#you're lucky i know they are/were in different bands

[jettlawrence]

the way i thought it was br*ndon ur*e singing all the spidey and his amazing friends songs and it's p*trick st*mp

[nekomanager]

SORRY, THERE'S ONLY ONE ROOM LEFT ♡ AKAASHI KEIJI

due to unfortunate circumstances you have no other choice but to spend the night, sharing the same room with your charming editor AKAASHI KEIJI

f!reader, pwp, deep penetration, fingering, breast sucking, orgsm delay, cunnilings, mirror sex

“I deeply apologize. We're fully booked for tonight. We only have one room left.”

Tough luck. Now, you’re stuck in a hotel room with a man overnight. It was not just a man, it's your longtime crush and editor, Akaashi Keiji.

Your fingers fumbled as you tried to process everything in your brain.

All of this wasn’t supposed to happen to you. It was his ordinary house visit asking you about the plot of your new work when he suddenly invited you to one of the places in your story for "inspiration".

Talk about being lucky. Akaashi had been working with you for years now. Your admiration for him grew as he was the only man who listens to you ramble about your plots and actually gives his serious and constructive thoughts about them. He's intelligent, attentive and respectful. It's truly admirable.

Add to that, he was charming as hell. Well, his eyes were wistful and lips, peachy. He always reached his hand out for you to shake and you swore you felt nervous every time without fail.

Just when you thought everything would stop with him being so good-looking and fine, you’re wrong. Just a while ago, he opened the cafe door for you as you headed out. He had manners too. He was every man straight out of fiction!

Good grief. He also smelled like olive essence that you wanted to bury your face into his chest. You were sure that time stopped during that moment.

The snow fell hard and the train stopped their operations. Finding a cab home was also impossible. You had no choice but to stay at the nearby love hotel. A love hotel! How ridiculous. An even silly catch was you had to endure sharing it Akaashi.

You sighed, staring at the mirror of your shared room's ceiling. You blushed. We all know what's this for. This is ridiculous!

Donning only the white oversized shirt you got from the vending machine and the disposable panties from the vanity kit, you laid down in bed freshly-bathed, and inspected the buttons at the side table. You were amazed when the light changed different colors from blue to pink. Leaving it there, you pressed a button that made the bed bounce. You panicked and wanted it to stop, but you only increased the speed more which threw you off the bed.

“Ow!" You stumbled on the floor with your lower-half hitting the edge of the bedside table, wounding the back of your left upper-thigh.

“What happened?” Akaashi rushed out of the bathroom, wearing only a towel around his waist with his hair still dripping. Even though you’re in slight sting, you didn’t miss how perfectly toned his abs were as the droplets fell over them.

“I-I’m okay. I just fell out of bed," you said, avoiding to look at his body.

He went beside you and slid an arm behind your knees, carrying you back to bed. Your insides clenched at how your cheek was pressed close to his still drenched chest. The heat of his skin making you hot in the lower region of your body.

Once he laid you down, you shifted a little and a pained expression left you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked.

“Y-Yeah, I guess I just have a little wound.”

Akaashi stood up and went to where he placed his bag, fetching a brown pouch. He brought the item over and pulled out a band-aid. “Where is it?”

You turned your body sideways and lifted your oversized shirt, revealing the small wound at the back of your upper thigh just near below your ass. You were just wearing panties and you knew that so well, but somehow...Maybe you could look a little charming for him too.

Oh, Akaashi sure knew how your charm was working him real bad. You were smart, quirky and witty. You're wonderful. You piqued his curiosity most of the time and he always thought you're cute.

He swallowed dryly. He wasn’t supposed to be doing this. He could just give you the band-aid and let you tend to your own wound, but you're too adorable to resist and the pull of his dick was clouding up his judgment; not to mention the sight of your fleshy thigh before him and that smooth skin was inviting him to come over.

So he did.

He took out the band-aid from its seal and carefully covered your wound.

His light touch and breathing fanned your sensitive skin—it was hot and a little ticklish, sending down tingles in between your legs. His eyes met yours and you held his gaze.

Both of you were panting.

Anticipating.

His stare didn’t leave you as he planted open-mouthed kiss on your thigh. You closed your eyes and breathed through your mouth. Your reaction signaling him that you wanted it too. He kissed even lower, leaving little marks on your thigh as he sucked on your flesh.

The moment he reached your knees, he parted them and got himself in between.

He leaned down and kissed you, tasting and sucking your lips. His hands skimming under your shirt, pulling it up off of you.

Damn!

He felt his cock harden at the contact of your erect nipple against his chest. Hungry for them, his lips traveled down your neck, your collarbone and stopped at one of your nipples. He sucked and twirled his tongue around it and you squirmed under his weight, a wanting moan went out of your lips.

As if sensing your need, he slipped a hand under your panties. The pad of his three fingers flat on your pussy, massaging it with the right kind of pressure. Hearing your heavy breathing was getting him more excited. Your arousal drenching his fingers, tempting him to slip one in.

“Mhmn!”

That just made him add another one in. His mouth transferred to your other nipple and your fingers all tangled in the strands of his hair. Your head felt light. His tongue on your breast and fingers inside your cunt were in the same tempo. Slow, sensuous and torturous. You wanted more and more of him.

You couldn't reason with yourself anymore, begging the man whom you had a totally professional relationship until now. “Please…” You whimpered.

Akaashi looked upon you. That helpless look on your face ain't helping at all, it made him want you even more. He really wanted to take this slow but you’re making it hard for him. You’re making him too hard.

Unlatching your breast, he captured your lips next, removing his fingers from your pussy. Your hips slightly buckled up, missing his touch.

Getting lost in his tender kisses, your wetness dripped out from your slit. He parted from you and you let out an involuntary moan of complain. That made made him smile sweetly at you.

Shit! Did that make you bite your lower lip. Everything this man did was be pretty and sexy as hell. He stood up and…

Wait- Was that it? You felt a pang of disappointment, until you yelped!

He pulled you at the edge of the bed by the waist. It was abrupt but still very gentle. Your legs were splayed down, while only your upper-body was lying on the mattress. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He said. You gave him a questioning look and he leaned forward to kiss your forehead, “Your wound.”

He took hold of your gaze. You got lost in them that you didn’t notice him sheath himself. He watched your eyes widen as he slid his cock inside you. Shit. He’s hot. He felt so hot. He draped your right leg up his shoulder. Reflexively, you wrapped your left leg around his waist.

You really thought he was gonna fuck you fast. The way he’s already throbbing inside you made you think so, but you were wrong.

Akaashi was sliding out of you slowly, making you feel every inch of his long cock just to slam hard and deep right back in. Your eyes almost closed each time he’s hitting it deep. It was relentless.

Thrust. He couldn't believe that he'd be having sex with the girl of his dreams tonight. But hell! Who gives a damn! Thrust. He'd been sticking by the rules all this time. Maybe, he should try to live for once and fuck! Thrust! You felt so good, he could have you 'til tomorrow. Yes, just for tonight, the only one he'd be reining in would be you.

“Ohhh, ahh…” You couldn’t even control the pace. His silent and gentle command showed on his knitted brows. His cheeks were flushed, jaw clenched as a light droplet of sweat crawled down the side of his face. Damn! He’s so goddamn sexy.

You bit your moans, looking up at the mirror on the ceiling. You watched as he fucked you slowly but hardly. His cock sliding in and out of you while his ass clenched every time he was slamming balls deep into your pussy. The impact everytime he rammed in was making your breasts bounce lasciviously.

Despite his slow tempo, he’s going in hard and heavy that his balls slapping onto your ass was audible in the entire room, drowning your pathetic moans. It felt so good. So good that you wanted more.

"Akaa...Akaa...mhmn~"

You’re always so close to coming with him penetrating so deep, but him sliding out so slowly was delaying your orgasm. You felt it. Growing and building hot inside you. Your pussy was throbbing so bad and you whimpered to him helplessly.

He knew he could still go for far long but seeing you plead for your release, he couldn’t help but satisfy your need.

“Come here.” Akaashi ordered in that gentle but commanding manner. He let go of your leg on his shoulder and you followed his order without any complain, lifting your body and lacing your fingers together at the back of his head. “Hold on tight.” He whispered as his strong hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place.

“Ah!” You gasped as he fucked you surprisingly fast this time with the same depth and impact. “Ahhh! Oh my god! Shit! Ahhh…”

He grunted through clenched teeth as he pounded you hard. Fuck! Fuck! Y/N fuck!

Three pumps and you leaned your head back, mouth open, orgasming like you never had before. The feeling of not being able to release for a prolonged time then letting it all out made you feel like you’ve seen heaven. It felt so amazing that you’re still trembling around him.

Akaashi kissed your forehead; with his cock still hard inside you, he lifted you up. You weakly hugged him tight in return.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He brought you to the bathroom and dipped your connected bodies in the jacuzzi. He unlatched from you, retrieving his cock. Him sliding out got you almost close to coming again, still feeling the pleasure in your pussy.

You looked in between you and watched as he removed the used condom. He didn’t cum! And he’s still erect and rock hard. How’s that-

His lips found yours again and you instinctively wound your arms around him.

“Do you have anywhere else to go to tomorrow?” He asked with a voice so sweet. The way he’s so gentle yet disciplined was crazy attractive.

“No, I have nowhere else to go.” You answered limply.

“We have all night then.” He lifted you up and seated you at the edge of the tub, so his face was just right in front of your pussy. “Feet up.”

And you lifted them on the tiles, opening wide for him. His index and middle fingers rubbed your pussy, making you moan, “Aka-“

He stopped, looked back to you and demanded, “Keiji.” He inserted his two fingers in. Your head lulled back, foolishly repeating his name over your head. You’re sure you’d be screaming it for the entire night. The moment his tongue finally touched your pussy, another wave of orgasm hit you. Right there, you knew you’d be extending your stay.

© sir-kuroo 2024 - All rights reserved. No work shall be reproduced, reposted, modified, translated in any form or by any means.

[hiddenreamers]

I was in your music video - f1 drivers x singer!reader

SUMMARY: They say that if a poet loves you, they will write you into immortality. But if you date a musician, they might write you into the Billboard 100. Which is exactly what happens to your driver boyfriend.

Featuring: Lewis Hamilton, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Carlos Sainz Jr, Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, George Russell

Note: Yes, two songs are sung by male artists. Yes, I'm going to ignore that fact and you should, too.

Lewis Hamilton

He's been in the room maybe five times. The space always felt strangely sacred to him - this is where you write, compose and practice songs with your band; this is where the magic, so to speak, happens. Walls are absolutely covered with tour posters, polaroids and printed-out articles. There's a large mirror that seems to be a message board considering all the sticky notes and words written with a marker. The only somewhat de-cluttered space is surrounding the setup. It's an unspoken testament to being a musician in a band.

There's a certain tension inside the driver. You've never asked him to listen to a song before it's finished. Sure, he has listened through your albums before they were officially released but it was always just that - a recording, not a live version. So what's different this time? Why is it vital he hears this song early?

Walking through the room, Lewis has to carefully watch where he's going. He doesn't want to accidentally break something by stepping on a cable or kicking a box with unknown contents. Inside a garage, he knows what not to touch but a recording studio and instruments are pretty much an unknown world to him.

Lewis is standing around a tad awkwardly, hands in pockets, when the bassist pushes a big black box closer to the driver.

"Have a seat." The musician points to the chest.

Lewis frowns. "On the box?" he asks, unsure. "Is that okay?"

"It's the Lucky Chest, Hamilton," the bassist announces. The other band members snicker at the title. "You have to sit on it."

"What's lucky about it?" Lewis inquires. More than the seating choice, he's interested in the reason for laughter.

"The first time we played at a big festival," the guitarist begins, her story slightly interrupted by her tuning the guitar, "we were sitting on it and listening to Green Day's stage, wondering 'how the fuck are we supposed to play after them?'."

"We were doing like a punk-rock tribute thing," adds the drummer. He's adjusting his seat and judging by the constant up-and-down movement, he can't make up his mind. The process is finally over when he reaches to tap the high-hat and nods to himself, content.

"After we finished our set," you take over retelling the story, "Billy Joe Armstrong came up to us and said we did great."

"So now it's the Lucky Chest," concludes the bassist.

Perhaps it's another testament to being a musician in a band when multiple people together tell one story without cutting details or creating chaos. A true harmony, though a joke a little on the nose.

"Well, I'm honoured," Lewis says. An airy giggle escapes him as he's still thinking about how easily teamwork comes to you and your band.

"You should be." The guitarist points her finger at him in a joking but accusatory way. Then she looks over her shoulder. "Whenever you're ready, drummer boy."

Music fills the room and Lewis is instantly captivated by you. He noticed it the first time he saw you on stage, how something inside you changes the moment you hear the instruments playing. Intensity, fire - passion in its most primal form. But this time around, the look in your eyes is different. You're no longer looking at the audience but him specifically; instead of singing a song, you seem to be telling him something.

So he listens.

I'm a desert, you're an ocean It's your motion that I need Without you I am broken, left to thirst out in the heat

And how strange he suddenly feels: all of the sentiments he already knows but now that you've put them into words for the whole world to hear, he can't help but find some revelation in them. For a moment, there's only the two of you and your confession of desire. Every word resonates with him and Lewis feels like he could say all of those things about you, too.

The song is far from over but he has already decided - he will listen to it before every race.

Lando Norris

Nothing seemed different about that day.

Lando is streaming while you're still at the studio. In an hour or so, you will come back, he will end the stream and the two of you will sit down to eat something. You will talk about your day, he will say something silly and both of you will laugh. Just like you always did.

To his credit, Lando couldn't have known about the song because you never told him. Some part of you thought it would be a bit dramatic to announce that you've written a song about him but can't play it yet because it's not finished. It would spoil the fun, wouldn't it? Therefore, you decided to tell Lando only after he listened to the final product. Perhaps you also wanted to seem a lot more nonchalant about the whole thing, planning on giving him just an off-hand comment of "oh, by the way, this one's about you". Life, however, rarely turns out the way we plan and that's exactly what happened that night.

If it was just one or two people calling Lando "honeybee" on the stream, he probably wouldn't even notice. But even he will pay attention when the comments are going on hundreds if not thousands.

He can't help but grow flustered at the pet name born out of his visceral fear of insects.

"Who told you that?!" he yells in a comically angry tone, a poor attempt at hiding embarrassment.

The comments come flooding again, explaining the situation only in variations of your name and the title Espresso. And like a detective following a crime, Lando immediately searches the internet.

"I feel lied to," he speaks up. "She didn't tell me she has a new song coming out. Why am I the last one to know? When I literally live with her? This is so unfair, I'm obviously the biggest fan, I should know first!"

Lando plays the music video. From the first line of "he's thinking about me every night", his bashfulness only gets worse. What starts as an excited smile, grows into a flustered, giggly mess. Although his pride is on the line, he can't deny any of the claims you make in the song. Yes, he couldn't sleep one night thinking about you and texted you about that. Yes, he does call you often even though he hates making phone calls. And yes, Lando Norris is, in fact, wrapped around your finger. What a horse is everyone can see and similarly, everyone can see and define who Lando is when it comes to his girlfriend:

"Simp?" he reads one of the comments. "Look, maybe I am but at the end of the day I'm dating her and you're not so who's the real loser here?"

Lando can only laugh his heart out when the chat gets flooded with identical comments: You.

"Okay, I admit. I'm down bad for my girlfriend and I'm proud of that."

Tomorrow's headlines are bound to be interesting...

Oscar Piastri

Although Oscar has seen you in musicals countless times, this situation feels a lot weirder and more uncomfortable. When he comes to watch your show, he's in the audience and you're on the stage. Now you're sitting side by side on the couch in your shared apartment, about to see your first movie. You're both the audience and the creator, which leaves you unsure how to act.

Unfortunately, your discomfort only grows. Oscar seems to be enjoying the movie but joy is not granted to you on this day. With each minute, you know your big part is coming. Oh God, what is he going to think?

Then, you suddenly pause the film. Oscar looks at you confused.

"There's something you need to know before you watch this scene and listen to the song," you say before he can ask you about your strange actions.

Oscar's frown only deepens. "You're making it sound really serious."

"Because it is. The thing is... " you hang your voice, unsure how to put words together. How do you tell someone this without making things awkward? "This is more embarrassing than I thought it would be but the song you're about to hear, I wrote it thinking about you."

He's trying to smile but the shadow of embarrassment on his face doesn't go unnoticed. You can only hope it's good kind of nervous.

The movie is resumed. As your discomfort is barely tolerable, you're looking away from the TV, fidgeting ever-so-slightly. Once or twice, you glance at Oscar, trying to see his reaction. The problem is, he's sitting unbelievably still. True, Oscar Piastri tends to be on the calmer side but right now it feels off. As if lost deep in thought, he appears to be diligently contemplating the scene in the movie; picking apart the words that came to your mind while thinking about him.

When the song comes to an end, you pause the film once more. A tense silence falls between you and Oscar, both longing to say something and yet neither willing to.

"So?" you begin hesitantly. "What do you think?"

Oscar shifts awkwardly. "Erm... I don't really know what to say."

A nervous giggle escapes your lips. "It's really sappy, I know." You try to downplay the situation, fearing that his reaction is born out of something negative. Does he think you're clingy? Obsessive? Too dramatic to handle?

"It's not that," he quickly denies. "Well, okay, it is kind of sappy but it's good sappy?" Oscar's tone raises slightly, revealing that he's unsure whether it's the right choice of words.

"Good sappy?" you repeat.

It feels as though woe has weaved a nest inside your viscera. "Good sappy" sounds like a lovely, diplomatic euphemism used not to hurt someone's feelings.

"Yeah, it's just..." Oscar doesn't finish his sentence. He runs his hand through his hair, then rubs the back of his neck nervously. Finally, he looks at you but not in a way you're familiar with. There's something ethereal in his gaze, a glint of inexplicable emotion that would escape a less observant eye. "It's really beautiful," he says. "The fact that you feel this way about me?" You could swear there are tears in his eyes as he lets out a flustered giggle. "I can die happy now."

Carlos Sainz

As old tradition entails, the Thursdays before a race weekend are meant for golfing. And who is Carlos Sainz to not give in to the custom?

He's sitting in his car, impatiently ploughing through the traffic of the city centre. Why are people out and about at this time, anyway? Shouldn't they be at work? Wanting to get his mind off of the fact that he's going to be quite late to the game, Carlos turns on the radio. The man is mindlessly skipping through the stations until something catches his attention - the announcer introduces you as today's guest.

"Hello again, pretty girl," Carlos says to himself. A small smile enters his face.

"First of all, I'd like to thank you," the radio host begins. "Unfinished Business is just the album I've been waiting for this year. And not only me! Have you seen Billboard 100 lately?"

Your flustered giggle is just as adorable as always. "Yesterday evening, I think?"

The broadcaster sighs dramatically. "Then you have ancient news. I have the site pulled up now and check it every few minutes. Let me tell you, Unfinished Business has climbed twenty spots since morning."

"Oh, shoot."

"Indeed." The announcer laughs and Carlos does with him. It's such a familiar theme for the driver - you being more humble than you really should be, surprised by the success you entirely deserve.

"Now, to address the elephant in the room or rather on the music charts. Over and Over Again is like a love letter all of us have written but never sent. Tell me all about it!"

"I guess 'love letter' is a pretty good description," you explain. Curious, Carlos turns up the volume. "For some time, I was trying to put my thoughts together and tell someone how I felt but never could quite do it. I can write good songs but in real life, I'm pretty terrible at speaking my mind and talking about feelings. I just don't want people to misunderstand, you know?"

"What are you saying, hermosa?" Carlos asks aloud, although there's no one to answer him.

"At least you can write a song about it! We regular folk are stuck with memes and playlists."

"Thank God, I can!" You laugh and, as embarrassing as it may sound, Carlos feels a sudden warmth spreading through his chest. "I was struggling with saying what I wanted to say to him, so at some point, I just decided I could put those words and feelings into a song. He likes to listen to the radio when he's driving so he might even be listening right now."

