#he thinks the most out of pocket shit i swear

[seizethegay420]

[marvellous1917]

Icarus

(Part 1)

Pairing: mob!Bucky x tattoo artist!reader

Summary: you come home from work, only to find a mob boss in your house looking for your roommate.

Warnings: mentions of a gun, mentions of arms and drug trafficking, murder, kidnapping, torture, swearing, tattoos, gambling, think that’s it

A/n: I’m a simple girl. Mob!Bucky makes my brain go whurrrrrr. This is pure self service because I have this tattoo lol. Been along time guys what’s up?

————

“Late night?” The deep voice came from the dark.

“Holy-” fear spiked through your heart from the unfamiliar sound, your arms dropping the bags and your back crashing into the closed front door, “-who.. who are you?” You asked the unfamiliar voice. Turning slightly you see the long haired, leather covered man sat in the dining room. His left arm rested on the table, the prosthetic shining, the light from the street lamp outside shining through the window. His face was half shrouded in darkness, the other half showed his eyes, a little confused but also amused.

“You’re not Caleb.” He replied, sitting back in the chair, tilting his head to the side and moving something that looked suspiciously pistol shaped off of the table and into the inside pocket of his jacket, you reached up and flipped on the light.

“N-no no, I’m not. I’m his roommate.” You said, finally registering who you were talking to. The now fully visible metal arm was a pretty big giveaway, if nothing else. ‘There is a mob boss sat in my kitchen, what the fuck’.

“What do you want with Caleb? Does he owe you something?” The thought was out of your mouth before you could stop it. “Oh god no sorry forget I asked. Sorry... sir? I don’t-”

“I’m assuming from that reaction you know who I am,” He said, smirk on his face as he stood and moved closer, your back pressing flatter against the wall beside the door with every step he took.

“Of..of course I do, everyone in New York knows who you are..Sir” You replied.

“Hmm, I’m gonna take that as a compliment doll,”

“It is! Sorry! Congrats on all the… mafia shit.” Did I just say ‘mafia shit’ to a gangster.

The silence is awkward, his face blank and all you can think is ‘Oh my god I’m gonna die.’ His face twists into a …smile.. you think, y’know its hard to tell, fear has your vision all fuzzy.

He then starts to..laugh. He’s laughing? He’s actually laughing.

“Is this something you do before you kill people? You laugh, give them a false sense of security then shoot them?” You ramble quietly, confused at what’s happening.

He moved his left hand to rest on his stomach, the metal catching the light, shining right in you eye and it fully registered that, holy shit, James fucking Barnes, The Winter goddamn Soldier is in my house. This man is literally wanted by every law enforcement agent in the country, he’s in control of one of the most ruthless organisations in the world, they traffic arms and drugs and gun down anyone that gets in the way. Apparently, at least that’s what the news said. The stories about him though, way more upsetting.

The rumor was that after he left the special forces, he was captured by an organisation that wanted him to work for them. When he tried to escape the first time, they took his arm, and he was stuck working for them for a decade. The story goes that after he finally escaped, he tracked down everyone that was a part of it and killed them all, by himself. Alone. Just him. On his own. Then he took over their supply and demand and built his empire from the ground up.

“Oh god.. ‘congrats on all the mafia shit’, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a while…” he pushed out while chuckling. “I’m gonna get that shit tattooed, I swear,” he said.

“I could do that for you,” it was out of your mouth before you could stop it. ‘Oh my god, shut up Y/N’ you thought to yourself.

“What?” He asked, eyes flitting over to yours, his piercing stare causing all sorts of feeling to rise inside your chest; fear, confusion, attraction. Attraction? What? Damn him and his pretty face. He’s a killer Y/N, remember that?

“Nothing, sorry” you answered, looking down at your feet.

“No what did you say Y/n?” He asked again, his voice more stern than before. If you weren’t so scared, you would have questioned how he knew your name.

“I said that I could give you that tattoo, sorry, just slipped out” you replied, unsure what his response would be to your completely unnecessary comment.

“Stop apologising would’ya doll, there’s no need.” He said, sort of sweetly, a small comforting smile on his face, the pet name causing all sorts of lovely feelings inside.

“Sor.. yes Sir,” you corrected yourself.

“And stop calling me Sir darlin, only my employees call me that,” he said, “well my employees and some others..” he said with a dirty smirk, causing your eyebrows to raise sky high.

“Sorry Sir,” you said quickly, not even thinking. “…shit.”

“Seriously doll, you don’t need to be so scared of me,” he stated, his right hand reaching out and landing on your shoulder, your muscles tensing for a second then relaxing when you saw the look in his eye, he was telling the truth

“Ok.. then can I ask why you are here?” You ask, some fear creeping it’s way into your voice despite his reassurance. He kept his face carefully still and he looked you up and down, the feeling of being examined was strong, like he was trying to decide if you were worthy of knowing his business.

“You got it right earlier, your roommate owes me something, and I came to get it from him,” he removes his hand from your arm as he spoke after a tense silence. He was being purposely vague, trying to gage your reaction, to see if you were really clueless or you were playing with him.

“It’s money right, I mean it has to be, what else could he owe you. I told him to stop freaking borrowing money I swear I tried to stop him, but he never listened to me..l”

“You’re rambling darlin, you realise that?” He cuts you off with a smirk on his face.

“I’ve been told I do that when I’m nervous. I don’t know how much Caleb owes you and I don’t know what the situation is but.. if you.. I mean..”

“What doll? What are you trying to say. I won’t be mad, I swear,” Barnes responds, one side of his lips tugging upwards at your mumbling.

“Could you give him some more time?”

He was not expecting that. ‘Brave little thing’ he thought.

“I mean I don’t know how long he’s owed you for but he’s getting back on track I swear, he’s getting better, he is, in-fact he’s at a gamblers anonymous meeting right now, and he has a job interview tomorrow so he can pay rent and pay back people he owes money to.” You rush out, trying to help your friend, “Of course he never told me that he owes money to a mobster but that besides the point” you add quieter, more to yourself than anything but Barnes still heard it. He chuckled and ran his flesh hand through his hair, pushing back the long strands out of his face.

“He does owe money to a mobster, quite a lot in fact so I’m gonna have to say no to that request darlin, I’ve given him long enough.” He responds, his tone dripping with authority, the Brooklyn drawl on the pet name he threw out made your heart beat faster.

“Please. Please just think about it Sir.. uh Mr Barnes.. Sir. Caleb’s had a rough go of it lately, he lost his father not too long ago and he’s been a mess ever since, if you could just give..”

“I already said no once doll, I don’t like repeating myself.” His tone was final, and even though his words were not that intense, the threat in his voice hung in the air like poison gas before slamming into your chest, the fear that had previously been quelled came racing back, sitting on your shoulders like a lead coat.

The silence stayed for longer this time, you eyes firmly fixed to the floor to a sound even the possibility of upsetting the man that had broken into your home.

“So you’re a tattoo artist huh? He asked, his low voice calming you some. Huh he’s trying to make me less afraid of him, what kind of ruthless criminal is he?

“Yes..um I am,” you answer, incredibly aware of the position you were in, better to go along with whatever he did.

“You got a flash book?” He questioned, genuinely interested.

“Uh yeah I do.” You reply awkwardly, not sure where this new line of conversation was coming from.

“Can I see it?”

“…sure,” the word came out as a question.

He nodded at you, and you took it as a sign that you were good to move. Turning slowly and moving away from the wall to your bag on the floor, you reach down and grab your flash sketchbook and hand it to him.

“Are all of these available?” He asked, flipping through the pages, taking in each design.

Seeing him like this, calmly looking through the sketchbook makes it very easy to forget who he was, a ruthless calculating Mob Boss, wanted for almost every crime under the sun.

“The ones with the X’s over them have been done before but could be repeated if someone really wanted it,” you answered, slightly more confident in yourself as you were talking about something you loved.

“This is Latin, right, what does it mean?” He asked, moving to stand next to you pointing to a design in the book, an alien inside a bottle of wine.

“‘In Vino Veritas’, it means ‘In wine, there is truth’” you say, “ I though it was funny, y’know.. ‘the truth is out there’..aliens..” you trailed off, not sure how to explain that design

He let out an quiet amused sound, his shoulder brushing yours, sending a trail of chills down your spine.

“This one is beautiful,” he said, pointing to a different design on the next page.

“Thank you, it’s Icarus, I have it tattooed on me, it was hard as hell doing it on my own leg,” you say, proud of the design you created.

“Icarus, what’s his story? I can’t quite remember, ” he asks.

“It’s a Greek myth y’know, Icarus and his father were held captive by King Minos in a tower, his father created wax wings so they could fly away from their captors. The father warned Icarus from flying too high or too low, but he ignored his fathers warnings and flew too close to the sun and his wings melted. It’s a moral story to warn against the dangers of complacency and hubris, but to me it’s just a tragedy.” You say, turning to face him, making eye contact with the man. He listened intently to the story, his face unreadable but you thought you saw a flash of something in his eyes, maybe he related to the myth, a man that was once held captive, now with everything in his hands, in danger of losing it all if he flew too close to the sun himself.

“A tragedy huh? I don’t think there’s anything tragic about it. He was warned not to do something dangerous and he went and did it anyway, it’s his own damn fault,” he stated, something slightly argumentative in his tone.

He looked straight at you while speaking and you couldn’t help but feel as if he was looking into your soul, like his statement was some kind of test.

“I agree with the idea that he got what he deserved, but I meant it as a tragedy for his father. Creating something so pure for you and your child to escape from captivity, only for your child to ignore your warnings and pay the ultimate price for it. His father probably spent the rest of his life regretting escaping his prison because that was the action that ultimately lead to his sons death. It’s heartbreaking if you see it from a different perspective,” you say back, not really expecting him to engage you in a philosophical debate.

“Hmm.. that’s an interesting way to see it, I’m not really one for looking at different perspectives, mine suits me just fine,” he answered, the fact that this man was dangerous came screaming back to you with the look on his face, blank like he was devout of all emotion at that moment. You got the feeling he wasn’t speaking metaphorically anymore.

The tension was palpable, you not knowing what to say next and him deciding he was done talking for the time being. He placed the book down on a side table, and turned back to you. “Y’know what, I want it.” He said, confusing flooding your brain.

“Want what?” You ask calmly, not wanting to push your luck with the man.

“That tattoo, the Icarus one, I want it.” He answers, leaning back against the side of the table he was sat at earlier. His crossed his arms, which should have been intimidating, but for some reason the only thought floating through your head was Damn his arms are bigger than my head. Gimmie.

“You want the Icarus?” You ask, somewhat stupidly and he had just said that.

“Yes I do,” he answered simply, “Are you free tomorrow?” He asks, smile on his face.

“Umm not really, I have a few appointments tomo..”

“Move them, hell cancel them. Block out a spot long enough for me to get this tattoo.” He states, cutting of your sentence.

“I can’t do that, it’s too short notice and I could loose..”

“I’ll pay what ever you lose for cancelling the appointments. I’m getting this done, tomorrow.” He cuts you off again, a finality in his tone that warns you it would be pointless and probably rather stupid to argue.

“Uh..ok” you respond, shaking your head a little, still trying to figure out what just happened.

“Great.” He clapped his hands together and the sound made you jump. Barnes either didn’t notice it or just didn’t care. “Give me your phone.”

“Huh? Why do you want my phone?” You question.

Barnes just rolled his eyes, walked forward until he was stood right infront of you, toe to toe, staring down at you with a semi amused look on his face.

“How am I supposed to find out where your shop is if you don’t text me the location?” He said sarcastically.

Literally a million different ways, google it for starters, get one of your goons to find it, stalk me and follow me there.. c’mon man think. Obviously you kept these thoughts to yourself but Barnes smirked as if he could hear them anyway. Pulling out your phone and handing it to him you ask, “What time do you want to come in for?”

“Around 1-ish doll, that ok?” He asked, knowing that it is, as he’s already told you to move/cancel your other appointments.

“That’s fine by me Bar..Mr Barnes” you answer, slipping up, almost forgetting the level of respect you should probably show to the gangster in your home.

He calls his phone from yours, adding the new number to contacts in both phones, “there, now you can let me know the address of your shop.”

“I’ll sent it to you tomorrow.. unless you want me to send it now?” You asked he hands your phone back , uncertain of what he wanted

“Tomorrows fine” he answers, walking backwards towards the front door, “I’ll see ya in the afternoon doll,” he says while opening the door and mostly leaving until he pauses completely, slowly turning back towards you.

This is it, he’s been messing with me this whole time and now he’s going to shoot me.

“Tell Caleb he has 6 weeks to get my money back to me or I’ll be paying him another visit, ok doll.” He says, no question in his voice. He waits until you answer with a “Yes, Mr Barnes,” and disappears into the hallway outside your apartment.

It takes about 5 minutes for the shock to fully wear off, and it causes you to stagger over to the couch, fall backwards onto it an ask into the empty room, “What the actual fuck just happened?”

As soon as the question was out of your mouth , your phone buzzed in your hand.

James:

Don’t ever call me Mr Barnes again Y/n.

It makes me feel ancient.

I hate that.

[sant-riley]

[Random Task force 141 × gen z! member headcanons]

A/N: Reader goes by the codename Teddy in my writing! Along with she/her pronouns :) I am also extremely biased with Ghost so her main pairing is more towards with him compared to the others <3. I know absolutely nothing about the military so this is not accurate I am so sorry💀.

CWs: Dark Humor, Age gaps, Simping, crude humor, cursing. (not sure what else but lmk!)

Chances are, you're the youngest in the entirety of Task Force 141. Just a good couple of years younger than Gaz.

When Laswell brought her in to meet the group, they couldn't help but stare at her in confusion. A tiny girl who couldn't have been older than any of them. Soap couldn't help but chuckle while Ghost nudged him in the side to shut him up.

"This is your new rookie on the team, her callsign is Teddy. Treat her well."

All the men nodded, watching the younger woman shyly smile and wave towards them.

First they realized that her humor was, in Ghost's words, fucked.

Any minor inconvenience had her saying she wanted to be hit by a car or some type of bodily harm, Price quickly whirling around with eyes widened. "Now, I don't think that warranted that kind of response, don't you think?" "Oh it definitely did, Captain." And she'd walk away without another word.

He swears he gets gray hairs from everytime you make casual talk of you dying. He actively tells the others to check on you bc he genuinely don't know if you're serious or not.

Ghost is not up to date with shit, man uses no social medias oncesoever so everything she spouts is wildly out of pocket. References to basic things like tiktok, Twitter, Instagram? He just silently stares at you like you're on drugs. You can't really use your personal phone on base but you try your best to explain memes to him. He sighs and rubs his forehead with a groan of "I'm too old for this shit, teds." "Oh come on! You have to at LEAST know the meme about the marines eating crayons!" "What the fuck are you on about?

The only ones who know vaguely what the fuck you're on about sometimes are Gaz and Soap, despite them still being a few years older.

Granted, they are not caught up with everything but they actively make it a point on leave to try and be up to date bc of you and your mannerisms. Plus it makes you happy when they fire back a quote they learned.

Can yall imagine Soap on tiktok, what random shit he'd have on his fyp bc he doesn't know how the algorithm works 😭.

Teddy has made every single one of them a personal playlist when she does have her phone, Soap once caught her adding songs and hasn't stopped teasing her since. Price and Ghost pretend not to care and barks at Soap to leave her alone but they're equally curious. Ghost contemplates stealing her phone to see it.

Doesn't matter how serious or dark their job may be, you simp for fictional characters, loudly. Price has learned to tune it out, Ghost although slightly jealous, finds it endearing, Gaz and Soap indulge you and will actively ask about why you like the characters you do and how much you love them bc they like to see you excited. It's a nice feeling when they're always in life or death missions.

You're the smallest one in here okay, everyone can easily throw you without batting an eye so they all take turns training you! They all despite knowing you can take care of yourself, would still like to teach you all they know so should you come against a taller/stronger opponent, you'll be okay.

You are the most protected person in the entire squad, esp when going out for drinks, Ghost will put you in the middle between him and Price and basically make a wall of muscle around you. He says he doesn't care and that he just doesn't want to be pestered by creepy people coming up to you but he will literally stare down any man or woman who even tries. He is the creepy one in everyone else's scenario. Soap just laughs and tosses back his drink.

They all notice your ticks and tells, seeing your leg start to shake when you're anxious, when you start cracking your fingers when you're restless, how you will avoid eye contact at any cost. They start to find ways to soothe you in their own ways. Price will give you a pat on your shoulder, sending you a smile.

Gaz nudges you with his body to take your attention off the situation, or he'll simply start asking you random dumbass questions just to see your face change.

Soap will, if he has gotten permission before, just pick you up and throw you over his shoulder, running around with you while you scream for him to let you go. Is also not against tickling you straight up to get you to smile.

Ghost tried to be as subtle as he can be. If yall are sitting close to each other, he'll make sure some part of his body is gently pressed against yours. Whether it be his foot, thigh, hand, some part of him will ground you. You try and reassure him that you know he doesn't care for personal touch but he just says to shut up.

Meeting Graves was a trip, for everyone involved besides you and Grave. Absolutely having no control over calling him a irl Fix it Felix. You were on Graves shitlist and honestly you wouldn't be surprised he betrayed yall for that one comment bc of how angry it made him.

Constantly being told to be quiet, but you cannot help it and will make little quips over comms. Ghost takes after you and starts to say horrible "dad" jokes that make you choke trying to hold back. Soap hates both of you and calls you unfunny.

They realize you're impulsive, especially when you show the amount of tattoos you have.

"I joined the military to fund my tattoo addiction." "You know what? That's not even a surprise."

Going home on leave is always a bitter experience, you never look excited to go home. So one of the guys (usually ghost) will offer you to come with them. It helps 3/4 all live somewhere in England so it's easy to see them/ take trips to their place.

They're all attached despite knowing better. They can't help it and they know they care for you so much more than other force members.

Ghost and Soap bristle when Alejandro makes a mention that he'd offer you a spot in his team, impressed with how you can take opponents twice your size.

"¿Te interesaría quedarte en México?"

"The Hell she will."

-

If you'd like to be tagged in future works, please comment under my rules that are pinned to my blog!

[hyewka]

please, noona | c.sb

summary; your brother forbids you from talking to any of his friends when they come over. in his words, you'd seduce them and take away their 'innocence' as if you were a witch in hunt for dick every second of the day. he's especially strict about soobin, his similarly nerdy best friend that comes over every other day to play games.

which sucks because that meant you had to be stuck in your room very often...until beomgyu finally leaves to quickly buy some snacks.

warnings; perv!soobin, titty sucking, soobin's sorta a himbo, noona kink, big useless dick, dry humping (is it a hyewka fic without dry humping???) soobins obsessed with tits, creampie, mentions of a breeding kink, soobin cums a lot, use of pet names, and of course sub!soobin + brief appearance of ex!yeonjun

You never understood why you had to be the one locking yourself in a room as if you weren't the one paying rent, and out of the kindness of your heart, let your hobo brother freeload off you. He should've been the one staying in his room instead of hogging the living room with his loser friends, but alas, you took the the role of the older sister, and let the boy do his shenanigans (for as long as your patience can handle, which you now think won't be very long).

Today was one of those days where you got comfortable on your couch, every limb of your body relaxing, in your pajamas that consisted of a lousy tank top and shorts. You don’t get these days often, most of your time spent wearing ugly work pantsuits. But of course, the comfort doesn’t last long—all of a sudden, Beomgyu's yelling for you to go to your room because someone's coming over. Again.

