#Bulk Face Masks

[mars-ipan]

so funny when i make it back to my dorm on fridays and i’m like “god why am i tired…” girl you just roleplayed for 8 hours of course you’re tired

[ppesupplies]

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[stargirlrchive]

simon getting jealous over another coworker flirting with his work wife ? 👀

i had tew much fun writing this lmao

one — two — three — four

you don’t know how it happened, one second there was a recruit standing before you, and in the next you were shoved against the stretcher, tactical pants and panties pooled between your legs as simon bent you over to fuck his thick cock into you.

well—you do know how it happened, but it was so quick it left you dizzy.

anderson had been brought in by two other recruits, limping and grunting as they plopped him onto the medical bed. a deep gash on his upper thigh from one of the other recruits knicking his skin during practice.

it was deep, and angry—your fingers itching to patch him up as you ripped open a bigger hole on his tactical pants to get the wound cleaned. “you shouldn’t have let it get this far, anderson.”

“it’s sanders.”

you blinked up at him, a small frown on your lips, “pardon?”

“it’s sanders—not anderson.”

heat bloomed on your cheeks, the newest batch of recruits had been here for four months already and you were positive you’d only ever addressed him incorrectly. you cleared your throat, embarrassed. “i’m sorry—”

“it’s no big deal, i’m sure you can make up for it.”

your nerves flared as he cut you off, at what the grimy smirk on his face was insinuating. you couldn’t hold back the grimace on your face as you worked on patching him up and getting him out of your work space.

through the annoyance and blood pumping in your ears, you missed the big bulk of your lieutenant sliding into your space.

sander’s voice dropped lower, in what you assumed was his way of being seductive, “don’t be like that, honey.”

you forced yourself to not be overly rough with the way you were cleaning the gash on his thigh, fingers working methodically on his wound.

“i can show you a real good time.” and then his fingers were threading through your hair, the shock causing you to jostle as he tangled his fingers in the root of your hair to tug your neck upwards.

your heart pumped in anger, ready to yell at him to fuck off—to not fucking touch you. but simon beat you to it.

“get y’r fucking hands off my wife.”

the growl in simon’s voice had you tensing yet melting at the same time. shivers running down your back and heat coiling in your belly.

sanders scrambled upwards, back tense and eyes wide. you stumbled backwards, simon steadying you by placing a thick hand on your waist and pulling you to him.

“lieutenant riley—i had no idea, she didn’t-i didn’t know she was your wife.”

simon’s chest was practically vibrating with his anger, snarling down at the man in front of you like a rabid dog. heat bloomed between your thighs, clit aching at his proximity, at the way he protected you.

“i d’nt give two fucks what you know—get the fuck out of here.”

you had never seen someone leave your quarters faster, sanders left running like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs.

your body sagged into simon’s, relief filling you from the inside out as his fingers trailed over you. searching.

“you alright, sweetheart?”

you nod, heart thrumming and trying to wrap your head around what happened, “i need words, baby. talk to me. did he—did he do anything, touch you more than he did—”

you turned in his arms, face burying into his chest to breathe in his scent. “m’fine, he didn’t-i just can’t believe he had the nerve.”

simon’s eyes raked over you behind his skull mask. assessing, trying to make sure you really were alright. “i’m fine, simon. i swear. and feeling so much better because you’re here.”

he took a few more seconds to look you over, calloused finger gripping your throat gently and rubbing his gloved thumb over your jaw.

“almost fuckin’ killed him f’r touching you.”

a small laughed bubbled in your throat, leaning into him, “i’m almost positive he pissed himself. never seen you look so scary.”

his fingers loosened on your throat gently, “did i scare you?” his voice was awfully raw, almost vulnerable.

“no. thought it was hot, honestly.”

one of his fingers twitched gently, pressing into you more firmly and you felt his cock. hard and full against your belly as he walked the two of you backwards. “yeah?”

“mhm, would’ve let you bent me over right in front of him if he hadn’t run off.”

simon’s rough voice caused heat to coil in your belly as he turned you over. pressing your back down to bend you over as his cock pressed against your ass, “m’not someone who likes to share, sweetheart.”

your back arched into him, pressing your ass harder against his cock before he pinned your back down with a heavy palm and used his other one to unbutton your pants. “think you need to make that clear for everyone else then.”

[plaintshirtsuk]

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[lotus-tower]

Mask recommendations for ordering online (NA)

Note: for consistency, practicality, and simplicity all prices are listed in USD.

masknerd has a comprehensive data set on hundreds of masks he's tested according to his own criteria and methodology (pinned tweet). find his recommendations on his youtube channel. many of the following are on his list as well!

DISPOSABLE MASKS

3M Aura and Vflex: one of the most commonly recommended brands of N95. Where to buy?

- US: see here - Canada: see here - Multiple sizes per model. These suppliers are good for bulk ordering. If you aren't sure if something will fit you, check out the sample kits in the next recommendation - Price point: varies from $1-1.3 USD per mask depending on supplier

Breatheteq (US):

- KN95s that come in small, medium, large, or XS (kids) - Offers sample kits so you can test out what your size is - Comes in a few different colours. shoutout to the lavender - Earloop only - Price point: $69.75 USD for a 50-pack (~1.4 USD per mask)

Canadastrong (Canada):

- The Canadian equivalent to Breatheteq, but also carries N95s of other brands such as 3M Aura and Vflex, Vitacore, and Drager X-plore

Vitacore (Canada and US):

- N95 certified, but actually has 99% filtration - Both earloop and head strap versions (warning that the head strap seems to fit considerably smaller) - Regular and small adult sizes offered, also a kid's size - Price point: $33.99 for a 30-pack (~1.1 USD per mask)

Wellbefore (US, ships to Canada):

- N95s, KN95s, and KF94s - Head straps, normal earloops, or adjustable earloops depending on model - Kids/petite size available for certain KN95 models - Wide range of colours (excluding N95s) - Price point: varies per model, from $0.79 USD to $2.09 USD per mask - Also sells Covid tests, over the counter medication, and medical supplies

Masklab (US):

- This is an indulgent option for if you want to go out and look good, while still staying safe. These are masks that are part of your outfit - FFP2 certified, equivalent to KF94s - Standard size and slim fit series - Many beautiful patterns - Price point: $24.44 USD for a 5-pack ($4.88 per mask) for the patterned KF ones, ~$3.4 USD for the plain KF ones, ~$3.3 USD for the slim fit series, including patterns.

ELASTOMERIC MASKS

Flomask (US, ships to Canada):

- Reusable elastomeric mask (with replaceable filters) that meets KN95 standards - Two adult sizes (low/medium nose ridge and medium/high nose ridge) and a kid's size - Adjustable straps - Price point: $122 USD. 50-pack replacement filters: $81.46 (filters to be changed after 20-40 hours of use, depending on filter type)

A humble P100 elastomeric respirator from your local Home Depot or similar store! Magnitudes cheaper than the Flo mask (both the respirator itself and the filters)--however, I can't offer estimates for how often filters should be replaced. May not look pretty, but the most economical option for the highest degree of filtration if you aren't self-conscious.

General advice:

N95 or higher are the most reliable. They normally come with head straps, which offer better protection by making a tighter seal around your face.

But fit and comfort are the most important! Find a mask that fits your face and leaves the least amount of gap possible. KN95s are often more comfortable and breathable--find what's right for you.

You can wear different masks for different situations depending on risk level!

If you're hesitant to buy online, here's advice on how to tell if your respirator is legitimate.

A SIP drinking valve can be installed on any disposable mask to allow you to drink in public with less risk.

If anyone has other recommendations, please feel free to add!

[turonzamin]

Ifak Trauma Kit, 74 Piece Upgrade Tactical First Aid Supplies, Molle Ifak Pouch Rip Away Refill Supplies for Survival Camping Hiking Travel (Black)

Price: (as of – Details) From the brand TACTICAL MOLLE IFAK POUCH TACTICAL MOLLE POUCH CAR SEAT ORGANIZER TACTICAL IFAK KIT TACTICAL TOURNIQUET IFAK KIT MOLLE POUCH BAG DOG & DUMP & SLING BAG Package Dimensions ‏ : ‎ 9.69 x 7.48 x 4.21 inches; 1.1 Pounds Date First Available ‏ : ‎ July 18, 2021 Manufacturer ‏ : ‎ VIIDOO ASIN ‏ : ‎ B099RVLD5H ☺PRACTICAL FIRST AID KIT CAMPING: Our first aid…

[tojisun]

thinking about biker! simon going out with his girl and the other guys at a biker bar. reader hasn't really seen how scared people are of simon - who they all call ghost - until she goes to get him another drink. while she's at the bar, a guy comes over trying to hit on her. then this hulking, 6'4 guy in a skull mask appears and the guy is ready to run out of the bar. simon didn't even have to talk just glare. while readers like ???

ITS BEEN YEARS SINCE THIS WAS SENT IM SORRY FOR JUST REPLYING NOW :(( BUT YES ABSOLUTELY YES!! my stomach swooped when i saw this hhhhh im actually kicking my legs n twirling my hair n everythingg!!

naturally, im bad at making drabbles because this turned out long again :’) im sorry

biker!simon mlist // star divider by @/plutism <33

simon’s hand is warm on the small of your back as he leads you further into the bar. you shuffle along his languid steps, head swivelling as you try to find familiar faces in the crowd – so far, none yet.

simon chuckles from beside you, and you peer up at him only to see his eyes crinkled from underneath his balaclava, no doubt smiling at you. he bows his head closer towards yours, trying, in vain, to devour as much of the space made by the height difference between you two.

“what?”

“nothin’, sweet girl.” he presses his covered lips on the top of your head, breathing you in. “come on, i see ‘em.”

he shifts the two of you, the hand that’s settled on the small of your back gliding until it hooks around your waist, pulling you ever so closer to him. protective. possessive. it makes you hum in delight, happiness thrumming underneath your skin.

(you don’t notice the way many people shift to get out of simon’s way; heads downturned as though afraid of even meeting his eyes. you don’t notice the way they turn to each other when you two passed by, as though making sure that it was simon they saw. simon – ghost – with a sweet darling pressed to his side, his bulk warding away stray gazes. you don’t notice the way they huddle with each other, whispering promises that ghost’s girl should always be protected. because yes they fear ghost, but more than that, loyalty to each other is stronger.)

he leads you towards a small pack by the far side, the table doused less in light than the rest of the bar. johnny’s already turned towards you and simon, watching with a grin as you two make it across. kyle’s seated beside him, the younger man leaned to watch the ongoing hockey game. then you see the back of john’s familiar head, his beloved boonie slung around his neck.

“finally made it, huh lass?” johnny says in greeting, snagging the attention of both kyle and john, the two of them chiming in their own hello’s. you smile, waving at them as you claim the empty seat between simon and john.

“had to make a quick stop at 7-11,” simon responds, his hand curling at one of the legs of your chair before pulling you towards him. the metal squeaks against the tiles, the sound thankfully drowned out by the loud bass.

“oh did you?” john asks, ignoring whatever simon did given how they’re all so used to his soft displays of possessiveness. he offers you a smile when you turn to him with a nod.

“had to buy, um, medicine for my stomachache.”

it’s endearing how their faces shift so fast, little smiles falling as worry takes over. even simon, whose hand is draped on your thigh, tenses, gripping as though he was remembering how he heard your pained whimper or saw you sniffling as the ache echoed, throbbing just below your ribs, choking you up.