Although nothing bad or negative is going on, Carlos feels himself growing tense, nervous. There's no doubt the "he" you keep mentioning is him but what exactly is it you've been trying to tell him? Is there something he's missing?

"Did you tell him you've written a song about him?" the radio host asks.

"It might have slipped my mind," you answer coyly.

The announcer only laughs. "Oh dear, what a way to find out! Without further ado, let's hear your love letter to the mysterious man. I really hope he's listening to us right now. Don't you dare change the station, you lucky guy."

To his own surprise, Carlos recognizes the melody - you've been humming it for weeks now. But as you begin singing, the words leave him in disbelief. Do you really... mean all of that?

Carlos is lost in the song, feeling as though the lyrics aren't just lyrics but your genuine confession; a true love letter, as you have said yourself. He's brought back to reality only when the car behind him honks and Carlos is a hair's breadth away from picking a fight with the other driver. Nothing requires more haste or attention than his girlfriend exclaiming to the whole world that he will always be the one for her and that she will love him over and over again.

Charles Leclerc

You don't hear Charles coming in - you're too lost in your own thing to remember there's an entire world outside of the song and the piano in front of you. On the other hand, Charles doesn't announce his arrival as he doesn't want to disturb you. To be perfectly honest, he's a little too curious to interrupt you. It happens very rarely that you practise outside of the studio and so Charles doesn't really get to hear your more casual singing, not an embellished performance for the audience.

As quietly as he can, he makes his way towards you. Charles casually leans against the doorframe, your back turned to him as you continue playing the piano. He barely bites back the smile that creeps onto his face whenever you effortlessly sing the high notes - they are difficult for professionals and yet you execute them so cleanly, they appear almost too easy.

The lyrics haunt him but in a truly delicious way. A particular note of sincerity in your voice makes the words stick to him like rain does to a reckless passerby. Sure, they will slip away, although not before drenching him; their vital piece will forever lie with him.

When the song comes to an end, Charles (without thinking twice) gives you a hefty applause. The surprise makes you almost fall off the chair.

"Shit, you scared me!" you yell at him. It takes a couple deep breaths and your boyfriend's apologies, to collect yourself. "How much did you hear?"

He shrugs, suddenly realizing that he wasn't supposed to hear even one note of the song. "Pretty much all of it."

Your expression must not be joyful as Charles resumes his apologies and poor attempts at excuses. Suddenly, you cut him off. "How'd you like it?"

For a moment, he only hums and mindlessly knocks at the doorframe, looking for the right words.

"I loved it," he confesses. A strange tension in his voice proves he's telling the truth. "It's a beautiful song."

"Good," you answer absentmindedly. Quietly, you nod to yourself before looking back at Charles, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "It would really suck if you hated a song about yourself, you know?"

His eyes grow wide and Charles seems to forget about blinking for a good minute. Judging by the changes in his expression, you can tell the exact thought process he's experiencing: realizing you've written a song about him, joy caused by that, remembering the lyrics and finally taking them personally.

The more observant fans might notice a new addition to his helmet: "Claire de Lune" written in elegant lettering.

George Russell

Common sense might tell you that a race car driver must have no fear. And that would be correct, although quite imprecise. They must have no fear on track, yes, but daily life is quite different from racing, isn't it? Or maybe George is discovering a range of emotions he has not known before.

Your relationship is fresh but that isn't to say it's not serious. The weight of the connection the two of you share is a major part of the reason why George has been dead set on taking things slow. The other part is him knowing what media circus will play out once the news breaks. It's hard to blame him for wanting to keep at least some aspect of his life private, especially one that means so much to him.

As understanding as you are, George's apprehensiveness is tiring. You perfectly understand his reasoning and to some degree share the sentiment but at the same time, you are just somebody in love - you itch to scream it to the whole world. Or, at the very least, share a picture of the two of you. Both of you haven't been middle-schoolers for quite some time now, so why act like ones?

George, like the supportive boyfriend he is, loves to see you in your element. He watches the music videos, yet, but he much prefers the dance practice videos, where you're visibly enjoying each second of the choreography. Therefore, when you upload a new dance video for your song, he's probably the first person to play it.

It's a catchy tune that makes even the most boring people want to dance a little. With his head moving to the rhythm, George doesn't focus much on the lyrics until something in the second verse catches his attention:

So used to hiding We built our kingdom around The right timing

The lines, understandably, hit a little too close to home to be a pure coincidence. Now suspicious, George replays the video - this time, he's actually listening to the words instead of focusing on your dancing. Any hesitation that he's the true recipient of the song is gone with the first line of "Say you want me". The desperation in your voice is simply too candid to be just an act for the sake of the performance.

With the song loudly playing on a loop, George is scrolling through his phone's gallery in search of the best pictures of the two of you. He can't help but mouth the lyrics along with your singing, only to randomly giggle as the thought once again settles - it's about him.

Your phone can't stop vibrating. The notifications are coming nonstop. What on Earth happened? Upon opening Instagram, the mystery is solved. The internet seemed to be set on fire when George posted a series of pictures of the two of you with a caption that earned a giddy chuckle from you: "Setting us in motion".

Max Verstappen

Max and you both understand how much support can change. Sometimes just knowing that this other person is out there, watching and cheering, can change everything. As such, the two of you try to attend each other's events as much as you can. Unfortunately, the universe isn't always kind and you end up on the opposite ends of the world. The only support you can offer then is watching the live-streamed event - just like Max is doing right now.

He's sitting in his driver's room in Singapore, while you're at an award show in the USA. Quite the distance. There's something unbearably humbling about having to watch your performance like most of the world, when Max is, without a doubt, not most of the world.

In the back of his mind, Max is still thinking about the conversation he had with you earlier. Although he never misses your performances, you made it a point to tell him to watch this one. In your own words, he's supposed to look out for something fun, like a detail that will make this show different from the others. So as though he is a hawk, or more of a vulture, Max is hyperanalizing everything that's happening on the screen. He's not about to miss your little surprise.

The song begins and as much as he wants to enjoy watching you in your element, Max is a missile on a mission. Nothing specific seems to catch his eye but that t-shirt you're wearing...

Max knows it all too well. Theoretically, it's his t-shirt but considering you wear it more often than he does, it's practically yours. Now it's styled to fit the concept and image of your bandmates but the colour, the logo, the number, are all unmistakeable. Considering how much you're touching the article of clothing, compared to other dancers, he's convinced he's found what he was meant to look for.

Before he can wonder why you've chosen to wear his t-shirt for your performance, it's you who gives him the answer through the lyrics:

I feel like for the first time I am not faking Fingers on my buttons and now you're playing Master of anticipation, don't you keep it all to yourself

Max Verstappen doesn't get flustered but if he did, he'd be beyond flustered right now. The realization hits him like a derailed train - the song that everyone has been obsessed with through the summer and that has pretty obvious sexual lyrics is actually about him.

And if he did get flustered, the emotion would be rather short-lived, giving way to pride. After all, the core meaning of the song is that he's a generous lover, right? Clearly, he's been taking good care of his girlfriend.

Now, each sung line of "Just the touch of your love" makes Max all the more frustrated that the two of you are so far apart. He's earned his title of "Master of anticipation" and he intends to keep it.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Ma'am III

Aitana Bonmatí x Royal!Reader

Summary: The aftermath of your elopement

"Well," You said, throwing your phone down onto the bedside table," My father knows."

Aitana, your wife, was relaxed against the pillows. Her engagement ring and matching wedding band sparked in the late afternoon sun.

"This is a terrible first impression, you know."

You scoffed. "Please. I'm his favourite child. That makes you his favourite daughter-in-law."

Aitana frowned. "I don't think that's how it works."

"It is," You said decisively. You crawled towards her, straddling her legs and leaning closer," Trust me. I know a lot about being a favourite. Father's favourite. William's favourite. Definitely Harry's favourite."

Aitana laughed. Her hands landed on your hips, drawing you closer until your lips were moments away from brushing hers. "Still, I haven't actually met your father. He might decide I'm not worth it."

"He can pissed off then," You said," I married you. I'm staying married to you. No matter what."

"You're lucky my parents love you," She replied," Otherwise they'll be very annoyed by this whole eloping thing."

"Is it really elopement if the rings cost more than a car?" You wondered and Aitana laughed again, fondly pulling on a strand of your hair.

"Yes," She said," You rich people live on a different planet."

You grinned, leaning forward to connect your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. "You know," You whispered against them," You're one of those rich people now too. What do you want to do first? Pay off Barcelona's debts?"

She rolled her eyes, pushing you away until you flopped onto your back next to her. "I think there's rules against those kind of things."

"You're right." You nodded," I'll do it. It looks better coming from a pair of princesses."

Aitana paled somewhat at your words.

Yes, she knew that you were a princess. The daughter of the King of England. Yet it hadn't crossed her mind at all on that beach last night with just the two of you, the priest and your security guard and two hotel staff members signing as your witnesses.

She hadn't considered that she would become a princess now too. It hadn't even been a thought in her mind.

Well, at least no one could accuse her of being a gold digger.

"I..." She didn't quite know what to say so she settled on the obvious. "I love you."

You grinned back at her, easy and self-assured. "I love you too."

You sat up, wiggling into the spot next to her.

"Things won't change, Aitana. Not by too much. Father won't let the media leak anything, though I doubt there were any paps on the beach with us. He's gifting us a house in Barcelona. It's not quite what we imagined but we can make it work, at least for now. We have time before this all comes out."

Aitana sighed. "I have to tell my teammates."

"Do it later." You shimmied even closer to her, layering kisses up her shoulder and neck. "We're on our honeymoon."

Aitana grinned at you with another eye roll that she was almost too fond of giving you. "Well...you do make a good point."

"You're right...I do."

"I mean, we've told out parents. Those are the most important people."

She could feel your breath against the shell of her ear.

"And we are on our honeymoon."

"And we are on our honeymoon," She confirmed, throwing her phone down and surging forwards to kiss you. "My teammates can wait."

It was hours later when you and Aitana emerged onto the terrace to eat dinner and relax.

You didn't bother to get dressed. The whole villa was within a gated community and your security team had always been excellent at the jobs.

You had simply thrown on a robe and relaxed back in your seat.

Aitana had done the same and you sat opposite each other as the sun begins to set over the horizon.

"You promise nothing will change too much?"

"Aitana," You said, leaning forward," Things will change, yeah, but not in the way that you expect. You can still play football. You'll still have paps following your every move but you also get more protection. More protection against paps and...others." You both knew who you were talking about. "People are still going to pick apart your every move but there's a team of lawyers waiting to sue those people to shreds. Not all change is bad change."

She grinned at you, leaning forward as well. "Then tell me the good things."

You smirked back at her. "Well, for one, you get a fancy title and new place to live. Enough money to last more than a lifetime. Access to fancy things like private jets. A new passport, if you want it." You moved back into your chair again, flinging your feet up onto the table. "And a tiara, if you want."

Aitana blinked comically. "A tiara?"

You winked. "A tiara worth more than your ring."

[salsakiyoomi]

you fell head over heals for someone you shouldn't have fallen head over heels for.

ryomen sukuna was an enigma and the very person you should've never fallen in love with.

you knew him from all over campus, he was a troublemaker but his looks made up for it, all the girls were in love and squealing about him, hoping for a chance to get in his bed and tangle up in his sheets.

of course, some did, the lucky ones you'd guess, for someone as arrogant and cocky as him, he sure was picky with who he gets with, it's not like he's ever had anything beyond one night stands, though still the dainty drummer still liked to have his good food.

oh yeah, he was a drummer in a band.

maybe that's what made him such a heartthrob at campus — actually, you weren't sure if it was the fact that he's a drummer or the fact that he's a gym freak, or the fact that he had tattoos or —

you could go on for days.

in your mind, you hated sukuna, he was nothing but a difficult and egocentric freak to you.

in your heart? that was a different story.

you should've never fallen in love with ryomen sukuna.

so now in the morning after of a fun night, tangled up in his sheets with your clothes scattered all over the floor, you knew you were the stupidest person to walk earth.

how did you get here? oh that's easy, you were drunk but not that drunk at a party with your friends, he was there with his band mates serving one song after the other until they got of stage and had a few drinks of their own.

then suddenly, sukuna's hands were all over you as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear about how pretty you are, the way you look and how perfect your body was for him.

you should've never fallen for any of this, why did you fall for all of this?

you had a giddy smile on your face and was giggling the whole way back as he led you to his room.

god, that was such a fuck up.

you groan, covering your eyes from the sunshine the leaks into the room from the cracks of the blinds, and when you get accustomed to it, you let your eyes wander over his room.

posters, curses, a drum set with a guitar in the corner, a vape and a pack of cigars on his nightstand, the dresser's door wide open with clothes spilled out.

yeah, everything about this screamed ryomen.

the door to his room opens and he walks in, hair dripping wet and with nothing but a towel around his waist.

he lets out a huff as he sees you're awake, "there is still warm water if you want to shower."

that's it? that's all he has to say to you? after everything he told and did to you last night? even after your naked bodies tangled and connected that's all?

he won't even meet your eyes.

"okay." is all you manage out in a meek voice, pulling the covers tighter over your body, hoping that you can just drown in them.

ryomen sukuna was an enigma, an enigma you should've never fallen in love with.

a/n : this was heavily inspired by another writer's drummer! sukuna drabble but i cannot for the life of me remember their user if somebody knows who they are pls tell me so i can give them their credits <33

[swanlikely]

Current Brainrot: Halloween w/ Husband Nanami!

Author's Note: He's practically living in head, and yes, he's paying rent. That's just the kind of man he is. I looove him.

not proof-read! (sorry if there are any errors - let me know and i'll fix it!) CW: AFAB! reader, usage of she/her, fingering, role-playing, nanami in a tight doctor's costume hehe.

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Nanami isn't just a good husband; he's the absolute best. He simply can't say no to his adorable little wife, especially when she bats her pretty eyelashes and begs oh so sweetly. And that's exactly how he ended up in this delightful mess.

As October rolled in, the air turned crisp and the leaves started their colorful dance. This year, though, felt different. A playful, almost naughty energy bubbled up inside you, eager to dive into the Halloween spirit.

"Is this what you wanted, dear?" Nanami called out, leaning against the entrance of your shared bedroom. He practically filled the entire doorframe, his unbuttoned lab coat teasingly revealing his toned chest, the stethoscope draped around his neck adding a touch of forbidden allure. He was the sexiest fake doctor you've ever seen.

You couldn't help but giggle in excitement, your eyes glossing over with anticipation as you knelt at the edge of the bed. It had taken a whole week of begging and teasing to convince Nanami to indulge your fantasies. This was just the beginning.

He chuckled at your eagerness, rolling up the sleeves of his lab coat to reveal forearms that looked like they were chiseled from marble. His wedding band caught your eye, a tantalizing reminder that your husband would dive headfirst into any want of yours. You bit your lip, knowing just how lucky you were to have a man who would embrace the filthiest, most embarrassing desires just to see you smile. God, you loved him.

"Oh Doctor Nanami, I think I'm sick," you purred, your voice oozing with need. The faux groan you let out sent a jolt straight to Nanami's cock. Hearing your shared last name roll off your tongue in such a sultry tone nearly made Nanami lose control and ravish you right then and there, abandoning any pretense of the charade. You could see the struggle in his eyes as he fought to maintain his composure. "Ah, we can't be having that now, can we?" Nanami finally asked, his voice thick with barely contained lust. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose in that way that always drove you wild before stepping towards you. The sight of him towering over you, with his broad shoulders and muscled chest straining against his too-tight undershirt, made your breathing falter. Every inch of him screamed power and control, and you could feel the heat between your legs pulse. You needed him, and the way his eyes darkened as he looked down at you told you he felt the same.

Nanami took the tip of your chin between his index finger and thumb, tilting your head side to side. "Hmm," he hummed, bringing the same thumb to swipe back and forth as he glared down at you through his glasses. Your breathing started to hitch as you looked up at your husband, coming in short, needy gasps.

"I don't see anything wrong with your physical appearance," his voice a low murmur as he pushed his thumb against your bottom lip, urging you to open up. "As pretty as ever," he added as you allowed his thumb to grind against your tongue.

He pulled his thumb out of your hot mouth with a pop, before his index and middle finger replaced the appendage. His eyes instructed you to suck, and you gladly obliged, swirling your tongue around your husband's thick, long fingers. "You're right, sweetheart, it does seem like you're running a fever. Your mouth is burning up," he cooed, his voice husky. You felt a shiver run down your spine as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your neck. His fingers explored your mouth with deliberate slowness, each movement sending waves of heat to your cunt. As you continued to suck on his fingers, his other hand tracing a path down your side, making you arch into his touch.

His free hand explored the curve of your waist before gripping your hip possessively. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "I think I need to take your temperature more thoroughly."

Nanami's fingers played with the hem of your already soaked panties, oh what an effect he had on you. You squirmed in anticipation, wanting to feel him, to go further. Nanami chuckled once again at how much of a needy girl he made you. "Impatient, aren't we?" he teased, his fingers lightly grazing against your clothed cunt. The fabric was drenched, clinging to your sensitive skin as he dragged his thumb over your clit, applying just enough pressure to make you shudder.

"Hypersensitive too? You must be really sick, Miss," he mumbled, raising an eyebrow as he withdrew his hand from your mouth, webs of saliva trailing between his fingers. With the hand already inspecting your cunt, he deftly pulled your soaked panties to the side and knelt down, his fawn-like eyes half-lidded as he took in the sight before him. You were delicious, dripping and messy just for him.

"K-Kento, there! Right there!" you choked out, your voice trembling with desperation as you reached for his wrist. The cool metal of his watch pressed into your palm, a stark contrast to the heat of the moment. Nanami's eyes swam with a mix of amusement as he swiftly swatted your hands away. "Ah, ah, ah," he tutted, his voice a low, seductive growl. With one hand, he pinned your wrists above your head, leaving you completely at his mercy.

"No touching, I need to make sure to take your temperature correctly," he reprimanded, pulling his fingers out. With the same hand, he delivered a sharp slap to your cunt. You winced and whimpered at the sudden combination of pleasure and pain that coursed through you. He was so mean. "And it's Doctor Nanami, remember?" he added, his tone smothered with authority and a hint of teasing.

"Sorry, Doctor... uuagh... Nanami," you panted between each slap to your cunt. Nanami's strong hand striking your swollen clit caused you to cry out, your eyes pleading and glossy, just the way he liked you. The rhythm of his hand was relentless, bullying almost.

"That's better," he breathed.

"Now, I'm going to run a few more tests on this pretty pussy, okay sweetheart?" he asks in that sweetly condescending tone. He paused all motion, patiently waiting for your reply, like he was torturing you to answer. He needed you to answer. This was part of the game. You nodded curtly, swallowing the saliva that had dribbled out of you after panting like a dog in heat. "Good girl," he groaned, making sure to accentuate and prolong the vowels.

The stethoscope that had been haphazardly draped around his neck was now in use, with the eartips firmly in place and the chest piece slowly approaching you. He looked so menacing, his muscled arms flexing under the rolled-up sleeves of his lab coat. It was absolutely intoxicating, he was intoxicating.

Nanami was about to get even meaner. As he pressed the icy metal of the chest piece against your clit; you recoiled. It was as if he could predict your every move, his other strong hand gripping the fleshy part of your hip and anchoring you firmly to the edge of the bed. "Sit still,"

Two fingers were again inserted into your slippery cunt, Nanami easing them in at a snail's pace. It was like he was searching for something. His eyes never left yours, half-lidded and tempting, drawing you through the moment without a single word.

"Why're you going so slow," you whined, bucking your hips to create more friction. Nanami's fingers continued to search the depths of your plush, slick walls, his middle and ring fingers sinking further into you with precision. The glint of his wedding band caught the light, still visible as he continued to push deeper.

