#I NEED him so BAD
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sunday mornings ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ fluff
luigi mangione x reader
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
The soft glow of dawn filtering through the blinds, the light painting the room in warm colours.
As the quiet hum of the early morning approached, your eyes fluttered open, instantly drawing you attention to the figure laying beside you.
His short dark curly hair spilling over the pillow, except a few strands sticking to his forehead, your hand itching to move the few strands, but in that moment you didn’t dare to disturb this rare calm moment. His lips slightly parted, chest rising and falling… You couldn’t help but study his features, your eyes tracing the curve of his jaw, the two marks plastered on each of his cheeks and of course the softness in his expression..
So peaceful, so unlike the guy who always has a grin on his face, the guy who loved teasing you.. As if on cue, Luigi shifted slightly, fluttering his eyelashes before his eyes met your own. “morning princess” he murmured, voice still hazing from the sleep
“it’s nice hearing your voice as the first thing in the morning” you replied, your voice too still filled with sleepiness. A low chuckle leaving his lips as that dumb grin plastered across his face.
pulling you closer to him and nuzzling his face into your neck placing tender kisses. Smiling, your heart far to full, this early in the morning. The quiet moment was perfect, and everything you could ever dream off, as his muscles gently flexed as he wrapped his arms tightly around you, forgetting everything about the world outside..
#luigi mangione#luigi mangione x reader#luigi mangione prompt#luigi mangione fluff#luigi#fine shyt#free luigi#hisaangel#i need him so bad#luigi mangione imagine
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mmmnnggghhhhh
#i need him so bad#tccblr#tc community#teeceecee#true cringe community#tcc tumblr#zero day 2003#zero day#cal gabriel
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nosferatu is abt to be my number 1 hear me out. man said “you are my affliction” “i cannot be sated without you” “i am an appetite, nothing more” HELLO?????
thinking about toxic!ex!simon.....
The banging on the door is relentless, a pounding that vibrates through the frame and straight into your chest. It’s raining so hard that it sounds like the sky itself is cracking open, drowning out his muffled voice on the other side. But you hear him anyway, broken and raw. “Let me in. For fuck’s sake, please let me in.”
Your stomach twists. You don’t want to see him. You shouldn’t see him. But your hand moves to the lock on instinct, and when you open the door, the sight of him makes your breath catch.
Simon is on the edge of ruin. Rain streaks down his face, plastering his hoodie to his skin, his hair curling and dripping. His mask is gone, leaving him exposed in a way you’ve never seen before. His eyes—wild, bloodshot, hollow—meet yours, and for a moment, neither of you says a word. He's on the verge of self-destruction.
Then, before you can speak, he collapses to his knees.
It’s not graceful. It’s not controlled. It’s desperate. His body hits the ground with a thud, his palms catching against the threshold like they’re the only thing holding him together. You take a step back, expecting him to get up, to say something sharp or clipped, but he doesn’t. He leans forward, and...
He crawls.
He crawls inside like a wounded mutt, breathing ragged and uneven. His massive hands dragging against the floor until they find your legs. You try to move back, but he follows, until his forehead is pressed to your stomach, his massive frame trembling as he clutches at you. His fingers dig into your hips, holding onto you like he's drowning, his head tilting back to look up at you.
You try to pull away, but his grip tightens. “Don’t,” he growls, the sound guttural, primal. The look in his eyes is feral—something broken and starving and so goddamn human it makes your heart ache.
“Y'don’t get it,” he spits, his voice trembling. “I can't be sated without ya, love, don’t y'see? You’re in me. You’re fuckin' inside me, and no matter what I do, I can’t tear y'out.”
He buries his face against you again, messily planting his lips against any ounce of skin open to worship. “I’ll fuckin' beg. I’ll get on m'knees—between y'thighs—every night if I have to. Just—don’t leave me again. Please. I’ll fuckin' die without you.”
You inhale sharply, your hands hovering at your sides as his shoulders shake. The rain drips from him, pooling on your floor, but he doesn’t care. He clutches at you tighter, his voice dropping into something dark and guttural. “I'm an appetite, nothing more. I was made to need ya, to crave ya. And I can’t—” His voice cracks, and he presses his face harder into you, his breath hot and ragged through his sobs. “I can’t fuckin' live without you, baby—please.”
You should push him away, should tell him to leave, but instead, you stand frozen, overwhelmed by the storm of him—the raw hunger, the consuming despair, the way he folds himself into you, desperate to make himself whole again. He’s feral, ruined, a shadow of himself, and all of it is for you.
How could you deny him?
mlist
#i need him so bad#simon ghost riley#call of duty#cod men#simon ghost riley smut#simon riley smut#ghost smut#ghost call of duty#cod ghost#ghost riley#ghost cod#simon ghost x reader#simon x reader#nosferatu#ang3lc#angelsthots
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This is so sick and twisted…it should be me in the her place 😔
Tic-Tac-Toe
Pairing: The Salesman x Fem!reader
Summary: Every Wednesday your schedule consisted of attending classes during the day, and satisfying the needs of a sadist through the night.
Warning: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Violence, Kidnapping, Isolation, SociallyAnxious!Reader, Blindfolds, Stalking, Knives, Blood, Gore, Stockholm Syndrome, Smut (+18) mdni, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Insertion, Fingering, Rough Sex, Erotophonophilia, Dom!Salesman, Sub!Reader, Dacryphillia, Sadomasochism, Gunplay, Deepthroating, Breeding Kink, Unprotected sex
A/N: Hell is empty
4k Words
You're strapped in a chair, like always, and you are blindfolded because he doesn't trust easily.
It's terribly annoying.
At any point of during and after your little 'arrangement' you could have called the cops. Doesn't he understand that?
Every Wednesday, you're taken from the warmth of your apartment, and you're delivered right back at 00:00 on the dot, every Thursday with barely an inch of life left in your bones. You'd either always come back wet, with semen sliding between your thighs, or with mysterious marks- old and new- crawling underneath your sweater. Whatever mood he was in, he'd always leave you feeling sore.
It should have bothered you.
The thought of seeing this large, domineering shadow-in-a-suit every Wednesday should not overwhelm you with all these feelings of excitement. Instead, you should do like all the mentally ill girls do and just get some fucking help.
But you want him to trust you, for some reason.
Which was utterly ridiculous considering the fact that to him, you were something akin to a porcelain wind up toy for his amusement. You had no business requesting he remove the blindfold aspect but still, you asked anyway. Toy's couldn't be trusted, could they?
"I'd really appreciate it if I didn't have to wear one of these everytime I visit your place." He removes the blindfold, and in a second, your vision is filled with nothing but him. One moment you were in the cozy warmth of your dorm room. Curled up on the couch while your roommate spends her youth effectively- out with boyfriends and friends and everything you didn't have. You answered the front door when you heard his special knock, like you always do. You walked with him to the cab. You let him put on the blindfold. You said 'I'm fine’ when the taxi driver got a little too nosy and you let him lead you away from your boring life.
If only for a few hours.
You'd let him do whatever he wanted for those few hours because such surrender was almost sacred. You forfeited your safety in his hands, to do with it whatever he pleased and in that, you found rest. Whatever happens, happens.
Forget this room- what was essentially his personal dungeon, windowless, red and boasting various torture objects- your eyes are only on him.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't feel the need to kidnap me anymore? We do this every Wednesday," You become more childish around him and he lets you. Like you forgot you are a fully autonomous university student. There was power in that too. "Surely we've established some sort of trust?” He doesn't respond to you immediately. You crane your head up at him, hungry to lock eyes with his cold, empty slits that enchanted you body and soul.
You are in love with him, perhaps.
That's a logical response isn't it?
You laugh almost.
Listening to yourself try to rationalize your fondness for such a horrible man.
Said horrible man is silent. All you hear is the clicking of his dress shoes as he moves to the leather seat directly across from yours. Your eyes scan over all his movements.
The right corner of his lip quirks up. A small coffee table creates the only distance between you and he bends over to pour you both a generous glass of Brandy on the rocks. You don't drink it. Ever since he's been bringing you here, you never do. He knows this, yet still he pours.
"This relationship isn't about trust." He says finally. Something inside you, that is perhaps a little broken, actually purrs at the sound of his voice. You're hyperaware of your thighs squeezing together on the leather seat. They're spilling out of the sundress you purposely wore today.
Lots of your clothes were for the function of comfort. Your body was full and curvy and not always something to be advertised, unless you wished it to. Tonight, you wanted to show off as much as possible.
A thick leather band is keeping both your wrists locked to the armrests, while he sits back, free and so irrevocably in charge it should scare you. It should. But the sick and incredibly deranged thing is that it doesn't.
Outside, the rain is beating down on whatever building you're in, casting a thick veneer of grey all across the city.
But inside this velvet room... your heart is hammering inside its cage as you watch him undo the buttons of his crisp suit. A black one today. Jet black like his hair.
Although-
"You've got more grey in your hair than last week." You can't help but say.
He tilts his head in inquisition. "Are you insulting me or complimenting me?"
"I'll leave that up to you to decide," you shrug your shoulders as much as you can under these limited restraints. At least he hasn't restrained your ankles this time. Progress. "In here, you're the boss. Right?"
He takes a sip of his drink until finally, you've finally locked eyes. Your bare toes curl and your back arches slightly as you sit a bit straighter in your seat. Like you're in a lecture hall, although he is far more interesting than any of your professors.
"I'm not as young as I used to be," he finally says as he takes one more sip of his drink before bringing his briefcase onto the coffee table. Its presence is ominous and so horribly loud for an inanimate object. It kickstarts all your dormant nerves, revving up all the rest of your senses that have yet to catch up to the fact that you were facing the man of both your desires and nightmares once again.
"Who have you told about our arrangement?" The question causes you to roll your eyes. He watches the petulant movement with that same, silent smile and blank eyes. He unclicks the briefcase. Your stomach lurches and your thighs squeeze together. Pavlov's dog.
