#not counting the time it took to do the first draft this took just under 7 hours

[starmagnets]

saw sonic 3 the other day and got inspired to do my second ever full digital painting

(background only version under the cut)

[fungateshortcakes]

Munch Munch

OMG I FORGOT I HAD THIS IN MY DRAFTS FORGIVE ME

Just a lil old man Logan drabble bc UGHHH he can crush my head with those juicy arms AHHH

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Logan never understood why you looked at him the way you did.

He was old. He was tired. His body was breaking down from the inside, poisoned by the very thing that once made him invincible. His hands shook more than they used to and no matter how hard he tried to hide it, you saw. You saw everything.

And yet there you were, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed, giving him that look again. Like he was something worth staring at. Logan wasn’t used to being wanted. Not like this.

He could feel your gaze tracing over his arms as he sat in his white wifebeater at the kitchen table. This was by far not the first time he caught you staring at him like that. He noticed it every time. The way you would watch the flex of his biceps beneath his shirt, the way his forearms tensed whenever he clenched his fists. He wasn’t blind. And if he had any doubts, well, the way you were looking at him right now? Like you wanted to sink your teeth into him? Yeah. That cleared things up really fast.

"You’re staring again" he muttered, though he didn’t cover up, just took another sip of his drink. "Mhm" you hummed completely unapologetic in how you were goggling his arms. You pushed yourself away from the doorframe and stepped in closer, fingers reaching out to lightly drag over his arm, just enough to make his skin prickle.

Logan exhaled sharply through his nose, setting the beer can in his hand down on the table "You got a problem?"

"Yeah, actually" you said, tilting your head. "These arms? They’re just sitting there. Not being held. Not being bitten. Wasted potential, really."

Logan choked on a laugh, a rare sound from him "Bitten? What do you-?" before he could finish his sentence, you leaned in and without hesitation you pressed your teeth lightly against his bicep. Not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make him feel it. A playful little bite that was gone as fast as it came.

Logan went completely still. The only sound was the sharp breath he sucked in through his teeth. You pulled back again and watched his reaction, your lips curling into a satisfied smirk. "Huh, that shut you up really quick."

Logan finally blinked, looking up at you like he wasn’t quite sure what the hell just happened. He opened his mouth but closed it before any words came out, rubbing a hand over his beard and sighing deeply.

"You just bit me" he said, like he was still trying to process it.

You grinned "Yeah. You act like you can just sit here with these babies out and expect me not to."

Logan huffed, shaking his head at your words, but the corner of his mouth twitched. He almost a smiled. Almost. But you counted it as a win nonetheless "You’re goddamn ridiculous" he muttered.

"Maybe" you mused with a pout, poking at his arm again. "Now flex for me, old man. Let me see the goods." you demanded, already munching on your bottom lip in anticipation. You just couldn't help it. You knew he was starting to feel his age, to look it, too. But damn, his arms were still plumb 'n thick. Just how you liked them.

Logan let out a low groan and for a second you thought he would just ignore you, but to your absolute delight, he sat up a little more straight, rolled his shoulders back and flexed- just a little, as if to tease. Just enough to make the veins in his forearms pop, to make the muscles in his biceps shift under his skin.

And goddamn, you swore you felt lightheaded...and how your panties were getting wet. You bit your lip at the sight "Shit" you breathed, your eyes fighting from rolling back because good god "You are so hot."

Logan narrowed his eyes at your praise, grumbling something under his breath, but you caught the way his ears burned just a little bit pink. He could act all gruff and broody, but you knew the truth now.

You were disappointed as he lowered his arm again. You stepped closer, placing your hands on his arms, fingers tracing the muscle slowly, deliberately. A shudder ran up his spine at your touch. He tried to play it down, but he couldn't hide the obvious goosebumps explodig over his scarred skin "Do it again, baby. " you murmured, smoothing over his shoulder and arms.

Logan arched a brow "Again?"

"Again" you stated firmly, it sounded like a command to him. And maybe he would follow it. He rolled his eyes, but you were able to catch the slightest smile on his lips that seemed a little proud, flattered even. It was balm for the soul, your words. You actually wanted to see him, worship something he thought no one cared for anymore. But here you were.

Acting as if he was annoyed by your persistance, he lifted his arm and flexed, this time for real. The muscle in his biceps tensed, thick and solid beneath your hands that wandered over the firm muscle. His forearms flexed, veins running up his skin like a goddamn work of art. The old scars, the roughness, the strength, it was all so perfect. Your forearm next to his biceps looked so small, it made your mouth water.

And you couldn’t help it. You made a sound. A tiny, helpless whimper that you couldn’t stop even if you tried.

Logan froze and his arm lowered slightly "Did you just-?"

"Shut up" you giggled, pressing your face against his shoulder to hide the absolute mess he was making of you "Nah, sweetheart" he said, his voice downright smug and a grin spreading across his face while he stood up, towering over you, wrapping his strong arms around your neck, making you groan as pure, firm muscle surrounded your flushed face "What was that sound?" he teased, his voice low and raspy against your ear

You whined annoyed against his broad chest, wanting him to drop it "Logan"

But he wasn't letting up "You whimpered" he stated matter of factly, clearly enjoying himself "Over my arms."

Your hands slid up his sides, squeezing him. You looked up through your eyelashes, a suggestive grin on your lips "Well, you could just shut me up with these big, strong arms of yours" you purred, leaning up to kiss him. And Logan could already picture the way your teeth would sink into his flesh as he held you in a headlock while pounding his cock into you from behind, leaving deep bite marks on his arms that wouldn’t start to fade until the next morning. He grinned back down at you, capturing your lips in a kiss.

"Let's give you a reason to bite, bub"

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Fuck me he is so hot the best he ever looked and I will DIE on that hill. One chance, ONE FUCKING CHANCE!!!! I am not rlly the girly to randomly bite my partner but istg I would munch and nibble and gnaw on his arms FOREVER they are so big and manly and mhmm and yummy and BARK BARK

I have two more old man Logan drafts I completely forgot about- should I post them too?

[ivyyisbored22]

𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨𝐨—𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘹 (𝘧𝘦𝘮) 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

A friends to lovers, Stray Kids one shot.

Synopsis: When your best friend was hanging out at your place, you suddenly babbled out something that's been going on in your head. And Chan felt relieved when he realised it wasn't only him who felt the same.

Warnings: Smut🔞, unprotected sex, confessions, experienced, sweet (blond) Chan, reader's first time, creampie, oral (f.receiving), fingering, kisses, pet names (baby), fluff.

Minors do not interact!!!

Note: I remember getting a comment under my one shot 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 from @whatudowhennooneseesyou, about a series of the reader's first times with each member. I'm still considering on that idea, so here's Chan's version for now.(Ps I had this collecting dust in my drafts since September)

If this isn't your thing, you're more than welcome to skip it. Reblogs, likes, comments and feedbacks are always appreciated.

ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.

Word count: 5.1k

𝑬𝑵𝑱𝑶𝒀!

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Even though your playstation 5 “lived” in your apartment, the real owner of it was Chan. 

You got it because you found a game interesting and then you lost interest in it. But Chan? He took over like it was his duty to ensure the console felt appreciated. Now, it sat proudly near your TV, practically an extension of him whenever he visited. 

Both of you were in your living room, his eyes glued to the screen as fingers moved effortlessly over the controller, brows furrowed in concentration.

You sat beside him on the couch, knees drawn up, watching the way his expression changed with every twist and turn on the screen. The warm glow from the TV flickered across his sharp features, making his dark eyes glimmer.

He was so immersed, yet your mind was somewhere else entirely.

You swallowed, fiddling with the hem of your hoodie as an impulsive thought bubbled up, one that had been brewing for some time now.

You wanted to kiss him. 

It wasn’t the first time you thought about it, but tonight, the weight of it pressed harder, leaving your stomach in knots.

Maybe it was the way he looked so at home in your space, or how he always made time for you despite his crazy schedule. Or maybe it was just him—just Chan.

However, it felt wrong. Chan was your best friend, the one who had been there for you through everything since the beginning. You both built such a strong bond, so you feared your feelings would ruin what you have. 

But not saying anything also drove you crazy. There's nothing that you've kept as a secret from him but this felt more than just something random. 

The fear of rejection made it hard for you to think so you kept your feelings locked away. But you also had a gut feeling lingering, maybe you both are more than just friends. 

And then as if your body had a mind of its own, you moved in closer to him, and whispered, “Chan…” 

He didn't take his eyes off the screen. Then suddenly you blurted out.

“Have you ever thought about us…being together?”

His fingers fumbled over the buttons. A sharp in-game crash filled the room, followed by the bright red letters of Game Over flashing across the screen. 

Silence stretched between you two, only broken by the faint hum of the console and your own thudding heartbeat.

Chan slowly turned his head, blinking as if trying to process if you��d actually said that out loud or if his sleep-deprived brain was playing tricks on him. 

His mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “What?”

And then, as if you couldn’t hold back anymore, you leaned forward and pressed your lips on his. 

Chan's eyes widened as your mouth collided with his, his heart banging in his ears. The warmth of your lips sent a shock through him, short-circuiting every rational thought.

Your insides twisted in knots as you pulled away just an inch, your breath shaky. "Oh my God," you whispered, eyes darting anywhere but at him. "I—I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have—"

Chan's hands shot up, his hand cupping  on your face, keeping you from pulling too far away. He swallowed hard, his breath uneven as if he had just run a marathon. "You... kissed me.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “I'm sorry…” you said again, your voice apologetic, you suddenly felt small in front of him, but Chan's gaze pierced into yours.

“Are you?” He asked teasingly. Embarrassment crawled up your neck and you tried to pull back from his hold but he pulled you towards him until you were on his lap. 

Before you could say anything, his lips pressed on yours again immediately, his hand sliding up your waist as his mouth moved over yours, angling your head, tasting you, letting you taste him. 

Your hands ran through his beautiful silk blond hair, the intoxicating scent of his spicy cologne engulfing you. 

Chan pulled apart, sucking in your bottom lip and gently biting it before he released, breaths heavy and eyes glassy as you both stared at each other.

His eyes searched for yours, something unreadable flickering across his face. “Back to your question,” he said, his fingers tightening just a bit on your waist before it went down to cup your clothed ass that made you jerk. 

"You asked if I ever thought about us being together," he murmured, voice low, teasing. "What do you think?"

You swallowed hard, your hands still tangled in his hair, fingertips pressing lightly against his scalp. "I—I don’t know," you admitted, suddenly shy. "You never really said anything, so I figured you just saw me as…nothing more than just a friend."

Chan scoffed, shaking his head in amusement. "You're an idiot, you know that?" His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you impossibly closer until your noses brushed. 

"Do you even realize how hard it’s been for me? To act normal around you? To pretend I don’t notice how fucking cute you are when you ramble about things you love?”

Your cheeks burned as your teeth dug the inside of your cheek.

"Or how many times I've to shut the guys’ mouths whenever you come over and they tease me for being so down bad for you?" he continued, eyes flickering down to your mouth.

"Drives me insane, baby."

Your stomach flipped at the pet name, at the sheer warmth in his gaze despite the teasing lilt in his voice. "You… you like me?" Your voice came out softer than intended, like you were still trying to process it.

He tilted his head, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before a dimpled grin painted his face. 

“More than just like you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of your jaw, then another, his breath fanning over your skin.

You felt like you were floating. The weight of every doubt, every second-guessing moment, melted away in his arms. "I…like you too," you admitted, barely above a whisper. "Maybe longer than you have.”

He arched a playful brow, pressing his tongue against the inside of his bottom lip. God, has that ever made your heart race this fast?

"Guess we were both idiots then, huh?"

You laughed softly, nodding. "Yeah."

Chan grinned, dimples appearing as he kissed the tip of your nose and pressed your forehead against his.

You both remained in each other's embrace as the minutes passed, yet your heart raced as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. Rapid and relentless, betraying the calmness of his hold.

Should you say it? Will he think something else of you?

It was as if Chan could read the thousand thoughts racing your mind, his lips brushed on your chin before he said, “Whatever you wanna ask me, you can ask." He said without hesitation. 

Your breath clogged in your throat before your gaze dropped to the floor. Chan tilted his head, studying you with those warm, knowing eyes. His fingers traced soothing patterns over your back, being patient as always. 

“What is it, baby?” he murmured, his voice coaxing.

You swallowed the weight of your own thoughts pressing against your ribs. It wasn’t that you were scared. It was just… nerve-wracking to finally say it out loud.

Your fingers curled around the fabric of his hoodie, gripping it like an anchor as you whispered, “I want… I want my first time to be with you.”

Chan stilled. His eyes widening slightly as his hands on your waist tensed for just a moment before his breath left him in a slow, measured exhale.

"You do?" His voice was careful, gentle. Not teasing. Not pushing. Just making sure he heard you right.

You nodded, still not quite brave enough to look at him. "I’ve been thinking about it for a while now… wanting you. But I didn’t know how to say it. I thought you’ll find me weird. Or stop wanting to be friends with me…"

Chan let out a quiet chuckle, tilting your chin up with his fingers so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Baby, you could’ve said anything, and I’d listen. I’d never make you feel like you had to hold this in. 

A shiver ran down your spine at the intensity as he spoke, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “You could never be weird to me. And nothing could ever make me stop wanting to be in your life.”

His words made your heart swell, a warmth blooming deep in your chest.

“You really mean that?” It was unusual for you to feel so exposed and vulnerable. It was unusual for Chan to be anything but a tease. It was this side of him you rarely got to see. 

Chan’s gaze softened, his arms tightening around you. “Of course I do.” He exhaled, his forehead pressing against yours again, eyes fluttering closed for a moment as if he was absorbing the weight of your confession. 

Then he spoke, voice low, sincere. “But I need you to be sure. I don’t want you to do this just because you think you should or because of me.”

You nodded again, firmer this time. 

"We’ve got time, okay? We don’t have to rush anything." He said gently, holding you tightly.

But you shook your head slightly, your fingers curling into his hoodie once more. "I don’t want to wait anymore," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "I’ve already waited too long to feel like this."

Chan’s eyes darkened slightly at your words, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your neck. "Are you sure?" he whispered one last time, his breath warm against your skin.

You nodded, your own breath catching in your throat. "I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

And with that Chan smoothly carried you, locking your feet around his torso, your arms wrapped around his neck as you kissed him again, he walked towards your room, kicking the floor shut behind him. 

He gently laid you down on the bed and got up, unlocking his lips from yours to look at you.

You were heavenly, so beautiful beneath him, Chan's heart was racing like a wild galloping stallion as he watched you. Your chest rose and fell as you raised your arms up, calling him to hold you, to kiss you more because you couldn't get over how his mouth felt on yours.

And to take you, to guide you on what's about to happen.

Chan held your hand and kissed your palm, holding it on his cheek. You felt the warmth of his smooth skin, his other hand intertwined with yours as he smiled, a deep dimple blooming on his cheek.

“You're mine sweetheart.” He leaned down and softly but commandingly growled in your ear that made goosebumps pebble your skin. 

“I've only wanted the best for you, to only see you smiling and happy, I didn't want to ruin us, that's why I didn't tell you how I felt.” He kissed the spot below your ear as he continued his confession that made you hitch a breath. 

“But now, I will never be able to let you go.”

The dominance coating his voice sent a shiver, anticipation and thrill down your spine, as if your body knew to whom it should respond to all along. Chan's lips brushed over the line of your jaw then made its way down your neck, his mouth deeply sunk into your skin that made a soft moan escape your throat. 

He left his mark on what's his. 

"Chan..." you breathed out his name, and the way you said it seemed to unravel him further. He groaned softly, his hands sliding around to the front of your shirt, pausing just at the hem, waiting for your permission.

You met his eyes, your breath coming in shallow gasps, and nodded. 

That was all he needed. You raised your arms, allowing him to slip your shirt off, the fabric falling to the floor without a second thought. The cool air hit your skin, but it was quickly replaced by the warmth of Chan’s hands as they roamed over your sides, up your waist, and around to your back. His touch was electrifying, every brush of his fingers setting your skin on fire. He couldn’t get enough of you.

"I want to make you feel good," he murmured, his voice raw with need. "Tell me if you want me to stop and I’ll stop anytime."

You shook your head, your fingers gripping the fabric of his hoodie. "Don’t stop," you whispered against his lips. "Please, don’t stop.”

Your hands found the hem of his hoodie, tugging it upwards. He pulled back just enough to allow you to lift it over his head, tossing it aside. His chest was bare now, and the sight of him, all toned muscles, chiseled abs and soft skin that made your breath catch in your throat.

Good God, this man was beyond breathtaking.

You ran your hands over his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms, and Chan’s eyes fluttered closed, a low groan escaping him as your fingers brushed against his skin. He let you explore his body as he did with yours, his hands moved to your hips, pulling you against him and unclasping your bra with ease.

You could feel the heat building between you, something wet and needy flooding between your legs, the raw intensity of it threatening to consume you. But with Chan, it didn’t feel rushed or overwhelming.

It felt right. Absolutely true.

Chan's hands trailed lower, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts, hesitating for just a moment before pulling them down, his eyes never leaving yours. He tugged it down along with your underwear, you laid exposed and bare under him.

Chan knew at the very instant that he was in heaven.

“Fuck…” he growled in a low voice as he took the time to memorise the sight beneath him. 

You were perfect, so fucking perfect and practically glowing for him that he wanted nothing but to give you everything he had in him. 

Every ounce of pleasure, every kiss, every breath.

"God, you’re beautiful baby," he whispered, his voice reverent as his lips moved down, his mouth closed over one of the hardened nipples, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak.

You gasped at the sensation, your fingers threading through his hair, your body arching into his touch. Every nerve ending was on fire, the warmth of his mouth sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. 

His mouth worked skillfully on your sweet, sensitive nipples, giving both equal amounts of attention, sucking on one as he rolled the other with his forefinger and thumb. Chan’s breath was hot against your body as his mouth moved lower, kissing a trail down your chest and stomach, leaving your skin tingling in his wake. 

You couldn't stop your sounds escaping your throat at every single touch. His fingers pressed into the soft flesh of your hips, holding you firmly in place as he made his way lower.

“Chan…” you whispered, your voice breathy, laced with desire.

He paused for a moment, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. The fire of his gaze made your heart skip a beat, a dark hunger brewing behind his warm brown eyes. 

He wanted you—he needed you—but he was in no hurry. This wasn’t about rushing, this was about you, about making sure you felt every single moment.

“I want to make you feel good. Tell me if it's too much," he murmured, his voice low and rough but filled with nothing but emotion and tenderness.

“Yes, I'm okay,” you said moaning softly, your breath catching in your throat as he slowly spread your legs wider, positioning himself between them. 

His gaze never wavered, his dark eyes filled with a kind of raw, unrestrained want that made your heart race even faster when his eyes were on your wet heat. Your pussy looked so beautiful and perfect for him, Chan’s heart raced equal anticipation as yours.

"I’ve got you," he whispered against your thigh, his voice soft but full of intensity. "I’ll take care of you, baby. I promise.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you could barely manage a response before his lips pressed on the soft rise of your pubic bone and finally reached your center. You gasped, your body jolting at the sudden surge of pleasure that shot through you. 

His tongue flicked against your clit in a slow, teasing rhythm, sending sparks of electricity through every nerve in your body. Your hips bucked involuntarily, a soft moan escaping your lips as his hands gripped your thighs tighter, holding you in place as he continued his slow, torturous assault.

Chan licked and flicked his tongue over your wet walls, spreading the slick folds gently with his tongue, giving himself more access to explore your heaven, which made his cock grow harder. 

You squirmed at every stroke of his tongue, sending you higher, moans filling the room as you lost yourself in the overwhelming sensation of it all.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him closer as your hips moved against his mouth, desperate for more. 

"Chan... please..." you gasped, your voice breathless, trembling. You didn’t even know what you were asking for—only that you needed more, that the pleasure was building so quickly, that you thought you might fall apart right there under the warmth of his mouth.

"You’re so fucking amazing baby," he murmured between strokes, his voice raw with love and lust. "So fucking sweet... I could do this all night.”

His words sent a fresh wave of heat crashing over you, and you moaned louder, your body trembling uncontrollably as he continued his relentless assault.

"Has anyone ever made you feel this way?" He sucked your tender clit like a man starving that got you to buck your hips up, grinding his face.

"Do you like my mouth eating this sweet pussy of yours?" Chan's fingers caressed your soft thighs before he nipped your skin. His words felt filthy—words you thought you'd never hear from him—but the way he said them made you tremble. 

The heat of his breath against your most sensitive part, combined with the skill of his mouth and tongue, had you completely at his mercy. He was relentless, alternating between gentle licks and hard, precise strokes, building you up to the point where you were almost sobbing with need.

"No... no one..." you finally managed to choke out, your voice barely audible between gasps. "Only you, Chan.”

"That’s right. No one’s ever going to make you feel this good," Chan growled, his voice low and husky with desire. He looked up at you briefly, his eyes dark and wild. 

“I want you to remember this. I want you to remember how good my mouth feels when you’re coming for me.”

His fingers, still gentle on your thighs, now slipped higher, tracing the wetness that coated your folds. The moment you felt his fingers teasing your entrance, your entire body tensed, pleasure building to a fever pitch.

"Chan... I can’t—" Your voice was breathless, ragged as you writhed beneath him,.

“Yes you can, baby. Don't be scared, I will make it good for you,” he whispered, pressing one finger inside you while his mouth worked you mercilessly. 

He slid it in slowly inch by inch, being careful not to hurt you but you were so wet and aroused, you could only feel the pleasure he was giving you.

His finger moved inside you with just the right amount of pressure, the combination of his mouth sent you to the edge as you arched your back for him, your hands grabbing the sheets till your knuckles turned white. 

He gently added another and when they curled inside you, finding that sweet perfect spot, it made stars burst behind your eyes.

Your hips bucked uncontrollably as the tingles that built up hit you hard and fast, you cried out his name, your orgasm tearing through you like a storm. The pressure of it was almost too much, and you shuddered beneath him, gasping for air as your body convulsed with wave after wave of pleasure.

"That’s it," Chan growled, his mouth still working you through your high as his fingers moved inside you, drawing out every last bit of it. "Such a good girl...”

When you finally came down from the high, your body still trembling, Chan lifted his head, his dark eyes filled with a kind of raw satisfaction as he watched you, withdrawing his digits, his lips glistening with your release.

"You’re fucking incredible," he murmured, his voice low and rough as he mapped his way back up your body, his hands roaming all over you. "You did so good for me baby."

You were still catching your breath, your heart racing as you looked up at him, your eyes filled with a kind of awe at the way he had just unraveled you completely.

You pulled him, whispering his name until his body was pressed against yours. You could feel the hardness of his cock against your thigh, and the realization of what was about to happen sent another wave of heat rushing through you.

Chan cradled your face so gently, like you were something very fragile, he smiled and let out a soft, shaky breath, his forehead resting against yours for a moment as he closed his eyes, trying to steady himself. 

"I’ll go slow," he whispered, his voice low as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. "Tell me if it hurts, okay?”

You swallowed hard and watched him as he pulled back to discard his shorts and boxers and you finally saw what was confined behind those pieces of fabric.

Could he fit inside you?

Your mind raced as your eyes never left the sight of his cock. Long and proudly hard, the soft tip leaking pre cum, you felt your heart pound in your throat.

Chan chuckled deeply, the sound making you tear your eyes off him and look at his face. Your face flushed instantly and he leaned down, placing his hands on the pillow on either side of your head.

“Ready?” His eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation. Despite the fire burning between you, he was still so gentle, so careful with you, and it made your heart ache with how much he cared.

You nodded, your hand reaching up to cup his face. “Yeah, I'm ready for you.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. Chan kissed you deeply, his lips soft but demanding as he pressed his body against yours, his hands sliding down to grip your waist. 

He pulled back and positioned himself at your entrance, stroking his cock over the wetness of your pussy that made adrenaline rush like a wildlife over you both, and with a sharp inhale, he slowly began to push inside.

The stretch was intense, but not painful. More like a slow, sweet burn that had you gasping, your nails digging into his shoulders as he filled you inch by inch. 

Your breath caught in your throat as your body accommodated to the fullness, the sensation of him inside you unlike anything you had ever felt before. It was overwhelming, but in the best possible way. 

Chan groaned, his breath hot as he buried his face against your neck, pushing himself completely inside you, his body trembling with the effort to hold himself back.

“So fucking tight…” he growled through gritted teeth, his voice rough with need as he paused, giving you time to adjust to his size. 

When you finally nodded, giving him the go-ahead to move, Chan let out a shaky breath and began to thrust, slow and gentle at first, his hips moving in a steady rhythm that had you moaning beneath him. 

"You feel so good fuck," he groaned again, his hips picking up speed as he buried his face in your neck, his breath ragged against your skin. "I can’t get enough of you.”

Both of you were lost in the sensation of it all, the feel of him moving inside you, the way his body pressed against yours, the way his hands gripped your hips like he never wanted to let you go. 

Now you realized what the internet meant that sex with the right person is the best thing you'll ever experience. 

This is what making love feels like. Perfect, sweet and mind-blowingly intoxicating.

Every movement of him sent a fresh wave of pleasure through your body, the friction between you driving you both closer to the edge. You held onto him tighter, almost wanting to mold into him, who whispered the most soothing and filthy words into your ear.

“Y’know for how long,”—thrust—“I've been wanting this baby?”  He growled, his voice rumbling in his chest. “To fuck your pussy,”—thrust—“to feel how tight it'll be f’me?”

Your head fell back against the pillows as he tore moan after moan from your throat, the noises of you both bouncing off the walls of the room. His movements sped up, grunting lowly, more desperate as he chased his release.

His hand splayed over your tummy, before it slid down to stroke your sensitive clit and that was enough to make the balls of tingles in the base of your spine build faster, making you reach the depth of your high.

“Chan, I…I'm close,” you gasped, your voice barely audible as your fingers dug into his back, holding him closer.

“Me too, baby,” he groaned, his pace quickening, his thrusts growing harder, hitting your sweet spots over and over again. “But I'm not gonna,” his voice went deep, “I'm not gonna come inside you.”

Your eyes widened, mouth falling open as you tried to catch a breath and threaded your fingers through his damp hair. 

“Please come,” you breathed that made Chan slow his pace just a bit, his brows knitting together. “Please come in me.”

“Baby,” His fingers brushed over your flushed cheeks and you clenched around him that made him hiss and grit his teeth.

“I want it, Chris. Please,” you whimpered and that drove him feral when you called him Chris. 

His hips slammed into yours harder and deeper, his restraints snapping, that made your breasts bounce back and forth before he hit that spot that made you shatter along with him.

His cum spilled in you just as your orgasm crashed over you, the intimacy of you both coming together for the first time during your first time sent you to the ends of ecstasy. 

Chan collapsed over you, but was careful to not crush you beneath his huge body and pulled out of you when the continuous twitching of his cock slowed. You could feel the spilled warmth of his cum seeping out of your hole with every breath you took, your gaze never leaving his. 

The post sex bliss began setting when Chan rolled over and fell next to you on the bed, pulling you flush against his chest. 

You sank into his sweat slicked body, letting the scent of him engulf your senses as you draped an arm and leg over his body.

Your eyes fluttered close before you opened it again to gaze up at him, your thumb tracing the line of his sharp jaw. 

“Channie…” you whispered, and he looked at you with a content smile you've never seen on him before.

“Hmm?” He hummed, his hand lightly squeezing your waist. 

“Does this make you my boyfriend now?” 

Feelings were confessed, through words and intimacy, but in the quiet aftermath, with nothing but the sound of your steady breaths filling the space, the weight of what happened in the past hours all truly settled in.

It wasn’t just the heat of the moment anymore. It wasn’t just something left unspoken between shared glances and playful teasing. 

It was real, undeniable in the way your bodies remained tangled together, in the way your hearts beat in sync, in the way neither of you could bring yourselves to let go.

Chan let out a quiet chuckle, dipping his head so his nose brushed against yours. "I think I’ve been yours for a long time now. Didn't I say it as well?" he murmured.

You're mine sweetheart.

You had always known Chan was special to you, but hearing it, having him confirm what your heart had suspected all along, made your throat tighten with unspoken emotions.

"So… officially my boyfriend now?" You teased, though your voice wavered slightly, betraying the weight of the question.

Chan tilted his head, studying you with a fond smile before pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. "Yeah, baby. I'm officially yours.” 

A small laugh escaped you as you nuzzled closer, your fingers tracing absentminded patterns over his bare chest.

His arms tightened around you, a gentle squeeze that sent shivers down your spine. "I just… I wanna do this right," he spoke, breaking the silence, voice hushed yet resolute. 

“I meant what I said earlier. I don’t want this to be just a moment because you thought you should do it or because it's me. I want you, in every way, I always did. And not just tonight, not just in this bed, but every damn day after.”

Your breath hitched as you stared up at him, your heart drumming wildly against your ribs. It wasn’t just the weight of his words, it was the way he looked at you, as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

"You've always made me feel safe and loved Channie," you whispered, fingers curling into his as you laced them together. 

“You were my best friend and now you already are becoming the best boyfriend.”

His eyes softened, filled with something deeper than fondness, fingers tightening around yours as he pulled you even closer.

“I’m gonna spend every day proving that to you,” he murmured, his lips brushing the top of your head. “You deserve nothing less.”

It had always been Chan. Your best friend, your safe place, your anchor in the storm. And now, he was your person in a way you had never dared to imagine before tonight.

“I love you, Channie.” The words left you before you could second-guess them, before fear could creep in and make you hesitate. They weren’t new, not really. You had loved him for so long in so many other ways, but this time, it was different.

Chan’s lips parted, his eyes widening slightly before the softest, most radiant smile stretched across his face. His hand came up, fingertips ghosting along your cheek, memorizing the moment. 

“Say it again,” he whispered.

You let out a quiet laugh, warmth pooling in your chest. “I love you.”

His breath left him in a shaky exhale before he surged forward, capturing your lips in a kiss so full of devotion. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead on yours.

“I love you too.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Enjoyed this one shot? Consider checking my masterlist for more. Requests? Check 𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 (& 𝚁𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜)

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght @de-uns-tempos-pra-ca @greyyeti

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment <3 (If I missed someone please lmk)

Thank you for reading!

xx,

Ivyy

[burrowswomen]

❥ JUNO ━━━━━ JOE BURROW

: ̗̀➛ word count: 1.9k

: ̗̀➛ warnings: nothing really? I think

: ̗̀➛ noor speaks: this is my first time writing for Tumblr, so please give me any feedback! theirs so many talented writers on here, so I fear my Wattpad-level writing does not even begin to compare. but this is an idea that I basically think about a lot. I've had this in my drafts since December but since miss carpenter FINALLY released short n sweet deluxe, figured might as well finish it.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

The night was electric.

Fans filled the sold-out paycor stadium, their glow sticks lighting up the space like a galaxy of pink and gold. The air was thick with excitement, the lingering hum of thousands of voices buzzing even after Y/N had just finished performing one of her biggest songs. The final notes of the track faded into the background as she took a moment to catch her breath, her chest rising and falling beneath the soft glow of the stage lights.

Then—she froze.

A shift in the atmosphere. A sudden, dramatic pause.

The audience sensed something coming.

Y/N took a slow step forward, pressing her mic to her lips, her expression unreadable. Her eyes scanned the massive crowd, searching, thinking, as if she had just realized something of grave importance.

Then, she whispered into the mic.

“Wait.”

The crowd’s cheers faltered slightly, their energy now laced with curiosity.

“Wait, wait, wait…”

Y/N held up a hand, signaling them to quiet down. Her gaze narrowed, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. The anticipation built as the massive screens around the venue zoomed in on her face. Then, as if she had just made the discovery of a lifetime, she let out a dramatic gasp, clutching her chest like she was shook to her core.

“Oh my God.”

The entire arena erupted.

The screams were deafening. Fans immediately started scanning the crowd, clutching at their friends, already knowing what was about to happen. Some pointed randomly, hoping it was them she was looking at. 

Y/N took another step forward, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Guys…" she whispered, as if in awe. "I think I just found my future husband."

The crowd lost their minds.

The screams doubled, fans started jumping, their voices rising to ear-splitting levels. Even her own dancers on stage turned their heads, their eyes wide with fake shock.

Y/N turned to them, placing a hand over her mic. "Girls, girls, come here."

Two of her dancers strutted over, their hips swaying dramatically like they were part of an elite investigative team.

Y/N bit her lip, looking back into the audience, then pointed. “There.”

The spotlight moved—sweeping over the crowd before stopping at a single figure standing near the barricade.

And that’s when the entire stadium imploded.

joe burrow

The camera zoomed in just as he looked up, his face suddenly plastered across the massive screens.

Baseball cap. Casual hoodie. Hands in his pockets. His head tilted slightly as he blinked, his face betraying just the slightest amount of shock.

Y/N smirked.

She shifted her weight, placing a hand on her hip. “Hey there.”

Joe hesitated, raising an eyebrow before pointing at himself, mouthing me?

Y/N nodded, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Yes, you."

She sighed dramatically, shaking her head. "I really, really hate to do this, but…" She placed a delicate hand over her heart, pretending to look deeply troubled.

“…you’re under arrest.”

The arena lost it.

Fans screamed. Some straight-up collapsed. Others gripped their heads, as if they had just witnessed the greates pop culture moment in history.

Joe raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching as he tried so hard not to smile.

"Really?"

Y/N nodded, dead serious. "Mhm. You are simply too attractive to be standing there so casually. It’s a danger to public safety. A crime, actually."

The crowd erupted again,

Joe let out a small laugh, shaking his head. "That so?"

Y/N nodded dramatically. "Yeah. And to be completely honest…" She reached up, pretending to fan herself. "I’m actually starting to feel a little hot myself."

And just then—one of her dancers, standing strategically next her, let go of her floor-length skirt, letting it drop to the ground.

Revealing her mini pink sparkly skirt underneath.

The stadium exploded.

Y/N casually stepped out of the fabric pile at her feet, flipping her hair before turning back to Joe like nothing happened.

"But uhm…" She tilted her head. "What’s your name, sir?"

Joe grinned, stepping closer to the barricade. "Joe!"

Y/N cupped her ear. "Hmm?"

Joe, laughing now, shouted louder. "Joe!"

Y/N squinted, pretending to struggle. "I still can’t hear you…" She sighed, shaking her head. "I’m afraid I’m just going to have to call you…" She smirked.

"My husband."

The screaming from the crowd was unreal.

Joe tilted his head back, laughing as the camera zoomed in on his blush.

Meanwhile, Y/N had fully turned away from the mic, covering her mouth with both hands, shoulders shaking with laughter. But even as she tried to compose herself, the deep pink flush across her cheeks was giving her away completely.

The entire stadium was in ruins.

She cleared her throat, biting back a smile as she casually walked over to the edge of the stage.

A pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs appeared in her hand.

She twirled them between her fingers for a moment before passing them to her security guard.

The crowd screamed even louder as the guard took them, walked over to Joe, and handed them straight to him.

Joe took them, turning them over in his hands with a smirk, before glancing back up at Y/N.

Y/N, flushed and grinning, gave a small, cheeky wave before flipping her hair and sauntering back to the middle of the stage.

"Alright, now that justice has been served…" She fixed her hair, voice slightly breathless from laughing. "Let’s get back to the music, shall we?"And just like that, the beat for juno dropped, the lights shifted, and she launched into the next song—leaving the entire stadium absolutely wrecked.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

The buzz of the crowd’s cheers had finally begun to fade, the lights dimming as Y/N sat in the cozy confines of her trailer. The night had been absolutely electrifying—the adrenaline from performing still coursing through her veins. Her mind, however, was racing in a different direction. The last few moments on stage, arresting Joe, calling him her future husband—it all felt like a whirlwind. But the excitement hadn’t quite settled yet.

