#and i can pick out outfits!! without getting insulted

[dollyswishingwell]

I'm obsessed with your writing style!! Can I request the Love and Deepspace guys the very first time they take you shopping, wanting to spoil you and pick out pretty things for you, but you're still a little uncomfortable?

ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ Hesitation

𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 ˙⋆✮ Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾��𝑔 ˙⋆✮ fluffff, reader is a bit awkward, i promise i’ll be going through all the requests soon. i hope this is good :D

> ࣪𖤐.ᐟ You didn’t realise they���ve been waiting their whole life to take care of you

𝙍𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙡 °‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You didn’t even realize where he was taking you at first. One minute, Rafayel was humming beside you in the sun-drenched car, legs loosely crossed, wrist lazily draped over his knee, then the next, you were standing in front of a boutique with marble steps and gilded trim, its window displays shimmering with silk and starlight.

You looked up at him, confused.

“I thought we were just grabbing food?”

He smiled, soft and lopsided. “We will. After.”

Your arms stayed crossed as he nudged the glass door open, the cool air inside fragrant with expensive perfume. You hesitated on the threshold like it burned. The place was pristine, curated for a kind of woman you never thought to be, draped in chiffon, light on her feet, untouched by blood or plasma discharge.

“I don’t need anything.”

“I know,” he said simply. “But I want to give you something.”

He was already drifting inside, fingertips brushing lazily across a rack of pale-colored dresses like he was feeling textures of coral under the sea. His eyes were sparkling, pink and blue both. Not because he cared about the fashion. But because you were here.

You stayed by the entrance like an idiot, hand still on your belt. Rafayel turned, noting the stiffness in your shoulders. Then he padded back to you, soft, catlike steps, always a little too close.

“You look scared,” he teased gently, leaning in like he was about to share a secret. “It’s not a trap. Unless you count being emotionally manipulated by a pretty man who loves you.”

You huffed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re beautiful,” he said without flinching. “And always wearing the same six hunter outfits. They don’t even have proper pockets. Let me give you something nice. Please.”

The word please lingered in the air, rare and sincere. It made your throat tighten.

He tilted his head. “You don’t have to like it. Just try something on. For me.”

His tone was so unassuming, so earnest in its quiet request, it disarmed you. A little part of you, tired, sore, always on alert, ached to be indulgent. Just for a second.

“…Fine,” you muttered, glaring at a display dress like it personally insulted you. “But if I look stupid, I’m blaming you.”

Rafayel beamed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Deal. I’ll take full responsibility. Emotionally, financially, spiritually.”

He plucked the hanger and draped it gently over your arm like a crown being placed on royalty. You rolled your eyes, but didn’t shake it off.

And when you returned from the fitting room, unsure, awkward, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, he stared at you like the stars had rearranged themselves just to form your silhouette.

“…Okay?” you asked, arms slightly lifted in a self-conscious shrug.

Rafayel didn’t answer. Not with words. He just stepped forward and reached out, cupping your cheek with a reverence that made your chest hurt.

“I want to wrap you in every soft, lovely thing,” he murmured. “So the world never gets to bruise you again.”

You swallowed thickly.

“…That’s not how it works.”

He smiled sadly. “I know. But let me try anyway.”

𝙕𝙖𝙮𝙣𝙚 ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

The boutique was quiet, too quiet. The kind with glass shelves, polished floors, and a single attendant too nervous to breathe loud. The walls were lined with elegant neutral palettes, coats and dresses hanging like art. You shouldn’t have been here. Not in your boots, not with your hunters permit still sticking awkwardly out from your ID.

You shot Zayne a look.

“This is a little much, isn’t it?”

He didn’t look at you, fingers trailing steadily along the hem of a soft camel coat, his expression unreadable behind silver-rimmed glasses. “You’ll need something appropriate for the hospital gala.”

“I have a black dress.”

He hummed. “The one you wore to a funeral.”

You flushed, defensive. “It’s still in good condition.”

“I’m sure it is,” Zayne said coolly, lifting the sleeve of a deep plum cashmere number and inspecting the stitching like it offended him. “But I’d rather not have the director’s wife think you’re in mourning.”

You scowled. “You said she wasn’t your type.”

“She isn’t,” he said mildly. “But I’d still rather not.”

That earned him a look. You hated shopping. It always felt… vulnerable. You weren’t used to the stillness. The hush of indulgence. You’d spent years with utility belts and reinforced boots, shopping was for people with soft hands and quiet jobs. People who didn’t deal in violence.

Zayne stepped closer, voice lower, a hand ghosting over the small of your back without quite touching.

“You don’t have to like it,” he murmured, tilting his head just slightly. “But I do want you to have something that makes you feel beautiful. Not just… armed.”

You paused.

That soft hum in his voice, that was the problem. The way he said beautiful like it was a diagnosis. Like he could see it whether or not you did. You didn’t know how to handle that.

Still, you hesitated. “…I’m not going to prance around in sequins.”

His lips tugged just faintly. “Noted. We’ll keep it understated.”

You narrowed your eyes, watching him pull a gown from a side rack. Sleek. Minimalist. No fuss. Elegant in the way he was, muted but unmistakably sharp.

He handed it to you. “Try this.”

“…What if I hate it?”

“You won’t,” he said plainly. “But if you do, I’ll find you something better.”

You stared at him, suspicious. “How do you know my size?”

“I’m a surgeon,” Zayne said flatly. “I could recreate your spine from memory.”

You blinked. Your mouth opened. Then shut.

He added, deadpan: “Don’t look so horrified. I meant that flatteringly.”

“…That wasn’t flattering.”

Zayne’s lips twitched again, like he was holding back laughter. He didn’t press. Just waited silently until you retreated into the changing room.

When you stepped out, he looked up from where he’d leaned against the edge of a display table. His eyes flicked over you once, slow, assessing, steady. No smirk. No flattery. Just… a quiet, deliberate stillness.

You shifted, uncomfortable. “Too much?”

“No,” he said simply.

You gave him a skeptical glance in the mirror. He stepped behind you, fixing the off-shoulder sleeve with a careful touch, the fabric gliding under his fingers. His scarred hands looked too rough for the material, and yet he handled it, and you, with absolute precision.

“You don’t have to wear it to the gala,” he said, his tone low, almost absentminded as he adjusted the fit on your shoulder. “But I’m buying it anyway.”

You turned to face him.

“Because it’s pretty?”

“Because you’re pretty,” he said without hesitation. “And I like watching you be reminded of it.”

That stopped your heart for half a second.

“…You’re ridiculous.”

“Mm,” he hummed. “And you’re stalling. Go change.”

You stomped back into the dressing room before he could see you blush.

𝙓𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧 ⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

You blinked up at the glittering storefront. Mannequins in flowing satin. Soft lighting. Gentle classical music humming in the background. The kind of boutique you passed without ever really seeing. Now here you were, standing just slightly to the left of Xavier, who was staring at the mannequins like they were alien lifeforms.

“…Are we lost?”

“No,” he said, almost serenely. “This is the destination.”

“…You brought me here on purpose?”

A small nod. His silver hair shimmered slightly under the soft lighting. His expression hadn’t changed since you left the train: calm, unreadable, borderline sleepy. But his hand was resting lightly against the small of your back, guiding you inside.

“I don’t need anything fancy,” you tried, already shrinking under the chandeliers. “I’ve got my uniform. I’m fine.”

“I know,” he said simply. “But I like seeing you wear soft things.”

That caught you off guard. You glanced at him, suspicious. “Soft things?”

He paused, thoughtful. “Like… clouds. Or the pastries you like. But on you.”

You blinked.

“…You mean dresses.”

Xavier tilted his head. “I mean things that look good when you spin in them.”

You didn’t even know what to say to that. You were still in your boots. Still carrying the tension of your last mission between your shoulders. You didn’t belong in a place like this.

As if sensing that, Xavier stepped in front of you, hands clasped behind his back. His voice was quiet, but steady. “Do you feel uncomfortable?”

“…A little.”

A beat.

“I will fix it.”

You blinked. “What—”

But he was already off, sifting through a row of garments with the exact same eerie calm he brought to dismantling illegal protocore traders. It didn’t matter if it was dress racks or combat briefings, Xavier was methodical, careful, and just slightly tilted from what was expected.

He returned with a gauzy lavender number draped over his arm. He held it out to you without a word. You stared at it.

“Try it,” he said simply.

“I’m not even sure it’s my color.”

“I am.”

You gave him a flat look. “And when did you become a fashion expert?”

“I’m not,” he said. “But I am very good at observing you.”

Your ears grew warm.

You reluctantly took the dress and disappeared into the fitting room. The whole time, you expected to look ridiculous. Like someone else entirely. But when you stepped out.

Xavier was already watching.

His expression didn’t change.

But something… softened.

He approached slowly, the tips of his fingers brushing over the hem of the dress like it might melt. Then, without a word, he reached up and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His gloved fingers didn’t touch your skin. But it still made your breath hitch.

“…You approve?” you asked, trying to sound dry.

“I do not understand what others consider beautiful,” he murmured. “But I like how you look. I like how you always look.”

You stared up at him. He was still expressionless. Still strange. Still not quite human in how he moved, or spoke, or tilted his head when he looked at you like the galaxy stopped turning.

And yet, your heart squeezed.

“…You’re being really weird.”

“I know,” he said softly. “But I’d like to buy it for you.”

You hesitated.

He added, “You don’t have to keep it. You don’t even have to wear it. But if I imagine you spinning once in it, in a room filled with light, then it’s worth it to me.”

You looked away, ears burning.

“…Fine. But only if I get to choose something you wear next time.”

Xavier nodded solemnly. “Deal. I will wear a pastry if you ask me to.”

“What— no, Xavier—!”

Too late. He was already at the counter, wallet in hand, gently coaxing the boutique worker to wrap it in tissue.

𝙎𝙮𝙡𝙪𝙨 ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩

You’d expected the mission briefing. Trying out new weapoms. Maybe some recon.

You had not expected Sylus to park the car outside a luxury fashion district and say, lazily:

“Get out. We’re shopping.”

You frowned at him.

“You’re joking.”

Sylus didn’t blink. Didn’t even look at you. Just adjusted the black blazer hanging off his shoulders and tilted his head slightly, the red crow brooch catching the light.

“Do I look like I joke?”

You muttered under your breath, “You look like someone with twelve armories and no sense of moderation.”

He smirked. “And you look like someone I’d rather not have wearing knockoff tactical gear while standing next to me.”

Your glare deepened.

“I like this gear.”

“It’s functional,” Sylus said airily, guiding you toward the automatic doors with a hand at your lower back. “But function doesn’t always win wars. Sometimes presence does.”

You knew better than to argue when he was in this mood, calm, smug, and quietly plotting something three steps ahead. He wasn’t just taking you shopping. This was a statement. And you had no idea what kind.

Inside, the boutique was all mirrors and low lighting. The kind of place that didn’t display price tags, just power. A clerk stepped forward. Sylus didn’t speak to her. He just gave her a look, and she vanished into the back to fetch whatever he wanted.

You stood stiffly. He leaned against a gold-trimmed display table, watching you with idle amusement.

“I don’t need you to buy me things,” you muttered.

“I didn’t ask what you needed,” he replied smoothly. “I do what I want.”

You crossed your arms. “Why?”

That made him pause. His red eyes flicked toward you, sharp and gleaming. Then, softly:

“Because I like the idea of you wrapped in luxury. Because I enjoy watching you realize how easily you could own every room you walk into.”

A beat. Then he added with a smirk:

“And because I’m shallow and get bored. So this is also entertainment.”

You scowled.

Moments later, the clerk returned with gowns, gloves, heels, even jewelry, rich reds, deep blacks, all materials that shimmered like oil or bled like wine. Sylus didn’t touch a single one. He just looked at you expectantly.

“No way,” you said, hands raised. “I’m not trying those on.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m a hunter, not—”

“Not what?” he interrupted, stepping closer. “Not someone who deserves to be admired? To feel powerful in ways that don’t involve blood or bullets?”

You froze.

Sylus smiled, slow and knowing.

“Let me rephrase,” he said softly. “Go try them on. Or I’ll carry you to the fitting room myself.”

Your stomach flipped.

You grabbed the nearest piece and fled.

When you stepped out again, blood-red velvet, cut close and dangerous, Sylus’s expression didn’t shift. But his gaze burned. He tilted his head slightly, his tongue pressing lightly to the inside of his cheek, almost like he was savoring something.

“Well,” he said at last, voice low. “Look at you.”

“…Too much?” you asked stiffly.

“No,” he murmured. “It’s perfect.”

You swallowed. “I’m not used to this.”

“I know,” he said. “That’s why we’re practicing.”

You blinked.

He stepped closer. Lowered his voice. “One day, you’re going to rule rooms like this. You’ll walk into a place like this, and no one will question the cost of anything. They’ll ask if it pleases you. And I’ll be the one standing behind you, amused.”

Your heart stuttered.

“…You think I’ll be like that?”

“I think,” Sylus said, reaching up to adjust a strap with slow, calculated fingers, “that you already are. You just haven’t seen it yet.”

You stared at him.

He leaned down, brushing a soft kiss against your cheek like he was crowning you with it.

“Now pick a few,” he murmured. “Before I lose patience and buy out the store.”

𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙗 ⋆｡ ‧˚ʚ🍎ɞ˚‧｡ ⋆

You were supposed to be getting parts. Weapons. Something for your mission. Not… standing awkwardly in front of a boutique window while Caleb stood beside you, hands in his pockets, watching you like you were the only star in the sky.

“I don’t need anything,” you muttered.

“I know,” he said softly, “but I want to give you something anyway.”

You turned to him, skeptical. “Why?”

Caleb smiled. Not the playful grin you remembered from childhood, but a softer, grown-up version. Sadder. Warmer. More dangerous.

“You work hard. You never ask for anything. You always think you have to handle everything alone.” He tilted his head. “Let me spoil you, just this once.”

You glanced at the boutique. Soft lighting. Silks and crystals and delicate things you’d never wear in a cockpit. Not your world.

“I’m not the type to wear stuff like this.”

Caleb stepped closer. You felt it before you saw it, the sudden change in pressure, the weight of his presence, like his Gravity Evol was always humming just beneath the surface, calibrated just for you.

“You don’t have to be,” he said quietly. “You’re you. That’s all I want.”

You hesitated.

And then, just like he used to do when you were kids, he reached out, tugged your sleeve lightly, and leaned in with a teasing whisper, “C’mon. You didn’t say no when I bought you five extra sticker packs that summer, remember?”

You blinked at him. “You told Gran they were on sale.”

“They were. Emotionally.”

You laughed despite yourself, and Caleb’s smile brightened. Not cocky. Not smug. Just sincere.

And before you could stop him, he was gently guiding you through the door, palm on your back, already talking to the assistant about “something soft, something pretty, something in her color.” The way he said it made your skin burn.

Inside, you tried to retreat, but Caleb was persistent in the way only he could be. Not pushy. Just present. Patient. Like he knew how many steps it would take for you to give in.

He held up a deep plum piece, simple but elegant, and tilted his head.

“I think this one’s pretty,” he murmured. “It matches your eyes.”

“…Yours are purple,” you pointed out.

He smiled again, and this time, there was heat behind it. “Exactly.”

You snatched the outfit from his hand and stormed off to the changing room just to get away from the flutter in your chest.

When you stepped out, uncomfortable and tugging at the fabric, he was already sitting there, waiting. Legs spread, one arm draped over the chair, dark brown hair slightly tousled from his flight jacket.

His gaze traveled down your body slowly, taking in everything.

“…You like it?” you asked, fidgeting.

He didn’t answer immediately. Just stood, walked over, and reached to fix the collar.

“I love it,” he said, voice low. “But I’d love it more if you didn’t look like you were about to bolt.”

“I’m not used to—”

“I know,” he cut in gently, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth. “But I’m going to keep doing this. Slowly. Until you believe it’s okay to let me take care of you.”

Your heart thudded.

He looked down at you, purple eyes glowing softly.

“Because I always have,” he whispered. “I always will.”

And when the assistant brought out a pair of heels that matched perfectly, Caleb took them from her hands, crouched in front of you, and, before you could even protest, slipped one on with the same calm focus he used when piloting his favourite aircraft.

“…Cinderella moment?” you asked, flustered.

“Mm,” he smiled, still crouched. “No. My girl doesn’t need saving. But she deserves everything beautiful.”

[luveline]

Jade can we get hotch and his daughter again I miss them!!!!!

You’ll confess to liking your father’s new apartment. It’s well-furnished and warm. It’s nothing like the house, though. You can hardly tell anyone lives here when you aren’t putting your laundry bag by the washer-dryer to go in next, the bedroom especially untouched. You suspect your father lives out of his wardrobe and go-bag, as it’s called. 

Different to the house. You’re always welcome. No strange silences pervade when you come knocking —if Aaron’s home, he opens the door already having pulled the chain lock down to let you in, and, despite his apparent stress and budding depression, he asks you what you need. 

How was school? How’s your studying coming along? Did you find a potential grad outfit yet? Did you need a check for that? 

It’s too much, sometimes, but not because you don’t want it. 

You hesitate at the door. From inside, you can hear the barest hum of the TV. Maybe he’s actually relaxing for once. Maybe you should leave poor Aaron alone. 

You’re selfish. “Dad?” you ask, letting some excitement colour your voice, “Hello! Are you napping?” 

It’s gotta be five quick seconds before the doors being pulled open. “Hey, sweetheart,” he croaks, all tired eyes and rumpled pajamas as he stands aside. You dodge his arm, laughing at his disgruntled groan. “You can go home if this is what I have to deal with.” 

You let him close the door and lock it before you turn back to him. “Tell me you weren’t just sleeping on the couch? I thought we had a few more years.” 

“I was asleep in bed.” 

“You got to the door super fast.” 

“I was getting up. We got home late,” —he drags a hand over his face— “and I didn’t sleep on the jet. Let me go get dressed and we’ll go for breakfast.” He checks his watch. “Uh, dinner.” 

“Or we could order in?” 

He sighs in relief. “Or we’ll order in. Good idea.” 

You don’t comment as he steps past you to the couch. You’ve missed your opportunity for a hug. It’s your own fault for dodging the first one. 

You slip out of your shoes and leave them neatly by the door, hanging your jacket on the hook, and your sweater on the back of the couch. He holds up a hand as you sit down on the couch and you take it for what it is, a beckoning to sit near enough for him to hold your shoulder. “Alright?” he asks, touching the side of your face with his knuckles briefly, before leaving you to your personal space. “You look tired. I don’t mean that unkindly. How have you been sleeping?”

