#You submitted this and I couldn't do much about it sorry!

[pianocat939]

part 2 plz

Yandere Player 230 (Thanos) Headcanons Part 2

(IF YOU HAVENT WATCHED EP.6 YET NO LOOKY)

Tw: No murder (yet), brief mentions of violence and potential murder, unconsensual touching (NOT NSFW), threats

I know him being killed isn't a big surprise- BUT IM STILL MAD. I want bro to come back. I need him. Heck at this point I'm just gonna watch all the dramas T.O.P has been in because man's just too fine.

Part 1

Beginning where I left off, during the Merry-Go-Round Mingle game, you best bet he won't let you be separated from him. He'll hold your extremely tight if you try to get away. He'll turn his head, and give you a very maniacal closed-lip smile.

"Don't run mousey. I'm not letting you get killed. I wanna be able to play one more game with you."

If it's just 2 players? He won't let the others kick you out. He'll probably just kick someone and run off while holding you in his hand. Once you're in the room, he'll probably pin you to wall give you big smooch somewhere on your face. Literally could be anywhere.

If you resist, he'll just hug you tight and cover you in even more kisses. He's just waiting for you to submit.

If you just stand there and not really do much about it, he'll hug you tight.

"Good. I knew you were a good mousey. Those bastards can't compare."

During the game, if someone tries to separate you or prevent you guys from winning, he won't hesitate to hit the violence button. You can honestly just stand there and watch him go nuts.

For the voting after the game, if you choose to continue the game, he'll be much more pacified. Just doing his usual clinging and teasing. He likes holding hands with you and swinging your arms in-sync as you wait for the voting to finish.

If you choose to not continue the game, he'll stare into your soul. He couldn't believe you. Weren't you supposed to be his good little mousey? You won't expect much during the voting, but during meal time he'll go nuts. He'll pull you aside and keep you pinned against the wall. He won't let you ignore him.

He'll harshly whisper to you that if you pull something against him he would personally kill any of the people who want to continue. All to prevent you from leaving him.

"Don't pull that shit, 'kay? All those fuckers are gonna die anyway. Just you and me baby. Just you and me."

As we know, he dies during the teams fight. But I want to do a possible part 3 where he does in fact live. Basically a theory on what he would do if he survived.

So until I upload a part 3, that'll be that. Sorry this part was shorter, but I need to think a bit more for part 3 considering I'll be twisting away from the drama's story.

—————————————————————————

Chat I would absolutely allow him to drag me into a room during the Mingle game. Like sir of course I will follow. Bro's voice is simply perfect like could you please read a book to me and I will be knocked out within minutes.

- Celina

[devotedsweetheart]

・❥ CALEBS FAVORITE KINKS !!!

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 0:10

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ rundown :: a list of what i think are calebs top 5 kinks !

WARNINGS :: NSFW! 18+, incest , oral sex , bondage , collaring , orgasm denial , porn w/ no plot

a/n :: these are not in order !! :)

1. INCEST :: now, this might seem a little bit overboard , but to caleb ? it's nothing new . after knowing you for so long ... growing up together , living in the same house , sharing everything with each other .. it's like a normal thing to him. so normal to the point where he'll call you his 'sissy' during different times of day . " sissy , could you grab my water from the table for me ? thank you, love . " it just rolls of the tongue !! especially during your alone time, too . it slips out more than you or him could count . when he first moaned it he never even payed attention to it , thinking of it as nothing . it was only when you gave him a look that he couldn't quite read did he notice what he accidentally said . "o-oh my god pips im.. im so sorry. that was fucking weird and i shouldnt have said it... im a damn pervert." shame flooded his face ... but he knew it would happen again , whether he could control it or not .

2. BONDAGE :: listen , he doesnt want to be tied up because hes horny , it's because he trusts you so much ... and that kind of turns him on . the fact he can willingly submit to you and trust you without having to worry about what you're doing . although he likes to be restrained , he'd never do it to you .. only if you asked him . he'd do anything you asked for (within reason) , whether thats strapping you to the bed with ropes , chains , a belt (his) , cuffs .. whatever you please . all he's worried about is them scuffing up those pretty wrists of yours . "nono wait baby .. your skin, it's red . do you need me to stop ? i'll stop right now for you , you look like you're in pain . let me kiss it better pips .." is what he'd say on any other occasion .. but the times when you didnt look so in pain , thats when his freak comes out . "you cant run away silly .. stop trying to run from me . i wont allow it , and neither will those restraints you begged me to use on you . i actually quite like the way you look right now... all tied up and cute for me ."

3. COLLARING :: i feel like this is the most canon you could ever get . he'd seriously be into making you wear a collar for him , wanting everyone to know who you belong to & to not try with his girl ! also , he'd want one with a bell .. just so you couldnt escape without being noisy ;) . buuuut he's up for wearing one for you as well , he also wants to let people know who he belongs to . i think he'd get one for the both of you regardless of you wanting one or not , his need to get people off of you is too strong, as he is alarmingly obsessed with you . the collar isn't just used as man repellent , it turns him on so fucking much . knowing that you're practically his property gets his dick hard to the point of ache , he'd definitely make you wear it during sex . mumbling incoherent sentences about how much he loves the way it looks on your gorgeous neck .. how he never wants you to take it off . "as long as you're here, with me, you aren't touching it . fuck , you're so good for me .."

4. ORGASM DENIAL :: hear me out . it's late at night and he notices your location isnt on ... he texts and calls you multiple times without an answer . eventually , he tracks you down and confronts you about going out without his knowledge / consent . after he's done scolding you , that night , he'd drag you into his car as soon as he could & not let you cum . he would adore hearing you beg for him , solely because it feeds into his desire for you to need him as much as he does you . he wouldnt be too fond if you ended up doing it to him ... maybe as revenge or something , but nonetheless , he would be in pieces . pleading , begging , writhing , all of the above just to feel your perfect cunt squeeze around him one more time so he can cum . he would never put his hands on you , but he would just get so desperate ... he might have to move you himself !! at that point , all he would manage were whimpers and prayers . "ohmygod pips please .. im sorry! okay! im sorry .. i can't take this anymore baby , i need to cum . i need it so fucking bad ."

5. FACE SITTING :: caleb takes "the best way to die is by thigh" way too seriously . he would happily pass away while in between your thighs ... he loves eating you out so much it's kind of concerning . the moment his lips are on your core hes not letting up until you've cum over and over again on his face .. hes addicted to the taste of you . his deep obsession with your juices is so bad that he has to have you suffocating him , almost breaking his nose , using his face as a toy ... he can't get enough . i think this roots from the fact that he jerks off to your voice all the time & that makes him so attached to all your moans . especially when you call out his name while you cum .. he thinks about those moments way too often .

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ in conclusion :: caleb would really do whatever you asked , aka hes into anything , but these are the ones he really enjoys . <3

[mattslilies]

Nice Try - C.S.

"it was worth a shot, baby." or... the one where you want to dominate chris, and he plays along for a bit, but ends up taking his control back before you're done. warnings: switch!chris, switch!reader, kinda power bottom!chris until we go back to dom!chris, riding, unprotected p in v (don't try at home kids), praise (both receiving), degradation (both receiving), edging (m receiving), overstimulation (f receiving) word count: 1.3k a/n: requested by anon! idk guys this is pure filth. sorry. part two which has actual sub chris maybe??

you loved your sex life. chris never left you feeling unsatisfied, always making sure that you felt absolutely amazing before he even thought once about his own pleasure. but, that didn't mean that you didn't want to explore a few new avenues with him.

you straddled him, his dick deep inside of you, your hands attempting to pin his wrists above his head as you slowly rode him. you couldn't believe you'd gotten him into this position.

chris never submitted to you. he held a very dominant role in your bedroom, even when you were on top of him. he was a power bottom whenever you rode him, both of you very clear on who was still in charge. but today, you'd approached him, wanting to change that.

"i want to dominate you this time."

chris had scoffed in shock, the suggestion completely ridiculous to him. he'd never even given a thought to letting you take control.

"what?"

you'd stood your ground, head up and firm as you stared at him.

"you heard me. i want to dominate you. i want to be in control this time. i want you to listen to me."

he'd shaken his head in disbelief, not thinking that you were actually serious, but the longer he stared at you, he started to realize that you weren't backing down. you really wanted this. and even though chris didn't have faith in you being able to do it, knowing your submissive tendencies, he was never one to deny you something that you wanted.

so, he agreed.

he couldn't believe you'd gotten him into this position.

everything about this situation was unfamiliar to him. he was not used to being in such a vulnerable way, no knowing what was coming next, not knowing what you wanted him to do. every part of him was screaming in defiance, not wanting to listen to anything you say, but the light in your eyes showed him how much you were enjoying this, and he wanted you happy more than anything.

he groaned as you rolled your hips forward, his thighs twitching at the stimulation.

"fuck, baby, move faster."

his hands twitched, as if to grab you, but you tightened your grip around his wrists, shaking your head.

"no, no. you don't tell me what to do tonight, remember? i pick the speed, and you get to just sit there and take it."

he gritted his teeth, hating how the tables had turned. it was normally him who was saying things like that, reminding you that he had full control over you. you picked up your speed, wanting to break him, see him surrender underneath you.

his head tipped back, a hiss escaping his open mouth.

"shit- just like that, god-"

you hummed in approval, loosening your grip on his hands as the pleasure overtook you as well, moans flowing from your lips as you ground against him, clit pressing perfectly against his pelvis as he hit every perfect spot inside you.

"yes, mmph, baby, doing so good for me."

you trailed off, losing a bit of yourself in the feeling as you praised chris, knowing even when he was topping you, he loved to know he was doing a good job. you rode him right to the edge, feeling him twitch inside you, and knowing he was close, you stopped completely.

he groaned, loud and pained, as all stimulation was cut off, his orgasm hanging right there in front of him, but he just couldn't get there.

"what the fuck, baby?!"

you gently patted the side of his face, fake pity in your expression as you mocked him a little.

"relax, sweetheart, i'll let you cum... eventually."

you started moving again, his hands shooting down to grab your waist. you let him hold his hands there for a while, but when he started trying to make his own pace, you stopped him.

"absolutely not. don't make me tie your hands up because you can't hold off for a few minutes. that's pathetic behavior."

his face flushed red, partial arousal at your words, partial anger because how dare you speak to him that way? as you brought him back to the edge again, clenching tight around him, listening as a whimper slipped past his lips.

his eyes widened as the sound left his mouth, not believing that he had just made it. you clenched around him again, hoping he would do it again, and he did. you leaned down, kissing him as you brought him closer and closer to his climax, pulling back only to whisper to him.

"good boy. taking it so well, aren't you?"

and just like that, you stopped again, ripping his blissful high away from him as quickly as you'd gotten him there, and he sobbed. you wiped a tear off of his waterline, kissing his forehead, gentle praise falling from your lips, mixed with a few stinging words.

"you're just so desperate to cum, aren't you?"

"you're doing so well for me, sweetheart, i'm so proud of you."

"'s nice to have you like this, keep you under me."

you knew that he was out of his element here, so you wanted to comfort him, not wanting to overwhelm him too much. however, before you could even blink, chris took advantage of your moment of kindness.

he flipped you over, your back suddenly pressed against the bed as he hovered over you, fire in his eyes as he stared down at your shocked expression.

"'m sorry baby, you just don't look right on top of me. this is so much better."

he didn't give you another moment's pause before beginning to set a brutal pace, as if trying to punish you for your pathetic attempt at dominance with his thrusts. you cried out, your hands reaching to grab him, nails scratching down his back, but he easily grabbed your arms, pinning them above you just like you had done to him.

"not so funny now, is it baby? and i'm stronger than you, so you know your arms aren't going anywhere, sweetheart."

the pleasure overtook your entire body, tears quickly springing to your eyes. you whimpered underneath chris, legs wrapping around his waist as if to keep him from going anywhere, something he had no plans to do anyways.

"chris! shit, p-please, i-i, ngh!"

he didn't even flinch, looking down at you, mirroring your earlier actions by wiping a tear from your waterline, a mocking smile on his face.

"what is it, baby? use your words."

you sobbed, words failing you as you shook your head back and forth, your body squirming away from his movements. he pulled you back onto him, holding him in place.

"don't run from me, honey. you're not going to get anywhere. just take it like the good girl i know you can be."

"n-need to cum!"

he smiled, knowing he'd absolutely ruined you, but even in your fucked out state, you still knew you needed his permission.

"that's my girl. go ahead, baby, cum for me. show me that you enjoy being my little slut way more than that dominant shit you tried to pull."

you whined, pulsing your juices all over his cock as you came, hands scrabbling against his hold for something to grip onto. he fucked you all the way through it, your body tinged with overstimulation as you sobbed through the aftershocks, feeling him tense and release inside of you.

he leaned down, brushing your hair off of your forehead and kissing it.

"you did so good for me, baby. you belong here, 'kay? no more of that trying to be dominant bullshit. i always make you feel good, don't i?"

you nodded, weakly, the exhaustion setting in as he spoke to you.

you were perfectly fine not being dominant anymore.

taglist <3

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[bunny-jpeg]

blueberry muffins with mai tail x Lando Norris?🥰

bakery menu

hey! do you want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu!! there's a whole host of things to check out. there are endless options and combinations. i accept larger orders and orders from fandoms outside of f1. i like writing these so i keep makin' em! so thank you! and for this anon thank you for the short and sweet order! i hope you love it!!

blueberry muffins ("i don't think it'll fit") + mai tai (loss of virginity) served by lando norris (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, first time/loss of virginity, slow sex, lando takes your virginity (and is very nice about it), best friend!reader

when you were a teenager, you would often have dreams of this happening. to be intimate with the likes of lando norris, a boy turned man that you had known for a large chunk of your life. you had admitted to him during his visit back home that even after all the time you were still a virgin.

and without much thought he asked, 'want me to fix that?" and you almost fell out of your seat at the bar.

you swallowed and said, "yes." and while you'd try to play it off like the alcohol talking. that was a big fat lie, about as big as the crush you'd been harbouring for lando since your days in school.

you walked back to your flat, lando's hand in the back pocket of your jeans. you took a detour to an corner shop opened at this hour and bought a small pack of condoms. better safe than sorry.

"last thing you want to happena fter your first time i get pregnant." he laughed, "especially by the likes of me." then paid for the condoms before he led you out of the store and back to your flat. he remained close to you, loving the feeling of such intimacy between the two of you.

he kept an arm around you with the condoms in the back pocket of his jeans. you led him up the steps to your place and got the door open. once it was closed behind the both of you, lando took you by the shoulders and pulled you into a kiss.

"you have no idea how beautiful you are." he said.

"there's no need to butter me up, lando." you laughed as you gave him a little bit of a shove. but he only came back closer and held your chin to kiss him.

when the kiss eventually broke and you grabbed him by the wrist to bring him to your bedroom. that was when the clothes came off. lando put the pack of condoms on the nightstand as you got into the bed. lando eyed you up and down and licked his lips without thinking.

"and no one has ever had sex with you?" he couldn't believe it. the sight of you was beautiful, sitting up on your bed and looking at him, "no one? at all?"

you shook your head, "no one.. i just was too busy."

lando nodded as he got into bed with you. he was naked and he reached for you. he touched your soft skin, "are you sure you want to do this? i don't want you to feel pressured."

you shook your head, "it's all fine, lando." you reached for him an softly kissed him on the lips. his hand trailed up and down your side before he put you on your back. he eyed you down, taking in the sight of you.

"good. i want this to be good for you." he cupped your face, "you only deserve the best." he stroked his cock before he leaned over you to grab one of the condoms from the package. he got it on before he leaned back to look at you.

"i don't think it'll fit. what if it doesn't fit?" your words were a bit of an ego boost, but lando wanted to assure you. of course he looked like he wasn't going to fit, you had never been with anyone else.

"then i'll spend all night making sure it fits for the next time." he promised as he got into your space once more.

you got your legs around his waist at his request and he rubbed the protected tip of his cock up against your slick pussy. he sank into your pussy slowly, he took his time to make sure you were comfortable.

"are you okay?"

you nodded in response, "yeah, just never felt this before. this is different than any of my toys." your cheeks went hot, "better though! much better!" you shifted a little in your spot on the bed.

when he got to the base, he exhaled. he felt a shudder in his body. you felt like a dream. you were painfully beautiful. you drove him wild. you had for years, even when you over plucked your eyebrows and had braces in secondary school. beautiful then, beautiful now.

lando was lucky to be the one to take your virginity.

he moved against you slowly. his hands on your hips as he rocked against you. he wasn't putting too much force behind his thrusts, he couldn't. this was your first time and he didn't want to scare you. he could tell that your cheeks were warmed, even if he could see them fully due to hands covered your face.

"don't hide from me, beautiful. i want to see it all." his words were comforting as he moved against you. he rocked against you, his pace slowly gained momentum. he added, "please, beautiful."

you hated how his words impacted you, they made your cheeks feel flushed as you pulled your hands away and pulled him closer to you by the shoulders. he kissed you deeply as you moved against one another. you moaned against his lips and your stomach was in knots. here you were, under your best friend. letting him fuck you like you had dreamed about for years.

as if lando didn't do the same all that time. even when he was with other people, he thought of you. he wanted to make sure it was all special for you. even thrust, kiss and movement was perfect for you. as it was what you deserved. a perfect for time.

"you feel great, lando. thank you."

"of course, anything for you, beautiful. better me than some scumbag from your school. someone you could trust." someone you could love. but those words hung on his tongue before he brought you in for another searing hot kiss. lando had been playing chicken with his feelings for years, which was why he jumped at the chance to have sex with you.

and the way you looked at him as he moved against you was the hottest part. you looked up at lando like he hung the stars in the evening sky. that he was for a brief moment your entire world. the universe confined to your shoe box bedroom where the bed was creaky from years of sleeping. it wasn't used to these kinds of activities.

it didn't take long for you to feel close to climax. it felt similar to when you pleasured yourself in the same bed. but the movements made the air get caught in your throat. oh, this was something else. you panted and whined as the other man looked down at you.

"fuck you're beautiful." he panted as he rutted against you. his movements were quick, but not painfully rough. he held your hips for good leverage. i could feel the sweat as his temples and his heart hammering in his chest.

he knew he was a lucky man.

your toes curled and your back arched when you climaxed first. lando would make sure you got yours first before he got his. and when you relaxed after reaching your peak, he hiked your hips a little higher and moved against your faster. to a speed that he knew was going to send him over the edge.

you scratched a this back, leaving pretty red lines and he continued to fuck you. this was something else. he knew he wouldn't last long and soon he finished inside the condom while inside of your sweet pussy. he groaned into your shoulder and arched his back from the heightened pleasure.

"date me." he said, "please. just date me."

you blinked at him, you immediately coming back to your senses, "what?"

he kissed you as he slowed his hips to a stop, "let's go out, for real. not when we'd go on pretend dates as kids. i want you... more than this. everything."

you kissed him once more before he pulled out. the fight taken out of both of you. your heart pounded from his words. the deceleration felt like a streak of cold through you. but in a way that made you alert. you had been friends for years.

it would make sense, but still it left you breathless.

you laid curled up in his arms. focusing on his sleepy breathing he was practically knocked out by the time his climaxed. he kept you in his arms. protecting you while under the covers, you had suddenly become a safety blanket for him. you carefully trailed your fingers up and down his arm. this was a dream come true, but you were left wide awake. lando wasn't asleep long as he woke up a little bit.

he yawned a little bit, eyes slightly closed, "go to sleep, beautiful." he said tiredly, "i'll ask you out for real tomorrow. flowers and all that. can't right now, just wanna hold you" then shifted you closer to him and fell back to sleep.

tomorrow you'd have to have a grown up conversation about what you were. and the only thing that allowed you relax for the night was the promise that he'd ask you out. that lando wanted you as much as you wanted him. <3

[chunghasweetie]

Haiii i've never submitted a request so bare with me.

What do you think about a criminal jk who's been in prison for over a year (don't know what crime u can pick honestly) him and y/n are in a established relationship and she's been waiting all this time for him to get out. Anyway he comes home and yk.. i'm sure you can get the rest ;)

𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐘 | J.JK

— pairing | fem!oc x criminal!jjk

— summary | (sorry it took so long!🩷) jungkook’s been locked up for 4 years and he’s finally back to see you !

— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)

unprotected sex, cursing, praising, daddy kink, dirty talk, crying, fluff(?)

— word count | 3.5k words

— song suggestion | wrong in the right way — chris brown

It was his first night freed from his 4 year jail sentence. After having a buddy drop off his car on the way to her, he was finally there.

Locked up for assault and battery and countless other charges he was finally free and finally able to see his woman again.

His tatted, muscular body stood at her doorstep, “Fuck,” He exhaled, taking a drag from his cigarette.

He was anxious to see her after endless phone calls and letters for years. He surprised her a day early. He finally stopped thinking about it and knocked at her door.

“Coming!” She hurried down the stairs, not expecting any guests at that hour.

She was in her pajama outfit, hair lightly curled and her face bare beside some eye brightener.

She opened the door, and she had almost gone into shock.

She came to a full body pause, color practically draining from her face when she seen him. “J-Jungkook!”

Jungkook's eyes softened at the sight of her, seeing the tears. He stepped forward, grabbing her in a tight embrace.

“I missed you so fucking much Y/n.” He mumbled into her hair. His hands ran up and down her back, holding her close.

She sobbed, “You bastard! Why didn’t you let me know you got out early?! I would’ve picked you up, done my makeup better, took you to dinner—“ She rambled.

Jungkook pulled back, gazing down at her with a smirk.

“Because I wanted to surprise you, Y/n. And you look fucking perfect just like this.” He ran his hand through her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. “Finally face to face with my queen.”

“Fucking come in.” She sniffed. “All standing here in my doorway.” She hurried him in.

Jungkook stepped inside, his eyes scanning the apartment.

It looked a lot different than what he had remembered. It was a lot more modern and a bit girly. But it still felt like home.

He took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume. He followed her to the living room, his eyes locked on her as she walked away from him. He couldn't help but grin.

He was finally home.

“Missed you so much” She sniffed. “I didn’t fucking plan anything— Shit. You gotta be hungry right? Are you cold?”

“Relax baby. I didn’t expect you to be completely ready tonight,” He wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her close to him.

“But yes, I am fucking starving. Even thought I just wanna sit here and hold you.” He nuzzled his face into her neck, breathing in her scent.

“No baby— Gotta take care of you first. Probably want to eat good. Prison must’ve been so rough.” She pouted, babying him.

“Yeah, it was. But nothing's worse than being away from you, ma. You know that, right?” He pulled away from her, turning her around to face him.

He cupped her cheeks, his thumbs rubbing against her soft skin. “I missed your smile, your laugh, your attitude. Everything Y/n.”

“I missed you more than you could imagine Jungkook.” Her lip quivered. “So much.”

“I know, ma. You always made sure I know. You were always the one person I could count on, even behind bars.” He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers.

The kiss was soft and gentle, but it held a depth of passion that only they could understood. “I love you.”

“I love you more. So much more.” She kissed him back, “I’ll cook for you. I’ll show you to our room— I fixed it up for you!”

She led him upstairs, rushing him due to her excitement. “Are you ready to see it?”

“I'm more than ready, ma. I've been dreaming of this moment for so long. I've missed our bed, our room, all of it."

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "You look stunning, ma. You've never looked more beautiful to me."

Their room looked more homey and relaxing. She bought him a whole new closet full of clothes and shoes to his liking.

“I bought you some new ashtrays to put on your nightstand.” She told him. “There’s some lighters down there too.”

“You're spoiling me. And I’m more than grateful. I can already smell the smoke wafting through the air. You know me more than anyone." He grinned, running his hand over the new clothes.

"I love what you've done here, ma. You really outdid yourself for me and I couldn’t thank you more.” He added, thanking her once more.

“Anyrhing for you. I wanted you to come home and feel comfortable and relaxed.” She smiled.