“are you feeling any better? did it subside now, at least?” kyle asks.

you nod, quick to reassure them. “the medicine worked! i’m feelin’ better, i promise!”

they relax, tensed shoulders going lax as life flutters back into the table. you smile before sinking ever so closer to simon’s side, shying away from the intensity of their affections for you – your own little band of brotherhood, visceral in the way they care for you.

simon’s grip loosens on your thigh, choosing instead to massage the muscle tenderly. you hum, turning to ask him what he’s getting.

“whiskey, maybe,” he murmurs, his voice muffled by his mask. “you getting your bellini today, love?”

“yes please,” you reply, blinking up at him.

his eyes crinkle again, a telltale sign of his smile, before he pats your thigh and gets up to place the order.

you turn to the group, tuning into johnny’s rambling, listening to him recounting his rally. it was the one you weren’t able to go to because of work, johnny having to reassure you multiple times (even through text) that it’s fine that you’re missing it. so you listened, enraptured, nose scrunching in confusion whenever johnny slips into heavy scottish in his excitement.

“english, mactavish,” simon sighs as he falls back to his seat, startling you. you see johnny flip him off and you make eye contact with kyle, sharing twin looks of exasperation.

simon slides you your bellini and you whisper a thanks, trilling when he noses the top of your head again – your clingy boy.

the conversation rises and falls, sometimes leaving your mind wandering when they start talking about shop, sometimes catching your attention so much that you find yourself leaning on the table, breathless and wide-eyed as you listen to their bike stories – johnny had continued about his rally, kyle talked about the repairs he did for a client who he’s sure is on the run, and john shared that horrifying experience he had on his way home where he thinks he saw a floating woman by the east side highway.

“your turn, big guy,” you say, tapping simon’s knee.

simon finishes his whiskey – his balaclava tugged just enough to show his chin and his lips – before plopping the empty glass on the table with a sigh. you huff a fond laugh, knowing that one glass isn’t enough to satiate the thirst so you dust imaginary dirt off your skirt before standing up.

he tilts his head up in question, arm still hooked around your waist.

“gonna grab us more drinks,” you say. “oh, tell ‘em about the gas station incident!”

he grunts, nodding, and yet he refuses to budge. you fondly roll your eyes and turn to the others. “drinks?”

they all shake their head, johnny specifically saying he’d have to order for himself because he’d want to try the house specialties. you nod, pinching simon’s arm as you dance away from him with a bitten grin, before making your way to the bar.

you prattle away your order, telling the bartender to add the tab to your table, and hover, swaying to the music. it’s a foreign rock band playing, the bass and drums reverberating loudly, you can feel the vibrations pulsing along your body, and you almost get lost in your own thoughts when a hand slides to your back.

you startle, mind quickly cataloguing that this isn’t simon. because simon, for all his impressive silence and his displays of possessiveness, never sneaks up on you like this. he has never let you doubt your safety while with him. so you back away from the stranger’s touch, your hands pressed close to your chest before finally turning to see who went up to you.

the man, who seems to be about your age, smiles upon seeing your face. “hey there, angel.”

the pet name makes you nauseous and your stomach churns once again. you have to ask for the medicine from simon when you return to the table.

“hi,” you squeak, not letting him off your sight.

“you seem new here. i am too.” he laughs, scratching his neck. then, “it really ain’t my scene.”

“uh-huh,” you say, not knowing what else to tell him.

his chuckles peter out, a suave smile replacing what had been an awkward display of forced laughter. he clears his throat. “so, what’s a sweet thing like you doing alone here?”

“she ain’t alone, kid,” the bartender answers for you and you turn to him, surprised, before thanking him as he presents you with your whiskey and bellini.

the bartender nods to you in reply before crossing his arms in front of his chest and addresses the stranger again. “go bother someone else.”

the man arches a brow in question, his lips pursing in distaste. “oh yeah? she seems pretty available to me.”

the phrase hits you badly.

your anxiousness bleeds away to make room for your ire and you snarl, dropping your hands from where they’re pressed on your chest to rest them on your hips.

“what did you just say?” you ask, your voice a measured anger. “i’m fucking what now?”

he raises his hands up like he’s pacifying you. “hey, hey. didn’t mean that, my pretty girl-”

“she’s not your anything, you mad wanker.”

the sound of simon’s voice makes you settle, a wave of safety and comfort washing over you, dousing the angry churning in the pit in your stomach. simon steps from behind the stranger, towering over him, before moving to stand beside you. his hand hovers, questioning, and you give him a soft nod that gets simon pulling you close to him. his hand falls to the small of your back, caressing, and you wonder if he knows that the man had grazed his hand there just minutes ago. if simon’s doing this to overwrite the unpleasant feeling that was sticking to you.

“oh,” the stranger breathes out and you notice the way his hands are trembling, the tight balls of his fists turning his knuckles white. “i, uh, i’m sorry, ghost.” then he’s off, running out of the bar with his tail tucked between his legs.

you huff at the realization that the mad man didn’t even apologize to you. what a fucking prick.

“you doin’ alright there, baby?” simon asks, pulling you to him. he settles on an empty bar stool – you are sure those were filled just minutes ago… – and tugs you so that you are standing between his legs.

he cups your cheeks, thumbs tracing lines just underneath your eyes, and it makes you drag a shaky inhale.

“i’m sorry, sweetheart. i should’ve accompanied you.” simon sounds distressed, his eyes furrowed in the intensity of his worry.

you coo at him, it’s your turn to cup his jaw this time. “i’m alright, si. i promise.”

he shifts his eyes between yours, searching for anything besides the truth, and he folds himself into you when he sees that you mean it. you laugh, patting at his head, wishing that he doesn’t have his balaclava so you can play with his hair, before turning to the bartender who, in the sudden absence of customers by the counter, is watching you two with a pinched smile.

“thank you again,” you tell him and he grunts, nodding. simon straightens up and groans as he stands, his big body unaccustomed to the tiny bar stools.

“yeah,” he says, addressing the bartender. “thanks for bein’ here for my girl, alex.”

the bartender – alex – just waves his hand around in dismissal. “it’s nothin’, really. now go away, i want customers.”

simon and alex laugh, sharing an inside joke, and you swivel your head around in confusion because now that alex had mentioned it, where did everyone go? and why are they all huddled together, far from the bar?

simon closes his hand on your wrist and pulls. you barely manage a goodbye to alex who waves at you in reply.

…alex?

“wait. that’s alex?”

best believe that simon has connections anywhere he goes. if not for himself, it’s for his girl!!!

me, shamefully staring at the word count (1.8k) of what should’ve been a drabble: well now…

[yawnderu]

Simon ''Ghost'' Riley — Masterlist 💀🖤

cr: @ave661

Simon Riley Moodboard | Smut Masterlist | Bimbo!Reader Masterlist | Dad!Ghost Masterlist

This Masterlist only has the material I've created in 2024. To explore older works, you can check my Main Masterlist, or use the tags #Simon Riley x Fem!Reader or #Ghost mw2 on my profile to access all my works!

Do not translate, post, or put my content into AI tools.

Ongoing Series Lorelei

Synopsis: Aware of the way his lifestyle doesn't align with your dream life and unwilling to quit his life as a soldier, Simon breaks things off with you. It isn't until a year later that he sees you again, a tiny carbon copy of him held in your arms.

K-9

Simon Riley and his pathetic efforts to get close to the new medic will earn him a scar or two

or

Simon Riley is in love with an uninterested, tired medic.

Angel

Synopsis: Afraid of giving you the same destiny all his loved ones met, an emotionally unavailable Simon does his best to pretend being in love with you for one night, later deciding to introduce you to the one person who can give you the love you want; John Price.

Smut

Silly love-making

Simon's obsession with pornstar!reader

Sex on camera

No man could act this good

Using his naked body for art purposes

Love-making

FWB!Simon cucking your hookup

Tattoo Artist!Simon

Prettiest girl in Edinburgh

Hybrid cat!Reader tag teamed by Simon and Johnny

Soul-crushing devotion and medical emergencies

AI!Reader gets a physical body

Neet!Reader jerks him off

Hybrid wolf!Simon x Catgirl!Reader

Sleep-walking, but fucking instead

Simon becomes vocal when you give him blowjobs

Rimming him

Monster fucker

Dick headcanons

Catgirl in heat

Drabbles

Gym bros Johnny and Simon

Creature!Reader

Tag team 🌶️

Simon Riley is a stray, roughed up cat

Seduction goes against the rules

Nymphomaniac!Reader

Immortal!Reader

The phrase ''the wife'' is always in Simon's mouth

Choking🌶️

Cock warming🌶️

Lipstick marks on his cock

Neet!Reader sniffing his armpits

Milf!Reader drives Simon insane🌶️

Military high ranked!Reader

What turns him off

I have no faith, but I believe in you

You and your daughter love his tattooed arm

Simon is a furnace

Creature!Reader cuddles

Asking for sex after he had a bad day

Cumming too early🌶️

Wearing a white wife beater

Girl dad

Raccoon

Simon makes weird faces under the mask

Juiciest ass in the Task Force

Bulking

Dating a MILF

Naked cuddles

Relationship similar to Batman and Catwoman

Work Song

Cumming on your glasses🌶️

Touch starvation

Fluff & Hurt/Comfort

Expensive presents

Displays of trust

The most broken man turns to religion when you're hurt

A man without big pecs is like an angel without wings

Simon Riley was made for soul-crushing devotion

Broken man in love

Cuddles after a bad day

Simon is a giant black cat

Ai!Assistant Reader

Ai!Assistant Reader bothering Simon

Second chance at being an uncle to your niece

''I'll be the weapon when he needs protection''

Moody catgirl

Red panda hybrid!Reader

Hiccups during sex🌶️

First relationship

Angst

Emotionally unavailable

Immortal!Reader doesn't come back to life

Angel - Part I | Part II

[minihotdog]

Have You Seen My Boyfriend?

Summary: You see Simon in the mask for the first time

C/W: angst (?)

A/N: I've been wanting to write this fic for a while now and I didn't really know what to do with it BUT @celestialwhoree wrote this lovely fic right here and it lit a fire under my ass. I also don't think Simon would wear his mask outside of combat-active areas sooo I threw that out the window to make this work.

Word Count: 723

He didn’t even remember that he still had that damn balaclava on when they touched down on the runway. Months had gone by and eventually, as it always did, it began to feel like a second skin.

He never let you see him with it on either. Simon made sure to keep Ghost on the field and Simon at home. He’d watched countless men throughout his career take work home with them and the damage it left on everyone they touched. He wasn’t perfect. He had his own struggles in disconnecting from the adrenaline and danger, but he’d been meticulous so far.

Since you came into his life the balaclava stayed in his ready-to-go bag that you weren’t allowed to touch.

The bulk of the unit grabs their bags and heads towards the hangar as fast as they can, happy to be freed from the C-130 they’d been cramped into like sardines for hours. Their families wait for them, cheering as they get closer.

Simon knew you didn’t like crowds and messaged you to meet him at the compound instead, he’d instructed a private to let you inside the barrack’s common area to wait for him.

You were sitting on an ugly old brown couch fidgeting with your fingers. He’d been gone for months and your excitement to have him back home was mixing with the anxiety of being in this environment that didn’t feel right for you to be in. You wondered if he’d get in trouble for letting you be there.

At some point, you get on your feet and begin pacing away from the door in case they barge in to take you away for being in a restricted area unsupervised.

Simon detours to throw his bags in his office before heading towards the common area. His weapon and clips are long gone, turned into the armory waiting for his next embarkment. His vest is still snug on his frame, his skeleton-printed gloves still donned with months of sweat and grime soaked into the fabric, and his forgotten balaclava sticking to him absentmindedly.

You jump out of your skin in fear when the door swings open and spin around on your heels to meet your awaiting demise. Your nerves don’t subside when a giant man steps into the room. All the air suddenly gets sucked out.

