#Another man for me to obsess over just dropped

[tomssexdoll]

Fiery Awakening

PAIRINGS: Tom 2010 x Female reader

CONTENT: ANGST + SMUT + FLUFF

SYPNOSIS: Tom and Y/N are in a forced marriage, tied together by the power of both their wealthy businessmen fathers. Their marriage was a way to expand their businesses and get more money. Y/N and Tom hated each other, getting into fights constantly, even sleeping in different rooms. But one day, when he comes back home early from work and he finds you with your lover, things change drastically..

A/N: sorry for not uploading a req i just really liked this idea!! This does not mean reqs will not be written in future, love you guys!!!

WARNINGS: dom!tom, sub!reader, p in v (missionary), eating out, heavy arguing, some violence (not towards y/n)

Me and tom were in a forced marriage, we were both children of very important business men, the marriage was a way to help both the businesses expand and get even more money. My father and his only cared about money.

Me and Tom hated each other, from the start we didn't want to get married, begging for it to be someone else, anybody else we were forced to marry. Every day we argued and screamed at each other, hitting each other and throwing stuff at each other. We even slept in different rooms.

One day, Tom was away for business, I thought he was going to be away for a while so I snuck over my lover I had been seeing for a couple of months. Unbeknownst to me, Tom had actually come home way earlier than I expected.

I was too distracted in bed to hear the door open and shut, and Toms heavy footsteps pounding on the floor as he walked. He set his briefcase down, pouring himself a whiskey. As he relaxed he suddenly tensed, hearing a strange noise coming from my room.

He crept upstairs and slowly opened the door, his eyes widening as they landed on the scene before him. I was lying in the bed, my legs spread wide as my lover knelt between them, his head buried between my thighs. "What the fuck is going on here?!" he shouted, startling the both of us. His whole world came crashing down.

"Jesus, what the fuck?!" I gasped, startled by his sudden presense. My lover, Jacob slowly peered his head out and cursed under his breath. "Why didn't you tell me he'd be home?" he hissed at me, "I didn't know he was going to be home early!" I retorted and looked back up at Tom, seeing the burning rage in his eyes.

"Why do you care anyways? It's not like we even like each other.." I grumbled. His breathing became heavy and erratic, his eyes darkening dangerously at my nonchalant attitude. He had been trying to keep his feelings from me hidden but seeing me with another man was the final straw. His jealously consumed him and he lost all control.

The glass in his hand shattered against the wall. alcohol spreading across the floor. In three long strides, he was across the room, pulling Jacob off me and throwing him against the wall. "Tom, stop! What the fuck?!" I yelped and scrambled to get my clothes, putting them on hurriedly and striding over to him.

He ignored my screams, his focus solely on destroying the man who dared to touch me. He kept punching and kicking until the guy was nothing more but a bloody, unconscious mess on the floor. "Oh god..Jacob!" I whined, trying to push past Tom to get to him.

He turned his wrathful gaze back to me. He let go of Jacob chest heaving, covered in blood splatters. He slowly turned his body to face me and stalked closer, backing me up against the wall, "oh..so you think it's fucking okay to bring your little boyfriend over when I'm not here? To FUCK in your bed, in OUR HOUSE?!" he shouted, his face inches from mine.

His eyes were wild, pupils dilated with manic obsession. He grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. My cheeks were flushed and my hair dishevelled. He saw the mark on my neck, my lovers doing.

He gritted his teeth, his voice dropping dangerously low, "answer the fucking question Y/N.." his voice was shaky, almost like he was hurt. My words came out quickly, before I could even think about what I was saying, "why do you care? I don't fucking love you and you don't love me, you probably fuck women behind my back too!" I yelled

His eyes blazed with fury and something else..jealously? Desire? He slammed his fist onto the plaster beside my head, cracking it slightly. He leaned in close until his lips nearly brushed against mine, "are you fucking serious right now..?" he spat out angrily. Toms grip on my chin tightened painfully, causing me to wince softly.

"Do you want to know why I don't sleep around?" I kept silent, knowing I had no other choice but to listen anyway. "Because every time I fucking try..I can't get you out of my head," he said, his voice hoarse. "I can't touch another woman without seeing your face, without imagining you. It's like you haunt me, I hate it. I hate you..." his voice slightly cracked, his chest heaving even more now.

"And now..you're here, with this fucking douche? While I can't get you out of my head!" he yelled, a sob escaping his lips. "You know what? No. You are not to see that motherfucker anymore..I don't give a shit, you're MINE, MY wife." he stormed over to Jacob, grabbing his unconscious body and throwing him outside the room.

He slammed the door shut, locking it and turning back to me with a terrifying look in his eyes. "You're mine.." he grumbled, grabbing my waist and crushing me against his chest. He smashed his lips into mine, kissing me passionately.

His tongue forced it's way into my mouth, kisses desperate and rough. He pushed me harder into the wall, one hand tangling in my hair as the other slid down to possessively grab my ass. "You want to know why I really fucking hate you?" he muttered against my lips.

"Why.." I moaned softly, "because I love you, I DO. Not him, ME." he said firmly, biting my lower lip. "I fucking love you and it makes me sick. But I can't stop, I can't stop thinking about you, stopping myself from fucking you..." he whispered softly.

I tried to speak but no words left my mouth. He saw my parted lips, my dilated pupils, the way I reacted to every touch of his, I was just as turned on as him. He knew I was shocked too, he always kept his feelings hidden, his walls high. He hasn't meant to admit all of this but it was too late to go back.

"You know what else I hate?" he released me abruptly, stepping back. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, "I hate how fucking powerless I am around you. How one look from those gorgeous, deadly eyes and I'm utterly fucked.." he sighed, "ready to destroy anyone who touches you."

"I hate how I can't even be mad at you without wanting to end up burying my face between your thighs, or..or fucking you until you scream my name..fucking your mouth until you gag on my cock..." he walked closer, reaching out and wrapping his fingers around my throat possessively.

"I hate that I can't even stand to be apart from you, you may not see me but I lurk..oh yes I do.." he grunted, "I hate that I love you more than I hate you.." he slowly lowered his hand and leaned down, placing soft kisses all over my neck and jawline.

"But most of all.." he whispered against my skin, "I hate that you're not in my fucking bed right now..screaming my name as I devour you.." I gasped as he kissed, bit and sucked at my skin, marking me as his. His hands roamed over my body, possessive and rough. He stopped suddenly, trailing his lips to my ear, "if you're not naked in that bed in about 30 seconds..I swear to god..." he let the threat hang in the air, unfinished but terrifyingly vivid in it's implication.

I nodded softly and slowly slipped my clothes off again, throwing them aside. He watched hungrily as I disrobed, his jaw clenching as he took in my naked form. As soon as the last article of clothing hit the floor he grabbed me and lifted me up, he threw me on the bed and climbed up my body, obsessively kissing everywhere until he got to my aching pussy.

"Tom.." I whined, my eyes rolling back as his lips attached to my clit, sucking softly. He settled between my legs, looking u at me with intense eyes. "Shut up.." he mumbled against my core. He devoured me, completely obsessed with my taste and the sounds I made. "You're fucking perfect.." he mumbled, "could he even make you feel as good as I am, hm?" he asked, his own question making him mad.

He paused briefly, his tongue swirling round my most sensitive spot. "Tell me.." he growled, his voice muffled against my sensitive flesh. "Could he make you feel like this? Could he make you arch off the fucking bed and beg like this?!" his fingers reached up and slid inside me, curling fiercely.

"Mmh! No!" I moaned loudly, my hands flying to his braids and grabbing tightly. He groaned at my admission, his tongue and fingers moving with renewed vigour. He looked up at me again, his face glistening with my arousal. "No one else can touch you like this, no one else can make you moan like this.." he said, his voice low and commanding.

"Fuckkk!" I whined, my grip on his hair tightening. He continued to eat me out ruthlessly, almost like he was trying to punish me. His fingers pumped in and out of me, curling over and over to hit that spot inside me that drove me mad. "You're MINE, this pussy is MINE.." he grumbled angrily, licking and swirling my clit furiously,

"Don't stop! Oh my god don't stop!" I screamed, my moans getting louder by the minute. With a wicked grin, he obeyed my command, never stopping his relentless assault on my pussy with his tongue. His tongue worked magic, alternating between long, slow licks and teasing flicks on my clit.

He growled softly, seeing my body squirm and hearing my desperate moans. He spread my legs wider, lifting them over his shoulders. He ate me out like a starving man, his tongue delving deep inside me only to switch back to my clit. "Come all over my face baby.." he murmured against my core, my body tensing as my orgasm rapidly approached.

I arched my back off the bed and squealed. As I came he sucked hard on my clit, his fingers pumping furiously inside me. He lapped up every single drop of my release, letting it drip down his chin. When I finally went limp, he crawled up my body, claiming my lips in a possessive, messy kiss, "oh you think we were fucking done? No way..we are just getting started princess.." he growled, grabbing my hips possessively.

I wrapped my shaky legs around his waist and pulled him in closer. He smirked, already super hard. His bulge pressed insistently against my core. He grinded against me, hitting my clit, making me moan softly. He captured my bottom lip between his teeth, tugging gently, "you like that...?" he whispered, his hips rolling slowly.

"Stop teasing.." I gasped, my voice quiet and breathy. He let out a deep, satisfied laugh, knowing exactly how much I wanted him. "What do you want baby..?" he whispered against my ear, grinding against me again. His hands grabbed my wrists firmly, pinning them above my head. "You want my cock inside you?" he asked, gently kissing down my ear to my neck, knowing how sensitive I was. "Yes...oh god yes.." I gasped, taking a shuddering breath.

He chuckled and sat back up on his knees, he unbuckled his belt and slowly slid it off, throwing it aside. He moved down to the button of his jeans and dragged the zipper down ever so slowly, loving the way small, impatient whines would leave my lips. Eventually, he hooked his fingers in the waistband of his pants, dragging both his boxers and his jeans down, letting his thick, throbbing erection spring out.

He smirked at my reaction, my eyes wide and my jaw on the floor, practically drooling at the size. Slowly, he lined himself up with my entrance and pushed inside, inch by inch. He filled me completely, loud, desperate whines escaping me as he stretched me out, his hips pressing against mine. He immediately started slamming himself in and out, wanting to punish me again, yet pleasure me to prove he was better.

He thrusted hard and deep, making sure each movement spoke volumes about his dominance. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room along with my moans. He was determined to make me forget any lover I'd ever had. "Does he fuck you like this..?" he growled, his voice low and commanding, "no, only you!" I gripped onto him tightly, my nails digging into his back.

He hummed in satisfaction and slammed into me hard enough that the headboard hit the wall, his hips moving with brutal precision. "Can he even make you this wet, hm? Can he make you scream his name like you scream mine, HUH?!" he yelled, his eyes flashing with intense jealously.

I was experiencing so much pleasure I could barely talk, my vision blurred and my head hazy, "mmmh..no!" I blurted out. He grabbed my legs roughly and placed them on his shoulders, the angle changing so with each thrust he was hitting my g spot, making me scream louder.

"You're mine, always mine. This pussy belongs to me..not to him, me." He punctuated his words with particularly hard thrusts, "fuck, you feel so good.." he groaned, his balls slapping against my ass. "Look at you.." he chuckled darkly, "look at how wet you get when I talk dirty to you, like a fucking fountain.." he teased softly.

I felt my orgasm getting closer, my tits bouncing wildly with every thrust. He could sense my orgasm by the way my pussy would clamp down on his cock softly, the pressure building slowly. He doubled his efforts, his pace increasing even further, fucking me with a fierce intensity as he chased his own climax. "Fuck baby, cum with me!" he yelled, his hand reaching down to rub rough circles on my aching clit.

"Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!" I yelped, my orgasm coming crashing down, my legs trembling. Feeling my pussy clamp down around him triggered his orgasm, he threw his head back with a loud groan, his cock pulsing inside me as he released rope after rope of cum. "Holy fuck.." he panted, collapsing on top of me, his heavy breathing mingling with mine as we tried to catch our breath.

After a moment he lifted his head, a small smirk on his face as he looked down at me, "you're amazing.." he whispered and kissed me gently. I sighed, knowing we had to talk about the elephant in the room, the burden of our supposed "unhappy" marriage. I finally spoke up, "why did you hide your feelings from me this whole time..we've been living this supposed unhappy marriage and fighting constantly but..but here you were, secretly having feelings for me?" I traced gentle patterns on his arm.

He sighed deeply, his fingers gently stroking my hair, "I was terrified," he admitted softly, his usual bravado melting away. "Terrified of messing up what we had, even if it was dysfunctional. Terrified that if I showed my true feelings, you might leave...you know, at least if we fought all the time and..and we stayed together for the business, you wouldn't go.." he said, a hint of vunerability in his voice.

"But I can't hide it anymore..certainly not after this.." he chuckled softly, "but seriously, I love you more than I love my own life. And I'm done pretending otherwise," he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "I'm done fighting.." he whispered softly.

I smiled and kissed him gently, "I guess I kind of feel the same, I've just been pushing it down. I always considered a good life with you, having a family, making the most out of this shitty situation but it seemed too late, that's why I seeked that love in others..I'm so sorry Tom.." he smiled, a tear rolling down his face at my confession, "fuck..don't apologise.." he whispered, kissing the top of my head. "I understand, I get it. But, we are DONE running, baby. We're staying right here and making this work, together."

tags: @ballhair @bills-wife-1 @bkaulitzlover

tags: @ella1289 @billsdolliest @tomscumdoll

tags: @tomsfuckdoll @tomkslut @miyukafujii

tags: @itsangelll

[guilty-cheese]

Aaron Hotchner x nanny!reader

author’s notes// Hey gang! I know you guys mostly know me for writing for one piece but I’m doing a re-watch of criminal minds and have become obsessed again. Need this grumpy old man so effing bad.

Synopsis: you are Jack’s nanny and Jack gets sick at school. Hotch is grateful to have you there to take care of him

content: age-gap (20smthn reader), sick kids, mentions of case, fem-bodied reader in mind, mentions of Haley

—————————————————————

You had been working for Aaron Hotchner for a couple months now. Ever since his wife passed and Haley’s sister moved back home, he needed extra support to take care of Jack. In need of employment and a place to stay you were thankful for your friend, Penelope, who put you two in touch.

It was awkward at first when you moved in after only a week of knowing about the family, but Jack took a liking to you almost instantaneously. That made the transition into your work life much easier.

The dynamic between the three of you was simple. You tended to Jack when Hotch was at work. Took care of all the chores, making sure dinner was made and Hotch’s suits were pressed and ready. When he came home you listened poured him a small drink and heated up his dinner. He never divulged any work details just hoping to keep work at the bau.

The day was pretty much normal. You woke up at 6 to make sure you were up in time to make Hotch his breakfast and coffee. He woke up got dressed and took his breakfast with him sparring a “morning” and a “thank you” before heading out.

You made Jack his breakfast and noticed he didn’t seem as cheery as usual. Shrugging it off you dropped him off and school and went back to do laundry.

In the middle of preparing the stew for dinner you got a call from Hotch. He never called you while he was at work so you picked it up confused.

“Mr. Hotchner?”

You waited until his voice came over the speakers, cool and quiet, “Can you please pick up Jack? The nurse called saying he was sick and needed to go home. I told them you were coming to get him.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, “Yes of course. I’m on my way.”

“Thank you. Please text me with updates on his condition. I’m on a case in New York right now and hope to be home by early tomorrow morning.”

You nodded, “Yes, of course sir. Stay safe.”

“I will. Goodbye.” And with a beep the call ended.

You put the phone down and went to go wash your hands and put away the cooking supplies.

When you got to the school and saw Jack looking miserable on the medical bed your heart sank. You went up to him and lightly shook him awake.

You smiled softly, “Hey Jackers. Let’s get you home.”

He groaned as he opened his eyes and saw you. He whispered your name and shivered. You frowned and picked him up in your arms and grabbed his school bag. You thanked the nurse and brought him to the car.

On the way back to the house you looked in the rear view mirror, Jack was slumped against the window.

“Jack how are you feeling bud?” You asked concerned.

Jack whimpered and with a weak voice said, “Head hurts, I feel cold, weak.”

“I’m so sorry buddy. We’ll be home soon and I’ll get you some medicine and soup okay?” You cooed.

“Mmkay,” he murmured.

Once at the house you brought him inside, “Go change into your warm pjs.”

Jack nodded and weakly walked over to his closet. You closed the door and went back to the kitchen to make some chicken broth. As you heated it up you knocked on his door and peaked in. He was curled up in bed and shivering. You went into his bathroom and got a cool washcloth and laid it on his head. Then you put another blanket over him and tucked him in.

