT, WHAT DO YOU MEAN?! THING'S FUCKIN' HUGE!"
"Heh," he chuckles, amused. "It won't hurt ya. C'mere."
Without even another glance at the demonic creature, Toji pushes you against the bed, bringing his large frame down over you, rutting his hips as he feasts hungrily on your neck. You want to lose yourself in the throes of his passion, you really do. But all you can think about is the thing on the dresser. Turning under the weight of Toji's advances to see if it's still there, you find yourself making direct eye contact with the hideous overgrown catarpillar.
You can't believe he's not distracted. Can't believe he hasn't said a single word about the little drooling monster. And as Toji makes quick work of undressing while he hovers over you, you find yourself unable to contain your inner thoughts.
"Toji...it's so...long!" You say, eyeing the thing warily.
"Mm...I know, Doll," he agrees.
"I mean like...it's gigantic!" You mewl covering your eyes in disgust.
"Hah...so I've heard," he admits, slipping off your panties from beneath your skirt.
"And it...I don't know...it looks hungry. Like...it's about to tear me apart..."
"If that's what you want, love," he growls with a forward thrust.
"Seriously, Toji, I don't know if I can do this! It's just so gross!"
"...Gross?" He looks like he's been punched in the gut.
"Yeah! Gross and purple!"
"Purple?!" Pulling out, he stares down at his cock. "Fuck you mean, purple?!" Then, following your gaze he says, "You're not still on about that damn worm, are you??"
"What did you think I was talking about?!"
"Look, if it bothers you that much, I'll get rid of it." Without another word, he gets up from the bed, crosses the room to the dresser, takes the creature in his hands before crunching it down into a tiny ball and swallowing it whole.
"Now are we gonna get freaky or what?" He huffs.
Oh, we are wayyyy past freaky, you think to yourself.
Who the hell was this mysterious man of yours? You're left with more questions than answers. But despite the horror you just witnessed one thing has you smiling...arm's distance or not, you doubt very seriously anything you do could scare him off.
Sukuna:
Thousand-Year-Old Virgin
Sukuna is a hardened, battle-ready, godlike being of prowess and prestige, decorated by time itself. Stranger to no man and no challenge, his many achievements transcend the millenia. He has seen and done things even those with rich and deeply fulfilled lives will never experience.
Let's face it, he's a thousand fucking years old. So that's why, when he mumbled something under his breath, something you thought could only be some type of strange joke, you were too stunned to laugh. And the fact that you didn't is the only reason you're still alive. That, and he's fallen rather profoundly in love with you, but he won't be admitting to that any time soon.
So when he pulls away from your lips to stare sheepishly at his bare feet criss-crossed in front of him before uttering the words you're sure you must have heard wrong, you ask him to please repeat himself.
"I've never done this before..." he gruffs, crossing both sets of arms and averting his gaze to the side with a nose-crinkling sneer.
"Done...what?" You ask, innocently.
"This! All of this!" He barks, waving his arms in frustration.
Your brain is working overtime just to read between the lines. He's acting like it's obvious, but you can't understand which "this" he's referring to.
"I don't get what-"
"SEX OKAY!" He gruffs bitterly. "I've never had sex!"
You just stare. Lips parted slightly as your jaw hangs limp, still unsure you've heard him correctly.
"And would you stop looking at me like that??" He scowls.
"'Kuna, I...I don't know what to say."
"Yeah, well...neither do I," he admits, still avoiding your gaze.
"It's just that you're...a thousand years old...I guess I just figured in that time you would have-"
"I didn't get to where I am by running around like some dog in heat," he retorts. "I spent my time getting stronger, strategizing, honing my cursed technique. Then I was sealed away for a few hundred years. When the hell would I have-"
"I never thought of it like that. But I figured Heian Era and all, the 'King of Curses' must have had concubines, right?"
"Yeah? So? I had a bunch of that old-timey shit!" He spouted. You had to stifle a laugh this time. "Doesn't mean I cared. I was...you know...a little busy conquerring the world?"
It was beginning to sink in. The King of Curses, God of the Heian Era, the Great Ryomen Sukuna sat on a shelf like a minted doll for a thousand years, completely untouched, and you- little modern nobody you- were about to take his "v-card". You felt giddy.
"'Kuna," You began, reaching out to take his face in your hands, compelling him to look at you. He hissed as you did so. "Ryomen. We don't have to do this."
"No, I want-"
"If you really want to, that's fine. Just know that it's going to be messy. Probably a little awkward. Maybe a lot awkward! Heck, I don't even know what to do about the extra set of limbs and...appendages," You laughed, giving his thigh a squeaze. He rolled his eyes. You continued earnestly, "I just want you to know it's okay not to know it all- not to get everything perfect. That's where the trust comes in...and where the memories are made."
He heaved a deep sigh, turning away again as he became lost in thought.
"Hey, Ryo?"
"What, brat?"
"Thanks for waiting for me," you wink.
"Don't flatter yourself," he grumps, a rougey glow tingeing his cheeks.
"Of course not," you smile. Then, eyeing his extra arms you continue. "So I just have one question..."
"Speak."
"Will we need one condom, or two?"
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Thank you so much for reading! Likes and reblogs always appreciated, but never expected.
MDNI banner credit to @cafekitsune
Special thanks to @heian-era-househusband for always listening to my stories and for being my trusted partner 💕
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denwritesandcries · 1 year ago
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Take a Breath (and kiss me) – T.C
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Pairing: tara carpenter x fem!reader
Summary: Your girlfriend Tara gets a little clingy when she realizes you haven't kissed her properly in days.
Word count: 2,0k
Content: cursing, fluff, kisses, cuddles, tara being a sad pup, college routine kicking everybody's asses, core four as a family.
Note: First time writing for Tara! Pure fluff cause I’m starting on a new job this week and needed comfort.
English is not my first language.
It's been four days straight since you last kissed Tara.
Not that she was counting, she really wasn't, but now, after an extremely long and tiring day of exams and more exams, it seemed impossible not to feel your absence next to her. The feeling of neediness and loneliness hits her hard when she realizes how long it's been since you two have been together.
Four days. Four whole days of no holding hands or playing with her hair, no hugs, no cuddles and definitely no kisses. Be it on the forehead, the cheek, the shoulders, the hands, or on the lips. Nothing. It's like the universe just decided one day 'nuh-uh, no kisses for Tara Carpenter' and boy that was unfair.
The last time you kissed her – actually kissed her – was on Monday morning, at the beginning of that hellish week, when she woke up too early with the sunlight escaping through a crack in the curtains bothering her eyes, with her whole body completely curled up on top of yours. One of the best ways to wake up, really. The same thing happened to you a short time later, because as much as Tara loves being in your arms, she also can't help but feel restless when she's awake and move a lot, but the way she lights up when you sleepy mumble a good morning to her doesn't make you able to be upset with her for that.
You gave her a slow, lazy kiss, still with that warm aura of sleep remaining.
It was the most she could enjoy of your company before you had to leave in a hurry to escape the scolding Sam would give you both for spending the night having class the next day – even though, you know, you're college students and adults – and get to your own dorm to be ready in time for your first class in the morning.
She would have braved the scolding and made you stay a little longer if she had remembered that exam season was about to start. Unfortunately, this only occurred to her when she had her first taste of it later that day.
See, that was perhaps the thing Tara hated most about her new life as a student in New York: the way the change in routine could easily overwhelm her, and how that made it even worse because you couldn't be around as much as she wanted you to.
You were a year ahead of her and your courses were different, so you didn't have any classes together and your paths barely crossed during the day, which meant the only times she got to see you were on quick runs across campus, barely having time to exclaim a 'hi baby!' before disappearing with stacks of books and notebooks in your arms.
Sure, you exchanged a lot of messages, but it wasn't the same as having a warm body next to her in bed or on the couch. You couldn't even come to the apartment after everything because she was also too tired from her own work to hangout after it.
But Friday had finally arrived and she had enough time to wallow in self-pity until everyone got home. Checking the patterned wall clock that her sister bought when they moved in, Tara realizes that it's already past five pm and the sound of the door opening is the sign that her family has started to come in. She buries her head in the pile of cushions, ignoring the throbbing pain in her temples.
“Ugh, finally." Mindy plops down next to Tara on the other side of the couch, clasping her hands above her head to stretch, “What is this? Why is there a sad, miserable gremlin on our couch?”
She hears Chad's loud laugh coming from the kitchen but can only mutter a 'fuck you' muffled by the cushions she's sunk into, feeling a tap on her calf in response.
Tara wasn't going to put up with any mockery now, not when she was so tired and sleepy and missing you. She would do the same thing she had done the last few days: take a hot shower without giving a shit to Quinn's protests about using all the water, hug Sam when she got home from work in 45 minutes, and accept the offer of a snack when her sister ask if she had already eaten, then she would go to her room, throw herself on the bed and text you goodnight, before completely blacking out until the next day, when she could finally have you all to herself for the entire weekend – and for the rest of the week too. The worst part is over, so screw it, you guys could afford to miss some classes.
“Are you just gonna lay there and give up on existence, lil dude?” Mindy starts again, interrupting the peaceful and only partly distressing silence Tara had settled into as she builds up the strength to stand up.
“Will you shut the hell up?” She bites, grabbing one of the cushions and hitting her friend in the face, “You’re not funny and my head hurt as fuck.”
“Jesus, okay, okay!” Mindy waves her arms in defeat and stands up, “I won’t say anything else then.”
"Great."
“I’m not gonna say–” She takes on a teasing tone, “–that Anika thought that a certain someone was really upset and buried in books all that time in their dorm and that it would be better if they came straight here after class to take a break, but I’m not gonna tell you that.”
"What?" Tara’s expression immediately brightened, “You’re serious? What you–"
“Well, I told my girlfriend to bring your girlfriend. But it's okay, I'm not gonna say any of that.”
Mindy looked extremely smug but Tara chose to spare her another hit in the face for the sake of the information she just received. She lights up and jumps off the couch in a flash, rushing to shower and get ready now that she has a good reason. She hears Chad shouting from the kitchen:
“Girl, I thought you were tired!”
“Right?” Mindy laughs, “Wednesday’s at that age when a girl has only one thing on her mind, Chad.”
This makes her stop: “I don’t look like her!”
She slams the door shut when she hears their laughter increase in response.
If someone asked Tara if it was true that she sat on the side of the sofa closest to the door so she could see the exact moment you arrived, she would vehemently deny it – even though that's exactly what she did – and she would also deny that she deflated a little when the first person to arrive after the twins was Sam with a pizza box in one hand and covering a big yawn with the other.
You and Anika only arrive almost half an hour after Sam, finding Tara already watching you with doe eyes. Your haggard face immediately breaks into a smile, lines of fatigue crinkling in the corners of your eyes.
“There you are, dear,” you cross the room towards her and Tara leans in, even before you touch her, practically purring at the soft kiss you leave on her forehead, “I missed you.”
She melts when you wrap your arms around her, burying her head in your chest, but that's it. A kiss on the forehead and a hug and then you're pulling away again because you and Anika have brought more food that should be placed on the kitchen counter.
It only took this small moment of you going back and forth for everything to come back to Tara with full force. You didn't kiss her.
It's stupid, it's irrational, but her eyes fill with tears even though she can clearly see you from behind, unpacking the groceries and talking to your friends there.
Tara tried to just sit and wait for you to come back as soon as you were done, but patience was never her thing.
“Hm?” You hum when you feel a tug on your hodie's sleeve, looking back to find Tara with a tearful, frustrated expression.
“I had a really long day,” she begins, not quite sure how to ask for what she wants, eyes focused on the floor, “Will you come stay with me?”
Your heart races and your voice immediately softens: “Of course, sweetheart.”
Tara wastes no time in dragging you to her room by your wrist and you can't even react to the warning look Sam throws you over her shoulder.
She perches on your lap the second you sit down on the bed, sighing in relief as she buries her face in your shoulder.
You rest your chin on her head, “Did somethin’ happen?”
“I’m gonna quit college." She moans in defeat against your neck.
You huff a giggle into her hair, “Same, baby.”
Tara pulls away just enough to look at you and the pure love and tenderness in your eyes is more than enough to make the tears come back.