“Now go shower, change, whatever you need to do to get all that prison time off your skin.” She laughed. “I’m gonna go downstairs and cook you some food that’ll knock you the hell out.”

Jungkook smiled, pulling her into a deep, passionate kiss. "You're the best, ma. I love you so fucking much." He whispered, giving her earlobe a gentle kiss before pulling away. "I'll be down in a few.”

“Take your time baby. Really.” She pecked his cheek, hesitant to leave him while she walked down to the kitchen.

Jungkook grabbed her hand before she could walk away, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss.

"Thank you again baby— Seriously." He gave her a reassuring smile, squeezing her hand gently.

She left him and headed back downstairs, prepping dinner for him.

“I’ll miss you!” She called out from the kitchen, blushing and giggling in excitement.

She couldn’t believe he was really out of prison.

For years she spent everyday fantasizing and day dreaming about him finally living at home again. For him to actually be here was ground breaking.

She had devoted herself to that man the entire time he’d been away. Her friends would try to encourage her to see other men to fill in the gaps of his absence but she absolutely refused.

She had many opportunities. She was a beautiful woman.

But no other man could ever compare to Jungkook.

She started preparing a quick yet savory meal for them to eat while he was showering.

She had prepped wonton soup for the actual night of his arrival but she had enough ingredients to make it for him tonight.

Jungkook was upstairs. He stripped down to his white tank, revealing his well-built, tattooed body.

He smirked at himself in the mirror, satisfied with how much he had grown during his time.

He turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature to his liking before stepping in.

After scrubbing and shaving after what felt like forever, Jungkook hummed to himself as he stepped out the shower, feeling refreshed and anew.

He dried himself up before wrapping the towel around his waist, he stepped into the kitchen where his girl was. “Smells amazing baby, what is it?" He kissed her cheek, leaning on the counter.

“I made a homemade wonton soup with a side of rice.” She smiled, “You look clean. Someone’s already comfy back home.”

Jungkook chuckled, “With everything you’ve done, you made it easy.” He grinned as his stomach growled, looking down at himself.

“Go put some clothes on and dry your hair. You’re gonna get sick. I laid out clothes on the bed.” She instructed. “Use my hairdryer in the bathroom. Should be hung up in the bathroom.”

She took care of him and she tried his best to always pamper him. "Yes ma'am." He smiled, standing up and giving her a soft kiss on the cheek. "I'll be right back, baby."

Jungkook went back to the bathroom and dried his hair then put on the clothes she laid out for him.

He took a look at himself in the mirror and smiled. He had been evaluating their home since he arrived, she had really good taste.

He walked back into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her neck and inhaling her scent once more.


Couldn’t get enough.

“So much better huh baby?” She hummed, lost in his embrace.

“Definitely, baby. You always make me better." Jungkook whispered in her ear before giving her a soft and lingering kiss.

He reached for the food she was cooking, but she stopped him. “No. I’ll serve you. Go sit down.”

“Body” He obliged, not able to help it but steal another kiss before sitting down to eat with her. "This smells amazing, love."

She served him his soup along with a cup of jasmine hot tea.

She placed his bowl and cup on his side of the table. She served herself after him, sitting across from him. “Let me know if you like it. Too hot, too cold, too spicy, too salty. Anything like that.”

Jungkook blew on his soup before taking a spoon full, burning his tongue a little bit but he didn't care.

He was just desperate for a home cooked meal.

"This is so fucking good, Y/n… like really fucking good." He glanced up at her, giving her a little smirk before taking another bite.

“I’m not just saying that either.” He munched, lost in the taste of his food.

She laughed, “Glad you’ like it.” She enjoyed her soup across from him.

Jungkook finished his soup, but didn't finish his whole bowl of rice.

He sat back and took a sip of his tea. "So how was your day today? Besides making me the best fucking soup I've ever had?"

“I just spent today prepping for you to get here. Cleaned all day.” She exhaled.

“Was the rice not cooked right? You didn’t finish.” She looked at him, concerned a bit at his action.

Jungkook shook his head. "The rice is fine, love. It's just not my favorite thing to eat."

He took another sip of his tea and reached under the table, squeezing her knee. "It’s all I ever ate when I was in there— not really my favorite at the moment."

“Oh my gosh!” Her eyes widened, “I wasn’t even thinking!”

“Baby you make rice with every meal. It’s like muscle memory for you.” He chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. You’re too cute to worry.”

“It’s my man’s first night home from prison. Of course your opinion matters to me.” She sighed.

Jungkook smiled at her and looked down at his empty bowl. He reached for her hand and glanced back up at her. "You don't have to care about anything when it comes to me. I’m amazed by everything you do.”

“Mm so sweet.” She blushed, “Go relax.” She seized their bowls, washing them in the sink.

Jungkook laughed, "I just want to make sure you're happy too. Wouldn’t want my baby like that in her own house" He stood, slowly making his way around the kitchen island.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and moved his lips to her neck, giving her a soft kiss. "Smell so good baby. Can’t get away from you.”

She blushed at the close proximity, continuing the dishes.

Jungkook pulled away from her neck, his eyes glancing over her face. He enjoyed seeing her blush more than he thought he did.

"What's going on in your head? You can tell me you know." He leaned against the counter, watching her intently.

“Nothing.” She shrugged. “I’m just happy you’re here. More than happy I’m just— thankful.”

She started getting emotional, blinking back tears. “I just thought— I thought you’d have to stay longer.”

Jungkook walked towards her, his finger pushed her chin up, making her look at him.

"Don't cry on me now, damn baby. Making me feel guilty.” He wipes away a tear that fell down her cheek with his thumb. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.

“Sorry sorry” She apologized, fanning herself.

Jungkook smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead, moving her to clear her teary eyes. "Don't apologize for showing your emotions to me. I love how much you care for me."

“You smell so good too.” She hummed against him. “Better than that nasty fresh out of prison smell.” She laughed.

Jungkook grins, sniffing himself to remind her of the smell she meant, his arms squeezing around her. "If you thought it smelled bad..."

He kisses her cheek, “Imagine when I wasn't this clean for four years.” He teased, laughing.

“Ewww.” She giggled, “I’m okay not thinking about that.”

Jungkook chuckles, pulling back to look at her, cupping her cheek and wiping away loose tears with his thumb. "You're so cute."

He was laughing again. "Y/n, I missed you... I really fucking missed you. I don’t care how many times I told you tonight.”

“I missed you too Jungkook— Writing and calling you definitely isn’t as good as having you here at home with me.” She admitted.

Jungkook smiles, his eyes bright with happiness. "Yeah, I know... I fucking hated the phone. But-" He takes her hand in his.

"Being here now, being able to show up in the morning and see you again and again will make up for it all." He flashes her a wide grin.

“Four years was such a long time.” She groaned, walking out from the kitchen and walking up to their bedroom.

Jungkook nods and follows her, watching her hips sway as his thoughts drift to more primal thoughts.

He felt bad for wanting to get straight to it. But she had been teasing him in those

"It was. But hey-" He says from behind her. He wraps arms around her mid-section. "I'm here now. Should we get to it? Break our bed in together?"

“Oh my gosh you’re so annoying” She smacks his arm, “Go put on a movie while I change. You’re gonna be scrolling for a minute. I’ll be back.”

Jungkook laughs and lets go, jumping onto the bed. He grabbed the remote off the nightstand, surfing through the different streaming services.

He hadn’t seen anything like this in quite some time, but he already knew what he was looking for. She was definitely wrong about him scrolling for a minute.

She changed into a pajama set, being sure to show off a bit by leaving some buttons undone.

She knew what was gonna go down tonight, she just wanted him to wait for it.

She made her way back to the bed, resting her body beside him closely. “What’re we watching?”

“Starting tonight we’re gonna watch every Marvel movie made since I got locked up.”

“Are you serious?” She groaned. “That’s an insane amount of movies.”

“But,” He pouted cutely. “Your baby has been locked up for sooo long.”

“I hate you.”

He wraps arms around her mid-section, resting his head on her waist. "You know you love me, ma... and I sure as fuck love you."

“I love you more” She laughed and pecked his lips, playing with his hair as they watched the first movie together.

Jungkook hums in contentment, closing his eyes and letting her play with his hair.

Throughout the movie, Jungkook couldn’t help but grow more and more desperate.

He was on edge for the past few months. In prison they called and wrote letters but recently her letters had been more

Seductive.

Letters that consisted wordy details of her burning desire and unstoppable urge to have him.

“One more? Please? Last time really.” He pleaded.

“Fine.” She pecked his lips.

A few minutes later.

“Please?”

“Okay.” She pecked his lips.

More minutes go by.

“One more? Last time really.”

“Ugh fine.” She groaned, pecking his lips once more.

“Fuck I can’t take it." He groans as she pecks his lips, unable to help but leaning in and making out with her as their movie plays in the background.

“Don’t know how you expected this to go when you look like this.” He mumbled against her lips, mouth getting messier. “Wanna fuck you so bad.”

“Need to make love to you since you got locked up” Her kisses grew more demanding.

Jungkook flips them over, pinning her down onto the bed and kissing her harder in return. "I needed you to fuckin' kiss me that hard when I was locked up.”

His hips buck up against hers, grinding his hardened cock against her thighs. “Dreamt about this every fuckin’ night.”

“I know baby fuck— me too” She grunted.

Jungkook reaches over to unbutton her pajama pants, before sliding them down her legs slowly— trailing kisses down her thighs as he does. "Take 'em off, baby. I wanna see how fuckin' wet you are for me already."

“Wanted dick since you got locked up— Been wet since you got released.” She couldn’t help the bashful expression all over her.

Yeah?" Jungkook grins, slipping his fingers underneath her panties and teasingly spreading her lower lips, his fingers slipping and teasing over her clit. "And how wet are you actually baby?"

“Fuck” She could cum at the contact alone. “S-So wet.”

Jungkook snickers, slipping a finger deep inside of her and pumping it in and out slowly, moaning at the tight and hot feeling around his fingers. "Fuckin' wet and tight girl hm? Huh baby?"

“F-Feels good daddy” The sensual nickname slipped from her lips, making his ears ring at the sweet sensation of her voice.

Jungkook groans at that nickname, thrusting his finger in and out of her faster now. "Shiiit, baby, you know I love it when you call me that."

He then pulls his fingers out, sucking them clean. “Love the way you taste. Needed that for years.”

“C-Can’t take it” She whimpered at the feeling of his retracting fingers.

Maybe it had been too long for her. By herself it took a good amount of work for her to get off but this was ruining her in seconds.

Jungkook smirks at that, pulling his pants down, his already hard length flopping out. "You’re gonna take it good baby?”

“Daddy please—“

“Is that all you got?" Jungkook taunts, teasing her entrance with his tip. "Beg some more, or you ain't getting this dick."

His dominant and demanding voice was coming back into play, almost better than what she remembered.

“Want it so bad. I’ll take it good, I promise.” Her voice cried, “So desperate.”

Jungkook groans at her begging, slowly pushing inside her. "Mmm fuck— so damn tight, just like that baby.”

“Take Daddy's dick." Him fully entering into her in a slow, but deep pace.

Her chest rose as he slid inside her. She swallowed, adjusting herself to his length.

Jungkook smirks at her reaction, gripping her hips as he begins to thrust in faster, a low moan leaving his lips.

“Missed this wet ass pussy” He stared her down. “You miss that, baby? How Daddy fucks you like this?"

“Y-Yes”

“Fat ol’ ass and huge ass tits— And a pretty face. God, you're so fucking hot." Jungkook grunts, picking up the pace, thrusting harder and faster.

The sound of skin on skin filling the room, making sure to hit that sweet spot. "This what you wanted, huh baby?

“All I-I wanted— all I needed.” She whined out. “Fucking amazing.”

“I thought I was desperate." Jungkook growls, slapping her ass hard. “Such a pretty girl. Didn’t try to play me once.”

The room is filled with even louder wet slaps of his hips against her ass and his smacks. His thrusts becoming more erratic, his cock growing desperate for release.

“All for you, all yours. Been with no one but you.” She moaned, truthfully speaking.

"Good girl." Jungkook leans forward, nipping at her neck before whispering in her ear.

"Say my name, Y/n. Who's dick are you on?" He grips her throat.

“Fuck! Yours Daddy! Yours!” She was a mess on his cock, eyes rolling back.

“That’s my girl. All fucking mine.” He was watching as her body shudders from his touch.

He admired the way she was breaking down in front of him, going dumb on his dick.

The way her body twitched, he knew she was growing closer.

He watched her, clearly enjoying her lack of breath. The way she squirms, his to control and use.

"Gonna cum on daddy’s dick baby? Gonna let go for me?" He's almost there, wanting to finish strong.

“Want your cum— Need it.” She whimpered, eyes growing teary from the overwhelming pleasure. “Please daddy.”

“So fucking hard to say no to you." Jungkook snorts, pounding into her mercilessly. He was seeking his needed high so he could cum right with her.

The couple both reached their orgasms, moaning each other’s names before giving in and cumming together.

“Fuck— so in love with you.” Jungkook grunts, emptily filling her up. He catches his breath, panting with her.

She could hardly get out of the bed because of him, she was limp.

She was shuttering from her orgasm. Her legs were a trembling mess.

He watches her collect herself, loving the sight of her. The way she looks so used and satisfied, only at his hands.

Once she was all together, she got back in bed with him, kissing and chucking with him as the two panted together.

“I still got it.”

“Goddamnit Jungkook.” She hid her face. “Yes- you do.”

[kandyscorner]

You know what super sweet to think about, Jason getting his first cheek kiss by someone he likes🥺 I know I said I'd submit something for Dick or Tim to break up all the Jason Todd on the dash, but ugh can you blame me?? Like maybe it's a first date or a second, and he's nervous, like she can tell even though he's hiding it pretty well. Maybe he does something sweet, hold the door open for her, pull her seat out, give her his jacket, something chivalrous that just comes naturally from being around Alfred for so long, and she thanks him with a sweet kiss to the cheek. I imagine he short circuits completely, couldn't recover in time even if he tried, and believe me, he tried. Red blush, starting from his chest all the way to his ears, eye brows shooting up involuntarily like he didn't know a cheek kiss could exist, and he's just frozen in time. You look at him and giggle, and that sound breaks him out of it, and he's just a fumbling mess the rest of the night, but secretly he's just trying to earn another one of those. Ugh, I love him your honor

@herodedicatedblog

Publishing this request to try and summon @herodedicatedblog. I miss my friends crazy commentary. I got lost in the sauce of this, I think, but I still think it works out pretty good. Flustered Jason is the best! I love him!!

_____

“Trivia? You're taking me to trivia?” Jason gives you a very judgey face and it makes you wrinkle your nose.

“Don't say it like that. I thought long and hard about this.” This being the first time Jason was letting you plan a date.

“So that's where the smell of smoke was from.” Jason retorts. You step slowly into his space, hands behind your back and you grin at him innocently. 

He eyes you but doesn't step away from you, if anything leans just a bit closer. It gives you ample opportunity to flick his cheek.

“Don't be mean to me,” you tell him with a pout. He grabs the hand that flickered him, thumb rubbing over your knuckles. 

“Alright, I'm sorry, okay?” You can see the sincerity in his eyes but you flounder anyway.

“Do you really not like trivia?” You ask quietly, eyes downcast. He tips your chin with his free hand to make you look up at him again.

“I like anything you plan. I didn't mean to rag on you, sweetheart. Just wasn't expecting trivia is all.” 

“It's at the library,” you start, feeling more confident and hoping to explain why you had chosen trivia for the date, “and it's specifically on classic literature.” 

You tug him down the sidewalk where you two halted for your conversation. Your jittering nerves enough to finally answer him after he asked what you had planned for the third time. 

“The library?” He asks, letting you pull him slightly. 

“Yeah, you mentioned how you spent a lot of time at the library when you were younger and how you try to support them as much as possible. I figured we could hit two birds with one stone. A date and support the library by participating in their activities.” You suck in a breath at the end of your words. 

“Anyone ever tell you you're perfect, sweetheart, cause you are.” The compliment has you flustering a little but you find relief when the library comes into view.

You pause to look at it. The buildings in Gotham never ceased to amaze you, the architecture always so detailed. Jason stands beside you as you admire the building and then offers you an elbow.

“I think we have a fun trivia night to get to.” He says and you take his arm letting him lead you this time.

“You called it fun,” you say in almost a tease.

“I never said otherwise,” he lightly chides as you climb the steps. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you roll your eyes and reach for the door but Jason beats you to it and pulls the door open. 

“Thank you, handsome,” you say as you walk through the open door. When you turn to wait for him you find a light red dusting across his cheeks and find yourself pleased with getting him to blush. 

The past three date's you had been on you had felt like a total fool. It's why you asked if you could plan the next one, for some semblance of control when it came to being around Jason. 

You check in for trivia and settle in. A small crowd, mostly families and a few couples and friends. Trivia goes by easily or as easily as being tested on old books could be. 

Jason kept looking at you and smiling. You could tell he was trying to make up for his teasing from before, telling you periodically how he was enjoying this and that it was fun. 

The trivia was set up like March madness. You would go up against one team and whoever won would move onto the next round. 

Jason was good, like really good and so were you. You had lightly studied up on classic literature beforehand. It wasn't to show off but you didn't want to look like a total idiot during the date. As the game went on the questions got harder and more specific.

You were in the second to last round. You just had to beat this one and you would be in the finals. You were actually excited, a quiet adrenaline thrumming through your veins. You had one last question in this round.

“Shakespeare wrote over 150 works in his lifetime. Which of these works ends in the death of the noble Trojan Hector?”

You find your competitors turn to each other in a panic. You don't think about it and don’t listen to the question thoroughly as you turn to Jason, “It's the Iliad, right?”

Jason blinks at you apparently startled, he already has the mark uncapped and pressed to the white board. His face turns into a grimace like he’s about to tell you some bad news.

“Sweetheart,” he says gently and makes you smile at his placating attempts, “that's not Shakespeare.”

“I know,” you nod slowly with pinched brows. He gives you a look and you turn to where they have the question posted, “Oh sorry. I wasn't listening to the first part.” you fluster. He reaches over and gives your hand a squeeze. 

“You would've been right without,” he lets go of your hand and picks the mark back up. You lean over his shoulder to watch his answer.

“I never knew Shakespeare wrote anything about the Trojan War.” you whisper into his ear and you swear Jason shudders. He turns his head to meet your eye once he’s done writing.

“It's not very popular. People find it confusing and the name is deceptive.”

“You're actually pretty positive about this, aren’t you?” you question.

“It's why you brought me.” he says with a cocky grin which makes you laugh because it's something you'd expect from a man winning a sport not classic literature trivia.

“Times up, Ladies and Gentlemen, please show us your answers.”

The other team flips the board first, Timon of Athens. Despite the written answer they still seem entirely unsure of it.

“”While Timon of Athens is a tragedy, it is not the tragedy of Troy. Unfortunately that is incorrect. And our second team?”

You give Jason a reassuring nod and he flips the board. Troilus and Cressida

“It seems we have our first contestants for the final round.” the host rambles on more information that you entirely ignore because you made it to the final round! You and Jason stand to swap out  seats with the next group. You shuffle over to the “Audience” seating and sit down suddenly aware of the tight grip you have on Jason’s hand. He doesn't complain, doesn't say anything. 

It's only once the next round starts that you can't contain your excitement anymore. You shake Jason’s hand and turn in your seat, lean up and press an excited kiss to his cheek, “We won.” you whisper, still vibrating with glee.

As you pull back, Jason turns his head slowly to stare at you. He blinks and stares and blinks again. The apples of his cheeks turn red first. It creeps up to his ears and down his neck disappearing under the collar of his shirt. Your glee shifts from excitement about winning to excitement over how fluster Jason suddenly is.

“What’s wrong, handsome? Need another victory kiss?” you swear he turns redder at your teasing.

“No, that's okay. Is it hot in here?” he mumbles and you laugh, loud enough to earn a glare from the people around you. You couldn't care less about the trivia night anymore, enamored by how Jason blushes. 

You leave Jason alone other than periodically staring at him. His blush settles mostly, though it resides on his cheeks indefinitely. He fidgets in his seat clearly no longer paying attention to the trivia game in front of you. 

You want to kiss him on the cheek again then kiss him on the mouth and sit back and watch that blush grow. You want to do it when his shirt is off so you can press kisses to his reddened neck and hopefully follow it as far down as it goes. Maybe go lower to see if the red would follow.

You blink at the poking at your shoulder, a woman behind you gesturing to the trivia contest. It was time for the final round. Apparently, neither you or Jason were paying attention because you have to tug him out of his seat to get him to come along.

You settle in your seat, markers at the ready. The host explains that there will only be one question this round and that was it. You glance at Jason, cheeks still red and you're not entirely sure he’s even listening which would have bothered you if you even cared about the trivia game anymore.

“The final round, the winner takes it all, all being this small trophy we found on Amazon and this bag of candy.” The host presents the prize and a ripple of laughter moves through the group with a small child yelling out, “there was candy!?”

“Are you ready contestants?” the host asks and you nod only slightly hoping Jason will come back to the moment.

“How often does Mr Darcy call Elizabeth by her first name in Jane Austen's book Pride and Prejudice? Time starts now.”

You gingerly set the marker down. This question was so not meant for you. Jason had teased you about not having read it at least once. It wasn't a requirement at your school. 

You turn in your seat and find him still looking a little dazed and decide you're probably not going to be winning this.

“Jason,” you whisper to him and gain no reaction, “Jason!” You poke at his rib and his eyes snap to you.

“What?” You press your hand to your mouth to keep from laughing.

“I can't answer this question.”

“What question?”

“Jason,” you chide and gesture to the posted question and the time you were running out of fast.

“Oh, shit,” his brows raise in surprise and you stifle another laugh.

“Jason, there's children here.”

“Sorry,” he doesn't sound very sorry, “I don't know the answer.” 

That he does sound sorry about. You give him what you hope is a calm smile.

“That's okay. Take your best guess.” 

“But we're so close, sweetheart.” He insists even though there's nothing he can do.

“I know, handsome but we're out of time,” you gesture back to the clock now in seconds. He hurries with the marker and writes down his answer, once.

“I think it's when he proposed, but there may have been another time.I can't remember.” He leans to whisper to you, cheeks a slightly redder than before.

“And our answers are once and twice. I'm so sorry but the answer is twice!” The little girl on the competing team bounces out of her mom's lap and nearly dives at the host for the candy. 

You finally let out your ill contained laughter, hand grabbing Jason’s and intertwining your fingers. Partially so he won't think you're mad about the loss, mostly because you're about to kiss his cheek again and you're definitely going to make him stay there so you can watch him turn red again.

_____

Masterlist

Make a request!

[wanderingelvis]

I can’t get enough of your writing! I love it so much! 💖

Could you maybe do something where one of the Memphis mafia guys girlfriend or something is mean to little reader when they’re alone, but is nice when others are around. Reader doesn’t say anything because she doesn’t want to get anyone in trouble because she’s so sweet but one day it gets too much and she tells Elvis and he gets protective.

Sorry it’s so long I hope you have a nice day! 🎀💝

eeeeek! i'm back after a lil while away and thank you for requesting

my masterlist of all my elvis writing request an elvis fic here, i'm always lookin' for inspo

wc - 2.9k

warnings - ddlg dynamic, if u don't like that i would advise not reading

You knock softly at Elvis' office door, waiting patiently until Elvis calls you in.

You're Elvis' long term girlfriend and you're just the sweetest little thing. You're so polite and you're as quiet as a mouse, even with Elvis still, you're just naturally very timid.

But Elvis loves you all the more for it. He likes having someone to control, to protect, to use. It's the innocent and timid nature that he adores the most, that he wants to preserve at all costs.

It wasn't too long ago that he'd introduced you to the Little lifestyle, now, you were certainly apprehensive about it, you were just a little bundle of nerves, weren't you? Elvis made sure to take it slowly, but Elvis kept you at Graceland, living under his rules so it was easy for him to help you succumb to the lifestyle when he made the whole environment push you further and further into a smaller headspace.