“Jack, you think you can stay awake for 10 more minutes so I can get you soup and medicine?” You asked as you pushed his hair off his forehead.

He nodded and you got back up and went to the kitchen. Looking through the cabinets for medicine and coming up with nothing you found that Hotch probably had it in his medicine cabinet . You tentatively went into his room and into the connected bathroom. You nervously opened his medicine cabinet and avoided looking at any of the yellow pill bottles.

When you saw the brightly colored pink packaging of kid’s medicine you grabbed it and went back to the kitchen. You mixed the syrup in some juice and poured the soup into a bowl.

As you went back into Jack’s room you saw him resting his eyes. Gently kneeling down and tapping him, he looked up and noticed the juice and food.

“Here’s some chicken broth and some juice to hopefully make you feel better.”

“Thank you,” He said weakly.

You helped him sit up and held the bowl of soup as he slowly took sips from his spoon. Once he finished most of the soup and all the juice he leaned back.

You got up and grabbed his dishes.

“Can you stay?” He murmured.

Your eyes widened slightly, “Yeah of course. I’ll be right back.”

Once you rinsed the dishes you went back in his room and knelt back by his bed again. You took the now damp and warm washcloth off of his head and onto the nightstand.

“Book?” He asked.

“Want me to read to you?” You asked as you ran your hand through his hair.

He nodded.

“Any requests?” You asked as you continued to pet his hair.

“Mm..Holes”

“Holes?” You chuckled.

He nodded.

You stood up and looked for the book on his shelf. You found it and crouched back down by his bed and began reading.

Two chapters in Jack was asleep. His shivering quit and his chest rose normally. You were about to get up but Jack’s hand remained wrapped around your wrist. Not wanting to wake him up you set the book down on his nightstand and laid your head down on his comforter.

———————————————————————

Hotch had arrived home that same night. The case wrapped up quickly than anyone thought it would. He walked into the house and saw medicine packets and left over broth left out in the kitchen.

Setting down his duffel and hanging up his suit he walked into Jack’s room. As he walked into and saw you holding Jack’s hand and resting with him, his heart swelled.

He walked over to you and kneeled gently tapping you. You woke up with a sharp inhale and looked up to see him.

“Mr. Hotchner. You’re back.” You said as you rubbed your eyes.

“Hey, Y/N. How is he?” He asked.

Shaking the sleep from your head you put your hand on his forehead. “Fever seems to have gone down. And he’s not shivering anymore.”

“Let’s let him rest.” He said and offered you his hand. You smiled and grabbed it as he hoisted you up.

You followed him out of the room and into the kitchen. “Sorry for leaving the mess. I’ll get right to cleaning it up.”

“No, no. I couldn’t possibly ask you to do more right now. I’ve got it. You go and do what you want,” he said as he rolled up his sleeves.

You waved your hands, “No sir, you just got home from work. I just took a long nap. I should be cleaning this up while you relax. Please, I insist.”

“You sure?” He asked quirking a brow.

You smiled, “of course.”

He nodded and walked off to his room. You ran your hands over your face once more. You’d be lying if you said that he was not attractive. Living in his house didn’t help and sometimes you passed by his room while his door was cracked and caught sight of his bare torso.

Shaking off the thoughts you began your cleaning duties. As your were finishing up cleaning the counter Hotch walked back out into the living room and laid down on the couch.

You wiped down the counter one last time and then joined him on the couch. He was looking over a case file, brows scrunched in thought. “How was the case?”

He soared a glance over at her, “Thankfully quick.”

“That’s good. One less psycho out there,” you commented.

“Mm.” He nodded.

With the coming silence you went on your phone. Scrolling through friend’s posts you were thinking of something to talk about.

“Thank you by the way,” he suddenly said.

“Hm. For what?” You asked as you looked over at him.

“For all that you do for us,” he said simply.

You smiled, “It’s literally my job Mr. H. No big deal whatsoever.”

He looked over at you, “You know you can call me Aaron.”

Your eyes widened slightly, “I’d feel weird though.”

He raised the corners of his lips slightly, “I feel weird when you call me “Mr. H” or Mr. Hotchner.”

You smiled, “Didn’t think of that. Okay, Aaron.”

A rare smile adorned his face before he went back to the case file. For the rest of the night the two of you sat in comfortable silence. All was well in the Hotchner house.

[thebookbin]

TimKon Fic Recs Part 1.

So I mentioned in a reply to @oneswordstyle that I had a ton of TimKon fic recs and I was about to spam them with a million comments in the replies, but then I figured it was probably easier to do in a post. So here it goes. It also got too long so I split it into 2 parts.

Scions by Winterlive (Explicit) 2008 - 63K words - Complete

Tim Wayne, adopted son of Gotham mogul and secret vigilante Bruce Wayne, shows every sign of being his father's true successor - by day, and by night. Tim sets his sights on a valuable Metropolis lab for merger with Wayne Biotech, and all that stands in his way is the city's own rising star: Conner Luthor.

Note: I really love when characters get to grow up. I think Tim was a really fun teen to read about, and this fic explores him as a young business man and true heir to the Wayne legacy. Kon is Luthor’s son and prodigy in this, and it makes them interesting foils.

⭐️ call me cute and feed me sugar by suzukiblu (Teen) 2024 - 80K words - Ongoing

Tim Drake had absolutely no intentions of ever becoming anyone's sugar daddy when he met Superboy. This would have worked out better for him if Superboy had ever had an actual legal identity or an actual legal guardian or just . . . literally anything whatsoever in life. Ever. At all.

Just a bank account, even.

Note: Kon is fresh outta the test tube in this one, and despite the author’s facetious use of the word “sugar daddy” this is actually really sweet. Make sure to drop a comment and let the author know we’re excited for the next chapter!

Baby, Talk Me Down (Take Me Out) by sage (Teen) 2020 - 90K words - hiatus

Tim has been working too hard lately, and everyone is starting to notice. Bruce takes it upon himself to help Tim do some self-care and ships Tim off to the Kent farm for the summer, forcing him to take a well-earned vacation. Naturally, things get out of hand.

Note: This fic is on hiatus, so make sure to stop by and leave an encouraging comment, so we can get the ending this sweet story deserves. Tim finally gets a minute to breathe and really process all that’s been happening. He also gets to experience small town life but also he’s Tim so he gets himself into trouble. I find in a lot of fics, Kon always feels out of place or like he doesn’t quite belong, but he’s very settled and has really taken the time to learn who he is in this one, which I appreciated very much.

The Classic Shenanigans of Two Idiot Boys in Love by MashpotatoeQueen (Teen) 2021 - 94K words - Complete

In which the papers get hold of the fact that Timothy Drake-Wayne is dating another boy, Kon is all chill, Tim is no chill at all, the internet is flipping out, and Dick Grayson is quite possibly the greatest big brother of all time.

Note: An attempt to explore the public side of their relationship, a story told in vignettes.

⭐️ Stars Over Gotham by madaliz (Explicit) 2025 - 170K words - ongoing

Kon is tasked by the Planet to write the defining piece on Gotham City (no pressure). As he learns more about the city's first family and its criminal underbelly, he finds himself increasingly entangled with the mob and the vigilantes he's supposed to keep away from.

or

A story about how Kon and Tim grapple with their family legacies, fall in love, and team up to foil a conspiracy to ruin Gotham's hard earned order.

Note: Adults! Self-assured Kon! A really interesting world in which the Bats and the JL are completely separate and do not mingle. They are aware of each other but maintain strict rules. When Kon goes to Gotham in his civilian identity as a reporter his and Tim’s game of cat and mouse quickly turns into a Romeo and Juliet situation and I AM OBSESSED. There’s only 3 chapters left and I love this fic so much I’m dreading saying goodbye to it. Make sure to leave a comment to let the author know!

I’m alone here, I think by unluckyloki (Teen) 2019 - 93K words - Complete

Superboy is fighting robots in San Francisco and remembers something that wasn't. There's a new priest in the Naxos temple appointed by Dream of the Endless. Kon is missing something. Tim is missing everything. One day Krypto practically drags Superboy to a remote island in Europe and there's a dark haired guy smiling at Kon like he knows him.

Maybe he does.

Note: I’m not usually a fan of fics set in the cartoon Young Justice world, but this one is really special. The prose is exquisite, and it feels like reading an epic poem. Even though it’s kind of in the blurb it took me way too long to realize it was a Sandman crossover, but honestly you don’t really have to know anything about that. I’m also not usually a fan of ‘Tim Drake has magic AUs’ but again, I can read anything if it’s executed well, and this writer executes basically everything perfectly.

I Want it That Way (1990s Tim/Kon) by WynterSky (Series) - 140K words - Complete

On a field trip, Robin has a close encounter with the newest super in Metropolis, only to discover the hard way that Superboy secretly works for Lex Luthor. They agree to work together on a plan to free Superboy from Luthor’s hold, but Robin isn’t sure how far he can trust him—and his developing feelings only make things more complicated.

Note: Series says “not complete” but the series currently has 3 fics, which are all complete. Set int he 90s, which I think is perfect for superheroes. A lot of the mythos collapses with modern day technology. Fresh outta the test tube Kon is sort of held hostage by Lex Luthor, and young Tim realizes this and decides to save him. The 90’s setting is what MAKES this series something truly special.

buy back the secrets by sundiscus (Teen) 2024 - 90K words - Ongoing

He takes a long, slow breath. Ignores the glares from the other students. “Superboy,” he murmurs. “It’s me. If you’re listening, I could use some help.”

Or: 5 times Superboy saves Tim Drake, and one time Tim Drake saves Superboy.

Note: 1 chapter left! Don’t forget to leave a comment so we can let the author know how much we’re anticipating the last chapter. This is another love-square AU, I can’t help myself. In this one, they’re both skewed a bit younger, but they deal with the more heavy side of vigilantism.

Trust fall by Ididloveyou_once (Mature) 2021 - 22K words - Complete

‘Drake?’

Tim felt like he was choking. His throat was tight. He couldn’t swallow.

‘Damian?’ He managed.

Damian was… here. At Kent Farm. Dressed in the too-big Batman pajamas that Dick had bought him last Christmas as a joke. And- And-

Tim was wearing Kon’s t-shirt and his hair was messy and his lips were swollen and- He wasn’t ready for this- He wasn’t- He couldn’t-

How had he been so stupid?

Or: Tim comes out to Damian and prepares for the entire family to know by morning. It just so happens that Damian can keep a secret. Multiple, actually.

Note: Not usually a fan of Damian/Jon but I think this fic handles it well and is more of a puppy-crush than anything. This is a coming-out fic that deals in all those tropes, and I think handles it really well. Again, I’m not usually into the more fanon interpretation of Tim as a timid, neglected, anxiety-ridden wet cat, but this fic explores some insecurities without, I feel, straying too far from his actual characterization.

⭐️ First Kontact by Chiyana

Two years after a disastrous first encounter with an alien entity called Necros, Captain Tim Drake is given his first mission back in the field. The simple six-month exploration mission babysitting a group of LexCorp researchers goes abruptly downhill upon the discovery of a missing colony ship, landing Tim directly back into the horror that took him out of the field in the first place and leading him to his second first encounter with an alien race. Usually he's all for over-achieving, but even he finds this to be a bit excessive.

At least this time one of the aliens is more interested in him alive than dead.

Note: This may be my favorite fic I’ve ever read, like ever. This is a sci-fi au, where Tim is a captain, and the Kryptonians are space refugees after the destruction of their planet. The WORLD BUILDING is exquisite. I absolutely love Bart in this world. Also, despite the new world building, the explanation for Kon’s ostracism from the House of El is fantastic. This is one of those stories that has dug into my brain. Although, please mind the tags, it can be intense.

What happens in Vegas by Ididloveyou_once (Mature) 2022 - 92K words - Complete

57 missed calls.

Bart_ahhh tagged you and one other in a post

The Gazette (4 hours ago)

Bruce Wayne’s youngest eligible bachelor is off the market: Timothy Drake-Wayne eloped in Vegas [EXCLUSIVE pictures]

63 unread messag-

Tim jolted upright. His eyes scanned over the headline again. Timothy Drake-Wayne eloped… Timothy Drake-Wayne what?

And with who?

Or: Tim and Conner accidentally get married in Vegas and decide to stay that way until they can get quietly divorced. It’s simple. Except the Bats are detectives and the press is relentless and oh, Tim is hopelessly in love with his best frie- husband?

Note: classic accidentally married first, then fall in love. Obsessed with this fic, and the author has indicated it’s supposed to be a series, so I canNOT wait to see where this AU goes. Honestly Cassie is the most relatable person in this fic, because she totally believes that these two idiots would do something so ridiculous but what she can’t believe is the audacity to get spontaneously married on her birthday.

[laurents-laces]

Only 20 days left until TGR! Here's all my rambling that I couldn't fit on a bingo:

Jean just found out about Elodie's death, Jeremy lost his relationship with his sister, and Lucas is about to lose his brother. I think sibling relationships are gonna be really important in this book. I also hope we get to meet Cat's sister Vivi when she drops off the motorcycle for Jean

So excited for exy with the Trojans! I hope they actually take some of Jean's advice because he's really good at seeing people's strengths and weaknesses. And I hope they interact with other teams more than the Foxes do. It would help Jean see that the Trojans are actually pretty normal and the Ravens are the weird ones. He still thinks it's the other way around

Jean thinks of Kevin as Riko's Queen or the Court's Queen a few times in TSC. Does he see that title as a symbol of independence like Kevin does, or does he see it as Kevin still having a place in Riko's perfect court?

I'm obsessed with the way Jeremy narrates events without telling us a single one of his emotions. Does he miss having his little sister in the audience when he plays a big game? Did he have feelings for any of those boys who were "exactly the kind of guy [he] was prone to trip himself up over"? Why hasn't he dated anyone before? He loves USC because it feels private and safe, so does he not feel that way at home?

I need to know what Jeremy's family did to him. He calls his mother the devil and dislikes his last name and gets angry just at the mention of his step grandfather. It's such an extreme reaction from a guy who barely says anything negative about anyone

I feel like Jeremy's family issues are gonna be too weird for anyone to predict. But I think his part of the story is going to be less about redeeming himself from past mistakes and more about letting his friends support him instead of acting like he's fine all the time

I think Jean might really struggle with holding back when they play against more violent teams. Would suck if it costs him a spot on the starting lineup, but maybe it would be good for him to see that there aren't any consequences for failing to be the best

I think Neil and Andrew might be too busy with Aaron's trial to go with Kevin to California but Jean thinks of them too often for them to not be relevant at some point, whether now or in book 3

I think Jean saying he learned the hard way not to look at another man too long has something to do with Kevin and the incident his freshman year. It's really weird that Riko only told Kevin half of the truth of what happened

"You cannot save me from what came before, and you help neither of us by trying to dig up those graves. Leave Evermore to me and Dobson... Help me survive what comes next.” I hope his friends listen to him about this. And I hope he starts actually talking to Betsy. He seems like he wants to, he's just worried it won't actually help

The way Jean describes the people he loves is so intense. We got some really lovely thoughts about Kevin and Renee from him in TSC, and I can't wait to see how he'll be when he gets to know Jeremy better. I don't think they'll be able to beat "you are a pipe dream" but I'd be thrilled to be proven wrong

[dixonverse]

His Heart, My Hands

Daryl x Reader || MLM

WARNING: sexual intercourse, oral, smoking, swearing

Daryl had been in love with you for a while now, relentlessly trying to win you over. But you—emotionally unavailable and unwilling to risk the inevitable fallout—kept him at arm’s length. You knew how these things ended. If you gave in, if you let him in, it would only break apart, leaving him hurt in the end. And that was something you couldn’t allow.

But Daryl didn’t see it that way. His devotion to you was unwavering, almost desperate. He had never loved anyone before—not like this. He practically worshiped the ground you walked on, always putting you first. On runs, his priority was keeping you safe. When supplies were scarce, he’d offer you everything before even considering himself. Any excuse to be near you, to do something for you, he took it. And every time he made his feelings known, you pulled away.

Tonight was no different. The two of you sat on your porch, a cigarette passed between you, the air thick with unspoken words. The conversation was easy, routine—until Daryl broke the rhythm. His voice was quieter this time, laced with something raw, something that made it impossible to ignore him this time.

“Think ‘bout you every damn day, y’know? Can’t get ya outta my head, no matter what I do. Hell, I sleep just hopin’ I’ll see ya in my dreams, for cryin’ out loud.”

He looked down at his boots, his fingers idly picking at the fraying threads on his jeans. His expression was unreadable—too solemn, too vulnerable.

“Ain’t never loved anybody before—never. Not ‘til you. And now I can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout ya, can’t help how damn obsessed I am. It kills me you won’t even give this a chance.”