You’re about to take your stance, because fuck that, but he pulls you up like the little bitch he is and pushes you into a room, shutting the door before you could say another word.

"Fuck you Beomgyu! I swear to fucking god I'll kick your ass to the curbs tomorrow!" you yell at the closed door.

"No you wouldn't!" he yells back, and you raise a trembling fist in the air as if he could see, gritting your teeth, but drop it when you realize the little damned troll was right. You wouldn't go through with your promise any time soon, let alone tomorrow— you coddled your little brother too much.

When you defeatedly turn around, you immediately notice he put you in the wrong room, which pisses you off more. His room. The place was gross, clothes you're sure haven't been washed in ages discarded all around the room. Mostly on the floor.

You tiptoe to the bed, trying to avoid as much of the dirty underwear and socks, hesitantly sitting on his bed as if it was infested with bugs. Which was likely.

What you usually spend your time doing at times like these is a mindless scroll through your social media, effectively ignoring the unread messages. But when you pat around for a feel of your phone, you find your pockets are empty. You throw your head back, groaning. You left it on the couch because of how haste Beomgyu was being.

Sometimes a nap would do when he took too long to call it a day with his friends. This time, you almost fall asleep staring at the poster on the ceiling, until you figure out the voices that transcended through your walls. It was only Beomgyu and Soobin today, which meant that this might take the entire day.

Fucking great.

"It's down the street, I think." you open a shut eye, eavesdropping in what your brother was saying. Were they finally leaving? "Wait, hold on, I'll come back."

It's silent until suddenly, the door's pushed open, Beomgyu poking his head in. His brows are furrowed, one of confusion, "Why're you in my room?" You want to yell he pushed you into his shit bedroom but he shakes his head quickly, cutting off your incoming scolding,  like he was in a hurry. "Ya noona, that local convenience store's still open right?"

You roll your eyes. "Lotte mart? That's not local."

He deadpans. One thing about younger siblings was that they are impatient little shits. "Yeah, it's still open." you reply.

Not even a thanks, and he's gone. Which you expected— the exact reason you lied. They closed the location a few weeks back. He'd have to walk to the other closest convenience store, which was at least an hour away.

Serves him right.

The moment you hear the door closing shut, you get up from the bed, immediately heading out of the suffocating bedroom, and head to the living room to retrieve your phone. You don’t expect to see Soobin still there, focused on his phone—assuming he was going to head out with Beomgyu.

He senses someone’s here, so curiously he looks up and meets your eyes, then his widen like he’s been caught doing something wrong.

“H-hi noona.” he quips.

You wave, giving him a quick smile– you definitely found him adorable …but you weren’t in the mood to get scolded by Beomgyu for talking to the boy. So you keep it short, walking to get your phone which rested on the arm rest to the right of Soobin.

“Hey Soobin. Just here to get my phone.”

He tucks his chin in at the proximity when you reach over him to grab your phone—you can even hear him gulp. Probably because your tits were hanging right in front of him. You give him a quick glance, tilting your head after you successfully retrieve your phone in hand.

Unfortunately, he was adamant on keeping his eyes on the TV screen, which had a game paused, so he practically stared into nothingness. You wish you had guys as cute as Soobin when you were attending college. Instead you were stuck with cocky frat boys who expected a fuck after getting you a shitty drink.

“You’re leaving?”

You halt before looking over your shoulder, “Yeah, taking a nap.”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah…um, goodnight—I mean, have a good sleep, or sorry, have a good nap.”

You break into a grin, nodding at the boy. What a loss that he just had to be friends with Beomgyu.

Your legs still midway into the narrow hallway.

You don't have to lock yourself in your room. Beomgyu was gone. In fact, he'll be gone for the next three hours and that wasn’t in account of his turtle-like pace, if your estimation was correct.

You’re a data analyst for a living, of course your estimation’s correct.

So, you go back, trace your steps, and make yourself comfortable. On your own couch, in your own apartment. It’s ridiculous how rare you got the chance to do just that.

Soobin doesn’t ask questions, but he does end up straightening his posture the moment you plop down next to him. “Can you pass me the remote?” You gesture towards it with your chin.

He nods, quickly getting it for you. You hesitantly take it from him, feeling bad. Poor boy, it’s like you were making him uncomfortable with your presence. So you give him a break, scooting away, making the gap between you both awkwardly big.

“You don’t mind me watching, right?” you look at his face for a response. You could totally drop your show if he didn’t want to sit through it– you wanted to give him the option. Though to be fair, knowing Soobin as much as you did (which was admittedly limited, but he was easy to read), you’re sure he’d let you watch even if he did mind.

Which is exactly what happens as he shakes his head, “No, no, it’s okay.” You peer at him before shrugging and opening Netflix.

Unfortunately, as much as you try your best to focus on the drama, Soobin’s polite posture and silence bothers you. Usually, whenever the rare occasion of bumping into Beomgyu’s friends in the hallway happens, they try to strike up a conversation. But Soobin was rather…modest. Too modest.

You pause the show.

“Soobin.” With his name called, he immediately looks over at you. “You know you can talk to me right? I'm not the evil witch my brother paints me as, I promise.”

His eyes are wide, waving his hand in denial, still as formal as ever. “No, it’s—it’s not like that Noona! I know. I know I can talk to you, I mean. Beomgyu tells me you’re nice.” You tilt your head– you doubt that was true.

But you don’t bother. “Oh. Okay, great!” you pull up your legs on the couch, turning your full body to face him. “So, tell me Soobin, are you an introvert?”

He seems startled, like he didn’t expect you to actually start a conversation but it doesn’t last long as he nods meekly. “Y-yeah, sort of.”

“Mm, makes sense. You don’t really make eye contact when talking.” The moment the realization hits Soobin, you huff out a laugh at how fast he turns his head to look at you, his ears noticeably red.

“S-sorry Noona.”

You click your tongue, a little disappointed at how he was still so formal with you. “You don’t have to be so formal, you know? I’m only like, three years older than you.” It takes him a few seconds before he nods, though you could tell by the appearance of a dimple, that he wasn’t going to let the formal language go.

Oh well. You’ll work with it. “So, Soobin. Question. How come you’re a completely different person when playing games? You’re loud, but when in a conversation, your voice is as soft as it can be humanely hearable.”

He’s noticeably embarrassed as his face flushes. “You–you heard me?”

You chuckle, “It’s a little hard not to.”

Soobin isn’t louder than Beomgyu, but was very darn close. Which is a feat considering someone two floors above you came over to complain about Beomgyu once.

“I’m sorry, I–I don’t mean to. I’ll be careful next time.”

You furrow your brows, before lightly slapping his shoulder. “Hey, stop apologizing. I’m just joking around, I really don’t mind. Sort of already used to it.”

“Still—”

You shake your head, cutting him off. “Let’s talk about something else. Um…oh! Do you have a girlfriend?” you teasingly drawl the girlfriend bit like a middle school boy, in attempt of making him a tinge more comfortable.

He’s meek again, biting the inside of his cheeks before he lets out a quiet no.

You gasp at the revelation, a hand shooting up over your mouth. “But you’re so handsome! How come?”

You definitely played it up a bit— you weren’t that shocked that he wasn’t dating considering how often he came over and how long he stayed.

He gets flustered once more, and finally, a small smile appears. “I don’t know. Probably because I’m horrible at flirting. And probably not that handsome.”

You pout, “Not that handsome? ’M being completely honest, I think you’re the cutest guy I’ve seen in a while.”

He flushes, playing with his hands. “Yeah... cute not handsome”

You got closer to him somehow so you’re able to give him a light nudge. “Handsome too idiot.”

He smiles, looking at you with so much adoration you could just pinch his cute cheeks.

The entire time you spend talking to him felt a little more chill, his posture relaxing along with the flow of conversation being a little more natural— though you still carried it most of the time.

You found out he liked a number of things. Anime, manga, collecting figures, obviously gaming. All things you usually assumed to be a little nerdy, but it was cute how he lit up talking about his favorites regardless. You find out he’s majoring in chem too, which you would have never guessed.

You also find out Soobin might just be the most obvious peeker; truly terrible at being discreet.

You really had a hard time not laughing every time you caught his eyes so obviously looking down at your cleavage, which you forgot was so revealing through the tank top you wore. More than once does he subconsciously wet his lips before he tries to pretend like he was listening to you talk.

You understand why Soobin was friends with Beomgyu rather quickly. Most of Beomgyu’s friends were greasy pervert losers. Soobin not any different, you figured. Except it was cute on him.

"Beomgyu said you had a boyfriend.” he mumbles, the longest eye contact he’s held with you the entire time you’ve been talking to him.

You tilt your head. "…I don't? I haven't dated anyone since Yeonjun." at his silence, you figure he's not one of your girlfriends who knew the ins and outs of your dating history, "Which was four months ago."

His lips form an O shape, nodding slowly.

"Did you ask him? Why? Were you curious?" you tease, and enjoy the way Soobin stumbles on his words, cheeks quickly running hot. "N-no, he just told me."

You hum knowingly. Before you know it, you ramble about another topic but like the shameless boy he is, you catch how his eyes trail down again. This time, you decide to end it, it’s clear he wanted something so you clear your throat. The conversation was slowly dying anyway.

His eyes snap back up almost immediately, cheeks still a bright shade of pink. “Um s-so…”

“I was talking about my favorite boba place just now.” His iris panics before he chuckles nervously, “Y-yeah. That.”

You smile looking down at his hands and take a notice of how big they are. Your finger trails to one, fingertip running circles on his palm.

He’s startled by the sudden contact, but doesn't pull away immediately. “Girls at school would probably ruin that pretty face of yours if they caught you staring at their tits so openly.”

His eyes shoot wide open, pulling his hands from you like you just poured boiling water on it. “I wasn't–”

You cut him off. “I should've counted but it was probably a hundred times I've seen you look, pervert.”

His face is so red, he truly looked like a tomato. You also catch the glistening of his waterline, his lower lip quivering. “I'm sorry Noona please don't be mad I—“

“Good thing I'm not a girl from school, huh?" You're quick to stop his rambling, not in the mood to be the cause of someone's tears. "Do you want to see them?”

His brows perk up almost immediately, the crease of his forehead apparent, doe eyes looking at you so intently.

“My tits. Wanna see them?”

He nods profusely before he shoots up a hand over his mouth. “Oh my god, was that a trick question? I’m sorry—”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Adorable.” you coo, booping his nose. He frowns at that.

"I'm not a kid noona, you always—" he cuts himself off when you grip the hem of your tank top, pulling them over your bare breasts swiftly, showing them to the younger boy. You relish in his reaction, ends of your lips twitching up at the way his mouth falls open, licking them as he openly stares.

God, he was such a pervert.

“Can I...can i—" his words fall dry.

“You wanna touch?”

“Please noona.”

You shrug. He scoots closer, cold hand hesitant on your breasts, sending goosebumps on your skin with the touch. “Soobin, its okay, you can touch them”

He prepares both hands above your breasts before finally holding them. He feels by a few squeezes and then he starts playing, fondling like he's never seen a pair before.

His breathing gets heavier the rougher he squeezes, and especially when his thumb glazes over your nipple, which is the confirmation you got.

He was a total loser.

You hold his wrist, getting Soobin to stop, snapping him out of his thoughts, and he slowly pulls away, wiping the slight drool on the corner of his lips. “Was I too rough—?”

"A little, but I don't mind." You get on him, straddling his lap. Soobins big eyes look up at you, gulping at the possibility that you'll let him do what he thinks you'll let him do.

You feel the bulge between your legs and laugh. "You got hard from touching me? Big baby."

He frowns, "I'm not a baby."

"Oh really?" You grab the back of his head, and shove his face between your chest. Sure enough, Soobin's mouth already latches onto one of your nipples, starting to suck. "See? You're such a filthy pervert, already sucking the moment I give you the chance."

He's stupid enough to muffle out a thank you as if letting him suck was like handing him water at deserted desert. Your shirt is over his head as his face was buried in between your chest, spit already all over it— he was incredibly messy. A bead of sweat breaks out, running down his forehead.

You're startled when he goes over to your left breast, not letting it go without attention. His tongue flicks your nipple then he starts sucking harshly making you hiss. “Hey—hey! Soobin, not too rough.”

He doesn't respond nor does he relent, very obviously busy with sucking on your nipple, his other hand having free reign on your chest. You take a hold of his hair and pull him off you, his face coming into full view, lips glistening with spit. He was a mess. "Soobin, be gentle. I'm serious."

He nods and you sigh, his head once again eagerly going under your shirt. His hips start bucking into you, trying to get off, and you're sure your chest is entirely covered with hickeys-- your nipples hard and sore from all his sucking. “Wanna be inside noona, wanna be inside you." he manages to moan, voice muffled against your chest.

You close your eyes shut when you feel his bulge pressed against your clothed slit, moving just slightly to get yourself off a little too. “Yeah? Wanna fuck me?” You feel the earnest nod of his head and it makes you pout fondly. You decide to throw him a bone, you were pretty hot and bothered anyway.

"Okay baby, I'll let you."

You've never had a man be so eager to fuck you, or for better words, be fucked by you. But that could be explained by your dating history being mostly if not all, tatted macho men who liked being nonchalant. Maybe you should fuck losers more often.

By losers, you mean cute ones like Soobin.

His dick looked intimidating when you ordered for him to take it out- the swollen tip, concerningly red, precum already leaking down the veins of his fat dick and... shit that length might break you.

He's visibly embarrassed. “Um, if its too much then you don't have to—“

You position yourself on top of him again, giving him a reassuring smile. "I can take it.”

His eyes are glistening, the living room already dark due to the lack of the previous sunlight-- it was already noon. You figure you like it when guys look up at you like you had the entire world lying on your hand- your brother's best friend's working like an awakening in weird ways.

You finally sink down on him, letting out a sigh the more his length disappears into your cunt, stretching you out all the more, already hitting places you weren't sure would hit.

His pliant head falls back on the couch when he feels the warmth of your pussy- his jaw slacked, drool trickling down his chin as he lets out a strained moan. "Noona, noona I—"

The flaring of his nose is the last hint before you feel his hot semen spurt out inside you, and just when you think it's over, you feel a little more shooting up. You stare at the boy quizzically- you hadn't even moved yet and he already came.

Soobin raises his head, lower lip quivering, so obviously embarrassed by his premature orgasm. "I-i'm sorry noona, I didn't mean to- oh my god, what's gonna happen now? I can't take care of a baby I'm still in c-"

"Woah woah, Soobin, calm your ass, I'm on the pill."

He looks at you silent with a few confused blinks, before letting out an exhale of relief. You're still practically sitting on his dick, but you still find it in you to tease him after his panic ensues, "What? Were you gonna abandon me after impregnating me? Didn't think you'd be the type Soobin. Maybe even good boys can be such bitches."

The panic returns into his eyes as he shakes his head adamantly denying your attack of his character, "No! Noona, I wouldn't do that, I swear! I-i-"

"You what?" you cut him off harshly on purpose, slowly raising yourself to finally ride his twitching cock.

He immediately senses the movement, your attempt of being slow and careful failing. He squeezes his eyes shut, and you hiss disapprovingly. "Answer your noona Soobin, what would you do if you got me pregnant?"

"W-would take care of you." He whines when you fall back on his dick, a staggering breath out his mouth. You're not sure if he could even last a mere five minutes of you riding him.

"Yeah? Open your eyes for me baby."

He does as you say, though his lids are heavy over his eyes. His gaze once again finds your chest lewdly staring at the slight bounce, and before you know it, his hands are kneading your breasts again. "I would pamper you up noona, take you to all the five star restaurants." he breathes out.

You snort at his foolish promises, "With what money idiot? If anything, I'd be the one pampering you up, you're still a college student with student debt. You'd have to start working a lot more if you'd want to pamper me."

His eyes roll back when you speed up your pace on his dick for a brief second, "F-fuck, Noona--"

You feel his cock twitching inside you, and once again, strips of his cum rush into you. You wondered how much before you milked him dry? Because the boy was still as eager as ever, head going forward in attempt to latch his mouth on your nipple again, hips bucking up against your already steady pace. "I'd work ten shifts to provide for you and- mmf-- and our baby noona." he cutely muffles against your nipple.

You laugh—he was as naive as ever, but you appreciated the thought. You wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself. Your finger twirls a strand of his black hair, the innocent act in direct opposition of the filthy sound of skin on skin, combined with Soobin's fresh load making it a lot more squelching, that bounced of the walls.

"Soobin, g-good boy, suck my tits like a good boy." Your breathing gets heavier, the way he fills you up is turning out to be a lot more addicting than you thought it'd be. You assumed pain, which yeah, it still was a little painful, but you got used to it very quickly able to start feeling the pleasure overwhelm your senses.

Soobin pulls away from your chest with a pop, slowly raising his head over your shirt to look at you. "Noona?" he calls out with half lidded eyes.

"Yeah?"

"You really don't have a boyfriend right?"

You're caught off guard with the question. Obviously if you had a boyfriend you wouldn't be riding his fucking dick.

He catches your miffed look and is quick to defend himself despite your pussy clenching around him, "I-it's just-hah! Fuck- noona, it's just someone was blowing up your phone earlier- and I didn't mean to peek but- cumming, I'm cumming noona!" he cries out, successfully letting out his words before he actually orgasms.

You had picked up your pace with every word he spoke, attempting to not ruin your own high, and sure enough, you reach it, cumming in unision with Soobin's, your head exhaustedly falling onto his shoulder, trying to catch your breath.

Under you, Soobin's body was shaking, still feeling spurts of his cum. "The contact name was Yeonjun."

Your daze snaps, head shooting up at the mention of your ex. "What?"

"He kept on calling so I thought that might've been your boyfriend...but then you told me he was your ex." he replies, voice hoarse you think as a result of his rather loud whines earlier.

"I wasn't lying Soobin, he really is my ex."

"I-i wasn't accusing you of lying it's just...I don't know, I thought that maybe..."

Your subconscious drowns out Soobin's rambling, still confused that Yeonjun was ringing you up in the first place. What for? Did he leave something that he forgot to take four months ago?

That wasn't likely. You remember the day he came over to take his things very vividly. With how urgently he looked, you figured Yeonjun was serious about his belongings.

So, what was it?

With Yeonjun, it was on and off. In a way that surely couldn't be healthy for either party involved. Which is the exact reason you mutually decided to break it off a few months ago, cutting off all contact. You even blocked his socials. Each one. Instagram, snapchat, twitter, facebook.

Except for the most important, most relevant way of contact- his phone number, of course. And look how that decision bit you in the ass. You're totally overthinking why Yeonjun decided to call you, and you will when you go to sleep later today, and then the day after and-

You're not falling down that rabbit hole again.

You start moving your hips again pushing through the uncomfortable feeling. Soobin was less resilient, a disapproving whine coming from the back of his throat when you grind in his lap, his dick still deep inside you rubbing between your walls. "Noona--" he shrieks, when you start bouncing again, this time a lot harshly as you bit down on your lip.

"No more, can't- nng-" you shut up his blabbles by stuffing your breast in his mouth again. Of course it did the job.

"Filthy boy, you'd probably enjoy sucking my tits when I'm lactating."

His teary eyes look up at you, needy and twinkling under the dim light that was the living room. He wasn't denying it. Instead, he swirls his tongue around your bud, clearly getting off the thought.

"Fuck, you really are filthy." you breath out. Speeding up your pace, Soobin's unable to stay latched onto your nipple, jaw-slacked, his brows pointing upwards, unable to urge you to stop. Instead, he helps you out by bucking his hips forward, slamming his dick inside you.

