#and he asked me how i was‚ like he wanted to keep in touch‚ and i never replied. i wanted to keep that distance between us

[partiallysame]

Ghost gets no bitches and he reminds me of whatever that TikTok audio is that’s like “how’d you get her?” And the other person is like “get her? No she grabbed me by the throat and told me I was hers”.

Word count: 800

Warnings: none (ghost being immediately whipped)

So hear me out you’re at the grocery store and while walking down the aisles you see this behemoth of a man. Big muscle sexy, surgical mask covering his face. You want. What to say? How should you approach? Ah yes you need help getting something from the top shelf. Stepping so you’re in his line of sight

“Could you come here?” You ask him and he just gives you a blank stare. Raising your eyebrows clearly waiting for a response he turns around looking for who you could be talking to and who is clearly not listening to you. When he sees no one else in the aisle he slowly points at himself, questioning you. “Yes you.” You smile trying to hold in a laugh. Quickly adding a “please” in the sweetest little voice and he is scurrying over to you.

“Could you please reach that box for me?” Ghost raises his arm up and points to a box when you nod confirming that’s the one you want he hands it to you. “That one too please” he obeys. You have him hand you two more boxes (not needing any of them). Then you try to push your luck a little. “Wait not this one” you hand him a box back and he returns it to the shelf. Before you know it you’ve had this man put all the boxes back just to hand them to you again. A smirk plastered on your face. Not once did the large man question you, not when you were looking up at him with those pretty eyes.

“Ok done with this aisle. Come on.” You start walking and his feet are following you. He hasn’t said a word to you but is following you around the store like a puppy. Down the next aisle you pointed at something (well within your reach) and he handed it you.

“Are you always this obedient?” You watched his eyes go wide but he found himself nodding. He’d probably say yes to anything you ask when you’re looking at him like that, like you want to eat him whole. His answer brought a smile to your face and he swore his knees were gonna buckle. You held out your hand, “phone.” It was a statement not a question and he quickly (fumbling) pulled his phone from his pocket and handed it to you. When you saw it was locked you looked up at him moving the phone ever so slightly towards him. You had meant for him to take the phone and unlock it but instead he mumbled out “0000” a small but dramatic gasp left your lips “oh so he does speak.” You typed in the 4 digits and the phone opened. You looked up at him when the basic passcode worked. “Simple and obedient. Just how I like ‘em” ghost swallowed hard. No one has ever treated him like this. Spoke to him like this. Not even Price. He should be offended? Insulted? Definitely not turned on. Right? (mark him down and scared AND horny). You handed his phone back to him, your number and name resting on his screen. He reached to take the phone from you, but you didn’t let go. Fingers touching you looked up at him “you better call me. I’ll be real sad if you dont.” He swore he was gonna pass out. Before you let go of his phone, hands still touching, heavy steps made their way into your aisle.

“Aye lieutenant there ye are. Been wandering round lookin fer ya.” Soap called down the aisle.

Ghost refused to acknowledge his friend calling for him, keeping eye contact with you. Your smile got bigger as you let go of the phone.

“Lieutenant huh? That mean you know how to give orders too?” He nodded again. “Then I’m definitely going to need you to call me. I’d like to see that.” Your eyes shamelessly raked down his figure. Fuck he needs to hold on to something.

Once you finally walked away, Soap approached quickly asking who you were and when ghosted shrugged his shoulders “I don’t know.” (But he’s gonna that’s for sure)

“She’s a fine looking lass I’m gonna go talk to her.” Ghost’s hand moved fast, grabbing the back of Soap’s neck guiding (pushing) him in the opposite direction of you. He was thanking god you saw him first and not Soap. If you had talked to Soap like that, ghost knew you’d have him walking on a leash (who’s he kidding if you had asked ghost would’ve barked)

Part 2 Part 2.5

[surielstea]

Spelling it Out

Based on a request.

Pairing: Cassian x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is a bit oblivious to Cassian’s flirtations, so Cassian has to go the extra mile to prove he truly wants her.

Warnings: Cassian probably makes some suggestive jokes somewhere in here, but it’s all fluff! :)

4.6k words.

"I brought coffee," I announce as I step into the studio's warm embrace, the door swinging shut behind me to keep the morning chill at bay. I balance the two cups in one hand, the other cradling the new set of paints Feyre had asked me to pick up this morning.

"Back here!" Feyre's voice carries from the storage room, muffled slightly by the rustling of cardboard.

I follow the sound, stepping into the small back area where she's surrounded by half-unpacked boxes. She exhales in relief as she rushes up to me, taking her coffee with eager hands.

"You're a lifesaver," she groans, lifting the steaming cup to her lips. "Thank you."

I set the paints down, glancing at the boxes. "I thought the shipments were too heavy to unload?"

Feyre hums around her coffee, eyes twinkling. "Oh, I had help—"

Before she can finish, a figure stalks through the doorway, his presence effortlessly filling the space. A box—one that Feyre and I together had struggled to move—rests in his arms like it weighs nothing.

"This should be the last one," the male says, setting it down with casual ease.

His voice is deep, rough-edged in a way that demands attention. I take in the broad cut of his shoulders, the way his wings shift behind him, arching slightly as he straightens. And then I see his face—hazel eyes rich as molten gold, a scar cutting through his dark brow, and a mouth curled into an easy, knowing smile. He's ruggedly handsome, but not in that delicate, ethereal way most High Fae are. No, he's something else entirely—something solid, real.

"Help from Cassian," Feyre finishes, amusement lacing her tone.

The name stiles me immediately, and I was a fool for not immediately putting it together the second I saw him. Cassian. Lord of Bloodshed.

He turns his gaze to me, openly assessing, and I take the opportunity to do the same. There's something about the way he looks at me, like he's mapping every detail—filing it away for later.

"I didn't know we'd have company," I say, forcing my focus back to the present. "I would've brought another coffee."

Cassian huffs a soft laugh. "Oh, no need. I've been up for hours." His voice carries the same warmth as his grin, rough yet inviting. "But that's a kind gesture."

I nod, offering a small smile in return.

"I don't believe you two have officially met," Feyre chimes in, shifting her attention between us. "Cass, this is my very talented friend. She keeps this place running."

"She gives me too much credit," I say, shaking my head.

Cassian, however, tilts his head, his expression unreadable. "I doubt that." The certainty in his tone knocks something loose in my chest.

"This is Cassian," Feyre continues, grinning. "Rhys' brother and the best guy to call for lifting heavy things."

Cassian makes a sound of protest. "Don't forget hilarious, intelligent, devastatingly handsome—I mean, the list goes on."

I huff a quiet laugh as he extends his hand.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Cassian." I smile as I take his hand.

His fingers close around mine, warm and calloused, his grip firm but not overwhelming.

"Likewise, sweetheart." His smirk deepens, and before I can pull away, his thumb brushes ever so slightly over the back of my hand—a touch so fleeting, so deliberate, that I almost convince myself I imagined it. Then he winks, a quick, knowing thing, before finally releasing me.

I swallow, ignoring the odd flutter in my stomach. I've heard the stories from Feyre, how when she originally arrived in the night court she may as well have ended up with Cassian with his relentless flirting. He's joking, I remind myself. That's just how he is.

Cassian dusts his hands off on his leathers before flashing me an easy grin. "You must be the one keeping Feyre sane around here."

I huff a quiet laugh, setting down the paints. "I do my best. But she keeps me busy."

"She does that," he muses, glancing at Feyre. "Though I didn't realize she had such a beautiful assistant."

I blink at him, caught off guard. "Oh—I'm not really her assistant. More like a glorified errand runner."

Feyre scoffs. "That is not true."

Cassian's gaze flicks back to me, assessing. "You're an artist too, then?"

I nod while shucking off my winter coat and hanging it on the back of a chair. "That's the idea."

His grin widens. "Now I'm definitely going to start hanging around more. I could use a few painting tips."

Feyre snorts. "You paint?"

"Not yet," he says, unbothered. "But I'm a fast learner. And I've always appreciated a good work of art."

Something about the way he says it, about the way his hazel eyes flick over me like he's taking his time, makes my stomach flutter.

But before I can respond, he flashes me a smirk, turning back to Feyre. "Anyway, mission accomplished. Boxes are in, and I fully expect my reward."

"Which is?" Feyre asks dryly.

Cassian smirks. "Your eternal gratitude. And maybe a good bottle of whiskey, if Rhys is feeling generous."

Feyre rolls her eyes, but I can't help my smile.

"How about next time we need your help, you'll be the first one we call?" I suggest, noticing Feyre's playful disinterest in rewarding him for being a good friend.

Cassian grins like I've just made his day. "Oh, sweetheart. You can call me anytime."

His voice drops just enough to send an odd warmth curling through my stomach. But before I can overthink it, he turns toward the door.

Cassian turns slightly, glancing at me and Feyre. "I'll be seeing you around, hopefully." He directs at me. "See you for dinner, Feyre."

And just like that, he's gone, leaving only the scent of wind and cracking embers in his wake.

I shake my head, amused, as I turn back to Feyre—only to find her already watching me over the rim of her coffee cup.

"What?"

She only smirks, taking a slow sip. "Nothing."

I frown but brush it off, reaching for the new paints.

Cassian was just being friendly. That's all.

Right?

—

From that moment on, Cassian made every excuse to come to the studio. Half the time, he didn't even bother with a valid reason—just threw out a casual "I was in town" when, in reality, he always was. Velaris wasn't nearly as big as he made it out to be.

The bell above the door rang, and I didn't need to look up to know whose footsteps were approaching behind me.

"Is that supposed to be a bird?" Cassian mused, leaning over my shoulder.

I scoffed, shoving his face away. "It's a dog, and you know it."

He chuckled, easily dodging my half-hearted push and settling right back beside me. "Mmm. If you say so." His wings rustled as he peered at my work again, this time with something softer in his expression. "It's amazing, sweetheart. You're so damn talented."

The sincerity in his voice made my stomach flutter. I tilted my head back to look up at him, caught off guard by the rare note of awe in his tone.

That awe melted into something else—something warm and teasing—as he placed both hands on my shoulders and started kneading gently.

I nearly groaned on the spot. "Gods, you're perfect at that." I exhaled, practically melting under his touch.

Cassian hummed, his thumbs working expertly over the knots in my shoulders.

I sighed blissfully, rolling my shoulders into his hands. "You should've been a healer."

He chuckled, his breath fanning against my ear. "I'd rather just take care of you, sweetheart."

I smiled, tilting my head further into his touch, completely missing the way his fingers stilled for a beat before continuing their slow, deliberate strokes.

"You really are tense," he murmured, pressing into the tight muscles just beneath my neck. "Is this what happens when you spend all day hunched over, painting little dogs that look like birds?"

I smacked his arm lightly. "If you're going to insult my work, at least pretend to be subtle about it."

"Who said anything about insulting?" His thumbs dug in a little deeper, his voice dropping just enough to make my skin heat. "I love watching you work. All focused, biting your lip, completely lost in it."

I wrinkled my nose. "That makes me sound like some kind of absent-minded hermit."

Cassian grinned. "A very cute absent-minded hermit."

I rolled my eyes. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Cassian."

"That's funny because I feel like it's getting me everywhere," he mused, his hands still kneading at my shoulders. "You're practically purring."

"I am not purring," I argued, though I made no move to stop him.

"Cassian, stop distracting my employees!" Feyre's voice rang from the back room, laced with exasperation.

Cassian smirked, straightening up from where he'd been massaging my shoulders. "Employee," he corrected with a lazy grin. "And I'm motivating her."

I rolled my eyes, but the warmth of his hands still lingered on my skin, a phantom pressure I refused to dwell on.

He chuckled, stepping back, stretching in that way that made every muscle in his absurdly broad body flex just enough to be noticed. His wings flared slightly, shifting behind him like an afterthought before he shot me another smirk. "I'll let you get back to it, sweetheart." Then, with a slow tilt of his head—"Unless you'd rather take a break and let me keep working these magic hands?"

My breath caught for half a second before I forced myself to scoff. "No," I said, ignoring the small blush creeping up my neck. "But... could I ask you a favor?"

Cassian perked up instantly, arms folding over his chest. "Anything, gorgeous."

I hesitated, suddenly second-guessing myself, but forged ahead. "I need to paint an anatomical feature I've been studying. I have a few reference images, but..." I swallowed, glancing at his wings. "I was hoping I could use you as a live model?"

His brows lifted, hazel eyes gleaming with intrigue. "My wings?"

I nodded. "Your wings are far more magnificent than the sketches in my book."

The moment the words left my mouth, I realized how they sounded—how appreciative they were—and my face went hot.

Cassian, of course, took full advantage. His wings stretched slightly as if preening under the attention. "You just trying to get me shirtless, sweetheart?"

A very unhelpful image flashed in my head—of him, shirtless, all sculpted muscle and golden skin, wings fanned out behind him in the studio's soft light.

"No!" I blurted, before catching myself. "I mean—it's just for the wings."

Cassian barked a laugh, shaking his head. "Only teasing, sweetheart. I'd love to."

I exhaled in relief. "Good. Are you free tomorrow?"

He tilted his head, grinning. "I'm here whenever you want me."

Something about the way he said it made my stomach flip.

I bit my lower lip slightly, nodding. "Thank you."

"I wouldn't thank me so fast," he mused, gaze flicking to me with unmistakable mischief. "You owe me after this."

I narrowed my eyes. "Owe you what?"

Cassian made a show of looking away, tapping his chin as though deep in thought. "Haven't decided yet," he hummed, lips twitching. "But don't worry, sweetheart. I'll think of something."

I huffed, waving him off. "Go bother someone else, Cassian."

He gave a dramatic bow, smirk firmly in place. "As you wish."

And with that, he sauntered off, wings twitching ever so slightly as he disappeared into the back of the studio—leaving Feyre standing there, watching me, amusement dancing in her eyes.

I turned back to my canvas, heat still prickling my skin.

—

I wasn't nervous.

There was no reason to be nervous.

It was just a painting. Just a model session. Nothing different from the dozens I'd done before.

Except, of course, this time the model was Cassian. And he was currently standing in the doorway of the studio, a lazy, devastatingly handsome grin on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Told you I'd be here whenever you wanted me."

I cleared my throat, turning away quickly to gather my supplies. "Yes, well, I'd rather not have students knocking over easels trying to get a look at you, so we're setting up in the back."