He’s covered head to toe and the only thing your eyes can focus on is the skull print on his face. He closes the door behind him, his eyes not leaving yours.

You swallow harshly, trying to force words out. Or do anything to save yourself.

“Have you seen my boyfriend?” You squeak out. You watch the mask move over his features and you avoid his eyes at all costs. The overcast from the eyeholes makes them look like black holes.

“Y/n,” He breathes out while taking a step closer. You swear to yourself he almost sounds like your Simon but the alarm bells continue going off at the sight of him. You take a step back and in his exhausted state, it finally clicks. His eyes close and his eyebrows furrow in disbelief. He looks over you taking in your reluctance and the fear coursing through you.

Fuckin’ Hell

He reaches up slowly to not scare you. His fingers pull at the fabric at the top of his head slowly pulling the balaclava off to reveal his all-to-familiar face, his messy blond locs sticking out in every direction.

“Jesus, Simon!” You gasp, running to him and banging on his chest. “You scared the shit out of me! What the fuck!”

He wraps his arms around you, pinning you to his chest. You writhe in his arms trying to escape.

“I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to.”

You look up into his sad chocolate brown eyes now freed from the darkness that hid them before. “I never wanted you to see that, doll. That isn’t me, I promise.” His voice comes out soft and full of regret.

He yanks his gloves off letting them fall to the ground so he can lace his fingers in your hair. He holds you against his chest, occasionally brushing his lips against your forehead.

Cats out of the bag.

He doesn’t know what to do now. What if this is the start of something he can’t prevent?

[vivwritescrappythings]

sworn sword

knight!könig x plus-size!fem!reader

part 1 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6

there has been civil unrest in the kingdom, prompting the king and your father to hire a knight to protect you. thankfully it is a knight you already know.

tw: fem reader, plus size reader, mentions of body image, not proofread

wc: 1.8k

masterlist

—

“The king insisted upon having a knight guard you,” your father said, hands clasped behind his back as he faced you.

He stood in front of the large windows overlooking the courtyard and the rose gardens. Your father had been appointed to the King’s Counsel, moving himself and you to the royal palace while your mother stayed behind to handle the estate and your sister’s wedding to Ser Garrick.

You were brought along to the palace with the hope that it would make finding a husband easier. Of course it was quite the same as at home, just the competition broadened from just your sister to the entirety of the other women at court. You were still too soft around the edges while the other women were willowy and slight in their gowns.

It was hard to hold a candle to them.

“A knight?” You were hardly important enough to warrant a knight being hired to keep track of you. Perhaps a City Guard member would make more sense, but a knight was far too grand.

The king was being cautious. There had been a few attacks on members of the castle as of late—a lord on the counsel was roughed up outside of a pleasure house, and a few servants had been robbed of their coin for their daily shopping. There had been plenty of unrest in the kingdom after the death of the queen, the poor becoming poorer as the king scrambled for some semblance of control.

Your father gave you a look, silencing your next protest as you closed your mouth. Living in the palace already made you feel like a bug caught in a jar, eyes constantly scrutinizing your every move… every word. A personal knight would only make that worse, a shadow to follow you for every moment of every day.

“He has already been selected, so save your arguments.” Your eyebrows lifted, hands folded primly in your lap as you waited for your father to continue. The high-backed seat you were in was uncomfortable, arm rests digging into the plush of your things as you crossed your legs at the ankle.

He stopped at his desk and leaned forward to rest his palms on it. There was a moment of contemplation, his lips pursing like he was going to speak. You watched him look up at the large double doors across the room.

“You may enter,” your father called.

The heavy door creaked as it opened, your whole body twisted so you could get a proper view of who entered. The height of his shoulder against the door told you the knight was massive before he even stepped inside fully. The armor looked new, shiny and polished and dent-free—likely freshly gifted from the king himself.

Then rather than a face, a mask with two crude holes cut for eyes in the black fabric came into view above his bulk. Your heart started to race, your gaze meeting Ser Kilgore’s for a brief moment as he clasped his hands behind him and looked down at the stone floor.

“Ser Kilgore has already taken the oath to be your sworn protector,” your father said as you stood. The top of your head hardly reached Ser Kilgore’s shoulder, your eyes widening as you turned to face him.

He had not seemed so massive from the stands at the tourney.

“He will be with you from sun up to sun down until the king deems it safe enough for him to be dismissed.” You still balked at the knight, wondering if he had volunteered or been chosen. Of all the men in the kingdom, your father and the king had selected him. You brought the stuffed bear with you from home, it sat on the window sill in your chambers.

You remembered yourself after a beat of silence. “Thank you, Ser,” you breathed, curtsying even though he was not looking at you.

He let out a grunt of acknowledgement, still as silent as he was at the tourney. You wondered what his voice sounded like as he picked his head up. His blue eyes were piercing, crisp like a stream in winter. You felt pinned in place by his stare, swallowing thickly before averting your own eyes.

Your father shifting some papers on his desk reminded you of his presence.

“Was there anything else you wanted to discuss?” you asked your father, looking at him over your shoulder. He dismissed you with a shake of his head and a wave of his hand, turning his attention to the thick ledgers on his writing desk.

Ser Kilgore opened the door for you, following you into the hall at a few paces behind.

You had no idea what to do with the shadow that loomed over you all day. Ser Kilgore lingered at the edges of rooms and just outside doorways, silent and stoic. He never removed the covering over his face, never spoke. He only observed.

It made you realize just how boring your days were. You spent time with the other noble ladies at court—mostly the daughters of lords and the younger princesses—embroidering and having tea in the garden and gossiping with thinly veiled turns of speech.

Nothing you did warranted his constant protection, that was certain.

Part of you wanted to force him to speak to you–wanted to demand that he answer your questions. He conversed with no one, only nodding or shaking his head with other knights when they stood shoulder to shoulder.

Perhaps he lost his voice in an accident, you imagined gruesome images of Ser Kilgore surviving getting his throat slashed and vocal cords cut. You heard a story of a knight who had his throat crushed by a horse and still lived—could that be your knight?

Your knight. What an odd phrase.

His head was always covered, you had no clue what lingered beneath. But you were certainly curious.

Evening soon fell, your knight dutifully escorting you to your chambers. You walked next to him, his long stride shortened to match yours. It had taken you most of the afternoon to convince him to stop walking a few paces behind like a shadow. At least at your side you could pretend he was a companion rather than a sworn sword.

“Does this assignment bore you?” you finally asked, glancing up at him. It would bore you–watching a noble woman do nothing aside from chatter amongst other women and embroider handkerchiefs and walk the gardens all day seemed miserable.

Ser Kilgore shook his head, his light eyes cutting down to meet your questioning gaze. His eyes were the only part of him not covered: his blonde eyelashes were long and curly, his irises shining like aquamarines, the slivers of pale skin visible against the frayed fabric seemed delicate–there were a few thin edges of scars peeking around the fabric.

How desperately you wanted to pull the hood from his face and see the man underneath. You had been thinking about him ever since the tourney, fantasizing about what he sounded like, what he looked like beneath all of his armor.

You narrowed your eyes at his silent response, head cocking to one side as you inspected him. “Can you speak?” It might have been a rude thing to ask–your mother always informed you that you were far too brash for a respectable noble lady.

It never stopped you before.

He huffed softly–a laugh, you guessed. His eyes creased at the outer corners like he was smiling.

Another nod. You only ever earned yourself nods and head shakes.

“I have not seen you speak to another person all day.” It sounded accusatory rather than a simple observation. Well, you were accusing him. If he could speak, why would he choose silence? You resisted the urge to cross your arms over your chest like a petulant child.

Ser Kilgore shrugged his broad shoulders, still smiling beneath the mask.

You could scream with your frustration.

“Considering that we will be spending the majority of our time together from now on, I would appreciate it if you at least tried to speak with me,” you said, sounding more entitled than you intended to. “Existing in this castle is lonely—I never know who is truly my friend or friend or is simply trying to spy on my family—I would like to have someone to trust.”

Ser Kilgore looked at you for longer this time, head tilted down to take you in properly. You still followed the maze of hallways to your chambers, each one the same: braziers lining the walls and illuminating the tapestries and paintings hung up, sometimes there was the odd statue. The polished stone floor echoed your footsteps, the hallway otherwise quiet.

He did not shake his head in either direction: no affirmation or denial of your statement. Just a curious gaze taking in your expressions.

He stopped outside the polished wooden doors leading to your chambers, settling with his arms behind his back as he nodded for you to enter. His armor rattled a bit as he moved, the chainmail on his arms catching the light of the braziers lining the walls and throwing shadows across the stone.

“Goodnight, Ser Kilgore,” you finally huffed, slipping between him and the door. You knew you were being petulant like a child that did not get her way. You pouted anyways, lips pulling into a sort of frown.

The door was heavy to pull open, forcing you to put your whole weight into it. Ser Kilgore reached over you, a hand curling around the side of the door and opening it for you.

“Goodnight, my lady,” he responded, surprising you with his deep, accented tone. He sounded like he was from one of the eastern territories. Each vowel was clipped, consonants harsh. “If we are to be friends, call me König.”

You gaped at the sudden sound of his voice, stuck halfway inside the doorway. It was simple enough to tell that he was smiling that time, mirth shining in his eyes as he looked down at you.

A million questions to ask him flooded your mind. It felt like you had to keep him talking now that he spoke, part of you worrying that this opportunity would not occur again. You wanted to ask him why he picked you at the tourney—it had bothered you for months.

“My lady, we have already started heating water for your bath,” your maid Agatha said, drawing your attention. You glanced away from him for a moment, seeing her filling a wooden tub near the hearth with pails of water.

König nodded for you to go in, surveying the slice of the room he could see from the partially open door. The stuffed bear he gave you was visible, set atop a book on the window sill. He stared at it for a moment before redirecting his gaze back to you. You hesitated another moment before taking a step from where you had been rooted moments before.

“Goodnight, König,” you amended, earning a huff of laughter and a nod of acknowledgment as he allowed the door to swing closed behind you.

[charliemwrites]

Part 7

Content: sparring and injury

Sparring is one of your favorite activities. With your team, it’s a chance to learn and improve, to keep from falling into old habits. And yes, okay, it’s also become something of foreplay. Especially with your captain, who seems to delight in tossing you around and pinning you with his bulk.

(And Keegan, who came in his pants once when you had him in a chokehold, one your thighs between his. But no, no, now is not the time to think about that…)

You’re not the best hand-to-hand operator on the team, sure. That title belongs to Nikto, who hits so hard and fast you’re down before you even realize he’s swinging. But you’re certainly a force to be reckoned with.

Not this much though.

If you were in the mood to give them credit for anything — and you’re really not — they’re at least subtle. You don’t catch on during the first round with Soap. Your brain has completely transitioned into the comfortable rhythm of practice combat. Something to be taken seriously, but not the high-stress of victory or death in a mission.

No, Soap gets away with it in the moment. You only notice as you’re taking your water break, rotated out with the uneven numbers between your teams. You’re surveying the pairs and notice him sparring with Keegan.

There’s something decidedly more intense about it. Like… like he’s putting real effort into trying to beat Keegan. An effort he did not put into fighting you.

Rage burns through you, hot and thick, buzzing in your head.

Does he think you’re not worth any real effort? Does he think you can’t handle a proper fight, that this is just playtime? Is he really treating you like some fresh-faced recruit that needs to be babied after all this time?

When you captain finishes wiping the floor with Gaz, you go to his side. One look at your face and he knows.

“Whose head is rolling?” He asks, plucking your bottle from your hand for a sip.

“Soap threw our match.”