A knock on the door gets you to halt your movement. Soobin still moving erratically under you. But then you slap him gently, trying to get his attention. “I think i heard—“

The knock of the door cuts you off. Facing Soobin with a wide eyed look before you jolt off him, hurriedly looking for your underwear and shorts. You lost track of time, clearly! If Beomgyu finds out you fucked his best friend, you'd be done for. He'd hate you for life. Never talk to you again.

“Soobin hurry the fuck up and go answer!” You shout in a hushed voice, frantically pulling up your shorts.

He nods, the panic contagious as he stumbles around pulling up his pants. You take a second to look over him and you curse under your breath. His cheeks were flushed red, swollen lips glistening with spit, hair strands poking out all over- fuck, he looked bad.

You attempt to pat his hair down, at least to make it a little neater, but a third knock and you're sprinting towards a room, hiding behind your shut door.

You press your ears against your door, hoping to pick up how the conversation was going. A few beats of silence, and you finally hear the unlocking of the door after a few struggling attempts from Soobin.

“Who are you?" you furrow your brows- that wasn't your brother. "Oh wait, are you one of Beomgyu’s friends?”

It was Yeonjun.

At the realization, you crack your door open, trying to peek down the hallway. You didn't have a good view but you figured it'd do.

“Yeah? Who are you?” you hear Soobin ask, his breathing sounding like he just ran a marathon. You squeeze your eyes shut- could he at least try to mask what just happened? Be a little less obvious?

“Tell Y/N for me I came over. Say it was Yeonjun.” You catch the way Yeonjun's eyes visibly look up and down the younger boys state, wondering if he caught on. “Her boyfriend. Tell her her boyfriend came over.”

Soobin bites the insides of his cheeks in attempt to not bark back at the lie, opting to just nod. “Um, yeah, sure.”

Yeonjun nods, flashing him a smile before patting his shoulder. “You look rough buddy, take care.”

Sure enough, Beomgyu shows up right then and you out of instinct close your door shut when you recognize his mop hair. Though it seemed no matter what, you couldn't escape his annoyingly blaring voice. "Oh? Yeonjun? Hey dude, haven't seen you in a while."

Yeonjun greets him like they've been close since forever... which is total bogus, they barely talked. Yeonjun finally excuses himself because he was 'just leaving'. Leaving Soobin and Beomgyu alone.

You once again try to pry in their conversation, praying Soobin could play off the way he looked and you could finally head to the comfort of your bed.

"Sorry I took long, my bitch sister lied to me. Deadass had to walk five hours to get these- You good Soobin? You look sick."

You briefly smirk sinisterly at the fact that you got Beomgyu's ass, but then the cold sweat breaks out again because the stupid fuck noticed! And now, you're impatiently tapping your foot on the floor, awaiting Soobin's response.

"Yeah dude, sorry, um, I-I have to go use the bathroom."

Internally you slap your palm on your forehead- to hell with being convincing. Consequences of choosing Soobin out of all of Beomgyu's friends to fuck you guess.

a/n; feedback (or a reblog) is always appreciated on my end lol need me someone to talk about soobin and his breeding kink because it's definitely there. oh and how hes the biggest boob guy..i dont make the rules!!!

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Dead Man Walking || LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader Summary: A night out with your best friend ends in her brother's bed. For my sweet, @morgan108 and the nonnie who introduced me to the song Dead Man Walking by Jon Bellion Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fingering smutish, fluff, angst WC: 2.3k F1 Masterlist || One || Two

You were halfway into the strapless dress you had chosen for the night out when the door swung open and Lando stepped inside with a package in his hands.

“Flo, can you please stop ordering shit off my Amazo-” 

You gasped as you dropped the material to cover your boobs but the thin satin just fluttered to your feet, baring even more to him. The lace thong did little to hide anything and his eyes drifted down over your body, down to the heels you wore and back up again before he realised he was checking you out. 

The package fell from his hands and he covered his eyes as you both winced at the sound of something shattering inside. “I didn’t see anything.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Norris,” you stated as you swiped the dress up and covered yourself properly. 

“I swear,” he cleared his throat and peeked between his fingers to see you were dressed before his hands slipped into his pockets and he rocked on the balls of his feet with a smirk. “I absolutely did not see the cute little tattoo on your hip.” 

You turned around and closed your eyes so you didn't have to see the hungry look in his. He was your best friend's brother, you had known him since you were three years old. You shouldn’t even hazard to think about him the way you did, and you definitely shouldn’t enjoy the way he looked at you. Well, the way he looked at you these past few years at least. 

Somewhere along the way he stopped seeing you as the annoying little girl who would steal his snacks on movie nights and started seeing you as…something more.

“Unless you want your sister to strangle you, I suggest you get out of here now.”

He threw his hands up at the idea. “It’s my house.”

You cocked a hand on your hip and he bit his lip at the memory of the dainty little constellation inked into the skin that lay beneath. He hadn't been close enough to see it in detail but he was certain it was your star sign. “It’ll be an estate sale if she catches you in here.”

With a sigh he backed up, murmuring under his breath as he left, “Last time I let her hide out here for the holidays.”

 Every surface of the house was littered with Flo’s belongings. She had spent the last two weeks in Monte Carlo with Lando and you were joining her for the last weekend before summer break was over and it was back to university. You were going to make the most of the trip and planned on seeing just how wild the nightlife could get in the small city. 

It was only moments after Lando left the room that Flo swept in and she stumbled to a stop. “Holy shit, babes, you look gorgeous! Don’t let Lando see you in that.”

“Why not?” you asked as you grabbed your perfume, the same one he had once commented smelt good on you. 

Flo crossed the room with a peculiar look on her face and she stepped right into your personal space so she wouldn’t be overheard. “I haven’t seen him with a girl the entire time I have been here, like not even on the phone. That's weird right?”

You pursed your lips and pressed a hand to her forehead. “Do you have sun stroke?” 

She brushed your hand aside with a roll of her blue eyes that matched her brothers perfectly. “The horndog hasn’t been horndogging.”

“Okay, that doesn’t sound how you think it does,” you said as you grabbed her shoulders and gave her a gentle shake so she could refocus her thoughts. “What does that have to do with me?”

“Because you’re stunning and, most importantly, you’re the only female in this house that is not related to him. I know you would never betray me like that but I know that horndog would totally try it on with you.”

“Seriously, Flo, I think you need a drink more than me,” you laughed, shaking your head as you grabbed your clutch and started to tow her out of the room. “I’m sure your brother’s not desperate enough to risk death. Plus, he could open his front door, throw a rock and hit ten supermodels in this place. I think I’m safe.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you compare yourself to supermodels when you are literally the most beautiful person I know - inside and out.”

“I’m not wearing waterproof eyeliner so can we please go before you make me cry?” You looped your arms together before descending the stairs where Lando was waiting with Max, the two watching some video on Lando’s phone before the tap of your heels caught their attention. 

“Oh boy, you’re going to be busy tonight. Good luck keeping the guys away from them,” Max laughed as he slapped his best friend's chest. “Ladies, looking lovely as always.”

“Not so bad yourself, Fewtrell,” you said with a wink, abandoning Flo’s arm for his. “Now what’s this I hear about you playing Counter Strike? Who am I supposed to shit talk with in the COD chat room now?”

“Counter Strike isn’t too bad,” he teased as he led the way to the Jolly and pulled the front seat forward for you to climb in the back, “maybe you could come to the dark side.”

“Who kicked your puppy?” Flo asked quietly and you looked away from Max to see Lando looking angry as he ignored his sister’s question. 

“You, upfront,” he said with a nod of his head your way. 

“I’m fine here.”

“Flo doesn’t need the leg room,” he countered as he snapped his finger, making your brow lift at the action. 

“Bro, you're stressing,” Max laughed, reaching for the chair and pulling it back into place so Flo could sit down. “Let’s just get to the club.”

You could feel his eyes on you in the rearview mirror the entire time and it would have been a lie if you said you didn’t enjoy teasing him. The pair of blue eyes narrowed when you shifted closer to Max, leaning across him to point at random shops and monuments, asking him pointless questions about them until you nearly flew forward with the heavy break Lando made. It was only Max’s quick reflexes that saved you, his arms catching you around the middle and tugging you back into his arms.

“Dude, where did you get your licence?” he complained as he kicked the seat in front of him, earning a glare from Lando.

“Fucking Mario Kart,” you muttered as you settled back in the seat.

As soon as you got to the club you ditched the guys and found your way to the bar. 

“What was up with your brother?” you asked after ordering some shots. “He was being a bit of a twat.”

“I have no idea, he’s just like Mila - if he doesn’t get a nap he’s a nightmare to deal with.” The drinks were put down and talk of Lando was forgotten. “Bottoms up, babe.”

You groaned as you slowly came to consciousness thanks to the uncomfortable, hard pillow. You knew if you opened your eyes you wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep so you tried to fluff it out with a whack of your fist, only for a pained groan to jolt your senses. 

“What the fuck was that for?”

You bolted upright as your eyes flew open and saw the smooth expanse of Lando’s chest, small outlines of your ear shaped into his skin from laying there all night. Your eyes drifted down his body and you held the memory of feeling every inch of it last night. 

“What did you do?” you whispered as you covered your mouth only to drop your hands to your body when you found you were equally as naked as he was. “Oh, fuck. Lando…”

“Yeah, you said that last night,” he chuckled as he sat up, his abs hardening with the movement and distracting you from what he was saying. “Though it was a little more breathless and a bit higher pitched.” Grabbing your waist, he pulled you over his lap and tipped your head back so you could see the little smirk on his face. “As for what I did, well, it was everything you asked for, no, begged me for.”

Your skin was too warm against his, the replay in your mind making your eyes shut as you tried to block it out. You had begged him, and he had been more than willing to give you everything you asked for. 

“This was a mistake. You are a dead man walking if Flo ever finds out.” You covered your face as you shook your head. “Oh, god, she was right, you were desperate. That’s the only reason this happened, why it was me and not some other chick who would blabber to the press. You knew I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“You’re wrong, about everything. I’m not desperate, you muppet,” Lando breathed across your skin and you peeked through the gap in your fingers as he kissed your shoulder. “How could I want anyone else when you’re all I ever think about?”

You could see Flo getting lost in the crowd as she danced with a handsome monegasque, the sway of her hips translating despite not being able to speak the same language. It was a side profile from the corner of your eye that pulled your attention away from her and you spotted Lando making a direct line her way. 

“Shit,” you swore as you did what any best friend would do and ran interference. “Hey Lan, I don’t think I thanked you for letting me stay at your place this weekend. It’s really nice of you.”

He looked torn as his eyes darted between you and the space where Flo had been before disappearing deeper into the night club. Without the distraction of the punk trying to grind on his sister he was able to give all his attention to you and you saw the switch as his face relaxed, the hard lines easing and a playful smile gracing his lips.

“I would say anytime, but I think you would get me in trouble,” he teased, dipping his head closer to yours to make conversation easier, at least that's what you told yourself.

“You get yourself into trouble,” you pointed out as his hands found your waist and he pulled your body closer. “This is what I mean.”

His lips brushed your cheek and the gravel in his voice sent goosebumps prickling over your skin. “We’re just dancing, love.”

Your bodies had moved closer and closer with each beat of the song until there wasn’t an iota of space between you. His palms had glided down the satin material to rest on the swell of your ass and your arms had draped around his neck. You could feel his breath on your skin when he buried his face in your neck and grazed his lips lightly over your racing pulse.

“Do you know that you drive me crazy?” he asked with a nip of his teeth and you shook your head. “You do. Seeing you flirt with other guys, seeing the way they look at you…”

You pulled back to see the hard lines return to his jaw as he clenched his teeth and you twirled your fingers around the short curls at his nape. “How do they look at me?”

“The same way I do,” he answered quickly before stepping out of your embrace. “But they have a chance that I never will.”

He started to walk away and you knew you should have let him because he was right. You loved Flo, and she had made it clear from the moment you realised that boys didn’t have cooties that Lando was off limits, just like your group of friends were off limits to him. You should have let him walk away.

“She cannot find out,” you whispered as your body started to respond to the small lines he traced down your spine and over your hip. 

He chuckled as his hand reached your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin as he guided them apart. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Your lips parted with a soft gasp as his fingers reached the juncture of your thighs and you combed your fingers into his hair as he teased your entrance. “Kiss me,” you begged, your voice quiet with the knowledge his sister, your best friend, was asleep on the other side of the wall. “Please, Lando.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as he tortured you with slow circles until he sealed his lips with yours and stole the cry of pleasure when he finally curled two fingers into you. “Shh, love,” he chuckled as he brought you the edge of bliss on his lap, his eyes devouring the sight of your undoing right in front of him. “Been wanting this since we played Seven Minutes in Heaven.”

Your ears were ringing as your heart beat erratically and your body flushed with fever. Your legs began to tremble and your toes curled into his mattress as he pinned you to his lap with one arm curled around your waist and the other kept you dancing on the knife's edge. 

“You were my first kiss,” he confessed against your lips as the tension in your body snapped and he used his lips to smother the whimpers and moans he swore were the sweetest sounds he had ever heard. 

“You were mine too.” Collapsing weakly in his arms, your head rolled into the crook of his neck where it fit perfectly. “I wanted you to be my first everything.”

Click here for part two.

[gojonanami]

BLOODSUCKER - SATORU GOJO

✴︎ summary: you had avoided your ex for so long, only to run into him at a halloween party, and he's the same as ever but has his teeth always been that sharp? ✴︎ contents: 18+ only, nsfw, dub/con, blood kink, gojo has fangs, biting, marking, bloodsucking, fingering (f!receiving), swearing, semi-public sex, sex against a car, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (sweetheart, pretty, baby), ✴︎ wc: 2,704

“Can I have a bite?” He whispers, lips against your ear, his breath hot against your skin, sending a warm flush down your body — and why did he smell so intoxicating? 

The night had gone on normally enough — yet another Halloween party you had been dragged to (after you had lost a bet and ended up being the designated driver for the evening) in another coordinated themed costume — this time for the Barbie movie. Yet another throng of costumed drunks and weirdos you had to wade through while your friends had their fun. And you thought the night would be boring. 

Oh, you were so wrong. 

He saw you first. You were only sure of that, after, because you remembered the prickling of your skin when his ice blue irises had found you lounging in the loft area upstairs — where most people had begun to clear out of after the keg had arrived downstairs. You had let your hair out of your wig, your head aching from the weight of the hair on your head and the cheap elastic band trying to work its way into your forehead. 

You unlocked your phone, looking at yourself in your camera, pouting at the state of your hair — unkempt and unruly from the wig, but you only could do what you could. 

“Great, now I can be a scary Barbie,” you murmur, locking your phone, as you pocket it. 

“Oh, you’re not scary,” and your head snaps up, eyes finding those pools of still blue that looked like you could drown in them — and you very well would. His lips were curled in a small smile, his skin looked pale in the harsh fluorescent lights of the kitchen, “but I wouldn’t mind seeing you be a little scary,” 

“Satoru,” your lips twist, fuck, you thought he’d never show up to this party — you had avoided him flawlessly since your breakup — if you could even call it that. You never official — you were never anything, just a situation that was more than a booty call, but less than a relationship. Every invitation was only accepted with assurance and recon that Satoru would not attend, every exit strategy was planned, and every move was carefully made. 

Except this one. 

“Oh, you recognize me?” he gasps in mock surprise, lips in that shit eating grin you had loved to kiss off of him, but now, all it did was make you want to slap him, “surprised you did after you’ve avoided me for so long, sweetheart,” 

“And apparently you’re the one with brain damage because we broke up — don’t call me that,” you sigh, eyes glancing down at his outfit — a black and white suit with a high collar, as his mouth moved as he spoke, you caught sight of fangs on his teeth, and his eyes glinted with a crimson tint dipped in an ocean of blue, “your costume is fitting — you definitely did suck the life out of our relationship,” 

“Bitter doesn’t suit you, baby,” your eye twitches, as he dares closer, eyes glinting in the low light of the kitchen, “plus y’know, you always did the best sucking,” 

Your traitorous cheeks flush, and he doesn’t miss the way your eyes betray you by flickering downwards, “fuck off—“ 

“Oh, I know you want me to fuck something — don’t think it’s off though,” he looms closer, licking his lips, as he smiles — and your heart forgets to beat — did he always smell this good? He smelt of musk, wood, and everything warm and honeyed — the scent melted over you, plying your resistance with sweetness in contrast to his vulgarity, “look at you, haven’t even touched you and you’re so pliant, where’s that mouth now?” And his thumbs drag down your lips, pulling at the bottom one — “looks better wrapped around my cock, doesn’t it?” 

And his words snap you from your trance, slapping his hand away, “didn’t expect an apology from you, but I thought you’d do better than this shit,” 

“Can you blame me for missing you, pretty?” He pouts, “thought you loved me more than that,” 

“And I thought you loved me enough to commit but looks like we both are wrong,” you roll your eyes, “go find someone else to fuck with, Gojo,” 

He raises an eyebrow, “Aw, baby, don’t act so unfamiliar, you had my dick in you after all, you can still call me Satoru,” and then there’s a cheer in the living room that cuts off your retort, as he turns to look. 

And that’s your cue to leave, you slip away from him, grabbing your jacket, making an Irish exit, slipping through the throng of people partying. You manage to get down the street, the streets quiet now, the sounds of the party growing more distant by the second. A sense of dread settled over you the more you walked, forming a lump in your throat and a pit in your stomach. The streetlights flickered above you, the wind cutting through your jacket as you pulled it closer around you. Your car was close, right past this wooded backyard, trees lining what seemed to be an abandoned home. There was only a few more yards — and then you heard a twig snap — your head snapped around to look behind you. 

And that was your mistake. 

A hand clamped over your mouth, as you gasped against it, another tight around your middle, your scream was muffled against the palm. And then a familiar voice whispered in your ear, “Boo,” before he lets you go, and you whirl around, smacking Satoru against his chest, hard. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Your heart was pumping, hard, nearly banging against your ribs, body still shaking with adrenaline, “what the fuck - that’s not fucking funny,” 

“It wasn’t supposed to be funny — it was supposed to be spooky,” he grins, unaffected by your anger, as your fingers clench into fists, “you didn’t give me a treat so I had to play a trick. It’s the rules of Halloween, pretty,” 

“It wasn’t spooky, it was fucking scary—“ you move to hit him again, and he catches your hand by the wrist, and he’s pulling you close, “let me go, Gojo—“ 

“Satoru,” he corrects, his fingers caressing your cheek, and you feel your knees knocking together, the world shifting beneath your feet, “I’m sorry for frightening you, sweetheart,” and he’s helping you walk over to your car, “just wanted to make sure you get to your car safely,” 

Why were you letting him help you? Why was your body leaning against his? Why were you letting his arm slink around your waist, fingers squeezing your hip? But those same questions sunk away into the inky abyss of your mind, as thoughts blurred over each other, and all you can think about was him.  

“Satoru,” you murmur, as you stumble against him, and he catches you by your waist, steadying you, “I don’t know what’s wrong,” your head rests against his chest, but you felt so comfortable, so…content. 

“It’s okay, baby, I got you,” he purred, his words only intoxicated you further, drizzled like melted molasses down your throat, “that spook I gave you earlier really took it out of you, but,” his fingers tilt your chin up, his eyes finding yours — and they glowed, a shiny blue that unnerved you, “should I show you something really scary?” 

