#but I'm so pissed I had to write it this second

[theywantedplayer]

masterslist

prompt list

I edited this 10min before my class so it may be shit but idk. I'm trying to come back to writing but I gotta put other stuff first. I just fine it hard to come up with ideas.

“You're so lucky I said yes to this,” you gritted through your fake smile as you watched the other wedding guests on the dance floor.

“Yeah, because you definitely had better plans,” he smirked, taking a sip of his drink.

You and Jack were at one of his relatives' weddings. For some crazy reason, he asked you to be his date—his fake date—and what’s even crazier is that you said yes to a night of faking whatever he told his family you two were. You only knew Jack through your brother, Nico. You always got annoyed by Jack's cocky hockey-player persona; you could practically feel his ego getting bigger the longer he stared at you, smirking. You knew he was a sweet person, and you'd never heard a bad thing about him. Your brother is an honest person, so you couldn't really figure out the exact reason why you hated his guts.

“What did you even tell your parents anyway?” you asked, still watching people on the floor, while Jack kept looking at you.

Why is he looking at me like that? you kept wondering.

You could see his smirk growing stronger before he spoke. “That we’re helplessly in love, that we can't breathe without each other,” he teased, leaning a little closer as he sat beside you.

You scoffed when you heard his dumb words, turning your head to him, a small smile on your lips at his shameless demeanor.

“You’re kidding.”

“What do you mean kidding? It’s true, I'm hopelessly in love,” he shrugged.

But it didn’t seem so careless. There was a weight on his shoulders as he shrugged them. For a moment, when you both stared at each other, the air got thick, and the things around you seemed to slow—but only for a moment. Your heart skipped a beat when he said that to you. He never once broke eye contact, even when he sipped his drink.

God, snap out of it, Y/N, you thought.

And you did. “Whatever, Jack,” you said, shaking your head, resting your chin on your palm as you went back to watching the dancers. But you never felt Jack’s eyes leave you. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you felt his gaze lingering—on your body, your face, your skin, anything. It annoyed you. You already felt like you had enough eyes on you at this damn wedding. Not knowing anyone here and being Jack’s “date” just made more people stare, wondering who you were.

You were about to tell him to fuck off as you turned your head to look at him with an annoyed face.

“Can you no—”

“Wanna dance?” he asked, cutting you off.

Your mouth stayed open for a moment. He took that as a yes for some reason, getting up and holding out his hand for you to grab—not leaving room for a no. But you knew you wouldn’t say no. You just didn’t know how to say yes. So you grabbed his hand and let him lead you to the dance floor.

The music was soft and gentle as the other guests danced, most likely with their lovers, making you more nervous about dancing. Once you both found a spot, Jack’s hands found your waist like it was second nature. You slowly wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, lacing them together.

You suddenly became fully aware of how close you were to him. Your head followed your gaze, which was anywhere but on the man in front of you. Jack never looked away from you. He couldn't if he wanted to. He’d been a witness to your snarky and sassy comebacks to him over the years—your trucker-like swearing—and then the stories Nico told him about you. Your brother's exact words were: “If you wanna live to see tomorrow, don’t piss her off.” When Jack first heard that, he had to piss you off. That’s like telling someone not to push the big red button. And oh, did Jack push your buttons. But yet, he always lived to see tomorrow.

But now, he was looking at a girl who was too nervous to even look at him.

He loved it.

He loved how you sounded when you watched hockey games. He would never admit it to you, but he even started to use some of the chirps he heard you yell at the TV when he went over to Nico’s.

“I'm over here, you know,” he laughed slightly, looking into your eyes, which were focused on someone else.

He didn’t look. Why would he want to look at anything else?

“No shit, I’m dancing with you,” you sassed back.

“Well, it's rude to not look at the person you're talking to.”

“You're talking to me,” you threw back.

There was a small scowl on your face, but you both knew it was harmless. He had you figured out, and you hated it.

…Right?

Jack laughed at your comeback and squeezed your waist softly, pulling you closer to him.

“Y/N, come on, don’t do that,” he said.

You sighed and turned your head to look at him. You couldn't even describe how you felt when you made contact with him. It was a burning feeling in your chest… or was it stinging? You couldn't put your finger on it. It was accompanied by those stupid butterflies in your stomach. You tried to force down your small smile, but Jack already noticed it and doubled it with his own.

Fuck, you thought.

Jack could see the glare that was once on your face disappear into your beautiful features—the face he couldn't look away from all night.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” he asked as you both swayed to the music, the warm lighting covering you both, his brown hair seeming lighter as if it were summer.

You smiled shyly, wanting the blush that crept across your face to disappear into thin air. “Yes, Jack, you’ve said it many times tonight,” you nodded, laughing slightly.

“Okay, okay, just making sure I covered all my bases for the night,” he joked, nodding his head repeatedly.

“Your ass had a checklist?” you asked.

“Yes, my ass does,” he answered as if you should have known that. “I only have one more thing on my list.”

“Ooooo, and what’s that?”

You felt him squeeze your waist again as you asked, as if he was trying to tell you without actually having to say it. But how were you supposed to read this guy’s mind?

He just shrugged and didn't answer as you both kept dancing. Once the song ended, most people were off the dance floor, so you assumed you both were done and started to pull your arms away. But Jack didn’t let you go.

“One more song?” he asked, looking at you, his hands never leaving you for a second.

“Okay, one more song,” you responded, and your hands laced around his neck once again.

You both fell into a quiet dance, Jack’s thumbs tracing circles on your waist.

“You know, I meant what I said before,” he told you, his eyes piercing into yours.

“What, that you can take a glass off the champagne tower without it falling? Jack, I already told you, you can't. That shit’s gonna come crashing down, and when it does, you owe me 100 bucks,” you laughed, gesturing to the tower.

He shook his head, laughing. “No, no, not that. But I still believe I can do it. It’s one glass—how hard could it be?”

“It takes so much skill and balance to even build it. Taking one, just one,” you told him, “can mess up the whole thing.”

“Okay, okay, enough about the stuffed tower. That’s not what I was talking about.”

You both laughed. You found it funny how sure he was that he could do it.

“Okay, then what were you talking about?” you smiled, cocking your head to the side, looking at him.

God, Jack could feel his heart beating out of his chest like he was about to play the game of his life. But to him, this was bigger. He took a deep breath before he spoke.

“About me being hopelessly in love,” he said softly.

He didn’t know it, but your heart was also beating out of your chest as he said those words. But you didn’t want to jump too far and assume it was towards you. Your mouth was glued shut as you looked at him with hopeful eyes, so he continued.

“I am hopelessly in love,” he restated. He took a deep breath before he continued. “With you… I’m hopelessly in love with you. I have been for a long time, a damn long time.” He chuckled slightly after hearing his own words, shocked that he was actually saying them to you.

You softly laughed too, looking away from him for a moment, and you could’ve sworn you saw Jack’s smile falter as you did, making you look right back at him.

“So I am here as your date? Like, your date-date?” you said.

“If you want to be. I mean, you were the whole time in my head,” he admitted, making you laugh again.

“Yeah, and your family thinks so too,” you responded.

“I never actually told them you were my date-date,” he said, his eyes big, waiting for your response.

“What?” you laughed. “You told me I had to act like your date so your family would believe you had a girlfriend!” You were the most shocked. All night, you were pretending to be Jack’s girlfriend because you had to, but you loved it. And now that Jack was telling you what he was doing for you, that what he was saying to you all night was true, it felt like a dream.

“It was the first thing on the checklist, okay!” he said like that would make it make sense.

“You’re fucking crazy.” You shook your head, smiling at this so-called checklist.

“100% it’s crazy,” he admitted, smiling, but he quickly turned serious. “It’s true though. I’m hopelessly in love with you, and I…” He took a deep breath. “I wanted to tell you. You don’t have to feel pressured to say anything. And now that I think back, this fucking checklist is insane, but it helps—Luke helped me with it—”

You smiled as he rambled on and on, but as soon as he started to talk about how maybe you didn’t feel the same, you felt like you had to prove it to him. You tried to talk, but he kept going, wrapped in his own whirlwind of rambling.

You counted to three in your head before you pulled him into a kiss by the nape of his neck.

You kissed him and noticed how he didn’t kiss you back right away. Until you went to pull away—he realized what was happening. He pulled you even closer, crashing his lips against yours. You knew Jack was a ladies’ man and hoped he had the skills of one. And when his hands caressed your lower back, pushing you against him, you knew he did.

When you both pulled away, his hair was a mess on the sides, and his eyes were filled with something that made your knees want to buckle.

“Does that answer your question?” you smiled teasingly, fixing his hair.

Jack shook his head, smiling, his hands roaming your waist and lower back. “I don’t know… I think I might have to double-check,” he flirted, glancing at your lips.

“Okay, okay, big guy,” you laughed. “We’re surrounded by your family and friends. I don’t think they want to see you mack on me,” you said, lightly slapping his chest.

“So you wanna take this somewhere else?” he smirked, cocking a brow.

It was gonna be an interesting night.

[rekino2114]

Stella Hoshinari and Emma Magorobi fighting over who you love more, but you love both equally

Emma magorobi and stella hoshinari fighting over you

Pairing:Emma magorobi x gn reader x stella hoshinari

A/n:This was requested way before the prompts, but it gave me the idea for the 17th prompt on my list, so thanks. This is also my first dangan/fangan crossover post, and I'd like to do more (maybe something with chiaki and Cassidy or kirumi and akane) so let me know if you want to see more. Also, please request more of this I genuinely loved writing this so much

You'd never thought you'd attract the attention of a girl, much less two, much less two incredibly rich and famous Hollywood actresses that just so happened to go to the same school as you but life has its surprises

It all started simple enough. Both Emma and stella started to hang out with you. Sometimes, one of them would eat lunch in the cafeteria with you, and the other walked with you after school, you became good friends with the both of them.

Little did you know that they both were actually crushing on you super hard and were testing the water before starting to actually flirt with you, those compliments that you interpreted as them just being nice were actually the first signs of those crushes.

Eventually, they were ready to finally ask you out and had the same idea. They were going to invite you on the set of one of their movies

Stella was about to approach you to ask but saw you were already talking with Emma, so she raised her sunglasses and got closer

"It's gonna be great so what do you-"

"Oh pardon I wanted to talk with y/n"

"......well I already am so......"

"Wait a second I know you, aren't you that other actress from the other class?"

"The ULTIMATE actress, Emma magorobi pleasure to meet you"

"Oh well that's a coincidence, I'm the ultimate actress too, stella hoshinari, it's nice to meet you too"

"Really? I wasn't aware of another actress attending Hope's peak, you must have been in some pretty niche movies if I haven't heard of you"

[Even if she didn't show it, still keeping her smile on her face, stella was really pissed off by Emma's passive-aggressive remarks]

"Oh I wouldn't say so, but anyway I'm here to ask y/n something, so if you wouldn't mind moving"

"I wanted to ask them something too, if they wanted to come to the new set of a movie I'm in"

"Wow really? Me too"

"......I.....see, well I'm sure y/n would much rather come with me than see whatever second rate movie you're in"

"I disagree. In fact, I think they'd like mine way more"

"Then let's do a little bet, we both bring them on a date and whichever girl they like best gets to keep them"

"I like that, after all, a bit of competition in this industry never hurts"

[They shook each other's hands while you stood there confused]

"..........wait that was a date?"

During the movie date, both actresses tried their best to show you how great and attractive they were. both wearing very revealing clothes and showing off their assets at every occasion

They also made sure to show you how much better they were than the other, making comments about how "emma/stella could never, she's just way too confident in herself if she thinks she can bag a cutie like you~"

After the dates, you told them you needed more time to think about which one you liked more. They actually took that pretty well and gave you time to think

The actual reason that they took it so well was because they understood it just gave them more time to court you, a thing which became apparent when the following day you opened your doorstep to see a pile of roses with a note signed "Emma magorobi" with a stain of lipstick

And also when the next day you received a box of very expensive chocolates with a note this time signed "stella hoshinari" with a similar lipstick mark

And it was with this that the second phase of their fight for you started, absolutely spoiling you rotten with gifts

Both of them were rich and had absolutely no problem spending all of their money if it meant to get with you and beat her competitor

They brought you everything you could think and more, flowers, sweets, videogames, clothes, and way way more, they subtly asked your friends for what you wanted and the next day it suddenly appeared on your front door

One time you brought them to a store in hopes of getting them to hang out and maybe become friends.....it didn't help

"Hey y/n, do you like this shirt? I've seen it and I think it will look adorable on you"

"Not as adorable as these pants I picked out"

"Oh, I suppose they do look cute. You don't mind if I buy them too, right? After all, I doubt you can afford them"

"I can indeed, in fact I think I'll buy these pants and that shirt too for y/n"

"Well then I'll just have to buy this entire section, y/n does need spare after all"

"W-well than I'll buy the entire store!"

"........And I'll buy th-"

"...girls please stop"

While all of this was happening, you were thinking about them too, and which one you liked more. They were both incredibly beautiful and equally rich it seemed but not only that

You noticed how.....nice they both were, not only to you but also to the staff or just random people they met, they never declined autographs or selfies when they were recognized and thanked their fans with such sincerity in their voices, they were so sweet and kind, like the opposite of those stereotypical celebrities, and you couldn't deny that that was probably what made you love them equally

And one day you finally told them just that

"I'm sorry but I can’t choose between you two, you're both so beautiful and nice, I love both of you equally, I know it's dumb and so feel free to just leave me alone, I'd much rather stay alone than break the heart of one of you"

[They both started thinking for a while before Emma spoke]

"I understand so you like both of us equally?"

"Yeah"

"Well then the solution is simple, just date both of us"

"W-what!?"

"Oh I......never thought of that, that's actually a good idea"

"R-really? Like.....you'd be sharing me?"

"Yeah, since you love both of us the same, it shouldn't be a problem"

"B-but are you OK with that?"

"I suggested it so why wouldn't I?"

"As long as I get to stay with my darling I don't mind, plus getting to know Emma more will be nice, you can tell me all those tricks for the make-up"

"Oh I'd love to as long as you tell me where you found that super cute top"

".......I tried to make you friends this whole time and now you're doing that?"

"Well I guess competition gets the best of a girl sometimes"

"Yeah, but don't worry now that I know you love me just as much as stella i'm totally fine with her........just don't think I'm going to let you hog y/n all to yourself"

"Of course, the same goes for me"

"........wait a second so now I'm dating two girls......no wait....two incredibly hot and rich and famous and nice actresses.....AT THE SAME TIME"

"Oh is that what you think of us?"

"Darling, we're flattered, and you are absolutely right. You are dating both of us, so you'll get double the love"

"And the gifts and the kisses"

"Oh yeah speaking of"

[They both got closer and kissed both of your cheeks]

"I was planning on going to a cute Cafe tomorrow, wanna come too Emma?"

"As long as y/n is there absolutely"

"Then it's settled, see you tomorrow cutie~"

[They walked away as you stood there still in complete disbelief of what happened]

When they confirmed their relationship during an interview the news went absolutely wild that a random person was dating both of the ultimate actresses

[simp-ly-writes]

House of Talis

─────── �� · How Could You Refuse? (pt.13)

Pairing: Jayce Talis x Shy!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: With a miniature Talis on the way, you grow weary of how your husband will react.

─ · · TAGS: epilogue kinda, fem!reader, pregnancy and labour (non-descriptive), overprotectiveness, second-person perspective, depictions of panic/anxiety, happy ending, domestic fluff, married life.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 4,036

─ · · SERIES MASTERLIST

─ · · A/N: hope you enjoy, this is the finale!

─────── · ·

─ · · After the two weeks of Jayce... putting you 'out of commission' so to speak. You were embarrassed to say just how foggy your mind and sore your body felt going back into the everyday swing of things; going to the lab, helping graduate students with their studies at the academy, and writing thank you letters to the wedding gifts you received from foreign diplomats... your brain was fried before the clock had even hit noon and you hadn't even started on editing your book to be published by the end of the year.

─ · · You felt disorientated, the stark pick-up of life again after feeling like you were floating of bliss from days of end to powering on your mind to think critically and converse with the public had you feeling increasingly overwhelmed as the hours ticked by and days progressed. You woke up happy- sure a little woozy but feeling fine, by mid-morning you were stressed, afternoon?- sad and longing to see Jayce and before you knew it evening hit and you were getting pissed off at Evren.

─ · · Evren had decided to stay and had gotten a job at the Academy. He loved riling you up about your's and Jayce's vacation period- watching as your cheeks warmed and the way you shuffled on your feet before trying to change conversation. Evren also had started a committed relationship with Jayce's ex-secretary that served as perfect rebuttal for all of his questions.

─ · · It was finally Friday, you had survived your first week back by a hair and were anxious to leave the Academy on time to be home ahead of Jayce- a handful of letters and your best friend the only barriers from leaving.

"Evren! I'm trying to work and you keep distracting me," you whine, rubbing your hands across your tired face, "can you talk to me in an hour? I just have to get these letters in before the office closes."

Evren stares at you for a long while, leaning back in his chair across from your desk with a small smile appearing on his face, his foot bouncing on his knee as he looks out the window contemplative. You look up, seeing that he hadn't left yet with a sigh, now looking at you with a mixture of joy and... concern? "What?" you ask, yourwince again at how sharp your tone appears as you apologize softly before double checking your writing.

"Do you feel... different?" Evren asks quietly, leaning forwards slightly to make the conversation feel smaller, you slowly tare your gaze back up while sealing the envelope, "different? well yes, I just came back from vacation, Ev," you explain with a chuckle before standing up quickly to grab your coat once seeing the time.

You stumble slightly forwards as Evren rushes to a stand and level yourself, "woah there short stuff, I'm really worried, I think you-"

"I'm feeling fine, Evren. Just need some more sleep and I should be good as new," you cut him off and explain, shrugging off his touch and shrugging on your coat before opening the door and signalling your friend out of the laboratory to lock for the day.

Evren stands still within the space, shaking his head and pulls you back in, shutting the door once hearing footsteps down the hall. He keeps his hands gripping your shoulders, unknowing to how you'll react to his next works. You watch as his glasses slip down his nose, exploring his stressed face fully. "Ev?" you call out, blinking and taking in his rigid stance, "everything alright?"

"I'm fine its just..." Evren sighs, choosing his next words with extreme caution, "...fuck it I'm just going to say it. Are you pregnant?" You blink once... twice... then thrice at his words. At first you are appalled, opening your mouth for what you thought to be a poor off-hand comment before quickly shutting your mouth as panic sets in and you analyze your recent week...