There were things he put in place that would help you slip.

He would give you warm milk before bed every night.

He bought you toys that would help clear your head and allow you to be Little, such as coloring books, or the most beautiful dolls house that you'd ever seen that you just couldn't resist playing with it as the Memphis Mafia would stand above you and watch as they sipped their beer with Elvis and you played with your toys on the floor.

He instructed anyone that looked after you to treat you as if you were only a little thing, whether it was the cook, one of the Memphis Mafia, their girlfriends or the gardener.

But not everyone had always been that nice to you, including Ramona, Red's girlfriend. She was a relatively new girlfriend, and unbeknownst to you, she was simply dating Red to try to get to Elvis, so she utterly despised you.

She, like all the other girlfriends, had been told about the way in which you were to be treated -- gently and softly, not to treat you like an adult whether you liked it or not.

But she used this to her advantage and would constantly make your life miserable. She'd pinched you, pulled your hair when brushing it, called you all sorts of horrible names, broken a few of your toys and ripped up some of your drawings that you'd made. She didn't try to hide it from you, she knew you wouldn't say anything, she knew you were too timid and shy and that whatever warped lifestyle Elvis had submitted you to, had too much of a hold over you to tell anyone what she was doing.

You were scared of Ramona, and you'd watch from your play area as she'd make Elvis laugh during parties, and you'd chew your lip nervously, realising that you couldn't say anything.

But she was coming over yet again, for a cook-out in the yard with all of the Memphis Mafia and their girlfriends and wives and you could feel the nerves growing in your tummy as you walked into Elvis' office.

Elvis looked up from the paperwork he was working on and offered you a smile, you were just so precious.

"Hey honey, y'okay baby?" Elvis said cooly, getting up from his desk and walking over to you as you stood nervously at the entrance of the office, looking around at his desk, noticing all the work.

"Did I disturb you?" You asked softly, picking at your fingers.

Elvis chuckled softly, "No honey, just finishing up some work s'all. What's on your mind Little One?" Elvis cooed gently, rubbing your shoulders and upper arms.

"Um, um," You say softly and quietly, avoiding the gaze of Elvis. "The party is nearly starting, um..." You say gently, not really being all that sure what you're even trying to say, which Elvis understands.

Elvis nods, he can tell that you're feeling smaller but resisting it. But that's what he's there for, to help you.

"And don't you look pretty huh baby?" Elvis smirks, taking in the pretty pink babydoll dress you have on and the ribbon in your hair that he had laid out for you earlier that the maid, Miriam, had put in for you. You can't help but blush at the comment and begin to chew on your lip. Despite being with Elvis for a couple of years, you're still such a reserved little baby. "How's about you go pick some of them flowers in the garden for the party huh? Y'know the ones you grew with Miriam's help and you were such a good girl, takin' such good care of 'em?" Elvis suggested, referring to your flower bed in the garden.

You'd become such a little green thumb recently, you loved flowers, you thought they were just so pretty, and you loved wildlife and nature. You'd always potter around the garden with the little tools that Elvis had bought you with your little sun hat on, showing Elvis all the pretty flowers you'd carefully planted.

You nod softly. "Flowers..." You repeat softly with a nod, processing the request.

"That sound good, Little One?" Elvis said, gauging your headspace, he can tell you're slipping.

You nod again, quietly listening and responding as the big man that you call Daddy kisses the top of your head. "Good girl, go get some pretty flowers f'me, 'kay?" Elvis said and you nod and set off to the lavish garden to your flower bed.

You love all your flowers so dearly, you're proud of every single one like the good little baby that you are, you make sure you water all of them at the right time, and you giggle softly every time Elvis compliments your hard work when he looks at them with you.

You have lots of flowers and it's a little overwhelming for you to decide which ones might be best to pick, but you're worried that you might pick the wrong ones. You always want to do a good job for your Daddy, he works so hard and he takes such good care of you that you just want to do a good job in return at whatever he asks for you. You absolutely hate the idea of ever being a bother to him.

You chew on your lip nervously as you sit on the grass and look at all your flowers, it's only when a shadow appears above you that you turn around and see Ramona.

You instantly become a little shelf of yourself, quiet as anything and a little fidgety, looking away from her stare and trying to concentrate on your flowers.

"Elvis said you were here pickin' flowers you've grown..." Ramona said, her tone less than friendly which made you feel tense, but you tried as hard as you possibly could to ignore that feeling.

All you can manage is a gentle nod, you're so shy around Ramona, you can't help it, she terrifies you.

"You grew these?" She asked, smoking her cigarette as she stood above you.

All you do is nod yet again but you can't help but think that maybe she likes them, maybe she's impressed and she finally likes something you've done.

"Let me help you pick some then huh?" She says sharply before pulling at all the flowers in the flowerbed, tearing them harshly and breaking their stems, pulling out so many so quickly that you don't know what to do.

"N-No, no, my flowers-" You say, trying to be loud but failing miserably, you just sound so timid and soft and little, but distraught nevertheless.

"Honey, m'just helpin' ya get the weeds out." She laughed, ruining your entire flowerbed before your eyes, the flowerbed you worked so hard on for so long. "Looks much better, dontcha think, Y/N?" She scoffed, trying her cigarette on one of the crushed peonies before walking away.

You can't help but feel tears coming to your eyes, you crawl to the flowerbed, practically getting in it to try and salvage some of the flowers and plants you'd so lovingly grown.

You don't know why she's so mean to you, why she would do this to your pretty flowers, everything from the roses to the tulips completely ruined and muddied.

Tears begin to trickle down your cheeks as you desperately try to fix what Ramona had done, your knees, legs, dress, hands, everything getting muddy and your hands getting cut from thorns as you tearfully try to make all the flowers better but to no avail.

"Oh no? Did the baby fall in her flowerbed huh?" Ramona feigns concern looking at you, getting Reds attention who immediately hollers at Elvis to come outside.

"Baby, hey baby, hey, hey, it's okay..." Red hushes as he reaches you first, crouching down on the grass next to you.

You immediately look to your lap as you sit in the flowerbed, ashamed and embarrassed that you look all tearful and muddy at the big garden party. "Daddy..." You say ever so quietly but enough for Red to hear it.

"Oh honey, Daddy's comin', here is, see? He's coming darlin', easy now, don't want you to get hurt on them thorns anymore baby." Red says gently, as you continue to avoid eye contact.

"What the hell happened?" You can hear your Daddy's voice say to Red as he observes the scene of his little baby girl, surrounded by destroyed flowers and covered in dirt.

"Ramona said she fell in her flowerbed, EP." Red says and you don't dare to correct him, you're far too shy of a baby for that.

Elvis can't really believe what he's seeing, even when you're in a Little headspace, you're never this clumsy - and you're so careful with your flowers all the time, he knows just how much you love them.

"Red, give us some damn space." Elvis muttered, gesturing for Red to return back to the house before Elvis crouched by you. "Baby, what's happened here, princess?" Elvis asked calmly.

"My flowers..." You sniffled, tears falling from your cheeks and hitting your pink dress.

"Did yer take a tumble huh?" Elvis asked gently.

You sniffle but you don't move or say anything and that's instantly a signal to Elvis that something has gone on, but it's clear you're not saying anything now and you're still sat in the flowerbed.

"Okay baby, m'gon getchu outta this flowerbed, 'kay? Just let Daddy take control 'kay? Don't want you makin' no sudden movements or nothin' and getting scratched again baby." Elvis said calmly, before grabbing you from under your arms and easily lifting you out of the flower bed and onto his hip.

You've always been smaller than him, easily pliable and manhandled. You continue to cry weepily, instantly resting your head on his shoulder and cuddling into him closely.

"There we go, that's it baby, s'okay, Daddy's gotchu." Elvis soothed, rocking you in his arms and hushing you. "Let's go put you in the tub and get y'all clean again baby, how's about that?" Elvis said softly kissing your forehead before taking you inside.

The pair of you walk past everyone and you instantly bury your face in Elvis' shoulder, determined not to be seen by anybody and Elvis can't help but find it just damn adorable. But you particularly don't want to see Ramona, you're too shy and too embarrassed to face anyone but your Daddy and even that's a challenge.

Elvis praises every small thing you do once you both reach the master bathroom alone, from letting him take off your dress, to accepting the pacifier that Elvis offered you to help you calm down and soothe you whilst you were in the tub.

"Good girl, you look so sweet with that pacifier, ain't that right honey?" Elvis chuckled, wiping the dirt away from your naked body as he lets you soak in all the bubbles. "Y'know y'being such a good little girl for Daddy huh? Lettin' Daddy wash you and clean you up."

"I messed my dress Daddy." You say softly around your pacifier, feeling bad for ruining the pretty pink dress had arranged for you to wear today.

Elvis clicked his tongue, tsking at you. "Uh-uh baby, it's just a dress sweetheart. Y'not in trouble baby." Elvis assures you, knowing there's something you're not telling him, he can read you like a book, he knows every cue, every emotion every expression of yours.

Once you were all clean, Elvis took you out of the tub and dried you, being careful not to be too harsh on the little cuts and scrapes you had acquired. He let you snuggle in the big kingsize bed that the two of you shared in your fluffy baby dressing gown as he picked out some clothes for you to wear for the rest of the day, settling on a soft cotton cream long sleeve top, a pretty pink tulle skirt and white tights.

You were just the softest and sweetest little baby he could ever dream for. Always so polite, kind and gentle.

"Ready to go back to our guests pretty girl?" Elvis asked gently, gauging your reaction.

"Please, um, please, um," You stumbled on your words, still feeling overwhelmed and nervous, but Elvis never rushes you - never. He always lets you take your time when you're overwhelmed, he knows you'll get there, you just take a little longer than most people. "Please, um, wanna, um, stay with you only Daddy." You said gently. "If that's okay..." You say quietly.

Elvis' expression softens at your vulnerable requests. "Oh darlin', you ain't gon' leave my side, baby." Elvis says gently, picking you up again to take you downstairs.

You're well into your smaller headspace now, and you instinctively pop your fingers into your mouth to chew on anxiously as you rested your head on Elvis' shoulder.

You stayed nestled by Elvis' side throughout the rest of the day, barely speaking, avoiding looking at anyone and becoming noticeably clingier than usual, something Elvis took note of.

Once everyone had finally departed, you were exhausted, you just wanted to sleep and Elvis knew you should've had a nap, you're too little to be up at this time, but he was too concerned about what had happened earlier, it was too out of character.

"Someone's sleepy, huh?" Elvis softly said, stroking your hair as you nestled into his side, your face resting on his chest.

You nodded sweetly, blinking heavily as the weariness took you over, which Elvis knew was his cue to push your limits and take advantage of your sleepy state.

"Baby, you gotta tell me somethin' before you start havin' your sweet dreams, huh Little One?" Elvis said gently, tracing circles into your shoulder as he wrapped his arm around you.

All you could manage was a soft hum. "Okay, I need'ta know what happened with all your lil flowers, baby girl. Daddy knows you ain't that clumsy Dolly, you're such a careful little girl, I know somethin' else happened, and when you tell me, you know you gotta be honest, you know Daddy ain't gon' tolerate any lyin'." Elvis said sternly and you wearily pushed yourself up from resting on your Daddy's body to sit up straight on the couch.

You began to chew on your lip again, puffing it up and rubbed your eyes.

"I'll get in trouble Daddy..." You said softly, looking down at your lap.

Elvis frowned, concerned at what you'd just said. He couldn't imagine a scenario where you'd be in trouble, you're too obedient for that.

"You ain't gettin' in no trouble baby, as long as y'tell Daddy the truth."

There's a long pause, Elvis letting the thick tension add pressure to you before you weakly say, "It's Ramona."

"Ramona? Red's Ramona?" Elvis said with confusion in his tone.

All you do is nod, leading Elvis to probe further. "What about Ramona, huh kid?" Elvis says tenderly.

"She, she, um, she-" You falter but Elvis just listens intently. "She ruined all the flowers, she ripped them Daddy and hurt them... she hurts me Daddy." You confessed, your nerves sky high, your eyes trained firmly on your lap.

Elvis immediately feels anger boil up inside of him. You're the most honest little girl he's ever known, he knows that you wouldn't lie - you can't lie in fact. To hear that someone has been hurting you, well, that just sets something off inside the big, bad man.

You end up telling your Daddy everything as he cradles you like his little baby, reassuring you that you're being such a good little girl for telling him. Reassuring you that Ramona ain't ever going to be near you ever again. Reassuring you that your beloved flowerbed is going to be alright.

"Darlin', you been such a good girl, tellin' Daddy what's been goin' on. You know that baby?" Elvis says, holding your chin so he can look at you and you nod softly. "You gon' tell Daddy if anyone ever hurts my little girl ever again, straight away, y'hear me baby?" Elvis says firmly and you nod, swallowing the lump in your throat.

"Good." Elvis said before kissing your forehead. "Let's get this sleepy baby to her bed, hm? Gon' get your pacifier and your teddy and get y'all soft and sleepy ain't we?" Elvis hushed.

You nodded gently, still just as timid as the day you both first met and Elvis carried you upstairs to your bedroom but you fell asleep in his arms before you even got tucked in by your Daddy, all your worries gone, all thanks to Elvis, who swore to never let anyone touch you ever again.

[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

That's the Job

Masterlist

Pairing: Bob Floyd x (f) reader.

Tags: friends to lovers, fluff, smut, angst, betrayal, emotions, anxiety, heartbreak, workplace romance, coworkers to lovers, confessions, oral(f receiving), fingering.

Snippet:

You choked on the next words, eyes blurry now. "I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t know it’d hit me like that."

He took another step. "So you left?"

"Wouldn't you? I mean—wouldn’t anyone?"

"And you lied." his voice took a tone of hurt.

☆☆☆☆☆

A week has passed since the nightmarish incident. That day, all staff at Top Gun were informed, as is protocol, of the crash that resulted from a sudden birdstrike during field training, nearly taking the lives of two pilots. Both of whom had been close friends of yours.

Thankfully, both Natasha and Bob survived. Although, they and Coyote were rushed to the hospital for urgent care and testing.

But part of your job description as a rookie R&D Analyst was to assess post-mortems, and when you got your eyes on the images of jet – completely destroyed and burned, your mind flooded with awful hypothetical images.

They were lucky – you realized. Because one minute longer, one detail off, and they could have been gone. He could have been gone. For good.

Images flashed in your mind. Blood and lifeless brown eyes...

Your chest hurt.

Before anyone in the office could notice, you turned away from your computer screen – leaving the images of the destroyed jet on display – and strode out of the room.

☆☆☆☆☆

Engineers — even brilliant ones — didn't go into a job expecting to confront the potential violent death of the people they worked with. It’s not part of their emotional framework. So as a young adult that was new to the field, watching Bob and Phoenix nearly die did something to your brain. Making it scramble for control. And the easiest way it could think to do that was Distance. Detachment. You never wanted to feel that way again.

Prior to the crash, you had been assigned a project; a request to improve the laser nav systems, submitted by Lt. Robert Floyd. You and the WSO had gotten along extremely well, right off the bat. He didn't discard your ideas like many members of your own team did, and you were extremely impressed by his expertise as a Weapons Systems Officer and overall badass.

And he was kind. He often came across as technical and serious, but you found yourself inspired by his dedication to his job.

He was also... distracting.

When you two worked together when you just couldn't help a glance over at him. Your eyes tended to linger.

On his lips pressing together when he would concentrate. On the movement of his arms – muscular under his uniform, muscular from days of training out in the sun as he disassembled and assembled the machine you were working on. On the gentle hums he would make when you had suggested an idea and the way he would listen with the most intense gaze, afraid to miss a detail. On the way, his hair was a curly blonde mess falling into his forehead after a long day of training – the only time he could come and assist you with the project.

And what's worse? He was brilliant! He knew his stuff almost too well. Every observation, every test, and every note was detailed to near obsession.

You pointed it out once.

It had been when he had disassembled the laser chamber, displaying each piece on the desk and labeling them to perfect accuracy.

"I didn't know pilots knew so much about the cogs and gears of the weapons systems." You had murmured, not thinking much of it.

"I'm a Weapons Systems Officer." He leveled you with a smirk.

Your face must have gone red, because his smirk widened into a laugh.

He offered you his hand as if to introduce himself. "Hi I'm Bob. It’s my job to use the systems in combat. If it fails, I take the hit."

"Sorry! I didn't mean it like that."

He shook his head, laughing. "Don't apologize, I get that a lot. Just know I’m not just here to press buttons and look good in a uniform.” He winked, a rare gesture from him, and it was enough to ease a smile out of you.

Alright, so he was smart, beautiful, snarky, and also a badass. Great.

You always looked forward to interacting with the aviators, but it was different with him. It made you giddy. And you often had to remind yourself to be professional.

Annoyingly, thoughts of him would often cut into your personal life. At the gym, you motivated yourself with memories of him doing push-ups with his fellow flyers on the concrete. Sweaty and tired but still determined, and God damned resilient. With your friends, you'd re-told some of you work stories, which mostly involved him. And when you were by yourself...

That aside, you two had even made great progress on your project to improve the laser systems. In fact, the day of the bird strike, Bob was testing out a new fix you two had come up with.

Now, it had been destroyed along with the rest of the plane. And what's worse, you were pretty sure what you did next was going to hurt him even more

Because that evening, after you dried your tears in the bathroom and got your breathing under control, you requested to be reassigned from working with Bob on the project.

☆☆☆☆☆

You went through the next few days on autopilot, burying yourself in your work. Your new projects were dull, but dull meant safe. Your coworkers helped. They joked, they complained, they distracted you. They left at reasonable hours.

The aviators were all back at the academy, too busy pushing their bodies past the edge of human capability. Their breaks were short, their evenings longer. You barely passed them in the halls, and you were grateful for it.

Occasionally, the uncomfortable conversation you'd had with Bob would replay in your head.

On the day he was discharged from the Military Hospital, it was 18:05 when Bob strode through the metal doors of the hangar. Boots, cargo pants, white shirt — the usual. He carried his tablet under one arm, his dog tags tapping softly against his chest.

“We lost the prototype with the last jet, so we’re back to square one,” he said as he walked up to your table. "We gotta move fast to catch up—"

He paused.

You were perched on the edge of the desk, your work bag at your side. Not unusual in itself — end of the day and all — but you weren’t unpacking, rearranging, or reviewing notes. You were just sitting there. Like you were done.

His expression shifted. "Are you going somewhere?"

You stood, shouldering your bag. Just say it, you told yourself. Be professional. Clean cut.

"Lieutenant," you said, voice steady, "it’s been an honor working with you. But I’m stepping away from the project."

He blinked. "...Can I ask why?"

You hesitated. He was waiting — not with anger or even with disappointment, just that open Bob-ness that made it worse somehow. So trusting.

"I’m just not interested in the project anymore," you said quickly, like ripping off a band-aid.

There was a beat of silence.

"That’s… sudden," he said slowly.

You looked away.

Then, he spoke up softly. "Was it something I did?"

Your stomach twisted. "No," you answered too fast. "Not at all. It’s not you."

"I thought we worked well together," he said, softer now. "Didn’t we?"

"We did." You adjusted the strap on your shoulder. "This isn’t personal. I just… want to try something else."

He nodded, but not like someone who believed you. More like someone who was trying really hard not to push.

"Well," he said, clearing his throat and standing straighter. "Good luck with whatever’s next."

You nodded and offered a tight smile. "You too."

You'd jerk back and shake your head as if trying to force the thought away willingly.

☆☆☆☆☆

You’d stayed late in your cubicle, distracted by some calibration notes. You barely registered the footsteps in the hallway until a shadow fell over your desk.

"Hey."

You looked up.

He stood in the doorway, uniform loose on his frame, dark bags under his eyes, stubble on his chin, his dog tags still. 

Iceman's funeral was mere days ago. It had really hit the aviator's morale. The death of a legend. Someone who'd been a mentor to them.

One hand clutched the strap of his bag like it was the only thing grounding him.

"I’m flying out tomorrow," he said.

You blinked. " …you were picked."

An unsettling feeling began to grow in your stomach. Either anxiety. Or fear for his safety. You weren't sure at the moment.

"Phoenix and I." He nodded. "With Mav."

"Congratulations." Your throat closed. You set your pen down, bracing your hands on the desk to stop their tremble. "Who else?"

"Rooster. Payback. Fanboy."

You nodded slowly.

Then, your voice caught as you said. "Be careful."

He didn't react. Almost as if deliberately. At first, it looked like he was ready to leave, but then his gaze was back on you.

"You know," He took a small step forward. "I asked Phoenix and Hangman about you."

You raised your brow, unsure where he was going with that.

He took another step, coming closer. "Figured maybe you needed space. But… turns out they haven’t heard from you either. None of us have."

You backed up just a little until the edge of the desk pressed into your hip. "You were all busy."

"Oh, we’d have made time." He paused — not hurt, just searching. The rest of his sentence was implied in his furrowed brow. And you know it.

It was true. Being one of the youngest recruits, you were closer in age with the mission candidates and have grown quite close with all of them through your work. And you've been avoiding them like the plague in hopes you wouldn't have to see any of them possibly die...

"See…" Bob cleared his throat. "I was going crazy, trying to figure out what I did wrong. Thought maybe I’d said something. Maybe come off too strong."

You didn’t allow yourself to speak. How could you explain leaving them in a way that didn't make you sound childish?

"I saw you nearly die and it fucked me up. But since you do this for a living and something... worse could happen, I'm scared of what it would do to me, so the less we interact the better."

Yeah, good luck with that.

His voice softened. "And then I realized. It was that day. Wasn’t it?"

You inhaled sharply, eyes stinging.

He stepped closer. Not enough to crowd you, but enough to make you feel him. "The crash."

You looked down. "You nearly died, Bob."

"But we didn’t."

"But you still could have!" Your voice cracked. "And what if you... don't walk away next time?"

His tone lowered, serious. "That’s the job."

"Well, I don’t do what you do!" You sniffled. "I haven’t had friends die mid-air or disappear off the radar. I'm not used to this. I'm not wired for it. And hearing you drop like that—seeing what was left of the plane... if you were still inside—"

You choked on the next words, eyes blurry now. "I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t know it’d hit me like that."

He took another step. "So you left?"

"Wouldn't you? I mean—wouldn’t anyone?"

You found yourself wondering this to no end for the past says.

"And you lied." his voice was hurt now.

You flinched.

But he didn't fill the silence, waiting for you to speak.

"I didn’t want to tell you because…" you swallowed. "Because if I said it out loud, it’d mean I couldn’t handle it. That I’m not strong enough for this. For any of this.”

That I don't belong here. At the job I've dreamed of since I first picked up a physics textbook back in elementary school.

Silence. A breathless, raw silence that pulsed between you like static.

Deep, beautiful brown eyes searched your face. He was so close bow. "You think I don’t get scared too?"

You swallowed hard. 

His hand brushed your cheek. Barely there. And still, you felt it like lightning.

He leaned in — close enough you could see the pale gold of his lashes that brushed his cheeks.

Then he stopped. Right there. Inches away. His breath uneven.

"I want to," he whispered.

Your breath caught. You looked up at him, eyes glossy. For a second, he leaned in — the moment hanging in the air like a held breath.

Your eyes held his, steady now.

The words were on the tip of your tongue.

If you're going to kiss me... you'd better come back.

He hesitated, then stepped back. A full, aching step. "This isn't right."

Your chest squeezed. He was walking away and taking his warmth with him and what if he wasn't coming back.

Timidly, your hands moved from their place behind you and grasped as his uniform, and you brought your lips to his.

He gasped. The soft intake of hair brushing your lips. Then his arms wrapped around your waste and tightened, pulling you into himself.

He deepened the kiss. Lips possessive over yours, brushing in a slow but powerful movement that barely gave you a chance to take a breath as he took a step forward. Your back was against your desk.

Capable hands brushed over your body, as if memorizing it.