You sighed. “Daryl, we've talked about this.” He also sighed, taking another hit from his cigarette before handing it back to you. “I know but I can't help it. I love you and you don't feel the same way and it's killin’ me.” You look down, shaking your head and taking a long drag from your cigarette before answering softly. “You know how I feel, it's not you, it's me and all that crap.” He stared down at his lap, feeling a pang of hurt and disappointment in his chest. “I know, I just wish you'd let me in, let me show you how much you mean to me. You keep pushing me away but I can't just stop feelin’ the way I do.” You nod slowly. “I know how much I mean to you, Daryl, we don't have to be dating for me to know that.” He chuckled lightly, looking up at you.

“Yeah but you also know . I want more than just being friends, more than what we have now. Why wont you just give it a try?” You shrug and shake your head, giving the cigarette back. “it’s really complicated man…” He took the cigarette, his eyes never leaving yours, his expression a mix of hope and desperation. “I don't care if it's complicated. I've been through worse, I can handle it. Just give me a chance, that's all I'm asking for.” He spoke quietly “I care about you too much for you to get hurt because of me” you sigh, his eyes softened, and he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair out of your face, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “I'm already hurt. Being around you, loving you from afar, it's killing me. But I'd rather have that than not have you at all.” His voice was low and husky, his words laced with emotion.

“But at least I know I'm doing what I think is right, because you'd be hurt 10 times more if I broke your heart. and I just… I can't let that happen” you shook your head. He dropped his hand, his face falling, his eyes clouding over with a mix of sadness and frustration. “You think you're doing what's right, but I don't see it that way. I see you shutting me out, shutting yourself off from feeling anything at all. And that's not living. That's just existing. You deserve more than that, we both do.”

He stood up, pacing back and forth in front of you, his movements agitated. “Calm down, Daryl, sit down” You say softly, “Listen, exactly, you deserve more, you said it yourself” He stopped pacing, his chest heaving as he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He looked at you, his eyes burning with a mixture of passion and frustration, before finally sitting back down beside you, his leg brushing against yours "I know I deserve more, but I want to deserve more with you. I don't want anyone else. I want you."

His voice was low and rough, his words sending a jolt of electricity through the air. You sigh and run a hand over your face. “You know this kills me too right? But I just can’t… I've seen how I am in relationships. I ain’t good at them, I wouldn’t treat you how you deserve. I've seen the looks on peoples faces when I inevitably break their hearts. It kills me” He reached out, his hand gently grasping yours, his calloused fingers intertwining yours. "I don't care if you think you're bad at relationships. I'm not asking for a fairytale ending. I'm asking for a chance to love you, to be there for you, no matter what. I've seen you in action, I know you're tough, I know you're guarded, but I also know that there's a heart in there somewhere. And I want to be the one to bring it out."

His eyes locked onto yours, his gaze intense and unwavering. You slowly take your hand out of his and shake your head, putting your head in your hands. “I don't think I can..” he felt a pang of despair as you pulled your hand away, his heart sinking in his chest. He wanted to reach out and comfort you, to hold you close and tell you it was okay, but he knew that would only make things worse.

“Please don't do this," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "Don't shut me out completely. Just... just don't." he sat there, his hands clenched into fists, his eyes fixed on the ground, his body tense with a mix of longing and resignation. “It's not completely, I want you here as a friend, I do.” You said softly. He looked up, his eyes searching yours, trying to read the truth behind your words. He knew you were trying to give him something, but it wasn't enough.

He wanted more, he needed more. "Friends don't make my heart race like this. Friends don't make me feel like I'm dying inside every time I see you. I can't just be friends with you, not when I'm in love with you." His voice was low and raw, his words spilling out in a torrent of emotion. “So what, if I say no to being together you can’t be my friend anymore?” You ask quietly and hesitantly.

He looked at you, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and hurt, before he took a deep breath and his expression softened. "No. I'll always be your friend. I'll always be there for you, no matter what. But I can't promise I won't try to win your heart. I can't promise I won't keep hoping and trying, even if it's a lost cause." His voice was laced with determination, his jaw set in a firm line. "You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not." He forced a small, sad smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

You sighed and shook your head “But that ain’t right, yes we can still be friends but you gotta put yourself out there for other people, try and find happiness with someone else. You can’t keep trying for me, I've seen you shut everyone else out who try and make a move on you, you don’t even give them the time of day.” He let out a dry, humorless laugh, his eyes glinting with a hint of bitterness

"You think I don't know that? You think I haven't tried? I've been with people. I've tried to move on, to forget about you. But every time, every damn time, I just end up comparing them to you. And they all come up short." He looked away, his jaw clenched, his voice laced with frustration. "You're the one I want. No one can compare to you. And I can't just turn off my feelings for you. It's not that easy." He paused, his chest heaving with emotion, before looking back at you. "I'll try, for you. I'll try to be your friend and support you. But don't ask me to give up on us completely. Because I won't." You nod slowly and place a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, I understand. I’m not asking you to shut your feelings off okay? I’d never expect that from you, just try.”

He leaned into your touch, his body relaxing slightly as your hand made contact with his shoulder. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and nodded. "Okay," He whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "I'll try. For you, I'll try." He opened his eyes, looking at you with a mixture of gratitude and longing, before gently covering your hand on his shoulder with his own. "But don't think for a second that I'll ever stop loving you. It's a part of me now."

His eyes locked onto yours, his gaze intense and unwavering, as if trying to convey the depth of his feelings through sheer willpower. You smile and nod. “Okay I won’t… but as long as you’ll try to put yourself more open i'm okay with it” He smiled back, a hint of relief and resignation in his eyes, as if he was grateful for the chance to at least try to be with you in some way. He released your hand from his shoulder and stood up, stretching his arms above his head.

"Well, I think that's enough deep talk for one night," He said, trying to lighten the mood. "How about we go inside and watch some TV or something? I think we could both use a distraction." He extended a hand to you, a silent invitation to join him in the house. You nodded and followed him into your shared house in Alexandria. “Yeah let’s watch something, how about a horror movie? I know how much you hate those, you scaredy cat.” You say playfully shoving him as we get into the living room. He laughed, a deep, throaty sound that was music to your ears, as he caught your shove and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him on the couch.

"Hey, I'm not a scaredy cat, I just have a healthy respect for things that go bump in the night," He said, feigning indignation, but his eyes sparkled with amusement. "But fine, if you want to torture me with a horror movie, go ahead. I'll try not to scream too loud." He grinned at you, his arm still wrapped around your shoulders, his body warm and solid against yours. “Yeah, yeah. I know you’ll be jumping on my damn lap. How is it that we kill walkers and bad people all the time but you can’t handle a horror movie?” You say with a smile as you flip through selections. He chuckled, his chest rumbling against your shoulder, as he squeezed you tighter.

"Hey, it's not the same thing! Walkers and bad people are tangible threats, they're not going to jump out at me from the shadows or give me nightmares for weeks," He said, his voice laced with playful exasperation. "But fine, I'll try to keep my reactions to a minimum. For you," He added, giving you a sidelong glance and a wink "But don't say I didn't warn you when I'm burying my face in your neck trying to hide from the scary stuff." “Yeah, you big baby.” You say, settling on a super scary one. Thing is, you secretly like when he gets all scared and jumpy, it’s cute. Of course he’d never know that because you’d never say it. “Let’s watch this one” You say pressing play. He groaned and rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smile at your teasing.

"Oh great, a super scary one. Just what I need to give me nightmares for the rest of my life," He muttered, but settled next to you on the couch, his arm still wrapped around your shoulders, his body tense with anticipation. "You're going to owe me big time for this," He said, his voice low and mock-threatening, as the opening credits began to roll. “Uh huh just hush and watch it.” You say jokingly. He chuckled and shook his head, but dutifully turned his attention to the TV screen, his eyes fixed on the unfolding horror.

"Fine, fine. I'll shut up and watch the movie. But if I scream like a little girl, don't say I didn't warn you," He said, his voice laced with a mixture of bravado and trepidation. As the movie progressed, he tensed up even more, his grip on your shoulder tightening as he braced himself for the inevitable jump scares. As the movie reached a particularly scary scene, Daryl's eyes widened, and he let out a low, strangled noise in the back of his throat. He immediately buried his face in your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as he tried to hide from the gruesome images on the screen.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God..." He muttered, his voice muffled against your skin, his body trembling slightly as he sought refuge in your presence. You chuckled, secretly loving this. “Crybaby,” you whispered. He lifted his head slightly, his face still pressed against your neck, and shot you a half-hearted glare. "Hey, I'm not a crybaby," He whispered back, his voice slightly defensive, but there was a hint of amusement in his tone. "I'm just... reacting appropriately to the horrors on the screen," He said, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke, sending a shiver down your spine. "And you're not exactly helping me stay calm, you know," He added, his voice taking on a playful tone as he nuzzled your neck.

“No, you're the biggest crybaby ever.” He chuckled, the sound sending vibrations through your body, as he pressed his face back into your neck, his beard scratching against your skin. "Fine, I'm the biggest crybaby ever," He conceded, his voice muffled against your skin, but the amusement was clear in his tone. "But only when it comes to horror movies. I'm a tough guy in every other situation," He said, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you closer, as if seeking comfort and reassurance from your presence. “Sure whatever you say.” You say wrapping your arm around him to comfort him, not even realizing it.

He sighed, his body relaxing slightly as you wrapped your arm around him. He melted into your embrace, his face still buried in your neck. "Thanks for holding me," He whispered, his voice soft and sincere, as he snuggled closer to you, his arms tightening around you. "I don't know what I'd do without you," He said, his words laced with a deep affection and gratitude, as he found solace in your presence, even in the midst of a scary movie. You nod slowly, realizing you're holding him. But for once you don’t pull away, it feels too right. You focus your attention back on screen as it gets to even scarier parts. As the movie reaches its climax, Daryl's grip on you tightens even further, his body tense and rigid as he tries to brace himself for the inevitable jump scares.

"Oh God, oh God, it's getting worse," He whispers, his voice barely audible, his face still hidden in your neck, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. You can feel his heart racing against your chest, and you can't help but feel a sense of protectiveness and affection wash over you. You smile and pull him closer. Daryl's grip on you tightens in response, and he lets out a soft sigh of contentment, his body relaxing further in your embrace "Mmm, I love being held by you," He murmurs, his voice barely audible, as he snuggles closer, his face still buried in your shoulder. He takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent, and seems to find comfort in the simple act of holding you, of being held by you. Daryl's gaze lingers on you, his eyes locked on yours, as if he's trying to memorize every detail of your face.

He slowly raises his hand, his fingers trailing down the side of your face, before coming to rest on your jawline. His touch is gentle, almost reverent, as he traces the line of your jaw with his thumb, his eyes filled with a deep sense of longing and adoration. "I love you," He whispers, his voice filled with raw emotion, as he gazes up at you with an intensity that takes your breath away. You swallow hard and nod. “I know you do.” You say gently brushing some hair from his face. Daryl's arms tighten around you, and he lets out a contented sigh, his body relaxing against yours as he holds you in a warm, comforting embrace.

The two of you sit in silence for a few moments, simply holding each other, enjoying the quiet intimacy of the moment. Daryl's breath is warm against your skin, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm, as he seems to take comfort in the simple act of being close to you. After a few more moments of quiet, Daryl pulls back slightly, his eyes still closed, and gently presses a kiss to your forehead. It's a tender, loving gesture, filled with warmth and affection, as he holds you close. He lets out a soft sigh, his lips still pressed against your skin, before he slowly opens his eyes and gazes at you with a soft, loving expression. You look down at him, and for a moment something different shines in your eyes, pure love and affection, something you’ve been trying to hide.

Daryl's eyes widen slightly, as he gazes up at you, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of the pure love and affection shining in your eyes. He's taken aback by the intensity of the emotion, and for a moment, he's speechless. His breath catches in his throat, and he can feel his own heart swelling with love and emotion, as he gazes back at you, his own eyes filled with a deep, unspoken longing. He wants to say something, to express how much he feels for you in that moment, but the words seem to stick in his throat, and all he can do is stare at you, his eyes locked on yours, his heart pounding in his chest.

Daryl's face slowly breaks out into a radiant smile, a smile that's filled with pure joy and happiness, as he gazes up at you. His eyes sparkle with tears, but they're tears of happiness, as he's overcome with emotion at the sight of the love and affection in your eyes. He reaches up, his hands cupping your face, as he gently pulls you down towards him, his lips seeking yours in a desperate, passionate kiss.

The kiss is filled with a deep, overwhelming longing, as if he's pouring all of his emotions into it, trying to convey everything he feels for you in that one moment. You gasp softly as he kisses you, your eyes wide. Any other time, you’d pull away, tell him you can’t do this, that it’s you not him. You find yourself melting into the kiss and deepening it with a low groan. Daryl's eyes flutter closed, as he feels you respond to the kiss, and he deepens it further, his lips moving against yours with a hunger and passion that's been building for so long.

His hands slide down from your face, wrapping around your neck and pulling you closer, as he holds you tight, his body pressed against yours. He lets out a low moan, the sound muffled against your lips, as he feels your tongue slip into his mouth, and he responds by sucking on it gently, his own tongue tangling with yours in a passionate dance. His heart is racing, his blood pounding in his ears, as he loses himself in the kiss, his entire being focused on you and the moment. You groan in response to his moan and gently pull him onto your lap and kiss him passionately, dominating the kiss with hunger.

Daryl lets out a surprised gasp, his eyes flying open for a moment, as you effortlessly pull him onto your lap and take control of the kiss, dominating his mouth with an intense hunger that leaves him reeling. He quickly melts into the kiss, his initial surprise giving way to an overwhelming wave of desire. He straddles your lap, his arms wrapping around your neck, as he surrenders to your dominance, his tongue submitting to yours in a heated tangle. His hands slide up into your hair, gripping it tightly, as he loses himself in the kiss, his body trembling with need and desire, and his heart pounding so loudly he's sure you can hear it.

As the kiss continues, Daryl's breathing becomes more and more ragged, his chest heaving against yours as he struggles to keep up with the intense passion. He can feel himself growing hard in his pants, his desire for you overwhelming him completely. He grinds against you, letting out a needy whimper into your mouth, his hands tightening in your hair as he silently begs for more, his tongue submitting to yours even further, wanting nothing more than to please you and be consumed by your passion. You moan into the kiss and buck your hips up against his, your hands gripping his hips tightly.

Daryl's eyes roll back in his head, and he lets out a loud, wanton moan, his entire body shuddering with pleasure as you buck your hips up against his. The feeling of your hands on his hips, holding him in place, sends a jolt of desire straight to his groin, making him even harder than before. He grinds down against you desperately, whimpering and moaning into the kiss, completely lost in the sensations. He's never felt so dominated, so submissive, so turned on in his life. All he can think about is you and how much he wants you to keep touching him, keep taking control. You moan deeper into the kiss, your hands guiding his hips to roll against your own as yours meet his in slow sensual grinding.

You can feel your cock growing harder, the confines of your jeans almost painful. Daryl's mind goes blank with pleasure as you begin to guide his hips in slow, sensual grinding motions, meeting his own grinding with your own. The feeling of your growing hardness against his own straining erection is almost too much for him to bear, and he lets out a string of needy whimpers and moans into your mouth. He can feel the rough denim of your jeans rubbing against his sensitive cock, the friction both pleasurable and maddening. His hands are fisted tightly in your hair, his hips moving instinctively, seeking more of the delicious friction and contact. He can feel his own jeans getting damp with precum, his desire and need for you reaching fever pitch. You grind harder and firmer and trail kisses down his jawline and neck, nipping and sucking at certain sensitive spots.

Daryl's breath hitches as you begin to grind harder and firmer against him, the sensations almost overwhelming his senses. He throws his head back, a loud, desperate moan escaping his lips as you trail kisses down his jawline and neck, nipping and sucking at sensitive spots along the way. His hips jerk erratically against yours, meeting your movements with his own desperate, needy thrusts. The feeling of your lips on his neck, sucking and nibbling, is almost too much for him to handle, and he feels like he's about to come undone right then and there. His grip on your hair tightens even further, pulling at it almost painfully as he lets out a stream of incoherent pleas and moans. You find his most sensitive spot and attack it with your mouth, nipping and sucking hard, leaving a dark bruise that’ll last for days to come. Daryl lets out a strangled cry as you find his most sensitive spot on his neck and attack it mercilessly with your mouth, nipping and sucking hard enough to leave a dark, obvious bruise that will be there for days to come.

The sensation sends shockwaves of pleasure through his body, making his hips jerk violently against yours and his cock twitch in his jeans. He's practically trembling with need now, reduced to a quivering mess of desire and submission. His mind is clouded with pleasure and desire, the only thought left in his head being "More, please, more." He can feel himself getting close, the grinding and hickey pushing him closer and closer to the edge with each passing moment. You reach down and palm him through his jeans, your hand moving firmly and skillfully as you suck on his sensitive skin.