She stepped toward the mirror, her eyes going over herself, internally reflecting on everything, she found herself wondering what came next. The door to her trailer was locked, her safe space away from the chaos outside.

Suddenly, a knock at the door snapped her out of her thoughts.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t been expecting anyone. She hurried to open the door, her breath catching in her throat.

Joe Burrow

her boyfriend

Before she could say a word, he pulled her into his arms, wrapping her up in a warm, familiar embrace. His hands cupped the back of her head, pulling her closer, and she let out a soft sigh against his chest.

“You did wonderful, baby,” Joe whispered into her hair, his voice low and tender.

Y/N smiled, feeling the tension in her body release from the comfort of his arms. "Thank you, Joey," she murmured, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “And thank you for agreeing to let me arrest you. I know it was out of your comfort zone.”

Joe chuckled softly, his hands slipping to her waist as he gazed down at her. “You kidding? I would do anything for you.”

Her heart fluttered, the sweet sincerity in his words making her feel like the luckiest person alive. She couldn’t help but smile, feeling warmth spread through her chest at the thought of him being so supportive. The way he looked at her—it was like nothing else mattered, like they were the only two people in the world.

He leaned in slowly, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, gentle kiss. It was as if he was savoring the moment, drawing her in with each tender motion. Y/N melted into him, her hands resting on his chest as the kiss deepened.

But soon, the kiss grew more urgent, the need between them building in a way that was undeniable. Y/N could feel the intensity rising, the pull of desire swirling around them. Joe’s hands slid down her back, pulling her closer, but she could sense the urgency in the kiss, the way it was becoming more than just a simple expression of love.

Not here. Not now.

Y/N broke away from the kiss, breathless. “Joey…” she mumbled against his lips, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. She felt his body tense against hers, but he didn’t pull away. instead, moving forward until they were both now sitting on the couch in the trailer.

“Hmmm?” he hummed, his hands still resting on her lower back as he nuzzled her neck, his breath warm against her skin.

“We can’t,” she said softly, her voice shaking slightly. She wanted him, more than anything, but the reality of the situation hit her—anyone could walk in at any moment. They were in her trailer, the door just a few feet away from where they stood. The risk was too great.

Joe groaned in frustration but didn’t let go. “Baby, you look so…” His words trailed off as he rubbed her lower back gently, his fingers pressing into the soft fabric of her top. “So damn beautiful.”

Y/N smiled despite herself, her heart fluttering at the way he looked at her. She could feel the heat rising between them again, the magnetic pull she had always felt with Joe. She wanted nothing more than to give in to it, to let the world fall away and just be with him.

But she knew they couldn't. it's too risky.

“Joey…” She bit her lip, trying to resist the temptation to kiss him again. “We have to wait until we get home.”

Joe pouted, a look of pure disappointment crossing his features. He dropped his hands from her waist, staring at her with those puppy-dog eyes that always made her question everything.

Y/N couldn’t help herself. She laughed, her fingers finding his jaw again as she pulled him closer. “Oh, come on, baby,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “You’re such a tease.”

Joe’s pout turned into a smile as she kissed him back, this time slower, more deliberate. Y/N melted into him, her hands trailing up to his hair as the kiss deepened once again.

But before things could escalate further, she pulled away, breathless. “We really have to wait,” she said, giving him a playful push.

Joe let out a resigned sigh, but he couldn’t hide the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re killing me here,” he muttered, but his tone was warm, filled with love and affection.

“I know, but…” Y/N looked at him seriously for a moment. “It’s good to wait, builds up the tension Joey.”

Joe grinned, his arms slipping around her once more. “oh, I've heard.” he whispered, his voice laced with affection.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh softly as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer. “Good,” she said with a smile.

As they sat there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside the trailer seemed so far away. The chaos of the concert, the fans screaming her name, it all felt distant. In this moment, it was just her and Joe, lost in the quiet connection they shared.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Let’s just say—you didn’t move the entire next day.

You were sore in places you didn’t even know existed, your body still aching from the night before. And honestly? you didn’t care. The memory of last night played on a loop in your mind as you stayed wrapped in the warmth of the sheets, Joe’s peaceful snores filling the room.

[cxrsed-angel]

Knuckle Deep in the Backseat (Joel Miller x Fem! reader smut)

rating: 18+

word count: 3k

summary: Joel convinced you to learn how to drive and offers to teach you, but ends up in the back seat with you.

warning: Smut, age gap (Joel is in his 50s, reader is in 20s). Fingering, dirty talk, Daddy kink, pet names, car sex, established relationship.

A/N: Title is inspired but causal by Chappell Roan but the fic has nothing to do with the song. This actually was in my draft since last year and was "finished" but it needed work lol.

The sun is barely up bit its still too bright, and the birds are chirping too loudly. You can feel the crisp fall air as you stand outside. You hated being up this early. You don’t even remember how Joel got you to wake up this early. Joel knew you weren't a morning person, but he had convinced you with shitty coffee to practice driving after finding a couple of gas cans. Said it might come in handy, and he doesn’t want you to be unprepared. The thought was sweet, but waking you up at 7:00 a.m. wasn’t. You figured it would be later in the day like 12pm not the ass crack of dawn. You followed him to the truck, your eyebrows frowning due to how early it was. 

“Good morning, baby. ‘You ready to drive? I woke you up ages ago. What took you so long?” 

Joel greets you with a big smile. He's leaning against the old truck, way more energetic than you are. Over the years, he’s gotten used to waking up early, which you didn’t understand. You hated how chipper he was in the morning; you couldn’t relate. You’d be lucky if you rolled out of bed before noon. 

You walk up to him, flipping him off before taking the coffee from his hand. He laughs and watches as you take a sip of coffee. You walk to the driver's side of the car, and he follows behind you. You watch as he opens the door and starts hot-wiring the car to start it. 

You see him standing next to an old four-door black truck, holding the coffee he had promised, smiling. “You know I used to have a truck like this; it was black—” You nod, staring at him, not really listening to him go on about his old pre end of the world truck he used to own. You're still trying to wake up, zoning out a bit. You stare at him briefly, and he realizes that you haven't been listening. 

He stops rambling about the mileage he had on his old truck and the deal he got on it. “You ever drove one of these before?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer. You give him a deadpanned stare, narrowing your eyes, 

“And when would I have driven one of these, Joel? Considering most cars stopped working about 20 years ago.” You knew you were being cranky, but you didn’t appreciate being up before noon if your life wasn’t depending on it.

He looks up from hot wiring, mumbling under his breath, “fucking smart ass” You roll you’re eyes and watch as he continues messing with wires until you hear the car turns on; you stare at him as he walks around.

 His ass looks particularly good in his jeans as he walks around the truck to get into the passenger seat. Normally, you would try to make your staring more subtly, but it was hard since you’re barely awake; he just looked so good. The greying hair, his pretty brown eyes, the wrinkles around his forehead from frowning for the last 20 years, the cuts around his face, his muscles peeking through his shirt sleeves. You’re broken out of your trance when you hear his deep Texas voice that had lured you out here in the first place. 

“Are you gonna stand there and check me out all day, or are you gonna get your ass in the car.” 

You stop daydreaming, his words snapping you out of your semi-dirty thoughts. You walk to the car and get into the driver’s seat. You’re sitting in the driver's seat as he asks, “Ok, so tell me what you remember.” 

“Well, not much, considering the last time I was in a car that worked, I was a toddler,” You answer again sarcastically, rolling your eyes, still cranky and grumpy. 

Joel turns his head to look at you, narrowing his eyes at your snark. He knows it usually takes a good 30 minutes or so for you to be yourself when he woke you up early, but today, you seemed extra grumpy. 

The first time Joel woke you up early in the morning, you gave him short responses or cursed him out every other sentence all morning. It was earlier on when he met you. Joel thought you were pissed at him or that he did something, so he responded back with short responses and attitude, which led to a lot of tension the rest of the day. But after a couple of weeks of early morning runs, he saw that that was just how you are, and he eventually got used to it. He also realized that if he gave you coffee and was patient, you’d eventually wake up faster. Still, it didn't work every time, and it seemed like this was one of those mornings where you were extra cranky and a pain in the ass. 

You take another sip of his coffee and sigh, realizing you were being too bitchy; you hand the coffee back to him. “I’m sorry. That was a bit much. I’ll tone it down. Promise.” 

He looks at you as he puts the coffee in the cup holder, unsure if he believes you. He replies dry and sarcastically. “I'm sure you will.” He starts talking about something, but honestly, you weren’t listening, too lost in those brown eyes of his to focus on what he was saying again.

 You see him motion to the thing with numbers above the steering. You know it's probably important, but you're far more interested in how good his hands look as he gestures to the different parts of the car. Fuck why did he have to be so hot? 

“So, um, 20 years ago, you would’ve had to take a test and worry about a lot of different rules of the road and deal with people riding your ass, tailgating, and a lot of other shit, but um, now I guess the important thing is just getting somewhere as fast as possible isn't it? You’d probably not gonna drive often, but it's good to know.”

You nod, paying attention to his words now instead of all the dirty things you want him to do to you, trying to focus on getting ready to drive. 

“Alright, you feel those two pedals down there. The one on the left is the brake, and the one on the right is the gas; you only want to use one foot while driving; you can really mess up the car if you press both at the same time. See these here are your shifts to D for drive, P for park, R for reverse.” He pauses, thinking about anything he might’ve missed, but he remembers you weren’t gonna be driving like he used to, “Thats all you really need to know.” 

You watch as he explains everything to you. He tells you to put it into drive, and the car starts moving forward slightly. You shakily put your hands on the wheel, gripping it tightly, and press down the gas pedal, nervously chewing on your lip. He guides you through an old road that wasn’t too overgrown or hard to navigate. After a few minutes, you feel like you're starting to get the hang of it. You feel Joel place his hand on your thigh, resting it there. You look over at him slightly, wondering if you have messed up or done something wrong. Still, he says nothing about letting you drive, resting his hand on your thigh, and occasionally squeezing it. 

“Am I doing okay?” you ask quietly as his hand continues to rest on your thigh, slowly rubbing further up your thighs.  You feel his hand creep up higher and the air in the truck getting hotter as his hand makes you feel warm. You lose focus on what you are doing and feel the car drifting off the road as his hand reaches further up your shorts. You feel the arousal building in your core. 

“Doin' great baby, just try to keep the wheel straight; you're drifting sideways a little.” He leans over you, grabbing the wheel to make it straight before letting you take over again, “Atta girl, see, you're doing perfectly.” 

His hand lightly squeezes your thigh reassuringly. You swallow hard, trying not to let his actions and deep voice affect you, trying to focus your attention back on the road. But that went out the window once you felt his hand rub the place you needed him most through your pants. 

“Joel,” you whisper his name. It comes out more of a moan than you intended; he leans over the gear shift, kissing your neck and sucking on your skin. You close your eyes, feeling your body getting hotter and your heart beating faster. You had forgotten you were supposed to control a vehicle until he moved his lips off your neck. 

“Focus on the road, baby; after all the shit I’ve been through, I don't wanna die because you drove us into a damn tree.” 

You open your eyes, listening to him, and focus back on driving. At least you try to, but you fail once his fingers start unbuttoning your jeans. His hands go down your pants and slowly caress against your pussy over your panties. You feel your face heat up, getting wetter, more turned on by his fingers teasing you. 

You don’t know how you’d manage to drive this much without crashing the truck, but you lose what little self-control you have left when Joel moves your panties to the side. Your foot moves off the gas pedal, the car stops, and you can't take it anymore. You close your eyes, feeling yourself get wetter. 

“Joel! I can't–ah– I need you please, please, please, I need you,” you beg and whine to him, wanting him to do more, but all you hear is his deep voice laugh at you as he removes his hand from your pants. 

“All of a sudden, you have manners, and bein’ polite.” he mocks you as he moves back into his seat, watching you get a bit mad.. “What happened to all that attitude and snark you gave me 10 minutes ago.” He continues as you look at him, your face flush and hot. No way you continue with this driving lesson after feeling his fingers against your core. 

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry I won't be a pain in the ass anymore.” You try to apologize, hoping he’ll accept it and put his hand back. You look at him with soft eyes, practically beginning him to fuck you. 

He looks at you for a few minutes before shaking his head and giving you a smirk, not being easily won over by your apologies or the 180 in your attitude.

“What?. You think a few sorrys gonna have me forget how much attitude you gave me for no reason?” You frown as he continues, “No, sweetheart, you’ve been an extra wiseass this morning, and I don't think you deserve it.” 

You shake your head to apologize again, hoping to convince. “Joel… Please, I said I was sorry. You know I’m not a morning person, and I never mean it.” He doesn't say anything as he looks at you. You can tell he’s debating whether to drive back to Jackson or go to the back of the truck. “Alright, fine baby, get in the back. But I ain't letting you get that easy,” he grunts in a deep Texas voice. You smile, glad he had given in. 

You unbuckle your seat belt and crawl into the truck's back seat. You're about to leave the car, but Joel places a hand on your shoulder, stopping you. 

 “You gotta put it into park, darling, or we’ll go rolling into a tree.” He gently reminds you as he opens the passenger door. 

You glance at the gear shift, remembering you were supposed to be a driving lesson that had taken a turn.

 “Oh, right.” You sit back in the driver's seat, putting the gearshift into P. You couldn't turn the car off since it was hot-wired, so you watch as Joel reaches over and pulls another small lever thing up, not exactly sure what it is for. 

“The emergency brake. Just to be safe.” 

 After parking the car and making sure the car wasn't going to roll backward, You hop over the console and crawl into the back seat, waiting for him to join you. You watch as Joel gets out of the passenger seat, closing the door behind him. Your eyebrow frowns slightly, confused as to why he was not hoping into the backseat with you. “Aren't you- where are you going?”  Your frown confused why he wasn't hopping over the seat like you. He smiles at you before closing the passenger door; he opens the back seat door, closing it behind him, and climbs in, sitting in the middle seat, getting into the backseat,

 “I ain't as young, and with my bad back and knees. There's no way I’m hopping over the console and crawling into the goddamn back seat like that. My knees are already bad enough.” 

You smile as he sits next to you, forgetting about your age difference, “Guess thats the con of dating an old man, huh.” You joke as he grabs your hips, gently pushes you down on the back seat, and unbuttons your jeans, hovering over you as you lay on your back. 

“Yea, but who's getting in the back seat with said old man and begging this old man to fuck you.” 

You laugh for a bit at his very valid reply. You feel him pull your jeans down and your underwear all at once. You sit with him as he tosses your clothes to the backseat floor. He moves a bit to sit on the seats, pulling you next to him, and his rough hands grab your hips. You feel him rub up your thigh with one and place his index and middle finger on the other hand against your lips. You open your mouth, sucking on them, gazing up at Joel. 

Joel lets out a groan under his breath as he looks at you, “Fuck sweetheart, look so pretty sucking on my fingers.” His praise gets you wetter as he takes his finger out of your mouth and slowly pushes them inside you. He starts off slow but gradually increases his speed as his fingers curl inside you, hitting that spot deep in you. You shudder under his touch, grinding against his fingers. 

“Fuck baby, you’re soaking my fingers.” he drawls out as he continues fucking you with his fingers. You whimper at his words, hearing the sounds of your wetness as his finger fuck deeper into you. You grab onto his bicep to steady yourself, clenching around his fingers as you get closer to your release. Your moans grow louder as you feel his fingers rub against your clit.

“Yes! Yes! Daddy, I’m so close!” You feel the pressure building, your breath gets shakier, and your moans get louder, filling the old truck, until you feel his hand cover your mouth, muffling you’re growing moans. He leans over, hovering over you more, his fingers stopping inside you.

“You need to shut the hell up before you attract a whole hoard of clickers.” His stern tone still turns you on more, his eyes staring into yours intensely. Making sure you understand him, you give him a nod with glossy eyes staring back at him. 

He slowly started moving his finger again, curling up as he reached the spot each time he slid his finger inside you. Your eyes roll back as you move your hips against his fingers. You felt his hand come out of your mouth, and you bit your lip, trying to surprise your moans. You feel you’re self getting closer, your brain getting fuzzy as his fingers move faster.  

“Is this what I have to do every morning, gotta make you cum on my fingers, then you’ll be nice?” He taunts you as you continue moaning. Your lips desperately clash with Joel’s messily making out with him. Joel’s other hand spreads your thighs further as he continues to finger fucking you. 

You nod absentmindedly, leaning your head against his neck as he continues fucking you with his fingers; his thumb rubs your clit and brings you over the edge. Joel knew, too. He knew your body like the back of your hand, even outside of sex. He always knew when you were scared when you were pissed. 

“You’re close, huh I can tell. You wanna cum, sweetheart? You’re gonna cum on daddy’s finger?” He asks softly as he sits beside you, fingers moving deeper inside your dripping cunt. 

You immediately nod, “Yes, daddy, please, please. I’m so close.” Your release slows as his fingers pull out of you. You feel your orgasm fading and your eyes open, looking at him disappointed, watching as he puts his two fingers in his mouth, tasting your wetness. He gives you a slight smirk as she shakes his head. 

“I don’t know. I’m not sure you deserve it, after how you were this morning, all those smart-ass remarks after you asked me to teach you to drive.” He slowly traces his finger over your clit, teasing you as you whine against him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll be nice!” you apologize frantically, hoping he’ll move his fingers again. Joel smiles before he slips his finger inside your aching pussy accepting your apology, and moves his finger again, the arousal building again. Your moan grows louder as his fingers bring you to your release. He brings his lips to your mouth, sloppily kissing you to quiet your moans. You moan against his lips. 

“As pretty as those moans are, you really gotta keep it down, sweetheart. Once we get back to Jackson, you can be as loud as you want. Okay?” 

You nod, knowing he’s right. You really don't wanna lure a group of infected or clickers with your moans. In this situation, you’d rather not die mid-sex from clickers. you close your eyes, feeling his fingers move faster. He brings his other hand onto your clit, rubbing it slowly.

“I know, I know but-fuck baby, I’m close, I'm so close.” The sounds of your moans and your wetness from your entrance fill the rundown truck as you get closer to your release. 

“Come on baby, atta girl, soak my finger, baby.” He coaxes, his voice guiding you through your orgasm. eye closing as you dissolve into pleasure. you gasp before moaning his name repeatedly. “Joel Joel Joel fuck daddy!” His hand comes over your mouth again to keep your moans quiet. You feel your stomach twist, your wet pussy clenches as you feel your climax. you move, laying your head on his shoulder as his fingers help you ride out your orgasm. 

You feel him remove his fingers from you. you breathe heavily, coming down from your high. Just you open your eyes; Joel puts his dripping fingers in his mouth. You watch desperately as he moans at your taste. He smiles, laughing slightly at how you look at him still recovering but, obviously still wanting him. He leans forward, planting a kiss on your forehead, and looks at you.  

“You better?” you nod silently. “You awake?” you nod again, feeling a bit weaker between your legs than before you had entered the truck. Joel laughs, gently giving you a soft kiss on your lips. “Good, now get back in the driver’s seat and take us home so I can fuck you. ” 

You nod, getting up and hopping back into the front seat. You look back at Joel, watching him get into the passenger seat. He starts the car again, and you start speeding back to Jackson. 

“You know, maybe you should give me an orgasm in the morning every day to wake me up.” you smile, making a joke but also being serious. 

Joel shakes his head at your words, laughing a bit. His hand comes back to your thigh, rubbing it. “Just focus on driving the damn truck first.” 

[luvnoirs]

WICKED GAMES

paring: paige x black fem!reader synopsis: after being drafted number one pick, paige is under pressure to prove herself and save a failing relationship. then, she sees you. warning(s): fingering (r!receiving), spit play, cunnilingus (r!receiving) and (p!receiving), face riding, overstimulation, squirting word count: 4.4k

a/n: i started writing this after i watched sinners if you couldn’t tell

PART ONE | PART TWO

paige didn't touch you again for the rest of the ride. it felt like she was actually trying to drive you insane.

your thighs were still squeezed together when she pulled into a private garage that was tucked underneath a high-rise apartment. she rolled her window down to tap a key fob against a sensor, and smoothly driving through once the gate opened for her. she parked near the elevator and turned off the engine.

she seemed calm. patient.

like she didn't just have you on the brink of an orgasm with just two fingers.

your head was spinning as you thought back to just exactly how you ended up in this situation tonight. when you first found her looking at you like you were the only woman in the room, to her following you to the bar and undressing you with just her eyes alone. you blinked, watching as she got out and circled around to your door, opening it.

everything was quiet, surprisingly. just your heels echoing sharply against the pavement as you stepped out and followed behind the blonde to the elevator. it wasn't until you stepped inside that it hit you. it was the first time tonight that you guys were truly alone. no other people. no music. no crowd.

just you and her.

she leaned against the elevator wall on the opposite side as it ascended. your eyes dragged over her slowly, her lips, the chain that decorated her neck, her tight crop top that exposed her abs, her veiny hands that were clasped together in front of her.

you wondered how her lips would feel—pressed to yours, dragging down your neck, buried between your thighs. how that cold gold chain would feel pressed against your cheek, against your chest. how her abs would tense beneath your tongue. how three of her fingers would feel inside of you instead of two.

you looked back up to find her watching you.

she wasn't smiling. didn't have that stupid smirk on her face. it was like you were back in the club with her in the next section over, yet this time the tension was stronger.

you wanted her. badly.

you took a step towards her, and another. you didn't stop until you were inches away, close enough to wrap your arms around her neck.

she let out a breath. "once these doors open, ain't no going back."

"shut up and kiss me."

the elevator door dinged.

her hand gripped your jaw, much firmer this time, and pulled your mouth to hers like it was magnetic.

nothing was gentle.

your lips crashed against hers in a messy kiss. she pressed into you, hips flush, hands instantly dragging down your sides like she couldn’t figure out what part of you she wanted to grab first.

your head was spinning. you barely registered anything, only that she was already walking you backwards, still kissing you like she was starving. her grip stayed tight, one hand wrapped around your waist, the other grabbing a fistful of your ass as she walked you out of the elevator like she owned your body now.

you stumbled, nearly losing your balance on your heels, but her grip on you didn’t loosen.

“i got you,” she mumbled against your lips, her teeth dragging your bottom lip before biting down, hard enough to make you shiver.

you weren’t even sure where you were anymore— somewhere between the entrance and losing your mind— but your back hit a cold wall, your hands clinging around paige’s neck like she was the only thing keeping you upright.

all you could do was moan breathlessly against her lips. the same hot ache from the car crept back up in the pit of your stomach, but worse now. ten times as needy.

her tongue slipped past your lips, licking into you slowly. your hands dragged down the length of her arms until they found the collar of her jacket. you tugged impatiently, needing less between you.

without missing a beat, paige shrugged it off without breaking the kiss.

your palms landed flat on her stomach, pressing against smooth, firm skin, your fingers splaying over her abs. her body tensed beneath your touch.

you slightly pulled back, panting, lips swollen, a burn in your lungs from the lack of oxygen. a thin string of spit hung between your mouths, stretching then snapping as you licked your lips.

paige looked wrecked in the prettiest way.

her blue eyes low. lips wet. chest rising slow.

“i’ve been thinking about this since the bar,” she whispered against your lips, dragging her hand under the cup of your ass, squeezing hard. “how badly you wanted me to fuck you but still tried to play it cute.”

you let out a breath that caught halfway.

“i did n—"

“don’t lie to me,” she cut in, her hand cupping your pussy through your panties, palm pressing hard. “you’re still dripping, mama.”

she was right.

your knees buckled slightly, a quiet gasp escaping your throat before you could catch it.

you knew she could feel it. the shake in your thighs, the way your breath hitched, the way your hips rolled forward into her touch.

she leaned forward, her mouth brushing against the shell of your ear.

“you feel that shit?” she whispered, pressing her palm firmer against your center, her thumb sliding in slow, deliberate circles over the soaked fabric.

you whimpered in response. your hand clutched her bicep for balance, nails digging into her skin, your other hand balling into the fabric of her shirt. her tongue licked over your ear lobe, warm and soft.

“i could make you cum just like this,” she murmured, using her knee to spread your legs even further. “right here. up against this wall. panties still on. my fingers rubbing on this pretty pussy.”

your head tipped back against the wall with a soft thud, breath stuttering as her teeth grazed your earlobe, not hard enough for discomfort but enough to send another wave of pleasure between your legs.

you groaned, hand sliding up to her face to grip her jaw, thumb brushing the edge of her bottom lip. you pulled her back in front of you, eyes locked.

“paige, i need your mouth,” you pleaded as her thumb still rubbed dangerously slow.

her lips parted slightly, tongue swiping across the bottom one like she could still taste you from earlier.

“where?” she asked, like she wanted to hear you say it just to break you down with it.

you huffed, jaw clenched. “don’t be a fucking dick.”

paige bit back a grin, the corner of her mouth twitching, but she didn’t argue.

instead she slipped both hands under your dress, palms dragging up your thighs until her fingers hooked the thin string of your thong.

she tugged it down slowly, watching the fabric peel off your skin like a reward she earned. you didn’t breathe until she dropped to her knees in front of you.

“this what you want?” she murmured, staring up at you, eyes locked as your panties pooled at your ankles.

she helped you step out, even reached to slide your heels off your feet, tossing them to the side like it was nothing.

"i think you want this more than me." you said, voice still shaky, but clear.

she just stayed there— on her knees, her hands sliding up your bare calves, thumbs brushing along the backs of your thighs. her eyes never left yours.

"you might be right," paige said as her hand gripped your thigh and hiked your leg over her shoulder, fingers bunching the fabric of your dress high on your hips. her mouth was just inches away, her breath hot against your skin. "you want me to prove it?"

she didn’t wait for your answer— just pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh.

then another, closer to your cunt. soft and teasing, grazing her teeth against your skin.

your hands dove into her hair, fingers tangled in the bun at the back of her head as you tugged hard, trying to pull her mouth where it mattered.

“fuck me,” you gritted your teeth, “or on my life i’m leaving and slashing your tires on the way out.”

paige’s eyes flicked up, filled with half-amusement and half-lust.

“so dramatic,” she murmured, lips brushing your inner thigh again. “you coulda just said please.”

but she complied.

without another word, she gripped your ass with both hands, pulled your hips closer to her face, and devoured you. she used her tongue, dragging it through your folds deliberately slow, then flattened it against your clit.

"fuck!" you cried out, loudly.

your back arched against the wall, hands gripping her head, pulling her deeper. she groaned into your pussy, deep and guttural, sending vibrations through your core as her tongue circled your clit with filthy precision.

then she sucked.

your knees buckled. you nearly collapsed on her, leg shaking around her shoulder, hips jerking into her mouth like your body was acting on instinct alone. she held you still. moving one hand around your thigh, the other pressing against your stomach to keep you from running.

"you taste so good, baby," she rasped against your pussy.

you barely had time to breathe before her lips were back on you, latching onto your clit. the one hand that she had on your thigh traveled down between your legs. she used two fingers to spread apart your folds, running her tongue from your hole to your clitoral hood, lapping up all the juices you gushed out for her.

she slowed her pace just a bit, tracing every crevice with her tongue before returning back to your swollen clit. she alternated between flicking her tongue and licking over your bud, shaking her head slightly, making you dig your fingers even further into her hair, pushing her face deeper.

"oh my god, paige-" you gasped, the rest of your words getting caught in a high pitched moan.

maybe it was the overwhelming tension that had been building between you two all night, or the fact that she had been edging you for the past twenty minutes, but you swear nothing has ever felt this good.

you didn’t know how your legs were still holding you up. your knees were jelly. your thighs were twitching. your head kept falling back against the wall, unable to stay still.

you haven't even known her for half a day, yet she's fucking you like she's known you for years. her fingers curled inside you at a rhythmic pace, hitting your spot so precisely. over and over again.

your back arches off the wall, riding her face, hard and messy. your hand flew to your chest, tugging your dress down without a second thought. your breasts spilled free into the cool air, nipples already hard. you grabbed at one, squeezing, rolling your fingers over it until you moaned again, louder this time.

"don't stop," you were barely coherent. each word and moan that came from your mouth was closer and closer to sounding like a sob.

paige hummed again against your cunt. her lips created a tight suction around your puffy clit, using her tongue to flick erratically.

and just like that, your body jerks.

the pressure that had been coiled in your gut snapped, exploding out in waves that knocked the breath out of you. literally.

you couldn't think. couldn't breathe.

you felt like you were being held hostage to your own pleasure. you couldn't do anything but wildly buck your hips into her face as she continued lapping up everything you had her before it even had time to leak. your mouth was open— no sound, just gasps of air— cheeks hot and wet from the tears that slipped from your eyes.

finally feeling your arm again, you muster up as much energy as you could to push at her shoulder. paige pulled back breathlessly, lips and chin drenched in your juices. her hair was messy, most of her bun undone from the grip you had on it.

your legs were trembling, and paige— sensing that you were struggling— stood up to her feet to hold onto you. she caressed your face with her other hand, bringing you in for a quick kiss.

when she pulled back, she rested her forehead against yours. "you okay?"

you nodded, still dazed from your orgasm. your hand reached for her chain, looping a finger under it to pull her back in. your lips met hers again, hungrier this time. you sucked on her bottom lip, moaning softly into her mouth, then kissed your way down to her chin, licking your own slick from her skin like you were claiming it back.

paige moaned, gripping your sides tighter. "shit..."

"bed," you muttered against her jawline, breath hot against her skin. "now."

paige didn't hesitate. her hands grabbed onto the back of your thighs and lifted you up, your legs instantly wrapped around her waist, leaving messy open mouthed kisses at her neck as she maneuvered through her apartment. you bit down, sucking hard enough to bruise.

"you're killing me," paige said, her voice strained and needy.

"good," you whispered, rolling your hips against her bare stomach.

paige pushed open a door with her foot and crossed the threshold, tossing you onto her bed. you bounced once, dress hiked around your hips, tits fully out and glistening in the soft light from your body oil. you propped yourself up on your elbows, watching her with parted lips.

she reached forward, tugging at the hem of your dress until it reached your hips. you lifted yourself up, helping her completely pull it off of you.

she then grabbed the ends of her shirt and pulled it over her head, revealing a fitted black sports bra that hugged her just enough to make you throb all over again. she let it drop to the floor behind her, eyes still locked on yours as she started to crawl over the bed.

but you stopped her, foot planted against her abdomen.

she froze and arched an eyebrow at you, curious, breath catching just slightly.

you didn’t say anything right away, dragging your foot slowly down her torso, tracing every muscle, until your toes found the zipper of her shorts and rested there.

"these too."

paige's mouth curled into the faintest smirk, "yes, ma'am."

she pulled back to undo the zipper on her shorts slowly, hooking her thumbs into the waistband before dragging them down her legs. her boxers were black, snug against her thighs. she was lean, defined in all the right places. the rough kisses you left on her neck were already forming into hickeys. you felt your mouth water at the sight of her in front of you.

"i wanna taste you."

you rose up to sit on your knees, eyes never leaving hers. paige stayed standing, watching you with a heat in her gaze that made your pulse spike.

“i won’t stop you,” she murmured, her fingers slipped into your hair, gentle but possessive, dragging her nails lightly along your scalp as if guiding you without force.

your hands slid up the side of her thighs, letting your nails drag against her skin, before they curled around the waistband of her briefs.

you tugged them down slowly, watching the way her body responded. you could see her hips jerk forward, just once, small but noticeable.

they slipped halfway down her thighs with ease, revealing her slick, glistening cunt already dripping for you.

your hands gripped her thighs for stability as you got closer, lips inches away from her. "i should make your ass beg."

“yeah fucking right,” she fired back, letting out a shaky laugh.

"what?" you pulled back slightly, dragging your lips upward to lick up her thigh, along her pelvis bone. "you had so much to say about this mouth... now you don't want it?"

"i do want it."

you could see her patience thinning, but you didn't care. she was stubborn, but so were you. she didn't get to toy with you all night and not get a taste of her own medicine.

your thumb brushed over her clit just barely and she tensed again. you kissed back down her thighs. "beg."

for a second, she didn’t move.

her jaw clenched, eyes closing briefly. but you stayed there, still quietly placing kisses on her skin, waiting for her next move.

then she finally spoke.

“please, baby,” paige rasped, opening her eyes to meet yours. "i need your mouth— fuck, i need it.”

you let her feel your smile against her skin. within seconds, you leaned in, kissing her clit once. then again, longer, deeper, lips sucking around it with purpose. you felt her fingers tighten in your hair as she let her head fall back with a soft moan. you licked between her folds, tongue flattening to push deep and taste everything she had waiting for you.

“shit—" paige choked out, tugging you back suddenly, her breath shallow. "lay on your back. now.”

you moved quick, eyes hungry as you laid flat against her sheets, mouth still wet with the taste of her. paige climbed over you, the mattress dipping beneath her weight, and positioned herself above your face, her pussy just inches from your mouth.

“this okay?” she asked, voice quieter now.

you didn’t answer with words.

your tongue met her center again, licking up her slit before you sucked her clit into your mouth with a moan. paige groaned, deep from her throat. her thighs tensed beside your head, her fingers finding your hair again, tighter now.

“oh shit…”

she rolled her hips once, careful and experimental, then again, rougher, grinding down into your face like she needed it.

you held yourself still with your tongue flat out as she rode your face, watching her through your eyelashes. her eyes were closed, eyebrows slightly furrowed, with her lips parted. her moans were quieter, but raw and vulnerable. you clenched your own thighs together at the sight.

you flicked your tongue up at just the right angle, hitting her clit mid-grind, earning another praise from her.

"just like that."

you could feel her starting to shake above you, her wetness coating your chin, dripping down your jaw. she continued rhythmic strokes that got messier with every pass. you didn’t move even as your jaw began to ache. you kept your tongue out, let her use you as she pleased, hands resting on her thighs as she rode your mouth harder.

paige tugged at your hair tighter, making you moan against her. you pressed your tongue even further into her, feeling her hips stutter.

“oh—” she gasps, moments before she reaches her orgasm. a heavy groan escapes her and her entire body shudders, her thighs clenching tight around your head.

paige didn’t say a word for a moment.

just hovered there, breathless, trying to collect herself. it wasn't long before she removed herself off of you to sit in the empty space next to you, back rested against her headboard.

you sat up slowly. paige was watching you—head tilted back slightly, eyes hooded and dark.

“come here."

you crawled toward her, and as soon as you were within reach, her hands found your waist, dragging you forward until you were straddling her lap.

her eyes dropped, trailing down your chest, over your pierced navel, past the mess she’d made between your thighs, and back up like she was trying to memorize you all over again.

your tongue slid across your bottom lip, licking away the taste she left on your face.

she didn’t look away.

“wanna taste it?” you asked.

paige nodded slowly before you reached out, cupping her chin between your fingers. her lips parted easily for you.

you leaned forward, mouth hovering just above hers, letting a mix of your saliva and her juices fall into her mouth. it dripped slow, stretched, then broke against her tongue.

she chased after your lips hungrily, like she needed more of you. her hands found the curve of your ass and gripped firmly, thumbs digging into the flesh before she let one cheek go and landed a sharp slap that echoed through the room. you gasped, body jolting, but the sting only made you want her more.

"turn around," paige ordered, murmuring against your lips.

you hesitated, confused, but could feel the delicious anticipation curling in your stomach. still, you let her guide you, limbs pliant under her touch.

your back was now pressed flush to her front.

her arms wrapped around your thighs, yanking them up, spreading them wide until your wet cunt was fully exposed on display for both of you.

“look at that pussy,” paige whispered against your ear. “so fucking pretty.”

your head dropped back into the crook of her neck, lips parted, chest heaving. she kept one arm locked under your left thigh while her leg held your right leg in place, holding them up and apart so you wouldn't be able to close them. her other hand slid up your front, warm and delicate, until it found your breasts.

she cupped them softly at first, then squeezed. her thumbs brushed over your nipples, rolling them between her fingers until you whined from how sensitive you still were.