"Every time you ask me-" an object clinks onto the table. A butcher knife.
You try to pull your eyes away from the objects he's placing on the table, one by one. "Everytime you ask me if I've told anyone about our arrangement-" another object. A wooden spoon beside the knife. "Everytime I tell you the same thing."
Your throat closes when he uncovers a dildo. Bright pink and fucking menacing. "Carry on talking." He says, snapping your gaze away from the objects lining the table.
"I don't have any friends." Your voice is wobblier. You try to deny the sight of the rabbit vibrator, "It's the reason you picked me." You clear your throat as you hoped to clear all the nerves beginning to fog your mind. "Someone could've followed me here. B-But I don't really know anyone enough to care." The final object that clunks onto the glass coffee table and this time, you're unable to look away.
"Are we ready to begin?"
The metal revolver laying quiet and undisturbed beside the rabbit vibrator makes everything else on the table look like children's toys. Even the butcher knife.
You pull at the restraints, your legs quivering slightly as you shift and writhe in the seat. He studies you as closely as you were once studying him. You can see the excitement begin to flood his eyes at the physical manifestation of your discomfort.
"Now you're getting it." He nods sardonically, taking another sip from his glass before placing the briefcase on the floor beside him. "You were a little too happy to see me," he joked, letting out an airy exhale of laughter.
"You wanna hazard a guess as to what we'll be playing today?" He's smiling, genuinely. With that look in his eyes you can tell he's hovering in the clouds. Meanwhile you've begun to feel real fear. No matter how regular these visits might become you'd never get used to him. It's impossible. Not when he found new and daring ways to torture and pleasure you every single week. You couldn't get used to something as brash and unconventional as him. Like the conditions of a child in a broken home, he kept his tactics inconsistent so that every week is a new hell or perhaps- depending on his mood- heaven.
"If I guess wrong?" You swallow thickly and something dark in him settles. He spreads his legs more, there's a twitch inside his lips before he smiles again.
"Well, guessing isn't the game, so you'll be fine."
You nod your head... assessing the objects. There's menacing objects and household objects. Even just looking at them you can tell what they all have in common.
"Am I going to have to insert-"
"You're not guessing." His voice booms. He rests his elbow on the armrests, his hands corded with veins seem itching to do something, you're not sure what. "I said guess." He commands.
"Hide and seek?"
He snickers, "A favourite-"
"More like your favourite." You snip back, "I couldn't sit down the whole week." You frown at the memory. That week he'd brought you to an abandoned warehouse, letting you run the entire perimeter full.
"It's in your best interest to keep coming to our sessions-" he reminds you, snapping you back into the present.
"You're paying my university fees, I'm not complaining." You nod, before plastering a thin smile on your face, "All I have to do every week is prostitute myself to a literal sadist-"
"Have you given up on guessing today's game?" He didn't like you making him hyper aware of the fact that this dynamic, whatever it is, is considered objectively bad. And so you're not surprised when he swiftly moves past the topic.
He leans forward. His large hand disappears under his chair before uncovering a small whiteboard. Four lines- 2 horizontals are running across 2 verticals, creating 9 blocks. He stands up, while your eye is still focusing on the board. From your point of view it sits underneath the row of objects on the table. You don't even realize your right wrist strap is being untied.
"Colour?" He asks, pushing a crate of whiteboard markers towards you. With your now free hand you pick the pink one.
He snickers. "Predictable." He whispers before placing a large, domineering hand on your head. He presses down your braids, patting you like a stray he's rescued from the cold. You stare aimlessly ahead, fearing you won't be able to contain everything you've begun to feel for him if you lock eyes now.
"We're playing tic-tac-toe," he relents. His hand lingers on your head a bit longer before he's stepping away.
"With a twist, I presume?"
"Clever girl," he nods, walking back to his seat. "So you're aware of the objects."
"Place a gun in front of a girl and she's going to notice."
"Paranoid girl." He tsks before leaning forward.
"You want to start or should I?"
"Wait-" you swallow, "What happens if I win?"
He smiles that dazzling, debonair smile.
"You pick which one goes inside you."
Lightning cracks across the sky. A chorus of thunder roars all at once like some kind of phenomenon and your lips stutter open.
"Th-That's insane I-"
"I shouldn't have to remind you that you came here out of your own volition. "
"What happens if you win?"
"Then I choose." He says.
Your eyes skate over the object. It doesn't take an ivy league graduate to hazard a guess as to which of the objects he's itching to stick inside you.
"There's a fucking knife here-" You're trembling. Tears are pooling in your eyes. It doesn't even matter that you're a somewhat decent tic tac toe player. It doesn't matter that you're confident in this game. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters.
"And there's also a spoon," he nods, neutrally, "And a vibrator, and a dildo. Etcetera. Etcetera." He leans forward, unclicking his whiteboard pen, "your words are just words, Darling. You're just listing things. Start," he says, with a deadly lilt in his voice. "Or I will."
You scramble to uncap your marker with one hand, all while he watches with dead and black eyes. You knew that whoever starts the game was placed at a big advantage and so you're nearly scrambling to place that dignified X in the center block.
"Clever girl." He says once again, drawing his blue 'O' directly beside your pink 'X'. You aim for the block above him. He blocks it. You aim for the block beside the center. He blocks that too.
Your victory comes too quickly. You barely feel it as you strike a line vertically through the blocks. 3 X's.
Relief washes over you but it's overcast with doubt. Like you're celebrating in trepidation as you watch him stand up.
"Congratulations! Which do you choose?"
"I can pick anything?" You ask, staring up at him, bright eyes wild with the adrenaline that comes with wanting to preserve your organs.
"Anything you want, my little winner."
You begin to lean over. His eyebrows quirk up when you wrap a small hand around his wrist.
"I pick that." You say breathlessly. Your eyes zeroed in on his hands at his side. And you watch as he walks towards you, as if compelled by an unforeseen force. His palms are calloused underneath yours and you blow out several unstable breaths as he stands above you. So imposing it's breathtaking.
"You sure?" It's the way he asks it that has you second guessing. And perhaps he sees the caution seeping into your eyes because there's excitement lurking in his. Before you're even able to formulate a response, his hand is locked tightly around your esophagus, vacuuming all pathways shut until you're writhing for air.
"A fine, fine choice," He's becoming more and more riled up the more you writhe in your seat, trying to scrounge for a single breath of air. He doesn't let you. Instead he moves behind you, before leaning down.
If you could breathe, you would shiver at the feeling of his lips behind your ear. "Here we go-" he whispers, before reaching around your torso with his free hand before forcing your legs open. The second he lets his three digits stab into your cunt, he uncurls the grip on your throat as you make a horrid sound somewhere between a moan, a scream, and a haggard gasp. "FUCK- Sl-Slowdown-" you knew better than to request something like that. All you hear is a snicker from behind you as pain blossoms all across your nether regions. He's not gentle. He's not kind. He doesn't allow you to adjust to his fingers before he's scissoring them inside you, causing a blood-curdling scream to rip itself out of your throat. Your back is arched and you're trying to get away from him but the fucking persists.
"You've been wet like this for me the entire time?" He sounds absolutely demented, behind you, "You wanted this didn't you?" He bites at your ear as the first tears begin to pool at your eyes, "My little winner."
"P-Please stop-" His fingers are restless inside you. Curling and uncurling. Scissoring and stabbing as if wanting to open you up and split you all the way in half.
"What a pretty little pussy, huh? Look at what a mess you're making."
"When-" you can't form words. "When- Stop?" It's all you're able to say as your nails dig into the material of his suit.
"The sooner you cum the sooner it stops."
You doubted your ability to cum under these circumstances. He's setting an ungodly pace and it's all so hurried and in a frenzy, it's like your brain does not have time to understand if you even like what's currently being done to you.
"What- Do you want you want my help?" you begin to shake your head. "I'll help you, baby-"
His other hand reaches over and pinches your clit.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your orgasm is quite literally forced out of you. Your hips writhe and your ass tries to leave the seat as the first feelings of pleasure rip through you by force. "That's it, Clever girl," he coos, still curling his fingers inside you, "That's my Clever girl." He says once more before stilling his movements. For a second you just sit there, trying to collect your breath while he's still inside you. All at once, his hands are removed from your body.
He grabs a handkerchief from his breast pocket and you watch him clinically wipe his hands before erasing the marks on the board with the same cloth. A very clear boner pushes against his black slacks yet still his face is calm.
"Alright, My turn to start-"
"WHAT!? B-But I won." You scream, absolutely seething with desperation.
"You know everyone who plays 'X' has a significantly higher chance at winning-" You say with your eyes narrowed. He nods.
"And you know that too, which means we each should be granted alternating times to play ‘X’. Regardless if you won or not." You slump in your seat, suddenly far too aware that your bare cunt is exposed.
"Don't mope." He says, "It's not cute." Before drawing his 'X' in the center.
You close your legs, sitting upright with a new zeal of self preservation as you grab ahold of your marker.
You draw your pink 'O' underneath his.
You both play many more rounds. All ending in ties. This is how you play- with a frazzled grip and closed legs. A shiver every now and then overcomes you with the gravity of your aftershocks. His snickers bring your eyes up to his. He speaks as he makes his move.
"You're so focused on blocking," he sighs, "You're not even trying to win anymore-"
"I'm not letting you stick a knife in my cunt." You nod in finality before blocking another move.
"Not even if I say please?" He asks, making a faux pout.
"Fuck off."
"In that case, I have to win."
Your heart kickstarts as he pushes his pen to the board. Images flash across your mind. Blood splattered across his gorgeous face. Your blood as he fucks the sharp end of a knife inside you. You nearly vomit while he speaks. “Easy as-" you block him.
"Tic-" you block him again.