His eyes flare before he closes them, swallows the water in his mouth and sighs.

“How do you want to handle it?” He asks.

“Wait, wait,” Gaz interrupts. And the look your captain gives him… Christ. To his credit, he doesn’t back down though. “He probably just thought it would be good, yeah? To… let you get some anger out.”

You run your tongue over your teeth, a mean laugh slipping out. The captain arches his eyebrows in what could almost be sympathy. Or arousal, hard to tell when he’s got such a good poker face. (Mix of both, you figure)

“Oh, he wants me to get some anger out?” You roll your shoulders. “Sounds like a great idea.”

Ghost is your last match before reset — before you’ll get a chance to show Soap just how much steam you need to let off.

Except now that you’re looking for it, you recognize almost immediately that he’s throwing the match. Probably especially because it’s Ghost. You never stood a chance against him before leaving, even now you didn’t have optimistic expectations for a fight with him. So the fact that it doesn’t feel like you’re working for every inch you gain…

The final straw is when you try a move from before. Something he never fell for once and always reprimanded you for using. He “falls” for it this time. You don’t pull your punch when it goes directly into his face.

Know immediately that he’s feeling it, that wicked hook Keegan always whistles over. Blinking past his mask. And you don’t let up, pressing and pressing the advantage. Take him down to the ground using all your built strength, twisting into a vicious arm bar and pulling, pulling, pulling—

“Bloody hell, I yield!” He snarls, palm slamming against your thigh.

You release him, but not without one last nasty kick to the soft spot beneath his ribs.

The gym has gone silent. You don’t care, pushing to your feet with hands still balled into tight, angry fists.

“You ever throw a fight with me again, I’ll break your fucking jaw, Riley,” you snarl.

Price, expression stormy, takes a step forward.

“He threw the fight?” He asks.

You scoff, “Either that or the 141’s quality is lacking nowadays.”

You step off the mat to join the rest of your team, exchange a frustrated look with your captain. Nova comes to your side, curling a finger into your belt loop in solidarity.

“Gotta say, Price, I’m disappointed,” your captain says. “This is getting out of control. I won’t have my team put at risk because yours can’t keep it professional. I’d rather just tell Laswell to get you a different support team.”

You’re almost surprised to see how the 141 jolts, four pairs of eyes flicking to you in panic. What in the actual hell?

“Take it easy,” Price says, eyes flashing. “I’ll have a word with them.”

You glance up at your captain, see from the twitch in his jaw and the tightness around his eyes that his patience for this is wearing gossamer thin.

“See to it. In the meantime, we’ve got work to do.”

He turns his back on the 141, and you’re all too happy to follow suit, pressing a kiss to Nova’s cheek when she sends you a worried look. Whatever weird issue the 141 is having, they need to stop making it your issue.

“Keegan, with me,” your captain says. “Nikto, you’re up against the girls.”

Nikto tilts his head in a nod, then jolts as you and Nova take either side of him.

“Gonna show us a good time, Nik?” You coo.

“Always love a tag-team,” Nova purrs.

The captain grins. “Have fun you three.”

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Simon loves being Price's demonstration dummy. He loves the aftermath even more.

cw: sexual content, a horny lieutenant, body worship, oral sex, anal sex.

"Start by securin' a grip on yer opponent's arm with one hand, and use the other hand t' grab their collar or shoulder. Carrier vest works well too."

Simon stood at his captain's side, his body relaxed as he prepared to go airborne in the name of practical demonstration. He'd be lying if he said it wasn't his favourite part of the week... well, that and what always followed.

He watched Price from beneath low lashes, drawing deep, slow breaths through the fabric of his mask, if only to keep his bloody heart from thumping through the wall of his chest in excitement. Price's hands warm and firm against his body even through the cotton of his shirt, and his skin tingled in their wake.

"Step t' the side and lower yer hips while bringin' yer opponent close to ya," Price said, his attention on the new recruits gathered around the mat. Simon didn't resist as his captain drew him close, but he did breathe him in; sweat, deodorant and cologne, a deep musk that gathered at the back of Simon's throat, made his mouth water. Simon wanted to shove his nose into his ruffled hair, underneath his arm, across the ruff of his chest, for that scent to soak through to his bones.

"Yer shoulder should be positioned under their armpit. As ya pull yer opponent forward an' down, rotate yer hips and shoulders into them. Use yer legs t' lift an' drive yer shoulder into their body. Big fuckers like this? You gotta use their weight," Price moved and Simon's feet left the floor, "against 'em."

Simon's back hit the mat, punching a grunt from his chest, and he felt the familiar thrill unfurl down his spine as Price's body crowded over him. He studied the dark v-shape of sweat in the front of his shirt, the glisten of wet up his throat that disappeared into the scruffy stubble of his beard. Fuck, Simon wanted to lick it off him.

"As yer man's thrown, maintain yer grip t' control his fall and prepare for a transition into a dominant position or submission. Grapple, choke. Don't pause t' catch yer breath," he explained, half sprawled over Simon's body, his thick chest pressed to Simon's, so close that Simon felt the vibrations of his voice against him. "Any questions?" There weren't any. "Good. Pair up. Technique over strength."

The squaddies grabbed a buddy and headed to the other mats, and Price looked down at his junior officer's face. "You bulkin'?"

"Yeah."

"Thought so. Had to put some welly behind that one," Price said, lopsided grin making Simon want to shove his tongue down his throat. Those blue eyes framed in scruff and laughter lines, the curves beneath his sloped collarbones, the effortless way he had thrown Simon's sizable bulk to the floor, his form perfect, the explosive power in his body exercised with trained precision; everything about him made Simon feral.

The captain rolled to his feet and Simon grabbed the arm he offered down. "Take the four over there. Positioning like that's gonna lead to somethin' tearin'."

"Rog."

Simon wandered over to correct the indicated trainees and Price observed another set. This latest batch were promising, but they were almost skittish in their desperation for approval. More likely to make mistakes and second guess themselves. They needed to relax into it, listen to their instinct over the noise in their head. Simon decided to break the ice with the next demonstration.

It was a simple manoeuvre that tended to be a whole lot of fun to finish the session; the ranger roll. Quick and snappy way to pluck someone from the field and leg it under fire. Price was a pro at it. Simon upped the difficulty by latching onto a nearby bench, locking his legs so that Price flailed on his back halfway through the roll, splayed over Simon's belly with an arm hooked under his knee.

"What the fu--?" Price glanced up, saw Simon's ploy and elbowed him in the gut in retaliation, smirking. "Ya bloody muppet." The recruits laughed, their stances noticeably relaxing as Simon shrugged apologetically. Ice broken. Price rolled to his feet and performed the move again. This time, he lifted Simon from the floor, and Simon draped over his shoulders with a soft, satisfied hum. Fuckin hell, he needed Price on his back, needed those strong thighs around his hips, needed to hear that gruff voice sex-rough, fucked raw.

Simon suffered through another twenty minutes of watching others perform pale imitations of Price, before the captain finally dismissed them to the showers, heading out of the gym to his room.

Simon stayed long enough to ensure no one lingered by the dumb bell rack before swapping out of his boxers and shorts to a pair of grey joggers; he wanted as little between him and his prize as possible. Hands shaking, he knocked at Price's door after pursuing him down the corridors, shouldering his way inside only when Price greeted him from behind it. "Feelin' impatient, Simon?"

Simon watched as Price stripped off, revealing damp curls of chest hair, the sweat-slick curves and slopes of his body, still pumped from exercise, thick and flushed. His mane of brown scruff was ruffled out of place, sticking up in all directions, begging for fingers to grab it, to tug until he was forced to show his throat.

Simon's cock thickened in his joggers, pressing out against the soft grey material, and he folded his mask up above his nose in anticipation. Price chucked his t-shirt onto the floor, standing there in his shorts and nothing else, built like a fuckin greek hero and begging to be defiled, blue eyes dark. "C'mon then, boy. Come get it."

Simon didn't need telling twice. He growled low in his chest and surged forward, barreling Price into his bed, his mouth pressing to his throat as he ground his hip forward between Price's thighs. "Mmf, fuck, yeah," Price moaned, fingernails snagging in Simon's t-shirt as he bucked eagerly.

Price arched, his body begging for worship even if his voice stayed stoic, understated. For now. Simon buried a hand in his hair and pulled his head back, sucking and laving biting kisses down the arch of his throat to his chest, mouthing thick muscle with desperate, wet licks, before sucking a nipple into his mouth with a grateful moan. Price tasted like heaven, raw masculinity and power, and Simon wanted to overwhelm him, overcome the strength roiling beneath his skin, possess it and feel it wrapped around his prick until it yielded to him.

Mine, mine, his mind chanted, his nose burying in Price's armpit as he forced one of Price's arms above his head. Simon ran the flat of his tongue into the groove of it, tip flicking over the veins in his bicep before he sucked kisses into that flesh too. Price gasped, a low, raspy sound deep in his throat, his erection pressing up into Simon's belly, and Simon sank off the edge of the bed as he worked lower.

There was a layer of plush on Price's abdomen and Simon nipped at it, tonguing the trail of hair that disappeared below the waistband of his shorts, before wrenching those down too. Price's full cock bounced free, the slit wet with precum, but Simon ignored it to bury his face in the dark curls around his sac, inhaling the deep musk of him with a feral, half-wild growl.

"Filthy git," Price said through a throaty laugh, only to dissolve in a low moan as Simon sucked, wet and open mouthed, at his balls, teeth threatening tender skin in a way that made Price's cock twitch and throb with arousal. Simon didn't leave him waiting too long, swallowing the thick bulb of his glans to the back of his throat, tongue writhing and wriggling beneath his shaft. Price arched, strong fingers scrunching at Simon's mask and then dropping to grip the blonde tufts that escaped the back of it.

Simon let him fuck up into his mouth, his arms curling around his thighs to pull them apart, Price's heels nudging the backs of his shoulders. It was erotic, the way Price's body moved in search of pleasure, even splayed and vulnerable. His command didn't falter. "Nnh, Simon, fuck, fuck... Yer mouth's a bloody treat, sweet'eart."

Simon growled and pulled off, leaving strings of saliva and cum to trail down his chin to the tip of Price's cock as he stared up the naked length of him to the mischievous blue eyes watching him. Price knew what he was doing. Knew how he was baiting Simon to fuck him until his legs didn't work and his throat was raw from the moaning. Simon's cock ached, the brush of soft fleece enough to make him rut forward against the mattress in search of pleasure. "C'mon, Simon. Fuck me," Price snarled, strong thighs testing Simon's grip on them.

Simon surged up his body to smash their mouths together, teeth catching chapped lips, the taste of copper between them as he snatched the bottle of lube from where Price had chucked it in full anticipation of the railing he was about to receive. Simon squirmed out of his joggers, thick cock rutting into the sweat and spit slick skin of Price's hip, fisting the bed sheets with one hand as he gathered enough self control to tilt to the side and soak his cock in lube. A messy fist smoothed the gel down to the base before gathering Price's legs up his torso, his tip pushing into the snug grip of Price's hole.

"Mmf, fuck, slow, slow... Fuckin hells," Price snarled, nails biting into the side of Simon's neck as Simon quivered under the strain of self control. He rolled his hips in short, measured thrusts, easing in slowly, hunching down to kiss the grimace of concentration off of Price's face.

Simon was a decent length, nothing to sniff at, but it was the girth that truly satisfied, left people wrecked. It had taken previous lovers time to work up to and even Price, practiced and experienced, huffed deep breaths as his body yielded to it. "God bloody fuck, mm..." Price cussed, pushing his head back as he rocked up to meet Simon's hips, sliding himself up and down the full length of him. "Yeah, tha's it, right... Ah, right there, Simon, fuckin... Ah."