You wondered if he was thinking the same thing you were. What if this was the first and last time?

Sometimes, his timid demeanors made it easy to forget he was an battle-hardened soldier, a fact that was very evident now by the way he lifted you up with ease and held you like you weighed nothing.

He groaned against your mouth, his glasses brushing your nose.

"Its not fair to do this." His tone was quiet but hard.

With a sinking feeling, you nodded, agreeing. But as your harms began to lower from around his neck, he began to kiss down your throat, not as keen on stopping as you thought he was. Each brush of his lips or his tongue on your sensitive neck sent you gasping arching into him.

Thank god you'd stayed late and most people had gone home for the day.

Your fingers curled into his dirty blonde locks, also attempting to memorize the feel of him.

"M-maybe we should stop?" You stammered.

"Yeah," he nodded, though his fingers were undoing the buttons of your long-sleeved shirt, pulling it out of your skirt. "After, we'll stop."

You couldn't help but giggle, then shudder against the cold air hitting your skin all at once. He gently pushed you to lay down with your back to the desk.

Most of your shirt was still mostly on, only open at the front. His movement was slow and deliberate, lowering your bra straps and cups like he was disassembling a machine. Then he took your breasts in his hands and rolled his thumbs over your nipples.

Your breath caught as pleasure shot through your beasts and you moaned before your could stop yourself. He lowered his mouth on yours to remind you to be quiet.

You felt one of his hands travel down from your breast to the hem of your skirt, fingers brushing the inside of your thigh, making you shake. He pulled your panties aside and slid his finger into your heat.

"Oh fuck," he was struggling to keep quiet too.

You could feel how slick you were, how easily he could slide his digit in and around your pussy, spreading your slick around and over your clit.

You looked up at him, as your chest still rose and fell with his stimulation of your left nipple. Bob had his lower lip between his teeth, eyes scanning your face and body, committing them to memory.

Then he lowered to his knees. Your hand flew to cover your mouth as you felt his tongue join his fingers.

"Nhn!"

You were getting very close.

His mouth began to move your your folds. Kissing you, licking, sucking your clit. He added another finger inside you, curving and making you buck your hips.

Your hands grasped the edge of your desk. Everything he was doing was sending waves of pleasure through your body. Palm still over your mouth, you bit your finger to stop the moans slipping out.

Then, as if he sensed you were there, he sped up his mouth and fingers.

Oh god.

You couldn't stop panting loudly as you reached your orgasm. Hips shuddering and bucking against him, you fingers grasped hus hair, needing him closer.

His mouth was on you throughout. Still leaving slow, gentle kisses on your poor, sensitive cunt as you came down from the high.

Standing up, he cupped the nape of your neck and brought you up to taste yourself on his lips.

He kissed you for a long time. You don't know how long.

"I had to." He said against your mouth. "I had to know what you tasted like."

The words made your breath catch. "Promise me you'll come back," your voice broke.

He hid his face in the crook of your neck. "I can’t promise that," his voice barely audible in your ear.

You nodded, even though it cracked something in you.

Bob lingered in the doorway. Just before he turned, he looked back over his shoulder.

"Oh — by the way… the laser nav works perfectly." A faint smile. "We fixed it."

And then he was gone.

☆☆☆☆☆

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 9

(Submitted fan-art of Jade in the monster AU. All credit goes to artist who requested to remain anonymous)