“Satoru, what—“ and he’s kissing you, lips sliding against yours — he tastes familiar, hint of candy corn that he was always a fiend for, but he tastes even sweeter than that, headier too — before he parts, “what are you doing?” 

“Showing you just how much I missed you,” he hums, thumb gliding over the length of your cheek, “y’know how hard it was for me without you? Wouldn’t be able to sleep. I could only think about how I had screwed thing up. Would take these long walks at night when I couldn’t sleep,” and his fingers trace down your jawline, before reaching your neck, his thumb resting against your pulse, “turns out those walks were good for one thing,” 

“And what’s that?” You murmur, still utterly distracted by his touch. 

And he brushes his lips against your neck, teeth grazing against your pulse, “Finding a way to keep you — forever,” and his lips find yours again, more insistent this time, as his arms press your body to his, your hands sliding up his chest, caged in by his form, “can I have a bite?” he whispers, lips against your ear now, sending a flush across your cheeks, “just wanna mark you again, like i used to, make you mine,” 

For a moment, the curtain snaps back, mask slipping, as your eyes flutter open without the rosy glasses he had slipped over your eyes, “I’m not yours,” and you only see him — the true him — for a moment. 

His muscles tighten, fingers digging into your sides harshly, gripping your flesh hard enough to bruise, his gaze is dark, navy instead of the usual cerulean with a ring of red that pierces through your skin, but his teeth — his teeth scare you the most — his fangs aren’t fake, his tongue sliding against them both, as he flashed an unnerving smile at you that sends your blood running cold.  

But not colder than his. 

“Satoru — what—“ and his lips find yours again, sending a headiness throughout your body, from your head to the tips of your toes, “I-“ 

“Just let me have this, just this one night,” he murmurs, words as smooth as glass and as needy as need itself, “please,” 

And you’re the one pulling him to you, back against the cool metal of your car, and your fingers cup his face, pulling him against your lips. He tastes like want, his tongue parts your lips, as his fingers slide up your dress, sending goosebumps up your thighs, “Fuck, all it takes for you, huh?” He murmurs, and his fangs nibble at your bottom lip making you gasp, pressing wet kisses down your jaw, until he reaches your neck. 

“Been thinking about this for far too long, sweetheart,” 

two fingers drag down your neck first, as he tilts your head for easy access, and you shiver at his touch — was he colder than before? “I’m going to be doing a lot more than marking you like I did before,” his lips press a delicate kiss to your neck, “need to taste it,” 

And his fangs drag over your soft flesh, before he finally bites you. Your mouth hangs open in a sharp gasp as his fangs pierce your skin, and your head lolls back, as pleasure floods your body. You feel your warm blood dripping from your neck, slipping down your skin, as he sucks from you. 

He pulls away for a moment to look at you, your scarlet blood dripping from his mouth, painting his pale pink lips burgundy, as his tongue darts out to catch the blood slipping down your chin. 

“You taste like everything to me,” he murmurs, pressing his nose against the nape of your neck, “sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted, aren’t you?” 

You whimper, “Satoru, feels so good,” and he’s kissing you again, letting you taste your own blood on his lips, it only makes you want him even more. But this isn’t right, something wasn’t right—

“Just give in, sweetheart,” he’s dragging your hands down your sides, squeezing your hips, as his palms rest under your thighs, “let me make you feel good,” 

And he lifts you, guiding your legs to wrap around your waist, as his large palm slides up your thigh, hiking your dress up. He grins, looking at your soaked panties, thumb pressing against your puffy clit, making you gasp and squirm, “wonder if you taste even sweeter down here, baby?” 

You whine louder, as his fingers slide into the waistband of your underwear and snaps it against your skin, “Your blood is pumping harder than ever, bet it tastes even better like that — full of your fear, full of your pleasure,” his fingers are sliding your drenched panties down, “fuck, you’re a little freak, bet you got wet when I grabbed you, can’t all be from the last few minutes,” 

And his lithe finger sinking into you, as your lips part in a gasp as he bullies your walls, “So tight for me,” he groans, as his finger curls against you, making you moan, and his teeth graze against your neck, before sinking in. You both moan in tandem, as he drinks more of your blood, as a second finger parts into your folds, your release dripping down his palm. He’s stretching you out — fingers pistoning in and out, Pleasure courses up and down your body, toes curling, as all you can hear is the sucking of his fangs and the squelch of his fingers in your cunt. 

And then he hits that spot, and you’re cumming, slick dripping down your thighs as you moan, as your hips move against his fingers, riding out your orgasm. He pulls your fangs from your neck, letting your blood drip down your neck. 

He tilts your head back, letting him look at your fluttering eyelashes and fucked out expression, lips parted, as your blood paints your skin a beautiful maroon. 

“So fuckin’ pretty, sweetheart,” he’s pulling his fingers from you, as you gasp from the emptiness. He places them in his mouth, cleaning them of your release, “think I may get addicted baby, gotta have more of you — doesn’t matter if it’s your blood or your cum,” 

And you hear the clink of your belt buckle and sound of his zipper, as he frees his cock, rubbing against your dripping pussy, “Gonna let your ex fuck you against your car? Gotta have you baby, but if I take you now, I don’t know if I’ll ever let you go,” he’s teasing the head of his cock against your pussy lips, “do you still want me to do it?”

You whine, back arching against the hard surface of the car, “please, I need you,” your fingers wrap around his neck, his lips against yours, “Satoru—“ 

And he’s sinking his cock into you, as he’s lifting your legs to your ears, ankles by his ears as his hips flush against your ass, “Fuck, can you feel me kissing the deepest part of you?” His hips roll into you now, slowly at first, again and again, as your walls throb around him, the car groans and your ankles ache against his slow thrusts, “best cunt I’ve ever had, and all fucking mine now,” 

“Toru, please, more—“ 

And he barks a laugh, sweat slipping down your forehead, his balls slapping against your ass, “so needy f’me, you’re mine aren’t you? Say you’re mine,” he’s grunting as your walls flutter around him, and he knows you’re close—

Your orgasm washes over you, toes curling, and he leans forward, fangs sinking into you, as he fucks you through it. The blood he drinks makes your head dizzy with pleasure, until he pulls away, letting your blood drip from his lips. And he’s grunting, hips stuttering as he bottoms out — making you gasp and whine again. Until he’s cumming inside you, painting your walls white, emptying his load into you. He’s fucking his cum inside your cunt.

And he’s easing your legs down as the two of you come down, his face buried in the nape of your neck, licking at the blood dripping from his bites — your neck beginning to ache and sting now. 

“So pretty, so perfect,” he coos, his lips curling still red from your blood, as he’s curling his arms around your waist, “gotta take you home so I can taste you all over again.” 

“No, I can’t. This was a one time thing—“ 

And he’s tilting your chin up, eyes flashing dangerously, as his lips curl, “I told you, I’m not going to let you go, besides,” he turns your head towards your rear view mirror, your eyes beginning to glint red, “I have to let you have a bite of me later,” and you can feel your blood run cold, “it’s only fair, isn’t it, sweetheart?” 

✴︎ a/n: was possessed to write this by the halloween spirits -- also i have a thing for bloodsucking now unfortunately. have a spooky season :)

✴︎ tag list: @d1rtv, @crazynocturnalkiki, @ichikanu, @dazailover1900, @sinnerstardoll, @bisexualpanicwentoutforasmoke, @dumbabie, @aureatekintsugi, @mooly-artistic, @happymangospot, @hiimarandin, @bunsunee, @5-xiaoo,

[fcthots]

“I swear to you, that as long as I’m alive I won’t let a single soul ever harm you.” with protective upset and slightly unhinged jason would be so so good oh my god. like if something bad happens to reader and he has to get violent to defend her… yeah.

-🧸

You were on you way home, out later than you should have been, but your friend needed moral support after a breakup and you lost track of time.

Unfortunately while both you & Jason's apartment and your friend's were just off the edge of crime alley, your friend's apartment was on the opposite end of you and Jason. All of this is to say, unless you wanted to be out after midnight, you had to pass through crime alley after dark. It was just a five minute walk there, when daylight spared you of most of the dangers of Gotham, but it was pitch black now. You should have driven, but at the time it didn’t seem necessary.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

You walked as fast as possible.

You didn’t even have a purse on you. Your phone was in the leather jacket Jason had bought you as a present and you had 20 dollars stuffed somewhere in your pant pockets.

Were you supposed to turn left here? Yeah, you recognize that streetlamp.

You would call Jason, but your phone is fucking dead and it's not like you were gonna ask your crying friend for a charger. And you didn’t realize how late it had gotten until you stepped outside with no way to get back into your friends apartment.

You were in the home stretch, just in the outskirts of crime alley. Almost freedom.

Never let it be said that you were lucky. All of your luck was used getting your hot ass boyfriend. Luck gone.

The man had a knife and was screaming for your wallet. Your wallet that you did not bring with you.

"Give me the wallet or I'm gonna spill your guts on the fucking ground!"

Just because your boyfriend was scary looking, did not mean you were used to scary men, especially ones that yelled at you. Your hands shook and you weren't sure what to do.

"I don’t have it. All I have is 20 dollars, please."

"That's a fucking lie. I see your jacket. I know that shit is expensive. Lie to me again and I'll slit your throat."

Fuck. If you had to guess, it would be Jason that would find your body. You didn’t want it to be Jason. He wouldn't be able to handle seeing your lifeless eyes. You know what it's like to look into your soulmates lifeless eyes and realize they're gone forever; you were hoping Jason would never have to experience that.

"It's-"

"Tough luck... I guess I could accept other forms of payment."

He bares his teeth in a grin as he sees the look on your face.

"Unless you'd prefer that no one ever finds your body?"

You're really glad you told Jason you loved him before he left for patrol.

The man starts getting closer to you. You can't talk, can't scream, can't think. You were gonna die alone.

You think you mumble out a 'please' before your back hits the wall. His knife was to your throat, but all you could think about was Jason.

There was a bang that you didn’t fully register. Before you could think twice about it, your mugger was on the ground. You didn’t move. You stayed, frozen, silent tears running down your cheeks.

"Shh, it's ok. You're ok. It's me."

You finally focused your eyes and saw the white lenses staring at you, his arms in the air.

You babbled nonsense. You couldn't breathe.

You tried to back away from the man on the floor, but you almost fell. You swore your legs were going to give out. Jason was at your side in less than a second. He lifted you over the bleeding body on the ground, supported your weight as your knees buckled.

He tucked your face into the crook of his neck and you choked on air.

"I've got you. Match my breaths, ok? Good. You're doing great. You're ok, I promise."

All you could manage to get out was his name.

"'M right here. Just breathe. Focus on that for me." His hand cradled the base of your neck.

Eventually you stopped crying. Eventually you could breathe again. Eventually Jason led your face away from his neck to look at you. Your whole body shook. You watched as he drew his hand up to his helmet and heard this hiss and click and he took it off. He took your jaw in one of his hands.

He wiped the splattered blood and tears off your cheeks with a gloved hand, traced the trail of fresh blood and broken skin on your neck from where the knife was pressed against you. “I swear to you, that as long as I’m alive I won’t let a single soul ever harm you.”

You looked into his eyes as they flashed an inhuman green, and you believed him.

Bonus:

"Wait, Jay. Did you just happen to stumble across me?"

"There...may or may not be a tracker in the jacket I bought you... You were in one place for too long."

"I hate that that makes me feel safer."

He smiles apologetically. "I love you."

"I love you too."

[yorsgirl]

Perfect Choice

Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Sukuna didn't know getting you as his girlfriend would mean he had to step up and watch you try on a hundred dresses.

OR

In which you take Sukuna for dress shopping.

Tropes: Fluff, Established relationship

Warnings: No Curse AU, Human!Sukuna, Sukuna is Sukuna, healthy relationship, kinda OOC, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.

Word count: 2.7k

Sukuna didn't sign up for this.

Watching you choose through a rack of dresses wasn't on his list of fun things. It was a chore, at most. He'd much rather be sitting before his PC with his headphones on and play COD than be standing in a fashion boutique.

"Aww c'mon, don't make that face now," You stifle the urge to chuckle at his obviously irritated expression.

He rolls his eyes, pushing his hand in his pocket. He should have never agreed to accompany you in your little find the right dress expedition.

And he would have said no, if only you didn't conjure your eyes into one of the cutest baby faces while jutting out your lower lip. On top of that, you had to go with the little – Please, at the end.

How could he not give in?

God, he was weak in front of that expression. Not that he'll ever admit it out loud. But he thinks, you already know that.

"Would you like to try that on, Ma'am?" An attendant approaches the both of you, gesturing to the dress you have in hand.

You pursue your lips and nod, "Yes but I would like to see some more."

"May I know the type of dress you require?"

"An evening gown," You knit your eyebrows but keep the smile. "Its a formal party so if you could..." You trail off and the attendant gets the message as she points the trial room for you and leaves to get some more dress which you can try.

"When will this end?" Sukuna sighs and mutters under his breath.

"When I find my dress, come." You turn on your heels and start walking.

"Why should I?" He asks exasparately.

"Don't you want to see me try them on?"

"I don't care."

"Well, too bad." You give him a sheepish smile. "You have to. Now, follow." You command, skipping over to the trial rooms to which he grumbles something under his breath but follows regardless.

There are four trial rooms, each one has a stool with multiple hooks on the left wall and two full length mirrors. Outside, a small yet broad lane passes before them with a common full length mirror situated on one wall. Opposite to which there is a white couch.

Good for both of you, its a weekday so there isn't much rush and the trial rooms are free. The attendant returns with a few other dresses, hangs them up in a room and leaves.

You look at Sukuna, "Just cause you agreed to come, I will let you have the first pick." You point to the flurry of dresses hanging on the hooks.

Pick a dress? Like he knows anything about them in the first place. His crimson eyes flicker with annoyance as they narrow, "Just wear whatever you want, woman."

"I will wear whatever you pick." You say confidently and his lip twitches but he doesn't let the smirk show yet.

"I don't know shit about your shitty dresses."

"Then you'll learn something, today." You tease which earns you a scowl from him. "Pick one."

He groans, momentarily glancing up at the ceiling then turning to the dresses. He doesn't even take two seconds before pointing the one at center.

"Orange?"

"Yes."

"Fine," With a smile on your face, you enter the trial room and start to get changed.

He sighs and sits down on the couch. It'd be a long day but at least he gets to sit.

Sukuna wants to laugh. Previously, he wouldn't have taken a second look at these stores and now he is waiting for you to get changed in any of them and put on a show for him.

Just what have you reduced him into? He swears, you are a witch behind that pretty facade.

Three minutes later, he hears the door being unlocked. You come out and you are... glaring at him.

"Your choice sucks." You declare as soon as you step out of the trial room.

Sukuna has to stifle the snort on the brink of his lips. He obviously didn't care while making the pick and its showing. You are wearing the orange dress he chose and it's a clear indication that it's a - No. With a large bow on the black waistband and the number of layers of skirt, it looks like you are inflated.

But your fury is amusing so he retorts back, "You're my choice."

"Yeah, the only place it did not suck."  You shoot back and march inside the trial room without waiting for his response. Finally, he can let out the snicker.

You come out a few minutes later wearing a green dress. You take a spin, "So?"

"Add feathers and wings, you can cosplay a parrot." He mocks.

"Still better than your pick."

"Really? You are picking this?" He raises an eyebrow, you stay silent and walk back into the trial room. The answer is clear. No.

You come out wearing another one, its got a white bodice, a pink belt and a dark (he doesn't know what exactly it is except it looks like the middle color between grey and blue) skirt. The conclusion is apparent: it's hideous.

"And you got the nerve to say my choice sucks?" He lips curl up into a smirk and you glare at him.

"We all have our moments." You shrug, taking a twirl in it. Looking at your reflection, you grunt, "God, I look ugly."

"The dress is ugly," He corrects, leaning back on the couch, just then the attendant returns. His eyes move to her, lips curving down in a disapproving grin. "What are you, blind?

"Sor–"

"Does your choice range from a grandma to clowns?" He remarks with a roll of his eyes.

"Sukuna!" You exclaim in panic. Forcing a smile on your lips, you glance at the attendant. "Ah- sorry, he didn't mean that..."

"Of course I di–"

"We'd see something in different style," You say before your boyfriend can run his mouth. You shoot him a glare and he shoots back another.

Keep your mouth shut.

No.

Yes.

Try me.

It's like you are communicating with eyes alone and a grin stretches on his lips and boy... that isn't good news. He is again about to say something but you speak first.

"Can you bring us something more modern and maybe... formal?"

"As you say, ma'am." The attendant answers politely, walking out of the room.

You shoot Sukuna a scowl, "Are you crazy?"

"I call it honesty." He says with conviction. "Don't tell me you really liked any one of these shits."

He may not be a dress expert but he knows a good outfit when he sees one and among the ones you tried on, they are level below of what is considered good.

He knows he's right, your frown shows as you shake your head.

You again vanish into the changing room, the attendant arrives with a few more dresses for you before leaving you two alone again.

"I'll be quick."

He hears you from inside and he wants to say - make it quicker, but he can't. The last thing he wants is you sulking all day cause you couldn't find your perfect dress. And even though, you wouldn't bother him but he will be bothered just by looking at that expression.

"Take your time, I am here."

You don't answer but he thinks you have heard him. For the next fifteen minutes, you try on a few dresses. They are better than the first three, still not up to the mark. Either mobility is a problem or the fabric being tight around certain areas or the color being unflattering.

Sukuna has his phone out and he is scrolling through his messages when he hears you curse from the trial room (his ears are sharp).

"What happened?" He asks, standing up from the couch.

"This is... bad."

"How much?"

"Borderline stripper."

That catches his interest, his eyebrow twitches. Would something really that revealing be in a fashion boutique? Considering, its one of the posh stores in city, the chances are slim.

"Can't be."

"It is," You quickly reply.

"Prove me wrong then," He adds, crossing his hands over his chest. "Come out."

You don't speak for a minute and he opens his mouth but you croak out a, "come here." Sukuna obliges quickly, standing before your door when the lock turns and he sees you.

It's like all his blood ran down to his manhood.

You are wearing a black full sleeved dress. The color is flattering. And it would have been fine if it was just that but it isn't.

The V neckline runs too deep to the end of your chest, revealing your skin and your side breasts. A shimmering belt adorns your waist, a slit emerges from your right thigh giving him the full view of your exposed leg.

Sukuna could feel his throat going dry and stomach tightening. His finger twitches and he wants to feel your skin on his. He swallows a lump, trying to keep himself from staring at your tits which would have spilled out if not for the tight fabric (as if that does any good either as it only sticks to you as a second skin). He tears his eyes off the cleavage window, returning to your face.

"And?"

And what? This is a no. He wants to say that.

The dress itself isn't bad and you look good in it. But its too revealing and he's too much of a selfish man to let the lust filled eyes of those shitheads from campus wander on your body.

No, that's not permeable. No way in hell is he going to let others see you in that way.

He clears his throat and answers, "If you want everyone looking at your chest then go on."

"Told you, its bad." You place your hand on your waist and lean a bit forward. He has to resist his eyes from wandering below to your breasts and cleavage which is accentuated by your new pose.

A fire alights in his body and his thoughts are flickering to a direction he doesn't want them to. Still, the temptation of running his fingertips on your– NO.

He shakes his head. "Remove this dress."

You need to remove this dress. He needs you out of this dress.

He pauses before quickly adding, "change into another."

Yeah, that's what he meant, obviously. You need to change into another dress.

You nod and pivot around, he is trying not to stare at your the curve of your ass. You push your hair to one side, glancing at him from the periphery. "Can you uh... can you unzip it? The sleeves are tight."