Nausea, mood-swings, fatigue, and tender muscles... fuck. Evren watches as a dozen emotions cross over your face before you feel him pulling you into a firm hug as your body starts to shake. "Ev?" you ask in a timid tone, gripping his back tightly- almost certainly ruining his knit sweater.

"Ev I," you choke up on your words, blink profusely as Even stands there holding you and rubs your back gently. "Hey, I'm here with you in the lab and you're picking apart my girlfriends least favourite sweater I own- she'll thank you for that." You barely process a laugh before choking back a sob, pressing your head into his chest.

"What tears are those?" Evren asks gently, "I just need to know if I have to get out my old kickboxing equipment or not." That comment has you coming back to the surface as you shake your head. "No, Jayce and I have wanted to start a family," you pull away looking down at your shoes, "I think I'm happy but I'm also just... scared- I just. I've never been through something like this..." you bite your lip, furrowing your brow before opening your eyes wide to meet Evren's curious gaze, " shit how far along am I? I should go see my doctor..."

Evren's nods, "yes, that would be a very good idea... should I let Jayce or someone of Jayce's office know?" You pause, thinking for a moment, "...no, I want to do that once I know for sure." Evren nods before extending his arm for you to take, you grip his arm like a lifeline, locking the door- feeling a cool wisp of air follow you out, thank you for the support, Viktor, I really need it now more than ever.

─────── · ·

─ · · Jayce could feel every mark you left across his back and neck, groaning every time he move from a sitting to standing position in between meetings. Mel tried not to laugh seeing her fellow councillor wince at someone slapping his shoulder in thanks a bit too hard (while it was done lightly) or how poorly his collar covered the bites across his neck- doing his best to remain professional and keep conversations surrounding the city not his personal life to the many curious stares.

─ · · His eyes are heavy, hair dishevelled by how many times he's wrung his fingers through it as he sits behind his desk meeting with tradesman after officer, hearing out how the city was developing.

─ · · When Jayce gets wind of you at the clinic, his heart dropped, hands gripping the wood of his desk and shoulders tense as he stood up slowly and rigid. Sudden images of you in that Piltover of despair, the smell of blood and the sight of a thousand corpses had him breathing in sharply through his nose before he was rushing to get his coat and sprinting down the cobbled streets. Please be okay, please be okay, fuck, please, Jayce prayed, taking a sharp right turn and nearly bumping into someone.

─────── · ·

─ · · Your feet swung back and forth off the table, your hand gripped Evren's tightly as you waited not so patiently for the results. You both looked towards the door, hearing a commotion from outside, rushed footsteps, heavy breathing and a sharp tone. "No. I must- my wife-"

"Councillor Talis. You must understand that-"

"What do I fail to understand? She came to a doctor suddenly without prior appointment and was seen nearly in tears by some of her students- please, at least let me see her if I can't speak with her- or let her know I'm here for her-" You bite your lip, seeing Jayce's tall outline from behind the curtained windows before looking towards Evren nervously seeing as his jaw is tense, shoulders rigid, "How'd he know so quickly?" Evren mumbles to himself, "Thought we were better at this hiding thing," he jokes.

That gets you to laugh as you loosen your grip on his hand, immediately the voices stop from outside. Jayce closes his eyes at the sound, relief flooding through his mind, you were alive, you were laughing, yet his hands still shook, needing to see you, to hold you, to physically know you were alright.

Jayce stays firm in his position as a nurse grips his arms, urging him back to the visitors gallery yet the Councillor watches as a doctor walks down the hall and towards the room he believes you to be in, two nurses follow behind, clipboards and bags tightly pressed against their chest as Jayce's heart leaps out of his own.

He see's a flash of your hair before the door is closed swiftly behind the group of medical professionals. Jayce takes a step forwards, another nurse grips his other arm, they shake their heads, "Mrs. Talis has not requested for you... yet. Please respect the lady's decision."

Jayce grits his teeth before nodding and following them back, not before looking and trying to stare through the door, eyes begging to catch another glimpse... instead Jayce glares at the white tiled floors, ears filled with white noise as he bounces his knee anxiously. Head jumping to every sudden sound he can hear down the hall.

Jayce's heart hurts as much as his brain, trying to figure out why didn't you immediately call for me?

─────── · ·

─ · · "Mrs. Talis," the doctor bends down in front of you face stoic yet eyes gleaming with happiness that she tries and hides. "Yes?" you respond, leaning forwards, a subconscious hand moving towards your stomach in wait. "Congratulations, you are expecting," she announces.

─ · · You stare at her for a moment before your shaky hands grasp the paper results, pressing them against your chest, feeling your rapid heartbeat. Evren stands off to the side, giving you space to feel out the moment. Your eyes look up at his, shining with tears as you let out a chuckle in disbelief, "I'm pregnant," you state softly and slowly to yourself, "I'm pregnant!" you say with much more confidence, "oh god, I'm pregnant," you tell yourself.

Evren laughs unsurprised that you and Jayce were having kids so shortly after your wedding, "you have no idea how much money you just made me, thank you and congrats!" Evren grasps your shoulder pulling you in for a hug. You shake your head at your friend. "I don't even know what to do-I-"

"Shush you. You have me, Jayce's mom, Jayce- who I'm sure is going to be a mother hen and is loosing his mind over you again..." Evren trails off patting your back as you pull away," I guess I should tell Jayce now?" you question.

The doctors, nurses, and Evren all look at you, slowly nodding, "I think thats a good idea, ma'am."

─────── · ·

─ · · You don't look to see the door open, the room is dead silent as you stare at your shoes, head lowered. Jayce curses, footsteps rushed as he kneels in front on you, hands resting on your knees, chin lowering to your lap, "sweetheart?" he calls out so softly you felt yourself falling for him again.

You hear as Evren gags in the corner, picking up your head a slight bit to catch the glare Jayce throws back, biting the inside of your cheek to contain a laugh. Jayce thinks you to be crying by the way your shoulders jitter, hands racing to hold your waist as he kisses the top of your head. "I'm here, always. Tell me what I can do- or I can listen, whatever you need," Jayce holds you so delicately, not wanting to overwhelm you but not being able to stop his need to ground himself to you physically.

You don't answer right away, instead peeling his hands away from yourself as you observe his eyes that stare widely into your own, confused, worried.... scared as you drop your touch, his hands shaking down by his sides.

Evren clears his throat, "She's not divorcing you man, stop thinking that." Jayce looks to you, shoulders slumped, eyes begging like a puppy kept out in the rain. The word alone sends him into a stressed state as he begins pacing around the room, gripping at his tie and shirt that feels too tight all the sudden, "No, please- I. I'll do better I promise I- you don't have to leave," Jayce begs.

"Jayce, I'm not divorcing you," you cut off your husband, standing slowly and walking over, pressing your head against his back, looping your fingers through his belt loops and glaring at Evren, look what you did. Evren simply raises his hands, backing out of the room and closing the door.

Jayce lets out a breath, placing his hands atop yours. You squeeze your eyes shut, pressing yourself tightly against him, "I'm pregnant, Jayce. You're going to be a father."

Jayce blinks slowly, breath hitching as he stills in your hold, me... a father... wife... pregnant... "Jayce?" you call out, panic settling into your bones again at the sudden thought of having to do this all alone.

Jayce spins around in your hold, picking you up quickly, peppering your face with kisses as you laugh, "my wife, my gorgeous wife pregnant with my baby." Jayce thinks he couldn't be happier, does not know the words to formulate how perfect his life feels right now.

You nods your head at his words as he gently sets you down on the table, hands cupping your stomach, "I'm mad at you though Jayce."

"What? Why?" Jayce asks without a care in the world, brain not registering your words- still trying to fathom that his every wish, every dream had come true in this room. He blinks away tears of happiness, smile spreading across his cheeks- unable to be ripped from his features. "Im. mad. at. you. Jayce," you slowly articulate, "we agreed to have one later and you knocked me up!"

Jayce merely shrugs, willing nothing to break his happiness as he kisses you deeply, "It's my fault-hm? All my fault..." Jayce kisses you slowly, you can feel his smile on your skin and the rumble on his chest against your palm as he laughs, nipping your ear gently, "... on how you got on your knees for me underneath the dining table, pawed at my lap pleading or woke me up begging for me to fuck you? How about all those times you locked your ankles around my waist and squeezed hard enough to-"

"OKAY!~" you sing, shoving a palm over his mouth, flushed. Jayce just steps back admiring you. "What?" you ask back seeing as Jayce continues to stare.

"I'm just so thankful for you and all the happiness you've allowed me to have." A suddenly you start crying uncontrollably, Jayce curses rushing over, "fuck, shit, uh I'm sorry, didn't mean to make you cry- I'm such an idiot, I know."

─────── · ·

─ · · Jayce had gone full-blown overprotective and it was getting on your nerves how little he allowed you to do. He called his mother to move in with you both and to watch over your take care of you! You loved talking and spending time with Ximena but she was just as bad if not worse than Jayce.

"No! You're stressing too much by working, just relax my dear, let's take a short walk around the garden." Or, "you shouldn't be bending down to fetch the laundry, please allow me."

─ · · Their care was endearing as it came from a place of love but it was also mind-numbing not being able to leave the house on your own for an errand no matter how quick and short distance it was. You also were frustrated about not being able to go back to the lab or your office during the day as Evren would somehow always catch you and send you back home with a smirk, "don't worry! Once that kid is born you and Jayce will be fighting over who gets to stay home~" you glare at his cheery-tone as he walks you back to your front door and into an awaiting Ximena who taps her foot in wait.

─ · · As soon as Jayce comes home, Ximena allows you to rush up to him and throw practically yourself into his arms, "Jay, I'm so bored please let me do more than drink tea and water plants all day. I'm sure I'd be fine taking one trip by myself to the market or hosting an office session-"

And like every other conversation you had on the matter, his answer never changed, "No, I just don't want you over-working yourself. If you want we can go out together later." (and you struggled to throw your shoes at his face, with love of course).

─────── · ·

─ · · When you feel your water break, the entire household has exploded into panic. Ximena who had been so worried and cautious over you had you feeling whiplash from how quickly she changed to cool and assertive as she held your hand and wiped the sweat from your forehead with a cool-cloth while waiting for transit to the hospital.

─ · · Evren was blowing up your phone and when you arrived at the hospital was walking alongside you throwing question after question, hands running through his hair, glasses askew, "are you thirsty?" "how are your contractions?" "you'll tell me if you feel off, alright?" "what do you-"

Ximena precedes to slap his arm and if that did not work, splashes a cup of water on his face to shock him out of his panic. Evren finally sits in a corner of the room, staring off into the distance to maintain his breathing. You take one look at your mother-in-law who only shakes her head, "the men always act like its them giving birth," and you laugh, hard.

─ · · Jayce practically rips the door off its hinges to get into the room quick enough and slides to your side, kissing your forehead and brushing the hair away from your eyes. "I'm here, never gonna leave you, not again," you nod, smiling at his words before gripping his hand tightly.

Jayce grits his teeth knowing that in these moments, he could not make one comment about the pain. Ximena smiles, nodding to her son approvingly as he places his other hand atop your connected ones.

─────── · ·

─ · · "ONCE THIS KID IS OUT JAYCE, I"M GOING TO KILL YOU," you scream at Jayce part way through. He just nods his head in agreement feeling utter guilt for being the reason you are in such pain, "yup, I know, I know, I'll dig the grave and everything before hand."

"You better," you grip his hand even tighter if that was possible and Jayce debates if he'll even have his left hand by the of it.

─────── · ·

─ · · Your first child would be a girl and a few years later you both would have a middle-child boy and a few years after that, a youngest girl.

─ · · There was never a boring nor quiet morning in the House of Talis as all the children had taken after your's and Jayce's tinkering and science interests. It would be considered a more quiet day if only one part of the house caught on fire. On that note, many people did not want to babysit for your children.... even your closest of friends as the kids only wanted to listen to their mom and dad.

─ · · Evren had lost his eyebrows in under two hours after your son had prototyped a flame thrower using scrap parts in Jayce's workshop in the backyard.

─ · · Vi and Caitlyn both ended up in emergency care after trying to play a game with the children that became overly-competitive, your kids coming unscratched and victorious as they showed the nurses the trophy they crafted from stick and rocks.

─ · · Ximena almost had a heart attack in watching the kids take turns in their make-shift sleds made from blankets and pillows down the stairs and nearly crashing into the front door if Jayce didn't step through the threshold a moment earlier to catch them.

─ · · But in perfect opposition, when you and Jayce would take your kids into your respective workplaces they acted as angels. Listening, silently observing what you both were working on and asking questions to learn more. (Evren was weirded out beyond belief once observing this quote 'phenomenon' and was mildly offended that you barley had to do anything and they just listened to you).

─────── · ·

─ · · Once your kids came of age, Jayce would step down from the council so that your eldest could pick up the metaphorical torch and continue your houses name. You would also step down from your position within the academy and become an occasional spokesperson/seasonal lecturer.

─ · · In this newfound spare time you had together, you and Jayce went back to your roots, spending all your time in the backyard workshop working on all the projects you left unfinished decades ago.

─ · · It was peaceful, a record playing in the background, window slightly open and desks right beside one another as you leaned your head on your husbands shoulder while reading through your notes. Jayce was breaking down a trinket at his desk, humming softly with the melody of the song.

─ · · So lost in your thoughts you didn't realize Jayce had finished with his work as he looked down at you, observing the crease in your brow. "Everything alright, sweetheart?"

You blink, forgetting what you were even staring at as pick your head off his shoulder, "I'm fine... just thinking," you shrug, standing up to stretch before feeling Jayce's hands wrap around your waist pulling you into his lap. His chin rests on your shoulder, beard scratching the exposed skin of your neck, "what were you thinking about?- you looked serious," he chuckles, you call feel the reverberations against your back.

"Just thinking about how old you are now," you tease, fighting off a grin as you turn in his lap to catch his offended gasp. "I'm not much older than you," Jayce childishly retorts, squeezing your hip, "but seriously, whats wrong?"

You pause, smile dropping, "I just wonder how different life would have been if I had chosen different things." You feel Jayce tense, his hold loosening on you.

"Oh," his tone distant, "...do you regret anything... do you regret this?" his voice barley a whisper. You lean back, pressing a kiss against his jaw as you smile at all the silver hairs mixed in his beard.

"Never," you speak honestly, "....just maybe not meeting you sooner." Jayce wraps his arms around your front, holding you close.

"I regret that too then," Jayce exaggerates a pout. You roll your eyes, "I was being genuine!"

"I was too," he retorts, patting your thigh in a silent as for you to stand. You comply, extending your hand to help him up that he takes and holds as you both walk back to the house yet Jayce freezes half way causing you to pause, turning to face him already seeing as he looks down at you.

Eyes a mixture adoration and something you can't pinpoint just yet, "Jay?" you call out, searching his face for clues only to receive no answer as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

"Thank you for staying with me... I..." he pauses, stumbling on his words, "...I wouldn't know myself now... wouldn't be here now if it weren't for you."

You smile reaching up to pull his face forward and press a kiss to his cheek, "thank you too, Mr. Talis." Your heart races seeing the recognition flood his eyes, "now how does some coffee sound?"

"Sounds perfect, Mrs. Talis."

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: thank you to all those who decided to stick with this story, it was the best of time... it was the worst of times (lol). But I hope you all enjoyed nonetheless!

─ · · JAYCE TALIS TAGLIST: @sseleniaa @sunshiines-stuff @kiromiix @todorokishoe24 @w2momo @m-arj-1 @reid490 @kaminocasey @chickenlvr123 @peachhiz @hellokittyluvr69420 @mommymilkers0526 @whatislifebutlemons

[into-the-hellaverse]

Lucifer and Adam's Good Day

Final part of the Bad Day series!

Before we get to the fic, I wanna thank lilacwriter07, hellojenpenworld, inubaki, and libby-for-life (not tagged cause idk how y'all feel about being tagged in random fics). Libby started this with a commission and Lilac, jenpen, and inubaki kinda kept spurring it on with their kind words and encouragement. Y'all shouldn't have done that XD If you do that, you get a happy giddy mess that's lowkey over the top and filled with typos.

But still, thanks to you guys I did something I never thought I could do. Finish writing something. I always wanted to write a fic series, and it's my dream to be a published author, but I never actually got myself to sit down and write long enough to actually complete something. So, thank you. You guys are some of the kindest people I've met.

Sorry to get sentimental on y'all. Now, let's give Adam and Luci a happy ending :)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lucifer took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He practiced everything on the way over here. What to say, how to act, and he even scouted out a quiet place for him and Adam to go. He just had to execute this. Perfectly.

He took a deep breath and walked up the small staircase to the mansion's entrance, giving a few quick, sharp knocks.

"ADAM! GET OFF YOU LAZY ASS AND ANSWER THE DOOR!" Mammon's voice carried really well. There was some running around and Adam opened the front door.

"Hi..." Adam whispered, smiling softly. "I started losing hope..."

"I'm sorry, it took a little longer than expected..." Lucifer said softly, cupping Adam's cheek. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm great, now that you're here..."

Lucifer smiled, quickly dropping it once he noticed the scarf wrapped tightly around Adam's neck. "What happened?"

"I'd...rather not talk about it..."

Lucifer nodded softly.

"WHO THE FUCK IS THERE?!"

Adam pushed his hand away and turned into the house. "ITS LUCIFER!"

"WHO?!"

"LUCIFER!"

"WHO?!"

"IT'S THE KING OF HELL! GET OVER HERE!"

Lucifer had never seen Mammon move that fast. He was at the front door in a matter of seconds, a scowl on his face. "The fuck you want, you walking asshole?"

Now to put the plan in action. He gave a big, nervous smile and sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Yeah, so I had to have a meeting with Sera, and she found out that Adam isn't up in Pride anymore. And, you know Sera. She through a bitch fit and demanded Adam gets put back where he belongs."

"He's not going back with you," Mammon growled.

Lucifer held up his hands defensively. "I know! Believe me, I don't want him in my Ring! But if he's not there, then Sera might wreck havoc and..." Crap what was he gonna say?! He practiced this 20 times! "Destroy all of Hell..." That wasn't what he was supposed to say.

Mammon raised a brow. "Seriously?"

"Yes." Now he had to commit. "I mean, you know Sera. Takes the smallest thing and blows them out of proportion."

Mammon sighed and rolled his eyes. "Bitch still hasn't changed a bit, huh?"

Yes, he bought it! "Sadly, no. So, I just need to take Adam for a month or two back to my Ring. Once Sera calms down, I'll talk to her and make her realize that it's better if he's down her with you. Sound good?"

Mammon sighed. He was obviously pissed off and hesitant. "Just a couple of months?"