"Tac-" you block him some more
"Toe- I Win."
A victory that somehow escaped your vision. He strikes a line diagonally through the squares and your stomach sinks. He stares at you from across the room. His eyes so deeply satisfied you can feel it radiating off of him in waves.
You lower your teeth to the other restraint, violently trying to free your left wrist from its oppressive hold. And you watch as the devil slowly rises.
Your heart aches. Your brain is sent into complete alarm as your flight or fight kicks in and your sympathetic nervous system fires.
"Now, which one would look pretty inside you?" He drags his fingers along the objects, undoubtedly an act of taunting. You stomp your feet on the ground. You try to push the chair underneath you but it's plastered to the floor.
"Please!" Tears are running thickly. They cloud your vision. You don't even see the way his smile falls enough for him to rub over the bulge in his slacks.
"Fuck," he says gravelly as he relents and picks up the gun. "You're so fucking pretty when you're scared out of your fucking mind. You know that?"
You shake your head as he nears, wondering if this might really be the end. Has your body become too worn out by his games? Has the time for him to discard his toy finally dawned on you both? Is he all grown up with no need for such things as toys?
"PLEASE-NO-"
"Open your mouth." He's standing in front of you, your head directly in front of his raging bulge.
You shake your head, trying to move away but he rips your face towards him. "Listening to me is the only choice you have to make it out alive, Baby. You wanna live, don't you?" He's nothing but a tall figure, with the overhead lights shining around his head like a halo. Your face right by his bulge.
"Little girl needs to go to school." He nods, eyes fluttering shut, "She needs to complete her studies and get a good job so she wouldn't have to meet with scary men like me- Fuck-" it riled him up to no end to have you scared of him. You suppose it triggered a part of him that craved attention. He needed to feel like he existed and if that was reeped from fear then so be it.
"Stick the barrel in your mouth," the bottom of his hand coaxed open your jaw, and, as if on autopilot, you listen. Perhaps there is a way out of this. Perhaps you should just listen.
"That's it... Fuck," he brings your free hand up to rub his erection "That's it, Baby, stick it inside your mouth." Cold metal hits your lower teeth, "Stick it in like you would a cock." He says, looking down at you intently as your tongue unfurls and you suck the barrel in. "Shit-" he places his other hand on the back of your head before forcing you to take the gun deeper down your throat. He's trembling. Far too badly. And so is his finger on the trigger.
"Fuck, you're such a fucking whore, you know that?"
You're gagging and flailing around the barrel, saliva slides down.
So desperate to please him.
In your hast you don't even realize your left hand that had been restrained is now free. Your eyes are closed.
Please him.
Just please him and you'll live.
"That's my brainless girl..." he praises and that rouses something in you. It has your hips bucking against nothing.
"Such a stupid girl..." he continues, "You're gonna ride me, aren't you? You're gonna fuck me so good-" You're not about to tell him that sex wasn't supposed to be apart of this game. You're not stupid.
You faintly hear the sound of a belt unlooping. A zipper siding down. "You're making me so happy, baby." He admits before effortlessly lifting you from the chair until you're straddling him.
You're free.
When did that happen?
"F-Fuck, I need you to ride me." His head is leaning back against the chair. His tie hangs messily from his shirt that has two buttons undone.
You're free.
"Don't try anything," he warns, as he lifts you enough to pull his cock out of his pants. "Matter of fact. Keep it in your mouth while you ride me-" He slams you down onto his cock the very second those words leave his mouth. He's fucking into you with recklessness and fury and violence. His hair falls in his face but the gun is too heavy, without a hand there, it nearly slips from your mouth.
He's careful to catch it, forcing the barrel back in your mouth as he places a hand on your ass, controlling how your ass bounces on his lap. The gun offers motivation like no other. It has you arching your back and swirling your hips as you tighten your cunt around him.
He sticks the gun down too far and you gag. "You trying to get me to cum, huh? You little slut-" you nod, the tears still spilling as pleasure begins to stream through your brain. It has you excited by the prospect of being held at gunpoint. You realize with grave certainty that you've arrived at the point of no return.
"What a good girl- fuck-" he's ramming up into you, his hand on the gun twitching like his cock does. "I'm gonna fucking cum- FUCK-" he does and your orgasm immediately barrels into you at the exact same time. You try to ride him, to milk it as much as you can, to continue to make him happy.
"Such a stupid fucking slut-" he whispers, eyes hooded as his hips still spurt cum into you.
Your ears perk. You see his finger on the trigger move. You squeeze your eyes shut as you hear a click.
"Such a silly girl." You hear him say. "Don't worry, Baby, it isn't loaded." You're still in your body. You're still alive, on his lap, your sundress unfurling around you both.
"Not yet anyway."
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TRAP (2024) Deleted Scene — Cooper Gets Stopped by SWAT
#he looked so cocky in this#mmmmnrgjfj#i need him so bad#josh hartnett#j hartnett#jhartnettedit#josh#hartnett#film#filmedit#movie#movieedit#dailyflicks#trap#trap 2024#trap movie#cooper abbott#cooper adams#my gifs#my gifset#gifset#gifedit#gifs#by me
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credit need him in a thriller movie all covered in blood rn!!!!
#ateez#atz#ateez hard hours#ateez yunho#yunho#jeong yunho#yunho hard thoughts#he is crazy#he is so hot#so hot and sexy#hot as hell#i need him#i need him biblically#need him#i need him so bad#hes so hot#i want him#🔥#so hot 🔥🔥🔥#hottie 🔥#just hot 🔥🔥😍#he looks 🔥🔥🔥#damn 🔥#i’m obsessed 😍😍#give my man a movie rn#my man my man my man#my man <3#my man fr#god i love him
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cw: simon riley x reader smut, penetration
simon laying his full weight on you when he’s plowing into your tight little hole :( it’s kinda hard to breathe bc he’s so much bigger than you but it feels so nice having him press you into the mattress.
his face digging into your neck to nip and lick up your throat. grunting and growling about how good you feel wrapped around his cock. “takin’ me so well, baby. fuck. made for it, made to take my cock.”
and you’re a mess of whines and whimpers as his bulky body keeps your from squirming. fingers clawing into his back because it’s too much yet not enough all at once.
his thick fingers forcing your legs apart further so you can take all of him and all you can do is lay there and take it ):
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needddd…hes so scrumptious
rescue me old man logan PLS
•••
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❝ MOVE, IT'S A FALSE GOD ❞
A rising drug dealer returns to Zaun, igniting a "dangerous" power struggle. Tension turns into passion, old routes blur, who will control the game?
⤹ warnings: power dynamics, older man/younger woman, age gap, dom/sub dynamics, angst, begging, pwp, sexual tension, afab!reader praising, pet names, fingering.
⤹ songs used: move - taemin, false god - taylor swift, black swan - bts, danger - txt, automatic - red velvet.
The air in Silco’s private office was thick with smoke, curling around the dim amber light that spilled from a single lamp. You leaned against the chair, the same old chair you used to sit to just watch the man infront of you start creating what would be the ruin of Zean, his blue eye lifting from the long forgotten documents he was supposedly reading before your entrance— arms crossed, your confidence unwavering despite the sharp gaze he leveled at you— or at least, that’s what you try to pretend.
“It’s been a while,” you said pretending nonchalantly, tilting your head to meet his eyes. “I almost thought you’d forgotten about me, Silco. But here we are.”
He didn’t answer immediately, instead taking a slow drag from his cigar, letting the silence stretch. It was the same with him as always—every move, every glance, carefully calculated to put others on edge. Once, it had worked on you.
Not anymore.
“I don’t forget,” Silco said finally, his voice low and deliberate. “Especially not those who think they can play in my waters without permission.”
You chuckled, a sound that carried a hint of mockery. “Is that what this is about? Permission? I didn’t think you’d care, considering how… insignificant I used to be.”
His eye twitched, just barely, and you knew you’d struck a nerve. It was subtle, but years of knowing him had taught you how to read those tiny cracks in his armor.
“You were a child then,” he said, his tone clipped. “A reckless, naïve—”
“And now?” you interrupted, stepping closer, your confidence cutting through the haze of smoke. “Still think I’m a child, Silco? Because from where I’m standing, I seem to be doing just fine without your approval. Even starting to strike your own success.”
For a moment, he didn’t respond. His good eye studied you, cold and unblinking, but there was something else there too—something that betrayed his calm exterior.
“You’ve built quite the reputation,” he said at last, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful. “Impressive, even. But reputations don’t protect you when you’re making enemies on all sides. Especially not mine.”
You smiled, slow and sharp. “Funny. I was going to say the same thing to you.”
He laughed, his breathless old laugh bringing the same warm (and rare) feeling to your chest. He looked at you in a way you couldn’t describe, he was always the one you looked up for, not Vander, not Vi, him. Even when everything went to shit.
“You think i’m feeling threatened by your presence here when you’re the one who always kept following around when you were just a clueless teenager trying to survive here?”
He smirked to himself, if you didn’t know him all this years you wouldn’t be able to see it, he took another long drag of his cigarette, making sure to look at you with a tentative face, like he’s testing the waters.
Silco’s smirk lingered as his gaze roamed over you, deliberate and slow. It wasn’t the predatory kind that most in the Undercity wielded like a weapon—no, this was something subtler, more dangerous. He let the silence between you stretch again, his presence pulling the air tight, as if daring you to speak first.
You didn’t.
He leaned back in his chair, the sharp edge of his posture softening just enough to make him seem almost at ease. The movement was calculated, you knew—it always was with him—but the faint trail of smoke curling lazily from his cigar only added to the intimacy of the space.
“You’ve certainly grown,” he said, his tone low and silken, as though the words were more for himself than for you.
It wasn’t a compliment. At least, not entirely. But the way his eye flicked down to where your fingers rested on the edge of his desk, nails tapping a faint rhythm, made you feel as though he was cataloging every inch of you.