“What? What is it?" You straighten up, worried, tightening your arms around her.
“You haven’t kissed me in four days.”
She blurts out, voice cracking and strangled and you stop.
“Four days?”
Tara nods, “Except for the one on the forehead, you haven’t really kissed me in four days and like, several hours.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?” She frowned. Shit, now she was getting mad at you, “Oh?”
You rush to take her mind off it, pressing a kiss to her lips in which she immediately melts with a soundly sigh of relief.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” you murmur between small pecks distributed on her lips, “I was so caught up in everything that I didn’t even notice.”
Tara still seemed a little upset by your response, but you kissed her again, bringing a hand to her jaw to deepen, feeling your girlfriend's arms entwined around your neck.
When you pull apart this time, you're both out of breath and Tara's face is covered in a soft red glow. You gently draw patterns with your fingers on her hips and lean in, leaving a kiss on her warm cheek.
“I’m sorry, Tar,” you echo, looking deep in her eyes “I’ve missed you so much. How can I make it up to you?”
She pretends to think for a moment, averting her eyes to hide the shiver that runs through her body.
“It's been four days,” she huffs with more annoyance than she actually feels, “I'm a girl who has abandonment issues, you know, it's your obligation to kiss me every day from now on.”
“Noted,” you smile.
“But…” She starts with a mischievous smile, “You could also make me feel better by watching The Babadook with me.”
“No, no, Tara!” You whine, “The noises of that movie freak me out!”
“Oh, I know,” your girlfriend says, blinking innocently, “But I want to do something with you, it's been so long since we watched something together alone and I love you so much.”
"I love you too." You respond instantly.
It only takes a look at those doe eyes and you lose the battle immediately and Tara looks victorious. She knows the power she has over you, the adorable little shit.
She leaves your lap just enough time to pick up the laptop on the table and returns to her place, you pull her back and lie down on the pillows, dragging her against your chest, pulling a blanket from the corner of the bed to cover you both.
“Tests are over,” you say, burying your face in her neck as the movie scene darkens, “The next few weeks are ours now. Just ours.”
Tara giggles when you startle again, sinking further against your body, smelling the hodie you were wearing, the one she got you for your birthday.
“Ours,” she says, “I like how that sounds.”
Tara tries to stay awake as long as possible, even after you fall asleep with your face buried in her neck. She's almost asleep when Sam quietly opens the door, a plate of pizza in hand and an eyebrow raised. The silent question of ‘can she stay the night please?’ is just a formality.
There's no way you're getting out of her league anytime soon.
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bellaxgiornata · 1 month ago
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Five Minutes
Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader Word Count: 4.4k [Jax Fic Masterlist]
Warnings/tags: 18+; Fluff, nervous!Reader, suggestive comments, & a slightly soft, flirty Jax
Summary: While out with your friends at a seedy bar in Charming, you manage to catch Jax's eye–and he's quite determined just to get you to talk to him.
a/n: I'm temporarily back in my Jax Teller phase at the moment as I force myself to rewatch Sons of Anarchy and actually finish the last season instead of trying to pretend the show doesn't end like it does. I'm just going to use fanfic to spare my feelings right now even though I don't usually write for Jax. It's been months since I've written anything and this was admittedly written entirely today, but enjoy! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
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Raising the bottle of beer to your lips, you took a pull from it as your eyes scanned the dimly lit bar around you. Stanley's was a hole in the wall type of dive bar–not the sort of place you generally found yourself drinking on a Friday night with your friends after work. It was a seedy place, and that was only made even more apparent by the impossible to ignore presence of the Sons of Anarchy.
There were five of them sitting at a table on the opposite side of the bar from where you and your friends were drinking, all of them wearing their black leather kuttes with their worn patches and matching hardened expressions. They were deep in discussion as they sat with a few questionable looking men and one gentleman in particular who looked far too nicely dressed to be sitting and drinking in a place like Stanley's. It was obvious that they were doing something illegal, conducting some sort of business boldly out in the open. 
Swallowing down your beer, you lowered the almost empty bottle back to the table and returned your attention to your three friends who were still in the middle of discussing Tabitha's breakup. Leaning forward and resting your forearms along the wooden surface, you felt it wobble beneath your shifting weight as you focused on the conversation once more. Though you had to strain to hear them over the rock music blaring through the place.
“It's his damn loss, Tab,” Sara said, her tone firm. “If Travis is going to sleep around on you, then you deserve better than his dumbass. He's not worth a single one of your tears.”
Monica was nodding from her place in the chair beside you, gesturing her glass of cranberry vodka at Tabitha. It was clear she'd already had a few too many of them since the four of you had arrived over an hour ago.
“That's right,” she began. “We aren't out tonight to drown your sorrows over that asshole, we're out to remind you that you're a beautiful badass and you don't need him. You can do better.”
An annoyed scoff left Tabitha in response before she rolled her eyes. “Because there's so many wonderful options of available men in Charming to choose from,” Tabitha replied bitterly.
Unable to fight the grin at her harsh but truthful comment, you let out a small laugh. “What? You don't like our options at tonight's wonderful drinking establishment? You've got so much to choose from.” 
Monica and Sara were quick to laugh, matching smiles spreading across their faces. Both of them openly scanned the bar around the four of you, their eyes taking in the varying men drinking around Stanley’s.
“Yeah Tab, you've got your pick of either emotionally immature or emotionally unavailable,” Sara teased.
“Or old enough to be your father, beer gut included,” Monica joked.
Swallowing down another sip of your beer, you smiled as all three of your friends laughed at the table, the mood finally lifting among the group of you tonight. Your eyes darted across the bar back to the table of Sons. The blonde one you knew as Jax Teller, their leader, was standing and shaking the overly dressed gentleman's hand now, clearly finished with whatever illegal dealings they'd been handling here.
“And let us not forget,” you added on, your eyes averting from their table and returning to your friends as you lowered your voice, “the option of criminal biker. A Charming specialty.”
Each of your friends laughed once more before sending wary glances across the bar towards the leather-clad men. The Sons' presence here clearly made the four of you uneasy–almost as if bullets would start flying at any moment. And with the way things had been happening around town lately, it didn't feel far out of the realm of possibility with them here.
“Let's be real, they don't know a thing about commitment, either,” Tabitha replied, sitting back in her chair. “Any one of them would still be far worse than Travis.”
“There's a silver lining, at least,” Monica said before taking another deep drink from her glass. She swallowed it down before continuing, pointing a firm finger in the direction of the bikers across the bar. “Anything in this town is better than a Son.”
“Doesn't matter anyway,” Sara chimed in, her eyes darting to the bikers’ table and then back. “We are not the kind of women who even register on their radars.”
Picking up your own beer from the table, you drank down the last of its contents as your friends began speaking in hushed tones, the topic quickly taking a turn to the rumors they'd overheard about the Sons’ clubhouse parties. Sliding out of your chair, you had already stopped listening. You'd never concerned yourself with the small town's motorcycle club before, preferring to stay far away from them and the trouble they caused, so you certainly weren't about to suddenly care about the gossip and rumors now.
“I'm going to grab another beer, I'll be back,” you told the others.
Monica sent you a smile, acknowledging what you'd said before her eyes returned to Sara who was now in the middle of animatedly telling a story that she'd overheard about the Sons. Not wasting another minute, you ducked your head and walked away from the table, making your way towards the bar. As you wove between the other tables with gruff looking men who were giving you looks that made your palms sweat, you kept your eyes averted from any of them, doing your best to ignore the curious glances and the occasional comment thrown your way.
Reaching the bar, you caught the bartender's attention and ordered another beer, dropping some cash onto the bar counter as you did. You watched as the bartender grabbed the bills before walking off to retrieve your drink, your fingers absently drumming along the sticky counter as you waited. 
A few feet further down from you, another figure sauntered up to the bar, casually leaning their forearms along it. Against your better judgment, your head shifted over your shoulder, your eyes drawn by the movement. You felt your heart accelerate, pounding a bit harder in your chest as you recognized Jax Teller standing there looking worn and irritated, a slight crease between his brows and a downward curve to his mouth. Immediately you glanced away, eyes focusing straight ahead of you as your body went tense. Unfortunately for you, the sudden movement seemed to have caught his attention. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw his head turn in your direction as if he'd noticed you looking at him, and then you could practically feel his eyes running over you. 
Swallowing hard, your fingers drummed a bit more anxiously on the counter as you internally pleaded for the bartender to hurry up and return with your beer. But just as he began his slow return towards you with your opened bottle in hand, the Son beside you let out a soft, amused huff before he took a few steps closer. He easily slid further down the bar, now standing with barely three feet of space left between the both of you. His proximity had your pulse quickening even more as you determinedly kept your gaze straight ahead. Maybe if you didn't look at him again he wouldn't speak to you. 
Though it didn’t take long for your theory to be proven incorrect.
“You look out of place here, darlin’,” Jax’s deep, smooth voice came from beside you as he leaned just a fraction closer.
Continuing to keep your gaze fixed ahead, you watched as the bartender wordlessly set your drink down in front of you before focusing on Jax next, a hint of trepidation on his face as he took the intimidating man's drink order. Not wanting to stick around, your hand darted out to grab your beer before you turned away from the bar. Pulling the bottle up to your lips, you immediately took a deep drink to offset the dryness that had settled in your mouth at Jax’s presence.
“You just gonna ignore me, sweetheart?” he asked, shifting along the bar to casually lean his back against it. “I'm just being friendly here.”
Pausing at his voice directed at you once again, you felt your body go rigid on the spot. Hesitantly, you threw a timid glance back over your shoulder at him and the sight had you stopping just two steps from the bar. He was resting against the counter with a mixture of amusement and mischief dancing in his blue eyes, a cocky smirk tugging his lips upwards at one corner. He looked completely comfortable and at ease now as he stared back at you, the faintest curious tilt to his head.
You’d seen the Sons often enough over the years since you’d lived in Charming. Their bikes were impossible to miss when they came roaring through the streets of the small town, and you’d often seen them around the clubhouse lot every time you drove past Teller-Morrow Automotive whenever you drove to and from work. The sight of these men wasn’t anything new to you, but you’d also never been standing quite so close to one of them before. Especially not Jax. The rumors you’d always heard about how handsome he was hadn’t remotely done him justice–he was somehow even more attractive than he’d looked from across the bar earlier. 
Jax Teller was…beautiful, if you were being honest with yourself. In a sort of rugged, dangerous way. The sort of way that had your heart hammering like a caged bird in your chest with his confident smirk, those engaging blue eyes which clearly held an endless amount of secrets, and that damn slicked back blonde hair that had your fingers itching to grab onto it and pull his face between your legs. 
As if he could read the thoughts racing through your mind, his smirk grew into a lazy smile, one hand reaching over and grabbing the drink the bartender set down beside him. His eyes never once left you as he watched you, the gaze not unlike that of a cat about to toy with a mouse. The look he was directing at you had you tightening your grip on your beer bottle, your palm dampening nervously against the glass.
“Come on, darlin’,” he tried again, slowly gesturing his head towards the barstool beside him. “Take a seat. I just wanna talk.”
“I–I don't think that's a good idea,” you stammered.
Taking another step to leave, you turned and made a desperate attempt to get out of his line of sight and back to your friends at the table, but you’d only managed that one step before his hand was lightly grasping onto your upper arm and gently turning you back towards him. Immediately you bristled at the touch, your body tensing as you jolted backwards and out of his reach. The smile on Jax’s face only grew wider, like he’d found your reaction to his touch entertaining. With his drink held in one hand, he raised both of his hands in mock surrender.
“Easy there, darlin’,” he drawled out, still grinning. “Just wanna talk. That’s all. Nothin’ else, I promise.”
Standing there with your heart thudding away inside of your ribcage, you tried to swallow back the lump forming in your throat. He was so damn comfortable and confident just leaning against the bar like that, it was only making you more nervous. What the hell did he want with you? You clearly looked nothing like any of the women you’d spotted hanging around the clubhouse whenever you’d driven past, he couldn’t possibly be thinking that he was going to take you home to his bed. Though the thought of that, of being alone with him like that , had your cheeks heating as your eyes darted down to the bottle of beer in your hands.