"Please, I can't- oh fuck!" you yelped as he finally curled his fingers into the exact spot he was searching for. That cheeky bastard knew exactly what he was doing, and he relished every second of it. Curling against your g-spot with slow, intentional strokes made your legs tremble and threaten to close, but Nanami kept them apart, tutting at you as he glanced up from your cunt. The chest piece was still pressed against your clit, and he applied more pressure, causing a jolt to shoot through you. You weren't going to last very long, not with all the teasing he had done, and not with the myriad of sensations he was creating.

The contrast between the cold metal and his warm fingers was driving you insane. Each touch, each movement, was a calculated effort to push you closer to the edge. Every nerve in your body was on fire, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak.

As if his ministrations weren't enough, he began alternating between fingers, grinding up against your g-spot with this rhythm.

Middle. Ring. Middle. Ring. Middle.

You were unraveling in your husband's hands, gripping the bedsheets beneath you as you clenched around his fingers. "Ken, c-close," was all you could manage, teetering on the edge of bliss.Your body was a live wire, every nerve ending alight with sensation. The alternating rhythm, the pressure, the heat of his breath—all of it was too much and yet not enough. You could feel the tension coiling tighter within you, ready to snap. "Please," you whimpered, your voice barely audible. But Nanami was relentless, his fingers never faltering as he pushed you further and further towards the edge, savoring every moment of your unraveling.

"Don't worry," he started, never relenting from his movements. He was attacking your most sensitive areas, and he was so calm about it. "Just a little more, and you'll be all better, sweetheart," his breath fanning against your heat. His blonde hair was still well-kept, while you were a naughty, trembling mess below him.

You could barely think, let alone speak, as rushes of pleasure coursed through your body. Every touch, every whisper from him felt like a promise of the ecstasy to come. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and desire. "So beautiful when you're like this." You were completely at his mercy, and you loved every second of it.

"G-gonna cum, Ken!" you shouted, your voice rough and strained. He grinned, never ceasing his movements. He knew you were close, knew your body like the back of his hand. The way your hips jerked and your calves tensed were clear indicators. He was always such a perceptive husband.

"That's it, sweetheart, let go," he urged, adjusting the chest piece just enough to push you off the edge.

Your high hit you like a tidal wave, leaving your entire body rigid with pleasure. It was just so overwhelming, so incredibly good. Nanami was just too good to you.

As you slowly came back to yourself, it took a full five minutes to regain any sense of consciousness. Your vision was still blurry, and you could barely focus on anything around you. Every muscle felt like jelly, utterly spent from the intensity of the climax. Nanami's touch lingered on your skin, soft and loving.

"Are you alright, sweetness?" His voice was both full teasing and genuine concern. Always so kind. Oh, he didn't know just how much of an effect he had on you. You managed a slight smile, still trying to catch your breath. "Yeah, just... wow," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. He chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

"Good, because I have more tests to run," he said with a grin.

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[sanemisstalker]

Incel! Gyutaro, but it's a modern western college! au and you whip him into shape real fast. My ex won't talk to me, so I'm very much fantasizing about a man that will be obsessive over me ---> gyutaro NSFW

CW// Fem reader / AFAB genitalia / Breasted Reader / INCEL MENTALITIES : Sexism, Poly Hate / BDSM dynamics/ Implied ED (Gyutaro is a gym junkie who should definitely be eating more) / SH / Men's Mental Health / Inconsistent POV because I'm writing this with my hand down my pants (I am joking)

PART TWO <-

-You go to community College with him. He's some fucking dude in your necessary math course they wouldn't let you drop. He sits next to you in the booths.

-He's not awful looking. He's got some weird scars across his face, but like, they're kind of artsy. They add a flare the guy would be lacking otherwise.

-His vibe is a little... weird. He doesn't talk in class ever. You see him around campus and he doesn't seem... at all versed in social interaction. You once watched him get into a fight, which was a little sexy, but since it was with Tengen Uzui, your eyes were much more interested in the latter.

-Gyutaro is used to that though. Never being the one looked at. Typical of women like you. You're always frothing at the mouth over fucking Chad's like Tengen- He got it. Tengen was built, strong jawed, and just reeked of sex appeal wherever he walked. He always had the glaze of one of those five sluts he hung out with on his lips-

-Tengen was lucky. He's apparently been training since he was young- to look like a Greek God and all. Gyutaro spent the first years of his life fighting to survive in a hospital, and then every year after fighting to live in his home safely.

-and girls like you- sluts like you were always going to favour Tengen. Always assholes.

-After that fight, you began speaking to Gyutaro. You didn't come onto the topic immediately- you didn't want to pry- So You'd mention his shirt.

-'Is that Death Cab For Cutie?' His heart dropped when you spoke. He didn't even register you were talking about his shirt.

-'Are... Are you talking to me?' He'd croak. His voice was quite nice. Soft, but low.

-'Yeah- Your shirt? That's... That's death cab for cutie, right?'

-'Y-Yeah.'

-As classes rolled by, you came to understand that Gyutaro was a very... disturbed individual. Aside from being generally jumpy and odd, his moral opinions specifically toward women were less than desirable.

-You came to know of his opinions toward Tengen as well. The level of insecurity dripping from every word was palatable... even through the venom.

-He called women 'femoids' and constantly tried to express that Tengen had been given a bigger genetic stick in life. You could never decide if he was referring to Tengen's dick or not.

-You were different, though, He'd assure. You always got what he was saying. Even if you were just letting him mindlessly ramble about his awful, borderline questionable mentalities.

-with said mentalities, you began to realize that Gyutaro was a very easy man. An incredibly easy man. Who was incredibly attracted to every woman he met- but especially you.

-'Gyutaro, have you ever slept with anyone?' You'd ask one day, on the way to the cafeteria. On the few days he chose that over the gym, he'd walk with you. You worried about him, occasionally.

-The question would visibly startle him.

-'I-No. I'm - ha- I'm not... Why?' He'd cut over his own words, face burning.

-'Just curious. You seem all cool, like you get around.' You'd melt a little at that prideful look on his face. How absolutely smitten.

-Maybe the power went to your head, but you began to seek little moments of affirmation from Gyutaro. You'd bend over, a little too close to him- The chronic porn addict. Knowing what it did to him.

-You'd always compliment his shirts- All of his bands incredibly main stream despite his insistence that they weren't.

-You remembered the noise he made when you grabbed his arm in class, once. The teacher had decided to round up the class grade- just barely passing you- and you turned and clung onto his arm, and it was almost like he choked.

-'Hey, Gyutaro, can I come over and study?' You'd pose one day. His face would turn red, a hand flying to his scarred wrist. He itched the skin off- almost always raw.

-'To my- my dorm?'

-'Mhm.'

-'My room isn't-' He'd pause. 'Why? What do you want?' His emotions would flit, unsure of your reasoning. You'd roll your eyes.

-'To hang out? You know? On the one night a week we don't have homework?'

-'Aren't you going to go... party? You do every other weekend.' You found the tang of malice on his tongue adorable. Irritating, but adorable.

'One, I don't party every week. Two, I think you'd be fun to hang out with. What, am I not pretty enough to bring back to your roomate? Am I not allowed in the great and powerful lord Gyutaro's room? ' You'd taunt.

-'N-no. You're pr- no I-'

-'Cool! You live in the good dorms, right?'

-Gyutaro did live in the good dorms. He was also very lucky to be in a one man dorm. Apparently his old roomate, Akaza, had moved out to join a frat.

-Not that you could tell it was a good dorm. The thing was filthy. It smelled like hell, too. Like Gyutaro.

-'I'm sorry for the mess.' He'd grumble. 'I get really busy...'

-'You're fine. Are you a PC gamer?' You'd point to his massive set up.

-'Y-yeah.'

-'Thats cool- ooooh, a Scott Pilgrim poster. I love that movie.' God, you just knew everything, didn't you? All the things girls weren't supposed to like. Gyutaro had been fantasizing about this very moment since you bothered to open your mouth at him. He guessed his work outs had been paying off.

-'Yeah its a good comic, too.'

-The conversation would sway too and frough. Not every really finding a groove. A girl in his room, and he could barely speak to her- you decided to take drastic measures.

-'Hey, Gyutaro, do you want to like do something? Like... a game.' You'd ask, turning to face him.

-'I- um- I have some two players-'

-'Not a game like that.' You'd laugh. He'd quirk an eyebrow. 'I'm like... horny. Like a party game'

-If you'd suddenly fired a gun next to his ear, the effect those words had on Gyutaro would've been the same. He gaped at your bluntness.

-'You're horny?'

-'Yeah... I want to do something... Dirty, I don't know.' You jerked the air off.

-'A-are you gonna leave?' He'd ask, sounding pathetic. 'Do you need me to leave?' What a dumb question, he realized, the second it left his mouth. This was his home, why would he let you jerk off-

-'Do you want to watch? It'd be rude to make you leave.' You completely understood the absurdity of the words coming from your mouth. Every word made Gyutaro's face twist into something akin to... excited disgust. It was fascinating.

-'W-watch?' He didn't understand why he stuttered so much around you.

-'Yeah... Watch? We don't need to like- play like... strip poker or anything. I just want to do something raunchy.'

-'We-we're not dating. You should do that with your boyfriend.'

-'Gyutaro, you know I don't have a boyfriend.' You'd remind. 'Are you scared?'

-'I'm not scared- I-'

-'We're adults. We can do what we want.' His traditionalist mindset was wanning by the word. He wanted you something awful, and here you were, offering to... touch yourself infront of him-

-He'd been leaning on his bed, and you began to creep forward.

-'Do you have any toys?'

-'You mean like vibes?' If his voice wasn't cracking, it was dry. Painfully so. 'I-'

-'Any you haven't put in you?'

-'I'm not into that.' He'd defend. A lie. A painful lie at that. 'I-'

-'Into what?' You'd bring your hand toward the edge of his shirt. He'd begin shaking under your touch. 'No bandaids over your nipples?'

-You'd been so kind and casual to him thus far. Always appreciating his bands and asking about his games. You're eyes had never even fixated on his birthmarks- He never expected you to actually like him-

-'I-I'm not some... some freak.'

-'You think I'm a freak for being into that?' His heart would ache at the sigh in your voice, guilt growing in his stomach as your hand left. 'Sorry, I guess I'll just go back to my dorm.'

-As you turned to leave, Gyutaro would scramble off the bed, eyes blown wide. His foot would knock into an empty can on the floor, and He'd probably tip over some of the comics on his nightstand.

-'Wait-wait!' He'd step over a pile of clothes, and begin rummaging around in the drawer behind his bed.

-His thin hand would come back with a small pink vibe- attached to a thin white wire. You could barely fight back the evil grin on your face as he resurfaced, face just as pink as the vibrator.

-You feigned needing help onto his bed, just so he'd pick you up and set you there. His tenseness was comedic. As you fully situated yourself, Gyutaro just stood, hands in his pockets-

-'Well, come on?' You ushered, nodding to the space between your legs. Gyutaro looked to the spot and then back to you.

-This couldn't be real. You couldn't be fucking real. Even as you spread your legs infront of him, revealing your dripping fucking pussy-- it could not be fucking real. It was too pornographic. You couldn't be serious- Any second you'd snap your legs shut, realize how fucking disgusting he was- how worthless and weird- and you'd spit on him, get up, and leave-

-But you didn't. You pressed the vibe to your clit and Gyutaro watched in awe as your pussy clenched around nothing. Begging, pleading for a cock to fill you, just like all the forums said it would.

-You swore you heard him whimper- gasp- Feeling all powerful under his watchful eye. You were very pleased to find he was bulging through his sweats, a small wet patch already forming.

-He wouldn't be able to get over how fucking wet you were. How good your pussy responded to the vibrations, how good you looked when you craved dick-

-'You should... Your hard on looks like it hurts.'

-Fuck, everything hurt. Your voice made his balls ache, begging for release. He didn't want to cum so early- Didn't want to be a minute man infront of you.

-You wanted him to cum early so bad. His dick had already soaked through his sweats with pre- you knew you could get him worse.

-'Gyutaro, can you- Can you finger me?'

-So fucking cruel. So fucking evil-

-You knew he'd be no good. Too rough and fast, but to your surprise, he shook his head. Very admant.

-'Why not?'

-'I- my hands are gross.' He'd whisper. The poor thing sounded close to tears. He wanted to finger you so bad, but he was all to aware of the cracks and scabs along his knuckles. 'I don't want to get you dirty.'

-'Do you have gloves?' You were surprised by the desperation in your own voice. Fuck.

-'L-like latex?'

-'Mhm'

-Gyutaro had cleared the bed and rush to his bathroom, yanking the gloves from the medicine cabinet. You heard the faucet start, and then a crash and a bang-

-And then Gyutaro was back infront of you, one hand covered with a glove. And he smelled like cologne. You held back a laugh.

-He shivered at the way your pussy sucked his finger in. And then a second not even a minute later.

-'It hurts... You should get on top of me. It'll help.' You reasoned.

-Gyutaro watched you with wide eyes as he bent down next to you, the curve of his wrist allowing him to begin an all too gentle thrust into your pussy.

-His face was right by yours, drinking in the sight of you growing heavy eyed and huffy with awe.

-He picked up his speed. Fuck- you were a real doll, alright. So fucking perfect. All for him. All his- you were his, he decided, deluded by the intimacy of the situation.

-You weren't going to be allowed to go anywhere with any other man- ever again. Nobody else could see this. Nobody was going to see you cum other than him, make you cum, other than him.

-'You keep going just past it-' You'd groan with frustration.

-'Past- What?'

-'I need you to- my g-spot you keep hitting everything but it-'

-His face would turn bright red at the critique.

-'Your g-spot?'

-'Of course you wouldn't know what that is.' You'd snark, reaching down to grab his wrist. His jaw would tighten as you began to guide his hand in and out of your pussy, back arching as he grazed a textured part of your walls.

-He felt like a dildo, an object for you to chase your high-

-Gyutaro came before you, his free hand rushing to try and prevent it, but you'd feel him shiver and hear a soft-

-'Fuck- fuck!'

-And you' look to see a wet patch on the crotch of his sweats. It looked like he pissed himself, the stain starting at least midway down his thigh-

-You imagined such a gigantic load being forced past your cervix. His cock had to be huge- fucking huge- with enough cum to spill for days after.

-'I'm-I'm cumming-' You'd squeak as the vibrator paired with Gyutaro's shame sent you spiraling. His head would snap up to watch-

-You'd leave with nothing but a thanks, and a small comment on how he needed to clean his room - The look of shock on his face borderline second orgasm worthy- He'd already gotten hard again. He wanted to go- wanted you.

-But he'd get a text from you later that night. You'd be at a party- like he knew you were supposed to be.

-'Lol' would accompany a photo of you in a slutty little dress next to Tengen Uzui and those three bimbos always by his side. It would dock his confidence, send him spiraling- panicking-

-But it'd be there...a thin little wire peaking out from between your thighs.

-You'd send him your address and hope he'd have the balls to do something about it.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[11:04 pm]

(cw: f!reader, idol!reader)

This was likely the best concert you'd ever been to. It was lively, fun, and the best time you'd had in a while. And you're an idol! You sang along to all the songs and danced with little to no worries in the world.

The next song started, a familiar beat started, your favorite song. You turned to Jaehyun excitedly squealing as the instruments started up. He smiled at you brightly, nodding his head along with the music.

“Ooh, don’t we look good together?” Bruno Mars started singing.

You raised your arms, swaying side to side, singing along without a care in the world. This night had been amazing. Ever since becoming an idol, there had been very few times where you felt free out in public. You always felt like you had to lol over your shoulder, be proper, and on your best behavior in case something got you in trouble.

There were always cameras pointed at you, but not tonight. Bruno Mars had a running habit for his shows which worked out great for you as an idol, your boyfriend who was an idol, and other celebrities who very rarely got to be out in public without the fear of a camera on them. You and Jaehyun were lucky that both your companies supported your relationship, but that didn’t mean all fans did. Even though your relationship was confirmed, you and Jaehyun very rarely went out publicly just for your own comfort. The lack of cameras and phones at this camera made it all the more exciting on top of the fact that you both loved Bruno Mars.

The cameras around the venue jumped around to different people in the audience as the song went on. “Fellas grab your ladies if your lady fine,” Bruno sang.

The band paused, “I said fellas grab your ladies if your lady fine.” The cameras jumped to a couple, as the woman was pulled in and given a kiss. You hadn't realized the cameras were going to jump around the audience and show the fellas grabbing their ladies.

“Let’s try this again, fellas grab your ladies if your lady fine,” Bruno Mars sang again. Before you could even process the image on the screen you felt Jaehyun wrapping his arms around your waist before dipping you back into a kiss. You laughed loudly, cupping his cheeks before placing a chaste kiss on his lips.

You stood upright, just catching the screen showing the two of you before switching to another couple as the line repeated once more as the song kept going.

You and Jaehyun danced the night away with each other, singing at the top of your lungs without a worry in the world. It hadn't even crossed your mind that surely people, fans of either you or Jaehyun, might break the rule of no phones and catch sight of you.

When you were both in the van ready to head home, the serotonin boost dropping to a tired calmness. Jaehyun let out a laugh, leaning over to show you his screen. Someone had captured the entire video of you and Jaehyun from one of the big screens. You could see the dazzling smile on Jaehyun's face and the look of surprise on your face as he dipped you back. You had been so in the moment that you hadn't even heard the sharp rise in cheers and volume when you and Jaehyun appeared on the screen.

It was a cute video and you were glad someone had captured it. Scrolling through the comments, it looked like people agreed. The video had been posted almost an hour ago and already had over 100 thousand reposts. You were even trending! Some people in the comments even admitted to not knowing who either of you were but wanted to become fans.

You handed the phone back with a smile, "someone said that if I ever get tired of you, they'll take care of me. They offered to take care of all my plants while I'm away and make me dinner every night."

Jaehyun playfully rolled his eyes, "most of the comments were about you. I forget how much the internet adores my girlfriend."

[the-kr8tor]

Hi! I've just got back to ATSV and your Hobie fics made me felt like a school girl giggling to myself 😭🤍

I don't know if you still open for request but you may ignore if you feel uncomfortable!

I was thinking about long distance relationship with Hobie, maybe they met in some dating app ( I know this felt weird but like imagine him being bored and randomly download it for fun but then met the love of his life lol )

And one day Reader decided to surprise him on one of his concert 👀

Aww you're so sweet! Thank you so much! I hope you like this, sorry for the wait ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, cw blood, band au, FLUFF

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

When your long distance partner said that he's in a band, you never expected that he's in one of those bands that plays in sold out venues. Granted that the concert also has other bands playing on the same day in different schedules, nonetheless his band is the one that's headlining the entire charity event. The venue is open air, trees lined around the park with dozens of booths selling merch, and overpriced burritos. At least the free water makes up for the expensive food and the long lines to the port-a-potty.

People are all dressed up for the event walk past you, they're in a complete ensemble, spikes, knee high boots, fishnets and hair that is taller than the luggage you're lugging around. It's safe to say that you stick out like a sore thumb in your comfortable airport clothes. If not then all the stares you're getting is because you have a huge bug on your face or something on your teeth. Maybe you should've gone with your original plan of waiting outside his houseboat like a creep.

You exhale, gathering your courage just like back when you were buying the plane ticket to Camdem. Clutching your bag tightly, you head off to the baggage lockers on the side to drop off your weekend bag before showing your concert ticket to the tired employee.

With a few flight delays on your belt, you were afraid that you'd miss his set. But lo and behold, the second you stepped foot inside, the loud booming speakers are announcing his band. You make your mad dash towards the front of the stage, excitement and trepidation fueling you while you practically squeeze yourself in between the growing crowd. After a few apologies to some people you've accidentally elbowed, you finally make it at the front with only a few bruises here and there. You don't care about the aches the second you see him appear from backstage.