“You’re the third person to tell me that today, but I don’t feel tired.” 

“Maybe you just need something to eat,” he says. “Pass me the phone, honey, I’ll call for us.” 

He calls. You listen to him talk. You love how polite he is to everyone and especially people who work jobs like you did. Despite his titles and expertise, he doesn’t condescend. He says thank you twice. And he orders all your favourites, so you have to give him double the credit for being observant. 

You slip a ways down into your seat and look Aaron over. To no one’s surprise, having a father who cares about you is easy work for the heart. Your life is changed. He’s good, and you like being around him, but it’s a funny thing to look at this man you’ve known for a year and to know you love him. He really is everything you ever wanted, as a kid. He isn’t picking you up from sleepovers or rubbing your back when you cry, but you’re sure he’d do both of those things if asked. You like that you can come here without asking. You like that he doesn’t care why.

He doesn’t look young, exactly, but he doesn’t look quite old enough yet to have a daughter your age. He could be a coworker. The thought makes you huff. 

“What?” he asks, already smiling. 

“Just thinking about something.” 

“About what?” 

“You’re not as young as you look.” 

He rolls his eyes. “Right, right, I forget that you come here to insult me. You know, Jack told me I was getting more ‘crinkles’ the other day.” 

“Kids say the darndest things,” you tease lightly. 

“I’m not old.” 

“I said you’re not as young as you look, that means you’re doing well.” 

“I think I look right for my age,” he says contritely, but grinning, tipping his head back against a cushion. “It’s good to look your age. It’s a privilege to be old.” 

“I thought you weren’t.” 

“I’m not. I’m just saying… I’m lucky to be here still,” he says, giving you a nudge, “or I wouldn’t know my girl, would I?” 

“And sappy in your old age.” 

“Mm.” He grabs the remote, turning the TV onto a movie channel and upping the volume. “Unfortunately.” 

You turn into him and let your knees touch. You watch TV waiting for your dinner to arrive in companionable silence, not tired but worn, not bored but somehow restless. You wonder if wanting a hug off your dad when you haven’t had very many is wrong of you. But the thing is —is that he really feels like your dad. Just the way he talks to you cements it. Sometimes when you’re with him, you feel like a kid again.

When he touched the side of your face and told you that you looked tired, it felt like a compliment, somehow, the signals all crossed in your head, ‘cos it was nice to be cared for. 

“Dad?” you ask quietly. 

Aaron turns his gaze to yours, not bothering to square away his joy at being called such a thing. “What, honey?” 

“Do you think… would it be really weird if I asked for a hug?” you ask shyly. Heat floods your cheeks and nose, but he doesn’t laugh. 

“Come here,” he says, sitting up a touch, arm extended for you to fold under. He wraps you in, lets you slouch into his touch just like Jack does in those slices of time after dinner and before bed. “Not weird. I mean, you’re a big girl,” —he laughs— “but I don’t think there’s an age limit.” 

“I know that. Just don’t know if you want to.” 

If he sees you wringing your fingers, he ignores it. “Why wouldn’t I want to?” He settles back on the couch, pulling you a little to make sure you go with him. Not like Jack laying bodily atop him, but still a nice hug. 

“Don’t know.” 

You both sort of know why. You’re old. You’re not supposed to want this stuff. You should find it too awkward and the time for affection has passed. And yet. 

He hums softly. “I love you, honey.” 

You know, but it’s nice to be told. “Yeah. Yeah, me too.” 

He doesn’t begrudge the way you put it, sinking again into the couch, his eyes looking heavy with some contentness, but mostly fatigue. “Don’t let me fall asleep before the food gets here,” he says.

“You got it, boss.” 

He gives your shoulder a rough, dad-like squeeze. You laugh and squirm away. After a few seconds apart, he shuffles you back toward him. 

“Is it hard?” he asks. 

“What?” 

“Finishing the year out. Getting ready for your exams. The bar. Is it stressing you out? You can be all caught up on sleep and still exhausted, I’d know.” 

“Yeah, it is. Yeah, but it’s just a few more months. I can do it.” 

“I know you can do it, baby,” he says, drawing your attention from the TV, “that's not in question.” 

His voice is soft like a strip of velvet. You’ve stopped being surprised at his propensity for gentleness, but you don’t always know what to do in the face of it. 

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks. 

“Nothing. Just studying.” 

“Okay, so stay the night, the guest rooms calling your name, and tomorrow morning we’ll just study.” 

“Do you even remember–”

“Don’t insult me.” 

“It’s a lot.” 

“I remember. I used to drive Haley mad.” He goes quiet for a bit. Two or three seconds where you know he’s thinking about their separation. “But I couldn’t have done it without her. It’s hard work, committing it all to memory, we can make more flash cards.” 

“That would be nice.” 

“Not exactly helping you with your math homework.” 

“Are you any good at it?” 

“Math?” He laughs. “Not anymore.” 

“You forget all that stuff, right? I knew we would.” 

“Yeah, you do. I had to get rid of all that stuff to make room for work.” 

“Oh, so it was on purpose?” 

“I’ll ignore what you’re implying. I’m gonna eat all the poppadoms when they get here, but I’ll ignore it.” 

“Sick.” 

He shrugs. 

“I’ll tell Jack.” 

“Oh, don’t. If your brother knows we had butter chicken without him he’ll throw a fit.” 

“We can save him some.” 

Aaron lets his face rest on the back of the couch. “Good idea.” 

“Aaron, don’t sleep.” 

He grins. “I’m not. I’m resting my eyes.” 

Ridiculous. “Is it… Can you have Jack tomorrow?” 

“I don’t know. She doesn’t really like it that I’m only having him on the weekends. She says she gets all the hard parts and I have all the fun.” 

You don’t know what to say. “Well, I guess that’s kinda true.” 

“Yeah. Thing is, I can’t say sure, I’ll have him Sunday through to Wednesday because I never know if they’re gonna send me somewhere with the team. I can’t even confidently take him on the weekend. I can’t promise I’ll be here.” 

“I know.” 

He squints at you. “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” You give him a rueful smile. “What are you sorry to me for?” 

“It’s not just Jack I’m letting down.” 

“You haven’t let me down,” you say, practicing some of his softness. “Maybe you have let Jack down, I don’t know, I’m not Jack, but so long as you’re trying to do well by him, I think that’s probably enough. You… you and Haley, you’re not sure what’s happening.” You don’t like telling him he and Haley have a happy ending, because everything he’s told you so far doesn’t agree, but you don’t wanna kick him while he’s down either. “It’s okay to need time to like, get things straight. You have the apartment, you have the guest room, you’re offering to have him when you can. You do have to make the effort, but you know that already.” 

“I know, but thanks, honey. You’ve listened to too much of my whining.” 

“You listen to me whine all the time.” 

He squeezes you to him. “I love listening to you.” 

“I don’t mind listening to you, either.” 

“The horrors of adulthood, listening to your deadbeat dad complain.” 

“Shut up, you’re not a deadbeat. You’re stressing me out.” 

“Sorry.” He rubs your arm again and lets you loose. “Oh, sweetheart, I got your snacks, if you’re hungry. They’re in the cabinet by the fridge.” 

“I can wait.” 

He sighs very deeply. You’re sure he’s gonna nod off, but he forces himself to stand. “Thank you for coming over. I couldn’t do this without you.” 

“What, the sad bachelor thing?” You giggle to yourself as he stands up. “Where are you going? I’m just kidding.” 

“I’m getting your snacks.” 

You turn on the couch to watch him. He unveils a bunch of your favourite things from the cabinet. You can see Jack’s fruit snacks, his yogurt covered raisins, and it gives you a chest ache thinking about Aaron all alone this weekend. “You know I do love you, right?” you ask carefully. 

He comes back, looking super tired but not so sad. “I know. I’m the luckiest man alive if I have you and your brother, you know that?” 

“Okay.” 

Aaron laughs, dropping your candies in your lap with a thunk. He got the big bag. “Okay. Tuck into those, and I’ll go see about your bother coming over tomorrow. Did you have pajamas in the laundry?”

“Uh…” 

“I’ll look.” 

You did not wanna get up. “Thanks!” you say, cracking open your bag of candy with a smile, missing the fond look he throws your way from behind. 

[rafesslxt]

✧.* 𝑭𝑨𝑽𝑶𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑬 𝑨𝑭𝑭𝑨𝑰𝑹 | 𝑺𝒂𝒎 𝑴𝒐𝒏𝒓𝒐𝒆

summary: you and Sam have a secret affair while your bf is his enemy. when you call him to pick you up in that slutty outfit of yours, he shows you what you‘ve missed while partying. - based on this request

warnings: smut!, arguing, cheating, mention of alcohol, smoking, oral (on both), unprotected p in v, cum, choking, orgasm denial, breeding kink, 69 position, dirty talk, dom!Sam but still whimpering here and there bc you cannot tell me he wouldn't

words: 6,5k (bro WHAT) + it‘s 5am so sorry for typos i‘ll correct later

"Don't tell me you're wearing that!" Sam's voice echoes through my room when he stares with jaw down at the dress I changed into. "Sam, it's none of your concern." I sigh, combing lightly through my curls so I don't separate them too much.

It was supposed to be a mistake, a drunken slip, a one time thing. It's been three weeks now and I can't force myself to pull away from the grip he has on me and I don't think he even knows how powerful that grip really is.

It's like I can finally breath again when I'm with him, even If it's never for long or outside our rooms. Currently he's at mine. He came over when I told him I'm getting ready for a party and well - one thing led to another and now he's sitting on my bed with his clothes back on (imagine it like in the picture at the top) watching me getting ready again.

"Are you gonna fuck him?" he asks, jealousy dripping from his voice. "No." I shake my head and glare at him through the mirror. I'm sitting in front of. Since I started sleeping with Sam I didn‘t let him touch me and Sam knew.

I notice him standing up from my bed and slowly stalking over to my chair. He leans down so his head is at the height of my ear. "| want him to fuck you, so you know I can do it better." he almost demands, suddenly tugging my head back with a hard grip on my curls I just styled so perfectly.

"Sam!" I hiss and roll my eyes at him while he still holds my head back. "You're gonna listen to me m'kay?" I gulp and loom at him through my long lashes, batting them at him. He leans closer again and I see his face upside down from my position.

"If you leave wearing that, then the second you come back I'll bend you over everything possible."

I feel the heat creeping up my neck upwards my cheeks, leaving a slight red tint behind. "You belong to me, don't forget that." he mumbles against my lips so soft that you could think he just said the most beautiful thing but his hard grip in my hair reminds me of the opposite.

I know he's obsessive, possessive, jealous. Kind of funny when you think about the fact that he's the affair with me having a boyfriend. And on top of that, his biggest rival. "Enemy" how my boyfriend James would always say.

James. He's the complete opposite from Sam. Mean, bully, rich, entitled, popular, typical jock. I forgot a long time ago why I am in a relationship with him in the first place.

I remember how he alway told me to stay away from Sam when I met him in the cafeteria in school for the first time. Not even a minute after James came and dragged me away from him, not without insulting Sam for speaking to me of course. I smiled at him apologetic, not understanding what was supposed to be wrong with him.

James said Sam's a lot into drugs and stuff but I didn't care. Half of the school is and as long as he's not harming others with it, I really couldn't care less.

I feel Sam's lips ghosting over mine, teasing me with with his hot breath. I love how he kisses me. It's always so full of life, passion and longing. When James kisses me it's just eager, sloppy and wet. Sam kisses like his life depends on it. As If he can't breathe properly but when his lips touch mine.

"Sam.." I breath out in a whiny tone. "Dress like a slut and I'll treat you like one. I don't kiss sluts." he whispers against my lips before pulling away and letting go of my hair. I sigh in frustration when he let's go of me and apply my blush with a pout on my face.

I hear him chuckle behind me, he probably saw the look on my face. "Don't pout angel, write me when you're on your way home later alright?" he grins at me, putting on his shoes and opening my window to climb out of it. I roll my eyes at him playfully, hiding a smile with it when I already feel the excitement in my chest knowing I'll see him later.

And with that he climbs outside and closes the window behind him, winking at me before walking away. It's a miracle to me how he tells me I'm a slut and how he calls me angel the next minute. He always does this, making me feel alive, giddy, like a fucking teenager.

Wait, I am a teenager. But I mean like a teenager with no experiences or one that never talked to a boy before.

I concentrate on my face in the mirror again, applying my favorite lipgloss before I take my purse and throw the lipgloss in it. "Bye Mom!" I shout through the house when I open the front door, hearing her calling me to have a good time and not come home too late.

I love her, she's not too strict and understands me, not forgetting how her life was when she was young like me. But at the same time she would kill for me and protect me from everything. It's a great balance. She trusts me and I don't overstep boundaries.

When I arrive at the party I dressed up for, I can already smell the alcohol and weed from a mile afar through my car window. I roll it up and park a few houses further away when I see everything full of cars.

But what did I expect right? It's James, I mean everyone in either jealous of him or of me because they wanna be with him. If they only knew how easy I would trade that ticket. So of course his birthday party would explode of people. He lives in a big house, his parent's house of course but I think he mentioned something of them being on vacation for two weeks.

I grab the birthday present that rots since two weeks at the backseat of my car and get out of it, making sure that I closed the doors properly. My stomach wrenched and the closer that I get the more my head is starting to get dizzy from all the weed clouds around me.

I greet a few people that I know, hug some of my 'friends' from our friend group and slowly get inside. The air inside is a little better but still smells like alcohol and sweat from the dancing body's in the big living room. "Y/N!" I hear someone shouting over the music. I turn around and notice James' best friend coming towards me.

"Hey Mike, how are you?" I ask him trying to be polite but the truth is the more seconds passed, the more I wanted to throw my gift at James and get the hell out of here. There was a time were I loved nights like these right I front of me. Where I was one of the dancing body's sweating and drinking, sometimes even smoking. But now I just felt so - out of place.. wrong.

"I'm good, I'm good. I guess you're looking for your boyfriend? He's in the backyard with the rest." I smile at him and nod, thanking him for telling me before I watch him disappearing back into the crowd.

I let out a deep breath. I got this. It's just one night. A few hours, right? And then I'll be at Sam's. God I have to stop thinking about him like that, he's just.. sex, right?

I walked into the kitchen, looking for something to normal to drink but of course they only bought alcohol. I took a red plastic cup and filled it up with tap water, taking a big chuck from it, trying to calm my nerves a little. Oh fuck it. I grabbed a whiskey bottle and filled my cup up with Pepsi and the alcohol in my hand. Yeah, that's better for calming nerves. I mean, I'm already here so why not try to have at least a little fun.

With the drink in my hand I leave the kitchen and open the glass doors t the back yard where James is supposed to be. And doesn't take me long to find him with 'the rest' how Mike said. 'The rest' is usually our friend group. I like them, I really do. But they're just.. not that deep. It's fun to party with them, go to school with them - well the ones that don't skip all of their classes, and maybe even talking about little problems like arguing with parents or fights with boyfriends and girlfriends. But that's as far as it goes.

Maybe that's the reason why I feel so comfortable around Sam. I remember the first night we had sex, he lit up a J afterwards and asked me If I wanted to. I shook my head and sat on my rooftop with him, watching the stars. I never talked to him a lot before, like I said James kept me far away from him, but still we talked abut everything that came to our minds.

Aliens, the universe, the stars, the whole fucking galaxy. How does everything work? Is the government telling us everything? Are there already people on our earth that don't come from here? Maybe it was the weed, but I don't think so. It felt natural to talk with him. Having a good laugh for the first time win months.

My heart starts to race when I think about that night with him. Sometimes I wonder If I'm - no. That couldn't be. It can't be. He would never also. Right?

I get thrown out of my thoughts when I feel two arms sliding around my body from behind. "Hey baby." a deep voice whispers into my ear. I know it's James. I smell his cologne and obviously I recognize his voice. His breath smells like alcohol, a lot alcohol.

"Hey James. Happy Birthday." I force a smile on my lips and turn around in his grip. He kisses me and cups my face in his hands, squeezing my cheeks together. "Thank's babe. Why are you standing here tho? Come on let'S go to our friends." He takes my hand into his and pulls me towards a little chill lounge where everyone sat with drinks or J's in their hands. "Hey guy's!" I greet every single one of them before sitting down next to my boyfriend.

"Here, for you." I smile at him and give im his present. "Thank you baby." he smiles brightly when he opens it and see's what's inside. "Hell yeah!" he grins and pulls out a pair of shoes. To be honest, I don't know what's so special about him but I knew he talked 24/7 about them with Mike and how hard they are to get to I asked a friend of my dad who had a lot of connections when it was about fashion.

"They are great, thank you baby." He gives me another kiss, sloppy and a little too wet. God how I missed Sam's lips and - no. "Yeah, no problem." I answer, trying to hold my smile up.

The night went by slow, my mind racing with the wrong thoughts when you're considering I'm sitting right next to my boyfriend. He has his hand on my thigh, and his other one around his red cup filled with liquor.

At some point I started to take drink after drink, probably not being able to drive later. I took out my phone, reading some messages I have gotten. Two from my best friend Lisa, who lives in New York, sadly, and one from Sam. My heart starts racing again so I take another sip from my drink before opening it.

"How's the party going?"

I try to hide a smile when suddenly a evil little idea gets to my head. Everyone around my was busy ding something so no eyes were on me when I took a photo of James hand on my thigh and send it to Sam with a little message.

"How I wish it was your's."

I bite the inside of my cheek when I wait for an answer, not expecting it to come as quick as it does.

"Is that you'r way of showing me how sorry you are for ging out like that?"

I swallow down the clump in my throat and try to ignore the bad feeling in my stomach. Is he mad? Was it a bad idea to send him a picture? I know he's a jealous type but I already have too much alcohol in my veins to be reasonable.

I lean backwards against the lounge I'm sitting on and take another picture. This time of my face and cleavage not letting a lot to the imagination. I bite down on my bottom lip and smirk into the little camera of my phone, looking up as innocently as possible.

"How about I show you how sorry I am later?"

What I don't know is how Sam's breath got stuck when he saw my message. He looked at it, imagining how he would rip that damn dress off and fuck me through the whole night. His hand wanders down to his hard cock, massaging it slightly through his sweatpants. A quite moan leaves his lips when he stares at the way I bite down on my lip. "Little minx." he mutters to himself when he closes the picture and let's go of his boner.