“I think you’d find I’m not remotely the kind of company you’re looking for,” you answered back, awkwardly attempting to avoid his gaze.
A low, rumbling chuckle fell out of him at your comment, the sound drawing your eyes back up to his. Somehow he just looked even more entertained.
“And what makes you say that?” he asked, that lazy grin still on his lips. “What kinda company do you think I’m looking for, sweetheart?”
The question drew the heat further down your neck, your whole body starting to feel like it was on fire now. You were absolutely not made for conversations with someone so straightforward and unflappable as Jax Teller. It seemed the more nervous you became, the more he enjoyed this unexpected interaction with you.
“Something more exciting than me,” you answered after a moment. “Look, I…have friends who’re probably wondering where I’ve disappeared to by now–”
“I’m just asking you to sit right here with me,” he said, cutting you off with a shrug. “Not trying to run off anywhere with you, darlin’.”
Closing your mouth at his interruption, you stood there for a long moment cautiously studying him. Why was he so damn insistent on you sitting with him and talking? What the hell did he want from you? Because it had to be something, right? There was no way he just wanted something as simple and innocent as a conversation. 
Turning just a fraction towards him, your brows drew together in confusion and contemplation, your question coming out just loud enough to be heard over the music in the bar. “Why? Why do you want to talk?”
Jax shrugged a single broad shoulder again in response. “Call it curiosity. You don’t look like you belong in a place like this,” he answered.
Your eyes narrowed a fraction at him in return. “Like I don’t belong in a bar?” 
A soft huff of laughter fell out of him before he shook his head, an almost boyish grin spreading across his lips as his eyes creased at the corners. “Nah, darlin’. That’s not what I meant,” he replied.
When you didn’t answer, his expression softened just a fraction as he straightened up against the counter behind him. His hand reached out towards you again and your eyes quickly darted down towards his ringed fingers, a look of fear passing over your face. Catching sight of your obvious discomfort, Jax’s hand hesitated in the space between you both before it slowly dropped back down to his side.
“Sorry, I forgot.” There was an edge of humor to his voice. “ You don’t want me to touch you. Gotta admit, I’m not used to that reaction from women.”
Clearing your throat, your eyes returned to his face. “Most women usually don’t like being touched by strange men at a bar,” you pointed out, trying to sound more bold than you felt. “That’s a normal reaction.”
The corner of his lips twitched again at your reply, as if he found your attempt at being firm with him more funny than anything. He nodded his head slowly before he spoke. “Yeah, suppose I’ve heard that.” His hand reached out to pull out the barstool beside him instead, dragging it over towards you before he gave it two gentle pats. “Come on. Just…quench my curiosity about why a timid thing like you is drinking in a place like this. I gotta know.”
Bottom lip rolling beneath your teeth, you chewed it in thought for a moment as your attention shifted down towards the awaiting barstool. Was that what he was after then? You just stood out to him and he wanted to know why you were here? That was all?
Cautiously, you turned further towards him, a wary expression still on your face despite the way the smile once more grew on his. An idea was forming in your mind, one you hoped would get him off of your back.
“If I talk with you for five minutes, will you leave me alone afterwards?” you asked, the question coming out of you slowly. 
Jax’s eyebrows rose marginally, almost like he couldn’t believe just how much you seemed to not want anything to do with him. One of his hands rose up from off the bar, his fingers running across his bearded mouth as if in thought while his eyes remained fixed on you in front of him. After a moment, he nodded once.
“Yeah, alright,” he answered, gesturing his head back towards the barstool once more. “You’ve got a deal, darlin’. Five minutes and then I’ll stop bothering you.” He paused, shooting you a handsome grin. “If that’s what you still want in five minutes.”
Eyes darting across the bar, your gaze landed over on your three friends still sitting at the table you’d left them at. They were all staring at you, watching you closely as if searching for some sign of distress considering who you were talking with. You gave them the faintest shake of your head to let them know you were fine before you took the few steps over to the barstool beside Jax, hesitantly lowering yourself onto it. He immediately shifted along the bar, resting his left elbow on the surface and leaning his weight onto it as he watched you take another pull off of your beer.
“Name’s Jax, but I’m guessin’ you already know who I am judging by the way you’ve been trying to scurry away from me this whole goddamn time,” he teased lightly. He jutted his chin at you, that hint of curiosity back in his eyes. “You got a name, darlin’?”
With your gaze focused on your beer bottle as you set it along the bar, your fingers fidgeted with the label along the bottle. The condensation on the brown glass already had a corner of it peeling off. Awkwardly you gave him your name, half of you wondering if that was even a good idea.
Jax chuckled in response, drawing his glass to his lips as he spoke. “Was expecting more of a fight from you on that, I’ll be honest,” he admitted, taking a drink before lowering the glass back to the bar counter. He took another step closer, leaning towards you when he spoke again. “So what exactly are you doing drinking at this shithole? Girl like you doesn’t look like she belongs in a place like this.”
Shaking your head, you glanced up at him beside you from beneath your lashes. If he wasn't some dangerous, playboy criminal you might have let yourself feel more flattered by his attention. Because you absolutely, definitely were not.
“No, I…generally don't come here,” you agreed with a small nod. “I uh…I'm out with my friends. One of them is going through a breakup. We didn't want to run into her ex while we were out tonight so…we came here tonight. Because no one ever goes to Stanley's.”
His blue eyes searched your face for a long moment as he let your response settle over him. Something about the intensity of his gaze mixed with the scent of cigarette smoke and leather emanating off of him at this distance had your stomach twisting nervously inside of you for different reasons than a few minutes ago. 
“Breakup, huh?” he mused after a moment. “Brought your friend out drinking to cheer her up. That's why you're here?”
“Yeah,” you answered quietly. 
He bit his lip, fighting back a smile on his face at your explanation. The sight had your eyes darting away just so you could control your breathing. He was quickly becoming intimidating for an entirely different reason now.
“Makes sense,” he replied. “Guess you’re right, doubt you’d run into anyone in this damn place. Though it…really isn’t the best place for a thing like you to be drinking with your friends.”
Grabbing your beer, you raised it to your lips for another deep drink. He was making you so damn nervous that you couldn't refrain from blurting your next words as you set the bottle back down. “I'm guessing you're not out here to help your friend get over a breakup.”
A wide smile broke out across Jax's face, the sight quickly followed by his deep, rumbling laugh. The sound was so unexpected and pleasant that it caught you off guard, a small smile slipping onto your face in return before you could stop it. 
“No darlin’,” he replied, still chuckling at the absurdity of the idea. “That’s definitely not what brought me out here tonight.” 
The smile lingered on his lips as he watched you, something impossible to read in his expression. There was a growing curiosity in his sharp, blue eyes the longer he stood beside you, though. The sight of it had you shifting on the barstool anxiously.
“I got a feeling you're not just the awkward and shy thing I first thought you were, sweetheart,” Jax mused, his voice dropping to something a bit lower. “Seems like there's more to you that you're hiding behind that deer-in-the-headlights look you keep throwing my way.” His lips quirked up into something mischievous as he continued. “Kinda makes me wonder…”
Brows immediately furrowing at the way he'd trailed off, you stiffened in your seat. “Wonder what?” you asked him cautiously.
Jax paused for a moment, that devious little smirk still on his lips. His left hand absently swirled his glass along the bar as he watched you closely, almost like he was studying you. Observing you. Trying to make sense of you.
“What I'd gotta do to get you to loosen up a bit,” he answered after a moment.
Something about the way he'd said that, all resonant and sultry, paired with his confident smirk that seemed to have a double meaning, had a shudder running through you. He was smooth– far too smooth. Despite the fact that you knew how dangerous he was, knew the type of man he was, you felt a warmth slowly flooding through you, one that wasn't related to nerves or alcohol. When he shifted beside you at the bar, his knee suddenly brushing along your thigh over your jeans, you practically jumped in your seat. 
“Relax, you're so on edge, darlin’,” Jax teased you, an amused huff passing between his lips. “I'm not gonna try anything. Consider me on my best behavior right now with you.” Jax paused, his gaze openly raking over you once more where you sat on the barstool, not even remotely being subtle. “Unless you ask me real nice, not to be.”
Almost instantly your eyes widened at his clear flirtation, your lips parting in surprise. That heat flooding you only seemed to be burning you up a bit hotter. Attention shifting back to the beer in front of you, your tongue darted out and dampened your lips in a nervous gesture. How in the hell was he affecting you like this? You should know better than to let a Son be chatting you up like this.
“You know,” Jax continued, taking another half-step closer to where you were sitting, “I’m not half as bad as you probably think I am.” He hesitated for a moment, making a slight face before adding on, “At least, in some respects. Just gimme a chance, sweetheart. Let me prove it to you.”
Eyes raising from the bottle of beer in front of you, your gaze landed on the clock on the wall behind the bar. It was well off by a half an hour from being remotely accurate, but five minutes had certainly passed since you'd sat down with him. As if he knew what you were thinking by where your eyes had shifted, Jax’s gaze followed yours to the clock. A moment later his attention returned to your face. Gradually your eyes landed back on him, watching as a lazy half-smile spread over his handsome mouth.
“Looks like my five minutes are up, darlin’,” he pointed out, leaning against the bar as he kept his eyes on you. “You're free to run back to your friends now.”
For some reason, you found yourself not immediately moving from your place on the barstool. He was right, you'd given him your five minutes to chat and quell his curiosity about why you were here. It was such a small thing for him to have wanted to ask you about, and yet somehow that had left you curious about him now.
“Or–” he said, breaking the mounting silence between you two as he raised his glass to his lips, pausing with it there as he continued, “–you can give me more than five minutes of your time tonight. Up to you, sweetheart. My evening is wide open at the moment.”
Sitting there, you watched as his lips wrapped around the edge of his glass, the dark liquid tipping back into his mouth as his eyes remained on you. Your hand gripped the neck of your beer bottle harder, your heart thrumming in your throat at the offer to stay and talk to him. You knew you shouldn't, you knew the smart thing to do was to get up with your beer and go back to your friends and forget this entire moment had ever even happened in the first place. Jax Teller was trouble. He wasn’t a good guy. He was a notorious playboy with a criminal record. But for some damn reason you couldn't move from your seat beside him. And that only had his smirk growing wider the moment he realized that you weren’t moving. 
His foot slid out, casually hooking around the leg of the barstool beside you before he pulled it out. Settling down into the seat and getting comfortable, one of his hands gestured at your beer that sat half-drunk in your nervous grip. 
“Why don't you finish that and I'll get you another, darlin’?” he suggested, arching one of his brows at you.
Slowly, you raised the bottle to your lips, drinking back more of the alcohol. Jax’s eyes creased at the corners as he leaned closer towards you, resting his elbows on the bar counter. 
“So, why don’t you go on and tell me more about how you’re not the kinda company I’m looking for tonight, darlin’?” he teased, that infuriatingly handsome smirk slipping back onto his lips.
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caitified · 18 days ago
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I'm so in love with your writing 😭 could you please do KM x reader on honeymoon with kate being so clingy and touchy?
HONEYMOON
KATE MARTIN X READER
comments: thank you, love you!
warnings: a little suggestive
you met kate martin at iowa. you were both fresh into college, navigating the newness of it all—the campus, the basketball team, the expectations. you weren’t even on the same path at first. she was the confident, easy-going upperclassman with this cool, natural charisma that made her impossible to ignore, and you were the quiet, focused rookie, determined to prove yourself.
she was impossible to miss, though. the way her long blonde hair was always pulled into that perfect messy ponytail, like she didn’t even have to try. her blue eyes that always seemed to catch you staring across the court, sparkling like she knew something you didn’t. you were drawn to her—how could you not be? she carried herself with this effortless confidence, but it wasn’t cocky. she made everyone feel like they mattered, especially you.
things started slow. late-night talks in her car after practice. her teasing you during drills, flashing you that lopsided grin that made your heart race. subtle touches on the court—her hand brushing yours, her arm slung casually around your shoulders in the locker room, like it was the most natural thing in the world. by the time your second season rolled around, you were hers, and she was yours.
fast forward a few years, and now she’s your wife. your wife. it still feels surreal, the way those words roll off your tongue.
the wedding was small, intimate, just the way you wanted it. her vows had you in tears, and you could barely get through your own because her big hands were holding yours so tightly, grounding you and making you feel safe in a way only she could. and now you’re here, on your honeymoon, tucked away in a villa overlooking the ocean in greece, and kate hasn’t let go of you since the plane landed.
she’s always been touchy, always had to have her hands on you in some way—an arm around your shoulder, a hand on your thigh, her fingers brushing the back of your neck—but now it’s like she can’t bear to have even a single inch of space between you.
you’re lying on the lounger by the pool, a book resting in your lap, the sun casting golden light across your skin. kate’s sprawled across you, her head tucked into the crook of your neck, her long legs tangled with yours. her fingers trace lazy patterns over your stomach, occasionally dipping under the edge of your swimsuit just to feel your skin. her hands are big and warm, and they make you feel so small in the best way.