Daryl lets out a loud, desperate cry as you palm his cock through his jeans, the firm, skilled movements of your hand sending jolts of pleasure straight to his core. His hips buck up into your hand, seeking more friction, as his breathing becomes more and more ragged and his moans more frequent. The combination of your hand on his cock, your mouth sucking a hickey into his neck, and the grinding is almost too much for him to bear. He can feel his orgasm approaching rapidly, the pressure building up inside him like a tightly coiled spring, ready to snap at any moment. He's never felt so dominated, so out of control, and he loves every second of it. He lets out a choked sob of pleasure, his eyes rolling back in his head as he teeters on the edge of release. You start to quickly take his jeans off, your lips not leaving his neck as you move down to his collarbone.

Daryl lifts his hips up automatically as you start to take off his jeans, a needy whine escaping his lips at the loss of contact with your hand on his cock. But it's quickly replaced by an overwhelming sense of anticipation and excitement as you move your lips down to his collarbone, nipping and sucking at the skin there. He can feel his cock springing free from the confines of his jeans, hard and leaking precum onto his stomach.

He's shaking with need now, his hands tangled in your hair, pulling at it desperately as he looks down at you with pleading eyes, silently begging for more, for you to touch him again, to make him come undone completely. You move positions and lay him on the couch as you hover over him and take his shirt off. Once it's off you start to kiss down his chest, finding the spots that make him shiver. You take one of his nipples and swirl it with your tongue as you take hold of his cock and start to slowly stroke him.

Daryl lets out a shuddering moan as you maneuver him onto the couch and start to remove his shirt, his cock throbbing with need as your lips trail down his chest, seeking out the sensitive spots that make him shiver. When you take one of his nipples into your mouth and start to swirl it with your tongue while stroking his cock, he nearly comes undone right then and there. He arches his back, a loud cry of pleasure tearing from his throat, his hands fisting tightly in your hair once more.

The feeling of your hot, wet mouth on his nipple, your hand slowly stroking his cock, is almost too much for him to handle. He's reduced to a trembling, whimpering mess, completely at your mercy, his mind clouded with pleasure. He looks up at you with desperate eyes, pleading with you not to stop, needing release more than anything else in the world.

Daryl's pleading eyes roll back in his head as you switch to his other nipple, swirling it with your tongue while continuing to slowly stroke his cock. His breathing is ragged and uneven, his hips jerking up into your hand with each stroke, desperate for more friction and speed. The feeling of your mouth on his chest, your hand working his cock, is like torture, driving him higher and higher towards the edge, but keeping him there, teetering on the brink of release without actually pushing him over.

He can feel his balls tightening, the pressure building to an almost unbearable level. He wants to come so badly, but he also wants to savor this moment, the feeling of being completely consumed by you. He moans desperately, his body trembling with need and desire, tears streaming down his face from the intensity of it all.

Daryl lets out a string of loud, desperate cries as you kiss and nip your way down his body, stopping to suck on his sensitive stomach. The sensations are almost too much for him to bear, and he thrashes beneath you, his hands fisting in your hair and the couch cushions, his whole body shaking with pleasure and need. When you pick up the pace with your hand, expertly stroking his cock with just the right amount of pressure and speed, he completely loses it.

His hips buck up wildly, his cock throbbing and twitching in your hand. He can feel his orgasm rushing towards him like a tidal wave, but he fights it back desperately, not wanting this moment to end, not wanting to come until you tell him to. He looks down at you, his eyes wide and pleading, silently begging for permission to come, his entire body taut with need and tension.

You lean in and nip and suck his earlobe as you stroke him faster. “Cum for me.. let me see you come undone for me..” You growl out huskily. Daryl lets out a choked sob of pleasure as you nip and suck his earlobe, your gruff command to "cum for me" sending him hurtling over the edge with a loud, desperate cry of your name. His back arches off the couch, his hips bucking up wildly into your hand as his cock erupts in a massive orgasm, thick ropes of cum shooting out and splattering all over his chest and stomach.

His eyes roll back in his head, tears streaming down his face as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes over him. He's never come so hard in his life, and it feels like it will never end. He writhes beneath you, completely lost in the sensations, his hands tugging desperately at your hair and the couch cushions as he continues to come undone, his moans and cries echoing throughout the room. You stroke him through his orgasm as you lavish attention all over his body with your mouth, the cum that splatters on his chest and abs you lick clean.

Daryl lets out a string of incoherent moans and whimpers as you continue to stroke him through his orgasm, your skilled hand milking him for every last drop of cum. The feeling of your lips lavishing attention all over his body, licking up the come that spilled on his chest and abs, is almost too much for him to handle. He's trembling and shaking uncontrollably, his cock twitching weakly in your hand, and tears streaming down his face from the intensity of his release.

He's never felt so vulnerable, so completely dominated and consumed by someone else. It's a feeling that both terrifies and excites him. As you continue to stroke him, bringing him to the brink of overstimulation, he looks down at you with adoration and devotion, completely under your spell. Once his orgasm subsides you stop stroking him and pull your head up to look at him, licking your lips clean of his cum.

“God you're so damn hot when you come.. and you taste so good.” You say huskily. Daryl's breath hitches as you pull your head up to look at him, licking your lips clean of his cum with a satisfied moan. The sight of you savoring the taste of his cum is almost enough to make him come again right then and there, and his cock gives a feeble twitch in response. He blushes deeply at your praise, feeling both flattered and embarrassed. He's never had anyone talk to him like that before, let alone suck his cum off his abs. He's overwhelmed with desire and need for you, feeling completely claimed and owned in that moment. He reaches up with a trembling hand and brushes a strand of hair out of your face, looking up at you with wide, adoring eyes “Please…”

You smirk. “Please what?” Daryl's breath hitches again at the gruffness of your voice. His cock twitches weakly, starting to harden again despite just having come harder than he ever had in his life. He looks up at you with desperate eyes, feeling a mix of desire, need, and submission wash over him. He wants to please you, wants to do whatever you tell him to do, wants to feel your dominance and control over him again. The words spill out of him in a rush, laced with desperation and desire. “Please.. let me taste myself on your tongue…” You smirk wider and lean in to capture his lips in a slow sensual kiss, letting him taste himself. Daryl moans into the kiss, his hips jerking up against you, his cock rubbing against your stomach, desperate for friction. He can feel himself slipping further and further under your spell, losing himself in the sensations and the feeling of your dominance.

He wants more, wants everything you have to give him, and wants to give you everything in return. He breaks the kiss, panting heavily, and looks up at you with glazed-over eyes, a mix of need and desire etched across his face. "Please…can i suck your cock.. please let me suck it…” Daryl's eyes widen in awe and desire as you remove your pants and reveal your large, perfect, aching cock. It's the most beautiful cock he's ever seen, and he feels his mouth water at the sight of it. He looks up at you with pure adoration and need, his hands moving to your hips, gripping them tightly, like a lifeline. He wants to feel it inside him, wants to choke on it, wants to worship it with his mouth.

He starts to lean forward, his lips parting eagerly, ready to take your cock into his mouth, when suddenly he stops and looks up at you again, his eyes pleading for permission. You nod with a smile, running your hand through his hair. Daryl shudders at the feeling of your hand running through his hair and your encouraging nod. He feels like he's in heaven, getting to pleasure you like this.

He looks down at your cock, takes a deep breath, and wraps his lips around the head, moaning loudly at the taste and feel of it. It's even better than he imagined, thick and heavy on his tongue, with a salty tang that drives him wild. He swirls his tongue around the head a few times, savoring the taste and feel of it, before taking more of it into his mouth, slowly bobbing his head up and down on your length. You moan deeply, your hand tightening in his hair as your head falls back in pleasure. “Fuck..” You groan.

Daryl moans around your cock at the sound of your deep, guttural moan and the feeling of your hand tightening in his hair. The vibrations from his moan send shivers through your body, and he can feel your cock twitch and throb in his mouth. He takes it as a sign to keep going, and starts bobbing his head up and down faster, taking more and more of your length into his throat with each stroke. His eyes flutter shut in pleasure, tears streaming down his face as he struggles to breathe around your girthy cock, the taste and feel of it overwhelming his senses. He reaches down and starts stroking his own cock, needing some relief for the ache between his legs. You grab his wrist and shake your head, replacing his hand with your own as you start to stroke it in time with his mouth on your own cock.

Daryl lets out a choked cry of pleasure as you grab his wrist and stop him from touching himself, replacing his hand with your own. The feeling of your hand on his cock, stroking it in time with the bobbing of his head on yours, is almost too much for him to handle. He moans loudly around your cock, his hips jerking up into your hand, desperate for more friction and release. Tears stream down his face, mingling with drool and precum as he looks up at you with adoring, glazed-over eyes, feeling completely consumed by the sensations and your dominance over him.

He starts to hum around your cock, sending vibrations straight to your balls. You moan loudly and grit your teeth as your eyes roll back in pleasure and you continue to stroke him skillfully. Daryl feels a surge of pride and pleasure as your moans grow louder and more guttural, your eyes rolling back in your head in ecstasy. He knows he's doing a good job, and it spurs him on to take your cock even deeper into his throat, determined to make you feel even better. He starts to pick up the pace, bobbing his head up and down your cock with renewed vigor, slurping loudly and messily as he does so. His humming becomes more intense, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your cock and balls, his own cock throbbing and twitching in your hand as you continue to stroke him at a steady pace.

Daryl looks up at you with pleading eyes, wanting to taste your cum so badly it's driving him crazy. He can feel your cock throbbing and twitching in his mouth, taste the salty precum leaking from the tip, and hear the low, guttural sounds escaping your throat. He starts to bob his head up and down even faster, determined to make you cum down his throat. His hand on your hip digs in hard, urging you to cum, his own hips jerking up into your hand as he moans and hums around your cock, his breathing ragged and labored as he struggles to breathe around your girthy length. You gasp and moan deep and gutturally “fuckin christ… oh god… i’m gonna cum” Daryl's eyes light up with excitement and anticipation as you gasp and moan out that you're about to cum. He moans loudly around your cock, the sound muffled and desperate, and starts bobbing his head up and down even faster, his tongue swirling around the head on each upstroke.

He looks up at you with adoring eyes, silently begging you to cum down his throat, his own cock twitching and throbbing in your hand as he hums and slurps around your length, eager to swallow every drop of your load. Daryl can feel your cock start to pulse and throb in his mouth, a sure sign that you're about to explode. He pulls back slightly, taking just the head of your cock into his mouth, and starts sucking on it hard, hollowing out his cheeks and slurping loudly. He flicks his tongue rapidly over your sensitive tip, his hand on your hip squeezing tighter as he looks up at you, ready to swallow everything you give him.

His breathing is ragged and fast, his own cock about to burst from how turned on he is by the situation. Your eyes snap open and you cum immediately with his skilled ministrations. You cum deep in his throat with a loud guttural moan. Daryl's eyes widen in ecstasy as you suddenly cum deep in his throat with a loud, guttural moan. The hot, thick ropes of cum shooting down his throat make him see stars, and he lets out a choked cry of pleasure around your cock. He swallows it all down greedily, his throat working overtime to take your massive load, tears streaming down his face as he struggles to breathe and keep up with the onslaught of cum. His own cock erupts in a powerful orgasm in your hand, his cum shooting out in thick spurts all over your fingers and the floor.

Daryl's orgasm hits him like a ton of bricks as you cum down his throat and continue to stroke him through it. His eyes roll back in his head, his body trembling and jerking with the force of his release. His cock twitches and jerks wildly in your hand, painting your fingers and the floor with his cum, a puddle of it forming beneath him. He swallows every last drop of your load, his throat bobbing frantically as he tries to keep up, and when you finally finish cumming, he pulls back, gasping for air, his mouth hanging open and a dazed expression on his face. He's never felt so completely used and dominated in his life, and he loves it. You groan and collapse on the couch, completely blissfully spent. “Fuuck.”

Daryl collapses to his knees, gasping for air and still shuddering with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He looks up at you, collapsed on the couch, your cock now limp and spent, and feels a surge of pride and satisfaction. He made you cum that hard. He coughs a few times, his throat raw and sore from taking your massive load, and looks down at the mess he made on the floor, feeling a mix of embarrassment and desire wash over him. He starts to get up to clean it, but his legs are shaking too much. You gently take his wrist and shake your head, pulling him down on top of you and wrapping your arms around him.

“Not now…” Daryl's heart skips a beat as you pull him down on top of you and wrap your arms around him, shaking your head when he tries to get up to clean the mess. He feels a rush of affection and desire flood through him, and he melts into your embrace, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. He loves the feeling of being held by you, of being cuddled and comforted after sucking your massive cock and cumming all over the floor. He lays on top of you, listening to your ragged breathing and feeling your strong arms around him, feeling more at peace and content than he ever has in his life.

Daryl buries his face deeper into your neck, inhaling your scent and feeling like he's in heaven. He can feel your cum drying on his face, but he doesn't care. All he cares about is being here with you, cuddling on the couch after you dominated him and gave him the best orgasm of his life. He starts to doze off, feeling completely spent and content, the mess on the floor and his face forgotten for the moment. He mumbles against your neck, his voice hoarse and raspy. “Love you so much…" You smile and nod sleepily “i…I love you too...” You whisper back before falling asleep. Daryl's eyes snap open at your whispered confession, his heart stopping for a moment.

He can't believe what he just heard. You love him too? The words echo in his mind, filling him with an indescribable joy and warmth. He tightens his arms around you, holding you even closer, feeling like he's dreaming. But no, this is real. You just said you love him. He looks up at your face, seeing your closed eyes and relaxed features, and feels tears prickle at the corners of his own eyes. He can't believe his luck, can't believe that after all this time pining for you, you love him back. He buries his face back into your neck, a wide grin spreading across his face, and drifts off to sleep, feeling happier than he ever thought possible.

-

Daryl wakes up the next morning still on top of you, his face buried in your neck, feeling more well-rested and happy than he ever has. For a moment, he forgets about the mess they made the night before, the cum drying on his face, and the fact that you had confessed your love to him. Then he remembers, and his heart starts to race with excitement and anticipation. He looks up at your sleeping face, feeling a surge of affection and desire, and gently kisses your neck, nuzzling his face against it, trying to figure out how to bring up the subject of your confession without sounding too eager or hopeful. You groan as you awake from the kiss on your neck and look up at him with a sleepy smile “mornin”

Daryl's heart skips a beat at the sound of your sleepy morning voice and the lazy smile on your face. You look so relaxed and happy, and he feels his breath catch in his throat at the sight. He can't help but grin back at you, feeling like the luckiest man in the world. He looks into your eyes, his own filled with hope and excitement, and gently runs his fingers through your messy hair, wanting to savor this moment with you for as long as possible before bringing up the confession. “Mornin’… How did you sleep?” You chuckle gruffly “Fucking amazing.” Daryl feels a shiver run down his spine at the sound of your deep, gruff chuckle and your sleepy response. He loves how rough and sexy your voice sounds in the morning, and he can feel his cock start to harden again at the thought of waking up next to you every day. He chuckles along with you, feeling giddy and elated, and gently rubs your shoulders, trying to keep his cool and not bring up the fact that you told him you loved him right away. “I bet you’re still tired. We were up pretty late last night…” You nod and speak quietly “Yeah I'm beat.”

Daryl melts into your touch as you run your fingers through his hair, feeling like he could purr with contentment. The fact that you're still running your fingers through his hair after you confessed your love to him fills him with hope and affection. He can't help but smile up at you, feeling a mix of tenderness and desire wash over him. He looks into your eyes, seeing the exhaustion there, and feels a pang of guilt for wearing you out so much the night before. But at the same time, he can't bring himself to feel too bad about it. He loved making you feel good and would do it again in a heartbeat. “Well… I should probably let you get back to sleep then..” You shake your head slowly “Nah.. It’s too late… Besides, you look like you have something on your mind”

Daryl's heart races as you shake your head and tell him that you’re already awake. He feels a mix of excitement and nervousness well up inside him as you mention that he looks like he has something on his mind. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself to bring up the subject of your confession. He looks into your eyes, seeing the sleepy yet inquisitive look in them. He swallows hard, trying to find the right words. "I… I wanted to talk to you about something.” You nod and brush some hair away from his face. “What's up?” Daryl's heart skips a beat at your casual gesture, brushing the hair away from his face like it's the most natural thing in the world. He feels his resolve start to crumble as he looks into your sleepy, affectionate eyes, the weight of your confession heavy on his mind. He takes another deep breath, steeling himself once more, and blurts out: "You told me you loved me last night…” You widen my eyes and almost choke on your saliva. “What? I did?” Daryl's own eyes widen in surprise at your response, seeing the shock and confusion on your face. He can tell by your reaction that you don’t remember telling him you loved him.