Warnings; yandere, platonic and romantic yanderes, multiple yandere characters, my monster AU, tears, hurt/comfort, blood, injury, furious yanderes, forgiveness, Unicorn, Kelpie, Faun, Selkie, Bakeneko, Dragon, Cervitaur, Vampire Bat, Raiju, Gnoll, Crow,

~~~~~~~~

One of the first things you noticed as you slowly came back to yourself was that it was fairly bright where you lay, shadows occasionally flicking over your vision before the light returned. The next thing that came to your attention was the soft sound of crying. No, soft was not the right word. This was sobbing, heavy and heartbroken.

"Please, don't say she's dead. Please. I'll do anything. Please!"

You recognized the voice somewhat, not overly familiar as to be able to place it upon first waking, but you did know it was a voice you have heard before. Another voice tried to speak, but you couldn't hear it over the sobbing and almost nonsensical apologies mixed with pleads. Somewhere in your mind you recognized that you had to fully wake at some point, but your limbs felt heavy and almost immoveable.

"I'll do anything... Just, please... Please bring her back..."

As your eyes slowly slid opened, you were looking up at a familiar face stained with countless tears. He didn't look the way he usually did, the corners of his mouth still red and raw with the way they had been torn to accommodate the fangs he previously had. His golden crown had been knocked off of his head and his golden horn had a dark black spider-web crack near the tip.

"Riddle, she was already wounded before she got hit with a direct blast of magic. Humans don't have magic and their bodies can't take that kind of strain-"

"I won't be the one to kill the last Human! I can't be... I can't be the one to have killed her..."

Your dominant hand slowly lifted, reaching up to that tear streaked face and resting against his puffy cheeks. The brush of your hand on his face made his eyes fly open with shock as he stared down at you.

"Riddle," your throat felt scratchy and dry, "why are you crying?"

His tears began anew but this time in a mixture of relief and joy as he held your hand to his chest. Your head turned slowly to look around you and you realized you were laying in the Heartslabuyl garden. It looked like very little time had passed since that last magical attack had hit the stunned and overblotted Riddle.

"You're okay! I'm so sorry, (Y/n), I should have been the only one to never hurt you, but instead I overblotted and almost killed you.... Your arm, it... Don't move, okay? Just stay still..."

You vaguely registered what he was talking about as your head slowly turned towards your arm. The axe no longer dug into it but you were very clearly still wounded as Trey kneeled next to you, using magic to staunch the bleeding. It was surprising to you to see the Kelpie, his side equally wounded but somewhat wrapped with what you could only assume was kelp. A faint green tint to the usually white fur was certainly a curious concept as you had honestly assumed he was just a white horse called a Kelpie.

The three of you were on the ground and certainly looked like you had been through Hell and back. While you contemplated what had happened you noticed the sound of footsteps running towards you. You didn't have much time to wonder who was running before a familiar face entered your sight, his blue hair ruffled and light blue eyes wide with stress as he was looking over his shoulder.

"They're over here! Hurry! She's really hurt!"

Deuce was stressed as he waved over those you assumed were there to help you, the sheer worry in the Faun's tone almost made you worry. You were actually feeling quite alright despite the injury and you vaguely wondered if it had anything to do with the magic Trey was using.

"Professor Divus, quickly! I can only use 'Paint the Roses' to keep the pain at bay for a little bit longer before I run out of magic."

The familiar and extremely concerned face of Professor Divus came into view as Deuce moved away to give him space to work. He easily took over with his magic and gave Trey a moment to rest after the battle. Even as Divus kneeled quickly at your side Riddle refused to let go of your hand.

"My poor pup..."

Divus cooed at you gently as he summoned several tinctures and tonics, setting them up quickly by your side. Trey's magic faded away as the Kelpie held his side, now turning his attention to his own wounds and trying to treat them. Without the soothing impact of Trey's magic, you began to feel the full brunt of the pain in your arm. It was agony.

Pain shot up and down your arm as if it had been cleaved in two and you couldn't bring yourself to actually assess the damage given it had been deeply injured by the large Axe. As tears began to form in your eyes, Riddle only seemed to become more distressed. He quickly tried to soothe you, petting your face and arm as if that would stop the pain you felt burning inside of you. More tears formed and Riddle only seemed to become more distressed as he tried to keep you calm despite what had happened.

"Where's Grim? Where's- Where's my boy? Where is My Grim?"

Your voice hitched and whimpered as your emotions began to run wild, trying to look around to find your faithful companion. The longer it took to find him, the more you struggled to move and even tried to stand so you could locate the soft creature.

"He's right here, Human, it's okay. Your Grim is right here."

You almost felt like you had been drugged as you saw your soft companion seemed to be floating over to you. He was clearly wriggling in whatever held him up, reaching out his little paws to you and even trying to flap his little ruined wings to get to your side faster. As Grim was set down next to you, he scampered directly to your side and cuddled against your body. The little critter held your arm with his paws and mewled as he pressed his little body against you as if trying to let you know he was still there and he seemed to be crying.

"Don't die. Please don't die... I have no one else who cares... I- I don't have anywhere else..!"

You tried to move your hand to pet the little creatures, but found yourself unable to pull away from Riddle. The Unicorn in question refused to let go of your hand, still pressing it against his face and muttering apologies.

"You're still terrible at making friends, Riddle."

An almost amused voice spoke now and the space where Grim had been floating seemed to ripple and form as a cat-boy dressed in all white appeared. He had pink hair with faint teal stripes throughout, golden eyes, and two cat ears atop his head. Lazily waving behind him was a tail that split two-thirds of the way down into two separate ends. You had no idea who this was.

"Leave me alone, Che'nya..."

"That's no way to greet an old friend who just saw you turn Feral and who saved your precious 'King of Hearts' from your magical temper-tantrum. You almost singed my uniform."

"What?"

"What, did you honestly think she would have survived a blast like that? That was enough magic to crack your horn."

Divus didn't seem to take note or notice the conversation between the newcomer and Riddle as he moved to try and lift your body to sit up. The newcomer was quick to move behind you, helping the Selkie sit you up and lean you against the stranger's chest. The sound of a bottle being uncorked drew your gaze to Divus as he held the potion to your lips, letting you drink it down at your own pace instead of forcing you to drink it. The moment the first bit of the potion settled in your stomach, you began to feel significantly less pain from your arm.

"Aww, aren't you just adorable? I did want to stop by and meet you when I saw Cater's selfie with you on Magicam, but I didn't think all this would happen when I did. I know we Bakeneko are often considered to be bad luck, but this is just ridiculous."

His smile curved up at the corners making a cheshire grin that reminded you quite a lot of cats from your world and even of Grim who had now moved himself to your stomach. The little cat lay with his chin on your stomach and his torn little ears drooping as he watched you with those big blue eyes. It felt wrong to see him so sad when he had been a fairly positive influence on your life and always seemed to make you smile when you got too deep into thought. Still, between the two cats- the one on your stomach and the one behind you- you began to feel a little more at peace despite the situation.

"The name's Che'nya. I'm a Bakeneko, and you are a Human~ didn't think I would be saving your life today, but I will happily take a plate of Trey's strawberry tarts as a thank you gift."

"You're welcome to them, Che'nya. You know, you don't have to show up to our unbirthday parties just to get some of the tarts, right?"

"Yeah, well, you Night Raven boys don't really like us Sword Academy types. Wow, Riddle really almost chopped you in half, Trey."

"It isn't that bad or that deep..."

As Trey talked to Che'nya, Divus had gotten started on your arm, which you could now see thanks to being propped up against the grinning cat-man. The axe had done serious damage and you vaguely worried what would happen to the limb, but to your surprise it almost looked like it was slowly stitching itself back together with every tonic added to it. Part of you was morbidly fascinated by the injury, but another part of you didn't really want to look given the grisly appearance.

It was while you were observing your arm that dark clouds began to form overhead, rolling and growling with the low sound of thunder. The sound made everyone look up and Divus cast a nervous glance towards Riddle. Riddle just continued to mumble and hold your hand, almost as if here were in some kind of trance.

"Th-thunder? Why here? Why now?"

Grim mewled, curling up tighter on your stomach and even moving to try and slide under your uniform jacket to shield from the approaching storm. In your desire to comfort him, you actually managed to remove your hand from Riddle's grasp. In response, the Unicorn let out a stressed noise and tried to catch your hand once more so he could keep holding it for his own comfort.

"Who dares harm my hoard?"

The voice was a low rumble of menace and rage and it seemed to carry over the entire dorm as students- who had been trying to clean up the now destroyed garden- all began to cower. Some even fled to the interior of the dorm.

"I think that's my cue to leave. Sorry, Human, I'm not keen to be toasted by a Dragon today. Remember you owe me tarts for saving you."

The cat-man behind you quickly faded out of view, the support of his chest also leaving from behind you. Divus was quick to take the place of the Che'nya, letting you lean on his broad chest as he subconsciously moved part of his fur over you, shielding your wound from the wind which had begun to pick up. Shadows blotted out the sun and green lightning began to arch from cloud to cloud.

"The perpetrator will pay dearly for this sleight."

You somewhat recognized the voice, though it was dipped in more venom and rage than you had heard before. From the entrance to the garden walked a furious Malleus Draconia, flanked on either side by his faithful guards. Lilia was perched on Silver's back and seemed to be searching for something as he glanced around the ruined garden. His wings spread, taking one mighty gust to lift him up into the air as he coasted on leathery wings to where you lay.

"(Y/n)," the Bat called as he landed, moving past Riddle and almost shoving the distraught Unicorn to the side as he took his place next to your uninjured arm, "we were just about to come look for you when your collar sent out a distress call."

You hummed, vaguely thinking about the loose collar- affixed to you by that damned Crow- that sat around your neck, wondering who else it contacted. Lilia glanced over your body and frowned deeply when he noticed your mangled arm, Divus still attempting to shield it from the debris being thrown around from the wind.

"Malleus, calm. You can be as angry as you wish, but your temper is causing more harm to (Y/n). We can't treat her wounds if you insist on creating a storm."

Malleus, Sebek, and Silver were quick to join you, almost completely disregarding the equally injured Kelpie and the upset Unicorn that caused all this fuss. The wind calmed significantly, but the thunder overhead was just as loud and almost seemed to be happening more frequently. Malleus' eyes smouldered with rage, but softened to concern as he took in your current state and your wounded arm.

"Crewel, what is your assessment?"

"It's badly damaged. I do think we can fix it with consistent care, but it will have to be wrapped and carefully monitored. We should consider ourselves lucky he did not sever the limb."

"Tell me who did this and I will see that his punishment is swift."

You spoke now, still resting a hand over Grim who had successfully made it under your uniform jacket.

"Not now... Malleus... please?"

"No. Even if you ask, I cannot forgive such an act so easily. The blot levels in the air are nothing short of someone going Feral and they need to be dealt with accordingly."

Even as you tried to argue, Malleus was not keen to listen. Lilia moved you so Divus could return to his work on your arm, letting you instead lay against the smaller Bat who wrapped a wing around your uninjured side in a kind of hug. Were it not for the odd headspace you were in thanks to Divus' potion, you would have laughed at the way you were moved from person to person in such a short time.

It was odd to you to not feel any pain seeing as your arm was still quite injured, but that must have been the whole purpose of the potion. Leave it to the Selkie to master a pain-relieving potion he would only use on the Human he considered to be his pup. The Selkie in question finished wrapping your arm, taking a moment to check over you one more time before moving onto Trey.

"I'm the one who hurt her."

The almost sorrowful voice of Riddle spoke now. His eyes were red from crying and he looked near despondent as he hung his head in shame, refusing to move from where Lilia had shoved him. It vaguely interested you to know the little Bat was much stronger than he looked, but you vaguely recalled shoving the Unicorn to the ground as well though those memories were more than a little hazy as to the how and why of the matter.

"I'm the one who hurt Trey. I'm the one who overblotted and went Feral. All of this is my fault... and I accept whatever punishment you deem fit, Malleus."

"You- the Unicorn that was so enamored with my Human he demanded she be taken from my care- did all of this?"

Malleus made a wide gesture to the ruined garden, his eyes glinting poisonously at the clearly grief stricken Unicorn. Riddle just let his head fall lower, the tears resuming their path down his flushed cheeks. He felt like he deserved whatever painful retribution Malleus decided on and he would accept it one hundred times over to repent for his abominable actions.

"Malleus, please-"

You tried again, cutting off with a slight wince as the vague sensation of pain stopped you from sitting up. Though that potion did away with much of the agony you felt, there was still a lingering pain in your body any time you tried to move it.

"No, (Y/n), I deserve this and worse for what I've done to you, to Trey, and even to Grim. I cannot be forgiven for such a crime. I deserve to be beheaded."

"Well I don't want you to be beheaded."

"Please-"

"No. You're damn right you fucked up. You thought you were the best choice and that you knew what was best for me even though I am the only one who could possibly know what is best for me. You messed up. But no one is dead, right?"

The Unicorn refused to meet your gaze, the potion doing more than just removing your pain as it also seemed to remove your filter.

"... No one died, but I almost killed everyone and even Grim. If you hadn't stopped me, I would have-"

"Wait," Sebek spoke now, his voice thick with confusion, "(Y/n) stopped you? How did she possibly do that?"

"I don't know how she did it," Riddle shook his head, "but she threw me back onto the ground and blocked my axe with her own arm. I didn't even see it was her until I was getting back up and saw what I had done."

During this, Malleus was carefully inspecting your injured arm. He turned it gently and you even saw his forked tongue flash out from time to time past his lips, gathering the scent of the bandages and wound. The storm somewhat quieted as he explored your injury, humming a soft lilt that was oddly soothing despite coming from the large reptilian man.

"I warned all of you that first day just what Humans in extreme distress are capable of. You threatened the life of someone she considers to be her family, she retaliated. You're actually lucky she was injured and didn't turn that axe on you. I have seen the kind of strength a distressed Human posseses when defending family. I have seen a dead woman walking who refused to go down because her family needed her. I have seen Human men missing limbs still slaughter their betters to give their family a chance at living. Humans are weak, but never underestimate the sheer strength of will a Human has to defend their family."

Lilia hummed, resting his chin on your shoulder as he spoke. As Malleus placed your arm over your stomach, Lilia's other wing wrapped around you to fully embrace you in the warmth. Grim crawled out of your jacket, purring as he gently bumped his head against your chin.

"My Hooman is my family too. I don't want anyone hurting her again."

"Nor do we. It is not a good thing she had to use such strength, it can be harmful to exert that much force on muscles not made to perform such acts."

You were much more comfortable in the warm wings of the Bat but you were still worried for Riddle because of Malleus' threatening aura. The Dragon was actually much calmer now though he was still furious someone dare to harm a member of his hoard. As a Dragon, it is his instinctual duty to protect his hoard from danger and he would not allow such acts to go unpunished.

"Rosehearts," the low growl sent shivers down your spine, "after further consideration of your own remorse and the pleas of my child of man, I have decided your penance. You shall not be permitted to any time alone with her and whatever time you do spend in her presence must be monitored by another Housewarden until it is clear you will not overblot again."

"But I deserve so much worse for-"

"I don't recall telling you that you had any say in what I deem as appropriate punishment."

Riddle quieted himself with a nod of submission, looking away from the intense eyes of the Dragon. You had genuinely expected Malleus to be angrier, but apparently he held your opinion in rather high regard as he decided to not slay the Unicorn for his actions. Maybe the Dragon did see you as more than a pet.

"Furthermore, the next time it is Heartslabuyl's turn to guard her, you will be forfeiting that honor to Diasomnia until you have proven to be in control of yourself."

"But I- okay. I understand..."

It was then you decided to speak up, still feeling more than a little loopy and cozy thanks to the tandem potion and wing-hug.

"For what it's worth, Riddle, I don't forgive you, but I don't think I hate you either. Try to hurt Grim again and I will hate you, but I don't hate you right now."

~•§•~

"I hate him so much right now..."

You frowned deeply as you whined, holding your arm and staring at the kitchen. You could try to make something with one arm, but it was going to be difficult. There was little chance you were going to let Lilia cook as Silver had near begged to be spared such a fate, so you had to figure something out. Part of you deeply resented the many ruined pastries as you had been so excited to try them when you saw them sitting with such organized disorder on the table.

"What a waste of good food."

You continued muttering angrily as you moved around the kitchen trying to gather ingredients. The general plan was to make something simple and quick so you could rest your arm- per Professor Divus' strict instructions- but feeding seven was a lot of work. Four portions for your four guards, one for you, one for Grim, and one for the inevitable return of the Gnoll Ruggie. He was likely camped out somewhere near your dorm at the moment, just waiting for that good smell to bring him in.

Lilia sat nearby, petting a now content and very relaxed Grim who was curled up next to the Bat. He had offered to cook only once and now let you continue the process as you insisted and he decided not to interfere further. Sebek was trying to be helpful and wound up doing far too much, grabbing the pots and pans from you any time you tried to lift one and you were starting to become irate. A dull throbbing ache in your arm only took even more from your quickly thinning patience.

It was then a gentle knock came at that side kitchen door and you nearly screamed in rage from yet another uninvited guest. Lilia was quick to answer and you were caught off guard by the voices you heard.

"It is only fair the remaining tarts left in the kitchen come here. Besides, she needs to cook her meals but can only use one arm, I'm not great beyond the bakery, but I can still help in the kitchen."

"It is my duty as the one who caused the harm to rectify my mistake or at least help where I can. I understand if I should be turned away."

You walked over to the doorway behind Lilia, surprised to see Riddle and Trey standing there. Now that you were lucid and not in a magic induced stupor, you were actually able to take in the full brevity of their injuries.

Trey's side was wrapped up in a bandage but he seemed to be in good spirits despite it all. That green you thought you saw in his coat was gone and he was back to that immaculate white. He seemed to be gingering a leg but still stood holding a covered tray.

Riddle was back in his dorm clothes, crown and all, despite looking much worse for wear. His horn was now shorter than before, the cracked point having been filed down to the non-cracked section and the cuts along the corners of his mouth were bandaged. There were still sections of his hair and tail that looked like they had been leeched of color, an almost black tinted gray from his time overblotted. The gold of his hooves and horn had lost some of their shine.

"Riddle, you need to rest. Being up and about won't help."

"But I need-"

"You need to lay down somewhere."

"I can't. Not when you and Trey are up and working."

"Come in, the both of you."

You sighed as the two trotted their way into the dorm, Trey having to duck to get through the door. He set the tray down and turned to smile at you as he rolled up his sleeves, ready to get to work helping you in the kitchen. Honestly, you could have kissed him in that moment for the absolute relief you felt at having another pair of hands in the kitchen. Taking a quick look at what you already gathered, a quick idea came to you that involved much less work for you and a good way to utilize Trey's bakery skills in the process.

"Ever had a meat pie? Kind of like making a fruit pie but savory. I can get the filling together if you can make the crusts and tops for the individual meat pies, just make sure to use less sugar. I'm sure there are tins around here somewhere."

"I can absolutely do that. How many am I making?"

"Well, there's going to be ten of us if the evening plays out the way I think it will."

"How do you figure?"

"There's usually one or two extra visitors during meals here so may as well make extra. If not, I can always have more later."

"Fair enough."

You already had mostly gathered up what you would need to make a decent filling for these pies, so only a few things extra needed to be grabbed. Clearly, you were now in a much better mood thanks to having someone to help who wouldn't burn down the kitchen. It was as you were contemplating cutting the vegetables that Silver quietly stepped in, dicing the vegetables and meat into fine cubes that would go well in the dish. There was very little you actually had to do other than get the rest put together and soon the delicious aroma of the baking pies could be smelled through the entire dorm.

Riddle had tried several times to help, but you made Sebek bring in one of the oversized couches from the main dorm common-area. You had recalled seeing the furniture and wondering just what would need a couch so large. Now that answer was quite obvious as Riddle lay on the couch, almost immediately passing out once he got comfortable. Silver picked up the blanket that he kept across his back, laying it over the exhausted Sophomore and let him sleep.

As the aroma of the pies got stronger, the inevitable whining and scratching came from that side door. Ruggie was back and he was seeking more food to feast upon, ever hungry and yapping in excitement at the prospect of another meal. You vaguely considered just trying to cook a bunch of things and having the Gnoll be your taste tester. He certainly wouldn't mind the free food.

"Got it~"

Lilia sang as he hopped down from the counter he claimed as a perch, opening the door for the eager Gnoll. Ruggie followed his nose right to the large oven and his tail began wagging incredibly fast as he snorted against the side of the oven.

"Careful, Ruggie, it's hot. When they're done cooking we have to let them sit for a bit or they could burn you."

"Okay! When? Is it soon? They smell so good, I want one now."

"You can't have one now, but you can lick the bowl if you really want to."

He didn't need any invitation beyond that to begin lazily licking the bowl the filling had been in, eager to get all the food he could. You would have laughed at the way he so happily feasted on the scraps if you weren't so tired. Even as you leaned against the counter, you somewhat considered laying on top of the Unicorn and taking a nap as well.

Somewhere in your thinking another presence made itself known in that you were suddenly grabbed and pulled into a tighter than comfortable hug.

"My little chick, are you okay? How is your arm? Have you been taking care of it? I flew over the second I got back. I was meeting the Royal Sword Academy Headmage when your collar pinged. Divus told me what happened. Where is that damned Unicorn-?"

"Quiet. He's sleeping. I'm not fine- but it could be worse. You will let Riddle sleep- he is exhausted- or you don't get a pie."

"... Pie?"

You frowned as the Headmage thankfully released you, still staying rather close as he examined your injured arm. His feathers were ruffled and it almost looked like he had flown to where you were as soon as he received news of your condition. Somewhere in the back of your mind you wondered how he got in the dorm, but he was the Headmage and odds are had access to all the buildings on campus.

It was then he actually seemed to take a deep breath, humming out curiously and noticing Ruggie who still had his nose close to the door of the oven. Ruggie was not keen to move from his spot but he begrudgingly allowed the Headmage to approach the oven. He took a quick peek inside and seemed to like what he saw as his smile returned and he forgot all about the sleeping Riddle.

"Oh? It has been a while since I last had a good Human-cooked meal... Very well. Since I'm just the vision of kindness, and your forgiveness is nothing short of inspiring, I can forgive Mr. Rosehearts for now. He is clearly still feeling the lasting effects of overblotting but hopefully he will learn from this and avoid such extremes in the future."

You rolled your eyes at the way the Headmage praised himself but you were happy to know Riddle was at least able to keep sleeping. When the pies were ready, you would wake him, but he needed the rest right now. Trey constantly checked on the pies and once they had a good golden crisp, he got them out of the oven. It made you glad Trey was present as he kept the hungry Gnoll at bay until the pies were cool enough to eat without scalding anyone.

"Riddle?"

You were gentle as you woke the Unicorn, he had been sleeping deeply and seemed almost confused when you woke him. The slight snort that came from him made you chuckle somewhat as you offered him the warm meat pie.

"But, I don't deserve-"

"You will eat that pie and shut up about being deserving or I will force feed the entire thing to you."

There was a look in his eyes as if he felt he didn't deserve the nice meal, but his hunger won him over rather quickly as he took several slow bites and savored the meal you and Trey had made.

Ruggie scarfed the food down in seconds and now lay on the tile of the kitchen, his somewhat distended stomach spoke volumes to how content he was as he basked next to the residual warmth of the oven. Grim was quick to join the Gnoll and the two you felt most responsible for in the dorm clearly enjoyed their meal. Even Crowley was making happy cawing noises as he ate the pie.

"I must say, I was curious how these pies would taste, but you were right, (Y/n). They're delicious."

"See, Trey? Even if you're used to making sweets, you can make something savory with those same bakery skills and just a little less sugar."

"I would love to learn to make more, if you would allow my curiosity."

Crowley's wings fluffed out, making both you and the Kelpie pause the conversation to look over at the odd bird-man. He had cleaned his plate and was licking his fork for whatever bit was left on the splines.

"(Y/n), my precious little chick, how would you feel about teaching some culinary classes once your arm heals up?"

[rynwritesreid]

Take a ride| Spencer Reid

A/N: First of all, I hope that this is suitable compensation for everyone affected by my last fic. Second, my next non-requested smutty upload will be Sub! Spencer. And lastly, thank you so much for all the love guys, I am slowly working through your requests. Jag älskar dig 🫶🏼

Summary: You love to challenge authority, always knowing when to stop pushing buttons. However, you decide to see how far you can push Spencer before he gets angry enough to do something about it.

Content: Fem!Reader. Smut. Dom!Spencer Sub!Reader. Oral (both f & m receiving). Thigh humping. Fingering. Light bondage. Angry Spencer. Semi humiliation kink. Edging/overstimulation. Bratty reader. Power imbalance kink. 18+

Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation

Spencer knew what he was getting into when he started dating you.  You weren’t defiant, per se, you followed the rules but only when you thought necessary. You didn’t mind getting lectured by Hotch, in fact, Spencer thought it was something you enjoyed.

 

Spencer knew you would not be someone who would easily submit to anyone or anything. He knew you were going to be a challenge, he just underestimated how much of a challenge you were going to be.

 

It wasn't just your defiance that fascinated him; it was the way you effortlessly challenged authority without ever crossing the line. You had a knack for bending the rules while still managing to stay within their boundaries. It was as if you had an innate understanding of when to push back and when to surrender.

 

Even though you loved pushing Hotch’s and the FBI buttons, you loved pushing Spencer’s more. Normally you wouldn’t take it too far, just far enough where you knew you were in for a treat later on. Spencer would normally overstimulate you; he loved hearing you beg for forgiveness, saying sorry over and over again until all you could do was moan.

 

But you wanted to see how far you could take it with Spencer, what he would do. You decided to play it safe to start off with. Every time he spoke, you would roll your eyes. At first, he didn’t seem to acknowledge what you were doing, he would simply carry on talking. Though after about a day of doing this, he would glare at you.

 

But instead of discouraging you, his glare only fuelled the fire within you. You craved his attention, even if it meant pushing his limits. So, you intensified your defiance, not holding back anymore.

 

As Spencer continued to talk, you let out an exasperated sigh and crossed your arms, openly displaying your disinterest. The room fell silent, all eyes on you and Spencer. His glare intensified, a mix of frustration and intrigue evident in his eyes.

 

"Is there something you want to say?" he finally asked, his voice slightly strained.

 

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. "Oh, I'm sorry," you replied sarcastically. "I didn't realize I had to be interested in every little thing you have to say."

 

Spencer's jaw clenched as he fought to maintain his composure. He wasn't used to being challenged like this, especially not by someone he cared about. He didn’t say another word to you, he just took his eyes away and talked to the rest of your peers.

 

Once everyone had gone back to their desks, Spencer walked over to you. His eyes never leaving yours. “Roll your eyes one more time at me, and so help me God.” You could feel the tension in the air as Spencer stood before you, his voice low and controlled.

 

You knew you were starting to get to him, but you knew you could still take it further. “I thought you were an atheist, Spencer. Why are you asking God for help?” Even though your question was rhetorical, you asked it with a level of sincerity.

 

"Enough, Y/N," he growled, his voice full of warning. "You know exactly what I meant."

 

You could sense the shift in his demeanour, the underlying intensity that had been simmering beneath the surface. You had pushed him to his breaking point, and yet, you couldn't help but feel a strange surge of exhilaration coursing through your veins.

 

Spencer took a step closer, his proximity only heightening the charged atmosphere between you. The air crackled with unspoken desire and unyielding defiance. There was a part of you that wanted to relent, to submit to his authority, but another part revelled in the power play that unfolded before you.

 

"And what if I don't comply?" you challenged, your voice laced with defiance. "What will you do?"

 

He didn’t answer straightaway, so you answered for him. “Exactly, nothing. Maybe you should go back to your desk and get some work done before Hotch complains.”

 

Spencer's eyes flashed with a mix of frustration and desire as he watched you, the challenge in your voice only serving to further ignite the fire within him. He could feel his control slipping, his usual calm and composed demeanour unravelling at the sheer audacity of your defiance.

 

With a calculated move, he took another step closer, closing the distance between you. His voice dropped to a low whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "You underestimate me, Y/N," he said, his tone laced with a dangerous edge. "But I assure you, I'm more than capable of making you comply."

 

He walked back to his desk, not allowing you to have the final word. You could see that you had rattled him, and that only fuelled your determination to push him further. You wanted to see how far he would go, how much control he was willing to relinquish.

 

For the rest of the day, you played it cool, focusing on your work and pretending as though nothing had happened between you and Spencer. You barely looked up at him, you wanted him to think he had won for now.

 

But as the hours ticked by, you could feel Spencer's eyes on you, his gaze burning into your skin. You knew he was silently contemplating his next move, strategizing how to regain control over the situation. And you were eager to see what he had in store.

 

Finally, as the workday drew to a close, Spencer stood up from his desk and walked purposefully towards you. His steps were measured, his expression unreadable. When he reached you, he took hold of your arm firmly but gently, guiding you towards the exit.

 

"Where are we going?" you asked, feigning innocence even though you had an inkling of what Spencer had in mind.

 

He didn’t answer, he didn’t even look at you. “Spencer, where are we going? I wanted to go to Rossi’s tonight, he’s teaching us to make homemade linguini, remember?” He still remained silent though.

 

“Are you ignoring me? How mature Spencer.” Spencer's grip tightened on your arm as he led you outside, away from the prying eyes of your colleagues. The cool night air brushed against your skin, adding a layer of suspense to the already charged atmosphere between you.

 