“kate,” you murmur, though your voice is barely more than a whisper. “you’re heavy.”
“you love it,” she mumbles, her voice muffled against your neck, her breath warm against your skin.
she’s right. you do.
“what happened to giving me space?” you tease, though your free hand slides up to tangle in her hair, nails gently scratching her scalp.
“space?” she pulls back just enough to look at you, her blue eyes soft and full of mischief. “baby, we just got married. you’re stuck with me forever. i don’t think ‘space’ is in the contract.”
her grin is infectious, and you find yourself laughing, the kind of laugh that feels deep and warm, like the sun on your skin. she presses a quick kiss to your lips, and then another, because one is never enough for her.
“besides,” she adds, settling back into her spot against you, “you’re way too pretty to leave alone. i have to protect you.”
“protect me from what?”
“anyone who looks at you for too long,” she says, her voice light but tinged with a possessiveness that makes your stomach flip.
you roll your eyes, but your heart betrays you, swelling at how openly she loves you. it’s always been like this with kate—no games, no second-guessing. just her, all in, unapologetic in the way she holds you close and makes you feel wanted.
later, when the sun dips below the horizon and the villa is bathed in soft candlelight, you’re curled up on the couch with her, a glass of wine in one hand and her other hand—big and warm—wrapped around yours. she’s pressed so close to you it’s like she’s trying to fuse herself to your side, and you don’t mind one bit.
“do you think people get tired of each other this fast?” you ask, half-joking.
she leans in, her lips brushing the shell of your ear. “if they do, we’re not people.”
it’s such a kate thing to say, and you can’t help but turn your head to kiss her, slow and deliberate, letting her know without words that you feel the same way.
when you pull back, her blue eyes are soft, her usual playfulness replaced with something deeper. “i love you,” she whispers, her voice almost reverent.
“i love you too,” you reply, and it feels like the easiest thing you’ve ever said.
she doesn’t say anything else after that, just pulls you closer, her touch warm and steady, her presence grounding. and in that moment, with her wrapped around you and the sound of the waves in the background, you think there’s no place in the world you’d rather be.
thanks for reading! requests open.
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monayen · 3 months ago
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awawawa tysm! (*/∀\*) then i'll req smth for 17 yo randal w a fem reader! like he's been ignoring reader because he's too busy playing lol or being an asshole on reddit so reader tries to get his attention in other ways--- (  ̄▽ ̄)
x_thedarkprince_x | Randal Ivory (17ndal)
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➷ Paring - Randal Ivory (17ndal) x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]
➷ CWs - oral (m. receiving) / blowjobs, pet play, he stink *_*
a/n - i forgot how much i love this freak... i was gonna write him stinkier but im sick with an eye infection and im 90% sure me writing him infected me somehow. also i have never played league but i do watch arcane and play val so i think that's good enough. 'pologies if i got anything wrong in that aspect (not really) also header is @/tapi_taro_ on twt !!
A rhythmic clicking echoed against the dark walls of Randal’s room. It was late — far too late for him to be hunched over his computer, his eyes fixed on the flickering characters on the screen.
He knew it too. Luther had made it clear he wasn’t supposed to be playing this late, even threatening to confiscate his expensive setup if he caught him awake again. Yet here he was, ignoring every warning.
Your legs dangled off the side of the coffin he should've been in hours ago with you, tired eyes flickering at the blue light of the screen. Or more importantly, Randal. 
His long orange hair was disheveled, sticking up in all directions, unbrushed and greasy.  A string of drool hung from the corner of his mouth as he muttered curses under his breath, his razor-sharp teeth glinting in the glow of the monitor. Far too engrossed to even blink.
You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. It had been days since Randal had given you more than a passing glance. A new season of LoL had started, and you were pretty sure his ass was permanently welded to his chair. The only times he left it were to use the bathroom or grab more soda. Has he even eaten?
Sleep was impossible with the constant noise. The rapid clack of his fingers on the keys, the drag of his mouse across the desk — it all kept you on edge. Even when you managed to drift off, there was always a sharp bang against the side of the table or a shout of some obscene curse, loud enough to snap you awake. And then, you’d have to fight to fall asleep all over again.
You huff in frustration, sitting up from where you’ve been laying against the coffin. “Randal?”
He doesn’t even flinch, his eyes fixed on the screen. For a moment, you wonder if he’s deliberately ignoring you, but the garbled voices from the game blasting through his headset make it clear that he just can't hear. 
You repeat yourself louder, and only then does he push one of his headphones aside, “What?” 
You make a face at his almost exasperated tone, his eyes still not moving towards you, “It's really late.”
He shrugs, lips pressing into a thin line as he shakes his head, barely glancing your way. “Yeah, well, I can’t pause. I’ll be there in a bit, sweetieee.” He drags out the last word with a teasing giggle before adjusting his headphones and continuing playing.
You stand up from the coffin, stretching your arms above your head. Your joints pop and crack, and you wince at the sudden movement. It's been a long day, and you're exhausted. But sleep isn’t going to happen unless he gets off the game.
You take a step towards him, your bare feet padding softly on the carpet. He's so focused on the game that he doesn't even notice you approaching. You lean over his shoulder, peering at the screen. 
He's losing, the game isn't even close. The string of chat logs of him and his teammates arguing in the corner catch your eye. You watch as Randal scowls, quickly typing something in chat. An IP address, but you’re pretty sure it's actually just a random string of numbers. 
Tilting your head, you ask, “Won't you get banned for that?”
Randal doesn't respond, too focused in the game to acknowledge you. You sigh again, a reaction would at least be nice. You're tired of being ignored, desperately wanting some type of attention, affection, anything to make you feel wanted. You're also just tired in general…
You place your hands on his shoulders, kneading the tense muscles. He tenses slightly at your touch, but doesn't pull away. You start to massage his shoulders, working out the knots that have formed from his terrible posture.
"Randal," you say softly, leaning down to whisper against his neck, even though he can't hear you, "You can play with something else…”
He shivers at your breath on his skin, but still doesn't turn to you. You huff, frustrated. 
You drop to your knees, crawling under the desk. You can see his feet, clad in mismatched socks, tapping impatiently on the floor. You reach up, running your hands up his calves, his thighs, until you reach his crotch. 
Taking a deep breath, you began to graze his crotch, him immediately shaking above you, "What are you – hey!" Randal finally noticed your actions, but he made no move to stop you as you continued to rub the fabric of his sweatpants. 
He lowers his headset, leaving them around his neck as he hunches over. “Bad girl! I’m literally about to derank!” 
You feel him stiffen under your touch. "Randal," you murmur again, your hand stroking him slowly. "I want to make you feel good."
Randal let out a shaky breath, his hips twitching forward. "I'm busy," he grumbled, but there was a note of desire behind his pitchy voice.
He makes a strangled noise when you squeeze, finally tearing his eyes away from the screen. He looks down at you, his black eyes lidded. “Fuck… my elo." he breathes, his hips bucking into your palm.
You smile, satisfied that you finally have some of his attention. You tug down his bottoms, freeing his cock. It's hard and hot in your hand, pulsing with need. You swiftly wrap your lips around the head, sucking gently.
Randal groans, his fingers tightening on the mouse. He's still playing, well… attempting to at least. His eyes keep darting back down to you, hands shaking against his keyboard and mouse. 
His thighs tremble more once you begin sucking on the sensitive tip harder, his focus faltering to groan, “C’mon – you can go deeper than that pet,” One of his hands leaves the desk, moving to grip the back of your head.
He groans, hips bucking into your mouth as he pushes your head down, "You're gonna make me lose." It's almost a whine, like it's a genuine bother for you to be down on your knees for him. But he doesn't stop you. If anything, he's pushing you down further, encouraging you with soft, desperate sounds. You take him deeper, tongue swirling around the length of his cock.
You moan around him, sending vibrations through his shaft. He gasps, fingers tangling in your hair.
"Shit, shit, fuck," he chants, voice rising in pitch. His thighs tremble, muscles tensing under your hands.
His free hand still clicks around on the keyboard, your eyes narrowing at the not-surprising ridiculousness of Randal still trying to play the game despite his dick being down your throat. 
You pull off his length with a pop, tilting your head sweetly, "Come on, Randal," you tease, stroking him slowly. "Is the game really that important?"
Randal whines, head thudding back against the chair. With a giggle, he nudges your head back down onto his erection, "I just told these virgins I’m getting my dick sucked, kekeke.”
You bob your head, taking him deep, swallowing around him. His fingers tighten in your hair, pulling sharply. “Hah, keep going pet.” he groans rocking his hips, fucking your face with shallow, needy thrusts. You double your efforts, sucking harder and taking him deeper in your mouth. 
"Fuck, fuck, swallow it–" he cuts off with a strangled cry, hips stuttering. You can feel him throbbing in your mouth, his body tensing. A quick pulse follows before he's flooding your throat. Quickly, you gulp, swallowing his cum down and not letting it leak out your mouth. 
He pants, a lazy grin spreading across his face. He looks down at you, his eyes half-lidded and hazy, slumping down slightly on the chair. 
Randal moves his hand from the back of your head to cup your cheek, his sharp teeth biting his lip, “Goooood pet.” 
Blushing at the praise, you finally crawl up when he moves his chair back, giving you space to get out from under the desk. “Are you sleepy now?” You ask, a cheeky smile on your face as you lean in closer to him. 
Randal lets out another strange giggle before leaning in to plant a quick, wet kiss on your lips.
“Gah, I can taste myself,” he grimaces, pulling back slightly. “Did I burn a hole in your stomach?”
You stifle a laugh and shake your head. “Randal.”
He catches the hint in your voice, finally giving in. With a dramatic sigh, he tucks his soft dick in and pushes up from his chair. “Turn off the monitor then, pretty please?”
You nod, watching as he scratches his ass before collapsing onto his coffin, immediately drifting off to sleep.
Turning to the monitor, you notice a bright red DEFEAT screen glaring back at you. Glancing at the chat, you see the last message a teammate sent before the game ended —
‘GGS report x_thedarkprince_x for throwing’
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verstappenf1lecccc · 9 months ago
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hey! can you please write a lando × bustamante reader....where the reader is the younger sister of Bianca Bustamante and has a huge crush on lando but Lando finds her irritating for some reasons and one day he shouts at her after a bad race when she tries to console him in front of the McLaren crew.. after that lando felt really bad and he had grovel a lot for forgiveness (btw the reader is only one year younger than bianca)....if you do write this thank you very much 🧡🧡
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Hurt
🎀1,317 words 8561 Characters around 5 pages enjoy 🎀
ooo I’m not the biggest fan of bianca but I do love this trope :)
You knew that life was never meant to be fair to everyone yet you had no idea why life constantly tried to screw with you.
Ever since you were a child, you’d always been compared with your older sister, Bianca. She was always seen as the brave, bold, and beautiful one who dared to achieve her dreams and had high ambitions. Whereas people, heck, even your own family, saw you as the timid, overlooked, and frankly dull sibling. Did it hurt growing up like that? Yes, it did.
Did it hurt when all the boys you had a crush on would only use you to get to your sister? Yes, it did. Did it hurt to see your sister achieve everything you’d ever wanted in life and for you to only be known as her sidekick, or, in other words, her shadow? You really don’t remember the last time you’ve ever set yourself apart from your sister and her needs; it’s almost second nature for you to prioritise her and ignore yourself.