He let out a low chuckle as he followed me. "What, afraid they'll get distracted?"

I rolled my eyes. "No, but I know you will."

"Fair point."

Once we stepped into the back room—where there were no prying eyes or interruptions—I pointed to the stool in the center of the space. "Sit there, facing away from me."

Cassian obeyed, but not before flashing me a smirk. "Getting bossy already?"

I ignored him, busying myself with setting up my canvas. "You can take off your shirt now."

"Damn, sweetheart—at least buy me dinner first."

I froze mid-motion, whipping my head around. "That's not—I didn't—"

Cassian just laughed, reaching over his shoulder to grab the back of his collar. In one smooth motion, he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it onto a nearby table.

I regretted looking.

Because Mother above.

Cassian was made of solid muscle—thick, powerful shoulders, his back broad and sculpted as if the Cauldron had taken extra care in crafting every ridge, every dip, every inch of him. His wings, folded neatly against his back, only added to the sheer size of him.

I swallowed hard, thankful beyond belief that he was facing away.

"You good back there?" Cassian teased.

"I'm fine," I said, maybe a little too quickly.

I turned my attention to his wings. The pose needed to be just right—relaxed but natural, something that would emphasize their power without looking stiff or unnatural. I stepped forward, lifting my hands, then hesitated.

"Can I touch?" I asked softly, if there was one thing I learned from studying Illyrian anatomy it's that their wings were sensitive, sacred.

Cassian went still.

For a moment, there was silence. Then—so quiet I almost missed it—his breath hitched.

When he spoke again, his voice was different. Lower. "Yeah, sweetheart. Go ahead.

I exhaled slowly before pressing my fingertips to the strong, leathery membrane of his wing. Warmth radiated from him, the muscle beneath my touch twitching slightly as I carefully adjusted his positioning.

It was... exhilarating, in a way. To be granted access to something so personal.

I stepped back to assess the placement. "Are they too heavy to hold like that?"

Cassian laughed. "That's adorable."

I frowned. "What?"

"Sweetheart, these wings have carried me through battle, through storms, through the Illyrian mountains at full speed. I think I can manage to hold them still for a few hours."

I huffed. "Fine. But will you be able to sit still?"

That earned me another chuckle, this one softer. "Guess we'll find out, won't we?"

I shook my head and finally picked up my pencil, settling in front of my canvas.

"Alright," I murmured to myself, letting my nerves melt away as I focused on the work ahead. "Let's begin."

The soft scratch of pencil against canvas filled the room, steady, rhythmic—an anchor keeping me grounded as I worked.

I started with the shape of his wings, mapping out their vast expanse, the way they framed his body like an extension of his very presence. The leather stretched taut over powerful muscle, lined with delicate veins and faint, nearly imperceptible scars.

I shouldn't have been staring so intently.

I shouldn't have been so utterly captivated by every detail of him.

And yet, as I let my pencil glide over the page, shaping the curve of his shoulder blades, the slope of his spine, the corded muscles of his back... I couldn't stop.

He's just a model. Just another subject.

Then why did my fingers tremble slightly when I shaded the deep ridges of his scars? Why did my chest tighten at the thought of what he must have endured to earn them?

Cassian shifted slightly, flexing his shoulders, his wings twitching.

I snapped out of my daze, scowling. "Sit still."

He huffed a laugh. "I don't think I've ever sat this still in my entire life."

I hummed in response, refocusing. Carefully, I traced the lines of his back, the contours of muscle that spoke of centuries of battle, of training, of dedication. My gaze flicked up to his wings again, and a quiet sigh escaped me.

"What's that sound for?" he asked, the amusement clear in his voice.

I hesitated, then admitted, "They really are beautiful, you know."

Cassian stilled for a fraction of a second before letting out a soft chuckle. "Careful, sweetheart. Keep saying things like that and I might start thinking you actually like having me here."

I rolled my eyes. "You act like I don't."

Silence.

A pause, just long enough to make my stomach flutter with uncertainty.

Then, "Good. I like being here."

I pressed my lips together, pretending that warmth hadn't bloomed in my chest at his words. Pretending that I wasn't getting lost in the strong, elegant lines of his body.

I dipped my brush into the paint, moving on from the sketch to the first careful strokes of color.

Cassian's voice broke through the quiet. "You know, if you wanted a full anatomy study, you could've just asked."

I blinked, pulling back slightly. "...What?"

He turned his head just enough to smirk at me over his shoulder. "You're painting my back, too, aren't you?"

My cheeks heated. "Well—yes, but—"

"Seems unfair to only get half the view."

I huffed. "I don't need the full view, Cassian."

His smirk deepened. "That's a shame. I'd be a very cooperative model."

I nearly choked on air. "Just—shut up and sit still."

He laughed, the sound warm and rich, settling in my bones.

I shouldn't have been enjoying this so much.

I shouldn't have been admiring the golden-brown glow of his skin, the way the light cast soft shadows over the planes of his back. I shouldn't have let my eyes linger on the scars that marred him—proof of all he had endured, of everything he had survived.

And I certainly shouldn't have wished that all his teasing, all his flirtation, was anything more than just casual banter.

Cassian was like this with everyone.

Wasn't he?

I was not going to let Cassian distract me.

Even if he was currently sprawled in front of me, shirtless, his wings stretched just so, his body the most stunning thing I'd ever painted.

Even if his words curled around me like smoke, warm and teasing, making my thoughts race in ways they shouldn't.

I swallowed hard and turned my attention back to the canvas, forcing myself to focus.

I just had to finish the painting.

And ignore the way my heart had begun to beat just a little too fast.

The rhythmic strokes of my brush filled the quiet space, punctuated only by the occasional scrape of bristles against canvas and the steady sound of Cassian's breathing.

Nearly an hour has passed, and to his credit, he'd been holding still remarkably well. Mostly.

"You're awfully quiet back there, sweetheart," Cassian mused, his voice carrying just the hint of a smirk. "Not getting bored, are you?"

I huffed, dipping my brush into a deeper shade of pigment. "I'm working, Cassian."

"I am your work right now."

I rolled my eyes. "And you're a very high-maintenance subject."

Cassian chuckled. "I prefer engaging. You should be thanking me, really. Keeps things from getting dull."

I let out a soft laugh despite myself. "You're half-naked in front of me, Cassian. Things aren't exactly dull."

Silence.

A beat too long.

I froze as I realized what I'd just said.

Cassian's wings twitched. Then, "Well, well."

I groaned. "Forget I said that."

"Oh, absolutely not." He turned his head slightly, just enough for me to catch the smug curve of his lips. "You just admitted to being entertained by me. I'm savoring this moment."

"I said forget it."

"Nope. It's mine now."

I sighed, glaring at the canvas like it had personally wronged me.

Cassian chuckled again but thankfully let it drop, settling back into his position.

A few minutes passed in something almost resembling peace. I worked on layering in the first washes of color, the warm tones of his skin against the deeper hues of his wings.

Then—"So, do I get a say in how I'm portrayed?"

I lifted a brow. "Are you worried about artistic liberties?"

"A little."

I fought back a smile. "I could make you look very dramatic, if that's what you're asking. Add some storm clouds in the background. Maybe a tragic tear rolling down your face."

Cassian snorted. "As tempting as that sounds, I'd rather not be mistaken for some brooding, tortured soul."

I hummed. "That is Azriel's aesthetic."

"Exactly. We can't both have it."

"I don't know," I mused. "I think it could work. Maybe a single candle for dramatic lighting—"

"Absolutely not."

I grinned, but before I could make another remark, Cassian stretched, his wings flexing slightly before tucking back into place. The movement was so fluid, so casual—so utterly him.

I quickly went in with another light sketch, wanting to capture the way his muscles moved, the effortless strength in his frame.

"You still with me back there?" he teased, amusement lacing his voice.

"Yes, Cassian. Some of us are capable of focusing."

"Some of us just don't need to focus that hard to admire what's in front of us."

I frowned slightly, not quite catching his meaning. "What?"

He chuckled. "Nothing, sweetheart."

I shook my head, deciding not to press it.

"Alright," I finally said, leaning back to study my work. "I have the basics down. You can put your shirt back on now."

Cassian made a low, exaggerated noise of disappointment. "Damn. And here I was hoping you'd need me to pose for a few more hours."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't sound too heartbroken. I will be making you sit for another session later."

His grin was wicked. "You just can't get enough of me, can you?"

"Shut up and put your shirt on, Cassian."

He laughed, grabbing his discarded shirt—but the knowing look in his eyes told me that he'd be holding onto this moment for a long time.

And for some reason, I didn't mind one bit.

—

Cassian came in for many sessions after that.

I probably could've finished the painting on my own after the first few sittings, but he insisted I get all the colors right, all the details perfect. And, well... I wasn't exactly going to complain about having him shirtless in front of me for hours on end.

So, day after day, he showed up, sauntering into the studio with that insufferable smirk, stretching his wings like he owned the place. And I let him, indulged him—indulged myself—until the painting was finally finished, until there was no reason for him to sit for me anymore.

The thought left a strange hollowness in my chest, but I ignored it, focusing instead on adding the final highlights to his wings.

Cassian shifted in his seat, rolling his shoulders.

I glanced up. "Getting restless?"

He grinned. "You gonna keep me trapped here all day, sweetheart?"

I smirked. "You're free to go anytime." I glanced at the painting. "But you'd be leaving unfinished art behind, and that would just be tragic."

Even though all I had left to add was a small, near-invisible highlight, I liked the idea of keeping him there just a little longer.

Cassian chuckled, shaking his head. "Fine, fine. I'll sit still for you a little longer."

Something in the way he said it—for you—sent a ripple of warmth through me, but I shoved it aside. I exhaled, finally setting my brush down.

"Alright," I said, stretching my arms. "You're officially free."

Cassian groaned dramatically, standing and rolling his neck. "Finally." He grabbed his shirt, but instead of putting it on, he slung it over his shoulder, turning toward me with that insufferable smirk. "Is it done?"

I turned the easel slightly toward him.

It was hard to admire my own work. After staring at it for so long in every unfinished form, I wasn't sure if I loved it or if I just loved the image I had painted. But I could say I was proud of it. That was enough.

Cassian stepped closer, blinking at the still-wet canvas. His brows lifted, his mouth parted slightly. He didn't speak, didn't crack a joke, didn't smirk like he usually did.

I shifted under his gaze. "Well?"

He inhaled, slow. "Sweetheart..." He sounded almost reverent. "It's... it's beautiful."

A laugh bubbled from my lips. "You're only saying that because it's you I painted."

"No—I mean, I am beautiful, but this is... magnificent." His voice was softer than usual, quieter.

Something flickered in his eyes as he turned toward me, something warm and fond. It was enough to make my stomach flip.

I swallowed. "Thanks, Cass."

His grin returned. "Proud of yourself?"

I nodded, offering a small smile. "Yeah. I am."

His wings twitched. "Good. You should be."

A comfortable silence settled between us for a moment, the weight of his words pressing into me in a way I wasn't sure how to handle.

Then Cassian cleared his throat, stretching his arms over his head. "Now that it's finished..."

Something about the way he said it sent a prickle of anticipation down my spine.

He grinned. "...About my favor?"

I groaned. "You actually kept track of that?"

Cassian scoffed. "Sweetheart, I'd never forget a promise like that." He crossed his arms over his broad chest, eyeing me like he was scheming. "And I know exactly what I want."

A slow, lazy smirk curled his lips.

And for some reason, my stomach flipped all over again.

I raised a brow, waiting.

Cassian took a step forward. Then another.

My stomach flipped. "Okay?"

"I want you to go out with me."

I blinked. "What?"

His smirk deepened. "That's my favor. You and me. A date."

I stared at him, sure I'd misheard. "You're joking."

"Nope."

My heart did something strange, something uneven, and I let out a short, breathy laugh. "Cassian, you flirt with everyone."

"Not like this." His voice was quieter now. Steady.

I swallowed. "But—you're just messing with me. You've been messing with me this whole time."

Cassian sighed, running a hand down his face. "Gods, you're impossible." Before I could react, he stepped closer, hands coming up to cup my face, thumbs brushing my cheeks.

My breath hitched.

"Sweetheart," he murmured, tilting my chin up slightly. "Listen to me. I have not spent weeks finding every excuse under the sun to come here, sitting shirtless for hours just so you'd look at me, calling in a whole-ass favor just to take you out—just to mess with you."

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

Cassian's thumbs brushed against my skin again, his hazel eyes locked on mine. "I like you. I want you. And I swear to the Gods, if I have to spell it out anymore, I'm going to start carving it into the damn walls."

I let out a breathless laugh, my face burning. "You're serious."

His lips curled. "Took you long enough."

I exhaled, shaking my head slightly. "I—"

"Just say yes, sweetheart," he murmured, voice teasing, but there was something else in his gaze—something warm, something steady. Something real.

I swallowed hard. Yes."

Cassian grinned. "Good choice."

His hands lingered on my face for just a second longer before he pulled back, grabbing his shirt off his shoulder and throwing it on. He shot me one last smirk as he backed toward the door.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow after your class."

And with that, he was gone, leaving me standing there—heart racing, mind spinning, trying to process the fact that Cassian had actually just asked me out.

That all this time, he hadn't been messing with me at all.

Feyre was going to laugh at me for not catching on sooner when I tell her.