“Out of your shadow, I’d say,” you replied smoothly, letting your lips curve into a faint smirk of your own. “Which I imagine doesn’t sit well with you, does it?”
He exhaled another cloud of smoke, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Is that what you think this is? Some petty tantrum over losing control?”
“Isn’t it?” you countered, stepping closer. The glow of the lamp cast a golden hue across your skin as you closed the space between you, slow and deliberate.
You saw his eye darken slightly, his gaze following your movement with the precision of a predator assessing its prey. But he didn’t move away. If anything, the tension between you only seemed to tighten as you came to a stop just shy of touching him.
“Careful,” he murmured, voice dropping to a near whisper. “You’re playing a game you’re not prepared to lose.”
You tilted your head, meeting his gaze without flinching. “Maybe I intend to lose. Maybe I know exactly what I’m doing.”
The sound he made—a low, amused hum—sent a shiver down your spine. He was close enough now that you could smell the faint metallic edge of smoke and shimmer clinging to his suit.
“Do you, though?” he asked, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his desk, the movement drawing you in until there was barely a breath of space between you.
Your pulse quickened, but you refused to look away. His good eye searched yours, his smirk softening into something more dangerous. Not threatening, but something far worse: intrigued.
“You’ve always had fire,” he said softly, the words hanging in the air between you. “But ambition without restraint… That’s a dangerous thing in this world.”
“And yet, here I am,” you shot back, your voice steady, though your chest tightened at the weight of his words.
His gaze dipped briefly—to your lips, before sliding back up to meet your eyes. It was fleeting, but unmistakable.
“You’re bold,” he admitted, his voice dropping further, the gravel in it brushing against your nerves. “But boldness doesn’t mean you can stand the heat when you step into the fire.”
“Maybe,” you said, leaning forward until you were close enough to feel the faint warmth of his breath on your skin, “I just enjoy the burn.”
For the briefest moment, you saw something flicker in his gaze—something he quickly buried behind a sharp inhale and another pull from his cigar. But the tension lingered, coiling tight between you like a rope about to snap.
His eye sharpened as your words hung in the air. That flicker of intrigue you’d seen moments ago twisted into something darker, something colder—and yet impossibly more magnetic.
“You think you’ve got it all figured out,” he said, his voice soft but cutting. “That your rise makes you untouchable. But even kings can fall.”
Your lips parted in a quiet scoff. “Kings fall when they stop watching the board. And as far as I can see, you’re the one sitting comfortably on your throne while the ground beneath you starts to crack.”
His laugh was low, more exhalation than sound, as he leaned back in his chair. “A clever metaphor,” he murmured, his tone almost amused, silently nodding to your point. Who would’ve known you would turn this way, follow his path—and even his words? The realization sparked a strange feeling deep in his stomach, a warm, fuzzy sensation creeping up his neck.
“But let me remind you,” he continued, his voice still smooth, “who built that board you’re so eager to play on.”
“And let me remind you,” you shot back, stepping even closer, “that no one stays untouchable forever—not even you.”
For a moment, there was nothing but the hum of tension between you, the air too thick with smoke and unsaid words. And then he moved.
It wasn’t a grand gesture, not with Silco. He didn’t need one. Instead, he stood, the slow scrape of his chair against the floor sending a chill down your spine. By the time he was upright, he had erased the distance you’d carefully maintained, stepping into your space with a precision that left no room for retreat.
“Careful,” he warned, his voice barely above a whisper. The closeness made it feel like a growl. “You might end up liking the view from your knees.”
You felt your breath hitch before you could stop it. The words struck something deep and primal, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of faltering—even though those words stirred something inside you, a desire, a want… a need.
“And you might find,” you said, voice steady despite the way your heart pounded, “that even from my knees, I can be the one in control.”
Something in his expression shifted—just barely, but you caught it. That sharp, calculating mask cracked for a fraction of a second, and you saw the flicker of frustration—or was it fascination?—beneath it.
He reached for the desk behind you, his hand brushing the edge as he leaned in, caging you against it without ever truly touching you. The faint smell of smoke and ash filled your senses, grounding you even as the tension spiraled. All you could smell was his expensive perfume mixed with the burn of his daily cigarettes—his scent, only his.
Maybe your group was waiting for you, wondering what the hell you were doing with Silco, maybe even planning what to do if he killed you. But the situation you were in now was far better than anything else you’d ever experienced. This was the dirty, dangerous dream of a naïve teenager—the dream you’d always had since the first time you met him. You couldn’t risk losing it now.
“You don’t understand what you’re toying with,” he said, his voice lower now, almost a rasp.
“Don’t I?” you challenged, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “You’re the one who called me here, Silco. So tell me—what exactly are you afraid of?”
The silence that followed was deafening. His eye bore into yours, searching, testing, as though trying to unravel the web you’d spun between the two of you.
And then he smiled. Not the sharp, mocking grin you’d expected, but something slower, quieter—dangerous in its restraint.
“Fear isn’t the word I’d use,” he said, his voice like silk. “But perhaps… curiosity.”
Silco's gaze never wavered from yours as he took a slow, deliberate step forward. There was no more room between you—no space for retreat, no escape from the storm building in the air around you. His scent, his presence, overwhelmed you, filling your lungs and sinking into your skin.
His hand reached up, but this time it wasn't to push you away— it was to lift your chin, gently, but with undeniable force. His touch was cold, his fingers rough against the delicate curve of your jaw, and yet the heat radiating off him burned you alive. You could barely breathe beneath the intensity of his stare.
“I'm curious,” he murmured, voice low and dark, like the very shadows that filled the room. His thumb brushed along your lower lip, soft yet commanding, testing, teasing.
“Do you know what you're asking for?”
Your heart was pounding, but you refused to show weakness. You forced your gaze to stay locked on his, your breath shallow as you leaned into his touch, letting the burn of his fingers draw you closer. You could feel the weight of his presence, the power he exuded, the way it seeped into your very bones.
“I think,” you breathed, voice trembling just slightly, “I'm asking you to show me.”
The words had barely left your lips when his face closed the distance between you, his breath mingling with yours in a shared, heated exhale. His lips hovered above yours, close enough to taste, but he didn't kiss you —no. Instead, he let the anticipation hang, let it build, until you were certain you couldn't take it anymore. Every inch of your skin felt like it was on fire, and all you could think about was the want-the desperate, aching need that had been simmering between you for so long.
“Show you?” he repeated, his voice thick, almost a growl. “You're bold to ask for that.”
Without warning, he pulled you closer, his hand gripping the back of your neck with a quiet authority that made your pulse spike.
His lips finally brushed against yours, a fleeting kiss, as light and delicate as the whisper of a shadow. But that brief touch was enough to send a jolt of heat through your entire body, making your knees threaten to buckle.
Before you could recover, he deepened the kiss-fierce, hungry, as if he'd been waiting for this moment as much as you. His other hand slid to your waist, pulling you flush against him. The heat between you was suffocating, your bodies tangled as the kiss grew more desperate, more urgent. You could feel his heart pounding in sync with yours, the strength in his body pressed against yours, both of you craving something neither could name.
The kiss was a collision of fire and ice, a dangerous dance of control and surrender.
His lips were demanding, possessive, but you matched him, not allowing him to dominate entirely. Every time he pulled back, you followed, chasing him like a moth to a flame.
He pulled away suddenly, leaving you breathless, eyes dark with a mixture of lust and something more complicated-something deeper.
“I've always liked fire,” he rasped, voice rougher now, as though the kiss had burned him just as much as it had you. “But fire... it burns. And you're playing with it.”
You weren't sure if it was the heat of the moment, the way his hands had claimed you, or the raw hunger in his voice-but something inside you snapped.
“I'd say l'm more like an ice burn,” you murmured, your voice dripping with defiance.
Before he could respond, you surged forward, taking control, your lips crashing against his in a kiss that was anything but delicate.
The hunger between you was instantaneous, primal, as your hands gripped him with a new sense of authority. Silco had always been the one in charge, but now the roles had reversed, and you were the one pulling him closer, pushing him back against the desk with an intensity that left him breathless.
His shock didn't last long. Silco's hands moved, as though to regain control, but you were quicker. You pulled him firmly against you, forcing him to the edge of the desk, caging him there with your body. Your kiss was hungry, urgent, as though you were trying to consume him, and it felt like you were doing just that-biting, tugging, exploring him in ways that left no room for hesitation.
Silco's breath hitched, but this time it wasn't from power-it was from you. You were the one dominating the kiss now, your hands roaming across his chest, your body pressing him down with a quiet strength. He groaned against your lips, caught off guard by your sudden shift, and yet there was no resistance in him now. Only the heat of his body, the fire in his gaze.
His hands found your hips, but you didn't let him move you. You weren't done. Not yet.
“You think you control everything,” you said between kisses, your voice low and teasing.
“But even you can't resist me now.”
His hands tightened on your waist, but he didn't pull you away. Instead, he seemed to surrender to it, to you. His kiss deepened, now one of want-raw and desperate, matching your own intensity as you continued to trap him against the desk.
“Then show me,” he growled against your lips, hands gripping your back, pulling you closer until your bodies were flush against each other. “Prove it.” Silco's growl sent a shiver down your spine, his hands tightening on your waist with just enough pressure to remind you exactly who was in charge here. You may have thought you could control the moment, but Silco wasn't one to be caged-or tamed.
The smirk tugging at your lips faltered as his hands moved, sliding up your back and pulling you flush against him. His strength was effortless, his grip commanding, and the air between you seemed to crackle as he tilted his head, his lips grazing yours in a way that sent a jolt of heat through your entire body.
“Mercy?” he murmured, his voice dangerously soft, though his grip on you was anything but. “You seem to be under the impression that I allow mercy.”
The air between you crackled with tension, charged with an electricity that prickled your skin as Silco's hands tightened on your waist. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the power in his grip, and it only fueled the fire burning within you.