Hobie, your long distance partner of two years and a half is finally in front of you. Well a few feet away from you as there's a bannister and a huge security guy guarding the fences. And yet, you haven't been this close to holding him. Signing up for a dating site wasn't your greatest moment but you're glad you did, if you hadn't, you might've not met the love of your life. You're also glad that his friends dared him into signing up, you feel incredibly lucky that the stars aligned for the two of you to meet.

His band waves to the crowd, faces you've come accustomed to whenever he brings you (his phone while you video call him) to band practices and hangouts throughout the years. Dare you say that they've become your friends too, if not for them encouraging you to finally buy that ticket to surprise Hobie, you wouldn't be standing here with your hands gripping tightly on the railings.

He looks amazing under the bright lights, the spotlight highlights all his best features. Clad in leather, spikes and metal, seeing him behind your phone screen doesn't prepare you for the real thing.

With stars in your eyes, you grin widely. Yet you don't call for him so you don't distract him. Instead, you listen to the first song as Hobie plays a familiar guitar riff. You unabashedly ogle him while you listen to the song you've personally seen the development of.

Sweaty, eyes strained to see him through the spotlight while your ears ring— you probably don't look your best while the crowd pushes the fences wildly. Maybe you should've thought this through, or at least wore something nicer.

Hobie still hasn't seen you amidst the crowd. Continuing to jump and somersault effortlessly around the stage while fans scream and screech his name out. You once again stick out like a sore thumb while you stay in place when everyone else is jumping up and down to the beat. Seeing the lone anomaly, Hobie shields his eyes from the lights to get a good look at the supposed disgruntled fan. He never expected to see your face, his heart feels like it stopped for a second, he tumbles towards a wire that trips him and in turn launches him towards a small amp that also trips him and makes him land flat on his face. If not for his quick reflexes, he might've broken his nose on stage.

The crowd makes an empathetic sound as silence spreads throughout the venue. Some reach out to him as if they would've caught him mid air, and you're one of those people. With a wince, you watch him sit up, trying his best to act cool while he's tangled around numerous wires. He looks silly and lovestruck at the same time when his eyes meet your own. Your name falls off his lips, eyes sparkling under the red spotlights.

You give him a small wave, smiling bashfully at the punk on stage. A stage hand helps him untangle himself while Ned helps back up on his feet. All the while, his eyes never left your form.

“Wanna take five, loverboy?” Ned whispers, patting his best mate on the back. “Fuckin' hell you're bleeding.” The crowd cheers as blood ebbs out.

Even with crimson flowing out of his nostril, pain ebbing through his face, he still manages to grin back at you. “Yeah, make that ten, Ned.” he clasps his hand on Ned's shoulder without leaving his eyes on you. You wink at him. “Better yet, make that twenty.”

Ned rolls his eyes, calling for the medics before gesturing towards you to come around backstage.

—

An organizer gives you a backstage pass, letting you roam around the performers area freely. You play with the lace as your nerves get the best of you. You kinda feel bad for being the cause of the delay, but when your darting eyes see his familiar silhouette, it all melts away.

“Can I get an autograph?” You say, standing under the medical tent while a paramedic tends to his bleeding nose. His head whips towards you so fast, you were afraid that he'd break his neck. “Hi, Hobie.”

A giddy grin spreads on his face, standing up from the plastic chair with tissue paper stuck up his nose. “Hello, love.”

You giggle, crossing the small distance, hands reaching to his sides, waiting for him to hold you. Hobie wraps his fingers gently around your wrists, pulling you close. Toe to toe, he guides your hands on his waist.

“You're taller than I expected.” You utter with fondness, fingers splayed over his shirt, eyes etching his face into the folds of your mind.

“You have legs, and feet attached to your legs.” He says nervously, biting his lip from grinning too widely. “You're as fit as I thought you would be.” Chortling, you pat his chest. Realizing that the tissue papers are still stuck up his nose, he yanks them away quickly, hiding it inside his back pocket as if nothing happened. “You surprised me.”

“That was very dignified of you, Hobs.”

Chuckling, he does what he always wanted to do; hide his face in the crook of your neck. “Was that a deal breaker?”

You scoff playfully, leaning into his touch as he embraces you fully, shyness melting off the both of you only to be replaced with affection. You do the same, face tucked on his neck. He smells like the perfume you sent him when he asked what perfume you always use. And in turn, you smell like his cologne he gifted you a week later.

“Nope, it actually made me more attracted to you.” You feel his knuckles trace circles around your back, nose pressed on your skin. “Sorry that I surprised you, and made you fall on your face in front of thousands of people.”

Hobie gives you a chaste kiss on your jaw before leaning away to cup your face. You feel like you're on cloud nine as he looks at you like you're everything to him.

“Nah, not even close to a thousand, lovie.” His thumb brushes along your cheeks, savoring your warmth like he always wanted to do. You smile, palms on his jacket lapels. “Y’know what's funny?”

“You landing flat on your face in front of hundreds of adoring fans?”

He pokes your side with a chuckle. “I'll never hear the end of that, huh?” You shake your head with a soft smile as he leans closer, you meet him halfway by pulling him by his jacket. “I bought a ticket to your place.” Your eyes widen, tearing up from his words. “I was supposed to fly after the concert and wait outside your flat like a bloody stalker.” Smiling, he closes the distance. “You beat me to it, love.”

“I won.” You kiss him just like how you imagined.

[binniesbooks]

halloo, I come with a request 🧎‍♀️‍➡️🧎‍♀️‍➡️ ofc feel free to ignore it if you don't feel like writing about it or js don't like the request, that's totally OK!!

but I have been thinking about idol!soobin x fan!reader (feeding my delusions HAHAH) maybe the reader started out as a fan but at a meet and greet or something, she caught soobin's eye and then yada yada they get together !!

then, one day, y/n is on her phone and comes across an edit of soobin. ofc edits of him weren't anything new to her considering she was a fan before she got w soobin but this one caught her eye bcs it wasn't about soobin specifically but about his hands 👀👀 she saw it in a whole different light but ofc was too shy to tell soobin herself so she keeps it a secret

but then another day, in their shared apartment, reader is watching yet another edit of soobin's hands but what she doesn't know is that soobin came back earlier than usual and was right behind her, seeing the edit. that's when it clicked, why y/n was more nervous than usual these past few days, staring at his hands. and then well smut😌😌😌 (kinda mean dom soobin plsss)

feel free to alter it as u like or not do it at all HAHAHA just needed to get my thoughts out!! love yaa

-🤍

• CHOKING HAZARD

SB 000 .F23 2024

wc 4.1k

pairings meandomidolbf!Soobin x subfem!reader

warnings size kink, choking, fingering, slight oral (fem receiving) unsafe sex, pet names, cum eating, creampie, slight degradation (plus if I missed anything)

faye's note TOTALLY DOWN BAD FOR SOOBIN'S HANDS THAT I WOULD GLADLY SIGN A PETITION TO START A FANDOM FOR HIS PRETTY HANDS??? GAAHHH! Anyway, although I felt like it took me decades to finish this fic, I enjoyed writing this one. Hmhmhm. 🙂‍↕️

"Girl, I swear! He was staring at you the whole time!" Your friend exclaimed on your way home after attending a fan meet event with your favorite K-pop boy band, TXT.

"Stop with your delusions, Rain," you chuckled. "Why would my bias stare at me? That's impossible," you said, scoffing at the idea your friend had been conducting on your way home.

"Oh my god, you're such a dumb Soobrangdan, I swear! You're losing your chance!" Your friend was about to burst out, lucky for you, there are only a few locals riding the bus, and they're not paying attention to your friend making a fuss.

You glanced at the photo card dangling on your bag, your bias really looks handsome. You like the other four guys, but you’re committed to Soobin. The tall guy gave the cute yet sexy and hot aura. His bunny smile and pretty face made you fall for him over and over again. --- You we’re a total simp for Soobin.

"Here! Look! MOAs are uploading pictures and videos here and there. Take a look and tell me if I'm wrong!" Rain frowns. You took her phone and scrolled through the platform.

'She's so lucky! Soobin has been staring at her the whole time!'

'She's a Soobrangdan, right? How lucky!'

'Oh, to be stared at by your bias!'

'Prayer reveal, sis!'

It was true. Soobin was looking at you the whole damn time. He looks at the crowd for a second, quickly returning his gaze at you. Oh my god! What in the world have you done to be looked at like this by your bias?!

"Oh fuck, I hope Taehyun would look at me like how Soobin stared at you last time!" It's been a couple of months since the last fan meeting you attended. And this time, you are attending another fan signing event again.

You weren't expecting anything at all, or so you thought. Maybe, deep inside, you're expecting Soobin to recognize you from the crowd. For him to look at you the same way he did last time.

"You're the one who gave me the crocheted KARA lightstick last time, how could I forget you?" Soobin's bunny smile flashed right in front of your face. His big hand is almost covering your tiny ones.

You were giggling the whole time. His hand envelopes yours. He even held your wrist in an almost teasing manner as he compared your size difference. Soobin couldn't stop smiling either. He adores how your hand fits perfectly on his. How the size of your ring finger is the same size as his pinky finger.

And just before you move on to the next member, he sneakily wrote something on the album he was signing.

"I really recognize you, y/n. I hope we can see each other more often," he whispered. "And... don't let anybody touch this album aside from you, yeah?" He smirks as he slides the signed album towards you.

You went home in a dazed state. Your friend couldn't even talk to you properly, frustrated she just shut up. You weren't saying anything aside from the constant "huh?" and "mhm!", while you were clutching the album against your chest tightly.

After doing your nightly routine, you jumped on your bed. The white and orange-colored album caught your eye as you quickly got up and grabbed it.

Sniffing the album, you slowly turned every page. Admiring every beautiful face on each page. Until you saw his picture near the middle part—it was Soobin's picture.

'Hi pretty, call me if you're free.' was written on the edge of the page along with a phone number. Your jaw dropped to the floor, confused and baffled.

You were expecting something more like a sweet message or such, not a 'call me' note.

Yet you found yourself dialing the number written on the page of the album.

"H-hello?" You muttered when you heard a deep breath on the other end. "I-is this Soobin? Choi Soobin?" You were practically biting your nails while muttering the words carefully. What if it's just a bluff?

"Y/n?" the voice answered. Alas! It was Soobin!

"H-hi! I... I'm... I just--"

"Calm down, sweetie," Soobin chuckled.

You took a deep breath and whispered a soft hi. Soobin hums as an answer. The call was short, because Soobin was busy with his schedule. Well, that one-time call already meant a lot to you, who are you to complain?

A couple of months later, TXT organized another fan signing event for their comeback stage. This time, it was a lot bigger than the other. This time, thousands of people are expected to participate. And once again, you and your friends were lucky to acquire the VIP ticket.

It was a crisp autumn evening, and the anticipation in the air was electric. Fans from all corners of the city had gathered for the long-awaited fan meeting of TXT, their favorite boy band. Among the thousands in attendance, you found yourself at the front of the stage, heart racing as the boys took their places.

As the event kicked off, Soobin scanned the crowd, his gaze dancing over faces filled with excitement until it landed on you. You felt your cheeks flush, unsure if it was the light or the warmth of his gaze that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as his eyes locked onto yours, a playful smirk breaking across his face. You quickly looked down, too shy to hold his gaze any longer, but not before you noticed the playful glint in his eyes.

“Who’s ready to have some fun?” Soobin called out, his voice laced with enthusiasm. The crowd erupted in cheers, but all you could think about was that moment of connection. As the various activities unfolded—games, Q&As, and performances—you couldn’t shake the feeling that Soobin’s eyes kept drifting back toward you.

During a particularly lively segment, he started to walk toward the edge of the stage, playfully teasing the fans. You held your breath, half-expecting him to call someone else into the spotlight. Then, without warning, he pointed directly at you. “You! Come here!”

Your heart stopped. “Me?” You stammered, disbelief evident on your face as you made your way to the front. The crowd parted with laughter and cheers, urging you on. With each step, the adrenaline surged, and by the time you stood before him, your heart was pounding furiously.

“Hi! What’s your name?” Though his eyes were actually screaming, he knew your name, leaning closer, his warm smile making it hard to concentrate.

“Uhm, it's y/n," you managed, your voice barely audible above the loud cheers around you.

“Well, aren’t you brave?” He said with a playful wink. “I have a feeling you’re going to be my favorite fan tonight.

”You couldn’t believe it—he was flirting with you right there in front of everyone! The other members laughed and encouraged him, but he didn’t take his eyes off you. As the event progressed, he kept making lighthearted jokes, steering the attention back to you each time.

When the event ended, he stepped down from the stage and walked toward you. “You know,” he said, his voice low enough for only you to hear, “I think we should hang out sometime. I’d like to get to know you better."

Your breath caught in your throat as the other members around you gasped. Was he really asking you out? “Are you serious?” You asked, trying to mask the disbelief with a teasing smile.

"Absolutely,” he smiled back, mischief dancing in his eyes. “What do you say? Just us, away from the cameras and crowds?”

After exchanging contact information with a heart full of hope, your night wrapped up, but that was only the beginning. Over the next few weeks, Soobin kept his promise. Text messages turned into phone calls, and soon enough, the two of you were meeting in secret cafés, parks, and even sharing ice cream on chilly evenings. Each moment together deepened the bond you were forming.

Dating someone like Soobin wasn’t without its challenges; the scrutiny of being in the public eye weighed heavily on both of you. But amidst the noise, you found solace in the quiet moments—the way he would listen intently as you spoke, the laughter you shared over inside jokes, and the warmth of his hand finding yours.

One night, while walking beneath a canopy of stars, Soobin gently squeezed your hand and said, “I never expected to find someone so genuine in this crazy world. I’m really glad you caught my eye that day.”

With your heart racing, you looked up at him, his face lit with anticipation. “I'd never imagined myself dating you, Soob, I even thought you're joking. But... You’ve changed my life in ways I never could have imagined. You made me love life even more,” you sighed.

In that moment, the world faded away, leaving just the two of you standing under the sparkling sky, two hearts dancing to a rhythm that felt undeniably right.

"Were you watching edits of me again?" You were startled from where you were sitting when Soobin spoke.

"Oh my god, Bin! At least announce that you're home, else I’ll end up dying young," you joked, your hand still on your chest.

Soobin chuckled, planting a kiss on your forehead, "I did, sweetie. Maybe you're just too focused on what you were watching that you didn't even hear me. What if it's not me? What if it's a killer or a thief?" Soobin pouts as he melts into your arms.

"What the hell are you saying? Do they have the house key?" Your eyebrows raised into a frown and Soobin pouted.

It's been only 3 months since you started officially dating him, yet you knew almost everything about him. You're too familiar with when he's stressed out, or when he's angry, or when he just wants to be clingy.

One typical Saturday afternoon, while the sun was casting a warm golden hue across the room, you sat on your bed, scrolling through social media.

You found yourself watching a short video clip that featured your boyfriend in a relaxed interview setting. He was gesturing with his hands, those long, slender fingers of his gliding through the air as he spoke animatedly about his passion for music. You couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your chest as you admired his natural charisma. You had always found him attractive, but something about his fingers today set your imagination racing.

The way he drummed his fingers on the table, or how he would push his hair back while speaking, was captivating. You leaned in closer, your face flush with warmth, almost forgetting the world around you. The clip had sparked a whirlwind of fantasies in your mind, and you lost yourself in thoughts of how his fingers might feel on your skin, exploring and teasing.

Just as you were about to replay the video for the third time, you heard a soft click at your door. Your heart raced as you quickly looked away from your phone, feeling like a deer caught in headlights.

To your surprise, it was Soobin himself, looking casual yet undeniably cute in his oversized hoodie. “Hey, i'm home,” he said, a playful smile spreading across his face. You froze, phone still in hand, the video still playing in the background as your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red.

“What were you watching?” he asked. You felt your throat go dry, words barely finding their way out. “Um, just a… a video,” you stammered, avoiding his gaze.

He stepped closer, his curiosity piqued. “Oh really? Is it something interesting?”

For a second, you thought of showing it to him, telling him about it, yet you shut it off and brushed it all aside.

"W-what do you want for dinner?" You muttered, shoving your phone in your pocket.

"Don't cook tonight, I booked a restaurant." Soobin smiled, shrugging off the matter that was the video on your phone.

You took a quick shower, picked some nice casual clothes, and took his hand in yours, walking hand in hand once again.

Soobin makes a joke about you might be cheating on him and that you're hiding something from him. But of course, you showed proof you didn't do anything of the sort.

Dinner went well. Aside from some pair of eyes probably boring holes in your skull, Soobin made you comfortable nonetheless. You had a good time with him again, after a while of being busy with his hectic schedule.

The next day, Soobin went out earlier than usual. They were called in for a sudden meeting for their upcoming shoot.

You were enjoying your time alone. Baking some goods for him to taste when he gets home. Cleaning and rearranging the house stuff for a cleaner and cozy space. You even changed the curtains, the sheets, the pillowcases, and the blankets.

After a whole day of cleaning, you sat down on your usual spot on the sofa, turning on your phone to consume some entertainment. You found yourself searching for the clip you had watched yesterday.

And once again, it made your head spin. His long and slender fingers look so pretty. His huge hand made you think about something unholy. Your fingers slowly digging into the soft pillow, your thighs rubbing against each other.

His eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise, a soft laugh escaping his lips. “My fingers? What about them?”

You jolt up from where you were sitting, quickly shutting off your phone and shoving it face down on the couch.

"H-hey! Y-you're phone--- I mean home!" you exclaimed, quickly hitting your head and cursing yourself for messing your words up.

You felt your face grow even warmer, heart racing. The heat of embarrassment surged through you, but there was something unmistakably thrilling about his interest. Soobin tilts his head to the side, curious of what that was all about.

"They’re just… really nice,” you finally admitted, barely above a whisper, a mix of shyness and audacity washing over you.

Soobin’s smile widened, and a glimmer of something playful sparked in his deep-set eyes. “Nice, huh? I guess there are worse things to be complimented on.” He took a step closer, invading your personal space, making you acutely aware of how your body responded to his proximity.

You could feel the coldness of the concrete wall seeping through your thin shirt and kissing your warm back.

Suddenly, the air was thick with tension, a magnetic pull drawing you toward him. He leaned down slightly, tilting his head, his gaze locked onto yours. “You know, I can show you just how nice they are…” His voice dropped to a whisper, the teasing lilt sending shivers down your spine.

Without thinking, you leaned forward, and the space between you collapsed. The spark ignited, and Soobin captured your lips in a soft, tentative kiss. It was electrifying, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

As he pulled back, you gasped at the intensity of the moment, still dazed.

"Are you okay?” he asked, a mix of concern and mischief playing on his features. You nodded, your heart racing. “I think so… I just never imagined…”

“Neither did I,” he interrupted, his fingers brushing against your cheek, a subtle caress that felt intimate and exhilarating. “But sometimes, the unexpected can lead to something amazing.”

Before you could process it, Soobin pulled you closer, his lips finding yours again, this time more passionately. Your hands instinctively found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you melted into him. You could feel his warmth radiating off him, igniting an undeniable fire within you.

As the kiss deepened, his fingers moved down your arms, tracing patterns that sent jolts of electricity through your body. You pulled back for a moment, eyes searching his. “Are you sure about this?”

His playful grin returned, and he nodded. “If you're down, I'm down. Who am I to decline? Besides, I think you need me," he chuckled as he gripped your waist.

With a rush of adrenaline, you surrendered to the moment, letting go of your shyness and embracing the connection between you. It was as if nothing else mattered; the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in this shared sanctuary of desire.

The afternoon melted into an evening of exploration and passion, every soft touch and lingering kiss drawing you closer. Soobin’s fingers, the very ones that had ignited this whole encounter, explored your skin like an artist painting a masterpiece, each stroke igniting flames of longing in their wake.

"S-soobin," you choked out.