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glitterypirateduck @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @fauxdette @going-through-shit @glam-targaryen @hufflepuff-pa55 @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogerbarnesxx @azriels-shadowsinger @stinkinstuffie @sandramalikstyles-blog @sassyangel16 @lilah-asteria @starsinyourseyes @inloveallthetime @melsunshine @nighttimemoonlover @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @cumuluscranium @adharanotfound @azrielsmate3 @aelincaddel @hiddlestonspassionsackx @dee-writes-angst @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @pit-and-the-pen @mybestfriendmademe @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @circe143 @bubybubsters @joshysloshy @username199945 @ivy-34 @notsarareallynot @vixenshiftsvrs @aurorab99 @pey2618 @loving-and-dreaming @mmg777 @andreperez11 @thatacotargirl @123345566 @one-big-fangirl @moonslitluna @imyherondale @salvawhxres @bookishbabyyyy @anuttellaa @breadsticks2004 @azriels-human @mamita-vera @demetercabingreen-thumb @lorosette @daughterofthemoons-stuff @tothestarsandwhateverend @ahaha0246 @mellowmusings @mythicalcookie

[hoshifighting]

svt reaction to you (their cold wife) getting sick

seungcheol doesn't show it, but he’s visibly panicked. seeing you so weak completely throws him off. “baby,” his voice cracks a little as he sits beside you, his hand gently brushing through your hair. “you need to rest, okay? i can handle everything, just let me take care of you.” he’s trying so hard not to show how worried he is, but his hand lingers on your forehead, watching you carefully. if you don’t listen, you’ll see him holding back tears, his jaw clenched tight. “don’t make the same mistakes ive made, my love. please, just let me help.”

jeonghan isn't really the type to outwardly panic, but you can see the way his eyes soften with worry. it makes him feel helpless. he’ll gently nudge you, a hand on your cheek, as if to check if you’re really that sick. “hey, you know i hate seeing you like this, you’re always so strong... i want to help you, but you're pushing me away. let me make you feel better, okay?” he watches you, biting his lip, not knowing what to do. it’s uncharacteristic of him to show concern so openly, but for you? he can’t hide it.

joshua's the one who has to step up, not your mom, or a family memeber. he’s gentle with you, always asking if you need anything, his hands warm as he adjusts the blankets around you. “babe, you’re the most important thing to me right now. let me take care of you,” you can see the way his shoulders tense whenever you push him away, the way his hands hesitate to touch you.

junhui isn’t good at handling sickness, especially when it’s you. he’s always been so carefree and lighthearted, but this situation makes him realize just how much he cares for you, even if its just a flu. when you’re sick, he tries his best to be quiet, doing everything for you without a word of complaint. “don’t you dare try to get up,” he warns gently, helping you lie back down when you try to move. “i’m gonna make sure you’re okay. please don’t push me away, i can’t stand it.” he hates seeing you like this, and it makes him feel lost.

hoshi, even though he tries to hide it, seeing you sick, lying in bed, is throwing him off. “no, no, you can’t be sick!” he says, pacing around the room. he tries to keep the mood light, but you can see it in his eyes—he’s desperate to help you feel better. when he notices you’re still not listening to him, he softens, sitting beside you and gently holding your hand. “i’m scared.” he admits quietly. “come on, smile just a little bit for me, alright?” he’ll throw in dance moves, trying to make you giggle through your fever. but when he sees you barely responding, the laughter dies down, and he’ll sit beside you, rubbing your arm softly.

wonwoo doesn’t know how to comfort someone when they’re sick, but he tries his best, even if it’s awkward. he’ll sit beside you, his hands restless, not sure where to place them. “you should be resting,” he says softly, watching you closely as you try to power through. when you try to push him away, he gently grabs your wrist. “i know you don’t like being helpless, but it’s okay to let me take care of you. understand?”

woozi is the type to hide his emotions, but when you're sick, he can’t stop his worry from seeping through. he’s quiet, observing you with sad puppy eyes. “you’re not fooling anyone, you know?” he says gently, brushing your hair from your forehead. “you think i don’t see how bad you’re feeling? you have to rest.” he will show up with every remedy he can think of. sStop pretending you’re not sick.”

minghao’ll sit with you, his hand gently resting on your leg, offering you drinks and food without pushing too hard. “you need anything else?” he’ll ask. if you seem uncomfortable, he’ll adjust the pillows or pull the blanket up around you. “rest, okay? i know you’re tough, but you’re allowed to take a break with me.”

mingyu hates seeing you in such a vulnerable state, and it makes him feel like its actually HIS fault? “hey, don’t give me that look,” he says, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “you need to rest, alright? you’re always taking care of everyone else, let me take care of you this time.” he’ll be running around, grabbing medicine, making soup, doing anything he can. if you refuse to eat, he’ll do the “puppy eyes” thing, like please just do it for me. “y/n, you gotta eat something for me.” he’ll say, holding a spoon up like he’s feeding you a kid.

seokmin’s probably more emotional about it than anyone else, but he tries to hide it behind his warm, comforting words. “hey, hey, don’t try to be tough for me, okay?” he says softly, cupping your face in his hands. “i need you to get better. you’re always so strong, but now it’s my turn to take care of you. don’t shut me out.” he’s the type to almost act like everything’s fine to keep you from feeling bad, but when you’re not looking, you can tell he’s worrying “you need more water? how about some tea? i’ll make it extra special.” his attempts to cheer you up with bad jokes and soft, loving gestures will make you smile, even if you don’t feel like it.

seungkwan “no, no, no, no! not you too!” he says, pacing back and forth, clearly frantic. “you can’t be sick, that’s not allowed!” he’s trying to keep it together, but you can see the way his eyes keep flicking back to you. “you want soup? Iill make the best soup ever. i’ll make it famous!” he says, putting on an exaggerated show as he tries to make you laugh.

vernon knows you don’t like being weak, but he refuses to let you go through it alone. “stop, you’re not pushing me away this time,” he says in the most serious tone you ever heard him, while he applies vic on your back. you’ll catch him watching you when he thinks you’re asleep, his hand softly brushing through your hair, a faint frown on his face. his way of saying “i need you to be okay” without actually saying it out loud.

chan’s soft, tender heart breaks when he sees you sick, but he’ll try his hardest not to overwhelm you. he’ll bring you everything you need, checking in on you constantly. “you’re not fooling me, y/n,” he says gently, pressing a hand to your forehead. “i know you’re not feeling well. you always take care of me... why wouldn't you let me take care of you this time? isn't that what boyfriends were made for?”

[reiderwriter]

hi Kacie :"> it's me :"> just thinking about ''reader sitting on his face in reverse cowgirl and decides to just unbutton and zip down his pants, turning this to a 69 and somehow both of them make it into a 'who's gonna make the other one finish first' competition'' nothing much how has your afternoon been I hope you'll have a great day xx -kei

A Kei request a day keeps the chances of my going to heaven away 🙏 I <3 smut

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI, use of pet names (good boy), sub(ish) Spencer Reid, munch!Spencer, oral (m +f), 69ing, rough sex, face fucking, unprotected oral sex, no plot just sex. Literally no plot.

Masterlist <3

With a cock that perfect and neglected right in front of your face, you could hardly resist the temptation to give it a tiny taste.

It wasn't like it was against the rules of your non-hookups with Spencer. He'd ask for explicit pictures twice a week, which you'd happily send for the chance to be sat on his tongue by 10pm that Friday evening, days on which cases landed notwithstanding.

Hotel rooms were very convenient hook up spots, especially the ones with free condoms and tissues on both the nightstand and by the desk chair.

Not that you ever needed condoms, really. You'd never so much as touched Spencer's cock, let alone had it inside you. He was too much of a giver to take something like that from you. His cock was always hard, always visible through his pants, but he was so focused on your pleasure, he didn't care about his own needs being met.

Spencer's tongue was your personal sex toy. You'd fucked his face multiple times, grabbing his hair and forcing his nose into the bristles of hair at the end of your pelvic bone as you ground your cunt into his wet, hot mouth. You'd laid back contentedly and let him peacefully lick and suck slowly for hours on end, cumming multiple times as he explored your sensitive parts.

You'd sat on a chair, legs spread, and let him lap up your cum on his knees, because there was nothing in the world he wanted more.

More than once, you knew, he'd walked away with cum dampening his pants, having enjoyed your moans and taste so much that he'd lost it before really touching you.

But Spencer Reid was being unfair getting you to sit on his face, to look at his big, thick cock atraining through his pants, straight on, and telling you to sit still and enjoy his tongue when all you wanted was to take him as far down your throat as he could get.

“Fuck, Spencer,” you moaned again as he nipped at your clit, tongue flicking it as you felt a familiar burn of stimulation at your core.

You were going to end up roughly fucking his face if you weren't careful. His tongue just felt too good.

You slid your hands down his stomach a bit, landing on his loose pants as you repositioned your knees.

“Spencer, that's it keep going. Good boy, good boy.”

You gripped his pants tightly, using the little bit of tension to help you arch back, pushing more of your ass onto his face than before.

But your arms, already weak from a rough day at work, slipped again pushing his pants down just one more inch until his cock could finally spring loose. You wanted nothing more than to taste it, reaching forward and looking at it intensely as your mouth watered. You didn't get closer than a breath away, as Spencer immediately stopped when your mouth almost achieved its goal.

“Fuck, fuck, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Spencer mumbled crawling out from underneath you as he scrambled to get his cock back in his pants.

“Spencer-”

“I'm sorry, it won't happen again, I'll-”

“Spencer, slow down. What?”

You'd seen Spencer flushed with desire before, but the redness of his cheeks was different somehow now. More embarrassment than anything else.

Slowly, you crawled towards him again, trying to look as non-threatening as you could, clad only in hastily pushed aside panties and dishevelled dress. Your hand slowly traced up his thigh, and you kept it there, still for a second watching to see what Spencer would do next.

“Spencer. Why can't I see your cock?” You asked, voice low but light, almost surprising yourself with how breathy and needy you sounded.

“I… I thought you wouldn't want to see…” he trailed off, and you pouted up at him, stroking his thigh as he looked down distractedly at you.

“I want to. Can I have it now?” You asked in a sickeningly sweet voice.

“Y/N…. It's… I've had complaints in the past, it's not…” he struggled to find the words as your hand brushed over his crotch now tracing the bulge in his pants as his head dropped backwards.

“It's not what? Big? Don't lie to me.”

“That's not it… I get… I get too overwhelmed if you do that, I get too-”

“Too….” You mimicked, dropping a hand into his underwear as his hand fell over yours, unsure whether it was to stop you or to set the pace of your impromptu hand job.

“Rough,” he said, as you firmly gripped his cock, using your other hand to free him from his pants and underwear, knocking his hand away as you ran your palm along the length of his hard cock.

“Rough?” You said, gripping the tip of his cock, teasing it until it shone with precum.

His hand fell back over yours, more firmly this time, as he met his eyes with yours.

“I didn't want to hurt you, but I get so overwhelmed if I use it that I… I get rough, I don't listen well-”

You were practically dripping listening to his explanations for not fucking you, or even letting you see his cock.

“Overwhelmed?”

“Yes! It's like… Y/N, I'd treat you like a sex toy, not a person, and I want this to be good for you, too, so let's not-”

You cut him off with a rough kiss as you pressed him back into the bed, straddling his thighs as you gently fisted his cock, rubbing up and down slowly.

“I'll make a deal with you, Spencer,” you said, between gasps of air. “I'll sit on your face again, and you let me suck your cock. When you get rough, if you get rough, you'll be able to feel how much I'm enjoying it, okay?”

He nodded between kisses, words forming and melting on his tongue as his hips began thrusting into your hand, his thigh digging into your mound as he thrashed towards a climax.

“Good boy,” you said, kissing him one last time before letting go of his cock and climbing out of his lap.

His body twitched in protest, but his big hands grasped you quickly, pulling you up the bed as you eagerly went with them, losing your panties on the way as you let your dress fall around his face in an all too familiar position.

But this time, you lowered yourself down, too, spitting on his tip quickly as his tongue got to work teasing your clit slowly.

You gave him a few pumps, before lowering yourself more completely on his face, pressing your chest close to his abdomen and taking his cock slowly onto your mouth.

Spencer wasn't small, but you also weren't going to let him be a challenge. You got a few inches down before you decided to come back up again, hands still stroking the base and massaging the rest. You did that a few times before you felt Spencer's body angle up into you again.

Changing his leg position on the bed, Spencer thrust his cock up into your mouth as you forced yourself to breathe. His cock thrust up again, quickly but totally and he left it there for a few seconds before pulling it out again.

The entire time, he hadn't let up his work on your cunt. His to guess flattened out against your clit, roughly stroking that sensitive area with a precision only he knew. A hand clasped around your hips, gripping your ass kept you firmly in place on his face, as his hips bucked into you.

He got faster, wilder, and yes, rougher.

You didn't want to pull off his dick, but moving back was instinctual. He pushed you right back in with a hand on your head, fisted into your hair as he synchronised your movements, pulling your head up as he pulled his cock away from your lips, and pushing it back down when his hips snapped up.

You moaned hysterically when you came apart on his face, feeling your cum trickling down your leg as he continued to use you to get off. His to guess never stopped, even after wave after wave of your juices hit him.

The only sign of his impending orgasm was the tightening of his hands, both of them now coming down on your head, forcing you to the base of his sizable cock as your tongue touched his balls. He came down your throat and immediately releases you, spluttering and coughing as your legs trembled.

Spencer scrambled to get you on your back, pushing you upright and patting your back as you regained your breath.

“I'm sorry, Y/N, I said it wasn't a good ide-”

You pushed your cum stained tongue into his mouth, shutting him up quickly as he tasted himself, and you tasted yourself, and your tastes mingled quickly, as you climbed into his lap again.

“Spencer,” you said, catching your breath once again, collapsing into his arms.

“If I need to beg for your cock, I will. I like it rough. I-” you gasped again, feeling his cock stirring with each word.

“I very much like it when you use me like a sex toy. So… so in the future, please use all of me, and I'll use you, too.”

[fear-is-truth]

ft. in-ho (frontman) ‧ hyun-ju (120) ‧ nam-gyu (124) ‧ su-bong (230) ‧ se-mi (380) ‧ dae-ho (388)

a/n — pov: you’re a player in the game

HWANG IN-HO (황인호) / FRONTMAN

in-ho notices before you even say anything. in-ho isn’t one for emotional conversations, but he’s super observant. he picks up on the way your shoulders tense, how you’ve gone quiet. he won’t call it out immediately, but he clocks it.

he doesn’t dance around it. the moment he notices something’s off, he tells you. “you look upset.” not a question, just an observation.

gives you space to talk but doesn’t pry. if you want to tell him, you will. in-ho won’t ask unnecessary questions or pressure you for details. just a quiet, expectant pause, as if he already knows you’ll answer.

doesn’t hover, doesn’t fuss. just stays close enough to remind you that you’re not alone.

his version of comfort is practical, no empty reassurances. if there’s something to be done, he’ll do it. if not, he makes it clear that whatever it is, he’ll handle it for you.

if you haven’t eaten, he’ll make sure you do. sets a warm drink beside you without a word. adjusts the thermostat if it’s too cold. finds small ways to ease your discomfort.

physical comfort is rare but meaningful. maybe a firm hand on your shoulder, a slow squeeze before pulling away. he isn’t overly affectionate, but if you lean into him, he doesn’t pull away.