His heart sinks for a moment, feeling a pang of disappointment and disbelief. How could you not remember something like that? But then he sees the realization dawning on your face, sees the panic and embarrassment starting to set in, and feels a glimmer of hope rise up inside him again. “Shit.. Okay I think I remember.” You say sheepishly with a small smile.

Daryl's heart skips another beat as you sheepishly admit that you think you remember confessing your love to him. The glimmer of hope inside him flares up into a full-blown inferno, and he can feel himself start to tremble with anticipation and excitement. He looks up at you, seeing the sheepish smile on your face, and feels a rush of emotions wash over him. Relief, joy, disbelief, and a whole lot of hope all at once. He lets out a shaky breath, trying to compose himself, and grins up at you, feeling like his heart is going to burst out of his chest. "And what do you think it means?” You sigh and cup his face. “It means i love you stupid” You say teasingly. “I love you. I always have, probably as long as you loved me. i just… I was so damn scared of hurting you… but I don't care anymore, I don't want to hurt you and I'm gonna do everything in my power to protect you from any type of hurt, including from me.”

Daryl's heart feels like it's going to burst out of his chest at your heartfelt confession, your words and touch sending him into a state of blissful euphoria. He can hardly believe what he's hearing. You love him. And not just that, but you've loved him for a long time, and you're willing to do whatever it takes to protect him, even from yourself. Tears start to spill down his cheeks despite his best efforts to hold them back, and he lets out a choked sob, burying his face in your neck again, overwhelmed with emotion. You hold him tight against your chest, you both bask in the love for each other, it’s content and in that moment you know that you’ll always love him, and he’s it for you, as much as your it for him. Daryl buries his face in your neck, his tears soaking into your skin as he clings to you like a lifeline. He's never felt so loved, so happy, so fulfilled in his entire life.

The weight of his love for you, the years of pining and hopeless longing, the constant worry and fear of rejection, all melt away in that moment. All that's left is pure, unadulterated love and joy. He knows in his heart that he'll always love you, that you're the only person he's ever loved like this, and that he's never going to let you go. You’re it for him, and as he feels your strong arms around him, holding him close, he knows that you feel the same way. Whatever challenges bring the future doesn’t matter in the moment, only knowing that you both love each other unconditionally right now in this moment is enough.

[arrrn124]

He's so mf fine

[alygator77]

another wip from me. hehe. supermodel satoru.

warnings: mdni, smut, fluff, masturbation, obsession. (honestly, satoru feels kinda yandere af. he's fucking down bad for you.)

supermodel! satoru whose life is a whirlwind—flashing cameras, designer clothes, and breathless whispers of adoration. on the surface, he has it all: the perfect career, the perfect face, the perfect life. but perfection… has its price.

supermodel! satoru who, after a ten-hour photoshoot that left him feeling more mannequin than man, slumps into the cold embrace of his sleek penthouse. the city glimmers outside his floor-to-ceiling windows, vibrant and alive, but it feels distant, like a movie playing on mute. he’s surrounded by luxury but drowning in solitude.

supermodel! satoru who, running on three hours of sleep and bad coffee, barely notices when his fingers fumble over his phone, sending a text message to you—meant for his manager. tossing the phone aside with a sigh, he stretches out on the couch, exhaustion pulling at his limbs—unaware that this accidental message is about to flip his world upside down.

supermodel! satoru who, when your response comes through, doesn’t realize at first that he’s texted a stranger. his initial confusion shifts to mild annoyance, but that changes the moment he reads your sharp, unfiltered reply. intrigue replaces irritation, and before he knows it, he’s texting back, unable to resist the pull of you on the other end.

supermodel! satoru who keeps his identity a secret, finding it strange at first, but soon, it becomes refreshing. for once, he’s not the face on billboards or the name in glossy magazines. no—for the first time in forever, someone is talking to him—not his fame, not his face, just him.

supermodel! satoru who finds himself grinning like an idiot whenever his phone buzzes with your name. you tell him about your life—mundane, you call it, but to him, it’s captivating. days turn into weeks—texts in the middle of the night when he’s jet-lagged and bored in some foreign country. voice notes where you laugh at his terrible jokes.

supermodel! satoru who one day, finally reveals who he is, and with a mix of arrogance and curiosity, boldly asks for your photo—eager to see the face behind the name he’s grown so fond talking to.

c’mon now... I show my face to the world every day. least you could do is show me yours ;)

your reply pings through, accompanied by an attachment, and for a moment, his breath catches.

supermodel! satoru who has seen countless beautiful people, surrounded by them every day, but there’s something about you that has him hooked. perhaps it’s not just the way you look—it’s the way you’ve made him feel. for the first time in forever, he’s not just admired; he’s seen.

supermodel! satoru who ends up sprawled out on his couch later that night, your picture propped up on the coffee table in front of him as he grips his shaft. his shirt is discarded somewhere on the floor, his sweatpants pushed down to his thighs as his cock strains in his hand—red, leaking and desperate for attention. all he can focus on is you.

supermodel! satoru whose glossy lips part as he pants, pumping his dick, his head tipping back while the phone’s glow casts shadows across his flushed skin. his penthouse is filled with the slick sound of his hand sliding over his length, mixing with his shuddering breaths.

“fuuuck… so fucking pretty…” he rasps, his hips bucking into his fist. his strokes grow faster, more desperate, as his body thrums with heat.

supermodel! satoru who murmurs your name like a prayer, thick with need, chasing his inevitable release. “nnngh… gonna—ahhh—gonna cum f’you,” he moans, breathy and broken. His voice cracks as his back arches off the couch.

supermodel! satoru whose strokes grow frantic, erratic, his abs flexing tight as thick, hot ropes of cum spill over his stomach, painting his skin in sticky streaks of white. the release leaves him trembling, every drop wrung from his body as a low groan escapes his parted lips.

supermodel! satoru who exhales a quiet laugh, his chest heaving as a lazy smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. he trails his fingers through the mess, smearing it across his toned abs as his smirk deepens—amused and awed by how much you’ve made him cum.

supermodel! satoru who can’t focus during his photoshoot the next day, every click of the camera drowned out by thoughts of you. his mind lingers to the filthy fantasy of your body beneath his—your lips whispering his name, your legs wrapped around his waist.

the ache in his pants becomes unbearable, and he excuses himself, slipping away to the bathroom under the pretense of ‘fixing his hair.’

supermodel! satoru who locks the bathroom door behind him with trembling fingers, his breath hitching as he pulls up your photo again. his hands fumble with the buttons of his designer pants, desperate to release his aching erection.

supermodel! satoru who stares at your picture with half-lidded eyes, his thumb swiping over the swollen tip of his dick, spreading a slick bead of precum across the sensitive head. "fuck… you’ve got me so worked up," he whispers with a cocky smirk, and his free hand grips the edge of the sink, his cock twitching eagerly in his fist.

“pretty girl… god, I’d ruin you,” he shudders as he fucks his hand. with a sharp inhale, he reaches out to twist the handles of the porcelain sink. but honestly, the cascading water is a feeble attempt to drown his debauched sounds—sounds he knows he can’t hold back.

supermodel! satoru whose mind spirals into pure filth, his fantasies running wild as he pictures your body beneath his—writhing, trembling, utterly at his mercy. your hands would cling to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he holds your legs apart, spreading you wide as he fucks your tight little hole.

"bet you'd look so fucking good under me," he hisses through gritted teeth. “all spread out, legs shaking… pretty little mouth begging f’me.” his hand tightens around his cock as his hips jerk forward, “fuuuuck, you’d take me so well, wouldn’t ya? haaa—every fucking inch.”

supermodel! satoru who is teetering on the edge when a sharp knock cuts through the haze, echoing against the bathroom door.

“satoru? you’re needed back on set!” his manager calls, muffled but clear.

but his strokes turn frenzied, the interruption fueling the thrill—the sheer audacity of jerking off in the middle of a shoot. his moans mix with the rush of running water and the persistent pounding on the door.

“shit—fuck—fuck—” his voice cracks, his body seizes, and in that instant his cock erupts. he whimpers, milking his dick as his forehead falls forward against the mirror. as his thick hot seed spills on his hand, it streaks across the counter in messy, sticky arcs.

“satoru!” the knocking continues, louder this time, his manager’s voice growing sharper.

“i’m coming!” he yells back, and the irony of his words pulls a breathless laugh from his lips.

supermodel! satoru who stands there for a moment, panting, his reflection staring back at him in the mirror. he’s a fucking hot mess—cheeks flushed, his hair a disarray, and his lips are swollen from biting down so damn hard, trying to keep quiet.

supermodel! satoru who tucks himself into his pants, buckling his belt with practiced ease as his smirk slides back into place. he splashes cold water on his face, tidies his hair, and by the time he steps out of the bathroom, he’s the typical picture of confidence—swaggering back to set with a cocky grin as though nothing happened.

but deep down, he knows he’s utterly, completely fucked.

why? because you’ve become his favorite addiction, his sweetest downfall. and it’s only a matter of time before he finally makes you his.

a full fic for this will be coming out! lmk if you wanna be tagged. edit: taglist closed

[zhelin-thames]

A Ghostly Text Mishap

Danny flopped onto his bed, phone in hand, glaring at the screen. Another long day of dealing with Vlad's manipulative nonsense had left him frustrated beyond belief. He opened his messages, found the contact labeled Trucker, and began furiously typing.

Danny: You will NOT believe what Plasmius did this time. The absolute NERVE of this guy. You’d think being half-dead would make someone LESS petty, but nooo, this man’s ego is bigger than the Ghost Zone.

Danny: He tried to "buy" my parents' company AGAIN. He offered to “help” with ghost containment tech but really just wants to snoop around for weaknesses in the portal.

Danny: AND he had the audacity to call me “Little Badger” like it’s a term of endearment. I swear, if I hear that ONE MORE TIME, I might go full ghost and dropkick him into the Fenton Thermos.

Satisfied with his venting, Danny tossed his phone onto the bed and buried his face in his pillow. Unbeknownst to him, he had made one critical mistake.

Jason Todd, aka Red Hood, was sitting in his safe house, polishing his guns when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen.

Unknown Number: You will NOT believe what Plasmius did this time…

Jason raised an eyebrow. “What the hell is this?” he muttered, scrolling through the tirade. By the time he got to “Little Badger”, he was smirking.

He typed back:

Jason: Kid, I think you’ve got the wrong number. Unless this “Plasmius” guy is a Gotham villain I’ve somehow missed.

Danny’s phone buzzed, and he rolled over to check it. His heart dropped when he saw the reply.

Danny: Oh no. This isn’t Trucker, is it?

Jason: Nope. But you’ve got my attention. Who’s Plasmius, and why does he sound like the type of guy I’d shoot on principle?

Danny hesitated, then decided to just roll with it.

Danny: Short version: he’s a half-ghost fruitloop billionaire who’s obsessed with ruining my life, becoming my creepy stepdad, and taking over the world. Think Lex Luthor but undead and ickier.

Jason burst out laughing, earning a curious glance from Roy Harper, who had just walked in.

“Who’s got you laughing like that?” Roy asked, setting down a bag of takeout.

“Some kid who texted me by mistake,” Jason replied, showing him the messages.

Roy skimmed them and snickered. “Plasmius? Sounds like a knockoff vampire villain.”

Jason’s fingers flew over the keyboard.

Jason: Okay, kid, you’ve officially got my interest. I don’t know who you are, but if this Plasmius guy’s half as bad as you say, I’ve got some creative ways to deal with him. You in Gotham?

Danny stared at the message, blinking. Who even was this guy? But... he did sound like he knew how to handle problems.

Danny: Uh, no. I’m from Amity Park. It’s kind of a supernatural hotspot, so I’ve got it covered. But thanks for the offer, I guess?

Jason smirked.

Jason: Supernatural hotspot? Kid, you’re talking to someone who’s been resurrected. Ghosts don’t scare me.

Danny froze. Resurrected? Oh no. This guy might actually know about the supernatural.

Danny: ...Wait, who ARE you?

Jason: Name’s Jason. Most people call me Red Hood. Ever heard of me?

Danny blinked, then groaned. “Of course. I text a vigilante. Just my luck.”

Danny: ...Yeah, I’ve heard of you. So, uh, thanks for not tracking this number and showing up at my house or something.

Jason: Yet.

Danny felt a shiver run down his spine.

Danny: That’s not funny, dude.

Jason: Relax, Little Badger. Your secret’s safe with me. For now. But hey, if you ever need help dealing with your undead billionaire problem, hit me up.

Danny sighed, shaking his head.

Danny: Sure. Thanks, I guess?

Jason leaned back, grinning as he saved the number under Ghost Kid.

“Roy, I think I just found the weirdest contact in my phone.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Roy replied, tossing Jason a burger.

“Not bad. Just… different.” Jason chuckled. “Plasmius, huh? Sounds like fun.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can’t stop thinking the tall horror men of homicipher. I’m like 5ft something, so I know damn well these men tower over me…am I discovering something? Maybe 👀👀👀but I know I ain’t alone. TRUE STORY: Also there was this guy that came into my place of work moths ago with his family and he was TALL, bending down to get through the doorframe TALL but he was lovely.

So how do I imagine these boy would react if they see that you’re clearly ogling them for how tall they were.

Mr crawling

Given the fact that you’ve only seen him stand once, it was enough to have your jaw dropping to the floor. He was taller than the fucking doorway that he had to manoeuvre himself under it, and suddenly you’ve forgotten that you were being kidnapped by Mr Stitch, too intrigued by his height and now understanding why he had lied to you about his ability to stand.

He thought he would scare you but in fact made you feel the complete opposite, you loved how tall he was and you couldn’t get it out of your head, even when he’s back on his hands and knees to comfort you. The illusion had worn off and now you wanted to see him tall all the time, but you didn’t want to pressure him into doing so unless he felt comfortable.

‘You’re tall, really tall.’ You said in awe as Mr crawling coddled you against his chest.

‘Scared?’ He asked as though he was fearing your answer, which broke your heart as you nuzzled your face against his shoulder in an attempt of comfort.

‘No, handsome.’ You replied as Mr Crawling made chirps and purrs of happiness as he held you closer to him.

While he’s still not fond on standing to his full height, the fear of his intimating stature would chase you away one day embedded in his heavily, he would find some comfort in knowing that you loved his tall stature and love you even more for not forcing him to do something he clearly was uncomfortable with; preferring to shower him in kisses and remind him that whether he’s standing or on his hands and knees you loved him regardless.

Mr silvair

The man can feel your eyes on his back constantly. He knows he’s taller than most but the way you looked and admired his full height like you wouldn’t be able to anymore.

He wonders whether this was something only you seemed to have or whether other humans also felt possessed by the need to gawk at people above a certain height. Or was it just you that has this particular expression upon seeing his tall stature in general.

He would take notes of how his height seemingly did something to you that then triggered a chemical reaction within your brain to make you find his height appealing and possibly a requirement in finding your perfect romantic partner.

Or more specifically people of similar height to Mr Silvair himself or anyone close enough to his height to qualify. Mr Silvair soon deduced that you liked the domineering presence of someone much bigger than you, someone who’s able to drag you wherever as though you were nothing but weightless to them, almost like a ragdoll.

He’d soon find that this is in most cases considered a kink amongst you humans who found the height difference between partner rather erotic.

Mr Scarletella

Finds your content ogling of him flattering and thinks that it means that you were finally, finally reciprocating his obsession with you for your own obsession with him.

He’s another one who takes note of how you like how tall he is in comparison to you, always looking at him whenever he was entering the room, eyes widening when you see him having to bed down to get through the doorway, and your eyes never leave him even as he’s walking towards you; seemingly getting taller with each step until he’s in front of you and you’re looking at him in awe and hitched breath.

He’s obsessed with your expression each and every time and uses his height to his advantage. Such as doing things like putting his hand above your head and on the wall, looking down at you with those obsessive eyes of his as his smile seemed to widen upon hearing your breath hitch and eyes widen once more.

His height continued to elicit a reaction out of you that Mr Scarletella loved and adored and wanted to see more of in the future.

Mr Hood

Finds your constant ogling of his height interesting.

He didn’t know why you were so surprised he’s this tall, he’s been with you this entire time and it was only recently did your mind seemed to inform you of your Incredibly stark height difference, and bam! Suddenly he’s the subject of your constant staring and ogling as though it would be the last thing you did.

It was humorous to say the least and will earn you some head pats and cheek caresses that has you leaning towards his comforting and gentle touches.