"And he'll be all yours," Lucifer said with a smile. "Forever and ever..."

Mammon rolled his eyes. "You better fix it. Quick." He turned to Adam. "Go get your shit. You're going to stay with Lucifer for a while." He shut the door in Lucifer's face.

Lucifer let out a hefty sigh, feeling his heartbeat slow down as panic subsided. Thank God, he bought it...

Adam left a few minutes later, slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder and gripping his guitar case with a death grip. He raced down the steps and Lucifer ran after him, trying to keep his pace as they left the mansion grounds.

"I thought you said I wouldn't have to go back," Adam said softly.

"You won't. Follow me." Lucifer walked the dirty streets of Greed, holding Adam's hand and leading him along until he found a quiet alley way. He led him deep, until they couldn't see the road.

"What are we doing down here?" Adam asked nervously.

"We just need some privacy." Lucifer let go of his hand and pulled something out of his jacket pocket.

Adam stared at him, shocked and confused. "Is that..."

"A Luciferian crystal." He paused, watching Adam intensely. "I know what you're thinking, but I'm not gonna take this from you. This is yours to keep, Adam. I just need to show you how to use it, then it's all yours. I won't take it back. I promise."

Adam nodded. Although from the look on his face, you could tell he didn't believe him.

Lucifer put it on. "It's really simple, actually." He turned around and held up the crystal, looking back to make sure Adam was watching. "All you have to do is think about where you want to go and draw a pentagram." He used the tip of his nail to draw a pentagram on the flat surface of the crystal, watching the bight red lines etching their way into the crystal. When he finished, a portal opened up to Gluttony, right outside Bee's mansion.

"That's Gluttony," Lucifer explained as Adam stared in awe. "Bee has really good parties."

Adam didn't say anything.

Lucifer started getting uncomfortable. "If you want to get rid of the portal, all you gotta do is wipe it away." He made sure Adam was watching and he wiped the pentagram off the crystal, and the portal closed in the blink of an eye. "And that's just how it is. Think of where you wanna go, draw the pentagram, and wipe it away once you pass through." He took off the crystal and held it out to Adam, but he didn't grab it.

"Adam..." Lucifer gently took his hand and placed the crystal in it. "I'm not going to take it from you. I genuinely want you to have this."

"Why?" Adam asked, looking confused.

"Because after everything I did, after everything I said to you... This is the least I can do..."

Adam still seemed nervous and hesitant, but he gave him a smile.

Lucifer smiled back gently. "Can I show you one more thing?"

"Sure..."

"I was able to set up a spawn point or homing beacon of sorts on the crystal." Lucifer gently opened his hand, showing the flat surface of the crystal. "If you're ever running around the Rings and you need a place you know is safe, just think about home and draw the pentagram." He drew it for Adam and watched a portal open up into a red room.

Adam just stared, like he didn't want to believe this was real.

"It's safe. Trust me." As if to prove a point, Lucifer fell backwards into the portal and landed on the hard ground on the other side. Adam just stepped through, looking around cautiously.

Lucifer quickly jumped to his feet and carefully wiped away the pentagram. "Don't forget to do that. You don't know who will follow you through."

"Got it," Adam said, gripping the crystal tightly when he was done. "So... Where are we?"

"At my palace. I have a bunch of spare rooms, more than what I know to do with. So I turned one into a guest room for you," Lucifer said. "If you're ever scared, if you need a place to stay that you know is safe, or if you just need a break, then you can come here and stay as long as you want. I won't touch anything in here, I won't mess with any of your stuff. You can use any of the palace amenities, and I won't ask you to do anything while you're here." He watched Adam examine the bare room closely, as if he was looking for something. "Sorry if it's not that flashy. I thought it would be better if you decorated it since-"

"What's the catch?" Adam cut him off.

"Huh?" Lucifer looked confused.

"What's the catch?" Adam repeated. "There has to be some kind of catch."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What do you mean? There is no catch." Lucifer looked just as confused as Adam.

"You can't be this nice just because. There's something in it for you."

Lucifer sighed softly. "Adam. Trust me when I saw this. I don't want anything from you. I just want you to be safe."

"Why?"

"Because I care about you. More than I probably should... After everything you went through, you need a place that you know is safe, and the only place I thought of was here. And with the crystal, you can go anywhere you want in Hell at a moments notice. It's not exactly the freedom you had up in Heaven, but it's close enough, right?"

Adam said nothing, his expression unreadable as he looked away from Lucifer and down at the pure white crystal in his hands.

"I'll let you get settled in...." Lucifer turned and left the room. He walked down the quiet halls, but it felt different than before. Just having Adam here, it made his home feel warmer. It made Lucifer feel calm. I mean, Adam was probably never going to use the room, but just the idea that he could be here anytime... It made him smile.

He heard a gentle knock as he passed by the front door. Confused, he went over and opened it a crack to see who it was.

"Charlie?" He asked, swinging the door wide open. "What are you doing here?"

"Can I stay with you for a while?" She asked as she sobbed.

"Of course, baby! Come in, I'll get you bags." He gently ushered her inside and grabbed the few bags she brought, leading her up to her old bedroom. She was silent, except for the occasional sob, sitting on her bed while Lucifer started to unpack some of her clothes and belongings.

The silence was eating him up. Charlie was rarely ever like this. And judging from the puffy eyes, she had been crying for days. He carefully sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

"What happened, duckling?" He asked, his voice soft and gentle.

Charlie started cry harder than ever. "I don't know, Dad! I don't know why I've been acting like this! Everything was going so well with the hotel and Adam then Cameron came around and started framing Adam and I just got so mad and everything went out of control and Vaggie left and I kicked you out and Angel ran away and Alastor left and if Alastor leaves then Husk and Nifty leave too and I was all alone and I just couldn't take it! I'm a failure!"

"Charlie, sweetie, you're not a failure," he said, pulling her closer. "You're just.... Maybe you like Lilith."

"H-Huh?" She wiped her eyes, smearing days-old makeup on her face.

"I mean, you know I have some form of anxiety, and I passed that onto you. Your mother never really showed it, but she had some kind of mood disorder. I wanna say she was bipolar, but I'm not a doctor so I can't diagnose."

"Am I broken?"

"No, no, Charlie. You're not broken," he said reassuringly. "You just need some help. You still have that human disguise, right?"

"Yeah..."

"Wonderful. I'll get an appointment set up and I can take you up to Earth so you can get a diagnosis from a good, trusted doctor, and some good meds to help. Not the shit that Belle has. Maybe set you up with a therapist, too."

Charlie seemed to calm down at that. "I thought you couldn't go to Earth..."

"Charlotte, I'm the King of Hell. I can fo whatever I want, whenever I want, and however I want. If I want to go up to Earth to help my daughter, I will." He smiled and kissed her cheek. "Get some rest, duckling. I'll make your favorite tonight."

Charlie smiled and hugged him. "You're the best, Dad... I'm sorry for kicking you out..."

Lucifer hugged back tightly. "You had every right to, Charlie. I promised you I would never take them again and I broke that promise."

"You just needed help," Charlie tried to reason.

"And I could've gone somewhere else for that help. I didn't have to go to Auntie Belle." He kissed her forehead and pulled away. "Now get some rest. Seriously. You look exhausted."

Charlie gave him a weak smile and laid down on her bed, easily succumbing to sleep.

Lucifer just smiled and left the room. Finally, after all the shit of the past year, things finally started looking up...

This may be the conclusion of the Bad Day Arc (if you wanna call it that) but not the end of the story! There will be more fics around this storyline, that I shall not reveal because I wanna be a sneaky bitch :3 Mostly, I'm writing it for me, because I will take every excuse to shove my ocs where they don't belong (and none of the previous characters were ocs. I just asked friends to name them for one-off jokes and shit). I will shove my ocs into there like shoving a square into a circle hole

[kingofthering-two]

Oh my god. I received an email from tumblr to tell me that my DMCA counter notice from the 19th of December was incomplete because I was only countering 1 of the 4 links that were striked (mind you, this is meanwhile the notice they sent me only had one link).

They also mentioned that "your account has 6 valid DMCA strikes against it. There are two counter notices pending the 10 business day window but that will only remove 2 of the 6 strikes and will not be enough to restore your account".

Which counter notices are they taking into account considering the fact that I sent 3 in December? Who the fuck knows. This only means that my o.g. blog is not coming back before 2025 because the whole "10 business days window" thing is going to start again once they are going to process the DMCA counter notice I've just sent.

But the most "interesting" part of the email is the fact that "as a courtesy" (their words) they have included the original DMCA notice in the email :

[sskk-manifesto]

--

[seaofreverie]

So I wanted to apply to the second level of studies at the university where I did my bachelors degree after a year long break and it was lowkey my only plan for the forseeable future (2 more years of studying until I have to start thinking again about what in the actual fuck I want to be doing with my life). And today I learn that despite me passing the final exam one year ago with 100% points and them saying on their website that results from last year will be taken into account during this year's recruitation for the second level... it turns out that no, you have to pass the exam THIS year, and those start in about two weeks from now. I emailed them about this because they were giving me some contradicting information to put it mildly and they tell me that ooops, sorry about that, that thing on our website was outdated. So, you're saying that you have chosen war.

[troublcmakcrs]

//very excited to be done with adult tweek bc now i can properly brainrot about metro

[circe69]

"had to get it in, couldn't wait around!" - s.r. x reader

ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ who is it? simon "ghost" riley x you

ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ what is it? enemies always fuck better, right? you hate him, or so you thought...

ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ cws: unprotected p in v, angry simon turned soft, huge d!ck, knife play kinda? ass play, heavy make out. word count: 2.4k

<3

"what the fuck was that about?"

you stomped into an empty, abandoned conference room and stood at the end of a long table, with one masked man sitting at the other end. your arms crossed themselves across your chest, and you popped a hip out to the side as you waited for his answer.

simon motherfucking riley was your arch nemesis. someone you didn't trust, never agreed with, and certainly never wanted to work with. but the world isn't fair. it keeps spinning even when you despise someone, and captain price couldn't care less about your feelings towards simon when it came to the thousands of lives you were saving every mission.

usually, if you're in a group, you don't dare speak to simon this way. you only nod your head at his commands and walk away, hoping that he's receiving the millions of telepathic "fuck you's" you put out somewhere into the universe. but now, you're alone, and there is no better time than the present to tell your lieutenant off.

"if you need to blow some steam, i suggest going for a few boxing rounds w' soap. he's always looking for-" he paused whatever ministrations he was writing on a file and looked up at you slowly, "an easy opponent."

you huff and smirk out of pure anger as you briskly round the table, making your way over to him. "I'm not here to fucking play around, lieutenant, I'm here to let you know I'm pissed because you gave everybody else an assignment overseas next month except for me." you paused and let his eyes meet yours as your strong volume turned into a whisper. "I've worked just as hard, if not fucking harder than the rest of these task force fuckers, and we both know I'd be a good shot out there."

when it comes to you giving your superior a piece of your mind, simon usually submits completely. he never fires back, to everyone else's surprise, and he always allows you to use him, so to speak, to yell at him and get everything out of your system before entering the world again.

but not today.

simon slowly stood up from his chair, keeping eye contact with you as he expanded to almost double your size in every factor possible.

the seconds felt like years as his eyes bore down into yours. your heart rate was doubling every time one of you blinked, and you had to tense every single muscle in your body just to remain stagnant in position. the silence was deafening, and as the seconds passed, you remembered everything you've seen this man do, every corpse he's thrown to the side like a piece of garbage in his way, every knife rusted and wasted because it's been buried deep in the jaw of his enemies, and the eyes that have seen all of this from the first person perspective, are staring right into your-

SLAM.

simons hand comes down onto the wooden table with the force of 10 men, it sounds like, and you couldn't do anything but jump. you flinch. you fucking flinch and it feels like you're waving a white flag.

His gloved fingers reach out to your chin and tug you by the jaw, forcing your face inches away from his, "I have fuckin' had it with your attitude. you can act like a bitch all you fucking want to price, to gaz, and I sure as fuck don't care about how you treat soap. but to me," he squeezes your chin to reinstate your obedience before drifting his hand to rest on your neck, "to me, you either respect me or don't say shit at all. so get used to swallowing your words around here from now on, cause there won't be anywhere else for them to fucking go but down your own throat."

coincidentally, you do swallow. hard and slow, and simons eyes watch and feel your neck bobbing as you begin to shake just slightly under his pressure. as he squeezes, a small squeak releases itself from your lips and you mentally kick yourself for it, knowing that's just what he wants. because once you let yourself go to the stormy waters that is simon riley, you'll never be the same again. he'll make sure of it.

"you say yes sir." his low voice whispered into the empty room, your face somewhere even closer than before, every minute that passes you move an inch. you still can't open your mouth, you're suffering from shell shock and there's no mercy to be found in the eyes of your shooter.

simon pulls out a blade from his thigh holster and presses it to your side, "say. it. now." he yells even louder. you feel the sharp sting of the metal start to break through the cotton of your shirt and tease your skin. a tear breaks free from your eyes, and you are completely gone. you're done for. absolutely dead in every sense but the physical.

"yes sir." you whisper, finally freeing yourself from some kind of paralysis. you feel the blade crash onto the table, as well as the sweet release of your neck from his hand. an extra wave of oxygen that you didn't know you were missing flowed though you in small gasps.

simon said nothing as he walked straight past you, out of the door, slamming it behind him. he left you, his knife, and a part of your soul, there in that room.

ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

it had been a few days since simon had blown any ounce of relationship between the two of you into ash and dust, and you can't tell if the looks simon gives you now are filled with rage or just empty. empty meanings, empty promises, because he just doesn't care. but ever since he's made it clear with you that he is not to be messed with, you've unfortunately want him more.

simon riley is a fucking apex predator, and in the past, you've just been standing there, petting him, taunting him, and expecting nothing to happen. well now, you not only expect it, you fucking want it. you dream about all the things he could do to you. but all the things he hasn't said just prove that he couldn't care less.

that night, the only news channel your small tv offers called for rain, a lot of it, mixed with thunderstorms and lightning. as you dry your hair off with a towel, you walk to your window and look outside. your stomach churns at the sight of the angry clouds heading your way. you absolutely despise thunderstorms, and you prefer for a long night because there is no way you would be getting any sleep.

"fuck." you whisper to yourself as it starts to drizzle.

you try to ignore it as you kick off your slippers and get under your soft covers, pulling your duvet all the way up to your ears to try to mute the sound. it was now raining harder, and occasional sparks of electricity lit up your room from the sky, so you tossed and turn all night until you finally fell asleep.

it wasn't until hours later that a large boom of thunder shook you awake. you sat up immediately in a panic, gasping for air and looking around you as if you were expecting anything, something to explain the sound. tears started rolling down your face not only in fear, but in frustration also. you were so upset and so tired. you needed something, someone. just to tell you it was going to be okay. you slipped out of bed with a shaky hand clutching a necklace around your neck as you opened the door of your room and walked out.

the cold air of the hallway caused your skin to raise up into goosebumps and your nipples to pebble through your thin tank top, and even as you crossed your arms over yourself, it wasn't enough.

you headed straight for a door right down the hall. one with a name on the wood that you never thought you would go to in need in a million years. but you didn't know what to do.

your small knuckles rapped on the door, right underneath a nameplate.

simon "ghost" riley

you hear heavy footsteps and several locks unfastening before the door swings open.

a maskless man appears, with no shirt, and a large hand rubbing the side of his face. he was no doubt asleep before this. his eyes squinted as he leaned against the doorframe, trying to adjust to the light. your jaw hung slightly agape at the sight of him, so human. so disgustingly human who's done such non-humane things.

his eyes swept over your face as he noticed the tear stained cheeks, reddened from lack of sleep and continued down your body, down your full teardrop breasts, across your bare stomach, your sweatpants that hung loosely off your hips, and no words were spoken as he grabbed you by both forearms and drug you inside his room.

you gasped as he moved you backwards towards his bed, his much larger and comfier bed, and you no longer had any reason to stop him as he drug you under the covers with him. you couldn't believe him as he snuck in close to you, silently, as if it were normal.

it wasn’t until you felt an arm come up to rest upon your hip, and the floodgates opened. you couldn’t stop tears from rolling down your eyes. you were so confused, so scared, so fucking tired. small whimpers and gasps of breath continued.

“shhh.” came from simon’s mouth as he pulled you closer and softly squeezed your hip.

“you hate me” you whispered back, sobbing louder.

“hm-mm, no.”

“yes, you fucking hate me and you’ve just pulled me into your bed,” you start whining louder as your hands reach up to cover your face.

simon’s eyes slowly opened to look into yours before swatting your ass ,”quit crying n' go to sleep.”

you only responded with smaller, shorter intakes of breath and sniffles.

“y’hear me?” he patted your ass where he had slapped it before.

you nodded and whispered, “yes sir.”

a growl tore threw simon’s mouth as he looked up at the bedroom ceiling before throwing his forearm over his eyes, “fuckin’ hell.”

this time it’s you who reaches out, as you place a small palm on his bicep. he flinches at the touch before sighing,

“c’mere puppy.”

you slowly crawl on top of simon, placing both hands on his arms before allowing your head to fall between his neck and shoulder. a warmth slithered through you as you relaxed into him, and as his hand slowly caressed and squeezed the fat of your ass, the warmth exceeded just below your navel.

you made the mistake of squirming, and he noticed.

he clicked his tongue against his teeth while pulling you closer, “stay still.”