He was fucking beautiful like this. Beautiful. There weren't a word that fitted better. Blue eyes misty, his head thrown back, the flush of pleasure down his neck, splashed across his furred chest. His legs spread wide and wanton as Simon's fat cock sank into his greedy hole. Simon wanted to look, but he also wanted to taste, his teeth scraping through the scruff of Price's beard on their way to his neck. The pace was sweet torture, the pleasure curling up his spine, his balls pulled tight, sinking in all the way to the hilt, hoping Price'd be able to feel him in his guts if he thrust deep enough.

"G'wan, fuck me proper, boy," Price rasped, rewarded almost immediately with a firm thrust that startled a yelp out of him. It was all the encouragement Simon needed, gathering Price's legs to his shoulders as he began to piston his hips at a relentless pace, fucking hard and fast into the warm, wet clutch of Price's body.

Simon loved making Price loud, his bitten off cusses peppered with lower moans, gasps that almost bled into whines when Simon found the right angle. It was a complete and utter fracture of his iron control, and Simon revelled in it. His own noises ran away with him; snarls, growls, Price's name, his title, sir. The dizzying pleasure unspooled through him from head to toe, the day's tension burning out of his muscles with every pant of exertion, Price's body milking his cock with the most delicious friction.

Price didn't touch himself. He never did at first. He liked being fucked; liked the way a thick cock felt as it spread him open and pounded his prostate, his hands fisting the bed sheets as he met each thrust, demanding. When Simon shifted onto his feet, curving Price's hips up until he was fucking down into him like an animal mounting a mate, deeper, harder, than before, Price finally fisted his cock in search of his building release.

Simon lost track of anything but the heat of Price's hole, the pulsing clutch of it around his prick, the increasingly desperate noises each of his thrusts punched out of Price's chest. His orgasm curled up his spine, pulling taut in his muscles, his balls high and tight as he held off until the end he desired.

Price's hand stuttered and then he was spilling, thick ropes of cum splashed over his chest and neck, his impressive cock throbbing and flicking in the circle of his fingers as he teased himself through the aftershocks. Simon went to pull out, but Price snarled, "Don't you... fuckin dare. "

It flicked a switch in Simon's head, cut the final thread of a chord that had kept him tethered, and he began to rut like the animal he was. The wet slap of his hips grew louder as he chased his high, Price's groans broken around the pain-pleasure of overstimulation, his hole more lax post orgasm, relaxed, sloppy with lube and precum, the noise of Simon's cock fucking into it as obscene as his command to be bred full that punched out in the next breath. "Fuckin... breed me, Simon."

Simon came with a bitten off shout, grinding down into Price 's body as his balls emptied in hot, heavy pulses. Price moaned, pressing up into Simon's hips, rocking slowly as Simon's stuttering thrusts ended with him staying as deep as he could until his cock had stopped twitching, brimming Price with a week's worth of frustrated build up.

"Fuckin hell," Simon rasped, slumping down onto his elbow as he drew out, satisfied by the wetness that covered Price's thighs in the aftermath, and the puffy redness of his fucked out hole.

"Hope they do," Price murmured, shaking legs dropping off the edge of the bed. Simon slumped onto his back, and Price rolled onto his side, following him. "You broken?"

"Nah. Fuckin knackered."

Price barked a laugh. "Simon 'One Nut Wonder' Riley."

"Fuck off," Simon blustered through a laugh of his own. "Aren't you meant to be gettin' a limp dick at your age anyway?"

"Watch it," Price shot back, but without heat. He patted around blindly for his cigarettes and lighter, striking one up between his lips. He took a toke before passing it across to Simon, who puffed smoke at the ceiling thoughtfully.

"Surprised maintenance haven't beasted you for that smoke alarm yet."

"They'd have to catch me first."

"Wiley bastard."

Price smirked as Simon passed the cigarette back, smoke curling from his nose as they both gazed thoughtfully into the dark above them, comfortable and quiet in the afterglow.

They fucked again a few more times that night; slower, closer to lovers than the raw fuck of earlier, and Simon spooned up behind his captain, thrusting into him as he tenderly kissed his neck, drawing out softer moans and praise. "Yeah, Simon... Mm, fuck, that's, ah, ah, please..." The way Price arched into him, muscular body spreading itself eagerly to be pleasured, gravelly voice demanding and pleading in equal measure, made Simon heady with lust and adoration.

Simon wasn't sure what the fuck they had, what it was called; he knew it was wrong by the standards of the service, but they'd have to pry it out of his cold dead hands.

[that-one-malereader-enthusiast]

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞 • 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞

╰┈➤ 𝐈 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐀𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐞

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐲

cw : MDNI - S2 Armand, journalist male reader, top male reader, switch Armand, sub Daniel, dirty thoughts, mentions of sexual interactions, nsfw, Louis is definitely third wheeling, sexual tension, fake rashid reveal, mind fucking, teasing, this is my old man yaoi, somnophila, Armand gets the old man pass, they eye fucked eachother so much, i needed a taste of these two sorry, when no one can do the work, you gotta do it yourself, power play, stalking, Armand is a creepy little cat, Daniels the confused German shepherd, my drabbles become so thought out why, consume at your own risk, not proof read.

You knew it.

You fucking knew it the whole damn time.

At first it was just a guess, just a joking remark made as you worked with Molloy with Louis interview. You didn't believe him when he spoke of vampires, but seeing truly is believing, and Rashid was the oddest guy you'd met. That sweet smile, those longing looks towards Louis, the way he almost seemed to be acting—

Oh but you found that out really fucking fast.

Spoiler alert, you can see the plot twist from a mile away.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

"Jesus Christ, it was about damn time! How obvious do you have to be before someone finally outed you as a vampire?"

Daniel turned to you in a somewhat shocked fashion, though he was mostly squinting towards you for some sort of half assed explanation you were going to give him, but Louis put his expression into words. "You...You knew?"

"Yeah, but to be honest, he wasn't exactly doing the best job at hiding it. I mean, even if he was trying to, it was a little too on the nose at the beginning. Also, not saying Rashid is a bad name, but you definitely don't look like a Rashid." You then happened to gesture to Armand who was now standing side by side with Louis. You knew you'd promised Molloy that you would tone it down, that you would stay tamer than normal for the sake of getting out of Dubai in one piece after everything was said and done, but now there were two vampires rather than the one. "Not to mention how obvious you are."

"Pray tell, how obvious was I?" Armand asked. So far he'd spectated and predicted you were just as childish as Daniel when he was younger. With eccentric thoughts and an active imagination. That you were simply in over your head.

Oh how wrong he was.

"Well, for starters...it never seemed like you were similar to the other servants? I don't think I dare even saw you wear a mask before, whether that be to simply hide faces or to prevent anything from spreading, I found that odd." You chimed. "Not only that but we've seen Louis drink from you, and yet someone as...lanky, someone who looked like a stick ready to break — no offense — but you walked away like it was nothing, while a Russian biscuit the size of a bulk barely stood for two seconds before falling out.."

Only then did you gesture to the other room compared to the one you were currently in. "Not to mention, when we caught you praying the other day, you prayed in the darkest side of the room. Even if you did walk past the light, it was briefly or almost unseeable. And God, from the way every time I turned to you and watched you practically eye-fucking Molloy, I wouldn't have been shocked to know that you'd met him before."

Armand's expression was unreadable, almost repressing his feelings. Especially after the last observation you'd made. He stood next to Louis who squinted in a questionable fashion while looking at you, and Daniel? He didn't expect you to suddenly come out like that, and so boldly, though that was simply your personality.

"Now, if you three don't mind, I think I'll go to bed early. After this whole fucking soap opera of a reveal, I have to probably prepare myself to take in whenever you came into Louis life and what the hell happened then." You dismissed yourself, not back towards Daniel as you made your way out. That stare Armand had given you that entire time was unnerving, but there was something behind it.

You then called out as you proceeded to make your way to your room. "And I hope that there's an actual Rashid! Or I will be very disappointed!"

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

God when was the last time you and Daniel had a good fuck.

Before the trip to Dubai, the two of you had different lives, and as much as you loved smothering the older man, you had a job as well. It was unfortunate that you two couldn't have your fun till after the trip was over, but at least Daniel noticed how irritable you'd started to get. After all, you'd been stressed before the trip and didn't expect things to take this long.

You groaned out as your hips slowly rocked into the others, his warm body against your own and lips kissing feverishly against his skin. You knew that he was trying his best to sleep, but you couldn't help yourself.

Not as if he minded, he's the one who agreed the two of you could atleast sleep like this.

"Fuck Danny, baby..." You rutted your hips up accidentally, causing him to groan out and nudge you as red took over his face, cheeks, even spreading to his ears.

"Calm down, I have to sleep for later so we can continue the interview.." He could feel your arms practically caging him, holding against the plushness against part of his stomach. Daniel could barely think with how tired he was, and you? You were full of energy at the moment, sleepy, but still energized.

"But you're so tight Daniel...so fucking...oh—" You slowly grinded yourself against him once again before finally giving in as he wrapped a hand back to run though your hair. "Needed this, bad. Felt like I was having withdrawals."

"From sex?"

"From you," you admitted. "And this tight ass..."

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

The next afternoon, you and Daniel went to the small cafe to fill up before the interview, though he'd been chewing you out about your past behavior. How he knew you were always a stickler for believing in superstition, but to understand that these vampires were nothing to fuck around with.

You could have refuted that with the amount of evidence you had that those fanged people were hornier than a dog humping a pillow.

You joked about it, as if it was your second nature, but Molloy seemed more stressed out than normal.

"You're gonna get yourself killed in there, you know what they are, why are you pushing things so far?" He sounded annoyed at that point, watching as you rolled your eyes and tried to dismiss his emotions towards the situation.

"Jesus Molloy, you act like the world is gonna end."

"Maybe not, but you have no idea who these guys are. You don't understand how dangerous they can be. How dangerous they are." He urged on.

You laughed and continued eating the raw fish that was on your plate. "Sure," you drew out.

It was then that he stared at you. Molloy stared at you with that look, the look you knew all too well. He continued staring you down before you sighed and gave in. "Fine! Damn it, I'll be good! I'll tone it down! I'll...I'll play this little game they're trying to get at. But I'm only doing it because you asked."

"Look, I just want us to get out of this in one piece." He urged on, now poking at his food, appetite diminished from the idea alone. "I dragged you into this mess, if you want to leave, you can."

"Damn it Daniel, you know you didn't drag me into this, I wanted to come. Turns out the vampire bullshit was real after all, but you're dumb as a box of rocks if you think I'm just gonna leave you here. I'm going nowhere." You let out a chuff of a chuckle before nudging Molloy, giving him a reassuring smirk. "And I know that Daniel Molloy sure as shit won't let anyone outsmart him like this."

"Alright cocky brat, I hear you. Just be careful. Armand looked like he's two seconds away from ripping your head off last time."

"Oh, Armand would have already if he had the balls to do so. If anything, I think the real threat in the room is you know who..." Finishing the rest of your dish after popping the last piece in your mouth, you now gave Daniel the knowing look.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

"Fuck, Armand—no wonder Louis loves to fuck you in his free time." You panted, watching as the vampire squirmed below you. You held his waist with a bruising strength that would normally feel uncomfortable for any human. But you knew that the vampire was durable. Heating his moan and mewl as your hips slapped against his ass, back arching up into you like a needy cat in heat. You didn't let up either, slamming into his body with brute force behind every thrust.