"Yes love? I'm here. I'm still here," he muttered, kissing your neck. He then pulled away and grabbed your arm, sniffing your wrist. "You smell sweet and amazing, did you take a bath already?" he asked. You simply nodded, pulling your hand away and wrapping them around his waist.

"Bedroom? I think I really need you right now," you bit your lower lip as you look up at him.

"You do?" Soobin taunts, lifting one of his hands, gently rubbing your lip. He pulled your lower lip down with his thumb. "I don't know what I could do to you. Your tiny body looks so frail and fragile compared to me."

"Please, need you..." Your eyes pleading to the tall man, rubbing your thighs together, wanting to finally feel him.

Soobin carefully wrapped his hand around your neck, slowly tightening his grip. You heard him curse under his breath when you gasped for air, clutching on his shirt. His grip easily made you lightheaded and your mind hazy. You're totally making him develop his size kink in a sexual way.

"B-bin... S-soobin..." You managed to squeak out as fat tears fell from your waterline. He pulled his hand away, and he watched you catch your breath, whimpering on his chest as you hugged him tight. Not wanting to let him know how turned on you are.

"Did I hurt you? I'm sorry, you just look... You looked so pretty when you're all drooling and crying with just my hand wrapped around your neck," he said as he hugged you back, his voice tinged with apology.

"F-felt good... Want more..." You admitted, burying your face in his chest. Soobin carried you all the way to your shared bedroom. Laying you down on the bed, carefully stripping you out of your thin clothes, and hovering above you.

"Y/n, if we don't stop now, I can't guarantee you I would be able to stop later on," he sighed, fingers gently brushing your plush thighs.

"Need you. Need you so much, please..." You begged, grabbing his toned arm. Soobin dipped his head down, kissing the tip of your nose.

"I love you, don't think that I only want your body. I love you because you are you, y/n." You weren't expecting him to spew assurance in the midst of this, especially since he was suddenly talking about your body, but it made you feel at ease for some reason.

He then grabs your hands, restraining them both with just a single hand above your head. "My hands and fingers are pretty, you say? Watch them for me, yeah?" he said as he slowly rubbed your clit.

"Mmphh!" You squirmed under him, a faint blush creeping onto your cheeks.

His digits slowly disappeared in your hole as he fucked you with his fingers. Grinning widely while watching your small frame thrash beneath him.

"Say it again," he commands, "That my fingers are pretty."

"B-bin mmphh! Your fingers are--- ahh! Are p-pretty!"

"How pretty are they?" he edged, curling his long fingers inside.

"Ohh! S-so pretty w-wanna c-cum--fuck ahh! W-wanna cum on them!" You managed.

"Mhm, go ahead, do it."

With a few more pumps, you came undone on his fingers, body twitching from sensitivity. His face lit up, looking proud that he managed to make you come on his fingers. When he pulled out his fingers, they were glistening with your arousal. Sticky. Wet. Creamy.

Yet your eyes were fixed on his essence-covered fingers. It didn't escape his sight, smirking as one nasty idea came to his mind.

He shoved his fingers in your mouth, letting you taste yourself. Allowing you to suck on his pretty fingers covered with your slick. Making you play with his fingers with your warm and hot tongue.

"Damn, you look so sexy like this. If only I knew about this, we should've done this earlier," he chuckled as he swirled his fingers on your tongue.

"Do you taste good? I bet you do." He smiled before pulling his hand away from you and dipping his head on the lower region of your body. Gripping your thighs to keep them open, licking a long stripe on your dripping pussy.

Your body arched as a guttural moan escaped from your mouth. "Damn, you do taste good, should've done this to you before."

If he has long fingers, no doubt that he has a long tongue too. That he could even tongue-fuck you and would possibly make you cum again if only he stayed longer.

Soobin pulled out a pack of condoms that had been sitting in his wallet for a long time now. "What if we hit it raw instead?" His voice was joking, yet you agreed.

Soobin was packing. Girthy --- Veiny. Thick. Long.

"B-bin too b-big!" You whined. He made you straddle him, claiming he'd reach deeper inside you in this position. Not to mention the pack of condoms discarded and long forgotten on the floor.

"Baby, you can take me. I know you can. You’re doing so good. Doing so fucking good, my pretty girl." His fingers traced the prominent bulge on your tummy. "See? I'm deep inside you. In here. Look. You're such a good girl," he coos, poking and pushing at the bulge.

His lips captured yours once again. Kissing you fervently yet carefully. "You're so tiny," he giggled as he leaned back, pulling your lower lip again with his thumb. He wasn't expecting you suck his finger into your mouth.

"Dirty," he remarks, and he felt you clench around his cock.

"Fuck, you want that? You want to be called dirty? To be called a slut?” He felt you clench around his cock again.

"Angel, didn't know you're this kinky?" he chuckled. "Aside from being choked, you quite love getting degraded, hm?"

"B-bin, 's too m-much?" You whined, wanting to hide on his neck, but he insists on watching your face contort as he rearranges your guts.

"Poor baby," he coos, red cock ramming your overstimulated cunt even harder. Your wanton moans got louder and high pitched. His thrusts got sloppy and erratic.

"Fuck, won't last long, mmphh!" His head thrown back as he grips your waist, pushing your body down on his cock, slamming through your cervix.

"M-me neither, please, n-need more," you whimpered.

One of his hands flew up to your neck, restraining your lungs to acquire enough oxygen, making your mind a little hazy and your pulse throb for a bit while he shoots his cum inside you.

"Shit!" he hisses, convulsing, as he leans his forehead on your shoulder, loosening his grip on your neck. The corner of his lips curled up when he heard you panting, gasping for air, your body twitching above him as you came undone for the second time. Your boyfriend developed many kinks, after all.

He slowly pulled away, a glob of cum flowing out from your spent hole. "Let's get you cleaned up," he whispers, along with the soft kisses being planted on your temple. You shook your head and pulled the blanket over your bodies instead, hugging him tight, neglecting the sticky feeling.

Soobin then decided to rest and clean up later. He doesn't want you to be sulky and mad anyway, so he just hugged you closer to him, gently massaging your sore body.

Smiling to himself with his eyes closed after realizing something. That when he chokes you, he now knows you love it. When he shoves his fingers on your mouth, he now knows you're reeling at the feeling. When he restrains both of your wrists with just a single hand, given how huge his hand is. He might be your big, clingy baby at times, but he's a total daddy in bed. He likes to show power and dominance towards you—his pretty little angel.

@binniesbooks 2024

[hotteoki]

skz treating your skzoo plush

warnings: bullying of skzoo plushies, they deserve better 💔

notes: not proofread

©️ hotteoki | do not repost

chan (방찬)

you knew chan was THE most genuine and sweet man you've ever met in your life, you just didn't expect him to be so sweet with the wolf chan he gifted you for valentine’s day too. “oh my god you changed his clothes!” chan exclaimed, holding wolf chan up high to examine it.

“yeah! i ordered a few sets of new clothes for him, did you know how hard it was to find this one?” you grumbled. it was hard to find someone who custom made skzoo plush clothes, you were lucky enough to come across a creator on tiktok and immediately contacted them.

“he’s so cute…” chan cooed at it, stroking wolf chan’s ears gently. “i’ve got a few more clothes for him that i haven’t had the chance to change,” you held up a few small hangers that carried different plush outfits that were custom made for your special wolf chan. chan hummed, “i still think the one he’s wearing is the best.”

“you recognise it?” “course i do! it’s iconic!” wolf chan was sporting the red ‘thunderous’ outfit chan wore in the mv. “he’s so cute!” he gushed, kissing the plush. “starting to think you love him more than me,” you crossed your arms, teasing him. “baby, you’re the love of my entire life, and i adore you. but look at wolf chan!”

you couldn’t help but laugh. chan snuggled wolf chan close to his chest and closed his eyes, using it as a teddy bear. “like you don’t have the exact same one,” you rolled your eyes playfully. “but mine’s not in this cool outfit!” chan protested, grinned like a child seeing a rainbow for the first time. he just had to be so perfect, didn’t he?

minho (민호)

it was a terrible idea to leave minho sitting on your bed alone in your bedroom, with your innocent leebit sitting peacefully on your pillow by himself. you didn’t think about it much when you left to go to the bathroom, and you definitely didn’t think of how poor leebit was going to be treated by your supposedly loving boyfriend.

you came back into your room, hands still damp. amidst wiping the water off using your top, you gasped at the sight of leebit stripped of its adorable sailor outfit, a rubber band around its ears, tying them together. minho was leaning against your headboard, mindlessly swinging leebit around by its leg, acting like he's not torturing one of your most prized possessions.

"leebit!" you rushed forward, snatching the plushie from minho's grasp. he glared at you, offended, like you were the one who betrayed him. "why do you do that to my poor baby?" you asked, frowning, pulling the band off and clothing it once again. "i thought i was your baby?" minho teased, stealing leebit from your hold when he saw you struggling with the outfit.

"not after what i had just witnessed," you sat beside him, bringing your knees up to wrap your arms around your body. when leebit returned to its original look, minho tossed him away, pulling you close to him. "yah, tell me i'm your one and only," he whined, pinching your side. you sighed endearingly, "lee min ho, you're my one and only." minho gave no response and only buried his face in your neck, but you felt his widening smile against your warm skin.

changbin (창빈)

your eyes grew heavier and heavier; you were exhausted from the long week of overwhelming work. changbin had suggested the both of you to go straight to bed the second he stepped into your shared apartment and saw the tired expression on your face. you had shook your head, insisting you wanted to watch spirited away with him. neither of you have had any free time the past few days, work succumbing both of you. he had originally promised to watch a movie of your choice as soon as he got home, but that turned out to be later than he expected.

yawning, you snuggled your dwaekki plushie to your body and wriggled closer to changbin's warm body. you leaned your head against his broad shoulders, finally shutting your eyes. although your brain was sending all the signals your body needed to sleep, your thoughts were running wild and free.

you were so focused on forcing yourself to sleep you hadn't even realised dwaekki falling out of your arms and getting picked up by changbin. as you were about to speak, he sighed to the doll, interrupting you. you opted to stay silent to see what he has to say.

"yah, dwaekki, don't you find her stubborn?" you had to resist the urge slap changbin in the chest. you felt his arm that was wrapped securely around you tilt up, allowing him to brush his fingers over your cheek gently. "but that's what i like about her," he murmured, clearly not wanting to disturb you, "i just wish she could take care of herself the way she takes care of me. she's so caring, loving and just every good thing in existence shoved into one person, she deserves the world. you better not repeat this to her though, okay, dwaekki?" oh you were so in love with this man.

hyunjin (현진)

when hyunjin came out of the shower, he wasn't surprised to see you curled up on the couch, blanket engulfing you into a cocoon, your eyes fixated on the movie playing on the television, hair pushed back by your pink fluffy hairband that matched with his. he was, however, surprised to see your arms protecting little jiniret, who also had a mini hairband on its head.

hyunjin audibly gushed at the adorable sight, running over to jump on the couch, occupying the spot next to you. he placed his hand over his heart dramatically, pretending to be struck, head slumping down and squashing jiniret. "no!" you pulled the plush from underneath hyunjin’s head, earning an offended scoff from him.

“do you not love me anymore? have you ever loved me? were you just using me to get to jiniret?” he feigned a series of sobs. you rolled your eyes, stroking his cheeks gently and moving your legs to allow hyunjin to use them as a pillow comfortably. “yes, i’ve dated you for over two years just to have your doll. i’ve never loved you, it was all a lie.”

he pouted, sitting up and glaring at you, “this is an important topic, and you’re not going to take it seriously?” you leaned forward to kiss his pout, hand reaching up to lightly graze over his jawline, “i love you, so very much, hyunjin,” you mumbled against his soft lips. he smiled, resisting a love-struck giggle.

jisung (지성)

"ji!" you called for your boyfriend while walking around the dorm, seemingly unable to find him anywhere. "he's in the living room," changbin said without looking up from his phone as he passed by. you responded with a quick thanks before making your way there. true enough, there jisung was, going on his phone. he was laid horizontally on the couch, his legs dangling off the arm rest.

crawling on top of him, you laid there with him, your ear pressed against his chest, his steady heartbeat bringing a sense of calamity to you. his free hand began combing through your hair, and you sighed contentedly. “haven’t seen you all day,” you complained, moving your head to rest your chin against his body, looking up at him. jisung switched his phone off, tossing it on the coffee table, “aw, i missed you too.”

“what have you been up to?” you asked, subconsciously leaning into his hand. “well, quokka and i spent the whole day watching tiktok after chan convinced me to download it and watch some edits stays made,” he gestured at the plush that was placed beside his head. you hadn’t even noticed it. “is that my one?” you reached your hand up to collect it, noticing the outfit you bought before.

“yeah,” he confirmed. “don’t you have your own one?” it was meant to be a rhetorical question, you didn’t really mind him taking your quokka, as long as he returned it; it was one of your most prized possessions. jisung’s ears turned red and his cheeks flushed slightly, “it smells of you, and i missed you.” now you felt yourself blushing, and you hid your face in his chest, slightly embarrassed. he only chuckled, looping his arms around your frame and making himself comfortable with you.

felix (용복)

you strolled into the kitchen, hugging bbokari close to you. it wasn’t rare for you to drag the little chicken plush around, felix wasn’t always at home and bbokari provided you the comfort of him, though it was never as good as your actual boyfriend. even when felix was home, you had adopted the habit of bringing bbokari around; he didn’t mind, if anything, he found it endearing, it showed how much you love him.

your original plan was to look for a few snacks after feeling a bit peckish, but when you saw felix munching on a bag of fried chicken, you gasped loudly. the poor man jumped from fear, not hearing you come into the room. “felix lee!” you covered bbokari’s eyes, “how dare you?” his eyes widened, “i didn’t know you were in the room!” “and that makes it okay for you to commit cannibalism?!” you stroked the plush’s back soothingly, pressing his face to your chest.

“it’s not what it looks like-” felix tried to speak. “what else could it be?! how could you eat chicken in front of our child?!” he wiped his hands and mouth quickly, standing, “i didn’t mean to-” you interrupted by lowering your head, pretending to cry. this was a usual occurrence, both of you know it was all theatrics, it was just amusing to play along.

he stepped forward gingerly, wrapping his arms around your figure, bbokari in between your two bodies. felix stroked your hair, whispering apologies continuously. minho walked into the kitchen, scrunching up his face in confusion, “the hell are you two doing?” “we’re mourning our child,” felix sighed. minho stared, “you are so weird.”

seungmin (승민)

now you knew how seungmin treated his own puppym, that plush has seen things that you couldn’t even describe. on the contrary, you liked to hug your own puppym during your sleep, it was just so small and easy to hold, seungmin liked to complain about it being a replacement. normally, you never trusted seungmin with your puppym, as much as you loved him with your whole heart and soul, the man would probably throw the plush out the window just for the hell of it, so, you never let puppym out of your sight whenever seungmin came around.

you were curled up in your warm blanket cocoon, sleeping peacefully, seungmin, however, was not. he checked the clock on your bedside drawer impatiently, 2:19AM, it read. seungmin had long given up on shaking you, forcing you to stay awake with him, you had easily fallen back into your slumber each time. he grumbled; he had taken a nap in the afternoon, despite your chastising of how he wouldn’t be able to sleep at night, he probably should have listened, given how awake he current was.

bored out of his mind, seungmin looked around the room for anything to pass time, and the innocent puppym falling out of your arms caught his eye. an idea popped up in his head and he caught the plush before it could fall on the ground. he began smacking the plush against your head, making sure not to apply too much force in case you could somehow get hurt from a doll. groaning, you blinked your sleep away, reaching your hand up to block puppym from being hit against your head anymore. upon realising what was happening, you slapped his hand, making him release your plush from his grip, “what is wrong with you?! it’s the middle of the night seungie!”

seungmin grinned from ear to ear, happy his attempts of waking you up had worked, “i can’t sleep and i’m bored.” you closed your eyes again, “how is that my problem?” “it’s not, but i’m making it your problem, only because i’m so deeply in love with you.” “stop trying to sway me, i’m pissed at you,” you mumbled, rolling your body away from him. seungmin leaned down to press a kiss on your cheek, “you love me too much to be pissed at me.”

jeongin (정인)

today was as usually; the two of you were cuddling, talking about nothing but also everything in general. you had your foxi.ny wrapped tightly in your arms, nuzzling your cheek into its fluffy ears every now and then. it was near midnight, but neither of you felt like sleeping yet, feeling content with your current position.

out of nowhere, as jeongin was in the middle of talking about what to eat tomorrow, he snatched your foxi.ny from your arms and continued on like nothing happened. you stared blankly at him, "excuse me?" he gave you a dirty look, like you were the one who stole his plush, "what? don't interrupt me."

you tried to reach for your foxi.ny again, failing as he held it farther away from you. "this is actually bullying," you pointed out. he only shrugged, "you looked more comfortable with it than me." you let your arm fall on his chest, "you're joking." "i'm very serious," jeongin firmly responded throwing foxi.ny away, the poor thing landing somewhere to the corner of your bedroom.

you sighed defeatedly, knowing you would never be able to get it back until the morning. jeongin only gave you the brightest smile, kissing your nose gently, pulling away with an exaggerated 'mwah'. this was unfair, how could you possibly stay mad at him when he's this cute?

[navybrat817]

Did you see the Sebastian photo with him in the leather jacket and Bucky hair? The black and white one? He looks so good!!!!!!!!

Is it the image below, nonnie? If so, yes! He looks amazing. So much that I had to share more rocker!Bucky. If not, I'm happy to receive the pic.

Everybody Wants a Taste

Pairing: Rocker!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Are you really Bucky's girl? He thinks so. Word Count: Over 1.5k Warnings: Implied explicit sexual content, oral implied (m. and f. receiving), possessive behavior, slight jealousy and insecurity, swearing, slight feels (it's me), sort of getting together, communication is key, Rocker!Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Some White Wolf and Luna that no one asked for! This can also count for Week 4 of the @the-slumberparty for Across the Universe!❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner by the amazing @sgt-seabass and banner by the lovely @rookthorne . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

When word got around that you were seeing Bucky Barnes, some of your friends back home told you to be careful. Not because you couldn't keep up with the rockstar, but because they didn't want him to throw you out when he eventually grew bored of you. Touching as it was, it was also insulting.

"We're having fun." you said in the group chat. "Nothing wrong with that."

"But everyone wants him!" one of them replied. "What makes you different from the rest?"

What makes you special?

"Nice fucking pep talk. Really. Appreciate the vote of confidence!" you sent.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"I'm a big girl. I can handle myself."

That was the last thing you sent in the chat.

You may have given your phone the finger, too.

As if you needed another reminder that girls, and guys, lined up to get just a glimpse of the man you somehow got to call yours. Some were better looking than you and others were nicer, but you refused to let it shatter your confidence. They didn't click with Bucky the way you did. If he woke up one day and decided he didn't want you, it wouldn't be the end of your world.

You took care of yourself long before you left home and wouldn't depend on a guy for anything. That was something you made clear when you started spending more time with Bucky. At least, you told him once you could form a coherent sentence since he fucked every sane thought out of you.

"It's okay to keep wanting me, Luna."

Being addicted to him wasn't something you anticipated nor did you want to admit that he had a hold on you. If you did, he'd have the entire deck stacked in his favor. But the cocky fucker knew he had you in the palm of his hand and you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Not when you were on your knees worshipping him like the god everyone made him out to be.

You waited for Bucky after rehearsal, knowing he could do with a bit of stress relief. Steve gave you a knowing smirk as he walked by. "Hey, baby," he teased.

“Hey, blondie,” you winked back.

"Don't call my girl 'baby', punk," Bucky said as his friend laughed.

Am I your girl?

Shamelessly allowing your eyes to roam his body as he walked closer, you wondered how he even got his jeans on some days with the heat he was packing. The rest of the band nodded to you as they passed by, knowing exactly what they'd witness if they stuck around.