“i-i’m trying to get comfortable-"

"well stop." he interrupted, "just relax."

the wind outside howled, as simon's breath and yours intertwined through the space between you. and just like the storms outside, simon was the most unexpected thing to ever exist. he was trying hard to not scare you off, to be gentle, even though every thing in him contradicts that. but you know better. you know that he is gentle somewhere behind that mask.

you squirmed again, "simon I just don't know what to do." you leaned up to look at him. and there it was, the look that he only gave you, the small and desperate iris' just begging for some kind of affection. even without much light, you could still see him grasping at the frays for you. seconds of intense eye contact went by for simon broke the silence,

"just kiss m'then."

you gasped, sitting back a centimeter, but then nodded. and leaned into his touch. into him.

the kiss was soft and delicate, your lips and his just barely overlapping as you took in his woodsy smell, pine and maple, but that was all it took to pull a groan from simon.

more, more, is all he thought as he grabbed you by the hips and prodded his tongue against your lips. you smiled at the action, and without hesitation, opened up for him completely.

it was nothing but violent, raw, and urgent, the way simon kissed you. you moaned into his mouth as he smacked the fat of your ass, "all it took," he mumbled, "all it took was a little tongue for you to shut the fuck up."

you whined at the loss of contact as simon struggled to pull your pants down, but it disintegrated as he swiped a finger between your thighs, "fuck." simon whispered at the wetness pooling from your sex. "how many times have I yelled at you and gotten you wet?" he said, as he flipped you both around so you were now in your back, head smushing the soft pillow.

you groaned as he discarded his sweatpants and boxers, leaving his cock to spring out against his stomach. "how many times, baby?" he asked again, "you think about me hurting you when you play with this pretty pussy?" his index reached out to circle your clit a few times.

you couldn't help it, your body was betraying you in real time as your walls fluttered around nothing. "yes, yes I think about it, I think about you all the time simon." your babbles spilled out of you like water, and simon was lapping it up.

he chuckled, "don't even n'to prep you, you're a fuckin' faucet, sweetheart." his lengthy cock, with precut oozing out of the tip, was begging to be inside you, begging to fill you up. as he grabbed his length and positioned himself to your weeping hole, he looked you in the eyes, "y'want this?"

your eyes met his and for a second, you felt some sort of fire igniting deep within you, why was he even asking? why did it feel like the monster he is was softening for you?

you grabbed his hip and thrusted yourself, notching the tip of him inside your walls. "yes, I fucking want this, simon."

he chuckled as he watched him disappear inside you, inch by inch, every fucking centimeter felt like a year lived without you. he needed to make up for it, because the one woman that he couldn't stand just happened to be the woman he couldn't live without.

[reyalvr]

SHE'S MINE | 01

I'M ALL IN, I CAN'T REVERSE IT-

synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers. 

genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, slight angst, chaotic fluff, mild smut

pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan

word count ┊  3.2k

author’s note ┊ WOOHOO part one finally out! thank you so much for all the love on the prologue, it made me so motivated to make this as good as possible hehe >.< each chapter title is based off of a lyric in my writing playlist for this series, lmk if you guys would like me to drop it  ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶. happy reading!

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KEN KNEW HE WAS IN DEEP SHIT. Knee deep, even. If you asked him what was going through his head thirty seconds ago, he wouldn’t be able to tell you even if he wanted to. Everything that happened next was a blur- from shaking hands with the host to walking back to his dressing room, it felt like he was operating on autopilot. Who wouldn’t be, though? He had just announced to the world that he was officially taken; that he was off the market- hooked. Of course, it wouldn’t have been a problem if it were true…

But it wasn’t. 

He had just lied to an audience of a hundred people- not to mention the millions throughout the various streaming platforms the show was being aired on. His nails dug into his palm as he neared his dressing room, the bold, black letters of his name growing larger and larger each step he took. His heart was pounding, and he swore he felt chill down his spine the moment he opened the door. No one could blame him though, not if they knew the inevitable wrath they were about to face. 

You were stood there, eyes narrowed and resting all your weight on your hip. Your arms were crossed, your lips were pursed. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, staring at each other as you waited for the other to speak up. Ken swallowed nervously, tapping his foot as he tried formulating an explanation. He wasn’t entirely sure as to why he was so overstrung, it was just you. Why should he be terrified of your scolding on his recent screw up? 

“Special someone, huh?” You said through your teeth, finally breaking the tense silence in the room. “So special that nobody on your team knew of her prior to your public love confession?” 

Ah. That was why. The way you were able to see right through him scared him sometimes. He never outwardly showed his reactions, though- at least he tried not to. He cleared his throat before finally moving to plop down on the couch, doing his damndest not to show his jitters. 

“Yeah, yeah whatever. I lied, so what?” He replied, his cocky tone masking the unsureness in his words. “It’s not the first time I’ve done it.” 

Strike one. As if you couldn’t have been any more pissed off, that seemed to be the tipping point. You paused before letting out a deep breath, circling around him. He closed his eyes when he knew you were behind him, and he waited for you to berate him; to remind him of the consequences of his actions. He waited, but it never came. He opened one eye, and he relaxed when you moved to sit on the opposite couch. He was spared… for now.

“What, no scolding?” He decided to test, tilting his head to the side as he watched you. 

You only let out a small laugh, and somehow that was worse than any scolding he’d ever received from you. You were oddly calm, like all your anger had just melted away. Leaning forward, you slid an enclosed piece of paper across the table towards him. 

“Can you guess what this is, Ken?” You ask, your eyes finally looking back up to meet his. 

Ken knew not to answer. He was ready to spit out some witty reply, but the look in your eyes told him that this was going to go down another route; one that he definitely didn’t want to aggravate. 

“It’s my resignation letter.” You say nonchalantly, causing him to straighten up once more. “I keep it handy.”

Resignation letter? Was this real? Were you actually going to quit over this? He opened his mouth to speak up but quickly shut it when you maintained your soul-searching gaze. He tried to relax, yet the furrow in his eyebrows seemed to stay as you continued on. 

“I’m going to be very clear on what’s going to happen next, Ken.” You say, resting your arms on your knees. “This will be the last time I help you clear up a mishap. After everything is settled, I’m gone.” 

Gone. His eyes widened slightly, the palms of his hands starting to get clammy. He let out a light, nervous laugh, looking at you as if you had just said something absurd. Which, in his defense, you sort of did. Again, he had no idea why this news was so shocking to him, seeing as you’d only worked under him for a year and a half. Surely he couldn’t have been that terrible, right? He stared at the folded paper in front of him before speaking up.

“What, uh, what do you mean gone?” He asked through a breathy laugh. “Gone like a break or something? I’m happy to give you one-”

“Gone as in I quit.” You cut him off, standing up as you adjusted the sleeves of your shirt. “Like I said, this is the last time I clean up your mess, Ken Sato.” 

You moved to walk away, but he quickly caught your arm. “Woah, hold on a sec,” He stood up, looking down at you with stunned eyes. “Quit? C’mon, [Y/N] I know I screwed up but you can’t just leave me hanging like this-” 

You scoffed at him then, yanking your arm out of his grasp. “Oh I can’t leave you hanging, huh? Tell me, Ken, how many times have I saved your ass in the last eighteen months I’ve been working for you, hm?”

He swallowed dryly as he tried to recall. He was used to having his name on headlines, most especially after his move last year. He couldn’t go five seconds without seeing his ads pop up on his platforms, hell he couldn’t even go five blocks without seeing a billboard with his face on it. Which all brought him back to one thing: not one negative scandal under his name. With you, he was perfect; jack of all trades in the MLB and the internet’s favorite spokesperson. 

Shit. Strike two. 

You only hummed in response once you read over his expression. “Exactly. So the next time you even think about downplaying my job, remember how I was the reason for your recent success.”

Ken was at a loss for words. Rarely was he ever left speechless, he always seemed to have a response ready for anything. But now was definitely not one of those times. He watched as you bent down to retrieve that dreaded letter, and you shoved it into his chest before moving to finally walk past him. 

“Our flight leaves tomorrow at five a.m, I'll see you in the lobby at three.” You say, not so much as sparing him a glance as you fixed your bag. 

He managed to let out a quiet ‘okay’, gripping onto your letter tightly as he watched you pack up. Damn Ken, you really did it this time, didn’t you? He thought to himself, wondering how- or rather, if he would be able to make things right with you. For the first time in his career, he was thinking about someone else other than himself. 

“Oh and Ken,” You say, breaking him out of his dazed stance. 

“Hm?” He hummed out, averting his gaze to be level with yours. 

“You had better pray that the next assistant you get is half as good as I am.” You said before closing the door, leaving him alone in his dressing room. All of a sudden it felt… quiet. Too quiet. He sighed, dropping down on the couch once more before closing his eyes and masking his face with his hands.

Strike three. 

THE TENSION IN THE CAR WAS PAINSTAKINGLY PALPABLE. Ken’s leg bounced as the two of you were stuck in airport traffic, the car unmoving for nearly half an hour now. Your occasional sighs and the hum of the car’s engine were the only sounds filling the air. He felt like he was going crazy. He hadn’t been able to sleep properly the night before thanks to your bombshell of an announcement. In comparison, though, he probably shouldn’t be complaining about bombshells when he himself dropped one twice the size of yours. 

Still, he was restless. You hadn’t uttered a single word to him since landing back in Tokyo, and the unwanted solitude was driving him nuts. He glanced over at you through his shades, noting the way you were impatiently tapping your fingers against the wheel. Obviously you were still pissed at his little stunt, and the articles following the incident didn’t aid in calming your anger. 

He knew it wasn’t smart, but he needed to talk to you. The sea of red lights in front of him remained stagnant, and he didn’t want to spend another minute in this deafening quietude. He gnawed at his bottom lip before finally breaking the silence. 

“Can we talk?” He said, looking over at you. 

“No.” You replied bluntly.

“[Y/N]-” He started, but one glance from you was enough to shut him up. 

“I am doing you a huge favor by helping you solve the mess you created.” You said as you looked back at the road ahead of you, lifting your fingers and circling your thumbs around the wheel. “I could’ve left right then and there, leaving you to deal with this on your own. But I didn’t, I don’t know why, but I didn’t.”

You looked back up at him, and only now did he notice the circles under your eyes and the paleness of your complexion. Something inside him twisted; he couldn’t tell if it was guilt or regret. Guilt, probably, for having to rely on you to correct his mistakes, and regret for even causing this whole debacle in the first place. 

“The least I’m asking from you is your compliance.” You say tiredly, the glint in your eyes doing most of the talking. 

“Yeah, okay. Sorry.” He managed to get out, leaning back into the passenger seat. 

And just like that, the dreaded silence was back. By some miracle the traffic started to gain some speed, the taillights of the cars ahead of him dispersing onto the road. His head hit the back of the headrest, and he sat through the entire ride back to the Tokyo Dome contemplating his recent choices. 

It was only when you knocked on the window of the passenger side when he realized he had finally reached his destination. He got out, stretching his limbs after being cramped inside the car for so long. He threw on his jacket lazily, not even bothering to zip it up. He went to put on his cap, but then he noticed something odd. 

It was quiet outside the building, the bristle of the trees and the nearby roads the only sound filling his ears. There was something lacking; the neverending shuttering sounds of cameras and eager voices yelling at him to look or to say something. He realized then the lack of paparazzi and reporters outside to greet him, just like they usually did whenever he came back from a trip. His head turned, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked around. Not a single one in sight.

“‘Something wrong?” You asked as you walked past him to swipe your ID into the security system. 

“It’s just,” He said, still looking around in confusion. He let out an airy laugh as he followed you inside, the expression on his face remaining the same. “There’s no paps or anything.”

At that you laugh, albeit sarcastically, waiting for him to get into the elevator. “You know that might be the first time I’ve ever heard a famous person complain about not being bombarded by ill-intent people.” 

“I’m not complaining, trust me.” He says, putting his hands up halfway in defense. “It’s weird. That’s all.” 

“Well that’s what happens when people think you’re spending time with your special someone after being away for so long.” You say, pulling up a press announcement on your phone. 

For a split second, Kenji had completely forgotten that he had to keep up the fact that he supposedly had a significant other waiting for him at home. He let out an ‘ah’, sliding his hands into his pockets as the elevator went up. Again his heart panged, finally realizing why your eyebags were deeper than they usually were. While he may have had discomfort in his slumber, it didn’t compare to the hours you were up trying to get everything settled here.

You held the door open to your office, letting him in first. Once the lights were on, he was greeted with your infamous whiteboard, different scribbles of colorful ink filling up the space corner to corner. He cringed at the bolded date of the talk show he was on. 

“Your bags will be sent here in the next hour, and valet has your bike ready.” You say, doing the usual routine you did whenever the both of you came back from work trips. He sat down on the sofa, nodding each time you reminded him of something. 

“Now, about the issue,” You walk over to the whiteboard, erasing its contents. “We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” 

He choked on nothing, not surprised by the news but surprised by the continued bluntness of your tone. “I beg your pardon?”

“We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” You repeated, emphasizing the words obnoxiously. 

“Yeah I get that,” He finally replied, a look of uncertainty splashing his features. “But you’re making it sound like all we need to do is shop around.”

“Well unless you can give me a face, let alone a name to your special someone, this is the plan we have.” You retort, resting a hand at your hip as the other points at the board. 

“Why can’t I just be one of those celebrities who keep their relationship private?” He questions genuinely. 

“Oh I’m sorry, who was the one who announced that they were in love on live television?” You remind him, annoyance laced in your words. 

He bites back any sort of sarcastic remark that conjures up in the back of his head. You were right, obviously you were right. But some part of him felt it was… unfair to not have a say in this. Stupid, yes, but it’s how he felt.

“Can I continue or is there anything else you want to unnecessarily add?” You ask, looking at him with an eyebrow raised. 

He only lifted a hand, signaling for you to carry on. You go on to explain that whoever ends up “dating” him will need to have to go through a contract signing, NDA included. You draw up charts on your board, showing him the possible stats of his ratings if he’ll be able to pull this off. 

“Your next playoff season is about to start, I suggest we get all this settled by then.” You scroll on your smartwatch, looking at the calendar. “It gives me two weeks to plan everything out. I need you here tomorrow bright and early so that we can go through a list of potential candidates.”

“Candidates? What is this, speed-dating?” He says, making a face at all the analytical parts of your plan. 

“No, it’s a game called ‘save-my-reputation.’” You answer snarkily, narrowing your eyes slightly at him. 

He takes in a deep breath, starting to get annoyed with your remarks. He knew he had no right to, but to think that you were just dictating away at his choices made him feel like some sort of plaything. 

“I just don’t understand why we even need to find a ‘girlfriend’ in the first place.” He massages the back of his head before crossing his arms. “I mean everyone thinks I’ve successfully hidden my love life up until now, what’s the point of going all out?”

He could see you clench your fingers around the marker, and he knew he was close to reaching your tipping once more. All in the span of twenty-four hours. You pinched the bridge of your nose before you spoke up.

“Ken. You told the world that you were in love.” You say in an eerily calm tone. “You got yourself into this mess, now you have to get yourself out of it. And unless you want to say goodbye to your stardom, this is what you need to do.” 

He opened his mouth to speak up but was cut off by your phone’s ringing. You answered, spewing out a quick and formal ‘thank you’ to whoever was on the other line. You sighed, placing your marker back down on your desk before you walked past him towards the glass door. 

“Your bags are here.” You say, opening the door. “Your bike’s parked outside and everything should be good to go.” 

Your demeanor had changed in a split second, going from PR manager to assistant in the blink of an eye. At times Ken wondered how you were able to juggle everything. It wasn’t the main thing that was on his mind, he had… other, more serious things to worry about. Like the other secret he had kept from you all this time; Ultraman. He shook his head, trying not to focus on his double life on top of the situation he was in. 

Ken knew that your words were a sign to get up and get out, and he did just that. You followed him all the way back down to the lobby of the stadium, handing him his duffel bag and walking him to his bike. Despite your earlier mood, you did your checks on his motorbike that he had grown accustomed to after a while. 

“Tomorrow, bright and early.” You remind him, crossing your arms as he got on his bike. “Please.”

“Tomorrow, bright and early.” He repeats through a huff, slinging his bag into the compartment attached to the back of his motorbike. “Got it.” 

You only hummed in response, turning away to walk back into the stadium. He didn’t know what it was that came over him, but before he knew it he was grabbing your arm softly once more. Your head spun around to look at him, more of your stray hairs spilling out of your updo. At this angle the sunset brought out the shininess of your eyes, the early evening shadows accentuating your features. 

He swallowed before he continued. “You know for what it’s worth, I really am sorry.” 

Instead of another curt response, though, you sighed as you pressed your lips together. He lets go of your arm then, not wanting to invade anymore of your personal space than he already has. He can see you poke your tongue into your cheek, a habit you did when you were in contemplation. 

“Well,” You finally breathe out, your expression relaxing. “If you’re actually as sorry as you say you are, you’ll do as I say.” 

“‘Course.” He says before his face gets obscured by his helmet. He nods towards your direction once more before finally revving the engine. 

Only time will tell what the outcome is, but whatever it is, he hopes he ends up in the one where you don’t loathe his very being. 

reyalvr © 2024 … do not repost, alter, or steal my work.

tags┊@mochminnie, @rreasonablydumbb, @sincerest-one, @fruticake, @lunaryasha, @lovingyeet, @sugacor3, @arrozyfrijoles23, @fennecspage, @mmeerraa, @azryaa, @akiradailylifes, @montybooks, @mmv-ymvm, @hore4ken, @greeniegreengreen, @meikoo, @random-3455, @todaywasafairytale07, @mythicalmoa, @imafangirlofeverything, @astylos, @vynwan-cbq, @rosegiyanabing, @icedberrytea, @ken-zah, @letharue, @chi222, @flooftoof, @c4ttheart, @ymrai, @stxrrielle, @alpha-mommy69, @ewitscat, @lightsinmycity, @furblrwurblr, @ayamago, @sugururawr, @secretlyapartofthisfandom @shellspider, @oh-kurva, @noraimp

[luveline]

hellooo!! im not sure if your requests are open so feel free to ignore this but i was wondering if you could write for tasm!peter where the reader just got her wisdom teeth removed and she’s all loopy on anesthetics and forgets peter is her boyfriend? i saw this video where this girl got her wisdom teeth pulled and forgot she was dating her boyfriend and fell in love with him all over again😭😭

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR7sGQo5/

thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k

"Here she is," the nurse says gently, walking you out with his arm behind your back. "Alright, say hi to Peter." 

"Hi, Peter," you mumble, eyes on the floor. 

Peter grins at you, worry warm at the back of his throat. "Hey. Is that everything?" he asks, nodding at the nurses paper bag of aftercare. 

"Everything you'll need." The nurse helps Peter take over, hoisting your arm over his shoulders before stepping away. "Alright, feel better, okay? And don't hesitate to call if something comes up. We're here to look after you." 

You seem appreciative in your fog, but it's hard to tell. Peter curls his arm around your hip and gives it a soft rub as he leads you to the stairs. Whoever devised the floor plan here had murder on their mind —the second floor is completely inaccessible. Luckily, Peter has a lot of strength at his disposal. 

You can feel it. "Woh, you're strong," you murmur. 

"You know that already." His grip on you tightens, pretty much carrying you down the tight staircase. 

"Do I?" you ask. You make a sound like you're hurting, a squeak. 

"I'd hope so." At the end of the staircase, he sits you down, worried you're not feeling well. "You okay? I can princess carry you if you need me to." 

You look at him with wide eyes. He turns to check there's no one standing behind him, but you're really looking at him. "What?" he asks, touching your knee, imploring. "You look like you've seen a ghost." 

"You're Peter?" you ask. 