"I don't want mercy," you breathed, your voice low and husky, your lips hovering just a hair's breadth from his.
His good eye darkened at your words, a low growl rumbling in his chest that you could feel more than hear. In a swift movement, he grasped your thighs and lifted you onto the desk, his body moving between your legs as he pinned you there with his weight.
The sudden shift left you breathless, your heart pounding wildly as you looked up at him, his face illuminated by the dim amber light of the lamp. His eye searched yours, intense and focused, as if trying to unravel the secrets hidden beneath your skin.
"Careful what you wish for," he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous purr. His hand slid up your thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he leaned in closer, his lips ghosting along your jawline. “Who would’ve thought you would turn into this nasty dearly thing huh?”
You shivered at his touch, at the way his breath felt against your skin, hot and heavy with want. Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as you arched into him, desperate for more.
"I'm not afraid of you," you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear. "Are you?"
His response was a sharp nip to your earlobe, followed by a low chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine.
"Oh, I'm not afraid," he murmured, his hand sliding higher, fingers brushing against the hem of your skirt. "But you should be."
You gasped as his fingers pushed under the fabric, trailing fire across your skin as they moved higher and higher. Your head fell back, eyes fluttering closed as you lost yourself in the sensation, in the way his touch ignited every nerve ending in your body.
"Enlighten me, Eye of Zaun.”
Silco's response was a low growl, a sound of pure hunger as he captured your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue delved into your mouth, claiming you, possessing you, as his hands roamed your body with a desperate need.
You moaned into the kiss, your own hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, deeper. The heat between you was suffocating, all-consuming, and you felt like you were drowning in the depths of your own desire.
His hands slipped under your shirt, fingers splaying across your bare skin as he broke the kiss to trail his lips down your neck. You arched into him, head thrown back in ecstasy as he left a path of fire across your throat, teeth grazing your pulse point.
"You want me?" he growled against your skin, one hand sliding up to cup your breast through your bra. "You want to see what I can do to you?"
You nodded frantically, too lost in the sensations to form words. Your body was on fire, every touch of his hands sending shockwaves of pleasure through you.
With a low chuckle, Silco's hand deftly unclasped your bra, tossing it aside before his fingers closed around your sensitive peak. You cried out, hips bucking involuntarily as he pinched and rolled the hardening bud between his fingers.
"That's it," he purred, his voice dark with lust. "Let me hear you."
His other hand slipped through your bottoms into your panties, fingers gliding through your slick folds. You were already wet, already aching for him, and he groaned at the feel of you.
“I could practically kill you right now. Cage you— Torture you.” He chuckled as he looked at you, your mind already too lost to answer him. "So ready for me," he murmured, circling your clit with a feather-light touch that had you writhing beneath him. "So desperate."
You couldn't deny it. You were desperate, needy, aching for his touch like nothing you'd ever felt before. This was embarrassing. You always had a crush for the man, but you never stopped this low. Your hands scrabbled at his back, nails leaving crescent marks on his skin as you tried to pull him closer.
"Please," you whimpered, too far gone to care how needy you sounded. "Please, Silco."
“Who’s in control now, dear?”
“F-fuck you Silco.”
“I think it’s the other way around.” He chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine.
His fingers slid through your slick folds, teasing, taunting, stoking the fire that burned within you. You were already so wet, so ready for him, and the knowledge only seemed to spur him on.
"Look at you," he murmured, his voice low and thick with desire. "So desperate for me, so needy."
He circled your clit with a feather-light touch, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You cried out, hips bucking involuntarily as he kept up the maddeningly slow pace.
"Please," you whimpered, too far gone to care how desperate you sounded. "Silco, please..."
He chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. His fingers continued their torturous dance, dipping inside you, stroking along your inner walls before retreating to circle your clit once more.
"What do you want, dear?" he asked, his voice a low growl. "Tell me what you need."
Your head thrashed on the desk, fingers tangling in his hair as you tried to pull him closer. You were so close, teetering on the edge of release, and yet he kept you there, balanced on a knife's edge.
"I want you," you gasped, your voice breaking on a moan as his fingers curled inside you. "I want your cock, Silco. Please, give it to me."
He groaned at your words, his eye darkening with lust. With a swift movement, he withdrew his fingers from your dripping core, leaving you empty and aching.
"Beg for it," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. "Beg me to fuck you."
You didn't hesitate, too lost in the throes of your own need to feel anything but the desperate hunger that consumed you.
"Please," you sobbed, your hips rolling shamelessly against him. "Please, Silco, I need your cock. I need you inside me, filling me, fucking me. Please, I'll do anything, just give it to me, give me your cock, please..."
You begged and pleaded, desperate for the touch of his cock, and Silco finally relented. With a low growl, he tugged your panties down your thighs, exposing your dripping core to the cool air of the room. You shivered at the sensation, at the way his eye raked over your body, taking in every inch of your exposed skin.
"So beautiful," he murmured, his voice low and thick with desire. "So perfect."
There was a calculated intensity in his gaze, a sense of purpose that sent a thrill of excitement through you. Silco was a man who knew what he wanted and went after it with unwavering focus.
He pushed your legs apart, settling between your thighs as he freed his cock from the confines of his pants. It sprang forth, hard and thick and already dripping with precum. You licked your lips at the sight, your core clenching with anticipation.
But Silco didn't rush, didn't give in to the desperate hunger that burned between you. Instead, he took his time, his fingers tracing along your slick folds with a maddeningly slow pace. You squirmed beneath his touch, your hips rolling shamelessly as you sought more of him.
"Patience," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "I'll give you what you need, but first, I want to savor every inch of you."
His words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and excitement that left you trembling. Silco was a man who took control, who demanded submission, and the thought of being at his mercy only fueled the fire that burned within you.
With a single, measured thrust, he buried himself inside you, stretching you wide around his thick length. You cried out at the sudden intrusion, your back arching off the desk as he filled you completely.
But even as he claimed you, there was a detachment in his movements, a sense that he was simply taking what he needed without any real emotional investment. He set a steady pace, his hips rocking against yours with a calculated precision that left you breathless.
Each thrust was designed to push you closer to the edge, to shatter the fragile control you clung to. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place as he used you for his own pleasure. There was no tenderness in his touch, no whispered words of affection or praise. Instead, there was a cold, clinical efficiency to his movements, as if he was simply fulfilling a basic need.
You could feel the coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter in your core, your body responding to his touch despite the lack of emotional connection. Your nails scrabbled at his back, leaving crescent marks on his skin as you tried to pull him closer, to force some kind of reaction from him.
But Silco remained impassive, his eye never leaving yours as he continued to pound into you with a relentless rhythm. His breath came in short, sharp bursts, his jaw clenched tight with the effort of holding back his own release.
You could tell he was close, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. But still, he didn't give in to the pleasure, didn't let himself fall into the abyss of ecstasy that threatened to consume you both.
With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he found his release. You could feel the hot spurt of his cum filling you, marking you as his own, and a part of you thrilled at the thought of being claimed by him.
As he pulled away, his softening cock slipping from your well-used core, you felt a sudden chill, a sense of abandonment that left you aching for something more. But you knew better than to ask for it, to beg for the affection and tenderness you craved
For a moment, his eye raked over your naked form, taking in the marks he'd left on your skin, the way your body trembled in the aftermath of your shared pleasure.
But then, as quickly as the moment had come, it passed. Silco straightened, his expression closing off and hiding the small bit of tenderness you could see once in him, becoming once again the cold, calculating man you knew him to be.
He passed you some tissues, "Clean yourself up," he ordered, his voice clipped and businesslike. "And don’t forget to tell your group to stay off what it’s not theirs"
With that, he turned and strode towards the door, leaving you lying there on the desk, exposed and vulnerable. You watched him go, a confusing mix of emotions swirling within you. There was the lingering heat of your shared passion, the ache of your body as it remembered his touch. But beneath it all was a growing sense of emptiness, a longing for something more than the cold, clinical coupling you'd just experienced.
You knew Silco was not a man given to tenderness or affection. He was a survivor, a fighter, a man who took what he wanted and moved on without a second thought. And yet, even knowing this, even understanding the futility of your desires, you couldn't help but wish for more.
With a sigh, you pushed yourself up from the desk, wincing slightly as your sore muscles protested the movement. You grabbed your discarded clothes, pulling them on with shaking hands. As you smoothed your clothes, you couldn't help but wonder what would happen next. You were sure this was not the only time you would be here begging for him after all this.
Only time would tell. But one thing was certain - you were in deep, and there was no turning back now. Silco had claimed you, marked you as his own, and whether he admitted it or not, you knew that you would always be his, no matter how much he tried to deny it.
#silco x reader#silco smut#silco#silco arcane#arcane silco#arcane#arcane smut#arcane s2#silco x you#league of legends#arcane season 2#lol#i need him so bad
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spencer that has the weakest pullout game and can’t help but cum inside reader cos she feels so good
it was the first time you and spencer reid had fucked without a condom. he didn't expect it to feel so different, so good, with you wrapped around him, nothing there to seperate the two of you.
he was deep inside you, hips pushing up against the backs of your thighs as he thrusts inside of you, the sound of skin hitting skin and your sopping pussy filled the room. but of course, that was drowned out by spencers moans, his whine, his curses, his whispers. his small,
"oh my god, you feel so good"
"youre so perfect like this"
"making me feel so good sweetheart"
"fuck, i love you so much,"
his voice cracked between words. you heard him so perfectly, with his head buried in your shoulder. your skin was wet with his spit, a result from the wet, sloppy kisses he'd place in the curve of your neck on a particularly good thrust, or after his quiet praises.
your fingers buried in his hair, the other holding onto the smooth of his back. one of spencers hands held him up, his other palm rested on your waist. his voice raised in pitch, moans breaking with desperate pleas.