CHO HYUN-JU (조현주) / PLAYER 120

sits down next to you and takes your hand. just reaches over and laces her fingers with yours, thumb brushing against your knuckles. warm, solid. she’s not letting go unless you do first.

leans in a little, tilts her head toward you, brows slightly furrowed. “talk to me.” not a really a demand, just an open door. if you shake your head, she won’t press, just squeezes your hand lightly.

pep talks like it’s second nature. if you start spiraling, hyun-ju is quick to counter it. “okay, listen. you’re not a failure, you’re not a burden, and whatever your brain is telling you? it’s wrong.” her voice is firm, but there’s a softness to it. “you’ve got this. i know you do. and i’m here if you ever need me.”

reminds you of your strength. “you’ve survived worse,” she says, squeezing your fingers. “you always pull through. and even if you don’t believe in yourself right now, i do.”

stays until you’re okay. whether it’s five minutes or an hour, she’s not going anywhere.

NAM-GYU (남규) / PLAYER 124

at first, nam-gyu just observes—eyes flicking over your face, noting the way you’re withdrawn. he doesn’t ask what’s wrong right away, just sits nearby, waiting.

he’s not naturally comforting, but he knows how to play the part. if he wants to keep you close, he has to. so he tilts his head, widens his eyes a little, makes his voice soft. “you okay?”

“i don’t like seeing you like this,” he murmurs, tucking his hands into his sleeves like paws, like he’s the one who’s hurt.

he touches you more when you’re upset. a hesitant pat on your back, a nudge of his knee against yours.

if you lean into him, he doesn’t pull away. might even rest a hand on your head for a second before clearing his throat and acting like he didn’t.

CHOI SU-BONG (최수봉) / PLAYER 230

his version of concern is kinda abrasive. “you look like shit,” he says instead of asking what’s wrong. he’s not trying to be mean (for once), just stating the obvious. it’s his way of getting you to talk.

gets uncharacteristically serious if it’s bad. if he realizes this isn’t just a bad mood, his usual joking stops.

weirdly loyal in moments like this. for all his loudmouth tendencies, he doesn’t go blabbing about your problems to anyone else. if you trust him with something, he keeps it to himself.

his version of comfort is physical. a hard pat on the back, an arm slung around your shoulders. if you’re really down, he might—might—go as far as ruffling your hair like you’re an annoying little sibling.

doesn’t do deep talks. if you try to open up, he’ll listen—kind of—but don’t expect much in the way of emotional wisdom. “yeah, life kinda sucks. what else is new?” it sounds dismissive, but he’s actually just bad at handling this stuff. still, he stays, which says more than his words ever could.

if someone upset you, he’s taking names. next thing you know, that person is “accidentally” getting shoved in the food line or tripped up during a game.

deflects with humor. his go-to method for cheering you up is cracking jokes or roasting someone else to make you laugh.

tries to distract you. if talking about feelings isn’t your thing, he’ll change the subject. starts rambling about something random, or nudges you into a conversation about literally anything else.

if you cry, he freezes for a second. but he recovers quickly, sighs, pulls you into a loose hug. “shh, shh. don’t cry, it’s ugly.”

not good at expressing sincerity, but he tries. if he sees you sulking too long, he gets fidgety. taps his fingers, rolls his shoulders, then finally mumbles, “look, just don’t—don’t let this shit eat you up, alright?” he won’t say more than that, but the concern is genuine.

SE-MI (세미) / PLAYER 380

she notices immediately. she won’t say anything at first, just side-eyes you now and then, gauging your mood. she’s not the type to ask, “are you okay?”—she knows if you want to talk, you will.

gives you space, but not too much. she’ll stay nearby, maybe leaning against a wall, arms crossed. not hovering, just making it clear that she’s there if you need her.

eventually, she’ll make a passing comment like, “you’re quiet today.” not prying, not pushing—just an opening if you want to take it.

subtle gestures. she’s not physically affectionate, but if she knows you need comfort, she might nudge your shoulder lightly, hand you an extra piece of her food, or offer to hold your hand without saying anything.

if someone upset you, she’ll remember. she won’t make a scene, won’t go after them like thanos or nam-gyu, but she’ll keep a mental note. next time there’s a chance to put them in their place (verbally), she will.

makes sure you’re okay without making it obvious. later, when things have calmed down, she’ll casually check in. “feeling better?” short, simple, but it means she cares.

KANG DAE-HO (강대호) / PLAYER 388

doesn’t push. if you’re not in the mood to talk, dae-ho respects that. he just plops down beside you next to you, close but not crowding, letting his presence do the comforting. sometimes, that’s all you need.

knows when to joke and when to stay quiet. if he senses you need a distraction, he’ll say something lighthearted. if you just need silence, he respects that too. he grew up with four sisters—he knows when to shut up and when to just be there.

gives you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder or a light pat on the back.

super empathetic. if you do open up, he listens without interrupts, just nodding along, occasionally humming in agreement. he won’t try to fix things with empty words—just validates how you feel.

gets protective of you in an almost brotherly way.

dae-ho never makes you feel like a burden. no frustration—just patience, warmth, and support.

──⟢  fear-is-truth — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[revelboo]

would you be ok with writing something about the mechs who'd let the human dom them? because what you've written for skywarp is so yummy

Oooh yes, please. Though to be fair, some of the cons would be willing to accommodate their human’s request if they’re rewarded beforehand for it (and no one else is around to see). Here’s a couple scenarios 18+ mass displaced mechs 🌶️

Human Dom Headcanons/Scenarios- Optimus x Reader, Soundwave x Reader

TFA Optimus

- so inexperienced and awkward. He’s happy to let you take the lead so he can learn what you need and like. Too embarassed to admit that you ordering him around is a turn on

• “You don’t move unless I say you can. Okay?” Staring up at you, he nods as you straddle his thighs. “Can you show me?” Primus, that soft voice of yours, coaxing him. And he wants to obey, freeing his spike and tensing when you reach to touch him. “Hands over your head. No touching.” Shakily lifting his hands to press against the berth, he groans when you grip him, soft fingers tracing his biolights. He’s going to release before he can even interface with you if you keep that up. “You’re big, aren’t you.”

• Watching his hips lift slightly and feeling his spike kick in your hand is oddly empowering. Especially when he makes a low, revving noise deep in his chassis, lips parting. And he is big. Not impossible, but it’s going to take some work to fit. Does he realize that? You’re not sure, but you almost suspect the big guy’s not that experienced. “Please, don’t stop,” he groans when you shift on his legs. Going up on your knees and leaning over him, rocking the length of his spike against yourself.

• Head lifting on a growling whine when the feel of your slick flesh leaves him, he watches you ease back to sit on his legs again, thighs spread and where he’s desperate to bury himself on full display. “Give me a hand,” you say, voice low and needy. And he doesn’t hesitate, letting you grab his hand and study his servos. “Right here.” Sitting up some, he obediently presses a servo inside you, the wet heat of you so tight around his servo. “Good. That’s good.” And you’re rocking yourself against him. “Can you curl your servo-ah! Don’t stop.” Fascinated as you move yourself against his hand with rough, rolling movements, your lips parting. Venting when your hand wraps around his and you press one of your little fingers inside yourself alongside his servo and cry out, teeth bared. Stretching yourself for him, he realizes, feeling how soft and wet your flesh is, the way it clings to his servo. And then your movements are faltering, body trembling and gripping his servo.

• Shivering as you grip his wrist and pull his hand away, you find his spike and shift over him. Sliding the head against yourself and jaw clenching at the burn of him stretching you. “We don’t have to,” he says, and his expression is so concerned it’s adorable. Rolling your hips and carefully rocking yourself, you shudder in relief when he finally slides deep and he’s almost too much. And he’s still keeping his hands to himself, not moving, just making that low noise that’s almost a whine. “Primus,” he whispers. Taking a shuddering breath, you lift up an inch, feeling every ridge stroking inside you before you take him deep again. “Oh, Primus.” Head falling back, his servos curl into fists at his sides then scrabble at the berth. “Please.”

• You’re so tight and wet wrapped around his spike. Little eyes hooded as you watch him, moving slowly on his spike. “I think you’re going to ruin me,” you moan, hips rolling as you begin to move a little faster on him. What does that mean? And Primus, his denta grit, hips lifting with a hitching vent when he accidentally releases and your motions falter, lips parting. “Oh, you are needy,” you whisper, hips wiggling on him. “Need to work on your stamina, big guy.” Spike still hard and pulsing inside you when you begin to move again. And he wants to learn, so bad. Wants to keep you.

Soundwave

- he’d ask you to dominate him. Won’t stop crooning at you, because you’re too adorable trying to be all serious and demanding

• “O-on your knees,” you demand, face heating in embarrassment. Unable to believe he’d wanted to play as he’d softly asked. Watching the mass displaced mech obediently ease down to his knees in front of you, head tipping back to stare up at you. Biting your bottom lip, you try to force yourself to relax and lay a hand on his helm. “Retract the mask.” There’s no hesitation and he rocks forward, lips brushing your lower belly, venting against your skin, before he rests his chin on your hip, looking up at you. Waiting and the words catch in your throat. Unable to admit what you want as he patiently waits. “Did I tell you that you could touch me, yet?” And he makes a noise, a low, growling protest when you lay a hand on his helm and make him rock back. “Are you hard for me? Show me.”

• Uttering a tonal groan, he frees his spike and grips himself. “So hard,” he whispers, easing back to sit on his legs when you gently push on his shoulder. Hips lifting in invitation when he runs his servos along his length. Wants to touch you so bad it hurts. Because this is harder than he’d imagined it would be. To submit to you, but he’s not sure he’s ever been this needy before. “Permission?” Let him touch you. And you reach to stroke his helm. Barely nodding up at you in encouragement when you hesitate and then you tug his head to you, parting your thighs. Gently guides one of your thighs over his shoulder and both of your hands grab his helm when you wobble. Curling an arm around you to hold you steady before he presses his mouth against you. Exploring you with his lips and glossa while you shudder on a breathless moan. Free hand gripping his spike and squeezing himself as he teases you. Because he can feel your need, that you’re enjoying this despite your uncertainty as your emotions spark through him.

• Feeling his mouth slide intimately against you, gripping his helm as his glossa tunnels inside you. Can hear him growling, his hitching vents when you cautiously rock yourself against him, unsure of your balance. Can just see his optics through his visor, Enough to tell he’s looking up your body at you as he plays with you. “That’s good,” you manage, hips moving. “Are you stroking your spike?” And he makes that tonal, almost whine of protest again. “You don’t come until I say so.” Part of you mortified and part of you more turned on than you’ve ever been before at being the one in control. Grinding against his mouth and gasping as you chase that high. “Do a good job and you can fuck me.”

• Glossa tunneling inside you, mouth moving against your slick flesh, he almost releases right than at your words. And then your hips buck as you come apart, whimpering when he keeps lapping and stroking you. Hands catching your hips to steady you. “Please?” He asks, servos rubbing circles on your hips as you tremble. Lifting his own hips slightly in invitation, because he’s hurting to be inside you. Eyes dark with need, you ease yourself down. Gripping your hips to keep you steady when you reach to catch his spike before you’re guiding him to you, taking him deep. “Claim what’s yours.” Hips lifting so you splay your little hands on his chassis for balance, he croons at you. “Please.”

[aimfor-theheart]

mafia au with bodyguard vi i am gnawing on the bars of my enclosure

anon i’m trying to distract myself on this flight so here take this little drabble bc i can’t get bodyguard!vi out of my mind 😖

***

You laze at your vanity, languid like a cat; taking your time to get ready. Your hair is half undone. You’re still in your sheer, dark tights and bra—some jewelry hanging from your bare skin, some still scattered on the vanity in front of you. Your martini glass gleams alongside the pearls in the lowlight of your bedroom.

You’re powdering your face when someone knocks.

“Come in,” You say, despite your state of undress.

When Vi enters, you catch her eyes in the reflection of your vanity mirror.

She curses a little, averting her gaze. You smile, slow and mischievous.

“You know, usually when people are undressed, they don’t tell someone to stroll into their bedroom.” Vi remarks.

“Oh, but I knew it was you.” You respond innocently.

She huffs a bit of a laugh. You see a muscle feather in her jaw. She’s still looking away from you, but there’s something in her face—it lurks around the edges of her expression, like she’s trying to keep it hidden.

(Hunger looks good on her.)

“I’m your bodyguard, princess. I should be standing outside your door while you get ready like this.” She says and you’ve found that she likes to tell you about what she should do with you. She likes to tell you what’s proper, as you lure her into something improper.

“Oh, relax. Have a drink, would you?” You retort, lifting your martini glass to her in the mirror as if to demonstrate. You take a sip, lemon twist and flowery gin hit your tongue in a cool burst. “I wanted company while I finish getting ready.”

She lets go of a hard sigh. “You’re trying to get me killed. Your father would have my head.”

“Good thing he’s not around tonight, then.” You hum, finally returning to your preening and powdering.

“Would you at least put on some clothes for me?” Vi asks the ceiling and really it’s almost—funny, how chivalrous she’s trying to be. Gentlemanly. She still hasn’t looked your way.

Well, that won’t do.

“Don’t tell me you’re shy.” You coo, finally turning from the mirror to face her. “Not with your reputation…”

She barks out a laugh.

“I’m being paid to protect you.” Vi reiterates and you think, at this point, she’s reminding herself more than you.

“So you can’t keep me company while I get ready?” You ask sweetly.

Her eyes cut to you before she can stop herself, a flash of blue lighting. When she takes you in, it’s with a hitched breath. Her eyes skip down the curves of your body. She looks away again.

“You’re not sly, sweetheart. I know your game.” Vi says, dragging a hand through her hair, tousling it further.

You let go of an overdramatic sigh, “Fine, fine. I’ll dress.”

And with that, you saunter to your wardrobe, where the slinky little dress you’ll be wearing tonight hangs. It’s midnight purple, shimmering like dark water at night. You pull it from the hanger and carefully slip it on. But in the back, it hangs open, zipper undone.

Your eyes cut to Vi—she’s still turned away and you trace the broad lines of her back. The sliver of her tattoo that starts at the nape of her neck.

“Vi,” You say her name so lightly, “will you help me?”

When she looks at you, it’s of the open back of your dress, all your bare skin and the silk. The lacy back of your bra—the shadow of your matching panties beneath the tights. You peek over your shoulder demurely.

Vi swallows hard.