"Trust me, you'll be sorry. Have fun at your little party, angel."

With a smile on my lips I put my phone away again, grabbing my cup. "Why're you smiling like that? Who texted you?" the voice of James ask me, making me jump a little. "Huh?" I look up at him when he towers his head over me a little. " I saw you texting and smiling. Who texted you?" he repeats himself, a serious look on his face.

I sigh when I knew how this would go. I mean, he's right and If we're being honest, I'm cheating on him There's nothing romantic or noble behind this. He's right. But at the same time, he was jealous in a little meaner way than Sam is. I never cheated on James before and even two years ago when we started dating, he always accused me of cheating on him or texting other boys when in reality I've never done such a thing.

Oh, there even was a rumor once that he cheated on me with a girl from our friend group, Amanda. She's nice. But also knew it was true that she had an eye on James.

"Lisa texted me." Well, that wasn't a lie. "Oh yeah? And what made you smile about it?" he asks, glaring at me. I roll my eyes at him and look away, knowing he hates it. So I'm not really surprised when he pulls my face back into his direction and repeats himself again.

"What made you smile, y/n?" "Oh my god she's my best friend and lives in another state! I was just happy she texted me!" I groan annoyed and stand up from my seat, his hand dropping from my thigh. "Where are you going?" he calls after me but also doesn't make any attempt on following me so I ignore his words and walk back inside through the house and up some stairs that I know lead to a bathroom.

When I get inside I lock the door behind me and let out a deep breath. I pull my phone out of my purse and look for a certain name in my contact. I hold it against my ear when it starts ringing on the other side. Not even two rings later he picks up.

"What's up, angel?" Sam smiles into the phone. "Miss you.." I mumble into the phone, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub behind me. I hear him chuckling. "Then leave, it's that easy." "You know its's not." I argue, pouting while looking into the mirror over the sink. I run a finger over the corner of my mouth, taking off a little of my smudged lipgloss.

he sighs into the phone now too so I continue talking. "he's gonna ask where I'm going and then will insist on one of his friend bringing me home just so he knows I'm not going anywhere else. And If I go without telling him he'll literally stand in front of my house after at least an hour."

"Break up with him." he says. "What?" I gasp, surprised he said that. I mean yes it is obvious that I should but not one time one of us really spoke these words. "You're not happy with him and you'll never be. You should find someone where you are." Someone. I don't know if it's the feeling slowly creeping up my neck and spilling over after holding them in for so long or simply the alcohol but I only scoff and roll my eyes.

"Yeah, right. Someone." my voice sounds cold and distant, pissed. "Y/n was you know what I mean.." "No, Sam. Actually I don't" Silence. And another sting I feel in my heart.

"See you, Sam." I chuckle sarcastically and press the red button on my phone. Not a second later I hear someone knocking on the door. "Y/n? Are you inside??" I groan when I hear James voice. God why can't he just leave me alone.

I stand up from the bathtub and walk over to the door, unlocking it. "Oh, Mike." I say, realizing it's not James. "Uh- James told me to look after you." "Oh, great? And he couldn't do it by himself?" I scoff, pushing past his best friend. I hear him sigh too and walk after me. "You know how he is." "An asshole?" I state, looking at him. He just grins and shrugs. "It's fine. I just wanna be alone for a moment, okay?" "Okay." He nods slowly and leaves.

I really don't know why he's keeping up with James bullshit. He's way too smart and nice for all of this. Well, just like me.

Still annoyed I wander through the hall of this ridiculous huge house, scanning all these portraits and pictures on the walls. My parents are rich too, really rich but this is just.. hideous A family of 5 living in a house as big at the fucking White House.

My mind races with thought when I suddenly hear voices whispering and giggling. I knit my eyebrows and try to be as quiet as possible to hear them again. They lead me to a big door to which I press my ear against. I recognize the voices but I couldn't quite put my finger on who they were so nosy me slowly opens the door a little just to take a little peep.

I didn't expect to see what was I front of me. My boyfriend. And Amanda. Making out on a couch. "When are you finally breaking up with her?" I hear Amanda whine like the little bitch she is. "I don't know. I told you this is just a one time thing Amanda." he answers.

What is going on? "One time thing? You're telling me four months are a one time thing for you?" she argues back. What did she just say? Four months? I close the door and take a step back.

I mean I know I'm cheating on him too. I'm no saint. But fucking four months? At the same time, I go inside myself for a moment and try to feel anything. But nothing. Not a single tear, not a single ache in my heart. I feel.. relieved? Am I crazy? My boyfriend of two years cheats on me and I feel relieved?

I quietly walk back down the hall, back down the stairs to the party. It's over. It's fucking over. I feel a smile creeping up my face when I walk outside into the backyard again. "Hey y/n, everything good?" A girl named Jessy asks me. I smile at her, almost laughing. "I'm feeling as good as never before." A giggle slips out my mouth when I sit down and take another drink from the table. They share a few looks but I couldn't care less.

I take out my phone and open the chat between me and Sam. Just now I see he texted me right after our phone call.

You know what I meant y/n.

It's complicated.

Please don't ignore me.

Are you still coming over later? I miss you

Miss your tight litte pussy around my cock

I roll my eyes at the last message but chuckle.

Oh and I know you just rolled your eyes at that

Wanna see your pretty (your eye color) eyes roll back when I fuck your attitude out of you

I quickly type in my answer, sending it with no regret now.

Can you come pick me up Sammy? I'm drunk and I want you, please.

Of course angel. Where do you want me to park? The street before the main?

Just park in front of the house

He was surprised at my massage but shrugged it off.

Alright. Gonna be there in 30.

I tucked my phone away again, taking in a deep breath. The excitement crept up in my chest again. Now that I knew James cheated on me too, I had a much less guilty for doing it with Sam. Old me would have ripped her hair out when I saw her sitting on my boyfriends - ex-boyfriends lap. But you know what? Let her have him. I know he's bad in bed. Let her realize one day she's off better.

After only fifteen minutes I heard them coming outside together, giggling slightly before sitting back down and pretending nothing happened. I played dumb and smiled at James. "Hey, where have you been? I looked for you." Yeah, let him sweat a little. "Oh uh- I looked for you too, I've sent Mike to tell you." he grumbled, glaring at his best friend.

"Hm, weird. And why did you came outside with her?" I point at Amanda, who looks at me like a deer in the lights. "She uh- she helped me. She helped me looking for you.." he stumbles over his own words.

I just nod when I felt my phone vibrating.

I'm here. Drove faster.

I smile at Sam's message and stand up without saying a word. "Where are you going?" James asks, this time following me. Amanda and Mike stand up too, following him like fucking puppy's.

"Home." I say, shrugging with my shoulders without looking at him. " You're drunk. Let Mike drive you home, he didn't have that much." he tries. "Oh don't worry, my drive is already here silly." I giggle, my stomach tingling in the best way possible when I see Sam's car lights through the windows.

"What do you mean?" James asks me mad, walking a bit faster now to keep up with me. I walk through the living room again and then outside the front yard where I see Sam leaning against the passenger seat door.

Before walking towards him I stop and turn around. "James, it's over. I'm not mad at you okay? I did the same. I'm just so relieved that you obviously feel the same about our relationship." He looks at me dumbfounded. "What are you talking about?" I roll my eyes and laugh at his words. "Oh come on. I saw you and Amanda and I heard you too and don't even try to deny it please cause I'm fucking someone else too."

I see the anger creeping up his face, ignoring the fact that he's cheating on me completely. "WHAT? Who the fuck are you talking about?" Then it hits him. He looks at me and beside me in the distance, he recognizes Sam standing against his car.

"You've got to be fucking kissing me you dumb slut!" he starts shouting and insulting me but I turn around and walk to Sam. I notice him looking at me confused but I just straight walk towards him, push myself against him and kiss him with all the passion inside me, in front of everyone.

I hear James yelling in the background, Mike probably holding him back. Sam's lips move against mine, his hands wandering up my sides, gripping the flesh beneath his fingers. "Fuck, what's that all about huh?" he mumbles against my lips, pulling away slightly.

Out of nowhere I feel the heat pooling in my stomach, yelling at me to finally fuck him. "I want you Sam. Want you to fuck me stupid." I had to giggle, I can't stop it. God he has to think I'm ging literally crazy but he just bites his lips and pushes me inside his car, driving off with me.

"What happened in there?" he chuckles and gazes at me for a second before returning his eyes back to the road in front of us. 

"You'll never believe! When I hang up I wandered around the house and found him with Amanda, making out and her saying that they are fucking for four months now. And I - I just felt so free all of a sudden. No tear no anger, nothing. Just free." I ramble my words down, smiling the whole time.

"So I got you for myself now huh?" I don't know why but my cheeks burned like hell when he said that. Did he want me for himself? I mean yeah well who wants to share but like- does he want me or want me?

When we arrive his house, he parks in front of the house, helping me out of the car and inside the house. "Your Dad home?" I whisper to him when we walk up the stairs to his room. He shakes his head and grins devilish. "He's camping or something. Means you can be as loud as you want, angel." I bite my lip at his comment and rush upstairs with him, him basically throwing me onto his bed but upside down, so my head is at the edge of the bed.

"Remember what I told you If you go out in that outfit, I'm gonna fuck you over everything possible?" he remarks with his voice so raspy in my ears. I bite down on my lip again, nodding and trying to hide a smile but failing miserable. "This will be the last time you're laying on this bed for tonight." he grins down at me and leans down towards my lips, licking over my bottom lip before kissing me.

I hum against his lips when I feel him nibbling on mine. When he pulls away his breathing gets heavier. Is he just as excited as I am? He puts a hand on my cheek and strokes the skin with his thumb. "You're gonna be a good girl, angel?" "Hmm of course."

"Good, then do what I say, alright?" he half demands. I see him opening his belt, and pulling down the zipper of his jeans. "You got me so fucking hard you have no idea." he chuckles while pushing everything in the way down.

No matter how often I see his cock, it always amazes me again how big he is, his pretty pink tip leaking pre-cum. He takes a step closer to the bed again and grabs my arms, pulling me so much that my head hangs over the edge. "You're gonna suck my cock and maybe I'll play with you." I nod eagerly and open my mouth for him, ready to take him in.

He takes his dick into his own hand and rubs it teasingly against my lips, biting down on his own lip. I sneak out my tongue and lick off the salty essence from his tip, letting it slide over and over it again.

"Hmm.." then out of nowhere, he pushes in, almost choking me with it. His eyes roll back before he moves his hips, fucking my mouth without giving me a moment to get comfortable. "Shit, it alway surprises me how well you can take it. Let's see how far you can." he groans, pushing his hips deeper.

I try to breathe through my nose and concentrate on pleasuring him, hoping he would reward me for it. "I'm gonna fuck your throat baby, 's that alright?" he asks before pushing in deeper after I nod slightly. "Oh fuck.." he let's out a deep groan and closes his eyes. "I can see my fucking dick in your throat baby. God that's so hot."

His gaze wanders over the rest of my body until he sees my purse beside me, my phone fallen out of it. He leans forwards, choking me even more and takes it into his hands. I see him start taking pictures of it and smiling at them like a artist who just found his muse.

Tears start forming in my eyes due the feeling of him choking me every few seconds. "Fuck you look so pretty when you cry baby but that's your fault hm. Got outside like a little slut. Remember, you act like one, I'll treat you like one." he repeats himself.

I move my tongue up and down at the side of his cock, massaging the prominent vein he has. I hear him whimper slightly, his tough facade faltering a little.

He let's his hands wander over my body, massaging the flesh beneath my dress, pinching my nipples through the fabric making me whine around his cock. "Fuck you like that, right? Think I'm gonna reward you for listening so good." he slowly pulls out his cock and let's me catch my breath. I cough a little and swipe away the tears that started to run down my face.

He looks at me expectingly and raises one of his brows. "Thank you." I choke out to which he nods and leans over my body, pulling up the front of my dress. I hear him chuckle when he notices the wetness soaking through my underwear. "You get off on sucking my cock?"

His fingers ghost over my aching clit, teasing it through the fabric. I whine out loud and push my hips up. "Please, please touch me Sammy." "Hmm but I', already touching you. Gotta be more specific."

"Pleeease, need to feel your mouth. Please." never in my life would I beg any man like that. But for Sam to touch me I would get on my knees and start praying.

He pushes my underwear to the side and laps at my puffy folds, tasting me and groaning. "You taste so good.." then he starts sucking my clit and I almost faint at the feeling. I let out a silent moan, bucking my hips but he presses them down and slightly nibbles at my clit.

"Fuck Sam!" my scream echoes probably through the whole house. "Suck my cock again." he mumbles against my pussy, adding a finger and teasing my entrance with it. I grab his hard cock and wrap my lips around the tip, sucking on it with a lot of pressure. "Oh yeah.." he groans against me, sucking harder on my nub.

I feel his finger entering me slowly, then another one so it's two and curling them up just right. I let out a long moan around him, squeezing my eyes shut. I take him deeper until he hits the back of my throat.

He groans against my clit, making me moan around his cock because of the vibration. It's like an endless circle of pleasure.

He starts pumping his fingers faster, flicking his tongue over my clit like he knows every inch of my body. Well – he does.

Then I start feeling it, the fire pooling in my abdomen. My walls clench around his fingers, signaling him I'm almost there. He let's go of my clit and continues pumping his fingers. "Are you close baby?" he asks tauntingly and puts his thumb on my now sensitive clit, rubbing it without any mercy.

I cry out around his cock, tears running down from all the pleasure around me. Never ever did James make me feel like this just from oral. Then, right before I explode, he stops. Pulls out his fingers and let's go of my pulsing nub, even pulling his cock out of my mouth.

"Sam!" I cry, bucking my hips into the air. "That's for leaving in that fucking dress." he whispers, kneeling down so his face is in front of mine. I huff out some air, pouting when I lose my orgasm.

He grabs my should again and pulls me up, away from the bed. He pushes me towards his desk with a mirror on it, grabbing my neck. " 'm gonna fuck you from behind and you're gonna watch yourself in the mirror, yeah?" "Yes." I answer, leanin forwards, my upper body on his desk now. "Spread your legs." he commands and pushes them apart with his knee.

"Look at that, I don‘t even have to fucking touch your dress, you‘re such a little whore." he spat when he sees my dress isn't covering my ass anymore. A sudden pang hit's me. I look over my shoulder back at him and see him grinning at me, slapping my ass again but this time a lot harder.

I moan when his hand hits my skin, making him smirk even wider. "I should have known you're gonna like that." he pulls my underwear down and positions himself at my entrance. "Beg for it, wanna hear what a little slut you are for me."

"Hm yes your slut only.." I moan and wiggle my hips against him, hoping for some friction. "Please Sam, I need to feel you inside me, please. I've been so good, please." my begging is like music to his ears and before I can see it coming, he pushes inside me with one go.

"Oh fucking hell!" he groans loudly, his mouth wide open and his eyebrows pushed together. "Fuck Sam, I feel you so deep!" I whine, grabbing the edge of the desk. He starts moving his hips, slowly at first and then fast like never before.

The sound of his thrusts, his skin slapping against mine could be heard through the whole house together with our moans and groans. Thank god his Dad is camping.

His right hand finds it way around my throat, squeezing it just lightly to make me feel lightheaded. "Look at yourself." he demands. I bite my lip when I watch him through the mirror. I could see the sweat on his forehead, a few hair strands clinging to it. His eyes are slightly hooded from the pleasure he felt every time my walls massaged his cock just so perfectly.

"So fucking tight I swear If I didn't knew better I would think you're a fucking virgin." I love how dirty his words are, every time. "God, you're milking me." a little whimper leaves his lips when I squeeze my walls around him, the sound going straight to my core, making me clench even more. Like I said before, just a circle of pleasure.

"You know what's the best of it all? At first it was more about fucking his girlfriend, knowing she's coming around my cock. But now I have you all to myself and I'm gonna die before I let anyone else touch you ever again. You're mine now, angel." he pants and Strats to move his hips in a brutal pace now, making me scream out his name.

"Yeah, scream my name so loud the whole fucking neighborhood knows who you belong to, come on." The grip of his hand around my throat get's tighter, making me dizzy but also so soaked.

"I'm gonna fill you up so good until your little cunt is dripping with my cum." I gasp at his words, my walls clenching around him automatically. "Oh you like that baby? Like the idea of me pumping that pussy full with my cum? Shit, you're like a fucking dream. Just as sick and dirty as me." "Sam.. please.." I whine, sobbing at the thought of his words.

"Say it baby, say it, come on. Let me hear it. Fucking let me hear you beg for it." he groans, his cock already throbbing inside of me, ready to bust. "Oh Sammy please, please fill me up. Come inside of me, wanna feel it so bad." I let out a few sobs again, watching him react to my words in the mirror.

His eyes roll back and one of his hands wanders around me, rubbing my clit in circles, adding to the tight feeling in my stomach. "I'm so close.." I whimper, closing my eyes.

"No no no, you're gonna watch yourself come around me." I open my eyes again, feeling tears pooling inside my eyes. I look at the desk beneath me, rocking back and forth, all his school stuff already on the floor. "Sam, please let me come, please."

He lets out a dark laugh and slaps my ass again with much more force than before. "Want me to fill you up real good? Wanna feel my cum dripping down between your pretty thighs? Wanna walk around with my baby inside you? Fuck you would be such a good mommy hm.."

My eyes roll back at his words and the crushing feeling finally explodes inside me, a broken cry leaving my lips when I finally come around him, milking him so good.

"Fuck y-yes oh I'm gonna come. Gonna come in that tight pussy." a whimper leaves him again, adding to the crushing orgasm I have. His grip on my hip and my throat get's tighter, so tight I almost can' breath.

With a loud moan he let's go, spilling his hot seed inside of me. "Shit.." I whimper, feeling him flooding my cunt. When I slowly calm down again, I look over my shoulder, seeing him panting heavily, his chest rosing up and down. He slowly pulls out of me, a little whimper leaving me.

He takes a step back and smirks the he scans my body, his cum running down the inside of my thighs. "Hmm looks so fucking good." He comes closer again and pushes his cum back inside. "Keep it there." he whispers inside my ear, leaving shivers down my spine.

He pulls me back up and hold me when he notices my numb legs. "Don't think I am done with you angel. I said on every fucking surface."

My wide eyes look up at him but only met with his devilish looking ones. "This is gonna be so much fun, angel." he speaks before pushing me against his window, my legs wrapped around his hips.

This is definitely better tan crying after a break up.