The dress was already enough of a problem, now your insane request.

He complies wordlessly. Each second feels like eternity to him, your zipper comes down in a agonizing slow pace. And he has to refrain himself from pressing his lips on your nape.

He steps away from the room as the door closes. He clenches his fist and curses under his breath, "Fuck..."

"I'll take a trip to the washroom." He shouts to let you know and is stomping out before you can answer.

He doesn't realize that his face is red and he is sweating until he reaches the stalls.

.

Now you are staring at yourself on the common mirror of the lane.

A pink gown reaching till your ankles, its got poofy sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. Sequins adorns the bodice, small glitter stars on the white net over the skirt.

Sukuna watches from behind you, his arms folded over his chest. A ghost of a smile on his lips, "Like it, princess?"

You raise an eyebrow, glancing at him from the mirror. The corner of your lip curls involuntarily, "Princess?"

"Do look like one while wearing that." He answers.

You know it's not his attempt at flirting, he's being honest but the your cheeks tinge just a bit of red.

You playfully roll your eyes, pushing the strands of hair from your eyes, "I am more eligible for a queen."

He already believes you are his queen. But he'd never say it out loud to you but anyone who knows him, they know that you are his queen. You are his.

"Like it or not?" He questions again, watching as your fingertips glide over the garment.

Pressing on the larger sequins and the broach placed over your heart. He notes the uncertainty clear in your expression, the hesitance clear. You are bothered, somehow.

"I mean... it's good and the color's nice and there- there's no problem but its uh..." You pause, trying to find the right words. "What should I say? It's Uhm..."

"Too much?" He offers.

"Too much."

His crimson irises meet yours in the mirror. The tender stare isn't missed, stark contrast to his attitude half an hour ago. No words are spoken in between but its almost like a conversation is held in gaze alone.

After a second, both of your lips stretches into a smile (his looks like a smirk more).

"Am I indecisive?"

"You have tried almost ten dresses, woman." He states with a roll of eyes. "Of course, you are."

You frown and Sukuna wants to hit himself for making that comment.

"I can take thi–"

"Now don't settle for something which you obviously don't like," He interrupts you. "The last thing I want is my girl wearing something she hates."

You have to pinch your lips together to not let the smile show but it's damn difficult when he has that smirk on his face and blood rushes to your cheek.

There's just something that happens when he calls you his.

You march up to the changing room, "Want to make another awful choice for me?"

His answer would have been no but he can't say that cause he wants to pick a dress for you.

No, he wouldn't admit that it's fun. He is just... amused. Yes, amused.

He looks at the dresses again. And by look, he is actually looking. Analyzing the styles, colors and fabric before he points the one at right.

"Red?"

"Red."

"Red it is," You affirm and step into the room again.

He leans against the wall of the common area, scrolling through his phone to kill time. But the wait is killing him and the device doesn't distract his impatience to see you in his pick.

After a minute, he hears your voice, "This is it."

Curiosity plagues him again, he straightens himself up and you step outside.

You are glowing.

Sukuna's breath hitches in his throat, eyes widening just slightly. He takes every inch of your form, engraving it in his mind.

The dress isn't one with complex designs or embellishments. A simple off-shoulder red dress reaching till your ankles accentuating the waist and the skirt then flows all the way out.

Less is more; whoever said that, they were damn right.

However, it isn't the dress that has him transfixed. It's the fact that you are smiling. You are twirling. You are posing. You are beaming.

"It's perfect," You tell him, taking a spin as the skirt twirls in the air and you giggle like a kid.

It is. The dress is perfect. You are perfect.

"Like it, princess?" He asks even though he knows the answer, he wants to hear it from you.

You look at him with disbelief still with the smile. "Like it? Oh no, I don't like it. I love it."

You skip over to him, still beaming. Standing on your tip toes, you press your lips on his cheek. "Thank you." You express while grinning.

You don't get a second to react when Sukuna grabs your chin, tilting your face aside and smashes his lips on yours. Heat rushes to your face when you feel him smirk against your lips.

The curve of his mouth still remains even when he lets you go. "Thank me properly, princess."

"Will this nickname go on?"

He pushes a strand of your hair back your ear, "Now and forever." He pulls you in for a kiss again and you happily oblige.

.

When he is driving you back home, the dress packed in a bag and rests in the backseat. You are still smiling while looking out the window.

He keeps on taking secret glimpses of you once in a while. A thought stick his mind.

Sure, he never signed up for this but he is 100% sure that he made the perfect choice.

Either in dress or you.

He has made the perfect choice.

His hand involuntarily reaches for yours which rests on your thigh. Interlocking your fingers, he brings it up and brushes his lips on the back of your hand.

You take a peek at him which he returns it with a grin, his canines glinting in the dim light.

"Next time you go shopping, you are calling me."

A/N: There's a lack of Sukuna fluff in tumblr and I was in desperate need for some soft moments. Hence, I wrote this. Hope you liked it! Likes and comments are appreciated :)

[luv4kozume]

🍃 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 — CHRIS STURNIOLO

Dealer!Chris x GoodGirl!Fem!Reader

Contains: Swearing, mention of drugs ofc, pet names (baby, ma), teasing, praise, kinda rough!chris, blowjob, mouth fucking, head pushing, gagging, facial, cum eating, dealer with benefits. Not proof read!

Synopsis: A story in which Chris comes up with another way to pay him after you accidentally left your wallet at home.

Word Count: 1,777

a/n: SUPER LATE but here’s that Dealer!Chris w benefits for my babies that voted for it on my last poll! 🫣

*:･ﾟ✧ 💌 *:･ﾟ✧

“Shit.” You cursed under your breath.

Chris watched you with lazy eyes as you frantically fished through your purse. The noise of all your belongings rattled together as you mentally checked off everything you had.

Phone, keys, lipgloss, gum— everything was inside expect your fucking wallet. The most important thing. How’d that even slip your mind?

“What?” Chris muttered, his brows knitting in confusion.

You looked up at him through your lashes. You had come to him numerous times and always thought he was a bit attractive. But one thing Chris didn’t play about was his money.

You hadn’t experienced this first hand however, you liked to believe that he had a bit of a soft spot for you.

But there had been many times where you heard him cussing people out and sending out threats for them. Over what seemed like a small amount of money to you.

You couldn’t always tell if he was just being petty or if it truly just irked him to his core. Either way, you didn’t want to be in the receiving end of an angry drug dealer.

“Come on, spit it out.” Chris spoke a bit louder, his hands burying into his pockets of his sweats.

“I think I left… my wallet at home.” You say in a defeated tone that was nearly impossible for him to hear.

A frustrated sigh left from his lips, dropping his head down. Your hands fell to your sides, anxiously fiddling with the hem of your pleated skirt.

It felt like years of silence had passed before he finally spoke, “No money, no business.”

You watched in shock as he plopped down on the couch, sinking low into the plush cushions as if this was just a causal everyday experience.

“Chris, please.” You whined, walking over to him. He looked up at you as you hovered over him. “I need it!”

“And I need the money.” Chris replied nonchalantly with a shrug.

He himself was surprised that a girl like you would even be one of his biggest demanders. You were clean cut, well dressed, and was always sweet. Not your typical weed addict.

But he was clearly nobody to judge. At the end of the day it was truly none of his business.

You looked around the living room, so many thoughts running through your mind.

The suggestive words flew out of your mouth before you could even properly form them, “I’ll do anything.”

“Huh?” Chris replied with a perplexed expression. He certainly wasn’t expecting that. At least, not from you.

“Almost anything.” You mumbled in response, immediately regretting your poor choice of words.

His eyes ran along your curves, admiring the way your skirt draped just in the middle of your plush thighs. Your dainty hands still nervously fidgeting at the fabric.

He brought his attention back up to your face, yet avoiding your eyes at all costs as if you were going to turn him into stone.

He took in all your angelic features: your nose, your hair, your cheeks, and fuck— your lips.

Your lips drove him nearly insane. It was by far his favorite feature of yours, next to your ass.

Every time you spoke that’s all his eyes would avert to, he just couldn’t help himself. If he sees something he likes, he’s going to stare— simple.

He made this fact very obvious, and you had jokingly mentioned it a few times in the last. Only for him to nonchalantly brush it off as if it never happened.

But you were certain it was definitely happening right now.

He finally flickered his eyes up to meet your anxious gaze.

A gaze that made him want to pounce on you right then and have his way with you.

“Anything, right?” He smirked.

“I took it back. Almost anything.” You repeated.

“Oh, come on. Where’s the fun in that?” Chris retorted, adjusting himself onto the couch.

Your eyes couldn’t help but steal a glance down at his groin, his legs opened wide as he manspread. His black sweatpants hung low against his waist, exposing just a bit of his red boxers. As if inviting you to come closer.

You brought your eyes back up to his before asking, “What do you have in mind?”

“You’re a smart girl.” Chris replied, you could feel his eyes on your lips as he continued, “Figure it out.”

Your heart fluttered over just a few words. You opened your mouth to speak but a lump had got caught in your throat, unknowing what exactly you should say next.

You glanced down at his groin, a very obvious bulge growing in his pants.

“You want me to…” You began to say, the rest of the words nearly inaudible and your pointed down.

“Mhm.” He hummed, giving you a nod.

“And it’s guaranteed weed?” You protested, crossing your arms. You brought your eyes back up to his, scanning them to see if he had a trick up his sleeve. “You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Take it or leave it, baby. I’m good either way.”

After a short pause you finally gave in, “Fine.” You huffed out, dragging your feet against the floor; slowly making your way towards Chris.

He spread his legs further apart, allowing you more room to lower yourself in between them. Your knees press against the floor, resting your butt on the heels of your shoes.

The pads of your fingertips brushed along the soft fabric of his sweatpants, his dick twitching at your sweet touch.

You toyed with the knot of the drawstring before finally pulling it loose. Chris lifted up his hips from the couch, helping you tug down his pants and boxers in one move.

His dick excitedly leapt out, you blinked feeling the tip slapping onto your lips. His dick jumping as he chuckled at your reaction— he was certainly much larger than you intended.

“What are you laughing at?” You muttered, wrapping your fingers around the base of his hard cock as you glared up into his hooded eyes.

“You, baby.” Chris smirked, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “Gonna make me feel good with that pretty mouth?”

Your eyes shot opened and quickly shied away, embarrassed to all his attention. You adjusted your knees against the floor, titling your head over to the side and began peppering gentle kisses along his length.

“Shut up.” You slurred between kisses; starting at the base and finally reached the tip.

He hummed in amusement when your lips brushed against his most sensitive area, you could feel his veins throbbing against your hand as you continued kissing him. The smallest bit of precum oozing out from his slit, mixing with your saliva when you finally wrapped your lips around him.

“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath, tugging his bottom lip behind his teeth. Your tongue swirling slowly around his tip before sinking down as far as you could take him.

You were nearly halfway when his cock hit the back of your throat; causing you to moan against him. One hand stayed wrapped around the base as the other rested on his thigh.

Low moans and grunts spewed out from the man as you started to bob your head up and down at a generous pace.

“Holy shit, baby. Feels so good.” Chris groaned, throwing his head back, pleasure coursing through his veins. His hips began moving on their own, gently bucking up into your mouth as you continue bobbing.

His palm pressed against the back of your head, entangling his thick fingers in your hair. Slowly pushing you further and further onto his dick until you had swallowed him whole.

His dark hair tickled your nostrils as he kept you in that position, the sound of gagging on his cock was pure music to ears.

“So fucking gorgeous, ma.” Chris mumbled, as he began fucking into your mouth at a faster pace this time.

Your eyes screwed shut and your hands grabbed onto both his thighs for support as he used your mouth for his own satisfaction.

Saliva trickling down your chin, small droplets soaking into the carpet. Warm tears began welling your eyes, fluttering them open giving him a watery gaze that drove him crazy.

He only continued hitting the back of your throat with each brutal thrust, the sound of your choking and whining bounced off the walls.

Chris snapped back into reality once he heard a quiet sniffle, your nails digging into his skin. He quickly pulled out, a trail of spit connecting to your plump lips and his member.

“Too rough?” He ask in a husky breath. He leaned down to grab your chin forcing your eyes up into his as he wiped your tears with his other hand.

You yanked away from his touch, ignoring his question to immediately go straight back to sucking him off. He was thrown of guard but didn’t complain, he relaxed back into the cushions enjoying the beautiful sight in front of him.

“You liked it then, I assume.” Chris grinned, watching you with lustful eyes.

You hummed against his cock in response, not wanting to stop just to answer his very obvious question.

Your hand made it was back to down to his dick, jerking him off as you continued bobbing your head at a faster speed than before.

“Hmm, keep doing that and I’ma cum.” He groaned, his veins throbbing against your tongue. “You’d like that huh? Want me to cum all over that pretty face?”

Vibrations traveled throughout his body as you hummed against him again, refusing to pull away from his until you were rewarded with his seed. You continued slobbing all over his dick bubbles of saliva forming at the corners of your mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Chris grunted, curling his body into yours. He grabbed onto the base, quickly pulling out your mouth with a satisfying pop.

His nose scrunched up as he pumped his dick. His cheeks were flushed a deep red, matching the hue of his tip that throbbing each time his palm reached it.

You sat there on knees, mouth wide open and tongue out waiting eagerly— ready to swallow each drop of thick load.

“Fuckkkkk.” He muttered, squeezing the cum out of dick; completely painting your face white from your forehead down to your chin.

Your tongue flicked against your lips, licking some of the excess juices before leaving a soft kiss on the tip of dick; never breaking eye contact as you did so.

“How much did you say you wanted again?” Chris huffed out, referring to the weed.

You had nearly forgotten all about it.

📃 — taglist!

@bluesturniolo333 , @sturniolotripletsarehot , @cupidtoast , @mattsbratt , @hoesformatt , @mattgirly , @stellarsturns , @mattsturniolosgf333 , @mrssturnioloo , @sturniozo , @littlebookworm803 , @only4mattyb , @breeloveschris , @liz-stxrn , @strawberrysturniolo , @mangoposts , @enyaslover , @1horrormoviewhore1 , @whatever1021 , @mysterioussmae , @mattslolita , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniolopowers , @hercigaretteblush , @lovingmattysposts , @stardustmf444 , @lovesturns , @gigisworldsstuff , @crispylouis28 , @that-general-simp , @lustfulslxt , @ifilwtmfc , @chrislapdog , @sstvrnioloo , @angelic-sturniolos111 , @kvtie444 , @iwantyoualloverme12 , @sturniolosreads , @gamermattsgf , @luvmxtt , @kayannettesposts , @sophssturn , @isabellehoran , @kxnzxx , @sturniolowhore

©️ LUV4KOZUME 🦢

Navigation! ‧₊˚🥂✩ ₊

[gendercomsumer]

hiii ^^ I would like some headcanons for riddle, malleus, vil and rook with a fem mc that accidentally ends up making them laugh (because what she says or does is very random xd maybe an example would be like jennifer lawrence sjjs she is very funny ) well that's all, thanks and take care <3

Riddle, Malleus, Vil, and Rook with an S/O who can make them laugh with the most random things

A/N: Hello to you too Anon! I know this has been in my inbox for gods knows how long- But thank you still for sending this in! I hope this is to your liking! I actually did watch some Jennifer Lawrence videos for inspiration and I have to agree the comedic timing she has is perfect!! I also used some google translate in Rooks part so it may not be accurate ^^;

Characters: Riddle, Malleus, Vil, and Rook

Warnings: Cursing to a mild degree, playful mention of stalking in Rooks (I love him I swear!!!), lightly proof read

Fem!Reader

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle is a bit difficult to get a good genuine laugh out of, at least in my opinion.

Like sure you have a small chuckle when he finds something amusing, but i feel like it'd be a bit of a challenge to get a good genuine laugh out of.

Then you came in, saying the strangest things at the most unrelated times!

And Ace and Deuce find this absolutely hilarious

You'll say the most out of pocket shit with the straightest face and somehow half the people around you start to laugh some others breaking out in giggles

Ace and Deuce have definitely talked about this 'talent' of yours, at least in their words.

You had said some of these strange comments around Riddle and he found them strange a bit endearing as well

I'd think the time you got a good laugh out of him was when you had come with him to take care of some of the hedgehogs

The two of you were sitting in the grass some of the hedgehogs were playing while a few had decided that climbing on the two of you was a good way to pass the time

One had wandered up onto your head and almost fell off but luckily you were able to save the little guy before he fully hit the ground

After Riddle worriedly checked the little guy over you while looking over his shoulder at the small animal said:

"Well at least we know this one has no self preservation"

Unwillingly, or maybe subconsciously, a small laugh makes it's way through Riddles chest to his lips.

Well, now maybe he saw what those two were blabbering on about

Your little comments were always appreciated with Riddle

Even if they didn't cause him to laugh they did brighten his mood at least somewhat

"Yes, this one does tend to be a bit of a handful. Reminds me of a certain rose I know"

He teased before you two fell back into the pattern of caring for the small animals

More chuckles and comments to come no doubt

Malleus Draconia

At first Malleus didn't understand why the rest of Diasomnia found your remarks so comical

Yes his child of man did tend to bring a certain warmth where ever she walked

But he didn't see this as an excuse for the amount of laughter you cause people around you

Most of the remarks you make will fly over his head

I'm sorry but he seems like the kind of guy to not get the joke until you explain it to him-

Now the Thorn Prince does share a few chuckles with those around him when he finds something amusing, similar to Riddle

But it's even more difficult to get a laugh out of him considering he doesn't get a lot of the play on words type of jokes

but something abrupt and slightly out of context?

I feel like that would get some sort of laugh out of him

One day you were talking with Malleus about some of the things you did in your old world

The topic of amusement parks came up and you started listing the rides you used to go on as a child

Roller coasters, bumper cars, lazy rides where you could relax, until you blanked on the name of a ride

It was frustrating considering it was probably something simple and you would remember it after their conversation, but you wanted to keep the ball rolling

Malleus mean while was partly enjoying seeing how frustrated you got over a simple word

You really were a strange thing weren't you Child of man?

"I'm sorry Mal- I know what I'm thinking of! It's on the tip of my tongue- It's like one of those horse tornado things!"

Horse.. tornado..?

Now that got Malleus attention

he understood the other rides you described, favoring the lazy rides

but what ever this horse tornado was... it sounded.. strange, yet curious at the same time

"CAROUSELS!! FUCKING CAROUSELS, THAT'S WHAT THEY'RE CALLED!"

Malleus let out a small puff of air before he started chuckling under his breath

You truly were a strange one weren't you child of man, just like the world you came from

Malleus pressed a kiss to your forehead letting out one more chuckle before speaking

"Truly fascinating, maybe one day you could bring me to one of these 'horse tornados' you have me interested"

Sure jokes your fly over his head, but he would tease you some what for your small skips in memory

Vil Schoenheit

Now Vil, having acted in a lot of movies, (If I'm correct) Would have probably had a few good laughs in that line of work

Weather that be on set or behind the cameras

But he doesn't often let out a good laugh in public, it's not really part of the proper image he'd want to put out there

As for behind closed doors or with close friends he's definitely willing to have a laugh

And who better to bring a smile to his face than his lovely sweet potato?