"Enough, Y/N," he finally spoke, his voice laced with both frustration and desire. “You’ve being testing me all day. And I think it’s time someone reminded you who’s in charge here.”

 

“No one’s meant to be in charge in a relationship, but if you want, I can go grab Hotch, I mean he is the one in charge after all.” Spencer’s eyes narrowed, annoyance and irritation flashing across his face. He had reached his breaking point, his patience worn thin by your relentless defiance. Without a word, he grabbed your waist and pulled you into him, his grip firm and possessive.

 

"Enough games, Y/N," he growled, his voice dripping with authority. "You push me, you challenge me, but do not mistake it for a lack of control."

 

He leaned in closer, his hot breath fanning across your ear as he whispered, "You want to play? Fine. But just remember, I always win."

 

“You don’t always win. I mean you haven’t won today. And what about Rossi’s?”

 

Spencer's gaze bore into yours, his intensity unwavering. "Rossi's can wait," he replied, a hint of mischief in his voice. "Right now, I'm going to remind you who's in charge."

 

He walked you over to his car, letting go of your arm so he could open your door, a gesture he always did, not matter how angry he was with you.

 

You slid into the passenger seat, still unable to hide the smirk playing on your lips. Spencer closed your door and made his way to the driver's side, taking a moment to compose himself before he started the engine.

 

As the car roared to life, the tension inside the vehicle matched the charged atmosphere between you. Spencer's grip on the steering wheel was tight, his knuckles turning white as he navigated the streets with a precision that mirrored his meticulous nature.

 

You decided to break the silence, you wanted to apologies to him, not because you were actually sorry but because you wanted him to think you were. “I’m sorry, Spencer. I was just bored today, and I thought it would be fun seeing how far I could take things. But I now realise that’s something I shouldn’t have done. So, I am truly and utterly sorry.” Your voice calm, but low, so it seemed like a real apology.

 

He remained silent, his eyes never leaving the road. “Spencer, please respond. I didn’t mean to anger you, I thought you would find it fun.”

 

“I don’t want to hear excuses, or fake apologies. You obviously need to learn a lesson.” Spencer's voice was cold, devoid of any hint of forgiveness or understanding. The atmosphere in the car became suffocating, the tension thick enough to cut through with a knife. You swallowed hard, feeling a twinge of unease crawl up your spine.

 

As Spencer continued to drive, the surroundings began to blur into a blur of streetlights and passing buildings. His steely gaze never wavered from the road ahead, his control unyielding and unwavering. It was as if he had transformed into someone else entirely, someone you had never seen before.

 

You glanced at him cautiously, trying to gauge his reaction. The anger in his eyes was still palpable, but there was something else there too—a hunger that made your breath hitch and your heart race. You could feel the heat between you intensifying, an electrifying current that left you both exhilarated and apprehensive.

 

"Spencer," you whispered tentatively, reaching out to touch his arm. Your fingers brushed against his skin, feeling the warmth radiating from it. But before you could say anything more, he abruptly pulled his arm away, his gaze still locked on the road ahead.

 

"Don't touch me," he snapped, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. The sharpness of his tone startled you, causing your hand to retract back to your side.

 

Once he had pulled up to his apartment, you didn’t wait for him to open your door, and simply jumped out and waited for him. As you stood outside his apartment, you could feel the tension between you and Spencer reach its peak. The air crackled with anticipation, each passing second heightening your desire for him. You knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for, the culmination of your shared lust and pent-up frustration.

 

Spencer finally emerged from the car, his tall figure casting a shadow over you. He eyed you intently, his gaze burning with a mix of anger and longing. Without saying a word, he walked towards you and grabbed your wrist, pulling you towards the entrance of his building.

 

He pulled you up the stairs, not even letting go off you to open up his door. Once inside his apartment, Spencer slammed the door shut behind you, his eyes never leaving yours. The room was dimly lit, casting long shadows that danced across the walls, amplifying the intensity of the moment.

 

“Spencer, I said I’m sorry. What else do you want me to do?” Spencer's silence hung heavy in the air as he continued to hold your wrist tightly, his grip unyielding. The room felt smaller, the walls closing in around you, intensifying the sense of anticipation and unease. You watched as his eyes bore into yours, searching for any hint of sincerity in your words.

 

His voice was low and gravelly as he finally spoke, his tone laced with a mix of frustration and desire. "Sorry isn't enough, Y/N. Words won't be sufficient to teach you the lesson you so desperately need."

 

He paused for a second, trying to come up with a good enough punishment. “The only way you’re getting off tonight, is my thigh.”

 

"Are you serious?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The intensity in his eyes was enough to confirm that this was no idle threat. He meant every word.

 

“I am very serious. Remember, you did this to yourself. If anything, I’m going too easy on you. Maybe I shouldn’t let you cum for the rest of the week, or make sure you struggle to walk for the next few days.”

 

You gasped, the gravity of his words sinking in. As much as his punishment excited you, it also stirred a deep sense of vulnerability within you.

 

"Spencer, please," you pleaded, your voice trembling with a mix of desire and apprehension. "I didn't mean to push you this far. I just wanted... I just wanted to feel your control."

 

A flicker of understanding flashed across his eyes, but he remained resolute. "Control is not something to be taken lightly, Y/N," he said sternly. "It is earned and respected. And tonight, you will learn exactly what it means to surrender."

 

He led you to the living room, fingers still wrapped tightly around your wrist. The atmosphere was heavy with anticipation, every second stretching out into eternity as you waited for his command.

 

"Undress," he ordered, his voice firm. A small part of you wanted to tell him that if he wants to see you naked, then he should undress you himself. But you knew then that would be pushing it a little too far.

 

He stood still, watching you as you unbuttoned your blouse, revealing a light blue lace bra. His eyes scanning your body, his tongue licking his lips. He looked at you as if you were prey. As you moved onto your trousers, his eyes followed. It was almost humiliating. He was staying fully dressed, while watching you undress yourself for him.

 

Your heart raced as you slid your trousers down your legs, feeling exposed under his unwavering gaze. "You look beautiful," Spencer murmured, his voice low and husky. His eyes continued to roam over your body, taking in every curve and dip, fuelling a fire deep within you. You couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at his words, even though you knew it was merely a precursor to the punishment that awaited you.

 

“But when I said undress, I meant fully.” His voice had gone back to being cold.

 

You hesitated for a moment, uncertain of whether you were ready to bare yourself completely. The room grew colder as you stood there, shivering slightly under his gaze. With a deep breath, you reached behind your back and unhooked your bra, letting it slide down your arms and dropping it to the floor.

 

Spencer's eyes darkened with a mix of desire and dominance as he watched you undress. The air crackled with tension, the anticipation thickening with each passing moment. You kicked off your panties, finally standing before him completely exposed and vulnerable.

 

You watched as he walked over to his sofa. He sat himself down and open his legs slightly. He patted his thigh, as if he were asking you to sit on it for him.

 

Taking a step forward, you approached him with a mixture of trepidation and longing. You felt the cool air brush against your bare skin, heightening your senses. With each fleeting moment, the anticipation grew, electrifying the atmosphere.

 

You positioned yourself in front of Spencer, his thigh invitingly raised and awaiting your compliance. Slowly, you straddled him, feeling the heat of his body radiating through his clothes. The contact sent a wave of electricity coursing through your veins, causing you to inhale sharply.

 

Spencer's hands found their way to your hips, gripping them firmly as he guided you onto his thigh. The pressure against your core was immediate, eliciting a soft moan from deep within your throat. The friction of his thigh against your sensitive flesh sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body, making it difficult to suppress the moans that threatened to escape your lips.

 

"Ride my thigh, Y/N," he growled, his voice laced with a raw hunger that sent shivers down your spine. "Show me how badly you want to be controlled."

 

Spencer's hands tightened their grip on your hips, guiding your movements with precision. Each motion sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, building the tight coil of desire within you. The room filled with the sound of your moans, mingling with Spencer's low groans of pleasure.

 

As you rode his thigh, the intensity of the moment consumed you. The room fell away, leaving only the two of you entangled in a dance of desire and control. Spencer's hands tightened on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he guided your movements with expert precision.

 

“Is this all it takes for you to actually listen to me? You just want to cum huh?” He chuckled.

 

You only seemed to be able to nod your head, the only thing leaving your mouth were moans. “Maybe I should have asked you to grind against my shoes instead, you seem to be enjoying this too much.”

 

Your body trembled with a mixture of pleasure and desperation as Spencer's words sank in. The thought of grinding against his shoes sent a surge of excitement through you, despite the humiliation it would bring. You were at his mercy, completely under his control, and you craved more.

 

Spencer's grip on your hips tightened as he felt your body tense with desire. A wicked smile tugged at the corners of his lips, reflecting the dominance that radiated from him. With a sudden surge of confidence, he released your hips and reached down to unbutton his pants. The sound of metal against metal echoed through the room as he unzipped his fly, freeing himself from the confines of his trousers.

 

You watched with hungry eyes as Spencer's erection sprang free, standing proudly before you. A shiver ran down your spine as desire pooled between your thighs, the ache for release growing stronger by the second. The anticipation was palpable, hanging thickly in the air like an intoxicating fog.

 

"Get on your knees," Spencer commanded, his voice low and commanding. You obeyed without hesitation, the need to please him overpowering any remnants of resistance. Your knees sank into the plush carpet, bringing you eye level with his throbbing length.

 

You could feel his gaze burning into you as you took him in your hands, stroking his length firmly. A groan escaped from Spencer's lips; his head tilted back in pleasure. The power dynamic between you had shifted completely, and you revelled in the sense of control you now held.

 

With every stroke, Spencer grew harder in your grasp, his desire evident in the way he gripped onto the edge of the sofa. You marvelled at the way he responded to your touch, relishing in the way his body reacted to your every movement.

 

You leaned in closer, flicking your tongue against the sensitive tip of his cock. Spencer's breath hitched, a low growl rumbling from deep within his chest. He tangled his fingers in your hair, guiding you as you took him further into your mouth.

 

Your lips wrapped around him, the taste of his desire lingering on your tongue. You reveled in the power you held over him, eager to please and satisfy his every need. Your tongue glided along his length, tracing the veins that pulsed with his desire. Spencer's grip on your hair tightened, his hips canting forward, urging you to take him deeper.

 

The intensity of the moment consumed you as you surrendered completely to him. Each thrust of his hips brought you closer to the edge, your own desire building with every flicker of your tongue against his sensitive flesh. Your senses heightened, the sound of his moans filling the room, mingling with your own pleasure-filled gasps.

 

Spencer's control wavered as he neared the precipice of release. His grip on your hair became tighter, guiding you with an urgency that matched the rhythm of his thrusts. The powerful waves of pleasure coursed through him, radiating from every inch of his being.

 

As Spencer's release neared, you could feel the tension in his body intensify. His breaths became ragged and irregular, and you could sense that he was on the verge of losing his grip on control. With a final, desperate thrust, he released himself into your mouth.

 

You swallowed eagerly, savouring the taste of him as his essence filled your senses. The primal satisfaction that filled the room was overwhelming, leaving you both breathless and intoxicated with desire.

 

Spencer collapsed back onto the sofa, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. You rose from your knees, licking your lips and savouring the lingering taste of him on your tongue.

 

Spencer knew he wasn’t done with you yet; he knew this wasn’t a proper punishment. Spencer's eyes burned with a renewed determination as he met your gaze. Despite the intense pleasure that still lingered within you, there was a hunger for more, an unquenchable longing that pulsed through your veins.

 

"Get on the bed," he commanded, his voice low and commanding. The room seemed to dim around you, shadows dancing against the walls, as you obeyed his command.

 

The bed beckoned you, its soft sheets invitingly cool against your heated skin. You climbed onto it, positioning yourself on all fours, ready and exposed for whatever Spencer had in mind.

 

Spencer stood up from the sofa, his eyes fixed on your vulnerable form on the bed. He moved towards you slowly, the anticipation building with each step. As he reached the edge of the bed, he trailed a finger lightly along your spine.

 

He reached over to the nightstand and retrieved a length of silk rope, his eyes never leaving yours. With a swift motion, he secured your wrists together, binding them tightly but not painfully. You tested the restraints instinctively, feeling the rush of helplessness mingling with arousal.

 

With your wrists secured, Spencer moved to the foot of the bed, his gaze darkening with a predatory hunger. He wasted no time, his hands trailing up your legs, skimming over the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. A shiver ran through you, anticipation coiling tightly in your core.

 

His touch was teasing, tormenting, as he neared the apex of your thighs. His fingers danced along the edges of your arousal, but never fully delved into it. It was a maddeningly slow torture that left you trembling with need.

 

"Please," you whispered, unable to contain the desperation in your voice. The ache within you was unbearable, the longing for release. Spencer's lips curled into a devilish smile, relishing in the power he held over you. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Patience, my love. I deserve patience after the stunts you pulled today.”

 

His fingers continued their torturous dance along your inner thighs, inching closer to your throbbing core. Every brush of his fingertips ignited a fire within you, intensifying the ache for release. Your body quivered with need, yearning for his touch to finally grant you the satisfaction you craved.

 

Finally, Spencer's fingers made contact with your slick folds, teasingly skimming against your sensitive entrance. A gasp escaped your lips as he dipped a single finger inside, drawing out a slow, deliberate stroke that had you arching your back in sheer ecstasy. Each movement was precise, calculated to push you closer to the edge without granting you the climax you so desperately sought.

 

"More," you begged, your voice filled with a desperation that matched the wildfire burning within you. Spencer's eyes gleamed with delight at your plea, relishing in the power he held over your pleasure.

 

With a wicked smile, he added another finger, curling them inside you expertly, hitting that spot that made your entire body quiver with every stroke. The intensity of the pleasure built rapidly, transcending everything else in the room. Your moans filled the air, mingling with the sound of his fingers slipping in and out of you.

 

But just as you were on the precipice of release, Spencer pulled his fingers out, leaving you gasping and reaching for something to cling onto. The sudden emptiness made you whimper with frustration. Spencer's eyes held an intoxicating mix of dominance and satisfaction as he watched you squirm on the bed.

 

"You don't get to come yet," he murmured huskily. "Not until I've had my fill." Spencer's words hung in the air, teasing, and taunting you. Every fibber of your being throbbed with desire, yearning for release. The hunger in his eyes reflected your own as he positioned himself between your spread legs.

 

Lowering his head, Spencer's hot breath fanned across your sensitive flesh. His lips brushed against your inner thighs, peppering soft kisses along the way, deliberately avoiding the centre of your need. The anticipation was agonizing, a delicious torment that made your body ache for his touch.

 

Finally, his tongue flicked out and traced a slow circle around your swollen clit. A gasp escaped your lips as pleasure surged through you. He continued to tease, alternating between gentle licks and firm sucks that had you writhing beneath him.

 

Each flicker of his tongue against your most intimate place intensified the fire within you. Your hips rocked instinctively, seeking more friction, more pleasure. But Spencer held firm control over your pleasure, denying you the release you so desperately craved. He continued his torturous ministrations, never relenting, never granting you the satisfaction of that mind-numbing climax.

 

Your body trembled with every stroke of his tongue, your need escalating to a maddening frenzy. The room was filled with the symphony of your moans, your pleas mixed with the wet sounds of his mouth on your throbbing core. The tension coiled tighter and tighter within you, threatening to shatter your sanity.

 

Spencer's hands gripped your hips, holding you firmly in place as he devoured you with an insatiable hunger. You were at his mercy, surrendering yourself completely to his touch. The pulsating waves of pleasure radiated through every fibber of your being, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

 

Just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, when the ache for release became unbearable, Spencer pulled away.

 

Your whole body cried out in protest at the sudden absence of his touch. You whimpered, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Spencer's dark eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he watched you, revelling in the control he had over your pleasure.

 

"Please," you begged, your voice dripping with need. "I need to cum."

 

Spencer's lips curled into a wicked smile, knowing full well the power he held over your satisfaction. He crawled up the bed, positioning himself over you, his hard length brushing against your thigh. The hunger in his eyes was palpable as he captured your gaze.

 

"Oh, my love," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. "I'm not done with you yet. I want to watch you unravel completely."

 

His words sent a shiver down your spine, desire pooling between your legs once again. Spencer grasped your wrists, releasing them from their restraints, allowing you to wrap your arms around him.

 

With a swift motion, Spencer positioned himself at your entrance, teasing you with the head of his throbbing length. The anticipation was maddening, the need for him to fill you overwhelming every inch of your being. You let out a soft whimper, begging him to take you, to quell the ache that consumed you.

 

But Spencer relished in your desperation, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue plundering your mouth with a hunger that matched your own. It was a battle of dominance and surrender as your tongues danced and clashed, melding together in a frenzied embrace.

 

When he finally pulled away, his lips trailed down your neck, peppering heated kisses along the curve of your throat. His breath was hot against your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. As his teeth grazed along the sensitive flesh, a bolt of pleasure shot through you, electrifying every nerve ending.

 

With agonizing slowness, Spencer entered you, his hard length filling you inch by inch. You gasped at the delicious stretch, the feeling of him stretching you to your limits. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, a mix of pain and ecstasy that had your body arching off the bed in pure bliss.

 

He began to move within you, his thrusts slow and deliberate. Each stroke sent waves of pleasure radiating through your body, intensifying the ache for release that had been building within you for so long. Your fingers clenched against the silk restraints, the sensation of being bound adding an extra layer of arousal.

 

Spencer's pace quickened, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. He knew exactly how to push your buttons, hitting that spot deep inside you with every powerful stroke. The room filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, mingling with your moans and gasps.

 

Your senses were completely consumed by the pleasure, nothing else existing except for the connection between you and Spencer. His gaze locked with yours, his eyes filled with an intensity that matched the blaze within you. Every movement, every thrust, carried you further and further into a state of raw ecstasy. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you entwined in a dance of desire.

 

As Spencer's rhythm became more erratic, your body responded in kind, meeting his every movement with unyielding fervour. The bed rocked beneath you, a symphony of creaks and moans echoing through the room. Sweat glistened on your skin, the scent of desire mingling with the air.

 

Time lost all meaning as pleasure coiled tightly within you, ready to unravel at any moment. The fire burned within your core, threatening to consume you whole. Spencer's fingers dug into your hips, his grip possessive yet exhilarating.

 

With one final thrust, the dam broke.

 

An explosion of sensation ripped through your body as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Your nails dug into his skin. He quickly followed you, releasing his seed deep in you.

 

He pulled out and had a look a triumph plastered across his face. “I think we should probably get ready to leave now, huh?”

 

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[cherriecove]

A New Dawn

Alicent Hightower x M!Reader

Summary: With the Hightower plot to place Aegon on the thrown a failure, Queen Rhaenyra finds herself unsure with what she should do with her old-friend. After some consideration she decides to remarry Alicent to her Hand, a man she trusts wholeheartedly, this of course upsets Alicent who belived her marital duties died when her husband did. Cherrie's Notes: This was a request that i really loved the idea of! Would like to apologiese in advance becasue this is so long I changed some things slightly but not too much. This is the first time I am writing a male reader and although there is no real description i hope it is satsfactory! There are so many words im sorry i got carried away! Masterlist

The bells of King’s Landing tolled in the early dawn, marking the end of one era and the uncertain beginning of another. With the death of King Viserys I, Queen Rhaenyra had ascended to the Iron Throne, securing her rightful place as ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. Yet, the victory was bittersweet, marred by treachery and near civil war. Alicent Hightower, Viserys’ widow and mother to Rhaenyra’s half-siblings, stood on the losing side. Her father’s ambitious plot to place Aegon on the throne had failed, and the Greens' hold on power was shattered.

Now, Rhaenyra ruled over a fractured court, her mercy the only thing keeping Alicent and her children alive. Otto Hightower, once the most powerful man in the realm, rotted in the dungeons. He was still scheming, still whispering plans of future influence, and Alicent found herself torn between loyalty to her father and a growing desire for peace.

Though Rhaenyra was urged to imprison or execute both Alicent and Otto, she hesitated. Old bonds of friendship still lingered in her heart, even if they had been buried beneath years of betrayal and political manoeuvring. In this delicate balance, you—Rhaenyra’s loyal Hand—offered a solution.

“If you wish Lady Alicent to live freely, Your Grace, then perhaps she should be placed under the care of someone you trust implicitly,” you had said, knowing full well the weight of such a suggestion.

“And who might that be?” Rhaenyra asked, her eyes searching yours with a knowing look.

You held her gaze. “Your Hand, Your Grace. I can see to it that she remains free but under close supervision.”

Rhaenyra’s expression softened into a sly smile. “Then you shall marry her.”

The queen’s words struck you as sharply as they did Alicent when she was informed of the arrangement. It was the last thing she expected. After all these years, she had thought herself done with marriage, with the expectations and duties thrust upon her. The mere thought of submitting again, of being bound by obligation, made her heart ache. 

Yet on the day of the wedding Alicent stood before the sept, her hands clasped tightly, the weight of the world resting on her slender shoulders. The vows echoed around her like a distant murmur, a ceremony that held little meaning for her heart. She barely glanced at you, her brown eyes, once so bright and commanding, now distant and guarded.

This was not the life she had envisioned. After Viserys’ death, she had assumed her time as queen was over, that she would fade into the shadows, left to a quiet existence without further demands. The idea of marrying again, especially to someone with no ambition, no thirst for power, had seemed almost unreal to her.

Yet here she was.

The thought of being bound to another man filled her with dread. Despite your reputation for loyalty and honour, she couldn't help but fear what this union might become. Marriage, in her experience, had always been about duty, submission, and control. The idea of yielding herself once more, her body and will, to another man’s authority terrified her. This marriage felt like a new prison, different from the gilded cage Viserys had kept her in, but a cage nonetheless.

On the night after your wedding, Alicent retreated to her chambers, her heart a swirl of confusion and bitterness. She had braced herself for what she assumed would come next—a knock at her door, a quiet but insistent demand to fulfil the duties of a wife. Viserys had not been cruel, but he had expected certain things from her, things she had learned to accept despite her reluctance. She feared history would repeat itself, that you too would seek an heir, another way to secure this alliance.

But you surprised her.

There was no knock. No intrusion. The silence of her chambers stretched into the night, uninterrupted by any demand or expectation. The following night passed in the same manner, and the one after that. You did not come to her room, did not impose yourself upon her. Instead, you gave her space, a freedom she had not anticipated. It unsettled her at first, the lack of pressure, but slowly, she began to breathe easier.

You treated her with respect, never asking for more than she was willing to give. You allowed her to visit her father in the dungeons, though under strict guard. Each visit left her feeling more conflicted than ever, as Otto, ever the schemer, continued to urge her to find ways to manipulate you, to regain some of the power she had lost. Yet, despite his machinations, you remained distant from those games, patient and steady.

One evening, after another tense meeting with her father, Alicent returned to your chambers, her face drawn and her steps hesitant. She hovered at the threshold, her fingers curling around the door frame. You sat by the fire, a book in hand, your features calm and focused. The warmth of the flames cast soft shadows on the room, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside her.

“I need to speak with you,” she said quietly.

You looked up, closing the book and setting it aside. “Of course. Come in.”

She stepped inside but did not sit, her voice low and uncertain. “My father… he’s still trying to use me. He wants me to manipulate you, to influence Rhaenyra’s decisions. He believes I can sway you.”

You didn’t react with surprise, nor with anger. Instead, you simply nodded, as if you had already expected this. “Thank you for telling me.”

Alicent exhaled, her shoulders sagging slightly with relief. “I don’t want to be used anymore. Not by him. Not by anyone.”

You stood, your expression soft but serious, and approached her with a deliberate slowness, careful not to make her feel cornered. “Alicent, you are not under anyone’s control now—not your father’s, not mine, not anyone’s. I won’t let him use you, and I won’t treat you like a pawn in his or anyone’s schemes.”

She looked up at you, her guarded expression flickering with something close to disbelief. “You… you truly mean that?”

“I do,” you said, your voice firm but gentle. “I never wanted this marriage for power or gain. I have no interest in forcing anything upon you—marital duty or otherwise.I don’t expect anything of you that you’re not willing to give.”

She blinked, her lips parting in surprise. The firelight danced across her face, casting shadows that highlighted the tension in her features. For a moment, there was silence—unspoken words hanging in the air between you, an understanding growing in the space that had long been empty.

Finally, Alicent spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "You... don't want anything from me? Not even—" She hesitated, her words stuck in her throat leading you to shake your head gently. "No," you said, your tone calm. "I don’t expect that from you, unless that is something you desire.” 

Alicent’s brow furrowed, a mix of confusion and hesitation clouding her eyes. “But we are wed,” she said, her voice barely audible. “Isn’t it… isn’t it your right to expect me to fulfil my duty? Is that not what this union is meant to be?”

Your gaze softened as you stepped closer, but still you remained careful not to approach too quickly. “You are not a vessel for duty, Alicent,” you said, your voice firm but gentle. “You are a person, not a means to an end. We are married because it is the only way to allow you peace, and to give our realm stability. Anything within our marriage is based on because you desire it—because we decide it together. Not because you’re bound to some obligation.” 

Alicent stared at you for a long moment, as though searching for something deeper beneath your words. Perhaps a hidden motive, a secret ambition. But all she saw was sincerity. There was no calculated manipulation, no power-hungry intent in your eyes.

Her hand fluttered to her chest, her fingers absently tracing the fine embroidery of her gown. “I never thought… I never thought I’d be free from such burdens,” she whispered. “Not like this.”

You offered her a soft smile, a reassuring one. “Then let’s make this work in a way that brings you peace. I know that it might take time for you to believe that.”

She nodded slowly, as if the weight of your words was beginning to settle. And though she remained distant, there was a subtle shift—a crack in the walls she had built around herself. You didn’t want her to be caged, not even in the gilded prison of a marriage. You wanted her to feel free to breathe, to live her life on her own terms.

In the days that followed, your quiet respect for her space became apparent. She had come to your chambers less frequently, yet when she did, you never pressed her for anything more than conversation or companionship. The two of you would sit together, occasionally exchanging stories of the past, speaking of times before the chaos that had defined both your lives.

One afternoon, as the sun cast long shadows across the chamber, you and Alicent found yourselves engaged in a quiet conversation by the window. The room was filled with a soft, golden light, and for once, it felt peaceful—unnaturally so, in the midst of the court’s usual tumult.

“Do you ever miss it?” she asked, looking out at the gardens below, where the birds fluttered amongst the flowers.

“Miss what?” you asked, your gaze following hers.

“The life before all of this,” she said, her hand resting on the windowsill. “The days before the schemes, the plotting, the weight of responsibility.”

You leaned back against the wall, your gaze drifting to the same view she saw. “I miss the simplicity of it,” you admitted. “But I wouldn’t trade the peace I have now for it. The quiet moments like this. The stillness.”

Alicent was silent for a while, as though considering what you had said. Finally, she turned to face you, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “You find peace in the simplest of things, don’t you?”

“I try to,” you said softly. “It’s the only way to survive in a world like ours.”

She nodded, though her eyes were filled with an uncertainty that had yet to fully leave her. For years, she had been used to a life filled with turmoil, her mind constantly burdened with the weight of others’ expectations. To be here, in this moment, with a man who did not want to control her, who did not demand anything of her, was a strange feeling—one she had not yet fully understood.

In time, as the days passed, your actions proved your sincerity. You allowed her to breathe, to make her own choices, while still offering her the safety of your protection. You never pressured her, never tried to push her into a role she did not want. And with each passing day, the distance between you lessened, even if only by a fraction.

The Small Council meetings had become more tense ever since your marriage to Alicent. The lords who sat at the table were no fools—they knew the weight of such a union. Whispers circulated through the court that you could no longer be impartial, that your marriage to the widow of the late king would compromise your loyalty to Queen Rhaenyra.

One such meeting came to a head when Lord Corlys Velaryon, the Sea Snake, leaned forward across the table, his brow furrowed. "You have served the queen faithfully for many years, Hand," he began, his voice deep and steady, "but now you are bound to a Hightower. Can we be certain your loyalties remain with the crown, rather than the family that sought to usurp it?"

Eyes turned to you, waiting for your response. The room was heavy with unspoken accusations, but you met them head-on, calm and unflinching.