"paige..." you half-whined, half-pleaded, feeling yourself clench around air desperately.

her hand left your breast, holding two fingers up to your mouth. "suck."

and you did.

your lips wrapped around her fingers, warm and wet, tongue swirling around them as you kept her gaze.

paige’s eyes darkened, her breath hitched just slightly as you hollowed your cheeks, sucking her fingers deeper. when she finally pulled them free, they left your lips with a slick pop.

you didn’t even have time to blink. her hand was already between your thighs, and those same soaked fingers slipped into you to the hilt without warning.

your walls clenched around her immediately, a broken gasp ripping out of your throat.

at first, she moved slow, making your stomach tighten and your hips lift off the bed. she let you sit in it, let you feel every inch of her fingers dragging against your walls. until she shifted. her pace snapped faster, rougher, fucking into you without mercy.

your back arched hard, hands scrambled up her arms, gripping her flexed biceps so tight your nails dug into her skin. you let out a soft cry, voice cracking as her name fell from lips.

her hand slid off your thigh, moving up to your throat— wrapping around it, squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch. "so wet for me. bet you’d let me keep you like this all night.”

"yes," you mewled softly, nodding your head repeatedly against her as your legs shook.

her thumb pressed against the side of your throat, feeling your pulse hammering against her skin.

“yeah?” she taunted, grinding her fingers deeper into you. “you’d let me fuck you stupid, baby? keep you creaming on my hand ‘til you can't take it?"

“i—” you gasped, a ragged moan ripping out of your mouth as she curled her fingers against your spot. “oh, fuck—”

your legs fell even wider, hips rolling down into her hand.

“…i can take it,” you panted, words slurring.

she kept fucking into you, her strokes rough, anything but gentle. you could feel her breath against your ear, speaking to you— but it was all gibberish to you. she kept her pace the same, grinding her palm against your clit with every thrust, making your vision blur and your whole body shake against her.

"yes, yes, yes," you cried, your nails dug into her arms, chasing the orgasm she was dragging out of you. half the words coming from your mouth didn't even make sense anymore.

“that’s it,” she muttered against your ear, breathing you in. she used one of the fingers that sprawled over your throat to turn your head back towards her, claiming your mouth with a messy kiss.

you whimpered into her mouth, fingers tangling in the back of her neck, yanking her impossibly closer like you needed her more than you needed to breathe.

maybe you did.

the heat in your gut was back, hotter, heavier, burning low and brutal.

you pulled back from her kiss, panting against her lips, your chest heaving against hers.

your teeth caught your bottom lip, biting down hard as another sharp pulse rolled through you, your toes curling tight into the sheets.

"oh my god— i'm cumming—" you somehow managed to cry out in between moans.

your body locked up, thighs snapping tight around her hand as fucked you through another orgasm. her hand slipped from your throat to yank your thighs back open, locking her arm underneath your leg.

"take it, baby," she said, against your lips, eyes locked on you.

you gasped sharply, head dropping forward. paige didn’t slow, her fingers fucked into you ruthlessly, letting you ruin her sheets, soaking them underneath your spasming body.

another orgasm tore through you, violent and raw. gushes of your arousal squirting through her fingers and dripped down your ass, soaking her wrist. you sobbed against her arm, whole body trembling uncontrollably from the sheer overstimulation.

“fuck,” paige groaned as she kept going. she retracted her fingers from inside of you, rubbing sharp, quick circles against your clit.

she coaxed you through it, forcing more from you, dragging every last drop out until you were whimpering broken sounds into her skin.

“mm, there you go,” she murmured, half praising, half growling, feeling you shudder beneath her. “so fuckin' perfect.”

your legs twitched helplessly as her movements eventually came to a halt. your body immediately slumped back against her chest, feeling boneless and utterly fucked out. your chest rose and fell in quick bursts, trying to catch your breath.

"breathe, mama."

paige shifted behind you carefully, easing you off her lap and onto the mattress, laying you down gently beside her. her hands lingering a second longer than necessary, like she didn't want the night to end.

"how you feelin'?" her fingers skimmed lazily over your stomach, light, barely there.

your chest rose and fell in sharp, shaky breaths, skin burning everywhere she touched you. paige leaned over, brushing curls from your forehead with the back of her knuckles.

"good," you whispered, voice hoarse. "i think..."

paige smirked, "you tapping out?"

"fuck, no," you let out a breathless laugh, "i'm just... recuperating."

"good," she leaned down, pressing a light kiss to your lips. "cause we still got all night."

[silens-oro]

Well Enough Alone: Part III

Not all fics have adult content, but this blog is 18+. Andrew "Pope" Cody x f!Reader (nicknamed Hawk) Prologue Cut the Loss (companion piece) Part I Part II Chicken Hawk (companion piece)

Masterlist Pope Cody Playlist

General Synopsis: The unspoken line once drawn between Hawk and Pope is beginning to disappear. Word Count: 3,964 Content Warning: masturbation (m), typical Animal Kingdom warnings A/N: LISTEN we're starting to get into it and I've enjoyed the comments and messages I've gotten regarding this story so far. I'm rubbing my little fly hands together every time I read that someone has come over from The Pitt to Animal Kingdom territory. we're starting under a read-more because it is explicit right out of the gate lmao. Please comment & reblog :)

Pope tried to keep his grunting to a minimum, but the way his soapy hand glided over his cock as he watched Hawk in the pool from the bathroom window was too much for him this particular morning. The one way tint allowed him to look out without anyone seeing what he was doing. 

It wasn’t the first time Pope had taken advantage of this, and it wouldn’t be the last. 

The steaming hot water stung as it rained down on his freckled back. Pope braced his right forearm on the tiled shower wall, his face tilting into his bicep to smother some of the moans that tried to escape. Just the thought of Hawk taking his hand’s place was enough to send him over the edge.

“Fuck, fuck-” Pope groaned out through clenched teeth, his chest heaving as he caught Hawk climbing out of the pool just as his fist canted in time with his final thrust into his fist. White ropes of cum hit the wall in front of him in an orgasm that sent a shock through his entire body. He slowed his strokes as the last spurts of cum left him and his forehead came down to rest on his forearm that was still holding him up. 

It was one thing to recall Hawk’s face and body from memory while he was locked up, but it was another thing entirely to have her in the flesh as Pope jerked himself off.

Pope stood under the stream of water, giving himself a moment to bask in the afterglow before the shame of what he had done would inevitably set in. 

One day, he told himself as he sprayed the wall down to get rid of the aftermath that plagued his brain. 

“You gonna keep giving me the cold shoulder?” Hawk ignored Pope as she worked. That seemed to be her usual morning schedule that he took note of since he moved in with her -wake up around seven, go for a morning swim, do some work at home, go by the shop, then either go to Smurf’s or come home. Pope nodded to himself at Hawk’s deliberate silence, pursing his lips in mild irritation as he leaned over the island into his forearms. “I was out of line,” He admitted. “and I apologized to the kid -we’re square. It won’t happen again.” 

“For your sake, it better not.” Hawk didn’t look up at him as she continued to type. Her fingers hit the keys with more force than was needed, an indicator to Pope that she still wasn’t happy with him. He leaned down on the counter next to her and got her attention.

“I’m sorry.” He dragged out. 

“You’re sorry?” Hawk asked with a less than impressed expression when she finally gave him her attention. 

“I didn’t realize how close you and the kid were. Now that I know, it won’t happen again.” He explained as if that excuse was valid in any way, shape, or form. Whether Pope was genuine about what he was saying was something else entirely and Hawk didn’t really give two shits in that moment. She spoke her piece the night before and the emotions she was currently feeling were the aftermath of that. “I mean it.” Pope pushed. Hawk held his eyes for a few moments before nodding and going back to drafting an email to a potential client. Genuine or not, she had to let him know she meant every word that she said the night before. 

Pope opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. He untwisted the cap with a loud snap and continued to watch Hawk as she worked. She ignored him as he paced the length of the kitchen, only glancing at him when his back was turned. Hawk tried not to let her eyes linger on the tight muscles of his shoulders as he moved his arms, and she definitely didn’t let her gaze fall further south. Definitely not. She quickly brought her eyes back to her laptop as he turned around.

“What the hell is this?” Hawk tried to keep the irritation out of her voice when Pope tossed a very obviously thick envelope on the island in front of the laptop. The sound of the envelope slapping against the granite startled her, the loud crack reverberated up to the tall ceilings. 

“It’s for you.” He said with a nonchalant shrug, leaning his back against the counter where he was previously.

“Yeah, I get that,” Hawk shut the laptop closed and carefully peeled the flap open. “But why is there like,” She looked inside the envelope tentatively before looking back at Pope, “-ten grand in here?” 

“There’s twelve. I figured that should cover the rooms and gas over the last three years, and to cover some stuff while I’m here.” He shrugged again, like this twelve grand was nothing, but Hawk knew this wasn't nothing. This was a whole lot of something, and she wanted nothing to do with wherever it came from. “You’ve sacrificed a lot for me. It’s only fair that I return the favor.” Hawk stood and rounded the corner to Pope’s side of the kitchen. 

“I’m not taking this, Pope,” Hawk handed it over to him, but he crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. The muscles in his arms bulged, nearly distracting Hawk. “I’m serious. I’m not taking this.” She smacked the heavy envelope on his forearm, but he didn’t budge. Hawk sighed, squeezing the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger as she placed the envelope on the island. “I didn’t do any of that with the expectation that you needed to give me something in return, much less twelve grand, Pope. That’s insane.” Hawk hissed, though not angrily. Oh no, this was out of complete befuddlement. 

“Then why did you do it?” He stepped towards her, his arms dropping to his sides. Hawk nearly tripped over her own feet as she backed up with every step Pope took forward. “Why are you still doing it?” 

“Because I care about you.” Hawk said it like it was the most obvious answer in the world. “I’ve always cared about you, Pope.” 

“Like you cared about Julia?” There was a brief pause. Hawk’s heart felt like it was beating in her ears as her eyes locked with Pope’s. 

“No.” She breathed out. 

“Is uh…everything alright?” J’s hesitant voice cut through the tension and Hawk met his alarmed eyes from where he stood in the entrance to the hallway. He must’ve just woken up, or he had been listening the whole time and felt this was the appropriate time to step in for Hawk. 

Pope didn’t budge and kept his gaze on her. 

“Everything’s fine, J.” Hawk’s voice cracked as she placed a hand on Pope’s chest to gently push him back, but he held her hand to his chest, right over his heart. His callused thumb rubbed gentle, soothing circles over the back of Hawk’s hand, and still his eyes never left her. 

J did not like what he was seeing the second he stepped into the kitchen, dragging his feet and rubbing his eyes only to be faced with Hawk and Pope inches away from each other, locked in a very intimate conversation that he couldn’t hear from the other side of the room. And suddenly, as if a lightbulb went off over his head, J understood why Pope treated him the way he did. Sure, he was suspicious of J, but deep down Pope felt jealousy. Territorial might be the better word for it. The pieces were fitting together and J didn’t know if he preferred getting his ass beat by Pope or seeing Pope look down at Hawk like she hung the moon and the stars in the sky. J cleared his throat, feeling incredibly awkward. 

“Just two adults trying to have a conversation, J.” Pope’s voice held a little bite to it. 

“I’m uh, I’m gonna go to Nicky’s and then head to Smurf’s. Do you need anything from me before I leave?” He left the question open on purpose. Did she feel safe? Would she be in danger if he left? J didn’t think he could do much damage to Pope, but he could distract him long enough for Hawk to get out of the house if he had to. 

“Everything is fine, J. Tell Nicky I said ‘Hi’.” J nodded, still unconvinced. 

“Alright,” J nodded, still apprehensive. He hovered for a few more seconds before walking past Hawk and Pope to the entrance way so he could slip on his shoes. Hawk watched J until the door closed behind him, then brought her attention back to Pope. She brought her other hand up and cupped his jaw, her thumb rubbing at his cheekbone just under his eye. Pope leaned into it, his eyes finally closing as he took in the feeling of her palm’s caress. 

“I’m serious about the money, Pope.” Hawk’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper. “I do appreciate the gesture, but you don’t owe me anything and you’ll never owe me anything just because I care about you. I want to make that abundantly clear. I’m not transactional.” Pope brought his forehead down to rest on hers in a brief moment of uncharted intimacy. The line that had never been crossed between them was starting to become muddy, unknown territory and it scared the absolute hell out of Hawk. 

She took that moment to slowly pull back from Pope, gently removing her hand from his that was still on his chest and face. The loss of his warmth, and the strength in his hands alone was noticeable immediately. Could you crave someone’s touch when that touch was only just given to you? Hawk felt like she was losing her mind, her world going just slightly off kilter and Pope…Pope was trying desperately to hold himself together. He licked his lips anxiously and finally took a step back, allowing them both to breathe. 

“Smurf wants us at the house later for lunch,” Pope mentioned once the dust had settled, making Hawk’s eye twitch. “I’ll drive.”

“I cannot tell you how good it is to have you around again, baby. I’m hoping you’re here for good this time,” Smurf eyed Hawk as she helped the matriarch put lunch together for the boys. All of the brothers, Baz, and J were outside roughhousing in the pool. Hawk felt on edge, knowing how rough the brothers could be and how J would be their target. “Being around you has been good for Pope since he got out of prison. I’ve noticed a change in him.”

“Yeah, it’s good to have him out.” Hawk responded nonchalantly as she finished slicing through the sandwiches she was assembling. 

“You know what I mean, baby. Everyone can sense the tension between you. You’re telling me it’s completely one sided?” Smurf raised a brow, pouting her lips as she pushed some kale and bananas into her blender. Hawk sighed, slicing through two more sandwiches before looking up at Smurf. “Give me a break.”

“I don’t know what you think is going on there, Smurf, but nothing has happened. Nothing has changed between us.” Hawk definitely did not like the way Smurf was being pushy about this. Smurf didn’t have a genuine bone in her body, so when she pulled a pill bottle and set it on the counter, Hawk knew where all this sweet talk was going. “What is this, Smurf?”

“I trust you, Hawk. We may butt heads from time to time, but I know you’re sharper than a whip. Always have been.” Smurf pushed the bottle until it was directly in front of Hawk. “Pope is…struggling. I know you see it. He was outside, naked and howling at the moon the first night he was out. He has some difficulties with certain things and these help even him out. I can’t trust anyone but you with this. You care about Pope, I know you do, and you care about him deeply. You’re protective of him and I couldn’t be more appreciative, baby, which is why I need your help with this.” 

“You’ve been giving these to him?” Hawk breathed out, a very bad feeling filling her stomach. 

“I try to, but it seems he’s been spending more time at your place than he does here as of recent, so I can’t get him the doses he needs on a steady basis.”

“So you want me to give these to him?” Smurf opened a second bottle from where she grabbed the first and popped two pills out. She crushed them on the counter and tossed the powder into the blender that had one single serving of the smoothies remaining inside. Smurf put the lid on it and then set it to blend for a few seconds before shaking the last bit into an empty glass that was just out of the group of five other glasses. “Does he know you’re doing this?”

“He’s not the biggest fan of taking them, but it’s a necessary evil, Hawk. He’s his own worst enemy when he’s off the meds.”

“I don’t know how comfortable I am with this, Smurf.” That was a lie. Hawk knew exactly how uncomfortable this made her. Did Pope need some type of medication intervention? Maybe, but that should be something that he decides to do, not his mother, and definitely not hiding it in his food like she’s trying to medicate a dog with a pill wrapped in a piece of cheese. The whole thing felt bad and weird, and Hawk knew immediately that whatever Smurf was doing wasn’t to help Pope. If anything it more than likely just made him more agreeable to whatever fucked up bullshit Smurf wanted him to do. 

Smurf was wrong in trusting Hawk with this. It could’ve been a test, Hawk thought to herself. It didn’t matter to her because there was no way in hell she’s actually go through with this. And if Smurf thought Hawk would, then she was more clueless than Hawk ever thought. The matriarch of the family was right about one thing, though -Hawk was protective of Pope (despite his altercation with J), and that protection was usually against his own family. 

“He can become very dangerous without these.” Smurf switched to a fear tactic. “I’m not saying he’d ever hurt you, but sometimes he does things without knowing he’s doing them. This medication stops that. You’re the only person I can trust with this, baby.” Smurf repeated. She picked up the bottle and placed it in Hawk’s hand. Put these in your purse.” 

There was no way Hawk would do this. No way in absolute hell. Pope trusted her, and she trusted him, and there was no way she’d do anything as nefarious as spike his food because it made him more agreeable. Still, not wanting to rock the boat with Smurf, Hawk merely nodded and stuffed the bottle into the bottom of her purse just as Smurf told her to. 

“Good. Knew I could count on you.” Hawk nodded again, clearly lost in what to say after that revelation. “Now, back to the conversation at hand.”

“Nothing is happening between us, Smurf.” Smurf laughed, grabbing all of the smoothies in her arms to carry outside to the boys. To Pope. Hawk knew she should’ve done something, anything, to stop Smurf, but what could she do? Any kind of push back from her was just as good as spitting directly in Smurf’s face. It would be an offense that Smurf would not let flow under the bridge and Hawk knew that, so she did nothing except watch Smurf leave the kitchen with the glasses in her hands -ultimately powerless. 

“Then maybe you should be the one to initiate, hm?” Smurf suggested as she picked up the tray of sandwiches and walked through the slider to the back yard. “It’ll be good for the both of you, baby. You know where his feelings lay. It’s hardly a secret. Bring the sandwiches out with you!” 

“Jesus Christ, Pope.” The man in question was bleeding from his nose when Hawk finally made her way out to the patio. She set the platter of sandwiches down on the table and grabbed a towel off of a chair, then hurried over to Pope. 

“I’m fine,” He brushed her away gently, glaring down at J. Hawk smacked his hand away when he tried to push her hand down from going up to his face. “J just got a little overzealous. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Stop,” Hawk demanded, dabbing at the blood. “Tilt your head back for a second to stop the bleeding.”

“I’m fine,” Pope replied dryly. 

“Let her take care of you, baby.” Smurf called over with a big ol smirk as if to say I told you so. 

“Let her take care of you, baby,” Craig mocked, Daren laughing next to him as they sat at the table and started making their plates. 

“Enough, idiots one and two.” Hawk snapped and grabbed Pope’s hand to bring it up to hold the towel to his face. 

“That was very unkind of you, Hawk!” Craig called back, a shit eating grin ever present on his face. 

“Ignore them.” Pope said softly for only Hawk to hear. 

“Just give it a minute, alright?” Pope raised a brow, but nodded to get her to stop fussing. When Hawk was satisfied, she walked back into the house to wash her hands in the kitchen sink. She needed a moment to collect herself and the kitchen gave her the much needed respite from the knowing looks she was now recognizing from the rest of the family every time she made eye contact with them. 

As Hawk turned around, drying her hands on a clean kitchen towel, she screamed, clutching her chest. 

“Jesus fuck, Pope! You’re going to kill me if you keep doing this!” She smacked him lightly on his bare chest with the towel before tossing it onto the island. Hawk took a breath to try and calm her pounding heart, but the proximity of Pope was stifling. “What’s up?” He didn’t say anything as he caged Hawk against the sink. 

Hawk’s eyes were about to pop out of her head at the invasion of her personal space. The coverup she wore over her bathing suit felt like she was wearing a parka in the California sun with the way she was flushed from head to toe. His chest was nearly touching hers and Hawk was sure that Pope could feel her heart pounding as her eyes unintentionally connected every freckle on his chest until her eyes met his.

Pope kept his eyes on her, watching every little move she made as Hawk attempted to process what he was doing. Without losing eye contact, Pope raised his arms and turned the tap on behind her. 

“Just gotta wash my hands.” Hawk swallowed thickly, sweat rolling down her neck and between her shoulders, causing goosebumps to break out over her whole body as Pope’s arms flexed around her. He somehow stepped closer, the entire front of his body pressed against hers with one of his thighs nestled between hers. Hawk’s hands instinctively came up to grasp around Pope’s very naked, thick, muscular waist. The contact was electric, like a current shot from his skin to hers and she didn’t realize she was holding her breath until-

“-Oh!” Smurf’s voice cut through the tension. Hawk felt the air physically deflate from her body, but still Pope didn’t budge an inch. Hawk felt her face get hot, red hot, and embarrassment at getting caught like she was a teen all over again swept through her. “Just pretend I’m not here. Grabbing the rest of these,” Smurf grabbed a tray with condiments. “You lovebirds better join us soon.” Smurf said, just to stir the pot. With that, she was back out of the slider, leaving an irritated looking Pope and a panicked Hawk. 

If Hawk could’ve dissolved into a pile of ashes, she would’ve. 

If Pope could’ve killed his mother right then, he would’ve. 

Hawk was the first to break contact. She gently pushed Pope away just far enough to duck under his arms and took off through the slider without a word, mentally berating herself for letting Pope drive them both over instead of just taking her own car. 

Pope watched her go, the phantom feeling of her body pressed to his was seared in his memory. The lingering heat didn’t do anything to stop the tug in his stomach when he saw the panicked look in her eyes as she fled. He brought his wet hands up to his face to cool himself down before he faced her and the leering he’d get from Smurf outside. 

The ride back to Hawk’s was…silent. She could feel Pope’s eyes on her as he shifted his attention between the road and her. 

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” The irony of Pope himself sounding uncomfortable was not lost on Hawk. They were stopped at a red light and Hawk was fidgeting with her hands just like she did on the fist visit to Folsom. She was nervous and he didn’t like that at all, especially when that nervousness stemmed from him. “I’ve clearly overstepped-”

“I care about you, Pope. Believe me, I do.” Hawk’s thoughts went back to that pill bottle that weighed her purse down like it was made of lead. 

“You’ve said as much.” He referenced their conversation from earlier that morning. The same conversation that didn’t give him an answer to what was going on between them. Twice Pope has tried to initiate, and twice he was unsuccessful. 

“I just…there are a lot of moving parts here.” 

“What are you afraid of, Hawk?” The light turned green. “Unless I’m reading this wrong, which I don’t think I am by the way, there’s something here. We’ve been tiptoeing around it, but it’s still there.”

“I’ve been on the outside of all this, Pope.” This meaning his family. “My life has remained mostly unaffected by whatever jobs you guys are pulling and I’m afraid that this is going to open a door I want to stay shut.” Hawk explained. “I’m not ignorant to what you guys do, why you went to prison. My rule of thumb has always been to not ask questions and don’t comment on any of it, but I know. And right now I’m breaking my own rule and I’m going to ask one question, Pope.” Hawk looked up from her hands to look at Pope. The truck was climbing the steep driveway to Hawk’s home and he nodded as he put it in park once they reached the outside of her garage. “Has he been involved in any of this?” Pope knew she meant J. 

“Who? The kid?” He played dumb and shook his head, one of his hands rubbing at the back of his neck. 

“Pope.” She pleaded. 

“He’s not involved, Hawk. You said not to involve him, so he’s not.” She analysed Pope’s features, trying to determine if he was telling the truth. She didn’t think he would have any reason to lie to her, but he was a naturally hard to read person and he was also a Cody. “J’s good. With all of us.” This seemed to lift a visible weight from her shoulders. “He spends more time at girlfriend’s house than he does at Smurf’s anyway.” It was a believable lie, that much Pope knew, and Hawk seemed to accept it as truth. She would find out the truth eventually, and Pope would cross that bridge when he got to it. 

“Okay.” Hawk nodded, looking into his eyes once more before she hopped out of the truck and waited for Pope to follow her into the house. 

The second the door was closed, Hawk was on him. 

please comment & reblog :)

[msbigredmachine]

The Boy Next Door: Chapter Five

MASTERLIST ✨ harmshake’s masterlist ✨ msbigredmachine’s masterlist

Word Count: 8.9k

TRIGGER WARNINGS: 18+, NSFW, language, angst, violence, smut

Poster made by me. Credit to the owners of the other pics and gifs.

A/N: So, as you all know, harmshake is on an extended hiatus from tumblr. This means I'll be handling the story henceforth. We were both able to draft and flesh out the chapters and storyline together, giving me an easier job of putting the finishing touches on each one and uploading them. I hope you've all enjoyed it, we both had a blast doing this together and hope you continue to support us and TBND!

Enjoy chapter 5! 😬

The glow of Ivy’s bedside lamp bathed golden light on her chocolate skin as she reclined against the pillows of her window seat, glass of port wine in hand, pepperoni pizza on a paper plate, her full lips curved into a teasing smile. 

Across the street, in her direct line of sight, Roman lounged in a leather seat by his open window, a small plate of buffalo wings within arm’s reach on the sill. The soft yellow light from his room reflected off his sharp features, highlighting the intensity in his gaze that made her pulse quicken as they watched each other from a pleasantly short distance.

“Dude, you’re lucky I like you,” she said, biting into her pizza. “I don’t usually share my date nights with someone who isn’t even in the same room with me.”

Roman’s deep laugh rumbled through the phone. “Oh, baby girl, you don’t just like me—you adore me. Own that shit.”

She rolled her eyes, her grin widening. “You’re awfully sure of yourself.”

“And you love that about me,” he countered smoothly, swirling his whiskey. 

She paused at his words, her heart skipping a beat. Love? It wasn’t the first time Roman’s confidence caught her off guard, but this? This was different. She tucked a stray curl behind her ear, the weight of the word lingering in the air between them.

“How’s Zaia doing?” he asked, as if sensing her thoughts, smartly steering the conversation away, but not before leaving Ivy with the faintest flutter of something unspoken.

“She’s doing better—just a cold, nothing too serious. She’s in her room sleeping, but she was miserable all day, poor thing. We’ve been stuck at home together today, but I don’t mind. She’s my baby. That’s what mamas do,” she said.

Roman’s voice softened, full of admiration. “I know you do your best with her. I see it every day. You’re an incredible mom, Ivy.”

She felt a flutter in her chest, his words hitting her deeper than she expected. There was something about the way he just…cared, even from afar. She took a sip of wine, savoring the smooth taste. “That's so sweet. Thank you, baby,” she answered with a warm mix of emotion and affection. “You seem to be making this whole long-distance date night thing work.”

Roman’s gaze never wavered from hers as he leaned back in his seat, his posture casual yet commanding. “I make it work because it means I get to see you. I’d do anything to make you happy.”

She felt the sincerity in his words, the weight of the connection between them growing stronger by the second. “And I’m lucky to have you around. I like being around you,” she said softly, her eyes locked on his.

A small, teasing smile played at the corner of Roman’s lips. “And I like you in my t-shirts. A lot,” he added, “You look better in them than I ever could.”

Her fingers instinctively brushed the oversized t-shirt she’d claimed during one of their late-night trysts. She leaned closer to the open window, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Glad you feel that way, cuz it’s mine now. You ain’t never gettin’ it back.”

His gaze darkened, and even through the phone, she could hear the change in his tone, low and suggestive. “You can keep it…as long as you tell me what you're wearin' under it.”

Her stomach tightened at the suggestive question, heat pooling low in her belly. She took a slow sip of her wine, her voice laced with playful mischief. 

“Nothing," she responded airily.

The silence that followed was charged, Roman’s sharp intake of breath echoing through the line. Eyes darkened, he leaned forwards, as though trying to close the distance between them. “Prove it,” he rasped, that baritone of his smooth, dangerous, and inviting all at once.

Ivy took a slow breath, the challenge of his words igniting something bold in her. With a sly smile, her fingers slid beneath the hem of the t-shirt, pulling it off completely. Her smooth, naked skin shone even brighter beneath the lights. 

Roman’s sharp exhale sent a thrill through her. “God, you’re exquisite,” he murmured, his voice thick with reverence and hunger. “So fucking beautiful, baby girl.”

His words made her heart race. She knew he was more than just attracted to her—he was captivated. And she was just as entranced by him.

“I wanna see more. Touch yourself for me, Ivy,” he commanded.

Her breath hitched, her pulse racing as he unraveled her carefully maintained composure. “Only if you do the same,” she challenged, her voice trembling with anticipation.

The faint rustle of fabric on his end sent a shiver down her spine. “I already am,” he confessed, his words molten heat. 

Sure enough, his dick was out of his shorts, legs spread far apart, his fist moving up and down the hardened length as he reclined in his chair. "Like what you see, baby?" he asked, his body heating up when she licked her lips. 

"Oh yeah. That's it, big boy. Stroke it for me," she encouraged him, her voice rough with need. “Fuck…I want that big beautiful dick in my mouth, baby," she murmured.

“Just your mouth?” Roman challenged, “Your turn. Show Daddy how wet you are."

Putting her phone on speaker and setting it in front of her, she spread her legs, giving him a full view of her goodies. She pushed her two middle fingers between her folds, gasping from the shock of the intrusion. "Unnnh, fuck," she thrust the fingers in and out of her, imagining it was Roman’s long, thick dick testing the stretch of her walls, and pulled them out, moaning as they came away glistening with her arousal.

“Jesus, Ivy, you’re drippin’…Put that shit in your mouth, baby.”

Completely turned on, she did as he ordered, hearing his groan over the phone as she slowly sucked her taste off her fingers before slipping them back inside her pussy, working them faster. Through the cloudy haze of pleasure, she caught the sweet sight of Roman’s large hand twisting faster around his large length, his lips parted, panting, the depths of his desire flooding her ears and flooding her pussy even more. 

"Shit, that's beautiful, baby girl. Keep fucking your pussy like that..." He watched her head tilt back, groaning along with her as he stroked himself with the same speed as her pumping fingers. The intimacy of the moment swallowed them whole, the distance between their windows evaporating as their breaths quickened in unison. 

Ivy let herself go, surrendering to the way he made her feel—desirable, fearless, alive. For once, she didn’t question the intensity of their connection or the way he effortlessly stripped her bare, emotionally and physically. She only knew she wanted more of this man, Roman Reigns. Probably forever.

Consequences be damned.

Gemini sat at her desk, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. She had never expected to be the one to deliver this news to Ivy. When Kofi—Angelo’s cousin—contacted her, she hesitated. She and Ivy hadn’t spoken in weeks and the idea of revisiting the painful subject of her friend’s baby daddy made her stomach churn. Yet here she was, sitting behind the polished wooden desk in her office, holding a letter from Kofi and a copy of the will that had been left behind after Angelo’s sudden death.

The door creaked open, and Ivy entered, her face drawn with exhaustion, still in her scrubs from her shift at the hospital. The tension in the air was thick, but Ivy’s eyes softened when they met Gemini’s, though she masked it quickly with a sharp, questioning look.

“You said it was urgent,” Ivy said, her voice guarded, her arms folded tightly across her chest.

Gemini gestured to the chair across from her. “Please sit.”

Ivy hesitated but lowered herself into the chair, her eyes flicking from Gemini to the papers on the desk. She looked like she was preparing for bad news, and Gemini couldn’t blame her. The last time they’d spoken, their argument had been raw and emotional, and the distance between them had only grown since.

“Angelo’s cousin Kofi…reached out to me,” Gemini began, her voice steady despite the knots in her stomach. “He wanted me to be the one to handle his affairs. Babe, Angelo had a will—and he left a few things behind. Things for you and Zaia.”

Ivy’s eyebrows furrowed as she leaned forward, curiosity mixed with wariness. “A will? I—” She shook her head, the disbelief evident in her expression. “I didn’t know he had anything left. After everything, I didn’t think he’d care.”

Gemini exhaled, her eyes dropping to the document in front of her. “I didn’t think so either. But there’s more here than I expected. It’s all in the will.”

She slid the papers across the desk. “He bought a house, Ivy. A house for you and Zaia. It’s fully paid for. There’s also a trust fund set up for Zaia—enough to cover her education, and a bit more for whatever else she’ll need. And a piece of local business—his cousin Kofi’s company, actually. It’s a stake in something stable. You’ll have a steady income from it.”

Ivy blinked, her lips parting slightly as she processed the information. “A house? He...he bought us a house?” Her voice cracked slightly as if the weight of the words was more than she could bear.

Gemini nodded, watching Ivy carefully. “He left you a ring too—something personal. Family heirloom, the documents say.”

Ivy’s eyes welled with unshed tears, but she refused to let them fall. She wasn’t going to cry in front of Gemini—not after everything. “I didn’t know…” Her voice trailed off, filled with confusion and a hint of anger. “Why didn’t he ever say anything? He never told me any of this!”

Gemini leaned back in her chair, her gaze hardening despite her sympathy. “I’m not sure why he didn’t tell you. Maybe he thought you’d be upset or maybe he just didn’t know how to say it. We both know he wasn’t the best at things like that.”

Ivy’s jaw tightened as she set the will back down on the desk, looking at Gemini with a mixture of frustration and sadness. “Yeah, that sounds like him,” she muttered, turning away to look out the window. “I never understood why he couldn’t just…Why everything had to be so damn complicated.”

Gemini swallowed, at a loss for words. A rarity. Ivy shook her head, the pain clear in her expression. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel about any of this.”

“I get it, babe. I really do. He was a pain, and I’m not going to pretend otherwise. But—” She caught herself just as she saw Ivy’s expression harden again, closing herself off.

“I don’t need you to tell me what to feel, Gem. You’ve done enough of that already,” she said, her tone more brittle than before. 

Gemini sighed, leaning forward, her own frustration bubbling to the surface. “Ivy—”

“I gotta go,” said Ivy. “Thanks for informing me. I’ll figure it out.”

Before Gemini could say anything more, Ivy had already stepped out, the door clicking shut behind her. She sat in stunned silence, staring at the empty room. She had wanted to say more, to reach her somehow, but the words felt trapped in her chest. The rift between them continued to germinate, and it seemed no matter how hard she tried,  Ivy was slipping further away.

Gemini leaned back in her chair, exhaling heavily in frustration, her fingers tapping rapidly on the desk. The silence in the room felt heavy with the unshakable tension between her and Ivy, the walls they had both built too high to break down easily.

Needing to clear her head, she decided to leave for her lunch break, grabbing her coat and turning off the lights. The moment she stepped outside the building, the air was cold, the late November weather biting at her skin. She wrapped her coat tighter around herself and began walking to her car, but a strange feeling tugged at her—a sense of being watched. She glanced over her shoulder quickly, but there was no one there.

The street was empty, save for a few passing cars.

Shrugging it off as paranoia, Gemini continued walking, but the feeling persisted. Every step she took felt heavier, more deliberate, as though something—or someone—was just behind her. She stopped at the intersection, glancing behind her again.

Nothing.

She shook her head and continued walking, but her unease only grew stronger, a cold shiver crawling down her spine. When she reached her Mercedes, she fumbled for her keys, quickly unlocking the door and sliding inside. The sense of being followed still gripped her chest, but when she checked the rearview mirror, there was no one there.

She exhaled sharply, gripping the wheel as she stared out the windshield. “I’m losing my shit. Just great,” she muttered to herself, starting the engine. 

But as she drove off into the night, the nagging feeling that she wasn’t alone never quite left her.

Roman leaned back in his leather armrest, the soft expensive material creaking under his weight, his eyes fixated on the darkened windows of Ivy’s house. The house he had once watched from the shadows, studying her every move. A fond, fruitful memory.

He remembered the first night he’d arrived in the neighborhood—the house still empty, the moving truck yet to arrive. The thrill of anonymity had been intoxicating. It had all felt too easy, too perfect, like a symphony waiting to be orchestrated. His house, still almost empty that first week, had been the perfect backdrop to his plans.

He first sighted her in her backyard with little Zaia, the girl running around with their dog, Duchess, all carefree in the evening sun. There was something about the way she doted on her daughter, something warm, almost maternal, that captivated him. And he knew from the start, from the very first moment he saw her, that he would make her his.