Sooooo what do we think? My first Sam Monroe fic 🤝🏻

hope u liked it and thank u for reading! 🖤

My Masterlist

xoxo sarah <3

[spicyschemmenti]

Brains, Beauty & Chaos ➫ alex cabot

pairing: alex cabot x sassy bimbo!fem!reader

synopsis: when a grumpy detective underestimates you, assuming you’re just alex cabot’s ditzy, high-heeled assistant, you effortlessly pick apart his case with a giggle and a well-placed nail tap, leaving him speechless and Alex way too intrigued. But when you catch the usually unshakable ADA staring a little too long, you realize proving yourself might’ve unlocked a whole new kind of fun

warnings: playful insults, sarcasm, and reader has a whole lot of attitude, teasing and suggestive comments, pre-relationship/sexual tension between alex and reader, mild bending of office ettiquette

word count: 1.5k

author's note: lowkey feel like alex needs this kind of assisstant

You’re perched right on the edge of Alex Cabot’s desk, one leg crossed over the other, absently twirling a strand of your freshly curled hair around your finger. The scent of your expensive vanilla perfume lingers in the air, mixing with the sharp, clean scent of Alex’s office. Polished wood, leather, and that faint trace of her perfume that smells way too expensive for someone who pretends she’s all business. Your glossy pink nails catch the light as you flip lazily through the case file in front of you, not even pretending to be interested.

Across the room, Alex stands stiff and proper, arms crossed, her usual icy lawyer expression in full force. She’s got that look on her face, the one that says she’s two seconds away from rubbing her temples and sighing at you. Again. But she doesn’t, because Alex knows you by now. She knows the routine. Knows that you love to push just a little, just to see if she’ll break.

But the detective standing in front of her? He doesn’t know shit.

This guy is grizzled, probably hasn’t moisturized a day in his life takes one look at you, sprawled out like a cat in your designer heels and your perfectly coordinated outfit, and scoffs like he’s just so amused by the sight. Like you’re just some dumb little thing taking up space, some airheaded office accessory meant to grab coffee and look cute.

“She’s your assistant, Cabot?” he asks, sounding way too pleased with himself. His eyes flick to your phone, glittering rhinestone case and all, sitting next to the legal pad you haven’t touched. “What, does she do your nails between cases?”

Oh. Oh. That’s adorable.

You let out a sharp, sugary laugh, tilting your head as you bat your lashes at him. “Oh my god, you’re hilarious,” you say, your voice dripping with amusement, even though you’re already bored of him. But fine. If he wants to play, you’ll play.

You reach for the case file he just slapped onto Alex’s desk, lifting it carefully between two fingers like it’s something actually interesting. You can feel Alex watching you, her gaze heavy, but she doesn’t stop you. She knows better.

“What’s this, babe?” you hum, flipping through the pages. “Ooooh, is this a deposition? Witness testimony? Evidence?” You purse your lips like you’re really thinking hard, letting the moment stretch just long enough for the detective’s smirk to widen.

Then, without missing a beat, you tap one polished nail against the page, smile turning just a little sharper.

“Awww, sweetie,” you coo, “this is cute. Except for the part where your star witness totally contradicts themselves on page six. Like, did you even read this? ‘Cause I gotta say, not really giving your best work here.”

His expression twitches. He leans in, brows furrowing, but you’re already moving on, flipping to another page with a perfectly manicured flick of your wrist.

“Oh, and this little ‘airtight alibi’ you keep bragging about?” you continue, tilting your head like you really hate to be the bearer of bad news. “Yeahhh, problem is, the timestamp on their statement is, like, an hour after security footage has them across town. So, unless they figured out how to teleport between giving their statement and getting caught on camera, I think we’ve got a little whoopsie on our hands.”

The detective’s smirk is gone.

Across the desk, Alex exhales slowly, and you swear you catch the tiniest twitch of her lips. Just a hint of amusement. Just enough for you to know that, underneath all that cool and collected courtroom energy, she’s definitely enjoying this.

You shut the file with a little snap, flashing your prettiest, sweetest smile. “Next time, honey?” you say, leaning in just enough to lower your voice. “Maybe read before you talk.”

The detective glares, but he doesn’t argue. What’s he gonna say? You just did his job better than he did.

Turning back to Alex, you give her an innocent little tilt of your head, like you didn’t just bulldoze her entire meeting with a giggle and a well-placed legal takedown. “Soooo, Miss Cabot,” you purr, stretching just slightly, making sure she notices the way your dress rides up just a little. “Are we done here? Or do you need me for anything else?”

Alex’s eyes flick to yours. Steady. Cool. But too cool, like she’s trying really hard not to let something slip.

“We’re done,” she says, voice smooth as glass. But you hear it. The little shift. The tiniest crack in that perfect lawyerly control.

Oh yeah. She’s so impressed. And maybe—just maybe—a little obsessed.

The detective mutters something under his breath, snatching the file off Alex’s desk with more force than necessary. He barely spares you a glance as he turns on his heel and stomps out of the office like a toddler who just lost a game of Candy Land.

You don’t even bother to watch him go. You’re too busy watching her.

Alex is still standing there, arms crossed, but her posture is just a little stiffer than before. Her lips are tight, pressed together like she’s trying to keep something from slipping out. Her gaze lingers on you for a beat too long, her usual lawyerly mask firmly in place, but you know better. Oh, you know her so well.

“So,” you hum, stretching your arms above your head, knowing full well it makes your neckline dip just a little lower. “That was fun.” You drop your hands back into your lap, leaning forward slightly, propping your chin on your palm. “I mean, not for him, obviously, but for me? Definitely fun.”

Alex exhales sharply, moving around her desk to sit in her chair. “Did you have to do that?” she asks, her voice calm but edged with something you can’t quite place.

You blink, tilting your head like you’re genuinely confused. “Do what?”

She fixes you with a look, and ugh, she really does have a fantastic glare. All icy blue and sharp edges, like she could take you apart with a single sentence if she wanted to. Unfortunately for her, you love the attention.

“Completely humiliate a senior detective,” she clarifies, placing her hands flat on the desk. “In my office.”

You scoff, flicking a strand of hair over your shoulder. “Oh, please, I didn’t ‘humiliate’ him. He humiliated himself by thinking I was just a pretty face. I just happened to be here when it happened.” You smile sweetly. “Totally not my fault.”

Alex pinches the bridge of her nose, but you see it—the tiny, tiny twitch of her lips. She’s fighting it, but oh, she wants to smile.

“You’re impossible,” she mutters.

You grin, kicking your legs playfully. “You love it.”

She doesn’t confirm or deny, which is already an answer in itself.

Instead, she leans back in her chair, studying you with a look you can’t quite read. Her gaze flicks from your face, down to your outfit —your high heels dangling lazily from your toes, the smooth line of your legs, the way your dress hugs your curves just right.

You catch it. Oh, you catch it.

Alex Cabot is checking you out.

And not in that casual, I’m just looking in your general direction kind of way. No, this is something else. This is slow. This is measured. Like she’s realizing, for the first time, that you’re not just her frustratingly hot assistant—you’re a problem.

A very distracting problem.

Heat blooms in your chest, excitement buzzing under your skin. You lean forward just a little, dropping your voice to something lower, smoother. “Alex?”

She blinks, caught off guard. “What?”

You let your lips curve into a slow, teasing smile. “You’re staring.”

Alex stiffens instantly, jaw tightening. “I am not—”

“Oh, babe, it’s okay,” you interrupt, waving a dismissive hand. “I mean, I get it. If I were you, I’d be staring at me, too.” You sigh dramatically, stretching your arms above your head again, just to push a little. “It’s just a lot of beauty to take in at once, I know.”

Alex groans, running a hand over her face like she’s questioning every decision that led her to hiring you. But she still doesn’t look away.

“Unbelievable,” she mutters under her breath.

You bite back a smirk. She’s so flustered. And the best part? She doesn’t even know what to do with it.

You stand up slowly, smoothing out your dress, making a show of it. “Well, if you don’t need me for anything else,” you say, adjusting the strap of your bag, “I was gonna head out early. I mean, unless you wanna, I dunno, grab a drink or something?”

Alex’s head snaps up.

She looks at you, really looks at you, her mouth slightly parted like you just spoke in a foreign language.

You shrug, playing it cool, even though your pulse is racing. “No pressure, obviously. Just… seems like you could use a little break. And, y’know, I’m really good at helping people unwind.” You wink. “It’s, like, a specialty.”

Silence. A beat too long.

Then, finally, Alex exhales, her expression unreadable. “Go home,” she says, but her voice is softer now. Smoother.

You smile, turning toward the door. “Whatever you say, boss.”

As you strut out, hips swaying just enough to make it count, you don’t even need to look back to know she’s watching.

Oh yeah.

This is gonna be fun.

[loganwritesprobably]

A small gift (B.B.)

Synopsis: On a new island, reader goes to do some light window shopping and when she spots something that reminds her of First Mate Benn Beckman, well she simply has to buy it for him Tags: Benn/F!Reader, MTF!Reader, fluff, gift giving, secret relationship Word count: 1458 Notes: Whoever I’m writing about on the Red Force, Hongo insists on making an appearance. On another note: if you’d like a smutty part two to this, let me know, I almost added it onto the end but I figured I’d save it for another day if people want to see it

AO3 | Fanfic Masterlist | Request Rules | Fic Trades Guide

I'm on the road to 500, you have until then to send a req for my menu event which you can find here - at 500 a new short term event will be announced

There was, generally speaking, nothing quite as nice as a warm summer’s day. Not too hot, a gentle soothing breeze passing by, children out enjoying their break from school with their friends, couples having picnics, older couples sitting on benches together and reading hand in hand. The atmosphere was truly one of the best, something that you couldn’t find on any other season of island. Your patterned sundress fluttered in the wind, flaring out slightly to create a funny moment without showing any locals your underwear, and you could only laugh - it was a light, careless sound, because on a day like this you could only feel joy, like your heart was lighter than it had been in years.

As you passed each local storefront, you glanced over the things on display in the window, and occasionally stepped inside to get a look at what else was on offer. Sweet, ripe fruits; detailed, handmade leather goods; beautiful, delicate shirts and dresses - everything you could ever want.

You paused once again outside of a jewelers, eyes raking greedily over everything they had on display. If there was something you loved, it was buying new little pieces to accessorise your outfits. It was easy to give into temptation and step inside to take a closer look at the things that had caught your eye. That was when you noticed a small leather band, it was made of three smaller leather straps braided together and treated to lay flat together, the two ends attached with a simple golden claps. It wasn’t the sort of thing you were interested in yourself, but when you took it in hand, you could imagine Benn wearing it, and that was the moment you knew you were taking it home to the Red Force. You took it to the counter without even picking up a single item for yourself, and when you left that shop, it was one bag heavier, but a light fluttering persisted in your chest.

Benn had been a steadfast friend to you for the entire time you’d known him. He was the first to defend you when he thought you needed it, but also gleefully watched when you dealt with any issues yourself, his warm laughter the backing track to some of your most foul insults. His laughter persisted through many of your favourite memories of living on the Red Force, and your crewmates had been betting for a long time on how long it would take for you to get together. Shanks had at least had the decency to apologise when you discovered the pool, but Limejuice had shrugged shamelessly, having been the one to set it up.

You diverted to a cafe after that, and found Hongo inside. You joined him for a warm, quiet lunch together, laughing and gossiping easily amongst yourselves, happy to pull up a chair when Building Snake found you as well, and that led to you all getting another round of drinks, just so you could spend more time together. These were your favourite type of days, the ones where you all just got to relax, and be people, rather than being the famed Red Hair pirates. As the sun began to set, you all left the small venue, generously tipping the owner as thanks for remaining open for you past closing - you’d have left at closing if you’d realised the time, but he’d been too intimidated to kick you out. So maybe you weren’t just regular people, but you were close.

You approached the bar where everyone else would be gathering, arm in arm with both Hongo and Building Snake, with Hongo having loyally volunteered to carry your bags from your day of shopping. You’d picked up a few things before getting the bracelet for Benn. Everyone cheered as you entered, and the three of you split up once Hongo had given you back your bags. You dropped yourself into a booth with the bags at your feet, and Shanks appeared to pass you a drink with his trademark grin.

“What have you spent our berri on now?” He joked as he slipped in beside you.

“Our berri? I think you mean my berri,” you replied easily, accepting the drink he’d gotten for you, your favourite, “I work hard to earn this cash.” You added, and Shanks just laughed, the way he usually did. You shook your head, and sipped your drink, content to sit with your captain for a moment.

“But c’mon, show me.” He encouraged, nudging your knee with his own. You sighed as if it were terribly inconvenient for him to ask, but then pulled the bags up with a grin. From inside the first bag you pulled a new blouse, white cotton with puffy shoulder length sleeves, cropped at the stomach with some boning in to keep structure around your stomach and small breasts. Shanks reacted appropriately, appreciating the garment with ‘hmm’s and nods of his head. Then you pulled out a pair of new shoes, as your usual pair was borderline falling apart from regular use. They were simple black shoes, good for working on the deck of the ship, and that was what you needed them for. ‘Practical’ Shanks observed, shifting slightly in his seat. Finally, you pulled out a new hair clip, a pretty and delicate thing that you were hoping you’d be able to wear for an evening out, whenever one came up. It never hurt to be prepared.

“What about the other bag?” Shanks asked, pointing out the smaller bag amongst the group, and you tapped the side of your nose.

“Not for you to know boss.” You told him, and he booed you loudly, though he laughed all the while.

Amongst all the commotion, the man of the hour appeared to investigate, Benn Beckman.

You smiled up at him and shrugged, shuffling all your bags back to the floor at your seat.

“Sounds like a party over here. What’d you get?” Benn asked, dropping himself to sit down on your other side, and sudden understanding and mischief dawned on Shanks’s face.

“I think I heard someone.. Saying my name.” He lamely excused as he scrambled up to his feet, dashing away to give the two of you the illusion of privacy.

“He’s such a loser.” You mumbled, making Benn chuckle into his drink, not commenting either way.

“So what did I miss?” He asked, lifting his arm up to rest across the back of the bench in the booth, therefore placing you beneath it, as if he’d wrapped his arms around you.

“Shanks was being nosy. Wanted to know what’s in my bags.” You answered with ease, leaning in slightly closer to Benn, which allowed him to let his arm rest slightly lower for better comfort.

“Yeah? You gonna tell me?” Benn teased gently, a single brow raised in challenge. You rolled your eyes but lifted your bags back up to the bench, and showed him each piece one by one as you had with Shanks.

“That the mystery bag?” Benn then asked, nodding toward the small bag, the one containing his gift.

“Sure is, and it’s for you.” You told him, moving it from your lap to his own. Rather than moving his arm that was placed around you, he placed his glass on the table in front of you to use that hand to take the small box from inside the bag. He then set that down and opened it carefully to reveal the leather band you’d bought earlier that day.

“For me, darlin?” He asked, turning to you for a second just to see your nod, then turned back to the box. Only then did Benn remove his other arm, so that he could remove the bracelet from the box, and immediately tie it on, firm so it was less likely to get lost in the chaos of piracy.

“You ever gonna tell ‘em that we’ve been together the entire time their betting pool’s been going?” Benn asked an hour later, as he glanced a less than sneaky exchange of money between two crewmates, updating their bets.

“No. They can suffer.” You said, shrugging. You stood from the booth slowly and smoothed down the skirt of your dress, then held out a hand for Benn to take. He regarded you with a practiced expression of cool indifference, though you knew from experience that he was burning the sight of you into his memory.

“We dancin’?” He asked, and rather than responding you just grabbed him and hauled him to his feet, meanwhile he called out for the musician to play something a little more fast paced so the two of you could pass the rest of your evening with joyful dance.

Tag list: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots @cainnoable @hyperfixationthingss @queenmimi2817 @mermaniaa @fanaticsnail

If you'd like to tip me you can head over to my Kofi

[sunrisecaminus]

Heya pookie bear 😚! I hope you're doing fine 😌 lately I've been obsessed with tfp wheeljack, can you do a yandere nsfw story with fem!reader😏😝 sowy I'm ovulating

👉🏻👈🏻💅🏻💅🏻💅🏻

Message - Bro you poor thing! I apologize for not doing a story, but I promise to headcanons are still fierce! I made the headcanons and read your ask again and realized I made the wrong type of fanfic category. Hopefully this is still juicy enough ;3

Yandere Wheeljack x Human Reader Head canons SFW/NSFW

Summary - Wheeljack being a little shit and craving his favorite human!

Warnings - NSFW (Under the read more)

SFW

~ Your body, your kindness, your beauty. Everything Wheeljack craved about you when he was on missions.

~ You are the one thing that motivates him to kill Megatron now after four million years.

~ Whenever you try to talk to anybody, Wheeljack makes sure you are heard and never interrupted. If someone interrupted you before you could speak, Wheeljack would talk to them later and yell at them for such disrespect.

~ Telling him you want to travel somewhere, he would take you. Wheeljack will, almost at that very moment, get his ship and take you anywhere around the world.

~ Make sure you only consider the others as friends, if he figured out you had a boyfriend/girlfriend…

~ Every outfit you where got him on his knees for you. You could be wearing some sort of t-shirt and baggy pants, and he would still be having heart optics.

~ "Come here, sunshine. Why don't I help you out there."

~ If you need help getting something from the top shelf or in a higher area, Wheeljack would love to pick you up.

~ He thinks your tiny form is adorable, always wanting to stare at your little body and observe the turning and twisting.

~ If you have hair, he would pat you on the head just to feel your soft locks. Seeing you put it in different styles would be breath taking to him, but if you don't like styling your hair and he also loves the natural beauty of it.

~ He may not be a make-up person, but Wheeljack would never insult you on what you like to put on your face. Human make-up confuse him, but honestly you look beautiful with/without it. He will not complain either way.

~ "Man, did you get kissed by the golden mech himself? You are nothing, but pretty."

NSFW

~ Ok, he is, without a doubt, a top.

~ Wheeljack would be like a werewolf during a full moon if you ever wanted to interface with him.

~ Doing nothing but putting his mouth or servos all over your body.

~ Is he at least a little bit ashamed of his cravings? No, not even slightly.

~ That man would touch you in places, you didn't even know could be touched by another person. He would make sure you always feel what he does to you, even after the sex.

~ He is more into biting, kissing, and touching your ass. Being an ass guy is a bit of a issue, because if you tell him not to touch your ass, he would be holding all his willpower not to even look at it.