"My loyalty has always been, and will always remain, with Queen Rhaenyra and the realm," you replied, your voice steady but firm. "I did not marry Lady Alicent for ambition or power. I married her because it was the Queen’s will, to keep the peace and ensure stability. If anyone here doubts my impartiality, let me assure you—my actions have always been for the good of the realm, not for the ambitions of any one family, including my own."

Lord Corlys, while still sceptical, leaned back in his chair, considering your words. The others exchanged glances, but no further accusations were made. Still, you could feel the lingering doubt, the tension in the air. It was a challenge you would have to face repeatedly as long as your marriage remained a topic of interest.

After the meeting, Rhaenyra sought you out, her brow furrowed. "They are suspicious of you," she said quietly, her eyes searching yours for any sign of resentment.

"They have reason to be," you admitted, not denying the reality. "But I will not betray you, my Queen. My marriage to Alicent does not change that."

Rhaenyra smiled, though faintly, and nodded. "I believe you. And that is all that matters to me."

While the realm questioned your loyalty, another tension brewed between you and Alicent. Though you had grown closer, there were still moments when her insecurities resurfaced, especially regarding her role as your wife.

One night, as the two of you sat in your chambers, she turned to you, her voice quiet but strained. “Do you expect me to give you an heir?” she asked, her eyes fixed on the floor. “I know I am still of childbearing age. You must expect children from me.”

You looked at her, surprised by the question. “Alicent, I do not expect that of you,” you said softly, setting aside the parchment you had been reviewing. “I married you because it was necessary for peace, not because I desired heirs.”

She frowned, her brow furrowed. “Then what do you want from me?”

You sighed, stepping closer but keeping your tone gentle. “What I want is for you to feel free. If you wish to have children, then that is your choice, not mine. But if you do not, I will not hold it against you. I am content to leave my titles to others—your children, or perhaps my nieces and nephews. My duty is to the realm, and to you, as my wife. Not to some legacy of blood."

Her eyes softened, surprise evident in her expression. “You are… different,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Not like the men I’ve known before.”

You offered a small smile. “Is that a good thing?”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. It is.”

Over time, the relationship between you and Alicent deepened. Though it was not a marriage of passion, it became one of companionship. You spent evenings together, discussing matters of the realm or simply sharing stories from your past. Occasionally, she would speak of her children—her love for them, her fears for their futures—and you would listen, never judging, always offering comfort.

One evening, as you sat by the fire, Alicent glanced at you, her expression soft. “You’ve always been kind to me,” she said quietly. “Even when I didn’t expect it.”

You met her gaze, your voice gentle. “You deserve more than kindness, Alicent. You deserve peace. And if I can give you that, then I will.”

She smiled—a rare, genuine smile—and for the first time in many years, she felt a warmth she had long since thought lost. The heavy burden of her past was slowly lifting, thanks to the quiet strength and respect you had shown her.

As the months passed, Alicent grew more at ease in her new life. The tension between you eased, replaced by a mutual understanding and trust. She no longer feared manipulation or control, and you respected her autonomy in a way no man had before.

One afternoon, as you both walked through the gardens of the Red Keep, she turned to you with a soft smile. “I never thought I would find peace in marriage again,” she said, her voice light but sincere. “But with you… it feels different. It feels… free.”

You smiled in return, warmth filling your chest. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”

For the first time in years, Alicent felt as though she was no longer a pawn in someone else’s game. She was finally allowed to live her own life, with a man who valued her not for her name or her power, but for who she was.

And in that, she had found something she never thought possible—contentment. A new dawn had come, for both of you.

[aspenmissing]

Hiiiii!!! I requested the muscular girlfriend with arcane characters, and omg, I love it SO MUCH! Thank you so much for writing my request! Honestly, I was so nervous about submitting it that I considered not submitting it at all, but I'm so glad I did. I was wondering if I could make another request with all the same arcane characters with their muscular girlfriend again where she's just doing something she already does pretty regularly and doesn't think twice about it, but the characters find it like super attractive or they do something stupid and get hurt/get attacked or something and she protects/helps them even if they can do it themselves? I'm sorry if this is long, I got really amped up after reading the last post lol. I can't wait to read more of your work! 💜

ꜱᴛᴇᴇʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴜꜱᴄʟᴇ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ꜱᴘɪᴄᴇ-ɪꜱʜ || 5536 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴀᴛᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛᴇᴅ ᴀꜱꜱᴀꜱꜱɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ (ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ'ꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ) ꜱᴘɪᴄᴇ/ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ?/ꜰɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ/ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ (ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ'ꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ)

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏ!! ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ! ꜱᴏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ, ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴋᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ᴡᴇʟʟ! ɪ ᴀᴍ ꜱᴏ ɢʟᴀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴇᴅ ɪᴛ! ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴅᴏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀꜱ ᴍᴜᴄʜ!! ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ꜱᴏʀʀʏ, ɪꜰ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɪɴꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴀꜱ ɪᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴꜱ ɪ ɢᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ! <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ

JAYCE

The rhythmic clang of metal against wood echoed through the workshop as you swung your hammer down with practiced ease. Each strike drove thick iron nails deep into the beams, securing the frame of the latest project you were working on. The scent of sawdust mixed with the faint burn of heated steel, and the cool Piltover air brushed against your exposed arms, sending a shiver down your spine.

Jayce had come in with the excuse of checking on your work, but in reality, he hadn't taken his eyes off you since he'd arrived.

His arms were crossed, a smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned against the workbench. He was supposed to be handling some council affairs, but watching you in action was far more entertaining. The way your muscles flexed with every swing, the way your shoulders rolled, the sheer strength behind every movement—it had his full attention. Every precise motion sent a ripple of power through your frame, and Jayce found himself utterly captivated.

"You're staring," you said without looking up, setting another nail in place.

"Can you blame me?" Jayce’s voice was warm, tinged with admiration. "You make wielding that hammer look effortless."

With a snort, you lifted the hammer again, bringing it down in a powerful arc. The nail sank into the beam with one precise hit. Jayce had seen many strong workers in the forges, but there was something about watching you—his partner—that made his breath hitch every time.

"You always get this distracted when I'm working?" You straightened up, rolling your shoulders, and Jayce couldn't help but let his gaze trail down your arms, lingering on the way your veins subtly traced over taut muscle.

"Only when you look that good doing it," he teased, stepping closer. "I mean, come on, those arms? I think you might be stronger than me."

You huffed out a laugh, grabbing another nail and setting it in place. "Think? I know I am."

Jayce raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. "Oh yeah? Care to prove it?"

You paused, turning to face him fully. Your expression was equal parts amusement and challenge. Then, without a word, you flexed—just enough to make a point. The way your biceps tensed, the way your forearms corded with power—it was unfair, really. You knew exactly what you were doing to him.

Jayce let out a low whistle, rubbing the back of his neck. "Damn," he muttered. "You really know how to make a guy feel weak in the knees."

You leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "I thought you liked it."

Jayce chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, I love it."

Before you could react, he slid an arm around your waist, pulling you close. His lips brushed against your ear, voice dropping to a husky murmur. "But I think I need to test that strength firsthand."

You smirked, pressing a palm against his chest. "After I finish my work, golden boy."

Jayce groaned dramatically, but he didn't let go. "Fine, fine. But I'm cashing in on that test later."

"Hope you're ready to lose," you teased, but there was an undeniable glint in your eyes, a flicker of mischief.

Jayce let out a slow breath, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair. "You have no idea what you're doing to me right now."

You gave him an innocent shrug before turning back to your work, picking up your hammer once more. The next few swings were deliberately slower, controlled—giving him plenty of time to admire the way your muscles flexed and moved. Jayce swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the workbench as if grounding himself.

"You sure I can't distract you just a little?" He tried, stepping closer, voice taking on that smooth, persuasive tone.

You barely spared him a glance. "Jayce."

"What?" He grinned. "Just saying, if I had half the definition you do, I’d be walking around sleeveless all the time."

You sighed, rolling your eyes, but you couldn't fight the smirk creeping onto your lips. "You already do."

"Yeah, but it doesn't hit the same," he admitted, letting his fingers ghost over your forearm, marveling at the way the muscle shifted beneath his touch. "You're incredible, you know that?"

You exhaled through your nose, amused, before setting down your hammer and finally turning to face him again. "You just love stroking my ego, don’t you?"

Jayce tilted his head, looking you over with something unreadable—something warm and hungry all at once. "Among other things."

A spark of heat passed between you two, and for a brief moment, the workshop, the nails, and the hammer all faded into the background. It was just you and him, standing inches apart, the scent of metal and sawdust mingling with the charged air between you.

You narrowed your eyes playfully. "You keep distracting me like this, and I’m going to make you hold the beams while I work."

Jayce held up his hands in surrender, chuckling. "Okay, okay. I’ll behave... for now."

He stepped back, but his smirk lingered, eyes raking over you one last time before he finally—reluctantly—turned away.

But as he left, you had the distinct feeling that later, when you were done, Jayce would be very eager to put your strength to the test.

VIKTOR

The afternoon light spilled lazily over Piltover’s streets, casting long golden shadows on the cobblestone roads. The air was crisp but not too cold, the kind of weather that made walks through the city especially pleasant—at least, if one wasn’t relying on a cane that had seen better days.

Viktor had been walking beside you, his usual steady rhythm only slightly uneven, a sign that his leg was giving him more trouble than usual. His hand gripped the head of his cane firmly, but you noticed the way his fingers occasionally tensed, the slightest hitch in his step that he always tried to mask.

You had been mid-sentence—something about how the baker on the corner had finally agreed to stop skimping on the cinnamon in your favourite pastries—when the sharp sound of wood snapping made you freeze.

Viktor’s cane gave out beneath him.

His balance wavered for half a second before he caught himself, though his weight landed heavily on his bad leg. His face twisted, just slightly, as he muttered something in Czech under his breath, eyes flicking down to the now-useless piece of wood in his grasp.

“Ah,” he huffed out a breath. “It seems my faithful companion has abandoned me.”

You didn’t hesitate. Before he could attempt another step, you turned to him, already reaching for him with an ease that came naturally. “You’re not walking around without it.”

He tilted his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. “And what do you suggest, love? That I simply hover?”

You scoffed, already lowering yourself slightly to grab at his waist. “No, I’m carrying you.”

His amber eyes widened just slightly, that expression of quiet amusement laced with disbelief. “You can’t be serious—”

“Oh, I’m very serious.” You bent down fully, slipping an arm beneath his knees and another behind his back before he could even think of protesting. With practiced strength, you lifted him with ease, his weight settling against your chest as you adjusted your hold.

Viktor, stunned into momentary silence, blinked up at you. Then, a slow grin spread across his face.

“Hmm,” he mused, one arm looping around your shoulders as if testing the feeling of it. His fingers lightly traced over your upper arm, his touch lingering in a way that made you very aware of how he was admiring the definition of your muscles. “I must say, I should have broken that cane sooner.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the way warmth crept up your neck at the way he was quite literally making himself comfortable in your hold.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, adjusting him slightly as you continued walking as if carrying him weighed nothing. Because, to you, it really didn’t.

Viktor, however, just hummed, looking entirely too pleased with himself. His fingers gently ran along your collarbone before trailing down to your bicep, squeezing lightly as he let out an appreciative sigh.

“Ridiculous, perhaps,” he murmured, his voice a touch lower now, his breath warm against your skin, “but I do have exceptional taste.”

You groaned. “Viktor.”

“I’m merely appreciating the situation,” he continued, tilting his head slightly to look up at you. “Which, I might add, is quite pleasant from this vantage point.”

You huffed, adjusting your grip on him, but the truth was that you were trying very hard to ignore the way his words sent a flutter through your chest. You were used to Viktor’s teasing, but there was something in the way he was looking at you now—warm, content, utterly unbothered by the idea of being carried through Piltover—that made it clear he was enjoying this far too much.

“Alright, alright, I get it,” you muttered, but you didn’t put him down. In truth, you didn’t mind carrying him. You never minded. If it kept him from straining himself, if it kept him from pushing through pain just to keep up with everyone else, you’d carry him a thousand times over.

Viktor must have sensed the thought behind your silence, because his fingers found yours where they rested against his side. He gave them a small squeeze.

“I am lucky,” he murmured, softer this time.

You glanced down at him, your expression gentler now. “I’d say we both are.”

He smiled then, and for a moment, everything else—the broken cane, the stares from passers-by, the rest of the world—faded into the background.

And so, with Viktor securely in your arms, you kept walking, knowing that as long as he was with you, you’d gladly carry him anywhere.

JAYVIK

The workshop was a mess. Again.

Y/N exhaled through her nose, arms crossed over her chest as she took in the absolute disaster Jayce and Viktor had made of their shared lab. Gears scattered across the floor, blueprint papers pinned to the walls at odd angles, and—was that a scorch mark on the ceiling? What in the hell had they been doing?

She stepped over a pile of scrap metal, boots thudding against the floor with an authority neither of them could ignore. Jayce, the brilliant dumbass that he was, at least had the decency to look sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck. Viktor, on the other hand, merely arched a brow, his cane resting against his leg as he leaned against the worktable.

“I don’t suppose this is part of some new revolutionary discovery?” Y/N asked, gesturing at the chaos with a pointed look.

“Well, in theory, it was,” Jayce started, voice full of forced optimism.

Viktor snorted. “If by ‘revolutionary,’ you mean an explosion, then yes.”

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose. “You two are going to give me grey hairs.”

“Oh, come now, miláček,” Viktor drawled, pushing himself upright with his cane. “I am certain you find our antics endearing.” (Darling)

Jayce sidled up to her, resting an arm on her shoulder. “Besides, don’t pretend you don’t like playing the protective one.”

She could feel the heat of his body against hers, the sharp contrast to Viktor’s ever-calculating, playful smirk. They were trouble—two brilliant minds too stubborn for their own good. And unfortunately, she was helplessly in love with both of them.

“You mean I like making sure you don’t blow yourselves up,” she corrected, but the affection in her tone was obvious.

Viktor’s gaze flickered, following the roll of muscle in her arms as she reached up and easily plucked a heavy piece of metal from the top shelf—something he and Jayce usually struggled to grab together. The sight of her, effortlessly handling what would take both of them effort, made something flicker in his eyes. Something interested. Jayce, too, let out a low whistle, watching the way her biceps flexed with interest.

Y/N raised a brow as she turned, holding the metal in one hand. “Why are you two looking at me like that?”

Jayce grinned. “I don’t know, maybe because that was kinda hot?”

Viktor hummed in agreement. “Very hot.”

She huffed, amused. “You two are ridiculous.”

Jayce nudged her side. “Yeah, but you love us anyway.”

Viktor smirked. “And we love watching you do that.”

With an exaggerated groan, Y/N shook her head, but she couldn’t hide the way the corner of her lips quirked up. “You two are incorrigible.”

“And yet,” Viktor murmured, stepping just close enough to brush a hand against hers, his touch deliberate and slow, “you still choose to be with us.”

Jayce leaned in, his warmth pressing against her other side. “Lucky us.”

Y/N sighed, shaking her head as she gave Jayce’s shoulder a playful shove and Viktor a warning glance he entirely ignored. These two were impossible. But, truth be told, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Jayce chuckled, catching her wrist before she could move away. His grip was firm, but warm, grounding in a way that sent a pleasant hum through her veins. “We do appreciate you, you know,” he murmured, rubbing his thumb along her knuckles.

Viktor tilted his head, amber eyes gleaming with something softer beneath the teasing edge. “Yes, it seems we have a rather strong guardian angel watching over us.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Guardian angel? More like your glorified babysitter.”

Jayce grinned. “I mean, if our babysitter looks like you, I’m not complaining.”

Viktor sighed dramatically. “Yes, such a tragic fate to be under the watchful eye of someone so devastatingly beautiful and terrifyingly strong. How ever shall we survive?”

Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hand. “You two are impossible.”

Jayce leaned in to press a quick kiss to her temple, murmuring against her skin, “And yet, you adore us.”

Viktor followed suit, his lips ghosting over the back of her hand, his voice rich with amusement. “It is quite mutual, I assure you.”

She exhaled, shaking her head but smiling nonetheless. The workshop may have been a disaster, and her lovers may have been ridiculous, but in the end, they were hers. And that, at least, made everything worth it.

As if reading her thoughts, Viktor smirked. “Perhaps next time, we let you take charge of the experiment. After all, you do seem to enjoy keeping us in check.”

Jayce shot her a playful wink. “And we both know you love taking control.”

Y/N let out a dramatic sigh, but before either of them could react, she grabbed Jayce’s collar, pulling him down into a firm kiss that stole the breath from his lungs. His hands instinctively came to rest on her waist, gripping as if he needed to ground himself.

The moment she pulled away, Viktor was already chuckling, cane tapping lightly against the floor. “Mm, I do believe that was well-earned.”

She turned to him next, capturing his chin between her fingers as she leaned in, her lips brushing just barely over his. Viktor’s breath hitched, but he recovered quickly, tilting his head to close the space between them.

When she finally pulled back, she let her fingers trail over Viktor’s jaw and Jayce’s chest before stepping back entirely. “You two behave, or else I’ll have to find a better use for that cane of yours, Vik.”

Viktor’s brows lifted with interest, while Jayce let out a groan, raking a hand through his hair. “You can’t just say things like that and walk away.”

Y/N grinned, turning on her heel and heading for the door. “Watch me.”

The two men exchanged a glance, Jayce shaking his head with a smile, Viktor simply smirking to himself.

They were completely, utterly doomed. And they loved every second of it.

VANDER

The Last Drop was alive with its usual nightly chaos—mugs clinking, dice rolling, and a smoky haze curling above the crowd. Y/N wiped down the bar with ease, her muscular arms flexing with each pass, though most of the patrons were far too drunk to appreciate the sheer power in her frame.

Vander, leaning against the counter, watched her with that familiar smirk, the one he reserved just for her. "You keep cleaning that spot any harder, love, and you’re gonna wear the bar thin."

She shot him a grin. "Maybe if your regulars didn’t spill their drinks like children, I wouldn’t have to."

Vander chuckled, but before he could respond, the heavy doors of the bar slammed open.

A group of kids burst inside, wide-eyed and breathless—Powder, Mylo, and Claggor, their faces smudged with dust and panic.

"Vander! Y/N!" Powder's voice was shrill with fear. "We—we were exploring that old warehouse near the docks, and Vi—she got trapped! The whole place caved in!"

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her body tensing like a bowstring. Vander’s face darkened with concern, but before he could move, Y/N was already vaulting over the bar, the wood creaking under her weight.

"Where?" she demanded, her voice like steel.

"By the docks! Near the old factory!" Mylo stammered, pointing wildly.

That was all Y/N needed. She was out the door in an instant, her powerful legs propelling her forward in a full sprint.

=

The air was thick with smoke and dust as she reached the ruins of the collapsed warehouse, her pulse hammering in her ears.

"Vi!" she called, voice strong despite the panic clawing at her chest.

A faint, muffled cough answered her. "H-here!" Vi’s voice was strained, weak, and it sent a chill down Y/N’s spine.

Y/N's keen eyes locked onto the pile of broken beams and shattered stone. Vi was trapped underneath, one leg pinned, barely able to move. Her fingers dug into the dirt, trembling as she tried and failed to pull herself free. The debris shifted slightly, and she let out a sharp cry of pain.

Y/N dropped to her knees, fingers gripping the largest chunk of debris. It was heavy—far heavier than anything she’d lifted before. For a moment, it didn’t budge, the sheer weight of it resisting her strength. A growl of frustration ripped from her throat as she pushed harder, her arms and back straining.

"I-I can’t—" Vi’s voice wavered, panic creeping in. "Y/N, I’m scared!"

Y/N’s heart clenched painfully. "I got you, kid," she reassured, but the slab wouldn’t move, her fingers burning as she struggled against it.

Vi whimpered, a rare sound of helplessness from her. "Mom…!" she gasped in desperation, barely audible, but Y/N heard it. It was raw, instinctive—Vi’s mind reaching for the one person she believed could save her.

Something inside Y/N snapped.

A deep, primal force surged through her, burning through every ounce of fatigue. With a guttural roar, she pushed through the pain, muscles screaming as she lifted the debris just enough for Vi to scramble out, dragging herself across the ground before collapsing into Y/N’s arms.

The moment Vi was free, Y/N let the slab crash back down, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Without hesitation, she pulled Vi into a crushing embrace, her arms wrapped tightly around the girl’s small frame. Vi stiffened for only a moment before melting into the hug, clinging onto Y/N like a lifeline.

"You're safe," Y/N murmured into her hair, holding her close. "Thank god, you're safe."

Vi, still dazed and covered in dust, looked up at Y/N like she was some kind of deity. "You... you lifted that? Just like that?"

Y/N finally loosened her grip just enough to cup Vi’s face, checking her over with keen eyes. "What, think I’m just muscle for show?" she teased, though her voice was still thick with concern.

Vi let out a breathless laugh. "That was... so cool."

Before Y/N could respond, Vander arrived, skidding to a halt. His eyes darted over Vi first, concern etched deep into his features. He crouched beside her, hands hovering uncertainly before finally settling on her shoulders.

"Vi, you alright?" His voice was rough, but undeniably gentle as he checked her over.

Vi blinked up at him, still dazed. "Yeah... Y/N got me out."

Vander exhaled sharply, pulling Vi into a firm, protective embrace. "Scared the hell outta me, kid. You can't go getting yourself crushed, you hear me?"

Vi let out a tired chuckle, gripping the fabric of his vest. "I'll try."

Only after making sure Vi was steady did Vander turn to Y/N, his expression shifting from worry to something softer—something full of gratitude and admiration. He reached for her, cupping her face with rough, calloused hands.

"You alright?" he asked, voice quieter now.

Y/N huffed out a tired laugh, leaning slightly into his touch. "Yeah. Just another night at the Last Drop, huh?"

Vander let out a relieved chuckle, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. "I dunno what I’d do without you, love."

Vi, still looking up at Y/N with something akin to hero worship, nodded. "Me neither."

Y/N smirked, but then her eyes fell to Vi’s leg, still half-covered in dust and looking slightly twisted. Without a second thought, she scooped Vi up into her arms like she weighed nothing, earning a startled yelp from the girl.

"Hey! I can walk—"

"Not on that leg, you can’t," Y/N shot back, tightening her grip and adjusting Vi against her chest. "You're hurt, and I’m not about to let you limp your way back."

Vi, clearly flustered but secretly enjoying being carried, crossed her arms with a grumble but didn't protest further. Powder and the others ran ahead, leading the way back to the Last Drop while Vander kept pace beside Y/N, shaking his head with a soft chuckle.

"You know," he murmured, glancing at Vi, who had started to nod off in Y/N’s arms. "I think she just found herself a new role model."

Y/N smirked, shifting Vi slightly so the girl’s head rested against her shoulder. "Guess that makes two of us, then."

Vander let out a low chuckle, draping an arm around Y/N’s back as they walked. "Yeah. Seems like we’re stuck with you, huh?"

Y/N just smiled, cradling Vi a little closer. "Wouldn’t have it any other way."

SILCO

Silco’s office was dimly lit, the glow of his cigar casting long shadows across the mahogany desk. The scent of smoke and whiskey hung in the air, clinging to the fabric of his vest. Papers were scattered before him, numbers and names written in careful ink, but his focus was elsewhere.

Across from him sat a man—a supplier, a nervous one. His fingers twitched against the worn wood, his knee bouncing in barely contained anxiety. He was lying. Y/N could see it in the way his eyes flicked from side to side, in the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips every few sentences.

She leaned against the armrest of Silco’s chair, her posture deceptively relaxed. To the untrained eye, she looked like nothing more than a lounging companion, a woman draped in dark fabric with an air of confidence that bordered on lazy.

But those who knew her—truly knew her—understood the reality beneath the surface.

Silco did.

That’s why she was here. His queen. His shield.

The conversation dragged on, words filling the space between them like smoke curling in the air. The supplier spoke in rushed assurances, promising shipments, promising loyalty, promising things he could not possibly deliver. Silco remained impassive, letting the man weave his own noose with every poorly chosen word.

And then Y/N caught it. The tell.

A slight shift. A twitch of the fingers. The careful way his hand dipped toward his pocket, as if he were merely adjusting his coat. But Y/N wasn’t fooled.

A glint of steel.

He was fast.

She was faster.

The knife had barely left his pocket before Y/N caught his wrist mid-air, fingers locking around it with effortless ease. The blade hovered inches from Silco’s chest, trembling. The supplier’s breath hitched, his eyes wide in disbelief.

Silco, not even looking up, exhaled a long plume of smoke. "Hmph. I see you’ve made a poor decision."

Y/N’s grip remained steady, her expression unreadable as she squeezed just enough for the man’s knuckles to turn white. She could feel his pulse pounding beneath her fingertips, the rush of panic setting in.

She stood fluidly, the motion smooth as silk, and with an effortless twist, she wrenched his arm behind his back. The movement was clinical, precise—like handling a fragile object she didn’t particularly care for. The man gasped, his cheek slamming against the desk as his knuckles scraped the rough wood. The knife clattered uselessly from his grip.

"Fuck—!" His voice broke as she applied a touch more pressure, testing. He groaned in pain, his free hand clawing at the surface. "W-Wait—!"

Y/N leaned down, her lips close to his ear, voice softer than it had any right to be. "You thought you could kill him?" A pause, letting the weight of his failure sink in. "In front of me?"

She flexed her fingers just slightly, and the man howled.

Silco finally glanced up, his mismatched eyes flicking from the trembling fool to Y/N. Amusement curled at the corner of his lips. "You’re enjoying yourself."

"Maybe." Y/N tilted her head, rolling her shoulders as if the whole thing was barely worth the effort. "You want him dead?"

Silco sighed, tapping ash from his cigar into the tray beside him. "Not just yet. He still owes me."

"Shame." Her voice was velvet-soft, but the glint in her eyes was sharp. She leaned in further, her lips ghosting over the man’s ear. "You’re lucky he’s feeling generous."

With a final shove, she released him. He crumpled to the floor in a pathetic heap, cradling his arm as he gasped for breath.

Silco regarded him like one would a stain on their boot. "Crawl out of my office," he said, voice smooth, calm. "Don’t make me rethink my mercy."

The man scrambled to his feet, stumbling over himself in his desperate need to escape. He clutched his injured arm, his face twisted in pain as he all but bolted for the door. It slammed shut behind him.

Silco exhaled, leaning back in his chair as he studied Y/N. She flexed her fingers absently, like she’d just brushed dust from her hands. As if the entire thing had been a mild inconvenience.

His lips quirked. "I do love it when you make a mess of my furniture."

Y/N smirked, rolling out the tension in her shoulders. "You knew he had a knife."

"Of course." He swirled the whiskey in his glass, watching the amber liquid catch the dim light. "But I do prefer watching you handle things."

She chuckled, stepping behind his chair and resting her hands on his shoulders. Her fingers pressed into the fabric of his vest, kneading the tension there with slow, deliberate movements.

"And here I thought you kept me around for my charm," she mused.

Silco reached up, catching her hand in his. He turned it over, brushing his lips against her knuckles, the touch lingering. "That too, my dear," he murmured, smirking against her skin. "That too."

SEVIKA

The Last Drop was alive tonight. The air was thick with smoke, the scent of alcohol and sweat mingling with the dim lighting of the bar. Laughter and curses filled the space, the usual rowdy chaos of a Zaunite evening.

Sevika sat at her usual spot, a thick glass of whiskey in hand. Her mechanical arm rested against the table, fingers tapping absentmindedly against the wood as she smirked at the woman beside her.

Y/N leaned back against the booth, arms crossed, muscles flexing subtly beneath the fabric of her sleeveless top. She was just another soul carved from the rough edges of Zaun. Strong, confident, a presence that turned heads without her even trying. But tonight? She was here to drink, unwind, and enjoy Sevika’s company.

"You keep lookin’ at me like that," Y/N muttered, lifting her own drink to her lips, "I might think you want somethin’."

Sevika exhaled a slow stream of smoke from the cigar perched between her lips. "What, can't admire my woman?"

Y/N rolled her eyes, but a smirk tugged at her lips. "You can. Just don’t get distracted. We’re still in Zaun, after all."

Sevika snorted, about to retort—when the telltale sound of a bottle shattering against the floor cut through the noise.

The bar fell into a brief, tense silence before everything erupted.

Some idiot had thrown the first punch. Another shoved a table over. A fight broke out like wildfire—fists flying, bottles smashing, chairs crashing against bodies.

Y/N sighed and knocked back the rest of her drink. "Godsdammit. I liked this shirt."

"Then don’t get blood on it," Sevika quipped, already rising to her feet as a burly man lunged toward her.

She sidestepped, slamming her metal fist into his jaw with a sickening crack before turning to Y/N, who had already caught another thug’s punch in her palm.

Y/N grinned, her biceps flexing as she yanked the poor bastard closer, driving her knee into his stomach before tossing him over the bar like a ragdoll.

Sevika whistled, impressed. "Shit, I love it when you do that."

"You love everything I do," Y/N shot back, already ducking under a wild swing before landing an uppercut that sent another man stumbling back.

"Can you blame me?" Sevika smirked, knocking a chair out of her way before elbowing a man in the ribs hard enough to make him wheeze.

Y/N’s attention was pulled elsewhere when a particularly massive thug—built like a Shimmer-pumped brute—charged at her, arms raised to crush her. She met him head-on, stepping into his swing and catching his arm midair before twisting it behind his back.

"Damn, you’re strong," Sevika murmured, watching Y/N handle him with ease.

Y/N winked. "Jealous?"

"Nah," Sevika grunted, dodging a wild swing from another brawler. "Just turned on."

Y/N laughed, sweeping her opponent’s legs out from under him before slamming her boot into his stomach to keep him down.

=

A knife-wielding thug tried his luck, slashing at Y/N’s arm and drawing a thin line of blood. She barely spared it a glance before grabbing his wrist, twisting it until the knife clattered to the ground.

"That all you got?" she taunted before throwing him headfirst into a broken chair.

Sevika chuckled, sending another man flying with a well-placed punch. "You’re so fucking hot when you fight."