It wasn’t something that you hide from him as half of the time you didn’t realise you were doing it until Mr Hood pointed it out with curiosity, meanwhile your left flustered as your mind held certain thoughts towards his legs, thighs and large hands.

Poor Mr Hood, he understood to some extent but after a certain point it’s better to explain to him that you find his height rather appealing to you in more ways than one.

[marylxvrr]

" THE KING'S OBSESSION "

read part 2 here

𐙚 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 — a ruthless ruler who commands loyalty from all, yet becomes a desperate, obsessive mess when it comes to you, willing to destroy kingdoms just to keep you by his side . . .

𐙚 Trigger Warnings: Obsession, power imbalance, emotional. manipulation, implied captivity, and threats of violence.

You kept your head down, your hands trembling as you scrubbed the grand marble floors of the royal palace. Just another nameless servant in the king's vast estate, you worked tirelessly to keep your place in a world that cared little for someone like you.

The rumors about King Adrian were whispered in hushed tones among the maids. He was ruthless, ruling with an iron fist, but his charm was undeniable. His mere presence could silence a room, his sharp green eyes piercing through even the bravest of souls.

You had only seen him from afar—until the day fate crossed your paths.

It happened when you were carrying a heavy vase filled with fresh flowers, your arms straining under its weight. You misstepped, the vase slipping from your grasp and crashing to the floor. The sound echoed through the grand hall, and your heart dropped into your stomach as you realized King Adrian himself had just entered.

He paused, his eyes landing on you. You froze, breath hitching as you knelt, frantically gathering the shattered pieces.

“I-I’m so sorry, Your Majesty,” you stammered, your voice trembling as you avoided his gaze.

“Leave it,” he said, his voice low but commanding.

You stopped, your hands stilling. Slowly, you dared to glance up, meeting his piercing green eyes. His expression was unreadable, his gaze intense as it swept over you.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“Y/n, Your Majesty,” you whispered.

A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Y/n,” he repeated, as though savoring the sound of your name. “How fitting.”

---

From that day on, you felt his presence everywhere. The king would linger in the halls where you worked, his gaze burning into you. At first, you tried to dismiss it as your imagination, but the gifts began to appear.

A necklace of pearls left on your cot. A fine dress, far beyond anything a maid could afford, folded neatly on your small bed. The other servants whispered, their envy thinly veiled, but unease churned in your chest.

One evening, a royal attendant summoned you to the king’s chambers. Your heart pounded as you stood before the massive double doors, anxiety tightening your throat.

When you stepped inside, Adrian was seated by the fireplace, a glass of wine in his hand. He looked up and smiled, motioning for you to approach.

“You’ve caught my attention, Y/n,” he said, setting the glass down. “And I am not a man who lets go of what he desires.”

Your breath hitched. “Your Majesty, I’m just a maid—”

“You’re mine,” he interrupted, his voice firm and unyielding. “From the moment I saw you, I knew. No one else will ever have you.”

You stepped back, fear curling in your stomach. “Your Majesty, please. I don’t belong in your world.”

Adrian rose from his chair, his imposing figure towering over you. “You belong to me,” he said, his tone soft but laced with steel. “Whether you realize it or not.”

Tears pricked your eyes, and you shook your head. “I can’t… I can’t be what you want.”

He stepped closer, cupping your cheek in his hand. His touch was deceptively gentle, but the obsession in his gaze was unmistakable. “You already are,” he murmured, his thumb brushing your skin.

You flinched, trying to pull away, but his grip tightened. “There is no escape from me, Y/n. You will stay by my side—whether as my queen or my prisoner. The choice is yours.”

Your voice cracked as you whispered, “Why me?”

His smile darkened. “Because you’re perfect. Because you’re mine. And I will destroy anyone who tries to take you from me.”

[littlepeach-world]

 Which Boyfriend Calls Back First?

Pairing: Frontman/Hwang In-Ho x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and your friends test your boyfriends' responsiveness with a playful TikTok challenge, and naturally, your devoted boyfriend In-ho is the first to call back.

Warnings: Fluff, Cute!inho, Clingy!Inho, Protective!Inho.

Word count: 1k

You and your four friends—Yuri, May, Chaein, and Hayoung—gather around the dining table, each of you armed with your smartphones. The room buzzes with a mix of excitement and nervous laughter as you all prepare to join the latest TikTok trend: determining which of your boyfriends will respond the fastest to a missed call.

"Okay, ladies, are we ready?" Yuri asks, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Ready!" everyone chimes in unison.

You steal a glance at your friends, feeling the collective anticipation building up. "Alright, on the count of three: one, two, three!" you call out.

You all dial your respective partners simultaneously and then quickly hang up, creating what’s known as a "flash" call. The five of you place your phones back on the table, the screens facing up, and exchange amused and curious glances, eager to see which boyfriend will react first.

May leans back in her chair, crossing her arms with a smirk. "I bet Mark will call me back first. He's always so quick to respond."

Chaein laughs, shaking her head. "Oh please, Sunoo is definitely the fastest. Just wait and see."

You feel a familiar flutter of excitement as you look at your phone, fully confident in In-ho’s attentiveness. "Well, let’s just see about that," you say, grinning.

"Honestly, In-ho will probably call back first because he's so obsessed with Y/N. I mean, I'm surprised he even let her come out tonight," Yuri jokes with a knowing smile. 

It was no exaggeration; you and In-ho were practically inseparable. He despised being apart from you and would become upset if you were away for even a few hours. Heading out tonight to spend time with your friends had been an uphill battle, as he did everything he could to persuade you to stay with him instead. His unwavering devotion and the way he always wanted to be near you were endearing, adding a touch of romance to your relationship that made your bond even stronger.

Within moments, your phone lights up and starts ringing. The screen displays In-ho's name, and your heart does a little flip. You catch the surprised looks from your friends and can't help but laugh.

"Damn, In-ho’s fast!" Hayoung exclaims, genuinely impressed.

You pick up your phone, feeling a surge of warmth. "Hello?" you answer, trying to suppress a giggle.

"Is everything okay?" In-ho’s voice comes through, filled with concern.

"Everything's fine, love. It was just a little game we were playing," you say, your voice softening.

In-ho is renowned for his authoritative role and his emotionally guarded demeanor, but in moments like these, the depth of his love for you becomes undeniably clear. Despite the demands of his position as the Front Man, where he commands control and garners respect from everyone around him, you are the exception to his rigid exterior. Even amidst his busy schedule, he always ensures to carve out time for you, willing to drop anything at a moment's notice just to be by your side.

The room fills with light-hearted groans and chuckles as your friends mock-complain about losing the lighthearted competition. "Looks like Y/N's the winner," Yuri concedes with a playful pout.

You walk into another room, still on the phone with your love. In-ho's concern is palpable, yet there's a gentle humor in his voice as he says, "I could hear those groans and laughs—sounds lively over there."

"It's definitely lively," you reply, a soft laugh escaping. "We're just caught up in a silly game right now. But everything's all good, nothing to worry about."

There’s a brief pause, and you can imagine him thoughtfully staring into the distance, just as he often does.

"Are you having fun?" he asks, his tone lightening.

You smile, "Yeah, it's a lot of fun. We're all really into these goofy challenges."

"Good," In-ho replies, a warm undertone in his voice. "Do you need me to pick up anything from the store before you come back home?"

You think for a moment and then smile. "Actually, could you grab some snacks for later? You know, our usuals."

"Consider it done," he says with a hint of amusement in his voice. "Anything else?"

"No, that should be it. Thanks, love," you say, feeling grateful for his thoughtfulness. "Just get yourself home safely."

"I will," he promises. "I miss you."

Your heart swells at his simple admission. "I miss you too," you reply softly. "I'll see you soon."

As you hang up, your thoughts wander to the unique dynamic of your relationship with In-ho. You know that most people would probably find having a clingy, overprotective boyfriend suffocating or annoying. They might complain about the constant check-ins or the way he always wants to know you're safe. But for you, it's different. His attentiveness and concern are like a warm blanket on a cold night—they wrap you in a sense of comfort and security that you've come to cherish deeply.

You love how every call, every message from him is a small reminder that you are loved and valued. In a world that often feels chaotic and unpredictable, his protective nature provides a reassuring constant. In-ho has a way of making you feel like you are the most important person in his world, and it's a feeling you wouldn't trade for anything.

Your mind drifts back to a conversation you had with him not long ago. He had confessed that he had never been this way with anyone before. "I've never felt the need to be so protective," he had admitted, his voice soft but sincere. "But with you, I just want to make sure you're always okay."

His words had struck a chord deep within you. Knowing that his behavior wasn't a default setting but something unique to your relationship made you appreciate it even more. It was as if you had unlocked a part of him that had remained hidden until you came into his life.

Rejoining your friends, you can't help but smile, the warmth of In-ho's recent call lingering like a tender embrace. The noise and laughter around you feel a bit more vibrant, the evening a bit more enjoyable, all because of the love and devotion you know is waiting for you at home.

[starryjake]

Heyy girl I’m obsessed with your writing could you do like what would enhypen do if they were jealous? I feel like that would be sooo good! 🙋‍♀️🔥🔥

(a/n sorry this took me forever to post 😍😍)

heeseung: def the most nonchalant about it. like you couldn’t even tell he was jealous at the bar you guys were at with friends, so that’s why you were so shocked when you two got home and he was suddenly taking it all out on you.

fucks you rly rly hard and rough, gripping onto your hips hard enough to leave finger imprints. he’s def hitting it from behind because it’s the position where he can be roughest and manhandle you the easiest. he’s just spitting out the nastiest, dirtiest sentences to you. :(

“i don’t want another guy in your vicinity ever again,” he spat. “you fucking hear me?”

you sniffled, turning your head to the side. your entire body bounced from just how hard he was giving it to you.

“yes,” you whimpered out.

he grabbed you by the cheeks and forced your head to look at him.

“can’t hear you,” he nearly growled.

“yes, heeseung!” you repeated. “don’t even want any other men—fuckkk—near me.”

he slapped your ass harshly and continued pounding you. you were practically dripping wet so he just knew you were enjoying this.

“that’s what i thought, princess.”

would cum all over you to mark HIS territory!

jay: visibly pissed. it just makes him SEETHE seeing another man trying to flirt with HIS girl. and it makes him even more pissed that you’re so oblivious, not catching on at all that this guy clearly fucking wants you.

still, he’s a gentleman. once you walk back over to him, he forces a smile and tries his very best to not show that anything is wrong. he ushers you to the car, eager to get the hell home.

you’re barely through the door when his arms are wrapping around your waist and pulling you against his body.

“you know who you belong to, baby, don’t you?” he asks, dark eyes scanning your face.

“you, jay,” you say, slightly confused as to why he would even ask that. “you know that.”

“yeah,” he mutters. “do me a favor, yeah? go upstairs and get on the bed. i want you naked and i want your legs spread, hear me?”

how he could be so soft spoken yet stern at the same time was beyond you.

“jay, wha—”

“now, angel.”

you don’t argue. you’re quick to leap upstairs to your shared bedroom and strip out of your clothes and undergarments, laying spread on the bed just like he told you to.

five minutes later and jay is between your legs, giving you the most sloppy, toe-curling, delicious head of your life. he’s absolutely worshipping your pussy, making out with your clit and diving his tongue into your dripping hole.

“fuck, jay!” you cry out, shamelessly grinding your pussy against his face.

“my fucking pussy,” he mumbles into your folds. “no one will ever eat this pretty cunt like i do. all mine.”

his words send you flying over the edge, and you’re quick and eager to return the favor to him once you’re done.

jake: my pouty baby :( the type to get the saddest out of all of them, starting to feel insecure when he saw you talking to another guy and laughing so hard at what he was saying.

when you made your way back over to jake, he was quiet and out of it, so it was clear something was wrong. however, he said it was nothing, so you dropped it.

back at home, he’d be clingier than usual which gave you the impression that something was wrong, but you still didn’t know what.

it was only when you’d be getting ready for bed that jake would ask something like, “you only love me, right?”

and then by that sentence alone, you just knew he was jealous. to prove how much you loved him and only him, you showed it to him in the best way possible.

that was how you ended up kneeling between his legs with his cock all the way down your throat. he would be so much more sensitive than normal, feeling like electricity was flying through his body every time he thrusted into your mouth.

you felt so bad for making him think you could’ve ever been attracted to anyone else, so you let him fuck your mouth as long as he wanted, not even minding how much you were gagging and how much saliva was drooling out the sides of your mouth.

you swallowed all his cum because you’re his good girl after all <33

sunghoon: like heeseung, doesn’t really show that he’s jealous. he just gets super quiet and you literally have to PRY it out of him to find out what’s wrong.

“just don’t like how that guy was lookin’ at you,” he would mutter, avoiding eye contact at all costs since he’s so embarrassed. :(

you would feel so bad and you just want to make him feel better, so you do so in the way you know he’ll enjoy the most: riding him. <3

he watches with blown out eyes as you sink down onto his cock, both of you letting out a sigh of pleasure simultaneously. it never got old: that feeling of first being intertwined with each other.

you plant your hands on his abs for leverage and slowly raise yourself up before lowering back down, slowly milking his long cock.

within a few minutes, you’re bouncing rapidly up and down his length and his lips are attached to your nipples. he’s moaning around the hard bud and your fingers are tangled in his hair.

“i love you,” you tell him through heavy breaths. “just you, hoonie. fuck.”

he’d look up and attach his lips to yours, embracing you in a kiss before he dumps his load deep into your pussy and keeps his cock stuffed inside you for the rest of the night.

[callie-the-creator]

sfw. warnings: obsessive behavior, slight stalking, jealousy, saiki uses his powers for selfish reasons, etc.

author’s note: oh, don’t mind me, just writing some headcanons if saiki was ever a yandere.

• you and saiki first met in chūgakkō, junior high, but he didn’t fall in love with you until a few years later when you two were already in pk academy. maybe it’s all the accidentally bumping into him, dropping your papers and saiki being the one to help you pick them up, making awkward eye contact in class, hanging out with one another outside of school, or touching on the same snack you both are aiming for at either the vending machine or at the store... all the things somehow have you involved these recent days and saiki is less than impressed at first

• saiki has always stated time and time again that he personally does not think he will not fall in love, so he always watches others who are in love and help them if he can, but here he is…completely captivated by you of all people. he didn’t know why though, was the author just really that bored?

• good grief

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦

• let it be known that he does possess the power to alter your perception of him. saiki could always just make you fall in love with him just like that…but…what’s the fun in that? no, no, he wouldn’t dream of doing that to you

— however, since saiki was born with the uncontrollable ability to read the minds of all living creatures in a multiple-mile radius…he can read your mind, he knows all of your favorite things, what you dislike, your hobbies, and your address. he didn’t mean to at first, but he did find your thoughts and imagination fascinating. he even finds himself listening to you during class like you’re his favorite podcast

• saiki is crazily protective over you.

— there was a time where you nearly got mugged! and when i say ‘nearly’, well, let’s just say you should be grateful saiki was there to protect you. can’t you see that he’ll always be here for you in a time of need? he’ll keep you safe, but only if you see that for yourself…

• saiki doesn’t think he’s the jealous type, but he will stop any other man who has a crush on you by any means necessary by either relentlessly embarrassing them for the rest of the day or wiping you from their memory because only saiki can have you. no one else. he doesn’t care how many people he has to make forget you to become your boyfriend

• what’s that? you wish it was a sunny day in japan instead of a rainy one? don’t you worry about a thing! saiki will handle that for you!

• stalking you is almost child’s play to saiki since he has so many powers to ensure you don’t spot him — shapeshifting, teleportation, you name it! but this is a good thing because you don’t have to worry about him being an aggressive type of yandere

— if he is following behind you when you’re walking home, i do think saiki would change to his female self, so you would be less scared

• once the author made you bring coffee jelly to school and willingly give it up to saiki after seeing him light up at the sight of it, saiki knew that he just had to marry you

• he could, quite literally, turn the world upside down for you if it meant that you’ll be with him.

[thesacrificialdove]

𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 2.3k words obsessive naga x f!reader — ko-fi | patreon | masterlist | inbox | taglist | home | req. & comms

tags two cocks, hypnosis, kidnapping, dub-con, praise kink, light sub naga, oviposition, breeding kink, aftermath of mind control, altered memories

—📜" Making your way back to the campsite, a kind stranger guides you back to where you're needed. With him

Recounting your steps would be futile. It’s best for you to leave fate like this.

It got dark too quickly and you still haven’t traversed your way back to the camp. A short trip to your van for some extra supplies became a longer task than you anticipated it to. You can barely see the sun anymore. The trees start to look the same. Your lamp feels like it’s about to go out any second now. 