But still, she approaches. Her footsteps are slow, heavy. And then she’s behind you and you can almost feel her, feel her warmth. You stay perfectly still for her—waiting, breath held—

The touch of her fingers against the bare skin of your lower back makes your lashes flutter. She takes the zipper in hand. With her other hand, she smoothes the fabric of the dress, palm open against the curve of your waist.

Slowly, she pulls the zipper up along your spine.

When she’s done, she settles that hand on your waist, too. Holds you.

“You’re such trouble.” She murmurs, squeezes a little into the soft give of your hips.

“I just needed your help.” You say, bedroom soft.

This little, frustrated groan works its way out of her throat. Your stomach flips, thinking of what it might sound against your throat, or inner thighs. She hangs her head and for a moment, you think she might close the rest of the distance, might let her lips fall to the nape of your neck, or press her chest all against your back—

Instead, she’s gone. Hands off you, held up like she’s trying to show she’s innocent, as she takes a few steps away from you.

She sinks into one of your loveseats—the one that faces the vanity.

“Finish getting ready, princess.”

And for once, you listen to her. You finish pinning your hair. You finish your makeup and add your jewelry. You drink the rest of your martini, the warmth of alcohol hitting you sweet and hot, somewhere in your chest.

When you’re finished, you nudge your stocking clad foot in her direction.

She knows, instantly and moves to you. She eases to one knee, and takes one of your heels in hand. She pulls your foot into her lap, then she deftly eases the shoe onto your foot. She buckles the strap around your ankle dutifully. She does the other one with the same, methodical devotion.

She looks up at you from her knees, your ankle still held in her rough palm. “Happy?” She asks.

“Endlessly.” Your smile is a cat’s curve, a crescent moon.

“You’re so spoiled.” Vi says, adjusting the strap of your heel, so it sits perfectly.

“I like to be taken care of, that’s all.” You say primly.

She snorts at that, and squeezes your ankle in her strong hand. “Princess?” She says, eyes dark and imploring, looking up at you—

It’s such a good look on her. Like this, on her knees.

“Hm?”

She stands slowly, now towering over you. You slowly tip your head back to look up at her. And she even takes your chin in hand, makes you hold her eyes.

“Don’t run off tonight.” She warns.

Your smile turns sharp—eyes dancing with mischief.

“But you always did love a good chase.”

(Hunger looks good on her.)

[xfgpng]

control …

— [ nsfw ] kissing, dry humping, first kiss + they’re both virgins

— wc :: 1.2k

caleb likes to think he’s in control of everything that happens around him. he’s always been pretty good at controlling his emotions and schooling his expressions and he tries not to overreact.


that’s the problem with her, she throws him off balance in the best and worst ways and it leaves him feeling so unsettled.

the thing about college, it’s supposed to be the best years of your life and he doesn’t know if he agrees or disagrees with that. if he really thinks about it, it’s bullshit but he knows why he feels that way.

he keeps himself composed most days, he has no reason to act out of character but this is something new to him.

caleb wasn’t naive enough to think this would never happen, he just always thought he’d be able to handle it well but he cannot. his hands feel clammy and his hot around his neck. is this even normal? he doesn’t fucking know.

he wants to lie and say he’s completely normal about her having other guy friends but he’s definitely not. his skin crawls whenever they touch her shoulder, grab at her wrists even if it’s completely platonic and innocent.


he especially hates when they lean in to close to talk to her when they’re at a party and the music is too loud. those are the nights caleb avoids alcohol like it personally offended him.

he cannot trust himself to be sober in these situations, he doesn’t want to imagine what he’d do with his evol even if the thought sends a thrill through him. he knows he has a problem, he’s just not going to deal with it.

not in a healthy way at least.

“caleb?”

he snaps out his thoughts, smiling down at where she’s laying on the floor in his dorm room. she’s supposed to be studying but she’s distracted and he shouldn’t enable her but he always does. she’s just too pretty, she has a face you cannot say no to and you’d be insane to disagree.


he’d like someone to disagree, that would be a fun day for him and a very unfortunate one for them.

“i’m listening” he lies. if he had been, he would’ve heard what she asked him and understand why she’s being all shy right now.

“wait.. what?” he sits up, looking at her properly. he definitely has a problem if he’s thinking about her so much and she’s right next to him.

“.. it’s stupid” she frowns

“it’s not” he reassures. he means it sincerely because he is willing to do whatever she wants. he hopes she doesn’t know that.

“i just .. i haven’t had my first kiss yet and i know some people think it’s a big deal and maybe it is but how will i know?” she looks up at him and she looks so upset by this so he tries not to panic.


was she seeing someone? did she like someone and that’s why she was thinking about kissing?

caleb could tell her it’s too early to worry about that and maybe she could just focus on college but that would be selfish of him. so selfish.

“i could teach you” he says and it’s out before his brain can even process any of that shit but it’s too late now because her eyes widen and she sits up so fast.

“what?” she asks because even he can’t believe what he just said.

“i just mean if you’re that curious” he smiles, playing it cool.

“you’d do that for me?” she stands now, moving to sit on his bed right in front of him and he will kill his roommate if the fucker comes back now.

“you know i would” he shrugs like it’s nothing even though his heart his beating so fast.

and that’s the thing about control, he always believed he was in control of everything in his life but the moment their lips touch, he feels his entire world shift and he doesn’t know if he’s breathing but she trusts him.

he has his hands on the side of her face before he can stop himself and she gasps softly into the kiss that he can’t help but lightly bite her bottom lip. she likes that, or so it seems because she doesn’t push him away.

her lips taste like the peach flavoured lipgloss she likes to wear and her skin is soft beneath his fingertips.

“is this okay?” he asks, running his thumb across her lower lip. she’s so beautiful, it hurts.

“yes…” she nods, “… can we do more?”

“more?” he tries not to show how excited that makes him.

“with tongue” she whispers

he doesn’t need to be told twice and her moan makes it hard to focus on anything other than her lips against his and how hard he suddenly is.

he slips his tongue into her mouth and she learns pretty quickly, he hasn’t even kissed anyone either but he’s seen enough videos and he’s always been a pretty fast learner himself and he would be damned if she had this experience with anyone that wasn’t him.

she moves closer, her arms around his neck and he can’t pull her onto his lap. if he’s being honest, he’s been hard since she said yes to the kiss but he would never want to overwhelm her. her first kiss is special because it’s them, he wouldn’t rush this.


that is something he can control.

“does that feel good?” he asks because her comfort is the most important thing to him.

“yes” she sounds less shy now, more like herself and she’s smiling so sweetly he can’t help but lean back in and this time she takes the lead and he likes how she lightly pulls at his hair. he didn’t know he’d be into that but he’s learning a lot about himself since being in college.

she climbs onto his lap on her own and if she feels how hard he is, she doesn’t comment on it which he appreciates. she’s always been considerate and just so perfect he thinks he might combust.

“put your hands .. on my waist” she tells him and he nods, as if he’s in some sort of trance now.

he’s not embarrassed about the grinding or the fact that he cums in his pants 10 minutes later. he’s still a fucking virgin and she doesn’t seem to care because she moans loud enough for him that he knows everyone down the hall heard her and only a small part of him hates that, he knows when he’s alone he’s going to be pissed that they heard how pretty she sounds but right now he wants to keep kissing her.

[lovecla]

MAKE IT TO THE MORNING ; JACK HUGHES

PAIR jack hughes x fem!reader

SUMMARY being jack hughes’ girlfriend comes with a lot of hardships— but in the mornings, you realize it is all worth it.

WARNINGS unedited, p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex (f. receiving), rough sex, p slapping, cockwarming, dirty talk, jack is lowkey a little shit, reader loves him tho, inspired by the song “make it to the morning” by partynextdoor. freaky af!!!

WORD COUNT 2,3k

FROM ME TO YOU a little late (literally, it’s like 3am for me), but this is my thank you gift for you guys because today i woke up with 700 of you!! i’m still too in shock to say anything besides thank you so much. i was celebrating 600 followers like a month ago and now this. i’ll keep working hard to give you guys good content <3 ily and pls enjoy

𖧷

don't scream or shout, i'm workin' my way down

girl, you gettin' loud, now put it in yo' mouth

THE SOUND of your heels clicking against the marble floor were enough to piss anyone off. It was annoying, repetitive and even you were starting to get tired of the little tec tec sound, but you couldn’t stop.

Dating Jack Rowden Hughes was not for the weak. And you knew that, more than anyone else. Being his girlfriend of three years— the longest time he has ever been in a relationship, mind you—, you knew that the prize was good, but the job of keeping it was tiring.

You stared at him across the room, talking to some random fans who definitely didn’t know what being a fan was, since they were all over him, with their hands on his arms and shoulders.

He eyed you from time to time, blue eyes making it hard for you to stay one hundred percent mad at him— truthfully, you knew that all it would take for you to forgive him for his playboy behaviour would be a single kiss and an aggressive make out session.

“It isn’t so fun watching from here, huh?” Quinn’s new fling, or whatever the girl standing beside you was, said, approaching you quietly. “Trust me, I know how it feels.”

You hummed, not engaging with her. You knew Jack wouldn’t actually do anything, but still, it didn’t feel nice to get painted as the dumb girlfriend who has to watch her famous boyfriend laugh and take pictures with hundreds of girls while she stands in the back.

“I’m lucky my Quinn isn’t as nearly as talkative as he is,” she continues, despite your silence. “But you know, Jack is everyone’s favorite.”

You turned your head to the side, watching the girl next to you eye Jack the same way she eyed Quinn, hungry and suggestive, and that was enough for you.

“Sorry,” you interrupted, putting your wine glass down— it had been empty for at least ten minutes— and smiling apologetically. “I have a terrible headache, so I think it’s time for me to head out.”

“Oh, sorry to hear that,” she pouts, and you can feel your eyes twitch. “It is pretty late too, so you must be tired.”

“Mhm.” You nod, looking at your phone. 3:46a.m.

“Do you want me to call Jacky?” She asks, expectantly, and the way she says his name makes you want to smash her face against the crumbles of cake sitting on the buffet table.

“No, no, it’s fine, don’t worry,” you play dumb. “It was nice seeing you…”

You forgot her name. It was probably something like Olivia or Madeline, but still. You didn’t remember.

“It was nice seeing you, too!” She says, apparently clueless to your lack of memory— and interest. “I’ll text you later so we can talk more.”

“Sure thing, yeah.” You walk towards Jack with long, careful steps. “Hey, babe.”

His eyes are on you immediately, his hair moving around with his abrupt move. He smiles, stepping out of the little circle the girls had made around him to wrap his arms around you.

“If it isn’t my favorite girl,” he says. “Hi, baby.”

You can feel the girls’ eyes on you, burning your skin like the fictional fairies’ whenever they touch iron. It is a feeling you are used to already, but you feel yourself shivering either way.

“Can we go?” You ask, bluntly ignoring the other women there. “It’s late.”

“Yeah, we can,” he nods, turning his head back to his little girl group before smiling at them. “See ya, ladies.”

See ya, ladies?

“Bye, Jack.”

“You’re the best!”

“See ya next time!”

You can’t hide your pout on your way home— you don’t even try to. You have your arms crossed in front of your chest as you sit in the front seat of Jack’s absurdly expensive car, listening to the quiet hum of his air conditioner and the annoying noise whenever he turns on the turn signal.

“You’re not mad… are you?”

His voice is tentative, almost as if he’s scared of asking the question.

“Are you kidding me? You spent half of that ridiculous party talking to women. Tell me I can’t be mad about that.” You hiss back, not looking at him. You know there are high chances of you folding bad if you do.

“Baby, I already told you, it’s all business,” he says, once again, because he has, indeed, told you that several times before. “I can’t have them saying I’m a rude guy, can I?”

“Sometimes I can’t believe the shit you say,” you scoff. “You literally told a reporter to fuck himself last week, on live. Talk about being a nice guy now, Jack.”

“Come on, you’re not being fair!” He exclaims, and you can hear the pout on his voice. “He talked shit about you. He was lucky I didn’t punch him in the face.”

You rolled your eyes, biting your lips to hide your smile.

Little does Jack know you jumped out of the couch when you saw the transmission and giggled while you sent texts to your best friend about how you would have to be the mother of his children.

You stayed silent, looking at the dark streets, briefly forgetting about your anger to notice how beautiful your city is. There weren't many people in the streets at that hour— it was summer, yes, but it was almost four a.m and it was still Monday, and a lot of people were still working.

When you got to your and Jack’s apartment— a two bedroom penthouse with plenty of space and a kitchen you still fell in love with every time you looked at it— you didn’t waste time before heading to the guest bathroom shower, a clear sign that you didn’t want Jack to join you, which you knew pissed him off.

You were quick even though you weren’t sleepy, washing the soap off your body under the lukewarm water; happy because it was your favorite scent.

You got out of the stall, opening the bathroom door after you wrapped the towel around your body, deciding to change inside your bedroom.

Or at least that’s what you thought you would do.

“Y/n.” Jack calls you, sitting on top of the bed.

“Fuck, Jack,” you grunt. “You scared me.”

“I can’t have you mad at me, baby,” he says, getting up and walking towards you, only stopping when your covered chest is touching his. “You know those women mean nothing.”

“Jack,” you sigh. “We’ve been here before. You can’t just say that every time you flirt with other women.”

“I wasn’t—” he starts, but interrupts himself mid sentence. “You’re making shit up.”

“Am I?” You ask, holding the towel tighter. “You damn well I’m not.”

“Listen,” he says. “I’m not proud with the way I acted but I already told you—”

“It’s all business. I know, you know, we all know.” You roll your eyes, stepping back and moving forward so you can leave the room. His hand finds your waist almost immediately, locking you in place. “Jack—”

“You’re so full of complaints, baby,” he whispers. “Every time we go out you complain about something.”

“I wouldn’t complain if you didn’t give me reasons to.”

He clicks his tongue, running his fingers over your naked arms. You shiver slightly, hoping he doesn’t see it. “You want more?”

“More what?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows.

“More reasons to complain,” he continues, chuckling as he lowers his head and hides it in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. “Real reasons to complain.”

“Wha—”

“Because I’ll give them to you, if you want to,” he licks your skin, and you can feel yourself start to malfunction. He’s a little shit, you think, as you slowly start to give in. He’s a little shit and I’m in love with him. “Or I can keep your mouth full so you can’t complain anymore.”