"baby, please, please can i cum? can i cum inside you? oh my- fuck please let me cum in you please," he rambled almost senselessly, drunk on the feeling of you.
an excited, erratic nod of your head and your whispered, "yes, please yes spencer, please cum in me," were enough to set him over the edge.
spencer came hard, legs shaking as his hips stalled pressing against your own, breathing labored and heavy. he was sure to kiss 'thank yous' into your soft skin. it felt so dirty, but so good, it would be such a shame if this happened again.
and again, and again, and again.
#fluff#mgg#mgg x reader#smut#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#gender neutral reader#mgg smut#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x gn reader#i need him so bad#spencer reid x reader fluff#mgg x reader smut#mgg x gn reader#criminal minds smut#binx rants ☆
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MDNI, 18+
CONTENT | dick riding, overstimulation, unprotected sex, whiny jisung
“fuck, baby.” jisung groaned, his grip on your hips tightened. “slow down.” you couldn’t help it. he looked so hot beneath you, all whiny and powerless. your hands were resting against his chest to keep you steady. you continued to grind your hips harder on him, pushing his cock deeper inside you. “s’too m-much, shit.” he threw his head back against the mattress.
you sent him a sadistic grin, leaning just enough to give him a perfect view of your tits pushed up together. “please, baby.” you rocked your hips, feeling his cock twitch inside you. “you’re doing so good.”
jisung wanted nothing more than to pleasure you, even though his cock was practically limp from how much you were riding him. he lifted his head to face you, encouraging you to continue. it’s not your fault your boyfriend was so sexy.
you grabbed his wrists, guiding his large hands to your chest. he took the hint, kneading your breasts while his fingers played with your nipples.
“oh my god.” you cried out, loving how he handled you. head rolling back as you increase your pace.
jisung watched as you fucked yourself on his cock, tears spilling from your eyes as you tried to reach yet another orgasm. squelching sounds echoed throughout the room, your cum mixed with his spreading across his lower abdomen. he lost count of how many times you’ve came on his cock.
“you’re so wet for me, huh?” jisung grunted, one of his hands slipping to press on your lower stomach. you whimpered, feeling how deep his cock was buried into you. your legs burning from how much you’re grinding on him. he could sense you were getting tired, so he held you by the hips, lifting you lightly while he thrust his hips upwards, helping you fuck yourself on his cock.
“a-almost there, ji.” you breathed out, not being satisfied with how far you were from him. you used your fingers to signal him to sit up, which he did immediately. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, sitting on his cock. you began to grind your hips deeper into his.
“you need me that bad, baby?” he slid his hand between your bodies, fingers finding your clit. “use me all you want.” he drew circles on your already sensitive bud, body trembling from the overwhelming sensation. he attached his lips to your neck, sucking the skin softly. wanting nothing more than to make you feel good.
“i’m about to–” you panted, hips going faster as you tried to chase after your high. “fuck– i’m cumming.” jisung guided your hips, pushing you even further down his cock, feeling you squeeze around him. your release washing over you, legs trembling from the amount of times you’ve came in a span of one hour.
but jisung’s guidance of your hips didn’t falter. “please, baby.” jisung whined. he leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours. “make me cum, please.” he mumbled against your lips.
you rolled your hips, praising him in the process. his cock twitched inside you, his head thrown back as his orgasm approached him. his voice cracking as he moaned your name. feeling his warm cum explode inside you, leaking into his lap.
once you both steadied your breathing, you giggled at jisung’s fucked out state. his hair sticking to his forehead, cheeks flushed as sweat trickled down his body.
“you’re gonna milk me dry, you know that?” a small smile forming on his lips.
“you love it.” you teased, leaning into his body.
“fuck yeah, i do.”
#i need him so bad#park jisung#nct#nct dream#jisung smut#nct smut#jisung imagines#nct imagines#jisung drabbles#nct drabbles#jisung x reader#nct x reader
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IM KICKING MY FEET IN THE AIR IM GEHDJSNXKAIAJZNJAA
sion is in awe. he can’t help but admire every tiny detail of yours. he’s convinced you were sewn together with stars and summer evenings, plopped perfectly in his lap for him to adore.
you always know when his kisses are coming by the brush of his skin. you’ll feel him run his thumb down the center of your palm before bringing it to his mouth. sometimes you’ll hear a whispered “wow,” his fingertips tracing along the curve of your neck soon followed by the ghosting of his lips. he’s unceasingly gentle, constantly watching your expression to catch the smile reach your eyes.
however from your point of view, the flutter of his eyelashes and the tug of a smirk at the corner of his mouth are the real wonder. sometimes you’ll return the favor, pausing to smooth your hands over his shoulders before encircling him in a hug, or taking an extra second to kiss his jaw before slowly dragging up to his lips. the blush that surfaces on the apples of his cheeks makes it click.
you are in awe. sion’s every feature is perfect and you are powerless against it. your heart would ache if you didn’t slow down to stare. you get it now, there’s nothing like marveling at love up close.
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Ghost is a desperate lover, quick to shed you of your clothes, quick to work his mouth against yours, quick to rut his fat cock into your warmth, staining your walls with his length as he writhes against your gummy spots.
Ghost loves control, rough hand against your throat as he gruffs out demands as you bend over at his will, presenting yourself to him as he laps in the sight of you, absolutely aching for him.
Ghost loves you underneath him, all compliant and brain dead at how deep he fucks you, lips trembling out slurred moans as you beg for his load inside you.
VS
Simon is a passionate lover, taking his time as he kneads your heavy breasts under his palms, aching nipples tweaked under his fingers as he suckles one into the wetness of his mouth, lapping his tongue against the nub as he listens to your breathy whines.
Simon loves when you’re both interlocked, limbs crossed together as you hold hands, sweat dripping into a merged mess between you two as you kiss softly, working your lips together in a smooth pool of warmth, skin tingling and eyes closed.
Simon loves you on-top, eyes rolled back as you take control with your shallow bounces, trusting him completely as he slowly meets your thrusts, hands aching around your hips as you mewl at how deep he is, lips moulding into the words ‘I love you’ as you rave on about how good he makes you feel.
#evilgwrl#I need him SO BAD#call of duty x reader#141 x reader#simon riley#ghost#ghost smut#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley fluff#simon ghost smut#simon ghost riley fanfiction#simon ghost#simon riley x you#simon riley smut#ghost call of duty#ghost cod
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you're the one that i want - deadpool / wade wilson
minors dni !! this is 17+ nsfw material !!!
please reblog if you like it! ᡣ𐭩
based on this request! <3
content: three words, baby! the honda odyssey!
word count: 2.5k
warnings: established relationship, no mention of condom (wrap it b4 u tap it!), petnames galore, deadpool is a warning in of himself lol.
a/n: the deadpool brainrot has been so strong recently so thank u guys so much for all ur requests! my return to my deadpool era couldn't have come at a worse time with my exams happening rn but i will try and write as much as i can! love you!
You'd been sitting in the backseat of the "fuck-ass Honda Odyssey", as Wade had described it, arm resting on the centre console, your head propped up on your palm lamely as you turn it left to right, half-listening to Wade and Logan argue like you're at a tennis match.
You'd almost flown forward into the front of the car when it came to an abrupt stop, tyres screeching as you let out a soft yelp in surprise. Wade hears you, and wordlessly pushes you back softly. You'd heard something spat out from Logan, along the lines of "You'll never save the fucking world!", followed by Wade's voice saying, "I'm gonna fight you now." and then the sound of a sickening crunch as he punches Logan in the nose.
It's milliseconds before you see your boyfriend's arm reach back and open your door, gently ushering you out with a soft, "Why don't you go for a walk, pretty girl?"
You know better than to argue, especially with Logan seething in the front seat, so you hop out of the car, shutting the door behind you as you trudge off into the trees, half grateful for being kicked out of the car so you didn't have to listen to Logan's grumbles when you inevitably had to ask him to pull over so you could pee.
You could hear the yelling and grunting in the distance, shaking your head as you hear the faint shatter of glass, followed by a - less than masculine - squeal from your boyfriend. You laughed to yourself, not worried in the slightest as you hear the fighting between the two, Logan's growls echoing through the trees as he squelches his claws into your boyfriend's stomach.
You'd told Wade to give Logan a break, and that eventually he would find out about his 'educated wish', but he hadn't listened, instead continuing to push and push and push Logan until, expectedly, he reached his breaking point.
You wandered around amongst the trees for a while, before slumping against a tree not too far from the car, your eyes growing heavy as you listened to the soft rustle of the leaves above you.
You wake up groggily, looking around the room as you rub sleep from your eyes. You startle when a red suit appears in front of you, but it's not the Deadpool suit that you're all too familiar with.
"I'm Elektra, that's Gambit," the woman points to a man in a helmet, who's stood in the corner, playing with cards, "and that's Blade," she points over her shoulder with her thumb to the man in a long, leather trench-coat.
"I.. uhm.. Hi?" you say, taken aback by this sudden bombardment of strangers.
"We're helping you and your friends get out of the void." Elektra explains, offering her hand to help you stand up. You take it gratefully.
"...Oh, cool..." you say, still groggy from being asleep for so long. "..are.. are they around?"
Elektra nods, pointing outside with her head, "Yellow's by the fire, Red's... around here somewhere."
You nod, thanking her and smiling awkwardly at Blade and Gambit as you walk outside, the smoke from the fire consuming your nostrils as you step out. You spot Logan by the fire, but see that he's sitting with someone.
'She looks an awful lot like that X-23 girl we saw at the TVA.' you think, not ruling out the possibility that it is her with the level of weirdness that had already occurred during your short time in the void. You tread on, looking around before you spot the Honda Odyssey. You shake your head, rolling your eyes as you walk to the drivers door of the car, opening it to reveal your boyfriend in the back-seat, pulling his katana's out of the passenger's seat next to you as you plop into the driver's seat.