It was only then that you heard the mix of Armand and Daniels voice, gray haired individual cursing out as he gripped tightly onto the pillow behind his head. His glasses were gone and his face was flushed red as your thrust urged Armand to thrust into him. The vampire turned his head, as if trying to steal a kiss from you, pouting even. But you ignored him, leaning over to press your lips again Daniel's as his eyes fluttered closed, lashes dotted with tears and a muffled cry leaving him as Armand rammed his hips, almost in a jealous fashion.

Your fingers then found themselves threaded in the vampire's hair, only to yank his head back while a cry escaped his drool soaked lips. "You listen to me and you listen to me good. You think..you're all hot shit for a vampire, but I really know what you really are — Armand," you hissed out against the shell of his ear, dipping your head down before biting directly against the side of his neck. Your canines dug down into his tender flesh — not enough force to pierce — but enough to bite down onto the muscle below, knowing the skin would blemish and bloom due to your brutish actions.

The feeling alone made him cry out, hips stuttering between both you and Daniel. It was only then that you heard Molloy let out a gutteral noise in retaliation.

"You're my bitch in heat, understand?"

As Louis continued his interview, retelling whatever he could recall while letting Daniel read Claudia's entries, you kept your mouth shut and kept your comments to a minimum — as promised. But your thoughts, they ran rampant as you keep eye contact with Armand, watching as his eyes pierced into your own soul while peering into your mind. You could see a shift in his face features, his shoulders tending up as your expression stayed unchanging like a statue.

"Sorry to cut you off, I'm gonna step to the bathroom if that's alright. Lunch doesn't feel like it's sitting well," you addressed those in the room as you moved your notebook out of your lap and onto the table. "You good being alone in here for a sec Danny boy?"

"I'll be fine — and don't call me that, Jesus..." He muttered, shaking his head and overall dismissing you as he saw the shit eating grin on your face.

"Just askin' is all. Last time I left, I came back to you slapping Louis. Still never got an explanation for that one..."

"I assure you, nothing will happen to Daniel while you're away," Louis assured, giving you a genuine look to try and persuade you.

"Whatever you say," you stated, not giving the other stoic vampire the time of day after. Not a glance back or a thought for him to breach. Instead you left and got into the bathroom before starting the sink and splashing water on your face.

Even as you tried your best to hide it or ignore it, you could feel you growing erection making into a tent against your jeans, especially at your own thoughts. You almost dazed out back there and didn't even notice, but you knew that you'd finally hit the mark with Armand. With the way he was staring you down, you wouldn't have been surprised if he confronted you about such things.

It wasn't until you looked up in the mirror that you saw those predatory eyes stalking you again. By the time you whipped around, you were almost slammed into the sink, grinning as Armand grabbed against your throat. There was no real strength behind it, just a placement.

"Pervert, snooping through my thoughts even though I'm pretty sure Louis said that doing such a thing was off limits."

"He did not say such a thing," he quickly addressed, sneering at the grin that stayed in your face. "Who are you to have such thoughts about myself."

"You didn't say much about it. But to mention you seemed like you were enjoying it yourself pretty boy..." Your hand felt against his own groin, your grin only widening at the erection he seemed to pull as well. Watching as he stiffened up again made your arousal flare and his eyes seemed to soften. It almost looked as if he was trying to stop a noise from coming out with how fast his lips pressed into a thin line.

"I know one thing, Armand. You wouldn't be here if you didn't want something from me." Peeling his hand from your throat, you grabbed his face and pulled his closer. He did nothing to retaliate, almost melting at the semi rough gesture. "If you wanna be of any help while we still have time...I think you could put that mouth to good use."

To have Armand on his hands and knees? It was as if Christmas came early. But God, he looked absolutely divine as he slid down between your legs. You could only hope that Louis wouldn't mind sharing his immortal partner, Armand.

The vampire Armand?

More like Armand, your personal cockslut.

You could only wonder how fast he could be before one of the others came to look for the both of you.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

[turonzamin]

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[01zfan]

confident | j. sc

boyfriend!sungchan x reader | 7.3k words

this is in the anything 4 u verse but it is NOT part three. this happens before the series!

contains: dom/sub dynamics, cum eating, this is kinda filthy LMFAO

anything 4 u: confident | one | two

your unwavering confidence bordered on arrogance and was so palpable that people called you all the names to match. brash, overconfident, cocky, presumptuous. sungchan knew that peoples words about your personality only further solidified the notion in your brain that you were the shit. 

sungchan believed it was all an act at first. he knew you when you were meek, never letting your personality show to anyone besides him and shotaro. sungchan remembered when you were all limbs, growing into your face, and perpetually awkward. he knew what you were because he was the same way, just lanky and uncoordinated stumbling through every social situation. but somewhere along the way you started acting like you had unwavering confidence. you stood a little taller, spoke a little louder, and focused on looking people in the eyes.

you had gotten so used to putting on the mask that it became a part of you. it wasn’t a bad thing, your confidence made you stand out and go for things you wanted in life. you made connections and boldly made friends, and advocated for yourself. he saw the way you tricked your mind into being cocky until that’s what you became and he respected you for it. sungchan even envied your ability to turn on your charm at the drop of the hat. you could be scowling one moment and then all smiles and alluring the next—it was no mystery how you were able to get people to kiss your feet so easily. 

sungchan was a victim to your charm. he was able to admit that he was powerless against your pouty voice and pleading eyes when you wanted something. but he was able to convince himself he was different from everyone else. he was different because he was one of the few people in your life that saw your personality change from a nervous teenager to a confident young woman in realtime. he was also different because he was the only person who could make you realize your unwavering confidence put you in situations where you bit off more than you could chew.

that’s why sungchan laid on his bed with his hand behind his head as he video called you. it was deep into the night, but he was wide awake. the adrenaline rush from turning in a group project buzzed in his mind, and reading your compromising texts from the past week kept him alert.

you had fully taken advantage of the fact that sungchan was predisposed for his group assignment. he couldn’t hang out with you due to having to devote all of his time into the final project that was worth a bulk of his grade. you understood, so you let your boyfriend lock himself away in his dorm and the library but there were moments where you couldn’t handle it.

sometimes your messages would be sweet. you’d send sungchan little anecdotes of your day or send him pictures of things you saw that reminded you of him. sometimes it manifested in a quick text while you were walking to class, looking down at your screen and typing away instead of trying to avoid running into people. 

sometimes the messages would be abrupt. a few times it was sungchan texting you at odd periods of the day saying that he needed to see you. he treated you as a little pick me up, asking you nicely if you could come by his building just so he could see your face and give you a quick peck on the lips.

anytime sungchan would send you a text even remotely needing anything in the drop of a hat he’d get a picture of you outside his building. if he needed to see you he’d get a picture of you outside the bench of his dormitory by yourself and if he asked for food it would be a selfie of you with a bag of takeout clutched in your hand. 

you didn’t know how to describe your sudden need to do everything for sungchcan. maybe it was because he did such a good job of taking care of you, even if it came at the expense of his own comfort. there were moments in your relationship where you didn’t know why sungchan was so doting, why he acted the way he did—why would he be outside your dormitory building the moment you told him you were bored or why he’d offer to drive you anywhere you wanted to go. but when you saw sungchan come out of his building for the first time with his eyes wide from surprise you understood. just hearing the words thank you baby fall from sungchan’s smiling lips made you want to do anything for him. you couldn’t equate the feeling you got from sungchan bringing you in for a grateful hug to anything else. it was something like adrenaline and pride starting in your heart and working its way up to your head before spreading across your shoulders. the ability to take care of someone who so earnestly took care of others made your back straighten and gave you even more of that dangerous confidence.

the fact that sungchan had to reluctantly leave almost as soon as you saw him did anything but help. almost immediately after you handed him the food or gave him a peck on the lips he was heading back up to work. you also had to become the responsible one, denying sungchan’s silent attempts to get you to come back up to his room with him. you knew that you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from distracting sungchan from his work, and that he wouldn’t stop you either.

you seemed to enjoy taking care of him so much and sungchan let himself enjoy it too, he saw it as a privilege to be doted on by you. so he humored the worried texts about getting enough sleep and he even texted you a few times that he was hungry just to see what you’d do. he was indulging himself in being spoiled by you. sungchan couldn’t stop his big toothy grin when he felt you become him overnight. now it was you kissing sungchan goodnight before he retreated back to his dorm, it was you slipping your hand into the back pocket of his jeans when you two would go on walks, and it was you bringing him in closer by his waist when you two would kiss.

one of the few things that was still sungchan’s was the job of compromising texts—something he took great pride in. he had mastered the art of keeping a straight face in public while sending you teasing and flirtatious texts about he was going to do to you when you two were alone. he could be talking to his friends in the dining hall and text you under the table that he missed the way you felt around him without missing a beat in the conversation. sometimes he would send them when you didn’t expect it. at a party while you were dancing with your friends, at dinner while he was sitting on the other side of shotaro. sungchan remembers vividly walking into the library and seeing you already there, sitting at an empty table with your back facing him. he smiled at your focused state, how you slightly nodded to the music in your wired headphones. he leaned against the wall, letting his fingers do all the work while he focused on your upwards facing phone and your hunched body working away on an assignment. when the text was sent sungchan smiled and waited, watching your hand absentmindedly reach for your lit up phone while he tucked his away. he liked being able to tell the exact moment you read his text, if you’d be able to stay quiet deep in the corner of the library in between the rows of dusty books. he took pride in seeing your head quickly dart around the room to see where he was.

the combination of not being able to see sungchan for longer than five minutes at a time and your newfound confidence of taking care of him made you bolder than usual. that’s why deep in the night when you missed your boyfriend in other ways your texts would become exponentially impure. you thought about how cruel it was to have sungchan so far away from you when all you wanted was to be with him. the project unfairly came in your relationship where sex was new and the two of you were figuring everything out about eachother. you always thought the urge to live underneath sungchan’s skin was bad, but after he touched you for the first time it was getting harder and harder control yourself. when you pulled him close by the legs wrapped around his waist for the first time you became insatiable. just as you started to get used to the feeling of his sweaty chest pressed against yours he was gone, keeping himself under lock and key to finish the semester successfully. 

maybe it was because the roles were reversed, how you were the one servicing sungchan all week. the fact that you were doting on him and asking how his day was and if he ate made gave you think you were him. not being able to see him made you needy, and being needy combined with the fact that it was late at night and your boyfriend wasn’t touching you all over made you insatiable. the only way you could attempt to comprehend how you felt was venting out all your sexual frustrations in your boyfriends messages. so every night, almost like clockwork, you would fall apart and text sungchan every step of the way. 

the first time sungchan received a text from you his eyes almost bulged out of his head. he had perfected his texts over time, finding the perfect balance between sexting and non-assuming teasing. you were different—you skipped through the double entendres and beating around the bush and went straight for the kill, telling him how badly you missed backshots. sungchan made the mistake of sending you three question marks immediately, because you sent back a list of everything else you missed back. he was distracted for the rest of the night, rereading every bullet point while his work was staring at him on his dimming laptop screen.

sungchan quickly found out you didn’t know what to do with the power of texting. he knew that being behind a screen gave you the confidence to tell him such lewd things. although you were confident, and that was something no one could ever take away from you, you were weak for him. sungchan took it as a compliment, how you couldn’t keep eye contact for too long or how you would smile slightly thinking he couldn’t see it. he could see the way you got the nervous jitters around him and how you were still hesitant to ask him for favors. in the bedroom your shy habits only increased tenfold. you had the disgustingly cute habit of hiding in the crook of sungchan’s neck or screwing your eyes shut when he would look at you. sungchan found it to be a pleasant surprise how you were during the act, making every time he had you in bed a battle. one side of him wanted to coax you to become more comfortable, but the other side wanted to force you to look him in the eyes as he mocked you for being so submissive. you were nothing like the fiery, confident, and smug girl in the bedroom. you were full of please’s and thank you’s and whimpers about how good everything felt. 