He stands up straight again, staring at you while his fingers move to where you were holding your towel.

“What’s your pick, baby?” He whispers, removing your grip from the soft fabric around your body, letting it fall on the floor, like a puddle of water on your feet.

You’re fully naked, and he can’t even pretend he’s not looking— he is. He always is.

Jack kisses you with hungry, tender lips. He holds your neck while he licks your lips with his tongue, hot and messy. He tastes like beer and you hate it, but you cannot get enough.

You wrap your own arms around his neck, holding him so close to you you could feel his heartbeat. Kissing him never got old, and if you were to write down your top ten favorite things about Jack Hughes, his kiss would definitely be number one.

You breathe in his scent, your favorite ever since you met him, and you can feel your legs start to give in, just like the rest of your body. It’s late at night, almost morning, your body can’t keep up with your mind and you want to tell Jack to fuck off.

Yet.

“Come on, baby,” he whispers against your lips, as he guides you to the bed, laying you down with your hips on the edge of it. “Let me give you something to make noise about.”

That’s the only warning you get before he gets his knees on the floor and separates your legs, leaving you open and exposed. You feel his fingers spreading your lips open, and when his tongue finds its way to your clit, all of your previous complaints are gone.

You close your legs around his neck, holding him in place, while he puts on a show for you, his fingers tracing the wetness pouring out of you.

You let out a soft moan, holding his hair with your hands, not bothering to be gentle. His tongue found your clit again, rubbing it in slow, circular motions.

“Jack.”

You trash under him as he flicked your sensitive nub with his mouth, the wet noises making you want to disappear. Jack always seemed pleased to go down on you, but you still aren’t used to this fact about him.

“So sweet, baby,” he murmurs, the vibrations of his words sending shivers down your spine, as he dives in again.

He has you curling your toes and arching your back, moaning his name loud and proud, but still, he doesn’t stop. He slides his arms under your thighs, holding you in place by gripping your waist, hard.

He has you coming in under five minutes— it’s a shame it’s over so soon, but what can you do, really. He looks up at you between your thighs, and the sight alone has you moaning, desperate for something else.

You pull his hair, gently, signaling to him that you wanted him up, closer to you, and so he does. He kisses you again, and you get to taste yourself on his lips, moaning loudly inside his mouth when you feel his dick trapped between his body and yours.

“Jack,” you whisper again, placing both of your hands on his cheeks. “I need you.”

“Yeah. I can see that.” He says, chuckling as he gets off you and removes the rest of his clothes.

He slides inside you with no hesitation or whatsoever, knowing too well that your inside’s have his print all over it. You both moan loudly, louder than you should be moaning at four something in the morning, but you can deal with the complaint letter later.

He holds your legs together, pressing them against your chest, almost folding you in half. He is being rough, something you absolutely want to kill him for, but you let yourself enjoy the roughness for a moment; you can scold him later.

You can feel him deeper now, as your body gets dragged up and down against the mattress, making you want to scream.

“You’re wet,” he says through his teeth and you can tell he’s also giving in. “Y/n, fuck.”

You’re clenching around his length as he strokes your G spot, dragging his dick against your walls, once again making sure you can take everything he gives you.

“Harder.” You hear someone ask, probably yourself, and you also hear his low chuckle. “Not enough.”

“Still complaining?” He asks, but doesn’t give you time to answer. Instead, he removes his right hand from your waist and does the one thing he knows it will have you drooling and begging under him.

He slaps your pussy. The wet, loud sound that fills the room makes you squirm, unconsciously trying to remove yourself from his hold. But he’s stronger, always has been.

“Take it, baby.”

He then slaps you again, and again, and so many times you stop counting. The feeling of his cock throbbing inside you, and his rough slaps against your clit is enough to make you come, leaving you almost lifeless under him.

“Good girl, Y/n,” he says, kissing your lips, briefly. “I’m gonna come, fuck.”

“Inside, please,” you hear yourself mumbling, and you’re not even sure if Jack hears it.

“What was that, baby?” He asks, his thrusts getting sloppy.

“Inside?”

“Fuck,” he curses. “I’m—”

He cums inside you, the familiar feeling making you sigh with bliss. You are both panting, the room smells of sweat, alcohol and sex, and you swear you can see the sun start to rise through the bedroom’s floor to ceiling windows.

You’re just about to tell Jack you want to go to sleep when you feel him start to pull out, which has you protesting, immediately.

“No, I— sleep inside, please?”

His blue eyes are staring down at you, and now, there’s a hint of a smile plastered on his face. He nods once, manhandling you around until you’re under the sheets, with your back glued to his chest, and his length still nestled inside you.

“Well, if you’re still mad at me,” he whispers. “At least we made it to the morning, huh?”

“Shut up,” you whisper back, barely hiding your smile. “If you keep talking, there won’t be any other morning.”

He laughs, kissing the top of your head. “Very well, then.”

𖧷

NHL MASTERLIST. JACK HUGHES MASTERLIST

[rinffection]

♡ Sickeningly Sweet!

How blue lock boys show you how sweet they are to their girlfriend!

featuring! Isagi Yoichi, Meguru Bachira, Itoshi Rin, Seishiro Nagi & Chigiri Hyoma.

a/n : hellloooooo :3 back with some blue lock head canons, ahhhhh!!!!!! Anyways I’m writing this as I watch the shining so plz spare with me.

notes : mxf, afab!reader, sfw headcanons, NOT PROOFREAD

ISAGI YOICHI!

definitely compliments you on dates! — whether your outfit or face :3

when he sees something that reminds him of you, he buys it for you immediately!

after scoring a goal, his eyes immediately go to find yours. When he does, he gives you a big puppy smile.

adding to above, he would text you instantly after the game, asking if he did well today or if you saw that goal he shot!

late night calls after a whole day of soccer training! He actually sleeps better after hearing your voice.

he always holds your hands when you guys walk together.

sends you a bunch of lovey dovey TikTok’s, when he has time, of course.

whenever he gets jealous, it’s always in a cute way. he wouldn’t start a fight but instead he would hug you a little tighter after the guy is gone.

loves to make those cheesy couple TikTok’s with you! He actually enjoys it a lot.

MEGURU BACHIRA!

THE MOST PLAYFUL PUPPY EVER!! He will literally cuddle with you every chance he gets.

okay but his love language is just physical touch. He loves hugging or giving you kisses all over your face!

he likes drawing little doodles of you and him on his notebooks whenever he’s not paying attention in class.

likes to send you voice messages during evening’s all about his day, and loves when you send back too :3

since he’s always playing soccer by himself, he likes to drag you with him so he can teach you to play as well!

adding to above, he would pat you on the head with his golden smile whenever you do something correctly.

likes to have sleepovers with you! (mostly so he can cuddle with you when he goes to sleep)

whenever your frustrated over something, he lets you rant to him like he’s your bestie.

he will lay down with his head in your lap while he yaps to you.

doesn’t mind doing your girly stuff with him. As long as you have your pretty smile on your face, he’s happy!

ITOSHI RIN!

like a lot of people say, he doesn’t like showing PDA, but when it’s just the two of you in a room, he’ll immediately become a clingy puppy.

you might think he’s nonchalant, but he actually remembers every little thing about you! Whether it’s a habit you have or your favourite snack.

he buys you things without telling. Like if you were eyeing a necklace or a snack, he would buy it for you :3 (even if you don’t say anything)

regularly checks up with you via texts!! He’ll message you good night and good morning texts, and sometimes ask ‘did you eat?’ or ‘it’s getting late, you should go to sleep’.

he likes to keep things that remind you of him in his room — whether it’s a present, card, a trinket from the date you guys recently went or even photos of you two! He acts like he doesn’t care, but he actually does….

Rin always waits for you! after class, training, for a date or after a game, he would wait for you so you can walk with him! (He wants to make sure you’re safe when you walk home and that no guys hit on you.. lol.)

rants to you about sae and the ‘annoying’ teammates he has to deal with because he trusts you! While you guys cuddle on the couch or bed, of course.

DEFINITELY lovesssss giving you forehead kisses! He thinks it’s cute how you’re shorter than him.

cares for you. And when I mean he cares for you, I mean he would give an icy glare to whoever’s making you feel sad. (and sometimes it wouldn’t be just a glare….)

gives you his jacket or hoodie when you’re cold. It’s a quiet gesture, but he doesn’t need you shivering or catching a cold, and sometimes, he lets you keep it. It smells like him anyways!

watches your favourite shows or movies with you! He might grumble about how ‘this is so boring,’ but he actually secretly enjoys spending time with you— even if he had to watch your girly stuff with you.

SEISHIRO NAGI!

pulls you into naps with him! He loves sleeping, but he also loves you.. so why not both together?

lets you play with his hair. he probably doesn’t like it when others do it, but when it’s you, go wild.

always has your hair tie on his wrist. You don’t go a day without seeing it on his arm. (or maybe he’s just too lazy to take it off)

loses video games just for you to win. And when you ask about why he seems to be lacking, he’ll reply with ‘dunno, I guess I was distracted by you’.

lazy pecks on the lips. Sometimes it’s to shut you up while he’s gaming or sleeping— but he likes seeing you blush after anyways.

his go-to dates are definitely sleepovers, just so he can cuddle with you while watching a movie or something. (also, it’s because he’s too lazy to go out, lol.)

asks you to feed him because apparently, eating is too much of a hassle.

teaches you how to play a video game he likes — just so you can play with him!

makes you wear his hoodies, and sometimes, he even lets you ‘borrow’ it! He actually likes seeing you in his clothes, especially when it’s a bit too big for you.

shows you off. Like when someone asks him about his packed bento that you made for him, he’ll nonchalantly say ‘my girlfriend made it for me.’

CHIGIRI HYOMA!

LETS YOU BRAID HIS HAIR!!! Since he has long hair, he lets you style it however you want. (even if it ends up looking like a funny mess)

he’ll tie or braid your hair for you. Since he has long hair, he basically knows how to tie and braid hair like the back of his hand.

hear me out…. he discusses hair products with you. Sometimes even lets you share his favourite hair mask!!

buys you your favourite flowers every time you guys have a date together. It’s a way of showing how much he cares.

matching always. When you get him something matching, like a bracelet or necklace, he insists on keeping it on every day.

he’s probably the person who takes you out on the BEST dates. Like this guy lives for aesthetics. Just imagine him taking you out to watch the sunset, canoeing down a pretty river or finding amazing small cafe’s to try out with you!

soft/hard launches you on Instagram. He posts you on his story, and always takes photos of the both of you going on dates to post onto his page!

he takes the best pictures of you, lol. You don’t even need to train him into taking good photos for your Instagram, he’s just naturally good at it. Usually after he takes the pictures, he’ll compliment you and say ‘it was all because of how pretty you are’.

writes short poems or notes for you. It’s one way of showing his love— through words!

celebrates every holiday with you. Whether it’s Christmas, Valentine’s Day, or Halloween, he goes out his way to celebrate it the best with you!

after notes! : Hai again everyone.. :3 I think you can probably tell who’s my favourite in here…. lol…. But anyways, lmk if you guys want any fics on these headcanons! :p

[covenofagatha]

Psychology Prof!Agatha

I literally can't get this out of my head so wanted to share some thoughts with you all (this also might be super nerdy but I'm obsessed)

Every time you call her mommy and spend hours sucking at her nipples and eating her out (she IS your oral fixation), she tells you that Freud would be rolling in his grave (except it turns her on just as much, if not even more, so what would he say about that?)

When you go for help during office hours for some clarification on projection tests, she shows you cards from the Rorschach Inkblot Test and asks what you see. All you see are vaginas and she proclaims that you must be horny, leading her to fuck you on her desk and then makes you try again. Little do you know, those are her own custom cards that she purposefully made look like that just so she'd have an excuse to fuck you.

When you get to the Behaviorism unit, you're struggling with the types of conditioning.

To demonstrate classical conditioning, she first rubs your clit (unconditioned stimulus) until you get wet (unconditioned response). She then sprays a new perfume (neutral stimulus) over herself and then does the same thing, teasing you until you get wet before fucking you. She repeats it a few times over the next few days, using the same perfume each time. It isn't until a week later in class, when you have a question about the worksheet that you're doing and she bends down over you to look at the paper over her shoulder, that you catch a whiff of her perfume (now the conditioned stimulus). The same perfume she wore before she fucked you each time this past week. Before you even realize it, you're wet and aching and practically dripping onto the seat, suddenly feeling so empty (conditioned response). She chuckles in your ear and you spend the rest of class absolutely dying.

For operant conditioning, you're confused with positive and negative reinforcement, and positive and negative punishment, so she decides to give you another hands-on lesson.

For positive reinforcement, the addition of a positive stimulus to reinforce a behavior, she gives you one orgasm for each hour of studying you do for her test. It's no time at all before you're spending practically the entire day, nose in the textbook, just so she'll touch you. When you get a one-hundred on her next test, she lets you choose one thing to do with her as a reward, which only makes you want to get more perfect scores on her test (you choose to fuck her with a strap and she now also wants you to keep getting perfect scores)

For negative reinforcement, the removal of a negative stimulus to reinforce a behavior, you've been procrastinating on the research project she gave the class and whining about how much work it is. Agatha is completely fed up with the way you've been acting and is annoyed that you won't just do the work, so she tells you that she won't let you cum until you finish it, but she's going to tease you endlessly. The edging is torture so you quickly get it all done before she finally lets you orgasm.

For positive punishment, the addition of an undesired stimulus to curb a behavior, she bends you over mommy's knee and spanks you hard for skipping out on studying to go a party with your friends. Safe to say when you try to sit down the next day and end up almost crying out, you learn your lesson

For negative punishment, the removal of a positive stimulus to curb a behavior, she waits until you've been bratty, after you've been teasing her in class the whole time, giving her fuck-me eyes and crossing and uncrossing your legs to give her a sneak peek of your naked cunt under your skirt. When she's finally able to get her hands on you, she bends you over her desk and fucks you hard and rough and right as you're about to cum, right as you're begging please mommy, she stops and doesn't let you. Your least favorite style of operant conditioning quickly becomes negative punishment but you don't try to tease her in class again.

You understand Behaviorism a lot better now.