But it wasn’t just the motherly affection that drew him in. No, it was the way she carried herself, the subtle grace she exuded. She was beautiful. Perfect face and banging body, with curves her wrap dress woefully failed to hide. He could tell there was a strength beneath her calm exterior, a depth that no one could see unless they truly watched. And he had watched her. Night after night.

At first, it had been about learning her routine—how she left for work, when she came home, the time she spent with Zaia, and the occasional moments when she was home with Angelo. Those nights, when he’d stalk the house like a predator in the shadows, the soft flicker of her bedroom light barely visible. The arguments. The passionate reconciliations. The first time he watched them fuck, a jealousy unlike anything he’d ever felt had ripped through him. Animalistic, raw. It had enraged him, the way Angelo’s touch seemed to have ownership over Ivy, the way she would give herself to him.

Roman gripped the glass harder, his dick rising at the more pleasant memory of watching Ivy, all alone this time, sprawled across her bed as she pleased herself, her body writhing on her soft sheets. It was the night after they first met, and he’d wondered if it was him she was masturbating to. He’d imagined claiming her fully, not just with his eyes, but with his hands, his mouth, his dick, buried in her wet. That jealousy, that hunger for her, had grown, and when Angelo put hands on him, he took action. He was an easy target, as were the brake lines of that jalopy he drove…Roman had made sure there was no coming back from that. That punk bitch was gone, and Roman seized the moment and stepped in, comforting Ivy as she grieved, his presence a soothing balm to her wounds.

Now, she was all his. The fire they shared, the passion—it was everything. Roman had never known anything like it. Each time he lay beside her, the warmth of her body pressed against his…each time he was inside her…he felt…whole. He had won. He had her, and together, they would be the perfect family, the one he’d always dreamed of. Him, Ivy, and Zaia.

But there was yet another fucking thing that threatened to ruin it all: Gemini.

His blood boiled at the thought of her. Poking around, asking questions, getting too close to the truth. Her scathing words had echoed relentlessly in his head since the night of her party, each syllable sharper and more grating than the last:

“I see right through you. You’re not who you pretend you are. I can feel it. You’ve got Ivy and everybody else fooled, but I’m not buying it.”

The nerve of that bitch.

Roman’s jaw clenched as he replayed her smug expression, the way she had stood close, practically taunting him. She hadn’t flinched, hadn’t look away, like she knew she was poking a bear and relished the risk. Gemini wasn’t like the others—she was too observant, too bold. That made her dangerous. Too dangerous to keep around. She didn’t know who she was dealing with. Roman had dealt with people like her before, but this one was persistent. Too persistent.

His mind flashed to the moments when he’d seen her lingering near Ivy, always so observant. So fucking nosy. Well, no more.

She had to go. 

Roman leaned forward in his chair, his eyes narrowing. His plan was already in motion. It would be simple, like all the others. He would make her disappear too, and no one would find her.

He glanced over at the clock, the quiet ticking of time mocking him. Soon. As soon as he dealt with Gemini, everything would be perfect.

Roman’s lips curled into a satisfied smile. He had Ivy and Zaia now, and nothing and nobody would take that from him. Ever.

He stood, his fingers tapping against the window frame as he stared out into the darkness, knowing that soon, very soon, his family would be complete.

And that meddlesome bitch?

She was just another loose end. One he would tie up.

Probably literally.

The morning light filtered through the wide windows of his pristine kitchen island, glinting off his untouched cup of espresso. His focus, however, was entirely on the MacBook before him. Leaning forward, his eyes narrowed like a predator studying its quarry, watching the grainy surveillance footage play out on the laptop screen. 

Gemini moved about her bedroom, oblivious to the camera’s hidden gaze. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he traced her movements, his fingers idly tapping the screen. She thought she was the hunter, investigating him—but Roman always stayed one step ahead. 

Night after night, he would watch her scour through case files, searching through news reports, and any scrap of information to uncover his identity. Her determination was unlike anything he had encountered before, and it unnerved him in a way few things ever had. He needed to act before she finally found something and took it to Ivy—or worse, someone else. Like that lame ass five-0 she was fucking, Hayes. 

He had to hand it to her. Though he had perfected this dance over the years, she was different. Her confidence infuriated him, and some part of him wanted her to know, in her final moments, that she’d been right about him all along.

The smart TV on the kitchen wall murmured in the background, showing a clip of Montez, the distraught fiancé of Bianca Belair who was still missing, pleading for her safe return. Duchess was fast asleep in the conversation pit a few feet away. But it was the lazy clink of cutlery that had his attention. His gaze flicked to his girlfriend, who sat quietly across from him, her fork absently tracing circles through the barely eaten scrambled eggs on her plate. She had been distant for days, her mind clearly elsewhere. Something was weighing heavily on her.

“You’ve been quiet,” Roman said softly, his voice low, filled with a tenderness that Ivy had come to trust. “What’s going on, babe?”

Ivy hesitated, her stomach knotting the way it had for the last few days, since she’d learned of Angelo’s surprising bequest. The weight of it was heavy on her chest and she had kept it to herself until now, unsure of how to even begin processing everything. Roman had been a constant presence since Angelo’s death—strong, supportive, and patient—but this was something that still made her feel vulnerable. 

Roman shut his laptop and motioned her over. “Come here.”

She made her way over to him, allowing him to pull her onto his lap, his forearms winding protectively around her. His lips pressed against her shoulder. “Talk to me,” he whispered.

Ivy sighed heavily and bit the bullet. She’d been carrying this burden alone long enough. “Angelo…he wrote a will,” she began, her voice faltering as she struggled to find the right words. “He…he left things. A house, a trust fund for Zaia, some business stake—things I never thought he’d care enough to leave behind.”

Roman raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt, watching her closely. He knew that whatever Angelo had left wasn’t just about the material things. He could tell that it was something deeper—something Ivy was still trying to understand herself.

“I know what this is about,” he said quietly. “I know it’s not just about what he left. It’s about him—about everything he kept trying to do. Trying to come back into your life even when you told him no.”

Ivy let out a long, quiet breath, her gaze dropping to the counter. “He couldn’t just let it go, Ro. He couldn’t accept that we were done. That we been done for a long time.” Her voice faltered, but she quickly steadied herself. “He kept trying, always trying to force himself back in. And now…now, he’s gone, and he’s left me this…this mess.”

Roman’s gaze never left hers. “I know he wasn’t easy on you, and I know he made things complicated, even when you were doing your best to move forward.” He gently reached out, placing a hand on hers. “But I also know you loved him, at least in your own way. He was Zaia’s father. And now, with all this…stuff he left behind, I can’t imagine how hard it is for you to figure out how to feel about it.”

Ivy’s face was full of vulnerability. “He was a good father to his baby. He really was. I can’t take that away from him. But he kept trying to get back into my life. He was always coming around, always expecting me to give him another chance. And now—after he’s gone—I’m left with all this guilt. I don’t know if I’m supposed to be grateful or angry.”

Roman’s hand tightened around her waist, a reassuring squeeze. “You’re allowed to feel both, Ivy. You can be grateful for the good he did for Zaia, for the father he was, while also being pissed at the way he treated you. You don’t have to choose.”

Ivy swallowed hard, nodding as the weight of his words settled into her chest. “I just…I don’t understand why he didn’t do this sooner. If he really wanted to fix things, if he really wanted to show he cared, why didn’t he do it when I needed him to?” Her voice was a whisper now, as if the thought itself was too much to bear. “Why did he make everything harder for me?”

“Maybe he didn’t know how,” Roman mused. “A lot of people—especially people like Angelo—they don’t know how to express what they really feel until it’s too late. Maybe he didn’t realize it until the end. Maybe he didn’t know how to fix what was broken between you two.”

Ivy shook her head, wiping away a stray tear that had escaped. “But that’s just it, Roman. He never listened. He never saw me. He always just assumed what I wanted, what I needed. And now—now he’s gone. And I’m stuck with all this…uncertainty. I’m stuck with a little girl who won’t understand any of it. And I can’t even process any of this because of the way he kept pulling me back in.”

She had fought so hard to let go of the past, to move on from the chaos Angelo had brought into her life. It wasn’t fair that after all that struggle, this new development was now forcing her to confront everything she had tried to forget. She was trying to build a new future for herself, for Zaia…and possibly Roman…but this…this was a lot to carry.

“Hey,” Roman said gently, squeezing her hand, “Baby, I know you’re angry, and I know you’re hurt. But you’re not alone in this. You’ve got me. You don’t gotta carry all this by yourself. We’ll figure it out together, one step at a time.”

Ivy let out a long breath, her chest rising and falling. She felt exhausted, like the weight of everything had finally caught up with her. But hearing Roman’s words, feeling the warmth of his hand on hers, she knew she wasn’t alone anymore. Maybe she couldn’t control everything—maybe she couldn’t change what Angelo had done—but she could still move forward. She had a choice. And she had Roman.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly as she leaned into him. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Roman smiled softly, caressing her face. “You’ll never have to find out. I’m here, Ivy. I’m here, no matter what.”

Ivy met his gaze, the conflict in her heart still there, but the steady, grounding presence of Roman gave her something she hadn’t had in a long time: a sense of peace. She didn’t have to have all the answers. Not yet. But with him by her side, perhaps she could start to heal.

Roman’s hands gripped the steering wheel, a million thoughts plaguing his mind as he navigated his Range Rover down the suburban streets enroute to Zaia’s elementary school. The sunlight streamed through the windshield, bouncing off his dark Ray-ban Aviators and giving his already cold demeanor an eerie, impersonal sheen. Ivy sat beside him, chattering away, little Zaia in the backseat singing along to the music, some song from Gracie’s Corner, blaring from her iPad. Roman had tuned them both out completely, their cheerful voices nothing but background noise to the storm that had been raging in his mind since Ivy dropped that bombshell on him.

Damn you, Angelo!

He was seething. That fucking bastard’s will felt like a final act of sabotage, the ghost of the past reaching out from beyond the grave to pull Ivy back into a world of chaos he’d worked so hard to shield her from. 

But he wasn’t just angry at Angelo. No. 

He was furious with Gemini for delivering the news. For helping tear open old wounds Ivy had spent years trying to heal from, all in the name of business. A burning rage surged through him. Like Angelo, Gemini had become another anchor Ivy couldn’t free herself from. Another reason for Roman to despise that bitch.

A sudden burst of repetitive, high-pitched music jolted him from his thoughts. Zaia had restarted the same insipid song she’d been playing since they got in the car, the tinny melody grating against his nerves like nails on a chalkboard. Roman’s fingers tightened on the wheel, a muscle twitching in his jaw. The sound seemed to fill every inch of the vehicle, piercing through the thin layer of control he’d been holding onto.

Zaia continued to sing her little heart out as the cheerful tune played on. It was relentless, drilling into Roman’s skull. He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to keep his composure. He glanced in the rearview mirror, catching her innocent, happy expression, one he usually appreciated but now he just couldn’t stand the sight of.

“Little lady,” he began, his voice carefully even, though the tension brewing in him laced every syllable, “you don’t got any other songs?”

Zaia beamed at him. “But it’s my favorite! Don’t you like it?”

He hated it. The tune quickly became a nightmarish loop, and for the first time in hours, his thoughts of Gemini faded—not from guilt or doubt, but from sheer, unrelenting irritation. The song pounded on, and Roman’s fingers tightened on the wheel, his knuckles stretching unnaturally against the black leather.

On the third replay, he snapped.

“Man, turn that shit off!” His voice was a whip, sudden, loud, and vicious.

The car fell into a stunned silence. Zaia’s lip quivered, her breathing pattern changing, quickening, before she burst into tears. 

“Roman!” Ivy exclaimed.

“What I do? I just told her to change the song!”

“I want my daddy!” Zaia wailed.

“That’s too damn bad,” Roman shot back coldly, his deep voice dripping venom as he twisted his head to glare at her. “You ain’t never gon’ see that piece of shit no more cuz he’s dead!”

Ivy’s heart stopped. She turned in her seat, gaping at him in complete shock. “Roman! What the hell is your problem?”

Chastened, he opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off, absolutely livid. “Stop the car. Now.”

“Ivy, I—”

“Stop the damn car!”

Roman exhaled heavily, muttering under his breath as he pulled the SUV to the side of the road. Ivy didn’t wait for the car to come to a full stop before she threw the door open. Her legs were shaky, but her fury propelled her forward. She yanked open the back door, gathered Zaia and her backpack, and marched down the street toward the school building. At the entrance, she set Zaia back down on her feet, but the little girl refused to let go of her, clinging to her neck like a lifeline.

The sight of her daughter’s distress pierced something deep within her soul. Kneeling down, she held her tightly, letting her hold on to her for as long as she needed, even as the school’s morning bell rang around the building, signaling the start of the day.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Ivy murmured softly, her voice laced with guilt. She rubbed Zaia’s back in slow, soothing circles. “Please don’t cry, my snuggle bug.”

Zaia hiccupped through her sobs, her voice trembling and barely audible. “I don’t want Roman to be mad at me, Mama.”

The innocent remark hit Ivy like a punch to the chest, momentarily stealing her breath. It dawned on her that her little girl had grown attached to the big man. She struggled to find the right words to reassure her. “He’s not mad, sweetheart. He’s just…had a tough morning.”

Zaia’s sniffles grew louder, her fresh tears spilling over. She clung to Ivy tightly, her small fingers gripping almost desperately at her mother’s scrubs.

“I miss my daddy,” the little girl whimpered, her words a fragile echo of her broken heart.

“I know, sweetie. I know,” Ivy replied, her voice wavering as she fought back her own tears. She gently cupped Zaia’s face and wiped away the wet streaks with her thumbs. “It’s okay to miss him. But guess what? He’s watching over you in Heaven. He'll always be in your heart, okay?”

But even as she tried to console her daughter, Ivy’s mind raced. Zaia’s distress gnawed at her. How could she send her baby into school like this? Would it even be fair to ask her to focus, to pretend everything was fine when it so clearly wasn’t? The uncertainty weighed heavily on Ivy’s shoulders, even as she pulled Zaia into another hug, pressing a soft kiss to her curls. 

“Little lady?”

At the sound of his voice, Ivy glared up at Roman’s approaching figure, his face a mix of remorse and something she couldn’t quite name. She tensed, shielding her baby girl with her body. “What do you want?”

“I just…I want to apologize,” he said, his expression soft and remorseful. “Ivy, please. I was wrong. Let me make up for it.”

Ivy studied him warily before giving a reluctant nod. “Fine. But you’d better mean it.”

She didn’t take her eyes off Roman as he crouched down to Zaia’s level, his chiseled face drawn with regret. “Hey, little lady,” he said gently, his voice soft, almost tender. “I am so sorry for yelling at you. I didn’t mean to, but I was wrong to do that. Can you forgive me? I’ll never do it again, I promise.”

Rubbing her nose, Zaia looked to Ivy for approval, and Ivy, despite her better judgment, gave the go ahead with a short nod. 

“Okay. I forgive you,” Zaia answered, her smile small and watery.

Roman smiled back, his features awash with relief as he hugged her tight. “Thank you, Zaia.” He tapped her little nose playfully. “Tell you what, how about we get some ice cream after school? Just you, me, and Mommy. Wherever you want, and whatever flavors you want. That sound good?”

It was a winning bargain, as Zaia instantly brightened and she nodded eagerly, throwing her arms around his neck in another big, warm hug. Waving goodbye to the two adults, she spun around and zoomed off through the doors of the school. Roman smiled at her retreating figure, but when he turned back to her mom, the look in his eyes was more pleading than apologetic.

Ignoring him, Ivy kept her distance all the way back to the car. The moment the doors were shut, she exploded.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Roman? She’s a child!” she yelled.

Roman’s jaw ticked. He rubbed his face and exhaled a shaky breath. “You…you wouldn’t understand.”

“What’s there to understand? You fucking yelled at my daughter! You think I’m gonna let that slide?” she snapped, her anger barely contained. “Gemini warned me about this. To think I keep defending your ass, only for her to be right. This is how you really are!”

“No it’s not, I swear!”

“Then tell me what’s wrong! You've been acting up all week! Something is up with you and I wanna know what it is! And don’t lie to me!”

He hesitated, then dropped his gaze. “Okay then. Here’s the truth.” He swallowed hard. “Today…marks a year since…since Elesha died.”

Ivy blinked, her fury momentarily giving way to surprise. She hadn’t expected that. Her scowl softened, though her wariness persisted. “I’m sorry, Roman. I can’t imagine how hard that must be. But that don’t mean you get to take it out on Zaia or be an asshole to me. If being with me, being with us, is triggering you, just say so. If it’s too much—”

“It’s not too much,” he said quickly, his voice breaking. “Ivy, I swear to you, it’s not. Don’t ever blame yourself for my fuckup. I’m just…I’ve been trying, really trying, to process it all.” He looked at her, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Everything’s happened so fast. Losing her, moving here and meeting you…My feelings for you are so strong, and it scares the shit outta me cuz I don’t wanna lose you too.”

His vulnerability struck her like a tidal wave, raw and unguarded in a way that left her breathless. Roman looked shattered, the weight of his emotions carved into every line of his beautiful face. She hesitated, her own walls trembling, before gently resting her hand against his cheek. Her voice, barely more than a whisper, trembled with conviction.  

“Babe, you’re not gonna lose me. I only just found you,” she said. “I told you before. I’m here for you Roman, just like you are for me. I just need you to stop bottling things up and talk to me.”

A fragile, watery smile curved his lips, but it couldn’t mask the storm raging in his eyes. He leaned into her touch, his forehead resting against hers as though she was the only anchor he had left. For one brief, stolen moment, the chaos around them stilled.  

“I don’t deserve you,” he rasped, his voice thick with anguish. “I don’t know how to be without you. You’ve made my life worth something again—you and Zaia. I’m so sorry I snapped at her…Please, Ivy. I know I messed up…Don’t leave me. I need you.”  

Her chest constricted, the ache in his voice cutting through her like glass. The desperation in his gaze was a dagger, and despite every reason to walk away, she couldn’t. Because whatever doubts had begun to creep into the edges of her mind paled in comparison to what she was starting to feel for him. She was painfully aware of how hard, how undeniably she had fallen for him too, and it was in equal parts terrifying and exhilarating.  

Her fingers traced his jaw, her own tears threatening to spill. “I accept your apology,” she whispered, moved enough by the emotions pulsing between them to seal her words with a gentle kiss that tasted of unspoken vows and quiet redemption. “And I’m not going anywhere,” she murmured, kissing his forehead as well, her voice steady even as her heart thundered, even as the doubt lingered. “I promise.” 

“You sure you don’t want me to come over? I can leave this function that I’m at. We can just kick it for a lil’ bit.”

Gemini smiled into the phone, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger. “Thanks, Melo, but I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“So you don’t wanna see me? Damn, ma,” Carmelo sighed, the smooth baritone of his voice sending a delicious shiver down her spine. She knew he meant well, but the last thing she wanted was for him to worry about her more than he already did.

“Of course I wanna see you. I always do,” she insisted, her voice gentle and assured. “I just don’t want you feeling like you have to drop everything for me.”

“I know I don’t have to,” he replied, his tone laced with a quiet insistence. “But I want to. That’s different.”

She bit her lip, her gaze drifting to the window. The evening’s shadows stretched across her home, her reflection faint against the glass. His words warmed her, tugging at something she didn’t want to admit she’d missed—feeling cared for, wanted...a lover’s touch.

“I appreciate it,” she said softly, letting her guard down just a little. “But I promise, tonight is just about me catching up on work. Nothing to stress over.”

Carmelo was silent for a moment, and she could almost picture the wheels turning in his head. “A’ight,” he said finally, though the hesitation in his voice lingered. “But if anything changes—if you need me, or if you just feel like some company—holla at me and I’ll be right over. No questions asked.”

Gemini couldn’t help but smile again. He always knew how to walk that fine line between protective and overbearing, never crossing it, even when she pushed him away. “I’ll hold you to that,” she teased lightly. “But seriously, don’t let me mess up your evening. Have fun.”

“You know my nights ain’t the same without you, right?” His voice was teasing, but she could hear the undercurrent of truth in it. Her stomach fluttered, making her shy in a way only he could. 

“You’re smooth as fuck, you know that?” she giggled.

“Nah, I’m just honest. That’s why you like me so much. But I’ll let you get back to it—for now.” There was a smile in his voice now, and it made her chest ache in the best way.

“Goodnight, Officer Hayes,” she whispered.

“Goodnight, Miss Beaufort, Esquire. Don’t work too hard now, okay?”

She nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “I’ll try.” And as the call ended, she found herself staring at her phone, wondering just how much longer she could keep her guard up around someone who made her feel so safe, so…loved.

Sighing heavily, she refocused on the legal briefs and deposition notes scattered across her table. The phone call was a distraction, a brief escape from the mind-numbing class action case she was working on, but boredom gave way to curiosity as a notification popped up in her email, the logo of the dark website she frequented glowing on her laptop screen.

Her gaze was locked on the unopened documents. Tagged Psycho Hottie: The Coral Lake Butcher, the post drew her in with its absurd title. She clicked out of boredom, expecting yet another bizarre story or twisted fantasy from the forum’s strange array of users. Instead, she was staring into the face of someone she knew.

Roman.

There was no mistaking the sharp cheekbones, the slanted eyes, the smirk that always hovered at the edge of his lips. It was him—or at least it looked exactly like him.

Her stomach knotted as she clicked on the article accompanying the sketch. Published two months ago, the headline was simple but chilling:

Her eyes flicked down to the grainy mugshot embedded in the article, and her breath caught in her throat. It was Roman, no question about it. Shorter hair, but the same dark intensity in his eyes, the same chiseled, angular face. But the name was different. Roman Reigns was what Ivy called him. Mateo Hobbs was what the Floridian police called him.

The text beneath the mugshot only worsened her unease.

It has been nearly a year since Mateo Hobbs escaped police custody following his arrest for the brutal murders of his wife, Elesha Hobbs, and her alleged boyfriend, Tama Tonga. At the time of her death, Elesha was four months pregnant.

Witnesses reported seeing Hobbs flee from the Pensacola police precinct three days after his arraignment. He was awaiting formal charges when he disappeared.

Since his escape, Hobbs has been linked to a string of homicides along the Florida coast, with most victims being female sex workers in their twenties and early thirties.

Her blood cold, Gemini scrolled down, and her heart nearly stopped when she saw the photograph of his wife.

Fuck.

She looked just like Ivy.

The resemblance was uncanny—same smooth, deep brown skin, same pretty almond-shaped eyes, same slim thick figure. Roman had a type, it seemed, and Ivy fit it perfectly.

The article went on to describe his other possible victims. Young, beautiful women in their twenties or thirties. Throats slit. The pattern was clear, and Gemini’s mind immediately flashed to Rhea and Bianca.

Rhea, a pregnant woman. Her throat, brutally cut, several weeks ago. Another woman, Bianca, had disappeared shortly after. Probably dead, too. Both of them, as the Hartford Police discovered, were sex workers outside their day jobs, with Rhea an OnlyFans model and Bianca an escort. One woman from Middlesex and another from Fairfax, two towns en route to Hartford, died the exact same way Rhea did a couple of months ago. This felt like the markings of a serial killer, and Gemini had little doubt that Roman—no, Mateo—was responsible.

And then there was Angelo.

Gemini’s hand flew to her mouth as it hit her like a ton of bricks. Angelo had died in a car crash not long after Roman came into the picture. Everyone had assumed it was a tragic accident, but now Gemini could see the truth, almost clear as day. Roman had probably followed Angelo to that bar. Tampered with the brakes that had mysteriously failed.

Roman killed him.

She felt a wave of nausea but pushed it down, forcing herself to focus.

The article ended with a warning:

“Hobbs is considered armed and extremely dangerous. If sighted, do not approach. Contact law enforcement immediately on these numbers...”

But Gemini didn’t have time for law enforcement. Ivy didn’t have time for law enforcement.

Her hands moved on autopilot as she clicked “Print,” the printer spitting out page after page of damning evidence. She grabbed the stack and stuffed it into her bag, her thoughts racing.

“You’re always looking for problems where there aren’t any! Roman’s been nothing but good to me. Just because you don’t trust anyone doesn’t mean I should be the same!”

She and Ivy had barely spoken in weeks, but Gemini didn’t care. Her best friend’s life was on the line. She shoved her phone into her bag and bolted for the door. She had to get to Ivy. Immediately. 

Her mind was a chaotic mix of fear and determination. Would Ivy even listen? Or would she laugh off Gemini’s warning again?

It didn’t matter.

She wasn’t going to let Ivy end up like Roman’s wife, like Rhea, like Bianca, all those other women. And she wasn’t going to let Zaia grow up without a mother. Not when she no longer had a father, probably thanks to him.

She’d been suspicious about that monster ever since he stepped foot in Ivy’s house that night, sensing something off about his charm, his intensity, the way he inserted himself so seamlessly into Ivy’s life. And now she knew why.

She had to stop him.

The night air was cold as she stepped out of her house and rushed to her Mercedes. The air outside was eerily quiet. Too quiet. It was then she realized how empty her street was. No, it was more than empty - it was deserted. Worse, she felt like she was being watched even though nobody else seemed to be around. The stillness was oppressive. Not just silence, but wrong silence—the kind that seemed to buzz in her ears like a phantom noise, amplifying every beat of her heart.

And yet…something deep in her gut told her yet again that she wasn’t completely alone.

Gemini glanced down the street again, her unease mounting with every passing second. The dim, flickering streetlights cast jagged shadows that seemed to stretch and reach for her. Uncharacteristically spooked, she started to open her car door.

She froze, her mouth slowly falling open in horror.

Roman stood across the street, mere meters from her home, a black hoodie over his head. He wasn’t moving, but the intensity of his stare felt like a physical force, pinning her to the spot. Gemini’s breath hitched, her body going completely numb with terror. She tried to scream, but no sound came. Her throat was void, and terror was the only thing filling it. 

Fuck, the word tumbled through her mind, frantic and desperate, Fuck, fuck, fuck!

She squeezed her eyes shut, praying to God that she would open her eyes and it would be nothing more than a hallucination. Maybe it was a trick of the dim light. Maybe she’d open her eyes and find the street as empty as it had been moments ago. 

But when she dared to look again, Roman was moving. Striding towards her with deliberate, predatory determination.

At this, Gemini’s paralysis finally snapped. Her brain finally gave her legs permission to move, and she spun on her heel and bolted, her feet pounding against the pavement as she raced for her front door. Her bag bounced wildly against her side, her breath bursting in shallow, ragged gasps.

The edge of the pathway betrayed her. Her toe caught in the stone step, and she tumbled forward, crashing hard to the ground. A sharp burst of pain flared through her knee and palms as they scraped painfully against the concrete, but adrenaline surged through her veins, propelling her back to her feet.

Her house loomed ahead, so close, but yet so far. She fumbled with her bag, her injured fingers trembling as she rifled through it for her keys.

But Roman was fast. Quarterback fast. In an instant, he was behind her, his body slamming into hers and pinning her against the door with his entire two hundred plus pound frame. Her cheek pressed against the cold wood, causing a strangled cry to escape her lips.

“Where ya goin’, huh?” His voice was deep, terrifying, and far too close to her ear. His breath was hot against her skin. “You think you can run from me, bitch?”

Terror clawed at her throat, but through the fog of panic, she remembered - the can of Mace buried in her bag that Melo gave to her. Forcing herself to concentrate, Gemini discreetly dug her hand into her bag, feeling for the small, cylindrical lifeline.

Roman grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head back, forcing her to meet his wild, hate-filled glare. Pain shot through her scalp and tears sprang to her eyes, but she didn’t let go of the Mace.

With a burst of defiance and a quick twist of her arm, she whipped the can up and aimed. A sharp hiss filled the air as the spray found his mark. 

“Arrrrgh!” Roman cried out in pain, clutching his face as he stumbled back. His curses rang in Gemini’s ears, but she didn’t waste a second. The keys were in her hand now, and she jammed them into the lock with shaking fingers. The door gave way at last, but just as she made to slam it shut behind her, Roman charged, tackling her to the ground in a vicious spear that almost broke her body in two. The impact knocked the wind out of her lungs, the back of her head hitting the hard floor, and she was sure she was concussed. Roman pounced, straddling her waist, pressing one hand against her throat as he held her down. His face, usually handsome and composed, was like something out of a horror film, his eyes wild and filled with hatred and madness. 

There he is…I knew it…

Grabbing Gemini by the hair, Roman stumbled to his feet and dragged her past the foyer, her desperate cries swallowed by the echoing silence of the house. Her nails clawed at his sleeved arms, her legs kicking wildly, the polished floor chafing uncomfortably against her skin. Her struggles were futile—Roman was too strong, his grip vice-like and unyielding. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the blinking red lights that should have been on the overhead cameras were gone. Disabled. By him, surely. He’d been in her house before, probably scouted her out in preparation for this day. Her heart sank as it dawned on her that no one would witness her futile fight for her life. 

As they reached the kitchen, Roman lifted her bodily off her feet, throwing her against the counter. Gemini hit the table spine-first, sending her crashing painfully to the ground.

“You just can’t leave shit alone, can you?” Roman snarled, his breath coming out in short bursts, his rage barely contained, “Always sticking your fucking nose where it don’t belong!”

Gemini gasped through her tears, scrambling to get away, but Roman easily caught up to her retreating form.

“I’m so fuckin’ sick of your shit,” he snarled, his voice venomous and trembling with fury as he stomped on her right leg with brute force. 

The crack of her bone echoed sickeningly all around the kitchen. Gemini screamed, the sound animalistic and blood-curdling, but it barely registered in the lifeless air. Pain surged through her body like wildfire, reducing her fight to pitiful spasms.

Roman’s handsome face twisted in a grotesque mask of a set and satisfaction. Slipping on a pair of black gloves, he crouched down beside her, tilting his head as though appraising a broken toy.

“Not so mouthy now, huh, bitch,” he taunted.

“P-Please…please don’t do this, Roman,” Gemini sobbed, clutching at her shattered leg. 

“Learn to shut the fuck up for once in your goddamn life,” he growled, his voice low and terrifying as he pulled out a knife from his pocket.

The blade flashed in the dim light, and before Gemini could process the motion, the cold steel sliced across her throat. Her scream died a gruesome death, a wet, choking gasp accompanying the blood pouring from the gaping wound. She tried to speak, to beg for what was left of her life, but all that came out was a pathetic, gargled noise.

Roman was on a roll, his chest heaving as he paced in circles around her twitching body.

“Stay the fuck outta my business, you nosy bitch! Ivy is mine!” he roared, pointing at himself. “She belongs to me! Ain’t nobody gon’ take her from me, not even you, you understand me, you-”

Lifting his right leg off the ground, he slammed it back down, a brutal stomp of his foot to her face following each word.

“Worthless!” Stomp.

“Fucking!” Stomp. 

“Bitch!” 

The awful sound of bone crunching filled the room. When he moved his foot, he saw that Gemini had gone stock-still. Her face was unrecognizable, her blood spreading in dark rivulets across the vinyl plank flooring.

Roman stood over her, his fists clenched and trembling as the red fog of rage cleared from his brain. The silence in the kitchen was deathly, deafening, broken only by his labored breathing. He looked down at the mangled, lifeless corpse, his nose wrinkling in disgust at the mess of bone, flesh and blood pooled around his feet, staining his black Air Forces.

“Goddamn it,” he sucked his teeth, wiping a hand in frustration across his sweaty forehead.

It wasn't supposed to go like this. Gemini was supposed to stay out of it, to leave him and Ivy alone. But her dumbass couldn’t. And now, he had another body to clean up.

But it was worth it, because no one would interfere with their love anymore. 

Ivy was all his now. Forever. Just like she promised him.

And he planned on holding her to that promise.

😬😬😬

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[sophsbookstore]

Cookies Included

Auston Matthews x reader ｡･:*˚:✧｡

Word count: 1500

A/N: posting all my hockey drafts! NHL master list (hopefully) come soon

Auston Matthews was in the kitchen, trying his best to look serious as he watched you roll out dough for the cookies. You were wearing one of his old jerseys—an oversized, cozy thing—and you looked so focused that it made Auston grin despite his best efforts to look like he was helping.

“You know, I can’t believe you’re making all of these,” he said, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, but his eyes never left you. “You're going to make me the most popular guy on the plane. I’ll have everyone on the team eating out of my hand with these.”

You shot him a playful look over your shoulder. “You know, it’s not just about getting you brownie points with the guys. I’ve been practicing these recipes, and I want them to be perfect.”

Auston’s face lit up. “So you’re baking for me, then?”

You giggled, turning to face him. “Well, I’m baking for you, but you’ll have to share with your teammates. No choice there, Mr. Popular.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re making me share your cookies? I feel like that’s a crime.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love a little attention,” you teased, rolling the dough out with the kind of precision that spoke to your inner perfectionist. “Besides, you know you’ll look good bringing these snacks Matthews.”

His lips curled into a grin. “I always look good, what are you talking about?”

You were in the middle of cutting out the first batch of cookies when Auston stepped up behind you. His broad chest was warm against your back, and he placed his hands on the counter, peering over your shoulder. “I’m really good at decorating, you know. I could help with that part.”

You snorted, unable to hold it in. “Oh, yeah? I’m sure your ‘skills’ could rival those of a professional pastry chef.”

“Hey, I’ve got an eye for detail,” he said, his tone playful but feigning confidence. “Watch and learn.”

You handed him a piping bag filled with icing and grinned. “Alright, show me what you got, Matthews.”

Auston took the bag and squeezed it, but the icing didn’t come out in the neat little swirl he was hoping for. Instead, it splattered across the cookie in a way that could only be described as abstract art.

He glanced at you with wide eyes. “Huh.”

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “That’s... not exactly what I envisioned when I asked for ‘decorating help.’ But nice try.”

Auston gave you a sheepish smile and then leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “Okay, fine. I might not be a decorator, but I’m a pro at eating them. So, I’ll leave the fancy stuff to you. I’ll just be your official taste tester.”

“You can taste-test all you want, but you’re not getting out of this,” you replied with a smirk as you skillfully decorated the next batch of cookies, leaving the ones he had touched to the side. “You’re still helping me. You’ve got two hands, Auston. Use them.”

“I’ll use one hand for icing, and the other hand for… well, more eating.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you, causing your cheeks to heat up, though you tried to keep a straight face.

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

He just chuckled, stepping back to give you room to finish the batch. “It’s hard to resist when I’ve got such a cute baker in front of me.”

You looked up at him through your lashes, feeling your heart race a little. “Are you flirting with me while covered in icing?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Auston said with a wink. “But seriously, you look adorable, even when you’re criticizing my decorating skills.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you suddenly felt shy under his gaze. “Stop being so charming,” you said, trying to focus on piping icing onto the last batch of cookies. “You’re making it hard to concentrate.”

He grinned like he knew exactly what he was doing. “You’re welcome.”

After a while, the cookies were ready. You’d decorated them with a mix of simple designs and some that were a little more chaotic thanks to Auston’s input. The cookies were definitely an interesting mix of perfectly neat and totally offbeat. But you’d made them with love, and that was what mattered.

Auston packed them up carefully, grabbing the container and wrapping it up in cling wrap. “Alright, time to go. I’ve got a plane to catch and a team of hungry guys waiting for these. Let’s just hope they’re good enough to forgive the, uh, artistic choices we made.”

“They’ll love them,” you said, your confidence back. “They may look weird, but they’ll taste amazing. I’m not saying I’m a genius, but I know what I’m doing in the kitchen.”

“Just like you know what you’re doing to my heart, huh?” Auston shot you a playful wink as he lifted the container with one hand.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile. “Okay, smooth talker. Go give the guys their cookies before you get too cocky.”

Auston leaned down, pressing a kiss to your cheek before heading toward the door. “I’ll text you after the game. Promise I’ll save a couple for us when I get back.”