Though one good moment always stuck out to him that caused him to have one of the most genuine laughs in awhile

The two of you were getting ready to go out to a fancy restaurant, courtesy of Vil of course, hair, makeup, shoes things like that

While Vil was sitting at his vanity working on his eyes when you came out of the bathroom in a stunning dress hand picked by Vil

It brought out all your best features while still being enough coverage to where it wasn't uncomfortable to wear into a public area

The two of you made idle conversation as you sat on a near by chair to slip on a matching set of heels for the dress

As you stood up in the heels to work on your own makeup you lost your balance thanks to the new height the heels provided

Although Vil was quick to catch you making sure you came no where near the floor he still was concerned

"Oh sweet potato are you alright? What happened?"

Yes looking back on it the question seemed dumb but he was concerned

but you just let out a giggle while regaining your balance before saying:

"Well I'm not sure what happened, but I remember wanting to yell 'fuck' as my last words before I embarrassed myself"

Vil took a moment while looking at you

then a chuckle escaped his lips which soon turned into the two of you sharing a small laugh

Now Vil doesn't know why he laughs at your antics, in hindsight they're just normal phrases

But maybe it's the delivery?

Or the way you smile at him?

What ever it may be it always causes a smile to grace his lips or a chuckle to be drawn from him

Sure Vil maybe all about preserving beauty and making sure he looks flawless

But if he happens to get a few smile lines because of your antics, he will never hold it against you

"Well my darling, I'm glad to hear you're alright. It would be a shame if you or your lovely dress got roughed up before we left. Now come, you still want to do your makeup don't you? Allow me to help"

Rook Hunt

Now Rook has plenty of laughs in his life

Weather that be from stalking some poor soul or a genuine laugh among friends

Rook out of the four is probably the easiest to get a laugh from

He's a joyful guy wanting to see all nature and the world has to offer! Can you blame him?

Then enters you who some how can't help but leave Rook giggling when ever you do something!

You put your tie on wrong? Oh silly Trickster aren't you just the sweetest thing!

Then comes your words which to Rook is a whole new ball park

Rook tends to hold onto every word meant for him, weather that be written or spoken out loud

His darling Tricksters words are so elegant and so sweet how could he not treasure everyone!

What really gets him chuckling and laughing is the moments when your words aren't as sweet and graceful

Cut to one day when you and Rook were in the fields often used for flying class

Rook had a desire to teach you archery so he happened to drag you along with a quiver and bow to some targets set by his hand

After the first few moments of Rook teaching you how to properly hold and aim the bow and making sure your arm guard was secure (He wouldn't want his darling trickster to get rope burn!) He let you shoot

All was going well as you hit targets in an... acceptable way

But all that seemed to end when a large gust of wind sent your best shot yet off course and into the ground

And just as Rook was about to offer some encouragement to keep going and try once more

some colorful language came from you to say the least

"Wind!? Really!?! Could you not wait two fucking minuets!! Nooooo! You just had to thro my best shot off course you-!"

Now don't get Rook wrong he hold the sweet words you two share close to his heart

But there was just something about you yelling at the wind of all things that caused him to start laughing

As he laid on the grass of the field eyes closed as he laughed

Oh? It seems your colorful language is directed towards him now? Even better!

"Trickster- reine de mon coeur! Please I believe- I believe you have shared plenty enough words with the wind today!"

A/N: This is actually the first time I've taken a good look at the name of Malleus' dorm. Dia = Dragon. Somnia = Sleep

Diasomnia = Dragon of sleep

just a ting i found silly :)

[ddejavvu]

lovesick!eddie swears his heart is about to absolutely explode when he wakes up to finding you humming in the kitchen while making breakfast. Also, lovesick!eddie has talked waynes ear off ab you sm he already starts saving for a wedding 🥹

From the second Eddie bursts through the trailer door, Wayne's digging through his pockets.

"Wayne," Eddie gushes, and the man's hands curl around a stray quarter, "You'll never believe what Y/N just did!"

"'She look at you?" Wayne looks up from where he's wrestling with a penny that doesn't want to come free from where it's tucked under his wallet. Eddie doesn't even take it as a jibe, shaking his head so that his curls go flying everywhere.

"No, I mean- like, yes, but that's not why I'm like this! She bought my favorite flavor of chapstick," He boasts, chest puffed out in pride, "She knows! She knows me 'n she wants me to, like, like her!"

"Yes," Wayne hums, like it's the simplest thing in the world, "That's what'cha do when you're datin' someone. You do things they like."

"I- I know but.. You just don't get it!" Eddie's eyes are shining and Wayne swears he's never looked less intimidating, even with the chains on his belt and the devil on his shirt, "It's big! It's huge," He stresses, and Wayne finally balls up the change in his hands, "It's perfect. She's perfect."

"Happy to hear it, son." Wayne smiles, his voice gruff. He brings the fistful of change over to the table beside the couch, dropping it into a jar where it clinks against a substantial pile of other grungy coins.

"Starting a swear jar, are you?" Eddie breaks out of his lovesick trance only to tease his uncle, "Great fuckin' idea."

"Not a swear jar," Wayne shakes his head, trying not to let on how amused he is by Eddie's brazen quips, "Marriage jar."

"Marriage," Eddie's brows furrow, "Who's getting married? Oh my god, did Ms. Nelson finally call you? Jesus, I gave her the number weeks ago and I thought she'd never use it! For someone so desperate for a washing machine repairman she was real skittish about asking you. Must be your rugged good looks," Eddie knocks his foot into Wayne's where it stretches out on the carpet before him, a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Not me," Wayne finally lets himself laugh, nearly kicking Eddie back, "You. You and Y/N," He explains, taking a sip of the beer he's holding, "Every time you come around here talkin' about how the sun shines 'out her ass, I drop my loose change in. Reckon' I can pay for a nice wedding in a week if you keep this up."

It's the first time he's ever seen Eddie speechless. The boy usually has many words to say about any given situation, most of them unsuited for young children. But now he's gaping at Wayne like a fish, a mix of horror and gratitude swirling in his eyes.

"You- You're, like, thinking about that? Our marriage, that is?"

"'Course I am," Wayne laughs gruffly, "I see the way you look at each other. I'm not married m'self, but I know when two people will be."

The atmosphere of the trailer is no longer euphoric or teasing, it's shifted from both to become epiphanic. Eddie lets Wayne's words sink in, blinking slowly as he tries gathering the words.

All he manages is a gentle, sincere, "Thanks, Wayne."

Wayne understands.

"Of course, son."

[charmercharm3r]

Make Love, Not Porn

Heat Signature

HHJ

Masterlist, Story Masterlist

18+ content — minors, do not interact

wc: 5.9k

Synopsis: You crave a life of normalcy, he craves you. And he'd do anything to keep you, even if you're for the world to see

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, barista!hyunjin x camgirl!reader, masturbation (m, f), teasing, cum eating, (slight) orgasm denial, (also -ish) voyeurism, (not a warning but) open conversations about sex, he’s a little shit but also just a fanboy

Past Broadcasts : Play Time!

Live : Heat Signature

Next Scheduled Broadcast : Puppeteer

☆ﾟ

He waited for you.

He waited and waited and waited, for days until he’d finally given up hope that you were going to show face again.

Hyunjin wasn’t even sure you were from the area. For all he knew, you lived a few hours plane ride away. There was no way for him to know.

He’d thought about you every day since, watched every stream and used most of his tips and paycheck to tip you so that you’d remember who he was. It worked, whenever the dinging noise from other patrons tipping died down, there was a moment where he’d rapid fire click the button and you’d know, it was him.

The day after seeing you in person, Hyunjin barely had the mind to put your image down onto paper to immortalize. His minor hobby in doodling came in handy when there was downtime during his shift at the coffee shop. There was an unlimited supply of blank coffee cup sleeves and markers, enough room for his artistic freedom to run wild with images of you and your pretty hands, heavenly voice that he’s been encapsulated with ever since.

Hyunjin kept his doodles in his apron pocket with him at all times. If anyone were to ever see them he swears he’d burst into flames out of embarrassment. How is he stumbling beneath his own feet over someone he’s met once?

But it doesn’t feel like you’ve only met once, he feels like he’s known you for a lifetime. The way you spoke during your cams, you were speaking to him. You had to be. You had to have seen him.

The voice in his head had Hyunjin summing up your absence to the fact that you were simply too busy for coffee. Yeah, that was what he chose to believe, definitely not the fact that he was acting literally insane and scared you into never setting foot in their store ever again.

The universe was listening to him, today of all days. Another early morning and he hadn’t even noticed you walk in at first, after two weeks he’d given up on hoping you’d come back. Imagine his surprise when he’s put on the register and sees you walk up to the counter.

“Ice– iced chai and three blonde shots, right?”

You were taken aback, you’d hadn’t been here in a while, two weeks to be exact. What was this cute, strange barista doing memorizing your order? And why is he looking at you like he’s picturing you naked?

“Yeah,” you replied slowly, narrowing your gaze at his pretty features.

He really was weird, his hands were shaking as he input your order, as he took your card and handed it back. When he was done ringing you up, he didn’t hand you the receipt but rather stared at you again. “Are you okay…” you glanced at his name tag, “Hyunjin?”

Oh, his cock twitched.

Be fucking normal. She’s just a person, for fucks sake. Stop being a weirdo. God, you’re embarrassing. 

“Y— yeah! It’s just…” Hyunjin’s heart sped up. This was his opportunity to ask you out, compliment you… But instead he asks, “can I have a name for the order?”

That wasn’t what you were expecting. For a second your heart stopped thinking that he had recognized you… Again, impossible, you had been too careful to let anything slip.

“You know my order but not my name?” A dry laugh and awkward but relaxed shrug, you tell him your name and the barista lets out a little inaudible stutter, a small smile spreading across your lips at his endearing reaction,

His head raised to meet your gaze again, “it’ll be out in a minute, pretty.”

Ballsy. Fucking ballsy. You have the most massive pair ever. Wait, she smiled… She smiled?? She’s still smiling? Oh, she’s walking away… I think that worked?

Why were you smiling? And why was your tummy fluttering? A cute barista complimenting you? That was nothing in comparison to the millions of adoring words you receive through your social media and live streams. So why was he any different? Stop smiling, you look stupid.

It really only took a minute, true to Hyunjin’s words. You didn’t expect him to be the one holding your drink at the pick up counter, the way your name rolling off his tongue making your adrenaline rush. 

What you didn’t see was him forcing his closest coworker to stand on register so he could be the one to make your drink. The finishing touch was the real kicker. Though it was a cold drink, Hyunjin fished out one of the doodled cup sleeves, the best one he’d drawn, and shyly wrote on the side of it before slipping it on and calling your name. He tried to hide his excitement and nervousness by trilling his voice a little more sing-song to get your attention.

You walked a little too fast towards the black haired barista, catching yourself and slowing as you came closer. He had a smirk that made your knees wobble just a tad bit before he held the drink out for you. Both your eyes met as you grazed his fingertips to pass over the cup, a shot of warmth shooting up your arm with a tingle as he lingered.

“Thank you, Hyunjin.”

“My pleasure, Y/N.”

Just the way he said your name made you want to fold in half. Maybe let him fold you in half. Definitely let him fold you in half. 

You hadn’t taken a sip of the drink until you got home, too giddy the entire walk to do anything but clutch it in your hands. But when you did sip on it, you verbally let out a, “mmm!” to no one but yourself.

Hours had gone by of you doing your regular chores and such that you do on your off days. Dirty clothes in the laundry, groceries were put away, now would be a good time to prepare dinner. You had just tossed the now empty to go cup in the trash when the smeared ink on the cardboard cup sleeve caught your eye. You had to dig it out of the trash, but it didn’t seem much out of order other than the wet marks from the earlier drink’s condensation.

There was a drawing, smudged but definitely still there. A small drawing of a girl’s side profile with fingers pressed to her lips like she was holding a cigarette, except she wasn’t. She’s simply touching her lips, depicted in a way that made her look so delicate despite the harsh black ink that carved her into the cardboard. She was pretty. It was probably his girlfriend, more than likely he didn’t think about what sleeve he grabbed and rushed to cup your drink with the one he’d drawn her on. Why did that make your stomach sink a little?

Still, it was a nice drawing. As you slipped it off the cup, you saw the words that made your stomach entirely fall out of your ass.

Sweetheart. 

Hyunjin waited again for you to return. When you didn’t the next day he was sure he scared you off. There was a reason you remained anonymous, to avoid situations exactly like this one. He just couldn’t help himself. If you freaked out, he’d act clueless and make an excuse to say it was only a cute nickname. He hoped you wouldn’t take it like that, however the fact that it took you another week and a half to come back to the coffee shop told him that was probably what you thought.

You avoided his gaze when you came into the shop for the third time. There was no line for once, but then again, it was way past the morning when you’d come the first few visits. 

Hyunjin’s breath hitched when you came straight up to the counter and met his eyes timidly, darting around as if you were scared to truly look at him.

“The usual?” He asked, hoping the sincerity in his voice would ease your clear distress.

“N— no�� No drink…” Your words trailed off and Hyunjin felt himself starting to panic.

“I’m not a stalker, I swear. I just really… admire your work? For lack of a better phrase.” The genuineness could be felt in the air between you, and it made you want to trust him. But still, there’s always lingering doubt.

You lowered your voice and held out the doodled cup sleeve, “maybe you should keep the drawings of your girlfriend somewhere you won’t give to someone else you’ve seen naked.”

“What?” Hyunjin stared at you, blinking soullessly.

He had expected you to yell at him, scream, make a scene and call him all kinds of names. This was not on his bingo card.

“Your… your girlfriend?” You raised up the drawing and he laughed. A full belly laugh that made his shoulders shake and luscious black hair fall into his handsome, handsome face. “I’m very confused right now.”

“Oh, you’re so pretty.”

“I don’t know you well enough for you to be making fun of me.” 

“I’m off in thirty minutes. Wanna get coffee?” It was your turn to stare blankly at him. He smiled again shyly, “barista joke, forget it. But seriously, can we… maybe talk?”

“You just wanna talk?”

“Yeah.”

“…Alright.”

“I’ll call your name when your drink’s ready.”

“I didn’t order—“

“On the house,” Hyunjin leaned both hands into the counter, tipped his head slightly down, and smirked. Like a fucking player. That stupid smile, you don’t even know the guy and still want to simultaneously kiss him and slap that grin off his face. A frown and a nod, you sit at an empty table in the corner.

Less than five minutes later, Hyunjin is walking over to you with the drink in hand and he takes the open seat across from you.

“Aren’t you still working?”

“You’re the only one here.” You glance around the room, the shop is completely empty. 

“A filthy blonde chai, plus one more shot.” The drink is slid over to you by large, polished hands. “I’m not sure what they call a triple espresso chai… Most people usually stop at two. But, I don’t think you’re like most people.”

“Only a barista would use that line.”

“Honestly, I’m shitting bricks just sitting in front of you and I’m so glad I can barely hear myself over the music in this place because I wanted to melt into the floor as soon as I said it.”

The way he spoke was cute, like he couldn’t get himself to stop talking. “Are you fangirling right now?”

Hyunjin’s ears tinted a bright red and felt his cheeks flush with warmth. “Yeah, a little.”

“Over a pornstar?”

“To be fair you’re not a pornstar, you're a camgirl.”

“I don’t think that makes it any better.”

“For me or you?”

“…Both, I guess.”

He bit his plush bottom lip before letting slip from between his teeth, simply looking at you. “If it makes you feel better, you’re the only one I follow.”

It took you a minute to sit with that information, the entire ordeal was strange and you weren’t entirely sure what compelled you to come back to the shop in the first place. Within your silence, nothing actually processed in your head, there were no thoughts. Your career required you to be strategic as one wrong move could bring everything crashing down. As you sat in front of Hyunjin, the awkwardly suave, raven haired barista that makes a mean triple blonde chai, you realized how much you liked not having to think. 

“You’re the only one I watch, actually,” he continues to ramble in the lingering silence. “There really isn’t anything else– or, anyone else that I want to watch. That sounds… really gross now that I’m saying it out loud… I’m sorry, I’m– you make me really nervous. I don’t even know why, I don’t even know you. I mean, I do know you, but I only just met you. A– and I only knew who you were because of your voice. The way you speak– I love the sound of it. I could listen to you talk all day.”

You only stared at him with an unreadable expression, keeping your heart-fluttered cards close to your chest. “That does make me feel a little better,” you admitted softly. “But you’re not a stalker?”

Hyunjin leaned onto his elbows on the table. Even sitting and slouching, he had to look down at you. “Sweetheart, you walked into my shop, remember? I’ve been working here longer than you’ve been streaming. You came to me.”

Not. A. Single. Thought. 

How quickly he could go from a stuttering mess to acting like a cocky jackass gave you whiplash, you literally couldn’t predict what would come out of his mouth next. All that made your brain totally empty, words couldn’t form in your mouth to respond back.

Hyunjin reached across the table for where your hands played with the cup sleeve. His touch made warmth flood through your skin, up your arms and into your cheeks. He took the cardboard and held it next to your reddening face. “You really couldn’t tell?”

“I can tell that you should probably inform your girlfriend of the massive crush you have on a camgirl.”

He huffed and leaned back in his chair, tossing the cup sleeve between the two of you. “It’s not my girlfriend. It’s you.”

“What?! I don’t look like that!” You grabbed the drawing to examine closer, still not seeing the comparison. 

“You look exactly like that! Maybe the marker I used was too thick, but it’s definitely you.”

“No, I mean this girl is… It’s not me.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Your head shot up to look at him. Was he really agreeing with you right now? “You’re waaay prettier than this. I had only seen you one time when I drew it, didn’t get to really look at your features. Was kinda starstruck, ya know?”

“...The more you talk, I can’t tell what you want from me.”

“Why do I have to want something from you to get to know you?”

What was his deal? Was he dense? Was there a sign on your back that said, “fuck with me?” This was a joke and no one was laughing but him. There was no reason for him to want to even talk with you, there had to be another reason. It didn’t make any sense.

“Everyone wants something. What do you want?”

Hyunjin leaned further forward and stared straight into your eyes, “to know you.”

How badly did you want to look away, but Hyunjin made it so hard. He kept the eye contact so steady, blindly reaching for your hand across the table and simply holding your fingertips with his, hardly even touching and the combination was still so deadly. His thumb rubbed lightly over your knuckles and you couldn’t help but lean in closer to him as well, furrow in his brow from the seriousness turn the conversation has taken only deepening.

He couldn’t read you as much as he tried. There was your poker face you’d mastered after the last person you’d cared about enough to take back to your showroom. Hyunjin didn’t know that, or even needed to know that, but you were weirdly comfortable around him. As uncanny as everything leading up to this was, your mouth moved on its own.

“Why do you deserve to?”

“Someone hurt you… badly, didn’t they? So much that you’re questioning why I want to know you as a person and not just a body.”

“Why do you keep talking like you know my life story? You don’t know me!”

“That’s kinda the whole point. I want to! You keep saying I don’t know you, so let me!” His voice raised slightly as yours did, mimicking your frustration.

And honestly, you couldn’t blame him. You were being annoying about this on purpose, you needed to push his buttons to see if he was going to be true to his word. If he wasn’t he’ll bow out quick after realizing you’re not worth all the effort. If he is… you hope for your heart he isn’t. But you want it so badly at the same time, you crave it. You’ve dreamed and fantasized of someone wanting you and only you, doing everything in their power to keep you, cherish you, make you feel so loved that they’d die if they couldn’t tell you that you meant more than the world to them. The kind of love that most people in your line of work gave up on a long time ago.

That’s the goal, isn’t it? To be loved? That’s what’s supposed to be the end game. If everyone is after it, why isn’t it easier to find? 

“I have a livestream in two hours…” your voice quivered. Why were you telling him this?

“You do…” his was steady. Why is he still holding your hand?