sungchan knew that you knew how shy you were. so he was surprised when he read your text message on the following night talking about how you badly you wanted to ride him. suddenly the girl that only spoke when spoken too in bed was declaring that she would make him beg for it. 

each sexual promise or confession of your lewd desire sungchan would send you back an equally desperate text. he imagined you smiling to yourself on the other side of the screen, completely unaware of what you were getting yourself into. he let the tension build up, he let you get bold due to the academic obligations keeping the two of your apart.

when sungchan finally submitted the assignment he learned back in his desk chair. he let out a heavy sigh, stretching his limbs out so far that he heard the satisfying crack of his bones. he grabbed his phone to send the official text to his group that the project was turned in and they had a presentation in a week. like the whole duration of the project, all he received was a thumbs up from one person and silence from everyone else. he would have the time to complain about how awful his partners were later, right now he had more important things to tend to. right as he sent the text your name appeared right on schedule, another compromising thing in the message preview.

i need you to nut on my face😕

sungchan laughed to himself seeing that one. tacking an emoji to something so unhinged made sungchan almost send you something equally unhinged back. but he realized that he had all the time in the world now, and you had completed your assignments for the week already.

so he leaned against the headboard of his bed, hoodie on as he pulled up your contact. he debated on texting you, telling you that he finished the project early. he thought about calling you and letting you hear the tone in his voice when he asked to come over. but sungchan thought about what you were doing right now, laying in bed watching your television shows as you sent him dirty texts. he wondered if you were wearing that cute pink pajama set he bought you on a whim last time you were out. sungchan decided he needed to see your face, even if it was trapped in the flat dimensions of his phone. when he saw the infamous three gray bubbles appear at the bottom of the chat sungchan wasted no more time and pressed the option to video call you.

while your video call was ringing, sungchan settled more into the bed. he spread his legs, and tucked one of his hands behind his head to show you his arms. he didn’t have a project to worry about anymore and he already felt the stress melting away as he thought about himself becoming your biggest problem tonight. he had your messages pulled up in the background, all the nasty promises you made the entire week. 

you answered on the final ring, camera close to your face as you laid in bed. he couldn’t stop himself from smiling as you pulled the camera closer to your face. 

“what’s wrong” you asked first.

“can i come over?” sungchan asked.

he didn’t want to beat around the bush. he was impatient and spent the whole week apart. sungchan watched your eyes widen. you adjusted yourself in the screen of his phone.

“you’re done with your project already?” you asked.

sungchan tightened the grip he had on his phone hearing the nervous twinge to your voice. 

“just turned it in.” he said.

sungchan watched you on his screen silently nod. he could practically see all the text messages you sent over the course of the week run through your head. you were already frazzled, and sungchan had to move out of frame so you wouldn’t see his smile. once he composed himself he returned back to frame.

“so can i?” sungchan asked again.

“yeah. just text me when you’re outside.” you said.

almost immediately after getting your confirmation, sungchan hung up on you. he made sure to text you see you soon, smiling at the direct reply to your last filthy text. sungchan was quick packing his overnight bag, stuffing his toiletries in his backpack before heading out the door.

when sungchan was halfway to your building, he realized that this was the longest he had been outside in the past week. the only time he spent outside was to go to the library or to class. each time the outdoors seemed overbearing, the only thing he could think about was getting inside of the air conditioned buildings to work on his project. but as he walked across campus to you everything seemed to be better. he walked briskly but had a pep in his step. he listened to the cicadas chirping while he reread all your messages with a smile on his face. sungchan didn’t even care about the humid heat that made his skin feel sticky. he felt like it was a perfect night when he made it outside your building, looking up at the pale brick building to locate your floor. sungchan was able to send the message without even having to look at his phone.

i’m outside. back entrance.

sungchan’s message stared back at him without being read. he let a minute pass, kicking rocks underneath his feet as he waited underneath the singular light. sungchan debated on coming through the front entrance, sneaking in behind the steady stream of girls that were heading in and out. but sungchan knew that would only lead to you getting in trouble for sneaking in a man into the all girls dormitory. because of the no boys policy, you found yourself at sungchan’s place more often than he was at yours. he almost invited you to his place, but he remembered that you specifically mentioned fucking him in your dorm on top of your bed. so he gladly settled for waiting outside the designated sneak-someone-in entrance while mosquitoes circled him like sharks. he even made himself look relaxed, leaning against the brick of the building when you opened the door.

you only opened the door a crack, peaking through hesitantly like you were making sure sungchan was really there. he opened the door the rest of the way by an intentional hand that was placed on top of yours.

sungchan noticed that when he closed the door you refused all eye contact. you shyly scratched at your face, muttering a distracted hi underneath your breath and placing a quick peck on his lips. you turned on your heel almost immediately, quietly walking down the halls of your building while sungchan trailed a little too close behind. he was tempted to put a hand on your lower back just to tease you, but he settled for lengthening his strides so you had to walk a little faster.

sungchan followed behind you the same way you always did with him. he caught you peaking over your shoulder when you two would turn the corner before quickly looking forward again. sungchan had to bite his lip and keep his head down to stop himself from laughing at the nervous look breaking through your facade. even if you knew the way to your room you still hesitated with each step, motioning to your door like he didn’t know which room was yours. you focused all your attention on putting your key into the lock, and sungchan purposely took a step forward to cage you between him and the door. 

“i like your nails.” sungchan leaned his head down way too close, acting like he was looking at your nails while lowering his voice. “when did you get them done?” he asked innocently.

“a couple days ago.” you said quietly, pushing open the door.

you opened it quickly, and sungchan was grateful the sound of the hinges covered up his breathy chuckle. while he turned to face the door to regain his composure he heard you quickly take off your shoes go deeper into your dorm to create distance from him.

when sungchan turned back around he put on his best un-assuming face, having to bite his lip again at another sight. even though you made your desperation known through text sungchan had no outlet. working on his project gave him no time, and the idea of touching himself didn’t hold a candle to you. he let himself indulge in you once again, how you stood in front of him so pretty in your pink pajama set with your eyes wide as saucers. he wanted to close the space and pick you up like you weighed nothing, he wanted to lean you against the wall in your entryway and make up for lost time then and there. but he kept calm as he recalled how confident you were in your abilities to manhandle him over text. 

you weren’t the type to shy away from sungchan’s gaze. most of the times you challenged it, making it a game to match the intensity. when you were kids and he would glare you would glare right back, even adding waving your hand in annoyance to raise the stakes. you matched his flirting looks, when he lowered his eyelids you’d do the same. but now, as sungchan looked down at you from his spot beside the door you found yourself looking away. he seemed bigger in the context of your room for some reason. even though you had seen sungchan nearly everyday for as long as you could remember he looked so much stronger than the man you were teasing for the past week.

the severity of your texts flashed across your mind but you couldn’t bring yourself to admit defeat just yet. so you cleared your throat and motioned to sungchan to come deeper into your room.

“make yourself comfortable.” you said.

sungchan’s gaze went back to normal in an instant, he bounced from his place in your entry way to walk past you. 

“such a good host.” he said.

he wasted no time throwing his overnight bag on your office chair and sitting on the edge of your bed. he watched you with a smile on his face, how you purposely left his line of sight to retreat to your mini fridge.

“do you want anything?” you asked.

sungchan hummed, fully extending his legs and swaying his feet on the ground. he took a page from your playbook, pulling the same move you pulled on him when he’d beat around the bush.

“i want you to come over here.” sungchan said.

almost instantly he heard your movements in the fridge cease, and you came back into his line of sight as you walked to him. sungchan spread out his outstretched legs as you came closer and you slot yourself between them. you were quiet, waiting for sungchan to say something first. he let his hands hold on the back of your thighs and he pulled you in, forcing your timid feet to step forward until your legs pressed into the bed. sungchan creeped his hands down to your knees and back up. he repeated the motion until you put your hands on his shoulders and started smoothing out the fabric of his hoodie. 

sungchan drew his feet in, and went from looking at your stomach to looking you in the eyes. he felt your hands on his shoulders hesitate for a moment before going back to their ministrations. 

“you gonna do all that stuff you said over the phone?” sungchan asked it calmly, smiling when he saw your lips part in shock.

you nodded your head quickly, eyes still wide at his bluntness. sungchan saw you notice the anxiety resting on your features because you cleared your throat and moved your hands to sungchan’s to pry them off of you. he listened immediately, bringing his hands down to the edge of your bed to hold onto it. sungchan saw the look of determination and the way you furrowed your eyebrows to try and seem domineering. he humored you, sitting completely still as he waited for you to tell him what to do.

“take your jacket off.” you said hesitantly. 

sungchan smiled and nodded, bringing his hands to slowly untie the drawstring of his sweats. you still stood in front of him, completely frozen as he gave you a show. sungchan couldn’t remember the last time you were so quiet.

when the drawstring of his sweats were undone, sungchan went to his hoodie and pulled the zipper down. he was slow, letting the sound of the metal teeth unzipping fill the room. your eyes were already becoming glassy before him, and he almost felt pity for you. he rationalized his enjoyment by telling himself it was for your own good, that you should’ve be so cocky. words are nothing if you don’t have the power to back them up. so sungchan slowly takes off his hoodie and throws it to the side, leaving him in loose sweats that barely hug his waist.

sungchan can tell you got another wave of confidence from the way you pushed him to the bed. he could say honestly the sudden pressure from your hands on his shoulders took him by surprise. his back his your bed with a dull thud, and within seconds you were crawling on him. sungchan quickly put his hand on your ass and used the other to get further on the bed. you followed his every move and pressed your lips to his neck. sungchan immediately felt you suck on the skin, and you teased the sensitive area with your teeth. 

you two were tumbling messes on top of your sheets. while sungchan tried moving further onto the bed you were only focused on feeling every part of him. your artificial nails scraped his abs, and your other hand suddenly went to the bed to give you both stability. when sungchan tried slipping his hand that was on your ass underneath the fabric of your sleeping shorts you smacked it away.

he rested on the bed fully, looking up at you. you straddled his waist, breathing heavy from your desperation and your attack on his neck. sungchan could already imagine the red angry mark that was going to form in its wake. he was silent watching you, waiting for you to do something else. he experimentally brought his hands to your waist after the silence became overwhelming and you smacked them away again. he let his hands rest beside him on the bed with a hiss and flexed his fingers to distract himself from grabbing at you again. 

sungchan was shocked that you so quickly understood what it meant to be dominant. he already felt on edge waiting for what you were going to tell him to do, he even got the urge to beg to touch you. when he parted his lips with a please on the tip of his tongue your hand clutched the wrist of his left hand. you threaded your fingers over the back of his hand and guided it to your body. sungchan thought you would only give him access to the soft skin of your waist, but you guided his hand to your stomach, and then greedily pushed it downwards. 

“you know what to do.” you said shuddering.

sungchan needed no more guidance, he instantly pressed his palm flat to your stomach and pushed down past your waistband. sungchan changed the position of his hand to further stick it down your pants. he watched his hand disappear past the waistband of your shorts before he looked up to you for approval. you nodded and lifted your hips slightly from his to give him more room. sungchan took the extra room, he even took the chance to bring his hand back to your ass to lift your hips higher. you let him, leaning forward until you had to keep a hand of the bed beside sungchan’s head to hold yourself upright.

he immediately started working your clit with his index and middle finger. he was impatient, rubbing quick circles to make up for lost time. you didn’t do anything to stop him, and sungchan smiled smugly seeing you lull your head backwards. his hand on your ass gripped harder and he let out a grunt. at sungchan’s noise you came back to your senses, and you grabbed his forearm to get his attention.