"I don't remember texting you," Bucky said when he stopped, running his ringed fingers through his hair. "You don't have anything better to do than wait for me?"

Asshole. You're lucky I adore you.

Your eyes narrowed as you pushed yourself off the wall. "Plenty of other things I can be doing that don't involve you."

"C'mon, baby. I'm fucking with you," he smiled as he moved to stand in front of you. "I just figured you might be hanging out with Alice and Sunshine."

"Oh, we did each other's nails and had a pillow fight. Almost fell out of my top as I jumped around," you smiled, leaning against the wall once again.

You liked Alice and Sunshine. You'd be a bitch not to and they understood things that people back home wouldn't get. Jefferson was certainly more cheerful now that he had his girl back in his life. And Hal still adored his high school sweetheart just as much as he had the day before.

What's it like for someone to be loved the way they are?

"And I missed it? That's too bad. Didn't get a facial?"

You arched an eyebrow as he moved a finger along the swell of your breast. "How could I when you weren't there to give me one?"

"I can give you one now," he smirked.

You laughed and shook your head as you tugged him closer by his t-shirt. "I don't know if I want one anymore. I could find something else to quench my thirst."

"We both know you love the taste of my cock."

"Almost as much as you love the taste of my pussy."

He placed both hands on the wall and looked into your eyes as you bit your lip. "My favorite treat. You gonna let me get my mouth on you so I can have my fill?"

"Maybe after you fuck my throat. Maybe," you said before he brought a hand to your throat. He held it there, but didn't squeeze. "So you'd rather choke me with your hand instead of your cock?"

"Luna, baby, don't tease me."

"Isn't teasing just another form of foreplay?" you asked.

The flirty, fun banter never got old with him. Even on the days you didn't have sex, you found yourself smiling at his words and antics. It made it difficult to protect your heart. But like your body, it was yours to give the person you wanted and he had the key to the lock before you knew it.

"I want to see those pretty little lips wrapped around my cock," he stated, tightening his grip when you moaned. "Want you to choke on me before I make a mess of you."

The mere suggestion was enough for your thighs to rub together, tour panties dampening more at the thought of him using your throat to get himself off and paint your face. His thick cock filled every hole of yours to the brim time and time again, reminding you that you belonged to him. But you couldn't always give in so easily. Call it pride or a power move.

You'd both get off in the end.

"Sure you don't want one of your other groupies to suck your cock?"

Everybody wants a taste.

His smirk vanished instantly as he leaned in close enough that you could feel his breath against your lips. You didn't shy away from his gaze, captivated by the blue of his eyes. He liked that you didn't try to hide.

Caught in his trap, you couldn't duck and run if you wanted to.

"I haven't fucked anyone else in weeks," his voice dropped as he shoved his knee between your thighs without warning, your core pulsing as he brushed his lips against yours. "Thought I made it clear that you're my girl."

You swallowed hard enough for Bucky to loosen his grip. If Bucky let you in, that meant something because he didn't give himself away lightly. Sex, he could find that anywhere. Someone to stick around through the highs and lows after was another story.

One you wanted to write with him.

"You never actually asked," you said above a whisper.

It was weak to say it out loud and make him put a label on it, but you wanted to hear it.

"I didn't think I had to ask," he said, kissing the spot between your eyes with a small huff. "I thought you were already mine.”

Your stomach swirled with butterflies. "I thought you were mine, too."

"Because I am. I’m all yours," he whispered, playing dirty by rocking his knee a bit more. You were tempted to slide up a bit more and ride his thigh and weep from knowing he was really yours. "C'mon. Be mine. Be my fucking girl, Luna."

You whined when he brought his lips to yours again. You would have said "yes" regardless. "I'm your girl, but don't you dare break my heart. 'Cause I'll hunt you down and make you sorry if you do. I'll curse that glorious dick of yours, too."

Bucky threw his head back and laughed. The sound brought a smile to your face. "I'd expect nothing less. You better not curse my dick or break my heart either."

His casual tone had an underlying vulnerability that you wouldn't dare joke about.

"You're my guy, Wolfy. I won't hurt you."

And I'll be your Luna no matter what.

"Don't let anyone hear you call me that," he grinned, pulling his knee away to leave you wanting more. Tease. "I have a reputation to uphold."

You smiled as the atmosphere shifted back to the sexual charge. He didn't need to dwell on the emotions for the moment and neither did you. Your heart was full and that was more than enough for today.

"Guess you better shut me up then," you suggested as you reached for his belt.

"Oh, no. Still wanna hear you moan and whine when you take me in your mouth," he stated, stepping back so you could unzip his pants and sink to your knees. "When I'm done, you're gonna sit on my face and sing for me. Those pretty sounds of yours might inspire our next song."

"Call it 'Howl at the Moon'," you smiled up at him. "Dedicate it to me," you added with a wink.

You'd find out later that Bucky already had.

Oh, these two. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[redroomreflections]

Hotel California | Track 8: Obvious

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, frontwoman of the punk rock band Velvet Rebellion, falls hard for a woman she believes is too good for her. Their intense relationship unfolds in the chaotic world of rock 'n' roll, where they struggle to balance fame, personal demons, and their undeniable passion for each other.

W/c: 4.7k

Chapter 8/12

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: Another week of y'all reading my mediocre song lyrics. Let's wrap this up by the new year.

18+ Minors DNI (mature)

Themes: love, fame, sex, drugs

Saturdays were for tennis. Every weekend, if your dad were in town, he’d send a message inviting you and Isabella for your weekly tennis match, followed by tea on the patio with your mom. It had been this way ever since Isabella was a tiny girl, a tradition that had endured through the years.

You’d grown up watching your father maintain his high-profile career—managing bands, launching artists, orchestrating deals—but when he was home, he always made time for this simple ritual. Tennis and tea. Just the four of you. You smiled as you stepped onto the courts, the early morning sun casting a soft golden glow over everything. He was already on the court, wearing his usual pair of black sunglasses and his signature calm, calculating demeanor. His presence alone was enough to put most people on edge. But not you. You knew your father better than anyone. He had always been a man of few words, but his actions spoke volumes.

The sound of the tennis ball bouncing off the court snapped you back to the present. Isabella was sitting off to the side with your mother and a cup of tea, chatting away like a little grown-up. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of them together. Isabella was growing into her own person, and you felt lucky to have witnessed all of it. Especially now, when she would listen to your conversations, paying half attention but always absorbing every detail. Then she'd offer her advice as if you weren't the parent.

“So,” Nick said, casually hitting the ball back over the net. “How’s this Natasha girl?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. You had expected it, sure. Your father had been strangely quiet about your dating life up until now. He’d asked about Sam before, mostly because he liked the guy, and you were married to him, but Natasha? That was a different story.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your tone light. “She’s good, Dad. Really good. We’ve been seeing each other for a while now.”

Nick nodded, but you could see the gears turning in his head. The intensity in his eyes never wavered, and he returned the ball with more force than usual, almost like he was using tennis as an excuse to let out his frustration.

“You’re serious about her?” he asked, his voice more guarded than you were used to.

“Yeah, I am,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “She’s someone special.”

Nick didn’t say anything at first. He just watched you for a moment as if waiting for more. His next words came slowly, weighed down with skepticism. “I still don’t know about this whole rockstar thing. Are you sure about her? Where did you meet her?"

You knew this would come up. The idea of you dating someone in that world—especially Natasha—wasn’t exactly sitting well with him.

"Harley's birthday party," You glanced at Isabella, who was pretending to sip her tea but clearly eavesdropping. You softened your tone, mindful of her presence. “Dad, Natasha’s not just a rockstar. She’s more than that. We connect in ways that I haven’t felt before. She’s not like the others.”

Nick’s gaze didn’t soften. “I know the type. They can be... unpredictable.”

You let out a small sigh, feeling the weight of his words. “She’s different. I promise. She makes me happy.”

His expression remained neutral, but you could tell he wasn’t convinced. He jogged to the other side of the court, sending the ball flying back toward you. “I’m sure she’s got her charms. But you're my daughter. I need to know you're with someone who will treat you right. Someone who can handle all this,” he gestured to the life he'd essentially built for you.

You caught the ball and paused momentarily, considering your father’s words. “I know you’re just looking out for me, but this is my decision. And I really think Natasha’s someone worth taking a chance on.”

Nick set his racket down, his arms crossing in a familiar stance. “Alright, I’ll meet her.”

“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. You hadn’t expected that so soon.

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “If she’s serious about you, I want to see it myself. I’ve got to meet this Natasha.”

You felt a sense of relief, but that underlying tension was still over you. It wasn’t just about Natasha proving herself to your father; it was about you figuring out where your relationship was headed. You hadn’t even begun to put all the pieces together in your mind, but now, with your dad’s approval, it felt like things were moving faster than you could keep up with.

“Well, looks like you’re going to have to start warming up to the idea,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Nick just grunted, grabbing his racket again. “We’ll see how this plays out.”

"She's really nice, Papa Nick," Isabella joined in. "We went to the movies last week, and she bought me the biggest-sized popcorn."

"Is that so?" Nick raised a brow. "Have you met her, Jen?" He looked to your mom for her answer.

"I have not,"

"Hmm," Nick hummed. "I suppose we'll just have to wait and see. When is she free?"

"Tomorrow," You replied.

"Perfect. Tomorrow then," He decided.

Good luck to both of you.

***

To say that this brunch was awkward was an understatement. Your father, ever the master of subtle intimidation, had given Natasha the cold shoulder despite your repeated pleas for him to ease up. He wasn’t outright rude or cruel—Nick Fury didn’t operate that way—but his protective instincts were dialed up to eleven. A quiet comment here, a lingering stare there—it was enough to make even you, a mid-twenties divorcee with a sharp tongue, squirm.

Natasha, for her part, seemed unfazed. She sat next to you at the long dining table, her posture relaxed, her green eyes scanning the room with genuine interest. She’d earlier complimented the house’s mid-century charm, admiring the collection of vinyl records your dad kept in pristine condition. Now, she was nursing her coffee, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of the cup, looking every bit the calm rockstar you’d come to admire.

“So, Natasha,” your dad’s voice broke the silence, his tone casual but carrying an edge, you knew all too well. He leaned back in his chair, studying her like she was one of his clients sitting across the negotiation table. “Did you go to college?”

Natasha glanced at you briefly, a small, reassuring smile tugging at her lips before she turned to your dad. “I didn’t,” she admitted, her voice steady. “I was already touring in small venues with the band by the time I finished high school. It was a different path, but one I’m proud of.”

Nick raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. “No regrets about that?”

Natasha shook her head, her eyes meeting your dad's. She didn't shy away from the challenge.

"I'm not a person who regrets. Not if it means I'm doing what I love."

Your dad hummed, seeming to consider her words. You held your breath, watching the exchange closely. For a moment, it was silent, save for the clinging of your mom's fork against her plate.

"Do you value education?" He questioned.

"I do,"

"Good. Then you'll understand when I say I want the best for my daughter and granddaughter. They deserve nothing less than that."

Natasha nodded, her gaze unwavering. "With all due respect, sir, I believe the same."

"Hmm." Your dad hummed. "You're very direct." Your father nodded slowly, clearly weighing her words. “The music industry’s not exactly a walk in the park. A lot of people get chewed up and spit out.”

Natasha met his gaze without flinching. “That’s true. But I’ve got good people around me and learned how to stay grounded. I’ve also learned how to be better as an artist and person.”

You couldn’t help but smile. Natasha had a way of handling the pressure that you envied, and seeing her hold her own with your father was impressive.

Your dad didn't look away, but you could tell he was contemplating her words.

"What are your intentions with my daughter?" He asked bluntly.

Natasha didn't even flinch. "I care deeply about your daughter, sir. She's one of the most genuine people I've met, and I value her input. Her opinion matters to me. I enjoy spending time with her."

Nick's face softened, but only slightly. "I'm glad to hear that. So you understand my hesitation."

Natasha nodded. "Of course. And I'd never disrespect or disregard your family."

"Daddy, do you have to ask her so many questions?" You sighed.

"I'm just trying to get to know the person who's going to spend a lot of time with my grandbaby," He shrugged. "You understand."

"Yes," Natasha responded.

"What are your parents like?" Your father inquired, changing the topic.

"My mother is a science teacher," Natasha said. "She lives in Jersey. I call her twice a week."

"And your father?"

Natasha's jaw tightened. "I haven't spoken to my father since I was sixteen,"

"Why is that?" Your father asked.

Natasha shifted slightly in her chair, her gaze lowering for the first time. "He and my mom got divorced when I was younger. After the divorce, he didn't want anything to do with me."

"Oh," Nick's brow furrowed.

"He wasn't the best man," Natasha's tone was firm, her gaze returning to meet your dad's. "But my mom did a great job raising my sister and me. She always made sure I had a roof over our heads and food in the fridge, and she instilled good morals in us. She taught me how to be a strong woman, and I'm thankful for her every day."

Natasha’s words seemed to strike a chord with Nick. He leaned back in his chair, his expression softening slightly as he considered her answer. You could tell he wasn’t expecting that level of candor or the quiet pride with which Natasha spoke about her mom.

“Sounds like your mom did right by you,” he finally said, a hint of approval in his tone.

“She did,” Natasha replied with a small, genuine smile. “She’s one of the strongest people I know.”

The room seemed to settle momentarily, the tension loosening just enough for your mom to jump in. She had been quietly observing up to this point, sipping her tea with a soft smile. Now, her curiosity sparked.

“You mentioned you have a sister?” Jen asked, her tone warm and inviting.

Natasha turned her attention to her, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “Yelena. She’s studying at the University of Cambridge right now. International Relations major. She’s brilliant, honestly. Way smarter than I ever was at her age.”

“Cambridge,” Jen echoed, clearly impressed. “That’s no small accomplishment. You must be proud.”

“I am,” Natasha said with a nod. “She worked really hard to get there. We’re close, so I always cheer her on from here.”

Jen smiled, clearly charmed, and even Nick seemed to appreciate the answer. He tapped his fingers on the edge of his coffee cup before leveling his gaze at Natasha again.

“So, you’ve got a smart sister, a strong mom,” he said. “What about you? You know good music?”

You groaned inwardly, recognizing the shift in his tone. Nick Fury’s “test” voice was unmistakable, and you braced yourself for the next question.

Natasha, however, didn’t miss a beat. She tilted her head slightly, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “I’d like to think so. Music’s kind of my whole life.”

Nick raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. “Alright then. Who’s your favorite artist?”

It was a direct, deceptively simple Nick Fury question designed to put someone on the spot.

Natasha didn’t flinch. She smiled, considering her answer momentarily before replying, “It depends on the day. Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours is one of my all-time favorites, but I also love modern stuff. Brandi Carlile, Hozier... sometimes even Billie Eilish when I’m in the right mood.”

Nick nodded slowly, clearly evaluating her response. "What about people that look like me?"

"Dad," you warned, feeling your temper flare.

Natasha's smile didn't fade; she took his question in stride.

"Muddy Waters," Natasha replied, her voice filled with confidence. "Aretha Franklin. Nina Simone."

"Ahh," Nick nodded approvingly, a hint of surprise registering on his face. "I like that. When's your next album coming out?"

"Well, we have a few tracks in the worse. Should be done in the next few months," Natasha wiped her mouth. Discussing music put her at ease. This was her territory. "We have a couple of songs we're still debating about. Actually, we're looking at y/n for the vocals. I was going to mention it to you when we had a moment alone."

"Wanda already did," You nodded.

"You talked to Wanda?" She looked at you.

"Yes, we exchanged numbers at the party," You shrugged. "We talk all the time."

"Of course you do," She muttered.

"Well, how do you feel about the song y/n? "Jen asked.

"I'm a little nervous," You admitted.

"She's got a great voice," Natasha praised. "She's a natural. The song's a perfect fit."

"That's not the issue," You sighed.

"Oh?" Nick perked up.

You sighed, glancing at your parents, who were waiting expectantly. Natasha’s praise was sweet but didn’t erase the knot of hesitation tightening in your chest.

“It’s not that I don’t like the song,” you started, fiddling with your napkin. “Or that I don’t think it’s a great opportunity.”

“Then what is it?” Natasha asked, her voice soft but curious.

“It’s...” You hesitated, glancing at your dad, who was watching you closely now. “I’ve put singing behind me for a reason. I worked hard to separate myself from that world, to build something on my own. And I don’t want anyone thinking—”

“Thinking what?” Natasha leaned in, her tone patient but firm.

“That we’re together because I want to boost my career,” you admitted, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “I’ve seen those kinds of PR stunts a million times. They’re transparent and cheap, and I don’t want to look like... that.”

"That's completely understandable," Natasha said. She was content to leave it there. She knew firsthand how to handle this topic for you.

"Well, let's hear the song." Your dad suggested.

"Dad..." You began.

"Before you say no to it, at least hear it," He shrugged. "I have a studio in the guest house. Surely Natasha has her music loaded and ready." You knew what this was. He was testing the both of you. He was mostly trying to push you but also gauge Natasha's knowledge of music. This would be interesting.

****

An hour later, Natasha sat at the mixing board, her fingers flipping switches and turning knobs. A laptop propped up nearby displayed Wanda’s face over FaceTime, her expression focused as she listened intently. Nick sat off to the side, arms crossed but intrigued as Natasha played the first track. He didn’t say much, but the way his brows furrowed in thought spoke volumes.

You sat on a low couch a few feet away, curled up with a notebook. Mostly, you’d stayed quiet, content to watch the interplay between your dad and Natasha. It was rare to see him this interested in someone else’s craft—rarer still for him to keep his opinions to himself for more than five minutes.

As the song wound down, Natasha leaned back in her chair and glanced at Wanda on the screen. “What do you think? Too much reverb on the bridge?”

Wanda shook her head. “No, I like it. It gives the vocals more weight. What about layering the guitar riff in the second verse, though? Feels like it could use a little more punch there.”

“Good call,” Natasha nodded, making a note on a pad beside her.

Nick leaned forward, his gaze sharp. “You’re not a producer, are you?”

Natasha chuckled. “Not officially, no. But I’ve spent enough time in studios to pick up a thing or two.”

Nick didn't look impressed.

"I'm the creative force," She smirked. "If we want it, I can do it."

He grunted.

You glanced at your dad, wondering if he would bring up the song you were supposed to record. The question was evident on his face, but he hesitated to voice it.

Wanda, however, didn't have the same reservations. She was always the one to ask the hard questions, especially if the answers mattered.

"Are you going to record the song, or what?"

You let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through your hair.

"I might have written down a few lyrics that fit me better," You acknowledged. You stood to be given the camera. "I'm not saying no, but I want the song to represent me as well. That's all."

"That's fair," Wanda nodded.

"We can try it out right now if you want?" Nick suggested. "Let's see how good your pen actually is."

"It's certainly improved since you last heard it, old man." You jested. Natasha began to play the music and offered you the floor to give constructive criticism. "Well, if you're going to lean into the whole crossover thing, it should feel more R&B. Subtle."

Natasha immediately adjusted the track, tweaking the tempo and softening the guitar riff. The harder punk elements faded into a smoother, almost sensual melody aligned more with an R&B vibe. She glanced at you as she worked, her expression open and eager for feedback.

“Like this?” she asked, her fingers moving expertly across the board.

“Closer,” you said, stepping further into the room. “The drumline should be heavier but not overpowering. Something you feel in your chest, you know?”

Nick raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “You’ve got an ear for this.”

“She does,” Natasha agreed, her voice carrying a note of pride. “She hears music differently. It’s why I wanted her on this track.”

Your cheeks warmed at the compliment, but you focused on the task. “And the bridge—it needs to soar. It's like a release before the last chorus. Build up, then let it break down smooth.”

Natasha adjusted the track again, layering in a subtle drumbeat and tweaking the synths to give the bridge the lift you described. She played it back, and the room filled with the revised sound.

“Yeah, that’s it,” you said, nodding. “That feels more like it.”