~ Wheeljack does like to rub his digit on your private parts. Letting himself go as slow or fast as he wants to make you whine.

~ Surprisingly he didn't like to show his spike to you, knowing that you are two small of a species and he was always scared he might hurt you. The moment you showed him other ways to please him, Wheeljack never showed fear ever since.

~ Being able to even touch you was a blessing to him. Sadly he isn't religious because Wheeljack would think of you as an angel to Primus for how perfect you are to him.

~ If you are chubby? RUN! He would never let you go out of his grasp again.

~ If you are thin? Boy does he like just opening your legs over and over again, watching your face turn pink every time.

~ "Look at me, doll. You are mine…"

[animekpopsimp]

hey! I saw your post about Mha having a reader like Mitsuri and I was wondering if you could do a female s/o similar to Mitsuri.

MHA Characters with a S/O Similar to Mitsuri

Izuku

Izuku absolutely adores your personality and kindness, as well as your strength. He was surprised when you admitted that you had a crush on him, but he was happy that you felt the same. He knows you can be insecure about your appetite, but he doesn't judge you for it. And if someone tries to make you feel bad about yourself because of it, he's always there to cheer you up. You also cheer him up and make him feel better, which he really appreciates.

Katsuki

Your relationship with Katsuki started off rocky. He seemed to hate you at first, finding your overly positive personality annoying. However, after you beat him in a sparring match, he respected you, though he would never admit it out loud. He eventually confessed to you, and thus began your relationship. The two of you are considered a power couple. If anyone gives you any trouble, he will fight them without hesitation. And he doesn't mind your big appetite, he even cooks for you on occasion. He loves you a lot, and he shows it through his actions.

Shoto

When the two of you met, the two of you had very different options about being in a relationship. On top of wanting to be a hero to help people, you also wanted to find someone who would accept you for who you are. Shoto didn't see the need to get into a relationship, he was more focused on proving his father wrong. It seemed unlikely that the two of you would be friends, let alone fall for each other. However, over time, Shoto grew close with you. He admired your strength and kindness. He confided in you about his father, and you were always there to support him. When the two of you get into a relationship, Shoto is nervous. Part of him doesn't believe that he deserves someone like you. Despite that, Shoto is really sweet and caring. He will defend you if anyone tries to make you feel bad about yourself, he loves you and he won't let anyone upset you.

Momo

You met Momo when you were a little girl, both of your families being wealthy. Growing up together, the two of you had your own insecurities to deal with. None the less, you both helped each other. You were close friends for years, and as time passed the two of you developed feelings for each other. Momo was the one to confess, and the two go you started dating. Momo feels lucky that you feel the same, and you do as well. She's always there to make you feel better, and while she doesn't believe in getting into a fight if someone does say something bad about you, she will defend you with words. She can be surprisingly mean when she wants to.

Hawks

Hawks adores you, he fell in love with you the moment the two of you met. In the past, he never considered getting into a serious relationship, but he changed his mind when you came into his life. He dotes on you all the time, showering you with compliments and bringing you your favorite foods. The moment he notices you feeling insecure about yourself, he's right by your side, reassuring you that he loves everything about you. Hawks is your biggest supporter and would die for you.

Midnight

She's your biggest hype woman, she's always making you feel beautiful and will fight someone if they insult you. Her favorite thing to do with you is shopping, and she loves picking out new outfits for you, you both turn it into a fashion show every time. She also loves bringing you your favorite foods since it brings a smile to your face when she does. She wants nothing more than to make you smile all the time.

Aizawa

He may not show his affection publicly, but Shota is smitten with you. You balance each other out and you have a talent for making him smile. He finds your personality adorable The two of you have simple dates that mostly consist of staying at home and cuddling while a movie plays in the background. You two also enjoy having dinners together, the life you two have together is simple but you both love it.

Dabi

The two of you are the definition of total opposites. Dabi has an intimidating aura that scares people. You on the other hand are an absolute sweetheart. That's what Dabi loves about you, you give him a sense of peace that he hasn't experienced in a long time, so he cherishes the fact that you're in his life. Because of that, he's protective. He'll kill for you without hesitation. You're the only one he shows his soft side to, he just loves you.

Shigaraki

Shigaraki usually hates people, but you're the one person he can stand. Your personality makes him feel safe, and he won't let anything take you away from him. If he needed to kill for you, he would do so without question. He loves you a lot.

[yuri-is-online]

Plead the Fifth (Riddle, Floyd, Azul, Jack, Lilia, and Ace x Yuu)

Summer vacation is all fun and games until someone asks you to be honest with yourself. Unfortunately for Yuu, they got dragged to the beach by some "friends" and are getting a big old dose of heat stroke, just not from a source they want to confess to outside of a court.

notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, no spoilers for Lost in the Book with Stitch this is just about their summer outfits. Vague tsundere vibes from Yuu, Yuu is implied to be physically strong, Floyd knows he's hot and has a bone to pick from Portfest, also he's a red flag have I mentioned that before? Azul is only mildly possessive don't worry about it ♡. Mild suggestiveness all around, but I don't think it's too much. Feel free to check out my more serious work on my masterlist.

Riddle

"Seriously!" Riddle's cheeks are puffed in annoyance, and you have an uncomfortably close view. Not that you don't like looking at Riddle, quite the opposite, it's just hard to look at him... properly when he's fussing over your injured hand. "You would think that such a highly recommended resort would have better quality glasses." You don't know if you should be relieved or insulted Riddle believes it's cheap glass and not your raw strength responsible for the glass shards stuck in your hand. You flex it uncertainly, and he stares you into stillness. It's hard to focus with him so close, hard to breathe even. How Riddle hasn't noticed how beautiful he is normally is beyond you, but with how carefree he's been, staring out at the ocean and happily bringing you to see every unique shell he can identify, there is no way he can't at least sense how you look at him. It's just too much, and you find yourself pulling away worried he will find you disgusting.

But that's not what Riddle sees. He sees someone he cares for refusing to let him help. He certainly does not see someone who is nervously infatuated with him attempting to soothe their heart rate, otherwise he wouldn't have the nerve to continue being strict.

"Just where do you think you're going?" If he could collar you, he would, but instead he has to satisfy himself with yanking your shirt to keep you from struggling away. "Don't move, that's a direct order, prefect." You wheeze and Riddle decides to politely ignore your struggles, instead focusing on the weight of your hand in his with a smug sense of satisfaction. He is useful to you isn't he? So let him monopolize your attention for just a little longer.

Floyd

"Oooh Little Shrimpy~" You want to die. You probably are going to, Floyd has never been so close to your face without pinning your back to a wall, you would be stupid not to see it as a threat to squeeze. "You better not be thinkin' about callin' me adorable that'd really piss me off." You swallow. Or at least try to, you are horribly painfully aware that he has chosen to pick this fight just off the boardwalk meaning everyone can see your little spat and how little you have been looking at his eyes. Floyd can too, it's been sending a vaguely exciting shudder up and down his spine all day. He knows every dip and curve along his chest your eyes have followed, every lingering stare at his flexing shoulders, it's like you want to eat him for a change. He found that electrifying.

Or at least he had, but this little dance was starting to get boring.

What sort of predator never makes a move after setting the mood? He had tried telling himself he should be patient, shrimps aren't predators. Maybe Yuu needed extra time to set up their attack, he could work with that, maybe leave a few openings. But he was starting to run out of buttons to undo on his shirt and he really didn't want to ditch the sunglasses or beads just yet. He had been such a good patient eel, so why weren't you jumping on him already?

"I don't think-" You force yourself to look up at Floyd's eyes instead of his chest and your brain immediately fries. "I mean that isn't to say-" He glares at you and you try to wrack your brain for what compliment he could possibly want out of you. There is no way Floyd Leech is going to these lengths to try and get you to call him cool.

"Y'know, it's really rude to not answer your seniors shrimpy." Floyd draws himself up to his full height, with an oddly solemn look. "You're usually such a well-behaved little shrimp, is somethin wrong? You know if somethings wrong you had probably better tell me or Azul's gonna have to call the Headmage."

"It's because you're too hot ok! I cant focus on what you're saying because I keep looking at your fucking chest! Happ-" You can't get your compliment out before he's squeezed you into his chest and started shaking you around like a rag doll, squealing something about how hunting isn't that hard and he knew you could do it.

There's no way you were ever the one on the prowl here.

Azul

This isn't a date. Nothing about this is meant to be romantic, you are having a "purely platonic at best but lets be real this is probably for business" drink with Azul at the tacky (his words not yours) poolside bar. "I wouldn't have thought about putting a water park next to a beach." He murmers to himself, carefully photographing every angle of his float before sitting down to drink it. "It just sounds redundant." You shrug, idly stirring your own drink.

"You'd be surprised. Some humans really don't like swimming in the ocean." You're the one saying it, so he has no real choice to belive it but it's hard to wrap his head around.

"How is one of these parks safer? They aren't nearly as clean." He thinks that if he ran a place like this, that would be the biggest problem, humans are messy creatures already, but the level of mess he has just casually observed while sitting here with you really makes him wonder just what the actual appeal of this place is. Well, at least just what the appeal was to paying customers, he knew why he wanted to bring you here. Usually, when Azul turns to look at you, you immediately look away from him. But as long as you've been on this little vacation, no matter how many times he's looked your gaze has remained exactly where it should be. He's puffing with pride, looking you over wondering exactly what angle he can press to get you to say what it is you actually are thinking and not whatever cheap jab you have prepared to protect yourself.

You remain none the wiser, stuck staring at Azul and his shirt simultaneously drowning in how attractive you find him and how much it reminds you of a man in his mid fifties who relies on his bank account to make up for his miserable personality.

"See something you like, prefect?" Azul is unbelievably happy, you are tempted to say smug but then he sort of always does. It's the glasses you think as you bite on your straw and hope he doesn't notice how hard it is for you to maintain eye contact. But he does, oh he does, taking advantage of your flustered state to move closer to your side.

"You- you..." Azul is stupidly attractive he has to know that, but you also know he is desperately insecure and don't want to send him into a spiral with your stupid tongue. "You look like a middle-aged dad on his third divorce on vacation trying to doge the tax man." You mutter, trying really hard to sound threatening. It doesn't work, Azul just gives his best put upon sigh as he clucks his tongue in disappointment.

To your great surprise, he moves his hand to tilt your head to look him directly in his bright blue eyes, a similar smile to the one he has while trying to sell you on something directly kicking your heart rate up. He is trying to sell you on himself, you realize...

"How insulting, my dear. You should know better than anyone that no one gets out of a contract with me so easily they'd be able to do it three times." ... and he doesn't intend to take no for an answer. Not that it was the answer you intended to give him in the first place, and oh how happy he is to know that.

Jack

"Honestly! You would think you'd know to be more careful by now." You might as well be talking to a brick wall, Jack's certainly solid enough to pass for one. He still seems to be under the impression that he's fine despite how much of his weight you are supporting. You think he is trying to talk, but the heat has him only babbling nonsense. Reluctantly, he lets you guide him over to a shady patch of trees close to a water fountain before he is well and truly gone.

"This is nothing. I handled the Savana I can take a stupid beach." He mutters as if he his extremely visible chest isn't heaving or rolling with droplets of sweat that other, lesser people have been watching drip from his abs with extreme disrespect.

Not you, though! No, your eyes have been firmly on the spicket on the fountain, determined to soak one of the smaller towels you brought and gently press it to Jack's forehead. Despite his insistence that he's fine, he leans desperately into your cooling touch, tension leaving his shoulders in one deep breath.

Just as all strength leaves yours as he decides to collapse into your lap.

"J-Jack!" You don't know what you want to ask next. Your back is pinned to one of the trees, Jack's head is resting firmly in your lap, but the arm that had been around your shoulder has decided to move around your waist. He growls (growls!) when you gently try to push him off you to try and get him set up in a more comfortable position. "Bad dog." It's all you can think to say and he doesn't seem fazed, if anything you swear he starts holding you closer. There is no way this could get any more embarrassing.

"Mommy, what is that guy doing to his partner? It looks like he's trying to eat them." Never mind yes it could. You make awkward eye contact with a very young mother as you try to silently plead with her that "no, this isn't what it looks like, I swear" as you desperately try to revive Jack with the damp cloth. The young woman looks at you then to her child, clearly trying to hold back her laughter and not doing it very well. She manages to usher him off before he can ask any more pointed questions and you glare down at Jack.

"You're setting such a bad example." You mutter and he lets go of your waist only to cross his arms over his chest and start to snore. Oh he is going to be so embarrassed when he wakes up, assuming he believes half of what you'll have to say.

Lilia

Love and Lilia are old strangers. He knows he can feel it, no matter what ancient denials he might have made, but he finds no matter how long he lives he is no better at recognizing it, no better at knowing what to do with it. There's something ironic about how much of an outlier this chance meeting between you both that makes him feel something akin to apathy. He doesn't think that's quite the right word, but he struggles to better find an explanation for the little knots it ties itself in sometimes.

So Lilia may not know just what this emotion is no, but he knows he likes the way it looks on you.

"Well, prefect? It's rude to stare you know." He says that as if he is not trying to make you, winking just over his sunglasses and striking a pose Cater had shown him on magicam in just a silly enough way that he can pass it off as one of his usual jokes. Your usual denial flutters up on your face, but your heart seems to be beating your brain to your tongue today.

"You look very cute, Lilia." That strange pit is filling with nervous flutters again, but his brain beats his soul to his mouth.

"That's good! I was worried I'd have to spend this vacation in the shadows out of shame." He says, fully aware that you are both currently sat in the shade of a particularly large umbrella precisely because he can't be out in the sun for long, even if that's the purpose of a beach vacation. Speaking of which... "Why don't you go join the others out on the beach, prefect? You helped me with my little errand, you deserve to take a break." He says it much more gently than he'd intended, if it wasn't pointless, he'd keep you here and needle you for more cute reactions. Maybe he would ask you to try on his shirt and demand yours as payment. But that's not fair, that's not life, this connection is destined to be as fleeting as it is precious. The way disappointment and confusion mingle in your eyes tells him you know that too, on some level.

"Calling you cute isn't a chore, but sure, I guess." You tell him something about calling for you if he decides to go somewhere else, and he thinks he promises you only if you do the same, but he doesn't know. He's too focused on the way the sun takes you into it's embrace, taunting everyone but certainly him specifically with just how much you look like you belong out there in the daylight.

But the moon can still observe can't it? In a way that's all he knows how to do.

Ace

You really hate how low your standards are. Who the hell gets all jittery and flustered over a guy in a boater hat? You apparently, Ace has the worst dad on vacation fit you have ever seen, assuming you are politely ignoring Azul. Something that's unfortunately easy for you to do and has led to you paying just that much more attention to Ace.

Or at least that's what you've been trying to tell him while pointedly staring out at the shore. You wish he was too lazy to put things together, but as usual, when there is an inch to tease you over, Ace Trappola will take a mile.

"Admit it, you think I'm hot." He sounds so infuriatingly smug. It makes you want to kiss him but only to shut him up! Not because you like him!

"The only thing hot about you is how full you are of hot air! Seriously, what's up with that bunch of fruit on your shoulder? Why would I find that attractive?" You know it only sounds like you are asking yourself, begging more like, because you really do think he's attractive. It's written all over your face, you might as well scream it with just how flustered you become when finally you decide to look back at him.

"It's ok to admit. It might be self-centered to say, but I really am a catch. Really prefect how did you get so lucky?" Oh he is never going to let you live this down.

"Please, you look like a dead beat dad on his third divorce!" Your voice is unnaturally high, and Ace just laughs off your insult. "Who would be attracted to you!"

"You, duh." He takes your hand and pulls you back towards the beach. "Besides, if I convinced you to marry me twice, I can do it a third time." He winks at you over his shoulder and you stop dead in your tracks, so overwhelmed with annoyed affection and embarrassment it's all you can do to grasp for a come back.

"Was it Duece."

"What?" Ace is momentarily thrown, extremely confused by what he perceives as a change of subject.

"You said you could convince me to marry you a third time, but you're on your third divorce. So when did you leave me for Deuce ?"

"Wait I didn't- you know that's not what I meant!" And yes, technically, you do know that's not what he meant, but you refuse to be the only one embarrassed here. You hope he chokes.

[peachesofmarch]

Strawberry Picking with March || SFW || Farmer x March Fanfic

———————

Summary: March has asked you out on your very first official date, to go strawberry picking. Now will he admit his admiration for you, or will he keep up the bickering?

———————

The spring breeze brushed against your cheeks as you basked in the sunlight the sky was offering you on this warm day. You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle of joy because today was the day, your first date with March!

He had asked you a day ago if you’d want to join him to go strawberry picking, and without missing a beat you said yes. Now it was tomorrow, and you were dressed in your cutest outfit and grabbed a fancy basket to put all the strawberries into. Most of which you’d sell, but hey, nothing wrong with making some tesserae.

As you walked into Mistria you could see March waiting in front of the bridge near the exit of your farm. His eyes closed with his arms crossed as he leaned against a tree, seeming like he was taking in the fresh air of the springtime.

You can’t help but wear a smile as you walk up to him and wave, “Good morning!” You say eagerly.

March opens an eye and looks over at you, “Took you a bit. I thought farmers were meant to be early risers.” He mumbled.

Your brow furrowed for a second as you held your smile, ah yes, this was indeed March in front of you. His little insults could never quite get the rise out of you though, you stayed strong. Even when he pushed your little farmer buttons.

“Well, I was up at the crack of dawn, but, I wanted to make sure I dressed appropriately, and I even brought you a little gift!” You beamed proudly, pulling out a copper ingot you forged yourself the day before.

March’s face flushed as he opened both his eyes and stared down at the ingot. A red tinting his face, just like the red in his hair, he looked like a tomato.

With a clear of his throat, he took the copper ingot and put it in his pocket, “T-Thanks. I can make something really nice out of this..”

You grinned, “yeah, the stuff you make in the blacksmith’s is always so impressive. You should teach me more sometime.” You winked.

March scoffed and turned his head away from you, “That’s enough talking. Let’s go. Don’t want the entire town to pick the strawberries before we do.”

“Let’s ‘March’ to it then!” You joke.

March groans and starts walking, you almost trip as you try to catch up to him. Almost like he was running away from your terrible puns.

——————

After a few minutes of walking, you both came to a halt at a strawberry field. A big smile was plastered across your face as you took in the beauty of it, quite literally strawberries were everywhere.