Ah, the amnesiac effect of anaesthetic. His touch turns comforting, stroking your thigh with as much care as he can drive into his palm alone. "That's me. Hey, if you're forgetting me, does that mean you're not mad at me for last Friday anymore? 'Cos I know you said you forgive me but I can tell it still pisses you off–" 

Your eyes fall to his hand. "Why would I be mad at you?" you ask. 

"I finished the milk and put the carton back in the fridge, even though I promised I'd stop doing it. You see the jug and think there's milk left. We were gonna have macaroni and cheese..." He nudges your fingers with his. "Are you okay? You don't look like yourself."

"What do I usually look like?" 

"Not so, you know. Daunted." 

"You're really handsome," you whisper, refusing to meet his eye. 

"Oh, you think so?" 

You nod like your head is too heavy. You're embarrassed, you sweetheart, oh my god Peter could cry into your lap. 

"Let's get you to the car, baby." 

"Where are we going?" The gauze gives you the world's most adorable lisp, and it turns your gasp into a hum as Peter stands you up. 

"Home." 

"Together?" 

"Yeah, we live together. It's a nice place, and you're a great decorator, you know? It's cozy." 

"Thank you," you say shyly. 

You're not not shy with him, but it's been a long time since you got so quiet over a practically innocuous comment. He wants to see how you'll react to real compliments, over the top stuff that he one hundred percent means. It's a little mean, but when will you ever be like this again? 

He helps you out past the desk and onto the street to your car where it's parked a half a block down. "Don't worry about all this, okay? I'm gonna take such good care of you, sweetheart. There's an ice pack and a brand new comforter with your name on it waiting at home." Peter smiles at your starry eyes as they flash to his, amazed at his simple plans. "How does that sound, beautiful? Is there anything you want before we head home? Anything that would make you feel better?" 

"You're gonna take care of me?" you ask breathlessly. 

"That's my job. That's my number one boyfriend duty." 

"You're my boyfriend?" 

"I am!" he says happily, laughing as he speaks. "For a while. I've been trying to take things further but you're always really shy about getting married–" 

"You want to get married? To me?" 

Peter presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "You're the only person I'd ever want to get married to. We already picked the flowers–" 

"We did?" 

He laughs again, all your questions. He loves regular you but loopy you is especially endearing. "Last time I got super drunk, yeah. You never let me forget it." 

"So you love me?" you ask, stopping short.

"I love you so much," he says immediately, hugging you into his side. He dots another kiss against the top of your head. "You should remember that even if you don't remember me." 

"I love you," you say quietly. 

Peter doesn't know if that's your memory returning, or if you've fallen in love with him in the last fifteen minutes. He could easily fall in love with you that quickly, and yet he's still amazed at your confession. 

"That's good. That's great. Thank you, sweetheart," he says, desperate to hold your face in his hands but weary of causing you future pain. "There's your car," —he points, lowering his head to yours to make sure you can see it, hand now protectively held between your shoulder blades— "let's go home now. Yeah?" 

You start walking again at his requests. He can pretty much see the steam rising off of your face, giddy with happiness at these revelations. You're together, you're in love, and you think he's handsome. He wonders what you'll have to say about his biceps in this state of delirium; you go crazy for his arms sober. 

Which reminds him. 

"I totally have another secret to tell you," he says, unlocking the car as you approach and helping you into the passenger seat. 

"What is it?" you ask. 

Peter closes you in and skirts around the door, climbing into the driver's seat. He's glad that New York is as ridiculously loud as ever, because not even the closed doors or your sodden gauze can smother the way you shriek.

"My boyfriend is Spider-Man?!" 

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x F!Reader Smut: Teasing will get you Somewhere

Gif found on Pinterest unknown credit

Warnings/Mentions: Blue balls, Dark/Rough!Daryl, sexual teasing (Daryl receiving) rough sex, spitting, choking, manhandling, biting, blood blisters, spanking, bruising, it might smell like dubcon but it's not

Summary: Reader wants to see Daryl at his breaking point, teasing and depriving him of release until he gets there. 

Notes: I loved writing this so much. While trying to think of a plot for dark!Daryl I remembered this idea/prompt someone had like 5 years ago where the reader teases a guy until he cracks and just goes crazy. I think it was a fanfiction, but I looked through my bookmarks and ao3 history and couldn't find anything like this so if you know what I'm talking about please let me know!!

All you wanted from the start was to see Daryl snap. He was such an aggressive loudmouthed man, but not in the way you wanted him to be. 

He'd started flirting with you to appease Merle, the man who'd instantly noticed how you swooned around Daryl. The younger Dixon didn't believe him, of course, but he approached you to avoid the harsh blows of Merle calling him a ‘belly-up pussy’ along with more distasteful slurs. 

His way of “flirting” was a lot like Merles at first. Offensive, inappropriate, you know the rest. You'd been patient enough to politely explain that you weren't like the type of women that would fuck Merle after he called them a 'sweet piece of Georgian ass', and he took the hint. 

Daryl was shockingly sweet after that. He was less verbal after learning vulgar compliments weren't the way to go, but it turned out alright for you in the end. He began looking after you like you were his full responsibility. Making sure you were fed first, bringing home clothes specifically for you, along with any other treats he thought you might like. 

It was great, aside from him never making a move on you. He gawked like you were an alien when you started dressing for his gaze, Bobby Brooks shorts, pretty tank tops, even shaving your legs once in a while. But he never made a move. 

That simply wouldn't do. 

It was late one night and you'd slipped into his tent. 

“The hell you doin'?” He cursed, wiping the sleep from his eyes as you zipped up the flap behind you. 

“Can't sleep, Carl won't stop coughing.” 

You'd been sharing a tent with Lori and Carl ever since you arrived with T-Dog. It wasn't a complete lie, Carl was coughing up a storm, sick with some chest cold, but that wasn't the reason for your lack of sleep.

“I got some earplugs.” He sat up and began shifting through his bags. 

“No, it's okay. Can I crash here tonight?” You asked innocently, kicking off your casual flip flops that you saved for night time piss breaks or trips to get water. 

Daryl tried hiding his surprise . The stutter in his voice gave him away. “Uh, sure, I guess. S’long as ya dun snore.”

You behaved for an impressive amount of time. Lying in silence, not moving an inch, waiting for him to loosen up before quietly shifting backwards until your back was pressed up against his chest. 

His heart felt seconds away from collapsing in on itself when he felt you. He'd popped a semi when you'd taken off that big T-shirt he'd given you, and now it was bordering on a full on erection.

You waited until you felt his body relax, which took longer than you originally estimated, and then wiggled your hips. 

The reaction was immediate. He sucked in a breath through his nose and made this choking sound. He grabbed your hips, only for a split second before yanking his hands away like he'd been burned. 

You wiggled again, pushing back until the feeling of the outline of his dick against your ass was ingrained into your memory. 

It didn't take long to wear him down, not at all. He let out a strangled groan and rocked into you, his self restraint long since thrown out the window.

And then you stopped.

He nearly gasped at the loss of friction. The feeling was so devastating that it sobered him, and his cheeks burned with embarrassment. 

“Wha-” he panted. His fingers loosened their hold on your hips and twitched against the fabric of your pajama shorts. “Why'd ya stah- stop?”

“I'm sleepy.” You said plainly, pulling the thin sheet up to your shoulders in emphasis. 

Daryl caught his breath behind you, struggling to make sense of it all through his confusion and disappointment. He grumbled something that sounded like it held an attitude, though sadly that was the extent of his protests. 

You needed more. You needed him to tear your clothes off and ravish you like the animal you knew he was. The Daryl that feverishly humped you like his life depended on it was cute, but you needed the Daryl that he was in his daily life. 

The only way you could think of was to force it out of him, even if it did torture the poor man in the process. 

You kept up the innocent teasing for a while. You took a break after Merle went missing, you knew your limits and his. You weren't a total selfish piece of shit. Only when you arrived at the farm and he began talking to you again did you resume your game of “teasing Daryl until he cracks”.

“How's it look?” You gave a cheeky smile as you turned in a circle with your hands on your hips. 

You'd put on the pair of green cargo shorts he'd found you. They weren't very practical, holding only four pockets, which was less than normal cargo shorts, but they were scandalous. The fabric hugged your ass tight enough to look damn near pornographic. 

“Didn't realize they were that tiny. Christ.” Daryl muttered with pink cheeks. “Jus’ give ‘em ta Beth. 

“Oh god. Can you imagine her face? That girl is still wearing pants in late summer. Her daddy would kill me.” You snorted and turned back to face him. “I'm keeping these bad boys. The fabric is soft. Wanna feel?” 

“Already felt em when I took em.” Despite his words, he set down his knife to free up his hands. 

“Give me your hand.” 

The poor boy was so eager to feel you that he practically threw his hands in yours. When you placed his palms on the sides of your shorts he seemed to snap to life, dropping the nonchalant attitude to rub his thumbs over the fabric covering your hips and thighs. 

You tried to keep the smug smirk off your face, and failed miserably. He was turning himself on just by touching the clothing that covered your pelvis. 

Suddenly, you pulled away, feeling your heart lurch in your chest at the way his face dropped.

“Thanks again. I've been needing new shorts.” 

“Yeah. Uh-huh. S'nothin.”

It went on like that for a while. 

One night you climbed into his tent again with the ruse of being cold, and he didn't mention the fact it was a warm seventy degrees that night. You were wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt and panties, and made sure to make Daryl aware of this when you slid your knee over his thigh. 

Nothing happened that night either, nothing other than pretending to sleep while he palmed himself through his jeans. 

Another time you put on those green cargo shorts and offered to tidy up his camp, an offer he was quick to accept just so he could watch you needlessly bend over to grab random objects to place somewhere else. 

Once you even made out with him. Late at night in his tent, things got hot and heavy and you straddled him, wearing the same oversized T-shirt and panties, washed since then, of course. 

He was nervous at first, you could tell by the way his hands trembled on their way up your sides. You kissed him slow and sweet, nothing too extreme, not until he pushed his hot tongue against your lips. 

You let him in and groaned at the enthusiasm he showed. He kissed you like you were still teenagers, up in the loft of some barn hiding away from Daddy. 

“Shit.” He panted against your lips. He moved his hands down to your waist and pulled you down hard, groaning when he got that first taste of friction he so desperately craved.

“Slow down.” You breathed. Your body betrayed your words, your hips rolling down gentle and slow, just enough to feel the outline of his aching cock through your clothing. 

“Why?” He muttered before pressing another kiss against your lips. “Wha's stoppin’ ya? I got condoms. Glenn's got the pill. S'fine.” 

You pulled up and away from his lips. He looked so pretty beneath you all desperate like that. It still wasn't what you wanted. 

“I don't know, Daryl-” Your voice choked into a whine when he moved under you, the friction momentarily rendering you speechless. 

“Can't ya feel what yer doin’ to me? Huh?” He snapped his hips again, forcing out another whine. “S’all for you. C'mon now.”

“Not here Daryl.” You tried to keep your voice level and firm. “Not in some tent where we have to be quick and quiet.” 

“Le’s go somewhere then. Anywhere ya want, don't care. Tell me. I'll take ya.” 

Truthfully, that almost made you give in. But it still wasn't the Daryl you wanted to experience. He was desperate, but not desperate enough. 

“Not tonight, Daryl. It's too late and Shane's on watch. He'll have my ass if he catches us sneaking out.” 

Daryl growled in frustration, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. “Won't get caught.”

“Yeah, sure. Let's just wait another night.” You pressed a kiss against his cheek, innocent enough, contrasting painfully with the way you ground down against him one last time before sliding off.

Part of you started doubting your plan. Daryl was too reluctant, too full of self doubt, too terrified at the aspect of losing whatever fun thing you had going on by pushing your limits. Even though you had no problem pushing his. 

His patience amazed you. Any other man would've thrown you to the side after the first few times, or ignored your “wishes” and dove right in. He didn't know that's what you wanted. You couldn't blame him. 

How could you tell someone like Daryl “I want you to fuck me with enough desire and aggression to give a nun a heart attack”? He'd been too gentle during foreplay, too submissive, you were beginning to think he was a virgin. 

Maggie gave you a dress. You didn't know who it once belonged to, her or her sister, but it was one of the cutest things you'd ever laid eyes on. A pretty moss green that went right below your knees, laces up your stomach the same color as the dress, and thankfully, no sleeves. 

The domestic look had Daryl in shambles. You looked like a farm wife from a damn magazine, it took everything he had in him not to fuck you behind the barn like he wanted. 

He took you out that day. On a ‘food supply run’, as he called it. You weren't anyone's first pick for runs, which you understood, you were easily distracted. It was your biggest fault.

So when he asked you specifically, and you alone, you were barely able to contain your excitement. 

The first place you stopped by was an old farmers corner store to pick up enough food so you didn't come back empty handed. A few canned goods, stale snacks and three cans of soda. 

He left that in the back of the truck when the two of you stopped by a house. A very nice house, to your surprise. 

“Can't believe this place hasn't been trashed.” You commented while rummaging through the kitchen. “No more food, but there's some lighter fluid.”

“Hm.” Daryl grunted. After securing the front door he found you still in the kitchen, chewing on a mouthful of gum. 

You'd shoved about three long sticks in your mouth. “Want some?”

He eyed the gum wrapped in silver paper before taking it from your outstretched hand with a gruff thanks. 

It was hard to focus on, his heart felt like it was in his throat, it was hard to swallow, and his jaw ached from his aggressive chewing. He'd done everything you wanted, got birth control; condoms and plan B. He found this nice house that same morning, almost immediately after seeing you walk outside in that dress. He even cleaned up the master bedroom for you, dusting off the sheets and beating the pillows, opening the windows to air out the room. 

There was no way you could wave him off now.

Oh, but you found a way. It was a talent that needed to be fucking studied. 

You were digging through the dresser in the upstairs bedroom when he approached you. You ignored the sound of the door shutting and locking behind him, pretending to be very interested in the contents of the bottom drawer. 

His hands found your sides. Your skin tingled as he pulled you to your feet and pressed you against the dresser with his palm on your lower back.

He went to kissing the back of your neck. His lips were light and soft, contrasting the anxiety bubbling in his gut. 

“Hmm.” You hummed. He brushed your hair over your right shoulder and went back to kissing your neck, peppering them all the way to the point of your left shoulder. 

“Missed ya'.” He muttered, pushing his hips forward to drive home his point. 

You tried not to laugh with pity at the feeling. He was already hard? Poor thing. 

“We're supposed to be looking for food.” You chided playfully. You shifted your ass and earned a low grunt of appreciation for the friction. 

“Then why’re ya in the bedroom?” He challenged. When you didn't respond he smirked against the skin on your neck. 

His hands didn't wait for permission. He bent his knees so he could grab the bottom of your dress, gathering it in his fists and pulling it up and over your ass. He sighed at the sight, you were wearing the type of panties he'd only ever seen on a clothing rack or behind a screen. Black soft fabric, tight and with lace around the hem, hugging your curves just right. 

“Daryl, come on.” You chuckled, but made no attempt to move. “They're gonna wonder where we went.”

He laughed, the sound dry and humorless. “Don't give a shit. They'll survive.” 

“And what is it you wanna do so bad that's more important than feeding our people, huh?” You mused, placing your palms on the dresser he was pushing you harder up against. 

“Ain't my people.” He quipped and ground into you, dying to make you feel how desperate he was for you. 

You choked back a moan. “You didn't answer my question.” 

“Want ya. Right here.”

“Want me to what?” 

Daryl sighed and released his hold on your dress to grip your waist. “Wanna fuck ya nice an’ good. Make y’feel what y’been missin’.”

You groaned. Your grip on the dresser turned white-knuckled as he pushed against you again. 

“Yeah?” Your breath trembled past your open lips. “What else?”

Daryl pressed himself closer, until his mouth was right at your ear. “Wanna feel what ya’ been keepin’ from me. Taste ya'. Shove my dick in that pretty lil’ mouth n’make ya sorry.” 

His words had an obvious effect on you. Your knees trembled and your breathing was louder, more shallow. 

But he still hadn't cracked. 

The curiosity was eating you alive. You couldn't give in now, not when he was so fucking close. You turned to face him and gave a ghost of a smile, trying your best to look sympathetic.

“Maybe some other time.” 

His eyes widened and his eyebrows scrunched tightly together. His nostrils flared as his pupils darted over your face, looking frantically for the slightest sign telling him it was a joke. He looked hurt, confused, like you just slapped him in the face and called him a slur.

There it is. 

“You-” he choked out, “Y’aint serious?” 

You forced a nod. 

“Why?” The way he raised his voice sent a bolt of pleasure through your core, and you had to fight back a whimper. “Got everythin’ ya needed. Went through the trouble’a findin’ this place, ain't gotta be quiet, ain't gotta worry ‘bout walkers or someone hearin’, the hell else you want from me woman?” 

You couldn't stop yourself from whimpering. You bit your bottom lip and tried to steady your breathing, but when you stole a glance at his face and saw the expression held there your lungs shifted into overdrive. 

He looked so fed up. 

“What are you gonna do about it?” You whispered. 

Daryl sneered in contempt. “The hell can I do ‘bout it? Not gonna beg.”

You swallowed hard. You slowly shook your head, your chest rising and falling dramatically, your body still trapped between his arms, his hands on the dresser behind you. 

“Don't want you to beg.” 

You pressed a hand between his legs and he let out a strangled groan, his elbows swaying as they threatened to give out. You flexed your fingers to massage his length, and pulled away. 

His eyes shot open and just as quick his hand wrapped around your wrist, yanking you back to his bulge and nearly breaking your fingers in the process of shoving them down the waistband of his jeans. 

After unbuckling his belt he was able to cram your hand down deeper, forcing you to feel him. 

You gasped when your fingertips made contact. You didn't know a dick could get that hard. It felt just as firm as any other extremity. 

“Daryl.” You let out a long sigh as you gave a half assed attempt to pull your hand out. His grip on your wrist tightened. 

“Hmm?” The teasing tone of his hum made your clit throb. 

“We can't-” You didn't get to finish your sentence before he scoffed and picked you up. Like actually picked you up in his arms, bridal style. He threw you on the plush bed where you bounced a few times, and dove into you.

“S’enough.” He muttered. He pulled your dress up over your waist and looped his fingers through the sides of your panties. You thought he'd hesitate, take a look at the expression on your face and back off, but he didn't. He tugged them down your legs and tossed them off the bed in a random location. 

“Ain't some pussy ya’ got on a leash.” His fingers snaked between your legs, beelining for your cunt. He groaned in surprise, his eyes rolling back at the feeling. You were beyond wet at this point, his aggression had your folds like a slip n slide with lube instead of water. 

You bit back a moan. His fingers spread your folds, smearing your wetness around, his thumb pressing down against your clit. 