“Don’t you dare eat all of them,” you called after him with a laugh.

“I can’t make any promises,” he teased back, his voice fading as he walked out of the apartment, leaving you with a smile that stayed with you long after he was gone.

The next day, you were pacing around your kitchen, anxiously waiting for a message from Auston. He’d landed in Boston, played his game, and was probably having fun with the guys. You had a feeling that they were probably getting a kick out of the cookies.

Sure enough, your phone buzzed, and you grabbed it eagerly.

Auston:They taste amazing, but I’m pretty sure half of them look like they belong in a modern art museum. I think Mitch is planning to hang one on the wall.

You laughed out loud, shaking your head as you typed back.

You’re welcome. I’m just happy they didn’t taste like a disaster. At least they won’t be getting bored with plain old chocolate chip cookies.

A few seconds later, the phone buzzed again.

Auston:You’d be amazed how many times we’ve joked about how much your cookies look like a Picasso painting. But seriously, the guys all loved them. I’ll bring some back for you. Promise.

You better, Matthews. Those cookies didn’t make themselves.

Auston:I know. I’ll never question your baking skills again.

You smiled to yourself, feeling warm inside. The night was still young, but you could already tell that it was going to be a great one—cookies, playful banter, and the thought of Auston coming home to you later made the wait feel worth it.

When Auston finally returned, a few days later, you were sitting on the couch, waiting for him. The door swung open, and he stepped inside, holding a bag of leftover cookies. He immediately dropped it on the table and came over to give you a tight hug.

“You look good, babe,” he murmured into your hair, his arms strong around you. “Missed you.”

You pulled away, grinning. “Missed you too, but I’m more excited for these cookies.”

Auston laughed, grabbing the bag from the table and handing it over. “I was almost going to eat them all on the flight home. But I’m a man of my word, so here you go.”

You eagerly opened the bag, pulling out one of the cookies that had survived the trip back. You inspected it carefully, noting that it was one of the more... experimental ones. “Hmm. This one looks like it was decorated by a toddler.”

Auston chuckled. “We can thank Mitch for that one. He said he’d hang it on the wall for me.”

You took a bite, and your eyes widened. “Okay, okay. I’ll admit it—these might actually be your best work.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re happy I brought them back,” Auston said, sitting down beside you. He raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe because you just love me that much.”

You bumped him with your shoulder. “Maybe a little bit of both. But seriously, next time you decorate, let’s just stick to the simple designs.”

“I’ll consider it,” he said with a wink, pulling you close. “But only because it’s you.”

You smiled, leaning into him, the warmth of his arms and the sugary sweetness of the cookies making everything feel perfect.

“Good thing I’m so irresistible,” he added with a smirk, and you rolled your eyes.

“You’re lucky you're cute.”

“Lucky? I’m a hockey player. We’re basically all good-looking by default.”

You laughed, leaning up to kiss him. “I’ll take your word for it. Now, let’s finish these cookies.”

Auston grinned, wrapping his arm around you, his focus on the cookies fading as he pulled you closer.

"You're all I need, cookies included."

[luffington]

OMG im obsessed with the fic with Cora and Doffy X Reader! i was wondering if i could request just Corazon X Reader? im absolutely crazy about the idea of sweet Cora having those repressed sadistic urges, and his struggle with wanting to be soft and kind, but cant help liking the darker and meaner, its just. UGH SO GOOD

Maybe the reader could have picked up on that a bit and is teasing him into giving in to those urges (which they're totally into lol)

Also i love your fics sm! keep up the great work <3

✧.* art credit!

➤ pairing: donquixote rosinante (corazon) x gn!reader

➤ word count: 1.3k

➤ warnings: dom!corazon, possessive!corazon, dacryphilia, oral (m receiving), praise kink, established relationship, fem reader

RIGHT ITS SUCH A GOOD CONCEPT!!! we barely know anything about cora outside of what law experienced and we'll probably never find out more so.... character interpretation!

my first draft of this had a paragraph where the reader acted bratty to try to coax out his mean side and he almost starting crying.... i took it out because i couldn't do that to him (ㅠ‸ㅠ)

this ended up being pretty similar to the other fic (read here) but i hope you like it!

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Corazon was the sweetest man you’d ever met. Sure, he was a master of deception – hiding his Devil Fruit powers and tricking his brother into trusting him was definitely not an easy feat. His anger issues could use some work, even though the reasons behind his outrage were always justified. But his loving personality and strong sense of morality were very real.

He never doubted your kind heart, either. You had joined the Donquixote Family simply because you had no other options, and dealing with his crazy older brother was better than starving on the streets. Corazon was able to relax around you, be silly and affectionate without being judged by his cold-hearted coworkers, and finally speak after long stretches of staying silent.

But there was more to him.

Doflamingo seemed to be the black sheep based on what little you knew about the biological Donquixotes. A rare case of madness in an otherwise well-intentioned family. However, the brothers still shared the same genes and the same horrific childhood. And even though Corazon never discussed his experiences in the Navy, he certainly witnessed terrible things that still weighed on his mind.

Your boyfriend tried his best to keep any deep-rooted darkness away from you, but it was unhealthy for him to repress every negative emotion. You wanted him to feel comfortable around you. He didn’t need to be an angel all the time.

One time, the eternally clumsy blonde almost fell trying to hover above you in bed. Not wanting to crush you with his ten-foot tall body, he caught himself by grabbing your arm. Hard. You squeaked in surprise and he immediately apologized, but dark blue fingerprint-shaped bruises stained your skin by the end of the night.

Early the next morning, when he thought you were still asleep, he lightly traced the marks over and over. You caught him staring at them throughout the day, too, looking more intrigued than upset. He littered your neck, chest, and thighs with hickies the next time you fucked, and you realized inflicting pain wasn’t what turned him on – he didn’t want to hurt you, he wanted to mark you. Those were his fingerprints on your arm.

So much was taken away from him at a young age that of course he wanted to claim you as his own. Hickies were more conventionally sexy than bruises, so he was less ashamed about admiring them in front of you and telling you how pretty you look. Even gently rubbing a large one on your neck during a Family meeting, which made his brother huff and tell you to get a room. Corazon did get a room after that – pulled you aside into a private bathroom and fucked you against the sink while making you stare at yourself in the mirror. Whispering in a deep voice about how the color of your hickies matched his plum-colored lipstick.

A few weeks later, he came home in the middle of the night after being away on a mission with Diamante and Trebol for nearly a week. Thunder boomed outside the window and his feathery black coat left behind a trail of rainwater as he stumbled into your shared room. His tall frame visibly shook with anger, his dark sunglasses barely covered the fury burning in his eyes. You got out of bed to greet him and asked how the operation went, but he just pulled you into a very wet hug and mumbled, “I don’t want to think about it ever again.” 

You blinked slowly and whispered, “I can help you forget.”

The blonde threw his half-burned cigarette to the floor then smashed his lips against yours. He didn’t bother taking the time to build up to a heated kiss. Immediately biting your lower lip raw before pushing his long tongue inside your mouth. Your eyes fluttered shut, easily submitting and letting him take whatever he wanted from you. The smell of smoke caught both of your attention. Corazon instinctively stomped out the cigarette ashes smoldering on the throw rug without tearing away from the kiss for even a moment. 

“Let me use you.” He looked as desperate as he sounded. “Just for tonight, can you be my little doll? I’ll make it up to you later, I promise, I’ll be so good to you.” Heat shot straight to your core and you nodded fervently, clutching onto his drenched clothes like your life depended on it.

Which is how you ended up with his lengthy cock down your throat, your bare ass in the air and body wedged between his sprawled-out legs. Calloused fingers tangled in your hair to firmly guide you up and down. Graciously giving you time to relax by letting you swirl your tongue around the swollen tip, though he never pulled you entirely off his dick. He looked so pretty like this – damp hair clinging to his forehead, pale cheeks turned pretty pink, subtly squirming on the mattress, pupils fully blown out with lust. 

Corazon suddenly thrust upwards to hear you gag, several inches of his cock forcing their way into your tight throat. Tiny teardrops reflexively lined your eyes as your gag reflex kicked in. You expected the blonde to panic and immediately stop – even though it was just your body’s natural reaction and you were enjoying every second. But instead, he licked his lips like he wanted to devour you. 

There were those Doflamingo genes.

But unlike his selfish brother, Corazon asked if you were comfortable with everything happening for the second time that night. You gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up, obviously unable to verbally confirm with his dick stretching your mouth to its limit. His cock drooled salty precum onto your tongue as thick globs of your drool dripped down to his balls. 

You used both hands to stroke the rest of his length that couldn’t fit in your mouth – the huge man had a huge dick to match. Corazon swatted them away, held your wrists in one giant hand then pushed down hard until every inch of him was deep in your throat, messy blonde pubes tickling your nose. He was glad he set up a sound barrier, otherwise the entire Family would’ve heard the debauched moan that spilled from his lips.

After a few moments of admiring you and the prominent bulge in your throat, your boyfriend released you just before it became too much. “Good girl,” Corazon panted with a dazed smile. “Such a good girl, taking it all like you’re supposed to.”

He gave up trying to hold back after that, bucking his hips against your face and rambling about how pretty and perfect you looked like this. He pressed your head all the way down again just before he hit his peak, shooting a large load of cum directly into your stomach. When he saw your ruined state, a dark pit formed in his stomach. Tears stained your cheeks and spit dripped down your chin as you gasped for air, and he was turned on by it. 

Corazon quickly pulled you close to press soft kisses against your cheek and make sure you were okay. Nothing you said seemed to convince him, so you brought his hand between your thighs. When he swiped a finger through your folds, his eyes widened at how wet you were. He admired the way your sticky juices webbed between his digits, then immediately began toying with your cunt.

“I would’ve stopped you if you didn’t like it,” you grinned, shamelessly rutting against the palm of his hand. “Ruin me with your cock more. I’ll be a good toy for you.”

Corazon gulped, stomach fluttering with sinful excitement. “O-Okay, if… if you’re sure that’s what you want.”

Both of you knew he wanted it more than anything.

[colouredbyd]

The Nightingale: The Volunteer

Regulus Black x fem!reader Hunger Games AU

summary: She was thirteen when her name was called. He was fourteen when he took her place. Now, years later, she’s standing there again as tribute of the 70th Hunger Games.

warnings: emotional vulnerability, mentions of injuries, physical exhaustion, corrupted goverment, talks of death, mentions of weapons, typical hunger games violence. hurt/comfort childhood friends to strangers to lovers trope

word count: 5.3k

authors note: okay so here is part 1 of my new series The Nightingale. I have mostly all the parts written and drafted and i cant wait to post them!! this ones probably my favourite work and i hope you all love it 🌷💖

next part series masterlist main masterlist

The 65th Hunger Games

“May the odds be ever in your favor!”

They say it like a promise. Like a prayer. As if luck can shield you from the way a name sounds when it’s yours. As if odds have hearts to sway or hands to hold. But the odds have never favored girls with music in their bones or boys with shadows stitched to their heels. Not in District 7. Not in a world where survival is currency and love is a liability.

My name was still ringing through the square when he said it.

“I volunteer.”

Two words. A blade through the silence. He said it like it hurt. Like it was the only thing he’d ever meant. I turned, too slow, too stunned, just in time to see the peacekeepers pull him away—too young, too slight, too sure. Fourteen and already breaking for me. He didn’t look back. Not once. That was the worst part. Like if he looked, he’d stay. Like if he stayed, he’d shatter.

They asked him for his name. And when he gave it, the crowd swallowed it whole.

Regulus Black, District 7. Volunteer.

He gave them his body. He gave them his future. And all I could do was stand there with my name still echoing through the cold. All I could do was live.

And I’ve been paying for that mercy ever since.

District 7 was not made for softness. It bore no patience for delicate things, no mercy for children with bright eyes or steady dreams. The forest ruled us long before the Capitol did. Trees older than our blood whispered warnings in the wind, and if you didn’t learn how to listen, you disappeared. Splinters and silence shaped us more than schooling ever could.

Our homes were wooden, creaking things. Roofs that leaked in the spring, floors that sang in the winter, walls thin enough to hear your neighbor crying through. We were born with sawdust in our lungs and calluses on our hands. Most children learned how to swing an axe before they could write their names. Hunger made us practical. So did grief.

But even here, where beauty withered quickly, I learned to sing.

Not loudly, not for attention. Never in the open air, where the wrong ears could turn anything tender into a weapon. I sang in the moments in between — under my breath while stacking bark, or alone beneath the hanging branches of the sycamores. My voice belonged to no one but the trees and the boy who found me.

Regulus Black.

He wasn’t from my part of the district. He didn’t have the look of the lumber families. His hands weren’t made for chopping, but for stringing arrows. He was quick-footed, sharp-eyed. Quiet in the way that felt like a storm waiting to happen. The first time I saw him, he was crouched by a stream, soaking a cut on his palm, face turned to the sky as if listening for something.

I sang that day without meaning to. Just a soft hum carried on the wind.

He didn’t move, didn’t look at me. But when I paused, he said, “Don’t stop.”

That was how it began.

We weren’t quite friends at first. We were survivors in the same stretch of woods, careful not to scare each other off. He taught me which berries not to eat. I showed him how to twist pine needles into thread. He hunted. I sang. He used silence like a blade, and I used music like a balm. Somehow, between stolen hours and shared shelters, we made something sacred.

I learned he had a brother, though he rarely spoke of him. I learned that he hated the sound of axes. I learned that no one taught him to shoot — he taught himself, because no one else would.

He learned that my mother once sang lullabies before her voice gave out. He learned that I dreamed of light, of being heard. He learned that my hands shook when I was afraid, and I was afraid often.

We made a hideout deep in the woods, past the northern logging zone where few dared to go. It was barely a lean-to of branches and tattered cloth, but to us it was untouchable. Safe. He carved my name into the bark of the tree beside it, tiny and crooked. I braided wildflowers into his sleeve when spring came.

He never asked me to stop singing.

He said once that my voice made the forest feel alive again. That it reminded him of the world before it became cruel. I told him his arrows did the same. We didn’t say it aloud, but we were everything to each other. When the world took and took, we found ways to give.

Regulus was the only boy I knew who looked at the stars like they owed him something. He wasn’t reckless. He was angry in a quiet, careful way. The Capitol hadn’t taken everything from him yet, and so he fought in the only ways he knew how. He hunted for food he’d pretend he hadn’t found. He watched Peacekeepers with a stillness that bordered on dangerous. He protected me without saying the word protect.

I remember one night, cold enough that my breath came out in clouds, I asked him if he thought we’d ever get out. He didn’t answer right away. He just handed me a sliver of wood he had carved into the shape of a bird.

“When you fly,” he said, “take me with you.”

I wanted to believe we would stay like that forever. Two ghosts beneath the trees, untouched by the Capitol’s reach. But District 7 does not allow dreams to grow roots. The Games come for all of us eventually.

And when they did, he didn’t let me go.

He volunteered for me before I could even open my mouth.

Year Of The 64th Hunger Games: Memories Of a Nightingale.

It was a quiet afternoon beneath the hawthorn tree where we spent most of our stolen moments together. The world seemed to slow down there, away from the ever-watchful eyes of the Capitol and the bitter weight of the district. I hummed a song, soft and low, as the breeze played with my hair, the familiar melody slipping between the branches. Regulus sat beside me, his hands moving over the wood in his lap, carving another weapon—sharp, pointed, and useful for a world that demanded its people to be sharp, pointed, and useful.

“You’re always making those.” I said, trying to keep my voice light, teasing him as I watched him work.

He didn’t look up, his brow furrowing as he pressed the knife into the wood. “The Capitol won’t care if you’re singing or carving stars, Starling,” he muttered. “They just care if you’re useful.”

I watched him in silence for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in deeper than I wanted to admit. Regulus wasn’t wrong, but that didn’t mean I liked it. “ Well yeah, but you will always protect me right, shadow?” i teased

“Always, (Y/N).” he whispered.

Picking up the smaller, discarded pieces of wood, I shaped them carefully with my own knife, trying not to let the sharp edges of the world touch me too much. I carved stars, tiny pieces of hope I could hold in my hand. It wasn’t much, but it was something. I handed him one, a rough star with jagged edges, as I had done countless times before.

“Here,” I said quietly, my voice almost a whisper. “For you.”

He paused, looking at it for the briefest of moments before taking it from my hand. “It’s perfect, Starling,” he said, his voice soft in a way it rarely was. “Thank you.”

I smiled, even though my heart ached with the weight of it. These stars were the only things I could give him—things he didn’t ask for, things that might not mean much, but still, they were mine to give. And he accepted them.

Regulus had a way of making me feel seen when the world seemed to be looking the other way. He was hard on everyone, but with me, he softened. He wasn’t perfect, far from it, but when he called me “Starling” in his quiet way, it made me feel like I was something precious, like I mattered in a world that told us every day we didn’t.

He’d come to the Lovegood’s house often, though we never said why. His family was falling apart—his brother Sirius, gone, lost to the Capitol after a run-in with the Peacekeepers. His mother, too far gone in her own grief to care for him. He didn’t say much about it, but I could see it in his eyes whenever he stood at the edge of the field, looking out at the horizon. That same distant look when I spoke of my father, when the Capitol had taken him for no reason other than the injustice of trying to survive.

I’d been taken in by the Lovegoods family after that, a kindness I didn’t deserve, and Regulus would come by to check on me. He never said it, but I knew. His visits, though brief, were the only comfort I had. He wouldn’t stay long, always had something else to do, something else to prepare for, but his presence was enough.

“You’re not going anywhere, are you?” I asked him once, my voice barely more than a breath, as he walked away from the small house after one of his visits.

He turned back to me, the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Starling,” he said. “Where would I go without you?”

“It’s too quiet,” I whisper, even though I know he hates it when I say things like that.

Regulus doesn’t look up from the sliver of wood in his hands. He’s crouched in the dirt beneath our tree—our tree—carving a blade out of pine like it’s the only thing keeping him sane. “The forest’s always quiet,” he says. “You just hear more when you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared.”

“You are.” He says it softly, almost like it’s a compliment. “You always are, little bird.”

I pretend the nickname doesn’t twist something warm in my chest. He’s the only one who calls me that. The only one who makes it sound like something alive. I never asked him why, but I think it’s because I sing. Because even in this broken place, I keep letting music fall out of me like it might matter.

I reach down and pick up a smooth, flat twig from the dirt, running my fingers over it. I used to make little stars from the scraps Regulus left behind. Carve them with bits of broken glass and shape them with my thumbs until they looked just right. I give him one almost every week. He never throws them away.

“Do you think they’ll ever find Sirius?”

He pauses. I watch his jaw tense before he answers. “No.”

Just that. No. No hope, no softness. Like he already buried his brother the second he disappeared. Like he’s preparing to bury me, too.

I look away, up at the branches of the tree we always come back to. It’s bent at the middle and knotted at the roots, but it still stands. That feels important somehow. Like a promise.

When the silence thickens too much, I do the only thing that makes it bearable—I sing.

A soft lullaby, the kind I hum when my nightmares wake me. It sounds hollow in the open air, but Regulus doesn’t tell me to stop. He never does. Not since that night after Sirius vanished, when he found me crying under this tree and asked me, in the smallest voice, to sing until it stopped hurting.

When my voice trails off, I hold out the little star I’d been shaping. It’s not perfect—none of them are—but it’s mine.

“For you.”

He takes it carefully, like it might break. “What’s it for?”

“Protection,” I say, even though I don’t really believe in it anymore.

“You already gave me that.” He glances up, and his eyes look too old for thirteen. “Every time you sing.”

I watch him tie the star to the worn leather cord around his neck. It disappears beneath his shirt, close to his heart. I think if I asked him, he’d say he keeps them all. Every single one.

“You’d better not lose it,” I say, trying to tease.

“If I did,” he says, voice low, “you’d haunt me.”

“You already do,” I shoot back, smirking a little.

We fall into that quiet again. But it’s different this time. Not empty. Just full of things we don’t say. Things like: I miss my dad. I hate the Capitol. I’m scared they’ll take you next.

I live with Pandora’s family now. My father was shot in the square last winter—for stealing a sack of flour to feed us. And Regulus—he flinches every time a Peacekeeper passes, like he knows the way grief lingers after someone’s ripped away.

We’re only twelve and thirteen. But under this tree, we get to be something else. I sing. He carves. I make stars. He wears them. He calls me Starling, and I call him Shadow, because he’s always there—quiet, sharp, watching. Like something the world tried to break but failed to kill.

I think we’re still learning how to survive. But here, for now, we’re still learning together.

My dress is old. I’ve worn it every Reaping Day since I turned twelve. The hem is frayed, the collar softened by too many washes. It smells like cedar and time, like the chest we keep it in and the quiet ache of years I’ve outlived. It holds the dust of survival. It remembers the names of the girls who didn’t.

The square is a silent wound—rows of children dressed in borrowed hope and trembling silence. Somewhere, a baby cries. Somewhere, a mother prays. We all stand still, pretending not to see the peacekeepers, the cameras, the Capitol flag snapping like a threat above us.

Regulus finds me in the crowd. He always does. Even now, with a hundred heads between us and a hundred fears stronger than steel, his eyes find mine. Like the first crack of sunlight through winter branches—sharp, warm, and far too much.

He doesn’t smile. He never smiles on Reaping Day. But he gives me a nod. Barely there. A flicker of something constant in a world that won’t stop changing. It means: I’m here, I’m watching.

And sometimes I think it means: I’ll burn this whole world down if it tries to take you.

He’s fourteen now—taller this year, stronger too. His knuckles are bruised, as always. His mouth looks carved from stone. There’s always something dangerous behind it. Cold to everyone. Except me.

Always, always me.

I think of the tree on the hill—the one with the crooked branch we used to climb when we still believed in things like forever. When the Games were something that happened to other districts. Before Sirius disappeared into the woods and never came back. Before my father was dragged out in the night for saying one wrong sentence too loudly. Before we started sleeping with our shoes on, just in case we had to run.

That was when Regulus began making weapons from bones and bark. And I began shaping stars out of splinters. I gave him one once—a crooked little thing carved from pine and etched with a trembling promise: come back to me. He wore it like a secret. Still does.

I see it now, just peeking out from under his shirt. Pressed against his heart.

The name is called, but I don’t hear it. Static. Or silence. Or maybe just the world stopping all at once.

I blink. A breeze moves past. A bird overhead breaks the sky with its wings. I think someone gasps, or maybe that’s just me trying to breathe.Then I hear it.

A sob. Sharp and sudden. And it comes from beside me.

Regulus.

His eyes aren’t on the stage, they’re on me. Not with confusion. Not surprise. Just pain. Like he’s already grieving something. Like he knew this would happen. And I understand.

The name.

My name.

He doesn’t say it. Doesn’t need to. It’s there—in the way his jaw clenches. The way his fingers curl. The way he looks at me like he’s memorizing something he knows he’s about to lose. My knees don’t buckle, not yet atleast. I just stand there. Cold. Hollow. A girl-shaped shell in an old cedar-scented dress.

Then someone whispers my name, and the moment shatters.

I hear my own voice—screaming, cracking, raw. It rips through my throat like broken glass. No one moves to help.

Except him. Regulus takes one step forward. Then another.

“No,” I choke out, already knowing it’s useless.

“I volunteer!” His voice cuts the air cleanly, like a blade through silk. “I volunteer as tribute!”

And everything goes quiet.

No applause. No cheers. Just silence. Like the whole district just watched something sacred snap in half. The Peacekeepers hesitate. They’re not used to this. Boys don’t volunteer. Not for someone else. Not for love. But the one in charge—he knows who Regulus is. Of course he does. Everyone does. So he nods once, grimly, and lets him pass.

I try to run to him. I do. But arms hold me back—too many hands, too many strangers. I scream and fight and sob, but it doesn’t matter.

He’s already walking. Already stepping into the fire.

And when our paths cross—when the tide of the crowd forces him forward and drags me back—his hand finds mine.

Somehow, in all the chaos, he reaches for me.

And I reach back.

His forehead presses to mine. Just for a second, one heartbeat. All they allow.

“You’ll be okay, star” he whispers. “You always are. I love you so so much”

But I shake my head, crying so hard I can barely speak. “Don’t do this. Please. Regulus, please.”

His lips brush my temple like a goodbye. Like a secret.

“Please don’t watch the game.”

Then he’s gone.

They drag him onto the stage. Announce him as District Seven’s male tribute. The speakers blare with artificial applause. His name echoes off the stone buildings like it belongs to someone else.

Come back to me.

But deep down, I know, he won’t.

The Games didn’t end the day Regulus was taken. They only began.

For me, they never stopped. They just changed shape.

When the hovercraft disappeared into the clouds, it felt like he had been erased from the earth. One second he was beside me, breathing the same air, the next he was a name on a list and a face in a Capitol broadcast. I stayed in the square long after the crowds faded. Long after the Peacekeepers stopped watching. Until my legs gave out and the dust soaked through the knees of my dress. Until I could no longer feel the place where his forehead had pressed against mine.

The first night was the hardest. The silence roared. I kept hearing his voice in the creak of the door, in the wind against the windows. I pressed the pine star against my chest so hard it bruised. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t eat. I just waited. Like he might walk back through the door and say it had all been a mistake.

And then the Games began.

They dress him in silk and shadow, like a prince carved from storm clouds. They oil his curls and line his eyes with gold. They ask him to smile, and he does—not like he used to, not the secret, crooked one he saved for me. This one is sharp. Public. Practiced.

They made a spectacle of him. The youngest tribute in history. Fourteen ears old with coal under his fingernails and defiance in every bone. The Capitol ate it up. They loved his sharp mouth and quiet rage. They played it on every screen. They slowed down the footage when he killed. They called him a prodigy. A miracle. A monster.

I watched every second.

He was brutal. Smart. Unforgiving. He used a branch sharpened to a point to slit someone’s throat and didn’t flinch. He snapped a boy’s arm in half to take his knife and then turned it on a girl who had been hiding in a hollow tree. He moved like he had already died and was trying to take the rest of the world with him.

But every night when the anthem played, I saw him reach for his neck. Just for a second. Just a flicker of his hand to make sure the pine star was still there.

And then he won.

He stood on the pedestal, soaked in blood and silence, while they crowned him. I thought he’d cry. Or scream. Or refuse to smile. But he did smile. Not the one I knew. Not the soft one, not the kind one he saved just for me. This one was razor sharp and hollow and made of teeth. I knew in that moment I had lost him.

He never came back.

Not once.

They said he was too important now. Too dangerous. Too fragile. They said the Capitol had plans for him. They dressed him in silk and poured him into interviews like he was made to be adored. He became a myth in a gold suit. The boy from District Seven who never looked back.

I wrote letters. Dozens of them. Hundreds. I carved them into bark and stone and silence. I whispered them to the wind. I buried one beneath the tree on the hill where we used to play. I lit another on fire and watched the smoke rise like a prayer.

He never answered.

The years passed like ghosts. They didn’t walk. They floated. They haunted. 

The first one is the hardest. I scream into my pillow every night until my throat bleeds. I run through the woods until my legs collapse. I break every wooden carving I ever made.

I stop singing.

The second year, I start collecting scraps of Capitol broadcasts. Trying to spot him in the background. Some days I do. Always perfect. Always polished. They paint him like a storybook villain—fierce, loyal, unreadable. The Capitol’s golden boy. The Capitol’s ghost.

He mentors the new tributes. Sends them to their deaths with silent eyes. He wins sponsors with a tilt of his head. He never speaks of home. Never speaks of me.

By year three, I begin to hate him for it.

Every Reaping Day I wore the same dress. Every year it smelled more like death and dust. Every year I stood in the crowd and waited for a miracle that never came. I would search the Peacekeepers’ faces, hoping to see his. I would beg the stars to send him back to me.

I waited so long I forgot how his voice sounded when he said my name.

The Capitol paraded him on Victory Tours. His eyes stopped looking like eyes. They looked like glass. Like mirrors that only showed what the Capitol wanted them to reflect. And he looked right into the cameras and told the next batch of tributes to fight hard. To be brave. To survive.

Not once did he mention the tree on the hill. Not once did he say my name.

He belonged to them now.

And I hated him for it.

I hated him for surviving when my father hadn’t. I hated him for smiling while I screamed into my pillow every night. I hated him for choosing silence. For letting me rot in a house full of ghosts. For becoming everything we promised we’d never be.

But I never took off the star.

Not even when it cracked down the middle and the edges splintered into my skin. I wore it like a scar. Like a wound I wanted the world to see.

Because no matter how much I hated him, I loved him more.

And that was the cruelest part. Loving someone who no longer existed. Loving someone who never came home.

I am no longer twelve, or thirteen or even fourteen. I am now seventeen. Five years since the boy with storm-gray eyes and a wooden star around his neck walked into the Hunger Games and didn’t die.

Five years since he stopped being mine.

Five years since I was anything other than the girl he saved.

Time moved differently after that. Like honey left in the cold. Slow, thick, impossible to swallow. The days passed but left no mark. Just the dull echo of what used to be.

I still live in District Seven. Not the quiet outer woods where we used to hide, but in the Victor’s Village. A house built for him, empty and too large. It stares down at me from the hill like a monument to something I didn’t ask for. We were allowed to move in once he won, though he never came back to see it. He never came back at all.

Sometimes I imagine the moment he won—when he killed the final tribute. They say he didn’t hesitate. That it was quick, clean, merciless. The Capitol loved him for that. Crowned him with gold and blood. They gave him a nickname. The Porcelain Wolf. Beautiful. Fragile. Deadly.

I stopped watching the Games after that.

They say Victors get a choice. To return. To mentor. To disappear. Regulus chose to stay. Chose the Capitol. Chose them.

He didn’t write. He didn’t visit. He didn’t send a single word. But I saw him.

On screens. In newspapers. Draped in velvet and black silk. Face sharper, eyes colder. His hair always perfectly combed. A Capitol woman on his arm, sometimes two. He smiled with his mouth, not his eyes.

I kept the wooden star in a box beneath my bed. I didn’t touch it. I couldn’t.

They made him a symbol. A weapon wrapped in silk and sorrow. President Barty Crouch Sr. personally invited him to every gala, every celebration. Said Regulus Black embodied the strength of the districts and the civility of the Capitol. Said he was an example for all future tributes.

His son, Barty Crouch Jr., a golden boy of fire and cruelty, followed Regulus like a shadow. I saw them together once on screen. Laughing. Drinking something deep red. Their eyes matched.

That night I vomited until I saw stars.

But I wasn’t alone in the dark. Not always.

Pandora came to me that winter. She was odd in the way trees are odd—twisting, reaching, growing toward something no one else could see. She moved like a whisper and spoke like a song, full of strange dreams and endless wonder. Her family had fled the Capitol years ago and settled here, quiet and kind.

We became unlikely friends. She never asked me about Regulus. She just let me sit beside her in silence until I was ready to speak again.

She once told me I had a voice made of stitched-up stars. That when I sang, it made the woods pause to listen.

I laughed for the first time in years.

Together, we made a sort of life. I worked in the lumber fields part-time. Helped her sell pressed flowers and herbal remedies in the market. We made plans, silly and impossible—like running away to District Thirteen if it even existed. Or crafting a new kind of life where no one could own us.

I almost believed it. Almost.

But Reaping Day doesn’t care about dreams.

It came with smoke in the sky and the scent of metal in the wind. Everything felt too sharp that morning. The way my braid pulled at my scalp. The way my dress clung to my ribs. Five years later, im here, standing again in the same square for the 70th Hunger Games.

I stood beside Pandora in the square. Her hand found mine. It was warm and shaking. The stage was the same as always. Wood splintered and stained. A microphone that crackled like bones. The stage was the same as always—warped wood, splintered and stained with a thousand yesterdays. The microphone still crackled like dry bone snapping under a boot. And the Capitol escort stood painted and powdered, her lashes dusted in silver. A wax doll in velvet gloves. Her smile was too red.

“Ladies first! Now, now, for the female tribute of District Seven!” she sang, voice too bright, too clean for this place.

Her hand dipped into the glass bowl. Time stretched, the world felt like it was holding its breath.

She pulled out a slip of paper and unfolded it with a painted smile. She read the name.

Silence.

Then Pandora screamed. A raw, animal sound, tearing itself out of her throat. Mary shouted something from the row behind us. Somewhere near me, someone sobbed. I heard it all like it was underwater—muffled, distant. My own breath barely reached me. Everything narrowed to a point of pain. The world didn’t spin. It stopped. Froze just long enough to crack.

Pandora’s nails were digging into my arm now. “No. No. No,” she whispered, over and over again, as if saying it could change the name on that slip of paper. As if it could undo the horror stitched into the silence. But I couldn’t move. I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t even speak. My voice was gone, swallowed by the shock.I couldn’t move.

I was twelve again.

I was thirteen.

I was fourteen, fifteen, sixteen.

Now I was the girl they would kill.

My name echoed through the square, again and again, like the beat of a funeral drum.

No one volunteered. Not this time.

Of all the names. Of all the girls. Of all the slips of paper folded and dropped into that glass bowl like prayers no one answers. It had to be mine. Again.

As if fate had been holding its breath all these years, biding time like a vulture waiting for the heart to slow. I had already been chosen once—called by death and spared by a boy with stars in his eyes and fire in his voice.

I was supposed to die at thirteen. And maybe I should have. Because at least then, he would have been there. Regulus. My Regulus. His hand in mine, his voice the last sound I’d hear. At least then, I would have gone knowing I was loved.

Back then, he wasn’t yet a Capitol trophy, draped in velvet lies and stitched smiles. He hadn’t learned to hide behind applause or kiss the rings of monsters. Back then, he was still real. Still mine.

If I had gone then, it would have been with someone waiting for me on the other side.

Now—now there’s nothing but ghosts behind me and a spotlight ahead. Maybe this is what fate wanted all along. It wasn’t mercy four years ago. It was a delay. A cruel postponement. A way to drag me through grief, through loneliness, through the slow death of remembering.

Because no one escapes the Games. Some of us just take longer to get there.

authors note again: why tf are the first chapters the hardest to write??

[h8ani]

Sasuke Uchiha x Reader

Word Count - 4k

Warnings - smut, angry sex, public sex, fear of getting caught, hair pulling, angst, slight paranoia, kinda non-canon structures (its been a long time since i watched naruto tbh so disregard the village not being exactly how the anime is), oral - male receiving, face fucking, gagging, degradation, penetrative sex, fem!reader, choking, reader is described to be wearing a dress in this chapter, there’s a voyeur

A/N - Just a reminder that if you have joined my taglist and change your username please let me know! If you haven't joined I put the link down below :) But holy hell you guys I can't believe I actually finished this after almost 5 months in my drafts, but I hope you enjoy it!

taglist! - @bloodsiren @blackfire2013 @benkeibear @suyacho @kodzukein

join my taglist → here

Part One → Part Two → Part Three → Part Four

It’s been a few days since the last time Sasuke was over. You’re used to the silence in between his visits; it’s become second nature to go days, even weeks, without seeing him, and the radio silence between each time he visits has become more common than the last. 

It doesn’t bother you. It does. You could really care less. Sasuke has been the only thing that’s been on your mind. You absolutely hate him. You feel…conflicted.

~~

Limbs tangled with one another, all you could hear were the heavy breaths that escaped both of your lips, your body rising and falling every time Sasuke took in a deep breath as you laid on top of him, his hands dancing along the skin of your back so featherlight it almost tickled. 

Neither of you had uttered a word, just basking in the feeling of touching the other’s skin; the warmth radiating off each other’s body heat brought a sense of familiarity that you couldn’t quite pinpoint just why you felt most comfortable in his arms. You mentally shook the thought away; there was no need to focus on that. Your mind had already cleared up from the sex fog he had put you under and had started to race with a million different things that you wanted to bring up to him. Why did he do what he did? When was he going to leave again? He’s going to leave right away, don’t be stupid. When were you going to see him again? Why did he leave in the first place? You wanted to bring up so much, but you couldn’t brush off this feeling that something was about to happen, as if the rainstorm you were caught up in earlier today was a warning of a disaster brewing and about to happen. 