[ferrarifinnick]

FOCUS | KANG DAE-HO (PLAYER 388) AU

pairing: dae-ho (player 388) x gymgirl!reader AU genre: fluff; in an alternate universe where dae-ho doesn't enter the games. warnings: rewritten! suggestive content, shy!dae-ho, dae-ho checking reader out, lust, confrontation, sweat, partial nudity ? (sports bra), flirting, teasing, intimidation, a man who YEARNS. wc: 1.2k summary: dae-ho can't keep his eyes off his gym crush, but she has some things to say about his manners.

dae-ho tried to focus on lifting the dumbbells. the stretch of his muscles, the music playing softly in the background of the gym, he tried to focus on it. but his gaze kept drifting to you. clad in only sweatpants and a sport bra, you lifted nearly as much weight as him, but unlike dae-ho, you made it look easy. the only giveaway was the shiny gleam of sweat on your body.

it was just sweat. it wasn’t unlike anyone else hard at work in the gym, and it certainly wasn’t anything to be enamoured by. but if that were true, why couldn’t he tear his eyes away from it? away from you.

every time you dropped the bar and took a quick rest, he snapped his head back down to his shoes and tried to look busy. he fiddled with his shoe laces, pulled up his socks, even redid the topknot holding up half his hair. all to hide from your suspicion.

he gave it another moment before he took one last glance, only this time, you were staring right back at him.

he dropped his head before you could see the heat rushing into his red cheeks. his water bottle suddenly a point of fascination as he examined and drank from it, hoping to blend in. to seem normal. like your hands on your hips and the scowl you shot him wasn’t frightening.

dae-ho decided to call it a day. he pulled the hoodie over his head, snatched up his belongings, even readied his car keys to make a quick escape as he fled to the exit. he rushed past a little old lady power-walking on a nearby treadmill, but her pace was no match for dae-ho’s. he reached the door, could see the light of day pouring in from the street outside, he could see freedom.

so why did he turn around to look at you one last time?

more importantly, why weren’t you still at your machine? he glanced around, catching sight of so many girls but not one of them was you.

"looking for me?"

his head whipped around so fast it nearly unscrewed and fell to the floor. you stared up at him, hands on your hips, waiting for an explanation.

dae-ho's lips opened and closed, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't force any words out of them. the narrowing of your eyes didn't help him find his voice, and the impatient sigh only made him shudder.

"well?" you urged. “why have you been staring at me for half an hour? what’s your problem?”

dae-ho swallowed. "i'm sorry, you're just–" really fucking hot, he wanted to say, but his mother would ring him by his neck if she ever heard him speak to a girl like that. those were thoughts to remain in his head, where they belonged.

"i'm just what?" you asked, and the frustration seemed to only be simmering with his silence.

"pretty," he blurted before he could help it, and the heat burned his cheeks the moment it dawned on him that he'd said it not only out loud but straight to your face. "i mean, that's not what i meant–i mean you are pretty, beautiful actually, but–no, that's not–" he let out an overwhelmed whine, squeezing his eyes shut as a last resort to escape you.

you reached out, the palm of your hand resting gently on his forearm. he nearly flinched at your touch, but when he caught the glint of amusement in your eyes, he relaxed.

"hey," you cooed. "i'm only messing with you."

the relief washed over his face and every tightened muscle suddenly released. “oh,” he said, unsure if he should laugh or run out the door. but when you giggled, he changed his mind and wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole. he didn’t know much about impressing girls, but he knew it was never a good sign for one to laugh in his face.

“where were you running off to?” you asked, gesturing to the car keys hanging from his index finger.

“oh, just… home,” he said, and immediately cursed internally for not convincing you he lived a more exciting life.

you hummed, unconvinced. “seemed like you were in quite a big rush just to go back home,” you said, nodding down at his full bottle of water and weightlifting belt he hadn’t used during today’s gym session.

he slowly looked back up to you. “i was… tired,” he lied.

“bullshit,” you suddenly said, and his eyes flew open at your accusation. the crossing of your arms only pushed your breasts together, and he tried desperately to ignore the curve of them heaving up and out from under your sports bra. but the light was catching the sweat on your skin, and even though he had been raised better, he couldn’t help himself from glancing down for the fraction of a second.

he snapped his eyes back up to yours, but it was too late. you caught him. he knew for certain as your lips pulled into a smirk.

he gulped, desperately trying to swallow the lump in his throat in case you asked another question. but you didn’t, you just stepped closer, and dae-ho realised this was worse than anything you could ever say.

you didn’t touch him, but as he glanced down at the closing proximity of your bodies, he was afraid one deep breath would push his chest against yours. you glanced up at him, the light catching your mischievous eyes.

“you were running away from me, weren’t you?”

he was wrong. maybe your words were just as daunting as your proximity.

he didn’t have to worry about responding, because the sheepishness in his face said everything he couldn’t.

you smirked as you caught him glance down at your lips, and you swore you heard his breath catch in his throat. “aw,” you cooed again, and the way your eyes softened almost had his knees giving out. “do i make you nervous?”

your relentless gaze made him feel like his back was against the wall, caged by your presence, but really he had the whole gym behind him. he could run away, he could free himself, but some part of him, the one that enjoyed the thrill of your attention, forced him to stay put.

besides, what was the point? you were onto him, and saving face wasn’t something he could achieve anymore. so he finally swallowed that lump and nodded. “yes,” he said, because the sweat dripping down his temple wasn’t from weights but the weight of your gaze.

you suddenly grinned. “honest, i like that.” suddenly you reached into your pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. “i’m going to the cafe across the street,” you said, lifting up the paper for him to see five out of six stamps printed in it. “they do a great hot chocolate, and i’ve only got one more to buy until i get a free one.”

he nodded along. “that’s a good deal.”

you repressed the laughter bubbling in your throat and instead asked, “what’s your name?”

“dae-ho,” he said, and for the first time he sounded sure of himself.

you told him your name, and said, “dae-ho, would you like to come with me to the cafe?” you tapped the paper against his chest lightly, cheeks stretching as you grinned. “i’ll get you a hot chocolate?”

he processed your offer slowly, and although he had to study your face for any signs of mean spirited teasing, he eventually realised you were serious.

“yes!” he said, and quickly cleared his throat to try again, this time without being so eager. “yes!” he said again, but it came out just the same.

you grinned. “great answer, dae-ho.”

you lead him out onto the busy street of your gym, pointing out the cafe just a few doors down. it stood on the other side of the busy street, a stream of commuters and tourists blocking the path. you turned to dae-ho and offered him your hand.

“don’t want you running away again,” you teased, and he finally lost the sheepishness in his eyes.

he took your hand, and while it was much smaller than his, he felt comforted by your confidence as you pulled him across the street. but even in a sea of people, you were still the only one he could seem to focus on.

hehe i love subby dae-ho. please like, comment, reblog. love <3

[kisssukuna33]

HusbandSukuna! Who's never been the one to understand today's relationships. 50/50? No, his woman will never touch a single bill with her delicate fingers as long as he's alive and well.

HusbandSukuna! Who never understood the whole "giving your relationship time before proposing" thing. You aren't a real man if you drag out your relationship and take what you have for granted, Atleast that must have been what he was thinking when he put a big rock on your finger after dating for only 7 months.

HusbandSukuna! Who takes his role as your fiancé VERY seriously. He asked you to move in with him just right after he proposed. He does everything in he can to make sure you feel comfortable in his house. He even went as far to renovate half of the house to your liking despite your much protesting that it's not needed.

HusbandSukuna! Who checks everyday to see if you are wearing the ring he put on you. it almost become a habbit for him to kiss the ring in your finger every single morning. Not just in the morning, whenever you two hangout in the public he intentionally kisses it to give other people the signal that his girl is strictly taken.

HusbandSukuna! Who wants to get married as soon as possible but he respect your time and choices. He doesn't want you to get overwhelmed by this at all, so he waits patiently ( had to restraint himself from asking like 5 times)

HusbandSukuna! Who gets so freaking happy when you finally confront him about being ready for marriage. The moment those words slip from your mouth his hands instantly go to your waist to pull you closer, closer till your foreheads are touching, He places a warm kiss on your temple and the next thing you hear makes your heart warm and fuzzy.

"You are the best thing that ever happened to me, I promise to be the best husband and I swear on my life I will take care of you and protect you till I die, I love you"

HusbandSukuna! Who jumps straight into the wedding planning. He hears from his married friends how stressful wedding planning was to them and he determines to not make you experience any bit of the stress, He tries everything in his power to make things go smooth as possible.

HusbandSukuna! Who breakdown in tears the moment he saw you walking the aisle to everyone's shock. The grumpy tatted 6'4 scary big guy who has given them nothing but attitude crying over seeing the love of his life walking down aisle? Who would have thought.

HusbandSukuna! Who immediately intertwine your fingers with his as he looks into your eyes like he sees nothing but the whole world in them and wait no minute to whisper "The prettiest, mine"

HusbandSukuna! who finally breaks free from his staring as the wedding officiant clears his throat to let him know that there's a whole wedding left to finish.

Everyone expect him to do a short vow and get done with it. Sukuna isn't known as the most expressive guy after all, but to everyone's surprise the vow lasted whole 15 minutes!! It was filled with nothing but love and appreciation for you and the little grin plastered in his mouth at the end of the vow makes it obvious how proud he was of himself ( I mean practicing this costed him a years worth friend too, after he suggested Sukuna to add some dirty degrading sex joke about you in the vows he ended up punching the guy as a result, so hell yeah he's proud of this!)

HusbandSukuna! Who keeps the honeymoon destination as a surprise till last minute, and your heart fills with joy as you realize he took you back to the beach you two first met, a place special to you both.

He booked the hotel room with the best view to the beach as expected.

HusbandSukuna! Who's heart feel warm all of a sudden, it's only a year ago he believed himself to be someone who's unable to be loved. Oh how much have changed since then.

HusbandSukuna! Who takes your hand and drags you to the balcony for a dance.

The smell of the beach, evening lightening, sounds of the ocean..All adds to the atmosphere as you two get lost in yourselves.

HusbandSukuna! Who takes a glance at the beach and sees a young family, not much older than both of you playing in the sand with their little girl.

HusbandSukuna! Who has a small smile tugged at his lips as he mentally promises to himself that he will return here again after you two finally complete your own little family.

No grammar checks, forgive me I'm too lazy

What do we think about part 2?

[moody-alcoholic]

✨Freaky Friday✨

It's just filthy fucking porn from the start. Johnny being a little brat and a glutton for punishment after he pissed Simon off. Meanwhile reader is trying to keep it together.

Summary: poly141 x reader, but it's just Simon, Johnny and John. WC: 1.7k CW:+18 content MDNI. Sex, PiV sex, voyeurism, handjob, orgasm denial, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, gag.

Second part of this, because it really needed a second part.

Enjoy ya filthy animals <3

---

Johnny has the biggest grin on his face when he walks into John’s office. He already has his hand down his pants before he’s even sat down. His other hand gripping the papers John asked him to fix. You look down at John, your hands are round the back of his neck, you feel him twitch inside you. Johnny took a while to get here and John has just been letting you tease yourself on him while he mutters over paperwork.

Johnny sits down putting the papers on the desk. You hear his belt click and you move to get off John, but he stops you, you moan as your clit brushes his stomach. 

“You pissed Simon off.” John says as you clench around him burying your face into his neck, the brief contact with your clit makes you shiver.

“I made a joke, you know what he’s like.” Johnny says. John sighs his hands coming down to your hips. You think maybe now he wants you to get off him but instead he holds you in place. You pull your face out from his neck, he looks up at you with a shine in his eyes. 

“Made you run laps didn’t he?” John asks you, you nod holding back the moan as John lifts you up gently then lets you sink back down on him. With all the teasing you’ve been doing to yourself, you have to clench to keep yourself from coming. 

“John-” You breathe into his ear as you take over from his hands bucking your hips up and down. 

“No touching sergeant. I don’t think you’ve quite learned your lesson.” You sneak a look behind you to see Johnny with his fist wrapped around his cock. 

There’s a knock at the door, you stop moving, a chill runs up your spine.

“Don’t stop.” John purrs in your ear. He calls whoever is at the door in. You’re not even paying attention, it feels too good, rocking your hips back and forth on John. 

“Look at you Johnny. All pent up.” It’s Simon’s voice you turn slightly to see him moving over to Johnny. 

“Aye, Cap’s keeping her all to himself.” Johnny says, there's a strain in his voice. You hear Simon chuckle. John’s hands push your hips down on him holding you in place.

“Want to turn around? I think you’ll enjoy this.” He asks. You nod, even though you’re not quite sure what is going to happen. You step off him and turn around, Simon turns to see you and lends over the table to plant a kiss on your lips. John’s hand comes up your back, you thought you were going to sit back down on him but he gently bends you over the desk.

His fingers brush your clit then press against your entrance. Simon breaks away from the kiss and turns to Johnny. 

“Hands. Off.” He says as he reaches over gripping Johnny’s cock with his gloved hand. Johnny moans, shuffling in the chair. John presses his fingers into you. You reach out gripping the edge of the desk. 

“At least let me watch.” Johnny asks. You look up to watch Simon move to the side so Johnny can see you bent over the desk with John thrusting his fingers into you. 

“Christ, you’re a sight ain’t you, lass.” Johnny says, leaning back in the chair. You don’t know how to respond, John’s other hand has worked its way to your clit. His fingers rub tight circles in time with his fingers pressing inside you. 

“Is this what I get for running my mouth?” Johnny asks squirming in the chair. Simon stops shaking his head. 

“That mouth of yours is nothing but trouble.” You watch as Simon takes the glove off his hand, Johnny’s eyes following Simon's hands.

"Thought you liked this mouth of mine." Johnny winks at him. 

“Open.” Simon says cupping his chin. Johnny obeys and Simon pushes the glove in his mouth. “There, maybe we’ll get some peace and quiet now.” You hear John chuckle behind you as Simon goes back to pumping Johnny’s cock with his hand. John speeds up and you moan, tightening around his fingers. 

“You close love?” You hear John ask as you start squirming on the desk, you nod. 

“What about you sergeant?” You look over at Johnny trying to keep still in the chair, his knuckles turning white as he grips the seat. He nods frantically, you look up at Simon, you can’t see his expression at all but you can tell by the way he’s moving his hand he’s enjoying this. 

“John-” You call, your fingers gripping the desk tighter. 

“Go on love, cum for us.” You moan out as you let go, pulsing round John’s fingers as he rides you through the orgasm. You look over at Johnny his head tipped back like he’s about to cum too, but Simon stops removing his hand. Johnny lets out a frustrated groan as you watch his cock twitch against his stomach. He looks up at Simon with wide pleading eyes. 