This habit of yours was noticed by the eyes of a young British driver. He’s found that habit of yours annoying ever since.
The day Bianica signed for McLaren under F1 Academy was the best and worst day of your life. You were beyond happy for her but you also felt yourself fading further into her shadow. With more media coverage and attention on your sister, you simply faded away.
You had frankly thought about packing your bags and going back home until the same blue-eyed British driver caught your attention. It was silly to say, but you felt like a little teenager with a huge crush.
You knew it wasn’t right to have a crush on your sister’s coworker, but the way he was made it almost impossible. You liked the way he talked, the way he walked, and the way he still had his accent. You liked the way his nose wrinkled any time you talked about sushi or fish. You liked the way that he was a ball of energy, always so confident and fun to be around. What you liked the most about him was the way he made you feel seen and heard. When you were with him, it was almost like you were just you and not Bianca's little sister.
However, within all the giddy feelings of having a crush on Lando, you could not ignore how badly McLaren was doing. It was almost pitiful how poor their race performance was. Qualifying 18 and 19th and having to come into the pits four times in the race would kill anyone’s mood. Lando was no different; over the course of the season, he grew more and more aggressive and agitated after each race.
Lando and her had formed a little ritual: after each race, he would do his interviews while she would wait in the garage, and he would go into his driver's room, and exactly 5 minutes later, she would show up with any sweet treat she could snuggle in, and they would just talk. Some days it would be him talking and her listening, and other days it would be her lifting his confidence up with encouraging words. It is safe to say she really loved their ritual, only hoping to continue their ritual with better results for him.
As the season went on, she noticed a shift in Lando's behavior. His happygo-llucky attitude towards her started to shift towards a more annoyed and irritated mood. It started when she tired of talking to him before a race; he didn’t take kindly to that and simply ignored her and rolled his eyes. It hurt her; it really did, and she could do nothing about it.
They were not friends; they were just forced to be together due to their situations. She knew he would never like her back, but her infatuation with him made each and every move he made romantic.
It started to affect her more when he started distancing himself from her. Lando never wanted to hurt her; he started getting fond of the girl he once was annoyed with. He didn’t know why he started cutting her off; he was trying to play dumb, but deep down he knew he started having feelings for her.
He messed up in Silverstone both on and off track. Home Grand Prixs always have a special place in drivers hearts. It was no different with Lando; Silverstone was the one place every British driver wanted to win in front of their home crowd on their home soil.
The race was long anticipated; she was in his driver's room prior to the race; they had their normal routine done and dusted; he stared at her for a second longer; and she started at his lips for even longer.
They both knew the tension in the room was inevitable; someone just had to make a move. McLaren was proper shit during qualifying, so all expectations were nullified even before the race started. With Lando starting in P9 and Oscar in P5, it irked Lando how well Oscar was doing in the same car as him. A rookie driver beating the team's star child was never a pretty image.
The race started with Lando’s car being 2 seconds off the pace of K-Mag, which was really nice for him. As the race progressed, Lando almost made up 3 places by the end of the 38th lap.
However, McLaren messed up Lando in the pits, being stationary for almost 18 seconds. His 6th place turned into a plum last, and to make matters worse, he ended up retiring the car simply out of spite. He knew he was mad, and he showed it really well on the cameras, especially towards his team.
She knew it was a risk to go see Lando, especially after seeing how mad and snappy he looked. She knew he was probably beating himself up over the way this race went. It didn’t help that Oscar ended up on the podium. It was horrible, really, but neither of them could do anything.
He saw her enter his room; he didn’t like that. He didn’t want her to see him like this, all beaten and broken down. He didn’t realise when his tone shifted or when he felt the anger rise up within him.
All she had said was, “It’s not your fault; I know you are going to do better.“ That’s all he let her get out before he exploded.
“I honestly don’t remember asking for your opinion. God, you are so pathetic sometimes, always searching for attention from anyone who spares a glance at you. It’s all your fault; you think it’s funny to come into my room and give me glances right before a race. God, why are you so fucking stupid?"
“Maybe this is why your sister will always be better than you; your parents probably saw that, and so does everyone else when they see you and her together. Look at her; she’s a driver, and look at you sneaking into a driver's room, offering yourself to him all for what?? bloody attention?? Get out. I don’t want to see you anymore. All you’ve done is clutter my brain.”
Y/N walked out of his room with hot tears running down her face, her face all red, and a pounding headache. But what was worse than all that pain combined was the pain running through her heart; it genuinely felt like her heart was snapped into two and stepped on by a herd of elephants.
She didn’t know why he snapped at her; all she wanted was to help him. Everything he said made her fall into a spiralling downfall. All the work she’s done to keep her insecurities hidden and healed, Lando’s words ripped them apart and left them burning red and raw.
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buzzcutlip · 2 months ago
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W9nndering if you'd be into writing #1 / I with Carmen. 🩷
Hi, thank you for the request 💗🎅
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Prompts from my seasonal prompt list: Watching Christmas movies & Falling asleep together Carmen x Fem!Reader Explicit! with fluff!! Words: 2500
The hum of the central heating, neighbors' voices, the sound of the cars on the street drifting in through the single-glazed windows—all of it lulls both Carmen and you into a deep slumber, despite The Elf playing on the small screen of Carmen’s TV. Carmen's couch isn't the most comfortable, but exhaustion blunts any discomfort.
You’re both exhausted from the dinner rush, as it seems that the restaurant’s busier in December than ever before. Carmy never leaves before the end of the service, and you stay to help with whatever you can. You started as a waiter—a terrible one, needing the money for your last year of college. By some accident, or miracle, perhaps, Carmen never fired you. You ended up being in charge of the tedious administration at The Bear, alongside Natalie. You order and pick up fresh flower arrangements in Richie’s beat-up car, managing to escape any fines despite your dubious driving skills.
You wake up when Carmen shifts, his shoulder brushing yours. You’re positioned side by side, with your back slightly leaning against Carmy’s chest. His breathing is deep and slow, his hand resting near yours, close enough that the warmth of his skin seems to seep across the small gap. You yawn and then let your eyes roam over Carm’s handsome face. The furrow between his eyebrows is ever-present; he’s frowning slightly even in his sleep. Over the prominent slope of his nose, your eyes land on his lips. The warmth of the apartment wraps around the two of you like a cocoon, a fleeting reprieve from the whirlwind of the restaurant. You don’t remember being this warm and comfortable, and you indulge yourself, letting your eyes flutter shut again and silently enjoying Carmy’s immediate nearness, your temple leaning against his shoulder.
When Carmen stirs again, there’s a faint touch of his knuckles against your bare side, where your sweater’s ridden up. The touch sends a small shiver through your body, delicate but impossible to ignore. Your heart stumbles in your chest, and before you can second-guess yourself, you shift your hand just slightly, letting your fingertips graze his. It’s enough to make him move more fully. His breathing changes—slower, more measured—and you know he’s awake now. Somehow, he gets bolder—his hand trailing along your skin, his palm sweeping down to your hip and up under your breast. You have to bite your lip to keep from making a noise.
Carmen shifts his weight, all pretense of sleeping left behind, as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind, burying his face into the point where your shoulder meets your neck. His nose is cold and his lips hot, creating a deadly combination.
“Sorry,” he speaks up at last, his voice rough from sleep. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” “That’s okay,” you shake your head softly, glancing down at where his arms cross on your stomach, holding you. Your heart stumbles in your chest, and before you can second-guess yourself, you move your hand to cover his, acknowledging what’s going on. Carmen hums contently into your skin, tilting his head to lay close-mouthed kisses on the side of your neck. Automatically, your hand goes up and slightly behind to bury into his curls, and this time you let out a deep, shallow sigh. Needing to ground yourself, your other hand travels up, to lightly grip Carmy’s thick, tattooed forearm.
He shifts just slightly, moving so you face each other fully on the couch, hands lingering on your waist. You tilt your face up toward him, your breaths mingling in the small space between you. Carmen moves one of his hands up hesitantly, brushing against your jaw. His thumb skims your cheekbone, the touch so tender it nearly undoes you. He leans in slowly, but it’s you who closes the distance instead, your lips meeting his in a kiss.
And you love kissing Carmen. He does it with intent and a clear intention to please. He always cups your jaw and cheek in his large palm, and you love it. You love when he touches your face. It makes you feel even closer to him. You’ve only kissed him a handful of times, fleeting moments when the chaos quieted enough for vulnerability to peek through. Like the night you and Natalie realized The Bear was finally in the green, your shared relief spilling into celebration. Or the time you’d dared to ask him about Michael, the weight of his loss shared in silence.
That night, you knew he wanted to fuck you. You wanted it too, desperately. But instead of giving in, you’d pulled back, cheeks flaming, retreating with a nervous laugh and a hurried excuse. Since then, things have been... steady. Careful.
Carmen’s tongue is insistent yet gentle, as he licks into your mouth, and you tilt your face just so to give him better access. The Elf flickers on the TV, Buddy's chaotic cheer dimly illuminating the room. Neither of you is paying attention.
Each touch feels deliberate, like he’s memorizing you with his hands. Unbidden, you shift closer, your knee brushing his, your chest pressing against his as the kiss grows more heated. There’s something both unhurried and desperate about it, and you hesitate over how to let him know what you really want this time. You tilt his face up, revealing his long neck, kissing down the column of his throat just to buy some time.  Just a little bit, to clear your head.
You’re both breathless when you pause, wide-eyed and staring into each other. There’s so much in his gaze that you feel like you’re going to burn with need—for this man, for the most talented chef in the world, for the scared boy inside, for the man you’ve been falling for.
“Carmen—” you say urgently, not knowing how to continue. There’s confusion written on Carm’s face, and he takes your hand in his, bringing it to his mouth. He kisses the top of it repeatedly, making your heart ache as he waits for you to say what’s so urgent.
But you can’t make yourself. Instead, you take off your sweater, and your t-shirt too, yanking the material over your head, which leaves you in your simple black sports bra.
Your hair must be a mess, but you don’t care, any traces of shame long gone. Carmen seems to think the same, sensing the shift in the air as it grows thicker, filled with electricity. The undeniable pull between the two of you is finally materializing.
You dive back into the kiss at the same time, teeth and lips and tongues meeting, hands scrambling to grip something—anything. And soon, Carmy has you on your back beneath him. He’s busy discovering the new territory under him, while you push up his white t-shirt to get to more hot skin. It’s been a long time since you stopped lying to yourself about how attractive you find the chef. You run your nails blindly along his happy trail, enjoying the choked-out moans and quiet groans he makes.
“Fu—ck,” he stutters when you reach the root of his dick, teasing him before circling the girth of it. Pleased by his reaction, you give him a cheeky smile.
“Is this okay?”
“It—it's okay,” Carmy gets out, watching with rapture as you pull him out of his boxer briefs and sweatpants. You stroke him until precum bubbles out of the tip, a couple of beads dribbling down the length of his cock. Mesmerized, you watch the clear liquid until it connects with the ring of your fingers, then bring them to your lips, licking it off.
Carmen trembles above you. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters, and you pull him into a dirty kiss, letting him taste both you and himself. He lets you jerk him off while he kisses your breasts—first over the fabric of the bra, then pulling it down to reveal their fullness and sensitive nipples. He sucks on one, then the other, completely lost in it, making so much unabashed noise you can’t quite believe this is the same Carmy you know from the kitchen. Or maybe he just can’t help himself.
Seeing him indulge in so much apparent pleasure affects you more than anything. And as much as you want to appear unbothered and in control, it’s slipping steadily from your hands. When Carmen sits back on his haunches after what feels like forever of kissing and licking, his face and neck are flushed red, sweat clinging to his hairline. You can’t believe he hasn’t come yet.
“How are you still going on?” you wonder out loud, watching his face, hand stroking his dick slowly.
“I’m pretty good at—at holding it off,” Carmy explains, his hands roaming your sides absently—your tummy, your arms—never stopping.
“Hmm, I see.” Deciding to move things along, you let go of Carm for a second to shed your leggings, with Carmy’s eager help, of course. When you settle back down, you beckon him playfully.