“What’s wrong,” Sasuke spoke up, his words sounding more like a statement than a question. His eyes were trained on you, making your stomach involuntarily tighten with their intensity. He had been focusing on the multitude of expressions that had graced your face within the last minute; you were completely oblivious to his stare; somehow, he wanted to blame the sex for your lack of inattentiveness and not the fact that you may feel safe around him, no it couldn’t be that. Being distracted has nothing to do with him and everything to do with you being incompetent. Yeah, that’s it.  

Your eyes met his, and before he knew it, your eyes lit up, a small smile appeared, and a simple shake of the head erased any form of contemplation he had previously seen. “Nothing.” You quickly say, “Just thinking.” Bullshit

“About what?” He interjects, his hands that were once dancing lightly across your back were now holding your hips, gripping ever so slightly. 

“Just thinking, random thoughts, it doesn’t matter.” 

“If it doesn’t matter, then you can tell me.”

Huffing a sigh, you stare back at him, his emotionless pools of black not letting you get a read on him, yours: uncertainty. “You won’t answer me even if I ask.”

He raises and sits up, causing you to reposition yourself in an upright position as well; your eyes stay trained on him as his stare hardens, almost as if what you just said offended him somehow. His eyes glance into yours as if he needs to be wary now. “I’m not answering anything about why I’m back in the village or why I left.” He blurts out quickly, a scoff following soon after. “You know you can’t say anything about seeing me. Don’t go blabbing about it to any of your little friends, or I won’t be coming back.” His stare solidifies as your jaw drops ever so slightly; the hardened look he’s giving you makes your chest tighten, and your body rises in temperature. 

Sasuke sees your expression fall ever so slightly before you catch yourself and, in turn, sends the signature scowl he’s grown accustomed to back in his direction. Your eyes narrow while you sit up straighter, the discarded sheet on the bed now pulled tightly to your chest, and he curses at the way that made his stomach clench. He doesn’t care if you’re mad at him, but he can’t lie and say he didn’t want to ruin your two’s good momentum today. The sex was great, and he wanted to leave on what would be considered a good note for the both of you.

“I think you should go,” you say simply. You avert your glare and decide to stare at the wall instead, avoiding his eyes. “You know where the door is.” Ouch.

He rubs his face and sighs. “Look, you don’t get-”

“I don’t care, Sasuke. Like I said, it didn’t matter. So why don’t you just leave? I never saw you, and I’m not going to tell any of my “little friends.” 

You sigh and throw the blankets off you, quickly grabbing your clothes and slamming your bathroom door shut. 

Your throat tightened from the moment you got up, wanting to get away from him from the very moment he opened his stupid mouth. You take a slow, deep breath and let it out; the tightness in your throat drops to your stomach. Why would he even snap like that? What gives him the right to think he could speak like that to you? You miff another sigh out as the conflict in you bubbles up even more with the thoughts running rampant. How stupid could you be for thinking he actually could’ve been somewhat of a nice human being after today?

Your thoughts were quickly silenced by the sound of your front door opening and closing, the door shutting louder than necessary. Fucking asshole.

~~

You shake your head to rid yourself of your thoughts as you look at yourself in the mirror, you fix your hair and check over your outfit in the mirror, quickly doing a little 360 in your mirror. Everyone had decided that tonight was a good night to hang out and have some drinks as no one had any missions for tomorrow, so there was no need to worry about any impending hangovers. 

You changed into a nice dress that fell mid-thigh; it was form-fitting and casual enough that you didn’t overdress or underdress with it. You pulled your hair into a high ponytail and just enough makeup to cover any eye bags that were more prominent than usual, no less from your sleepless nights thinking about he-who-shall-not-be-named-or-thought-of. You looked yourself over in the mirror and smiled. You felt pretty tonight, and it was nice not constantly to be in work mode for once.

The stressors from work and the expectations you always got from everyone took a toll on your body more than you would have liked. You were expected to never make any mistakes and always be three steps ahead, and it was simply a lot. Was it fair? Probably not, but it was also what you got for being a perfectionist at such a young age. You gave everyone expectations where you could only rise instead of fall. If you fell, everyone would know, and you just couldn’t have that. 

You leave your apartment and make your way down to meet your friends. The air had a slight chill to it as the sun was finally setting, but something along with the chill was bothering you. You couldn’t brush off the feeling that someone was watching you. 

Your feet skid to a halt as you spin, eyes cascading along the rooftops of the buildings around you. Your breathing picks up as your heart begins beating, and you feel every thump as your anxiety spikes. You internally curse yourself for being so stupid as not to even bring a single shuriken with you. For god’s sake, you could’ve popped one in your purse just for safekeeping. The anxiety you feel is derived from being paranoid, and you have to remind yourself no one is watching you and that it’s just your own mind playing tricks on you. You take a deep breath as you hear a name call out to you; turning back around, you see Shikamaru and Choji waving you over. You speed walk over to them, swallowing down the feeling of someone’s eyes on you. Was Sasuke here again? You wouldn’t expect him to be over so soon after the fight you two had just days ago. He’s never over this soon after he leaves anyway. Usually, it takes weeks for him to come over, sometimes even months. Although his eyes being the ones you’ve felt had to have been it, there’s no other explanation.

~~

The buzz of the alcohol was finally settling in; once you got inside, you decided you needed a tiny little shot to calm your nerves and anxieties, then another once all your friends arrived and wanted to take a group shot, and now here you are ordering your third. You’re a lightweight, no shock about that, and feeling a bit dazed as you stare at the shot of alcohol sitting in front of you. You’re so zoned out, not even realizing the presence of someone taking the seat next to you at the bar table.

“You look nice tonight.” A familiar voice catches your ear, and you turn, seeing Shikamaru next to you. A sudden rush of heat hits you as you stare back at him. “Oh, T-Thank you.” You stutter out and mentally smack yourself. You divert your attention back to your shot glass, suddenly remembering how intriguing it was just two seconds ago. 

Suddenly, hearing the sound of glass scraping against the bar table, you look up and see a similar shot in Shikamaru’s hand. “Cheers?” He holds up his shot glass, waiting for you to do the same. A small chuckle leaves you as you hold yours up and clink your glass with his. “Cheers.” 

You knock back the shot, grimacing over the familiar burn down your throat and the fuzzy feeling deep in your stomach. You sigh and slump back against your seat as you look at Shikamaru. “You look nice too, I think I forgot to compliment you back.” 

He chuckles, “Thanks, I didn’t really know what to wear. I wanted to come in sweats and a hoodie, but Ino just about had a conniption when I mentioned that.”

“Oh, don’t lie, you didn’t even want to come to this.”

“And you did?”

“Well, you got me there, didn’t you?” 

Laughter fills the air around you two as you continue to talk about past missions, the latest drama you’ve heard around the village, and even as mundane as the midnight snacks you two have had, you were actually…enjoying yourself; the thought of Sasuke had been dissipated like the rain that had come and gone from the prior days. Listening to Shikamaru talk was something you found yourself rather enjoying. Still, maybe that’s just the alcohol in your veins talking. Yeah, that was definitely it. “So, what’s new with you?” Shikamaru asks, his eyes finding yours, and the sudden tightness is once again back, whether that being because the only thing that seems to be ‘new’ in your life was Sasuke and every little defiling and obscene moment between you two replayed again in your head or because you actually might be liking the attention Shikamaru is giving you the world will never know. 

“Ah, you know. Lots of training, lots of missions, lots of-”

“Staying in your apartment all day and night?”

You quirk an eyebrow up at him, lips slowly following suit. “Shikamaru Nara, are you stalking me?” An indiscernible giggle leaves your lips, which shocks not only you but also him. You can see the pink rising to his cheeks at your minor faux accusation; his eyes widen, and his hands immediately come up to defend himself. “No, I just hear Ino constantly nagging at me to hang out with her, that’s how I know. I don’t stand out of your window or anything like that. Do you know how much time and energy that takes? Do you know-”

“Shikamaru?” 

“What?”

“I was joking.”

“Oh.”

“You know, for someone with an IQ higher than a tree, you’re kinda dumb.”

“You know what…Shut up.”

~~

The air around you as you step outside drops a few degrees, causing you to shiver despite the multiple shots you had earlier. Glancing around, you notice how barren the pathways are and how barren the town seems. You glance back over your shoulder to see that Shikamaru is already on his way with his teammates, all drunk themselves, as you see them stumbling against each other. 

Your apartment isn’t far from where you are, so you, in turn, make your way down the path. Bad idea. The more you walk, the more you regret that last shot you took and every single life choice you seem to have made tonight because the line you had been walking in had slowly turned into a wave, making you plant your hand on the building beside you. “Just a little more, and I’m almost home.” You blow out a sigh before taking another step forward. Looking up, your body freezes as you see a rock fly past you and fall to the floor to your right. Your senses come to realize that someone is near as you stare at the rock. The alcohol has slowed your reflexes because you’re yanked backward, a scream bubbling up in your throat. Still, before you can release it, a hand is clasped over your mouth, and you get dragged in between the two buildings down the small alleyway.

You begin kicking back and screaming into the hand, fighting as you’re dragged back further into the small space between the two buildings, your front pressed against the wall and the chills finding their way back up your spine once you hear his voice. “How stupid could you be?” His voice is loud in your ear, hand still firm against your mouth, not allowing you to utter a word. “Walking home drunk is one thing, but what the fuck are you wearing?” He seethes. Your dress is already riding up higher on your thighs, just below your ass, due to being pressed between the wall and the man himself. It took all of one big gust of wind to blow it up or one perverted old man to ‘drop’ something of his to catch a look up your dress. The anger that welled up in his chest was undeniable as he pushed off of you and spun you around to slam you harder into the wall itself. Your eyes caught him scanning over you; his already dark eyes seemed even darker tonight. The dress you wore hugged every inch of you perfectly, and it drove him madder seeing it hiked up higher than intended, all thanks to him. One more inch, and he could see the little lace thong he knew you were wearing. He finds your eyes and tsks at the dumbfounded look you gave him; just how stupid were you? 

“Sasuke-”

“Shut up and get on your knees.” He cuts you off, hands gripping your arms and tugging you down until you plop down on your knees. The dirt underneath you digs uncomfortably into your skin. You look up, pupils dilated as you stare up at the ravenette. “Unless you want us to be caught, I suggest you not utter a single noise.” Without warning, Sasuke pushes two fingers past your lips and into your mouth, pumping the digits like they were his cock until they were soaked with your own spit. “I suggest you act right, given your circumstances.” He speaks, and your eyes narrow up at him; the urge to clamp your teeth on his fingers threatens to come to fruition, but you can’t ignore the subtle throb in between your legs. “Suck.” He says while pushing his fingers deeper and tugging his pants down with his other hand, pulling down the material along with his underwear, allowing his cock to spring out. You could feel yourself salivate just looking at him, wanting to trade his fingers for his cock against your better judgment. He presses his fingers down harder against your tongue, causing you to gag and choke on saliva; you can hear the snicker that comes from him as he watches you trying to quieten your coughing spout. 

His hand threads into your hair, messing up your almost perfect ponytail, the grip burning your scalp as he pulls you forward, knees dragging against the ground while the tip of his cock presses against your wet lips, his precum smearing across them in an almost erotic way that Sasuke doesn’t think he could last by just looking at you. 

You drop your jaw open while he pushes his cock past your lips, enveloping himself in the warmth that is your mouth. The grip on your hair grants you nothing but pain as his hips begin to move to their own rhythm, his cock hitting farther back than the last thrust. You try your best to breathe through your nose as he fucks your face to his liking; maybe if your mind weren’t so focused on Sasuke being here, cock down your throat and his eyes watching you so meticulously, you’d have the nerve to push back, make him slow down, maybe even explain why he knew you were out with your friends in the first place and not at home. 

Tugging you even tighter, Sasuke pushes your head until your nose is brushing against his stomach; your throat tightens as he effectively pushes each inch into your throat. “You feel me? Do you think that Shikamaru could ever stretch your throat out like I do? He might as well try something with you seeing how fucking drunk you were tonight.” His hips rock forward until his dick hits further back into your throat. You choke around him, drool effectually spilling past your lips and down your chin. 

Eyes squeezing shut, you sputter another cough, which turns into a gag around his length. A disapproving noise is heard from him as he pulls away, allowing you to take in deep breaths. As you open your eyes, you see him crouched down in front of you, a look one can only describe as displeasure. “How stupid could you be?” he says, slightly shaking his head before he speaks again. You’re supposed to be better than them.” 

“Better than-”

Crack!

“Naruto! You idiot!” You gasp as you hear the rest of your friends walking down and getting closer to the alleyway you were in. They must’ve just now left the bar you all were at; this isn’t good; you need to leave; they can’t see you like this. You pull farther away from Sasuke as you see them pass the opening between the two buildings, all of them stumbling and unknowingly passing you as they walk. 

Another tsk leaves his mouth as he shoves you forward; you catch yourself on your hands while grimacing at the sting that travels through the skin of your knees. You feel his hands positioning himself behind you, all while pushing your dress up to your hips and pulling your thong to the side. Suddenly feeling every bit of alcohol drain from your system, you become hyper-aware of what is really happening; you jolt forward, and before you can spin around to ask him what he thinks he’s doing, you’re yanked back by your hair, back arching to the point where you’re staring straight into his eyes. “Make sure to be quiet, or else everyone is going to see how much you love taking my cock.” A deep chuckle vibrates through him. “What would they think when seeing you on all fours in an alley? Perfect little (y/n) crying from how good my cock makes her feel; how would you ever live that down? You think Shikamaru would ever give you the slightest bit of attention after that?” 

Letting go of your hair, a knee between your thighs pushed them further apart while you balanced yourself on your hands. The itching feeling that someone could see or be watching from a distance burns brighter than the pain in your knees. The swollen tip of his cock prods your already glistening entrance; you bite down on your lip to stop any form of a whine from slipping out. You swallow down the nerves as his hand leaves your hair to slip around your throat; the silent plea that he wouldn’t make this difficult left the moment his hips slammed into yours, his hand tightening on your throat, restraining the scream that threatened to bubble out. He gave you no time to adjust, his hand leaving your throat and falling to your waist, fingers digging into your flesh so tight as he slammed into you that you knew bruises would be there by morning. 

You can’t help but glance up, fearing that any of your friends could leave the bar at any time and pass by, seeing you in the most compromising position you feel like you’ve been in. The subtle feeling that there’s a pair of eyes on the two of you grows larger while you scan around. No one has passed by the entrance, and this feeling could only be explained by you being scared of getting caught. 

Sasuke’s breathy grunts found your ears, and a pang of alarm shot right through you as he was the one making noise. The subtle sound of skin slapping skin makes you even more fearful. The coil in your stomach is already winding tight; the quieter you have to become, the more your pussy grips him. You clench around him, pussy squeezing for dear life. Your nails dig into the ground beneath you, knuckles turning white. 

“Oh, God…” You pant, dropping your head down between your shoulders. The sounds of everyone’s voices can be heard in the distance, and you try desperately to focus on anything other than the impending orgasm that’s slowly building up. 

Sasuke shifts, bringing his hand in between your legs and fingers quickly to find your clit, rubbing quick little circles. You bite down hard on your lip, the silvery taste of metallic dancing on your tongue from allowing the moan that threatened to escape. No, You won’t give him the satisfaction of making you cum, especially this fast. You grab his hand to stop his fingers and feel his hand that was once placed on your waist slide across your skin and reach back up to your throat, drawing your back flush to his chest, knees digging deeper into the gravel on the ground and seemingly reaching deeper within you, a desperate whine left your lips as your eyes faintly rolled back. “Stop me from making you cum, and I swear to god, you’re going to regret it.” He growls while tightening his grip on your throat and bringing his other hand back to your clit. His hips snapped into you even deeper while he assaulted your clit. You struggle to gasp as the coil in you snaps; your body shakes as you lean back into him more, pushing him even deeper that you swear you see stars. You spasmed as you dug your nails into the hand that held your throat while he continued to pound into you. 

He was chasing his own release, and the way he felt like you two would be caught at any moment spurred him on even more. He knew tonight was a lot, even on his standards of fucking you, but the way your pussy was fluttering around him, the deeper he got, and the rougher he became, he couldn’t stop. Your walls clenched around him, climax dragging out as your pleasure was heightened as he fucked into you; your name tumbled off of his lips before he bit into your shoulder, muffling the sinful moan he released as he came. You both fell forward, barely catching yourselves before hitting the ground, with heavy breaths syncing with one another while you catch your wit on what you two just did. 

The feeling of someone watching you never did go away. 

The angry pair of eyes attached to the redhead at the back end of the alleyway never left you two, either. 

network: @enchantedforest-network

[writerinthewoods05]

Lady in red

Vamp!Rhysand x reader

Rhys is always carful with you and absolutely never drinks from you, but when you finally decided to spend your first night together Rhys has some trouble controlling his hunger for you.

Word count: 1.2k

Requested: no

Warnings: smut(obviously), P in V, no protection(wrap it before you tap it guys), blood play, language, insinuated oral F receiving, vampire Rhysand(he is his own warning)

Content: 🔥

Author's note: so I've decided that I will be participating in kinktober this year but make it solely Acotar. This is day 1 so I'm super excited to start this year! Enjoy!

AN #2: ok so I wrote all of these last year and just never posted them, I'm not planning on posting to many more like this cuz I just don't feel the vibe of writing smutty stuff anymore but fore the sake of getting this out of my drafts her you go.

"you always look beautiful, y/n darling, but cauldron do you look absolutely radiant right now..."

Rhys stood at the doorway his hand nestled in his pockets as he leaned on the frame and simply admired your barley covered figure. You had waited for him upstairs laying under the sheets naked and waiting. you were still a virgin and you wanted your first time to be special so you decided to wait until you were really feeling the mood.

You had went with Rhys and his brothers to the gym today which is the reason you decided that tonight would be the night after seeing your boyfriend shirtless and dripping sweat as he sparred with his younger brother. The whole day you couldn't keep your mind off of wanting to lick your way from his distinct V-line to his neck. Obviously you hadn't realized that being immortal, means extended stamina and shit if I wasn't hot as fuck seeing Rhys keep moving for so damn long.

You laid under the thin sheets of your boyfriend's bed, laying bare as you waited for him to cross the room. He stalked forward as his eyes looked down your barley covered form as if he could see straight through the thin material. You leaned back on your hands and pushed your chest out with false confidence as the white fabric fell away from your chest.

Rhysand's eyes darked and stared at your exposed breasts and before taking a deep breath, dragging his eyes up to yours and lifting a knee to the bed as he crawled to you, his large frame coming to hover over you.

"as much as I want to absolutely devour you at the moment," he took a deep breath and closed his eyes taking a large inhale through his nose. "I haven't eaten in a few days and the last thing I want to do is lose control with you..."

Even though he was trying to talk himself out of taking you right then and there his body betrayed him. His hands found your waist, pulling the sheet down you expose more of your body to him. His eyes roamed over you as if he were thinking of all the things he wanted to to to you before twining his hand in the back of your hair and pulling your lips to his. His mouth was hot on yours and he pulled your body up to straddle his kneeling thighs, your lips still tangled with his. His scent filled your nose. He smells like old books and spices and leather.

"Rhys please, I trust you." You wrap your arms around his neck and grind yourself down on his lap desperately. Rhys growls as he looks down at your naked self. Gripping your waist as he guides your hips to rock against him again. The zipper of his pants, strained against his hardening cock, rubs deliciously against your clit.

You rake your hands down his chest and start trying to tear at his buttons. As soon as the honey tan skin of his stomach is revealed you shove him onto his back lightly and straddle his hips properly. You lean over him and cup his face in both hands before kissing him as tenderly as you can.

"I trust you..." You innunciante each word in hopes of convincing him to take your and stop worrying about his control. You felt his hands run up your skin and settle on your waist before your flipped on your back at an inhuman speed that made your head spin. You felt it before you registered what he had done exactly but you felt the head of him running over your slit gently.

"Look at me, darling I need you to promise me that if it hurts your going to tell me. Do you understand?" You nod your head furiously as your eyes are locked on the top of his cock barely dipping into your heat before returning. You felt like you were on fire watching but a hand gripped your chin firmly and tilted your head up to meet purple eyes. "Words, my love. I need you to use your words. Do you understand?"

"Yes Rhys, I understand ah-" you were cut off, barely getting the words out before you felt him start to sink into you. He buried his face in your neck and you felt the tiniest pricks of something sharp as he left open mouthed kisses in his wake, trying to distract you from any discomfort.

You bury your fingers in his hair tussling the locks and you feel him scratching you out. It bordered on pain but it felt so good at the same time that you hardly noticed. After a moment he bottomed out with a growl and withdrew himself before burying himself to the hilt again and licking a stripe from the valley of your breasts to your ear, nibbling on the lobe.

Rhys could feel and hear your heartbeat start to thunder in your veins and he picked up the pace. You could feel him, running your hands over his tense muscles as he thrusted unto you at a fast but gentle pace. You lock your ankles behind his back and arch your chest into him as he starts to hit a new angle.

You were lost in him. His smell, the feel of his skin, just the feel of him, it was all too much and not enough at the same time. You were begging for him too keep going, every thrust of his cock set fire to you body and you could feel a somewhat familiar burn starting to consume your stomach. That tugging in your abdomen every time the ridge of his cock rubbed against your clit as he pulled out to the top only to sink in again was maddening.

You were starting to teater on the edge your orgasm approaching at a startling pace. You tried to rock your hips against his, the bedframe creaking from your effort. The feeling of fire burning it's way through you was about to burst and you heard rhys mutter a curse to himself before a sharp pain radiated in the side of your neck. He pushed your hips down on the bed so he could drill into you as his fangs sank deep into your soft flesh, the taste of salt and sweet copper flooding his mouth as he let out a sinful groan at the taste.

"Ah- Rhys!" Yelling his name out as you came hard around him, the sickly sweet burn of his teeth in your neck throwing you head first over the edge. Rhys let your ride out your high for a few minutes before lapping at your neck to get the bleeding to stop and pulling his still rock hard cock out from you. He looked down as he did seeing a small trail of blood lacing his shaft.

"Rhys why did you stop, you didn't eve-" you didn't finish your sentence as he quickly kissed his way down your body and settled himself with his head between your legs.

"If you think I'm going to waste this little treat or that I even close to done with you tonight, than you are very much mistaken..."

[ivyyisbored22]

𝐑𝐢𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐧—𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘹 (𝘧𝘦𝘮) 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

A Stray Kids one shot

Synopsis: Chan came back to Australia for his vacation and he's spending all his time with you. After a cute date he planned at the lake, the two of you went to his place.

Warning: Smut🔞 Explicit content. Oral (both f & m receiving), doggy, fingering [Chan makes the reader touch herself],unprotected sex, pussy slapping, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, size kink(?), name calling (slut) and pet names (baby, sweetheart).

Minors do not interact!!!

Note: This my second Chan smut draft I wrote and published on Wattpad 2 months ago. (It didn't do well xD), so I rewrote it and added a few more things.

(I require a tank of holy water after this LMFAO)

If this isn't your thing, you're more than welcome to skip it. Reblogs, likes, comments and feedbacks are always appreciated.

ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.

Word count: 4.7k

𝑬𝑵𝑱𝑶𝒀!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Chan was back home to Australia for his vacation and ever since he returned, he has been spending a lot of time with you, his long distant girlfriend.

The two of you always caught up over Facetimes and calls, but having him back home feels so good for both you and him. Chan missed you so much that he wanted to make up for all the lost time.

From early morning walks along the beach to late-night drives under the starry sky, every moment felt like a dream come true. You both explored your favourite spots, revisiting old memories and creating new ones. There was something magical about being physically together, holding hands, and sharing laughter without a screen in between.

After the best date ever, watching the sunset while he played the guitar for you alongside the lake, the spot where the two of you had your first date, Chan took you back to his place to spend the night with him.

Which of course you agreed.

The two of you binged horror K-Dramas the whole time but mostly just Chan stealing moments when a zombie was chasing a group of students or when it jumped on the screen. You missed half of the best parts because Chan wouldn't stop kissing you or putting his hand up your T-shirt, cupping your boobs.

You were more than thankful that his parents were out of town for 2 days. If they catch the two of you in their living room, seeing their son putting his hand up his girlfriend's shirt without a worry in the world, you'd bury yourself alive 6 feet below the ground.

And it's not like you haven't met Chan's parents before. Back when you started first dating and Chan introduced you to his mom and dad, they were thrilled. They loved you so much and treated you like their own daughter. Daughter in law soon according to Chan's dad. He never fails to keep saying that, it makes your cheeks flush everytime.

The two of you were in Chan's living room, the latest horror K-Drama playing on the TV. Your eyes were fully paying attention on the screen, but Chan wasn't interested at all. What was going on in his head was to kiss and make out with you. If possible to just fuck you right here on the couch while the K-Drama played.

But that will be a bad idea since his sister or brother could walk through the front door at any moment.

"Why do you like to horror stuff if the tiniest thing scares the hell out of you?" Chan asked with his brows furrowed as you flinched hard when monster came out of no where.

"It's not for the enjoyment, it's for the adrenaline rush" You cupped his cheeks with both your hands making him pout causing a burst of laughter to escape from your lips.

You should do that more often.

"I don't get what goes in your mind love. But as long as you are happy" He scooped his hand around your waist, his hand inside your shirt, pulling you closer, burying his face in your neck and shoulder.

You have to admit, you loved the way he's clingy with you more than the K-Drama playing on the TV or any damn thing in the world.

I mean how could you not?

"Baby..." Chan hummed in your neck that caused you giggle, it was one of your tickles spots.

"What do you want Channie?" You cooed. Of course you know what he wants but seeing him beg for your attention made you feel so satisfied.

Chan kissed and sucked on your neck in response, it caused you to inhale a long breath. Your fingers ran through his hair as he continued kissing your neck, his grip slowly tightening on your waist, stroking his thumb on your skin.

You finally gave in for what he's been trying since the time I came to his place, switching off the TV and turning your head towards him. Chan grinned mischievously, planting his lips on yours with a soft, sweet kiss, tilting your head demanding more access, swiping his tongue over the seam of your lips.

You slowly got up and sat on his lap as you kissed, straddling him, you could feel a buldge beneath you.

"You naughty boy," You said pulling away, Chan was hard already and it send rush of pride through you seeing how much he desires you.

"FYI, you're straddling me. Of course I'm hard" Chan taunted, but his voice remained soft. You chuckled as you palmed his cock through his shorts. He hummed in approval.

You continued palming him and softly pressing, going closer to his face and planting a series of pecks on his lips.

"Can we go to your bedroom pretty please?" You asked cutely and Chan couldn't help but grin mischievously.

He wrapped your legs around his waist and rose from the couch, carrying you upstairs to his bedroom. His mouth was on yours as he climbed up the stairs, not breaking it till he reached the door to his room. He put you down, the two of you walked inside and he flicked on the light switch.

Just like how it always looked, a full sized bed stood in the middle of the room, with its grey sheets neatly tucked in. A lone nightstand with clean lines sat beside it, holding only a minimalist lamp. His sliding door wardrobe stood at the corner of the room, with another closed door leading to an attached bathroom, the desk occupied nothing but his familiar grey laptop and a pair of high quality headphones.

Chan dimmed the lights of his room with a remote controller, the already dark room thanks to his grey bed and furniture became more darker, as shadows danced across the walls like silent phantoms. With the heavily dim lights and the moonlight shining through his windows, the ambience felt more even more intimate.

Fluffy moments with Chan like little dates and sharing selfies through texting were polar opposite compared to when Chan was in the bedroom. To his friends and his parents you're his loving girlfriend but when you were alone, you were his fuck doll.

Not that you didn't like it when he fills you up.

Locking the door, he stepped towards you slowly and gracefully like a majestic wolf, pulling his black T-shirt over his head with one hand and throwing it at his chair, revealing his defined body.

Broad shoulders, muscled chest, powerful biceps and chiseled abs any man could envy. The faint sheen of sweat glistened, accentuating the contours.

You stood where you were without making a move, moisture flooding between your legs, staining you underwear as he got closer. How could his bare chest make you so wet already?

Chan was standing just an inch or two in front of you, your chest rose and fell, when you looked at him, his eyes were already on you, a lethal smirk played across his face with his head tilting to the side. Without a warning he traced his hand over you breasts, goosebumps spread across your body in a frantic rush as you shivered against his touch.

You were crazily turned on now.

He closed his hand over your neck, not tight enough to choke but enough to turn you on even more. His eyes were burning, a wild beast was lying within them, he did the triangle look before crushing his mouth onto yours. Your teeth crashed with your tongues devouring, desiring each other.

He squeezed your ass making a moan escaped from your mouth to his, you held onto his biceps pulling him closer, needing him. Wanting him.

Chan pulled apart, his hand letting go of your neck and taking one step back,

"Off," He comanded gesturing at your shirt and pants. Without protesting, you removed your clothes.

You wearing nothing but your lace bra and panties, Chan was in his black shorts, you glanced at his cock huge and hard underneath the fabric, your face flushed in heat.

Chan was a huggable teddy bear when he wore his usual black hoodie and shorts, but underneath those said hoodie and shorts was a buff, muscular body, sculpted by the Gods themselves. You could taste the heat of his skin radiating off his bare torso as he stood towering you.

Chan pinched your nipple through your lace bra, with his other hand he unclasped it, revealing your chest to his lustful eyes. He cupped a breast, rolling the hardening nipple between his thumb and forefinger, your head fell back, teeth digging your lower lip and your whimpers already started filling the air.

You hated yet loved it when he teased before you both started.

Twisting the lace band of the panties with one finger and sliding it down, Chan circled his thumb over your clit and thrusted his middle finger through your drenched folds, you jerked and hissed as your core clenched.

"You are so wet for me sweetheart"

"Please" You begged shamelessly.

This wasn't enough. You wanted more.

"You are so needy my love" Chan chuckled as he inserted another finger inside you.

"Chan, I swear" Your nails scarred his biceps.

"Don't worry baby, I'll make you feel really good. But since you kept rejecting me back in the living room, you'll get my cock later"

Was the last thing he said before he yanked out his fingers and licked away your juices moaning at the pleasure of tasting it.

"On your knees." He commanded and you sank on the floor before you could respond.

"Touch yourself" Chan ordered. Your eyes widened at him almost popping out of your sockets, but he knows what he said.

"What?" You whispered, your voice was barely audible. All the nights when you fingered yourself and used toys thinking of Chan while you stayed in Australia and he was in South Korea crashed in your head.

"You heard me. Touch yourself. I want to see what you've been doing when I was away" Chan's voice was coated with dominance, thick and rough as a cocky smirk spread across his face.

A deep blush bloomed on your cheeks, but you knew better than to decline him. You were too turned on and needed his cock so badly, if this is what's going to make you get it, then you'd oblige him.

Without another word coming out of you, you caressed your breasts, pinching and squeezing your nipples before one hand went down you stomach and slid between your legs.

Soon, you were whimpering with pleasure, circling your clit and fingered yourself as Chan watched you with his tongue poking against the inside of his cheek.

He was controlling himself, as much as he wanted to rub his rock hard cock at the sight in front of him. It was one second away from making a hole and breaking free from his shorts.

Chan got reminded on how he stoked and rubbed himself when he missed you, he couldn't wait to feel your needy pussy and mouth around his cock.

"This is what you've been doing hmm?" He asked silkily. "You dirty slut. Thinking of me while you finger fucked yourself?"

You whimpered as your fingers worked faster at his filthy words, kneeling on the floor and your thighs trembled. "Y-yes" You said. Your mouth hung open and breaths turning slow.

Chan stepped towards you kneeling at him, grasping your chin and making you meet his gaze. You looked up at him who was looking at you as if he wanted to eat and fuck the braincells out of you.

"My girl has missed me so much hasn't she?" Your chin was still under his grip, Chan pulled his shorts and boxers down, freeing himself from the walls of the fabric, his huge, long hard cock sprung out, hitting your cheek.

You moaned, needing him. He was right here, there was no need for you to use your fingers, but Chan was too much of a tease, he will drag this night out as long as wants.

He grazed the tip on your lips, you looked up at him with a wide smirk playing across you face as you immediately stacked your other hand on his impressive shaft and swirled your tongue around the pre cum leaking head. You lapped them away as you began stoking his cock slowly at the same time pumping in and out of your cunt.

It felt like a literal scene out of a porn video.

Now Chan was the one who groaned, his head fell back biting the bottom lip when you hadn't even taken him in yet and you liked it when you took control at least for a few seconds.

One more languid swirl around the tip, a few strokes on his shaft and your thumb on the tip, you took him in slowly. You started bobbing your head up and down, licking and sucking, pressing your tongue on the underside of his cock and adjusting to his length.

Chan's hand fisted your hair as his cock went much deeper down hitting the back of your throat causing you to choke. Your eyes watered as your gags kicked in, drool leaking from the corners of your mouth but you didn't stop. Your core was aching, taking Chan down your throat while you whimpered and worked on yourself.

"Fuck yes baby. Keep sucking my cock like a good girl" He growled, his voice was thick and heavy like the rumble of distant thunder.

Chan's hand fisted around your hair, guiding you up and down, flesh against flesh, he thrusted his veiny cock in and you sucked him out more in a sensual rhythm, the wet sloppy sounds of your blowjob filling the air of his room.

It was almost like Chan could sense you were about to come, but tonight he wanted all your orgasms to belong to him. He yanked his cock out of your mouth causing you to fall back on your butt, your hand still remained in your dripping cunt.

"You won't come until I say so," He said roughly and made you yank your hand out of you.

You groaned at the ruined orgasm but no matter how much your hands and toys have tried, they could never make you come the way Chan does.

You stood up on your knees again and took his cock back in, before he could respond, Chan's his head fell back, fingers snaking your hair. You stroked the skin above his dick, feeling the regrowing hair and sucked him out till you couldn't breath or see as tears gushed up your eyes.

Your hot mouth was wrapped around his velvet length, your jaw began aching but you were determined to feel every last inch of him.

"Oh yeah...Oh yeah baby"

With Chan's harsh breaths and your gurgles, Chan shooted his load down your throat, coming down in a loud groan, you swallowed every drop, your mouth was still wrapped around his cock.

Slick ropes of his cum painted your face down your chin and a few strings of saliva attaching from your lip on the tip as he pulled out, it was a mess. Oxygen frantically rushed into your lungs.

You wiped your chin and placed a sweet kiss on his mushroom tip. Chan looked down at you, his eyes hardening and smirking biting his bottom lip, GOD his dimple made your heart race and core ache insanely.

"You take in my cock so gorgeously my love. Now be a good little slut and get on the bed. Let me see how wet your little pussy is"

Every ounce of sanity and self respect leaves your body when he commands and orders your around in the bedroom, when he takes full control over your mind, body and soul.

You got on the bed like he said, in a position where you were bare to him, the mattress sank as he got on, holding you between his knees and pinning your wrists above your head.

He bit your bottom lip in a hard kiss and smirking against it, Chan pulled out a silk pink ribbon from God knows where and tied your wrists together in a very tight knot, making it impossible for you to move.

"Chan," You whimpered. You didn't care where the hell he got that ribbon from.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to take my sweetest time with you baby"

The sound of his husky voice sent waves of arousal rush through your body as he lifted your leg, starting his way kissing from your thigh till he reached your hot dripping core. The gorgeously wet sight infront of him made Chan feel like he took a shot of heroin.