He looks up when he hears the car door open, and the white eyes of his mask visible soften as he sees you.
"Hey baby," he coos, scooching forward in the back-seat to press a soft kiss to your cheek through his mask as you sit in the driver's seat, peeking over the headrest to look back at him, "was wonderin' when you were gonna wake up, sleepy head."
You smile softly, before taking a moment to look around at the damage done to the car. Your eyes go wide and your hand flies to your mouth, the other reaching back to swat at Wade's shoulder.
"Wade! What the fuck did you two get up to in here? Jesus Christ!"
You hear a whisper of 'Baby Knife!' followed by a soft grunt as Wade pockets another one of his knives.
"Just some good ol' fashioned fightin', baby! I'm kinda sad you missed it, that shit got good!"
You tut, leaning around the driver's seat to look at him as he's hunched over, digging for another one of his knives beneath the seat.
You hear him mumble something along the lines of 'Hate this fuckin' car' before he shoots up, and you can sense his smile through the mask. He leans back in the seats that are in the very back of the car, right leg thrown over one seat, with his other leg spread, suit-clad knee pressing into the fabric of the other. His eyes sharpen as he looks at you, before groaning softly, throwing his head back in a circle, and sighing.
"Fuck, princess, that fightin's gotten me all worked up," he groans, chin pressed to the top of his chest as he looks at you, eyes narrowed.
You feel your thighs rub together at the way he looks at you, the manspreading the cherry on top of a very, very, delicious looking dessert. He chuckles, gesturing to your thighs with his head.
"Saw that, baby." He laughs to himself before he lifts his hand, beckoning you to him with two fingers, his other hand resting on the headrest of the seat in front of him, twiddling Baby Knife between his fingers.
You squirm in your seat before not so agilely climbing over the centre console, crawling over the seat and onto Wade’s lap. He pockets Baby Knife, bringing a hand up to pull the bottom of his mask up, the other settling on your ass as you straddle his waist.
“Hey doll-face,” he murmurs, smiling and giving your ass a playful squeeze, pulling his mask fully off before placing his hand on the nape of your neck, pulling you into a kiss.
You moan against his lips as you kiss back, his gloved hand giving your ass a firmer squeeze. Wade uses this opportunity to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips as you gasp into his mouth. Your hips grind down subconsciously and he pulls away from the kiss, both of your chests rising quickly as you both try and regain your breath from the heated kiss.
Wade smirks up at you, moving both of his hands to your hips, squeezing softly, pulling a giggle from your lips before he’s engulfing them in another breathless kiss. He moves your hips with his hands, grinding you down on his boner as it tents in his suit, causing him to buck up absentmindedly as he groans into your mouth. Your breathy whimpers vibrate against his lips, and he pulls away, leaning his head back against the headrest behind him.
“…Fuck, doll-face,” he groans, looking up at you, “ look what you're fuckin’ do to me, baby.”
He nods down to his dick, almost bursting out of his suit, and your mouth nearly drops open. Wade thinks to himself that if you were in an animé, you’d have heart emojis bulging from your eyes.
He takes his hands off your hips, crossing his arms behind his head in faux-laziness as he watches you undo the buckle of his belt, slapping the sides of his legs softly, signalling for him to lift his hips.
“Watch it, doll-face.” Wade warns, half-joking, “Ask me nicely, please.”
You groan, giving him your ‘are-you-fucking-serious-right-now’ glare as you tug at his belt. He’d been on the receiving end of this look many times in the past, so he’s unfazed as he chuckles dryly, planting his hips down.
“I can wait, Princess.”
You roll your eyes, huffing. “Please, Wade,” you glare at him, “Will you please lift your hips up so I can get your dick out?”
You add a pout and a flutter of your lashes at the end, and his resolve noticeably crumbles. He huffs, lifting his hips up off the car seat just enough for you to pull down his pants slightly. You dip your hand into his underwear, giving his dick a soft tug before freeing it from the tight pants of his Deadpool suit.
You gather some spit in your mouth, looking at your boyfriend through your lashes before spitting onto the tip of his cock, using your hand to spread it along his length, squeezing softly around the base. Wade groans from below you, his hips bucking into your hand.
“Fuck, hotstuff, ya’ killin’ me here.”
Wade hisses as you squeeze a bit harder around his dick, the pretty ring he’d proposed to you with cold against his skin.
He almost whines, stopping himself by biting his lip, “Oh, c’mon baby, what’d I do to deserve this teasin’, huh? I fought so valiantly against ol’ Wolvie, didn’t I, princess? Don’t I deserve to be treated nicely?”
Something about the whiny-ness of his tone sends a pang to your heart, and pussy, and you grind down against his thigh absentmindedly before putting both your hands on his shoulders.
“Help me out, would ya’, Wadey?” you ask sweetly, shimmying your hips slightly to gain his attention.
His hands fly to your tights, tugging them down your thighs, lifting your legs softly, one by one, and peeling your pants off, leaving you hovering above him in your prettiest pair of panties. You’d been wearing them as a birthday surprise for him, but you’d both been snagged by the TVA before you could put them to good use… until now.
Wade’s breath hitches from beneath you as his eyes land on your panties, his lower lip bitten between his teeth as his chest heaves.
“Fuck, doll-face, what’re you all dressed up for?” he says, tracing a gloved hand over the lacy hem of your white panties, pressing a soft kiss to the little blue bow in the middle, before blowing a puff of cool air onto the damp spot beneath it.
Your legs wobble softly and a shiver runs up your spine, leaving you grateful for your hands planted on your boyfriend's broad shoulders.
You muster the breath to say, “They’re for you, baby… Well, they were for your birthday…”
He groans softly, pressing a soft kiss to your mound before pushing the thin fabric to the side, swiping a gloved finger through your slick.
“Shit, baby.. Y’so wet f’me,” he says, voice breathless. “Fuck those stupid fucking day players, keeping my beautiful fiance, and her beautiful fucking panties from me on my birthday. What assholes, hey baby?” He says, pressing his thumb to your clit harshly as he blows another puff of air onto your slick pussy, causing your hips to buck into the air.
You whine softly, bringing a hand to pump Wade’s cock once again, nodding mindlessly at his question that he knows you didn’t even hear.
Wade chuckles, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest and shooting straight to your cunt, your thighs squeezing around his hand as he thumbs your clit lazily.
You shuffle yourself forward on his lap, holding onto Wade’s strong shoulder with your hand, the other slowly pumping his cock as you lift yourself up, breathing hitching as you push yourself down onto the tip of Wade’s dick.
His breath hitches beneath you, rubbing soothing circles on your hips through his gloves as you sink down onto him. His hands grip your hips tighter as he bottoms out, your eyes squeezed shut as you clamp down on his length.
“Shit, baby, I could blow my load right now.” Wade gasps, head thrown back as his grip tightens on your hips, moving you up and down on his cock. You follow suit with his movements, digging your nails into the fabric of his suit as you leverage yourself on his shoulders, pushing yourself up and slamming yourself down on his cock, a moan slipping from your lips at every drag of his dick along your walls.
Your hips stutter slightly, and Wade takes this as his cue, moving his hands from your hips to gain a strong grip on your ass, lifting you up and slamming his hips to meet yours. You whine softly, eyebrows knitting together and biting your lip as the soft squelch of your wetness reverberates around the car, your chest heaving with exertion, skin dewy with a thin sheen of sweat.
You throw your head back, moaning wantonly, one hand coming off of Wade’s shoulder and pressing against the roof of the car.
“...Shit…Wade!” you stammer as he moves one hand to your lower stomach, his thumb pressing harshly on your clit through his glove.
You slam your hips down to meet Wade's quicker, chasing your high as Wade slams his hips up to meet yours, his head thrown back against the head-rest behind him, eyes closed, as he groans softly.
"C'mon, doll-face," Wade grunts from beneath you, rubbing cruel circles on your clit as he bucks into you, "...y'gonna cum? Can feel you squeezing around me, princess."
You moan softly, babbling something like a 'uh-huh' as your eyebrows knit together, eyes shutting tight as you feel the coil building in your lower belly, threatening to snap any moment.
Wade feels you clamping around him, looking up and watching as you throw your head back, your grip on his shoulder tightening.
"That's it, baby," he groans from under you, pinching at your clit meanly causing you to whimper softly, your head coming forward, forehead resting against his as you grind down onto his cock.
"C'mon, hotstuff, give it to me..." he grunts, feeling his own orgasm coming as you clench down on him like a vice, a string of curse words sputtering from your lips as he feels you gush around him.
"...Shit, baby... Good girl," he coos, fucking you through your orgasm as he cums, soft grunts sounding in your ear as he bucks into you before stilling, stopping the movements of his thumb on your clit, as he lifts you up gently and pulls out. He pulls his hand away from your clit, but not before collecting a part of the mixture of yours and his cum on his gloved fingers, pushing it slowly back in to your drooling pussy. You whine, overstimulated, and he tuts, pushing your panties back into place and pulling your pants back up your legs, leaning back in the seat as you slump against his chest.
He smiles, giving your bum a soft pat and pressing a kiss to your hairline, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “I lied, doll-face, the Honda Odyssey fucks, hard.”
©trumanbluee - reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated! but i do not wish for my work to be republished, translated, or copied. thanks!