The whole town seemed to be here as well, the kids were running around chasing Dell because she found another frog and Maple wanted to kiss it while Luc was talking about how if they went back to the pond she found him at, there could be bugs everywhere.

Hayden and Eiland were chatting up a storm as they talked about both farming and artifacts used to farm in the older days. Eiland was so happy to talk about his interests of history while Hayden seemed delighted that someone was willing to listen to him talk about his precious animals.

Juniper and Valen were busy arguing, Juniper insisting her health was perfectly fine while Valen kept going on about how if she keeps making potions that smell as bad as they do, she’s going to end up sick. At least you knew Valen cared.

Josephine, Nora and Elise were talking about cooking and flowers, Josephine going on and on about how she was cooking up a storm in the kitchen last night during the gathering at the Inn. Nora and Elise were discussing with her about which produce to use and what flowers are edible to make into delicious meals.

Ryis, Adeline, and Reina were sitting on a bench laughing and talking. Adeline seemed to be relaxed, which you never see much of with how busy she is.

Quite literally everyone was doing something, felt like it would take forever to list off who is doing what…

March snapped his fingers in front of your face and suddenly you were woken up from the haze of your thoughts. You looked at him and blinked a few times, remembering that, oh shit, you were on a date.

“Do all farmers space out as much as you do?” He asked, rolling his eyes. “Come with me.”

You were about to say something but before you could he grabbed your hand and started to pull you in the direction he wanted to go.

A few moments later you both ended up in a secluded area of the strawberry fields, it was quiet around you both as the only noises was the gentle breeze and the nature sounds around.

March sighed, kneeling down to the strawberry plants and placing his basket on the ground, “You know…” He started.

“Know what?” You asked, joining him lower to the ground.

He picked a strawberry off the vine and turned to look at you, “I’ve been meaning to ask you out for a while… just… couldn’t think of the right way to do it. But, I know you love strawberries, and this is the first bloom of them this season, so… I thought you’d… enjoy it…” He got quiet as he said the last portions of his words, which made you softly smile.

“When I got here, I thought you were so mean. You’d tell me so many things, and I’d always keep a smile on my face, because for some reason, I had a small feeling it was all an act.” You started, picking a few berries off the plants, “But, as we talked more, and got closer… You slowly but surely became one of my favorite people in this town. I’d get ready every day with a gift for you, my mornings always started off with me rushing to get to your place before you went somewhere else so I could give you a beer or some ores that you may enjoy.”

March felt his ears heat up, he was absolutely flustered out of his mind hearing you say those words. He stopped picking the strawberries and covered his mouth in embarrassment, looking away.

“A-are you okay??” You asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

March took a deep breath in and turned towards you, your faces a lot closer than he was expecting, which resulted in an even deeper flush of red to coat his cheeks.

“I… Listen. I was just really protective of this town, of the people here, but… You really showed me what a hard working person really is. I looked forward to seeing your face every morning when you came by, and I… couldn’t stop thinking about you every day. It felt so strange, so new. I wasn’t used to it nor was I expecting it but… I liked it.”

You were now blushing yourself, your eyes so wide in shock at his words that you might’ve looked a little crazy.

“Um..” You hesitated for a moment, looking into his eyes gently, your lips trying to form the words you want to say.

March took a look at your face and instantly realized what you wanted. He couldn’t help but let out a chuckle and shook his head, “I think a cat got your tongue…” He muttered, wrapping his hand around your cheek.

You knew he could feel how warm your face was, but you didn’t care. You parted your lips slightly, understanding what he was about to do.

You both leaned in and then made contact with one another’s lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he gently held your face as you both shared a passionate embrace.

A few moments later you both pulled away, pressing your foreheads against each other’s. You were both mesmerized, and very red.

March was the first one to break the silence, he smiled softly and laughed, “Who knew you’d be such a good kisser?”

You furrowed your brow again with an annoyed grin, “Didn’t know you had any idea how to kiss.” You shot back, proud of yourself for the comeback.

March let out a roaring chuckle, “Alright. I’ll let you have this one.”

You smiled, “Guess there’s a first time for everything.”

Before either of you could make another sound, you hear rustling in the fields. Both of you turn your heads around to the direction of the noise, and flush in embarrassment when you realize who was spying.

“Maple!! You blew our cover!!” Dell hissed at her friend.

Maple fanned herself, “It was such a cute moment!! I couldn’t help but say aw!”

Luc sighed, “What was your plan anyway, Dell?”

Dell grumbled, crossing her arms, “I thought they knew where to find better strawberries.”

You and March sigh in unison, then look at each other again and burst out laughing.

“You guys are so sneaky!!” You giggled, standing up from kneeling down. You dusted yourself off then picked up your basket, “Lucky for you little gremlins, we DO have great strawberries, but you’ll have to catch me first!”

March snickered and picked his basket up, “You heard them, go! Go! Go!” He cheered, watching you run off with the berries in arms.

The kids cheered and raced after you, well, except for Maple, who graciously walked after you.

March admired you as you ran around the field with the kids, a smile on his face as he crossed his arms together…

“Jeez… What a day…” He smirked.

[readychilledwine]

Rhys w a small reader with a big mouth?

Little Girl, Big Mouth

Rhys with a mouthy reader headcanons

Warnings - implied smut, reader could be seen as trashy but Rhys loves it

A/n - This anon actually came from an IRL friend. She texted me about it, and I had her clarify if she meant a gossip or big mouth as in a girl who is prone to talking shit and fighting. It was talking shit and fighting, so thanks, Sammie 💕💕

Ps- I will figure out what your username is 👀 but you're very sweet for doing this the way the rest of my followers do instead of just texting me first😭

You aren't a doormat. He refuses to let you be seen as one. Even if that means you get into a verbal argument here and there.

Those verbal arguments have gotten physical.

My baby daddy always tells me not to write a check he can't cash (if you don't know what that means, it means don't start a fight that he can't finsh.) You don't have that problem with Rhysand.

If you stand, mouth firing off insults as someone else is, he will stand too. Ride or die, he won't let you fight without him.

And that is if the man isn’t already behind you, warning the male standing over you without even having to speak that if he lays a hand on you or speaks out of line, he will be finding out why Rhysand is proud to be half illyrian.

You do know time and place, but if someone insults your male, your family, or your court first, all bets are off.

Your mouth is equal opportunity. High fae, lower, male, female, high lord? You don't care. All bets are off the table with you. No one is safe.

Beron? Constantly roasting him. Asking him if beating his wife helps him feel like a real male. Keir? Verbally torn apart. How pathetic he must be to think he has some pull when he lost out on being high lord.

Hell, illyrian males aren't even safe from you. Not when three immediately are behind you the second they feel your mood change.

And it isn't that you can't fight. You are well trained and can more than hold your own. He just prefers you let him.

He's only held you back once. It was from Amren, and he hardly caught you in time before you jumped on her.

Cassian was disappointed. He wanted to watch two tiny females wrestle it out. He said it would be better if pretty lacy outfits were involved, but he was ready to settle for you in your dress and Amren in her two piece outfit.

Rhys did not stop you, nor Amren, from tackling Cassian for that comment.

He will throw you over his shoulder, ignoring you as you scream for him to put you down while still running your mouth as you're carried out of the room. But only if family is involved.

Mother knows they are no exception. You all get on each other's nerves from time to time. Besides Azriel. You could never fight Azriel.

Rhys loves it. He loves how spicy you are. He loves how much fight and sass you have. He loves how it's always to people who are mean.

He does love fighting for you as well. Sometimes, he asks you to pick fights when it's someone he has been itching to get his hands on.

He rewards you throughly when you oblige him.

"Where's that big mouth now, darling?" While your back is arched off the bed, and your mind is just a haze. "Thought you had so much to say earlier."

He loves making his girl with so much to say and so many opinions go dumb for him.

He loves it when all you can think to say is his name and barely thrown together words.

He loves putting your mouth to other uses if you start in on him, too.

He'd keep you tucked under his desk for hours, putting your mouth towards something actually useful if you two fight.

And that's rare. Your opinions are normally shared and mutual. It's why you two work. Otherwise, you would be constantly at each other's throats with how vocally dominant you both like to be.

Overall, he'd change nothing about how sassy you can be. He loves you as is. Even if it means you bandaging his hands after a trip to Illyria.

[vmprgrl-2005]

kill kill-hotline miami-biker x reader x jacket-part one

“i’m in love with a dying man”

part two wattpad link

word count-2.2k

warnings-strong language, blood, femme reader, drinking, kidnapping

an-more hotline miami slop! this is all my brain can ever produce, hope you like it anyways:)

The sounds of your footsteps echo loudly through the vacant hallway, making your anger obvious. Your urgent pace comes to a halt outside of your (soon to be ex) boyfriend’s apartment. This was becoming a routine, you storming up to his room and banging on his door, hurling insults at the man who may or may not be on the other side. 

It’s been a couple of weeks since you’ve last seen him. The thought of that fuels your anger-sadness as the splintered wood fights back against your knuckles. When you feel your hand get sore from your insistent knocking and your throat goes dry from shouting his name, you begin digging through your bag for the key to his apartment, only to remember you lost it a few weeks ago. You begin stomping away, making sure to shout one last insult before making it too far down the dingy hallway. Descending the stairs to the first floor, you notice a man mopping and staring in your direction. From across the room, you attempt to get his attention, keeping your distance from his condescending gaze. 

“Hey,” you start, “have you seen a tall blond dude wearing a letterman jacket around here recently?” You’re pretty sure this attempt at finding your absent lover is futile, but what do you have to lose? 

“Yeah,” the man replies, peering at you from under the bill of his hat, “I saw him walking around with some chick the other week.” He immediately goes back to his work, returning his dead eyes to the suds covering the vinyl floor. 

Even more resentment and jealousy fills the pit in your stomach, and you huff a quick “thanks” in response. You don’t even care to ask for details before trudging out of the building and to your car. 

The drive back to your apartment is hellish. However, it gives you just enough time to plot your revenge. You pick up your phone as soon as you get to your room, falling onto your bed and kicking your legs in the air. Without hesitation, you dial an old friend’s number, unsure if it's still in service or not. You're relieved when you hear a familiar voice on the other end. 

When you greet him, he replies with “Hey, baby.” He's always been terribly flirtatious, exactly what you need. 

“Are you doing anything tonight?” You waste no time making your intentions clear in a sugary sweet tone. 

“I was gonna head out for a bit,” he replies, the smile on his lips audible. “Why, you wanna come?” He pries teasingly. 

You let him in on your situation and how heartbroken you feel, being sure to keep up your dramatic tone, as if he needed any convincing to take you out. 

Without hesitation he says “I’ll pick you up at eight, wear something I’ll like.” It's as if you can hear him winking at you through the phone. 

“See you then” you giggle before hanging up the phone.

You spend an hour in your closet finding an outfit that looks exceptionally flattering on you, something that you knew would make your “boyfriend” place a protective arm around your waist if he caught anyone else looking at you in it. 

By the time you make it to the lobby of your apartment building your date is already outside. He's standing next to his motorcycle in all of the glory that you remember. Muscular arms unhidden in a sleeveless neon pink vest, shaggy teal dyed hair, dreamy eyes, and an overly flirtatious, ridiculously handsy attitude. 

“Looking like that I wanna keep you all to myself” he purrs as you walk towards him. 

“Save it” you reply as you bat at his arm playfully, a blush overwhelming your face. He laughs cooly, climbing onto his bike. You slide on behind him, nervous to get too close. 

His hands brush the sides of your thighs as he grabs your hips and pulls you closer to him, smirking at you. “Come on, you’re gonna fall off,” he says, pulling you even closer by taking your hands and looping your arms around his waist. 

With that, he revs the bike’s engine loudly and pulls onto the street. As he drives, you notice that he's not wearing his usual teal helmet, and a bit of smudgy black makeup adorns his eyes. You weren’t exactly expecting him to try and impress you. Every time he stops at a red light, he turns to look at you, eyes glistening in the light of the sunset. One of his hands meets your waist, the leather of his fingerless glove is warm against your exposed skin. He winks at you before speeding off again, accelerating even faster than he did at the last stoplight. Butterflies fill your stomach at the sound of the engine and the sight of palm trees rapidly passing your vision. You were used to Jacket driving recklessly, but there was something new about this, something more exciting. He parks outside of a neon-lit building in a spot at the very front, it's obvious that he's a regular here. Dismounting the bike, your knees wobble, dizzy from how fast you were travelling. Luckily, his arm snakes around your waist, hand resting on your hip to keep you steady. 

“Let them stare,” he mutters close to your ear. At first you’re confused, until you turn towards the line into the club. Out of every few people, someone is looking at you, either staring in curiosity or glaring maliciously. 

Panicking, you turn to him, mouthing “What the fuck?” 

“I always come here alone. This is gonna make headlines, baby” he smiles as he immediately goes to the front of the line, walking inside nonchalantly. 

Despite the hand clamped around your waist, the bouncer still stops you, gripping your shoulder tightly. 

“Woah, c’mon, she’s with me” your date exclaims, yanking you out of the bouncer’s hold. Not waiting for permission, he continues pulling you inside. 

The ruthless stares don’t subside as you enter the club. Part of you begins to regret doing this and your mind wanders as you walk through the flashing lights. 

“Here sugar, I got you a drink.” His words bring you back to reality as you take the glass from his hand. It’s your favorite, somehow he remembered. Chemically top-shelf liquor burns the back of your throat as you down a large sip.  

“You really are heartbroken, aren’t you?” He coos, “Did pretty little blondie just up and leave?” 

You nod before elaborating, “Apparently with some other girl, too.” 

He scoffs loudly in response. “Fuck him, don’t even think about him tonight. You're way too pretty for him anyway.” He says, looking you up and down with a suggestive glint in his eyes. 

Secretly you hope that he’s nearby, seeing you with a different guy’s hands on your body, getting more and more jealous by the second knowing that you’re not his anymore. You look around, curious to see if you can spot him in the crowd, but all you notice is a pair of men at a table in the corner staring at you. They look back and forth between you and each other. One of them pulls out his wallet, shows something to the other man, and then pulls out a phone. This concerns you slightly but isn’t surprising, not after the looks you’ve been getting since you walked in. 

Trying to brush it off, you turn the other way. “We should go dance” you exclaim, practically dragging him off of the bar stool. 

“Whatever you want baby,” he replies, catching up with your rushed pace. Other men stare at you but don’t dare to approach you, not when they notice the muscular arms that stay wrapped around you as you dance. His hands never leave you, constantly resting on your shoulders, hips, wrapped around your waist, or attached to your hands. After a while, you end up on a couch somewhere on the much calmer second floor. You’re trashed, just barely able to see straight. 

A familiar presence leans in close and mutters in your ear, sending shivers up your spine. “I’m going to go get you some water for you, stay here ok?” You nod and he kisses your cheek before walking away. 

Even though you’re out of it, you can still recognize the two men from earlier walking past you again. You stare back, sending them an equally dirty look, furrowing your brows in an attempt to deter them. When your date comes back, you tell him about the creepy dudes between sips of water. 

“They’re just jealous that I have the prettiest girl here” he says while putting an arm around you, still as flirtatious as ever. The walk outside is a blur. All you remember is his hands holding your face as you sat on his bike and him carrying your shoes as you walked to an elevator. 

As you slip in and out of reality, your head spins, a mess of neon colors and tender touches race around you and you can’t help but be reminded of who you’ve been looking for this whole time. 

The next time you’re fully conscious you’re in a bed filled with an unfamiliar masculine scent. You can hear someone moving from across the room, and you open your eyes to see your one-night flirt styling his hair in a cracked mirror on his dresser. 

“Hey lightweight” he whispers, “sorry for waking you up.”

You sit up, rubbing your eyes and sleepily replying “It's alright.” 

Once you’re fully awake, you notice he’s not wearing a shirt, to which your eyes widen. He must notice this as he hurries to say “Nothing happened between us last night, I slept on the couch.”

Instead of responding, you hide your now bright red cheeks behind your hands, to which you can hear him giggle. You continue to admire him as he throws a shirt over his head before walking over to where you’re laying. 

“I need to head out, I’ll take you back to your place later. You should get some rest” he mutters as he pets your hair tenderly. 

“Alright, be safe” you reply quietly while staring up at him, doe eyed. 

“Don’t worry doll, I’ll come back to you in one piece” he says, winking in your direction before leaving the room. 

When you hear him leave, you collapse onto the soft pillows behind you, falling into a dreamy haze of memories of your love affair once again. 

—

The endless days and even longer nights were starting to blur together. The blood that's seeping out of his abdomen slowly drying is the only way he’s able to tell time. He misses you, he hasn’t stopped thinking about you. He’s spent hours praying to everything he doesn’t believe in that you’re safe. You’re the only reason he's been able to keep himself alive through the haze of death that's been lingering around his blood soaked body for days now. Clicking echoes off of the walls as the many locks on the door to the room he's in are undone.  Two men saunter in, single file, both grinning maliciously. 

“Look at this.” One of them says bluntly through a thick Russian accent. 

A slightly crumpled picture rests in the man’s hand. It takes a moment before his exhausted, bloodshot eyes can focus, but he eventually gathers that it's a picture of you, alive and unharmed. It takes another moment for him to realize that you’re in someone else's arms. It's nearly impossible for him not to react, but he manages to keep up a stoic appearance in order to avoid even more torture. 

“He’s another one of 50 blessings’s stupid little puppets, and now he’s got his hands on your precious angel,” the man continues. Every word out of his mouth stings worse than the last. 

“They were at a club together all night, he’s awfully handsy.” The second man chimes in, holding up another picture of you with your “friend’s” hands creeping down your waist. 

It seems as though his lack of reaction bores them, and they throw the pictures on the ground in front of him before exiting the room. Moments after the door slams shut, tears begin to fall down his bruised face. He grits his teeth and exhales sharply. He didn’t want to cry, he didn't want to let himself feel the pain of losing you, especially when you didn’t seem to be bothered by his absence. It wasn’t surprising that you were with someone else, he did disappear with no explanation, but he didn’t want to believe that you’d move on from him so quickly. The tears falling onto his clothes mix with the still fresh blood on his face and leave behind diluted red stains on his once white shirt. 

Even though his wrists are rubbed raw, he still tries to pull his hands apart and rip the rope restraining him, even if it's just a small amount. 

He continues holding onto hope that he can get out, it's the only thing that keeps him sane through the blinding anguish he’s been subjected to. There’s still a need deep inside of him to see you again, even if it means putting his life in even more danger to do so.