“Damn,” Wanda said through the camera, a grin spreading across her face. “She’s good.”

You opened your notebook to the page you'd scribbled on. You sat next to Natasha, showing her the lyrics. "I think we should be more of a duet. Obviously, Wanda will be there, but..."

Natasha looked at the lyrics, then at you.

"We're already a duo,"

"Is that a problem?"

"Not for me," She winked.

"Perfect," Wanda chimed in.

"This is the new bridge," You hummed along with the music, letting Natasha play the music.

"I don't want to make it obvious,

Caught in the midst and can't lie.

Every touch, you make it harder for me, baby,

Go ahead and look me in my eyes."

Your voice laced each line with a hint of vulnerability, and Natasha watched intently, her fingers lightly tapping against her chair to the beat as she mouthed the lyrics along with you.

The pre-chorus was next, soft but building:

"I can admit when I'm hiding from you,

But you see right through my disguise."

The music swelled, and your voice dropped to a raspy, sultry whisper.

"Baby, when I'm with you, I can't hide."

You glanced up at Natasha, meeting her gaze. Her green eyes were intense, and there was a familiar intensity in the way her jaw flexed. She seemed lost, but her lips parted ever so slightly.

"I think that's great," Wanda's voice boomed through your reverie as the music faded.

"It's certainly something," Your dad smirked from his spot in the corner.

"Natasha, what do you think?" You asked. "Does it seem too r&b for you guys?"

"Are you kidding me? You nailed it. It's perfect." Natasha gave you a thumbs-up. "We need to record this, babe. That was really great."

Natasha leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees, still tapping a rhythm on her thigh. "So, are you in?" she asked, her tone casual but her eyes betraying her anticipation.

You hesitated for a beat, not because you doubted the song but because of what it represented—a step into the spotlight you'd carefully avoided for years. Of course, this could all go the opposite way. You could fade back into oblivion, and the song wouldn't even chart. Somehow, you knew you had a hit on your hands. Your gaze flickered to your dad, sitting back in his chair with a knowing smirk.

"You knew this would happen, didn’t you?" you asked him, crossing your arms playfully.

Nick shrugged, his grin widening. "I knew the moment you heard the track, you couldn’t walk away. You’ve got the itch, kid. It’s in your blood."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips. Turning back to Natasha, you said, "Yeah, I’m in. Let’s do it."

Natasha’s face lit up with a grin, and she stood. "You won’t regret it," she said, her voice brimming with excitement.

"I better not," you teased, though your excitement started to bubble beneath the surface.

From the corner of the room, Wanda’s voice came through the speaker. "Finally! This is going to be amazing."

Natasha chuckled, sliding an arm around your waist. "She’s right. This is just the beginning."

Nick clapped his hands together, drawing everyone’s attention. "Well, now that we’re all on the same page, let’s record this before you second-guess yourself."

You rolled your eyes again but nodded. "Fine. But if this blows up and I’m on the cover of People next month, I’m blaming all of you."

"Deal," Natasha said, her arm still around you as she leaned in close. Her voice dropped to a murmur, just for you. "But something tells me you’ll love every second of it." 

*****

Later that evening, after the studio session and brunch with your parents, you invited Natasha back to your place. You weren't ready to let her go, reveling in her presence and warmth. You and Natasha found yourselves alone in the dimly lit living room. The air was still charged with the session's energy, and you couldn't shake your feelings.

Natasha handed you a cup of tea, her fingers brushing yours briefly. "For the nerves," she said with a small smile.

You laughed softly, taking the mug and curling up on the plush couch. "I’m not nervous. Just... processing."

She sat beside you, close but not too close, her arm draped casually along the back of the couch. "Processing what?"

"Everything. I don’t know," you said, sighing. "I thought I was done with all this, you know? But, here I am."

Natasha nodded, sipping her tea and letting the silence hang.

You continued, "I mean, I have a good life. I have a good job, friends, my own place."

"And now a kick-ass duet," Natasha added.

"Yeah, it is really great," You nodded. "Without me. You and Wanda are great songwriters."

"You're not so bad yourself." She grinned. "You have to meet our new manager. Mitch Lester."

"Mitch Lester," You tried it on your tongue. You narrowed your eyes.

"What?"

"Nothing," You shook your head. "She manages a couple of my clients."

"Is that good or bad for us?" Natasha tilted her head.

"It's great. She's great," You nodded.

You smiled softly, leaning back into the couch, letting the warmth of Natasha’s presence settle around you. The way she talked to you and never hesitated to share or ask questions were things you didn’t take for granted. In the past, you had been with people who avoided the deeper conversations and let things fester instead of speaking up. But Natasha was different. She didn’t shy away from the difficult topics. In fact, it seemed like she embraced them.

"I’m glad you came to meet my parents," you said, quiet but sincere. "I know it wasn’t easy, but you didn’t flinch."

Natasha’s gaze softened, and she leaned forward, elbows on her knees, her fingers intertwined as she considered your words. "You mean a lot to me, Y/N. Your family means something to me because you mean something to me."

Your heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in her voice. The fact that Natasha didn’t just show up out of obligation but because she wanted to connect with you on a deeper level was something you hadn’t expected but needed. You never thought that kind of honesty would feel so right.

"I think that’s why I like us," you said, your voice a little more confident now. "You always let me in. You communicate with me. You never make me guess or wonder what you're thinking."

Her lips twitched into a smile, a small chuckle escaping her. "I try to keep it simple," she said with a wink. "No games."

You laughed, feeling your nerves ease even more. How she looked at you and made you feel seen was a feeling you hadn’t experienced in a long time.

"You really don’t hold back, do you?" you teased, feeling lighter and more at ease than you had in weeks.

"No reason to," Natasha replied. She moved a little closer, her knee brushing against yours. "I’ve always been more straightforward. With you... it’s easy."

It was easy. That was the truth of it. You didn’t have to question Natasha’s intentions, and that made everything feel smoother and more natural than you could’ve anticipated.

"You know, I’m happy," you said, your voice softening. "Like, genuinely happy. I don’t think I’ve felt this way in a while."

Natasha’s expression softened, her hand subtly brushing against yours. "I’m happy too, Y/N. It’s just... easy, isn’t it?"

You nodded, eyes meeting hers. "Yeah. It is."

A comfortable silence stretched between you both, but it wasn’t awkward. It was the kind of silence that came from mutual understanding, from a connection that didn’t need words. For the first time in a long time, you let yourself just feel—letting the moment unfold, enjoying the simplicity of being with someone who saw you, truly saw you, and accepted you as you were.

"I love you," Natasha said smoothly. Your eyes widened as you tried to process what she'd said. She leaned closer to you, her lips ghosting over yours, the tension palpable.

"I...I love you too." You said with such sincerity Natasha almost swooned. This felt right. You didn't want to think about how long you'd been dating or whether or not things would go bad. Here, in this moment, you were comfortable with each other. You loved her.

Natasha captured your lips with her arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you close. The kiss was passionate and fierce, and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips. Her hands were everywhere, tracing the lines of your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. She was fire, and you were drawn to her like a moth.

"You said it back," Natasha said her voice husky. She pushed you to lie gently on the couch.

"I said it back," You giggled. "I do love you."

Natasha groaned softly, her lips trailing a path down your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. You arched into her touch, feeling your body responding to her. You were two magnets drawn to each other and couldn't resist the pull.

Natasha's hand slid beneath your shirt, her fingertips tracing patterns on your skin, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake.

"This is real for me," She whispered. "You and me. It's real."

"I know," You murmured, your eyes locked on hers. You could feel her emotions in how her hands roamed your body, how her lips sought yours, and how her breath hitched when your fingertips brushed her skin.

She kissed you again, this time with an intensity that left you breathless.

"It's real for me too." 

This is the part where we gear up for some real rockstar Hollywood shit to go on in the next chapters. ---> next part

[beetlesau]

Bus Ride, Drabble Dabble, Bakugo/Reader

I'm obsessed with the idea that Bakugo would go feral for a woman that's as normie as his dad just because his mom CHASED his dad DOWN because she wanted him, And Bakugo is his moms twin. ANYWAY. Just messing around with a tame version of that idea. Being bored. Zero Edits, I don't even know if I spelt names correctly lol K Baaiiiii

"Why does your hair look like that?" Mineta peaked over the bus seat down at you. You instinctually pulled the collar of your shirt up to cover any cleavage that could have been showing from that view. 

You sighed, it was a common question back in school before UA. You'd been made fun of for it for as long as you could remember, but you never cared. It was your second year at UA, you'd thought someone would have said something sooner than now, but here you were. You made an obvious glance up at Mineta's purple grapelike head before bringing your attention back to his face. 

"Same reason yours looks like that, I guess. Our quirk just made us different." You looked back down to a Heroes Weekly Tabloid magazine you'd been busying yourself with prior. 

Your hair was normal, bland even, save for the bands of white that flowed down from your temples. The doctors said that when your quirk manifested, it must have put such a strain on you that your body responded in the odd way it did. The same thing happened to your eye color. You had such intense grey eyes after your quirk appeared you hardly remember the color they were before that day.  

"No I mean your haircut!" he chided. Your eye twitched before you looked up again at the pervert menace. You noticed that comment also grabbed the attention of the others on the bus. 

In the seat across from Mineta sat Ashido and Uraraka. Uraraka, who sat by the window, glowered at the boy as best as her round sweet face could. Ashido sneered and shot a glance over to Mineta's seatmate, Kaminari. A look that said, "if you don't do something, I will."

Kaminari, not wanting to have his face melted off as collateral damage, stood in his chair and turned back to face you as well. He put on his best flirty smile and propped his cheek on his fist. "I don't know, I think it looks pretty good. Edgy. Mysterious."

"Yeah, it's a mystery why she has that haircut. It's so unflattering on you! You could be an absolute ten if you'd just--"

Mina flung her leg across the aisle, shoving her boot into Mineta AND Kaminari's sides.

"You dimwitted jerks! You're lucky she doesn't have Uraraka float your two asses and hog tie you to the bus like a couple of balloons!"

"Say the word and I'll do it, girl!" Uraraka looked at you with her dusted pink cheeks. She may have been a softy but she was a ride-or-die. 

You laughed at your two best friends and shook your head no. It was alright. It wasn't anything you weren't used to.

"She cuts it herself." a gravelly voice across from you catches your attention. "Didn't you say that, like, first day of school? Do you not pay attention, idiots?" Bakugo takes one of his earphones out as he readjusts against his school bag. All the noise must have bothered him enough to chime in. 

All four members of the conversation lean out into the aisle and look back at the blonde. Did he just say he remembered some random thing someone said about themselves? 

"Oh. Right, yeah I kind of do remember that." Kaminari pulls out his phone and starts typing away like a madman. Not seconds later a couple of simultaneous dings are heard a bit further up the bus. "Uh, do you know why she cuts it herself though?"

"What's it to you dumbass? She's right there, ask her yourself." he sucks his teeth annoyed, but looks over to you. "Don't tell this shithead anything you don't want to." You smiled at him, your cheeks finding a bit of color before you turned back to Kaminari. You raised your eyebrows at him as though to say, "You heard the man."

Kaminari groans before trying a new tactic. "I mean, I already know the answer. I remember, I was just trying to see if YOU remembered. In fact, I think I probably know more about her than anyone else on this bus." he stated matter-of-factly. You looked at him with an incredulous expression before the hothead across from you spoke out again. 

"You're full of shit." he turns to you again, "You cut it that way so it doesn't get in your way! That's why it doesn't matter what the hell it looks like. You're not trying to win fuckin beauty pageants, you're trying to kick villain ass."

"What's going on, what did I miss? What was that text about?" Kirishima crouched in the aisle, looking to Kaminari for answers. 

"Kirishima, thank god! Mineta move, let Kirishima sit there, you've been a menace long enough today." Mineta checked the seat Kirishima had just come from and saw it was across from Yaoyorozu and agreed without too much fuss.

"Oh, man, you just missed Bakugo say that the lil lady back here isn't winning any beauty pageants." Kaminari slowly shook his head in mock disappointment. 

"WHAT THE HELL? DID I FUCKING SAY THAT??? YOU WANNA KEEP PUTTING WORDS IN MY MOUTH?" Bakugo shot up from his seat, sparks popping off his hands that gripped the back of Ashido and Uraraka's chair, the smell of scorched plastic permeated before Uraraka opened her window.

"It's okay Bakugo, he's just trying to mess with you. You're right though, I just hate having my hair in my eyes so I cut my bangs myself." you blow air up from your mouth and watch as the short choppy fringe fluttered about just a bit. "One of these days I'm gonna have tech support just make me a built-in headband so I can grow them out. The grow-out stage is a bitch, is all. " you laugh.

"So that's why Bakugo called you Fringe for the first year of school!" Kirishima nodded in understanding.

"Hey, Kirishima, do you know her favorite color, by the way?" Kaminari ponders dramatically. 

"Uh, It'd be a guess, but no I don't think I've ever asked--What is your favorite color?" Kirishima politely and enthusiastically requested the information from you now. 

"Oh! Well now hold on a minute, maybe we SHOULD guess it." Kaminari's words were laced with a layer of sticky entrapment but you were curious to see where he was going with all this nonsense. 

"Sure, go ahead." you shrugged. 

"Let's take turns guessing. Is it teal?" he looked at you expectantly, and you gave him a cocked side-eye. 

"No-"

"OH darn. Okay Bakugo, your turn. What's her favorite color?"

"This is stupid." he huffed

"Well if you don't know, just say so--"

"It's the same as her birthstone, jackass."

Your blush told Kaminari he was correct, or at least close enough. 

"What makes you so sure? Did she tell you?"

"Obviously it's the same as her birthstone, she has a bracelet she wears that's that color, so why wouldn't it be? It's not that hard to figure out if you weren't an idiot."

"--you know her birthdate?" Uraraka's eyes were wide and she was blushing profusely, knowing full well what was happening. 

"What's her favorite food?" Mina piped up, ignoring the subtlety that Kaminari was attempting, seeing exactly what he was trying to get from the angry blonde. 

"How the hell should I know." Bakugo sunk back down in his seat, attempting to put his dead earphones back on, conveying he was done with the interrogation. 

"Well that's a tough one anyway, I'll eat just about anything. I'm not picky." you shrugged, trying to save Bakugo from any more annoyance. 

"Psh. Yeah, but you have such an annoying sweet tooth. I swear I came down to the common area one time and you were practically scarfing down a cupcake. I thought you'd end up eating the wrapper." Bakugo interjected. 

"Oh, that's ... That's true actually!" you grinned. "Well, the sweets part. I was not going to eat the wrapper! Sato had made some for the class. Maybe if you didn't go to bed so early you could of known how amazing it was." you pouted.

"I don't eat sweets before bed, are you nuts? How's anyone supposed to sleep hopped up on sugar? I don't know how you do it." he mumbled, crossing his arms and spreading to take up more room in his seat. 

"Ah, well I suppose I do have trouble falling asleep sometimes." you considered, "I should try out your schedule for a week and see if it helps!"

"WHY ARE YOU ALL STARING? What the fuck could you all have to look at? Fucking annoying." Bakugo stopped to yell when he noticed the small group of onlookers were, well, still looking at the two of you. 

"Kaminari, he's right, you should mind your own business." Mina said as she and Uraraka turned back around to go back to their own thing. Mina turned to send you a glance and pointed at her phone, indicating you should check your phone. 

Looking at your recent messages you see one from the pinkette,

So are you going to pretend it's normal for THAT guy to know everything about you??

You bit your lip as you glanced over at the annoyed guy staring into the back of the seat in front of him. His leg was bouncing in boredom and probably irritation if you had to guess.

Mina was your best friend, but she could be a bit dramatic. 

You weren't sure you were ready to tell her that Bakugo had made it known to you that he was interested. Like, VERY interested.

And you were, less obviously, interested back. You knew his favorite food. His favorite color. He even told you things that made him feel insecure and confided his feelings about being a hero to you. 

It happened suddenly one day. You noticed him looking at you, like actually looking. He held you back after class and said your actual name and not just fringe. That was when you realized you had feelings for him. You didn't hate the nickname, and you considered yourself on good terms with him. He acknowledged your strength and treated you as an equal. But something about the way he said your name made your mind go fuzzy. It felt like you'd just woken from a dream and saw him for the first time. Were his eyes always that intense? 

"I talked to my old man the other day, and he told me some gross shit about how when he and my mom met- she pursued him relentlessly. Borderline insane is what it sounded like to me. My pop apparently doesn't have a spine and he just gave in. Whatever." Bakugo rolled his eyes before waiting for you to say something. 

"Oh! Um, I don't know, I guess I can see how that's romantic. Uh, why are you telling me this though?" you shuffled your weight from one foot to the other, noticing there was a bit too much heat bouncing off the two of you. 

Bakugo bit the inside of his cheek, taking a moment to find the wording. "I'm not crazy like that. I'm not some clone of my old Hag I just wanted to say." he lifted his arm to stretch his back, his actions nonchalant for such an odd topic of conversation. "Anyway, I waited a year is all I wanted to say, so I think I'm going to persue you now."

"Wh-what? You waited. Ah what?" you stammered, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. "W-what if I don't want you to pursue m-me?" you laughed. You were nervous. And nervous you always say something to deflect the awkward feelings. 

"I'm not very good at not getting what I want, but like I said-I'm not crazy like that old hag, I'll let you have your own say. Anyway. I'll see you later." and then he left you standing there dazed and confused. 

You looked over to him now, sitting alone in his seat. Why else would you have been sitting in the back if not because you knew he'd be back here? You smile to yourself. While this could be your secret for a little while longer you really couldn't resist after seeing his commitment to knowing you in front of the others. 

You pull out your earphones, put one ear in, and hold out the other to Bakugo, who accepts without hesitation. He shoots you a nod and pushes his bag to the floor making room for you to sit by him. 

And you do. You probably will for the rest of your life if he has his way, and you're happy with that. 

[sevs-corner]

Lemme remind you that you asked for this.

So let’s imagine emo jock ghost practically harassing reader every day for a new mixtape, but reader being an emo nerd also gets bullied on the daily. And Simon notices, would he become protective of her?

Let’s also imagine reader in a band, probably a bassist or something. What would his reaction be? To the band, their music, live gigs. Would he harass reader for their music ass well?

Let’s imagine as well reader is a feminine pretty girl on top of emo. A lil gothic. Maybe shy and sweet, but a freaky dommy mommy when she get comfortable. How to Simon take that?

You can reshape all this however you wish, don’t feel pressured to do it all if you don’t want to. I just wanted to let it all in your hands

Lots of love 🫶🏻

THE WAY I GASPED AT THE FIRST SENTENCE ALREADY WAHAHAHAHHA

Thank you so much for feeding into this actually-- YOU COOKED !!

(Will be editing and adding onto this more tomorrow my time but holy shit i needed to respond to this asap)- edit#1: I have come back to rehash this even more LMAO

you can find the prev ask here !

Tw: 18+ Content beyond this point - MDNI

Simon would DO notice but he makes no moves until you're close enough to do that

Like, to the point of hanging out outside of class, exchanging phone numbers, exchanging mixtapes, exchanging cigs (exchanging spit too but thats a different point)

If you're at that point of the relationship, only then would he be protective of you and actually stand up for you

He would even protect you from the other TF 141 members if he sees you being harassed by them (but he still tries to keep it lowkey- not wanting the others to know that he's been keeping you busy and occupied that they can't play with you after classes)

All because you already promised to play with him the night before

I actually also though of reader being a bassist! (I love bass covers of songs and will always look for a bassist in the band because they are the secret carry's of a song frfr)

So if you were, you played with either a new or old band (when you moved to the new highschool)

Sometimes you would bring your instrument with you to school to shred behind the bleachers or find an unoccupied room

And, lucky him, he hears one of his favorite bands song being covered

Surprise, surprise- he finds you

Just ripping out a new one with the sleek bass of yours

Then on, he started taking more interest and actively tries finding you and where you practice

And he just so happens to catch wind of you preparing for a concert

He just so happens to be there when you have a concert

Just so happens to get lucky and get those VIP tickets

Just so happens to be one of the lucky few that gets a meet and greet with the band

He definitely will vibe with said bandmates and be invited to an after party where he drinks with everyone (he asks Johnny to hook him up in advance of course)

He doesn't even need to harrass reader because he is your number 1 fan

He already bought all of your cds-- you "just need to sign 'em", he says, as he shows up to your meet and greet

You're a bit shocked but you try to hide that giddy feeling thats threatening to burst because you feel like you'll push him away (you wouldnt be able to- he is, once again i say with a loud ass speaker, HOOKED LINED UP, AND SINKERED)

So you try to act lowkey but he's actually pissed off this, hoping you'd be more excited to see him

So he still acts gruff with you around school afterwards

And if reader is a feminine goth dommy mommy?