“What’s the matter Johnny?” Simon says moving his hand back down, he runs his thumb over the tip. Johnny moans, squeezing his eyes closed. You watch him as Simon teases him, each time he looks like he’s going to spill over the edge he moves his hand away.

You feel John replace his fingers with the head of his cock. John bends down and you turn your head so he can kiss your cheek. 

“You ready, love?” He asks. You nod. “C’mon use your words.” 

“Yes sir.” You say turning to kiss him. 

“Good girl.” He says as he presses into you. You moan loud, your mouth hanging open as he stretches you out. You hear Johnny’s muffled moan and you look up at him. It almost looks like there’s sweat building up on his forehead.

John lets out a satisfied groan as his hands run up your back. “You’re missing out.” John says as he thrusts his hips. “She’s so tight, practically sucking me in.” You watch as Johnny squeezes his eyes closed, you hear a dark chuckle from Simon. 

“Maybe now you’ll learn not to fuck with your superiors, huh?” Simon asks but Johnny doesn’t even moan in reply, his eyes still closed. Simon stops his hand and Johnny’s eyes immediately snap open. He grumbles, you can tell he’s trying to say something. You almost want to tell Simon to stop being mean, but then again, he did make you run all those laps. 

“Aww, c’mon Johnny, you can handle a little more.” Simon says, starting to move his hand again. John’s hands move to your hips, gripping the soft skin. You relax onto the table for him, arching your back so he can hit the soft spongy spot inside you easier. 

“Tell him how it feels.” John says, running his hands up your side. You look up at Johnny who looks like he can barely keep it together. You can barely keep it together the sound of Johnny’s moans and John slapping into you ringing in your ears. 

“Don’t get shy now.” Simon says his free hand reaching over to stroke your cheek. 

“Feels. Good.” You manage to say looking up at him. Johnny’s eyes meet you, you can see him biting down hard on the glove in his mouth, humming as Simon keeps pumping his cock.

“See what you’re missing out on Johnny.” Simon says letting go of your cheek and turning back to Johnny. “See how pretty she looks, you could've had all of that.” 

Johnny’s eyes are wide, you can’t help smiling at him. One of John’s hands reaches under to press on your clit, his other hand pushing down on the small of your back. You’re fighting with him to keep your body straight, it doesn’t help as vibrations pulse through you with each pump of his hips. 

You’re trying to keep eye contact with Johnny but it’s getting harder, your body starts to squirm under John’s grip. 

“John, I-I’m close.” 

“Yeah you are love, nice and tight round my cock, taking every inch of me.” John says, his voice grumbling as he drives into you faster, his fingers pressing hard against your clit.

“Yes sir, anything for you.” You say, your cheek is pressed against the desk.

“What do you think, lieutenant, put him out of his misery?” John asks, you look over to see Johnny nodding frantically, panting and moaning. It sounds like he’s trying to talk again, you don’t know why that makes your pussy tingle. 

“Think he's learned his lesson.” Simon says, his voice low. You smile at him, you can’t hold back any longer, tipping your head back and closing your eyes as you cum. John cums too, throbbing inside you as he rides you through another orgasm. When you open your eyes you see Johnny cum, pale seed spilling over Simon's hand. 

You’re surprised he managed to keep the glove in his mouth. You’re used to Johnny being so vocal when he comes, this is a stark difference. You feel John pull out of you and sit back down on his chair. You move your hands to press yourself off the desk. 

Simon takes the glove out Johnny’s mouth moving his other cum covered hand up to Johnny’s mouth pressing his fingers past his lips. You stand up watching Johnny lick Simon’s hand clean. John reaches over gripping your hips and pulling your trousers back up. Simon pulls his hand out of Johnny’s mouth whipping the saliva on his thigh. 

Johnny is leaning back in the chair with a grin on his face watching Simon walk round the other side of the desk to you. Simon’s arm comes round your waist pulling you against him. 

“C’mon, let's leave Price to finish his paperwork in peace. He’ll be here all night if we keep distracting him.” He says, you look up at him and he plants a kiss on your lips. You hum into his mouth, feeling his tongue press against yours.

He breaks from the kiss first and you both look over at Johnny tucking himself back into his pants. 

“Same time tomorrow then LT?” He says as he stands up. You let out a sigh, Johnny winks at you and you hear John chuckling behind you. 

“Please don’t make us run laps tomorrow.” You plead with Simon, after today you don’t know if your legs can take it. 

“No, no. I have something better in mind.” He says as he leads you out of John's office.

---

[lotuswish]

˗ˏˋ how they hold your hand (housewardens & jamil) ⭑ .ᐟ

synopsis: fingers intertwining, a gentle squeeze, the warmth of a palm against yours—how each boy holds your hand says more than words ever could. from shy, lingering touches to firm, protective grips, every gesture is a glimpse into the way they love.

featured character(s): riddle rosehearts, leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto, kalim al-asim, jamil viper, vil schoenheit, idia shroud, malleus draconia.

content warning(s): none.

a/n: just a cute and silly idea i had at 3am. :3

riddle rosehearts

riddle holds your hand like it’s a delicate porcelain teacup—carefully, with just enough pressure to keep it secure. at first, his fingers are a little stiff, his cheeks faintly pink as he focuses on not fumbling. he tries so hard to get it just right, and when he feels your fingers relax in his, his grip softens, almost shyly. he’ll sneak a glance at your face, and if he catches you smiling, his hold tightens slightly, a quiet boost to his confidence.

“i hope… this isn’t too forward,” he says softly, his voice careful and deliberate, though his gaze lingers on your joined hands with the faintest hint of pride.

leona kingscholar

leona’s hand intertwines with yours with effortless confidence, his hold firm yet unhurried, carrying a subtle possessiveness—like your hand was always meant to be in his, and he has no intention of letting go. his fingers slide between yours with ease, and he occasionally shifts your hands against his leg or his side, keeping you close without making a fuss. if you try to pull away, even as a joke, he’ll tug you back with a low grumble, his tail flicking once beside him in annoyance.

“don’t start something you can’t finish, herbivore,” he drawls, his tone low and gruff. though he acts nonchalant, deep down, it's his way of keeping you close without having to say it out loud.

azul ashengrotto

azul holds your hand like he’s trying to make the perfect impression, his fingers enveloping yours carefully, almost methodically. his palm is cool, and every so often, his grip tightens subtly, like he’s testing the waters to see if this is really okay. though he maintains his composed expression, his gaze flickers nervously between your face and your joined hands. when he sees your reassuring smile, the faintest flush of pink spreads across his cheeks, despite his efforts to stay collected.

“i trust this arrangement is… satisfactory?” he asks, his voice soft and composed, but the way he clears his throat afterward betrays his nerves.

kalim al-asim

kalim grabs your hand without hesitation, his fingers threading through yours in a fluid, lively motion, like he’s been waiting to do it all along. his grip is strong and eager, a comforting warmth radiating from his palm. the giddy smile on his face makes it clear that your touch is his favorite thing in the world. as you walk, he swings your joined hands, and every so often, he’ll squeeze your hand gently or press it against his chest when he’s particularly excited about something.

“i’m so glad you’re here with me,” he says, his voice bubbling with joy, as though holding your hand is the highlight of his day.

jamil viper

jamil holds your hand with calculated ease—his touch appears casual, but every movement is deliberate. his fingers lace with yours slowly, his grip just firm enough to keep you close without drawing attention. to anyone else, it might seem detached, but the way his fingers subtly shift to match your movements or the faint, almost unnoticeable tension in his shoulders reveals the truth: he’s hyperaware of you.

he doesn’t say much, but after a quiet moment, he glances at your hands and murmurs, “you don’t have to hold on so tightly,” his tone calm, though the slight squeeze he gives your hand betrays just how much he doesn’t want you to let go.

vil schoenheit

vil holds your hand with an air of practiced elegance, his fingers lacing with yours smoothly, as if even the smallest gestures between you deserve the utmost intention and care. his grip is steady and purposeful, his hand fitting perfectly against yours. sometimes, he’ll lift your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your knuckles before letting his fingers curl a little tighter around yours.

“your hands are quite lovely,” he murmurs, his tone carrying its usual polished air, but softer, more personal. “i suppose i shouldn’t be surprised—everything about you tends to draw the eye.”

idia shroud

idia starts by linking pinkies with you, his hand hovering awkwardly at first. his skin is warm and a little clammy, his nerves written in the way his fingers twitch slightly. after a few moments, he works up the courage to slide the rest of his fingers into place, his grip loose but earnest. his hand fidgets slightly against yours, like he’s still adjusting, but when he notices you’re not letting go, a shy, genuine smile tugs at his lips.

“uh… your hand’s… really warm,” he mutters softly, his voice unsteady as the tips of his hair flicker pink. “it’s… kinda nice, actually.”

malleus draconia

malleus holds your hand with a quiet reverence, his long fingers intertwining with yours with a gentle but steady grip. his touch carries a subtle chill, and there’s a deliberate care in the way he adjusts his hold, as if mindful of not startling you. occasionally, he lifts your hand slightly, aligning his palm with yours as if to compare their size. his fingers slowly curl around yours again, his touch gentle and his gaze filled with quiet wonder, as though the contrast holds a meaning only he can understand.

“your hands are small, child of man,” he says softly, tilting his head as if deep in thought. “yet they feel as though they were meant to be held by mine.”

congrats on making it to the end! if you enjoyed this, likes, comments, follows, and reblogs are always appreciated—they help motivate me to keep creating and sharing!

[umamaki]

HOW'S THE VIEW FROM UP THERE?

1/5 of my valentine's day event!

sylus x reader

CW reader with female anatomy, explicit smut, established relationship, kinda cutesy domestic imo, pet names, oral sex (f!receiving), oral slight teeth... wc. 0.9k

NOTE pls bear with me. drafting this was the hardest thing i’ve done and i think i genuinely forgot how to write.

You lean against the headboard, unmoving as Sylus lays on top of you. He’s on his stomach and his head rests just below your chin. You’d believe he’s asleep if not for his fingers absentmindedly tapping against your ribcage.

It’s out of the blue, but you can’t shake the urge to tell him the thought that just came to mind. A hand reaches down to play with his hair, lightly twirling his strands and scratching his scalp. He groans in contentment. The room’s silence had been broken and you take it as your chance. 

“Y’know, Sylus…”

You trail off, vaguely shy. He waits before prodding you on, “yes, what is it?”

“I… quite like this view of you.” He raises his head now, still confused. You continue, “I mean, seeing the top of your head like this. I like it. I like it a lot.”

There was truth in your words. Sylus is typically the one who towers over you, the one is used to seeing the top of your head. And so you’ve grown to cherish the moments in which he feels comfortable to be in a vulnerable position around you, offering his body to you, allowing you to touch him wherever you please. Though, the thought of not doing so had never once crossed his mind. 

So it intrigues him, what you had said. “Is that so?” You nod. He brings himself to hover face to face with you, “and what other times do you see the top of my head?”

You look up to think. He appreciates the way your lashes flutter against your cheeks and how your lips subconsciously pout when you’re lost in thought. 

“Well… When you carry me on your shoulders, when you tie my shoelaces, or right now when you lay on me, and um,” your voice lowers in saying the last part; you’re still a little embarrassed. 

But Sylus has never been a believer of shame. He’s smirks down at you now, a spark of excitement in his eyes. “Could you repeat that last part for me, sweetie?”

“You heard me.” You stand your ground.

“I did not,” he feigned innocence, eyebrows raised, “please?”

“I said, I like seeing the top of your head when you.. go down on me, too.” Your hands come up to cover your face in embarrassment as quickly as Sylus raises his to remove them from your face. 

“If you wanted me to eat you out, you could’ve just asked me to, dear.”

He laughs when you push his forehead back. The trail of kisses he leaves from your jaw to collarbone tickles and you give in, “fine, go on then,” your legs spread open for him, you sink back into the sheets, an invitation for him.

“Not feeling shy anymore, hm?” Of course he gives into your wishes, but it isn’t Sylus if he doesn’t at least ruffle you up beforehand. He licks a teasing stripe up through the fabric of your panties, eyes never breaking away from yours. “How’s the view now?”

His hot breath mingles with the wet patch on your underwear as he speaks directly into your cunt. You’re too pent up to entertain his teasing. An impatient hand pushes his face back down onto your heat, “view’s good, great. Please continue.”

You feel him smile into your cunt. He peels the fabric off, afterwards using his finger to separate the string of arousal that clung to your undergarment. The cold air of the room on your wet pussy makes you clench around nothing. “I can tell, you’re already drenched.”

He begins to lap at your slick folds before you can get a word back in. He eats you out like a man starved; never once coming up for air, but inhaling the scent of your heat so intensely that his back rises and falls with each deep breath. 

His hands are splayed out on each of your thighs, keeping your legs apart, allowing himself to relentlessly continue lapping up your leaking juices, savoring your taste on his tongue. Your legs shake under his grip as he switches between flattening and tensing his tongue, pushing the muscle up your cunt and through your folds. His nose bumps into your clit, sending a jolt up your body.

“Oh my god—Sylus—” the stimulation draws out breathless moans and whimpers from your lips and he’s enjoying every sound of it, “Sylus, m’close.”

“Yeah? Gonna come on my face baby?” His red eyes lock with your pleading ones before shifting his appreciative gaze down to the marks on your tits and the crease in your tummy, then back onto your eyes.

“Mhm—” 

“Now tell me,” his bruising grip on your legs pushes them up, knees reaching your ears, “you cumming because of the view? Or because of my tongue on your pussy?” He had always been so brazen with his words, never filtering his vulgar language. For some reason, the fact turns you on extraordinarily. 

“B-both!” You had to stutter it out in between moans, using up the last of your coherence to respond to him.

“Good.” You’re immediately taken to your climax when he catches your clit between his teeth; he does it lightly, but the unexpected sharpness of it immediately sends your orgasm crashing through you. His tongue guides you through your release, unwavering, despite your thrashing body beneath him. The orgasm is intense and overwhelming, blurring your vision before finally making your body go slack against the sheets. 

At last, he relieves you from the overstimulation. Your sheen covers the entirety of his chin, and he’s shameless in licking his lips clean when he catches you staring. 

“Darling, I just might have a new favorite view after this.”

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