[ck4yd3-n]

THINGS I LOOK FORWARD TO IN MY BSD DR ☾⋆

♡ - The Agency's café (Café Uzumaki) scent, like imagine you just went there to start your day and suddenly you get a whiff of the scent of a warming café. I've always adored the scent of coffee even in this reality. It is said the manager smells like coffee himself.. I'm gonna need a tutorial on him.

♡ - My everyday habit of going up to the Agency rooftop before shift ends and just relishing in the warmth of the sunset playing before me. The cool breeze, the painted skies, thinking about how much I've accomplished. You can't just not watch the sunset in your DR (I mean it's totally okay if you don't, watching the sunset in your home reality just feels different, yknow?).

♡ - The overwhelming amount of paperwork. I know, I know, I sound crazy, but I want to experience that relief after I finally finished covering up for Dazai's 2-week due paperwork. Might be the same as school work, but just a different feeling.

♡ - The errands.. oh, the errands. I don't care if it's something as simple as picking up some groceries, at least I'll get back by foot by the time I'm done. Walking through the streets of Yokohama while I carry the heavy load of vegetables for the Agency kitchen.

♡ - The PM/ADA nights. Please, I NEEDED a healthy relationship between the two organizations. What could be better than shifting to a reality where there IS a healthy relationship between the two? Mori is not a perv and treats Elise like his daughter.. Dazai still left the Mafia because of Odasaku (sorry), pretty sure I made Mori beg for forgiveness from Yosano and Dazai.. and now they're like popstars in the 2000s. Partying every friday night in a chosen individual's house. And the sleepovers.. I never had a sleepover outside of this reality's house before, so this is such an anticipated experience.

♡ - The fact that I can play any kind of guitar. Actually, this was always a scripted idea for all of my drs.. except for this reality. Cuz I'm too broke to buy one, let alone have time to learn. Typically the ukulele since it's small.

♡ - Using my ability, obviously. Can't wait to be the Avatar without firebending, metalbending, and not that OP. Thanks to Fukuzawa's ability to let his subordinates have better control of their ability, I won't have the fear of accidentally taking someone's air out of their lungs or drowning them like I once feared in 2020.

♡ - The midday escapes to a place that you know if you know where to find it. As I mentioned a few blogs ago, Dazai and Chuuya are my father figures—I know they aren't exactly the ideal ones, but they're better parents than my biological parents.. (in my DR, of course you'd have the trauma of a psychologically abusive household like I did in this reality✌️) and even if Dazai left the Mafia, he and Chuuya are still in touch even offering Dazai to stay in his place until he finds one himself. During their mafia days, they bought an old shed off a property and turned it into a wonderland of themselves—I'm talking about painted walls of half hearted insults, the corner of blankets, colored bandages acting like fairy lights on the ceiling, a whole pantry dedicated to crab and mackerels..? Yes.

♡ - THE EVENTS GOD YES!! Christmas in the ADA, in Yokohama while it's snowing?? YAYAYEYAYYSES. Also scripted an annual day where a member gets chosen by the spinning wheel to be mimicked (idk if I worded that right) and that chosen member is everyone's outfit for the day. For example Atsushi—everyone will either dress up as a white tiger or actually dress like him. For the entire day. From the first hour to the last hour of the shift. They'll act like them too.

♡ - The days where Chuuya teaches me how to play an electric guitar. Yes, Chuuya plays an electric guitar in my DR, fight me. He would boast to Dazai that he's more musically gifted than him, and would nudge me to show off. I took inspiration from his this reality's VA, who's also the one singing the OPs alongside Tachihara's VA.

Anddd a lot more! I really can't wait to go back home.

[candycandy00]

The Doll House - A Gojo x Reader Fanfic Part 2

You sell yourself to the Doll House to pay your mom’s medical expenses, only to discover your trainer is the guy who bullied you relentlessly in high school: Gojo Satoru. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Toji’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

Note: Please remember that these stories don’t take place at the same time, or even one after the other! Consider each one its own timeline. So if you see Geto and Toji with other dolls, don’t be alarmed lol. I had to do it this way because if I don’t, by the time I get to the last trainer, there won’t be any other trainers left to interact with!

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Gojo’s. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Chubby Reader. Dubcon. Pet Play. Bullying. Collars/Leashes. Fingering. Anal sex. Vaginal sex. Blindfolds. Bondage. Anal plugs. Humiliation. Oral sex. Gojo being an asshole.

The next morning, Gojo wakes up early, too eager to begin Chubby Bunny’s real training. Last night was just testing the waters. 

He keeps a stock of new items ready and available, in various sizes and themes, so he’s well prepared. By the time Chubby Bunny wakes up, he has his bed lined with cute outfits for her. 

She gets to her feet, stretches, and walks over to look at the clothes, the chain on her leash clinking. “What is all this?” she asks, picking up one of the pieces. 

“It’s your wardrobe,” he tells her. 

She doesn’t seem to like them. Her face scrunches up as if she just saw something disgusting. “These are all way too small. They won’t fit me.”

“Of course they will. I picked them specifically to highlight your best features!”

She glares at him, like he insulted her terribly. Why does she always react that way to compliments? 

“Try something on,” he says, walking over and unhooking the leash from her collar. “You can change in the bathroom if you don’t want to do it here.” 

She sifts through the items, holding several of them up and looking increasingly upset. “Why are there holes in the ass of all of these?”

Gojo laughs. “For your tail, silly!”

She looks confused, but eventually chooses an outfit and goes to the bathroom. He hears the lock click into place and thinks it’s cute that she’s so shy. When she emerges a little while later, she’s holding her pajamas in front of herself like a shield. 

“I was right, it’s too small,” she says, hovering near the bathroom door. 

“Come on over and let me see,” Gojo tells her. 

She doesn’t move. “It looks awful on me. Can I just wear something else?”

Gojo rolls his eyes. “Chubby Bunny, I saw you completely naked last night. I’ve already memorized every single inch of you. So stop being bashful and let me see.”

He meant the words to be reassuring, but she looks horrified. Regardless, she steps further into the room and slowly drops the pajamas. 

Gojo doesn’t think he’s ever gotten hard so fast in his life.  She’s wearing the outfit that covers the most, but it’s still super revealing. It resembles a pale pink one-piece swimsuit, with high cut areas for the thighs and tiny spaghetti straps at the top. Her lovely, pillowy tits are barely contained, threatening to pop out at any moment. The matching pink thigh high stockings, which she probably put on to cover a little more, only make her look more erotic. The way the thick flesh of her thighs sticks out a little over the top of the stockings drives him wild. 

She’s looking away from him, crossing one arm over her chest, not realizing that only squeezes her tits together and makes her look even sexier. 

He stops staring long enough to remember the outfit isn’t complete yet. Not without the finishing touches. He grabs the bunny ears and puts them on her head, and hooks the leash back onto her collar. Finally, the tail. 

When he brings it to her, he makes sure to open the sealed package in front of her. He wants her to know this is a new item, not something he used on a previous doll. It’s a fluffy, round white bunny tail, connected to a shiny silver butt plug. “Get on the bed, on all fours, and I’ll put your tail in.”

Her eyes flick between the tail and his face, frantic, like a frightened little rabbit. She really is the cutest! 

“You can’t be serious,” she says. 

“This is part of the training. I said I wouldn’t give you special treatment, remember? All my pets have to have a tail.”

“How long do I have to wear that thing?”

“Until I take it out,” he says. 

She’s still looking at the tail as if it’s some dangerous weapon he’s going to use to attack her. 

“Look, it’s way smaller than my dick, so it shouldn’t hurt at all.”

She looks down, lowering her voice as she says, “But I’m still sore from last night.”

Somehow, hearing her say that in that shy little voice turns him on even more. He pulls the leash, forcing her to come closer to him, and gently rubs her head. “It’s okay, Bunny. I’ll lube you up really good. Once you get used to it, I promise you’ll like it.”

She finally nods and climbs onto the bed, her ass pointing at him. Fuck, she’s hot. He has to resist the urge to fuck her again right there. He controls himself, and opens the lube, dripping it into the hole in her outfit, right over her asshole. He massages it in, enjoying the way she quivers and jerks away. He slides his other hand down and finds her clit, giving it a few quick strokes with his fingers. She makes the cutest little squeak he’s ever heard, her whole body jolting. He’s never seen a woman with such a sensitive pussy before, and he loves it. 

She looks back at him over her shoulder. “A-are you done yet?”

“Nope,” he says, holding the tail up to his face, running his tongue over the plug. She watches as he coats it thoroughly with his saliva, her face looking more and more embarrassed. “Now, relax your body. I’m putting it in.”

She turns away, facing forward again. Her hands are gripping the sheets tightly. He wishes she would just relax. But he can’t wait forever, so he spreads her cheeks with his fingers and lines the tail up with her hole. It slides in easily, and she only makes a few quiet whimpers. The hole in the outfit has a cute bow attached at the back, which fastens around the tail, keeping it securely in. 

“It’s in,” he says, stepping back. 

For a few seconds, she doesn’t move an inch, then she gradually moves off the bed and stands beside it. She keeps trying to turn and look at her ass. “It feels weird,” she tells him. 

“You’ll get used to it,” he responds. “Turn around and wiggle your tail for me.”

She gives him another one of those looks, the kind she used to give him in high school when he swiped her notebook from her desk and made her beg him to give it back. It riles him up even now. 

Still looking half angry, half mortified, she turns to face away from him and gives the tiniest shake of her ass. 

“Oh come on, you can do better than that! Wiggle!” He gives the leash a little tug, just to urge her on. 

She glances back at him again, then sighs and bends over slightly, showing off her round ass. Then she wiggles it properly, the bunny tail wagging in the air, her thick thighs and ass jiggling in the cutest way. 

Fuck, he can’t hold back. She’s way too fucking adorable. 

He jerks the leash, pulling her to him, right up against his body. Ah, she’s so soft! But his cock is so hard it feels like it’s about to explode. 

“Get on your knees,” he says, almost breathless, “and open your mouth.”

She looks at him with wide eyes, a blush creeping over her features. But she’s an obedient pet, so she carefully lowers herself to her knees, making sure not to disrupt the tail. By the time he has his dick out, she’s waiting with her mouth open, just like he wanted. 

She’s perfect. 

There’s no hesitation when she wraps her plump lips around his cock, her wet tongue gliding over his tip. She has one hand at the base of his shaft, stroking to the same rhythm as her lips, and the other hand gently squeezing his balls. 

Gojo can’t help but groan. “Holy fuck, how does a virgin learn to suck cock like this?”

She pulls back and looks up at him, strings of saliva connecting her mouth to his tip. “I’ve done this before,” she says, then goes back to sucking him off, taking him so deep he hits the back of her throat. 

He can’t take his eyes off her, watching her head bob back and forth, hearing the wet sounds she’s making. The girl he’s wanted for so many years, the girl he’s been crazy over, is on her knees in front of him, deep throating his cock. It’s the best feeling in the whole world. 

It’s occurred to Gojo that she’s not aware of his feelings for her, now or even back in high school. He’ll tell her at some point. Right now, he’s kind of turned on by the idea of her thinking it’s a one-sided thing, of her pining away for him. It makes teasing her so much more fun. 

“You must be loving this,” he says, grinning when her eyes shift up to his face. “The guy you thought you had no shot with has his cock in your mouth.”

She lowers her eyes, but doesn’t stop. He liked it better when she looked up at him, but her tongue on the underside of his dick feels so amazing, he can barely think straight. 

He holds out as long as he can, wanting to stretch this out for as long as possible. She just looks so hot like this, submissively pleasing him, the bunny tail sticking out behind her, those huge tits bouncing as she moves her head back and forth. But her mouth feels way too good. 

“Ah, fuck, I’m gonna cum in your mouth!”

He doesn’t feel her try to pull away, but just in case, he grips the leash and holds her in place while he fills her mouth. 

*********************

You don’t struggle as Gojo’s warm, sticky cum shoots down your throat. This is the one sexual act you have experience with, so at least it doesn’t shock you. 

Glancing up at him, you hate just how physically perfect he is. Why does this asshole have to be so beautiful? He smells wonderful, his scent almost intoxicating. Even his cum is delicious. 

He uses the leash to pull you upwards, to your feet, then he rubs the top of your head, between the white fluffy ears, and says, “Good bunny!”

This is degrading. You feel like crying, and you feel deeply ashamed that you actually enjoyed sucking his cock. It even made you wet. What is wrong with you? Maybe some weak, pathetic part of you really does feel lucky that such a beautiful man is even wiling to touch you. 

After the two of you clean up, Gojo says, “Let’s go get breakfast.”

“Okay. I’ll get dressed,” you reply. 

He gives you a strange look. “You’re already dressed.”

You look at him with horror. “You want me to wear this?! Where other people can see?!”

“Why do you think I had you put it on?” he asks. 

“But… the tail…”

“What about it?”

You squirm uncomfortably. “It’s hard to walk with this thing in.”

He grins. “Pets don’t walk around on two legs, silly Bunny.” Then he jangles the leash. 

“Please don’t tell me I have to hop,” you say, exasperated. 

“No, not hop. I tried that once with another bunny and she pulled a muscle. Poor thing. But you do have to crawl,” he says. Then he smiles brightly. “Suguru and Nanami will be so surprised to see you!”

“Oh God, I forgot about them! I can’t wear this out there! I look gross!” Your voice is getting more panicked. This is hell. The three hottest guys you went to school with are going to be seeing you in this skin tight outfit! You cross your arms over your chest and stomach, feeling hideous. 

Gojo tilts his head as he looks you up and down. “Gross? But you look so squeezable! They’re gonna be jealous!”

There he goes, being sarcastic again. He must think this is funny. “It’s too embarrassing,” you say. 

“Oh don’t worry about that!” Gojo says with a laugh. “Suguru makes his doll walk around stark naked! She doesn’t even wear socks. Now that’s embarrassing!”

“That sounds awful,” you say, reconsidering your earlier assumption that Geto would have been better. 

“We have this little game we play when he gets a new doll. I pretend to harass her and try to touch her so he can swoop in and be all, ‘Don’t touch my doll!’ and make her think he’s protective.”

“Wow, I didn’t realize he’s such a manipulative person,” you tell him. The Geto you remember was a fairly nice, chill guy. Maybe he just seemed that way compared to Gojo. Not that you knew him all that well. 

“Nanami lets his dolls wear whatever, but he makes them call him Daddy and he spanks them with his belt when they misbehave.”

You shudder. “Ugh, cringe.”

“I know, right?” Gojo laughs. 

You snicker too, and then catch yourself. Why are you standing here talking to him like he really is an old friend? 

If he notices the shift in your mood, he doesn’t let on. He’s still grinning like an idiot as he opens the door. “Okay, get on your hands and knees like a good pet.”

You sigh dejectedly and get down on the floor. This is going to be humiliating, but at least everyone here is used to Gojo and his bullshit, so they won’t be surprised. And at least you’re not totally naked. 

He leads you down the hall, walking slowly to give you time to keep up with him as he holds your leash. Luckily the hallway is carpeted, so it’s relatively soft under your knees, but the tail still feels strange in your ass. You dread reaching the dining room, being seen by strangers and old classmates alike. But you don’t have a choice, so you might as well get it over with. 

In the dining room, Gojo leads you past a few tables, past a few strangers who don’t even glance at you. He stops at a table where Geto is sitting with his completely nude doll. Her face is bright red. 

“Look who’s here,” Gojo says, pulling up the leash so that you have to raise up slightly. “It’s Chubby Bunny! You remember her, right Suguru?”

Geto looks surprised. “Yes, I remember her,” he says, his gaze shifting from you to Gojo. 

You hear Gojo calling Nanami over, and soon the blonde man is standing in front of you, looking extremely uncomfortable. 

“She’s my new doll,” Gojo announces cheerfully. “Isn’t that funny?”

Nanami gives you a pitying glance. “I see. How unfortunate for you,” he says to you before walking away. 

Geto and Gojo are speaking quietly to each other, and you hear Geto say, “This is a bad idea. You can’t control yourself when it comes to her and you know it.”

“It’s fine,” Gojo tells him. “I’m being professional.”

You shudder. What sort of bullying does Geto think his friend will put you through? 

Gojo eventually leads you to a table and then gets food for both of you. He puts some food, steamed vegetables, in the palm of his hand and holds it out to you. “Here, eat.”

You think this is weird, but you reach out your hand to take a piece. 

Gojo pulls his hand back. “No no, eat out of my hand.”

You grimace, but realize he’s not going to let this go. So you lean forward and use your tongue to scoop some food into your mouth. Gojo watches you with a pleased expression. “Don’t worry, when we’re alone in my room, you can eat whatever you want. We’ll just do it this way in the dining hall.”

So this is just about embarrassing you and making you feel low. You’re not surprised. You spend the rest of the meal eating out of Gojo’s hand, wondering when he’s going to eat anything himself. When it’s over, he leads you back to his room and hooks your leash to his nightstand again. 

“I’m gonna go grab us some real food,” he says. “I’ll be right back.”

With no other option, not even able to sit down with the tail in, you stand there in his room while he leaves. 

************************

In the kitchen, Gojo is grabbing a double armload of snacks when Geto confronts him. 

“Are you out of your mind?” Geto demands, his hand on the counter. “You’re not supposed to get attached to dolls you train, and here you are training the girl you were in love with in high school!”

Gojo is clutching the snacks. “Suguru, I’m keeping her.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not. She’s everything I dreamed she would be. She’s so soft and cute and you wouldn’t believe the blowjob she gave me this morning! Her tongue is like magic!”

Geto frowns. “I’d rather not hear that kind of stuff about two of my former classmates. Anyway, keep in mind that she has the right to refuse. It’s in her contract.”

“She won’t,” Gojo says quickly. “Why would she? She admitted she liked me in high school.”

“In high school, not now. And even then it was probably only before you started bullying her.”

Gojo scoffs. “That wasn’t so bad. I just teased her.”

Geto narrows his eyes. “Satoru, you tripped her in the hallway and made her fall in front of everyone. Among many other things.”

“I tripped you and Haibara all the time! I was just joking around!”

“It’s different with girls,” Geto says. “Remember when you tripped Shoko?”

Gojo looks down with a pouty expression. “She smashed my sunglasses.”

“Yeah, and she was your friend.”

Gojo looks back up. “That all happened so long ago. I’m sure Chubby Bunny is over it by now.”

“Just try to think things through,” Geto tells him. “From her perspective, she’s now the sex slave of her former bully. This is probably a nightmare for her.”