“Fuck!” You gasped. Your hips instinctively shifted to the side from the overwhelming sensation, but a firm grip on your waist quickly snatched you back. 

“Think y'can do whatever the hell ya’ want, and I'll jus’ sit back an’ let ya’?” He didn't give you time to answer. He pushed a finger inside you, and both of you hissed at the feeling. “Ffuck. Shit ain't like that no more, princess.” 

Any other time you would've snapped at the insult, but his finger digging around inside you had your mind blank. 

“Wha’s wrong? Huh?” He twisted his finger and you cried out. His voice was sickly sweet, something that should've pissed you off but only fueled your arousal. “Got nothin' to say?” His finger curled, a movement that held no thought behind it, though the way you gasped and arched your back had him repeating the action. 

Then he started mocking you. “Oh no, not now, it's not right, I'm not ready!” He scoffed in disgust. “Like ya’ a lot better when ya’aint speakin’.” 

Oh, god. You should be fuming. You should be spitting venom right back at him, but this is everything you'd wanted from him. It was all going according to plan. 

Maybe he knew that, or maybe he didn't. Either way he was behaving just as you'd imagined countless times, rough, mean, cruel and demanding. 

“C'mon, try a little bit.” He growled after leaning down to bite at your open neck. “Go on. Tell me it ain't the time. Tell me.”

You were nothing but a puddle under him. Your hands became too restless and reached up to grab at him, balling your fists in the back of his shirt.

Never in your life had a man treated you like this. No matter how bad you teased and gave subliminal signals. They would either indulge in your teasing, respect your wishes and back off when told to, or kiss and plead until you relented. 

Finally someone was fucking you like you had always wanted. Or, they were about to. 

The knuckle of his thumb had been digging into your clit for a good minute now, and despite how uncomfortable it could feel at times, you came quickly. 

You sucked in a sharp gasp and locked your legs around his waist, trying to pull his finger in deeper, or make his knuckle grind harder. 

Daryl groaned into your neck as you came around his finger. His hips jerked forward and bumped against his hand between your thighs, knocking his digit in deeper. You yelped, not expecting such a sharp sensation during your warm and soft climax. 

He withdrew his finger and you whined. 

“Sh-sh-sh.” You didn't think a hush could sound so condescending. “Got somethin' better. Gonna make you regret not takin’ it sooner.”

You said it before you could stop yourself. “You don't have it in you.” 

His eyes flicked up to your face as he pulled his zipper down, a look on his face that sent chills across your bare legs.

There was slight amusement, slight relief, as if someone finally gave him permission to show off and prove himself. Lips parted into a breathy smirk, tongue peeking between his teeth, and one eyebrow raised. 

Your eyes dropped to his pants when he pulled his cock free. It looked just as you imagined when you'd touched it only minutes ago, standing at full attention against his lower stomach.

You let out a sigh when you saw it reached his navel. 

Daryl leaned down until he was level with your pussy. You heard it before you felt it, the sound of him spitting, and then warm drool dropping right on your sensitive clit.

You squealed in protest, trying to raise yourself on your elbows, but he stopped you with a hand on your chest. With his free hand he smeared his spit over your already soaking folds, even going as far as to push some inside you with his finger. 

“Ew!” You gasped. 

You felt a tingle. Subtle at first, you just assumed it was the salinity of his saliva, and then more prominent. You were close to panicking until you saw the wad of white gum shoot out of his mouth, landing with a smack against the hardwood floor. 

At least you knew the source of the tingling. You swallowed your own gum, the same way you'd completely forgotten about.

The skin around your cunt buzzed when he slapped the tip of his dick on your clit, and you squirmed beneath him. He steadied you with the same hand on your chest. 

“Wait.” You inhaled deeply. He didn't wait though, he just pushed into your clenched hole, ignoring your whines.

“Ssss-shut up.” His voice trembled. He used his free hand to wrap around the base of his dick, holding it straight as he slowly pushed in further. 

“Y-you said you had condoms.” 

Daryl let out a loud groan as he sank into you. His right hand on your chest increased in pressure as more and more of his upper body weight bore down on it, forcing the air from your lungs. 

He was so thick, and it had been years for you. The burn was incredible, in such a pleasurable way that you should've felt ashamed to enjoy. You tried to moan, but nothing came out aside from a strained breath. 

“Ain't nothin' gonna make me feel rubber instead’a this.” He grunted. He rolled his hips forward and finally pulled his hand off your chest to roll the dress up and over your body. 

“F-Fuck.” His whimper was strangled in his throat. Being completely naked under someone who was fully dressed had you clenching around him, earning another whimper from said man. 

“Should feel ‘shamed, keepin' all this from me.” 

You didn't. Not one bit. 

“But I know ya'aint.” 

You furrowed your brows, momentarily stunned by his apparent mind reading abilities. He jerked his hips forward and your face fell slack, your jaw dropping and your eyelids falling shut. 

His thrusts were harsh, but far too slow for you to get anywhere. You grabbed his shirt and used it to pull him down, desperate for more stimulation. 

Daryl happily obliged. His breath was hot on your ear before he took the lobe between his lips, sucking and licking the flesh. You gasped as he bit down on it, and you could sense the smirk on his lips. 

“Daryl?” You breathed, the name breaking on your tongue with another thrust. 

“Jesus.” He groaned, thoroughly annoyed. He released your ear and pulled back to look at you, frustration evident on his face. “What?”

“Thought I was gonna regret it.”

Your words had his upper lip twitching and his eyes widening ever so slightly. 

“Yeah?” He huffed. “S'gonna be like that?”

He rose from your chest, shifting until he was sitting on his boots. His hands grabbed onto your hips and yanked you down on his dick, forcing a cry from your dry throat. It took him a few seconds to position himself, leaning back just a bit, his grip on your hips tight, and then he started fucking you in a ruthless pace. 

It wasn't what you were expecting. Your mouth dropped into a long gape and your eyes shot open as he pounded his pelvis against yours, driving his dick so deep it reached places your fingers never had. 

Each thrust had a gasp burning in your lungs, and those gasps quickly grew to embarrassing moans. Now that you were ashamed of. If you had the ability to stop it you could, but the way he was thrusting into you rendered you utterly unable to control yourself and the sounds you made. 

“Get up.” 

You weren't sure why he even spoke, because he was moving your body by himself before you could process his command. He pulled you to the side of the bed and turned you over on your stomach, bending you over and shoving his dick back inside you so fast you shrieked. 

Your feet flew up behind you, smacking against the back of his thighs. If you could've seen it you would've laughed. 

The new angle was paralyzing. His dick was no longer tilted against the spot under your stomach, the spot that had you a drooling mess seconds ago. Now it smashed against a deeper part of you, a part that had you groaning with each frustration fueled thrust. 

“Fuck.” Daryl groaned, his pace slowing to give momentary reprieve. He wasn't as young as you, and even though he was always out there doing a hundred times more labor intensive activity, he needed a second to catch his breath. 

There was still an itch yet to be scratched. While he regained his bearings you fought to think of a way to say it without actually saying ‘i want you to hurt me and fuck me till I cry’. You'd already humiliated yourself enough. 

When he began picking up the pace again, you reached for the hand beside your head and bit down on his knuckles. Not gently, either. You bit down so hard he could've ripped a tooth out with the way he yanked his hand away.

“The fuck?” His voice was barely below a shout. “Ya’ crazy bitch!” 

There was no retaliation besides a particularly forceful thrust, to your irritation. 

“You baby.” You managed to grunt out. “Barely bit you.” 

“Barley bi-” he scoffed, looking down at the hand he now had splayed across your lower back. There were deep pink imprints from your teeth over his index finger knuckle, and the skin around it turned a bright red. 

You felt his fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling your hand away from its grip on the bed sheets. Your heart hammered quicker than his thrusts when his breath tickled your skin, and then he bit you. In the same spot you bit him.

It wasn't nearly as hard as you bit him, but you still whimpered at the ache. 

“Point stands.” 

Daryl couldn't believe what he was hearing. His jaw set and he dropped your wrist. 

The smug smirk you'd been keeping to yourself fell when your hair was suddenly twisted in the fist of his right hand. With just that leverage alone he pulled your upper body up, and his left arm snaked around your torso to keep you flush against his chest. 

He yanked your head to the side. You gasped. 

“This what ya’ wanted, huh sweetheart?” He breathed against your ear and drew back until his dick nearly slipped out before slamming back in.  

“Mmm-oh god yes.” You blurted out between moans. 

“Jus' had to ask.” He managed a chuckle. 

“More.” 

He furrowed his brows, but kept up the slow and deep pace. He couldn't imagine what else he could give you. He was fucking you hard enough to bruise, he was pulling your hair, what, did you want him to start beating you? 

He dipped his head down to bite your shoulder, holding back just enough so that he wouldn't give you an actual wound. 

You have to consider that biting someone with enough force to actually break the skin takes a lot. Skin isn't like the flesh of a fruit. It's tough, and would require chewing to break through. So for him to stop right before that point meant he was biting you so hard you got blood blisters, and the pain was all you could focus on. 

Your wail of genuine pain had him pulling back like he'd been shocked. His thrusts slowed, and through ragged breaths he spoke, “Shit, m'sorry. M'so sorry.” 

“No.” You gasped. Your shoulder felt like it was on fire, and your walls cleaned around him in response. “So good. Feels so good.”

Daryl let out a huff in relief. “Ya’ weird as shit, yanno that?” 

“Mhmm.” You groaned, pressing your ass back tightly against him. “More.” 

He took a deep breath to steady himself and pushed you back down on your stomach. He had to work himself up to it, the idea intimidating. Once his thrusts were back to their former sharp pace he raised a hand in the air. 

You tilted your head to the side so your cheek was pressed against the blanket. When you saw his right hand held up, your heart leapt. You never nodded so quickly. 

Daryl ground his teeth together, glancing down at your ass, your face, and back to your ass again before smacking his hand against it. 

It was barely a love tap. 

You groaned, wiggling your hips and earning a moan from him in response to the feeling on his dick. 

He took the hint and gave another smack, harder, but still not giving that burn or satisfying ‘smack’ sound you wanted.

“Daryl, please.” You whimpered. “Hurt me. I'm not made of glass.” 

You barely got the last word out before he slapped you. Open handed, fingers spread and slightly curved to mold perfectly against your asscheek. You yelped and instinctively tried scooting up the bed, held back by his left hand on your hip. 

It clicked in his head then. No wonder people liked spanking so much. His palm tingled and he could see a faint handprint start to color your skin. And the way you reacted, that sound you made, your body trying to get away from him, it made his dick twitch. 

“Fuck!” You cried out after another hard slap. The pain fully distracted you from the ache in your shoulder, white hot pain spreading across your ass and up your spine. 

“Such a baby.” He meant it to sound patronizing, but he was still too amazed by the new turn on he'd discovered, and the words came out breathless. 

Your whimper bled into another cry as he spanked you again. 

And again. 

Again, again, until you were on the verge of tears, sobs bubbling from your wet lips as you tried to squirm away from him. 

As if you actually wanted to. Which you clearly didn't. You were practically gushing around his dick. 

He rubbed his palm over the deep red skin, barely soothing the blinding burn he'd left behind. “Goddamn.” 

“M'gonna cum.” You were literally drooling. 

He snapped his attention away from your ass and back to you. “Whaddya want, huh?” He quickened his pace once again, jolting forward to press his body against your back. You whimpered at the way he moved, his dick pushing deeper inside you. 

“More, please,” you stuttered, trying desperately to work your hand under your body, which proved to be difficult due to his weight on top of you. 

Daryl noticed and lifted your hips with his hands. He shoved your eager arm out of the way and rubbed your clit with his own fingers, fast and deep in a way he assumed you'd like. 

You moaned under him, arching your back, feeling him slip in further. It was as if he grew another inch every five minutes. Or you grew another inch deeper, and he was staying the same. Either way he was deeper, and it felt immaculate. 

The rise to your climax was slow, but powerful. You were fully prepared to gently tip over the edge and slide down in bliss. 

That was before he slapped your pussy. Then you fell down gasping. 

Daryl held onto your body like you were a wild mustang, trashing and twisting under him in ecstasy. He withdrew his hand and grabbed your hips again, resuming his brutal pace, clamping his teeth down on the back of your neck to keep your bodies anchored together. 

It took a while for you to come down from your high. When you did it was violent, the pure bliss smashed away by burning overstimulation. 

“Fu-uck!” You heaved in deep breaths. “Daryl s’too much, can't, wait!”

“Ever since that night ya’ came in my tent, blue ballin’ me like that,” he growled against your neck, “-been dreamin’ ‘bout havin ya’ like this. Fallin’ apart. Face full’a tears. Ain't stoppin now.” 

He wasn't bluffing. He didn't stop. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, ramming into your abused cunt, only slowing to shift in positions so you were on your back. 

The air felt amazing against your chest. Daryl ripped that feeling away with gnashing teeth, biting your hard nipples and alternating between sucking and pinching.

The house had to be surrounded by walkers by now. There was no way it wasn't, you were crying and moaning like you were getting paid for it. 

“Oh, god.” You wailed as another orgasm built up quicker than ever inside you. “Oh please, fuck, god!”

A jolt of pleasure shot through your core when Daryl's hands wrapped around your throat. 

Now, Daryl was no stranger to strangling someone. He'd choked plenty of people out before.

In fights.

He was unaware there was a different type of choking for pleasure. Instead of squeezing the sides of your throat with his thumb and fingers, he wrapped both hands around your neck and fucking strangled you. 

You squeezed your eyes shut so tight they ached as you came. Your orgasm had started off blinding, overwhelming every inch of your body, but Daryl's crushing grip soon muted the tail end of your climax and filled your ears with a deafening ringing. 

Daryl pulled his teeth off your nipple and panted against your ear. “Lemme cum inside ya’, sweetheart.”

You could barely process what he'd said. You forced your eyes open against the pressure induced burn, trying to find his face, only to see the side of his head. 

“Can't pull out.” He growled and released some of the pressure around your throat. Oxygen and blood flooded your head, leaving you dizzy and with black around the edges of your vision. 

“Can't, m'sorry. Oh, huh-  fuck!” His voice was strained as every muscle in his body tensed up. His hips surged forward, stuffing his dick balls deep to coat the end of your walls in his cum. “Mmm-fuck s’good. So good. Ohhh, Hah-” 

He choked on his moan. He moved his head, replacing his hands around your neck with his mouth, kissing and biting at the tender skin as he spurted ropes of hot cum inside you. 

Your body broiled under his crushing form. Your thighs relaxed from their clamped position, falling off his waist and dropping to the bed beneath you. Your lungs ached and your throat was raw, but your pussy buzzed so intently it felt like you had a vibrator pressed against it. 

“Oh, god.” The tone was full of dread and you forced yourself to focus on Daryl. 

“What?” You croaked. There was a stabbing pain in your neck from Daryl choking you out like you were a man his size. 

“Yer all fucked up.” He whined. He traced his fingers across your throat. “S’bad. Oh fuck.”

“Calm down.” You sat upright after he pulled back enough for you to do so, his dick dragging out against your trembling walls in the process and making you hiss.

“It's okay. I'll just tell em a walker got the jump on me. We've all seen them grab throats. It's fine.” You pressed a kiss to his worried lips. 

“Gonna tell em a walker did that too?” He pointed an exhausted finger at the bite mark on your shoulder, which was now in the early stages of a deep bruise, not to mention the blood blister in the shape of his teeth.

You laughed softly. “Fuck no. I'll just skip the tank tops for a week or two.”

That seemed to settle him enough and he nodded, moving to lay on his back. 

“That was amazing.” You broke the long silence. “Seriously. You're the first man to ever… you know.”

Daryl furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at you. “Huh? Y’never…?”

“No! I mean…” you sighed. “Never had a man make me come.”

Now he was at full attention, sitting upright and leaning back on his palms. “Nah, no shit.”

“I'm serious.”

He let out a light scoff, shaking his head in disbelief. “Jesus.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he watched you climb off the bed to grab your thrown panties. “Me too.”

You glanced over your shoulder as you stepped into them. “Really? You never…?”

He nodded, going back to biting his cheek. 

“How'd you last so fucking long?”

A cocky grin crept across his lips at the compliment behind your words. He was worried he didn't last long enough. And you just asked him how he held on so long.

“Jerked off like, ten fuckin’ times today.” 

That meant he knew he was going to fuck you today. Heat spread through your core again, despite how worn out you were. You smiled and climbed back on the bed to smother him with kisses. 

“You're so fucking hot.” You mumbled against his lips, which were moving weakly against your own. 

“Says the bitch that wouldn't fuck me.” He chuckled. 

“Just wanted you to make the decision for me. It's a lot hotter that way.” You hummed, pulling your swollen lips away from his. “It worked.” 

“Psh.” He rolled his eyes and began stuffing his soft cock back in his jeans. “Put yer clothes on. Place is probably crawlin' with walkers. Le’s get the hell outta dodge before anymore show up.”

Now that Daryl was in on your little game, you couldn't wait to play again. 

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx @jinx-nanami

[submattsmxmmy]

roughdom!stepbro!chris x bratty!stepsis!reader

🖤 content warning: smut, stepsibling kink, daddy kink, mentions of porn, posessiveness, praise/degradation, biting, kinda risky, unprotected rough sex

🖤 summary: your stepbrother, chris, gets jealous when he sees you flirting with another man - and not just any man, but one who's nothing like him.

hiiii it's me, @ariestrxsh. if you don't fw the stepcest shit, then idk what to tell you. lmao. don't read this shit. sorry mom, sorry god, and sorry chris sturniolo, if you ever see this deranged, god-forsaken piece of writing.

holdyourbreath

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

The sun was beginning to descend below the horizon line as Chris turned down his street, indie music playing softly through his speakers.

He didn't think much of the old, beige sedan sitting in the driveway when he got home, except for being slightly annoyed that it was in his spot. He figured you had a girlfriend staying the night who didn't know he always parked there or something.

He let out an agitated sigh as he pulled up beside the curb and cut the engine. He made his way up the driveway with a basketball under his arm and his t-shirt clinging to his sweat-covered chest.

He turned the knob and stepped inside. He cracked a subtle smirk at the sound of your laugh, a noise that once would have made him roll his eyes. He hated that you were secretly growing on him - or maybe he liked it. He wasn't completely sure yet.

The smile on his face faded quickly when he heard a second voice - a man's voice. He quickly made his way into the kitchen, envy already brewing inside of him.

He burst through the door to find you sitting across from a dark-haired boy, batting your lashes and twirling your hair around your finger as you thoughtlessly giggled at every word he said. You jumped as if you were doing something wrong when your eyes flew up and noticed Chris.