“Come back here.”
And he does, shuffling until he’s kneeling between your spread legs, dick out. You reach for it and rub the length against the seam of your pussy through the damp fabric of your cotton panties, making Carmy jerk and hiss, the fabric rough against his sensitive dick.
You watch him closely, cataloging every twitch of his abdominal muscles, every tick of his jaw.
“It’s okay,” you murmur sweetly, and Carmen nods, his quiet but fervent “Yeah, fuck” filling the room, his eyes never leaving where you’re holding him against your cunt.
Perhaps it was a silly decision, wanting to torture yourself like this, rubbing your clit through your panties instead of getting Carmy’s dick in you. You’re both suffering—Carmen’s mouth slack, his hips ticking forward involuntarily, completely undone. And you, moaning each time the flushed head catches on your clit or the opening, are just as wrecked.
Thankfully, at some point—before you both lose your minds—Carmen decides to take off his own underwear and pants. Then, rummaging in the drawer of his bedside table for a good minute, he turns back to you with a condom in hand.
You just nod, already pulling down your soaked panties, as Carmen puts on the condom and returns to his space between your thighs.
“You’re okay?” he checks, low and careful, which you find just outrageously sweet, before he kisses you deeply and starts pushing in.
Despite how pent up you are from the foreplay and the endless teasing, you relax the second Carmy’s in, letting out a sigh and one pretty moan just for him.
Carmen fucks like he does everything—with focus, with care. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb tracing slow circles on your skin, anchoring you to him. Each thrust is deliberate, and you can’t escape his intense, wondrous gaze, as his eyes flick between your face and the place where his cock is repeatedly disappearing into you.
Oh, the sight of you—him in his stupidly little t-shirt all rucked up, ass naked. And you—with the sports bra the only piece of clothing still on, tits spilling out of it. It doesn’t take long before Carmy finds the perfect angle and hits your sweet spot with every single forward movement of his hips.
“Tell me how it feels.” It’s Carmen’s voice that pulls you out of the bliss.
You blink up at him, confused, your brain too foggy with pleasure.
“How does it feel?” he repeats, and you barely recognize his voice—unusually deep and choked.
'Oh god, he wants a review,' runs through your mind, thinking about how serious his possible praise kink might be. Before you come up with a reply, he touches his thumb to your clit, stroking tight circles against it with the rough pad.
“Really good,” you confess hurriedly, back arching.
Carmy’s gaze softens. “Good.” The intensity of his focus doesn’t waver; his eyes stay locked on yours even as his hand moves with deliberate precision.
“Carmy,” you breathe, barely recognizing your own voice. “Hmm?” His voice is low, rough, but there’s no mistaking the tenderness beneath it. You can’t find the words, your head tilting back against the couch as he leans down to kiss the curve of your neck. His mouth is warm, his lips soft, and the contrast between his relentless movement and gentle kisses has your breath catching. His other hand finds yours, and you let your fingers slide into his, threading them together.
“You’ll tell me if it’s too much, yeah?”
The care in his words has your chest tightening, a wave of affection mixing with the heat pooling low in your belly. You nod hurriedly, threading your fingers into his curls for something to hold onto. “It’s not—Carmy, it’s perfect.”
The approval seems to spur him on, his movements growing just slightly bolder, more confident. You can feel his breath on your skin as he trails kisses along your collarbone, murmuring something you don’t catch but that sends a shiver down your spine nonetheless.
“Good,” he repeats, his voice a little steadier now, but still tinged with something achingly raw.
You arch into him, a broken sound slipping from your lips as the hold on his hand tightens and you come, eyes squeezing shut, thighs trembling against Carm’s sides.
“That’s it,” he murmurs against your ear, the encouragement sending another rush of heat through you, making the walls of your pussy clench again. Through the sharp and consuming pleasure, you feel Carmen let go too, crying out hoarsely, his hips stuttering, rhythm faltering until he stops moving completely.
When you catch your breath, you fix your bra and reach down to the floor, feeling for your underwear—or at least leggings. By accident, you catch a glimpse of a scene with colorful fairy lights on the screen, and you pause.
“When I was a kid, I was afraid of the dark,” you start while putting on your clothes, still lying on the sofa next to Carmen. “For Christmas, my parents would put the tree in my room, leaving the strings of lights on even at night. They had this specific foggy—or frosty—dimmed glow. I didn’t need to sleep with the open door to the hall during the holidays. It’s been so long, but the memory of that particular light—I always remember home and Christmas,” you finish dreamily, turning to look at Carmy for the first time with a smile, feeling oddly content and relaxed.
He’s still naked from the waist down, but you don’t study that overly.
“We could try to get you the same lights. Would be nice. Would feel like home,” Carmy suggests softly, sincerely, pressing a brief, tender kiss to your shoulder.
It makes your chest tighten, and for a second, you fight back tears. You look at him for a long moment—at his rumpled t-shirt and messy hair. “You feel like home,” you whisper.
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moonlight-records · 2 months ago
Text
Christmas via letters| OP81 (HAC #10)
pairing: op81 x reader
summary: after you break your phone and waiting to buy a new one, you decide the only logical way to contact your boyfriend is via letter for the holiday season.
warning: fluff!
fc: none!
wc: ??
a/n: I FINALLY CAUGHT UP!!! day 10 of moonlight records holiday advent calendar!
day 1 | day 2 | day 3 | day 4 | day 5 | day 6 | day 7 | day 8 | day 9 | current day | day 11
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My dearest Oscar,
Oh my dear, Oscar, I do hope this letter finds you well. How these are very troubling times we have entered. I write this letter to you in the darkest of nights as slumber is near impossible. With you thousands of kilometers away my bed is so terribly big and empty and I am so terribly cold when I’m not in your embrace. Oh how I long for your embrace and to see your handsome face again.
Seriously though, hi babe! Did you like that opening? I hope so because that opening put a LOT of brain cells to work and we both know that I typically never have the brain cells. Now, you’re probably wondering why the hell am I sending you a letter when we can text or video call even though you barely answer your mom or me though since you’re always napping or flirting with Lando or Logan but I’m letting that go right now.
I am so glad you asked because my phone is…broken!! Isn’t that SO fun?! Before you ask, I am already one step ahead of you. Imagine it: a cold, bitter, and rainy Tuesday morning. I’m heading to class. Am I running late to class? Yes. Was it because I got myself a sweet treat? I am just a girl babe, just a girl. Anyway, I am making up for a great time and I will be early to my 8:30 class. Well, about that. I’m looking at my phone and I trip over my feet. Phone goes into a pothole puddle and is completely ruined so I have to wait till my next paycheck to buy a new one while trading in my old phone to get like a piss poor discount off my new phone.
I think I sent you a message on Instagram and TikTok from my laptop about it. I forgot that you aren’t on social media often like me which is very valid so I decided to send you a letter! Besides, I’ve always wanted to write Christmas letters but nobody I know wants to write letters anymore so you, my most loyal subject, are going to write Christmas letters with me! If you want, that is but I hope you do! Unless you want to be on social media to talk to your totally amazing, beautiful, funny girlfriend because I would not complain about that. Maybe you’d finally look at all those super funny cat memes I keep sending you! Well, hope to hear from you soon love
With much love,  Y/N
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My sweetest Y/N, 
I will not be talking in the 19th century. I don’t think I can do justice compared to you but I can confirm that this letter has found me well and I will cherish it deeply.
Listen babe, you knew that when you decided to accept the first date you gained a very sleepy and polite cat from what the fans are deeming me. This should not be a surprise to you or my mom. Though I am not ignoring your text messages to flirt with Lando! Babe, how could you ever think that I would do such a thing? Lando is just a dork that needs constant supervision. Now Logan, on the other hand…babe that is my emotional support American. Are you telling me I CAN’T flirt with my emotional support American? Come on Y/N, you should’ve known that when you said yes to being my girlfriend that it was me AND Logan. We are obviously a package deal.
You dropped your phone in a pothole puddle? That’s…disgusting oh my god. I actually almost gagged at the thought of you reaching into the puddle to grab your phone. No wonder why my phone hasn’t been blowing up as much, babe I am so sorry. Both about your phone being ruined but also for my lack of checking in. Honestly I’ve just been recharging socially to answer emails and stuff. It’s taking much longer since you’re not here to cuddle me…still not an excuse. I wanna emphasize that I’m not excusing my lack of check in for the past few days. Promise to get better on that.
You know what, when you get your new phone, I will not only have opened all your wonderful videos but I’ll even send some back. Just you watch. Though in the meantime since you do want to send letters this holiday season, I guess we can so, do you have anything fun planned for the holiday season?
Sincerely, Oscar Piastri
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Dear Oscar,
You answered!! Oh my god, baby you don’t know how excited I am for this. Also god, please do not remind me about the puddle. The thought still makes me shudder and gag. Though babe, you know me. I am not upset at all with you not answering all the time because it doesn’t really upset me. You know that because I know that you answer when I really need you to, which is like once in a blue moon. Like when I got the flat that one time and you so graciously got me an uber home. That was like what? Three months ago? Besides that, babe, show me a sign of life and I’m content for the day. Though are you admitting that Logan gets more attention than me? I might have to find our dating contract and revise that I get equal amount sir sleepy Piastri. But you’ll send me silly Tiktoks?! Oh Oscar, if you want to marry me, you should just ask me but this is so much better.
Oh! I don’t know. I’m helping mom this weekend decorate since it’s going to be the warmest weekend to handle the outside decorations. I’m going to attempt to help with the inside decorations since mom got grandpa’s Christmas village since we finally cleaned his house out. After that I’m kind of going with the flow, you know? Though mom has trusted me to do all the online shopping this year AKA she sends me screenshots and then tells me to order it with her credit card and hoard everything in my room, so. Eventually I will sit down one day and attempt to wrap though mom will probably redo it.
I know one day my friends want to go ice skating and see Wicked again. Now I am all for seeing Wicked again but ice skating? Babe, I fear if we go ice skating that you’ll get a call from me with all of us in the hospital. We can barely stand on our own two feet on a regular day and I know you’ve seen us. You know how clumsy my friends and I are but ‘tis the season, I guess!
Oh! We’re hosting Christmas this year, which will be very interesting. I mean, we got the space for sure but now that means fighting my cousin’s off so they don’t steal my plushies. Gotta defend ‘Mr. Artbag’ and ‘Sir Giggles’ you know? Do you have any plans for this upcoming holiday season?
Waiting for these cat memes, Y/N
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To my darling Y/N,
Oh my dearest Y/N, the thing about our dating contract is that it has sadly ended up with me back in Australia so you cannot have it. Though I am willing to revise the contract to make sure you get an equal amount of attention as Logan, though I need something in exchange. Luckily, I have found the contract and as I review our agreement, I think if I give you an equal amount of attention, you have to let me buy you one thing you want every month. Would you be willing to agree to those terms? I’ll throw in 5 cat memes a week free of charge.
Oh that’ll be fun. My sisters wanted to go shopping and since I haven’t seen them I decided to go with them. I really became the bag holder though I wasn’t that upset because I did manage to find some of your Christmas gifts and actually get them with the assistant of my sisters. AKA they asked me what I was looking for and they found it by some miracle. I wish I had that special touch to find things I need–like mothers do you know? Anyway, besides that I don’t know. Mom’s almost done decorating and dad got the tree since ours sadly broke (we’ve had it for almost 10 years, we needed a new one) and they already decorated the tree. Though I might take Rosie and Basil out to grab some gifts.
Wait, you guys are going ice skating? Well, surprise, I’m actually coming out to visit for a bit. Logan and Lando want to hang out before Logan heads back to the states for the holidays so if you guys could try to schedule that about two weeks later when I’m around, I would love to go with you guys, though I would ask if Lando and Logan could possibly join? I have no issue in becoming a personal ambulance, especially if Lando is going to go ice skating. Save us all.
What are you doing for New Years? If you’re not doing anything, mom and my sisters would love to have you over. They miss you and they’re going insane without you having a phone to text them life updates. To be honest, I also miss waking up to all your messages and memes and getting real time updates about your life. Can I buy you a phone? Please?