He layed a kitten kiss on your swollen nub as the scent of your arousal washed over him, Chan slowly flattened his tongue against your clit, drawing it in and sucked like a possessed man.

You frantically writhed and bucked your hips with your wrists tied above your head but Chan held you with his fingers pressed on your thighs. Your moans and whimpers were uncontrollable as he ate you out, making the phrase 'eating me alive' come to life.

"Fuck baby. You taste so good. I missed it tons"

"Cha- Chan-" You were panting out of breath. He removed his tongue from your heat after minutes of sucking, feasting and lapping away your juices. He slid his tongue again against your slit and pushed two fingers, knuckles deep in, stretching you out.

You moaned so loudly, desperately arching your back as the cold metal of his silver bracelet on his wrist touched your bare skin sending electric shivers and blood rush like a tsunami through your body.

Chan pumped his fingers in and out, sucking on your clit again and then made his way up your stomach trailing kisses and more upwards towards your breasts.

He clenched an erected tip—that were hard enough to slice crystals—between his teeth and sucked on your nipples, one after another, releasing it with an audible pop and coolly blew on the nub glistening in his saliva.

Chan met your eyes before crushing his mouth on yours hungrily with his stiff arm next to your head holding him up while the other one's fingers were diving inside you. Veins mapped his arm like lightning bolts frozen in mid-strike.

"Do you like this baby hmm? Do you feel good?" Your lungs couldn't get enough air for you to respond other than a noisy moan of his name.

"That's right. Keep moaning my name sweetheart. It's my favourite sound"

"Fuck—Chan wait, Chan—" He slid his fingers from your wet folds and before you knew, the building orgasm gushed out as you came all over his fingers with your back arching.

You squealed and moaned heavily as Chan hissed since you came before he said you could, his hand roughly smacked against your splurting cunt.

Pain was mixed with pleasure at the impact of Chan's hand on your swollen pussy, it was impossible to register on what comes first.

"I should punish you for that now shouldn't I?" He cooed but his voice was thick like gravel, another smack on your cunt.

"No please I— I'm sorry" You whimpered, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you tried to untangle your wrists but the knot didn't budge.

A third smack and your eyes flew open as Chan laughed sadistically at your whimpers. He chuckled and then reached to his night stand, opening his drawer and grabbing a box of condoms that were waiting for him.

He held the golden foil between his teeth before you shook your head and pulled the condom out of his teeth with your mouth since your hands were still tied above you.

"No," You said breathlessly moaning. "You can go raw,"

You wanted to feel his veiny thick cock twich and thrust inside you without feeling some rubber barrier block it.

"Are you sure you want that baby?" Chan asked arching an eyebrow, letting out a deep chuckle and brushing away the hair that was stuck onto you sweat slicked forehead. You nodded without a second thought.

"Yes, yes Chan" You said spreading you legs further, bucking your hip upwards as you began growing impatient. "I need you"

He chuckled again and didn't question your request, he'd love to fill his load in you, if possible to knock you up. But right now, he has enough kids.

Chan positioned himself between your legs and began teasing your entrance with his tip. He grazed it making you feel like he was going to enter but he didn't, your patience was getting lower and lower.

"Fuck me already Chan" You almost screamed, unable hold in your desire and needed to feel him fill you.

"So impatient. You want my cock to wreck this tight pussy that badly huh? Did you miss it that much baby?"

"Yes Chan, I missed you. I missed you fucking me"

Your dirty words drove Chan out of his mind. He leaned above your head and untied the ribbon, stroking the faint red marks that appeared as the ribbon had dug into your skin.

Chan swiftly spun you around and his erection dug onto your lower back. He firmly held your hips and slowly, inch by inch he began filling you with his huge length, a long moan escaping your throat.

At his moment you realized how much you had missed him. You were so tight and clenched his cock, Chan never felt this happy to return home. He hadn't fucked you in a year and yet your pussy knew as if it had a brain of its own to whom it belonged.

To Chan.

You were so wet that he entered without much resistance, but your body had to regrow to getting used to his size, so Chan moved slow until the initial discomfort was replaced with intense pleasure.

Chan's hand palmed your breast, pinching and playing with your nipple as he began thrusting, slowly first, then faster and harder, the intensity of his pace made your knees buckle.

"Ah Chan, oh God" You eyes rolled to the back of your head, mind clouding with lust and pleasure, mouth falling half open, as he fucked you ruthlessly.

It was Intense. Mind-blowing. Obsessed.

"You like that? Do you like that baby? Hmm? Tell me"

"Yes— yes, ah" The slick sounds along with your moans and whimpers poured out like a erotic symphony, Chan felt like it was the best melody his ears ever heard.

He loved the sound of your moans more than the thousand comeback tracks he has prepared on his laptop. He could listen to you like this all day, every day.

Your mind was too fogged with an extreme intensity of lust and pleasure, all you wanted was for Chan to keep pushing further and harder, until you felt like you were crashing off a cliff.

Your walls throbbed as he continued, Chan growled fisting your hair. A tingling pressure began threatening to break free again and if you didn't let go, you felt like you'd explode.

"Chan I'm— I'm going to come"

"Not so fast baby girl" He squeezed your breast causing you to arch your back. Your hands fisted the sheets till your knuckles turned white and your inner walls pulsated at the rhythm of your heartbeat.

"Pleaseplease let me come, please" You cried and begged Chan, tears gushing out of your eyes, you were very close to breaking.

Chan loved ruining you, turning you into a pathetic moaning mess. You were the love of his life after all. But he loved it more when you reached your limit and begged him to have mercy on you.

After a few hard thrusts he hit your G-spot and before he or you could say a word, your orgasm ripped through you like category 5 hurricane followed by Chan who came right after you in a harsh groan and slowly pulled out.

A sharp cry escaped your throat as you plunged forward coming down shuddering, Chan witnessed a sticky mess of his cum seeping out of your fluttering hole mixing with your squirt, the sight sent him to the depths of insanity. Had Chan not held you, you would have collapsed on the floor.

It took you a full five minutes for your brain to process the aftermath of your comedown. You fell on the bed on your back, meeting Chan's eyes, who was watching you, holding an intensity that ignited a spark within you, radiating an intimacy that seemed to bridge the gap between your souls.

The two of you were in a complete mess. Sweat slicked and glistened on Chan's chiseled body, hair wet and tousled, catching for breaths while he looked at you with nothing but love filled in his eyes. The intoxicating scent of sweat and sex fogged the air.

Chan smiled at you, a smile that would make the brightest things in the world seem dull. Your eyes locked, leaving only the electric tension crackling between your intertwining fingers and the whispered promises hung in the air as he leaned down and took your lips in his.

Chan slowly fell next to you, his fingers rubbing your hair, the two of you settling into a comfortable silence. You pulled him closer and draping an arm and a leg over him, you'd just snuggle into his chest and listen to his heartbeat for the rest of your life if you could.

He pulled apart and brushed away a strand of hair behind your ear and placed a kiss on your forehead. No matter how much how much ecstatic sex you've had with Chan, you were a real sucker for his forehead kisses.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up sweetheart" He said as he scooped you off the bed and carried to the bathroom, where he again fingered you into another amazing orgasm and then finally ending the night.

After the shower, Chan quickly changed his sheets and gave you one of his oversized t-shirts and he changed into a comfortable pair of shorts.

His tee draped nicely over your body, it was slightly bigger than your usual baggy tees, falling up to your mid thigh. Chan's shirt felt so soft and warm, his strong cologne lingered from the fabric.

Turning off the lights, Chan and you settled in under the soft comforts, embracing each other in your arms, exhaustion and satisfaction lined on his face.

"Any plans for the coming weeks?" You asked while sliding your fingers through his hair.

"Felix will be joining us for dinner next week. My mom invited him" Chan replied smiling.

"That's nice, I hope you guys will have a good time" You smiled against the soft pillows and traced a finger across his jawline, leaning in and pressing your lips on his lips, melting into his taste.

Your chest was pressed against Chan's, the two of you cuddled and made out in silence for a while before a distant honk of a car cut it. You glanced at the window then back at him, his eyes were tired and sleepy, he was looking at you and blinking it away.

"Shh," You gently stroked your hand through his hair, slowly helping Chan drift into a good night's rest. His eyes shut as his breathing steadied and his muscles relaxed.

You smiled softly, knowing that tonight, at least, he would find some respite from his sleepless nights.

You knew how Chan struggled to sleep and you would do anything to help him find the most needed rest he deserves.

Chan's arms were wrapped around your waist, as he fell into a sound sleep, you didn't move not wanting to wake him up.

Resting your head onto his chest with your arm over him, palm pressed on his back, you closed your eyes with the tranquil sound of the quiet wind outside providing a soothing lullaby.

Underneath the soft embrace of the covers, you and Chan drifted into a peaceful slumber, cocooned in the serenade of the night with the moonlight shining through the window.

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Enjoyed this one shot? Consider checking my masterlist for more. Requests? Check 𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 (& 𝚁𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜)

Thank you for reading!

xx,

Ivyy

[violettwrites]

a heart that knows — daryl dixon

a/n: sorry to the nonnie that requested this bcos i took forever 😭 it had been sitting in my drafts since i received it but i’ve been so focused on writing the first few chapters of dotd but here you go my sweet !

if you enjoy my writing, please don’t forget to like, reblog, and/or comment ! and give me a follow if you want to see more ! i really appreciate the support 🫶🏻

summary: daryl and reader were arguing when he moves too quickly and scares reader.

requested: anon requested ‘I would love to see something where tp!daryl and reader are arguing about something and he’s being expressive with his hands and she flinches out of instinct, and he realizes that things have gotten worse at home for her. He feels awful and ashamed so he makes it up to her by planning a special date and asks her to stay with him for a while and he promises her he won’t ever let anyone hurt her ever again. Just like super mega fluffy.’

warnings: mentions of abuse

word count: 1,056

resources: divider by @adornedwithlight

➵ mega masterlist

the sun was starting to set, casting a golden hue over the run down trailer park, and daryl’s voice echoed through the air as he paced in front of you. his hands waved in the air dramatically as he ranted about something—what, you couldn’t exactly remember. the heat of the argument had long since taken the actual topic of discussion and it had been twisted into something far deeper, emotions raw and rising between the two of you.

“ya just don’ get it, do ya?” daryl’s voice cracked with frustration, his hands slicing through the air. “i don’ understand why you gotta push me away all the time!”

the moment his hand moved to close, a reflex buried deep within you took over. you didn’t mean to flinch, but you did— just a little. the quick jerk of your body was instinctive, a reaction you’d honed after years of dodging your dad’s drunken outbursts. daryl’s hands froze mid air, his expression dropping immediately.

he saw it. he knew.

the silence between you both felt like a heavy weight. your eyes dropped to the gravel, cheeks burning with embarassment.

“i’m sorry,” you mumbled, trying to shake it off, but daryl was already moving closer, his earlier anger completely forgotten about. he reached out slowly, carefully, as if he didn’t want to startle you again. his calloused fingers brushed the side of your arm, and you glanced up to meet his worried blue eyes.

“hey…” his voice was soft now, barely above a whisper. “i didn’t mean to scare ya, i’m sorry.”

you nodded your head, but daryl wasn’t convinced. he could see it in the way you wouldn’t look at him directly, the way your body was still a little tense, like you were ready to flee if things went south. he swallowed hard, guilt clawing at him. he knew how you felt— life was the same for him.

“how’s… how’s your dad?” he asked, his voice rougher now, but not from anger. it was the kind of roughness that came from knowing too much, from understanding what he couldn’t fix on his own.

you shrugged, trying to keep it casual, but the walls you built up around yourself were thinner now, cracking under his concern. “he’s the same.”

daryl’s jaw tightened. he hated hearing that— how you tried to brush it off so casually. he knew “the same” meant worse, meant you were still walking on eggshells at home, trying not to provoke a man who had no right treating you— his own daughter the way he did. daryl knew about your situation from the day he had met you, but it still made his blood boil to think of anyone hurting you.

without another word, daryl pulled you into his chest, his arms wrapping around you protectively. you melted into him, letting out a breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding. his embrace was warm, solid, and safe— everything your home wasn’t.

“i hate that you gotta go through this,” he whispered into your hair. he knew it wasn’t easy, getting away from a home life like that. hell, he barely made it out alive himself. “i hate that ya flinch like that, like you’re expectin’ me to hurt ya. i’d never…”

you leaned your forehead against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your skin. “i know,” you whispered back. “i’m sorry.”

“don’ be,” he said firmly, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. “don’ you dare apologise for somethin’ that ain’t yer fault.”

you didn’t argue. there was no point. daryl could be stubborn, but when it came to you, he was also fiercely protective.

“i ain’t lettin’ you go back there tonight,” he added, his tone final. “yer stayin’ with me tonight, okay? merle’s out for the weekend. it’ll just be us.”

you blinked, caught off guard by his offer. “daryl, i can’t—“

“ya can,” he interrupted, his hands resting on your shoulders as he gazed down at you with such intensity that it made your heart race. “i don’ want ya goin’ back there. not tonight. not any night. hell, ya can stay here as long as ya want. we got room.” he was right. he and merle had finally gotten their own little trailer in the park— simply to try and avoid their own father. sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.

your eyes welled up with emotion, the weight of everything hitting you all at once. “you really mean that?”

“‘course i do,” he cupped your cheeks gently, brushing a thumb over your skin. “i ain’t ever lettin’ anyone hurt you again.”

his words were more than a promise— they were a cow. you could see it in the way he looked at you, the way his rough exterior softened when he was with you. he meant every word.

a tear slipped down your cheek, but daryl wiped it away with a tender smile. “don’ cry, baby. you deserve better than all this crap.”

“i know, but—“ you swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to pull yourself together. “i don’t know what i’d do without you,” you admitted, your voice trembling with gratitude.

“you ain’t gotta worry ‘bout that,” he said, his tone gentle but full of resolve. “i ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

he gave you a small smile, and the tension between you both finally began to dissolve. daryl wasn’t much of a planner, but the next words out of his mouth were proof that he’d been thinking about this for a while.

“tell ya what,” he said, nudging you playfully. “how ‘bout tomorrow, i take you out? just us. get away from this place for a while. i’ll take ya to that diner ya like, and we’ll watch that stupid movie yer been goin’ on about.”

you couldn’t help but laugh through your tears. “you hate that movie.”

“yeah, but i like ya, so i’ll suffer through it,” he teased, and just like that, the heavy mood lifted a little more.

you reached up, standing on your toes to press a soft kiss to his lips, and daryl’s arms tightened around you, holding you close. “thank you,” you whispered.

“for wha’?”

“for making me feel safe.”

daryl kissed the top of your head, his breath warm against your hair. “always, darlin’. always.”

[missyonmission]

NSFW - no minors - smut with plot

Plot: You are the campus sweetheart. A high-class, rich girl who's always following the rules. Super kind and friendly to everyone. You are at the top of every class and put your focus and time on studying and family matters, just like you were raised to.

But what happens when you find yourself in one room with the campus troublemaker himself, letting yourself go for the very first time in your life and let him introduce you to a completely new world? A world full of carefree fun, lust, and love, like you never experienced before...

Warnings: bad boy! Sukuna - rich girl! Reader - drug use (Weed) - first time smoking - kinda forced intoxication? (reader is curious but persuaded into it) - shotgunning - making out - inexperienced!reader - sex under the influence - protected sex - markings (hickeys, biting) - multiple rounds - missionary - doggy - cowgirl - getting caught in the act - after care

Word count: 13.438

Might write more chapters to this. Already have a few drafts in the works...

You are skipping over to the boys dormitory after class to work on a project with Itadori, greeting a few people on your way with a polite smile and short small talk about classes, professors and extracurriculars, denying some invitations to parties and movie dates.

When you arrive at the boys' dormitory, you write down your name in the guest book and make your way upstairs. You knock on the door, expecting Itadori to open it, but to your surprise, you are greeted with the face of his roommate.

Sukuna Ryomen. You only heard stories about him, sometimes seeing him lurking around campus with his shady friends. At first, one could think that Sukuna and Itadori are related, but despite their similar features and the hair color Itadori copied, because he thought it was kind of cool, the two of them share no similarities. Sukuna Ryomen just happened to be a lot scarier than the bubbly ball of excitement that was Itadori Yuji.

“He’ll be here in about 20 minutes or so. You can stay or whatever. Doesn’t make a difference to me. If you do stay though, don’t touch anything on the fuckin’ table.” Sukuna said, rubbing his knuckles against the tattoos on his face tiredly.

You timidly walk into the dorm room. "20 minutes isn't that long, I can wait." You smile politely at him, not wanting to give into the temptation of judging a book by its covers.

The room is barely lit, and it was smelling a lot like weed and sweat. You put your stuff down on Itadori's bed before sitting down on it carefully. You look around the room, not knowing what to do now and slightly swinging your feet. Maybe you should have just come back later, you think to yourself.

Sukuna glances at you for a moment as you sit down on Itadori’s bed. Despite you being polite, there was an obvious air of anxiety surrounding you. He just can’t tell if you are anxious about him… or if it was something else. But he did care to find out.

Sukuna’s eyes flicked down to your legs for just a brief moment before he let out a low, tired sigh and took a drag from the joint he held. “You’re one of the teacher’s pet types, ain’t ya?”

Your head whippes around to look at him, your eyes traveling up and down his body for a second before settling on his face. "We aren't allowed to smoke in the dorms. And I'm sure we aren't allowed to smoke THAT at all." You are referring to the weed he is currently consuming, coughing out a little when the smell hits your nose.

He smirks at the way you look at his body, finding it rather humorous. He thought your comment on smoking was cute, a little on the naive side, though. But hey, he preferred it if you were a little oblivious… it would make things more interesting.

“Yeah, well, we aren’t allowed to do a lot of things here, and yet… we still do them.” He takes another drag, letting the smoke waft through the room before exhaling in your direction. A smirk forming on his lips at the way you cough again.

You only scowl in confusion, trying to think about what kind of things he is referring to. Alcohol, drugs, staying out past curfew? Sex? The thought of him doing sexual stuff in this room makes you blush, your eyes darting from him to his bed for a split second. "No, we don't. Not all of us take joy in breaking rules, you know?”

He sees the way you look towards his bed for a brief, fleeting moment. And he chuckles darkly, taking another drag from his joint and slowly exhales before speaking. "Is that right, princess? I find that hard to believe. Breaking the rules is fun… you’re just too much of a goodie-two shoes to take advantage of it."

He looks you up and down again, taking in your features more closely. You are pretty… and shy, too. A delicious combo, he thought to himself.

You let out a scoff at his words. "And what do you want me to do, huh? Be more like you? Go out past curfew to some shitty bars and get drunk on a weekday? Smoke cigarettes and weed the whole day instead of going to classes? Have Sex in a rather… untidy dorm room and get myself an STD instead of studying?"

It is unusual for you to get so worked up over this. Normally, you are able to hold in your emotions better, but you had a stressful week, and he hit a nerve. Yes, you are a ‘goodie-two shoes’ but you didn't really have a choice on that matter. You had family expectations to uphold and are under a lot of pressure. As much as you wanted to, you can't just do whatever you want. It's careless and reckless, and nothing good would come out of it.

Sukuna is surprised by your little fit, but it is rather fun to watch. He lets out another chuckle as you list off everything you don’t do, listening intently and closely to what you say.

“Yeah… basically.” He says bluntly, taking another drag from his joint. “Life’s short, princess. Live it while you can. You’ll never get to experience this time again, y’know?” He smirks at you, taking a few steps forward to close in on the gap between you both.

He is standing right in front of you, towering over you while you sit on Itadori’s bed. His crotch leveling with your face, making your eyes dart down for a moment. Of course, he notices the way your eyes dart down, and he chuckles to himself, a look of wickedness growing on his face.

You look up at him with narrowed eyes, anger, and frustration clearly swirling behind your orbs. "Could you at least not be smoking weed while I am here? When Itadori comes back, we have a project to work on." You grit out through your teeth.

He took another drag from the joint before holding the smoke inside his mouth and taking another small step forward, closing the gap between you both even more now. “Aww… don’t be such a buzzkill, princess. What’s a little weed gonna do? I smoke it all the time, and I’m still fine.” He leaned down a little so he could be closer to your face.

Again, he is blowing his stupid smoke into your face, and you swear, you could already feel your head getting lighter. Was it the anger, or is it possible to get high this quick from just a few secondhand hits?

"Stop doing that!" You are clenching your jaw in frustration. "And clearly, you're not fine. Your brain definitely took damage already, seeing how you act like a defiant child. You are an arrogant ass AND you are trouble, Sukuna. Stop getting me involved with your stupid games. Get another girl for it." You huff out in annoyance after your little rant.

Sukuna chuckles at your comment, enjoying the way you are so easily annoyed and enraged. It was funny seeing you get so worked up over such trivial things, and the way your cute, angry face scrunches up when you are frustrated is like a cherry on top.

He continues to hold another blow of smoke in his mouth while you rant, not letting himself exhale quite yet. And when you finally stop, he slowly begins to speak again. The smoke leaves through his lips and wafts in the air between you. “Aww… and here I was thinking you were playing hard to get, princess.”

You are swatting the smoke away with your hand, biting back another sassy comment. "Just smoke your stuff on your side of the room." You say while pushing him away by his legs.

You crawl up on Itadori's bed and over to the window, opening it. Unknowingly, giving Sukuna a good view of your ass under the short skirt in the process. You try to breathe in some fresh air, your head buzzing like crazy.

Sukuna allows you to push him away, rolling his eyes and taking a step back, but a smirk grows on his face when you crawl over the bed. He doesn’t move from his spot, enjoying the view and watching you intently, taking in the sight of your ass.

He chuckles to himself and takes a couple more drags from the joint before tossing it into an ashtray. He smirks as he speaks. “Careful… don’t want anyone looking up and seeing you, princess. Imagine the talk around campus when you get caught with the troublesome bad boy.”

You just roll your eyes at him, and silence is falling over you two while you wait for Itadori to come back. But he never did. Not after 20 minutes and not after 30 minutes. In the meantime, Sukuna sits on his bed with an amused smile on his face.

He’s watching you, how you sit by the window, and look outside for Itadori every few minutes. He knows damn well that Itadori isn’t coming over. He had sent him a message as soon as he saw your cute little ass, to not come back until way later.

He smirks to himself and sits still for a few good minutes, just watching you as you begin to grow frustrated and worried. “Think he ain’t coming, princess.”

"Stop saying that!" You hiss, looking outside for Itadori again. "Maybe he forgot? Wouldn't be a first..." You mumble quietly to yourself before returning your gaze to Sukuna.

"Are you just going to lounge around your room for the rest of the day? It's Friday. Don't you have anything better to do?” You raise your eyebrows at him, clearly annoyed by his presence. It's his room, and you could just leave, but this project with Itadori was important, and you have to get this done today or otherwise it wouldn't fit into your schedule. Sukuna is usually out partying every fucking day but not today… something about it seems suspicious to you.

He smirks, watching as you grow more and more frustrated as time passes. It is so cute seeing you this way, completely ignorant of the fact that he is the reason Itadori isn’t here. This whole situation is his doing… and he is enjoying every minute of it.

“That’s exactly what I’m gonna do. Laze around and probably get high. And, I don’t know… have a little fun.” He chuckles again, his smirk widening as he looks over your body, his mind obviously thinking something perverted.

You lean out of the window again before closing it. Sitting on your knees on Itadori's bed, you fumble with the hem of your skirt and think about what you should do now.

You scoff at Sukuna's comment. "Of course you would. Is weed the only thing you love in life? If you weren’t so damn irritating, I would honestly feel sad for you.”

Sukuna chuckles again, a little more darkly this time. He took in your pose, sitting on your knees on the bed like a good girl, your skirt riding up just slightly as you fiddle around with it… it is quite a sight to behold, one that he wouldn’t mind getting used to.

He sits up on his bed, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms behind his head as he watches you on the bed at the other side of the room, a smirk still on his face. “You say it like it’s a bad thing, princess. Weed is fun. You’d know that if you weren’t so… straight-edged.”

His words aren't really registering. Your mind is still focused on how you would be able to finish this project today if Itadori doesn't show up. "Well, I guess I would have to try it to know..." You say absentmindedly.

That catches his attention. His head perks up when you say that, raising an eyebrow in curiosity as he smirks a little. “Oh, yeah? You have to try it, huh? Well… I got plenty of stuff here I could let you try.” He sat up properly on the bed, looking at you intently as he spoke, waiting to gauge your reaction.

You shake your head out of your own thoughts and look at him in disbelief, your face scrunching in confusion. "What? What are you talking about? I would never take this stuff. It messes with your head." You give him another eye roll. "And even if I would ever try smoking, you would be the last person I wanna hit my first blunt with, Sukuna.”

He chuckles, enjoying the way you react to his suggestion. He watches the confusion and disbelief slowly morph onto your cute face, another smirk growing on his own as he speaks again. “Messes with your head?”

He laughs at that, amused by the fact that you didn’t know the first thing to do with marijuana. “Oh come on, princess… it’s not that bad. And I could take real good care of you… you’d never know the first thing about gettin’ high… Let me teach ya.”

"Take care of me, huh?" You raise an eyebrow at the innuendo behind his offer. Your eyes are darting from him to the ashtray, lingering on the remains of the joint he was smoking earlier. You look back at him, a scowl on your face. "You can't even take care of yourself, Sukuna.”

He shrugs his shoulders at your comment. He couldn’t argue with that. You had a point there. He probably couldn’t take good care of himself even if he tried. But you… he’d take real good care of you… At least he liked to think he would.

“Eh, maybe I can’t. But I think I’m good at taking care of… other people. I’m real good with my hands, y’know.” He smirks again, his gaze lingering over your body.

"I would sure hope so, seeing all you do with your fingers is rolling blunts the whole day." You let out an exaggerated sigh. "Stupid Itadori…" You mutter to yourself.

He chuckles at your comment, knowing damn well that you are right. He did spend most of his time rolling things with his fingers.

Then you suddenly stand up and make your way over to his bed, sitting down on it with a huff. Getting more comfortable next to him with your skirt riding up in the process. "So~, how does this work, huh?”

He has to admit, you are looking real cute, the way you hop up from the bed and sit down on his, your skirt riding up, so that a bit more of your thighs are showing. He’s getting more excited and enticed as you sit down beside him, your body so close to his. “Alright, princess, lemme teach ya a thing or two about smokin’. First off, you gotta come closer. You’re too far away for me to teach you properly.”

He just puts his arms around your waist and manhandles you to sit between his legs, your back flush against his chest. "I don't think this is a proper position..." You state quietly but don't make any attempt to actually stop him.

He chuckles as he grabs you and moves you to his liking, his laugh turning to a smirk as he leans forward a little and puts his chin on your shoulder, his lips right next to your ear as he whispers to you.

“Nah… I think it’s the perfect position for… teaching. It’s so I can show you everything real easily, princess.” He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you even closer to him, basically trapping you in his hold now.

You look over your shoulder at him. Your faces are so close that you can feel his breath against your lips. "And- and what do I do now?" Your voice is barely above a husky whisper, a little bit of curiosity mixed with anxiety and insecurity lying beneath.

He smirks as his face gets closer to your own, staring deeply into your eyes. You look so innocent, so… naive. You have no idea what you are about to get yourself into. “For now? Just relax. It’ll be a small hit at first. Nothin’ too bad, okay, princess?”

He lets go of your waist with one hand, reaching over to the table beside the bed. He grabs a new joint and a lighter, quickly flicking it on and lighting up the end of the blunt.

He takes a hit and lets the smoke hang in the air between you, your nose crinkles when you take in the smell. You reach out to take the joint out of his fingertips, concentrating on not letting it fall down with how nervous you are. Your eyes flicker to his for reassurance before lifting the joint to your lips.

He chuckles as he watches you try to take your first hit. You look nervous and anxious, your hand trembling a little as you take the joint delicately from his hands. He smirks as he gets a good glimpse at you, you're so cute it's almost unfair to do what he had planned.

When you inhale for the first time, you immediately start a coughing fit and look at him over your shoulder with a pout.

He laughs out loud when you start to cough up a storm and takes the joint out of your hands for another hit. “Oh princess… I know you’re not experienced with this but goddamn, you coughed like crazy. C’mon… try again.”

You are still coughing a little bit, letting out a huff of air and denying the joint he holds up for you to take again.. You try to stand up from your position between his legs, shuffling forward and away from him, your hands on his thighs to stabilize yourself as you scoot forward. "Maybe this wasn't a good idea, maybe I should just-"

He chuckles when you start to stand up from your spot, and the feeling of your hands on his thighs made him grow even more excited for what the night could hold. He quickly reaches out and grabs your hips, pulling you back down so that you were sitting between his legs again.

“Nah… I think you should give it another shot, princess. It ain’t gonna get better if you don’t try more than once.” He wraps his arms around your waist again, holding you in place.

You let out a small whine, clearly embarrassed that it didn't work out well the first time. "Sukuna, please~" You look back into his eyes, your pout only intensifying. "Maybe some people are just not born to do this and maybe I am one of those people..."

Your hands instinctively hold onto his forearm, which is securely placed around your waist, for comfort. You don't even notice you are pressing your back into his chest a little more.

He smirks as you whine and look at him, pouting. You look so good, in every sense of the word, it's almost too much to handle. Seeing how embarrassed you are about trying and failing at something was just… adorable. He loves the way you are so helpless… it gives him too much power over you.

When you begin to nuzzle into his chest, he chuckles at how innocent and adorable you are. He holds you just a bit tighter, your little body now trapped against his own. “Nonsense, princess… you’re not a quitter, are you? C’mon… just give it one more try.”

You try two more times, slowly getting better at it, but your lungs are still not used to the smoke. By the third try, you're coughing just a tiny little bit after your hit. Your mind is a little bit fuzzy and dead set on making this work eventually.

"That wasn't too bad, was it?" You look at him with a bright smile full of excitement, clearly wanting him to praise you for getting better.

He chuckles again, enjoying the way you are so determined to keep going. You are doing better each time, and after some time, you are almost able to hold it in without coughing.

He takes the joint out of your hand and takes a hit of it himself before leaning down and blowing the smoke to your lips, watching your reaction as your mind slowly begins to get a little more hazy. “See? You’re a natural, princess… you’re gonna be smokin’ like a pro in no time.”

You had a pleased smile on your face, your eyes crinkling a little, and a blush involuntarily creeps up your cheeks. You already feel more relaxed and lean yourself back against Sukuna. It feels good to just lay in his arms, somehow safe and secure.

"But still not perfect." You huff out. You are a perfectionist and would not give up until you have this down perfectly. "Let me try another!" You exclaim enthusiastically, turning around a little over your shoulder to look at him. His crimson red eyes are beautiful. You never noticed how much they stand out to his usual appearance and get lost in them for a moment before your gaze flickers down to his lips briefly.

He smiles, watching as you begin to relax. He loves the feeling of your body against his own, the way you were so comfortable and trusting with him. He could get used to this very easily.

He raises an eyebrow when you ask to try again, a smirk growing on his face when you turn around and look at him. He watches your eyes flicker down to his lips and back up, and he couldn’t help but bite back a chuckle. It seems like the weed was affecting you…

"How about we try something to help you hold it in, huh?”

"Yes, I wanna!" He couldn't even finish his explanation on what you're going to do when you interrupt him eagerly.

He is shuffling you around like you weighed nothing at all until you are sitting next to him, pressed into his side and your legs now thrown over his lap, your arms automatically go to wrap around his bizeps. You are looking at his every move intensely and waiting for him to tell you what to do next. Letting your eyes roam his figure in the process.

His smirk grows into a smile when your excitement gets the better of you. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself when you instantly jumped into the position he wanted. You looked so cute and eager, like a puppy ready for a treat. He looked at you intently before speaking, his voice low and deep as he spoke to you. “Now, all you gotta do is open your mouth, and I’ll help you take that hit nice and smoothly…”

You nod your head ‘yes’ frantically, ready for whatever comes next. Or at least you thought so...

He watches as you nod your head, the look of excitement on your face filling him with a sense of pride. You look so willing to do whatever he told you to do, and he loves that about you. He loves how you listen to him like a good girl, how you want to please him. It is so cute and adorable, and it only serves to rile him up more.

His free hand comes up and holds your chin in between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up to make you look at him. His thumb runs over your bottom lip, and you comply immediately, parting your lips for him.

Sukuna takes a hit from the joint, leaning in closer and connects your lips in a slow kiss, shotgunning the smoke into your mouth and making you take it. He immediately slips his tongue between your lips, blowing the smoke towards your mouth and making sure to keep the kiss going. No coughing, no interrupting the kiss. Instead, your hand finds the back of his head, returning the kiss more eagerly.

He couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, feeling you return it with just as much enthusiasm, your hand going to the back of his head to pull him closer. He loves how eager you are. It really was too cute.

The kiss keeps going, the smoke slowly going up between you two when you exhale into his mouth. You shuffle into a new position, straddling his lap and sitting on top of him, your lips never parting.

He could feel himself getting more and more worked up the longer the kiss went on, his hands going to your hips and gripping them as you straddle his lap, sitting on top of him now. He couldn’t believe how eager you are, even making the next step on your own accord. You look so cute and adorable, all hazy and happy.

When he finally breaks the kiss and leans his forehead against yours, you are breathing heavily. Your eyes glazed over with the effects of the drug and a lazy smile spreading across your face. "Didn't cough once. I like this method." You whisper against his lips.

He chuckles and smiles against your lips when you tell him you didn’t cough once, looking into your eyes and seeing how clouded they are. You are really beginning to feel the effects now. "No, you didn’t cough at all… you did perfectly.”

You chuckle at his praise, leaning back with one arm still around his neck and the other taking the joint from him. Bringing it to your lips, taking a deep hit, and blowing the smoke straight into his face. Your eyes holding his gaze the whole time. "So… What's the next step?”

He just watches as you lean back, taking the joint from him and lifting it to your lips, taking another hit, and then blowing the smoke directly into his face. It caught him a little off guard, not gonna lie, and he couldn’t deny that it… really turned him on. Especially with the way you looked at him with that cute, hazy expression on your face.

He smirks at your question, his hands gripping your hips a little tighter and pulling you closer to him. "Next? Well... I think you deserve a little reward, don't you? All of this just made me want one thing, and I know you’re gonna enjoy it too.”

You smile at him, taking another hit and connecting your lips in another kiss again, blowing the smoke directly into his mouth. He returns the kiss hungrily, making you moan into the kiss.

The feeling of your lips against his once more, the smoke entering his system as you push it deep into his mouth, causes him to let out a low growl. He happily returns the kiss, his tongue immediately slipping into your mouth, taking in all the smoke you blew into his mouth as he deepens the kiss. He is craving you, wanting to feel more of you, and he wasn’t about to let this little moment go to waste.

He smirks into the kiss as he takes the joint from you, taking one final hit before putting it out in the ashtray on the nearby nightstand. In one swift movement, he flips you over onto your back, now hovering over you on the bed and staring down at you with a hungry and lustful look in his eyes. "Such a good girl, you deserve a nice, big reward, don't you?”

The one hand that isn't still holding onto the back of his neck comes up to trace along the tattoos of his jawline. Your eyes take in his appearance on top of you, the way his eyes are just a shade darker with lust, his jaw clenched because he has to hold himself back, the way his tattoos are standing out against his skin. He looks mesmerizing, and you wonder how you never noticed how handsome he really is before.

He feels the way your hand traces over the tattoos on his jaw, feeling your eyes roam over his face. He knows you could feel the way he was holding back, how much he wants you, and how badly he was trying to hold himself back from just… pouncing on you right then and there. He can see the way your eyes look at him, and it only made him even more eager to break you completely. He couldn’t help but smirk down at you. "You like what you see, princess?”