You took note of his flushed, pink cheeks, his tired, blue eyes, and his sweaty brown hair sticking to his forehead. You adored the way he looked when he'd just finished up playing basketball or working out, but you didn't let your glance linger for long.

"Hi, Chris," you casually mumbled before turning your attention back to the boy sitting across from you. "Hey. What's up? I'm Josh," the man said, getting up from his chair and extending a hand for Chris to shake.

"You parked in my spot," Chris shot back, peering down at Josh's hand with a look of contempt and silently rejecting his polite gesture.

"Sorry. You'll have to excuse my stepbrother. No one ever taught him manners or how to use the bathroom without getting piss on the toilet seat," you remarked in a snide tone as Chris pushed past him.

"So, uh, what do you think?" Josh asked, redirecting you back to what you two were talking about before Chris interrupted. "I love all your ideas," you giggled, brushing a strand of hair out of your face and licking your lips as you looked at Josh.

The boy across from you may have been oblivious to your flirtatious demeanor, but Chris clocked it right away. "God, could ya be any more fuckin' desperate?" Chris mumbled under his breath as he swung open the door of the fridge.

"What was that?" You wondered, stopping your conversation and turning your attention to your stepbrother who wasn't taking the hint that you wanted to be left alone with Josh, or so you thought.

He actually was getting the hint. He was just blatantly ignoring it.

"I said, what're ya guys workin' on?" Chris asked, but it wasn't so much that he was genuinely curious as much as he was trying to figure out how much longer he was going to have to endure the jealousy of watching you pathetically throw yourself at another man.

"We're working on building our argument for our debate class. We were all paired off, given a controversial topic, and we have to present our arguments next week to the opposing side," you responded, fidgeting with your pencil.

"What's the controversial topic?" Chris asked, a smirk playing in the corner of his mouth. He loved contentious subjects and arguing. "The subject is pornography and whether it's pro or anti-feminist," you replied.

"Oh, yeah?" Chris asked, the topic piquing his interest. "What's your argument, kid?" Chris asked, cracking open a can of Pepsi and leaning against the counter. He was eager to hear your take on the subject.

"Our argument is that it's anti-feminist. It prioritizes male pleasure, gives unhealthy and unrealistic expectations about sex, and it's just overall degrading and exploitative," you casually stated, shrugging your shoulders. Chris scoffed. "Isn't that kinda sexist of you to say?" He shot back, sipping from his Pepsi can.

"What are you talking about?" You huffed back, crossing your arms and glaring in his direction. "Well, isn't it kind of infantalizing to assume that any woman who is in the porn industry is only doin' it because she's bein' exploited? Why can't a woman just become a porn star because she wants to?" Chris asked, sounding rather genuine.

You were at a loss for words, unsure of how to combat Chris' argument. "And what about the girls who like bein' degraded? What about the girls who like watchin' shit like that?" He added.

"What's your point, Chris?" You scoffed. "It's anti-feminist for you to assume that porn only exists for male pleasure when women probably get off to it just as much," Chris stated a valid point before taking a sip of his soda.

"Whatever, Chris. You wouldn't know feminism if it sat on your face," you rolled your eyes, dismissing his comments. "What? You tellin' me you've never gotten off to that shit? Maybe even the rough stuff?" Chris snarked, deviously grinning at you, his eyes scanning you up and down as if he were calculating the exact categories you were into.

Your stare grew wide, and your cheeks grew hot. You couldn't believe Chris was putting you in this position in front of your classmate you were secretly crushing on.

Josh sat quietly, wide-eyed and mouth agape as he listened to the two of you bicker back and forth, astonished that step siblings felt so comfortable talking to each other about hardcore porn.

"Chris! I-," you started to say, but your breath hitched in your throat. "I'm not saying- Look, Chris. We were given a topic and told which side we had to argue for. That's the key to being good at debate, is being able to argue both sides regardless of how you personally feel about the subject. My thoughts on it are completely irrelevant."

"Right, but don't you have to really believe what you're saying to be good at arguing your side? You know my room's right next to yours, right?" Chris shot back, insinuating he knew something. His lips curled into a sadistic smile, knowing he was humiliating you. You huffed and rolled your eyes.

"Chris, can I talk to you in private?" You narrowed your gaze at him. "Yeah, sure. Whatever," he scoffed and rolled his gorgeous, blue eyes.

You excused yourself, and you and Chris headed upstairs. You led him into your bedroom, and you shut the door behind the two of you before you whipped around and glared at him.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" You sternly questioned him. "What the fuck do ya think you're doin'? That guy?" Chris blurted out, surprised that you'd be into such a docile man.

"What? He's a nice guy," you defended Josh. "You don't want a nice guy," Chris chuckled, giving you a dark smirk. "You don't know what I want," you replied. "Sure, I do. I think I know whatcha want better than you do," he cooed, reaching up and softly running his thumb across your bottom lip.

"Chris. I really like him. Please don't embarrass me in front of him," you whispered, giving Chris a somber look. "You'd get bored of him. Bet he could never fuck you as good as I do," Chris purred, stepping closer to you and studying your expression.

"Are you.. jealous?" You wondered, a satisfied grin spreading across your lips. "No," Chris sneered. "Of course I'm not jealous. I just know what ya need better than anyone else." Chris firmly grabbed your jaw and pinned you between the door and his body.

"Chris -" you started to retort, but he cut you off by pressing his lips into yours. You softly moaned into his mouth as his free hand flew to his waistband, pulling his cock free from his shorts.

You immediately felt all your willpower to stop him leave your body, and you relaxed into his kiss. You felt his drooling tip brush against the inside of your thigh as he hiked up your skirt and roughly pulled your panties to the side.

You felt the cool air rush over your exposed heat while Chris ran the head of his cock along your sensitive clit. You shuddered at the sensation. As he slipped it into your entrance, he bit down on the soft flesh of your bottom lip, leaving it swollen and bruised as he slowly pulled away.

"Awh, she's so happy to see me," Chris cooed, smirking up at you as he sunk his length all the way in, feeling the way you stretched around him.

"She thought she was gonna have to settle for that loser downstairs, huh? Don't worry, baby. Daddy's home now," Chris grunted, jerking his hips forward and starting to pump in and out of you at a rough pace as you hooked one leg around his waist.

You threw your head back, and a soft thump sounded as you made contact with the door behind you. A loud moan escaped your lips at the way Chris spoke to you coupled with the way he brutally pounded into you.

He thought about covering your mouth, but a sly smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he imagined the boy downstairs, possibly hearing the two of you. "Can't stay quiet, huh? Is my dick really that good or do ya just really want Josh to know how good I'm fuckin' ya?" Chris chuckled into your ear.

Your eyes rolled back, and a subtle smile crept into your expression. You were too fucked out to even answer him.

"Be a good girl and take it," Chris groaned, leaning in and latching onto your neck. The faint, sweet smell of his natural musk filled your senses, heightening every touch. He began suckling on the soft skin above your collar bone, listening to the pretty sounds that fell from your tender lips.

His fingertips dug into your sides, leaving red prints on your flesh through the fabric of your clothing. You couldn't get enough of the way he manhandled you, the way he touched, licked, and bit at you like it was all that you were good for, marking you up with his perfect teeth while he pounded away.

"You're gonna leave a bruise," you weakly told him, but you said it as more of a lustful observation than a warning or a request for him to let up. You secretly liked the idea of him claiming you as with a hickey in such a visible place, knowing you'd have to hide it from Josh when you got back downstairs.

"That's not the only thing I'm gonna leave bruised," Chris teased you, talking into the crook of your neck. You could already feel the knot forming in the pit of your stomach, a testament to the effect Chris had on you.

Your hands were draped around the back of his neck, clawing at his t-shirt as your legs grew weak. "Daaaddy," your quiet voice trembled like you were talking while driving over a cattleguard due to how mercilessly Chris was fucking you.

"What was that?" Chris inquired through his breathlessness, slowing down his thrusts. "No, no. Please don't stop," you begged through your panting. "Then tell me what you said," Chris murmured, his intense blue eyes locked on yours.

"Nothing," you whispered, feeling your face grow hot from letting that word slip out. You knew you'd never hear the end of it.

"Mhmm. Sure," Chris smirked and narrowed his gaze at you before he went back to his fast, hard movements, bottoming out with every stroke. It didnt take long before you picked up right where you left off, your stomach doing twists and turns as Chris rearranged your guts with his unrelenting cock.

He was going at it so hard that the door was jiggling against the frame and making a sound as if someone was trying to repeatedly open it. Your body started shaking uncontrollably at the whole situation and how Chris didn't care that you had company sitting at the kitchen table. He was going to take you however and whenever he wanted.

"Be a good girl and cum all over daddy's cock," Chris cooed, feeling you begin to rhythmically clench around him. You were fighting for your life, biting back the sensual sounds that desperately wanted to make themselves known as your orgasm tore through you.

The feeling of you finishing onto him caused a ripple effect. His length twitched inside of you, filling you up with his white, sticky cum as he moaned into your ear. He followed it up with a faint chuckle, his breath tickling your neck as he found amusement in how easily you always gave into him.

He pulled himself out of you, leaving his seed leaking onto the inside of your thigh as he did so. "Such a fuckin' slut," Chris teased.

"Okay, don't keep your prude boyfriend waiting too much longer or else he might start suspecting something," Chris winked at you, keeping his voice low. You took a few deep breaths. You tugged down the hem of your skirt, smoothing out the fabric to conceal the mess Chris had made between your legs.

"Chris. Can you please just give me and Josh some privacy while we work on our project?" You asked, considering that was the whole reason you'd asked to talk to him in the first place.

"I'll keep my mouth shut, but I'm not leaving you alone with some other guy. Not a fuckin' chance," Chris answered, his voice thick with jealousy as he bore into your stare with his own.

You spun around, cleared your throat, and popped open the door. Chris delivered a harsh smack on your ass as you stepped out into the hallway. You let out a small squeal and swatted his hand away with your own, but you otherwise ignored his gesture.

The two of you descended the stairs. Chris made his way back over to the fridge to poke around for something to eat. You draped a thick strand of your hair over the red spot on your neck and sucked in your swollen lip as you sat back down across from your classmate.

"Sorry about that. My stepbrother won't be bothering us anymore," you calmly said. "How'd you get him to do that?" Josh asked, furrowing his brow at how quiet Chris was now compared to how loud-mouthed and obnoxious he was being ten minutes ago.

"I have my ways," you replied through a subtle smirk.

(guys don't worry I'll do a part five 💖)

[pynkfairyheart]

hiii so I saw you said request were open! i really LOVE your writing so yk yk i had to ask but can you do like a story where ony does a being mean to my girlfriend prank but y/n is a reallll crybaby!! BYEE

pairings: onyankopon x sensitive!reader

warnings: smut 18+, ony is a lil mean, reader cries a lil bit

a/n: so sorry it took me this long, life has been....lifing.

What goes around comes around

Actions have consequences, you knew this and yet you still decided to go with your plan.

Setting up your phone you smiled into the camera and started your intro.

“Hi, lovelies. Today we’re gonna do a get ready with me, while I tell you three reasons it's okay to cheat on your boyfriend.” 

Taking a quick glance in the mirror of your vanity, you could see the wheels working overtime in the handsome head that belonged to your boyfriend.

The decision on whether to be calm or tweak out playing tug of war on his brain. 

Settling on the thought that he misheard you he decided to go the calm route.

“Whatchu say, baby?” Deep voice contrasting against the soft tone of Jhene Aiko in the quiet room.

“Hmm?” You feigned innocence as you met his eyes in the mirror.

“I asked, ‘What did you say?’ ” His straightening posture and tone transition to demanding letting you know his patience was thinning by the second.

You were positive this would end with you folded in half, crying from overstimulation as he continuously ripped orgasm after orgasm from you. The thought only excited you and fueled your response. 

With a shrug of your shoulders you hummed a quick ‘I don't know’ and went back to your task.

“The fuck you mean youn know?” He chuckled in disbelief, hand running over his freshly maintained waves before coming down to rub the lower half of his face.

Opting to ignore him, you continued along with your routine, silently. 

“So you just gon ignore me?” Heavy thuds bouncing off the walls as he made his way to stand behind you.

The light pressure applied to your neck, as he tilted your head back having your thighs clench.

Oh, how you wanted to ditch the plan and jump his bones. Brown eyes glaring down into yours, as he tightened his grip. 

Feeling a little risky you decided to do the one thing Ony hates most. Roll your eyes.

“Mmm, aight” He nodded his head. Zero fucks given to the content you were creating as he lifted you from your chair and bent you over.

Never once slowing his assault even after you managed to tell him it was a prank through your moans and cries. 

The new information only encouraging him to go faster as your arousal trickled onto the wood floors while he required you to tell the camera why it wasn't okay to cheat on your boyfriend as he fucked you dumb. 

Usually, your consequences consisted of the audacity being fucked out of you whenever you did something to piss Ony off, but this time he decided to play a prank of his own.

Waiting a week to execute his plan, he chose to carry it out the day you came back from your girl's weekend. 

“You didn't hear me or get my texts?” A small pout forming on your glossy lips as you sat next to him, despite him taking up more than half of the bed. 

“Baby, I'm home” You sang as you wandered around the house looking for him.

Only to find him laid out on the bed as he watched an episode of Judge Mathis.

“I did” Eyes trained on the TV.

“Did something happen?” You gripped his jaw, forcing him to finally look at you.

“Nah, I just don’t feel good.” He removed your hand from his face and moved to the opposite side of the bed. 

“You need me to make you some soup?” Pout returning to your lips as he flinched away when you tried to check his temperature. 

“I’m good. You could leave me alone though.” 

You considered yourself to be very understanding when it came to relationships. Whether it was with family, a coworker, or a client, but more than anything when it came to your relationship with Ony. You understood he needed time to himself just as you did, but the way he said it was just… mean.

The stinging sensation of your eyes was becoming unbearable as the tears pooled in the inner corners of your eyes.

“Oh” Voice cracking despite swallowing the lump that lingered in your throat.

Your tone raised alarms in the man. His own heart gained a pace that matched yours as he saw the tears that began to spill from your eyes. 

“Wait, I'm sorry, ma. I was just playing. C'mere” Hand reaching out to hold you, only to pause when you flinched away from him.

“Mama, it was just a prank. I'm sorry, baby” Panic rising at the influx of tears flowing from your eyes. 

Seeing you cry from any negative emotion always pained him, but knowing he was the reason for the tears falling from your pouty face made him feel as if he failed in life.

“What do you mean it's a prank Onyankopon?” You huffed, the palm of your hand wet as you wiped away your tears. 

“I was just joking. You know how you did that video last week? I was doing something similar. I didn't mean to hurt you, mama. Please believe me” He pleaded.

Maybe it was the immense amount of love you had for him or that it'd be wrong to not forgive him when he put up with all your antics, but you couldn't stay mad at him for too long.

“You really need to work on your pranks. They're terrible” Pink satin pillow softly hitting him along the side of his head. 

“I know, I'm sorry, c'mere” He smiled, happy you were no longer crying and motioned for you to straddle him.

Caring less about the fact you were wearing a dress you crawled over to him, getting comfortable on his lap as you traced the small tattoo of your name behind his ear,

“You know you're gonna have to make it up to me right?”

“Mhm” He mindlessly hummed, eyes trained on your lips before he could no longer resist.

Low groan escaping his chest as he pulls you closer, tongue tracing your bottom lip before diving into your mouth.

“Ony” You whimpered as his lips moved down to your neck, peppering gentle kisses along your skin before sucking on the areas that made you weak. Your body craving for some sort of friction as you ground your hips down onto his.

“I know, mama” He murmured. His fingers sliding up your dress before slipping past the waistband of your panties, digits immediately coming into contact with the slick that was pooling in between your chubby thighs.

“Lil ma already soaked for me” He groaned against your warm skin. A small bruise forming where he was previously sucking. 

“Ony, stop teasing” You whined as he slowly rubbed your clit, the pads of his fingers barely grazing the bud.

With a slight smirk on his lips his fingers gravitated to your entrance, slowly rubbing at the pulsing hole before his fingers worked their way into your walls.

Fingers knuckles deep as he curled them against the soft spongy flesh against your walls. 

“Need you inside now” You pouted, craving something more than the two digits plunging in and out of you.

“Yeah?” He mumbled as he pulled out his fingers. Placing the pads on your tongue as you sucked your arousal off his digits, just as you would do his cock.

Watching you with lust filled eyes he removed his fingers from your mouth, and wrapped a hand around your neck before pulling you in for a nasty kiss. His tongue exploring the path down your throat while you rocked against the growing bulge in his pants.

Pulling away to fumble with the waistband of his pants he pulled down his sweats just enough to release his throbbing cock. Standing tall with his viens prominent and tip leaking a small amount of precum.

“Ride your dick, ma” He pulled your panties to the side rubbing his tip along the slick folds of your puffy pussy, before lining up with your entrance and helping you sink down onto him. Hiss escaping him as your warm walls engulfed him.

“Ony s'so big" You whined in his ear. Allowing him to lift you up and down his cock at a deliciously slow pace, your walls contracting around him at every movement.

“Doing so good fa me.” Two toned lip stuck in between his pearly white teeth as he bucked his hips up to meet your thrust, tip grazing against your cervix.

“Fuck. Faster, daddy, please” You gasped, head resting in his neck as he did all of the work.

Listening to your plea, he picked up his pace, thrusting deeper into you. The sound of your pooling arousal, slapping flesh, and your mixed moans filling the room, atmosphere becoming nastier by the second. 

“I love you so fucking much” His arms wrapping tightly around your waist as you tried to run when he increased his pace.

“Say it back, ma” He grunted. Palm landing on the flesh of your ass.

Tired off your running, his hands gripped your hips and he pulled you off him, flipping you over onto your back before ramming back into you.

“Ohh, shit, Onyyy” You cried, knees near your ears as he pushed your legs back.

"Say it or I'm stopping" He threatened. Eyes focused on your sopping pussy sucking him in, sticky ring of arousal dripping from the base of his cock.

“I- mhmph love you too Ony, so much” Bed creaking under the speed and force of his thrust.

Releasing your legs he leaned down, lips immediately on yours in a sloppy kiss. 

“I'm so close, pa" A mixture of moans and whimpers escaped your agape mouth, nails digging into his back with every thrust.

“Mhm, I know, baby. Let go for me” He grunted, reaching between your bodies to rub his thumb against your clit.

A series of curses left your mouth as you creamed around him. Walls contracting so tightly that he had no other choice but to cum.

“Fuuuck” He groaned, hips stilling inside you as he flooded your walls.