Hope you get your new phone soon, Oscar Piastri
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To the polite sleepy cat,
I talked to my lawyer about this new agreement in our contract and we have agreed to the terms you are requesting. Though I am not exactly happy with the terms about buying me one gift a month but you promise to send 5 cat memes so it’s fine. Though I will say, I am okay with it just being 5 memes a week free of charge if you cannot find any good cat memes. As long as it is a meme of any sorts I will overlook the buying me something for once a month.
Though on a serious note, YOU’RE COMING TO VISIT?! Oh my god, babe this is the best news I have ever heard. Yeah of course! I already asked the group and they would love to have Logan and Lando join us with ice skating! We were planning on getting dinner after if that’s okay with you guys? We’re not sure where we want to go yet but I’m sure we all can figure something out when we all meet up! Also, yes I made sure I was all bundled up, I’m not that crazy! Besides, I want to be able to smooth my dear boyfriend before the season starts without getting him in trouble for starting the new season a bit under the weather. 
Ha! Jokes on you, I already ordered my phone. I’m just waiting for it to ship because of course it wasn’t in stock when I went to get it in person. You know me, I just need a simple phone so I was going to get the same one as before. Sadly, it seems that my phone has become popular because they sold out in person! Oscar, do you know how devastated I was to venture out on my weekend to find out it’s out of stock? Truly, a dark day for me but my phone should be here before this letter is sent out. Promise that I’ll send you all my funny memes to make up for these lost times.
 As of right now, I don’t think I’m doing anything for New Years. I don’t know what the group wants to do yet but I think they’re all spending the holiday with their significant others so I would love to stay with you and the Piastri family! Are you kidding me? How else am I supposed to see Rosie and Basil? 
Well, this is probably coming around the holiday so, merry Christmas my love.
You’re probably napping, Y/N
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To the golden retriever,
Hopefully, this reaches you before I arrive. I’m glad to know that your lawyer agrees with these new terms. Do you accept memes via powerpoint presentations? I have taken some time out of my very very very busy schedule to compile a list of the top ten, not five but ten memes that I have seen this week that I believe you will enjoy. Most of them are from the same meme trending on TikTok but I think these stories are right up your alleyway along with some cat memes. 
I’m glad you were all bundled up. Not that I would personally care if I got sick if it meant getting my mandatory kisses and cuddles that I’ve been longing for. Any trouble is worth it if it’s so I can see you. I’ve spoken to Lando and Logan and they have agreed that planning for dinner would be the best. Lando has done his usual request of no fish please and thank you. Damn. I was hoping that you didn’t order it so that could’ve been the free gift of the month on top of your Christmas presents. Whatever. Buying you a book will be a great second option and you can’t yell at me!
Oh haha, very funny. I knew this was going to be an issue when I brought you home but I’ll let it go, only because that means you’ll give me extra cuddles later for feeling bad. Kidding, kidding, but seriously. I’m glad that you can come over for New Years. It’ll be fun and everyone will be glad to see you.
Also, I appreciate what you did with the lipstick on this letter. Y/N, you truly flatter me. You think so highly of me that you’ll give me a kiss through the letter? Oh, be still my beating heart. I hope you like my washi tape decorations. I know it’s not on the level of kissing a letter but I think for the first time, it’s great. I also hope you like the polaroid attached as well, if it stays attached. Mom is pretty proud at capturing my failure of trying to build a gingerbread house.
See you soon & at New Years Eve, Oscar Piastri
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toxycodone · 8 months ago
Note
oviposition anon teehee i wanted to elaborate more last night but i was tired as fuck and zooted off the penjamin. but like getting separated from the rest of the party and encountering the slime creacher alone with Laios.... you think he'd tell you what the thing is? im sure he knows alllll about it, like he has a private little list of all the most fuckable monsters and of course the damn oviposition slime is on there. do u think he just dives right in head first, or does he try to create some kind of plausibly deniable situation in battle? youre terrified cause you cant make heads or tails of this creature in order to kill it and arent strong with fire magic but.... why does he look like he's having fun? and is that his clothes getting dissolved in there....? and why is he so hot all helpless suspended in the pink gel (ive just now decided the slime is pink), shuddering with pleasure as each near transparent egg enters his body? if you were to get caught by it without knowing what it is i dont think he'd leave you in there, but when he pulls you out of the goop his raging hard on is impossible to ignore and just BEGS questioning.... maybe you need to go seek out another one? or maybe i need to get writing
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LISTEN TO ME. ANON YOU ARE ONE HUNDRED PERCENT ONTO SOMETHING. (And I would 100% be down to read something full about this bc oh my god???) and pink slime is the superior color you’re based.
contents: monster fucking, mutual masturbation? if you can call it that?
When you two encounter the slime, Laios is oddly…excited? I mean, he’s always excited to see monsters, but this. Is different. He doesn’t brandish his weapon or look stiff at all when you two encounter it, so you put away yours and you’re like…what the fuck is the deal man??
Laios looks between you and the slime. After a few moments, he casually walks to you.
“Well…um…this slime. They’re usually aggressive, but, you can tell by the color that it’s breeding season. And they’re unusually docile when this occurs…”
So you’re like? Okay. Awesome. No fight required. Let’s get out of here.
But Laios taps his fingers. He looks away a little as he plays with his thumbs.
“You see…it’s docile. But it doesn’t mean we can just leave. Unless we want to find another route. But it’s going to keep going until it eventually finds an adventurer…to use as a host….”
And you’re kinda like um? So do you wanna kill it? Or
And Laios is like “I HAVE AN IDEA. So…the secretions of this slime numb pain and promote healing. If we help this slime out…we can get some of those. It may be useful when Marcille’s out of mana….” Laios then puts his hands on your shoulders and looks at you seriously. “I PROPOSE…we let this slime use us as hosts. And in return, we collect its secretions and save any other unaware adventurer an encounter with it!”
And you’re floored. But once he explains to you, it’s just eggs (they lay them in adventurers to spread their kind to other floors). And it’ll feel *good*. You put your hands on your hips.
“Let me guess. You’ve been waiting for us to encounter this monster, huh….?”
*Cue that iconic Laios blushing panel.*
Anyways, you accept. Laios gives you the rundown from his guide and notes from his journal. First, you have to remove your clothing. The slime will get them soaked and likely tear them to shreds anyways, and if you don’t have a spare you’re screwed. Then, the slime’s secretions will coax you into relaxation. You’ll feel yourself go limp, but it’s not a bad thing. It’ll just make it easier for this whole process—so don’t fight it. Lastly…just enjoy? The slime does all the work and the eggs aren’t dangerous. You’ll pass them in a few days when the incubation period has succeeded (Laios wants to keep one or two to eat, but he doesn’t explicitly say that now).
And so you agree. It seems…oddly fun. Neither of you get time to really do anything sexual while dungeon crawling. And this seems like a good release.
And so you let it happen and it’s fucking MIND BLOWING. The slime’s secretions are absorbed through your skin as it surrounds you, making you feel some weird mix between drunk and high. Your body is limp, but everything you feel is extremely heightened.
The slime teases you all over and gently prods at your holes before slowly opening you up. (if you have a cervix) it’s numbing properties keep it from hurting as it spreads you open and pumps its eggs into your womb/hole. It’s honestly one of the best experiences you’ve had.
It’s like. Some sort of ethereal mutual masturbation experience with Laios, because when you look at him his skin is almost as pink as the slime. His brows are furrowed, eyes shut tight as he moans wantonly, not a care in the world. You can tell when an egg is laid in him bc his face contorts, but then his licks his lips and lets out a shaky moan. There’s already streaks of white in the slime and you’re not sure if it’s just a ton of precum or if he’s already came from the slime.
But you don’t have a lot of time to think about that before you’re shuddering from your own orgasm. It seems the slime coaxes as many as it can from you and Laios—as the more you relax and enjoy the experience the easier it is to continue pumping eggs into your system.
And afterwards, the slime resumes its usual light blue color and withdraws from you two. If you weren’t mistaken…you’d think it was blushing….theres two pink patches left on its “cheeks” as it slithers away, streaks of cum and slick still present in its body.
And. Of course. In typical Laios fashion, while you two are coming back to your senses, covered in slick and slime and who knows what else. All he can do is look at you with that same dopey lovestruck expression and mumble about how much he loves you.
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2amriize · 6 months ago
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✩࿐࿔ eyes on you - eunseok one shot
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genre: academic rivals, enemies to friends pairing: eunseok x reader
Eunseok is known for being one of the smartest and most perfect students at the country’s top university. He had never found anyone who could challenge his position until you arrived at the university as the new student. With an impeccable academic record, you quickly became his only rival.
From the very first day Eunseok met you, he saw you as a threat, and although he was friendly with everyone else, he hardly ever spoke to you. He basically acted like you didn’t exist. You always thought it was because he didn’t want to accept that there was someone who could compete with him.
At first, it could be said that it was only a rivalry over academic grades, but this rivalry grew over time, adding in popularity, achievements, awards in competitions, and so on. Tensions were rising as the school year progressed, and everyone in your class could feel it.
It was exam season. You usually studied in your room, but your roommate had invited some friends over for a few days, making it impossible for you to concentrate there. After trying several cafés to study, you decided that the best option might be to go to the university library. You had been avoiding it all this time because you knew exactly who always studied there: Eunseok.
You looked around for a place to sit, but since it was exam season, the place was completely full. You walked through the aisles to see if there was any empty seat towards the back, and finally, you found a spot where no one was sitting. You walked as fast as you could so no one would take the seat, and when you got there, you sat down quickly.
You sighed in relief, but when you looked up, you were completely stunned. Eunseok was sitting right in front of you, looking at his computer while trying to solve some exercises in his notebook. Eunseok raised his head, making eye contact with you.
“Well, well, what’s y/n doing here? I thought you could only study in your room,” Eunseok whispered, letting out a soft laugh.
“I came to keep a close eye on you,” you joked as you pulled out your laptop and notebooks.
“Don’t worry about me, y/n. You should focus on yourself. After all, it’s very easy for me to beat you.” Eunseok watched you with a smirk, the kind that always made your blood boil. You simply ignored his words, immediately getting to work on studying for the calculus exam you had coming up.
Although you thought it would be hard to concentrate in the library (especially with Eunseok in front of you), the hours passed by quickly. When you looked out the window, you realized it was already dark. You checked the time on your laptop: 11:38 p.m. You had been there all afternoon, and you were so focused on solving the exercises that you hadn’t even realized you had missed dinner.
You stretched a little as you lifted your head from your laptop, noticing that almost everyone had already left the library, but Eunseok was still sitting in front of you. He was focused on writing things on a piece of paper while doing some calculations on his calculator. You noticed that his hair was a bit messy, and he was wearing glasses. You had never seen him like this before. In class, he was always well-dressed and polished, and as far as you could remember, he never wore glasses to class. He really presented himself as perfect in everyone’s eyes.
Eunseok stretched as well, letting out a small yawn while looking at you. You were also starting to feel a bit tired, not to mention starving, but seeing how Eunseok started writing a new exercise in his notebook, you knew you couldn’t just get up and leave. It was a silent battle of sorts, where the last one studying the longest would win. This was also one of the reasons you had been avoiding the library to study, because you knew there would be a competition over who could study the longest. Still, you finished stretching and went back to looking at your laptop, starting to work on more exercises.
When you checked the time on your laptop again, it was 2 a.m. Your eyes were starting to close more and more, your vision getting a bit blurry as you looked at your notes. Plus, you couldn’t help but hear your stomach growling. What if I close my eyes for a few seconds? you thought as you rested your head on one of your arms.
You didn’t expect that when you opened your eyes again, Eunseok would be standing next to you, touching your shoulder to wake you up. You quickly sat up, confused as you looked at him.
“What… what’s going on?”
“You fell asleep, y/n. That’s enough,” Eunseok murmured as he started packing up your things, leaving you looking at him confused as you started to pack them too. Why was he suddenly being nice to you?
“No, I didn’t fall asleep, I was just resting,” you heard Eunseok laugh.
“Yeah, sure…”
When you finished packing up your things, you stood up from your chair, realizing you were wearing a sweatshirt on your shoulders that wasn’t yours.