Oh my days-- it is over for Simon

The 180 from your outward personality being sweet and all that to just dominating him with with most disgusting and filthy words

Oof, he is down on his knees for everyday if he could

Whatever you say, he will do it

Even going against the other 141 guys

And my oh my, will he be so possessive over you that he wouldn't even dare to share the experience he gets when he has you in the privacy of his room

[redtsundere-writes]

Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

mma fighter!sukuna ryomen x femalecoach!reader

Part 7. Help Me To Help You

Beginning. ← Previous | Next →

Spynosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Reader is a baddie. Warnings: MDNI. +18. Cursed words. I only read it once, lmao. Smut. Raw sex. Vaginal. Oral. Humiliation. Reader is dom. Sukuna is sub. Word count: 4149 words. A/N: We are finally in the middle of this story. Thanks for all the support and the comments! Hope you like this chapter.

Less than 48 hours left until fight night. This time, the championship night would take place in Tokyo. It was always good to fight at home so we didn’t have to worry about traveling nor having jet lag. Sukuna and Naoya had gone through the judges and referees for the official weigh-in at the official UFC facility. Luckily, Naoya threw me a couple of flirtatious winks and didn't say a word during the brief encounter. If Sukuna found out that I betted my position as his coach, he would kill me without hesitation.

The band of the treadmill was moving under my feet. I couldn’t give up. The outcome of this fight rested on my attitude against the circumstances. My arms swayed with every step I took. I had to secure Sukuna's luck no matter what. I was losing my breath due to fatigue. Sukuna won the last fight against Toji Fushiguro thanks to me. My feet were moving on their own. Should I fuck him again?

“Hey!” Sukuna shouted in my ear, waking me up from my thoughts.

My feet stopped dead in their tracks on the treadmill, causing me to lose my balance and stumble. The band pushed me off the platform, sending me rolling to the ground. My head was spinning, so I lay down to recover. It's a lousy idea to get up suddenly after a serious fall, that's how you pass out. I knew it from experience.

“What the fuck is wrong with you today? You're acting weird lately,” Sukuna asked me, annoyed.

“Shut up,” I mumbled with a frown.

“Are you worried about the fight tomorrow?” he asked, irritated.

“Of course I'm worried! If you don't win tomorrow, I'll have to go back to the Zen’in’s!”, I thought, but I couldn't tell him that. I had gotten myself into this mess on my own, I was willing to get out of it alone and teach that jerk Naoya Zen’in a lesson.

“A little, but it will be alright. I trust your good luck ritual will work, by the way, do you have someone to fuck already?” I asked, trying not to sound too obvious.

“Keep your fucking voice down!” Sukuna scolded me between whispers, kneeling down next to me to look me at the eye. “Only Yuuji should know, but he opened his mouth and now you and Gojo know,” he whispered, after making sure no one around us was paying attention.

“Megumi knows about it too.”

“That nosy little shit,” he grumbled before desperately doing a facepalm.

I didn't think he was embarrassed by his lucky ritual. Yes, it was unconventional, but I didn't know it was a big open secret. Usually male athletes are not embarrassed about fucking multiple women, they even flex about it by bringing a different woman to their matches. I thought Sukuna would be like them, I was surprised he wasn’t.

“Get up now, you look stupid,” he said as he offered his hand to help me.

“Good thing I caught you resting, Sukuna,” Nanami announced his presence as he approached us. “Hey, weren't you supposed to leave 10 minutes ago?” he asked me directly. I looked at my watch, it was 2:10 pm. I had to leave soon if I wanted to get to my appointment on time.

“That's right! Thanks for reminding me,” I thanked Nanami before rushing to the lockers to change.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going? Tomorrow is fight night!” Sukuna shouted angrily as he grabbed my arm to stop me from running away.

“It’s going to help you win! I promise!” I exclaimed to get him to let me go.

“Are you going to let her go just like that?” Sukuna asked Nanami as if he was my dad.

“She asked to leave early a month ago, she told me it was important. It's in her rights as an employee,” Nanami explained calmly.

I abruptly let go of Sukuna, and he grumbled in contempt. He knew Nanami was right. If he didn't let me leave, I could file a complaint against him with HR. I assured him he would thank me later, and he death glared at me. That was so him.

At the lockers, I took off my stinky clothes from sweat training. I opened my gym bag and took out the denim skirt I had packed. The last time I wore a mini skirt was on my first date with Naoya, a special occasion. “I can't believe I'm going to wear this again,” I thought as I saw how short it was, it barely covered my butt. I had to wear it, this would be a special day too.

2 hours later on a train ride, I arrived at my not so exciting destination. The Golden Pot, a Chinese restaurant on the outskirts of Kyoto, known for having the best wonton soup in town. I never thought I would return to this place. It brought back bittersweet memories of my relationship with Naoya, as I had the best dates of my life with him here. It was amazing how the person I once grew to love more than myself became my #1 enemy.

Naoya has a less troublesome luck ritual than Sukuna. Before every fight, he must eat a bowl of wonton soup to secure his stomach and his victory. He always did this in the evenings after the official weigh-in. When he travels out of the country, he usually eats it before taking the plane. Since he was fighting in Tokyo, I knew he would be at the restaurant. I zipped up my Team Black jacket and walked confidently into the place.

The aroma of ginger and garlic permeated my nose as soon as I walked through the doors. Like any Chinese restaurant, the place was decorated with red lanterns hanging from the ceiling and golden dragons of good fortune among the long tables. The sound of sizzling dishes and the animated murmur of customers enjoying authentic Chinese food crept into my ears as I searched for the stupid blond with my eyes.

I spotted him at the table where he always used to sit. A table in a booth with red cushions and an intimate atmosphere. He was alone and undercover as if he were a spy, wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses despite being indoors. I really didn't want to approach him, but I had to be brave. I had traveled all the way from Tokyo to confront him and put him out of his comfort zone, I couldn't afford to chicken out now.

“Is it good?” I greeted him reluctantly. Naoya looked up from his bowl and took off his glasses to make sure his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. Taking his time to run down my bare legs, getting used to the idea that I was standing before him.

“Well, well… What brings you all the way to Kyoto?” He asked me with a smile.

“Since you came to visit me at the gym and my house, I thought it would be nice to visit you at your favorite place,” I replied as I sat down across from him.

“You are so cute,” he commented before eating a wonton.

A waitress came to our table quickly to take my order. She tried giving me a menu, but I already knew what I was going to order.

“I'm not going to stay long, I'll just have a wonton soup to go and an iced tea for here,” I asked.

“Are you in a hurry?” Naoya asked me, disappointed, once the waitress left.

“A little, I have to go back to Tokyo early to continue training Sukuna,” I answered.

“Do you care about him?” He asked me seriously.

“Of course I do, it's my job.”

“No, I mean, do you really care about him?” He corrected the question.

I frowned in response. It was true that Sukuna was on my mind 80% of the day, but that's because he is my job. I have to make sure he eats well, does the exercises correctly and is in his best mental state before every fight. I have seen him progress in the last four months that I have been training him, and I was proud of my work, but where was he going with that kind of question? Naoya sighed when he didn't get an answer.

“Do you like him?” he asked, confident that he knew the answer already.

“No,” I answered coldly, before he made up weird ideas in his head.

I couldn't imagine jumping from one idiot to another. Sukuna could be an amazing athlete, an extremely attractive man and a good protector, but he was still a traitor, a rude champion and someone who uses women to his advantage. We had grown up together these past few months, but I was not to be confused, he was still Sukuna Ryomen.

“This brings back so many memories. This is where we had our first kiss. We were so young and immature,” Naoya sighed as he imagined the scene.

“We are still young and immature, especially you. You still cling to the past and want to pull me with you,” I mumbled.

“What's wrong with wanting to take back what's mine?” he wondered, annoyed that I had broken his illusion.

“That I am not your property nor Zen’in’s,” I answered.

“We'll see about that tomorrow,” Naoya selfassured.

The waitress arrived with my order carefully wrapped in a plastic bag and the tea in the typical yellowish plastic cup of this kind of restaurant. I smiled as I saw the full glass in front of me, “This is what I came for,” I thought as I took a sip.

“You're right, let’s not argue now,” I thought out loud as I got up from my seat, ready to leave. “We'll see about that tomorrow,” I said with a confident smile.

I poured the iced tea over Naoya's half-eaten wonton soup. His eyes widened at the reckless act I was pulling. I was ruining his good luck ritual before his eyes. I slammed the glass down on the table in front of him to grab his attention back.

“You better not back off,” I threatened him in a low voice so that he was the only one listening to me.

“I hope you too, cutie,” he glared at me, this time he had stopped smiling to restrain himself from hitting a woman in a public place.

I left the place with my food and sighed relieved that the conversation had not escalated any further. I checked the time. It was almost 6 pm, I had to get to the train station if I wanted to make it to the next part of my plan on time.

SUKUNA POV

A sharp pain invaded my neck as I moved my shoulder again. A grunt of pain escaped from my lips as I moved it in circles as Shoko recommended. The hot water from the shower helped dull the pain. I should be embarrassed. I couldn't let such a superficial injury stop me. I had to give my 110% in tomorrow's fight as always. My honor and my title were on the line again. I shouldn't be worried though, no one knows that my shoulder is injured, and I have Y/n, who has been teaching me all of Naoya's moves. My chances of winning were still pretty high.

I let the hot water run over my body some more. I didn't want to get out of the shower, but I had to get ready to greet the prostitute I had hired in advance for tonight's ritual. I wrapped myself in my shower robe and went on to dry my hair, so I would have it ready for tomorrow. I was in my best possible shape, but aesthetics are also important for sponsors.

The doorbell echoed through the penthouse, letting me know that someone was waiting at the door. I frowned at the time. It was barely 8 o'clock, the hooker was supposed to arrive at 9. "Who the fuck is it this late?", I asked myself annoyed. I walked over to the door to see who it was.

It was a rather pleasant surprise to see Y/n through the peephole. She was waiting patiently outside the door with a plastic bag in her hands. I was going to open the door, but I saw her take off the team black gym jacket. My cheeks flushed slightly at the sight of her in something other than workout clothes. She was wearing the shortest denim skirt I had ever seen in my life and a pink shirt that allowed me to see her cleavage thanks to the height difference. I had seen her wear things that revealed her stunning body, but this was the first time I had seen something that made her look like a girl and not like someone who can kick my ass.

She started to lose her patience. She rang the doorbell again, bringing me back to reality. I was a weak man if just looking at her made me blush. “Fuck,” I thought, annoyed with myself, before opening the door.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I scolded her. “Who the fuck gave you my address?”

“What a nice way to greet your coach,” she joked, sarcastically. “Nanami gave me your address. I came all the way from Kyoto to bring you a good luck wonton soup,” she explained as she handed me the plastic bag.

As soon as she moved his jacket from one arm to the other, I noticed something about her outfit that I hadn't seen through the peephole before. It was a detail I shouldn't have minded in the least, but my eyes hyper-fixated on it anyway. The pink rim of her thong protruded above her skirt, gently draped over her hip. The fact that I even noticed it surprised me. I'd seen that on thousands of models at parties, why did it matter to me so much in Y/n? Had she done it on purpose? It was hard to tell, since I only know her in working hours. This was the first time we had met outside the work environment.

“Are you going to let me in?” she wondered.

“Did you really go all the way to Kyoto to bring me a measly wonton soup?” I asked as I inspected the contents. Y/n slapped my arm at the rejection of her gift.

“It's the best soup in the world!” she scolded me, offended. “Also, I went to ruin Naoya's lucky ritual,” she confessed, embarrassed.

“Are you fucking stupid!? That's why you left training early?!” I yelled in annoyance.

“Hey! You should be thankful that I'm taking every precaution to ensure my victory!” she finished off by raising her voice to reach my volume. She always has a stupid answer for everything.

“Your victory…” I tasted the phrase in my mouth. “Are you only doing this just for yourself?”

“My victory is that you remain as the champion,” she clarified.

“Well, you did what you had to do,” I told her, ready to close the door.

“You didn't answer the question I asked you earlier,” she reminded me, it was as if she didn't want the conversation to end.

“What are you talking about?” As soon as I blurted out the question, she blushed and avoided my gaze.

“Do you already have someone for your lucky ritual?” She asked, still avoiding my gaze.

“Yes, she's coming in an hour. You can go home now,” I said, tired of explaining myself to her. I tried to close the door, but she pulled her body into the penthouse to avoid it.

“Are you sure she will satisfy you?” She asked me, almost desperate.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” I yelled, opening the door again. “You've been so weird since we made the strategy! Is there something you want to tell me?”

“I just want to make sure that your ritual goes well…” she whispered in embarrassment. That sounded like a damn lie.

“Y/n!” I scolded her. She was startled by the scream and then sighed in surrender.

She told me all about her history with Naoya in a low voice. From how they met to how he continues to stalk her to this day. She told me how she came to his house out of nowhere and betted on her freedom to get rid of him once and for all. “Are you such a dumb bitch?! How could you even think of doing that!” are things I wanted to scream at her until her ears bled from her stupidity, but I couldn't do it seeing her so emotionally drained. No wonder she was so desperate, this was the only way she had to be able to get rid of him. What a mess she was in.

“Help me out, Sukuna.” Her eyes begged me for mercy, I couldn't say “no” to that.

“Come in, it better be as good as in Dubai,” I threatened her as soon as I let her in.

“I will do my best,” she promised.

Despite being shorter than me by a head and looking so tender in that outfit that left almost nothing to the imagination, this little shit pushed me against the bed with all her might. In my own house! She had already seen me naked and knew how I behaved during sex. So it was easy for her to undo the knot of my shower gown and unwrap me as if my hard cock was her birthday gift. She didn't hesitate to take it all the way into her mouth. Each suck and lick felt desperate. I knew she wanted to make me come, so she could secure tomorrow's victory, but sometimes the idea of her being really desperate to have my cock inside her for lustful pleasure tickled my brain.

“You really want to impress me, don't you?” I asked her as I took off my robe completely.

I pushed her towards my crotch, hugging her by the shoulders with my leg to show her how flexible I had become since she had taught me floor techniques. The splashes coming from her wet lips, her eyes watering from having my monstrosity in her little mouth and her hands holding my thighs to keep her balance were a sublime image. I could come just seeing her in that state.

I pulled her to me with one tug to do what I had wanted to do to her since I saw her through the peephole. I ripped off her thin pink shirt to reveal the pink lace bra that matched her thong. “She came prepared,” I thought with a satisfied smile. I usually like to remove the bra because it gets in the way, but I decided to leave this one on because it was cute. The little flowers looked so pretty over her beautiful breasts. I yanked down her skirt and reached into her slutty cave. She clung to my body as she moaned my name as praise. My fingertips rubbed her sensitive clit as they bathed in the natural lube. Y/n struggled against her own body to maintain her composure.

She took possession of my body as soon as she climbed into my lap. I thought the fun was finally going to begin, but she decided to keep playing with my senses. She took possession of my cock to rub the tip against her clit in slow circles. I bit my lower lip to keep from moaning like a bitch in heat.

“Don't be shy, I want to hear you,” she asked before gently twisting my nipple.

My eyes popped open as I felt her fingers against my sensitive spots. I think it's the first time I've ever been touched like that. She smiled as she realized the same thing I did. She approached me slowly to kiss my nipples gently. We had only slept together once, and she already knew my body better than I did. Oh Naoya, he really fumbled the bag. Poor bastard. She flicked her tongue and gently sucked on my erect nipples from the cold of the night. I closed my eyes to enjoy the tickling that ran mercilessly through my body as I moaned for her.

“How cute. Your cheeks match your hair and my underwear,” she whispered in my ear as she saw the blush that covered my face.

She shoved my cock in her all at once, bringing back memories of Dubai. This time, my back was no longer suffering from being pushed against a small wooden table. She rode my cock like a pro, making sure the tip had the biggest impact point. Her breasts bounced in my face, her moans were music to my ears and her hips were moving to the beat of a forbidden song. I wrapped my arms around her waist to hold her close to me and made sure my cock went all the way into her cervix.

She kissed me passionately without ceasing to impact her hips against me. It was wild, rushed, and powerful. She pressed my body against hers like a snake mercilessly choking its prey. I had no intention of fighting her, I could die in between her thighs and I would be so fucking happy.

I wasn't going to last any longer if we kept going like this. My mind kept repeating the national anthem to last longer in heaven, but it wasn't working. Y/n knew what she was doing, and she was doing a great fucking job. My cock was high and wet in her pussy, I wanted more, I needed more of her. My hips were moving on automatic to penetrate her fully. Her tits bouncing in my face was the best sight I have ever witnessed in my life. Y/n felt so tight and delicious, I was about to explode. Before I could help it, I came in her. My cock was slowly pumping her full.

“Are you done?” She smirked.

“Shut up,” I sighed tiredly. She pulled away from me to go to the bathroom to clean herself. I grabbed her arm and pulled her back to the bed. “I'm not done with you yet.”

”Huh?” She asked, confused.

“I may be satisfied, but you're not,” I told her before spreading her legs apart.

I wasn't used to eating pussy from hookers, they just made me cum and left, but seeing my coach's face all flushed and surprised made my night. She really didn't expect me to go deep into her body to finish what I had started. I dipped my head into her crotch to part her lips with my tongue. She stifled a moan and closed her legs at the tickle that ran down her back. Her thighs pressed against my face, drowning me in her delicious pussy. Y/n arched her back to bring her clit closer to my nose and thrust my tongue deeper inside her.

It was sour and sweet at the same time. I didn’t like the taste much, but I was a fan of the texture. I looked like a fucking junkie once I got used to the slimy sensation on my tongue. She pulled me by the hair to suck on her clit. I opened my mouth wide to eat the food God blessed me tonight. Y/n looked like a hot mess and I loved it. She moaned, writhed and called my name with lust.

“Just like that!” she moaned as she pushed my face, a sign that I was doing a good job.

I kept doing exactly what she asked until she squirted on my face. I jerked away confused as to what had happened. I wiped my face to see Y/n lying there like a happy starfish, arms, and legs spread across the bed tired.

“Good job,” She moaned in satisfaction with her eyes closed.

I was going to answer, but the doorbell grabbed my attention. It must be the prostitute. I wrapped my robe around me again and grabbed my wallet from the nightstand. I didn't want to waste time with her, I wanted to go to sleep soon so I could be well rested for the fight. I opened the door to find a blonde girl who reminded me of a bitch I know.

“Hi, handsome. It's nice to meet you, I always see you on the sports channel and…”

“Look, thanks for coming, but let's cancel. Someone already emptied my balls. Take 100 dollars and leave,” I said, throwing the bill at her and slamming the door in her face.

I went back to the room only to find y/n completely asleep under the covers. She looked exhausted, I shouldn't wake her up. I sat next to her on the bed and sighed tiredly. My horniness was decreasing, and I questioned whether I should let her sleep or ask her to go home. I looked at her again. She looked very comfortable and content tucked into me in the wet covers from our fluids.

“Looks like I'll be sleeping in the guest room,” I thought out loud.

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