“I'm sorry for making you sad, baby. I love you so much, I'll never do anything to hurt you again” He whispered into your neck.

“I know Ony, I forgive you"

Pulling out he kissed you once more before laying flat in front of you, your thighs on each side of his head.

"Lemme show you how sorry I am, yeah?"

[bi-writes]

i'm a big fan of your writing! can i ask what made simon want to mail order a bride in the first place? thanks <3

mail-order bride

he's tired of staring across his dinner table and seeing nothing but empty space.

it isn't something he had thought about in the before. he's spent a long time shifting between different cots, collecting sand from faraway places and counting the bodies he dropped with tally marks against his boots.

there's a picture he keeps tucked into his vest, but he won't take it out. it sits heavy there, an invisible wall between himself and the outside world, a reality that he chooses not to believe. if he doesn't look at them, he won't think of them, and if he doesn't think of them, maybe he can pretend they were never even real.

they all have something outside of here. his sergeants are too pretty and too outgoing to stick around; they're social butterflies, and simon has seen the shuffle of pictures of some pretty girl that gaz can't stop staring at, and soap never shuts up--whenever they have a signal, he's somehow got a phone call with his cousin's stepfather's little sister, or it's his second cousin's brother-in-law's birthday, and he's got to wish him well since he missed his art exhibition last month.

even price has a pale circular shadow that is stained onto his ring finger.

it's not his fault, is it? it's not his fault he was dealt the worst fucking hand. it wasn't his fault he was born already two feet into the grave; it couldn't have been his fault that he can only get a good night's sleep when there's screaming in one ear or the rattle of a battlefield over his head.

it isn't his fault. it isn't his fault. it isn't his fault.

the cigarettes taste bland today. they're old, stale, and he can taste the bitterness already, but he lights it anyways, flicking ash into the ground, scrunching his nose until he gets used to the bite of it.

there's a shadow at his side, and he turns to snap at them, assuming it's johnny and his incessant nagging, but he holds his tongue when he realizes it's his captain.

he's got a warm cigar in one hand, and he leans against the concrete wall beside him, sighing deep, the kind of pensive weight that only a captain can bear.

price looks tired. he needs to go home.

"boys invited y'out, didn't they?" price asks, and simon chuckles lowly.

"'m olready 'ome," simon murmurs. "'n i can get piss drunk oll on my own 'ere."

price shrugs.

"ya haven't taken leave since you joined my team, simon," he says low. "can't have that. you know it."

simon shrugs.

"can try and make me go," simon tells him. "but y'know i won't leave."

"i'm not asking, simon," price says firmly. "'m telling."

"doesn't matter," simon takes a long drag of the cigarette, holding it in for a second too long before letting it out slow. "got nowhere ta go."

his captain is not blind. simon's on a one-way road, and the end of it stops at the end of someone else's gun. men like simon, the ones who have nothing to lose, they're dangerous. they clear rooms outnumbered thirty to one because no one thinks they can. they hit targets from thousands of yards away because it's the only place that never changes. they kill and sleep peacefully because the blood of a stranger is far cleaner than that of someone they know, of someone they love.

they'll never leave because war is familiar. they don't want to go home because home isn't something they know. they're nomads, taking with them only what they can carry, because the rest is baggage and an emotional weight that they aren't strong enough to carry.

but it doesn't mean men like simon don't want. it doesn't mean they don't wish for more. it doesn't mean they don't think about using their teeth for something other than baring them to show their dominance, their aggression, their insecurity.

simon's a protector. the way he shoves his men behind him says so. the steadiness of his voice over comms when the op goes to shit. the ease of his hand when he ties a tourniquet. the split second that simon never wastes, the way he uses his body as armor and the look he gives his men when they're scared. simon's died twice before, and the look in his eyes tells them that this isn't it, that this isn't death, because he'd fucking know--he'd recognize it if he saw it.

simon's unrelenting. his past, his trauma, it's tried to beat him into a shape that will bend and snap, but its obvious simon is not made of lead--fuck, he's an entire block of unmovable steel. he does not give when compressed, he does not crack when the strength of him is tested. simon's fought too hard to live to let a gun terrify him, he's endured too much torture to flinch when someone sinks a blade into his chest.

but he knows, simon knows, that there is something missing. he fought hard to live, but for what? he's endured, but what the fuck is there when he lays his head down at night?

simon's a lover. he tries so hard to convince himself that he's always been this way--alone, drifting, lost, but it's a lie. simon knows what it's like to want. he knows what it's like to look into a crowd and hope you see a familiar face. he understands wanting to pull that string taut, but he also understands what it can do to you. what it can take from you.

he understands what you can never get back.

he thinks this is a bad idea. he crumples the note paper in his hand that had the address scribbled onto it, tearing it, staring up at the house in front of him. it's quaint, a lovely little house in the outskirts of london, with a red chimney and overturned planters in the yard. there's a weathered wooden door, a porch step that needs fixing, and when he kicks open the door, he grimaces seeing a carpet that need's replacing.

"the fuck am i doin' 'ere?" he whispers to himself, sliding his mask off, running a hand over his face. his heart is pounding, but he's not sure why, but he catches his reflection in the window. what looks back at him terrifies him--he can't do this.

he makes his way back outside, rummaging through his pockets for a cigarette. he takes a seat on the steps, lighting it, and as he takes his first frantic drag, he sees the torn pages of the note still on the ground. he picks up one end of it, running his thumb over the crumpled paper there, smudging the pencil scribble there.

she needs you

it's written in price's ugly handwriting, letters all tilted to the side and barely legible, but he still can read what price didn't write--and you need her.

but simon doesn't need anyone. he barely needs himself, barely can take care of himself. this won't help him--he can't help anyone, he isn't the kind that can be this kind of thing for anyone. he's stayed in the service because at least this way, he can die with honor, he can prove them all wrong, he can at least be remembered for what he could do and not by what was done to him.

his touch is ice. his heart is buried too deep under his ribs; no one has seen it since he could finally register a memory. his face, the skin he wears--he's not a pretty man, he's a forgettable one. he isn't gentle, he isn't capable of it. he can't forgive. he's so quick to anger, likes to snap his teeth, and he cannot be the kind of thing that they all expect him to be.

he does not love himself. he will not love himself. so he cannot love another.

there is a certain kind of satisfaction he feels when he fixes the porch step. once abandoned, once a nuisance, and now it functions as intended. he feels the same kind of thing when he rips up the stained carpet, and he feels it again when he watches the seeds of the thyme leaves grow as they rest in a pot above the sink.

things once forgotten serve a purpose. with effort, they can be used again. they don't have to be replaced, they can be open anew, they can live again and breathe deeper and see through the lens of a different perspective.

when you climb the porch steps the first time, he thinks about the board that doesn't wobble any longer. when the door shuts behind you for the first time and you take off your boots, he thinks about the new carpet that warms your toes now.

and when you lay next to him for the first time, under the covers of the bed he's made, he reaches over and slips a few fingers around your wrist, thumbing at the base of it and swallowing hard when he feels the pulse of your heartbeat. it beats, warm and steady, to a beat familiar, one he knows. his heart has not been hiding under thick bone and the tar of his own blood.

it's here now. under your skin. and now it's home.

[reiderwriter]

🗝 Don't Back Down 🗝

Pairing: Unit Chief! Sub Spencer Reid x dom! BAU Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 24

Requested: Hello!! You are an excellent writer, and I hope you don’t mind a random request. :)!Basically, Spencer breaks protocol and endangers himself - runs after an unsub without backup, takes off his vest, etc. whatever it is - the reader is either there or finds out and is PISSED. She’s obviously not above him in the BAU, so she can’t punish him at work, but she can punish him in bed through toys/edging.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, brief mentions of details, minor gunshot wound, sex toys, punishment, BDSM themes, male sub Spencer, cock ring, dildo, masturbation (f), squirting, overstimulation (male), multiple orgasms, begging, messy sex, slight cum play, implied oral sex (f), boss/ subordinate relationship, partial established relationship, FWB dynamic. Implied switch x switch.

A/N: Hello! I really loved writing Unit Chief Spencer for my first Kink Bingo fic, so I've decided to bring him back a second time, and I'll be rounding out the challenge with a third part in the Unit Chief saga in July! You don't have to have read the first part, but if you want to, you can find it here~♡ I'm still enjoying the challenge of interpreting all the bingo challenges and this marks my very first bingo line! Let's see if I can get a full board!!

Masterlist || Bingo Board

His tenure as Unit Chief may have been temporary and wholly unwanted, but you admired Spencer's commitment to actually taking care of every member of the team he was left in charge of. 

He'd supported JJ in interviews, actually taking care of the press very effectively, and made sure Garcia was calm and stable. Hell, he'd even made Rossi feel better about his work on cases. And for you - well, he'd taught you to shoot straight. That and more. 

He'd held you in the middle of the night on the tougher cases, letting you sob into his bare chest the day you'd first killed an unsub. He'd distracted you from cases with his tongue, and his fingers and his dick, he'd given you pleasure where the job gave only pain and stress, and you loved him. 

You loved him, even if he was going to get himself killed. 

At first, it had been pulling Luke out of the way of a moving vehicle, being almost mowed down himself when on a case. Then he'd walked into a scene without his gun and had actually taken off his vest in exchange for JJ and Tara being able to back away to safety. He'd closed a door between him and Rossi and an active bomb that had only just been deactivated in time, and more recently, he'd taken two bullets for you. 

It was like he wanted to die. 

Th bullets, of course, had hit his vest, but a third had scraped his shoulder, and the cry out of pain had you nearly hysterical. Luke had taken down the unsub immediately, but you were a flood of tears already, panicking and having and dropping to your knees as you shook, the anxiety of almost losing him flooding your body with adrenaline. 

After all that, he was still the one comforting you. 

“Y/N. Y/N, shhh, it's okay, I'm here. I'm okay. Don't cry were both safe, I saved you. We're safe.” 

You pounded at his chest, but with the others surrounding you, there was nothing to do but stand and pull yourself together, even if you wanted to rage at him and tell and scream. 

He gave out orders and was escorted away to an ambulance, and you wiped your tears and got to work. You'd fucked Spencer, sure, you had been fucking him for months now, but it wasn't a relationship. It certainly wasn't anything your coworkers knew about, and you knew they'd have words if they did know. 

So you wiped your tears, and you put your head down and finished up your work. Then you made your way back to the jet, back to your home, back to your bed, and waited for him to make an appearance. 

You weren't in a relationship, but you knew he'd come. You heard his keys in your door, rolling your eyes at how naive you'd been handing it over - in case of emergencies, really, he had Luke and Penelope’s spare keys as well because they lived alone, it'd be safer. 

You sat up in your bed and waited for him to come in, scoffing when he knocked on your bedroom door.

“Was there a point to that, Spencer?” You asked, calling him in. 

He looked dishevelled, slightly worse for ware, but god did he look good. He wore a new shirt, a bullet hole ripped in the last one, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. The top buttons were undone, and he discarded his jacket on your chair before stepping closer. 

“Y/N…” his voice was so tired you almost forgot how angry you were. Almost. 

“No. Don't come to me like that after you pulled that stupid shit today, Spencer.” 

“He was going to shoot you-” 

“He was going to miss. You're taller than me. And if I'd stayed where I was, I would have fired off a round before he could even get one shot in. But you pushed me out of the way and almost got yourself killed instead.”

He stood with his hands on his hips in front of the bed, a scowl on his face as he struggled with words to find next. 

“I won't apologize for saving your life.”

“No, you won't because you didn't save my life. You almost ended yours.”

“Y/N-” 

You knelt on the bed now and grabbed his shoulders, pushing him to his knees. 

“No. I'm done listening, and you're done talking. If you're not going to stop walking into near death experiences, you don't get to walk in here and fuck me.”

He sank to his knees easily, his eyes wide as you sat up on the bed in front of him. You thought of leaving him there the entire night, of kicking him out into the living room to sleep on the couch. If you hadn't been through so much that day, you'd just send him home. 

But sat there on his knees, you saw a flash of desire in his eyes, big and round and needy. 

His gaze flicked to your core, and you suddenly entertained different ways to punish him, to train him out of destructive behaviour. 

“Handcuffs,” you said, holding out your hands for them. He passed them up, and you left the bed, restraining his hands behind his back quickly and grabbing two items from your draws. 

You moved to the bed and knelt again as he looked at you with dark eyes, suddenly aware of what was happening to him. 

“Y/N-” 

“I didn't say you could speak,” you said as you quickly peeled off your nightdress, leaving yourself bare on the bed. 

Usually, you'd feel embarrassed being naked. Even when he undressed you, you felt the urge to cover your tits, to squeeze your legs shut so he couldn't see all of you, to let him pry your hands away, to coax your legs apart. 

Now, you sat confidently, spine straightening as you looked down at him. 

His eyes took in your body, and he winced as if pained when you touched yourself, knowing that usually he alone had that honour. 

“Y/N…”

“One more time, and you won't return to this bed for days. Do you understand?”

Learning, he nodded and sat up again to watch your fingers play with your nipples, twisting them either way as you moaned and sighed above him.

His breathing hitched as you let your hands trail lower and lower until they reached your cunt. You didn't touch yourself yet though. 

“Open,” You said, leaning forward and tapping his chin. He complied, opening his mouth and you shoved two fingers inside.

“Get them nice and wet for me.” 

He licked and sucked your fingers for two minutes, never breaking eye contact as his spit rolled down your hand. 

“Good boy,” you said, pulling them away as you began to touch yourself. Sitting back on your ass, you rubbed your clit, rubbing his spit into your sensitive button, letting him know how good it felt, how close you were to cumming with his spit on your cunt. You plunged one finger in and then another as you watched him bite his tongue, careful not to let even a small sound slip out. 

You didn't even have to glance down to know he was hard. It was in the set of his shoulders, the rapid breaths he took. It was the way he sat back on his heels, rocking back and forth to feel some goddamn friction. 

You couldn't have that. 

You placed your foot on his uninjured shoulder and tried to hold him in place. 

“Don't fucking move,” you said, slipping a second finger inside yourself ad you picked up the pace. Your hips bucked ad you watched him watch your cunt, paying attention to every twitch you made, every moan, breath, gasp, and shudder. 

“I'm gonna cum, fuck, I'm gonna- shit! Shit-” 

You came with a spurt, squirting your cum across his face as he leaned closer, desperate to taste you. You grabbed his hair and forced him backwards though, grabbing the two toys beside you as you dropped down to the floor. 

“You're not touching my cunt today, Spencer, not even for a taste. You're not touching anything today.”

You pulled his cock free from his pants and spat on it, not bothering to touch it properly before pushing the cock ring onto him and pressing the on button. 

In a minute he was a moaning mess and you smiled at the painful pleasure disrupting his features. 

“Eyes open, Spencer, you have to keep watching.” 

You kept your eyes locked with his, his mouth open wide in a silent moan as he tried not to cum, desperate to hold out for you as long as he could. 

You climbed back onto your bed and spread your legs again, this time accompanied by a translucent plastic cock. You teased your hole for a few seconds, grabbing Spencer's attention before pushing it in. 

His eyes were stormy as he watched you fuck yourself with your old companion. You hadn't used it in a while, basically since you'd started fucking Spencer. He had rules, and one of them was that you couldn't use the dildo without his permission. He'd never given permission.

The look on his face now was worth whatever punishment he'd had out in the future, a mixture of anger and pathetic arousal, his eyes never leaving your cunt even as his own dick started spurting.

He came quickly, splashing up his shirt, ruining his pants. 

You left him there like that, though, even as he winced from the overstimulation. 

He didn't make a sound still, even as his dick got hard again almost immediately after deflating the first time.

“Look at what a mess you made. You're such a little pervert that you just came all over your shirt and pants. I hope you bought a spare, Spencer.” 

His fight was gone as he looked at you again, only lust left as he panted and writhed beneath you. 

You kept riding the dildo, burying It between pillows so you could ride it easier without needing to hold it. 

He watched transfixed as his cock twitched again, vibrating still right on his balls. 

“Tell me how good it feels, Spencer.’

“Hurts… Y/N, so good…. it hurts.”

You smiled down at him and kept asking him questions, knowing he'd never be able to stay quiet now. 

“Do you want to cum again?” 

“Fuck…yes, please, Y/N, please.”

“Do you want to cum all over yourself one more time?”

“N-No… messy, want to cum…in you.”

“What a shame, Spencer, but that isn't allowed. I won't let you cum in me if you're going to try to take a bullet in the field.”

“Y/N… p-please,” he whined, and you heard his voice break, hips thrusting up into the air now as he watched you. 

“No. You're going to cum on yourself until you promise not to do it again.”

He shook his head, closing his eyes as he tried to resist cumming for a second time, so out of control. “Please-” 

“You can do it. Promise me.” 

“Y/N, p-please let me cum” he moaned again, his hands pulling at the restraints so he could get this infernal cock ring off of him and bury himself inside of you. 

But it was too late, and his second orgssm stretched out longer than the one before. 

You'd leaned in so close you'd caught a drop of cum on your face, but most of it pooled on him instead. He collapses backwards, his cum coating his stomach and chest, his shirt going translucent in places as the ring kept buzzing. 

His moans were loud now, and immediately, he knew it was too much to wish for round three. 

“I promise! Y/N, I promise, please fuck, I promise.”

You quickly fell to the floor, turning off the cock ring and slipping it off as you kissed him tenderly, thanking him and praising him for doing such a good job for you. 

You rolled him onto his side and removed the handcuffs, immediately pulling them into your lap and massaging them, feeling a bit guilty about the red marks. 

“Spencer?” You asked after a few moments when he seemed to have regained his breath and his senses. 

“Mmm?” 

“We should get you in bed. You need to rest.” 

He nodded and weakly sat himself up, falling into bed beside you. He threw the dildo across the room and nuzzled himself into you, head buried between your breasts. 

You pulled away and came back with a wash cloth, stripping his shirt and pants and cleaning the cum off him as best you could so he could sleep comfortably. 

“I prefer when you do that with your mouth, you know?” He joked, and you playfully hit his leg. He couldn't still be thinking about sex after that. 

But he was. As careful as you were to not overstimulate him again, his cock still rose again, and he pushed your hands away, pulling you up to him. 

“I came twice, but you only did it once,” he whispered between kisses. 

“It seems like we need to get even.”

With that, you knew that your turn being in charge was over, and he was the leader now.

"But only if you beg for it," you smirked, looking up at him, but he easily flipped you over, pushing you up so you were kneeling on the sheets above him again, him undernesth you. 

You happily followed him as he pulled your dripping core over his mouth, and he pulled you in for one last taste, begging you for forgiveness with his tongue again and again.