“finger me.” you said.

any attempt to add bass to your voice was futile. your tone was whiny, and the same pout you’d get when you were asking for something stretched across your face. but sungchan nodded again and gave you exactly what you wanted. his fingers drifted down from your clit to your core. sungchan used your arousal as lubricant and pushed his digits into you, all the way until he had nothing left to give you.

sungchan alternated between looking at you and his obstructed view of his fingers disappearing into your cunt. he felt you squeeze around him the same time you let out tiny mewls. you were so desperate trying to hold back your sounds, holding onto whatever power trip you were on. sungchan wanted you to give in and submit to him already. he didn’t need anything in your texts anymore, he needed you under moaning loudly with sopping wet eyes. so he gripped your ass a little harder and started guiding your hips backwards on his digits. sungchan looked up at you, how you had your eyes closed in bliss and bit your lip. you were distracted, following sungchan’s guiding hand until you were bringing your hips started going backwards instinctually.

“that’s right.” sungchan didn’t have to move his hand anymore and fully focused on watching you do all the work. “keep going baby.” he cooed.

almost immediately, your hips came to a stop and you pressed your hand flat to sungchan’s chest.

“don’t tell me what to do.” you saiid. 

although your voice was still distracted from being touched, your body remained steadfast. you no longer moved your hips back to follow sungchan’s guiding hand. instead you reached into your sleeping shorts and pushed on sungchan’s hand, silently telling him to start fingering you again. he wordlessly fell into his place, working his fingers the same way he always did for you. he withheld teasing remarks when you became sopping wet around his fingers and filled the room with the wet lewd sounds of your cunt. sungchan only silently obeyed, silently hoping that you would get meaner throughout the night.

when he started feeling you get close, you pressed your chest so deep into his sungchan thought he was going to lose his breath. he wrapped his arm around your back, pressing hard just to feel you squirm. you started whimpering in his ear, and sungchan swore he heard a rushed good boy fall from your lips. he drove his fingers into you faster and didn’t stop until you wedged your hand between your bodies to grab his wrist.

“let me—i’m going to ride you.” you said quickly. 

sungchan took his hands off of you as you went to one side of his body to take your shorts off. sungchan was faster than you, he even had time to take his condom from his pocket and rip open the packet. he pumped his length a few times watching you impatiently take off your clothes. your set was discarded over the edge of the bed and sungchan successfully put on the rubber, holding his dick upright as you went to straddle his waist again.

you were hesitant lining up his dick at your entrance, sungchan could feel your hole seize around his tip after you slightly lowered your body. he realized then that you had never actually rode him before, it was always sungchan keeping your hips suspended while he drove up into you. sungchan smirked to himself at the realization that you never did any of the work but you still had the nerve to tell him multiple times this week about your determination to ride him. so instead of helping you ease down he put his hands underneath his head, looking up at your knitted eyebrows and your lip caught between your teeth. he reluctantly held back coos encouraging you or telling you how good you felt as you sunk down further and further. he only watched you with a smile on his face as you realized midway you couldn’t handle it. he purposely thrusted his hips upwards slightly, just to hear you let out a squeak.

“don’t stop now.” sungchan smiled.

you didn’t have enough focus to chide sungchan the same way you did before. you were enveloped in trying to take all of him, to ride him the way you promised. sungchan saw his chance to tease you relentlessly and to take back the dominance you tried to claim as yours.

when you took all of sungchan you slowly raised your hips and lowered them again. your palms pressed into his chest for stability as you tried to find a rhythm. you pathetically readjusted your body, changing the position of your knees to find proper angling. sungchan mockingly pouted to your face while your eyes were screwed shut from the effort and stimulation. you pushed your knees higher up on the bed and it finally gave you the ability to start rocking slowly. you whined from the pressure and silently hoped that sungchan would take pity on you. you didn’t realize how hard it was to keep going without sungchan’s hands guiding your body up and down. 

“about time.” sungchan took one of his hands from behind his head after you started slowly riding him. he ran his free hand through his hair so he could have a clear view of you falling apart. “took you long enough.” he teased.

hearing the mean edge to sugnchan’s voice made you think he had seen you suffer enough. you thought he had taken back his role as the dominant one in bed, and you could go back to being the one that took it all. so you whined again, and moved your hands from sungchan’s chest so you could press your chest against his. but instead of letting you collapse against him so he could plant his feet into the mattress and fuck up into you, sungchan put his hand on your shoulder to keep you upright. when you stopped moving completely his other hand from behind his head started pinching your burning thighs each time you slowed down or broke your rhythm.

“i thought you said you were going to ride me all night?” sungchan asked.

any rebuttal you had was trapped in your throat. you were weak, not even bothering to smack away sungchan’s fingers that were nipping at your flesh. all you could do was pitifully shake your head and try to fight against sungchan’s hand that was still pressed into your shoulder.

“barely lasted a minute.” sungchan cooed mockingly.

“please.” you were nearly crying, not even knowing what you were asking for.

sungchan couldn’t describe what he felt seeing you finally submit to him. your eyes were becoming more and more wet by the second, and each time he pinched at your thigh you screwed your eyes shut and let out little pitiful sounds. the lesson he was trying to teach you left his mind the same time he let go of the hold on your shoulder. you wasted no time pressing your chest against his and sungchan took even less time bringing his hands to your body. he held onto your waist firmly and planted his feet into the mattress as he lifted your hips. 

the desperation and waiting hit him like a freight train the moment your hands gripped his shoulders for stability. his hands went to other parts of your body—your ass, your back, your shoulder blades. sungchan settled on the back of your head and neck, turning your face so you were looking directly at him. he gently kissed your forehead, the complete opposite from his hips that were kissing yours with a rough slap.

“i missed you.” sungchan says it while holding back a grunt. when you only moan in response he presses his face against your sweaty cheek. “what else did you say over the phone again?” he asks.

sungchan feels you shake your head again, and when he feels you draw in a breath in preparation to speak he speeds up. you settle deeper into him and his hand on your back keeps you in place.

“i thought you were gonna make me cry?” he refuses to let up, you are driving him to the brink by your weakening grip and incoherent words. “thought you were gonna do all the work?” he teases.

when sungchan hears you cry out an i will he almost loses it then and there. when you suddenly pull your hips off of sungchan he’s the one that is left a shuddering and whining mess. sungchan watches you quickly clamber off of the bed as you pull at his hand to follow your lead. sungchan is confused at your sudden change in demeanor but follows you wordlessly. the feeling of almost emptying into the condom makes him pliable to your impatient hands. you guide him to the edge of the bed and he lets you. when you settle between his legs sungchan’s hand goes to your face to draw a line from your cheeks to the top of your head. when your hand pulls at the slimy stick condom sungchan groans and he props his other hand behind his back to keep his body upright. 

his hand tightens in your hair but you’re the one in control, evident in the way sungchan lets out pathetic curse when you kiss his tip. sungchan feels you exert all your strength in your hand that presses into his thigh to constrict his movements. even if he wanted to he doesn’t think he could. his body turns to jelly when you take him into your mouth, and when he feels your nose press into his abdomen he becomes even weaker.

“oh my god.” sungchan whines.

he screws his eyes shut hoping that it’ll help him focus on not cumming down your throat. far off in the back of his mind he still remembers your last text and it’s the only thing that keeps him together. he has to bite his lips when he hears you gag and the vibrations of your laughing around his dick. he bucks his hips and now it’s you pinching him before you take him just as deep again. 

when he opened his eyes again he saw you staring back up at him, meeting the same gaze you always shied away from. you didn’t have the same intense look he always gave you when he knew you were close, instead you still look up to him with eyes that are wet from want and almost pleading from desperation. he makes the shocking discovery in that moment that he really is no different from everyone else. even if you’re the one on your knees sungchan is the one begging, and even though you are the one struggling to take all of him in your mouth you are the one in charge. he realizes that he will forever be at your mercy, even if he is the one that is fucking you into the mattress. he could hold your hands over your head but you are the one in charge. he will do anything for you just by a simple look, the dominance for sungchan is just a show—a technicality because of his stature.

he had to weakly pulled his dick from your mouth after hearing you gag again. your eyes opened wider, glassy and red as sungchan started jerking himself off. he kept the same speed you had and he tilted his head to the side as he continued looking at you. your lips were plump and glistening from spit and precum, and your impatient tongue swiped across your lips to clean them. 

he looked at your flushed face and your hand that was desperately digging into the flesh on his thigh as your eyes stayed trained on his dick. you were nothing like the nonchalant and cocky demeanor that oozed from your text messages, but somehow you were just as powerful. you were desperate and it made sungchan’s hair stand on end. he watched you part your lips in anticipation instead of commanding him because you already knew he was going to deliver on your filthy promise.

“can i cum on your face?” sungchan looked down at your lips, needing one last thing. “please?” he whimpered.

you nodded quickly, readjusting yourself on your haunches. you straightened your posture instead of leaning into sungchan’s thigh.

“yes.” you clear your throat. “you were so good for me.” you say hoarsely.

you knew you said the right thing when sungchan lulled his head back and increased the speed of his hand. you focused your blurring eyes from their perpetual state of begging to the determined and focused look sungchan would get when he knew you were close. your hands that dug into the muscle of his thigh started rubbing soothing circles, and you perked your chest up more for show. by the time sungchan focused on you again he was lifting his hips off the bed to come closer to your face. his doe eyes were struggling to look at you, fluttering closed when you parted your lips again. sungchan brought his free hand to clutch at yours on his thigh.

“i’m close.” sungchan whimpered. 

sungchan stood up fully in front of you, and you began preparing yourself. he looked down at you one last time, heavy pants leaving his swollen lips. you watched his chest rise and fall rapidly in anticipation and felt the muscles of his thigh tighten underneath your hand. you could see the begging in his eyes and hear please coming out rushed between his pants. you responded by quickly wiping your face with your hand that was on sungchan’s thigh and tilting your head upwards. you locked eyes with him for a second before reluctantly closing yours.

the same moment you became a blank canvas sungchan painted it, his hand coming to an abrupt stop as heat bathed the apple of your left cheek and the tip of your nose. you heard a groan and then more heat bathed your other cheek. sungchan cursed above you and squeezed at your hand so tightly you thought it would break. you bared the pain when you felt he had more for you, coming out in spurts as he milked himself. you felt it on your eyelids and glide down the sides of your forehead. you felt sungchan thigh shake underneath the pressure of your hand before he came to a complete stop again, letting on one more heavy exhale.

right as you started to miss having a view of sungchan, you felt him quickly crouch down to you. you blindly grasped at him before you felt his finger quickly swipe over your eyes. when you didn’t feel anything on your eyelids anymore you opened them slowly to sungchan’s still labored breathing. he looked at you like he was waiting for something, his gaze flickering to himself all over you and your eyes. you were both equally bewildered, both of your lips parted waiting for someone to say something. you saw sungchan’s cum glisten on his index finger, and you suddenly had an idea. when his tongue darted out to wet his lips you saw it dribbling down his hand. your lips parted and you licked your own lips.

“eat it.” you said quietly.

sungchan looked even more bewildered hearing your request. his pupils shook looking at you and you blinked slowly. before you could take it back sungchan’s finger disappeared into his mouth. you watched with a slack jaw, and felt a sick pleasure bloom in your chest when he pulled out a completely clean finger. you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling when he showed you the proof that he ate it all by silently spreading his fingers and turning his hand around.

“you little freak.”