You let out a hum, confirming his statement without realizing it, and you have to actively pry your eyes from his features to look back into his eyes again. Your pupils are blown wide from the high, and your head feels cloudy. It was a strange feeling but somehow… For once… everything feels perfect.

"Sukuna?" Your voice comes out in a shaky whisper. "You will take care of me, right? Really good care, I mean? I'm not really experienced in these kinds of things, so…”

He can't help but smirk at your response, the way you don’t even realize that you are so openly admiring his appearance. You are so high already, so gone, that you aren’t even fully aware of what you are saying. He couldn’t get enough of seeing you in this state, so vulnerable and completely at his mercy. It makes him want to do all kinds of things to you… all kinds of things no one has ever done to you before.

The way you ask if he would take care of you, he loves how submissive you are right now. "Of course, princess. I’ll take good care of you, I’ll make sure you’re all nice and safe with me. I won’t be too rough, okay?”

You shake your head ‘no’, your eyebrows furrowing in dislike at the thought of him holding back for you. You don't want that. "No. Don't hold back, please. I don't want you to hold back. You- you can be rough with me. Can do to me whatever you want, Sukuna."

Your mind is clouded, and so is your judgment. You aren't a virgin anymore. You just never went past that first time in high school, and right now, you want to experience more. More with him and act like a normal reckless college girl for once. At least for tonight, you want to let yourself go, not having to think too much about life and its problems and give the power over to someone else. You already got so far. You couldn't back down now. You didn't want to back down now.

The way you shake your head ‘no’, your eyebrows furrowing in disapproval at the idea of him holding back for you, it makes him grin like the cocky bastard he is. He could tell that you are high and probably aren’t thinking straight, but he doesn’t care. He loves that you are begging him to lose control, to give in to his primal side, to take what he wants in a completely feral and rough way. You have no idea what you are getting yourself into…but he was happy to show you.

The idea of you letting him do whatever he wants with you is way too enticing, and he will definitely be taking advantage of it. He is going to make you his. "You sure, princess? You wanna be my little doll tonight?”

"Yes." It is a simple answer that doesn't need much explanation. "Just- just tell me what to do, please." Your voice a hushed whisper.

He smirks as you answer, a single yes being all he needs to know you want this. He knows that your mind is clouded and that you aren’t making the best decisions, that you are under the influence of the drugs, but he couldn’t care less. You are willingly giving yourself to him, asking him to take control, and he is going to make sure you feel it. "Take off your clothes for me, nice and slow. Okay, princess?”

He is removing himself from you, taking his place on the bed with his back against the wall. You slowly lift yourself up, standing in front of the bed and looking around the room for a second. On shaky legs, you walk to the small music box on his desk, putting on some random sultry music and turning around to him with a small smile. You take off your clothes, give him a show in the process, and dance to the music. You're giving him something you could compare to a sloppy first time strip tease, a few cute little giggles and chuckles leaving your lips as you stumble around and lose yourself in the moment, the drugs helping you to relax and take away the pressure of your life.

Sukuna smirks as you stand up from the bed and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you as you walk across the room, the way your legs tremble from being so high and the little smile on your face. He sits back, resting against the wall with his legs sprawled out in front of him as he watches you, seeing you completely stripping down in front of him. He loves the way you move to the music, completely lost in your own little world as you give him a private show.

He watches you move, laughing and giggling, and he is already getting more and more worked up. When you are completely naked, you walk over to him. He is offering you his hand to take, and you do without questioning while crawling back into his lap again.

When he feels your hand slide into his own, the smirk on his face is growing, and his hands immediately go to your hip, resting on your waist and holding you against him.

Once you are seated, you look into his eyes for a second before burying your head in the crook of his neck, giving him small little kisses along the skin. "Was that nice and slow enough for you? I did a good job, didn't I?" You murmur against his neck, looking for approval.

Your soft kisses along his skin are making him let out a deep breath. "Yeah, you did a good job, princess. Such an obedient little thing, you look so perfect like this, don’t you? Sitting pretty in my lap, all naked and ready for me."

If you had been in the right state of mind, you probably would have been embarrassed. Begging for approval so desperately, and it's kinda sad if you think about why you behave like this. Why you search for approval from the people around you so much and strive for perfection in everything you do. But right now, under the influence of the drug, you don't care about anything but him and his hands on your skin spreading a fire in their wake.

He could tell that you aren’t quite yourself, the good little college sunshine, finding herself all lewd and naked in the lap of someone like him. You definitely wouldn't be in this state if sober. You are so needy and submissive right now, it is nice to see how much you crave him, how much you need his validation but he doesn’t mention it, he knows you are too far gone to even register it anyways. You only care about him right now, and he loves the way his touch feels on your body. It almost makes him feel bad for taking advantage of your fucked up psychological issues, that probably led you into his arms in the first place. Almost…

"Pretty unfair, it seems, don't you think so?" You say, leaning back in his lap and tugging at his shirt, wanting it gone already. Your eyes are roaming over his body, wondering how many tattoos are hiding under that shirt of his.

He couldn’t help but chuckle as you lean back and start messing with his shirt, tugging at it and making it clear you want it gone. Your eyes are still cloudy from the drug, and he could see you looking at his body. He smirks at your comment, tilting his head to look at you with a mischievous grin on his face. "Unfair, hm? What do you mean? Tell me, princess, what’s unfair?”

Nonetheless, he removes his shirt, and your breath is catching in your throat when you finally lay eyes on his bare torso. There are more tattoos than you anticipated, and judging by the lines of ink that are hiding beneath the fabric of his pants, there are even more you haven't seen yet.

It got you excited, the thought of touching him. His touch feels like heaven on your skin. Every sense of yours heightened because of the drug, and you wonder if he would feel like you when your fingers finally make contact with his bare skin.

He can feel your breath hitch as his shirt comes off, your eyes taking in the sight of his bare torso and the way all the tattoos he has on his arms and face continue down and cover a good portion of his chest and stomach. Your eyes are wide as you stare at him, and you obviously want to touch him, to feel him, and he looks at you with a knowing smirk on his face. "Go on, princess, you can touch them, you know?”

Your hand reaches out to touch him but is stopping midair. "Would it feel good for you? My touch, I mean. Would it feel as good as yours on me?" You wonder.

"Your touch feels so different on my skin, like…like electricity running through every vein. It's the drug, I know, but- Would it feel the same for you? Even though you are used to this feeling? I mean, can you even get used to this? Everything is so..." Your eyes roll into the back of your head, and you throw it back with a moan in the middle of your drug-induced ramble when his hands start rubbing up and down your waist. The hand that was still in between your two bodies is now placed flat against his sternum.

He watches as your hand pauses in the air, just inches away from his body, clearly wanting to feel him. He listens to you ramble about how his touch feels on your skin. He loves how you describe it as electricity, running through every vein. He can't help but touch you, feel up the curves of your perfect body. The way your head tips back and the sound of that beautiful moan gets him going like nothing else since quite some time. You are clearly having a great time under the influence.

"Yeah, princess, I’m used to this feeling. But I can still appreciate how good it feels..." He replies in a low voice. His hands continue to slowly roam up and down your body.

After that, your hands instinctively reach out to lay themselves flat against his chest before roaming from his pecs to his shoulders and down to grasp at his bizeps, holding on for dear life. Your hips start to grind down against him, letting out a hiss at the way the fabric of his pants feels against your bare core.

He loves the way you can’t seem to keep your hands off of his body, feeling your hands move across his bare chest and down to his biceps, gripping onto them and holding on like you are scared to let go. He feels the way your hips start to grind against him, your body desperate for friction, and he can’t help but let out a deep, low growl in answer to your needy whine.

"So beautiful~. Like your tattoos so much, S'kuna." You whimper out, taking in all of his flexing muscles and tattoos again. Your eyes are half lidded and glazed over with tears from the overwhelmingly heightened feeling of everything that's happening.

He chuckles at your comment, loving how you are clearly overwhelmed by everything going on, your eyes taking in every inch of him. You are out of it, and he enjoys every second of it. "Yeah, princess?”

"What next? Need more, please~. What am I supposed to do next?" Your hands fly around his neck again, playing with the strands of his hair, and you pull him a bit closer, leaning your forehead against his, taking a deep breath and inhaling his scent.

He can tell you are getting impatient, the way you keep grinding your hips against him and cling onto him, clearly wanting more, asking for more. He loves seeing you like this, so dependent, so needy, unable to think for yourself and needing him to tell you what to do next.

He brings his hands to your hips, gently grasping them tightly and keeping you from grinding against him any further as he leans his forehead against yours. He chuckles at your needy tone and places a soft kiss on the tip of your nose before standing up with you in his arms.

You cling to him like a koala when he suddenly starts standing up and walks the two of you over to his desk, sitting you down on top of it. Opening the drawer and getting out a condom, holding it between his teeth while he opens his pants and leaves them discarded on the floor together with his underwear.

He could see the look in your eyes, the way they dart down to take in the sight of him, and he couldn’t help but feel smug when he saw your reaction. You gulp seeing him bare for the first time, your eyes darting down before he lifts up your chin with two of his fingers, forcing you to look at him and not anything else.

You look into his eyes before they quickly dart to the condom, still stuck between his teeth and up to his eyes again. You honestly don't know where you found the confidence. Maybe it was the drug, but who cares... One of your hands was slowly traveling down from his chest to his abdomen before going even lower and wrapping your small hand around the base of his cock, trying your best to please him with your hands. Your eyes are on his the whole time and you bite your lips when he lets out a groan.

He lets out a low growl as your hand creeps lower and lower, and his gaze darkens as he watches you bite down on your lip while he lets out another deep groan. "Princess, what are you-”

Your other hand snatches the condom from his mouth, ripping it open with your teeth. "Can we please move this further faster? Want to feel you all over me. Just everywhere, please."

You try to convince him with your desperate pleas and a pout on your face, wanting to feel that amazing electric tingle again when he touches your skin. You can only imagine how amazing he will feel inside of you. All over you, clouding every nerve ending in your body with his presence.

He is completely caught off guard when you snatch the condom from his mouth, ripping it open with your teeth. He is about to say something, but your desperate pleas stop him. The pout on your face and the way you plead for him to move things forward makes his mind cloud over with lust and desire for you.

"Sukuna… I'm ready. I just want to feel you, please~."

It's all he needs to hear, chuckling at your eagerness before gripping at your hips, pulling you forward to the edge of the table. His hands are going to part your legs, almost aggressively pushing them apart, before rubbing the tip of his member through your folds a few times. He takes the condom from you, his eyes not leaving the spot between your thighs.

"Yeah, princess, we can move on. You're still sure I don't need to be gentle?" When all he gets is a strangled whine of his name, he takes it as a yes and quickly puts on the condom with practiced ease before lining himself up and with a last cocky smirk, he’s pushing forward while looking at your face, wanting to gauge your every reaction.

The sensation takes your breath away, the mix of pleasure and pain makes you grip tightly at his bizeps again, and your nails dig into his skin, deep. Your vision goes black for a second from the sheer size your body desperately tries to accommodate. Your eyes are rolling into the back of your head, a loud lewd moan of his name leaving your lips, and your head tips forward against his chest. For a moment, you think you're able to see the gates of heaven...or was it hell? You don't know, and you definitely don't care as long as the feeling will stay.

He is taken aback by the sharp sting on his skin when you cling onto his biceps, your nails digging into his skin so deep he is sure they'll leave marks. He can feel your breath hit his chest as you lean onto him, the sound of his name from your lips like music to his ears.

He's lifting your head from his chest with a tight grip on your jaw, looking into your dilated pupils with a smug smirk. He's enjoying how overwhelmed you are. You are beautiful and he can't believe he's actually fucking the good little rich girl everyone around campus adores like a common whore on his desk. He's taking in the sight of you before he bends himself over you, resting his other hand down onto the table to support himself as he begins to move against you, his chest pressed against yours.

He's setting a relentless pace from the start, not caring to give you a minute to breathe or considering your inexperience. You feel so damn fucking tight around him, he thinks he's loosing his mind. You look way too good like this and he shouldn't enjoy this as much as he is. You're just another name on his long list of different girls, a pretty little girl for a quick fuck. But he has to admit, you're a good one.

"Fuck! Feels so good S'kuna" You are not a person to use swear words but in the past minutes of him pounding into your tight walls countless swears, pleas, moans and whines left your lips. You just can't hold back, your whole body feels like it is on fire, every touch of his setting you ablaze. Your hands cling to him desperately, your lips connecting in heated kisses again and again until one of you runs out of breath and you could feel your impending orgasm on the tip of your tongue.

"So good, princess." He mutters against your lips, returning your kisses, each one more frenzied than the last, the two of you only breaking apart when you run out of breath before he's diving back in, not getting enough of you. He can feel your body trembling against his, your desperate hands clinging to him as if you are afraid he would disappear.

He feels your orgasm building up, and he knows you are close, the way your body trembles, and your muscles tighten around him. You're holding him in a vice like grip, almost making it hard for him to move in and out. You really want him to lose his damn mind, don't you? He grips your hips, increasing his pace, pushing both of you closer and closer to the edge.

You fall apart, and he is right behind you, riding out the waves of pleasure for the both of you with shallow thrusts. Your lips are still connected in needy kisses before leaning his forehead against yours.

He watches as your body trembles and shakes, coming undone completely. He feels your lips on his, both of you too desperate to let each other go just yet, not needing to break apart to catch your breath. He drinks everything in, every little reaction of yours. The way your nose scrunches up and your eyebrows furrow together, how your hazy eyes seem to roll back into your head behind your shut lids, your breaths stuttering in moans that he immediately swallows up in another ray of kisses, tasting you like a starved man.

But he still didn't leave you any time to catch your breath. Throwing away the condom in the trash can under his desk before lifting you off the table. He's holding you stable with one hand around your waist and quickly gets rid of all things lying on the table before bending you over it, his hand firmly pressed against your spine to keep you down. Grabbing a new condom and going right back to where you two left off.

Sukuna inserts himself in one swift motion. The stretch is still a pleasurable pain, but with how your wetness is currently dripping down your legs and after your first orgasm, he has it now way easier to bully his length inside you without much restraint.

Everything is so overwhelming. You forget to actually breathe. Your hands desperately cling to the edge of the table for stability, your legs shaking terribly. Your hips are probably bruised already from the force with which they are being pushed against the edge of the table again and again. The only thing keeping you somewhat grounded is his hand on your back.

He could see you clinging to the edge of the table, your legs shaking and trembling in an attempt to keep yourself stable. He knew your hips will most likely show those beautiful bruises in the morning from the force he was using to push your body against the edge and his strong grip during everything that had already happened and will happen tonight. He could tell you are getting overwhelmed, struggling to even remember how to breathe, and he has no plans of making it any easier for you any time soon. Drugs or not, Sukuna was always at the top of his game.

"Breathe, princess. Don't forget to breathe." He said in a low voice, his tone slightly teasing as he continued his onslaught on your poor pussy.

"I try! I really do! I'm trying but-" You cut off your own words with a hiccup, trying to get at least some air into your lungs but the way his hips move and he repeatedly hits that one perfect spot inside your gummy walls has you reeling. He's everywhere. The only things on your mind are his hands on your body and the way he moves against you.

You can feel yourself tightening up again, the pleasure building up incredibly fast and the knot in your stomach tightening painfully and needing release. One of his hands grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls you flush against his chest.

He chuckles at how easy you are, nipping at your ear before whispering in a rough voice. "Cmon, princess. I know you can do it, just a little bit more, don't pass out on me yet."

One of your hands comes up to grab at the wrist of the hand he had currently entangled in your hair. You lean your head back onto his shoulder, moans and strangled breaths, leaving your open mouth constantly, and there is a little bit of drool at the corner of your mouth.

He smirks as one of your hands comes up to grab at his wrist, your head falling back against him as you let out a steady stream of moans and breaths, which occasionally became strangled and hiccupped. He could see the little bit of drool at the corner of your mouth as you try to keep yourself from passing out and he presses a small kiss against the corner of your lips, letting his tongue dart out to lick the drool from your pretty lips before he suddenly shoves two of his fingers inside your mouth.

"Bite me, and I'll bite you back, princess." He warns in a low voice, his tone rough and just as breathless as your own.

His long and slender fingers in your mouth are making you gag, and this is all you need to be pushed over the edge. Before his sentence even registers in your lust and weed clouded brain you bite down onto his fingers, the taste of blood in your mouth makes you hum out as you come down from your high but Sukuna is not stopping and immediately you can feel yourself getting close to finishing again.

He groans as you bite down onto his fingers, the taste of blood seeping into your mouth, making you hum out in pleasure, clearly enjoying yourself and sending a wave of pleasure through him in return. Feeling the way your body trembles and convulses as you come down from your high, but he had no plans of stopping anytime soon.

Sukuna kept grinding in and out of you, hitting every spot perfectly. Your pussy a perfect fit for his long and girthy cock and he doesn't want to stop. He can't, not before he feels you come undone at least a dozen times more and so he pushes you into overstimulation, taking you over the edge again and again.

Your head falls back against the table, his hand still in your hair and pressing your cheek down against it and you think you might actually die from the way he draws out one orgasm after the other without stopping, without giving you time to breathe and recover. His other hand makes its way to your sensitive bundle of nerves, and just the simple action of pressing his thumb against it makes you convulse and cry out in another wave of pleasure. Finally, he comes after holding himself off for an almost painful amount of time, drawn over the edge with you, and a loud and guttural groan leaves his mouth right into your ear.

He gently removes his fingers from your mouth and wraps his arms around you right under your chest, pulling you close to him and whispering in your ear. "You did good, princess.”

Both your breathing is ragged, the two of you collapsing onto the desk in exhaustion and contentment, and his weight on top of you is helping you through the feeling of emptiness after he pulls out. He is pressing light kisses along your shoulder blades until you calm down. "Come on, princess, you need a hit. Nothing's better than a little something after a good fuck, huh?"

He removes himself from you completely, letting go of you and stepping back, making you collapse onto the floor with a thud as your weak and trembling legs are giving out under you while you still try to breathe.

He chuckles slightly at your current state, watching you struggle to breathe sitting on the floor. "You alright, princess?" He asks, grabbing a joint and a lighter.

He stands in front of you and looks down, his head tilted slightly and a cocky grin on his face. He lights up the joint and inhales before squatting next to you. He blows the smoke straight into your face and holds the joint into your direction, a silent invitation to take it. You take the joint with trembling hands and get a deep hit. The sensation of smoke filling your lungs is making you close your eyes for a second. Then he lifts you up, walks to the bed, and sits you down onto his lap again, wrapping his strong arms around your body and holding you close.

You take another hit, letting the smoke out slowly before taking the two fingers he had stuffed in your mouth earlier between your lips, sucking them in and swirling around them with your tongue. Tasting his blood for a second time is making you hum out again. "I'm sorry about that." You say, still kitten-licking his fingers.

He chuckles as he watches you take another hit, the smoke slowly leaving your lips and your body completely relaxed. He raises his eyebrows as you start sucking on his fingers, your tongue lapping at them and swirling around them, tasting the blood again. He lets out a low sigh when you speak, your gentle apology muffled as you continue licking his fingers. "It's alright, princess. A little bit of pain can be good sometimes.”

"You said you'd bite back." You giggle. "I'd like you to, you know? To bite back, I mean… Would be nice to take a mark with me. Something to remind me of today." Your voice gets quieter, your fingers playing around with his.

He chuckles when you bring up the fact that he said he would bite back. "Are you sure? I bite pretty hard, princess. I don't usually hold back." He says in a low, rough tone. He then notices how your voice gets quieter, your fingers playing around with his, and he could sense the vulnerability in your voice. "Where do you want me to mark you, princess? Somewhere people can see it? Somewhere only I can see it?”

Your head perks up at his sentences. "Can we do both?" You ask curiously, your eyes wide and gleaming with excitement. "Would be nice to show it off to others, I definitely want to do that, but I also want to have something for only the two of us. Something nobody knows. A secret…”

He smirks at your eager question, amused by your excitement. "Of course we can do both, princess. I like the idea of you showing off to others, and I like the idea of having something just for us even more."

He lifts your chin up, tilting your head to the side to expose your neck. He runs his strong, rough hand along your soft, delicate skin, his gaze fixated on you. "The question is, where should we put these bite marks? Any specific places you have in mind, princess?”

"How about we choose one each? Would that be okay for you? I think I already know where I want to have the one I can show off to others..." You look into his eyes, just watching him as he smokes the joint.

He nods at your suggestion, finding the idea of choosing one each to be appealing. "That works for me, princess. I like the sound of that. Why don't you go first and tell me where you want your 'showing off' bite mark to be."

He takes another hit from the joint, his gaze still fixated on you as he exhales the smoke and you take his hand in yours and guide it slowly from the nape of your neck to the expanse of your collarbone. "It's visible enough to peek out under the uniform but not enough to get me in trouble with the school board." You giggle at the thought. "Although I suspect that thanks to you, I will get into trouble more often in the future, huh?”

He watches as you guide his hand to your collarbone, the placement being both visible and discreet enough. He chuckles at your question, a sly smirk appearing on his face. "Oh, princess, you can count on it. I have a feeling we're going to cause plenty of trouble together in the future." He says, his tone suggestive and playful.

You shuffle a little closer in his lap. Your core deliciously rubbing against his twitching cock in the process, making you exhale a breath. You take the joint from his hands taking a last hit before stubbing it out in the ashtray. Looking into his eyes again, your hands are sneaking around his neck, playing with his pinkish hair as you lean in and expose your neck for him.

He watches as you shuffle closer to him. The way your lower bodies rub against each other is making him respond with a new wave of desire, and a low growl escapes his lips. His gaze darkens as you expose your neck to him, his lips curling into a wicked grin as he leans in, his breath hot against your skin.

He starts off slowly, the kisses on your skin light and teasing, his lips softly ghosting over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. When his teeth finally sink into your skin, you can't hold back the breathy moan from escaping your mouth. Your hands are tightening in the strands of his hair and pushing him closer, not wanting him to stop until he draws blood, just like you did, until everyone would know what you two did.

The moment his teeth sink into your skin, feeling you shiver and moan, he knows there was no turning back now. "Don't stop. Feels so good..."

You must be a masochist because the feeling of his teeth on your neck, feeling the blood trickling out of the wound just to get licked up by his tongue, made you incredibly aroused. Your hips are starting to slowly grind against him, making his hands on your hips tighten their hold, and Sukuna continues to kiss and suck and bite bruises into your beautiful smooth skin.

He could feel your body responding to his, grinding against him as he lapped at the blood on your neck. "Good girl..." He whispers, his voice low and sultry.

"Need you, Sukuna. Need you again..." Your hips are still grinding into his, and you can tell that you are not the only one getting aroused again. "Can I- Can I take control this time, please?" You had the desperate desire to feel him again, wanting to make him feel good. Make the two of you feel good, hoping that despite his obvious dominant demeanor, he would allow you to stay on top this time.

When you ask to take control this time, he can see the desperate need in your eyes, and he was powerless to deny you. "Of course you can, princess. You can have as much control as you want. Take the lead and show me what you got, hm?"

He leans back, his hands on your hips loosening their grip, giving you the reins. He looks at you expectantly, his expression somewhere between eager and curious, and you don't need to be told twice when he reaches out for a condom from the nightstand and hands it over to you.

“How many of those do you have conveniently laying around, huh?" You ask, slightly amused as you take a hold of Sukuna's cock, slowly dragging it along your wetness before rolling on the condom and keeping eye contact the whole time.

He chuckles when you take the condom from him, a smirk on his face. "Aww, are you jealous?" He teases, his voice lighthearted. "Don't worry, princess, let's just say I have enough to keep us busy for a long, long time." He chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

You're sinking down slowly, teasing the both of you with your slow movement and when you finally sit down on top of him, you close your eyes in bliss, feeling him even deeper inside your gut than in the other positions before.

He couldn't help but let out a low, content hiss as you slid down on him, your movements slow and deliberate. His eyes dark with desire and his hands gripping your hips tightly as he watches you take him fully, the feeling of your body clenching around him sending jolts of pleasure coursing through his body.

You start rocking your hips slowly, gauging his every expression and finding out what would feel good for not only you but him too before falling into a steady rhythm shortly after. The two of you are lost in pleasure, and soon enough, you are consumed by one another once again. Sharing hungry kisses and hands all over each other. "So good, S'kuna. So deep...so big…”

He watches you intently, his expression one of pure lust as you rock your hips against him. He relishes every little movement you make, every sound that escapes your lips, every expression that flashes across your face. Before long, he is lost in a world of ecstasy, his hands roaming over your body, desperate to touch every inch of you, desperate to pull you closer to him. As you whisper those sweet words in his ear, he can't help but respond, his voice low and strained. "You feel so good, princess... So tight... So perfect.”

You are so lost into your own little world that neither of you notice the keys rattling in the lock. The door opens to a rather tipsy Itadori Yuji."Yo, Sukuna, you wouldn't believe what Choso told me, we went out and-." Itadori is standing in the doorway, shocked and watching the two of us shamelessly. Itadori's words die in his throat as he takes in the scene before him. You, riding Sukuna, the two of you completely consumed by each other and the high.

Sukuna looks at him with a cocky grin on his face, just raising an eyebrow. "Can't you knock, brat?”

You look over as well and hold eye contact for a moment while your hips are not stopping their movement. You couldn't stop, even if you wanted to, with the way Sukuna's hands kept grabbing at your hips and helping you move. You bring your gaze back onto Sukuna and his body before demanding his attention back with a whine.

Sukuna doesn't even bother to cover you up before your desperate whine brings his focus back to you, and he couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head at his younger roommate. Without taking his eyes off of you, he calls out to him. “Close the door, idiot."

As soon as Itadori closes the door behind him, Sukuna's hands on your hips stop your movement. The action makes you let out a frustrated whine. He just stares at you for a moment, his gaze flickering to the mark on your shoulder before a wicked grin spreads across your face.

He flips you over, hovering above you and giving one quick kiss to your lips before moving down the bed, putting your thighs over his shoulders with his face inches away from your private parts. "I'm not done with you yet, princess. Remember when I said I bite hard? Well, let me show you where I plan to leave our little secret.”

Without further warning, he sinks his teeth into your upper inner thigh. The pleasurable pain causes your back to arch from the bed. Instinctively you try to wriggle out of his hold but it was no use, he had you locked in place with his hands around your thighs, one splayed out over your stomach and the other gripping your hips bruisingly. Your hands grip at the strands of his hair and a loud cry leaves your mouth when you come undone from Sukuna leaving his imprint on you, surprising the both of you with just how sensitive you actually are right now.

He still holds you down firmly, not letting you get away as his teeth sink deep into your thigh, leaving behind a bite that will turn into a beautiful bruising mark. Feeling your body writhing in pleasure beneath him, he can't help but chuckle against your skin. "Did you just come from that, princess?”

Sukuna looks up at you, a satisfied grin on his face. The mark he had left on your thigh is already starting to bruise. He runs his tongue lightly over the mark, savoring the taste of your skin and making you moan out again. Only when he is satisfied, he sits back, admiring his handiwork. Your breathing is heavy and ragged, your body quivering with aftershocks, and he leans over you, his lips hovering just above yours, a self-satisfied smile on your face.

"We need to do stuff like this more often." You say with a breathless chuckle. Putting your thighs around his hips, pulling him down a bit with pleading eyes, begging for him to make you feel good again.

Sukuna just sits on his heels and takes in the view of the mark he left on your thigh. It was beautiful, deep and dark, a sure sign that you are his. Your body is trembling, and he smiles down at your words, his chest puffing up with pride. He lets out a low growl of approval, running his hands up your body again before leaning down and connecting you in a deep kiss. "Yeah, we definitely should.”

He immediately sinks back into you, rocking his hips against yours at a harsh brutal pace. His hands are everywhere, and your tongues are tangled with each other, not stopping, not even for breathing. You are both desperate, desperate to feel good, desperate to make the other one feel good, desperate to have more even though it feels like it will never be enough.

Your bodies move together in a frenzied rhythm, his hips slapping hard into the back of your thighs and your mouths and hands never staying still. Both of you are lost in a world solely made for the two of you. The air is heavy with the sounds of labored breaths, the whispers of voices, the sounds of bodies as they come together over and over. His touches are hungry and demanding, his words possessive and primal.

When he feels your body starting to tense and shiver, hinting at your impending release, he lifts your hips up, pressing your thighs close to your chest, the new angle causing you to cry out in pleasure.

It didn't take long for you to fall over the edge, and he is following right behind, collapsing on top of you. The two of you are breathing heavily, and you look at him with a lazy smile, your eyes still dilated from lust and the drug. "I don't think I will ever get enough of this, honestly.”

Sukuna lays on top of you for a moment, your bodies still connected, his head resting on your shoulder and his chest rising and falling, his heart pounding against his ribcage. When he looks up at you, the smile on your face is languid, your eyes still dilated with pleasure. "Me neither, princess. I don't think I'll get enough of you either. You're too damn addictive.”

"More addictive than the substances you throw all day?" You giggle out before giving him a sly, playful look.

A smile appears on Sukuna's face at the mention of his drug use, his arms wrapping around you to pull you closer, not wanting to be apart from you just yet. "Oh, no question about it. You're way more addictive than any substance I've tried so far. You're like this drug I just can't get enough of. Always wanting more, always wanting to have you close to me. I might be in trouble, princess."

A small smile is still on your face when your hands card through his hair and your eyes take in his appearance once again. He is so fucking beautiful. His pink hair is all sweaty and messy, his crimson red eyes dark and dilated from lust, his lips kiss bitten and just as swollen as your own and the black ink stands in contrast to his fair skin.

As you rake your fingers through his hair, he closes his eyes, enjoying the sensation before opening them again and meeting your gaze. There's a look in his eyes that's both intense and soft, a combination that he never showed before, to nobody and something that only you seem to bring out in him.

You just lay in each other's arms in silence for a few minutes. Calming not only your bodies down but also your minds and relishing in the presence of the other as you're replaying the memories of the day.

"I'm kinda hungry... like really, really hungry..." You tell him in a quiet whisper, not wanting to interrupt the peaceful silence more than necessary while still combing through his hair while he leaves small kisses against your shoulder and collarbone.

When your breaths return to a normal pace and your minds slowly come back to reality, you trace lazy patterns on his skin. Sukuna can't believe he actually feels content and somewhat satisfied and…happy? There is no way he would get attached to you, to this. Whatever this is.

As you whisper about being hungry, he can't help but chuckle, his eyes looking down at you. "Of course you're hungry, princess. It's normal to get a little hungry after vigorous activity. What do you wanna eat?”

He sits up on the bed, and you let out a whine at the loss of contact, immediately regretting saying something. He leans over you to reach the nightstand, getting his phone and lighting a cigarette, rolling onto his back beside you in the pillows before holding one of his arms open for you.

You instantly smile brightly and shuffle into his arms again, pressing yourself into him from the side, and he securely wraps an arm around you, enjoying this feeling of having you tucked close to him. "Oh, there is this amazing local diner. They have everything! Pizza, pasta, burgers, and the spare ribs are to die for! We could-" You start talking loudly and all excited about the food before interrupting yourself when you look up at Sukuna and he just stares back with an amused smile, his hands lazily stroking up and down your bare skin.

"I started rambling again, didn't I?" You ask with an embarrassed chuckle, blushing slightly.

"You definitely did, princess," He answers with a chuckle of his own. "It's cute, though. You get really excited when you talk about food.”

"Yeah, that's because this place is really good! You've never been there?" You still start to ramble on and on about how you discovered the restaurant first and tell him a few fun stories you had with your friends at the diner, wether he wants to hear them or not. In the meantime, you two take a look at the menu and place your order for delivery before comfortable silence falls over you. The only sound is the quiet hum of the air conditioning.

"Sukuna, can I ask you something?" Your voice is timid but serious, a hint of curiosity behind your words.

He immediately turns to look at you, his attention fully on you now as he takes a last drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out in the nearby ashtray. "Course you can, ask me anything, princess.”

For a moment, you carefully think over your choice of words, not wanting to make him angry because this question would invade his personal space too much. "Why do you take drugs? I mean, I kinda get the appeal right now..." You chuckle at the thought of yourself being so much against anything that would break a rule just a few hours ago and now you lay in the arms of the college bad boy and are high like a kite.

He can't help but chuckle at the irony of it all. Just a few hours ago, you were so against any form of rule-breaking, and now you're here. The college sweetheart, lying in Sukana Ryomen’s arms, completely wasted and asking about drugs.

You are a little more serious again when investigating further into Sukuna's private life. "But what got you into it? Was it just curiosity, or did something happen or... I mean, how does one find out about all this stuff?"

He listens carefully as you ask your question, his expression impassive but his mind thinking about how he should respond. It's a personal question, something he doesn’t usually get asked by anyone, let alone some girl he hooked up with. But somehow, he doesn’t mind answering you.

"It started out of curiosity. Most of my friends already started smoking weed and drinking at parties, so I tried it out. Soon, I got introduced to more...hard stuff. It was easy to get, and honestly? It took all my worries and stresses away. It made me feel something, pushing away the usual numbness."

"Yeah... I guess I know what you mean..." Your eyes are distant, and your eyebrows furrow as if in deep thought. Memories you keep hidden deep inside of you bubbling to the surface and emotions that are pushed so far back, that you yourself even forgot about them for a moment.

Sukuna can tell that there are memories and emotions buried deep inside, locked away in a place you hardly dare to visit, brought forward in your drug induced state. He just continues to stroke your back, silently telling you it's okay to go on.

“Growing up as a rich girl is not as easy as one might think..." You mumble.

When you speak again, your voice quiet and strained, he can feel the weight behind your words. Your words hang in the air between you two, and he knows there's more to that sentence than you're saying.

You let out a deep exhale and look at him with a small smile. "The next time you need a stress relief, feel free to call me over, okay?"

Your voice is soft, and the vulnerability from a moment ago is gone. The fact that the both of you almost opened up to one another about deep emotional trauma still lingering heavy in the air even though neither of you wanted to admit it. Whatever this thing between you is, it's better if you don't get too personal.

He can tell you're intentionally steering away from the conversation you are having, trying to lighten the mood and keep things casual. Dancing around the edges of each other's emotional walls, with neither of you wanting to get too personal or vulnerable with each other. It's easier that way to keep things nice and uncomplicated.

"Are you telling me that if I ever need to release some stress, you're willing to take one for the team, princess?”

You let out a bright laugh, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet room. "The whole team might be a bit much, don't you think? I've seen the guys you hang out with, and I don't think that would work well with my body. Like I could actually die, I think." The image of your small innocent self with Sukuna's drugged cocky friends plays around in your mind. Yeah... that wouldn't end well.

Your laugh is like music to his ears, the sound filling the room and making his heart skip a beat. Your playful response about the team made him laugh as well. The image of you with his rowdy friends causes a mix of emotions to stir within him - both a bit of jealousy and protectiveness.

Your hands come up to cup his face, squishing his cheeks lightly, your eyes sparkling with amusement and a small hint of affection that you aren't even aware of. "But for you, Ryomen Sukuna, I might make an exception.”

When your hands cup his face, the light squeezes, and the affectionate look in your eyes makes his chest feel tight. But of course, he plays it cool, as always, a smirk appearing on his face as he leans in closer to you.

"Damn right, you will!" He growls while tackling you down playfully into the sheets, his head buried in your neck and leaving small little kisses that would soon develop into another exhausting round of you being bent like a pretzel underneath him.

You spent the rest of the night together. Eating when the food arrives, talking about random stuff, watching a movie, and just getting down from the high.

You could feel the effects of the weed slowly subsiding, and you are surprised that you are still content with being around him. You would have thought the moment your head cleared, you would panic. But you didn't. On the contrary even, you rather enjoy his company.

In the morning, he sent you home with a kiss on your lips and a promise to call again, a subtle promise that there will be a next time.