“I want to trust you.” You wanted to hide under a rock. Why do you like him holding your hand?

“You’re doing the best you can.” He seems so honest. Why are you still scared?

“You get one chance. If you’re serious, maybe I’ll keep you around.” His smile is so sweet. What is happening?

“That’s all I need.”

Fuck, he’s here. Why is he in your apartment? Why did you bring him back here? Stupid, stupid, stupid. You were already regretting it when you led him through the threshold and removed your shoes. He complimented your place, said it smelled nice. That’s a good sign, but this was out of your comfort zone.

Way, way, waaay out of your comfort zone.

Is this self-destructive? It is, yet you’re doing it anyway. You already broke rule number 4: don’t give everything all at once. You bulldozed through it, actually, dust and cement and rubble in the wake of your metaphorical path to lead him into your home and towards your showroom.

You led him towards the bed that was to the side of your streaming desk so you could see him past the monitors. Hyunjin was hesitant and sat as close to the edge as possible. As you say next to him, you could smell the coffee that seemed to seep from his pores, bitter but still sweet, energizing but would let it lull you to sleep. His gaze didn’t stray around the room, he didn’t even bother looking at your set up, focused on the way your shoulders relaxed and looked to be slightly less timid.

Hyunjin didn’t know where to put his hands, keeping them in his lap as you reached up to tuck his hair behind his ear. “Why am I here, Y/N?”

“You’re going to help me.” His eyes grew wide in shock, mouth parting slightly. “Not like that, get your mind out of the gutter.” The force of which he closed his mouth made his teeth audibly knock together. 

Hyunjin wanted to melt under the sudden intensity of your gaze, still playing with the tips of his hair at the nape of his neck while staring at him like a lion to a gazelle. “You get to look, but not touch… me.”

His eyebrows shot up, “what?”

“You heard me,” you leaned in closer, so close he could feel your warm breath on his cheek. Hyunjin was frozen solid and you haven’t even done anything yet, but he was ready to do anything you asked him to. Into his ear, you whispered, “look, no touching.”

It was just a peck. A simple peck of your lips to his cheek, that was all and it made Hyunjin��s entire body shake out of excitement. He got hard instantly and tried to adjust his pants so you couldn’t see the very obvious tent. Not for his efforts, you saw anyway and giggled. Oh, your laugh was so pretty, so innocent sounding despite the very unholy acts you were about to participate in. The same unholy acts he was about to participate in, too.

“Is this okay?” You asked, lips still close to his cheek. Hyunjin nodded rapidly, wanting to turn so you’d kiss him for real. “I need you to tell me, with your words, baby.”

“Y— yes, more.” There was a shudder in his voice, a very obviously excited one at that. 

You placed another gentle kiss to his cheek, “more what?”

Hyunjin leaned in so you were cheek to cheek, “more kisses, please.”

“What’s got you so worked up? Haven’t done anything,” you cooed back, threading your fingers through his hair and his entire body shivered. “You like when I call you baby?”

He nodded again and leaned into your hand, the only downside of that was it pulled his face from yours. Hyunjin debated on cupping your cheek, but you’d said no touching and he wanted to be good for you. Even though his first instinct was to reach out, he stayed put, letting that energy flow into gripping the sheets below him. 

You didn’t pull his hair, didn’t do anything but keep your hand tangled in it but the feeling made him shut his eyes. You were really here, holding him like this, talking to him the way he’d always imagined. The fact that you even considered giving him the time of day made him wonder if this was real life anymore.

“I thought you would. You’re my favorite, too.”

Hyunjin couldn’t stop himself, you were saying all the right words. He pulled away for a split second to look at

you in awe, then crash his lips against yours in a fevered kiss, searing hot and so, so needy. He whined into your mouth, completely lost in the sensation while you were taken slightly by surprise. Not in a bad way, you were just happy he’d been able to restrain himself for this long in the first place.

You kissed him back, just for a second before tearing him away by the back of the hair. Caught off guard, he softly whimpered at the harshness, then tried to follow your lips again but was unable. “No touching. If you can’t follow directions—“

“I can, I can! I promise.”

Huffing, you tossed him back to lay his head into the pillows. A devious smile played along his lips as his heart rate slowed again, “you liked it, though. I felt you kiss me back.”

You raised an eyebrow, moving to kneel onto the mattress beside him. “Hm, I can’t recall.”

It stung his heart a little, but he knew it was just an act. It was your way of riling him up.

You didn’t touch him now, there was still a few centimeters of space between your bodies and he could still feel your lips on his. His chest leveling out, erection in his pants painfully throbbing in his jeans, looking up at you with the best puppy dog eyes he could conjure, Hyunjin could die happy if you pat his back like after a sports match and sent him home.

But you didn’t. You didn’t move, you just looked at him. It made him slightly nervous only because he couldn’t be sure what you were thinking.

Hyunjin sat up on his elbows, “what are you gonna do to me?” Not an ounce of fear in his voice, pure curiosity and anticipation.

“I’m not gonna do anything.” His eyes followed you as you stood to walk towards your computers. It wasn’t until now did he see you sit in the chair he’d been watching you in since the start of your career. Seeing it in person made his chest feel warm, like knowing this bit of information was as if he’d truly been with you this entire time from the start.

You didn’t look at him as you typed at your computer for a moment, clicking the mouse a few times, and suddenly Hyunjin’s phone went off. He fished it out of his pocket to find a notification from that godforsaken website, “live soon, hardcandysweetheart: heat signature.”

“Am I gonna be on—“

“No, I wouldn’t throw you to the wolves like that.”

“…What does heat signature mean?”

“Our little secret,” you made your way back to the bed, taking your spot next to Hyunjin once more. This time, though, your hand was placed next to his thigh, a little too close for comfort. Softly did your fingers play with the hem, Hyunjin darted his eyes down then back up to your face, feeling his chest heating up again. “No one knows that I’m not alone. No one knows I have you here with me, watching me, drooling over me. You’re the only one that gets to see everything. Straight into to the warmest parts of me.”

All the blood he had left in his head rushed straight to his cock, making Hyunjin even harder, if that was possible. “Please, touch me,” he found himself begging.

The laugh you let out was menacing, it made him cower back slightly. “You’re brave, I’ll give you that. But no. I want you to touch yourself for me.”

“What?” Hyunjin asked louder, a little more embarrassed now that you’d furrowed your brows at him and tilted your head. His chest deflated at your clear annoyance.

“It’s a very intimate thing,” you started, softening your eyes as his pride crumbled little by little. “Sometimes, I think it’s more intimate than sex itself, showing your partner how you like to be pleasured. It’s the key to a person’s body and mind. If you know what place to touch, how to touch them, they’re yours. If you make them cum, you own them.”

Well when you explain it like that, Hyunjin can’t help but feel sorry for snapping. It makes sense to him, “knowledge is power.”

“Knowledge is power. Sex is more than physical. It’s emotional, mental— it’s everything before the clothes come off and everything after you both cum. If you feel seen, then your partner is doing something right.”

A few silent seconds, you could tell he understood by the way he was looking at you; ready to comply with any request. Hyunjin loved the way you talk so freely about sex, like it was just another conversation because it is. It’s nothing to be ashamed about and it’s not taboo. Your nonchalant, yet very caring attitude about the topic of sex made him feel more comfortable than any ex partner ever had when he was actually naked in front of them.

“Can I take my pants off now?”

You rolled your eyes, “keep your underwear on.”

Hyunjin thought he was fast before, this was a new record. Clothes were off in the blink of an eye— at least, his were. You eyed him up and down as he stripped and stood at the foot of the bed for your next instruction. “On your back.” He clambered onto the bed, not even caring that you were still fully dressed and he was in nothing but his boxers.

“Close your eyes.” He did. But only after he took a long, adoring stare into yours. “Did kissing me get you this hard, baby?” Hyunjin nodded, clawing at the sheets to keep himself contained.

You chuckled softly, “that makes me happy. This should be easy for you, then.” The bed shifted beside him and suddenly heat was swallowing him whole. Your breath tickled his neck, feeling you sitting closer to his head as you continued to talk to him. “When I first saw you, I didn’t think anything of it.”

What a boner killer. Not his boner, though.

“Then when you smiled at me, I thought it was just to get you some extra tips. Clearly, it worked. This is a pretty big tip. You have such a pretty smile.” Hyunjin’s hips kicked up just slightly. He couldn’t see it, but you were smirking at how easy he was to work up.

“Such a pretty smile, but such a dirty mind. I wanna know,” your lips pressed against the shell of his ear. “Tell me, baby. What do you think about when you touch yourself?”

“You,” he answered immediately, fighting the urge to palm at his twitching dick.

Gently as not to startle him, you unclenched his hands from the sheets and moved them towards where he needed it most, keeping your hands to yourself as soon as he got the idea.

“Me? That’s sweet,” you were sincere, flattered. “What about me?”

Hyunjin rubbed the heel of his palm hard into his cock through the thin fabric. There was already a darkening wet patch, your mouth watered at how much he was leaking. You couldn’t lie to yourself, he was big. Not so much girth, but just the right width with a little extra length and it made your pussy clench at the prospect of what could be. 

“Mmph— your hands. So pretty, want them around my throat.” Just the light graze of your fingernails raking across his neck made Hyunjin buck up into his own hands. “An— and your thighs. Looks so soft, I wanna bite into them.”

“And mark me up? Wanna leave pretty bruises for everyone to see?”

“Fuck, yes!” He pressed harder, resisting from sticking his hand down his pants. Obviously, you couldn’t have that, you were in a time crunch.

“Underwear off.”

“Thank god,” he rushed to shove them down, not even past his knees before he grabbed his cock and began to tightly fist himself.

There was a messy coating of precum over the tip, glistening in the soft warm pink and yellow mood lighting. He really did have a pretty cock, assumptions right in that he was perfectly proportioned with girth and length, looking oh-so-suckable.

“Fuck, keep talking. Please.”

“What is it about me that really gets you off? Hm? You like how amateur and naïve I act? Or is it that you can imagine any girl’s face when I touch myself?”

“No, no,” he whined, tightening his first around the upper half of his dick, short but hard ruts into the fleshy ring. 

“No? Then what is it, baby?”

“Your voice— god, fucking hell. The way you speak, the way you talk like you’re only talking to me. Like you only want me, that there’s no one else that you need and I’m the only one who can make you feel so fucking good— fuck!”

He was leaking more and more to puddle onto his abdomen. You reached over to dip the tip of your finger into it, swirling around in the mess before bringing the coated digit back up to his mouth. “Open.” He did, and closed as soon as he felt your finger press onto his tongue. Hyunjin moaned at the taste of himself, not at all put off but rather throbbing even harder.

“What would you do to me if I gave you the chance?” You asked quietly, genuinely curious as he swirled his tongue around your cleanly-licked finger. 

The question erupted a louder groan from deep within his chest, hardly muffled by the weight on his tongue. You stole it away so he could talk, secretly putting it into your mouth as his eyes were still closed to get a little glimpse more of what he tastes like. 

“Make you be a little pillow princess at first. Wouldn’t let you lift a finger and kiss you everywhere. Hard.” You liked that idea, pressing your legs together. “Wanna taste your pussy so bad. I’d eat you out until you’d be begging for me to stop and fuck you. No, I wouldn’t. I’ll feast on you for as long as I fucking want— only if you use your safe word would I stop.” He murmured that last part a little softer. How sweet.

Hyunjin sped up his movements, gathering the leaking fluids to use as lubricant and letting the wet sounds fill the room.

“Would you make me cum?” It was an innocent question.

“Would I?” But he took offense to it. “I’d make you cum all night long if you wanted. With my mouth— in my mouth. On my cock, make you hump my thigh like you do with those stupid fucking toys. God, I hate them and I love them, they always make you cum so hard. I can do that, too. I can make you cum so hard you’ll never wanna come back down. Fucking shit, want you to ride my thigh so badly. Want you to wanna fuck me all day, everyday, want you to think of me the way I think of you.”

His stomach was tensing, reaching down with the other hand to fondle his balls. You watched every one of his movements, memorized the places he reacted to the most. It seemed the tip was clearly the most sensitive, but he liked just the quick swipes over it, probably too sensitive for his own good. But then his grip would tighten just under it, fucking the ring of his fingers like it was a pocket pussy. He tugged at his balls, rolling them in his palm and arching into the bed. You wondered how long until he was ready to blow.

“I want that.” Your admittance made him peek open his eyes slightly. You didn’t scold him for disobeying, instead keeping the eye contact and moving off the bed. 

Hyunjin watched as you stripped your top off facing him, then your bottoms to reveal a cute light purple set. Nothing too fancy, but so suited to you it made his mouth drool over the way the strappy underwear hugged your love handles.

“But I have a job to do. So you’re gonna keep quiet for me, okay?” He sat up, slowing down his motions but not stopping.

Hyunjin was in awe. Mindless, jaw dropping awe in how easily you stripped in front of him. He never thought the act of you taking off a shirt in front of him would have him almost cumming instantly. Of course he’s seen you naked, but this was domestic. This was nothing any of your viewers has ever seen. Was he being a creep? Maybe, but you liked the way he was looking at you. He hasn’t been shy about wanting you, but how he couldn’t take his eyes off you now, it made the twisting in your belly churn tighter and brighter. 

Thankfully your computer was already on, you didn’t have to look away from Hyunjin and his pretty cock. Just one click and you’re live.

But you waited. You waited for him to get closer to the edge. He needed a little push. 

Taking your hand away from the mouse, you instead brought your knees up and rested your feet onto the chair to expose your core. With two fingers, you ran them over the gusset of your soaked panties, a visibly dark patch clear for Hyunjin to see.

His eyes rolled back and sped up the jerking movements, the loud slick noises echoing in the small room. Just the sound of him made you gush, so close to skipping your livestream just to fuck him into tomorrow.

No. Self control. Just this once.

You rubbed yourself a little harder over the fabric, waiting for the right moment. When his mouth dropped and let out a small whimper, you quickly closed your legs and turned back to the computer.

“Quiet now, baby. Relax and enjoy, but don’t make a sound.”

“Fuck— wait, I’m gonna cum—“

You quickly adjusted the camera and clicked, start live. 

“Have I kept you waiting long?”

☆ﾟ

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @alexis-reads-fics @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @goblinracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut

[catcze]

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

「 ### : 」 Modern AU ish !! GN Reader gets drunk at the club !! But Navia and Clorinde stay with you through it tho, because they're your good friends !! This is literally just humor and reader not recognizing Wrio but gushing over your husband so so much !! Reader swears when drunk bc same lmao

Had a vision. No editing. Feast on this while I feast on my Nissin Bulalo cup noodles.

The moment Wriotheseley steps into the club, he immediately spots you. Even over the painful strobing lights, the sea of dancing bodies, he can single you out a mile away— regardless of the fact that you're slumped over the bar, drunk out of your mind.

"Navia, Clorinde," he greets with a wave, hurrying over. His voice has to be almost a yell to be heard over the loud music.

They sit on either barstool beside you, bracketing you between them. When he approaches, Clorinde hands him your phone, and he knows who he has to thank for the 'come pick your bae up' text. The moment he's close enough, he's already looking you over, making sure you're alright.

"Sweetheart," Wriothesley tries to rouse you, but you just mumble and splay out further on the bar. Your hand knocks into a mostly-emptied glass of what he can only assume was tonight's poison of choice.

"How many—"

"More than five," Navia tells him, grinning sheepishly, just as Clorinde says, "Nine."

Your husband shakes his head fondly, sighing, and turns back to you. "Sweetheart," he tries again, voice a bit louder. He places a heavy hand on your waist, coaxing you up. "Let's g—"

But at the touch, your eyes —still hazy and unfocused on account of the nine drinks you've had— shoot open, and you whirl on him in your seat. If not for the hold he still keeps on your hip, you may have just toppled over. There's a look of unbridled, drunken rage on your face, more comical than actually terrifying.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" you hiss, slurring, as you wrench his hand off of you and fling it away with such contempt that he has to stifle a laugh. "Keep your hands off of the masterpieces, bucko."

Not even giving him a moment to breathe, you shove your left hand in his face, vehemently pointing at the ring that sits on your fourth finger. "I! Am! Married! If I tell my husband that you're out here getting handsy, he's gonna come and kick your ass sooo hard. He's gonna rock your shit, you trick ass bitch, if i don't do it myself!"

Wriothesley shouldn't find this funny— he shouldn't. But Navia and Clorinde and fighting smiles behind their palms themselves, and he can't help the grin that breaks across his face.

"Oh? Is your husband that strong?" He can't help but ask, and you scoff.

"Is he that strong— you wanna find out for yourself? Huh? Wriothesley could— could—" you hiccup, and he has to fight the urge to coo. "He could knock you out with just a flick of his fingers, you know!"

"And is your Wriothesley more handsome than me?"

You turn your nose up at him, scowling. Once, twice, you try to cross your arms in contempt as you drunkenly look him up and down.

"You're alright," you begrudge, "but my Wriothesley is the— the most handsomest man in the world! The fucking prettiest! No one holds a candle to my husband and his broad shoulders and his thick thighs and his... and his adorable smile."

Wriothesley has to bite his lip to control his grin. Navia is fighting for her life to stifle her giggles, and Clorinde hides her amused smile behind a cough.

It's like that loosened your tongue though, and you continue on, oblivious to the embarrassment you'd face the next morning.

"And he— he'll be very upset when he finds out that you're here, hitting on someone who is very happily married to one of the best men on this side of the fucking galaxy, so— so you can fuck off!"

He really, really tries his best to not laugh.

You huff, patting down your pockets and grumbling incoherently about your phone, not even questioning it when Wriothesley hands it back to you himself. It takes only a second of you furiously tapping your screen before his own phone buzzes in his pants.

[Sweetheart ♡]

babe pookie pick e ip plrase im drunk and i wanna go homd snd yhere's this assholr hitting o me love yoy [location attached]

As soon as the texts go out though, you yawn and the energy leaves you in one fell swoop. Wriothesley manages to catch you before you face plant back on the bar and break your nose, maneuvering you to lean into his chest. The fight escaping you, you nuzzle into his black button up, rubbing your face against him like a big cat.

"Mmm. I know that cologne." Blearily, you look up and make eye contact with those pretty, pretty blue eyes, and your face immediately lights up in the most delighted grin. "Wrio!" you gasp, arms coming to wrap around his waist and pull him towards you. You're still drunk, still pretty out of it, but it melts his heart how overjoyed you are to see him.

"Hi sweetheart," he says fondly, running a hand through your hair. Happily, you lean into his touch. "Have a fun time with Navia and Clorinde?"

"Mhm. Missed you though." Then, your eyes pop open and you sit up, looking around furiously as if you're looking for someone. When you don't find this person, you lean in to whisper conspiratorially in his ear— "There was this guy who tried to make the moves on me, you know! But I told him that I'm super duper married and with the bestest husband ever— if you wanna double team him, I'm sure the guy's around here somewhere."

But your husband just chuckles, pulling you back into his embrace. Smoothly, Wriothesley has you wrap your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist so he can easily pick you up and into his arms.

"You two need a ride home?" He asks the two, but they shake their heads.

"Appreciated, but we only split a drink between us," Clorinde says, already standing up alongside Navia. "We'll be fine."

"Get home safe, you two!" The blonde says, waving you off, and that's that.

Wriothesley easily maneuvers the two of you out of the club, you having already fallen asleep on his shoulder. He can hear your soft breaths in his ear and feel the way you cling to him even in your sleep. No doubt you'd have a raging hangover tomorrow, but that's okay— because you'll have him to take care of you, too.