#i need him so bad#the honda odyssey fucks hard!#deadpool#deadpool smut#deadpool fanfiction#deadpool x reader#deadpool oneshot#deadpool x you#deadpool x oc#wade wilson#wade wilson smut#wade wilson fanfiction#wade wilson x reader#wade wilson x you#deadpool imagine#wade wilson imagine#deadpool fic#deadpool fanfic#wade wilson fanfic#wade wilson deadpool#wade winston wilson#deadpool x reader smut#honda odyssey scene#wade wilson x reader smut#wade wilson x you smut#deadpool x you smut#wade wilson fic#deadpool x fem reader#wade wilson x fem reader#wade winston wilson x fem reader
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you guys don’t understand, only HE could fix me
#he really could fix me#he is so hot#i need him so much#i need him so bad#bang chan#bangchan#skz#stray kids#stray kids everywhere all around the world#stray kids bang chan#skz bang chan#christopher bang#stay#skz stay#dominate world tour
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Can I request how Megs would feel if he fought his beloved, reader needs to beat some sense to him and help him from being blinded with hatred. (Tf one plz) Also I want a good ending cuz I'm still sad about the movie. And if it isn't obvious cybertronian reader.
MEGATRON X READER
Obviously Tf One spoilers! God this was so fun to write, I just hope I got their personalities right. I haven't written anything this long in a while !! Also I never knew I'd be so much of a Megatron enjoyer until this movie...yeah, it took me this long.
[ cybertronian! reader Angst and eventually fluff, could be pretty rushed tbh but I just want him to healll. Very NOT canon to the movie
You knew it wasn’t your D-16 the moment his optics changed. Or maybe it was the way he distanced himself from you and your friends in a matter of hours--maybe minutes. It was a subconscious, subtle shift, but one you wished you could have talked him out of.
You suppose you saw the changed D-16 once you made it to the hideout of the High Guard fliers. Your once-kind, responsible lover was gripping Starscream by the neck, his hold tightening with every word from the flier beneath him.
You glanced at Orion, Elita, and Bee, all frozen in horror. You panicked and you stepped forward, placing your servo on his shoulder. Before you could continue, he whirled around, optics burning with a cold, harsh light—practically glaring at you.
“Y/N…“
“D, what the hell are you doing?!” You demanded, your voice steady despite his glare. “This isn’t like you, this isn’t the way, come on.”
He didn’t respond. Instead, his optics locked onto Starscream again. He was seething, the flier grinning through the pain wasn't helping your case either.
“Come on, do it! Do it, don’t be a c-coward!” Starscream sputtered through glitching vocal processors, even as D-16’s servo squeezed harder, threatening to crush the life from him.
D-16 narrowed his optics, “I’m not a coward!” He roared as Starscream’s cackling turned into garbled screeches
You attempted to push him away, roughly shoving him by the shoulder. “D, stop it!” He shoved you back. The sudden force sent you stumbling, and when you steadied yourself, you found yourself staring down the barrel of his arm cannon. His orange optics were locked on you, but for a fleeting moment, they softened. It was like he didn't recognize you, but then he hesitated.
“Stay out of my way, from now on.” He said lowly, as if his words pained him. “Please.”
His hesitation vanished as the cannon swung back toward Starscream. You stood there, stunned, until Orion and Elita rushed over to pull you up. Then you just stood and did nothing.
You watched in horror as D-16 continued to declare himself as someone they should follow to victory. Oh, you knew how much he wanted Sentinel dead now. Hell, you did too. But you weren’t sure if this was the right way. You weren’t a bad bot. Neither was D-16, he never was. You had to do something...before things got bad.
You recalled the moment just before he…snapped.
___
“Y/N, don’t you see? He’s been lying this whole time.” “Yes, D. I see, I know. But—“ “I want him dead. I just-I need..I need to see him suffer. Look what he did. To you. To me. To us. We could have been..so much more.” He placed his servo over your spark, right above where your transformation cog was. He used to dream of you two racing together, having fun. Hell, flying even. Back then he didn’t know what he would transform into. “We can still be more, D. We have a bigger purpose now, we were given the ability to transform by a prime himself. We just need to..show everyone the truth. And we will. Then we can—“ “It’s not enough.” He blurted out, pulling you closer as if it was the last time he’d hold you. “You deserve so much better. I promise you, Y/N. I promise you he will pay.”
___
Things only got worse from there. You reached your breaking point when you saw D-16—no, Megatron—vanish Orion himself. You couldn’t believe it. They were like brothers. And now, your beloved had become something else entirely. And yet, you still felt helpless.
You rushed over, avoiding and pushing the other bots as you made your way to where D-16 stood. They all cheered him on as he was trying to lift Sentinel into the air. He was going to kill him. He really was.
“D, stop it! Look what you’ve done!” You shouted, stomping your way forward, frustration boiling inside. You slammed your shaking fist into his shoulder. Primus, you were pissed at him right now.
“Please, please! Tell me what the hell you’re doing. This wasn’t a part of the plan.” You pleaded with him, hoping you’d somehow get him to react. Instead, he inched closer, the same stance you’d expect of someone challenging you. “No, you’re wrong. This was the plan. It was what had to be done. How can I get you to see that.” He visibly calmed for a moment, reaching out a servo to brush against the side of your faceplate. Despite everything, it’s still him. And he loved you.
You hesitated, then stepped back. Oh, how it pained you. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand your goal.” You said, barely above a whisper. Time seemed to freeze, and he slowly lowered his arm. In an instant, you watched his gaze darken.
“Then you’re just in my way.”
__
Your hopes were revived as Orion, now as Optimus Prime, came back, the matrix of leadership implanted into his chest. Optimus had saved the life of Sentinel (perhaps a little undeserved), knowing there was another way to deal with this. But now he has to save..practically all of Iacon. Maybe just maybe, between the two of you, you can stop Megatron.
The fight between the two friends wasn’t solving anything, you only feared they’d end up killing each other. You got rid of your fear, inserting yourself in the fight just as they managed to gain some distance from eachother. He grunted as you shoved him harder this time, his footing a bit unsteady from his existing injuries.
“What are yo—“
“I told you, stop. This,” you punctuated every word with a shove. “Is. Madness!” You panted, glaring up at your lover. “Come back to me, D. This isn’t the real you. I know it isn’t.” You pleaded, he responded with an irritated grunt.
“I, am Megatron. Not D-16, I am not that bot anymore. Y/N, stand down-“
“No! You stand down! You’re acting foolishly right now! I won't just stand here and watch you destroy yourself and--” You yelled, going straight for him to push him again, but he stopped you with a raise of his cannon. You froze in your tracks.
"Back down, Y/N." He said with a growl. You narrowed your optics, leaning your frame right up against the barrel, hearing a light clink.. The glow illuminated your armor. For a second, you saw his optics widen. He paused, licking his teeth. "I don't want to fight you. But I-"
"But you will if you have to, right? That's what you were going to say? Do it then," Your voice cracked, "I have nothing left to lose."
He huffed, so be it. He lunged towards you, and you raised your arms, blocking the strike. You opened up to move his blaster out of the way, leaving your side open to his incoming fist. It collided with your side, sparks flying from the contact. You grunted, stumbling back. When he came at you again, you caught his arm, pulling him close until you were face to face.
"We're both being foolish right now, are you happy yet? You panted, he grits his teeth.
"Quit saying that!" He growled, shoving you away. He shot his cannon, the blast flying past your side. You slid to avoid it, earning another blast from him. He fired his cannon, but the shot missed. He was aiming wide on purpose. You blinked, you knew his aim wasn't that bad...primus, he really was missing on purpose. If you weren't fighting right now, you'd swoon.
"Are you missing on purpose?" You asked incredulously.
"No! I.. yes..no! Listen to me, Y/N. We can end this now, if you let me do this one thing."
"You've already done enough. D..."
"Don't call me that."
He lunged again, but this time, you sidestepped, charging into him and sending him crashing to the ground, the side of his face hit the ground. You managed to pin him momentarily, struggling to keep him from standing.
"This isn't what you want. Trust me.." You paused. "Megs. Please."
He tensed beneath you, then slightly loosened as you called him 'Megs.'
"This is revenge, it won't help you feel any better. Not long-term. You'll only continue hating and hating, I can't bear to lose you like this. It's...it's tearing us apart." You shuddered, loosening your grip.
Eventually, you felt his breathing slow to a decent pace, slowly, you climbed off him, kneeling beside him. He sighed. "I..I don't know how to stop." He quietly said. You leaned forward, placing a servo against his jaw. "I can help you. I will help you. Megs, you have me with you. You have..Optimus with you. We're all with you."
You both knelt silently for a moment, gathering each other's thoughts. Finally, he had the courage to look up at you. You might never see those big yellow optics of his again, but at least now they weren't so cold. They held some type of sincerity. "I'm..so sorry." He breathed out.
You almost sighed in relief. "You're still angry, and that's okay, alright? Now it's my turn to promise you, we'll deal with this differently. It won't feel fair at first, but it's the right thing to do. Stand up." You gently said, extending your servo out to him. He slowly took your servo, his grip as gentle, almost afraid of breaking you. Primus, how he regrets hurting you. You can see it written all over his face. He was blinded by rage, he was indeed acting foolish. His optics briefly flicked to Sentinel, still on the ground and honestly, grateful to still be in one single piece. He turned away before the anger could return.
"I didn't want to hurt you," He whispered.
You softly scoffed, gently nudging him. This time, without any defensive intent. "You controlled yourself better than I did. I wanted to beat your aft, D-- Megs." You joked, earning a small, bittersweet smile.
You took your servos in his, softly smiling at him. You turned to Optimus, who was just as relieved as you were. "Optimus, do you think Megs and I can help rebuild Iacon? The way it's supposed to be?"
Optimus smiled gently, looking proud. "Of course you can. We all can." He looked at Megatron, his gaze firm but kind. "I am glad to have you back, friend."
Megatron nodded, still tense but..accepting. One day, they'll be as brothers again. You just know it. "As am I." He said, turning to you. His gaze softened. "Y/N...I love you."
"I love you as well, Megs."
#grahhh#i need him so bad#transformers#maccadam#transformers one#transformers x reader#transformers one x reader#d 16#d16 x reader#transformers d16#megatron#megatron x reader#megatron transformers#cybertronian reader
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