Y/N smirked. "So are you, babe. That thing with the chair just now?" She whistled. "Real sexy."

Sevika snorted, wiping blood from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. "You keep talkin’ like that, I might just have to take you home early."

=

A bottle came flying toward Sevika’s back, but Y/N caught it midair, flipping it once before smashing it over the head of the poor bastard who threw it.

Sevika turned, brows raised in approval. "Nice reflexes."

Y/N blew her a kiss. "I’ve been told I’m pretty quick with my hands."

Sevika smirked, her gaze dropping just briefly. "Oh, I know you are."

Y/N laughed before sending a roundhouse kick into the last standing thug, knocking him flat onto the floor.

The fight didn’t last much longer. One by one, their attackers groaned on the ground, battered and bruised, some unconscious.

Sevika wiped blood from her split lip, looking over at Y/N, who had a fresh bruise blooming across her jaw and a few cuts decorating her arms.

"Not bad," Sevika murmured, eyeing the damage they’d both taken.

Y/N rolled her shoulder, cracking her neck with a wince. "I could say the same for you."

Sevika took a step closer, lifting her chin to get a better look at the bruises on Y/N’s jaw. Her fingers—warm, rough, and teasingly gentle—traced the fresh mark. "Shame," she mused, "you’ve got such a pretty face."

Y/N smirked. "You should see the other guy."

Sevika chuckled, pulling her hand back, though not before giving Y/N’s bicep an appreciative squeeze. "I do love these arms, though."

"You say that every time I fight," Y/N said, tilting her head.

Sevika shrugged. "And I’ll keep sayin’ it."

Silco’s men started clearing the mess, dragging out the unfortunate souls who had picked the wrong bar to cause trouble in.

With the dust settled, Sevika let out a satisfied exhale and reached for her cigar again. "So, you still mad about your shirt?"

Y/N looked down at the blood and dirt staining the fabric before shaking her head with a chuckle. "Nah, you’ll just owe me a new one."

Sevika smirked. "Fine. But you’ll have to take this one off first."

Y/N arched a brow, lips curling into a smirk. "You really can’t help yourself, can you?"

Sevika shrugged, lighting her cigar. "Nope."

Y/N laughed, throwing an arm around Sevika’s shoulders as they made their way back to the bar, ready for another round. Just another night in Zaun.

[bunny-jpeg]

Hey bunny please can I get some Belgian waffles with a mince pie and a lemon slice with a margarita and a espresso shot (with Ghost) Ps: you’re one of the best COD smut writers fr

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! i accept for all kinds of fandoms, so please don't hesitate to check it out! thank you! as for this lovely anon, thank you for the submission!

belgian waffles ("i cum in that every night.") + mince pie ("i'm not jealous.") + lemon slice ("i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making.") + margarita (unprotected sex) + espresso shot (dirty talking) served by simon "ghost" riley (call of duty)!!

cw: smut/pwp, unprotected sex, jealousy, dirty talking, possessive!simon, creampies, wife!reader, (semi)dom!reader, cowgirl position. mentions of cheesecake

simon loved his missus. oh, there was no other woman quite like you. you and simon had be married for two years now and he still hadn't got tired of you. when you laughed, he smiled. something he thought he'd never do after the life of suffering he had. he believed his heart still beat because you loved the sound of it.

you were his wife, the lovely mrs. riley. and it took years of suffering for simon to realize that if he loved something. he had to hold is close. and with you, you were the closest to him.

which was why he was a little protective over you.

"simon james riley." you said with your arms crossed, "you are the most possessive man in all of this country. hell, maybe this entire continent! and don't think a cheesecake is going to make it all up to me."

simon slumped his shoulders a little, "love, please."

you crossed your arms tighter and eyed your husband, "simon. you told my male co-worker, quote, 'i cum in that every night'. you jealous fuck!" you threw your arms up.

simon attempted to defend himself by saying, "i'm not jealous.", he was a ghost on the battlefield. he handled more dangerous missions than the average special-ops soldier. he was battled bruised and scarred. but yet, under your stern gaze, he felt very human. where most assumed that the hulking size of mister riley meant he wore the pants in the relationship, it was quite the opposite, mrs. riley was the head of the house.

"simon. please. you know that i love you more than there are drops of water in the ocean." you dropped your arms, it was impossible for you to stay mad at him forever. he was your beloved husband. you got closer to him on the couch and dropped into his wide lap and took his square jaw in your delicate hands, "there's no need to get possessive of me."

he sighed and wrapped his strong arms around you. you held onto his face and guided it to yours. you kissed him on the lips and he eagerly kissed back. when he pulled him he cuddled you closer in his grasp and said, "it's not. it's them. i've seen every shade in a man. if somethin' happened to ya, love. i'd never be the same. i'd be a real ghost then."

"then don't make me send you to the afterlife because you keep telling people how much you finish in me." you said, shaking your fist at him. it wasn't totally serious, but it also wasn't totally joking. you knew simon worried, there was a reason you had your location on all the time when you went out.

you knew your husband had seen so much hurt in the world. the kind of pain that you couldn't wrap your head around. you had seen the scars from his father, caked into his skin. jagged and rough. even though they were buried under tattoos, you could still make them out. your husband's life had been rough, so you couldn't stay mad forever.

you placed your hands on his broad chest then gripped onto the front of his well loved navy blue shirt. you leaned towards him and gave him another kiss, "thank you though." you had to admit.

he raised an eyebrow and looked at you curiously. you were about to bite his head off and now you were thanking him?

"for wanting to protect me. i know it's only second nature for you." you patted his chest before you got up from his lap. you held out your hand to him, so small compared to his, "i know you love me, simon. even when you drive me up the wall with your... brash comments." you slumped your shoulders a little, "it feels nice to know that someone out there loves me."

he got up and took your hand. his hands were so rough and dry. they were like polar bear paws compared to yours. then again most things on him were bigger compared to you. he pulled you close to him and wrapped a strong arm around your waist. he looked down at you said said, "anythin' for you, lovie. you're my wife. i made that promise to ya, and i intend to keep it. don't like liars and men who don't look after their women." then let you out of his grasp to lead you to the bedroom.

you gave him a slight push onto the bed and he was already taking his shirt off. there was something about your husband being dominant that was a turn on. but, sometimes you wanted that control. and simon was more than happy to hand it over. like as he got undressed without you even having to ask. his strong body was exposed to you from his thick tattooed arms, to his dirty blond happy trail, to thighs that could crack someone's neck. he was so physically imposing compared to you. but you held his invisible chain.

you stood there with your hands at your hips, feeling simons' gaze along your body. you asked him, "are you going to be a good boy for me, si? be the boy i know you can be."

you watched that thick neck swallow and his cock stand a full mast. you giggled, the answered your question. you felt his gaze intensify on you as you undressed. exposing your curves to the man you married. you heard him shift on your squeaky bed.

once nude, you got into bed and straddled your husband's waist. he laid back onto the bed and watched you get on top of him. your pussy rubbed against his hard cock and you let out a soft noise. but when you sank down on his impressive length, he was the one making all the noises.

"shit, love. holy fuck. shit! shit!" he groaned as he buried his hands into your hips. not enough to harm you, but enough to feel closer to you. his words were silenced by your lips, tender and sweet against his.

"i'm sorry, what was that, si? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making." you giggled, lips close to his. he could feel the jump in his pulse. you took him in for another kiss and moved your hips against his. his cock hit in all the right areas and it made him pant heavily.

his eyes could've rolled back into his head, "nothin', love. i'm sorry. i'm sorry for scarin' off your co-worker. i just, i just want to make sure you keep bein' my woman. my life."

you took a hold of his face as you moved up and down on his cock. you peppered his face with kisses as you moved, going across every scar on the flesh.

you moved against him, the friction made him see stars. oh, you were perfect. even with your size difference, you still took him so well. he was honoured in all honesty. you worked so hard, he remembered having to give you the dimensions of his cock so you could find a toy close enough to its size to practice on. while that wasn't a story told at your wedding, it did get him through a lonely two weeks in austria. knowing you were back home riding silicone to make yourself better for him (as if you weren't perfect).

he held onto your hips and let you work against him. he could feel the pounding in his chest at the sight of you. and you were the same way. you placed your hands on either side of his wide chest and moved up and down his cock.

big scary man reduced to pathetic moans and soft words by his wife's body. it would be cute if it wasn't so pathetic.

"see what happens when you're a good boy, simon? you get all this and more. your wife's pretty cunt. i know you drool for it every day. kick off those boots, get out of your mask and starting hunting to get a taste of me." you purred in his ear. it made him feel fuzzy all over.

you felt your heartbeat in your throat as you kept moving. you clutched onto the covers and really put your back into it. his cock hit so perfectly, it made you see star behinds your eyelids.

it felt so, so good. it lit a fire in you to make you two reach your orgasms. he watched your body work with him, rutting against him. it left warmth in your belly, and pooled into your limbs.

"i love you." you said.

"i love you too. fuck i love ya." he groaned as he felt the shudder of pleasure through his body.

such a rough man that would fold so easily for you. you rose and dropped your hips at a quicker pace. simon's pants were heavy as he watched you climax. as you arched your back and gasped into the air. your body went tense and it made simon finish inside of you.

cumming in your pussy settled a beast in simon's blood. that he had marked his beloved from the inside. it made a little something rise him that was settled when you slowed to a stop and rested your head against his shoulder. his cock was semi-hard and still nestled inside of you. you sighed contently.

"you are the most possessive man in this country, si."

he wrapped his arms around you as you let your bodies cool down. both breathing heavily from the after shivers of pleasure. he said softly, "yeah, love. but, only because you're my whole world. only a fuckin' idiot would lose you."

you looked up at your husband and kissed him on the lips, "well then, mister riley. i think there is an apology cheesecake in the fridge waiting for us. or at least me, since you bought it for me." it had slipped your mind earlier, but now you craved something sweet.

simon cupped your ass for a moment before he kissed you. anything for his loving missus. the woman of his life <3

[brattyspence]

submitting an order for the cafe! plain bagel + Would You Love Me Again from the Epic Musical with reader seeing Spencer for the first time after being released from prison? thank you in advance <33

order #3 | join my event and submit an order here

a/n: this song is insane i've never heard it before but the lyrics are sooooo post prison spencer thank you for letting this into my life anon! this got lengthy and i rlly wanted to write even more but i have 16 requests lmfaooo

tags: post-prison!spencer, marital strain, uuuggghh

Spencer has never been one to hesitate with you.

He’s loud about love, weirdly. He has no problem being outward about it, not when it means telling the world that he's lucky enough to have you, especially as his wife.

The entirely of his three months in prison felt like decades. You had grown used to a constant love, one that was always reassuring and consistent. Spencer was available to you at any given moment, just a call away, but the sudden change was even harder than you assumed it would have been.

He had seemingly stopped to connect. Daily phone calls began to grow further and further apart, until they stopped suddenly. Nothing had happened, no fighting or upset, but the weight of situation had finally caused something to give.

Now, standing in the office on wobbly feet, you couldn't help but worry about why. What had gone so wrong that he could no longer turn to you for anything? Or worse, was there even hope for your marriage after the months of strain?

When the door to the office finally opens, you're not met with the same man you once loved. He's different. He's leaned out, stress wears on his face, and his eyes tell a story that you're not sure you're ready to be faced with. You can tell someone put effort into attempting to piece him back together, as he's wearing his own clothes. As much as it hurts to know that the person who showed up for him first wasn't you, you can't be bothered by it. Not when he's here, standing within reach, for the first time.

There is no handbook for how to manage a situation like this. The only logical thing you can think of is to hold him to confirm his existence. So you do.

You can hear the slight hitch of his breath as you close the gap between you, your arms finding his body like everything is normal. You can feel every little change in him like this; the tension in his shoulders and the hesitation in his touch.

It doesn't cross your mind that your embrace is unwelcome, but you can't seem to care.

“Hi,” you whisper. The sound is muffled by layers of fabric and skin and collarbones, but it's there. It reaches him without the barrier of a phone.

“Hi,” he replies. “I’m sorry.”

The words are weighty. You're not sure what to do with them, but they don't mean any less because of it.

“It's okay,” you nod. “It doesn't matter. We can just… go home.”

He pulls away, and you finally get a good look at him again, every detail coming back to you like he never left. You can see the words forming in his mind.

“What?” You ask.

When you make an attempt to reach out again, this time with a hand to his face, you're swiftly denied contact. He captures your hand in his, instead holding it somewhere in mid air before letting it go.

“I don't…” he shakes his head. “I didn't call. I wasn't good to you.”

“It's okay. You had good reason.”

“But I didn't,” he protests. “It wasn't right. That's not… what I promised you.”

“Spencer,” you sigh. “It's over. I don't care.”

“But I do,” he sighs.

“I know who you are,” you reply. “It's okay. We had a rough few months. But things will get back to normal.”

He holds your gaze, as you hold his.

“I'm not sure we can.”

“Why wouldn't we?”

He opens his mouth, hesitating to explain.

“I just… I'm not the person you married.”

“Spencer.”

“Don't,” he huffs. “I did things that… weren't right. Weren't me.”

“And that's expected under the circumstances,” you say. “But I married you. In all forms and conditions. No matter what the cost was.”

He swallows thickly. This time, when you reach for him, he doesn't immediately resist. He allows you to take his face in your hands hesitantly, narrowed eyes still searching for doubt.

“Okay,” he nods.

“Good. Now come home,” you sigh.

The only response you get this time is the warmth of his hands on your sides, finally allowing himself to pull you back in once again.

[nightscythe]

the primarchs as dom/sub

sorry if this has been done before, I just couldn't get it out of my head. based this on my more dark view of the lore/universe and how I write them. there is a secret third (sixth?) option, vanilla.

nsfw, 18+ below the cut. mostly pre-heresy

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

the lion: dom. top of the charts. in his everyone is there to serve him, and you are no different. into all that humiliation and degradation, thoroughly enjoys the way you writhe under him and beg him so desperately. he'll hold your face towards him and ask you if you really deserve him in that way. makes you beg until you're crying. he just looks at you lovingly and finally gives you what you want, not before he makes it agonisingly slow for you. will still please you just to prove a point and he's surprisingly good at it, especially with his huge hands and his tongue. loves you deep down, but truly believes its his place to be above you and telling you what to do. gets you to clean him up afterwards and maybe lets you lay with him.

fulgrim: switch. it's too easy to say he's into everything, but I do believe he would try everything at least once, and is happy to indulge anything he likes. sometimes that's putting a collar on you and admiring his view as he tells you step by step what you'll be doing next. sometimes it's being held down to the bed with the softest of ribbons as you pour hot wax over his chest. he wants to explore what there is to offer and if you're open to it, so is he. so that does mean odd things as well, unexpected little kinks and treats along the way. admires the marks left on both your skin and his, as long as its not permanent.

perturabo: soft dom. doesn't like giving up his control to you, but doesn't reach the hard limits of dominating you fully. his touch is soft and his words and commanding, but only because he is usually like that. probably prefers to not treat you like another one of his men behind closed doors... but still doesn't want you telling him what to do. most probably tried it once and hated it (secretly didn't mind it but he struggles with actually acting submissive, as much as he wanted to be babied some more). there's not many kind words, just pulling your hair where he wants you, grunting as a return of satisfaction, pushing your face into the mattress but giving you enough room to breathe. its a personality thing, really.

the khan: soft dom. he would explore with you, try many things to understand what they are and how they feel, but ultimately he wants to take care of you. the natural result of that is someone who's stroking your cheek and hushing away the tears as you choke on his cock for the seventh minute straight. calls you his baby (or like, something equivalent) as he watches you use him to get yourself off, whimpering and moaning his name, something which genuinely warms him. can make any day better for you, loves to whisper to you how much he cares for you, loves to make you forget anything bad happened with those hands and fingers of his. tucks you in afterwards, protects you with his whole being. aww.

leman: vanilla. my most controversial take. my feeling is he craves connection and someone who understands him, and he's a passionate lover. that isn't to say he wouldn't try being dominant or submissive (probably the latter less so) but his preference is vanilla. something pure filled with emotions. he's so caught up in the moment that he doesn't have time to stop and thinking about telling you to what to do and how to do it. he just goes with whatever happens. maybe externally he puts on a gruff and domineering persona but actually, that doesn't matter to him. he just wants to see you happy and whatever that takes he will do - so he'd happily try any of the kink stuff you wanted. just don't expect him to want to be called daddy/master/etc or submit to you.

dorn: switch. thought about him being vanilla but I don't think he would be. its an interesting world to explore. he's perceptive to whatever you need, but understands that one person has to take a submissive role, and one person a dominant role. maybe that goes to extremes sometimes and he's telling you to call him sir, or he's presenting himself to you tied up (because you may have enjoyed that), but mostly its just the soft things. likes it either way and lets you take control most of the time. only thing he's precious about is giving head, he will always do that in the most submissive way, like he's feasting on nectar from the gods, blessed with each move of his tongue. an interesting experience, to say the least.

curze: soft dom. thinks it is his place to be in control but isn't precious about it like some of his brothers. not as gentle or as caring as he could be during sex but he certainly takes the lead and has something to show about it. wraps his fingers around your neck, holds your hands down against the bed so you can't move, leaves bite after bite over your neck and chest until you're covered in a reminder that you are his. in the same vein, quite possessive, and his more dominant tendencies seem to come out of that is threatened. would probably overstimulate you to let out his frustrations and remind you again that you are his. greedy is the word. wants all of you, to himself, forever and ever. kinks is a different story, but is holding your head underwater until you cum a really dominant thing..?

sanguinius: sub. sorry but like, the first ever thing I thought about with him was calling him a good boy. a very soft lover in general, he lets you take control and thrives off being told how well he is doing, that he's the one who makes you feel this good. isn't afraid to whimper for you, lay down all his strength just so you can tie his pretty arms to the frame of a bed and stroke him over and over again until he begs for it. endures it all just so he can see you ride him. lets you push him around test him. oh, he loves it when you tease him. cockwarming. rubbing him through his clothes. whispering to him that he needs to wait, but doing everything in your power to make him cum there and then? would do absolutely anything for you.

ferrus: soft dom. a bit vanilla at first, with actions and feelings not being his strongest selling point. a man of practicalities seeks to understand everything about you and learn your interests. but of course strength and perfection is key to him. everything he does is dominant. it starts with seeking you out, pushing you against the wall, lips ghosting your ear as you feel how much he needs you. the smirk when he feels how wet you are from just... the thought of him. every movement is precise, and equally intense. you feel all of him, and he makes sure you understand that he is in control here. making up with him in this manner may result in more dominant, hot tempered moments, telling you exactly what he's going to do, and you're going to like.

angron: vanilla. maybe a bit controversial as well. was thinking soft dom but then changed my mind, he's just naturally imposing and domineering but not dominant. when he had the capability to understand love and relationships in that way, I feel it was very personal to him. he wanted to feel the truth, not arbitrary words of praise or command. so therefore it does not steer in a particularly dominant or submission direction for either of you, it's a moment of you being truly together. probably the least kinky as well imo. as time progresses it becomes more feral, more of an untamed desire, which is still unmatched to either side. personality wise he is probably more dominant though so take that as you will.

guilliman: soft sub. but like close to vanilla. he doesn't need to be told what to do or pushed around, but just a little guidance. someone to kneel beside him, stroke him slowly, maybe play around with him to test his limits, really learn to understand him. very eager to please you especially when he's between your legs looking up at you with his eyes wet and eyes devious. just tell him he did well, you enjoyed it. makes him come back for more. almost a bit timid, afraid he may hurt you in some way, shy as well. of course by the time he is resurrected he's just baby boy™ but also a regent so the second he has some time away from, you know, being the regent, he just wants forget everything else going on and get lost in you.

mortarion: dom. how could he be anything else? at first its just letting out his frustrations but then it's something more. primal. there's no maybes with him, no suggestions. he tells you what to do and you do it. sometimes he would be a bit softer, but its rare and usually when he's tired or his mind is elsewhere. he's in control of everything, he tells you when you can cum, he tells you when you can move, and god forbid you don't listen to him. if he hasn't given you permission well... its a week of edging and desperation for you. likes seeing you helpless before him. but when it's all finished and his needs are dealt with, he's got his arms around you and he won't let go. a weird way of registering his feelings.

magnus: switch. thought about this one too long. sometimes he'd love to be cared for, have his hair stroked as you praise him. other times, he's got you up against a wall and using all that size to his advantage. kind of like exploring what their is to offer, but his preferences do not lean towards dom or sub individually, maybe just a very small amount towards sub because he feels utterly useless without being told just how well he is doing. doesn't mean he's not smug about it when he finds you alone thinking about it. that's when his more dominant side comes out. if we are talking about demon form though it's definitely dom all the time.

horus: soft dom. it's not that he can't be fully dominant. he can. but why do it when he can be taken care of with soft kisses and making you happy too? hence the soft bit. likes to watch with his hand in your hair as you suck him off. tells you to take a little more of him and softly encourages you, never forces you. it's like a subtle hint, one you will get, or he'll just add a touch more dominance for show. discovers the daddy kink by accident and is fascinated with it. show daddy what a good girl you've been. holds your hands down as he's behind you. praises you gently and rewards you for small things during the day. probably loves going down on you as well as a reward for bigger things. but he'd never take it too far, he just enjoys the simpler things.

lorgar: sub. so eager to please. wants to be rewarded. he'd be on his knees for days if you'd let him, begging, wanting a small taste. even just your scent makes him hard. would wait for your command to do anything - touch himself, touch you, etcetc. whines and whimpers until you finally let him cum each time. at first its seems like he hates it but he does very much like it. any time you don't tell him what to do he looks lost and needs your guidance. based on this he would always let you be on top and especially likes it when he can look at you and worship you. every part of your body is divine to him. any time you're apart he's thinking of you and wondering when he will next get to hear your voice command him around. whipped.

vulkan: soft dom. super protective of you and isn't afraid to show it. has you take about your day as he goes down on you. tells you not to stop and looks to you curiously when you can't get your words out straight. is always so gentle though he could never reach the level of dominance like some of his brothers, its barely even soft dom - it's gentle, passionate, but every single one of his movements means something. tells you how well you are doing as you take his whole length and holds you close. likes hearing every sound you make and still asks permission to do everything, uttering things like may I? as his lips and tongue finds your body. really cautious of hurting you.

corax: dom. nothing soft about him. maybe to everyone else he looks like he would not value anything physical, but really, he's an absolute...menace? has you over his knee letting out his frustrations one spank at a time. likes it when you cry his name. rubs you through your clothes and laughs when you're an overstimulated mess on the floor. master/slave dynamic at some points. and it feels like it goes on and on for hours with him, he plays out fantasies in his head, has you on your knees then in his lap making you watch in the mirror as you cry and beg. but afterwards he would clean you up every time and fall asleep with you between his arms because he's quietly, and a lot less obviously, devoted to you too.

alpharius: soft sub. though he could be anything. i like to think one twin is soft sub and one is soft dom, which would technically make the single entity a switch. is it too late to change? considering I see him as a bit of a yandere it may be a bit of a surprise, but his darker side is outside the bedroom. inside, he is sweet and innocent, he's begging for praise and to be held. has you straddling his lap with your fingers in his mouth making him wait patiently for you to be ready to actually please him. handsy, touches you everywhere, barely contains himself around you. you'd get suspicious when he tells you to stop, throws you onto the mattress and takes you from behind... but hey, they don't know what each other are like. daydreams about you though. has a little notebook with hearts around your name but no one can see it.

˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗

I know not everyone will agree but I hope I at least made you think!!

[yasministration]

something cute with neville please? like an awkward crush moment in class?

Kiss and Tell - Neville Longbottom

Also I didn't make this an in class thing but yas... Gryffindor!Reader

You knew Neville liked you. So did all your friends. In fact, pretty much everyone who crossed paths with you or Neville knew he liked you. But for his sake, such as your own, you never mentioned it, instead enjoying the attention he gave you and giving him soft smiles before quickly turning away from him so he couldn't see you internally panic, all your blood rushing to your face.

Despite both being Gryffindors though, you almost never encountered each other in the common room, often being separated by your different friend groups, or spending the night differently. It just so happened that on nights you had Quidditch practice, Neville would be in the common room, but when you were free, he was no where in sight. Thus, when you stumbled down to the common room late at night to finish your herbology essay, you were shocked to see Neville, sitting by the fireplace with his friends.

Other than the group of dorm mates laughing quietly, the common room was mostly empty, excluding a few 7th year students who widely intimidated you. You rushed to the long table next to the bookshelves, searching for the herbology book you'd purposefully left there the night before in hopes of encouraging you to get your work done. You had been unsuccessful. Finally laying your eyes on the thick textbook, you sighed, slumping down on one of the heavy, uncomfortable, wooden chairs at the very corner of the table.

Rubbing at your temples, you predicted how the night would go; you'd sloppily write one paragraph before your eyes would start to wander around, another hour passing by before you'd realise that you hadn't written enough for a full essay, but would half-ass a conclusion anyway so you could at least submit something. Oh, well. You scoffed at yourself, picking up your quill. This is unsurprising. After writing about a paragraph and a half, you're essentially copying down the words from the textbook blindly, leaning your head on your free hand.

"Y/N?" Your head snaps up and you inhale deeply, realising you'd zoned out as Neville begins to apologise for disturbing you. "No, no- Neville it's fine, really." You watch as he pulls a chair out at the head of the table and he catches your eye, pausing his movements. "I'm sorry, I didn't ask. Do you mind? If I sit?" His cheeks are rosy and you try to stop yourself from smiling, but you feel the tug at the corner of your lips nonetheless. "No, sit, Neville. Please." As he sits, you can't help but glance back at where he was sat with his friends, and notice them all staring straight at you. They definitely put Neville up to this, you register, as they all abruptly turn away from you, realising you'd caught them.

"Herbology?" Your head snaps back at Neville, nodding at his words. "Do you- well, do you need help?" You shake your head at him, pushing the paper aside. "No. I'm done with herbology for the night. Forever, actually." You both laugh at your words, and duck your heads away from each other, avoiding eye contact. You reach for your open ink bottle at the same time Neville does, pushing it towards you. You're too busy staring at where your fingers touch to grasp the fact that some of the ink has splattered out.

And suddenly, Neville's hand is pulling away from yours and he's panicking, and he's apologising and trying to find napkins. You're sat still during all of this, only perking up when Neville scurries back with tissues, leaning over you to wipe the ink off the table in front of you. He's close to you. So close you can smell his cologne. One of his hands grasps the back of your chair as he bends over slightly to clean the dark wood. You look up at him, admiring the way his usually neat hair falls into his face, mustering the courage to place your hand over his, immediately putting a halt to his movements.

"Neville. It's okay." You begin to stand, and he steps back so you're free to do so. When he tries stepping back further to give you space, you reach your hands out to grab the hem of the sleeves of his navy jumper. You step closer to him so your chests are nearly touching and lean in slightly. You hesitate, giving him enough time to pull away if he wanted to, but he doesn't. Moving one of your hands up to his shoulder, you lean in close enough to graze your lips against his lightly before fully pressing them against his.

The kiss is short. You pull away to watch his reaction, but don't get to take a glimpse at his face because he's grabbing you by the hips and tugging so you're completely pressed up against his body, your lips meeting his once more. This kiss is longer. Both your arms come up to his shoulders this time, one hand playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck. You feel his goosebumps on your fingertips, letting him pull away from you, panting heavily. You smile, one of your hands coming back to your face to wipe some saliva off your bottom lip.

Neville is smiling broadly, his face nearly as red as his dorm mate's hair. He makes eye contact with you, but you can see him struggle to maintain it. Your hand snakes into his, and only then do you hear the cheers from beside the fireplace coming from his friends. "Um, I - Go out with me?" Even though he's staring at his shoes now, you giggle, leaning over one last time to kiss him on the cheek. Whilst still close to him, you whisper "I'd love to." Before releasing your hand from his and beginning to leave, only to remember your things on the table.

You're too giddy to feel embarrassed about having to turn back around to grab your stuff, running up to your dorm once you're done, and slamming the door behind you. You freeze, afraid to have woken up your dorm mates, but when three heads poke out from the curtains around Lavender's bed, you realise the only thing you interrupted was a gossip session.

Throwing your books on your bed, you trip over your feet running to join them, a story of your own to tell.

A/N: To everyone reading this fic who follows me, I'm so sorry I haven't posted in FOREVER. I have been so busy with everything, but I'm on holiday and will write as many things as I can. Love from mina xx