Bonus!!

You wake up to hands down the worst fucking headache in your whole life. Your temple hurts so hard that you swear your head's gonna crack open like an egg. Groaning, you pull the covers over your head and roll over, blotting out the mid-day sunlight as best as you can.

There's a chuckle from the other side of the bed, then weight moving across the sheets— then your husband's face appears in front of you, under the blankets too.

"So, darling sweetheart of mine" he starts, voice soft as to not aggravate your headache, and you're grateful. "What were you saying about my broad shoulders and my thick thighs?"

You're suddenly not as grateful.

Promptly, you kick him out of your blanket cave, and he goes with a laugh. He leaves you grumbling on the bed, cursing out all the drinks you had last night and swearing to never ever ever drink again.

Wriothesley grins, shutting the curtains of your bedroom as he ambles out the door, dead set on getting you water, advil, and something to eat.

Maybe by the end of the day, you'd add 'endlessly doting' to the list.

[ #Taglist registration here !! ]

[hysteria-things]

SINFUL DESIRES (part two)

read part one here

read part three here

read part four here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!nate x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: of course the two of you still “hate” each other. although, it’s not just the sex. you both know that.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, p in v, spanking, praising, possessiveness, hair pulling, video, pet names (pretty)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 661

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: ask for part two and you shall receive part two!

i’m a lover for nathan. that is all.

jerset part ib jersey by @worldlxvlys :)

the spring breeze hits you, making your hair flow in the wind. your best friend dragged you to a lacrosse game, where you know who plays. she knows you hate him, but she always says that you need to ‘live the high school experience.’

right now, your best friend’s mouth hangs open with utter shock. the game hasn’t started yet, so this seemed like the right time to spill the beans. “you’re telling me that nate — the person you despise — showed up at your house two weeks ago and fucked the shit out of you?”

“yup.” you exhale. “i couldn’t look at my parents for a week. told them i was watching porn and it accidentally connected to my speaker, but i don’t think they believed me.”

“holy shit.” she laughs.

you stand up from the bleachers, shoving your hands in your pockets. “i’m going to the snack stand before they come out. you want anything?”

she shakes her head. “no thanks.”

you step down the bleachers and head to the snack stand. the line isn’t long, thank goodness.

as you approach, a hand grabs your forearm and pulls you to the side. you startle at the contact.

nate’s grinning in front of you, all geared up and ready to play. “nate, what the hell?!” you scream, looking up and down his body.

your eyes start at where his eyeblack is, then to his jersey with the number 8 on it, and lastly to his cleats.

ah, shit.

“hi.” he waves in your face.

you roll your eyes. this kid.

he starts to fidget with your hoodie strings. this is the most confused you probably ever been in your life. “you coming over tonight?” he asks.

you stare blankly at him waiting for more information, but of course, he doesn’t give any. “for what?”

he shrugs. “to hang out.”

“fu-uck!” you moan as nate rails into you from behind, your ass red from the few times he spanked it. the remains of your last orgasm still make a mess on your thighs.

he has you bent over his desk, his hands bunching up the bottom of his jersey that he put on you.

somerville won the game, and according to him, this was his reward. you are his reward.

his eyes are focused on the DOE right above his jersey number. you’re wearing his name, and he’s making sure you know it.

you’re on your tippy toes, each thrust making you quiver with pleasure. your nails claw at the wood beneath you.

“jesus,” he whispers, grabbing his phone so he can record what you look like with his name on. he’s so fucking fascinated by it.

he grips onto your hair. “you look so beautiful getting fucked in my jersey, don’t you think?”

“mhm,” you grumble, your eyes threatening to cross.

he grips tighter, giving you a little spank. “use your words, pretty.”

“y-yes. i—” you’re cut off by a whimper when his tip hits that familiar spot inside of you. “gonna c-cum, nate.”

you squeeze around him as your pussy squelches, threatening to spew your liquid. he groans. “clenching around me so tight.”

you scream when he starts to go faster, hitting inside you deeper than before. your whole body trembles when you spread your cum around his dick. “there you go… that’s it.”

he shoots into the condom short after you, pulling out and throwing it in the trash can that’s set on the floor next to the desk. he places his phone back down.

he turns you around and leans in, kissing you passionately on the lips. he hums before pulling away. “i hate how much i like you.”

you smirk, but the blush on your cheeks gives you away. “i hate how much i like you, too.”

later that night while you’re in bed, you get a text message. you gasp when you open it.

nate.

[attachment: 1 video]

just a reminder

sweet dreams, pretty

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom

[foreveralbon]

“my model, my inspiration, my muse, my everything” - ln4

pairing: lando norris x reader

in which lando becomes a stranger’s muse and more

word count: 3.5k

content warnings: swearing, i am not an art girlie so very limited (and crappy) descriptions of artworks enjoy!! <3

masterlist

lando doesn’t want to be there. sure, he’s never going to turn down an invitation to go to the club with oscar and the rest of the team, but is he always going to want to be there? not really.

because between what felt like a shit sprint, an even shittier race and the shittiest weekend he’s ever had with the car in qatar, he’d rather be at home, wallowing in his own self pity, half asleep while watching friends reruns. but things don’t always go his way, so being dragged out of the hotel by oscar and the others to a club he doesn’t want to be at against his will seems quite on brand for lando norris. 

he’s decided to make the shadows his hiding spot, sitting at the corner of the bar where he can drown himself in enough shots and self-pity that it could rival charles’ mood after a dnf with ferrari. he makes it through five shots, seven songs, and manages one pathetic rundown of the race in his head before two bodies slide up to the bar beside him. he’s known max too long to not be able to tell when his best friend is to the left beside him, so he instantly assumes pietra’s to his right.  

“p,” he says, not turning to look at the girl. “do you reckon we can-”

there’s a small pause before an uncertain, “me?” is said in his direction. the unfamiliar voice has him raising his head to see a girl who is definitely not max’s girlfriend staring back at him. it takes him an extra second to register that it’s a very pretty girl staring back at him. 

it probably must be the alcohol giving him a boost of unexpected confidence because it takes just the smallest of glances at her before he’s blurting out, “can i buy you a drink?” 

he can hear max sputter behind him because where the hell did that come from, lando? yeah, definitely the alcohol. 

but her eyes can barely hide her amusement and she can barely contain her giggles, a bubbly laugh that’s music to lando’s ears. “i’m sorry, but i don’t even know your name.”

with his cheeks tinged pink, the man holds his hand out. “i’m lando.”

her grip is strong in his, the rings on her fingers cool against his warm skin. “y/n. you don’t look like you’re having too much fun, lando.” she jerks her head toward the exit, turning back to him with a smirk that has lando’s insides melting. “how do you feel about ditching?”

her hand never leaves lando’s as he tells max he’ll call him when he gets the chance and then she’s leading him out the bar and onto the main street. he finds himself questioning whether he should trust some random girl he just met to take him around in a foreign country but the voice of reason in his head shuts up when she looks up at him with a smile that instantly has his knees weak and his dimples on full display. 

maybe this weekend might not end so bad after all. 

— 

they converse over sodas and shawarma because nothing else is really open at that time of night in qatar, and with every passing minute of their “date”, lando finds himself more intrigued by her than he ever thought could be possible. 

maybe it’s the way her hair falls over her shoulder when she leans forward to listen to him and give him her utmost attention. or it could be the way her eyes soften whenever she makes him laugh. maybe it’s the way her lips curve up into the most beautifully cheeky smile whenever he says something so out of pocket that it makes her head drop down as her shoulders shake with silent laughter. 

“so, what do you do?” 

her question comes as a surprise to lando. not that he expected her to really know, but qatar is a small country and he wouldn’t think much would happen at the same time as the doha grand peix. 

“i’m a formula one driver,” he says. 

“that is so cool,” she gasps. “i wish i could have a cool job like that. i’m an artist, and i guess there’s not much to say about that. i’m in a bit of a slump though, that’s why i came to qatar, for inspiration.”

“and have you found any? inspiration, i mean.” 

“not yet. but if you want, maybe you can be my muse.”

he just laughs and moves the conversation along, but his mind doesn’t stop racing, keeps screaming, yeah, maybe i can. 

— 

lando decides it quickly: he’s had y/n for two weeks and he would go to the ends of the world and back for her. 

after their late night date in qatar, they exchanged numbers after finding out they both live in london, under the promise they would see each other again when they were both back home.

since then, they’d spent hours messaging each other. lando talks about his driver friends, his childhood in karting and his favourite places to visit. she talks about her art, university and her favourite foods to eat. she makes him promise her that he’ll take her all around the world, and he makes her promise him that she’ll never make him eat any foods with fish.  

he tells himself it’s not normal to feel like this, to tone it down a little bit. when, really, all he wants to do is just giggle and swing his legs like a little schoolgirl with a crush. 

“guys, i’m in love,” he announces two weeks later, falling onto the couch of oscar’s driver room in the austin gp.

“are you now?” oscar muses, pushing lando’s legs from off the couch so he can sit down beside him. lando throws him a snarky look but continues talking when he realises the aussie’s on his phone and paying him no attention. 

“no, seriously. her name’s y/n, she’s from england too. she’s funny, kind, smart, talented, artistic. she’s a painter and all that.”

“a painter?” oscar looks up. “where’d you go that you met an artist?” 

lando quickly fills oscar in on the last two weeks, from leaving the celebrations early to their nightly conversations. he even mentions her creative slump, how he’s trying to help find ways to inspire her. 

he doesn’t register the look of affection oscar’s giving him, but when he does, he stutters to a stop. “oi, why are you giving me that look?” 

“i’m glad you’ve found someone, mate.” he stands up and heads toward the door before stopping slightly. “just don’t fuck it up, yeah?” 

the door swings shut behind oscar and lando slumps back onto the couch, a smitten look on his face. “me too, mate. me too.”

and when his phone lights up with a photo of her smiling face taken the night they met, he’s never felt more lovestruck. 

— 

lando asks her to be his girlfriend over the phone in oscar’s driver room in texas. he could’ve sworn his heart doubled in size hearing her laugh out the sweetest chorus of “yes” he’d ever heard in his life. 

he spends the next four weeks leading to the winter break on the phone with his girlfriend - his girlfriend! - and his first day off on a plane to see her. she greets him at the airport, practically jumping into his arms when she sees him.

from the moment he gets her in his arms, he knows he’s never going to let her go. and he quite literally doesn’t the first few days. his hand is glued to her thigh in the car, his arms wrapped around her shoulders or waist whenever he can get behind her, or he’s got a hand in her pocket as they walk around. it’s only until she has to go to art studio that she manages to peel him off her.

“listen, lan, baby,” she says between the kisses he presses onto her lips, “i need to go now, but i’ll be back to pick you up later.”

“but i don’t want you to go,” he whines. she presses her palm to his cheek lovingly before walking out the front door of his london home and leaving him alone.

but true to her word, she’s back a couple hours later, urging him into the car, and when he asks where she’s taking him, she simply says somewhere.

it doesn’t take long for them to pull up in front of a small building, and he doesn’t question it when she tells him to close his eyes before she takes his hand and leads him inside.

“promise me you’re not looking, lan.” her own hands now cover his eyes as she guides him through the building.

“promise, love,” he says.

it’s not until he feels her hands moving away and the creak of a door swinging open that he opens his eyes and is meant with a paint-splattered room full of used and empty canvases. but then she turns his attention to a certain corner of the room, a display of canvases stood on easels staring back at him - it takes a moment for him to notice that it’s his face staring back at him. multiple portraits of close up shots, to him on the podium, to even a formula one car going around a corner of the track.

“i have an art exhibition coming up and i didn’t know what to do, but when i saw you, i just knew i had to paint you,” she explains, following him closer to the paintings. she lets him brush his fingers across the fabric, watches him trail every detail along the curve of his painted faces, the glint of his p2 trophy from his podium in brazil, the shape of the car - max’s, he realises. he tears his gaze away just as she continues talking.

“i know it’s not a lot, and it might seem a bit creepy because i did go through pinterest for a bunch of good photos of you, and i took screenshots of you whenever skysports showed you on screen. but you’re just so pretty, and i really, really wanted to paint you and-” she registers the look he’s giving her, arms crossed, head tilted to the side as his face stretches into a smile so big his eyes squint. “why are you looking at me like that?”

“you think i’m pretty?”

she scoffs and pushes him back, a laugh bubbling out of lando’s mouth as he grabs her wrist and hold her to him. she loops her arms around his neck before saying, “you know, i almost forgot why i loved this.” she pauses, and he gives a look, prodding her on. “but you’ve reminded me why. it’s like being with you makes the world seem different. brighter. better. happier.”

lando wishes he had his camera, wishes he could be a painter like her just so he could capture the pure joy in her eyes and keep it forever, because even if her face in that moment was the last thing he saw, lando’s sure he would die a happy man.

he doesn’t know what to say, so he just kisses her instead, letting her know all he was trying to say with that one sweet motion. and when he rests his forehead on hers, he grins cheekily and says, “looks like i became your muse after all, huh?”

—

the gallery is bustling with noise as he pushes past the double doors into y/n’s art exhibition four months later. four months of late nights and long days, multiple stress breaks and even more mental breakdowns. though most of the work took place during the winter break, lando wouldn’t have traded it for the world, because no matter how he spent it, there was nothing better than being by his girl’s side.

oscar stands to his right, a woah of appreciation escaping his lips as they take in the gallery.

paintings in shades of orange, pink and yellow hang along one wall - her perception of him watches everyone from its place on the wall opposite. oscar and lando stand tall in their own separate large frame, and it’s hard to miss the signature colours of mclaren, but dimmer, almost warmer, a style lando would recognise anywhere as y/n’s having spent so long around it.

the way everyone marvels over his girl’s artwork is music to his ears and he can’t help but flush when people recognise him as the man in the portraits.

“young lando norris,” someone booms from behind him. he recognises y/n’s art professor emerging from the crowd and greets the older man with a firm handshake.

“sir! good to see you,” lando says politely.

he gestures around him. “your girl’s done well, lando.”

lando nods. “she has. i’m very proud of her, i always knew she could do it.”

“have you seen her yet?”

“no, i haven’t, actually. i came with oscar, so.”

the older man ahhs, giving him a knowing smile. “well, don’t let me hold you up. go get her.”

lando leaves them with a gracious nod, moving through the crowd to his girl, all the while accepting handshakes from supportive friends and small wishes of “congratulations”, “well done” and “tell her we’re proud of her”. he finally spots her, hair pinned to perfection and dress perfectly hugging every curve of her body, making small talk with a well-dressed couple in the corner of the room.

he catches the exact moment she realises he’s there, revels in the grin that splits her face as she excuses herself. it’s barely a minute between that moment to when she’s barreling into his arms, head furrowing in the crook of his neck as she mumbles, “you made it.”

he presses her tighter to his body. “i wouldn’t miss this for the world, love.”

their moment short-lived though when someone kindly taps on her shoulder. y/n pulls away from him and, with one glance at the woman, turns back to him. “i have to go make a speech, but i’ll be back right after.”

he lets her go with a quick kiss to her lips and forehead and never takes his eyes of her as she makes her way through the crowd to the front of the room, his cheeks flushing when she catches sight of him and blows him a quick kiss. he feels oscar come up beside him, handing him a glass before resting his now-free hand on lando’s shoulder, muttering a low, “simp.”

shut up he shoots back, just as y/n taps the microphone in her hand once, twice, getting the guests’ attention.

“hello everyone, i just wanted thank you all for coming out here tonight. it means so much to me.” she pauses for the ‘you’re welcome’s’ before continuing, “i know i’ve already addressed everyone here and said my thank you’s, but i’d like to mention two more people. oscar, who was patient enough to pose for me for one of my paintings. it means the world to me, thank you, osc.

“and to lando, the boy who inspired me to do all this. if you don’t know who he is, just look around, you’ll find him, he looks really similar to the big guy on the wall.” a chorus of laughter rings out. “without you, lan, i couldn’t have done any of this. thank you for sitting there on facetime so that i could sketch you because i was scared i wouldn’t do you justice from memory, thank you for bringing me takeout when i was stuck in the studio late at night, hyper-fixating on the smallest of details and so much more. i love you, so so much.”

and as the crowd erupts into applause, he just raises his glass in the smallest of gestures to her, and whispers, “anything for you, baby.”

—

it’s later that night when they’re both in the comforting darkness of their room, still tipsy off too many glasses of champagne and each other. he runs a hand through her hair, her naked body warm against his. they’re already so close he can’t even tell where he starts and she stops, but he needs to be closer. he tugs her toward him, bringing her leg over his hip and tucking her face in the crook of his neck before wrapping his arms around her torso. 

“lando, i can’t breathe,” she laughs, but she still furrows closer to him. 

“it’s a great way to go, don’t you think?”

“mmm, the best way.”

“baby?”

“yes.”

he knots his hand through her hair once more, pulling her away from his neck and forcing her to look at him. “you know i live for you, right?”

“do you?” her voice is incredulous, like she can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. 

“only you, because of you. no one else.”

she’s quiet for a moment, only the sound of their even breaths filling the room. and then she’s pressing the softest kisses to his face. his eyes - “my model” - cheeks - “my inspiration” - nose - “my muse” - and then his lips: “my everything.”

“i love you, lando.”

“i love you, too, baby.”

“only me?”

her voice is small and muffled and he can’t help but laugh. “yeah, darling, only you.”

—

author’s note: helloo, firstly, thank you soso much to @disneyprincemuke for encouraging me to finish this mwah <3

secondly, i don’t normally write fics, i mainly write other original works and my main genre is normally thriller and suspense so this is very far off what i normally write. feedback is so appreciated so please don’t hesitate to critique :)

[via-l0ve]

can u pls do supernatural boys reactions to u really liking cuddles, hugs, kisses and shit like that? like physical touch being ur love language

ty, luv ur work ♥︎♥︎♥︎

Physical Touch (SPN pref!)

a/n: IM BACK I SWEAR TO GOD GUYS IM BSCK IM BACK IM BACK

Warnings: fluff fluff fluff

dean:

Dean LOVES physical touch

that’s my dean headcannon

i love him and he loves cuddles and kisses and all that lovey shit

while sam is researching please just get on his lap and wrap your legs around him and just cuddle

he always has a hand on your back or holding your hand or a hand in your back pocket

always touching you

people think dean is all about making out with people but i feel like he would just kiss all over your face like muah muah muah until he’s covered every part of your face but your lips and then he kisses ur lips.

you’re a passenger princess in the impala

he has a glove box with all of your stuff in it

he just loves it.

—

Sam:

sam likes physical touch but not as much as dean

like please cuddle him all the time but also he has anger issues and needs minutes sometimes

but he just loves it most of the time

he’s always kissing your nose and forehead

he finds you asleep on the couch? he’s picking you up and taking you to cuddle.

he always wants to see you in his shirts and just kiss you all over the place

—

Castiel:

MY BABY!!!

cas would adore any kind of affection

he’s kind of a “head empty no thoughts” boy and so you can just kiss all over his face and he’ll keep talking

he’s talking to dean and you kiss his cheek twenty times and he never breaks

it’s honestly very cute and i love him so much

he always wants cuddles

always secretly has a wing around you

i just love him dude :(

he deserves the best.

—

Crowley:

PLEASE

please

please sit on his lap on his throne and just straddle him

he will BUST

(not a nut but ykwim)

he’s literally so happy to hold you

but he’s also a devil so he can’t hold you all the time

he’s got business to take care of

but when he can

he will

all the time