Gojo smirks. “It didn’t seem so nightmarish when she was moaning and cumming last night.”

Geto turns around. “Alright, I’m done. Just think about what I said.”

Several days later, Gojo still hasn’t popped Chubby Bunny’s cherry. He knows she wants him to. In the heat of some of their intimate moments, she’s asked him to. He wants to literally more than anything, but he wants her to beg for it. The very thought of it makes his dick throb. 

Presently, he has her spread out on his bed like a buffet. She’s wearing nothing but the collar, bunny ears, and a pair of thigh high stockings, the rest of her on display for him. She’s lying on her back, her hands tied behind her. She’s blindfolded, and her legs are spread far apart, bent up at the knees, her body partially folded. 

She’s twitching as he pumps a large pink dildo in and out of her ass. He loves having her in this position, her tits jutting out and bouncing as she jerks, her pussy totally exposed and defenseless. With his free hand he runs his thumb up her slit, loving the way it glistens with her arousal. When he parts the flesh and strokes her quivering clit, her body nearly jumps off the bed. She’s so so so sensitive! Playing with her body is the most fun Gojo has ever had. 

Being blindfolded, all her other senses must be heightened. She’s breathing hard as his thumb continuously rubs her delicate little nub, her mouth making the sweetest cries he’s ever heard. 

“Does my cute bunny want me to fuck her tight little cunt?” he asks, still plunging the dildo into her other hole. 

She nods, her body shaking like a leaf. 

“Want my huge cock stuffed into this virgin pussy?” 

“Y-yes!”

He keeps rubbing her clit, watching her come undone, the pleasure overtaking her. She’s at her cutest like this, so overwhelmed by stimulation that she starts crying. He can see tears leaking out beneath the blindfold. 

“You’re gonna have to ask for it, Chubby Bunny,” he says, lowering his voice. 

She squirms under his touch. “Please,” she whispers. 

“Please… what?”

She lets out a sob. “Please… fuck me!”

He grins. “I’m already fucking you. Be more specific.”

“Please… fuck my pussy with your cock!”

He stares down at her trembling form, thinking it’s the most beautiful sight on earth. The woman he’s craved all this time is crying in his bed, begging for his cock. He has to be inside her, soon, or he just might cum in his pants. 

*************************

You’re a complete mess. Gojo has reduced you to this. You’re lying here, shaking, tied up, totally helpless, your body being pleasured relentlessly while your heart is tormented. You don’t even know who you are anymore. The most pitiful, disgusting side of yourself has emerged, desperate for this man to fuck you. 

You feel him pulling off your blindfold, and your breath hitches. You wish he’d left it on. You don’t want to look into those haunting eyes anymore. But the blindfold is gone, and you open your eyes to find his face inches from yours, looking like a heavenly being. 

He’s not smirking or grinning right now. He’s staring at you, his perfect lips slightly parted, his hair messy, his cheeks slightly pink. He looks into your teary eyes and then kisses you on the lips, gently. Then he slides down, pulls the dildo out, and tosses it aside. He leans his face down, holding your slick folds open with his fingers, and begins licking your clit. 

You jerk, arching your back, screaming in ecstasy. His tongue glides all over it, his saliva mixing with your arousal, making you absolutely drenched. And when you’re right on the edge of cumming, he stops and pulls back. You look at him with pleading eyes, and he gives you a kind, warm smile. It’s not the smug grin he usually wears. 

“I had to make sure you’re nice and slippery,” he says. “I don’t want to hurt my Bunny.”

You know what that means. He’s finally going to fuck you for real! He scoots back onto his knees and opens his pants, hurrying to pull out his massive cock. Then he moves closer to you, pulling your legs onto his shoulders and bending you even more. 

You gasp as you feel his cock begin to enter you. At first it’s going in easily, but at some point it starts to hurt. It’s not unbearable pain, but an ache that spreads from your pussy and up to your lower abdomen. And he’s still going deeper, as if he wants to fuck directly into your heart. 

You squirm beneath him, and he puts a hand on your face, making you look at him, at those damned eyes. “Feel it? Feel me inside you?”

“Yes,” you squeak out. “It… it hurts… it’s too big.”

You feel him push even deeper in, and then he groans. “Fuck… I’m all the way in… so fucking tight…” Then he locks eyes with you again. “Now that I’m in, what do you want me to do?”

“Ah… f-fuck me…”

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice so lovely in your ear. “If I start fucking you now, I might wreck this poor little pussy.”

Your mind feels cloudy. You don’t care anymore. You don’t care if he hurts you. All you want, right now, is to be fucked by him. “Wreck me,” you say between ragged breaths. “Ruin me!”

You hear him inhale sharply, and his eyes seem to shimmer as he looks down at you. “I’ll ruin you,” he says huskily. And in a voice so low you can barely hear him, he adds, “Because you’re mine.”

He fucks you then, plunging in and out of you, stretching you to the limit, holding your face still with his hand to make you maintain eye contact while his other hand squeezes whatever flesh it can find. Your brain can barely process whether it hurts or feels amazing. His hard body is pressed against you, his skin creating friction against your sensitive clit as he pounds into you, flooding your senses. 

You hear his voice, saying something incomprehensible. It sounds like, “You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine”. He kisses you again, devouring your mouth, and pulls back in time to watch your face as you cum, staring into your eyes. When he cums minutes later, he does so deeply inside you. 

He pulls out slowly. His pretty pale cock is coated in a thin layer of sticky red blood, mixed with your cum and his. He pants for a minute, still staring at you, like he can’t take his eyes off you. 

Still in his bed instead of the pet bed, you fall asleep before even cleaning up. 

Over the next few days, Gojo fucks you constantly, in one hole or another. Your body is growing to crave his touch, crave the pleasure he gives you. But your heart is in turmoil. 

One day, as you’re stepping out of the bathroom in your pajamas before bed, you start to feel dizzy, lightheaded. You’ve had spells of anemia for years now, and you groan as you grip Gojo’s dresser. You don’t want to faint here, in front of him. You hate showing him even more of your weaknesses. But the room is going dark, and you feel like you’re falling. 

You hear Gojo’s voice. It sounds distant. 

“Chubby Bunny? Are you okay? What’s wrong? Hey!”

You think you feel two strong arms wrap around you as the room goes completely black. 

Tag List:

@suguguro @kaedear @onyxsphynx @poopoobuttsy @butterskyy @collectionofdolls @akaotv @witchbybirth @bloofinntoona @wasurenagusaa @tclbts @tojirin @lucyrocks86 @badbyeyoongi @97britt @aydene @lzaj19 @lyn-lotte @missthatgirl @peachedtv @ladytamayolover @nanam1nx @deegausserr @voids-universe @hinata7346 @maflorex @issracollen @xkittiecatx @ryumurin @emrys3456 @mysecretesc8pe @typicalloser3

[dioslesbianwife]

Yay thanks for the response! I just wanted to make a request for bucci gang all playing dress to impress on roblox together. Just thought it'd be silly lol!

sure! dti's literally the only roblox game i actually play haha, it'd be so fun to play with jojo chars- anyway thank you for requesting <3

Giorno Giovanna

Giorno takes the game way too seriously.

The moment he learns how the game works, he studies each theme like it’s a battle plan.

“The prompt is ‘Pastel Princess’? Understood. I will design a look that evokes elegance, softness, and regality.”

His avatars always end up looking like fashion magazine covers. Even the judges (i.e., random online players) are stunned by how coordinated and detailed his fits are.

Refuses to vote for Mista because his outfits are never on theme.

Mista: “It’s a pastel gunman!”

Giorno: “It’s a no from me.”

Bruno Bucciarati

Unsurprisingly great at the game. His taste is effortlessly stylish.

He calmly builds his outfits without fuss, and always includes at least one zipper motif- just out of habit.

“The theme is ‘Cyberpunk Rockstar’? I see. I’ll add chrome accents and a bit of neon.”

Gets second place consistently and congratulates whoever wins, even if it’s Narancia in a clown wig.

Judges fairly and diplomatically.

Sometimes gives feedback like: “The colors were strong, but your accessories clashed slightly with the silhouette.”

Everyone else: staring in shock that he knows this much about fashion terminology.

Guido Mista

Thinks the game is dumb until he realizes he can put his avatar in a cowboy hat and sunglasses.

Immediately obsessed.

“This is me now. I’m Cowboy Baby 007.”

Picks guns no matter the theme.

“What do you mean ‘Cottagecore Fairy’? I’m armed and ready for the forest, aren’t I?”

Gets last place often but acts like he was robbed every single time.

“They just don’t get my vision.”

Narancia Ghirga

Always chooses the craziest items in the dressing room and has no clue what the prompt is.

Theme: “Goth Vampire.” Narancia: wears neon green mohawk and sparkly pink crop top.

“Guys, look!! I gave myself a dragon tail and rocket boots!”

Somehow still ends up in the top 3 because his avatar is so bizarre it loops back around to being iconic.

Screams whenever the timer runs out. “WAIT, I WASN’T DONE!!”

Shouts during voting: “VOTE FOR ME OR I’M MAKING SPICE GIRLS DROPKICK YOUR AVATAR!!”

The most chaotic good energy of the group.

Leone Abbacchio

Does not want to play. Complains the entire time.

“This is ridiculous. I have better things to do.”

Still makes an avatar. It’s just all black with a skull mask and red glowing eyes.

Refuses to match the theme, ever. “What part of ‘Magical Mermaid’ includes rainbow glitter? I’m a sea reaper.”

Somehow wins once and never stops talking about it.

“See? Even the children of Roblox know true fashion when they see it.”

Leaves passive-aggressive comments in the chat like “Guess the judges don’t know anything about aesthetic consistency.”

Trish Una

Dominates the game. She was born for this.

Immediately understands how to blend style and trend.

Wears angel wings, platform heels, and a flower crown for “Heavenly Royalty” and gets first place without trying.

Always finishes building her outfit early, then walks around critiquing the others.

“Narancia, you put polka dots and camo print together. Are you okay?”

Gets into minor arguments with Mista every time he makes a theme-breaking outfit.

“You look like a confused mall cop.”

“It’s edgy! Boundary breaking! You wouldn’t get it!”

Pannacotta Fugo

Desperately wants to win, but rage-quits if he doesn’t.

Theme: “Casual Beachwear.” Fugo spends five minutes finding the perfect linen shorts and beach sunglasses.

Still loses to Narancia in a banana costume.

“THIS IS AN INSULT TO STYLE. I SPENT REAL TIME ON THIS!”

Tries to remain calm, but one loss sets him off.

Leaves the game and rejoins under a different username like “SunshineStylePro777” just to try again.

Once he gets first place, he breathes a deep sigh of relief and doesn’t speak for five minutes.

Bonus:

Giorno: “You can’t put angel wings on every outfit.”

Trish: “Watch me.”

Bruno: “Let’s keep the judging fair and balanced-”

Mista: “I voted for myself five times on the Sex Pistol’s accounts.”

Narancia: “Can we play the pizza game now?”

Abbacchio: Logs out every time he loses, but rejoins silently five minutes later with a new outfit.

Fugo: Muting everyone in the group chat to avoid snapping after hearing the word “ate” for the eleventeenth time.

[pinovapie]

DRDT Headcanons!! (1/idk)

Decided to post some headcanons for various characters!! (there might be some mild projection on my favourites lol) idk if i'll do more for other characters?? Also, sorry for less Teruko HCs,,, i meant to do 5 for each but uh,,, you can tell who my favourites are i guess??

Also, disclaimer, these are headcanons!! I wrote these before Chap 2 Part 2, they may be disproven and become out of date in the future!!

Under a read more to not clog up space,, also TW: (unintentional) Self harm

Ace:

He grew up on a farm.

His parents had a ton of kids in the hopes that at least one would be successful. Whoever got the best test results/ won an award/ has the highest salary (based on age, idk how old Ace's siblings are) was the favourite and showered with attention.

This meant Ace and his siblings grew up willing to literally and metaphorically shove eachother face first in the mud to be the favourite child. There was a lot of sabotage, insults and threats constantly.

He struggles to form meaningful friendships due to trust issues.

He'll hold a grudge for years. He probably still despises and talks shit about some kid who stole his chair when they were 6 or something.

He used to love animals until one day he woke up and the world was more terrifying than he remembered. The comforting bark of a dog is now a horrifying sound that sends him spiraling with panic.

He's overly sensitive to light and sound.

He chews his lip, bites his nails and scratches his arms/wrists when bored or uncomfortable. Maybe that's why he always wears gloves, to do less damage?

Nico:

Sometimes when it's too much they'll go non verbal. They're fluent in sign language as a result.

They sometimes judge the things people name their pets. They'd never say it out loud but they think certain pets have really stupid names.

They struggle with tone, often coming across as sarcastic and fed up when they're being genuine.

If they get postively overwhelmed (like flustered due to compliments etc.) they make cat noises instead of speaking (like meows, chirps, etc.). They find in really embarrassing.

If they are in a downward spiral, they'll grip something (their cloak, hair, a soft toy, etc.) and just hold on to try and ground themselves.

Nico took a couple skirts from the dress-up room to wear in private.

In a non killing game au, they'd join Rose in painting more frequently. They end up preferring watercolours though.

They may have a journal where they might talk shit about certain individuals in the class.

Teruko:

Despite her trust issues and bad luck with relationships, she's a romantic at heart. It may take a while for her to admit her feelings but she'd like someone to give her flowers and take her to dinner just as much as anyone else.

She likes horror films because she can experience the thrill without being in danger. I think she'd also like those rollar coaster simulators since an actual rollar coaster would probably be too dangerous with her luck.

She loves sliced cheese because she can avoid having to cut cheese with a knife. Similarly, she'll spread spreads with a spoon because it's less risking than with a knife.

Due to constantly moving, she owned a couple of those plastic picnic sets (the plate, bowl, cup sets) and had to wash them frequently. As a result she's secretly super grateful to Hu and Eden for cleaning after meals because it's one less thing to worry about.

She had to remind Charles to seperate his dark and light washing a couple times, even after the initial explanation of washing machines.

Levi:

He's on the Asexual spectrum. Like he'd never consider it himself but if his partner wanted to, he'd be comfortable with it because he likes making his partner happy.

He's usually trying to keep the peace but he will argue with friends or customers if they try to pick/buy a god awful outfit.

He worked at a boutique before becoming a personal stylist. He kept giving customers unwanted fashion advice that made their outfits the talk of the town. Word spread and after a little while people started showing up for the advice.

Does not understand humour or sarcasm at all.

He's fond of baby animals but would never hold one out of fear of hurting it.

In a non killing game au, he'd probably find out peoples fashion preferences so he can get them suitable clothes as presents.

He's probably the only cast member to politely listen to Veronika's rambles without wanting to throw up. He'd probably get roped into movie nights after Arturo and Ace triple locked their doors to avoid such movie nights.

Various people have caught him raiding sweet foods (sometimes even just eating sugar straight out the bag) at like 3am on multiple occasions.

[philosophicaldream]

During the Golden Age of Pirates, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo was a terror of the seas. El Diablo, some called him. El Terror, others cried out, when he captured an enemy ship. El Pirata Carriedo, El Pirata Loco de Ojos Verdes.

Loco de avaricia, loco de vicio, loco de poder.

He was drunk on the rush it gave him, to plunder and conquer all in the name of the Spanish crown.

Now he was drunk on a different kind of power, and certainly his favorite vice. For the Mad Pirate Antonio had just stumbled upon a Royal Neapolitan xebec. Its crew had pleaded for mercy, offered up their finest goods, their silks and gold coins from far-flung lands. But that didn’t interest the man who had everything. No, what interested him was the sharp-tongued beauty who attempted to fight him - him, a Master Swordsman and Lord of the Seas - with nothing more than a rapier. The fight, childsplay that it was, had ended as expected, and though the loser had spat on his face and called him a monster, it had made the pirate laugh. A spitfire beauty he was, indeed, with unblemished olive skin, plump kissable lips, a slender frame, and wide angelic hazel eyes.

That was what he would call a true treasure.

And so Antonio claimed the Prince of Naples, Lovino Vargas, for his own personal collection, and for his own pleasure, slinging him over his shoulder despite his protests, fists beating harshly against his back. He carried him back to his own ship (not without burning down the xebec first), made his way down to his cabin, with his crew knowing to look the other way, and threw him on his bed.

He examined his prey - whose wrists were now bound to the bed posts in artfully tight knots so as not to escape - all while the Prince hurled insults at him.

“Bastardo! Vai a cacare!” He spat out when Antonio’s hands brushed against the center of his chest, picking at the gold trimmings that made up the fastenings of his green coat. “What do you think you’re doing, pirata sporco?”

Antonio ignored him, and focused instead on the other parts of the outfit - the waistcoat, the sleeves, the collar - all of which were lined with gold. It complimented the Prince’s body nicely, hugged him in all the right places.

“It’s clearly more than you can afford,” Lovino taunted from above.

He looked up, and saw no fear in his lover’s eyes. Only striking defiance. He played the part of a smug, arrogant royal well. It made him almost want to submit to Lovino on the spot and kiss him senseless. Almost.

He was so confident, so complete in his trust of Antonio, how could he not give his husband what he wanted for his birthday?

“Is that so?” Antonio returned, casually, bringing out one of his knives that he stowed discreetly on his person. Gently, he cupped Lovino’s chin in one hand, and held the knife in the other, close to his collar, in an attempt to intimidate.

Still, Lovino did not falter. “Vai a farti fottere!” He spat out.

El Diablo, as a true rey pirata of the seas, had dabbled in the languages of other nations. He was a master of tells, and could call out even the most serious of men on their bluffs. The Prince could curse all he wanted. But underneath all those angry words and furious eyes, behind all that postering, was a growing fire of lust.

“Go fuck myself?” Antonio laughed. “Mi principito, you are mistaken. The only one I will be fucking is you tonight.” At that, he brought the knife down, slicing through his lavish garments, leaving his chest exposed to the cool salty air that filled the room.

If Antonio thought he looked beautiful before, he looked utterly exquisite with his clothes sliced through. Ravishing… a siren ready to be ravished.

But Antonio pushed the thoughts aside, and got to his feet. He ignored Lovino’s protests - “That jacket was worth more than your boat, jerk!” He ignored that growing warmth between his legs - it had to simply wait for the actual show to start before getting into any real action.

For now, he needed rope.

—-

Spain and Romano are back to role playing their kinks again. My next Spamano focus.