The camping materials hold you back severely. Your shoulder aches and the cooler in both of your hands are heavy. Watching the sunset, you drop the cooler below a landmark tree. Four scratches. You don’t exactly know what caused those scratches, but whoever did it, they marked your path back to your friends.

With a sigh, you bend over to carry the cooler again—

“You need help with that?”

The cooler drops to your feet, making you scream out. The person, who materialised out of nowhere, comes up to you. “Sorry, are you okay? I didn’t mean to startle you.”

The man looks concerned. His eyebrows furrow as he stares at you. It’s alright. It’s just… someone.

“Oh,” you say, wincing as you hold yourself up against a tree. “I’m alright, I guess. Are you, uh, camping here too?”

He smiles. His teeth are white and he has little fangs like your little sister. It’s cute. “Yeah, just by the lakeside,” he says.

You haven’t seen another tent on the lake. You’d know since you and your friends are stationed there. Maybe he’s more camouflaged. “Oh, uh, actually, me and my friends are there too. If it’s not too much of a bother…—”

“You want me to take you there?” he says, practically reading your mind. “Yeah. It’s getting dangerous out at night.” He approaches you, looking around the forest with cautious eyes. “Let me lead the way, yeah? Just follow me and you won’t get lost.”

You nod. He doesn’t look away from you and you don’t either. When he turns to the path, you follow his figure closely. You feel lighter now. The equipment doesn’t seem so heavy anymore… Did you forget something?

He asks you, “You guys staying for long?”

“Ah, well, for a bit. We leave tomorrow morning.”

“Really?” he laughs. “I’ve already been here a while and I never wanna leave,” he jokes. You think that to be true. He turns to look back at you, seeing as you struggle behind him. He reaches out, “Let me get that for you so that you won’t worry about carrying anything.”

You nod. Your backpack, your lamp, all of it goes to him. He smiles as you catch up to him.

You think you’re reaching the lake right about now. You remember seeing another landmark earlier. You think you were supposed to take a turn—but he hasn’t, right? He knows where to go. He knows what to do. You should trust him. You should trust him.

The night looks darker. Did the lamp run out?

He’s not holding anything. He’s not looking at you anymore.

“Hey,” you call out, looking around, “Are we…?”

“Yeah, we’re almost there,” he assures. “Come on. Hurry now. I can hear your friends from here.”

You don’t hear them. The wind threatens the both of you for a moment, the breeze coming along with it. He takes your hand to guide you forward. You think you hear them now.

There’s something in the distance. It looks like a cave. “Ri-i-ight over there,” he drags out, hands in his pockets as you both stand outside of it. “Your friends are calling for you there.”

It’s too dark to see them. It must be later in the night now. You can hear their voices. They’re calling for you. They’re calling your name. You can hear them so vividly. Get in the cave.

Get in the cave.

Get in the cave.

Listen to me.

Get in the cave.

Darkness envelops you with each step forward. They’re closer now. The footsteps behind you feel distant. Yet, you feel the warmth of a body pressed against you. You can feel the air against your neck, like soft whispers and heavy breathing.

You call out one of your friend’s names. It echoes in the cave.

“They’re here, sweetheart,” someone whispers behind you. He's the kind man. “It’s getting late. You need to change into sleepwear, hm? Take your bottoms off for me.”

There’s nothing you can see in the dark. You feel around for your pants as you start to unbutton them. Another pair of hands come to hold yours, guiding you where to pull and where to unzip. It helps you take them off.

“You look very nice,” you’re lowered to the ground, “sweetheart, you look very nice. Can you lay on your front for me?”

The kind man allows you to the cold floor. You feel nice. Just a bit sleepy. He keeps you up with his hands going up and down your body. “Wish you could see yourself,” he says, pushing your top up—revealing your chest—” you look beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”

You can hear something in the background. It sounds almost terrifying. Like the sounds of rubber stretching, the peeling of the skin, and small little grunts that echo throughout. Still, you’re soothed by the kind man who shushes you calmly.

“It’s alright, I just wanna…” he trails off, shifting you around so you’re laying on—something. It’s smooth yet hard beneath you. It’s cold, too cold. “...sweetheart?”

Has he been calling your name the entire time? You can’t really speak. You try to open your mouth but it’s too heavy. You’re lightheaded.

“It’s okay, just wanted to make sure you’re still here,” he says, “I wanna ask you something, just nod or shake your head, yeah?”

You nod.

“Do you like your friends?”

You nod.

“Do you truly want to see them again?”

You nod.

“Then can you help me out? Just for a moment, just for a little while.”

…You nod.

His chuckle is all you hear before he pulls you up. You can hear something dragging behind him. Once you’re pressed against the wall, you continue to hear it as something slides against you. You can’t move. You can’t feel your arms. 

The panic settles in and he’s trying so hard to keep you calm. He whispers unintelligible things to you as something goes tighter, almost making you unable to breathe. It’s tight against your stomach and your shoulders. You can still feel your legs but you can’t move them. You won’t. You won’t move them.

“Stay still,” he says. “Just help me since I helped you, okay? Just one small thing.

“I need to mate with you,” the coils around you tighten, “I need to use you for a while and I promise I’ll return you to your friends. Just make me good for a bit, okay? You got that, sweetheart?”

You let out a little noise. He doesn’t say more as you feel air caress your now bare cunt. It surprises you. “I’ll try to prepare you.”

Something prods against your hole. It’s dry but you feel that you’ve already started leaking. He moans, “Already feeling good? I’m so glad. You’re gonna enjoy this, I promise.”

It pushes inside of you. Your breath gets choked out of you as you feel it massaging deep inside of you. Your legs shake as you struggle with it constantly rubbing against your G-spot. It’s playing it so easily that you can’t help but moan.

“Doing so good for me,” he says, his voice suddenly on your neck as the coils around you loosen. “Gonna put another in.”

He’s true to his word. Another thing goes inside your pussy and now you’re being scissored open. Your legs quiver hard. “So fucking wet,” he moans, “I wanna put my cocks inside of you. I wanna keep you with my eggs stuck inside. Fu-u-u-uck..!”

You cry out as the things inside of you fuck you. It thrusts relentlessly and makes you accustomed to the feeling of being stretched wide. It’s driving you crazy how it reaches so deep inside of you like an actual cock.

“I’m sorry,” he says suddenly, the thing inside of you pulling away. “I’m so sorry. I need to fuck you. I’m about to fucking burst and it hurts!”

You’re pulled up a little before something wet touches you. You moan, the slickness of it cold and almost uncomfortable. He whines in your ears as it rubs between your folds desperately.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna fuck you with my cock, okay?” he says, something—his cock spreading slickness all over your cunt. “I’ll be gentle later. But you’re so good for me, so pliant, so fucking delicious—!”

He gets cut off by both of your moans. You scream out as you feel his cock stretch you. His fingers aren’t enough as you feel him split you open. The heat inside of you is warming you from the inside out, threatening to burn you alive.

“O-oh,” he moans, the coils tightening you, “that’s only one cock. I can’t wait to feel your ass on my other one.”

You don’t get to process his words as the coils around you guide you up and down on his cock. You’re stuck moaning without a name. His cock feels like your entire first, punching you in and out without mercy as he chases his orgasm.

In front of you, he’s panting. He’s going mad with the feeling of being inside of you. Every part of him feels like it's losing as you clench around him, unaccustomed to his size.

“So… tight~!” he moans, thrusting his hips along, “so fucking good. I wanna feel you take all of me. I wanna see you carrying my eggs so much. I wanna fill you up please..!”

He’s mumbling incoherent things as something slaps you from your behind. It feels like his other cock. You don’t panic. Instead, you feel tenfold the arousal as it pokes you at your dry rear.

It doesn’t push in. You know he’s disappointed with the way he’s crying out as he fucks your pussy harder.

“...so much. Wanna fill you up so much,” he moans, a sound coming from the back of his throat like a hiss. “I need to train you on my cock and make you never wanna leave. You’ll never need anyone else but me! Only—only me!

“Fuck, you feel so good, sweetheart.” His hips don’t stutter as you’re being suffocated again. You’re dizzy. You can feel yourself losing air in your brain as your cunt gets railed over and over again. The buds inside of you are getting rubbed to their most sensitive degree as you can feel him in your stomach. It’s jarring. It’s terrifying.

It’s so fucking good.

You wanna stay here forever.

You wanna be trained on his cock

You never wanna leave.

You never need anything but him

Only him.

A cry escapes your throat as you squirt all over his cock. Your spams doesn’t make him stop. “Oh, fuck, you’re so cute!” he says, “you’re shaking. You’re—you’re so tight around me. I’m gonna make you a momma. You’ll never be able to let go of me after this, sweetie. You’re going to want me forever.”

Least expecting it, his cocks stretch you further. You let out a meek noise as it struggles to push something in. “N…no more,” you sob, your walls pushing against it as it tries to make itself home.

“It’s okay,” he hushes. You can feel his arms around you as the coils loosen. “Take a deep breath for me. You’re doing so good.” It pushes in more. “Be a good girl. Be a good momma, okay? Come on, take it!”

He thrusts into you one last time and you scream as something gets pushed inside. You pant, feeling something heavy stretch you inside. It feels like you’re throbbing inside. It feels like a heartbeat

“That’s so good, you’re so good. Such a good girl.”

For the first time, he kisses you. The first thing you feel is his tongue pushing against your lips. It fucks your mouth open as you feel it slither. It’s long and thicker than at least three of your fingers.

You gag. You can feel it against the back of your throat and you struggle to take it in. He tasted sweet. Is it supposed to taste this sweet?

He moans on top of you as he rubs his cock inside of you, pushing the thing inside of you a little deeper. He pulls out of the kiss and you’re left with a drool connecting the both of you. “Mmm, sweetheart, you taste so good. Do I taste good?”

He does. You nod lazily as your head falls into his shoulders. He laughs as he strokes your back. “It’s okay. I’m satisfied for now. I’m sorry I rushed, okay? When you come back next time, I’ll be more gentle. I’ll even make a nest for you and our child.”

Before your brain can catch up, you’re falling into the sweet comfort of his arms.

When you wake up, your friend ushers you awake.

“Get the fuck up, sleepyhead!” she yells. “You’ve been asleep for hours, we need to go soon!”

You groan, unwilling to wake up. Your body feels so sore. The sleeping bag wasn’t the best for camping, you’d guess. What a waste of purchase.

Outside, the birds are chirping and the sounds of the river are soothing. You’re gonna miss this place, not gonna lie. It’s like something would die in you if you were to leave. Then again, you’re very dramatic.

Your name is called. “Hey! Help me bring this stupid ass cooler! Jacob’s already carrying the other one.”

You put it up against your arms. Huh. You feel like you got a moment of déjà vu. It’s probably nothing. You shake your head, trying to get rid of the morning fog in your head.

Fuck. You think you need to check in at a hospital. You can barely walk and your stomach feels heavy. Maybe get someone to check in on you—...

No.

You can’t do that.

You can’t let anyone touch you down there.

Just need to return to the lake after a month and you’ll be good as new.

do not redistrubute this work as yours/without permission or feed to AI 📷 art by @ go_h_og

[juletheghoul]

primus

a/n: Something a little different, I am obsessed with General Marcus and the idea of him becoming a gladiator. Hope you enjoy this other world I want to live in lol, no beta and barely proofread!

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, body / breast worship-Marcus gives it so right🤤, hand-stuff - female rec'g, taking of virginity, (reader is a slave so there is a power imbalance but so is Marcus), gladiatorial violence, nothing graphic- let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 3.4k

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist series masterlist

--

The crowd roars loud enough to deafen, the sound of it like a great wave threatening to wash you out to sea but it's nothing new, you’re used to it. The house you serve, have served since birth, has done well for itself in recent years, all thanks to one Gladiator.

Marcus Acacius, the champion of the house of Romulus. 

You’d seen him come in years ago and although you had been little more than a child, even then you could see what he had been reduced to, disgraced and defeated and practically at death's door. He had fought though, Gods knew he had fought. And just as you grew and flowered into a woman, he honed his skills anew, won matches throughout the city and had transformed from the disgraced General of Rome, to a true champion of the people. 

You could see it even now, watching him make quick work of the paltry opponents sent to fight him in the arena. He swatted them away like troublesome flies, and the crowd loved him for it. The cup was held out to you, just as the man in the sand raised his sword. 

“He really is of a form.” One of the hosts of the games remarked about the man fighting below, and your Domina smiled proudly. 

“My husband has taken him and honed him, I dare say none in Rome are his equal.” 

“We shall have to see about that.” The guest chuckled, not quite convinced but your Dominus laughed, unperturbed and unconvinced.

“My wife speaks truth, my Ludus has shaped him into a God of the arena.” 

They continued their friendly bickering, while you watched the man below, you couldn’t deny his allure despite being more than a few years older than you. He looked up to the pulvanis and saluted to his Dominus, to his Domina, and for a heartbeat it felt as though his eyes locked with yours. 

Lightning struck in your belly, the intensity of his gaze, even so briefly made your heart race. Ghostly fingers squeezed at your heart when the opponents fell on him, cornering him until he was surrounded. Attention locked on him despite your station, the laughs and doubts of his victory wreathing through the guests you served turned your stomach.

Deaths in the arena were a guarantee, that was to be sure. Every time your Dominus secured spots for his gladiators in the games it was expected that not all would return, this felt different though. He had to survive, why, you could not be sure.

“Aha! There we are. The legend of him is proved. He is victorious, and my wife’s words are true, as always.” Your Dominus smiles, kissing his wife’s hand as the doubters grumble about luck and ill-trained opponents. 

The words flow over you, the only thing that draws your attention is the man standing below you, victorious and whole.

–

“The good wine, fetch it for me girl.” The sun shines through the balcony as your Dominus congratulates the gladiators who returned to the villa victorious. His wife, your Domina, sends you for the wine while he speaks at length of their virtues, stoking the fire of survival and vanity in them.

In truth the games hold no interest for you, never had you particularly enjoyed watching men fight to the death, it was a waste and had you the choice, you would never attend another.

They cheer louder than before when you return with the heavy jug, narrowly avoiding dropping it when he turns and catches your eye once more. Marcus has been invited out of the ludus below, and up into the main house. 

He is much bigger than you expect. Tall and broad enough to intimidate anyone but the most surprising thing are his eyes, they are the softest thing about him.

“I would reward you, for your victory, for the honour and wealth you have brought to this house. Name your desire and I shall see it done.” 

You pour for your Domina, ears straining to hear his voice.

“You honour me Dominus.” It’s so rich, deep and full of smoke. Your main focus is on not spilling the wine.

“I confess, I have felt a desire of late.” Your ears perk up, eyes following suit and when they meet his, they’re already set upon your face.

“You want her?” Your Dominus looks to you now as well, and you feel like a piece upon someone else’s board, to be moved around at their will.

“Only if she desires me as well.” He bows his head, and despite the tiny bloom of gratitude in your chest, your Dominus laughs.

“If she is what you desire, take her. The guards will lead you to the private quarters below and you may keep her there until the morning. I will have wine and a meal brought for the both of you.” Your Dominus waves a hand and it is done. Your virtue has been gifted to a Gladiator. 

Your Domina frowns, but says nothing. She merely watches as you are led away, to spend the night with the former General of Rome.

-

The quarters are indeed private, but meagre. A lumpy bed, a small table with two chairs, an even smaller table with a large basin full of fresh water and clean linen, and a window. The door closes and your heart jumps into your throat.

“Shall I disrobe and lay on the bed?” You reach for the hem of the tunic, silently praying that he would not be too rough. The prudent thing to do, is to get it over with. 

“No, wait-“ his hand engulfed yours, stopping you from reaching down and pulling off the fabric that hides your nakedness from him.

“I would speak a while, come.” He gestures to the table and you frown.

“Do you not desire my virtue? Is that not why you asked for me?” 

“Yes, well, in truth I desire your company, as well as your body. I have noticed you of late, you have grown into a beautiful woman and I find my thoughts drifting to you often. Of your voice and of your touch. I dream about you.”

Your eyes widen, shocked into silence by his confession.

“I would have you enjoy our coupling, rather than simply enduring it.” His eyes dart away from your form when the guards bring a platter laden with food and drink, and when he gestures again, you finally sit.

He takes his time cleansing himself of the grit and grime of the arena, scrubbing away until a handsome, lined face appears underneath. Once clean, and armor free he sits with you, and urges you to eat.

It is a silent, slightly tense meal. Your fraying nerves had you mostly picking at the fruit and cured meats. The flutter in your belly kept you from overfilling it. 

“How long have you served in this house?” His eyes are bright, curious.

“All my life. I was born in this house.” Your fingers fiddle with the edge of your tunic. 

“Are you treated well?”