“I put it on you so you wouldn’t get cold. I know better than anyone how hard it is to study when you’re sick,” Eunseok said as he started walking towards the library exit, and you followed him.
“Thanks…” You couldn’t deny that you were taken by surprise by Eunseok’s attitude towards you, but on the other hand, his words felt very familiar. It was true that Eunseok could understand you when it came to studying, since both of you had probably had the same experiences in high school, studying all hours to be the best in the class, even when sick.
You walked to the exit of the library in silence, stopping at the door. You looked at each other in silence for a few seconds until Eunseok broke the silence.
“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, but it wasn’t so bad having you as a table partner. But, well, good night…” he said before turning around and starting to walk towards his dorm.
Did you hear that right? You couldn’t help but smile when you heard his words.
“See you tomorrow, Eunseok,” you raised your voice a little so he could hear you before heading to your room as well.
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ᡣ𐭩 masterlist
taglist: @cherryishxo @gacktsa
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sweetdispatch · 3 months ago
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Thank you, I love you - C. Keller
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pairing: Clayton Keller x girlfriend!reader
summary: Three times when she helped Clayton and one time when Clayton helped her
warning: NSFW, graphic sex (+18), swear words
words: 2.4k
note: ahh my first ever request work! i was so excited to write about clayton, enjoy it💕
masterlist
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When Arizona’s franchise was suspended
In April, the big news hit that Coyotes won’t be in NHL. This was a shock for Clayton. He knew about the problems, but he was pushing away the thought that club, who drafted him and gave him a chance to play won’t be existing. His head was spiraling, he was uncertain about his future.
When Clayton got back home after coach told them about this, he hasn’t acknowledged his girlfriend sitting on a kitchen chair, waiting for him. Like always, she asked him questions about the training, but he haven’t heard anything. It was uncommon for him to ignore her. She started wondering if she has done something to piss him off.
She felt like the right call is to give Clayton space. When he went straight to the living room and turned on a movie, she went to their bedroom. As much as she wanted to confront him and ask him what’s going on, she preferred to stay out of it and wait for him to talk.
The evening came and she decided to leave the room and go to the kitchen to cook for both. She knew that Clayton can’t prepare any meals and probably haven't ate anything since he returned. She stepped into the kitchen, and he saw her. He immediately stood up and rushed to her.
“Hi love”. Clayton said and kissed her. “Sorry for earlier but I’ve got weird news and couldn’t place my mind in the right spot”. He hugged her and placed his head on her shoulder.
“Talk to me baby”. That’s all she said while running her hand down his back.
“Our franchise is suspended which means we’re not existing since next season”. He admitted to her. She felt the wet spot on her arm, but she didn't care about it. “I don’t even know if I’m gonna play hockey next season. Every club has good players on my position. I don’t want to retire in the age of 26, there’s still so many things I want to achieve”. She pushed herself from him to look at him. She grabbed Clayton’s face in her hand and kissed his lips.
“Baby, you’ll be playing next season. Stop doing this to yourself. You are great player, and you’ll find a new club. You won’t be in Arizona anymore, but you’ll stay in NHL. Trust me. This is all new and that’s why you feel this way but there’s gonna be club to take you under their wing”.
Clayton looked at her with love in his eyes. He knew she’s right. He’s good player and he’ll find a new club. He grabbed her waist and pulled her to another hug.
“Thank you. I needed this pep talk. I guess I just started overreacting after hearing the news”.
“That’s why I’m always here for you. Just try not to shut me off. I genuinely thought I did something to piss you off and that’s why you haven’t spoke to me since you got back home”. She laughed. He kissed her passionately.
“You, my love, could never do anything wrong”. He kissed her again. “Now, where are we going on dinner?” He asked.
“I planned to cook something. Why would you want to go out?” She asked confused.
“You deserve to be treated like a princess so we’re going out”. When they were going to the car, to lighten the mood, she joked.
“Besides, without Arizona there’s gonna be 31 clubs which is unpaired. They have to create a new team to make it even”. Clayton laughed when he heard that.
“You’re impossible”.
“Maybe, but you love me for that”. Before he opened her door, he grabbed her cheek and kissed her.
“You don’t even have a clue how much I love you”.
When they’ve moved to Utah (NSFW)
Whole summer, Clayton and his girlfriend spent on moving out from Arizona to Utah. It was stressful time for them because they needed to pack all their years of life into boxes. Both had fun finding out old things and getting all retrospections while looking at them. When the house was empty, they felt sad. All their relationship was moving on from the place where they fall in love.
Despite it, she and Clayton were excited for their new chapter. They started new adventure together in Utah. When they bought new house and stepped in, they sheer a tear. This was the place where they’re gonna be a family. She was the first one to look around. Clayton was going after her like a puppy. He saw how she’s gonna be taking care of her their kids in this place. He could already imagine that.
“So, what do you think?” He asked her.
“I love it. It’s beautiful. Can’t wait to start our new life here”. She said and placed her hands behind his neck. “What do you think?”
“It’s great. I’m so happy that you moved here with me”. He leans down and kissed her. “We need to celebrate this”. He kissed her again.
“Mhm, and what do you have in mind?” She asked knowing exactly what he has in mind.
“Let me show you”. Clayton grabbed her under her knees and took her in bridal style to the bedroom. He placed her on their new bed and started to kiss her.
“Wait”. She pulled out from him, and he looked confused. “We’re celebrating new life thanks to your transfer here so let me do the work”. He smiled at her words.
“And how are you gonna do it?”
“Let me ride you”. She blushed at her words. No matter how many times they had sex or even conversations about it, she was shy.
“Undressed love and I’ll do the same. Later, I’m all yours”. She obeyed his words. He undressed immediately. She took off her shirt and pants. but when she wanted to unclip her bra, he stopped her. He was standing naked in front on her when he reached for the bra clip to take if off. Later, he kneeled in front of her and took off her panties. He placed kisses on her lower stomach.
“Stop teasing babe, I really need your dick in me”. Clayton laughed at her words.
“Someone’s eager”. He kissed her lips and sat on the bed. “Then ride me like you wanted”.
She sat on his thighs and spit on her hand to run it over his dick.
“Now, you stop teasing me or I’ll get my way with you”. He said in serious tone. She grabbed his cock and placed her entry on his. Clayton grabbed her waist and helped her to fully sat on him.
“Fuck, you’re huge Clayton”. He smiled at her words. He hasn’t done anything. Just kept his hands on her waist and let her adjust to his length. When she was ready, she started jumping on him. He took off his hands from her waist and played with her tits. She was moaning his name. When she got little tired, he pulled her to his chest and grabbed her ass to helped her in the movements. She started to kiss his jawline until she moaned again from the new angle.
“Clayton… I’m close”. She said while making hickeys on his collarbone.
“Hold on, I’m almost there love”. He speeds up and soon after he could feel her coming all over his cock. He thrusted couple more times and cum in her pussy.
She fell on his chest tired. Clayton stayed in her and kissed her temple.
“I guess we just christened our new house”. She laughed at his words. He felt that she’s shivering from the cold. “C’mon, let’s take a bath and order some takeaway. The boxes can wait until tomorrow. I love you”. He picked her up and kissed her cheek.
When Clayton had been named a captain
Everything was going smoothly in Utah. Most of Clayton’s teammates were transferred there and he’d been hanging out with them. With his teammates, their partners also came here so she had friends here too. They started new life in new state, but they stayed in the same circle.
When Clayton started trainings with new team, there was still big unknown; who’s gonna be a captain in Utah Hockey Club. Everyone was wondering about it but all their focus was on preparation for upcoming season. Almost every preseason game, Utah played without captain. It changed a week before start of the season.
Day after game against Anaheim, the coach named a first-ever Utah captain. He decided that Clayton is the best option with his knowledge, help and understanding. He was over the moon, grateful for the trust and opportunity. In Arizona, he had been alternate captain but now, he was the leader of this ship.
When Clayton returned to their house, he saw her laying on the couch, watching a tv show. He dropped his luggage and laid on top of her.
“Get off me”. She said giggling at his affection. “What’s with you babe? Had a good trip?” She asked curious about what he’s gonna say to her.
 “Two wins and two lost games but that’s not important”. He gets off her and stand up next to his girlfriend.
“Okay, now you’re scaring me”.
“I’ve been named a captain”. Clayton announced proudly to her. When she heard that, she screamed from joy and throw herself into his arms. He caught her trying not to fall at the coffee table behind them.
“I’m so fucking proud of you babe. Oh my gosh, this is huge. I… I don’t know what to say”. She looked into his eyes. He saw the tears coming down her cheeks, so he dried them off with his thumb.
“Thanks love but…” He looked at her with serious expression. “What if I fail them?”
“Stop. You’re the right person on the right place. You’ve already been a captain in Arizona, and you did great”.
“Alternate captain”. Clayton corrected her.
“Still a captain. Look, I get it that you’re scared that you might fail them, but you have coaches and team behind your back. You’re not alone in this. You’ve proved yourself in the past 8 years. You’re great player but most importantly you’re intelligent and you know what you’re doing. You know those guys very well and they trust you. You’re not gonna fail. Not on my watch”. She kissed him.
“Thank you. I needed those words. I don’t know what I would done without you”.
“That’s why I’m here, to help you and support you”.
“Oh, I love you”. He kissed her and hugged her like his life depended on it.
“I love you too captain”.
When she found out that she’s pregnant
She had been feeling sick when Clayton left on a roadie, but she didn’t wanted to bother him. She was certain that it was just food poisoning. When Utah was playing against New York Rangers, she invited other girlfriends to her and Clayton’s house to watch the game. Soon after, game was forgotten, and they had a girl’s night.
She refused to drink wine with them, and questions started floating about pregnancy. She explained that she feels sick and that’s why she doesn’t want to drink but other girls tried to convince her to take the test. At first, she was skeptical, but she knew she has nothing to waste. The next day, she went to the pharmacy to buy pregnancy test.
Sitting in the bathroom and looking at it, she got scared. She knew it’s a bad timing for them to have a kid. They just moved to their new house. She was searching for a new job and Clayton just became a captain. She took a deep breath and took the test.
The next three minutes went super slow. Her mind was floating around. When she grabbed the test, she saw that it’s positive. She started to cry but didn’t know if it’s from happiness or sadness.
She and Clayton always dreamt about having kids, but they wanted to wait until they’re married. They haven’t even been engaged. Will Clayton be happy? What if he leaves her? She started to have all the dark scenarios in her head. She didn’t want to break the news to him on the phone. She hasn’t even said to him that she’s sick because she was confident that he’s gonna freak out.
When Clayton returned from roadie, he immediately knew that something is off with his girlfriend. She haven't came to welcome him, and the house was dead silent. His steps lead him to their bedroom. When he opened the door, he saw her sitting in the middle of their bed biting her nails, habit she had, when she was nervous.
“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay”. Clayton approached her, grabbing her hands and placing them down.
“No, it’s not okay”. By her voice, he knew she was crying.
“Tell me what’s wrong”. She took a deep breath.
“I’m pregnant”. She whispered. Her head was looking down, she hasn’t had the bravery to look into his eyes.
“Love, that’s a great news”. He grabbed her under the chin, so she was looking at him. “We wanted to have kids. Why are you sad about it?”
“It’s the timing. I don’t have a job; you are a captain. We just moved here. It’s all happening too fast”.
“Maybe fact that you don’t have a job is a good thing. You can stay at home and rest while you are growing new life. You know that money is not a problem. I know that this might look like a bad timing, but we can do it. Together. I’m not leaving you alone in this. We can handle it”. He said and hugged her. He was over the moon by the news, but her reaction scared him. “But if you don’t want to have a kid now, I’ll be fine with that. It’s your body so you’ll decide. Although, I’m willing to be part of this adventure with you”.
“I want this kid but… I don’t know. I guess I freaked out”.
“We’re a team love. I’m here for you”. He kissed her.
“We’re gonna be parents. This sounds insane”.
“True, but I’m excited for the new journey, especially with you by my side”.
“I love you Clayton”. She kissed him deeply.
“I love you too future mommy”. He joked and kissed her back.
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