“I mostly tend to the Domina, she is very kind.” Your eyes drift to the bed, and the bottom of your belly falls again to imagine what he’ll ask of you once his own belly is full. 

“You spoke of your virtue, you are as of yet untouched?” His voice lowers, almost apologetic. 

“Yes. Well, untouched by anyone, except myself. There have been covert kisses here and there, friendly ones with others of my station.” He says nothing, but his gaze travels the expanse of your body. The slide of them is heavy from your breasts down to the slit in your tunic. His food sits forgotten on the small plate in front of him, and now there is hunger of a different kind on his handsome face. 

“Do you find me desirable?” He leans back in his chair, broad and golden from the sun. Heat blooms in your chest, filling the corners of you. 

“You are kind upon the eyes, I will not lie.” He smiles at this, and the heat spreads to the place between your legs, the place he will fill soon and a shudder travels along your spine.

“Have you enjoyed my victories in the arena?” 

“I confess, I do not favour the games. Watching men kill each other holds no interest for me.” He laughs, surprised yet delighted. 

“And yet you live and serve in a ludus, watching gladiators come and go your whole life.” 

“The Gods have their reasons, I do not presume to question my place.” You shrug, unable to stop the corners of your lips from pulling up into a shy smile. 

“Perhaps it is I who is blessed to end up here, in your company.” He muses and for a moment you cannot face his direct stare. “Come, lovely one. Let us to bed.” He rises, holding out his hand for you, It engulfs yours when you accept and join him. 

Butterflies swarm as he guides you to the edge of the bed, the fine hairs all over your arms and legs standing on end when those rough, calloused palms skate softly over the curve of your shoulders. His breath fans over your face as he reaches the bottom of your tunic, pulling it up and off. The urge to bring your arms up over your breasts, to reach down and cup your sex makes your hands shake. 

“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” His hands settle on your hips, squeezing at the flesh for a moment before removing his own layers. The sight of him, naked as you, with his heavy sex hardening before your eyes makes you shiver, part nervous, part exhilarated. 

When he lays you down, you part your thighs to make space for him, once again praying the pain won’t be unbearable. The confusion paints your face in a frown as he lays beside you, and not directly on you. 

“I would have you wet for me before I slip inside.” His tone, his words send another shiver down your spine before he presses his mouth to yours. 

You have kissed before, a soft press of your lips to another, the barest taste of their tongue between rebellious giggles in the dark. Marcus’ kiss is nothing like that. He pulls you close, turning your body to press it to his, the stiff peaks of your breasts meeting the solid wall of his chest as his tongue slips past your open mouth and tangles with your own. For a moment, it is a little awkward but he guides you, pulling away before pressing forward again, leading you in his rhythm. 

Your heart races, a curious excitement pooling low in your gut, in the yet untouched place between your thighs. You press them together while he claims your mouth. 

When he pulls away, his breath comes out in pants and his sex presses hot and heavy against your belly. 

“Lay on your back my sweet.” He kisses your shoulder, and you obey. Now, you think, now he will shove that thing inside me and rip me in half. You swallow thickly at the thought, it is so much thicker now, too big, surely. 

He presses kisses to your shoulder, trailing them down to your arm, then the side of your breast before he pulls your nipple into his mouth. The steady suck of his mouth at the hardened peak forms a direct line to your cunt, the ache in it pulling a whimper from your mouth and a huff of self-satisfied laughter from him. Your skin is shiny with his spit when he lets it go. 

“Does that feel good?” His hand holds the plump of your breast, tongue flicking against the peak while you nod, mouth-open in a silent stare. “What do you feel?” He sucks at it again, harder this time and a gasp leaves your mouth. 

“I feel, hot. Warm all over, and an ache–” You pull in a sharp breath when his teeth pull teasingly at the bud. He soothes with his tongue, pink-cheeked and focused. 

“Where do you ache?” He lets go, smoothing his palm in the valley between before holding the other one, and worshiping it just the same. 

“I ache–oh, I ache–” It’s hard to focus when he sucks at the other nipple, your thighs pressing together without your permission. He stops, eyes flitting about your face.

“Where do you ache, tell me.” 

“I ache here.” He follows your hand as it cups your cunt, the soft, fine hair there soaked in arousal like you have never known. He groans to see it, and then his hand pushes yours away, slipping between your thighs to pull them apart. He leans on his elbow, muscles glinting in the soft candle light as his fingers spread open the lips of your sex, exposing your dark pink insides to his gaze. 

“Your pretty little cunt is so much better than I dreamed, spread your legs for me my sweet, I would work her open to take my cock.” Your heart races, your cunt clenches and then his fingers find the crux of you. They swirl slowly around the pert, sensitive pearl of your clit. Your mouth drops open in a silent ‘O’ at the way he manipulates you. 

“So wet already.” He lowers his head, lips wrapping around a nipple again as he keeps his slow, maddening circuit. Your hands grip the threadbare linen beneath you, whole body clenching as he shoves you closer and closer to a shattering climax with his slow, delicious circles. 

“Doesn’t that feel good? Doesn’t that feel so good, my sweet?” He presses his lips to your neck, whispering into your ear and you nod, frantically, clenching around nothing while the edges of everything blur with the threat of pleasure. Around, and around, and around he swirls, consistent, devastating until you can almost taste it. 

Your mouth forms a steady chant of yes, yes, yes, as he continues his gentle exploration between your legs, fat pearly drops of his own arousal slipping against your hip but he is in no hurry. 

The ache intensifies, the slick pools at the mouth of your cunt, and it's with a final, wet swirl that your climax washes over you. Your legs clamp shut around his hand, your body folds in on itself with the strength of it but it does not stop him, two thick fingers spear into your fluttering entrance, stretching and drawing out the pleasure of it while you gasp into his kiss. 

“Gods above.” You whisper to yourself as the blood pounds in your ears, the warmth of his skin, the slick, rhythmic sound of his fingers working away between your legs stoking the fire once more. 

“I could spill just watching you.” He pulls his fingers out, dripping in your lust and shoves them into his mouth. “Sweet as summer wine.” He licks them clean, vulgar and sweet all at once. 

Again he reaches between your legs, slipping his fingers inside once more but with his thumb swirling around the crux of you. 

He brings you to climax again, more intense with his fingers inside, petting at a divine spot you’ve never touched, and again, he doesn’t stop. He repeats his movements, his tongue flicking at your nipple, or licking into your mouth, until it’s too much and you push his hand away. 

“Please, no more–I cannot.” You gasp for breath, skin shiny with sweat, the spot beneath you wet where your arousal has dripped down and soaked through the linen. 

He laughs softly, proud and cocky at how many times he made you fall apart under his hand. 

“If you would let me, I would do that for days.” He presses another kiss to your shoulder before moving up and settling between your thighs. The nervous flutter intensifies as his cock slips between the mess he’s made of your sex. 

“I think you are open enough to take me now, I will try to go slow.” He kneels back on his haunches, lifting one leg up to hold. His fingers curl around the top of your knee, your calf resting on his shoulder as he grips his cock in the other hand.

Your belly trembles, part embarrassed, part excited to be so exposed to his gaze. The blunt end of it slides through your swollen folds, coated in your slick before he notches it and it’s with a slight burn that he slips it in. Inch by inch he presses forward, molding you to accept him, shaping you to fit him like a glove. 

“Gods above.” He curses low as he bottoms out, so deep you feel him in your lungs. 

Your hands ache from how tightly they grip at the fabric beneath you. 

With a shuddering breath he holds himself still, allowing you a moment to get used to the intrusion of him, only a moment. 

A sharp thrust pulls a gasp from your lips. His grip on your leg tightens, the other hand slides up and holds onto your hip, steadying you to accept the snapping of his hips. 

The flex in his arms, the strong, firm muscles of his thighs pressed up against yours, the sheen of sweat glinting on his face and on his chest, all of it only makes it better, his beauty and his obvious desire for you serve to make you leak around him. You can feel it, dripping down your ass to add to the damp spot beneath you, it collects at the base of him too, drenching the curls there.

Your pants, his heavy breathing, and the vulgar sound of his skin slapping against yours is the song of your coupling. The burn is replaced with a pleasant feeling of fullness. It is not as good as his fingers at your clit but his obvious pleasure adds to your own. 

“I’m going to come, going to fuck it deep inside of you.” Sweat drips down his nose and the vision of him, so like when he’s in the arena might push you closer to another climax. 

“Here it comes–” He presses your legs up, opening them wider, folding you in half while he fucks into you hard enough to make the bed shake. With a low groan, and a thrust deep enough to hurt, he swells impossibly thicker for a moment before emptying himself inside you. 

He shudders, grinding himself deeper as you wince, milking himself inside your body before pulling out and falling onto the bed beside you. 

You catch your breath for a moment. Surprised, and grateful that despite there being the edge of violence to his taking you, it wasn’t the brutal, awful experience you were afraid it would be. Considering your station in life, it was quite nice. 

“Give me a little while, and I will be ready to take you again.” He turns and presses his lips to your shoulder again. 

“Again…? You wish to take me again?” There is clear confusion threaded through your voice, but he laughs, goodnaturedly. 

“Oh yes, I have you for this one night, I plan on taking advantage. Did you not enjoy it?” He rests on his elbow, head held in his palm while his other hand skates over your skin, raising goosebumps in its wake as it palms one breast, then the other. 

“I enjoyed your fingers, you brought me to climax more than I ever have on my own in a single night.” You curl onto your side towards him, soaking up the warmth of his skin. 

“But you did not enjoy my cock?” His hand lands on your hip, holding you there and it’s curiously exciting how much skin he can touch at once. 

“It was… a lot.” He laughs, nodding for you to continue. “I liked the fullness of it, but you were very deep. I could feel you in my belly and when you spilled it was intense.” He lets out a groan before pressing forward and stealing another kiss. 

“It will feel better, we have to find which position you like best. Which angle you enjoy more.” He pulls you closer, tilting your chin up for another kiss, softer this time. 

“What position do you enjoy most of all?” Your hands gravitate to his chest, pressing against it to feel his heart thumping against your palm. 

“I am partial to being ridden.” He smiles, lip caught between teeth and heat floods your body to know he is imagining it. 

“Why do you favour it?” 

“Because I like when a woman takes her pleasure from me, It pleases me, to please her.” You could see it then, his soft eyes staring up in devotion as some faceless woman rides his cock. The longer you think on it, the more that faceless woman starts to resemble you. 

“I would have you like that next.” He smiles, and you smile back, nodding. 

By the time the sun rises, he has taken you every way you can imagine and your sex is so sore you don’t think you’ll be able to walk without wincing. 

When the guards come to take you both back to your respective places, they have to physically pull him away from you, his lips pressed against yours in a goodbye kiss. 

“You are the only prize I will ever ask for.” He calls over his shoulder as you smile at him.

For the first time in your life, you are excited about the next games.

-

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[rafecameronssl4t]

Business Talk || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: You listening to Rafe and Barry talk business on his yacht. (s3 ep6 inspired)

Warnings: swearing, suggestive, idk if theres anything else lmk

Word count: 1,323

A/n: another canon fic because im obsessed with writing these 😖 pls send me canon fic requests 🙏🙏

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

"Oh my God!" Barry yells out as you hastily pull away from Rafe, who groans in frustration, "Fuck, I thought we had more time." His head drops, leaning on your bare stomach, and you can't help but giggle as you reach over for your cover-up. Rafe sighs heavily, adjusting his pants with an annoyed expression.

"Damn, Rafe. Come on, Country Club," Barry calls out, his voice echoing through the boat as he makes his way upstairs to the top deck. "Bro, how are you gonna have this and not even tell me!" When he reaches the final step, he notices you lounging on one of the sofas, looking perfectly composed. You give him a warm smile. "Hey, Barry," you greet him politely.

"Princess," he says with a playful bow, making you giggle at his exaggerated behavior. He then turns back to Rafe, who is still frowning. "You got a whole damn YMCA up on this bitch, dude," Barry exclaims, his eyes darting around the luxurious boat. You sip your drink, watching Barry's antics with amusement.

"Barry, shut up, yeah?" Rafe shouts at him, clearly fed up with Barry's incessant chatter about the boat. Barry throws up his hands in mock surrender. "All right, we need to make a move," Rafe walks over to his shirt and puts it on. "That's all we do, bro. We been making moves. Haven't we, y/n?" Barry glances at you as you watch the two talk business.

"Yeah, well, we don't have much time," Rafe says, his tone serious as he walks over to you and holds out his hand. You look at his hand for a moment before meeting his intense gaze. "Yo, come down here," Rafe says to Barry, jerking his head toward the stairs.

You take Rafe's hand as he leads you toward the stairs, your fingers still interlocked. Barry follows behind, curiosity piqued. "You're not gonna believe this shit," Rafe mutters, his voice low and intense.

As you descend to the bottom deck, Rafe's focus remains unshaken. "You seen any buyers?" he calls out, his mind clearly on the gold. Barry, now settling down on the couch beside you, responds with a chuckle, "It's always business with you, bro. I mean, I don't always live like this." You kick your feet up on the table, relaxing as Rafe heads to the fridge. He rummages through its contents, finally emerging with a few beers and your favorite drink.

"I'm just saying we need to take this shit seriously," Rafe insists, his tone carrying a sense of urgency. He opens your drink with a swift motion and hands it to you, his eyes meeting yours briefly. "Thanks," you reply softly, appreciating the small gesture. Barry observes the interaction with a raised eyebrow, then looks between you and Rafe with a smirk. "What? No princess treatment for me either?" he teases, pouting playfully at Rafe who rolls his eyes, “Get fucked.”

Barry clinks bottles with you after opening his beer, taking a swig and letting out a satisfied sigh. Moments later, Rafe returns, carrying a sleek black briefcase which he places on the table in front of Barry. You quickly adjust your feet as Barry's eyes widen in awe at the contents revealed inside. Your gaze meets Rafe's briefly before you lean forward, curiosity piqued.

"I should get a tooth made out of this, huh?" Barry quips, holding up a gleaming gold bar, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. You struggle to suppress a smile. "Look, don't be touching the shit. Just put it back," Rafe commands sternly, shooting Barry a look of irritation.

"Man, you're so paranoid. How do you put up with this shit, y/n?" Barry says, turning to you as he carefully replaces the gold bar. Rafe, exuding impatience, retorts, "I don't care about the cross. I'm trying to make money." He sits beside you, gently shifting your legs so they rest comfortably on his lap.

"I told you, my aunt, she got some contacts. She gonna help us move these little bitches," Barry reassures Rafe. Distracted by a sudden splash from the water nearby, you turn your head instinctively. Rafe notices your reaction immediately. "What is it?" he asks, concern threading through his voice. You rise from the couch, taking your sunglasses off as you move towards the edge to peer down at the water.

"Nothin'. Thought I heard something," you shrug, slipping on your sunglasses before returning to the sofa. "The gems, the nuggets, the whole damn melted enchilada!" Barry rambles on, his enthusiasm undeterred. "These gems are mint, man. The gold's bullion. We're selling it in bars, right? I'm not dealing with some half-assed pogue shit with some reject from Zales, bro."

Rafe's voice cuts through Barry's excitement, firm and cold. "Hey, watch how you're speaking about my aunt, dog," Barry retorts, scoffing. Rafe's hands, tense with stress, had already begun their way down your thighs, gripping them unconsciously. It was a telltale sign of his annoyance.

"I'm not talking about your aunt. I'm just saying, I don't fucking trust my shit with pogues," Rafe shrugs dismissively as you absentmindedly play with his rings.

Suddenly, your phone dings with a text message. Rafe leans over, grabbing your phone to hand it to you. Their chatter fades into the background as you focus on the message from your friend.

"Who is it, baby?" Rafe asks, removing his sunglasses as you show him your phone, reading the etext. "Barry, you gotta go, man," he says, watching you rise from the couch and slip off your cover-up.

"What? Why?" Barry protests, glancing between you and Rafe with confusion. Rafe sighs, his patience thinning. "Y/N's having her friends over for a girl’s day on the boat." Barry's eyes dart to you as you smile and nod. "That right? And I wasn't invited?" he says with mock offense, making you laugh.

"Next time, for sure," you assure him, still chuckling. Rafe, eager to get Barry off the boat, pats him on the back. "All right, time for you to go, bro. Good to see ya." "All right, all right, I'm going!" Barry concedes, standing up and making his way to the edge of the boat. "You have fun, Y/N!" he calls out, waving. "Bye, Barry!" you wave back with a smile.

As Barry leaves, Rafe's hands find your hips, fingers playfully tugging at the strings of your bikini bottoms. "Rafe!" you exclaim, swatting his hands away and retying the strings. "They'll be here soon." Rafe groans, "Why am I being cockblocked all day today." You smirk up at him, wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him in, "Later, I promise."